Book 11

11. But the women of Troy were mourning throughout the city, nor were they able to come out to the tomb, for it lay very far away from the steep town; and the young men outside the walls toiled without rest, and the slaughtering battle did not cease, though Alexander had fallen with a crash, because the Achaeans pressed on against the Trojans toward the city, and these men too went out beyond the wall, since necessity led them on; for in their midst Strife and groaning Enyo ranged to and fro, like the grim Furies to look upon, both breathing deadly destruction from their mouths; and around them the Fates, with shameless heart, raged cruelly; and on the other side Panic and Ares spurred the hosts on; and Terror followed beside them, spattered with bloody gore, that men might, some be strengthened at the sight, while others fled; and everywhere the javelins and spears and shafts of men, this way and that, poured forth, eager for evil slaughter; and around them a din arose as they pressed close, fighting on both sides in the man-destroying joy of war.

There Neoptolemus slew Laodamas, who was reared in Lycia beside the fair streams of Xanthus, whom once the wife of loud-thundering Zeus, divine Leto, brought forth for men, when she had broken with her hands the rough soil of glorious Lycia, in the hour when by the toil of her divine travail, with much-enduring anguish, she was overcome by birth-pangs, such as the pangs awakened. After him he destroyed Nirus, striking him in the fight with his spear through the jaw; the bronze pierced his mouth and his speaking tongue; he, around the unbearable point of the spear, gripped it, bellowing; and the blood ran about his jaws as he tried to speak; and by the might of that strong hand the groaning spear drove him down to the floor of the earth, emptied of life. He struck noble Euenor a little above the flank, and drove the point clean into the middle of his liver; and grievous death met him at once. He took Iphition, and laid low Hippomedon, the mighty son of Maenalus, whom the Nymph Ocyrrhoe bore beside the stream of the river Sangarius; nor did she welcome his return; an evil Fate robbed her cruelly of her son, and cast great grief upon the father. And Aeneas slew Bremon and Andromachus, the one reared in Cnossus, the other in holy Lyctus; and both from their swift-footed horses fell to one spot; and the one gasped, pierced through the throat by the long spear, while the other, struck on the base of the painful temple by a groaning stone hurled from a very strong hand, breathed out his life, and black doom enfolded him. The horses, panicked and far from their charioteers, fleeing, wandered among the many corpses; and the squires of blameless Aeneas seized them and rejoiced in heart over the dear spoil.

There Philoctetes struck Peirasus with a deadly arrow as he fled from the war; it severed the bent sinews behind the knee, and broke the man's onrush; and when one of the Danaans saw him crippled, he swiftly stripped him of his head, striking with the sword the grievous tendon; and the earth received his maimed body; and his head, rolling apart, was carried off while his voice still struggled forth; and swiftly his life flew away.

And Polydamas struck Cleon and Eurymachus with the spear, who came from Syme under lord Nireus, both skilled in devising guile against the fish with the dread hook, and to cast into the bright sea their nets, and cunningly with their hands from the ship to wield the trident straight and swift against the fish; but their works of the sea did not ward off ruin from them then.

And Eurypylus, steadfast in war, slew glorious Hellus, whom his mother bore beside the Gygaean lake, fair-cheeked Cleito; and he was stretched in the dust face down; and far from him fell likewise the long spear from his sturdy shoulder, the hand still cut off by the cruel sword, still quivering to raise the spear toward the fray, all in vain; for no man guided it to the work, but it twitched of itself, as the tail of a grim serpent, cut off, leaps up, yet no strength follows it to the steep struggle, to chase the one who has wounded it; so the right hand of that strong-hearted man strove to labour at the spear-point; but its force no longer followed.

But Odysseus killed Aenus and Polyidus, both of the Ceteians, the one with the spear, the other with the grievous sword laying him low. And Sthenelus took noble Abas, hurling his javelin; and it, straight through the windpipe speeding, reached the grievous tendon of the neck; it loosed the man's heart, and unstrung all his limbs.

And the son of Tydeus took Laodocus, and Agamemnon Melius, and Deiphobus took Dryas and Alcimus; and Agenor slew Hippasus, glorious though he was, who came from the river Peneius; nor did he repay the lovely nurture to his parents, since a god broke him. There Thoas laid low Lalus and brave Lyncus, and Meriones killed Lycon, and Menelaus Archilochus, who dwelt below the Corycian ridge and the rock of wise Hephaestus, which is to mortals a wonder; for upon it burns an unwearied fire, unquenchable, by night and by day; and around it the date-palms flourish, and bear boundless fruit, their roots burning together with the stones; but that work, I think, the immortals fashioned, a marvel even for men to come.

And Teucer eagerly aimed to strike with his shaft Menoetes, the son of blameless Hippomedon, as he came on; and with mind and hands and eyes he guided the arrow from the curved horn; and it, grievous, leaped from his swift hand at the man; and beneath it the string still twanged; and the other gasped in answer, struck, since the Fates were borne together with the shaft straight to the heart, where the mind of men is seated and the spirit, and swift are the paths to death.

And Euryalus from his sturdy hand hurled a great stone far off, and made the swift ranks of the Trojans reel; as when a man, angered at long-voiced cranes, a guardian of the field, greatly vexed, rushes upon them, whirling about his head with quick hand the ox-sinew sling, and casts the stone against them, and with the whir scatters the long lines spread through the air, and they take flight, darting one upon another, wheeling about, with much clamour, who before had gone in good order; so the foe were scattered by the fearful missile of mighty Euryalus; and the god did not bear it in vain, but, helmet and all, the head of strong Meles it crushed about the eye-sockets; and the doom appointed found him.

So one slew another, and the land groaned around; as when, an immense wind bearing down fierce, beneath the gust of its deep-roaring blast, this way and that, tall trees fall, torn up from their roots, in a broad-floored grove, and all the earth roars around; so they fell in the dust, and their armour rang unspeakably, and the earth crashed loud around them; and they took thought of the grim turmoil, dealing ruin among themselves.

And then near Aeneas came kindly Apollo and the son of Antenor, warlike Eurymachus; for they were fighting against the mighty Achaeans, standing very close in the battle, as beneath a wagon two yoke-mates, strong oxen of like age, do not flag from their labour; and the god straightway spoke a word to them, likening himself to the seer Polymestor, whom once his mother bore beside the streams of Xanthus, a servant of the Far-shooter: "Eurymachus, and Aeneas, race of the gods, it is in no way fitting that you should yield to the Argives; for not even Ares himself, mighty though he is, will rejoice to meet you, if you are willing to fight in the fray, since the Fates have spun a long end of life for you both." So speaking, he mingled with the winds and became unseen; and they perceived in their minds the god's might; for at once upon them boundless courage was poured; and the spirit raged within their breasts, and they leaped upon the Argives, like cruel wasps, which in bitter anger from their heart bear down upon bees, which they see coming about the grapes drying in the harvest season, or darting from the hive; so the sons of Troy upon the war-loving Achaeans leaped eagerly; and the dark Fates rejoiced at the fighting; and Ares laughed; and Enyo shrieked terribly; and loud about them rang the gleaming armour.

And they kept slaughtering the countless tribes of the foe with unwearied hands; and the hosts kept falling likewise, as the swath in the season of warm summer, which the swift reapers hasten on with their hands, having shared out across the field the long measures of land; so beneath their hands the ranks kept falling, in thousands; and the earth, filled all around with the dead, flowed with blood; and Strife was warmed in heart at the dying; but they did not cease at all from the evil struggle, but came on like lions upon sheep; and the others took thought of wretched flight, and out of the deadly war fled, all whose strength still lay unbroken in their feet.

And the son of wise Anchises followed ever behind the foe, cutting their backs with his spear, and Eurymachus on the other side; and the immortal heart of far-shooting Apollo was warmed, looking down from above. As when a man against the swine that come into the dry cornfield, before the swath is laid low by the reapers, sets on his strong dogs to face them, and they, seeing them rush, tremble, and care no longer for the food, but turn to grievous flight all in a rush, and the dogs, swiftly overtaking them by foot, tear them mercilessly from behind, while they flee howling far off, and the lord of the field rejoices; so Phoebus was warmed, when he saw out of the war the great host of the Argives fleeing; for no longer were the deeds of men a care to them; but they prayed to the gods to bear their feet swiftly; for in their feet alone now lay the hope of return; for upon all of them came, raging with the spear, Eurymachus and Aeneas, and their comrades with them.

There a certain one of the Argives, either trusting wholly in strength, or by the will of Fate, who longed to destroy him, checked his horse as it fled from the ill-sounding war, eager to turn it back to the fray, that he might fight against the foe; but bold-hearted Agenor, forestalling him, cut his painful arm with the two-edged axe; and to the iron's force gave way the bone of the wounded arm; and the sinews it cut away easily; and the veins gushed forth blood; and he was flung down along the horse's neck; and at once he himself fell among the corpses; but he left his strong hand, still firmly clinging to the well-bent rein, just as it had been while he lived; and it was a great wonder, for from the rein there hung the bloody hand, by the prompting of Ares, bearing terror to the foe; you would have said it still longed to labour at the riding. And the horse bore it, a token of its slain master.

And Aeneas slew, striking with the spear above the loin, Aethalides; and the point passed out beside the navel, dragging the entrails with it; and he was stretched in the dust, clutching with his hands at once the point and his bowels, groaning terribly, and he set his teeth into the earth, bellowing; and his soul and his pains left the man.

And the Argives, like oxen, were panicked, which, straining eagerly beneath the yoke and the plough, the gadfly strikes under the flank with its long lips, thirsting for blood, and they, vexed beyond measure, flee far from the work, and the man grieves over them, both labouring at his labour and trembling for his oxen, lest somehow behind them, as the plough drives on, the merciless iron, striking against their feet, cut their sinews; so the Danaans fled; and around them grieved in heart the son of Achilles; and loudly he cried, restraining the host: "Ah, cowards, why do you flee, like worthless starlings, which a hawk, coming against them, has frightened? But come, set courage in your hearts, since it is far better to die in war than to choose unmanly flight." So he spoke; and they obeyed, setting a bold mind in their breasts quickly; and he, with high heart, rushed upon the Trojans, brandishing in his hands the swift spear; and the hosts of the Myrmidons followed him, with might like a storm in their breasts; and the Argives drew breath from the turmoil; and he, swiftly like his own dear father in spirit, slew one after another in the fray; and they, withdrawing, gave way, like waves, which from the north wind's storm roll thick and seething upon the shores, rising from the sea, and them another blast from elsewhere, darting against them, raging in a great whirlwind, drives back from the beaches, while the North still blows a little; so the Trojans, who before pressed on against the Danaans, the son of godlike Achilles thrust back a little, since the noble might of bold-hearted Aeneas would not let them flee, but bade them stand in the dread fray boldly; and on either side Enyo stretched the strife even. But not at all against Aeneas did the son of Achilles hurl the spear of his own father, but turned his heart elsewhere, since Thetis of the splendid robe, in reverence for Cytherea, turned her grandson's spirit and great strength against other tribes of the host.

There the one slew many of the Trojans, while the other of the Achaeans laid low countless tribes; and over the slain in the strife the birds rejoiced, eager to tear the entrails of men and their flesh; and the Nymphs lamented, the daughters of fair-flowing Simoeis and of Xanthus.

And so they laboured; and the unwearied winds raised boundless dust; and a divine mist clouded over all the air above, like an unseen fog, nor was the earth seen, and it blinded the eyes of mortals; but even so they fought; and whomever they took in their hands they slew without mercy, even if he were most dear; for it was not possible in the turmoil to mark the foe coming on, nor yet a comrade; and helplessness held the hosts. And now they would have been confounded together and perished cruelly, all alike, falling upon one another's deadly swords, had not the son of Cronos from Olympus warded it from them in their distress, and driven the dust apart from the fight, and calmed the deadly blasts. But they still strove on; yet their toil was made far lighter; for they could see whether they must slay the foeman in the turmoil, or whether to avoid him. And now the Danaans drove back the throng of the Trojans, and now again the Trojans the ranks of the Danaans; and dread was the battle; and like snowflakes the missiles fell, coming from both sides; and fear held the shepherds watching the war from far off, from the Idaean mountains. And one, lifting his hands to the heavenly ones in the sky, prayed that all the foe might perish beneath Ares, but that the Trojans might draw breath from the groaning war, and one day look upon a free day; but to him in no way did they hearken; for Fate, full of groans, was pondering otherwise; and she revered neither huge Zeus, nor any other of the immortals; for the grim mind of her is never turned, whatever doom upon men at their birth, upon men or upon cities, she spins with her inescapable thread; and beneath her all things, some waste away, some grow; and by her promptings the toil and the strife arose for the horse-fighting Trojans and the spear-fighting Achaeans. And they wrought slaughter and pitiless doom for one another without rest; for no fear held them, but they fought with eager will; for courage draws men on to the spear.

But when many had perished in the dust, then for the Argives the higher strength was roused by the promptings of warlike Pallas, who, coming very near to the battle, greatly defended the Argives, eager to sack the famous city of Priam. And then noble Aphrodite snatched glorious Aeneas, she who greatly groaned at the slaying of Alexander, herself away from the war and the deadly fray, swiftly; and about him she poured much mist; for it was no longer fated that that man in the strife should fight the Argives before the steep wall. Therefore she shunned the wise Tritogeneia exceedingly, from her heart, as she was eager to help the Danaans, lest even beyond his doom the goddess should take him; for not even of Ares himself had she spared before, who was far stronger. And the Trojans no longer held their place at the mouth of battle, but drew back, with astonished heart; for upon them, like raw-devouring beasts, the Argives leaped, raging greatly for Ares. And as these were laid low, the rivers were filled with corpses and the plain; for many fell in heaps in the dust, men and horses; and very many chariots lay scattered of the fallen; and everywhere boundless blood flowed like rain; for deadly Fate came on the turmoil. And some, pierced by swords or by ashen spears, lay beside one another, like spilled timbers, when upon the shore of the heavy-thundering sea men loose the countless lashings from the toil-wrought bolts and scatter the long beams and the wood of a lofty raft, and everywhere the broad beach is filled, and the black swell washes against them; so these, in the dust and blood laid low, lay, forgetful of the much-bewailed onset. And a few, escaping the pitiless fray, plunged into the city, avoiding heavy woe; and their wives and children received from their bloodied bodies all the armour, foul with grim gore. And for all warm baths were prepared; and through all the town the healers hastened to the houses of the wounded warriors, busying themselves, that they might heal the wounded. And their wives and children lamented around them as they came from the war; and many, not present, they called by name; and some, smitten in heart with hateful grief, lay groaning heavily over their pains; while others to supper turned from their toil; and the swift horses neighed beside them, whinnying eagerly at their fodder; and on the other side the Achaeans beside their huts and ships laboured even as the Trojans.

And when Dawn had driven her gleaming horses over the streams of Ocean, and the tribes of men awoke, then the warlike sons of the mighty Argives, some went toward the steep city of Priam, while others in the huts beside the wounded men remained, lest at any time the grievous host, bearing down, should take the ships, bringing favour to the Trojans; and these from the towers fought against the Argives; and grievous turmoil arose. Before the Scaean gate the son of Capaneus fought together with godlike Diomedes; and these from above Deiphobus, steadfast in war, and strong Polites, together with other comrades, kept back with arrows and with stones; and there clashed around the men, struck, the helmets and the shields, which warded the grievous doom of the warriors and their pitiless fate. And about the Idaean gates the son of Achilles contended; and around him all the Myrmidons laboured, skilled in the strong onset; and from the wall there held them off with countless shafts boldly Helenus and bold-hearted Agenor, urging on the Trojans in the fray; and they too of themselves fought eagerly about the walls of their dear fatherland. And toward the plain by the gates, and toward the swift-faring ships as they went, Odysseus and Eurypylus laboured without rest; and these from the high rampart noble Aeneas, with high thoughts, kept off with stones. And toward the stream of Simoeis a painful toil held Teucer of the good ashen spear; and elsewhere each had his own woe. And then around wise Odysseus the glorious men, by his cunning device, toward the labour of Ares fitted their shields, and cast them above their heads, setting them upon one another; and the whole joined in one joining; you would have said it was the close-roofed covering of a hall, which neither the rush of the wind, blowing wet, boundless, passes through, nor the unspeakable rain from Zeus; such were the ranks of the Argives, covered round with ox-hides, made firm; and they held one mind for valour, joined into one; and from above the sons of Troy hurled stones; and these, as from a hard rock, rolled down upon the firm earth; and many spears and groaning missiles and grievous javelins stuck in the shields, and some in the ground, and many far off were borne in vain, bent aside by the shafts, as they were struck from every side; and they did not flee the din at all, immense as it was, nor gave way, as those who hear the patter of raindrops; and upward beneath the wall they went together; nor did any of them stand apart; but, joined together, they pressed on, like a misty cloud, which, in the depth of winter, the son of Cronos stretches long from the highest sky. And much roar was about the phalanx, and a clatter beneath the feet of those advancing arose; and the winds far off bore the rising dust a very little above the ground behind the warriors; and a confused cry rang round, as beneath the hives the bees hum; and panting rose abundant in a flood, and the breath spread around of the host as it gasped; and boundlessly in heart the sons of Atreus rejoiced, exulting over themselves, beholding the fearless fence against the ill-sounding war; and they purposed at the gates of god-born Priam, crowded close, with two-edged axes, to break the long walls, and to thrust the gates down to the ground, having dragged them from their hinges; and noble counsel held hope; but neither the ox-hides availed them nor the swift axes, since the might of Aeneas, mighty, sent against them a stone fitted to both his hands, in his eagerness, and he laid low with grievous doom the men whom he caught beneath their shields, as in the mountains the goats feeding beneath a crag by the force of a broken cliff, and all that graze nearby tremble; so the Danaans were amazed; and he still, from above, hurled stones thick and fast, and the ranks were utterly thrown into confusion; as when in the mountains the Olympian Zeus from heaven breaks the crags joined about a single peak, this way and that, beneath his thunders and the smoking thunderbolt, and around the sheep tremble and flee this way and that; so the sons of the Achaeans shrank back, because among them Aeneas swiftly shattered the bulwark of the war, made of unwearied shields, because to him a god had thrust boundless strength; nor could any of them endure to look him in the face in the strife, because around his sturdy limbs there gleamed his armour, like to the divine lightnings; and near him stood, his form hidden in darkness, dread Ares, and he guided all the missiles that bore either death or dread fear upon the Argives; and he fought as when the Olympian Zeus himself in heaven, in his wrath, laid low the overweening tribes of the Giants, terrible, and shook the boundless earth and Tethys and Ocean and the sky, and all around the limbs of Atlas quaked beneath the unwearied rush of Zeus; so beneath Aeneas the ranks of the Argives fell in ruin in the strife; for he, around the wall on every side, rushed against the foe in his wrath, and from his hands everything that met his eagerness as he hastened to the toil he hurled, since very many defences against the evil of war lay upon the walls of the war-steadfast Dardanians, with which Aeneas, raging in his great strength, kept off the great host of the foe; and around him the Trojans held firm; and evil misery held them all about the city; and many fell, both of the Achaeans and also of the Trojans; and loud they cried on both sides, Aeneas bidding the war-loving Trojans fight for their city, their wives, and themselves eagerly; while the son of war-steadfast Achilles bade the Argives beside the famous walls of Troy remain, until, having burned the city with fire, they took it. And both groaning and unspeakable was the cry that wrapped them as they fought all day in the turmoil; nor was there any breathing-space from the war for them, longing in heart, the one side to take the city beneath Ares, the other to save it.

And Ajax, apart from bold-hearted Aeneas, fighting against the Trojans, sent evil dooms upon them with his far-shooting bow, since for him now the straight shaft flew through the air, and now again the grievous javelins; and one upon another he slew; and they, cowering before the valour of the blameless man, no longer held their place in the fray; and the host left the walls. And then his squire, by far the best in battle of the Locrians, Alcimedon the high-hearted, trusting in his king and in his own strength and bold youth, eager for war, set his swift feet upon the ladder, that he might make a path to the city for his men, a grievous one; and, to be a defence for his own head, having set his shield above it, he went up the cruel ways, setting a fearless mind in his heart; and in his hand now he brandished the merciless spear, and now again he crept upward; and the airy path bore him swiftly. And now there would have been grief for the Trojans, had not, as he already peered over and looked upon the city, for the last time and the first, from the high rampart, Aeneas rushed upon him, since the assault did not escape him, nor was he far off; and he struck him with a broad stone on the head; and the great force of the strong-hearted man shattered the ladder beneath him; and he from on high, like an arrow sped from the bowstring, fell; and deadly doom followed him as he whirled about; and his groaning spirit with the air was swiftly mingled, before he reached the hard ground; and he crashed down upon the earth in his breastplate, because his sturdy spear and broad shield were flung away from him, and his strong helmet; and the host of the Locrians groaned around, when they saw the man laid low by evil ruin; for from his shaggy head this way and that his brain was bespattered; and all were crushed together, his bones and swift limbs, befouled with grim gore.

And then the noble son of godlike Poeas, when he saw Aeneas raging about the walls, in might like a wild beast, straightway sent forth an arrow, aiming it at the glorious man; nor did he miss the man, yet in no way through the unwearied shield did it reach his fair flesh, for Cytherea turned it aside and the shield, but it just grazed the ox-hide skin. Yet it did not fall to the ground in vain, but Medon, between the shield and the horse-haired helmet, it struck; and he fell down from the tower, as from a rock a man strikes a wild goat with a groaning shaft; so he fell and was stretched out; and the sacred life left him.

And Aeneas, in anger for his comrade, hurled a stone, and slew the noble comrade of Philoctetes, Toxaechmes; and he crushed his head, and shattered all his bones with the helmet; and his bright heart was loosed. And at him the son of noble Poeas cried aloud: "Aeneas, now you hope in your heart to be the best, labouring from the tower, where women fight against the foe, all unwarlike; but if you are anyone, come outside the wall in your armour, that you may learn to know the bold son of Poeas both by spear and by arrows." So he spoke; but to him the bold son of Anchises, though he wished it, made no answer, because there arose a wretched struggle about the long walls and the town without rest; for they ceased not at all from the evil fray; nor for them, sorely tried beneath Ares for a long while, was there any release from toil; and the labour rose unending.