Ἰλιάδος Φ

But when they reached the ford of the fair-flowing river,

eddying Xanthus, whom immortal Zeus begot,

there Achilles split them: one part he drove across the plain

toward the city, by the very way the Achaeans had fled in panic

the day before, when glorious Hector raged.

Along that way they streamed in flight, while Hera spread

a deep mist before them to hold them back; but half

were penned inside the deep-flowing, silver-eddying river,

and fell in with a mighty crash; the steep currents roared,

and all around the banks rang loudly; with cries

they swam this way and that, spun about among the eddies.

As locusts, driven by a blast of fire, take wing

to flee into a river, while the tireless flame burns on

suddenly surging, and they cower down into the water —

so beneath Achilles the sounding stream of deep-eddying Xanthus

was filled in confusion with horses and men together.

But the Zeus-sprung hero left his spear there on the bank,

leaning against the tamarisks, and leapt in like a god,

holding only his sword, and in his heart he planned grim work.

He struck in wheeling pursuit; an ugly groan rose from those

cut down by the blade, and the water reddened with blood.

As other fish, fleeing a great sea-monster of a dolphin,

fill the recesses of a harbor with good anchorage

in terror — for it greedily devours whatever it catches —

so the Trojans cowered beneath the banks along the currents

of the dreadful river. When his hands grew weary of killing,

he chose twelve young men alive out of the river

as blood-price for Patroclus, the dead son of Menoetius.

He led them out, dazed like fawns,

and bound their hands behind them with well-cut straps

that they themselves wore upon their twisted tunics,

then gave them to his comrades to take back to the hollow ships.

But he sprang back again, eager to tear more men apart.

There he met a son of Priam, descendant of Dardanus,

Lycaon, fleeing from the river, whom Achilles himself once

had seized and led unwilling from his father's vineyard,

coming on him by night; with sharp bronze Lycaon was cutting

young shoots from a wild fig tree to make the side-rails of a chariot.

Then godlike Achilles came upon him as an unforeseen disaster.

That time he carried him by ship to well-built Lemnos and sold him,

and the son of Jason paid the purchase price.

From there his guest-friend freed him, paying a great sum,

Eetion of Imbros, and sent him to holy Arisbe.

Escaping secretly from there, he reached his father's house.

For eleven days he delighted his heart among his loved ones

after coming from Lemnos; but on the twelfth a god once more

cast him into Achilles' hands, who was destined

to send him to Hades, though he had no wish to go.

When swift-footed godlike Achilles saw him,

naked, without helmet or shield, and holding no spear —

for he had thrown all his gear down upon the ground; sweat wore him out

as he fled from the river, and weariness mastered his knees —

then in anguish he spoke to his own great-hearted spirit: "

Ah me, truly a great wonder this my eyes behold

Surely those same great-hearted Trojans whom I have killed

will rise again from beneath the misty gloom,

since this man too has come back, escaping his merciless day,

though sold into sacred Lemnos; not even the gray sea

held him, though it holds back many men against their will.

Come then, he shall taste the point of my spear as well,

so that I may see in my heart and learn

whether he will return from there in the same way, or whether

the life-bearing earth will hold him down, as it holds even the strong."

So he pondered and waited; Lycaon came near him, dazed,

eager to clasp his knees, for above all his heart desired

to escape evil death and black doom.

Godlike Achilles raised his long spear

eager to stab him, but Lycaon ducked beneath and caught his knees,

crouching; the spear passed over his back and in the earth

stood fixed, longing to glut itself on human flesh.

With one hand Lycaon clasped his knees and begged him,

and with the other held the sharp spear and would not let it go.

And speaking to him, he addressed him with winged words:

"I clasp your knees, Achilles; respect me and show me mercy.

I stand before you as a suppliant worthy of reverence, Zeus-nurtured Achilles.

For at your side I first tasted the grain of Demeter

on the day you seized me in the well-tended vineyard,

and carried me far from my father and loved ones and sold me

into sacred Lemnos, and I brought you the price of a hundred oxen.

Now I have been ransomed for three times that sum; and this is

the twelfth dawn since I came to Ilion

after suffering much; now ruinous fate has cast me once more

into your hands. I must surely be hated by father Zeus,

who has given me to you again; brief-lived my mother

Laothoe bore me, daughter of aged Altes —

Altes, who rules the war-loving Leleges

and holds steep Pedasus beside the Satnioeis.

Priam had his daughter as wife, along with many others;

and we two were born of her, and you will cut both our throats.

The one you brought down among the foremost fighters,

godlike Polydorus, when you struck him with your sharp spear.

Now evil will come upon me here; for I do not think

I shall escape your hands, since a god has driven me near you.

And I will tell you another thing, and lay it to heart:

do not kill me, since I am not Hector's brother from the same womb,

Hector who killed your comrade, gentle and strong."

So Priam's glorious son addressed him

with words of supplication, but heard a merciless voice:

"Fool, do not mention ransom to me or speak of it.

Before Patroclus met his destined day,

it was dearer to my heart to spare some Trojan lives,

and I took many alive and sold them overseas.

Now there is no man who shall escape death, if a god

casts him into my hands before Ilion,

none of all the Trojans, least of all the sons of Priam.

Come, friend, you too must die. Why mourn like this?