Book 10
Late Antiquity Quintus Smyrnaeus Greek- The Trojans in their turn were outside the city of Priam, all with their armour and their chariots and their horses, swiftest of horses; for they were burning those slain in battle, fearing lest the host of the Achaeans should bear down upon them. And when they saw them rushing toward the city, hastily they cast a heaped barrow about their slain, hurrying; for terribly they trembled at the sight. And to them, grieving in their hearts, a word was spoken by Polydamas, for he was exceedingly prudent and wise of mind: O friends, no longer is the madness of Ares to be borne against us; but come, let us take thought, how we may find some device of war; for the Danaans prevail, standing fast. But now come, mounting upon the well-built towers, let us remain, fighting by nights and by days, until the Danaans come to deep-soiled Sparta, or here beside the wall grow weary as they wait, sitting inglorious; for they will not have the strength to break the long walls, however much they labour; for the imperishable works fashioned by the gods are not feeble. Nor are we anywhere in want of food or drink; for in the halls of Priam rich in gold there lie firm stores of food, which for many others too will be food for a long time as they gather, to their fill, even if a host three times as great should come here besides, longing to bring aid. So he spoke; but the bold son of Anchises rebuked him: Polydamas, how then do they say you are prudent, you who bid us suffer pains throughout the city for a long time? For the Achaeans will not grow weary here for long, but will bear down, seeing us shrinking back; and ours will be the grief, perishing in our fatherland, if somehow they besiege us here for a long time; for no one from Thebe will give us honey-sweet bread, when we are penned within the city, nor will any bring wine from Maeonia; but beneath grievous hunger we shall perish wretchedly, even though the wall defends us well. But if to escape evil death and the Fates, and not to die wretchedly in much-burdening hunger, is our purpose, then in our armour, with our children and our honoured fathers, let us fight; and somehow Zeus will help us; for we are of his glorious blood; but if we come to be hated even by him, it is better to perish gloriously, defending our fatherland, than, remaining, to die wretchedly. So he spoke; and all cried out in assent as they heard. And at once with helmets and shields and spears they fenced themselves against one another; and the eyes of tireless Zeus looked down from Olympus upon them arming for Ares, Trojans against Argives; and he roused the heart of each, that he might stretch unceasing battle over both peoples; for Alexander was now to die beneath the hands of Philoctetes, fighting for his wife. And Strife, mistress of tumult, led them to one place, seen by none; for a cloud encompassed her shoulders, blood-stained; and she ranged, stirring up great tumult, now into the gathering of the Trojans, now of the Achaeans; and Fear and Terror, fearless, waited about her, glorifying their strong-hearted father's sister; and she rose up mightily from small, raging; and she had armour of adamant spattered with gore; and she brandished a deadly spear into the air; and beneath her feet the dark earth was stirred; and she breathed forth a blast of fire, terrible; and ever loudly she shouted, urging on the young men; and they at once came together, arraying the battle; for the dread goddess led them to the great work. And as the cry of the winds blowing furiously, when spring begins, when the tall trees and the wood put forth leaves, or as when through a parched thicket fire blazes and roars, or as when the boundless sea rages from the harsh-sounding wind, and about it the surf becomes immeasurable, and the knees of the sailors tremble beneath them; so the vast earth resounded greatly beneath them as they rushed on; and strife fell among them; and man rushed upon man. First Aeneas of the Danaans took Harpalion, the son of Arizelus, whom his mother Amphinome bore in the land of the Boeotians, and he with divine Prothoenor came to Troy to defend the Argives; him then Aeneas, striking beneath the soft belly, robbed of his life and of sweet living. And after him he slew the son of wise Thersander, Hyllus, striking him with a barbed javelin in the throat, whom divine Arethusa bore beside the waters of Lethaeus in sea-girt Crete; and he greatly grieved Idomeneus. But the son of the son of Peleus slew twelve men of the Trojans at once beneath his father's spear: Cebrus first and Harmon and Pasitheus, and Hysminus and Imbrasius and Schedius and Phleges, and Mnaseus after them and Ennomus and Amphinous, and Phasis and Galenus, who had his house in lofty Gargarum, and was conspicuous among the fighting strong Trojans, and came with a boundless host to Troy; for greatly had the son of Dardanus, Priam, promised to give him many fine and very beautiful gifts, fool that he was; nor did he mark his own doom; for he was swiftly to perish in the grievous war, before he could bear the glorious gifts from the house of Priam. And then unseen Fate gave over to the Argives Eurymenes, the comrade of strong-hearted Aeneas. And she roused great courage beneath his heart, that, slaying many, he might fulfil his appointed day beneath destruction. And he laid low one here, one there, like a pitiless beast; and they did not withstand him in his last hour of life as he raged terribly and took no thought of doom; and now he would have done a boundless deed in that battle, had not his hands grown weary and his spear-point been wholly bent back; and his sword-hilt no longer held; but Fate broke it; and beneath his javelin Meges struck him in the gullet; and the blood gushed up from his mouth; and at once with pain Fate stood beside him. And of him being slain, two squires of Epeius, Deileon and Amphion, were minded to take his armour; but the bold strength of Aeneas laid them low as they raged wretchedly about the corpse. And as when in a vineyard one slays the wasps that dart about the drying grapes in the season of harvest, and they breathe out their life before they have tasted the fruit; so he quickly laid them low before they could plunder the armour. And the son of Tydeus slew Menon and Amphinous, both blameless men; and Paris took Demoleon, the son of Hippasus, who before dwelt in the Laconian land beside the outpourings of the deep-flowing river Eurotas, and came to Troy with war-swift Menelaus; and Paris slew him, hitting him beneath the right breast with an arrow, and scattered his life from his limbs. And Teucer took Zechis, the far-famed son of Medon, who dwelt in sheep-rich Phrygia beneath the holy cave of the fair-tressed Nymphs, where once, beholding from on high Endymion sleeping beside his cattle, divine Selene came down from heaven; for a keen longing for the youth drove her, immortal and undefiled though she was, of whose bed even now a token is fashioned beneath the oaks; for about her was poured in the thickets the milk of cattle; and men still gaze in wonder at it; for you would say, looking, that it is very far off, a grey milk; but it sends forth white water, and a little way off, whenever it comes, it congeals about the streams, and the ground turns to stone. And Meges, the son of Phyleus, rushed upon Alcaeus; and he pierced him as he gasped beneath the heart with his spear; and quickly his lovely life was loosed; nor did his wretched parents receive him coming home from the much-lamented war, though they longed for it, fair-girdled Phyllis and Margasus, who dwelt about the streams of the clear-watered Harpasus, which grievously joins its loud-roaring stream and boundless swell to the Maeander, raging all its days about its furious flood. And the noble comrade of Glaucus, Scylaceus of the good ashen spear, the son of Oileus wounded near at hand as he came against him, a little above the shield; and through his broad shoulder he drove the painful spear-point; and the blood gushed about the oxhide. But he did not slay him; for the day of doom received him coming home beside the walls of his dear fatherland; for when the swift Achaeans had sacked steep Ilium, then, fleeing from the war, he came to Lycia, alone, without his comrades; and near the city the women, gathered for their own children and for their husbands, asked him; and he told them the doom of all; and they, standing about him, with stones laid that man low, and he had no joy of his return to his native land, but the stones above covered him as he groaned greatly; and a deadly barrow was raised for him out of the missiles beside the precinct and the tomb of strong Bellerophon, in it, near the Titanian rock; but he, having fulfilled his appointed day beneath destruction, afterward, by the counsels of glorious Apollo, is honoured like a god, and his honour never wanes. And after these the son of Poeas slew Deioneus and the son of Antenor, Acamas of the good ashen spear; and of other young men he laid low a great throng; for he raged among the foe, like tireless Ares or a roaring river, which tears down long fences in flood, when, furiously stirred about the rocks, it comes grievously from the mountains, mingled with rain, ever-flowing though it is and strong-streaming, nor can the jutting rocks check it as it boils immeasurably; so none could endure even to look upon the bold son of glorious Poeas with their eyes and draw near him; for in his breast was matchless might. And he was adorned in the armour of wise Heracles, cunningly wrought; for about him on his shining belt were bears grim and shameless; and round about jackals, terrible, and leopards smiling balefully beneath their brows; and near them were strong-hearted wolves, and white-tusked boars and mighty lions, exceedingly like the living; and on every side battles were set with grievous slaughter. So many cunning things were wrought about his belt. And other things adorned his boundless quiver: on it was the son of Zeus, storm-footed Hermes, slaying great Argus beside the streams of Inachus, Argus, who slept with his eyes by turns; and on it the strength of Phaethon along the stream of Eridanus, struck from the chariot; and the earth was ablaze, and, as if truly, black smoke rose in the air; and godlike Perseus was cutting down grim Medusa, where the bathing-places of the stars are and the bounds of earth and the springs of deep-flowing Ocean, where with the tireless setting sun the evening night comes together; and on it was the great son of tireless Iapetus, hung from the crag of steep Caucasus in unbreakable bonds; and an eagle tore his liver, ever growing again; and he seemed to groan. And these the glorious hands of Hephaestus had wrought for mighty Heracles; and he gave them to the son of Poeas to bear, for he was a dear friend who shared his roof. And he, glorying in his armour, laid low the host. And at last Paris rushed upon him, wielding grievous arrows in his hands with his curved bow, boldly; for that day was his last. And he loosed a swift shaft from the string; and it whistled as the arrow sped on; nor did it fly vainly from his hands; and him indeed it missed, as he swerved a very little, but it struck Cleodorus, glorious though he was, a little above the breast, and drove through to his shoulder; for he had no broad shield, which might have kept off grievous doom; but he, being unarmed, was drawing back; for from his shoulders Polydamas had struck away his shield, cutting the strap with his heavy axe; and he gave way, fighting still with his painful spear; and the grievous shaft fell upon him, darting from another side; for so somehow the god willed to bring dread destruction upon the son of wise Lernus, whom Amphiale bore in the rich land of the Rhodians. And when Paris had laid him low with the grievous shaft, then the mighty son of blameless Poeas, raging, drawing his swift bow, loudly cried to him: O dog, how I will give you slaughter and unseen doom, since now you long to match yourself against me; and they will have respite, all who for your sake grievously suffer in war; for soon there will be release from destruction when you are slain here, since you are made their bane. So speaking, he drew the well-twisted string near to his breast, and the horn was bent into a circle, and the relentless shaft was aimed, and the dread point projected a little beyond the bow by the young man's force; and loudly rang the string as the harsh-sounding arrow sped on; nor did the divine man miss; yet his heart was not loosed, but still in his spirit he had strength; for not mortally did the shaft then fall upon him, but grazed his hand, scoring his fair flesh. And again he made ready his bow; but, anticipating him, the dear son of Poeas struck him with a barbed shaft above the groin; and he no longer stayed to fight, but swiftly sprang away, like a dog which, dreading a lion, draws back though rushing on before; so he, pierced to the heart with grievous pains, withdrew from the war. And the hosts joined in tumult, slaying one another; and the strife was in blood of the slain on either side; and corpses lay upon corpses, all together, like drops of rain or hail or flakes of snow, when the long mountains and the wood by the counsels of Zeus the West Wind and the storm besprinkle; so they on both sides, subdued by pitiless Doom, fell in heaps upon one another, struck down. And terribly Paris groaned; and about his wound his spirit was worn; and the physicians swiftly tended him in his distress. And the Trojans went to their own city; and the Danaans to the dark ships came swiftly; for them the black night stayed from tumult, and took the toil from their limbs, pouring sleep upon their eyelids, a defender against labour. But sleep did not seize swift Paris until the dawn; for none could ward off his hurt, though they longed to help with all manner of remedies, since it was fated for him to escape death and the Fates beneath the hands of Oenone, if she should be willing; and he at once, trusting in the prophecies, went, though unwilling; and deadly necessity led him to the face of his wedded wife; and grievous birds, meeting him, cried above his head, and others rushed across his left hand; and he at one moment feared as he beheld them, but at another hoped they flew without fulfilment; but they, amid his pains, revealed dread destruction. And he came to glorious Oenone; and beholding him, her handmaids were amazed, all together, and divine Oenone herself; and he at once fell at the woman's feet, subdued by the grievous wound, which grew black about him above and within, until it reached the rich marrow through the bone, since the dread venom had rotted his belly along the wounded flesh of the man. And he was worn, stricken to the heart with hateful pain; and as when one, burning with sickness and grievous great thirst, his heart aflame, his close-pressed soul is parched, whom the boiling bile inflames, and about him his sluggish soul flutters on his parched lips, longing both for life and for water; so beneath his breast his spirit was consumed with pain; and faintly he spoke this word: O reverend wife, do not now, worn though I am, hate me, since once I left you in the halls a widow, though against my will; for the inescapable Fates led me to Helen, with whom would that, before I lay in your arms, I had died and lost my life. But come, by the gods who dwell about the heaven, and by your marriage-bed and our wedded love, set a gentle heart, and ward off grievous anguish, laying healing drugs upon my deadly wound, which are fated to thrust the pains from my spirit, if you are willing; for it is in your mind whether to save me from harsh-sounding death, or not; but pity me quickly, and the strength of the swift-fated shafts cure, while still the might and limbs about me flourish; nor, remembering grievous jealousy, in any case leave me to die beneath relentless doom, fallen at your feet; for you will offend the Prayers, who themselves are the daughters of loud-thundering Zeus, and, wroth with overweening men, afterward send upon them the grievous Erinys and wrath; but you, lady, ward off the evil Fates quickly, even if I sinned somewhat in my folly. So he spoke; but he in no way persuaded her dark mind, but mocking him she answered, greatly grieved as he was: Why have you come to me, against whom before you left in the halls, wailing unspeakably, for the sake of the much-grieving daughter of Tyndareus, beside whom lying you took your joy, exulting, since she is far better than your wedded wife; for she, men say, is ageless; go to her quickly and supplicate her, nor to me in tears speak piteous and grievous words; would that I had in my heart the great might of a beast, to tear your flesh, and then to gulp your blood, for such pains as you have wrought me, trusting in your wickedness. Wretch, where now is your fair-crowned Cytherea? Where is tireless Zeus, forgetful of his son-in-law? Have them as your helpers; but from my halls far off withdraw, you bane grievous to gods and men alike; for on your account, sinner, grief seized even the immortals, some for their grandsons, some for their sons being slain. But begone from my house, and go to Helen, beside whom it is your lot, by night and by day distressed, to moan beside her bed, pierced with grievous pain, until she heal you of your painful agonies. So speaking, she sent him weeping from her dear halls, foolish; nor did she mark her own doom; for she too was, when he had perished, to follow him to the Fates swiftly; for so the destiny of Zeus had spun for her. And him, hastening away over the heights of shaggy Ida along the path to the farthest part, where dread doom led him grievously limping and greatly grieved at heart, Hera marked, and her immortal heart was warmed, seated on Olympus, where the orchard of Zeus is. And four handmaids sat near her, whom once bright-eyed Selene, subdued by the Sun, bore in the wide heaven, tireless, in no way like to one another; for in form they differed each from each: the first received the portion of toilsome summer, the second took thought for winter and the Goat-star; the third for spring, and the fourth delighted in harvest; for in four portions the life of mortals is changed, which those handmaids tend by turns; but these matters let them be a care to Zeus himself in heaven; and they were talking of all that deadly Fate in her destroying mind was devising, contriving the hateful marriage of the daughter of Tyndareus to Deiphobus, and the grievous wrath of Helenus and his anger about the woman, and how the sons of the Achaeans were to snatch him in the high mountains, wroth with the Trojans, and lead him to the swift ships, and how by his counsels the son of strong Tydeus, with Odysseus following, leaping over the great wall, was to bring grievous destruction upon Alcathous, seizing willing kindly Tritogeneia, who was the safeguard of the city and of the Trojans themselves; for not even any of the gods, however boundlessly wroth, had the strength to lay waste the prosperous city of Priam while the immortal, untroubled, stood before it; nor had men fashioned her immortal image of iron, but the son of Cronos himself from Olympus cast it down into the city of Priam rich in gold. So the wife of Zeus talked with her handmaids, and of many other things besides. And Paris his spirit on Ida left behind, nor did Helen behold him returned; and about him the Nymphs greatly wailed, because they still remembered in their minds all that before, from his childhood, when they came together, he had talked with them; and with them mourned the swift herdsmen of the cattle, grieving in their hearts; and the glens groaned in answer. And then to the wife of much-enduring Priam the herdsman told the dread doom of Alexander; and at once, when she heard, her spirit shook with trembling, and her limbs gave way beneath her; and she lamented this word: You are dead to me, dear child, and grief upon grief you have left me ever inescapable, since by far the best of my other children you were after Hector; therefore in misery I shall weep for you, while the heart yet throbs within my breast; for not without the blessed ones do we suffer this, but some Fate devised deadly works, which I ought not to have endured, but should have died before in peace and prosperity; but now upon woe I behold woe ever with my eyes, expecting to look on yet other things more evil, my children slain, and the city laid waste and burned with fire by the strong-hearted Danaans, and my sons' wives and my daughters with the other Trojan women dragged along with their children under the spear's compulsion. So she spoke, wailing; but her husband had heard nothing of it, but sat beside the tomb of Hector, shedding tears, because he was the best and guarded his fatherland with his spear; of him grieving in his keen heart he had heard nothing. But Helen, lamenting very much without ceasing, some things cried aloud among the Trojans, but other things her heart within her breast pondered; and to her own spirit she spoke: Husband, to me and to the Trojans and to you yourself a great woe, you have perished wretchedly; and me in hateful misery you have left, expecting to behold more deadly woes. Would that the Harpies had snatched me away before, when I followed you by the deadly destiny of fate; but now the gods have given woe to you and to myself, ill-fated; and all shudder at me unspeakably, and all hate my heart; nor do I know in any way how to escape; for if I flee to the host of the Danaans, at once they will dishonour my body; but if I remain, the Trojan men and women, standing about me, one from this side, one from that, will quickly tear me to pieces; and the earth will not cover my corpse, but dogs will rend it and the swift tribes of birds; would that Fate had taken me before I beheld these woes. So she spoke, mourning not so much for her husband as for herself, remembering her sin; and round about the Trojan women groaned as for him, but in their hearts pondered other things, some remembering their parents, some their husbands, some their children, and some their honoured kindred. But Oenone alone was torn in her glorious heart; yet not among the Trojan women being present did she wail, but apart, within her own halls, she lay groaning heavily upon the bed of her old husband. And as in the thickets the ice is congealed of the highest mountains, which besprinkles many glens, poured down by the gusts of the West Wind; but beneath the East Wind and the sun the snow melts, and the long crags, streaming with watery rills, grow wet, and it in the glens, boundless though it is, melts about the rushing spring, a chill water; so she, greatly distressed beneath hateful pain, melted, grieving for her wedded husband. And terribly groaning she addressed her dear spirit: Ah me for my folly, ah me for my hateful life, I who loved my ill-fated husband, with whom I hoped, worn by old age, to reach the glorious threshold of life, ever of one mind; but the gods cast it otherwise; would that the black Fates had snatched me away, when I was about to be apart from Alexander; but even if he left me while alive, I will dare a great deed, to die for his sake, since the dawn no longer pleases me. So she spoke; and piteously down her eyelids were poured tears, as, remembering that her wedded husband had fulfilled destruction, like wax beneath fire, she melted secretly, for she revered her own father and her fair-robed handmaids, until over the divine earth from the wide Ocean night was poured, bringing to mortals release from toil. And then, while her father slept within the halls and the slaves, she burst open the gates of the chambers and rushed forth, like a storm-blast; and her swift limbs bore her; and as when in the mountains a heifer that has greatly desired the bull is urged by her spirit to be borne on quick feet, hastening, and she, longing for love, fears not the herdsman, but an irresistible impulse bears her, if somewhere in the thickets she might see the familiar bull; so she, running swiftly, traversed the long ways, seeking quickly to mount the dread pyre with her feet. Nor did her knees grow weary; lighter were borne her feet ever as she hastened; for deadly Doom drove her on and Cypris; nor did she dread the shaggy beasts that met her under the night, before greatly shuddering; and all the rock of the shaggy mountains was trodden by her and the crags, and all the ravines were crossed. And her, looking down from on high, divine Selene remembered in her heart blameless Endymion, and greatly pitied her as she hastened; and above her shining brightly she lit up the long ways. And she came, borne on through the mountain, where the other Nymphs were wailing about the pyre of Alexander. And him a strong fire still encompassed, because for him the shepherds, gathering from the mountain, one from this side, one from that, had heaped up a wondrous pile of wood, bringing favour at the last, and grief alike to their comrade and their lord, weeping very much, standing about; but she in no way, when she beheld it openly, wailed, worn though she was, but, veiling her fair face in her robe, at once leapt upon the pyre; and she stirred up much lamentation; and she burned about her husband; and the Nymphs, one from this side, one from that, were amazed, when they beheld her fallen beside the man; and one in her own heart spoke this word: Truly Paris was reckless, who left his most faithful wedded wife, and brought home a wanton consort, a deadly grief to himself and the Trojans and the city, fool that he was; nor did he revere the heart of his wise wife, worn though she was, who beyond the light of the sun honoured him, even as he hated her and loved her not. So spoke one of the Nymphs in her heart; and they in the midst of the pyre burned, forgetful of the Dawn-goddess; and about them the herdsmen marvelled, as before the Argives marvelled, all together, when they beheld Evadne flung upon the limbs of Capaneus, about her husband, subdued by the grievous thunderbolt of Zeus. But when the deadly rush of fire had made an end of both, Oenone and Paris, and laid them low in a single ash, then they quenched the pyre with wine; and their bones they placed in a golden bowl; and about them a barrow they swiftly raised; and they set two pillars above, which face turned each one away from the other, still bearing toward each other a grievous jealousy.