{"id":3660,"date":"2013-07-13T01:50:17","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:50:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=3660"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:50:17","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:50:17","slug":"05-the-book-of-partings-vol-ilion-an-epic-in-quantitative-hexameters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/02-other-editions\/ilion-an-epic-in-quantitative-hexameters\/05-the-book-of-partings-vol-ilion-an-epic-in-quantitative-hexameters","title":{"rendered":"-05_The Book Of Partings.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n

\nBook Four<\/font><\/i> <\/font><\/b>\n<\/p>\n

\nTHE BOOK OF PARTINGS
\n<\/font><\/b>\n<\/p>\n

\n\tEAGERLY, spurred by Ares swift in their souls to the war-cry, <\/p>\n

All now pressed to their homes for the food of their strength in the
\nbattle;\n<\/p>\n

Ilion turned her thoughts in a proud expectancy seaward\n\t<\/p>\n

Waiting to hear the sounds that she loved and the cry of the mellay.\n\t<\/p>\n

Now to their citadel Priam’s sons returned with their father,\n\t<\/p>\n

Now from the gates Talthybius issued grey in his chariot;\n\t<\/p>\n

But in the halls of Anchises Aeneas not doffing his breastpiece\n\t<\/p>\n

Hastily ate of the corn of his country, cakes of the millet\n\t<\/p>\n

Doubled with wild-deer’s flesh, from the quiet hands of Cre\u00fcsa.\n\t<\/p>\n

She, as he ate, with her calm eyes watching him smiled on her husband:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Ever thou hastest to battle, O warrior, ever thou fightest\n\t<\/p>\n

Far in the front of the ranks and thou seekest out Locrian Ajax,\n\t<\/p>\n

Turnest thy ear to the roar for the dangerous shout of Tydides;\n\t<\/p>\n

There, once heard, leaving all thou drivest, O stark in thy courage.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet am I blest among women who tremble not, left in thy mansion,\n\t<\/p>\n

Quiet at old Anchises’ feet when I see thee in vision\n\t<\/p>\n

Sole with the shafts hissing round thee and say to my quivering spirit,\n\t<\/p>\n

‘Now he is striking at Ajax, now he has met Diomedes.’\n\t<\/p>\n

Such are the mighty twain who are ever near to protect thee,\n\t<\/p>\n

Phoebus, the Thunderer’s son, and thy mother, gold Aphrodite;\n\t<\/p>\n

Such are the fates that demand thee, O destined head of the future.\n\t<\/p>\n

But though my thoughts for their own are not troubled, always, Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Sore is my heart with pity for other Ilian women\n\t<\/p>\n

Who in this battle are losing their children and well-loved husbands,\n\t<\/p>\n

Brothers too dear, for the eyes that are wet, for the hearts that are silent.\n\t<\/p>\n

Will not this war then end that thunders for ever round Troya?"\n\t<\/p>\n

But to Cre\u00fcsa the hero answered, the son of Anchises:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Surely the gods protect, yet is Death too always mighty.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\tMost in his shadowy envy he strikes at the brave and the lovely, <\/p>\n

\n\tGrudging works to abridge their days and to widow the sunlight; <\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-53<\/p>\n

\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Most, disappointed, he rages against the beloved of Heaven;\n\t<\/p>\n

Striking their lives through their hearts he mows down their loves and
\ntheir pleasures.\n<\/p>\n

Truly thou say’st, thou need’st not to fear for my life in the battle;\n\t<\/p>\n

Ever for thine I fear lest he find thee out in his anger,\n\t<\/p>\n

Missing my head in the fight, when he comes here crossed in his godhead.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet shall Phoebus protect and my mother, gold Aphrodite."\n\t<\/p>\n

But to Aeneas answered the tranquil lips of Cre\u00fcsa:\n\t<\/p>\n

"So may it be that I go before thee, seeing, Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Over my dying eyes thy lips bend down for the parting.\n\t<\/p>\n

Bliss fullest end is this for a woman here mid earth’s sorrows;\n\t<\/p>\n

Afterwards there we hope that the hands shall join which were parted."\n\t<\/p>\n

So she spoke, not knowing the gods: but Aeneas departing\n\t<\/p>\n

Clasped his father’s knees, the ancient mighty Anchises:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Bless me, my father; I go to the battle. Strong with thy blessing\n\t<\/p>\n

Even today may I hurl down Ajax, slay Diomedes,\n\t<\/p>\n

And on the morrow gaze on the empty beaches of Troas.<\/p>\n

" Troubled and joyless, nought replying to warlike Aeneas\n\t<\/p>\n

Long Anchises sat unmoving, silent, sombre,\n\t<\/p>\n

Gazing into his soul with eyes that were closed to the sunlight.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Prosper, Aeneas;" slowly he answered him, "son of a goddess,\n\t<\/p>\n

Prosper, Aeneas; and if for Troy some doom is preparing,\n\t<\/p>\n

Suffer always the will of the gods with a piety constant.\n\t<\/p>\n

Only they will what Necessity fashions, impelled by the Silence.\n\t<\/p>\n

Labour and war she has given to man as the law of his transience.\n\t<\/p>\n

Work ;* she shall give thee the crown of thy deeds or their ending appointed,\n\t<\/p>\n

Whether glorious thou pass or in silent shadows forgotten.\n\t<\/p>\n

But what thy mother commands perform ever, loading thy vessels.\n\t<\/p>\n

Who can know what the gods have hid with the mist of our
\n\thelpings?" <\/p>\n

So2<\/sup> from the house of his fathers Aeneas rapidly striding\n\t<\/p>\n

Came to the city echoing now with the wheels of the chariots,\n\t<\/p>\n

Clanging with arms and as
\n\tteam with the warlike tramp of her thousands. <\/p>\n

Fast through the press he strode and men turning knew Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Greatened in heart and went on with loftier thoughts towards battle.\n\t<\/p>\n

He through the noise and the crowd to Antenor’s high-built mansion\n\t<\/p>\n

Striding came, and he turned to its courts and the bronze of its threshold\n\t<\/p>\n

Trod which had suffered the feet of so many princes departed.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/sup> fight <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t2<\/sup> Then <\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-54<\/p>\n

\n

\n

But as he crossed its brazen square from the hall there came running,\n\t<\/p>\n

Leaping up light to his feet and laughing with sudden pleasure,\n\t<\/p>\n

Eurus the youngest son of Polydamas. Clasping the fatal\n\t<\/p>\n

War-hardened hand with a palm that was smooth as a maiden’s or infant’s,\n\t<\/p>\n

"Well art thou come, Aeneas," he said, "and good fortune has sent thee!\n\t<\/p>\n

Now I shall go to the field; thou wilt speak with my grandsire Antenor,\n\t<\/p>\n

And he shall hear thee though chid by his heart reluctant. Rejoicing\n\t<\/p>\n

I shall go forth in thy car or warring by Penthesilea,\n\t<\/p>\n

Famous, give to her grasp the spear that shall smite down Achilles."\n\t<\/p>\n

Smiling answered Aeneas, "Surely will, Eurus, thy prowess\n\t<\/p>\n

Carry thee far to the front; thou shalt fight with Epeus and slay him.\n\t<\/p>\n

Who shall say that this hand was not chosen to pierce Menelaus ?\n\t<\/p>\n

But for a while with the bulls should it rather strive, O hero,\n\t<\/p>\n

Till in the play and the wrestle its softness grow hard1<\/sup> for the smiting."\n\t<\/p>\n

Eagerly Eurus answered, "But they have told me, Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

This is the last of our fights for today will Penthesilea\n\t<\/p>\n

Meet Achilles in battle and slay him ending the Argives.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then shall I never have mixed in this war that is famous for ever.\n\t<\/p>\n

What shall I say when my hairs are white like the aged Antenor’s ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Men will ask, ‘And what were thy deeds in the warfare Titanic ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Whom didst thou slay of the Argives, son of Polydamas,
\n\tavenging <\/p>\n

Bravely thy father ?’ Then must I say, ‘I lurked in the city.\n\t<\/p>\n

I was too young and only ascending the Ilian ramparts\n\t<\/p>\n

Saw the return or the flight, but never the deed and the triumph’ ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Friend, if thou take me not forth, I shall die of grief ere the sunset."\n\t<\/p>\n

Plucking the hand of Aeneas he drew him into the mansion\n\t<\/p>\n

Vast; and over the floor of the spacious hall they hastened\n\t<\/p>\n

Laughing, the gracious child and the mighty hero and statesman,\n\t<\/p>\n

Flower of a present stock and the burdened star of the future.\n\t<\/p>\n

Meanwhile girt by his sons and the sons of his sons in his chamber\n\t<\/p>\n

Cried2<\/sup> to the remnants left of his blood the aged Antenor:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Hearken you who are sprung from my loins and children, their offspring!\n\t<\/p>\n

None shall again go forth to the fight who is kin to Antenor.\n\t<\/p>\n

Weighed with my curse he shall go and the spear-points athirst of the Argives\n\t<\/p>\n

Meet him wroth; he shall die in his sin and his name be forgotten.\n\t<\/p>\n

Oft have I sent forth my blood to be spilled in vain in the battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Fighting for Troy and her greatness earned by my toil and my fathers’.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup>  Alternative to "grow hard" : is trained
\n\t\t<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t2 <\/sup> Spoke <\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-55<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Now all the debt has been, paid; she rejects us driven by the immortals.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\tMuch do we owe to the mother who bore us, much to our country; <\/p>\n

But at the last our life is ours and the gods’ and the future’s.\n\t<\/p>\n

Gather the gold of my house and our kin, O ye sons of Antenor.\n\t<\/p>\n

Warned by a voice in my soul I will go forth tonight from this city,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fleeing the doom and bearing my treasures; the ships shall receive them\n\t<\/p>\n

Gathered, new-keeled by my care and the gods’, in the narrow Propontis.\n\t<\/p>\n

Over God’s waters guided, treading the rage of Poseidon,\n\t<\/p>\n

Bellying out with their sails let them cleave to the untravelled distance\n\t<\/p>\n

Ocean’s crests and resign to their Fates the doomed and the evil."\n\t<\/p>\n

So Antenor spoke and his children heard him in silence;\n\t<\/p>\n

Awed by his voice and the dread of his curse they obeyed, though in sorrow.\n\t<\/p>\n

Halamus only replied to his father: "Dire are the white hairs\n\t<\/p>\n

Reverend, loved, of a father, dreadful his curse to his children.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet in my heart there is one who cries, ’tis the voice of my country,\n\t<\/p>\n

She for whose sake I would be in Tartarus tortured for ever.\n\t<\/p>\n

Pardon me then if thou wilt; if the gods can, then let them pardon.\n\t<\/p>\n

For I will sleep in the dust of Troy embracing her ashes,\n\t<\/p>\n

There where Polydamas sleeps and the many comrades I cherished.\n\t<\/p>\n

So let me go to the darkness remembered or wholly forgotten,\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet having fought for my country, true in my fall to my nation."\n\t<\/p>\n

Then in his aged wrath to Halamus answered Antenor:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Go then and perish doomed with the doomed and the hated of heaven;\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor shall the gods forgive thee dying nor shall thy father."\n\t<\/p>\n

Out from the chamber Halamus strode with grief in his bosom\n\t<\/p>\n

Wrestling with wrath and he went to his doom nor looked back at his dear
\nones.\n<\/p>\n

Crossing the hall the son of Antenor and son of Anchises\n\t<\/p>\n

Met in the paths of their fates where they knotted and crossed for the parting,\n\t<\/p>\n

One with the curse of the gods and his sire fast wending to Hades,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fortunate, blessed the other; yet equal their minds were and virtues.\n\t<\/p>\n

Cypris’ son to the Antenorid: "Thee I have sought and thy brothers,\n\t<\/p>\n

Bough of Antenor; sore is our need today of thy counsels,\n\t<\/p>\n

Endless our want of their arms that are strong and their hearts that recoil
\nnot\n<\/p>\n

Meeting myriads stark with the spear in unequal battle."\n\t<\/p>\n

Halamus answered him: "I will go forth to the palace of Priam,\n\t<\/p>\n

There where Troy yet lives and far from the halls of my fathers;\n\t<\/p>\n

There will I speak, not here. For my kin they repose in the mansion\n\t<\/p>\n

Sitting unarmed in their halls while their brothers fall in the battle."
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-56<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Eurus eagerly answered the hero: "Me rather, therefore,\n\t<\/p>\n

Take to the fight with you; I will make war on the Greeks for my uncles;\n\t<\/p>\n

One for all I will fill their place in the shock with the foemen."\n\t<\/p>\n

But from his chamber-door Antenor heard and rebuked him:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Scamp of my heart, thou torment ! into thy chamber and rest there,\n\t<\/p>\n

Bound with cords lest thou cease, thou flutter-brain, scourged into quiet;\n\t<\/p>\n

So shall thy lust of the fight be healed and our mansion grow tranquil."\n\t<\/p>\n

Chid by the old man Eurus slunk from the hall discontented,\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet with a dubious smile like a moonbeam lighting his beauty.\n\t<\/p>\n

But to Antenor the Dardanid born from the white Aphrodite:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Late the Antenorids learn to flinch from the spears of the Argives,\n\t<\/p>\n

Even this boy of their blood has Polydamas’ heart and his valour.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor should a life that was honoured and noble be stained in its ending.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nay, then, the mood of a child would shame a grey-headed wisdom,\n\t<\/p>\n

If for the fault of the people virtue and Troy were forgotten.\n\t<\/p>\n

For, though the people hear us not, yet are we bound to our nation :\n\t<\/p>\n

Over the people the gods are; over a man is his country;\n\t<\/p>\n

This is the deity first adored by the hearths of the noble.\n\t<\/p>\n

For by our nation’s will we are ruled in the home and the battle\n\t<\/p>\n

And for our nation’s weal we offer our lives and our children’s.\n\t<\/p>\n

Not by their own wills led nor their passions men rise to their manhood,\n\t<\/p>\n

Selfishly seeking their good, but the gods’ and the States’ and the fathers’."\n\t<\/p>\n

Wroth Antenor replied to the warlike son of Anchises:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Great is the soul in thee housed and stern is thy will, O Aeneas;\n\t<\/p>\n

Onward it moves undismayed to its goal though a city be ruined.\n\t<\/p>\n

They too guide thee who deepest see of the
\n\tun ageing immortals, <\/p>\n

One with her heart and one in his spirit, Cypris and Phoebus.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet might a man not knowing this think as he watched thee, Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

‘Spurring Priam’s race to its fall he endangers this city,\n\t<\/p>\n

Hoping to build a throne out of ruins sole in the Troad.’\n\t<\/p>\n

I too have gods who warn me and lead, Athene and Hera.\n\t<\/p>\n

Not as the ways of other mortals are theirs who are guided,\n\t<\/p>\n

They whose eyes are the gods and they walk by a light that is secret."\n\t<\/p>\n

Coldly Aeneas made answer, stirred into wrath by the taunting :\n\t<\/p>\n

"High wert thou always, nurtured in wisdom, ancient Antenor.\n\t<\/p>\n

Walk then favoured and led, yet watch lest passion and evil\n\t<\/p>\n

Feign auguster names and mimic the gait of the deathless."\n\t<\/p>\n

And with a smile on his lips but wrath in his bosom answered,\n\t<\/p>\n

Wisest of men but with wisdom of mortals, aged Antenor :
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-57<\/p>\n

\n

\n

"Led or misled we are mortals and walk by a light that is given;\n\t<\/p>\n

Most they err who deem themselves most from error excluded.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor shalt thou hear in this battle the shout of the men of my lineage\n\t<\/p>\n

Holding the Greeks as once and driving back Fate from their country.\n\t<\/p>\n

His alone will be heard for a space while the stern gods are patient\n\t<\/p>\n

Even now who went forth a victim self-offered to Hades,\n\t<\/p>\n

Last whom their wills have plucked from the fated house of Antenor."\n\t<\/p>\n

They now with wrath in their bosoms sundered for ever and parted.\n\t<\/p>\n

Forth from the hall of Antenor Aeneas rapidly striding\n\t<\/p>\n

Passed1<\/sup> once more through the city hurrying now with its car-wheels,\n\t<\/p>\n

Filled with a mightier rumour of war and the march of its thousands,\n\t<\/p>\n

Till at Troy’s upward curve he found the Antenorid crestward\n\t<\/p>\n

Mounting the steep incline that climbed to the palace of Priam\n\t<\/p>\n

White in her proud and armed citadel. Silent, ascending\n\t<\/p>\n

Hardly their feet had attempted the hill when behind them they hearkened\n\t<\/p>\n

Sweet-tongued a call and the patter and hurry of light-running sandals;\n\t<\/p>\n

Turning they beheld with a flush on his cheeks and a light on his lashes <\/p>\n

Challenging mutely and pleading the boyish beauty of Eurus. <\/p>\n

"Racer to mischief," said Halamus, "couldst thou not sit in thy chamber ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Surely cords and the rod await thee, Eurus, returning."\n\t<\/p>\n

Answered with laughter the child, "I have broken through ranks of the
\nfighters,\n<\/p>\n

Dived under chariot-wheels to arrive here and I return not.\n\t<\/p>\n

I too for counsel of battle have come to the palace of Priam.<\/p>\n

" Burdened with thought they mounted slowly the road of their fathers,\n\t<\/p>\n

Breasting the Ilian hill where Laomedon’s mansion was tented,\n\t<\/p>\n

They from the crest down gazing saw their country’s house-tops\n\t<\/p>\n

Under their feet and heard the murmur of Troya below them.\n\t<\/p>\n

But in the palace of Priam coming and going of house-thralls\n\t<\/p>\n

Filled all the corridors; smoke from the kitchens curled in its plenty\n\t<\/p>\n

Rich with savour and breathed from the labouring lungs of Hephaestus.\n\t<\/p>\n

Far in the halls and the chambers voices travelled and clustered,\n\t<\/p>\n

Anklets jangling ran and sang back from doorway to doorway,\n\t<\/p>\n

Mocking with music of speed and its laughters the haste of the happy,\n\t<\/p>\n

Sound came of arms, there was tread of the great, there were murmurs
\nof women,\u2014\n<\/p>\n

Voices glad of the doomed in Laomedon’s marvellous mansion.\n\t<\/p>\n

Six were the halls of its splendour, a hundred and one were its chambers\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup> Pressed <\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-58<\/p>\n

\n

\n

Lifted high upon columns that soared like the thoughts of its dwellers,\n\t<\/p>\n

Thoughts that transcended the earth though they sank down at last into
\nashes.\n<\/p>\n

So had Apollo dreamed to his lyre; and its tops were a grandeur\n\t<\/p>\n

Domed, as if seeking to roof men’s lives with a hint of the heavens ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Marble his columns rose and with marble his roofs were appointed,\n\t<\/p>\n

Conquered wealth of the world in its largeness suffered, supporting\n\t<\/p>\n

Purities of marble, glories of gold. Nor only of matter\n\t<\/p>\n

Blazed there the brutal pomps, but images mystic or mighty\n\t<\/p>\n

Crowded ceiling and wall, a work that the gods even admire\n\t<\/p>\n

Hardly believing that forms like these were imagined by mortals\n\t<\/p>\n

Here upon earth where sight is a blur and the soul lives encumbered.\n\t<\/p>\n

Scrolls that remembered in gems the thoughts austere of the ancients\n\t<\/p>\n

Bordered the lines of the stone and the forms of serpent and Naiad\n\t<\/p>\n

Ran in relief on those walls of pride in the palace of Priam\n\t<\/p>\n

Mingled with Dryads who tempted and fled and Satyrs who followed,\n\t<\/p>\n

Sports of the nymphs in the sea and the woods and their meetings with
\nmortals,\n<\/p>\n

Sessions and battles of Trojan demigods, deaths that were famous,\n\t<\/p>\n

Wars and loves of men and the deeds of the golden immortals.\n\t<\/p>\n

Pillars sculptured with gods and with giants soared from bases\n\t<\/p>\n

Lion-carved or were seated on bulls and bore into grandeur\n\t<\/p>\n

Amply those halls where they soared, or in1<\/sup> lordliness
\n\tslenderly fashioned, <\/p>\n

Dressed in flowers and reeds like virgins standing on Ida,\n\t<\/p>\n

Guarded the screens of stone and divided alcove and chamber.\n\t<\/p>\n

Ivory carved and broidered robes and the riches of Indus\n\t<\/p>\n

Cherished in sandalwood triumphed and teemed in the palace of Priam ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Doors that were carven and fragrant sheltered the joys of its princes.\n\t<\/p>\n

Here in a chamber of luminous privacy Paris was arming.\n\t<\/p>\n

Near him moved Helen, a whiteness divine and intent on her labour\n\t<\/p>\n

Fastened his cuirass, bound the greaves and settled the hauberk,\n\t<\/p>\n

Thrilling his limbs with her touch that was heaven to the yearning of
\nmortals,\n<\/p>\n

She with her hands of delight caressing the senseless metal\n\t<\/p>\n

Pressed her lips to his brilliant armour ; she bowed down, she whispered\n\t<\/p>\n

"Cuirass, allowed by the gods, protect the beauty of Paris:\n\t<\/p>\n

Keep for me that for which country was lost and my child and my
\nbrothers."\n<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/sup> to.
\n<\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-59<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

Yearning she bent to his feet, to the sandal-strings of her lover;\n\t<\/p>\n

Then as she gazed up, changed grew her mood ; for the Daemon within
\nher\n<\/p>\n

Rose that had banded Greece and was burning Troy into ashes.\n\t<\/p>\n

Slowly a smile that was perfect and perilous over her beauty\n\t<\/p>\n

Dawned like the sunlight on Paradise ; strangely she looked on her lover.\n\t<\/p>\n

So might a goddess have gazed as she played with the love of a mortal\n\t<\/p>\n

Passing an hour on the earth ere she rose up white to Olympus.\n\t<\/p>\n

"So art thou winner, Paris, yet and thy spirit ascendant\n\t<\/p>\n

Leads this Troy where thou wilt, O thou mighty one veiled in thy beauty\n\t<\/p>\n

First in the dance and the revel, first in the joy of the mellay ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Who would not leave for thy sake and repent it not country and homestead?\n\t<\/p>\n

Winning thou reignest still over Troy, over Fate, over Helen.\n\t<\/p>\n

Always so canst thou win ? Has Death no claim on thy beauty,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fate no scourge for thy sins ? How the years have passed by in a glory,\n\t<\/p>\n

Years of this heaven of the gods, O ravisher, since from my hearthstone\n\t<\/p>\n

Seizing thou borest me compelled to thy ships and my joy on the waters.\n\t<\/p>\n

Troy is enringed with the spears, her children fall and her glories,\n\t<\/p>\n

Mighty souls of heroes have gone down prone to the darkness ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou and I abide ! the mothers wail for our pleasure.\n\t<\/p>\n

Wilt thou then keep me for ever, O son of Priam, in Troya ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Fate was my mother, they say, and Zeus for this hour begot me.\n\t<\/p>\n

Art thou a god too, O hero, disguised in this robe of the mortal,\n\t<\/p>\n

Brilliant, careless of death and of sin as if sure of thy rapture ?\n\t<\/p>\n

What then if Fate today were to lay her hand on thee, Paris ?"\n\t<\/p>\n

Calmly he looked on the face of which Greece was enamoured, the body\n\t<\/p>\n

For whose desire great Troy was a sacrifice, tranquil regarded\n\t<\/p>\n

Lovely and dire on the lips he loved that smile of a goddess,\n\t<\/p>\n

Saw the daughter of Zeus in the woman, yet was not shaken.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Temptress of Argos," he answered, "thou snare for the world to be
\nseized in,\n<\/p>\n

Thou then hop’st to escape ! But the gods could not take thee, O Helen,\n\t<\/p>\n

How then thy will that to mine is a captive, or how, though with battle,\n\t<\/p>\n

He who has lost thee, unhappy, the Spartan, bright Menelaus ?\n\t<\/p>\n

All things yield to a man and Zeus is himself his accomplice\n\t<\/p>\n

When like a god he wills without remorse or longing.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou on this earth art mine since I claimed thee beheld, not speaking,\n\t<\/p>\n

But with thy lids that fell thou veiledst thy heart of compliance.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then in whatever beyond I shall know how to take thee,\n\t<\/p>\n

O Helen, Even as here upon earth I knew, in heaven as in Sparta ;
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

I on Elysian fields will enjoy thee as now in the Troad."\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\tSilent a moment she lingered like one who is lured by a music <\/p>\n

Rapturous, heard by himself alone and his lover in heaven,\n\t<\/p>\n

Then in her beauty compelling she rose up divine among women.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Yes, it is good," she cried, "what the gods do and actions of mortals :\n\t<\/p>\n

Good is the play of the world ; it is good, the joy and the torture.\n\t<\/p>\n

Praised be the hour of the gods when I wedded bright Menelaus !\n\t<\/p>\n

Praised, more praised the keels that severed the seas towards Helen\n\t<\/p>\n

Churning the senseless waves that knew not the bliss of their burden!\n\t<\/p>\n

Praised to the end the hour when I passed through the doors of my
\nhusband\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Laughing with joy in my heart for the arms that bore and enchained me !\n\t<\/p>\n

Never can Death undo what life has done for us, Paris.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor, whatever betide, can the hour be unlived of our rapture.\n\t<\/p>\n

This too is good that nations should meet in the shock of the battle,\n\t<\/p>\n

Heroes be slain and a theme be made for the songs of the poets,\n\t<\/p>\n

Songs that shall thrill with the name of Helen, the beauty of Paris.\n\t<\/p>\n

Well is this also that empires should fall for the eyes of a woman,\n\t<\/p>\n

Well that for Helen Hector ended, Memnon was slaughtered,\n\t<\/p>\n

Strong Sarpedon fell and Troilus ceased in his boyhood.\n\t<\/p>\n

Troy for Helen burning, her glory, her empire, her riches,\n\t<\/p>\n

This is the sign of the gods and the type of things that are mortal.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou who art kin to the masters of heaven, unconstrained like thy kindred\n\t<\/p>\n

High on this ancient stage of the Troad with gods for spectators,\n\t<\/p>\n

Play till the end thy part, O thou wondrous and beautiful actor :\n\t<\/p>\n

Fight and slay the Greeks, my countrymen ; victor returning\n\t<\/p>\n

Take for reward of the play, thy delight of Argive Helen.\n\t<\/p>\n

Force from my bosom a hint of the joy denied to the death-claimed,\n\t<\/p>\n

Rob in the kiss of my lips a pang from the raptures of heaven."\n\t<\/p>\n

Clasping him wholly her arms of desire were a girdle of madness,\n\t<\/p>\n

Cestus divine of the dread Aphrodite. He with her kisses\n\t<\/p>\n

Flushed like the gods with unearthly wine and rejoiced in his ruin.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thus while they conversed now in this hour that was near to their
\nparting\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Last upon earth, a fleet-footed slave girl came to the chamber:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Paris, thy father and mother desire thee ; there in the strangers’\n\t<\/p>\n

Outer hall Aeneas and Halamus wait for thy coming."\n\t<\/p>\n

So with the Argive he wended to Priam’s ample chamber\n\t<\/p>\n

Far in Laomedon’s house where Troy looked upwards to Ida.\n\t<\/p>\n

Priam and Hecuba there, the ancient grey-haired rulers\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-61<\/p>\n

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\n

Waiting him sat in their chairs of ivory calm in their greatness ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Hid in her robes at their feet lay Cassandra crouched from her visions.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Since, O my father," said Paris, "thy thoughts have been with me, thy
\nblessing\n<\/p>\n

Surely shall help me today in my strife with the strength of Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

Surely the gods shall obey in the end the might of our spirits,\n\t<\/p>\n

[Pallas and Hera, flame-sandalled Artemis, Zeus and Apollo.]\n\t<\/p>\n

Ever serve the immortal bright nesses man when he stands up\n\t<\/p>\n

Firm with his will uplifted a steadfast flame towards the heavens,\n\t<\/p>\n

Ares works in his heart and Hephaestus burns in his labour."\n\t<\/p>\n

Priam replied to his son : "Fore willed by the gods, Alexander,\n\t<\/p>\n

All things happen on earth and yet we must strive who are mortals.\n\t<\/p>\n

Knowing all vain, yet we strive ; for our nature seizing us always\n\t<\/p>\n

Drives like the flock that is herded and urged towards shambles or pasture.\n\t<\/p>\n

So have the gods fashioned these tools of their action and pleasure ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Failure and grief are their engines no less than the might of the victor ;\n\t<\/p>\n

They in the blow descend and resist in the sobs of the smitten.\n\t<\/p>\n

Such are their goads that I too must walk in the paths that are common,\n\t<\/p>\n

Even I who know must send for thee, moved by Cassandra.\n\t<\/p>\n

Speak, O my child, since Apollo has willed it, once, and be silent."\n\t<\/p>\n

But in her raiment hidden Cassandra answered her father :\n\t<\/p>\n

"No, for my heart has changed since I cried for him, vexed by Apollo.\n\t<\/p>\n

Why should I speak ? For who will believe me in Troy ? who believed mc\n\t<\/p>\n

Ever in Troy or the world ? Event and disaster approve me\n\t<\/p>\n

Only, my comrades, not men in their thoughts, not my brothers and kinsmen.\n\t<\/p>\n

All by their hopes are gladly deceived and grow wroth with the
\n\tWarner, <\/p>\n

Half-blind prophets of hope entertained by the gods in the mortal !\n\t<\/p>\n

Wiser blind, if nothing they saw or only the darkness.\n\t<\/p>\n

I too once hoped when Apollo pursued me with love in his temple,\n\t<\/p>\n

Round me already there gleamed the ray of the vision prophetic,\n\t<\/p>\n

Thrill of that rapture I felt and the joy of the god in his seeing,\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor did I know that the knowledge of mortals is bound unto blindness.\n\t<\/p>\n

Either only they walk mid the coloured dreams of the senses\n\t<\/p>\n

Treading the greenness of earth and deeming the touch of things real,\n\t<\/p>\n

Or if they see, by the curse of the gods their sight into falsehood\n\t<\/p>\n

Easily turns and leads them more stumbling astray than the sightless.\n\t<\/p>\n

So are we either blind in a darkness or dazzled by seeing.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thus have the gods protected their purpose and baffled the sages ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Over the face of the Truth their shield of gold is extended.\n\t<\/p>\n

But I deemed otherwise, urged by the Dreadful One, he who sits always
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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\n

Veiled in us fighting the gods whom he uses. I cried to Apollo :\n\t<\/p>\n

‘Give me thy vision sheer, not such as thou giv’st to thy prophets,\n\t<\/p>\n

Troubled though luminous ; clear be the vision and ruthless to error,\n\t<\/p>\n

Far-darting god who are veiled by the sun and by death thou art shielded.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then I shall know that thou lovest.’ He gave, alarmed and reluctant,\n\t<\/p>\n

Driven by Fate and his heart ; but I mocked him, I broke from my
\npromise ;\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Courage fatal helping my heart to its ruin with laughter.\n\t<\/p>\n

Always now I remember his face that grew tranquil and ruthless,\n\t<\/p>\n

Hear the voice divine and implacable: ‘Since thou deceivest\n\t<\/p>\n

Even the gods and thou hast not feared to lie to Apollo,\n\t<\/p>\n

Speak shalt thou henceforth only truth, but none shall believe thee :\n\t<\/p>\n

Scorned in thy words, rejected yet more for their bitter fulfilment,\n\t<\/p>\n

Scourged by the gods thou must speak though thy sick heart yearns to be
\nsilent.\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

For in this play thou hast dared to play with the masters of heaven,\n\t<\/p>\n

Girl, it is thou who hast lost ; thy voice is mine and thy bosom.’\n\t<\/p>\n

Since then all I foreknow ; therefore anguish is mine for my portion :\n\t<\/p>\n

Since then all whom I love must perish slain by my loving.\n\t<\/p>\n

Even of that I denied him, violent force shall bereave me\n\t<\/p>\n

Grasped mid the flames of my city and shouts of her merciless victors."\n\t<\/p>\n

But to Cassandra answered gently the voice of her brother:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Sister of mine, afflicted and seized by the dreadful Apollo,\n\t<\/p>\n

All whose eyes can pierce that curtain, gaze into dimness ;\n\t<\/p>\n

This they have glimpsed and that they imagine deceived by their natures\n\t<\/p>\n

Seeing the forms in their hearts of dreadful things and of joyous ;\n\t<\/p>\n

As in the darkness our eyes are deceived by shadows uncertain,\n\t<\/p>\n

Such is their sight who rend the veil that the dire gods have woven.\n\t<\/p>\n

Busy our hearts are weaving thoughts and images always ;\n\t<\/p>\n

After their kind they see what here we call truth. So thy nature\n\t<\/p>\n

Tender and loving, plagued by this war and its fear for thy loved ones,\n\t<\/p>\n

Sees calamity everywhere ; when the event like the vision\n\t<\/p>\n

Seems, as in every war the beloved must fall and the cherished,\n\t<\/p>\n

Then the heart cries, ‘It has happened as all shall happen I mourn for.’\n\t<\/p>\n

All that was bright it misses and only seizes on sorrow.\n\t<\/p>\n

Dear, on the brightness look and if thou must prophesy, tell us\n\t<\/p>\n

Rather of great Pelides slain by my spear in the onset."\n\t<\/p>\n

But with a voice of grief the sister answered her brother:\n\t<\/p>\n

"Yes, he shall fall and his slayer too shall perish and Troy with his slayer."\n\t<\/p>\n

But in his spirit rejoicing Paris answered Cassandra ;
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

"Let but this word come true ; for the rest, the gods shall avert it.\n\t<\/p>\n

Look once more, O Cassandra, and comfort the heart of thy mother,\n\t<\/p>\n

See, O seer, my safe return with the spoils of Achilles."\n\t<\/p>\n

And with a voice of grief the sister answered her brother :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Thou shalt return for thy hour while Troy yet stands in the sunshine."\n\t<\/p>\n

But in his spirit exultant Paris seizing the omen,\n\t<\/p>\n

"Hearst thou, my father, my mother ? She who still prophesied evil\n\t<\/p>\n

Now perceives of our night this dawning. Yet is it grievous,\n\t<\/p>\n

Since through a heart that we love must be pierced the heart of Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

Fate, with this evil satisfied, turn in the end from Troya.\n\t<\/p>\n

Bless me, my father, and thou, O Hecuba, mother long-patient,\n\t<\/p>\n

Still forgive that thy children have fallen for Helen and Paris."\n\t<\/p>\n

Tenderly yearning his mother drew him towards her and murmured :\n\t<\/p>\n

"All for thy hyacinth curls was forgiven even from childhood\n\t<\/p>\n

And for thy sunlit looks, O wonder of charm, O Paris.\n\t<\/p>\n

Paris, my son, though Troy must fall, thy mother forgives thee,\n\t<\/p>\n

Blessing the gods who have lent thee to me for a while in their sunshine.\n\t<\/p>\n

Theirs are fate and result, but ours is the joy of our children ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Even the griefs are dear that come from their hands while they love us.\n\t<\/p>\n

Fight and slay Achilles, the murderer dire of thy brothers ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Venging Hector return, my son, to the clasp of thy mother."\n\t<\/p>\n

But in his calm august to Paris Priam the monarch,\n\t<\/p>\n

"Victor so mightst thou come, so gladden the heart of thy mother."\n\t<\/p>\n

Then to the aged father of Paris Helen the Argive\n\t<\/p>\n

Bright and immortal and sad like a star that grows near to the dawning\n\t<\/p>\n

And on its pale companions looks who now fade from its vision :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Me too pardon and love, my parents, even Helen,\n\t<\/p>\n

Cause of all bane and all death ; but I came from the gods for this ruin\n\t<\/p>\n

Born as a torch for the burning of empires, cursed with this beauty.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor have I known a father’s embrace, a mother’s caresses,\n\t<\/p>\n

But to the distant gods I was born and nursed as an alien\n\t<\/p>\n

Here by earth from fear, not affection, compelled by the thunders.\n\t<\/p>\n

Two are her monstrous births, from the furies and from the immortals ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Either touching mortality suffers and bears not the contact.\n\t<\/p>\n

I have been both, a monster of doom and a portent of beauty."\n\t<\/p>\n

Slowly Priam the monarch answered to Argive Helen :\n\t<\/p>\n

"That which thou art the gods have made thee ; thou couldst not be other :\n\t<\/p>\n

That which thou didst, the gods have done ; thou couldst not prevent them.\n\t<\/p>\n

Who here shall blame or whom shall he pardon ? Should not my people\n\t<\/p>\n

Rail at me murmuring, ‘Priam has lost what his fathers had gathered ;
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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\n

Cursed is this king by heaven and cursed who are born as his subjects’ ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Masked the high gods act ; the doer is hid by his working.\n\t<\/p>\n

Each of us bears his punishment, fruit of a seed that’s forgotten ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Each of us curses his neighbour protecting his heart with illusions :\n\t<\/p>\n

Therefore like children we blame each other and hate and are angry.\n\t<\/p>\n

Take, my child, the joy of the sunshine won by thy beauty.\n\t<\/p>\n

I who lodge on this earth as an alien bound by the body,\n\t<\/p>\n

Wearing my sorrow even as I wear the imperial purple,\n\t<\/p>\n

Praise yet the gods for my days that have seen thee at last in my ending.\n\t<\/p>\n

Fitly Troy may cease having gazed on thy beauty, O Helen."\n\t<\/p>\n

He became silent, he ceased from words. But Paris and Helen\n\t<\/p>\n

Lightly went forth and gladly ; pursuing their footsteps the mother,\n\t<\/p>\n

Mother once of Troilus, mother once of Hector,\n\t<\/p>\n

Stood at the door with her death in her eyes, nor returned from her
\nyearning,\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But as one after a vanishing sunbeam gazes in prison,\n\t<\/p>\n

Gazed down the corridors after him, long who had passed from her vision.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then in the silent chamber Cassandra seized by Apollo\n\t<\/p>\n

Staggered erect and tossing her snow-white arms of affliction\n\t<\/p>\n

Cried to the heavens in her pain ; for the fierce god tortured her bosom :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Woe is me, woe for the guile and the bitter gift of Apollo !\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe, thrice woe, for my birth in Troy and the lineage of Teucer !\n\t<\/p>\n

So do you deal, O gods, with those who have served you and laboured,\n\t<\/p>\n

Those who have borne for your sake the evil burden of greatness.\n\t<\/p>\n

Blessed is he who holds mattock in hand or who bends o’er the furrow\n\t<\/p>\n

Taking no thought for the good of mankind, with no yearnings for
\nknowledge.\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Woe unto me for my wisdom which none shall value nor hearken !\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe unto thee, O King, for thy strength which shall not deliver !\n\t<\/p>\n

Better the eye that is sealed, more blest is the spirit that’s feeble.\n\t<\/p>\n

Vainly your hopes with iron Necessity struggle, O mortals.\n\t<\/p>\n

Virtue shall lie in her pangs, for the gods have need of her torture ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Sin shall be scourged, though her deeds were compelled by the gods in
\ntheir anger.\n<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

None shall avail in the end, the coward shall die and the hero.\n\t<\/p>\n

Troy shall fall in her sin and her virtues shall not protect her ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Argos shall grow by her crimes till the gods shall destroy her for ever.\n\t<\/p>\n

Now have I fruit of thy love, O Loxias, dreadful Apollo.\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe is me, woe for the flame that approaches the house of my fathers I\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\tWoe is me, woe for the hand of Ajax laid on my tresses ! <\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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\n

Woe, thrice woe to him who shall ravish and him who shall cherish !\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe for the ships that shall bound too swift o’er the azure Aegean !\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe for thy splendid shambles of hell, O Argive Mycenae !\n\t<\/p>\n

Woe for the evil spouse and house accursed of Atreus !"\n\t<\/p>\n

So with her voice of the swan she clanged out doom on the peoples,\n\t<\/p>\n

Over the palace of Priam and over the armed nation\n\t<\/p>\n

Marching resolved to the war in the pride of its centuries conquered,\n\t<\/p>\n

Centuries slain by a single day of the anger of heaven.\n\t<\/p>\n

Dim to the thoughts like a vision of Hades the luminous chamber\n\t<\/p>\n

Grew ; in his ivory chair King Priam sat like a shadow\n\t<\/p>\n

Throned mid the ghosts of departed kings and forgotten empires.\n\t<\/p>\n

But in his valiance careless and blithe the Priamid hastened\n\t<\/p>\n

Seeking the pillared megaron wide where Deiphobus armoured\n\t<\/p>\n

Waited his coming forth with the warlike chiefs
\n\tof the Trojans. <\/p>\n

Now as he passed by the halls of the women, the chambers that harboured\n\t<\/p>\n

Daughters and wives of King Priam and wives of his sons and their
\nplaymates,\n<\/p>\n

Niches of joy that were peopled with murmurs and sweet-tongued laughters,\n\t<\/p>\n

Troubled like trees with their birds in a morning of sun and of shadow\n\t<\/p>\n

Where in some garden of kings one walks with his heart in the sunshine,\n\t<\/p>\n

Out from her door where she stood for him waiting Polyxena started,\n\t<\/p>\n

Seized his hand and looked in his face and spoke to her brother.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then not even the brilliant strength of Paris availed him ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Joyless he turned his face from her eyes of beauty and sorrow.\n\t<\/p>\n

"So is it come, the hour that I feared, and thou goest, O Paris,\n\t<\/p>\n

Armed with the strength of Fate to strike at my heart in the battle ;\n\t<\/p>\n

For he is doomed and thou and I, a victim to Hades.\n\t<\/p>\n

This thou
\n\tprefer rest and neither thy father could move nor thy mother <\/p>\n

Burning with Troy in their palace, nor could thy country persuade thee,\n\t<\/p>\n

Nor dost thou care for thy sister’s happiness pierced by thy arrows.\n\t<\/p>\n

Will she remember it all, my sister Helen, in Argos\n\t<\/p>\n

Passing tranquil days with her husband, bright Menelaus,\n\t<\/p>\n

Holding her child on her knees ? But we shall lie joyless in Hades."\n\t<\/p>\n

Paris replied : "O my sister Polyxena, blame me not wholly.\n\t<\/p>\n

We by the gods are ensnared ; for the pitiless white Aphrodite\n\t<\/p>\n

Doing her will with us both compels this. Helpless our hearts are\n\t<\/p>\n

And when she drives perforce must love, for death or for gladness :\n\t<\/p>\n

Weighed in unequal scales she deals them to one or another.\n\t<\/p>\n

Happy who holding his love can go down into bottomless Hades."\n\t<\/p>\n

But to her brother replied in her anguish the daughter of Priam ;
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

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<\/p>\n

"Evilly deal with thy days the immortals happy in heaven ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Yes, I accuse the gods and I curse them who heed not our sorrow.\n\t<\/p>\n

This they have done with me, forcing my heart to the love of a foeman,\n\t<\/p>\n

One whose terrible hands have been stained with the blood of my brothers,\n\t<\/p>\n

This now they do, they have taken the two whom I love beyond heaven,\n\t<\/p>\n

Brother and husband, and drive to the fight to be slain by each other.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nay, go thou forth ; for thou canst not help it, nor I, nor can Helen.\n\t<\/p>\n

Since I must die as a pageant to satisfy Zeus and his daughter,\n\t<\/p>\n

Since now my heart must be borne as a victim bleeding to please them,\n\t<\/p>\n

So let it be, let me deck myself and be bright for the altar."\n\t<\/p>\n

Into her chamber she turned with her great eyes blind, unregarding ;\n\t<\/p>\n

He for a moment stood, then passed to the megaron slowly ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Dim was the light in his eyes and clouded his glorious beauty.\n\t<\/p>\n

Meanwhile armed in the palace of Priam Penthesilea.\n\t<\/p>\n

Near her her captains silent and mighty stood, from the Orient\n\t<\/p>\n

Distant clouds of war, Surabdas and iron Surenas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Pharatus planned like the hills, Somaranes, Valarus, Tauron,\n\t<\/p>\n

High-crested Sumalus, Arithon, Sambas and Artavoruxes.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\tThere too the princes of Phrygian Troya gathered for counsel <\/p>\n

And with them Eurus came, Polydamas’ son, who most dearly\n\t<\/p>\n

Loved was of all the Trojan boys by the glorious virgin.\n\t<\/p>\n

She from her arming stayed to caress his curls and to chide him :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Eurus, forgotten of grace, dost thou gad like a stray in the city\n\t<\/p>\n

Eager to mix with the armoured men and the chariots gliding?\n\t<\/p>\n

High on the roofs wouldst thou watch the swaying speck that is battle ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Better to aim with the dart or seek with thy kind the palaestra ;\n\t<\/p>\n

So wilt thou sooner be part of this greatness rather than straining\n\t<\/p>\n

Yearn from afar to the distance that veils the deeds of the mighty."\n\t<\/p>\n

But with an anxious lure in his smile on her Eurus answered ;\n\t<\/p>\n

"Not that remoteness to see have I come to the palace of Priam\n\t<\/p>\n

Leaving the house of my fathers, but for the spear and the breast-piece.\n\t<\/p>\n

Hast thou not promised me, long I shall fight in thy car with Achilles ?"\n\t<\/p>\n

Doubtful he eyed her, a lion’s cub at play in his beauty,\n\t<\/p>\n

And mid the heroes who heard him laughter arose for a moment,\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet with a sympathy stirred ; they remembered the days of their childhood,\n\t<\/p>\n

Thinking1<\/sup> of Troy still mighty, life in its rose-touched dawning\n\t<\/p>\n

When they had longed for the clash of the fight and the burden of armour.\n\t<\/p>\n

Glad, with the pride of the lioness watching her cub in the desert,\u2014\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup>  Thought <\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

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Couchant she lies with her paws before her and joys in his gambols,\n\t<\/p>\n

Over the prey as he frisks and is careless,\u2014answered the virgin :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Younger than thou in my nation have mounted the steed and the war-car.\n\t<\/p>\n

Eurus, arm ; from under my shield thou shalt gaze at the Pthian,\n\t<\/p>\n

Reaching my shafts for the cast from the rim of my car in the battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Handle perhaps the spear that shall smite down the Pthian Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

What sayst thou, Halamus ? Were not such prowess a perfect beginning\n\t<\/p>\n

Worthy Polydamas’ son and the warlike house of Antenor ?"\n\t<\/p>\n

Halamus started and smiting his hand on the grief of his bosom\n\t<\/p>\n

Sombre replied and threatened with Fate the high-hearted virgin.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Virgin armipotent, wherefore mockst thou thy friend, though unwitting ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Nay,\u2014for the world will know at the end and my death cannot hide it,\u2014\n\t<\/p>\n

Slain by a father’s curse we fight who are kin to Antenor.\n\t<\/p>\n

Take not the boy in thy car, lest the Furies, Penthesilea,\n\t<\/p>\n

Aim through the shield and the shielder to wreak the curse of the grandsire.\n\t<\/p>\n

They will not turn nor repent for thy strength nor his delicate beauty."\n\t<\/p>\n

Swiftly to Halamus answered the high-crested strength of the virgin :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Curses leave lightly the lips when the soul of a man is in anger\n\t<\/p>\n

Even as blessings easily crowd round the head that is cherished.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet have I never seen that a curse has sharpened a spear-point ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Never Death has drawn1<\/sup> back from the doomed by the power of a blessing.\n\t<\/p>\n

Valour and skill and chance are Fate and the gods and the furies.\n\t<\/p>\n

Give me the boy ; a hero shall come back formed from the onset."\n\t<\/p>\n

"Do as thou wilt," replied Halamus, "Fate shall guard or shall end him".\n\t<\/p>\n

Then to the boy delighted and smiling-eyed and exultant\n\t<\/p>\n

Cried with her voice like the call of heaven’s bugles Penthesilea :2
\n\t<\/sup><\/p>\n

"Go, find the spear, gird the sword, don the cuirass, child of the mighty.\n\t<\/p>\n

Armed when thou standest on the plain of the Xanthus, field of thy fathers,\n\t<\/p>\n

See that thou fight on this day like the comrade of Penthesilea.\n\t<\/p>\n

Bud of a hero, gaze unalarmed in the eyes of Achilles."\n\t<\/p>\n

Light as a hound released he ran to the hall of the armour\n\t<\/p>\n

Where were the shields of the mighty, the arms of the mansion of Teucer ;\n\t<\/p>\n

There from the house-thralls he wrung the greaves and the cuirass and
\nhelmet\n<\/p>\n

Troilus wore, the wonderful boy who, ere ripened his prowess,\n\t<\/p>\n

Conquered the Greeks and drove to the ships and fought with Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup> Alternative to "has drawn" : drew.
\n\t\t<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t2<\/sup> Cried with her voice like the call of heaven’s bugles waking the heroes. Blown by the lips of gold-haired Valkyries. Penthesilea:
\n\t\t<\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-68<\/p>\n

\n

\n

<\/p>\n

\n

These on his boyish limbs he donned and ran back exulting\n\t<\/p>\n

Bearing spears and a sword and rejoiced in the clank on his armour.\n\t<\/p>\n

Meanwhile Deiphobus, head of the mellay, moved by Aeneas\n\t<\/p>\n

Opened the doors of their warlike debate to the strength of the virgin :\n\t<\/p>\n

"Well do I hope that our courage out wearying every opponent\n\t<\/p>\n

Triumph shall lift to her ancient seat on the Pergaman turrets ;\n\t<\/p>\n

Clouds from Zeus come and pass ; his sunshine eternal survives them.\n\t<\/p>\n

Yet we are few in the fight and armoured nations besiege us.\n\t<\/p>\n

Surging on Troy today a numberless foe well-captained\n\t<\/p>\n

Hardly pushed back in shock after shock with the Myrmidon numbers\n\t<\/p>\n

Swelled returns ; they fight with a hope that broken refashion\n\t<\/p>\n

Helpful skies and a man now leads them who conquers and slaughters,\n\t<\/p>\n

One of the sons of the gods and armed by the gods for the struggle.\n\t<\/p>\n

We
\n\tunhealed save by Ares stern and the mystic <\/p>\n

Apollo And but as mortals striving with stubborn mortal courage,\n\t<\/p>\n

Hated and scorned and alone in the world by the nations rejected,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fight with the gods and mankind and Achilles and numbers against us,\n\t<\/p>\n

Keeping our country from death in this bitter hour of her fortunes.\n\t<\/p>\n

Therefore have prudence and hardihood severed contending our counsels\n\t<\/p>\n

Whether far out to fight on the seaward plain with the Argives\n\t<\/p>\n

Or behind Xanthus the river impetuous friendly to Troya.\n\t<\/p>\n

This my brother approves and the son of Antenor advises,\n\t<\/p>\n

Prudent masters of war who prepare by defence their aggression.\n\t<\/p>\n

But for myself from rashness I seek a more far-seeing wisdom,\n\t<\/p>\n

Not behind vain
\n\tdefenses choosing a tardy destruction, <\/p>\n

Rather as Zeus with his spear of the lightning and chariot of tempest\n\t<\/p>\n

Scatters and chases the heavy mass of the clouds through the heavens,\n\t<\/p>\n

So would I hunt the Greeks through the plains to their lair by the Ocean,\n\t<\/p>\n

Straight at the throat of my foeman so would I leap in the battle.\n\t<\/p>\n

Swiftly to smite at the foe is prudence for armies outnumbered."\n\t<\/p>\n

Then to the Dardanid answered the high-crested Penthesilea :\n\t<\/p>\n

"There where I find my foe I will fight him, whether by Xanthus\n\t<\/p>\n

Or at the fosse of the ships where they crouch behind bulwarks for shelter,\n\t<\/p>\n

Or if they dare by Scamander the higher marching on Troya."\n\t<\/p>\n

Sternly approved her the Trojan, "So should they fight who would triumph\n\t<\/p>\n

Meeting the foe ere he moves in his will to the clash of encounter."\n\t<\/p>\n

But with his careless laughter the brilliant Priamid Paris;\n\t<\/p>\n

"Joy of the battle, joy of the tempest, joy of the gamble\n\t<\/p>\n

Mated are in thy blood, O virgin, daughter of Ares,\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou like the deathless wouldst have us combat, us who are human?
\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-69<\/p>\n

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\n

Come, let the gods do their will with us, Ares let lead and his daughter !\n\t<\/p>\n

Always the blood is wiser and knows what is hid from the thinker.\n\t<\/p>\n

Life and treasure and fame to cast on the wings of a moment,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fiercer joy than this the gods have not given to mortals."\n\t<\/p>\n

Highly to Paris answered the virgin armipotent Penthesilea,\n\t<\/p>\n

"Paris and Halamus, shafts of the war-god, fear not for Troya.\n\t<\/p>\n

Not as a vaunt do I speak it, you gods who stern-toughed watch us,\n\t<\/p>\n

But in my vision of strength and the soul that is seated within me,\n\t<\/p>\n

Not while I live and war, shall the host of the Myrmidon fighters\n\t<\/p>\n

Forcing the currents, lave as once they were wont, in Scamander\n\t<\/p>\n

Vaunting their victor car-wheels red with the blood of the vanquished.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then when I lie by some war-god slain on the fields of the Troad,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fight again if you will behind high-banked fast-flowing Xanthus."\n\t<\/p>\n

Halamus answered her, "Never so by my will would I battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Flinging Troy as a stake on the doubtful diceboard of Ares.\n\t<\/p>\n

But you have willed it and so let it be; yet hearken my counsel.\n\t<\/p>\n

Massed in the fight let us aim the storm of our spears at one greatness,\n\t<\/p>\n

Mighty Pelides’ head who gives victory still to the Argives.\n\t<\/p>\n

Easy the Greeks to destroy if Achilles once slain on the Troad,\n\t<\/p>\n

But if the Peleid lives the fire shall yet finish with Troya.\n\t<\/p>\n

Join then Orestes’ speed to the stubborn might of Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Paris’ fatal shafts and the missiles of Penthesilea.\n\t<\/p>\n

Others meanwhile a puissant screen of our bravest and strongest\n\t<\/p>\n

Fighting shall hold back Pylos and Argolis, Crete and the Locrian.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou, Deiphobus, front the bronze-clad stern Diomedes,\n\t<\/p>\n

I with Polydamas’ spear will dare to restrain and discourage\n\t<\/p>\n

Ajax’ feet though they yearn for pursuit and are hungry for swiftness;\n\t<\/p>\n

Knot of retreat behind let some strong experienced captain\n\t<\/p>\n

Stand with our younger levies guarding the fords of the Xanthus,\n\t<\/p>\n

Fortify the wavering line and dawn as fresh strength on the wearied.\n\t<\/p>\n

Then if the fierce gods prevail we shall perish not driven like cattle\n\t<\/p>\n

Over the plains, but draw back sternly and slowly to Troya."\n\t<\/p>\n

Answered the Priamid, "Wise is thy counsel, branch of Antenor.\n\t<\/p>\n

Chaff are the southern Achaians, only the hardihood Hellene,\n\t<\/p>\n

Only the savage speed of the Locrian rescues their legions.\n\t<\/p>\n

Marshal we so the field. Stand, Halamus, covering Xanthus,\n\t<\/p>\n

Helping our need when the foe press hard on the J\n\t<\/p>\n

Paris, my brother, thou with our masses aid the Eoan.\n\t<\/p>\n

I with Aeneas’ single spear am enough for the Argive."\n\t<\/p>\n

"Gladlier," Halamus cried, "would I fight in the front with the Locrian !\n\t<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-70<\/p>\n

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\n

This too let be as you will; for one is the glory and service\n\t<\/p>\n

Fighting in front or guarding behind the fate of our country."\n\t<\/p>\n

So in their thoughts they ordered battle. Meanwhile Eurus\n\t<\/p>\n

Gleaming returned and the room grew glad with the light of his armour.\n\t<\/p>\n

Glad were its conscious walls of that vision of boyhood and valour;\n\t<\/p>\n

Gods of the household sighed and smiled at his courage and beauty,\n\t<\/p>\n

They who had seen so many pass over their floors and return not\n\t<\/p>\n

Hasting to battle, the fair and mighty, the curled and the grizzled,\n\t<\/p>\n

All of them treading one path like the conscious masks of one pageant\n\t<\/p>\n

Winding past through the glare of a light to the shadows1<\/sup> beyond them.\n\t<\/p>\n

But on her captains proudly smiling Penthesilea\n\t<\/p>\n

Seized him and cried aloud, her wild and warlike nature\n\t<\/p>\n

Moved by the mother’s heart that the woman loses not ever.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Who then shall fear for the fate of Troy when such are her children ?\n\t<\/p>\n

Verily, Eurus, yearning has seized me to meet thee in battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Rather than Locrian Ajax, rather than Pthian Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

There acquiring a deathless fame I would make thee my captive,\n\t<\/p>\n

Greedy and glad who feel as a lioness eyeing her booty.\n\t<\/p>\n

Nay, I can never leave thee behind, my delicate Trojan,\n\t<\/p>\n

But, when this war ends, will bear thee away to the hills of my country\n\t<\/p>\n

And, as a robber might, with my captive glad and unwilling\n\t<\/p>\n

Bring thee a perfect gift to my sisters Ditis and Anna.\n\t<\/p>\n

Eurus, there in my land thou shalt look on such hills as thy vision\n\t<\/p>\n

Gazed not on yet, with their craggy tops besieging Cronion.\n\t<\/p>\n

Sheeted in virgin white and chilling his feet with their vastness.\n\t<\/p>\n

Thou shalt rejoice in our wooded peaks and our fruit-bearing valleys,\n\t<\/p>\n

Lakes of Elysium dreaming and wide and rivers of wonder.\n\t<\/p>\n

All day long thou shalt glide between mystic woodlands in silence\n\t<\/p>\n

Broken only by call of the birds and the plashing of waters.\n\t<\/p>\n

There shalt thou see, O Eurus, the childhood of Penthesilea,\n\t<\/p>\n

There shalt repose in my father’s house and walk in the gardens\n\t<\/p>\n

Green where I played at the ball with my sisters Ditis and Anna."\n\t<\/p>\n

Musing she ceased, but if any god had touched her with prescience\n\t<\/p>\n

Bidding her think for the last time now of the haunts of her childhood\n\t<\/p>\n

Gazing in her soul with a parting love at the thought of her sisters\n\t<\/p>\n

And of the lovely and distant land where she played through her summers,\n\t<\/p>\n

Brief was the touch; for she changed at once and only of triumph\n\t<\/p>\n

Dreamed and only yearned in her heart for the shock of Achilles.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup> darkness <\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-71<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

So they passed from the halls of Priam fated and lofty,\n\t<\/p>\n

Halls where the air seemed sobbing yet with the cry of Cassandra;\n\t<\/p>\n

Clad in their brilliant armour, bright in their beauty and courage,\n\t<\/p>\n

Sons of the passing demigods, they to their latest battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Down the ancestral hill of the
\n\tPergama’s, moved to the gateway <\/p>\n

Loud with an endless march, with a tireless gliding to meet them\n\t<\/p>\n

All Troy streamed from her streets and her palaces armed for the combat;\n\t<\/p>\n

Then to the voice of Deiphobus clanging high o’er the rumour\n\t<\/p>\n

Wide the portals swung that shall close on blood-red evening,\n\t<\/p>\n

Slow, foreboding, reluctant, and through the yawn of the gateway\n\t<\/p>\n

Drove with a cry her steeds the virgin Penthesilea\n\t<\/p>\n

Calling aloud, "O steeds of my east, we drive to Achilles."\n\t<\/p>\n

Blithe in the car behind her Eurus scouted around him\n\t<\/p>\n

Scared with his eyes lest Antenor his grandsire should rise in the gateway,\n\t<\/p>\n

Hardly believing his fate that led him safe through the portals.\n\t<\/p>\n

After her trampled and crashed the ranks of her orient fighters.\n\t<\/p>\n

Paris next with his hosts came brilliant, gold on his armour,\n\t<\/p>\n

Gold on his helm; a mighty bow hung slack on his shoulder,\n\t<\/p>\n

Propped o’er his arm a spear, as he drove his car through the gateway.\n\t<\/p>\n

Next Deiphobus drove and the hero strong Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Leading their numbers on. Behind them Dus and Polites,\n\t<\/p>\n

Helenus, Priam’s son, Thrasymachus, grizzled Aretes,\n\t<\/p>\n

Came like the tempest his father, Aiamos, son of the Northwind\u2014\n\t<\/p>\n

Orus old in the battle1<\/sup> and Eumachus, kin to Aeneas,\n\t<\/p>\n

Who was Creilsa’s brother and richest of men in the Troad\n\t<\/p>\n

After Antenor only and Priam, Ilion’s monarch.\n\t<\/p>\n

Halamus drove and Corecbus2<\/sup> led on his Lycian levies.\n\t<\/p>\n

Who were the last to speed out of Troya of all those legions\n\t<\/p>\n

Doomed to the sword ? for never again from the ancient city\n\t<\/p>\n

Foot would march or chariots crash in their pride to the Xanthus.\n\t<\/p>\n

Aetor the old and Tryas the conqueror known by the Oxus,\n\t<\/p>\n

They in the portals met and their ancient eyes on each other\n\t<\/p>\n

Looked amazed, admiring on age the harness of battle.\n\t<\/p>\n

They in the turreted head of the gateway talked and conversed.\n\t<\/p>\n

"Twenty years have passed, O Tryas, chief of the Trojans,\n\t<\/p>\n

Since in the battle thy car was seen and the arm of thy prowess\n\t<\/p>\n

Age has wronged. Why now to the crowded ways of the battle\n\t<\/p>\n

Move once more thy body infirm and thy eyes that are faded ?"\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup> fight                     2<\/sup> Arintheus
\n\t\t<\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-72<\/p>\n

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\n

And to Antenor’s brother the Teucrian, "Thou too, O Aetor,\n\t<\/p>\n

Old and weary hast sat in thy halls and desisted from battle.\n\t<\/p>\n

Now in Troy’s portals I meet thee driving forth to the mellay."\n\t<\/p>\n

Aetor answered; "Which then is better, to wretchedly perish\n\t<\/p>\n

Crushed by the stones of my falling house or slain like a victim\n\t<\/p>\n

Dragged through the blood of my kin on the sacred hearth of my fathers,\n\t<\/p>\n

Or in the battle to cease mid the war-shouting hymn of chariots\n\t<\/p>\n

Knowing that Troy yet stands in her pride though doomed in her morrows?\n\t<\/p>\n

So have the young men willed and the old like thee who age not,\n\t<\/p>\n

Old are thy limbs, but thy heart still young and hot for the war-din."\n\t<\/p>\n

Tryas replied: "To perish is better for man or for nation\n\t<\/p>\n

Nobly in battle, nor end disgraced by disease or subjection.\n\t<\/p>\n

So have I come here to offer this shoulder Laomedon leaned on,\n\t<\/p>\n

Arms that have fought by the Oxus and conquered the Orient’s heroes\n\t<\/p>\n

Famous in Priam’s wars, and a heart that is faithful to Troya.\n\t<\/p>\n

These I will offer to death on his splendid altar of battle,\n\t<\/p>\n

Tribute from Ilion. If she must fall, I shall see not her ending."\n\t<\/p>\n

Aetor replied to Tryas: "Then let us perish together,\n\t<\/p>\n

Joined by the love of our race who in life were divided in counsel.\n\t<\/p>\n

All things embrace in death and the strife and the hatred are ended."\n\t<\/p>\n

Silent together they drove for the last time through Ilion’s portals\n\t<\/p>\n

Out with the rest to the fight towards the sea and the spears of the Argives.\n\t<\/p>\n

Only once from their speed1<\/sup> they gazed back silent on Troya\n\t<\/p>\n

Lifting her marble pride in the golden joy of morning.\n\t<\/p>\n

So through the ripening morn the army, crossing Scamander,\n\t<\/p>\n

Filling the heavens with the dust and the war-cry, marched on the Argives.\n\t<\/p>\n

Far in front Troy’s plain spread wide to the echoing Ocean.\n\t<\/p>\n

\n\t\t1<\/font><\/sup> Alternative to "from their speed" : as they drove.
\n\t\t<\/font><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

Page-73<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Book Four THE BOOK OF PARTINGS EAGERLY, spurred by Ares swift in their souls to the war-cry, All now pressed to their homes for the…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[91],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3660","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-ilion-an-epic-in-quantitative-hexameters","wpcat-91-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3660","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3660"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3660\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3660"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3660"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3660"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}