Metamorphoses by Ovid — Book XII, The Greeks at Aulis

Sadly his father, Priam, mourned for him,
not knowing that young Aesacus had assumed
wings on his shoulders, and was yet alive.
Then also Hector with his brothers made
complete but unavailing sacrifice,
upon a tomb which bore his carved name.
Paris was absent. But soon afterwards,
⁶he brought into that land a ravished wife,
Helen, the cause of a disastrous war,
together with a thousand ships, and all
the great Pelasgian nation.
Vengeance would
not long have been delayed, but the fierce winds
raged over seas impassable, and held
the ships at fishy Aulis. They could not
be moved from the Boeotian land. Here, when
¹¹a sacrifice had been prepared to Jove,
according to the custom of their land,
and when the ancient altar glowed with fire,
the Greeks observed an azure colored snake
crawling up in a plane tree near the place
where they had just begun their sacrifice.
Among the highest branches was a nest,
with twice four birds—and those the serpent seized
¹⁶together with the mother-bird as she
was fluttering round her loss. And every bird
the serpent buried in his greedy maw.
All stood amazed: but Calchas, who perceived
the truth, exclaimed, “Rejoice Pelasgian men,
for we shall conquer; Troy will fall; although
the toil of war must long continue—so
²¹the nine birds equal nine long years of war.”
And while he prophesied, the serpent, coiled
about the tree, was transformed to a stone,
curled crooked as a snake.
but Nereus stormed
in those Aonian waves, and not a ship
moved forward. Some declared that Neptune thus
²⁶was aiding Troy, because he built the walls
of that great city. Not so Calchas, son
of Thestor! He knew all the truth, and told
them plainly that a virgin's blood
alone might end a virgin goddess' wrath.
The public good at last prevailed above
affection, and the duty of a king
at last proved stronger than a father's love:
when Iphigenia as a sacrifice,
³¹stood by the altar with her weeping maids
and was about to offer her chaste blood,
the goddess, moved by pity, spread a mist
before their eyes, amid the sacred rites
and mournful supplications. It is said
she left a hind there in the maiden's place
and carried Iphigenia away. The hind,
as it was fitting, calmed Diana's rage
³⁶and also calmed the anger of the sea.
The thousand ships received the winds astern
and gained the Phrygian shore.
There is a spot
convenient in the center of the world,
between the land and sea and the wide heavens,
the meeting of the threefold universe.
⁴¹From there is seen all things that anywhere
exist, although in distant regions far;
and there all sounds of earth and space are heard.
Fame is possessor of this chosen place,
and has her habitation in a tower,
which aids her view from that exalted highs.
And she has fixed there numerous avenues,
and openings, a thousand, to her tower
and no gates with closed entrance, for the house
⁴⁶is open, night and day, of sounding brass,
reechoing the tones of every voice.
It must repeat whatever it may hear;
and there's no rest, and silence in no part.
There is no clamor; but the murmuring sound
of subdued voices, such as may arise
from waves of a far sea, which one may hear
who listens at a distance; or the sound
⁵¹which ends a thunderclap, when Jupiter
has clashed black clouds together. Fickle crowds
are always in that hall, that come and go,
and myriad rumors—false tales mixed with true—
are circulated in confusing words.
⁵⁶Some fill their empty ears with all this talk,
and some spread elsewhere all that's told to them.
The volume of wild fiction grows apace,
and each narrator adds to what he hears.
Credulity is there and rash Mistake,
and empty Joy, and coward Fear alarmed
⁶¹by quick Sedition, and soft Whisper—all
of doubtful life. Fame sees what things are done
in heaven and on the sea, and on the earth.
She spies all things in the wide universe.

⁶⁴Fame now had spread the tidings, a great fleet
of Greek ships was at that time on its way,
an army of brave men. The Trojans stood,
all ready to prevent the hostile Greeks
from landing on their shores. By the decree
of Fate, the first man killed of the invaders' force
was strong Protesilaus, by the spear
⁶⁹of valiant Hector, whose unthought-of power
at that time was discovered by the Greeks
to their great cost. The Phyrgians also learned,
at no small cost of blood, what warlike strength
came from the Grecian land. The Sigean shores
grew red with death-blood: Cygnus, Neptune's son,
there slew a thousand men: for which, in wrath,
Achilles pressed his rapid chariot
straight through the Trojan army; making a lane
⁷⁴with his great spear, shaped from a Pelion tree.
And as he sought through the fierce battle's press,
either for Cygnus or for Hector, he
met Cygnus and engaged at once with him
(Fate had preserved great Hector from such foe
till ten years from that day).
Cheering his steeds,
their white necks pressed upon the straining yoke,
he steered the chariot towards his foe,
⁷⁹and, brandishing the spear with his strong arm,
he cried, “Whoever you may be, you have
the consolation of a glorious death
you die by me, Haemonian Achilles!”
His heavy spear flew after the fierce words.
Although the spear was whirled direct and true,
⁸⁴yet nothing it availed with sharpened point.
It only bruised, as with a blunted stroke,
the breast of Cygnus! “By report we knew
of you before this battle, goddess born.”
The other answered him, “But why are you
surprised that I escape the threatened wound?”
(Achilles was surprised). “This helmet crowned,
⁸⁹great with its tawny horse-hair, and this shield,
broad-hollowed, on my left arm, are not held
for help in war: they are but ornament,
as Mars wears armor. All of them shall be
put off, and I will fight with you unhurt.
It is a privilege that I was born
not as you, of a Nereid but of him
⁹⁴whose powerful rule is over Nereus,
his daughters and their ocean.” So, he spoke.
Immediately he threw his spear against Achilles,
destined to pierce the curving shield through brass,
and through nine folds of tough bull's hide.
It stopped there, for it could not pierce the tenth.
The hero wrenched it out, and hurled again
⁹⁹a quivering spear at Cygnus, with great strength.
The Trojan stood unwounded and unharmed.
Nor did a third spear injure Cygnus, though
he stood there with his body all exposed.
Achilles raged at this, as a wild bull
in open circus, when with dreadful horns
he butts against the hanging purple robes
¹⁰⁴which stir his wrath and there observes how they
evade him, quite unharmed by his attack.
Achilles then examined his good spear,
to see if by some chance the iron point
was broken from it, but the point was firm,
fixed on the wooden shaft. “My hand is weak,”
he said, “but is it possible its strength
forsook me though it never has before?
For surely I had my accustomed strength,
when first I overthrew Lyrnessus' walls,
¹⁰⁹or when I won the isle of Tenedos
or Thebes (then under King Eetion)
and I drenched both with their own peoples' blood,
or when the river Caycus ran red
with slaughter of its people, or, when twice
Telephus felt the virtue of my spear.
On this field also, where such heaps lie slain,
¹¹⁴my right hand surely has proved its true might;
and it is mighty.”
So he spoke of strength,
remembered. But as if in proof against
his own distrust, he hurled a spear against
Menoetes, a soldier in the Lycian ranks.
The sharp spear tore the victim's coat of mail
and pierced his breast beneath. Achilles, when
he saw his dying head strike on the earth
¹¹⁹wrenched the same spear from out the reeking wound,
and said, “This is the hand, and this the spear
I conquered with; and I will use the same
against him who in luck escaped their power;
and the result should favor as I pray
the helpful gods.”
And, as he said such words,
in haste he hurled his ashen spear, again
at Cygnus. It went straight and struck unshunned.
Resounding on the shoulder of that foe,
¹²⁴it bounced back as if it hit a wall
or solid cliff. Yet when Achilles saw
just where the spear struck, Cygnus there
was stained with blood. He instantly rejoiced;
but vainly, for it was Menoetes' blood!
Then in a sudden rage, Achilles leaped
¹²⁹down headlong from his lofty chariot;
and, seeking his god-favored foe, he struck
in conflict fiercely, with his gleaming sword.
Although he saw that he had pierced both shield
and helmet through, he did not harm the foe—
his sword was even blunted on the flesh.
Achilles could not hold himself for rage,
but furious, with his sword-hilt and his shield
he battered wildly the uncovered face
and hollow-temples of his Trojan foe.
¹³⁴Cygnus gave way; Achilles rushed on him,
buffeting fiercely, so that he could not
recover from the shock. Fear seized upon
Cygnus, and darkness swam before his eyes.
Then, as he moved back with retreating steps,
a large stone hindered him and blocked his way.
His back pushed against this, Achilles seized
¹³⁹and dashed him violently to the ground.
Then pressing with buckler and hard knees the breast
of Cygnus, he unlaced the helmet thongs,
wound them about the foeman's neck and drew
them tightly under his chin, till Cygnus' throat
could take no breath of life. Achilles rose
eager to strip his conquered foe but found
¹⁴⁴his empty armor, for the god of ocean
had changed the victim into that white bird
whose name he lately bore.