tristis ad haec Pylius: ‘quid me meminisse malorum
cogis et obductos annis rescindere luctus
inque tuum genitorem odium offensasque fateri?
ille quidem maiora fide, di! gessit et orbem 545
inplevit meritis, quod mallem posse negare;
sed neque Deiphobum nec Pulydamanta nec ipsum
Hectora laudamus: quis enim laudaverit hostem?
ille tuus genitor Messenia moenia quondam
stravit et inmeritas urbes Elinque Pylonque 550
diruit inque meos ferrum flammamque penatis
inpulit, utque alios taceam, quos ille peremit,
bis sex Nelidae fuimus, conspecta iuventus,
bis sex Herculeis ceciderunt me minus uno
viribus; atque alios vinci potuisse ferendum est: 555
mira Periclymeni mors est, cui posse figuras
sumere, quas vellet, rursusque reponere sumptas
Neptunus dederat, Nelei sanguinis auctor.
hic ubi nequiquam est formas variatus in omnes,
vertitur in faciem volucris, quae fulmina curvis 560
ferre solet pedibus divum gratissima regi;
viribus usus avis pennis rostroque redunco
hamatisque viri laniaverat unguibus ora.
tendit in hanc nimium certos Tirynthius arcus
atque inter nubes sublimia membra ferentem 565
pendentemque ferit, lateri qua iungitur ala;
nec grave vulnus erat, sed rupti vulnere nervi
deficiunt motumque negant viresque volandi.
decidit in terram, non concipientibus auras
infirmis pennis, et qua levis haeserat alae 570
corporis adflicti pressa est gravitate sagitta
perque latus summum iugulo est exacta sinistro.
nunc videor debere tui praeconia rebus
Herculis, o Rhodiae ductor pulcherrime classis?
nec tamen ulterius, quam fortia facta silendo 575
ulciscor fratres: solida est mihi gratia tecum.’
Haec postquam dulci Neleius edidit ore,
a sermone senis repetito munere Bacchi
surrexere toris: nox est data cetera somno.
At deus, aequoreas qui cuspide temperat undas, 580
in volucrem corpus nati Phaethontida versum
mente dolet patria saevumque perosus Achillem
exercet memores plus quam civiliter iras.
iamque fere tracto duo per quinquennia bello
talibus intonsum conpellat Sminthea dictis: 585
‘o mihi de fratris longe gratissime natis,
inrita qui mecum posuisti moenia Troiae,
ecquid, ubi has iamiam casuras adspicis arces,
ingemis? aut ecquid tot defendentia muros
milia caesa doles? ecquid, ne persequar omnes, 590
Hectoris umbra subit circum sua Pergama tracti?
cum tamen ille ferox belloque cruentior ipso
vivit adhuc, operis nostri populator, Achilles.
det mihi se: faxo, triplici quid cuspide possim,
sentiat; at quoniam concurrere comminus hosti 595
non datur, occulta necopinum perde sagitta!’
adnuit atque animo pariter patruique suoque
Delius indulgens nebula velatus in agmen
pervenit Iliacum mediaque in caede virorum
rara per ignotos spargentem cernit Achivos 600
tela Parin fassusque deum, ‘quid spicula perdis
sanguine plebis?’ ait. ‘siqua est tibi cura tuorum,
vertere in Aeaciden caesosque ulciscere fratres!’
dixit et ostendens sternentem Troica ferro
corpora Peliden, arcus obvertit in illum 605
certaque letifera derexit spicula dextra.
quod Priamus gaudere senex post Hectora posset,
hoc fuit; ille igitur tantorum victor, Achille,
victus es a timido Graiae raptore maritae!
at si femineo fuerat tibi Marte cadendum, 610
Thermodontiaca malles cecidisse bipenni.
Iam timor ille Phrygum, decus et tutela Pelasgi
nominis, Aeacides, caput insuperabile bello,
arserat: armarat deus idem idemque cremarat;
iam cinis est, et de tam magno restat Achille 615
nescio quid parvum, quod non bene conpleat urnam,
at vivit totum quae gloria conpleat orbem.
haec illi mensura viro respondet, et hac est
par sibi Pelides nec inania Tartara sentit.
ipse etiam, ut, cuius fuerit, cognoscere posses, 620
bella movet clipeus, deque armis arma feruntur.
non ea Tydides, non audet Oileos Aiax,
non minor Atrides, non bello maior et aevo
poscere, non alii: solis Telamone creatis
Laertaque fuit tantae fiducia laudis. 625
a se Tantalides onus invidiamque removit
Argolicosque duces mediis considere castris
iussit et arbitrium litis traiecit in omnes.
And sternly the Pylian answered him: “Why do you force me to remember wrongs, to reopen a grief that was buried by the lapse of years, and to rehearse the injuries that make me hate your father? He has done deeds beyond belief, Heaven knows! and filled the earth with well-earned praise, which I would gladly deny him if I could. But neither Deïphobus nor Polydamas nor even Hector do we praise; for who cares to praise his enemy? That sire of yours once laid low Messene’s walls, brought undeserved destruction upon Elis and Pylos, and devastated my own home with fire and sword. To say nothing of the others whom he slew, there were twelve of us sons of Neleus, a noble band of youths; and all twelve, save me alone, fell by Hercules’ might. That others could be conquered must be borne; but strange was the death of Periclymenus; for to him Neptune, father of Neleus, had given power to assume any form he pleased and to put it off again at will. When now he had vainly changed to each of his forms in turn, he took the form of the bird which carries the thunderbolts in his hooked talons, a bird most dear to the king of the gods. With all his might of wings, of curved beak and hooked claws, he had torn the hero’s face. Then the Tirynthian aimed his too unerring bow at him as he bore his body high into the clouds and hung poised there, and smote him where wing joins side. The wound was not severe; but the sinews severed by the wound failed of their office and refused motion and power of flight. Down to the earth he fell, his weakened wings no longer catching the air; and the arrow, where it had lightly pierced the wing, pressed by the weight of the body when it reached the ground, was driven clear through the upper breast from the left side into the throat. And now, O fairest leader of the Rhodian fleet, what cause have I, think you, to sing the praises of your Hercules? Yet for my brothers I seek no other vengeance than to ignore his mighty deeds. ’Twixt me and you there is unbroken amity.”
When Nestor with sweet speech had told this tale, at the conclusion of the old man’s words the wine-cup went around once more and they rose from the couches. The remainder of the night was given to sleep.
But the god who rules the waters of the sea with his trident was still filled with a father’s grief for his son whose body he had changed into the bird1 of Phaethon. And, hating the murderous Achilles, he indulged his unforgetting wrath excessively. And now for nigh ten years the war had been prolonged, when he thus addressed Sminthean Apollo of the unshorn locks: “O thou, by far the best beloved of my brother’s sons, thou who with me (though vainly) didst build the walls of Troy, dost thou not groan at sight of these battlements so soon to fall? Dost thou not grieve that so many thousands have been slain in defending these walls? Not to name them all, does not Hector’s image come before thee, dragged around his own Pergama? But Achilles, fierce and more cruel than war itself, still lives, the destroyer of our handiwork. Let him but come within my reach. I’ll make him feel what I can do with my three-forked spear. But since it is not granted me to meet my enemy face to face, do thou bring him to sudden death by thy unseen arrow!” The Delian nodded assent and, indulging equally his own and his uncle’s desire, wrapped in a cloud came to the Trojan lines. There midst the bloody strife of heroes he saw Paris taking infrequent shots at the nameless crowd. Revealing his divinity, he said: “Why do you waste your arrows in killing common folk? If you would serve your people, aim at Aeacides and avenge your slaughtered brothers!” He spoke and, pointing where Pelides was working havoc on the Trojans with his spear, he turned the bow in his direction and guided the well-aimed shaft with his death-dealing hand. This was the first cause for joy which old Priam had since Hector’s death. So then, Achilles, thou conqueror of the mightiest, thou art thyself o’ercome by the cowardly ravisher of a Grecian’s wife! But if thou hadst been fated to fall by a woman’s battle-stroke, how gladly wouldst thou have fallen by the Amazon’s double axe!
And now that terror of the Phrygians, that ornament and bulwark of the Pelasgian name, Aeacides, the invincible captain of the war, was burned. One and the same god armed him and consumed him too. Now he is but dust; and of Achilles, once so great, there remains a pitiful handful, hardly enough to fill an urn. But his glory lives, enough to fill the whole round world. This is the true measure of the man; and in this the son of Peleus is still his real self, and does not know empty Tartara. His very shield, that you might know to whom it once belonged, still wages war, and for his arms arms are taken up. Neither Tydides nor Ajax, Oileus’ son, dares to claim them, nor the lesser2 Atrides, nor the greater3 in prowess and in age, nor other chieftains. Only the son4 of Telamon and Laërtes’ son5 were bold enough to claim so great a prize. To escape the hateful burden of a choice between them, Tantalides6 bade the Grecian captains assemble in the midst of the camp, and he referred to all the decision of the strife.
The swan. See Index s.v. “Phaëthon.”
Menelaüs.
Agamemnon.
Ajax.
Ulysses.
Agamemnon.