In due repast indulge the genial hour,
And first to Pallas the libations pour:
They sit, rejoicing in her aid divine,
And the crown'd goblet foams with floods of wine.

THE ILIAD.

BOOK XI.

ARGUMENT.

THE THIRD BATTLE, AND THE ACTS OF AGAMEMNON. AGAMEMNON, having armed himself, leads the Grecians to battle: Hector prepares the Trojans to receive them; while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, give the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all before him; and Hector is commanded by Jupiter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline the engagement, till the king shall be wounded and retire from the field He then makes a great slaughter of the enemy; Ulysses and Diomed put a stop to him for a time; but the latter being wounded by Paris, is obliged to desert his companion, who is encompassed by the Trojans, wounded, and in the utmost danger, till Menelaüs and Ajax rescue him. Hector comes against Ajax; but that hero alone opposes multitudes, and rallies the Greeks. In the mean time Machaon, in the other wing of the army, is pierced with an arrow by Paris, and carried from the fight in Nestor's chariot. Achilles (who overlooked the action from his ship) sent Patroclus to inquire which of the Greeks was wounded in that manner? Nestor entertains him in his tent withan account of the accidents of the day, and a long recital of some former wars which he remember d, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight | for his countrymen, or at least permit him to do it, clad in Achilles' armour. Patroclus in his return meets Furypylus also wounded, and assists him in that distress.

This book opens with the eight and twentieth day of the poem; and the same day, with its various actions and adventures, is extended through the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and part of the eighteenth books. The scene lies in the field, near the monument of Ilus.

THE saffron Morn, with early blushes spread,
Now rose refulgent from Tithonius' bed';
With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,
And gild the courts of Heaven with sacred light:
When baleful Eris, sent by Jove's command,
The torch of discord blazing in her hand,
Through the red skies her bloody sign extends,
And, wrapt in tempests, o'er the fleet descends.
High on Ulysses' bark, her horrid stand

She took, and thunder'd through the seas and land.

Ev'n Ajax and Achilles heard the sound,
Whose ships, remote, the guarded navy bound,
Thence the black Fury through the Grecian throng
With horrour sounds the loud Orthian song:
The navy shakes, and at the dire alarms
Each bosom boils, each warrior starts to arms.
No more they sigh, inglorious to return,
But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn,

The king of men his hardy host inspires
With loud command, with great example fires;
Himself first rose, himself before the rest
His mighty limbs in radiant armour drest.
And first he cas'd his manly legs around
In shining greaves, with silver buckles bound:
The beaming cuirass next adorn'd his breast,
The same which once king Cinyras possest:
(The fame of Greece and her assembled host
Had reach'd that monarch on the Cyprian coast;
'Twas then, the friendship of the chief to gain,
This glorious gift he sent, nor sent in vain.)
Ten rows of azure steel the work infold,
Twice ten of tin, and twelve of ductile gold;
Three glittering dragons to the gorget rise,
Whose imitated scales, against the skies
Reflected various light, and arching bow'd,
Like colonr'd rainbows o'er a showery cloud
(Jove's wondrous bow, of three celestial dyes,
Plac'd as a sign to man amid the skies.)
A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder ty'd,
Sustain'd the sword that glitter'd at his side:
Gold was the hilt, a silver sheath encas'd
The shining blade, and golden hangers grac'd.
His buckler's mighty orb was next display'd,
That round the warrior cast a dreadful shade;
Ten zones of brass its ample brim surround,
And twice ten bosses the bright convex crown'd
Tremendous Gorgon frown'd upon its field,
And circling terrours fill'd th' expressive shield;
Within its concave hung a silver thong,
On which a mimic.serpent creeps along;
His azure length in easy waves extends,
Till in three heads th' embroider'd monster ends
Last o'er his brows his fourfold helm he plac'd,
With nodding horse-hair formidably grac'd!
And in his hands two steely javelins wields,
That blaze to Heaven, and lighten all the fields.

That instant Juno and the martial maid
In happy thunders promis'd Greece their aid;
High o'er the chief they clash'd their arms in air
And, leaning from the clouds, expect the war.

Close to the limits of the trench and mound,
The fiery coursers to their chariots bound
'The squires restrain'd: the foot with those who
The lighter arms, rush forward to the field. [wield
To second these, in close array combin'd,
The squadrons spread their sablé wings behind.
Now shouts and tumults wake the tardy Sun,
As with the light the warrior's toils begun.
Ev'n Jove, whose thunder spoke his wrath, distill'd
Red drops of blood o'er all the fatal field;
The woes of men unwilling to survey,
And all the slaughters that must stain the day.

Near Ilus' tomb, in order rang'd around,
The Trojan lines possess'd the rising ground:
There wise Polydamas and Hector stood,
Eneas, honour'd as a guardian god;
Bold Polybus, Agenor the divine,
The brother warriors of Antenor's'line;
With youthful Acamas, whose beauteous face
And fair proportion match'd th' etherial race;

1

ti

Great Hector cover'd with his spacious shield,
Plies all the troops, and orders all the field.
As the red star now shows his sanguine fires
Through the dark clouds, and now in night retires;
Thus through the ranks appear'd the god-like man,
Plung'd in the rear, or blazing in the van;
While streamy sparkles, restless as he flies,
Flash from his arms as lightning from the skies.
As sweating reapers in some wealthy field,
Rang'd in two bands, their crooked weapons wield,
Bear down the furrows, till their labours meet;
Thick falls the heapy harvest at their feet :
So Greece and Troy the field of war divide,
And falling ranks are strow'd on every side,
None stoop'd a thought to base inglorious flight;
But horse to horse, and man to man, they fight.
Not rabid wolves more fierce contest their prey;
Each wounds, each bleeds, but none resign the
day.

Discord with joy the scene of death descries,
And drinks large slaughter at her sanguine eyes:
Discord alone, of all th' immortal train,
Swells the red horrours of this direful plain :
The gods in peace their golden mansions fill,
Rang'd in bright order on th' Olympian hill;
But general murmurs told their griefs above,
And each accus'd the partial will of Jove.
Meanwhile apart, superior, and alone,
Th' eternal monarch on his awful throne,
Wrapt in the blaze of boundless glory sate;
And, fix'd, fulfill'd the just decrees of fate.
On Earth he turn'd his all-considering eyes,
And mark'd the spot where Ilion's towers arise;
The sea with ships, the fields with armies spread,
The victor's rage, the dying and the dead

Thus while the morning-beams increasing bright
O'er Heaven's pure azure spread the glowing

light,

Commutual death the fate of war confounds,
Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds.
But now (what time in some sequester'd vale,
The weary woodman spreads his sparing meal,
When his tir'd arms refuse the axe to rear,
And claim a respite from the sylvan war;
But not till half the prostrate forest lay
Stretch'd in long ruin, and expos'd to day)
Then, nor till then, the Greeks' impulsive might
Piere'd the black phalanx, and let in the light.
Great Agamemnon then the slaughter led,

And slew Bienor at his people's head :

Whose squire Oileus, with a sudden spring,
Leap'd from the chariot to revenge his king;

But in his front he felt the fatal wound,

ground.

Pierc'd in the breast the base-born Isus bleeds :
Cleft through the head, his brother's fate succeeds.
Swift to the spoil the hasty victor falls,
And stript, their features to his mind recalls.
The Trojans see the youths untimely die,
But helpless tremble for themselves, and fly.
So when a lion ranging o'er the lawns,
Finds, on some grassy lair, the couching fawns,
Their bones he cracks, their reeking vitals draws,
And grinds the quivering flesh with bloody jaws;
The frighted hind beholds, and dares not stay,
But swift through rustling thickets bursts her way;
All drown'd in sweat the panting mother flies,
And the big tears roll trickling from her eyes.

Amidst the tumult of the routed train,
The sons of false Antimachus were slain;
He, who for bribes his faithless counsels sold,
And voted Helen's stay for Paris' gold
Atrides mark'd, as these their safety sought,
And slew the children for the father's fault;
Their headstrong horse unable to restrain,
They shook with fear, and dropp'd the silken rein;
Then in their chariot on their knees they fall,
And thus with lifted hands for mercy call:

"Oh spare our youth, and for the life we owe,
Antimachus shall copious gifts bestow;
Soon as he hears, that not in battle slain,
The Grecian ships his captive sons detain,
Large heaps of brass in ransom shall be told,
And steel well-temper'd, and persuasive gold."
These words, attended with a flood of tears,
The youths address'd to unrelenting ears:
The vengeful monarch gave this stern reply-
"If from Antimachus ye spring, ye die:
The daring wretch who once in council stood
To shed Ulysses' and my brother's blood,
For proffer'd peace! and sues his seed for grace!
No, die, and pay the forfeit of your race."

This said, Pisander from the car he cast,
And pierc'd his breast: supine he breath'd his last.
His brother leap'd to earth; but as he lay,
The trenchant falchion lopp'd his hands away;
His sever'd head was toss d among the throng,
And, rolling, drew a bloody train along.
Then, where the thickest fought the victor flew;
The king's example all his Greeks pursue.
Now by the foot the flying foot were slain.
Horse trod by horse, lay foaming on the plain.
From the dry fields thick clouds of dust arise,
Shade the black host, and intercept the skies.
The brass-hoof'd steeds tumultuous plunge and

bound,

And the thick thunder beats the labouring ground.

Which pierc'd his brain, and stretch'd him on the Still slaughtering on, the king of men proceeds;

Atrides spoil'd, and left him on the plain :
Vain was their youth, their glittering armour

vain:

Now soil'd with dust, and naked to the sky,
Their snowy limbs and beautequs bodies lie,
Two sons of Priam next to battle move,
The product one of marriage, one of love!
In the same car the brother warriors ride,
This took the charge to combat, that to guide:
Far other task, than when they wont to keep,

On Ida's tops their father's fleecy sheep!

pliant

These on the mountains once Achilles found,
And captive led, with pliant osiers bound;
Then to their sire for ample sums restor'd;
But now to perish by Atrides' sword;

The distanc'd army wonders at his deeds.
As when the winds with raging flames conspire,
And o'er the forests roll the flood of fire,

In blazing heaps the grove's old honours fall,
And one refulgent ruin levels all;
Before Atrides' rage so sinks the foe,
Whole squadrons vanish, and proud heads lie lowe
The steeds fly trembling from his waving sword;
And many a car, now lighted of its lord,
Wide o'er the field with guideiess fury rolls,
Breaking their ranks, and crushing out their souls;
While his keen falchion drinks the warriors'

lives;

More grateful, now, to vultures than their wives!
Perhaps great Hector then had found his fate,

But Jove and Destiny prolong'd 'd his date.

:

と

(The powers that cause the teeming matron's throes,
Sad mothers of unutterable woes!)

Stung with the smart, all-panting with the pain,
He mounts the car, and gives his squire the rein:
Then with a voice which fury made more strong,
And pain augmented, thus exhorts the throng:

"O friends! O Greeks! assert your honours
Proceed, and finish what this arm begun: [won,
Lo! angry Jove forbids your chief to stay,
And envies half the glories of the day."

He said; the driver whirls his lengthful thong;
The horses fly! the chariot smokes along.
Clouds from their nostrils the fierce coursers blow,
And from their sides the foam descends in snow;
Shot through the battle in a moment's space,
The wounded monarch at his tent they place.
No sooner Hector saw the king retir'd,
But thus his Trojans and his aids he fir'd:
"Hear, all ye Dardan, all ye Lycian race!
Fam'd in close fight, and dreadful face to face,
Now call to mind your ancient trophies won,
Your great forefathers' virtues, and your own.
Behold the general flies! deserts his powers!
Lo, Jove himself declares the conquest ours!
Now on yon ranks impel your foaming steeds;
And, sure of glory, dare immortal deeds."
With words like these the fiery chief alarms
His fainting host, and every bosom warms.
As the bold hunter cheers his hounds, to tear
The brindled lion, or the tusky bear;
With voice and hand provoke their doubting heart,
And springs the foremost with his lifted dart:
So godlike Hector prompts his troops to dare;
Nor prompts alone, but leads himself the war.
On the black body of the foes he pours; [showers,
As from the cloud's deep bosom, swell'd with
A sudden storm the purple ocean sweeps,

Drives the wild waves, and tosses all the deeps.
Say, Muse! when Jove the Trojans' glory crown'd,
Beneath his arm what heroes bit the ground?
Assæus, Dolops, and Autonous dy'd,
Opites next was added to their side;
Then brave Hipponous fam'd in many a fight,
Opheltius, Orus, sunk to endless night:
Asymnus, Agelaus; all chiefs of name;
The rest were vulgar deaths, unknown to fame.
As when a western whirlwind, charg'd with storms,
Dispels the gather'd clouds that Notus forms;
The gust continued, violent, and strong,
Rolls sable clouds in heaps on heaps along;
Now to the skies the foaming billows rears,
Now breaks the surge, and wide the bottom bares:
Thus raging Hector, with resistless hands,
O'erturns, confounds, and scatters all their bands.
Now the last ruin the whole host appals;
Now Greece had trembled in her wooden walls;
But wise Ulysses cal'd Tydides forth,
His soul rekindled, and awak'd his worth.
"And stand we deedless, O eternal shame!
Till Hector's arm involve the ships in flame ?
Haste, let us join, and combat side by side."
The warrior thus: and thus the friend reply'd:
"No martial toil I shun, no danger fear;
Let Hector come; I wait his fury here.
But Jove with conquest crowns the Trojan train;
And, Jove our foe, all human force is vain."
He sigh'd; but, sighing, rais'd his vengeful steel,
And from his car the proud Thymbræus fell:
Molion, the charioteer, pursued his lord,
His death ennobled by Ulysses' sword.

There slain, they left them in eternal night,
Then plung'd amidst the thickest ranks of fight:
So two wild boars outstrip the following hounds,
Then swift revert, and wounds return for wounds.
Stern Hector's conquests in the middle plain
Stood check'd awhile, and Greece respir'd again.

The sons of Merops shone amidst the war;
Towering they rode in one refulgent car:
In deep prophetic arts their father skill'd,
Had warn'd his children from the Trojan field;
Fate urg'd them on; the father warn'd in vain,
They rush'd to fight, and perish'd on the plain !
Their breasts no more the vital spirit warms;
The stern Tydides strips their shining arms.
Hypirochus by great Ulysses dies,
And rich Hippodamus becomes his prize;
Great Jove from Ide with slaughter fills his sight,
And level hangs the doubtful scale of fight.
By Tydeus' lance Agastrophus was slain,
The far-fam'd hero of Pæonian strain;
Wing'd with his fears, on foot he strove to fly,
His steeds too distant, and the foe too nigh;
Through broken orders, swifter than the wind
He fled, but flying left his life behind.
This Hector sees, as his experienc'd eyes
Traverse the files, and to the rescue flies;
Shouts, as he past, the crystal regions rend,
And moving armies on his march attend.
Great Diomed himself was seiz'd with fear,
And thus bespoke his brother of the war: [yield!

Mark how this way yon bending squadrons

The storm rolls on, and Hector rules the field:
Here stand his utmost force."-The warrior said;
Swift at the word his ponderous javelin fled;
Nor miss'd its aim, but where the plumage danc'd,
Raz'd the smooth cone, and thence obliquely
glanc'd.

Safe in his helm (the gift of Phœbus' hands)
Without a wound the Trojan hero stands:
But yet so stunn'd, that, staggering on the plain,
His arm and knee his sinking bulk sustain;
O'er his dim sight the misty vapours rise,
And a short darkness shadeş his swimming eyes.
Tydides follow'd to regain his lance;

While Hector rose, recover'd from the trance:
Remounts his car, and herds amidst the crowd:
The Greek pursues him, and exults aloud:

"Once more thank Phœbus for thy forfeit breath,
Or thank that swiftness which outstrips the death.
Well by Apollo are thy prayers repaid,
And oft that partial power has lent his aid.
Thou shalt not long the death deserv'd withstand,
If any god assist Tydides' hand.
Fly then, inglorious! but thy flight, this day,
Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay."
Him, while he triumph'd, Paris ey'd from far
(The spouse of Helen, the fair cause of war)
Around the fields his feather'd shafts he sent,
From ancient Ilus' ruin'd monument;
Behind the column plac'd, he bent his bow,
And wing'd an arrow at th' unwary foe;
Just as he stoop'd, Agastrophus's crest
To seize, and drew the corselet from his breast,
The bow-string twang'd; nor flew the shaft in vain,
But piere'd his foot, and nail'd it to the plain.
The laughing Trojan, with a joyful spring,
Leaps from his ambush, and insults the king.
"He bleeds!" he cries, some god has sped
my dart;

Would the same god had fixt it in his heart!

: 1

So Troy, reliev'd from that wide-wasting hand,
Should breathe from slaughter, and in combat
stand;

Whose son's now tremble at his darted spear,
As scatter'd lambs the rushing lions fear."

No longer check my conquests on the foe;
But, pierc'd by this, to endless darkness go,
And add one spectre to the realms below!"

He spoke; while Socus, seiz'd with sudden fright,
Trembling gave way, and turn'd bis back to flight;

He dauntless thus: "Thou conqueror of the fair, Between his shoulders pierc'd the following dart,

Thou woman-warrior with the curling hair;
Vain archer! trusting to the distant dart,
Unskill'd in arms to act a manly part!
Thou hast but done what boys or women can;
Such hands may wound, but not incense a man.
Nor boast the scratch thy feeble arrow gave,
A coward's weapon never hurts the brave.
Not so this dart, which thou may'st one day feel:
Fate wings its flight, and death is on the steel.
Where this but lights, some noble life expires;
Its touch makes orphans, bathes the cheeks of sires,
Steeps Earth in purple, gluts the birds of air,
And leaves such objects as distract the fair.
Ulysses hastens with a trembling heart,
Before him steps, and bending draws the dart:
Forth flows the blood; an eager pang succeeds;
Tydides mounts, and to the navy speeds."

Now on the field Ulysses stands alone,
The Greeks all fled, the Trojans pouring on:
But stands collected in himself and whole,
And questions thus his own unconquer'd soul:

"What farther subterfuge, what hopes remain?
What shame, inglorious, if I quit the plain?
What danger, singly if I stand the ground,
My friends all scatter'd, all the foes around?
Yet wherefore doubtful? let this truth suffice;
The brave meets danger, and the coward flies:
To die or conquer, proves a hero's heart;
And knowing this, I know a soldier's part."

Such thoughts revolving in his careful breast,
Near, and more near, the shady cohorts prest;
These, in the warrior, their own fate enclose:
And round him deep the steely circle grows.
So fares a boar, whom all the troop surrounds
Of shooting huntsmen, and of clamorous hounds;
He grinds his ivory tusks; he foams with ire;
His sanguine eye-balls glare with living fire;
By these, by those, on every part is ply'd;
And the red slaughter spreads on every side.
Piered through the shoulder, first Deiopis fell;
Next Ennomus and Thoon sunk to Hell;
Chersdamus, beneath the navel thrust,
Falls prone to earth, and grasps the bloody dust,
Charops, the son of Hippasus, was near;
Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear;
But to his aid his brother Socus flies,
Socus, the brave, the generous, and the wise:
Near as he drew, the warrior thus began:

"O great Ulysses, much-enduring man!
Not deeper skill'd in every martial flight,
Than worn to toils, and active in the fight!
This day two brothers shall thy conquest grace,
And end at once the great Hippasían race,
Or thou beneath this lance must press the field" -
He said, and forceful pierc'd his spacious shield:
Through the strong brass the ringing javelin thrown,
Plough'd half his side, and bar'd it to the bone.
By Pallas' care, the spear, though deep infix'd,
Stopt short of life, nor with his entrails mix'd.

The wound not mortal wise Ulysses knew,
Then furious thus (but first some steps withdrew):
"Unhappy man! whose death our hands shall
grace!

Fate calls thee hence, and finish'd is thy race.

And held its passage through the panting heart.
Wide in his breast appear'd the grizzly wound;
He falls; his armour rings against the ground.
Then thus Ulysses, gazing on the slain:

Fam'd son of Hippasus! there press the plain;
There ends thy narrow span assign'd by Fate,
Heaven owes Ulysses yet a longer date.

Ah, wretch! no father shall thy corpse compose,
Thy dying eyes no tender mother close;
But hungry birds shall tear those balls away,
And hovering vultures scream around their prey.
Me Greece shall honour, when I meet my doom,
With soleinn funerals and a lasting tomb."

Then, raging with intolerable smart,
He writhes his body, and extracts the dart.
The dart a tide of spouting gore pursued,
And gladden'd Troy with sight of hostile blood.
Now troops on troops the fainting chief invade,
Forc'd he recedes, and loudly calls for aid.
Thrice to its pitch his lofty voice he rears;
The well-known voice thrice Menelaus hears:
Alarm'd, to Ajax Telamon he cry'd,

Who shares his labours, and defends his side:
"O friend! Ulysses' shouts invade my ear;
Distress'd he seems, and no assistance near:
Strong as he is; yet, one oppos'd to all,
Oppress'd by multitudes, the best may fall.
Greece, robb'd of him, must bid her host despair,
And feel a loss, not ages can repair."

Then, where the cry directs, his course he bends;
Great Ajax, like the god of war, attends.
The prudent chief in sore distress they found,
With bands of furious Trojans compass'd round.
As when some huntsman, with a flying spear,
From the blind thicket wounds a stately deer;
Down his cleft side while fresh the blood distils,
He bounds aloft, and scuds from hills to hills:
Till, life's warm vapour issuing through the wound,
Wild mountain-wolves the fainting beast sur-

round;

Just as their jaws his prostrate limbs invade,
The lion rushes through the woodland shade,
The wolves, though hungry, scour dispers'd away;
The lordly savage vindicates his prey.
Ulysses thus, unconquer'd by his pains,
A single warrior, half an host sustains:
But soon as Ajax heaves his tower-like shield,
The scatter'd crowds fly frighted o'er the field;
Atrides' arm the sinking hero stays,
And, sav'd from numbers, to his car conveys.

Victorious Ajax plies the routed crew;
And first Doryclus, Priam's son, he slew.
On strong Pandocus next inflicts a wound,
And lays Lysander bleeding on the ground.
As when a torrent, swell'd with wintery rains,
Pours from the mountains o'er the delug'd plains,
And pines and oaks, from their foundations torn,
A country's ruins! to the seas are borne:
Fierce Ajax thus o'erwhelms the yielding throng;
Men, steeds, and chariots, roll in heaps along.

But Hector, from this scene of slaughter far,
Rag'd on the left, and rul'd the tide of war:
Loud groans proclaim his progress through the plain,
And deep Scamander swells with heaps of slain.