With Philoctetes sail'd, whose matchless art
From the tough bow directs the feather'd dart.
Seven were his ships; each vessel fifty row,
Skill'd in his science of the dart and bow:
But he lay raging on the Lemnian ground;
A poisonous Hydra gave the burning wound;
There groan'd the chief in agonising pain,
Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in
vain.
His forces Medon led from Lemnos' shore,
Oïleus' son, whom beauteous Rhena bore.
The Echalian race, in those high towers con-
tain'd,
Where once Eurytus in proud triumph reign'd,
Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears,
Or where Ithomè, rough with rocks, appears,
In thirty sail the sparkling waves divide,
Which Podalirius and Machaon guide.
To these his skill their parent-god* imparts,
Divine professors of the healing arts.
The bold Ormenian and Asterian bands
In forty barks Eurypylus commands,
Where Titan hides his hoary head in snow,
And where Hyperia's silver fountains flow.
Thy troops, Argissa, Polypates leads,
And Eleon, shelter'd by Olympus' shades.
Gyrtone's warriors: and where Orthè lies,
And Oleösson's chalky cliffs arise.
Sprung from Pirithous of immortal race,
The fruit of fair Hippodamè's embrace,
But Thetis' son now shines in arms no more:
His troops, neglected on the sandy shore,
In empty air their sportive javelins throw,
Or whirl the disk, or bend an idle bow:
Unstain'd with blood his cover'd chariots stand;
The immortal coursers graze along the strand;
But the brave chiefs the inglorious life deplored,
And wandering o'er the camp, required their lord.
Now, like a deluge, covering all around,
The shining armies swept along the ground;
Swift as a flood of fire, when storms arise,
Floats the wide field, and blazes to the skies.
Earth groan'd beneath them; as when angry Jove 950
Hurls down the forky lightning from above,
On Arimè when he the thunder throws,
And fires Typhæus with redoubled blows,
Where Typhon, press'd beneath the burning load,
Still feels the fury of the avenging god.
But various Iris, Jove's commands to bear,
Speeds on the wings of winds through liquid air:
In Priam's porch the Trojan chiefs she found,
The old consulting, and the youths around.
Polites' shape, the monarch's son, she chose,
Who from Esetes' tomb observed the foes,
High on the mound; from whence in prospect lay
The fields, the tents, the navy, and the bay.
In this dissembled form, she hastes to bring
The unwelcome message to the Phrygian king.
Cease to consult; the time for action calls;
War, horrid war, approaches to your walls!
(That day, when hurl'd from Pelion's cloudy head, Assembled armies oft have I beheld,
To distant dens the shaggy Centaurs fled,)
With Polypetes join'd in equal sway
Leonteus leads, and forty ships obey.
In twenty sail the bold Perrhæbians came
From Cyphus; Guneus was their leader's name.
With these the Enians join'd, and those who freeze
Where cold Dodona lifts her holy trees;
Or where the pleasing Titaresius glides,
And into Peneus rolls his easy tides;
Yet o'er the silver surface pure they flow,
The sacred stream unmix'd with streams below,
Sacred and awful! From the dark abodes
Styx pours them forth, the dreadful oath of gods!
Last under Prothous the Magnesians stood,
Prothous the swift, of old Tenthedron's blood,
Who dwell where Pelion, crown'd with piny boughs,
Obscures the glade, and nods his shaggy brows;
Or where through flowery Tempé Peneus stray'd, 920
(The region stretch'd beneath his mighty shade.)
In forty sable barks they stemm'd the main;
Such were the chiefs, and such the Grecian train.
Say next, O Muse! of all Achaia breeds,
Who bravest fought, or rein'd the noblest steeds?
Eumelus' mares were foremost in the chase,
As eagles fleet, and of Pheretian race:
Bred where Pieria's fruitful fountains flow,
And train'd by him who bears the silver bow.
Fierce in the fight, their nostrils breath'd a flame, 930
Their height, their colour, and their age the same;
O'er fields of death they whirl the rapid car,
And break the ranks, and thunder through the war.
Ajax in arms the first renown acquired.
While stern Achilles in his wrath retired:
(His was the strength that mortal might exceeds,
And his the unrival'd race of heavenly steeds.)
But ne'er till now such numbers charged a field.
Thick as autumnal leaves or driving sand,
The moving squadrons blacken all the strand.
Thou, godlike Hector! all thy force employ,
Assemble all the united bands of Troy;
In just array let every leader call
The foreign troops: this day demands them all.
The voice divine the mighty chief alarms:
The council breaks, the warriors rush to arms.
The gates unfolding pour forth all their train,
Nations on nations fill the dusky plain.
Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling ground!
The tumult thickens, and the skies resound.
Amidst the plain in sight of Ilion stands
A rising mount, the work of human hands.
(This for Myrinné's tomb the immortals know,
Though call'd Bateïa in the world below ;)
Beneath their chiefs in martial order here,
The auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear.
The godlike Hector, high above the rest,
Shakes his huge spear, and nods his plumy crest:
In throngs around his native bands repair,
And groves of lances glitter in the air.
Divine Æneas brings the Dardan race,
Anchises' son by Venus' stolen embrace,
Born in the shades of Ida's secret grove,
(A mortal mixing with the queen of love.)
Archilochus and Acamas divide
The warrior's toils, and combat by his side.
Who fair Zeleia's wealthy valleys till,
Fast by the foot of Ida's sacred hill,
Or drink, Æsepus, of thy sable flood,
Were led by Pandarus of royal blood;
To whom his art Apollo deign'd to show,
Graced with the presents of his shafts and bow.
From rich Apæsus and Adrestia's towers,
High Teree's summits, and Pityea's bowers;
From these the congregated troops obey
Young Amphius and Adrastus' equal sway:
Old Merop's sons; whom, skill'd in fates to come,
The sire forewarn'd, and prophesied their doom:
Fate urged them on; the sire forewarn'd in vain, 1010
They rush'd to war, and perish'd on the plain.
From Practius' stream, Percoté's pasture lands,
And Sestos' and Abydos' neighbouring strands,
From great Arisba's walls and Sellé's coast,
Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host:
High on his car he shakes the flowing reins,
His fiery coursers thunder o'er the plains.
The fierce Pelasgi next, in war renown'd,
March from Larissa's ever-fertile ground:
In equal arms their brother leaders shine,
Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine.
Next Acamus and Pyrous lead their hosts,
In dread array, from Thracia's wintry coasts;
Round the bleak realms where Hellespontus roars,
And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding shores.
With great Euphemus the Ciconians move,
Sprung from Trazenian Ceus, loved by Jove.
Pyræchmes the Pæonian troops attend,
Skill'd in the fight, their crooked bows to bend ;
From Axius' ample bed he leads them on,
Axius, that laves the distant Amydon;
Axius, that swells with all his neighbouring rills,
And wide around the floating region fills.
The Paphlagonians Pylmenes rules,
Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules,
Where Erythinus' rising cliffs are seen,
Thy groves of box, Cytorus! ever green;
And where Ægialus and Cromna lie,
And lofty Seramus invades the sky;
And where Parthenius, roll'd through banks of flowers,
Reflects her bordering palaces and bowers.
Here march'd in arms the Halizonian band, Whom Odius and Epistrophus command, From those far regions where the sun refines The ripening silver in Alybean mines.
The Duel of Menelaus and Paris.
The armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon between Menelaus and Paris (by the intervention of Hector) for the determination of the Iris is sent to call Helen to behold the fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam sat with his counsellors, observing the Grecian leaders on the plain below, to whom Helen gives an account of the chief of them. The kings on either part take the solemn oath for the conditions of the combat. The duel ensues, wherein Paris being overcome, is snatched away in a cloud by Venus, and transported to his apartment. She then calls Helen from the walls, and brings the lovers together. Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians, demands the restoration of Helen, and the performance of the articles.
The three-and-twentieth day still continues throughout this book. The scene is sometimes in the fields before Troy, and sometimes in Troy itself.
THUS by their leader's care each martial band
Moves into ranks, and stretches o'er the land.
With shouts the Trojans rushing from afar,
Proclaim their motions, and provoke the war:
So when inclement winters vex the plain
With piercing frosts, or thick descending rain,
To warmer seas the cranes embodied fly,
With noise, and order, through the mid-way sky:
To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring,
And all the war descends upon the wing.
But silent, breathing rage, resolved and skill'd
By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field,
1041 Swift march the Greeks: the rapid dust around
Darkening arises from the labour'd ground.
Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds
A night of vapours round the mountain-heads,
Swift-gliding mists the dusky fields invade,
To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade;
While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey,
Lost and confused amidst the thicken'd day:
So wrapt in gathering dust, the Grecian train,
1050 A moving cloud, swept on, and hid the plain.
Now front to front the hostile armies stand,
Eager of fight, and only wait command;
When, to the van, before the sons of fame
Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came,
In form a god! the panther's speckled hide
Flow'd o'er his armour with an easy pride,
His bended bow across his shoulders flung,
His sword beside him negligently hung;
Two pointed spears he shook with gallant grace,
And dared the bravest of the Grecian race.
There, mighty Chromis led the Mysian train,
And augur Ennomus, inspired in vain ;
For stern Achilles lopp'd his sacred head,
Roll'd down Scamander with the vulgar dead.
Phorcys and brave Ascanius here unite
The Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the fight.
Of those who round Mæonia's realms reside,
Or whom the vales in shade of Tmolus hide,
Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake;
Born on the banks of Gyges' silent lake.
There, from the fields where wild Mæander flows,
High Mycalé, and Latmos' shady brows,
And proud Miletus, came the Carian throngs,
With mingled clamours, and with barbarous tongues.
Amphimacus and Naustes guide the train, 1060
Naustes the bold, Amphymacus the vain,
Who, trick'd with gold, and glittering on his car,
Rode like a woman to the field of war;
Fool that he was! by fierce Achilles slain,
The river swept him to the briny main:
There whelm'd with waves the gaudy warrior
lies;
The valiant victor seized the golden prize.
The forces last in fair array succeed,
Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead;
The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields,
Where gulfy Xanthus foams along the fields.
As thus, with glorious air and proud disdain,
He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain,
Him Menelauis, loved of Mars, espies,
With heart elated, and with joyful eyes:
So joys a lion, if the branching deer,
Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear;
Eager he seizes and devours the slain,
Press'd by bold youths and baying dogs in vain.
Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound,
In clanging arms he leaps upon the ground
1070 From his high chariot: him, approaching near,
The beauteous champion views with marks of fear;
Smit with a conscious sense, retires behind,
And shuns the fate he well deserved to find.
As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees,
Shot forth to view, a scaly serpent sees,
Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright,
And all confused, precipitates his flight:
So from the king the shining warrior flies,
And plunged amid the thickest Trojans lies.
As godlike Hector sees the prince retreat,
He thus upbraids him with a generous heat :
Unhappy Paris! but to woman brave!
So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!
Oh! hadst thou died when first thou saw'st the light,
Or died at least before thy nuptual rite!
He said. The challenge Hector heard with joy,
Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy, 110
Held by the midst, athwart, and near the foe
Advanced with steps majestically slow:
While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour
50 Their stones and arrows in a mingled shower.
Then thus the monarch, great Atrides, cry'd;
Forbear, ye warriors! lay the darts aside :
A parley Hector asks, a message bears;
We know him by the various plume he wears.
Awed by his high command the Greeks attend,
The tumult silence, and the fight suspend.
A better fate than vainly thus to boast,
And fly, the scandal of thy Trojan host.
Gods! how the scornful Greeks exult to see
Their fears of danger undeceived in thee!
Thy figure promised with a martial air,
But ill thy soul supplies a form so fair.
In former days, in all thy gallant pride,
When thy tall ships triumphant stemm'd the tide,
When Greece beheld thy painted canvass flow,
And crowds stood wondering at the passing show,
Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien,
You met the approaches of the Spartan queen?
Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize,
And both her warlike lords outshined in Helen's
eyes?
This deed, thy foes' delight, thy own disgrace,
Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race;
This deed recalls thee to the proffer'd fight:
Or hast thou injured whom thou darest not right?
Soon to thy cost the field would make thee know
Thou keep'st the consort of a braver foe.
Thy graceful form instilling soft desire,
Thy curling tresses, and thy silver lyre,
Beauty and youth; in vain to these you trust,
When youth and beauty shall be laid in dust:
Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow
Crush the dire author of his country's woe.
His silence here, with blushes, Paris breaks:
"Tis just, my brother, what your anger speaks;
But who like thee can boast a soul sedate,
So firmly proof to all the shocks of fate!
Thy force like steel a temper'd hardness shows,
Still edged to wound, and still untired with blows,
Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain,
With falling woods to strew the wasted plain.
Thy gifts I praise; nor thou despise the charms
With which a lover golden Venus arms;
Soft moving speech, and pleasing outward show,
No wish can gain them, but the gods bestow.
Yet, wouldst thou have the proffer'd combat stand,
The Greeks and Trojans seat on either hand;
Then let a mid-way space our hosts divide,
And, on that stage of war, the cause be tried:
By Paris there the Spartan king be fought,
For beauteous Helen and the wealth she brought:
And who his rival can in arms subdue,
His be the fair, and his the treasure too.
Thus with a lasting league your toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace;
Thus may the Greeks review their native shore,
Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more.
While from the centre Hector rolls his eyes
On either host, and thus to both applies:
Hear, all ye Trojans, all ye Grecian bands!
What Paris, author of the war, demands.
60 Your shining swords within the sheath restrain,
And pitch your lances in the yielding plain.
Here in the midst, in either army's sight,
He dares the Spartan king to single fight;
And wills, that Helen and the ravish'd spoil,
That caused the contest, shall reward the toil. 130
Let these the brave triumphant victor grace,
And differing nations part in leagues of peace.
He spoke in still suspense on either side
Each army stood:-the Spartan chief replied:
Me too, ye warriors, hear, whose fatal right
A world engages in the toils of fight.
To me the labour of the field resign;
Me Paris injured; all the war be mine.
Fall he that must, beneath his rival's arms;
And live the rest, secure of future harms.
Two lambs, devoted by our country's rite,
To Earth a sable, to the Sun a white,
Prepare, ye Trojans ! while a third we bring,
Select to Jove, the inviolable king.
Let reverend Priam in the truce engage,
80 And add the sanction of considerate age;
His sons are faithless, headlong in debate,
And youth itself an empty wavering state:
Cool age advances venerably wise,
Turns on all hands its deep-discerning eyes;
Sees what befell, and what may yet befall,
Concludes from both, and best provides for all.
The nations hear, with rising hopes possess'd,
And peaceful prospects dawn in every breast.
Within the lines they draw their steeds around,
90 And from their chariots issued on the ground:
Next all unbuckling the rich mail they wore,
Laid their bright arms along the sable shore.
On either side the meeting hosts are seen
With lances fix'd, and close the space between. 160
Two heralds now despatch'd to Troy, invite
The Phrygian monarch to the peaceful rite;
Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring
The lamb for Jove, the inviolable king.
Meantime, to beauteous Helen, from the skies,
100 The various goddess of the rainbow flies,
(Like fair Laodicé in form and face,
The loveliest nymph of Priam's royal race.)
Her in the palace, at her loom she found ;
170
The golden web her own sad story crown'd.
The Trojan wars she weaved (herself the prize)
And the dire triumphs of her fatal eyes.
To whom the goddess of the painted bow :
Approach, and view the wondrous scene below!
Each hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight,
So dreadful late, and furious for the fight,
Now rest their spears, or lean upon their shields,
Ceased is the war, and silent all the fields.
Paris alone and Sparta's king advance,
In single fight to toss the beamy lance;
Each met in arms, the fate of combat tries,
Thy love the motive, and thy charms the prize.
This said, the many-colour'd maid inspires
Her husband's love, and wakes her former fires :
Her country, parents, all that once were dear,
Rush to her thought, and force a tender tear.
O'er her fair face a snowy veil she threw,
And, softly sighing, from the loom withdrew:
Her handmaids Clymenè and Ethra wait
Her silent footsteps to the Scean gate.
There sat the seniors of the Trojan race
(Old Priam's chiefs, and most in Priam's grace :)
The king the first; Thymates at his side;
Lampus and Clytius, long in counsel tried;
Panthus and Hicetäon, once the strong;
And next, the wisest of the reverend throng,
Antenor grave, and sage Ucalegon,
Lean'd on the walls, and bask'd before the sun.
Chiefs, who no more in bloody fight engage,
But wise through time, and narrative with age,
In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice,
A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.hk/books/content?id=gzIhAAAAMAAJ&hl=zh-TW&output=html_text&pg=PA233&img=1&zoom=3&q=Hector&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U2MejZq1Txdo7w8tE60y6xJwsACFg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=429,81,530,169)
And strength of numbers, to this Grecian race.
This said, once more he view'd the warrior train :
What's he, whose arms lie scatter'd on the plain;
Broad is his breast, his shoulders larger spread,
Though great Atrides overtops his head.
Nor yet appear his care and conduct small:
190 From rank to rank he moves, and orders all.
The stately ram thus measures o'er the ground,
And, master of the flock, surveys them round.
Then Helen thus: whom your discerning eyes
Have singled out, is Ithacus the wise:
A barren island boasts his glorious birth:
His fame for wisdom fills the spacious earth.
Antenor took the word, and thus began:
Myself, O king! have seen that wondrous man,
When trusting Jove and hospitable laws,
200 To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause,
(Great Menelaus urged the same request ;)
My house was honour'd with each royal guest: 270
These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the tower, I knew their persons, and admired their parts,
In secret own'd resistless beauty's power:
They cried, No wonder, such celestial charms
For nine long years have set the world in arms;
What winning graces! what majestic mien!
She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen!
Yet hence, oh Heaven! convey that fatal face,
And from destruction save the Trojan race.
The good old Priam welcomed her; and cried,
Approach, my child, and grace thy father's side.
See on the plain thy Grecian spouse appears,
The friends and kindred of thy former years.
No crime of thine our present sufferings draws,
Not thou, but Heaven's disposing will, the cause;
The gods these armies and this force employ,
The hostile gods conspire the fate of Troy.
But lift thy eyes, and say, what Greek is he
(Far as from hence these aged orbs can see)
Around whose brow such martial graces shine,
So tall, so awful, and almost divine?
Both brave in arms, and both approved in arts.
Erect, the Spartan most engaged our view:
Ulysses, seated, greater reverence drew.
When Atreus' son harangued the listening train,
Just was his sense, and his expression plain;
His words succinct, yet full, without a fault;
210 He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.
But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound,
His modest eyes he fix'd upon the ground,
As one unskill'd, or dumb, he seem'd to stand,
Nor raised his head, nor stretch'd his scepter'd hand :
But, when he speaks, what elocution flows!
Soft as the fleeces of descending snows,
The copious accents fall, with easy art;
Melting they fall, and sink into the heart!
Wondering we hear, and, fix'd in deep surprise,
220 Our ears refute the censure of our eyes.
Though some of larger stature tread the green,
None match his grandeur and exalted mien :
He seems a monarch, and his country's pride.
Thus ceased the king, and thus the fair replied:
Before thy presence, father, I appear
With conscious shame and reverential fear.
Ah! had I died, ere to these walls I fled,
False to my country, and my nuptial bed;
My brothers, friends, and daughter left behind,
False to them all, to Paris only kind!
For this I mourn, till grief or dire disease
Shall waste the form whose crime it was to please.
The king of kings, Atrides, you survey,
Great in the war, and great in arts of sway;
My brother once, before my days of shame;
And oh that still he bore a brother's name!
With wonder Priam view'd the godlike man,
Extoll'd the happy prince, and thus began:
O bless'd Atrides! born to prosperous fate,
Successful monarch of a mighty state!
How vast thy empire! of yon matchless train
What numbers lost, what numbers yet remain '
The king then ask'd (as yet the camp he view'd) What chief is that, with giant strength endued, 290 Whose brawny shoulders, and whose swelling chest, And lofty stature, far exceed the rest?
Ajax the great (the beauteous queen replied)
Himself a host: the Grecian strength and pride.
See! bold Idomeneus superior towers
Amidst yon circle of his Cretan powers,
Great as a god! I saw him once before,
230 With Menelaus, on the Spartan shore.
The rest I know and could in order name:
All valiant chiefs, and men of mighty fame.
Yet two are wanting of the numerous train,
Whom long my eyes have sought, but sought in vain :
Castor and Pollux, first in martial force,
One bold on foot, and one renown'd for horse.
My brothers these; the same our native shore,
One house contain'd us, as one mother bore.
Perhaps the chiefs, from warlike toils at ease,
240 For distant Troy refused to sail the seas:
Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel draws,
Ashamed to combat in their sister's cause.
So spoke the fair, nor knew her brothers' doom,
Wrapt in the cold embraces of the tomb;
Adorn'd with honours in their native shore,
Silent they slept, and heard of wars no more.
Meantime the heralds through the crowded town,
Bring the rich wine and destined victims down,
Idæus' arms the golden goblets press'd,
Who thus the venerable king address'd:
Arise, O father of the Trojan state!
The nations call, thy joyful people wait
To seal the truce and end the dire debate.
Paris thy son, and Sparta's king advance,
In measured lists to toss the weighty lance;
And who his rival shall in arms subdue,
His be the dame, and his the treasure too.
Thus with a lasting league our toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace;
So shall the Greeks review their native shore,
Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more.
With grief he heard, and bade the chief prepare
To join his milk-white coursers to the car:
He mounts the seat, Antenor at his side;
Ye Greeks and Trojans, let the chiefs engage,
But spare the weakness of my feeble age:
In yonder walls that object let me shun,
Nor view the danger of so dear a son.
Whose arms shall conquer, and what prince shall fall,
Heaven only knows, for Heaven disposes all.
This said, the hoary king no longer stay'd,
320 But on his car the slaughter'd victims laid;
Then seized the reins his gentle steeds to guide,
And drove to Troy, Antenor at his side.
Bold Hector and Ulysses now dispose
The lists of combat, and the ground enclose;
Next to decide by sacred lots prepare,
Who first shall launch his pointed spear in air.
The people pray with elevated hands,
The gentle steeds through Seæa's gates they guide:
Next from the car descending on the plain,
Amid the Grecian host and Trojan train
Slow they proceed: the sage Ulysses then
Arose, and with him rose the king of men.
On either side a sacred herald stands,
The wine they mix, and on each monarch's hands
Pour the full urn; then draws the Grecian lord 340
His cutlass, sheath'd beside his ponderous sword;
From the sign'd victims crops the curling hair,
The heralds part it and the princes share;
Then loudly thus before the attentive bands
He calls the gods, and spreads his lifted hands:
O first and greatest power! whom all obey,
Who high on Ida's holy mountain sway,
Eternal Jove! and you bright orb that roll
From east to west, and view from pole to pole!
Thou mother Earth! and all ye living Floods;
Infernal Furies! and Tartarian Gods,
Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare
For perjured kings, and all who falsely swear!
Hear, and be witness. If by Paris slain,
Great Menelaus press, the fatal plain,
The dame and treasures let the Trojan keep,
And Greece returning plough the watery deep.
If by my brother's lance the Trojan bleed;
Be his the wealth and beauteous dame decreed:
The appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And age to age record the signal day.
This if the Phrygians shall refuse to yield,
Arms must revenge, and Mars decide the field.
With that the chief the tender victims slew,
And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw :
The vital spirit issued at the wound,
And words like these are heard through all the
bands:
Immortal Jove, high heaven's superior lord,
On lofty Ida's holy mount adored!
Whoe'er involved us in this dire debate,
Oh give that author of the war to fate
And shades eternal! let division cease,
And joyful nations join in leagues of peace.
With eyes averted Hector hastes to turn
The lots of fight, and shakes the brazen urn.
Then, Paris, thine leap'd forth; by fatal chance
Ordain'd the first to whirl the weighty lance.
Both armies sat the combat to survey,
Beside each chief his azure armour lay,
And round the lists the generous coursers neigh.
The beauteous warrior now arrays for fight,
In gilded arms magnificently bright;
The purple cuishes clasp his thighs around,
With flowers adorn'd, with silver buckles bound:
Lycaon's corslet his fair body dress'd,
Braced in, and fitted to his softer breast:
A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder tied,
350 Sustain'd the sword that glitter'd at his side:
His youthful face a polish'd helm o'erspread;
The waving horse-hair nodded on his head:
His figured shield, a shining orb, he takes,
And in his hand a pointed javelin shakes.
With equal speed, and fired by equal charms,
The Spartan hero sheaths his limbs in arms.
Now round the lists the admiring army stand,
With javelins fix'd, the Greek and Trojan band.
Amidst the dreadful vale, the chiefs advance,
360 All pale with rage, and shake the threatening lance.
The Trojan first his shining javelin threw :
Full on Atrides' ringing shield it flew;
Nor pierced the brazen orb, but with a bound
Leap'd from the buckler blunted on the ground. 430
Atrides then his massy lance prepares,
And left the members quivering on the ground.
From the same urn they drink the mingled wine,
And add libations to the powers divine.
While thus their prayers united mount the sky:
Hear, mighty Jove! and hear, ye Gods on high!
And may their blood, who first the league con-
found,
Shed like this wine, distain the thirsty ground;
May all their consorts serve promiscuous lust,
And all their race be scatter'd as the dust!
Thus either host their imprecations join'd,
Which Jove refused, and mingled with the wind.
The rites now finish'd, reverend Priam rose,
And thus express'd a heart o'ercharged with woes:
In act to throw, but first prefers his prayers:
Give me, great Jove! to punish lawless lust,
And lay the Trojan gasping in the dust:
Destroy the aggressor, aid my righteous cause,
Avenge the breach of hospitable laws:
Let this example future times reclaim,
And guard from wrong fair friendship's holy name.
He said, and poised in air the javelin sent:
Through Paris' shield the forceful weapon went, 440
His corselet pierces, and his garment rends,
And, glancing downward, near his flank descends.
The wary Trojan, bending from the blow,
Eludes the death and disappoints his foe:
But fierce Atrides waved his sword, and struck
Full on his casque; the crested helmet shook;
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