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(From The Iliad, Book XXI)
Translated by W. C. Bryant
AND then Achilles, mighty with the spear, | |
| From the steep bank leaped into the mid-stream, | |
| While, foul with ooze, the angry River raised | |
| His waves and pushed along the heaps of dead | |
| Slain by Achilles. These, with mighty roar, | 5 |
| As of a bellowing ox, Scamander cast | |
| Aground; the living with his whirling gulfs | |
| He hid, and saved them in his friendly streams. | |
| In tumult terribly the surges rose | |
| Around Achilles, beating on his shield, | 10 |
| And made his feet to stagger, till he grasped | |
| A tall, fair-growing elm upon the bank. | |
| Down came the tree, and in its loosened roots | |
| Brought the earth with it; the fair stream was checked | |
| By the thick branches, and the prostrate trunk | 15 |
| Bridged it from side to side. Achilles sprang | |
| From the deep pool, and fled with rapid feet | |
| Across the plain in terror. Nor did then | |
| The mighty river-god refrain, but rose | |
| Against him with a darker crest, to drive | 20 |
| The noble son of Peleus from the field, | |
| And so deliver Troy. Pelides sprang | |
| A spear’s cast backward,—sprang with all the speed | |
| Of the black eagle’s wing, the hunter-bird, | |
| Fleetest and strongest of the fowls of air. | 25 |
| Like him he darted; clashing round his breast, | |
| The brazen mail rang fearfully. Askance | |
| He fled; the water with a mighty roar | |
| Followed him close. As, when a husbandman | |
| Leads forth, from some dark spring of earth, a rill | 30 |
| Among his planted garden-beds, and clears | |
| Its channel, spade in hand, the pebbles there | |
| Move with the current, which runs murmuring down | |
| The sloping surface and outstrips its guide,— | |
| So rushed the waves where’er Achilles ran, | 35 |
| Swift as he was; for mightier are the gods | |
| Than men. As often as the noble son | |
| Of Peleus made a stand in hope to know | |
| Whether the deathless gods of the great heaven | |
| Conspired to make him flee, so often came | 40 |
| A mighty billow of the Jove-born stream | |
| And drenched his shoulders. Then again he sprang | |
| Away; the rapid torrent made his knees | |
| To tremble, while it swept, where’er he trod, | |
| The earth from underneath his feet. He looked | 45 |
| To the broad heaven above him, and complained: | |
| “Will not some god, O Father Jove, put forth | |
| His power to save me in my hour of need | |
| From this fierce river? Any fate but this | |
| I am resigned to suffer. None of all | 50 |
| The immortal ones is more in fault than she | |
| To whom I owe my birth; her treacherous words | |
| Deluded me to think that I should fall | |
| Beneath the walls of Troy by the swift shafts | |
| Of Phœbus. Would that Hector, the most brave | 55 |
| Of warriors reared upon the Trojan soil, | |
| Had slain me; he had slain a brave man then, | |
| And a brave man had stripped me of my arms. | |
| But now it is my fate to perish, caught | |
| In this great river, like a swineherd’s boy, | 60 |
| Who in the time of rains attempts to pass | |
| A torrent, and is overwhelmed and drowned.” | |
| He spake, and Neptune and Minerva came | |
| Quickly and stood beside him. In the form | |
| Of men they came, and took his hand, and cheered | 65 |
| His spirit with their words. And thus the god | |
| Neptune, who makes the earth to tremble, said: | |
| “Fear not, Pelides, neither let thy heart | |
| Be troubled, since thou hast among the gods, | |
| By Jove’s consent, auxiliars such as I | 70 |
| And Pallas. It is not thy doom to be | |
| Thus vanquished by a river. Soon its rage | |
| Will cease, as thou shalt see. Meantime we give | |
| This counsel; heed it well: let not thy hand | |
| Refrain from slaughter till the Trojan host | 75 |
| Are all shut up—all that escape thy arm— | |
| Within the lofty walls of Troy. Then take | |
| The life of Hector, and return on board | |
| Thy galleys; we will make that glory thine.” | |
| Thus having spoken, they withdrew and joined | 80 |
| The immortals, while Achilles hastened on, | |
| Encouraged by the mandate of the gods, | |
| Across the plain. The plain was overflowed | |
| With water; sumptuous arms were floating round, | |
| And bodies of slain youths. Achilles leaped, | 85 |
| And stemmed with powerful limbs the stream, and still | |
| Went forward; for Minerva mightily | |
| Had strengthened him. Nor did Scamander fail | |
| To put forth all his power, enraged the more | |
| Against the son of Peleus; higher still | 90 |
| His torrent swelled and tossed with all its waves, | |
| And thus he called to Simoïs with a shout: | |
| “O brother, join with me to hold in check | |
| This man, who threatens soon to overthrow | |
| King Priam’s noble city; for no more | 95 |
| The Trojan host resist him. Come at once | |
| And aid me; fill thy channel from its springs, | |
| And summon all thy brooks, and lift on high | |
| A mighty wave, and roll along thy bed, | |
| Mingled in one great torrent, trees and stones, | 100 |
| That we may tame this savage man, who now | |
| In triumph walks the field, and bears himself | |
| As if he were a god. His strength, I deem, | |
| Will not avail him, nor his noble form, | |
| Nor those resplendent arms, which yet shall lie | 105 |
| Scattered along the bottom of my gulfs, | |
| And foul with ooze. Himself, too, I shall wrap | |
| In sand, and pile the rubbish of my bed | |
| In heaps around him. Never shall the Greeks | |
| Know where to gather up his bones, o’erspread | 110 |
| By me with river-slime, for there shall be | |
| His burial-place; no other tomb the Greeks | |
| Will need when they perform his funeral rites. | |
| He spake, and wrathfully he rose against | |
| Achilles,—rose with turbid waves, and noise, | 115 |
| And foam, and blood and bodies of the dead. | |
| One purple billow of the Jove-born stream | |
| Swelled high and whelmed Achilles. Juno saw, | |
| And trembled lest the hero should be whirled | |
| Downward by the great river, and in haste | 120 |
| She called to Vulcan, her beloved son: | |
| “Vulcan, my son, arise! We deemed that thou | |
| And eddying Xanthus were of equal might | |
| In battle. Come with instant aid, and bring | |
| Thy vast array of flames, while from the deep | 125 |
| I call a tempest of the winds,—the West, | |
| And the swift South,—and they shall sweep along | |
| A fiery torrent to consume the foe, | |
| Warriors and weapons. Thou meantime lay waste | |
| The groves along the Xanthus; hurl at him | 130 |
| Thy fires, nor let him with soft words or threats | |
| Avert thy fury. Pause not from the work | |
| Of ruin till I shout and give the sign, | |
| And then shalt thou restrain thy restless fires.” | |
| She spake, and Vulcan at her word sent forth | 135 |
| His fierce, devouring flames. Upon the plain | |
| They first were kindled, and consumed the dead | |
| That strewed it, where Achilles struck them down. | |
| The ground was dried; the glimmering flood was stayed. | |
| As when the autumnal north-wind, breathing o’er | 140 |
| A newly watered garden, quickly dries | |
| The clammy mould, and makes the tiller glad, | |
| So did the spacious plain grow dry on which | |
| The dead were turned to ashes. Then the god | |
| Seized on the river with his glittering fires. | 145 |
| The elms, the willows, and the tamarisks | |
| Fell, scorched to cinders, and the lotus-herbs, | |
| Rushes and reeds that richly fringed the banks | |
| Of that fair-flowing current were consumed. | |
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