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of the shores began.
Achilles! moderate thy dismay, fear nought. 340
In us behold, in Pallas and in me, Effectual aids, and with consent of Jove; For to be vanquish’d by a River’s force Is not thy doom. This foe shall soon be quell’d; Thine eyes shall see it. Let our counsel rule 345 Thy deed, and all is well. Cease not from war Till fast within proud Ilium’s walls her host Again be prison’d, all who shall escape; Then (Hector slain) to the Achaian fleet Return; we make the glorious victory thine. 350
So they, and both departing sought the skies.
Then, animated by the voice divine, He moved toward the plain now all o’erspread By the vast flood on which the bodies swam And shields of many a youth in battle slain. 355 He leap’d, he waded, and the current stemm’d Right onward, by the flood in vain opposed, With such might Pallas fill’d him. Nor his rage Scamander aught repress’d, but still the more Incensed against Achilles, curl’d aloft 360 His waters, and on Simois call’d aloud.
Brother! oh let us with united force
Check, if we may, this warrior; he shall else Soon lay the lofty towers of Priam low, Whose host appall’d, defend them now no more. 365 Haste—succor me—thy channel fill with streams From all thy fountains; call thy torrents down; Lift high the waters; mingle trees and stones With uproar wild, that we may quell the force Of this dread Chief triumphant now, and fill’d 370 With projects that might more beseem a God. But vain shall be his strength, his beauty nought Shall profit him or his resplendent arms, For I will bury them in slime and ooze, And I will overwhelm himself with soil, 375 Sands heaping o’er him and around him sands Infinite, that no Greek shall find his bones For ever, in my bottom deep immersed. There shall his tomb be piled, nor other earth, At his last rites, his friends shall need for him. 380
He said, and lifting high his angry tide
Vortiginous, against Achilles hurl’d, Roaring, the foam, the bodies, and the blood; Then all his sable waves divine again Accumulating, bore him swift along. 385 Shriek’d Juno at that sight, terrified lest Achilles in the whirling deluge sunk Should perish, and to Vulcan quick exclaim’d.
Vulcan, my son, arise; for we account
Xanthus well able to contend with thee. 390 Give instant succor; show forth all thy fires. Myself will haste to call the rapid South And Zephyrus, that tempests from the sea Blowing, thou may’st both arms and dead consume With hideous conflagration. Burn along 395 The banks of Xanthus, fire his trees and him Seize also. Let him by no specious guile Of flattery soothe thee, or by threats appall, Nor slack thy furious fires ’till
Achilles! moderate thy dismay, fear nought. 340
In us behold, in Pallas and in me, Effectual aids, and with consent of Jove; For to be vanquish’d by a River’s force Is not thy doom. This foe shall soon be quell’d; Thine eyes shall see it. Let our counsel rule 345 Thy deed, and all is well. Cease not from war Till fast within proud Ilium’s walls her host Again be prison’d, all who shall escape; Then (Hector slain) to the Achaian fleet Return; we make the glorious victory thine. 350
So they, and both departing sought the skies.
Then, animated by the voice divine, He moved toward the plain now all o’erspread By the vast flood on which the bodies swam And shields of many a youth in battle slain. 355 He leap’d, he waded, and the current stemm’d Right onward, by the flood in vain opposed, With such might Pallas fill’d him. Nor his rage Scamander aught repress’d, but still the more Incensed against Achilles, curl’d aloft 360 His waters, and on Simois call’d aloud.
Brother! oh let us with united force
Check, if we may, this warrior; he shall else Soon lay the lofty towers of Priam low, Whose host appall’d, defend them now no more. 365 Haste—succor me—thy channel fill with streams From all thy fountains; call thy torrents down; Lift high the waters; mingle trees and stones With uproar wild, that we may quell the force Of this dread Chief triumphant now, and fill’d 370 With projects that might more beseem a God. But vain shall be his strength, his beauty nought Shall profit him or his resplendent arms, For I will bury them in slime and ooze, And I will overwhelm himself with soil, 375 Sands heaping o’er him and around him sands Infinite, that no Greek shall find his bones For ever, in my bottom deep immersed. There shall his tomb be piled, nor other earth, At his last rites, his friends shall need for him. 380
He said, and lifting high his angry tide
Vortiginous, against Achilles hurl’d, Roaring, the foam, the bodies, and the blood; Then all his sable waves divine again Accumulating, bore him swift along. 385 Shriek’d Juno at that sight, terrified lest Achilles in the whirling deluge sunk Should perish, and to Vulcan quick exclaim’d.
Vulcan, my son, arise; for we account
Xanthus well able to contend with thee. 390 Give instant succor; show forth all thy fires. Myself will haste to call the rapid South And Zephyrus, that tempests from the sea Blowing, thou may’st both arms and dead consume With hideous conflagration. Burn along 395 The banks of Xanthus, fire his trees and him Seize also. Let him by no specious guile Of flattery soothe thee, or by threats appall, Nor slack thy furious fires ’till
