ἸΛΙΆΣ 21

Ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ πόρον ἷξον ἐϋρρεῖος ποταμοῖο,
Ξάνθου δινήεντος, ὃν ἀθάνατος τέκετο Ζεύς,
ἔνθα διατμήξας τοὺς μὲν πεδίον δὲ δίωκε
πρὸς πόλιν, ᾗ περ Ἀχαιοὶ ἀτυζόμενοι φοβέοντο
ἤματι τῷ προτέρῳ, ὅτε μαίνετο φαίδιμος Ἕκτωρ·
τῇ ῥ’ οἵ γε προχέοντο πεφυζότες, ἠέρα δ’ Ἥρη
πίτνα πρόσθε βαθεῖαν ἐρυκέμεν· ἡμίσεες δὲ
ἐς ποταμὸν εἰλεῦντο βαθύρροον ἀργυροδίνην,
ἐν δ’ ἔπεσον μεγάλῳ πατάγῳ, βράχε δ’ αἰπὰ ῥέεθρα,
ὄχθαι δ’ ἀμφὶ περὶ μεγάλ’ ἴαχον· οἱ δ’ ἀλαλητῷ
ἔννεον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα ἑλισσόμενοι περὶ δίνας.
ὡς δ’ ὅθ’ ὑπὸ ῥιπῆς πυρὸς ἀκρίδες ἠερέθονται
φευγέμεναι ποταμόνδε· τὸ δὲ φλέγει ἀκάματον πῦρ
ὄρμενον ἐξαίφνης, ταὶ δὲ πτώσσουσι καθ’ ὕδωρ·
ὣς ὑπ’ Ἀχιλλῆος Ξάνθου βαθυδινήεντος
πλῆτο ῥόος κελάδων ἐπιμὶξ ἵππων τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν.
Αὐτὰρ ὁ διογενὴς δόρυ μὲν λίπεν αὐτοῦ ἐπ’ ὄχθῃ
κεκλιμένον μυρίκῃσιν, ὁ δ’ ἔσθορε δαίμονι ἶσος
φάσγανον οἶον ἔχων, κακὰ δὲ φρεσὶ μήδετο ἔργα,
τύπτε δ’ ἐπιστροφάδην· τῶν δὲ στόνος ὄρνυτ’ ἀεικὴς
ἄορι θεινομένων, ἐρυθαίνετο δ’ αἵματι ὕδωρ.

ὡς δ’ ὑπὸ δελφῖνος μεγακήτεος ἰχθύες ἄλλοι
φεύγοντες πιμπλᾶσι μυχοὺς λιμένος εὐόρμου
δειδιότες· μάλα γάρ τε κατεσθίει ὅν κε λάβῃσιν·
ὣς Τρῶες ποταμοῖο κατὰ δεινοῖο ῥέεθρα
πτῶσσον ὑπὸ κρημνούς. ὁ δ’ ἐπεὶ κάμε χεῖρας ἐναίρων,
ζωοὺς ἐκ ποταμοῖο δυώδεκα λέξατο κούρους,
ποινὴν Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος·
τοὺς ἐξῆγε θύραζε τεθηπότας ἠΰτε νεβρούς,
δῆσε δ’ ὀπίσσω χεῖρας ἐϋτμήτοισιν ἱμᾶσι,
τοὺς αὐτοὶ φορέεσκον ἐπὶ στρεπτοῖσι χιτῶσι,
δῶκε δ’ ἑταίροισιν κατάγειν κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας.
αὐτὰρ ὁ ἂψ ἐπόρουσε δαϊζέμεναι μενεαίνων.
Ἔνθ’ υἷι Πριάμοιο συνήντετο Δαρδανίδαο
ἐκ ποταμοῦ φεύγοντι Λυκάονι, τόν ῥά ποτ’ αὐτὸς
ἦγε λαβὼν ἐκ πατρὸς ἀλωῆς οὐκ ἐθέλοντα,
ἐννύχιος προμολών· ὁ δ’ ἐρινεὸν ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ
τάμνε νέους ὄρπηκας, ἵν’ ἅρματος ἄντυγες εἶεν·
τῷ δ’ ἄρ’ ἀνώϊστον κακὸν ἤλυθε δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς.
καὶ τότε μέν μιν Λῆμνον ἐϋκτιμένην ἐπέρασσε
νηυσὶν ἄγων, ἀτὰρ υἱὸς Ἰήσονος ὦνον ἔδωκε·
κεῖθεν δὲ ξεῖνός μιν ἐλύσατο, πολλὰ δ’ ἔδωκεν,
Ἴμβριος Ἠετίων, πέμψεν δ’ ἐς δῖαν Ἀρίσβην·
ἔνθεν ὑπεκπροφυγὼν πατρώϊον ἵκετο δῶμα.
ἕνδεκα δ’ ἤματα θυμὸν ἐτέρπετο οἷσι φίλοισιν
ἐλθὼν ἐκ Λήμνοιο· δυωδεκάτῃ δέ μιν αὖτις
χερσὶν Ἀχιλλῆος θεὸς ἔμβαλεν, ὅς μιν ἔμελλε
πέμψειν εἰς Ἀΐδαο καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλοντα νέεσθαι.
τὸν δ’ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
γυμνόν, ἄτερ κόρυθός τε καὶ ἀσπίδος, οὐδ’ ἔχεν ἔγχος,
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν ῥ’ ἀπὸ πάντα χαμαὶ βάλε· τεῖρε γὰρ ἱδρὼς
φεύγοντ’ ἐκ ποταμοῦ, κάματος δ’ ὑπὸ γούνατ’ ἐδάμνα·
ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·

«ὢ πόποι, ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ’ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι·
ἦ μάλα δὴ Τρῶες μεγαλήτορες οὕς περ ἔπεφνον,
αὖτις ἀναστήσονται ὑπὸ ζόφου ἠερόεντος,
οἷον δὴ καὶ ὅδ’ ἦλθε φυγὼν ὕπο νηλεὲς ἦμαρ,
Λῆμνον ἐς ἠγαθέην πεπερημένος· οὐδέ μιν ἔσχε
πόντος ἁλὸς πολιῆς, ὁ πολέας ἀέκοντας ἐρύκει.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ καὶ δουρὸς ἀκωκῆς ἡμετέροιο
γεύσεται, ὄφρα ἴδωμαι ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἠδὲ δαείω
ἢ ἄρ’ ὁμῶς καὶ κεῖθεν ἐλεύσεται, ἦ μιν ἐρύξει
γῆ φυσίζοος, ἥ τε κατὰ κρατερόν περ ἐρύκει.»
Ὣς ὅρμαινε μένων· ὁ δέ οἱ σχεδὸν ἦλθε τεθηπώς,
γούνων ἅψασθαι μεμαώς, περὶ δ’ ἤθελε θυμῷ
ἐκφυγέειν θάνατόν τε κακὸν καὶ κῆρα μέλαιναν.
ἤτοι ὁ μὲν δόρυ μακρὸν ἀνέσχετο δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
οὐτάμεναι μεμαώς, ὁ δ’ ὑπέδραμε καὶ λάβε γούνων
κύψας· ἐγχείη δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπὲρ νώτου ἐνὶ γαίῃ
ἔστη, ἱεμένη χροὸς ἄμεναι ἀνδρομέοιο.
αὐτὰρ ὁ τῇ ἑτέρῃ μὲν ἑλὼν ἐλλίσσετο γούνων,
τῇ δ’ ἑτέρῃ ἔχεν ἔγχος ἀκαχμένον οὐδὲ μεθίει·
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«γουνοῦμαι σ’, Ἀχιλεῦ· σὺ δέ μ’ αἴδεο καί μ’ ἐλέησον·
ἀντί τοί εἰμ’ ἱκέταο, διοτρεφὲς αἰδοίοιο·
πὰρ γὰρ σοὶ πρώτῳ πασάμην Δημήτερος ἀκτήν,
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε μ’ εἷλες ἐϋκτιμένῃ ἐν ἀλωῇ,
καί μ’ ἐπέρασσας ἄνευθεν ἄγων πατρός τε φίλων τε
Λῆμνον ἐς ἠγαθέην, ἑκατόμβοιον δέ τοι ἦλφον.
νῦν δὲ λύμην τρὶς τόσσα πορών· ἠὼς δέ μοί ἐστιν
ἧδε δυωδεκάτη, ὅτ’ ἐς Ἴλιον εἰλήλουθα
πολλὰ παθών· νῦν αὖ με τεῇς ἐν χερσὶν ἔθηκε
μοῖρ’ ὀλόη· μέλλω που ἀπεχθέσθαι Διὶ πατρί,
ὅς με σοὶ αὖτις δῶκε· μινυνθάδιον δέ με μήτηρ

γείνατο Λαοθόη, θυγάτηρ Ἄλταο γέροντος,
Ἄλτεω, ὃς Λελέγεσσι φιλοπτολέμοισιν ἀνάσσει,
Πήδασον αἰπήεσσαν ἔχων ἐπὶ Σατνιόεντι.
τοῦ δ’ ἔχε θυγατέρα Πρίαμος, πολλὰς δὲ καὶ ἄλλας·
τῆς δὲ δύω γενόμεσθα, σὺ δ’ ἄμφω δειροτομήσεις,
ἤτοι τὸν πρώτοισι μετὰ πρυλέεσσι δάμασσας,
ἀντίθεον Πολύδωρον, ἐπεὶ βάλες ὀξέϊ δουρί·
νῦν δὲ δὴ ἐνθάδ’ ἐμοὶ κακὸν ἔσσεται· οὐ γὰρ ὀΐω
σὰς χεῖρας φεύξεσθαι, ἐπεί ῥ’ ἐπέλασσέ γε δαίμων.
ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ’ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσι·
μή με κτεῖν’, ἐπεὶ οὐχ ὁμογάστριος Ἕκτορός εἰμι,
ὅς τοι ἑταῖρον ἔπεφνεν ἐνηέα τε κρατερόν τε.»
Ὣς ἄρα μιν Πριάμοιο προσηύδα φαίδιμος υἱὸς
λισσόμενος ἐπέεσσιν, ἀμείλικτον δ’ ὄπ’ ἄκουσε·
«νήπιε, μή μοι ἄποινα πιφαύσκεο μηδ’ ἀγόρευε·
πρὶν μὲν γὰρ Πάτροκλον ἐπισπεῖν αἴσιμον ἦμαρ,
τόφρά τί μοι πεφιδέσθαι ἐνὶ φρεσὶ φίλτερον ἦεν
Τρώων, καὶ πολλοὺς ζωοὺς ἕλον ἠδ’ ἐπέρασσα·
νῦν δ’ οὐκ ἔσθ’ ὅς τις θάνατον φύγῃ, ὅν κε θεός γε
Ἰλίου προπάροιθεν ἐμῇς ἐν χερσὶ βάλῃσι,
καὶ πάντων Τρώων, περὶ δ’ αὖ Πριάμοιό γε παίδων.
ἀλλά, φίλος, θάνε καὶ σύ· τί ἦ ὀλοφύρεαι οὕτως;
κάτθανε καὶ Πάτροκλος, ὅ περ σέο πολλὸν ἀμείνων.
οὐχ ὁράᾳς οἷος καὶ ἐγὼ καλός τε μέγας τε;
πατρὸς δ’ εἴμ’ ἀγαθοῖο, θεὰ δέ με γείνατο μήτηρ·
ἀλλ’ ἔπι τοι καὶ ἐμοὶ θάνατος καὶ μοῖρα κραταιή·
ἔσσεται ἢ ἠὼς ἢ δείλη ἢ μέσον ἦμαρ,

ὁππότε τις καὶ ἐμεῖο Ἄρῃ ἐκ θυμὸν ἕληται
ἢ ὅ γε δουρὶ βαλὼν ἢ ἀπὸ νευρῆφιν ὀϊστῷ.»
Ὣς φάτο, τοῦ δ’ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ·
ἔγχος μέν ῥ’ ἀφέηκεν, ὁ δ’ ἕζετο χεῖρε πετάσσας
ἀμφοτέρας· Ἀχιλεὺς δὲ ἐρυσσάμενος ξίφος ὀξὺ
τύψε κατὰ κληῗδα παρ’ αὐχένα, πᾶν δέ οἱ εἴσω
δῦ ξίφος ἄμφηκες· ὁ δ’ ἄρα πρηνὴς ἐπὶ γαίῃ
κεῖτο ταθείς, ἐκ δ’ αἷμα μέλαν ῥέε, δεῦε δὲ γαῖαν.
τὸν δ’ Ἀχιλεὺς ποταμόνδε λαβὼν ποδὸς ἧκε φέρεσθαι,
καί οἱ ἐπευχόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντ’ ἀγόρευεν·
«ἐνταυθοῖ νῦν κεῖσο μετ’ ἰχθύσιν, οἵ σ’ ὠτειλὴν
αἷμ’ ἀπολιχμήσονται ἀκηδέες· οὐδέ σε μήτηρ
ἐνθεμένη λεχέεσσι γοήσεται, ἀλλὰ Σκάμανδρος
οἴσει δινήεις εἴσω ἁλὸς εὐρέα κόλπον·
θρῴσκων τις κατὰ κῦμα μέλαιναν φρῖχ’ ὑπαΐξει
ἰχθύς, ὅς κε φάγῃσι Λυκάονος ἀργέτα δημόν.
φθείρεσθ’, εἰς ὅ κεν ἄστυ κιχείομεν Ἰλίου ἱρῆς,
ὑμεῖς μὲν φεύγοντες, ἐγὼ δ’ ὄπιθεν κεραΐζων.
οὐδ’ ὑμῖν ποταμός περ ἐΰρροος ἀργυροδίνης
ἀρκέσει, ᾧ δὴ δηθὰ πολέας ἱερεύετε ταύρους,
ζωοὺς δ’ ἐν δίνῃσι καθίετε μώνυχας ἵππους.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧς ὀλέεσθε κακὸν μόρον, εἰς ὅ κε πάντες
τίσετε Πατρόκλοιο φόνον καὶ λοιγὸν Ἀχαιῶν,
οὓς ἐπὶ νηυσὶ θοῇσιν ἐπέφνετε νόσφιν ἐμεῖο.»
Ὣς ἄρ’ ἔφη, ποταμὸς δὲ χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον,
ὅρμηνεν δ’ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ὅπως παύσειε πόνοιο
δῖον Ἀχιλλῆα, Τρώεσσι δὲ λοιγὸν ἀλάλκοι.

τόφρα δὲ Πηλέος υἱὸς ἔχων δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος
Ἀστεροπαίῳ ἐπᾶλτο κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων,
υἱέϊ Πηλεγόνος· τὸν δ’ Ἀξιὸς εὐρυρέεθρος
γείνατο καὶ Περίβοια, Ἀκεσσαμενοῖο θυγατρῶν
πρεσβυτάτη· τῇ γάρ ῥα μίγη ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης.
τῷ ῥ’ Ἀχιλεὺς ἐπόρουσεν, ὁ δ’ ἀντίος ἐκ ποταμοῖο
ἔστη ἔχων δύο δοῦρε· μένος δέ οἱ ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκε
Ξάνθος, ἐπεὶ κεχόλωτο δαϊκταμένων αἰζηῶν,
τοὺς Ἀχιλεὺς ἐδάϊζε κατὰ ῥόον οὐδ’ ἐλέαιρεν.
οἱ δ’ ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦσαν ἐπ’ ἀλλήλοισιν ἰόντες,
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς·
«τίς πόθεν εἰς ἀνδρῶν, ὅ μευ ἔτλης ἀντίος ἐλθεῖν;
δυστήνων δέ τε παῖδες ἐμῷ μένει ἀντιόωσι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖ Πηλεγόνος προσεφώνεε φαίδιμος υἱός·
«Πηλεΐδη μεγάθυμε, τί ἦ γενεὴν ἐρεείνεις;
εἴμ’ ἐκ Παιονίης ἐριβώλου, τηλόθ’ ἐούσης,
Παίονας ἄνδρας ἄγων δολιχεγχέας· ἥδε δέ μοι νῦν
ἠὼς ἑνδεκάτη, ὅτε Ἴλιον εἰλήλουθα.
αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ γενεὴ ἐξ Ἀξιοῦ εὐρὺ ῥέοντος,
Ἀξιοῦ, ὃς κάλλιστον ὕδωρ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἵησιν,
ὃς τέκε Πηλεγόνα κλυτὸν ἔγχεϊ· τὸν δ’ ἐμέ φασι
γείνασθαι· νῦν αὖτε μαχώμεθα, φαίδιμ’ Ἀχιλλεῦ.»
Ὣς φάτ’ ἀπειλήσας, ὁ δ’ ἀνέσχετο δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
Πηλιάδα μελίην· ὁ δ’ ἁμαρτῇ δούρασιν ἀμφὶς
ἥρως Ἀστεροπαῖος, ἐπεὶ περιδέξιος ἦεν.
καί ῥ’ ἑτέρῳ μὲν δουρὶ σάκος βάλεν, οὐδὲ διαπρὸ
ῥῆξε σάκος· χρυσὸς γὰρ ἐρύκακε δῶρα θεοῖο·
τῷ δ’ ἑτέρῳ μιν πῆχυν ἐπιγράβδην βάλε χειρὸς
δεξιτερῆς, σύτο δ’ αἷμα κελαινεφές· ἡ δ’ ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ

γαίῃ ἐνεστήρικτο, λιλαιομένη χροὸς ἆσαι.
δεύτερος αὖτ’ Ἀχιλεὺς μελίην ἰθυπτίωνα
Ἀστεροπαίῳ ἐφῆκε κατακτάμεναι μενεαίνων.
καὶ τοῦ μέν ῥ’ ἀφάμαρτεν, ὁ δ’ ὑψηλὴν βάλεν ὄχθην,
μεσσοπαγὲς δ’ ἄρ’ ἔθηκε κατ’ ὄχθης μείλινον ἔγχος.
Πηλεΐδης δ’ ἄορ ὀξὺ ἐρυσσάμενος παρὰ μηροῦ
ἆλτ’ ἐπί οἱ μεμαώς· ὁ δ’ ἄρα μελίην Ἀχιλῆος
οὐ δύνατ’ ἐκ κρημνοῖο ἐρύσσαι χειρὶ παχείῃ.
τρὶς μέν μιν πελέμιξεν ἐρύσσασθαι μενεαίνων,
τρὶς δὲ μεθῆκε βίης· τὸ δὲ τέτρατον ἤθελε θυμῷ
ἆξαι ἐπιγνάμψας δόρυ μείλινον Αἰακίδαο,
ἀλλὰ πρὶν Ἀχιλεὺς σχεδὸν ἄορι θυμὸν ἀπηύρα.
γαστέρα γάρ μιν τύψε παρ’ ὀμφαλόν, ἐκ δ’ ἄρα πᾶσαι
χύντο χαμαὶ χολάδες· τὸν δὲ σκότος ὄσσε κάλυψεν
ἀσθμαίνοντ’· Ἀχιλεὺς δ’ ἄρ’ ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ὀρούσας
τεύχεά τ’ ἐξενάριξε καὶ εὐχόμενος ἔπος ηὔδα·
«κεῖσ’ οὕτως· χαλεπόν τοι ἐρισθενέος Κρονίωνος
παισὶν ἐριζέμεναι ποταμοῖό περ ἐκγεγαῶτι.
φῆσθα σὺ μὲν ποταμοῦ γένος ἔμμεναι εὐρὺ ῥέοντος,
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ γενεὴν μεγάλου Διὸς εὔχομαι εἶναι.
τίκτέ μ’ ἀνὴρ πολλοῖσιν ἀνάσσων Μυρμιδόνεσσι,
Πηλεὺς Αἰακίδης· ὁ δ’ ἄρ’ Αἰακὸς ἐκ Διὸς ἦεν.
τὼ κρείσσων μὲν Ζεὺς ποταμῶν ἁλιμυρηέντων,
κρείσσων αὖτε Διὸς γενεὴ ποταμοῖο τέτυκται.
καὶ γὰρ σοὶ ποταμός γε πάρα μέγας, εἰ δύναταί τι
χραισμεῖν· ἀλλ’ οὐκ ἔστι Διὶ Κρονίωνι μάχεσθαι,
τῷ οὐδὲ κρείων Ἀχελώϊος ἰσοφαρίζει,
οὐδὲ βαθυρρείταο μέγα σθένος Ὠκεανοῖο,

ἐξ οὗ περ πάντες ποταμοὶ καὶ πᾶσα θάλασσα
καὶ πᾶσαι κρῆναι καὶ φρείατα μακρὰ νάουσιν·
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὃς δείδοικε Διὸς μεγάλοιο κεραυνὸν
δεινήν τε βροντήν, ὅτ’ ἀπ’ οὐρανόθεν σμαραγήσῃ.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἐκ κρημνοῖο ἐρύσσατο χάλκεον ἔγχος,
τὸν δὲ κατ’ αὐτόθι λεῖπεν, ἐπεὶ φίλον ἦτορ ἀπηύρα,
κείμενον ἐν ψαμάθοισι, δίαινε δέ μιν μέλαν ὕδωρ.
τὸν μὲν ἄρ’ ἐγχέλυές τε καὶ ἰχθύες ἀμφεπένοντο,
δημὸν ἐρεπτόμενοι ἐπινεφρίδιον κείροντες·
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ ῥ’ ἰέναι μετὰ Παίονας ἱπποκορυστάς,
οἵ ῥ’ ἔτι πὰρ ποταμὸν πεφοβήατο δινήεντα,
ὡς εἶδον τὸν ἄριστον ἐνὶ κρατερῇ ὑσμίνῃ
χέρσ’ ὕπο Πηλεΐδαο καὶ ἄορι ἶφι δαμέντα.
ἔνθ’ ἕλε Θερσίλοχόν τε Μύδωνά τε Ἀστύπυλόν τε
Μνῆσόν τε Θρασίον τε καὶ Αἴνιον ἠδ’ Ὀφελέστην·
καί νύ κ’ ἔτι πλέονας κτάνε Παίονας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς,
εἰ μὴ χωσάμενος προσέφη ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης,
ἀνέρι εἰσάμενος, βαθέης δ’ ἐκ φθέγξατο δίνης·
«ὦ Ἀχιλεῦ, περὶ μὲν κρατέεις, περὶ δ’ αἴσυλα ῥέζεις
ἀνδρῶν· αἰεὶ γάρ τοι ἀμύνουσιν θεοὶ αὐτοί.
εἴ τοι Τρῶας ἔδωκε Κρόνου παῖς πάντας ὀλέσσαι,
ἐξ ἐμέθεν γ’ ἐλάσας πεδίον κάτα μέρμερα ῥέζε·
πλήθει γὰρ δή μοι νεκύων ἐρατεινὰ ῥέεθρα,
οὐδέ τί πῃ δύναμαι προχέειν ῥόον εἰς ἅλα δῖαν
στεινόμενος νεκύεσσι, σὺ δὲ κτείνεις ἀϊδήλως.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ καὶ ἔασον· ἄγη μ’ ἔχει ὄρχαμε λαῶν.»
Τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς·
«ἔσται ταῦτα, Σκάμανδρε διοτρεφές, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.

Τρῶας δ’ οὐ πρὶν λήξω ὑπερφιάλους ἐναρίζων,
πρὶν ἔλσαι κατὰ ἄστυ καὶ Ἕκτορι πειρηθῆναι
ἀντιβίην, ἤ κέν με δαμάσσεται, ἦ κεν ἐγὼ τόν.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν Τρώεσσιν ἐπέσσυτο δαίμονι ἶσος·
καὶ τότ’ Ἀπόλλωνα προσέφη ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης·
«ὢ πόποι, ἀργυρότοξε, Διὸς τέκος οὐ σύ γε βουλὰς
εἰρύσαο Κρονίωνος, ὅ τοι μάλα πόλλ’ ἐπέτελλε
Τρωσὶ παρεστάμεναι καὶ ἀμύνειν, εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθῃ
δείελος ὀψὲ δύων, σκιάσῃ δ’ ἐρίβωλον ἄρουραν.»
Ἦ, καὶ Ἀχιλλεὺς μὲν δουρικλυτὸς ἔνθορε μέσσῳ
κρημνοῦ ἀπαΐξας· ὁ δ’ ἐπέσσυτο οἴδματι θύων,
πάντα δ’ ὄρινε ῥέεθρα κυκώμενος, ὦσε δὲ νεκροὺς
πολλούς, οἵ ῥα κατ’ αὐτὸν ἅλις ἔσαν, οὓς κτάν’ Ἀχιλλεύς·
τοὺς ἔκβαλλε θύραζε μεμυκὼς ἠΰτε ταῦρος
χέρσον δέ· ζωοὺς δὲ σάω κατὰ καλὰ ῥέεθρα,
κρύπτων ἐν δίνῃσι βαθείῃσιν μεγάλῃσι.
δεινὸν δ’ ἀμφ’ Ἀχιλῆα κυκώμενον ἵστατο κῦμα,
ὤθει δ’ ἐν σάκεϊ πίπτων ῥόος· οὐδὲ πόδεσσιν
εἶχε στηρίξασθαι· ὁ δὲ πτελέην ἕλε χερσὶν
εὐφυέα μεγάλην· ἣ δ’ ἐκ ῥιζῶν ἐριποῦσα
κρημνὸν ἅπαντα διῶσεν, ἐπέσχε δὲ καλὰ ῥέεθρα
ὄζοισιν πυκινοῖσι, γεφύρωσεν δέ μιν αὐτὸν
εἴσω πᾶσ’ ἐριποῦσ’· ὁ δ’ ἄρ’ ἐκ δίνης ἀνορούσας
ἤϊξεν πεδίοιο ποσὶ κραιπνοῖσι πέτεσθαι,
δείσας· οὐδέ τ’ ἔληγε θεὸς μέγας, ὦρτο δ’ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ
ἀκροκελαινιόων, ἵνα μιν παύσειε πόνοιο
δῖον Ἀχιλλῆα, Τρώεσσι δὲ λοιγὸν ἀλάλκοι.
Πηλεΐδης δ’ ἀπόρουσεν ὅσον τ’ ἐπὶ δουρὸς ἐρωή,

αἰετοῦ οἴματ’ ἔχων μέλανος τοῦ θηρητῆρος,
ὅς θ’ ἅμα κάρτιστός τε καὶ ὤκιστος πετεηνῶν·
τῷ ἐϊκὼς ἤϊξεν, ἐπὶ στήθεσσι δὲ χαλκὸς
σμερδαλέον κονάβιζεν· ὕπαιθα δὲ τοῖο λιασθεὶς
φεῦγ’, ὁ δ’ ὄπισθε ῥέων ἕπετο μεγάλῳ ὀρυμαγδῷ.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἀνὴρ ὀχετηγὸς ἀπὸ κρήνης μελανύδρου
ἂμ φυτὰ καὶ κήπους ὕδατι ῥόον ἡγεμονεύῃ
χερσὶ μάκελλαν ἔχων, ἀμάρης ἐξ ἔχματα βάλλων·
τοῦ μέν τε προρέοντος ὑπὸ ψηφῖδες ἅπασαι
ὀχλεῦνται· τὸ δέ τ’ ὦκα κατειβόμενον κελαρύζει
χώρῳ ἔνι προαλεῖ, φθάνει δέ τε καὶ τὸν ἄγοντα·
ὣς αἰεὶ Ἀχιλῆα κιχήσατο κῦμα ῥόοιο
καὶ λαιψηρὸν ἐόντα· θεοὶ δέ τε φέρτεροι ἀνδρῶν.
ὁσσάκι δ’ ὁρμήσειε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
στῆναι ἐναντίβιον καὶ γνώμεναι εἴ μιν ἅπαντες
ἀθάνατοι φοβέουσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,
τοσσάκι μιν μέγα κῦμα διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
πλάζ’ ὤμους καθύπερθεν· ὁ δ’ ὑψόσε ποσσὶν ἐπήδα
θυμῷ ἀνιάζων· ποταμὸς δ’ ὑπὸ γούνατ’ ἐδάμνα
λάβρος ὕπαιθα ῥέων, κονίην δ’ ὑπέρεπτε ποδοῖιν.
Πηλεΐδης δ’ ᾤμωξεν ἰδὼν εἰς οὐρανὸν εὐρύν·
«Ζεῦ πάτερ, ὡς οὔ τίς με θεῶν ἐλεεινὸν ὑπέστη
ἐκ ποταμοῖο σαῶσαι· ἔπειτα δὲ καί τι πάθοιμι.
ἄλλος δ’ οὔ τις μοι τόσον αἴτιος Οὐρανιώνων,
ἀλλὰ φίλη μήτηρ, ἥ με ψεύδεσσιν ἔθελγεν·
ἥ μ’ ἔφατο Τρώων ὑπὸ τείχεϊ θωρηκτάων
λαιψηροῖς ὀλέεσθαι Ἀπόλλωνος βελέεσσιν.
ὥς μ’ ὄφελ’ Ἕκτωρ κτεῖναι ὃς ἐνθάδε γ’ ἔτραφ’ ἄριστος·

τῶ κ’ ἀγαθὸς μὲν ἔπεφν’, ἀγαθὸν δέ κεν ἐξενάριξε·
νῦν δέ με λευγαλέῳ θανάτῳ εἵμαρτο ἁλῶναι
ἐρχθέντ’ ἐν μεγάλῳ ποταμῷ, ὡς παῖδα συφορβόν,
ὅν ῥά τ’ ἔναυλος ἀποέρσῃ χειμῶνι περῶντα.»
Ὣς φάτο, τῷ δὲ μάλ’ ὦκα Ποσειδάων καὶ Ἀθήνη
στήτην ἐγγὺς ἰόντε, δέμας δ’ ἄνδρεσσιν ἐΐκτην,
χειρὶ δὲ χεῖρα λαβόντες ἐπιστώσαντ’ ἐπέεσσι.
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·
«Πηλεΐδη, μήτ’ ἄρ τι λίην τρέε μήτέ τι τάρβει·
τοίω γάρ τοι νῶϊ θεῶν ἐπιταῤῥόθω εἰμέν,
Ζηνὸς ἐπαινήσαντος, ἐγὼ καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη·
ὡς οὔ τοι ποταμῷ γε δαμήμεναι αἴσιμόν ἐστιν,
ἀλλ’ ὅδε μὲν τάχα λωφήσει, σὺ δὲ εἴσεαι αὐτός·
αὐτάρ τοι πυκινῶς ὑποθησόμεθ’, αἴ κε πίθηαι·
μὴ πρὶν παύειν χεῖρας ὁμοιΐου πολέμοιο,
πρὶν κατὰ Ἰλιόφι κλυτὰ τείχεα λαὸν ἐέλσαι
Τρωϊκόν, ὅς κε φύγῃσι· σὺ δ’ Ἕκτορι θυμὸν ἀπούρας
ἂψ ἐπὶ νῆας ἴμεν· δίδομεν δέ τοι εὖχος ἀρέσθαι.»
Τὼ μὲν ἄρ’ ὣς εἰπόντε μετ’ ἀθανάτους ἀπεβήτην·
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ, μέγα γάρ ῥα θεῶν ὄτρυνεν ἐφετμή,
ἐς πεδίον· τὸ δὲ πᾶν πλῆθ’ ὕδατος ἐκχυμένοιο,
πολλὰ δὲ τεύχεα καλὰ δαὶ κταμένων αἰζηῶν
πλῶον καὶ νέκυες· τοῦ δ’ ὑψόσε γούνατ’ ἐπήδα
πρὸς ῥόον ἀΐσσοντος ἀν’ ἰθύν, οὐδέ μιν ἴσχεν
εὐρὺ ῥέων ποταμός· μέγα γὰρ σθένος ἔμβαλ’ Ἀθήνη.
οὐδὲ Σκάμανδρος ἔληγε τὸ ὃν μένος, ἀλλ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον
χώετο Πηλεΐωνι, κόρυσσε δὲ κῦμα ῥόοιο
ὑψόσ’ ἀειρόμενος, Σιμόεντι δὲ κέκλετ’ ἀΰσας·
«φίλε κασίγνητε σθένος ἀνέρος ἀμφότεροί περ

σχῶμεν, ἐπεὶ τάχα ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος
ἐκπέρσει, Τρῶες δὲ κατὰ μόθον οὐ μενέουσιν.
ἀλλ’ ἐπάμυνε τάχιστα, καὶ ἐμπίπληθι ῥέεθρα
ὕδατος ἐκ πηγέων, πάντας δ’ ὀρόθυνον ἐναύλους,
ἵστη δὲ μέγα κῦμα, πολὺν δ’ ὀρυμαγδὸν ὄρινε
φιτρῶν καὶ λάων, ἵνα παύσομεν ἄγριον ἄνδρα,
ὃς δὴ νῦν κρατέει, μέμονεν δ’ ὅ γε ἶσα θεοῖσι.
φημὶ γὰρ οὔτε βίην χραισμησέμεν οὔτέ τι εἶδος,
οὔτε τὰ τεύχεα καλά, τά που μάλα νειόθι λίμνης
κείσεθ’ ὑπ’ ἰλύος κεκαλυμμένα· κὰδ δέ μιν αὐτὸν
εἰλύσω ψαμάθοισιν ἅλις χέραδος περιχεύας
μυρίον, οὐδέ οἱ ὀστέ’ ἐπιστήσονται Ἀχαιοὶ
ἀλλέξαι· τόσσην οἱ ἄσιν καθύπερθε καλύψω.
αὐτοῦ οἱ καὶ σῆμα τετεύξεται, οὐδέ τί μιν χρεὼ
ἔσται τυμβοχόης, ὅτε μιν θάπτωσιν Ἀχαιοί.»
Ἦ, καὶ ἐπῶρτ’ Ἀχιλῆϊ κυκώμενος, ὑψόσε θύων,
μορμύρων ἀφρῷ τε καὶ αἵματι καὶ νεκύεσσι.
πορφύρεον δ’ ἄρα κῦμα διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
ἵστατ’ ἀειρόμενον, κατὰ δ’ ᾕρεε Πηλεΐωνα·
Ἥρη δὲ μέγ’ ἄϋσε περιδείσασ’ Ἀχιλῆϊ,
μή μιν ἀποέρσειε μέγας ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης,
αὐτίκα δ’ Ἥφαιστον προσεφώνεεν ὃν φίλον υἱόν·
«ὄρσεο, κυλλοπόδιον, ἐμὸν τέκος· ἄντα σέθεν γὰρ
Ξάνθον δινήεντα μάχῃ ἠΐσκομεν εἶναι·
ἀλλ’ ἐπάμυνε τάχιστα, πιφαύσκεο δὲ φλόγα πολλήν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ Ζεφύροιο καὶ ἀργεστᾶο Νότοιο
εἴσομαι ἐξ ἁλόθεν χαλεπὴν ὄρσουσα θύελλαν,
ἥ κεν ἀπὸ Τρώων κεφαλὰς καὶ τεύχεα κήαι,
φλέγμα κακὸν φορέουσα· σὺ δὲ Ξάνθοιο παρ’ ὄχθας

δένδρεα καῖ’, ἐν δ’ αὐτὸν ἵει πυρί· μὴ δέ σε πάμπαν
μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσιν ἀποτρεπέτω καὶ ἀρειῇ·
μὴ δὲ πρὶν ἀπόπαυε τεὸν μένος, ἀλλ’ ὁπότ’ ἂν δὴ
φθέγξομ’ ἐγὼν ἰάχουσα, τότε σχεῖν ἀκάματον πῦρ.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, Ἥφαιστος δὲ τιτύσκετο θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ.
πρῶτα μὲν ἐν πεδίῳ πῦρ δαίετο, καῖε δὲ νεκροὺς
πολλούς, οἵ ῥα κατ’ αὐτὸν ἅλις ἔσαν, οὓς κτάν’ Ἀχιλλεύς·
πᾶν δ’ ἐξηράνθη πεδίον, σχέτο δ’ ἀγλαὸν ὕδωρ.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ὀπωρινὸς Βορέης νεοαρδέ’ ἀλωὴν
αἶψ’ ἀγξηράνῃ· χαίρει δέ μιν ὅς τις ἐθείρῃ·
ὣς ἐξηράνθη πεδίον πᾶν, κὰδ δ’ ἄρα νεκροὺς
κῆεν· ὁ δ’ ἐς ποταμὸν τρέψε φλόγα παμφανόωσαν.
καίοντο πτελέαι τε καὶ ἰτέαι ἠδὲ μυρῖκαι,
καίετο δὲ λωτός τε ἰδὲ θρύον ἠδὲ κύπειρον,
τὰ περὶ καλὰ ῥέεθρα ἅλις ποταμοῖο πεφύκει·
τείροντ’ ἐγχέλυές τε καὶ ἰχθύες οἳ κατὰ δίνας,
οἳ κατὰ καλὰ ῥέεθρα κυβίστων ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα
πνοιῇ τειρόμενοι πολυμήτιος Ἡφαίστοιο.
καίετο δ’ ἲς ποταμοῖο ἔπος τ’ ἔφατ’ ἔκ τ’ ὀνόμαζεν·
«Ἥφαιστ’, οὔ τις σοί γε θεῶν δύνατ’ ἀντιφερίζειν,
οὐδ’ ἂν ἐγὼ σοί γ’ ὧδε πυρὶ φλεγέθοντι μαχοίμην.
λῆγ’ ἔριδος, Τρῶας δὲ καὶ αὐτίκα δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἄστεος ἐξελάσειε· τί μοι ἔριδος καὶ ἀρωγῆς;»
Φῆ πυρὶ καιόμενος, ἀνὰ δ’ ἔφλυε καλὰ ῥέεθρα.
ὡς δὲ λέβης ζεῖ ἔνδον ἐπειγόμενος πυρὶ πολλῷ,
κνίσην μελδόμενος ἁπαλοτρεφέος σιάλοιο,
πάντοθεν ἀμβολάδην, ὑπὸ δὲ ξύλα κάγκανα κεῖται,
ὣς τοῦ καλὰ ῥέεθρα πυρὶ φλέγετο, ζέε δ’ ὕδωρ·

οὐδ’ ἔθελε προρέειν, ἀλλ’ ἴσχετο· τεῖρε δ’ ἀϋτμὴ
Ἡφαίστοιο βίηφι πολύφρονος. αὐτὰρ ὅ γ’ Ἥρην
πολλὰ λισσόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«Ἥρη, τίπτε σὸς υἱὸς ἐμὸν ῥόον ἔχραε κήδειν
ἐξ ἄλλων; οὐ μέν τοι ἐγὼ τόσον αἴτιός εἰμι,
ὅσσον οἱ ἄλλοι πάντες, ὅσοι Τρώεσσιν ἀρωγοί.
ἀλλ’ ἤτοι μὲν ἐγὼν ἀποπαύσομαι εἰ σὺ κελεύεις,
παυέσθω δὲ καὶ οὗτος· ἐγὼ δ’ ἐπὶ καὶ τόδ’ ὀμοῦμαι,
μή ποτ’ ἐπὶ Τρώεσσιν ἀλεξήσειν κακὸν ἦμαρ,
μὴ δ’ ὁπότ’ ἂν Τροίη μαλερῷ πυρὶ πᾶσα δάηται
καιομένη, καίωσι δ’ ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν.»
Αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γ’ ἄκουσε θεὰ λευκώλενος Ἥρη,
αὐτίκ’ ἄρ’ Ἥφαιστον προσεφώνεεν ὃν φίλον υἱόν·
«Ἥφαιστε, σχέο, τέκνον ἀγακλεές· οὐ γὰρ ἔοικεν
ἀθάνατον θεὸν ὧδε βροτῶν ἕνεκα στυφελίζειν.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, Ἥφαιστος δὲ κατέσβεσε θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ,
ἄψοῤῥον δ’ ἄρα κῦμα κατέσσυτο καλὰ ῥέεθρα.
Αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ Ξάνθοιο δάμη μένος, οἳ μὲν ἔπειτα
παυσάσθην· Ἥρη γὰρ ἐρύκακε χωομένη περ·
ἐν δ’ ἄλλοισι θεοῖσιν ἔρις πέσε βεβριθυῖα
ἀργαλέη, δίχα δέ σφιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸς ἄητο·
σὺν δ’ ἔπεσον μεγάλῳ πατάγῳ, βράχε δ’ εὐρεῖα χθών,
ἀμφὶ δὲ σάλπιγξεν μέγας οὐρανός. ἄϊε δὲ Ζεὺς
ἥμενος Οὐλύμπῳ· ἐγέλασσε δέ οἱ φίλον ἦτορ
γηθοσύνῃ, ὅθ’ ὁρᾶτο θεοὺς ἔριδι ξυνιόντας.
ἔνθ’ οἵ γ’ οὐκέτι δηρὸν ἀφέστασαν· ἦρχε γὰρ Ἄρης
ῥινοτόρος, καὶ πρῶτος Ἀθηναίῃ ἐπόρουσε
χάλκεον ἔγχος ἔχων, καὶ ὀνείδειον φάτο μῦθον·
«τίπτ’ αὖτ’, ὦ κυνάμυια θεοὺς ἔριδι ξυνελαύνεις
θάρσος ἄητον ἔχουσα, μέγας δέ σε θυμὸς ἀνῆκεν;
ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε Τυδεΐδην Διομήδε’ ἀνῆκας

οὐτάμεναι, αὐτὴ δὲ πανόψιον ἔγχος ἑλοῦσα
ἰθὺς ἐμεῦ ὦσας, διὰ δὲ χρόα καλὸν ἔδαψας;
τώ σ’ αὖ νῦν ὀΐω ἀποτισέμεν ὅσσα ἔοργας.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν οὔτησε κατ’ αἰγίδα θυσσανόεσσαν
σμερδαλέην, ἣν οὐδὲ Διὸς δάμνησι κεραυνός·
τῇ μιν Ἄρης οὔτησε μιαιφόνος ἔγχεϊ μακρῷ.
ἡ δ’ ἀναχασσαμένη λίθον εἵλετο χειρὶ παχείῃ
κείμενον ἐν πεδίῳ μέλανα, τρηχύν τε μέγαν τε,
τόν ῥ’ ἄνδρες πρότεροι θέσαν ἔμμεναι οὖρον ἀρούρης·
τῷ βάλε θοῦρον Ἄρηα κατ’ αὐχένα, λῦσε δὲ γυῖα.
ἑπτὰ δ’ ἐπέσχε πέλεθρα πεσών, ἐκόνισε δὲ χαίτας,
τεύχεά τ’ ἀμφαράβησε· γέλασσε δὲ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη,
καί οἱ ἐπευχομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«νηπύτι’, οὐδέ νύ πώ περ ἐπεφράσω ὅσσον ἀρείων
εὔχομ’ ἐγὼν ἔμεναι, ὅτι μοι μένος ἰσοφαρίζεις.
οὕτω κεν τῆς μητρὸς ἐρινύας ἐξαποτίνοις,
ἥ τοι χωομένη κακὰ μήδεται οὕνεκ’ Ἀχαιοὺς
κάλλιπες, αὐτὰρ Τρωσὶν ὑπερφιάλοισιν ἀμύνεις.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασα πάλιν τρέπεν ὄσσε φαεινώ·
τὸν δ’ ἄγε χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη
πυκνὰ μάλα στενάχοντα· μόγις δ’ ἐσαγείρετο θυμόν.
τὴν δ’ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησε θεὰ λευκώλενος Ἥρη,
αὐτίκ’ Ἀθηναίην ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«ὢ πόποι, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη,
καὶ δ’ αὖθ’ ἡ κυνάμυια ἄγει βροτολοιγὸν Ἄρηα
δηΐου ἐκ πολέμοιο κατὰ κλόνον· ἀλλὰ μέτελθε.»
Ὣς φάτ’, Ἀθηναίη δὲ μετέσσυτο, χαῖρε δὲ θυμῷ,
καί ῥ’ ἐπιεισαμένη πρὸς στήθεα χειρὶ παχείῃ

ἤλασε· τῆς δ’ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ.
τὼ μὲν ἄρ’ ἄμφω κεῖντο ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ,
ἡ δ’ ἄρ’ ἐπευχομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντ’ ἀγόρευε·
«τοιοῦτοι νῦν πάντες, ὅσοι Τρώεσσιν ἀρωγοί,
εἶεν, ὅτ’ Ἀργείοισι μαχοίατο θωρηκτῇσιν,
ὧδέ τε θαρσαλέοι καὶ τλήμονες, ὡς Ἀφροδίτη
ἦλθεν Ἄρῃ ἐπίκουρος ἐμῷ μένει ἀντιόωσα·
τώ κεν δὴ πάλαι ἄμμες ἐπαυσάμεθα πτολέμοιο,
Ἰλίου ἐκπέρσαντες ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον.»
Ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ θεὰ λευκώλενος Ἥρη.
αὐτὰρ Ἀπόλλωνα προσέφη κρείων ἐνοσίχθων·
«Φοῖβε, τίη δὴ νῶϊ διέσταμεν; οὐδὲ ἔοικεν
ἀρξάντων ἑτέρων· τὸ μὲν αἴσχιον αἴ κ’ ἀμαχητὶ
ἴομεν Οὔλυμπονδε Διὸς ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ.
ἄρχε· σὺ γὰρ γενεῆφι νεώτερος· οὐ γὰρ ἔμοιγε
καλόν, ἐπεὶ πρότερος γενόμην καὶ πλείονα οἶδα.
νηπύτι’, ὡς ἄνοον κραδίην ἔχες· οὐδέ νυ τῶν περ
μέμνηαι, ὅσα δὴ πάθομεν κακὰ Ἴλιον ἀμφὶ
μοῦνοι νῶϊ θεῶν, ὅτ’ ἀγήνορι Λαομέδοντι
πὰρ Διὸς ἐλθόντες θητεύσαμεν εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν
μισθῷ ἔπι ῥητῷ· ὁ δὲ σημαίνων ἐπέτελλεν.
ἤτοι ἐγὼ Τρώεσσι πόλιν πέρι τεῖχος ἔδειμα
εὐρύ τε καὶ μάλα καλόν, ἵν’ ἄῤῥηκτος πόλις εἴη·
Φοῖβε, σὺ δ’ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς βουκολέεσκες
Ἴδης ἐν κνημοῖσι πολυπτύχου ὑληέσσης.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ μισθοῖο τέλος πολυγηθέες ὧραι
ἐξέφερον, τότε νῶϊ βιήσατο μισθὸν ἅπαντα
Λαομέδων ἔκπαγλος, ἀπειλήσας δ’ ἀπέπεμπε.
σὺν μὲν ὅ γ’ ἠπείλησε πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθε

δήσειν, καὶ περάαν νήσων ἔπι τηλεδαπάων·
στεῦτο δ’ ὅ γ’ ἀμφοτέρων ἀπολεψέμεν οὔατα χαλκῷ.
νῶϊ δὲ ἄψορροι κίομεν κεκοτηότι θυμῷ,
μισθοῦ χωόμενοι, τὸν ὑποστὰς οὐκ ἐτέλεσσε.
τοῦ δὴ νῦν λαοῖσι φέρεις χάριν, οὐδὲ μεθ’ ἡμέων
πειρᾷ ὥς κε Τρῶες ὑπερφίαλοι ἀπόλωνται
πρόχνυ κακῶς, σὺν παισὶ καὶ αἰδοίῃς ἀλόχοισι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων·
«ἐννοσίγαι’, οὐκ ἄν με σαόφρονα μυθήσαιο
ἔμμεναι, εἰ δὴ σοί γε βροτῶν ἕνεκα πτολεμίξω
δειλῶν, οἳ φύλλοισιν ἐοικότες ἄλλοτε μέν τε
ζαφλεγέες τελέθουσιν, ἀρούρης καρπὸν ἔδοντες,
ἄλλοτε δὲ φθινύθουσιν ἀκήριοι. ἀλλὰ τάχιστα
παυώμεσθα μάχης· οἱ δ’ αὐτοὶ δηριαάσθων.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας πάλιν ἐτράπετ’· αἴδετο γάρ ῥα
πατροκασιγνήτοιο μιγήμεναι ἐν παλάμῃσι.
τὸν δὲ κασιγνήτη μάλα νείκεσε πότνια θηρῶν,
Ἄρτεμις ἀγροτέρη, καὶ ὀνείδειον φάτο μῦθον·
«φεύγεις δή, ἑκάεργε, Ποσειδάωνι δὲ νίκην
πᾶσαν ἐπέτρεψας, μέλεον δέ οἱ εὖχος ἔδωκας·
νηπύτιε, τί νυ τόξον ἔχεις ἀνεμώλιον αὔτως;
μή σευ νῦν ἔτι πατρὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἀκούσω
εὐχομένου, ὡς τὸ πρὶν ἐν ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,
ἄντα Ποσειδάωνος ἐναντίβιον πολεμίζειν.»
Ὣς φάτο, τὴν δ’ οὔ τι προσέφη ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων,
ἀλλὰ χολωσαμένη Διὸς αἰδοίη παράκοιτις
νείκεσεν ἰοχέαιραν ὀνειδείοις ἐπέεσσι·
«πῶς δὲ σὺ νῦν μέμονας, κύον ἀδεὲς ἀντί’ ἐμεῖο

στήσεσθαι; χαλεπή τοι ἐγὼ μένος ἀντιφέρεσθαι
τοξοφόρῳ περ ἐούσῃ, ἐπεὶ σὲ λέοντα γυναιξὶ
Ζεὺς θῆκεν, καὶ ἔδωκε κατακτάμεν ἥν κ’ ἐθέλῃσθα.
ἤτοι βέλτερόν ἐστι κατ’ οὔρεα θῆρας ἐναίρειν
ἀγροτέρας τ’ ἐλάφους ἢ κρείσσοσιν ἶφι μάχεσθαι.
εἰ δ’ ἐθέλεις πολέμοιο δαήμεναι, ὄφρ’ ἐῢ εἰδῇς
ὅσσον φερτέρη εἴμ’, ὅτι μοι μένος ἀντιφερίζεις.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ἀμφοτέρας ἐπὶ καρπῷ χεῖρας ἔμαρπτε
σκαιῇ, δεξιτερῇ δ’ ἄρ’ ἀπ’ ὤμων αἴνυτο τόξα,
αὐτοῖσιν δ’ ἄρ’ ἔθεινε παρ’ οὔατα μειδιόωσα
ἐντροπαλιζομένην· ταχέες δ’ ἔκπιπτον ὀϊστοί.
δακρυόεσσα δ’ ὕπαιθα θεὰ φύγεν ὥς τε πέλεια,
ἥ ῥά θ’ ὑπ’ ἴρηκος κοίλην εἰσέπτατο πέτρην,
χηραμόν· οὐδ’ ἄρα τῇ γε ἁλώμεναι αἴσιμον ἦεν·
ὣς ἡ δακρυόεσσα φύγεν, λίπε δ’ αὐτόθι τόξα.
Λητὼ δὲ προσέειπε διάκτορος Ἀργειφόντης·
«Λητοῖ, ἐγὼ δέ τοι οὔ τι μαχήσομαι· ἀργαλέον δὲ
πληκτίζεσθ’ ἀλόχοισι Διὸς νεφεληγερέταο·
ἀλλὰ μάλα πρόφρασσα μετ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν
εὔχεσθαι ἐμὲ νικῆσαι κρατερῆφι βίηφιν.»
Ὣς ἄρ’ ἔφη, Λητὼ δὲ συναίνυτο καμπύλα τόξα
πεπτεῶτ’ ἄλλυδις ἄλλα μετὰ στροφάλιγγι κονίης.
ἡ μὲν τόξα λαβοῦσα πάλιν κίε θυγατέρος ἧς·
ἡ δ’ ἄρ’ Ὄλυμπον ἵκανε Διὸς ποτὶ χαλκοβατὲς δῶ,
δακρυόεσσα δὲ πατρὸς ἐφέζετο γούνασι κούρη,
ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρ’ ἀμβρόσιος ἑανὸς τρέμε· τὴν δὲ προτὶ οἷ
εἷλε πατὴρ Κρονίδης, καὶ ἀνείρετο ἡδὺ γελάσσας·
«τίς νύ σε τοιάδ’ ἔρεξε, φίλον τέκος, Οὐρανιώνων
μαψιδίως, ὡς εἴ τι κακὸν ῥέζουσαν ἐνωπῇ;»

Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἐϋστέφανος κελαδεινή·
«σή μ’ ἄλοχος στυφέλιξε πάτερ λευκώλενος Ἥρη,
ἐξ ἧς ἀθανάτοισιν ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος ἐφῆπται.»
Ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
αὐτὰρ Ἀπόλλων Φοῖβος ἐδύσετο Ἴλιον ἱρήν·
μέμβλετο γάρ οἱ τεῖχος ἐϋδμήτοιο πόληος,
μὴ Δαναοὶ πέρσειαν ὑπὲρ μόρον ἤματι κείνῳ.
οἱ δ’ ἄλλοι πρὸς Ὄλυμπον ἴσαν θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
οἳ μὲν χωόμενοι, οἱ δὲ μέγα κυδιόωντες·
κὰδ δ’ ἷζον παρὰ πατρὶ κελαινεφεῖ· αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς
Τρῶας ὁμῶς αὐτούς τ’ ὄλεκεν καὶ μώνυχας ἵππους.
ὡς δ’ ὅτε καπνὸς ἰὼν εἰς οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἵκηται
ἄστεος αἰθομένοιο, θεῶν δέ ἑ μῆνις ἀνῆκε,
πᾶσι δ’ ἔθηκε πόνον, πολλοῖσι δὲ κήδε’ ἐφῆκεν,
ὣς Ἀχιλεὺς Τρώεσσι πόνον καὶ κήδε’ ἔθηκεν.
Ἑστήκει δ’ ὃ γέρων Πρίαμος θείου ἐπὶ πύργου,
ἐς δ’ ἐνόησ’ Ἀχιλῆα πελώριον· αὐτὰρ ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ
Τρῶες ἄφαρ κλονέοντο πεφυζότες, οὐδέ τις ἀλκὴ
γίγνεθ’· ὁ δ’ οἰμώξας ἀπὸ πύργου βαῖνε χαμᾶζε,
ὀτρύνων παρὰ τεῖχος ἀγακλειτοὺς πυλαωρούς·
«πεπταμένας ἐν χερσὶ πύλας ἔχετ’ εἰς ὅ κε λαοὶ
ἔλθωσι προτὶ ἄστυ πεφυζότες· ἦ γὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἐγγὺς ὅδε κλονέων· νῦν οἴω λοίγι’ ἔσεσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί κ’ ἐς τεῖχος ἀναπνεύσωσιν ἀλέντες,
αὖτις ἐπανθέμεναι σανίδας πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας·
δείδια γὰρ μὴ οὖλος ἀνὴρ ἐς τεῖχος ἅληται.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἱ δ’ ἄνεσάν τε πύλας καὶ ἀπῶσαν ὀχῆας·

αἱ δὲ πετασθεῖσαι τεῦξαν φάος· αὐτὰρ Ἀπόλλων
ἀντίος ἐξέθορε, Τρώων ἵνα λοιγὸν ἀλάλκοι.
οἱ δ’ ἰθὺς πόλιος καὶ τείχεος ὑψηλοῖο,
δίψῃ καρχαλέοι κεκονιμένοι ἐκ πεδίοιο
φεῦγον· ὁ δὲ σφεδανὸν ἔφεπ’ ἔγχεϊ, λύσσα δέ οἱ κῆρ
αἰὲν ἔχε κρατερή, μενέαινε δὲ κῦδος ἀρέσθαι.
Ἔνθά κεν ὑψίπυλον Τροίην ἕλον υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
εἰ μὴ Ἀπόλλων Φοῖβος Ἀγήνορα δῖον ἀνῆκε,
φῶτ’ Ἀντήνορος υἱὸν ἀμύμονά τε κρατερόν τε.
ἐν μέν οἱ κραδίῃ θάρσος βάλε, πὰρ δέ οἱ αὐτὸς
ἔστη, ὅπως θανάτοιο βαρείας χεῖρας ἀλάλκοι,
φηγῷ κεκλιμένος· κεκάλυπτο δ’ ἄρ’ ἠέρι πολλῇ.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γ’ ὡς ἐνόησεν Ἀχιλλῆα πτολίπορθον,
ἔστη, πολλὰ δέ οἱ κραδίη πόρφυρε μένοντι·
ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπε πρὸς ὃν μεγαλήτορα θυμόν·
«ὤ μοι ἐγών· εἰ μέν κεν ὑπὸ κρατεροῦ Ἀχιλῆος
φεύγω, τῇ περ οἱ ἄλλοι ἀτυζόμενοι κλονέονται,
αἱρήσει με καὶ ὧς, καὶ ἀνάλκιδα δειροτομήσει.
εἰ δ’ ἂν ἐγὼ τούτους μὲν ὑποκλονέεσθαι ἐάσω
Πηλεΐδῃ Ἀχιλῆϊ, ποσὶν δ’ ἀπὸ τείχεος ἄλλῃ
φεύγω πρὸς πεδίον Ἰλήϊον, ὄφρ’ ἂν ἵκωμαι
Ἴδης τε κνημοὺς κατά τε ῥωπήϊα δύω·
ἑσπέριος δ’ ἂν ἔπειτα λοεσσάμενος ποταμοῖο
ἱδρῶ ἀποψυχθεὶς προτὶ Ἴλιον ἀπονεοίμην·—
ἀλλὰ τίη μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός;
μή μ’ ἀπαειρόμενον πόλιος πεδίον δὲ νοήσῃ
καί με μεταΐξας μάρψῃ ταχέεσσι πόδεσσιν.
οὐκέτ’ ἔπειτ’ ἔσται θάνατον καὶ κῆρας ἀλύξαι·
λίην γὰρ κρατερὸς περὶ πάντων ἔστ’ ἀνθρώπων.

εἰ δέ κέ οἱ προπάροιθε πόλεος κατεναντίον ἔλθω·
καὶ γάρ θην τούτῳ τρωτὸς χρὼς ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
ἐν δὲ ἴα ψυχή, θνητὸν δέ ἕ φασ’ ἄνθρωποι
ἔμμεναι· αὐτάρ οἱ Κρονίδης Ζεὺς κῦδος ὀπάζει.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν Ἀχιλῆα ἀλεὶς μένεν, ἐν δέ οἱ ἦτορ
ἄλκιμον ὁρμᾶτο πτολεμίζειν ἠδὲ μάχεσθαι.
ἠΰτε πάρδαλις εἶσι βαθείης ἐκ ξυλόχοιο
ἀνδρὸς θηρητῆρος ἐναντίον, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ταρβεῖ οὐδὲ φοβεῖται, ἐπεί κεν ὑλαγμὸν ἀκούσῃ·
εἴ περ γὰρ φθάμενός μιν ἢ οὐτάσῃ ἠὲ βάλῃσιν,
ἀλλά τε καὶ περὶ δουρὶ πεπαρμένη οὐκ ἀπολήγει
ἀλκῆς, πρίν γ’ ἠὲ ξυμβλήμεναι ἠὲ δαμῆναι·
ὣς Ἀντήνορος υἱὸς ἀγαυοῦ δῖος Ἀγήνωρ,
οὐκ ἔθελεν φεύγειν, πρὶν πειρήσαιτ’ Ἀχιλῆος.
ἀλλ’ ὅ γ’ ἄρ’ ἀσπίδα μὲν πρόσθ’ ἔσχετο πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην,
ἐγχείῃ δ’ αὐτοῖο τιτύσκετο, καὶ μέγ’ ἀΰτει·
«ἦ δή που μάλ’ ἔολπας ἐνὶ φρεσί, φαίδιμ’ Ἀχιλλεῦ,
ἤματι τῷδε πόλιν πέρσειν Τρώων ἀγερώχων,
νηπύτι’· ἦ τ’ ἔτι πολλὰ τετεύξεται ἄλγε’ ἐπ’ αὐτῇ.
ἐν γάρ οἱ πολέες τε καὶ ἄλκιμοι ἀνέρες εἰμέν,
οἳ καὶ πρόσθε φίλων τοκέων ἀλόχων τε καὶ υἱῶν
Ἴλιον εἰρυόμεσθα· σὺ δ’ ἐνθάδε πότμον ἐφέψεις,
ὧδ’ ἔκπαγλος ἐὼν καὶ θαρσαλέος πολεμιστής.»
Ἦ ῥα, καὶ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα βαρείης χειρὸς ἀφῆκε,
καί ῥ’ ἔβαλε κνήμην ὑπὸ γούνατος οὐδ’ ἀφάμαρτεν.
ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ κνημὶς νεοτεύκτου κασσιτέροιο
σμερδαλέον κονάβησε· πάλιν δ’ ἀπὸ χαλκὸς ὄρουσε

βλημένου, οὐδ’ ἐπέρησε, θεοῦ δ’ ἠρύκακε δῶρα.
Πηλεΐδης δ’ ὁρμήσατ’ Ἀγήνορος ἀντιθέοιο
δεύτερος· οὐδ’ ἔτ’ ἔασεν Ἀπόλλων κῦδος ἀρέσθαι,
ἀλλά μιν ἐξήρπαξε, κάλυψε δ’ ἄρ’ ἠέρι πολλῇ,
ἡσύχιον δ’ ἄρα μιν πολέμου ἔκπεμπε νέεσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὁ Πηλεΐωνα δόλῳ ἀποέργαθε λαοῦ·
αὐτῷ γὰρ ἑκάεργος Ἀγήνορι πάντα ἐοικὼς
ἔστη πρόσθε ποδῶν, ὁ δ’ ἐπέσσυτο ποσσὶ διώκειν·
ἦος ὁ τὸν πεδίοιο διώκετο πυροφόροιο,
τρέψας πὰρ ποταμὸν βαθυδινήεντα Σκάμανδρον,
τυτθὸν ὑπεκπροθέοντα· δόλῳ δ’ ἄρ’ ἔθελγεν Ἀπόλλων,
ὡς αἰεὶ ἔλποιτο κιχήσεσθαι ποσὶν οἷσι·
τόφρ’ ἄλλοι Τρῶες πεφοβημένοι ἦλθον ὁμίλῳ
ἀσπάσιοι προτὶ ἄστυ, πόλις δ’ ἔμπλητο ἀλέντων.
οὐδ’ ἄρα τοί γ’ ἔτλαν πόλιος καὶ τείχεος ἐκτὸς
μεῖναι ἔτ’ ἀλλήλους, καὶ γνώμεναι ὅς τε πεφεύγοι
ὅς τ’ ἔθαν’ ἐν πολέμῳ· ἀλλ’ ἐσσυμένως ἐσέχυντο
ἐς πόλιν, ὅν τινα τῶν γε πόδες καὶ γοῦνα σαώσαι.

THE ILIAD XXI

But when they came to the ford of the fair-flowing river, the whirling Xanthus, whom immortal Zeus himself begot, Achilles split their ranks. One part he drove across the plain toward the city, along the same path the Achaeans had taken in their panicked flight the day before, when glorious Hector’s fury raged. Along this path they streamed in terror, and Hera, to hold them back, spread a deep mist before them. The other half were hemmed into the deep-flowing, silver-eddying river. They tumbled in with a great crash, and the steep channels roared, and the banks on either side echoed with the din. With desperate cries, they swam this way and that, spun about by the currents. And as locusts, before the fury of a fire, take wing to escape toward a river, when the indefatigable flames rise up suddenly and they drop helpless into the water; so was the deep-whirling stream of the Xanthus filled with the clamor and confusion of horses and men under the assault of Achilles. The son of Zeus, for his part, left his spear upon the bank, leaning against the tamarisks, and, brandishing his sword alone, he sprang forth like a divinity, his mind bent on grim work. He struck in every direction, turning and twisting, and a dreadful groaning arose from those smitten by his blade, and the water grew red with their blood. As other fish flee before a great-gaping dolphin, crowding the corners of a safe harbor in their terror—for he will surely devour any he catches—so the Trojans cowered beneath the cliffs along the stream of the dread river. And when his hands grew weary of the slaughter, he chose twelve young men alive from the river to be a blood price for the death of Patroclus, son of Menoetius. He led them forth from the river, dazed as fawns, and bound their hands behind them with the well-cut leather straps they wore upon their pleated tunics. He gave them to his comrades to lead back to the hollow ships, then plunged in again, his heart burning to continue the slaughter. There he met a son of Priam, of the line of Dardanus, escaping from the river: Lycaon. He had captured him once before, taking him unawares from his father’s orchard. It was night, and Lycaon was cutting young shoots from a wild fig tree with his sharp bronze blade to make rims for a chariot. Divine Achilles had come upon him then, an unexpected evil. At that time, he had sent him by ship to well-built Lemnos and sold him, and the son of Jason paid the price for him. From there, a guest-friend, ransomed him for a great sum Eetion of Imbros, and sent him to shining Arisbe. From there he had secretly escaped and returned to his father’s house. For eleven days he had gladdened his heart among his friends after his return from Lemnos, but on the twelfth, a god cast him once more into the hands of Achilles, who was destined to send him down to the house of Hades, much against his will. When swift-footed, divine Achilles saw him, naked, without helmet or shield, and with no spear—for he had thrown all these things to the ground, exhausted by the sweat of his flight from the river, and weariness had conquered his knees—he spoke in vexation to his own great heart: “By the gods, what great wonder is this that I see with my own eyes? Surely the great-hearted Trojans whom I have slain will rise again from the murky darkness, just as this man has come back, escaping his pitiless day, though he had been sold into sacred Lemnos. The expanse of the grey sea did not hold him, though it holds back many against their will. But come now, he shall have a taste of our spear’s point, so that I may see in my mind and learn whether he will return even from there, or if the life-giving earth will hold him fast, she who holds down even the strongest of men.” So he pondered, waiting. And the other drew near in a daze, eager to clasp his knees, desperate in his heart to escape an evil death and black doom. Divine Achilles raised his long spear, intent on striking him, but the man ducked and ran under it and seized his knees. The spear flew over his back and fixed itself in the earth, still thirsting to taste the flesh of men. With one hand Lycaon grasped Achilles’ knees and implored him, while with the other he held to the sharp spear and would not let it go. And speaking, he addressed him with winged words: “I clasp your knees, Achilles. Respect me and have pity. I am as a sacred suppliant to you, O cherished of Zeus, for it was at your side that I first broke the bread of Demeter, on that day you took me in the well-tended orchard and led me away from my father and friends, and sold me into sacred Lemnos. I fetched you the price of a hundred oxen. Now I have been ransomed for thrice that sum. This is my twelfth dawn since I came to Ilium after my many sufferings. Now again has ruinous fate placed me in your hands. I must be hateful to father Zeus, who has given me to you a second time. It was to a brief life that my mother bore me, Laothoe, daughter of the old king Altes—Altes, who rules the war-loving Leleges, holding steep Pedasus on the river Satnioeis. Priam took his daughter to wife, as he did many others. From her we two were born, and you will butcher us both. The first you already vanquished among the foremost ranks of foot-soldiers, godlike Polydorus, when you struck him with your sharp spear. And now evil shall befall me here, for I do not think I shall escape your hands, since a divinity has driven me toward you. “Yet I will tell you another thing, and you must cast it in your heart: do not kill me, for I am not from the same womb as Hector, he who slew your comrade, the kind and mighty one.” Thus the glorious son of Priam spoke, beseeching him with words, but the voice he heard in answer was pitiless. “Fool, do not speak to me of ransom, nor offer any such plea. Before Patroclus met his fated day, it was more to my heart’s liking to spare the Trojans, and many I took alive and sold overseas. But now there is no one who shall escape death, not one whom a god delivers into my hands before the walls of Ilium—not a single Trojan, and least of all the sons of Priam. So, my friend, you die as well. Why do you lament so? Even Patroclus died, who was a man far greater than you. Do you not see what I am, how beautiful and tall? I am the son of a noble father, and a goddess was the mother who bore me. Yet even for me there is a death and a powerful fate. There will be a dawn, or a dusk, or a midday, when some man will take my life in battle, either by a cast of his spear or an arrow from his bowstring.” So he spoke, and at his words the other’s knees gave way and his heart was broken. He let go of the spear and sat with both his arms outstretched. But Achilles, drawing his sharp sword, struck him on the collarbone beside the neck, and the whole two-edged blade sank inward. He fell face down upon the earth and lay there outstretched, and the black blood flowed out and soaked the ground. Achilles seized him by the foot and cast him into the river to be carried away, and vaunting over him, he spoke winged words: “Lie there now among the fishes, who will lick the blood from your wound without a care. Your mother will not lay you on a bier to mourn you; instead, whirling Scamander will carry you into the broad bosom of the sea. Some fish, leaping through the waves, will dart beneath the black ripple to eat the white fat of Lycaon. Perish, all of you, until we reach the sacred city of Ilium—you fleeing, and I killing from behind. Not even your fair-flowing, silver-eddying river will save you, to whom you have long sacrificed so many bulls, and cast living, single-hoofed horses into its depths. But even so, you shall die an evil death, until every one of you has paid for the killing of Patroclus and for the suffering of the Achaeans, whom you slew beside the swift ships in my absence.” So he spoke, and the river god grew ever more wrathful in his heart, and considered in his mind how he might put a stop to the work of divine Achilles and ward off destruction from the Trojans. Meanwhile, the son of Peleus, holding his long-shadowed spear, sprang upon Asteropaeus, son of Pelegon, burning to kill him. Pelegon was the son of the wide-flowing Axius and of Periboea, eldest daughter of Acessamenus, for the deep-eddying river had lain with her. Achilles rushed upon him, and Asteropaeus came forth from the river to face him, holding two spears. Xanthus had put courage into his heart, for he was enraged at the slaughter of the youths whom Achilles was cutting down in his stream without pity. When they were near, advancing on one another, swift-footed, divine Achilles was the first to speak: “Who are you, and from where, you who dare to come against me? It is the children of unhappy men who stand against my might.” To this, the glorious son of Pelegon replied: “Great-hearted son of Peleus, why do you ask of my lineage? I am from the fertile land of Paeonia, far away, leading the Paeonian men with their long spears. This is now my eleventh dawn since I came to Ilium. My descent is from the wide-flowing Axius, Axius, whose waters are the most beautiful to spread across the land. He begot Pelegon, famed with the spear, and they say I am his son. But now let us fight, glorious Achilles.” So he spoke in defiance, and divine Achilles raised the Pelian ash spear. But the hero Asteropaeus, being ambidextrous, cast with both his spears at once. With one spear he struck the shield, but did not break through it, for the gold, the gift of a god, held fast. With the other, he grazed Achilles’ right forearm, and the dark blood gushed forth. But the spear flew past him and fixed itself in the earth, longing to sate itself on flesh. Then Achilles, in his turn, hurled his straight-flying ash spear at Asteropaeus, intent on killing him. He missed his man, but struck the high riverbank, and the ashen spear drove halfway into the cliff. The son of Peleus, drawing the sharp sword from his thigh, sprang upon him with a cry. Asteropaeus tried in vain to pull Achilles’ ashen spear from the bank with his strong hand. Three times he strained, trying to wrench it free; three times his strength failed him. On the fourth attempt, he was determined in his heart to bend and break the ashen spear of the son of Aeacus, but before he could, Achilles was upon him and took his life with the sword. He struck him in the belly beside the navel, and all his entrails spilled out onto the ground. Darkness covered his eyes as he gasped for breath. Achilles, leaping upon his chest, stripped him of his armor and spoke in triumph: “Lie so! It is a hard thing to contend with the children of the mighty son of Cronos, even for one born of a river. You claimed your lineage was from a wide-streaming river, but I declare my own to be from great Zeus. My father, who rules over the many Myrmidons, is Peleus, son of Aeacus; and Aeacus was born of Zeus. As Zeus is mightier than the sea-roaring rivers, so is the generation of Zeus mightier than that of any river. Indeed, a great river is here beside you, if it can offer any aid. But it is not possible to fight against Zeus, son of Cronos. With him, not even King Achelous can compare his strength, nor the vast power of deep-flowing Oceanus, from whom all rivers and every sea, and all the springs and deep wells have their flow. Yet even he fears the lightning of great Zeus, and his terrible thunder when it crashes from the heavens.” He spoke, and pulled his bronze spear from the cliff. He left the man there, after he had taken his life, lying in the sands, and the dark water lapped about him. The eels and the fish swarmed him, nibbling and tearing the fat from around his kidneys. But Achilles went on against the horse-taming Paeonians, who were still fleeing in terror along the whirling river, when they saw their champion vanquished in the mighty conflict, brought down by the hands and sword of the son of Peleus. There he slew Thersilochus and Mydon, Astypylus and Mnesus, Thrasius, Aenius, and Ophelestes. And swift Achilles would have slain yet more of the Paeonians, had not the deep-whirling river, angered, spoken to him in the likeness of a man, his voice rising from a deep eddy: “O Achilles, you are the strongest of men, and your deeds are the most reckless, for the gods themselves are ever your protectors. If the son of Cronos has truly granted that you destroy all the Trojans, then at least drive them from my waters and do your grim work on the plain. My lovely channels are now filled with corpses, nor can I find any way to pour my stream into the bright sea, being choked with the dead, yet you continue your merciless slaughter. Come, leave me be. Wonder and horror hold me, leader of hosts.” And swift-footed Achilles answered him, saying: “This shall be as you command, Scamander, cherished of Zeus. But I will not stop slaying the arrogant Trojans until I have penned them in their city and made trial of Hector in single combat, to see whether he shall vanquish me, or I him.” So saying, he charged the Trojans like a divinity. And then the deep-eddying river spoke to Apollo: “Shame on you, lord of the silver bow, son of Zeus! You have not kept the counsels of the son of Cronos, who charged you again and again to stand by the Trojans and defend them, until the evening should come, late-setting, and shadow the fertile fields.” He spoke, and spear-famed Achilles leapt into the middle of the stream, springing from the bank. But the river rushed upon him, swelling in fury, and stirred up all its waters in a turbulent surge. It swept up the many corpses that lay thick within it, whom Achilles had slain, and, roaring like a bull, cast them out upon the land. But the living it saved within its fair currents, hiding them in its great and deep eddies. A terrible, churning wave rose around Achilles, and the current, falling upon his shield, beat him downward, so that he could not keep his footing. He grasped with his hands an elm tree, tall and well-grown, but it tore up from its roots and ripped away the whole bank with it, checking the river’s beautiful flow with its thick branches and bridging the stream itself as it fell completely across. Scrambling from the eddy, Achilles sprang forth to fly across the plain on his swift feet, seized with fear. But the great god did not relent; he rose after him with a dark, arching crest, so that he might stop divine Achilles from his work and save the Trojans from destruction. The son of Peleus sped away, as far as a spear-cast, with the swoop of a black eagle, the hunter, which is at once the strongest and swiftest of winged creatures. Like it he rushed, and the bronze on his chest rang terribly. He swerved to escape, but the river followed, flowing behind with a mighty roar. As when a man digging a channel guides the flow of water from a dark spring through his plants and gardens, holding a mattock in his hands and clearing away the blockages from the ditch; and as the water flows forward, all the pebbles beneath are dislodged, and it murmurs as it runs swiftly down a sloping place, outstripping even its guide. So the wave of the river ever caught up with Achilles, swift though he was; for the gods are stronger than men. As often as swift-footed, divine Achilles tried to make a stand and learn if all the immortals who hold the wide heaven were set against him, so often would a great wave of the sky-fed river wash over his shoulders from above. He would leap high with his feet, his heart in agony, while the river, rushing violently beneath, wore down his knees and swept the dust from under his feet. The son of Peleus groaned, looking up to the wide heaven: “Father Zeus, will none of the gods take pity and save me from this river? After that, I would suffer anything. No other of the heavenly ones is so much to blame as my own mother, who beguiled me with falsehoods. She said that I would perish under the wall of the armored Trojans by the swift arrows of Apollo. Would that Hector had slain me, he who was raised the best man here. Then a brave man would have been the slayer, and a brave man the slain. But now it is my fate to be taken by an ignoble death, trapped in this great river, like a swineherd boy whom a torrent sweeps away as he tries to cross in a storm.” So he spoke, and at once Poseidon and Athena came and stood beside him, having taken the likeness of men. They took his hand in theirs and gave him assurance with their words. Poseidon, the Earth-Shaker, was the first of them to speak: “Son of Peleus, do not tremble overmuch, nor be afraid. We two are here as allies to you from among the gods, with the approval of Zeus—I, and Pallas Athena. It is not your fate to be vanquished by a river. He will soon relent, as you yourself shall see. But we will give you sound counsel, if you would but listen: do not stay your hands from the great work of war until you have penned the Trojan host within the famed walls of Ilium, all who escape. But once you have taken Hector’s life, return to the ships. We grant you the glory of victory.” Having spoken thus, the two departed again among the immortals. But he, greatly spurred by the command of the gods, went on toward the plain. The whole of it was filled with the overflowing water, and much beautiful armor of the slain youths was floating there, and many corpses. But he pressed onward against the current, his knees leaping high, nor could the wide-flowing river hold him back, for Athena had put great strength into him. Nor did Scamander check his own fury, but grew yet more enraged at the son of Peleus. He gathered the crest of his wave, lifting it high, and called with a great cry to Simois: “Dear brother, let us both join our strength to hold back this man, since he will soon sack the great city of King Priam, and the Trojans will not stand against him in the fray. Come to my aid quickly! Fill your streams with water from your springs, rouse all your torrents, and raise a great wave. Stir up a mighty roar of logs and stones, that we may stop this savage man who now holds power and rages as if he were a god. I say that neither his strength nor his beauty will save him, nor that fine armor, which shall lie somewhere deep in my waters, covered over with slime. And him I shall wrap in my sands and pour over him a vast shingle of silt, so much that the Achaeans will not know how to gather his bones, so thick will be the mud I bury him in. Here shall his tomb be made, and he will have no need of a burial mound when the Achaeans perform his rites.” He spoke, and rose against Achilles, churning and raging from on high, thundering with foam and blood and the bodies of the dead. A dark, towering wave of the sky-fed river stood poised and was about to overwhelm the son of Peleus. But Hera cried out in great fear for Achilles, lest the great, deep-eddying river sweep him away, and at once she called to Hephaestus, her own dear son: “Arise, my child, my crooked-footed one! For we thought it was you that whirling Xanthus was matched to fight against. Go to the rescue quickly, and make show of your great flame. I myself will go and rouse a fierce gale from the sea, of the West Wind and the white South Wind, that will burn the heads and armor of the Trojans, carrying an evil conflagration. You, along the banks of the Xanthus, burn the trees and set the river himself on fire. Let him not turn you back with honeyed words or with threats. Do not check your power until I give the call with a shout; then you may stay your unwearied fire.” So she spoke, and Hephaestus prepared a divine fire. First, the fire blazed upon the plain and burned the many corpses that lay thick there, whom Achilles had slain; and the whole plain was dried, and the bright water was stayed. As when the North Wind in late summer quickly dries a newly watered orchard, and the man who tends it rejoices; so was the whole plain dried, and the dead were consumed. Then he turned his gleaming flame against the river. The elms and the willows and the tamarisks were burned; the lotus was burned, and the rushes and the galingale, all that grew in abundance along the river’s beautiful streams. The eels and the fish were in torment in the eddies, and in the fair currents they leaped this way and that, afflicted by the blast of cunning Hephaestus. The very strength of the river was burned, and he spoke and called out by name: “Hephaestus, no god can stand against you, nor could I ever fight against such blazing fire as yours. Cease this strife! Let divine Achilles drive the Trojans from their city at once. What have I to do with this quarrel and this aid?” He spoke, consumed by the fire, and his beautiful streams boiled. As a cauldron seethes within when heated by a great fire, melting the lard of a soft-fed hog, bubbling up on all sides while dry logs are laid beneath, so were his fair streams burned with fire, and the water boiled. He had no will to flow onward, but was held back, tormented by the hot breath of crafty Hephaestus. And crying out, he addressed Hera with winged words of supplication: “Hera, why does your son assail my stream to vex it above all others? Surely I am not so much to blame as all the rest who are allies to the Trojans. But I will cease, if you command it, and let him cease as well. And I will swear an oath on this, too: that I will never again ward off the evil day from the Trojans, not even when all Troy is consumed in the ravening fire, when the warlike sons of the Achaeans burn it.” When the white-armed goddess Hera heard this, she at once spoke to Hephaestus, her own dear son: “Hephaestus, hold back, my glorious child. It is not seemly to torment an immortal god thus for the sake of mortals.” So she spoke, and Hephaestus quenched the divine fire, and the wave rushed back again along its beautiful channels. When the strength of Xanthus had been subdued, these two then ceased their strife, for Hera held them back, though she was still filled with anger. But among the other gods a grievous and bitter strife arose, and their hearts were blown in two directions within their breasts. They clashed with a great uproar, and the wide earth groaned, and the great heaven trumpeted around them. Zeus heard it as he sat upon Olympus, and his own heart laughed with delight as he watched the gods meet in conflict. They did not stand apart for long. Ares, the piercer of shields, was the first to act, and he charged Athena, holding his bronze spear, and spoke a word of insult: “Why now, you dog-fly, do you drive the gods to clash in strife, with your insatiable boldness, driven by your great pride? Do you not remember when you set on Diomedes, son of Tydeus, to wound me, and you yourself took his spear in plain sight and drove it straight at me, and tore my beautiful flesh? So now I think you will pay for all that you have done.” So saying, he struck her tassled, terrible aegis, which not even the lightning of Zeus can vanquish. On this, blood-stained Ares struck with his long spear. But she drew back and with her stout hand seized a stone that lay upon the plain, black and jagged and great, which men of former times had set to be a boundary mark for a field. With this she struck furious Ares on the neck and loosed his limbs. He fell and covered seven measures of land, and his hair was sullied with the dust, and his armor clattered about him. But Pallas Athena laughed, and vaunting over him, she spoke winged words: “Fool, have you not yet learned how much stronger I claim to be than you, that you dare to match your might against mine? In this way you may pay off the curses of your mother, who is wrathful and plans evil for you because you deserted the Achaeans and now defend the arrogant Trojans.” So she spoke, and turned her shining eyes away. But Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, took him by the hand and led him away, groaning again and again, as he painfully gathered his spirit. When the white-armed goddess Hera saw her, she at once spoke to Athena with winged words: “Look now, Atrytone, child of aegis-bearing Zeus! Here again is that dog-fly leading man-slaying Ares from the thick of battle out of the fury of war. Go after her!” So she spoke, and Athena sped after her, her heart filled with joy. Rushing upon her, she struck her on the breast with her stout hand, and at that spot Aphrodite’s knees and her dear heart gave way. So those two lay upon the all-nourishing earth, and Athena vaunted over them, speaking winged words: “May all who are allies to the Trojans be just like these, when they fight against the armored Argives—just as bold and steadfast as Aphrodite was when she came to aid Ares and stood against my might. If so, we would long ago have ceased from our warring, having sacked the well-built citadel of Ilium.” So she spoke, and the white-armed goddess Hera smiled. But the lord Earth-Shaker spoke to Apollo: “Phoebus, why do we two stand apart? It is not fitting, when the others have begun. It would be all the more shameful if we were to return to Olympus, to the bronze-floored house of Zeus, without a fight. You begin, for you are the younger by birth. It would not be proper for me, since I was born first and know more. Fool, what a senseless heart you have! Do you not remember all the evils we suffered around Ilium, we two alone of the gods, when, by the will of Zeus, we came and served the proud Laomedon for a year for a stated wage, and he was our master and gave us orders? I built for the Trojans a wall around their city, wide and most beautiful, so that the city might be impregnable. You, Phoebus, herded his shambling, crook-horned cattle on the folded ridges of wooded Ida. But when the delightful seasons brought the term of our service to an end, then that terrible Laomedon robbed us of all our wages and sent us away with threats. He threatened to bind our feet and our hands above and sell us into slavery on far-away islands. He even vowed to shear off the ears of us both with his bronze. So we went away with resentful hearts, angry for the wage he had promised but had not delivered. It is to his people that you now show favor, and you do not try with us to see that the arrogant Trojans perish utterly and miserably, with their children and their revered wives.” Then lord Apollo, who strikes from afar, answered him: “Earth-Shaker, you would not call me sound of mind if I were to fight with you for the sake of wretched mortals, who are like the leaves. At one time they flourish in fiery splendor, eating the fruit of the earth, and at another they wither and perish, lifeless. Let us cease from this battle at once; let them fight it out among themselves.” So he spoke, and turned away, for he felt shame at the thought of coming to blows with his father’s brother. But his sister greatly rebuked him, the mistress of beasts, Artemis of the wild, and she spoke a word of insult: “So you run, Far-Striker, and you have yielded the whole victory to Poseidon, and given him the glory for nothing. Fool, why do you carry that bow of yours, as useless as the wind? Let me not hear you boasting again in your father’s halls, as you used to do among the immortal gods, that you would fight Poseidon face to face.” So she spoke, but far-striking Apollo made no reply. But the revered wife of Zeus was angered and rebuked the archer-goddess with words of scorn: “How now do you dare, you shameless bitch, to stand against me? I will be a hard opponent for you to face, for all that you are a bow-woman, since Zeus made you a lion among women and gave you leave to kill whichever of them you please. Surely it is better to be slaying beasts on the mountains and wild deer than to fight with your betters. But if you wish to learn of war, then you shall know well how much stronger I am, when you try to match your strength against mine.” She spoke, and with her left hand seized both of Artemis’ hands at the wrist, and with her right she took the bow from her shoulders, and with it, smiling, she beat her about the ears as she turned away this way and that. The swift arrows fell out and scattered. The goddess fled from under her in tears, like a dove that flies into a hollow rock, into a cleft, to escape a hawk, since it was not her fate to be caught. So she fled in tears, leaving her bow and arrows there. Then the messenger, Argeiphontes, spoke to Leto: “Leto, I will not fight with you. It is a dangerous thing to come to blows with the wives of cloud-gathering Zeus. But by all means, you may boast freely among the immortal gods that you have vanquished me by your great strength.” So he spoke, and Leto gathered up the curved bow and the arrows that had fallen one way and another in the swirling dust. Taking the bow, she went after her daughter. The girl had now come to Olympus, to the bronze-floored house of Zeus, and weeping, she sat upon her father’s knees, and her ambrosial robe trembled about her. Her father, the son of Cronos, drew her to him and, laughing softly, he inquired: “Which of the heavenly ones has treated you so, dear child, so rashly, as if you had been caught doing some evil in the open?” And the well-crowned goddess of the clamorous hunt answered him: “It was your wife who struck me, Father, white-armed Hera, from whom strife and contention have come upon the immortals.” While they were speaking such things to one another, Phoebus Apollo entered sacred Ilium, for he was concerned for the wall of the well-built city, lest the Danaans should sack it that day, against what was fated. The other ever-living gods went back to Olympus, some in anger, and some in great triumph, and they sat down beside their father, the lord of the dark clouds. But Achilles was slaughtering the Trojans, both the men themselves and their single-hoofed horses. As when smoke goes up and reaches the wide heaven from a burning city, and the wrath of the gods has set it ablaze, bringing toil upon all its people and sorrows to many; so did Achilles bring toil and sorrow upon the Trojans. Old Priam stood upon a sacred tower and saw the monstrous Achilles. Before him the Trojans were driven in a panicked rout, and there was no courage left in them. Groaning, he descended from the tower to the ground to give orders to the renowned gatekeepers along the wall: “Keep the gates open in your hands until the people come to the city in their flight, for Achilles is near, driving them on. Now I think there will be disastrous work. But when they are inside the wall and have caught their breath, then shut again the close-fitting planks of the gates. I fear that this destructive man may leap inside our walls.” So he spoke, and they opened the gates and pushed back the bars, and the opened gates made a way of deliverance. Apollo sprang forth to meet them, so that he might ward off destruction from the Trojans. Straight for the city and its high wall they fled, parched with thirst and covered in dust from the plain, while he pursued them relentlessly with his spear. A fierce madness held his heart without cease, and he burned to win glory. Then the sons of the Achaeans would have taken high-gated Troy, had not Phoebus Apollo roused divine Agenor, a blameless and mighty warrior, son of Antenor. He put courage into his heart, and stood beside him himself to ward off the heavy hands of death, leaning against the oak tree, veiled in a thick mist. So when Agenor saw Achilles, the sacker of cities, he stood his ground, and his heart was filled with a host of dark thoughts as he waited. In vexation he spoke to his own great heart: “Ah, woe is me! If I flee before mighty Achilles along the path where the others are driven in terror, he will catch me even so, and cut my throat like a coward. But if I let these others be driven by Achilles, son of Peleus, and flee on my own feet from the wall to another place, toward the plain of Ilium, until I reach the spurs of Ida and can hide in the undergrowth; then in the evening, after bathing in the river to wash the sweat from my body and refresh myself, I could return to Ilium. But why does my own heart debate these things with me? I fear that he may see me turning from the city toward the plain, and rushing after me, catch me with his swift feet. Then there would be no way to escape death and doom, for he is the mightiest of all men. “But what if I go out to face him before the city? Surely his flesh, too, can be wounded by sharp bronze. There is but one life within him, and men say he is mortal. It is only that Zeus, the son of Cronos, grants him glory.” So saying, he gathered himself and awaited Achilles, and his own valiant heart was eager for combat and for battle. As a leopard comes out from a deep thicket to face a hunter, and its heart knows no fear nor any dread when it hears the baying of the hounds; for even if the hunter is first to wound it with a cast or a thrust, still, even pierced by the spear, it does not give up its fight until it has either closed with him or been slain. So the son of noble Antenor, divine Agenor, would not flee until he had made a trial of Achilles. He held his shield, balanced on all sides, before him, and took aim at Achilles with his spear, and shouted aloud: “Surely you hope greatly in your heart, glorious Achilles, that on this day you will sack the city of the proud Trojans. Fool! There are yet many sorrows to be accomplished for its sake. For within it are many of us, and we are valiant men who, for our dear parents and our wives and sons, will defend Ilium. But you, you shall meet your own fate here, for all that you are so terrible and bold a warrior.” He spoke, and from his heavy hand let fly the sharp spear, and he struck him on the shin below the knee, and did not miss. The greave of newly-wrought tin rang terribly around it, but the bronze bounced back from the man it struck and did not pierce through, for the gift of the god held it back. The son of Peleus, in turn, charged at godlike Agenor. But Apollo would not let him win glory, for he snatched Agenor away, veiling him in a thick mist, and sent him peacefully out of the battle to go his way. Then, by a trick, he drew the son of Peleus away from the Trojan host. For the Far-Striker took on the likeness of Agenor in every way and stood before his feet, and Achilles rushed after him in pursuit. While he pursued him across the wheat-bearing plain, turning him toward the deep-eddying river Scamander, as Apollo ran just a little ahead—and by this trick he beguiled him, so that he always hoped to catch him on his swift feet—during that time, the other Trojans who had been routed came thronging into the city with relief, and the city was filled with the penned-up host. Nor did they dare to wait for one another outside the city and the wall, to learn who had escaped and who had died in the battle, but poured eagerly into the city, every man whose feet and knees had saved him.

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