So just the stroke, that yet the body stood
Erect, then roll'd along the sands in blood.
Here, proud Polydamas, here turn thy eyes!
(The towering Ajax loud insulting cries):
Say, is this chief extended on the plain,
A worthy vengeance for Prothonor slain?
Mark well his port; his figure, and his face,
Nor speak him vulgar, nor of vulgar race;
Some lines, methinks, may make his lineage known, 555
Antenor's brother, or perhaps his son.
He spake, and smiled severe, for well he knew
The bleeding youth: Troy sadden'd at the view.
But furious Acamas avenged his cause;
As Promachus his slaughter'd brother draws.
He pierced his heart-Such fate attends you all,
Proud Argives! destined by our arms to fall.
Not Troy alone, but haughty Greece shall share
The toils, the sorrows, and the wounds of war.
Behold your Promachus deprived of breath,
A victim owed to my brave brothers death.
Not unappeased he enters Pluto's gate,
Who leaves a brother to revenge his fate.
Heart-piercing anguish struck the Grecian host,
But touch'd the breast of bold Peneleus most;
Whom Hermes loved, and taught the arts of gain :)
Full in his eye the weapon chanced to fall,
And from the fibres scoop'd the rooted ball,
Drove through the neck, and hurl'd him to the plain:
He lifts his miserable arms in vain!
Swift his broad falchion fierce Peneleus spread,
And from the spouting shoulders struck his head;
To earth at once the head and helmet fly;
The lance, yet sticking through the bleeding eye,
The victor seized; and as aloft he shook
The gory visage, thus insulting spoke:
Trojans! your great Ilioneus behold!
Haste, to his father let the tale be told:
Let his high roofs resound with frantic woe,
Such, as the house of Promachus must know;
Let doleful tidings greet his mother's ear,
Such, as to Promachus' sad spouse we bear;
When we victorious shall to Greece return,
And the pale matron in our triumphs mourn.
Dreadful he spake, then toss'd the head on high;
The Trojans hear, they tremble, and they fly:
Aghast they gaze around the fleet and wall,
And dread the ruin that impends on all.,
Daughters of Jove! on that Olympus shine,
Ye all-beholding, all-recording Nine!
O say, when Neptune made proud Ilion yield,
What chief, what hero, first embued the field?
Of all the Grecians what immortal name,
And whose blest trophies will ye raise to fame?
Thou first, great Ajax! on the ensanguined plain
Laid'st Hyrtius, leader of the Mysian train. -
Phalces and Hermer, Nestor's son o'erthrew.
Bold Merion Morys and Hippotion slew.
Strong Periphates and Prothoon bled,
By Teucer's arrows mingled with the dead.
Pierced in the flank by Menelaus' steel,
His people's pastor, Hyperenor fell;
Eternal darkness wrapt the warrior round,
Juno sions; she is then sent to Iris und Apollo. repairing to the assembly of the gods, attempts with extraordinary address to incense them against Jupiter; in particular she touches Mars with a violent resentment: he is ready to take arms, but is prevented by Minerva. Iris and Apollo obey the orders of Jupiter; Iris cammands Neptune to leave the battle, to which, after much reluctance and passion, he consents. Apollo re-inspires Hector with vigour, brings him back to the battle, marches before him with his ægis, and turns the fortune of the fight. He breaks down great part of the Grecian wall: the Trojans rush in and attempt to fire the first line of the fleet, but are, as yet repelled by the greater Ajax with a prodigious slaughter.
NOW in swift flight they pass the trench profound,
And many a chief lay gasping on the ground:
Then stopp'd and panted, where the chariots lie;
Fear on their cheek, and horror in their eye.
Meanwhile, awaken'd from his dream of love,
On Ida's summit sat imperial Jove:
Round the wide fields he cast a careful view,
There saw the Trojans fly, the Greeks pursue;
These proud in arms, those scatter'd o'er the plain;
And, midst the war, the monarch of the main.
Not far, great Hector on the dust he spies
(His sad associates round with weeping eyes),
Ejecting blood, and panting yet for breath,
His senses wandering to the verge of death.
The god beheld him with a pitying look,
And thus incensed, to fraudful Juno spoke :
O thou, still adverse to the eternal will,
585 For ever studious in promoting ill!
Thy arts have made the godlike Hector yield,
And driven his conquering squadrons from the field. 20
Canst thou, unhappy in thy wiles! withstand
Our power immense, and brave the almighty hand?
590 Hast thou forgot, when, bound and fix'd on high,
From the vast concave of the spangled sky,
I hung thee trembling in a golden chain;
And all the raging gods opposed in vain?
Headlong I hurl'd them from the Olympian hall,
595 Stunn'd in the whirl, and breathless with the fall.
For godlike Hercules these deeds were done,
Nor seem'd the vengeance worthy such a son:
When, by thy wiles induced, fierce Boreas toss'd
The shipwreck'd hero on the Coan coast:
And taught submission to the sire of heaven.
Think'st thou with me, fair empress of the skies?
(The immortal father with a smile replies);
Then soon the haughty sea-god shall obey,
Nor dare to act, but when we point the way.
If truth inspires thy tongue, proclaim our will
To yon bright synod on the Olympian hill:
Our high decree let various Iris know,
And call the god that bears the silver bow.
Let her descend, and from the embattled plain
Command the sea-god to his watry reign:
While Phoebus hastes great Hector to prepare
The fifth-Battle, at the Ships; and the Acts of To rise afresh, and once more wake the war,
Jupiter awaking, sees the Trojans repulsed from the trenches, Hector in a swoon, and Neptune at the head of the Greeks: he is highly incensed at the artifice of Juno, who appeases him by her submis
His labouring bosom re-inspire with breath,
And calls his senses from the verge of death.
Greece chased by Troy e'en to Achilles' fleet,
Shall fall by thousands at the hero's feet.
He, not untouch'd with pity, to the plain
Shall send Patroclus, but shall send in vain.
What youths he slaughters under Ilion's walls
E'en my loved son, divine Sarpedon, falls!
Vanquish'd at last by Hector's lance he lies.
Then, nor till then, shall great Achilles rise:
And lo! that instant godlike Hector dies.
From that great hour the war's whole fortune turns,
Pallas assists, and lofty Ilion burns.
Not till that day shall Jove relax his rage,
Nor one of all the heavenly host engage
In aid of Greece. The promise of a god
I gave, and seal'd it with the almighty nod,
Achilles' glory to the stars to raise;
Such was our word, and Fate the word obeys.
The trembling queen (the almighty order given)
Swift from the Idæan summit shot to heaven.
As some way-faring man, who wanders o'er
In thought a length of lands he trod before,
Sends forth his active mind from place to place,
Joins hill to dale, and measures space with space;
So swift flew Juno to the blest abodes,
If thought of man can match the speed of gods.
There sat the powers in awful synod placed;
They bow'd, and made obeisance as she pass'd,
Through all the brazen dome: with goblets crown'd
They hail her queen; the nectar streams around.
Fair Themis first presents the golden bowl,
And anxious asks what cares disturb her soul?
To whom the white-arm'd goddess thus replies:
Enough thou know'st the tyrant of the skies,
Severely bent his purpose to fulfil,
Unmoved his mind, and unrestrain'd his will.
Go thou, the feasts of heaven attend thy call;
Bid the crown'd nectar circle round the hall;
But Jove shall thunder through the ethereal dome,
Such stern decrees, such threaten'd woes to come,
As soon shall freeze mankind with dire surprise,
And damp the eternal banquets of the skies.
The goddess said, and sullen took her place;
Blank horror sadden'd each celestial face,
To see the gathering grudge in every breast,
Smiles on her lips a spleenful joy express'd ;
While on her wrinkled front, and eye-brow bent,
Sat steadfast care, and lowering discontent.
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The Almighty spoke; the goddess wing'd her flight 190 To sacred Ilion from the Idæan height.
Swift as the rattling hail, or fleecy snows,
Drive through the skies, when Boreas fiercely blows;
So from the clouds descending Iris falls;
And to blue Neptune thus the goddess calls:
Attend the mandate of the sire above,
In me behold the messenger of Jove:
He bids thee from forbidden wars repair
To thy own deeps, or to the fields of air.
This if refused, he bids thee timely weigh
110 His elder birthright, and superior sway.
Thus she proceeds-Attend, ye powers above! But know, 'tis madness to contest with Jove: Supreme he sits and sees, in pride of sway, Your vassal godheads grudgingly obey:
How shall thy rashness stand the dire alarms,
If heaven's omnipotence descend in arms?
Strivest thou with him, by whom all power is given?
And art thou equal to the lord of heaven?
Fierce in the majesty of power controls;
Shakes all the thrones of heaven, and bends the poles.
Submiss immortals! all he wills, obey;
And thou, great Mars, begin and shew the way.
Behold Ascalaphus! behold him die,
But dare not murmur, dare not vent a sigh;
Thy own loved boasted offspring lies o'erthrown,
If that loved boasted offspring be thy own.
Stern Mars, with anguish for his slaughter'd son,
Smote his rebelling breast, and fierce begun :
Thus then, immortals! thus shall Mars obey;
Forgive me, gods, and yield my vengeance way:
Descending first to yon forbidden plain,
The god of battles dares avenge the slain;
Dares, though the thunder bursting o'er my head
Should hurl me blazing on those heaps of dead.
With that, he gives command to Fear and Flight
To join his rapid coursers for the fight:
Then, grim in arms, with hasty vengeance flies;
Arms, that reflect a radiance through the skies.
And now had Jove, by bold rebellion driven,
Discharged his wrath on half the host of heaven;
But Pallas, springing through the bright abode,
Starts from her azure throne to calm the god,
Struck for the immortal race with timely fear,
From frantic Mars she snatch'd the shield and spear;
Then the huge helmet lifting from his head,
Thus to the impetuous homicide she said:
And must I then (said she), O sire of floods!
Bear this fierce answer to the king of gods?
Correct it yet, and change thy rash intent;
A noble mind disdains not to repent.
To elder brothers guardian fiends are given,
To scourge the wretch insulting them and heaven.
Great is the profit (thus the god rejoin'd)
What means the haughty sovereign of the skies?
(The king of ocean thus, incensed, replies).
Rule as he will his portion'd realms on high;
No vassal god, nor of his train, am I.
Three brother deities from Saturn came,
And ancient Rhea, earth's immortal dame :
Assign'd by lot, our triple rule we know ;
Infernal Pluto sways the shades below:
O'er the wide clouds, and o'er the starry plain,
Ethereal Jove extends his high domain;
My court beneath the hoary waves I keep,
And hush the roaring of the sacred deep:
Olympus, and this earth, in common lie:
What claim has here the tyrant of the sky?
Far in the distant clouds let him control,
130 And awe the younger brothers of the pole;
There to his children his commands be given,
The trembling, servile, second race of heaven.
Back to the skies wouldst thou with shame be driven,
And in thy guilt involve the host of heaven?
Ilion and Greece no more shall Jove engage;
The skies would yield an ampler scene of rage,
Guilty and guiltless find an equal fate,
And one vast ruin whelm the Olympian state.
Cease then thy offspring's death unjust to call:
Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.
Why should heaven's law with foolish man comply,
Exempted from the race ordain'd to die?
This menace fix'd the warrior to his throne;
Sullen he sat, and curb'd the rising groan.
140 When ministers are bless'd with prudent mind:
Warn'd by thy words, to powerful Jove I yield,
And quit, though angry, the contended field.
Not but his threats with justice I disclaim,
The same our honours, and our birth the same.
If yet, forgetful of his promise given
To Hermes, Pallas, and the queen of heaven;
To favour Ilion, that perfidious place,
He breaks his faith with half the ethereal race:
Give him to know, unless the Grecian train
Lay yon proud structures level with the plain,
Howe'er the offence by other gods be pass'd,
The wrath of Neptune shall for ever last.
Thus speaking, furious from the field he strode,
And plunged into the bosom of the flood.
And all the gods that round old Saturn dwell,
Had heard the thunders to the deeps of hell.
Well was the crime and well the vengeance spared;
E'en power immense had found such battle hard.
Go thou, my son! the trembling Greeks alarm,
Shake my broad ægis on thy active arm,
Be godlike Hector thy peculiar care,
Swell his bold heart and urge his strength to war:
Let Ilion conquer, till the Achaian train
Fly to their ships and Hellespont again:
Full on the front the pressing Trojans bear,
And Hector first came towering to the war.
Phoebus himself the rushing battle led;
A veil of clouds involved his radiant head:
High-held before him, Jove's enormous shield
Portentous shone, and shaded all the field;
Vulcan to Jove the immortal gift consign'd,
To scatter hosts and terrify mankind.
The Greeks expect the shock, the clamours rise
From different parts, and mingle in the skies.
Dire was the hiss of darts, by heroes flung,
And arrows leaping from the bow-string sung;
These drink the life of generous warriors slain;
Those guiltless fall, and thirst for blood in vain.
As long as Phoebus bore unmoved the shield,
Sat doubtful Conquest hovering o'er the field;
270 But when aloft he shakes it in the skies,
Then Greece shall breathe from toils-The godhead said
His will divine the son of Jove obey'd.
Not half so swift the sailing falcon flies,
That drives a turtle through the liquid skies;
As Phoebus, shooting from the Idæan brow,
Glides down the mountain to the plain below.
There Hector seated by the stream he sees,
His sense returning with the coming breeze;
Again his pulses beat, his spirits rise;
Again his loved companions meet his eyes;
Jove thinking of his pains, they pass'd away.
To whom the god who gives the golden day:
Why sits great Hector from the field so far?
What grief, what wound, withholds thee from the war?
The fainting hero, as the vision bright
Stood shining o'er him, half unseal'd his sight:
What bless'd immortal, with commanding breath,
Thus wakens Hector from the sleep of death?
Has Fame not told, how, while my trusty sword
Bathed Greece in slaughter, and her battle gored,
The mighty Ajax with a deadly blow
Had almost sunk me to the shades below?
E'en yet, methinks, the gliding ghosts I spy,
And hell's black horrors swim before my eye.
To him Apollo: Be no more dismay'd;
See, and be strong! the Thunderer sends thee aid.
Behold! thy Phoebus shall his arms employ,
Phoebus, propitious still to thee and Troy.
Inspire thy warriors then with manly force,
And to the ships impel thy rapid horse :
E'en I will make thy fiery coursers way,
And drive the Grecians headlong to the sea.
Thus to bold Hector spoke the son of Jove,
And breathed immortal ardour from above.
As when the pamper'd steed, with reins unbound,
Breaks from his stall, and pours along the ground;
With ample strokes he rushes to the flood,
To bathe his sides, and cool his fiery blood;
His head now freed, he tosses to the skies;
His mane dishevell'd o'er his shoulders flies:
He snuffs the females in the well-known plain,
And springs, exulting, to his fields again:
Urged by the voice divine, thus Hector flew,
Full of the god; and all his hosts pursue.
As when the force of men and dogs combined
Invade the mountain-goat, or branching hind;
Far from the hunter's rage secure they lie
Close in the rock (not fated yet to die);
When lo a lion shoots across the way!
They fly, at once the chasers and the prey:
Shouts in their ears, and lightens in their eyes.
Deep horror seizes every Grecian breast,
Their force is humbled, and their fear confess'd.
So flies a herd of oxen, scatter'd wide,
No swain to guard them, and no day to guide,
When two fell lions from the mountain come,
And spread the carnage through the shady gloom.
Impending Phoebus pours around them fear,
And Troy and Hector thunder in the rear.
280 Heaps fall on heaps: the slaughter Hector leads;
First great Arcesilas, the Stichius bleeds;
One to the bold Boeotians ever dear,
And one Menestheus' friend, and famed compeer.
Medon and läsus, Æneas sped;
This sprung from Phelus, and the Athenians led:
But hapless Medon from Oileus came ;
Him Ajax honour'd with a brother's name,
295 Pierced through the shoulder as he basely flies.
Polites' arm laid Echius on the plain :
Stretch'd on one heap, the victors spoil the slain.
The Greeks, dismay'd, confused, disperse or fall,
Some seek the trench, some skulk behind the wall.
While these fly trembling, others pant for breath,
And o'er the slaughterer stalks gigantic Death.
On rush'd bold Hector, gloomy as the night;
Forbids to plunder, animates the fight,
Points to the fleet: For, by the gods who flies,
305 Who dares but linger, by this hand he dies;
No weeping sister his cold eye shall close,
No friendly hand his funeral pyre compose.
Who stops to plunder in this signal hour,
The birds shall tear him, and the dogs devour.
Furious he said; the smarting scourge resounds;
The coursers fly; the smoking chariot bounds:
The hosts rush on; loud clamours shake the shore;
The horses thunder, earth and ocean roar!
Apollo, planted at the trench's bound,
320 The wondering crowds the downward level trod;
Before them flamed the shield, and march'd the god
Then with his hand he shook the mighty wall;
And lo! the turrets nod, the bulwarks fall.
Easy, as when ashore an infant stands,
And draws imagined houses in the sands;
The sportive wanton, pleased with some new play,
Sweeps the slight works and fashion'd domes away.
Thus vanish'd, at thy touch, the towers and walls:
The toil of thousands in a moment falls.
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Thoas with grief observed his dreadful course
Thoas, the bravest of the Ætolian force;
Skill'd to direct the javelin's distant flight,
And bold to combat in the standing fight;
Not more in councils famed for solid sense,
Than winning words and heavenly eloquence.
Gods! what portent (he cried) these eyes invades !
Lo Hector rises from the Stygian shades!
We saw him, late, by thundering Ajax kill'd:
What god restores him to the frighted field;
And, not content that half of Greece lie slain,
Pours new destruction on her sons again?
He comes not, Jove! without thy powerful will;
Lo! still he lives, pursues, and conquers still!
Yet hear my counsel, and his worst withstand:
The Greeks' main body to the fleet command;
But let the few whom brisker spirits warm,
Stand the first onset, and provoke the storm:
Thus point your arms; and when such foes appear.
Fierce as he is, let Hector learn to fear.
The warrior spoke, the listening Greeks obey,
Thickening their ranks, and form a deep array.
Each Ajax, Teucer, Merion, gave command,
Tue valiant leader of the Cretan band,
And Mars-like Meges: these the chiefs excite,
Approach the foe, and meet the coming fight.
Behind, unnumber'd multitudes attend,
To flank the navy, and the shores defend.
O Jove! if ever, on this native shore,
One Greek enrich'd thy shrine with offer'd gore:
If e'er, in hope our country to behold,
We paid the fattest firstlings of the fold;
340 If e'er thou sign'st our wishes with thy nod.
Perform the promise of a gracious god!
This day preserve our navies from the flame,
And save the reliques of the Grecian name.
Thus pray'd the sage: the Eternal gave consent,
345 And peals of thunder shake the firmament;
Presumptuous Troy mistook the accepting sign,
And catch'd new fury at the voice divine.
As, when black tempests mix the seas and skies,
The roaring deeps in watry mountains rise,
Above the sides of some tall ship ascend,
Its womb they deluge, and its ribs they rend :
Thus loudly roaring, and o'erpowering all,
Mount the thick Trojans up the Grecian wall;
Legions on legions from each side arise:
Thick sound the keels; the storm of arrows flies.
Fierce on the ships above, the cars below,
These wield the mace, and those the javelin throw.
While thus the thunder of the battle raged,
And labouring armies round the works engaged,
Still in the tent Patroclus sat, to tend
The good Eurypylus, his wounded friend.
He sprinkles healing balms to anguish kind,
And adds discourse, the medicine of the mind.
But when he saw, ascending up the fleet,
Victorious Troy: then, starting from his seat,
With bitter groans his sorrows he express'd,
He wrings his hands, he beats his manly breast.
Though yet thy state require redress (he cried)
Depart I must: what horrors strike mine eyes!
Charged with Achilles' high commands I go,
A mournful witness of this scene of woe:
I haste to urge him, by his country's care,
To rise in arms and shine again in war.
Perhaps some favouring god his soul may bend;
The voice is powerful of a faithful friend.
Through his fair neck the thrilling arrow files; In youth's fair bloom reluctantly he dies. 440 Hurl'd from the lofty seat, at distance far, The headlong coursers spurn his empty car. Till sad Polydamas the steeds restrain'd, And gave, Astynous, to thy careful hand; Then, fired to vengeance, rush'd amidst the foe,
445 Rage edged his sword, and strengthen'd every blow. 535
Once more bold Teucer, in his country's cause,
At Hector's breast a chosen arrow draws;
And had the weapon found the destined way,
Thy fall, great Trojan! had renown'd that day.
But Hector was not doom'd to perish then:
The all-wise Disposer of the fates of men
(Imperial Jove) his present death withstands;
Nor was such glory due to Teucer's hands.
At its full stretch as the tough string he drew,
455 Struck by an arm unseen, it burst in two;
Down dropp'd the bow: the shaft with brazen head
Fell innocent, and on the dust lay dead.
The astonish'd archer to great Ajax cries:
Some god prevents our destined enterprise;
160 Some god, propitious to the Trojan foe,
He spoke and speaking, swifter than the wind
Sprung from the tent, and left the war behind.
The embodied Greeks the fierce attack sustain,
But strive, though numerous, to repulse in vain!
Nor could the Trojans, through that firm array,
Force to the fleet and tents the impervious way.
As when a shipwright, with Palladian art,
Smoothes the rough wood, and levels every part;
With equal hand he guides his whole design,
By the just rule, and the directing line:
The martial leaders, with like skill and care,
Preserved their line, and equal kept the war.
Brave deeds of arms through all the ranks were tried 480
And every ship sustain'd an equal tide.
At one proud bark, high towering o'er the fleet,
Ajax the great and godlike Hector meet;
Has from my arm unfailing, struck the bow, And broke the nerve my hands had twined with art, Strong to impel the flight of many a dart. Since Heaven commands it (Ajax made reply) 465 Dismiss thy bow, and lay thy arrows by; (Thy arms no less suffice the lance to wield) And quit the quiver for the pondrous shield. In the first ranks indulge thy thirst of fame, Thy brave example shall the rest inflame. 470 Fierce as they are, by long successes vain; To force our fleet, or e'en a ship to gain, Asks toil, and sweat, and blood: their utmost might Shall find its match-no more; 'tis ours to fight. Then Teucer laid his faithless bow aside; 475 The fourfold buckler o'er his shoulder tied, On his brave head a crested helm he placed, With nodding horse-hair formidably graced; A dart, whose point with brass refulgent shines, The warrior wields; and his great brother joins. This Hector saw, and thus express'd his joy: Ye troops of Lycia, Dardanus, and Troy! Be mindful of yourselves, your ancient fame, And spread your glory with the navy's flame. Jove is with us; I saw his hand but now, From the proud archer strike his vaunted bow. Indulgent Jove; how plain thy favours shine, When happy nations bear the marks divine! How easy then, to see the sinking state Of realms accursed, deserted, reprobate! Such is the fate of Greece, and such is ours; Behold, ye warriors, and exert your powers. Death is the worst; a fate which all must try; And, for our country, 'tis a bliss to die. The gallant man, though slain in fight he be, Yet leaves his nation safe, his children free; Entails a debt on all the grateful state; His own brave friends shall glory in his fate; His wife live honour'd, all his race succeed And late posterity enjoy the deed!
For one bright prize the matchless chiefs contend;
Nor this the ships can fire, nor that defend,
Thundering he falls, and drops the extinguish'd fires. Great Hector view'd him with a sad survey,
Lo! where the son of royal Clytius lies;
Ah save his arms, secure his obsequies.
This said, his eager javelin sought the foe:
But Ajax shunn'd the meditated blow.
Not vainly yet the forceful lance was thrown ;
It stretch'd in dust unhappy Lycophron:
An exile long, sustain'd at Ajax' board,
A faithful servant to a foreign lord;
In peace, in war, for ever at his side,
Near his loved master, as he lived, he died.
From the high poop he tumbles on the sand,
And lies, a lifeless load, along the land.
With anguish Ajax views the piercing sight,
And thus inflames his brother to the fight:
Teucer, behold! extended on the shore
This roused the soul in every Trojan breast. The godlike Ajax next his Greeks address'd: How long ye warriors of the Argive race! (To generous Argos what a dire disgrace !), How long on these cursed confines will ye lie. 505 Yet undetermined or to live, or die?
What hopes remain, what methods to retire,
If once your vessels catch the Trojan fire?
Mark how the flames approach, how near they falt,
How Hector calls, and Troy obeys his call!
Our friend, our loved companion! now no more!
Dear as a parent, with a parent's care
To fight our wars, he left his native air.
This death deplored, to Hector's rage we owe;
Revenge, revenge it on the cruel foe.
510 Not to the dance that dreadful voice invites, It calls to death, and all the rage of fights. "Tis now no time for wisdom or debates; To your own hands are trusted all your fates; And better far in one decisive strife,
Where are those darts on which the Fates attend?
And where the bow which Phoebus taught to bend?
Impatient Teucer hastening to his aid,
Before the chief his ample bow display'd;
The well-stored quiver on his shoulders hung:
Then hiss'd his arrow, and the bow-string sung.
Clytus, Pisenor's son, renown'd in fame
(To thee, Polydamas! an honour'd name),
Drove through the thickest of the embattled plains
The startling steeds, and shook his eager reins.
As all on glory ran his ardent mind,
The pointed death arrests him from behind.
One day should end our labour, or our life;
Than keep this hard-got inch of barren sands,
Still press'd, and press'd by such inglorious hands.
The listening Grecians feel their leader's flame,
And every kindling bosom pants for fame.
520 Then mutual slaughters spread on either side;
By Hector here the Phocian Schedius died;
There, pierced by Ajax, sunk Laodamas,
Chief of the foot, of old Antenor's race.
Polydamas laid Otus on the sand,
The fierce commander of the Epeian band.
His lance bold Meges at the victor threw;
The victor stooping, from the death withdrew:
That valued fe, O Phoebus! was thy care) But Crosmus' bosom took the flying spear: His corpse fell bleeding on the slippery shore; His radiant arms triumphant Meges bore. Dolops, the son of Lampus, rushes on, Sprung from the race of old Laomedon, And famed for prowess in a well-fought field; He pierced the centre of his sounding shield: But Meges Phyleus' ample breast-plate wore (Well known in fight on Selle's winding shore; For king Euphetes gave the golden mail, Compact, and firm with many a jointed scale ;) Which oft, in cities storm'd, and battles won, Had saved the father, and now saves the son, Full at the Trojan's head he urged his lance, Where the high plumes above the helmet dance, New tinged with Tyrian dye; in dust below, Shorn from the crest, the purple honours glow. Meantime their fight the Spartan king survey'd, And stood by Meges' side, a sudden aid, Through Dolops' shoulder urged his forceful dart, Which held its passage through the panting heart, And issued at his breast. With thundering sound The warrior falls, extended on the ground. In rush the conquering Greeks to spoil the slain: But Hector's voice excites his kindred train; The hero most, from Hicetaon sprung, Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and young. He (ere to Troy the Grecians cross'd the main) Fed his large oxen on Percotè's plain ; But when, oppress'd, his country claim'd his care, Return'd to Ilion, and excell'd in war; For this, in Priam's court he held his place, Beloved no less than Priam's royal race. Him Hector singled, as his troops he led, And thus inflamed him, pointing to the dead: Lo, Melanippus! lo where Dolops lies: And is it thus our royal kinsman dies? O'ermatch'd he falls; to two at once a prey, And lo! they bear the bloody arms away! Come on a distant war no longer wage, But hand to hand thy country's foes engage: Till Greece at once, and all her glory end; Or Ilion from her towery height descend, Heaved from the lowest stone; and bury all In one sad sepulchre, one common fall.
Hector (this said) rush'd forward on the foes:
With equal ardour Melanippus glows.
Then Ajax thus-Oh Greeks! respect your fame,
Respect yourselves, and learn an honest shame:
Let mutual reverence mutual warmth inspire,
And catch from breast to breast the noble fire.
Qn valour's side the odds of combat lie,
The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
The wretch that trembles in the field of fame,
Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame.
His generous sense he not in vain imparts;
It sunk, and rooted in the Grecian hearts:
They join, they throng, they thicken at his call,
And flank the navy with a brazen wall;
Shields touching shields, in order blaze above,
And stop the Trojans though impell'd by Jove.
The fiery Spartan first, with loud applause,
Warms the bold son of Nestor in his cause.
Is there (he said) in arms a youth like you,
So strong to fight, so active to pursue?
Why stand you distant, nor attempt a deed?
Lift thy bold lance, and make some Trojan bleed.
He said; and backward to the lines retired;
Forth rush'd the youth, with martial fury fired,
Beyond the foremost ranks; his lance he threw,
And round the black battalions cast his view.
The troops of Troy recede with sudden fear,
While the swift javelin hiss'd along in air.
Advancing Melanippus met the dart
With his bold breast, and felt it in his heart;
Thundering he falls; his falling arms resound,
And his broad buckler rings against the ground.
The victor leaps upon his prostrate prize;
Thus on a roe the well-breathed beagle flies,
And rends his side, fresh-bleeding with the dart
The distant hunter sent into his heart.
Observing Hector to the rescue flew ;
Bold as he was, Antilochus withdrew.
So when a savage, ranging o'er the plain,
Has torn the shepherd's dog, or shepherd swain,
While, conscious of the deed, he glares around,
And hears the gathering multitude resound,
Timely he flies the yet untasted food,
And gains the friendly shelter of the wood.
So fears the youth; all Troy with shouts pursue,
While stones and darts in mingled tempests fiew;
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645 Due to stern Pallas, and Pelides' spear:
Yet Jove deferr'd the death he was to pay,
And gave what Fate allow'd, the honours of a day!
Now all on fire for fame, his breast, his eyes
Burn at each foe, and single every prize,
650 Still at the closest ranks, the thickest fight,
He points his ardour, and exerts his might.
The Grecian Phalanx, moveless as a tower,
On all sides batter'd, yet resists his power:
So some tall rock o'erhangs the hoary main,
655 By winds assail'd, by billows beat in vain,
Unmoved it hears, above, the tempest blow,
And sees the watry mountains break below.
Girt in surrounding flames, he seems to fall,
Like fire from Jove, and bursts upon them all:
660 Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud: 755
Pale, trembling, tired, the sailors freeze with fears;
665 And instant death on every wave appears.
So pale the Greeks the eyes of Hector meet,
The chief so thunders, and so shakes the fleet.
As when a lion rushing from his den,
Amidst the plain of some wide-water'd fen
670 (Where numerous oxen, as at ease they feed,
At large expatiate o'er the ranker mead);
Leap on the herds before the herdsman's eyes:
The trembling herdsman far to distance flies:
Some lordly bull (the rest dispersed and fled)
He singles out; arrests, and lays him dead.
Thus from the rage of Jove-like Hector flew
All Greece in heaps; but one he seized, and slew:
Mycenian Periphes, a mighty name,
In wisdom great, in arms well known to fame; 680 The minister of stern Eurystheus' ire,
Against Alcides, Copreus was his sire:
The son redeem'd the honours of the race,
A son as generous as the sire was base;
O'er all his country's youth conspicuous far
685 In every virtue, or of peace or war:
But doom'd to Hector's stronger force to yield!
Against the margin of his ample shield
He struck his hasty foot: his heels up-sprung;
Supine he fell; his brazen helmet rung.
690 On the fallen chief the invading Trojan press'd,
And plunged the pointed javelin in his breast.
His circling friends, who strove to guard too late
The unhappy hero, fled, or shared his fate.
Chased from the foremost line, the Grecian train
695 Now man the next, receding toward the main:
Wedged in one body at the tents they stand,
Wall'd round with sterns, a gloomy desperate band.
Now manly shame forbids the inglorious flight;
Now fear itself confines them to the fight:
700 Man courage breathes in man; but Nestor most
(The sage preserver of the Grecian host)
Exhorts, adjures, to guard these utmost shores;
And by their parents, by themselves, implores.
O friends! be men: your generous breasts inflame
705 With equal honour, and with mutual shame!
Think of your hopes, your fortunes; all the care Your wives, your infants, and your parents share: Think of each living father's reverend head: Think of each ancestor with glory dead;
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