How came for the helping of Troy Eurypylus, Hercules' grandson.
Rose Dawn from Ocean and Tithonus' bed, And climbed the steeps of heaven, scattering round Flushed flakes of splendour; laughed all earth and air.
Then turned unto their labours, each to each, Mortals, frail creatures daily dying. Then Streamed to a folkmote all the Achaean men At Menelaus' summons. When the host Were gathered all, then in their midst he spake:
"Hearken my words, ye god-descended kings:
Mine heart within my breast is burdened sore For men which perish, men that for my sake Came to the bitter war, whose home-return Parents and home shall welcome nevermore;
For Fate hath cut off thousands in their prime.
Oh that the heavy hand of death had fallen On me, ere hitherward I gathered these!
But now hath God laid on me cureless pain In seeing all these ills. Who could rejoice Beholding strivings, struggles of despair?
Come, let us, which be yet alive, in haste Flee in the ships, each to his several land, Since Aias and Achilles both are dead.
I look not, now they are slain, that we the rest Shall 'scape destruction; nay, but we shall fall Before yon terrible Trojans for my sake And shameless Helen's! Think not that I care For her: for you I care, when I behold Good men in battle slain. Away with her -- Her and her paltry paramour! The Gods Stole all discretion out of her false heart When she forsook mine home and marriage-bed.
Let Priam and the Trojans cherish her!
But let us straight return: 'twere better far To flee from dolorous war than perish all."
So spake he but to try the Argive men.
Far other thoughts than these made his heart burn With passionate desire to slay his foes, To break the long walls of their city down From their foundations, and to glut with blood Ares, when Paris mid the slain should fall.
Fiercer is naught than passionate desire!
Thus as he pondered, sitting in his place, Uprose Tydeides, shaker of the shield, And chode in fiery speech with Menelaus:
"O coward Atreus' son, what craven fear Hath gripped thee, that thou speakest so to us As might a weakling child or woman speak?
Not unto thee Achaea's noblest sons Will hearken, ere Troy's coronal of towers Be wholly dashed to the dust: for unto men Valour is high renown, and flight is shame!
If any man shall hearken to the words Of this thy counsel, I will smite from him His head with sharp blue steel, and hurl it down For soaring kites to feast on. Up! all ye Who care to enkindle men to battle: rouse Our warriors all throughout the fleet to whet The spear, to burnish corslet, helm and shield;
And cause both man and horse, all which be keen In fight, to break their fast. Then in yon plain Who is the stronger Ares shall decide."
So speaking, in his place he sat him down;
Then rose up Thestor's son, and in the midst, Where meet it is to speak, stood forth and cried:
"Hear me, ye sons of battle-biding Greeks:
Ye know I have the spirit of prophecy.
Erewhile I said that ye in the tenth year Should lay waste towered Ilium: this the Gods Are even now fulfilling; victory lies At the Argives' very feet. Come, let us send Tydeides and Odysseus battle-staunch With speed to Scyros overseas, by prayers Hither to bring Achilles' hero son:
A light of victory shall he be to us."
So spake wise Thestius' son, and all the folk Shouted for joy; for all their hearts and hopes Yearned to see Calchas' prophecy fulfilled.
Then to the Argives spake Laertes' son:
"Friends, it befits not to say many words This day to you, in sorrow's weariness.
I know that wearied men can find no joy In speech or song, though the Pierides, The immortal Muses, love it. At such time Few words do men desire. But now, this thing That pleaseth all the Achaean host, will I Accomplish, so Tydeides fare with me;
For, if we twain go, we shall surely bring, Won by our words, war-fain Achilles' son, Yea, though his mother, weeping sore, should strive Within her halls to keep him; for mine heart Trusts that he is a hero's valorous son."
Then out spake Menelaus earnestly:
"Odysseus, the strong Argives' help at need, If mighty-souled Achilles' valiant son From Scyros by thy suasion come to aid Us who yearn for him, and some Heavenly One Grant victory to our prayers, and I win home To Hellas, I will give to him to wife My noble child Hermione, with gifts Many and goodly for her marriage-dower With a glad heart. I trow he shall not scorn Either his bride or high-born sire-in-law."
With a great shout the Danaans hailed his words.
Then was the throng dispersed, and to the ships They scattered hungering for the morning meat Which strengtheneth man's heart. So when they ceased From eating, and desire was satisfied, Then with the wise Odysseus Tydeus' son Drew down a swift ship to the boundless sea, And victual and all tackling cast therein.
Then stepped they aboard, and with them twenty men, Men skilled to row when winds were contrary, Or when the unrippled sea slept 'neath a calm.
They smote the brine, and flashed the boiling foam:
On leapt the ship; a watery way was cleft About the oars that sweating rowers tugged.
As when hard-toiling oxen, 'neath the yoke Straining, drag on a massy-timbered wain, While creaks the circling axle 'neath its load, And from their weary necks and shoulders streams Down to the ground the sweat abundantly;
So at the stiff oars toiled those stalwart men, And fast they laid behind them leagues of sea.
Gazed after them the Achaeans as they went, Then turned to whet their deadly darts and spears, The weapons of their warfare. In their town The aweless Trojans armed themselves the while War-eager, praying to the Gods to grant Respite from slaughter, breathing-space from toil.
To these, while sorely thus they yearned, the Gods Brought present help in trouble, even the seed Of mighty Hercules, Eurypylus.
A great host followed him, in battle skilled, All that by long Caicus' outflow dwelt, Full of triumphant trust in their strong spears.
Round them rejoicing thronged the sons of Troy:
