Apply'd each nerve, and swinging round on high,
With force tempestuous let the ruin fly: [broke:
The huge stone thundering through his buckler
His slacken'd knees receiv'd the numbing stroke;
Great Hector falls extended on the field,
His bulk supporting on the shatter'd shield:
Nor wanted heavenly aid: Apollo's might
Confirm'd his sinews, and restor'd to fight.
And now both heroes their broad falchions drew:
In flaming circles round their heads they flew;
But then by heralds' voice the word was given,
The sacred ministers of Earth and Heaven :
Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ,
And sage Idæus on the part of Troy,
Between the swords their peaceful sceptres rear'd;
And first Idæus' awful voice was heard:
"Forbear, my sons! your farther force to prove,
Both dear to men, and both belov'd of Jove.
To either host your matchless worth is known,
Fach sounds your praise, and war is all your own.
But now the Night extends her awful shade;
The goddess parts you: be the Night obey'd."
To whom great Ajax his high soul express'd:
"O sage! to Hector be these words address'd;
Let him who first provok'd our chiefs to fight,
Let him demand the sanction of the Night;
If first he ask it, I content obey,
And cease the strife when Hector shows the way."
"Oh first of Greeks;" (his noble foe rejoin'd)
"Whom Heaven adorns, superior to thy kind,
With strength of body, and with worth of mind!
Now martial law commands us to forbear;
Hereafter we shall meet in glorious war,
Some future day shall lengthen out the strife,
And let the gods decide of death or life!
Since then the Night extends her gloomy shade,
And Heaven enjoins it, be the Night obey'd.
Return, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian friends,
And joy the nations whom thy arm defends;
As I shall glad each chief, and Trojan wife,
Who wearies Heaven with vows for Hector's life.
But let us, on this memorable day,
Exchange some gift; that Greece and Troy may
Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend; And each brave foe was in his soul a friend." With that, a sword with stars of silver grac'd, The baldric studded, and the sheath enchas'd, He gave the Greek. The generous Greek bestow'd A radiant belt that rich with purple glow'd. Then with majestic grace they quit the plain; This seeks the Grecian, that the Phrygian train. The Trojan bands returning Hector wait, And hail with joy the champion of their state: Fscap'd great Ajax, they survey'd him round, Alive, unharm'd, and vigorous from his wound. To Troy's high gates the godlike man they bear, Their present triumph, as their late despair.
But Ajax, glorying in his hardy deed, The well-arm'd Greeks to Agamemnon lead. A steer for sacrifice the king design'd, Of full five years, and of the nobler kind. The victim falls; they strip the smoking hide, The beast they quarter, and the joints divide; Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, Fach takes his seat, and each receives his share. The king himself (an honorary sign) Before great Ajax plac'd the mighty chine. When now the rage of hunger was remov'd, Nestor, in each persuasive art approv'd,
The sage whose counsels long had sway'd the rest, In words like these his prudent thought exprest: "How dear, O kings! this fatal day has cost! What Greeks are perish'd! what a people lost! What tides of blood have drench'd Scamandra's shore!
What crowds of heroes sunk, to rise no more!
Then hear me, chief! nor let the morrow's light
Awake thy squadrons to new toils of fight:
Some space at least permit the war to breathe,
While we to flames our slaughter'd friends bequeath.
From the red field their scatter'd bodies bear;
And nigh the fleet a funeral structure rear:
So decent urns their snowy bones may keep,
And pious children o'er their ashes weep.
Here, where on one promiscuous pile they blaz'd,
High o'er them all a general tomb be rais'd;
Next, to secure our camp, and naval powers,
Raise an embattled wall, with lofty towers;
From space to space be ample gates around,
For passing chariots; and a trench profound.
So Greece to combat shall in safety go,
Nor fear the fierce incursions of the foe."
'Twas thus the sage his wholesome counsel mov'd;
The sceptred kings of Greece his words approv'd.
Meanwhile, conven'd at Priam's palace-gate,
The Trojan peers in nightly council sate;
A senate void of order, as of choice;
Their hearts were fearful, and confus'd their voice.
Antenor rising, thus demands their ear:
"Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiliars, hear!
'Tis Heaven the counsel of my breast inspires,
And I but move what every god requires;
Let Sparta's treasure be this hour restor'd,
And Argive Helen own her ancient lord.
The ties of faith, the sworn alliance broke,
Our impious battles the just gods provoke.
As this advice ye practise, or reject,
So hope success, or dread the dire effect."
The senior spoke, and sate. To whom reply'd
The graceful husband of the Spartan bride;
"Cold counsels, Trojan, may become thy years,
But sound ungrateful in a warrior's cars:
Old man, if, void of fallacy or art,
Thy words express the purpose of try heart,
Thou, in thy time, more sound advice hast given,
But wisdom has its date, assign'd by Heaven.
Then hear me, princes of the Trojan name!
Their treasures I'll restore, but not the dame;
My treasures too, for peace, I will resign;
But be this bright possession ever mine."
'Twas then, the growing discord to compose,
Slow from his seat the reverend Priam rose:
His godlike aspect deep attention drew:
He paus'd, and these pacific words ensue :
"Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiliar bands!
Now take refreshment as the hour demands:
Guard well the walls, relieve the watch of night,
Till the new Sun restore the cheerful light:
Then shall our herald to th' Atrides sent,
Before their ships proclaim my son's intent.
Next let a truce be ask'd, that Troy may burn
Her slaughter'd heroes, and their bones inurn;
That done, once more the fate of war be try'd,
And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide!"
The monarch spoke! the warriors snatch'd with'
haste,
(Each at his post in arms) a short repast. Soon as the rosy morn had wak'd the day, To the black ships Idaus bent his way;
There, to the sons of Mars, in council found,
He reis'd his voice; the host stood listening round:
"Ye sons of Atreus, and ye Greeks, give ear!
The words of Troy and Troy's great monarch hear,
Pleas'd may ye hear (so Heaven succeed my prayers)
What Paris, author of the war, declares.
The spoils and treasures he to Ilion bore,
(Oh, had he perish'd ere they touch'd our shore!)
He proffers injur'd Greece, with large increase
Of added Trojan wealth, to buy the peace.
But to restore the beauteous bride again,
This Greece demands, and Troy requests in vain.
Next, O ye chiefs! we ask a truce, to burn
Our slaughter'd heroes, and their bones inurn.
That done, once more the fate of war be try'd,
And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide!"
The Greeks gave ear, but none the silence broke:
At length Tydides rose, and rising spoke:
Oh, take not, friends! defrauded of your fame,
Their proffer'd wealth, nor ev'n the Spartan dame.
Let conquest make them ours: fate shakes their
And Troy already totters to her fall."
[wall,
Th' admiring chiefs, and all the Grecian name,
With general shouts return'd him loud acclaim.
Then thus the king of kings rejects the peace:
"Herald; in him thou hear st the voice of Greece.
For what remains; let funeral flames be fed
With heroes' corpse; I war not with the dead :
Go search your slaughter'd chiefs on yonder plain,
And gratify the manes of the slain :
Be witness, Jove, whose thunder rolls on high!"
He said, and rear'd his sceptre to the sky.
To sacred Troy, where all her princes lay
To wait th' event, the herald bent his way.
He came, and standing in the midst, explain'd
The peace rejected, but the truce obtain'd.
Straight to their several cares the Trojans move;
Some search the plains, some fell the sounding
grove:
Nor less the Greeks, descending on the shore,
Hew'd the green forests, and the bodies bore.
And now froin forth the chambers of the main,
To shed his sacred light on Earth again,
Arose the golden chariot of the day,
And tipt the mountains with a purple ray.
In mingled throngs the Greek and Trojan train
Though heaps of carnage search the mournful plain.
Scarce could the friend his slaughter'd friend ex-
plore,
With dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with gore.
The wounds they wash'd, their pious tears they shed,
And, laid along their cars, deplor'd the dead;
Sage Priam check'd their grief: with silent haste
The bodies decent on their piles were plac'd:
With melting hearts the cold remains they burn'd;
And sadly flow to sacred Troy return'd.
Nor less the Greeks their pious sorrows shed,
And decent on the pile dispose the dead;
The cold remains consume with equal care;
And, slowly, sadly, to their fleet repair.
Now, ere the morn had streak'd with reddening light
The doubtful confines of the day and night;
About the dying flames the Greeks appear'd,
And round the pile a general tomb they rear d.
Shen, to secure the camp and naval powers,
They rais'd embattled walls with lofty towers :
From space to space were ample gates around,
For passing chariots; and a trench profound,
Of large extent; and deep in earth, below,
Strong piles infix'd stood adverse to the foe.
So toil'd the Greeks; meanwhile the gods above
In shining circle round their father Jove,
Amaz'd beheld the wondrous works of man:
Then he, whose trident shakes the Earth, began:
What mortals henceforth shall our power adore,
Our fanes frequent, our oracles implore,
If the proud Grecians thus successful boast
Their rising bulwarks on the sea-beat coast?
See the long walls extending to the main,
No god consulted, and no victim slain!
Their fame shall fill the world's remotest ends;
Wide, as the morn her golden beam extends,
While old Laomedon's divine abodes,
Those radiant structures rais'd by labouring gods,
Shall, raz'd and lost, in long oblivion sleep."
Thus spoke the hoary monarch of the deep.
Th' almighty thunderer with a frown replies,
That clouds the world, and blackens half the skies:
"Strong god of Ocean! thou, whose rage can make
The solid Earth's eternal basis shake;
What cause of fear from mortal works could move
The meanest subject of our realms above?
Where'er the Sun's refulgent rays are cast,
Thy power is honour'd, and thy fame shall last.
But yon proud work no future age shall view,
No trace remain where once the glory grew,
The sapp'd foundations by thy force shall fall,
And, whelm'd beneath thy waves, drop the huge
wall:
Vast drifts of sand shall change the former shore;
The ruin vanish'd, and the name no more."
Thus they in Heaven; whole o'er the Grecian
The rolling Sun descending to the main [train,
Beheld the finish'd work. Their bulls they slew:
Black from the tents the savoury vapours flew.
And now the fleet, arriv'd from Lemnos' stands,
With Bacchus' blessings cheer'd the generous bands.
Of fragrant wine the rich Eunæus sent
A thousand measures to the royal tent.
(Eunæus, whom Hypsipyle of yore
To Jason, shepherd of his people, bore)
The rest they purchas'd at their proper cost,
And well the plenteous freight supply'd the host :
Each, in exchange, proportion'd treasures gave :.
Some brass, or iron; some an ox, or slave.
All night they feast, the Greek and Trojan powers;
Those on the fields, and these within their towers.
But Jove averse the signs of wrath display'd,
And shot red lightnings through the gloomy shade:
Humbled they stood; pale horrour seiz'd on all,
While the deep thunder shook th' aërial hall.
Each pour'd to Jove, before the bowl was crown'd:
And large libations drench'd the thirsty ground:
Then late, refresh'd with sleep from toils of fight,
| Enjoy'd the balmy blessings of the night.
THE SECOND BATTLE, AND THE DISTRESS OF THE
GREEKS.
JUPITER assembles a council of the deities, and
threatens them with the pains of Tartarus if
they assist either side: Minerva only obtains of
him that she may direct the Greeks by her counsels. The armies join battle: Jupiter on Mount Ida weighs in his balances the fates of both, and affrights the Greeks with his thunders and lightnings. Nestor alone continues in the field, in great danger; Diomed relieves him; whose exploits, and those of Hector, are excellently described. Juno endeavours to animate Neptune to the assistance of the Greeks, but in The acts of Teucer, who is at length Juno and wounded by Hector, and carried off. Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians; but are restrained by Iris, sent from Jupiter. The night puts an end to the battle.
the field (the Greeks being driven to their fortifications before the ships) and gives orders to keep the watch all night in the camp, to prevent the enemy from reimbarking and escaping by flight. They kindle fives through all the field, and pass the night under arms.
The time of seven and twenty days is employed from the opening of the poem to the end of this book. The scene here (except of the celestial machines) lies in the field toward the sea
AURORA now, fair daughter of the dawn,
Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn;
When Jove conven'd the senate of the skies,
Where high Olympus' cloudy tops arise.
The sire of gods his awful silence broke,
The heavens attentive trembled as he spoke :
"Celestial states, immortal gods! give ear,
Hear our decree, and reverence what ye hear;
The fix'd decree,' which not all Heaven can move;
Thou fate! fulfil it; and, ye powers, approve!
What god but enters yon forbidden field,
Who yields assistance, or but wills to yield;
Back to the skies with shame he shall be driven,
Gash'd with dishonest wounds, the scorn of Heaven:
Or far, oh far from steep Olympus thrown,
Low in the dark Tartarean gulf shall groan,
With burning chains fix'd to the brazen floors,
And lock'd by Hell's inexorable doors;
As deep beneath th' infernal centre hurl'd,
As from that centre to th' ethereal world.
Let him who tempts me, dread those dire abodes;
And know, th' almighty is the god of gods.
League all your forces then, ye powers above,
Juin all, and try th' omnipotence of Jove;
[main:
Let down our golden everlasting chain,
Whose strong embrace holds Heaven, and earth, and
Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth,
To drag, by this, the thunderer down to Earth:
Ye strive in vain! If I but stretch this hand,
I heave the gods, the ocean, and the land;
I fix the chain to great Olympus' height,
And the vast world hangs trembling in my sight!
For such I reign, unbounded and above;
And such are men and gods, compar'd to Jove."
Th' almighty spoke, nor durst the powers reply,
A reverend horrour silenc'd all the sky;
Trembling they stood before their sovereign's look ;
-At length his best belov'd, the power of wisdom,
spoke :
"O first and greatest! god, by gods ador'd? We own thy might, our father and our lord!
But ah! permit to pity human state;
If not to help, at least lament their fate.
From fields forbidden we submiss refrain,
With arms unaiding mourn our Argives slain;
Yet grant my counsels still their breasts may move,
Or all must perish in the wrath of Jove."
The cloud-compelling god her suit approv'd,
And smil'd superior on his best belov’d.
Then call'd his coursers, and his chariot took;
The stedfast firmament beneath him shook :
Rapt by th' ethereal steeds the chariot roll'd;
Brass were their hoofs, their curling manes of gold.
Of Heaven's undrossy gold the god's array
Refulgent, flash'd intolerable day.
High on the throne he shines: his course-s fly
Between th' extended Earth and starry sky.
But when to Ida's topmost height he came,
(Fair nurse of fountains, and of savage game)
Where, o'er her pointed summits proudly rais'd,
His fame breath'd odours, and his altars blaz'd:
There, from his radiant car the sacred sire
Of gods and men releas'd the steeds of fire:
Blue ambient mists th' immortal steeds embrac'd;
High on the cloudy point his seat he plac'd;
Thence his broad eye the subject world surveys,
The town, and tents, and navigable seas.
Now had the Grecians snatch'd a short repast,
And buckled on their shining arms with haste.
Troy rouz'd as soon; for on this dreadful day
The fate of fathers, wives, and infants, lay.
The gates unfolding pour forth all their train;
Squadrons on squadrons cloud the dusky plain:
Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling
ground;
The tumult thickens, and the skies resound.
And now with shouts the shocking armies clos'd,
To lances lances, shields to shields oppos'd,
Host against host with shadowy legions drew,
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew,
Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries,
Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise;
With streaming blood the slippery fields are dy'd,
And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide.
Long as the morning beams increasing bright,
O'er Heaven's clear azure spread the sacred light;
Commutual death the fate of war confounds,
Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds.
But when the Sun the height of Heaven ascends;
The sire of gods his golden scales suspends,
With equal band: in these explor'd the fate
Of Greece and Troy, and pois'd the mighty weight.
Press'd with its load, the Grecian balance lies
Low sunk on Earth, the Trojan strikes the skies,
Then Jove from Ida's top his horrour spreads;
The clouds burst dreadful o'er the Grecian heads :
Thick lightnings flash; the muttering thunder
Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls.
Before his wrath the trembling hosts retire;
The god in terrours, and the skies on fire,
Nor great Idomeneus that sight could bear,
Nor each stern Ajax, thunderbolts of war:
Nor he, the king of men, th' alarm sustain'd;
Nestor alone amidst the storm remain’d.
Unwilling he remain'd, for Paris' dart
Had pierc'd his courser in a mortal part:
Fix'd in the forehead where the springing mane
Curl'd o'er the brow, it stung him to the brain:
Mad with his anguish, he begins to rear,
Paw with his houfs aloft, and lash the air.
Scarce had his falchion cut the reins, and freed
Th' encumber'd chariot from the dying steed,
When dreadful Hector, thundering through the war,
Pour'd to the tumult on his whirling car.
That day had stretch'd beneath his matchless hand
The hoary monarch of the Pylian band;
But Diomed beheld: from forth the croud
He rush'd, and on Ulysses call'd aloud.
"Whither, oh whither does Ulysses run?
Oh flight unworthy great Laërtes' son!
Mixt with the vulgar shall thy fate be found,
Pierc'd in the back, a vile, dishonest wound?
Oh turn and save from Hector's direful rage
The glory of the Greeks, the Pylian sage."
His fruitless words are lost unheard in air,
Ulysses seeks the ships, and shelters there.
But bold Tydides to the rescue goes,
A single warrior 'midst a host of foes;
Before the coursers with a sudden spring
He leap'd, and anxious thus bespoke the king:
"Great perils, father! wait th' unequal fight;
These younger champions will oppress thy might.
Thy veins no more with ancient vigour glow;
Weak is thy servant, and thy coursers slow.
Then haste, ascend my seat, and from the car
Observe the steeds of Tros, renown'd in war,
Practis'd alike to turn, to stop, to chase,
To dare the fight, or urge the rapid race:
These late obey'd Eneas' guiding rein;
Leave thou thy chariot to our faithful train;
With these against yon Trojans will we go,
Nor shall great Hector want an equal foe;
Fierce as he is, er'n he may learn to fear
The thirsty fury of my flying spear."
But ah, what grief, should haughty Hector boast,
I fled inglorious to the guarded coast!
Before that dire disgrace shall blast my fame,
O'erwhelm me, Earth; and hide a warrior's
shame."
To whom Gerenian Nestor thus reply'd;
"Gods! can thy courage fear the Phrygian's pride?
Hector may vaunt, but who shall heed the boast ?
Not those who felt thy arm, the Dardan host,
Nor Troy, yet bleeding in her heroes lost;
Not ev'n a Phrygian dame, who dreads the sword
That laid in dust her lov'd, lamented lord."
He said, and hasty o'er the gasping throng
Drives the swift steeds; the chariot smokes along.
The shouts of Trojans thicken in the wind;
The storm of hissing javelins pours behind.
Then, with a voice that shakes the solid skies,
Pleas'd Hector braves the warrior as he flies.
"Go, mighty hero, grac'd above the rest
In seats of council and the sumptuous feast;
Now hope no more those honours from thy train;
Go, less than woman, in the form of man!
To scale our walls, to wrap our towers in flames,
To lead in exile the fair Phrygian dames, [fled:
Thy once proud hopes, presumptuous prince! are
This arm shall reach thy heart, and stretch thee
dead."
Now fears dissuade him, and now hopes invite,
To stop his coursers, and to stand the fight;
Thrice turn'd the chief, and thrice imperial Jove
On Ida's summits thunder'd from above:
Great Hector heard; he saw the flashing light,
(The sign of conquest) and thus urg'd the fight:
"Hear, every Trojan, Lycian, Dardan band,
Thus said the chief; and Nestor, skill'd in war, All fam'd in war, and dreadful hand to hand.
Approves his counsel, and ascends the car:
The steeds he left, their trusty servants hold;
Furymedon, and Sthenelus the bold:
The reverend charioteer directs the course,
And strains his aged arm to lash the horse.
Hector they face; unknowing how to fear,
Fierce he drove on; Tydides whirl'd his spear.
The spear with erring haste mistook its way,
But plùng'd in Eniopeus' bosom lay.
His opening hand in death forsakes the rein;
The steeds fly back: he falls, and spurns the plain.
Great Hector sorrows for his servant kill'd,
Yet unreveng'd permits to press the field;
Till, to supply his place and rule the car,
Rose Archeptolemus, the fierce in war.
And now had death and horrour cover'd all;
Like timorous flocks the Trojans in their wall
Enclos'd had bled: but Jove with awful sound
Roll'd the big thunder oe'r the vast profound:
Full in Tydides face the lightning flew;
The ground before him flam'd with sulphur blue;
The quivering steeds fell prostrate at the sight;
And Nestor's trembling hand confess'd his fright;
He dropp'd the reins; and, shook with sacred dread,
Thus, turning, warn'd th' intrepid Diomed:
"O chief! too daring in thy friend's defence,
Retire advis'd, and urge the chariot hence.
This day, averse, the sovereign of the skies
Assists great Hector, and our palm denies.
Some other sun may see the happier hour,
When Greece shall conquer by his heavenly power.
"Tis not in man his fix'd decree to move:
The great will glory to submit to Jove."
"O reverend prince!" (Tydides thus replies) "Thy years are awful, and thy words are wise.
Be mindful of the wreaths your arms have won,
Your great forefathers' glories, and your own.
Heard ye the voice of Jove? Success and fame
Await on Troy, on Greece eternal shame.
In vain they skulk behind their boasted wall,
Weak bulwarks! destin'd by this arm to fall.
High o'er their slighted trench our steeds shall
And pass victorious o'er the level'd mound. [bound;
Soon as before yon hollow ships we stand,
Fight each with flames, and toss the blazing brand;
Till, their proud navy wrapt in smoke and fires,
All Greece, encompass'd, in one blaze expires.'
Furious he said; then, bending o'er the yoke,
Encourag'd his proud steeds, while thus he spoke :
"Now, Xanthus, Ethon, Lampus! urge the chase,
And, thou, Podargus! prove thy generous race:
Be fleet, be fearless, this important day,
And all your master's well-spent care repay.
For this, high-fed in plenteous stalls ye stand,
Serv'd with pure wheat, and by a princess' hand;
For this my spouse, of great Aëtion's line,
So oft bas steep'd the strengthening grain in wine.
Now swift pursue, now thunder uncontrol'd;
Give me to seize rich Nestor's shield of gold;
From Tydeus' shoulders strip the costly load,
Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god :
These if we gain, then victory, ye powers!
This night, this glorious night, the fleet is ours."
That heard, deep anguish stung Saturnia's soul;
She shook her throne that shook the starry pole :
And thus to Neptune: "Thou, whose force can
The stedfast Earth from her foundation shake,
See'st thou the Greeks by fates unjust opprest,
Nor swells that heart in thy immortal breast?
Yet Ega, Helicè, thy power obey, And gifts unceasing on thine altars lay. Would all the deities of Greece combine, In vain the gloomy thunderer might repine: Sole should he sit, with scarce a god to friend, And see his Trojans to the shades descend: Such be the scene from his Idæan bower; Ungrateful prospect to the sullen power!" Neptune with wrath rejects the rash design: "What rage, what madness, furious queen, is I war not with the highest. All above [thine! Submit and tremble at the hand of Jove." Now godlike Hector, to whose matchless might Jove gave the glory of the destin'd fight, Squadrons on squadrons drives, and fills the fields With close-rang'd chariots, and with thicken'd
Where the deep trench in length extended lay,
Compacted troops stand wedg'd in firm array,
A dreadful front! they shake the brands, and threat
With long-destroying flames the hostile fleet.
The king of men, by Juno's self inspir'd,
Tail'd through the tents, and all his army fir'd.
Swift as he mov'd he lifted in his hand
His purple robe, bright ensign of command.
High on the midmost bark the king appear'd;
There, from Ulysses' deck his voice was heard;
To Ajax and Achilles reach'd the sound,
Whose distant ships the guarded navy bound.
"Oh Argives! shame of human race," he cry'd,
(The hollow vessels to his voice reply'd)
"Where now are all your glorious boasts of yore,
Your hasty triumphs on the Lemnian shore?
Each fearless hero dares an hundred foes,
While the feast lasts, and while the goblet flows;
But who to meet one martial man is found,
When the fight rages, and the flames surround?
O mighty Jove! oh sire of the distress'd?
Was ever king like me, like me oppress'd?
power immense, with justice arm'd in vain;
My glory ravish'd, and my people slain !
To thee my vows were breath'd from every shore;
What altar smok'd not with our victims' gore?
With fat of bulls I fed the constant flame,
And ask'd destruction to the Trojan name.
New, gracious god! far humbler our demand!
Give these at least t' escape from Hector's hand,
And save the relics of the Grecian land!"
Thus pray'd the king; and Heaven's great father
His vows, in bitterness of soul preferr'd; [heard
The wrath appeas'd, by happy signs declares,
And gives the people to their monarch's prayers.
His eagle, sacred bird of Heaven! he sent,
A fawn his talons truss'd (divine portent!)
High o'er the wondering hosts he soar'd above,
Who paid their vows to Panomphæan Jove;
Then let the prey before his altar fall,
The Greeks beheld, and transport seiz'd on all;
Encourag'd by the sign, the troops revive,
And fierce on Troy with double fury drive,
Tydides first of all the Grecian force,
O'er the broad ditch impell'd his foaming horse,
Piere'd the deep ranks, their strongest battle tore,
And dy'd his javelin red with Trojan gore.
Young Agelaus (Phradmon was his sire)
With flying coursers shunn'd his dreadful ire:
Struck through the back, the Phrygian fell opprest;
The dart drove on, and issued at his breast
Headlong he quits the car; his arms resound:
His ponderous buckler thunders on the ground.
Forth rush a tide of Greeks, the passage freed;
Th' Atridæ first, th' Ajaces next succeed:
Meriones, like Mars in arms renown'd,
And godlike Idomen, now pass'd the mound:
Evæmon's son next issues to the foe,
And last, young Teucer with his bended bow.
Secure behind the Telamonian shield
The skilful archer wide survey'd the field,
With every shaft some hostile victim slew,
Then close beneath the seven-fold orb withdrew:
The conscious infant so, when fear alarms,
Retires for safety to the mother's arms.
Thus Ajax guards his brother in the field,
Moves as he moves, and turns the shining shield.
Who first by Teucer's mortal arrows bled?
Orsilochus; then fell Ormenus dead:
The god-like Lycophon next press'd the plain,'
With Chromius, Dator, Ophelestes slain :
Bold Hamnopaön breathless sunk to ground;
The bloody pile great Menalippus crown'd.
Heaps fell on heaps, sad trophies of his art,
A Trojan ghost attended every dart.
Great Agamemnon views with joyful eye
The ranks grow thinner as his arrows fly :
"Oh youth for ever dear!" the monarch cry'd,
"Thus, always thus, thy early worth be try'd;
Thy brave example shall retrieve our host,
Thy country's saviour, and thy father's boast!
Sprung from an alien's bed thy sire to grace,
The vigorous offspring of a stol'n embrace,
Proud of his boy, he own'd the generous flame,
And the brave son repays his cares with fame.
Now hear a monarch's vow: If Heaven's high
Give me to raze Troy's long defended towers;
Whatever treasures Greece for me design,
The next rich honorary gift be thine:
Some golden tripod, or distinguish'd car,
With coursers dreadful in the ranks of war;
Or some fair captive, whom thy eyes approve,
Shall recompense the warrior's toils with love."
To this the chief: "With praise the rest inspire,
Nor urge a soul already fill'd with fire.
What strength I have, be now in battle try'd,
Till every shaft in Phrygian blood be dy❜d.
Since rallying from our wall we forc'd the foe,
Still aim'd at Hector have I bent my bow:
Eight forky arrows froin this hand have fled,
And eight bold heroes by their points lie dead:
But sure some god denies me to destroy
This fury of the field, this dog of Troy."
He said, and twang'd the string. The weapon At Hector's breast, and sings along the skies: He miss'd the mark; but pierc'd Gorgy thio's
And drench'd in royal blood the thirsty dart.
(Fair Castianira, nymph of form divine,
This offspring added to king Priam's line.)
As full-blown poppies, overcharg'd with rain,
Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain.
So sinks the youth: his beauteous head, deprest
Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast.
Another shaft the raging archer drew:
That other shaft with erring fury flew,
(From Hector Phoebus turn'd the flying wound)
Yet fell not dry or guiltless to the ground:
Thy breast, brave Archeptolemus! it tore,
And dipt its feathers in no vulgar gore.
Headlong he falls: his sudden fall alarms
The steeds, that startle at his sounding arms.
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