How in the Funeral Games of Achilles heroes contended.
Nor did the hapless Trojans leave unwept The warrior-king Hippolochus' hero-son, But laid, in front of the Dardanian gate, Upon the pyre that captain war-renowned.
But him Apollo's self caught swiftly up Out of the blazing fire, and to the winds Gave him, to bear away to Lycia-land;
And fast and far they bare him, 'neath the glens Of high Telandrus, to a lovely glade;
And for a monument above his grave Upheaved a granite rock. The Nymphs therefrom Made gush the hallowed water of a stream For ever flowing, which the tribes of men Still call fair-fleeting Glaucus. This the gods Wrought for an honour to the Lycian king.
But for Achilles still the Argives mourned Beside the swift ships: heart-sick were they all With dolorous pain and grief. Each yearned for him As for a son; no eye in that wide host Was tearless. But the Trojans with great joy Exulted, seeing their sorrow from afar, And the great fire that spake their foe consumed.
And thus a vaunting voice amidst them cried:
"Now hath Cronion from his heaven vouchsafed A joy past hope unto our longing eyes, To see Achilles fallen before Troy.
Now he is smitten down, the glorious hosts Of Troy, I trow, shall win a breathing-space From blood of death and from the murderous fray.
Ever his heart devised the Trojans' bane;
In his hands maddened aye the spear of doom With gore besprent, and none of us that faced Him in the fight beheld another dawn.
But now, I wot, Achaea's valorous sons Shall flee unto their galleys shapely-prowed, Since slain Achilles lies. Ah that the might Of Hector still were here, that he might slay The Argives one and all amidst their tents!"
So in unbridled joy a Trojan cried;
But one more wise and prudent answered him:
"Thou deemest that yon murderous Danaan host Will straightway get them to the ships, to flee Over the misty sea. Nay, still their lust Is hot for fight: us will they nowise fear, Still are there left strong battle-eager men, As Aias, as Tydeides, Atreus' sons:
Though dead Achilles be, I still fear these.
Oh that Apollo Silverbow would end them!
Then in that day were given to our prayers A breathing-space from war and ghastly death."
In heaven was dole among the Immortal Ones, Even all that helped the stalwart Danaans' cause.
In clouds like mountains piled they veiled their heads For grief of soul. But glad those others were Who fain would speed Troy to a happy goal.
Then unto Cronos' Son great Hera spake:
"Zeus, Lightning-father, wherefore helpest thou Troy, all forgetful of the fair-haired bride Whom once to Peleus thou didst give to wife Midst Pelion's glens? Thyself didst bring to pass Those spousals of a Goddess: on that day All we Immortals feasted there, and gave Gifts passing-fair. All this dost thou forget, And hast devised for Hellas heaviest woe."
So spake she; but Zeus answered not a word;
For pondering there he sat with burdened breast, Thinking how soon the Argives should destroy The city of Priam, thinking how himself Would visit on the victors ruin dread In war and on the great sea thunder-voiced.
Such thoughts were his, ere long to be fulfilled.
Now sank the sun to Ocean's fathomless flood:
O'er the dim land the infinite darkness stole, Wherein men gain a little rest from toil.
Then by the ships, despite their sorrow, supped The Argives, for ye cannot thrust aside Hunger's importunate craving, when it comes Upon the breast, but straightway heavy and faint Lithe limbs become; nor is there remedy Until one satisfy this clamorous guest Therefore these ate the meat of eventide In grief for Achilles' hard necessity Constrained them all. And, when they had broken bread, Sweet sleep came on them, loosening from their frames Care's heavy chain, and quickening strength anew But when the starry Bears had eastward turned Their heads, expectant of the uprushing light Of Helios, and when woke the Queen of Dawn, Then rose from sleep the stalwart Argive men Purposing for the Trojans death and doom.
Stirred were they like the roughly-ridging sea Icarian, or as sudden-rippling corn In harvest field, what time the rushing wings Of the cloud-gathering West sweep over it;
So upon Hellespont's strand the folk were stirred.
And to those eager hearts cried Tydeus' son:
"If we be battle-biders, friends, indeed, More fiercely fight we now the hated foe, Lest they take heart because Achilles lives No longer. Come, with armour, car, and steed Let us beset them. Glory waits our toil?"
But battle-eager Aias answering spake "Brave be thy words, and nowise idle talk, Kindling the dauntless Argive men, whose hearts Before were battle-eager, to the fight Against the Trojan men, O Tydeus' son.
But we must needs abide amidst the ships Till Goddess Thetis come forth of the sea;
For that her heart is purposed to set here Fair athlete-prizes for the funeral-games.
This yesterday she told me, ere she plunged Into sea-depths, yea, spake to me apart From other Danaans; and, I trow, by this Her haste hath brought her nigh. Yon Trojan men, Though Peleus' son hath died, shall have small heart For battle, while myself am yet alive, And thou, and noble Atreus' son, the king."
So spake the mighty son of Telamon, But knew not that a dark and bitter doom For him should follow hard upon those games By Fate's contrivance. Answered Tydeus' son "O friend, if Thetis comes indeed this day With goodly gifts for her son's funeral-games, Then bide we by the ships, and keep we here All others. Meet it is to do the will Of the Immortals: yea, to Achilles too, Though the Immortals willed it not, ourselves Must render honour grateful to the dead."
So spake the battle-eager Tydeus' son.
And lo, the Bride of Peleus gliding came Forth of the sea, like the still breath of dawn, And suddenly was with the Argive throng Where eager-faced they waited, some, that looked Soon to contend in that great athlete-strife, And some, to joy in seeing the mighty strive.
