  To the weary Trojans the appearance of the two heroes was as welcome as a long-desired breeze after a calm at sea to a sailor, and they soon made their presence felt. Pierced by Paris’ arrow, the excellent Menestheus fell and Hector slew the valiant EÏoneus. Many another who had believed Hector far away met death at his hands. Then came his brother Helenus, the seer, and bade him summon a warrior from among the Achaians to come forth and fight with him in single combat. The gods had revealed to him that the day of Hector’s doom was not yet come. Immediately the hero ran to the front, and requesting a truce cried out: “Hear me, ye Trojans and Achaians! Jupiter hath brought to naught our agreement, and our quarrel has not been settled as we hoped. Let us now arrange a second combat. Send your most valiant warrior forth to fight with me. If he slay me, let him take my costly armor, but my body he shall send to Ilium, that my bones may be burned and the ashes preserved. Should the gods grant that I slay him, then I will hang his armor in the temple of Phoebus Apollo. But ye may raise a fitting monument on the shore, so that when his grandchild sails the Hellespont and passes the high promontory he may say: ‘That is the mighty monument to the brave hero whom Hector slew in the final combat.’” For a while all was quiet in the Greek camp. Each was waiting for the other to offer himself, for it was a hazardous undertaking. At last Menelaus arose, overcome by a rising feeling of shame, and cried angrily to the other princes: “Ha! ye who can boast so well at home and on the battlefield are women, where is your courage now? It would indeed be our everlasting shame if none of the Achaians dared match himself with Hector. Sit still, ye cowards! I will gird myself for the fight. The victory lies in the hands of the immortal gods.” He began to put on his armor, but the other kings, and even his brother, restrained him. “Stay, my brother,” said Agamemnon; “do not be in a hurry to take up the challenge. Some other valiant Achaian will doubtless come forward.” Menelaus reluctantly obeyed, and now old Nestor began to reproach the faint-hearted warriors. “Your hearts have no courage and your bones no marrow,” he said. “If I were like myself of old, when I slew the hero Ereuthalion, Hector should soon find his man.” Abashed at Nestor’s well-merited rebuke, nine men arose and came forward. Agamemnon himself was among them and the two Ajaxes; the others were Diomedes, Ulysses, Idomeneus, and his charioteer Meriones, Eurypylus, and Thoas. It was proposed that they draw lots, and it fell to the elder Ajax, who was proud of the honor that had come to him. “I trust that Jupiter will give me the victory, for I am not unskilful and fear not the foeman; but pray for me that Jupiter may give me success,” he said. Ajax now rushed forward to meet the waiting Hector. Truly he was no mean adversary, being a man of powerful build. His armor was impenetrable and it was this fact alone which now saved him from certain death. His shield was composed of seven layers of cowhide with an iron covering; helmet and breastplate were equally strong. According to the custom of the time, the combat did not begin at once and in silence, but the warriors first paused to taunt and revile each other. Ajax cried out: “Now thou canst see, Hector, that there are still men among the Achaians who are not afraid to accept thy challenge, even though Achilles is not with us. I am but one of many. Come, let us to work!” “Thinkest thou to anger me by thy defiance, son of Telamon?” answered Hector. “Do not deceive thyself. I know how to hurl the spear and turn the shield so that no bolt can touch me. My deeds bear witness to my words. Beware, valiant hero, I shall not attack thee with craft, but openly.” At the same moment he hurled the great spear with all his might, and it pierced six of the leathern layers of Ajax’s shield before its power was spent. Ajax quickly aimed his own at Hector’s breast. Hector’s shield was not strong enough to withstand the blow; however, by a quick turn of his body, he prevented the point from entering his flesh. Both men now withdrew their spears from the shields and threw themselves upon each other. But Hector’s well-aimed blow only blunted the point of his lance and Ajax’s spear slipped on the smooth surface of Hector’s shield, wounding him slightly in the neck. Then Hector turned hastily to pick up a stone, which he hurled with all his might at Ajax’s head, but the hero warded it off with his shield. Ajax then picked up a much larger stone, which he threw, breaking Hector’s shield and wounding his knee. No doubt Hector would have attacked him once more had the Greeks themselves not interfered, sending forward a herald who separated the heroes, saying: “Warriors, it is enough. Ye are good fighters and beloved of Jupiter; that we have all seen. But night is falling and the darkness bids us cease our strife.” “Very well, friend,” said Ajax. “Bid Hector lay down his arms, for he began the fight. When he is ready to stop, I also am willing.” Then Hector said calmly: “Ajax, thou hast borne thyself manfully and some god hath lent thee strength and skill. Let us now rest and renew the fight another time, until death shall claim one of us. Go thou to feast with thy people, while I return to Priam’s city. But before we part let us exchange gifts that future generations may say, ‘Behold, they fought a bitter fight, then parted in friendship.’” Thereupon he presented Ajax with his finely-chased sword with its graceful scabbard and Ajax gave him his purple belt. Thus they parted, each side welcoming his man with cries of triumphant joy. Agamemnon entertained the chieftains in his tent as usual and to-day he set the largest and choicest pieces before Ajax. When the meal was ended Nestor began: “Listen to my advice, chieftains. Let us pause to-morrow long enough to bury our dead. We will burn the bodies that each may gather the ashes of his friends to bear them home to his people. But here we will erect a great monument to mark the place where the brave warriors have fallen. I have also another proposal to make. What think ye if we should hastily construct a deep moat and a bulwark with a great gateway around our camp? Then we should be as safe in our tents as in a walled city.” The counsel of the old man was received with universal approval and Agamemnon determined to set to work at once. The Trojan princes too were holding council to decide what they should do to force the Achaians to retire. Antenor, the wise, urged the return of Helen, but none would consent, not even Priam and Hector, to force Paris to give up his beloved wife. “I will gladly return the treasure which we took from Menelaus,” he said, “and give him plentifully of mine own, if that will propitiate the Achaians. But never will I give up Helen.” “For the present let us be on our guard,” answered King Priam, “and to-morrow let IdÆus go down and give Paris’ message to the Achaians and ask if they are not inclined to an armistice, until we have burned the dead and paid them funeral honors.” Early the next morning IdÆus went forth on his errand. He entered Agamemnon’s tent and delivered his message. The Greeks welcomed the proposal for a truce, but Paris’ offer was rejected with disdain. “Let no one take Paris’ property,” roared Diomedes. “We no longer fight for Paris’ wealth, nor even for Helen. Even though he should send her back, Troy shall fall, and truly the end is not far off!” Agamemnon and the other chieftains all signified their approval and the herald took the message back to the city. Meanwhile the greater part of the Achaians were engaged in digging a moat and building a wall about the camp. The outcome showed that this precaution had not been unnecessary, for as soon as the battle was renewed the Achaians began to lose ground. Jupiter forbade the gods to take sides, and driving the celestial steeds himself, he descended from Olympus to Mount Ida, from whence he could observe the battlefield. The slaughter had begun early in the morning and already many Trojans had fallen, and still more Achaians, for the Trojans fought desperately. A little past noon a threatening storm gathered on Mount Ida and the people recognized the presence of the father of the gods, for he alone had power over the flashing lightning. It was soon apparent whom he favored, for suddenly a terrible thunderbolt with blinding flashes struck the foremost ranks of the Achaians, so that all were panic-stricken and none dared remain on the field against the will of Jupiter. All fled to the ships, pale with terror. Nestor was about to follow, when an arrow from Paris’ bow laid one of his horses low, and if Diomedes had not come to his rescue, he would certainly have fallen a prey to the pursuing Trojans. Filled with renewed courage at the thunderbolts of Jove, which they took for favorable omens, they were like dogs on the track of the frightened flock. Hector called loudly upon his people to attack the wall and gave orders that firebrands be brought from the city to fire the ships. But the Trojans were dubious about attacking the Greeks within their fortifications. They were not well prepared for such an undertaking. The Greeks now stood behind the wall, huddled close to the ships. The terrible thunderstorm had passed over and the sun shone once more. Agamemnon boarded a ship, where he might be seen and heard by all. The warriors were silent while he cried: “Shame upon you, sons of Argos, who in Lemnos boasted that ye would each fight one hundred Trojans! Now ye flee like frightened deer before a single man. Already Hector threatens to burn the ships. No wonder! It is your cowardice which makes him bold. Oh, father Jupiter, hast thou ever cursed a king as thou hast me? And yet how many fat cattle have I not offered up? On the way hither I did not pass by a single one of thy sacred temples where I did not stop to burn fat haunches in thine honor. Thou hast doubtless determined to destroy us here.” Full of pity, the father of gods and men looked down upon him and made a sign that he would save the DanÆans. He sent an eagle bearing a young deer in its beak, which it dropped as it flew high above the Greek camp, so that it fell palpitating before the altar of Jupiter on the ships. As soon as the Greeks saw this favorable sign, they pressed forward with fresh zeal into the Trojan lines. The heroes were like ravening wolves. Teucer of Salamis, who was skilful with the bow, remained beside his brother Ajax, who covered him with his shield whenever he was in danger. Every arrow hit its mark. Agamemnon looked on with delight, and clapping the youth on the shoulder, he cried: “Well done, my dear fellow! Thus shalt thou bring joy and glory to thy father in his old age. If the gods grant me the victory over Troy thy reward shall not fail—whether it be a tripod, a pair of horses and a chariot, or a beautiful slave girl.” Soon afterward Hector’s chariot came galloping up. Teucer quickly set an arrow to his bow and aimed at the hero, but the missile went astray and Hector did not see the youth. Teucer shot another arrow, which pierced the charioteer’s breast. Hector sprang down, and just as Teucer was taking aim for the third time, a rock from Hector’s hand struck his breast and he sank on his knees. Ajax covered him with his shield until soldiers came up and carried the wounded youth away to his tent. Juno and Athena, gazing sadly at the unfortunate outcome of the battle, ventured in their resentment to disobey the command of the father of the gods and go to the rescue of the hard-pressed Achaians. But Jupiter espied them and sent the gold-winged Iris to warn them to turn back or he would strike them with a thunderbolt that would shatter their chariot and teach them not to resist father and husband. Pouting, they obeyed, and in a rage arrived at Olympus and seated themselves in the great hall. Soon afterwards the mountain trembled at the tread of Jupiter, who entered the hall and seated himself on his golden throne with dark looks at his wife and daughter, whose glances were fixed defiantly on the ground. “Why are ye so sad?” he began mockingly. “Ye did not remain long on the battlefield, meseems. Your lovely limbs trembled ere ever ye saw the fray. Truly ye would never have returned to the glorious home of the gods had my thunderbolt struck you. My power is far beyond that of the other gods. Even should they all come to measure their strength against mine, and if I stood at heaven’s gate and let down a chain to earth and all Olympus hung to the chain, ye could not pull me down. If I but raised my hand ye would all fly up. Even the earth and sea I would draw up, and if I should wind the chain around the peaked top of Olympus, the whole globe would dangle in space.” Meanwhile night had fallen, which put a stop to further strife. Hector retired to the middle of the field and gave orders that the whole army should remain in camp lighting watchfires everywhere, so that the Greeks might not board their ships unseen and steal away. The old men and boys were to watch the city gates to guard against surprise. |
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