Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- But Neptune, who commands the ocean waves,
- lamented with a father's grief his son,
- whose person he had changed into a bird—
- the swan of Phaethon, and towards Achilles,
- grim victor in the fight, his lasting hate
- made him pursue resentment far beyond
- the ordinary manner of the gods.
- After nine years of war he spoke these words,
- addressing long haired Sminthean Apollo:
- “O nephew the most dear to me of all
- my brother's sons, with me you built in vain
- the walls of Troy: you must be lost in grief,
- when you look on those towers so soon to fall?
- Or do you not lament the multitudes
- slain in defence of them—To name but one:
- “Does not the ghost of Hector, dragged around
- his Pergama, appear to you? And yet
- the fierce Achilles, who is bloodstained more
- than slaughtering war, lives on this earth,
- for the destruction of our toil. Let him
- once get into my power, and I will make
- him feel the action of my triple spear.
- But, since I may not meet him face to face,
- do you with sudden arrow give him death.”
- The Delian god, Apollo, gave assent,
- both for his own hate and his uncle's rage.
- Veiled in a cloud, he found the Trojan host
- and, there, while bloody strife went on, he saw
- the hero Paris shoot at intervals
- his arrows at the nameless host of Greeks.
- Revealing his divinity, he said:
- “Why spend your arrows on the common men
- if you would serve your people, take good aim
- at great Achilles and at last avenge
- your hapless brothers whom he gave to death.”
- He pointed out Achilles—laying low
- the Trojan warriors with his mighty spear.
- On him he turned the Trojan's willing bow
- and guided with his hand the fatal shaft.
- It was the first joy that old Priam knew
- since Hector's death. So then Achilles you,
- who overcame the mighty, were subdued
- by a coward who seduced a Grecian wife!
- Ah, if you could not die by manly hands,
- your choice had been the axe.
- Now that great terror of the Trojan race,
- the glory and defence of the Pelasgians,
- Achilles, first in war, lay on the pyre.
- The god of Fire first armed, then burned, his limbs.
- And now he is but ashes; and of him, so great,
- renowned and mighty, but a pitiful
- handful of small dust insufficient for
- a little urn! But all his glory lives
- enough to fill the world—a great reward.
- And in that glory is his real life:
- in a true sense he will never know the void
- of Tartarus.
- But soon his very shield—
- that men might know to whom it had belonged—
- brings war, and arms are taken for his arms.
- Neither Diomed nor Ajax called the less
- ventured to claim the hero's mighty shield.
- Menelaus and other warlike chiefs,
- even Agamemnon, all withdrew their claims.
- Only the greater Ajax and Ulysses
- had such assurance that they dared contest
- for that great prize. Then Agamemnon chose
- to avoid the odium of preferring one.
- He bade the Argolic chieftains take their seats
- within the camp and left to all of them
- the hearing and decision of the cause.