Sadly his father, Priam, mourned for him,not knowing that young Aesacus had assumedwings on his shoulders, and was yet alive.Then also Hector with his brothers madecomplete but unavailing sacrifice,upon a tomb which bore his carved name.Paris was absent. But soon afterwards,he brought into that land a ravished wife,Helen, the cause of a disastrous war,together with a thousand ships, and allthe great Pelasgian nation.Vengeance wouldnot long have been delayed, but the fierce windsraged over seas impassable, and heldthe ships at fishy Aulis. They could notbe moved from the Boeotian land. Here, whena sacrifice had been prepared to Jove,according to the custom of their land,and when the ancient altar glowed with fire,the Greeks observed an azure colored snakecrawling up in a plane tree near the placewhere they had just begun their sacrifice.Among the highest branches was a nest,with twice four birds—and those the serpent seizedtogether with the mother-bird as shewas fluttering round her loss. And every birdthe serpent buried in his greedy maw.All stood amazed: but Calchas, who perceivedthe truth, exclaimed, “Rejoice Pelasgian men,for we shall conquer; Troy will fall; althoughthe toil of war must long continue—sothe nine birds equal nine long years of war.”And while he prophesied, the serpent, coiledabout the tree, was transformed to a stone,curled crooked as a snake. but Nereus stormedin those Aonian waves, and not a shipmoved forward. Some declared that Neptune thuswas aiding Troy, because he built the wallsof that great city. Not so Calchas, sonof Thestor! He knew all the truth, and toldthem plainly that a virgin's bloodalone might end a virgin goddess' wrath.The public good at last prevailed aboveaffection, and the duty of a kingat last proved stronger than a father's love:when Iphigenia as a sacrifice,stood by the altar with her weeping maidsand was about to offer her chaste blood,the goddess, moved by pity, spread a mistbefore their eyes, amid the sacred ritesand mournful supplications. It is saidshe left a hind there in the maiden's placeand carried Iphigenia away. The hind,as it was fitting, calmed Diana's rageand also calmed the anger of the sea.The thousand ships received the winds asternand gained the Phrygian shore.There is a spotconvenient in the center of the world,between the land and sea and the wide heavens,the meeting of the threefold universe.From there is seen all things that anywhereexist, although in distant regions far;and there all sounds of earth and space are heard.Fame is possessor of this chosen place,and has her habitation in a tower,which aids her view from that exalted highs.And she has fixed there numerous avenues,and openings, a thousand, to her towerand no gates with closed entrance, for the houseis open, night and day, of sounding brass,reechoing the tones of every voice.It must repeat whatever it may hear;and there's no rest, and silence in no part.There is no clamor; but the murmuring soundof subdued voices, such as may arisefrom waves of a far sea, which one may hearwho listens at a distance; or the soundwhich ends a thunderclap, when Jupiterhas clashed black clouds together. Fickle crowdsare always in that hall, that come and go,and myriad rumors—false tales mixed with true—are circulated in confusing words.Some fill their empty ears with all this talk,and some spread elsewhere all that's told to them.The volume of wild fiction grows apace,and each narrator adds to what he hears.Credulity is there and rash Mistake,and empty Joy, and coward Fear alarmedby quick Sedition, and soft Whisper—allof doubtful life. Fame sees what things are donein heaven and on the sea, and on the earth.She spies all things in the wide universe.

Fame now had spread the tidings, a great fleetof Greek ships was at that time on its way,an army of brave men. The Trojans stood,all ready to prevent the hostile Greeksfrom landing on their shores. By the decreeof Fate, the first man killed of the invaders' forcewas strong Protesilaus, by the spearof valiant Hector, whose unthought-of powerat that time was discovered by the Greeksto their great cost. The Phyrgians also learned,at no small cost of blood, what warlike strengthcame from the Grecian land. The Sigean shoresgrew red with death-blood: Cygnus, Neptune's son,there slew a thousand men: for which, in wrath,Achilles pressed his rapid chariotstraight through the Trojan army; making a lanewith his great spear, shaped from a Pelion tree.And as he sought through the fierce battle's press,either for Cygnus or for Hector, hemet Cygnus and engaged at once with him(Fate had preserved great Hector from such foetill ten years from that day).Cheering his steeds,their white necks pressed upon the straining yoke,he steered the chariot towards his foe,and, brandishing the spear with his strong arm,he cried, “Whoever you may be, you havethe consolation of a glorious deathyou die by me, Haemonian Achilles!”His heavy spear flew after the fierce words.Although the spear was whirled direct and true,yet nothing it availed with sharpened point.It only bruised, as with a blunted stroke,the breast of Cygnus! “By report we knewof you before this battle, goddess born.”The other answered him, “But why are yousurprised that I escape the threatened wound?”(Achilles was surprised). “This helmet crowned,great with its tawny horse-hair, and this shield,broad-hollowed, on my left arm, are not heldfor help in war: they are but ornament,as Mars wears armor. All of them shall beput off, and I will fight with you unhurt.It is a privilege that I was bornnot as you, of a Nereid but of himwhose powerful rule is over Nereus,his daughters and their ocean.” So, he spoke.Immediately he threw his spear against Achilles,destined to pierce the curving shield through brass,and through nine folds of tough bull's hide.It stopped there, for it could not pierce the tenth.The hero wrenched it out, and hurled againa quivering spear at Cygnus, with great strength.The Trojan stood unwounded and unharmed.Nor did a third spear injure Cygnus, thoughhe stood there with his body all exposed.Achilles raged at this, as a wild bullin open circus, when with dreadful hornshe butts against the hanging purple robeswhich stir his wrath and there observes how theyevade him, quite unharmed by his attack.Achilles then examined his good spear,to see if by some chance the iron pointwas broken from it, but the point was firm,fixed on the wooden shaft. “My hand is weak,”he said, “but is it possible its strengthforsook me though it never has before?For surely I had my accustomed strength,when first I overthrew Lyrnessus' walls,or when I won the isle of Tenedosor Thebes (then under King Eetion)and I drenched both with their own peoples' blood,or when the river Caycus ran redwith slaughter of its people, or, when twiceTelephus felt the virtue of my spear.On this field also, where such heaps lie slain,my right hand surely has proved its true might;and it is mighty.”So he spoke of strength,remembered. But as if in proof againsthis own distrust, he hurled a spear againstMenoetes, a soldier in the Lycian ranks.The sharp spear tore the victim's coat of mailand pierced his breast beneath. Achilles, whenhe saw his dying head strike on the earthwrenched the same spear from out the reeking wound,and said, “This is the hand, and this the spearI conquered with; and I will use the sameagainst him who in luck escaped their power;and the result should favor as I praythe helpful gods.”And, as he said such words,in haste he hurled his ashen spear, againat Cygnus. It went straight and struck unshunned.Resounding on the shoulder of that foe,it bounced back as if it hit a wallor solid cliff. Yet when Achilles sawjust where the spear struck, Cygnus therewas stained with blood. He instantly rejoiced;but vainly, for it was Menoetes' blood!Then in a sudden rage, Achilles leapeddown headlong from his lofty chariot;and, seeking his god-favored foe, he struckin conflict fiercely, with his gleaming sword.Although he saw that he had pierced both shieldand helmet through, he did not harm the foe—his sword was even blunted on the flesh.Achilles could not hold himself for rage,but furious, with his sword-hilt and his shieldhe battered wildly the uncovered faceand hollow-temples of his Trojan foe.Cygnus gave way; Achilles rushed on him,buffeting fiercely, so that he could notrecover from the shock. Fear seized uponCygnus, and darkness swam before his eyes.Then, as he moved back with retreating steps,a large stone hindered him and blocked his way.His back pushed against this, Achilles seizedand dashed him violently to the ground.Then pressing with buckler and hard knees the breastof Cygnus, he unlaced the helmet thongs,wound them about the foeman's neck and drewthem tightly under his chin, till Cygnus' throatcould take no breath of life. Achilles roseeager to strip his conquered foe but foundhis empty armor, for the god of oceanhad changed the victim into that white birdwhose name he lately bore.

There was a trucefor many days after this opening fightwhile both sides resting, laid aside their arms.A watchful guard patroled the Phrygian walls;the Grecian trenches had their watchful guard.Then, on a festal day, Achilles gavethe blood of a slain heifer to obtainthe favor of Athena for their cause.The entrails burned upon the altar, whilethe odor, grateful to the deities,was mounting to the skies. When sacred riteswere done, a banquet for the heroes wasserved on their tables. There the Grecian chiefsreclined on couches; while they satisfiedthemselves with roasted flesh, and banished cares:and thirst with wine. Nor harp nor singing voicenor long pipe made of boxwood pierced with holes,delighted them. They talked of their own deedsand valor, all that thrilling night: and eventhe strength of enemies whom they had metand overcome. What else could they admitor think of, while the great Achilles spokeor listened to them? But especiallythe recent victory over Cygnus heldthem ardent. Wonderful it seemed to themthat such a youth could be composed of fleshnot penetrable by the sharpest spear;of flesh which blunted even hardened steel,and never could be wounded. All the Greeks,and even Achilles wondered at the thought.Then Nestor said to them: “During your time,Cygnus has been the only man you knewwho could despise all weapons and whose fleshcould not be pierced by thrust of sword or spear.But long ago I saw another manable to bear unharmed a thousand strokes,Caeneus of Thessaly, Caeneus who livedupon Mt. Othrys. He was famed in waryet, strange to say, by birth he was a woman!”Then all expressed the greatest wonderment,and begged to hear the story of his life.Achilles cried, “O eloquent old man!The wisdom of our age! All of us wishto hear, who was this Caeneus? Why was hechanged to the other sex? in what campaigns,and in what wars was he so known to you?Who conquered him, if any ever did?”The aged man replied to them with care:—“Although my great age is a harm to me,and many actions of my early daysescape my memory; yet, most of themare well remembered. Nothing of old days,amid so many deeds of war and peace,can be more firmly fixed upon my mindthan the strange story I shall tell of him.“If long extent of years made anyonea witness of most wonderful eventsand many, truly I may say to youthat I have lived two hundred years; and nowhave entered my third century.The daughter of Elatus, Caenis, wasremarkable for charm—most beautifulof all Thessalian maidens—many sighedfor her in vain through all the neighboring townsand yours, Achilles, for that was her home.But Peleus did not try to win her love,for he was either married at that timeto your dear mother, or was pledged to her.“Caenis never became the willing brideof any suitor; but report declares,while she was walking on a lonely shore,the god of ocean saw and ravished her.And in the joy of that love Neptune said,‘Request of me whatever you desire, and nothing shall deny your dearest wish!’—the story tells us that he made this pledge.And Caenis said to Neptune, ‘The great wrong,which I have suffered from you justifiesthe wonderful request that I must make;I ask that I may never suffer suchan injury again. Grant I may beno longer woman, and I'll ask no more.’while she was speaking to him, the last wordsof her strange prayer were uttered in so deep,in such a manly tone, it seemed indeedthey must be from a man.—That was a fact:Neptune not only had allowed her prayer but made the new man proof against all woundsof spear or sword. Rejoicing in the gifthe went his way as Caeneus Atracides,spent years in every manful exercise,and roamed the plains of northern Thessaly.

“The son of bold Ixion, Pirithouswedding Hippodame, had asked as gueststhe cloud-born centaurs to recline aroundthe ordered tables, in a cool cave, setunder some shading trees. Thessalian chiefswere there and I myself was with them there.The festal place resounded with the routin noisy clamor, singing nuptial verse;and in the great room, filled with smoking fire,the maiden came escorted by a crowdof matrons and young married women; shemost beautiful of all that lovely throng.“And so Pirithous, the fortunate son,of bold Ixion, was so praised by all,for his pure joy and lovely wife,it seemed his very blessings must have ledto fatal harm: for savage Eurytus,wildest of the wild centaurs, now inflamedwith sudden envy, drunkenness, and lust,upset the tables and made havoc thereso dreadful, that the banquet suddenlywas changed from love to uproar. Seized by the hair,the bride was violently dragged away.When Eurytus caught up Hippodameeach one of all the centaurs took at willthe maid or matron that he longed for most.The palace, seeming like a captured town,resounded with affrighted shrieks of women.At once we all sprang up. And Theseus cried,“What madness, Eurytus, has driven youto this vile wickedness! While I have life,you dare attack Pirithous. You knownot what you do, for one wrong injures both!’The valiant hero did not merely talk:he pushed them off as they were pressing on,and rescued her whom Eurytus had seized.Since Eurytus could not defend such deedswith words, he turned and beat with violent handsthe face of him who saved the bride and struckhis generous breast. By chance, an ancient bowlwas near at hand. This rough with figures carved,the son of Aegeus caught and hurled it fullin that vile centaur's face. He, spouting outthick gouts of blood, and bleeding from his wounds—his brains and wine mixed,—kicked the blood-soaked sand.His double membered centaur brothers, wildwith passion at his death, all shouted out,‘To arms! to arms!’ Their courage raised by wine!In their first onset, hurled cups flew about,and shattered wine casks, hollow basins—thingsbefore adapted to a banquet, nowfor death and carnage in the furious fight.Amycus first (Opinion's son) began to spoilthe inner sanctuary of its gifts.He snatched up from that shrine a chandelier,adorned with glittering lamps, and lifted high,with all the force of one who strives to breakthe bull s white neck with sacrificial axe,he dashed it at the head of Celadon,one of the Lapithae, and crushed his skullinto the features of his face. His eyesleaped from his sockets, and the shattered bonesof his smashed face gave way so that his nosewas driven back and fastened in his throat.But Belates of Pella tore awaya table-leg of maple wood and felledAmycus to the ground; his sunken chincast down upon his breast; and, as he spathis teeth out mixed with blood, a second blowdespatched him to the shades of Tartarus.“Gryneus, seeing a smoking altar, cried,‘Good use for this,’ with which words he raised upthat heavy, blazing altar. Hurling itinto the middle of the Lapithae,he struck down Broteas and Orius:Mycale, mother of that Orius,was famous for her incantations,which she had often used to conjure downthe shining twin-horns of the unwilling moon.Exadius threatened, ‘You shall not escape!Let me but have a weapon!’ And with that,he whirled the antlers of a votive stag,which he found there, hung on a tall pine-tree;and with that double-branching horn he piercedthe eyes of Gryneus, and he gouged them out.One eye stuck to the horn; the other rolleddown on his beard, to which it strictly clungin dreadful clotted gore.Then Rhoetus snatcheda blazing brand of plum-wood from an altarand whirling it upon the right, smashed throughthe temples of Charaxus, wonderfulwith golden hair. Seized by the violent flames,his yellow locks burned fiercely, as a fieldof autumn grain; and even the scorching bloodgave from the sore wound a terrific noiseas a red-hot iron in pincers which the smithlifts out and plunges in the tepid pool,hissing and sizzling. Charaxus shookthe fire from his burnt locks; and heaved up onhis shoulders a large threshold stone torn fromthe ground—a weight sufficient for a teamof oxen. The vast weight impeded him,so that it could not even touch his foe—and yet, the massive stone did hit his friend,Cometes, who was standing near to him,and crushed him down. Then Rhoetus, crazed with joy,exulting yelled, ‘I pray that all of youmay be so strong!’ Wielding his half-burnt stakewith heavy blows again and again, he brokethe sutures of his enemy's skull, untilthe bones were mingled with his oozing brains.“Victorious, then rushed he upon Evagrus,and Corythus and Dryas. First of thesewas youthful Corythus, whose cheeks were thenjust covered with soft down. When he fell dead,Evagrus cried, ‘What glory do you get,killing a boy?’ But Rhoetus did not givehim time for uttering one word more. He pushedthe red hot stake into the foeman's mouth,while he still spoke, and down into his lungs.He then pursued the savage Dryas, whilewhirling the red fire fast about his head;but not with like success, for, while he stillrejoiced in killings, Dryas turned and piercedhim with a stake where neck and shoulder meet.“Rhoetus groaned and with a great effort pulledthe stake out from the bone, then fled away,drenched in his blood. And Orneus followed him.Lycabas fled, and Medon with a woundin his right shoulder. Thaumas and Pisenorand Mermerus fled with them. Mermerus,who used to excell all others in a race,ran slowly, crippled by a recent wound.Pholus and Melaneus ran for their livesand with them Abas, hunter of wild boarsand Asbolus, the augur, who in vainhad urged his friends to shun that hapless fight.As Nessus joined the rout, he said to him,‘You need not flee, for you shall be reserveda victim for the bow of Hercules!’but neither Lycidas, Eurynomusnor Areos, nor Imbreus had escapedfrom death: for all of these the strong right handof Dryas pierced, as they confronted him.Crenaeus there received a wound in front.Although he turned in flight, as he looked back,a heavy javelin between his eyespierced through him, where his nose and forehead joined.

“In all this uproar, Aphidas lay flat,in endless slumber from the wine he drank,incessant, and his nerveless hand still heldthe cup of mixed wine, as he lay full stretched,upon a shaggy bear-skin from Mount Ossa.When Phorbas saw him, harmless in that sleep,he laid his fingers in his javelin's thong,and shouted loudly, ‘Mix your wine, down there,with waters of the Styx!’ And stopping talk,let fly his javelin at the sleeping youth—the ashen shaft, iron-tipped, was driven throughhis neck, exposed, as he by chance lay there—his head thrown back. He did not even feela touch of death—and from his deep-pierced throathis crimson blood flowed out upon the couch,and in the wine-bowl still grasped in his hand.“I saw Petraeus when he strove to tearup from the earth, an acorn-bearing oak.And, while he struggled with it, back and forth,and was just ready to wrench up the trunk,Pirithous hurled a well aimed spear at him,transfixed his ribs, and pinned his body tight,writhing, to that hard oak: and Lycus felland Chromis fell, before Pirithous.“They gave less glory to the conquerorthan Helops or than Dictys. Helops waskilled by a javelin, which pierced his templesfrom the right side, clear through to his left ear.And Dictys, running in a desperate haste,hoping in vain, to escape Ixion's son,slipped on the steep edge of a precipice;and, as he fell down headlong crashed intothe top of a huge ash-tree, which impaledhis dying body on its broken spikes.“Aphareus, eager to avenge him triedto lift a rock from that steep mountain side;but as he heaved, the son of Aegeus struckhim squarely with an oaken club; and smashed,and broke the huge bones of that centaur's arm.He has no time, and does not want to givethat useless foe to death. He leaps uponthe back of tall Bienor, never trainedto carry riders, and he fixed his kneesfirm in the centaur's ribs, and holding tightto the long hair, seized by his left hand, struckand shattered the hard features and fierce faceand bony temples with his club of gnarledstrong oak. And with it, he struck to the groundNedymnus and Lycopes, dart expert,and Hippasus, whose beard hid all his breast.And Rhipheus taller than the highest treesand Thereus, who would carry home alivethe raging bears, caught in Thessalian hills.Demoleon could no longer stand and lookon Theseus and his unrestrained success.He struggled with vast effort to tear upan old pine, trunk and all, with its long roots,and, failing shortly in that first attempt,he broke it off and hurled it at his foe.But Theseus saw the pine tree in its flightand, warned by Pallas, got beyond its range—his boast was, Pallas had directed him!And yet, the missle was not launched in vain.It sheared the left shoulder and the breastfrom tall Crantor. He, Achilles, wasyour father's armor bearer and was givenby King Amyntor, when he sued for peace.“When Peleus at a distance saw him tornand mangled, he exclaimed, ‘At least receivethis sacrifice, O Crantor! most beloved!Dearest of young men!’ And with sturdy armand all his strength of soul as well, he hurledhis ashen lance against Demoleon,which piercing through his shivered ribs, hung thereand quivered in the bones. The centaur wrenchedthe wooden shaft out, with his frenzied hands,but could not move the pointed head, which stuckwithin his lungs. His very anguish gavehim such a desperation, that he roseagainst his foe and trampled and beat downthe hero with his hoofs, Peleus allowedthe blows to fall on helm and ringing shield.Protected so, he watched his time and thrustup through the centaur's shoulder. By one strokehe pierced two breasts, where horse and man-form met.Before this, Peleus with the spear had killedboth Myles and Phlegraeus and with the swordIphinous and Clanis. Now he killedDorylas, who was clad in a wolfskin capand fought with curving bull's horns dripping blood.“To him I said, for courage gave me strength,‘Your horns! how much inferior to my steel!’—and threw my spear. Since he could not avoidthe gleaming point, he held up his right handto shield his forehead from the threatened wound.His hand was pierced and pinned against his forehead.He shouted madly. Peleus, near him whilehe stood there pinned and helpless with his wound,struck him with sharp sword in the belly deep.He leaped forth fiercely, as he trailed his bowelsupon the ground, with his entangled legstreading upon them, bursting them, he fellwith empty belly, lifeless to the earth.“Cyllarus, beauty did not save your life—if beauty is in any of your tribe—your golden beard was in its early growth,your golden hair came flowing to your shoulders. in your bright face there was a pleasing glance.The neck and shoulders and the hands and breast,:and every aspect of his human formresembled those admired statues whichour gifted artists carve. Even the shapeof the fine horse beneath the human formwas perfect too. Give him the head and neckof a full-blooded horse, and he would seema steed for Castor, for his back was shapedso comfortable to be sat uponand muscle swelled upon his arching chest.His lustrous body was as black as pitch,and yet his legs and flowing tailwere white as snow.Many a female of his kindloved him, but only Hylonome gainedhis love. There was no other centaur maidso beautiful as she within the woods.By coaxing ways she had won Cyllarus,by loving and confessing love. By daintiness,so far as that was possible in oneof such a form, she held his love; for nowshe smoothed her long locks with a comb; and nowshe decked herself with rosemary and nowwith violets or with roses in her hair;and sometimes she wore lilies, white as snow;and twice each day she bathed her lovely face,in the sweet stream that falls down from the heightof wooded Pagasa; and daily, twiceshe dipped her body in the stream. She woreupon her shoulders and left side a skin,greatly becoming, of selected worth.“Their love was equal, and together theywould wander over mountain-sides, and resttogether in cool caves; and so it was,they went together to that palace-cave,known to the Lapithae. Together theyfought fiercely in this battle, side by side.Thrown by an unknown hand, a javelin piercedCyllarus, just below the fatal spotwhere the chest rises to the neck—his heart,though only slightly wounded, grew quite cold,and his whole body felt cold, afterwards,as quickly as the weapon was drawn out.Then Hylonome held in her embracethe dying body; fondled the dread woundand, fixing her lips closely to his lipsendeavored to hold back his dying breath.But soon she saw that he indeed was dead.With mourning words, which clamor of the fightprevented me from hearing, she threw herselfon the spear that pierced her Cyllarus and fellupon his breast, embracing him in death.

“Another sight still comes before my eyes,the centaur Phaeocomes with his log.He wore six lion skins well wrapped aroundhis body, and with fixed connecting knotsthey covered him, both horse and man. He hurleda trunk two yokes of oxen scarce could moveand struck the hapless son of Olenusa crushing blow upon the head. The broadround dome was shattered, and his dying brainsoozed out through hollow nostrils, mouth, and ears,as curdled milk seeps down through oaken twigs;or other liquors, crushed out under weights,flow through a well-pierced sieve and, thick,squeeze out through numerous holes.As he beganto spoil his victim—and your father canaffirm the truth of this—I thrust my sworddeep in the wretch's groin. Chthonius, too,and Teleboas fell there by my sword.The former had a two-pronged stick as hissole weapon, and the other had a spear,with which the wounded me. You see the scar.The old scar still is surely visible!“Those were my days of youth and strength, and thenI ought to have warred against the citadelof Pergama. I could have checked, or evenvanquished, the arms of Hector: but, alas,Hector had not been born, or was perhapsa boy. Old age has dulled my youthful strength.What use is it, to speak of Periphas,who overcame Pyretus, double-formed?Why tell of Ampyx, who with pointless shaft,victorious thrust Echeclus through the face?Macareus, hurling a heavy crowbar piercedErigdupus and laid him low.A hunting spear that Nessus strongly hurled,was buried in the groin of Cymelus.Do not believe that Mopsus, son of Ampycus,was merely a prophet of events to come,he slew a daring two-formed monster there.Hodites tried in vain to speak, beforehis death, but could not, for his tongue was nailedagainst his chin, his chin against his throat.“Five of the centaurs Caeneus put to death:Styphelus, Bromus, and Antimachus,Elymus, and Pyracmos with his axe.I have forgot their wounds but noted welltheir names and number. Latreus, huge of limb,had killed and stripped Emathian Halesus.Now in his armor he came rushing out,in years he was between old age and youth;but he retained the vigor of his youth;his temples showed his hair was mixed with grey.Conspicuous for his Macedonian lanceand sword and shield, facing both sides—each way,he insolently clashed his arms; and whilehe rode poured out these words in empty air.“ ‘Shall I put up with one like you, O Caeneus?For you are still a woman in my sight.Have you forgot your birth or that disgraceby which you won reward—at what a priceyou got the false resemblance to a man?!Consider both your birth, and what you havesubmitted to! Take up a distaff, andwool basket! Twist your threads with practiced thumb!Leave warfare to your men!’“While puffed-up pridewas vaunting out such nonsense, Caeneus hurleda spear and pierced the stretched out running side,just where the man was joined upon the horse.“The Centaur, Latreus, raved with pain and struckwith his great pike, the face of Caeneus.His pike rebounded as the hail that slantsup from the roof; or as a pebble mightrebound from hollow drum. Then coming near,he tried to drive a sword into the hard sideof Caeneus, but it could not make a wound.‘Aha!’ he cried, ‘this will not get you off.The good edge of my sword will take your life,although the point is blunt!’ He turned the edgeagainst the flank of Caeneus and swung roundthe hero's loins with his long, curving arm.The flesh resounded like a marble block,the keen blade shattered on the unyielding skin.“And, after Caeneus had exposed his limbsunhurt to Latreus, who stood there amazed,‘Come now,’ he said, ‘and let us try my steelagainst your body!’ And, clear to the hilt,down through the monster's shoulder-blade he plungedhis deadly sword and, turning it again,deep in the Centaur's entrails, made new woundswithin his wound.“Then, quite beside themselves,the double-natured monsters rushed againstthat single-handed youth with huge uproar,and thrust and hurled their weapons all at him.Their blunted weapons fell and he remainedunharmed and without even a mark.”“That strange sight left them speechless. ‘Oh what shame!’at length cried Monychus, ‘Our mighty host,—a nation of us, are defeated and defiedby one who hardly is a man. Althoughindeed, he is a man, and we have proved,by our weak actions, we are certainlywhat he was! Shame on us! Oh, what if wehave twofold strength, of what avail our hugeand mighty limbs, doubly united inthe strongest, hugest bodies in this world?And how can I believe that we were bornof any goddess? It is surely vainto claim descent of great Ixion, whohigh-souled, sought Juno for his mighty mate;imagine it, while we are conquered byan enemy, who is but half a man!Wake up! and let us heap tree-trunks and stonesand mountains on him! Crush his stubborn life!Let forests smother him to death! Their weightwill be as deadly as a hundred wounds!’“While he was raving, by some chance he founda tree thrown down there by the boisterous wind:example to the rest, he threw that treeagainst the powerful foe; and in short timeOthrys was bare of trees, and Pelion had no shade.Buried under that mountainous forest heap,Caeneus heaved up against the weight of oaksupon his brawny shoulders piled. But, asthe load increased above his face and head,he could not draw a breath. Gasping for life,he strove to lift his head into the air,and sometimes he convulsed the towering mass,as if great Ida, now before our eyes,should tremble with some heaving of the earth.“What happened to him could not well be known.Some thought his body was borne down by weightinto the vast expanse of Tartarus.The son of Ampycus did not agree,for from the middle of the pile we sawa bird with golden wings mount high in air.Before or since, I never saw the like.“When Mopsus was aware of that bird's flight—it circled round the camp on rustling wings—with eyes and mind he followed it and shouted aloud:‘Hail, glory of the Lapithaean race,their greatest hero, now a bird unique!’and we believed the verdict of the seer.“Our grief increased resentment, and we boreit with disgust that one was overwhelmedby such a multitude. Then in revengewe plied our swords, till half our foes were dead,and only flight and darkness saved the rest.”

Nestor had hardly told this marvellous taleof bitter strife betwixt the Lapithaeand those half-human, vanquished Centaurs, whenTlepolemus, incensed because no wordof praise was given to Hercules, repliedin this way; “Old sir, it is very strange,you have neglected to say one good wordin praise of Hercules. My father toldme often, that he overcame in battlethose cloud born centaurs.”Nestor, very loth,replied, “Why force me to recall old wrongs,to uncover sorrow buried by the years,that made me hate your father? It is truehis deeds were wonderful beyond belief,heaven knows, and filled the earth with well earned praisewhich I should rather wish might be denied.Deiphobus, the wise Polydamas, and evengreat Hector get no praise from me.Your father, I recall once overthrewMessene's walls and with no cause destroyedElis and Pylos and with fire and swordruined my own loved home. I cannot nameall whom he killed. But there were twelve of us,the sons of Neleus and all warrior youths,and all those twelve but me alone he killed.Ten of them met the common fate of war,but sadder was the death of Periclymenus.“Neptune, the founder of my family,had granted him a power to assumewhatever shape he chose, and when he wishedto lay that shape aside. When he, in vain,had been transformed to many other shapeshe turned into the form of that bird, whichis wont to carry in his crooked talonsthe forked lightnings, favorite bird of Jove.With wings and crooked bill and sharp-hooked talons,he assailed and tore the face of Hercules.But, when he soared away on eagle wingsup to the clouds and hovered, poised in air,that hero aimed his too unerring bowand hit him where the new wing joined his side.The wound was not large, but his sinews cutfailed to uphold him, and denied his wingstheir strength and motion. He fell down to earth;his weakened pinions could not catch the air.And the sharp arrow, which had lightly piercedthe wing, was driven upward through the sideinto the left part of my brother's neck.“O noble leader of the Rhodian fleet,why should I sing the praise of Hercules?But for my brothers I take no revengeexcept withholding praise of his great deeds.With you, my friendship will remain secure.”When Nestor with his honied tongue had toldthese tales of old, they all took wine againand they arose and gave the night to sleep.

But Neptune, who commands the ocean waves,lamented with a father's grief his son,whose person he had changed into a bird—the swan of Phaethon, and towards Achilles,grim victor in the fight, his lasting hatemade him pursue resentment far beyondthe ordinary manner of the gods.After nine years of war he spoke these words,addressing long haired Sminthean Apollo:“O nephew the most dear to me of allmy brother's sons, with me you built in vainthe walls of Troy: you must be lost in grief,when you look on those towers so soon to fall?Or do you not lament the multitudesslain in defence of them—To name but one:“Does not the ghost of Hector, dragged aroundhis Pergama, appear to you? And yetthe fierce Achilles, who is bloodstained morethan slaughtering war, lives on this earth,for the destruction of our toil. Let himonce get into my power, and I will makehim feel the action of my triple spear.But, since I may not meet him face to face,do you with sudden arrow give him death.”The Delian god, Apollo, gave assent,both for his own hate and his uncle's rage.Veiled in a cloud, he found the Trojan hostand, there, while bloody strife went on, he sawthe hero Paris shoot at intervalshis arrows at the nameless host of Greeks.Revealing his divinity, he said:“Why spend your arrows on the common menif you would serve your people, take good aimat great Achilles and at last avengeyour hapless brothers whom he gave to death.”He pointed out Achilles—laying lowthe Trojan warriors with his mighty spear.On him he turned the Trojan's willing bowand guided with his hand the fatal shaft.It was the first joy that old Priam knewsince Hector's death. So then Achilles you,who overcame the mighty, were subduedby a coward who seduced a Grecian wife!Ah, if you could not die by manly hands,your choice had been the axe.Now that great terror of the Trojan race,the glory and defence of the Pelasgians,Achilles, first in war, lay on the pyre.The god of Fire first armed, then burned, his limbs.And now he is but ashes; and of him, so great,renowned and mighty, but a pitifulhandful of small dust insufficient fora little urn! But all his glory livesenough to fill the world—a great reward.And in that glory is his real life:in a true sense he will never know the voidof Tartarus.But soon his very shield—that men might know to whom it had belonged—brings war, and arms are taken for his arms.Neither Diomed nor Ajax called the lessventured to claim the hero's mighty shield.Menelaus and other warlike chiefs,even Agamemnon, all withdrew their claims.Only the greater Ajax and Ulysseshad such assurance that they dared contestfor that great prize. Then Agamemnon choseto avoid the odium of preferring one.He bade the Argolic chieftains take their seatswithin the camp and left to all of themthe hearing and decision of the cause.

Book 13

The chiefs were seated, and the soldiers forma circle round them. Then Ajax, the approvedlord of the seven-fold shield, arose and spoke.Impatient in his wrath, he looked with stern,set features, out over Sigaean shores,and over the fleet of ships upon the beach,and, stretching out his hands, he said,“We plead,O Jupiter, our cause before the ships,—Ulysses vies with me! He did not shrinkfrom giving way before the flames of Hector,when I withstood them and I saved the fleet.'Tis safer then to fight with lying wordsthan with his hands. I am not prompt to speak,nor he to act. I am as good in warand deadly battle as he is in talk.Pelasgians, I do not suppose my deedsmust here be mentioned: you have witnessed thembut let Ulysses tell of deeds which heperformed without a witness and which Nightalone is conscious of. I own the prizewe seek is great, but such a rival makesit small. To Ajax there s no cause for pridein having any prize, however great,for which Ulysses hoped. But he has wonreward enough already. He can boast,when vanquished, that he strove with me.“I, even if my merit were in doubtshould still excell in birth. I am the sonof Telamon, who with great Herculesbrought low the power of Troy and in the shipof Jason voyaged even to the Colchian shores.His father, Aeacus, now is a judgeamong the silent shades—where Sisyphustoils and is mocked forever with the stone.Great Jove himself calls Aeacus his son.Thus, Ajax is the third from Jupiter.But, Greeks, let not this line of my descentavail me, if I do not share it withmy cousin, great Achilles. I demandthese arms now due me as a cousin. Whyshould this one, from the blood of Sisyphus,and like him for his thefts and frauds, intrudethe names of that loathed family uponhonored descendants of brave Aeacus?“Will you deny me arms because I tookarms earlier, no man prompting me,and call this man the better, who last of alltook up arms, and, pretending he was mad,declined war, till the son of Napliusmore shrewd than he (but to his future cost)discovered the contrivance of the fraudand had the coward dragged forth to the armshe had avoided. And shall this man havethe world's best arms, who wanted none?Shall I lack honor and my cousin's giftbecause I faced the danger with the first?“Would that his madness had been real, orhad been accepted as realityand that he never had attended us,as our companion to the Phrygian towers,this counsellor of evil! Then, good sonof Poeas, Lemnos would not hold you now,exposed through guilt of ours! You, as men say,hidden in forest lairs, are moving with your groansthe very rocks and asking for Ulysseswhat he so well deserves—what, if indeedthere still are gods, you shall not ask in vain.And now, one of our leaders, he that wassworn to the same arms with ourselves! by whomthe arrows of great Hercules are used,as his successor; broken by diseaseand famine, clothed with feathers, now must feedon birds and squander for his wretched farethe arrows destined for the wreck of Troy.“At least he lives, because he has not stayedtoo near Ulysses. Hapless Palamedesmight wish that he too had been left behind,then he would live or would have met a deathwithout dishonor. For this man, who wellremembered the unfortunate discoveryof his feigned madness, made a fraudulentattack on Palamedes, who he saidbetrayed the Grecian interest. He provedhis false charge to the Greeks by showing themthe gold which he himself hid in the ground.By exile or by death he has decreasedthe true strength of the Greeks. And so he fights,for such things men have cause to fear Ulysses!“Should he excel the faithful Nestor byhis eloquence, I'd yet be well convincedthe way he forsook Nestor was a crime,old Nestor, who implored in vain his aid,when he was hindered by his wounded steedand wearied with the years of his old age,was then deserted by that scheming man.The charge that I have made is strictly true,and the son of Tydeus knows it all too well;for he at that time called him by his name,rebuked him and upbraided his weak friendfor coward flight.“The gods above beholdthe affairs of men with justice. That same manwho would not help a friend now calls for help;he who forsook a friend, should be forsaken,the law he made returns upon himself.He called aloud on his companions;I came and saw him trembling, pale with fear,and shuddering, at the thought of coming death.I held my shield above him where he lay,and that way saved the villain's dastard life,and little praise I have deserved for that.If you still wish to claim this armor, letus both return to that place and restorethe enemy, your wound, and usual fear—there hide behind my shield, and under thatcontend with me! Yet, when I faced the foe,he, whom his wound had left no power to stand,forgot the wound and took to headlong flight.“Hector approached, and brought the gods with himto battle; and, wherever he rushed on,not only this Ulysses was alarmed,but even the valiant, for so great the fearhe caused them. Hector, proud in his successin blood and slaughter, I then dared to meetand with a huge: stone from a distance hurledI laid him flat. When he demanded oneto fight with, I engaged him quite alone,for you my Greek friends, prayed the lotmight fall upon me, and your prayers prevailed.If you should ask me of this fight, I willdeclare I was not vanquished there by him.“Behold, the Trojans brought forth fire and swordand Jove, as well, against the Grecian fleet,where now has eloquent Ulysses gone?Truly, I did protect a thousand shipswith my breast, saving the hopes of your return.—for all these many ships, award me arms!But, let me speak the truth, the arms will gainmore fame than I, for they will share my glory.And they need Ajax, Ajax needs not them.

Let the Ithacan compare with deeds like minehis sleeping Rhesus, his unwarlike Dolon,Helenus taken, and Pallas gained by theft—all done by night and all with Diomed.If you must give these arms for deeds so mean,then give the greater share to Diomed.“Why give arms to Ulysses, who by stealthand quite unarmed, has always done his work,deceiving his unwary enemyby stratagems? This brilliant helmet, richwith sparkling gold, will certainly betrayhis plans, and will discover him when hid.His soft Dulichian head beneath the helmof great Achilles will not bear the weight;Achilles' heavy spear from Pelion mustbe burdensome for his unwarlike hands:nor will the shield, graven with the vasty worldbeseem a dastard left hand, smooth for theft.“Why caitiff, will you beg them for a gift,which will but weaken you? If by mistake,the Grecian people should award you this,it would not fright the foe but offer spoilsand that swift flight (in which alone you haveexcelled all others, dastard wretch!) would soongrow laggard, dragging such a weight. And thatgood shield of yours, which has but rarely felta conflict, is unhurt; for mine, agapewith wounds a thousand from swift-striking darts,a new one must be found.“In short, what needis there for words? Let us be tried in war.Let all the arms of brave Achilles nowbe thrown among the foe; order them allto be retrieved; and decorate for warwhoever brings them back, a worthy prize.”Ajax, the son of Telamon, stopped speech,and murmuring among the multitudefollowed his closing words, until Ulysses,Laertian hero, stood up there and fixedhis eyes a short time on the ground; then raisedthem towards the chiefs; and with his opening words,which they awaited, the grace of his artwas not found wanting to his eloquence.“If my desire and yours could have prevailed,O noble Greeks, the man who should receivea prize so valued, would not be in doubt,and you would now enjoy your arms, and weenjoy you, great Achilles. Since unjustfate has denied him both to me and you,(and here he wiped his eyes dry with his hands,as though then shedding tears,) who could succeedthe great Achilles better than the onethrough whom the great Achilles joined the Greeks?Let Ajax win no votes because he seemsto be as stupid as the truth declares.Let not my talents, which were always usedfor service of the Greeks, increase my harm:and let this eloquence of mine (if suchwe call it) which is pleading now for me,as it has pleaded many times for you,awake no envy. Let each man show his best.“Now as for ancestors and noble birthand deeds we have not done ourselves, all theseI hardly call them ours. But, if he boastsbecause he is the great grandson of Jove,the founder of my family, you know,is Jupiter; by birth I am just the samedegree removed from Jupiter as he.Laertes is my father, my grandsire isArcesius; and my great grandsire is Jove,and my line: has no banished criminal.My mother's grandsire, Mercury, would giveme further claims of birth—on either side a god.“But not because my mother's line is betterand not because my father certainly,is innocent of his own brother's blood,have I advanced my claim to own those arms.Let personal merit weigh the cause alone.Let Ajax win no credit from the factthat Telamon, was brother unto Peleus.Let not his merit be that he is near by blood,may honor of manhood weigh in your award!“But, if you seek the heir and next of kin,Peleus is father, and Pyrrhus is the sonof great Achilles. Where is Ajax then?These arms might go to Phthia or to Scyros!Teucer might claim the prize because he isAchilles' cousin. Does he seek these arms?And, if he did, would you allow his claim?“Since then the contest lies in deeds alone,though I have done more than may be well told,I will recall them as they have occurred.“Achilles' Nereid mother, who foresawhis death, concealed her son by change of dress.By that disguise Ajax, among the rest,was well deceived. I showed with women's waresarms that might win the spirit of a man.The hero still wore clothing of a girl,when, as he held a shield and spear, I said‘Son of a goddess! Pergama but waitsto fall by you, why do you hesitateto assure the overthrow of mighty Troy?’With these bold words, I laid my hand on him—and to: brave actions I sent forth the brave:his deeds of Bravery are therefore mineit was my power that conquered Telephus,as he fought with his lance; it was through methat, vanquished and suppliant? he at last was healed.I caused the fall of Thebes; believe me, Itook Lesbos, Tenedos, Chryse and Cilla—the cities of Apollo; and I tookScyros; think too, of the Lyrnesian wallas shaken by my hand, destroyed, and thrown down level with the ground. Let this suffice:I found the man who caused fierce Hector's death,through me the famous Hector now, lies low!And for those arms which made Achilles knownI now demand these arms. To him aliveI gave them—at his death they should be mine.“After the grief of one had reached all Greece,and ships a thousand, filled Euboean Aulis;the breezes long expected would not blowor adverse held the helpless fleet ashore.Then ruthless oracles gave their command,that Agamemnon should make sacrificeof his loved daughter and so satisfyDiana's cruel heart. The father stoodup resolute, enraged against the gods,a parent even though a king. I turned,by tactful! words, a father's tender heartto the great issue of the public weal.I will confess it, and when I have confessed,may the son of Atreus pardon: I had to pleada difficult case before a partial judge.The people's good, his brother's, and stern duty,that followed his great office, won his ear,till royal honor outweighed claims of blood.I sought the mother, who could not be wonby pleading but must be deceived by craft.Had Ajax gone to her, our thousand sailswould still droop, waiting for the favoring breeze.“As a bold envoy I was even sentoff to the towers of Ilium, and thereI saw the senate-house of lofty Troy,and, fearless, entered it, while it was fullof heroes. There, undaunted, I spoke forthe cause which all the Greeks had given me.Accusing Paris, I demanded backthe gold and stolen Helen, and I movedboth Priam and Antenor. All the whileParis, his brothers, and their robber crewcould scarce withhold their wicked hands from me.And all this, Menelaus, is well known to you:that was the first danger I shared with you.

“I need not linger over the many thingswhich by my counsel and my braveryI have accomplished through this long-drawn war.“A long time, after the first battle clash,the foe lay quiet within city walls,giving no challenge for an open fight—he stood nine years of siege before we foughtwhat were you doing all that tedious time,what use were you, good only in a fight?If you will make inquiry of my deeds:I fashioned ambuscades for enemies;and circled our defenses with a trench;I cheered allies so they might all endurewith patient minds a long, protracted war;I showed how our own army might subsistand how it could be armed; and I was sentwherever the necessity required.“Then, at the wish of Jove, our king, deceiveby A false dream, bids us give up the war—he could excuse his order by the cause.Let Ajax tell him Troy must be laid lowor let him fight—at least he can do that!Why does he fail to stop the fugitives?Why not take arms and tell the wavering crowdto rally round him? Would that be too muchfor one who never speaks except to boast?But now words fail me: Ajax turns and flees!I witnessed it and was ashamed to seeyou turn disgraced, preparing sails for flight.With exclamations and without delay,I said, ‘What are you doing? O my friends,has madness seized you that you will quit Troy,which is as good as taken? What can youbear home, after ten years, but your disgrace?’“With these commanding words, which grief itselfgave eloquence, I brought resisting Greeksback from their purposed flight. Atrides calledtogether his allies, all terror struck.Even then, Ajax the son of Telamondared not vouchsafe one word. But impudentThersites hurled vile words against the kings,and, thanks to me, he did not miss reproof.I rose and spoke to my disheartened friends,reviving their lost courage with my wordsfrom that time forth, whatever deeds this man,my rival, may have done, belong to me.'Twas I who stayed his flight and brought him back.“Which of the noble Greeks has given you praiseor sought your company? Yet Diomedhas shared his deeds with me and praises me,and, while Ulysses is with him, is braveand confident. 'Tis worthy of regard,when out of many thousands of the Greeks,a man becomes the choice of Diomed!“It was not lot that ordered me to go;and yet, despising dangers of the night,despising dangers of the enemy,I slew one, Dolon, of the Phrygian race,who dared to do the very things we dared,but not before I had prevailed on himto tell me everything, by which I learnedperfidious actions which Troy had designed.“Of such things now, I had discovered allthat should be found out, and I might have thenreturned to enjoy the praise I had deserved.But not content with that, I sought the tentof Rhesus, and within his camp I slewhim and his proved attendants. Having thusgained as a conqueror my own desires,I drove back in a captured chariot,—a joyous triumph. Well, deny me, then.The arms of him whose steeds the enemydemanded as the price of one night's aid.Ajax himself has been more generous.“Why should I name Sarpedon's Lycian troopsamong whom I made havoc with my sword?I left Coeranos dead and streaming blood,with the sword I killed Alastor, Chromius,Alcander, Prytanis, Halius, and Noemon,Thoon and Charops with Chersidamas,and Ennomus—all driven by cruel fate,not reckoning humbler men whom I laid low,battling beneath the shadow of the city walls.And fellow citizens, I have my woundshonorable in the front. Do not believemy word alone. Look for yourselves and see!”Then with one hand, he drew his robe aside.“Here is a breast,” he cried, “that bled for you!But Ajax never shed a drop of bloodto aid his friends, in all these many years,and has a body free of any wound.“What does it prove, if he declares that hefought for our ships against both Troy and Jove?I grant he did, for it is not my wontwith malice to belittle other's deeds.But let him not claim for himself alonean honor in which all may have a share,let him concede some credit due to you.Disguised within the fear inspiring armsof great Achilles, Actor's son drove backthe host of Trojans from our threatened fleetor ships and Ajax would have burned together.“Unmindful of the king, the chiefs, and me,he dreams that he alone dared to engagein single fight with Hector—he the ninthto volunteer and chosen just by lot.But yet, O brave chief! What availed the fight?Hector returned, not injured by a wound.“Ah, bitter fate, with how much grief I amcompelled to recollect the time, when braveAchilles, bulwark of the Greeks, was slain.Nor tears, nor grief, nor fear, could hinder me:I carried his dead body from the ground,uplifted on these shoulders, I repeat,upon these shoulders from that groundI bore off dead Achilles, and those armswhich now I want to bear away again.I have the strength to walk beneath their weight,I have a mind to understand their worth.Did the hero's mother, goddess of the sea,win for her son these arms, made by a god,a work of wondrous art, to have them clothea rude soldier, who has no mind at all?He never could be made to understandthe rich engravings, pictured on the shield—the ocean, earth, and stars in lofty skies;the Pleiades, and Hyades, the Bear,which touches not the ocean, far beyondthe varied planets, and the fire-bright swordof high Orion. He demands a prize,which, if he had it, would be lost on him.“What of his taunting me, because I shrankfrom hardships of this war and I was slowto join the expedition? Does he not see,that he reviles the great Achilles too?Was my pretense a crime? then so was his.Was our delay a fault? mine was the less,for I came sooner; me a loving wifedetained from war, a loving mother him.Some hours we gave to them, the rest to you.Why should I be alarmed, if now I amunable to defend myself againstthis accusation, which is just the sameas you have brought against so great a man?Yet he was found by the dexterityof me, Ulysses, and Ulysses wasnot found by the dexterity of Ajax.“It is no wonder that he pours on mereproaches of his silly tongue, becausehe charges you with what is worthy shame.Am I depraved because this Palamedes hasimproperly been charged with crime by me?Then was it honorable for all of you,if you condemned him? Only think, that he,the son of Naplius, made no defenceagainst the crime, so great, so manifest:nor did you only hear the charges broughtagainst him, but you saw the proof yourselves,and in the gold his villainy was shown.