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The Contention of Achilles and Agamemnon.
IN the war of Troy, the Greeks, having facked fome of the neighbouring towns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryfeis and Brifeis, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the laft to Achilles. Chryfes, the father of Chryfeïs, and prieft of Apollo, comes to the Grecian camp to ransom her; with which the action of the poem opens, in the tenth year of the fiege. The priest being refused, and infolently difmiffed by Agamemnon, intreats for vengeance from his God, who inflicts a peftilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a council, and encourages Chalcas to declare the cause of it, who attributes it to the refusal of Chryfeis. The king being obliged to fend back his captive, enters into a furious conteft with Achilles, which Nefton pacifies; however, as he had the abfolute command of the army, he feizes on Brifeis in revenge. Achilles in difcontent withdraws himself and his forces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, fhe fupplicates Jupiter to render them fenfible of the wrong done to her fon, by giving victory to the Trojans. Jupiter granting ber fuit incenfes Juno, between whom the debate runs high, till they are reconciled by the addrefs of Vulcan.
The time of two and twenty days is taken up in this book; nine during the plague, one in the council and quarrel of the princes, and twelve for Jupiter's ftay with the Ethiopians, at whofe return Thetis prefers her petition. The fcene lies in the Grecian camp, then changes to Chryfa, and laftly to Olympus.
CHILLES' wrath, to Greece the direful fpring
Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly Goddess fing!
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The fouls of mighty chiefs untimely flain;
Whofe limbs unbury'd on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore;
Since great Achilles and Atrides ftrove,
Declare, O Mufe! in what ill-fated hour,
Sprung the fierce ftrife, from what offended power? 10
Latona's fon a dire contagion spread,
And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead;
The king of men his reverend prieft defy'd,
And for the king's offence the people dy'd.
For Chryfes fought with coftly gifts to gain
Such was the fovereign doom, and fuch the will of His captive daughter from the victor's chain.
And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
May Jove'reftore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore
But oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,
And give Chryfeis to these arms again;
If mercy fail, yet let my presents move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, fon of Jove.
The Creeks in fhouts their joint affent declare,
The priest to reverence, and release the fair.
Not fo Atrides. he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the facred fire, and thus reply'd:
Hence, on thy life, and fly those hoftilé plains, 35
Nor afk, prefumptuous, what the king detains;
Hence, with tny laurel crown, and golden rod,
Nor truft too far those enfigns of thy God.
Mine is thy daughter, prieft, and shall remain;
He said, and fat: when Chalcas thus repli'd:
Chalcas the wife, the Grecian priest and guide,
That facred feer, whofe comprehensive view
The past, the prefent, and the future knew:
Uprising flow, the venerable fage
Thus fpoke the prudence and the fears of age.
Belov'd of Jove, Achilles! would'st thou know
Why angry Phoebus bends his fatal bow?
First give thy faith, and plight a prince's word
Of fure protection, by thy power and sword.
For I must speak what wisdom would conceal,
And truths, invidious to the great, reveal.
Bold is the task, when fubjects grown too wife,
Inftruct a monarch where his error lies;
And prayers, and tears, and brib.s, shall plead in For though we deem the short-liv'd fury past,
Till time thall rifle every youthful grace,
And age difmifs her from my cold embrace,
In daily labours of the loom employ'd,
Or doom' to deck the bed the once enjoy'd.
Hence then, to Argos fhall the maid retire,
Far from her native foil, and weeping fire.
The trembling priest along the shore return'd,
And in the anguish of a father mourn'd.
Difconfolate, not daring to complain,
Silent he wander'd by the founding main:
Till, fafe at diftance, to his God he prays,
The God who darts around the world his rays.
O Smintheus! fprung from fair Latona's line,
Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine,
Thou fource of light! whom Tenedos adores,
And whose bright prefence gilds thy Chryfa's fhores :
If e'er with wreaths I hung thy facred fane,
Or fed the flames with fat of oxen flain;
God of the filver bow! thy fhafts employ,
Avenge thy fervant, and the Greeks destroy.
Thus Chryfes pray'd: The favouring power at-
tends,
And from Olympus' lofty tops defcends.
Beat was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound;
Fierce as he mov'd, his filver fhafts refound;
Breathing revenge, a fudden night he spread,
And gloomy darkness roll'd about his head.
The fleet in view, he twang'd his deadly bow,
And hiffing fly the feather'd fates below.
On mules and dogs th' infection first began;
And laft, the vengeful arrows fix'd in man.
For nine long nights through all the dusky air
The pyres thick flaming fhot a difmal glare.
But ere the tenth revolving day was run,
Infpir'd by Juno, Thetis' god-like font.
Conven'd to council all the Grecian train :
For much the Goddess mourn'd her heroes flain.
Th' affembly feated, rifing o'er the rest,
Achilles thus the king of men addreft:
Why leave we not the fatal Trojan shore,
And measure back the feas we croft before?
'Tis fure, the Mighty will revenge at last.
To whom Pelides. From thy inmost foul
Speak what thou know'ft, and speak without con-
Ev'n by that God I swear, who rules the day,
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To whom thy hands the vows of Greece convey, Iio
And whofe bleft oracles thy lips declare ;
Long as Achilles breathes this vital air,
No daring Greek of all the numerous band
Againft his prieft fhall lift an impious hand:
Not ev'n the chief by whom our hosts are led,
The king of kings, fhall touch that facred head.
Encourag'd thus, the blameless man replies;
Nor vows unpaid, nor flighted facrifice,
But he, our chief, provok'd the raging peft,
Apollo's vengeance for his injur'd prieft,
Nor will the God's awaken'd fury ceafe,
But plagues fhall spread, and funeral fires increase,
Till the great king, without a ranfom paid,
To her own Chryfa fend the black-ey'd maid.
Perhaps, with added facrifice and prayer,
The priest may pardon, and the God may (pare.
The prophet fpoke; when with a gloomy frown
The monarch started from his fhining throne;
Black choler fill'd his breaft that boil'd with ire,
And from his eye-balls flash'd the living fire.
Augur accurft! denouncing mifchief ftill,
Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill!
To teach the Greeks to murmur at their Lord?
For this with falfehoods is my honour ftain'd,
Is heaven offended, and a priest profan'd;
Because my prize, my beauteous maid I hold,
And heavenly charms prefer to proffer'd gold? 140
A maid, unmatch'd in manners as in face,
Skill'd in each art, and crown'd with every grace.
Not half fo dear were Clytemnestra's chaims,
When firft her blooming beauties bleft my arms.
Yet if the Gods demand her, let her fail ;
Our cares are only for the public weal:
Is this the pay our blood and toils deferve Difgrac'd and injur'd by the man we serve? And dar it thou threat to fnatch my prize away, 150 Due to the deeds of many a dreadtul day?
Let me be deem'd the hateful cause of all,
And fuffer, rather than my people fall.
The prize, the beauteous prize, I will refign,
So dearly valued, and fo juftly mine.
But fince for common good I yield the fair,
My private lofs let grateful Greece repair;
Nor unrewarded let your prince complain,
That he alone has fought and bled in vain.
Infatiate king (Achilles thus replies)
Fond of the power, but fonder of the prize!
Would't thou the Greeks their lawful prey fhould
yield,
The due reward of many a well-fought field?
The fpoils of cities raz'd, and warriours flain,
We fhare with juftice, as with toil we gain :
But to refume whate'er thy avarice craves
(That trick of tyrants) may be borne by flaves.
Yet if our chief for plunder only fight,
The fpoils of Ilion fhall thy lofs requite,
Whene'er by Jove's decree our conquering powers 165
Shall humble to the duft her lofty towers.
Then thus the king. Shall I my prize refign
With tame content, and thou poffeft of thine?
Great as thou art, and like a God in fight,
Think not to rot me of a foldier's right.
At thy demand fhall I restore the maid?
First let the juft equivalent be paid;
Such as a king might afk; and let it be
A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
Or grant me this, or with a monarch's claim,
This hand fhall feize fome other captive dame ;
The mighty Ajax fhall his prize refign,
Ulyffes' fpoils, or ev'n thy own be mine.
The man who fuffers, loudly may complain;
And rage he may, but he fhall rage in vain.
But this when time requires-It now remains
We launch a bark to plow the watery plains,
And waft the facrifice to Chryfa's fhores,
With chofen pilots, and with labouring oars.
Soon fhall the fair the fable fhip afcend,
And fome deputed prince the charge attend:
This Creta's king, or Ajax fhall fulfill,
Or wife Ulyffes fee perform'd our will;
Or, if our royal pleasure shall ordain,
Achilles' felf conduct her o'er the main ;
Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in his rage,
The God propitiate, and the peft affuage.
A prize as small, O tyrant! match'd with thine, 215
As thy own actions if compar'd to mine.
Thine in each conquest is the wealthy prey,
Though mine the fweat and danger of the day.
Some trivial prefents to my hips I bear,
Or barren praises pay the wounds of war.
But know, proud monarch, I'm thy flave no more;
My fleet shall waft ne to Theffalia's there.
Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain,
What fpoils, what conquefts, fhall Atrides gain?
To this the king: Fly, mighty warriour! fly, 225
Thy and we need not, and thy threats defy.
There want not chiefs in fuch a cause to fight,
And Jove himself shall guard a monarch's right.
Of all the kings (the God's diftinguish'd care)
To power fuperior none fuch hatred bear:
Strife and debate thy reftlefs foul employ,
And wars and horrors are thy favage joy;
If thou haft ftrength, 'twas heaven that strength be
For know, vain man! thy valour is from God.
Hafte, launch thy veffels, fly with speed away, 235
Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway :
I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
Thy fhort-liv'd friendship, and thy groundless hate.
Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons; but here
'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear. 240
Know, if the God the beauteous dame demand,
My bark fhall waft her to her native land;
But then prepare, imperious prince! prepare,
Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair:
Ev'n in thy tent I'll feize the blooming prize,
Thy lov'd Brifeis with the radiant eyes,
Hence fhalt thou prove my might, and curfe the hour.
Thou ftood'st a rival of imperial power;
And hence to all our hoft it shall be known, That kings are fubjects to the Gods alone.
Achilles heard, with grief and rage oppreft, His heart fwell'd high, and labour'd in his breast. Distracting thoughts by turns his bofom rul'd, Now fir'd by wrath, and now by reafon cool'd: That prompts his hand to draw his deadly fword, 255 Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty lord :
At this Pelides, frowning ftern, reply'd : O tyrant, arm'd with infolence and pride! Inglorious flave to interest, ever join'd With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind! What generous Greek, obedient to thy word, Shall form an ambush, or fhall lift the fword? What caufe have I to war at thy decree ? The diftant Trojans never injur'd me: To Phthia's realms no hoftile troops they led, Safe in her vales my warlike courfers fed; Far hence remov'd, the hoarse-refounding main, And walls of rocks, fecure my native reign, Whofe fruitful foil luxuriant harvests grace, Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race. Hither we fail'd, a voluntary throng, Tavenge a private, not a public wrong: What elfe to Troy th' affembled nations draws, But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother's caufe? 210 VOL. VI.
(For both the princes claim'd her equal care);
Behind the ftood, and by the golden ha'r
Achilles feiz'd; to him alone confeft;
A fable cloud conceal'd her from the rest.
205 He fees, and fudden to the Godde's cries,
Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes.
Defcends Minerva in her guardian care,
A heavenly witnefs of the wrongs I bear
From Atreus' fon: then let thofe eyes that view
The daring crime, behold the vengeance too.
Forbear ! ( the progerty of Jove replies) To calm thy fury I forfake the skies: Let great Achilles, to the Gods refign'd, To reafon yield the empire o'er his mind. By awful Juno this command is given; The king and you are both the care of heaven. The torce of keen reproaches let him feel, But fhtah, obedient, thy revenging freel. For I pronounce (and truft a heavenly power) Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour, When the proud monarch fhall thy arms implore, And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store. Then let revenge no longer bear the sway, 285 Command thy paffions, and the Gods obey.
To her Pelides. With regardful ear Tis juft, O Goddefs! I thy dietates hear. Hard as it is, my vengeance I fupprefs: Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will blefs. 290 He faid, obfervant of the blue-ey'd maid; Then in the fheath return'd the thining blade. The Goddess fwift to high Olympus flies, And joins the facred fenate of the skies.
Two generations now had pafs'd away,
Wife by his rules, and happy by his fway ;
Two ages o'er his native realm he reign'd, 335
And now th' example of the third remain'd.
All view'd with awe the venerable man;
Who thus with mild benevolence began :
What shame, what woe is this to Greece! what joy
To Troy's proud monarch, and the friends of
Troy !
That adverfe Gods commit to ftern debate
The beft, the braveft of the Grecian ftate.
Young as you are, this youthful head restrain,
Nor think your Neftor's years and wifdom
A Godlike race of heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more these aged eyes shall view!
Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame,
Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathlefs name;
Thefeus, endued with more than mortal might,
Or Polyphemus, like the Gods in fight?
With thefe of old to toils of battle bred,
295 In early youth my hardy days I led:
Fir'd with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds,
And fmit with love of honourable deeds.
Strongest of men, thy pierc'd the mountain
boar,
Nor yet the rage his boiling breaft forfook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke. O mon.ter! mix'd of infolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer! When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare, Or nobly face the horrid front of war? 'Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try, Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die, So much 'tis fafer through the camp to go, And rob a fubject, than defpoila foe. Scourge of thy people, violent and bafe ! Sent by Jove's anger on a flavith race, Who, loft to fenfe of generous freedom paft, Are tam'd to wrongs, or this had been thy laft. Now by this facred fcepter hear me fwear, Which never more fall leaves or bloffoms bear, 310
Which fever'd from the trunk (as I from thee) On the bare mountains left its parent tree; This fceptre, form'd by temper'd steel to prove An enfign of the delegates of Jove,
From whom the power of laws and juftice fprings
(Tremendous oath! inviolate to kings): By this I fpear, when bleeding Greece again Shall call Achilles, the fhall call in vain. When, flufh'd with flaughter, Hector comes to spread
The purpled fhore with mountains of the dead,
Then fhalt thou mourn th' affront thy madness
Rang'd the wild defarts red with monsters
And from their hills the fhaggy Centaurs tore.
Yet thefe with foft, perfuafive arts I fway'd;
When veftor fpoke, they liften'd and obeyrd,
If in my youth, ev'n these esteem'd me wife; 360
Do you, young warriours, hear my age advise.
Atrides, feize not on the beauteous flave;
That prize the Greeks by common fuffrage gave:
Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride;
Let kings be juft, and fovereign power prefide.
363
Thee, the firft honours of the war adorn,
Like Gods in strength, and of a Goddess born;
Him, awful majefty exalts above
The powers of earth, and fcepter'd fons of Jove.
Let both unite, with well confenting mind, 370
So fhall authority with strength be join'd.
Leave me, O king! to claim Achilles' rage;
Rule thou thyfelf, as niore advanc'd in age.
For bid it Gods! Achilles fhould be loft,
The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host.
This faid, he ceas'd: the king of men replies:
Thy years are awful, and thy words are wife.
But that imperious, that unconquer'd foul,
No laws can limit, no refpect controul.
Before his pride muft his fuperiours fall,
His word the law, and he the lord of all ?
Him muft our hofts, our chiefs, ourselves obey?
What king can bear a rival in his fway?
Grant that the Gods his matchlefs force hath
given;
Has foul reproach a privilege from Heaven? 385
Here on the monarch's fpeech Achilles broke,
And furious, thus, and interrupting fpoke :
Tyrant, I well deferv'd thy galling chain,
To live thy flave, and ftill to serve in vain ;
For know, thy blood, when next thou dar'ft invade,
Shall stream in vengeance on my reeking blade. At this they ceas'd; the ftern debate expir'd: 400
The chiefs in fullen majefty retir'd.
Achilles with Patroclus took his way,
Where near his tents his hollow veffels lay.
Mean time Atrides launch'd with numerous oars
A well-rigg'd thip for Chryfa's facred fhores: 405
High on the deck was fair Chrifeïs plac'd,
And fage Ulyffes with the conduct grac'd ;
Safe in her fides the hecatomb they ftow'd,
Then, fwiftly failing, cut the liquid road.
The hoft to expiate, next the king prepares,
With pure luftrations, and with folemn prayers.
Wash'd by the briny wave, the pious train
Are cleans'd, and caft th' ablutions in the main.
Along the shore whole hecacombs were laid,
And bulls and goats to Phobus' altars paid,
The fable fumes in curling fpires arife,
And waft their grateful odours to the skies.
The army thus in facred rites engag'd,
Atrides still with deep refentment rag'd.
To wait his will, two facred heralds stood,
Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
Hafte to the fierce Achilles' tent (he cries)
Thence bear Brifeis as our royal prize:
Submit he muft; or, if they will not part,
Ourself in arms fhall tear her from his heart. 425
Th' unwilling heralds act their lord's com
mands;
I know your meffage; by constraint you came;
Not you, but your imperious lord I blame,
Patroclus hafte, the fair Brifeis bring;
Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
But witnefs, heralds, and proclaim my vow, 440
Witness to Gods above, and men below!
But first, and loudeft to your prince declare,
That lawless tyrant whofe commands you bear;
Unmov'd as death Achilles fhall remain,
Though proftrate Greece fhould bleed at ev'ry
vein:
The raging chief in frantic paffion loft,
Blind to himself, and ufelefe to his hoft,
Unfkill'd to judge the future by the past,
In blood and flaughter fhall repent at last.
Not fo his lofs the fierce Achilles bore;
But fad retiring to the founding fhore,
O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung,
That kindred deep from whence his mother
fprung:
There, bath'd in tears of anger and difdain,
Thus loud lamented to the stormy main :
O parent Goddefs! fince in early bloom
Thy fon must fall, by too fevere a doom;
Sure, to fo fhort a race of glory born,
Great Jove in Juftice fhould this span adorn :
Honour and fame at least the Thunderer ow'd,
And ill he pays the promise of a God;
If yon proud monarch thus thy fon defies,
Obfcures my glories, and refumes my prize.
Far from the deep receffes of the main,
Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign,
The Goddefs-mother heard. The waves divide;
479
And like a mift fhe rofe above the tide ;
Beheld him mourning on the naked fhores,
And thus the forrows of his foul explores.
Why grieves my fon? Thy anguish let me share,
Reveal the cause, and trust a parent's care. 475
He deeply fighing faid: To tell my woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know..
From Thèbè facred to Apollo's name,
(Aëtion's realm) our conquering army came,
With treasure loaded and triumphant fpoils; 480
Whofe juft divisions crown'd the foldier's toils;
But bright Chryfeis, heavenly prize! was led,
By vote felected, to the general's bed.
The priest of Phoebus fought by gifts to gain
His beauteous daughter from the victor's chain;
The fleet he reach'd, and lowly bending down,
Held forth the fceptre and the laurel crown,
Entreating all but chief implor'd for grace
The brother-kings of Atreus' royal race:
The generous Greeks their joint confent declare,
499
The priest to reverence, and release the fair;
Not fo Atrides: He, with wonted pride,
The fire infulted, and his gifts deny'd :
Th' infulted fire (his Cod's peculiar care)
To Phoebus pray'd, and Phœbus heard the
prayer:
A dreadful plague enfues; th' avenging darts 495
Inceffant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts.
A prophet then, infpir'd by Heaven arose,
And points the crime, and thence derives t
Myself the first th' affembled chiefs incline
T'avert the avengeance of the power divine;
Then rifing in his wrath, the monarch storm'd;
Incens'd he threaten'd, and his threats per-
form'd:
The fair Chryfeïs to her fire was fent,
With offer'd gifts to make the God relent; 505
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