Once the Trojans had fled past the trench
and stakes, many having been slain by Danaan
hands, they stopped by the chariots and remained
there, pale with panic and terror. Then Zeus
awoke atop mount Ida, beside golden-throned
Hera, and sprang to his feet, for he saw the Trojans
in flight, pursued by the Achaeans with lord
Poseidon among them. He also saw Hector
lying in the plain, surrounded by his comrades,
in great pain, panting, and vomiting up blood,
since he had been struck by a strong Achaean.
Seeing this, the father of gods and men felt pity,
looked scowlingly at Hera, and said to her:
“Troublesome Hera, your evil plans made noble
Hector stop fighting and his men flee, and you
will be the first to reap the fruits of these wicked
plans when I beat you with whips. Remember
when I hung you on high, your feet tied to anvils
and your wrists bound by an unbreakable band
of gold? You hung in the heavens with the clouds,
and though all the Olympian gods protested,
they could not set you free; when they tried,
I threw them from the threshold, and they fell
feebly to the earth. Still, my heart continued
to grieve for godlike Herakles, for you
and Boreas, whose hurricane you harnessed,
deliberately sent him across barren waters
that carried him to well-peopled Cos. Though
I rescued and returned him to the horselands
of Argos, he suffered much. I say all this
so you will end your deceit and find out if you
are rescued by our lovemaking in bed after
leaving the gods to come here and deceive me.”

So he said, and ox-eyed Hera, shuddering
with fear, spoke to him with winged words:
“Let Gaia bear witness, along with Ouranos
above and the flowing waters of the Styx
below, which is the greatest, most revered oath
for a god, and let your sacred head be witness,
and also our marriage bed, a thing I would never
swear lightly, that it is not by my will that earth-
shaker Poseidon torments the Trojans and Hector
and aids their enemies but by his own heart’s
will, for he saw the Achaeans in distress
by their ships and pitied them. But I would urge
him to follow your commands, lord of clouds.”

Saying this, the father of gods and mortals smiled
and answered her, telling her with winged words:
“Ox-eyed queen Hera, if you were ever inclined
to think as I do when seated among the immortals,
then Poseidon would quickly follow your heart
and mine, though he would not wish to do so.
But if what you say is right and true, then go
now among the race of gods and summon
Iris and Apollo, famed for his bow, to come
here. Iris can go among the bronze-clad
Achaean army and tell lord Poseidon to cease
his fighting and to return home, and Phoebus
Apollo can rouse Hector’s strength, remove
the fear that now fills his mind, and send him
out to fight. Then he can send feeble fear
to the Achaeans so they retreat to the many-
benched ships of Achilles, son of Peleus.
Achilles will then rouse his comrade Patroclus,
who will be slain by the spear of divine Hector
in front of Ilios, but not before he kills many
others, including my son, noble Sarpedon.
Enraged by this, great Achilles will kill Hector.
From then on, I will keep the Trojans moving
away from the vessels until the Achaeans take
steep Ilios through Athena’s counsel. But until
then, my anger will not end, and I will not
allow any gods to assist the Danaans until
the wish of Peleus’ son is fulfilled, a promise
I made with a bow of my head on the day
the goddess Thetis sat clutching my knee,
begging me to honor Achilles, sacker of cities.”

So he said, and white-armed Hera obeyed,
going from the peaks of Ida to high Olympus.
Just as the mind of a man who has travelled
to many lands can quickly recall with astute
detail the many places that he has visited,
so queen Hera sped quickly and eagerly away.
Reaching high Olympus, she found the immortal
gods gathered in Zeus’ house. Seeing her, they
sprang up and lifted their cups in welcome.
She passed by the others and took the cup
of fair-cheeked Themis, who was first to reach
her and who spoke to her with winged words:
“Why have you come, Hera? You look upset;
your husband, Cronos’ son, must have scared you.”

Then the white-armed goddess Hera replied:
“Goddess Themis, do not ask me about this.
You know how reckless and cruel his heart is.
For now, ready an equal feast for the gods
in the halls. You and all the immortals will
soon hear Zeus reveal his wicked plans. Few
hearts will rejoice at his words, either mortal
or immortal, if some are feasting merrily now.”

So honored Hera said and then sat down,
but the gods in the halls of Zeus were troubled.
And though her lips smiled, Hera’s dark brows
were unbent, and she spoke vexedly to all:
“We are childish fools to be enraged by Zeus.
We go to him in hopes of changing his mind
by word or by force, but he just sits alone,
ignoring us, saying that among the immortal
gods his strength and might are greatest.
So content yourself with whatever evil he sends.
Already I think misery has fallen upon Ares,
for his dearest son has been killed in battle:
Ascalaphus, whom mighty Ares calls his own.”

So she said, but stout Ares struck his thighs
with the flats of his hands and cried out in agony:
“Gods of Olympus, do not censure me if I go
to the Achaean ships and avenge my son’s death,
even if it results in a bolt from Zeus that leaves
me sitting among the blood and dead and dust.”

So saying, he ordered Terror and Fear to yoke
his horses, and he himself put on his shining
armor. Then anger and strife would have grown
between the immortals and Zeus had Athena,
deathly afraid for all the gods, not gone quickly
from her throne, rushed through the doorway,
seized the helmet from the head of Ares,
the shield from his shoulders, and the bronze spear
from his stout hand, and rebuked him, saying:
“Madman, have you lost your mind? Your ears
still hear, but your mind and good sense are gone.
Did you not hear the words of white-armed Hera
who has just returned from Olympian Zeus?
Do you wish to take your fill of misery only
to be forced back to Olympus where you will
sow seeds of great grief among all the others?
He will leave the noble Trojans and Achaeans,
come straight to Olympus, and wreak havoc
on all of us, both the guilty and the innocent.
I urge you to let go of your anger for your son.
Men with greater strength than your son have
already died or will soon die. It is difficult
to save the bloodlines and offspring of all men.”

She finished and made Ares return to his seat.
Then Hera called Apollo out of the house
along with Iris, the messenger of the gods,
and spoke to them with winged words, saying:
“Zeus orders you both to head quickly to Ida.
Once you have arrived and have looked Zeus
in the eye, then do whatever he commands.”

Then honored Hera returned to her throne
while Iris and Apollo flew swiftly away.
They reached Ida of many springs, mother
of beasts, and found far-seeing Zeus seated
atop Gargaron, surrounded by fragrant clouds.
They stood before cloud-gatherer Zeus, who
was not angered by their sight since they had
quickly obeyed the orders of his dear wife.
First, he addressed Iris with winged words:
“Go now, swift Iris, and report this message
to lord Poseidon, and do not speak falsely:
order him to stop warring and to return
to the race of gods or to the bright sea. If he
disobeys or dismisses my words, then let him
consider in his mind and heart that, strong
as he is, he cannot stand against me since
I am far greater than he and older by birth,
though he never hesitates in his heart to declare
himself equal to me, whom the other gods fear.”

So he said, and swift-footed Iris did not disobey
but went straight from the hills of Ida to sacred
Ilios. Just as snow and hail fly from clouds
driven by the cold, bright blast of the north wind,
so swift Iris flew with eager purpose until she
stood beside the great earth-shaker and said:
“Earth-mover, dark of hair, I come bearing
a message for you from aegis-bearing Zeus.
He orders you to stop warring and return
to the race of gods or to the bright sea. If you
disobey or dismiss his words, then he threatens
to come here and face you in combat, and he
warns that you keep out of reach of his hands
since he is greater than you and older by birth,
though you never hesitate in your heart to declare
yourself equal to him, whom the other gods fear.”

Greatly angered, the revered earth-shaker replied:
“Clearly, though noble, he speaks arrogantly if he
thinks to restrain me, his equal, against my will.
For three brothers were born of Cronos and Rhea:
Zeus, myself, and Hades, lord of the underworld.
All things were divided into three equal shares.
By lots I was granted the grey sea as my domain,
Hades the murky darkness, and Zeus the wide
heavens, clouds, and air, while the earth and high
Olympus are common to us all. Thus I refuse
to live by the will of Zeus. No matter his strength,
let him be content with his share and not use
his mighty hands to frighten me like some coward.
It would be better for him to save these threats
for his daughters and sons; he brought them into
this world, so they are obligated to obey him.”

Then wind-swift Iris replied to him, saying:
“Dark-haired earth-embracer, shall I carry
these bold, unbending words to Zeus, or will
you change your mind? Good minds are pliant.
You know the Furies always serve the old man.”

In reply, earth-shaker Poseidon said to her:
“Goddess Iris, your words are wise, and it is
good when a messenger knows what is right.
But dread pain overwhelms my heart and soul
when Zeus speaks words of anger to his twin,
whom fate has decreed an equal portion.
Still, despite my anger, I will retire for now,
but I will tell you this, a threat from my heart:
if, without me, Athena driver of spoils, Hera,
Hermes, and lord Hephaestus, he spares lofty
Ilios and refuses to sack it or give great honor
to the Argives, then let him know there will be
strife between us that will never be appeased.”

So saying, Poseidon left the Achaeans and plunged
into the sea, and the Achaean warriors felt his loss.

Then cloud-gatherer Zeus said to Apollo:
“Go now, dear Phoebus, to bronze-clad Hector,
for the earth-mover and earth-shaker has gone
to the heavenly sea, thus avoiding our harsh
wrath. True, even the gods gathered below
with Cronos would have heard about our fight,
but it is better for us both that he curbed
his rage and bent to my will, for the matter
would not have been settled without some sweat.
Now, take the tasseled aegis in your hands
and shake it to frighten the Achaean warriors.
Then you, far-shooter, take care of shining Hector
and rouse his rage until the Achaeans are fleeing
to their ships and the Hellespont. From there,
I will devise word and deed so the Achaeans
might again find breathing space from war.”

So he said, and Apollo did not disobey his father
but flew from mount Ida like a swift, dove-killing
falcon, the fastest of winged creatures. He found
noble Hector, son of skilled Priam, not prone
but seated, recovering his spirit and recognizing
his companions; and his panting and gasping
ceased once aegis-bearing Zeus’ mind revived him.
Then far-seeing Apollo came to him and said:
“Hector, son of Priam, why do you sit here
helpless and alone? Has some pain fallen on you?”

Weakly, glancing-helmed Hector replied to him:
“What noble god are you to ask this to my face?
Did you not see, as I killed his comrades at the stern
of the Achaean ships, war-crier Ajax hurl a boulder
at my chest, forcing me to stop fighting? I thought
the day had come for me to take my last breath
and to look upon the dead and the house of Hades.”

Then lord Apollo, the far-worker, answered him:
“Take heart, for Cronos has sent help down
from Ida to stand by you and protect you: Phoebus
Apollo of the golden sword, who in the past
has defended both you and your steep citadel.
But come now and urge your many charioteers
to drive their swift horses to the hollowed ships
while I go ahead, smoothing the chariots’ path
and sending the Achaean warriors into panic.”

So saying, he breathed great might into the herder
of men. As when a well-fed, stabled horse breaks
his bonds, darts over the plain to his regular
bathing spot on the fair-flowing river, lifts
his head high in exultation, lets his mane flow
over his shoulders, and revels in his beauty
as his legs carry him to the mares’ pasture,
so Hector, having heard the god’s voice, swiftly
moved his feet and legs and roused his charioteers.
As when country men and their dogs, in pursuit
of a horned deer or a wild goat, reach a steep rock
or thorny brush that saves the animal and foils
their hunt, for their shouting stirs a bearded
lion who steps into their path and quickly
forces them to flee, so the Danaans for a time
moved en mass, thrusting out their swords
and double-edged spears, but upon seeing
Hector attack the ranks of men, they recoiled
with fear as each man’s heart fell to his feet.

Then Thoas spoke, Andraemon’s son, the best
of the Aetolians: skilled with the spear, strong
in close-fighting, and an orator with few peers
when young Achaeans debated in assembly.
With good intentions he said to the assembled:
“Alas, my eyes behold a great wonder: Hector
once again on his feet, forsaking a deadly fate.
Surely each man’s heart had hoped that he had
been killed by Telamonian Ajax. But again
some god has saved Hector, who has cut down
so many Danaans in the past and is set
to do so again, for he stands there eagerly
as the champion of loud-thundering Zeus.
But, come now, and let all obey my words:
order the multitudes to head for the ships
while we, who claim to be the army’s best,
stand firm, face him, raise our spears, and halt
his progress, for I think, in spite of his rage,
he is still afraid to sink into the Danaan throng.”

So he spoke, and they eagerly listened
and obeyed. Ajax, lord Idomeneus, Teucer,
Meriones, and Meges, equal to Ares,
assembled a great fighting force that was
prepared to face Hector and the Trojans while
the multitudes returned to the Achaean ships.

The Trojans advanced as one, led by long-striding
Hector. Before him went Phoebus Apollo,
shoulders clad in clouds and wielding the terrible
aegis, hairy and bright, which the smith Hephaestus
gave to Zeus to carry in the rout of warriors.
He held this in his hands as he led the army.

The Argives held their ground, their shrill war
cries echoing around them as arrows sprang
from bows, and many spears, shot by stout hands,
pierced the skin of swift-fighting young men
while others missed the white flesh they so eagerly
sought and fixed themselves midway in the earth.
So long as Phoebus Apollo held the aegis motionless
in his hands, the missiles hit their marks and men fell.
But when he looked directly at the Danaans, shook
the aegis, and uttered a great cry, then their hearts
became bewitched and they lost the will to fight.
As when two wild animals suddenly appear
in the black of night and attack a herd of oxen
or a flock of sheep and drive them into panic,
so Apollo’s terror drove the Achaeans into panic
and brought glory to the Trojans and Hector.

Hector struck Stichius and Arcesilaus: one
a leader of the bronze-clad Boeotians, the other
a trusted friend of great-hearted Menestheus.
And Aeneas killed Medon and Iasus. Medon
was the bastard son of Oïleus and brother
of Ajax, who lived in Phylace, a land far
from his father’s home because he killed
a kinsman of Eriopis, the wife of Oïleus,
while Iasus led the Athenians and was called
the son of Sphelus, who was the son of Bucolus.
And Polydamas cut down Mecisteus, Polites
slew Echius among the foremost fighters, noble
Agenor killed Clonius, and Paris hit Deïochus
from behind on his lower shoulder as he fled
the fight, and the bronze drove clean through.

As the Trojans stripped the armor, the Achaeans
took flight, diving into the trench, pushing
past the palisades, and falling over the wall.
But Hector gave a great cry, telling the Trojans:
“Leave the bloody armor and hurry to the ships.
If I see a man heading away from the ships,
then I will send him to his death, and his kin
will receive no corpse to burn in offering,
for dogs will devour him in front of the city.”

So saying, he whipped his horses and stirred
the Trojan ranks, who shouted as one and drove
their chariots forward with a thunderous roar.
Ahead of them, Phoebus Apollo tore easily
into the deep trench, his feet pushing earth
into the pit to create a broad causeway that was
as long as a spear cast when thrown by a man
who seeks to measure his strength. With Apollo
leading and holding the aegis, they poured
over the causeway in formation and toppled
the Achaean wall with the ease of a child who
builds a sand-castle by the seashore and then
playfully destroys it with his hands and feet.
Thus lord Apollo leveled the long and difficult
labors of the Achaeans and sent them into panic.

When the Argives halted beside the ships,
they lifted their hands to all of the gods
and shouted in prayer, especially Nestor
of Gerenia, guardian of the Achaeans, who
raised his hands to the starry skies and cried:
“Father Zeus, if any in Argos ever prayed
to you for home by burning fat oxen or ram
thigh pieces, and if you ever nodded assent,
then protect us from this day of doom: do not let
the Trojans destroy the Achaeans in this way.”

So he said, and counselor Zeus thundered loudly,
having heard the prayer of the old son of Neleus.

The Trojans heard aegis-bearing Zeus’ thunder,
redoubled their efforts, and leapt upon the Argives.
Just as a rising wave on the wide sea washes over
the side of a ship, driven by a strong blast of wind
that strengthens the swelling waves, so the Trojans
cried out, drove their chariots over the wall,
and fought with leaf-shaped spears by the sterns
of the ships, some at close quarters and others
from chariots. But the Achaeans boarded the black
ships and fought from on high, wielding long pikes
with bronze points normally used for sea fighting.

While the Achaeans and Trojans fought around
the wall and away from the swift ships, Patroclus
was sitting in the hut of kindly Eurypylus,
entertaining him with stories and sprinkling
a soothing salve on his wretched black wound.
But when he saw the Trojans scaling the wall
and the Danaans crying out and turning to flee,
he made a painful cry, struck both of his thighs
with the palms of his hands, and mournfully said:
“Eurypylus, I can stay here no longer, though
you are in need, for a great battle has come.
Let your attendant comfort you while I hurry
to Achilles and urge him to join the battle.
Perhaps a god will help me stir his spirit,
for a friend’s persuasion can do wonders.”

So saying, he hurried away. Meanwhile,
the Achaeans held fast against the Trojans
but could not drive them away from the ships,
being fewer in number; nor were the Trojans
able to break the Danaan battalions and fight
among the tents and ships. Just as a carpenter’s
line straightens a cut of ship’s timber when
drawn by an able craftsman blessed by Athena’s
counsel, so both sides stood equal in battle.
As some fought on one ship and others fought
on another, Hector went straight for glorious
Ajax. Both fought for the same ship, but Hector
could not drive off Ajax and burn the ship
and Ajax could not force away god-aided
Hector. Then Ajax struck his spear in the chest
of Caletor, son of Clytius, who was carrying
fire to the ship; the man fell with a thud,
and the fire slipped from his hands. Seeing
his cousin fall to the dust before the black ship,
Hector cried out to the Trojans and Lycians:
“Trojans, Lycians, and close-fighting Dardanians,
do not give ground in this narrow space but save
Caletor before the Achaeans strip his armor
now that he has fallen beside the ships.”

So saying, he hurled his shining spear at Ajax,
missing him but hitting Lycophron, Mastor’s
son and Ajax’s aide who lived with Ajax after
killing a man in sacred Cythera. Hector’s sharp
sword struck the man’s head above the ear
as he stood beside Ajax, and he fell to the dust
in front of the ship’s stern, his life spent. Ajax
shuddered at the sight and called to his brother:
“Teucer, great-hearted Hector has killed Mastor’s
son, our trusted friend whom we honored like
our dear parents when he came from Cythera
to live in our halls. Where are your swift-killing
arrows and the bow Phoebus Apollo gave you?”

Hearing this, Teucer ran and stood beside him,
bent bow in hand and quiver full of arrows,
and soon shot his missiles at the Trojans,
hitting Cleitus, Peisenor’s noble son and aide
to Polydamas, son of Panthous, who was holding
the reins, attending to the horses, and driving
to where the battle was thickest to win the favor
of Hector and the Trojans. But foul death came
quickly, and no one could stop it. As the wicked
arrow struck the back of his neck, he fell
from the chariot, and the horses sprang back,
jolting the empty carriage. Polydamas quickly
saw all this, intercepted the horses, and gave
them to Astynous, Protiaon’s son, urging him
to keep the horses nearby and to stay vigilant;
then he returned to the foremost fighters.

Teucer then shot another arrow at Hector,
and had the shot been true, it would have
stopped him fighting by the Achaean ships
and taken his life. But shrewd Zeus protected
Hector and denied Telamonian Teucer glory.
When he drew back the arrow, his plaited bowstring
broke, the bow shattered, the heavy bronze arrow
went wide, and the bow fell from his hands.
Teucer shuddered in fear and said to his brother:
“Look, some god has utterly destroyed our plans,
striking the bow out of my hands and snapping
the bowstring I twisted and tied just this morning
so as to withstand the many springing arrows.”

Then great Telamonian Ajax answered him:
“Brother, leave your bow and arrows behind;
a god who hates the Danaans destroyed them.
So seize a long spear, put a shield on your shoulder,
fight the Trojans, and rouse the men. Do not let
them easily take our well-benched ships, though
they overpower us. Remember your fighting spirit.”

So he said, and Teucer set the bow inside the hut,
put his four-layered shield over his shoulder,
set on his head a well-made helmet with a horse’s
tail and a crest that bobbed fearfully, and grabbed
a stout spear with a sharp, bronze tip. Then he
raced off and soon came to stand beside Ajax.

When Hector saw that Teucer’s arrows had
failed, he cried out to the Trojans and Lycians:
“Trojans, Lycians, and close-fighting Dardanians,
act like men and remember your fighting spirit
among the hollow ships, for I saw with my eye
how Zeus rendered useless a great man’s arrows.
The help Zeus gives to men is easy to recognize,
both when he grants the glory of victory and when
he deprives or does not defend, just as now he
reduced the might of the Argives and aided us.
So fight as one by the ships, and if anyone meets
his fate and dies by throw or thrust, then let him
die. There is no shame in dying for your country
if your wife and children are safe, your home
and property are unharmed, and the Achaeans
return in their ships to their fatherland.”

So saying, he stirred each man’s fighting heart.
On the other side, Ajax called to his comrades:
“Shame, Argives, for now we must die or save
ourselves and force the threat from our ships.
If glancing-helmed Hector seizes our ships,
do you think you will walk back home by land?
Do you not hear Hector filling all his men
with the fury to burn the ships? He is not
ordering them to dance but to fight. For us,
there is no better plan or advice than to fight
them in close combat with our hands and might.
It is better once and for all to either live or die
than to become exhausted by an eternal battle
beside the ships and against inferior men.”

So saying, he stirred each man’s fighting heart.
Then Hector slew Schedius, son of Perimedes,
the Phocian leader; Ajax slew Laodamas, leader
of the foot soldiers and Antenor’s noble son;
and Polydamas killed Otus of Cyllene, friend
of Meges, Phyleus’ son and great-hearted lord
of the Epeians. Seeing this, Meges sprang at him,
but Polydamas moved aside and Meges missed,
Apollo not wanting Panthous’ son to fall among
the front fighters. But his spear hit Croesmus
in the chest, and he fell with a thud. As Meges
was stripping the shoulder armor, he was leapt
upon by spear-famed Dolops, the fierce, brave
son of Lampus, son of Laomedon, whose spear
pierced the center of Meges’ shield from close
range. But Meges was saved by his thick corselet
with curved metal plates that Phyleus brought
back from the river Seleïs in Ephyre, a gift
from a guest-friend, lord of men Euphetes, to be
worn in battle as a defense against enemies.
Now this gift saved his son from death. Meges
then stuck his spear in the crown of Dolops’
bronze helmet with a horsehair crest, ripping
off the crest so that the horsehair, still shining
with its fresh red dye, fell to the dust. While
Meges remained fighting, hoping for victory,
warlike Menelaus came to help. He stood
unseen by Dolops, and cast his spear, hitting
Dolops’ shoulder from behind; the point drove
straight through his chest, and he fell on his face.
As both men began to strip the bronze armor
from Dolops’ shoulders, Hector called to all
his kin, first scolding Hicetaon’s son, mighty
Melanippus. While the enemy were still far off,
he tended shambling oxen in Percote, but when
the Danaans’ ships arrived, he returned to Ilios
and became revered among the Trojans, living
in Priam’s house where they honored him like
a prince. But Hector reproached him, saying:
“Shall we slack off, Melanippus? Does your dear
heart not care for your fallen cousin? Do you
see them scrambling for Dolon’s armor? Come
on! We can no longer stand aloof, battling
the Argives from afar until we either kill them
or they seize steep Ilios and slay its people.”

So he said, and the godlike man followed him.
Then Telamonian Ajax encouraged the Argives:
“My friends, be men: keep your souls humble
and respect one another in this mighty conflict.
When men show respect, more are saved than slain,
and no glory comes from fleeing, nor any defense.”

They took his words to heart and hardened
their defense by fencing in the ships with a wall
of bronze, which Zeus urged the Trojans to attack.
Then great-shouter Menelaus urged on Antilochus:
“Antilochus, you are the youngest Achaean,
the swiftest of foot, and the bravest in battle,
so leap out and attack one of the Trojans.”

So saying, Menelaus sped off, but a roused
Antilochus glanced round and hurled his shining
spear at the lead fighters. The Trojans shrank back,
but his shot was not in vain, for it hit Hicetaon’s
son, bold Melanippus, in the chest by the nipple.
He fell with a thud, and darkness covered his eyes.
Then Antilochus pounced on him like a dog
leaping on an injured fawn that has been hit
by a hunter’s arrow while fleeing its lair, sapping
its strength. So staunch Antilochus pounced
on Melanippus, stripping his armor. But this
did not escape Hector’s notice, and he raced
through the battle to face him. Antilochus,
though swift, did not wait but fled like a wild
animal who has done wrong, such as kill a dog
or a herdsman beside his cattle, and flees before
a mob of men has gathered. So Nestor’s son fled,
and the Trojans and Hector shot groan-laden
missiles that flew with a divine din. Antilochus
turned and stood when he reached his comrades.

Like lions preying upon raw flesh, the Trojans
rushed the ships, following the orders of Zeus
who lifted their great strength, sapped Argive
hearts, and took Argive glory and gave it to Troy.
In his heart, Zeus willed glory upon Hector, son
of Priam, so he might hurl upon the beaked ships
an inhuman blaze of fire, thus fulfilling the violent
prayers of Thetis. Counselor Zeus was waiting
to see the flames of a single burning ship.
From that point on he would force the Trojans
to flee the ships and grant the Danaans glory.
And so Zeus roused against the hollowed ships
the son of Priam, Hector, who was already
as enraged as spear-wielding Ares or a deadly
fire burning through mountains or deep woods.
As Hector fought, his mouth foamed, his eyes
shone beneath shaggy brows, and his helmet
shook violently at the side of his forehead,
for ethereal Zeus was his champion, and he
granted Hector, alone among warriors, great
glory and honor, since he was destined to live
a short life, and the day was coming when Pallas
Athena would rouse the son of Peleus’ strength.
Hector tried to tear through the ranks of soldiers,
looking for the greatest numbers and the finest
armor. Still, he could not break the lines, for they
held firm like a wall or a hard, towering rockface
lying near the grey sea that withstands the swift
path of the shrill winds and well-fed waves
that break against it; so the Danaans held firm,
unflinching, against the Trojans. But Hector,
doused in firelight, leapt and fell upon them
like a fierce, tempest-fed wave that crashes
against a speedy ship, drenching it in foam as
violent hurricane winds blast the ship’s sail
and fill the minds of sailors with panic, having
just escaped from the jaws of death. So the heart
in each Achaean’s breast was torn. Hector came
on like a vicious lion nearing a herd of countless
cattle grazing in a low-lying marsh-meadow
with a herdsman clearly inept at fighting a beast
over a heifer’s sleek carcass; the herdsman follows
the herd, first at the front, then the rear, but the lion
strikes in the middle, devouring a heifer as the rest
scatter. So also did all Achaeans flee in panic,
routed by Hector and father Zeus, but Hector
slew only one, Periphetes of Mycenae, the dear
son of Copreus, who went as messenger from King
Eurystheus to mighty Heracles. This unskilled
father bore a son superior in every way—on foot,
in fighting, and in mind—and who was among
the foremost men of Mycenae. Such was the man
granted to Hector for his glory. As Periphetes
was turning, he tripped on the rim of the shield
that reached down to his spear-defending feet
and stumbled backwards, and the helmet
around his forehead rang terribly as he fell.
Hector quickly rushed over, stood next to him,
and speared him in the chest, killing him beside
his comrades who could do nothing but mourn,
for they themselves greatly feared noble Hector.

The Argives retreated to the outermost ships,
but the Trojans pursued, so the Argives fell back
past the ships and took a stand beside their tents.
They did not scatter through the camp but stayed
together, ashamed, afraid, and constantly calling
to one another. Loudest of all was Nestor
of Gerenia, guardian of the Achaeans, who
begged each man in the name of their parents:
“Friends, be men, and put shame in your hearts
for those around you. Remember your children,
your wives, your possessions, and your parents,
be they living or dead. For the sake of all
those who are distant from us, I implore you
to stand firm and not turn around and flee.”

So he said, stirring the hearts of every man,
and Athena lifted the cloud of mist from their eyes
and light fell on them from from both sides, whether
looking at the ships or at the dreaded battlefield.
All could see war-crying Hector and his comrades,
both those standing in the back and not fighting
and those who were battling beside the swift ships.

But great-hearted Ajax’s soul would not let him
stand with the other sons of Achaea, so he took
long strides up and down the decks of the ships,
wielding in his hands a long pole for sea-fighting,
twenty-two cubits long and joined with clasps.
Like a skilled horseman harnessing four horses
together, chosen out of many, and driving them
quickly along the road from the plains to a great
city where many men and women gaze at him
with wonder as he, steadily and without fail,
leaps from one galloping horse to another,
so Ajax took long strides over the decks of many
swift ships, and with his voice lifting to heaven,
called out with great shouts to the Danaans
to protect their ships and tents. Hector, too,
did not stay with the well-armed Trojan throng,
but like a shining eagle pouncing upon a flock
of winged birds such as wild geese, cranes,
or long-necked swans all feeding beside a river,
he charged straight at a black-prowed ship,
and from behind Zeus’ mighty hands pushed
him forward, and the whole army followed.

Once again a bitter battle among the ships ensued.
You would have thought every man to be tireless
and fresh, so furiously did they fight. This is what
filled their minds as they fought: the Achaeans did
not think they would escape this danger but would
perish, while the Trojan hearts in their breasts
hoped to set fire to the ships and kill the Achaean
warriors. These were their thoughts as they fought
one another. But Hector took hold of the stern
of a seafaring ship, one fine and swift, which had
carried Protesilaus to Troy but would not return
him to his fatherland. It was around this ship that
Achaeans and Trojans slew each other in close
combat, for they no longer awaited the rush
of javelines and arrows but stood man-to-man,
all with one purpose, and fought using sharp axes,
hatchets, great swords, and leaf-shaped spears.
Many fine swords bound with black hilts fell
to the ground from hands or men’s shoulders as
they fought, and the black earth ran with blood.
But Hector did not let go of the ship’s stern
but held tight to the post and called to the Trojans:
“Bring fire and let all at once sound the war cry,
for today Zeus has granted us all amends: to seize
the ships that came here against the gods’ will
and brought us many miseries, due to our elders’
cowardice, for when I wanted to fight by the sterns
of the ships, they refused and held back the army.
But if far-seeing Zeus dampened our resolve then,
he now urges us and commands us onward.”

So saying, they attacked the Argives more intently.
Ajax could not hold his ground and, thinking
he would die there, went back along the seven-
foot bridge and gave up the trim ship’s aft-deck.
He stood ready and used his long pole to beat back
any Trojans carrying unceasing fire while always
calling loudly to the Danaans, urging them on:
“Friends, Danaan warriors, servants of Ares,
be men and remember your rushing rage.
Do you think others are waiting to help us?
Do you think some strong wall will protect us?
We have no fortified city nearby where we may
go to protect ourselves and hold off the enemy.
We are on the Trojan plains, far from our native
land, and with our backs to the sea. The might
of our hands holds victory, our slackness defeat.”

He then drove furiously at the foe with his sharp
spear, and whenever a Trojan carried blazing fire
to the hollow ships to please Hector, Ajax waited
for him and struck him with his long spear. In this
way, he wounded twelve men in front of the ships.