第3章 BOOK I(1)

How died for Troy the Queen of the Amazons, Penthesileia.

When godlike Hector by Peleides slain Passed, and the pyre had ravined up his flesh, And earth had veiled his bones, the Trojans then Tarried in Priam's city, sore afraid Before the might of stout-heart Aeacus' son:

As kine they were, that midst the copses shrink From faring forth to meet a lion grim, But in dense thickets terror-huddled cower;

So in their fortress shivered these to see That mighty man. Of those already dead They thought of all whose lives he reft away As by Scamander's outfall on he rushed, And all that in mid-flight to that high wall He slew, how he quelled Hector, how he haled His corse round Troy; -- yea, and of all beside Laid low by him since that first day whereon O'er restless seas he brought the Trojans doom.

Ay, all these they remembered, while they stayed Thus in their town, and o'er them anguished grief Hovered dark-winged, as though that very day All Troy with shrieks were crumbling down in fire.

Then from Thermodon, from broad-sweeping streams, Came, clothed upon with beauty of Goddesses, Penthesileia -- came athirst indeed For groan-resounding battle, but yet more Fleeing abhorred reproach and evil fame, Lest they of her own folk should rail on her Because of her own sister's death, for whom Ever her sorrows waxed, Hippolyte, Whom she had struck dead with her mighty spear, Not of her will -- 'twas at a stag she hurled.

So came she to the far-famed land of Troy.

Yea, and her warrior spirit pricked her on, Of murder's dread pollution thus to cleanse Her soul, and with such sacrifice to appease The Awful Ones, the Erinnyes, who in wrath For her slain sister straightway haunted her Unseen: for ever round the sinner's steps They hover; none may 'scape those Goddesses.

And with her followed twelve beside, each one A princess, hot for war and battle grim, Far-famous each, yet handmaids unto her:

Penthesileia far outshone them all.

As when in the broad sky amidst the stars The moon rides over all pre-eminent, When through the thunderclouds the cleaving heavens Open, when sleep the fury-breathing winds;

So peerless was she mid that charging host.

Clonie was there, Polemusa, Derinoe, Evandre, and Antandre, and Bremusa, Hippothoe, dark-eyed Harmothoe, Alcibie, Derimacheia, Antibrote, And Thermodosa glorying with the spear.

All these to battle fared with warrior-souled Penthesileia: even as when descends Dawn from Olympus' crest of adamant, Dawn, heart-exultant in her radiant steeds Amidst the bright-haired Hours; and o'er them all, How flawless-fair soever these may be, Her splendour of beauty glows pre-eminent;

So peerless amid all the Amazons Unto Troy-town Penthesileia came.

To right, to left, from all sides hurrying thronged The Trojans, greatly marvelling, when they saw The tireless War-god's child, the mailed maid, Like to the Blessed Gods; for in her face Glowed beauty glorious and terrible.

Her smile was ravishing: beneath her brows Her love-enkindling eyes shone like to stars, And with the crimson rose of shamefastness Bright were her cheeks, and mantled over them Unearthly grace with battle-prowess clad.

Then joyed Troy's folk, despite past agonies, As when, far-gazing from a height, the hinds Behold a rainbow spanning the wide sea, When they be yearning for the heaven-sent shower, When the parched fields be craving for the rain;

Then the great sky at last is overgloomed, And men see that fair sign of coming wind And imminent rain, and seeing, they are glad, Who for their corn-fields' plight sore sighed before;

Even so the sons of Troy when they beheld There in their land Penthesileia dread Afire for battle, were exceeding glad;

For when the heart is thrilled with hope of good, All smart of evils past is wiped away:

So, after all his sighing and his pain, Gladdened a little while was Priam's soul.

As when a man who hath suffered many a pang From blinded eyes, sore longing to behold The light, and, if he may not, fain would die, Then at the last, by a cunning leech's skill, Or by a God's grace, sees the dawn-rose flush, Sees the mist rolled back from before his eyes, -- Yea, though clear vision come not as of old, Yet, after all his anguish, joys to have Some small relief, albeit the stings of pain Prick sharply yet beneath his eyelids; -- so Joyed the old king to see that terrible queen -- The shadowy joy of one in anguish whelmed For slain sons. Into his halls he led the Maid, And with glad welcome honoured her, as one Who greets a daughter to her home returned From a far country in the twentieth year;

And set a feast before her, sumptuous As battle-glorious kings, who have brought low Nations of foes, array in splendour of pomp, With hearts in pride of victory triumphing.

And gifts he gave her costly and fair to see, And pledged him to give many more, so she Would save the Trojans from the imminent doom.

And she such deeds she promised as no man Had hoped for, even to lay Achilles low, To smite the wide host of the Argive men, And cast the brands red-flaming on the ships.

Ah fool! -- but little knew she him, the lord Of ashen spears, how far Achilles' might In warrior-wasting strife o'erpassed her own!

But when Andromache, the stately child Of king Eetion, heard the wild queen's vaunt, Low to her own soul bitterly murmured she:

"Ah hapless! why with arrogant heart dost thou Speak such great swelling words? No strength is thine To grapple in fight with Peleus' aweless son.

Nay, doom and swift death shall he deal to thee.

Alas for thee! What madness thrills thy soul?

Fate and the end of death stand hard by thee!

Hector was mightier far to wield the spear Than thou, yet was for all his prowess slain, Slain for the bitter grief of Troy, whose folk The city through looked on him as a God.