Book 39

39. In the thirty-ninth, after the waves, you behold Deriades fleeing the fire-blazing fleet of the Indians.

So speaking, Hermes, beyond overtaking, went to heaven, leaving joy and wonder to his brother Dionysus. While Bacchus was still marveling at the disordered pouring of the stars and at fallen Phaethon, how among the Celts he slipped, fire-burned, into the Western stream, meanwhile the foreign ships drew near, which on the sea, guiding them in lines to the sea-fighting War of the Indians, the Rhadamanes sailed over the unwashed brine, striking the sea with alternating strokes, drivers of the watery battle; and for eager Lyaios the escorting wind hissed against the answering hulls. And Lycus led the way, driving his car upon the waters, grazing the unscored stream with his horse's hooves. But measureless Deriades, towering high above the racing towers, gazed cloud-wise upon the sails of the ships with an angry eye, and, hearing in his arrogance that an Arab craftsman had built the war-rousing ships, he swore to bring War against the woodcutting Arabs, and threatened to lay waste the city of Lycurgus, mowing down the Rhadamanes with the destroying iron. And the fearless Indians, gazing at the fleet, trembled, watching the sea-beaten War, until even the knees of bold Deriades himself were loosened; but with a feigned laugh on his calm face the Indian king commanded from three hundred islands of his elephant-grazing land, along the hard-trodden ankles of its shore, to lead a host; and the swift herald went upon the path, walking on his many-winding feet from land to land; and the keen fleet came from the scattered islands at the king's call; and he, stretching his bold neck, drawing the fair-helmeted ships to the war of the sea, heartened the whole host, and spoke with a high-minded voice: "Men, whom my steadfast Hydaspes reared, now fight again with confidence; and bring blazing fire to the war, and kindle boundless pine, that I may burn the newcome ships with the blazing brand, and hide the water-coursing host in the sea with their spears, with their breastplates, with their hulls, with Dionysus. If Bacchus is a god, with my fire I will destroy Bacchus; is it not enough that, sprinkling his many-faceted drugs in the streams with Thessalian flowers, he reddened my Hydaspes, and seeing it I kept silence, and quietly still endured to look upon the yellow streams of the polluted river? For if this stream had been from a stranger river, and my father had not been warlike Indian Hydaspes, then I would have filled this flood with poured dust, abolishing the grape-laden smell of Dionysus, and journeying through the drunken stream of my father with dusty feet I would have run across the unwetted water, as is told among the Argives, how the Earth-shaker made the water dry, and the horse's hoof scored the Inachian dust of the parched river. He is no god, no god, this man; he has lied about his lineage. For what Olympian aegis of Cronion does he brandish? What spark has he of the Zeus-hurled thunderbolt? What heavenly lightning of his father does he lift? The son of Cronos does not arm for war with wine-dark ivy; I do not liken the clatter of tambourines to the thunder's tune, nor will I call the wands like the bolts of Zeus, nor will I name his earthly breastplate equal to the cloud of Zeus; when do I liken his dappled fawnskin to a spangled star? But you will say that he received the grape and the pouring of wine as gifts from Cronion his plant-nurturing father; to one who bears Trojan blood and is some country herdsman, Zeus gave to wine-pouring Ganymede the nectar of Olympus, and wine was not like nectar; give way, you wands. Bacchus feasts with the Satyrs upon the earth; Ganymede feasts with the heavenly immortals. And if this man were mortal, sprung from a heavenly father, with Zeus and the blessed ones he would have touched one table. I have heard how once his own throne and the scepter of Olympus Zeus gave as a gift to Zagreus, an elder Dionysus, the lightning to Zagreus and the vine to wine-dark Bacchus." He spoke, and rose to battle; and the peoples thronged together with spear, with shields, and the late hope of victory in the land-war they removed to the sea. And to his champions Dionysus called with a frenzied voice: "Brave children of Ares and of well-armored Athena, whose life is the works of war and whose hopes are contests, hasten to abolish the race of the Indians upon the sea too, having achieved a sea-victory to follow your victory on land. But, the carriers of the sea-fight's slaughter, doubling your spears, twin-plaited in a paired bond, the sea-fighting joined together, clad about the mouth with bronze, mingle with the enemy a sea-startling Enyo, forestalling them, lest, lifting the fire-gleaming brand in his hand, Deriades burn the warlike timbers of the ships. Fight without fear, Mimallones; for the watery-warring hopes of the enemy are empty boasts; and if, after toil, the lord of the Indians did not finish the fight on land, seated on the crests of his towering elephants, cloud-high, beyond reach, unwounded, neighbor to the air, yet I never lack champions, nor will I call another helper besides Cronion my father, the driver of sea and air; but if I wish, I arm Poseidon my father's brother to abolish with his trident the whole Indian line; and a broad-bearded champion, offspring of the Earth-shaker, Glaucus I have as my fellow in arms, neighbor of my Thebes, the sea-citizen of the Aonian field of Anthedon; Glaucus I have, and Phorcys; and as it is lashed by the sea, Melicertes will sink the hull of Deriades, honoring kindred Dionysus, whose mother once nursed the infant Bacchus, since sea-dwelling Ino gave one milk to both, to Palaemon and to Dionysus; and of the prophetic old man, who once foretold our victory that should come upon the sea with his deep-sea voice, I am the friend, of Proteus; and my Thetis arms for the fight the daughters of Nereus, and in the battle-din my Ino, fellow in arms of the Bassarids, puts on her armor; and I will arm for war Aeolus too, that I may see Eurus hurling his javelin and Boreas wielding his spear, the son-in-law of my champion, the ravisher of the Marathonian bride, and the Ethiopian South wind, the shield-bearer of Lyaios; and Zephyrus much more, in the storm-driven din, will harm the hulls of the enemy; for he has as bedfellow my Iris, the messenger of Zeus. But in silence, far from the good-wand war of the Indian battle-din, let rough Aeolus stay quiet, having bound with the accustomed bond the windy bag he tightened, nor upon the sea let the winds prevail with Indian-slaying blasts; but I will finish the fight, brandishing my ship-destroying wands." So speaking he armed his confident leaders. And already the herald trumpet of war stood ready, and the pipes of Ares sounded forth a battle-rousing tune, gathering the host, and the smitten ox-hide shield rang out the bronze-clashing echo of the sea-fight, and the army-rousing pipe shrieked a din that thudded with it; and instead of the rock-voice, the war-remnants of sound, the sea Echo answered the late-speaking Panian voices. For them as they fought there was tumult, and a cry arose of men calling out; and the host fought with accustomed skill, ringing round the whole army garland-wise, and in the midst the Indian fleet was hemmed by the even-rowing ships into the likeness of fish caught in a net; and to the Aeacids Aeacus, foretelling the watery War of Salamis, as the battle began, uttered a god-fearing voice: "If once before, hearing my suppliant cry, you drove the seedless drought from the broad-acred field, bringing life-giving water to the thirsty land, grant again the same late-fulfilled favor, Zeus of the rain, honoring me with water here too; and let someone say, beholding our victory: as upon the earth Zeus honored his own son, so on the seas he honors him. Let another, an Achaean man, say: in one ordinance Aeacus is Indian-slaying and life-giving; for he does both, cutting off the heads of enemies and giving fruit to the furrow, he brought joy to Demeter and gladness to Dionysus. And rescue the voyage of our ship; and as into the parched and earthly hollow I led the life-bringing water, so I proclaim a death-bearing surge from the deep flanks fighting against the armies and hulls of Deriades. But, father, lord of life, lord of the battle-din, send me the eagle bird, the herald of my race, on the right for my champions and for your Dionysus; and let another bird come on the left for the enemy; and let these be the diverse tokens for both: the one I shall behold, carried on a seizing talon, scored with the sharp sting of its sharpened claws, lifting up a huge dead horned serpent, announcing the end of the horned enemy; and to the host of the enemy let another, black-skinned, come with dark wings, foretelling the slaughter of the Indians, the black sign of self-wrought death; and if you are willing, with thunderous crashings prophesy my victory, and sending the lightning of Bromios as childbed-fires honor your son again with fire, and let the thunderbolts shoot at the fair-helmeted hulls of the enemy. Yes, father, remember Aegina, lest you shame your bride's bridegroom, the wing-shaped bird of the Loves." So speaking he made war, and casting his eye to the airy paths, full against the returning Bear, Erechtheus entreated his son-in-law and cried out a word: "Boreas my son-in-law, arm yourself, and for your bride's fighting father straining your helping breath grant a sea-victory as the bride-gift of your chamber; to the hulls of Bromios bringing a ship-saving breeze give a favor to both, to Erechtheus and to Dionysus; but lashing the maddened sea against the ships of Deriades arm your storms with a billowy blast— for you are experienced in battle, since you yourself dwell in Thrace, experienced, just like Ares— and bringing a storm-breath against the enemy's phalanx arm yourself against Deriades with a frosty spear; and setting a storm-driven Enyo against the enemy shoot the foe with a hail-shaft, bearing faith to Zeus and to Pallas and to Dionysus. Remember Cecropia of fair maidens, where the women embroider with the shuttle the marriage-hymn of your Loves; and honor Ilissus the wedding-decker, where the bride, the Attic girl, your long-since consort, the seizing breezes carried off as she sat unshaken on your unmoving shoulder. I know that another wind will come as fellow in arms, the Eastern, neighbor to the enemy; but in the battle I do not fear bold Eurus, since the winged winds all, as many as breathe, are attendants of Boreas; and let the champion of the Ethiopians, upon the Southern edge of the field, Corymbasus, return no more, but be subdued, having as hot fellow-fighter his own Ethiopian South wind, having drunk the cold death-bearing water over the sea; I care nothing for Zephyrus, when Boreas arms. Show your accord with your father-in-law; and from heaven with you for my Bacchic armies will fight with his trident Poseidon, and Athena, she for her own dwellers, he for the offspring of his brother; and fiery Hephaestus, honoring the blood of Erechtheus, will come kindly to the watery War, whirling his battling flame upon the hulls of Deriades. And grant me to conquer in the waters too, and after the victory let Erechtheus bring his host unharmed to Cecropia, and let Athens sing of Boreas and Oreithyia." Crying out such a word, the sea-whirling man laid hold of the fight with his skillful spear, and like a dweller of Marathon he had a longing for the sea-fight; and in the oar-loving battle-din Ares was then a fair-armed sailor, and in his palm Fear held the rudder, and the steersman of the battle-din, Terror, loosed the cables of the javelin-bearing ships. And the phalanxes of the Cyclopes sailed the sea, shooting at the hulls with the crags near the shore; and Euryalus cried his war-cry, and in the sea-roaring din cloud-high Halimedes was stung to battle. And against the twin armies sea-Ares thundered after the land-fight, and with a sea-roaring shout upon the Bacchic hulls the hulls of the Indians flowed on; and there was slaughter on both sides, and the waves boiled with gore, and a great host of both fell; and with new-shed blood the back of the dark sea grew red. And many here and there, falling in the pouring of death, the swollen sailors floated upon the sea; and with the eddies, having the ferrying winds for whirling, the dead crowd was dragged along, running with the unsparing breeze; and many beneath the self-rolling whirl of the battle-din slipped into the stream, and drinking by necessity the bitter water perceived the threads of underwater Fate, weighed down by the breastplate; and the black water of the swollen sea covered the like-colored bodies of the dark dead in the seaweed depth, and with the water-coursing wearer the bronze tunic was buried in the muddy clay; and the sea became a tomb. And many were entombed in the jaws of sea-monsters, and in its fishy throat a seal, tossing the breathless corpse, entombed it, belching forth the yellow stream of blood. And of the slain the sea drank up the armor, and of the newly-slaughtered wearer of itself the crested helmet floated through the water as the bond was loosened, and on the storm-driven flood of the wandering sea the rounds of many an ox-hide shield swam with their wet baldric. And much beneath the wave-tips the reddening foam bubbled up from the gray brine, flecking the all-white pouring with a bloody trail. And Melicertes was reddened with bloody drops; and Leucothea raised her cry, the nurse of Lyaios, holding her neck high, and for the Indian-slaying victory the Nymph crowned her hair with the flower of the seaweed; and Thetis without her veil, leaning up out of the sea, propping her hands on Doris and Panopeia, stretched a glad eye toward good-wand Dionysus. And from the deep Galatea, through the sea's gulf half-seen was borne, grazing the calm, and at the sea-startling Enyo of the murderous Cyclops gazing she was shaken, and changed her cheeks with fear; for she hoped to see Polyphemus in the Indian battle fighting in arms with Lyaios against Deriades; and trembling she entreated sea Aphrodite to save the son of Poseidon doing valiant deeds, and besought the dark-haired, child-loving sire to shield Polyphemus as he fought, for his son's sake. And the daughters of Nereus circled round the bearer of the deep trident; and propped upon his trident the sea Earth-shaker gazed at the neighboring battle, and watching the host of well-armored Dionysus, jealous as he saw the Enyo of the other Cyclops, to watery-warring Bromios he broke out with a much-reproachful voice: "To the battle-cry, dear Bacchus, gathering so many Cyclopes, and leaving one alone far from the fight, for seven years' time you have a many-circled contest, feeding the shifting hope of an endless war, since the champions of your great contest all need one unconquered Polyphemus; but if my son the Cyclops had come to your fight, and had brandished the prong of my father's trident, then, fighting in arms with Dionysus over the plain, he would have crushed the breast of bull-horned Deriades, and cleaving the great dread throng with my trident he would have killed the whole race of Indians in one dawn. My other son of old, holding a hundred hands, helped your father, the destroyer of the Titans, many-armed Aegaeon, when, drawing Cronos to flight, he stretched out the wide-scattered tribe of his towering palms, having a high-necked mane that shadowed the sun, and the grim Titans were banished from Olympus, cowering before the Enyo of skillful Briareus." Such a word he spoke in envy with an indignant voice. And Thoosa in shame held her cheeks downcast, since love-mad Polyphemus was not present at the war. And as the toil of the loud-roaring battle-din came to its end, Nereus beheld his accustomed sea streaming with blood; and the Earth-shaker marveled at the yellow back of the sea, seeing the man-eating fish and, with the multitude of corpses, the unwetted back of the neighboring sea bridged over . . . And the Bacchic phalanxes flowed on against the blazing host. And the boundless army of the enemy lay dead, of those who in the fight were struck with swords and sharp-piercing arrows. On one a shaft fell above the flank, and another, struck with the bronze spear above the rim of the middle temple, had his wound dug deep as his head was scored. And many here and there of the wide-scattered rowers, cleaving the sea with alternating oars, whitened the dark, close-following pouring with foam, and there was useless toil for the eager rowers, and the bound cables, with the helping iron, the steersman cut, and split the rope with his sword. And of both phalanxes, sending a whir through the air, flowed the long-shadowed rain of unwandering arrows; of which one struck the very middle of the mast, and another, passing through, made the well-twisting sail boom, running with the breezes, another was fixed in the forestays, and another in the mast-step lay fallen, and another, a shaft wandering through the air, hit the topmost of the high-crested yard-arm, and another was stretched out on the benches; and close at hand others, straying from the steersman's path, unsteadily grazed the tips of the rudder's peak; and Phlogios famed for the bow, drawing a wind-swift shaft, struck the ship's deck and did not hit Lyaios. And one might see upon the sea a fine-winged wandering shaft twined about the curving folds of a crooked octopus; and one missed another; and with the Erythraean iron another, hurling at Dionysus, struck a pompilus fish; and Corymbasus shot with his spear, that he might hit a Satyr's oar-blade, and the lance, darting past, scored the double tail of the water-coursing fish with its sharpened point; and aiming his iron at the useless mark of unwounded Dionysus Deriades sent his spear, and straying from Bacchus the deadly point busied itself with the back of a dolphin, where the curving neck of the fish joins its crest, and the dolphin, self-twisting at the accustomed circling goal, half-dead leaped with the spring of dancing Fate; and many here and there, tumblers of destruction, the fish danced as their backs were scored. And Steropes fought in front; and high-footed Halimedes, taking in his hand a crag of the sea-born hill, hurled it at the enemy; and the wandering ship sank, struck by the rough stone in its wheeling round. And one lance, thrown across one hull, neighbor to a hull, yoked both, the sea-running point of the spear, binding the two ships in a common bond as they were crowded cloud-wise; and there was a discordant echo. And the fleet of both held a four-yoked Enyo, of which one was about the back of the opposite blazing Eurus, another by the wing of dewy Libs, another by Boreas, and by the Southern edge. And with alternating gusts swift-kneed Morrheus, stepping from hull to hull, frightened the sea-startling Enyo of the Bassarids, doing valiant deeds in the waters too; but with his wand Euios wounded him and drew him back from the watery fight, and toiling in pain Morrheus went to the city. While the divine wound that had fallen to his lot the demonic hand of the pain-loosing Brahman healed with Phoebean art, murmuring a chattering hymn beneath a divine song, meanwhile against the enemy Lydian Ares pressed on. For them there was a battle-rousing voyage, and Enyo held the lead of the sailing, and of the sea-clashing battle-din there was a tumult of both kinds; for of the enemy all who were shot with hard arrows or with murderous leaf-points or spears or swords, oaring their unaccustomed hands into the black water with unsteady strokes were entombed in the sea; but if any warrior of Bromios fell into the brine struck, tossing his palms he swam, cleaving the waves with sea-fighting hands, and in the sea-roaring din fighting in the surge he split the water along with the men. And Cronion inclined the scales of the sea-battle, making ready a watery victory for Dionysus; and with the deep trident the dark-haired god armed himself, fighting against the foe, and driving the unwetted car of Poseidon, Melicertes raved in bacchic frenzy. And riding on four storms across the sea, towering up the waves, the winds armed themselves, wishing to abolish the line of the enemy's ships, some helpers of Deriades, some of Lyaios; and Zephyrus was armed, and the South wind hissed against Eurus, and Boreas, bringing the opposing Thracian blast, lashed the wild back of the maddened sea. And guiding the battling fleet of Deriades Strife led the way of the fight; but of the ships of Dionysus with Indian-slaying hand Victory swelled the sails. And setting his battling conch to his wet lips Nereus bellowed a tune with the sea-trumpet; and Thetis rang out the tune of the war-Echo, shielding Lyaios with her father's waves. And Eurymedon the Cabeirus, lifting his accustomed brand, found a stratagem to help the fight; for his own long ship he set ablaze, kindling a willing fire; and at the Bacchic nods, leaping about the sea, and with slanting curves stepping from hull to hull, the wandering torch swam into a self-twisting circle, burning here and there the line of the wide-scattered ships. And seeing the glare of the fire-stricken sea a Nereid without her veil sank into the depths of the deep, fleeing the watery fire through the blazing water. And the Indian throng withdrew to the land, leaving the sea; and Phaethon laughed, that after his former bonds out of the fire of Hephaestus the sea-fighting Ares fled again. And Deriades, beyond reach, seeing the flame running with the breezes, flew to the plain, tossing his knees more swiftly, fleeing the watery War of sea-battling Dionysus.