As Menoetius’ noble son treated the stricken
Eurypylus in his tents, the Argives and Trojans
fought in close combat. The Danaan’s trench
and wide wall protected them, but not for long.
When they build the trench and wall, they
had offered the gods no great hecatombs
so they might defend and keep safe the swift
ships and ample spoils; but since it was built
against the gods’ will, it would not last long.
So long as Hector lived, Achilles raged,
and King Priam’s city remained unsacked,
the great wall of the Achaean stood firm.
But after the greatest Trojans and Argives
had fallen, and after the sacking of Priam’s
city in the tenth year of the war, and after
the Argives had returned in their ships
to their fatherlands, then Poseidon and Apollo
destroyed the wall by letting loose all the rivers
that flow from mount Ida to the sea: Rhesus,
Heptaporus, Caresus, Rhodius, Granicus,
Aesepus, divine Scamander, and Simoïs, where
many ox-hide shields and helmets fell to the dust
as well as many demigods. Phoebus Apollo
redirected all their mouths and for nine days
flooded the wall, and Zeus sent constant rain
to break the wall and wash it into the sea.
The earth shaker led them; holding a trident
in his hand, he sent into the waves the beams
and stones set there by toiling Achaeans,
smoothed the strong-flowing Hellespont,
covered the beach again with sand once
the wall was leveled, and returned the sweet-
running river waters to their former currents.

So Poseidon and Apollo were destined to do,
but now the noise of battle blazed around
the well-built wall, the beams rang when struck,
and the Argives, tamed by Zeus’ whip, were
hemmed in by their hollow ships, held by fear
of the terrifying Hector who fought, as before,
like a whirling storm. When hunters and hounds
face a wild boar or a lion who turns all around,
exulting in his might, the men line up in a wall,
stand against him, and hurl javelins at him;
and though the beast’s courage kills him,
his glorious heart neither flinches nor frights
as he turns around and challenges the line
of men, so that wherever he goes the line gives
way. So, in this way, did Hector stride through
the ranks, urging his men to cross the trench.
But the swift-footed horses baulked at the edge
of the lip, neighing and refusing to move,
for they feared that the trench was too wide
to leap over and too tough to traverse,
as the overhanging banks stood all around
on both sides, and the top was covered with huge,
sharp stakes which the Achaean sons had placed
tightly together to defend against the enemy.
A horse could not easily pull a wheeled chariot
inside, but the foot soldiers were eager to try.
So Polydamas stood beside bold Hector and said:
“Hector and other Trojan and ally leaders, it is
senseless to drive the swift horses over the trench.
It is hard to cross, for sharp stakes are placed
inside and close to these is the Achaean wall,
and chariot horses cannot descend and fight,
for it is too narrow and it will bring danger.
If loud-thundering Zeus wants to destroy
our enemy and aid the Trojans, then I eagerly
hope that this will come to pass and the Achaeans
are killed and forgotten far from Argos.
But if they should recover, forcing us away
from the ships and back to the trench, then I
fear no one will be left to bring a message
to the city once the Achaeans have rallied.
But come now and do all that I command:
let the attendants keep the horses by the trench
while we dismount, arm for battle, and follow
Hector as one, and the Achaeans will not stop
us if death’s ropes are fastened upon them.”

So Polydamas said, and the words pleased
Hector, who immediately leapt from the chariot
to the ground; and the other Trojans did not
remain on their chariots but sprang down when
they saw noble Hector on foot. Then each man
told his charioteer to hold the horses at the trench,
and the men divided into five well-ordered
companies and followed after the leaders.

Those with Hector and noble Polydamas were
the best, the most numerous, and the most eager
to break the wall and fight by the hollow ships.
Cebriones joined them as the third, for Hector
left a less skillful man back beside the chariots.
Paris, Alcathous, and Agenor led the second;
Helenus and noble Deïphobus, two sons
of Priam, led the third, and with them was
Asius, son of Hyrtacus, who brought his great
tawny horse from Arisbe by the Selleïs river.
Aeneas, noble son of Anchises, led the fourth,
and with him were Antenor’s two sons, Acamas
and Archelochus, both skilled in all fighting.
Sarpedon led the famous allies, and he chose
as his comrades Glaucus and the warrior
Asteropaeus for they seemed clearly to be
the finest after himself, but he was best of all.
They all linked their ox-hide shields and charged
eagerly at the Danaans, certain they would not
be held back but would reach the black ships.

The other famous Trojans and allies obeyed
the orders of noble Polydamas, but Hyrtacus’
son Asius, leader of men, did not want to leave
his horse and charioteer behind and so drove
straight to the swift ships, the fool, for he was
not destined to escape his black fate and return
home to windy Ilios from the ships in triumph
with his horses and chariot. Before this, his foul
destiny would envelop him through the spear
of Idomeneus, Deucalion’s noble son. He made
for the left side of the ships, where Achaean
chariots were returning from the plain, and drove
his horses and chariot to the gates and found
them neither shut nor bolted, for men held them
wide open, hoping their comrades could flee
the battle for the safe ships. He drove his horses
straight through, and his men followed, screaming
sharply and thinking the Achaeans would not
hold them back from reaching the black ships.
But they were fools, for at the gate they found
two brave and noble Lapithi warriors: mighty
Polypoetes, son of Peirithous, and Leonteus,
equal to Ares, destroyer of men. They stood
before the tall gates like two oak trees on a lofty
mountain that stand up to the wind and rain
every day because their deep, strong roots are
fixed firmly in the earth; in this way, these two,
trusting their arm strength, stood without
flinching as mighty Asius charged, along
with Iamenus, Orestes, Adamas, son of Asius,
Thoön, and Oenomaus, all of them raising
their dry, ox-hide shields, screaming loudly,
and going straight for the well-built wall.
For some time, the Lapiths were inside the wall
urging the well-greaved Achaeans to defend
the ships, but when they saw the Trojans
charge and the Danaans flee, they darted out
of the gates and fought. Just as wild swine
in the mountain, as they wait for an approaching
band of men and dogs, tear through trees
and cut them at the roots, the sound of clashing
tusks ringing out until someone spears them
and kill them, so too did the men’s bright bronze
chests clang with the sounds of spear tips as they
bravely faced the enemy, trusting in their own
might and the might of the men on the wall
who were hurling boulders from the well-built
walls and protecting the tents, the swift ships,
and themselves. Like snowflakes falling down
to the ground during a blustery gale that drives
thick, shadowy clouds over the bountiful earth,
so too did the darts rain down from Achaean
and Trojan hands alike, helmets and embossed
shields ringing harshly with each stone strike.
Then Asius, son of Hyrtacus, wailed, struck
his thigh, and spoke woeful words, saying:
“Father Zeus, clearly you are now a great lover
of lies, for I did not think the Achaean warriors
would withstand our strong, unflinching hands.
Just as a swarm of wasps or bees make a nest
on the side of a rough road, refuse to leave
their hollow home, and remain and ward off
hunters to protect their young, so these men,
though only two, refuse to surrender the gate
until they either kill or are killed themselves.”

So he said, but his words failed to move Zeus
who wished to grant great glory to Hector.

Others were fighting around the other gates,
and I would have to be a god to tell all tales:
an all-consuming fire blazing along the wall
of stone, desperate Argives defending
their ships, gods weeping in their hearts
for the Danaans they once aided in battle,
and the Lapiths fighting together in combat.

Then the son of Peirithous, mighty Polypoetes,
struck a spear in the bronze cheekpiece helmet
of Damasus, and the bronze point pierced
the helmet, shattered his bone, and spattered
his brains, destroying him in his fury; then he
killed Pylon and Ormenus. And Leonteus,
follower of Ares, killed Hippomachus, son
of Antimachus, with a spear strike to the belt.
And again he drew his sharp sword from its
sheath, rushed through the throng, and struck
first Antiphates, hurling him to the ground,
and then Menon, Iamenus, and Orestes—all
thrown to the bountiful earth, one after another.

As they were stripping their gleaming armor,
the young followers of Polydamas and Hector,
the best, most numerous, and most eager
to break the wall and set fire to the ships,
stood at the edge of the trench and paused.
An omen appeared when they desired to cross,
a soaring bird passing to the left of the men,
carrying in his massive talons a red snake
that was gasping for life but continuing
to fight, for it bent backwards and sank its
fangs into the eagle’s neck, hurting the bird
and forcing it to drop the snake into a throng
of men. Then it shrieked loudly and flew away.
The Trojans felt dread at seeing the slinking
snake lying in front of them, a sign from Zeus.
Then Polydamas came to Hector and said:
“Hector, you always chide me in assembly,
though I give good advice, since it is not right
for a commoner to question you, in council
or in war, but to always uphold your authority,
but now I shall speak as I think best. Let us
not go and fight the Danaans by their ships.
For an omen came to the Trojans when
they desired to cross over, a soaring bird
passing to the left of the men and carrying
in his massive talons a red snake, still alive,
that he dropped before reaching his nest,
thus failing to bring it back for his children.
So it will be for us, for if we smash the gates
and walls and force the Achaeans to retreat,
we will return back the same road in disarray,
leaving many Trojans behind, slaughtered
by the Achaeans defending their ships.
So a soothsayer would say, one whose mind
is open to omens and whom the people obey.”

With a scowl, glancing-helmed Hector replied:
“Polydamas, your words do not please me,
and you know better than to speak like this.
But if you are serious about what you say,
then clearly the gods have destroyed your wits,
since you order me to ignore Zeus’ counsel
which he promised me with a nod of assent.
You would urge obedience to a long-winged
bird, for I refuse to care or to think about
whether it goes to the right and the dawn’s
light or to the left and the murky darkness.
We should obey the counsel of mighty Zeus
who rules over all mortals and immortals.
One omen is best to fight for your country.
Why do you fear war and warfare? For if
we were all slaughtered around the Argive
ships, you would have no fear of dying
for your heart is not steadfast in the fight.
But if you take no part in war or if you
persuade others to turn away from war,
then a strike from my spear will end your life.”

So saying, he took the lead and they followed
with a deafening roar, and loud-thundering Zeus
roused a rushing wind from mount Ida, sending
dust against the ships, confusing Achaean
minds and glorifying Hector and the Trojans.
Trusting in his omens and their own might,
they sought to shatter the great Achaean wall.
They tore outworks, pulled down battlements,
and displaced jutting buttresses the Achaeans
had set in the earth to reinforce the wall.
They pulled these up hoping to break the wall,
but even now the Danaans gave no ground
but secured the battlements with oxen hide
and threw at the enemy who came to the wall.

The two Ajaxes roamed the walls, urging men
on and stirring Achaean might. Some were
given kind words, but others who had grown
slack in the fight were given harsh words:
“Friends, not only the finest but also the middling
and the lesser among the Achaeans, for men are
not equal in war, but now there is work for all,
which you well know. Let no man who has
heard the enemy’s shouts turn back to the ships
but press forward and urge one another on,
so Olympian Zeus may grant us to turn the tide
of battle and drive them back to the city.”

So they shouted, rousing the Achaeans
to fight. Just as snowflakes fall thick and fast
on a winter day when counselor Zeus is moved
to make snow, displaying his missiles for men,
stilling the wind and pouring flakes without pause
until the mountain peaks, rocky bluffs, grassy
valleys, and rich lands of men are all covered,
as are the harbors and headlands of the grey sea,
and though the waves beat it back, all other things
are enfolded within the driving storm of Zeus;
so also stones from both sides rain down, some
on the Trojans, some on the Achaeans, as they
cast at one another, and a din arose over the wall.

But the Trojans and bright Hector would not
have broken the walls, gates, and bars had
counselor Zeus not roused his son, Sarpedon,
against the Argives like a lion against sleek oxen.
Straightaway he held his well-balanced shield,
finely formed by the bronzesmith’s hammer,
with many ox-hides stitched together using
close-set golden wire that ran round the ring.
He held it before him, carried two spears,
and set off like a mountain lion who has gone
meatless for too long, his proud heart urging
him to go into the farm and try for the sheep,
and though he finds the shepherd guarding
the flock with dogs and spears, he refuses
to be driven away before making an attempt,
and either leaps in and carries one away,
or is himself struck by a quick, sharp spear.
So godlike Sarpedon’s spirit urged him to rush
the wall and break the battlements. Quickly,
he spoke to Glaucus, son of Hippolochus:
“Glaucus, why are we granted great honors
like prime seats, rich meat, and filled goblets
in Lycia and are looked upon as gods and are
given property by the banks of the Xanthos
with fair orchards and wheat-bearing lands?
It is so we will take a stand with Lycia’s best
and fight in this burning battle so that many
of the strong-armored Lycians would say:
‘Truly, they are not inglorious, those kings
who hold sway in Lycia; they eat fat sheep
and drink honey-sweet wine, but their honor
is strong for they fight among Lycia’s best.’
Friend, if we fled this fight and were able
to live forever, being ageless and immortal,
then I would not fight among the finest,
nor would I send you to win glory in battle;
but now the goddess of death is all around us,
and since no mortal can escape or avoid it,
let us go and gain glory or give it to another.”

So saying, Glaucus obeyed, and the two led
the great Lycian army forward. Seeing them,
Menestheus, Peteos’ son, shuddered, for they
brought trouble to his part of the wall. Peering
around for a leader who might prevent harm
coming to his comrades, he saw both Ajaxes,
insatiable fighters, standing with Teucer, who
had just come from the tents; but Menestheus’
cries could not be heard over the great noise
that rose up to the heavens: horsehair
helmets and shields clashing, gates shutting,
and the enemy standing before them, ready
to break down the gates and enter. Quickly,
he sent the herald Thoötes to the Ajaxes:
“Run, noble Thoötes, and call Ajax, or both
of them, for that would be best of all since we
are headed for utter destruction. The Lycian
leaders are bearing hard on us, and they have
long been formidable fighters in fierce combat.
But if in their place great strife has been stirred,
then at least let brave Telamonian Ajax come,
and let the skilled bowman Teucer follow him.”

So he said, and the herald heard and obeyed,
running along the bronze-clad Achaeans’ wall
until he stood beside the Ajaxes and said:
“Ajaxes, leaders of the bronze-clad Achaeans,
the son of Peteos, cherished by Zeus, urges you
to go to him for a time and face the danger there,
or both of you, for that would be best of all since
we are headed for utter destruction. The Lycian
leaders are bearing hard on us, and they have
long been formidable fighters in fierce combat.
But if in your place great strife has been stirred,
then at least let brave Telamonian Ajax come,
and let the skilled bowman Teucer follow him.”

So he said, and great Telamonian Ajax
obeyed, quickly telling the son of Oïleus:
“Ajax, you and mighty Lycomedes stay here
and press the Danaans to hold fast and fight
while I go to face the danger there, and I will
return quickly once I have come to their aid.”

So saying, Telamonian Ajax went away, joined
by Teucer, his brother of the same father,
and Pandion, who carried Teucer’s bent bow.
They went along the wall until they reached
noble Menestheus and his men who were under
siege, for Lycia’s strong leaders and rulers
were scaling the battlements like a black storm.
With a great cry, they charged into the fight.

Telamonian Ajax was first to kill a man,
Sarpedon’s friend, great-hearted Epicles, striking
him with a sharp quartz rock that was atop
the wall’s battlements. Most men, even strong
ones, would struggle to lift the rock with two
hands, but Ajax lifted it easily and threw it,
crushing his four-sheeted helmet and smashing
the bones in his head. Then he fell from the high
wall like a diver, and his soul left his bones.
Then Teucer shot Glaucus, Hippolochus’
mighty son, with an arrow from the high wall
when his arm was bare, forcing him to stop
fighting. He leapt from the wall secretly so no
Achaean would notice his injury and taunt him.
Seeing Glaucus depart quickly filled Sarpedon
with sorrow, but he did not let up on the fight,
aiming well and spearing Alcmaon, Thestor’s
son; and when he pulled out the spear, Alcmaon
fell on his face, his bronze armor clanging.
Then Sarpedon took the battlements in his stout
hands and pulled, and a whole section gave way,
creating an open space for many to pass through.

Ajax and Teucer attacked Sarpedon together.
Teucer shot an arrow into the shining strap that
held his shield to his chest, but Zeus protected
his son from dying beside the ships’ sterns.
Then Ajax leapt and speared him, but the point
failed to pierce the shield and forced him away
from the battlements. Still, Sarpedon did not
give way, for his heart was set on gaining glory,
so he turned and called to the godlike Lycians:
“Lycians, why do you relax your rushing rage?
Strong though I am, it is difficult for me alone
to break this wall and lay a path to the ships.
So join me: the more men, the better.”

So he said, and fearing his reproach, the men
brought more weight to bear around their lord.
On the other side, the Argives’ defense of the wall
stiffened, and the battle intensified on both sides.
The stout Lycians were not strong enough to break
the Danaan wall and lay a path to the ships,
nor were the Danaan spearmen strong enough
to drive the Lycians from the wall when they drew
near. Just as two men holding measuring cords
struggle over a boundary stone in a common
field, grappling in a small space over equal shares,
so the battlements separated them, and they
stretched out to tear at each other’s well-rounded,
ox-hide shields and light, fluttering bucklers.
Many were struck in the flesh by relentless bronze,
some by turning and leaving their backs open
to attack, others by strikes through the shield itself.
Blood from both sides, Trojans and Achaeans,
was spattered all along the walls and battlements.
The Trojans could not force the Achaeans to flee,
and both sides held. Just as a woman carefully
balances wool on either side of a scale, making
them equal so as to win a pitiful wage for her
children, so the two sides stood equal in battle
until Zeus granted glory to Hector, son of Priam,
who was first to break past the Achaean wall.
With a piercing shout, he called to the Trojans:
“Rise up, horse-taming Trojans, break the wall
of the Argives, and rain fire upon their ships.”

So he said, inspiring them, and they all listened
and raced for the wall en mass, wielding sharp
spears as they scaled the wall. Hector lifted
up a stone that stood at the base of the gate,
which was thick at the base but sharp on top;
two strong men of today would struggle to lift
the stone off the ground and into a wagon,
but he easily lifted it himself, for the son of wily
Cronos lightened it for him. Just as a shepherd
easily carries in one hand a ram’s fleece,
its weight making it no burden, so Hector lifted
and carried the stone to the door that guarded
the tall, tight, and sturdy double-gates that
were fitted with cross-bars to hold them shut
and fastened by a single bolt. Standing nearby
and setting his feet wide apart, he threw
at the middle with all his strength and shattered
the door hinges. The stone fell inside, the gates
groaned, the bars did not hold, and the doors
were thrown apart by the falling stone. Then
bright Hector, holding two spears in his hands,
leapt inside, his black face like the nimble
night, his bronze armor like a shining terror,
and his eyes like a blazing fire. Once he leapt
past the gates, not even the gods could stop him.
He turned around and ordered the Trojans
to scale the wall, and they obeyed his summons.
At once, some scaled the wall while others drove
through the gates, and the Danaans fled back
to the hollow ships, and a great noise arose.