And the Gods hearkened to them. High he towered Above all stateliest men which followed him.
So came they to the heavy-plunging sea, And found the rowers in the smooth-wrought ship Handling the tackle, fixing mast and sail.
Straightway they went aboard: the shipmen cast The hawsers loose, and heaved the anchor-stones, The strength and stay of ships in time of need.
Then did the Sea-queen's lord grant voyage fair To these with gracious mind; for his heart yearned O'er the Achaeans, by the Trojan men And mighty-souled Eurypylus hard-bestead.
On either side of Neoptolemus sat Those heroes, gladdening his soul with tales Of his sire's mighty deeds -- of all he wrought In sea-raids, and in valiant Telephus' land, And how he smote round Priam's burg the men Of Troy, for glory unto Atreus' sons.
His heart glowed, fain to grasp his heritage, His aweless father's honour and renown.
In her bower, sorrowing for her son the while, Deidameia poured forth sighs and tears.
With agony of soul her very heart Melted in her, as over coals doth lead Or wax, and never did her moaning cease, As o'er the wide sea her gaze followed him.
Ay, for her son a mother fretteth still, Though it be to a feast that he hath gone, By a friend bidden forth. But soon the sail Of that good ship far-fleeting o'er the blue Grew faint and fainter -- melted in sea-haze.
But still she sighed, still daylong made her moan.
On ran the ship before a following wind, Seeming to skim the myriad-surging sea, And crashed the dark wave either side the prow:
Swiftly across the abyss unplumbed she sped.
Night's darkness fell about her, but the breeze Held, and the steersman's hand was sure. O'er gulfs Of brine she flew, till Dawn divine rose up To climb the sky. Then sighted they the peaks Of Ida, Chrysa next, and Smintheus' fane, Then the Sigean strand, and then the tomb Of Aeacus' son. Yet would Laertes' seed, The man discreet of soul, not point it out To Neoptolemus, lest the tide of grief Too high should swell within his breast. They passed Calydnae's isles, left Tenedos behind;
And now was seen the fane of Eleus, Where stands Protesilaus' tomb, beneath The shade of towcry elms; when, soaring high Above the plain, their topmost boughs discern Troy, straightway wither all their highest sprays.
Nigh Ilium now the ship by wind and oar Was brought: they saw the long strand fringed with keels Of Argives, who endured sore travail of war Even then about the wall, the which themselves Had reared to screen the ships and men in stress Of battle. Even now Eurypylus' hands To earth were like to dash it and destroy;
But the quick eyes of Tydeus' strong son marked How rained the darts and stones on that long wall.
Forth of the ship he sprang, and shouted loud With all the strength of his undaunted breast:
"Friends, on the Argive men is heaped this day Sore travail! Let us don our flashing arms With speed, and to yon battle-turmoil haste.
For now upon our towers the warrior sons Of Troy press hard -- yea, haply will they tear The long walls down, and burn the ships with fire, And so the souls that long for home-return Shall win it never; nay, ourselves shall fall Before our due time, and shall lie in graves In Troyland, far from children and from wives."
All as one man down from the ship they leapt;
For trembling seized on all for that grim sight -- On all save aweless Neoptolemus Whose might was like his father's: lust of war Swept o'er him. To Odysseus' tent in haste They sped, for close it lay to where the ship Touched land. About its walls was hung great store Of change of armour, of wise Odysseus some, And rescued some from gallant comrades slain.
Then did the brave man put on goodly arms;
But they in whose breasts faintlier beat their hearts Must don the worser. Odysseus stood arrayed In those which came with him from Ithaca:
To Diomede he gave fair battle-gear Stripped in time past from mighty Socus slain.
But in his father's arms Achilles' son Clad him and lo, he seemed Achilles' self!
Light on his limbs and lapping close they lay -- So cunning was Hephaestus' workmanship -- Which for another had been a giant's arms.
The massive helmet cumbered not his brows;
Yea, the great Pelian spear-shaft burdened not His hand, but lightly swung he up on high The heavy and tall lance thirsting still for blood.
Of many Argives which beheld him then Might none draw nigh to him, how fain soe'er, So fast were they in that grim grapple locked Of the wild war that raged all down the wall.
But as when shipmen, under a desolate isle Mid the wide sea by stress of weather bound, Chafe, while afar from men the adverse blasts Prison them many a day; they pace the deck With sinking hearts, while scantier grows their store Of food; they weary till a fair wind sings;
So joyed the Achaean host, which theretofore Were heavy of heart, when Neoptolemus came, Joyed in the hope of breathing-space from toil.
Then like the aweless lion's flashed his eyes, Which mid the mountains leaps in furious mood To meet the hunters that draw nigh his cave, Thinking to steal his cubs, there left alone In a dark-shadowed glen but from a height The beast hath spied, and on the spoilers leaps With grim jaws terribly roaring; even so That glorious child of Aeacus' aweless son Against the Trojan warriors burned in wrath.
Thither his eagle-swoop descended first Where loudest from the plain uproared the fight, There weakest, he divined, must be the wall, The battlements lowest, since the surge of foes Brake heaviest there. Charged at his side the rest Breathing the battle-spirit. There they found Eurypylus mighty of heart and all his men Scaling a tower, exultant in the hope Of tearing down the walls, of slaughtering The Argives in one holocaust. No mind The Gods had to accomplish their desire!
