The riven armour sends a jarring sound:
His labouring heart heaves with so strong a bound,
The long lance shakes, and vibrates in the wound:
Fast flowing from its source, as prone he lay,
Life's purple tide impetuous gush'd away.
Then Idomen, insulting o'er the slain;
Behold, Deïphobus! nor vaunt in vain;
See! on one Greek three Trojan ghosts attend,
This, my third victim, to the shades I send.
Approaching now, thy boasted might approve,
And try the prowess of the seed of Jove.
From Jove, enamour'd on a mortal dame,
Great Minos, guardian of his country, came:
Deucalion, blameless prince! was Minos' heir;
His first-born I, the third from Jupiter:
O'er spacious Crete and her bold sons I reign,
And thence my ships transport me through the main:
Lord of a host, o'er all my host I shine,
A scourge to thee, thy father, and thy line.
The Trojan heard; uncertain, or to meet
Alone, with venturous arms, the king of Crete;
Or seek auxiliar force: at length decreed
To call some hero to partake the deed.
Forthwith Æneas rises to his thought:
For him, in Troy's remotest lines, he sought;
Where he, incensed at partial Priam stands,
and sees superior posts in meaner hands.
To him, ambitious of so great an aid,
The bold Deiphobus approach'd and said:
Now, Trojan prince, employ thy pious arms,
If e'er thy bosom felt fair honour's charms.
Alcathoüs dies, thy brother and thy friend!
Come and the warrior's loved remains defend.
Beneath his cares thy early youth was train'd,
One table fed you, and one roof contain'd.
This deed to fierce Idomeneus we owe;
Haste, and revenge it on the insulting foe.
Eneas heard, and for a space resign'd
To tender pity all his manly mind;
Then, rising in his rage, he burns to fight:
The Greek awaits him, with collected might.
As the fell boar on some rough mountain's head,
Arm'd with wild terrors, and to slaughter bred,
When the loud rustics rise and shout from far,
Attends the tumult, and expects the war;
O'er his bent back the bristly horrors rise,
Fires stream in lightning from his sanguine eyes,
His foaming tusks doth dogs and men engage,
But most his nunters rouse his mighty rage:
So stood Idomeneus, his javelin shook,
And met the Trojan with a lowering look,
Antilochus, Deïpyrus, were near,
The youthful offspring of the god of war,
Merion, and Aphareus, in field renown'd:
To these the warrior sent his voice around
Fellows in arms! your timely aid unite;
Lo, great Æneas rushes to the fight:
Sprung from a god, and more than mortal bold;
He fresh in youth, and I in arms grown old.
Else should this hand, this hour, decide the strife,
The great dispute, of glory, or of life.
He spoke, and all as with one voice obey'd:
Their lifted bucklers cast a dreadful shade.
Around the chief. Æneas too demands
The assisting forces of his native bands:
Paris, Deïphobus, Agenor join
(Co-aids and captains of the Trojan line);
In order follow all the embodied train;
Like Ida's flocks proceeding o'er the plain :
Before his fleecy care, erect and bold,
Stalks the proud ram, the father of the fold:
With joy the swain surveys them, as he leads
Stretch'd on the plain, he sobs away his breath,
And furious grasps the bloody dust in death.
The victor from his breast the weapon tears;
(His spoils he could not, for the shower of spears).
Though now unfit an active war to wage,
Heavy with cumbrous arms, stiff with cold age,
His listless limbs unable for the course;
560 In standing fight he yet maintains his force:
Till, faint with labour, and by foes repell'd,
His tired slow steps he drags from off the field.
Deïphobus beheld him as he pass'd,
And, fired with hate, a parting javelin cast:
565 The javelin err'd, but held its course along,
And pierced Ascalaphus, the brave and young:
The son of Mars fell gasping on the grouud,
And gnash'd the dust all bloody with his wound.
Nor knew the furious father of his fall;
High throned amidst the great Olympian hall,
On golden clouds the immortal synod sate;
Detain'd from bloody war by Jove and Fate.
Now, where in dust the breathless hero lay,
For slain Ascalaphus commenced the fray.
575 Deïphobus to seize his helmet flies,
And from his temples rends the glittering prize.
Valiant as Mars, Meriones drew near,
And on his loaded arm discharged his spear:
He drops the weight, disabled with the pain;
580 The hollow helmet rings against the plain.
Swift as the vulture leaping on his prey,
From his torn arm the Grecian rent away
The reeking javelin, and rejoin'd his friends.
His wounded brother good Polites tends;
585 Around his waist his pious arms he threw,
And from the rage of combat gently drew:
Him his swift coursers, on his splendid car,
Rapt from the lessening thunder of the war;
To Troy they drove him, groaning, from the shore, 680
590 And sprinkling, as he pass'd, the sands with gore.
Meanwhile fresh slaughter bathes the sanguine ground,
Heaps fall on heaps, and heaven and earth resound.
Bold Aphareus by great Æneas bled;
As toward the chief he turn'd his daring head,
595 He pierced his throat; the bending head, depress'd
Beneath his helmet, nods upon his breast;
His shield reversed o'er the fallen warrior lies:
And everlasting slumber seals his eyes.
Antilochus, as Thoön turn'd him round,
600 Transpierced his back with a dishonest wound:
The hollow vein that to the neck extends
Along the chine, his eager javelin rends:
Supine he falls, and to his social train
Spreads his imploring arms, but spreads in vain.
605 The exulting victor, leaping where he lay,
From his broad shoulders tore the spoils away;
His time observed; for, closed by foes around,
On all sides thick, the peals of arms resound.
His shield, emboss'd, the ringing storm sustains
610 But he, impervious and untouch'd remains
(Great Neptune's care preserved from hostile rage
This youth, the joy of Nestor's glorious age).
In arms intrepid, with the first he fought,
Faced every foe, and every danger sought.
615 His winged lance, resistless as the wind,
Obeys each motion of the master's mind,
Restless it flies, impatient to be free,
And meditates the distant enemy.
The son of Asius, Adamas, drew near,
To the cool fountains, through the well-known meads.
So joys Æneas, as his native band
Moves on in rank, and stretches o'er the land.
Round dead Alcathoüs now the battle rose ;
On every side the steely circle grows;
620 And struck his target with the brazen spear
Fierce in his front: but Neptune wards the blow
And blunts the javelin of the eluded foe:
In the broad buckler half the weapon stood;
Splinter'd on earth flew half the broken wood.
Disarm'd, he mingled in the Trojan crew;
But Merion's spear o'ertook him as he flew,
Deep in the belly's rim an entrance found,
Where sharp the pang, and mortal is the wound.
Bending he fell, and doubled to the ground,
630 Lay panting. Thus an ox, in fetters tied,
There great Idomeneus, Æneas here;
Like gods of war, dispensing fate, they stood,
And burn'd to drench the ground with mutual blood. 635 And death's dim shadows swarm before his view.
The Trojan weapon whizz'd along in air,
The Cretan saw, and shunn'd the brazen spear:
Sent from an arm so strong, the missive wood
Struck deep in earth, and quiver'd where it stood.
But Enomas received the Cretan's stroke,
The forceful spear his hollow corselet broke,
It ripp'd his belly with a ghastly wound,
And roll'd the smoking entrails to the ground.
While death's strong pangs distend his labouring side,
His bulk enormous on the field displays;
His heaving heart beats thick, as ebbing life decays.
The spear, the conqueror from his body drew,
Now batter'd breast-plates and hack'd helmets ring,
And o'er their heads unheeded javelins sing.
Above the rest two towering chiefs appear,
That shook the ponderous lance, in act to throw;
And this stood adverse with the bended bow:
Full on his breast the Trojan arrow fell,
But harmless bounded from the plated steel.
As on some ample barn's well-harden'd floor
(The winds collected at each open door),
While the broad fan with force is whirl'd around,
Light leaps the golden grain, resulting from the ground:
So from the steel that guards Atrides' heart,
Repell'd to distance flies the bounding dart.
Atrides, watchful of the unwary foe,
Pierced with his lance the hand that grasp'd the bow,
And nail'd it to the eugh: the wounded hand
Trail'd the long lance that mark'd with blood the sand:
But good Agenor gently from the wound
The spear solicits, and the bandage bound;
A sling's soft wool, snatch'd from a soldier's side,
At once the tent and ligature supplied.
Behold! Pisander. urged by Fate's decree, Springs through the ranks to fall, and fall by thee, Great Menelaus! to enhance thy fame; High-towering in the front, the warrior came. First the sharp lance was by Atrides thrown; The lance far distant by the winds was blown. Nor pierced Pisander through Atrides' shield; Pisander's spear fell shiver'd on the field. Not so discouraged, to the future blind, Vain dreams of conquest swell his haughty mind: Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan lord Like lightning brandish'd his far-beaming sword. His left arm high opposed the shining shield : His right, beneath, the cover'd pole-axe held (An olive's cloudy grain the handle made, Distinct with studs, and brazen was the blade); This on the helm discharged a noble blow; The plume dropp'd nodding to the plain below, Shorn from the crest. Atrides waved his steel: Deep through his front the weighty falchion fell; The crashing bones before its force gave way; In dust and blood the groaning hero lay; Forced from their ghastly orbs, and spouting gore, The clotted eye-balls tumble on the shore. The fierce Atrides spurn'd him as he bled, Tore off his arms, and, loud-exulting, said:
Thus, Trojans, thus, at length be taught to fear; O race perfidious, who delight in war! Already noble deeds ye have perform'd,
A princess raped transcends a navy storm'd:
In such bold feats your impious might approve,
Without the assistance or the fear of Jove.
The violated rites, the ravish'd dame,
Our heroes slaughter'd, and our ships on fame,
Crimes heap'd on crimes, shall bend your glory down,
And whelm in ruins yon flagitious town.
Paris from far the moving sight beheld, With pity soften'd, and with fury swell'd; His honour'd host, a youth of matchless grace, And loved of all the Paphlagonian race! With his full strength he bent his angry bow, And wing'd the feather'd vengeance at the foe. A chief there was, the brave Euchenor named, For riches much, and more for virtue famed, Who held his seat in Corinth's stately town; Polydus' son, a seer of old renown. Oft had the father told his early doom, By arms abroad, or slow disease at home: He climb'd his vessel, prodigal of breath, And chose the certain, glorious path to death. Beneath his ear the pointed arrow went; The soul came issuing at the narrow vent: His limbs, unnerved, drop useless on the ground, And everlasting darkness shades him round.
Nor knew great Hector how his legions yield (Wrapp'd in the cloud and tumult of the field); Wide on the left the force of Greece commands, And conquest hovers o'er the Achaian bands: With such a tide superior virtue sway'd,
And he that shakes the solid earth, gave aid. But in the centre Hector fix'd remain'd,
760 Where first the gates were forced, and bulwarks gain'd · There, on the margin of the hoary deep, (Their naval station where the Ajaces keep, And where low walls confine the beating tides, Whose humble barrier scarce the foes divides; 765 Where late in fight, both foot and horse engaged, And all the thunder of the battle raged) There, join'd, the whole Boeotian strength remains, The proud Ionians with their sweeping trains, Locrians and Phthians, and the Epean force; 770 But, join'd, repel not Hector's fiery course. The flower of Athens, Stichius, Phidas led, Bias and great Menestheus at their head. Meges the strong the Epeian bands controll'd, And Dracius prudent, and Amphion bold:
775 The Phthians Medon, famed for martial might,
And brave Podarces, active in the fight.
This drew from Phylachus his noble line;
Iphiclus' son: and that (Oïleus) thine:
(Young Ajax' brother, by a stolen embrace;
He dwelt far distant from his native place,
By his fierce stepdame from his father's reign
Expell'd and exiled for her brother slain.)
These rule the Phthians, and their arms employ
Mix'd with Boeotians, on the shores of Troy.
Now side by side, with like unwearied care,
Each Ajax labour'd through the field of war:
So when two lordly bulls, with equal toil,
Force the bright ploughshare through the fallow soil, 880
Join'd to one yoke, the stubborn earth they tear,
790 And trace large furrows with the shining share; O'er their huge limbs the foam descends in snow, And streams of sweat down their sour foreheads flow. A train of heroes follow'd through the fleld, Who bore by turns great Ajax' seven-fold shield; 795 Whene'er he breath'd, remissive of his might,
O thou, great Father! Lord of earth and skies!
Above the thought of man, supremely wise!
If from thy hand the fates of mortals flow,
From whence this favour to an impious foe,
A godless crew, abandon'd and unjust,
Still breathing rapine, violence, and lust?
The best of things beyond their measure cloy,
Sleep's balmy blessing, love's endearing joy;
The feast, the dance; whate'er mankind desire,
E'en the sweet charms of sacred numbers tire.
But Troy for ever reaps a dire delight
In thirst of slaughter, and in lust of fight.
Thus said, he seized (while yet the carcass heaved)
The bloody armour, which his train received:
Then sudden mix'd among the warring crew,
And the bold son of Pylæmenes slew.
Harpalion had through Asia travell❜d far,
Following his martial father to the war:
Through filial love he left his native shore,
Never, ah never, to behold it more!
His unsuccessful spear he chanced to fling
Against the target of the Spartan king;
Thus of his lance disarm'd, from death he flies,
And turns around his apprehensive eyes.
Him, through the hip transpiercing as he fled,
The shaft of Merion mingled with the dead.
Beneath the bone the glancing point descends,
And, driving down, the swelling bladder rends:
Sunk in his sad companions' arms he lay,
And in short pantings sobb'd his soul away
(Like some vile worm extended on the ground);
While life's red torrent gush'd from out the wound.
Him on his car the Paphlagonian train
Tired with the incessant slaughters of the fight,
No following troops his brave associate grace :
In close engagement an unpractised race,
The Locrian squadrons nor the javelin wield,
Nor bear the helm, nor lift the moony shield;
But skill'd from far the flying shaft to wing,
Or whirl the sounding pebble from the sling.
Dextrous with these they aim a certain wound,
Or fell the distant warrior to the ground.
805 Thus in the van the Telamonian train,
To few, and wondrous few, has Jove assign'd A wise, extensive, all-considering mind;
Their guardians these, the nations round confess,
And towns and empires for their safety bless.
If heaven have lodged this virtue in my breast,
Attend, O Hector, what I judge the best.
See, as thou movest, on dangers dangers spread,
And war's whole fury burns around thy head.
Behold distress'd within yon hostile wall,
How many Trojans yield, disperse, or fall i
What troops, out-number'd scarce the war maintain !
And what brave heroes at the ships lie slain !
Here cease thy fury; and the chiefs and kings
Convoked to council, weigh the sum of things.
Whether (the gods succeeding our desires)
To yon tall ships to bear the Trojan fires;
Or quit the fleet, and pass unhurt away,
Contented with the conquest of the day.
I fear, I fear, lest Greece, not yet undone,
Pay the large debt of last revolving sun;
Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains
On yonder decks, and yet o'erlooks the plains!
The counsel pleased; and Hector, with a bound,
Leap'd from his chariot on the trembling ground;
Swift as he leap'd, his clanging arms resound.
To guard this post (he cried) thy art employ,
And here detain the scatter'd youth of Troy :
Where yonder heroes faint, I bend my way,
And hasten back to end the doubtful day.
This said; the towering chief prepares to go,
Shakes his white plumes that to the breezes flow,
And seems a moving mountain topp'd with snow.
Through all his host, inspiring force, he flies,
And bids anew the martial thunder rise.
To Panthus' son, at Hector's high command,
Haste the bold leaders of the Trojan band:
But round the battlements, and round the plain
For many a chief he look'd, but look'd in vain;
Deiphobus, nor Helenus the seer,
Far o'er the plains in dreadful order bright,
The brazen arms reflect a beamy light:
Full in the blazing van great Hector shined,
920 Like Mars commision'd to confound mankind.
Before him flaming, his enormous shield,
Like the broad sun, illumined all the field:
His nodding helm emits a streamy ray;
His piercing eyes through all the battle stray;
And, while beneath his targe he flash'd along.
Shot terrors round, that wither'd e'en the strong.
Thus stalk'd he, dreadful; death was in his look;
Whole nations fear'd: but not an Argive shook.
The towering Ajax, with an ample stride,
930 Advanced the first, and thus the chief defied:
Hector! come on, thy empty threats forbear;
'Tis not thy arm, 'tis thundering Jove we fear:
The skill of war to us not idly given,
Lo Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but Heaven. 1025
935 Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts,
To force our fleet: the Greeks have hands and hearts. Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall,
Your boasted city and your god-built wall
Shall sink beneath us, smoking on the ground;
And spread a long, unmeasured ruin round.
The time shall come, when, chased along the plain,
E'en thou shalt call on Jove and call in vain:
E'en thou shalt wish to aid thy desperate course,
The wings of falcons for thy flying horse;
945 Shalt run, forgetful of a warrior's fame,
While clouds of friendly dust conceal thy sname.
As thus he spoke, behold in open view,
On sounding wings a dexter eagle flew.
To Jove's glad omen all the Grecians rise,
Nor Asius' son, nor Asius' self appear.
For these were pierced with many a ghastly wound,
Some cold in death, some groaning on the ground:
Some low in dust (a mournful object) lay;
High on the wall some breathed their souls awav.
Far on the left, amid the throng he found
(Cheering his troops, and dealing deaths around)
The graceful Paris; whom, with fury moved,
Opprobrious, thus, the impatient chief reproved :
Ill-fated Paris! slave to woman-kind,
As smooth of face as fraudulent of mind!
Where is Deiphobus, where Asius gone?
The godlike father, and the intrepid son?
The force of Helenus, dispensing fate?
And great Othryoneus, so fear'd of late?
Black fate hangs o'er thee from the avenging gods,
Imperial Troy from her foundations nods;
Whelm'd in thy country's ruins shalt thou fall,
And one devouring vengeance swallow all.
950 And hail, with shouts, his progress through the skies:
Far-echoing clamours bound from side to side;
They ceased; and thus the chief of Troy replied:
From whence this menace, this insulting strain?
Enormous boaster! doom'd to vaunt in vain.
So may the gods on Hector life bestow
(Not that short life which mortals lead below,
But such as those of Jove's high lineage born,
The blue-eyed maid, or he that gilds the morn),
As this decisive day shall end the fame
Of Greece, and Argos be no more a name.
And thou, imperious! if thy madness wait
The lance of Hector, thou shalt meet thy fate
That giant corpse, extended on the shore,
Shall largely feed the fowls with fat and gore
He said, and like a lion stalk'd along :
With shouts incessant earth and ocean rung
Sent from his following hosts: the Grecian train
With answering thunders fill'd the echoing plain;
A shout that tore heaven's concave, and above
Shook the fix'd splendours of the throne of Jove.
When Paris thus: My brother and my friend, Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend. In other battles I deserved thy blame, Though then not deedless, nor unknown to fame : But since yon rampart by thy arms lay low, I scatter'd slaughter from my fatal bow. The chiefs you seek on yonder shore lie slain : Of all these heroes two alone remain; Deiphobus, and Helenus the seer: Each now disabled by a hostile spear. Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires: This heart and hand shall second all thy fires: What with this arm I can, prepare to know, Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow. But, 'tis not ours, with forces not our own To combat; strength is of the gods alone.
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Juno deceives Jupiter by the girdle of Venus. Nestor sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the increasing clamour of the war, and hastens to Agamemnon: on his way he meets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the extremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by night, which Ulysses withstands: to which Diomed adds his advice, that, wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with their presence; which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to over reach him: she sets off her charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god of sleep, and, with some difficulty, persuades him to seal the eyes of Jupiter; this done, she goes to mount Ida, where the god, at first sight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid asleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the Greeks: Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax, and carried of from the battle: several actions succeed; till the Trojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way: the lesser Ajax signalizes himself in a particular
BU
UT nor the genial feast, nor flowing bowl,
Could charm the cares of Nestor's watchful soul;
His startled ears the increasing cries attend:
Then thus, impatient to his wounded friend:
What new alarm, divine Machaon, say,
What mix'd events attend this mighty day!
Hark how the shouts divide, and how they meet,
And now come full, and thicken to the fleet!
Here, with the cordial draught, dispel thy care,
Let Hecamede the strengthening bath prepare,
Refresh thy wound, and cleanse the clotted gore;
While I the adventures of the day explore.
He said and seizing Thrasymedes' shield
(His valiant offspring) hasten'd to the field
(That day the son his father's buckler bore);
Then snatch'd a lance, and issued from the door.
Soon as the prospect open'd to his view,
His wounded eyes the scene of sorrow knew;
Dire disarray! the tumult of the fight,
The wall in ruins, and the Greeks in flight.
As when old Ocean's silent surface sleeps,
The waves just heaving on the purple deeps:
While yet the expected tempest hangs on high,
Weighs down the cloud, and blackens in the sky,
The mass of waters will no wind obey;
Jove sends one gust, and bids them roll away.
While wavering counsels thus his mind engage,
Fluctuates in doubtful thought the Pylian sage,
To join the host, or to the general haste ;
Debating long, he fixes on the last:
Yet, as he moves, the fight his bosom warms;
'The field rings dreadful with the clang of arms;
The gleaming falchions flash, the javelins fly,
Blows echo blows, and all or kill or die.
Him, in his march, the wounded princes meet,
By tardy steps ascending from the fleet;
The king of men, Ulysses the divine,
And who to Tydeus owes his noble line.
(Their ships at distance from the battle stand,
In lines advanced along the shelving strand:
Whose bay, the fleet unable to contain
At length; beside the margin of the main,
Rank above rank, the crowded ships they moor:
Who landed first, lay highest on the shore).
Supported on their spears, they took their way,
Unfit to fight, but anxious for the day.
Nestor's approach alarm'd each Grecian breast,
Whom thus the general of the host address'd:
O grace and glory of the Achaian name!
What drives thee, Nestor, from the field of fame?
Shall then proud Hector see his boast fulfill'd,
Our fleets in ashes, and our heroes kill'd?
Such was his threat, ah now too soon made good,
On many a Grecian bosom writ in blood.
Is every heart inflamed with equal rage
Against your king, nor will one chief engage?
And have I lived to see with mournful eyes
In every Greek a new Achilles rise ?
Gerenian Nestor then: So Fate has will'd;
And all-confirming time has fate fulfill'd.
Not he that thunders from the aërial bower,
Not Jove himself, upon the past has power.
The wall, our late inviolable bound,
And best defence, lies smoking on the ground:
E'en to the ships their conquering arms extend,
And groans of slaughter'd Greeks to heaven ascend.
On speedy measures then employ your thought,
In such distress. If counsel profit aught;
Arms cannot much: though Mars our souls incite;
These gaping wounds withhold us from the fight.
To him the monarch: That our army bends,
That Troy triumphant our high fleet ascends,
And that the rampart, late our surest trust
And best defence, lies smoking in the dust:
All this from Jove's afflictive hand we bear,
Who, far from Argos, wills our ruin here.
Past are the days when happier Greece was bless d,
And all his favour, all his aid confess'd;
Now heaven averse, our hands from battle ties,
And lifts the Trojan glory to the skies.
Cease we at length to waste our blood in vain,
And launch what ships lie nearest to the main ;
Leave these at anchor till the coming night:
Then, if impetuous Troy forbear the fight,
Bring all to sea, and hoist each sail for flight.
Better from evils, well foreseen, to run,
Than perish in the danger we may shun.
Thus he. The sage Ulysses thus replies,
While anger flash'd from his disdainful eyes:
What shameful words (unkingly as thon art)
Fall from that trembling tongue and timorous heart!
Oh were thy sway the curse of meaner powers,
And thou the shame of any host but ours!
A host, by Jove endued with martial might,
And taught to conquer, or to fall in fight:
5 Adventurous combats and bold wars to wage,
Employ'd our youth, and yet employs our age.
And wilt thou thus desert the Trojan plain?
And have whole streams of blood been spilt in vain ?
In such base sentence if thou couch thy fear,
10 Speak it in whispers, lest a Greek should hear.
Lives there a man so dead to fame, who dares
To think such meanness, or the thought declares?
And comes it e'en from him whose sovereign sway
The banded legions of all Greece obey?
15 Is this a general's voice, that calls to flight,
While war hangs doubtful, while his soldiers fight?
What more could Troy? What yet their fate denies
Thou givest the foe; all Greece becomes their prize.
No more the troops (our hoisted sails in view,
20 Themselves abandon'd) shall he fight pursue;
But thy ships flying, with despair shall see;
And owe destruction to a prince like thee.
Thy just reproofs (Atrides calm replies)
Like arrows pierce me, for thy words are wise.
25 Unwilling as I am to lose the host,
I force not Greece to leave this hateful coast.
Glad I submit, whoe'er, or young, or old,
Aught, more conducive to our weal, unfold.
Tydides cut him short, and thus began:
30 Such counsel if you seek, behold the man
Who boldly gives it; and what he shall say,
Young though he be, disdain not to obey:
A youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs,
May speak to counsels and assembled kings.
35 Hear then in me the great Enides' son,
Whose honour'd dust (his race of glory run)
Lies whelm'd in ruins of the Theban wall;
Brave in his life, and glorious in his fall;
With three bold sons was generous Prothons bless'd, 130
40 Who Pleuron's walls and Calydon possess'd;
Melas and Agrius, but (who far surpass'd
The rest in courage) Eneus was the last.
From him, my sire. From Calydon expell'd,
He pass'd to Argos, and in exile dwell'd;
45 The monarch's daughter there (so Jove ordain'd)
He won, and flourish'd where Adrastus reign'd;
There, rich in fortune's gifts, his acres till'd,
Beheld his vines their liquid harvest yield,
And numerous flocks that whiten'd all the field.
Though sore of battle, though with wounds oppress'd, 145
50 Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in fame!
Nor lives in Greece a stranger to his name.
Then, what for common good my thoughts inspire,
Attend, and in the son respect the sire.
55 Let each go forth, and animate the rest,
Advance the glory which he cannot share,
Though not partaker, witness of the war.
But lest new wounds on wounds o'erpower us quite,
Beyond the missile javelin's sounding flight,
60 Safe let us stand; and from the tumult far,
Inspire the ranks, and rule the distant war.
He added not the listening kings obey,
Slow moving on; Atrides leads the way.
The god of ocean (to inflame their rage)
Appears a warrior furrow'd o'er with age;
Press'd in his own, the general's hand he took,
And thus the venerable hero spoke :
The wretch relentless, and o'erwhelm with shame!
But heaven forsakes not thee; o'er yonder sands
Soon shalt thou view the scatter'd Trojan bands
Fly diverse; while proud kings, and chiefs renown'd,
Driven heaps on heaps, with clouds involved around
Of rolling dust, their winged wheels employ
To hide their ignominious heads in Troy.
He spoke, then rush'd amid the warrior crew;
And sent his voice before him as he flew,
Loud, as the shout encountering armies yield,
When twice ten thousand shake the labouring field;
Such was the voice, and such the thundering sound 175
85 Of him, whose trident rends the solid ground.
Each Argive bosom beats to meet the fight,
And grizly war appears a pleasing sight.
Meantime, Saturnia from Olympus' brow,
High throned in gold, beheld tlie fields below;
With joy the glorious conflict she survey'd,
Where her great brother gave the Grecians aid.
But placed aloft, on Ida's shady height
She sees her Jove, and trembles at the sight,
Jove to deceive, what methods shall she try,
What arts, to blind his all-beholding eye?
At length she trusts her power; resolved to prove
The old, yet still successful, cheat of love;
Against his wisdom to oppose her charms,
And lull the Lord of Thunders in her arms.
A splendid footstool, and a throne, that shine
With gold unfading, Somnus, shall be thine,
The work of Vulcan; to indulge thy ease,
When wine and feasts thy golden humours please.
Imperial dame (the balmy power replies)
Great Saturn's heir, and empress of the skies!
O'er other gods I spread my easy chain;
The sire of all, old Ocean, owns my reign,
190 And his hush'd waves lie silent on the main.
But how, unbidden, shall I dare to steep
Jove's awful temples in the dew of sleep?
Long since too venturous, at thy bold command,
On those eternal lids I laid my hand;
What time, deserting Ilion's wasted plain,
.95 His conquering son, Alcides, plough'd the main.
When lo! the deeps arise, the tempests roar,
And drive the Hero to the Coan shore:
Great Jove awaking, shook the bless'd abodes
With rising wrath, and tumbled gods on gods:
Me chief he sought, and from the realms on high
Had hurl'd indignant to the nether sky,
But gentle Night, to whom I fled for aid
(The friend of earth and heaven) her wings display'd;
Empower'd the wrath of gods and men to tame,
205 E'en Jove revered the venerable dame
Swift to her bright apartment she repairs,
Sacred to dress and beauty's pleasing cares:
With skill divine had Vulcan form'd the bower,
Safe from access of each intruding power.
Touch'd with her secret key, the doors unfold:
Self-closed, behind her shut the valves of gold.
Here first she bathes; and round her body pours
Soft oils of fragrance, and ambrosial showers:
The winds, perfumed, the balmy gale convey
Through heaven, through earth, and all the aërial way:
Spirit divine! whose exhalation greets
Vain are thy fears (the queen of heaven replies,
And speaking rolls her large majestic eyes):
Think'st thou that Troy has Jove's high favour won,
Like great Alcides, his all-conquering son?
210 Hear, and obey the mistress of the skies,
Nor for the deed expect a vulgar prize;
For know, thy loved-one shall be ever thine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithae the divine.
Swear then (he said) by those tremendous floods 305
The sense of gods with more than mortal sweets.
Thus while she breathed of heaven, with decent pride
Her artful hands the radiant tresses tied ;
Part on her head in shining ringlets roll'd,
Part o'er her shoulders waved like melted gold.
Around her next a heavenly mantle flow'd,
That rich with Pallas' labour'd colours glow'd:
Large clasps of gold the foldings gather'd round
A golden zone her swelling bosom bound.
Far-beaming pendants tremble in her ear,
Each gem illumined with a triple star.
Then o'er her head she casts a veil more white
Than new-fallen snow, and dazzling as the light.
Last her fair feet celestial sandals grace.
Thus issuing radiant, with majestic pace,
Forth from the doom the imperial goddess moves,
And calls the mother of the Smiles and Loves.
How long (to Venus thus apart she cried)
Shall human strife celestial minds divide?
Ah yet will Venus aid Saturnia's joy,
And set aside the cause of Greece and Troy?
Let heaven's dread empress (Cytherea said)
Speak her request, and deem her will obey'd.
Then grant me (said the queen) those conquering
charms,
That power, which mortals and immortals warms,
That love, which melts mankind in fierce desires,
And burns the sons of heaven with sacred fires!
For lo! I haste to those remote abodes,
Where the great parents (sacred source of gods!)
Ocean and Tethys their old empire keep,
On the last limits of the land and deep.
In their kind arms my tender years were past;
What time old Saturn from Olympus cast,
Of upper heaven to Jove resign'd the reign,
Whelm'd under the huge mass of earth and main.
For strife, I hear, has made the union cease,
Which held so long that ancient pair in peace.
What honour, and what love shall I obtain,
If I compose those fatal feuds again;
Once more their minds in mutual ties engage,
And what my youth has owed, repay their age!
She said. With awe divine the queen of love
Obey'd the sister and the wife of Jove;
And from her fragrant breast the zone unbraced,
With various skill and high embroidery graced.
In this was every art, and every charm,
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm:
Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire,
The kind deceit, the still reviving fire,
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs,
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
This on her hand the Cyprian goddess laid;
Take this, and with it all thy wish, she said.
With smiles she took the charm; and smiling press'd
The powerful cestus to her snowy breast.
Then Venus to the courts of Jove withdrew;
Whilst from Olympus pleased Saturnia flew.
O'er high Pieria thence her course she bore,
O'er fair Emathia's ever-pleasing shore,
O'er Hæmus' hills with snows eternal crown'd;
Nor once her flying foot approach'd the ground.
Then taking wing from Athos' lofty steep,
She speeds to Lemnos o'er the rolling deep,
And seeks the cave of Death's half brother, Sleep.
Sweet pleasing Sleep! (Saturnia thus began)
Who spread'st thy empire o'er each god and man;
If e'er obsequious to thy Juno's will,
O power of slumbers! hear, and favour still.
Shed thy soft dews on Jove's immortal eyes,
While sunk in love's entrancing joys he lies.
215 That roar through hell, and bind the invoking gods:
Let the great parent earth one hand sustain,
And stretch the other o'er the sacred main :
Call the black Titans, that with Chronos dwell,
To hear and witness from the depths of hell;
220 That she, my loved-one, shall be ever mine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.
The queen assents, and from the infernal bowers
Invokes the sable subtartarean powers,
And those who rule the inviolable floods,
Whom mortals name the dread Titanian gods.
Then swift as wind, o'er Lemnos' smoky isle,
They wing their way, and Imbrus' sea-beat soil.
Through air unseen, involved in darkness glide,
And light on Lectos, on the point of Ide
(Mother of savages, whose echoing hills
Are heard resounding with a hundred rills):
Fair Ida trembles underneath the god;
Hush'd are her mountains, and her forests nod.
There on a fir, whose spiry branches rise
To join its summit to the neighbouring skies;
235 Dark in embowering shade, conceal'd from sight,
Sat Sleep, in likeness of the bird of night.
(Chalcis his name by those of heavenly birth,
But call'd Cymindis by the race of earth.)
To Ida's top successful Juno flies;
240 Great Jove surveys her with desiring eyes:
The god, whose lightning sets the heavens on fire,
Through all his bosom feels the fierce desire;
Fierce as when first by stealth he seized her charms, 335
Mix'd with her soul, and melted in her arms.
245 Fix'd on her eyes he fed his eager look,
Then press'd her hand, and thus with transport spoke:
Why comes my goddess from the ethereal sky,
And not her steeds and flaming chariot nigh?
Then she: I haste to those remote abodes
260 To ask consent, I leave the Olympian bower;
Nor seek, unknown to thee, the sacred cells
Deep under seas, where hoary Ocean dwells.
For that (said Jove) suffice another day;
But eager love denies the least delay.
Let softer cares the present hour employ,
And be these moments sacred all to joy.
Ne'er did my soul so strong a passion prove,
Or for an earthly or a heavenly love:
Not when I press'd Ixion's matchless dame,
270 Whence rose Perithous, like the gods in fame.
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