Shall Troy, shall Priam, and th' adulterous spouse,
In peace enjoy the fruits of broken vows?
And bravest chiefs, in Helen's quarrel slain,
Lie unreveng'd on yon detested plain?
No: let my Greeks, unmov'd by vain alarms,
Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms.
Haste, goddess, haste! the flying host detain,
Nor let one sail be hoisted on the main."

Pallas obeys, and from Olympus' height
Swift to the ships precipitates her flight;
Ulysses, first in public cares, she found,
For prudent counsel like the gods renown'd;
Oppress'd with gen'rous grief the hero stood,
Nor drew his sable vessels to the flood.

And is it thus, divine Laërtes' son!
Thas dy the Greeks" (the martial maid begun)
Thus to their country bear their own disgrace,
And fame eternal leave to Priam's race?
Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed,
Still unreveng'd a thousand heroes bleed?
Haste, generous Ithacus! prevent the shame,
Recall your armies, and your chiefs reclaim.
Your own resistless eloquence employ,
And to the immortals trust the fall of Troy."
The voice divine confess'd the warlike maid,
Ulysses heard, nor uninspir'd obey'd:
Then meeting first Atrides, from his hand
Receiv'd th' imperial sceptre of command.
Thus grac'd, attention and respect to gain,
He runs, he flies, through all the Grecian train,
Each prince of name, or chief in arms approv'd,
He fir'd with praise, or with persuasion mov'd.
"Warriors, like you, with strength and wisdom
blest,

By brave examples should confirm the rest.
The monarch's will not yet reveal'd appears,
He tries our courage, but resents our fears:
Th' unwary Greeks his fury may provoke;
Not thus the king in secret council spoke.
Jove loves our chief, from Jove his honour springs,
Beware! for dreadful is the wrath of kings."

But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose,

Him with reproof he check'd, or tam'd with blows. Be still, thou slave, and to thy betters yield; * Unknown alike in council and in field!

Ye gods, what dastards would our host command,
Swept to the war, the lumber of a land!
Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow'd
That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd:
To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway;
His are the laws, and him let all obey."

With words like these the troops Ulysses rul'd,
The londest silenc'd, and the fiercest cool'd.
Back to th' assembly roll'd the thronging train,
Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain.
Murmuring they move, as when old Ocean roars,
And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores :
The groaning banks are burst with bellowing

sound,

The rocks remurmur, and the deeps rebound.
At length the tumult sinks, the noises cease,
And a still silence lulls the camp to peace;
Thersites only clamour'd in the throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue :
Aw'd by no shame, by no respects control'd,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold;
With witty malice studious to defame:
Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim;
But chief he glory'd, with licentious style,
To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.

Sharp was his voice, which, in the shrillest tone, Thus with injurious taunts attack'd the throne: Amidst the glories of so tight a reign,

What moves the great Atrides to complain?
'Tis thine whate'er the warrior's breast inflames,
The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames.
With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow,
Thy tents are crowded, and thy chests o'erflow,
Thus at full ease in heaps of riches roll'd,
What grieves the monarch? Is it thirst of gold?
Say, shall we march with our unconquer'd powers,
(The Greeks and I) to Hlion's hostile towers,
And bring the race of royal bastards here,
For Troy to ransom at a price too dear?
But safer plunder thy own host supplies;
Say would'st thou seize some valiant leader's prize?
Or, if thy heart to generous love be led,
Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed?
Whatc'er our master craves, submit we must,
Plagued with his pride, or punish'd for his lust.
Oh women of Achaia! men no more!
Hence let us fly, and let him waste his store
In loves and pleasures on the Phrygian shore;
We may be wanted on some busy day,
When Hector comes: so great Achilles may :
From him he fore'd the prize we jointly gave,
From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong,
This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long."
Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs,
In generous vengeance of the king of kings:
With indignation sparkling in his eyes,
He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies:

"Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state,
With wrangling talents form'd for foul debate:
Curb that impetuous tongue, nor, rashly vain
And singly inad, asperse the sovereign reign.
Have we not known thee, slave of all our host,
The man who acts the least, unbraids the most?
Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring,
Nor let those lips profaue the name of king.
For our return we trust the heavenly powers;
Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.
But grant the host with wealth the general load,
Except detraction, what hast thou bestow'd?
Suppose some hero should his spoils resign,
Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore,
And let these eyes behold my son no more,
If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear
To strip those arms thou ill deserv`st to wear,
Expel the council where our princes meet,
And send thee scourg'd and howling thro' the fleet."
He said, and cowering as the dastard bends,
The weighty sceptre on his back descends :
On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise;
The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes:
Trembling he sat, and, shrunk in abject fears,
From his wild visage wip'd the scalding tears,

While to his neighbours each express'd his thought!
"Ye gods! what wonders has Ulysses wrought!
What fruits his conduct and his courage yield;
Great in the council, glorious in the field!
Generous he rises in the crown's defence,
To curb the factious tongue of insolence.
Such just examples on offenders shown,
Sedition silence, and assert the throne."

'Twas thus the general voice the hero prais'd,
Who, rising high, th' imperial sceptre rais'd:
The blue-ey'd Pallas, his celestial friend,
(In form a herald) bade the crowds attend.
Th' expecting crowds in still attention hung,
To hear the wisdom of his heavenly tongue.
Then deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke,
His silence thus the prudent hero broke:

"Unhappy monarch! whom the Grecian race,
With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace.
Not such at Argos was their generous vow,
Once all their voice, but, ah! forgotten now:
Ne'er to return, was then the common cry,
Till Troy's proud structures should in ashes lie.
Behold them weeping for their native shore!
What could their wives or helpless children more?
What heart but melts to leave the tender train,
And, one short month, endure the wintery main?
Few leagues remov'd, we wish our peaceful seat,
When the ship tosses, and the tempests beat:
Then well may this long stay provoke their tears,
The tedious length of nine revolving years.
Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame;
But vanquish'd! baffled! oh, eternal shame!
Expect the time to Troy's destruction given,
And try the faith of Chalcas and of Heaven.
What pass'd at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,
And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air.
Beside a fountain's sacred brink we rais'd
Our verdant altars, and the victims blaz'd;
('Twas there the plane-tree spreads its shades
around)

The altars heav'd; and from the crumbling ground
A mighty dragon shot, of dire portent;
From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent.
Straight to the tree his sanguine spire he roll'd,
And curl'd around in many a winding fold.
The topmost branch a mother-bird possest;
Fight callow infants fill'd the mossy nest;
Herself the ninth; the serpent, as he hung,
Stretch'd his black jaws, and crash'd the crying
young;

While hovering near, with miserable moan,
The drooping mother wail'd her children gone.
The mother last, as round the nest she flew,
Seiz'd by the beating wing, the monster slew:
Nor long surviv'd; to marble turn'd, he stands
A lasting prodigy on Aulis' sands.

Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare
Trust in his omen, and support the war.
For while around we gaze with wondering eyes,
And trembling sought the powers with sacrifice,
Full of his god, the reverend Chalcas cried,
'Ye Grecian warriours! lay your fears aside.
This wonderous signal Jove himself displays
Of long, long labours, but eternal praise.
As many birds as by the snakes were slain,
So many years the toils of Greece remain;
But wait the tenth, for Ilion's fall decreed :'
Thus spoke the prophet, thus the fates succeed.
Obey, ye Grecians! with submission wait,
Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate."

He said the shores with loud applauses sound,
The hollow ships each deafening shout rebound.
Then Nestor thus-" These vain debates forbear,
Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare.
Where now are all your high resolves at last?
Your leagues concluded, your engagements past?
Vow'd with libations and with victims then,
Now vanish'd like their smoke: the faith of men!
While useless words consume th' unactive hours,
No wonder Troy so long resists our powers.
Rise, great Atrides! and with courage sway;
We march to war, if thou direct the way.
But leave the few that dare resist thy laws,
The mean deserters of the Grecian cause,
To grudge the conquests mighty Jove prepares,
And view with envy our successful wars.
On that great day when first the martial train,
Big with the fate of Ilion, plough'd the main,
Jove on the right, a prosperous signal sent,
And thunder rolling shook the firinament.
Encourag'd hence, maintain the glorious strife,
Till every soldier grasp a Phrygian wife,
Till Helen's woes at full reveng'd appear,
And Troy's proud matrous render tear for tear.
Before that day if any Greek invite

His country's troops to base inglorious flight ;
Stand forth that Greek! and hoist his sail to fly,
And die the dastard first, who dreads to die.
But now, O monarch! all thy chiefs advise:
Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise.
Among those councils, let not mine be vain,
In tribes and nations to divide thy train;
His separate troops let every leader call,
Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
What chief, or soldier, of the numerous band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command,
When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known,
And what the cause of Ilion not o'erthrown;
If fate resists, or if our arms are slow,
If gods above prevent, or men below."

To him the king: "How much thy years excel
In arts of council, and in speaking well?
O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree
But ten such sages as they grant in thee;
Such wisdom soon should Priain's force destroy,
And soon shall fall the haughty towers of Troy!
But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates
In fierce contention and in vain debates.
Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws,
By me provok'd; a captivé maid the cause:
If e'er as friends we join, the Trojan wall
Must shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall:
But now, ye warriors, take a short repast:
And, well-refresh'd, to bloody conflict haste.
His sharpen'd spear let every Grecian wield,
And every Grecian fix his brazen shield;
Let all excite the fiery steeds of war,
And all for combat fit the rattling car.
This day, this dreadful day, let each contend;
No rest, no respite, till the shades descend;
Till darkness, or till death, shall cover all :
Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall!
Till bath'd in sweat be every manly breast,
With the huge shield each brawny arm deprest,
Each aching nerve refuse the lance to throw,
And each spent courser at the chariot blow.
Who dares inglorious, in his ships to stay,
Who dares to tremble on this signal day;
That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power,
The birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour.”

The monarch spoke; and straight a murmur rose, Load as the surges when the tempest blows, That dash'd on broken rocks tumultuous roar, And foam and thunder on the stony shore. Straight to the tents the troops dispersing bend, The fires are kindled, and the smokes ascend; With hasty feast they sacrifice, and pray T'avert the dangers of the doubtful day. A steer of five years' age, large limb'd, and fed, To Jove's high altars Agamemnon led: There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers; And Nestor first, as most advanc'd in years. Next came Idomeneus, and Tydeus' son, Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon; Then wise Ulysses in his rank was plac'd; And Menelaus came unbid, the last.

The chiefs surround the destin'd beast, and take The sacred offering of the salted cake. When thus the king prefers his solemn prayer: "On thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air, Who in the Heaven of Heavens has fix'd thy throne, Supreme of go is! unbounded and alone! Hear! and before the burning Sun descends, Before the Night her gloomy veil extends, Low in the dust be laid yon hostile spires, Be Priam's palace sunk in Grecian fires, In Hector's breast be plung'd this shining sword, And slaughter`d heroes groan around their lord!” Thus pray'd the chief; his unavailing prayer Great Jove refus'd, and tost in empty air: The god averse, while yet the fumes arose, Prepar'd new toils, and doubled woes on woes. Their prayers perform'd, the chiefs the rite pursue, The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew, The lumbs they sever from th' enclosing hide, The thighs, selected to the gods, divide. On these, in double cauls involv'd with art, The choicest morsels lie from every part. From the cleft wood the crackling flames aspire, While the fat victim feeds the sacred fire. The thighs thus sacrific'd, and entrails drest, Ta'assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest; Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, Each takes his seat, and each receives his share. Soon as the rage of hunger was supprest, The generous Nestor thus the prince addrest:

"Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms, And call the squadrons sheath'd in brazen arms: Now seize th' occasion, now the troops survey, And lead to war when Heaven directs the way." He said; the monarch issued his commands; Straight the loud heralds call the gathering bands. The chiefs enclose their king: the host divide, In tribes and nations rank'd on either side. Higa in the midst the blue-ey'd virgin flies; From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes: The dreadful ægis, Jove's immortal shield, Blaz'd on her arm, and lighten'd all the field: Round the vast orb an hundred serpents roll'd, Forn'd the bright fringe, and seem'd to burn in gold. With this each Grecian's manly breast she warms, Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous No more they sigh, inglorious, to return, [arms; But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn.

As on some mountain, through the lofty grove, The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above; The tires expanding as the winds arise, Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies: So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields, A gleamy splendour flash'd along the fields.

Not less their number than th' embody'd cranes,
Or milk-white swans in Asia's watery plains,
That o'er the windings of Cayster's springs,
Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling
Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds; [wings;
Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds.
Thus numerons and confus'd, extending wide,
The legions crowd Scamander's flowery side;
With rushing troops the plains are cover'd o'er,
And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore.
Along the river's level meads they stand,
Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land,
Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play,
The wandering nation of a summer's day,
That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours,
In gather'd swarms surround the rural bowers;
From pail to pail with busy murmur run
The gilded legions, glittering in the Sun.
So throng'd, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood
In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood.
Each leader now his scattered force conjoins
In close array, and forms the deepening lines.
Not with more ease, the skilful shepherd swain
Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain.
The king of kings, majestically tall,

Towers o'er his armies, and outshines them all;
Like some proud bull that round the pastures leads
His subject-herds, the monarch of the meads.
Great as the gods, th' exalted chief was seen,
His strength like Neptune, and like Mars his mien,
Jove o'er his eyes celestial glories spread,
And dawning conquest play'd around his head.

Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine,
All-knowing goddesses! immortal nine! [height,
Since Earth's wide regions, Heaven's unmeasur'd
And Hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight,
(We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below,
But guess by rumour, and but boast we know)
Oh, say what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame,
Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came?
To count them all, demands a thousand tongues,
A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs.
Daughters of Jove, assist! inspir'd by you
The mighty labour dauntless I pursue:
What crowded armies, from what climes they bring,
Their names, their numbers, and their chiefs, I sing.
THE CATALOGUE OF THE SHIPS.

The hardy warriors whom Baotia bred, Penelius, Leitus, Prothoënor led: With these Arcesilaus and Clonius stand, Equal in arms, and equal in command. These head the troops that rocky Aulis yields, And Eteon's hills, and Hyrie's watery fields, And Schoenos, Scholos, Græa near the main, And Mycalessia's ample piny plain. Those who on Peteon or lesion dwell, Or Harma where Apollo's prophet fell; Heleon and Hyle, which the springs o'erflow; And Medeon lofty, and Ocalea low; Or in the meads of Haliartus stray, Or Thespis sacred to the god of day. Onchestus, Neptune's celebrated groves; Copa, and Thisbè, fam'd for silver doves, For flocks Erythræ, Glissa for the vine; Platea green, and Nysa the divine. And they whom Thebe's well-built walls enclose, Where Myde, Eutresus, Corone rose; And Arnè rich, with purple harvests crown'd; And Anthedon, Bocotia's utmost bound.