Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,
To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,
Against his country's foes the war to wage,
And rise the Hector of the future age!
So when triumphant from successful toils
Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils,
Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim,
And say, This chief transcends his father's fame:
While pleased, amidst the general shouts of Troy
His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy.
He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms,
Restored the pleasing burden to her arms;
Soft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid,
Hush'd to repose, and with a smile survey'd.
The troubled pleasure soon chastised by fear,
She mingled with the smile a tender tear.
The soften'd chief with kind compassion view'd
And dried the falling drops, and thus pursued;
Andromache! my soul's far better part!
Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart?
No hostile hand can antedate my doom.
Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb.
Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth;
And such the hard condition of our birth,
No force can then resist, no flight can save;
All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.
No more-but hasten to thy tasks at home,
There guide the spindle, and direct the loom :
Me glory summons to the martial scene,
The field of combat is the sphere for men ;
Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim,
The first in danger, as the first in fame.
Thus having said, the glorious chief resumes His towery helmet black with shading plumes. His princess parts with a prophetic sigh Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye, That stream'd at every look: then moving slow, Sought her own palace, and indulged her woe. There, while her tears deplored the godlike man, Through all her train the soft infection ran, The pious maids their mingled sorrows shed, And mourn the living Hector, as the dead.
But now, no longer deaf to honour's call,
Olympus, joins her near the Scaan gate; they agree to put off the general engagement for that day, and incite Hector to challenge the Grecks to a single combat. Nine of the princes accepting the challenge, the lot is cast, and falls upon Ajux. These heroes, after several attacks, are parted by the night. The Trojans calling a council, Antenor proposes the delivery of Helen to the Greeks, to which Paris will not consent, but offers to restore them her riches. Priam sends a herald to make this offer, and to demand a truce for burning the dead, the last of which is only agreed to by AgaWhen the funerals are performed, the Greeks, pursuant to the advice of Nestor, erect a fortification to protect their fleet and camp, flanked with towers, and defended by a ditch and palisades. Neptune testifies his jealousy at this work, but is pacified by a promise from Jupiter. Both armies pass the night in feasting, but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans with thunder and other signs of his wrath. The three-and-twentieth day ends with the duel of Hector and Ajax: the next day the truce is agreed another is taken up in the funeral rites of the slain; and one more in building the fortifica tion before the ships. So that somewhat above three days is employed in this book The scene lies wholly in the field.
640 So spoke the guardiar of the Trojan state.
Then rush'd impetuous through the Scaan gate.
Him Paris follow'd to the dire alarms;
Both breathing slaughter, both resolved in arms.
As when to sailors labouring through the main,
That long had heaved the weary oar in vain,
Jove bids at length the expected gales arise;
The gales blow grateful, and the vessel flies.
So welcome these to Troy's desiring train;
The bands are cheer'd, the war awakes again
Bold Paris first the work of death begun
On great Menestheus, Areithous' son:
Sprung from the fair Philomeda's embrace
The pleasing Arné was his native place.
Then sunk Eioneus to the shades below:
Beneath his steely casque he felt the blow,
Full on his neck, from Hector's weighty hand;
And roll'd, with limbs relax'd, along the land.
By Glaucus' spear the bold Iphinous bleeds,
Fix'd in the shoulder as he mounts his steeds;
Head long he tumbles: his slack nerves unbound,
Drop the cold useless members on the ground.
When now Minerva saw her Argives slain,
From vast Olympus to the gleaming plain
Fierce she descends: Apollo mark'd her flight,
665 Nor shot less swift from Ilion's towery height:
Radiant they met beneath the beechen shade;
When thus Apollo to the blue-eyed maid:
What cause, O daughter of almighty Jove!
Thus wings thy progress from the realms above?
Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy way,
To give to Greece the long-divided day?
Too much has Troy already felt thy hate,
Now breathe thy rage, and hush the stern debate:
This day, the business of the field suspend;
Forth issues Paris from the palace wall.
In brazen arms that cast a gleamy ray,
Swift through the town the warrior bends his way.
The wanton courser thus, with reins unbound,
Breaks from his stall, and beats the trembling ground;
Pamper'd and proud, he seeks the wonted tides,
And laves, in height of blood, his shining sides;
His head now freed, he tosses to the skies;
His mane dishevell'd o'er his shoulders flies.
He snuffs the females in the distant plain,
And springs, exulting, to his fields again.
With equal triumph, sprightly, bold, and gay,
In arms refulgent as the god of day.
The son of Priam, glorying in his might,
Rush'd forth with Hector to the fields of fight.
And now the warriors passing on the way,
The graceful Paris first excused his stay.
To whom the noble Hector thus replied:
O chief! in blood, and now in arms, allied
Thy power in war with justice none contest:
Known is thy courage, and thy strength confess'd
What pity sloth should seize a soul so brave,
Or godlike Paris live a woman's slave!
My heart weeps blood at what the Trojans say,
And hopes thy deeds shall wipe the stain away.
Haste then, in all their glorious labours share
For much they suffer, for thy sake, in war.
These ills shall cease, whene'er by Jove's decree
We crown the bowl to Heaven and Liberty;
While the proud foe his frustrate triumphs mourns,
And Greece indignant through her seas returns.
The single Combat of Hector ana Ajax. The battle renewing with double ardour upon the return of Hector, Minerva is under apprehensions for the Greeks. Apollo secing her descend from
O son of Priam! let thy faithful ear
Receive my words; thy friend and brother hear.
Go forth persuasive, and awhile engage
The warring nations to suspend their rage:
Then dare the boldest of the hostile train
To mortal combat on the listed plain.
For not this day shall end thy glorious date:
The gods have spoke it, and their voice is fate.
He said the warrior heard the word with joy;
Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy,
Held by the midst athwart. On either hand
The squadrons part; the expecting Trojans stand:
Great Agamemnon bids the Greeks forbear;
They breathe, and hush the tumult of the war.
The Athenian maid, and glorious god of day,
With silent joy the settling hosts survey:
In form of vultures, on the beech's height
They sit conceal'd, and wait the future fight.
The thronging troops obscure the dusky fields,
Horrid with bristling spears, and gleaming shields.
As when a general darkness veils the main
Soft Zephyr curling the wide watry plain),
The waves scarce heave, the face of ocean sleeps
And a still horror saddens all the deeps:
Thus in thick orders settling wide around,
At length composed they sit, and shade the ground.
Great Hector first amidst both armies broke
The solemn silence, and their powers bespoke :
Hear, all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian bands,
Oh Peleus, old in arms, in wisdom old!
60 Once with what joy the generous prince would hear
Of every chief who fought this glorious war;
Participate their fame, and pleased inquire
Each name, each action, and each hero's sire!
Gods should he see our warriors trembling stand
65 And trembling all before one hostile hand;
How would he lift his aged arms on high,
Lament inglorious Greece, and beg to die!
Oh! would to all the immortal powers above,
Minerva, Phoebus, and almighty Jove!
70 Years might again roll back, my youth renew,
And give this arm the spring which once it knew
When, fierce in war, where Jardan's waters fall
I led my troops to Phea's trembling wall,
And with the Arcadian spears my prowess tried.
75 Where Celadon rolls down his rapid tide.
There Ereuthalion braved us in the field,
Proud, Areïthous' dreadful arms to wield;
Great Areïthous known from shore to shore
By the huge knotted iron mace he bore;
No lance he shook, nor bent the twanging bow,
But broke, with this, the battle of the foe.
Him not by manly force Lycurgus slew,
Whose guileful javelin from the thicket flew!
Deep in a winding way his breast assail'd,
What my soul prompts, and what some god commands:
Great Jove, averse our warfare to compose,
O'erwhelms the nations with new toils and woes,
War with a fiercer tide once more returns,
Till Ilion falls, or till yon navy burns.
You then, O princes of the Greeks! appear;
Tis Hector speaks, and calls the gods to hear:
From all your troops select the boldest knight,
And him, the boldest, Hector dares to fight.
Here, if I fall, by chance of battle slain,
Be his my spoil, and his these arms remain;
But let my body, to my friends return'd,
By Trojan hands and Trojan flames be burn'd.
And if Apollo, in whose aid I trust,
Shall stretch your daring champion in the dust:
If mine the glory to despoil the foe;
On Phoebus' temple I'll his arms bestow:
The breathless carcass to your navy sent,
Greece on the shore shall raise a monument;
Which when some future mariner surveys,
Wash'd by broad Hellespont's resounding seas,
Thus shall he say: A valiant Greek lies there,
By Hector slain, the mighty man of war.
The stone shall tell your vanquish'd hero's name
And distant ages learn the victor's fame.
This fierce defiance Greece astonish'd heard
Blush'd to refuse, and to accept it fear'd.
Stern Menelaüs first the silence broke,
And, inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke.
Women of Greece! oh scandal of your race,
Whose coward souls your manly form disgrace,
How great the shame, when every age shall know
That not a Grecian met this noble foe!
Go then, resolve to earth, from whence ye grew,
A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew!
Be what ye seem, unanimated clay!
Myself will dare the danger of the day.
Tis man's bold task the generous strife to try,
But in the hands of God is victory.
These words scarce spoke, with generous
press'd,
His manly limbs in azure arms he dress'd.
'That day, Atrides! a superior hand
Had stretch'd thee breathless on the hostile strana.
But all at once, thy fury to compose,
85 Nor aught the warrior's thundering mace avail??
Supine he fell: those arms which Mars before
Had given the vanquish'd, now the victor bore:
But when old age had dimm'd Lycurgus eyes,
To Ereuthalion he consign'd the prize.
90 Furious with this he crush'd our level'd bands,
And dared the trial of the strongest hands;
Nor could the strongest hands his fury stay;
All saw, and fear'd, his huge tempestuous sway:
Till I, the youngest of the host, appear'd,
95 And, youngest, met whom all our army fear'd.
I fought the chief: my arms Minerva crown'd:
Prone fell the giant o'er a length of ground.
What then he was, Oh were your Nestor now!
Not Hector's self should want an equal foe.
100 But, warriors, you, that youthful vigour boast,
The flowers of Greece, the examples of our host,
Sprung from such fathers, who such numbers sway
Can you stand trembling, and desert the day?
His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame;
105 And nine, the noblest of the Grecian name,
Up-started fierce but far before the rest
The king of men advanced his dauntless breast:
Then bold Tydides, great in arms, appear'd:
And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear'd:
110 Oileus follow'd; Idomen was there
And Merion, dreadful as the god of war:
With these Eurypylus and Thoas stand,
And wise Ulysses closed the daring band.
All these, alike inspired with noble rage,
115 Demand the fight. To whom the Pylian sage:
Let thirst of glory your brave souls divide;
What chief shall combat let the lots decide.
Whom heaven shall choose, be his the chance to raise
His country's fame, his own immortal praise.
The lots produced, each hero signs his own;
Then in the general's helm the fate are thrown.,
The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands,
And vows like these ascend from all the bands:
Grant, thou Almighty! in whose hand is fate,
A worthy champion for the Grecian state.
125 This task let Ajax or Tydides prove,
Or he, the king of kings, beloved by Jove!
Old Nestor shook the casque. By heaven inspired,
Leap'd forth the lot, of every Greek desired,
This from the right to left the herald bears,
130 Held out in order to the Grecian peers;
Each to his rival yields the mark unknown.
Till godlike Ajax finds the lot his own;
Surveys the inscription with rejoicing eyes,
Then casts before him, and with transport cries:
Warriors; I claim the lot, and arm with joy;
Be mine the conquest of this chief of Troy.
Now, while my brightest arms my limbs invest,
To Saturn's son be all your vows address'd:
But pray in secret, lest the foes should hear,
And deem your prayers the mean effect of fear.
Said I in secret? No, your vows declare,
In such a voice as fills the earth and air.
Lives there a chief whom Ajax ought to dread,
Ajax, in all the toils of battle bred?
From warlike Salamis I drew my birth,
And, born to combats, fear no force on earth.
He said. The troops with elevated eyes
Implore the god whose thunder rends the skies:
What tears shall down thy silver beard be roll'd,
The kings of Greece, an awful band, arose :
E'en he their chief, great Agamemnon, press'd
Thy daring hand, and this advice address'd:
Whither, O Menelaus! wouldst thou run,
And tempt a fate which prudence bids thee shun?
Grieved though thou art, forbear the rash design;
Great Hector's arm is mightier far than thine.
E'en fierce Achilles learn'd its force to fear,
And trembling met this dreadful son of war.
Sit thou secure amidst thy social band;
Greece in our cause shall arm some powerful hand.
The mightiest warrior of the Achaian name,
Though bold and burning with desire of fame,
Content the doubtful honour might forego,
So great the danger, and so brave the foe.
O father of mankind, superior lord!
On lofty Ida's holy hill adored:
Who in the highest heaven hast fix'd thy throne
Supreme of gods! unbounded and alone:
Grant thou, that Telamon may bear away
The praise and conquest of this doubtful day;
Or if illustrious Hector be thy care,
That both may claim it, and that both may share.
Now Ajax braced his dazzling armour on;
Sheath'd in bright steel the giant-warrior shone;
He moves to combat with majestic pace;
So stalks in arms the grizly god of Thrace,
When Jove to punish faithless men prepares,
And gives whole nations to the waste of wars.
Thus march'd the chief, tremendous as a god:
Grimly he smiled; earth trembled as he strode:
His massy javelin quivering in his hand,
He stood, the bulwark of the Grecian band.
Through every Argive heart new transport ran;
All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man:
E'en Hector paused; and, with new doubts oppress'd
Felt his great heart suspended in his breast:
"Twas vain to seek retreat, and vain to fear:
Himself had challenged, and the foe drew near.
Stern Telamon behind his ample shield,
As from a brazen tower, o'erlook'd the field:
Huge was its orb, with seven thick folds o'ercast,
Of tough bull-hides; of solid brass the last;
(The works of Tychius, who in Hyle dwell'd,
And in all arts of armoury excell'd).
This Ajax bore before his manly breast,
And threatening, thus his adverse chief address'd:
Hector! approach my arm, and singly know
What strength thou hast, and what the Grecian foe.
Achilles shuns the fight; yet some there are,
Not void of soul, and not unskill'd in war:
Let him, unactive on the sea-beat shore,
Indulge his wrath, and aid our arms no more;
Whole troops of heroes Greece has yet to boast,
And sends thee one, a sample of her host.
Such as I am, I come to prove thy might;
No more be sudden, and begin the fight.
O son of Telamon, thy country's pride!
To Ajax thus the Trojan prince replied)
Me, as a boy or woman, wouldst thou fright,
New to the field, and trembling at the fight:
Thou meet'st a chief deserving of thy arms,
To combat born, and bred amidst alarms:
I know to shift my ground, remount the car,
Turn, charge, and answer every call of war;
To right, to left, the dextrous lance I wield,
And bear thick battle on my sounding shield.
But open be our fight, and bold each blow;
I steal no conquest from a noble foe.
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 pro re,
Both dear to men, and both beloved of Jove.
To either host your matchless worth is known,
Each sounds your praise, and war is all your own.
But now the night extends her awful shade;
250 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 provoked our chiefs to fight,
Let him demand the sanction of the night;
255 If first he ask it, I content obey,
And cease the strife when Hector shews the way.
O 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,
265 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.
270 But let us, on this memorable day,
Exchange some gift; that Greece and Troy may say,
No 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 graced,
The baldric studded, and the sheath enchased,
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:
Escaped 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,
285 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.
290 The victim falls; they strip the smoking hide,
The beast they quarter, and the joints divide;
Then spread the tables, the repast prepare,
Each takes his seat, and each receives his share
The king himself (an honorary sign)
He said, and rising, high above the field
Whirl'd the long lance against the sevenfold shield.
Full on the brass descending from above
Through six bull-hides the furious weapon drove,
Till in the seventh it fix'd. Then Ajax threw;
Through Hector's shield the forceful javelin flew,
His corselet enters, and his garment rends,
The sage whose counsels long had sway'd the rest, 390
In words like these his prudent thought express'd:
How dear, O kings! this fatal day has cost,
What Greeks are perish'd! what a people lost!
And glancing downwards, near his flank descends.
The wary Trojan shrinks, and, bending low
Beneath his buckler, disappoints the blow.
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Or foaming boars, the terror of the wood,
At Ajax, Hector his long lance extends;
The blunted point against the buckler bends:
But Ajax, watchful as his foe drew near,
Drove through the Trojan targe the knotty spear:
It reach'd his neck, with matchless strength impell'd;
Spouts the black gore, and dims his shining shield.
Yet ceased not Hector thus; but, stooping down
In his strong hand up-heaved a flinty stone,
Black, craggy, vast: to this his force he bends;
Full on the brazen boss the stone descends;
The hollow brass resounded with the shock.
Then Ajax seized the fragment of a rock,
Applied each nerve, and swinging round on high,
With force tempestuous let the ruin fly:
The nuge stone thundering through his buckler broke,
His slacken'd knees received the numbing stroke,
Great Hector falls extended on the field,"
His bulk supporting on the shatter'd shield.
Not wanted heavenly aid: Apollo's might
Confirm'd his sinews, and restored 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;
What tides of blood have drench'd Scamander'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 blazed
High o'er them all a general tomb be raised;
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.
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 sat. To whom replied
The graceful husband of the Spartan bride':
Cold counsels, Trojan, may become thy years
But sound ungrateful in a warrior's ears:
Old man, if void of fallacy or art
Thy words express the purpose of thy 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 paused, and these pacific words ensue :
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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, 445 Wide as the morn her golden beam extends; While old Laomedon's divine abodes, Those radiant structures raised by labouring gods, Shall, razed and lost, in long oblivion sleep. Thus spoke the hoary monarch of the deep.
The 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.
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 restores the cheerful light: Then shall our herald, to the Atrides sent, Before their ships proclaim my son's intent. Next let a truce be ask'd, that Troy may bur Her slaughter'd heroes, and their bones inurn; That done, once more the fate of war be tried, 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 waked the day, To the black ships Idæus bent his way; There, to the son of Mars, in council found, He raised 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. Pleased may he 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 injured 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 tried, 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 e'en the Spartan dame :
Let conquest make them ours: fate shakes their wall
And Troy already totters to her fall.
The 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' corps; I war not with the dead:
Go search your slaughter'd chiefs on yonder plain,
And gratify the manes of the slain.
Thus they in heaven: while o'er the Grecian train, 465 The rolling sun descending to the main Beheld the finish'd work. Their bulls they slew: Black from the tents the savoury vapours flew. And now the fleet, arrived from Lemnos' strands, With Bacchus' blessings cheer'd the generous bands.
470 Of fragrant wines 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 purchased at their proper cost,
And well the plenteous freight supplied 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; 570
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 horror seized on all,
While the deep thunder shook the 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.
To shed his sacred light on earth again,
Arose the golden chariot of the day,
And tipp'd the mountains with a purple ray.
In mingled throngs the Greek and Trojan train
Through heaps of carnage search'd the mournful plain.
Scarce could the friend his slaughter'd friend explore,
With dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with gore.
505
The wounds they wash'd, their pious tears they shed
And, laid along their cars, deplored the dead.
Sage Priam check'd their grief: with silent haste
The bodies decent on their piles were placed :
With melting hearts the cold remains they burn'd; 510
And sadly slow to sacred Troy return'd.
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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 councils. The armies join battle: Jupiter on Mount Ides 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 vain. The acts of Teucer, who is at length wounded by Hector, and carried off. Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians; but are restrained by Iris, sent from Ju
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-shore.
piter. The night puts an end to the battle. Hector | And now with shouts the shocking armies closed, continues in the field (the Greeks being driven to To lances lances, shields to shields opposed; their fortification before the ships), and gives orders Host against host with shadowy legions drew, to keep the watch all night in the camp, to prevent The sounding darts in iron tempests flew; the enemy from re-embarking and escaping by Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries, flight. They kindle fires through all the field, and Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise: pass the night under arms. With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed, 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 gored with equal wounds. But when the sun the height of heaven ascends The sire of gods his golden scales suspends, With equal hand: in these explored the fate Of Greece and Troy, and poised the mighty weight. 90 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 horror spreads;
AURORA now, fair daughter of the dawn,
Sparkled with rosy light the dewy lawn
When Jove convened 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 the infernal centre hurl'd,
As from that centre to the ethereal world.
Let him who tempts me, dread those dire abodes;
And know, the Almighty is the god of gods.
League all your forces then, ye powers above,
Join all, and try the omnipotence of Jove:
Let down our golden everlasting chain,
The clouds burst dreadful o'er the Grecian heads:
Thick lightnings flash; the muttering thunder rolls, 95
5 Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls.
Before his wrath the trembling hosts retire;
The god in terrors, and the skies on fire.
Nor great Idomeneus that sight could bear,
Nor each stern Ajax, thunderbolts of war:
10 Nor he, the king of men, the alarm sustain'd;
Nestor alone amidst the storm remain'd.
Unwilling he remain'd, for Paris' dart
Had pierced his courser in a mortal part:
Fix'd in the forehead where the springing mane
Curled o'er the brow, it stung him to the brain:
Mad with his anguish, he begins to rear,
Paw with his hoofs aloft, and lash the air.
Scarce had his falchion cut the reins, and freed
The incumber'd chariot from the dying steed,
20 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 crowd
He rush'd, and on Ulysses call'd aloud:
Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and
Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth,
Whither, oh whither does Ulysses run!
Oh flight unworthy great Laërtes' son!
Mix'd with the vulgar shall thy fate be found,
Pierced in the back, a vile, dishonest wound?
Oh turn and save from Hector's direful rage
30 The glory of the Greeks, the Pylian sage.
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, compared to Jove.
The Almighty spoke; nor durst the powers reply: 35
A reverend horror silenced all the sky;
Trembling they stood before their sovereign's look;
At length his best beloved, the power of wisdom, spoke:
Oh first and greatest! god, by gods adored!
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 approved,
And smiled superior on his best beloved.
Then call'd his coursers, and his chariot took;
The steadfast firmament beneath them shook :
Rapt by the etherial steeds the chariots 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 coursers fly
Between the 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 raised,
His fane breathed odours, and his altar blazed :
There, from his radiant car the sacred sire
Of gods and men released the steeds of fire:
Blue ambient mists the immortal steeds embraced;
High on the cloudy point his seat he placed;
Thence his broad eye the subject world surveys,
The town, and tents, and navigable seas.
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 the 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,
Practised alike to turn, to stop, to chase,
To dare the fight, or urge the rapid race:
45 These late obey'd Æneas' 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, e'en he may learn to fear
The thirsty fury of my flying spear.
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55 The reverend charioteer directs the course,
And strains his aged arms 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,
60 But plunged 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 unrevenged permits to press the field;
65 Till to supply his place and rule the car,
Rose Archeptolemus, the fierce in war.
And now had death and horror cover'd all;
Like timorous flocks the Trojans in their wall
Inclosed had bled: but Jove with awful sound
70 Roll'd the big thunder o'er the vast profound;
Full in Tydides' face the lightning flew;
The ground before him flamed with sulphur blue:
The quivering steeds fell prostrate at the sight;
And Nestor's trembling hand confess'd his fright;
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