Book 12
has clashed black clouds together. Fickle crowds
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are always in that hall, that come and go,
and myriad rumors—false tales mixed with true—
are circulated in confusing words.
Some 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
by 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.
Fame now had spread the tidings, a great fleet
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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
of 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
with 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).
their white necks pressed upon the straining yoke,
he steered the chariot towards his foe,
and, brandishing the spear with his strong arm,
