An Iliad Read online

  He was standing on the stern of his ship, and from there watching the terrible battle, that grievous defeat. He had seen Nestor’s chariot flash by and, in the chariot, someone lying wounded, who seemed to him Machaon. Machaon was worth more than a hundred men. He alone knew how to draw arrows out of flesh and heal wounds with drugs that soothed the pain. So Achilles said to me, “Go to Nestor’s tent, hurry, go and see if it was really Machaon, and if he is still alive and if he will die.”

  And I went. I ran beside the ships, swiftly, along the shore of the sea. Who could have imagined that I had begun to die?

  I reached Nestor’s tent. He rose from his shining chair and invited me to enter. But I didn’t want to. Achilles was waiting for an answer, he wanted to know about Machaon. “Since when does Achilles have pity for wounded Achaeans?” said Nestor. “Maybe he doesn’t know that the tents are full of them, on this day of defeat. Diomedes, Odysseus, Agamemnon, all wounded. Eurypylus, struck in the thigh by an arrow. And Machaon, also struck by an arrow—I just carried him out of the battle. But none of this matters to Achilles, right? Maybe he is waiting, to feel pity, waiting for the ships to burn on the shore of the sea, and for all of us to be killed, one by one … Then he’ll shed tears … Friend, remember what your father said when you left, you and Achilles, for this war. He said to you, ‘My son, Achilles is nobler in birth, but he is only a boy, you are older than he. Guide him, he’ll listen to you.

  Even though he is much stronger than you, if you give him good counsel, he’ll listen to you.’ Do you remember? It would seem not. Well, remind Achilles of it, if he really will listen to you. And if he continues to be obstinate in his anger, then listen to me, boy: tell him to give you his marvelous armor. You put it on and go into battle at the head of the Myrmidons. The Trojans will take you for him and in terror will abandon the fight. For a little while we’ll be able to breathe: sometimes in war a pause is enough to regain courage and strength. His armor, Patroclus, have him give you his armor.”

  I ran off. I had to return to Achilles. And I ran off. I remember that before I got back, as I was passing the tent of Odysseus, I heard a voice calling me. I turned and saw Eurypy-lus, who had been carried far from the battle with an arrow sticking in one thigh. The black blood striped his leg, sweat drenched his head and shoulders. I heard his voice say, “There is no longer any escape for us.” And then, softly, “Save me, Patroclus.”

  And I saved him. I saved them, all of them, with my courage and my folly.

  Sarpedon • Telamonian Ajax • Hector

  Sarpedon

  There was that trench all around the wall that the Achaeans had built to protect their ships. Hector shouted to us to cross it, but the horses didn’t want to get near it. They planted their hooves and whinnied in fear. The sides were steep and the Achaeans had planted sharp stakes along the edges. To think of crossing there with our chariots was madness. Polydamas said that to Hector, told him that to go down into it was too risky, and if the Achaeans should counterattack? We would be right in the middle of the trench, trapped. It would be a slaughter. The only thing was to get out of the chariots, leave them on the far side of the trench, and attack on foot. Hector said he was right. He got out of his chariot and ordered everyone to do likewise. We lined up in five groups. Hector commanded the first, Paris the second, Helenus the third, Aeneas the fourth. The fifth was mine. We were ready to attack, but the truth was that something held us back. Still we hesitated, there on the edge of the trench.

  And just at that moment an eagle appeared in the sky, flying high above us, and in its claws it was clutching an enormous snake, bloody but still alive. And at some point the snake turned and bit the eagle’s chest, just at the neck; and she, transfixed by the pain, let go of her prey, almost threw it down among us, and flew away, with sharp, screeching cries. We watched that spotted snake fall, and then we saw it on the ground among us, and we all shuddered. Polydamas hurried to Hector and said, “Did you see the eagle? Just as we were about to go down into the trench she flew over us, and did you see, she had to drop her prey, she couldn’t bring it to her nest, to her young. Do you know what a seer would say, Hector? That we, too, think we’ve caught our prey, but it will escape us. Maybe we’ll reach the ships, but we won’t capture them, and at that point, once we’ve crossed the trench, a retreat would become a massacre.”

  Hector looked at him furiously. “Polydamas, you’re joking, or maybe you’re mad. I believe in the voice of Zeus, not the flight of birds. And that voice has promised me victory. Birds … the only omen I believe in is the will to fight for your homeland. You are afraid, Polydamas. But don’t worry: even if we all die beside that wall, you risk nothing, because you won’t get there, coward that you are.” And then he went forward toward the trench, leading us all.

  Ajax

  A terrifying wind arose: dust everywhere, swirling up against the ships. The Trojans crossed the trench and attacked our wall. They shook the merlons of the towers, they broke down the parapet, they tried to tear out the buttresses that supported the wall. We were at the top, protected behind our shields of ox hide, and striking whenever we could. Rocks flew everywhere, like flakes of snow in a winter storm. We would have done it—the wall stood up well—but then Sarpedon arrived. With his huge shield of bronze and gold, held out before him, and two spears gripped in his fists, he came upon us like a hungry lion.

  Sarpedon

  I was right in the middle of the crush, Glaucus was beside me. “Glaucus, are we or are we not the bravest of the Lycians, whom the rest honor and venerate? Then let’s get this done, let’s get over this wall. You have to die somehow, so let’s do it here. At least we’ll give someone his glory, or someone will give it to us.” And with Glaucus and all the Lycians I attacked.

  Ajax

  On one of the towers the men saw them coming and called for help, but no one heard them, there was such a din. Finally they sent a messenger, who came to me and said, “Ajax, the Lycians have attacked the wall in a mass, at the tower defended by Teucer. Hurry, they need help.” I set off at a run, and when I got there I saw that they were at the end of their resources. There was a big rock leaning against the parapet. I lifted it—I don’t know how I had the strength; truly, it was immense— but I lifted it up and threw it down onto the heads of the Lycians. And meanwhile Teucer, with an arrow, shot Glaucus in the arm, just as he was about to get over the wall. He shot him in the arm and Glaucus slid down.

  Sarpedon

  He was hit, and he went and hid behind us. He didn’t want some Achaean to know that he was wounded, you see? He didn’t want to give anyone that glory. I was so angry I could hardly see. I was right at the top of the wall, and I gripped the parapet with both hands, using all the strength I had, and tore it away. I swear, it came off in one piece, down with the parapet. Now we would get through.

  Ajax

  Suddenly Sarpedon was right in front of us. He had rotated the shield around to his back to scale the wall, and now he came at us like that, unprotected. Teucer shot an arrow straight into his breast, but that man was fortunate. The arrow hit the shield’s leather strap, across his chest, and stuck there.

  Sarpedon

  I shouted to the others, “What’s wrong with you? Do I have to take this wall by myself? Where is your courage, your spirit?” And then they all piled into the breach, and there was a tremendous fight. The light shields yielded under the bronze spear points; the tower was covered with blood, both Trojan and Achaean—we attacked but couldn’t get through. It was like a scale that hovers, always in balance: the Achaean side wouldn’t drop. It seemed that the fight would never end, when suddenly we heard the voice of Hector shouting, “Go, let’s go, to the wall, to the ships,” and it was as if that voice were pushing us up, up, and over the wall…

  Ajax

  Hector was right in front of one of the gates. Nearby was a huge rock; it was lying on the ground and had a sharp, jagged point at one end. He picked it up—and I swear, it was huge; two me
n would have had trouble with it—but he lifted it up, lifted it high above his head. We saw him take a few steps toward the gate, and then with all his might he hurled that rock at it. The impact was such that the hinges tore away, the wood split, the bolts yielded abruptly. Rapid as the night Hector advanced into the chasm that had opened, splendid in the bronze that clothed him, two spears in his hands, his eyes burning like fire. I tell you that only a god could have stopped him at that moment. He turned to his men and shouted to them to go, go through the wall. We saw them coming, charging through the ruined gate or climbing over the wall at every point. All was lost. We could only flee, and we fled toward our ships, toward all that remained to us.

  Ajax

  From his tent, Nestor, the old man, saw us fleeing, with the shattered wall behind us and the Trojans at our heels, pushing us toward the ships like a flame, like a storm. He hurried to find the other kings who were lying wounded in their tents— Diomedes, Odysseus, Agamemnon. Together they observed the battlefield, leaning on their spears, their hearts constricted by grief.

  Agamemnon spoke first. “Hector promised. He said that he wouldn’t stop before he set fire to the ships. And now here he is, he’s coming. I fear that all the Achaeans are angry with me, each one an Achilles, and sooner or later they’ll refuse to keep fighting.”

  Nestor gazed at that desperate retreat. “The wall we hoped would be an indestructible defense for us and our ships has crumbled,” he said. “It’s a sad fact, and not even a god could change it. Now we must think what to do. Our men are being routed, and in that tremendous chaos they are simply trying to escape slaughter. We have to do something. But I don’t think we can fight ourselves: you are all wounded, I am old. We can’t do it.”

  Then Agamemnon said, “If we can’t fight, we’ll flee.” He said it himself, the king of kings. “These are my orders. We’ll wait for night, and then, with the favoring darkness, we’ll put to sea in the ships and go. It’s not dishonorable to avoid a disaster. And if the only way to be saved is to flee, flee is what we must do.”

  Odysseus looked at him fiercely. “What sort of words escaped your lips, unlucky Agamemnon? Give orders like that to someone else, but don’t give them to us, who are men of honor, and whose destiny it is to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until we die. You want to abandon Troy, after we have suffered so much for it? Be quiet, so that the Achaeans don’t hear you. Those are words that should never come to the lips of a man who holds in his hands the scepter of command.”

  Agamemnon lowered his gaze. “You strike me to the heart, Odysseus, with your words. And it’s true, I don’t want to order you to flee if you don’t want to. But what else can we do? Is there anyone, young or old, who has an idea? I am ready to listen.”

  Then up jumped Diomedes, who was the youngest of us all. “Listen to me, Agamemnon. I know that I am younger than you, but put aside envy or rancor and listen to me. Even if we are wounded, let’s return to battle. We’ll keep away from the heart of the fray, but let ourselves be seen there. We have to be seen, the men will see us and recover their courage and their will to fight.” He was the youngest, but in the end they listened to him, because they could do nothing else—and because their destiny, ours, was to wind the thread of bitter wars from youth to old age, until death.

  Sarpedon

  In a mass we charged behind Hector. As a stone falling from a mountain peak rolls and ricochets, making the woods echo as it passes, and doesn’t stop until it reaches the plain, so that man wished to reach the sea, the ships, the tents of the Achaeans, sowing death. Around him raged war—war that annihilates men, that bristles with sharp-pointed spears. We advanced from every direction, dazzled by flashes of brilliance from shining helmets, glittering armor, and gleaming shields. How could one forget that brilliance? But I tell you: there is no heart so bold it could look at that beauty without being frightened by it.

  And we were frightened, fascinated but frightened, as Hector led us forward, as if he saw nothing but those ships ahead to approach and destroy. From the rear the Achaeans hit us with arrows and stones, while in the front line our men faced their best warriors. We began to get scattered, lost. Poly-damas, again, hurried to Hector; he was furious. “Hector! Will you listen to me? Just because you are the strongest, you think you are also the wisest, and you won’t listen to others? Listen to me! The battle surrounds us like a crown of fire, and don’t you see that the Trojans are in disarray? They don’t know whether to go back to the wall or to go forward. We have to stop and make a plan or risk getting to the ships with only a few men, and I can’t forget that Achilles is still there, waiting for us, hungry for war.” He was right, and Hector knew it. He turned back, then, to gather his best warriors, to assemble the army again, and then he realized that many of us hadn’t made it, had been struck down at the wall— Deiphobus, Helenus, Otryoneus, he looked for them but couldn’t find them. He found Paris and railed against him, as if it were his fault that the others were gone. “They are dead, Hector,” cried Paris. “Dead or wounded. We stayed to fight. Stop looking for the dead and lead us, those you have, into battle, to the ships. All our strength is with you, and will follow you.” And as with Polydamas, so with Paris, Hector listened to him and again launched the attack, putting himself at the head and leading us with him.

  Ajax

  I saw him coming, protected by his shield, at the forefront of his men, with the shining helmet quivering over his temples. Then I almost started running toward him. “Come on, madman, let’s go!” I shouted. “You want our ships, right? But we have arms with which to defend them, and with these arms we will annihilate you and your city. Start praying, Hector, because soon you’ll need the swiftest horses in order to flee and save your life!”

  Sarpedon

  “What do you mean, Ajax,” cried Hector. “You’re just a lying show-off. This is the day of your ruin, believe me. You, too, will die, along with all the others. Come and challenge my spear. It can’t wait to bite your white skin and leave you on the plain of Troy as a meal for dogs and birds!” And without delay he hurled his spear at Ajax.

  Ajax

  He hit me right in the chest, but I wasn’t destined to die there. The bronze tip stopped just where the two thick straps of leather and silver meet, one for the shield, one for the sword— it stuck right there. So I bent over, took a sharp stone from the ground, and before Hector could hide among his men I threw it at him with all my might.

  Sarpedon

  The stone whirled through the air like a top, passed over the shield, and hit him hard, right below the neck. We saw him topple to the ground, like an oak struck by a thunderbolt.

  Ajax

  A cry went up, a great cry, and it was the cry of all the Achaeans, who rushed at him to carry him off, to tear him to pieces.

  Sarpedon

  But no one could touch him. We were all there to shelter him—Polydamas, Agenor, Glaucus, and a thousand others who with their shields made an insuperable barrier around him. Finally I took him in my arms and carried him out of the fray. I hurried back to the wall and then I crossed the trench, and didn’t stop until I reached his chariot. We loaded him on it and then away, at a gallop, back to the plain. Only when we reached the river did we stop. Hector moaned, weakened. We laid him on the ground and poured water over his head. He opened his eyes, struggled to his knees, and vomited black blood; then he fell to the ground again, backward, and a dark shadow descended over his eyes.

  Ajax

  When I saw that they had taken him away, I knew it was the moment to attack. I went first, leading all behind me. It was a savage fight. Not so loud are the waves of the sea crashing against the cliffs when the north wind blows violently. Not so strong is the roar of a fire when it blazes up in the mountain valleys and consumes the forest, not so loud does the wind wail when it rages among the tall branches of the oaks—not so loud as the cry that exploded when Achaeans and Trojans charged. And first I killed Satnius, the son of Enops, gori
ng him in the side; Polydamas killed Prothoënor, piercing him through the shoulder. I killed Archelochus with a blow that cut off his head; Acamas killed Promachus, and, to avenge Promachus, Peneleos assaulted Ilioneus, striking him under the eyebrow with his spear, so that the eye fell out and the point pierced the skull and emerged from the neck. Peneleos drew his sword and cut off the head, and then he raised his spear, with the head still attached to it, and waved it in the air, shouting, “Trojans, tell the parents of Ilioneus from me that they can begin to weep for him, because they will never again see the body of their beloved son!” It was something that terrified the Trojans. We saw them scatter, seeking an escape.

  They felt the abyss of death opening before them. And suddenly they all began to run, and, fleeing, they abandoned the ships and reached the wall, but they didn’t stop there, they went on running and crossed the trench, and only when they were on the other side, next to their chariots, did they stop, pale with fear.

  Sarpedon

  Frightened like deer pursued into the depths of the forest by hunters: with their loud bellowing, they wake a thick-maned lion, who springs from the obscurity of the woods and freezes every heart.

  Hector

  They thought I was dead. Suddenly they saw me before them, like a spirit escaped from the beyond, like a nightmare that wouldn’t leave them in peace, like a lion that had sunk its teeth into their flesh and wouldn’t let go. They fled, most of them, in retreat toward the ships. Only the bravest remained: Ajax, Idomeneus, Teucer, Meriones, Meges. With long strides I marched against them, leading the whole army behind me. One after another they fell under our attack. Stichius and Arcesilaus killed by me. Medon and Iasus killed by Aeneas. Mecisteus killed by Polydamas, Echius killed by Polites, Clo-nius killed by Agenor. Deiochus killed by Paris, struck in the back. While we stripped the bodies, they ran in every direction. Even the best, all of them. They retreated to the wall, but still fear gripped them, and they abandoned that, too, withdrawing toward the ships.