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(She feem'd an ancient maid, well-skill'd to cull
The fnowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The Goddess foftly fhook her filken veft,
That thed perfumes, and whispering thus addrest:
Hafte, happy nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls.
Fair as a God! with odours round him fpread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed:
Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
But fome gay dancer in the public show.

She spoke, and Helen's fecret foul was mov'd;
She corn'd the champion, but the man fhe lov'd.
Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
And breaft, reveal'd the Queen of foft defire.
Struck with her prefence, ftraight the lively red
Forlook her cheek; and, trembling, thus fhe faid:
Then is it ftill thy pleafure to deceive?
And woman's frailty always to believe?
Say, to new nations muft I cross the main,
Or carry wars to fome foft Afian plain?
For whom muft Helen break her fecond vow?
What other Paris is thy darling now?
Left to Atrides (victor in the ftrife)
An odious conqueft, and a captive wife,
Hence let me fail: and if thy Paris bear
My abfence ill, let Venus eafe his care.
A hand-maid Goddefs at his fide to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state,
Be fix'd for ever to the Trojan fhore,

His fpoufe, or flave; and mount the skies no more.
For me, to lawlefs love no longer led,
I fcorn the coward, and deteft his bed;
Elfe fhould I merit everlafting fhame,
And keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame:
Ill tuits it now the joys of love to know,
Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe.
Then, thus incens'd, the Paphian queen replies;
Obey the powers from whom thy glories rife:
Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fly,
Fade from thy cheek, and languifli in thy eye.
Ceafe to provoke me, left I make thee more
The world's averfion than their love before;
Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
Then the fad victim of the public rage.

At this, the fairest of her fex obey'd,
And veil'd her blushes in a filken fhade;
Unfeen, and filent, from the train fhe moves,
Led by the Goddefs of the Smiles and Loves.
Arriv'd and enter'd at the palace-gate,
The maids officious round their mistress wait;

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Then all, difperfing, various tasks attend;
The queen and Goddess to the prince afcend.
Full in her Paris' fight, the Queen of Love
Had plac'd the beauteous progeny of Jove;
Where as he view'd her charms, the turn'd away
Her glowing eyes, and thus began to fay;

Is this the chief, who, loft to fenfe of thame,
Late fled the field, and yet furvives his fame?
Oh hadft thou dy'd beneath the righteous fword
Of that brave man whom once I call'd my lord!
The boafter Paris oft defir'd the day
With Sparta's king to meet in fingle fray:
Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite,
Provoke Atrides, and renew the tight:
Yet Helen bids thee stay, left thou unskill'd
Should't fall an eafy conqueft on the field.

The prince replies: Ah ceafe, divinely fair, Nor add reproaches to the wounds I bear; This day the foe prevail'd by Pallas' power; We yet may vanquish in a happier hour: There want not Gods to favour us above; But let the bufinefs of our life be love: Thefe forter moments let delight employ, And kind embraces fnatch the hafty joy. Not thus I lov'd thee, when from Sparta's fhore, My forc'd, my willing, heavenly prize I bore, When firft entranc'd in Cranae's ifle I lay, Mix'd with thy foul, and all diffolv'd away! Thus having fpoke, th' enamour'd Phrygian boy Rush'd to the bed, impatient for the joy. Him Helen follow'd flow with bathful charms, And clafp'd the blooming hero in her arms.

While thefe to love's delicious rapture yield, The ftern Atrides rages round the field: So fome fell lion, whom the woods obey, Roars through the defert, and demands his prey Paris he feeks, impatient to destroy, But feeks in vain along the troops of Troy; Ev'n thofe had yielded to a foe fo brave The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave. Then speaking thus, the king of kings arofe! Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes! Hear and atteft! from heaven with conqueft crown'd, Our brother's arms the juft fuccefs have found: Be therefore now the Spartan wealth reftor'd, Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord; Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay, And age to age record this fignal day.

He ceas'd; his army' loud applauses rife, And the long fhout runs echoing through the fkies.

BOOK IV.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Breach of the Truce, and the firft Battle.

The Gods deliberate in council concerning the Trojan war: they agree upon the continuation of it, and Jupiter fends down Minerva to break the truce. She perfuades Pandarus to aim an arrow at Menelaus, who is wounded, but cured by Machaon. In the mean time fome of the Trojan troops attack the Greeks. Agamemnon is diftinguifhed in all the parts of a good general; he reviews the troops, and exhorts the leaders, fome by praifes, and others by reproofs. Neftor is particularly celebrated for his military difcipline. The battle joins, and great numbers are flain on both fides. The fame day continues through this, as through the laft book (as it does alfo through the two following, and almost to the end of the feventh book).-The fcene is wholly in the field before Troy.

AND now Olympus' fhining gates unfold;
The Gods, with Jove, affume their thrones of gold:
Immortal Hebé, fresh with bloom divine,
The golden goblet crowns with purple wine:
While the full bowls flow round, the powers employ
Their careful eyes on long-contended Troy.

When Jove, difpos'd to tempt Saturnia's spleen,
Thus wak'd the fury of his partial queen:
Two powers divine the fon of Atreus aid,
Imperial Juno, and the Martial Maid;
But high in Heaven they fit, and gaze from far,
The tame spectators of his deeds of war.
Not thus fair Venus helps her favour'd knight,
The Queen of Pleasures thares the toils of fight,
Each danger wards, and, conftant in her care,
Saves in the moment of the laft despair.
Her act has refcued Paris' forfeit life,
Though great Atrides, gain'd the glorious ftrife.
Then lay, Ye powers! what fignal iffue waits
To crown this deed, and finish all the Fates?
Shali Heaven by peace the bleeding kingdoms fpare,
Or roule the Furies, and awake the war?
Yet, would the Gods for human good provide,
Atrides foon might gain his beauteous bride,
Still Pham's walls in peaceful honours grow,
And through his gates the crowding nations flow.
Thus while he spoke, the Queen of Heaven enrag'd,
And Queen of War in clofe confult engag'd:
Apart they fit, their deep defigns employ,
And meditate the future woes of Troy.
Though fecret anger fwell'd Minerva's breaft,
The prudent Goddefs yet her wrath fuppreft;
But Juno, impotent of paffion, broke
Her lullen filence, and with fury ipoke:

Shall then, O tyrant of th' atherial reign!
My ichemes, my labours, and my hopes, be vain?
Have I, for this, fhook Ilion with alarms,
Affembled nations, fet two worlds in arms?
To fpread the war, I flew from fhore to fhore;
Th' immortal couriers fcarce the labour bore.
At length ripe vengeance o'er their heads impends,
But Jove himself the faithless race defends:
Loth as thon art to punith lawless luft,
Not all the Gods are partial and unjust.
The Sire whole thunder fhakes the cloudy skies
Sighs from his inmoft foul, and thus replies:
Oh lafting rancour! oh infatiate hate
To Phrygia's monarch, and the Phrygian state!
What high offence has fir'd the wife of Jove,
Can wretched mortals harm the power's above?
That Troy and Troy's whole race thou would'ft
confound,

And yon tair structures level with the ground?
Hate, leave the fkies, fulfil thy ftern defire,
Burit all her gates, and wrap her walls in fire!
Let Priam bleed! If yet thou thirst for more,
Bleed all his fons, and Ilion float with gore,
To boundlefs vengeance the wide realm be given,
Til va dettruction glut the Queen of Heaven!
So let it be, and Jove his peace enjoy,
When Heaven no longer hears the name of Troy:
But fhould this arm prepare to wreak our hate
Onthy lov'd realms, whofe guilt demands their fate,
Prelame not thou the lifted bolt to stay;
Remember Troy, and give the vengeance way.
For know, of all the numerous towns that rife
Beneath the rolling fun and starry skies,

Which Gods have rais'd, or earth-born men enjoy,
None ftands fo dear to Jove as facred Troy.
No mortals merit more diftinguith'd grace
Than godlike Priam, or than Priam's race,
Still to our name their hecatombs expire,
And altars blaze with unextinguith'd fire.

At this the Goddess roll'd her radiant eyes,
Then on the Thunderer fix'd them, and replies:
Three towns are Juno's on the Grecian plains,
More dear than all th' extended earth contains,
Mycæne, Argos, and the Spartan wall;
These thou may'it raze, nor I forbid their fall:
'Tis not in me the vengeance to remove;
The crime's fufficient, that they fhare my love.
Of power fuperior why should I complain?
Relent I may, but muit refent in vain.
Yet fome diftinction Juno might require,
Sprung with thyfelf from one celeitia! fire,
A Goddefs born to fhare the realms above,
And ftyi'd the confort of the thundering jove:
Nor thou a wife and fifter's right deny;
Let both content, and both by turns comply;
So fhall the Gods our joint decrees oboy,
And Heaven fhall act as we direct the way.
See ready Pallas waits thy high commands,
To raife in arms the Greek and Phrygian bands;
Their fudden friendship by her art, may cease,
And the proud Trojans firit infringe the peace.

The Sire of men and Monarch of the iky,
Th' advice approv'd, and bade Minerva fiy,
Diffolve the league, and all her arts employ
To make the breach the faithlefs act of Troy.
Fir'd with the charge, fhe headlong urg'd her
flight,
And fhot like lightning from Olympus' height.
As the red comet, from Saturnius fent
To fright the nations with a dire portent
(A fatal fign to armies on the plain,
Or trembling failors on the wintery main)
With fweeping glories glides along in ait,
And flakes the iparkles from its blazing hair:
Between both armies thus, in open fight,
Shot the bright Goddess in a trail of light.
With eyes erect the gazing hoits admire
The power defcending, and the heavens on fire!
The Gods (they cried) the Gods this signal fent,
And fate now labours with fome vaft event:

Jove feals the league, or bloodier fcenes prepares
Jove, the great arbiter of peace and wars!
They faid, while Pallas through the Trojan throng
(In fhape a mortal) pais'd disguis'd along.
Like bold Lao iocus, her courie the bent,
Who from Antenor trac'd his high defcent.
Amidft the ranks Lycaon's fon the found,
The warlike Pandarus, for itrength renown'd;
Whofe fquadrons, led from black lopus' flood,
With flaming fhields in martial circle stood.

To him the Goddefs: Phrygian! can't thou hear
A well-tim'd counfel with a willing ear?
What praife were thine, could't thon direct thy
Amidst his triumph, to the Spartan's heart! [dart,
What gifts from Troy, from Paris wouldst thou
Thy country's foe, the Grecian glory flain! [gain,
Then feize th' occafion, dare the mighty deed,
Aim at his breaft, and may that aim fucceed!
But firft, to speed the fhaft, addrefs thy vow
To Lycian Phoebus with the filver bow,

22

And fwear the firflings of thy flock to pay
On Zelia's altars, to the God of Day.

He heard, and madly, at the motion pleas'd,
His polifh'd bow with hafty rafhneis feiz'd.
'Twas form'd of horn, and smooth'd with artful toil
A mountain goat refign'd the thining spoil,
Who pierc'd long fince beneath his arrows bled:"
The stately quarry on the cliffs lay dead,
And fixteen palms his brow's large honours spread:
The workmen join'd, and fhap'd the bended horns,
And beaten gold each taper point adorns.
This by the Greeks unfeen, the warrior bends,
Screen'd by the fhields of his furounding friends.
There meditates the mark; and, couching low,
Fits the fharp arrow to the well-ftrung bow.
One from a hundred feather'd deaths he chofe,
Fated to wound, and caufe of future woes,
Then offers vows with hecatombs to crown
Apollo's altars in his native town. '

Now with full force the yielding horn he bends
Drawn to an arch, and joins the doubling ends;
Close to his breast he ftrains the nerve below,
Till the barb'd point approach the circling bow;
Th' impatient weapon whizzes on the wing:
Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quivering
But thee, Atrides ! in that dangerous hour [ftring.
The Gods forget not, nor thy guardian power,
Pallas aflifts, and (weaken'd in its force)
Diverts the weapon from its deftin'd course :
So from her babe, when flumber feals his eye,
The watchful mother wafts th' envenom'd fly.
Juft where his beit with golden buckles join'd,
Where linen folds the double corflet lin'd,
She turn'd the thaft, which hiffing from above,
Pafs'd the broad belt, and through the corflet drove:
The folds it pierc'd, the plainted linen tore,
And raz'd the fkin, and drew the purple gore.
As when fome itately trappings are decreed
To grace a monarch on his bounding steed,
A nymph in Caria or Mæonia bred,
Stains the pure ivory with a lively red:
With equal luitre various colours vie,
The fhining whiteness, and the Tyrian dye :
So, great Atrides! fhow'd thy facred blood, [flood.
As down thy fnowy thigh diftill'd the streaming
With horror feir'd, the king of men defcried
That shaft infix'd, and faw the gushing tide:
Nor leis the Spartan fear'd, before he found
The thining barb appear'd above the wound.
Then, with a figh, that heav'd his manly breast,
The royal brother thus his grief expreft,
And graip'd his hands; while all the Greeks a-
[round
With answering fighs return'd the plaintive found:
Oh dear as life! did I for this agree
The folemn truce, a fatal truce to thee!
Wert thou expos'd to all the hoftile train,
To fight for Greece, and conquer to be flain?
The race of Trojans in thy ruin join,
And faith is fcorn'd by all the perjur'd line.
Not thus oer vows, confirm'd with wine and gore,
Thofe hands we plighted, and thofe oaths we fwore,
Shall all be vain when Heaven's revenge is flow,
Jove but prepares to strike the fiercer blow.
The day hall come, that great avenging day,
Which Troy's proud glories in the duft fhall lay.
When Priam's powers and Priam's felf fhall fall,
And one prodigious ruin fwallow all.

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I see the God, already, from the pole
Bare his red arm, and bid the thunder roll;
I fee th' Eternal all his fury thed,
And thake his Ægis o'er their guilty head,
Such mighty woes on perjur'd princes wait;
But thou, alas! deferv'ft a happier fate.
Still must I mourn the period of thy days,
And only mourn, without my fhare of praife?
Depriv'd of thee, the heartless Greeks no more
Shall dream of conquefts on the hoftile fhore;
Troy feiz'd of Helen, and our glory lost,

Thy bones fhall moulder on a foreign coaft:
While fome proud Trojan thus infulting cries,
(And fpurns the duft where Menelaus lies)

66

46

Such are the trophies Greece from Ilion brings,
And fuch the conquefts of her King of Kings!
"Lo his proud veffels fcatter'd o'er the main,
"And unreveng'd his mighty brother flain."
Oh! ere that dire difgrace fhall blait my fame,
O'erwhelm 'me, earth! and hide a monarch's

He faid: a leader's and a brother's fears [fhame.
Poffefs his foul, which thus the Spartan cheers:
Let not thy words the warmth of Greece abate;
Stiff with the rich embroider'd work around,
The feeble dart is guiltlefs of my fate:
My varied belt repell'd the flying wound.

To whom the King: My brother and my friend,
Thus, always thus, may Heaven thy life defend!
Now feek fome skilful hand, whose powerful art
May ftaunch the effufion, and extract the dart.
Herald, be fwift, and bid Machäon bring
His fpeedy fuccour to the Spartan king;
Pierc'd with a winged fhaft, (the deed of Troy)
The Grecian's forrow, and the Dardan's joy.

With hafty zeal the fwift Talthybius flies;
Through the thick files he darts his fearching

eyes,

And finds Machäon, where fublime he stands
In arms encircled with his native bands.
Then thus Machäon, to the king repair,
His wounded brother clains thy timely care;
Pierc'd by fome Lycian or Dardanian bow,
A grief to us, a triumph to the foe.

The heavy tidings griev'd the godlike man;
Swift to his fuccour through the ranks he ran;
The dauntless king yet ftanding firm he found,
And all the chiefs in deep concern around,
Where to the steely point the reed was join'd,
The thaft he drew, but left the head behind.
Straight the broad belt with gay embroidery grac'd,
He loos'd; the corflet from his breaft unbrac'd;
Then fuck'd the blood, and fovereign balm infus'd,
Which Chiron gave, and Æfculapius us'd.

While round the prince the Greeks employ their
The Trojans rush tumultuous to the war; [care,
Once more they glitter in refulgent arms,
Once more the fields are fill'd with dire alarms.
Nor had you feen the king of men appear
Confus'd, unactive, or furpris'd with fear;
His beating bofom claim'd the rifing fight,
But fond of glory with fevere delight,
No longer with his warlike fteeds he fray'd,
Or prefs'd the car with polish'd brass inlaid;
But left Eurymedon the reins to guide;
The fiery courfers fnorted at his fide.
On foot through all the martial ranks he moves,
And these encourages, and thofe reproves.

Brave men! he cries (to fuch who boldly dare Urge their swift fteeds to face the coming war) Your ancient valours on the foes approve; Jove is with Greece, and let us trust in Jove. Tis not for us, but guilty Troy to dread, Whole crimes fit heavy of her perjur'd head; Her fons and matrons Greece fhall lead in chains, And her dead warriors ftrow the mournful plains. Thus with new ardour he the brave inspires; Or thus the fearful with reproaches fires: Shame to your country, scandal of your kind! Born to the fate ye well deferve to find! Why ftand you gazing round the dreadful plain, Prepar'd for flight, but doom'd to fly in vain? Confus'd and panting thus, the hunted deer Falls as he flies, a victim to his fear. Stiil must ye wait the foes, and ftill retire, Till yon tall veffels blaze with Trojan fire? Ortruft ye, Jove a valiant foe fhall chase, To have a trembling, heartless, daftard race?

This faid, he stalk'd with ample ftrides along,
To Crete's brave monarch and his martial throng;
High at their head he faw the chief appear,
And bold Meriones excite the rear.
At this the king his generous joy expreft,
And clafy'd the warrior to his armed breaft:
Divine Idomeneus! what thanks we owe

To worth like thine! what praise shall we bestow?
To thee the foremoft honours are decreed,
Firitm the fight, and every graceful deed.
For this, in banquets, when the generous bowls
Restore our blood, and raife the warriors fouls,
Though all the reft with ftated rules we bound,
Unmir'd, unmeafur'd, are thy goblets crown'd.
Be fill thyfelf; in arms a mighty name;
Maintain thy honours, and enlarge thy fame.
To whom the Cretan thus his ipeech addreft:
Secare of me, O king! exhort the reft:
Fu'd to thy fide, in every toil I fhare,
Thy firm affociate in the day of war.
But let the fignal be this moment given;
To in fight is all I afk of Heaven.

The fed fhall prove how perjuries fucceed,
And chains or death avenge their impious deed.
Charm'd with this heat, the king his courfe
pursues,

Soon fhould our arms with juft fuccefs be crown'd,
And Troy's proud walls lie imoking on the ground.
Then to the next the general bends his courie
(His heart exults, and glories in his force);
There reverend Neftor ranks his Pylian bands,
And with infpiring eloquence commands;
With strictest orders fet his train in arms,
The chiefs advifes, and the faldiers warms,
Alaftor, Chromius, Hæmon round him wait,
Bias the good, and Pelagon the great.
The horie and chariots to the front affign'd,
The foot (the ftrength of war) he rang'd behind;
The middle space fufpected troops fupply,
Inclos'd by both, nor left the power to ty;
He gives command to curb the fiery steed,
Nor caufe confufion, nor the ranks exceed;
Before the rest let none too rafhly ride;

And next the troops of either Ajax views:
In one firm orb the bands were rang'd around,
A cloud of heroes blacken'd all the ground.
Thus from the lofty promontory's brow
A fwain furveys the gathering ftorm below;
Slow from the main the heavy vapours rife,
Spread in dim ftreams, and fail along the fkies,
Tul black at night the fwelling tempeft shows,
The cloud condenfing as the Weft-wind blows:
He dreads th' impending form, and drives his
To the close covert of an arching rock. [flock
Sach, and fo thick, th' embattled fquadrons
With ipears erect, a moving iron wood; [itood,
A fhady light was hot from glimmering fhields,
And their brown arms obfcur'd the dufky field.."
O heroes! worthy fuch a dauntless train,
Whole godlike virtue we but urge in vain,
(Exclaim'd the king) who raise your eager bands
With great examples, more than loud commands:
Ah, would the Gods but breathe in all the rest
Such fouls as burn in your exalted breast:

No ftrength no fkill, but juft in time, be try'd:
The charge once made, no warrior turn the rein,
But fight, or fall; a firm embody'd train.
He whom the fortune of the field fhall caft
From forth his chariot, mount the next in haste ;
Nor feek unpractis'd to direct the car,
Content with javelins to provoke the war.
Our great forefathers held this prudent course,
Thus rul'd their ardour, thus preferv'd their force,
By laws like thefe immortal conquest made,
And earth's proud tyrants low in athes laid.

So fpoke the matter of the martial art,
And touch'd with transport great Atrides' heart!
Oh! had'st thou ftrength to match thy brave de-
And nerves to fecond what thy foul infpires! [fires,
But wafting years, that wither human race,
Exhauft thy fpirits, and thy arms unbrace.
What once thou wert, oh ever might'ft thou be!
And age the lot of any chief but thee.

Thus to th' experienc'd prince Atrides cry'd;
He fhook his hoary locks, and thus reply'd: '
Well might I wifh, could mortal with renew
That strength which once in boiling youth I knew;
Such as I was, when Ereuthalion flain
Beneath this arm fell proftrate on the plain."
But Heaven its gifts not all at once beftows,
Thefe years with wifdom crowns, with action
thole;

The field of combat fits the young and bold,
The folemn council beft becomes the old:
To you the glorious conflict I refigi,
Let fage advice, the palm of age, be mine.

He faid. With joy the monarch march'd before,
And found Meneitheus on the dusty fhore,
With whom the firm Athenian phalanx itands.
And next Ulyffes with his fubject bands,
Remote their forces lay, nor knew fo far.
The peace infring'd, nor heard the found of war;
The tumult late begun, they stood intent
To watch the motion, dubious of th' event.
The king, who faw their squadrons yet unmov'd,
With hafty ardour thus the chiefs reprov'd:

Can Peleys' fon forget a warrior's part,
And fears Ulyffes, fkill'd in every art?
Why ftand you diftant, and the reft expect
To mix in combat which yourselves neglect?
From you 'twas hop'd among the first to dare
The fhocks of armies, and commence the war,
For this your names are call'd before the rest,
To thare the pleasures of the genial feast a

And can you, chiefs! without a blush survey
Whole troops before you labouring in the fray?
Say, is it thus those honours you requite:
The first in banquets, but the laft in fight?

Ulyffes heard the hero's warmth o'erfpread
His cheek with blushes: and fevere, he faid:
Take back th' unjust reproach! Behold, we ftand
Sheath'd in bright arms, and but expect command.
If glorious deeds afford thy foul delight,
Behold me plunging in the thickest fight.
Then give thy warrior-chief a warrior's due,
Who dar'ft to act whate'er thou dar'ft to view.
Struck with his generous wrath the king replies;
Oh great in action, and in council wife!
With ours, thy care and ardour are the fame,
Nor need I to command, nor ought to blame.
Sage as thou art, and learn'd in human kind,
Forgive the tranfport of a martial mind.
Hafle to the fight, fecure of just amends;
The Gods that make, fhall keep the worthy, friends.
He faid, and pafs'd where great Tydides lay,
His steeds and chariots wedg'd in firm array:
(The wailike Sthenelus attends his fide)
To whom with ftern reproach the monarch cry'd;
Oh fon of Tydeus! (he, whofe ftrength could tame
The bounding fteed, in arms a mighty name)
Can't thou, remote, the mingling hofts defcry,
With hands unactive, and a careless eye?
Not thus thy fire the fierce encounter fear'd;
Still first in front the matchlefs prince appear'd;
What glorious toils, what wonders they recite,
Who view'd him labouring through the ranks of
fight!

1 faw him once, when, gathering martial power,
A peaceful guest, he fought Mycena's tower;
Armies he afk'd, and armies had been given,
Not we deny'd, but Jove forbade from heaven;
While dreadful comets glaring from afar
Forewarn'd the horrors of the Theban war.
Next, fent by Greece from where Afopus flows,
A fearless envoy, he approach'd the foes;
Thebe's hoftile walls, unguarded and alone,
Dauntless he enters, and demands the throne.
The tyrant feafting with his chiefs he found,
And dar'd to combat all thofe chiefs around';
Dar'd and fubdued, before their haughty lord;
For Pallas ftrung his arm, and edg'd his word.
Stung with the thame, within the winding way,
To bar his paffage fifty warriors lay;
Two heroes led the fecret fquadron on,
Mæon the fierce, and hardy Lycophon;
Those fifty flaughter'd in the gloomy vale,
He spar'd but one to bear the dreadful tale.
Such Tydeus was, and fuch his martial fire.
Gods! how the fop, degenerates from the fire!
No words the godlike Diomed return'd,
Eut heard respectful, and in fecret burn'd :
Not fo fierce Capaneus' undaunted fon,
Stern as his fire, the boafter thus begun :
What needs, O monarch, this invidious praife,
Ourselves to leffen, while our fires you raife?
Dare to be just, Atrides! and coniefs
Our valour equal, though our fury lefs,
With fewer troops we ftorm'd the Theban wall,
And happier faw the fevenfold city fall.
In impious acts the guilty father's dy'd;
The fans fubdued, for heaven was on their fide.

Far more than heirs of all our parents fame,
Our glories darken their diminish'd name.

To him Tydides thus: My friend, forbear,
Supprefs thy paffion, and the king revere:
His high concern may well excufe this rage,
Whofe caufe we follow, and whofe war we wage;
His the first praife, were Ilion's towers o'erthrown
And, if we fail, the chief difgrace his own.
Let him the Greeks to hardy toils excite,
'Tis ours to labour in the glorious fight.

He spoke, and ardent on the trembling ground
Sprung from his car; his ringing arms refound.
Dire was the clang, and dreadful from afar,
Of arm'd Tydides rufhing to the war.
As when the winds, afcending by degrees,
First move the whitening furface of the feas,
The billows float in order to the shore,
The wave behind rolls on the wave before;
Till, with the growing ftorm, the deeps arife,
Foam o'er the rocks, and thunder to the skies.
So to the fight the thick battalions throng,
Shields urged on shields, and men drove men along.
Sedate and filent move the numerous bands;
No found, no whisper, but the chief's commands,
Those only heard; with awe the rest obey,
As if fome God had fnatch'd their voice away.
Not fo the Trojans; from their host ascends
A general fhout that all the region rends.
As when the fleecy flocks unnumber'd ftand
In wealthy folds, and wait the milker's hand,
The hollow vales inceffant bleating fills,
The lambs reply from all the neighbouring hills:
Such clamours rofe from various nations round,
Mix'd was the murmur, and confus'd the found.
Each hoft now joins, and each a God infpires,
Thefe Mars incites, and thofe Minerva fires.
Pale Flight around, and dreadful Terror reign;
And Difcord raging bathes the purple plain;
Discord! dire fifter of the flaughtering power,
Smail at her birth, but rifing every hour,
While fearce the fkies her horrid head can bound,
She talks on earth, and fhakes the world around;
The nations bleed, where'er her steps the turns,
The groan ftill deepens, and the combat burns.

Now fhield with fhield, with helmet helmet

clos'd,

To armour armour, lance to lance oppos'd,
Hoft against hoft, with fhady fquadrons drew,
The founding darts in iron tempefts flew,
Victors and vanquish'd join promifcuous cries,
And thrilling fhouts and dying groans arife;
With ftreaming blood the flippery fields are dy'd,
And flaughter'd heroes fwell the dreadful tide.

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As torrents roll, increas'd by numerous rills,
With rage impetuous down their echoing hills
Rush to the vales, and, pour'd along the plain,
Roar through a thousand channels to the main ;
The diftant thepherd trembling hears the found:
So mix both hofts, and fo their cries rebound.

The bold Antilochus the flaughter led,
The first who ftruck a valiant Trojan dead:
At great Echepolas the lance arrives;
Raz'd his high creft, and through his hemlet drives;
Warm'd in the brain the brazen weapon lies,
And fhades eternal fettle o'er his eyes.
So finks a tower, that long affaults had ftood
Of force and fire; its walls befmear'd with blood.

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