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Round the bleak realms where Hellespontus roars,
And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding shores.
With great Euphemus the Ciconians move,
Sprung from Trazenian Ceus, lov'd by Jove.
Pyrechmus 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 Pyloemenes rules,
Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules,
Where Erythinus' rising clifts are seen,
Thy groves of box, Cytorus! ever green;
And where Egyalus and Cromna lie,
And lofty Sesamus invades the sky:

And where Parthenius, roll'd through banks of
Reflects her bordering palaces and bowers. [flowers,
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.

There mighty Chromis led the Mysian train,
And augur Ennomus, inspir'd in vain;
For stern Achilles lopt his sacred head,
Roli'd down Scamander with the vulgar dead.
Phorcis 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 shades of Tmolus hide,
Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake;
Born on the banks of Gyges' silent lake.
There, from the fields where wild Meander flows,
High Mycalè, and Latmos' shady brows,
And proud Miletes, came the Carian throngs,
With mingled clamours, and with barbarous

Amphimachus and Naustes guide the train,
Nates the bold, Amphimachus 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 seiz'd the golden prize.

The forces last in fair array succeed,
Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead;
The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields,
Where gulphy Xanthus foams along the fields.





72 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 war. Iris is sent to call Helena 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 en⚫ sues: wherein Paris being overcome, he 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 mar tial band
Moves into ranks, and stretches o'er the land.
With shouts the Trojans rushing from afar,
Proclaim'd their motions, and provok'd the war;
So when inclement winter vex the plain
With piercing frosts, or thick-descending rain,
To warmer seas, the cranes embody'd fly,
With noise, and order, through the mid-way


To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring,
And all the war descends upon the wing.
But silent, breathing rage, resolv'd and skill'd
By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field,
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 confus'd amidst the thicken'd day:
So, wrapt in gathering dust, the Grecian train,
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 dar'd the bravest of the Grecian race.

As thus, with glorious air and proud disdain, He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain, Him Menelaus, lov'd 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, Prest by bold youths and baying dogs in vain. Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound, In clanging arms he leaps upon the ground From his high chariot: him, approaching near, The beauteous champion views with marks of fear; Sunit with a conscious sense, retires behind, And shuns the fate he well deserv'd to find. As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees Shot forth to view, a scaly serpent sces; Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright, And all confus'd precipitates his flight: So from the king the shining warrior flies, And plung'd amid the thickest Trojans lies.

As god-like Hector sees the prince retreat, He thus upbraids him with a generous heat:

"Unhappy Paris! but to women brave!

So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!

"Hear, all ye Trojans, all ye Grecian bands! What Paris, author of the war, demands.

Oh, hadst thou died when first thou saw'st the light, Your shining swords within the sheath restrain,

Or died at least before thy nuptial rite!
A better fate than vainly thus to boast,
And fly, the scandal of the Trojan host,
Gods! how the scornful Greeks exult to see
Their fears of danger undeceiv'd in thee!
Thy figure promis'd 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 th' approaches of the Spartan queen,
Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize,
And both her warlike lords' outshin'd 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 injur'd whom thou dar'st 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 edg'd to wound, and still untir'd with blows.
Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain,
With falling woods to strow 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, would'st 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 try'd:
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 fam'd for generous steeds, for beauty more."
He said. The challenge Hector heard with joy,
Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy,
Held by the midst, athwart; and near the foe
Advanc'd with steps majestically slow :
While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour
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."
Aw'd by his high command the Greeks attend,
The tumult silence, and the fight suspend.

While from the centre Hector rolls his eyes
On either host, and thus to both applies:

Theseus and Menelaus.

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 caus'd the contest, shall reward the toil.
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 reply'd:
"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 injur'd; all the war be mine.
Fall that he must, beneath his rival's arms;
And live the rest, secure of future harms.
Two lambs, devoted by your country's rite,
To Earth a sable, to the Sun a white,
Prepare, ye Trojans! while a third we bring
Select to Jove, th' inviolable king.
Let reverend Priam in the truce engage,
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 befel, and what may yet befall,
Concludes from both, and best provides for all."

The nations hear, with rising hopes possest,
And peaceful prospects dawn in every breast.
Within the lines they drew their steeds around,
And from their chariots issued on the ground;
Next all, unbuckling the rich mail they wore,
Lay'd their bright arms along the sable shore.
On either side the meeting hosts are seen,
With lances fix'd, and close the space between.
Two heralds now, dispatch'd to Troy, invite
The Phrygian monarch to the peaceful rite:
Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring
The lamb for Jove, th' inviolable king.

Meantime, to beauteous Helen, from the skies
The various goddess of the rain-bow flies
(Like fair Laodicè in form and face
The loveliest nymph of Priam's royal race).
Her in the palace, at her loom she found;
The golden web her own sad story crown'd.
The Trojan wars she weav'd (herself the prize)
And the dire triumph of her fatal eyes.

To whom the goddess of the painted bow;

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Approach and view the wondrous scenes below!
Fach hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight,
So dreadful late, and furious for the fight,
Now rest their spears, or lean upon their shields;
Ceas'd 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 thoughts, and force a tender tear.
O'er her fair face a snowy veil she threw,
And, softly sighing, from the loom withdrew s
Her handmaids Clymenè and Æthra wait
Her silent footsteps to the Scaan gate.

There sat the seniors of the Trojan race,
(Old Priam's chiefs, and most in Priam's grace)

The king the first; Thymoetes at his side;
Lampus and Clytius, long in council try'd ;
Panthus, and Hicetaön, 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 fights engage,
But wise through time, and narrative with age,
la summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice,
A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the
In secret own'd resistless beauty's power: [tower,
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 welcom'd 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.
Bat 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,
Stall, so awful, and almost divine!

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 ceas'd 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


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 be bore a brother's name!"
With wonder Priam view'd the god-like man,
Extoll'd the happy prince, and thus began:
"O blest 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 ?
In Phrygia once were gallant armies known,
In ancient time, when Otrieus fill'd the throne,
When godlike Mygdon led their troops of horse,
And I, to join them, rais'd the Trojan force:
Against the manlike Amazons we stood,
And Sangar's stream ran purple with their blood.
But far inferior those, in martial grace
And strength of numbers, to this Grecian race."
This said, once more he view'd the warrior-


"What's be 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;
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 wond'rous man: When, trusting Jove and hospitable laws, To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause; (Great Menelaus urg'd the same request) My house was honour'd with each royal guest: I knew their persons, and admir'd their parts, Both brave in arms, and both approv'd in arts. Erect, the Spartan most engag'd our view; Ulysses seated greater reverence drew. When Atreus' son harangu'd the listening train, Just was his sense, and his expression plain, His words succinct, yet full, without a fault; He spoke no more than just the thing he ought. But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound, His modest eyes he fixt upon the ground, As one unskill'd or dumb, he seem'd to stand, Nor rais'd his head, nor stretch 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 surprize; Our ears refute the censure of our eyes."

The king then ask'd (as yet the camp he view'd) "What chief is that, with giant strength endued; 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, 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


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,
For distant Troy refus'd to sail the seas:
Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel draws,
Asham'd 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 destin'd victims dowa,
Idæus' arms the golden goblets prest,
Who thus the venerable king addrest:


Arise, father of the Trojan state! The nations call, thy joyful people wait, To seal the truce, and end the dire debat. Paris thy son, and Sparta's king, advance, In measur'd lists to toss the weighty lance; And who his rival shall its arms subdue His be the dame, and his the treasure too. Thus with the lasting league our toils may cease, And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace; So shall the Greeks review their native shore, Much fam'd for generous steeds, for beauty more."


With grief he heard, and bade the chiefs prepare | Whoe'er involv'd us in this dire debate,

To join his milk-white coursers to the car:
He mounts the seat, Antenor at his side;
The gentle steeds through Scæa'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
His cutlace, 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 th' 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 perjur'd 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:
Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And every age record the signal day.
Thus 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 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-


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 refus'd, and mingled with the wind.
The rites now finish'd, reverend Priam rose,
And thus express'd a heart o'ercharg'd with woes.
"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


Heaven only knows, for Heaven disposes all."

This said, the hoary king no longer stay'd,
But on his car the slaughter'd victims laid;
Then seiz'd 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 lanch his pointed spear in air.
The people pray with elevated hands,
And words like these are heard through all the
"Immortal Jove, high Heaven's superiour lord,
On lofty Ida's holy mount ador'd!


Oh give that author of the war to fate
And joyful nations join in leagues of peace."
And shades eternal! let division cease,
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.
Beside each chief his azure armour lay,
Both armies sat the combat to survey,
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 drest,

Brac'd in, and fitted to his softer breast:
A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder ty'd,
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 figur'd shield, a shining orb, he takes,
And in his hand a pointed javelin shakes.
With equal speed, and fir'd by equal charms,
The Spartan hero sheaths his limbs in arms.

Now round the lists the admiring armies stand,
With javelins fix'd, the Greek and Trojan band.
Amidst the dreadful vale, the chiefs advance
All pale with rage, and shake the threatening lance.
The Trojan first his shining javelin threw ;
Full on Atrides' ringing shield it flew;
Nor pierc'd the brazen orb, but with a bound
Leap'd from the buckler, blunted on the ground.
Atrides then his massy lance prepares,

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 th' aggressor, aid my righteous cause,
Avenge the breach of hospitable laws,
Let this example future times reclaim,

He said, and pois'd in air the javelin sent,
And guard from wrong fair friendship's holy name."
Through Paris' shield the forceful weapon went,
His corselet pierces, and his garment rends,
And, glancing downward, near his flank descenda.
The wary Trojan, bending from the blow,
Eludes the death, and disappoints his foe:
But fierce Atrides wav'd his sword, and strock
Full on his casque; the crested helmet shook;
The brittle steel, unfaithful to his hand,
Broke short: the fragments glitter'd on the sand.
The raging warrior to the spacious skies
Rais'd his upbraiding voice, and angry eyes:
"Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust?
And is it thus the gods assist the just?
When crimes provoke us, Heaven success denies;
The dart falls harmless, and the falchion flies."
Furious he said, and tow'rd the Grecian crew
(Seiz'd by the crest) th' unhappy warrior drew;
Struggling he follow'd, while th' embroider'd


That ty'd his helmet, dragg'd the chief along-
Then had his ruin crown'd Atrides' joy,

But Venus trembled for the prince of Troy :
Unseen she came, and burst the golden band;
And left an empty helmet in his hand.

The casque, enrag'd, amidst the Greeks he threw;
The Greeks with smiles the polish'd trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly dart,
In thirst of vengeance, at his rival's heart,

The queen of love her favour'd champion shrouds
(For gods can all things) in a veil of clouds.
Rais'd from the field the panting youth she led,
And gently laid him on the bridal bed,
With pleasing sweets his fainting sense renews,
And all the dome perfumes with heavenly dews.
Meantime the brightest of the female kind,
The matchless Helen, o'er the walls reclin'd;
To her, beset with Trojan beauties, came
In borrow'd form the laughter-loving dame',
(She seem'd an ancient maid, well-skill'd to cull
The snowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The goddess softly shook her silken vest,
That shed perfumes, and whispering thus addrest:
"Haste, happy nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls.
Fair as a god! with odours round him spread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed:
Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
But some gay dancer in the public show."

She spoke, and Helen's secret soul was mov'd;
She scorn'd the champion, but the man she lov❜d.
Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
And breast, reveal'd the queen of soft desire.
Struck with her presence, straight the lively red
Forsook her cheek; and, trembling, thus said:
"Then is it still thy pleasure to deceive?
And woman's frailty always to believe?
Say, to new nations must I cross the main,
Or carry wars to some soft Asian plain ?

For whom must Helen break her second vow?
What other Paris is thy darling now?
Left to Atrides (victor in the stife)
An odious conquest, and a captive wife,
Hence let me sail: and if thy Paris bear
My absence ill, fet Venus ease his care.
A hand-maid goddess at his side to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state,
Be fix'd for ever to the Trojan shore,

His spouse, or slave; and mount the skies no more.
For me, to lawless love no longer led,

I scorn the coward, and detest his bed;
Else should I merit everlasting shame,
And keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame :
Ill suits 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 power from whom thy glories rise:
Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fly,
Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye.
Cease to provoke ine, lest I make thee more
The world's aversion, than their love before;
Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
Then the sad victim of the public rage."

At this, the fairest of her sex obey'd,
And veil'd her blushes in a silken shade,
Unseen, and silent, from the train she moves,
Led by the goddess of the Smiles and Loves.

Arriv'd, and enter'd at the palace-gate,
The maids officious round their mistress wait;
Then all, dispersing, various tasks attend;
The queen and goddess to the prince ascend.
Full in her Paris' sight, the queen of love
Had plac'd the beauteous progeny of Jove;
Where, as he view'd her charms, she turn'd away
Her glowing eyes, and thus began to say:

"Is this the chief, who, lost to sense of shame, Late fied the field, and yet survives his fame ?

! Venus.

Oh badst thou dy'd beneath the righteous sword
Of that brave man whom once I call'd my lord!
The boaster Paris oft desir'd the day
With Sparta's king to meet in single fray:
Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite,
Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight:
Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill'd
Should'st fall an easy conquest on the field."

The prince replies: "Ah cease, 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 business of our life be love:
These softer moments let delight employ,
And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy.
Not thus I lov'd thee, when from Sparta's shore,
My fore'd, my willing, heavenly prize I bore,
When first entranc'd in Cranaë's isle I lay,
Mix'd with thy soul, and all dissolv'd away!"
Thus having spoke, th' enamour'd Phrygian boy
Rush'd to the bed, impatient for the joy.
Him Helen follow'd slow with bashful charms,
And clasp'd the blooming hero in her arms.

While these to love's delicious rapture yield,
The stern Atrides rages round the field:
So some fell lion, whom the woods obey,
Roars through the desert, and demands his prey.
Paris he seeks, impatient to destroy,
But seeks in vain along the troops of Troy ;
Ev'n those had yielded to a foe so brave,
The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave.
Then speaking thus, the king of kings arose!
"Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes!
Hear, and attest! from Heaven with conquest

Our brother's arms the just success have found:
Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restor❜d,
Let Argive Helen own her awful lord;
Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And age to age record this signal day."

He ceas'd his army's loud applauses rise,
And the long shout runs echoing through the skies.




THE BREACH OF THE TRUCE, AND THE FIRST BATT' E, THE gods deliberate in council concerning the Trojan war: they agree upon the continuation of it, and Jupiter sends down Minerva to break the truce. She persuades Pandarus to aim an arrow at Menelaus, who is wounded, but cured by Machaon. In the mean time some of the Trojan troops attack the Greeks. Agamemnon is distinguished in all the parts of a good general; he reviews the troops, and exhorts the leaders, some by praises, and others by reproofs. Nestor is particularly celebrated for his military discipline. The battle joins, and great numbers are slain on both sides.


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