Mars quoque ob hoc capere arma solet! removebitur huius
tegminis officium: tamen indestrictus abibo;
est aliquid non esse satum Nereide, sed qui
Nereaque et natas et totum temperat aequor.’
dixit et haesurum clipei curvamine telum 95
misit in Aeaciden, quod et aes et proxima rupit
terga novena boum, decimo tamen orbe moratum est.
excutit hoc heros rursusque trementia forti
tela manu torsit: rursus sine vulnere corpus
sincerumque fuit; nec tertia cuspis apertum 100
et se praebentem valuit destringere Cycnum.
haut secus exarsit, quam circo taurus aperto,
cum sua terribili petit inritamina cornu,
poeniceas vestes, elusaque vulnera sentit;
num tamen exciderit ferrum considerat hastae: 105
haerebat ligno. ‘manus est mea debilis ergo,
quasque’ ait ‘ante habuit vires, effudit in uno?
nam certe valuit, vel cum Lyrnesia primus
moenia deieci, vel cum Tenedonque suoque
Eetioneas inplevi sanguine Thebas, 110
vel cum purpureus populari caede Caicus
fluxit, opusque meae bis sensit Telephus hastae.
hic quoque tot caesis, quorum per litus acervos
et feci et video, valuit mea dextra valetque.’
dixit et, ante actis veluti male crederet, hastam 115
misit in adversum Lycia de plebe Menoeten
loricamque simul subiectaque pectora rupit.
quo plangente gravem moribundo vertice terram
extrahit illud idem calido de vulnere telum
atque ait: ‘haec manus est, haec, qua modo vicimus, hasta: 120
utar in hoc isdem; sit in hoc, precor, exitus idem!’
sic fatus Cycnum repetit, nec fraxinus errat
inque umero sonuit non evitata sinistro,
inde velut muro solidaque a caute repulsa est;
qua tamen ictus erat, signatum sanguine Cycnum 125
viderat et frustra fuerat gavisus Achilles:
vulnus erat nullum, sanguis fuit ille Menoetae!
tum vero praeceps curru fremebundus ab alto
desilit et nitido securum comminus hostem
ense petens parmam gladio galeamque cavari 130
cernit, at in duro laedi quoque corpore ferrum.
haut tulit ulterius clipeoque adversa reducto
ter quater ora viri, capulo et cava tempora pulsat
cedentique sequens instat turbatque ruitque
attonitoque negat requiem: pavor occupat illum, 135
ante oculosque natant tenebrae retroque ferenti
aversos passus medio lapis obstitit arvo;
quem super inpulsum resupino corpore Cycnum
vi multa vertit terraeque adflixit Achilles.
tum clipeo genibusque premens praecordia duris 140
vincla trahit galeae, quae presso subdita mento
elidunt fauces et respiramen iterque
eripiunt animae. victum spoliare parabat:
arma relicta videt; corpus deus aequoris albam
contulit in volucrem, cuius modo nomen habebat. 145
Hic labor, haec requiem multorum pugna dierum
attulit et positis pars utraque substitit armis.
dumque vigil Phrygios servat custodia muros,
et vigil Argolicas servat custodia fossas,
festa dies aderat, qua Cycni victor Achilles 150
Pallada mactatae placabat sanguine vaccae;
cuius ut inposuit prosecta calentibus aris,
et dis acceptus penetravit in aethera nidor,
sacra tulere suam, pars est data cetera mensis.
discubuere toris proceres et corpora tosta 155
carne replent vinoque levant curasque sitimque.
non illos citharae, non illos carmina vocum
longave multifori delectat tibia buxi,
sed noctem sermone trahunt, virtusque loquendi
materia est: pugnas referunt hostisque suasque, 160
inque vices adita atque exhausta pericula saepe
commemorare iuvat; quid enim loqueretur Achilles,
aut quid apud magnum potius loquerentur Achillem?
proxima praecipue domito victoria Cycno
in sermone fuit: visum mirabile cunctis, 165
quod iuveni corpus nullo penetrabile telo
invictumque a vulnere erat ferrumque terebat.
hoc ipse Aeacides, hoc mirabantur Achivi,
cum sic Nestor ait: ‘vestro fuit unicus aevo
contemptor ferri nulloque forabilis ictu 170
Cycnus. at ipse olim patientem vulnera mille
corpore non laeso Perrhaebum Caenea vidi,
Caenea Perrhaebum, qui factis inclitus Othryn
incoluit, quoque id mirum magis esset in illo,
femina natus erat.’ monstri novitate moventur 175
quisquis adest, narretque rogant: quos inter Achilles:
‘dic age! nam cunctis eadem est audire voluntas,
o facunde senex, aevi prudentia nostri,
quis fuerit Caeneus, cur in contraria versus,
qua tibi militia, cuius certamine pugnae 180
cognitus, a quo sit victus, si victus ab ullo est.’
“Mars, too, for this cause, wears his armour. Remove the protection of this covering: still shall I escape unharmed. It is something to be the son, not of Nereus’ daughter, but of him who rules both Nereus and his daughters and the whole sea besides.” He spoke and hurled against Aeacides his spear, destined only to stick in the curving shield. Through brass and through nine layers of bull’s hide it tore its way, but stopped upon the tenth. Shaking the weapon off, the hero again hurled a quivering spear with his strong hand. Again his foeman’s body was unwounded and unharmed; nor did a third spear avail to injure Cycnus, though his offered his body quite unprotected. Achilles raged at this just like a bull in the broad arena when with his deadly horns he rushes on the scarlet cloak, the object of his wrath, and finds it ever eluding his fierce attack. He examined the spear to see if the iron point had not been dislodged. It was still on the wooden shaft. “Is my hand then so weak,” he said, “and has the strength, which it once had, ebbed away in this case alone? For surely it had strength enough when I as leader of the attack overthrew Lyrnesus’ walls, or when I caused Tenedos and Thebes, the city of Eetion, to flow with their own blood, when the Caïcus ran red with the slaughter of its neighbouring tribes, and when Telephus twice felt the strength of my spear. On this field also, with so many slain, heaps of whose corpses upon the shore I have both made and see, my right hand has been mighty and still is mighty.” He spoke and, as if he distrusted his former prowess, he hurled the spear full at Menoetes, one of the Lycian commons, and smote clean through his breastplate and his breast beneath. As his dying victim fell clanging down head first upon the solid earth, Achilles plucked out the spear from the hot wound and cried: “This is the hand, this the spear with which I have just conquered. I likewise shall use it on this foeman, and may the outcome be the same for him, I pray.” So saying, he hurled again at Cycnus, and the ashen spear went straight and struck, unshunned, with a thud upon the left shoulder, whence it rebounded as from a wall or from a solid cliff. Yet where the spear struck, Achilles saw Cycnus marked with blood, and rejoiced, but vainly: there was no wound; it was Menoetes’ blood! Then truly in headlong rage he leaped down from his lofty chariot and, seeking his invulnerable foe in close conflict with his gleaming sword, he saw both shield and helmet pierced through, but on the unyielding body his sword was even blunted. The hero could brook no more: with drawn-back shield and sword-hilt again and again he beat upon the face and hollow temples of his foe. As one gives way the other presses on, buffets and rushes him, gives him no pause to recover from the shock. Fear gets hold on Cycnus; dark shadows float before his eyes, and as he steps backward a stone lying on the plain blocks his way. As he lies with bent body pressed back upon this, Achilles whirls him with mighty force and dashes him to the earth. Then, pressing with buckler and hard knees upon his breast, he unlaces his helmet-thongs. With these applied beneath his chin he chokes his throat and cuts off the passage of his breath. He prepares to strip his conquered foe: he sees the armour empty; for the god has changed the body into the white bird whose name he lately bore.
This struggle, this battle, brought a truce of many days, and each side laid its weapons down and rested. And while a watchful guard was patrolling the Phrygian walls and a watchful guard patrolled the trenches of the Greeks, there came a festal day when Cycnus’ conqueror, Achilles, was sacrificing to Pallas with blood of a slain heifer. When now the entrails had been placed upon the blazing altars and the odour which gods love had ascended to the skies, the holy beings received their share and the rest was set upon the tables. The chiefs reclined upon the couches and ate their fill of the roasted flesh while they relieved their cares and quenched their thirst with wine. Nor were they entertained by sound of cithern, nor by the voice of song, nor by the long flute of boxwood pierced with many holes; but they drew out the night in talk, and valour was the theme of their conversation. Of battles was their talk, the enemy’s and their own, and ’twas joy to tell over and over again in turn the perils they had encountered and endured. For of what else should Achilles speak, or of what else should others speak in great Achilles’ presence? Especially did the talk turn on Achilles’ last victory and Cycnus’ overthrow. It seemed a marvel to them all that a youth should have a body which no spear could penetrate, invulnerable, which blunted the sword’s edge. Aeacides himself and the Greeks were wondering at this, when Nestor said: “In this your generation there has been one only, Cycnus, who could scorn the sword, whom no stroke could pierce; but I myself long ago saw one who could bear a thousand strokes with body unharmed, Thessalian Caeneus: Caeneus of Thessaly, I say, who once dwelt on Mount Othrys, famed for his mighty deeds; and to enhance the marvel of him, he had been born a woman.” All who heard were struck with wonder at this marvel and begged him to tell the tale. Among the rest Achilles said: “Tell on, old man, eloquent wisdom of our age, for all of us alike desire to hear, who was this Caeneus, why was he changed in sex, in what campaign did you know him and fighting against whom; by whom he was conquered if he was conquered by anyone.”