Diomed’s Exploits and the Gods in Battle

Then Pallas Minerva put valour into the heart of Diomed, son of Tydeus, that he might excel all the other Argives, and cover himself with glory. She made a stream of fire flare from his shield and helmet like the star that shines most brilliantly in summer after its bath in the waters of Oceanus—even such a fire did she kindle upon his head and shoulders as she bade him speed into the thickest hurly-burly of the fight.

Then Pallas Minerva filled the heart of Diomed, son of Tydeus, with courage. She did so that he might surpass all the other Argives and win glory for himself. She made fire blaze from his shield and helmet like the brightest star in summer after bathing in Oceanus. Just such a fire did she kindle on his head and shoulders as she urged him into the fiercest fighting.

Now there was a certain rich and honourable man among the Trojans, priest of Vulcan, and his name was Dares. He had two sons, Phegeus and Idaeus, both of them skilled in all the arts of war. These two came forward from the main body of Trojans, and set upon Diomed, he being on foot, while they fought from their chariot. When they were close up to one another, Phegeus took aim first, but his spear went over Diomed’s left shoulder without hitting him. Diomed then threw, and his spear sped not in vain, for it hit Phegeus on the breast near the nipple, and he fell from his chariot. Idaeus did not dare to bestride his brother’s body, but sprang from the chariot and took to flight, or he would have shared his brother’s fate; whereon Vulcan saved him by wrapping him in a cloud of darkness, that his old father might not be utterly overwhelmed with grief; but the son of Tydeus drove off with the horses, and bade his followers take them to the ships. The Trojans were scared when they saw the two sons of Dares, one of them in fright and the other lying dead by his chariot. Minerva, therefore, took Mars by the hand and said, “Mars, Mars, bane of men, blood-stained stormer of cities, may we not now leave the Trojans and Achaeans to fight it out, and see to which of the two Jove will vouchsafe the victory? Let us go away, and thus avoid his anger.”

Among the Trojans was a rich and respected man named Dares, a priest of Vulcan. He had two sons, Phegeus and Idaeus, both skilled in all the arts of war. The two came forward from the main Trojan force and attacked Diomed. Diomed was on foot, while the brothers fought from their chariot. When they came close, Phegeus aimed first, but his spear passed over Diomed’s left shoulder without hitting him. Diomed then threw his spear, and his throw did not miss. The spear struck Phegeus in the chest near the nipple, and he fell from his chariot. Idaeus did not dare stand over his brother’s body to defend it. Instead, he jumped from the chariot and fled, or he would have shared his brother’s fate. Then Vulcan saved Idaeus by wrapping him in a dark cloud, so his old father would not be utterly overwhelmed with grief. But the son of Tydeus drove off with the horses and ordered his followers to take them to the ships. The Trojans were frightened when they saw Dares’s two sons, one fleeing in fear and the other lying dead beside his chariot. Minerva therefore took Mars by the hand and said, “Mars, Mars, destroyer of men, bloodstained attacker of cities. Can we not now leave the Trojans and Achaeans to fight it out? Let us see which side Jove will grant victory. Let us go away and so avoid his anger.”

So saying, she drew Mars out of the battle, and set him down upon the steep banks of the Scamander. Upon this the Danaans drove the Trojans back, and each one of their chieftains killed his man. First King Agamemnon flung mighty Odius, captain of the Halizoni, from his chariot. The spear of Agamemnon caught him on the broad of his back, just as he was turning in flight; it struck him between the shoulders and went right through his chest, and his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.

With these words, she led Mars out of the battle and settled him on the steep banks of the Scamander. Then the Danaans drove the Trojans back, and each of their chieftains killed an enemy. First, King Agamemnon knocked mighty Odius, captain of the Halizoni, from his chariot. Agamemnon’s spear struck Odius in the broad of his back just as he turned to flee. The spear hit between his shoulders and went straight through his chest. His armor clattered around him as he fell heavily to the ground.

Then Idomeneus killed Phaesus, son of Borus the Meonian, who had come from Varne. Mighty Idomeneus speared him on the right shoulder as he was mounting his chariot, and the darkness of death enshrouded him as he fell heavily from the car.

Then Idomeneus killed Phaesus, son of Borus the Meonian. Phaesus had come from Varne. Mighty Idomeneus struck him in the right shoulder with a spear as Phaesus was climbing into his chariot. The darkness of death covered Phaesus as he fell heavily from the chariot.

The squires of Idomeneus spoiled him of his armour, while Menelaus, son of Atreus, killed Scamandrius the son of Strophius, a mighty huntsman and keen lover of the chase. Diana herself had taught him how to kill every kind of wild creature that is bred in mountain forests, but neither she nor his famed skill in archery could now save him, for the spear of Menelaus struck him in the back as he was flying; it struck him between the shoulders and went right through his chest, so that he fell headlong and his armour rang rattling round him.

Idomeneus’s squires stripped him of his armour, while Menelaus, son of Atreus, killed Scamandrius, son of Strophius. Scamandrius was a mighty hunter who loved the chase. Diana herself had taught him to kill every kind of wild creature found in mountain forests. But neither Diana nor his famous skill with a bow could save him now. Menelaus’s spear struck him in the back as he fled. The spear hit him between the shoulders and went straight through his chest. He fell headfirst, his armour clattering around him.

Meriones then killed Phereclus the son of Tecton, who was the son of Hermon, a man whose hand was skilled in all manner of cunning workmanship, for Pallas Minerva had dearly loved him. He it was that made the ships for Alexandrus, which were the beginning of all mischief, and brought evil alike both on the Trojans and on Alexandrus himself; for he heeded not the decrees of heaven. Meriones overtook him as he was flying, and struck him on the right buttock. The point of the spear went through the bone into the bladder, and death came upon him as he cried aloud and fell forward on his knees.

Meriones then killed Phereclus, son of Tecton and grandson of Hermon, a man skilled in every kind of craftsmanship. For Pallas Minerva had loved him dearly. He had built the ships for Alexandrus that began all the trouble. Those ships brought disaster on both the Trojans and Alexandrus himself, because he ignored the decrees of heaven. Meriones caught up with Phereclus as he fled and struck him in the right buttock. The spear’s point passed through the bone into his bladder. Death came as he cried out and fell forward onto his knees.

Meges, moreover, slew Pedaeus, son of Antenor, who, though he was a bastard, had been brought up by Theano as one of her own children, for the love she bore her husband. The son of Phyleus got close up to him and drove a spear into the nape of his neck: it went under his tongue all among his teeth, so he bit the cold bronze, and fell dead in the dust.

Meges also killed Pedaeus, son of Antenor. Though Pedaeus was born outside marriage, Theano had raised him as one of her own children because she loved her husband. The son of Phyleus came close to Pedaeus and drove a spear into the back of his neck. The spear passed under his tongue and through his teeth, so Pedaeus bit the cold bronze and fell dead in the dust.

And Eurypylus, son of Euaemon, killed Hypsenor, the son of noble Dolopion, who had been made priest of the river Scamander, and was honoured among the people as though he were a god. Eurypylus gave him chase as he was flying before him, smote him with his sword upon the arm, and lopped his strong hand from off it. The bloody hand fell to the ground, and the shades of death, with fate that no man can withstand, came over his eyes.

And Eurypylus, son of Euaemon, killed Hypsenor, son of noble Dolopion. Dolopion had been appointed priest of the river Scamander, and the people honored him as though he were a god. Eurypylus chased Hypsenor as he fled, struck him on the arm with his sword, and cut off his strong hand. The bloody hand fell to the ground. The darkness of death covered Hypsenor’s eyes, along with the fate no one can resist.

Thus furiously did the battle rage between them. As for the son of Tydeus, you could not say whether he was more among the Achaeans or the Trojans. He rushed across the plain like a winter torrent that has burst its barrier in full flood; no dykes, no walls of fruitful vineyards can embank it when it is swollen with rain from heaven, but in a moment it comes tearing onward, and lays many a field waste that many a strong man’s hand has reclaimed—even so were the dense phalanxes of the Trojans driven in rout by the son of Tydeus, and many though they were, they dared not abide his onslaught.

So the battle raged furiously between them. You could not tell whether the son of Tydeus was more often among the Achaeans or the Trojans. He rushed across the plain like a winter torrent that has burst through its barrier in full flood. No embankments or walls around fruitful vineyards can hold back the torrent when rain from heaven swells its waters. In an instant, the torrent tears onward, destroying many fields reclaimed by the labor of strong men. Just so, the son of Tydeus sent the tightly packed ranks of Trojans fleeing. Though the Trojans were many, they dared not stand against his attack.

Now when the son of Lycaon saw him scouring the plain and driving the Trojans pell-mell before him, he aimed an arrow and hit the front part of his cuirass near the shoulder: the arrow went right through the metal and pierced the flesh, so that the cuirass was covered with blood. On this the son of Lycaon shouted in triumph, “Knights Trojans, come on; the bravest of the Achaeans is wounded, and he will not hold out much longer if King Apollo was indeed with me when I sped from Lycia hither.”

Now the son of Lycaon saw him racing across the plain, driving the Trojans before him in confusion. He aimed an arrow and struck the front of his breastplate near the shoulder. The arrow went straight through the metal and pierced his flesh, so that blood covered the breastplate. At this, the son of Lycaon shouted in triumph, “Trojan horsemen, come on! The bravest of the Achaeans is wounded. He will not last much longer if King Apollo was indeed with me when I hurried here from Lycia.”

Thus did he vaunt; but his arrow had not killed Diomed, who withdrew and made for the chariot and horses of Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus. “Dear son of Capaneus,” said he, “come down from your chariot, and draw the arrow out of my shoulder.”

That was his boast, but his arrow had not killed Diomed. Diomed fell back toward the chariot and horses of Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus. “Dear son of Capaneus,” he said, “come down from your chariot and pull the arrow out of my shoulder.”

Sthenelus sprang from his chariot, and drew the arrow from the wound, whereon the blood came spouting out through the hole that had been made in his shirt. Then Diomed prayed, saying, “Hear me, daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable, if ever you loved my father well and stood by him in the thick of a fight, do the like now by me; grant me to come within a spear’s throw of that man and kill him. He has been too quick for me and has wounded me; and now he is boasting that I shall not see the light of the sun much longer.”

Sthenelus jumped from his chariot and pulled the arrow from the wound. Blood then spurted through the hole the arrow had made in his shirt. Then Diomed prayed, saying, “Hear me, tireless daughter of Jove, who carries the aegis. If you ever loved my father and stood beside him in the thick of battle, do the same for me now. Let me get within spear’s throw of that man and kill him. He was too quick for me and wounded me. Now he boasts that I will not see the sunlight much longer.”

Thus he prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard him; she made his limbs supple and quickened his hands and his feet. Then she went up close to him and said, “Fear not, Diomed, to do battle with the Trojans, for I have set in your heart the spirit of your knightly father Tydeus. Moreover, I have withdrawn the veil from your eyes, that you know gods and men apart. If, then, any other god comes here and offers you battle, do not fight him; but should Jove’s daughter Venus come, strike her with your spear and wound her.”

He prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard him. She made his limbs flexible and his hands and feet quicker. Then she came close to him and said, “Do not be afraid to fight the Trojans, Diomed. For I have filled your heart with the spirit of your noble father Tydeus. I have also lifted the veil from your eyes so you can tell gods from men. If any other god comes here and challenges you, do not fight him. But if Jove’s daughter Venus comes, strike her with your spear and wound her.”

When she had said this Minerva went away, and the son of Tydeus again took his place among the foremost fighters, three times more fierce even than he had been before. He was like a lion that some mountain shepherd has wounded, but not killed, as he is springing over the wall of a sheep-yard to attack the sheep. The shepherd has roused the brute to fury but cannot defend his flock, so he takes shelter under cover of the buildings, while the sheep, panic-stricken on being deserted, are smothered in heaps one on top of the other, and the angry lion leaps out over the sheep-yard wall. Even thus did Diomed go furiously about among the Trojans.

After saying this, Minerva left, and the son of Tydeus returned to the front ranks of the fighters. He was three times fiercer than before. He was like a lion wounded, but not killed, by a mountain shepherd. The shepherd strikes as the lion leaps over a sheep pen’s wall to attack the sheep. The shepherd has driven the beast into a fury but cannot protect his flock. So he takes shelter in the buildings, while the abandoned sheep panic and suffocate in heaps, piled on one another. Then the furious lion leaps back over the wall of the sheep pen. Just like that lion, Diomed raged among the Trojans.

He killed Astynous, and Hypeiron shepherd of his people, the one with a thrust of his spear, which struck him above the nipple, the other with a sword-cut on the collar-bone, that severed his shoulder from his neck and back. He let both of them lie, and went in pursuit of Abas and Polyidus, sons of the old reader of dreams Eurydamas: they never came back for him to read them any more dreams, for mighty Diomed made an end of them. He then gave chase to Xanthus and Thoon, the two sons of Phaenops, both of them very dear to him, for he was now worn out with age, and begat no more sons to inherit his possessions. But Diomed took both their lives and left their father sorrowing bitterly, for he nevermore saw them come home from battle alive, and his kinsmen divided his wealth among themselves.

He killed Astynous and Hypeiron, the shepherd of his people. He struck Astynous above the nipple with his spear. He cut Hypeiron across the collarbone with his sword, severing his shoulder from his neck and back. He left both men lying there and chased Abas and Polyidus, sons of the old dream interpreter Eurydamas. They never returned for their father to interpret any more dreams, for mighty Diomed killed them. He then chased Xanthus and Thoon, the two sons of Phaenops. Both were very dear to their father, for he was worn down by age. He had no more sons to inherit his possessions. But Diomed killed both sons and left their father grieving bitterly. Phaenops never saw them return alive from battle, and his relatives divided his wealth among themselves.

Then he came upon two sons of Priam, Echemmon and Chromius, as they were both in one chariot. He sprang upon them as a lion fastens on the neck of some cow or heifer when the herd is feeding in a coppice. For all their vain struggles he flung them both from their chariot and stripped the armour from their bodies. Then he gave their horses to his comrades to take them back to the ships.

Then he came upon two sons of Priam, Echemmon and Chromius, riding together in one chariot. He leaped at them like a lion seizing the neck of some cow or heifer while the herd grazes in a thicket. Despite all their useless struggles, he hurled both men from their chariot and stripped the armor from their bodies. Then he gave their horses to his comrades to take back to the ships.

When Aeneas saw him thus making havoc among the ranks, he went through the fight amid the rain of spears to see if he could find Pandarus. When he had found the brave son of Lycaon he said, “Pandarus, where is now your bow, your winged arrows, and your renown as an archer, in respect of which no man here can rival you nor is there any in Lycia that can beat you? Lift then your hands to Jove and send an arrow at this fellow who is going so masterfully about, and has done such deadly work among the Trojans. He has killed many a brave man—unless indeed he is some god who is angry with the Trojans about their sacrifices, and has set his hand against them in his displeasure.”

When Aeneas saw him wreaking havoc among the ranks, he moved through the battle under a rain of spears. He was looking for Pandarus. When he found the brave son of Lycaon, he said, “Pandarus, where are your bow, your winged arrows, and your fame as an archer now? No man here can rival you, and no one in Lycia can beat you. So raise your hands to Jove and shoot an arrow at this man who is dominating the battle. He has done deadly damage among the Trojans. He has killed many brave men, unless he is some god angered by the Trojans’ sacrifices. If so, he has turned against them in his anger.”

And the son of Lycaon answered, “Aeneas, I take him for none other than the son of Tydeus. I know him by his shield, the visor of his helmet, and by his horses. It is possible that he may be a god, but if he is the man I say he is, he is not making all this havoc without heaven’s help, but has some god by his side who is shrouded in a cloud of darkness, and who turned my arrow aside when it had hit him. I have taken aim at him already and hit him on the right shoulder; my arrow went through the breast-piece of his cuirass; and I made sure I should send him hurrying to the world below, but it seems that I have not killed him. There must be a god who is angry with me. Moreover I have neither horse nor chariot. In my father’s stables there are eleven excellent chariots, fresh from the builder, quite new, with cloths spread over them; and by each of them there stand a pair of horses, champing barley and rye; my old father Lycaon urged me again and again when I was at home and on the point of starting, to take chariots and horses with me that I might lead the Trojans in battle, but I would not listen to him; it would have been much better if I had done so, but I was thinking about the horses, which had been used to eat their fill, and I was afraid that in such a great gathering of men they might be ill-fed, so I left them at home and came on foot to Ilius armed only with my bow and arrows. These it seems, are of no use, for I have already hit two chieftains, the sons of Atreus and of Tydeus, and though I drew blood surely enough, I have only made them still more furious. I did ill to take my bow down from its peg on the day I led my band of Trojans to Ilius in Hector’s service, and if ever I get home again to set eyes on my native place, my wife, and the greatness of my house, may some one cut my head off then and there if I do not break the bow and set it on a hot fire—such pranks as it plays me.”

And the son of Lycaon answered, “Aeneas, I believe he is none other than the son of Tydeus. I recognize him by his shield, his helmet’s visor, and his horses. He may be a god. But if he is the man I think he is, he is not causing all this destruction without divine help. Some god must be beside him, hidden in a dark cloud. That god turned my arrow aside when it hit him. I have already aimed at him and hit his right shoulder. My arrow went through the breastplate of his armor. I was sure I would send him straight to the world below, but it seems I have not killed him. There must be a god who is angry with me. “Besides, I have neither horses nor a chariot. In my father’s stables are eleven fine chariots, brand new from the builder, with cloths covering them. Beside each chariot stands a pair of horses, munching barley and rye. Before I left home, my old father Lycaon urged me again and again to take chariots and horses. He wanted me to lead the Trojans into battle with them, but I would not listen. It would have been much better if I had. But I was thinking of the horses, who were used to eating their fill. I feared they would not get enough food among such a great gathering of men. So I left them at home and came on foot to Ilius, armed only with my bow and arrows. “My bow and arrows seem useless. I have already hit two chieftains, the sons of Atreus and Tydeus. Though I certainly drew blood, I have only made them even more furious. I made a mistake taking my bow from its peg when I led my Trojans to Ilius to serve Hector. If I ever return home to see my native land, my wife, and my grand house, I will break this bow. Then I will throw it into a hot fire. May someone cut my head off on the spot if I do not. That is how badly this bow has let me down.”

Aeneas answered, “Say no more. Things will not mend till we two go against this man with chariot and horses and bring him to a trial of arms. Mount my chariot, and note how cleverly the horses of Tros can speed hither and thither over the plain in pursuit or flight. If Jove again vouchsafes glory to the son of Tydeus they will carry us safely back to the city. Take hold, then, of the whip and reins while I stand upon the car to fight, or else do you wait this man’s onset while I look after the horses.”

Aeneas answered, “Say no more. Things will not improve until we both face this man in a chariot and challenge him in battle. Climb into my chariot. See how skillfully the horses of Tros race across the plain, whether chasing an enemy or fleeing. If Jove again grants victory to the son of Tydeus, these horses will carry us safely back to the city. Take the whip and reins, then, while I stand in the chariot and fight. Or you can face this man’s attack while I handle the horses.”

“Aeneas,” replied the son of Lycaon, “take the reins and drive; if we have to fly before the son of Tydeus the horses will go better for their own driver. If they miss the sound of your voice when they expect it they may be frightened, and refuse to take us out of the fight. The son of Tydeus will then kill both of us and take the horses. Therefore drive them yourself and I will be ready for him with my spear.”

“Aeneas,” replied the son of Lycaon, “take the reins and drive. If we have to flee from the son of Tydeus, the horses will run better with their own driver. If the horses don’t hear your voice when they expect it, they may panic and refuse to carry us away. The son of Tydeus will then kill us both and take the horses. So drive them yourself, and I will be ready for him with my spear.”

They then mounted the chariot and drove full speed towards the son of Tydeus. Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, saw them coming and said to Diomed, “Diomed, son of Tydeus, man after my own heart, I see two heroes speeding towards you, both of them men of might the one a skilful archer, Pandarus son of Lycaon, the other, Aeneas, whose sire is Anchises, while his mother is Venus. Mount the chariot and let us retreat. Do not, I pray you, press so furiously forward, or you may get killed.”

They then climbed into the chariot and drove at full speed toward the son of Tydeus. Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, saw them coming and said to Diomed, “Diomed, son of Tydeus, my kindred spirit, I see two heroes speeding toward you. Both are powerful men. One is Pandarus, son of Lycaon, a skilled archer. The other is Aeneas, whose father is Anchises and whose mother is Venus. Climb into the chariot and let us retreat. Please do not charge forward so fiercely, or you may be killed.”

Diomed looked angrily at him and answered: “Talk not of flight, for I shall not listen to you: I am of a race that knows neither flight nor fear, and my limbs are as yet unwearied. I am in no mind to mount, but will go against them even as I am; Pallas Minerva bids me be afraid of no man, and even though one of them escape, their steeds shall not take both back again. I say further, and lay my saying to your heart—if Minerva sees fit to vouchsafe me the glory of killing both, stay your horses here and make the reins fast to the rim of the chariot; then be sure you spring Aeneas’ horses and drive them from the Trojan to the Achaean ranks. They are of the stock that great Jove gave to Tros in payment for his son Ganymede, and are the finest that live and move under the sun. King Anchises stole the blood by putting his mares to them without Laomedon’s knowledge, and they bore him six foals. Four are still in his stables, but he gave the other two to Aeneas. We shall win great glory if we can take them.”

Diomed looked at him angrily and answered: “Do not talk of fleeing. I will not listen to you. I come from a people who know neither flight nor fear, and my limbs are not yet tired. I have no wish to mount the chariot. Instead, I will face them as I am. Pallas Minerva tells me to fear no man. Even if one of them escapes, their horses will not carry both of them back. I have more to say, and you must take my words to heart. If Minerva grants me the glory of killing both, keep your horses here. Tie the reins to the rim of the chariot. Then be sure to seize Aeneas’ horses and drive them from the Trojan ranks to the Achaean ranks. Those horses descend from the ones great Jove gave Tros in payment for his son Ganymede. They are the finest horses alive under the sun. King Anchises secretly bred his mares with those horses without Laomedon’s knowledge, stealing their bloodline. His mares bore him six foals. Four are still in his stables, but he gave the other two to Aeneas. We will win great glory if we can capture them.”

Thus did they converse, but the other two had now driven close up to them, and the son of Lycaon spoke first. “Great and mighty son,” said he, “of noble Tydeus, my arrow failed to lay you low, so I will now try with my spear.”

As they talked, the other two had driven up close to them. The son of Lycaon spoke first. “Great and mighty son of noble Tydeus,” he said, “my arrow failed to bring you down. So now I’ll try with my spear.”

He poised his spear as he spoke and hurled it from him. It struck the shield of the son of Tydeus; the bronze point pierced it and passed on till it reached the breastplate. Thereon the son of Lycaon shouted out and said, “You are hit clean through the belly; you will not stand out for long, and the glory of the fight is mine.”

As he spoke, he readied his spear and threw it. The spear struck the shield of the son of Tydeus. Its bronze point pierced the shield and kept going until it reached the breastplate. Then the son of Lycaon shouted, “You are hit right through the belly. You will not last long, and the glory of this fight is mine.”

But Diomed all undismayed made answer, “You have missed, not hit, and before you two see the end of this matter one or other of you shall glut tough-shielded Mars with his blood.”

But Diomed, completely undaunted, answered, “You missed. You did not hit me. Before you two see how this fight ends, one of you will sate tough-shielded Mars with his blood.”

With this he hurled his spear, and Minerva guided it on to Pandarus’s nose near the eye. It went crashing in among his white teeth; the bronze point cut through the root of his tongue, coming out under his chin, and his glistening armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. The horses started aside for fear, and he was reft of life and strength.

With that, he hurled his spear, and Minerva guided it into Pandarus’s nose near his eye. The spear crashed through his white teeth. The bronze point cut through the base of his tongue and came out under his chin. His gleaming armour clanged and rattled around him as he fell heavily to the ground. The horses shied away in fear, and Pandarus lost his life and strength.

Aeneas sprang from his chariot armed with shield and spear, fearing lest the Achaeans should carry off the body. He bestrode it as a lion in the pride of strength, with shield and spear before him and a cry of battle on his lips resolute to kill the first that should dare face him. But the son of Tydeus caught up a mighty stone, so huge and great that as men now are it would take two to lift it; nevertheless he bore it aloft with ease unaided, and with this he struck Aeneas on the groin where the hip turns in the joint that is called the “cup-bone.” The stone crushed this joint, and broke both the sinews, while its jagged edges tore away all the flesh. The hero fell on his knees, and propped himself with his hand resting on the ground till the darkness of night fell upon his eyes. And now Aeneas, king of men, would have perished then and there, had not his mother, Jove’s daughter Venus, who had conceived him by Anchises when he was herding cattle, been quick to mark, and thrown her two white arms about the body of her dear son. She protected him by covering him with a fold of her own fair garment, lest some Danaan should drive a spear into his breast and kill him.

Aeneas leaped from his chariot with shield and spear, afraid the Achaeans would carry off the body. He stood over the body like a lion at the height of its strength, his shield and spear held forward. A battle cry rose from his lips, and he was determined to kill the first man who dared face him. But the son of Tydeus picked up a mighty stone. It was so huge that two men of today would be needed to lift it. Yet he lifted the stone easily by himself and struck Aeneas in the groin. The blow landed where the hip turns in the joint called the “cup-bone.” The stone crushed the joint and broke both sinews, while its jagged edges tore away all the flesh. The hero fell to his knees and braced himself with one hand on the ground until darkness covered his eyes. Aeneas, king of men, would have died then and there if his mother had not been quick to notice. His mother was Venus, Jove’s daughter, who had conceived him by Anchises when Anchises was herding cattle. She threw her two white arms around her dear son’s body. She protected him with a fold of her own beautiful robe, lest some Danaan spear him in the chest and kill him.

Thus, then, did she bear her dear son out of the fight. But the son of Capaneus was not unmindful of the orders that Diomed had given him. He made his own horses fast, away from the hurly-burly, by binding the reins to the rim of the chariot. Then he sprang upon Aeneas’s horses and drove them from the Trojan to the Achaean ranks. When he had so done he gave them over to his chosen comrade Deipylus, whom he valued above all others as the one who was most like-minded with himself, to take them on to the ships. He then remounted his own chariot, seized the reins, and drove with all speed in search of the son of Tydeus.

And so she carried her dear son out of the fight. But the son of Capaneus remembered the orders Diomed had given him. He secured his own horses away from the fighting by tying the reins to the rim of his chariot. Then he leaped onto Aeneas’s chariot and drove the horses from the Trojan ranks to the Achaean ranks. Once he had done this, he handed the horses over to his chosen companion, Deipylus, to take to the ships. He valued Deipylus above all others because Deipylus thought most like him. Then he climbed back onto his own chariot, seized the reins, and drove at full speed to find the son of Tydeus.

Now the son of Tydeus was in pursuit of the Cyprian goddess, spear in hand, for he knew her to be feeble and not one of those goddesses that can lord it among men in battle like Minerva or Enyo the waster of cities, and when at last after a long chase he caught her up, he flew at her and thrust his spear into the flesh of her delicate hand. The point tore through the ambrosial robe which the Graces had woven for her, and pierced the skin between her wrist and the palm of her hand, so that the immortal blood, or ichor, that flows in the veins of the blessed gods, came pouring from the wound; for the gods do not eat bread nor drink wine, hence they have no blood such as ours, and are immortal. Venus screamed aloud, and let her son fall, but Phoebus Apollo caught him in his arms, and hid him in a cloud of darkness, lest some Danaan should drive a spear into his breast and kill him; and Diomed shouted out as he left her, “Daughter of Jove, leave war and battle alone, can you not be contented with beguiling silly women? If you meddle with fighting you will get what will make you shudder at the very name of war.”

Now the son of Tydeus chased the Cyprian goddess, spear in hand, because he knew she was weak. She was not a goddess who could dominate men in battle, like Minerva or Enyo, the destroyer of cities. At last, after a long chase, he caught up with her. He lunged at her and drove his spear into the flesh of her delicate hand. The point tore through the divine robe the Graces had woven for her. It pierced her skin between the wrist and palm, so that immortal blood poured from the wound. This blood, called ichor, flows in the veins of the blessed gods. For the gods eat no bread and drink no wine, so they have no blood like ours and are immortal. Venus screamed and let her son fall. But Phoebus Apollo caught him in his arms and hid him in a dark cloud. He did this so that no Danaan could drive a spear into her son’s chest and kill him. As Diomed left her, he shouted, “Daughter of Jove, leave war and battle alone. Can’t you be content with deceiving foolish women? If you interfere in the fighting, you’ll suffer enough to make you shudder at the very name of war.”

The goddess went dazed and discomfited away, and Iris, fleet as the wind, drew her from the throng, in pain and with her fair skin all besmirched. She found fierce Mars waiting on the left of the battle, with his spear and his two fleet steeds resting on a cloud; whereon she fell on her knees before her brother and implored him to let her have his horses. “Dear brother,” she cried, “save me, and give me your horses to take me to Olympus where the gods dwell. I am badly wounded by a mortal, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight even with father Jove.”

The goddess went away dazed and shaken. Iris, swift as the wind, led her out of the crowd, in pain and with her fair skin all dirtied. She found fierce Mars waiting on the left side of the battle. His spear and his two swift horses rested on a cloud. She fell to her knees before her brother and begged him to lend her his horses. “Dear brother,” she cried, “save me, and give me your horses to take me to Olympus, where the gods live. I have been badly wounded by a mortal, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight even father Jove.”

Thus she spoke, and Mars gave her his gold-bedizened steeds. She mounted the chariot sick and sorry at heart, while Iris sat beside her and took the reins in her hand. She lashed her horses on and they flew forward nothing loth, till in a trice they were at high Olympus, where the gods have their dwelling. There she stayed them, unloosed them from the chariot, and gave them their ambrosial forage; but Venus flung herself on to the lap of her mother Dione, who threw her arms about her and caressed her, saying, “Which of the heavenly beings has been treating you in this way, as though you had been doing something wrong in the face of day?”

So she spoke, and Mars gave her his horses with their gold trappings. She climbed into the chariot, feeling sick and heartsick, while Iris sat beside her and took the reins. Iris whipped the horses onward, and they raced ahead eagerly. In a moment, they reached high Olympus, where the gods live. There Iris stopped the horses, unhitched them from the chariot, and gave them ambrosial feed. But Venus threw herself into the lap of her mother Dione. Dione wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked her, saying, “Which of the gods has treated you like this, as though you had done something wrong in broad daylight?”

And laughter-loving Venus answered, “Proud Diomed, the son of Tydeus, wounded me because I was bearing my dear son Aeneas, whom I love best of all mankind, out of the fight. The war is no longer one between Trojans and Achaeans, for the Danaans have now taken to fighting with the immortals.”

And laughter-loving Venus answered, “Proud Diomed, son of Tydeus, wounded me because I was carrying my dear son Aeneas away from the fighting. I love Aeneas more than anyone else in the world. The war is no longer just between Trojans and Achaeans, because the Danaans have now begun fighting the immortals.”

“Bear it, my child,” replied Dione, “and make the best of it. We dwellers in Olympus have to put up with much at the hands of men, and we lay much suffering on one another. Mars had to suffer when Otus and Ephialtes, children of Aloeus, bound him in cruel bonds, so that he lay thirteen months imprisoned in a vessel of bronze. Mars would have then perished had not fair Eeriboea, stepmother to the sons of Aloeus, told Mercury, who stole him away when he was already well-nigh worn out by the severity of his bondage. Juno, again, suffered when the mighty son of Amphitryon wounded her on the right breast with a three-barbed arrow, and nothing could assuage her pain. So, also, did huge Hades, when this same man, the son of aegis-bearing Jove, hit him with an arrow even at the gates of hell, and hurt him badly. Thereon Hades went to the house of Jove on great Olympus, angry and full of pain; and the arrow in his brawny shoulder caused him great anguish till Paeeon healed him by spreading soothing herbs on the wound, for Hades was not of mortal mould. Daring, headstrong, evildoer who recked not of his sin in shooting the gods that dwell in Olympus. And now Minerva has egged this son of Tydeus on against yourself, fool that he is for not reflecting that no man who fights with gods will live long or hear his children prattling about his knees when he returns from battle. Let, then, the son of Tydeus see that he does not have to fight with one who is stronger than you are. Then shall his brave wife Aegialeia, daughter of Adrestus, rouse her whole house from sleep, wailing for the loss of her wedded lord, Diomed the bravest of the Achaeans.”

“Bear it, my child,” Dione replied, “and make the best of it. We who live on Olympus must endure much at the hands of men. We also cause one another great suffering. Mars suffered when Otus and Ephialtes, children of Aloeus, bound him in cruel chains. He lay imprisoned in a bronze vessel for thirteen months. Mars would have died if fair Eeriboea, stepmother to the sons of Aloeus, had not told Mercury. Mercury secretly freed him when the harsh imprisonment had nearly worn him out. “Juno also suffered when the mighty son of Amphitryon wounded her right breast with a three-barbed arrow. Nothing could ease her pain. Huge Hades suffered too, when the same man, the son of Jove who bears the aegis, shot him. The arrow struck him at the very gates of hell and wounded him badly. Then Hades went to Jove’s house on great Olympus, angry and in pain. The arrow in his muscular shoulder caused him terrible agony. At last Paeeon healed him by spreading soothing herbs on the wound, for Hades was not mortal. What a reckless, headstrong evildoer, who gave no thought to his sin in shooting the gods who live on Olympus! “And now Minerva has urged this son of Tydeus to attack you. Fool that he is, he fails to consider that no man who fights the gods will live long. Nor will such a man return from battle to hear his children chattering at his knees. So let the son of Tydeus beware of having to fight someone stronger than you. Then his brave wife Aegialeia, daughter of Adrestus, will wake her whole household with her wailing. She will mourn the loss of her husband, Diomed, the bravest of the Achaeans.”

So saying, she wiped the ichor from the wrist of her daughter with both hands, whereon the pain left her, and her hand was healed. But Minerva and Juno, who were looking on, began to taunt Jove with their mocking talk, and Minerva was first to speak. “Father Jove,” said she, “do not be angry with me, but I think the Cyprian must have been persuading some one of the Achaean women to go with the Trojans of whom she is so very fond, and while caressing one or other of them she must have torn her delicate hand with the gold pin of the woman’s brooch.”

After speaking, she used both hands to wipe the ichor from her daughter’s wrist. The pain then left her daughter, and her hand healed. But Minerva and Juno, who were watching, began to mock Jove. Minerva spoke first. “Father Jove,” she said, “don’t be angry with me. But I think the Cyprian must have been persuading one of the Achaean women to join the Trojans. She is so very fond of the Trojans. And while caressing one of those women, she must have cut her delicate hand on the woman’s gold brooch pin.”

The sire of gods and men smiled, and called golden Venus to his side. “My child,” said he, “it has not been given you to be a warrior. Attend, henceforth, to your own delightful matrimonial duties, and leave all this fighting to Mars and to Minerva.”

The father of gods and men smiled and called golden Venus to his side. “My child,” he said, “you were not meant to be a warrior. From now on, attend to your own delightful duties of love and marriage. Leave all this fighting to Mars and Minerva.”

Thus did they converse. But Diomed sprang upon Aeneas, though he knew him to be in the very arms of Apollo. Not one whit did he fear the mighty god, so set was he on killing Aeneas and stripping him of his armour. Thrice did he spring forward with might and main to slay him, and thrice did Apollo beat back his gleaming shield. When he was coming on for the fourth time, as though he were a god, Apollo shouted to him with an awful voice and said, “Take heed, son of Tydeus, and draw off; think not to match yourself against gods, for men that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals.”

So they spoke. But Diomed lunged at Aeneas, though he knew Aeneas was in Apollo’s very arms. He had no fear at all of the mighty god, so determined was he to kill Aeneas and strip off his armour. Three times Diomed lunged forward with all his strength to kill Aeneas. Three times Apollo drove back Diomed’s gleaming shield. As Diomed charged a fourth time, as though he were a god, Apollo shouted in a terrifying voice. “Be warned, son of Tydeus, and fall back. Do not think you can match the gods, for men who walk the earth cannot stand against the immortals.”

The son of Tydeus then gave way for a little space, to avoid the anger of the god, while Apollo took Aeneas out of the crowd and set him in sacred Pergamus, where his temple stood. There, within the mighty sanctuary, Latona and Diana healed him and made him glorious to behold, while Apollo of the silver bow fashioned a wraith in the likeness of Aeneas, and armed as he was. Round this the Trojans and Achaeans hacked at the bucklers about one another’s breasts, hewing each other’s round shields and light hide-covered targets. Then Phoebus Apollo said to Mars, “Mars, Mars, bane of men, blood-stained stormer of cities, can you not go to this man, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight even with father Jove, and draw him out of the battle? He first went up to the Cyprian and wounded her in the hand near her wrist, and afterwards sprang upon me too, as though he were a god.”

The son of Tydeus then fell back a short distance to avoid the god’s anger. Meanwhile, Apollo carried Aeneas out of the crowd and placed him in sacred Pergamus, where his temple stood. There, inside the great sanctuary, Latona and Diana healed Aeneas and made him glorious to look upon. Meanwhile, Apollo of the silver bow created a phantom that looked like Aeneas and wore the same armor. Around this phantom, the Trojans and Achaeans hacked at the shields protecting one another’s chests. They chopped at one another’s round shields and light shields covered with hide. Then Phoebus Apollo said to Mars, “Mars, Mars, destroyer of men, bloodstained conqueror of cities. Can you not go to this man, the son of Tydeus, and drive him out of battle? He would now fight even father Jove. First he attacked the Cyprian and wounded her hand near the wrist. Then he sprang at me too, as though he were a god.”

He then took his seat on the top of Pergamus, while murderous Mars went about among the ranks of the Trojans, cheering them on, in the likeness of fleet Acamas chief of the Thracians. “Sons of Priam,” said he, “how long will you let your people be thus slaughtered by the Achaeans? Would you wait till they are at the walls of Troy? Aeneas the son of Anchises has fallen, he whom we held in as high honour as Hector himself. Help me, then, to rescue our brave comrade from the stress of the fight.”

He then sat on top of Pergamus, while murderous Mars moved among the Trojan ranks, urging them on. Mars had taken the form of swift Acamas, chief of the Thracians. “Sons of Priam,” he said, “how long will you let the Achaeans slaughter your people like this? Will you wait until the Achaeans reach the walls of Troy? Aeneas, son of Anchises, has fallen. We held him in as much honor as Hector himself. Help me, then, rescue our brave comrade from the thick of the fighting.”

With these words he put heart and soul into them all. Then Sarpedon rebuked Hector very sternly. “Hector,” said he, “where is your prowess now? You used to say that though you had neither people nor allies you could hold the town alone with your brothers and brothers-in-law. I see not one of them here; they cower as hounds before a lion; it is we, your allies, who bear the brunt of the battle. I have come from afar, even from Lycia and the banks of the river Xanthus, where I have left my wife, my infant son, and much wealth to tempt whoever is needy; nevertheless, I head my Lycian soldiers and stand my ground against any who would fight me though I have nothing here for the Achaeans to plunder, while you look on, without even bidding your men stand firm in defence of their wives. See that you fall not into the hands of your foes as men caught in the meshes of a net, and they sack your fair city forthwith. Keep this before your mind night and day, and beseech the captains of your allies to hold on without flinching, and thus put away their reproaches from you.”

With these words he filled them all with courage. Then Sarpedon sharply rebuked Hector. “Hector,” he said, “where is your courage now? You used to say you could defend the city with only your brothers and brothers-in-law, without troops or allies. I see none of your family here. They cower like dogs before a lion. We, your allies, bear the brunt of the fighting. I have come a long way, from Lycia and the banks of the river Xanthus. There I left my wife, my infant son, and great wealth that would tempt anyone in need. Still, I lead my Lycian soldiers and stand my ground against anyone who challenges me. I do this even though I have nothing here for the Achaeans to plunder. Meanwhile, you look on without even telling your men to stand firm in defense of their wives. Take care that your enemies do not capture you like men caught in a net and immediately sack your beautiful city. Keep this danger in mind night and day. Beg the commanders of your allies to stand firm without flinching, so they will no longer have reason to blame you.”

So spoke Sarpedon, and Hector smarted under his words. He sprang from his chariot clad in his suit of armour, and went about among the host brandishing his two spears, exhorting the men to fight and raising the terrible cry of battle. Then they rallied and again faced the Achaeans, but the Argives stood compact and firm, and were not driven back. As the breezes sport with the chaff upon some goodly threshing-floor, when men are winnowing—while yellow Ceres blows with the wind to sift the chaff from the grain, and the chaff-heaps grow whiter and whiter—even so did the Achaeans whiten in the dust which the horses’ hoofs raised to the firmament of heaven, as their drivers turned them back to battle, and they bore down with might upon the foe. Fierce Mars, to help the Trojans, covered them in a veil of darkness, and went about everywhere among them, inasmuch as Phoebus Apollo had told him that when he saw Pallas Minerva leave the fray he was to put courage into the hearts of the Trojans—for it was she who was helping the Danaans. Then Apollo sent Aeneas forth from his rich sanctuary, and filled his heart with valour, whereon he took his place among his comrades, who were overjoyed at seeing him alive, sound, and of a good courage; but they could not ask him how it had all happened, for they were too busy with the turmoil raised by Mars and by Strife, who raged insatiably in their midst.

Sarpedon spoke, and his words stung Hector. Fully armed, Hector leaped from his chariot and moved among the troops, waving his two spears. He urged the men to fight and raised a terrifying battle cry. Then the Trojans rallied and turned to face the Achaeans again. But the Argives stood close together and held firm, refusing to give ground. Breezes toss the chaff across a fine threshing floor as men winnow the grain. Golden Ceres blows with the wind to separate the chaff from the grain, and the chaff piles grow ever whiter. Just so, the Achaeans grew white with dust as their charioteers turned the horses back toward battle. The horses’ hooves sent dust rising to the sky, and the Achaeans charged fiercely against the enemy. Fierce Mars helped the Trojans by covering them in a veil of darkness and moving everywhere among them. Phoebus Apollo had told Mars to fill the Trojans’ hearts with courage when he saw Pallas Minerva leave the fighting. For Pallas Minerva was helping the Danaans. Then Apollo sent Aeneas out from his splendid sanctuary and filled his heart with courage. Aeneas took his place among his comrades. They were overjoyed to see him alive, unharmed, and full of courage. But his comrades could not ask how it had all happened. They were too caught up in the turmoil stirred by Mars and Strife, who raged endlessly among them.

The two Ajaxes, Ulysses and Diomed, cheered the Danaans on, fearless of the fury and onset of the Trojans. They stood as still as clouds which the son of Saturn has spread upon the mountain tops when there is no air and fierce Boreas sleeps with the other boisterous winds whose shrill blasts scatter the clouds in all directions—even so did the Danaans stand firm and unflinching against the Trojans. The son of Atreus went about among them and exhorted them. “My friends,” said he, “quit yourselves like brave men, and shun dishonour in one another’s eyes amid the stress of battle. They that shun dishonour more often live than get killed, but they that fly save neither life nor name.”

The two Ajaxes, Ulysses and Diomed, urged the Danaans on, unafraid of the Trojans’ fury and assault. They stood as still as clouds that the son of Saturn has spread over the mountaintops. The clouds stay still when the air is calm and fierce Boreas sleeps alongside the other raging winds. Those winds scatter the clouds in all directions with their piercing blasts. Just as those clouds stand still, the Danaans stood firm and unflinching against the Trojans. The son of Atreus moved among them and urged them on. “My friends,” he said, “act like brave men, and avoid dishonour in each other’s eyes in the heat of battle. Those who avoid dishonour more often live than die. But those who flee save neither their lives nor their good names.”

As he spoke he hurled his spear and hit one of those who were in the front rank, the comrade of Aeneas, Deicoon son of Pergasus, whom the Trojans held in no less honour than the sons of Priam, for he was ever quick to place himself among the foremost. The spear of King Agamemnon struck his shield and went right through it, for the shield stayed it not. It drove through his belt into the lower part of his belly, and his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.

As he spoke, he hurled his spear and struck a man in the front rank. The man was Aeneas’s comrade, Deicoon son of Pergasus. The Trojans honored him as much as Priam’s sons because he was always quick to join the front ranks. King Agamemnon’s spear struck his shield and pierced it, for the shield could not stop the spear. The spear drove through his belt into his lower belly. His armor rattled around him as he fell heavily to the ground.

Then Aeneas killed two champions of the Danaans, Crethon and Orsilochus. Their father was a rich man who lived in the strong city of Phere and was descended from the river Alpheus, whose broad stream flows through the land of the Pylians. The river begat Orsilochus, who ruled over much people and was father to Diocles, who in his turn begat twin sons, Crethon and Orsilochus, well skilled in all the arts of war. These, when they grew up, went to Ilius with the Argive fleet in the cause of Menelaus and Agamemnon sons of Atreus, and there they both of them fell. As two lions whom their dam has reared in the depths of some mountain forest to plunder homesteads and carry off sheep and cattle till they get killed by the hand of man, so were these two vanquished by Aeneas, and fell like high pine-trees to the ground.

Then Aeneas killed two champions of the Danaans, Crethon and Orsilochus. Their father was a rich man who lived in the fortified city of Phere. He was descended from the river Alpheus, whose broad stream flows through the land of the Pylians. The river was the father of Orsilochus, who ruled over many people. Orsilochus was the father of Diocles, who in turn had twin sons, Crethon and Orsilochus. The twins were skilled in all the arts of war. When the twins grew up, they sailed to Ilius with the Argive fleet. They went to fight for Menelaus and Agamemnon, sons of Atreus, and both died there. They were like two lions raised by their mother deep in some mountain forest. The lions plunder homesteads and carry off sheep and cattle until they are killed by human hands. Just so, Aeneas defeated the two brothers, and they fell to the ground like tall pine trees.

Brave Menelaus pitied them in their fall, and made his way to the front, clad in gleaming bronze and brandishing his spear, for Mars egged him on to do so with intent that he should be killed by Aeneas; but Antilochus the son of Nestor saw him and sprang forward, fearing that the king might come to harm and thus bring all their labour to nothing; when, therefore Aeneas and Menelaus were setting their hands and spears against one another eager to do battle, Antilochus placed himself by the side of Menelaus. Aeneas, bold though he was, drew back on seeing the two heroes side by side in front of him, so they drew the bodies of Crethon and Orsilochus to the ranks of the Achaeans and committed the two poor fellows into the hands of their comrades. They then turned back and fought in the front ranks.

Brave Menelaus pitied the fallen men and moved to the front in gleaming bronze armor, brandishing his spear. Mars urged him on, intending for Aeneas to kill him. But Antilochus, the son of Nestor, saw Menelaus and rushed forward. He feared the king might be harmed and all their efforts would come to nothing. As Aeneas and Menelaus raised their spears against each other, eager to fight, Antilochus took his place beside Menelaus. Though Aeneas was bold, he drew back when he saw the two heroes standing side by side before him. So Menelaus and Antilochus dragged the bodies of Crethon and Orsilochus back to the Achaean ranks. They entrusted the two unfortunate men to their comrades, then returned to fight in the front ranks.

They killed Pylaemenes peer of Mars, leader of the Paphlagonian warriors. Menelaus struck him on the collar-bone as he was standing on his chariot, while Antilochus hit his charioteer and squire Mydon, the son of Atymnius, who was turning his horses in flight. He hit him with a stone upon the elbow, and the reins, enriched with white ivory, fell from his hands into the dust. Antilochus rushed towards him and struck him on the temples with his sword, whereon he fell head first from the chariot to the ground. There he stood for a while with his head and shoulders buried deep in the dust—for he had fallen on sandy soil till his horses kicked him and laid him flat on the ground, as Antilochus lashed them and drove them off to the host of the Achaeans.

They killed Pylaemenes, equal to Mars in battle and leader of the Paphlagonian warriors. Menelaus struck him on the collarbone as he stood on his chariot. Meanwhile, Antilochus struck Pylaemenes’ charioteer and attendant Mydon, son of Atymnius, who was turning his horses to flee. Antilochus hit Mydon’s elbow with a stone, and the reins decorated with white ivory fell from his hands into the dust. Antilochus rushed at Mydon and struck him on the temples with his sword. Mydon fell headfirst from the chariot to the ground. For a while, he remained upright, his head and shoulders buried deep in the dust because he had fallen on sandy soil. Then his horses kicked him flat on the ground as Antilochus whipped them and drove them toward the Achaean army.

But Hector marked them from across the ranks, and with a loud cry rushed towards them, followed by the strong battalions of the Trojans. Mars and dread Enyo led them on, she fraught with ruthless turmoil of battle, while Mars wielded a monstrous spear, and went about, now in front of Hector and now behind him.

But Hector spotted them from across the ranks and rushed toward them with a loud cry. The strong Trojan battalions followed him. Mars and the fearsome Enyo led them on, Enyo filled with the ruthless fury of battle. Meanwhile, Mars carried a monstrous spear and moved now in front of Hector, now behind him.

Diomed shook with passion as he saw them. As a man crossing a wide plain is dismayed to find himself on the brink of some great river rolling swiftly to the sea—he sees its boiling waters and starts back in fear—even so did the son of Tydeus give ground. Then he said to his men, “My friends, how can we wonder that Hector wields the spear so well? Some god is ever by his side to protect him, and now Mars is with him in the likeness of mortal man. Keep your faces therefore towards the Trojans, but give ground backwards, for we dare not fight with gods.”

Diomed trembled with emotion when he saw them. Just as a man crossing a wide plain is alarmed to find himself at a great river’s edge, Diomed retreated. The river rushes toward the sea, and the man sees its churning waters and draws back in fear. So too did the son of Tydeus fall back. Then he said to his men, “My friends, why should we wonder that Hector uses his spear so well? Some god is always beside him to protect him. Now Mars is with him in the form of a mortal man. So keep facing the Trojans, but move backward, for we dare not fight gods.”

As he spoke the Trojans drew close up, and Hector killed two men, both in one chariot, Menesthes and Anchialus, heroes well versed in war. Ajax son of Telamon pitied them in their fall; he came close up and hurled his spear, hitting Amphius the son of Selagus, a man of great wealth who lived in Paesus and owned much corn-growing land, but his lot had led him to come to the aid of Priam and his sons. Ajax struck him in the belt; the spear pierced the lower part of his belly, and he fell heavily to the ground. Then Ajax ran towards him to strip him of his armour, but the Trojans rained spears upon him, many of which fell upon his shield. He planted his heel upon the body and drew out his spear, but the darts pressed so heavily upon him that he could not strip the goodly armour from his shoulders. The Trojan chieftains, moreover, many and valiant, came about him with their spears, so that he dared not stay; great, brave and valiant though he was, they drove him from them and he was beaten back.

As he spoke, the Trojans moved closer, and Hector killed two men riding in the same chariot, Menesthes and Anchialus. Both were heroes skilled in war. Ajax son of Telamon felt pity for the fallen men. He moved close and hurled his spear, striking Amphius the son of Selagus. Amphius was a wealthy man who lived in Paesus and owned much land for growing grain. But fate had brought him to help Priam and his sons. Ajax struck Amphius in the belt. The spear pierced his lower belly, and he fell heavily to the ground. Then Ajax ran toward Amphius to strip off his armour, but the Trojans showered Ajax with spears. Many struck his shield. Ajax planted his heel on the body and pulled out his spear. But the spears came so thick and fast that he could not strip the fine armour from Amphius's shoulders. Many brave Trojan leaders also surrounded Ajax with their spears, so he did not dare stay. Though Ajax was great, brave, and courageous, the Trojans drove him away and forced him back.

Thus, then, did the battle rage between them. Presently the strong hand of fate impelled Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules, a man both brave and of great stature, to fight Sarpedon; so the two, son and grandson of great Jove, drew near to one another, and Tlepolemus spoke first. “Sarpedon,” said he, “councillor of the Lycians, why should you come skulking here you who are a man of peace? They lie who call you son of aegis-bearing Jove, for you are little like those who were of old his children. Far other was Hercules, my own brave and lion-hearted father, who came here for the horses of Laomedon, and though he had six ships only, and few men to follow him, sacked the city of Ilius and made a wilderness of her highways. You are a coward, and your people are falling from you. For all your strength, and all your coming from Lycia, you will be no help to the Trojans but will pass the gates of Hades vanquished by my hand.”

So the battle raged between them. Soon the strong hand of fate drove Tlepolemus, son of Hercules, to fight Sarpedon. Tlepolemus was brave and tall. So the two men, the son and grandson of great Jove, approached each other, and Tlepolemus spoke first. “Sarpedon,” he said, “counselor of the Lycians, why are you skulking here when you are a man of peace? Those who call you the son of aegis-bearing Jove are lying. You are nothing like his children of old. Hercules, my brave, lion-hearted father, was very different. He came here for the horses of Laomedon. Although he had only six ships and few followers, he sacked Ilius and left its roads deserted. You are a coward, and your people are falling around you. Despite all your strength and your journey from Lycia, you will be no help to the Trojans. Instead, you will pass through the gates of Hades, defeated by my hand.”

And Sarpedon, captain of the Lycians, answered, “Tlepolemus, your father overthrew Ilius by reason of Laomedon’s folly in refusing payment to one who had served him well. He would not give your father the horses which he had come so far to fetch. As for yourself, you shall meet death by my spear. You shall yield glory to myself, and your soul to Hades of the noble steeds.”

And Sarpedon, captain of the Lycians, answered, “Tlepolemus, your father overthrew Ilius because Laomedon foolishly refused to pay him for his good service. Laomedon would not give your father the horses your father had traveled so far to collect. As for you, you will die by my spear. You will give me glory and surrender your soul to Hades of the noble horses.”

Thus spoke Sarpedon, and Tlepolemus upraised his spear. They threw at the same moment, and Sarpedon struck his foe in the middle of his throat; the spear went right through, and the darkness of death fell upon his eyes. Tlepolemus’s spear struck Sarpedon on the left thigh with such force that it tore through the flesh and grazed the bone, but his father as yet warded off destruction from him.

Sarpedon finished speaking, and Tlepolemus raised his spear. Both men threw their spears at the same moment. Sarpedon struck Tlepolemus in the middle of his throat. The spear went straight through, and the darkness of death fell over Tlepolemus’s eyes. Tlepolemus’s spear struck Sarpedon’s left thigh so hard that it tore through the flesh and grazed the bone. But Sarpedon’s father still protected him from death.

His comrades bore Sarpedon out of the fight, in great pain by the weight of the spear that was dragging from his wound. They were in such haste and stress as they bore him that no one thought of drawing the spear from his thigh so as to let him walk uprightly. Meanwhile the Achaeans carried off the body of Tlepolemus, whereon Ulysses was moved to pity, and panted for the fray as he beheld them. He doubted whether to pursue the son of Jove, or to make slaughter of the Lycian rank and file; it was not decreed, however, that he should slay the son of Jove; Minerva, therefore, turned him against the main body of the Lycians. He killed Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius, Alcandrus, Halius, Noemon, and Prytanis, and would have slain yet more, had not great Hector marked him, and sped to the front of the fight clad in his suit of mail, filling the Danaans with terror. Sarpedon was glad when he saw him coming, and besought him, saying, “Son of Priam, let me not be here to fall into the hands of the Danaans. Help me, and since I may not return home to gladden the hearts of my wife and of my infant son, let me die within the walls of your city.”

His comrades carried Sarpedon out of the fight. The spear hanging from his wound caused him great pain with its weight. In their haste and distress, no one thought to pull the spear from his thigh so he could walk upright. Meanwhile, the Achaeans carried away the body of Tlepolemus. Seeing them, Ulysses felt pity and longed to join the fight. He hesitated between pursuing the son of Jove and slaughtering the ordinary Lycian soldiers. But fate had not decreed that he would kill the son of Jove. Minerva therefore turned him against the main body of the Lycians. He killed Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius, Alcandrus, Halius, Noemon, and Prytanis. He would have killed still more if great Hector had not noticed him. Hector rushed to the front of the battle in his armor, filling the Danaans with terror. Sarpedon was glad to see Hector coming and pleaded with him. “Son of Priam, do not leave me here to fall into the hands of the Danaans. Help me. Since I cannot return home to bring joy to my wife and infant son, let me die within your city’s walls.”

Hector made him no answer, but rushed onward to fall at once upon the Achaeans and kill many among them. His comrades then bore Sarpedon away and laid him beneath Jove’s spreading oak tree. Pelagon, his friend and comrade, drew the spear out of his thigh, but Sarpedon fainted and a mist came over his eyes. Presently he came to himself again, for the breath of the north wind as it played upon him gave him new life, and brought him out of the deep swoon into which he had fallen.

Hector gave him no answer, but rushed on to attack the Achaeans at once and kill many of them. Sarpedon’s comrades then carried him away and laid him beneath Jove’s spreading oak tree. Pelagon, his friend and comrade, pulled the spear from Sarpedon’s thigh. But Sarpedon fainted, and a mist clouded his eyes. Soon he regained consciousness, for the north wind blowing over him gave him new life and ended his deep faint.

Meanwhile the Argives were neither driven towards their ships by Mars and Hector, nor yet did they attack them; when they knew that Mars was with the Trojans they retreated, but kept their faces still turned towards the foe. Who, then, was first and who last to be slain by Mars and Hector? They were valiant Teuthras, and Orestes the renowned charioteer, Trechus the Aetolian warrior, Oenomaus, Helenus the son of Oenops, and Oresbius of the gleaming girdle, who was possessed of great wealth, and dwelt by the Cephisian lake with the other Boeotians who lived near him, owners of a fertile country.

Meanwhile, Mars and Hector did not drive the Argives back to their ships, nor did the Argives attack them. When the Argives learned that Mars was fighting alongside the Trojans, they retreated but kept facing the enemy. Who, then, were the first and last men killed by Mars and Hector? They were brave Teuthras, Orestes the famous charioteer, Trechus the Aetolian warrior, Oenomaus, and Helenus the son of Oenops. Then came Oresbius with his gleaming belt. Oresbius was very wealthy and lived by the Cephisian lake, alongside the other Boeotians who owned that fertile land.

Now when the goddess Juno saw the Argives thus falling, she said to Minerva, “Alas, daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable, the promise we made Menelaus that he should not return till he had sacked the city of Ilius will be of no effect if we let Mars rage thus furiously. Let us go into the fray at once.”

When the goddess Juno saw the Argives falling like this, she said to Minerva, “Alas, tireless daughter of aegis-bearing Jove! We promised Menelaus he would not return until he had sacked the city of Ilius. That promise will mean nothing if we let Mars keep raging so furiously. Let us join the battle at once.”

Minerva did not gainsay her. Thereon the august goddess, daughter of great Saturn, began to harness her gold-bedizened steeds. Hebe with all speed fitted on the eight-spoked wheels of bronze that were on either side of the iron axle-tree. The felloes of the wheels were of gold, imperishable, and over these there was a tire of bronze, wondrous to behold. The naves of the wheels were silver, turning round the axle upon either side. The car itself was made with plaited bands of gold and silver, and it had a double top-rail running all round it. From the body of the car there went a pole of silver, on to the end of which she bound the golden yoke, with the bands of gold that were to go under the necks of the horses. Then Juno put her steeds under the yoke, eager for battle and the war-cry.

Minerva did not disagree with her. Then the majestic goddess, daughter of great Saturn, began harnessing her horses, adorned with gold. Hebe quickly fitted the eight-spoked bronze wheels on either side of the iron axle. The wheel rims were made of gold that would never perish. Bronze tires covered the rims, a wonderful sight to behold. The wheel hubs were silver and turned around the axle on either side. The chariot itself was made of woven bands of gold and silver. A double railing ran all around the top. A silver pole extended from the body of the chariot. To its end she fastened the golden yoke, with gold bands to go under the horses' necks. Then Juno put her horses under the yoke, eager for battle and the war cry.

Meanwhile Minerva flung her richly embroidered vesture, made with her own hands, on to her father’s threshold, and donned the shirt of Jove, arming herself for battle. She threw her tasselled aegis about her shoulders, wreathed round with Rout as with a fringe, and on it were Strife, and Strength, and Panic whose blood runs cold; moreover there was the head of the dread monster Gorgon, grim and awful to behold, portent of aegis-bearing Jove. On her head she set her helmet of gold, with four plumes, and coming to a peak both in front and behind—decked with the emblems of a hundred cities; then she stepped into her flaming chariot and grasped the spear, so stout and sturdy and strong, with which she quells the ranks of heroes who have displeased her. Juno lashed the horses on, and the gates of heaven bellowed as they flew open of their own accord—gates over which the Hours preside, in whose hands are Heaven and Olympus, either to open the dense cloud that hides them, or to close it. Through these the goddesses drove their obedient steeds, and found the son of Saturn sitting all alone on the topmost ridges of Olympus. There Juno stayed her horses, and spoke to Jove the son of Saturn, lord of all. “Father Jove,” said she, “are you not angry with Mars for these high doings? how great and goodly a host of the Achaeans he has destroyed to my great grief, and without either right or reason, while the Cyprian and Apollo are enjoying it all at their ease and setting this unrighteous madman on to do further mischief. I hope, Father Jove, that you will not be angry if I hit Mars hard, and chase him out of the battle.”

Meanwhile, Minerva threw her richly embroidered robe onto her father’s threshold. She had made the robe herself. She put on Jove’s shirt and armed herself for battle. She wrapped her tasselled aegis around her shoulders, with Rout encircling it like a fringe. On the aegis were Strife, Strength, and Panic, whose blood runs cold. There too was the head of the dreaded monster Gorgon, grim and terrible to see, a sign of aegis-bearing Jove. Minerva put on her golden helmet, with its four plumes and peaks at the front and back. The helmet bore the emblems of a hundred cities. Then she stepped into her blazing chariot and seized her thick, sturdy, powerful spear. With that spear she overpowers the ranks of heroes who have displeased her. Juno whipped the horses onward, and the gates of heaven roared as they flew open on their own. The Hours guard these gates and hold Heaven and Olympus in their care. They can open the thick cloud that hides Heaven and Olympus, or close it. The goddesses drove their obedient horses through the gates. They found the son of Saturn sitting all alone on the highest ridges of Olympus. There Juno stopped her horses and spoke to Jove, the son of Saturn and lord of all. “Father Jove,” she said, “are you not angry with Mars for these outrageous deeds? He has destroyed a great and splendid army of Achaeans, causing me deep grief, without either right or reason. Meanwhile, the Cyprian and Apollo sit back and enjoy it all, urging this unjust madman to cause more harm. I hope, Father Jove, that you will not be angry if I strike Mars hard and drive him from battle.”

And Jove answered, “Set Minerva on to him, for she punishes him more often than any one else does.”

And Jove answered, “Send Minerva after him, because she punishes him more often than anyone else does.”

Juno did as he had said. She lashed her horses, and they flew forward nothing loth midway betwixt earth and sky. As far as a man can see when he looks out upon the sea from some high beacon, so far can the loud-neighing horses of the gods spring at a single bound. When they reached Troy and the place where its two flowing streams Simois and Scamander meet, there Juno stayed them and took them from the chariot. She hid them in a thick cloud, and Simois made ambrosia spring up for them to eat; the two goddesses then went on, flying like turtledoves in their eagerness to help the Argives. When they came to the part where the bravest and most in number were gathered about mighty Diomed, fighting like lions or wild boars of great strength and endurance, there Juno stood still and raised a shout like that of brazen-voiced Stentor, whose cry was as loud as that of fifty men together. “Argives,” she cried; “shame on cowardly creatures, brave in semblance only; as long as Achilles was fighting, if his spear was so deadly that the Trojans dared not show themselves outside the Dardanian gates, but now they sally far from the city and fight even at your ships.”

Juno did as he had said. She whipped her horses, and the horses flew eagerly forward, midway between earth and sky. A man looking over the sea from a high beacon can see a great distance. The loudly neighing horses of the gods can cover that distance in a single leap. They reached Troy, where its two flowing streams, Simois and Scamander, meet. There Juno stopped the horses and unhitched them from the chariot. She hid the horses in a thick cloud, and Simois made ambrosia spring up for them to eat. The two goddesses then flew on like turtledoves, eager to help the Argives. They reached the place where the bravest warriors were gathered in the greatest numbers around mighty Diomed. These warriors fought like lions or wild boars of great strength and endurance. There Juno stopped and shouted like Stentor, whose booming voice was as loud as fifty men shouting together. “Argives,” she cried, “shame on you cowards, brave only in appearance. If, as long as Achilles was fighting, his spear was so deadly that the Trojans dared not leave the Dardanian gates, now they march far from the city and fight even at your ships.”

With these words she put heart and soul into them all, while Minerva sprang to the side of the son of Tydeus, whom she found near his chariot and horses, cooling the wound that Pandarus had given him. For the sweat caused by the hand that bore the weight of his shield irritated the hurt: his arm was weary with pain, and he was lifting up the strap to wipe away the blood. The goddess laid her hand on the yoke of his horses and said, “The son of Tydeus is not such another as his father. Tydeus was a little man, but he could fight, and rushed madly into the fray even when I told him not to do so. When he went all unattended as envoy to the city of Thebes among the Cadmeans, I bade him feast in their houses and be at peace; but with that high spirit which was ever present with him, he challenged the youth of the Cadmeans, and at once beat them in all that he attempted, so mightily did I help him. I stand by you too to protect you, and I bid you be instant in fighting the Trojans; but either you are tired out, or you are afraid and out of heart, and in that case I say that you are no true son of Tydeus the son of Oeneus.”

With these words she filled them all with courage, while Minerva hurried to the side of the son of Tydeus. She found him near his chariot and horses, cooling the wound Pandarus had given him. Sweat from the hand bearing the weight of his shield irritated the wound. His arm ached and was tired, and he was lifting the shield strap to wipe away the blood. The goddess laid her hand on the yoke of his horses and said, “The son of Tydeus is nothing like his father. Tydeus was a small man, but he could fight. He rushed wildly into battle even when I told him not to. When he went alone as an envoy to the city of Thebes among the Cadmeans, I gave him instructions. I told him to feast in their houses and keep the peace. But with his ever-present fighting spirit, he challenged the young men of the Cadmeans. He immediately beat them in every contest he tried, so powerful was my help. I stand beside you too, to protect you, and I urge you to fight the Trojans without delay. But either you are worn out, or you are afraid and have lost courage. If so, I say you are no true son of Tydeus, son of Oeneus.”

Diomed answered, “I know you, goddess, daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, and will hide nothing from you. I am not afraid nor out of heart, nor is there any slackness in me. I am only following your own instructions; you told me not to fight any of the blessed gods; but if Jove’s daughter Venus came into battle I was to wound her with my spear. Therefore I am retreating, and bidding the other Argives gather in this place, for I know that Mars is now lording it in the field.”

Diomed answered, “I know you, goddess, daughter of Jove, who carries the aegis. I will hide nothing from you. I am not afraid or discouraged, and I am not holding back. I am only following your own instructions. You told me not to fight any of the blessed gods. But if Jove’s daughter Venus entered the battle, I was to wound her with my spear. That is why I am retreating and telling the other Argives to gather here. For I know that Mars is now dominating the battlefield.”

“Diomed, son of Tydeus,” replied Minerva, “man after my own heart, fear neither Mars nor any other of the immortals, for I will befriend you. Nay, drive straight at Mars, and smite him in close combat; fear not this raging madman, villain incarnate, first on one side and then on the other. But now he was holding talk with Juno and myself, saying he would help the Argives and attack the Trojans; nevertheless he is with the Trojans, and has forgotten the Argives.”

“Diomed, son of Tydeus,” Minerva replied, “you are a man after my own heart. Fear neither Mars nor any other immortal, for I will help you. Go straight at Mars and strike him in close combat. Do not fear this raging madman, this villain through and through, who fights first for one side, then the other. Just now, he was talking with Juno and me. He said he would help the Argives and attack the Trojans. Yet now he is fighting for the Trojans and has forgotten the Argives.”

With this she caught hold of Sthenelus and lifted him off the chariot on to the ground. In a second he was on the ground, whereupon the goddess mounted the car and placed herself by the side of Diomed. The oaken axle groaned aloud under the burden of the awful goddess and the hero; Pallas Minerva took the whip and reins, and drove straight at Mars. He was in the act of stripping huge Periphas, son of Ochesius and bravest of the Aetolians. Bloody Mars was stripping him of his armour, and Minerva donned the helmet of Hades, that he might not see her; when, therefore, he saw Diomed, he made straight for him and let Periphas lie where he had fallen. As soon as they were at close quarters he let fly with his bronze spear over the reins and yoke, thinking to take Diomed’s life, but Minerva caught the spear in her hand and made it fly harmlessly over the chariot. Diomed then threw, and Pallas Minerva drove the spear into the pit of Mars’s stomach where his under-girdle went round him. There Diomed wounded him, tearing his fair flesh and then drawing his spear out again. Mars roared as loudly as nine or ten thousand men in the thick of a fight, and the Achaeans and Trojans were struck with panic, so terrible was the cry he raised.

With that, she grabbed Sthenelus and lifted him from the chariot to the ground. In a second he was on the ground, and the goddess climbed into the chariot beside Diomed. The oak axle groaned loudly under the weight of the fearsome goddess and the hero. Pallas Minerva took the whip and reins and drove straight at Mars. He was stripping the armor from huge Periphas, son of Ochesius and the bravest of the Aetolians. While bloody Mars stripped him, Minerva put on the helmet of Hades so Mars would not see her. So when Mars saw Diomed, he charged straight at him, leaving Periphas where he had fallen. As soon as they came close, Mars hurled his bronze spear over the reins and yoke, intending to kill Diomed. But Minerva caught the spear in her hand and sent it flying harmlessly over the chariot. Diomed then threw his spear, and Pallas Minerva drove it into Mars’s lower belly, where his inner belt wrapped around him. Diomed wounded Mars there, tearing his beautiful flesh, then pulled his spear out again. Mars roared as loudly as nine or ten thousand men in the thick of battle. His cry was so terrible that both the Achaeans and the Trojans were struck with panic.

As a dark cloud in the sky when it comes on to blow after heat, even so did Diomed son of Tydeus see Mars ascend into the broad heavens. With all speed he reached high Olympus, home of the gods, and in great pain sat down beside Jove the son of Saturn. He showed Jove the immortal blood that was flowing from his wound, and spoke piteously, saying, “Father Jove, are you not angered by such doings? We gods are continually suffering in the most cruel manner at one another’s hands while helping mortals; and we all owe you a grudge for having begotten that mad termagant of a daughter, who is always committing outrage of some kind. We other gods must all do as you bid us, but her you neither scold nor punish; you encourage her because the pestilent creature is your daughter. See how she has been inciting proud Diomed to vent his rage on the immortal gods. First he went up to the Cyprian and wounded her in the hand near her wrist, and then he sprang upon me too as though he were a god. Had I not run for it I must either have lain there for long enough in torments among the ghastly corpses, or have been eaten alive with spears till I had no more strength left in me.”

Diomed son of Tydeus saw Mars rise into the vast heavens like a dark cloud as wind follows heat. Mars hurried to high Olympus, home of the gods. In great pain, he sat down beside Jove the son of Saturn. He showed Jove the immortal blood flowing from his wound and spoke pitifully, saying, “Father Jove, aren’t you angry at such behavior? We gods are constantly suffering the cruelest treatment from one another while helping mortals. And we all hold a grudge against you for fathering that mad, vicious daughter. She is always committing some outrage. All the rest of us gods must do as you tell us. But you neither scold nor punish her. You encourage her because the vile creature is your daughter. Look how she has been urging proud Diomed to unleash his rage on the immortal gods. First he approached the Cyprian and wounded her hand near the wrist. Then he attacked me too, as though he were a god. If I hadn’t fled, I would either have lain in agony among those ghastly corpses for a long time. Or spears would have torn me apart alive until I had no strength left.”

Jove looked angrily at him and said, “Do not come whining here, Sir Facing-both-ways. I hate you worst of all the gods in Olympus, for you are ever fighting and making mischief. You have the intolerable and stubborn spirit of your mother Juno: it is all I can do to manage her, and it is her doing that you are now in this plight: still, I cannot let you remain longer in such great pain; you are my own offspring, and it was by me that your mother conceived you; if, however, you had been the son of any other god, you are so destructive that by this time you should have been lying lower than the Titans.”

Jove looked at him angrily and said, “Do not come whining here, you two-faced fool. I hate you more than all the other gods in Olympus because you are always fighting and causing trouble. You have your mother Juno’s unbearable, stubborn nature. I can barely keep her under control, and she is the reason you are suffering now. Still, I cannot leave you in such terrible pain any longer. You are my own child, and I am the one who made your mother pregnant with you. But if you had been another god’s son, your destructiveness would have earned you a place below even the Titans.”

He then bade Paeeon heal him, whereon Paeeon spread pain-killing herbs upon his wound and cured him, for he was not of mortal mould. As the juice of the fig-tree curdles milk, and thickens it in a moment though it is liquid, even so instantly did Paeeon cure fierce Mars. Then Hebe washed him, and clothed him in goodly raiment, and he took his seat by his father Jove all glorious to behold.

He then told Paeeon to heal him. So Paeeon spread pain-killing herbs on his wound and healed him, for he was not mortal. Just as fig-tree juice instantly thickens liquid milk into curds, Paeeon healed fierce Mars in an instant. Then Hebe washed him and dressed him in fine clothes. He took his seat beside his father Jove, looking glorious.

But Juno of Argos and Minerva of Alalcomene, now that they had put a stop to the murderous doings of Mars, went back again to the house of Jove.

But Juno of Argos and Minerva of Alalcomene had now put a stop to Mars's murderous acts. With that done, they returned to Jove's house.