wide, And forth the people issued, foot and horse Together, and a mighty din arose. And now, when host met host, their shields and spears Were mingled in disorder; men of might Encountered, cased in mail, and bucklers clashed Their bosses; loud the clamor: cries of pain And boastful shouts arose from those who fell And those who slew, and earth was drenched with blood.
While yet ’twas morning, and the holy light Of day grew bright, the men of both the hosts Were smitten and were slain; but when the sun Stood high in middle heaven, the All-Father took His golden scales, and in them laid the fates Which bring the sleep of death—the fate of those Who tamed the Trojan steeds, and those who warred For Greece in brazen armor. By the midst He held the balance, and, behold, the fate Of Greece in that day’s fight sank down until It touched the nourishing earth, while that of Troy Rose and flew upward toward the spacious heaven. With that the Godhead thundered terribly From Ida’s height, and sent his lightnings down Among the Achaian army. They beheld In mute amazement and grew pale with fear.
Then neither dared Idomeneus remain, Nor Agamemnon, on the ground, nor stayed The chieftains Ajax, ministers of Mars. Gerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, Alone was left behind, and he remained Unwillingly. A steed of those that drew His car was sorely wounded by a shaft Which Alexander, fair-haired Helen’s spouse, Sent from his bow. It pierced the forehead where The mane begins, and where a wound is death. The arrow pierced him to the brain; he reared And whirled in torture with the wound, and scared His fellow-coursers. While the aged man Hastened to sever with his sword the thongs That bound him to the car, the rapid steeds Of Hector bore their valiant master on With the pursuing crowd. The aged chief Had perished then, if gallant Diomed Had not perceived his plight. He lifted up His voice, and, shouting to Ulysses, said:—