Xanthus and Hephaestus

Then spake unto him the glorious son of Pelegon: "Great-souled son of Peleus, wherefore enquirest thou of my lineage? I come from deep-soiled Paeonia, a land afar, leading the Paeonians with their long spears, and this is now my eleventh morn, since I came to Ilios. But my lineage is from wide-flowing Axius--Axius, the water whereof flows the fairest over the face of the earth—who begat Pelegon famed for his spear, and he, men say, was my father. Now let us do battle, glorious Achilles."

So spake he threatening, but goodly Achilles raised on high the spear of Pelian ash; howbeit the warrior Asteropaeus hurled with both spears at once, for he was one that could use both hands alike. With the one spear he smote the shield, but it brake not through, for the gold stayed it, the gift of the god and with the other he smote the right forearm of Achilles a grazing blow, and the black blood gushed forth; but the spear-point passed above him and fixed itself in the earth, fain to glut itself with flesh. Then Achilles in his turn hurled at Asteropaeus his straight-flying spear of ash, eager to slay him but missed the man and struck the high bank and up to half its length he fixed in the bank the spear of ash. But the son of Peleus, drawing his sharp sword from beside his thigh, leapt upon him furiously, and the other availed not to draw in his stout hand the ashen spear of Achilles forth from out the bank. Thrice he made it quiver in his eagerness to draw it, and thrice he gave up his effort; but the fourth time his heart was fain to bend and break the ashen spear of the son of Aeacus; howbeit ere that might be Achilles drew nigh and robbed him of life with his sword. In the belly he smote him beside the navel, and forth upon the ground gushed all his bowels, and darkness enfolded his eyes as he lay gasping.

And Achilles leapt upon his breast and despoiled him of his arms, and exulted saying: "Lie as thou art! Hard is it to strive with the children of the mighty son of Cronos, albeit for one begotten of a River. Thou verily declarest that thy birth is from the wide-flowing River, whereas I avow me to be of the lineage of great Zeus. The father that begat me is one that is lord among the many Myrmidons, even Peleus, son of Aeacus; and Aeacus was begotten of Zeus. Wherefore as Zeus is mightier than rivers that murmur seaward, so mightier too is the seed of Zeus than the seed of a river. For lo, hard beside thee is a great River, if so be he can avail thee aught; but it may not be that one should fight with Zeus the son of Cronos. With him doth not even king Achelous vie, nor the great might of deep-flowing Ocean, from whom all rivers flow and every sea, and all the springs and deep wells; howbeit even he hath fear of the lightning of great Zeus, and his dread thunder, whenso it crasheth from heaven."

He spake, and drew forth from the bank his spear of bronze, and left Asteropaeus where he was, when he had robbed him of his life, lying in the sands; and the dark water wetted him. With him then the eels and fishes dealt, plucking and tearing the fat about his kidneys; but Achilles went his way after the Paeonians, lords of chariots, who were still huddled in rout along the eddying river, when they saw their best man mightily vanquished in the fierce conflict beneath the hands and sword of the son of Peleus. There slew he Thersilochus and Mydon and Astypylus and Mnesus and Thrasius and Aenius and Ophelestes; and yet more of the Paeonians would swift Achilles have slain, had not the deep-eddying River waxed wroth and called to him in the semblance of a man, sending forth a voice from out the deep eddy: "O Achilles, beyond men art thou in might, and beyond men doest deeds of evil; for ever do the very gods give thee aid. If so be the son of Cronos hath granted thee to slay all the men of Troy, forth out of my stream at least do thou drive them, and work thy direful work on the plain. Lo, full are my lovely streams with dead men, nor can I anywise avail to pour my waters forth into the bright sea, being choked with dead, while thou ever slayest ruthlessly. Nay, come, let be; amazement holds me, thou leader of hosts."

Then swift-footed Achilles answered him, saying: "Thus shall it be, Scamander, nurtured of Zeus, even as thou biddest. Howbeit the proud Trojan will I not cease to slay until I have pent them in their city, and have made trial of Hector, man to man, whether he shall slay me or I him."

So saying he leapt upon the Trojans like a god. Then unto Apollo spake the deep-eddying River: "Out upon it, thou lord of the silver bow, child of Zeus, thou verily hast not kept the commandment of the son of Cronos, who straitly charged thee to stand by the side of the Trojans and to succour them, until the late-setting star of even shall have come forth and darkened the deep-soiled earth."

He spake, and Achilles, famed for his spear, sprang from the bank and leapt into his midst; but the River rushed upon him with surging flood, and roused all his streams tumultuously, and swept along the many dead that lay thick within his bed, slain by Achilles; these lie cast forth to the land, bellowing the while like a bull, and the living he saved under his fair streams, hiding them in eddies deep and wide. In terrible wise about Achilles towered the tumultuous wave, and the stream as it beat upon his shield thrust him backward, nor might he avail to stand firm upon his feet. Then grasped he an elm, shapely and tall, but it fell uprooted and tore away all the bank, and stretched over the fair streams with its thick branches, and dammed the River himself, falling all within him; but Achilles, springing forth from the eddy hasted to fly with swift feet over the plain, for he was seized with fear. Howbeit the great god ceased not, but rushed upon him with dark-crested wave, that he might stay goodly Achilles from his labour, and ward off ruin from the Trojans. But the son of Peleus rushed back as far as a spear-cast with the swoop of a black eagle, the mighty hunter, that is alike the strongest and swiftest of winged things; like him he darted, and upon his breast the bronze rang terribly, while he swerved from beneath the flood and fled ever onward, and the River followed after, flowing with a mighty roar. As when a man that guideth its flow leadeth from a dusky spring a stream of water amid his plants and garden-lots a mattock in his hands and cleareth away the dams from the channel-- and as it floweth all the pebbles beneath are swept along therewith, and it glideth swiftly onward with murmuring sound down a sloping place and outstrippeth even him that guideth it;—even thus did the flood of the River ever overtake Achilles for all he was fleet of foot; for the gods are mightier than men. And oft as swift-footed, goodly Achilles strove to make stand against him and to learn if all the immortals that hold broad heaven were driving him in rout, so often would the great flood of the heaven-fed River beat upon his shoulders from above; and he would spring on high with his feet  in vexation of spirit, and the River was ever tiring his knees with its violent flow beneath, and was snatching away the ground from under his feet.

Then the son of Peleus uttered a bitter cry, with a look at the broad heaven: "Father Zeus, how is it that no one of the gods taketh it upon him in my pitiless plight to save me from out the River! thereafter let come upon me what may. None other of the heavenly gods do I blame so much, but only my dear mother, that beguiled me with false words, saying that beneath the wall of the mail-clad Trojans I should perish by the swift missiles of Apollo. Would that Hector had slain me, the best of the men bred here; then had a brave man been the slayer, and a brave man had he slain. But now by a miserable death was it appointed me to be cut off, pent in the great river, like a swine-herd boy whom a torrent sweepeth away as he maketh essay to cross it in winter."

So spake he, and forthwith Poseidon and Pallas Athene drew nigh and stood by his side, being likened in form to mortal men, and they clasped his hand in theirs and pledged him in words. And among them Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, was first to speak: "Son of Peleus, tremble not thou overmuch, neither be anywise afraid, such helpers twain are we from the gods—and Zeus approveth thereof—even I and Pallas Athene. Therefore is it not thy doom to be vanquished by a river; nay, he shall soon give respite, and thou of thyself shalt know it. But we will give thee wise counsel, if so be thou wilt hearken. Make not thine hands to cease from evil battle until within the famed walls of Ilios thou hast pent the Trojan host, whosoever escapeth. But for thyself, when thou hast bereft Hector of life, come thou back to the ships; lo, we grant thee to win glory."

When the twain had thus spoken, they departed to the immortals, but he went on toward the plain, or mightily did the bidding of the gods arouse him; and the whole plain was filled with a flood of water, and many goodly arms and corpses of youths slain in battle were floating there. But on high leapt his knees, as he rushed straight on against the flood, nor might the wide-flowing River stay him; for Athene put in him great strength. Nor yet would Scamander abate his fury, but was even more wroth against the son of Peleus, and raising himself on high he made the surge of his flood into a crest, and he called with a shout to Simois: "Dear brother, the might of this man let us stay, though it need the two of us, seeing presently he will lay waste the great city of king Priam, neither will the Trojans abide him in battle. Nay, bear thou aid with speed, and fill thy streams with water from thy springs, and arouse all thy torrents; raise thou a great wave, and stir thou a mighty din of tree-trunks and stones, that we may check this fierce man that now prevaileth, and is minded to vie even with the gods. For I deem that his strength shall naught avail him, neither anywise his comeliness, nor yet that goodly armour, which, I ween, deep beneath the mere shall lie covered over with slime; and himself will I enwrap in sands and shed over him great store of shingle past all measuring; nor shall the Achaeans know where to gather his bones, with such a depth of silt shall I enshroud him. Even here shall be his sepulchre, nor shall he have need of a heaped-up mound, when the Achaeans make his funeral."

He spake, and rushed tumultuously upon Achilles, raging on high and seething with foam and blood and dead men. And the dark flood of the heaven-fed River rose towering above him, and was at point to overwhelm the son of Peleus. But Hera called aloud, seized with fear for Achilles, lest the great deep-eddying River should sweep him away. And forthwith she spake unto Hephaestus, her dear son: "Rouse thee, Crook-foot, my child! for it was against thee that we deemed eddying Xanthus to be matched in fight. Nay, bear thou aid with speed, and put forth thy flames unstintedly. But I will hasten and rouse from the sea a fierce blast of the West Wind and the white South, that shall utterly consume the dead Trojans and their battle gear, ever driving on the evil flame; and do thou along the banks of Xanthus burn up his trees, and beset him about with fire, nor let him anywise turn thee back with soft words or with threatenings; neither stay thou thy fury, save only when I call to thee with a shout; then do thou stay thy unwearied fire."

So spake she, and Hephaestus made ready wondrous-blazing fire. First on the plain was the fire kindled, and burned the dead, the many dead that lay thick therein, slain by Achilles; and all the plain was parched, and the bright water was stayed. And as when in harvest-time the North Wind quickly parcheth again a freshly-watered orchard, and glad is he that tilleth it; so was the whole plain parched, and the dead he utterly consumed; and then against the River he turned his gleaming flame. Burned were the elms and the willows and the tamarisks, burned the lotus and the rushes and the galingale, that round the fair streams of the river grew abundantly; tormented were the eels and the fishes in the eddies, and in the fair streams they plunged this way and that, sore distressed by the blast of Hephaestus of many wiles. Burned too was the mighty River, and he spake and addressed the god: "Hephaestus, there is none of the gods that can vie with thee, nor will I fight thee, ablaze with fire as thou art. Cease thou from strife,, and as touching the Trojans, let goodly Achilles forthwith drive them forth from out their city; what part have I in strife or in bearing aid?"

So spake he, burning the while with fire, and his fair streams were seething. And as a cauldron boileth within, when the fierce flame setteth upon it, while it melteth the lard of a fatted hog, and it bubbleth in every part, and dry faggots are set thereunder; so burned in fire his fair streams, and the water boiled; nor had he any mind to flow further onward, but was stayed; for the blast of the might of wise-hearted Hephaestus distressed him. Then with instant prayer he spake winged words unto Hera: "Hera, wherefore hath thy son beset my stream to afflict it beyond all others? I verily am not so much at fault in thine eyes, as are all those others that are helpers of the Trojans. Howbeit I will refrain me, if so thou biddest, and let him also refrain. And I will furthermore swear this oath, never to ward off from the Trojans the day of evil, nay, not when all Troy shall burn with the burning of consuming fire, and the warlike sons of the Achaeans shall be the burners thereof."

But when the goddess, white-armed Hera, heard this plea, forthwith she spake unto Hephaestus, her dear son: "Hephaestus, withhold thee, my glorious son; it is nowise seemly thus to smite an immortal god for mortals' sake."

So spake she, and Hephaestus quenched his wondrous-blazing fire, and once more in the fair river-bed the flood rushed down.

But when the fury of Xanthus was quelled, the twain thereafter ceased, for Hera stayed them, albeit she was wroth; but upon the other gods fell strife heavy and grievous, and in diverse ways the spirit in their breasts was blown. Together then they clashed with a mighty din and the wide earth rang, and round about great heaven pealed as with a trumpet. And Zeus heard it where he sat upon Olympus, and the heart within him laughed aloud in joy as he beheld the gods joining in strife. Then no more held they long aloof, for Ares, piercer of shields, began the fray, and first leapt upon Athene, brazen spear in hand, and spake a word of reviling: "Wherefore now again, thou dog-fly, art thou making gods to clash with gods in strife, in the fierceness of thy daring, as thy proud spirit sets thee on? Rememberest thou not what time thou movedst Diomedes, Tydeus' son, to wound me, and thyself in the sight of all didst grasp the spear and let drive straight at me, and didst rend my fair flesh? Therefore shalt thou now methinks, pay the full price of all that thou hast wrought."


- Homer, The Iliad, Book 21 (A. T. Murray translation)


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Then in turn the glorious son of Pelegon answered him:
“High-hearted son of Peleus, why ask of my generation?
I am from Paionia far away, where the soil is generous,
and lead the men of Paionia with long spears; and this for me
is the eleventh day since I arrived in Ilion.
For my generation, it is from the broad waters of Axios,
Axios, who floods the land with the loveliest waters.
His son was Pelegon the spear-famed; but men say I am Pelegon’s
son; now, glorious Achilleus, we shall fight together.”
So he spoke, challenging, and brilliant Achilleus uplifted
the Pelian ash spear, but the warrior Asteropaios
threw with both spears at the same time, being ambidextrous.
With the one spear he hit the shield but could not altogether
break through the shield, since the gold stayed it that the god had given.
With the other spear he struck Achilleus on the right forearm
and grazed it so that the blood gushed out in a dark cloud, and the spear
overpassed him and fixed in the ground, straining to reach his body.
Throwing second Achilleus let fly at Asteropaios
with the straight-flying ash spear in a fury to kill him,
but missed his man and hit the high bank, so that the ash spear
was driven half its length and stuck in the bank of the river.
But the son of Peleus, drawing from beside his thigh the sharp sword,
sprang upon him in fury; and Asteropaios could not
with his heavy hand wrench Achilleus’ ash spear free of the river-bank.
Three times he struggled straining to wrench it clear, and three times
gave over the effort, and now for the fourth time he was bending
over the ash spear of Aiakides, trying to break it,
but before this Achilleus took his life with the sword from close up
for he struck him in the belly next the navel, and all his guts poured
out on the ground, and a mist of darkness closed over both eyes
as he gasped life out, and springing upon his chest Achilleus
stripped his armor away and spoke in triumph above him:
“Lie so: it is hard even for those sprung of a river
to fight against the children of Kronos, whose strength is almighty.
You said you were of the generation of the wide-running river,
but I claim that I am of the generation of great Zeus.
The man is my father who is lord over many Myrmidons,
Peleus, Aiakos’ son, but Zeus was the father of Aiakos.
And as Zeus is stronger than rivers that run to the sea, so
the generation of Zeus is made stronger than that of a river.
For here is a great river beside you, if he were able
to help; but it is not possible to fight Zeus, son of Kronos.
Not powerful Acheloios matches his strength against Zeus,
not the enormous strength of Ocean with his deep-running waters,
Ocean, from whom all rivers are and the entire sea
and all springs and all deep wells have their waters of him, yet
even Ocean is afraid of the lightning of great Zeus
and the dangerous thunderbolt when it breaks from the sky crashing.”
So he spoke, and pulled the bronze spear free of the river bluff
and left him there, when he had torn the heart of life from him,
sprawled in the sands and drenched in the dark water. And about
Asteropaios the eels and the other fish were busy
tearing him and nibbling the fat that lay by his kidneys.
But Achilleus went on after the Paionians crested with horse-hair
who had scattered in fear along the banks of the eddying river
when they had seen their greatest man in the strong encounter
gone down by force under the sword and the hands of Peleïdes.
There he killed Thersilochos and Astypylos and Mydon,
Mnesos and Thrasios, and Ainios and Ophelestes.
Now swift Achilleus would have killed even more Paionians
except that the deep-whirling river spoke to him in anger
and in mortal likeness, and the voice rose from the depth of the eddies:
“O Achilleus, your strength is greater, your acts more violent
than all men’s; since always the very gods are guarding you.
If the son of Kronos has given all Trojans to your destruction,
drive them at least out of me to the plain, and there work your havoc.
For the loveliness of my waters is crammed with corpses, I cannot
find a channel to cast my waters into the bright sea
since I am congested with the dead men you kill so brutally.
Let me alone, then; lord of the people, I am confounded.”
Then in answer to him spoke Achilleus of the swift feet:
“All this, illustrious Skamandros, shall be as you order.
But I will not leave off my killing of the proud Trojans
until I have penned them inside their city, and attempted Hektor
strength against strength, until he has killed me or I have killed him.”
He spoke, and like something more than mortal swept down on the Trojans.
And now the deep-whirling river called aloud to Apollo:
“Shame, lord of the silver bow, Zeus’ son; you have not kept
the counsels of Kronion, who very strongly ordered you
to stand by the Trojans and defend them, until the sun setting
at last goes down and darkens all the generous ploughland.”
He spoke: and spear-famed Achilleus leapt into the middle water
with a spring from the bluff, but the river in a boiling surge was upon him
and rose making turbulent all his waters, and pushed off
the many dead men whom Achilleus had killed piled in abundance
in the stream; these, bellowing like a bull, he shoved out
on the dry land, but saved the living in the sweet waters
hiding them under the huge depths of the whirling current.
And about Achilleus in his confusion a dangerous wave rose
up, and beat against his shield and pushed it. He could not
brace himself with his feet, but caught with his hands at an elm tree
tall and strong grown, but this uptorn by the roots and tumbling
ripped away the whole cliff and with its dense tangle of roots stopped
the run of the lovely current and fallen full length in the water
dammed the very stream. Achilleus uprising out of the whirlpool
made a dash to get to the plain in the speed of his quick feet
in fear, but the great god would not let him be, but rose on him
in a darkening edge of water, minded to stop the labor
of brilliant Achilleus and fend destruction away from the Trojans.
The son of Peleus sprang away the length of a spearcast
running with the speed of the black eagle, the marauder
who is at once the strongest of flying things and the swift est.
In the likeness of this he sped away, on his chest the bronze armor
clashed terribly, and bending away to escape from the river
he fled, but the river came streaming after him in huge noise.
And as a man running a channel from a spring of dark water
guides the run of the water among his plants and his gardens
with a mattock in his hand and knocks down the blocks in the channel;
in the rush of the water all the pebbles beneath are torn loose
from place, and the water that has been dripping suddenly jets on
in a steep place and goes too fast even for the man who guides it;
so always the crest of the river was overtaking Achilleus
for all his speed of foot, since gods are stronger than mortals.
And every time swift-footed brilliant Achilleus would begin
to turn and stand and fight the river, and try to discover
if all the gods who hold the wide heaven were after him, every
time again the enormous wave of the sky-fed river
would strike his shoulders from above. He tried, in his desperation,
to keep a high spring with his feet, but the river was wearing his knees out
as it ran fiercely beneath him and cut the ground from under
his feet. Peleïdes groaned aloud, gazing into the wide sky:
“Father Zeus, no god could endure to save me from the river
who am so pitiful. And what then shall become of me’?
It is not so much any other Uranian god who has done this
but my own mother who beguiled me with falsehoods, who told me
that underneath the battlements of the armored Trojans
I should be destroyed by the flying shafts of Apollo.
I wish now Hektor had killed me, the greatest man grown in this place.
A brave man would have been the slayer, as the slain was a brave man.
But now this is a dismal death I am doomed to be caught in,
trapped in a big river as if I were a boy and a swineherd
swept away by a torrent when he tries to cross in a rainstorm.”
So he spoke, and Poseidon and Athene swiftly came near him
and stood beside him with their shapes in the likeness of mortals
and caught him hand by hand and spoke to him in assurance.
First of them to speak was the shaker of the earth, Poseidon.
“Do not be afraid, son of Peleus, nor be so anxious,
such are we two of the gods who stand beside you to help you,
by the consent of Zeus, myself and Pallas Athene.
Thereby it is not your destiny to be killed by the river,
but he shall be presently stopped, and you yourself shall behold it.
“But we also have close counsel to give you, if you will believe us.
Do not let stay your hands from the collision of battle
until you have penned the people of Troy, those who escape you,
inside the famed wall of Ilion. Then when you have taken Hektor’s life
go back again to the ships. We grant you the winning of glory.”
So speaking the two went back again among the immortals,
but Achilleus went on, and the urgency of the gods strongly stirred him,
into the plain. But the river filled with an outrush of water
and masses of splendid armor from the young men who had perished
floated there, and their bodies, but against the hard drive of the river
straight on he kept a high spring with his feet, and the river wide running
could not stop him now, since he was given great strength by Athene.
But Skamandros did not either abate his fury, but all the more
raged at Peleion, and high uplifting the wave of his waters
gathered it to a crest, and called aloud upon Simoeis:
“Beloved brother, let even the two of us join to hold back
the strength of a man, since presently he will storm the great city
of lord Priam. The Trojans cannot stand up to him in battle.
But help me beat him off with all speed, and make full your currents
with water from your springs, and rouse up all of your torrents
and make a big wave rear up and wake the heavy confusion
and sound of timbers and stones, so we can stop this savage man
who is now in his strength and rages in fury like the immortals.
For I say that his strength will not be enough for him nor his beauty
nor his arms in their splendor, which somewhere deep down under the waters
shall lie folded under the mud; and I will whelm his own body
deep, and pile it over with abundance of sands and rubble
numberless, nor shall the Achaians know where to look for
his bones to gather them, such ruin will I pile over him.
And there shall his monument be made, and he will have no need
of any funeral mound to be buried in by the Achaians.”
He spoke, and rose against Achilleus, turbulent, boiling
to a crest, muttering in foam and blood and dead bodies
until the purple wave of the river fed from the bright sky
lifted high and caught in its waters the son of Peleus.
But Hera, greatly fearing for Achilleus, cried in a loud voice
lest he be swept away in the huge deep-eddying river,
and at once thereafter appealed to her own dear son, Hephaistos:
“Rise up, god of the dragging feet, my child; for we believe
that whirling Xanthos would be fit antagonist for you in battle.
Go now quickly to the help of Achilleus, make shine a great flame
while I raise up and bring in out of the sea a troublesome
storm of the west wind and the whitening south wind, a storm
that will burn the heads of the Trojans and burn their armor
carrying the evil flame, while you by the banks of Xanthos
set fire to the trees and throw fire on the river himself, and do not
by any means let him turn you with winning words or revilements.
Do not let your fury be stopped until such time as
I lift my voice and cry to you. Then stay your weariless burning.”
Hera spoke, and Hephaistos set on them an inhuman fire.
First he kindled a fire in the plain and burned the numerous
corpses that lay there in abundance, slain by Achilleus,
and all the plain was parched and the shining water was straitened.
As when the north wind of autumn suddenly makes dry
a garden freshly watered and makes glad the man who is tending it,
so the entire flat land was dried up with Hephaistos burning
the dead bodies. Then he turned his flame in its shining
into the river. The elms burned, the willows and tamarisks,
the clover burned and the rushes and the galingale, all those
plants that grew in abundance by the lovely stream of the river.
The eels were suffering and the fish in the whirl of the water
who leaped out along the lovely waters in every direction
in affliction under the hot blast of resourceful Hephaistos.
The strength of the river was burning away; he gave voice and called out
by name: “Hephaistos, not one of the gods could stand up against you.
I for one could not fight the flame of a fire like this one.
Leave your attack. Brilliant Achilleus can capture the city
of the Trojans, now, for me. What have I to do with this quarrel?”
He spoke, blazing with fire, and his lovely waters were seething.
And as a cauldron that is propped over a great fire boils up
dancing on its whole circle with dry sticks burning beneath it
as it melts down the fat of swine made tender, so Xanthos’
lovely streams were burned with the fire, and the water was boiling
and would not flow along but was stopped under stress of the hot blast
strongly blown by resourceful Hephaistos. And now the river
cried out to Hera in the winged words of strong supplication:
“Hera, why did your son assault me to trouble my waters
beyond others? It is not so much I who have done anything against you
as all the rest of the gods who stand by to help the Trojans.
Now indeed I will leave off, if such is your order,
but let him leave off too, I will swear you a promise
not ever to drive the day of evil away from the Trojans,
not even when all the city of Troy is burned in the ravening
fire, on that day when the warlike sons of the Achaians burn it.”
Now when the goddess of the white arms, Hera, had heard this
immediately she spoke to her own dear son, Hephaistos:
“Hephaistos, hold, my glorious child, since it is not fitting
to batter thus an immortal god for the sake of mortals.”
So she spoke, and Hephaistos quenched his inhuman fire. Now
the lovely waters ran their ripples back in the channel.
But when the strength of Xanthos had been beaten, these two gods
rested, since Hera, for all she was still angry, restrained them.
But upon the other gods descended the wearisome burden
of hatred, and the wind of their fury blew from division,
and they collided with a grand crash, the broad earth echoing
and the huge sky sounded as with trumpets. Zeus heard it
from where he sat on Olympos, and was amused in his deep heart
for pleasure, as he watched the gods’ collision in conflict.
Thereafter they stood not long apart from each other, for Ares
began it, the shield-stabber, and rose up against Athene
with the brazen spear in his hand, and spoke a word of revilement:
“Why once more, you dogfly, have you stirred up trouble among the gods
with the blast of your blown fury, and the pride of your heart driving you?
Do you not remember how you set on Diomedes, Tydeus’
son, to spear me, and yourself laying hold of the far-seen pike
pushed it straight into me and tore my skin in its beauty.
So now I am minded to pay you back for all you have done me.”


- Homer, The Iliad, Book 21 (Richmond Lattimore translation)