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from the field, with dragging steps, Spitting forth clotted gore, his heavy head Rolling from side to side; within his tent They laid him down, unconscious; to the ring Then back returning, bore away the cup.

 

Achilles next before the Greeks display’d The prizes of the hardy wrestlers’ skill: The victor’s prize, a tripod vast, fire-proof, And at twelve oxen by the Greeks apprais’d; And for the vanquish’d man, a female slave Pric’d at four oxen, skill’d in household work.

Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d, “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay.”

 

He said; and straight uprose the giant form Of Ajax Telamon; with him uprose

Ulysses, skill’d in ev’ry crafty wile.

Girt with the belt, within the ring they stood, And each, with stalwart grasp, laid hold on each; As stand two rafters of a lofty house, Each propping each, by skilful architect Design’d the tempest’s fury to withstand.

Creak’d their backbones beneath the tug and strain Of those strong arms; their sweat pour’d down like rain; And bloody weals of livid purple hue

Their sides and shoulders streak’d, as sternly they For vict’ry and the well-wrought tripod strove.

Nor could Ulysses Ajax overthrow,

Nor Ajax bring Ulysses to the ground,

So stubbornly he stood; but when the Greeks Were weary of the long-protracted strife, Thus to Ulysses mighty Ajax spoke:

“Ulysses sage, Laertes’ godlike son,

Or lift thou me, or I will thee uplift: The issue of our struggle rests with Jove.”

 

He said, and rais’d Ulysses from the ground; Nor he his ancient craft remember’d not, But lock’d his leg around, and striking sharp Upon the hollow of the knee, the joint Gave way; the giant Ajax backwards fell, Ulysses on his breast; the people saw, And marvell’d. Then in turn Ulysses strove Ajax to lift; a little way he mov’d,

But fail’d to lift him fairly from, the ground; Yet crook’d his knee, that both together fell, And side by side, defil’d with dust, they lay.

 

And now a third encounter had they tried But rose Achilles, and the combat stay’d: “Forbear, nor waste your strength, in farther strife; Ye both are victors; both then bear away An equal meed of honour; and withdraw, That other Greeks may other contests wage.”

Thus spoke Achilles: they his words obey’d, And brushing off the dust, their garments donn’d.

 

The prizes of the runners, swift of foot, Achilles next set forth; a silver bowl, Six measures its content, for workmanship Unmatch’d on earth, of Sidon’s costliest art The product rare; thence o’er the misty sea Brought by Phoenicians, who, in port arriv’d, Gave it to Thoas; by Euneus last,

The son of Jason, to Patroclus paid,

In ransom of Lycaon, Priam’s son;

Which now Achilles, on his friend’s behalf, Assign’d as his reward, whoe’er should prove The lightest foot, and speediest in the race.

A steer, well fatten’d, was the second prize, And half a talent, for the third, of gold.

He rose, and to the Greeks proclaim’d aloud, “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay.”

He said: uprose Oileus’ active son;

Uprose Ulysses, skill’d in ev’ry wile, And noble Nestor’s son, Antilochus,

Who all the youth in speed of foot surpass’d.

They stood in line: Achilles pointed out The limits of the course; as from the goal They stretch’d them to the race, Oileus’ son First shot ahead; Ulysses following close; Nor farther than the shuttle from the breast Of some fair woman, when her outstretch’d arm Has thrown the woof athwart the warp, and back Withdraws it tow’rd her breast; so close behind Ulysses press’d on Ajax, and his feet

Trod in his steps, ere settled yet the dust.

His breath was on his shoulders, as the plain He lightly skimm’d; the Greeks with eager shouts Still cheering, as he strain’d to win the prize.

But as they near’d the goal, Ulysses thus To blue-ey’d Pallas made his mental pray’r: “Now hear me, Goddess, and my feet befriend.”

Thus as he pray’d, his pray’r the Goddess heard, And all his limbs with active vigour fill’d; And, as they stretch’d their hands to seize the prize, Tripp’d up by Pallas, Ajax slipp’d and fell, Amid the offal of the lowing kine

Which o’er Patroclus Peleus’ son had slain.

His mouth and nostrils were with offal fill’d.

First in the race, Ulysses bore away

The silver bowl; the steer to Ajax fell; And as upon the horn he laid his hand, Sputt’ring the offal out, he call’d aloud: “Lo, how the Goddess has my steps bewray’d, Who guards Ulysses with a mother’s care.”

Thus as he spoke, loud laugh’d the merry Greeks.

Antilochus the sole remaining prize

Receiv’d, and, laughing, thus the Greeks address’d: “I tell you, friends, but what yourselves do know, How of the elder men th’ immortal Gods Take special care; for Ajax’ years not much Exceed mine own; but here we see a man, One of a former age, and race of men;

A hale old man we call him; but for speed Not one can match him, save Achilles’ self.”

 

Thus he, with praise implied of Peleus’ son; To whom in answer thus Achilles spoke: “Antilochus, not unobserv’d of me

Nor unrewarded shall thy praise remain: To thy half talent add this second half.”

 

Thus saying, in his hand he plac’d the gold; Antilochus with joy the gift receiv’d.

 

Next, in the ring the son of Peleus laid A pond’rous spear, a helmet, and a shield, The spoil Patroclus from Sarpedon won; Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d: “For these we call upon two champions brave To don their arms, their sharp-edg’d weapons grasp, And public trial of their prowess make; And he who first his rival’s flesh shall reach, And, through his armour piercing, first draw blood, He shall this silver-studded sword receive, My trophy from Asteropaeus won,

Well-wrought, of Thracian metal; but the arms In common property they both shall hold, And in my tent a noble banquet share.”

 

He said; uprose great Ajax Telamon,

And Tydeus’ son, the valiant Diomed.

First, from the crowd apart, they donn’d their arms; Then, eager for the fight, with haughty stare Stood in the midst; the Greeks admiring gaz’d.

When, each approaching other, near they came, Thrice rush’d they on, and thrice in combat clos’d.

Then through the buckler round of Diomed Great Ajax drove his spear; nor reach’d the point Tydides’ body, by the breastplate stay’d: While, aim’d above the mighty shield’s defence, His glitt’ring weapon flash’d at Ajax’ throat.

For Ajax fearing, shouted then the Greeks To cease the fight, and share alike the prize; But from Achilles’ hand the mighty sword, With belt and scabbard, Diomed receiv’d.

 

Next in the ring the son of Peleus plac’d A pond’rous mass of iron, as a quoit

Once wielded by Eetion’s giant strength, But to the ships with other trophies borne, When by Achilles’ hand Eetion fell.

Then rose, and loudly to the Greeks proclaim’d: “Stand forth, whoe’er this contest will essay.

This prize who wins, though widely may extend His fertile fields, for five revolving years It will his wants supply; nor to the town For lack of iron, with this mass in store, Need he his shepherd or his ploughman send.”

 

He said; and valiant Polypoetes rose,

Epeius, and Leonteus’ godlike strength, And mighty Ajax, son of Telamon.

In turns they took their stand; Epeius first Uprais’d the pond’rous mass, and through the air Hurl’d it, amid the laughter of the Greeks.

Next came Leonteus, scion true of Mars; The third was Ajax; from whose stalwart hand Beyond the farthest mark the missile flew.

But when the valiant Polypoetes took

The quoit in hand, far as a herdsman throws His staff, that, whirling, flies among the herd; So far beyond the ring’s extremest bound He threw the pond’rous mass; loud were the shouts; And noble Polypoetes’ comrades rose,

And to the ships the monarch’s gift convey’d.

 

The archers’ prizes next, of iron hoar, Ten sturdy axes, double-edg’d, he plac’d, And single hatchets ten; then far away Rear’d on the sand a dark-prow’d vessel’s mast, On which, with slender string, a tim’rous dove Was fasten’d by the foot, the archers’ mark; That who should strike the dove should to his tent The axes bear away; but who the string Should sever, but should fail to strike the bird, As less in skill, the hatchets should receive.

Thus spoke Achilles; straight uprose the might Of royal Teucer, and Meriones,

The faithful follower of Idomeneus.

They in a brass-bound helmet shook the lots.

The first was Teucer’s; with impetuous force He shot; but vow’d not to the Archer-King Of firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb.

The dove he struck not, for the Archer-God Withheld his aid; but close beside her foot The arrow sever’d the retaining string.

The bird releas’d, soar’d heav’nward; while the string Dropp’d, from the mast suspended, tow’rds the earth, And loudly shouted their applause the Greeks.

Then snatch’d Meriones in haste the bow From Teucer’s hand; his own already held His arrow, pointed straight; he drew the string, And to the far-destroying King he vow’d Of firstling lambs a solemn hecatomb.

Aloft amid the clouds he mark’d the dove, And struck her, as she soar’d, beneath the wing; Right through the arrow pass’d; and to the earth Returning, fell beside Meriones.

The bird upon the dark-prow’d vessel’s mast Lighted awhile; anon, with drooping head, And pinions flutt’ring vain, afar she fell, Lifeless; th’ admiring crowd with wonder gaz’d.

Meriones the axes bore away,

While Teucer to the ships the hatchets bore.

 

Last, in the ring the son of Peleus laid A pond’rous spear, and caldron, burnish’d bright, Pric’d at an ox’s worth, untouch’d by fire, For those who with the jav’lin would contend.

Uprose then Agamemnon, King of men,

The son of Atreus, and Meriones,

The faithful follower of Idomeneus:

But Peleus’ godlike son address’d them thus: “How far, Atrides, thou excell’st us all, And with the jav’lin what thy pow’r and skill Pre-eminent, we know; take thou this prize, And bear it to thy ships; and let us give To brave Meriones the brazen spear;

If so it please thee, such were my advice.”

 

He said; and Agamemnon, King of men,

Assenting, gave to brave Meriones

The brazen spear; while in Talthybius’ care, His herald, plac’d the King his noble prize.

 

ARGUMENT.

 

THE REDEMPTION OF THE BODY OF HECTOR.

 

The gods deliberate about the redemption of Hector’s body. Jupiter sends Thetis to Achilles to dispose him for the restoring it, and Iris to Priam, to encourage him to go in person, and treat for it. The old king, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his queen, makes ready for the journey, to which he is encouraged by an omen from Jupiter. He sets forth in his chariot, with a waggon loaded with presents, under the charge of Idaeus the herald. Mercury descends in the shape of a young man, and conducts him to the pavilion of Achilles. Their conversation on the way* Priam finds Achilles at his table, casts himself at his feet, and begs for the body of his son; Achilles, moved with compassion, grants his request, detains him one night in his tent, and the next morning sends him home with the body; the Trojans run out to meet him. The lamentation of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen, with the solemnities of the funeral.

 

The time of twelve days is employed in this book, while the body of Hector lies in the tent of Achilles. And as many more are spent in the truce allowed for his interment. The scene is partly in Achilles’ camp, and partly in Troy.

 

BOOK XXIV.

 

The games were ended, and the multitude Amid the ships their sev’ral ways dispers’d: Some to their supper, some to gentle sleep Yielding, delighted; but Achilles

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