Page images
PDF
EPUB

And round the camp, and round the Theban | Around the pile the wid'ning circle grows ;

walls,

Heaps roll'd on heaps, the mingled forest falls.

Of this the Spartan chief, bis native bands, With speed to rear a lofty pile, commands; Which for Hegialus, with grateful mind, Adrastus' valiant son, the chief design'd; Who to his aid, when ev'ry warrior fled, Repair'd, and for his rescue greatly bled: His native bands the hero thus addrest, While sighs incessant labor'd from his breast, "The chief of Argos, warriors! first demands Funereal honours from our grateful hands; For him this lofty structure is decreed, And ev'ry rite in order shall succeed : His dear remains in my pavilion rest; Nor can Adrastus at the rites assist ; Who to despairs and phrenzy has resign'd, By age and grief subdu'd, his generous mind : The other princes of the army wait The obsequies to grace, with mournful state."

He said; and to his tent the warriors led, Where stood already deck'd the fun'ral bed: With Syrian oil bedew'd, the corse they found Fresh from the bath, and breathing fragrance For Menelaus, with divided care, [round: Each rite domestic hast'ned to prepare. Twelve princes to the pile the corse sustain'd; The head on Agamemnon's hand reclin’d : With mournful pomp the slow procession mov'd; For all the hero honour'd and approv❜d.

First on the top the fun'ral bed they place; And next, the sad solemnity to grace, And gratify the manes of the slain, [plain. The blood of steeds and bullocks drench'd the The four fair steeds which drew the rapid car, That bore the hero through the ranks of war, Their lofty necks the pointed falchion tore, With force impe!l'd, and drew a stream of gore: Three groaning fell; but, fiercer from the stroke, The silver reins the fourth with fury broke, And fled around the field: his snowy chest, Was dash'd with streaming blood, and lofty crest. In circles still he wheel'd! at ev'ry round, Still nearer to the pile himself he found; Till drain'd of life, by blood alone supply'd, Just where he felt the blow, he sunk, and dy'd. By awe divine subdu'd, the warriors stand; And silent wonder fixes ev'ry band: Till thus Atrides: "Sure th' immortal gods, The glorious synod of the blest abodes, Approve our rites; the good their favour share, In death and life the objects of their care."

Atrides thus: and, further to augment
The mournful pomp, the martial goddess went
Through all the camp, in Merion's form ex-
press'd;

And thus aloud the public ear address'd :
"Warriors and friends! on yonder lofty pyre,
Hegialus expects the fun'ral fire:

Fo such high merit, public tears should flow;
And Grecce assembled pour a flood of woe.
Now let us all his obsequies attend ;

And, with the mournful rites, our sorrows blend.”
Proclaiming thus aloud the goddess went ;
The army heard; a deach forsakes his tent;
Her voice had touch'd their hearts; they mov'd

Nations and tribes, an undistinguish'd throng.

As, spreading, in some vale, a deluge flows,
By mountain torrents fed, which stretches wide,
And floats the level lands on ev'ry side.
Distinguish'd in the midst the princes stand,
With sceptres grac'd, the ensigns of command.
Atrides, with superior grief oppress'd,
Thus to the sire of gods his pray'r address'd,
"Dread sov'reign, hear! whose unresisted

sway

The fates of inen and mortal things obey:
From thee the virtue of the hero springs;
Thine is the glory and the pow'r of kings.
If e'er by thee, and virgin Pallas, led,
To noble deeds this gen'rous youth was bred:
If love to men, or piety, possest,

With highest purpose, his undaunted breast;
Command the winds in bolder gusts to rise,
And bear the flames, I kindle, to the skies."

The hero thus; and with the fun'ral brand
The structure touch'd; ascending from his hand,
Spreads the quick blaze: the ruler of the sky
Commands; at once the willing tempests fly:
Rushing in streams invisible, they came,
Drove the light smoke, and rais'd the sheeted
flame.

The favour of the gods the nations own,
And, with their joint applause, the hero crown.
From morn till noon the roaring flames aspire,
And fat of victims added feeds the fire;
Then fall their lofty spires, and, sinking low,
O'er the pale asies tremulously glow.
With wine, the smoke, and burning embers lay'd;
The bones they glean'd, and to a tomb convey'd
Under an oak, which, near the public way,
Invites the swains to shun the noontide ray.
Now twenty warriors of Atrides' train,
Loaded with treasure, brought a harness'd wain;
Vases and tripods in bright order plac'd,
And splendid arms with fair devices grac'd:
These for the games the Spartan chief decreed,
The fun'ral games in honour of the dead.
Amid the princes fist a polish'd yew,
Unbent upon the ground the hero threw,
Of work divine; which Cynthius claim❜d before,
And Chiron next upon the mountains bore;
His sire the third receiv'd it: now it lies,
For him who farthest shoots, the destin❜d prize.
"Heroes, approach!" Atrides thus aloud,
"Stand forth, distinguish'd from the circling
crowd,

Ye who, by skill or manly force, may claim
Your rivals to surpass and merit fane.
This bow, worth twenty oxen, is decreed
For him who farthest sends the winged reed:
This bowl, worth eight, shall be reserv'd to
grace

The man whose merit holds the second place.”
He spoke. His words the bold Ajaces fir'd;
Crete's valiant monarch to the prize aspir'd;
Teucer for shooting fam'd; and Merion strong,
Whose force enormous drag'd a bull along:
Prompt to contend, and rais'd with hope, they

stood;

Laertes' son the last forsook the crowd.
Tydides too had join'd them, and obtain'd
Whatever could by skill or force be gain'd;
But in his tent, indulging sad despair,
He sat, subdu'd by heart-consuming care.

Straight in a casque the equal lots were | The arrow sprung; but erring took its way,

thrown;

Each hero with his name had mark'd his own:
These, mix'd with care, the chief of Sparta drew;
Idmenëus's the first he knew:

Teucer, with hope inspir'd, the second claim'd:
The third Oileus, much for shooting fam'd;
Next claim'd the wearer of the seven-fold shield,
Though young in arms, distinguish'd in the field;
Ulysses! thine came next; and, last of all,
Bold Merion with a smile receiv'd his ball.

Press'd with incumbent force, the Cretan lord
Strain'd the stiff bow, and bent it to the cord;
Then, from the full-stor❜d quiver, chose with art,
Wing'd for th' aerial flight, a pointed dart.
Theseus commands the warriors to divide,
Who crowded thick and press'd on ev'ry side;
Straight they retire; as, at the word of Jove,
From day's bright face the scatt'ring clouds re-
move;

And through the host appear'd a spacious way,
Where woods and fields in distant prospect lay.
With force immense, the Cretan monarch drew,
Stretch'd the tough cord, and strain'd the cir-

cling yew;

From his firm gripe the starting arrow sprung,
The stiff bow crack'd, the twanging cordage sung.
Up the light air the hissing weapon flies,
Pierces the winds, and streams along the skies:
Far to the distant plain it swiftly drove ;
The host stood wond'ring as it rush'd above:
Descending there upon a mount it stood;
A depth of soil receiv'd the trembling wood.
Applause from all, tumultuous shouts declare,
By echoes wafted through the trembling air.
Such joy the hero feels, as praise inspires,
And to the circle of the kings retires.

The valiant Teucer next receiv'd the bow,
And to Apollo thus address'd a vow:
"Hear me, dread king! whose unresisted sway
Controls the Sun, and rules the course of day;
Great patron of the bow! this shaft impel;
And hecatombs my gratitude shall tell;
Soon as to Salamis our martial pow'rs
Return, victorious, from the Theban tow'rs."
He said, and bid the winged arrow fly;
It pierc'd the winds, and swept a length of sky;
In compass, like the colour'd arch, which shines
Exalted, as the setting Sun declines;

From north to south it marks th' ethereal space,
And woods and mountains fill its wide embrace :
Beyond the Cretan shaft, it reach'd the plain;
As far before, as now a shepherd swa'n,
Hurl'd from a sling, the sounding flint can throw,
From his young charge, to drive the deadly crow.
Oilean Ajax next the weapon claim'd,
For skill above the rest, and practice fam'd;
But Phoebus, chief and patron of the art,
Retarded in its fight the winged dart:
For, nor by pray'rs, nor holy vows, he strove,
Of grateful sacrifice, the god to move.
Downwards he turn'd it, where a cedar fair
I Had shot its spiring top aloft in air;
Caught in a bough the quiv'ring weapon stood,
Nor fore'd a passage through the closing wood.

Far to the left, where oozy marshes lay,
And groves of reeds; where slow Ismenus strays,
And winds, through thickets green, his wat'ry

Ajax the next appear'd upon the plain,
With strength untanght, and emulous in vain;
With sinewy arms the solid yew he bends;
Near and more near approach the doubling ends:

maze.

Abash'd the youth, with painful steps, retires;
And now Ulysses to the prize aspires.

In silence thus the prudent warrior pray'd,
And, in his heart, address'd the martial maid:
"Great queen of arts! on thee my hopes depend;
With favour, to thy suppliant's suit, attend!
By thee my infant arms were taught to throw
The dart with certain aim, and bend the bow:
Oft on my little hands, immortal maid!
To guide the shaft, thy mighty hands were laid:
Now, goddess, aid me, while I strive for fame;
Wing the swift weapon, and assert my claim."
He pray'd: the goddess, at his suit, descends;
And present from th' Olympian courts attends.
With force divine his manly limbs she strung.
The bow he strain'd: the starting arrow sung;
As when the sire of gods, with wrathful hand,
Drives the swift lightning and the forked brand,
To waste the labours of the careful swains,
Consume the mountain flocks,or scorch the plains;
With sudden glare appears the fiery ray;
No thought can trace it through th' ethereal way:
So swift thy winged shaft, Ulysses! flew,
Nor coul! the following eye its speed pursue.
The flight of Teucer's arrow far surpast,
Upon a rural hearth it pitch'd at last,
To Ceres built; where swains, in early spring,
With joy were wont their annual gifts to bring;
When first to view, above the furrow'd plain,
With pleasing verdure, rose the springing grain,
Through all the host applauding shouts resound;
The hills repeat them, and the woods around.

The bended bow bold Merion next assumes,
A shaft selects, and smooths its purple plumes:
He plac'd it on the string, and bending low,
With all his force collected, strain'd the bow.
Up the light air the starting arrow sprung;
The tough bow crack'd; the twanging cordage
sung.

Beyond the reach of sight the weapon drove,
And tow'r'd amid th' ethereal space above:
But as it rose, a heron cross'd before,
From inland marshes steering to the shore;
Under the wing it reach'd her with a wound;
Screaming she wheel'd, then tumbled to the
ground.

And thus the youth: "Illustrious chiefs! I claim
If not the prize, at least superior fame:
Ungovern'd strength alone the arrow sends ;
To hit the mark, the shooter's art commends.❤
In mirthful mood the hero thus address'd;
And all their favour and applause express'd.

"Ulysses! take the bow," Atrides cries,
"The silver bowl, brave Teucer! be thy prize.
In ev'ry art, my friends! you all excel;
And each deserves a prize for shooting well:
For though the first rewards the victors claim,
Glory ye merit all, and lasting fame."
He said; and pond'ring in his grateful mind,
Distinguish'd honors for the dead design'd.

"Warriors of Greece, and valiant aids from far,
Our firm associates in the works of war!
Here from a ruck the Theban stream descends,
[ And to a lake its silver current sends ;

[ocr errors]

Whose surface smooth, unruffled by the breeze,
The hills inverted show and downward trees:
Ye daring youths! whose manly limbs divide
The mounting surge, and brave the rushing tide;
All ye, whom hopes of victory inspire,
Stand forth distinguish'd; let the crowd retire.
This costly armour shall the youth obtain,
Who comes victorious from the wat❜ry plain;
That island compass'd, where the poplar grows,
And in the lake its wav'ring image shows,
Who measuring back the liquid space, before
His rivals, shall regain the flow'ry shore.
This golden bowl is fix'd the second prize,
Esteem'd alike for fashion and for size."

The hero thus: with thirst of glory fir'd,
Crete's valiant monarch to the prize aspir'd;
With Sparta's younger chief; Ulysses came;
And brave Clearchus emulous of fame,
A wealthy warrior from the Samian shore.
In cattle rich, and heaps of precious ore :
Distinguish'd in the midst the heroes stood,
Eager to plunge into the shining flood,

His brother's ardour purpos'd to restrain,
Atrides strove, and counsel'd thus, in vain :

64

Desist, my brother! shun th' unequal strife; For late you stood upon the verge of life: No mortal man his vigour can retain, When flowing wounds have empty'd ev'ry vein. If now you perish in the wat'ry way, Grief upon grief shall cloud this mournful day: Desist, respect my counsel, and be wise; Some other Spartan in your place will rise." To change his brother's purpose thus he try'd; Bet nothing mov'd, the gen'rous youth reply'd: "Brother! in vain you urge me to forbear, From love and fond affection prompt to fear; For firm, as e'er before, my limbs remain, To dash the fluid waves, or scour the plain."

He said, and went before. The heroes move To the dark covert of a neighb'ring grove; Which to the bank its shady walks extends, Where mixing with the lake a riv'let ends. Prompt to contend, their purple robes they loose, Their figur'd vests and gold embroider'd shoes; And through the grove descending to the strand, Along the flow'ry bank in order stand.

As when, in some fair temple's sacred shrine,
A statue stands, express'd by skill divine,
Apollo's or the herald-pow'rs, who brings
Jove's mighty mandates on his airy wings;'
The form majestic awes the bending crowd:
In port and stature such, the heroes stood.
Starting at once, with equal strokes,

sweep

they

The smooth expanse, and shoot into the deep;
The Cretan chief, exerting all his force,
His rivals far surpass'd, and led the course;
Bebind Atrides, emulous of fame;
Clearchus next; and last Ulysses came.
And now they measur'd back the wat'ry space,
And saw from far the limits of the race.
Ulysses then, with thirst of glory fir'd,
The Samian left, and to the prize aspir'd;
Who, emulous, and dreading to be last,
With equal speed, the Spartan hero pass'd.
Alarm'd, the Cretan monarch strove, with pain,
His doubtful hopes of conquest to maintain;
Exerting ev'ry nerve, his limbs he ply'd,
And wishing, from afar, the shore descry'd:

For near and nearer still Ulysses prest;
The waves he felt rebounding from his breast,
With equal zeal for victory they strove;
When, gliding sudden from the roufs of Jove,
Pallas approach'd; behind a cloud conceal'd,
Ulysses only saw her form reveal'd.
Majestic by the hero's side she stood;
Her shining sandals press'd the trembling flood.
She whisper'd soft, as when the western breeze
Stirs the thick reeds, or shakes the rustling trees:
"Still shall thy soul, with endless thirst of fame,
Aspire to victory, in ev'ry game.

The honours, which from bones and sinews ise,
Are lightly valu'd by the good and wise :
To envy still they rouse the human kind;
And oft, than courted, better far declin❜d.
To brave Idomeneus yield the race,
Contented to obtain the second place."

The goddess thus: while, stretching to the land,
With joy the Cretan chief approach'd the strand;
Ulysses next arriv'd; and, spent with toil,
The weary Samian grasp'd the welcome soil.
But far behind the Spartan warrior lay,
Fatigu'd, and fainting, in the wat'ry way.
Thrice struggling, from the lake, his head he
rear'd;

And thrice, imploring aid, his voice was heard.
The Cretan monarch hastes the youth to save,
And Ithacus again d.vides the wave;
With force renew'd their manly limbs they ply;
And from their breasts the whit'ning billows fly.
Full in the midst a rocky isle divides
The liquid space, and parts the silver tides;
Once cultivated, now with thickets green
O'erspread, two hillocks and a vale between.
Here dwelt an agedswain; his cottage stood
Under the cliffs, encompass'd by a wood.
From poverty secure, he heard afar,
In peace profound, the tumults of the war.
Mending a net before his rural gate,
From other toils repos'd, the peasant sat;
When first the voice of Menelaus came,
By ev'ning breezes wafted from the s ream.
Hast'ning, his skiff he loos'd, and spread the sail;
Some present god supply'd a prosp❜rous gale:
For, as the Spartan chief, with toil subdu'd,
Hopeless of life, was sinking in the flood,
The swain approach'd, and in his barge receiv'd
Him safe from danger imminent retriev'd.

Upon a willow's trunk Thersites sat,
Contempt in laughter fated to create,
Where, bending from a hollow bank, it hung,
And rooted to the mould'ring surface clung;
He saw Atrides safe! and thus aloud,
With leer malign, address'd the list'ning crowd.
"Here on the flow'ry turf a hearth shall stand;
A hecatomb the fav'ring gods demand,
Who sav'd Atrides in this dire debate,
And snatch'd the hero from the jaws of fate :
Without his aid we all might quit the field;
Ulysses, Ajax, and Tydides, yield:
His mighty arm alone the host defends,
But dire disaster still the chief attends:
Last Sun beheld him vanquish'd on the plain;
Then warriors sav'd him, now a shepherd swain,
Defend him still from persecuting fate!
Protect the hero who protects the state;
In martial conflicts watch with prudent fear,
And, when he swims, let help be always near!"

[blocks in formation]

With aiming thus oblique a venom'd dart.
But joy'd not long; for soon the faithless wood,
Strain'd from the root, resign'd him to the flood.
Plunging and sputt'ring as his arms he spread,
A load of soil came thund'ring on his head,
Slipt from the bank: along the winding shore,
With laughter loud he heard the echoes roar,
When from the lake his crooked form he rear'd:
With horrour pale, with bloating clay besmear'd:
Then clamb'ring by the trunk, in sad dismay,
Which half immers'd with all its branches lay,
Confounded, to the tents he sculk'd along,
Amid the shouts and insults of the throng.

Now cloth'd in public view the heroes stand,
With sceptres grac'd, the ensigns of command.
The Cretan monarch, as his prize, assumes
The polish'd helmet, crown'd with waving plumes,
The silver mail, the buckler's weighty round,
Th' embroider'd belt, with golden buckles bound.
The second prize Laertes' son receiv'd,
With less applause from multitudes deceiv'd;
The first he could have purchas'd; but declin'd
And yielded, to the martial maid resign'd.

Thus they. The Thebans, near the eastern
Around their pyres in silent sorrow wait: [gate:
Hopeless and sad they mourn'd their heroes slain,
The best and bravest on their native plain.
The king himself, in deeper sorrow, mourn'd;
With rage and mingled grief his bosom burn'd.
Like the grim lion, when his offspring slain
He sees, and round him drawn the hunter's train;
Couch'd in the shade with fell intent he lies,
And glares upon the foes with burning eyes:
Such Creon seem'd: hot indignation drain'd
Grief's wat'ry sources, and their flow restrain'd.
Upon a turret o'er the gate he stood,
And saw the Argives, like a shady wood,
Extended wide; and dreading fraud design'd,
Still to the plain his watchful eyes confin'd,
Suspicious from his hatred, and the pow'r
Of restless passions, which his heart devour:
And when at ev'n's approach the host retir'd,
And from the labours of the day respir'd,
Within the walls he drew his martial pow'rs,
And kept with strictest watch the gates and tow'rs.

Soon as the night possess'd th' ethereal plain,
And o'er the nations stretch'd her silent reign,
The guards were plac'd, and to the gentle sway
Of sleep subdu'd, the weary warriors lay.
Tydides only wak'd, by anxious care
Distracted, still he mourn'd his absent fair,
Deeming her lost; his slighted counsel mov'd
Lasting resentment, and the truce approv'd:
Contending passions shook his mighty frame;
As warring winds impel the ocean's stream,
When south and east with mingled rage contend,
And in a tempest on the deep descend:
Now, stretch'd upon the couch, supine he lay;
Then, rising anxious, wish'd the morning ray.
Impatient thus, at last, his turbid mind,
By various counsels variously inclin'd,
The chief address'd: "Or shall I now recall
Th' Etolian warriors from the Theban wall;
Obey the warning by a goddess giv'n,
Nor slight her counsel dictated from Heav'n?

Or shall I try, by one deciding blow,
The war at once to end, and crush the foe?
This pleases most; nor shall the voice of fame
The daring deed, in after ages, blame.
No truce I swore, but shun'd it, and remov'd,
Alone dissenting while the rest approv'd.
Soon as the morn, with early light reveal'd,
Has call'd the Theban warriors to the field;
Against the town I'll lead my martial pow'rs,
And fire with flaming brands her hated tow'rs:
The bane of Greece, wheuce dire debate arose
To bid the peaceful nations first be foes;
Where Tydeus fell, and many heroes more,
Banish'd untimely to the Stygian shore.
The public voice of Greece for vengeance calls;
And shall applaud the stroke by which she falls."
He purpos'd: but the gods, who honour right,
Deny'd to treason what is due to might.

When from the east appear'd the morning fair,
The Theban warriors to the woods repair,
Fearless, unarin'd; with many a harness'd wain,
The woody heights were crowded and the plain.
Tydides saw; and, issuing from his tent,
In arms compleat, to call his warriors, went.
Their leader's martial voice the soldiers heard
Each in his tent, and at the call appear'd
In shining arms. Deiphobus began,
For virtue fam'd, a venerable man.
Him Tydeuslov'd; and in his faithful hand
Had plac'd the sceptre of supreme command,
To rule the state; when, from his native tow'rs,
To Thebes the hero led his martial pow'rs;
His son, an infant, to his care resign'd,
With sage advice to form his tender mind.
The hero thus: "Illustrious chief! declare
What you intend, and whither point the war.
The truce cominenc'd, you cannot, and be just,
The Thebans now assault, who freely trust
To public faith engag'd: unarm'd they go
Far through the woods and plains, nor fear a
foe."

His leader's purpose thus the warrior try'd;
And, inly vex'd, Tydides thus reply'd:
"Father! thy words from ignorance proceed;
The truce I swore not, nor approv'd the deed.
The rest are hound, and therefore must remain
Ling'ring inactive on this hostile plain :
The works of war abandon'd, let them shed
Their unavailing sorrows o'er the dead:
Or aim the dart, or hurl the disk in air;
Some paltry presents shall the victors share.
Warriors we came, in nobler strife to dare;
To fight and conquer in the lists of war;
To conquer Thebes: and Jove himself ordains,
With wreaths of triumph, to reward our pains.
Wide to receive us stand the Theban gates;
A spacious entry, open'd by the fates,
To take destruction in; their turrets stand
Defenceless, and expect the flaming brand.
Now let us snatch th' occasion while we may,
Years waste in vain and perish by delay,
That, Thebes o'erthrown, our tedious toils may

cease,

And we behold our native walls in peace."

Tydides thus: the ancient warrior burns With indignation just, and thus returns: "O son! unworthy of th' illustrious line From which you spring: your sire's reproach and mine!

Did I e'er teach you, justice to disclaim;
And steal, by treachery, dishonest fame ?
The truce subsists with all the rest; are we
Alone excepted, unengag'd and free?
Why, warriors! du not then these hostile tow'rs,
Against us, send at once their martial pow'rs?
And are we safe, but that the treaty stands,
And from unequal force protects our bands?
In this our foes confide; the dead they burn,
And mix with tears their ashes in the urn.
Their tow'rs defenceless, and their gates unbarr'd,
Shall we with wrongs their confidence reward?
No; though each warrior of this num'rous
band

Should yield to execute what you command;
Yet would not I, obedient to thy will,
Blot my long labours with a deed so ill.
Whatever hard or dang'rous you propose,
Though old and weak, I shun not, nor oppose:
But what the gods command us to forbear,
The prudent will avoid, the bravest fear."
He said; and to the ground his buckler flung;
On the hard soil the brazen orbit rung:
The rest, approving, dropt upon the field
His pond'rous javʼlin, each, and shining shield.
The warlike son of Tydens straight resign'd,
To dire disorder, all his mighty mind,
And sudden wrath; as when the troubled air,
From kindled lightning, shines with fiery glare:
With fury so inflam'd, the hero burn'd,
And frowning to Deiphobus return'd:

[aim,

"I know thee, wretch! and mark thy constant To teach the host their leader thus to blame. Long have I borne your pride; your rev'rend [rage: A guardian's name, suppress'd my kindling But to protect your insolence, no more Shall these avail, and skreen it as before."

.

age,

He said; and more his fury to provoke,
Replying thus, the aged warrior spoke :
"Vain youth unmov'd thy angry threats
hear;

When tyrants threaten, slaves alone should fear:
To me is ev'ry servile part unknown,
To glory in a smile, or fear a frown.
Your mighty sire I knew by council rul'd;
His fiercest transports sober reason cool'd.
But wild, and lawless, like the stormy wind,
The sport of passion, impotent, and blind,
The desp'rate paths of folly you pursue,
And scorn instruction with a lofty brow:
Yet know, proud prince! my purpose I retain,
And see thy threat'ning eye-balls roll in vain :
Never, obsequious to thy mad command,
Against the foe I'll lift a hostile hand;
Till, righteously fulfill'd, the truce expire
Which Heav'n has witness'd and the sacred fire."

He said; and, by his sharp reproaches stung,
With sudden hand, his lance the hero flung:
Too sure the aim; his faithful friend it found,
And open'd in his side a deadly wound:
Stagg'ring he fell; and, on the verge of death,
In words like these resign'd his parting breath:
"O Diomed, my son! for thee I fear:
Sure Heav'n is angry, and its vengeance near:
For whom the gods distinguish by their hate,
Themselves are made the ministers of fate;
Far from their side, the destin'd victims drive
Their friends intent to succour and retrieve,

Ere yet their vengeance falls, the pow'rs invoke,
While uninflicted hangs the fatal stroke:
And rule the transports of your wrath, lest fear
Make sound advice a stranger to your ear."
Speaking he dy'd; his gen'rous spirit fled
To mix with heroes in th' Elysian shade.

Amaz'd, at first, th' Etolian warriors stood; No voice, no action, through the wand'ring crow'd;

Silent they stood, like rows of forest trees,
When Jove's dread thunder quells the summer
But soon on ev'ry side a tumult rose, [breeze a
Loud as the ocean when a tempest blows;
Disorder wild the mingling ranks confounds,
The voice of sorrow mix'd with angry sounds.
On ev'ry side against the chief appears
A brazen bulwark rais'd of shields, and spears,
Fast closing round. But from his thigh he drew
His shining blade, and on the phalanx flew ;
With gesture fierce the threat'ning steel he
wav'd;

But check❜d its fury, and the people sav'd:
As the good shepherd spares his tender flock,
And lightens, when he strikes, the falling crook,
The crowd dividing shunn'd the hero's ire;
As from a lion's rage the swains retire,
When dreadful o'er the mangled prey he stands,
By brandish'd darts unaw'd and flaming brands.
And now the flame of sudden rage supprest,
Remorse and sorrow stung the hero's breast.
Distracted through the scatt'ring crowd he went,
And sought the dark recesses of his tent ;
He enter'd but the menial servants, bred
To wait his coming, straight with horrour fled.
Against the ground he dash'd his bloody dart;
And utter'd thus the swellings of his heart:

[ocr errors]

Why fly my warriors? why the menial train, Who joy'd before to meet me from the plain, Why shun they now their lord's approach; nor bring,

To wash my bloody hands, the cleansing spring
Too well, alas! my fatal rage they know,
To them more dreadful now than to the foe;
No enemy, alas! this spear has stain'd;
With hostile gore in glorious battle drain'd:
My guardian's blood it shows, whose hoary hairs
Still watch'd my welfare with a father's cares.
Thou pow'r supreme! whose unresisted sway
The fates of men and mortal things obey!
If wise and good, why did thy hand impart
So fierce an impulse to this bounding heart?
By fury rul'd and impotent of mind,

No awe restrains me, and no tie can bind:
Hence, by the madness of my rage o’erthrown
My father's friend lies murder'd, and my own."
He said; and, yielding to his fierce despair,
With both his hands he rent his rooted hair;
And where his locks in shining ringlets grew,
A load of ashes from the hearth he threw,
Rolling in dust: but now around the slain
His warriors stood assembled on the plain;
For total insurrection ripe they stood;
Their angry murmurs rose to tumult loud.

Ulysses soon the dire disorder beard;
And present to explore the cause appear❜d :
The hero came, and, 'midst the warriors found
Deiphobusextended on the ground.

A flood of sorrow started to his eyes,
But soon he check'd each symptom of surprise

« EelmineJätka »