The Battle at the Ships

Chapter summary

After taking Hector and the Trojans to the ships, Zeus leaves them there in the pain of the battle and turns his bright eyes to the land of the Thracians, the Mysians, and the Abians, the most just of men. He does not expect any of the immortals to come and help the Trojans or the Danaans. But Poseidon, seated on the peak of Samothrace, from where he can see Ida, the city of Priam, and the ships, pities the Achaeans defeated by the Trojans and is indignant with Zeus. He comes down from the mountain, and the mountain trembles beneath his immortal feet; he reaches Aegae, where he keeps his golden palace in the depths of the sea, yokes his horses with bronze hooves and golden manes, clothes himself in gold and takes the whip, and crosses the waves in a chariot whose axle the water does not even wet, while sea monsters play around him. He hides the horses in a cave between Tenedos and Imbros, gives them immortal fodder, and binds their feet with golden shackles, so that they will wait for the return of their master.

The Trojans follow Hector like flame or a storm, shouting, certain that they will take the ships and kill all the best men there. Poseidon, in the form and firm voice of the seer Calchas, first speaks to Ajax, son of Telamon, and to Ajax, son of Oileus, who were already eager to fight. He tells them that they will save the army if they remember their courage and drive away icy fear: elsewhere he does not fear Trojan hands, because the Greeks will hold them back, but he fears the place where Hector, who claims to be the son of Zeus, commands like a maddened flame. He asks that some god put into the hearts of the two firmness and the resolve to urge the others on, and that thus they would drive him back, even though the Olympian himself incites him. He touches the two with his staff, fills them with strength, and makes their limbs light, and he departs like a hawk that rises from a rock. The Ajax son of Oileus recognizes the god by the traces of his feet and legs, which show as he goes, and tells the other that one of the gods, in the form of a seer, orders them to fight beside the ships, and that his own spirit already calls for combat, with restless feet and hands. The son of Telamon replies that he feels the same and wants to face Hector alone.

Poseidon then rouses the others, who were resting beside the ships, exhausted, with weak legs, and weeping as they saw the Trojans inside the wall, certain they would not escape the evil. He goes to Teucer, Leitus, Peneleos, Thoas, Deipyrus, Meriones, and Antilochus, and shames them: he says he never thought to see the Trojans, once like fleeing deer, attack the ships. He blames this on the wickedness of the leader and the softness of the people, who, quarreling with him, do not want to defend the ships and die among them. But even if Agamemnon is to blame for dishonoring Achilles, they cannot abandon the war, because the spirits of good men can be healed. He asks each one to feel shame and indignation, because the struggle is great and Hector has already broken through the gates and the bar that closed them. Around the two Ajaxes they form close ranks, shield against shield, helmet against helmet, man against man, the kind that neither Ares nor Athena would have scorned.

The Trojans advance in a single mass, and Hector goes at the front like a rock that a torrent loosens from the heights and that stops only when it reaches the plain. He threatens to break through the camp and the ships down to the sea, but when he runs into the close ranks, he halts and is driven back with blows. He shouts to the Trojans, Lycians, and Dardanians to stand firm, because the Achaeans will not hold him for long, however tightly they cluster like a tower, if indeed the best of the gods, the husband of Hera, has sent him forward. Deiphobus advances covered by his shield; Meriones strikes him, but the spear breaks before it pierces the bull-hide, and Deiphobus holds his shield away from himself, fearing the spear, while Meriones falls back, furious at having lost both the victory and his spear, and goes to fetch another from the tent. Teucer kills Imbrius, son of Mentor, who lived in Pedaeum, married to Medesicaste, an illegitimate daughter of Priam, whom Priam esteemed as he did his own sons. Hector hurls his spear at Teucer, who evades it, and it strikes Amphimachus, who was going into combat; Hector tries to take his helmet, but Ajax repels him with a blow to the boss of his shield, and the Greeks drag away the two bodies, the Athenians Stichius and Menestheus carrying Amphimachus. The two Ajaxes carry off Imbrius like two lions that snatch a goat from the dogs, and the son of Oileus, enraged over Amphimachus, cuts off the dead man's head and sends it rolling through the crowd until it lands at the feet of Hector. Poseidon, enraged at the death of his grandson, goes through the tents and the ships to rouse the Danaans and prepare disasters for the Trojans.

In the form of Thoas, the Aetolian, he meets Idomeneus, who was returning after leaving a companion wounded in the care of the physicians and still wanted to fight, and he taunts him: where have the threats the Achaeans made against the Trojans gone? Idomeneus replies that no one is to blame, everyone knows how to fight, no one yields to fear or laziness: it must be pleasing to Zeus that the Achaeans perish without a name, far from Argos. He asks Thoas, who has always been steadfast, to keep urging the others on. Poseidon answers with a curse on anyone who willingly withdraws from the fight today, orders him to fetch his arms, and says that together, even two of them, they can be of use: courage combined is worth even that of weaker men, and the two of them know how to fight even against good men. Idomeneus arms himself and goes out shining like the lightning that Zeus hurls from Olympus. Meriones, his squire, meets him near the tent, coming to fetch another spear, because he broke his own on the shield of Deiphobus. Idomeneus offers him twenty-one spears, Trojan, taken from the dead and hung in the tent, because he does not fight at a distance from the enemy; Meriones says that he too has many spoils, but not within reach, and that he has not forgotten his courage: he stands among the first when the fighting rises, and other Achaeans may not see him, but Idomeneus knows it. Idomeneus replies that he knows his worth and does not need to say it, and speaks of the ambush, in which the coward and the brave are told apart: the coward changes color and cannot keep still, his heart pounding and his teeth chattering, while the brave man does not change color nor fear much, and wants at once to mix into the combat. In such a trial no one would blame Meriones's strength and hands; and if he were wounded, the blow would strike him in the chest or the belly, on the way to the front, not in the back. Idomeneus ends: enough speaking like children, let Meriones take a spear from the tent.

Idomeneus and Meriones go into combat like Ares and his son Phobos, Terror. Meriones asks where they will enter, on the right, the center, or the left; Idomeneus replies that at the center of the ships stand the Ajaxes and Teucer, the best archer, and that they are enough to hold back Hector, however strong he is: it will be hard for him, however eager he is to fight, to overcome the force and the invincible hands of those men and set the ships on fire, unless the son of Cronus himself hurls a burning torch upon them. The great Ajax, son of Telamon, Idomeneus says, would not yield to any mortal man who eats the grain of Demeter and can be wounded by bronze and great stones, nor to Achilles, breaker of men, in a stand-up fight; only in a race can one not compete with Achilles. He proposes that the two of them go by the left side of the army, to see at once whether they will give glory to someone or to them. When the Achaeans see them, with Idomeneus turned into a flame of valor, all gather around him, and the fighting joins close by the sterns of the ships, like the dust that the wind raises on the roads.

The narrator then says that the two sons of Cronus, each with his own design, prepare pains for the heroes. Zeus wants victory for the Trojans and for Hector, to give glory to Achilles of the swift feet, but by no means wants the Achaean people to perish before Ilion; he wants to honor Thetis and her son. Poseidon, who pities the defeated Achaeans and is indignant with Zeus, rouses them in secret, in the form of a man, because the two brothers share the same origin, but Zeus was born first and knew more. The two gods stretch over both sides the knot of an even fight, which neither breaks nor unties, and which has left the knees of many limp.

Idomeneus, already gray-haired, rouses the Danaans and leaps upon the Trojans, spreading terror: he kills Otryoneus, who had come from Cabesus shortly before, drawn by the fame of the war. Otryoneus had asked for Cassandra in marriage, the most beautiful of Priam's daughters, without a dowry, and had promised a great deed, to drive the Achaeans from Troy against their will; Priam had agreed, and he fought trusting in the promise. Idomeneus strikes him as he marches with high steps, and his bronze breastplate does not save him. He mocks him: he praises him above all mortals, if he fulfills what he promised Priam, and offers that he and the Greeks will give him the most beautiful of Agamemnon's daughters, brought from Argos, if he helps them take Ilion; he invites him to go to the ships to arrange the marriage, since they are no poor suitors. And he drags him by the foot. Asius comes to the rescue, on foot in front of the horses, with his charioteer behind him breathing on his shoulders; eager to strike Idomeneus, he is struck first in the throat, under the chin, and falls like an oak or a pine cut down by carpenters to serve as ship's timber. The charioteer, seized with terror, does not dare turn the horses, and Antilochus runs him through the belly and leads the horses off to the Achaean ranks.

Deiphobus, nearer, grieving for Asius, throws at Idomeneus, who covers himself with his shield and lets the spear pass over him; Deiphobus's spear strikes Hypsenor, shepherd of men, in the liver, and loosens his knees. Deiphobus boasts aloud: Asius does not lie unavenged and will rejoice in Hades, because Deiphobus has given him a companion. The taunt grieves the Argives and touches Antilochus in particular, who, distressed as he is, does not forget his comrade: he runs and covers him with his shield, while two friends carry him groaning to the ships. Idomeneus does not relax his vigor and wants either to cover a Trojan in the dark of night or to fall defending the Achaeans. He kills Alcathous, son-in-law of Anchises, married to his eldest daughter, Hippodameia, whom her father and mother loved more than all the girls of her age; Poseidon bewitched Alcathous's eyes and bound his limbs, so that he could neither flee nor dodge, and he stood still like a pillar or a tree while Idomeneus pierced his chest. Idomeneus boasts: Deiphobus, is three dead men for one worth it, since you boast so? Come yourself to me, to see what son of Zeus I am, a descendant of Minos and Deucalion, and that I came to bring disaster on you, on your father, and on the other Trojans. Deiphobus hesitates, not knowing whether to call a companion or face him alone, and decides to go to Aeneas.

He finds Aeneas standing, the last of the crowd, resentful toward Priam, who, though Aeneas is valiant among men, gives him no honor. Deiphobus tells him that now he must defend his brother-in-law, if he has any bond of kinship, and that Alcathous raised him at home when he was small and was killed by Idomeneus; this stirs Aeneas's spirit, and he goes against Idomeneus. Idomeneus is not frightened like a child: he stands like a boar on the mountain, confident in his strength, who waits for a crowd of men in a deserted place, with his back bristling and his eyes like fire, whetting his tusks. He calls his companions, Ascalaphus, Aphareus, Deipyrus, Meriones, and Antilochus, and says that he fears Aeneas terribly, young and strong: if they were of the same age, soon one of the two would win the great victory. They all gather shoulder to shoulder, with their shields tilted. Aeneas calls his own men, Deiphobus, Paris, and Agenor, and the peoples follow him like sheep behind the ram, with a shepherd's joy. Around the body of Alcathous the spears clash. Aeneas throws first, but Idomeneus dodges, and the spear sticks in the earth, quivering; Idomeneus strikes Oenomaus in the belly and tears it open, and the man falls, biting the dirt. Idomeneus pulls out his spear but cannot strip the dead man of his fine armor, because the missiles press upon him, and his feet no longer have the firmness to charge or to dodge; he defends himself on his feet, but can no longer retreat quickly. As he withdraws slowly, Deiphobus throws, still full of rancor, but misses and strikes Ascalaphus, son of Ares, in the shoulder.

Ares does not yet know of his fallen son: he is on the peak of Olympus, under golden clouds, held back by the designs of Zeus, along with the other immortals to whom combat has been forbidden. Around Ascalaphus, Deiphobus tears off his helmet, Meriones wounds the arm of Deiphobus, and the helmet falls with a clang; Meriones withdraws, and Polites leads the wounded Deiphobus, groaning, to the chariot and to the city, with blood streaming from his arm. The others keep fighting. Aeneas kills Aphareus, who had turned to flee; Antilochus kills Toon, cutting the vein along his back, and strips him, but the Trojans surround him and cannot wound his skin, because Poseidon protects the son of Nestor. Adamas, son of Asius, strikes Antilochus's shield, and Poseidon blunts the point: half of the spear stays in the shield like a burnt stake, and the other half falls to the ground. Adamas retreats to his companions, avoiding death, but Meriones pursues him and runs him through between the navel and the groin, where war is most painful for mortals; he thrashes on the spear like an ox that herdsmen bind by force, for a little while, until Meriones pulls the spear out of him and darkness covers his eyes.

Elsewhere, Helenus wounds Deipyrus on the temple with a Thracian sword and strips off his helmet, which rolls on the ground and is picked up by an Achaean; dark night covers Deipyrus's eyes. Grief seizes Menelaus, who goes against Helenus brandishing his sharp spear, while Helenus draws his bow; they strike at the same moment: Helenus's arrow hits Menelaus's breastplate but glances off, like beans or chickpeas flung from a shovel by the wind, and Menelaus's spear pierces the hand of Helenus that holds the bow. Helenus withdraws, his hand hanging and his ash spear dragging; Agenor pulls the spear out and binds the hand with sling wool. Pisander advances against Menelaus, led by bad luck, only to be defeated by him. Menelaus's spear turns aside, and Pisander's spear strikes the shield and breaks at the shaft; he rejoices, expecting victory, but Menelaus draws his sword with silver studs and leaps, and Pisander takes from beneath his shield a fine bronze axe with an olive-wood haft. The blows cross: Pisander's strikes the plume of Menelaus's helmet, Menelaus's strikes his forehead, above the nose; the bones crack, and Pisander's eyes fall bleeding at his feet, in the dust. Menelaus plants his foot on Pisander's chest, strips him, and boasts: thus you will leave the ships of the Danaans, proud Trojans, insatiable for the war cry, who have already heaped insult and shame on me, wicked dogs, not fearing the wrath of Zeus, protector of guests, who one day will destroy your high city; for you took my lawful wife and much wealth, though she had welcomed you, and now you want to hurl fire upon the ships and kill the Achaean heroes. And he calls on Zeus: there is plenty of everything, except of the Trojans in war.

Harpalion, son of King Pylaemenes, strikes Menelaus's shield without piercing it and withdraws among his companions, looking around so that no one wounds him; Meriones shoots an arrow into his right buttock, which passes through the bladder beneath the bone, and he dies in the arms of his companions, stretched out like a worm on the earth; the Paphlagonians carry him to Ilion, his father following and weeping, with no recompense for his dead son. Paris, angry because Harpalion had been his guest among the Paphlagonians, shoots an arrow at Eucenor, son of the seer Polyidus, a rich and good man who lived in Corinth. Polyidus had often warned Eucenor that he would die of a painful sickness at home, or be struck down by the Trojans beside the Achaean ships; to avoid the heavy fine of the Achaeans and the hateful disease, Eucenor boarded the ship knowing his fate. Paris strikes him under the jaw, near the ear, and the life leaves his body, and hateful darkness takes him.

Meanwhile, Hector does not know that on the left wing of the ships his men are being cut down by the Argives, and the Achaeans nearly have the victory already, because Poseidon urges them on and fights at their side. Hector remains where he first leaped over the wall and the gates, breaking the ranks of the Danaan shield-bearers, where the ships of Ajax and Protesilaus stand on the shore, and where the wall is lowest and the fighting hardest for men and horses. There the Boeotians, Ionians, Locrians, Phthians, and Epeians hold him back, unable to push that man, who is like a flame, away from their ships; and the chosen Athenians are commanded by Menestheus. The son of Oileus does not move a step from the son of Telamon, like two dark oxen pulling a plow across the field, sweat running down to the base of their horns, separated only by the yoke. The son of Telamon has many companions who take his shield when weariness and sweat reach his knees; the Locrians of the son of Oileus do not follow him, because they have no helmets or shields, but came to Ilion trusting in bows and slings, and from behind the front line they shoot without pause, so that the Trojans no longer remember their ardor, confused by the arrows.

The Trojans would have retreated shamefully from the ships and the tents toward Ilion if Polydamas had not spoken to Hector, standing beside him: he calls him impossible to advise, because a god gave him the work of war and he wants to know more than the others in council, but he cannot have everything; one receives war, another dance, another the lyre and song, and to another Zeus puts a good understanding in the chest, from which many benefit, which has saved many, and which he himself knows best. He says what seems best to him: the ring of war burns Hector on every side; the Trojans, after crossing the wall, are either kept away from their weapons or fight in smaller numbers, scattered among the ships. Let Hector withdraw and call all the best men, so that they may decide whether to fall upon the ships, if the god grants the victory, or to return unharmed. He fears that the Achaeans will exact yesterday's debt, for beside the ships remains a man insatiable for war, whom he thinks will not stay altogether out of the fight. Hector likes the counsel, leaps from the chariot in arms, and tells him to stay there to hold back the best men, while he goes to the point of combat and returns soon, once he has given his orders. He sets off like a snow-covered mountain, shouting, through the Trojans and their allies, and all rush toward Polydamas at the sound of Hector's voice. Hector looks for Deiphobus, Helenus, Adamas, and Asius among the foremost and finds them neither unhurt nor out of danger: some lie beside the sterns of the Achaean ships, killed by Argive hands, others are inside the wall, wounded and battered.

He finds Paris on the left of the tearful battle, encouraging his companions, and insults him: Dyspar, handsome, mad for women, deceiver, where are Deiphobus, Helenus, Adamas, Asius, and Otryoneus? Now high Ilion is utterly lost, and ruin is certain for you. Paris replies that Hector accuses the innocent: at another time Hector will show himself more eager for war, for his mother did not bear him without courage; since Hector roused the fighting by the ships, they have fought the Danaans without pause, and the companions Hector is looking for have fallen. Only Deiphobus and Helenus have come out, their hands wounded by long spears, and Zeus has turned death away from them. Let Hector lead wherever his heart and spirit command, and the two will follow him without lacking vigor, as far as their strength allows; and he adds that no one fights beyond his own power, however eager he may be. Persuaded, Hector goes with him to where the fighting and the tumult are greatest, around Cebriones, Polydamas, Phalces, Orthaeus, Polyphetes, Palmys, Ascanius, and Morys, son of Hippotion, who had come from fertile Ascania the morning before, and whom Zeus now makes fight.

The Trojans advance en masse, like waves that rise from the sea under the wind, one behind another, under the command of Hector, equal to baneful Ares, with a shield covered in hide and bronze and a helmet gleaming at his temples. He tests the phalanxes step by step, to see whether they will give way as he advances with his shield before him, but he does not shake the spirit of the Achaeans. Ajax is the first to challenge him, striding forward: come closer, why do you frighten the Argives in vain? They are not ignorant of war; it was the scourge of Zeus that subdued them. Hector's heart hopes to destroy the ships, but their hands are ready to defend them, and sooner will his own city be taken and sacked by them. Soon will come the moment when Hector, in flight, will beg Zeus and the other immortals for horses swifter than falcons to carry him to the city, raising dust. When Ajax finishes speaking, a high-flying eagle flies to the right, and the Achaeans shout, cheered by the omen. Hector replies by calling him a babbler and a braggart, says he wishes to be son of Zeus and Hera, honored like Apollo and Athena, as surely as this day brings disaster to the Argives, and threatens: if Ajax resists his long spear, it will tear his tender skin, and he will sate the dogs and birds of the Trojans with fat and flesh, fallen beside the ships of the Achaeans. Saying this, he advances, the Trojans follow him with a clamor, and the Argives answer from the other side, not forgetting their valor, awaiting the best of the Trojans; the clamor of both sides rises to the ether and to the brightness of Zeus.