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Ranged in three lines they view the prostrate band:
The horses yoked beside each warrior stand;
Their arms in order on the ground reclined,
Through the brown shade the fulgid weapons shined;
Amidst lay Rhesus, stretch'd in sleep profound,
And the white steeds behind his chariot bound.
The welcome sight Ulysses first descries,
And points to Diomed the tempting prize,
The man, the coursers, and the car behold!
Described by Dolon, with the arms of gold.
Now, brave Tydides! now thy courage try,
Approach the chariot, and the steeds untie;
Or if thy soul aspire to fiercer deeds,

Urge thou the slaughter, while I seize the steeds.
Pallas (this said) her hero's bosom warms,
Breathed in his heart, and strung his nervous arms;
Where'er he pass'd, a purple stream pursued:
His thirsty falchion, fat with hostile blood,
Bathed all his footsteps, dyed the fields with gore,
And a low groan remurmur'd through the shore.
So the grim lion, from his nightly den,
O'erleaps the fences, and invades the pen;
On sheep or goats, resistless in his way,

He falls, and foaming rends the guardless prey.
Nor stopp'd the fury of his vengeful hand
Till twelve lay breathless of the Thracian band.
Ulysses following, as his partner slew,
Back by the foot each slaughter'd warrior drew;
The milk-white coursers studious to convey
Safe to the ships, he wisely clear'd the way;
Lest the fierce steeds, not yet to battles bred,
Should start, and tremble at the heaps of dead.
Now twelve dispatch'd, the monarch last they found;
Tydides' falchion fix'd him to the ground.
Just then a deadful dream Minerva sent;

A warlike form appear'd before his tent,
Whose visionary steel his bosom tore:

So dream'd the monarch, and awaked no more.
Ulysses now the snowy steeds detains,
And leads them, fasten'd by the silver reins;
These, with his bow unbent, he lash'd along;
(The scourge forgot, on Rhesus' chariot hung.)
Then his friend the signal to retire;
gave
But him, new dangers, new achievements fire:
Doubtful he stood, or with his reeking blade
To send more heroes to the infernal shade,
Drag off the car where Rhesus' armour lay,
Or heave with manly force, and lift away,
While unresolved the son of Tydeus stands,
Pallas appears, and thus the chief commands:
Enough, my son; from farther slaughter cease,
Regard thy safety, and depart in peace;
Haste to the ships, the gotten spoil enjoy
Nor tempt too far the hostile gods of Troy.

The voice divine confess'd the martial maid;
In haste he mounted, and her word obey'd;

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Now from nocturnal sweat, and sanguine stain, They cleanse their bodies in the neighbouring main: Then in the polish'd bath, refresh'd from toil, Their joints they supple with dissolving oil,

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And the crown'd goblet foams with floods of wine.

• Minerva.

Swift as the wind, and white as winter snow.

Not unobserved they pass'd: the god of light Had watch'd his Troy, and mark'd Minerva's flight, Saw Tydeus' son with heavenly succour blest, And vengeful anger fill'd his sacred breast. Swift to the Trojan camp descends the power, "And wakes Hippocoon in the morning hour, (On Rhesus' side accustom'd to attend, A faithful kinsman, and instructive friend.) He rose and saw the field deform'd with blood, An empty space where late the coursers stood, The yet-warm Thracians panting on the coast; For each he wept, but for his Rhesus most: Now while on Rhesus' name he calls in vain, The gathering tumult spreads o'er all the plain; On heaps the Trojans rush, with wild affright, And wondering view the slaughters of the night. Meanwhile the chiefs arriving at the shade Where late the spoils of Hector's spy were laid, Ulysses stopp'd; to him Tydides bore The trophy, dropping yet with Dolon's gore: Then mounts again: again their nimble feet The coursers ply, and thunder towards the fleet. Old Nestor first perceived the approaching sound, Bespeaking thus the Grecian peers around: Methinks the noise of trampling steeds I hear, Thickening this way, and gathering on my ear; Perhaps some horses of the Trojan breed (So may, ye gods! my pious hopes succeed) The great Tydides and Ulysses bear, Return'd triumphant with this prize of war. Yet much I fear (ah, may that fear be vain!) The chiefs out-number'd by the Trojan train; Perhaps, e'en now pursued, they seek the shore Or, oh! perhaps these heroes are no more.

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ARGUMENT.

The third Battle, and the Acts of Agamemnon.

Agamemnon having armed himself, leads the Grecians to battle: Hector prepares the Trojans to receive them; while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, give the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all before him; and Hector is commanded by Jupiter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline the engagement, till the king shall be wounded and retire from the field. He then makes a great slaughter of the enemy; Ulysses and Diomed put a stop to him for a time: but the latter being wounded by Paris, i obliged to desert his companion, who is encompass ed by the Trojans, wounded, and in the utmost danger, till Menelaus and Ajax rescue him. Hector comes against Ajax; but that hero alone opposes multitudes, and rallies the Greeks. In the mean time Machaon, in the other wing of the army, is pierced by an arrow from Paris, and carried from the fight in Nestor's chariot. Achilles (who overlooked the action from his ship) sends Patroclus to inquire which of the Greeks was wounded in that manner? Nestor entertains him in his tent with an account of the accidents of the day, and a long re cital of some former wars which he remembered, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight for his countrymen, or at least permit him to do it, clad in Achilles' armour. Patroclus, in his return, meets Eurypylus also wounded, and assists him in that distress.

This book opens with the eight-and-twentieth day of the poem; and the same day, with its various actions and adventures, is extended through the

THE

BOOK XI.

HE saffron morn, with early blushes spread Now rose refulgent from Tithonus' bed; With new-born day to gladden mortal sight, And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light: When baleful Eris, sent by Jove's command. The torch of discord blazing in her hand, Through the red skies her bloody sign extends And wrapt in tempests, o'er the fleet descende High on Ulysses' bark, her horrid stand

She took, and thunder'd through the seas and land E'en Ajax and Achilles heard the sound, Whose ships remote, the guarded navy bound. Thence the black fury through the Grecian throng With horror sounds the loud Orthian song: The navy shakes, and at the dire alarms Each bosom boils, each warrior starts to arms. No more they sigh inglorious to return, But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn. The king of men his hardy host inspires With loud command, with great example fires; Himself first rose, himself before the rest His mighty limbs in radiant armour dress'à. And first he cased his manly legs around In shining greaves, with silver buckles bound: The beaming cuirass next adorn'd his breast, The same which once king Cinyras possess'd: (The fame of Greece and her assembled host Had reach'd that monarch on the Cyprian coast; "Twas then, the friendship of the chief to gain, This glorious gift he sent, nor sent in vain.) Ten rows of azure steel the work infold, Twice ten of tin, and twelve of ductile gold; Three glittering dragons to the gorget rise, Whose imitated scales against the skies Reflected various light, and arching bow'd, Like colour'd rainbows o'er a showery cloud, (Jove's wondrous bow, of three celestial dyes, Placed as a sign to man amid the skies.) A radiant baldric o'er his shoulder tied, Sustain'd the sword that glitter'd at his side: Gold was the hilt, a silver sheath encased The shining blade, and golden hangers graced His buckler's mighty orb was next display'd, That round the warrior cast a dreadful shade. Ten zones of brass its ample brim surround, And twice ten bosses the bright convex crown'd: Tremendous Gorgon frown'd upon its field, And circling terrors fill'd the expressive shield: Within its concave hung a silver thong, On which a mimic serpent creeps along, His azure length in easy waves extends,

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Through the dark clouds, and now in night retires;
Thus through the ranks appear'd the godlike man,
Plunged in the rear, or blazing in the van
While streamy sparkles, restless as he flies,
Flash from his arms as lightning from the skies.
As sweating reapers in some wealthy field,
Ranged in two bands, their crooked weapons wield, 90
Bear down the furrows, till their labours meet;
Thick fall the heapy harvests at their feet:
So Greece and Troy the field of war divide,
And falling ranks are strew'd on every side.
None stoop'd a thought to base inglorious flight;
But horse to horse, and man to man they fight.
Not rabid wolves more fierce contest their prey:
Each wounds, each bleeds, but none resign the day.
Discord with joy the scene of death descries,
And drinks large slaughter at her sanguine eyes:
Discord alone, of all the immortal train,
Swells the red horrors of this direful plain :
The gods in peace their golden mansions fill,
Ranged in bright order on the Olympian hill:
But general murmurs told their griefs above,
And each accused the partial will of Jove.
Meanwhile apart, superior, and alone,
The eternal monarch, on his awful throne,
Wrapt in the blaze of boundless glory sat;
And, fix'd, fulfill'd the just decrees of fate.
On earth he turn'd his all-considering eyes,
And mark'd the spot where Ilion's towers arise;
The sea with ships, the fields with armies spread,
The victor's rage, the dying and the dead.

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Thus while the morning-beams increasing bright 115 O'er heaven's pure azure spread the growing light Commutual death the fate of war confounds, Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds. But now (what time in some sequester'd vale The weary woodman spreads his sparing meal, When his tired arms refuse the axe to rear, And claim a respite from the sylvan war; But not till half the prostrate forests lay Stretch'd in long ruin, and exposed to day) Then, nor till then, the Greeks' impulsive might Pierced the black phalanx, and let in the light. Great Agamemnon then the slaughter led, And slew Bienor at his people's head:

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Whose squire Oileus, with a sudden spring,

Leap'd from the chariot to revenge his king,

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But in his front he felt the fatal wound,

Which pierced his brain, and stretch'd him on the ground Atrides spoil'd, and left them on the plain :

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Vain was their youth, their glittering armour vain :
Now soil'd with dust, and naked to the sky,
Their snowy limbs and beauteous bodies lie.
Two sons of Priam next to battle move,
The product, one of marriage, one of love;
In the same car the brother-warriors ride,
This took the charge to combat, that to guide:
Far other task, than when they wont to keep,
On Ida's tops, their father's fleecy sheep!
These on the mountains once Achilles found,
And captive led, with pliant osiers bound;
Then to their sire for ample sums restored;
But now to perish by Atrides' sword:
Pierced in the breast, the base-born Isus bleeds;

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Till in three heads the embroider'd monster ends
Last o'er his brows his fourfold helm he placed,
With nodding horse-hair formidably graced;
And in his hands two steely javelins wields,
That blaze to heaven, and lighten all the fields.
That instant Juno and the martial maid
In happy thunders promised Greece their aid;
High o'er the chief they clash'd their arms in air,
And, leaning from the clouds, expect the war.
Close to the limits of the trench and mound,
The fiery coursers to their chariots bound
The squires restrain'd: the foot, with those who wield
The lighter arms, rush forward to the field.
To second these, in close array combined,
The squadrons spread their sable wings behind.
Now shouts and tumults wake the tardy sun,
As with the light the warriors' toils begun.
E'en Jove, whose thunder spoke his wrath, distill'd
Red drops of blood o'er all the fatal field;
The woes of men unwilling to survey,

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Cleft through the head, his brother's fate succeeds Swift to the spoil the hasty victor falls,

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There wise Polydamas and Hector stood;
Eneas, honour'd as a guardian god;
Bold Polybus, Agenor the divine;
The brother warriors of Antenor's line;
With youthful Acamas, whose beauteous face
And fair proportion match'd the ethereal race.
Great Hector, cover'd with his spacious shield,
Plies all the troops, and orders all the field.

And stripp'd, their features to his mind recalls
The Trojans see the youths untimely die,
But helpless tremble for themselves, and fly.
So when a lion, ranging o'er the lawns,
Finds, on some grassy lair, the couching fawns,
Their bones he cracks, their reeking vitals draws,
And grinds the quivering flesh with bloody jaws;
The frighted hind beholds, and dares not stay,
But swift through rustling thickets bursts her way;
All drown'd in sweat the panting mother flies,
And the big tears roll trickling from her eyes.
Amidst the tumult of the routed train,
The sons of false Antimachus were slain;
He, who for bribes his faithful counsels sold,
And voted Helen's stay for Paris' gold.
Atrides mark'd, as these their safety sought,
And slew the children for the father's fault
Their headstrong horse unable to restrain,
They shook with fear, and dropp'd the silken rein:
Then in their chariot on their knees they fall,
And thus with lifted hands for mercy call:

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He said; the driver whirls his lengthful thong!
The horses fly! the chariot smokes along.
Clouds from their nostrils the fierce coursers blow,
And from their sides the foam descends in snow;
Shot through the battle in a moment's space,
The wounded monarch at his tent they place.
No sooner Hector saw the king retired,
But thus his Trojans and his aids he fired:
Hear, all ye Dardan, all ye Lycian race!
Famed in close fight, and dreadful face to face.
Now call to mind your ancient trophies won,
Your great forefather's virtues, and your own.
Behold the general flies! deserts his powers!
Lo Jove himself declares the conquest ours!
Now on yon ranks impel your foaming steeds;
And, sure of glory, dare immortal deeds.

With words like these the fiery chief alarms
His fainting host, and every bosom warms.
As the bold hunter cheers his hounds to tear
The brindled lion, or the tusky bear;

With voice and hand provokes their doubting heart,
And springs the foremost with his lifted dart:

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Here stand his utmost force-The warrior sai¿
Swift at the word his pondrous javelin fled;
Nor miss'd its aim, but where the plumage danced,
Razed the smooth cone, and thence obliquely glanced
Safe in his helm (the gift of Phoebus' hands)
Without a wound the Trojan hero stands :

365 But yet so stunn'd, that, staggering on the plain,
His arm and knee his sinking bulk sustain;
O'er his dim sight the misty vapours rise,
And a short darkness shades his swimming eyes.
Tydides follow'd to regain his lance:

370 While Hector rose, recover'd from the trance:
Remounts his car, and herds amidst the crowd:
The Greek pursues him, and exults aloud:
Once more thank Phoebus for thy forfeit breath
Or thank that swiftness which outstrips the death.

375 Well by Apollo are thy prayers repaid,

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And oft that partial power has lent his aid.
Thou shalt not long the death deserved withstand,
If any god assist Tydides' hand.
Fly then, inglorious! but thy flight, this day,
Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay.

Him, while he triumph'd, Paris eyed from far
(The spouse of Helen, the fair cause of war):
Around the fields his feather'd shafts he sent,
From ancient Ilus' ruin'd monument;
Behind the column placed, he bent bis bow,
And wing'd an arrow at the unwary foe;
Just as he stoop'd, Agastrophus's crest

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Then brave Hipponous famed in many a fight, Opheltius, Orus, sunk to endless night; symnus, Agelaus; all chiefs of name:

The rest were vulgar deaths, unknown to fame.

Dispels the gather'd clouds that Notus forms:

So godlike Hector prompts his troops to dare;

Nor prompts alone, but leads himself the war. On the black body of the foes he pours;

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To seize, and drew the corselet from his breast,
The bow-string twang'd; nor flew the shaft in vain.

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390 But pierced his foot, and nail'd it to the plain. The laughing Trojan, with a joyful spring, Leaps from his ambush, and insults the king.

He bleeds! (he cries) some god has sped my dart, 485 Would the same god had fix'd it in his heart!

He dauntless thus: thou conqueror of the fair, 400 Thou woman-warrior with the curling hair; Vain archer! trusting to the distant dart, Unskill'd in arms to act a manly part! Thou hast but done what boys or women can; Such hands may wound, but not incense a man. 405 Nor boast the scratch thy feeble arrow gave, A coward's weapon never hurts the brave. Not so this dart, which thou may'st one day feel: Fate wings its flight, and death is on the steel. Where this but lights, some noble life expires: 410 Its touch makes orphans, bathes the cheeks of sires, Steeps earth in purple, gluts the birds of air, And leaves such objects as distract the fair. Ulysses hastens with a trembling heart, Before him steps, and bending draws the dart:

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The gust continued, violent, and strong,
Rolls sable clouds in heaps on heaps along;
Now to the skies the foaming billows rears,
Now breaks the surge, and wide the bottom bares:
Thus raging Hector, with resistless hands,
O'erturns, confounds, and scatters all their bands.
Now the last ruin the whole host appals;
Now Greece had trembled in her wooden walls
But wise Ulysses call'd Tydides forth,
His soul rekindled, and awaked his worth:

And stand we deedless, O eternal shame!
Till Hector's arm involve the ships in flame?
Haste, let us join, and combat side by side.
The warrior thus, and thus the friend replied •
No martial toil I shun, no danger fear;
Let Hector come; I wait his fury here.
But Jove with conquest crowns the Trojan train
And, Jove our foe, all human force is vain.

He sigh'd; but, sighing, raised his vengeful stee,
And from his car the proud Thymbræus fell:
Molion, the charioteer, pursued his lord,
His death ennobled by Ulysses' sword.
There slain, they left them in eternal night,
Then plunged amidst the thickest ranks of fight.
So two wild boars outstrip the following hounds,
Then swift revert, and wounds return for wounds.
Stern Hector's conquests in the middle plain
Stood check'd awhile, and Greece respired again.
The sons of Merops shone amidst the war;
Towering they rode in one refulgent car:
In deep prophetic arts their father skill'd,
Had warn'd his children from the Trojan field:
Fate urged them on; the father warn'd in vain;
They rush'd to fight, and perish'd on the plain !
Their breasts no more the vital spirit warms:
The stern Tydides strips their shining arms.
Hypirochus by great Ulysses dies,

And rich Hippodamus becomes his prize.
Great Jove from Ide with slaughter fills his sight,
And level hangs the doubtful scale of fight.
By Tydeus' lance Agastrophus was slain,
The far-famed hero of Pæonian strain;
Wing'd with his fears, on foot he strove to fly,
His steeds too distant, and the foe too nigh;
Through broken orders, swifter than the wind,
He fled, but flying left his life behind.
This Hector sees, as his experienced eyes
Traverse the files, and to the rescue flies;
Shouts, as he pass'd, the crystal regions rena,
And moving armies on his march attend,
Great Diomed himself was seized with fear,
And thus bespoke his brother of the war:
Mark how this way yon bending squadrons yield!
The storm rolls on, and Hector rules the field:

415 Forth flows the blood; an eager pang succeeds:
Tydides mounts, and to the navy speeds.
Now on the field Ulysses stands alone,
The Greeks all fled, the Trojans pouring on:
But stands collected in himself, and whole,
420 And questions thus his own unconquer'd soul:
What farther subterfuge, what hopes remain ?
What shame, inglorious, if I quit the plain!
What danger, singly if I stand the ground,
My friends all scatter'd, all the foes around!
425 Yet wherefore doubtful? let this truth suffice,
The brave meets danger, and the coward flies:
To die or conquer, proves a hero's heart;
And knowing this, I know a soldier's part.
Such thoughts revolving in his careful breast,
430 Near, and more near, the shady cohorts press'd:
These, in the warrior, their own fate enclose :
And round him deep the steedy circle grows.
So fares a boar whom all the troop surrounds
Of shouting huntsmen, and of clamorous hounds;
435 He grinds his ivory tusks; he foams with ire,

His sanguine eye-balls glare with living fire :
By these, by those, on every part is plied;
And the red slaughter spreads on every side.
Pierced through the shoulder, first Deiopis fell
440 Next Ennomus and Thoön sunk to hell'

Chersidamas, beneath the navel thrust, Falls prone to earth, and grasps the bloody dust. Charops, the son of Hippasus, was near; Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear: 445 But to his aid his brother Socus flies, Socus, the brave, the generous, and the wise : Near as he drew, the warrior thus began: O great Ulysses, much-enduring man! Not deeper skill'd in every martial slight, Than worn to toils, and active in the fight!