第39章 BOOK VI(3)

The hero by the hair was dragging her From her swift steed, with fierce resolve to wrest With his strong hands the Girdle Marvellous From the Amazon Queen, while quailing shrank away The Maids of War. There in the Thracian land Were Diomedes' grim man-eating steeds:

These at their gruesome mangers had he slain, And dead they lay with their fiend-hearted lord.

There lay the bulk of giant Geryon Dead mid his kine. His gory heads were cast In dust, dashed down by that resistless club.

Before him slain lay that most murderous hound Orthros, in furious might like Cerberus His brother-hound: a herdman lay thereby, Eurytion, all bedabbled with his blood.

There were the Golden Apples wrought, that gleamed In the Hesperides' garden undefiled:

All round the fearful Serpent's dead coils lay, And shrank the Maids aghast from Zeus' bold son.

And there, a dread sight even for Gods to see, Was Cerberus, whom the Loathly Worm had borne To Typho in a craggy cavern's gloom Close on the borders of Eternal Night, A hideous monster, warder of the Gate Of Hades, Home of Wailing, jailer-hound Of dead folk in the shadowy Gulf of Doom.

But lightly Zeus' son with his crashing blows Tamed him, and haled him from the cataract flood Of Styx, with heavy-drooping head, and dragged The Dog sore loth to the strange upper air All dauntlessly. And there, at the world's end, Were Caucasus' long glens, where Hercules, Rending Prometheus' chains, and hurling them This way and that with fragments of the rock Whereinto they were riveted, set free The mighty Titan. Arrow-smitten lay The Eagle of the Torment therebeside.

There stormed the wild rout of the Centaurs round The hall of Pholus: goaded on by Strife And wine, with Hercules the monsters fought.

Amidst the pine-trunks stricken to death they lay Still grasping those strange weapons in dead hands, While some with stems long-shafted still fought on In fury, and refrained not from the strife;

And all their heads, gashed in the pitiless fight, Were drenched with gore -- the whole scene seemed to live -- With blood the wine was mingled: meats and bowls And tables in one ruin shattered lay.

There by Evenus' torrent, in fierce wrath For his sweet bride, he laid with the arrow low Nessus in mid-flight. There withal was wrought Antaeus' brawny strength, who challenged him To wrestling-strife; he in those sinewy arms Raised high above the earth, was crushed to death.

There where swift Hellespont meets the outer sea, Lay the sea-monster slain by his ruthless shafts, While from Hesione he rent her chains.

Of bold Alcides many a deed beside Shone on the broad shield of Eurypylus.

He seemed the War-god, as from rank to rank He sped; rejoiced the Trojans following him, Seeing his arms, and him clothed with the might Of Gods; and Paris hailed him to the fray:

"Glad am I for thy coming, for mine heart Trusts that the Argives all shall wretchedly Be with their ships destroyed; for such a man Mid Greeks or Trojans never have I seen.

Now, by the strength and fury of Hercules -- To whom in stature, might, and goodlihead Most like thou art I pray thee, have in mind Him, and resolve to match his deeds with thine.

Be the strong shield of Trojans hard-bestead:

Win us a breathing-space. Thou only, I trow, From perishing Troy canst thrust the dark doom back."

With kindling words he spake. That hero cried:

"Great-hearted Paris, like the Blessed Ones In goodlihead, this lieth foreordained On the Gods' knees, who in the fight shall fall, And who outlive it. I, as honour bids, And as my strength sufficeth, will not flinch From Troy's defence. I swear to turn from fight Never, except in victory or death."

Gallantly spake he: with exceeding joy Rejoiced the Trojans. Champions then he chose, Alexander and Aeneas fiery-souled, Polydamas, Pammon, and Deiphobus, And Aethicus, of Paphlagonian men The staunchest man to stem the tide of war;

These chose he, cunning all in battle-toil, To meet the foe in forefront of the fight.

Swiftly they strode before that warrior-throng Then from the city cheering charged. The host Followed them in their thousands, as when bees Follow by bands their leaders from the hives, With loud hum on a spring day pouring forth.

So to the fight the warriors followed these;

And, as they charged, the thunder-tramp of men And steeds, and clang of armour, rang to heaven.

As when a rushing mighty wind stirs up The barren sea-plain from its nethermost floor, And darkling to the strand roll roaring waves Belching sea-tangle from the bursting surf, And wild sounds rise from beaches harvestless;

So, as they charged, the wide earth rang again.

Now from their rampart forth the Argives poured Round godlike Agamemnon. Rang their shouts Cheering each other on to face the fight, And not to cower beside the ships in dread Of onset-shouts of battle-eager foes.

They met those charging hosts with hearts as light As calves bear, when they leap to meet the kine Down faring from hill-pastures in the spring Unto the steading, when the fields are green With corn-blades, when the earth is glad with flowers, And bowls are brimmed with milk of kine and ewes, And multitudinous lowing far and near Uprises as the mothers meet their young, And in their midst the herdman joys; so great Was the uproar that rose when met the fronts Of battle: dread it rang on either hand.

Hard-strained was then the fight: incarnate Strife Stalked through the midst, with Slaughter ghastly-faced.

Crashed bull-hide shields, and spears, and helmet-crests Meeting: the brass flashed out like leaping flames.

Bristled the battle with the lances; earth Ran red with blood, as slaughtered heroes fell And horses, mid a tangle of shattered ears, Some yet with spear-wounds gasping, while on them Others were falling. Through the air upshrieked An awful indistinguishable roar;

For on both hosts fell iron-hearted Strife.