The Taking of Ilios

The end of the war of many toils, long deferred, and the ambush, the horse-borne work of Argive Athena — sing them at once to me as I press on, releasing a long tale, Calliope, and the ancient strife of men, the war now decided, resolve in a swift song.

Already, as the tenth year rolled on, aged Enyo, never sated with slaughter, was stretched at length over Trojans and Danaans alike. With men being slain, the spears were worn out, the threats of swords were dying, the din of breastplates was quenched, and the coiled joinework of the shield-bearing baldrics, torn, was failing; the shields no longer endured to abide the thud of javelins, the curved bows were unstrung, the swift arrows ran down spent. The horses, some standing apart at the idle manger, looking pitifully downward, mourned for their yoke-mates, others longing for their drivers who had perished. There lay the son of Peleus, holding his dead companion, and old Nestor mourned over his son Antilochus, and Ajax, having loosed his mighty frame by a self-dealt wound, washed his hated sword in a downpour of maddened blood. For the Trojans, mourning the dishonouring dragging of Hector, there was not only a grief at home, but, wailing also over the sorrows of foreigners, they answered with the tears of their many-tongued allies. The Lycians wept for Sarpedon, whom once his mother sent to Troy, exulting in the bed of Zeus, and when he fell by the spear of Patroclus, son of Menoetius, his father's air was poured down, weeping with blood. And in the treacherous night, bound fast by an evil sleep, the Thracians wailed for Rhesus; and over the doom of Memnon his mother Dawn bound on a heavenly cloud, stealing away the light of a downcast day. And the women from war-loving Thermodon, beating the rounded unripe bud of an unsuckling breast, mourned the war-minded maiden Penthesileia, who, coming to the dance of the hospitable-to-many war, by a woman's hand scattered a cloud of men toward the sea-near ships; but Achilles alone, standing against her with the ash spear, both slew her and stripped her and gave her burial. And still it stood, beneath its god-built towers, Ilios, mounted upon unswerving foundations, and the host of the Achaeans chafed at the grievous delay. And now, shrinking from the last labours, Athena, though tireless, might have sweated in vain, had not a foreign seer, leaving aside the bride-thieving outrage of Deiphobus, come from Ilios to the Danaans, who, doing a favour somehow to toiling Menelaus, prophesied a late-fulfilled destruction for his own country. And they, by the prophecies of jealous Helenus, straightway prepared the end of the long-drawn struggle. And, leaving the maiden-fair city of Scyros, the son of Achilles and of grim Deidameia came; not yet with the down of youth on his shapely temples, young warrior as he was, he showed his father's prowess. And Athena came too, bringing to the Danaans her own holy image, a captive though she was, yet a helper to her friends. And now, by the counsels of the goddess, Epeius her helper was making the horse, that huge image hateful to Troy. And the timbers were cut and brought down to the plain from Ida itself, whence before, too, Phereclus built the ships for Alexander, the beginning of woe. He hollowed out a belly fitted to the broadest flanks, as great a span as the builder turns true to the line for the upright bulk of a curved ship. And he fixed a neck upon the carven breast, sprinkling the purple-edged mane with yellow gold; and it, swelling on high upon the arched neck, was sealed from the crown with a crested band. He set in eyes of stone in two circles, of grey beryl and bloody amethyst; and as the two were mingled, with the gleam of a twin hue the grey stones reddened in the spirals of his eyes. He carved silvery teeth upon the jaws, straining to bite the tips of the well-twisted bit; and unseen he opened the passages of the great mouth, keeping a back-flowing breath for the men hidden within, and through the nostrils the life-giving air flowed. He fixed the ears upon the topmost temples, quite upright, always ready to abide the sound of the trumpet. He fitted the back together with the flanks and the supple spine, and joined the haunches with the slippery buttocks. A loose tail trailed down upon the hinder tracks, like a vine drawn down by its curving tendrils. The feet, advancing on dappled knees, were as if about to arm themselves for a well-winged course; so they pressed on, though necessity bade them stay still. Beneath the legs the hoofs jutted, not without bronze, and were clamped with the spirals of a gleaming tortoise-shell, touching the ground hardly at all with their strong-clawed bronze. He set in a closing door and a fashioned ladder: the one, fitted unseen upon the flank, to carry this way and that the famed-for-horses ambush of the Achaeans, the other, that, unfolding and again coming firmly into one, might be their road to leap up from above and down below. And around its white neck and its jaws he girded all about with the purple flowers of straps, and with the winding coils of the constraining bit, gluing them on with ivory and silver-eddying bronze. But when he had wrought the whole battle-abiding horse, he set a well-rimmed wheel beneath each of its feet, that, drawn over the plains, it might be obedient and not, when forced, travel a road hard to traverse. So it flashed out with much terror and beauty, broad and tall; nor, had he found it living, would horse-loving Ares have refused to drive it. And a great wall was built around it, lest any of the Achaeans should see it too soon and kindle the plot to common knowledge. And they, near the Mycenaean ship of Agamemnon, fleeing the tumult and surge of the gathering host, the kings of the Achaeans assembled in council. And taking the shape of a clear-voiced herald, impetuous Athena, sharing his counsel, stood beside Odysseus, anointing the man's voice with honey-sweet nectar. But he, turning his mind over with divine counsels, at first stood like an empty-witted man, fixing the cast of his unwavering eye upon the ground; then suddenly, opening the birth-pangs of ever-flowing words, he thundered terribly, and like a heavenly spring poured out a great flood of honey-dripping snow: 'Friends, the hidden ambush is now accomplished by human hands, but by the counsels of Athena. You, then, who most of all trust in the strength of your arms, willing, with valiant mind and patient heart, follow me. For it is not fitting that, being here so long a time, we should toil to no purpose and grow old in idleness, but we must, while living, accomplish a deed to be sung, or by a bloody death escape inglorious shame. There is better comfort for us than for them, if you have not forgotten the sparrow and the ancient serpent and the fair plane-tree, and over the swift-doomed young the mother dragged and her tender nestlings. But if old Calchas put it off with his prophesyings, yet even so the divinations of Helenus the seer, the wanderer come over to us, summon us to readiest victory. Therefore obey me, and into the horse's belly let us boldly press, that this self-chosen grief, the deceiving craft of the fearless goddess, the Trojans may bring into Ilios, cherishing their own ruin. But the rest of you, loose the stern-cables of the ships, casting your own fire into the woven huts; and leaving the desolate shore of the Trojan land, sail all together a homeward return, false in name, until, from a well-mooring lookout point stretched out, fire signal you, gathered on the neighbouring shore, to turn back to the westward voyage. And then let there be no hesitation in the hastening rowers, nor any other cloud of fear, such as nights bring to men, the terrors of a light heart. But let there be a kindred shame of former valour, and let no one disgrace his own glory, so that each may receive a reward of horsemanship worthy of what he toiled.' So speaking he led off the counsel; and his words god-like Neoptolemus was the first to follow, like a colt hastening over a dewy plain, which, glorying in its newly-yoked headstall, outruns both the whip and the threat of its driver. The son of Tydeus, Diomedes, rushed up to Neoptolemus, marvelling that Achilles too had been such of old. There followed also Cyanippus, whom noble Comaetho, daughter of Tydeus, having found a short-lived bridal chamber, bore as a swift-doomed son to shield-shaking Aegialeus. Menelaus too stood up; and a wild impulse drove him to battle with Deiphobus, and he boiled with a savage heart, eager to find a second ravisher of his marriage. After him there leapt the swift Locrian Ajax, son of Oileus, still keeping a prudent heart, not raging lawlessly after the maidens; and he raised up another too, Idomeneus, the half-grey king of the Cretans. With them went mighty Thrasymedes, son of Nestor, and the far-shooting son of Telamon, Teucer, came on; and after them rose the horse-rich son of Admetus, Eumelus; and after him the seer Calchas rushed, knowing well that, having accomplished the impossible labour, the Achaeans would now ride down the Trojan city. Nor were those left out who turned away from the help — Eurypylus son of Euaemon and the good Leonteus, Demophoon and Acamas, the two children of Theseus, Anticlus son of Ortyx, whom, dead there in the horse, the Achaeans tearfully gave to burial; Peneleos and Meges and brave Antiphates, Iphidamas and Eurydamas, of Pelias' line, and Amphidamas armed with the bow; and last of all Epeius, glorying in the cunning of his own craft, mounted up. Then, having prayed to the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus, they hastened into the horse, that hollow vessel; and to them Athena, mixing it with ambrosia, brought the food of the gods to have for their meal, lest, lying in ambush all day long, worn out, their knees should grow heavy with joyless hunger. And as, when with the frosts of storm-footed clouds the snow has rimed the air and powdered the fields, and, melting, has sent down a great stream — and from the rock the beasts, cowering at the din of the mountain-fed river that leaps down sharply in a tumbling tumult, have withdrawn beneath the fold of a hollow lair, and in silence, on their shuddering flanks, abide, and, bitterly hungering under wretched constraint, patient, await when the mighty water shall cease — so these, having leapt through the hollow timber-thicket, the Achaeans, untiring, endured unbearable toils. For them Odysseus, the faithful gatekeeper of the inscrutable plot, shut the door of the pregnant horse. And he himself sat as lookout in the head; and both his eyes, longing, none knew they were within and looking out. And the son of Atreus bade the serving Achaeans loosen the stone enclosure with well-curved mattocks, by which the horse had been hidden; for he wished to show it bare, that, seen from afar by all men, it might send its grace. And they dug it out by the king's command. And when the sun, drawing the back-shadowing night over men, turned the far-shooting dawn to the mist-footed west, then the cry of the heralds scattered abroad among the host, announcing flight, and to drag down into the hollow sea the well-prowed ships and to loose the stern-cables. And there, raising up the rush of pine-fed fire and burning the enclosures of their well-built huts, they put out with the ships from the Rhoetean shore to the anchorage opposite, of well-garlanded Tenedos, unfolding the grey water of Athamantid Helle. Alone, his limbs gashed of his own will with blows, Sinon, son of Aesimus, the deceiving hero, was left behind, hiding from the Trojans a secret plot and woes. And as when, with stakes ringing the net about, hunting men have fixed a many-eyed ambush for the mountain-roaming beasts; and one, picked out alone from the rest, secretly sunk beneath the thick branches, the beast-watching man lies hid, peering at the nets — so then, stippled over his maimed limbs, he contrived grim destruction for Troy. And down his shoulders from the self-made wounds the blood ran in floods. And around the huts the fire raged all night long, belching up smoke that whirled about with wandering blast; loud-roaring Hephaestus bade it on; and the storms of every kind she shook, herself breathing upon them, the mother of immortal fire, light-bringing Hera. And now to the Trojans and the women of Ilios, beneath the shadowy dawn, came the rumour of many voices, announcing the enemy's flight by the smoke that gave the sign. At once, throwing open the bars of the gates, they sprang out, both foot and horse, and poured out onto the plain, searching, lest there be some other trick of the Achaeans. And others, the elders of the people, having yoked the swift mules to the wagons, came down from the city with king Priam; and they were made very light of heart, warming themselves with thoughts of their children, those bloody Ares had spared, foreseeing too a free old age; but they were not to rejoice for long, since the will of Zeus desired it. And they, when they saw the cunning shape of the dappled horse, marvelled, thronging round it, as when the clamorous jackdaws, seeing a valiant eagle, screech all about him. And among them fell a confused and divided counsel: for some, worn out with the heavy-grieving war, loathing the horse, since it was the work of the Achaeans, wished either to dash it against the long crags, or to break it apart with double-edged axes; but others, trusting in the works of the newly-polished craft, bade dedicate the warlike horse to the immortals, that it might afterward be a token of the Argive struggle. While they pondered these things, bearing his all-spotted limbs, naked over the plain appeared the ill-used man; and the weals, heavy with unseemly blood, showed the disfiguring traces of the swift straps. At once, grovelling before the feet of Priam, with suppliant hands he grasped the old man's knees, and, entreating the old man, cried out his cunning tale: 'A man who sailed with the Argives, if you pity me, and if you will save me, the Trojans' protector and the city's, sceptred son of Dardanus, and the last enemy of the Achaeans — such things they did to me in their outrage, heeding not the gods' regard, though I did no wrong, base and savage as they always are; for so they snatched the prize of Achilles, son of Aeacus, so they left Philoctetes fettered by the water-snake's bite, and slew Palamedes himself, in their envy. And now, what things the reckless men did to me, because I would not flee with them, but bade my companions stay; and they, mastered by mad and reckless folly, stripped me of my clothes, and with unseemly whips, wounding my whole body, left me on a foreign shore. But, blessed one, guard the reverence of suppliant Zeus; for I shall be a joy to the Argives, if you let a suppliant and a stranger perish by the hands of the Trojans. But I will be a sufficient help to you all, no longer to dread the war of the returning Achaeans.' So he spoke; and the old man soothed him with a gentle voice: 'Stranger, you, mingled now among the Trojans, no longer have cause for fear; for you have escaped the hostile outrage of the Achaeans. You shall be our friend always, nor shall the sweet longing for your country or your wealthy halls seize you. But come, tell me too, what is this marvel made for you, this horse, a portent of unsoftening terror; and tell me your name and lineage, and from where the ships brought you.' Then, taking courage, the resourceful hero answered him: 'I will tell these things too; for you bid me, and I am willing. Argos is my city, and Sinon is the name laid on me; Aesimus they call my grey-haired father; and Epeius found this horse for the Argives, of old prophecy: for if you let it remain here in its place, it is fated that the spear of the Achaeans take the city of Troy; but if Athena receive it in her temples, a holy image, they will flee, escaping, their labours unaccomplished. But come, throwing the wreathing ropes around it, drag the great golden-bridled horse to the citadel; and may Athena, the city-saver, lead us on, herself eager to receive the cunning offering.' So he spoke; and the king bade them take and clothe him in a cloak and a tunic, and they, having bound it with ox-hide ropes, with well-plaited cables, drew it over the plain, that rider of swift wheels, the horse stuffed with chiefs; and before it flutes and lyres sang out the same song. Wretched, mindless race of mortals, for whom a mist hides what is to come! Under empty joy, many men often, stumbling round, blunder into destruction. Such was the man-destroying ruin that then, for the Trojans, revelled into the city of its own accord; nor did any man know that it dragged in furious, unforgettable grief. And cutting flowers from the dewy river, they crowned the neck-locks of their own slayer. And the earth, torn beneath the bronze wheels, roared terribly, and the iron axles, rubbed through them, groaned out a harsh sound; the joining of the ropes creaked, and the whole twisted cable, stretched, sent up a sooty smoke. A great cry and clamour of the haulers arose; shadowy Ida roared with her nymphs and oaks together, and the circling water of the river Xanthus shouted, and the mouth of Simois cried aloud; and the heavenly trumpet prophesied the war drawn from Zeus. And they led it onward; but the long road grew heavy, split by rivers and unlike the level plain. And the dappled horse followed to the war-loving altars, glorying haughtily, and Athena pressed her strength upon it, laying heavy hands upon the new-carved thighs. So running on, unstayable, it ran faster than an arrow, pursuing the Trojans in their nimble travels, until at last it set foot upon the Dardanian gates. For it, as it came, the folds of the doors were too narrow; but Hera loosed it again upon the road's course, drawing back the gates before it, and Poseidon from the towers struck back with his trident the lintel of the opening gates. And the Trojan women through the city, this one and that, brides and brides-to-be and women skilled in childbirth, whirled with song and dance around the image; and others, drawing off the downy grace of the rain, spread rosy coverlets along the wooden track. And others, loosing the breast-bands of their sea-purple girdles, wove the horse about with spun flowers. And one, lifting the cover of a measureless jar, pouring out wine mixed with golden saffron, soaked the loose earth with fragrant clay. With the cry of men was mingled the voice of women, and the shout of children blended with the sound of old age. And as, the migrant wanderers from rich Ocean, the attendants of winter, the ranks of air-voiced cranes, furrow the ring of their wandering dance, crying out hatefully to the earth-toiling ploughmen — so these, with clamour and tumult through the city, led to the citadel the horse heavy within. And the god-driven daughter of Priam no longer wished to stay in her chambers; bursting the bars, she ran like a flighty heifer, which, when struck, the goad of the ox-destroying gadfly has startled; and she looks no more toward the herd, nor obeys the herdsman, nor longs for pasture, but, sharpened by the keen dart, has gone out from the ordinances of cattle — such, beneath the sting of the prophetic stroke, was the maiden, distraught, shaking her heart's holy laurel. Everywhere she bellowed through the city; and of her parents and of her friends she took no heed; the maiden's modesty had left her. Not so does the sweet flute of mountain-mad Dionysus strike the Thracian woman in the woods, who, smitten by the god, strains a wandering eye and shakes her bare head with dark-bound ivy — as she, springing up from her winged mind, Cassandra, god-haunted, raged; and often, tearing her hair and her breast, she cried out with a maenad's voice: 'O wretched ones, what hostile horse is this you bring, in your madness, you doomed ones, and toward the last night you hasten, and toward war's end and a sleep none wakes from? This is the warlike revel-band of the enemy; and even now, perhaps, the throes of wretched Hecabe's dreams are giving birth, and the year of deferred labour ends, the war undone. Such an ambush of chiefs is coming, whom for battle, flashing in armour beneath the darkest night, the mighty horse will bring forth; and just leaping to the ground, the most perfect of warriors will rush to the fray. For not over the birth-pangs will women hold back the horse that brings men to a hard delivery as it is brought to bed; but Eileithyia herself will be the one who made it; and, laying the swollen belly back, she will cry aloud, the midwife of a much-wept birth, city-sacking Athena. And now within the towers there rolls a purple sea of shed blood and a wave of slaughter, and bridal bonds of compassion are plaited round the hands of women, and beneath the timbers fire lurks, hidden. Alas for my woes, alas for you, my native city! At once you shall be fine dust; the work of the immortals is gone, the deep-rooted foundations of Laomedon. And you, father, and you, mother, I lament, for what you both shall now suffer: you, father, fallen pitiably with a crash, shall lie beside the altar of great Zeus of the Court; and you, mother of noble children, the gods shall make from human form a raging dog over your children. And you, divine Polyxena, near your native land laid low, I shall weep a little; would that one of the Argives might destroy me too over your lamentations! For what need have I of more life, if it keeps me for a most piteous death, and a foreign earth shall cover me? Such gifts my mistress, and the lord himself, weaves as a doom for Agamemnon, in return for so many toils. But now take thought — these things you shall know by suffering — and put off, my friends, the cloud of mind-destroying ruin. Let the body of the capacious horse be broken with axes, or burned with fire; and let the hidden bodies it conceals perish, and let great longing come upon the Danaans. And then feast for me, and rouse yourselves to the dance, setting up bowls of lovely freedom.' So she spoke; but no one obeyed her; for Apollo had made her both a good prophet and one not believed. And her father rebuked her, crying out with words: 'What ill-named spirit has brought you here again, evil prophet, bold dog-fly? In vain you keep us off with your barking. Has your mind not yet grown weary of its raving sickness, nor have you had your fill of ill-omened ravings? But you have come, grieving even at our festivities, when Zeus, son of Cronos, has kindled a free day for us all, and scattered the ships of the Achaeans. No longer are the long spears brandished, nor the bows drawn, no flash of swords; the arrows are silent, but there are dances and honey-breathing song; no more strife, nor does a mother mourn over her son, nor, having sent her husband to battle, does a widowed woman weep over his corpse; the city-guardian Athena receives the horse drawn up to her. Bold maiden, but you, leaping out before the house, prophesying lies and raging savagely, toil to no end and defile the holy city. Be gone, then; for us are dances and feasts the care. For no longer is dread left beneath the walls of Troy, nor do we any longer need your prophetic voice.' So speaking, he bade them lead the wayward maiden, hiding her in her chambers; and hardly, unwilling, did she obey her father, and, falling upon her maiden couch, she wept, knowing her own doom; and already she saw the fire fighting on the walls of her burning country. And they, beneath the temple of the city-guarding goddess Athena, having set up the horse upon well-polished bases, burned fair sacrifices on the savour-rich altars; but the immortals refused the unaccomplishable hecatombs. A public banquet there was, and helpless insolence, insolence made light by the drunkenness of man-loosing wine. And the whole city was crammed with folly and gaped in heedlessness, and only a few guards had care of the gates; for already the light was sinking, and a fateful night, city-destroying, wrapped steep Ilios about. And to Argive Helen, having fashioned an aged form, came, with crafty thoughts, much-counselling Aphrodite, and calling her out, addressed her with persuasive voice: 'Dear bride, your husband, lordly Menelaus, calls you, hidden in the wooden horse; and about him the Achaean leaders lie in ambush, the suitors of your contests. But come, and let there be no more care to you of old Priam, nor of the other Trojans, nor of Deiphobus himself; for now I give you to much-enduring Menelaus.' So speaking, the goddess ran back again; and she, her heart bewitched by the cunning, left the fragrant chamber, and Deiphobus her husband followed her; and as she went, the trailing-robed Trojan women gazed upon her. And when she came to the high-roofed temple of Athena, she stood, scanning the form of the manly horse. And three times circling it and provoking the Argives, she named all the fair-haired wives of the Achaeans with a thin voice; and within, they tore their hearts, the wretches, holding back their pent tears in silence. Menelaus groaned, when he heard the daughter of Tyndareus; Diomedes wept, remembering Aegialeia; and the name of Penelope startled Odysseus, and Anticlus, when he caught the goad of Laodameia, alone made ready to answer, opening his mouth; but Odysseus leapt upon him, and with both hands falling on him, pressed shut the mouth eager to be loosed. Gripping the throat with unbreakable, inescapable bonds, he held him fast; and the man writhed, gripped by the hands, fleeing the monstrous bonds of murderous silence. And the life-bearing breath left him; and the others, the Achaeans, having wept over him with secret tears, hid him away within the hollow haunch of the horse and threw a cloak over his cold limbs. And now the crafty-minded woman would have beguiled another of the Achaeans, had not grim-eyed Pallas, meeting her from the air, threatened her, and led her out of the beloved temple, appearing to her alone, and sent her off with a stern voice: 'Wretched one, how long will your sins carry you on, and the longing for another's bed, and the ruin of the Cyprian? Do you never pity your former husband, nor long for your daughter Hermione? And do you still help the Trojans? Withdraw, and going up to the upper chamber of your hall, with kindly fire await the ships of the Achaeans.' So speaking, she scattered the empty deceit of the woman. And her feet bore her to the chamber; and they, ceasing from the dance, worn out with weariness, sank down in sleep. And now the lyre had fallen silent, and the flute lay spent upon the mixing-bowl, and many spilled cups ran of themselves, drawn down from the loosening hands. Quiet fed upon the city, the companion of night, nor was the barking of dogs heard, but all silence stood, calling for the slaughter-breathing cry. And now Zeus, the steward of war, drew down for the Trojans the deadly balance, and hardly stirred the Achaeans; and Phoebus Apollo withdrew from Ilios to the rich temple of Lycia, grieving over the great walls. At once, beside the tomb of Achilles, Sinon showed forth the signal to the Argives with a bright torch; and all night, above the chamber, beautiful Helen herself displayed to her companions a golden pine-brand. And as, when the moon, full of grey fire, gilds the gleaming heaven with her face — not when, sharpening the points of her horn, first appearing beneath the month, she rises in shadowless mist, but when, having rounded the circling beam of her eye, she draws to herself the answering rays of the sun — so, shining then, the Therapnaean bride lifted up her wine-dark arm, the driver of friendly fire. And they, seeing the gleam of the torch on high, backed their ships along the bending paths, the Argives hastening, and every sailor pressed on, seeking to find the end of the long war. And these same men were both sailors and strong fighters, and bade one another row; and the ships, swifter than the swift winds, by a quickly-obeyed rush, were brought up to Ilios by Poseidon's help. There then the foot-soldiers went first, and the horsemen were left behind, lest with the horses' rising neighing they should rouse the Trojan host. And the others streamed from the hollow belly of the horse, the armoured kings, like bees from an oak, which, when they have toiled within the capacious hive, weaving with varied craft the honey-sweet comb, and, poured forth from the well-hollowed vessel to the pasture, harm with their stings the wayfarers passing by — so the Danaans, loosing the bolts of the hidden ambush, leapt upon the Trojans and, while they still kept to their beds, covered them with the evil dreams of bronze death. The earth swam with blood, and an unceasing cry arose of the fleeing Trojans, and holy Ilios was crammed with falling corpses; and they, in murderous uproar, boiled this way and that, raging like lions, bridging the streets with newly-slain bodies. And the Trojan women, hearing from above the roofs, some still thirsting for lovely freedom, laid their necks unto death beneath their wretched husbands, and some over their dear children, like light swallows, mothers lamented; and a young woman, weeping over a gasping youth, hastened to die herself, nor would she follow along in the bonds of captivity, but provoked, even unwilling, her own slayer, and held a common bed owed to her bedfellow. And many, bearing untimely and breathless children, loosing the burden of an unripe-birthing womb in a flood, froze to death miserably, themselves together with their children. And all night Enyo danced through the city, like a tempest foaming with the waves of loud-roaring war, the reveller of the unmixed drunkenness of blood. And with her Strife, raising up a head as high as heaven, spurred on the Argives, since bloody Ares too, late though it was, yet even so came bringing to the Danaans a victory that shifts the balance of wars, and his ever-changing help. And grey-eyed Athena shouted from the citadel, shaking the aegis, the shield of Zeus; and the air trembled as Hera rushed on, and the heavy earth roared beneath, shaken by the trident-point of Poseidon, and Hades shuddered, and looked out from his underworld throne in dread, lest somehow, Zeus being greatly angered, soul-conveying Hermes should lead down the whole race of men. All things together were churned up, and there was an indiscriminate slaughter: for those who fled toward the Scaean gates they slew, standing over them, and one, leaping up from his bed, searching for his arms, fell upon a spear in the dark. And one, hidden in a shadowy house, being a stranger, called out, thinking him a friend — fool, he was not to meet with a kindly man, but received hostile gifts; and another, above the roof, not yet seeing anything, fell to a swift arrow. And some, their hearts weighed down with grievous wine, startled at the din, hastening to come down, forgot the ladder, and from the high halls fell, not knowing it, and, their neck-bones loosed, broke their joints, and together belched up the wine. And many, gathered close in one place, were slain as they fought, and many, pursued along the towers, fell into Hades, leaping their very last leap. And a few, through a narrow hollow, like thieves, escaped unnoticed the storm of their perishing country. And those within, surging with war and gloom, like men gone, not like men fleeing, fell upon one another; and the city could not hold the gore, emptied of its men, but brimming over with corpses. Nor was there any sparing; but with a frenzied lash of the sleepless tumult driving them on, they had no regard for the gods, but with a most lawless rush stained the griefless altars of the immortals with blood. And most piteous, the old men with most dishonouring slaughter were slain, not even upright, but stretching out their suppliant limbs on the ground, sank down upon their grey heads. And many infant children from the breasts of their short-lived mothers were snatched, and, understanding nothing, paid the price of their parents' faults; and of unsuckled milk, holding it out in vain to her child, the nurse brought a libation. And birds and dogs throughout the city, this way and that, in the air and on foot, fellow-feasters at the hearth, drinking black blood, had a merciless meal, and the screech of the one breathed slaughter, and the others, barking, howled savagely over the men being cut down, pitiless, nor cared they that they tore their own masters. And the two set out for the house of woman-mad Deiphobus, Odysseus and long-haired Menelaus, like ravenous wolves, which, beneath the night of winter, slaughtering among the unshepherded sheep, go their way, and wear out the toil of the herdsmen. There, though they were but two, they were mingled with countless hostile men; and a new fight arose, the one side rushing on, the others from above out of the chamber casting stones and swift-doomed arrows. But even so, towering up their haughty heads, ringing them with unbreakable helmets and shields, they leapt into the great house; and the opposing throng, beasts of dread, Odysseus drove on and cut down, while the son of Atreus on the other side, pursuing the cowering Deiphobus, caught him, and striking the middle of his belly, poured out his liver together with his slippery bowels. So he lay there, forgetful of his horsemanship, and his spear-won bedfellow followed him, trembling, now rejoicing at the end of her evil toils, now ashamed, and now, late though it was, as in a dream secretly groaning, she remembered her dear country. And the son of Aeacus, Neoptolemus, slew the old king, worn out with sufferings, beside the altar of Zeus of the Court, thrusting aside his father's pity; nor did he heed the entreaties, nor, seeing the hair like Peleus' own, reverence it, though for its sake Achilles, deep-angered as he was, had once broken his heart and spared the old man. Reckless one — yet a like doom was sure to follow him too, beside the altar of truthful Apollo afterward, when, as the destroyer of the sacred temple, a Delphian man drove him through and slew him with a holy knife. And she, seeing him tumbling from the airy towers — the deadly shaft of Odysseus' hand — Andromache wailed for short-lived Astyanax. And swift Ajax, son of Oileus, defiled Cassandra as she fell beneath the knees of the pure goddess Pallas; but the goddess refused her aid, and Athena, who before had helped, because of one man was angered at all the Argives. And Aphrodite stole away Aeneas and Anchises, pitying the old man and the son, and far from his country settled him in Ausonia; and the will of the gods was fulfilled, Zeus approving, that there might be an imperishable power for the sons and grandsons of war-loving Aphrodite. And the children and the line of godlike Antenor the son of Atreus guarded, of the hospitable old man, repaying the favour of his former kindness and of that table at which the gentle woman Theano received him. Wretched Laodice, you, near your native land, the earth, folding you in its gaping bosom, received; nor did Acamas son of Theseus, nor any other of the Achaeans, lead you off as plunder, but you died together with your native land. The whole flood of the battle I could not sing, distinguishing each thing and the sufferings of that night; this is the Muses' toil, and I, as I drive the horse, touch the curving song that grazes its goal. For just now, set in motion from the eastern Ocean, gently whitening, dawn was tracing the broad air, having broken through the blood-stained night, the horsewoman Dawn; and they, exulting in the over-proud victory of the wars, peered everywhere through the city, in case any others, stealing away, were fleeing the public cry of slaughter. But they had been mastered by the all-catching net of death, like fish poured out upon the sea sands, and the Argives carried off from the halls the new-made adornment, the offerings of the temples, and seized many heirlooms of the deserted chambers; and the women they led as plunder, with their children, by force to the ships. And arming the city-sacking flame against the walls, with one breath they confounded the works of Poseidon. There a great sign was made for its own dear citizens, Ilios in flames; and the city-destroying ruin of the fire, Xanthus, seeing it, wept with a sea-flowing fount of laments, yet yielded to Hephaestus, dreading the wrath of Hera. And they, pouring upon the tomb the blood of Polyxena, having appeased the wrath of the dead son of Aeacus, allotted the Trojan women among them, and all else, gold and silver, they divided; and loading their deep ships with these, through the loud-roaring sea the Achaeans put out from Troy, the struggle accomplished.