Some few escaped, whom strength of fleeing feet Delivered. Yet in that sore strait they drew Peneleos from the shrieking tumult forth, And bare to the ships, though with swift feet themselves Were fleeing from ghastly death, from pitiless doom.
Behind the rampart of the ships they fled In huddled rout: they had no heart to stand Before Eurypylus, for Hercules, To crown with glory his son's stalwart son, Thrilled them with panic. There behind their wall They cowered, as goats to leeward of a hill Shrink from the wild cold rushing of the wind That bringeth snow and heavy sleet and haft.
No longing for the pasture tempteth them Over the brow to step, and face the blast, But huddling screened by rock-wall and ravine They abide the storm, and crop the scanty grass Under dim copses thronging, till the gusts Of that ill wind shall lull: so, by their towers Screened, did the trembling Danaans abide Telephus' mighty son. Yea, he had burnt The ships, and all that host had he destroyed, Had not Athena at the last inspired The Argive men with courage. Ceaselessly From the high rampart hurled they at the foe With bitter-biting darts, and slew them fast;
And all the walls were splashed with reeking gore, And aye went up a moan of smitten men.
So fought they: nightlong, daylong fought they on, Ceteians, Trojans, battle-biding Greeks, Fought, now before the ships, and now again Round the steep wall, with fury unutterable.
Yet even so for two days did they cease From murderous fight; for to Eurypylus came A Danaan embassage, saying, "From the war Forbear we, while we give unto the flames The battle-slain." So hearkened he to them:
From ruin-wreaking strife forebore the hosts;
And so their dead they buried, who in dust Had fallen. Chiefly the Achaeans mourned Peneleos; o'er the mighty dead they heaped A barrow broad and high, a sign for men Of days to be. But in a several place The multitude of heroes slain they laid, Mourning with stricken hearts. On one great pyre They burnt them all, and buried in one grave.
So likewise far from thence the sons of Troy Buried their slain. Yet murderous Strife slept not, But roused again Eurypylus' dauntless might To meet the foe. He turned not from the ships, But there abode, and fanned the fury of war.
Meanwhile the black ship on to Scyros ran;
And those twain found before his palace-gate Achilles' son, now hurling dart and lance, Now in his chariot driving fleetfoot steeds.
Glad were they to behold him practising The deeds of war, albeit his heart was sad For his slain sire, of whom had tidings come Ere this. With reverent eyes of awe they went To meet him, for that goodly form and face Seemed even as very Achilles unto them.
But he, or ever they had spoken, cried:
"All hail, ye strangers, unto this mine home Say whence ye are, and who, and what the need That hither brings you over barren seas."
So spake he, and Odysseus answered him:
"Friends are we of Achilles lord of war, To whom of Deidameia thou wast born -- Yea, when we look on thee we seem to see That Hero's self; and like the Immortal Ones Was he. Of Ithaca am I: this man Of Argos, nurse of horses -- if perchance Thou hast heard the name of Tydeus' warrior son Or of the wise Odysseus. Lo, I stand Before thee, sent by voice of prophecy.
I pray thee, pity us: come thou to Troy And help us. Only so unto the war An end shall be. Gifts beyond words to thee The Achaean kings shall give: yea, I myself Will give to thee thy godlike father's arms, And great shall be thy joy in bearing them;
For these be like no mortal's battle-gear, But splendid as the very War-god's arms.
Over their marvellous blazonry hath gold Been lavished; yea, in heaven Hephaestus' self Rejoiced in fashioning that work divine, The which thine eyes shall marvel to behold;
For earth and heaven and sea upon the shield Are wrought, and in its wondrous compass are Creatures that seem to live and move -- a wonder Even to the Immortals. Never man Hath seen their like, nor any man hath worn, Save thy sire only, whom the Achaeans all Honoured as Zeus himself. I chiefliest From mine heart loved him, and when he was slain, To many a foe I dealt a ruthless doom, And through them all bare back to the ships his corse.
Therefore his glorious arms did Thetis give To me. These, though I prize them well, to thee Will I give gladly when thou com'st to Troy.
Yea also, when we have smitten Priam's towns And unto Hellas in our ships return, Shall Menelaus give thee, an thou wilt, His princess-child to wife, of love for thee, And with his bright-haired daughter shall bestow Rich dower of gold and treasure, even all That meet is to attend a wealthy king."
So spake he, and replied Achilles' son:
"If bidden of oracles the Achaean men Summon me, let us with to-morrow's dawn Fare forth upon the broad depths of the sea, If so to longing Danaans I may prove A light of help. Now pass we to mine halls, And to such guest-fare as befits to set Before the stranger. For my marriage-day -- To this the Gods in time to come shall see."
Then hall-ward led he them, and with glad hearts They followed. To the forecourt when they came Of that great mansion, found they there the Queen Deidameia in her sorrow of soul Grief-wasted, as when snow from mountain-sides Before the sun and east-wind wastes away;
So pined she for that princely hero slain.
Then came to her amidst her grief the kings, And greeted her in courteous wise. Her son Drew near and told their lineage and their names;
But that for which they came he left untold Until the morrow, lest unto her woe There should be added grief and floods of tears, And lest her prayers should hold him from the path Whereon his heart was set. Straight feasted these, And comforted their hearts with sleep, even all Which dwelt in sea-ringed Scyros, nightlong lulled By long low thunder of the girdling deep, Of waves Aegean breaking on her shores.
