NOW pleasing sleep had seal’d each mortal eye, | |
| Stretch’d in the tents the Grecian leaders lie, | |
| Th’ immortal slumber’d on their thrones above; | |
| All but the ever-wakeful eyes of Jove. | |
| To honour Thetis’ son he bends his care, | 5 |
| And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war: | |
| Then bids an empty Phantom rise to sight, | |
| And thus commands the Vision of the night: | |
| ‘Fly hence, deluding Dream! and, light as air, | |
| To Agamemnon’s ample tent repair. | 10 |
| Bid him in arms draw forth th’ embattled train, | |
| Lead all his Grecians to the dusty plain. | |
| Declare, ev’n now ’t is given him to destroy | |
| The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. | |
| For now no more the Gods with Fate contend, | 15 |
| At Juno’s suit the heav’nly factions end. | |
| Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, | |
| And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending fall.’ | |
| Swift as the word the vain Illusion fled, | |
| Descends, and hovers o’er Atrides’ head; | 20 |
| Clothed in the figure of the Pylian sage, | |
| Renown’d for wisdom, and revered for age; | |
| Around his temples spreads his golden wing, | |
| And thus the flatt’ring Dream deceives the King: | |
| ‘Canst thou, with all a Monarch’s cares oppress’d, | 25 |
| O Atreus’ son! canst thou indulge thy rest? | |
| Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides, | |
| Directs in council, and in war presides, | |
| To whom its safety a whole people owes, | |
| To waste long nights in indolent repose. | 30 |
| Monarch, awake! ’t is Jove’s command I bear, | |
| Thou and thy glory claim his heav’nly care. | |
| In just array draw forth th’ embattled train, | |
| Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain; | |
| Ev’n now, O King! ’t is given thee to destroy | 35 |
| The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. | |
| For now no more the Gods with Fate contend, | |
| At Juno’s suit the heav’nly factions end. | |
| Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, | |
| And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending fall, | 40 |
| Awake, but, waking, this advice approve, | |
| And trust the vision that descends from Jove.’ | |
| The Phantom said; then vanish’d from his sight, | |
| Resolves to air, and mixes with the night. | |
| A thousand schemes the Monarch’s mind employ; | 45 |
| Elate in thought, he sacks untaken Troy; | |
| Vain as he was, and to the future blind; | |
| Nor saw what Jove and secret Fate design’d; | |
| What mighty toils to either host remain, | |
| What scenes of grief, and numbers of the slain! | 50 |
| Eager he rises, and in fancy hears | |
| The voice celestial murm’ring in his ears. | |
| First on his limbs a slender vest he drew, | |
| Around him next the regal mantle threw, | |
| Th’ embroider’d sandals on his feet were tied; | 55 |
| The starry falchion glitter’d at his side: | |
| And last his arm the massy sceptre loads, | |
| Unstain’d, immortal, and the gift of Gods. | |
| Now rosy Morn ascends the court of Jove, | |
| Lifts up her light, and opens day above. | 60 |
| The King dispatch’d his heralds with commands | |
| To range the camp and summon all the bands: | |
| The gath’ring hosts the Monarch’s word obey; | |
| While to the fleet Atrides bends his way. | |
| In his black ship the Pylian Prince he found; | 65 |
| There calls a senate of the peers around: | |
| Th’ assembly placed, the King of Men express’d | |
| The counsels lab’ring in his artful breast: | |
| ‘Friends and confed’rates! with attentive ear | |
| Receive my words, and credit what you hear. | 70 |
| Late as I slumber’d in the shades of night, | |
| A Dream divine appear’d before my sight; | |
| Whose visionary form like Nestor came, | |
| The same in habit, and in mien the same. | |
| The heav’nly Phantom hover’d o’er my head, | 75 |
| And, “Dost thou sleep, O Atreus’ son?” (he said) | |
| “Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides, | |
| Directs in council, and in war presides, | |
| To whom its safety a whole people owes, | |
| To waste long nights in indolent repose. | 80 |
| Monarch, awake! ’t is Jove’s command I bear, | |
| Thou and thy glory claim his heav’nly care; | |
| In just array draw forth th’ embattled train, | |
| And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain. | |
| Ev’n now, O King! ’t is giv’n thee to destroy | 85 |
| The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. | |
| For now no more the Gods with Fate contend, | |
| At Juno’s suit the heav’nly factions end. | |
| Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall, | |
| And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending fall. | 90 |
| This hear observant, and the Gods obey!” | |
| The Vision spoke, and pass’d in air away. | |
| Now, valiant chiefs! since Heav’n itself alarms, | |
| Unite, and rouse the sons of Greece to arms. | |
| But first, with caution, try what yet they dare, | 95 |
| Worn with nine years of unsuccessful war. | |
| To move the troops to measure back the main, | |
| Be mine; and yours the province to detain.’ | |
| He spoke, and sat; when Nestor rising said | |
| (Nestor, whom Pylos’ sandy realms obey’d): | 100 |
| ‘Princes of Greece, your faithful ears incline, | |
| Nor doubt the Vision of the Powers divine; | |
| Sent by great Jove to him who rules the host, | |
| Forbid it, Heav’n! this warning should be lost! | |
| Then let us haste, obey the God’s alarms, | 105 |
| And join to rouse the sons of Greece to arms.’ | |
| Thus spoke the sage: the Kings without delay | |
| Dissolve the council, and their Chief obey: | |
| The sceptred rulers lead; the foll’wing host, | |
| Pour’d forth by thousands, darkens all the coast. | 110 |
| As from some rocky cleft the shepherd sees | |
| Clust’ring in heaps on heaps the driving bees, | |
| Rolling and black’ning, swarms succeeding swarms | |
| With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms; | |
| Dusky they spread, a close-embodied crowd, | 115 |
| And o’er the vale descends the living cloud. | |
| So, from the tents and ships, a length’ning train | |
| Spreads all the beach, and wide o’ershades the plain; | |
| Along the region runs a deaf’ning sound; | |
| Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground. | 120 |
| Fame flies before, the messenger of Jove, | |
| And shining soars, and claps her wings above. | |
| Nine sacred heralds now proclaiming loud | |
| The Monarch’s will, suspend the list’ning crowd. | |
| Soon as the throngs in order ranged appear, | 125 |
| And fainter murmurs died upon the ear, | |
| The King of Kings his awful figure raised; | |
| High in his hand the golden sceptre blazed: | |
| The golden sceptre, of celestial frame, | |
| By Vulcan form’d, from Jove to Hermes came: | 130 |
| To Pelops he th’ immortal gift resign’d; | |
| Th’ immortal gift great Pelops left behind, | |
| In Atreus’ hand, which not with Atreus ends, | |
| To rich Thyestes next the prize descends; | |
| And now, the mark of Agamemnon’s reign, | 135 |
| Subjects all Argos, and controls the main. | |
| On this bright sceptre now the King reclin’d, | |
| And artful thus pronounced the speech design’d; | |
| ‘Ye sons of Mars! partake your leader’s care, | |
| Heroes of Greece, and brothers of the war! | 140 |
| Of partial Jove with justice I complain, | |
| And heav’nly oracles believ’d in vain. | |
| A safe return was promis’d to our toils, | |
| Renown’d, triumphant, and enrich’d with spoils. | |
| Now shameful flight alone can save the host, | 145 |
| Our blood, our treasure, and our glory lost. | |
| So Jove decrees, resistless Lord of all! | |
| At whose command whole empires rise or fall: | |
| He shakes the feeble props of human trust, | |
| And towns and armies humbles to the dust. | 150 |
| What shame to Greece a fruitless war to wage, | |
| Oh lasting shame in ev’ry future age! | |
| Once great in arms, the common scorn we grow, | |
| Repuls’d and baffled by a feeble foe. | |
| So small their number, that, if wars were ceas’d, | 155 |
| And Greece triumphant held a gen’ral feast, | |
| All rank’d by tens; whole decades, when they dine, | |
| Must want a Trojan slave to pour the wine. | |
| But other forces have our hopes o’erthrown, | |
| And Troy prevails by armies not her own. | 160 |
| Now nine long years of mighty Jove are run, | |
| Since first the labours of this war begun; | |
| Our cordage torn, decay’d our vessels lie, | |
| And scarce ensure the wretched power to fly. | |
| Haste then, for ever leave the Trojan wall! | 165 |
| Our weeping wives, our tender children call; | |
| Love, Duty, Safety, summon us away, | |
| ’T is Nature’s voice, and Nature we obey. | |
| Our shatter’d barks may yet transport us o’er, | |
| Safe and inglorious, to our native shore. | 170 |
| Fly, Grecians, fly! your sails and oars employ, | |
| And dream no more of Heav’n-defended Troy.’ | |
| His deep design unknown, the hosts approve | |
| Atrides’ speech. The mighty numbers move. | |
| So roll the billows to th’ Icarian shore, | 175 |
| From east and south when winds begin to roar, | |
| Burst their dark mansions in the clouds, and sweep | |
| The whitening surface of the ruffled deep: | |
| And as on corn when western gusts descend, | |
| Before the blast the lofty harvests bend; | 180 |
| Thus o’er the field the moving host appears, | |
| With nodding plumes and groves of waving spears, | |
| The gath’ring murmur spreads, their trampling feet | |
| Beat the loose sands, and thicken to the fleet. | |
| With long-resounding cries they urge the train | 185 |
| To fit the ships, and launch into the main. | |
| They toil, they sweat, thick clouds of dust arise, | |
| The doubling clamours echo thro’ the skies. | |
| Ev’n then the Greeks had left the hostile plain, | |
| And Fate decreed the fall of Troy in vain; | 190 |
| But Jove’s imperial Queen their flight survey’d, | |
| And sighing thus bespoke the blue-eyed maid: | |
| ‘Shall then the Grecians fly? O dire disgrace! | |
| And leave unpunish’d this perfidious race? | |
| Shall Troy, shall Priam, and the adult’rous spouse, | 195 |
| In peace enjoy the fruits of broken vows? | |
| And bravest chiefs, in Helen’s quarrel slain, | |
| Lie unavenged on yon detested plain? | |
| No: let my Greeks, unmov’d by vain alarms, | |
| Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms. | 200 |
| 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, | 205 |
| 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! | |
| Thus fly the Greeks?’ (the Martial Maid begun) | 210 |
| ‘Thus to their country bear their own disgrace, | |
| And Fame eternal leave to Priam’s race? | |
| Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed, | |
| Still unrevenged a thousand heroes bleed? | |
| Haste, gen’rous Ithacus! prevent the shame, | 215 |
| Recall your armies, and your chiefs reclaim. | |
| Your own resistless eloquence employ, | |
| And to th’ immortals trust the fall of Troy.’ | |
| The voice divine confess’d the Warlike Maid, | |
| Ulysses heard, nor uninspired obey’d: | 220 |
| Then, meeting first Atrides, from his hand | |
| Receiv’d th’ imperial sceptre of command. | |
| Thus graced, attention and respect to gain, | |
| He runs, he flies thro’ all the Grecian train, | |
| Each Prince of name, or Chief in arms approv’d, | 225 |
| He fired 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. | 230 |
| 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 clam’rous vile plebeian rose, | 235 |
| Him with reproof he check’d or tamed 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 number of a land. | 240 |
| 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 ruled, | 245 |
| The loudest silenc’d, and the fiercest cool’d. | |
| Back to th’ assembly roll the thronging train, | |
| Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain. | |
| Murm’ring they move, as when old Ocean roars, | |
| And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores: | 250 |
| 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, | 255 |
| Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue: | |
| Awed by no shame, by no respect controll’d, | |
| In scandal busy, in reproaches bold; | |
| With witty malice studious to defame; | |
| Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim. | 260 |
| But chief he gloried with licentious style | |
| To lash the great, and monarchs to revile. | |
| His figure such as might his soul proclaim: | |
| One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame: | |
| His mountain-shoulders half his breast o’erspread; | 265 |
| Thin hairs bestrew’d his long misshapen head. | |
| Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess’d, | |
| And much he hated all, but most the best. | |
| Ulysses or Achilles still his theme; | |
| But royal scandal his delight supreme. | 270 |
| Long had he lived the scorn of ev’ry Greek; | |
| Vex’d when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak. | |
| Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone, | |
| Thus with injurious taunts attack’d the throne: | |
| ‘Amidst the glories of so bright a reign, | 275 |
| What moves the great Atrides to complain? | |
| ’T is 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. | 280 |
| 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 Ilion’s hostile towers, | |
| And bring the race of royal bastards here, | 285 |
| For Troy to ransom at a price too dear? | |
| But safer plunder thy own host supplies; | |
| Say, wouldst thou seize some valiant leader’s prize? | |
| Or, if thy heart to gen’rous love be led, | |
| Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed? | 290 |
| Whate’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. | 295 |
| We may be wanted on some busy day, | |
| When Hector comes: so great Achilles may: | |
| From him be forced the prize we jointly gave, | |
| From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave: | |
| And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong, | 300 |
| This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long.’ | |
| Fierce from his seat, at this, Ulysses springs | |
| In gen’rous vengeance of the King of Kings. | |
| With indignation sparkling in his eyes, | |
| He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies: | 305 |
| ‘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 mad, asperse the sov’reign reign. | |
| Have we not known thee, Slave! of all our host, | 310 |
| The man who acts the least, upbraids the most? | |
| Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring, | |
| Nor let those lips profane the name of King. | |
| For our return we trust the heav’nly powers; | |
| Be that their care; to fight like men be ours. | 315 |
| But grant the host with wealth the gen’ral 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, | 320 |
| 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 scourged, and howling thro’ the fleet.’ | 325 |
| He said, and cow’ring 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, | 330 |
| From his vile visage wiped the scalding tears. | |
| While to his neighbour 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! | 335 |
| Gen’rous he rises in the Crown’s defence, | |
| To curb the factious tongue of insolence. | |
| Such just examples on offenders shewn | |
| Sedition silence, and assert the throne.’ | |
| ’T was thus the gen’ral voice the hero praised | 340 |
| Who, rising high, th’ imperial sceptre rais’d: | |
| The blue-eyed 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 heav’nly tongue. | 345 |
| 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 gen’rous vow, | 350 |
| 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? | 355 |
| What heart but melts to leave the tender train, | |
| And, one short month, endure the wintry 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, | 360 |
| 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 giv’n, | |
| And try the faith of Calchas and of Heav’n. | 365 |
| 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 blazed | |
| (’T was where the plane-tree spread its shades around); | 370 |
| 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 spires he roll’d, | |
| And curl’d around in many a winding fold. | 375 |
| The topmost branch a mother-bird possess’d; | |
| Eight 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 hov’ring near, with miserable moan, | 380 |
| The drooping mother wail’d her children gone. | |
| The mother last, as round the nest she flew, | |
| Seiz’d by the beating wing, the moster slew: | |
| Nor long survived; to marble turn’d he stands | |
| A lasting prodigy on Aulis’ sands, | 385 |
| Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare | |
| Trust in his omen, and support the war. | |
| For while around we gazed with wond’ring eyes, | |
| And trembling sought the Powers with sacrifice, | |
| Full of his God, the rev’rend Calchas cried; | 390 |
| “Ye Grecian warriors! lay your fears aside: | |
| This wondrous signal Jove himself displays, | |
| Of long, long labours, but eternal praise, | |
| As many birds as by the snake were slain, | |
| So many years the toils of Greece remain; | 395 |
| 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, | 400 |
| The hollow ships each deaf’ning 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? | 405 |
| 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; | 410 |
| 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. | 415 |
| On that great day when first the martial train, | |
| Big with the fate of Ilion, plough’d the main; | |
| Jove on the right a prosp’rous signal sent, | |
| And thunder rolling shook the firmament. | |
| Encouraged hence, maintain the glorious strife, | 420 |
| Till ev’ry soldier grasp a Phrygian wife, | |
| Till Helen’s woes at full revenged appear, | |
| And Troy’s proud matrons render tear for tear. | |
| Before that day, if any Greek invite | |
| His country’s troops to base, inglorious flight, | 425 |
| 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 counsels, let not mine be vain; | 430 |
| In tribes and nations to divide thy train: | |
| His sep’rate troops let ev’ry leader call, | |
| Each strengthen each, and all encourage all. | |
| What Chief, or soldier, of the numerous band, | |
| Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command, | 435 |
| 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 | 440 |
| In arts of council, and in speaking well! | |
| Oh would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree | |
| But ten such sages as they grant in thee; | |
| Such wisdom soon should Priam’s force destroy, | |
| And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy! | 445 |
| But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates | |
| In fierce contention and in vain debates. | |
| Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws, | |
| By me provoked; a captive maid the cause: | |
| If e’er as friends we join, the Trojan wall | 450 |
| 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; | 455 |
| 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, | 460 |
| Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall; | |
| Till bathed in sweat be ev’ry manly breast, | |
| With the huge shield each brawny arm depress’d, | |
| Each aching nerve refuse the lance to throw, | |
| And each spent courser at the chariot blow. | 465 |
| 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, | 470 |
| Loud 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; | 475 |
| With hasty feasts 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, | 480 |
| 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 placed; | |
| And Menelaus came unbid, the last. | 485 |
| The Chiefs surround the destin’d beast, and take | |
| The sacred off’ring of the salted cake: | |
| When thus the King prefers his solemn prayer: | |
| ‘Oh thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air, | |
| Who in the Heav’n of Heav’ns hast fix’d thy throne, | 490 |
| Supreme of Gods! 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, | 495 |
| In Hector’s breast be plunged this shining sword, | |
| And slaughter’d heroes groan around their lord!’ | |
| Thus pray’d the Chief: his unavailing prayer | |
| Great Jove refused, and toss’d in empty air: | |
| The God, averse, while yet the fumes arose, | 500 |
| Prepar’d new toils, and doubled woes on woes. | |
| Their prayers perform’d, the Chiefs the rites pursue, | |
| The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew. | |
| The limbs they sever from th’ enclosing hide, | |
| The thighs, selected to the Gods, divide. | 505 |
| 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 sacrificed and entrails dress’d, | 510 |
| Th’ 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 suppress’d, | |
| The gen’rous Nestor thus the Prince address’d: | 515 |
| ‘Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms, | |
| And call the squadrons sheathed in brazen arms: | |
| Now seize th’ occasion, now the troops survey, | |
| And lead to war when Heav’n directs the way.’ | |
| He said; the Monarch issued his commands; | 520 |
| Straight the loud heralds call the gath’ring bands. | |
| The Chiefs enclose their King: the hosts divide, | |
| In tribes and nations rank’d on either side. | |
| High in the midst the blue-eyed Virgin flies; | |
| From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes: | 525 |
| The dreadful ægis, Jove’s immortal shield, | |
| Blazed on her arm, and lighten’d all the field: | |
| Round the vast orb a hundred serpents roll’d, | |
| Form’d the bright fringe, and seem’d to burn in gold. | |
| With this each Grecian’s manly breast she warms, | 530 |
| Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous arms; | |
| No more they sigh inglorious to return, | |
| But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn. | |
| As on some mountain, thro’ the lofty grove, | |
| The crackling flames ascend and blaze above, | 535 |
| The fires, 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’ embodied cranes, | 540 |
| Or milk-white swans in Asius’ wat’ry plains, | |
| That o’er the windings of Caÿster’s springs | |
| Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling wings, | |
| Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds; | |
| Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds. | 545 |
| Thus numerous and confused, extending wide, | |
| The legions crowd Scamander’s flow’ry side; | |
| With rushing troops the plains are cover’d o’er, | |
| And thund’ring footsteps shake the sounding shore; | |
| Along the river’s level meads they stand, | 550 |
| Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, | |
| Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play, | |
| The wand’ring nation of a summer’s day, | |
| That, drawn by milky steams, at ev’ning hours, | |
| In gather’d swarms surround the rural bowers; | 555 |
| From pail to pail with busy murmur run | |
| The gilded legions, glitt’ring in the sun. | |
| So throng’d, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood | |
| In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood. | |
| Each leader now his scatter’d force conjoins | 560 |
| In close array, and forms the deep’ning lines. | |
| Not with more ease the skilful shepherd swain | |
| Collects his flock from thousands on the plain. | |
| The King of Kings, majestically tall, | |
| Towers o’er his armies, and outshines them all: | 565 |
| 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, | 570 |
| And dawning conquest play’d around his head. | |
| Say, Virgins, seated round the throne divine, | |
| All-knowing Goddesses! immortal Nine! | |
| Since earth’s wide regions, Heav’n’s unmeasured height, | |
| And Hell’s abyss, hide nothing from your sight | 575 |
| (We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below, | |
| But guess by rumour, and but boast we know), | |
| Oh say what heroes, fired by thirst of fame, | |
| Or urged by wrongs, to Troy’s destruction came? | |
| To count them all, demands a thousand tongues, | 580 |
| A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs; | |
| Daughters of Jove, assist! inspired 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. | 585 |
| The hardy warriors whom Bœotia bred, | |
| Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoënor led: | |
| With these Arcesilaus and Clonius stand, | |
| Equal in arms, and equal in command. | |
| These head the troops that rocky Aulis yields, | 590 |
| And Eteon’s hills, and Hyrie’s wat’ry fields, | |
| And Schœnos, Scolos, Græa near the main, | |
| And Mycalessia’s ample piny plain. | |
| Those who in Peteon or Ilesion dwell, | |
| Or Harma, where Apollo’s prophet fell; | 595 |
| Heleon and Hyle, which the springs o’erflow; | |
| And Medeon lofty, and Ocalea low; | |
| Or in the meads of Haliartus stray, | |
| Or Thespia, sacred to the God of Day. | |
| Onchestus, Neptune’s celebrated groves; | 600 |
| Copæ, and Thisbè, famed for silver doves, | |
| For flocks Erythræ, Glissa for the vine; | |
| Platæa green, and Nisa the divine. | |
| And they whom Thebes’ well-built walls enclose, | |
| Where Myde, Eutresis, Coronè rose; | 605 |
| And Arne rich, with purple harvests crown’d; | |
| And Anthedon, Bœotia’s utmost bound. | |
| Full fifty ships they send, and each conveys | |
| Twice sixty warriors thro’ the foaming seas. | |
| To these succeed Asplendon’s martial train, | 610 |
| Who plough the spacious Orchomenian plain. | |
| Two valiant brothers rule th’ undaunted throng, | |
| Iälmen and Ascalaphus the strong, | |
| Sons of Astyoche, the heav’nly Fair, | |
| Whose virgin charms subdued the God of War | 615 |
| (In Actor’s court as she retired to rest, | |
| The strength of Mars the blushing maid compress’d): | |
| Their troops in thirty sable vessels sweep, | |
| With equal oars, the hoarse-resounding deep. | |
| The Phocians next in forty barks repair, | 620 |
| Epistrophus and Schedius head the war; | |
| From those rich regions where Cephissus leads | |
| His silver current thro’ the flowery meads; | |
| From Panopea, Chrysa the divine, | |
| Where Anemoria’s stately turrets shine, | 625 |
| Where Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus stood, | |
| And fair Lilæa views the rising flood. | |
| These, ranged in order on the floating tide, | |
| Close, on the left, the bold Bœotians’ side. | |
| Fierce Ajax led the Locrian squadrons on, | 630 |
| Ajax the less, Oïleus’ valiant son; | |
| Skill’d to direct the flying dart aright; | |
| Swift in pursuit, and active in the fight. | |
| Him, as their chief, the chosen troops attend, | |
| Which Bessa, Thronus, and rich Cynos send; | 635 |
| Opus, Calliarus, and Scarphe’s bands; | |
| And those who dwell where pleasing Augia stands, | |
| And where Boägrius floats the lowly lands, | |
| Or in fair Tarphe’s sylvan seats reside; | |
| In forty vessels cut the yielding tide. | 640 |
| Eubœa next her martial sons prepares, | |
| And sends the brave Abantes to the wars; | |
| Breathing revenge, in arms they take their way | |
| From Chalcis’ walls, and strong Eretria; | |
| Th’ Isteian fields for gen’rous vines renown’d, | 645 |
| The fair Carystos, and the Styrian ground; | |
| Where Dios from her towers o’erlooks the plain, | |
| And high Cerinthus views the neighb’ring main, | |
| Down their broad shoulders falls a length of hair; | |
| Their hands dismiss not the long lance in air: | 650 |
| But with portended spears, in fighting fields, | |
| Pierce the tough corselets and the brazen shields. | |
| Twice twenty ships transport the warlike bands, | |
| Which bold Elphenor, fierce in arms, commands. | |
| Full fifty more from Athens stem the main, | 655 |
| Led by Menestheus thro’ the liquid plain | |
| (Athens the fair, where great Erectheus sway’d, | |
| That owed his nurture to the blue-eyed maid, | |
| But from the teeming furrow took his birth, | |
| The mighty offspring of the foodfull earth. | 660 |
| Him Pallas placed amidst her wealthy fane, | |
| Ador’d with sacrifice and oxen slain; | |
| Where as the years revolve her altars blaze, | |
| And all the tribes resound the Goddess’ praise). | |
| No Chief like thee, Menestheus! Greece could yield, | 665 |
| To marshal armies in the dusty field, | |
| Th’ extended wings of battle to display, | |
| Or close th’ embodied host in firm array. | |
| Nestor alone, improv’d by length of days, | |
| For martial conduct bore an equal praise. | 670 |
| With these appear the Salaminian bands, | |
| Whom the gigantic Telamon commands; | |
| In twelve black ships to Troy they steer their course, | |
| And with the great Athenians join their force. | |
| Next move to war the gen’rous Argive train | 675 |
| From high Trœzene, and Maseta’s plain, | |
| And fair Ægina circled by the main: | |
| Whom strong Tirynthe’s lofty walls surround, | |
| And Epidaure with viny harvests crown’d: | |
| And where fair Asinen and Hermion shew | 680 |
| Their cliffs above, and ample bay below. | |
| These by the brave Euryalus were led, | |
| Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed, | |
| But Chief Tydides bore the sov’reign sway; | |
| In fourscore barks they plough the wat’ry way. | 685 |
| The proud Mycene arms her martial powers, | |
| Cleone, Corinth, with imperial towers, | |
| Fair Aræthyrea, Ornia’s fruitful plain, | |
| And Ægion, and Adrastus’ ancient reign; | |
| And those who dwell along the sandy shore, | 690 |
| And where Pellene yields her fleecy store, | |
| Where Helice and Hyperesia lie, | |
| And Gonoëssa’s spires salute the sky. | |
| Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band, | |
| A hundred vessels in long order stand, | 695 |
| And crowded nations wait his dread command. | |
| High on the deck the King of men appears, | |
| And his refulgent arms in triumph wears; | |
| Proud of his host, unrivall’d in his reign, | |
| In silent pomp he moves along the main. | 700 |
| His brother follows, and to vengeance warms | |
| The hardy Spartans, exercised in arms: | |
| Phares and Brysia’s valiant troops, and those | |
| Whom Lacedæmon’s lofty hills enclose: | |
| Or Messe’s towers for silver doves renown’d, | 705 |
| Amyclæ, Laäs, Augia’s happy ground, | |
| And those whom Œtylos’ low walls contain, | |
| And Helos on the margin of the main: | |
| These o’er the bending ocean, Helen’s cause | |
| In sixty ships with Menelaus draws: | 710 |
| Eager and loud, from man to man he flies, | |
| Revenge and fury flaming in his eyes; | |
| While, vainly fond, in fancy oft he hears | |
| The fair one’s grief, and sees her falling tears. | |
| In ninety sail, from Pylos’ sandy coast, | 715 |
| Nestor the sage conducts his chosen host: | |
| From Amphigenia’s ever-fruitful land; | |
| Where Æpy high, and little Pteleon stand: | |
| Where beauteous Arene her structures shows, | |
| And Thryon’s walls Alpheüs’ streams enclose: | 720 |
| And Dorion, famed for Thamyris’ disgrace, | |
| Superior once of all the tuneful race, | |
| Till, vain of mortal’s empty praise, he strove | |
| To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove! | |
| Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride | 725 |
| Th’ immortal Muses in their art defied. | |
| Th’ avenging Muses of the light of day | |
| Deprived his eyes, and snatch’d his voice away; | |
| No more his heav’nly voice was heard to sing; | |
| His hand no more awaked the silver string. | 730 |
| Where under high Cyllenè, crown’d with wood, | |
| The shaded tomb of old Æpytus stood; | |
| From Ripè, Stratie, Tegea’s bord’ring towns, | |
| The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs, | |
| Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove; | 735 |
| And Stymphelus with her surrounding grove, | |
| Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclin’d, | |
| And high Enispè shook by wintry wind, | |
| And fair Mantinea’s ever-pleasing site; | |
| In sixty sail th’ Arcadian bands unite. | 740 |
| Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head | |
| (Ancæus’ son), the mighty squadron led. | |
| Their ships, supplied by Agamemnon’s care, | |
| Thro’ roaring seas the wond’ring warriors bear; | |
| The first to battle on th’ appointed plain, | 745 |
| But new to all the dangers of the main. | |
| Those, where fair Elis and Buprasium join; | |
| Whom Hyrmin, here, and Myrsinus confine, | |
| And bounded there, where o’er the valleys rose | |
| Th’ Olenian rock; and where Alisium flows; | 750 |
| Beneath four Chiefs (a numerous army) came: | |
| The strength and glory of th’ Epean name. | |
| In sep’rate squadrons these their train divide, | |
| Each leads ten vessels thro’ the yielding tide. | |
| One was Amphimachus, and Thalpius one; | 755 |
| (Eurytus’ this, and that Teätus’ son): | |
| Diores sprung from Amarynceus’ line; | |
| And great Polyxenus, of force divine. | |
| But those who view fair Elis o’er the seas | |
| From the blest islands of th’ Echinades, | 760 |
| In forty vessels under Meges move, | |
| Begot by Phyleus, the belov’d of Jove. | |
| To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled, | |
| And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led. | |
| Ulysses follow’d thro’ the wat’ry road, | 765 |
| A Chief, in wisdom equal to a God. | |
| With those whom Cephallenia’s isle enclosed, | |
| Or till their fields along the coast opposed; | |
| Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the floods, | |
| Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods, | 770 |
| Where Ægilipa’s rugged sides are seen, | |
| Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green. | |
| These, in twelve galleys with vermillion prores, | |
| Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores. | |
| Thoas came next, Andræmon’s valiant son, | 775 |
| From Pleuron’s walls and chalky Calydon, | |
| And rough Pylenè, and th’ Olenian steep, | |
| And Chalcis, beaten by the rolling deep. | |
| He led the warriors from th’ Ætolian shore, | |
| For now the sons of Œneus were no more! | 780 |
| The glories of the mighty race were fled! | |
| Œneus himself, and Meleager dead! | |
| To Thoas’ care now trust the martial train: | |
| His forty vessels follow thro’ the main. | |
| Next eighty barks the Cretan King commands, | 785 |
| Of Gnossus, Lyctus, and Gortyna’s bands, | |
| And those who dwell where Rhytion’s domes arise, | |
| Or white Lycastus glitters to the skies, | |
| Or where by Phæstus silver Jardan runs; | |
| Crete’s hundred cities pour forth all her sons. | 790 |
| These march’d, Idomeneus, beneath thy care, | |
| And Merion, dreadful as the God of War. | |
| Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules, | |
| Led nine swift vessels thro’ the foamy seas; | |
| From Rhodes, with everlasting sunshine bright, | 795 |
| Jalyssus, Lindus and Camirus white. | |
| His captive mother fierce Alcides bore | |
| From Ephyr’s walls, and Sellè’s winding shore, | |
| Where mighty towns in ruins spread the plain, | |
| And saw their blooming warriors early slain. | 800 |
| The hero, when to manly years he grew, | |
| Alcides’ uncle, old Licymnius, slew; | |
| For this constrain’d to quit his native place, | |
| And shun the vengeance of th’ Herculean race, | |
| A fleet he built, and with a numerous train | 805 |
| Of willing exiles, wander’d o’er the main; | |
| Where, many seas and many suff’rings past, | |
| On happy Rhodes the Chief arrived at last: | |
| There in three tribes divides his native band, | |
| And rules them peaceful in a foreign land; | 810 |
| Increas’d and prosper’d in their new abodes | |
| By mighty Jove, the sire of men and Gods; | |
| With joy they saw the growing empire rise, | |
| And showers of wealth descending from the skies. | |
| Three ships with Nireus sought the Trojan shore, | 815 |
| Nireus, whom Aglaë to Charopus bore, | |
| Nireus, in faultless shape, and blooming grace, | |
| The loveliest youth of all the Grecian race; | |
| Pelides only match’d his early charms; | |
| But few his troops, and small his strength in arms. | 820 |
| Next thirty galleys cleave the liquid plain, | |
| Of those Calydnæ’s sea-girt isles contain; | |
| With them the youth of Nisyrus repair, | |
| Casus the strong, and Crapathus the fair; | |
| Cos, where Eurypylus possess’d the sway, | 825 |
| Till great Alcides made the realms obey: | |
| These Antiphus and bold Phidippus bring, | |
| Sprung from the God by Thessalus the King. | |
| Now, Muse, recount Pelasgic Argos’ powers, | |
| From Alos, Alopè, and Trechin’s towers; | 830 |
| From Phthia’s spacious vales; and Hella, bless’d | |
| With female beauty far beyond the rest. | |
| Full fifty ships beneath Achilles’ care | |
| Th’ Achaians, Myrmidons, Hellenians bear; | |
| Thessalians all, tho’ various in their name, | 835 |
| The same their nation, and their Chief the same. | |
| But now inglorious, stretch’d along the shore, | |
| They hear the brazen voice of war no more; | |
| No more the foe they face in dire array: | |
| Close in his fleet their angry leader lay; | 840 |
| Since fair Briseïs from his arms was torn, | |
| The noblest spoil from sack’d Lyrnessus borne, | |
| Then, when the Chief the Theban walls o’erthrew, | |
| And the bold sons of great Evenus slew. | |
| There mourn’d Achilles, plunged in depth of care, | 845 |
| But soon to rise in slaughter, blood, and war. | |
| To these the youth of Phylacè succeed, | |
| Itona, famous for her fleecy breed, | |
| And grassy Pteleon deck’d with cheerful greens, | |
| The bowers of Ceres, and the sylvan scenes, | 850 |
| Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming flowerets crown’d, | |
| And Antron’s wat’ry dens, and cavern’d ground. | |
| These own’d as Chief Protesilas the brave, | |
| Who now lay silent in the gloomy grave: | |
| The first who boldly touch’d the Trojan shore, | 855 |
| And dyed a Phrygian lance with Grecian gore; | |
| There lies, far distant from his native plain; | |
| Unfinish’d his proud palaces remain, | |
| And his sad consort beats her breast in vain. | |
| His troops in forty ships Podarces led, | 860 |
| Iphiclus’ son, and brother to the dead; | |
| Nor he unworthy to command the host; | |
| Yet still they mourn’d their ancient leader lost. | |
| The men who Glaphyra’s fair soil partake, | |
| Where hills encircle Bœbe’s lowly lake, | 865 |
| Where Pheræ hears the neighb’ring waters fall, | |
| Or proud Iolcus lifts her airy wall, | |
| In ten black ships embark’d for Ilion’s shore, | |
| With bold Eumelus, whom Alcestè bore: | |
| All Pelias’ race Alcestè far outshined, | 870 |
| The grace and glory of the beauteous kind. | |
| The troops Methonè or Thaumacia yields, | |
| Olizon’s rocks, or Melibœa’s fields, | |
| With Philoctetes sail’d, whose matchless art | |
| From the tough bow directs the feather’d dart. | 875 |
| Seven were his ships: each vessel fifty row, | |
| Skill’d in his science of the dart and bow. | |
| But he lay raging on the Lemnian ground; | |
| A pois’nous Hydra gave the burning wound; | |
| There groan’d the Chief in agonizing pain, | 880 |
| Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in vain. | |
| His forces Medon led from Lemnos’ shore, | |
| Oïleus’ son, whom beauteous Rhena bore. | |
| Th’ Œchalian race, in those high towers contain’d, | |
| Where once Eurytus in proud triumph reign’d, | 885 |
| Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears, | |
| Or where Ithomè, rough with rocks, appears; | |
| In thirty sail the sparkling waves divide, | |
| Which Podalirius and Machaon guide. | |
| To these his skill their Parent-god imparts, | 890 |
| Divine professors of the healing arts. | |
| The bold Ormenian and Asterian bands | |
| In forty barks Eurypylus commands, | |
| Where Titan hides his hoary head in snow, | |
| And where Hyperia’s silver fountains flow. | 895 |
| Thy troops, Argissa, Polypœtes leads, | |
| And Eleon, shelter’d by Olympus’ shades, | |
| Grytonè’s warriors; and where Orthè lies, | |
| And Oloösson’s chalky cliffs arise. | |
| Sprung from Pirithoüs of immortal race, | 900 |
| The fruit of fair Hippodame’s embrace | |
| (That day, when, hurl’d from Pelion’s cloudy head, | |
| To distant dens the shaggy Centaurs fled), | |
| With Polypœtes join’d in equal sway, | |
| Leonteus leads, and forty ships obey. | 905 |
| In twenty sail the bold Perrhæbians came | |
| From Cyphus, Guneus was their leader’s name. | |
| With these the Enians join’d, and those who freeze | |
| Where cold Dodona lifts her holy trees; | |
| Or where the pleasing Titaresius glides, | 910 |
| And into Peneus rolls his easy tides; | |
| Yet o’er the silver surface pure they flow, | |
| The sacred stream unmix’d with streams below, | |
| Sacred and awful! From the dark abodes | |
| Styx pours them forth, the dreadful oath of Gods! | 915 |
| Last under Prothous the Magnesians stood, | |
| Prothous the swift, of old Tenthredon’s blood; | |
| Who dwell where Pelion, crown’d with piny boughs, | |
| Obscures the glade, and nods his shaggy brows: | |
| Or where thro’ flowery Tempè Peneus stray’d | 920 |
| (The region stretch’d beneath his mighty shade): | |
| In forty sable barks they stemm’d the main; | |
| Such were the Chiefs, and such the Grecian train. | |
| Say next, O Muse! of all Achaia breeds, | |
| Who bravest fought, or rein’d the noblest steeds? | 925 |
| Eumelus’ mares were foremost in the chase, | |
| As eagles fleet, and of Pheretian race; | |
| Bred where Pieria’s fruitful fountains flow, | |
| And train’d by him who bears the silver bow. | |
| Fierce in the fight, their nostrils breathed a flame, | 930 |
| Their height, their colour, and their age, the same; | |
| O’er fields of death they whirl the rapid car, | |
| And break the ranks, and thunder thro’ the war. | |
| Ajax in arms the first renown acquired, | |
| While stern Achilles in his wrath retired | 935 |
| (His was the strength that mortal might exceeds, | |
| And his th’ unrivall’d race of heav’nly steeds): | |
| But Thetis’ son now shines in arms no more; | |
| His troops, neglected on the sandy shore, | |
| In empty air their sportive jav’lins throw, | 940 |
| Or whirl the disk, or bend an idle bow: | |
| Unstain’d with blood his cover’d chariots stand; | |
| Th’ immortal coursers graze along the strand; | |
| But the brave Chiefs th’ inglorious life deplor’d, | |
| And, wand’ring o’er the camp, required their lord. | 945 |
| Now, like a deluge, cov’ring all around, | |
| The shining armies swept along the ground; | |
| Swift as a flood of fire, when storms arise, | |
| Floats the wide field, and blazes to the skies. | |
| Earth groan’d beneath them; as when angry Jove | 950 |
| Hurls down the forky lightning from above, | |
| On Arimè when he the thunder throws, | |
| And fires Typhœus with redoubled blows, | |
| Where Typhon, press’d beneath the burning load, | |
| Still feels the fury of th’ avenging God. | 955 |
| But various Iris, Jove’s commands to bear, | |
| Speeds on the wings of winds thro’ liquid air; | |
| In Priam’s porch the Trojan Chiefs she found, | |
| The old consulting, and the youths around. | |
| Polites’ shape, the monarch’s son, she chose, | 960 |
| Who from Æsetes’ tomb observ’d the foes, | |
| High on the mound; from whence in prospect lay | |
| The fields, the tents, the navy, and the bay. | |
| In this dissembled form she hastes to bring | |
| Th’ unwelcome message to the Phrygian King: | 965 |
| ‘Cease to consult, the time for action calls, | |
| War, horrid war, approaches to your walls! | |
| Assembled armies oft have I beheld, | |
| But ne’er till now such numbers charged a field. | |
| Thick as autumnal leaves, or driving sand, | 970 |
| The moving squadrons blacken all the strand. | |
| Thou, godlike Hector! all thy force employ, | |
| Assemble all th’ united bands of Troy; | |
| In just array let every leader call | |
| The foreign troops: this day demands them all.’ | 975 |
| The voice divine the mighty Chief alarms; | |
| The council breaks, the warriors rush to arms. | |
| The gates unfolding pour forth all their train, | |
| Nations on nations fill the dusky plain, | |
| Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling ground; | 980 |
| The tumult thickens, and the skies resound. | |
| Amidst the plain in sight of Ilion stands | |
| A rising mount, the work of human hands | |
| (This for Myrinne’s tomb th’ immortals know, | |
| Tho’ call’d Bateia in the world below); | 985 |
| Beneath their Chiefs in martial order here | |
| Th’ auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear. | |
| The godlike Hector, high above the rest, | |
| Shakes his huge spear, and nods his plumy crest: | |
| In throngs around his native bands appear, | 990 |
| And groves of lances glitter in the air. | |
| Divine Æneas brings the Dardan race, | |
| Anchises’ son, by Venus’ stol’n embrace, | |
| Born in the shades of Ida’s secret grove | |
| (A mortal mixing with the Queen of Love); | 995 |
| Archilochus and Acamas divide | |
| The warrior’s toils, and combat by his side. | |
| Who fair Zeleia’s wealthy valleys till, | |
| Fast by the foot of Ida’s sacred hill; | |
| Or drink, Æsepus, of thy sable flood; | 1000 |
| Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood. | |
| To whom his art Apollo deign’d to shew, | |
| Graced with the present of his shafts and bow. | |
| From rich Apæsus and Adrestia’s towers, | |
| High Teree’s summits, and Pityea’s bowers; | 1005 |
| From these the congregated troops obey | |
| Young Amphius and Adrastus’ equal sway; | |
| Old Merops’ sons; whom, skill’d in fates to come, | |
| The sire forewarn’d, and prophesied their doom: | |
| Fate urged them on! the sire forewarn’d in vain, | 1010 |
| They rush’d to war, and perish’d on the plain. | |
| From Practius’ stream, Percotè’s pasture lands, | |
| And Sestos and Abydos’ neighb’ring strands, | |
| From great Arisba’s walls and Sellè’s coast, | |
| Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host: | 1015 |
| High on his car he shakes the flowing reins, | |
| His fiery coursers thunder o’er the plains. | |
| The fierce Pelasgi next, in war renown’d, | |
| March from Larissa’s ever-fertile ground: | |
| In equal arms their brother leaders shine, | 1020 |
| Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine. | |
| Next Acamas and Pyroüs lead their hosts | |
| In dread array, from Thracia’s wintry coasts; | |
| Round the black realms where Hellespontus roars, | |
| And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding shores. | 1025 |
| With great Euphemus the Ciconians move, | |
| Sprung from Trœzenian Ceüs, lov’d by Jove. | |
| Pyræchmes the Pæonian troops attend, | |
| Skill’d in the fight their crooked bows to bend; | |
| From Axius’ ample bed he leads them on, | 1030 |
| Axius, that laves the distant Amydon, | |
| Axius, that swells with all his neighb’ring rills, | |
| And wide around the floating region fills. | |
| The Paphlagonians Pylæmenes rules, | |
| Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules, | 1035 |
| Where Erythinus’ rising cliffs are seen, | |
| Thy groves of box, Cytorus! ever green; | |
| And where Ægialus and Cromna lie, | |
| And lofty Sesamus invades the sky; | |
| And where Parthenius roll’d thro’ banks of flowers, | 1040 |
| Reflects her bord’ring palaces and bowers. | |
| Here march’d in arms the Halizonian band, | |
| Whom Odius and Epistrophus command, | |
| From those far regions where the sun refines | |
| The ripening silver in Alybean mines. | 1045 |
| There, mighty Chromis led the Mysian train, | |
| And augur Ennomus, inspired in vain, | |
| For stern Achilles lopp’d his sacred head, | |
| Roll’d down Scamander with the vulgar dead. | |
| Phoreys and brave Ascanius here unite | 1050 |
| Th’ Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the fight. | |
| Of those who round Mæonia’s realms reside, | |
| Or whom the vales in shade of Tmolus hide, | |
| Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake; | |
| Born on the banks of Gyges’ silent lake. | 1055 |
| There, from the fields where wild Mæander flows, | |
| High Mycalè, and Latmos’ shady brows, | |
| And proud Miletus, came the Carian throngs, | |
| With mingled clamours, and with barb’rous tongues: | |
| Amphimachus and Naustes guide the train, | 1060 |
| Naustes the bold, Amphimachus the vain, | |
| Who, trick’d with gold, and glitt’ring 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: | 1065 |
| 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 | 1070 |
| Where gulfy Xanthus foams along the fields. | |
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