Powered by Heat Keywords
The Online 
Medieval and Classical Library

The Fall of Troy

How Hercules' Grandson perished in fight with the Son of Achilles.

Online Medieval and Classical Library Release #18b

     When from the far sea-line, where is the cave
     Of Dawn, rose up the sun, and scattered light
     Over the earth, then did the eager sons
     Of Troy and of Achaea arm themselves
     Athirst for battle: these Achilles' son
     Cheered on to face the Trojans awelessly;
     And those the giant strength of Telephus' seed
     Kindled.  He trusted to dash down the wall
     To earth, and utterly destroy the ships
10   With ravening fire, and slay the Argive host.
     Ah, but his hope was as the morning breeze
     Delusive: hard beside him stood the Fates
     Laughing to scorn his vain imaginings.

     Then to the Myrmidons spake Achilles' son,
     The aweless, to the fight enkindling them:
     "Hear me, mine henchmen: take ye to your hearts
     The spirit of war, that we may heal the wounds
     Of Argos, and be ruin to her foes.
     Let no man fear, for mighty prowess is
20   The child of courage; but fear slayeth strength
     And spirit.  Gird yourselves with strength for war;
     Give foes no breathing-space, that they may say
     That mid our ranks Achilles liveth yet."

     Then clad he with his father's flashing arms
     His shoulders.  Then exulted Thetis' heart
     When from the sea she saw the mighty strength
     Of her son's son.  Then forth with eagle-speed
     Afront of that high wall he rushed, his ear
     Drawn by the immortal horses of his sire.
30   As from the ocean-verge upsprings the sun
     In glory, flashing fire far over earth --
     Fire, when beside his radiant chariot-team
     Races the red star Sirius, scatterer
     Of woefullest diseases over men;
     So flashed upon the eyes of Ilium's host
     That battle-eager hero, Achilles' son.
     Onward they whirled him, those immortal steeds,
     The which, when now he longed to chase the foe
     Back from the ships, Automedon, who wont
40   To rein them for his father, brought to him.
     With joy that pair bore battleward their lord,
     So like to Aeacus' son, their deathless hearts
     Held him no worser than Achilles' self.
     Laughing for glee the Argives gathered round
     The might resistless of Neoptolemus,
     Eager for fight as wasps [whose woodland bower
     The axe] hath shaken, who dart swarming forth
     Furious to sting the woodman: round their nest
     Long eddying, they torment all passers by;
50   So streamed they forth from galley and from wall
     Burning for fight, and that wide space was thronged,
     And all the plain far blazed with armour-sheen,
     As shone from heaven's vault the sun thereon.
     As flees the cloud-rack through the welkin wide
     Scourged onward by the North-wind's Titan blasts,
     When winter-tide and snow are hard at hand,
     And darkness overpalls the firmament;
     So with their thronging squadrons was the earth
     Covered before the ships.  To heaven uprolled,
60   Dust hung on hovering wings' men's armour clashed;
     Rattled a thousand chariots; horses neighed
     On-rushing to the fray.  Each warrior's prowess
     Kindled him with its trumpet-call to war.

     As leap the long sea-rollers, onward hurled
     By two winds terribly o'er th' broad sea-flood
     Roaring from viewless bournes, with whirlwind blasts
     Crashing together, when a ruining storm
     Maddens along the wide gulfs of the deep,
     And moans the Sea-queen with her anguished waves
70   Which sweep from every hand, uptowering
     Like precipiced mountains, while the bitter squall,
     Ceaselessly veering, shrieks across the sea;
     So clashed in strife those hosts from either hand
     With mad rage.  Strife incarnate spurred them on,
     And their own prowess.  Crashed together these
     Like thunderclouds outlightening, thrilling the air.
     With shattering trumpet-challenge, when the blasts
     Are locked in frenzied wrestle, with mad breath
     Rending the clouds, when Zeus is wroth with men
80   Who travail with iniquity, and flout
     His law.  So grappled they, as spear with spear
     Clashed, shield with shield, and man on man was hurled.

     And first Achilles' war-impetuous son
     Struck down stout Melaneus and Alcidamas,
     Sons of the war-lord Alexinomus,
     Who dwelt in Caunus mountain-cradled, nigh
     The clear lake shining at Tarbelus' feet
     'Neath snow-capt Imbrus.  Menes, fleetfoot son
     Of King Cassandrus, slew he, born to him
90   By fair Creusa, where the lovely streams
     Of Lindus meet the sea, beside the marches
     Of battle-biding Carians, and the heights
     Of Lycia the renowned.  He slew withal
     Morys the spearman, who from Phrygia came;
     Polybus and Hippomedon by his side
     He laid, this stabbed to the heart, that pierced between
     Shoulder and neck: man after man he slew.
     Earth groaned 'neath Trojan corpses; rank on rank
     Crumbled before him, even as parched brakes
100  Sink down before the blast of ravening fire
     When the north wind of latter summer blows;
     So ruining squadrons fell before his charge.

     Meanwhile Aeneas slew Aristolochus,
     Crashing a great stone down on his head: it brake
     Helmet and skull together, and fled his life.
     Fleetfoot Eumaeus Diomede slew; he dwelt
     In craggy Dardanus, where the bride-bed is
     Whereon Anchises clasped the Queen of Love.
     Agamemnon smote down Stratus: unto Thrace
110  Returned he not from war, but died far off
     From his dear fatherland.  And Meriones
     Struck Chlemus down, Peisenor's son, the friend
     Of god-like Glaucus, and his comrade leal,
     Who by Limurus' outfall dwelt: the folk
     Honoured him as their king, when reigned no more
     Glaucus, in battle slain, -- all who abode
     Around Phoenice's towers, and by the crest
     Of Massicytus, and Chimaera's glen.

     So man slew man in fight; but more than all
120  Eurypylus hurled doom on many a foe.
     First slew he battle-bider Eurytus,
     Menoetius of the glancing taslet next,
     Elephenor's godlike comrades.  Fell with these
     Harpalus, wise Odysseus' warrior-friend;
     But in the fight afar that hero toiled,
     And might not aid his fallen henchman: yet
     Fierce Antiphus for that slain man was wroth,
     And hurled his spear against Eurypylus,
     Yet touched him not; the strong shaft glanced aside,
130  And pierced Meilanion battle-staunch, the son
     Of Cleite lovely-faced, Erylaus' bride,
     Who bare him where Caicus meets the sea.
     Wroth for his comrade slain, Eurypylus
     Rushed upon Antiphus, but terror-winged
     He plunged amid his comrades; so the spear
     Of the avenger slew him not, whose doom
     Was one day wretchedly to be devoured
     By the manslaying Cyclops: so it pleased
     Stern Fate, I know not why.  Elsewhither sped
140  Eurypylus; and aye as he rushed on
     Fell 'neath his spear a multitude untold.
     As tall trees, smitten by the strength of steel
     In mountain-forest, fill the dark ravines,
     Heaped on the earth confusedly, so fell
     The Achaeans 'neath Eurypylus' flying spears --
     Till heart-uplifted met him face to face
     Achilles' son.  The long spears in their hands
     They twain swung up, each hot to smite his foe.
     But first Eurypylus cried the challenge-cry;
150  "Who art thou?  Whence hast come to brave me here?
     To Hades merciless Fate is bearing thee;
     For in grim fight hath none escaped mine hands;
     But whoso, eager for the fray, have come
     Hither, on all have I hurled anguished death.
     By Xanthus' streams have dogs devoured their flesh
     And gnawed their bones.  Answer me, who art thou?
     Whose be the steeds that bear thee exultant on?"

     Answered Achilles' battle-eager son:
     "Wherefore, when I am hurrying to the fray,
160  Dost thou, a foe, put question thus to me,
     As might a friend, touching my lineage,
     Which many know?  Achilles' son am I,
     Son of the man whose long spear smote thy sire,
     And made him flee -- yea, and the ruthless fates
     Of death had seized him, but my father's self
     Healed him upon the brink of woeful death.
     The steeds which bear me were my godlike sire's;
     These the West-wind begat, the Harpy bare:
     Over the barren sea their feet can race
170  Skimming its crests: in speed they match the winds.
     Since then thou know'st the lineage of my steeds
     And mine, now put thou to the test the might
     Of my strong spear, born on steep Pelion's crest,
     Who hath left his father-stock and forest there."

     He spake; and from the chariot sprang to earth
     That glorious man: he swung the long spear up.
     But in his brawny hand his foe hath seized
     A monstrous stone: full at the golden shield
     Of Neoptolemus he sped its flight;
180  But, no whir staggered by its whirlwind rush,
     He like a giant mountain-foreland stood
     Which all the banded fury of river-floods
     Can stir not, rooted in the eternal hills;
     So stood unshaken still Achilles' son.
     Yet not for this Eurypylus' dauntless might
     Shrank from Achilles' son invincible,
     On-spurred by his own hardihood and by Fate.
     Their hearts like caldrons seethed o'er fires of wrath,
     Their glancing armour flashed about their limbs.
190  Like terrible lions each on other rushed,
     Which fight amid the mountains famine-stung,
     Writhing and leaping in the strain of strife
     For a slain ox or stag, while all the glens
     Ring with their conflict; so they grappled, so
     Clashed they in pitiless strife.  On either hand
     Long lines of warriors Greek and Trojan toiled
     In combat: round them roared up flames of war.
     Like mighty rushing winds they hurled together
     With eager spears for blood of life athirst.
200  Hard by them stood Enyo, spurred them on
     Ceaselessly: never paused they from the strife.
     Now hewed they each the other's shield, and now
     Thrust at the greaves, now at the crested helms.
     Reckless of wounds, in that grim toil pressed on
     Those aweless heroes: Strife incarnate watched
     And gloated o'er them.  Ran the sweat in streams
     From either: straining hard they stood their ground,
     For both were of the seed of Blessed Ones.
     From Heaven, with hearts at variance, Gods looked down;
210  For some gave glory to Achilles' son,
     Some to Eurypylus the godlike.  Still
     They fought on, giving ground no more than rock.
     Of granite mountains.  Rang from side to side
     Spear-smitten shields.  At last the Pelian lance,
     Sped onward by a mighty thrust, hath passed
     Clear through Eurypylus' throat.  Forth poured the blood
     Torrent-like; through the portal of the wound
     The soul from the body flew: darkness of death
     Dropped o'er his eyes.  To earth in clanging arms
220  He fell, like stately pine or silver fir
     Uprooted by the fury of Boreas;
     Such space of earth Eurypylus' giant frame
     Covered in falling: rang again the floor
     And plain of Troyland.  Grey death-pallor swept
     Over the corpse, and all the flush of life
     Faded away.  With a triumphant laugh
     Shouted the mighty hero over him:
     "Eurypylus, thou saidst thou wouldst destroy
     The Danaan ships and men, wouldst slay us all
230  Wretchedly -- but the Gods would not fulfil
     Thy wish.  For all thy might invincible,
     My father's massy spear hath now subdued
     Thee under me, that spear no man shall 'scape,
     Though he be brass all through, who faceth me."

     He spake, and tore the long lance from the corse,
     While shrank the Trojans back in dread, at sight
     Of that strong-hearted man.  Straightway he stripped
     The armour from the dead, for friends to bear
     Fast to the ships Achaean.  But himself
240  To the swift chariot and the tireless steeds
     Sprang, and sped onward like a thunderbolt
     That lightning-girdled leaps through the wide air
     From Zeus's hands unconquerable -- the bolt
     Before whose downrush all the Immortals quail
     Save only Zeus.  It rusheth down to earth,
     It rendeth trees and rugged mountain-crags;
     So rushed he on the Trojans, flashing doom
     Before their eyes; dashed to the earth they fell
     Before the charge of those immortal steeds:
250  The earth was heaped with slain, was dyed with gore.
     As when in mountain-glens the unnumbered leaves
     Down-streaming thick and fast hide all the ground,
     So hosts of Troy untold on earth were strewn
     By Neoptolemus and fierce-hearted Greeks,
     Shed by whose hands the blood in torrents ran
     'Neath feet of men and horses.  Chariot-rails
     Were dashed with blood-spray whirled up from the tyres.

     Now had the Trojans fled within their gates
     As calves that flee a lion, or as swine
260  Flee from a storm -- but murderous Ares came,
     Unmarked of other Gods, down from the heavens,
     Eager to help the warrior sons of Troy.
     Red-fire and Flame, Tumult and Panic-fear,
     His car-steeds, bare him down into the fight,
     The coursers which to roaring Boreas
     Grim-eyed Erinnys bare, coursers that breathed
     Life-blasting flame: groaned all the shivering air,
     As battleward they sped.  Swiftly he came
     To Troy: loud rang the earth beneath the feet
270  Of that wild team.  Into the battle's heart
     Tossing his massy spear, he came; with a shout
     He cheered the Trojans on to face the foe.
     They heard, and marvelled at that wondrous cry,
     Not seeing the God's immortal form, nor steeds,
     Veiled in dense mist.  But the wise prophet-soul
     Of Helenus knew the voice divine that leapt
     Unto the Trojans' ears, they knew not whence,
     And with glad heart to the fleeing host he cried:
     "O cravens, wherefore fear Achilles' son,
280  Though ne'er so brave?  He is mortal even as we;
     His strength is not as Ares' strength, who is come
     A very present help in our sore need.
     That was his shout far-pealing, bidding us
     Fight on against the Argives.  Let your hearts
     Be strong, O friends: let courage fill your breasts.
     No mightier battle-helper can draw nigh
     To Troy than he.  Who is of more avail
     For war than Ares, when he aideth men
     Hard-fighting?  Lo, to our help he cometh now!
290  On to the fight!  Cast to the winds your fears!"

     They fled no more, they faced the Argive men,
     As hounds, that mid the copses fled at first,
     Turn them about to face and fight the wolf,
     Spurred by the chiding of their shepherd-lord;
     So turned the sons of Troy again to war,
     Casting away their fear.  Man leapt on man
     Valiantly fighting; loud their armour clashed
     Smitten with swords, with lances, and with darts.
     Spears plunged into men's flesh: dread Ares drank
300  His fill of blood: struck down fell man on man,
     As Greek and Trojan fought.  In level poise
     The battle-balance hung.  As when young men
     In hot haste prune a vineyard with the steel,
     And each keeps pace with each in rivalry,
     Since all in strength and age be equal-matched;
     So did the awful scales of battle hang
     Level: all Trojan hearts beat high, and firm
     Stood they in trust on aweless Ares' might,
     While the Greeks trusted in Achilles' son.
310  Ever they slew and slew: stalked through the midst
     Deadly Enyo, her shoulders and her hands
     Blood-splashed, while fearful sweat streamed from her limbs.
     Revelling in equal fight, she aided none,
     Lest Thetis' or the War-god's wrath be stirred.

     Then Neoptolemus slew one far-renowned,
     Perimedes, who had dwelt by Smintheus' grove;
     Next Cestrus died, Phalerus battle-staunch,
     Perilaus the strong, Menalcas lord of spears,
     Whom Iphianassa bare by the haunted foot
320  Of Cilla to the cunning craftsman Medon.
     In the home-land afar the sire abode,
     And never kissed his son's returning head:
     For that fair home and all his cunning works
     Did far-off kinsmen wrangle o'er his grave.
     Deiphobus slew Lycon battle-staunch:
     The lance-head pierced him close above the groin,
     And round the long spear all his bowels gushed out.
     Aeneas smote down Dymas, who erewhile
     In Aulis dwelt, and followed unto Troy
330  Arcesilaus, and saw never more
     The dear home-land.  Euryalus hurled a dart,
     And through Astraeus' breast the death-winged point
     Flew, shearing through the breathways of man's life;
     And all that lay within was drenched with blood.
     And hard thereby great-souled Agenor slew
     Hippomenes, hero Teucer's comrade staunch,
     With one swift thrust 'twixt shoulder and neck: his soul
     Rushed forth in blood; death's night swept over him.
     Grief for his comrade slain on Teucer fell;
340  He strained his bow, a swift-winged shaft he sped,
     But smote him not, for slightly Agenor swerved.
     Yet nigh him Deiophontes stood; the shaft
     Into his left eye plunged, passed through the ball,
     And out through his right ear, because the Fates
     Whither they willed thrust on the bitter barbs.
     Even as in agony he leapt full height,
     Yet once again the archer's arrow hissed:
     It pierced his throat, through the neck-sinews cleft
     Unswerving, and his hard doom came on him.

350  So man to man dealt death; and joyed the Fates
     And Doom, and fell Strife in her maddened glee
     Shouted aloud, and Ares terribly
     Shouted in answer, and with courage thrilled
     The Trojans, and with panic fear the Greeks,
     And shook their reeling squadrons.  But one man
     He scared not, even Achilles' son; he abode,
     And fought undaunted, slaying foes on foes.
     As when a young lad sweeps his hand around
     Flies swarming over milk, and nigh the bowl
360  Here, there they lie, struck dead by that light touch,
     And gleefully the child still plies the work;
     So stern Achilles' glorious scion joyed
     Over the slain, and recked not of the God
     Who spurred the Trojans on: man after man
     Tasted his vengeance of their charging host.
     Even as a giant mountain-peak withstands
     On-rushing hurricane-blasts, so he abode
     Unquailing.  Ares at his eager mood
     Grew wroth, and would have cast his veil of cloud
370  Away, and met him face to face in fight,
     But now Athena from Olympus swooped
     To forest-mantled Ida.  Quaked the earth
     And Xanthus' murmuring streams; so mightily
     She shook them: terror-stricken were the souls
     Of all the Nymphs, adread for Priam's town.
     From her immortal armour flashed around
     The hovering lightnings; fearful serpents breathed
     Fire from her shield invincible; the crest
     Of her great helmet swept the clouds.  And now
380  She was at point to close in sudden fight
     With Ares; but the mighty will of Zeus
     Daunted them both, from high heaven thundering
     His terrors.  Ares drew back from the war,
     For manifest to him was Zeus's wrath.
     To wintry Thrace he passed; his haughty heart
     Reeked no more of the Trojans.  In the plain
     Of Troy no more stayed Pallas; she was gone
     To hallowed Athens.  But the armies still
     Strove in the deadly fray; and fainted now
390  The Trojans' prowess; but all battle-fain
     The Argives pressed on these as they gave ground.
     As winds chase ships that fly with straining sails
     On to the outsea -- as on forest-brakes
     Leapeth the fury of flame -- as swift hounds drive
     Deer through the mountains, eager for the prey,
     So did the Argives chase them: Achilles' son
     Still cheered them on, still slew with that great spear
     Whomso he overtook.  On, on they fled
     Till into stately-gated Troy they poured.

400  Then had the Argives a short breathing-space
     From war, when they had penned the hosts of Troy
     In Priam's burg, as shepherds pen up lambs
     Upon a lonely steading.  And, as when
     After hard strain, a breathing-space is given
     To oxen that, quick-panting 'neath the yoke,
     Up a steep hill have dragged a load, so breathed
     Awhile the Achaeans after toil in arms.
     Then once more hot for the fray did they beset
     The city-towers.  But now with gates fast barred
410  The Trojans from the walls withstood the assault.
     As when within their steading shepherd-folk
     Abide the lowering tempest, when a day
     Of storm hath dawned, with fury of lightnings, rain
     And heavy-drifting snow, and dare not haste
     Forth to the pasture, howsoever fain,
     Till the great storm abate, and rivers, wide
     With rushing floods, again be passable;
     So trembling on their walls they abode the rage
     Of foes against their ramparts surging fast.
420  And as when daws or starlings drop in clouds
     Down on an orchard-close, full fain to feast
     Upon its pleasant fruits, and take no heed
     Of men that shout to scare them thence away,
     Until the reckless hunger be appeased
     That makes them bold; so poured round Priam's burg
     The furious Danaans.  Against the gates
     They hurled themselves, they strove to batter down
     The mighty-souled Earth-shaker's work divine.

     Yet did tim Troyfolk not, despite their fear,
430  Flinch from the fight: they manned their towers, they toiled
     Unresting: ever from the fair-built walls
     Leapt arrows, stones, and fleet-winged javelins down
     Amidst the thronging foes; for Phoebus thrilled
     Their souls with steadfast hardihood.  Fain was he
     To save them still, though Hector was no more.

     Then Meriones shot forth a deadly shaft,
     And smote Phylodamas, Polites' friend,
     Beneath the jaw; the arrow pierced his throat.
     Down fell he like a vulture, from a rock
440  By fowler's barbed arrow shot and slain;
     So from the high tower swiftly down he fell:
     His life fled; clanged his armour o'er the corpse.
     With laughter of triumph stalwart Molus' son
     A second arrow sped, with strong desire
     To smite Polites, ill-starred Priam's son:
     But with a swift side-swerve did he escape
     The death, nor did the arrow touch his flesh.
     As when a shipman, as his bark flies on
     O'er sea-gulfs, spies amid the rushing tide
450  A rock, and to escape it swiftly puts
     The helm about, and turns aside the ship
     Even as he listeth, that a little strength
     Averts a great disaster; so did he
     Foresee and shun the deadly shaft of doom.

     Ever they fought on; walls, towers, battlements
     Were blood-besprent, wherever Trojans fell
     Slain by the arrows of the stalwart Greeks.
     Yet these escaped not scatheless; many of them
     Dyed the earth red: aye waxed the havoc of death
460  As friends and foes were stricken.  O'er the strife
     Shouted for glee Enyo, sister of War.

     Now had the Argives burst the gates, had breached
     The walls of Troy, for boundless was their might;
     But Ganymedes saw from heaven, and cried,
     Anguished with fear for his own fatherland:
     "O Father Zeus, if of thy seed I am,
     If at thine best I left far-famous Troy
     For immortality with deathless Gods,
     O hear me now, whose soul is anguish-thrilled!
470  I cannot bear to see my fathers' town
     In flames, my kindred in disastrous strife ú
     Perishing: bitterer sorrow is there none!
     Oh, if thine heart is fixed to do this thing,
     Let me be far hence!  Less shall be my grief
     If I behold it not with these mine eyes.
     That is the depth of horror and of shame
     To see one's country wrecked by hands of foes."

     With groans and tears so pleaded Ganymede.
     Then Zeus himself with one vast pall of cloud
480  Veiled all the city of Priam world-renowned;
     And all the murderous fight was drowned in mist,
     And like a vanished phantom was the wall
     In vapours heavy-hung no eye could pierce;
     And all around crashed thunders, lightnings flamed
     From heaven.  The Danaans heard Zeus' clarion peal
     Awe-struck; and Neleus' son cried unto them:
     "Far-famous lords of Argives, all our strength
     Palsied shall be, while Zeus protecteth thus
     Our foes.  A great tide of calamity
490  On us is rolling; haste we then to the ships;
     Cease we awhile from bitter toil of strife,
     Lest the fire of his wrath consume us all.
     Submit we to his portents; needs must all
     Obey him ever, who is mightier far
     Than all strong Gods, all weakling sons of men.
     On the presumptuous Titans once in wrath
     He poured down fire from heaven: then burned all earth
     Beneath, and Ocean's world-engirdling flood
     Boiled from its depths, yea, to its utmost bounds:
500  Far-flowing mighty rivers were dried up:
     Perished all broods of life-sustaining earth,
     All fosterlings of the boundless sea, and all
     Dwellers in rivers: smoke and ashes veiled
     The air: earth fainted in the fervent heat.
     Therefore this day I dread the might of Zeus.
     Now, pass we to the ships, since for to-day
     He helpeth Troy.  To us too shall he grant
     Glory hereafter; for the dawn on men,
     Though whiles it frown, anon shall smile.  Not yet,
510  But soon, shall Fate lead us to smite yon town,
     If true indeed was Calchas' prophecy
     Spoken aforetime to the assembled Greeks,
     That in the tenth year Priam's burg should fall."

     Then left they that far-famous town, and turned
     From war, in awe of Zeus's threatenings,
     Hearkening to one with ancient wisdom wise.
     Yet they forgat not friends in battle slain,
     But bare them from the field and buried them.
     These the mist hid not, but the town alone
520  And its unscaleable wall, around which fell
     Trojans and Argives many in battle slain.
     So came they to the ships, and put from them
     Their battle-gear, and strode into the waves
     Of Hellespont fair-flowing, and washed away
     All stain of dust and sweat and clotted gore.

     The sun drave down his never-wearying steeds
     Into the dark west: night streamed o'er the earth,
     Bidding men cease from toil.  The Argives then
     Acclaimed Achilles' valiant son with praise
530  High as his father's.  Mid triumphant mirth
     He feasted in kings' tents: no battle-toil
     Had wearied him; for Thetis from his limbs
     Had charmed all ache of travail, making him
     As one whom labour had no power to tire.
     When his strong heart was satisfied with meat,
     He passed to his father's tent, and over him
     Sleep's dews were poured.  The Greeks slept in the plain
     Before the ships, by ever-changing guards
     Watched; for they dreaded lest the host of Troy,
540  Or of her staunch allies, should kindle flame
     Upon the ships, and from them all cut off
     Their home-return.  In Priam's burg the while
     By gate and wall men watched and slept in turn,
     Adread to hear the Argives' onset-shout.

Go to Book IX