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+Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the question of
+this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I must
+express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following
+remarks:—
+
+“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the
+better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its
+original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that
+its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to
+assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not
+the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive
+conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite anatomist may be
+no judge of the symmetry of the human frame: and we would take the
+opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty
+of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.
+
+“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines
+of Pope.—
+
+“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit
+Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit,
+How parts relate to parts, or they to whole,
+The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,
+Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
+When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”[19]
+
+
+Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning
+the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and
+cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo,[20]
+the authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern
+critics. Longinus, in an oft quoted passage, merely expressed an
+opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the
+Iliad,[21] and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names[22]
+it would be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal
+non-existence of Homer ever arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems
+to be in favour of our early ideas on the subject; let us now see what
+are the discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.
+
+At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on
+the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that “Homer wrote a sequel
+of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and
+good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs
+were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till about
+Peisistratus’ time, about five hundred years after.”[23]
+
+Two French writers—Hedelin and Perrault—avowed a similar scepticism on
+the subject; but it is in the “Scienza Nuova” of Battista Vico, that we
+first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf
+with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian
+theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold
+hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:—[24]
+
+“Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,
+turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently
+published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of
+the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by
+no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously
+announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent
+portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been cemented together into
+any compact body and unchangeable order, until the days of
+Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a step towards
+that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies of either poem
+could be shown to have existed during the earlier times, to which their
+composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the perfect
+symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived
+by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to
+posterity. The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be
+indispensably supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks,
+was thus one of the points in Wolf’s case against the primitive
+integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading
+opponents of Wolf, the connection of the one with the other seems to
+have been accepted as he originally put it; and it has been considered
+incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate character of the
+Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems from the
+beginning.
+
+“To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to
+Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are
+nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that
+view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in order to
+controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting long
+written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian æra. Few
+things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne Knight,
+opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less than
+Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh
+century before the Christian æra, are exceedingly trifling. We have no
+remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early
+inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure
+ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonidês of Amorgus, Kallinus,
+Tyrtæus, Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric poets,
+committed their compositions to writing, or at what time the practice
+of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground which authorizes
+us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in the famous
+ordinance of Solôn, with regard to the rhapsodies at the Panathenæa:
+but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we are
+unable to say.
+
+“Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
+beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the
+existing habits of society with regard to poetry—for they admit
+generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and
+heard,—but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been
+manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems—the unassisted
+memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here
+we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the
+existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory,[25] is
+far less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age
+essentially non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable
+instruments and materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover,
+there is a strong positive reason for believing that the bard was under
+no necessity of refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for
+if such had been the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification
+for the profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the
+example of Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of
+Chios, in the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as
+the general tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The
+author of that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a
+blind man as attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been
+conscious that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant
+reference to the manuscript in his chest.”
+
+The loss of the digamma, that _crux_ of critics, that quicksand upon
+which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond
+a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a
+considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the
+Homeric poems could have suffered by this change, had written copies
+been preserved. If Chaucer’s poetry, for instance, had not been
+written, it could only have come down to us in a softened form, more
+like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough, quaint, noble
+original.
+
+“At what period,” continues Grote, “these poems, or indeed any other
+Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,
+though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of
+Solôn. If, in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any
+more determinate period, the question at once suggests itself, What
+were the purposes which, in that state of society, a manuscript at its
+first commencement must have been intended to answer? For whom was a
+written Iliad necessary? Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was
+not only planted in the memory, but also interwoven with the feelings,
+and conceived in conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of
+voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were required for
+emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never
+reproduce. Not for the general public—they were accustomed to receive
+it with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn
+and crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would
+be suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of
+readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had
+experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the
+written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of the
+impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the statement may
+seem in an age like the present, there is in all early societies, and
+there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading class existed.
+If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be
+formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic
+poems were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with
+the greatest probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the
+formation even of the narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle
+of the seventh century before the Christian æra (B.C. 660 to B.C.
+630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus, Archilochus, Simonidês of
+Amorgus, &c. I ground this supposition on the change then operated in
+the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and music—the elegiac
+and the iambic measures having been introduced as rivals to the
+primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been transferred
+from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a
+change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
+publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the
+nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at
+the old epical treasures of the people as well as a thirst for new
+poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it, may well be
+considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from their
+own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric
+rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and
+eulogized the Thebaïs as the production of Homer. There seems,
+therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this
+newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of the
+Homeric poems and other old epics,—the Thebaïs and the Cypria, as well
+as the Iliad and the Odyssey,—began to be compiled towards the middle
+of the seventh century (B.C. 1); and the opening of Egypt to Grecian
+commerce, which took place about the same period, would furnish
+increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to write upon.
+A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly increase, and
+the number of manuscripts along with it; so that before the time of
+Solôn, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though
+still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized
+authority, and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness
+of individual rhapsodes.”[26]
+
+But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of
+the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
+observations—
+
+“There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,
+throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid
+compilation, at least over the theory, that the Iliad was cast into its
+present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the Athenian
+ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright period of
+Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more than the
+fame, and the faint echo, if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and Simonidês were
+employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and Odyssey, so much
+must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize, that it is
+almost incredible, that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should
+not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies
+which no doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the
+Homeric age, however the irregular use of the digamma may have
+perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name of Helen is said to have
+caused as much disquiet and distress as the fair one herself among the
+heroes of her age, however Mr. Knight may have failed in reducing the
+Homeric language to its primitive form; however, finally, the Attic
+dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and distinguishing
+characteristics—still it is difficult to suppose that the language,
+particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,
+should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient
+and modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such
+a period to imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an
+imperfect poem in the character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott
+has done in his continuation of Sir Tristram.
+
+“If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
+compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total
+absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of
+observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times,
+the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of their
+ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early Greece
+embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate and
+insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
+ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,
+indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic
+fact, that in the great maritime expedition of western Greece against
+the rival and half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadæ, the chieftain
+of Thessaly, from his valour and the number of his forces, may have
+been the most important ally of the Peloponnesian sovereign; the
+preeminent value of the ancient poetry on the Trojan war may thus have
+forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield to their taste.
+The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no doubt, of
+far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid
+would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian
+synod of compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Olysseid.
+Could France have given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the
+hero of the Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are
+sometimes called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its
+direful consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic
+cycle, as to admit no rivalry,—it is still surprising, that throughout
+the whole poem the callida junctura should never betray the workmanship
+of an Athenian hand, and that the national spirit of a race, who have
+at a later period not inaptly been compared to our self admiring
+neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self denial to the
+almost total exclusion of their own ancestors—or, at least, to the
+questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled
+in the military tactics of his age.”[27]
+
+To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that
+Wolf’s objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey
+have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they
+have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the
+difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather
+augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is
+Lachmann’s[28] modification of his theory any better. He divides the
+first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and
+treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one
+regular poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus.
+This, as Grote observes, “explains the gaps and contradictions in the
+narrative, but it explains nothing else.” Moreover, we find no
+contradictions warranting this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets
+concur in getting rid of the following leading men in the first battle
+after the secession of Achilles: Elphenor, chief of the Eubœans;
+Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odius, of the
+Halizonians; Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes
+again make their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure,
+that “it seems strange that any number of independent poets should have
+so harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel.”
+The discrepancy, by which Pylæmenes, who is represented as dead in the
+fifth book, weeps at his son’s funeral in the thirteenth, can only be
+regarded as the result of an interpolation.
+
+Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the
+subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian
+theory, and of Lachmann’s modifications with the character of
+Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,
+that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these poems,
+or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by
+Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In
+short, “a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of
+pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as the
+period of its first compilation.” The friends or literary _employês_ of
+Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already ancient, and the
+silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic
+“recension,” goes far to prove, that, among the numerous manuscripts
+they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of
+attention.
+
+“Moreover,” he continues, “the whole tenor of the poems themselves
+confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad
+or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age
+of Peisistratus—nothing which brings to our view the alterations
+brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined
+money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and republican
+governments, the close military array, the improved construction of
+ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual frequentation of
+religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins of religion, &c.,
+familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations Onomakritus, and the
+other literary friends of Peisistratus, could hardly have failed to
+notice, even without design, had they then, for the first time,
+undertaken the task of piecing together many self existent epics into
+one large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in
+substance and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries
+earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those
+passages which, on the best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray
+no trace of the sixth century before Christ, and may well have been
+heard by Archilochus and Kallinus—in some cases even by Arktinus and
+Hesiod—as genuine Homeric matter.[29] As far as the evidences on the
+case, as well internal as external, enable us to judge, we seem
+warranted in believing that the Iliad and Odyssey were recited
+substantially as they now stand (always allowing for partial
+divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first
+trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it be
+added, as it is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most
+important attribute of the Homeric poems, considered in reference to
+Grecian history; for they thus afford us an insight into the
+anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling us to trace the
+subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize instructive
+contrasts between their former and their later condition.”[30]
+
+On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of
+Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although, I must
+confess, that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his
+labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition
+or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the
+work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and
+elegant mind of that Athenian[31] would lead him to preserve an ancient
+and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and
+re-construct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat
+the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written or not,
+or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their reputed
+author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less satisfied we
+are upon either subject.
+
+I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
+preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version
+of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical
+probability must be measured by that of many others relating to the
+Spartan Confucius.
+
+I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories, with an attempt,
+made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like
+consistency. It is as follows:—
+
+“No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors
+of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to ‘discourse in excellent
+music’ among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the
+United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing
+around them. But what was passing around them? The grand events of a
+spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the
+mystical legends of former times had done, upon their memory; besides
+which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue of the first water, and
+was cultivated accordingly in those ancient times. Ballads at first,
+and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were merely
+recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,
+probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the
+memory considerably.
+
+“It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a
+poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Mœonides, but most
+probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great
+utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of
+Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays, connecting them
+by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the
+‘Odyssea.’ The author, however, did not affix his own name to the poem,
+which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the archaic
+dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by him. He
+therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is
+rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging
+arrangement of other people’s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,
+arguing for the unity of authorship, ‘a great poet might have re-cast
+pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere
+arrangers or compilers would be competent to do so.’
+
+“While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
+recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized
+the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleïs[32] grew under
+his hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the poem
+under the same pseudonyme as his former work: and the disjointed lays
+of the ancient bards were joined together, like those relating to the
+Cid, into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes knew that
+the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has proved; but,
+first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes and
+corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,
+assemblies, and agoras. However, Solôn first, and then Peisistratus,
+and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored
+the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great
+measure.”[33]
+
+Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which
+have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I
+must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of
+the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations
+disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may here
+and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the negligence of
+the copyist, would be an absurd and captious assumption, but it is to a
+higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would either understand or
+enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and personality of
+their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, _quocunque nomine vocari
+eum jus fasque sit_, I feel conscious that, while the whole weight of
+historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign these
+great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal
+evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate
+impulse of the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
+
+The minutiæ of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.
+Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an
+attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its
+importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store on
+its æsthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the
+emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had
+they been suggested to the author by his Mæcenas or Africanus, he
+would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in
+laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often
+least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not
+poets by profession, but may be so _per accidens_. I do not at this
+moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially
+improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from
+Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand minute
+points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and jejune.
+
+But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will
+exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an
+heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously
+dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the
+pruning knife by wholesale, and inconsistent in everything but their
+wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation, they cut out book
+after book, passage after passage, till the author is reduced to a
+collection of fragments, or till those, who fancied they possessed the
+works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a vile
+counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of
+Knight, Wolf, Lachmann, and others, we shall feel better satisfied of
+the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of
+Homer. One rejects what another considers the turning-point of his
+theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging what another would
+explain by omitting something else.
+
+Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon
+as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill,
+seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies
+attributed to Seneca are by _four_ different authors.[34] Now, I will
+venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in
+their borrowed phraseology—a phraseology with which writers like
+Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves—in their
+freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an ultra-refined
+and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few writers of the
+present day would question the capabilities of the same gentleman, be
+he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many more
+equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world
+with the startling announcement that the Æneid of Virgil, and the
+satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to
+say one word of disrespect against the industry and learning—nay, the
+refined acuteness—which scholars, like Wolf, have bestowed upon this
+subject, I must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric
+theories will become matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather
+than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can I help thinking, that the
+literary history of more recent times will account for many points of
+difficulty in the transmission of the Iliad and Odyssey to a period so
+remote from that of their first creation.
+
+I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus
+were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason
+why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in
+his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should
+have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after
+all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that they demand
+too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry most powerfully
+appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The ingenuity which has
+sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does too much
+violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with
+love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author
+of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human
+invention; to elevate analytical judgment at the expense of the most
+ennobling impulses of the soul; and to forget the ocean in the
+contemplation of a polypus. There is a catholicity, so to speak, in the
+very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of the Iliad may be a
+mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.
+
+While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature
+herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in
+believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers
+round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from that wealth
+of imagination which a host of imitators could not exhaust,—still I am
+far from wishing to deny that the author of these great poems found a
+rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked mythical storehouse from whence
+he might derive both subject and embellishment. But it is one thing to
+_use_ existing romances in the embellishment of a poem, another to
+patch up the poem itself from such materials. What consistency of style
+and execution can be hoped for from such an attempt? or, rather, what
+bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible result?
+
+A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other
+bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In
+fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward
+impressions—nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents
+which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless there be
+some grand pervading principle—some invisible, yet most distinctly
+stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the Iliad can never
+come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque, episodes the most
+pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of gods and
+great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in more
+substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to
+create a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and
+embellishments, be present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a
+parterre filled with flowers and weeds strangling each other in their
+wild redundancy: we shall have a cento of rags and tatters, which will
+require little acuteness to detect.
+
+Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware
+as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief,
+it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved
+for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are not by nature
+intended to know all things; still less, to compass the powers by which
+the greatest blessings of life have been placed at our disposal. Were
+faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why God willed our
+ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the contrary
+lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried
+touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon
+the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached
+to the memory of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse
+the scepticism which would allegorize their existence into a pleasing
+apologue, and measure the giants of intellect by an homeopathic
+dynameter.
+
+Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts
+even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and
+with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply
+wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the minute spots
+which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic poem we must
+transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we in imagination
+must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves, burn with the
+same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can but
+attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely
+suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of
+Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer
+that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of song.
+
+And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems
+their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who
+is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely
+observes:—
+
+“It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has
+ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen.
+Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other
+nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is
+a feature in their character which was not wholly erased even in the
+period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and sages appeared in
+Greece, the work of the poet had already been accomplished; and they
+paid homage to his superior genius. He held up before his nation the
+mirror, in which they were to behold the world of gods and heroes no
+less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with purity
+and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;
+on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which
+outweighs all others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth
+from a breast which sympathized with all the feelings of man; and
+therefore they enter, and will continue to enter, every breast which
+cherishes the same sympathies. If it is granted to his immortal spirit,
+from another heaven than any of which he dreamed on earth, to look down
+on his race, to see the nations from the fields of Asia to the forests
+of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic
+wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast
+assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had
+been called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal
+spirit may reside, this alone would suffice to complete his
+happiness.”[35]
+
+Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the “Apotheosis of
+Homer”[36] is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing
+association, how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to
+our minds, is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old
+tradition? The more we read, and the more we think—think as becomes the
+readers of Homer,—the more rooted becomes the conviction that the
+Father of Poetry gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire.
+Whatever were the means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful
+for the treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than
+seek to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of
+theories, whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with
+each other.
+
+As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not
+included in Pope’s translation, I will content myself with a brief
+account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer
+who has done it full justice[37]:—
+
+“This poem,” says Coleridge, “is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.
+The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and
+corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile
+essay of Homer’s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees,
+mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited
+the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was
+uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies,
+know or care about that department of criticism employed in determining
+the genuineness of ancient writings. As to this little poem being a
+youthful profusion of Homer, it seems sufficient to say that from the
+beginning to the end it is a plain and palpable parody, not only of the
+general spirit, but of the numerous passages of the Iliad itself; and
+even, if no such intention to parody were discernible in it, the
+objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque
+to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse
+that order in the development of national taste, which the history of
+every other people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost
+ascertained to be a law of the human mind; it is in a state of society
+much more refined and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that
+any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is
+contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed three
+other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as
+much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of
+them were of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word
+deltos, “writing tablet,” instead of διφθέρα, “skin,” which, according
+to Herod. 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for
+that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity;
+and generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a
+strong argument against so ancient a date for its composition.”
+
+Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope’s
+design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,
+and on my own purpose in the present edition.
+
+Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his
+earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby.
+It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a
+disposition to be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive
+deeply into the minute and delicate features of language. Hence his
+whole work is to be looked upon rather as an elegant paraphrase than a
+translation. There are, to be sure, certain conventional anecdotes,
+which prove that Pope consulted various friends, whose classical
+attainments were sounder than his own, during the undertaking; but it
+is probable that these examinations were the result rather of the
+contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a
+perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called
+literal translation was less cultivated than at present. If something
+like the general sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of
+a practised poet; if the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing
+fluency could be made consistent with a fair interpretation of the
+poet’s meaning, his _words_ were less jealously sought for, and those
+who could read so good a poem as Pope’s Iliad had fair reason to be
+satisfied.
+
+It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope’s translation by our own
+advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at
+it as a most delightful work in itself,—a work which is as much a part
+of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn
+from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most
+cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize, merely because
+Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more accurate as to
+ἀμφικύπελλον being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from
+us to defend the faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman’s
+fine, bold, rough old English;—far be it from us to hold up his
+translation as what a translation of Homer _might_ be. But we can still
+dismiss Pope’s Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the
+consciousness that they must have read a very great number of books
+before they have read its fellow.
+
+As to the Notes accompanying the present volume, they are drawn up
+without pretension, and mainly with the view of helping the general
+reader. Having some little time since translated all the works of Homer
+for another publisher, I might have brought a large amount of
+accumulated matter, sometimes of a critical character, to bear upon the
+text. But Pope’s version was no field for such a display; and my
+purpose was to touch briefly on antiquarian or mythological allusions,
+to notice occasionally _some_ departures from the original, and to give
+a few parallel passages from our English Homer, Milton. In the latter
+task I cannot pretend to novelty, but I trust that my other
+annotations, while utterly disclaiming high scholastic views, will be
+found to convey as much as is wanted; at least, as far as the necessary
+limits of these volumes could be expected to admit. To write a
+commentary on Homer is not my present aim; but if I have made Pope’s
+translation a little more entertaining and instructive to a mass of
+miscellaneous readers, I shall consider my wishes satisfactorily
+accomplished.
+
+THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
+
+
+_Christ Church_.
+
+
+
+
+POPE’S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD OF HOMER
+
+
+Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest invention of any
+writer whatever. The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested
+with him, and others may have their pretensions as to particular
+excellences; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a
+wonder if he has ever been acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most
+excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetry. It is the
+invention that, in different degrees, distinguishes all great geniuses:
+the utmost stretch of human study, learning, and industry, which
+masters everything besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes art
+with all her materials, and without it judgment itself can at best but
+“steal wisely:” for art is only like a prudent steward that lives on
+managing the riches of nature. Whatever praises may be given to works
+of judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them to which the
+invention must not contribute: as in the most regular gardens, art can
+only reduce beauties of nature to more regularity, and such a figure,
+which the common eye may better take in, and is, therefore, more
+entertained with. And, perhaps, the reason why common critics are
+inclined to prefer a judicious and methodical genius to a great and
+fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue
+their observations through a uniform and bounded walk of art, than to
+comprehend the vast and various extent of nature.
+
+Our author’s work is a wild paradise, where, if we cannot see all the
+beauties so distinctly as in an ordered garden, it is only because the
+number of them is infinitely greater. It is like a copious nursery,
+which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of
+which those who followed him have but selected some particular plants,
+each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things
+are too luxuriant it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if
+others are not arrived to perfection or maturity, it is only because
+they are overrun and oppressed by those of a stronger nature.
+
+It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute
+that unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no
+man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him.
+What he writes is of the most animated nature imaginable; every thing
+moves, every thing lives, and is put in action. If a council be called,
+or a battle fought, you are not coldly informed of what was said or
+done as from a third person; the reader is hurried out of himself by
+the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a
+hearer, in another to a spectator. The course of his verses resembles
+that of the army he describes,
+
+    Οἵδ’ ἄῤ ἴσαν, ὡσεί τε πυρὶ χθὼν πἆσα νέμοιτο.
+
+“They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it.” It
+is, however, remarkable, that his fancy, which is everywhere vigorous,
+is not discovered immediately at the beginning of his poem in its
+fullest splendour: it grows in the progress both upon himself and
+others, and becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity.
+Exact disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers,
+may have been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this “vivida
+vis animi,” in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect
+or neglected, this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even
+while we disapprove. Nay, where this appears, though attended with
+absurdities, it brightens all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing
+but its own splendour. This fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned
+as through a glass, reflected from Homer, more shining than fierce, but
+everywhere equal and constant: in Lucan and Statius it bursts out in
+sudden, short, and interrupted flashes: In Milton it glows like a
+furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour by the force of art: in
+Shakspeare it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental fire from
+heaven: but in Homer, and in him only, it burns everywhere clearly and
+everywhere irresistibly.
+
+I shall here endeavour to show how this vast invention exerts itself in
+a manner superior to that of any poet through all the main constituent
+parts of his work: as it is the great and peculiar characteristic which
+distinguishes him from all other authors.
+
+This strong and ruling faculty was like a powerful star, which, in the
+violence of its course, drew all things within its vortex. It seemed
+not enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole
+compass of nature, to supply his maxims and reflections; all the inward
+passions and affections of mankind, to furnish his characters: and all
+the outward forms and images of things for his descriptions: but
+wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and
+boundless walk for his imagination, and created a world for himself in
+the invention of fable. That which Aristotle calls “the soul of
+poetry,” was first breathed into it by Homer. I shall begin with
+considering him in his part, as it is naturally the first; and I speak
+of it both as it means the design of a poem, and as it is taken for
+fiction.
+
+
+Fable may be divided into the probable, the allegorical, and the
+marvellous. The probable fable is the recital of such actions as,
+though they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of nature;
+or of such as, though they did, became fables by the additional
+episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main story of
+an epic poem, “The return of Ulysses, the settlement of the Trojans in
+Italy,” or the like. That of the Iliad is the “anger of Achilles,” the
+most short and single subject that ever was chosen by any poet. Yet
+this he has supplied with a vaster variety of incidents and events, and
+crowded with a greater number of councils, speeches, battles, and
+episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those poems whose
+schemes are of the utmost latitude and irregularity. The action is
+hurried on with the most vehement spirit, and its whole duration
+employs not so much as fifty days. Virgil, for want of so warm a
+genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive subject, as well as
+a greater length of time, and contracting the design of both Homer’s
+poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The
+other epic poets have used the same practice, but generally carried it
+so far as to superinduce a multiplicity of fables, destroy the unity of
+action, and lose their readers in an unreasonable length of time. Nor
+is it only in the main design that they have been unable to add to his
+invention, but they have followed him in every episode and part of
+story. If he has given a regular catalogue of an army, they all draw up
+their forces in the same order. If he has funeral games for Patroclus,
+Virgil has the same for Anchises, and Statius (rather than omit them)
+destroys the unity of his actions for those of Archemorus. If Ulysses
+visit the shades, the Æneas of Virgil and Scipio of Silius are sent
+after him. If he be detained from his return by the allurements of
+Calypso, so is Æneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Armida. If Achilles be
+absent from the army on the score of a quarrel through half the poem,
+Rinaldo must absent himself just as long on the like account. If he
+gives his hero a suit of celestial armour, Virgil and Tasso make the
+same present to theirs. Virgil has not only observed this close
+imitation of Homer, but, where he had not led the way, supplied the
+want from other Greek authors. Thus the story of Sinon, and the taking
+of Troy, was copied (says Macrobius) almost word for word from
+Pisander, as the loves of Dido and Æneas are taken from those of Medea
+and Jason in Apollonius, and several others in the same manner.
+
+
+To proceed to the allegorical fable—If we reflect upon those
+innumerable knowledges, those secrets of nature and physical philosophy
+which Homer is generally supposed to have wrapped up in his allegories,
+what a new and ample scene of wonder may this consideration afford us!
+How fertile will that imagination appear, which was able to clothe all
+the properties of elements, the qualifications of the mind, the virtues
+and vices, in forms and persons, and to introduce them into actions
+agreeable to the nature of the things they shadowed! This is a field in
+which no succeeding poets could dispute with Homer, and whatever
+commendations have been allowed them on this head, are by no means for
+their invention in having enlarged his circle, but for their judgment
+in having contracted it. For when the mode of learning changed in the
+following ages, and science was delivered in a plainer manner, it then
+became as reasonable in the more modern poets to lay it aside, as it
+was in Homer to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy
+circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his time that demand
+upon him of so great an invention as might be capable of furnishing all
+those allegorical parts of a poem.
+
+
+The marvellous fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially
+the machines of the gods. If Homer was not the first who introduced the
+deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the religion of Greece, he seems
+the first who brought them into a system of machinery for poetry, and
+such a one as makes its greatest importance and dignity: for we find
+those authors who have been offended at the literal notion of the gods,
+constantly laying their accusation against Homer as the chief support
+of it. But whatever cause there might be to blame his machines in a
+philosophical or religious view, they are so perfect in the poetic,
+that mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: none have
+been able to enlarge the sphere of poetry beyond the limits he has set:
+every attempt of this nature has proved unsuccessful; and after all the
+various changes of times and religions, his gods continue to this day
+the gods of poetry.
+
+
+We come now to the characters of his persons; and here we shall find no
+author has ever drawn so many, with so visible and surprising a
+variety, or given us such lively and affecting impressions of them.
+Every one has something so singularly his own, that no painter could
+have distinguished them more by their features, than the poet has by
+their manners. Nothing can be more exact than the distinctions he has
+observed in the different degrees of virtues and vices. The single
+quality of courage is wonderfully diversified in the several characters
+of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and intractable; that of
+Diomede forward, yet listening to advice, and subject to command; that
+of Ajax is heavy and self-confiding; of Hector, active and vigilant:
+the courage of Agamemnon is inspirited by love of empire and ambition;
+that of Menelaus mixed with softness and tenderness for his people: we
+find in Idomeneus a plain direct soldier; in Sarpedon a gallant and
+generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing diversity to be
+found only in the principal quality which constitutes the main of each
+character, but even in the under parts of it, to which he takes care to
+give a tincture of that principal one. For example: the main characters
+of Ulysses and Nestor consist in wisdom; and they are distinct in this,
+that the wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural,
+open, and regular. But they have, besides, characters of courage; and
+this quality also takes a different turn in each from the difference of
+his prudence; for one in the war depends still upon caution, the other
+upon experience. It would be endless to produce instances of these
+kinds. The characters of Virgil are far from striking us in this open
+manner; they lie, in a great degree, hidden and undistinguished; and,
+where they are marked most evidently affect us not in proportion to
+those of Homer. His characters of valour are much alike; even that of
+Turnus seems no way peculiar, but, as it is, in a superior degree; and
+we see nothing that differences the courage of Mnestheus from that of
+Sergestus, Cloanthus, or the rest. In like manner it may be remarked of
+Statius’s heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs through them all; the
+same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus,
+Hippomedon, &c. They have a parity of character, which makes them seem
+brothers of one family. I believe when the reader is led into this
+tract of reflection, if he will pursue it through the epic and tragic
+writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior, in this point,
+the invention of Homer was to that of all others.
+
+
+The speeches are to be considered as they flow from the characters;
+being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the manners,
+of those who utter them. As there is more variety of characters in the
+Iliad, so there is of speeches, than in any other poem. “Everything in
+it has manner” (as Aristotle expresses it), that is, everything is
+acted or spoken. It is hardly credible, in a work of such length, how
+small a number of lines are employed in narration. In Virgil the
+dramatic part is less in proportion to the narrative, and the speeches
+often consist of general reflections or thoughts, which might be
+equally just in any person’s mouth upon the same occasion. As many of
+his persons have no apparent characters, so many of his speeches escape
+being applied and judged by the rule of propriety. We oftener think of
+the author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are engaged in
+Homer, all which are the effects of a colder invention, that interests
+us less in the action described. Homer makes us hearers, and Virgil
+leaves us readers.
+
+
+If, in the next place, we take a view of the sentiments, the same
+presiding faculty is eminent in the sublimity and spirit of his
+thoughts. Longinus has given his opinion, that it was in this part
+Homer principally excelled. What were alone sufficient to prove the
+grandeur and excellence of his sentiments in general, is, that they
+have so remarkable a parity with those of the Scripture. Duport, in his
+Gnomologia Homerica, has collected innumerable instances of this sort.
+And it is with justice an excellent modern writer allows, that if
+Virgil has not so many thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so
+many that are sublime and noble; and that the Roman author seldom rises
+into very astonishing sentiments where he is not fired by the Iliad.
+
+
+If we observe his descriptions, images, and similes, we shall find the
+invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast
+comprehension of images of every sort, where we see each circumstance
+of art, and individual of nature, summoned together by the extent and
+fecundity of his imagination to which all things, in their various
+views presented themselves in an instant, and had their impressions
+taken off to perfection at a heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full
+prospects of things, but several unexpected peculiarities and side
+views, unobserved by any painter but Homer. Nothing is so surprising as
+the descriptions of his battles, which take up no less than half the
+Iliad, and are supplied with so vast a variety of incidents, that no
+one bears a likeness to another; such different kinds of deaths, that
+no two heroes are wounded in the same manner, and such a profusion of
+noble ideas, that every battle rises above the last in greatness,
+horror, and confusion. It is certain there is not near that number of
+images and descriptions in any epic poet, though every one has assisted
+himself with a great quantity out of him; and it is evident of Virgil
+especially, that he has scarce any comparisons which are not drawn from
+his master.
+
+
+If we descend from hence to the expression, we see the bright
+imagination of Homer shining out in the most enlivened forms of it. We
+acknowledge him the father of poetical diction; the first who taught
+that “language of the gods” to men. His expression is like the
+colouring of some great masters, which discovers itself to be laid on
+boldly, and executed with rapidity. It is, indeed, the strongest and
+most glowing imaginable, and touched with the greatest spirit.
+Aristotle had reason to say, he was the only poet who had found out
+“living words;” there are in him more daring figures and metaphors than
+in any good author whatever. An arrow is “impatient” to be on the wing,
+a weapon “thirsts” to drink the blood of an enemy, and the like, yet
+his expression is never too big for the sense, but justly great in
+proportion to it. It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the
+diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it, for in the
+same degree that a thought is warmer, an expression will be brighter,
+as that is more strong, this will become more perspicuous; like glass
+in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, and refines to a
+greater clearness, only as the breath within is more powerful, and the
+heat more intense.
+
+
+To throw his language more out of prose, Homer seems to have affected
+the compound epithets. This was a sort of composition peculiarly proper
+to poetry, not only as it heightened the diction, but as it assisted
+and filled the numbers with greater sound and pomp, and likewise
+conduced in some measure to thicken the images. On this last
+consideration I cannot but attribute these also to the fruitfulness of
+his invention, since (as he has managed them) they are a sort of
+supernumerary pictures of the persons or things to which they were
+joined. We see the motion of Hector’s plumes in the epithet
+Κορυθαίολος, the landscape of Mount Neritus in that of Εἰνοσίφυλλος,
+and so of others, which particular images could not have been insisted
+upon so long as to express them in a description (though but of a
+single line) without diverting the reader too much from the principal
+action or figure. As a metaphor is a short simile, one of these
+epithets is a short description.
+
+
+Lastly, if we consider his versification, we shall be sensible what a
+share of praise is due to his invention in that also. He was not
+satisfied with his language as he found it settled in any one part of
+Greece, but searched through its different dialects with this
+particular view, to beautify and perfect his numbers he considered
+these as they had a greater mixture of vowels or consonants, and
+accordingly employed them as the verse required either a greater
+smoothness or strength. What he most affected was the Ionic, which has
+a peculiar sweetness, from its never using contractions, and from its
+custom of resolving the diphthongs into two syllables, so as to make
+the words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous fluency.
+With this he mingled the Attic contractions, the broader Doric, and the
+feebler Æolic, which often rejects its aspirate, or takes off its
+accent, and completed this variety by altering some letters with the
+licence of poetry. Thus his measures, instead of being fetters to his
+sense, were always in readiness to run along with the warmth of his
+rapture, and even to give a further representation of his notions, in
+the correspondence of their sounds to what they signified. Out of all
+these he has derived that harmony which makes us confess he had not
+only the richest head, but the finest ear in the world. This is so
+great a truth, that whoever will but consult the tune of his verses,
+even without understanding them (with the same sort of diligence as we
+daily see practised in the case of Italian operas), will find more
+sweetness, variety, and majesty of sound, than in any other language of
+poetry.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_0.txt b/PI_0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98cf3b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the question of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_1.txt b/PI_1.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..87699fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_1.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I must
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_10.txt b/PI_10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5f9685
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_100.txt b/PI_100.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ec1c94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_100.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+existing habits of society with regard to poetry—for they admit
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_1000.txt b/PI_1000.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c1a6f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_1000.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+daily see practised in the case of Italian operas), will find more
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_1001.txt b/PI_1001.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53288da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_1001.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+sweetness, variety, and majesty of sound, than in any other language of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_1002.txt b/PI_1002.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..609960a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_1002.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poetry.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_101.txt b/PI_101.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b05a1a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_101.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_102.txt b/PI_102.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98dcf01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_102.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heard,—but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_103.txt b/PI_103.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cae2e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_103.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems—the unassisted
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_104.txt b/PI_104.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59bbcee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_104.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_105.txt b/PI_105.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7817d64
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_105.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_106.txt b/PI_106.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ac764a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_106.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory,[25] is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_107.txt b/PI_107.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..679e056
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_107.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+far less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_108.txt b/PI_108.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e2df00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_108.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+essentially non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_109.txt b/PI_109.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60e93cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_109.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+instruments and materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_11.txt b/PI_11.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3ed67d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_11.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite anatomist may be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_110.txt b/PI_110.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fca54b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_110.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+there is a strong positive reason for believing that the bard was under
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_111.txt b/PI_111.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ccb224
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_111.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+no necessity of refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_112.txt b/PI_112.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41651f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_112.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+if such had been the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_113.txt b/PI_113.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5de579
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_113.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+for the profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_114.txt b/PI_114.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a0dd03c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_114.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+example of Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_115.txt b/PI_115.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1001919
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_115.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Chios, in the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_116.txt b/PI_116.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..885a581
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_116.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the general tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_117.txt b/PI_117.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67571e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_117.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+author of that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_118.txt b/PI_118.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..809725f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_118.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+blind man as attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_119.txt b/PI_119.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fe1a1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_119.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+conscious that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_12.txt b/PI_12.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc21d37
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_12.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+no judge of the symmetry of the human frame: and we would take the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_120.txt b/PI_120.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f15071
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_120.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+reference to the manuscript in his chest.”
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_121.txt b/PI_121.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_122.txt b/PI_122.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2219337
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_122.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The loss of the digamma, that _crux_ of critics, that quicksand upon
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_123.txt b/PI_123.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3406f6c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_123.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_124.txt b/PI_124.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..56aab38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_124.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_125.txt b/PI_125.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea10dfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_125.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_126.txt b/PI_126.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..baf7b11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_126.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homeric poems could have suffered by this change, had written copies
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_127.txt b/PI_127.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28b1b74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_127.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+been preserved. If Chaucer’s poetry, for instance, had not been
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_128.txt b/PI_128.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69b7489
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_128.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+written, it could only have come down to us in a softened form, more
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_129.txt b/PI_129.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70bac70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_129.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough, quaint, noble
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_13.txt b/PI_13.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f21b25a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_13.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_130.txt b/PI_130.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..57c8ac0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_130.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+original.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_131.txt b/PI_131.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_132.txt b/PI_132.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a756db4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_132.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“At what period,” continues Grote, “these poems, or indeed any other
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_133.txt b/PI_133.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6a600a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_133.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_134.txt b/PI_134.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f32ba4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_134.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_135.txt b/PI_135.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b79577a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_135.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Solôn. If, in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_136.txt b/PI_136.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a562076
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_136.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+more determinate period, the question at once suggests itself, What
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_137.txt b/PI_137.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f106c77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_137.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+were the purposes which, in that state of society, a manuscript at its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_138.txt b/PI_138.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe675ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_138.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+first commencement must have been intended to answer? For whom was a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_139.txt b/PI_139.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b72fd3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_139.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+written Iliad necessary? Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_14.txt b/PI_14.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c163ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_14.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_140.txt b/PI_140.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0020743
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_140.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+not only planted in the memory, but also interwoven with the feelings,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_141.txt b/PI_141.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ea8d63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_141.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and conceived in conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_142.txt b/PI_142.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c623ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_142.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were required for
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_143.txt b/PI_143.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b7a519
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_143.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_144.txt b/PI_144.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80d078e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_144.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+reproduce. Not for the general public—they were accustomed to receive
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_145.txt b/PI_145.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eacf86d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_145.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+it with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_146.txt b/PI_146.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d629c79
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_146.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_147.txt b/PI_147.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..375efba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_147.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+be suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_148.txt b/PI_148.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4a4204
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_148.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_149.txt b/PI_149.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb110b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_149.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_15.txt b/PI_15.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_150.txt b/PI_150.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86f2d89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_150.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_151.txt b/PI_151.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6622ea6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_151.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the statement may
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_152.txt b/PI_152.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a02ac81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_152.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+seem in an age like the present, there is in all early societies, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_153.txt b/PI_153.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc9a104
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_153.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading class existed.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_154.txt b/PI_154.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74f2bc3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_154.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_155.txt b/PI_155.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d664b02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_155.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_156.txt b/PI_156.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd34847
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_156.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poems were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_157.txt b/PI_157.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fcc4cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_157.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the greatest probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_158.txt b/PI_158.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af5b591
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_158.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+formation even of the narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_159.txt b/PI_159.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..730d998
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_159.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the seventh century before the Christian æra (B.C. 660 to B.C.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_16.txt b/PI_16.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbff32b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_16.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_160.txt b/PI_160.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd0206c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_160.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus, Archilochus, Simonidês of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_161.txt b/PI_161.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab4783d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_161.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Amorgus, &c. I ground this supposition on the change then operated in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_162.txt b/PI_162.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2849002
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_162.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and music—the elegiac
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_163.txt b/PI_163.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52ac4fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_163.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and the iambic measures having been introduced as rivals to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_164.txt b/PI_164.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efddf81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_164.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been transferred
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_165.txt b/PI_165.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..29afe6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_165.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_166.txt b/PI_166.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b43f42
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_166.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_167.txt b/PI_167.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d0e1f08
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_167.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_168.txt b/PI_168.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b8747f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_168.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_169.txt b/PI_169.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5e0194
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_169.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the old epical treasures of the people as well as a thirst for new
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_17.txt b/PI_17.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2de1a58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_17.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Pope.—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_170.txt b/PI_170.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3afe017
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_170.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it, may well be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_171.txt b/PI_171.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccdd0ca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_171.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_172.txt b/PI_172.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dca4c1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_172.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_173.txt b/PI_173.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..77ea438
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_173.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_174.txt b/PI_174.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af6e95f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_174.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+eulogized the Thebaïs as the production of Homer. There seems,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_175.txt b/PI_175.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..709f581
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_175.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_176.txt b/PI_176.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7b20f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_176.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_177.txt b/PI_177.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6daf3a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_177.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homeric poems and other old epics,—the Thebaïs and the Cypria, as well
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_178.txt b/PI_178.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ffb161c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_178.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+as the Iliad and the Odyssey,—began to be compiled towards the middle
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_179.txt b/PI_179.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a31c74e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_179.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the seventh century (B.C. 1); and the opening of Egypt to Grecian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_18.txt b/PI_18.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_180.txt b/PI_180.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1703e04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_180.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+commerce, which took place about the same period, would furnish
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_181.txt b/PI_181.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..19b175c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_181.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to write upon.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_182.txt b/PI_182.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d523d9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_182.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly increase, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_183.txt b/PI_183.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31b9d88
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_183.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the number of manuscripts along with it; so that before the time of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_184.txt b/PI_184.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d6014eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_184.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Solôn, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_185.txt b/PI_185.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca35121
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_185.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_186.txt b/PI_186.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e28c1f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_186.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+authority, and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_187.txt b/PI_187.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e990876
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_187.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of individual rhapsodes.”[26]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_188.txt b/PI_188.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_189.txt b/PI_189.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1a4e7a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_189.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_19.txt b/PI_19.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2155439
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_19.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_190.txt b/PI_190.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1231f3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_190.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_191.txt b/PI_191.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c7967d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_191.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+observations—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_192.txt b/PI_192.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_193.txt b/PI_193.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31d3f17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_193.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_194.txt b/PI_194.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a811938
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_194.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_195.txt b/PI_195.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7e9cdb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_195.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+compilation, at least over the theory, that the Iliad was cast into its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_196.txt b/PI_196.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..beba945
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_196.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the Athenian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_197.txt b/PI_197.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0aad7b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_197.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright period of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_198.txt b/PI_198.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4317ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_198.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more than the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_199.txt b/PI_199.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c912d89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_199.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fame, and the faint echo, if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and Simonidês were
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_2.txt b/PI_2.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e192ef5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_2.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_20.txt b/PI_20.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79d5ca8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_20.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_200.txt b/PI_200.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e456bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_200.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and Odyssey, so much
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_201.txt b/PI_201.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d29a3e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_201.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize, that it is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_202.txt b/PI_202.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..404dd5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_202.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+almost incredible, that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_203.txt b/PI_203.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05d5b7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_203.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_204.txt b/PI_204.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1c02782
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_204.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which no doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_205.txt b/PI_205.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11aecb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_205.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homeric age, however the irregular use of the digamma may have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_206.txt b/PI_206.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df22df7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_206.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name of Helen is said to have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_207.txt b/PI_207.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8262ee3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_207.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+caused as much disquiet and distress as the fair one herself among the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_208.txt b/PI_208.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4ea052
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_208.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heroes of her age, however Mr. Knight may have failed in reducing the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_209.txt b/PI_209.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8623bbe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_209.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homeric language to its primitive form; however, finally, the Attic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_21.txt b/PI_21.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..509a58f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_21.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+How parts relate to parts, or they to whole,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_210.txt b/PI_210.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08f0a3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_210.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and distinguishing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_211.txt b/PI_211.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed3c1bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_211.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+characteristics—still it is difficult to suppose that the language,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_212.txt b/PI_212.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f49614a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_212.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_213.txt b/PI_213.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4ca98f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_213.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_214.txt b/PI_214.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5c41cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_214.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_215.txt b/PI_215.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..117592b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_215.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a period to imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_216.txt b/PI_216.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc7e003
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_216.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+imperfect poem in the character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_217.txt b/PI_217.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e1291e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_217.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+has done in his continuation of Sir Tristram.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_218.txt b/PI_218.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_219.txt b/PI_219.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..beaef56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_219.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_22.txt b/PI_22.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6dbcd08
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_22.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_220.txt b/PI_220.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2d37fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_220.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_221.txt b/PI_221.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d09bf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_221.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_222.txt b/PI_222.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fcd5cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_222.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_223.txt b/PI_223.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8317767
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_223.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_224.txt b/PI_224.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d6a7f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_224.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early Greece
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_225.txt b/PI_225.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c10eaf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_225.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_226.txt b/PI_226.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bacf4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_226.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_227.txt b/PI_227.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..772ca4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_227.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_228.txt b/PI_228.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d0a459b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_228.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_229.txt b/PI_229.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..deef63b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_229.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fact, that in the great maritime expedition of western Greece against
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_23.txt b/PI_23.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..09cda23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_23.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_230.txt b/PI_230.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abcb896
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_230.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the rival and half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadæ, the chieftain
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_231.txt b/PI_231.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0aefd14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_231.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Thessaly, from his valour and the number of his forces, may have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_232.txt b/PI_232.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08de490
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_232.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+been the most important ally of the Peloponnesian sovereign; the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_233.txt b/PI_233.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64f2a00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_233.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+preeminent value of the ancient poetry on the Trojan war may thus have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_234.txt b/PI_234.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2fe766
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_234.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield to their taste.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_235.txt b/PI_235.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b96150e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_235.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no doubt, of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_236.txt b/PI_236.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c5b85d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_236.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_237.txt b/PI_237.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a80c010
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_237.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_238.txt b/PI_238.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0ab6e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_238.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+synod of compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Olysseid.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_239.txt b/PI_239.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e77b961
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_239.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Could France have given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_24.txt b/PI_24.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..200cc75
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_24.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”[19]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_240.txt b/PI_240.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..995c54b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_240.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+hero of the Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_241.txt b/PI_241.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f78ac20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_241.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+sometimes called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_242.txt b/PI_242.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d58d077
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_242.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+direful consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_243.txt b/PI_243.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65f65ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_243.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+cycle, as to admit no rivalry,—it is still surprising, that throughout
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_244.txt b/PI_244.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5b395a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_244.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the whole poem the callida junctura should never betray the workmanship
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_245.txt b/PI_245.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7905bd0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_245.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of an Athenian hand, and that the national spirit of a race, who have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_246.txt b/PI_246.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31478a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_246.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+at a later period not inaptly been compared to our self admiring
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_247.txt b/PI_247.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee214f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_247.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self denial to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_248.txt b/PI_248.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53a1b41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_248.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+almost total exclusion of their own ancestors—or, at least, to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_249.txt b/PI_249.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6e6e6e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_249.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_25.txt b/PI_25.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_250.txt b/PI_250.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4cbf6aa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_250.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+in the military tactics of his age.”[27]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_251.txt b/PI_251.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_252.txt b/PI_252.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9286aeb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_252.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_253.txt b/PI_253.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9639f0e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_253.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Wolf’s objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_254.txt b/PI_254.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64bdcf9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_254.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_255.txt b/PI_255.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d83dfa9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_255.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_256.txt b/PI_256.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0647545
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_256.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_257.txt b/PI_257.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35cb562
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_257.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_258.txt b/PI_258.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbe6e96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_258.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Lachmann’s[28] modification of his theory any better. He divides the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_259.txt b/PI_259.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ddfccf6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_259.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_26.txt b/PI_26.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_260.txt b/PI_260.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b49aeaa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_260.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_261.txt b/PI_261.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3110067
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_261.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+regular poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_262.txt b/PI_262.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be48502
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_262.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+This, as Grote observes, “explains the gaps and contradictions in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_263.txt b/PI_263.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8f73c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_263.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+narrative, but it explains nothing else.” Moreover, we find no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_264.txt b/PI_264.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6ca985
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_264.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+contradictions warranting this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_265.txt b/PI_265.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..95a5e94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_265.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+concur in getting rid of the following leading men in the first battle
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_266.txt b/PI_266.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f5217e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_266.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+after the secession of Achilles: Elphenor, chief of the Eubœans;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_267.txt b/PI_267.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e6c9e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_267.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odius, of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_268.txt b/PI_268.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa39733
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_268.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Halizonians; Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_269.txt b/PI_269.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d574799
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_269.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+again make their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_27.txt b/PI_27.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..528eab4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_27.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_270.txt b/PI_270.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60091d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_270.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that “it seems strange that any number of independent poets should have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_271.txt b/PI_271.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5695afa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_271.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+so harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel.”
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_272.txt b/PI_272.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff71639
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_272.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The discrepancy, by which Pylæmenes, who is represented as dead in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_273.txt b/PI_273.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..248af7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_273.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fifth book, weeps at his son’s funeral in the thirteenth, can only be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_274.txt b/PI_274.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3c7e2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_274.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+regarded as the result of an interpolation.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_275.txt b/PI_275.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_276.txt b/PI_276.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a0e7b63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_276.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_277.txt b/PI_277.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d81fbe1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_277.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_278.txt b/PI_278.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cee91b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_278.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+theory, and of Lachmann’s modifications with the character of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_279.txt b/PI_279.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed7c671
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_279.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_28.txt b/PI_28.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1afe73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_28.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_280.txt b/PI_280.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa013f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_280.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these poems,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_281.txt b/PI_281.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9ce3c4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_281.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_282.txt b/PI_282.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20a5651
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_282.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_283.txt b/PI_283.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e916d2f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_283.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+short, “a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_284.txt b/PI_284.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..955e02a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_284.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_285.txt b/PI_285.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cc983a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_285.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+period of its first compilation.” The friends or literary _employês_ of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_286.txt b/PI_286.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e97383f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_286.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already ancient, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_287.txt b/PI_287.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e668df
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_287.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_288.txt b/PI_288.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16ee251
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_288.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“recension,” goes far to prove, that, among the numerous manuscripts
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_289.txt b/PI_289.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5109bf1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_289.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_29.txt b/PI_29.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b043ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_29.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo,[20]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_290.txt b/PI_290.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..559fd7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_290.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+attention.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_291.txt b/PI_291.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_292.txt b/PI_292.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e334f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_292.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“Moreover,” he continues, “the whole tenor of the poems themselves
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_293.txt b/PI_293.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f6d6537
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_293.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_294.txt b/PI_294.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4507ed4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_294.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_295.txt b/PI_295.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9144a4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_295.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Peisistratus—nothing which brings to our view the alterations
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_296.txt b/PI_296.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1540d79
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_296.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_297.txt b/PI_297.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06bdc4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_297.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and republican
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_298.txt b/PI_298.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97cf663
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_298.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+governments, the close military array, the improved construction of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_299.txt b/PI_299.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9bd794
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_299.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual frequentation of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_3.txt b/PI_3.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9da419b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_3.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+remarks:—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_30.txt b/PI_30.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f923d8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_30.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_300.txt b/PI_300.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68bbc8f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_300.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins of religion, &c.,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_301.txt b/PI_301.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc91228
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_301.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations Onomakritus, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_302.txt b/PI_302.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9f79da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_302.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+other literary friends of Peisistratus, could hardly have failed to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_303.txt b/PI_303.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4b6be5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_303.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+notice, even without design, had they then, for the first time,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_304.txt b/PI_304.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35b245d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_304.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+undertaken the task of piecing together many self existent epics into
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_305.txt b/PI_305.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ad1541
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_305.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+one large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_306.txt b/PI_306.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8db6c33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_306.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+substance and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_307.txt b/PI_307.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65ff6a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_307.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_308.txt b/PI_308.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ef421e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_308.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+passages which, on the best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_309.txt b/PI_309.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b4c40e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_309.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+no trace of the sixth century before Christ, and may well have been
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_31.txt b/PI_31.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38e5791
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_31.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+critics. Longinus, in an oft quoted passage, merely expressed an
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_310.txt b/PI_310.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b12324d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_310.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heard by Archilochus and Kallinus—in some cases even by Arktinus and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_311.txt b/PI_311.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c287c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_311.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Hesiod—as genuine Homeric matter.[29] As far as the evidences on the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_312.txt b/PI_312.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58a9892
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_312.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+case, as well internal as external, enable us to judge, we seem
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_313.txt b/PI_313.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63fd351
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_313.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+warranted in believing that the Iliad and Odyssey were recited
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_314.txt b/PI_314.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd89160
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_314.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+substantially as they now stand (always allowing for partial
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_315.txt b/PI_315.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3189f0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_315.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_316.txt b/PI_316.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e857e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_316.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_317.txt b/PI_317.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e363bd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_317.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+added, as it is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_318.txt b/PI_318.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..130b67f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_318.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+important attribute of the Homeric poems, considered in reference to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_319.txt b/PI_319.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ae8514
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_319.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Grecian history; for they thus afford us an insight into the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_32.txt b/PI_32.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9924893
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_32.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_320.txt b/PI_320.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a4524f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_320.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling us to trace the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_321.txt b/PI_321.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85da0a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_321.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize instructive
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_322.txt b/PI_322.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6e0bda5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_322.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+contrasts between their former and their later condition.”[30]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_323.txt b/PI_323.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_324.txt b/PI_324.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9478617
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_324.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_325.txt b/PI_325.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c226fb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_325.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although, I must
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_326.txt b/PI_326.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1618f9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_326.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+confess, that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_327.txt b/PI_327.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58be1fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_327.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_328.txt b/PI_328.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9d39966
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_328.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_329.txt b/PI_329.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc8c3c4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_329.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_33.txt b/PI_33.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..276c871
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_33.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Iliad,[21] and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names[22]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_330.txt b/PI_330.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bca5fa6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_330.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+elegant mind of that Athenian[31] would lead him to preserve an ancient
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_331.txt b/PI_331.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d205402
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_331.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_332.txt b/PI_332.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20c216b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_332.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+re-construct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_333.txt b/PI_333.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3040f82
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_333.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written or not,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_334.txt b/PI_334.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fdc7ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_334.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their reputed
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_335.txt b/PI_335.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38fd63f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_335.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less satisfied we
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_336.txt b/PI_336.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2539beb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_336.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+are upon either subject.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_337.txt b/PI_337.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_338.txt b/PI_338.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6eea376
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_338.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_339.txt b/PI_339.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc8f75d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_339.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_34.txt b/PI_34.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf09c74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_34.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+it would be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_340.txt b/PI_340.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..40b143e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_340.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_341.txt b/PI_341.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7fad983
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_341.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+probability must be measured by that of many others relating to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_342.txt b/PI_342.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47d7bd3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_342.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Spartan Confucius.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_343.txt b/PI_343.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_344.txt b/PI_344.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65c9d52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_344.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories, with an attempt,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_345.txt b/PI_345.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b49992a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_345.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_346.txt b/PI_346.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1716d2f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_346.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+consistency. It is as follows:—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_347.txt b/PI_347.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_348.txt b/PI_348.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..62c1132
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_348.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_349.txt b/PI_349.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64e00f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_349.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to ‘discourse in excellent
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_35.txt b/PI_35.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee22529
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_35.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+non-existence of Homer ever arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_350.txt b/PI_350.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c5804c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_350.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+music’ among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_351.txt b/PI_351.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04a2215
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_351.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_352.txt b/PI_352.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37fd339
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_352.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+around them. But what was passing around them? The grand events of a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_353.txt b/PI_353.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd2558f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_353.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_354.txt b/PI_354.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f746719
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_354.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+mystical legends of former times had done, upon their memory; besides
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_355.txt b/PI_355.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c969a82
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_355.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue of the first water, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_356.txt b/PI_356.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..836434b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_356.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+was cultivated accordingly in those ancient times. Ballads at first,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_357.txt b/PI_357.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..94390d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_357.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were merely
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_358.txt b/PI_358.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9af3a20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_358.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_359.txt b/PI_359.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c408e80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_359.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_36.txt b/PI_36.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2edf978
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_36.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to be in favour of our early ideas on the subject; let us now see what
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_360.txt b/PI_360.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8bfc7ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_360.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+memory considerably.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_361.txt b/PI_361.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_362.txt b/PI_362.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18eeaef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_362.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_363.txt b/PI_363.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31c89a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_363.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Mœonides, but most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_364.txt b/PI_364.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ed6f0e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_364.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_365.txt b/PI_365.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6892ff1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_365.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_366.txt b/PI_366.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8dbe858
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_366.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays, connecting them
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_367.txt b/PI_367.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea1c60b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_367.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_368.txt b/PI_368.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7698849
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_368.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+‘Odyssea.’ The author, however, did not affix his own name to the poem,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_369.txt b/PI_369.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fb99a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_369.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the archaic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_37.txt b/PI_37.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5399ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_37.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+are the discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_370.txt b/PI_370.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f299fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_370.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by him. He
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_371.txt b/PI_371.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3ec88f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_371.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_372.txt b/PI_372.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..711fb2a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_372.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_373.txt b/PI_373.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e547f4f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_373.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+arrangement of other people’s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_374.txt b/PI_374.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f3dfd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_374.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+arguing for the unity of authorship, ‘a great poet might have re-cast
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_375.txt b/PI_375.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dbcffe9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_375.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_376.txt b/PI_376.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aed513e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_376.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+arrangers or compilers would be competent to do so.’
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_377.txt b/PI_377.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_378.txt b/PI_378.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1325db4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_378.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_379.txt b/PI_379.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0fe0ee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_379.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_38.txt b/PI_38.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_380.txt b/PI_380.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32e7166
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_380.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleïs[32] grew under
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_381.txt b/PI_381.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..055c180
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_381.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the poem
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_382.txt b/PI_382.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fedfbd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_382.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+under the same pseudonyme as his former work: and the disjointed lays
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_383.txt b/PI_383.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..50e4865
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_383.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the ancient bards were joined together, like those relating to the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_384.txt b/PI_384.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16f40c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_384.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Cid, into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes knew that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_385.txt b/PI_385.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bb4c6e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_385.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has proved; but,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_386.txt b/PI_386.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..40e37eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_386.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_387.txt b/PI_387.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45d5d4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_387.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_388.txt b/PI_388.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f2dc35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_388.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+assemblies, and agoras. However, Solôn first, and then Peisistratus,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_389.txt b/PI_389.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c70916
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_389.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_39.txt b/PI_39.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b8b4ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_39.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_390.txt b/PI_390.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db86ccc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_390.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_391.txt b/PI_391.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4201cad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_391.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+measure.”[33]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_392.txt b/PI_392.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_393.txt b/PI_393.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8980d09
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_393.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_394.txt b/PI_394.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..122bb28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_394.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_395.txt b/PI_395.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5f05140
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_395.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_396.txt b/PI_396.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd291b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_396.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_397.txt b/PI_397.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c2052b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_397.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may here
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_398.txt b/PI_398.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c2d9775
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_398.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the negligence of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_399.txt b/PI_399.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90df9dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_399.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the copyist, would be an absurd and captious assumption, but it is to a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_4.txt b/PI_4.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_40.txt b/PI_40.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc51687
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_40.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that “Homer wrote a sequel
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_400.txt b/PI_400.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5d5fdc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_400.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would either understand or
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_401.txt b/PI_401.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6484761
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_401.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and personality of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_402.txt b/PI_402.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fa61fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_402.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, _quocunque nomine vocari
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_403.txt b/PI_403.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c09bf41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_403.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+eum jus fasque sit_, I feel conscious that, while the whole weight of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_404.txt b/PI_404.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..850758e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_404.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign these
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_405.txt b/PI_405.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80d6610
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_405.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_406.txt b/PI_406.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43c72bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_406.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_407.txt b/PI_407.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d9cdb4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_407.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+impulse of the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_408.txt b/PI_408.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_409.txt b/PI_409.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75e2cbf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_409.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The minutiæ of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_41.txt b/PI_41.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7902e1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_41.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_410.txt b/PI_410.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6f741b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_410.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_411.txt b/PI_411.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1392a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_411.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_412.txt b/PI_412.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..047691b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_412.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store on
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_413.txt b/PI_413.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3bb0a6c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_413.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+its æsthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_414.txt b/PI_414.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..83393ee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_414.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_415.txt b/PI_415.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2163479
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_415.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+they been suggested to the author by his Mæcenas or Africanus, he
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_416.txt b/PI_416.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b9c0af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_416.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_417.txt b/PI_417.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0d963c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_417.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_418.txt b/PI_418.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16e7598
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_418.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_419.txt b/PI_419.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df584af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_419.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poets by profession, but may be so _per accidens_. I do not at this
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_42.txt b/PI_42.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9fc0091
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_42.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_420.txt b/PI_420.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d35f1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_420.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_421.txt b/PI_421.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cef2132
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_421.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_422.txt b/PI_422.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aca6df7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_422.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand minute
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_423.txt b/PI_423.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff9d29d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_423.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and jejune.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_424.txt b/PI_424.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_425.txt b/PI_425.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2f5581b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_425.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_426.txt b/PI_426.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9d595c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_426.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_427.txt b/PI_427.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c4eacd7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_427.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_428.txt b/PI_428.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f60a0f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_428.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_429.txt b/PI_429.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d05186e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_429.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+pruning knife by wholesale, and inconsistent in everything but their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_43.txt b/PI_43.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2666c3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_43.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till about
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_430.txt b/PI_430.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f26de55
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_430.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation, they cut out book
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_431.txt b/PI_431.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e14a84d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_431.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+after book, passage after passage, till the author is reduced to a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_432.txt b/PI_432.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4352950
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_432.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+collection of fragments, or till those, who fancied they possessed the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_433.txt b/PI_433.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8261079
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_433.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a vile
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_434.txt b/PI_434.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d762bee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_434.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_435.txt b/PI_435.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ac6c3b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_435.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Knight, Wolf, Lachmann, and others, we shall feel better satisfied of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_436.txt b/PI_436.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9804f13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_436.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_437.txt b/PI_437.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18c6be0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_437.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer. One rejects what another considers the turning-point of his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_438.txt b/PI_438.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7edeaef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_438.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging what another would
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_439.txt b/PI_439.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8dea477
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_439.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+explain by omitting something else.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_44.txt b/PI_44.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6200230
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_44.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus’ time, about five hundred years after.”[23]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_440.txt b/PI_440.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_441.txt b/PI_441.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb54398
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_441.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_442.txt b/PI_442.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1baebc8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_442.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_443.txt b/PI_443.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fdccd66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_443.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_444.txt b/PI_444.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..10dd7e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_444.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+attributed to Seneca are by _four_ different authors.[34] Now, I will
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_445.txt b/PI_445.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4225c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_445.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_446.txt b/PI_446.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d22e96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_446.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their borrowed phraseology—a phraseology with which writers like
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_447.txt b/PI_447.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01a0f77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_447.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves—in their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_448.txt b/PI_448.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb632c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_448.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an ultra-refined
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_449.txt b/PI_449.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd58a41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_449.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few writers of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_45.txt b/PI_45.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_450.txt b/PI_450.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b68bd48
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_450.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+present day would question the capabilities of the same gentleman, be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_451.txt b/PI_451.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3e5814
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_451.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many more
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_452.txt b/PI_452.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7640f3e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_452.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_453.txt b/PI_453.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ef3d265
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_453.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+with the startling announcement that the Æneid of Virgil, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_454.txt b/PI_454.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a148945
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_454.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_455.txt b/PI_455.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86c3683
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_455.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+say one word of disrespect against the industry and learning—nay, the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_456.txt b/PI_456.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1080daa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_456.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+refined acuteness—which scholars, like Wolf, have bestowed upon this
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_457.txt b/PI_457.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9a9f38a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_457.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+subject, I must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_458.txt b/PI_458.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..103e56f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_458.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+theories will become matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_459.txt b/PI_459.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2797eaa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_459.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can I help thinking, that the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_46.txt b/PI_46.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..29df045
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_46.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Two French writers—Hedelin and Perrault—avowed a similar scepticism on
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_460.txt b/PI_460.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e4676a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_460.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+literary history of more recent times will account for many points of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_461.txt b/PI_461.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..404c5f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_461.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+difficulty in the transmission of the Iliad and Odyssey to a period so
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_462.txt b/PI_462.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0202d63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_462.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+remote from that of their first creation.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_463.txt b/PI_463.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_464.txt b/PI_464.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edf1620
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_464.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_465.txt b/PI_465.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fb38fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_465.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_466.txt b/PI_466.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c74e65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_466.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_467.txt b/PI_467.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..349b019
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_467.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_468.txt b/PI_468.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed59f9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_468.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_469.txt b/PI_469.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28ede02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_469.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that they demand
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_47.txt b/PI_47.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49622dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_47.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the subject; but it is in the “Scienza Nuova” of Battista Vico, that we
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_470.txt b/PI_470.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d482ded
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_470.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry most powerfully
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_471.txt b/PI_471.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6d1ae7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_471.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The ingenuity which has
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_472.txt b/PI_472.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90f2e5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_472.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does too much
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_473.txt b/PI_473.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47f8a56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_473.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_474.txt b/PI_474.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb1c441
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_474.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_475.txt b/PI_475.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ef6f4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_475.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_476.txt b/PI_476.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28cc138
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_476.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+invention; to elevate analytical judgment at the expense of the most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_477.txt b/PI_477.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fde6236
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_477.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ennobling impulses of the soul; and to forget the ocean in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_478.txt b/PI_478.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..751261b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_478.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+contemplation of a polypus. There is a catholicity, so to speak, in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_479.txt b/PI_479.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0deafb7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_479.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of the Iliad may be a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_48.txt b/PI_48.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69354ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_48.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_480.txt b/PI_480.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb3e926
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_480.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_481.txt b/PI_481.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_482.txt b/PI_482.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fbd08e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_482.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_483.txt b/PI_483.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7fbcd7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_483.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_484.txt b/PI_484.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db48dd0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_484.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_485.txt b/PI_485.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee555e0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_485.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from that wealth
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_486.txt b/PI_486.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5912e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_486.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of imagination which a host of imitators could not exhaust,—still I am
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_487.txt b/PI_487.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e896238
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_487.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+far from wishing to deny that the author of these great poems found a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_488.txt b/PI_488.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c81c4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_488.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked mythical storehouse from whence
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_489.txt b/PI_489.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d31c6e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_489.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+he might derive both subject and embellishment. But it is one thing to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_49.txt b/PI_49.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ac8a80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_49.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_490.txt b/PI_490.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..503eed7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_490.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+_use_ existing romances in the embellishment of a poem, another to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_491.txt b/PI_491.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da3ca47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_491.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+patch up the poem itself from such materials. What consistency of style
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_492.txt b/PI_492.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0a46d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_492.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and execution can be hoped for from such an attempt? or, rather, what
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_493.txt b/PI_493.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b583de3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_493.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible result?
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_494.txt b/PI_494.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_495.txt b/PI_495.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4fe34b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_495.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_496.txt b/PI_496.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c15140e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_496.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_497.txt b/PI_497.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..289c710
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_497.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_498.txt b/PI_498.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..584912a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_498.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+impressions—nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_499.txt b/PI_499.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..947184c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_499.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless there be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_5.txt b/PI_5.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..330cc67
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_5.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_50.txt b/PI_50.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3561be3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_50.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_500.txt b/PI_500.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0d2356
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_500.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+some grand pervading principle—some invisible, yet most distinctly
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_501.txt b/PI_501.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c551612
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_501.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the Iliad can never
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_502.txt b/PI_502.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55e9b13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_502.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque, episodes the most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_503.txt b/PI_503.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8994f22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_503.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of gods and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_504.txt b/PI_504.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..726486e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_504.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in more
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_505.txt b/PI_505.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1686446
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_505.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_506.txt b/PI_506.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13f9b14
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_506.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+create a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_507.txt b/PI_507.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf8ac84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_507.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+embellishments, be present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_508.txt b/PI_508.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63e408b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_508.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+parterre filled with flowers and weeds strangling each other in their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_509.txt b/PI_509.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3633efa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_509.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wild redundancy: we shall have a cento of rags and tatters, which will
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_51.txt b/PI_51.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3c15ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_51.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:—[24]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_510.txt b/PI_510.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3703b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_510.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+require little acuteness to detect.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_511.txt b/PI_511.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_512.txt b/PI_512.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af569cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_512.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_513.txt b/PI_513.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4617d64
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_513.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_514.txt b/PI_514.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..685a9dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_514.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_515.txt b/PI_515.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6602817
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_515.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are not by nature
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_516.txt b/PI_516.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad60ad8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_516.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+intended to know all things; still less, to compass the powers by which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_517.txt b/PI_517.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c02979a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_517.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the greatest blessings of life have been placed at our disposal. Were
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_518.txt b/PI_518.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f07fa4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_518.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why God willed our
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_519.txt b/PI_519.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f315cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_519.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the contrary
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_52.txt b/PI_52.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_520.txt b/PI_520.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..07d76a8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_520.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_521.txt b/PI_521.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bbfa3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_521.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_522.txt b/PI_522.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..085ae33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_522.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_523.txt b/PI_523.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ebeac78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_523.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to the memory of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_524.txt b/PI_524.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e078c87
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_524.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the scepticism which would allegorize their existence into a pleasing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_525.txt b/PI_525.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fcd737
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_525.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+apologue, and measure the giants of intellect by an homeopathic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_526.txt b/PI_526.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..adbb304
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_526.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dynameter.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_527.txt b/PI_527.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_528.txt b/PI_528.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c6a1c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_528.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_529.txt b/PI_529.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aff1e7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_529.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_53.txt b/PI_53.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8f28e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_53.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_530.txt b/PI_530.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2df1c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_530.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_531.txt b/PI_531.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e6f857
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_531.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the minute spots
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_532.txt b/PI_532.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65b921a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_532.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic poem we must
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_533.txt b/PI_533.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6911faa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_533.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we in imagination
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_534.txt b/PI_534.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f90d323
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_534.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves, burn with the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_535.txt b/PI_535.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2d38d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_535.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can but
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_536.txt b/PI_536.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db8eac3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_536.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_537.txt b/PI_537.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43d3f7a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_537.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_538.txt b/PI_538.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c3c849
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_538.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_539.txt b/PI_539.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee9814b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_539.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of song.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_54.txt b/PI_54.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bcfc228
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_54.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_540.txt b/PI_540.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_541.txt b/PI_541.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fd795f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_541.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_542.txt b/PI_542.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae88c4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_542.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_543.txt b/PI_543.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d5df30
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_543.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_544.txt b/PI_544.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b32ed9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_544.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+observes:—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_545.txt b/PI_545.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_546.txt b/PI_546.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e5d6d9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_546.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_547.txt b/PI_547.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5cf6c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_547.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_548.txt b/PI_548.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d440080
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_548.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_549.txt b/PI_549.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abe7aba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_549.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_55.txt b/PI_55.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9604cfe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_55.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_550.txt b/PI_550.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af8fdb4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_550.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a feature in their character which was not wholly erased even in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_551.txt b/PI_551.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..440de3f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_551.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and sages appeared in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_552.txt b/PI_552.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a85924f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_552.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Greece, the work of the poet had already been accomplished; and they
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_553.txt b/PI_553.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08957ab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_553.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+paid homage to his superior genius. He held up before his nation the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_554.txt b/PI_554.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5724909
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_554.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+mirror, in which they were to behold the world of gods and heroes no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_555.txt b/PI_555.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48a7f2e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_555.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with purity
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_556.txt b/PI_556.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ec8e48
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_556.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_557.txt b/PI_557.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a30fba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_557.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_558.txt b/PI_558.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55da7c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_558.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+outweighs all others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_559.txt b/PI_559.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..565e08a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_559.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+from a breast which sympathized with all the feelings of man; and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_56.txt b/PI_56.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6402835
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_56.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_560.txt b/PI_560.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3c1d5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_560.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+therefore they enter, and will continue to enter, every breast which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_561.txt b/PI_561.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86a6d5a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_561.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+cherishes the same sympathies. If it is granted to his immortal spirit,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_562.txt b/PI_562.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99d86b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_562.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+from another heaven than any of which he dreamed on earth, to look down
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_563.txt b/PI_563.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..586fdfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_563.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+on his race, to see the nations from the fields of Asia to the forests
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_564.txt b/PI_564.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0217f98
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_564.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_565.txt b/PI_565.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4696f98
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_565.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_566.txt b/PI_566.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58f9090
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_566.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_567.txt b/PI_567.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e4aaad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_567.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+been called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_568.txt b/PI_568.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..009b763
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_568.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+spirit may reside, this alone would suffice to complete his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_569.txt b/PI_569.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1e23bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_569.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+happiness.”[35]
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_57.txt b/PI_57.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c133641
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_57.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_570.txt b/PI_570.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_571.txt b/PI_571.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dcf8aca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_571.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the “Apotheosis of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_572.txt b/PI_572.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eed5ba5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_572.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer”[36] is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_573.txt b/PI_573.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..574c9b7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_573.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+association, how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_574.txt b/PI_574.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2c1b1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_574.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+our minds, is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_575.txt b/PI_575.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..36f601a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_575.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+tradition? The more we read, and the more we think—think as becomes the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_576.txt b/PI_576.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7467327
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_576.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+readers of Homer,—the more rooted becomes the conviction that the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_577.txt b/PI_577.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b89809b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_577.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Father of Poetry gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_578.txt b/PI_578.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..085ae86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_578.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Whatever were the means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_579.txt b/PI_579.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47c232d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_579.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+for the treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_58.txt b/PI_58.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8144c2a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_58.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_580.txt b/PI_580.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b9badf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_580.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+seek to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_581.txt b/PI_581.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c59b32b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_581.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+theories, whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_582.txt b/PI_582.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9abadb8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_582.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+each other.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_583.txt b/PI_583.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_584.txt b/PI_584.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae9eaa2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_584.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_585.txt b/PI_585.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f7a411f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_585.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+included in Pope’s translation, I will content myself with a brief
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_586.txt b/PI_586.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11fed25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_586.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_587.txt b/PI_587.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..521e6ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_587.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+who has done it full justice[37]:—
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_588.txt b/PI_588.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_589.txt b/PI_589.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc446a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_589.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“This poem,” says Coleridge, “is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_59.txt b/PI_59.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e284f78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_59.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been cemented together into
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_590.txt b/PI_590.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9bcc9fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_590.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_591.txt b/PI_591.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd85cf7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_591.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_592.txt b/PI_592.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3abc6bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_592.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+essay of Homer’s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_593.txt b/PI_593.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67e9261
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_593.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_594.txt b/PI_594.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6b480b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_594.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_595.txt b/PI_595.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0c4d79
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_595.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_596.txt b/PI_596.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e01fda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_596.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+know or care about that department of criticism employed in determining
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_597.txt b/PI_597.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e0e3340
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_597.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the genuineness of ancient writings. As to this little poem being a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_598.txt b/PI_598.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e18640c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_598.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+youthful profusion of Homer, it seems sufficient to say that from the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_599.txt b/PI_599.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f92fe6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_599.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+beginning to the end it is a plain and palpable parody, not only of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_6.txt b/PI_6.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47c320f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_6.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_60.txt b/PI_60.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eee3a3d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_60.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+any compact body and unchangeable order, until the days of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_600.txt b/PI_600.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e9784b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_600.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+general spirit, but of the numerous passages of the Iliad itself; and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_601.txt b/PI_601.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ba1f10
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_601.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+even, if no such intention to parody were discernible in it, the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_602.txt b/PI_602.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f597869
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_602.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_603.txt b/PI_603.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63a3ed6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_603.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_604.txt b/PI_604.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48c615a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_604.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that order in the development of national taste, which the history of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_605.txt b/PI_605.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26a8fd3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_605.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+every other people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_606.txt b/PI_606.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..62bf15c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_606.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ascertained to be a law of the human mind; it is in a state of society
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_607.txt b/PI_607.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23ed096
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_607.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+much more refined and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_608.txt b/PI_608.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5a800a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_608.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_609.txt b/PI_609.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..496f617
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_609.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed three
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_61.txt b/PI_61.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8777c70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_61.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a step towards
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_610.txt b/PI_610.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f7ff7f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_610.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_611.txt b/PI_611.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b62e99d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_611.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_612.txt b/PI_612.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5f084e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_612.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+them were of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_613.txt b/PI_613.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..309167b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_613.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+deltos, “writing tablet,” instead of διφθέρα, “skin,” which, according
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_614.txt b/PI_614.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..657ceb7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_614.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to Herod. 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_615.txt b/PI_615.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5881cad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_615.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_616.txt b/PI_616.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2999caf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_616.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_617.txt b/PI_617.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7adbfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_617.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+strong argument against so ancient a date for its composition.”
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_618.txt b/PI_618.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_619.txt b/PI_619.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9a1dd1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_619.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope’s
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_62.txt b/PI_62.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1595140
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_62.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies of either poem
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_620.txt b/PI_620.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5dad858
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_620.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_621.txt b/PI_621.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eea3285
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_621.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and on my own purpose in the present edition.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_622.txt b/PI_622.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_623.txt b/PI_623.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d870af5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_623.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_624.txt b/PI_624.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08a901b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_624.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_625.txt b/PI_625.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06655eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_625.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_626.txt b/PI_626.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e1d1dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_626.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+disposition to be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_627.txt b/PI_627.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1bb7f41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_627.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+deeply into the minute and delicate features of language. Hence his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_628.txt b/PI_628.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b791350
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_628.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+whole work is to be looked upon rather as an elegant paraphrase than a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_629.txt b/PI_629.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39c80a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_629.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+translation. There are, to be sure, certain conventional anecdotes,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_63.txt b/PI_63.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51daf1b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_63.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+could be shown to have existed during the earlier times, to which their
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_630.txt b/PI_630.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f39772
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_630.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which prove that Pope consulted various friends, whose classical
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_631.txt b/PI_631.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7285111
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_631.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+attainments were sounder than his own, during the undertaking; but it
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_632.txt b/PI_632.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0093e79
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_632.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+is probable that these examinations were the result rather of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_633.txt b/PI_633.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b59e237
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_633.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_634.txt b/PI_634.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e8eccb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_634.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_635.txt b/PI_635.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..57ec10b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_635.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+literal translation was less cultivated than at present. If something
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_636.txt b/PI_636.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b28df8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_636.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+like the general sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_637.txt b/PI_637.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6ca4168
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_637.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a practised poet; if the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_638.txt b/PI_638.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45024bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_638.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fluency could be made consistent with a fair interpretation of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_639.txt b/PI_639.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3ca7896
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_639.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poet’s meaning, his _words_ were less jealously sought for, and those
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_64.txt b/PI_64.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7c8144
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_64.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the perfect
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_640.txt b/PI_640.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f4db9fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_640.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+who could read so good a poem as Pope’s Iliad had fair reason to be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_641.txt b/PI_641.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ce5053
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_641.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+satisfied.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_642.txt b/PI_642.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_643.txt b/PI_643.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e602d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_643.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope’s translation by our own
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_644.txt b/PI_644.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99c8bcf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_644.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_645.txt b/PI_645.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5b6b05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_645.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+it as a most delightful work in itself,—a work which is as much a part
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_646.txt b/PI_646.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4628080
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_646.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_647.txt b/PI_647.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59a1975
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_647.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_648.txt b/PI_648.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b2a935
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_648.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize, merely because
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_649.txt b/PI_649.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c520754
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_649.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more accurate as to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_65.txt b/PI_65.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b58b89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_65.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_650.txt b/PI_650.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8dd340
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_650.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ἀμφικύπελλον being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_651.txt b/PI_651.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b390f17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_651.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+us to defend the faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman’s
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_652.txt b/PI_652.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df61d4f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_652.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fine, bold, rough old English;—far be it from us to hold up his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_653.txt b/PI_653.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d190b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_653.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+translation as what a translation of Homer _might_ be. But we can still
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_654.txt b/PI_654.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb65570
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_654.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dismiss Pope’s Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_655.txt b/PI_655.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eae75a3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_655.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+consciousness that they must have read a very great number of books
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_656.txt b/PI_656.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe413ab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_656.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+before they have read its fellow.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_657.txt b/PI_657.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_658.txt b/PI_658.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..170661f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_658.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+As to the Notes accompanying the present volume, they are drawn up
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_659.txt b/PI_659.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45a7d31
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_659.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+without pretension, and mainly with the view of helping the general
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_66.txt b/PI_66.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb2a042
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_66.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_660.txt b/PI_660.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da0c2b7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_660.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+reader. Having some little time since translated all the works of Homer
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_661.txt b/PI_661.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..387afac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_661.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+for another publisher, I might have brought a large amount of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_662.txt b/PI_662.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51b13b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_662.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+accumulated matter, sometimes of a critical character, to bear upon the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_663.txt b/PI_663.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a9142dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_663.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+text. But Pope’s version was no field for such a display; and my
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_664.txt b/PI_664.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e14e9d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_664.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+purpose was to touch briefly on antiquarian or mythological allusions,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_665.txt b/PI_665.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48e9fa7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_665.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to notice occasionally _some_ departures from the original, and to give
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_666.txt b/PI_666.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc0ab94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_666.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a few parallel passages from our English Homer, Milton. In the latter
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_667.txt b/PI_667.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2872756
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_667.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+task I cannot pretend to novelty, but I trust that my other
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_668.txt b/PI_668.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e4a0ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_668.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+annotations, while utterly disclaiming high scholastic views, will be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_669.txt b/PI_669.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ca4f1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_669.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+found to convey as much as is wanted; at least, as far as the necessary
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_67.txt b/PI_67.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..628af4e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_67.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+posterity. The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_670.txt b/PI_670.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06c424e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_670.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+limits of these volumes could be expected to admit. To write a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_671.txt b/PI_671.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1614efd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_671.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+commentary on Homer is not my present aim; but if I have made Pope’s
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_672.txt b/PI_672.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5240102
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_672.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+translation a little more entertaining and instructive to a mass of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_673.txt b/PI_673.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee562f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_673.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+miscellaneous readers, I shall consider my wishes satisfactorily
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_674.txt b/PI_674.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9fc74d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_674.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+accomplished.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_675.txt b/PI_675.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_676.txt b/PI_676.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4390652
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_676.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_677.txt b/PI_677.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_678.txt b/PI_678.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_679.txt b/PI_679.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f5015d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_679.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+_Christ Church_.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_68.txt b/PI_68.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..790c848
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_68.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+indispensably supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_680.txt b/PI_680.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_681.txt b/PI_681.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_682.txt b/PI_682.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_683.txt b/PI_683.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_684.txt b/PI_684.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c78a41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_684.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+POPE’S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD OF HOMER
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_685.txt b/PI_685.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_686.txt b/PI_686.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_687.txt b/PI_687.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff63be9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_687.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest invention of any
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_688.txt b/PI_688.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d842f84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_688.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+writer whatever. The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_689.txt b/PI_689.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..09eea04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_689.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+with him, and others may have their pretensions as to particular
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_69.txt b/PI_69.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f8ea0b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_69.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+was thus one of the points in Wolf’s case against the primitive
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_690.txt b/PI_690.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c2db9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_690.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+excellences; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_691.txt b/PI_691.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25c76bd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_691.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wonder if he has ever been acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_692.txt b/PI_692.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a963c94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_692.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetry. It is the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_693.txt b/PI_693.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d9ec46b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_693.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+invention that, in different degrees, distinguishes all great geniuses:
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_694.txt b/PI_694.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ca33de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_694.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the utmost stretch of human study, learning, and industry, which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_695.txt b/PI_695.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..011093d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_695.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+masters everything besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes art
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_696.txt b/PI_696.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a897210
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_696.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+with all her materials, and without it judgment itself can at best but
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_697.txt b/PI_697.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3515c1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_697.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“steal wisely:” for art is only like a prudent steward that lives on
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_698.txt b/PI_698.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fcf93a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_698.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+managing the riches of nature. Whatever praises may be given to works
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_699.txt b/PI_699.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06e6a18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_699.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them to which the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_7.txt b/PI_7.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6fffd7f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_7.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_70.txt b/PI_70.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc4190b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_70.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_700.txt b/PI_700.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47b2472
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_700.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+invention must not contribute: as in the most regular gardens, art can
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_701.txt b/PI_701.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c9f3c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_701.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+only reduce beauties of nature to more regularity, and such a figure,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_702.txt b/PI_702.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..440857f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_702.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which the common eye may better take in, and is, therefore, more
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_703.txt b/PI_703.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d949844
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_703.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+entertained with. And, perhaps, the reason why common critics are
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_704.txt b/PI_704.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..abbbbe3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_704.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+inclined to prefer a judicious and methodical genius to a great and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_705.txt b/PI_705.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a276afa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_705.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_706.txt b/PI_706.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c78ddb6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_706.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their observations through a uniform and bounded walk of art, than to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_707.txt b/PI_707.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb101f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_707.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+comprehend the vast and various extent of nature.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_708.txt b/PI_708.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_709.txt b/PI_709.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11239fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_709.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Our author’s work is a wild paradise, where, if we cannot see all the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_71.txt b/PI_71.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..451a428
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_71.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+opponents of Wolf, the connection of the one with the other seems to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_710.txt b/PI_710.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2b01f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_710.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+beauties so distinctly as in an ordered garden, it is only because the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_711.txt b/PI_711.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba00403
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_711.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+number of them is infinitely greater. It is like a copious nursery,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_712.txt b/PI_712.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b4734e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_712.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_713.txt b/PI_713.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..389be94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_713.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which those who followed him have but selected some particular plants,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_714.txt b/PI_714.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..991b251
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_714.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_715.txt b/PI_715.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be58f18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_715.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+are too luxuriant it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_716.txt b/PI_716.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c27b53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_716.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+others are not arrived to perfection or maturity, it is only because
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_717.txt b/PI_717.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..301b6ab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_717.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+they are overrun and oppressed by those of a stronger nature.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_718.txt b/PI_718.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_719.txt b/PI_719.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd839bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_719.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_72.txt b/PI_72.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4210671
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_72.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have been accepted as he originally put it; and it has been considered
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_720.txt b/PI_720.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55ed222
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_720.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_721.txt b/PI_721.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbedb59
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_721.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_722.txt b/PI_722.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c788da8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_722.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+What he writes is of the most animated nature imaginable; every thing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_723.txt b/PI_723.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0737fca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_723.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+moves, every thing lives, and is put in action. If a council be called,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_724.txt b/PI_724.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..220a02a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_724.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or a battle fought, you are not coldly informed of what was said or
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_725.txt b/PI_725.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0330ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_725.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+done as from a third person; the reader is hurried out of himself by
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_726.txt b/PI_726.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..19f0189
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_726.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_727.txt b/PI_727.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a720dfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_727.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+hearer, in another to a spectator. The course of his verses resembles
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_728.txt b/PI_728.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d3a2b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_728.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that of the army he describes,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_729.txt b/PI_729.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_73.txt b/PI_73.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf7e0f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_73.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate character of the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_730.txt b/PI_730.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e6e0c4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_730.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+    Οἵδ’ ἄῤ ἴσαν, ὡσεί τε πυρὶ χθὼν πἆσα νέμοιτο.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_731.txt b/PI_731.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_732.txt b/PI_732.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dfe95cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_732.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it.” It
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_733.txt b/PI_733.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0b773c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_733.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+is, however, remarkable, that his fancy, which is everywhere vigorous,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_734.txt b/PI_734.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d17e45f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_734.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+is not discovered immediately at the beginning of his poem in its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_735.txt b/PI_735.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b711b98
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_735.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fullest splendour: it grows in the progress both upon himself and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_736.txt b/PI_736.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f555099
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_736.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+others, and becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_737.txt b/PI_737.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9ffa6b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_737.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Exact disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_738.txt b/PI_738.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5acce6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_738.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+may have been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this “vivida
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_739.txt b/PI_739.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b22aff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_739.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+vis animi,” in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_74.txt b/PI_74.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4b7283
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_74.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems from the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_740.txt b/PI_740.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa229e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_740.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or neglected, this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_741.txt b/PI_741.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6786850
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_741.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+while we disapprove. Nay, where this appears, though attended with
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_742.txt b/PI_742.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24f0e01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_742.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+absurdities, it brightens all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_743.txt b/PI_743.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acf0363
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_743.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+but its own splendour. This fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_744.txt b/PI_744.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c42810
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_744.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+as through a glass, reflected from Homer, more shining than fierce, but
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_745.txt b/PI_745.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67dae08
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_745.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+everywhere equal and constant: in Lucan and Statius it bursts out in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_746.txt b/PI_746.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0df864c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_746.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+sudden, short, and interrupted flashes: In Milton it glows like a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_747.txt b/PI_747.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..777e813
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_747.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour by the force of art: in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_748.txt b/PI_748.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4a15c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_748.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Shakspeare it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental fire from
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_749.txt b/PI_749.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..723995f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_749.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heaven: but in Homer, and in him only, it burns everywhere clearly and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_75.txt b/PI_75.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca6b0fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_75.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+beginning.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_750.txt b/PI_750.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fefb52f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_750.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+everywhere irresistibly.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_751.txt b/PI_751.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_752.txt b/PI_752.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a803322
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_752.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+I shall here endeavour to show how this vast invention exerts itself in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_753.txt b/PI_753.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35049db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_753.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a manner superior to that of any poet through all the main constituent
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_754.txt b/PI_754.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b64929
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_754.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+parts of his work: as it is the great and peculiar characteristic which
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_755.txt b/PI_755.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05f2773
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_755.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+distinguishes him from all other authors.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_756.txt b/PI_756.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_757.txt b/PI_757.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2a2999
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_757.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+This strong and ruling faculty was like a powerful star, which, in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_758.txt b/PI_758.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e43231
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_758.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+violence of its course, drew all things within its vortex. It seemed
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_759.txt b/PI_759.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..37a5388
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_759.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+not enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_76.txt b/PI_76.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_760.txt b/PI_760.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34080d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_760.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+compass of nature, to supply his maxims and reflections; all the inward
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_761.txt b/PI_761.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d19d7b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_761.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+passions and affections of mankind, to furnish his characters: and all
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_762.txt b/PI_762.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..94db8f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_762.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the outward forms and images of things for his descriptions: but
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_763.txt b/PI_763.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..969637c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_763.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_764.txt b/PI_764.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d749878
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_764.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+boundless walk for his imagination, and created a world for himself in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_765.txt b/PI_765.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4870069
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_765.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the invention of fable. That which Aristotle calls “the soul of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_766.txt b/PI_766.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b3e231
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_766.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poetry,” was first breathed into it by Homer. I shall begin with
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_767.txt b/PI_767.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d596610
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_767.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+considering him in his part, as it is naturally the first; and I speak
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_768.txt b/PI_768.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25fbd9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_768.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of it both as it means the design of a poem, and as it is taken for
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_769.txt b/PI_769.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90ea212
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_769.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fiction.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_77.txt b/PI_77.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d741ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_77.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_770.txt b/PI_770.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_771.txt b/PI_771.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_772.txt b/PI_772.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e25952c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_772.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Fable may be divided into the probable, the allegorical, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_773.txt b/PI_773.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1a9e97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_773.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+marvellous. The probable fable is the recital of such actions as,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_774.txt b/PI_774.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6036eda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_774.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+though they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of nature;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_775.txt b/PI_775.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea7cfec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_775.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+or of such as, though they did, became fables by the additional
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_776.txt b/PI_776.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0861e2c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_776.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main story of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_777.txt b/PI_777.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a8edf7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_777.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+an epic poem, “The return of Ulysses, the settlement of the Trojans in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_778.txt b/PI_778.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f94b7f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_778.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Italy,” or the like. That of the Iliad is the “anger of Achilles,” the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_779.txt b/PI_779.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9de00bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_779.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+most short and single subject that ever was chosen by any poet. Yet
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_78.txt b/PI_78.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84d4232
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_78.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_780.txt b/PI_780.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c34f6d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_780.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+this he has supplied with a vaster variety of incidents and events, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_781.txt b/PI_781.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e79fa2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_781.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+crowded with a greater number of councils, speeches, battles, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_782.txt b/PI_782.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d20179f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_782.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those poems whose
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_783.txt b/PI_783.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..866f9a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_783.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+schemes are of the utmost latitude and irregularity. The action is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_784.txt b/PI_784.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e437e56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_784.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+hurried on with the most vehement spirit, and its whole duration
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_785.txt b/PI_785.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa56c7a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_785.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+employs not so much as fifty days. Virgil, for want of so warm a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_786.txt b/PI_786.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..253905e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_786.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive subject, as well as
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_787.txt b/PI_787.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f86cf5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_787.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a greater length of time, and contracting the design of both Homer’s
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_788.txt b/PI_788.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06830fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_788.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_789.txt b/PI_789.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8791b33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_789.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+other epic poets have used the same practice, but generally carried it
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_79.txt b/PI_79.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..031cfdc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_79.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_790.txt b/PI_790.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4896180
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_790.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+so far as to superinduce a multiplicity of fables, destroy the unity of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_791.txt b/PI_791.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1a4e5c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_791.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+action, and lose their readers in an unreasonable length of time. Nor
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_792.txt b/PI_792.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fea407f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_792.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+is it only in the main design that they have been unable to add to his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_793.txt b/PI_793.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a60148
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_793.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+invention, but they have followed him in every episode and part of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_794.txt b/PI_794.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2144808
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_794.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+story. If he has given a regular catalogue of an army, they all draw up
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_795.txt b/PI_795.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cf4335
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_795.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their forces in the same order. If he has funeral games for Patroclus,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_796.txt b/PI_796.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fbafd8c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_796.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Virgil has the same for Anchises, and Statius (rather than omit them)
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_797.txt b/PI_797.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee69d91
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_797.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+destroys the unity of his actions for those of Archemorus. If Ulysses
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_798.txt b/PI_798.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31f6d26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_798.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+visit the shades, the Æneas of Virgil and Scipio of Silius are sent
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_799.txt b/PI_799.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..082dbb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_799.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+after him. If he be detained from his return by the allurements of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_8.txt b/PI_8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8411fe2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_80.txt b/PI_80.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be7ccda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_80.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in order to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_800.txt b/PI_800.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..703698c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_800.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Calypso, so is Æneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Armida. If Achilles be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_801.txt b/PI_801.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1208868
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_801.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+absent from the army on the score of a quarrel through half the poem,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_802.txt b/PI_802.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41c7010
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_802.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Rinaldo must absent himself just as long on the like account. If he
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_803.txt b/PI_803.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..94d1944
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_803.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+gives his hero a suit of celestial armour, Virgil and Tasso make the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_804.txt b/PI_804.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d84054b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_804.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+same present to theirs. Virgil has not only observed this close
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_805.txt b/PI_805.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d97dd1e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_805.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+imitation of Homer, but, where he had not led the way, supplied the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_806.txt b/PI_806.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3752c84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_806.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+want from other Greek authors. Thus the story of Sinon, and the taking
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_807.txt b/PI_807.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1cf4db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_807.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Troy, was copied (says Macrobius) almost word for word from
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_808.txt b/PI_808.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c3a149
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_808.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Pisander, as the loves of Dido and Æneas are taken from those of Medea
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_809.txt b/PI_809.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5375324
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_809.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and Jason in Apollonius, and several others in the same manner.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_81.txt b/PI_81.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28ccefd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_81.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting long
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_810.txt b/PI_810.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_811.txt b/PI_811.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_812.txt b/PI_812.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2f5d7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_812.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+To proceed to the allegorical fable—If we reflect upon those
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_813.txt b/PI_813.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f96408b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_813.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+innumerable knowledges, those secrets of nature and physical philosophy
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_814.txt b/PI_814.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a0804e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_814.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which Homer is generally supposed to have wrapped up in his allegories,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_815.txt b/PI_815.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0efd77c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_815.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+what a new and ample scene of wonder may this consideration afford us!
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_816.txt b/PI_816.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48b32ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_816.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+How fertile will that imagination appear, which was able to clothe all
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_817.txt b/PI_817.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a71c7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_817.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the properties of elements, the qualifications of the mind, the virtues
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_818.txt b/PI_818.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8121f2c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_818.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and vices, in forms and persons, and to introduce them into actions
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_819.txt b/PI_819.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4092699
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_819.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+agreeable to the nature of the things they shadowed! This is a field in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_82.txt b/PI_82.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd70ac0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_82.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian æra. Few
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_820.txt b/PI_820.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c48e40
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_820.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+which no succeeding poets could dispute with Homer, and whatever
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_821.txt b/PI_821.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d02413d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_821.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+commendations have been allowed them on this head, are by no means for
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_822.txt b/PI_822.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db21d41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_822.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their invention in having enlarged his circle, but for their judgment
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_823.txt b/PI_823.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78fe829
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_823.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+in having contracted it. For when the mode of learning changed in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_824.txt b/PI_824.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccc4606
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_824.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+following ages, and science was delivered in a plainer manner, it then
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_825.txt b/PI_825.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..443d7b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_825.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+became as reasonable in the more modern poets to lay it aside, as it
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_826.txt b/PI_826.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7292286
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_826.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+was in Homer to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_827.txt b/PI_827.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..007258f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_827.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his time that demand
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_828.txt b/PI_828.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc582e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_828.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+upon him of so great an invention as might be capable of furnishing all
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_829.txt b/PI_829.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ef622bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_829.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+those allegorical parts of a poem.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_83.txt b/PI_83.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..817c67b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_83.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne Knight,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_830.txt b/PI_830.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_831.txt b/PI_831.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_832.txt b/PI_832.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2294cf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_832.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The marvellous fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_833.txt b/PI_833.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7dceb8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_833.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the machines of the gods. If Homer was not the first who introduced the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_834.txt b/PI_834.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7581e9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_834.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the religion of Greece, he seems
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_835.txt b/PI_835.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b29bdde
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_835.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the first who brought them into a system of machinery for poetry, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_836.txt b/PI_836.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b04a79e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_836.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+such a one as makes its greatest importance and dignity: for we find
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_837.txt b/PI_837.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d94b25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_837.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+those authors who have been offended at the literal notion of the gods,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_838.txt b/PI_838.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9690f30
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_838.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+constantly laying their accusation against Homer as the chief support
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_839.txt b/PI_839.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c3040e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_839.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of it. But whatever cause there might be to blame his machines in a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_84.txt b/PI_84.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecb8431
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_84.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less than
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_840.txt b/PI_840.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..142bceb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_840.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+philosophical or religious view, they are so perfect in the poetic,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_841.txt b/PI_841.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1bc109
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_841.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: none have
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_842.txt b/PI_842.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e93591
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_842.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+been able to enlarge the sphere of poetry beyond the limits he has set:
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_843.txt b/PI_843.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c88be31
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_843.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+every attempt of this nature has proved unsuccessful; and after all the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_844.txt b/PI_844.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b6680e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_844.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+various changes of times and religions, his gods continue to this day
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_845.txt b/PI_845.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a081f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_845.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the gods of poetry.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_846.txt b/PI_846.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_847.txt b/PI_847.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_848.txt b/PI_848.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34c741c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_848.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+We come now to the characters of his persons; and here we shall find no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_849.txt b/PI_849.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41c1db2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_849.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+author has ever drawn so many, with so visible and surprising a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_85.txt b/PI_85.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0505db8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_85.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_850.txt b/PI_850.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90ec810
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_850.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+variety, or given us such lively and affecting impressions of them.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_851.txt b/PI_851.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0096f6e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_851.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Every one has something so singularly his own, that no painter could
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_852.txt b/PI_852.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24728c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_852.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have distinguished them more by their features, than the poet has by
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_853.txt b/PI_853.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9cc51cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_853.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+their manners. Nothing can be more exact than the distinctions he has
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_854.txt b/PI_854.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..36880d9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_854.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+observed in the different degrees of virtues and vices. The single
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_855.txt b/PI_855.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6c08ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_855.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+quality of courage is wonderfully diversified in the several characters
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_856.txt b/PI_856.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0bf3ac6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_856.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and intractable; that of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_857.txt b/PI_857.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08a1025
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_857.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Diomede forward, yet listening to advice, and subject to command; that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_858.txt b/PI_858.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bfef901
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_858.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Ajax is heavy and self-confiding; of Hector, active and vigilant:
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_859.txt b/PI_859.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6cba81d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_859.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the courage of Agamemnon is inspirited by love of empire and ambition;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_86.txt b/PI_86.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01d3e70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_86.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+century before the Christian æra, are exceedingly trifling. We have no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_860.txt b/PI_860.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dad9ec9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_860.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that of Menelaus mixed with softness and tenderness for his people: we
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_861.txt b/PI_861.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cfb9cec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_861.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+find in Idomeneus a plain direct soldier; in Sarpedon a gallant and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_862.txt b/PI_862.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fd3461
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_862.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing diversity to be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_863.txt b/PI_863.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f4ba23c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_863.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+found only in the principal quality which constitutes the main of each
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_864.txt b/PI_864.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e382a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_864.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+character, but even in the under parts of it, to which he takes care to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_865.txt b/PI_865.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7671830
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_865.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+give a tincture of that principal one. For example: the main characters
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_866.txt b/PI_866.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..748be35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_866.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of Ulysses and Nestor consist in wisdom; and they are distinct in this,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_867.txt b/PI_867.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a453d29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_867.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that the wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_868.txt b/PI_868.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..543d0ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_868.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+open, and regular. But they have, besides, characters of courage; and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_869.txt b/PI_869.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..faa960d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_869.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+this quality also takes a different turn in each from the difference of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_87.txt b/PI_87.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d079ddf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_87.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_870.txt b/PI_870.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12f2dee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_870.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his prudence; for one in the war depends still upon caution, the other
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_871.txt b/PI_871.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..17f53f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_871.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+upon experience. It would be endless to produce instances of these
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_872.txt b/PI_872.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4bb80a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_872.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+kinds. The characters of Virgil are far from striking us in this open
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_873.txt b/PI_873.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b43dc95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_873.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+manner; they lie, in a great degree, hidden and undistinguished; and,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_874.txt b/PI_874.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cfa3427
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_874.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+where they are marked most evidently affect us not in proportion to
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_875.txt b/PI_875.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85ca510
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_875.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+those of Homer. His characters of valour are much alike; even that of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_876.txt b/PI_876.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..46202fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_876.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Turnus seems no way peculiar, but, as it is, in a superior degree; and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_877.txt b/PI_877.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..121e150
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_877.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+we see nothing that differences the courage of Mnestheus from that of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_878.txt b/PI_878.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7dd6993
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_878.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Sergestus, Cloanthus, or the rest. In like manner it may be remarked of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_879.txt b/PI_879.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9716abc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_879.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Statius’s heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs through them all; the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_88.txt b/PI_88.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7675562
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_88.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_880.txt b/PI_880.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d1321f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_880.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_881.txt b/PI_881.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..069a768
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_881.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Hippomedon, &c. They have a parity of character, which makes them seem
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_882.txt b/PI_882.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..184af5a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_882.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+brothers of one family. I believe when the reader is led into this
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_883.txt b/PI_883.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccdf4dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_883.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+tract of reflection, if he will pursue it through the epic and tragic
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_884.txt b/PI_884.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a22f043
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_884.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior, in this point,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_885.txt b/PI_885.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af8cf72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_885.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the invention of Homer was to that of all others.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_886.txt b/PI_886.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_887.txt b/PI_887.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_888.txt b/PI_888.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dec36a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_888.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+The speeches are to be considered as they flow from the characters;
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_889.txt b/PI_889.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d039363
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_889.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the manners,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_89.txt b/PI_89.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc2e9be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_89.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonidês of Amorgus, Kallinus,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_890.txt b/PI_890.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1f2035
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_890.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of those who utter them. As there is more variety of characters in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_891.txt b/PI_891.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31f7e9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_891.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Iliad, so there is of speeches, than in any other poem. “Everything in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_892.txt b/PI_892.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3fe5f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_892.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+it has manner” (as Aristotle expresses it), that is, everything is
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_893.txt b/PI_893.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4a2c16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_893.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+acted or spoken. It is hardly credible, in a work of such length, how
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_894.txt b/PI_894.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a172f90
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_894.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+small a number of lines are employed in narration. In Virgil the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_895.txt b/PI_895.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b953d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_895.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+dramatic part is less in proportion to the narrative, and the speeches
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_896.txt b/PI_896.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b7cc3f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_896.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+often consist of general reflections or thoughts, which might be
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_897.txt b/PI_897.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38ccc60
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_897.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+equally just in any person’s mouth upon the same occasion. As many of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_898.txt b/PI_898.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0c4a3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_898.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his persons have no apparent characters, so many of his speeches escape
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_899.txt b/PI_899.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0243ed0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_899.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+being applied and judged by the rule of propriety. We oftener think of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_9.txt b/PI_9.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18411d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_9.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_90.txt b/PI_90.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59f6605
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_90.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Tyrtæus, Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric poets,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_900.txt b/PI_900.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..35a6d00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_900.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are engaged in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_901.txt b/PI_901.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c90c05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_901.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer, all which are the effects of a colder invention, that interests
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_902.txt b/PI_902.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fef147
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_902.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+us less in the action described. Homer makes us hearers, and Virgil
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_903.txt b/PI_903.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d3ba86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_903.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+leaves us readers.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_904.txt b/PI_904.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_905.txt b/PI_905.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_906.txt b/PI_906.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4f7336
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_906.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+If, in the next place, we take a view of the sentiments, the same
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_907.txt b/PI_907.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..989c97d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_907.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+presiding faculty is eminent in the sublimity and spirit of his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_908.txt b/PI_908.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97d9185
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_908.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+thoughts. Longinus has given his opinion, that it was in this part
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_909.txt b/PI_909.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9a4a73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_909.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Homer principally excelled. What were alone sufficient to prove the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_91.txt b/PI_91.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..331ecc6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_91.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+committed their compositions to writing, or at what time the practice
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_910.txt b/PI_910.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..06c8ba2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_910.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+grandeur and excellence of his sentiments in general, is, that they
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_911.txt b/PI_911.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e76468
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_911.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+have so remarkable a parity with those of the Scripture. Duport, in his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_912.txt b/PI_912.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..054ace6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_912.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Gnomologia Homerica, has collected innumerable instances of this sort.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_913.txt b/PI_913.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..264b2c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_913.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+And it is with justice an excellent modern writer allows, that if
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_914.txt b/PI_914.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1aa9b28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_914.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Virgil has not so many thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_915.txt b/PI_915.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a76b297
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_915.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+many that are sublime and noble; and that the Roman author seldom rises
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_916.txt b/PI_916.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7d0d46
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_916.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+into very astonishing sentiments where he is not fired by the Iliad.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_917.txt b/PI_917.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_918.txt b/PI_918.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_919.txt b/PI_919.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f8f8fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_919.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+If we observe his descriptions, images, and similes, we shall find the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_92.txt b/PI_92.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca5bfec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_92.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground which authorizes
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_920.txt b/PI_920.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c183ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_920.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_921.txt b/PI_921.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be6dedf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_921.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+comprehension of images of every sort, where we see each circumstance
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_922.txt b/PI_922.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2854fe1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_922.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+of art, and individual of nature, summoned together by the extent and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_923.txt b/PI_923.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..384dd3e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_923.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+fecundity of his imagination to which all things, in their various
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_924.txt b/PI_924.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2e4cf7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_924.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+views presented themselves in an instant, and had their impressions
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_925.txt b/PI_925.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..597b9a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_925.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+taken off to perfection at a heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_926.txt b/PI_926.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b131a89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_926.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+prospects of things, but several unexpected peculiarities and side
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_927.txt b/PI_927.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..977cb6c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_927.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+views, unobserved by any painter but Homer. Nothing is so surprising as
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_928.txt b/PI_928.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0400447
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_928.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the descriptions of his battles, which take up no less than half the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_929.txt b/PI_929.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4eaaa20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_929.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Iliad, and are supplied with so vast a variety of incidents, that no
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_93.txt b/PI_93.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ba6762
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_93.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in the famous
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_930.txt b/PI_930.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..600de41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_930.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+one bears a likeness to another; such different kinds of deaths, that
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_931.txt b/PI_931.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f11b89d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_931.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+no two heroes are wounded in the same manner, and such a profusion of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_932.txt b/PI_932.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2b8e13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_932.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+noble ideas, that every battle rises above the last in greatness,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_933.txt b/PI_933.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12e692b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_933.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+horror, and confusion. It is certain there is not near that number of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_934.txt b/PI_934.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2821b7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_934.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+images and descriptions in any epic poet, though every one has assisted
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_935.txt b/PI_935.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be9cbe0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_935.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+himself with a great quantity out of him; and it is evident of Virgil
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_936.txt b/PI_936.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5d5b6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_936.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+especially, that he has scarce any comparisons which are not drawn from
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_937.txt b/PI_937.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81adabd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_937.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his master.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_938.txt b/PI_938.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_939.txt b/PI_939.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_94.txt b/PI_94.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e16400
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_94.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+ordinance of Solôn, with regard to the rhapsodies at the Panathenæa:
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_940.txt b/PI_940.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..36e6c0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_940.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+If we descend from hence to the expression, we see the bright
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_941.txt b/PI_941.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..73922c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_941.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+imagination of Homer shining out in the most enlivened forms of it. We
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_942.txt b/PI_942.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0039abc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_942.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+acknowledge him the father of poetical diction; the first who taught
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_943.txt b/PI_943.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..938a834
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_943.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+that “language of the gods” to men. His expression is like the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_944.txt b/PI_944.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..27d5c40
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_944.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+colouring of some great masters, which discovers itself to be laid on
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_945.txt b/PI_945.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb2b3a6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_945.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+boldly, and executed with rapidity. It is, indeed, the strongest and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_946.txt b/PI_946.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45a4b24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_946.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+most glowing imaginable, and touched with the greatest spirit.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_947.txt b/PI_947.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c02b294
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_947.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Aristotle had reason to say, he was the only poet who had found out
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_948.txt b/PI_948.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..21ac5bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_948.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“living words;” there are in him more daring figures and metaphors than
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_949.txt b/PI_949.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7622d0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_949.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+in any good author whatever. An arrow is “impatient” to be on the wing,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_95.txt b/PI_95.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cc5c73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_95.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we are
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_950.txt b/PI_950.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34a40a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_950.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a weapon “thirsts” to drink the blood of an enemy, and the like, yet
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_951.txt b/PI_951.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0afa25e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_951.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his expression is never too big for the sense, but justly great in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_952.txt b/PI_952.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7417835
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_952.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+proportion to it. It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_953.txt b/PI_953.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..261aea9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_953.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it, for in the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_954.txt b/PI_954.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e880d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_954.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+same degree that a thought is warmer, an expression will be brighter,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_955.txt b/PI_955.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f9ec5b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_955.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+as that is more strong, this will become more perspicuous; like glass
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_956.txt b/PI_956.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..638205e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_956.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, and refines to a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_957.txt b/PI_957.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16acba4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_957.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+greater clearness, only as the breath within is more powerful, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_958.txt b/PI_958.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ad7bca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_958.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+heat more intense.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_959.txt b/PI_959.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_96.txt b/PI_96.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..982ff29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_96.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+unable to say.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_960.txt b/PI_960.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_961.txt b/PI_961.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f0889d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_961.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+To throw his language more out of prose, Homer seems to have affected
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_962.txt b/PI_962.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30e546f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_962.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the compound epithets. This was a sort of composition peculiarly proper
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_963.txt b/PI_963.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5131dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_963.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+to poetry, not only as it heightened the diction, but as it assisted
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_964.txt b/PI_964.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0492023
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_964.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and filled the numbers with greater sound and pomp, and likewise
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_965.txt b/PI_965.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bce9c72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_965.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+conduced in some measure to thicken the images. On this last
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_966.txt b/PI_966.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..18fe53d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_966.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+consideration I cannot but attribute these also to the fruitfulness of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_967.txt b/PI_967.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a8321ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_967.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+his invention, since (as he has managed them) they are a sort of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_968.txt b/PI_968.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f49eae0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_968.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+supernumerary pictures of the persons or things to which they were
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_969.txt b/PI_969.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1bcf3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_969.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+joined. We see the motion of Hector’s plumes in the epithet
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_97.txt b/PI_97.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_970.txt b/PI_970.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38ef8fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_970.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Κορυθαίολος, the landscape of Mount Neritus in that of Εἰνοσίφυλλος,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_971.txt b/PI_971.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e82b150
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_971.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+and so of others, which particular images could not have been insisted
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_972.txt b/PI_972.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d55eb99
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_972.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+upon so long as to express them in a description (though but of a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_973.txt b/PI_973.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0879ffd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_973.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+single line) without diverting the reader too much from the principal
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_974.txt b/PI_974.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1e9440
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_974.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+action or figure. As a metaphor is a short simile, one of these
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_975.txt b/PI_975.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e488e0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_975.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+epithets is a short description.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_976.txt b/PI_976.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_977.txt b/PI_977.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e69de29
diff --git a/PI_978.txt b/PI_978.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3ea2586
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_978.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Lastly, if we consider his versification, we shall be sensible what a
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_979.txt b/PI_979.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..412fde5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_979.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+share of praise is due to his invention in that also. He was not
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_98.txt b/PI_98.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..09e503c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_98.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+“Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_980.txt b/PI_980.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..801b819
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_980.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+satisfied with his language as he found it settled in any one part of
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_981.txt b/PI_981.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1d6f65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_981.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+Greece, but searched through its different dialects with this
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_982.txt b/PI_982.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a8c7c66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_982.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+particular view, to beautify and perfect his numbers he considered
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_983.txt b/PI_983.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dadc942
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_983.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+these as they had a greater mixture of vowels or consonants, and
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_984.txt b/PI_984.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d331780
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_984.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+accordingly employed them as the verse required either a greater
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_985.txt b/PI_985.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47d227b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_985.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+smoothness or strength. What he most affected was the Ionic, which has
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_986.txt b/PI_986.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d545441
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_986.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+a peculiar sweetness, from its never using contractions, and from its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_987.txt b/PI_987.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..220b307
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_987.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+custom of resolving the diphthongs into two syllables, so as to make
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_988.txt b/PI_988.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..03b27fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_988.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous fluency.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_989.txt b/PI_989.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8410aea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_989.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+With this he mingled the Attic contractions, the broader Doric, and the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_99.txt b/PI_99.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c57d17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_99.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_990.txt b/PI_990.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b758c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_990.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+feebler Æolic, which often rejects its aspirate, or takes off its
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_991.txt b/PI_991.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3029cf0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_991.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+accent, and completed this variety by altering some letters with the
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_992.txt b/PI_992.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fabe1cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_992.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+licence of poetry. Thus his measures, instead of being fetters to his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_993.txt b/PI_993.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cea68f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_993.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+sense, were always in readiness to run along with the warmth of his
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_994.txt b/PI_994.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55935f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_994.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+rapture, and even to give a further representation of his notions, in
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_995.txt b/PI_995.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..82d34a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_995.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+the correspondence of their sounds to what they signified. Out of all
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_996.txt b/PI_996.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2670e20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_996.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+these he has derived that harmony which makes us confess he had not
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_997.txt b/PI_997.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..552b752
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_997.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+only the richest head, but the finest ear in the world. This is so
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_998.txt b/PI_998.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1add45
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_998.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+great a truth, that whoever will but consult the tune of his verses,
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_999.txt b/PI_999.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5df474e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_999.txt
@@ -0,0 +1 @@
+even without understanding them (with the same sort of diligence as we
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/PI_lines.txt b/PI_lines.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0a95b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/PI_lines.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
+Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
+Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right.
+At thy demand shall I restore the maid?
+First let the just equivalent be paid;
+Such as a king might ask; and let it be
+A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/file-io.ipynb b/file-io.ipynb
index 5560737..0f1fef3 100644
--- a/file-io.ipynb
+++ b/file-io.ipynb
@@ -10,7 +10,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 1,
+   "execution_count": 4,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [
     {
@@ -27,7 +27,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 2,
+   "execution_count": 5,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [],
    "source": [
@@ -55,7 +55,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": null,
+   "execution_count": 6,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [],
    "source": [
@@ -70,7 +70,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 8,
+   "execution_count": 7,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [
     {
@@ -99,7 +99,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 21,
+   "execution_count": 8,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [],
    "source": [
@@ -108,7 +108,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 22,
+   "execution_count": 9,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [],
    "source": [
@@ -119,20 +119,9 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": null,
+   "execution_count": 10,
    "metadata": {},
-   "outputs": [
-    {
-     "data": {
-      "text/plain": [
-       "<generator object Path.glob at 0x71ead4273450>"
-      ]
-     },
-     "execution_count": 33,
-     "metadata": {},
-     "output_type": "execute_result"
-    }
-   ],
+   "outputs": [],
    "source": [
     "from pathlib import Path\n",
     "\n",
@@ -146,7 +135,7 @@
   },
   {
    "cell_type": "code",
-   "execution_count": 50,
+   "execution_count": 11,
    "metadata": {},
    "outputs": [],
    "source": [
@@ -155,6 +144,1125 @@
     "        with open(iliad_file, \"r\") as f:\n",
     "            a.write(f.read() + \"\\n\")\n"
    ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 14,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "PI_lines = \"\"\"Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the question of\n",
+    "this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I must\n",
+    "express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following\n",
+    "remarks:—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the\n",
+    "better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its\n",
+    "original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that\n",
+    "its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to\n",
+    "assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not\n",
+    "the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive\n",
+    "conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite anatomist may be\n",
+    "no judge of the symmetry of the human frame: and we would take the\n",
+    "opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty\n",
+    "of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines\n",
+    "of Pope.—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit\n",
+    "Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit,\n",
+    "How parts relate to parts, or they to whole,\n",
+    "The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,\n",
+    "Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,\n",
+    "When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”[19]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning\n",
+    "the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and\n",
+    "cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo,[20]\n",
+    "the authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern\n",
+    "critics. Longinus, in an oft quoted passage, merely expressed an\n",
+    "opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the\n",
+    "Iliad,[21] and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names[22]\n",
+    "it would be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal\n",
+    "non-existence of Homer ever arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems\n",
+    "to be in favour of our early ideas on the subject; let us now see what\n",
+    "are the discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on\n",
+    "the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that “Homer wrote a sequel\n",
+    "of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and\n",
+    "good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs\n",
+    "were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till about\n",
+    "Peisistratus’ time, about five hundred years after.”[23]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Two French writers—Hedelin and Perrault—avowed a similar scepticism on\n",
+    "the subject; but it is in the “Scienza Nuova” of Battista Vico, that we\n",
+    "first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf\n",
+    "with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian\n",
+    "theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold\n",
+    "hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:—[24]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,\n",
+    "turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently\n",
+    "published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of\n",
+    "the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by\n",
+    "no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously\n",
+    "announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent\n",
+    "portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been cemented together into\n",
+    "any compact body and unchangeable order, until the days of\n",
+    "Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a step towards\n",
+    "that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies of either poem\n",
+    "could be shown to have existed during the earlier times, to which their\n",
+    "composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the perfect\n",
+    "symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived\n",
+    "by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to\n",
+    "posterity. The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be\n",
+    "indispensably supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks,\n",
+    "was thus one of the points in Wolf’s case against the primitive\n",
+    "integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading\n",
+    "opponents of Wolf, the connection of the one with the other seems to\n",
+    "have been accepted as he originally put it; and it has been considered\n",
+    "incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate character of the\n",
+    "Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems from the\n",
+    "beginning.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to\n",
+    "Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are\n",
+    "nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that\n",
+    "view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in order to\n",
+    "controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting long\n",
+    "written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian æra. Few\n",
+    "things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne Knight,\n",
+    "opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less than\n",
+    "Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh\n",
+    "century before the Christian æra, are exceedingly trifling. We have no\n",
+    "remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early\n",
+    "inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure\n",
+    "ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonidês of Amorgus, Kallinus,\n",
+    "Tyrtæus, Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric poets,\n",
+    "committed their compositions to writing, or at what time the practice\n",
+    "of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground which authorizes\n",
+    "us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in the famous\n",
+    "ordinance of Solôn, with regard to the rhapsodies at the Panathenæa:\n",
+    "but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we are\n",
+    "unable to say.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the\n",
+    "beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the\n",
+    "existing habits of society with regard to poetry—for they admit\n",
+    "generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and\n",
+    "heard,—but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been\n",
+    "manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems—the unassisted\n",
+    "memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here\n",
+    "we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the\n",
+    "existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory,[25] is\n",
+    "far less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age\n",
+    "essentially non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable\n",
+    "instruments and materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover,\n",
+    "there is a strong positive reason for believing that the bard was under\n",
+    "no necessity of refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for\n",
+    "if such had been the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification\n",
+    "for the profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the\n",
+    "example of Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of\n",
+    "Chios, in the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as\n",
+    "the general tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The\n",
+    "author of that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a\n",
+    "blind man as attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been\n",
+    "conscious that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant\n",
+    "reference to the manuscript in his chest.”\n",
+    "\n",
+    "The loss of the digamma, that _crux_ of critics, that quicksand upon\n",
+    "which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond\n",
+    "a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a\n",
+    "considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the\n",
+    "Homeric poems could have suffered by this change, had written copies\n",
+    "been preserved. If Chaucer’s poetry, for instance, had not been\n",
+    "written, it could only have come down to us in a softened form, more\n",
+    "like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough, quaint, noble\n",
+    "original.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“At what period,” continues Grote, “these poems, or indeed any other\n",
+    "Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,\n",
+    "though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of\n",
+    "Solôn. If, in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any\n",
+    "more determinate period, the question at once suggests itself, What\n",
+    "were the purposes which, in that state of society, a manuscript at its\n",
+    "first commencement must have been intended to answer? For whom was a\n",
+    "written Iliad necessary? Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was\n",
+    "not only planted in the memory, but also interwoven with the feelings,\n",
+    "and conceived in conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of\n",
+    "voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were required for\n",
+    "emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never\n",
+    "reproduce. Not for the general public—they were accustomed to receive\n",
+    "it with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn\n",
+    "and crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would\n",
+    "be suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of\n",
+    "readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had\n",
+    "experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the\n",
+    "written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of the\n",
+    "impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the statement may\n",
+    "seem in an age like the present, there is in all early societies, and\n",
+    "there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading class existed.\n",
+    "If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be\n",
+    "formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic\n",
+    "poems were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with\n",
+    "the greatest probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the\n",
+    "formation even of the narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle\n",
+    "of the seventh century before the Christian æra (B.C. 660 to B.C.\n",
+    "630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus, Archilochus, Simonidês of\n",
+    "Amorgus, &c. I ground this supposition on the change then operated in\n",
+    "the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and music—the elegiac\n",
+    "and the iambic measures having been introduced as rivals to the\n",
+    "primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been transferred\n",
+    "from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a\n",
+    "change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of\n",
+    "publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the\n",
+    "nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at\n",
+    "the old epical treasures of the people as well as a thirst for new\n",
+    "poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it, may well be\n",
+    "considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from their\n",
+    "own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric\n",
+    "rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and\n",
+    "eulogized the Thebaïs as the production of Homer. There seems,\n",
+    "therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this\n",
+    "newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of the\n",
+    "Homeric poems and other old epics,—the Thebaïs and the Cypria, as well\n",
+    "as the Iliad and the Odyssey,—began to be compiled towards the middle\n",
+    "of the seventh century (B.C. 1); and the opening of Egypt to Grecian\n",
+    "commerce, which took place about the same period, would furnish\n",
+    "increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to write upon.\n",
+    "A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly increase, and\n",
+    "the number of manuscripts along with it; so that before the time of\n",
+    "Solôn, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though\n",
+    "still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized\n",
+    "authority, and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness\n",
+    "of individual rhapsodes.”[26]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of\n",
+    "the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following\n",
+    "observations—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,\n",
+    "throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid\n",
+    "compilation, at least over the theory, that the Iliad was cast into its\n",
+    "present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the Athenian\n",
+    "ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright period of\n",
+    "Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more than the\n",
+    "fame, and the faint echo, if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and Simonidês were\n",
+    "employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and Odyssey, so much\n",
+    "must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize, that it is\n",
+    "almost incredible, that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should\n",
+    "not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies\n",
+    "which no doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the\n",
+    "Homeric age, however the irregular use of the digamma may have\n",
+    "perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name of Helen is said to have\n",
+    "caused as much disquiet and distress as the fair one herself among the\n",
+    "heroes of her age, however Mr. Knight may have failed in reducing the\n",
+    "Homeric language to its primitive form; however, finally, the Attic\n",
+    "dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and distinguishing\n",
+    "characteristics—still it is difficult to suppose that the language,\n",
+    "particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,\n",
+    "should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient\n",
+    "and modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such\n",
+    "a period to imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an\n",
+    "imperfect poem in the character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott\n",
+    "has done in his continuation of Sir Tristram.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian\n",
+    "compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total\n",
+    "absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of\n",
+    "observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times,\n",
+    "the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of their\n",
+    "ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early Greece\n",
+    "embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate and\n",
+    "insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their\n",
+    "ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,\n",
+    "indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic\n",
+    "fact, that in the great maritime expedition of western Greece against\n",
+    "the rival and half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadæ, the chieftain\n",
+    "of Thessaly, from his valour and the number of his forces, may have\n",
+    "been the most important ally of the Peloponnesian sovereign; the\n",
+    "preeminent value of the ancient poetry on the Trojan war may thus have\n",
+    "forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield to their taste.\n",
+    "The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no doubt, of\n",
+    "far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid\n",
+    "would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian\n",
+    "synod of compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Olysseid.\n",
+    "Could France have given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the\n",
+    "hero of the Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are\n",
+    "sometimes called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its\n",
+    "direful consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic\n",
+    "cycle, as to admit no rivalry,—it is still surprising, that throughout\n",
+    "the whole poem the callida junctura should never betray the workmanship\n",
+    "of an Athenian hand, and that the national spirit of a race, who have\n",
+    "at a later period not inaptly been compared to our self admiring\n",
+    "neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self denial to the\n",
+    "almost total exclusion of their own ancestors—or, at least, to the\n",
+    "questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled\n",
+    "in the military tactics of his age.”[27]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that\n",
+    "Wolf’s objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey\n",
+    "have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they\n",
+    "have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the\n",
+    "difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather\n",
+    "augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is\n",
+    "Lachmann’s[28] modification of his theory any better. He divides the\n",
+    "first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and\n",
+    "treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one\n",
+    "regular poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus.\n",
+    "This, as Grote observes, “explains the gaps and contradictions in the\n",
+    "narrative, but it explains nothing else.” Moreover, we find no\n",
+    "contradictions warranting this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets\n",
+    "concur in getting rid of the following leading men in the first battle\n",
+    "after the secession of Achilles: Elphenor, chief of the Eubœans;\n",
+    "Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odius, of the\n",
+    "Halizonians; Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes\n",
+    "again make their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure,\n",
+    "that “it seems strange that any number of independent poets should have\n",
+    "so harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel.”\n",
+    "The discrepancy, by which Pylæmenes, who is represented as dead in the\n",
+    "fifth book, weeps at his son’s funeral in the thirteenth, can only be\n",
+    "regarded as the result of an interpolation.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the\n",
+    "subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian\n",
+    "theory, and of Lachmann’s modifications with the character of\n",
+    "Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,\n",
+    "that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these poems,\n",
+    "or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by\n",
+    "Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In\n",
+    "short, “a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of\n",
+    "pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as the\n",
+    "period of its first compilation.” The friends or literary _employês_ of\n",
+    "Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already ancient, and the\n",
+    "silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic\n",
+    "“recension,” goes far to prove, that, among the numerous manuscripts\n",
+    "they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of\n",
+    "attention.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“Moreover,” he continues, “the whole tenor of the poems themselves\n",
+    "confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad\n",
+    "or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age\n",
+    "of Peisistratus—nothing which brings to our view the alterations\n",
+    "brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined\n",
+    "money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and republican\n",
+    "governments, the close military array, the improved construction of\n",
+    "ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual frequentation of\n",
+    "religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins of religion, &c.,\n",
+    "familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations Onomakritus, and the\n",
+    "other literary friends of Peisistratus, could hardly have failed to\n",
+    "notice, even without design, had they then, for the first time,\n",
+    "undertaken the task of piecing together many self existent epics into\n",
+    "one large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in\n",
+    "substance and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries\n",
+    "earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those\n",
+    "passages which, on the best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray\n",
+    "no trace of the sixth century before Christ, and may well have been\n",
+    "heard by Archilochus and Kallinus—in some cases even by Arktinus and\n",
+    "Hesiod—as genuine Homeric matter.[29] As far as the evidences on the\n",
+    "case, as well internal as external, enable us to judge, we seem\n",
+    "warranted in believing that the Iliad and Odyssey were recited\n",
+    "substantially as they now stand (always allowing for partial\n",
+    "divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first\n",
+    "trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it be\n",
+    "added, as it is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most\n",
+    "important attribute of the Homeric poems, considered in reference to\n",
+    "Grecian history; for they thus afford us an insight into the\n",
+    "anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling us to trace the\n",
+    "subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize instructive\n",
+    "contrasts between their former and their later condition.”[30]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of\n",
+    "Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although, I must\n",
+    "confess, that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his\n",
+    "labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition\n",
+    "or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the\n",
+    "work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and\n",
+    "elegant mind of that Athenian[31] would lead him to preserve an ancient\n",
+    "and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and\n",
+    "re-construct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat\n",
+    "the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written or not,\n",
+    "or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their reputed\n",
+    "author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less satisfied we\n",
+    "are upon either subject.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the\n",
+    "preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version\n",
+    "of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical\n",
+    "probability must be measured by that of many others relating to the\n",
+    "Spartan Confucius.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories, with an attempt,\n",
+    "made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like\n",
+    "consistency. It is as follows:—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors\n",
+    "of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to ‘discourse in excellent\n",
+    "music’ among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the\n",
+    "United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing\n",
+    "around them. But what was passing around them? The grand events of a\n",
+    "spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the\n",
+    "mystical legends of former times had done, upon their memory; besides\n",
+    "which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue of the first water, and\n",
+    "was cultivated accordingly in those ancient times. Ballads at first,\n",
+    "and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were merely\n",
+    "recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,\n",
+    "probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the\n",
+    "memory considerably.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a\n",
+    "poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Mœonides, but most\n",
+    "probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great\n",
+    "utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of\n",
+    "Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays, connecting them\n",
+    "by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the\n",
+    "‘Odyssea.’ The author, however, did not affix his own name to the poem,\n",
+    "which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the archaic\n",
+    "dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by him. He\n",
+    "therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is\n",
+    "rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging\n",
+    "arrangement of other people’s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,\n",
+    "arguing for the unity of authorship, ‘a great poet might have re-cast\n",
+    "pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere\n",
+    "arrangers or compilers would be competent to do so.’\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,\n",
+    "recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized\n",
+    "the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleïs[32] grew under\n",
+    "his hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the poem\n",
+    "under the same pseudonyme as his former work: and the disjointed lays\n",
+    "of the ancient bards were joined together, like those relating to the\n",
+    "Cid, into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes knew that\n",
+    "the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has proved; but,\n",
+    "first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes and\n",
+    "corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,\n",
+    "assemblies, and agoras. However, Solôn first, and then Peisistratus,\n",
+    "and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored\n",
+    "the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great\n",
+    "measure.”[33]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which\n",
+    "have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I\n",
+    "must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of\n",
+    "the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations\n",
+    "disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may here\n",
+    "and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the negligence of\n",
+    "the copyist, would be an absurd and captious assumption, but it is to a\n",
+    "higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would either understand or\n",
+    "enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and personality of\n",
+    "their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, _quocunque nomine vocari\n",
+    "eum jus fasque sit_, I feel conscious that, while the whole weight of\n",
+    "historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign these\n",
+    "great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal\n",
+    "evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate\n",
+    "impulse of the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "The minutiæ of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.\n",
+    "Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an\n",
+    "attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its\n",
+    "importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store on\n",
+    "its æsthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the\n",
+    "emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had\n",
+    "they been suggested to the author by his Mæcenas or Africanus, he\n",
+    "would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in\n",
+    "laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often\n",
+    "least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not\n",
+    "poets by profession, but may be so _per accidens_. I do not at this\n",
+    "moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially\n",
+    "improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from\n",
+    "Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand minute\n",
+    "points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and jejune.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will\n",
+    "exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an\n",
+    "heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously\n",
+    "dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the\n",
+    "pruning knife by wholesale, and inconsistent in everything but their\n",
+    "wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation, they cut out book\n",
+    "after book, passage after passage, till the author is reduced to a\n",
+    "collection of fragments, or till those, who fancied they possessed the\n",
+    "works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a vile\n",
+    "counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of\n",
+    "Knight, Wolf, Lachmann, and others, we shall feel better satisfied of\n",
+    "the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of\n",
+    "Homer. One rejects what another considers the turning-point of his\n",
+    "theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging what another would\n",
+    "explain by omitting something else.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon\n",
+    "as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill,\n",
+    "seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies\n",
+    "attributed to Seneca are by _four_ different authors.[34] Now, I will\n",
+    "venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in\n",
+    "their borrowed phraseology—a phraseology with which writers like\n",
+    "Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves—in their\n",
+    "freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an ultra-refined\n",
+    "and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few writers of the\n",
+    "present day would question the capabilities of the same gentleman, be\n",
+    "he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many more\n",
+    "equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world\n",
+    "with the startling announcement that the Æneid of Virgil, and the\n",
+    "satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to\n",
+    "say one word of disrespect against the industry and learning—nay, the\n",
+    "refined acuteness—which scholars, like Wolf, have bestowed upon this\n",
+    "subject, I must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric\n",
+    "theories will become matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather\n",
+    "than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can I help thinking, that the\n",
+    "literary history of more recent times will account for many points of\n",
+    "difficulty in the transmission of the Iliad and Odyssey to a period so\n",
+    "remote from that of their first creation.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus\n",
+    "were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason\n",
+    "why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in\n",
+    "his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should\n",
+    "have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after\n",
+    "all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that they demand\n",
+    "too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry most powerfully\n",
+    "appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The ingenuity which has\n",
+    "sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does too much\n",
+    "violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with\n",
+    "love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author\n",
+    "of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human\n",
+    "invention; to elevate analytical judgment at the expense of the most\n",
+    "ennobling impulses of the soul; and to forget the ocean in the\n",
+    "contemplation of a polypus. There is a catholicity, so to speak, in the\n",
+    "very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of the Iliad may be a\n",
+    "mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature\n",
+    "herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in\n",
+    "believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers\n",
+    "round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from that wealth\n",
+    "of imagination which a host of imitators could not exhaust,—still I am\n",
+    "far from wishing to deny that the author of these great poems found a\n",
+    "rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked mythical storehouse from whence\n",
+    "he might derive both subject and embellishment. But it is one thing to\n",
+    "_use_ existing romances in the embellishment of a poem, another to\n",
+    "patch up the poem itself from such materials. What consistency of style\n",
+    "and execution can be hoped for from such an attempt? or, rather, what\n",
+    "bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible result?\n",
+    "\n",
+    "A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other\n",
+    "bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In\n",
+    "fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward\n",
+    "impressions—nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents\n",
+    "which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless there be\n",
+    "some grand pervading principle—some invisible, yet most distinctly\n",
+    "stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the Iliad can never\n",
+    "come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque, episodes the most\n",
+    "pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of gods and\n",
+    "great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in more\n",
+    "substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to\n",
+    "create a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and\n",
+    "embellishments, be present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a\n",
+    "parterre filled with flowers and weeds strangling each other in their\n",
+    "wild redundancy: we shall have a cento of rags and tatters, which will\n",
+    "require little acuteness to detect.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware\n",
+    "as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief,\n",
+    "it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved\n",
+    "for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are not by nature\n",
+    "intended to know all things; still less, to compass the powers by which\n",
+    "the greatest blessings of life have been placed at our disposal. Were\n",
+    "faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why God willed our\n",
+    "ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the contrary\n",
+    "lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried\n",
+    "touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon\n",
+    "the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached\n",
+    "to the memory of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse\n",
+    "the scepticism which would allegorize their existence into a pleasing\n",
+    "apologue, and measure the giants of intellect by an homeopathic\n",
+    "dynameter.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts\n",
+    "even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and\n",
+    "with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply\n",
+    "wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the minute spots\n",
+    "which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic poem we must\n",
+    "transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we in imagination\n",
+    "must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves, burn with the\n",
+    "same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can but\n",
+    "attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely\n",
+    "suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of\n",
+    "Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer\n",
+    "that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of song.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems\n",
+    "their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who\n",
+    "is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely\n",
+    "observes:—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has\n",
+    "ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen.\n",
+    "Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other\n",
+    "nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is\n",
+    "a feature in their character which was not wholly erased even in the\n",
+    "period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and sages appeared in\n",
+    "Greece, the work of the poet had already been accomplished; and they\n",
+    "paid homage to his superior genius. He held up before his nation the\n",
+    "mirror, in which they were to behold the world of gods and heroes no\n",
+    "less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with purity\n",
+    "and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;\n",
+    "on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which\n",
+    "outweighs all others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth\n",
+    "from a breast which sympathized with all the feelings of man; and\n",
+    "therefore they enter, and will continue to enter, every breast which\n",
+    "cherishes the same sympathies. If it is granted to his immortal spirit,\n",
+    "from another heaven than any of which he dreamed on earth, to look down\n",
+    "on his race, to see the nations from the fields of Asia to the forests\n",
+    "of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic\n",
+    "wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast\n",
+    "assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had\n",
+    "been called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal\n",
+    "spirit may reside, this alone would suffice to complete his\n",
+    "happiness.”[35]\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the “Apotheosis of\n",
+    "Homer”[36] is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing\n",
+    "association, how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to\n",
+    "our minds, is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old\n",
+    "tradition? The more we read, and the more we think—think as becomes the\n",
+    "readers of Homer,—the more rooted becomes the conviction that the\n",
+    "Father of Poetry gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire.\n",
+    "Whatever were the means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful\n",
+    "for the treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than\n",
+    "seek to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of\n",
+    "theories, whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with\n",
+    "each other.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not\n",
+    "included in Pope’s translation, I will content myself with a brief\n",
+    "account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer\n",
+    "who has done it full justice[37]:—\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“This poem,” says Coleridge, “is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.\n",
+    "The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and\n",
+    "corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile\n",
+    "essay of Homer’s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees,\n",
+    "mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited\n",
+    "the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was\n",
+    "uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies,\n",
+    "know or care about that department of criticism employed in determining\n",
+    "the genuineness of ancient writings. As to this little poem being a\n",
+    "youthful profusion of Homer, it seems sufficient to say that from the\n",
+    "beginning to the end it is a plain and palpable parody, not only of the\n",
+    "general spirit, but of the numerous passages of the Iliad itself; and\n",
+    "even, if no such intention to parody were discernible in it, the\n",
+    "objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque\n",
+    "to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse\n",
+    "that order in the development of national taste, which the history of\n",
+    "every other people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost\n",
+    "ascertained to be a law of the human mind; it is in a state of society\n",
+    "much more refined and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that\n",
+    "any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is\n",
+    "contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed three\n",
+    "other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as\n",
+    "much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of\n",
+    "them were of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word\n",
+    "deltos, “writing tablet,” instead of διφθέρα, “skin,” which, according\n",
+    "to Herod. 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for\n",
+    "that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity;\n",
+    "and generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a\n",
+    "strong argument against so ancient a date for its composition.”\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope’s\n",
+    "design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,\n",
+    "and on my own purpose in the present edition.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his\n",
+    "earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby.\n",
+    "It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a\n",
+    "disposition to be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive\n",
+    "deeply into the minute and delicate features of language. Hence his\n",
+    "whole work is to be looked upon rather as an elegant paraphrase than a\n",
+    "translation. There are, to be sure, certain conventional anecdotes,\n",
+    "which prove that Pope consulted various friends, whose classical\n",
+    "attainments were sounder than his own, during the undertaking; but it\n",
+    "is probable that these examinations were the result rather of the\n",
+    "contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a\n",
+    "perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called\n",
+    "literal translation was less cultivated than at present. If something\n",
+    "like the general sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of\n",
+    "a practised poet; if the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing\n",
+    "fluency could be made consistent with a fair interpretation of the\n",
+    "poet’s meaning, his _words_ were less jealously sought for, and those\n",
+    "who could read so good a poem as Pope’s Iliad had fair reason to be\n",
+    "satisfied.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope’s translation by our own\n",
+    "advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at\n",
+    "it as a most delightful work in itself,—a work which is as much a part\n",
+    "of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn\n",
+    "from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most\n",
+    "cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize, merely because\n",
+    "Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more accurate as to\n",
+    "ἀμφικύπελλον being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from\n",
+    "us to defend the faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman’s\n",
+    "fine, bold, rough old English;—far be it from us to hold up his\n",
+    "translation as what a translation of Homer _might_ be. But we can still\n",
+    "dismiss Pope’s Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the\n",
+    "consciousness that they must have read a very great number of books\n",
+    "before they have read its fellow.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "As to the Notes accompanying the present volume, they are drawn up\n",
+    "without pretension, and mainly with the view of helping the general\n",
+    "reader. Having some little time since translated all the works of Homer\n",
+    "for another publisher, I might have brought a large amount of\n",
+    "accumulated matter, sometimes of a critical character, to bear upon the\n",
+    "text. But Pope’s version was no field for such a display; and my\n",
+    "purpose was to touch briefly on antiquarian or mythological allusions,\n",
+    "to notice occasionally _some_ departures from the original, and to give\n",
+    "a few parallel passages from our English Homer, Milton. In the latter\n",
+    "task I cannot pretend to novelty, but I trust that my other\n",
+    "annotations, while utterly disclaiming high scholastic views, will be\n",
+    "found to convey as much as is wanted; at least, as far as the necessary\n",
+    "limits of these volumes could be expected to admit. To write a\n",
+    "commentary on Homer is not my present aim; but if I have made Pope’s\n",
+    "translation a little more entertaining and instructive to a mass of\n",
+    "miscellaneous readers, I shall consider my wishes satisfactorily\n",
+    "accomplished.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "_Christ Church_.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "POPE’S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD OF HOMER\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest invention of any\n",
+    "writer whatever. The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested\n",
+    "with him, and others may have their pretensions as to particular\n",
+    "excellences; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a\n",
+    "wonder if he has ever been acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most\n",
+    "excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetry. It is the\n",
+    "invention that, in different degrees, distinguishes all great geniuses:\n",
+    "the utmost stretch of human study, learning, and industry, which\n",
+    "masters everything besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes art\n",
+    "with all her materials, and without it judgment itself can at best but\n",
+    "“steal wisely:” for art is only like a prudent steward that lives on\n",
+    "managing the riches of nature. Whatever praises may be given to works\n",
+    "of judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them to which the\n",
+    "invention must not contribute: as in the most regular gardens, art can\n",
+    "only reduce beauties of nature to more regularity, and such a figure,\n",
+    "which the common eye may better take in, and is, therefore, more\n",
+    "entertained with. And, perhaps, the reason why common critics are\n",
+    "inclined to prefer a judicious and methodical genius to a great and\n",
+    "fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue\n",
+    "their observations through a uniform and bounded walk of art, than to\n",
+    "comprehend the vast and various extent of nature.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Our author’s work is a wild paradise, where, if we cannot see all the\n",
+    "beauties so distinctly as in an ordered garden, it is only because the\n",
+    "number of them is infinitely greater. It is like a copious nursery,\n",
+    "which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of\n",
+    "which those who followed him have but selected some particular plants,\n",
+    "each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things\n",
+    "are too luxuriant it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if\n",
+    "others are not arrived to perfection or maturity, it is only because\n",
+    "they are overrun and oppressed by those of a stronger nature.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute\n",
+    "that unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no\n",
+    "man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him.\n",
+    "What he writes is of the most animated nature imaginable; every thing\n",
+    "moves, every thing lives, and is put in action. If a council be called,\n",
+    "or a battle fought, you are not coldly informed of what was said or\n",
+    "done as from a third person; the reader is hurried out of himself by\n",
+    "the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a\n",
+    "hearer, in another to a spectator. The course of his verses resembles\n",
+    "that of the army he describes,\n",
+    "\n",
+    "    Οἵδ’ ἄῤ ἴσαν, ὡσεί τε πυρὶ χθὼν πἆσα νέμοιτο.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "“They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it.” It\n",
+    "is, however, remarkable, that his fancy, which is everywhere vigorous,\n",
+    "is not discovered immediately at the beginning of his poem in its\n",
+    "fullest splendour: it grows in the progress both upon himself and\n",
+    "others, and becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity.\n",
+    "Exact disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers,\n",
+    "may have been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this “vivida\n",
+    "vis animi,” in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect\n",
+    "or neglected, this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even\n",
+    "while we disapprove. Nay, where this appears, though attended with\n",
+    "absurdities, it brightens all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing\n",
+    "but its own splendour. This fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned\n",
+    "as through a glass, reflected from Homer, more shining than fierce, but\n",
+    "everywhere equal and constant: in Lucan and Statius it bursts out in\n",
+    "sudden, short, and interrupted flashes: In Milton it glows like a\n",
+    "furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour by the force of art: in\n",
+    "Shakspeare it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental fire from\n",
+    "heaven: but in Homer, and in him only, it burns everywhere clearly and\n",
+    "everywhere irresistibly.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "I shall here endeavour to show how this vast invention exerts itself in\n",
+    "a manner superior to that of any poet through all the main constituent\n",
+    "parts of his work: as it is the great and peculiar characteristic which\n",
+    "distinguishes him from all other authors.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "This strong and ruling faculty was like a powerful star, which, in the\n",
+    "violence of its course, drew all things within its vortex. It seemed\n",
+    "not enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole\n",
+    "compass of nature, to supply his maxims and reflections; all the inward\n",
+    "passions and affections of mankind, to furnish his characters: and all\n",
+    "the outward forms and images of things for his descriptions: but\n",
+    "wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and\n",
+    "boundless walk for his imagination, and created a world for himself in\n",
+    "the invention of fable. That which Aristotle calls “the soul of\n",
+    "poetry,” was first breathed into it by Homer. I shall begin with\n",
+    "considering him in his part, as it is naturally the first; and I speak\n",
+    "of it both as it means the design of a poem, and as it is taken for\n",
+    "fiction.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Fable may be divided into the probable, the allegorical, and the\n",
+    "marvellous. The probable fable is the recital of such actions as,\n",
+    "though they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of nature;\n",
+    "or of such as, though they did, became fables by the additional\n",
+    "episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main story of\n",
+    "an epic poem, “The return of Ulysses, the settlement of the Trojans in\n",
+    "Italy,” or the like. That of the Iliad is the “anger of Achilles,” the\n",
+    "most short and single subject that ever was chosen by any poet. Yet\n",
+    "this he has supplied with a vaster variety of incidents and events, and\n",
+    "crowded with a greater number of councils, speeches, battles, and\n",
+    "episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those poems whose\n",
+    "schemes are of the utmost latitude and irregularity. The action is\n",
+    "hurried on with the most vehement spirit, and its whole duration\n",
+    "employs not so much as fifty days. Virgil, for want of so warm a\n",
+    "genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive subject, as well as\n",
+    "a greater length of time, and contracting the design of both Homer’s\n",
+    "poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The\n",
+    "other epic poets have used the same practice, but generally carried it\n",
+    "so far as to superinduce a multiplicity of fables, destroy the unity of\n",
+    "action, and lose their readers in an unreasonable length of time. Nor\n",
+    "is it only in the main design that they have been unable to add to his\n",
+    "invention, but they have followed him in every episode and part of\n",
+    "story. If he has given a regular catalogue of an army, they all draw up\n",
+    "their forces in the same order. If he has funeral games for Patroclus,\n",
+    "Virgil has the same for Anchises, and Statius (rather than omit them)\n",
+    "destroys the unity of his actions for those of Archemorus. If Ulysses\n",
+    "visit the shades, the Æneas of Virgil and Scipio of Silius are sent\n",
+    "after him. If he be detained from his return by the allurements of\n",
+    "Calypso, so is Æneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Armida. If Achilles be\n",
+    "absent from the army on the score of a quarrel through half the poem,\n",
+    "Rinaldo must absent himself just as long on the like account. If he\n",
+    "gives his hero a suit of celestial armour, Virgil and Tasso make the\n",
+    "same present to theirs. Virgil has not only observed this close\n",
+    "imitation of Homer, but, where he had not led the way, supplied the\n",
+    "want from other Greek authors. Thus the story of Sinon, and the taking\n",
+    "of Troy, was copied (says Macrobius) almost word for word from\n",
+    "Pisander, as the loves of Dido and Æneas are taken from those of Medea\n",
+    "and Jason in Apollonius, and several others in the same manner.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "To proceed to the allegorical fable—If we reflect upon those\n",
+    "innumerable knowledges, those secrets of nature and physical philosophy\n",
+    "which Homer is generally supposed to have wrapped up in his allegories,\n",
+    "what a new and ample scene of wonder may this consideration afford us!\n",
+    "How fertile will that imagination appear, which was able to clothe all\n",
+    "the properties of elements, the qualifications of the mind, the virtues\n",
+    "and vices, in forms and persons, and to introduce them into actions\n",
+    "agreeable to the nature of the things they shadowed! This is a field in\n",
+    "which no succeeding poets could dispute with Homer, and whatever\n",
+    "commendations have been allowed them on this head, are by no means for\n",
+    "their invention in having enlarged his circle, but for their judgment\n",
+    "in having contracted it. For when the mode of learning changed in the\n",
+    "following ages, and science was delivered in a plainer manner, it then\n",
+    "became as reasonable in the more modern poets to lay it aside, as it\n",
+    "was in Homer to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy\n",
+    "circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his time that demand\n",
+    "upon him of so great an invention as might be capable of furnishing all\n",
+    "those allegorical parts of a poem.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "The marvellous fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially\n",
+    "the machines of the gods. If Homer was not the first who introduced the\n",
+    "deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the religion of Greece, he seems\n",
+    "the first who brought them into a system of machinery for poetry, and\n",
+    "such a one as makes its greatest importance and dignity: for we find\n",
+    "those authors who have been offended at the literal notion of the gods,\n",
+    "constantly laying their accusation against Homer as the chief support\n",
+    "of it. But whatever cause there might be to blame his machines in a\n",
+    "philosophical or religious view, they are so perfect in the poetic,\n",
+    "that mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: none have\n",
+    "been able to enlarge the sphere of poetry beyond the limits he has set:\n",
+    "every attempt of this nature has proved unsuccessful; and after all the\n",
+    "various changes of times and religions, his gods continue to this day\n",
+    "the gods of poetry.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "We come now to the characters of his persons; and here we shall find no\n",
+    "author has ever drawn so many, with so visible and surprising a\n",
+    "variety, or given us such lively and affecting impressions of them.\n",
+    "Every one has something so singularly his own, that no painter could\n",
+    "have distinguished them more by their features, than the poet has by\n",
+    "their manners. Nothing can be more exact than the distinctions he has\n",
+    "observed in the different degrees of virtues and vices. The single\n",
+    "quality of courage is wonderfully diversified in the several characters\n",
+    "of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and intractable; that of\n",
+    "Diomede forward, yet listening to advice, and subject to command; that\n",
+    "of Ajax is heavy and self-confiding; of Hector, active and vigilant:\n",
+    "the courage of Agamemnon is inspirited by love of empire and ambition;\n",
+    "that of Menelaus mixed with softness and tenderness for his people: we\n",
+    "find in Idomeneus a plain direct soldier; in Sarpedon a gallant and\n",
+    "generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing diversity to be\n",
+    "found only in the principal quality which constitutes the main of each\n",
+    "character, but even in the under parts of it, to which he takes care to\n",
+    "give a tincture of that principal one. For example: the main characters\n",
+    "of Ulysses and Nestor consist in wisdom; and they are distinct in this,\n",
+    "that the wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural,\n",
+    "open, and regular. But they have, besides, characters of courage; and\n",
+    "this quality also takes a different turn in each from the difference of\n",
+    "his prudence; for one in the war depends still upon caution, the other\n",
+    "upon experience. It would be endless to produce instances of these\n",
+    "kinds. The characters of Virgil are far from striking us in this open\n",
+    "manner; they lie, in a great degree, hidden and undistinguished; and,\n",
+    "where they are marked most evidently affect us not in proportion to\n",
+    "those of Homer. His characters of valour are much alike; even that of\n",
+    "Turnus seems no way peculiar, but, as it is, in a superior degree; and\n",
+    "we see nothing that differences the courage of Mnestheus from that of\n",
+    "Sergestus, Cloanthus, or the rest. In like manner it may be remarked of\n",
+    "Statius’s heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs through them all; the\n",
+    "same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus,\n",
+    "Hippomedon, &c. They have a parity of character, which makes them seem\n",
+    "brothers of one family. I believe when the reader is led into this\n",
+    "tract of reflection, if he will pursue it through the epic and tragic\n",
+    "writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior, in this point,\n",
+    "the invention of Homer was to that of all others.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "The speeches are to be considered as they flow from the characters;\n",
+    "being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the manners,\n",
+    "of those who utter them. As there is more variety of characters in the\n",
+    "Iliad, so there is of speeches, than in any other poem. “Everything in\n",
+    "it has manner” (as Aristotle expresses it), that is, everything is\n",
+    "acted or spoken. It is hardly credible, in a work of such length, how\n",
+    "small a number of lines are employed in narration. In Virgil the\n",
+    "dramatic part is less in proportion to the narrative, and the speeches\n",
+    "often consist of general reflections or thoughts, which might be\n",
+    "equally just in any person’s mouth upon the same occasion. As many of\n",
+    "his persons have no apparent characters, so many of his speeches escape\n",
+    "being applied and judged by the rule of propriety. We oftener think of\n",
+    "the author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are engaged in\n",
+    "Homer, all which are the effects of a colder invention, that interests\n",
+    "us less in the action described. Homer makes us hearers, and Virgil\n",
+    "leaves us readers.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "If, in the next place, we take a view of the sentiments, the same\n",
+    "presiding faculty is eminent in the sublimity and spirit of his\n",
+    "thoughts. Longinus has given his opinion, that it was in this part\n",
+    "Homer principally excelled. What were alone sufficient to prove the\n",
+    "grandeur and excellence of his sentiments in general, is, that they\n",
+    "have so remarkable a parity with those of the Scripture. Duport, in his\n",
+    "Gnomologia Homerica, has collected innumerable instances of this sort.\n",
+    "And it is with justice an excellent modern writer allows, that if\n",
+    "Virgil has not so many thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so\n",
+    "many that are sublime and noble; and that the Roman author seldom rises\n",
+    "into very astonishing sentiments where he is not fired by the Iliad.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "If we observe his descriptions, images, and similes, we shall find the\n",
+    "invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast\n",
+    "comprehension of images of every sort, where we see each circumstance\n",
+    "of art, and individual of nature, summoned together by the extent and\n",
+    "fecundity of his imagination to which all things, in their various\n",
+    "views presented themselves in an instant, and had their impressions\n",
+    "taken off to perfection at a heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full\n",
+    "prospects of things, but several unexpected peculiarities and side\n",
+    "views, unobserved by any painter but Homer. Nothing is so surprising as\n",
+    "the descriptions of his battles, which take up no less than half the\n",
+    "Iliad, and are supplied with so vast a variety of incidents, that no\n",
+    "one bears a likeness to another; such different kinds of deaths, that\n",
+    "no two heroes are wounded in the same manner, and such a profusion of\n",
+    "noble ideas, that every battle rises above the last in greatness,\n",
+    "horror, and confusion. It is certain there is not near that number of\n",
+    "images and descriptions in any epic poet, though every one has assisted\n",
+    "himself with a great quantity out of him; and it is evident of Virgil\n",
+    "especially, that he has scarce any comparisons which are not drawn from\n",
+    "his master.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "If we descend from hence to the expression, we see the bright\n",
+    "imagination of Homer shining out in the most enlivened forms of it. We\n",
+    "acknowledge him the father of poetical diction; the first who taught\n",
+    "that “language of the gods” to men. His expression is like the\n",
+    "colouring of some great masters, which discovers itself to be laid on\n",
+    "boldly, and executed with rapidity. It is, indeed, the strongest and\n",
+    "most glowing imaginable, and touched with the greatest spirit.\n",
+    "Aristotle had reason to say, he was the only poet who had found out\n",
+    "“living words;” there are in him more daring figures and metaphors than\n",
+    "in any good author whatever. An arrow is “impatient” to be on the wing,\n",
+    "a weapon “thirsts” to drink the blood of an enemy, and the like, yet\n",
+    "his expression is never too big for the sense, but justly great in\n",
+    "proportion to it. It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the\n",
+    "diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it, for in the\n",
+    "same degree that a thought is warmer, an expression will be brighter,\n",
+    "as that is more strong, this will become more perspicuous; like glass\n",
+    "in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, and refines to a\n",
+    "greater clearness, only as the breath within is more powerful, and the\n",
+    "heat more intense.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "To throw his language more out of prose, Homer seems to have affected\n",
+    "the compound epithets. This was a sort of composition peculiarly proper\n",
+    "to poetry, not only as it heightened the diction, but as it assisted\n",
+    "and filled the numbers with greater sound and pomp, and likewise\n",
+    "conduced in some measure to thicken the images. On this last\n",
+    "consideration I cannot but attribute these also to the fruitfulness of\n",
+    "his invention, since (as he has managed them) they are a sort of\n",
+    "supernumerary pictures of the persons or things to which they were\n",
+    "joined. We see the motion of Hector’s plumes in the epithet\n",
+    "Κορυθαίολος, the landscape of Mount Neritus in that of Εἰνοσίφυλλος,\n",
+    "and so of others, which particular images could not have been insisted\n",
+    "upon so long as to express them in a description (though but of a\n",
+    "single line) without diverting the reader too much from the principal\n",
+    "action or figure. As a metaphor is a short simile, one of these\n",
+    "epithets is a short description.\n",
+    "\n",
+    "\n",
+    "Lastly, if we consider his versification, we shall be sensible what a\n",
+    "share of praise is due to his invention in that also. He was not\n",
+    "satisfied with his language as he found it settled in any one part of\n",
+    "Greece, but searched through its different dialects with this\n",
+    "particular view, to beautify and perfect his numbers he considered\n",
+    "these as they had a greater mixture of vowels or consonants, and\n",
+    "accordingly employed them as the verse required either a greater\n",
+    "smoothness or strength. What he most affected was the Ionic, which has\n",
+    "a peculiar sweetness, from its never using contractions, and from its\n",
+    "custom of resolving the diphthongs into two syllables, so as to make\n",
+    "the words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous fluency.\n",
+    "With this he mingled the Attic contractions, the broader Doric, and the\n",
+    "feebler Æolic, which often rejects its aspirate, or takes off its\n",
+    "accent, and completed this variety by altering some letters with the\n",
+    "licence of poetry. Thus his measures, instead of being fetters to his\n",
+    "sense, were always in readiness to run along with the warmth of his\n",
+    "rapture, and even to give a further representation of his notions, in\n",
+    "the correspondence of their sounds to what they signified. Out of all\n",
+    "these he has derived that harmony which makes us confess he had not\n",
+    "only the richest head, but the finest ear in the world. This is so\n",
+    "great a truth, that whoever will but consult the tune of his verses,\n",
+    "even without understanding them (with the same sort of diligence as we\n",
+    "daily see practised in the case of Italian operas), will find more\n",
+    "sweetness, variety, and majesty of sound, than in any other language of\n",
+    "poetry.\"\"\""
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 22,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "filename = \"PI_lines\"\n",
+    "\n",
+    "with open(f\"./{filename}.txt\", \"w\") as f:\n",
+    "    chars = f.write(iliad_1)"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 16,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "PI_lines = PI_lines.splitlines()"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 20,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "for index in range(len(PI_lines)):\n",
+    "    with open(f\"./PI_{index}.txt\", \"w\") as f:\n",
+    "        f.write(PI_lines[index])"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 18,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "from pathlib import Path\n",
+    "\n",
+    "out_dir = Path(\"my_files\")\n",
+    "\n",
+    "outfile = out_dir / Path(\"all_lines.txt\")\n",
+    "\n",
+    "if not out_dir.exists():\n",
+    "    out_dir.mkdir()"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 19,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "with open(outfile, \"a\") as a:\n",
+    "    for PI_file in Path(\".\").glob(\"iliad_*.txt\"):\n",
+    "        with open(iliad_file, \"r\") as f:\n",
+    "            a.write(f.read() + \"\\n\")"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 30,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "filename = \"pope-iliad\"\n",
+    "\n",
+    "with open(f\"./{filename}.txt\", \"w\") as f:\n",
+    "    chars = f.write(iliad_1)"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 32,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "lines = filename.splitlines()\n",
+    "sliced_lines = lines[1:1001]"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 33,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "from pathlib import Path\n",
+    "\n",
+    "out_dir = Path(\"sliced_lines\")\n",
+    "\n",
+    "if not out_dir.exists():\n",
+    "    out_dir.mkdir()"
+   ]
+  },
+  {
+   "cell_type": "code",
+   "execution_count": 35,
+   "metadata": {},
+   "outputs": [],
+   "source": [
+    "for index in range(len(sliced_lines)):\n",
+    "    file_path = out_dir / \"pope-iliad_{index}.txt\"\n",
+    "    with open(file_path, \"w\") as f:\n",
+    "        f.write(sliced_lines[index])"
+   ]
   }
  ],
  "metadata": {
diff --git a/my_files/all_lines.txt b/my_files/all_lines.txt
index 4b9ed27..16ac64a 100644
--- a/my_files/all_lines.txt
+++ b/my_files/all_lines.txt
@@ -22,3 +22,19 @@ With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
 Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
 Such as a king might ask; and let it be
 Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+At thy demand shall I restore the maid?
+A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
+First let the just equivalent be paid;
+Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right.
+With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
+Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
+Such as a king might ask; and let it be
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
diff --git a/pope-iliad.txt b/pope-iliad.txt
index b5448e0..c0a95b6 100644
--- a/pope-iliad.txt
+++ b/pope-iliad.txt
@@ -1,26058 +1,8 @@
-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Iliad
-    
-This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online
-at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
-you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
-before using this eBook.
-
-Title: The Iliad
-
-Author: Homer
-
-Annotator: Theodore Alois Buckley
-
-Translator: Alexander Pope
-
-Release date: July 1, 2004 [eBook #6130]
-                Most recently updated: April 23, 2022
-
-Language: English
-
-Credits: Anne Soulard, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks, and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team
-
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ILIAD ***
-
-
-
-
-The
-Iliad of Homer
-
-Translated by
-Alexander Pope,
-
-With Notes and Introduction
-by the
-Rev. Theodore Alois Buckley, M.A., F.S.A.
-
-and
-Flaxman’s Designs.
-
-1899
-
-
-Contents
-
- INTRODUCTION.
- POPE’S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD OF HOMER
-
- THE ILIAD
- BOOK I.
- BOOK II.
- BOOK III.
- BOOK IV.
- BOOK V.
- BOOK VI.
- BOOK VII.
- BOOK VIII.
- BOOK IX.
- BOOK X.
- BOOK XI.
- BOOK XII.
- BOOK XIII.
- BOOK XIV.
- BOOK XV.
- BOOK XVI.
- BOOK XVII.
- BOOK XVIII.
- BOOK XIX.
- BOOK XX.
- BOOK XXI.
- BOOK XXII.
- BOOK XXIII.
- BOOK XXIV.
-
- CONCLUDING NOTE.
-
-
-
-
-Illustrations
-
- HOMER INVOKING THE MUSE
- MARS
- MINERVA REPRESSING THE FURY OF ACHILLES
- THE DEPARTURE OF BRISEIS FROM THE TENT OF ACHILLES
- THETIS CALLING BRIAREUS TO THE ASSISTANCE OF JUPITER
- THETIS ENTREATING JUPITER TO HONOUR ACHILLES
- VULCAN
- JUPITER
- THE APOTHEOSIS OF HOMER
- JUPITER SENDING THE EVIL DREAM TO AGAMEMNON
- NEPTUNE
- VENUS, DISGUISED, INVITING HELEN TO THE CHAMBER OF PARIS
- VENUS PRESENTING HELEN TO PARIS
- VENUS
- Map, titled “GRÆCIÆ ANTIQUÆ”
- THE COUNCIL OF THE GODS
- Map of the Plain of Troy
- VENUS, WOUNDED IN THE HAND, CONDUCTED BY IRIS TO MARS
- OTUS AND EPHIALTES HOLDING MARS CAPTIVE
- DIOMED CASTING HIS SPEAR AT MARS
- JUNO
- HECTOR CHIDING PARIS
- THE MEETING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE
- BOWS AND BOW CASE
- IRIS
- HECTOR AND AJAX SEPARATED BY THE HERALDS
- GREEK AMPHORA—WINE VESSELS
- JUNO AND MINERVA GOING TO ASSIST THE GREEKS
- THE HOURS TAKING THE HORSES FROM JUNO’S CAR
- THE SHIELD OF ACHILLES
- PLUTO
- THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES
- GREEK GALLEY
- PROSERPINE
- ACHILLES
- DIOMED AND ULYSSES RETURNING WITH THE SPOILS OF RHESUS
- THE DESCENT OF DISCORD
- HERCULES
- POLYDAMAS ADVISING HECTOR
- GREEK ALTAR
- NEPTUNE RISING FROM THE SEA
- GREEK EARRINGS
- SLEEP ESCAPING FROM THE WRATH OF JUPITER
- GREEK SHIELD
- BACCHUS
- AJAX DEFENDING THE GREEK SHIPS
- CASTOR AND POLLUX
- Buckles
- DIANA
- SLEEP AND DEATH CONVEYING THE BODY OF SARPEDON TO LYCIA
- ÆSCULAPIUS
- FIGHT FOR THE BODY OF PATROCLUS
- VULCAN FROM AN ANTIQUE GEM
- THETIS ORDERING THE NEREIDS TO DESCEND INTO THE SEA
- JUNO COMMANDING THE SUN TO SET
- TRIPOD
- THETIS AND EURYNOME RECEIVING THE INFANT VULCAN
- VULCAN AND CHARIS RECEIVING THETIS
- THETIS BRINGING THE ARMOUR TO ACHILLES
- HERCULES
- THE GODS DESCENDING TO BATTLE
- CENTAUR
- ACHILLES CONTENDING WITH THE RIVERS
- THE BATH
- ANDROMACHE FAINTING ON THE WALL
- THE FUNERAL PILE OF PATROCLUS
- CERES
- HECTOR’S BODY AT THE CAR OF ACHILLES
- THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS
- IRIS ADVISES PRIAM TO OBTAIN THE BODY OF HECTOR
- FUNERAL OF HECTOR
-
-
-
-
-INTRODUCTION.
-
-
-Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of
-scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the
-most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very
-gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and
-emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set
-aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as we learn, we must be
-daily unlearning something which it has cost us no small labour and
-anxiety to acquire.
-
-And this difficulty attaches itself more closely to an age in which
-progress has gained a strong ascendency over prejudice, and in which
-persons and things are, day by day, finding their real level, in lieu
-of their conventional value. The same principles which have swept away
-traditional abuses, and which are making rapid havoc among the revenues
-of sinecurists, and stripping the thin, tawdry veil from attractive
-superstitions, are working as actively in literature as in society. The
-credulity of one writer, or the partiality of another, finds as
-powerful a touchstone and as wholesome a chastisement in the healthy
-scepticism of a temperate class of antagonists, as the dreams of
-conservatism, or the impostures of pluralist sinecures in the Church.
-History and tradition, whether of ancient or comparatively recent
-times, are subjected to very different handling from that which the
-indulgence or credulity of former ages could allow. Mere statements are
-jealously watched, and the motives of the writer form as important an
-ingredient in the analysis of his history, as the facts he records.
-Probability is a powerful and troublesome test; and it is by this
-troublesome standard that a large portion of historical evidence is
-sifted. Consistency is no less pertinacious and exacting in its
-demands. In brief, to write a history, we must know more than mere
-facts. Human nature, viewed under an induction of extended experience,
-is the best help to the criticism of human history. Historical
-characters can only be estimated by the standard which human
-experience, whether actual or traditionary, has furnished. To form
-correct views of individuals we must regard them as forming parts of a
-great whole—we must measure them by their relation to the mass of
-beings by whom they are surrounded, and, in contemplating the incidents
-in their lives or condition which tradition has handed down to us, we
-must rather consider the general bearing of the whole narrative, than
-the respective probability of its details.
-
-It is unfortunate for us, that, of some of the greatest men, we know
-least, and talk most. Homer, Socrates, and Shakespere[1] have, perhaps,
-contributed more to the intellectual enlightenment of mankind than any
-other three writers who could be named, and yet the history of all
-three has given rise to a boundless ocean of discussion, which has left
-us little save the option of choosing which theory or theories we will
-follow. The personality of Shakespere is, perhaps, the only thing in
-which critics will allow us to believe without controversy; but upon
-everything else, even down to the authorship of plays, there is more or
-less of doubt and uncertainty. Of Socrates we know as little as the
-contradictions of Plato and Xenophon will allow us to know. He was one
-of the _dramatis personæ_ in two dramas as unlike in principles as in
-style. He appears as the enunciator of opinions as different in their
-tone as those of the writers who have handed them down. When we have
-read Plato _or_ Xenophon, we think we know something of Socrates; when
-we have fairly read and examined both, we feel convinced that we are
-something worse than ignorant.
-
-It has been an easy, and a popular expedient, of late years, to deny
-the personal or real existence of men and things whose life and
-condition were too much for our belief. This system—which has often
-comforted the religious sceptic, and substituted the consolations of
-Strauss for those of the New Testament—has been of incalculable value
-to the historical theorists of the last and present centuries. To
-question the existence of Alexander the Great, would be a more
-excusable act, than to believe in that of Romulus. To deny a fact
-related in Herodotus, because it is inconsistent with a theory
-developed from an Assyrian inscription which no two scholars read in
-the same way, is more pardonable, than to believe in the good-natured
-old king whom the elegant pen of Florian has idealized—_Numa
-Pompilius._
-
-Scepticism has attained its culminating point with respect to Homer,
-and the state of our Homeric knowledge may be described as a free
-permission to believe any theory, provided we throw overboard all
-written tradition, concerning the author or authors of the Iliad and
-Odyssey. What few authorities exist on the subject, are summarily
-dismissed, although the arguments appear to run in a circle. “This
-cannot be true, because it is not true; and, that is not true, because
-it cannot be true.” Such seems to be the style, in which testimony upon
-testimony, statement upon statement, is consigned to denial and
-oblivion.
-
-It is, however, unfortunate that the professed biographies of Homer are
-partly forgeries, partly freaks of ingenuity and imagination, in which
-truth is the requisite most wanting. Before taking a brief review of
-the Homeric theory in its present conditions, some notice must be taken
-of the treatise on the Life of Homer which has been attributed to
-Herodotus.
-
-According to this document, the city of Cumæ in Æolia, was, at an
-early period, the seat of frequent immigrations from various parts of
-Greece. Among the immigrants was Menapolus, the son of Ithagenes.
-Although poor, he married, and the result of the union was a girl named
-Critheïs. The girl was left an orphan at an early age, under the
-guardianship of Cleanax, of Argos. It is to the indiscretion of this
-maiden that we “are indebted for so much happiness.” Homer was the
-first fruit of her juvenile frailty, and received the name of
-Melesigenes, from having been born near the river Meles, in Bœotia,
-whither Critheïs had been transported in order to save her reputation.
-
-“At this time,” continues our narrative, “there lived at Smyrna a man
-named Phemius, a teacher of literature and music, who, not being
-married, engaged Critheïs to manage his household, and spin the flax he
-received as the price of his scholastic labours. So satisfactory was
-her performance of this task, and so modest her conduct, that he made
-proposals of marriage, declaring himself, as a further inducement,
-willing to adopt her son, who, he asserted, would become a clever man,
-if he were carefully brought up.”
-
-They were married; careful cultivation ripened the talents which nature
-had bestowed, and Melesigenes soon surpassed his schoolfellows in every
-attainment, and, when older, rivalled his preceptor in wisdom. Phemius
-died, leaving him sole heir to his property, and his mother soon
-followed. Melesigenes carried on his adopted father’s school with great
-success, exciting the admiration not only of the inhabitants of Smyrna,
-but also of the strangers whom the trade carried on there, especially
-in the exportation of corn, attracted to that city. Among these
-visitors, one Mentes, from Leucadia, the modern Santa Maura, who
-evinced a knowledge and intelligence rarely found in those times,
-persuaded Melesigenes to close his school, and accompany him on his
-travels. He promised not only to pay his expenses, but to furnish him
-with a further stipend, urging, that, “While he was yet young, it was
-fitting that he should see with his own eyes the countries and cities
-which might hereafter be the subjects of his discourses.” Melesigenes
-consented, and set out with his patron, “examining all the curiosities
-of the countries they visited, and informing himself of everything by
-interrogating those whom he met.” We may also suppose, that he wrote
-memoirs of all that he deemed worthy of preservation.[2] Having set
-sail from Tyrrhenia and Iberia, they reached Ithaca. Here Melesigenes,
-who had already suffered in his eyes, became much worse, and Mentes,
-who was about to leave for Leucadia, left him to the medical
-superintendence of a friend of his, named Mentor, the son of Alcinor.
-Under his hospitable and intelligent host, Melesigenes rapidly became
-acquainted with the legends respecting Ulysses, which afterwards formed
-the subject of the Odyssey. The inhabitants of Ithaca assert, that it
-was here that Melesigenes became blind, but the Colophomans make their
-city the seat of that misfortune. He then returned to Smyrna, where he
-applied himself to the study of poetry.[3]
-
-But poverty soon drove him to Cumæ. Having passed over the Hermæan
-plain, he arrived at Neon Teichos, the New Wall, a colony of Cumæ.
-Here his misfortunes and poetical talent gained him the friendship of
-one Tychias, an armourer. “And up to my time,” continued the author,
-“the inhabitants showed the place where he used to sit when giving a
-recitation of his verses, and they greatly honoured the spot. Here also
-a poplar grew, which they said had sprung up ever since Melesigenes
-arrived”.[4]
-
-But poverty still drove him on, and he went by way of Larissa, as being
-the most convenient road. Here, the Cumans say, he composed an epitaph
-on Gordius, king of Phrygia, which has however, and with greater
-probability, been attributed to Cleobulus of Lindus.[5]
-
-Arrived at Cumæ, he frequented the _converzationes_[6] of the old men,
-and delighted all by the charms of his poetry. Encouraged by this
-favourable reception, he declared that, if they would allow him a
-public maintenance, he would render their city most gloriously
-renowned. They avowed their willingness to support him in the measure
-he proposed, and procured him an audience in the council. Having made
-the speech, with the purport of which our author has forgotten to
-acquaint us, he retired, and left them to debate respecting the answer
-to be given to his proposal.
-
-The greater part of the assembly seemed favourable to the poet’s
-demand, but one man observed that “if they were to feed _Homers_, they
-would be encumbered with a multitude of useless people.” “From this
-circumstance,” says the writer, “Melesigenes acquired the name of
-Homer, for the Cumans call blind men _Homers_.”[7] With a love of
-economy, which shows how similar the world has always been in its
-treatment of literary men, the pension was denied, and the poet vented
-his disappointment in a wish that Cumæa might never produce a poet
-capable of giving it renown and glory.
-
-At Phocœa, Homer was destined to experience another literary distress.
-One Thestorides, who aimed at the reputation of poetical genius, kept
-Homer in his own house, and allowed him a pittance, on condition of the
-verses of the poet passing in his name. Having collected sufficient
-poetry to be profitable, Thestorides, like some would-be-literary
-publishers, neglected the man whose brains he had sucked, and left him.
-At his departure, Homer is said to have observed: “O Thestorides, of
-the many things hidden from the knowledge of man, nothing is more
-unintelligible than the human heart.”[8]
-
-Homer continued his career of difficulty and distress, until some Chian
-merchants, struck by the similarity of the verses they heard him
-recite, acquainted him with the fact that Thestorides was pursuing a
-profitable livelihood by the recital of the very same poems. This at
-once determined him to set out for Chios. No vessel happened then to be
-setting sail thither, but he found one ready to start for Erythræ, a
-town of Ionia, which faces that island, and he prevailed upon the
-seamen to allow him to accompany them. Having embarked, he invoked a
-favourable wind, and prayed that he might be able to expose the
-imposture of Thestorides, who, by his breach of hospitality, had drawn
-down the wrath of Jove the Hospitable.
-
-At Erythræ, Homer fortunately met with a person who had known him in
-Phocœa, by whose assistance he at length, after some difficulty,
-reached the little hamlet of Pithys. Here he met with an adventure,
-which we will continue in the words of our author. “Having set out from
-Pithys, Homer went on, attracted by the cries of some goats that were
-pasturing. The dogs barked on his approach, and he cried out. Glaucus
-(for that was the name of the goat-herd) heard his voice, ran up
-quickly, called off his dogs, and drove them away from Homer. For some
-time he stood wondering how a blind man should have reached such a
-place alone, and what could be his design in coming. He then went up to
-him, and inquired who he was, and how he had come to desolate places
-and untrodden spots, and of what he stood in need. Homer, by recounting
-to him the whole history of his misfortunes, moved him with compassion;
-and he took him, and led him to his cot, and having lit a fire, bade
-him sup.[9]
-
-“The dogs, instead of eating, kept barking at the stranger, according
-to their usual habit. Whereupon Homer addressed Glaucus thus: O
-Glaucus, my friend, prythee attend to my behest. First give the dogs
-their supper at the doors of the hut: for so it is better, since,
-whilst they watch, nor thief nor wild beast will approach the fold.
-
-Glaucus was pleased with the advice, and marvelled at its author.
-Having finished supper, they banqueted[10] afresh on conversation,
-Homer narrating his wanderings, and telling of the cities he had
-visited.
-
-At length they retired to rest; but on the following morning, Glaucus
-resolved to go to his master, and acquaint him with his meeting with
-Homer. Having left the goats in charge of a fellow-servant, he left
-Homer at home, promising to return quickly. Having arrived at Bolissus,
-a place near the farm, and finding his mate, he told him the whole
-story respecting Homer and his journey. He paid little attention to
-what he said, and blamed Glaucus for his stupidity in taking in and
-feeding maimed and enfeebled persons. However, he bade him bring the
-stranger to him.
-
-Glaucus told Homer what had taken place, and bade him follow him,
-assuring him that good fortune would be the result. Conversation soon
-showed that the stranger was a man of much cleverness and general
-knowledge, and the Chian persuaded him to remain, and to undertake the
-charge of his children.[11]
-
-Besides the satisfaction of driving the impostor Thestorides from the
-island, Homer enjoyed considerable success as a teacher. In the town of
-Chios he established a school where he taught the precepts of poetry.
-“To this day,” says Chandler,[12] “the most curious remaining is that
-which has been named, without reason, the School of Homer. It is on the
-coast, at some distance from the city, northward, and appears to have
-been an open temple of Cybele, formed on the top of a rock. The shape
-is oval, and in the centre is the image of the goddess, the head and an
-arm wanting. She is represented, as usual, sitting. The chair has a
-lion carved on each side, and on the back. The area is bounded by a low
-rim, or seat, and about five yards over. The whole is hewn out of the
-mountain, is rude, indistinct, and probably of the most remote
-antiquity.”
-
-So successful was this school, that Homer realised a considerable
-fortune. He married, and had two daughters, one of whom died single,
-the other married a Chian.
-
-The following passage betrays the same tendency to connect the
-personages of the poems with the history of the poet, which has already
-been mentioned:—
-
-“In his poetical compositions Homer displays great gratitude towards
-Mentor of Ithaca, in the Odyssey, whose name he has inserted in his
-poem as the companion of Ulysses,[13] in return for the care taken of
-him when afflicted with blindness. He also testifies his gratitude to
-Phemius, who had given him both sustenance and instruction.”
-
-His celebrity continued to increase, and many persons advised him to
-visit Greece, whither his reputation had now extended. Having, it is
-said, made some additions to his poems calculated to please the vanity
-of the Athenians, of whose city he had hitherto made no mention,[14] he
-sent out for Samos. Here being recognized by a Samian, who had met with
-him in Chios, he was handsomely received, and invited to join in
-celebrating the Apaturian festival. He recited some verses, which gave
-great satisfaction, and by singing the Eiresione at the New Moon
-festivals, he earned a subsistence, visiting the houses of the rich,
-with whose children he was very popular.
-
-In the spring he sailed for Athens, and arrived at the island of Ios,
-now Ino, where he fell extremely ill, and died. It is said that his
-death arose from vexation, at not having been able to unravel an enigma
-proposed by some fishermen’s children.[15]
-
-Such is, in brief, the substance of the earliest life of Homer we
-possess, and so broad are the evidences of its historical
-worthlessness, that it is scarcely necessary to point them out in
-detail. Let us now consider some of the opinions to which a
-persevering, patient, and learned—but by no means consistent—series of
-investigations has led. In doing so, I profess to bring forward
-statements, not to vouch for their reasonableness or probability.
-
-“Homer appeared. The history of this poet and his works is lost in
-doubtful obscurity, as is the history of many of the first minds who
-have done honour to humanity, because they rose amidst darkness. The
-majestic stream of his song, blessing and fertilizing, flows like the
-Nile, through many lands and nations; and, like the sources of the
-Nile, its fountains will ever remain concealed.”
-
-Such are the words in which one of the most judicious German critics
-has eloquently described the uncertainty in which the whole of the
-Homeric question is involved. With no less truth and feeling he
-proceeds:—
-
-“It seems here of chief importance to expect no more than the nature of
-things makes possible. If the period of tradition in history is the
-region of twilight, we should not expect in it perfect light. The
-creations of genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for
-the most part, created far out of the reach of observation. If we were
-in possession of all the historical testimonies, we never could wholly
-explain the origin of the Iliad and the Odyssey; for their origin, in
-all essential points, must have remained the secret of the poet.”[16]
-
-From this criticism, which shows as much insight into the depths of
-human nature as into the minute wire-drawings of scholastic
-investigation, let us pass on to the main question at issue. Was Homer
-an individual?[17] or were the Iliad and Odyssey the result of an
-ingenious arrangement of fragments by earlier poets?
-
-Well has Landor remarked: “Some tell us there were twenty Homers; some
-deny that there was ever one. It were idle and foolish to shake the
-contents of a vase, in order to let them settle at last. We are
-perpetually labouring to destroy our delights, our composure, our
-devotion to superior power. Of all the animals on earth we least know
-what is good for us. My opinion is, that what is best for us is our
-admiration of good. No man living venerates Homer more than I do.”[18]
-
-But, greatly as we admire the generous enthusiasm which rests contented
-with the poetry on which its best impulses had been nurtured and
-fostered, without seeking to destroy the vividness of first impressions
-by minute analysis—our editorial office compels us to give some
-attention to the doubts and difficulties with which the Homeric
-question is beset, and to entreat our reader, for a brief period, to
-prefer his judgment to his imagination, and to condescend to dry
-details.
-
-Before, however, entering into particulars respecting the question of
-this unity of the Homeric poems, (at least of the Iliad,) I must
-express my sympathy with the sentiments expressed in the following
-remarks:—
-
-“We cannot but think the universal admiration of its unity by the
-better, the poetic age of Greece, almost conclusive testimony to its
-original composition. It was not till the age of the grammarians that
-its primitive integrity was called in question; nor is it injustice to
-assert, that the minute and analytical spirit of a grammarian is not
-the best qualification for the profound feeling, the comprehensive
-conception of an harmonious whole. The most exquisite anatomist may be
-no judge of the symmetry of the human frame: and we would take the
-opinion of Chantrey or Westmacott on the proportions and general beauty
-of a form, rather than that of Mr. Brodie or Sir Astley Cooper.
-
-“There is some truth, though some malicious exaggeration, in the lines
-of Pope.—
-
-“‘The critic eye—that microscope of wit
-Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit,
-How parts relate to parts, or they to whole,
-The body’s harmony, the beaming soul,
-Are things which Kuster, Burmann, Wasse, shall see,
-When man’s whole frame is obvious to a flea.’”[19]
-
-
-Long was the time which elapsed before any one dreamt of questioning
-the unity of the authorship of the Homeric poems. The grave and
-cautious Thucydides quoted without hesitation the Hymn to Apollo,[20]
-the authenticity of which has been already disclaimed by modern
-critics. Longinus, in an oft quoted passage, merely expressed an
-opinion touching the comparative inferiority of the Odyssey to the
-Iliad,[21] and, among a mass of ancient authors, whose very names[22]
-it would be tedious to detail, no suspicion of the personal
-non-existence of Homer ever arose. So far, the voice of antiquity seems
-to be in favour of our early ideas on the subject; let us now see what
-are the discoveries to which more modern investigations lay claim.
-
-At the end of the seventeenth century, doubts had begun to awaken on
-the subject, and we find Bentley remarking that “Homer wrote a sequel
-of songs and rhapsodies, to be sung by himself, for small comings and
-good cheer, at festivals and other days of merriment. These loose songs
-were not collected together, in the form of an epic poem, till about
-Peisistratus’ time, about five hundred years after.”[23]
-
-Two French writers—Hedelin and Perrault—avowed a similar scepticism on
-the subject; but it is in the “Scienza Nuova” of Battista Vico, that we
-first meet with the germ of the theory, subsequently defended by Wolf
-with so much learning and acuteness. Indeed, it is with the Wolfian
-theory that we have chiefly to deal, and with the following bold
-hypothesis, which we will detail in the words of Grote:—[24]
-
-“Half a century ago, the acute and valuable Prolegomena of F. A. Wolf,
-turning to account the Venetian Scholia, which had then been recently
-published, first opened philosophical discussion as to the history of
-the Homeric text. A considerable part of that dissertation (though by
-no means the whole) is employed in vindicating the position, previously
-announced by Bentley, amongst others, that the separate constituent
-portions of the Iliad and Odyssey had not been cemented together into
-any compact body and unchangeable order, until the days of
-Peisistratus, in the sixth century before Christ. As a step towards
-that conclusion, Wolf maintained that no written copies of either poem
-could be shown to have existed during the earlier times, to which their
-composition is referred; and that without writing, neither the perfect
-symmetry of so complicated a work could have been originally conceived
-by any poet, nor, if realized by him, transmitted with assurance to
-posterity. The absence of easy and convenient writing, such as must be
-indispensably supposed for long manuscripts, among the early Greeks,
-was thus one of the points in Wolf’s case against the primitive
-integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey. By Nitzsch, and other leading
-opponents of Wolf, the connection of the one with the other seems to
-have been accepted as he originally put it; and it has been considered
-incumbent on those who defended the ancient aggregate character of the
-Iliad and Odyssey, to maintain that they were written poems from the
-beginning.
-
-“To me it appears, that the architectonic functions ascribed by Wolf to
-Peisistratus and his associates, in reference to the Homeric poems, are
-nowise admissible. But much would undoubtedly be gained towards that
-view of the question, if it could be shown, that, in order to
-controvert it, we were driven to the necessity of admitting long
-written poems, in the ninth century before the Christian æra. Few
-things, in my opinion, can be more improbable; and Mr. Payne Knight,
-opposed as he is to the Wolfian hypothesis, admits this no less than
-Wolf himself. The traces of writing in Greece, even in the seventh
-century before the Christian æra, are exceedingly trifling. We have no
-remaining inscription earlier than the fortieth Olympiad, and the early
-inscriptions are rude and unskilfully executed; nor can we even assure
-ourselves whether Archilochus, Simonidês of Amorgus, Kallinus,
-Tyrtæus, Xanthus, and the other early elegiac and lyric poets,
-committed their compositions to writing, or at what time the practice
-of doing so became familiar. The first positive ground which authorizes
-us to presume the existence of a manuscript of Homer, is in the famous
-ordinance of Solôn, with regard to the rhapsodies at the Panathenæa:
-but for what length of time previously manuscripts had existed, we are
-unable to say.
-
-“Those who maintain the Homeric poems to have been written from the
-beginning, rest their case, not upon positive proofs, nor yet upon the
-existing habits of society with regard to poetry—for they admit
-generally that the Iliad and Odyssey were not read, but recited and
-heard,—but upon the supposed necessity that there must have been
-manuscripts to ensure the preservation of the poems—the unassisted
-memory of reciters being neither sufficient nor trustworthy. But here
-we only escape a smaller difficulty by running into a greater; for the
-existence of trained bards, gifted with extraordinary memory,[25] is
-far less astonishing than that of long manuscripts, in an age
-essentially non-reading and non-writing, and when even suitable
-instruments and materials for the process are not obvious. Moreover,
-there is a strong positive reason for believing that the bard was under
-no necessity of refreshing his memory by consulting a manuscript; for
-if such had been the fact, blindness would have been a disqualification
-for the profession, which we know that it was not, as well from the
-example of Demodokus, in the Odyssey, as from that of the blind bard of
-Chios, in the Hymn to the Delian Apollo, whom Thucydides, as well as
-the general tenor of Grecian legend, identifies with Homer himself. The
-author of that hymn, be he who he may, could never have described a
-blind man as attaining the utmost perfection in his art, if he had been
-conscious that the memory of the bard was only maintained by constant
-reference to the manuscript in his chest.”
-
-The loss of the digamma, that _crux_ of critics, that quicksand upon
-which even the acumen of Bentley was shipwrecked, seems to prove beyond
-a doubt, that the pronunciation of the Greek language had undergone a
-considerable change. Now it is certainly difficult to suppose that the
-Homeric poems could have suffered by this change, had written copies
-been preserved. If Chaucer’s poetry, for instance, had not been
-written, it could only have come down to us in a softened form, more
-like the effeminate version of Dryden, than the rough, quaint, noble
-original.
-
-“At what period,” continues Grote, “these poems, or indeed any other
-Greek poems, first began to be written, must be matter of conjecture,
-though there is ground for assurance that it was before the time of
-Solôn. If, in the absence of evidence, we may venture upon naming any
-more determinate period, the question at once suggests itself, What
-were the purposes which, in that state of society, a manuscript at its
-first commencement must have been intended to answer? For whom was a
-written Iliad necessary? Not for the rhapsodes; for with them it was
-not only planted in the memory, but also interwoven with the feelings,
-and conceived in conjunction with all those flexions and intonations of
-voice, pauses, and other oral artifices which were required for
-emphatic delivery, and which the naked manuscript could never
-reproduce. Not for the general public—they were accustomed to receive
-it with its rhapsodic delivery, and with its accompaniments of a solemn
-and crowded festival. The only persons for whom the written Iliad would
-be suitable would be a select few; studious and curious men; a class of
-readers capable of analyzing the complicated emotions which they had
-experienced as hearers in the crowd, and who would, on perusing the
-written words, realize in their imaginations a sensible portion of the
-impression communicated by the reciter. Incredible as the statement may
-seem in an age like the present, there is in all early societies, and
-there was in early Greece, a time when no such reading class existed.
-If we could discover at what time such a class first began to be
-formed, we should be able to make a guess at the time when the old epic
-poems were first committed to writing. Now the period which may with
-the greatest probability be fixed upon as having first witnessed the
-formation even of the narrowest reading class in Greece, is the middle
-of the seventh century before the Christian æra (B.C. 660 to B.C.
-630), the age of Terpander, Kallinus, Archilochus, Simonidês of
-Amorgus, &c. I ground this supposition on the change then operated in
-the character and tendencies of Grecian poetry and music—the elegiac
-and the iambic measures having been introduced as rivals to the
-primitive hexameter, and poetical compositions having been transferred
-from the epical past to the affairs of present and real life. Such a
-change was important at a time when poetry was the only known mode of
-publication (to use a modern phrase not altogether suitable, yet the
-nearest approaching to the sense). It argued a new way of looking at
-the old epical treasures of the people as well as a thirst for new
-poetical effect; and the men who stood forward in it, may well be
-considered as desirous to study, and competent to criticize, from their
-own individual point of view, the written words of the Homeric
-rhapsodies, just as we are told that Kallinus both noticed and
-eulogized the Thebaïs as the production of Homer. There seems,
-therefore, ground for conjecturing that (for the use of this
-newly-formed and important, but very narrow class), manuscripts of the
-Homeric poems and other old epics,—the Thebaïs and the Cypria, as well
-as the Iliad and the Odyssey,—began to be compiled towards the middle
-of the seventh century (B.C. 1); and the opening of Egypt to Grecian
-commerce, which took place about the same period, would furnish
-increased facilities for obtaining the requisite papyrus to write upon.
-A reading class, when once formed, would doubtless slowly increase, and
-the number of manuscripts along with it; so that before the time of
-Solôn, fifty years afterwards, both readers and manuscripts, though
-still comparatively few, might have attained a certain recognized
-authority, and formed a tribunal of reference against the carelessness
-of individual rhapsodes.”[26]
-
-But even Peisistratus has not been suffered to remain in possession of
-the credit, and we cannot help feeling the force of the following
-observations—
-
-“There are several incidental circumstances which, in our opinion,
-throw some suspicion over the whole history of the Peisistratid
-compilation, at least over the theory, that the Iliad was cast into its
-present stately and harmonious form by the directions of the Athenian
-ruler. If the great poets, who flourished at the bright period of
-Grecian song, of which, alas! we have inherited little more than the
-fame, and the faint echo, if Stesichorus, Anacreon, and Simonidês were
-employed in the noble task of compiling the Iliad and Odyssey, so much
-must have been done to arrange, to connect, to harmonize, that it is
-almost incredible, that stronger marks of Athenian manufacture should
-not remain. Whatever occasional anomalies may be detected, anomalies
-which no doubt arise out of our own ignorance of the language of the
-Homeric age, however the irregular use of the digamma may have
-perplexed our Bentleys, to whom the name of Helen is said to have
-caused as much disquiet and distress as the fair one herself among the
-heroes of her age, however Mr. Knight may have failed in reducing the
-Homeric language to its primitive form; however, finally, the Attic
-dialect may not have assumed all its more marked and distinguishing
-characteristics—still it is difficult to suppose that the language,
-particularly in the joinings and transitions, and connecting parts,
-should not more clearly betray the incongruity between the more ancient
-and modern forms of expression. It is not quite in character with such
-a period to imitate an antique style, in order to piece out an
-imperfect poem in the character of the original, as Sir Walter Scott
-has done in his continuation of Sir Tristram.
-
-“If, however, not even such faint and indistinct traces of Athenian
-compilation are discoverable in the language of the poems, the total
-absence of Athenian national feeling is perhaps no less worthy of
-observation. In later, and it may fairly be suspected in earlier times,
-the Athenians were more than ordinarily jealous of the fame of their
-ancestors. But, amid all the traditions of the glories of early Greece
-embodied in the Iliad, the Athenians play a most subordinate and
-insignificant part. Even the few passages which relate to their
-ancestors, Mr. Knight suspects to be interpolations. It is possible,
-indeed, that in its leading outline, the Iliad may be true to historic
-fact, that in the great maritime expedition of western Greece against
-the rival and half-kindred empire of the Laomedontiadæ, the chieftain
-of Thessaly, from his valour and the number of his forces, may have
-been the most important ally of the Peloponnesian sovereign; the
-preeminent value of the ancient poetry on the Trojan war may thus have
-forced the national feeling of the Athenians to yield to their taste.
-The songs which spoke of their own great ancestor were, no doubt, of
-far inferior sublimity and popularity, or, at first sight, a Theseid
-would have been much more likely to have emanated from an Athenian
-synod of compilers of ancient song, than an Achilleid or an Olysseid.
-Could France have given birth to a Tasso, Tancred would have been the
-hero of the Jerusalem. If, however, the Homeric ballads, as they are
-sometimes called, which related the wrath of Achilles, with all its
-direful consequences, were so far superior to the rest of the poetic
-cycle, as to admit no rivalry,—it is still surprising, that throughout
-the whole poem the callida junctura should never betray the workmanship
-of an Athenian hand, and that the national spirit of a race, who have
-at a later period not inaptly been compared to our self admiring
-neighbours, the French, should submit with lofty self denial to the
-almost total exclusion of their own ancestors—or, at least, to the
-questionable dignity of only having produced a leader tolerably skilled
-in the military tactics of his age.”[27]
-
-To return to the Wolfian theory. While it is to be confessed, that
-Wolf’s objections to the primitive integrity of the Iliad and Odyssey
-have never been wholly got over, we cannot help discovering that they
-have failed to enlighten us as to any substantial point, and that the
-difficulties with which the whole subject is beset, are rather
-augmented than otherwise, if we admit his hypothesis. Nor is
-Lachmann’s[28] modification of his theory any better. He divides the
-first twenty-two books of the Iliad into sixteen different songs, and
-treats as ridiculous the belief that their amalgamation into one
-regular poem belongs to a period earlier than the age of Peisistratus.
-This, as Grote observes, “explains the gaps and contradictions in the
-narrative, but it explains nothing else.” Moreover, we find no
-contradictions warranting this belief, and the so-called sixteen poets
-concur in getting rid of the following leading men in the first battle
-after the secession of Achilles: Elphenor, chief of the Eubœans;
-Tlepolemus, of the Rhodians; Pandarus, of the Lycians; Odius, of the
-Halizonians; Pirous and Acamas, of the Thracians. None of these heroes
-again make their appearance, and we can but agree with Colonel Mure,
-that “it seems strange that any number of independent poets should have
-so harmoniously dispensed with the services of all six in the sequel.”
-The discrepancy, by which Pylæmenes, who is represented as dead in the
-fifth book, weeps at his son’s funeral in the thirteenth, can only be
-regarded as the result of an interpolation.
-
-Grote, although not very distinct in stating his own opinions on the
-subject, has done much to clearly show the incongruity of the Wolfian
-theory, and of Lachmann’s modifications with the character of
-Peisistratus. But he has also shown, and we think with equal success,
-that the two questions relative to the primitive unity of these poems,
-or, supposing that impossible, the unison of these parts by
-Peisistratus, and not before his time, are essentially distinct. In
-short, “a man may believe the Iliad to have been put together out of
-pre-existing songs, without recognising the age of Peisistratus as the
-period of its first compilation.” The friends or literary _employês_ of
-Peisistratus must have found an Iliad that was already ancient, and the
-silence of the Alexandrine critics respecting the Peisistratic
-“recension,” goes far to prove, that, among the numerous manuscripts
-they examined, this was either wanting, or thought unworthy of
-attention.
-
-“Moreover,” he continues, “the whole tenor of the poems themselves
-confirms what is here remarked. There is nothing, either in the Iliad
-or Odyssey, which savours of modernism, applying that term to the age
-of Peisistratus—nothing which brings to our view the alterations
-brought about by two centuries, in the Greek language, the coined
-money, the habits of writing and reading, the despotisms and republican
-governments, the close military array, the improved construction of
-ships, the Amphiktyonic convocations, the mutual frequentation of
-religious festivals, the Oriental and Egyptian veins of religion, &c.,
-familiar to the latter epoch. These alterations Onomakritus, and the
-other literary friends of Peisistratus, could hardly have failed to
-notice, even without design, had they then, for the first time,
-undertaken the task of piecing together many self existent epics into
-one large aggregate. Everything in the two great Homeric poems, both in
-substance and in language, belongs to an age two or three centuries
-earlier than Peisistratus. Indeed, even the interpolations (or those
-passages which, on the best grounds, are pronounced to be such) betray
-no trace of the sixth century before Christ, and may well have been
-heard by Archilochus and Kallinus—in some cases even by Arktinus and
-Hesiod—as genuine Homeric matter.[29] As far as the evidences on the
-case, as well internal as external, enable us to judge, we seem
-warranted in believing that the Iliad and Odyssey were recited
-substantially as they now stand (always allowing for partial
-divergences of text and interpolations) in 776 B.C., our first
-trustworthy mark of Grecian time; and this ancient date, let it be
-added, as it is the best-authenticated fact, so it is also the most
-important attribute of the Homeric poems, considered in reference to
-Grecian history; for they thus afford us an insight into the
-anti-historical character of the Greeks, enabling us to trace the
-subsequent forward march of the nation, and to seize instructive
-contrasts between their former and their later condition.”[30]
-
-On the whole, I am inclined to believe, that the labours of
-Peisistratus were wholly of an editorial character, although, I must
-confess, that I can lay down nothing respecting the extent of his
-labours. At the same time, so far from believing that the composition
-or primary arrangement of these poems, in their present form, was the
-work of Peisistratus, I am rather persuaded that the fine taste and
-elegant mind of that Athenian[31] would lead him to preserve an ancient
-and traditional order of the poems, rather than to patch and
-re-construct them according to a fanciful hypothesis. I will not repeat
-the many discussions respecting whether the poems were written or not,
-or whether the art of writing was known in the time of their reputed
-author. Suffice it to say, that the more we read, the less satisfied we
-are upon either subject.
-
-I cannot, however, help thinking, that the story which attributes the
-preservation of these poems to Lycurgus, is little else than a version
-of the same story as that of Peisistratus, while its historical
-probability must be measured by that of many others relating to the
-Spartan Confucius.
-
-I will conclude this sketch of the Homeric theories, with an attempt,
-made by an ingenious friend, to unite them into something like
-consistency. It is as follows:—
-
-“No doubt the common soldiers of that age had, like the common sailors
-of some fifty years ago, some one qualified to ‘discourse in excellent
-music’ among them. Many of these, like those of the negroes in the
-United States, were extemporaneous, and allusive to events passing
-around them. But what was passing around them? The grand events of a
-spirit-stirring war; occurrences likely to impress themselves, as the
-mystical legends of former times had done, upon their memory; besides
-which, a retentive memory was deemed a virtue of the first water, and
-was cultivated accordingly in those ancient times. Ballads at first,
-and down to the beginning of the war with Troy, were merely
-recitations, with an intonation. Then followed a species of recitative,
-probably with an intoned burden. Tune next followed, as it aided the
-memory considerably.
-
-“It was at this period, about four hundred years after the war, that a
-poet flourished of the name of Melesigenes, or Mœonides, but most
-probably the former. He saw that these ballads might be made of great
-utility to his purpose of writing a poem on the social position of
-Hellas, and, as a collection, he published these lays, connecting them
-by a tale of his own. This poem now exists, under the title of the
-‘Odyssea.’ The author, however, did not affix his own name to the poem,
-which, in fact, was, great part of it, remodelled from the archaic
-dialect of Crete, in which tongue the ballads were found by him. He
-therefore called it the poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is
-rather a proof of his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging
-arrangement of other people’s ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed,
-arguing for the unity of authorship, ‘a great poet might have re-cast
-pre-existing separate songs into one comprehensive whole; but no mere
-arrangers or compilers would be competent to do so.’
-
-“While employed on the wild legend of Odysseus, he met with a ballad,
-recording the quarrel of Achilles and Agamemnon. His noble mind seized
-the hint that there presented itself, and the Achilleïs[32] grew under
-his hand. Unity of design, however, caused him to publish the poem
-under the same pseudonyme as his former work: and the disjointed lays
-of the ancient bards were joined together, like those relating to the
-Cid, into a chronicle history, named the Iliad. Melesigenes knew that
-the poem was destined to be a lasting one, and so it has proved; but,
-first, the poems were destined to undergo many vicissitudes and
-corruptions, by the people who took to singing them in the streets,
-assemblies, and agoras. However, Solôn first, and then Peisistratus,
-and afterwards Aristoteles and others, revised the poems, and restored
-the works of Melesigenes Homeros to their original integrity in a great
-measure.”[33]
-
-Having thus given some general notion of the strange theories which
-have developed themselves respecting this most interesting subject, I
-must still express my conviction as to the unity of the authorship of
-the Homeric poems. To deny that many corruptions and interpolations
-disfigure them, and that the intrusive hand of the poetasters may here
-and there have inflicted a wound more serious than the negligence of
-the copyist, would be an absurd and captious assumption, but it is to a
-higher criticism that we must appeal, if we would either understand or
-enjoy these poems. In maintaining the authenticity and personality of
-their one author, be he Homer or Melesigenes, _quocunque nomine vocari
-eum jus fasque sit_, I feel conscious that, while the whole weight of
-historical evidence is against the hypothesis which would assign these
-great works to a plurality of authors, the most powerful internal
-evidence, and that which springs from the deepest and most immediate
-impulse of the soul, also speaks eloquently to the contrary.
-
-The minutiæ of verbal criticism I am far from seeking to despise.
-Indeed, considering the character of some of my own books, such an
-attempt would be gross inconsistency. But, while I appreciate its
-importance in a philological view, I am inclined to set little store on
-its æsthetic value, especially in poetry. Three parts of the
-emendations made upon poets are mere alterations, some of which, had
-they been suggested to the author by his Mæcenas or Africanus, he
-would probably have adopted. Moreover, those who are most exact in
-laying down rules of verbal criticism and interpretation, are often
-least competent to carry out their own precepts. Grammarians are not
-poets by profession, but may be so _per accidens_. I do not at this
-moment remember two emendations on Homer, calculated to substantially
-improve the poetry of a passage, although a mass of remarks, from
-Herodotus down to Loewe, have given us the history of a thousand minute
-points, without which our Greek knowledge would be gloomy and jejune.
-
-But it is not on words only that grammarians, mere grammarians, will
-exercise their elaborate and often tiresome ingenuity. Binding down an
-heroic or dramatic poet to the block upon which they have previously
-dissected his words and sentences, they proceed to use the axe and the
-pruning knife by wholesale, and inconsistent in everything but their
-wish to make out a case of unlawful affiliation, they cut out book
-after book, passage after passage, till the author is reduced to a
-collection of fragments, or till those, who fancied they possessed the
-works of some great man, find that they have been put off with a vile
-counterfeit got up at second hand. If we compare the theories of
-Knight, Wolf, Lachmann, and others, we shall feel better satisfied of
-the utter uncertainty of criticism than of the apocryphal position of
-Homer. One rejects what another considers the turning-point of his
-theory. One cuts a supposed knot by expunging what another would
-explain by omitting something else.
-
-Nor is this morbid species of sagacity by any means to be looked upon
-as a literary novelty. Justus Lipsius, a scholar of no ordinary skill,
-seems to revel in the imaginary discovery, that the tragedies
-attributed to Seneca are by _four_ different authors.[34] Now, I will
-venture to assert, that these tragedies are so uniform, not only in
-their borrowed phraseology—a phraseology with which writers like
-Boethius and Saxo Grammaticus were more charmed than ourselves—in their
-freedom from real poetry, and last, but not least, in an ultra-refined
-and consistent abandonment of good taste, that few writers of the
-present day would question the capabilities of the same gentleman, be
-he Seneca or not, to produce not only these, but a great many more
-equally bad. With equal sagacity, Father Hardouin astonished the world
-with the startling announcement that the Æneid of Virgil, and the
-satires of Horace, were literary deceptions. Now, without wishing to
-say one word of disrespect against the industry and learning—nay, the
-refined acuteness—which scholars, like Wolf, have bestowed upon this
-subject, I must express my fears, that many of our modern Homeric
-theories will become matter for the surprise and entertainment, rather
-than the instruction, of posterity. Nor can I help thinking, that the
-literary history of more recent times will account for many points of
-difficulty in the transmission of the Iliad and Odyssey to a period so
-remote from that of their first creation.
-
-I have already expressed my belief that the labours of Peisistratus
-were of a purely editorial character; and there seems no more reason
-why corrupt and imperfect editions of Homer may not have been abroad in
-his day, than that the poems of Valerius Flaccus and Tibullus should
-have given so much trouble to Poggio, Scaliger, and others. But, after
-all, the main fault in all the Homeric theories is, that they demand
-too great a sacrifice of those feelings to which poetry most powerfully
-appeals, and which are its most fitting judges. The ingenuity which has
-sought to rob us of the name and existence of Homer, does too much
-violence to that inward emotion, which makes our whole soul yearn with
-love and admiration for the blind bard of Chios. To believe the author
-of the Iliad a mere compiler, is to degrade the powers of human
-invention; to elevate analytical judgment at the expense of the most
-ennobling impulses of the soul; and to forget the ocean in the
-contemplation of a polypus. There is a catholicity, so to speak, in the
-very name of Homer. Our faith in the author of the Iliad may be a
-mistaken one, but as yet nobody has taught us a better.
-
-While, however, I look upon the belief in Homer as one that has nature
-herself for its mainspring; while I can join with old Ennius in
-believing in Homer as the ghost, who, like some patron saint, hovers
-round the bed of the poet, and even bestows rare gifts from that wealth
-of imagination which a host of imitators could not exhaust,—still I am
-far from wishing to deny that the author of these great poems found a
-rich fund of tradition, a well-stocked mythical storehouse from whence
-he might derive both subject and embellishment. But it is one thing to
-_use_ existing romances in the embellishment of a poem, another to
-patch up the poem itself from such materials. What consistency of style
-and execution can be hoped for from such an attempt? or, rather, what
-bad taste and tedium will not be the infallible result?
-
-A blending of popular legends, and a free use of the songs of other
-bards, are features perfectly consistent with poetical originality. In
-fact, the most original writer is still drawing upon outward
-impressions—nay, even his own thoughts are a kind of secondary agents
-which support and feed the impulses of imagination. But unless there be
-some grand pervading principle—some invisible, yet most distinctly
-stamped archetypus of the great whole, a poem like the Iliad can never
-come to the birth. Traditions the most picturesque, episodes the most
-pathetic, local associations teeming with the thoughts of gods and
-great men, may crowd in one mighty vision, or reveal themselves in more
-substantial forms to the mind of the poet; but, except the power to
-create a grand whole, to which these shall be but as details and
-embellishments, be present, we shall have nought but a scrap-book, a
-parterre filled with flowers and weeds strangling each other in their
-wild redundancy: we shall have a cento of rags and tatters, which will
-require little acuteness to detect.
-
-Sensible as I am of the difficulty of disproving a negative, and aware
-as I must be of the weighty grounds there are for opposing my belief,
-it still seems to me that the Homeric question is one that is reserved
-for a higher criticism than it has often obtained. We are not by nature
-intended to know all things; still less, to compass the powers by which
-the greatest blessings of life have been placed at our disposal. Were
-faith no virtue, then we might indeed wonder why God willed our
-ignorance on any matter. But we are too well taught the contrary
-lesson; and it seems as though our faith should be especially tried
-touching the men and the events which have wrought most influence upon
-the condition of humanity. And there is a kind of sacredness attached
-to the memory of the great and the good, which seems to bid us repulse
-the scepticism which would allegorize their existence into a pleasing
-apologue, and measure the giants of intellect by an homeopathic
-dynameter.
-
-Long and habitual reading of Homer appears to familiarize our thoughts
-even to his incongruities; or rather, if we read in a right spirit and
-with a heartfelt appreciation, we are too much dazzled, too deeply
-wrapped in admiration of the whole, to dwell upon the minute spots
-which mere analysis can discover. In reading an heroic poem we must
-transform ourselves into heroes of the time being, we in imagination
-must fight over the same battles, woo the same loves, burn with the
-same sense of injury, as an Achilles or a Hector. And if we can but
-attain this degree of enthusiasm (and less enthusiasm will scarcely
-suffice for the reading of Homer), we shall feel that the poems of
-Homer are not only the work of one writer, but of the greatest writer
-that ever touched the hearts of men by the power of song.
-
-And it was this supposed unity of authorship which gave these poems
-their powerful influence over the minds of the men of old. Heeren, who
-is evidently little disposed in favour of modern theories, finely
-observes:—
-
-“It was Homer who formed the character of the Greek nation. No poet has
-ever, as a poet, exercised a similar influence over his countrymen.
-Prophets, lawgivers, and sages have formed the character of other
-nations; it was reserved to a poet to form that of the Greeks. This is
-a feature in their character which was not wholly erased even in the
-period of their degeneracy. When lawgivers and sages appeared in
-Greece, the work of the poet had already been accomplished; and they
-paid homage to his superior genius. He held up before his nation the
-mirror, in which they were to behold the world of gods and heroes no
-less than of feeble mortals, and to behold them reflected with purity
-and truth. His poems are founded on the first feeling of human nature;
-on the love of children, wife, and country; on that passion which
-outweighs all others, the love of glory. His songs were poured forth
-from a breast which sympathized with all the feelings of man; and
-therefore they enter, and will continue to enter, every breast which
-cherishes the same sympathies. If it is granted to his immortal spirit,
-from another heaven than any of which he dreamed on earth, to look down
-on his race, to see the nations from the fields of Asia to the forests
-of Hercynia, performing pilgrimages to the fountain which his magic
-wand caused to flow; if it is permitted to him to view the vast
-assemblage of grand, of elevated, of glorious productions, which had
-been called into being by means of his songs; wherever his immortal
-spirit may reside, this alone would suffice to complete his
-happiness.”[35]
-
-Can we contemplate that ancient monument, on which the “Apotheosis of
-Homer”[36] is depictured, and not feel how much of pleasing
-association, how much that appeals most forcibly and most distinctly to
-our minds, is lost by the admittance of any theory but our old
-tradition? The more we read, and the more we think—think as becomes the
-readers of Homer,—the more rooted becomes the conviction that the
-Father of Poetry gave us this rich inheritance, whole and entire.
-Whatever were the means of its preservation, let us rather be thankful
-for the treasury of taste and eloquence thus laid open to our use, than
-seek to make it a mere centre around which to drive a series of
-theories, whose wildness is only equalled by their inconsistency with
-each other.
-
-As the hymns, and some other poems usually ascribed to Homer, are not
-included in Pope’s translation, I will content myself with a brief
-account of the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, from the pen of a writer
-who has done it full justice[37]:—
-
-“This poem,” says Coleridge, “is a short mock-heroic of ancient date.
-The text varies in different editions, and is obviously disturbed and
-corrupt to a great degree; it is commonly said to have been a juvenile
-essay of Homer’s genius; others have attributed it to the same Pigrees,
-mentioned above, and whose reputation for humour seems to have invited
-the appropriation of any piece of ancient wit, the author of which was
-uncertain; so little did the Greeks, before the age of the Ptolemies,
-know or care about that department of criticism employed in determining
-the genuineness of ancient writings. As to this little poem being a
-youthful profusion of Homer, it seems sufficient to say that from the
-beginning to the end it is a plain and palpable parody, not only of the
-general spirit, but of the numerous passages of the Iliad itself; and
-even, if no such intention to parody were discernible in it, the
-objection would still remain, that to suppose a work of mere burlesque
-to be the primary effort of poetry in a simple age, seems to reverse
-that order in the development of national taste, which the history of
-every other people in Europe, and of many in Asia, has almost
-ascertained to be a law of the human mind; it is in a state of society
-much more refined and permanent than that described in the Iliad, that
-any popularity would attend such a ridicule of war and the gods as is
-contained in this poem; and the fact of there having existed three
-other poems of the same kind attributed, for aught we can see, with as
-much reason to Homer, is a strong inducement to believe that none of
-them were of the Homeric age. Knight infers from the usage of the word
-deltos, “writing tablet,” instead of διφθέρα, “skin,” which, according
-to Herod. 5, 58, was the material employed by the Asiatic Greeks for
-that purpose, that this poem was another offspring of Attic ingenuity;
-and generally that the familiar mention of the cock (v. 191) is a
-strong argument against so ancient a date for its composition.”
-
-Having thus given a brief account of the poems comprised in Pope’s
-design, I will now proceed to make a few remarks on his translation,
-and on my own purpose in the present edition.
-
-Pope was not a Grecian. His whole education had been irregular, and his
-earliest acquaintance with the poet was through the version of Ogilby.
-It is not too much to say that his whole work bears the impress of a
-disposition to be satisfied with the general sense, rather than to dive
-deeply into the minute and delicate features of language. Hence his
-whole work is to be looked upon rather as an elegant paraphrase than a
-translation. There are, to be sure, certain conventional anecdotes,
-which prove that Pope consulted various friends, whose classical
-attainments were sounder than his own, during the undertaking; but it
-is probable that these examinations were the result rather of the
-contradictory versions already existing, than of a desire to make a
-perfect transcript of the original. And in those days, what is called
-literal translation was less cultivated than at present. If something
-like the general sense could be decorated with the easy gracefulness of
-a practised poet; if the charms of metrical cadence and a pleasing
-fluency could be made consistent with a fair interpretation of the
-poet’s meaning, his _words_ were less jealously sought for, and those
-who could read so good a poem as Pope’s Iliad had fair reason to be
-satisfied.
-
-It would be absurd, therefore, to test Pope’s translation by our own
-advancing knowledge of the original text. We must be content to look at
-it as a most delightful work in itself,—a work which is as much a part
-of English literature as Homer himself is of Greek. We must not be torn
-from our kindly associations with the old Iliad, that once was our most
-cherished companion, or our most looked-for prize, merely because
-Buttmann, Loewe, and Liddell have made us so much more accurate as to
-ἀμφικύπελλον being an adjective, and not a substantive. Far be it from
-us to defend the faults of Pope, especially when we think of Chapman’s
-fine, bold, rough old English;—far be it from us to hold up his
-translation as what a translation of Homer _might_ be. But we can still
-dismiss Pope’s Iliad to the hands of our readers, with the
-consciousness that they must have read a very great number of books
-before they have read its fellow.
-
-As to the Notes accompanying the present volume, they are drawn up
-without pretension, and mainly with the view of helping the general
-reader. Having some little time since translated all the works of Homer
-for another publisher, I might have brought a large amount of
-accumulated matter, sometimes of a critical character, to bear upon the
-text. But Pope’s version was no field for such a display; and my
-purpose was to touch briefly on antiquarian or mythological allusions,
-to notice occasionally _some_ departures from the original, and to give
-a few parallel passages from our English Homer, Milton. In the latter
-task I cannot pretend to novelty, but I trust that my other
-annotations, while utterly disclaiming high scholastic views, will be
-found to convey as much as is wanted; at least, as far as the necessary
-limits of these volumes could be expected to admit. To write a
-commentary on Homer is not my present aim; but if I have made Pope’s
-translation a little more entertaining and instructive to a mass of
-miscellaneous readers, I shall consider my wishes satisfactorily
-accomplished.
-
-THEODORE ALOIS BUCKLEY.
-
-
-_Christ Church_.
-
-
-
-
-POPE’S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD OF HOMER
-
-
-Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest invention of any
-writer whatever. The praise of judgment Virgil has justly contested
-with him, and others may have their pretensions as to particular
-excellences; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a
-wonder if he has ever been acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most
-excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetry. It is the
-invention that, in different degrees, distinguishes all great geniuses:
-the utmost stretch of human study, learning, and industry, which
-masters everything besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes art
-with all her materials, and without it judgment itself can at best but
-“steal wisely:” for art is only like a prudent steward that lives on
-managing the riches of nature. Whatever praises may be given to works
-of judgment, there is not even a single beauty in them to which the
-invention must not contribute: as in the most regular gardens, art can
-only reduce beauties of nature to more regularity, and such a figure,
-which the common eye may better take in, and is, therefore, more
-entertained with. And, perhaps, the reason why common critics are
-inclined to prefer a judicious and methodical genius to a great and
-fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue
-their observations through a uniform and bounded walk of art, than to
-comprehend the vast and various extent of nature.
-
-Our author’s work is a wild paradise, where, if we cannot see all the
-beauties so distinctly as in an ordered garden, it is only because the
-number of them is infinitely greater. It is like a copious nursery,
-which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of
-which those who followed him have but selected some particular plants,
-each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things
-are too luxuriant it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if
-others are not arrived to perfection or maturity, it is only because
-they are overrun and oppressed by those of a stronger nature.
-
-It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute
-that unequalled fire and rapture which is so forcible in Homer, that no
-man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads him.
-What he writes is of the most animated nature imaginable; every thing
-moves, every thing lives, and is put in action. If a council be called,
-or a battle fought, you are not coldly informed of what was said or
-done as from a third person; the reader is hurried out of himself by
-the force of the poet’s imagination, and turns in one place to a
-hearer, in another to a spectator. The course of his verses resembles
-that of the army he describes,
-
-    Οἵδ’ ἄῤ ἴσαν, ὡσεί τε πυρὶ χθὼν πἆσα νέμοιτο.
-
-“They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it.” It
-is, however, remarkable, that his fancy, which is everywhere vigorous,
-is not discovered immediately at the beginning of his poem in its
-fullest splendour: it grows in the progress both upon himself and
-others, and becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity.
-Exact disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers,
-may have been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this “vivida
-vis animi,” in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect
-or neglected, this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even
-while we disapprove. Nay, where this appears, though attended with
-absurdities, it brightens all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing
-but its own splendour. This fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned
-as through a glass, reflected from Homer, more shining than fierce, but
-everywhere equal and constant: in Lucan and Statius it bursts out in
-sudden, short, and interrupted flashes: In Milton it glows like a
-furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour by the force of art: in
-Shakspeare it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental fire from
-heaven: but in Homer, and in him only, it burns everywhere clearly and
-everywhere irresistibly.
-
-I shall here endeavour to show how this vast invention exerts itself in
-a manner superior to that of any poet through all the main constituent
-parts of his work: as it is the great and peculiar characteristic which
-distinguishes him from all other authors.
-
-This strong and ruling faculty was like a powerful star, which, in the
-violence of its course, drew all things within its vortex. It seemed
-not enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole
-compass of nature, to supply his maxims and reflections; all the inward
-passions and affections of mankind, to furnish his characters: and all
-the outward forms and images of things for his descriptions: but
-wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and
-boundless walk for his imagination, and created a world for himself in
-the invention of fable. That which Aristotle calls “the soul of
-poetry,” was first breathed into it by Homer. I shall begin with
-considering him in his part, as it is naturally the first; and I speak
-of it both as it means the design of a poem, and as it is taken for
-fiction.
-
-
-Fable may be divided into the probable, the allegorical, and the
-marvellous. The probable fable is the recital of such actions as,
-though they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of nature;
-or of such as, though they did, became fables by the additional
-episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main story of
-an epic poem, “The return of Ulysses, the settlement of the Trojans in
-Italy,” or the like. That of the Iliad is the “anger of Achilles,” the
-most short and single subject that ever was chosen by any poet. Yet
-this he has supplied with a vaster variety of incidents and events, and
-crowded with a greater number of councils, speeches, battles, and
-episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those poems whose
-schemes are of the utmost latitude and irregularity. The action is
-hurried on with the most vehement spirit, and its whole duration
-employs not so much as fifty days. Virgil, for want of so warm a
-genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive subject, as well as
-a greater length of time, and contracting the design of both Homer’s
-poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The
-other epic poets have used the same practice, but generally carried it
-so far as to superinduce a multiplicity of fables, destroy the unity of
-action, and lose their readers in an unreasonable length of time. Nor
-is it only in the main design that they have been unable to add to his
-invention, but they have followed him in every episode and part of
-story. If he has given a regular catalogue of an army, they all draw up
-their forces in the same order. If he has funeral games for Patroclus,
-Virgil has the same for Anchises, and Statius (rather than omit them)
-destroys the unity of his actions for those of Archemorus. If Ulysses
-visit the shades, the Æneas of Virgil and Scipio of Silius are sent
-after him. If he be detained from his return by the allurements of
-Calypso, so is Æneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Armida. If Achilles be
-absent from the army on the score of a quarrel through half the poem,
-Rinaldo must absent himself just as long on the like account. If he
-gives his hero a suit of celestial armour, Virgil and Tasso make the
-same present to theirs. Virgil has not only observed this close
-imitation of Homer, but, where he had not led the way, supplied the
-want from other Greek authors. Thus the story of Sinon, and the taking
-of Troy, was copied (says Macrobius) almost word for word from
-Pisander, as the loves of Dido and Æneas are taken from those of Medea
-and Jason in Apollonius, and several others in the same manner.
-
-
-To proceed to the allegorical fable—If we reflect upon those
-innumerable knowledges, those secrets of nature and physical philosophy
-which Homer is generally supposed to have wrapped up in his allegories,
-what a new and ample scene of wonder may this consideration afford us!
-How fertile will that imagination appear, which was able to clothe all
-the properties of elements, the qualifications of the mind, the virtues
-and vices, in forms and persons, and to introduce them into actions
-agreeable to the nature of the things they shadowed! This is a field in
-which no succeeding poets could dispute with Homer, and whatever
-commendations have been allowed them on this head, are by no means for
-their invention in having enlarged his circle, but for their judgment
-in having contracted it. For when the mode of learning changed in the
-following ages, and science was delivered in a plainer manner, it then
-became as reasonable in the more modern poets to lay it aside, as it
-was in Homer to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy
-circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his time that demand
-upon him of so great an invention as might be capable of furnishing all
-those allegorical parts of a poem.
-
-
-The marvellous fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially
-the machines of the gods. If Homer was not the first who introduced the
-deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the religion of Greece, he seems
-the first who brought them into a system of machinery for poetry, and
-such a one as makes its greatest importance and dignity: for we find
-those authors who have been offended at the literal notion of the gods,
-constantly laying their accusation against Homer as the chief support
-of it. But whatever cause there might be to blame his machines in a
-philosophical or religious view, they are so perfect in the poetic,
-that mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: none have
-been able to enlarge the sphere of poetry beyond the limits he has set:
-every attempt of this nature has proved unsuccessful; and after all the
-various changes of times and religions, his gods continue to this day
-the gods of poetry.
-
-
-We come now to the characters of his persons; and here we shall find no
-author has ever drawn so many, with so visible and surprising a
-variety, or given us such lively and affecting impressions of them.
-Every one has something so singularly his own, that no painter could
-have distinguished them more by their features, than the poet has by
-their manners. Nothing can be more exact than the distinctions he has
-observed in the different degrees of virtues and vices. The single
-quality of courage is wonderfully diversified in the several characters
-of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and intractable; that of
-Diomede forward, yet listening to advice, and subject to command; that
-of Ajax is heavy and self-confiding; of Hector, active and vigilant:
-the courage of Agamemnon is inspirited by love of empire and ambition;
-that of Menelaus mixed with softness and tenderness for his people: we
-find in Idomeneus a plain direct soldier; in Sarpedon a gallant and
-generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing diversity to be
-found only in the principal quality which constitutes the main of each
-character, but even in the under parts of it, to which he takes care to
-give a tincture of that principal one. For example: the main characters
-of Ulysses and Nestor consist in wisdom; and they are distinct in this,
-that the wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural,
-open, and regular. But they have, besides, characters of courage; and
-this quality also takes a different turn in each from the difference of
-his prudence; for one in the war depends still upon caution, the other
-upon experience. It would be endless to produce instances of these
-kinds. The characters of Virgil are far from striking us in this open
-manner; they lie, in a great degree, hidden and undistinguished; and,
-where they are marked most evidently affect us not in proportion to
-those of Homer. His characters of valour are much alike; even that of
-Turnus seems no way peculiar, but, as it is, in a superior degree; and
-we see nothing that differences the courage of Mnestheus from that of
-Sergestus, Cloanthus, or the rest. In like manner it may be remarked of
-Statius’s heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs through them all; the
-same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus,
-Hippomedon, &c. They have a parity of character, which makes them seem
-brothers of one family. I believe when the reader is led into this
-tract of reflection, if he will pursue it through the epic and tragic
-writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior, in this point,
-the invention of Homer was to that of all others.
-
-
-The speeches are to be considered as they flow from the characters;
-being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the manners,
-of those who utter them. As there is more variety of characters in the
-Iliad, so there is of speeches, than in any other poem. “Everything in
-it has manner” (as Aristotle expresses it), that is, everything is
-acted or spoken. It is hardly credible, in a work of such length, how
-small a number of lines are employed in narration. In Virgil the
-dramatic part is less in proportion to the narrative, and the speeches
-often consist of general reflections or thoughts, which might be
-equally just in any person’s mouth upon the same occasion. As many of
-his persons have no apparent characters, so many of his speeches escape
-being applied and judged by the rule of propriety. We oftener think of
-the author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are engaged in
-Homer, all which are the effects of a colder invention, that interests
-us less in the action described. Homer makes us hearers, and Virgil
-leaves us readers.
-
-
-If, in the next place, we take a view of the sentiments, the same
-presiding faculty is eminent in the sublimity and spirit of his
-thoughts. Longinus has given his opinion, that it was in this part
-Homer principally excelled. What were alone sufficient to prove the
-grandeur and excellence of his sentiments in general, is, that they
-have so remarkable a parity with those of the Scripture. Duport, in his
-Gnomologia Homerica, has collected innumerable instances of this sort.
-And it is with justice an excellent modern writer allows, that if
-Virgil has not so many thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so
-many that are sublime and noble; and that the Roman author seldom rises
-into very astonishing sentiments where he is not fired by the Iliad.
-
-
-If we observe his descriptions, images, and similes, we shall find the
-invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast
-comprehension of images of every sort, where we see each circumstance
-of art, and individual of nature, summoned together by the extent and
-fecundity of his imagination to which all things, in their various
-views presented themselves in an instant, and had their impressions
-taken off to perfection at a heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full
-prospects of things, but several unexpected peculiarities and side
-views, unobserved by any painter but Homer. Nothing is so surprising as
-the descriptions of his battles, which take up no less than half the
-Iliad, and are supplied with so vast a variety of incidents, that no
-one bears a likeness to another; such different kinds of deaths, that
-no two heroes are wounded in the same manner, and such a profusion of
-noble ideas, that every battle rises above the last in greatness,
-horror, and confusion. It is certain there is not near that number of
-images and descriptions in any epic poet, though every one has assisted
-himself with a great quantity out of him; and it is evident of Virgil
-especially, that he has scarce any comparisons which are not drawn from
-his master.
-
-
-If we descend from hence to the expression, we see the bright
-imagination of Homer shining out in the most enlivened forms of it. We
-acknowledge him the father of poetical diction; the first who taught
-that “language of the gods” to men. His expression is like the
-colouring of some great masters, which discovers itself to be laid on
-boldly, and executed with rapidity. It is, indeed, the strongest and
-most glowing imaginable, and touched with the greatest spirit.
-Aristotle had reason to say, he was the only poet who had found out
-“living words;” there are in him more daring figures and metaphors than
-in any good author whatever. An arrow is “impatient” to be on the wing,
-a weapon “thirsts” to drink the blood of an enemy, and the like, yet
-his expression is never too big for the sense, but justly great in
-proportion to it. It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the
-diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it, for in the
-same degree that a thought is warmer, an expression will be brighter,
-as that is more strong, this will become more perspicuous; like glass
-in the furnace, which grows to a greater magnitude, and refines to a
-greater clearness, only as the breath within is more powerful, and the
-heat more intense.
-
-
-To throw his language more out of prose, Homer seems to have affected
-the compound epithets. This was a sort of composition peculiarly proper
-to poetry, not only as it heightened the diction, but as it assisted
-and filled the numbers with greater sound and pomp, and likewise
-conduced in some measure to thicken the images. On this last
-consideration I cannot but attribute these also to the fruitfulness of
-his invention, since (as he has managed them) they are a sort of
-supernumerary pictures of the persons or things to which they were
-joined. We see the motion of Hector’s plumes in the epithet
-Κορυθαίολος, the landscape of Mount Neritus in that of Εἰνοσίφυλλος,
-and so of others, which particular images could not have been insisted
-upon so long as to express them in a description (though but of a
-single line) without diverting the reader too much from the principal
-action or figure. As a metaphor is a short simile, one of these
-epithets is a short description.
-
-
-Lastly, if we consider his versification, we shall be sensible what a
-share of praise is due to his invention in that also. He was not
-satisfied with his language as he found it settled in any one part of
-Greece, but searched through its different dialects with this
-particular view, to beautify and perfect his numbers he considered
-these as they had a greater mixture of vowels or consonants, and
-accordingly employed them as the verse required either a greater
-smoothness or strength. What he most affected was the Ionic, which has
-a peculiar sweetness, from its never using contractions, and from its
-custom of resolving the diphthongs into two syllables, so as to make
-the words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous fluency.
-With this he mingled the Attic contractions, the broader Doric, and the
-feebler Æolic, which often rejects its aspirate, or takes off its
-accent, and completed this variety by altering some letters with the
-licence of poetry. Thus his measures, instead of being fetters to his
-sense, were always in readiness to run along with the warmth of his
-rapture, and even to give a further representation of his notions, in
-the correspondence of their sounds to what they signified. Out of all
-these he has derived that harmony which makes us confess he had not
-only the richest head, but the finest ear in the world. This is so
-great a truth, that whoever will but consult the tune of his verses,
-even without understanding them (with the same sort of diligence as we
-daily see practised in the case of Italian operas), will find more
-sweetness, variety, and majesty of sound, than in any other language of
-poetry. The beauty of his numbers is allowed by the critics to be
-copied but faintly by Virgil himself, though they are so just as to
-ascribe it to the nature of the Latin tongue: indeed the Greek has some
-advantages both from the natural sound of its words, and the turn and
-cadence of its verse, which agree with the genius of no other language.
-Virgil was very sensible of this, and used the utmost diligence in
-working up a more intractable language to whatsoever graces it was
-capable of, and, in particular, never failed to bring the sound of his
-line to a beautiful agreement with its sense. If the Grecian poet has
-not been so frequently celebrated on this account as the Roman, the
-only reason is, that fewer critics have understood one language than
-the other. Dionysius of Halicarnassus has pointed out many of our
-author’s beauties in this kind, in his treatise of the Composition of
-Words. It suffices at present to observe of his numbers, that they flow
-with so much ease, as to make one imagine Homer had no other care than
-to transcribe as fast as the Muses dictated, and, at the same time,
-with so much force and inspiriting vigour, that they awaken and raise
-us like the sound of a trumpet. They roll along as a plentiful river,
-always in motion, and always full; while we are borne away by a tide of
-verse, the most rapid, and yet the most smooth imaginable.
-
-
-Thus on whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us
-is his invention. It is that which forms the character of each part of
-his work; and accordingly we find it to have made his fable more
-extensive and copious than any other, his manners more lively and
-strongly marked, his speeches more affecting and transported, his
-sentiments more warm and sublime, his images and descriptions more full
-and animated, his expression more raised and daring, and his numbers
-more rapid and various. I hope, in what has been said of Virgil, with
-regard to any of these heads, I have no way derogated from his
-character. Nothing is more absurd or endless, than the common method of
-comparing eminent writers by an opposition of particular passages in
-them, and forming a judgment from thence of their merit upon the whole.
-We ought to have a certain knowledge of the principal character and
-distinguishing excellence of each: it is in that we are to consider
-him, and in proportion to his degree in that we are to admire him. No
-author or man ever excelled all the world in more than one faculty; and
-as Homer has done this in invention, Virgil has in judgment. Not that
-we are to think that Homer wanted judgment, because Virgil had it in a
-more eminent degree; or that Virgil wanted invention, because Homer
-possessed a larger share of it; each of these great authors had more of
-both than perhaps any man besides, and are only said to have less in
-comparison with one another. Homer was the greater genius, Virgil the
-better artist. In one we most admire the man, in the other the work.
-Homer hurries and transports us with a commanding impetuosity; Virgil
-leads us with an attractive majesty; Homer scatters with a generous
-profusion; Virgil bestows with a careful magnificence; Homer, like the
-Nile, pours out his riches with a boundless overflow; Virgil, like a
-river in its banks, with a gentle and constant stream. When we behold
-their battles, methinks the two poets resemble the heroes they
-celebrate. Homer, boundless and resistless as Achilles, bears all
-before him, and shines more and more as the tumult increases; Virgil,
-calmly daring, like Æneas, appears undisturbed in the midst of the
-action; disposes all about him, and conquers with tranquillity. And
-when we look upon their machines, Homer seems like his own Jupiter in
-his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the
-heavens: Virgil, like the same power in his benevolence, counselling
-with the gods, laying plans for empires, and regularly ordering his
-whole creation.
-
-
-But after all, it is with great parts, as with great virtues, they
-naturally border on some imperfection; and it is often hard to
-distinguish exactly where the virtue ends, or the fault begins. As
-prudence may sometimes sink to suspicion, so may a great judgment
-decline to coldness; and as magnanimity may run up to profusion or
-extravagance, so may a great invention to redundancy or wildness. If we
-look upon Homer in this view, we shall perceive the chief objections
-against him to proceed from so noble a cause as the excess of this
-faculty.
-
-
-Among these we may reckon some of his marvellous fictions, upon which
-so much criticism has been spent, as surpassing all the bounds of
-probability. Perhaps it may be with great and superior souls, as with
-gigantic bodies, which, exerting themselves with unusual strength,
-exceed what is commonly thought the due proportion of parts, to become
-miracles in the whole; and, like the old heroes of that make, commit
-something near extravagance, amidst a series of glorious and inimitable
-performances. Thus Homer has his “speaking horses;” and Virgil his
-“myrtles distilling blood;” where the latter has not so much as
-contrived the easy intervention of a deity to save the probability.
-
-
-It is owing to the same vast invention, that his similes have been
-thought too exuberant and full of circumstances. The force of this
-faculty is seen in nothing more, than in its inability to confine
-itself to that single circumstance upon which the comparison is
-grounded: it runs out into embellishments of additional images, which,
-however, are so managed as not to overpower the main one. His similes
-are like pictures, where the principal figure has not only its
-proportion given agreeable to the original, but is also set off with
-occasional ornaments and prospects. The same will account for his
-manner of heaping a number of comparisons together in one breath, when
-his fancy suggested to him at once so many various and correspondent
-images. The reader will easily extend this observation to more
-objections of the same kind.
-
-
-If there are others which seem rather to charge him with a defect or
-narrowness of genius, than an excess of it, those seeming defects will
-be found upon examination to proceed wholly from the nature of the
-times he lived in. Such are his grosser representations of the gods;
-and the vicious and imperfect manners of his heroes; but I must here
-speak a word of the latter, as it is a point generally carried into
-extremes, both by the censurers and defenders of Homer. It must be a
-strange partiality to antiquity, to think with Madame Dacier,[38] “that
-those times and manners are so much the more excellent, as they are
-more contrary to ours.” Who can be so prejudiced in their favour as to
-magnify the felicity of those ages, when a spirit of revenge and
-cruelty, joined with the practice of rapine and robbery, reigned
-through the world: when no mercy was shown but for the sake of lucre;
-when the greatest princes were put to the sword, and their wives and
-daughters made slaves and concubines? On the other side, I would not be
-so delicate as those modern critics, who are shocked at the servile
-offices and mean employments in which we sometimes see the heroes of
-Homer engaged. There is a pleasure in taking a view of that simplicity,
-in opposition to the luxury of succeeding ages: in beholding monarchs
-without their guards; princes tending their flocks, and princesses
-drawing water from the springs. When we read Homer, we ought to reflect
-that we are reading the most ancient author in the heathen world; and
-those who consider him in this light, will double their pleasure in the
-perusal of him. Let them think they are growing acquainted with nations
-and people that are now no more; that they are stepping almost three
-thousand years back into the remotest antiquity, and entertaining
-themselves with a clear and surprising vision of things nowhere else to
-be found, the only true mirror of that ancient world. By this means
-alone their greatest obstacles will vanish; and what usually creates
-their dislike, will become a satisfaction.
-
-This consideration may further serve to answer for the constant use of
-the same epithets to his gods and heroes; such as the “far-darting
-Phœbus,” the “blue-eyed Pallas,” the “swift-footed Achilles,” &c.,
-which some have censured as impertinent, and tediously repeated. Those
-of the gods depended upon the powers and offices then believed to
-belong to them; and had contracted a weight and veneration from the
-rites and solemn devotions in which they were used: they were a sort of
-attributes with which it was a matter of religion to salute them on all
-occasions, and which it was an irreverence to omit. As for the epithets
-of great men, Mons. Boileau is of opinion, that they were in the nature
-of surnames, and repeated as such; for the Greeks having no names
-derived from their fathers, were obliged to add some other distinction
-of each person; either naming his parents expressly, or his place of
-birth, profession, or the like: as Alexander the son of Philip,
-Herodotus of Halicarnassus, Diogenes the Cynic, &c. Homer, therefore,
-complying with the custom of his country, used such distinctive
-additions as better agreed with poetry. And, indeed, we have something
-parallel to these in modern times, such as the names of Harold
-Harefoot, Edmund Ironside, Edward Longshanks, Edward the Black Prince,
-&c. If yet this be thought to account better for the propriety than for
-the repetition, I shall add a further conjecture. Hesiod, dividing the
-world into its different ages, has placed a fourth age, between the
-brazen and the iron one, of “heroes distinct from other men; a divine
-race who fought at Thebes and Troy, are called demi-gods, and live by
-the care of Jupiter in the islands of the blessed.”[39] Now among the
-divine honours which were paid them, they might have this also in
-common with the gods, not to be mentioned without the solemnity of an
-epithet, and such as might be acceptable to them by celebrating their
-families, actions or qualities.
-
-What other cavils have been raised against Homer, are such as hardly
-deserve a reply, but will yet be taken notice of as they occur in the
-course of the work. Many have been occasioned by an injudicious
-endeavour to exalt Virgil; which is much the same, as if one should
-think to raise the superstructure by undermining the foundation: one
-would imagine, by the whole course of their parallels, that these
-critics never so much as heard of Homer’s having written first; a
-consideration which whoever compares these two poets ought to have
-always in his eye. Some accuse him for the same things which they
-overlook or praise in the other; as when they prefer the fable and
-moral of the Æneis to those of the Iliad, for the same reasons which
-might set the Odyssey above the Æneis; as that the hero is a wiser man,
-and the action of the one more beneficial to his country than that of
-the other; or else they blame him for not doing what he never designed;
-as because Achilles is not as good and perfect a prince as Æneas, when
-the very moral of his poem required a contrary character: it is thus
-that Rapin judges in his comparison of Homer and Virgil. Others select
-those particular passages of Homer which are not so laboured as some
-that Virgil drew out of them: this is the whole management of Scaliger
-in his Poetics. Others quarrel with what they take for low and mean
-expressions, sometimes through a false delicacy and refinement, oftener
-from an ignorance of the graces of the original, and then triumph in
-the awkwardness of their own translations: this is the conduct of
-Perrault in his Parallels. Lastly, there are others, who, pretending to
-a fairer proceeding, distinguish between the personal merit of Homer,
-and that of his work; but when they come to assign the causes of the
-great reputation of the Iliad, they found it upon the ignorance of his
-times, and the prejudice of those that followed; and in pursuance of
-this principle, they make those accidents (such as the contention of
-the cities, &c.) to be the causes of his fame, which were in reality
-the consequences of his merit. The same might as well be said of
-Virgil, or any great author whose general character will infallibly
-raise many casual additions to their reputation. This is the method of
-Mons. de la Mott; who yet confesses upon the whole that in whatever age
-Homer had lived, he must have been the greatest poet of his nation, and
-that he may be said in his sense to be the master even of those who
-surpassed him.
-
-In all these objections we see nothing that contradicts his title to
-the honour of the chief invention: and as long as this (which is indeed
-the characteristic of poetry itself) remains unequalled by his
-followers, he still continues superior to them. A cooler judgment may
-commit fewer faults, and be more approved in the eyes of one sort of
-critics: but that warmth of fancy will carry the loudest and most
-universal applauses which holds the heart of a reader under the
-strongest enchantment. Homer not only appears the inventor of poetry,
-but excels all the inventors of other arts, in this, that he has
-swallowed up the honour of those who succeeded him. What he has done
-admitted no increase, it only left room for contraction or regulation.
-He showed all the stretch of fancy at once; and if he has failed in
-some of his flights, it was but because he attempted everything. A work
-of this kind seems like a mighty tree, which rises from the most
-vigorous seed, is improved with industry, flourishes, and produces the
-finest fruit: nature and art conspire to raise it; pleasure and profit
-join to make it valuable: and they who find the justest faults, have
-only said that a few branches which run luxuriant through a richness of
-nature, might be lopped into form to give it a more regular appearance.
-
-Having now spoken of the beauties and defects of the original, it
-remains to treat of the translation, with the same view to the chief
-characteristic. As far as that is seen in the main parts of the poem,
-such as the fable, manners, and sentiments, no translator can prejudice
-it but by wilful omissions or contractions. As it also breaks out in
-every particular image, description, and simile, whoever lessens or too
-much softens those, takes off from this chief character. It is the
-first grand duty of an interpreter to give his author entire and
-unmaimed; and for the rest, the diction and versification only are his
-proper province, since these must be his own, but the others he is to
-take as he finds them.
-
-It should then be considered what methods may afford some equivalent in
-our language for the graces of these in the Greek. It is certain no
-literal translation can be just to an excellent original in a superior
-language: but it is a great mistake to imagine (as many have done) that
-a rash paraphrase can make amends for this general defect; which is no
-less in danger to lose the spirit of an ancient, by deviating into the
-modern manners of expression. If there be sometimes a darkness, there
-is often a light in antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a
-version almost literal. I know no liberties one ought to take, but
-those which are necessary to transfusing the spirit of the original,
-and supporting the poetical style of the translation: and I will
-venture to say, there have not been more men misled in former times by
-a servile, dull adherence to the letter, than have been deluded in ours
-by a chimerical, insolent hope of raising and improving their author.
-It is not to be doubted, that the fire of the poem is what a translator
-should principally regard, as it is most likely to expire in his
-managing: however, it is his safest way to be content with preserving
-this to his utmost in the whole, without endeavouring to be more than
-he finds his author is, in any particular place. It is a great secret
-in writing, to know when to be plain, and when poetical and figurative;
-and it is what Homer will teach us, if we will but follow modestly in
-his footsteps. Where his diction is bold and lofty, let us raise ours
-as high as we can; but where his is plain and humble, we ought not to
-be deterred from imitating him by the fear of incurring the censure of
-a mere English critic. Nothing that belongs to Homer seems to have been
-more commonly mistaken than the just pitch of his style: some of his
-translators having swelled into fustian in a proud confidence of the
-sublime; others sunk into flatness, in a cold and timorous notion of
-simplicity. Methinks I see these different followers of Homer, some
-sweating and straining after him by violent leaps and bounds (the
-certain signs of false mettle), others slowly and servilely creeping in
-his train, while the poet himself is all the time proceeding with an
-unaffected and equal majesty before them. However, of the two extremes
-one could sooner pardon frenzy than frigidity; no author is to be
-envied for such commendations, as he may gain by that character of
-style, which his friends must agree together to call simplicity, and
-the rest of the world will call dulness. There is a graceful and
-dignified simplicity, as well as a bold and sordid one; which differ as
-much from each other as the air of a plain man from that of a sloven:
-it is one thing to be tricked up, and another not to be dressed at all.
-Simplicity is the mean between ostentation and rusticity.
-
-This pure and noble simplicity is nowhere in such perfection as in the
-Scripture and our author. One may affirm, with all respect to the
-inspired writings, that the Divine Spirit made use of no other words
-but what were intelligible and common to men at that time, and in that
-part of the world; and, as Homer is the author nearest to those, his
-style must of course bear a greater resemblance to the sacred books
-than that of any other writer. This consideration (together with what
-has been observed of the parity of some of his thoughts) may, methinks,
-induce a translator, on the one hand, to give in to several of those
-general phrases and manners of expression, which have attained a
-veneration even in our language from being used in the Old Testament;
-as, on the other, to avoid those which have been appropriated to the
-Divinity, and in a manner consigned to mystery and religion.
-
-For a further preservation of this air of simplicity, a particular care
-should be taken to express with all plainness those moral sentences and
-proverbial speeches which are so numerous in this poet. They have
-something venerable, and as I may say, oracular, in that unadorned
-gravity and shortness with which they are delivered: a grace which
-would be utterly lost by endeavouring to give them what we call a more
-ingenious (that is, a more modern) turn in the paraphrase.
-
-Perhaps the mixture of some Græcisms and old words after the manner of
-Milton, if done without too much affectation, might not have an ill
-effect in a version of this particular work, which most of any other
-seems to require a venerable, antique cast. But certainly the use of
-modern terms of war and government, such as “platoon, campaign, junto,”
-or the like, (into which some of his translators have fallen) cannot be
-allowable; those only excepted without which it is impossible to treat
-the subjects in any living language.
-
-There are two peculiarities in Homer’s diction, which are a sort of
-marks or moles by which every common eye distinguishes him at first
-sight; those who are not his greatest admirers look upon them as
-defects, and those who are, seemed pleased with them as beauties. I
-speak of his compound epithets, and of his repetitions. Many of the
-former cannot be done literally into English without destroying the
-purity of our language. I believe such should be retained as slide
-easily of themselves into an English compound, without violence to the
-ear or to the received rules of composition, as well as those which
-have received a sanction from the authority of our best poets, and are
-become familiar through their use of them; such as “the
-cloud-compelling Jove,” &c. As for the rest, whenever any can be as
-fully and significantly expressed in a single word as in a compounded
-one, the course to be taken is obvious.
-
-Some that cannot be so turned, as to preserve their full image by one
-or two words, may have justice done them by circumlocution; as the
-epithet einosiphyllos to a mountain, would appear little or ridiculous
-translated literally “leaf-shaking,” but affords a majestic idea in the
-periphrasis: “the lofty mountain shakes his waving woods.” Others that
-admit of different significations, may receive an advantage from a
-judicious variation, according to the occasions on which they are
-introduced. For example, the epithet of Apollo, ἑκηβόλος or
-“far-shooting,” is capable of two explications; one literal, in respect
-of the darts and bow, the ensigns of that god; the other allegorical,
-with regard to the rays of the sun; therefore, in such places where
-Apollo is represented as a god in person, I would use the former
-interpretation; and where the effects of the sun are described, I would
-make choice of the latter. Upon the whole, it will be necessary to
-avoid that perpetual repetition of the same epithets which we find in
-Homer, and which, though it might be accommodated (as has been already
-shown) to the ear of those times, is by no means so to ours: but one
-may wait for opportunities of placing them, where they derive an
-additional beauty from the occasions on which they are employed; and in
-doing this properly, a translator may at once show his fancy and his
-judgment.
-
-As for Homer’s repetitions, we may divide them into three sorts: of
-whole narrations and speeches, of single sentences, and of one verse or
-hemistitch. I hope it is not impossible to have such a regard to these,
-as neither to lose so known a mark of the author on the one hand, nor
-to offend the reader too much on the other. The repetition is not
-ungraceful in those speeches, where the dignity of the speaker renders
-it a sort of insolence to alter his words; as in the messages from gods
-to men, or from higher powers to inferiors in concerns of state, or
-where the ceremonial of religion seems to require it, in the solemn
-forms of prayers, oaths, or the like. In other cases, I believe the
-best rule is, to be guided by the nearness, or distance, at which the
-repetitions are placed in the original: when they follow too close, one
-may vary the expression; but it is a question, whether a professed
-translator be authorized to omit any: if they be tedious, the author is
-to answer for it.
-
-It only remains to speak of the versification. Homer (as has been said)
-is perpetually applying the sound to the sense, and varying it on every
-new subject. This is indeed one of the most exquisite beauties of
-poetry, and attainable by very few: I only know of Homer eminent for it
-in the Greek, and Virgil in the Latin. I am sensible it is what may
-sometimes happen by chance, when a writer is warm, and fully possessed
-of his image: however, it may reasonably be believed they designed
-this, in whose verse it so manifestly appears in a superior degree to
-all others. Few readers have the ear to be judges of it: but those who
-have, will see I have endeavoured at this beauty.
-
-Upon the whole, I must confess myself utterly incapable of doing
-justice to Homer. I attempt him in no other hope but that which one may
-entertain without much vanity, of giving a more tolerable copy of him
-than any entire translation in verse has yet done. We have only those
-of Chapman, Hobbes, and Ogilby. Chapman has taken the advantage of an
-immeasurable length of verse, notwithstanding which, there is scarce
-any paraphrase more loose and rambling than his. He has frequent
-interpolations of four or six lines; and I remember one in the
-thirteenth book of the Odyssey, ver. 312, where he has spun twenty
-verses out of two. He is often mistaken in so bold a manner, that one
-might think he deviated on purpose, if he did not in other places of
-his notes insist so much upon verbal trifles. He appears to have had a
-strong affectation of extracting new meanings out of his author;
-insomuch as to promise, in his rhyming preface, a poem of the mysteries
-he had revealed in Homer; and perhaps he endeavoured to strain the
-obvious sense to this end. His expression is involved in fustian; a
-fault for which he was remarkable in his original writings, as in the
-tragedy of Bussy d’Amboise, &c. In a word, the nature of the man may
-account for his whole performance; for he appears, from his preface and
-remarks, to have been of an arrogant turn, and an enthusiast in poetry.
-His own boast, of having finished half the Iliad in less than fifteen
-weeks, shows with what negligence his version was performed. But that
-which is to be allowed him, and which very much contributed to cover
-his defects, is a daring fiery spirit that animates his translation,
-which is something like what one might imagine Homer himself would have
-writ before he arrived at years of discretion.
-
-Hobbes has given us a correct explanation of the sense in general; but
-for particulars and circumstances he continually lops them, and often
-omits the most beautiful. As for its being esteemed a close
-translation, I doubt not many have been led into that error by the
-shortness of it, which proceeds not from his following the original
-line by line, but from the contractions above mentioned. He sometimes
-omits whole similes and sentences; and is now and then guilty of
-mistakes, into which no writer of his learning could have fallen, but
-through carelessness. His poetry, as well as Ogilby’s, is too mean for
-criticism.
-
-It is a great loss to the poetical world that Mr. Dryden did not live
-to translate the Iliad. He has left us only the first book, and a small
-part of the sixth; in which if he has in some places not truly
-interpreted the sense, or preserved the antiquities, it ought to be
-excused on account of the haste he was obliged to write in. He seems to
-have had too much regard to Chapman, whose words he sometimes copies,
-and has unhappily followed him in passages where he wanders from the
-original. However, had he translated the whole work, I would no more
-have attempted Homer after him than Virgil: his version of whom
-(notwithstanding some human errors) is the most noble and spirited
-translation I know in any language. But the fate of great geniuses is
-like that of great ministers: though they are confessedly the first in
-the commonwealth of letters, they must be envied and calumniated only
-for being at the head of it.
-
-That which, in my opinion, ought to be the endeavour of any one who
-translates Homer, is above all things to keep alive that spirit and
-fire which makes his chief character: in particular places, where the
-sense can bear any doubt, to follow the strongest and most poetical, as
-most agreeing with that character; to copy him in all the variations of
-his style, and the different modulations of his numbers; to preserve,
-in the more active or descriptive parts, a warmth and elevation; in the
-more sedate or narrative, a plainness and solemnity; in the speeches, a
-fulness and perspicuity; in the sentences, a shortness and gravity; not
-to neglect even the little figures and turns on the words, nor
-sometimes the very cast of the periods; neither to omit nor confound
-any rites or customs of antiquity: perhaps too he ought to include the
-whole in a shorter compass than has hitherto been done by any
-translator who has tolerably preserved either the sense or poetry. What
-I would further recommend to him is, to study his author rather from
-his own text, than from any commentaries, how learned soever, or
-whatever figure they may make in the estimation of the world; to
-consider him attentively in comparison with Virgil above all the
-ancients, and with Milton above all the moderns. Next these, the
-Archbishop of Cambray’s Telemachus may give him the truest idea of the
-spirit and turn of our author; and Bossu’s admirable Treatise of the
-Epic Poem the justest notion of his design and conduct. But after all,
-with whatever judgment and study a man may proceed, or with whatever
-happiness he may perform such a work, he must hope to please but a few;
-those only who have at once a taste of poetry, and competent learning.
-For to satisfy such a want either, is not in the nature of this
-undertaking; since a mere modern wit can like nothing that is not
-modern, and a pedant nothing that is not Greek.
-
-What I have done is submitted to the public; from whose opinions I am
-prepared to learn; though I fear no judges so little as our best poets,
-who are most sensible of the weight of this task. As for the worst,
-whatever they shall please to say, they may give me some concern as
-they are unhappy men, but none as they are malignant writers. I was
-guided in this translation by judgments very different from theirs, and
-by persons for whom they can have no kindness, if an old observation be
-true, that the strongest antipathy in the world is that of fools to men
-of wit. Mr. Addison was the first whose advice determined me to
-undertake this task; who was pleased to write to me upon that occasion
-in such terms as I cannot repeat without vanity. I was obliged to Sir
-Richard Steele for a very early recommendation of my undertaking to the
-public. Dr. Swift promoted my interest with that warmth with which he
-always serves his friend. The humanity and frankness of Sir Samuel
-Garth are what I never knew wanting on any occasion. I must also
-acknowledge, with infinite pleasure, the many friendly offices, as well
-as sincere criticisms, of Mr. Congreve, who had led me the way in
-translating some parts of Homer. I must add the names of Mr. Rowe, and
-Dr. Parnell, though I shall take a further opportunity of doing justice
-to the last, whose good nature (to give it a great panegyric), is no
-less extensive than his learning. The favour of these gentlemen is not
-entirely undeserved by one who bears them so true an affection. But
-what can I say of the honour so many of the great have done me; while
-the first names of the age appear as my subscribers, and the most
-distinguished patrons and ornaments of learning as my chief
-encouragers? Among these it is a particular pleasure to me to find,
-that my highest obligations are to such who have done most honour to
-the name of poet: that his grace the Duke of Buckingham was not
-displeased I should undertake the author to whom he has given (in his
-excellent Essay), so complete a praise:
-
-“Read Homer once, and you can read no more;
-For all books else appear so mean, so poor,
-Verse will seem prose: but still persist to read,
-And Homer will be all the books you need.”
-
-
-That the Earl of Halifax was one of the first to favour me; of whom it
-is hard to say whether the advancement of the polite arts is more owing
-to his generosity or his example: that such a genius as my Lord
-Bolingbroke, not more distinguished in the great scenes of business,
-than in all the useful and entertaining parts of learning, has not
-refused to be the critic of these sheets, and the patron of their
-writer: and that the noble author of the tragedy of “Heroic Love” has
-continued his partiality to me, from my writing pastorals to my
-attempting the Iliad. I cannot deny myself the pride of confessing,
-that I have had the advantage not only of their advice for the conduct
-in general, but their correction of several particulars of this
-translation.
-
-I could say a great deal of the pleasure of being distinguished by the
-Earl of Carnarvon; but it is almost absurd to particularize any one
-generous action in a person whose whole life is a continued series of
-them. Mr. Stanhope, the present secretary of state, will pardon my
-desire of having it known that he was pleased to promote this affair.
-The particular zeal of Mr. Harcourt (the son of the late Lord
-Chancellor) gave me a proof how much I am honoured in a share of his
-friendship. I must attribute to the same motive that of several others
-of my friends: to whom all acknowledgments are rendered unnecessary by
-the privileges of a familiar correspondence; and I am satisfied I can
-no way better oblige men of their turn than by my silence.
-
-In short, I have found more patrons than ever Homer wanted. He would
-have thought himself happy to have met the same favour at Athens that
-has been shown me by its learned rival, the University of Oxford. And I
-can hardly envy him those pompous honours he received after death, when
-I reflect on the enjoyment of so many agreeable obligations, and easy
-friendships, which make the satisfaction of life. This distinction is
-the more to be acknowledged, as it is shown to one whose pen has never
-gratified the prejudices of particular parties, or the vanities of
-particular men. Whatever the success may prove, I shall never repent of
-an undertaking in which I have experienced the candour and friendship
-of so many persons of merit; and in which I hope to pass some of those
-years of youth that are generally lost in a circle of follies, after a
-manner neither wholly unuseful to others, nor disagreeable to myself.
-
-
-
-
-THE ILIAD.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK I.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.[40]
-
-
-THE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.
-
-
-In the war of Troy, the Greeks having sacked some of the neighbouring
-towns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryseïs and
-Briseïs, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the last to Achilles.
-Chryses, the father of Chryseïs, and priest of Apollo, comes to the
-Grecian camp to ransom her; with which the action of the poem opens, in
-the tenth year of the siege. The priest being refused, and insolently
-dismissed by Agamemnon, entreats for vengeance from his god; who
-inflicts a pestilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a council, and
-encourages Chalcas to declare the cause of it; who attributes it to the
-refusal of Chryseïs. The king, being obliged to send back his captive,
-enters into a furious contest with Achilles, which Nestor pacifies;
-however, as he had the absolute command of the army, he seizes on
-Briseïs in revenge. Achilles in discontent withdraws himself and his
-forces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, she
-supplicates Jupiter to render them sensible of the wrong done to her
-son, by giving victory to the Trojans. Jupiter, granting her suit,
-incenses Juno: between whom the debate runs high, till they are
-reconciled by the address of Vulcan.
-    The time of two-and-twenty days is taken up in this book: nine
-    during the plague, one in the council and quarrel of the princes,
-    and twelve for Jupiter’s stay with the Æthiopians, at whose return
-    Thetis prefers her petition. The scene lies in the Grecian camp,
-    then changes to Chrysa, and lastly to Olympus.
-
-
-Achilles’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring
-Of woes unnumber’d, heavenly goddess, sing!
-That wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy reign
-The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain;
-Whose limbs unburied on the naked shore,
-Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore.[41]
-Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,
-Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove![42]
-
-Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated hour[43]
-Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power
-Latona’s son a dire contagion spread,[44]
-And heap’d the camp with mountains of the dead;
-The king of men his reverent priest defied,[45]
-And for the king’s offence the people died.
-
-For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain
-His captive daughter from the victor’s chain.
-Suppliant the venerable father stands;
-Apollo’s awful ensigns grace his hands:
-By these he begs; and lowly bending down,
-Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown.
-He sued to all, but chief implored for grace
-The brother-kings, of Atreus’ royal race[46]
-
-“Ye kings and warriors! may your vows be crown’d,
-And Troy’s proud walls lie level with the ground.
-May Jove restore you when your toils are o’er
-Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.
-But, oh! relieve a wretched parent’s pain,
-And give Chryseïs to these arms again;
-If mercy fail, yet let my presents move,
-And dread avenging Phœbus, son of Jove.”
-
-The Greeks in shouts their joint assent declare,
-The priest to reverence, and release the fair.
-Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride,
-Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied:
-“Hence on thy life, and fly these hostile plains,
-Nor ask, presumptuous, what the king detains:
-
-Hence, with thy laurel crown, and golden rod,
-Nor trust too far those ensigns of thy god.
-Mine is thy daughter, priest, and shall remain;
-And prayers, and tears, and bribes, shall plead in vain;
-Till time shall rifle every youthful grace,
-And age dismiss her from my cold embrace,
-In daily labours of the loom employ’d,
-Or doom’d to deck the bed she once enjoy’d.
-Hence then; to Argos shall the maid retire,
-Far from her native soil and weeping sire.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HOMER INVOKING THE MUSE
-
-
-The trembling priest along the shore return’d,
-And in the anguish of a father mourn’d.
-Disconsolate, not daring to complain,
-Silent he wander’d by the sounding main;
-Till, safe at distance, to his god he prays,
-The god who darts around the world his rays.
-
-“O Smintheus! sprung from fair Latona’s line,[47]
-Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine,[48]
-Thou source of light! whom Tenedos adores,
-And whose bright presence gilds thy Chrysa’s shores.
-If e’er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane,[49]
-Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain;
-God of the silver bow! thy shafts employ,
-Avenge thy servant, and the Greeks destroy.”
-
-Thus Chryses pray’d:—the favouring power attends,
-And from Olympus’ lofty tops descends.
-Bent was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound;[50]
-Fierce as he moved, his silver shafts resound.
-Breathing revenge, a sudden night he spread,
-And gloomy darkness roll’d about his head.
-The fleet in view, he twang’d his deadly bow,
-And hissing fly the feather’d fates below.
-On mules and dogs the infection first began;[51]
-And last, the vengeful arrows fix’d in man.
-For nine long nights, through all the dusky air,
-The pyres, thick-flaming, shot a dismal glare.
-But ere the tenth revolving day was run,
-Inspired by Juno, Thetis’ godlike son
-Convened to council all the Grecian train;
-For much the goddess mourn’d her heroes slain.[52]
-The assembly seated, rising o’er the rest,
-Achilles thus the king of men address’d:
-
-“Why leave we not the fatal Trojan shore,
-And measure back the seas we cross’d before?
-The plague destroying whom the sword would spare,
-’Tis time to save the few remains of war.
-But let some prophet, or some sacred sage,
-Explore the cause of great Apollo’s rage;
-Or learn the wasteful vengeance to remove
-By mystic dreams, for dreams descend from Jove.[53]
-If broken vows this heavy curse have laid,
-Let altars smoke, and hecatombs be paid.
-So Heaven, atoned, shall dying Greece restore,
-And Phœbus dart his burning shafts no more.”
-
-He said, and sat: when Chalcas thus replied;
-Chalcas the wise, the Grecian priest and guide,
-That sacred seer, whose comprehensive view,
-The past, the present, and the future knew:
-Uprising slow, the venerable sage
-Thus spoke the prudence and the fears of age:
-
-“Beloved of Jove, Achilles! would’st thou know
-Why angry Phœbus bends his fatal bow?
-First give thy faith, and plight a prince’s word
-Of sure protection, by thy power and sword:
-For I must speak what wisdom would conceal,
-And truths, invidious to the great, reveal,
-Bold is the task, when subjects, grown too wise,
-Instruct a monarch where his error lies;
-For though we deem the short-lived fury past,
-’Tis sure the mighty will revenge at last.”
-To whom Pelides:—“From thy inmost soul
-Speak what thou know’st, and speak without control.
-E’en by that god I swear who rules the day,
-To whom thy hands the vows of Greece convey.
-And whose bless’d oracles thy lips declare;
-Long as Achilles breathes this vital air,
-No daring Greek, of all the numerous band,
-Against his priest shall lift an impious hand;
-Not e’en the chief by whom our hosts are led,
-The king of kings, shall touch that sacred head.”
-
-Encouraged thus, the blameless man replies:
-“Nor vows unpaid, nor slighted sacrifice,
-But he, our chief, provoked the raging pest,
-Apollo’s vengeance for his injured priest.
-Nor will the god’s awaken’d fury cease,
-But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase,
-Till the great king, without a ransom paid,
-To her own Chrysa send the black-eyed maid.[54]
-Perhaps, with added sacrifice and prayer,
-The priest may pardon, and the god may spare.”
-
-The prophet spoke: when with a gloomy frown
-The monarch started from his shining throne;
-Black choler fill’d his breast that boil’d with ire,
-And from his eye-balls flash’d the living fire:
-“Augur accursed! denouncing mischief still,
-Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill!
-Still must that tongue some wounding message bring,
-And still thy priestly pride provoke thy king?
-For this are Phœbus’ oracles explored,
-To teach the Greeks to murmur at their lord?
-For this with falsehood is my honour stain’d,
-Is heaven offended, and a priest profaned;
-Because my prize, my beauteous maid, I hold,
-And heavenly charms prefer to proffer’d gold?
-A maid, unmatch’d in manners as in face,
-Skill’d in each art, and crown’d with every grace;
-Not half so dear were Clytæmnestra’s charms,
-When first her blooming beauties bless’d my arms.
-Yet, if the gods demand her, let her sail;
-Our cares are only for the public weal:
-Let me be deem’d the hateful cause of all,
-And suffer, rather than my people fall.
-The prize, the beauteous prize, I will resign,
-So dearly valued, and so justly mine.
-But since for common good I yield the fair,
-My private loss let grateful Greece repair;
-Nor unrewarded let your prince complain,
-That he alone has fought and bled in vain.”
-“Insatiate king (Achilles thus replies),
-Fond of the power, but fonder of the prize!
-Would’st thou the Greeks their lawful prey should yield,
-The due reward of many a well-fought field?
-
-The spoils of cities razed and warriors slain,
-We share with justice, as with toil we gain;
-But to resume whate’er thy avarice craves
-(That trick of tyrants) may be borne by slaves.
-Yet if our chief for plunder only fight,
-The spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite,
-Whene’er, by Jove’s decree, our conquering powers
-Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers.”
-
-Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
-With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
-Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
-Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right.
-At thy demand shall I restore the maid?
-First let the just equivalent be paid;
-Such as a king might ask; and let it be
-A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
-Or grant me this, or with a monarch’s claim
-This hand shall seize some other captive dame.
-The mighty Ajax shall his prize resign;[55]
-Ulysses’ spoils, or even thy own, be mine.
-The man who suffers, loudly may complain;
-And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain.
-But this when time requires.—It now remains
-We launch a bark to plough the watery plains,
-And waft the sacrifice to Chrysa’s shores,
-With chosen pilots, and with labouring oars.
-Soon shall the fair the sable ship ascend,
-And some deputed prince the charge attend:
-This Creta’s king, or Ajax shall fulfil,
-Or wise Ulysses see perform’d our will;
-Or, if our royal pleasure shall ordain,
-Achilles’ self conduct her o’er the main;
-Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in his rage,
-The god propitiate, and the pest assuage.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] MARS
-
-
-At this, Pelides, frowning stern, replied:
-“O tyrant, arm’d with insolence and pride!
-Inglorious slave to interest, ever join’d
-With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind!
-What generous Greek, obedient to thy word,
-Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword?
-What cause have I to war at thy decree?
-The distant Trojans never injured me;
-To Phthia’s realms no hostile troops they led:
-Safe in her vales my warlike coursers fed;
-Far hence removed, the hoarse-resounding main,
-And walls of rocks, secure my native reign,
-Whose fruitful soil luxuriant harvests grace,
-Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race.
-Hither we sail’d, a voluntary throng,
-To avenge a private, not a public wrong:
-What else to Troy the assembled nations draws,
-But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother’s cause?
-Is this the pay our blood and toils deserve;
-Disgraced and injured by the man we serve?
-And darest thou threat to snatch my prize away,
-Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day?
-A prize as small, O tyrant! match’d with thine,
-As thy own actions if compared to mine.
-Thine in each conquest is the wealthy prey,
-Though mine the sweat and danger of the day.
-Some trivial present to my ships I bear:
-Or barren praises pay the wounds of war.
-But know, proud monarch, I’m thy slave no more;
-My fleet shall waft me to Thessalia’s shore:
-Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain,
-What spoils, what conquests, shall Atrides gain?”
-
-To this the king: “Fly, mighty warrior! fly;
-Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy.
-There want not chiefs in such a cause to fight,
-And Jove himself shall guard a monarch’s right.
-Of all the kings (the god’s distinguish’d care)
-To power superior none such hatred bear:
-Strife and debate thy restless soul employ,
-And wars and horrors are thy savage joy,
-If thou hast strength, ’twas Heaven that strength bestow’d;
-For know, vain man! thy valour is from God.
-Haste, launch thy vessels, fly with speed away;
-Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway;
-I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
-Thy short-lived friendship, and thy groundless hate.
-Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons:—but here[56]
-’Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear.
-Know, if the god the beauteous dame demand,
-My bark shall waft her to her native land;
-But then prepare, imperious prince! prepare,
-Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair:
-Even in thy tent I’ll seize the blooming prize,
-Thy loved Briseïs with the radiant eyes.
-Hence shalt thou prove my might, and curse the hour
-Thou stood’st a rival of imperial power;
-And hence, to all our hosts it shall be known,
-That kings are subject to the gods alone.”
-
-Achilles heard, with grief and rage oppress’d,
-His heart swell’d high, and labour’d in his breast;
-Distracting thoughts by turns his bosom ruled;
-Now fired by wrath, and now by reason cool’d:
-That prompts his hand to draw the deadly sword,
-Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty lord;
-This whispers soft his vengeance to control,
-And calm the rising tempest of his soul.
-Just as in anguish of suspense he stay’d,
-While half unsheathed appear’d the glittering blade,[57]
-Minerva swift descended from above,
-Sent by the sister and the wife of Jove
-(For both the princes claim’d her equal care);
-Behind she stood, and by the golden hair
-Achilles seized; to him alone confess’d;
-A sable cloud conceal’d her from the rest.
-He sees, and sudden to the goddess cries,
-Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] MINERVA REPRESSING THE FURY OF ACHILLES
-
-
-“Descends Minerva, in her guardian care,
-A heavenly witness of the wrongs I bear
-From Atreus’ son?—Then let those eyes that view
-The daring crime, behold the vengeance too.”
-
-“Forbear (the progeny of Jove replies)
-To calm thy fury I forsake the skies:
-Let great Achilles, to the gods resign’d,
-To reason yield the empire o’er his mind.
-By awful Juno this command is given;
-The king and you are both the care of heaven.
-The force of keen reproaches let him feel;
-But sheathe, obedient, thy revenging steel.
-For I pronounce (and trust a heavenly power)
-Thy injured honour has its fated hour,
-When the proud monarch shall thy arms implore,
-And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store.
-Then let revenge no longer bear the sway;
-Command thy passions, and the gods obey.”
-
-To her Pelides:—“With regardful ear,
-’Tis just, O goddess! I thy dictates hear.
-Hard as it is, my vengeance I suppress:
-Those who revere the gods the gods will bless.”
-He said, observant of the blue-eyed maid;
-Then in the sheath return’d the shining blade.
-The goddess swift to high Olympus flies,
-And joins the sacred senate of the skies.
-
-Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forsook,
-Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke:
-“O monster! mix’d of insolence and fear,
-Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer!
-When wert thou known in ambush’d fights to dare,
-Or nobly face the horrid front of war?
-’Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try;
-Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die:
-So much ’tis safer through the camp to go,
-And rob a subject, than despoil a foe.
-Scourge of thy people, violent and base!
-Sent in Jove’s anger on a slavish race;
-Who, lost to sense of generous freedom past,
-Are tamed to wrongs;—or this had been thy last.
-Now by this sacred sceptre hear me swear,
-Which never more shall leaves or blossoms bear,
-Which sever’d from the trunk (as I from thee)
-On the bare mountains left its parent tree;
-This sceptre, form’d by temper’d steel to prove
-An ensign of the delegates of Jove,
-From whom the power of laws and justice springs
-(Tremendous oath! inviolate to kings);
-By this I swear:—when bleeding Greece again
-Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain.
-When, flush’d with slaughter, Hector comes to spread
-The purpled shore with mountains of the dead,
-Then shalt thou mourn the affront thy madness gave,
-Forced to deplore when impotent to save:
-Then rage in bitterness of soul to know
-This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe.”
-
-He spoke; and furious hurl’d against the ground
-His sceptre starr’d with golden studs around:
-Then sternly silent sat. With like disdain
-The raging king return’d his frowns again.
-
-To calm their passion with the words of age,
-Slow from his seat arose the Pylian sage,
-Experienced Nestor, in persuasion skill’d;
-Words, sweet as honey, from his lips distill’d:[58]
-Two generations now had pass’d away,
-Wise by his rules, and happy by his sway;
-Two ages o’er his native realm he reign’d,
-And now the example of the third remain’d.
-All view’d with awe the venerable man;
-Who thus with mild benevolence began:—
-
-“What shame, what woe is this to Greece! what joy
-To Troy’s proud monarch, and the friends of Troy!
-That adverse gods commit to stern debate
-The best, the bravest, of the Grecian state.
-Young as ye are, this youthful heat restrain,
-Nor think your Nestor’s years and wisdom vain.
-A godlike race of heroes once I knew,
-Such as no more these aged eyes shall view!
-Lives there a chief to match Pirithous’ fame,
-Dryas the bold, or Ceneus’ deathless name;
-Theseus, endued with more than mortal might,
-Or Polyphemus, like the gods in fight?
-With these of old, to toils of battle bred,
-In early youth my hardy days I led;
-Fired with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds,
-And smit with love of honourable deeds,
-Strongest of men, they pierced the mountain boar,
-Ranged the wild deserts red with monsters’ gore,
-And from their hills the shaggy Centaurs tore:
-Yet these with soft persuasive arts I sway’d;
-When Nestor spoke, they listen’d and obey’d.
-If in my youth, even these esteem’d me wise;
-Do you, young warriors, hear my age advise.
-Atrides, seize not on the beauteous slave;
-That prize the Greeks by common suffrage gave:
-Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride;
-Let kings be just, and sovereign power preside.
-Thee, the first honours of the war adorn,
-Like gods in strength, and of a goddess born;
-Him, awful majesty exalts above
-The powers of earth, and sceptred sons of Jove.
-Let both unite with well-consenting mind,
-So shall authority with strength be join’d.
-Leave me, O king! to calm Achilles’ rage;
-Rule thou thyself, as more advanced in age.
-Forbid it, gods! Achilles should be lost,
-The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host.”
-
-This said, he ceased. The king of men replies:
-“Thy years are awful, and thy words are wise.
-But that imperious, that unconquer’d soul,
-No laws can limit, no respect control.
-Before his pride must his superiors fall;
-His word the law, and he the lord of all?
-Him must our hosts, our chiefs, ourself obey?
-What king can bear a rival in his sway?
-Grant that the gods his matchless force have given;
-Has foul reproach a privilege from heaven?”
-
-Here on the monarch’s speech Achilles broke,
-And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke:
-“Tyrant, I well deserved thy galling chain,
-To live thy slave, and still to serve in vain,
-Should I submit to each unjust decree:—
-Command thy vassals, but command not me.
-Seize on Briseïs, whom the Grecians doom’d
-My prize of war, yet tamely see resumed;
-And seize secure; no more Achilles draws
-His conquering sword in any woman’s cause.
-The gods command me to forgive the past:
-But let this first invasion be the last:
-For know, thy blood, when next thou darest invade,
-Shall stream in vengeance on my reeking blade.”
-
-At this they ceased: the stern debate expired:
-The chiefs in sullen majesty retired.
-
-Achilles with Patroclus took his way
-Where near his tents his hollow vessels lay.
-Meantime Atrides launch’d with numerous oars
-A well-rigg’d ship for Chrysa’s sacred shores:
-High on the deck was fair Chryseïs placed,
-And sage Ulysses with the conduct graced:
-Safe in her sides the hecatomb they stow’d,
-Then swiftly sailing, cut the liquid road.
-
-The host to expiate next the king prepares,
-With pure lustrations, and with solemn prayers.
-Wash’d by the briny wave, the pious train[59]
-Are cleansed; and cast the ablutions in the main.
-Along the shore whole hecatombs were laid,
-And bulls and goats to Phœbus’ altars paid;
-The sable fumes in curling spires arise,
-And waft their grateful odours to the skies.
-
-The army thus in sacred rites engaged,
-Atrides still with deep resentment raged.
-To wait his will two sacred heralds stood,
-Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
-“Haste to the fierce Achilles’ tent (he cries),
-Thence bear Briseïs as our royal prize:
-Submit he must; or if they will not part,
-Ourself in arms shall tear her from his heart.”
-
-The unwilling heralds act their lord’s commands;
-Pensive they walk along the barren sands:
-Arrived, the hero in his tent they find,
-With gloomy aspect on his arm reclined.
-At awful distance long they silent stand,
-Loth to advance, and speak their hard command;
-Decent confusion! This the godlike man
-Perceived, and thus with accent mild began:
-
-“With leave and honour enter our abodes,
-Ye sacred ministers of men and gods![60]
-I know your message; by constraint you came;
-Not you, but your imperious lord I blame.
-Patroclus, haste, the fair Briseïs bring;
-Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
-But witness, heralds, and proclaim my vow,
-Witness to gods above, and men below!
-But first, and loudest, to your prince declare
-(That lawless tyrant whose commands you bear),
-Unmoved as death Achilles shall remain,
-Though prostrate Greece shall bleed at every vein:
-The raging chief in frantic passion lost,
-Blind to himself, and useless to his host,
-Unskill’d to judge the future by the past,
-In blood and slaughter shall repent at last.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE DEPARTURE OF BRISEIS FROM THE TENT OF ACHILLES
-
-
-Patroclus now the unwilling beauty brought;
-She, in soft sorrows, and in pensive thought,
-Pass’d silent, as the heralds held her hand,
-And oft look’d back, slow-moving o’er the strand.
-Not so his loss the fierce Achilles bore;
-But sad, retiring to the sounding shore,
-O’er the wild margin of the deep he hung,
-That kindred deep from whence his mother sprung:[61]
-There bathed in tears of anger and disdain,
-Thus loud lamented to the stormy main:
-
-“O parent goddess! since in early bloom
-Thy son must fall, by too severe a doom;
-Sure to so short a race of glory born,
-Great Jove in justice should this span adorn:
-Honour and fame at least the thunderer owed;
-And ill he pays the promise of a god,
-If yon proud monarch thus thy son defies,
-Obscures my glories, and resumes my prize.”
-
-Far from the deep recesses of the main,
-Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign,
-The goddess-mother heard. The waves divide;
-And like a mist she rose above the tide;
-Beheld him mourning on the naked shores,
-And thus the sorrows of his soul explores.
-“Why grieves my son? Thy anguish let me share;
-Reveal the cause, and trust a parent’s care.”
-
-He deeply sighing said: “To tell my woe
-Is but to mention what too well you know.
-From Thebé, sacred to Apollo’s name[62]
-(Aëtion’s realm), our conquering army came,
-With treasure loaded and triumphant spoils,
-Whose just division crown’d the soldier’s toils;
-But bright Chryseïs, heavenly prize! was led,
-By vote selected, to the general’s bed.
-The priest of Phœbus sought by gifts to gain
-His beauteous daughter from the victor’s chain;
-The fleet he reach’d, and, lowly bending down,
-Held forth the sceptre and the laurel crown,
-Intreating all; but chief implored for grace
-The brother-kings of Atreus’ royal race:
-The generous Greeks their joint consent declare,
-The priest to reverence, and release the fair;
-Not so Atrides: he, with wonted pride,
-The sire insulted, and his gifts denied:
-The insulted sire (his god’s peculiar care)
-To Phœbus pray’d, and Phœbus heard the prayer:
-A dreadful plague ensues: the avenging darts
-Incessant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts.
-A prophet then, inspired by heaven, arose,
-And points the crime, and thence derives the woes:
-Myself the first the assembled chiefs incline
-To avert the vengeance of the power divine;
-Then rising in his wrath, the monarch storm’d;
-Incensed he threaten’d, and his threats perform’d:
-The fair Chryseïs to her sire was sent,
-With offer’d gifts to make the god relent;
-But now he seized Briseïs’ heavenly charms,
-And of my valour’s prize defrauds my arms,
-Defrauds the votes of all the Grecian train;[63]
-And service, faith, and justice, plead in vain.
-But, goddess! thou thy suppliant son attend.
-To high Olympus’ shining court ascend,
-Urge all the ties to former service owed,
-And sue for vengeance to the thundering god.
-Oft hast thou triumph’d in the glorious boast,
-That thou stood’st forth of all the ethereal host,
-When bold rebellion shook the realms above,
-The undaunted guard of cloud-compelling Jove:
-When the bright partner of his awful reign,
-The warlike maid, and monarch of the main,
-The traitor-gods, by mad ambition driven,
-Durst threat with chains the omnipotence of Heaven.
-Then, call’d by thee, the monster Titan came
-(Whom gods Briareus, men Ægeon name),
-Through wondering skies enormous stalk’d along;
-Not he that shakes the solid earth so strong:
-With giant-pride at Jove’s high throne he stands,
-And brandish’d round him all his hundred hands:
-The affrighted gods confess’d their awful lord,
-They dropp’d the fetters, trembled, and adored.[64]
-This, goddess, this to his remembrance call,
-Embrace his knees, at his tribunal fall;
-Conjure him far to drive the Grecian train,
-To hurl them headlong to their fleet and main,
-To heap the shores with copious death, and bring
-The Greeks to know the curse of such a king.
-Let Agamemnon lift his haughty head
-O’er all his wide dominion of the dead,
-And mourn in blood that e’er he durst disgrace
-The boldest warrior of the Grecian race.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THETIS CALLING BRIAREUS TO THE ASSISTANCE OF JUPITER
-
-
-“Unhappy son! (fair Thetis thus replies,
-While tears celestial trickle from her eyes)
-Why have I borne thee with a mother’s throes,
-To Fates averse, and nursed for future woes?[65]
-So short a space the light of heaven to view!
-So short a space! and fill’d with sorrow too!
-O might a parent’s careful wish prevail,
-Far, far from Ilion should thy vessels sail,
-And thou, from camps remote, the danger shun
-Which now, alas! too nearly threats my son.
-Yet (what I can) to move thy suit I’ll go
-To great Olympus crown’d with fleecy snow.
-Meantime, secure within thy ships, from far
-Behold the field, not mingle in the war.
-The sire of gods and all the ethereal train,
-On the warm limits of the farthest main,
-Now mix with mortals, nor disdain to grace
-The feasts of Æthiopia’s blameless race,[66]
-Twelve days the powers indulge the genial rite,
-Returning with the twelfth revolving light.
-Then will I mount the brazen dome, and move
-The high tribunal of immortal Jove.”
-
-The goddess spoke: the rolling waves unclose;
-Then down the steep she plunged from whence she rose,
-And left him sorrowing on the lonely coast,
-In wild resentment for the fair he lost.
-
-In Chrysa’s port now sage Ulysses rode;
-Beneath the deck the destined victims stow’d:
-The sails they furl’d, they lash the mast aside,
-And dropp’d their anchors, and the pinnace tied.
-Next on the shore their hecatomb they land;
-Chryseïs last descending on the strand.
-Her, thus returning from the furrow’d main,
-Ulysses led to Phœbus’ sacred fane;
-Where at his solemn altar, as the maid
-He gave to Chryses, thus the hero said:
-
-“Hail, reverend priest! to Phœbus’ awful dome
-A suppliant I from great Atrides come:
-Unransom’d, here receive the spotless fair;
-Accept the hecatomb the Greeks prepare;
-And may thy god who scatters darts around,
-Atoned by sacrifice, desist to wound.”[67]
-
-At this, the sire embraced the maid again,
-So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.
-Then near the altar of the darting king,
-Disposed in rank their hecatomb they bring;
-With water purify their hands, and take
-The sacred offering of the salted cake;
-While thus with arms devoutly raised in air,
-And solemn voice, the priest directs his prayer:
-
-“God of the silver bow, thy ear incline,
-Whose power incircles Cilla the divine;
-Whose sacred eye thy Tenedos surveys,
-And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguish’d rays!
-If, fired to vengeance at thy priest’s request,
-Thy direful darts inflict the raging pest:
-Once more attend! avert the wasteful woe,
-And smile propitious, and unbend thy bow.”
-
-So Chryses pray’d. Apollo heard his prayer:
-And now the Greeks their hecatomb prepare;
-Between their horns the salted barley threw,
-And, with their heads to heaven, the victims slew:[68]
-The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide;
-The thighs, selected to the gods, divide:
-On these, in double cauls involved with art,
-The choicest morsels lay from every part.
-The priest himself before his altar stands,
-And burns the offering with his holy hands.
-Pours the black wine, and sees the flames aspire;
-The youth with instruments surround the fire:
-The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dress’d,
-The assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest:
-Then spread the tables, the repast prepare;
-Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.
-When now the rage of hunger was repress’d,
-With pure libations they conclude the feast;
-The youths with wine the copious goblets crown’d,[69]
-And, pleased, dispense the flowing bowls around
-With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends,
-The pæans lengthen’d till the sun descends:
-The Greeks, restored, the grateful notes prolong;
-Apollo listens, and approves the song.
-
-’Twas night; the chiefs beside their vessel lie,
-Till rosy morn had purpled o’er the sky:
-Then launch, and hoist the mast: indulgent gales,
-Supplied by Phœbus, fill the swelling sails;
-The milk-white canvas bellying as they blow,
-The parted ocean foams and roars below:
-Above the bounding billows swift they flew,
-Till now the Grecian camp appear’d in view.
-Far on the beach they haul their bark to land,
-(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand,)
-Then part, where stretch’d along the winding bay,
-The ships and tents in mingled prospect lay.
-
-But raging still, amidst his navy sat
-The stern Achilles, stedfast in his hate;
-Nor mix’d in combat, nor in council join’d;
-But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind:
-In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll,
-And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul.
-
-Twelve days were past, and now the dawning light
-The gods had summon’d to the Olympian height:
-Jove, first ascending from the watery bowers,
-Leads the long order of ethereal powers.
-When, like the morning-mist in early day,
-Rose from the flood the daughter of the sea:
-And to the seats divine her flight address’d.
-There, far apart, and high above the rest,
-The thunderer sat; where old Olympus shrouds
-His hundred heads in heaven, and props the clouds.
-Suppliant the goddess stood: one hand she placed
-Beneath his beard, and one his knees embraced.
-“If e’er, O father of the gods! (she said)
-My words could please thee, or my actions aid,
-Some marks of honour on my son bestow,
-And pay in glory what in life you owe.
-Fame is at least by heavenly promise due
-To life so short, and now dishonour’d too.
-Avenge this wrong, O ever just and wise!
-Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise;
-Till the proud king and all the Achaian race
-Shall heap with honours him they now disgrace.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THETIS ENTREATING JUPITER TO HONOUR ACHILLES
-
-
-Thus Thetis spoke; but Jove in silence held
-The sacred counsels of his breast conceal’d.
-Not so repulsed, the goddess closer press’d,
-Still grasp’d his knees, and urged the dear request.
-“O sire of gods and men! thy suppliant hear;
-Refuse, or grant; for what has Jove to fear?
-Or oh! declare, of all the powers above,
-Is wretched Thetis least the care of Jove?”
-
-She said; and, sighing, thus the god replies,
-Who rolls the thunder o’er the vaulted skies:
-
-“What hast thou ask’d? ah, why should Jove engage
-In foreign contests and domestic rage,
-The gods’ complaints, and Juno’s fierce alarms,
-While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms?
-Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway
-With jealous eyes thy close access survey;
-But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped:
-Witness the sacred honours of our head,
-The nod that ratifies the will divine,
-The faithful, fix’d, irrevocable sign;
-This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows—”
-He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows,[70]
-Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,
-The stamp of fate and sanction of the god:
-High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,
-And all Olympus to the centre shook.[71]
-
-Swift to the seas profound the goddess flies,
-Jove to his starry mansions in the skies.
-The shining synod of the immortals wait
-The coming god, and from their thrones of state
-Arising silent, wrapp’d in holy fear,
-Before the majesty of heaven appear.
-Trembling they stand, while Jove assumes the throne,
-All, but the god’s imperious queen alone:
-Late had she view’d the silver-footed dame,
-And all her passions kindled into flame.
-“Say, artful manager of heaven (she cries),
-Who now partakes the secrets of the skies?
-Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate,
-In vain the partner of imperial state.
-What favourite goddess then those cares divides,
-Which Jove in prudence from his consort hides?”
-
-To this the thunderer: “Seek not thou to find
-The sacred counsels of almighty mind:
-Involved in darkness lies the great decree,
-Nor can the depths of fate be pierced by thee.
-What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know;
-The first of gods above, and men below;
-But thou, nor they, shall search the thoughts that roll
-Deep in the close recesses of my soul.”
-
-Full on the sire the goddess of the skies
-Roll’d the large orbs of her majestic eyes,
-And thus return’d:—“Austere Saturnius, say,
-From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway?
-Thy boundless will, for me, remains in force,
-And all thy counsels take the destined course.
-But ’tis for Greece I fear: for late was seen,
-In close consult, the silver-footed queen.
-Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny,
-Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky.
-What fatal favour has the goddess won,
-To grace her fierce, inexorable son?
-Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,
-And glut his vengeance with my people slain.”
-
-Then thus the god: “O restless fate of pride,
-That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide;
-Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorr’d,
-Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.
-Let this suffice: the immutable decree
-No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.
-Goddess, submit; nor dare our will withstand,
-But dread the power of this avenging hand:
-The united strength of all the gods above
-In vain resists the omnipotence of Jove.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VULCAN
-
-
-The thunderer spoke, nor durst the queen reply;
-A reverent horror silenced all the sky.
-The feast disturb’d, with sorrow Vulcan saw
-His mother menaced, and the gods in awe;
-Peace at his heart, and pleasure his design,
-Thus interposed the architect divine:
-“The wretched quarrels of the mortal state
-Are far unworthy, gods! of your debate:
-Let men their days in senseless strife employ,
-We, in eternal peace and constant joy.
-Thou, goddess-mother, with our sire comply,
-Nor break the sacred union of the sky:
-Lest, roused to rage, he shake the bless’d abodes,
-Launch the red lightning, and dethrone the gods.
-If you submit, the thunderer stands appeased;
-The gracious power is willing to be pleased.”
-
-Thus Vulcan spoke: and rising with a bound,
-The double bowl with sparkling nectar crown’d,[72]
-Which held to Juno in a cheerful way,
-“Goddess (he cried), be patient and obey.
-Dear as you are, if Jove his arm extend,
-I can but grieve, unable to defend.
-What god so daring in your aid to move,
-Or lift his hand against the force of Jove?
-Once in your cause I felt his matchless might,
-Hurl’d headlong down from the ethereal height;[73]
-Toss’d all the day in rapid circles round,
-Nor till the sun descended touch’d the ground.
-Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost;
-The Sinthians raised me on the Lemnian coast;[74]
-
-He said, and to her hands the goblet heaved,
-Which, with a smile, the white-arm’d queen received
-Then, to the rest he fill’d; and in his turn,
-Each to his lips applied the nectar’d urn,
-Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,
-And unextinguish’d laughter shakes the skies.
-
-Thus the blest gods the genial day prolong,
-In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song.[75]
-Apollo tuned the lyre; the Muses round
-With voice alternate aid the silver sound.
-Meantime the radiant sun to mortal sight
-Descending swift, roll’d down the rapid light:
-Then to their starry domes the gods depart,
-The shining monuments of Vulcan’s art:
-Jove on his couch reclined his awful head,
-And Juno slumber’d on the golden bed.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] JUPITER
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE APOTHEOSIS OF HOMER
-
-
-
-
-BOOK II.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE TRIAL OF THE ARMY, AND CATALOGUE OF THE FORCES.
-
-
-Jupiter, in pursuance of the request of Thetis, sends a deceitful
-vision to Agamemnon, persuading him to lead the army to battle, in
-order to make the Greeks sensible of their want of Achilles. The
-general, who is deluded with the hopes of taking Troy without his
-assistance, but fears the army was discouraged by his absence, and the
-late plague, as well as by the length of time, contrives to make trial
-of their disposition by a stratagem. He first communicates his design
-to the princes in council, that he would propose a return to the
-soldiers, and that they should put a stop to them if the proposal was
-embraced. Then he assembles the whole host, and upon moving for a
-return to Greece, they unanimously agree to it, and run to prepare the
-ships. They are detained by the management of Ulysses, who chastises
-the insolence of Thersites. The assembly is recalled, several speeches
-made on the occasion, and at length the advice of Nestor followed,
-which was to make a general muster of the troops, and to divide them
-into their several nations, before they proceeded to battle. This gives
-occasion to the poet to enumerate all the forces of the Greeks and
-Trojans, and in a large catalogue.
-    The time employed in this book consists not entirely of one day.
-    The scene lies in the Grecian camp, and upon the sea-shore; towards
-    the end it removes to Troy.
-
-
-Now pleasing sleep had seal’d each mortal eye,
-Stretch’d in the tents the Grecian leaders lie:
-The immortals slumber’d on their thrones above;
-All, but the ever-wakeful eyes of Jove.[76]
-To honour Thetis’ son he bends his care,
-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,[77]
-To Agamemnon’s ample tent repair.
-Bid him in arms draw forth the embattled train,
-Lead all his Grecians to the dusty plain.
-Declare, e’en now ’tis given him to destroy
-The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.
-For now no more the gods with fate contend,
-At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end.
-Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall,
-And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.”
-
-Swift as the word the vain illusion fled,
-Descends, and hovers o’er Atrides’ head;
-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 flattering dream deceives the king.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] JUPITER SENDING THE EVIL DREAM TO AGAMEMNON
-
-
-“Canst thou, with all a monarch’s cares oppress’d,
-O Atreus’ son! canst thou indulge thy rest?[78]
-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.[79]
-Monarch, awake! ’tis Jove’s command I bear;
-Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care.
-In just array draw forth the embattled train,
-Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain;
-E’en now, O king! ’tis given thee to destroy
-The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.
-For now no more the gods with fate contend,
-At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end.
-Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall,
-And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.
-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;
-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!
-Eager he rises, and in fancy hears
-The voice celestial murmuring in his ears.
-First on his limbs a slender vest he drew,
-Around him next the regal mantle threw,
-The embroider’d sandals on his feet were tied;
-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.
-The king despatch’d his heralds with commands
-To range the camp and summon all the bands:
-The gathering hosts the monarch’s word obey;
-While to the fleet Atrides bends his way.
-In his black ship the Pylian prince he found;
-There calls a senate of the peers around:
-The assembly placed, the king of men express’d
-The counsels labouring in his artful breast.
-
-“Friends and confederates! with attentive ear
-Receive my words, and credit what you hear.
-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.[80]
-The heavenly phantom hover’d o’er my head,
-‘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.
-Monarch, awake! ’tis Jove’s command I bear,
-Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care.
-In just array draw forth the embattled train,
-And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain;
-E’en now, O king! ’tis given thee to destroy
-The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.
-For now no more the gods with fate contend,
-At Juno’s suit the heavenly factions end.
-Destruction hangs o’er yon devoted wall,
-And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.
-
-This hear observant, and the gods obey!’
-The vision spoke, and pass’d in air away.
-Now, valiant chiefs! since heaven itself alarms,
-Unite, and rouse the sons of Greece to arms.
-But first, with caution, try what yet they dare,
-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,)
-“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, heaven! this warning should be lost!
-Then let us haste, obey the god’s alarms,
-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 following host,
-Pour’d forth by thousands, darkens all the coast.
-As from some rocky cleft the shepherd sees
-Clustering in heaps on heaps the driving bees,
-Rolling and blackening, swarms succeeding swarms,
-With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms;
-Dusky they spread, a close embodied crowd,
-And o’er the vale descends the living cloud.[81]
-So, from the tents and ships, a lengthen’d train
-Spreads all the beach, and wide o’ershades the plain:
-Along the region runs a deafening sound;
-Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground.
-Fame flies before the messenger of Jove,
-And shining soars, and claps her wings above.
-Nine sacred heralds now, proclaiming loud[82]
-The monarch’s will, suspend the listening crowd.
-Soon as the throngs in order ranged appear,
-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 flame,
-By Vulcan form’d, from Jove to Hermes came.
-To Pelops he the immortal gift resign’d;
-The 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,
-Subjects all Argos, and controls the main.[83]
-
-On this bright sceptre now the king reclined,
-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!
-Of partial Jove with justice I complain,
-And heavenly oracles believed in vain
-A safe return was promised to our toils,
-Renown’d, triumphant, and enrich’d with spoils.
-Now shameful flight alone can save the host,
-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.
-What shame to Greece a fruitful war to wage,
-Oh, lasting shame in every future age!
-Once great in arms, the common scorn we grow,
-Repulsed and baffled by a feeble foe.
-So small their number, that if wars were ceased,
-And Greece triumphant held a general feast,
-All rank’d by tens, whole decades when they dine
-Must want a Trojan slave to pour the wine.[84]
-But other forces have our hopes o’erthrown,
-And Troy prevails by armies not her own.
-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 insure the wretched power to fly.
-Haste, then, for ever leave the Trojan wall!
-Our weeping wives, our tender children call:
-Love, duty, safety, summon us away,
-’Tis nature’s voice, and nature we obey.
-Our shatter’d barks may yet transport us o’er,
-Safe and inglorious, to our native shore.
-Fly, Grecians, fly, your sails and oars employ,
-And dream no more of heaven-defended Troy.”
-
-His deep design unknown, the hosts approve
-Atrides’ speech. The mighty numbers move.
-So roll the billows to the Icarian shore,
-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,[85]
-Before the blast the lofty harvests bend:
-Thus o’er the field the moving host appears,
-With nodding plumes and groves of waving spears.
-The gathering murmur spreads, their trampling feet
-Beat the loose sands, and thicken to the fleet;
-With long-resounding cries they urge the train
-To fit the ships, and launch into the main.
-They toil, they sweat, thick clouds of dust arise,
-The doubling clamours echo to the skies.
-E’en then the Greeks had left the hostile plain,
-And fate decreed the fall of Troy in vain;
-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 adulterous spouse,
-In peace enjoy the fruits of broken vows?
-And bravest chiefs, in Helen’s quarrel slain,
-Lie unrevenged on yon detested plain?
-No: let my Greeks, unmoved by vain alarms,
-Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms.
-Haste, goddess, haste! the flying host detain,
-Nor let one sail be hoisted on the main.”
-
-Pallas obeys, and from Olympus’ height
-Swift to the ships precipitates her flight.
-Ulysses, first in public cares, she found,
-For prudent counsel like the gods renown’d:
-Oppress’d with generous grief the hero stood,
-Nor drew his sable vessels to the flood.
-“And is it thus, divine Laertes’ son,
-Thus fly the Greeks (the martial maid begun),
-Thus to their country bear their own disgrace,
-And fame eternal leave to Priam’s race?
-Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed,
-Still unrevenged, a thousand heroes bleed!
-Haste, generous Ithacus! prevent the shame,
-Recall your armies, and your chiefs reclaim.
-Your own resistless eloquence employ,
-And to the immortals trust the fall of Troy.”
-
-The voice divine confess’d the warlike maid,
-Ulysses heard, nor uninspired obey’d:
-Then meeting first Atrides, from his hand
-Received the imperial sceptre of command.
-Thus graced, attention and respect to gain,
-He runs, he flies through all the Grecian train;
-Each prince of name, or chief in arms approved,
-He fired with praise, or with persuasion moved.
-
-“Warriors like you, with strength and wisdom bless’d,
-By brave examples should confirm the rest.
-The monarch’s will not yet reveal’d appears;
-He tries our courage, but resents our fears.
-The unwary Greeks his fury may provoke;
-Not thus the king in secret council spoke.
-Jove loves our chief, from Jove his honour springs,
-Beware! for dreadful is the wrath of kings.”
-
-But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose,
-Him with reproof he check’d or 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 lumber of a land.
-Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow’d
-That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd.
-To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway;
-His are the laws, and him let all obey.”[86]
-
-With words like these the troops Ulysses ruled,
-The loudest silenced, and the fiercest cool’d.
-Back to the assembly roll the thronging train,
-Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain.
-Murmuring they move, as when old ocean roars,
-And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores;
-The groaning banks are burst with bellowing sound,
-The rocks remurmur and the deeps rebound.
-At length the tumult sinks, the noises cease,
-And a still silence lulls the camp to peace.
-Thersites only clamour’d in the throng,
-Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue:
-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:—
-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,
-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,
-Long had he lived the scorn of every 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,
-What moves the great Atrides to complain?
-’Tis thine whate’er the warrior’s breast inflames,
-The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames.
-With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow,
-Thy tents are crowded and thy chests o’erflow.
-Thus at full ease in heaps of riches roll’d,
-What grieves the monarch? Is it thirst of gold?
-Say, shall we march with our unconquer’d powers
-(The Greeks and I) to Ilion’s hostile towers,
-And bring the race of royal bastards here,
-For Troy to ransom at a price too dear?
-But safer plunder thy own host supplies;
-Say, wouldst thou seize some valiant leader’s prize?
-Or, if thy heart to generous love be led,
-Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed?
-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.
-We may be wanted on some busy day,
-When Hector comes: so great Achilles may:
-From him he forced the prize we jointly gave,
-From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
-And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong,
-This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long.”
-
-Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs,[87]
-In generous vengeance of the king of kings.
-With indignation sparkling in his eyes,
-He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies:
-
-“Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state,
-With wrangling talents form’d for foul debate:
-Curb that impetuous tongue, nor rashly vain,
-And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign.
-Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host,
-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 heavenly powers;
-Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.
-But grant the host with wealth the general load,
-Except detraction, what hast thou bestow’d?
-Suppose some hero should his spoils resign,
-Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine?
-Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore,
-And let these eyes behold my son no more;
-If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear
-To strip those arms thou ill deserv’st to wear,
-Expel the council where our princes meet,
-And send thee scourged and howling through the fleet.”
-
-He said, and cowering as the dastard bends,
-The weighty sceptre on his back descends.[88]
-On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise:
-The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes;
-Trembling he sat, and shrunk in abject fears,
-From his 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.
-Generous he rises in the crown’s defence,
-To curb the factious tongue of insolence,
-Such just examples on offenders shown,
-Sedition silence, and assert the throne.”
-
-’Twas thus the general voice the hero praised,
-Who, rising, high the imperial sceptre raised:
-The blue-eyed Pallas, his celestial friend,
-(In form a herald,) bade the crowds attend.
-The expecting crowds in still attention hung,
-To hear the wisdom of his heavenly tongue.
-Then deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke,
-His silence thus the prudent hero broke:
-
-“Unhappy monarch! whom the Grecian race
-With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace.
-Not such at Argos was their generous vow:
-Once all their voice, but ah! forgotten now:
-Ne’er to return, was then the common cry,
-Till Troy’s proud structures should in ashes lie.
-Behold them weeping for their native shore;
-What could their wives or helpless children more?
-What heart but melts to leave the tender train,
-And, one short month, endure the wintry main?
-Few leagues removed, we wish our peaceful seat,
-When the ship tosses, and the tempests beat:
-Then well may this long stay provoke their tears,
-The tedious length of nine revolving years.
-Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame;
-But vanquish’d! baffled! oh, eternal shame!
-Expect the time to Troy’s destruction given.
-And try the faith of Chalcas and of heaven.
-What pass’d at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,[89]
-And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air.
-Beside a fountain’s sacred brink we raised
-Our verdant altars, and the victims blazed:
-’Twas where the plane-tree spread its shades around,
-The altars heaved; 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;
-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 crush’d the crying young;
-While hovering near, with miserable moan,
-The drooping mother wail’d her children gone.
-The mother last, as round the nest she flew,
-Seized by the beating wing, the monster slew;
-Nor long survived: to marble turn’d, he stands
-A lasting prodigy on Aulis’ sands.
-Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare
-Trust in his omen, and support the war.
-For while around we gazed with wondering eyes,
-And trembling sought the powers with sacrifice,
-Full of his god, the reverend Chalcas cried,[90]
-‘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;
-But wait the tenth, for Ilion’s fall decreed:’
-Thus spoke the prophet, thus the Fates succeed.
-Obey, ye Grecians! with submission wait,
-Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate.”
-He said: the shores with loud applauses sound,
-The hollow ships each deafening shout rebound.
-Then Nestor thus—“These vain debates forbear,
-Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare.
-Where now are all your high resolves at last?
-Your leagues concluded, your engagements past?
-Vow’d with libations and with victims then,
-Now vanish’d like their smoke: the faith of men!
-While useless words consume the unactive hours,
-No wonder Troy so long resists our powers.
-Rise, great Atrides! and with courage sway;
-We march to war, if thou direct the way.
-But leave the few that dare resist thy laws,
-The mean deserters of the Grecian cause,
-To grudge the conquests mighty Jove prepares,
-And view with envy our successful wars.
-On that great day, when first the martial train,
-Big with the fate of Ilion, plough’d the main,
-Jove, on the right, a prosperous signal sent,
-And thunder rolling shook the firmament.
-Encouraged hence, maintain the glorious strife,
-Till every 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,
-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:[91]
-Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise.
-Among those counsels, let not mine be vain;
-In tribes and nations to divide thy train:
-His separate troops let every leader call,
-Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
-What chief, or soldier, of the numerous band,
-Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command,
-When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known
-And what the cause of Ilion not o’erthrown;
-If fate resists, or if our arms are slow,
-If gods above prevent, or men below.”
-
-To him the king: “How much thy years excel
-In arts of counsel, and in speaking well!
-O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree
-But ten such sages as they grant in thee;
-Such wisdom soon should Priam’s force destroy,
-And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy!
-But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates
-In fierce contention and in vain debates:
-Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws,
-By me provoked; a captive maid the cause:
-If e’er as friends we join, the Trojan wall
-Must shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall!
-But now, ye warriors, take a short repast;
-And, well refresh’d, to bloody conflict haste.
-His sharpen’d spear let every Grecian wield,
-And every Grecian fix his brazen shield,
-Let all excite the fiery steeds of war,
-And all for combat fit the rattling car.
-This day, this dreadful day, let each contend;
-No rest, no respite, till the shades descend;
-Till darkness, or till death, shall cover all:
-Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall;
-Till bathed in sweat be every 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.
-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,
-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;
-With hasty feasts they sacrifice, and pray,
-To avert the dangers of the doubtful day.
-A steer of five years’ age, large limb’d, and fed,[92]
-To Jove’s high altars Agamemnon led:
-There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers;
-And Nestor first, as most advanced in years.
-Next came Idomeneus,[93] and Tydeus’ son,[94]
-Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon;[95]
-Then wise Ulysses in his rank was placed;
-And Menelaus came, unbid, the last.[96]
-The chiefs surround the destined beast, and take
-The sacred offering of the salted cake:
-When thus the king prefers his solemn prayer;
-“O thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air,
-Who in the heaven of heavens hast fixed thy throne,
-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.
-In Hector’s breast be plunged this shining sword,
-And slaughter’d heroes groan around their lord!”
-
-Thus prayed the chief: his unavailing prayer
-Great Jove refused, and toss’d in empty air:
-The God averse, while yet the fumes arose,
-Prepared new toils, and doubled woes on woes.
-Their prayers perform’d the chiefs the rite pursue,
-The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew.
-The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide,
-The thighs, selected to the gods, divide.
-On these, in double cauls involved with art,
-The choicest morsels lie from every part,
-From the cleft wood the crackling flames aspire
-While the fat victims feed the sacred fire.
-The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dress’d
-The 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 generous Nestor thus the prince address’d.
-
-“Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms,
-And call the squadrons sheathed in brazen arms;
-Now seize the occasion, now the troops survey,
-And lead to war when heaven directs the way.”
-
-He said; the monarch issued his commands;
-Straight the loud heralds call the gathering bands;
-The chiefs inclose 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;
-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,
-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, through the lofty grove,
-The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above;
-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 the embodied cranes,
-Or milk-white swans in Asius’ watery plains.
-That, o’er the windings of Cayster’s springs,[97]
-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.
-Thus numerous and confused, extending wide,
-The legions crowd Scamander’s flowery side;[98]
-With rushing troops the plains are cover’d o’er,
-And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore.
-Along the river’s level meads they stand,
-Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land,
-Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play,
-The wandering nation of a summer’s day:
-That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours,
-In gather’d swarms surround the rural bowers;
-From pail to pail with busy murmur run
-The gilded legions, glittering in the sun.
-So throng’d, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood
-In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood.
-Each leader now his scatter’d force conjoins
-In close array, and forms the deepening lines.
-Not with more ease the skilful shepherd-swain
-Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain.
-The king of kings, majestically tall,
-Towers o’er his armies, and outshines them all;
-Like some proud bull, that round the pastures leads
-His subject herds, the monarch of the meads,
-Great as the gods, the exalted chief was seen,
-His strength like Neptune, and like Mars his mien;[99]
-Jove o’er his eyes celestial glories spread,
-And dawning conquest played around his head.
-
-Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine,
-All-knowing goddesses! immortal nine![100]
-Since earth’s wide regions, heaven’s umneasur’d height,
-And hell’s abyss, hide nothing from your sight,
-(We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below,
-But guess by rumour, and but boast we know,)
-O 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,
-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.
-
-THE CATALOGUE OF THE SHIPS.[101]
-
-
-[Illustration: ] NEPTUNE
-
-
-The hardy warriors whom Bœotia bred,
-Penelius, Leitus, Prothoënor, led:
-With these Arcesilaus and Clonius stand,
-Equal in arms, and equal in command.
-These head the troops that rocky Aulis yields,
-And Eteon’s hills, and Hyrie’s watery fields,
-And Schoenos, Scholos, Græa near the main,
-And Mycalessia’s ample piny plain;
-Those who in Peteon or Ilesion dwell,
-Or Harma where Apollo’s prophet fell;
-Heleon and Hylè, 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;
-Copæ, and Thisbè, famed for silver doves;
-For flocks Erythræ, Glissa for the vine;
-Platea green, and Nysa the divine;
-And they whom Thebé’s well-built walls inclose,
-Where Mydè, Eutresis, Coronè, rose;
-And Arnè rich, with purple harvests crown’d;
-And Anthedon, Bœotia’s utmost bound.
-Full fifty ships they send, and each conveys
-Twice sixty warriors through the foaming seas.[102]
-
-To these succeed Aspledon’s martial train,
-Who plough the spacious Orchomenian plain.
-Two valiant brothers rule the undaunted throng,
-Iälmen and Ascalaphus the strong:
-Sons of Astyochè, the heavenly fair,
-Whose virgin charms subdued the god of war:
-(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;
-Epistrophus and Schedius head the war:
-From those rich regions where Cephisus leads
-His silver current through the flowery meads;
-From Panopëa, Chrysa the divine,
-Where Anemoria’s stately turrets shine,
-Where Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus stood,
-And fair Lilæ 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,
-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;
-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.
-
-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;
-The Isteian fields for generous vines renown’d,
-The fair Caristos, and the Styrian ground;
-Where Dios from her towers o’erlooks the plain,
-And high Cerinthus views the neighbouring main.
-Down their broad shoulders falls a length of hair;
-Their hands dismiss not the long lance in air;
-But with protended spears in fighting fields
-Pierce the tough corslets 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,
-Led by Menestheus through 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 foodful earth.
-Him Pallas placed amidst her wealthy fane,
-Adored 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,
-To marshal armies in the dusty field,
-The extended wings of battle to display,
-Or close the embodied host in firm array.
-Nestor alone, improved by length of days,
-For martial conduct bore an equal praise.
-
-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 generous Argive train,
-From high Trœzenè, and Maseta’s plain,
-And fair Ægina circled by the main:
-Whom strong Tyrinthe’s lofty walls surround,
-And Epidaure with viny harvests crown’d:
-And where fair Asinen and Hermoin show
-Their cliffs above, and ample bay below.
-These by the brave Euryalus were led,
-Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed;
-But chief Tydides bore the sovereign sway:
-In fourscore barks they plough the watery way.
-
-The proud Mycenè arms her martial powers,
-Cleonè, Corinth, with imperial towers,[103]
-Fair Aræthyrea, Ornia’s fruitful plain,
-And Ægion, and Adrastus’ ancient reign;
-And those who dwell along the sandy shore,
-And where Pellenè yields her fleecy store,
-Where Helicè and Hyperesia lie,
-And Gonoëssa’s spires salute the sky.
-Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band,
-A hundred vessels in long order stand,
-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.
-
-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 inclose;
-Or Messé’s towers for silver doves renown’d,
-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:
-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,
-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 Alpheus’ streams inclose:
-And Dorion, famed for Thamyris’ disgrace,
-Superior once of all the tuneful race,
-Till, vain of mortals’ empty praise, he strove
-To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove!
-Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride
-The immortal Muses in their art defied.
-The avenging Muses of the light of day
-Deprived his eyes, and snatch’d his voice away;
-No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing,
-His hand no more awaked the silver string.
-
-Where under high Cyllenè, crown’d with wood,
-The shaded tomb of old Æpytus stood;
-From Ripè, Stratie, Tegea’s bordering towns,
-The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs,
-Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove;
-And Stymphelus with her surrounding grove;
-Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclined,
-And high Enispè shook by wintry wind,
-And fair Mantinea’s ever-pleasing site;
-In sixty sail the Arcadian bands unite.
-Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head,
-(Ancæus’ son) the mighty squadron led.
-Their ships, supplied by Agamemnon’s care,
-Through roaring seas the wondering warriors bear;
-The first to battle on the appointed plain,
-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
-The Olenian rock; and where Alisium flows;
-Beneath four chiefs (a numerous army) came:
-The strength and glory of the Epean name.
-In separate squadrons these their train divide,
-Each leads ten vessels through the yielding tide.
-One was Amphimachus, and Thalpius one;
-(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 the Echinades,
-In forty vessels under Meges move,
-Begot by Phyleus, the beloved of Jove:
-To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled,
-And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led.
-
-Ulysses follow’d through the watery road,
-A chief, in wisdom equal to a god.
-With those whom Cephalenia’s line inclosed,
-Or till their fields along the coast opposed;
-Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the floods,
-Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods,
-Where Ægilipa’s rugged sides are seen,
-Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green.
-These in twelve galleys with vermilion prores,
-Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores.
-
-Thoas came next, Andræmon’s valiant son,
-From Pleuron’s walls, and chalky Calydon,
-And rough Pylene, and the Olenian steep,
-And Chalcis, beaten by the rolling deep.
-He led the warriors from the Ætolian shore,
-For now the sons of Œneus were no more!
-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 through the main.
-
-Next, eighty barks the Cretan king commands,
-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.
-These march’d, Idomeneus, beneath thy care,
-And Merion, dreadful as the god of war.
-
-Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules,
-Led nine swift vessels through the foamy seas,
-From Rhodes, with everlasting sunshine bright,
-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.
-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 the Herculean race,
-A fleet he built, and with a numerous train
-Of willing exiles wander’d o’er the main;
-Where, many seas and many sufferings 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;
-Increased 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,
-Nireus, whom Agäle to Charopus bore,
-Nireus, in faultless shape and blooming grace,
-The loveliest youth of all the Grecian race;[104]
-Pelides only match’d his early charms;
-But few his troops, and small his strength in arms.
-
-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,
-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, Alopé, and Trechin’s towers:
-From Phthia’s spacious vales; and Hella, bless’d
-With female beauty far beyond the rest.
-Full fifty ships beneath Achilles’ care,
-The Achaians, Myrmidons, Hellenians bear;
-Thessalians all, though various in their name;
-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 the angry leader lay;
-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,
-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.
-Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming flowerets crown’d,
-And Antron’s watery 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,
-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,
-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 incircle Bœbe’s lowly lake,
-Where Phære hears the neighbouring waters fall,
-Or proud Iölcus 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,
-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.
-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 poisonous hydra gave the burning wound;
-There groan’d the chief in agonizing pain,
-Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in vain.
-His forces Medon led from Lemnos’ shore,
-Oïleus’ son, whom beauteous Rhena bore.
-
-The Œchalian race, in those high towers contain’d
-Where once Eurytus in proud triumph reign’d,
-Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears,
-Or where Ithome, rough with rocks, appears,
-In thirty sail the sparkling waves divide,
-Which Podalirius and Machaon guide.
-To these his skill their parent-god imparts,
-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.
-Thy troops, Argissa, Polypœtes leads,
-And Eleon, shelter’d by Olympus’ shades,
-Gyrtonè’s warriors; and where Orthè lies,
-And Oloösson’s chalky cliffs arise.
-Sprung from Pirithous of immortal race,
-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.
-
-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,
-And into Peneus rolls his easy tides;
-Yet o’er the silvery 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!
-
-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 through flowery Tempe Peneus stray’d:
-(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?
-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,
-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 through the war.
-Ajax in arms the first renown acquired,
-While stern Achilles in his wrath retired:
-(His was the strength that mortal might exceeds,
-And his the unrivall’d race of heavenly steeds:)
-But Thetis’ son now shines in arms no more;
-His troops, neglected on the sandy shore.
-In empty air their sportive javelins throw,
-Or whirl the disk, or bend an idle bow:
-Unstain’d with blood his cover’d chariots stand;
-The immortal coursers graze along the strand;
-But the brave chiefs the inglorious life deplored,
-And, wandering o’er the camp, required their lord.
-
-Now, like a deluge, covering all around,
-The shining armies sweep along the ground;
-Swift as a flood of fire, when storms arise,
-Floats the wild field, and blazes to the skies.
-Earth groan’d beneath them; as when angry Jove
-Hurls down the forky lightning from above,
-On Arimé when he the thunder throws,
-And fires Typhœus with redoubled blows,
-Where Typhon, press’d beneath the burning load,
-Still feels the fury of the avenging god.
-
-But various Iris, Jove’s commands to bear,
-Speeds on the wings of winds through 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,
-Who from Æsetes’ tomb observed the foes,[105]
-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
-The unwelcome message to the Phrygian king.
-
-“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,
-The moving squadrons blacken all the strand.
-Thou, godlike Hector! all thy force employ,
-Assemble all the united bands of Troy;
-In just array let every leader call
-The foreign troops: this day demands them all!”
-
-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:
-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 the immortals know,
-Though call’d Bateïa in the world below;)
-Beneath their chiefs in martial order here,
-The 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 repair,
-And groves of lances glitter in the air.
-
-Divine Æneas brings the Dardan race,
-Anchises’ son, by Venus’ stolen embrace,
-Born in the shades of Ida’s secret grove;
-(A mortal mixing with the queen of love;)
-Archilochus and Acamas divide
-The warrior’s toils, and combat by his side.
-
-Who fair Zeleia’s wealthy valleys till,[106]
-Fast by the foot of Ida’s sacred hill,
-Or drink, Æsepus, of thy sable flood,
-Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood;
-To whom his art Apollo deign’d to show,
-Graced with the presents of his shafts and bow.
-
-From rich Apæsus and Adrestia’s towers,
-High Teree’s summits, and Pityea’s bowers;
-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,
-They rush’d to war, and perish’d on the plain.
-
-From Practius’ stream, Percotè’s pasture lands,
-And Sestos and Abydos’ neighbouring strands,
-From great Arisba’s walls and Sellè’s coast,
-Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host:
-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,
-Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine.
-
-Next Acamas and Pyrous lead their hosts,
-In dread array, from Thracia’s wintry coasts;
-Round the bleak realms where Hellespontus roars,
-And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding shores.
-
-With great Euphemus the Ciconians move,
-Sprung from Trœzenian Ceüs, loved 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,
-Axius, that laves the distant Amydon,
-Axius, that swells with all his neighbouring rills,
-And wide around the floating region fills.
-
-The Paphlagonians Pylæmenes rules,
-Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules,
-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 through banks of flowers,
-Reflects her bordering 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.
-
-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.
-
-Phorcys 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 Mæander flows,
-High Mycale, and Latmos’ shady brows,
-And proud Miletus, came the Carian throngs,
-With mingled clamours and with barbarous tongues.[107]
-Amphimachus and Naustes guide the train,
-Naustes 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 seized the golden prize.
-
-The forces last in fair array succeed,
-Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead
-The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields,
-Where gulfy Xanthus foams along the fields.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK III.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE DUEL OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.
-
-
-The 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 Helen to behold the
-fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam sat with his
-counsellers 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 ensues;
-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 leaders’ care each martial band
-Moves into ranks, and stretches o’er the land.
-With shouts the Trojans, rushing from afar,
-Proclaim their motions, and provoke the war.
-So when inclement winters vex the plain
-With piercing frosts, or thick-descending rain,
-To warmer seas the cranes embodied fly,[108]
-With noise, and order, through the midway sky;
-To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring,
-And all the war descends upon the wing,
-But silent, breathing rage, resolved and skill’d[109]
-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 confused amidst the thicken’d day:
-So wrapp’d 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 dared 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, loved 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,
-Press’d 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,
-Smit with a conscious sense, retires behind,
-And shuns the fate he well deserved to find.
-As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees[110]
-Shot forth to view, a scaly serpent sees,
-Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright
-And all confused precipitates his flight:
-So from the king the shining warrior flies,
-And plunged amid the thickest Trojans lies.
-
-As godlike Hector sees the prince retreat,
-He thus upbraids him with a generous heat:
-“Unhappy Paris![111] but to women brave!
-So fairly form’d, and only to deceive!
-Oh, hadst thou died when first thou saw’st the light,
-Or died at least before thy nuptial rite!
-A better fate than vainly thus to boast,
-And fly, the scandal of thy Trojan host.
-Gods! how the scornful Greeks exult to see
-Their fears of danger undeceived in thee!
-Thy figure promised 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 canvas flow,
-And crowds stood wondering at the passing show,
-Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien,
-You met the approaches of the Spartan queen,
-Thus from her realm convey’d the beauteous prize,
-And both her warlike lords outshined 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 injured 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 edged to wound, and still untired with blows,
-Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain,
-With falling woods to strew 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 midway space our hosts divide,
-And, on that stage of war, the cause be tried:
-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 famed 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
-Advanced 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, cried:
-“Forbear, ye warriors! lay the darts aside:
-A parley Hector asks, a message bears;
-We know him by the various plume he wears.”
-Awed 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:
-“Hear, all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian bands,
-What Paris, author of the war, demands.
-Your shining swords within the sheath restrain,
-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 caused the contest, shall reward the toil.
-Let these the brave triumphant victor grace,
-And different nations part in leagues of peace.”
-
-He spoke: in still suspense on either side
-Each army stood: the Spartan chief replied:
-
-“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 injured; all the war be mine.
-Fall he that 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, the 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 befell, and what may yet befall,
-Concludes from both, and best provides for all.
-
-The nations hear with rising hopes possess’d,
-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,
-Laid 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, despatch’d to Troy, invite
-The Phrygian monarch to the peaceful rite.
-
-Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring
-The lamb for Jove, the inviolable king.
-
-Meantime to beauteous Helen, from the skies
-The various goddess of the rainbow flies:
-(Like fair Laodice 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 weaved (herself the prize)
-And the dire triumphs of her fatal eyes.
-To whom the goddess of the painted bow:
-“Approach, and view the wondrous scene below![112]
-Each hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight,
-So dreadful late, and furious for the fight,
-Now rest their spears, or lean upon their shields;
-Ceased 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-coloured maid inspires
-Her husband’s love, and wakes her former fires;
-Her country, parents, all that once were dear,
-Rush to her thought, and force a tender tear,
-O’er her fair face a snowy veil she threw,
-And, softly sighing, from the loom withdrew.
-Her handmaids, Clymene and Æthra, wait
-Her silent footsteps to the Scæan gate.
-
-There sat the seniors of the Trojan race:
-(Old Priam’s chiefs, and most in Priam’s grace,)
-The king the first; Thymœtes at his side;
-Lampus and Clytius, long in council tried;
-Panthus, and Hicetaon, 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,
-In summer days, like grasshoppers rejoice,
-A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.
-These, when the Spartan queen approach’d the tower,
-In secret own’d resistless beauty’s power:
-They cried, “No wonder[113] 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, O Heaven, convey that fatal face,
-And from destruction save the Trojan race.”
-
-The good old Priam welcomed 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.
-But 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,
-So tall, 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 ceased 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 fault it was to please!
-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 he bore a brother’s name!”
-
-With wonder Priam view’d the godlike man,
-Extoll’d the happy prince, and thus began:
-“O bless’d Atrides! born to prosperous fate,
-Successful monarch of a mighty state!
-How vast thy empire! Of your matchless train
-What numbers lost, what numbers yet remain!
-In Phrygia once were gallant armies known,
-In ancient time, when Otreus fill’d the throne,
-When godlike Mygdon led their troops of horse,
-And I, to join them, raised the Trojan force:
-Against the manlike Amazons we stood,[114]
-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 train;
-“What’s he, 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:[115]
-“Myself, O king! have seen that wondrous man
-When, trusting Jove and hospitable laws,
-To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause;
-(Great Menelaus urged the same request;)
-My house was honour’d with each royal guest:
-I knew their persons, and admired their parts,
-Both brave in arms, and both approved in arts.
-Erect, the Spartan most engaged our view;
-Ulysses seated, greater reverence drew.
-When Atreus’ son harangued 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,[116]
-His modest eyes he fix’d upon the ground;
-As one unskill’d or dumb, he seem’d to stand,
-Nor raised his head, nor stretch’d his sceptred hand;
-But, when he speaks, what elocution flows!
-Soft as the fleeces of descending snows,[117]
-The copious accents fall, with easy art;
-Melting they fall, and sink into the heart!
-Wondering we hear, and fix’d in deep surprise,
-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
-Amid 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 vain:
-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 refused to sail the seas;
-Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel draws,
-Ashamed to combat in their sister’s cause.”
-
-So spoke the fair, nor knew her brothers’ doom;[118]
-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 destined victims down.
-Idæus’ arms the golden goblets press’d,[119]
-Who thus the venerable king address’d:
-“Arise, O father of the Trojan state!
-The nations call, thy joyful people wait
-To seal the truce, and end the dire debate.
-Paris, thy son, and Sparta’s king advance,
-In measured lists to toss the weighty lance;
-And who his rival shall in arms subdue,
-His be the dame, and his the treasure too.
-Thus with a lasting league our toils may cease,
-And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace:
-So shall the Greeks review their native shore,
-Much famed for generous steeds, for beauty more.”
-
-With grief he heard, and bade the chiefs prepare
-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:[120]
-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 cutlass sheathed beside his ponderous sword;
-From the sign’d victims crops the curling hair;[121]
-The heralds part it, and the princes share;
-Then loudly thus before the 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 Tartarean gods,
-Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare
-For perjured 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:
-The appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
-And every age record the signal day.
-This 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 confound,
-Shed like this wine, disdain the thirsty ground;
-May all their consorts serve promiscuous lust,
-And all their lust be scatter’d as the dust!”
-Thus either host their imprecations join’d,
-Which Jove refused, and mingled with the wind.
-
-The rites now finish’d, reverend Priam rose,
-And thus express’d a heart o’ercharged 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 fall,
-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 seized 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 inclose:
-Next to decide, by sacred lots prepare,
-Who first shall launch his pointed spear in air.
-The people pray with elevated hands,
-And words like these are heard through all the bands:
-“Immortal Jove, high Heaven’s superior lord,
-On lofty Ida’s holy mount adored!
-Whoe’er involved us in this dire debate,
-O give that author of the war to fate
-And shades eternal! let division cease,
-And joyful nations join in leagues of peace.”
-
-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.
-Both armies sat the combat to survey.
-Beside each chief his azure armour lay,
-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 dress’d,
-Braced in and fitted to his softer breast;
-A radiant baldric, o’er his shoulder tied,
-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 figured shield, a shining orb, he takes,
-And in his hand a pointed javelin shakes.
-With equal speed and fired by equal charms,
-The Spartan hero sheathes 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 pierced the brazen orb, but with a bound[122]
-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 the aggressor, aid my righteous cause,
-Avenge the breach of hospitable laws!
-Let this example future times reclaim,
-And guard from wrong fair friendship’s holy name,”
-He said, and poised in air the javelin sent,
-Through Paris’ shield the forceful weapon went,
-His corslet pierces, and his garment rends,
-And glancing downward, near his flank descends.
-The wary Trojan, bending from the blow,
-Eludes the death, and disappoints his foe:
-But fierce Atrides waved his sword, and strook
-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
-Raised 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 towards the Grecian crew
-(Seized by the crest) the unhappy warrior drew;
-Struggling he followed, while the embroider’d thong
-That tied 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, enraged, 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.
-Raised 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 reclined;
-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 address’d:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VENUS, DISGUISED, INVITING HELEN TO THE CHAMBER OF
-PARIS
-
-
-“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 moved;
-She scorn’d the champion, but the man she loved.
-Fair Venus’ neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
-And breast, reveal’d the queen of soft desire.[123]
-Struck with her presence, straight the lively red
-Forsook her cheek; and trembling, thus she 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 strife,)
-An odious conquest and a captive wife,
-Hence let me sail; and if thy Paris bear
-My absence ill, let Venus ease his care.
-A handmaid 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.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VENUS PRESENTING HELEN TO PARIS
-
-
-Then thus incensed, 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 me, lest I make thee more
-The world’s aversion, than their love before;
-Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
-Than, 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.
-Arrived, 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 placed 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 fled the field, and yet survives his fame?
-O hadst thou died beneath the righteous sword
-Of that brave man whom once I call’d my lord!
-The boaster Paris oft desired 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
-Shouldst 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 delights employ,
-And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy.
-Not thus I loved thee, when from Sparta’s shore
-My forced, my willing heavenly prize I bore,
-When first entranced in Cranae’s isle I lay,[124]
-Mix’d with thy soul, and all dissolved away!”
-Thus having spoke, the 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;
-Even 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 crown’d,
-Our brother’s arms the just success have found:
-Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restor’d,
-Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord;
-The appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
-And age to age record this signal day.”
-
-He ceased; his army’s loud applauses rise,
-And the long shout runs echoing through the skies.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VENUS
-
-[Illustration: ] Map, titled “GRÆCIÆ ANTIQUÆ”
-
-
-
-
-BOOK IV.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE BREACH OF THE TRUCE, AND THE FIRST BATTLE.
-
-
-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 meantime 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 reproof. Nestor is particularly celebrated for
-his military discipline. The battle joins, and great numbers are slain
-on both sides.
-    The same day continues through this as through the last book (as it
-    does also through the two following, and almost to the end of the
-    seventh book). The scene is wholly in the field before Troy.
-
-
-And now Olympus’ shining gates unfold;
-The gods, with Jove, assume their thrones of gold:
-Immortal Hebe, fresh with bloom divine,
-The golden goblet crowns with purple wine:
-While the full bowls flow round, the powers employ
-Their careful eyes on long-contended Troy.
-
-When Jove, disposed to tempt Saturnia’s spleen,
-Thus waked the fury of his partial queen,
-“Two powers divine the son of Atreus aid,
-Imperial Juno, and the martial maid;[125]
-But high in heaven they sit, and gaze from far,
-The tame spectators of his deeds of war.
-Not thus fair Venus helps her favour’d knight,
-The queen of pleasures shares the toils of fight,
-Each danger wards, and constant in her care,
-Saves in the moment of the last despair.
-Her act has rescued Paris’ forfeit life,
-Though great Atrides gain’d the glorious strife.
-Then say, ye powers! what signal issue waits
-To crown this deed, and finish all the fates!
-Shall Heaven by peace the bleeding kingdoms spare,
-Or rouse the furies, and awake the war?
-Yet, would the gods for human good provide,
-Atrides soon might gain his beauteous bride,
-Still Priam’s walls in peaceful honours grow,
-And through his gates the crowding nations flow.”
-
-Thus while he spoke, the queen of heaven, enraged,
-And queen of war, in close consult engaged:
-Apart they sit, their deep designs employ,
-And meditate the future woes of Troy.
-Though secret anger swell’d Minerva’s breast,
-The prudent goddess yet her wrath suppress’d;
-But Juno, impotent of passion, broke
-Her sullen silence, and with fury spoke:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE COUNCIL OF THE GODS
-
-
-“Shall then, O tyrant of the ethereal reign!
-My schemes, my labours, and my hopes be vain?
-Have I, for this, shook Ilion with alarms,
-Assembled nations, set two worlds in arms?
-To spread the war, I flew from shore to shore;
-The immortal coursers scarce the labour bore.
-At length ripe vengeance o’er their heads impends,
-But Jove himself the faithless race defends.
-Loth as thou art to punish lawless lust,
-Not all the gods are partial and unjust.”
-
-The sire whose thunder shakes the cloudy skies,
-Sighs from his inmost soul, and thus replies:
-“Oh lasting rancour! oh insatiate hate
-To Phrygia’s monarch, and the Phrygian state!
-What high offence has fired the wife of Jove?
-Can wretched mortals harm the powers above,
-That Troy, and Troy’s whole race thou wouldst confound,
-And yon fair structures level with the ground!
-Haste, leave the skies, fulfil thy stern desire,
-Burst all her gates, and wrap her walls in fire!
-Let Priam bleed! if yet you thirst for more,
-Bleed all his sons, and Ilion float with gore:
-To boundless vengeance the wide realm be given,
-Till vast destruction glut the queen of heaven!
-So let it be, and Jove his peace enjoy,[126]
-When heaven no longer hears the name of Troy.
-But should this arm prepare to wreak our hate
-On thy loved realms, whose guilt demands their fate;
-Presume not thou the lifted bolt to stay,
-Remember Troy, and give the vengeance way.
-For know, of all the numerous towns that rise
-Beneath the rolling sun and starry skies,
-Which gods have raised, or earth-born men enjoy,
-None stands so dear to Jove as sacred Troy.
-No mortals merit more distinguish’d grace
-Than godlike Priam, or than Priam’s race.
-Still to our name their hecatombs expire,
-And altars blaze with unextinguish’d fire.”
-
-At this the goddess rolled her radiant eyes,
-Then on the Thunderer fix’d them, and replies:
-“Three towns are Juno’s on the Grecian plains,
-More dear than all the extended earth contains,
-Mycenæ, Argos, and the Spartan wall;[127]
-
-These thou mayst raze, nor I forbid their fall:
-’Tis not in me the vengeance to remove;
-The crime’s sufficient that they share my love.
-Of power superior why should I complain?
-Resent I may, but must resent in vain.
-Yet some distinction Juno might require,
-Sprung with thyself from one celestial sire,
-A goddess born, to share the realms above,
-And styled the consort of the thundering Jove;
-Nor thou a wife and sister’s right deny;[128]
-Let both consent, and both by terms comply;
-So shall the gods our joint decrees obey,
-And heaven shall act as we direct the way.
-See ready Pallas waits thy high commands
-To raise in arms the Greek and Phrygian bands;
-Their sudden friendship by her arts may cease,
-And the proud Trojans first infringe the peace.”
-
-The sire of men and monarch of the sky
-The advice approved, and bade Minerva fly,
-Dissolve the league, and all her arts employ
-To make the breach the faithless act of Troy.
-Fired with the charge, she headlong urged her flight,
-And shot like lightning from Olympus’ height.
-As the red comet, from Saturnius sent
-To fright the nations with a dire portent,
-(A fatal sign to armies on the plain,
-Or trembling sailors on the wintry main,)
-With sweeping glories glides along in air,
-And shakes the sparkles from its blazing hair:[129]
-Between both armies thus, in open sight
-Shot the bright goddess in a trail of light,
-With eyes erect the gazing hosts admire
-The power descending, and the heavens on fire!
-“The gods (they cried), the gods this signal sent,
-And fate now labours with some vast event:
-Jove seals the league, or bloodier scenes prepares;
-Jove, the great arbiter of peace and wars.”
-
-They said, while Pallas through the Trojan throng,
-(In shape a mortal,) pass’d disguised along.
-Like bold Laodocus, her course she bent,
-Who from Antenor traced his high descent.
-Amidst the ranks Lycaon’s son she found,
-The warlike Pandarus, for strength renown’d;
-Whose squadrons, led from black Æsepus’ flood,[130]
-With flaming shields in martial circle stood.
-To him the goddess: “Phrygian! canst thou hear
-A well-timed counsel with a willing ear?
-What praise were thine, couldst thou direct thy dart,
-Amidst his triumph, to the Spartan’s heart?
-What gifts from Troy, from Paris wouldst thou gain,
-Thy country’s foe, the Grecian glory slain?
-Then seize the occasion, dare the mighty deed,
-Aim at his breast, and may that aim succeed!
-But first, to speed the shaft, address thy vow
-To Lycian Phœbus with the silver bow,
-And swear the firstlings of thy flock to pay,
-On Zelia’s altars, to the god of day.”[131]
-
-He heard, and madly at the motion pleased,
-His polish’d bow with hasty rashness seized.
-’Twas form’d of horn, and smooth’d with artful toil:
-A mountain goat resign’d the shining spoil.
-Who pierced long since beneath his arrows bled;
-The stately quarry on the cliffs lay dead,
-And sixteen palms his brow’s large honours spread:
-The workmen join’d, and shaped the bended horns,
-And beaten gold each taper point adorns.
-This, by the Greeks unseen, the warrior bends,
-Screen’d by the shields of his surrounding friends:
-There meditates the mark; and couching low,
-Fits the sharp arrow to the well-strung bow.
-One from a hundred feather’d deaths he chose,
-Fated to wound, and cause of future woes;
-Then offers vows with hecatombs to crown
-Apollo’s altars in his native town.
-
-Now with full force the yielding horn he bends,
-Drawn to an arch, and joins the doubling ends;
-Close to his breast he strains the nerve below,
-Till the barb’d points approach the circling bow;
-The impatient weapon whizzes on the wing;
-Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quivering string.
-
-But thee, Atrides! in that dangerous hour
-The gods forget not, nor thy guardian power,
-Pallas assists, and (weakened in its force)
-Diverts the weapon from its destined course:
-So from her babe, when slumber seals his eye,
-The watchful mother wafts the envenom’d fly.
-Just where his belt with golden buckles join’d,
-Where linen folds the double corslet lined,
-She turn’d the shaft, which, hissing from above,
-Pass’d the broad belt, and through the corslet drove;
-The folds it pierced, the plaited linen tore,
-And razed the skin, and drew the purple gore.
-As when some stately trappings are decreed
-To grace a monarch on his bounding steed,
-A nymph in Caria or Mæonia bred,
-Stains the pure ivory with a lively red;
-With equal lustre various colours vie,
-The shining whiteness, and the Tyrian dye:
-So great Atrides! show’d thy sacred blood,
-As down thy snowy thigh distill’d the streaming flood.
-With horror seized, the king of men descried
-The shaft infix’d, and saw the gushing tide:
-Nor less the Spartan fear’d, before he found
-The shining barb appear above the wound,
-Then, with a sigh, that heaved his manly breast,
-The royal brother thus his grief express’d,
-And grasp’d his hand; while all the Greeks around
-With answering sighs return’d the plaintive sound.
-
-“Oh, dear as life! did I for this agree
-The solemn truce, a fatal truce to thee!
-Wert thou exposed to all the hostile train,
-To fight for Greece, and conquer, to be slain!
-The race of Trojans in thy ruin join,
-And faith is scorn’d by all the perjured line.
-Not thus our vows, confirm’d with wine and gore,
-Those hands we plighted, and those oaths we swore,
-Shall all be vain: when Heaven’s revenge is slow,
-Jove but prepares to strike the fiercer blow.
-The day shall come, that great avenging day,
-When Troy’s proud glories in the dust shall lay,
-When Priam’s powers and Priam’s self shall fall,
-And one prodigious ruin swallow all.
-I see the god, already, from the pole
-Bare his red arm, and bid the thunder roll;
-I see the Eternal all his fury shed,
-And shake his ægis o’er their guilty head.
-Such mighty woes on perjured princes wait;
-But thou, alas! deserv’st a happier fate.
-Still must I mourn the period of thy days,
-And only mourn, without my share of praise?
-Deprived of thee, the heartless Greeks no more
-Shall dream of conquests on the hostile shore;
-Troy seized of Helen, and our glory lost,
-Thy bones shall moulder on a foreign coast;
-While some proud Trojan thus insulting cries,
-(And spurns the dust where Menelaus lies,)
-‘Such are the trophies Greece from Ilion brings,
-And such the conquest of her king of kings!
-Lo his proud vessels scatter’d o’er the main,
-And unrevenged, his mighty brother slain.’
-Oh! ere that dire disgrace shall blast my fame,
-O’erwhelm me, earth! and hide a monarch’s shame.”
-
-He said: a leader’s and a brother’s fears
-Possess his soul, which thus the Spartan cheers:
-“Let not thy words the warmth of Greece abate;
-The feeble dart is guiltless of my fate:
-Stiff with the rich embroider’d work around,
-My varied belt repell’d the flying wound.”
-
-To whom the king: “My brother and my friend,
-Thus, always thus, may Heaven thy life defend!
-Now seek some skilful hand, whose powerful art
-May stanch the effusion, and extract the dart.
-Herald, be swift, and bid Machaon bring
-His speedy succour to the Spartan king;
-Pierced with a winged shaft (the deed of Troy),
-The Grecian’s sorrow, and the Dardan’s joy.”
-
-With hasty zeal the swift Talthybius flies;
-Through the thick files he darts his searching eyes,
-And finds Machaon, where sublime he stands[132]
-In arms incircled with his native bands.
-Then thus: “Machaon, to the king repair,
-His wounded brother claims thy timely care;
-Pierced by some Lycian or Dardanian bow,
-A grief to us, a triumph to the foe.”
-
-The heavy tidings grieved the godlike man:
-Swift to his succour through the ranks he ran.
-The dauntless king yet standing firm he found,
-And all the chiefs in deep concern around.
-Where to the steely point the reed was join’d,
-The shaft he drew, but left the head behind.
-Straight the broad belt with gay embroidery graced,
-He loosed; the corslet from his breast unbraced;
-Then suck’d the blood, and sovereign balm infused,[133]
-Which Chiron gave, and Æsculapius used.
-
-While round the prince the Greeks employ their care,
-The Trojans rush tumultuous to the war;
-Once more they glitter in refulgent arms,
-Once more the fields are fill’d with dire alarms.
-Nor had you seen the king of men appear
-Confused, unactive, or surprised with fear;
-But fond of glory, with severe delight,
-His beating bosom claim’d the rising fight.
-No longer with his warlike steeds he stay’d,
-Or press’d the car with polish’d brass inlaid
-But left Eurymedon the reins to guide;
-The fiery coursers snorted at his side.
-On foot through all the martial ranks he moves
-And these encourages, and those reproves.
-“Brave men!” he cries, (to such who boldly dare
-Urge their swift steeds to face the coming war),
-“Your ancient valour on the foes approve;
-Jove is with Greece, and let us trust in Jove.
-’Tis not for us, but guilty Troy, to dread,
-Whose crimes sit heavy on her perjured head;
-Her sons and matrons Greece shall lead in chains,
-And her dead warriors strew the mournful plains.”
-
-Thus with new ardour he the brave inspires;
-Or thus the fearful with reproaches fires:
-“Shame to your country, scandal of your kind;
-Born to the fate ye well deserve to find!
-Why stand ye gazing round the dreadful plain,
-Prepared for flight, but doom’d to fly in vain?
-Confused and panting thus, the hunted deer
-Falls as he flies, a victim to his fear.
-Still must ye wait the foes, and still retire,
-Till yon tall vessels blaze with Trojan fire?
-Or trust ye, Jove a valiant foe shall chase,
-To save a trembling, heartless, dastard race?”
-
-This said, he stalk’d with ample strides along,
-To Crete’s brave monarch and his martial throng;
-High at their head he saw the chief appear,
-And bold Meriones excite the rear.
-At this the king his generous joy express’d,
-And clasp’d the warrior to his armed breast.
-“Divine Idomeneus! what thanks we owe
-To worth like thine! what praise shall we bestow?
-To thee the foremost honours are decreed,
-First in the fight and every graceful deed.
-For this, in banquets, when the generous bowls
-Restore our blood, and raise the warriors’ souls,
-Though all the rest with stated rules we bound,
-Unmix’d, unmeasured, are thy goblets crown’d.
-Be still thyself, in arms a mighty name;
-Maintain thy honours, and enlarge thy fame.”
-To whom the Cretan thus his speech address’d:
-“Secure of me, O king! exhort the rest.
-Fix’d to thy side, in every toil I share,
-Thy firm associate in the day of war.
-But let the signal be this moment given;
-To mix in fight is all I ask of Heaven.
-The field shall prove how perjuries succeed,
-And chains or death avenge the impious deed.”
-
-Charm’d with this heat, the king his course pursues,
-And next the troops of either Ajax views:
-In one firm orb the bands were ranged around,
-A cloud of heroes blacken’d all the ground.
-Thus from the lofty promontory’s brow
-A swain surveys the gathering storm below;
-Slow from the main the heavy vapours rise,
-Spread in dim streams, and sail along the skies,
-Till black as night the swelling tempest shows,
-The cloud condensing as the west-wind blows:
-He dreads the impending storm, and drives his flock
-To the close covert of an arching rock.
-
-Such, and so thick, the embattled squadrons stood,
-With spears erect, a moving iron wood:
-A shady light was shot from glimmering shields,
-And their brown arms obscured the dusky fields.
-
-“O heroes! worthy such a dauntless train,
-Whose godlike virtue we but urge in vain,
-(Exclaim’d the king), who raise your eager bands
-With great examples, more than loud commands.
-Ah! would the gods but breathe in all the rest
-Such souls as burn in your exalted breast,
-Soon should our arms with just success be crown’d,
-And Troy’s proud walls lie smoking on the ground.”
-
-Then to the next the general bends his course;
-(His heart exults, and glories in his force);
-There reverend Nestor ranks his Pylian bands,
-And with inspiring eloquence commands;
-With strictest order sets his train in arms,
-The chiefs advises, and the soldiers warms.
-Alastor, Chromius, Haemon, round him wait,
-Bias the good, and Pelagon the great.
-The horse and chariots to the front assign’d,
-The foot (the strength of war) he ranged behind;
-The middle space suspected troops supply,
-Inclosed by both, nor left the power to fly;
-He gives command to “curb the fiery steed,
-Nor cause confusion, nor the ranks exceed:
-Before the rest let none too rashly ride;
-No strength nor skill, but just in time, be tried:
-The charge once made, no warrior turn the rein,
-But fight, or fall; a firm embodied train.
-He whom the fortune of the field shall cast
-From forth his chariot, mount the next in haste;
-Nor seek unpractised to direct the car,
-Content with javelins to provoke the war.
-Our great forefathers held this prudent course,
-Thus ruled their ardour, thus preserved their force;
-By laws like these immortal conquests made,
-And earth’s proud tyrants low in ashes laid.”
-
-So spoke the master of the martial art,
-And touch’d with transport great Atrides’ heart.
-“Oh! hadst thou strength to match thy brave desires,
-And nerves to second what thy soul inspires!
-But wasting years, that wither human race,
-Exhaust thy spirits, and thy arms unbrace.
-What once thou wert, oh ever mightst thou be!
-And age the lot of any chief but thee.”
-
-Thus to the experienced prince Atrides cried;
-He shook his hoary locks, and thus replied:
-“Well might I wish, could mortal wish renew[134]
-That strength which once in boiling youth I knew;
-Such as I was, when Ereuthalion, slain
-Beneath this arm, fell prostrate on the plain.
-But heaven its gifts not all at once bestows,
-These years with wisdom crowns, with action those:
-The field of combat fits the young and bold,
-The solemn council best becomes the old:
-To you the glorious conflict I resign,
-Let sage advice, the palm of age, be mine.”
-
-He said. With joy the monarch march’d before,
-And found Menestheus on the dusty shore,
-With whom the firm Athenian phalanx stands;
-And next Ulysses, with his subject bands.
-Remote their forces lay, nor knew so far
-The peace infringed, nor heard the sounds of war;
-The tumult late begun, they stood intent
-To watch the motion, dubious of the event.
-The king, who saw their squadrons yet unmoved,
-With hasty ardour thus the chiefs reproved:
-
-“Can Peleus’ son forget a warrior’s part.
-And fears Ulysses, skill’d in every art?
-Why stand you distant, and the rest expect
-To mix in combat which yourselves neglect?
-From you ’twas hoped among the first to dare
-The shock of armies, and commence the war;
-For this your names are call’d before the rest,
-To share the pleasures of the genial feast:
-And can you, chiefs! without a blush survey
-Whole troops before you labouring in the fray?
-Say, is it thus those honours you requite?
-The first in banquets, but the last in fight.”
-
-Ulysses heard: the hero’s warmth o’erspread
-His cheek with blushes: and severe, he said:
-“Take back the unjust reproach! Behold we stand
-Sheathed in bright arms, and but expect command.
-If glorious deeds afford thy soul delight,
-Behold me plunging in the thickest fight.
-Then give thy warrior-chief a warrior’s due,
-Who dares to act whate’er thou dar’st to view.”
-Struck with his generous wrath, the king replies:
-
-“O great in action, and in council wise!
-With ours, thy care and ardour are the same,
-Nor need I to commend, nor aught to blame.
-Sage as thou art, and learn’d in human kind,
-Forgive the transport of a martial mind.
-Haste to the fight, secure of just amends;
-The gods that make, shall keep the worthy, friends.”
-
-He said, and pass’d where great Tydides lay,
-His steeds and chariots wedged in firm array;
-(The warlike Sthenelus attends his side;)[135]
-To whom with stern reproach the monarch cried:
-“O son of Tydeus! (he, whose strength could tame
-The bounding steed, in arms a mighty name)
-Canst thou, remote, the mingling hosts descry,
-With hands unactive, and a careless eye?
-Not thus thy sire the fierce encounter fear’d;
-Still first in front the matchless prince appear’d:
-What glorious toils, what wonders they recite,
-Who view’d him labouring through the ranks of fight?
-I saw him once, when gathering martial powers,
-A peaceful guest, he sought Mycenæ’s towers;
-Armies he ask’d, and armies had been given,
-Not we denied, but Jove forbade from heaven;
-While dreadful comets glaring from afar,
-Forewarn’d the horrors of the Theban war.[136]
-Next, sent by Greece from where Asopus flows,
-A fearless envoy, he approach’d the foes;
-Thebes’ hostile walls unguarded and alone,
-Dauntless he enters, and demands the throne.
-The tyrant feasting with his chiefs he found,
-And dared to combat all those chiefs around:
-Dared, and subdued before their haughty lord;
-For Pallas strung his arm and edged his sword.
-Stung with the shame, within the winding way,
-To bar his passage fifty warriors lay;
-Two heroes led the secret squadron on,
-Mason the fierce, and hardy Lycophon;
-Those fifty slaughter’d in the gloomy vale.
-He spared but one to bear the dreadful tale,
-Such Tydeus was, and such his martial fire;
-Gods! how the son degenerates from the sire!”
-
-No words the godlike Diomed return’d,
-But heard respectful, and in secret burn’d:
-Not so fierce Capaneus’ undaunted son;
-Stern as his sire, the boaster thus begun:
-
-“What needs, O monarch! this invidious praise,
-Ourselves to lessen, while our sire you raise?
-Dare to be just, Atrides! and confess
-Our value equal, though our fury less.
-With fewer troops we storm’d the Theban wall,
-And happier saw the sevenfold city fall,[137]
-In impious acts the guilty father died;
-The sons subdued, for Heaven was on their side.
-Far more than heirs of all our parents’ fame,
-Our glories darken their diminish’d name.”
-
-To him Tydides thus: “My friend, forbear;
-Suppress thy passion, and the king revere:
-His high concern may well excuse this rage,
-Whose cause we follow, and whose war we wage:
-His the first praise, were Ilion’s towers o’erthrown,
-And, if we fail, the chief disgrace his own.
-Let him the Greeks to hardy toils excite,
-’Tis ours to labour in the glorious fight.”
-
-He spoke, and ardent, on the trembling ground
-Sprung from his car: his ringing arms resound.
-Dire was the clang, and dreadful from afar,
-Of arm’d Tydides rushing to the war.
-As when the winds, ascending by degrees,[138]
-First move the whitening surface of the seas,
-The billows float in order to the shore,
-The wave behind rolls on the wave before;
-Till, with the growing storm, the deeps arise,
-Foam o’er the rocks, and thunder to the skies.
-So to the fight the thick battalions throng,
-Shields urged on shields, and men drove men along
-Sedate and silent move the numerous bands;
-No sound, no whisper, but the chief’s commands,
-Those only heard; with awe the rest obey,
-As if some god had snatch’d their voice away.
-Not so the Trojans; from their host ascends
-A general shout that all the region rends.
-As when the fleecy flocks unnumber’d stand
-In wealthy folds, and wait the milker’s hand,
-The hollow vales incessant bleating fills,
-The lambs reply from all the neighbouring hills:
-Such clamours rose from various nations round,
-Mix’d was the murmur, and confused the sound.
-Each host now joins, and each a god inspires,
-These Mars incites, and those Minerva fires,
-Pale flight around, and dreadful terror reign;
-And discord raging bathes the purple plain;
-Discord! dire sister of the slaughtering power,
-Small at her birth, but rising every hour,
-While scarce the skies her horrid head can bound,
-She stalks on earth, and shakes the world around;[139]
-The nations bleed, where’er her steps she turns,
-The groan still deepens, and the combat burns.
-
-Now shield with shield, with helmet helmet closed,
-To armour armour, lance to lance opposed,
-Host against host with shadowy squadrons drew,
-The sounding darts in iron tempests flew,
-Victors and vanquish’d join’d promiscuous cries,
-And shrilling shouts and dying groans arise;
-With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed,
-And slaughter’d heroes swell the dreadful tide.
-
-As torrents roll, increased by numerous rills,
-With rage impetuous, down their echoing hills
-Rush to the vales, and pour’d along the plain,
-Roar through a thousand channels to the main:
-The distant shepherd trembling hears the sound;
-So mix both hosts, and so their cries rebound.
-
-The bold Antilochus the slaughter led,
-The first who struck a valiant Trojan dead:
-At great Echepolus the lance arrives,
-Razed his high crest, and through his helmet drives;
-Warm’d in the brain the brazen weapon lies,
-And shades eternal settle o’er his eyes.
-So sinks a tower, that long assaults had stood
-Of force and fire, its walls besmear’d with blood.
-Him, the bold leader of the Abantian throng,[140]
-Seized to despoil, and dragg’d the corpse along:
-But while he strove to tug the inserted dart,
-Agenor’s javelin reach’d the hero’s heart.
-His flank, unguarded by his ample shield,
-Admits the lance: he falls, and spurns the field;
-The nerves, unbraced, support his limbs no more;
-The soul comes floating in a tide of gore.
-Trojans and Greeks now gather round the slain;
-The war renews, the warriors bleed again:
-As o’er their prey rapacious wolves engage,
-Man dies on man, and all is blood and rage.
-
-In blooming youth fair Simoisius fell,
-Sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell;
-Fair Simoisius, whom his mother bore
-Amid the flocks on silver Simois’ shore:
-The nymph descending from the hills of Ide,
-To seek her parents on his flowery side,
-Brought forth the babe, their common care and joy,
-And thence from Simois named the lovely boy.
-Short was his date! by dreadful Ajax slain,
-He falls, and renders all their cares in vain!
-So falls a poplar, that in watery ground
-Raised high the head, with stately branches crown’d,
-(Fell’d by some artist with his shining steel,
-To shape the circle of the bending wheel,)
-Cut down it lies, tall, smooth, and largely spread,
-With all its beauteous honours on its head
-There, left a subject to the wind and rain,
-And scorch’d by suns, it withers on the plain
-Thus pierced by Ajax, Simoisius lies
-Stretch’d on the shore, and thus neglected dies.
-
-At Ajax, Antiphus his javelin threw;
-The pointed lance with erring fury flew,
-And Leucus, loved by wise Ulysses, slew.
-He drops the corpse of Simoisius slain,
-And sinks a breathless carcase on the plain.
-This saw Ulysses, and with grief enraged,
-Strode where the foremost of the foes engaged;
-Arm’d with his spear, he meditates the wound,
-In act to throw; but cautious look’d around,
-Struck at his sight the Trojans backward drew,
-And trembling heard the javelin as it flew.
-A chief stood nigh, who from Abydos came,
-Old Priam’s son, Democoon was his name.
-The weapon entered close above his ear,
-Cold through his temples glides the whizzing spear;[141]
-With piercing shrieks the youth resigns his breath,
-His eye-balls darken with the shades of death;
-Ponderous he falls; his clanging arms resound,
-And his broad buckler rings against the ground.
-
-Seized with affright the boldest foes appear;
-E’en godlike Hector seems himself to fear;
-Slow he gave way, the rest tumultuous fled;
-The Greeks with shouts press on, and spoil the dead:
-But Phœbus now from Ilion’s towering height
-Shines forth reveal’d, and animates the fight.
-“Trojans, be bold, and force with force oppose;
-Your foaming steeds urge headlong on the foes!
-Nor are their bodies rocks, nor ribb’d with steel;
-Your weapons enter, and your strokes they feel.
-Have ye forgot what seem’d your dread before?
-The great, the fierce Achilles fights no more.”
-
-Apollo thus from Ilion’s lofty towers,
-Array’d in terrors, roused the Trojan powers:
-While war’s fierce goddess fires the Grecian foe,
-And shouts and thunders in the fields below.
-Then great Diores fell, by doom divine,
-In vain his valour and illustrious line.
-A broken rock the force of Pyrus threw,
-(Who from cold Ænus led the Thracian crew,)[142]
-Full on his ankle dropp’d the ponderous stone,
-Burst the strong nerves, and crash’d the solid bone.
-Supine he tumbles on the crimson sands,
-Before his helpless friends, and native bands,
-And spreads for aid his unavailing hands.
-The foe rush’d furious as he pants for breath,
-And through his navel drove the pointed death:
-His gushing entrails smoked upon the ground,
-And the warm life came issuing from the wound.
-
-His lance bold Thoas at the conqueror sent,
-Deep in his breast above the pap it went,
-Amid the lungs was fix’d the winged wood,
-And quivering in his heaving bosom stood:
-Till from the dying chief, approaching near,
-The Ætolian warrior tugg’d his weighty spear:
-Then sudden waved his flaming falchion round,
-And gash’d his belly with a ghastly wound;
-The corpse now breathless on the bloody plain,
-To spoil his arms the victor strove in vain;
-The Thracian bands against the victor press’d,
-A grove of lances glitter’d at his breast.
-Stern Thoas, glaring with revengeful eyes,
-In sullen fury slowly quits the prize.
-
-Thus fell two heroes; one the pride of Thrace,
-And one the leader of the Epeian race;
-Death’s sable shade at once o’ercast their eyes,
-In dust the vanquish’d and the victor lies.
-With copious slaughter all the fields are red,
-And heap’d with growing mountains of the dead.
-
-Had some brave chief this martial scene beheld,
-By Pallas guarded through the dreadful field;
-Might darts be bid to turn their points away,
-And swords around him innocently play;
-The war’s whole art with wonder had he seen,
-And counted heroes where he counted men.
-
-So fought each host, with thirst of glory fired,
-And crowds on crowds triumphantly expired.
-
-[Illustration: ] Map of the Plain of Troy
-
-
-
-
-BOOK V.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE ACTS OF DIOMED.
-
-
-Diomed, assisted by Pallas, performs wonders in this day’s battle.
-Pandarus wounds him with an arrow, but the goddess cures him, enables
-him to discern gods from mortals, and prohibits him from contending
-with any of the former, excepting Venus. Æneas joins Pandarus to oppose
-him; Pandarus is killed, and Æneas in great danger but for the
-assistance of Venus; who, as she is removing her son from the fight, is
-wounded on the hand by Diomed. Apollo seconds her in his rescue, and at
-length carries off Æneas to Troy, where he is healed in the temple of
-Pergamus. Mars rallies the Trojans, and assists Hector to make a stand.
-In the meantime Æneas is restored to the field, and they overthrow
-several of the Greeks; among the rest Tlepolemus is slain by Sarpedon.
-Juno and Minerva descend to resist Mars; the latter incites Diomed to
-go against that god; he wounds him, and sends him groaning to heaven.
-    The first battle continues through this book. The scene is the same
-    as in the former.
-
-
-But Pallas now Tydides’ soul inspires,[143]
-Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires,
-Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise,
-And crown her hero with distinguish’d praise.
-High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
-His beamy shield emits a living ray;
-The unwearied blaze incessant streams supplies,
-Like the red star that fires the autumnal skies,
-When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight,
-And, bathed in ocean, shoots a keener light.
-Such glories Pallas on the chief bestow’d,
-Such, from his arms, the fierce effulgence flow’d:
-Onward she drives him, furious to engage,
-Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage.
-
-The sons of Dares first the combat sought,
-A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault;
-In Vulcan’s fane the father’s days were led,
-The sons to toils of glorious battle bred;
-These singled from their troops the fight maintain,
-These, from their steeds, Tydides on the plain.
-Fierce for renown the brother-chiefs draw near,
-And first bold Phegeus cast his sounding spear,
-Which o’er the warrior’s shoulder took its course,
-And spent in empty air its erring force.
-Not so, Tydides, flew thy lance in vain,
-But pierced his breast, and stretch’d him on the plain.
-Seized with unusual fear, Idæus fled,
-Left the rich chariot, and his brother dead.
-And had not Vulcan lent celestial aid,
-He too had sunk to death’s eternal shade;
-But in a smoky cloud the god of fire
-Preserved the son, in pity to the sire.
-The steeds and chariot, to the navy led,
-Increased the spoils of gallant Diomed.
-
-Struck with amaze and shame, the Trojan crew,
-Or slain, or fled, the sons of Dares view;
-When by the blood-stain’d hand Minerva press’d
-The god of battles, and this speech address’d:
-
-“Stern power of war! by whom the mighty fall,
-Who bathe in blood, and shake the lofty wall!
-Let the brave chiefs their glorious toils divide;
-And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide:
-While we from interdicted fields retire,
-Nor tempt the wrath of heaven’s avenging sire.”
-
-Her words allay the impetuous warrior’s heat,
-The god of arms and martial maid retreat;
-Removed from fight, on Xanthus’ flowery bounds
-They sat, and listen’d to the dying sounds.
-
-Meantime, the Greeks the Trojan race pursue,
-And some bold chieftain every leader slew:
-First Odius falls, and bites the bloody sand,
-His death ennobled by Atrides’ hand:
-
-As he to flight his wheeling car address’d,
-The speedy javelin drove from back to breast.
-In dust the mighty Halizonian lay,
-His arms resound, the spirit wings its way.
-
-Thy fate was next, O Phæstus! doom’d to feel
-The great Idomeneus’ protended steel;
-Whom Borus sent (his son and only joy)
-From fruitful Tarne to the fields of Troy.
-The Cretan javelin reach’d him from afar,
-And pierced his shoulder as he mounts his car;
-Back from the car he tumbles to the ground,
-And everlasting shades his eyes surround.
-
-Then died Scamandrius, expert in the chase,
-In woods and wilds to wound the savage race;
-Diana taught him all her sylvan arts,
-To bend the bow, and aim unerring darts:
-But vainly here Diana’s arts he tries,
-The fatal lance arrests him as he flies;
-From Menelaus’ arm the weapon sent,
-Through his broad back and heaving bosom went:
-Down sinks the warrior with a thundering sound,
-His brazen armour rings against the ground.
-
-Next artful Phereclus untimely fell;
-Bold Merion sent him to the realms of hell.
-Thy father’s skill, O Phereclus! was thine,
-The graceful fabric and the fair design;
-For loved by Pallas, Pallas did impart
-To him the shipwright’s and the builder’s art.
-Beneath his hand the fleet of Paris rose,
-The fatal cause of all his country’s woes;
-But he, the mystic will of heaven unknown,
-Nor saw his country’s peril, nor his own.
-The hapless artist, while confused he fled,
-The spear of Merion mingled with the dead.
-Through his right hip, with forceful fury cast,
-Between the bladder and the bone it pass’d;
-Prone on his knees he falls with fruitless cries,
-And death in lasting slumber seals his eyes.
-
-From Meges’ force the swift Pedaeus fled,
-Antenor’s offspring from a foreign bed,
-Whose generous spouse, Theanor, heavenly fair,
-Nursed the young stranger with a mother’s care.
-How vain those cares! when Meges in the rear
-Full in his nape infix’d the fatal spear;
-Swift through his crackling jaws the weapon glides,
-And the cold tongue and grinning teeth divides.
-
-Then died Hypsenor, generous and divine,
-Sprung from the brave Dolopion’s mighty line,
-Who near adored Scamander made abode,
-Priest of the stream, and honoured as a god.
-On him, amidst the flying numbers found,
-Eurypylus inflicts a deadly wound;
-On his broad shoulders fell the forceful brand,
-Thence glancing downwards, lopp’d his holy hand,
-Which stain’d with sacred blood the blushing sand.
-Down sunk the priest: the purple hand of death
-Closed his dim eye, and fate suppress’d his breath.
-
-Thus toil’d the chiefs, in different parts engaged.
-In every quarter fierce Tydides raged;
-Amid the Greek, amid the Trojan train,
-Rapt through the ranks he thunders o’er the plain;
-Now here, now there, he darts from place to place,
-Pours on the rear, or lightens in their face.
-Thus from high hills the torrents swift and strong
-Deluge whole fields, and sweep the trees along,
-Through ruin’d moles the rushing wave resounds,
-O’erwhelm’s the bridge, and bursts the lofty bounds;
-The yellow harvests of the ripen’d year,
-And flatted vineyards, one sad waste appear![144]
-While Jove descends in sluicy sheets of rain,
-And all the labours of mankind are vain.
-
-So raged Tydides, boundless in his ire,
-Drove armies back, and made all Troy retire.
-With grief the leader of the Lycian band
-Saw the wide waste of his destructive hand:
-His bended bow against the chief he drew;
-Swift to the mark the thirsty arrow flew,
-Whose forky point the hollow breastplate tore,
-Deep in his shoulder pierced, and drank the gore:
-The rushing stream his brazen armour dyed,
-While the proud archer thus exulting cried:
-
-“Hither, ye Trojans, hither drive your steeds!
-Lo! by our hand the bravest Grecian bleeds,
-Not long the deathful dart he can sustain;
-Or Phœbus urged me to these fields in vain.”
-So spoke he, boastful: but the winged dart
-Stopp’d short of life, and mock’d the shooter’s art.
-The wounded chief, behind his car retired,
-The helping hand of Sthenelus required;
-Swift from his seat he leap’d upon the ground,
-And tugg’d the weapon from the gushing wound;
-When thus the king his guardian power address’d,
-The purple current wandering o’er his vest:
-
-“O progeny of Jove! unconquer’d maid!
-If e’er my godlike sire deserved thy aid,
-If e’er I felt thee in the fighting field;
-Now, goddess, now, thy sacred succour yield.
-O give my lance to reach the Trojan knight,
-Whose arrow wounds the chief thou guard’st in fight;
-And lay the boaster grovelling on the shore,
-That vaunts these eyes shall view the light no more.”
-
-Thus pray’d Tydides, and Minerva heard,
-His nerves confirm’d, his languid spirits cheer’d;
-He feels each limb with wonted vigour light;
-His beating bosom claim’d the promised fight.
-“Be bold, (she cried), in every combat shine,
-War be thy province, thy protection mine;
-Rush to the fight, and every foe control;
-Wake each paternal virtue in thy soul:
-Strength swells thy boiling breast, infused by me,
-And all thy godlike father breathes in thee;
-Yet more, from mortal mists I purge thy eyes,[145]
-And set to view the warring deities.
-These see thou shun, through all the embattled plain;
-Nor rashly strive where human force is vain.
-If Venus mingle in the martial band,
-Her shalt thou wound: so Pallas gives command.”
-
-With that, the blue-eyed virgin wing’d her flight;
-The hero rush’d impetuous to the fight;
-With tenfold ardour now invades the plain,
-Wild with delay, and more enraged by pain.
-As on the fleecy flocks when hunger calls,
-Amidst the field a brindled lion falls;
-If chance some shepherd with a distant dart
-The savage wound, he rouses at the smart,
-He foams, he roars; the shepherd dares not stay,
-But trembling leaves the scattering flocks a prey;
-Heaps fall on heaps; he bathes with blood the ground,
-Then leaps victorious o’er the lofty mound.
-Not with less fury stern Tydides flew;
-And two brave leaders at an instant slew;
-Astynous breathless fell, and by his side,
-His people’s pastor, good Hypenor, died;
-Astynous’ breast the deadly lance receives,
-Hypenor’s shoulder his broad falchion cleaves.
-Those slain he left, and sprung with noble rage
-Abas and Polyidus to engage;
-Sons of Eurydamus, who, wise and old,
-Could fate foresee, and mystic dreams unfold;
-The youths return’d not from the doubtful plain,
-And the sad father tried his arts in vain;
-No mystic dream could make their fates appear,
-Though now determined by Tydides’ spear.
-
-Young Xanthus next, and Thoon felt his rage;
-The joy and hope of Phaenops’ feeble age:
-Vast was his wealth, and these the only heirs
-Of all his labours and a life of cares.
-Cold death o’ertakes them in their blooming years,
-And leaves the father unavailing tears:
-To strangers now descends his heapy store,
-The race forgotten, and the name no more.
-
-Two sons of Priam in one chariot ride,
-Glittering in arms, and combat side by side.
-As when the lordly lion seeks his food
-Where grazing heifers range the lonely wood,
-He leaps amidst them with a furious bound,
-Bends their strong necks, and tears them to the ground:
-So from their seats the brother chiefs are torn,
-Their steeds and chariot to the navy borne.
-
-With deep concern divine Æneas view’d
-The foe prevailing, and his friends pursued;
-Through the thick storm of singing spears he flies,
-Exploring Pandarus with careful eyes.
-At length he found Lycaon’s mighty son;
-To whom the chief of Venus’ race begun:
-
-“Where, Pandarus, are all thy honours now,
-Thy winged arrows and unerring bow,
-Thy matchless skill, thy yet unrivall’d fame,
-And boasted glory of the Lycian name?
-O pierce that mortal! if we mortal call
-That wondrous force by which whole armies fall;
-Or god incensed, who quits the distant skies
-To punish Troy for slighted sacrifice;
-(Which, oh avert from our unhappy state!
-For what so dreadful as celestial hate)?
-Whoe’er he be, propitiate Jove with prayer;
-If man, destroy; if god, entreat to spare.”
-
-To him the Lycian: “Whom your eyes behold,
-If right I judge, is Diomed the bold:
-Such coursers whirl him o’er the dusty field,
-So towers his helmet, and so flames his shield.
-If ’tis a god, he wears that chief’s disguise:
-Or if that chief, some guardian of the skies,
-Involved in clouds, protects him in the fray,
-And turns unseen the frustrate dart away.
-I wing’d an arrow, which not idly fell,
-The stroke had fix’d him to the gates of hell;
-And, but some god, some angry god withstands,
-His fate was due to these unerring hands.
-Skill’d in the bow, on foot I sought the war,
-Nor join’d swift horses to the rapid car.
-Ten polish’d chariots I possess’d at home,
-And still they grace Lycaon’s princely dome:
-There veil’d in spacious coverlets they stand;
-And twice ten coursers wait their lord’s command.
-The good old warrior bade me trust to these,
-When first for Troy I sail’d the sacred seas;
-In fields, aloft, the whirling car to guide,
-And through the ranks of death triumphant ride.
-But vain with youth, and yet to thrift inclined,
-I heard his counsels with unheedful mind,
-And thought the steeds (your large supplies unknown)
-Might fail of forage in the straiten’d town;
-So took my bow and pointed darts in hand
-And left the chariots in my native land.
-
-“Too late, O friend! my rashness I deplore;
-These shafts, once fatal, carry death no more.
-Tydeus’ and Atreus’ sons their points have found,
-And undissembled gore pursued the wound.
-In vain they bleed: this unavailing bow
-Serves, not to slaughter, but provoke the foe.
-In evil hour these bended horns I strung,
-And seized the quiver where it idly hung.
-Cursed be the fate that sent me to the field
-Without a warrior’s arms, the spear and shield!
-If e’er with life I quit the Trojan plain,
-If e’er I see my spouse and sire again,
-This bow, unfaithful to my glorious aims,
-Broke by my hand, shall feed the blazing flames.”
-
-To whom the leader of the Dardan race:
-“Be calm, nor Phœbus’ honour’d gift disgrace.
-The distant dart be praised, though here we need
-The rushing chariot and the bounding steed.
-Against yon hero let us bend our course,
-And, hand to hand, encounter force with force.
-Now mount my seat, and from the chariot’s height
-Observe my father’s steeds, renown’d in fight;
-Practised alike to turn, to stop, to chase,
-To dare the shock, or urge the rapid race;
-Secure with these, through fighting fields we go;
-Or safe to Troy, if Jove assist the foe.
-Haste, seize the whip, and snatch the guiding rein;
-The warrior’s fury let this arm sustain;
-Or, if to combat thy bold heart incline,
-Take thou the spear, the chariot’s care be mine.”
-
-“O prince! (Lycaon’s valiant son replied)
-As thine the steeds, be thine the task to guide.
-The horses, practised to their lord’s command,
-Shall bear the rein, and answer to thy hand;
-But, if, unhappy, we desert the fight,
-Thy voice alone can animate their flight;
-Else shall our fates be number’d with the dead,
-And these, the victor’s prize, in triumph led.
-Thine be the guidance, then: with spear and shield
-Myself will charge this terror of the field.”
-
-And now both heroes mount the glittering car;
-The bounding coursers rush amidst the war;
-Their fierce approach bold Sthenelus espied,
-Who thus, alarm’d, to great Tydides cried:
-
-“O friend! two chiefs of force immense I see,
-Dreadful they come, and bend their rage on thee:
-Lo the brave heir of old Lycaon’s line,
-And great Æneas, sprung from race divine!
-Enough is given to fame. Ascend thy car!
-And save a life, the bulwark of our war.”
-
-At this the hero cast a gloomy look,
-Fix’d on the chief with scorn; and thus he spoke:
-
-“Me dost thou bid to shun the coming fight?
-Me wouldst thou move to base, inglorious flight?
-Know, ’tis not honest in my soul to fear,
-Nor was Tydides born to tremble here.
-I hate the cumbrous chariot’s slow advance,
-And the long distance of the flying lance;
-But while my nerves are strong, my force entire,
-Thus front the foe, and emulate my sire.
-Nor shall yon steeds, that fierce to fight convey
-Those threatening heroes, bear them both away;
-One chief at least beneath this arm shall die;
-So Pallas tells me, and forbids to fly.
-But if she dooms, and if no god withstand,
-That both shall fall by one victorious hand,
-Then heed my words: my horses here detain,
-Fix’d to the chariot by the straiten’d rein;
-Swift to Æneas’ empty seat proceed,
-And seize the coursers of ethereal breed;
-The race of those, which once the thundering god[146]
-For ravish’d Ganymede on Tros bestow’d,
-The best that e’er on earth’s broad surface run,
-Beneath the rising or the setting sun.
-Hence great Anchises stole a breed unknown,
-By mortal mares, from fierce Laomedon:
-Four of this race his ample stalls contain,
-And two transport Æneas o’er the plain.
-These, were the rich immortal prize our own,
-Through the wide world should make our glory known.”
-
-Thus while they spoke, the foe came furious on,
-And stern Lycaon’s warlike race begun:
-
-“Prince, thou art met. Though late in vain assail’d,
-The spear may enter where the arrow fail’d.”
-
-He said, then shook the ponderous lance, and flung;
-On his broad shield the sounding weapon rung,
-Pierced the tough orb, and in his cuirass hung,
-“He bleeds! the pride of Greece! (the boaster cries,)
-Our triumph now, the mighty warrior lies!”
-“Mistaken vaunter! (Diomed replied;)
-Thy dart has erred, and now my spear be tried;
-Ye ’scape not both; one, headlong from his car,
-With hostile blood shall glut the god of war.”
-
-He spoke, and rising hurl’d his forceful dart,
-Which, driven by Pallas, pierced a vital part;
-Full in his face it enter’d, and betwixt
-The nose and eye-ball the proud Lycian fix’d;
-Crash’d all his jaws, and cleft the tongue within,
-Till the bright point look’d out beneath the chin.
-Headlong he falls, his helmet knocks the ground:
-Earth groans beneath him, and his arms resound;
-The starting coursers tremble with affright;
-The soul indignant seeks the realms of night.
-
-To guard his slaughter’d friend, Æneas flies,
-His spear extending where the carcase lies;
-Watchful he wheels, protects it every way,
-As the grim lion stalks around his prey.
-O’er the fall’n trunk his ample shield display’d,
-He hides the hero with his mighty shade,
-And threats aloud! the Greeks with longing eyes
-Behold at distance, but forbear the prize.
-Then fierce Tydides stoops; and from the fields
-Heaved with vast force, a rocky fragment wields.
-Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,
-Such men as live in these degenerate days:[147]
-He swung it round; and, gathering strength to throw,
-Discharged the ponderous ruin at the foe.
-Where to the hip the inserted thigh unites,
-Full on the bone the pointed marble lights;
-Through both the tendons broke the rugged stone,
-And stripp’d the skin, and crack’d the solid bone.
-Sunk on his knees, and staggering with his pains,
-His falling bulk his bended arm sustains;
-Lost in a dizzy mist the warrior lies;
-A sudden cloud comes swimming o’er his eyes.
-There the brave chief, who mighty numbers sway’d,
-Oppress’d had sunk to death’s eternal shade,
-But heavenly Venus, mindful of the love
-She bore Anchises in the Idaean grove,
-His danger views with anguish and despair,
-And guards her offspring with a mother’s care.
-About her much-loved son her arms she throws,
-Her arms whose whiteness match the falling snows.
-Screen’d from the foe behind her shining veil,
-The swords wave harmless, and the javelins fail;
-Safe through the rushing horse, and feather’d flight
-Of sounding shafts, she bears him from the fight.
-
-Nor Sthenelus, with unassisting hands,
-Remain’d unheedful of his lord’s commands:
-His panting steeds, removed from out the war,
-He fix’d with straiten’d traces to the car,
-Next, rushing to the Dardan spoil, detains
-The heavenly coursers with the flowing manes:
-These in proud triumph to the fleet convey’d,
-No longer now a Trojan lord obey’d.
-That charge to bold Deipylus he gave,
-(Whom most he loved, as brave men love the brave,)
-Then mounting on his car, resumed the rein,
-And follow’d where Tydides swept the plain.
-
-Meanwhile (his conquest ravished from his eyes)
-The raging chief in chase of Venus flies:
-No goddess she, commission’d to the field,
-Like Pallas dreadful with her sable shield,
-Or fierce Bellona thundering at the wall,
-While flames ascend, and mighty ruins fall;
-He knew soft combats suit the tender dame,
-New to the field, and still a foe to fame.
-Through breaking ranks his furious course he bends,
-And at the goddess his broad lance extends;
-Through her bright veil the daring weapon drove,
-The ambrosial veil which all the Graces wove;
-Her snowy hand the razing steel profaned,
-And the transparent skin with crimson stain’d,
-From the clear vein a stream immortal flow’d,
-Such stream as issues from a wounded god;[148]
-Pure emanation! uncorrupted flood!
-Unlike our gross, diseased, terrestrial blood:
-(For not the bread of man their life sustains,
-Nor wine’s inflaming juice supplies their veins:)
-With tender shrieks the goddess fill’d the place,
-And dropp’d her offspring from her weak embrace.
-Him Phœbus took: he casts a cloud around
-The fainting chief, and wards the mortal wound.
-
-Then with a voice that shook the vaulted skies,
-The king insults the goddess as she flies:
-“Ill with Jove’s daughter bloody fights agree,
-The field of combat is no scene for thee:
-Go, let thy own soft sex employ thy care,
-Go, lull the coward, or delude the fair.
-Taught by this stroke renounce the war’s alarms,
-And learn to tremble at the name of arms.”
-
-Tydides thus. The goddess, seized with dread,
-Confused, distracted, from the conflict fled.
-To aid her, swift the winged Iris flew,
-Wrapt in a mist above the warring crew.
-The queen of love with faded charms she found.
-Pale was her cheek, and livid look’d the wound.
-To Mars, who sat remote, they bent their way:
-Far, on the left, with clouds involved he lay;
-Beside him stood his lance, distain’d with gore,
-And, rein’d with gold, his foaming steeds before.
-Low at his knee, she begg’d with streaming eyes
-Her brother’s car, to mount the distant skies,
-And show’d the wound by fierce Tydides given,
-A mortal man, who dares encounter heaven.
-Stern Mars attentive hears the queen complain,
-And to her hand commits the golden rein;
-She mounts the seat, oppress’d with silent woe,
-Driven by the goddess of the painted bow.
-The lash resounds, the rapid chariot flies,
-And in a moment scales the lofty skies:
-They stopp’d the car, and there the coursers stood,
-Fed by fair Iris with ambrosial food;
-Before her mother, love’s bright queen appears,
-O’erwhelmed with anguish, and dissolved in tears:
-She raised her in her arms, beheld her bleed,
-And ask’d what god had wrought this guilty deed?
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VENUS, WOUNDED IN THE HAND, CONDUCTED BY IRIS TO MARS
-
-
-Then she: “This insult from no god I found,
-An impious mortal gave the daring wound!
-Behold the deed of haughty Diomed!
-’Twas in the son’s defence the mother bled.
-The war with Troy no more the Grecians wage;
-But with the gods (the immortal gods) engage.”
-
-Dione then: “Thy wrongs with patience bear,
-And share those griefs inferior powers must share:
-Unnumber’d woes mankind from us sustain,
-And men with woes afflict the gods again.
-The mighty Mars in mortal fetters bound,[149]
-And lodged in brazen dungeons underground,
-Full thirteen moons imprison’d roar’d in vain;
-Otus and Ephialtes held the chain:
-Perhaps had perish’d had not Hermes’ care
-Restored the groaning god to upper air.
-Great Juno’s self has borne her weight of pain,
-The imperial partner of the heavenly reign;
-Amphitryon’s son infix’d the deadly dart,[150]
-And fill’d with anguish her immortal heart.
-E’en hell’s grim king Alcides’ power confess’d,
-The shaft found entrance in his iron breast;
-To Jove’s high palace for a cure he fled,
-Pierced in his own dominions of the dead;
-Where Paeon, sprinkling heavenly balm around,
-Assuaged the glowing pangs, and closed the wound.
-Rash, impious man! to stain the bless’d abodes,
-And drench his arrows in the blood of gods!
-
-
-[Illustration: ] OTUS AND EPHIALTES HOLDING MARS CAPTIVE
-
-
-“But thou (though Pallas urged thy frantic deed),
-Whose spear ill-fated makes a goddess bleed,
-Know thou, whoe’er with heavenly power contends,
-Short is his date, and soon his glory ends;
-From fields of death when late he shall retire,
-No infant on his knees shall call him sire.
-Strong as thou art, some god may yet be found,
-To stretch thee pale and gasping on the ground;
-Thy distant wife, Ægialé the fair,[151]
-Starting from sleep with a distracted air,
-Shall rouse thy slaves, and her lost lord deplore,
-The brave, the great, the glorious now no more!”
-
-This said, she wiped from Venus’ wounded palm
-The sacred ichor, and infused the balm.
-Juno and Pallas with a smile survey’d,
-And thus to Jove began the blue-eyed maid:
-
-“Permit thy daughter, gracious Jove! to tell
-How this mischance the Cyprian queen befell,
-As late she tried with passion to inflame
-The tender bosom of a Grecian dame;
-Allured the fair, with moving thoughts of joy,
-To quit her country for some youth of Troy;
-The clasping zone, with golden buckles bound,
-Razed her soft hand with this lamented wound.”
-
-The sire of gods and men superior smiled,
-And, calling Venus, thus address’d his child:
-“Not these, O daughter are thy proper cares,
-Thee milder arts befit, and softer wars;
-Sweet smiles are thine, and kind endearing charms;
-To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms.”
-
-Thus they in heaven: while on the plain below
-The fierce Tydides charged his Dardan foe,
-Flush’d with celestial blood pursued his way,
-And fearless dared the threatening god of day;
-Already in his hopes he saw him kill’d,
-Though screen’d behind Apollo’s mighty shield.
-Thrice rushing furious, at the chief he strook;
-His blazing buckler thrice Apollo shook:
-He tried the fourth: when, breaking from the cloud,
-A more than mortal voice was heard aloud.
-
-“O son of Tydeus, cease! be wise and see
-How vast the difference of the gods and thee;
-Distance immense! between the powers that shine
-Above, eternal, deathless, and divine,
-And mortal man! a wretch of humble birth,
-A short-lived reptile in the dust of earth.”
-
-So spoke the god who darts celestial fires:
-He dreads his fury, and some steps retires.
-Then Phœbus bore the chief of Venus’ race
-To Troy’s high fane, and to his holy place;
-Latona there and Phoebe heal’d the wound,
-With vigour arm’d him, and with glory crown’d.
-This done, the patron of the silver bow
-A phantom raised, the same in shape and show
-With great Æneas; such the form he bore,
-And such in fight the radiant arms he wore.
-Around the spectre bloody wars are waged,
-And Greece and Troy with clashing shields engaged.
-Meantime on Ilion’s tower Apollo stood,
-And calling Mars, thus urged the raging god:
-
-“Stern power of arms, by whom the mighty fall;
-Who bathest in blood, and shakest the embattled wall,
-Rise in thy wrath! to hell’s abhorr’d abodes
-Despatch yon Greek, and vindicate the gods.
-First rosy Venus felt his brutal rage;
-Me next he charged, and dares all heaven engage:
-The wretch would brave high heaven’s immortal sire,
-His triple thunder, and his bolts of fire.”
-
-The god of battle issues on the plain,
-Stirs all the ranks, and fires the Trojan train;
-In form like Acamas, the Thracian guide,
-Enraged to Troy’s retiring chiefs he cried:
-
-“How long, ye sons of Priam! will ye fly,
-And unrevenged see Priam’s people die?
-Still unresisted shall the foe destroy,
-And stretch the slaughter to the gates of Troy?
-Lo, brave Æneas sinks beneath his wound,
-Not godlike Hector more in arms renown’d:
-Haste all, and take the generous warrior’s part.
-He said;—new courage swell’d each hero’s heart.
-Sarpedon first his ardent soul express’d,
-And, turn’d to Hector, these bold words address’d:
-
-“Say, chief, is all thy ancient valour lost?
-Where are thy threats, and where thy glorious boast,
-That propp’d alone by Priam’s race should stand
-Troy’s sacred walls, nor need a foreign hand?
-Now, now thy country calls her wonted friends,
-And the proud vaunt in just derision ends.
-Remote they stand while alien troops engage,
-Like trembling hounds before the lion’s rage.
-Far distant hence I held my wide command,
-Where foaming Xanthus laves the Lycian land;
-With ample wealth (the wish of mortals) bless’d,
-A beauteous wife, and infant at her breast;
-With those I left whatever dear could be:
-Greece, if she conquers, nothing wins from me;
-Yet first in fight my Lycian bands I cheer,
-And long to meet this mighty man ye fear;
-While Hector idle stands, nor bids the brave
-Their wives, their infants, and their altars save.
-Haste, warrior, haste! preserve thy threaten’d state,
-Or one vast burst of all-involving fate
-Full o’er your towers shall fall, and sweep away
-Sons, sires, and wives, an undistinguish’d prey.
-Rouse all thy Trojans, urge thy aids to fight;
-These claim thy thoughts by day, thy watch by night;
-With force incessant the brave Greeks oppose;
-Such cares thy friends deserve, and such thy foes.”
-
-Stung to the heart the generous Hector hears,
-But just reproof with decent silence bears.
-From his proud car the prince impetuous springs,
-On earth he leaps, his brazen armour rings.
-Two shining spears are brandish’d in his hands;
-Thus arm’d, he animates his drooping bands,
-Revives their ardour, turns their steps from flight,
-And wakes anew the dying flames of fight.
-They turn, they stand; the Greeks their fury dare,
-Condense their powers, and wait the growing war.
-
-As when, on Ceres’ sacred floor, the swain
-Spreads the wide fan to clear the golden grain,
-And the light chaff, before the breezes borne,
-Ascends in clouds from off the heapy corn;
-The grey dust, rising with collected winds,
-Drives o’er the barn, and whitens all the hinds:
-So white with dust the Grecian host appears,
-From trampling steeds, and thundering charioteers.
-The dusky clouds from labour’d earth arise,
-And roll in smoking volumes to the skies.
-Mars hovers o’er them with his sable shield,
-And adds new horrors to the darken’d field:
-Pleased with his charge, and ardent to fulfil,
-In Troy’s defence, Apollo’s heavenly will:
-Soon as from fight the blue-eyed maid retires,
-Each Trojan bosom with new warmth he fires.
-And now the god, from forth his sacred fane,
-Produced Æneas to the shouting train;
-Alive, unharm’d, with all his peers around,
-Erect he stood, and vigorous from his wound:
-Inquiries none they made; the dreadful day
-No pause of words admits, no dull delay;
-Fierce Discord storms, Apollo loud exclaims,
-Fame calls, Mars thunders, and the field’s in flames.
-
-Stern Diomed with either Ajax stood,
-And great Ulysses, bathed in hostile blood.
-Embodied close, the labouring Grecian train
-The fiercest shock of charging hosts sustain.
-Unmoved and silent, the whole war they wait
-Serenely dreadful, and as fix’d as fate.
-So when the embattled clouds in dark array,
-Along the skies their gloomy lines display;
-When now the North his boisterous rage has spent,
-And peaceful sleeps the liquid element:
-The low-hung vapours, motionless and still,
-Rest on the summits of the shaded hill;
-Till the mass scatters as the winds arise,
-Dispersed and broken through the ruffled skies.
-
-Nor was the general wanting to his train;
-From troop to troop he toils through all the plain,
-“Ye Greeks, be men! the charge of battle bear;
-Your brave associates and yourselves revere!
-Let glorious acts more glorious acts inspire,
-And catch from breast to breast the noble fire!
-On valour’s side the odds of combat lie,
-The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
-The wretch who trembles in the field of fame,
-Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame!”
-
-These words he seconds with his flying lance,
-To meet whose point was strong Deicoon’s chance:
-Æneas’ friend, and in his native place
-Honour’d and loved like Priam’s royal race:
-Long had he fought the foremost in the field,
-But now the monarch’s lance transpierced his shield:
-His shield too weak the furious dart to stay,
-Through his broad belt the weapon forced its way:
-The grisly wound dismiss’d his soul to hell,
-His arms around him rattled as he fell.
-
-Then fierce Æneas, brandishing his blade,
-In dust Orsilochus and Crethon laid,
-Whose sire Diocleus, wealthy, brave and great,
-In well-built Pheræ held his lofty seat:[152]
-Sprung from Alpheus’ plenteous stream, that yields
-Increase of harvests to the Pylian fields.
-He got Orsilochus, Diocleus he,
-And these descended in the third degree.
-Too early expert in the martial toil,
-In sable ships they left their native soil,
-To avenge Atrides: now, untimely slain,
-They fell with glory on the Phrygian plain.
-So two young mountain lions, nursed with blood
-In deep recesses of the gloomy wood,
-Rush fearless to the plains, and uncontroll’d
-Depopulate the stalls and waste the fold:
-Till pierced at distance from their native den,
-O’erpowered they fall beneath the force of men.
-Prostrate on earth their beauteous bodies lay,
-Like mountain firs, as tall and straight as they.
-Great Menelaus views with pitying eyes,
-Lifts his bright lance, and at the victor flies;
-Mars urged him on; yet, ruthless in his hate,
-The god but urged him to provoke his fate.
-He thus advancing, Nestor’s valiant son
-Shakes for his danger, and neglects his own;
-Struck with the thought, should Helen’s lord be slain,
-And all his country’s glorious labours vain.
-Already met, the threatening heroes stand;
-The spears already tremble in their hand:
-In rush’d Antilochus, his aid to bring,
-And fall or conquer by the Spartan king.
-These seen, the Dardan backward turn’d his course,
-Brave as he was, and shunn’d unequal force.
-The breathless bodies to the Greeks they drew,
-Then mix in combat, and their toils renew.
-
-First, Pylæmenes, great in battle, bled,
-Who sheathed in brass the Paphlagonians led.
-Atrides mark’d him where sublime he stood;
-Fix’d in his throat the javelin drank his blood.
-The faithful Mydon, as he turn’d from fight
-His flying coursers, sunk to endless night;
-A broken rock by Nestor’s son was thrown:
-His bended arm received the falling stone;
-From his numb’d hand the ivory-studded reins,
-Dropp’d in the dust, are trail’d along the plains:
-Meanwhile his temples feel a deadly wound;
-He groans in death, and ponderous sinks to ground:
-Deep drove his helmet in the sands, and there
-The head stood fix’d, the quivering legs in air,
-Till trampled flat beneath the coursers’ feet:
-The youthful victor mounts his empty seat,
-And bears the prize in triumph to the fleet.
-
-Great Hector saw, and, raging at the view,
-Pours on the Greeks: the Trojan troops pursue:
-He fires his host with animating cries,
-And brings along the furies of the skies,
-Mars, stern destroyer! and Bellona dread,
-Flame in the front, and thunder at their head:
-This swells the tumult and the rage of fight;
-That shakes a spear that casts a dreadful light.
-Where Hector march’d, the god of battles shined,
-Now storm’d before him, and now raged behind.
-
-Tydides paused amidst his full career;
-Then first the hero’s manly breast knew fear.
-As when some simple swain his cot forsakes,
-And wide through fens an unknown journey takes:
-If chance a swelling brook his passage stay,
-And foam impervious ’cross the wanderer’s way,
-Confused he stops, a length of country pass’d,
-Eyes the rough waves, and tired, returns at last.
-Amazed no less the great Tydides stands:
-He stay’d, and turning thus address’d his bands:
-
-“No wonder, Greeks! that all to Hector yield;
-Secure of favouring gods, he takes the field;
-His strokes they second, and avert our spears.
-Behold where Mars in mortal arms appears!
-Retire then, warriors, but sedate and slow;
-Retire, but with your faces to the foe.
-Trust not too much your unavailing might;
-’Tis not with Troy, but with the gods ye fight.”
-
-Now near the Greeks the black battalions drew;
-And first two leaders valiant Hector slew:
-His force Anchialus and Mnesthes found,
-In every art of glorious war renown’d;
-In the same car the chiefs to combat ride,
-And fought united, and united died.
-Struck at the sight, the mighty Ajax glows
-With thirst of vengeance, and assaults the foes.
-His massy spear with matchless fury sent,
-Through Amphius’ belt and heaving belly went;
-Amphius Apæsus’ happy soil possess’d,
-With herds abounding, and with treasure bless’d;
-But fate resistless from his country led
-The chief, to perish at his people’s head.
-Shook with his fall his brazen armour rung,
-And fierce, to seize it, conquering Ajax sprung;
-Around his head an iron tempest rain’d;
-A wood of spears his ample shield sustain’d:
-Beneath one foot the yet warm corpse he press’d,
-And drew his javelin from the bleeding breast:
-He could no more; the showering darts denied
-To spoil his glittering arms, and plumy pride.
-Now foes on foes came pouring on the fields,
-With bristling lances, and compacted shields;
-Till in the steely circle straiten’d round,
-Forced he gives way, and sternly quits the ground.
-
-While thus they strive, Tlepolemus the great,[153]
-Urged by the force of unresisted fate,
-Burns with desire Sarpedon’s strength to prove;
-Alcides’ offspring meets the son of Jove.
-Sheathed in bright arms each adverse chief came on.
-Jove’s great descendant, and his greater son.
-Prepared for combat, ere the lance he toss’d,
-The daring Rhodian vents his haughty boast:
-
-“What brings this Lycian counsellor so far,
-To tremble at our arms, not mix in war!
-Know thy vain self, nor let their flattery move,
-Who style thee son of cloud-compelling Jove.
-How far unlike those chiefs of race divine,
-How vast the difference of their deeds and thine!
-Jove got such heroes as my sire, whose soul
-No fear could daunt, nor earth nor hell control.
-Troy felt his arm, and yon proud ramparts stand
-Raised on the ruins of his vengeful hand:
-With six small ships, and but a slender train,
-He left the town a wide-deserted plain.
-But what art thou, who deedless look’st around,
-While unrevenged thy Lycians bite the ground!
-Small aid to Troy thy feeble force can be;
-But wert thou greater, thou must yield to me.
-Pierced by my spear, to endless darkness go!
-I make this present to the shades below.”
-
-The son of Hercules, the Rhodian guide,
-Thus haughty spoke. The Lycian king replied:
-
-“Thy sire, O prince! o’erturn’d the Trojan state,
-Whose perjured monarch well deserved his fate;
-Those heavenly steeds the hero sought so far,
-False he detain’d, the just reward of war.
-Nor so content, the generous chief defied,
-With base reproaches and unmanly pride.
-But you, unworthy the high race you boast,
-Shall raise my glory when thy own is lost:
-Now meet thy fate, and by Sarpedon slain,
-Add one more ghost to Pluto’s gloomy reign.”
-
-He said: both javelins at an instant flew;
-Both struck, both wounded, but Sarpedon’s slew:
-Full in the boaster’s neck the weapon stood,
-Transfix’d his throat, and drank the vital blood;
-The soul disdainful seeks the caves of night,
-And his seal’d eyes for ever lose the light.
-
-Yet not in vain, Tlepolemus, was thrown
-Thy angry lance; which piercing to the bone
-Sarpedon’s thigh, had robb’d the chief of breath;
-But Jove was present, and forbade the death.
-Borne from the conflict by his Lycian throng,
-The wounded hero dragg’d the lance along.
-(His friends, each busied in his several part,
-Through haste, or danger, had not drawn the dart.)
-The Greeks with slain Tlepolemus retired;
-Whose fall Ulysses view’d, with fury fired;
-Doubtful if Jove’s great son he should pursue,
-Or pour his vengeance on the Lycian crew.
-But heaven and fate the first design withstand,
-Nor this great death must grace Ulysses’ hand.
-Minerva drives him on the Lycian train;
-Alastor, Cronius, Halius, strew’d the plain,
-Alcander, Prytanis, Noëmon fell:[154]
-And numbers more his sword had sent to hell,
-But Hector saw; and, furious at the sight,
-Rush’d terrible amidst the ranks of fight.
-With joy Sarpedon view’d the wish’d relief,
-And, faint, lamenting, thus implored the chief:
-
-“O suffer not the foe to bear away
-My helpless corpse, an unassisted prey;
-If I, unbless’d, must see my son no more,
-My much-loved consort, and my native shore,
-Yet let me die in Ilion’s sacred wall;
-Troy, in whose cause I fell, shall mourn my fall.”
-
-He said, nor Hector to the chief replies,
-But shakes his plume, and fierce to combat flies;
-Swift as a whirlwind, drives the scattering foes;
-And dyes the ground with purple as he goes.
-
-Beneath a beech, Jove’s consecrated shade,
-His mournful friends divine Sarpedon laid:
-Brave Pelagon, his favourite chief, was nigh,
-Who wrench’d the javelin from his sinewy thigh.
-The fainting soul stood ready wing’d for flight,
-And o’er his eye-balls swam the shades of night;
-But Boreas rising fresh, with gentle breath,
-Recall’d his spirit from the gates of death.
-
-The generous Greeks recede with tardy pace,
-Though Mars and Hector thunder in their face;
-None turn their backs to mean ignoble flight,
-Slow they retreat, and even retreating fight.
-Who first, who last, by Mars’ and Hector’s hand,
-Stretch’d in their blood, lay gasping on the sand?
-Tenthras the great, Orestes the renown’d
-For managed steeds, and Trechus press’d the ground;
-Next Œnomaus and OEnops’ offspring died;
-Oresbius last fell groaning at their side:
-Oresbius, in his painted mitre gay,
-In fat Bœotia held his wealthy sway,
-Where lakes surround low Hylè’s watery plain;
-A prince and people studious of their gain.
-
-The carnage Juno from the skies survey’d,
-And touch’d with grief bespoke the blue-eyed maid:
-“Oh, sight accursed! Shall faithless Troy prevail,
-And shall our promise to our people fail?
-How vain the word to Menelaus given
-By Jove’s great daughter and the queen of heaven,
-Beneath his arms that Priam’s towers should fall,
-If warring gods for ever guard the wall!
-Mars, red with slaughter, aids our hated foes:
-Haste, let us arm, and force with force oppose!”
-
-She spoke; Minerva burns to meet the war:
-And now heaven’s empress calls her blazing car.
-At her command rush forth the steeds divine;
-Rich with immortal gold their trappings shine.
-Bright Hebe waits; by Hebe, ever young,
-The whirling wheels are to the chariot hung.
-On the bright axle turns the bidden wheel
-Of sounding brass; the polished axle steel.
-Eight brazen spokes in radiant order flame;
-The circles gold, of uncorrupted frame,
-Such as the heavens produce: and round the gold
-Two brazen rings of work divine were roll’d.
-The bossy naves of sold silver shone;
-Braces of gold suspend the moving throne:
-The car, behind, an arching figure bore;
-The bending concave form’d an arch before.
-Silver the beam, the extended yoke was gold,
-And golden reins the immortal coursers hold.
-Herself, impatient, to the ready car,
-The coursers joins, and breathes revenge and war.
-
-Pallas disrobes; her radiant veil untied,
-With flowers adorn’d, with art diversified,
-(The laboured veil her heavenly fingers wove,)
-Flows on the pavement of the court of Jove.
-Now heaven’s dread arms her mighty limbs invest,
-Jove’s cuirass blazes on her ample breast;
-Deck’d in sad triumph for the mournful field,
-O’er her broad shoulders hangs his horrid shield,
-Dire, black, tremendous! Round the margin roll’d,
-A fringe of serpents hissing guards the gold:
-Here all the terrors of grim War appear,
-Here rages Force, here tremble Flight and Fear,
-Here storm’d Contention, and here Fury frown’d,
-And the dire orb portentous Gorgon crown’d.
-The massy golden helm she next assumes,
-That dreadful nods with four o’ershading plumes;
-So vast, the broad circumference contains
-A hundred armies on a hundred plains.
-The goddess thus the imperial car ascends;
-Shook by her arm the mighty javelin bends,
-Ponderous and huge; that when her fury burns,
-Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o’erturns.
-
-Swift at the scourge the ethereal coursers fly,
-While the smooth chariot cuts the liquid sky.
-Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers,[155]
-Heaven’s golden gates, kept by the winged Hours;[156]
-Commission’d in alternate watch they stand,
-The sun’s bright portals and the skies command,
-Involve in clouds the eternal gates of day,
-Or the dark barrier roll with ease away.
-The sounding hinges ring, on either side
-The gloomy volumes, pierced with light, divide.
-The chariot mounts, where deep in ambient skies,
-Confused, Olympus’ hundred heads arise;
-Where far apart the Thunderer fills his throne,
-O’er all the gods superior and alone.
-There with her snowy hand the queen restrains
-The fiery steeds, and thus to Jove complains:
-
-“O sire! can no resentment touch thy soul?
-Can Mars rebel, and does no thunder roll?
-What lawless rage on yon forbidden plain,
-What rash destruction! and what heroes slain!
-Venus, and Phœbus with the dreadful bow,
-Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe.
-Mad, furious power! whose unrelenting mind
-No god can govern, and no justice bind.
-Say, mighty father! shall we scourge this pride,
-And drive from fight the impetuous homicide?”
-
-To whom assenting, thus the Thunderer said:
-“Go! and the great Minerva be thy aid.
-To tame the monster-god Minerva knows,
-And oft afflicts his brutal breast with woes.”
-
-He said; Saturnia, ardent to obey,
-Lash’d her white steeds along the aerial way.
-Swift down the steep of heaven the chariot rolls,
-Between the expanded earth and starry poles.
-Far as a shepherd, from some point on high,[157]
-O’er the wide main extends his boundless eye,
-Through such a space of air, with thundering sound,
-At every leap the immortal coursers bound
-Troy now they reach’d and touch’d those banks divine,
-Where silver Simois and Scamander join.
-There Juno stopp’d, and (her fair steeds unloosed)
-Of air condensed a vapour circumfused:
-For these, impregnate with celestial dew,
-On Simois’ brink ambrosial herbage grew.
-Thence to relieve the fainting Argive throng,
-Smooth as the sailing doves they glide along.
-
-The best and bravest of the Grecian band
-(A warlike circle) round Tydides stand.
-Such was their look as lions bathed in blood,
-Or foaming boars, the terror of the wood.
-Heaven’s empress mingles with the mortal crowd,
-And shouts, in Stentor’s sounding voice, aloud;
-Stentor the strong, endued with brazen lungs,[158]
-Whose throats surpass’d the force of fifty tongues.
-
-“Inglorious Argives! to your race a shame,
-And only men in figure and in name!
-Once from the walls your timorous foes engaged,
-While fierce in war divine Achilles raged;
-Now issuing fearless they possess the plain,
-Now win the shores, and scarce the seas remain.”
-
-Her speech new fury to their hearts convey’d;
-While near Tydides stood the Athenian maid;
-The king beside his panting steeds she found,
-O’erspent with toil reposing on the ground;
-To cool his glowing wound he sat apart,
-(The wound inflicted by the Lycian dart.)
-Large drops of sweat from all his limbs descend,
-Beneath his ponderous shield his sinews bend,
-Whose ample belt, that o’er his shoulder lay,
-He eased; and wash’d the clotted gore away.
-The goddess leaning o’er the bending yoke,
-Beside his coursers, thus her silence broke:
-
-“Degenerate prince! and not of Tydeus’ kind,
-Whose little body lodged a mighty mind;
-Foremost he press’d in glorious toils to share,
-And scarce refrain’d when I forbade the war.
-Alone, unguarded, once he dared to go,
-And feast, incircled by the Theban foe;
-There braved, and vanquish’d, many a hardy knight;
-Such nerves I gave him, and such force in fight.
-Thou too no less hast been my constant care;
-Thy hands I arm’d, and sent thee forth to war:
-But thee or fear deters, or sloth detains;
-No drop of all thy father warms thy veins.”
-
-The chief thus answered mild: “Immortal maid!
-I own thy presence, and confess thy aid.
-Not fear, thou know’st, withholds me from the plains,
-Nor sloth hath seized me, but thy word restrains:
-From warring gods thou bad’st me turn my spear,
-And Venus only found resistance here.
-Hence, goddess! heedful of thy high commands,
-Loth I gave way, and warn’d our Argive bands:
-For Mars, the homicide, these eyes beheld,
-With slaughter red, and raging round the field.”
-
-Then thus Minerva:—“Brave Tydides, hear!
-Not Mars himself, nor aught immortal, fear.
-Full on the god impel thy foaming horse:
-Pallas commands, and Pallas lends thee force.
-Rash, furious, blind, from these to those he flies,
-And every side of wavering combat tries;
-Large promise makes, and breaks the promise made:
-Now gives the Grecians, now the Trojans aid.”[159]
-
-She said, and to the steeds approaching near,
-Drew from his seat the martial charioteer.
-The vigorous power the trembling car ascends,
-Fierce for revenge; and Diomed attends:
-The groaning axle bent beneath the load;
-So great a hero, and so great a god.
-She snatch’d the reins, she lash’d with all her force,
-And full on Mars impelled the foaming horse:
-But first, to hide her heavenly visage, spread
-Black Orcus’ helmet o’er her radiant head.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] DIOMED CASTING HIS SPEAR AT MARS
-
-
-Just then gigantic Periphas lay slain,
-The strongest warrior of the Ætolian train;
-The god, who slew him, leaves his prostrate prize
-Stretch’d where he fell, and at Tydides flies.
-Now rushing fierce, in equal arms appear
-The daring Greek, the dreadful god of war!
-Full at the chief, above his courser’s head,
-From Mars’s arm the enormous weapon fled:
-Pallas opposed her hand, and caused to glance
-Far from the car the strong immortal lance.
-Then threw the force of Tydeus’ warlike son;
-The javelin hiss’d; the goddess urged it on:
-Where the broad cincture girt his armour round,
-It pierced the god: his groin received the wound.
-From the rent skin the warrior tugs again
-The smoking steel. Mars bellows with the pain:
-Loud as the roar encountering armies yield,
-When shouting millions shake the thundering field.
-Both armies start, and trembling gaze around;
-And earth and heaven re-bellow to the sound.
-As vapours blown by Auster’s sultry breath,
-Pregnant with plagues, and shedding seeds of death,
-Beneath the rage of burning Sirius rise,
-Choke the parch’d earth, and blacken all the skies;
-In such a cloud the god from combat driven,
-High o’er the dusky whirlwind scales the heaven.
-Wild with his pain, he sought the bright abodes,
-There sullen sat beneath the sire of gods,
-Show’d the celestial blood, and with a groan
-Thus pour’d his plaints before the immortal throne:
-
-“Can Jove, supine, flagitious facts survey,
-And brook the furies of this daring day?
-For mortal men celestial powers engage,
-And gods on gods exert eternal rage:
-From thee, O father! all these ills we bear,
-And thy fell daughter with the shield and spear;
-Thou gavest that fury to the realms of light,
-Pernicious, wild, regardless of the right.
-All heaven beside reveres thy sovereign sway,
-Thy voice we hear, and thy behests obey:
-’Tis hers to offend, and even offending share
-Thy breast, thy counsels, thy distinguish’d care:
-So boundless she, and thou so partial grown,
-Well may we deem the wondrous birth thy own.
-Now frantic Diomed, at her command,
-Against the immortals lifts his raging hand:
-The heavenly Venus first his fury found,
-Me next encountering, me he dared to wound;
-Vanquish’d I fled; even I, the god of fight,
-From mortal madness scarce was saved by flight.
-Else hadst thou seen me sink on yonder plain,
-Heap’d round, and heaving under loads of slain!
-Or pierced with Grecian darts, for ages lie,
-Condemn’d to pain, though fated not to die.”
-
-Him thus upbraiding, with a wrathful look
-The lord of thunders view’d, and stern bespoke:
-“To me, perfidious! this lamenting strain?
-Of lawless force shall lawless Mars complain?
-Of all the gods who tread the spangled skies,
-Thou most unjust, most odious in our eyes!
-Inhuman discord is thy dire delight,
-The waste of slaughter, and the rage of fight.
-No bounds, no law, thy fiery temper quells,
-And all thy mother in thy soul rebels.
-In vain our threats, in vain our power we use;
-She gives the example, and her son pursues.
-Yet long the inflicted pangs thou shall not mourn,
-Sprung since thou art from Jove, and heavenly-born.
-Else, singed with lightning, hadst thou hence been thrown,
-Where chain’d on burning rocks the Titans groan.”
-
-Thus he who shakes Olympus with his nod;
-Then gave to Pæon’s care the bleeding god.[160]
-With gentle hand the balm he pour’d around,
-And heal’d the immortal flesh, and closed the wound.
-As when the fig’s press’d juice, infused in cream,
-To curds coagulates the liquid stream,
-Sudden the fluids fix the parts combined;
-Such, and so soon, the ethereal texture join’d.
-Cleansed from the dust and gore, fair Hebe dress’d
-His mighty limbs in an immortal vest.
-Glorious he sat, in majesty restored,
-Fast by the throne of heaven’s superior lord.
-Juno and Pallas mount the bless’d abodes,
-Their task perform’d, and mix among the gods.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] JUNO
-
-
-
-
-BOOK VI.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE EPISODES OF GLAUCUS AND DIOMED, AND OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
-
-
-The gods having left the field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the
-chief augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the city, in order to
-appoint a solemn procession of the queen and the Trojan matrons to the
-temple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. The
-battle relaxing during the absence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have
-an interview between the two armies; where, coming to the knowledge, of
-the friendship and hospitality passed between their ancestors, they
-make exchange of their arms. Hector, having performed the orders of
-Helenus, prevails upon Paris to return to the battle, and, taking a
-tender leave of his wife Andromache, hastens again to the field.
-    The scene is first in the field of battle, between the rivers
-    Simois and Scamander, and then changes to Troy.
-
-
-Now heaven forsakes the fight: the immortals yield
-To human force and human skill the field:
-Dark showers of javelins fly from foes to foes;
-Now here, now there, the tide of combat flows;
-While Troy’s famed streams, that bound the deathful plain
-On either side, run purple to the main.
-
-Great Ajax first to conquest led the way,
-Broke the thick ranks, and turn’d the doubtful day.
-The Thracian Acamas his falchion found,
-And hew’d the enormous giant to the ground;
-His thundering arm a deadly stroke impress’d
-Where the black horse-hair nodded o’er his crest;
-Fix’d in his front the brazen weapon lies,
-And seals in endless shades his swimming eyes.
-Next Teuthras’ son distain’d the sands with blood,
-Axylus, hospitable, rich, and good:
-In fair Arisbe’s walls (his native place)[161]
-He held his seat! a friend to human race.
-Fast by the road, his ever-open door
-Obliged the wealthy, and relieved the poor.
-To stern Tydides now he falls a prey,
-No friend to guard him in the dreadful day!
-Breathless the good man fell, and by his side
-His faithful servant, old Calesius died.
-
-By great Euryalus was Dresus slain,
-And next he laid Opheltius on the plain.
-Two twins were near, bold, beautiful, and young,
-From a fair naiad and Bucolion sprung:
-(Laomedon’s white flocks Bucolion fed,
-That monarch’s first-born by a foreign bed;
-In secret woods he won the naiad’s grace,
-And two fair infants crown’d his strong embrace:)
-Here dead they lay in all their youthful charms;
-The ruthless victor stripp’d their shining arms.
-
-Astyalus by Polypœtes fell;
-Ulysses’ spear Pidytes sent to hell;
-By Teucer’s shaft brave Aretaon bled,
-And Nestor’s son laid stern Ablerus dead;
-Great Agamemnon, leader of the brave,
-The mortal wound of rich Elatus gave,
-Who held in Pedasus his proud abode,[162]
-And till’d the banks where silver Satnio flow’d.
-Melanthius by Eurypylus was slain;
-And Phylacus from Leitus flies in vain.
-
-Unbless’d Adrastus next at mercy lies
-Beneath the Spartan spear, a living prize.
-Scared with the din and tumult of the fight,
-His headlong steeds, precipitate in flight,
-Rush’d on a tamarisk’s strong trunk, and broke
-The shatter’d chariot from the crooked yoke;
-Wide o’er the field, resistless as the wind,
-For Troy they fly, and leave their lord behind.
-Prone on his face he sinks beside the wheel:
-Atrides o’er him shakes his vengeful steel;
-The fallen chief in suppliant posture press’d
-The victor’s knees, and thus his prayer address’d:
-
-“O spare my youth, and for the life I owe
-Large gifts of price my father shall bestow.
-When fame shall tell, that, not in battle slain,
-Thy hollow ships his captive son detain:
-Rich heaps of brass shall in thy tent be told,[163]
-And steel well-temper’d, and persuasive gold.”
-
-He said: compassion touch’d the hero’s heart
-He stood, suspended with the lifted dart:
-As pity pleaded for his vanquish’d prize,
-Stern Agamemnon swift to vengeance flies,
-And, furious, thus: “Oh impotent of mind![164]
-Shall these, shall these Atrides’ mercy find?
-Well hast thou known proud Troy’s perfidious land,
-And well her natives merit at thy hand!
-Not one of all the race, nor sex, nor age,
-Shall save a Trojan from our boundless rage:
-Ilion shall perish whole, and bury all;
-Her babes, her infants at the breast, shall fall;[165]
-A dreadful lesson of exampled fate,
-To warn the nations, and to curb the great!”
-
-The monarch spoke; the words, with warmth address’d,
-To rigid justice steel’d his brother’s breast.
-Fierce from his knees the hapless chief he thrust;
-The monarch’s javelin stretch’d him in the dust,
-Then pressing with his foot his panting heart,
-Forth from the slain he tugg’d the reeking dart.
-Old Nestor saw, and roused the warrior’s rage;
-“Thus, heroes! thus the vigorous combat wage;
-No son of Mars descend, for servile gains,
-To touch the booty, while a foe remains.
-Behold yon glittering host, your future spoil!
-First gain the conquest, then reward the toil.”
-
-And now had Greece eternal fame acquired,
-And frighted Troy within her walls, retired,
-Had not sage Helenus her state redress’d,
-Taught by the gods that moved his sacred breast.
-Where Hector stood, with great Æneas join’d,
-The seer reveal’d the counsels of his mind:
-
-“Ye generous chiefs! on whom the immortals lay
-The cares and glories of this doubtful day;
-On whom your aids, your country’s hopes depend;
-Wise to consult, and active to defend!
-Here, at our gates, your brave efforts unite,
-Turn back the routed, and forbid the flight,
-Ere yet their wives’ soft arms the cowards gain,
-The sport and insult of the hostile train.
-When your commands have hearten’d every band,
-Ourselves, here fix’d, will make the dangerous stand;
-Press’d as we are, and sore of former fight,
-These straits demand our last remains of might.
-Meanwhile thou, Hector, to the town retire,
-And teach our mother what the gods require:
-Direct the queen to lead the assembled train
-Of Troy’s chief matrons to Minerva’s fane;[166]
-Unbar the sacred gates, and seek the power,
-With offer’d vows, in Ilion’s topmost tower.
-The largest mantle her rich wardrobes hold,
-Most prized for art, and labour’d o’er with gold,
-Before the goddess’ honour’d knees be spread,
-And twelve young heifers to her altars led:
-If so the power, atoned by fervent prayer,
-Our wives, our infants, and our city spare,
-And far avert Tydides’ wasteful ire,
-That mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire;
-Not thus Achilles taught our hosts to dread,
-Sprung though he was from more than mortal bed;
-Not thus resistless ruled the stream of fight,
-In rage unbounded, and unmatch’d in might.”
-
-Hector obedient heard: and, with a bound,
-Leap’d from his trembling chariot to the ground;
-Through all his host inspiring force he flies,
-And bids the thunder of the battle rise.
-With rage recruited the bold Trojans glow,
-And turn the tide of conflict on the foe:
-Fierce in the front he shakes two dazzling spears;
-All Greece recedes, and ’midst her triumphs fears;
-Some god, they thought, who ruled the fate of wars,
-Shot down avenging from the vault of stars.
-
-Then thus aloud: “Ye dauntless Dardans, hear!
-And you whom distant nations send to war!
-Be mindful of the strength your fathers bore;
-Be still yourselves, and Hector asks no more.
-One hour demands me in the Trojan wall,
-To bid our altars flame, and victims fall:
-Nor shall, I trust, the matrons’ holy train,
-And reverend elders, seek the gods in vain.”
-
-This said, with ample strides the hero pass’d;
-The shield’s large orb behind his shoulder cast,
-His neck o’ershading, to his ankle hung;
-And as he march’d the brazen buckler rung.
-
-Now paused the battle (godlike Hector gone),[167]
-Where daring Glaucus and great Tydeus’ son
-Between both armies met: the chiefs from far
-Observed each other, and had mark’d for war.
-Near as they drew, Tydides thus began:
-
-“What art thou, boldest of the race of man?
-Our eyes till now that aspect ne’er beheld,
-Where fame is reap’d amid the embattled field;
-Yet far before the troops thou dar’st appear,
-And meet a lance the fiercest heroes fear.
-Unhappy they, and born of luckless sires,
-Who tempt our fury when Minerva fires!
-But if from heaven, celestial, thou descend,
-Know with immortals we no more contend.
-Not long Lycurgus view’d the golden light,
-That daring man who mix’d with gods in fight.
-Bacchus, and Bacchus’ votaries, he drove,
-With brandish’d steel, from Nyssa’s sacred grove:
-Their consecrated spears lay scatter’d round,
-With curling vines and twisted ivy bound;
-While Bacchus headlong sought the briny flood,
-And Thetis’ arms received the trembling god.
-Nor fail’d the crime the immortals’ wrath to move;
-(The immortals bless’d with endless ease above;)
-Deprived of sight by their avenging doom,
-Cheerless he breathed, and wander’d in the gloom,
-Then sunk unpitied to the dire abodes,
-A wretch accursed, and hated by the gods!
-I brave not heaven: but if the fruits of earth
-Sustain thy life, and human be thy birth,
-Bold as thou art, too prodigal of breath,
-Approach, and enter the dark gates of death.”
-
-“What, or from whence I am, or who my sire,
-(Replied the chief,) can Tydeus’ son inquire?
-Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
-Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
-Another race the following spring supplies;
-They fall successive, and successive rise:
-So generations in their course decay;
-So flourish these, when those are pass’d away.
-But if thou still persist to search my birth,
-Then hear a tale that fills the spacious earth.
-
-“A city stands on Argos’ utmost bound,
-(Argos the fair, for warlike steeds renown’d,)
-Æolian Sisyphus, with wisdom bless’d,
-In ancient time the happy wall possess’d,
-Then call’d Ephyre: Glaucus was his son;
-Great Glaucus, father of Bellerophon,
-Who o’er the sons of men in beauty shined,
-Loved for that valour which preserves mankind.
-Then mighty Praetus Argos’ sceptre sway’d,
-Whose hard commands Bellerophon obey’d.
-With direful jealousy the monarch raged,
-And the brave prince in numerous toils engaged.
-For him Antaea burn’d with lawless flame,
-And strove to tempt him from the paths of fame:
-In vain she tempted the relentless youth,
-Endued with wisdom, sacred fear, and truth.
-Fired at his scorn the queen to Praetus fled,
-And begg’d revenge for her insulted bed:
-Incensed he heard, resolving on his fate;
-But hospitable laws restrain’d his hate:
-To Lycia the devoted youth he sent,
-With tablets seal’d, that told his dire intent.[168]
-Now bless’d by every power who guards the good,
-The chief arrived at Xanthus’ silver flood:
-There Lycia’s monarch paid him honours due,
-Nine days he feasted, and nine bulls he slew.
-But when the tenth bright morning orient glow’d,
-The faithful youth his monarch’s mandate show’d:
-The fatal tablets, till that instant seal’d,
-The deathful secret to the king reveal’d.
-First, dire Chimaera’s conquest was enjoin’d;
-A mingled monster of no mortal kind!
-Behind, a dragon’s fiery tail was spread;
-A goat’s rough body bore a lion’s head;
-Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames expire;
-Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.
-
-“This pest he slaughter’d, (for he read the skies,
-And trusted heaven’s informing prodigies,)
-Then met in arms the Solymæan crew,[169]
-(Fiercest of men,) and those the warrior slew;
-Next the bold Amazons’ whole force defied;
-And conquer’d still, for heaven was on his side.
-
-“Nor ended here his toils: his Lycian foes,
-At his return, a treacherous ambush rose,
-With levell’d spears along the winding shore:
-There fell they breathless, and return’d no more.
-
-“At length the monarch, with repentant grief,
-Confess’d the gods, and god-descended chief;
-His daughter gave, the stranger to detain,
-With half the honours of his ample reign:
-The Lycians grant a chosen space of ground,
-With woods, with vineyards, and with harvests crown’d.
-There long the chief his happy lot possess’d,
-With two brave sons and one fair daughter bless’d;
-(Fair e’en in heavenly eyes: her fruitful love
-Crown’d with Sarpedon’s birth the embrace of Jove;)
-But when at last, distracted in his mind,
-Forsook by heaven, forsaking humankind,
-Wide o’er the Aleian field he chose to stray,
-A long, forlorn, uncomfortable way![170]
-Woes heap’d on woes consumed his wasted heart:
-His beauteous daughter fell by Phoebe’s dart;
-His eldest born by raging Mars was slain,
-In combat on the Solymaean plain.
-Hippolochus survived: from him I came,
-The honour’d author of my birth and name;
-By his decree I sought the Trojan town;
-By his instructions learn to win renown,
-To stand the first in worth as in command,
-To add new honours to my native land,
-Before my eyes my mighty sires to place,
-And emulate the glories of our race.”
-
-He spoke, and transport fill’d Tydides’ heart;
-In earth the generous warrior fix’d his dart,
-Then friendly, thus the Lycian prince address’d:
-“Welcome, my brave hereditary guest!
-Thus ever let us meet, with kind embrace,
-Nor stain the sacred friendship of our race.
-Know, chief, our grandsires have been guests of old;
-Œneus the strong, Bellerophon the bold:
-Our ancient seat his honour’d presence graced,
-Where twenty days in genial rites he pass’d.
-The parting heroes mutual presents left;
-A golden goblet was thy grandsire’s gift;
-Œneus a belt of matchless work bestowed,
-That rich with Tyrian dye refulgent glow’d.
-(This from his pledge I learn’d, which, safely stored
-Among my treasures, still adorns my board:
-For Tydeus left me young, when Thebe’s wall
-Beheld the sons of Greece untimely fall.)
-Mindful of this, in friendship let us join;
-If heaven our steps to foreign lands incline,
-My guest in Argos thou, and I in Lycia thine.
-Enough of Trojans to this lance shall yield,
-In the full harvest of yon ample field;
-Enough of Greeks shall dye thy spear with gore;
-But thou and Diomed be foes no more.
-Now change we arms, and prove to either host
-We guard the friendship of the line we boast.”
-
-Thus having said, the gallant chiefs alight,
-Their hands they join, their mutual faith they plight;
-Brave Glaucus then each narrow thought resign’d,
-(Jove warm’d his bosom, and enlarged his mind,)
-For Diomed’s brass arms, of mean device,
-For which nine oxen paid, (a vulgar price,)
-He gave his own, of gold divinely wrought,[171]
-A hundred beeves the shining purchase bought.
-
-Meantime the guardian of the Trojan state,
-Great Hector, enter’d at the Scæan gate.[172]
-Beneath the beech-tree’s consecrated shades,
-The Trojan matrons and the Trojan maids
-Around him flock’d, all press’d with pious care
-For husbands, brothers, sons, engaged in war.
-He bids the train in long procession go,
-And seek the gods, to avert the impending woe.
-And now to Priam’s stately courts he came,
-Rais’d on arch’d columns of stupendous frame;
-O’er these a range of marble structure runs,
-The rich pavilions of his fifty sons,
-In fifty chambers lodged: and rooms of state,[173]
-Opposed to those, where Priam’s daughters sate.
-Twelve domes for them and their loved spouses shone,
-Of equal beauty, and of polish’d stone.
-Hither great Hector pass’d, nor pass’d unseen
-Of royal Hecuba, his mother-queen.
-(With her Laodice, whose beauteous face
-Surpass’d the nymphs of Troy’s illustrious race.)
-Long in a strict embrace she held her son,
-And press’d his hand, and tender thus begun:
-
-“O Hector! say, what great occasion calls
-My son from fight, when Greece surrounds our walls;
-Com’st thou to supplicate the almighty power
-With lifted hands, from Ilion’s lofty tower?
-Stay, till I bring the cup with Bacchus crown’d,
-In Jove’s high name, to sprinkle on the ground,
-And pay due vows to all the gods around.
-Then with a plenteous draught refresh thy soul,
-And draw new spirits from the generous bowl;
-Spent as thou art with long laborious fight,
-The brave defender of thy country’s right.”
-
-“Far hence be Bacchus’ gifts; (the chief rejoin’d;)
-Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind,
-Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind.
-Let chiefs abstain, and spare the sacred juice
-To sprinkle to the gods, its better use.
-By me that holy office were profaned;
-Ill fits it me, with human gore distain’d,
-To the pure skies these horrid hands to raise,
-Or offer heaven’s great Sire polluted praise.
-You, with your matrons, go! a spotless train,
-And burn rich odours in Minerva’s fane.
-The largest mantle your full wardrobes hold,
-Most prized for art, and labour’d o’er with gold,
-Before the goddess’ honour’d knees be spread,
-And twelve young heifers to her altar led.
-So may the power, atoned by fervent prayer,
-Our wives, our infants, and our city spare;
-And far avert Tydides’ wasteful ire,
-Who mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire.
-Be this, O mother, your religious care:
-I go to rouse soft Paris to the war;
-If yet not lost to all the sense of shame,
-The recreant warrior hear the voice of fame.
-Oh, would kind earth the hateful wretch embrace,
-That pest of Troy, that ruin of our race![174]
-Deep to the dark abyss might he descend,
-Troy yet should flourish, and my sorrows end.”
-
-This heard, she gave command: and summon’d came
-Each noble matron and illustrious dame.
-The Phrygian queen to her rich wardrobe went,
-Where treasured odours breathed a costly scent.
-There lay the vestures of no vulgar art,
-Sidonian maids embroider’d every part,
-Whom from soft Sidon youthful Paris bore,
-With Helen touching on the Tyrian shore.
-Here, as the queen revolved with careful eyes
-The various textures and the various dyes,
-She chose a veil that shone superior far,
-And glow’d refulgent as the morning star.
-Herself with this the long procession leads;
-The train majestically slow proceeds.
-Soon as to Ilion’s topmost tower they come,
-And awful reach the high Palladian dome,
-Antenor’s consort, fair Theano, waits
-As Pallas’ priestess, and unbars the gates.
-With hands uplifted and imploring eyes,
-They fill the dome with supplicating cries.
-The priestess then the shining veil displays,
-Placed on Minerva’s knees, and thus she prays:
-
-“Oh awful goddess! ever-dreadful maid,
-Troy’s strong defence, unconquer’d Pallas, aid!
-Break thou Tydides’ spear, and let him fall
-Prone on the dust before the Trojan wall!
-So twelve young heifers, guiltless of the yoke,
-Shall fill thy temple with a grateful smoke.
-But thou, atoned by penitence and prayer,
-Ourselves, our infants, and our city spare!”
-So pray’d the priestess in her holy fane;
-So vow’d the matrons, but they vow’d in vain.
-
-While these appear before the power with prayers,
-Hector to Paris’ lofty dome repairs.[175]
-Himself the mansion raised, from every part
-Assembling architects of matchless art.
-Near Priam’s court and Hector’s palace stands
-The pompous structure, and the town commands.
-A spear the hero bore of wondrous strength,
-Of full ten cubits was the lance’s length,
-The steely point with golden ringlets join’d,
-Before him brandish’d, at each motion shined
-Thus entering, in the glittering rooms he found
-His brother-chief, whose useless arms lay round,
-His eyes delighting with their splendid show,
-Brightening the shield, and polishing the bow.
-Beside him Helen with her virgins stands,
-Guides their rich labours, and instructs their hands.
-
-Him thus inactive, with an ardent look
-The prince beheld, and high-resenting spoke.
-“Thy hate to Troy, is this the time to show?
-(O wretch ill-fated, and thy country’s foe!)
-Paris and Greece against us both conspire,
-Thy close resentment, and their vengeful ire.
-For thee great Ilion’s guardian heroes fall,
-Till heaps of dead alone defend her wall,
-For thee the soldier bleeds, the matron mourns,
-And wasteful war in all its fury burns.
-Ungrateful man! deserves not this thy care,
-Our troops to hearten, and our toils to share?
-Rise, or behold the conquering flames ascend,
-And all the Phrygian glories at an end.”
-
-“Brother, ’tis just, (replied the beauteous youth,)
-Thy free remonstrance proves thy worth and truth:
-Yet charge my absence less, O generous chief!
-On hate to Troy, than conscious shame and grief:
-Here, hid from human eyes, thy brother sate,
-And mourn’d, in secret, his and Ilion’s fate.
-’Tis now enough; now glory spreads her charms,
-And beauteous Helen calls her chief to arms.
-Conquest to-day my happier sword may bless,
-’Tis man’s to fight, but heaven’s to give success.
-But while I arm, contain thy ardent mind;
-Or go, and Paris shall not lag behind.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HECTOR CHIDING PARIS
-
-
-He said, nor answer’d Priam’s warlike son;
-When Helen thus with lowly grace begun:
-
-“Oh, generous brother! (if the guilty dame
-That caused these woes deserve a sister’s name!)
-Would heaven, ere all these dreadful deeds were done,
-The day that show’d me to the golden sun
-Had seen my death! why did not whirlwinds bear
-The fatal infant to the fowls of air?
-Why sunk I not beneath the whelming tide,
-And midst the roarings of the waters died?
-Heaven fill’d up all my ills, and I accursed
-Bore all, and Paris of those ills the worst.
-Helen at least a braver spouse might claim,
-Warm’d with some virtue, some regard of fame!
-Now tired with toils, thy fainting limbs recline,
-With toils, sustain’d for Paris’ sake and mine
-The gods have link’d our miserable doom,
-Our present woe, and infamy to come:
-Wide shall it spread, and last through ages long,
-Example sad! and theme of future song.”
-
-The chief replied: “This time forbids to rest;
-The Trojan bands, by hostile fury press’d,
-Demand their Hector, and his arm require;
-The combat urges, and my soul’s on fire.
-Urge thou thy knight to march where glory calls,
-And timely join me, ere I leave the walls.
-Ere yet I mingle in the direful fray,
-My wife, my infant, claim a moment’s stay;
-This day (perhaps the last that sees me here)
-Demands a parting word, a tender tear:
-This day, some god who hates our Trojan land
-May vanquish Hector by a Grecian hand.”
-
-He said, and pass’d with sad presaging heart
-To seek his spouse, his soul’s far dearer part;
-At home he sought her, but he sought in vain;
-She, with one maid of all her menial train,
-Had hence retired; and with her second joy,
-The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy,
-Pensive she stood on Ilion’s towery height,
-Beheld the war, and sicken’d at the sight;
-There her sad eyes in vain her lord explore,
-Or weep the wounds her bleeding country bore.
-
-But he who found not whom his soul desired,
-Whose virtue charm’d him as her beauty fired,
-Stood in the gates, and ask’d “what way she bent
-Her parting step? If to the fane she went,
-Where late the mourning matrons made resort;
-Or sought her sisters in the Trojan court?”
-“Not to the court, (replied the attendant train,)
-Nor mix’d with matrons to Minerva’s fane:
-To Ilion’s steepy tower she bent her way,
-To mark the fortunes of the doubtful day.
-Troy fled, she heard, before the Grecian sword;
-She heard, and trembled for her absent lord:
-Distracted with surprise, she seem’d to fly,
-Fear on her cheek, and sorrow in her eye.
-The nurse attended with her infant boy,
-The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy.”
-
-Hector this heard, return’d without delay;
-Swift through the town he trod his former way,
-Through streets of palaces, and walks of state;
-And met the mourner at the Scæan gate.
-With haste to meet him sprung the joyful fair.
-His blameless wife, Aëtion’s wealthy heir
-(Cilician Thebe great Aëtion sway’d,
-And Hippoplacus’ wide extended shade):
-The nurse stood near, in whose embraces press’d,
-His only hope hung smiling at her breast,
-Whom each soft charm and early grace adorn,
-Fair as the new-born star that gilds the morn.
-To this loved infant Hector gave the name
-Scamandrius, from Scamander’s honour’d stream;
-Astyanax the Trojans call’d the boy,
-From his great father, the defence of Troy.
-Silent the warrior smiled, and pleased resign’d
-To tender passions all his mighty mind;
-His beauteous princess cast a mournful look,
-Hung on his hand, and then dejected spoke;
-Her bosom laboured with a boding sigh,
-And the big tear stood trembling in her eye.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE MEETING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE
-
-
-“Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run?
-Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son!
-And think’st thou not how wretched we shall be,
-A widow I, a helpless orphan he?
-For sure such courage length of life denies,
-And thou must fall, thy virtue’s sacrifice.
-Greece in her single heroes strove in vain;
-Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain.
-O grant me, gods, ere Hector meets his doom,
-All I can ask of heaven, an early tomb!
-So shall my days in one sad tenor run,
-And end with sorrows as they first begun.
-No parent now remains my griefs to share,
-No father’s aid, no mother’s tender care.
-The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire,
-Laid Thebe waste, and slew my warlike sire!
-His fate compassion in the victor bred;
-Stern as he was, he yet revered the dead,
-His radiant arms preserved from hostile spoil,
-And laid him decent on the funeral pile;
-Then raised a mountain where his bones were burn’d,
-The mountain-nymphs the rural tomb adorn’d,
-Jove’s sylvan daughters bade their elms bestow
-A barren shade, and in his honour grow.
-
-“By the same arm my seven brave brothers fell;
-In one sad day beheld the gates of hell;
-While the fat herds and snowy flocks they fed,
-Amid their fields the hapless heroes bled!
-My mother lived to wear the victor’s bands,
-The queen of Hippoplacia’s sylvan lands:
-Redeem’d too late, she scarce beheld again
-Her pleasing empire and her native plain,
-When ah! oppress’d by life-consuming woe,
-She fell a victim to Diana’s bow.
-
-“Yet while my Hector still survives, I see
-My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee:
-Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all
-Once more will perish, if my Hector fall,
-Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share:
-Oh, prove a husband’s and a father’s care!
-That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy,
-Where yon wild fig-trees join the wall of Troy;
-Thou, from this tower defend the important post;
-There Agamemnon points his dreadful host,
-That pass Tydides, Ajax, strive to gain,
-And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train.
-Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given,
-Or led by hopes, or dictated from heaven.
-Let others in the field their arms employ,
-But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy.”
-
-The chief replied: “That post shall be my care,
-Not that alone, but all the works of war.
-How would the sons of Troy, in arms renown’d,
-And Troy’s proud dames, whose garments sweep the ground
-Attaint the lustre of my former name,
-Should Hector basely quit the field of fame?
-My early youth was bred to martial pains,
-My soul impels me to the embattled plains!
-Let me be foremost to defend the throne,
-And guard my father’s glories, and my own.
-
-“Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates!
-(How my heart trembles while my tongue relates!)
-The day when thou, imperial Troy! must bend,
-And see thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
-And yet no dire presage so wounds my mind,
-My mother’s death, the ruin of my kind,
-Not Priam’s hoary hairs defiled with gore,
-Not all my brothers gasping on the shore;
-As thine, Andromache! Thy griefs I dread:
-I see thee trembling, weeping, captive led!
-In Argive looms our battles to design,
-And woes, of which so large a part was thine!
-To bear the victor’s hard commands, or bring
-The weight of waters from Hyperia’s spring.
-There while you groan beneath the load of life,
-They cry, ‘Behold the mighty Hector’s wife!’
-Some haughty Greek, who lives thy tears to see,
-Imbitters all thy woes, by naming me.
-The thoughts of glory past, and present shame,
-A thousand griefs shall waken at the name!
-May I lie cold before that dreadful day,
-Press’d with a load of monumental clay!
-Thy Hector, wrapt in everlasting sleep,
-Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep.”
-
-Thus having spoke, the illustrious chief of Troy
-Stretch’d his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy.
-The babe clung crying to his nurse’s breast,
-Scared at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest.
-With secret pleasure each fond parent smiled,
-And Hector hasted to relieve his child,
-The glittering terrors from his brows unbound,
-And placed the beaming helmet on the ground;
-Then kiss’d the child, and, lifting high in air,
-Thus to the gods preferr’d a father’s prayer:
-
-“O thou! whose glory fills the ethereal throne,
-And all ye deathless powers! protect my son!
-Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,
-To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,
-Against his country’s foes the war to wage,
-And rise the Hector of the future age!
-So when triumphant from successful toils
-Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils,
-Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim,
-And say, ‘This chief transcends his father’s fame:’
-While pleased amidst the general shouts of Troy,
-His mother’s conscious heart o’erflows with joy.”
-
-He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms,
-Restored the pleasing burden to her arms;
-Soft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid,
-Hush’d to repose, and with a smile survey’d.
-The troubled pleasure soon chastised by fear,
-She mingled with a smile a tender tear.
-The soften’d chief with kind compassion view’d,
-And dried the falling drops, and thus pursued:
-
-“Andromache! my soul’s far better part,
-Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart?
-No hostile hand can antedate my doom,
-Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb.
-Fix’d is the term to all the race of earth;
-And such the hard condition of our birth:
-No force can then resist, no flight can save,
-All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.
-No more—but hasten to thy tasks at home,
-There guide the spindle, and direct the loom:
-Me glory summons to the martial scene,
-The field of combat is the sphere for men.
-Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim,
-The first in danger as the first in fame.”
-
-Thus having said, the glorious chief resumes
-His towery helmet, black with shading plumes.
-His princess parts with a prophetic sigh,
-Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye
-That stream’d at every look; then, moving slow,
-Sought her own palace, and indulged her woe.
-There, while her tears deplored the godlike man,
-Through all her train the soft infection ran;
-The pious maids their mingled sorrows shed,
-And mourn the living Hector, as the dead.
-
-But now, no longer deaf to honour’s call,
-Forth issues Paris from the palace wall.
-In brazen arms that cast a gleamy ray,
-Swift through the town the warrior bends his way.
-The wanton courser thus with reins unbound[176]
-Breaks from his stall, and beats the trembling ground;
-Pamper’d and proud, he seeks the wonted tides,
-And laves, in height of blood his shining sides;
-His head now freed, he tosses to the skies;
-His mane dishevell’d o’er his shoulders flies;
-He snuffs the females in the distant plain,
-And springs, exulting, to his fields again.
-With equal triumph, sprightly, bold, and gay,
-In arms refulgent as the god of day,
-The son of Priam, glorying in his might,
-Rush’d forth with Hector to the fields of fight.
-
-And now, the warriors passing on the way,
-The graceful Paris first excused his stay.
-To whom the noble Hector thus replied:
-“O chief! in blood, and now in arms, allied!
-Thy power in war with justice none contest;
-Known is thy courage, and thy strength confess’d.
-What pity sloth should seize a soul so brave,
-Or godlike Paris live a woman’s slave!
-My heart weeps blood at what the Trojans say,
-And hopes thy deeds shall wipe the stain away.
-Haste then, in all their glorious labours share,
-For much they suffer, for thy sake, in war.
-These ills shall cease, whene’er by Jove’s decree
-We crown the bowl to heaven and liberty:
-While the proud foe his frustrate triumphs mourns,
-And Greece indignant through her seas returns.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] BOWS AND BOW CASE
-
-
-[Illustration: ] IRIS
-
-
-
-
-BOOK VII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT
-
-
-THE SINGLE COMBAT OF HECTOR AND AJAX.
-
-
-The battle renewing with double ardour upon the return of Hector,
-Minerva is under apprehensions for the Greeks. Apollo, seeing her
-descend from Olympus, joins her near the Scæan gate. They agree to put
-off the general engagement for that day, and incite Hector to challenge
-the Greeks to a single combat. Nine of the princes accepting the
-challenge, the lot is cast and falls upon Ajax. These heroes, after
-several attacks, are parted by the night. The Trojans calling a
-council, Antenor purposes the delivery of Helen to the Greeks, to which
-Paris will not consent, but offers to restore them her riches. Priam
-sends a herald to make this offer, and to demand a truce for burning
-the dead, the last of which only is agreed to by Agamemnon. When the
-funerals are performed, the Greeks, pursuant to the advice of Nestor,
-erect a fortification to protect their fleet and camp, flanked with
-towers, and defended by a ditch and palisades. Neptune testifies his
-jealousy at this work, but is pacified by a promise from Jupiter. Both
-armies pass the night in feasting but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans
-with thunder, and other signs of his wrath.
-    The three and twentieth day ends with the duel of Hector and Ajax,
-    the next day the truce is agreed; another is taken up in the
-    funeral rites of the slain and one more in building the
-    fortification before the ships. So that somewhat about three days
-    is employed in this book. The scene lies wholly in the field.
-
-
-So spoke the guardian of the Trojan state,
-Then rush’d impetuous through the Scæan gate.
-Him Paris follow’d to the dire alarms;
-Both breathing slaughter, both resolved in arms.
-As when to sailors labouring through the main,
-That long have heaved the weary oar in vain,
-Jove bids at length the expected gales arise;
-The gales blow grateful, and the vessel flies.
-So welcome these to Troy’s desiring train,
-The bands are cheer’d, the war awakes again.
-
-Bold Paris first the work of death begun
-On great Menestheus, Areithous’ son,
-Sprung from the fair Philomeda’s embrace,
-The pleasing Arnè was his native place.
-Then sunk Eioneus to the shades below,
-Beneath his steely casque[177] he felt the blow
-Full on his neck, from Hector’s weighty hand;
-And roll’d, with limbs relax’d, along the land.
-By Glaucus’ spear the bold Iphinous bleeds,
-Fix’d in the shoulder as he mounts his steeds;
-Headlong he tumbles: his slack nerves unbound,
-Drop the cold useless members on the ground.
-
-When now Minerva saw her Argives slain,
-From vast Olympus to the gleaming plain
-Fierce she descends: Apollo marked her flight,
-Nor shot less swift from Ilion’s towery height.
-Radiant they met, beneath the beechen shade;
-When thus Apollo to the blue-eyed maid:
-
-“What cause, O daughter of Almighty Jove!
-Thus wings thy progress from the realms above?
-Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy way,
-To give to Greece the long divided day?
-Too much has Troy already felt thy hate,
-Now breathe thy rage, and hush the stern debate;
-This day, the business of the field suspend;
-War soon shall kindle, and great Ilion bend;
-Since vengeful goddesses confederate join
-To raze her walls, though built by hands divine.”
-
-To whom the progeny of Jove replies:
-“I left, for this, the council of the skies:
-But who shall bid conflicting hosts forbear,
-What art shall calm the furious sons of war?”
-To her the god: “Great Hector’s soul incite
-To dare the boldest Greek to single fight,
-Till Greece, provoked, from all her numbers show
-A warrior worthy to be Hector’s foe.”
-
-At this agreed, the heavenly powers withdrew;
-Sage Helenus their secret counsels knew;
-Hector, inspired, he sought: to him address’d,
-Thus told the dictates of his sacred breast:
-“O son of Priam! let thy faithful ear
-Receive my words: thy friend and brother hear!
-Go forth persuasive, and a while engage
-The warring nations to suspend their rage;
-Then dare the boldest of the hostile train
-To mortal combat on the listed plain.
-For not this day shall end thy glorious date;
-The gods have spoke it, and their voice is fate.”
-
-He said: the warrior heard the word with joy;
-Then with his spear restrain’d the youth of Troy,
-Held by the midst athwart. On either hand
-The squadrons part; the expecting Trojans stand;
-Great Agamemnon bids the Greeks forbear:
-They breathe, and hush the tumult of the war.
-The Athenian maid,[178] and glorious god of day,
-With silent joy the settling hosts survey:
-In form of vultures, on the beech’s height
-They sit conceal’d, and wait the future fight.
-
-The thronging troops obscure the dusky fields,
-Horrid with bristling spears, and gleaming shields.
-As when a general darkness veils the main,
-(Soft Zephyr curling the wide wat’ry plain,)
-The waves scarce heave, the face of ocean sleeps,
-And a still horror saddens all the deeps;
-Thus in thick orders settling wide around,
-At length composed they sit, and shade the ground.
-Great Hector first amidst both armies broke
-The solemn silence, and their powers bespoke:
-
-“Hear, all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian bands,
-What my soul prompts, and what some god commands.
-Great Jove, averse our warfare to compose,
-O’erwhelms the nations with new toils and woes;
-War with a fiercer tide once more returns,
-Till Ilion falls, or till yon navy burns.
-You then, O princes of the Greeks! appear;
-’Tis Hector speaks, and calls the gods to hear:
-From all your troops select the boldest knight,
-And him, the boldest, Hector dares to fight.
-Here if I fall, by chance of battle slain,
-Be his my spoil, and his these arms remain;
-But let my body, to my friends return’d,
-By Trojan hands and Trojan flames be burn’d.
-And if Apollo, in whose aid I trust,
-Shall stretch your daring champion in the dust;
-If mine the glory to despoil the foe;
-On Phœbus’ temple I’ll his arms bestow:
-The breathless carcase to your navy sent,
-Greece on the shore shall raise a monument;
-Which when some future mariner surveys,
-Wash’d by broad Hellespont’s resounding seas,
-Thus shall he say, ‘A valiant Greek lies there,
-By Hector slain, the mighty man of war,’
-The stone shall tell your vanquish’d hero’s name
-And distant ages learn the victor’s fame.”
-
-This fierce defiance Greece astonish’d heard,
-Blush’d to refuse, and to accept it fear’d.
-Stern Menelaus first the silence broke,
-And, inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke:
-
-“Women of Greece! O scandal of your race,
-Whose coward souls your manly form disgrace,
-How great the shame, when every age shall know
-That not a Grecian met this noble foe!
-Go then! resolve to earth, from whence ye grew,
-A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew!
-Be what ye seem, unanimated clay,
-Myself will dare the danger of the day;
-’Tis man’s bold task the generous strife to try,
-But in the hands of God is victory.”
-
-These words scarce spoke, with generous ardour press’d,
-His manly limbs in azure arms he dress’d.
-That day, Atrides! a superior hand
-Had stretch’d thee breathless on the hostile strand;
-But all at once, thy fury to compose,
-The kings of Greece, an awful band, arose;
-Even he their chief, great Agamemnon, press’d
-Thy daring hand, and this advice address’d:
-“Whither, O Menelaus! wouldst thou run,
-And tempt a fate which prudence bids thee shun?
-Grieved though thou art, forbear the rash design;
-Great Hector’s arm is mightier far than thine:
-Even fierce Achilles learn’d its force to fear,
-And trembling met this dreadful son of war.
-Sit thou secure, amidst thy social band;
-Greece in our cause shall arm some powerful hand.
-The mightiest warrior of the Achaian name,
-Though bold and burning with desire of fame,
-Content the doubtful honour might forego,
-So great the danger, and so brave the foe.”
-
-He said, and turn’d his brother’s vengeful mind;
-He stoop’d to reason, and his rage resign’d,
-No longer bent to rush on certain harms;
-His joyful friends unbrace his azure arms.
-
-He from whose lips divine persuasion flows,
-Grave Nestor, then, in graceful act arose;
-Thus to the kings he spoke: “What grief, what shame
-Attend on Greece, and all the Grecian name!
-How shall, alas! her hoary heroes mourn
-Their sons degenerate, and their race a scorn!
-What tears shall down thy silvery beard be roll’d,
-O Peleus, old in arms, in wisdom old!
-Once with what joy the generous prince would hear
-Of every chief who fought this glorious war,
-Participate their fame, and pleased inquire
-Each name, each action, and each hero’s sire!
-Gods! should he see our warriors trembling stand,
-And trembling all before one hostile hand;
-How would he lift his aged arms on high,
-Lament inglorious Greece, and beg to die!
-Oh! would to all the immortal powers above,
-Minerva, Phœbus, and almighty Jove!
-Years might again roll back, my youth renew,
-And give this arm the spring which once it knew
-When fierce in war, where Jardan’s waters fall,
-I led my troops to Phea’s trembling wall,
-And with the Arcadian spears my prowess tried,
-Where Celadon rolls down his rapid tide.[179]
-There Ereuthalion braved us in the field,
-Proud Areithous’ dreadful arms to wield;
-Great Areithous, known from shore to shore
-By the huge, knotted, iron mace he bore;
-No lance he shook, nor bent the twanging bow,
-But broke, with this, the battle of the foe.
-Him not by manly force Lycurgus slew,
-Whose guileful javelin from the thicket flew,
-Deep in a winding way his breast assailed,
-Nor aught the warrior’s thundering mace avail’d.
-Supine he fell: those arms which Mars before
-Had given the vanquish’d, now the victor bore:
-But when old age had dimm’d Lycurgus’ eyes,
-To Ereuthalion he consign’d the prize.
-Furious with this he crush’d our levell’d bands,
-And dared the trial of the strongest hands;
-Nor could the strongest hands his fury stay:
-All saw, and fear’d, his huge tempestuous sway
-Till I, the youngest of the host, appear’d,
-And, youngest, met whom all our army fear’d.
-I fought the chief: my arms Minerva crown’d:
-Prone fell the giant o’er a length of ground.
-What then I was, O were your Nestor now!
-Not Hector’s self should want an equal foe.
-But, warriors, you that youthful vigour boast,
-The flower of Greece, the examples of our host,
-Sprung from such fathers, who such numbers sway,
-Can you stand trembling, and desert the day?”
-
-His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame;
-And nine, the noblest of the Grecian name,
-Up-started fierce: but far before the rest
-The king of men advanced his dauntless breast:
-Then bold Tydides, great in arms, appear’d;
-And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear’d;
-Oïleus follow’d; Idomen was there,[180]
-And Merion, dreadful as the god of war:
-With these Eurypylus and Thoas stand,
-And wise Ulysses closed the daring band.
-All these, alike inspired with noble rage,
-Demand the fight. To whom the Pylian sage:
-
-“Lest thirst of glory your brave souls divide,
-What chief shall combat, let the gods decide.
-Whom heaven shall choose, be his the chance to raise
-His country’s fame, his own immortal praise.”
-
-The lots produced, each hero signs his own:
-Then in the general’s helm the fates are thrown,[181]
-The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands,
-And vows like these ascend from all the bands:
-“Grant, thou Almighty! in whose hand is fate,
-A worthy champion for the Grecian state:
-This task let Ajax or Tydides prove,
-Or he, the king of kings, beloved by Jove.”
-Old Nestor shook the casque. By heaven inspired,
-Leap’d forth the lot, of every Greek desired.
-This from the right to left the herald bears,
-Held out in order to the Grecian peers;
-Each to his rival yields the mark unknown,
-Till godlike Ajax finds the lot his own;
-Surveys the inscription with rejoicing eyes,
-Then casts before him, and with transport cries:
-
-“Warriors! I claim the lot, and arm with joy;
-Be mine the conquest of this chief of Troy.
-Now while my brightest arms my limbs invest,
-To Saturn’s son be all your vows address’d:
-But pray in secret, lest the foes should hear,
-And deem your prayers the mean effect of fear.
-Said I in secret? No, your vows declare
-In such a voice as fills the earth and air,
-Lives there a chief whom Ajax ought to dread?
-Ajax, in all the toils of battle bred!
-From warlike Salamis I drew my birth,
-And, born to combats, fear no force on earth.”
-
-He said. The troops with elevated eyes,
-Implore the god whose thunder rends the skies:
-“O father of mankind, superior lord!
-On lofty Ida’s holy hill adored:
-Who in the highest heaven hast fix’d thy throne,
-Supreme of gods! unbounded and alone:
-Grant thou, that Telamon may bear away
-The praise and conquest of this doubtful day;
-Or, if illustrious Hector be thy care,
-That both may claim it, and that both may share.”
-
-Now Ajax braced his dazzling armour on;
-Sheathed in bright steel the giant-warrior shone:
-He moves to combat with majestic pace;
-So stalks in arms the grisly god of Thrace,[182]
-When Jove to punish faithless men prepares,
-And gives whole nations to the waste of wars,
-Thus march’d the chief, tremendous as a god;
-Grimly he smiled; earth trembled as he strode:[183]
-His massy javelin quivering in his hand,
-He stood, the bulwark of the Grecian band.
-Through every Argive heart new transport ran;
-All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man:
-Even Hector paused; and with new doubt oppress’d,
-Felt his great heart suspended in his breast:
-’Twas vain to seek retreat, and vain to fear;
-Himself had challenged, and the foe drew near.
-
-Stern Telamon behind his ample shield,
-As from a brazen tower, o’erlook’d the field.
-Huge was its orb, with seven thick folds o’ercast,
-Of tough bull-hides; of solid brass the last,
-(The work of Tychius, who in Hylè dwell’d
-And in all arts of armoury excell’d,)
-This Ajax bore before his manly breast,
-And, threatening, thus his adverse chief address’d:
-
-“Hector! approach my arm, and singly know
-What strength thou hast, and what the Grecian foe.
-Achilles shuns the fight; yet some there are,
-Not void of soul, and not unskill’d in war:
-Let him, unactive on the sea-beat shore,
-Indulge his wrath, and aid our arms no more;
-Whole troops of heroes Greece has yet to boast,
-And sends thee one, a sample of her host,
-Such as I am, I come to prove thy might;
-No more—be sudden, and begin the fight.”
-
-“O son of Telamon, thy country’s pride!
-(To Ajax thus the Trojan prince replied)
-Me, as a boy, or woman, wouldst thou fright,
-New to the field, and trembling at the fight?
-Thou meet’st a chief deserving of thy arms,
-To combat born, and bred amidst alarms:
-I know to shift my ground, remount the car,
-Turn, charge, and answer every call of war;
-To right, to left, the dexterous lance I wield,
-And bear thick battle on my sounding shield/
-But open be our fight, and bold each blow;
-I steal no conquest from a noble foe.”
-
-He said, and rising, high above the field
-Whirl’d the long lance against the sevenfold shield.
-Full on the brass descending from above
-Through six bull-hides the furious weapon drove,
-Till in the seventh it fix’d. Then Ajax threw;
-Through Hector’s shield the forceful javelin flew,
-His corslet enters, and his garment rends,
-And glancing downwards, near his flank descends.
-The wary Trojan shrinks, and bending low
-Beneath his buckler, disappoints the blow.
-From their bored shields the chiefs their javelins drew,
-Then close impetuous, and the charge renew;
-Fierce as the mountain-lions bathed in blood,
-Or foaming boars, the terror of the wood.
-At Ajax, Hector his long lance extends;
-The blunted point against the buckler bends;
-But Ajax, watchful as his foe drew near,
-Drove through the Trojan targe the knotty spear;
-It reach’d his neck, with matchless strength impell’d!
-Spouts the black gore, and dims his shining shield.
-Yet ceased not Hector thus; but stooping down,
-In his strong hand up-heaved a flinty stone,
-Black, craggy, vast: to this his force he bends;
-Full on the brazen boss the stone descends;
-The hollow brass resounded with the shock:
-Then Ajax seized the fragment of a rock,
-Applied each nerve, and swinging round on high,
-With force tempestuous, let the ruin fly;
-The huge stone thundering through his buckler broke:
-His slacken’d knees received the numbing stroke;
-Great Hector falls extended on the field,
-His bulk supporting on the shatter’d shield:
-Nor wanted heavenly aid: Apollo’s might
-Confirm’d his sinews, and restored to fight.
-And now both heroes their broad falchions drew
-In flaming circles round their heads they flew;
-But then by heralds’ voice the word was given.
-The sacred ministers of earth and heaven:
-Divine Talthybius, whom the Greeks employ,
-And sage Idæus on the part of Troy,
-Between the swords their peaceful sceptres rear’d;
-And first Idæus’ awful voice was heard:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HECTOR AND AJAX SEPARATED BY THE HERALDS
-
-
-“Forbear, my sons! your further force to prove,
-Both dear to men, and both beloved of Jove.
-To either host your matchless worth is known,
-Each sounds your praise, and war is all your own.
-But now the Night extends her awful shade;
-The goddess parts you; be the night obey’d.”[184]
-
-To whom great Ajax his high soul express’d:
-“O sage! to Hector be these words address’d.
-Let him, who first provoked our chiefs to fight,
-Let him demand the sanction of the night;
-If first he ask’d it, I content obey,
-And cease the strife when Hector shows the way.”
-
-“O first of Greeks! (his noble foe rejoin’d)
-Whom heaven adorns, superior to thy kind,
-With strength of body, and with worth of mind!
-Now martial law commands us to forbear;
-Hereafter we shall meet in glorious war,
-Some future day shall lengthen out the strife,
-And let the gods decide of death or life!
-Since, then, the night extends her gloomy shade,
-And heaven enjoins it, be the night obey’d.
-Return, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian friends,
-And joy the nations whom thy arm defends;
-As I shall glad each chief, and Trojan wife,
-Who wearies heaven with vows for Hector’s life.
-But let us, on this memorable day,
-Exchange some gift: that Greece and Troy may say,
-‘Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend;
-And each brave foe was in his soul a friend.’”
-
-With that, a sword with stars of silver graced,
-The baldric studded, and the sheath enchased,
-He gave the Greek. The generous Greek bestow’d
-A radiant belt that rich with purple glow’d.
-Then with majestic grace they quit the plain;
-This seeks the Grecian, that the Phrygian train.
-
-The Trojan bands returning Hector wait,
-And hail with joy the Champion of their state;
-Escaped great Ajax, they survey him round,
-Alive, unarm’d, and vigorous from his wound;
-To Troy’s high gates the godlike man they bear
-Their present triumph, as their late despair.
-
-But Ajax, glorying in his hardy deed,
-The well-arm’d Greeks to Agamemnon lead.
-A steer for sacrifice the king design’d,
-Of full five years, and of the nobler kind.
-The victim falls; they strip the smoking hide,
-The beast they quarter, and the joints divide;
-Then spread the tables, the repast prepare,
-Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.
-The king himself (an honorary sign)
-Before great Ajax placed the mighty chine.[185]
-When now the rage of hunger was removed,
-Nestor, in each persuasive art approved,
-The sage whose counsels long had sway’d the rest,
-In words like these his prudent thought express’d:
-
-“How dear, O kings! this fatal day has cost,
-What Greeks are perish’d! what a people lost!
-What tides of blood have drench’d Scamander’s shore!
-What crowds of heroes sunk to rise no more!
-Then hear me, chief! nor let the morrow’s light
-Awake thy squadrons to new toils of fight:
-Some space at least permit the war to breathe,
-While we to flames our slaughter’d friends bequeath,
-From the red field their scatter’d bodies bear,
-And nigh the fleet a funeral structure rear;
-So decent urns their snowy bones may keep,
-And pious children o’er their ashes weep.
-Here, where on one promiscuous pile they blazed,
-High o’er them all a general tomb be raised;
-Next, to secure our camp and naval powers,
-Raise an embattled wall, with lofty towers;
-From space to space be ample gates around,
-For passing chariots; and a trench profound.
-So Greece to combat shall in safety go,
-Nor fear the fierce incursions of the foe.”
-’Twas thus the sage his wholesome counsel moved;
-The sceptred kings of Greece his words approved.
-
-Meanwhile, convened at Priam’s palace-gate,
-The Trojan peers in nightly council sate;
-A senate void of order, as of choice:
-Their hearts were fearful, and confused their voice.
-Antenor, rising, thus demands their ear:
-“Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiliars, hear!
-’Tis heaven the counsel of my breast inspires,
-And I but move what every god requires:
-Let Sparta’s treasures be this hour restored,
-And Argive Helen own her ancient lord.
-The ties of faith, the sworn alliance, broke,
-Our impious battles the just gods provoke.
-As this advice ye practise, or reject,
-So hope success, or dread the dire effect.”
-
-The senior spoke and sate. To whom replied
-The graceful husband of the Spartan bride:
-“Cold counsels, Trojan, may become thy years
-But sound ungrateful in a warrior’s ears:
-Old man, if void of fallacy or art,
-Thy words express the purpose of thy heart,
-Thou, in thy time, more sound advice hast given;
-But wisdom has its date, assign’d by heaven.
-Then hear me, princes of the Trojan name!
-Their treasures I’ll restore, but not the dame;
-My treasures too, for peace, I will resign;
-But be this bright possession ever mine.”
-
-’Twas then, the growing discord to compose,
-Slow from his seat the reverend Priam rose:
-His godlike aspect deep attention drew:
-He paused, and these pacific words ensue:
-
-“Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiliar bands!
-Now take refreshment as the hour demands;
-Guard well the walls, relieve the watch of night.
-Till the new sun restores the cheerful light.
-Then shall our herald, to the Atrides sent,
-Before their ships proclaim my son’s intent.
-Next let a truce be ask’d, that Troy may burn
-Her slaughter’d heroes, and their bones inurn;
-That done, once more the fate of war be tried,
-And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide!”
-
-The monarch spoke: the warriors snatch’d with haste
-(Each at his post in arms) a short repast.
-Soon as the rosy morn had waked the day,
-To the black ships Idæus bent his way;
-There, to the sons of Mars, in council found,
-He raised his voice: the host stood listening round.
-
-“Ye sons of Atreus, and ye Greeks, give ear!
-The words of Troy, and Troy’s great monarch, hear.
-Pleased may ye hear (so heaven succeed my prayers)
-What Paris, author of the war, declares.
-The spoils and treasures he to Ilion bore
-(Oh had he perish’d ere they touch’d our shore!)
-He proffers injured Greece: with large increase
-Of added Trojan wealth to buy the peace.
-But to restore the beauteous bride again,
-This Greece demands, and Troy requests in vain.
-Next, O ye chiefs! we ask a truce to burn
-Our slaughter’d heroes, and their bones inurn.
-That done, once more the fate of war be tried,
-And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide!”
-
-The Greeks gave ear, but none the silence broke;
-At length Tydides rose, and rising spoke:
-“Oh, take not, friends! defrauded of your fame,
-Their proffer’d wealth, nor even the Spartan dame.
-Let conquest make them ours: fate shakes their wall,
-And Troy already totters to her fall.”
-
-The admiring chiefs, and all the Grecian name,
-With general shouts return’d him loud acclaim.
-Then thus the king of kings rejects the peace:
-“Herald! in him thou hear’st the voice of Greece
-For what remains; let funeral flames be fed
-With heroes’ corps: I war not with the dead:
-Go search your slaughtered chiefs on yonder plain,
-And gratify the manes of the slain.
-Be witness, Jove, whose thunder rolls on high!”
-He said, and rear’d his sceptre to the sky.
-
-To sacred Troy, where all her princes lay
-To wait the event, the herald bent his way.
-He came, and standing in the midst, explain’d
-The peace rejected, but the truce obtain’d.
-Straight to their several cares the Trojans move,
-Some search the plains, some fell the sounding grove:
-Nor less the Greeks, descending on the shore,
-Hew’d the green forests, and the bodies bore.
-And now from forth the chambers of the main,
-To shed his sacred light on earth again,
-Arose the golden chariot of the day,
-And tipp’d the mountains with a purple ray.
-In mingled throngs the Greek and Trojan train
-Through heaps of carnage search’d the mournful plain.
-Scarce could the friend his slaughter’d friend explore,
-With dust dishonour’d, and deformed with gore.
-The wounds they wash’d, their pious tears they shed,
-And, laid along their cars, deplored the dead.
-Sage Priam check’d their grief: with silent haste
-The bodies decent on the piles were placed:
-With melting hearts the cold remains they burn’d,
-And, sadly slow, to sacred Troy return’d.
-Nor less the Greeks their pious sorrows shed,
-And decent on the pile dispose the dead;
-The cold remains consume with equal care;
-And slowly, sadly, to their fleet repair.
-Now, ere the morn had streak’d with reddening light
-The doubtful confines of the day and night,
-About the dying flames the Greeks appear’d,
-And round the pile a general tomb they rear’d.
-Then, to secure the camp and naval powers,
-They raised embattled walls with lofty towers:[186]
-From space to space were ample gates around,
-For passing chariots, and a trench profound
-Of large extent; and deep in earth below,
-Strong piles infix’d stood adverse to the foe.
-
-So toil’d the Greeks: meanwhile the gods above,
-In shining circle round their father Jove,
-Amazed beheld the wondrous works of man:
-Then he, whose trident shakes the earth, began:
-
-“What mortals henceforth shall our power adore,
-Our fanes frequent, our oracles implore,
-If the proud Grecians thus successful boast
-Their rising bulwarks on the sea-beat coast?
-See the long walls extending to the main,
-No god consulted, and no victim slain!
-Their fame shall fill the world’s remotest ends,
-Wide as the morn her golden beam extends;
-While old Laomedon’s divine abodes,
-Those radiant structures raised by labouring gods,
-Shall, razed and lost, in long oblivion sleep.”
-Thus spoke the hoary monarch of the deep.
-
-The almighty Thunderer with a frown replies,
-That clouds the world, and blackens half the skies:
-“Strong god of ocean! thou, whose rage can make
-The solid earth’s eternal basis shake!
-What cause of fear from mortal works could move[187]
-The meanest subject of our realms above?
-Where’er the sun’s refulgent rays are cast,
-Thy power is honour’d, and thy fame shall last.
-But yon proud work no future age shall view,
-No trace remain where once the glory grew.
-The sapp’d foundations by thy force shall fall,
-And, whelm’d beneath the waves, drop the huge wall:
-Vast drifts of sand shall change the former shore:
-The ruin vanish’d, and the name no more.”
-
-Thus they in heaven: while, o’er the Grecian train,
-The rolling sun descending to the main
-Beheld the finish’d work. Their bulls they slew;
-Back from the tents the savoury vapour flew.
-And now the fleet, arrived from Lemnos’ strands,
-With Bacchus’ blessings cheered the generous bands.
-Of fragrant wines the rich Eunaeus sent
-A thousant measures to the royal tent.
-(Eunaeus, whom Hypsipyle of yore
-To Jason, shepherd of his people, bore,)
-The rest they purchased at their proper cost,
-And well the plenteous freight supplied the host:
-Each, in exchange, proportion’d treasures gave;[188]
-Some, brass or iron; some, an ox, or slave.
-All night they feast, the Greek and Trojan powers:
-Those on the fields, and these within their towers.
-But Jove averse the signs of wrath display’d,
-And shot red lightnings through the gloomy shade:
-Humbled they stood; pale horror seized on all,
-While the deep thunder shook the aerial hall.
-Each pour’d to Jove before the bowl was crown’d;
-And large libations drench’d the thirsty ground:
-Then late, refresh’d with sleep from toils of fight,
-Enjoy’d the balmy blessings of the night.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] GREEK AMPHORA—WINE VESSELS
-
-
-
-
-BOOK VIII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE SECOND BATTLE, AND THE DISTRESS OF THE GREEKS.
-
-
-Jupiter assembles a council of the deities, and threatens them with the
-pains of Tartarus if they assist either side: Minerva only obtains of
-him that she may direct the Greeks by her counsels. The armies join
-battle: Jupiter on Mount Ida weighs in his balances the fates of both,
-and affrights the Greeks with his thunders and lightnings. Nestor alone
-continues in the field in great danger: Diomed relieves him; whose
-exploits, and those of Hector, are excellently described. Juno
-endeavours to animate Neptune to the assistance of the Greeks, but in
-vain. The acts of Teucer, who is at length wounded by Hector, and
-carried off. Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians, but are
-restrained by Iris, sent from Jupiter. The night puts an end to the
-battle. Hector continues in the field, (the Greeks being driven to
-their fortifications before the ships,) and gives orders to keep the
-watch all night in the camp, to prevent the enemy from re-embarking and
-escaping by flight. They kindle fires through all the fields, and pass
-the night under arms.
-    The time of seven and twenty days is employed from the opening of
-    the poem to the end of this book. The scene here (except of the
-    celestial machines) lies in the field towards the seashore.
-
-
-Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn,
-Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn;
-When Jove convened the senate of the skies,
-Where high Olympus’ cloudy tops arise,
-The sire of gods his awful silence broke;
-The heavens attentive trembled as he spoke:[189]
-
-“Celestial states! immortal gods! give ear,
-Hear our decree, and reverence what ye hear;
-The fix’d decree which not all heaven can move;
-Thou, fate! fulfil it! and, ye powers, approve!
-What god but enters yon forbidden field,
-Who yields assistance, or but wills to yield,
-Back to the skies with shame he shall be driven,
-Gash’d with dishonest wounds, the scorn of heaven;
-Or far, oh far, from steep Olympus thrown,
-Low in the dark Tartarean gulf shall groan,
-With burning chains fix’d to the brazen floors,
-And lock’d by hell’s inexorable doors;
-As deep beneath the infernal centre hurl’d,[190]
-As from that centre to the ethereal world.
-Let him who tempts me, dread those dire abodes:
-And know, the Almighty is the god of gods.
-League all your forces, then, ye powers above,
-Join all, and try the omnipotence of Jove.
-Let down our golden everlasting chain[191]
-Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main
-Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth,
-To drag, by this, the Thunderer down to earth:
-Ye strive in vain! if I but stretch this hand,
-I heave the gods, the ocean, and the land;
-I fix the chain to great Olympus’ height,
-And the vast world hangs trembling in my sight!
-For such I reign, unbounded and above;
-And such are men, and gods, compared to Jove.”
-
-The all-mighty spoke, nor durst the powers reply:
-A reverend horror silenced all the sky;
-Trembling they stood before their sovereign’s look;
-At length his best-beloved, the power of wisdom, spoke:
-
-“O first and greatest! God, by gods adored
-We own thy might, our father and our lord!
-But, ah! permit to pity human state:
-If not to help, at least lament their fate.
-From fields forbidden we submiss refrain,
-With arms unaiding mourn our Argives slain;
-Yet grant my counsels still their breasts may move,
-Or all must perish in the wrath of Jove.”
-
-The cloud-compelling god her suit approved,
-And smiled superior on his best beloved;
-Then call’d his coursers, and his chariot took;
-The stedfast firmament beneath them shook:
-Rapt by the ethereal steeds the chariot roll’d;
-Brass were their hoofs, their curling manes of gold:
-Of heaven’s undrossy gold the gods array,
-Refulgent, flash’d intolerable day.
-High on the throne he shines: his coursers fly
-Between the extended earth and starry sky.
-But when to Ida’s topmost height he came,
-(Fair nurse of fountains, and of savage game,)
-Where o’er her pointed summits proudly raised,
-His fane breathed odours, and his altar blazed:
-There, from his radiant car, the sacred sire
-Of gods and men released the steeds of fire:
-Blue ambient mists the immortal steeds embraced;
-High on the cloudy point his seat he placed;
-Thence his broad eye the subject world surveys,
-The town, and tents, and navigable seas.
-
-Now had the Grecians snatch’d a short repast,
-And buckled on their shining arms with haste.
-Troy roused as soon; for on this dreadful day
-The fate of fathers, wives, and infants lay.
-The gates unfolding pour forth all their train;
-Squadrons on squadrons cloud the dusky plain:
-Men, steeds, and chariots shake the trembling ground,
-The tumult thickens, and the skies resound;
-And now with shouts the shocking armies closed,
-To lances lances, shields to shields opposed,
-Host against host with shadowy legends drew,
-The sounding darts in iron tempests flew;
-Victors and vanquish’d join promiscuous cries,
-Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise;
-With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed,
-And slaughter’d heroes swell the dreadful tide.
-Long as the morning beams, increasing bright,
-O’er heaven’s clear azure spread the sacred light,
-Commutual death the fate of war confounds,
-Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds.
-But when the sun the height of heaven ascends,
-The sire of gods his golden scales suspends,[192]
-With equal hand: in these explored the fate
-Of Greece and Troy, and poised the mighty weight:
-Press’d with its load, the Grecian balance lies
-Low sunk on earth, the Trojan strikes the skies.
-Then Jove from Ida’s top his horrors spreads;
-The clouds burst dreadful o’er the Grecian heads;
-Thick lightnings flash; the muttering thunder rolls;
-Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls.
-Before his wrath the trembling hosts retire;
-The gods in terrors, and the skies on fire.
-Nor great Idomeneus that sight could bear,
-Nor each stern Ajax, thunderbolts of war:
-Nor he, the king of war, the alarm sustain’d
-Nestor alone, amidst the storm remain’d.
-Unwilling he remain’d, for Paris’ dart
-Had pierced his courser in a mortal part;
-Fix’d in the forehead, where the springing mane
-Curl’d o’er the brow, it stung him to the brain;
-Mad with his anguish, he begins to rear,
-Paw with his hoofs aloft, and lash the air.
-Scarce had his falchion cut the reins, and freed
-The encumber’d chariot from the dying steed,
-When dreadful Hector, thundering through the war,
-Pour’d to the tumult on his whirling car.
-That day had stretch’d beneath his matchless hand
-The hoary monarch of the Pylian band,
-But Diomed beheld; from forth the crowd
-He rush’d, and on Ulysses call’d aloud:
-
-“Whither, oh whither does Ulysses run?
-Oh, flight unworthy great Laertes’ son!
-Mix’d with the vulgar shall thy fate be found,
-Pierced in the back, a vile, dishonest wound?
-Oh turn and save from Hector’s direful rage
-The glory of the Greeks, the Pylian sage.”
-His fruitless words are lost unheard in air,
-Ulysses seeks the ships, and shelters there.
-But bold Tydides to the rescue goes,
-A single warrior midst a host of foes;
-Before the coursers with a sudden spring
-He leap’d, and anxious thus bespoke the king:
-
-“Great perils, father! wait the unequal fight;
-These younger champions will oppress thy might.
-Thy veins no more with ancient vigour glow,
-Weak is thy servant, and thy coursers slow.
-Then haste, ascend my seat, and from the car
-Observe the steeds of Tros, renown’d in war.
-Practised alike to turn, to stop, to chase,
-To dare the fight, or urge the rapid race:
-These late obey’d Æneas’ guiding rein;
-Leave thou thy chariot to our faithful train;
-With these against yon Trojans will we go,
-Nor shall great Hector want an equal foe;
-Fierce as he is, even he may learn to fear
-The thirsty fury of my flying spear.”
-
-Thus said the chief; and Nestor, skill’d in war,
-Approves his counsel, and ascends the car:
-The steeds he left, their trusty servants hold;
-Eurymedon, and Sthenelus the bold:
-The reverend charioteer directs the course,
-And strains his aged arm to lash the horse.
-Hector they face; unknowing how to fear,
-Fierce he drove on; Tydides whirl’d his spear.
-The spear with erring haste mistook its way,
-But plunged in Eniopeus’ bosom lay.
-His opening hand in death forsakes the rein;
-The steeds fly back: he falls, and spurns the plain.
-Great Hector sorrows for his servant kill’d,
-Yet unrevenged permits to press the field;
-Till, to supply his place and rule the car,
-Rose Archeptolemus, the fierce in war.
-And now had death and horror cover’d all;[193]
-Like timorous flocks the Trojans in their wall
-Inclosed had bled: but Jove with awful sound
-Roll’d the big thunder o’er the vast profound:
-Full in Tydides’ face the lightning flew;
-The ground before him flamed with sulphur blue;
-The quivering steeds fell prostrate at the sight;
-And Nestor’s trembling hand confess’d his fright:
-He dropp’d the reins: and, shook with sacred dread,
-Thus, turning, warn’d the intrepid Diomed:
-
-“O chief! too daring in thy friend’s defence
-Retire advised, and urge the chariot hence.
-This day, averse, the sovereign of the skies
-Assists great Hector, and our palm denies.
-Some other sun may see the happier hour,
-When Greece shall conquer by his heavenly power.
-’Tis not in man his fix’d decree to move:
-The great will glory to submit to Jove.”
-
-“O reverend prince! (Tydides thus replies)
-Thy years are awful, and thy words are wise.
-But ah, what grief! should haughty Hector boast
-I fled inglorious to the guarded coast.
-Before that dire disgrace shall blast my fame,
-O’erwhelm me, earth; and hide a warrior’s shame!”
-To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied:[194]
-“Gods! can thy courage fear the Phrygian’s pride?
-Hector may vaunt, but who shall heed the boast?
-Not those who felt thy arm, the Dardan host,
-Nor Troy, yet bleeding in her heroes lost;
-Not even a Phrygian dame, who dreads the sword
-That laid in dust her loved, lamented lord.”
-He said, and, hasty, o’er the gasping throng
-Drives the swift steeds: the chariot smokes along;
-The shouts of Trojans thicken in the wind;
-The storm of hissing javelins pours behind.
-Then with a voice that shakes the solid skies,
-Pleased, Hector braves the warrior as he flies.
-“Go, mighty hero! graced above the rest
-In seats of council and the sumptuous feast:
-Now hope no more those honours from thy train;
-Go less than woman, in the form of man!
-To scale our walls, to wrap our towers in flames,
-To lead in exile the fair Phrygian dames,
-Thy once proud hopes, presumptuous prince! are fled;
-This arm shall reach thy heart, and stretch thee dead.”
-
-Now fears dissuade him, and now hopes invite.
-To stop his coursers, and to stand the fight;
-Thrice turn’d the chief, and thrice imperial Jove
-On Ida’s summits thunder’d from above.
-Great Hector heard; he saw the flashing light,
-(The sign of conquest,) and thus urged the fight:
-
-“Hear, every Trojan, Lycian, Dardan band,
-All famed in war, and dreadful hand to hand.
-Be mindful of the wreaths your arms have won,
-Your great forefathers’ glories, and your own.
-Heard ye the voice of Jove? Success and fame
-Await on Troy, on Greece eternal shame.
-In vain they skulk behind their boasted wall,
-Weak bulwarks; destined by this arm to fall.
-High o’er their slighted trench our steeds shall bound,
-And pass victorious o’er the levell’d mound.
-Soon as before yon hollow ships we stand,
-Fight each with flames, and toss the blazing brand;
-Till, their proud navy wrapt in smoke and fires,
-All Greece, encompass’d, in one blaze expires.”
-
-Furious he said; then bending o’er the yoke,
-Encouraged his proud steeds, while thus he spoke:
-
-“Now, Xanthus, Æthon, Lampus, urge the chase,
-And thou, Podargus! prove thy generous race;
-Be fleet, be fearless, this important day,
-And all your master’s well-spent care repay.
-For this, high-fed, in plenteous stalls ye stand,
-Served with pure wheat, and by a princess’ hand;
-For this my spouse, of great Aëtion’s line,
-So oft has steep’d the strengthening grain in wine.
-Now swift pursue, now thunder uncontroll’d:
-Give me to seize rich Nestor’s shield of gold;
-From Tydeus’ shoulders strip the costly load,
-Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god:
-These if we gain, then victory, ye powers!
-This night, this glorious night, the fleet is ours!”
-
-That heard, deep anguish stung Saturnia’s soul;
-She shook her throne, that shook the starry pole:
-And thus to Neptune: “Thou, whose force can make
-The stedfast earth from her foundations shake,
-Seest thou the Greeks by fates unjust oppress’d,
-Nor swells thy heart in that immortal breast?
-Yet Ægae, Helicè, thy power obey,[195]
-And gifts unceasing on thine altars lay.
-Would all the deities of Greece combine,
-In vain the gloomy Thunderer might repine:
-Sole should he sit, with scarce a god to friend,
-And see his Trojans to the shades descend:
-Such be the scene from his Idaean bower;
-Ungrateful prospect to the sullen power!”
-
-Neptune with wrath rejects the rash design:
-“What rage, what madness, furious queen! is thine?
-I war not with the highest. All above
-Submit and tremble at the hand of Jove.”
-
-Now godlike Hector, to whose matchless might
-Jove gave the glory of the destined fight,
-Squadrons on squadrons drives, and fills the fields
-With close-ranged chariots, and with thicken’d shields.
-Where the deep trench in length extended lay,
-Compacted troops stand wedged in firm array,
-A dreadful front! they shake the brands, and threat
-With long-destroying flames the hostile fleet.
-The king of men, by Juno’s self inspired,
-Toil’d through the tents, and all his army fired.
-Swift as he moved, he lifted in his hand
-His purple robe, bright ensign of command.
-High on the midmost bark the king appear’d:
-There, from Ulysses’ deck, his voice was heard:
-To Ajax and Achilles reach’d the sound,
-Whose distant ships the guarded navy bound.
-“O Argives! shame of human race! (he cried:
-The hollow vessels to his voice replied,)
-Where now are all your glorious boasts of yore,
-Your hasty triumphs on the Lemnian shore?
-Each fearless hero dares a hundred foes,
-While the feast lasts, and while the goblet flows;
-But who to meet one martial man is found,
-When the fight rages, and the flames surround?
-O mighty Jove! O sire of the distress’d!
-Was ever king like me, like me oppress’d?
-With power immense, with justice arm’d in vain;
-My glory ravish’d, and my people slain!
-To thee my vows were breathed from every shore;
-What altar smoked not with our victims’ gore?
-With fat of bulls I fed the constant flame,
-And ask’d destruction to the Trojan name.
-Now, gracious god! far humbler our demand;
-Give these at least to ’scape from Hector’s hand,
-And save the relics of the Grecian land!”
-
-Thus pray’d the king, and heaven’s great father heard
-His vows, in bitterness of soul preferr’d:
-The wrath appeased, by happy signs declares,
-And gives the people to their monarch’s prayers.
-His eagle, sacred bird of heaven! he sent,
-A fawn his talons truss’d, (divine portent!)
-High o’er the wondering hosts he soar’d above,
-Who paid their vows to Panomphaean Jove;
-Then let the prey before his altar fall;
-The Greeks beheld, and transport seized on all:
-Encouraged by the sign, the troops revive,
-And fierce on Troy with doubled fury drive.
-Tydides first, of all the Grecian force,
-O’er the broad ditch impell’d his foaming horse,
-Pierced the deep ranks, their strongest battle tore,
-And dyed his javelin red with Trojan gore.
-Young Agelaus (Phradmon was his sire)
-With flying coursers shunn’d his dreadful ire;
-Struck through the back, the Phrygian fell oppress’d;
-The dart drove on, and issued at his breast:
-Headlong he quits the car: his arms resound;
-His ponderous buckler thunders on the ground.
-Forth rush a tide of Greeks, the passage freed;
-The Atridae first, the Ajaces next succeed:
-Meriones, like Mars in arms renown’d,
-And godlike Idomen, now passed the mound;
-Evaemon’s son next issues to the foe,
-And last young Teucer with his bended bow.
-Secure behind the Telamonian shield
-The skilful archer wide survey’d the field,
-With every shaft some hostile victim slew,
-Then close beneath the sevenfold orb withdrew:
-The conscious infant so, when fear alarms,
-Retires for safety to the mother’s arms.
-Thus Ajax guards his brother in the field,
-Moves as he moves, and turns the shining shield.
-Who first by Teucer’s mortal arrows bled?
-Orsilochus; then fell Ormenus dead:
-The godlike Lycophon next press’d the plain,
-With Chromius, Daetor, Ophelestes slain:
-Bold Hamopaon breathless sunk to ground;
-The bloody pile great Melanippus crown’d.
-Heaps fell on heaps, sad trophies of his art,
-A Trojan ghost attending every dart.
-Great Agamemnon views with joyful eye
-The ranks grow thinner as his arrows fly:
-“O youth forever dear! (the monarch cried)
-Thus, always thus, thy early worth be tried;
-Thy brave example shall retrieve our host,
-Thy country’s saviour, and thy father’s boast!
-Sprung from an alien’s bed thy sire to grace,
-The vigorous offspring of a stolen embrace:
-Proud of his boy, he own’d the generous flame,
-And the brave son repays his cares with fame.
-Now hear a monarch’s vow: If heaven’s high powers
-Give me to raze Troy’s long-defended towers;
-Whatever treasures Greece for me design,
-The next rich honorary gift be thine:
-Some golden tripod, or distinguished car,
-With coursers dreadful in the ranks of war:
-Or some fair captive, whom thy eyes approve,
-Shall recompense the warrior’s toils with love.”
-
-To this the chief: “With praise the rest inspire,
-Nor urge a soul already fill’d with fire.
-What strength I have, be now in battle tried,
-Till every shaft in Phrygian blood be dyed.
-Since rallying from our wall we forced the foe,
-Still aim’d at Hector have I bent my bow:
-Eight forky arrows from this hand have fled,
-And eight bold heroes by their points lie dead:
-But sure some god denies me to destroy
-This fury of the field, this dog of Troy.”
-
-He said, and twang’d the string. The weapon flies
-At Hector’s breast, and sings along the skies:
-He miss’d the mark; but pierced Gorgythio’s heart,
-And drench’d in royal blood the thirsty dart.
-(Fair Castianira, nymph of form divine,
-This offspring added to king Priam’s line.)
-As full-blown poppies, overcharged with rain,[196]
-Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain;
-So sinks the youth: his beauteous head, depress’d
-Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast.
-Another shaft the raging archer drew,
-That other shaft with erring fury flew,
-(From Hector, Phœbus turn’d the flying wound,)
-Yet fell not dry or guiltless to the ground:
-Thy breast, brave Archeptolemus! it tore,
-And dipp’d its feathers in no vulgar gore.
-Headlong he falls: his sudden fall alarms
-The steeds, that startle at his sounding arms.
-Hector with grief his charioteer beheld
-All pale and breathless on the sanguine field:
-Then bids Cebriones direct the rein,
-Quits his bright car, and issues on the plain.
-Dreadful he shouts: from earth a stone he took,
-And rush’d on Teucer with the lifted rock.
-The youth already strain’d the forceful yew;
-The shaft already to his shoulder drew;
-The feather in his hand, just wing’d for flight,
-Touch’d where the neck and hollow chest unite;
-There, where the juncture knits the channel bone,
-The furious chief discharged the craggy stone:
-The bow-string burst beneath the ponderous blow,
-And his numb’d hand dismiss’d his useless bow.
-He fell: but Ajax his broad shield display’d,
-And screen’d his brother with the mighty shade;
-Till great Alaster, and Mecistheus, bore
-The batter’d archer groaning to the shore.
-
-Troy yet found grace before the Olympian sire,
-He arm’d their hands, and fill’d their breasts with fire.
-The Greeks repulsed, retreat behind their wall,
-Or in the trench on heaps confusedly fall.
-First of the foe, great Hector march’d along,
-With terror clothed, and more than mortal strong.
-As the bold hound, that gives the lion chase,
-With beating bosom, and with eager pace,
-Hangs on his haunch, or fastens on his heels,
-Guards as he turns, and circles as he wheels;
-Thus oft the Grecians turn’d, but still they flew;
-Thus following, Hector still the hindmost slew.
-When flying they had pass’d the trench profound,
-And many a chief lay gasping on the ground;
-Before the ships a desperate stand they made,
-And fired the troops, and called the gods to aid.
-Fierce on his rattling chariot Hector came:
-His eyes like Gorgon shot a sanguine flame
-That wither’d all their host: like Mars he stood:
-Dire as the monster, dreadful as the god!
-Their strong distress the wife of Jove survey’d;
-Then pensive thus, to war’s triumphant maid:
-
-“O daughter of that god, whose arm can wield
-The avenging bolt, and shake the sable shield!
-Now, in this moment of her last despair,
-Shall wretched Greece no more confess our care,
-Condemn’d to suffer the full force of fate,
-And drain the dregs of heaven’s relentless hate?
-Gods! shall one raging hand thus level all?
-What numbers fell! what numbers yet shall fall!
-What power divine shall Hector’s wrath assuage?
-Still swells the slaughter, and still grows the rage!”
-
-So spake the imperial regent of the skies;
-To whom the goddess with the azure eyes:
-
-“Long since had Hector stain’d these fields with gore,
-Stretch’d by some Argive on his native shore:
-But he above, the sire of heaven, withstands,
-Mocks our attempts, and slights our just demands;
-The stubborn god, inflexible and hard,
-Forgets my service and deserved reward:
-Saved I, for this, his favourite son distress’d,
-By stern Eurystheus with long labours press’d?
-He begg’d, with tears he begg’d, in deep dismay;
-I shot from heaven, and gave his arm the day.
-Oh had my wisdom known this dire event,
-When to grim Pluto’s gloomy gates he went;
-The triple dog had never felt his chain,
-Nor Styx been cross’d, nor hell explored in vain.
-Averse to me of all his heaven of gods,
-At Thetis’ suit the partial Thunderer nods;
-To grace her gloomy, fierce, resenting son,
-My hopes are frustrate, and my Greeks undone.
-Some future day, perhaps, he may be moved
-To call his blue-eyed maid his best beloved.
-Haste, launch thy chariot, through yon ranks to ride;
-Myself will arm, and thunder at thy side.
-Then, goddess! say, shall Hector glory then?
-(That terror of the Greeks, that man of men)
-When Juno’s self, and Pallas shall appear,
-All dreadful in the crimson walks of war!
-What mighty Trojan then, on yonder shore,
-Expiring, pale, and terrible no more,
-Shall feast the fowls, and glut the dogs with gore?”
-
-She ceased, and Juno rein’d the steeds with care:
-(Heaven’s awful empress, Saturn’s other heir:)
-Pallas, meanwhile, her various veil unbound,
-With flowers adorn’d, with art immortal crown’d;
-The radiant robe her sacred fingers wove
-Floats in rich waves, and spreads the court of Jove.
-Her father’s arms her mighty limbs invest,
-His cuirass blazes on her ample breast.
-The vigorous power the trembling car ascends:
-Shook by her arm, the massy javelin bends:
-Huge, ponderous, strong! that when her fury burns
-Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o’erturns.
-
-Saturnia lends the lash; the coursers fly;
-Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky.
-Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers,
-Heaven’s golden gates, kept by the winged Hours.
-Commission’d in alternate watch they stand,
-The sun’s bright portals and the skies command;
-Close, or unfold, the eternal gates of day
-Bar heaven with clouds, or roll those clouds away.
-The sounding hinges ring, the clouds divide.
-Prone down the steep of heaven their course they guide.
-But Jove, incensed, from Ida’s top survey’d,
-And thus enjoin’d the many-colour’d maid.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] JUNO AND MINERVA GOING TO ASSIST THE GREEKS
-
-
-“Thaumantia! mount the winds, and stop their car;
-Against the highest who shall wage the war?
-If furious yet they dare the vain debate,
-Thus have I spoke, and what I speak is fate:
-Their coursers crush’d beneath the wheels shall lie,
-Their car in fragments, scatter’d o’er the sky:
-My lightning these rebellious shall confound,
-And hurl them flaming, headlong, to the ground,
-Condemn’d for ten revolving years to weep
-The wounds impress’d by burning thunder deep.
-So shall Minerva learn to fear our ire,
-Nor dare to combat hers and nature’s sire.
-For Juno, headstrong and imperious still,
-She claims some title to transgress our will.”
-
-Swift as the wind, the various-colour’d maid
-From Ida’s top her golden wings display’d;
-To great Olympus’ shining gate she flies,
-There meets the chariot rushing down the skies,
-Restrains their progress from the bright abodes,
-And speaks the mandate of the sire of gods.
-
-“What frenzy goddesses! what rage can move
-Celestial minds to tempt the wrath of Jove?
-Desist, obedient to his high command:
-This is his word; and know his word shall stand:
-His lightning your rebellion shall confound,
-And hurl ye headlong, flaming, to the ground;
-Your horses crush’d beneath the wheels shall lie,
-Your car in fragments scatter’d o’er the sky;
-Yourselves condemn’d ten rolling years to weep
-The wounds impress’d by burning thunder deep.
-So shall Minerva learn to fear his ire,
-Nor dare to combat hers and nature’s sire.
-For Juno, headstrong and imperious still,
-She claims some title to transgress his will:
-But thee, what desperate insolence has driven
-To lift thy lance against the king of heaven?”
-
-Then, mounting on the pinions of the wind,
-She flew; and Juno thus her rage resign’d:
-
-“O daughter of that god, whose arm can wield
-The avenging bolt, and shake the saber shield!
-No more let beings of superior birth
-Contend with Jove for this low race of earth;
-Triumphant now, now miserably slain,
-They breathe or perish as the fates ordain:
-But Jove’s high counsels full effect shall find;
-And, ever constant, ever rule mankind.”
-
-She spoke, and backward turn’d her steeds of light,
-Adorn’d with manes of gold, and heavenly bright.
-The Hours unloosed them, panting as they stood,
-And heap’d their mangers with ambrosial food.
-There tied, they rest in high celestial stalls;
-The chariot propp’d against the crystal walls,
-The pensive goddesses, abash’d, controll’d,
-Mix with the gods, and fill their seats of gold.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE HOURS TAKING THE HORSES FROM JUNO’S CAR
-
-
-And now the Thunderer meditates his flight
-From Ida’s summits to the Olympian height.
-Swifter than thought, the wheels instinctive fly,
-Flame through the vast of air, and reach the sky.
-’Twas Neptune’s charge his coursers to unbrace,
-And fix the car on its immortal base;
-There stood the chariot, beaming forth its rays,
-Till with a snowy veil he screen’d the blaze.
-He, whose all-conscious eyes the world behold,
-The eternal Thunderer sat, enthroned in gold.
-High heaven the footstool of his feet he makes,
-And wide beneath him all Olympus shakes.
-Trembling afar the offending powers appear’d,
-Confused and silent, for his frown they fear’d.
-He saw their soul, and thus his word imparts:
-“Pallas and Juno! say, why heave your hearts?
-Soon was your battle o’er: proud Troy retired
-Before your face, and in your wrath expired.
-But know, whoe’er almighty power withstand!
-Unmatch’d our force, unconquer’d is our hand:
-Who shall the sovereign of the skies control?
-Not all the gods that crown the starry pole.
-Your hearts shall tremble, if our arms we take,
-And each immortal nerve with horror shake.
-For thus I speak, and what I speak shall stand;
-What power soe’er provokes our lifted hand,
-On this our hill no more shall hold his place;
-Cut off, and exiled from the ethereal race.”
-
-Juno and Pallas grieving hear the doom,
-But feast their souls on Ilion’s woes to come.
-Though secret anger swell’d Minerva’s breast,
-The prudent goddess yet her wrath repress’d;
-But Juno, impotent of rage, replies:
-“What hast thou said, O tyrant of the skies!
-Strength and omnipotence invest thy throne;
-’Tis thine to punish; ours to grieve alone.
-For Greece we grieve, abandon’d by her fate
-To drink the dregs of thy unmeasured hate.
-From fields forbidden we submiss refrain,
-With arms unaiding see our Argives slain;
-Yet grant our counsels still their breasts may move,
-Lest all should perish in the rage of Jove.”
-
-The goddess thus; and thus the god replies,
-Who swells the clouds, and blackens all the skies:
-
-“The morning sun, awaked by loud alarms,
-Shall see the almighty Thunderer in arms.
-What heaps of Argives then shall load the plain,
-Those radiant eyes shall view, and view in vain.
-Nor shall great Hector cease the rage of fight,
-The navy flaming, and thy Greeks in flight,
-Even till the day when certain fates ordain
-That stern Achilles (his Patroclus slain)
-Shall rise in vengeance, and lay waste the plain.
-For such is fate, nor canst thou turn its course
-With all thy rage, with all thy rebel force.
-Fly, if thy wilt, to earth’s remotest bound,
-Where on her utmost verge the seas resound;
-Where cursed Iapetus and Saturn dwell,
-Fast by the brink, within the streams of hell;
-No sun e’er gilds the gloomy horrors there;
-No cheerful gales refresh the lazy air:
-There arm once more the bold Titanian band;
-And arm in vain; for what I will, shall stand.”
-
-Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light,
-And drew behind the cloudy veil of night:
-The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decay’d;
-The Greeks rejoicing bless the friendly shade.
-
-The victors keep the field; and Hector calls
-A martial council near the navy walls;
-These to Scamander’s bank apart he led,
-Where thinly scatter’d lay the heaps of dead.
-The assembled chiefs, descending on the ground,
-Attend his order, and their prince surround.
-A massy spear he bore of mighty strength,
-Of full ten cubits was the lance’s length;
-The point was brass, refulgent to behold,
-Fix’d to the wood with circling rings of gold:
-The noble Hector on his lance reclined,
-And, bending forward, thus reveal’d his mind:
-
-“Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear!
-Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear!
-This day, we hoped, would wrap in conquering flame
-Greece with her ships, and crown our toils with fame.
-But darkness now, to save the cowards, falls,
-And guards them trembling in their wooden walls.
-Obey the night, and use her peaceful hours
-Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers.
-Straight from the town be sheep and oxen sought,
-And strengthening bread and generous wine be brought.
-Wide o’er the field, high blazing to the sky,
-Let numerous fires the absent sun supply,
-The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise,
-Till the bright morn her purple beam displays;
-Lest, in the silence and the shades of night,
-Greece on her sable ships attempt her flight.
-Not unmolested let the wretches gain
-Their lofty decks, or safely cleave the main;
-Some hostile wound let every dart bestow,
-Some lasting token of the Phrygian foe,
-Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses’ care.
-And warn their children from a Trojan war.
-Now through the circuit of our Ilion wall,
-Let sacred heralds sound the solemn call;
-To bid the sires with hoary honours crown’d,
-And beardless youths, our battlements surround.
-Firm be the guard, while distant lie our powers,
-And let the matrons hang with lights the towers;
-Lest, under covert of the midnight shade,
-The insidious foe the naked town invade.
-Suffice, to-night, these orders to obey;
-A nobler charge shall rouse the dawning day.
-The gods, I trust, shall give to Hector’s hand
-From these detested foes to free the land,
-Who plough’d, with fates averse, the watery way:
-For Trojan vultures a predestined prey.
-Our common safety must be now the care;
-But soon as morning paints the fields of air,
-Sheathed in bright arms let every troop engage,
-And the fired fleet behold the battle rage.
-Then, then shall Hector and Tydides prove
-Whose fates are heaviest in the scales of Jove.
-To-morrow’s light (O haste the glorious morn!)
-Shall see his bloody spoils in triumph borne,
-With this keen javelin shall his breast be gored,
-And prostrate heroes bleed around their lord.
-Certain as this, oh! might my days endure,
-From age inglorious, and black death secure;
-So might my life and glory know no bound,
-Like Pallas worshipp’d, like the sun renown’d!
-As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy,
-Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy.”
-
-The leader spoke. From all his host around
-Shouts of applause along the shores resound.
-Each from the yoke the smoking steeds untied,
-And fix’d their headstalls to his chariot-side.
-Fat sheep and oxen from the town are led,
-With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread,
-Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore:
-The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore.
-Ungrateful offering to the immortal powers![197]
-Whose wrath hung heavy o’er the Trojan towers:
-Nor Priam nor his sons obtain’d their grace;
-Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race.
-
-The troops exulting sat in order round,
-And beaming fires illumined all the ground.
-As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,[198]
-O’er heaven’s pure azure spreads her sacred light,
-When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
-And not a cloud o’ercasts the solemn scene,
-Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
-And stars unnumber’d gild the glowing pole,
-O’er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
-And tip with silver every mountain’s head:
-Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
-A flood of glory bursts from all the skies:
-The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight,
-Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
-So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
-And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays.
-The long reflections of the distant fires
-Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires.
-A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild,
-And shoot a shady lustre o’er the field.
-Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
-Whose umber’d arms, by fits, thick flashes send,
-Loud neigh the coursers o’er their heaps of corn,
-And ardent warriors wait the rising morn.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE SHIELD OF ACHILLES
-
-
-
-
-BOOK IX.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES.
-
-
-Agamemnon, after the last day’s defeat, proposes to the Greeks to quit
-the siege, and return to their country. Diomed opposes this, and Nestor
-seconds him, praising his wisdom and resolution. He orders the guard to
-be strengthened, and a council summoned to deliberate what measures are
-to be followed in this emergency. Agamemnon pursues this advice, and
-Nestor further prevails upon him to send ambassadors to Achilles, in
-order to move him to a reconciliation. Ulysses and Ajax are made choice
-of, who are accompanied by old Phœnix. They make, each of them, very
-moving and pressing speeches, but are rejected with roughness by
-Achilles, who notwithstanding retains Phœnix in his tent. The
-ambassadors return unsuccessfully to the camp, and the troops betake
-themselves to sleep.
-    This book, and the next following, take up the space of one night,
-    which is the twenty-seventh from the beginning of the poem. The
-    scene lies on the sea-shore, the station of the Grecian ships.
-
-
-Thus joyful Troy maintain’d the watch of night;
-While fear, pale comrade of inglorious flight,[199]
-And heaven-bred horror, on the Grecian part,
-Sat on each face, and sadden’d every heart.
-As from its cloudy dungeon issuing forth,
-A double tempest of the west and north
-Swells o’er the sea, from Thracia’s frozen shore,
-Heaps waves on waves, and bids the Ægean roar:
-This way and that the boiling deeps are toss’d:
-Such various passions urged the troubled host,
-Great Agamemnon grieved above the rest;
-Superior sorrows swell’d his royal breast;
-Himself his orders to the heralds bears,
-To bid to council all the Grecian peers,
-But bid in whispers: these surround their chief,
-In solemn sadness and majestic grief.
-The king amidst the mournful circle rose:
-Down his wan cheek a briny torrent flows.
-So silent fountains, from a rock’s tall head,
-In sable streams soft-trickling waters shed.
-With more than vulgar grief he stood oppress’d;
-Words, mix’d with sighs, thus bursting from his breast:
-
-“Ye sons of Greece! partake your leader’s care;
-Fellows in arms and princes of the war!
-Of partial Jove too justly we complain,
-And heavenly oracles believed in vain.
-A safe return was promised to our toils,
-With conquest honour’d and enrich’d with spoils:
-Now shameful flight alone can save the host;
-Our wealth, our people, and our glory lost.
-So Jove decrees, almighty lord of all!
-Jove, at whose nod whole empires rise or fall,
-Who shakes the feeble props of human trust,
-And towers and armies humbles to the dust.
-Haste then, for ever quit these fatal fields,
-Haste to the joys our native country yields;
-Spread all your canvas, all your oars employ,
-Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy.”
-
-He said: deep silence held the Grecian band;
-Silent, unmov’d in dire dismay they stand;
-A pensive scene! till Tydeus’ warlike son
-Roll’d on the king his eyes, and thus begun:
-“When kings advise us to renounce our fame,
-First let him speak who first has suffer’d shame.
-If I oppose thee, prince! thy wrath withhold,
-The laws of council bid my tongue be bold.
-Thou first, and thou alone, in fields of fight,
-Durst brand my courage, and defame my might:
-Nor from a friend the unkind reproach appear’d,
-The Greeks stood witness, all our army heard.
-The gods, O chief! from whom our honours spring,
-The gods have made thee but by halves a king:
-They gave thee sceptres, and a wide command;
-They gave dominion o’er the seas and land;
-The noblest power that might the world control
-They gave thee not—a brave and virtuous soul.
-Is this a general’s voice, that would suggest
-Fears like his own to every Grecian breast?
-Confiding in our want of worth, he stands;
-And if we fly, ’tis what our king commands.
-Go thou, inglorious! from the embattled plain;
-Ships thou hast store, and nearest to the main;
-A noble care the Grecians shall employ,
-To combat, conquer, and extirpate Troy.
-Here Greece shall stay; or, if all Greece retire,
-Myself shall stay, till Troy or I expire;
-Myself, and Sthenelus, will fight for fame;
-God bade us fight, and ’twas with God we came.”
-
-He ceased; the Greeks loud acclamations raise,
-And voice to voice resounds Tydides’ praise.
-Wise Nestor then his reverend figure rear’d;
-He spoke: the host in still attention heard:[200]
-
-“O truly great! in whom the gods have join’d
-Such strength of body with such force of mind:
-In conduct, as in courage, you excel,
-Still first to act what you advise so well.
-These wholesome counsels which thy wisdom moves,
-Applauding Greece with common voice approves.
-Kings thou canst blame; a bold but prudent youth:
-And blame even kings with praise, because with truth.
-And yet those years that since thy birth have run
-Would hardly style thee Nestor’s youngest son.
-Then let me add what yet remains behind,
-A thought unfinish’d in that generous mind;
-Age bids me speak! nor shall the advice I bring
-Distaste the people, or offend the king:
-
-“Cursed is the man, and void of law and right,
-Unworthy property, unworthy light,
-Unfit for public rule, or private care,
-That wretch, that monster, who delights in war;
-Whose lust is murder, and whose horrid joy,
-To tear his country, and his kind destroy!
-This night, refresh and fortify thy train;
-Between the trench and wall let guards remain:
-Be that the duty of the young and bold;
-But thou, O king, to council call the old;
-Great is thy sway, and weighty are thy cares;
-Thy high commands must spirit all our wars.
-With Thracian wines recruit thy honour’d guests,
-For happy counsels flow from sober feasts.
-Wise, weighty counsels aid a state distress’d,
-And such a monarch as can choose the best.
-See what a blaze from hostile tents aspires,
-How near our fleet approach the Trojan fires!
-Who can, unmoved, behold the dreadful light?
-What eye beholds them, and can close to-night?
-This dreadful interval determines all;
-To-morrow, Troy must flame, or Greece must fall.”
-
-Thus spoke the hoary sage: the rest obey;
-Swift through the gates the guards direct their way.
-His son was first to pass the lofty mound,
-The generous Thrasymed, in arms renown’d:
-Next him, Ascalaphus, Iälmen, stood,
-The double offspring of the warrior-god:
-Deipyrus, Aphareus, Merion join,
-And Lycomed of Creon’s noble line.
-Seven were the leaders of the nightly bands,
-And each bold chief a hundred spears commands.
-The fires they light, to short repasts they fall,
-Some line the trench, and others man the wall.
-
-The king of men, on public counsels bent,
-Convened the princes in his ample tent,
-Each seized a portion of the kingly feast,
-But stay’d his hand when thirst and hunger ceased.
-Then Nestor spoke, for wisdom long approved,
-And slowly rising, thus the council moved.
-
-“Monarch of nations! whose superior sway
-Assembled states, and lords of earth obey,
-The laws and sceptres to thy hand are given,
-And millions own the care of thee and Heaven.
-O king! the counsels of my age attend;
-With thee my cares begin, with thee must end.
-Thee, prince! it fits alike to speak and hear,
-Pronounce with judgment, with regard give ear,
-To see no wholesome motion be withstood,
-And ratify the best for public good.
-Nor, though a meaner give advice, repine,
-But follow it, and make the wisdom thine.
-Hear then a thought, not now conceived in haste,
-At once my present judgment and my past.
-When from Pelides’ tent you forced the maid,
-I first opposed, and faithful, durst dissuade;
-But bold of soul, when headlong fury fired,
-You wronged the man, by men and gods admired:
-Now seek some means his fatal wrath to end,
-With prayers to move him, or with gifts to bend.”
-
-To whom the king. “With justice hast thou shown
-A prince’s faults, and I with reason own.
-That happy man, whom Jove still honours most,
-Is more than armies, and himself a host.
-Bless’d in his love, this wondrous hero stands;
-Heaven fights his war, and humbles all our bands.
-Fain would my heart, which err’d through frantic rage,
-The wrathful chief and angry gods assuage.
-If gifts immense his mighty soul can bow,[201]
-Hear, all ye Greeks, and witness what I vow.
-Ten weighty talents of the purest gold,
-And twice ten vases of refulgent mould:
-Seven sacred tripods, whose unsullied frame
-Yet knows no office, nor has felt the flame;
-Twelve steeds unmatch’d in fleetness and in force,
-And still victorious in the dusty course;
-(Rich were the man whose ample stores exceed
-The prizes purchased by their winged speed;)
-Seven lovely captives of the Lesbian line,
-Skill’d in each art, unmatch’d in form divine,
-The same I chose for more than vulgar charms,
-When Lesbos sank beneath the hero’s arms:
-All these, to buy his friendship, shall be paid,
-And join’d with these the long-contested maid;
-With all her charms, Briseïs I resign,
-And solemn swear those charms were never mine;
-Untouch’d she stay’d, uninjured she removes,
-Pure from my arms, and guiltless of my loves,[202]
-These instant shall be his; and if the powers
-Give to our arms proud Ilion’s hostile towers,
-Then shall he store (when Greece the spoil divides)
-With gold and brass his loaded navy’s sides:
-Besides, full twenty nymphs of Trojan race
-With copious love shall crown his warm embrace,
-Such as himself will choose; who yield to none,
-Or yield to Helen’s heavenly charms alone.
-Yet hear me further: when our wars are o’er,
-If safe we land on Argos’ fruitful shore,
-There shall he live my son, our honours share,
-And with Orestes’ self divide my care.
-Yet more—three daughters in my court are bred,
-And each well worthy of a royal bed;
-Laodice and Iphigenia fair,[203]
-And bright Chrysothemis with golden hair;
-Her let him choose whom most his eyes approve,
-I ask no presents, no reward for love:
-Myself will give the dower; so vast a store
-As never father gave a child before.
-Seven ample cities shall confess his sway,
-Him Enope, and Pheræ him obey,
-Cardamyle with ample turrets crown’d,
-And sacred Pedasus for vines renown’d;
-Æpea fair, the pastures Hira yields,
-And rich Antheia with her flowery fields:[204]
-The whole extent to Pylos’ sandy plain,
-Along the verdant margin of the main.
-There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil;
-Bold are the men, and generous is the soil;
-There shall he reign, with power and justice crown’d,
-And rule the tributary realms around.
-All this I give, his vengeance to control,
-And sure all this may move his mighty soul.
-Pluto, the grisly god, who never spares,
-Who feels no mercy, and who hears no prayers,
-Lives dark and dreadful in deep hell’s abodes,
-And mortals hate him, as the worst of gods.
-Great though he be, it fits him to obey,
-Since more than his my years, and more my sway.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] PLUTO
-
-
-The monarch thus. The reverend Nestor then:
-“Great Agamemnon! glorious king of men!
-Such are thy offers as a prince may take,
-And such as fits a generous king to make.
-Let chosen delegates this hour be sent
-(Myself will name them) to Pelides’ tent.
-Let Phœnix lead, revered for hoary age,
-Great Ajax next, and Ithacus the sage.
-Yet more to sanctify the word you send,
-Let Hodius and Eurybates attend.
-Now pray to Jove to grant what Greece demands;
-Pray in deep silence,[205] and with purest hands.”[206]
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE EMBASSY TO ACHILLES
-
-
-He said; and all approved. The heralds bring
-The cleansing water from the living spring.
-The youth with wine the sacred goblets crown’d,
-And large libations drench’d the sands around.
-The rite perform’d, the chiefs their thirst allay,
-Then from the royal tent they take their way;
-Wise Nestor turns on each his careful eye,
-Forbids to offend, instructs them to apply;
-Much he advised them all, Ulysses most,
-To deprecate the chief, and save the host.
-Through the still night they march, and hear the roar
-Of murmuring billows on the sounding shore.
-To Neptune, ruler of the seas profound,
-Whose liquid arms the mighty globe surround,
-They pour forth vows, their embassy to bless,
-And calm the rage of stern Æacides.
-And now, arrived, where on the sandy bay
-The Myrmidonian tents and vessels lay;
-Amused at ease, the godlike man they found,
-Pleased with the solemn harp’s harmonious sound.
-(The well wrought harp from conquered Thebae came;
-Of polish’d silver was its costly frame.)
-With this he soothes his angry soul, and sings
-The immortal deeds of heroes and of kings.
-Patroclus only of the royal train,
-Placed in his tent, attends the lofty strain:
-Full opposite he sat, and listen’d long,
-In silence waiting till he ceased the song.
-Unseen the Grecian embassy proceeds
-To his high tent; the great Ulysses leads.
-Achilles starting, as the chiefs he spied,
-Leap’d from his seat, and laid the harp aside.
-With like surprise arose Menoetius’ son:
-Pelides grasp’d their hands, and thus begun:
-
-“Princes, all hail! whatever brought you here.
-Or strong necessity, or urgent fear;
-Welcome, though Greeks! for not as foes ye came;
-To me more dear than all that bear the name.”
-
-With that, the chiefs beneath his roof he led,
-And placed in seats with purple carpets spread.
-Then thus—“Patroclus, crown a larger bowl,
-Mix purer wine, and open every soul.
-Of all the warriors yonder host can send,
-Thy friend most honours these, and these thy friend.”
-
-He said: Patroclus o’er the blazing fire
-Heaps in a brazen vase three chines entire:
-The brazen vase Automedon sustains,
-Which flesh of porker, sheep, and goat contains.
-Achilles at the genial feast presides,
-The parts transfixes, and with skill divides.
-Meanwhile Patroclus sweats, the fire to raise;
-The tent is brighten’d with the rising blaze:
-Then, when the languid flames at length subside,
-He strows a bed of glowing embers wide,
-Above the coals the smoking fragments turns
-And sprinkles sacred salt from lifted urns;
-With bread the glittering canisters they load,
-Which round the board Menoetius’ son bestow’d;
-Himself, opposed to Ulysses full in sight,
-Each portion parts, and orders every rite.
-The first fat offering to the immortals due,
-Amidst the greedy flames Patroclus threw;
-Then each, indulging in the social feast,
-His thirst and hunger soberly repress’d.
-That done, to Phœnix Ajax gave the sign:
-Not unperceived; Ulysses crown’d with wine
-The foaming bowl, and instant thus began,
-His speech addressing to the godlike man.
-
-“Health to Achilles! happy are thy guests!
-Not those more honour’d whom Atrides feasts:
-Though generous plenty crown thy loaded boards,
-That, Agamemnon’s regal tent affords;
-But greater cares sit heavy on our souls,
-Nor eased by banquets or by flowing bowls.
-What scenes of slaughter in yon fields appear!
-The dead we mourn, and for the living fear;
-Greece on the brink of fate all doubtful stands,
-And owns no help but from thy saving hands:
-Troy and her aids for ready vengeance call;
-Their threatening tents already shade our wall:
-Hear how with shouts their conquest they proclaim,
-And point at every ship their vengeful flame!
-For them the father of the gods declares,
-Theirs are his omens, and his thunder theirs.
-See, full of Jove, avenging Hector rise!
-See! heaven and earth the raging chief defies;
-What fury in his breast, what lightning in his eyes!
-He waits but for the morn, to sink in flame
-The ships, the Greeks, and all the Grecian name.
-Heavens! how my country’s woes distract my mind,
-Lest Fate accomplish all his rage design’d!
-And must we, gods! our heads inglorious lay
-In Trojan dust, and this the fatal day?
-Return, Achilles: oh return, though late,
-To save thy Greeks, and stop the course of Fate;
-If in that heart or grief or courage lies,
-Rise to redeem; ah, yet to conquer, rise!
-The day may come, when, all our warriors slain,
-That heart shall melt, that courage rise in vain:
-Regard in time, O prince divinely brave!
-Those wholesome counsels which thy father gave.
-When Peleus in his aged arms embraced
-His parting son, these accents were his last:
-
-“‘My child! with strength, with glory, and success,
-Thy arms may Juno and Minerva bless!
-Trust that to Heaven: but thou, thy cares engage
-To calm thy passions, and subdue thy rage:
-From gentler manners let thy glory grow,
-And shun contention, the sure source of woe;
-That young and old may in thy praise combine,
-The virtues of humanity be thine—’
-This now-despised advice thy father gave;
-Ah! check thy anger; and be truly brave.
-If thou wilt yield to great Atrides’ prayers,
-Gifts worthy thee his royal hand prepares;
-If not—but hear me, while I number o’er
-The proffer’d presents, an exhaustless store.
-Ten weighty talents of the purest gold,
-And twice ten vases of refulgent mould;
-Seven sacred tripods, whose unsullied frame
-Yet knows no office, nor has felt the flame;
-Twelve steeds unmatched in fleetness and in force,
-And still victorious in the dusty course;
-(Rich were the man, whose ample stores exceed
-The prizes purchased by their winged speed;)
-Seven lovely captives of the Lesbian line,
-Skill’d in each art, unmatch’d in form divine,
-The same he chose for more than vulgar charms,
-When Lesbos sank beneath thy conquering arms.
-All these, to buy thy friendship shall be paid,
-And, join’d with these, the long-contested maid;
-With all her charms, Briseïs he’ll resign,
-And solemn swear those charms were only thine;
-Untouch’d she stay’d, uninjured she removes,
-Pure from his arms, and guiltless of his loves.
-These instant shall be thine; and if the powers
-Give to our arms proud Ilion’s hostile towers,
-Then shalt thou store (when Greece the spoil divides)
-With gold and brass thy loaded navy’s sides.
-Besides, full twenty nymphs of Trojan race
-With copious love shall crown thy warm embrace;
-Such as thyself shall chose; who yield to none,
-Or yield to Helen’s heavenly charms alone.
-Yet hear me further: when our wars are o’er,
-If safe we land on Argos’ fruitful shore,
-There shalt thou live his son, his honour share,
-And with Orestes’ self divide his care.
-Yet more—three daughters in his court are bred,
-And each well worthy of a royal bed:
-Laodice and Iphigenia fair,
-And bright Chrysothemis with golden hair:
-Her shalt thou wed whom most thy eyes approve;
-He asks no presents, no reward for love:
-Himself will give the dower; so vast a store
-As never father gave a child before.
-Seven ample cities shall confess thy sway,
-The Enope and Pheræ thee obey,
-Cardamyle with ample turrets crown’d,
-And sacred Pedasus, for vines renown’d:
-Æpea fair, the pastures Hira yields,
-And rich Antheia with her flowery fields;
-The whole extent to Pylos’ sandy plain,
-Along the verdant margin of the main.
-There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil;
-Bold are the men, and generous is the soil.
-There shalt thou reign, with power and justice crown’d,
-And rule the tributary realms around.
-Such are the proffers which this day we bring,
-Such the repentance of a suppliant king.
-But if all this, relentless, thou disdain,
-If honour and if interest plead in vain,
-Yet some redress to suppliant Greece afford,
-And be, amongst her guardian gods, adored.
-If no regard thy suffering country claim,
-Hear thy own glory, and the voice of fame:
-For now that chief, whose unresisted ire
-Made nations tremble, and whole hosts retire,
-Proud Hector, now, the unequal fight demands,
-And only triumphs to deserve thy hands.”
-
-Then thus the goddess-born: “Ulysses, hear
-A faithful speech, that knows nor art nor fear;
-What in my secret soul is understood,
-My tongue shall utter, and my deeds make good.
-Let Greece then know, my purpose I retain:
-Nor with new treaties vex my peace in vain.
-Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
-My heart detests him as the gates of hell.
-
-“Then thus in short my fix’d resolves attend,
-Which nor Atrides nor his Greeks can bend;
-Long toils, long perils in their cause I bore,
-But now the unfruitful glories charm no more.
-Fight or not fight, a like reward we claim,
-The wretch and hero find their prize the same.
-Alike regretted in the dust he lies,
-Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies.
-Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains,
-A life of labours, lo! what fruit remains?
-As the bold bird her helpless young attends,
-From danger guards them, and from want defends;
-In search of prey she wings the spacious air,
-And with the untasted food supplies her care:
-For thankless Greece such hardships have I braved,
-Her wives, her infants, by my labours saved;
-Long sleepless nights in heavy arms I stood,
-And sweat laborious days in dust and blood.
-I sack’d twelve ample cities on the main,[207]
-And twelve lay smoking on the Trojan plain:
-Then at Atrides’ haughty feet were laid
-The wealth I gathered, and the spoils I made.
-Your mighty monarch these in peace possess’d;
-Some few my soldiers had, himself the rest.
-Some present, too, to every prince was paid;
-And every prince enjoys the gift he made:
-I only must refund, of all his train;
-See what pre-eminence our merits gain!
-My spoil alone his greedy soul delights:
-My spouse alone must bless his lustful nights:
-The woman, let him (as he may) enjoy;
-But what’s the quarrel, then, of Greece to Troy?
-What to these shores the assembled nations draws,
-What calls for vengeance but a woman’s cause?
-Are fair endowments and a beauteous face
-Beloved by none but those of Atreus’ race?
-The wife whom choice and passion doth approve,
-Sure every wise and worthy man will love.
-Nor did my fair one less distinction claim;
-Slave as she was, my soul adored the dame.
-Wrong’d in my love, all proffers I disdain;
-Deceived for once, I trust not kings again.
-Ye have my answer—what remains to do,
-Your king, Ulysses, may consult with you.
-What needs he the defence this arm can make?
-Has he not walls no human force can shake?
-Has he not fenced his guarded navy round
-With piles, with ramparts, and a trench profound?
-And will not these (the wonders he has done)
-Repel the rage of Priam’s single son?
-There was a time (’twas when for Greece I fought)
-When Hector’s prowess no such wonders wrought;
-He kept the verge of Troy, nor dared to wait
-Achilles’ fury at the Scæan gate;
-He tried it once, and scarce was saved by fate.
-But now those ancient enmities are o’er;
-To-morrow we the favouring gods implore;
-Then shall you see our parting vessels crown’d,
-And hear with oars the Hellespont resound.
-The third day hence shall Pythia greet our sails,[208]
-If mighty Neptune send propitious gales;
-Pythia to her Achilles shall restore
-The wealth he left for this detested shore:
-Thither the spoils of this long war shall pass,
-The ruddy gold, the steel, and shining brass:
-My beauteous captives thither I’ll convey,
-And all that rests of my unravish’d prey.
-One only valued gift your tyrant gave,
-And that resumed—the fair Lyrnessian slave.
-Then tell him: loud, that all the Greeks may hear,
-And learn to scorn the wretch they basely fear;
-(For arm’d in impudence, mankind he braves,
-And meditates new cheats on all his slaves;
-Though shameless as he is, to face these eyes
-Is what he dares not: if he dares he dies;)
-Tell him, all terms, all commerce I decline,
-Nor share his council, nor his battle join;
-For once deceiv’d, was his; but twice were mine,
-No—let the stupid prince, whom Jove deprives
-Of sense and justice, run where frenzy drives;
-His gifts are hateful: kings of such a kind
-Stand but as slaves before a noble mind,
-Not though he proffer’d all himself possess’d,
-And all his rapine could from others wrest:
-Not all the golden tides of wealth that crown
-The many-peopled Orchomenian town;[209]
-Not all proud Thebes’ unrivall’d walls contain,
-The world’s great empress on the Egyptian plain
-(That spreads her conquests o’er a thousand states,
-And pours her heroes through a hundred gates,
-Two hundred horsemen and two hundred cars
-From each wide portal issuing to the wars);[210]
-Though bribes were heap’d on bribes, in number more
-Than dust in fields, or sands along the shore;
-Should all these offers for my friendship call,
-’Tis he that offers, and I scorn them all.
-Atrides’ daughter never shall be led
-(An ill-match’d consort) to Achilles’ bed;
-Like golden Venus though she charm’d the heart,
-And vied with Pallas in the works of art;
-Some greater Greek let those high nuptials grace,
-I hate alliance with a tyrant’s race.
-If heaven restore me to my realms with life,
-The reverend Peleus shall elect my wife;
-Thessalian nymphs there are of form divine,
-And kings that sue to mix their blood with mine.
-Bless’d in kind love, my years shall glide away,
-Content with just hereditary sway;
-There, deaf for ever to the martial strife,
-Enjoy the dear prerogative of life.
-Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold.
-Not all Apollo’s Pythian treasures hold,
-Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway,
-Can bribe the poor possession of a day!
-Lost herds and treasures we by arms regain,
-And steeds unrivall’d on the dusty plain:
-But from our lips the vital spirit fled,
-Returns no more to wake the silent dead.
-My fates long since by Thetis were disclosed,
-And each alternate, life or fame, proposed;
-Here, if I stay, before the Trojan town,
-Short is my date, but deathless my renown:
-If I return, I quit immortal praise
-For years on years, and long-extended days.
-Convinced, though late, I find my fond mistake,
-And warn the Greeks the wiser choice to make;
-To quit these shores, their native seats enjoy,
-Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy.
-Jove’s arm display’d asserts her from the skies!
-Her hearts are strengthen’d, and her glories rise.
-Go then to Greece, report our fix’d design;
-Bid all your counsels, all your armies join,
-Let all your forces, all your arts conspire,
-To save the ships, the troops, the chiefs, from fire.
-One stratagem has fail’d, and others will:
-Ye find, Achilles is unconquer’d still.
-Go then—digest my message as ye may—
-But here this night let reverend Phœnix stay:
-His tedious toils and hoary hairs demand
-A peaceful death in Pythia’s friendly land.
-But whether he remain or sail with me,
-His age be sacred, and his will be free.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] GREEK GALLEY
-
-
-The son of Peleus ceased: the chiefs around
-In silence wrapt, in consternation drown’d,
-Attend the stern reply. Then Phœnix rose;
-(Down his white beard a stream of sorrow flows;)
-And while the fate of suffering Greece he mourn’d,
-With accent weak these tender words return’d.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] PROSERPINE
-
-
-“Divine Achilles! wilt thou then retire,
-And leave our hosts in blood, our fleets on fire?
-If wrath so dreadful fill thy ruthless mind,
-How shall thy friend, thy Phœnix, stay behind?
-The royal Peleus, when from Pythia’s coast
-He sent thee early to the Achaian host;
-Thy youth as then in sage debates unskill’d,
-And new to perils of the direful field:
-He bade me teach thee all the ways of war,
-To shine in councils, and in camps to dare.
-Never, ah, never let me leave thy side!
-No time shall part us, and no fate divide,
-Not though the god, that breathed my life, restore
-The bloom I boasted, and the port I bore,
-When Greece of old beheld my youthful flames
-(Delightful Greece, the land of lovely dames),
-My father faithless to my mother’s arms,
-Old as he was, adored a stranger’s charms.
-I tried what youth could do (at her desire)
-To win the damsel, and prevent my sire.
-My sire with curses loads my hated head,
-And cries, ‘Ye furies! barren be his bed.’
-Infernal Jove, the vengeful fiends below,
-And ruthless Proserpine, confirm’d his vow.
-Despair and grief distract my labouring mind!
-Gods! what a crime my impious heart design’d!
-I thought (but some kind god that thought suppress’d)
-To plunge the poniard in my father’s breast;
-Then meditate my flight: my friends in vain
-With prayers entreat me, and with force detain.
-On fat of rams, black bulls, and brawny swine,
-They daily feast, with draughts of fragrant wine;
-Strong guards they placed, and watch’d nine nights entire;
-The roofs and porches flamed with constant fire.
-The tenth, I forced the gates, unseen of all:
-And, favour’d by the night, o’erleap’d the wall,
-My travels thence through spacious Greece extend;
-In Phthia’s court at last my labours end.
-Your sire received me, as his son caress’d,
-With gifts enrich’d, and with possessions bless’d.
-The strong Dolopians thenceforth own’d my reign,
-And all the coast that runs along the main.
-By love to thee his bounties I repaid,
-And early wisdom to thy soul convey’d:
-Great as thou art, my lessons made thee brave:
-A child I took thee, but a hero gave.
-Thy infant breast a like affection show’d;
-Still in my arms (an ever-pleasing load)
-Or at my knee, by Phœnix wouldst thou stand;
-No food was grateful but from Phœnix’ hand.[211]
-I pass my watchings o’er thy helpless years,
-The tender labours, the compliant cares,
-The gods (I thought) reversed their hard decree,
-And Phœnix felt a father’s joys in thee:
-Thy growing virtues justified my cares,
-And promised comfort to my silver hairs.
-Now be thy rage, thy fatal rage, resign’d;
-A cruel heart ill suits a manly mind:
-The gods (the only great, and only wise)
-Are moved by offerings, vows, and sacrifice;
-Offending man their high compassion wins,
-And daily prayers atone for daily sins.
-Prayers are Jove’s daughters, of celestial race,
-Lame are their feet, and wrinkled is their face;
-With humble mien, and with dejected eyes,
-Constant they follow, where injustice flies.
-Injustice swift, erect, and unconfined,
-Sweeps the wide earth, and tramples o’er mankind,
-While Prayers, to heal her wrongs, move slow behind.
-Who hears these daughters of almighty Jove,
-For him they mediate to the throne above:
-When man rejects the humble suit they make,
-The sire revenges for the daughters’ sake;
-From Jove commission’d, fierce injustice then
-Descends to punish unrelenting men.
-O let not headlong passion bear the sway
-These reconciling goddesses obey:
-Due honours to the seed of Jove belong,
-Due honours calm the fierce, and bend the strong.
-Were these not paid thee by the terms we bring,
-Were rage still harbour’d in the haughty king;
-Nor Greece nor all her fortunes should engage
-Thy friend to plead against so just a rage.
-But since what honour asks the general sends,
-And sends by those whom most thy heart commends;
-The best and noblest of the Grecian train;
-Permit not these to sue, and sue in vain!
-Let me (my son) an ancient fact unfold,
-A great example drawn from times of old;
-Hear what our fathers were, and what their praise,
-Who conquer’d their revenge in former days.
-
-“Where Calydon on rocky mountains stands[212]
-Once fought the Ætolian and Curetian bands;
-To guard it those; to conquer, these advance;
-And mutual deaths were dealt with mutual chance.
-The silver Cynthia bade contention rise,
-In vengeance of neglected sacrifice;
-On Œneus fields she sent a monstrous boar,
-That levell’d harvests, and whole forests tore:
-This beast (when many a chief his tusks had slain)
-Great Meleager stretch’d along the plain,
-Then, for his spoils, a new debate arose,
-The neighbour nations thence commencing foes.
-Strong as they were, the bold Curetes fail’d,
-While Meleager’s thundering arm prevail’d:
-Till rage at length inflamed his lofty breast
-(For rage invades the wisest and the best).
-
-“Cursed by Althaea, to his wrath he yields,
-And in his wife’s embrace forgets the fields.
-(She from Marpessa sprung, divinely fair,
-And matchless Idas, more than man in war:
-The god of day adored the mother’s charms;
-Against the god the father bent his arms:
-The afflicted pair, their sorrows to proclaim,
-From Cleopatra changed their daughter’s name,
-And call’d Alcyone; a name to show
-The father’s grief, the mourning mother’s woe.)
-To her the chief retired from stern debate,
-But found no peace from fierce Althaea’s hate:
-Althaea’s hate the unhappy warrior drew,
-Whose luckless hand his royal uncle slew;
-She beat the ground, and call’d the powers beneath
-On her own son to wreak her brother’s death;
-Hell heard her curses from the realms profound,
-And the red fiends that walk the nightly round.
-In vain Ætolia her deliverer waits,
-War shakes her walls, and thunders at her gates.
-She sent ambassadors, a chosen band,
-Priests of the gods, and elders of the land;
-Besought the chief to save the sinking state:
-Their prayers were urgent, and their proffers great:
-(Full fifty acres of the richest ground,
-Half pasture green, and half with vineyards crown’d:)
-His suppliant father, aged Œneus, came;
-His sisters follow’d; even the vengeful dame,
-Althaea, sues; his friends before him fall:
-He stands relentless, and rejects them all.
-Meanwhile the victor’s shouts ascend the skies;
-The walls are scaled; the rolling flames arise;
-At length his wife (a form divine) appears,
-With piercing cries, and supplicating tears;
-She paints the horrors of a conquer’d town,
-The heroes slain, the palaces o’erthrown,
-The matrons ravish’d, the whole race enslaved:
-The warrior heard, he vanquish’d, and he saved.
-The Ætolians, long disdain’d, now took their turn,
-And left the chief their broken faith to mourn.
-Learn hence, betimes to curb pernicious ire,
-Nor stay till yonder fleets ascend in fire;
-Accept the presents; draw thy conquering sword;
-And be amongst our guardian gods adored.”
-
-Thus he: the stern Achilles thus replied:
-“My second father, and my reverend guide:
-Thy friend, believe me, no such gifts demands,
-And asks no honours from a mortal’s hands;
-Jove honours me, and favours my designs;
-His pleasure guides me, and his will confines;
-And here I stay (if such his high behest)
-While life’s warm spirit beats within my breast.
-Yet hear one word, and lodge it in thy heart:
-No more molest me on Atrides’ part:
-Is it for him these tears are taught to flow,
-For him these sorrows? for my mortal foe?
-A generous friendship no cold medium knows,
-Burns with one love, with one resentment glows;
-One should our interests and our passions be;
-My friend must hate the man that injures me.
-Do this, my Phœnix, ’tis a generous part;
-And share my realms, my honours, and my heart.
-Let these return: our voyage, or our stay,
-Rest undetermined till the dawning day.”
-
-He ceased; then order’d for the sage’s bed
-A warmer couch with numerous carpets spread.
-With that, stern Ajax his long silence broke,
-And thus, impatient, to Ulysses spoke:
-
-“Hence let us go—why waste we time in vain?
-See what effect our low submissions gain!
-Liked or not liked, his words we must relate,
-The Greeks expect them, and our heroes wait.
-Proud as he is, that iron heart retains
-Its stubborn purpose, and his friends disdains.
-Stern and unpitying! if a brother bleed,
-On just atonement, we remit the deed;
-A sire the slaughter of his son forgives;
-The price of blood discharged, the murderer lives:
-The haughtiest hearts at length their rage resign,
-And gifts can conquer every soul but thine.[213]
-The gods that unrelenting breast have steel’d,
-And cursed thee with a mind that cannot yield.
-One woman-slave was ravish’d from thy arms:
-Lo, seven are offer’d, and of equal charms.
-Then hear, Achilles! be of better mind;
-Revere thy roof, and to thy guests be kind;
-And know the men of all the Grecian host,
-Who honour worth, and prize thy valour most.”
-
-“O soul of battles, and thy people’s guide!
-(To Ajax thus the first of Greeks replied)
-Well hast thou spoke; but at the tyrant’s name
-My rage rekindles, and my soul’s on flame:
-’Tis just resentment, and becomes the brave:
-Disgraced, dishonour’d, like the vilest slave!
-Return, then, heroes! and our answer bear,
-The glorious combat is no more my care;
-Not till, amidst yon sinking navy slain,
-The blood of Greeks shall dye the sable main;
-Not till the flames, by Hector’s fury thrown,
-Consume your vessels, and approach my own;
-Just there, the impetuous homicide shall stand,
-There cease his battle, and there feel our hand.”
-
-This said, each prince a double goblet crown’d,
-And cast a large libation on the ground;
-Then to their vessels, through the gloomy shades,
-The chiefs return; divine Ulysses leads.
-Meantime Achilles’ slaves prepared a bed,
-With fleeces, carpets, and soft linen spread:
-There, till the sacred morn restored the day,
-In slumber sweet the reverend Phœnix lay.
-But in his inner tent, an ampler space,
-Achilles slept; and in his warm embrace
-Fair Diomede of the Lesbian race.
-Last, for Patroclus was the couch prepared,
-Whose nightly joys the beauteous Iphis shared;
-Achilles to his friend consign’d her charms
-When Scyros fell before his conquering arms.
-
-And now the elected chiefs whom Greece had sent,
-Pass’d through the hosts, and reach’d the royal tent.
-Then rising all, with goblets in their hands,
-The peers and leaders of the Achaian bands
-Hail’d their return: Atrides first begun:
-
-“Say what success? divine Laertes’ son!
-Achilles’ high resolves declare to all:
-Returns the chief, or must our navy fall?”
-
-“Great king of nations! (Ithacus replied)
-Fix’d is his wrath, unconquer’d is his pride;
-He slights thy friendship, thy proposals scorns,
-And, thus implored, with fiercer fury burns.
-To save our army, and our fleets to free,
-Is not his care; but left to Greece and thee.
-Your eyes shall view, when morning paints the sky,
-Beneath his oars the whitening billows fly;
-Us too he bids our oars and sails employ,
-Nor hope the fall of heaven-protected Troy;
-For Jove o’ershades her with his arm divine,
-Inspires her war, and bids her glory shine.
-Such was his word: what further he declared,
-These sacred heralds and great Ajax heard.
-But Phœnix in his tent the chief retains,
-Safe to transport him to his native plains
-When morning dawns; if other he decree,
-His age is sacred, and his choice is free.”
-
-Ulysses ceased: the great Achaian host,
-With sorrow seized, in consternation lost,
-Attend the stern reply. Tydides broke
-The general silence, and undaunted spoke.
-“Why should we gifts to proud Achilles send,
-Or strive with prayers his haughty soul to bend?
-His country’s woes he glories to deride,
-And prayers will burst that swelling heart with pride.
-Be the fierce impulse of his rage obey’d,
-Our battles let him or desert or aid;
-Then let him arm when Jove or he think fit:
-That, to his madness, or to Heaven commit:
-What for ourselves we can, is always ours;
-This night, let due repast refresh our powers;
-(For strength consists in spirits and in blood,
-And those are owed to generous wine and food;)
-But when the rosy messenger of day
-Strikes the blue mountains with her golden ray,
-Ranged at the ships, let all our squadrons shine
-In flaming arms, a long-extended line:
-In the dread front let great Atrides stand,
-The first in danger, as in high command.”
-
-Shouts of acclaim the listening heroes raise,
-Then each to Heaven the due libations pays;
-Till sleep, descending o’er the tents, bestows
-The grateful blessings of desired repose.[214]
-
-
-[Illustration: ] ACHILLES
-
-
-
-
-BOOK X.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE NIGHT-ADVENTURE OF DIOMED AND ULYSSES.
-
-
-Upon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, the distress of
-Agamemnon is described in the most lively manner. He takes no rest that
-night, but passes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and contriving
-all possible methods for the public safety. Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses,
-and Diomed are employed in raising the rest of the captains. They call
-a council of war, and determine to send scouts into the enemies’ camp,
-to learn their posture, and discover their intentions. Diomed
-undertakes this hazardous enterprise, and makes choice of Ulysses for
-his companion. In their passage they surprise Dolon, whom Hector had
-sent on a like design to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are
-informed of the situation of the Trojan and auxiliary forces, and
-particularly of Rhesus, and the Thracians who were lately arrived. They
-pass on with success; kill Rhesus, with several of his officers, and
-seize the famous horses of that prince, with which they return in
-triumph to the camp.
-    The same night continues; the scene lies in the two camps.
-
-
-All night the chiefs before their vessels lay,
-And lost in sleep the labours of the day:
-All but the king: with various thoughts oppress’d,[215]
-His country’s cares lay rolling in his breast.
-As when by lightnings Jove’s ethereal power
-Foretels the rattling hail, or weighty shower,
-Or sends soft snows to whiten all the shore,
-Or bids the brazen throat of war to roar;
-By fits one flash succeeds as one expires,
-And heaven flames thick with momentary fires:
-So bursting frequent from Atrides’ breast,
-Sighs following sighs his inward fears confess’d.
-Now o’er the fields, dejected, he surveys
-From thousand Trojan fires the mounting blaze;
-Hears in the passing wind their music blow,
-And marks distinct the voices of the foe.
-Now looking backwards to the fleet and coast,
-Anxious he sorrows for the endangered host.
-He rends his hair, in sacrifice to Jove,
-And sues to him that ever lives above:
-Inly he groans; while glory and despair
-Divide his heart, and wage a double war.
-
-A thousand cares his labouring breast revolves;
-To seek sage Nestor now the chief resolves,
-With him, in wholesome counsels, to debate
-What yet remains to save the afflicted state.
-He rose, and first he cast his mantle round,
-Next on his feet the shining sandals bound;
-A lion’s yellow spoils his back conceal’d;
-His warlike hand a pointed javelin held.
-Meanwhile his brother, press’d with equal woes,
-Alike denied the gifts of soft repose,
-Laments for Greece, that in his cause before
-So much had suffer’d and must suffer more.
-A leopard’s spotted hide his shoulders spread:
-A brazen helmet glitter’d on his head:
-Thus (with a javelin in his hand) he went
-To wake Atrides in the royal tent.
-Already waked, Atrides he descried,
-His armour buckling at his vessel’s side.
-Joyful they met; the Spartan thus begun:
-“Why puts my brother his bright armour on?
-Sends he some spy, amidst these silent hours,
-To try yon camp, and watch the Trojan powers?
-But say, what hero shall sustain that task?
-Such bold exploits uncommon courage ask;
-Guideless, alone, through night’s dark shade to go,
-And midst a hostile camp explore the foe.”
-
-To whom the king: “In such distress we stand,
-No vulgar counsel our affairs demand;
-Greece to preserve, is now no easy part,
-But asks high wisdom, deep design, and art.
-For Jove, averse, our humble prayer denies,
-And bows his head to Hector’s sacrifice.
-What eye has witness’d, or what ear believed,
-In one great day, by one great arm achieved,
-Such wondrous deeds as Hector’s hand has done,
-And we beheld, the last revolving sun?
-What honours the beloved of Jove adorn!
-Sprung from no god, and of no goddess born;
-Yet such his acts, as Greeks unborn shall tell,
-And curse the battle where their fathers fell.
-
-“Now speed thy hasty course along the fleet,
-There call great Ajax, and the prince of Crete;
-Ourself to hoary Nestor will repair;
-To keep the guards on duty be his care,
-(For Nestor’s influence best that quarter guides,
-Whose son with Merion, o’er the watch presides.”)
-To whom the Spartan: “These thy orders borne,
-Say, shall I stay, or with despatch return?”
-“There shall thou stay, (the king of men replied,)
-Else may we miss to meet, without a guide,
-The paths so many, and the camp so wide.
-Still, with your voice the slothful soldiers raise,
-Urge by their fathers’ fame their future praise.
-Forget we now our state and lofty birth;
-Not titles here, but works, must prove our worth.
-To labour is the lot of man below;
-And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe.”
-
-This said, each parted to his several cares:
-The king to Nestor’s sable ship repairs;
-The sage protector of the Greeks he found
-Stretch’d in his bed with all his arms around;
-The various-colour’d scarf, the shield he rears,
-The shining helmet, and the pointed spears;
-The dreadful weapons of the warrior’s rage,
-That, old in arms, disdain’d the peace of age.
-Then, leaning on his hand his watchful head,
-The hoary monarch raised his eyes and said:
-
-“What art thou, speak, that on designs unknown,
-While others sleep, thus range the camp alone;
-Seek’st thou some friend or nightly sentinel?
-Stand off, approach not, but thy purpose tell.”
-
-“O son of Neleus, (thus the king rejoin’d,)
-Pride of the Greeks, and glory of thy kind!
-Lo, here the wretched Agamemnon stands,
-The unhappy general of the Grecian bands,
-Whom Jove decrees with daily cares to bend,
-And woes, that only with his life shall end!
-Scarce can my knees these trembling limbs sustain,
-And scarce my heart support its load of pain.
-No taste of sleep these heavy eyes have known,
-Confused, and sad, I wander thus alone,
-With fears distracted, with no fix’d design;
-And all my people’s miseries are mine.
-If aught of use thy waking thoughts suggest,
-(Since cares, like mine, deprive thy soul of rest,)
-Impart thy counsel, and assist thy friend;
-Now let us jointly to the trench descend,
-At every gate the fainting guard excite,
-Tired with the toils of day and watch of night;
-Else may the sudden foe our works invade,
-So near, and favour’d by the gloomy shade.”
-
-To him thus Nestor: “Trust the powers above,
-Nor think proud Hector’s hopes confirm’d by Jove:
-How ill agree the views of vain mankind,
-And the wise counsels of the eternal mind!
-Audacious Hector, if the gods ordain
-That great Achilles rise and rage again,
-What toils attend thee, and what woes remain!
-Lo, faithful Nestor thy command obeys;
-The care is next our other chiefs to raise:
-Ulysses, Diomed, we chiefly need;
-Meges for strength, Oïleus famed for speed.
-Some other be despatch’d of nimbler feet,
-To those tall ships, remotest of the fleet,
-Where lie great Ajax and the king of Crete.[216]
-To rouse the Spartan I myself decree;
-Dear as he is to us, and dear to thee,
-Yet must I tax his sloth, that claims no share
-With his great brother in his martial care:
-Him it behoved to every chief to sue,
-Preventing every part perform’d by you;
-For strong necessity our toils demands,
-Claims all our hearts, and urges all our hands.”
-
-To whom the king: “With reverence we allow
-Thy just rebukes, yet learn to spare them now:
-My generous brother is of gentle kind,
-He seems remiss, but bears a valiant mind;
-Through too much deference to our sovereign sway,
-Content to follow when we lead the way:
-But now, our ills industrious to prevent,
-Long ere the rest he rose, and sought my tent.
-The chiefs you named, already at his call,
-Prepare to meet us near the navy-wall;
-Assembling there, between the trench and gates,
-Near the night-guards, our chosen council waits.”
-
-“Then none (said Nestor) shall his rule withstand,
-For great examples justify command.”
-With that, the venerable warrior rose;
-The shining greaves his manly legs enclose;
-His purple mantle golden buckles join’d,
-Warm with the softest wool, and doubly lined.
-Then rushing from his tent, he snatch’d in haste
-His steely lance, that lighten’d as he pass’d.
-The camp he traversed through the sleeping crowd,
-Stopp’d at Ulysses’ tent, and call’d aloud.
-Ulysses, sudden as the voice was sent,
-Awakes, starts up, and issues from his tent.
-“What new distress, what sudden cause of fright,
-Thus leads you wandering in the silent night?”
-“O prudent chief! (the Pylian sage replied)
-Wise as thou art, be now thy wisdom tried:
-Whatever means of safety can be sought,
-Whatever counsels can inspire our thought,
-Whatever methods, or to fly or fight;
-All, all depend on this important night!”
-He heard, return’d, and took his painted shield;
-Then join’d the chiefs, and follow’d through the field.
-Without his tent, bold Diomed they found,
-All sheathed in arms, his brave companions round:
-Each sunk in sleep, extended on the field,
-His head reclining on his bossy shield.
-A wood of spears stood by, that, fix’d upright,
-Shot from their flashing points a quivering light.
-A bull’s black hide composed the hero’s bed;
-A splendid carpet roll’d beneath his head.
-Then, with his foot, old Nestor gently shakes
-The slumbering chief, and in these words awakes:
-
-“Rise, son of Tydeus! to the brave and strong
-Rest seems inglorious, and the night too long.
-But sleep’st thou now, when from yon hill the foe
-Hangs o’er the fleet, and shades our walls below?”
-
-At this, soft slumber from his eyelids fled;
-The warrior saw the hoary chief, and said:
-“Wondrous old man! whose soul no respite knows,
-Though years and honours bid thee seek repose,
-Let younger Greeks our sleeping warriors wake;
-Ill fits thy age these toils to undertake.”
-“My friend, (he answered,) generous is thy care;
-These toils, my subjects and my sons might bear;
-Their loyal thoughts and pious love conspire
-To ease a sovereign and relieve a sire:
-But now the last despair surrounds our host;
-No hour must pass, no moment must be lost;
-Each single Greek, in this conclusive strife,
-Stands on the sharpest edge of death or life:
-Yet, if my years thy kind regard engage,
-Employ thy youth as I employ my age;
-Succeed to these my cares, and rouse the rest;
-He serves me most, who serves his country best.”
-
-This said, the hero o’er his shoulders flung
-A lion’s spoils, that to his ankles hung;
-Then seized his ponderous lance, and strode along.
-Meges the bold, with Ajax famed for speed,
-The warrior roused, and to the entrenchments lead.
-
-And now the chiefs approach the nightly guard;
-A wakeful squadron, each in arms prepared:
-The unwearied watch their listening leaders keep,
-And, couching close, repel invading sleep.
-So faithful dogs their fleecy charge maintain,
-With toil protected from the prowling train;
-When the gaunt lioness, with hunger bold,
-Springs from the mountains toward the guarded fold:
-Through breaking woods her rustling course they hear;
-Loud, and more loud, the clamours strike their ear
-Of hounds and men: they start, they gaze around,
-Watch every side, and turn to every sound.
-Thus watch’d the Grecians, cautious of surprise,
-Each voice, each motion, drew their ears and eyes:
-Each step of passing feet increased the affright;
-And hostile Troy was ever full in sight.
-Nestor with joy the wakeful band survey’d,
-And thus accosted through the gloomy shade.
-“’Tis well, my sons! your nightly cares employ;
-Else must our host become the scorn of Troy.
-Watch thus, and Greece shall live.” The hero said;
-Then o’er the trench the following chieftains led.
-His son, and godlike Merion, march’d behind
-(For these the princes to their council join’d).
-The trenches pass’d, the assembled kings around
-In silent state the consistory crown’d.
-A place there was, yet undefiled with gore,
-The spot where Hector stopp’d his rage before;
-When night descending, from his vengeful hand
-Reprieved the relics of the Grecian band:
-(The plain beside with mangled corps was spread,
-And all his progress mark’d by heaps of dead:)
-There sat the mournful kings: when Neleus’ son,
-The council opening, in these words begun:
-
-“Is there (said he) a chief so greatly brave,
-His life to hazard, and his country save?
-Lives there a man, who singly dares to go
-To yonder camp, or seize some straggling foe?
-Or favour’d by the night approach so near,
-Their speech, their counsels, and designs to hear?
-If to besiege our navies they prepare,
-Or Troy once more must be the seat of war?
-This could he learn, and to our peers recite,
-And pass unharm’d the dangers of the night;
-What fame were his through all succeeding days,
-While Phœbus shines, or men have tongues to praise!
-What gifts his grateful country would bestow!
-What must not Greece to her deliverer owe?
-A sable ewe each leader should provide,
-With each a sable lambkin by her side;
-At every rite his share should be increased,
-And his the foremost honours of the feast.”
-
-Fear held them mute: alone, untaught to fear,
-Tydides spoke—“The man you seek is here.
-Through yon black camps to bend my dangerous way,
-Some god within commands, and I obey.
-But let some other chosen warrior join,
-To raise my hopes, and second my design.
-By mutual confidence and mutual aid,
-Great deeds are done, and great discoveries made;
-The wise new prudence from the wise acquire,
-And one brave hero fans another’s fire.”
-
-Contending leaders at the word arose;
-Each generous breast with emulation glows;
-So brave a task each Ajax strove to share,
-Bold Merion strove, and Nestor’s valiant heir;
-The Spartan wish’d the second place to gain,
-And great Ulysses wish’d, nor wish’d in vain.
-Then thus the king of men the contest ends:
-“Thou first of warriors, and thou best of friends,
-Undaunted Diomed! what chief to join
-In this great enterprise, is only thine.
-Just be thy choice, without affection made;
-To birth, or office, no respect be paid;
-Let worth determine here.” The monarch spake,
-And inly trembled for his brother’s sake.
-
-“Then thus (the godlike Diomed rejoin’d)
-My choice declares the impulse of my mind.
-How can I doubt, while great Ulysses stands
-To lend his counsels and assist our hands?
-A chief, whose safety is Minerva’s care;
-So famed, so dreadful, in the works of war:
-Bless’d in his conduct, I no aid require;
-Wisdom like his might pass through flames of fire.”
-
-“It fits thee not, before these chiefs of fame,
-(Replied the sage,) to praise me, or to blame:
-Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe,
-Are lost on hearers that our merits know.
-But let us haste—Night rolls the hours away,
-The reddening orient shows the coming day,
-The stars shine fainter on the ethereal plains,
-And of night’s empire but a third remains.”
-
-Thus having spoke, with generous ardour press’d,
-In arms terrific their huge limbs they dress’d.
-A two-edged falchion Thrasymed the brave,
-And ample buckler, to Tydides gave:
-Then in a leathern helm he cased his head,
-Short of its crest, and with no plume o’erspread:
-(Such as by youths unused to arms are worn:)
-No spoils enrich it, and no studs adorn.
-Next him Ulysses took a shining sword,
-A bow and quiver, with bright arrows stored:
-A well-proved casque, with leather braces bound,
-(Thy gift, Meriones,) his temples crown’d;
-Soft wool within; without, in order spread,[217]
-A boar’s white teeth grinn’d horrid o’er his head.
-This from Amyntor, rich Ormenus’ son,
-Autolycus by fraudful rapine won,
-And gave Amphidamas; from him the prize
-Molus received, the pledge of social ties;
-The helmet next by Merion was possess’d,
-And now Ulysses’ thoughtful temples press’d.
-Thus sheathed in arms, the council they forsake,
-And dark through paths oblique their progress take.
-Just then, in sign she favour’d their intent,
-A long-wing’d heron great Minerva sent:
-This, though surrounding shades obscured their view,
-By the shrill clang and whistling wings they knew.
-As from the right she soar’d, Ulysses pray’d,
-Hail’d the glad omen, and address’d the maid:
-
-“O daughter of that god whose arm can wield
-The avenging bolt, and shake the saber shield!
-O thou! for ever present in my way,
-Who all my motions, all my toils survey!
-Safe may we pass beneath the gloomy shade,
-Safe by thy succour to our ships convey’d,
-And let some deed this signal night adorn,
-To claim the tears of Trojans yet unborn.”
-
-Then godlike Diomed preferr’d his prayer:
-“Daughter of Jove, unconquer’d Pallas! hear.
-Great queen of arms, whose favour Tydeus won,
-As thou defend’st the sire, defend the son.
-When on Æsopus’ banks the banded powers
-Of Greece he left, and sought the Theban towers,
-Peace was his charge; received with peaceful show,
-He went a legate, but return’d a foe:
-Then help’d by thee, and cover’d by thy shield,
-He fought with numbers, and made numbers yield.
-So now be present, O celestial maid!
-So still continue to the race thine aid!
-A youthful steer shall fall beneath the stroke,
-Untamed, unconscious of the galling yoke,
-With ample forehead, and with spreading horns,
-Whose taper tops refulgent gold adorns.”
-The heroes pray’d, and Pallas from the skies
-Accords their vow, succeeds their enterprise.
-Now, like two lions panting for the prey,
-With dreadful thoughts they trace the dreary way,
-Through the black horrors of the ensanguined plain,
-Through dust, through blood, o’er arms, and hills of slain.
-
-Nor less bold Hector, and the sons of Troy,
-On high designs the wakeful hours employ;
-The assembled peers their lofty chief enclosed;
-Who thus the counsels of his breast proposed:
-
-“What glorious man, for high attempts prepared,
-Dares greatly venture for a rich reward?
-Of yonder fleet a bold discovery make,
-What watch they keep, and what resolves they take?
-If now subdued they meditate their flight,
-And, spent with toil, neglect the watch of night?
-His be the chariot that shall please him most,
-Of all the plunder of the vanquish’d host;
-His the fair steeds that all the rest excel,
-And his the glory to have served so well.”
-
-A youth there was among the tribes of Troy,
-Dolon his name, Eumedes’ only boy,
-(Five girls beside the reverend herald told.)
-Rich was the son in brass, and rich in gold;
-Not bless’d by nature with the charms of face,
-But swift of foot, and matchless in the race.
-“Hector! (he said) my courage bids me meet
-This high achievement, and explore the fleet:
-But first exalt thy sceptre to the skies,
-And swear to grant me the demanded prize;
-The immortal coursers, and the glittering car,
-That bear Pelides through the ranks of war.
-Encouraged thus, no idle scout I go,
-Fulfil thy wish, their whole intention know,
-Even to the royal tent pursue my way,
-And all their counsels, all their aims betray.”
-
-The chief then heaved the golden sceptre high,
-Attesting thus the monarch of the sky:
-“Be witness thou! immortal lord of all!
-Whose thunder shakes the dark aerial hall:
-By none but Dolon shall this prize be borne,
-And him alone the immortal steeds adorn.”
-
-Thus Hector swore: the gods were call’d in vain,
-But the rash youth prepares to scour the plain:
-Across his back the bended bow he flung,
-A wolf’s grey hide around his shoulders hung,
-A ferret’s downy fur his helmet lined,
-And in his hand a pointed javelin shined.
-Then (never to return) he sought the shore,
-And trod the path his feet must tread no more.
-Scarce had he pass’d the steeds and Trojan throng,
-(Still bending forward as he coursed along,)
-When, on the hollow way, the approaching tread
-Ulysses mark’d, and thus to Diomed;
-
-“O friend! I hear some step of hostile feet,
-Moving this way, or hastening to the fleet;
-Some spy, perhaps, to lurk beside the main;
-Or nightly pillager that strips the slain.
-Yet let him pass, and win a little space;
-Then rush behind him, and prevent his pace.
-But if too swift of foot he flies before,
-Confine his course along the fleet and shore,
-Betwixt the camp and him our spears employ,
-And intercept his hoped return to Troy.”
-
-With that they stepp’d aside, and stoop’d their head,
-(As Dolon pass’d,) behind a heap of dead:
-Along the path the spy unwary flew;
-Soft, at just distance, both the chiefs pursue.
-So distant they, and such the space between,
-As when two teams of mules divide the green,
-(To whom the hind like shares of land allows,)
-When now new furrows part the approaching ploughs.
-Now Dolon, listening, heard them as they pass’d;
-Hector (he thought) had sent, and check’d his haste,
-Till scarce at distance of a javelin’s throw,
-No voice succeeding, he perceived the foe.
-As when two skilful hounds the leveret wind;
-Or chase through woods obscure the trembling hind;
-Now lost, now seen, they intercept his way,
-And from the herd still turn the flying prey:
-So fast, and with such fears, the Trojan flew;
-So close, so constant, the bold Greeks pursue.
-Now almost on the fleet the dastard falls,
-And mingles with the guards that watch the walls;
-When brave Tydides stopp’d; a gen’rous thought
-(Inspired by Pallas) in his bosom wrought,
-Lest on the foe some forward Greek advance,
-And snatch the glory from his lifted lance.
-Then thus aloud: “Whoe’er thou art, remain;
-This javelin else shall fix thee to the plain.”
-He said, and high in air the weapon cast,
-Which wilful err’d, and o’er his shoulder pass’d;
-Then fix’d in earth. Against the trembling wood
-The wretch stood propp’d, and quiver’d as he stood;
-A sudden palsy seized his turning head;
-His loose teeth chatter’d, and his colour fled;
-The panting warriors seize him as he stands,
-And with unmanly tears his life demands.
-
-“O spare my youth, and for the breath I owe,
-Large gifts of price my father shall bestow:
-Vast heaps of brass shall in your ships be told,
-And steel well-temper’d and refulgent gold.”
-
-To whom Ulysses made this wise reply:
-“Whoe’er thou art, be bold, nor fear to die.
-What moves thee, say, when sleep has closed the sight,
-To roam the silent fields in dead of night?
-Cam’st thou the secrets of our camp to find,
-By Hector prompted, or thy daring mind?
-Or art some wretch by hopes of plunder led,
-Through heaps of carnage, to despoil the dead?”
-
-Then thus pale Dolon, with a fearful look:
-(Still, as he spoke, his limbs with horror shook:)
-“Hither I came, by Hector’s words deceived;
-Much did he promise, rashly I believed:
-No less a bribe than great Achilles’ car,
-And those swift steeds that sweep the ranks of war,
-Urged me, unwilling, this attempt to make;
-To learn what counsels, what resolves you take:
-If now subdued, you fix your hopes on flight,
-And, tired with toils, neglect the watch of night.”
-
-“Bold was thy aim, and glorious was the prize,
-(Ulysses, with a scornful smile, replies,)
-Far other rulers those proud steeds demand,
-And scorn the guidance of a vulgar hand;
-Even great Achilles scarce their rage can tame,
-Achilles sprung from an immortal dame.
-But say, be faithful, and the truth recite!
-Where lies encamp’d the Trojan chief to-night?
-Where stand his coursers? in what quarter sleep
-Their other princes? tell what watch they keep:
-Say, since this conquest, what their counsels are;
-Or here to combat, from their city far,
-Or back to Ilion’s walls transfer the war?”
-
-Ulysses thus, and thus Eumedes’ son:
-“What Dolon knows, his faithful tongue shall own.
-Hector, the peers assembling in his tent,
-A council holds at Ilus’ monument.
-No certain guards the nightly watch partake;
-Where’er yon fires ascend, the Trojans wake:
-Anxious for Troy, the guard the natives keep;
-Safe in their cares, the auxiliar forces sleep,
-Whose wives and infants, from the danger far,
-Discharge their souls of half the fears of war.”
-
-“Then sleep those aids among the Trojan train,
-(Inquired the chief,) or scattered o’er the plain?”
-To whom the spy: “Their powers they thus dispose
-The Paeons, dreadful with their bended bows,
-The Carians, Caucons, the Pelasgian host,
-And Leleges, encamp along the coast.
-Not distant far, lie higher on the land
-The Lycian, Mysian, and Mæonian band,
-And Phrygia’s horse, by Thymbras’ ancient wall;
-The Thracians utmost, and apart from all.
-These Troy but lately to her succour won,
-Led on by Rhesus, great Eioneus’ son:
-I saw his coursers in proud triumph go,
-Swift as the wind, and white as winter-snow;
-Rich silver plates his shining car infold;
-His solid arms, refulgent, flame with gold;
-No mortal shoulders suit the glorious load,
-Celestial panoply, to grace a god!
-Let me, unhappy, to your fleet be borne,
-Or leave me here, a captive’s fate to mourn,
-In cruel chains, till your return reveal
-The truth or falsehood of the news I tell.”
-
-To this Tydides, with a gloomy frown:
-“Think not to live, though all the truth be shown:
-Shall we dismiss thee, in some future strife
-To risk more bravely thy now forfeit life?
-Or that again our camps thou may’st explore?
-No—once a traitor, thou betray’st no more.”
-
-Sternly he spoke, and as the wretch prepared
-With humble blandishment to stroke his beard,
-Like lightning swift the wrathful falchion flew,
-Divides the neck, and cuts the nerves in two;
-One instant snatch’d his trembling soul to hell,
-The head, yet speaking, mutter’d as it fell.
-The furry helmet from his brow they tear,
-The wolf’s grey hide, the unbended bow and spear;
-These great Ulysses lifting to the skies,
-To favouring Pallas dedicates the prize:
-
-“Great queen of arms, receive this hostile spoil,
-And let the Thracian steeds reward our toil;
-Thee, first of all the heavenly host, we praise;
-O speed our labours, and direct our ways!”
-This said, the spoils, with dropping gore defaced,
-High on a spreading tamarisk he placed;
-Then heap’d with reeds and gathered boughs the plain,
-To guide their footsteps to the place again.
-
-Through the still night they cross the devious fields,
-Slippery with blood, o’er arms and heaps of shields,
-Arriving where the Thracian squadrons lay,
-And eased in sleep the labours of the day.
-Ranged in three lines they view the prostrate band:
-The horses yoked beside each warrior stand.
-Their arms in order on the ground reclined,
-Through the brown shade the fulgid weapons shined:
-Amidst lay Rhesus, stretch’d in sleep profound,
-And the white steeds behind his chariot bound.
-The welcome sight Ulysses first descries,
-And points to Diomed the tempting prize.
-“The man, the coursers, and the car behold!
-Described by Dolon, with the arms of gold.
-Now, brave Tydides! now thy courage try,
-Approach the chariot, and the steeds untie;
-Or if thy soul aspire to fiercer deeds,
-Urge thou the slaughter, while I seize the steeds.”
-
-Pallas (this said) her hero’s bosom warms,
-Breathed in his heart, and strung his nervous arms;
-Where’er he pass’d, a purple stream pursued
-His thirsty falchion, fat with hostile blood,
-Bathed all his footsteps, dyed the fields with gore,
-And a low groan remurmur’d through the shore.
-So the grim lion, from his nightly den,
-O’erleaps the fences, and invades the pen,
-On sheep or goats, resistless in his way,
-He falls, and foaming rends the guardless prey;
-Nor stopp’d the fury of his vengeful hand,
-Till twelve lay breathless of the Thracian band.
-Ulysses following, as his partner slew,
-Back by the foot each slaughter’d warrior drew;
-The milk-white coursers studious to convey
-Safe to the ships, he wisely cleared the way:
-Lest the fierce steeds, not yet to battles bred,
-Should start, and tremble at the heaps of dead.
-Now twelve despatch’d, the monarch last they found;
-Tydides’ falchion fix’d him to the ground.
-Just then a deathful dream Minerva sent,
-A warlike form appear’d before his tent,
-Whose visionary steel his bosom tore:
-So dream’d the monarch, and awaked no more.[218]
-
-Ulysses now the snowy steeds detains,
-And leads them, fasten’d by the silver reins;
-These, with his bow unbent, he lash’d along;
-(The scourge forgot, on Rhesus’ chariot hung;)
-Then gave his friend the signal to retire;
-But him, new dangers, new achievements fire;
-Doubtful he stood, or with his reeking blade
-To send more heroes to the infernal shade,
-Drag off the car where Rhesus’ armour lay,
-Or heave with manly force, and lift away.
-While unresolved the son of Tydeus stands,
-Pallas appears, and thus her chief commands:
-
-“Enough, my son; from further slaughter cease,
-Regard thy safety, and depart in peace;
-Haste to the ships, the gotten spoils enjoy,
-Nor tempt too far the hostile gods of Troy.”
-
-The voice divine confess’d the martial maid;
-In haste he mounted, and her word obey’d;
-The coursers fly before Ulysses’ bow,
-Swift as the wind, and white as winter-snow.
-
-Not unobserved they pass’d: the god of light
-Had watch’d his Troy, and mark’d Minerva’s flight,
-Saw Tydeus’ son with heavenly succour bless’d,
-And vengeful anger fill’d his sacred breast.
-Swift to the Trojan camp descends the power,
-And wakes Hippocoon in the morning-hour;
-(On Rhesus’ side accustom’d to attend,
-A faithful kinsman, and instructive friend;)
-He rose, and saw the field deform’d with blood,
-An empty space where late the coursers stood,
-The yet-warm Thracians panting on the coast;
-For each he wept, but for his Rhesus most:
-Now while on Rhesus’ name he calls in vain,
-The gathering tumult spreads o’er all the plain;
-On heaps the Trojans rush, with wild affright,
-And wondering view the slaughters of the night.
-
-Meanwhile the chiefs, arriving at the shade
-Where late the spoils of Hector’s spy were laid,
-Ulysses stopp’d; to him Tydides bore
-The trophy, dropping yet with Dolon’s gore:
-Then mounts again; again their nimbler feet
-The coursers ply, and thunder towards the fleet.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] DIOMED AND ULYSSES RETURNING WITH THE SPOILS OF RHESUS
-
-
-Old Nestor first perceived the approaching sound,
-Bespeaking thus the Grecian peers around:
-“Methinks the noise of trampling steeds I hear,
-Thickening this way, and gathering on my ear;
-Perhaps some horses of the Trojan breed
-(So may, ye gods! my pious hopes succeed)
-The great Tydides and Ulysses bear,
-Return’d triumphant with this prize of war.
-Yet much I fear (ah, may that fear be vain!)
-The chiefs outnumber’d by the Trojan train;
-Perhaps, even now pursued, they seek the shore;
-Or, oh! perhaps those heroes are no more.”
-
-Scarce had he spoke, when, lo! the chiefs appear,
-And spring to earth; the Greeks dismiss their fear:
-With words of friendship and extended hands
-They greet the kings; and Nestor first demands:
-
-“Say thou, whose praises all our host proclaim,
-Thou living glory of the Grecian name!
-Say whence these coursers? by what chance bestow’d,
-The spoil of foes, or present of a god?
-Not those fair steeds, so radiant and so gay,
-That draw the burning chariot of the day.
-Old as I am, to age I scorn to yield,
-And daily mingle in the martial field;
-But sure till now no coursers struck my sight
-Like these, conspicuous through the ranks of fight.
-Some god, I deem, conferred the glorious prize,
-Bless’d as ye are, and favourites of the skies;
-The care of him who bids the thunder roar,
-And her, whose fury bathes the world with gore.”
-
-“Father! not so, (sage Ithacus rejoin’d,)
-The gifts of heaven are of a nobler kind.
-Of Thracian lineage are the steeds ye view,
-Whose hostile king the brave Tydides slew;
-Sleeping he died, with all his guards around,
-And twelve beside lay gasping on the ground.
-These other spoils from conquer’d Dolon came,
-A wretch, whose swiftness was his only fame;
-By Hector sent our forces to explore,
-He now lies headless on the sandy shore.”
-
-Then o’er the trench the bounding coursers flew;
-The joyful Greeks with loud acclaim pursue.
-Straight to Tydides’ high pavilion borne,
-The matchless steeds his ample stalls adorn:
-The neighing coursers their new fellows greet,
-And the full racks are heap’d with generous wheat.
-But Dolon’s armour, to his ships convey’d,
-High on the painted stern Ulysses laid,
-A trophy destin’d to the blue-eyed maid.
-
-Now from nocturnal sweat and sanguine stain
-They cleanse their bodies in the neighb’ring main:
-Then in the polished bath, refresh’d from toil,
-Their joints they supple with dissolving oil,
-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.
-
-
-
-
-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 Menelaus and Ajax rescue him.
-Hector comes against Ajax, but that hero alone opposes multitudes, and
-rallies the Greeks. In the meantime 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 with an account of the
-accidents of the day, and a long recital of some former wars which he
-remembered, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight
-for his countrymen, or at least to permit him to do it, clad in
-Achilles’ armour. Patroclus, on his return, meets Eurypylus 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,[219]
-Now rose refulgent from Tithonus’ 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.
-
-Even Ajax and Achilles heard the sound,
-Whose ships, remote, the guarded navy bound,
-Thence the black fury through the Grecian throng
-With horror 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.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE DESCENT OF DISCORD
-
-
-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 dress’d,
-And first he cased 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 possess’d:
-(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 colour’d rainbows o’er a showery cloud
-(Jove’s wondrous bow, of three celestial dies,
-Placed as a sign to man amidst the skies).
-A radiant baldric, o’er his shoulder tied,
-Sustain’d the sword that glitter’d at his side:
-Gold was the hilt, a silver sheath encased
-The shining blade, and golden hangers graced.
-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 terrors fill’d the 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 the embroider’d monster ends.
-Last o’er his brows his fourfold helm he placed,
-With nodding horse-hair formidably graced;
-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 promised 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 wield
-The lighter arms, rush forward to the field.
-To second these, in close array combined,
-The squadrons spread their sable wings behind.
-Now shouts and tumults wake the tardy sun,
-As with the light the warriors’ toils begun.
-Even Jove, whose thunder spoke his wrath, distill’d
-Red drops of blood o’er all the fatal field;[220]
-The woes of men unwilling to survey,
-And all the slaughters that must stain the day.
-
-Near Ilus’ tomb, in order ranged around,
-The Trojan lines possess’d the rising ground:
-There wise Polydamas and Hector stood;
-Æneas, 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 the ethereal race.
-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 godlike man,
-Plunged 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,
-Ranged in two bands, their crooked weapons wield,
-Bear down the furrows, till their labours meet;
-Thick fall the heapy harvests 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;[221]
-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 the immortal train,
-Swells the red horrors of this direful plain:
-The gods in peace their golden mansions fill,
-Ranged in bright order on the Olympian hill:
-But general murmurs told their griefs above,
-And each accused the partial will of Jove.
-Meanwhile apart, superior, and alone,
-The 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 gored with equal wounds.
-But now (what time in some sequester’d vale
-The weary woodman spreads his sparing meal,
-When his tired arms refuse the axe to rear,
-And claim a respite from the sylvan war;
-But not till half the prostrate forests lay
-Stretch’d in long ruin, and exposed to day)
-Then, nor till then, the Greeks’ impulsive might
-Pierced the black phalanx, and let in the light.
-Great Agamemnon then the slaughter led,
-And slew Bienor at his people’s head:
-Whose squire Oïleus, with a sudden spring,
-Leap’d from the chariot to revenge his king;
-But in his front he felt the fatal wound,
-Which pierced his brain, and stretch’d him on the ground.
-Atrides spoil’d, and left them 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 beauteous bodies lie.
-
-Two sons of Priam next to battle move,
-The product, one of marriage, one of love:[222]
-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.
-These on the mountains once Achilles found,
-And captive led, with pliant osiers bound;
-Then to their sire for ample sums restored;
-But now to perish by Atrides’ sword:
-Pierced 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 the chariot on their knees they fall,
-And thus with lifted hands for mercy call:
-
-“O 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-tempered, and persuasive gold.”
-
-These words, attended with the 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 pierced his breast: supine he breathed 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,
-Still slaughtering on, the king of men proceeds;
-The distanced 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 low.
-The steeds fly trembling from his waving sword,
-And many a car, now lighted of its lord,
-Wide o’er the field with guideless 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 his date.
-Safe from the darts, the care of heaven he stood,
-Amidst alarms, and death, and dust, and blood.
-
-Now past the tomb where ancient Ilus lay,
-Through the mid field the routed urge their way:
-Where the wild figs the adjoining summit crown,
-The path they take, and speed to reach the town.
-As swift, Atrides with loud shouts pursued,
-Hot with his toil, and bathed in hostile blood.
-Now near the beech-tree, and the Scæan gates,
-The hero halts, and his associates waits.
-Meanwhile on every side around the plain,
-Dispersed, disorder’d, fly the Trojan train.
-So flies a herd of beeves, that hear dismay’d
-The lion’s roaring through the midnight shade;
-On heaps they tumble with successless haste;
-The savage seizes, draws, and rends the last.
-Not with less fury stern Atrides flew,
-Still press’d the rout, and still the hindmost slew;
-Hurl’d from their cars the bravest chiefs are kill’d,
-And rage, and death, and carnage load the field.
-
-Now storms the victor at the Trojan wall;
-Surveys the towers, and meditates their fall.
-But Jove descending shook the Idaean hills,
-And down their summits pour’d a hundred rills:
-The unkindled lightning in his hand he took,
-And thus the many-coloured maid bespoke:
-
-“Iris, with haste thy golden wings display,
-To godlike Hector this our word convey—
-While Agamemnon wastes the ranks around,
-Fights in the front, and bathes with blood the ground,
-Bid him give way; but issue forth commands,
-And trust the war to less important hands:
-But when, or wounded by the spear or dart,
-That chief shall mount his chariot, and depart,
-Then Jove shall string his arm, and fire his breast,
-Then to her ships shall flying Greece be press’d,
-Till to the main the burning sun descend,
-And sacred night her awful shade extend.”
-
-He spoke, and Iris at his word obey’d;
-On wings of winds descends the various maid.
-The chief she found amidst the ranks of war,
-Close to the bulwarks, on his glittering car.
-The goddess then: “O son of Priam, hear!
-From Jove I come, and his high mandate bear.
-While Agamemnon wastes the ranks around,
-Fights in the front, and bathes with blood the ground,
-Abstain from fight; yet issue forth commands,
-And trust the war to less important hands:
-But when, or wounded by the spear or dart,
-The chief shall mount his chariot, and depart,
-Then Jove shall string thy arm, and fire thy breast,
-Then to her ships shall flying Greece be press’d,
-Till to the main the burning sun descend,
-And sacred night her awful shade extend.”
-
-She said, and vanish’d. Hector, with a bound,
-Springs from his chariot on the trembling ground,
-In clanging arms: he grasps in either hand
-A pointed lance, and speeds from band to band;
-Revives their ardour, turns their steps from flight,
-And wakes anew the dying flames of fight.
-They stand to arms: the Greeks their onset dare,
-Condense their powers, and wait the coming war.
-New force, new spirit, to each breast returns;
-The fight renew’d with fiercer fury burns:
-The king leads on: all fix on him their eye,
-And learn from him to conquer, or to die.
-
-Ye sacred nine! celestial Muses! tell,
-Who faced him first, and by his prowess fell?
-The great Iphidamas, the bold and young,
-From sage Antenor and Theano sprung;
-Whom from his youth his grandsire Cisseus bred,
-And nursed in Thrace where snowy flocks are fed.
-Scarce did the down his rosy cheeks invest,
-And early honour warm his generous breast,
-When the kind sire consign’d his daughter’s charms
-(Theano’s sister) to his youthful arms.
-But call’d by glory to the wars of Troy,
-He leaves untasted the first fruits of joy;
-From his loved bride departs with melting eyes,
-And swift to aid his dearer country flies.
-With twelve black ships he reach’d Percope’s strand,
-Thence took the long laborious march by land.
-Now fierce for fame, before the ranks he springs,
-Towering in arms, and braves the king of kings.
-Atrides first discharged the missive spear;
-The Trojan stoop’d, the javelin pass’d in air.
-Then near the corslet, at the monarch’s heart,
-With all his strength, the youth directs his dart:
-But the broad belt, with plates of silver bound,
-The point rebated, and repell’d the wound.
-Encumber’d with the dart, Atrides stands,
-Till, grasp’d with force, he wrench’d it from his hands;
-At once his weighty sword discharged a wound
-Full on his neck, that fell’d him to the ground.
-Stretch’d in the dust the unhappy warrior lies,
-And sleep eternal seals his swimming eyes.
-Oh worthy better fate! oh early slain!
-Thy country’s friend; and virtuous, though in vain!
-No more the youth shall join his consort’s side,
-At once a virgin, and at once a bride!
-No more with presents her embraces meet,
-Or lay the spoils of conquest at her feet,
-On whom his passion, lavish of his store,
-Bestow’d so much, and vainly promised more!
-Unwept, uncover’d, on the plain he lay,
-While the proud victor bore his arms away.
-
-Coon, Antenor’s eldest hope, was nigh:
-Tears, at the sight, came starting from his eye,
-While pierced with grief the much-loved youth he view’d,
-And the pale features now deform’d with blood.
-Then, with his spear, unseen, his time he took,
-Aim’d at the king, and near his elbow strook.
-The thrilling steel transpierced the brawny part,
-And through his arm stood forth the barbed dart.
-Surprised the monarch feels, yet void of fear
-On Coon rushes with his lifted spear:
-His brother’s corpse the pious Trojan draws,
-And calls his country to assert his cause;
-Defends him breathless on the sanguine field,
-And o’er the body spreads his ample shield.
-Atrides, marking an unguarded part,
-Transfix’d the warrior with his brazen dart;
-Prone on his brother’s bleeding breast he lay,
-The monarch’s falchion lopp’d his head away:
-The social shades the same dark journey go,
-And join each other in the realms below.
-
-The vengeful victor rages round the fields,
-With every weapon art or fury yields:
-By the long lance, the sword, or ponderous stone,
-Whole ranks are broken, and whole troops o’erthrown.
-This, while yet warm distill’d the purple flood;
-But when the wound grew stiff with clotted blood,
-Then grinding tortures his strong bosom rend,
-Less keen those darts the fierce Ilythiae send:
-(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 won;
-Proceed, and finish what this arm begun:
-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 retired,
-But thus his Trojans and his aids he fired:
-“Hear, all ye Dardan, all ye Lycian race!
-Famed 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 provokes 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 foe he pours;
-As from the cloud’s deep bosom, swell’d with showers,
-A sudden storm the purple ocean sweeps,
-Drives the wild waves, and tosses all the deeps.
-Say, Muse! when Jove the Trojan’s glory crown’d,
-Beneath his arm what heroes bit the ground?
-Assaeus, Dolops, and Autonous died,
-Opites next was added to their side;
-Then brave Hipponous, famed in many a fight,
-Opheltius, Orus, sunk to endless night;
-Æsymnus, Agelaus; all chiefs of name;
-The rest were vulgar deaths unknown to fame.
-As when a western whirlwind, charged 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 call’d Tydides forth,
-His soul rekindled, and awaked 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 replied:
-
-“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, raised his vengeful steel,
-And from his car the proud Thymbraeus fell:
-Molion, the charioteer, pursued his lord,
-His death ennobled by Ulysses’ sword.
-There slain, they left them in eternal night,
-Then plunged 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 respired 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 urged 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-famed 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 experienced eyes
-Traverse the files, and to the rescue flies;
-Shouts, as he pass’d, the crystal regions rend,
-And moving armies on his march attend.
-Great Diomed himself was seized with fear,
-And thus bespoke his brother of the war:
-
-“Mark how this way yon bending squadrons yield!
-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 danced
-Razed the smooth cone, and thence obliquely glanced.
-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 shades his swimming eyes.
-Tydides followed 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 shall not long the death deserved 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 eyed 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 placed, he bent his bow,
-And wing’d an arrow at the unwary foe;
-Just as he stoop’d, Agastrophus’s crest
-To seize, and drew the corslet from his breast,
-The bowstring twang’d; nor flew the shaft in vain,
-But pierced 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 fix’d it in his heart!
-So Troy, relieved from that wide-wasting hand,
-Should breathe from slaughter and in combat stand:
-Whose sons now tremble at his darted spear,
-As scatter’d lambs the rushing lion fear.”
-
-He dauntless thus: “Thou conqueror of the fair,
-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 further 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 press’d;
-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 shouting 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 plied;
-And the red slaughter spreads on every side.
-Pierced through the shoulder, first Deiopis fell;
-Next Ennomus and Thoon sank to hell;
-Chersidamas, 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 sleight,
-Than worn to toils, and active in the fight!
-This day two brothers shall thy conquest grace,
-And end at once the great Hippasian race,
-Or thou beneath this lance must press the field.”
-He said, and forceful pierced his spacious shield:
-Through the strong brass the ringing javelin thrown,
-Plough’d half his side, and bared it to the bone.
-By Pallas’ care, the spear, though deep infix’d,
-Stopp’d 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.
-Nor longer check my conquests on the foe;
-But, pierced by this, to endless darkness go,
-And add one spectre to the realms below!”
-
-He spoke, while Socus, seized with sudden fright,
-Trembling gave way, and turn’d his back to flight;
-Between his shoulders pierced the following dart,
-And held its passage through the panting heart:
-Wide in his breast appear’d the grisly wound;
-He falls; his armour rings against the ground.
-Then thus Ulysses, gazing on the slain:
-“Famed 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 solemn 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,
-Forced 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 cried,
-Who shares his labours, and defends his side:
-“O friend! Ulysses’ shouts invade my ear;
-Distressed he seems, and no assistance near;
-Strong as he is, yet one opposed 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.[223]
-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 surround:
-Just as their jaws his prostrate limbs invade,
-The lion rushes through the woodland shade,
-The wolves, though hungry, scour dispersed away;
-The lordly savage vindicates his prey.
-Ulysses thus, unconquer’d by his pains,
-A single warrior half a host sustains:
-But soon as Ajax leaves his tower-like shield,
-The scattered crowds fly frighted o’er the field;
-Atrides’ arm the sinking hero stays,
-And, saved 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 wintry rains,
-Pours from the mountains o’er the deluged 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,
-Raged on the left, and ruled the tide of war:
-Loud groans proclaim his progress through the plain,
-And deep Scamander swells with heaps of slain.
-There Nestor and Idomeneus oppose
-The warrior’s fury; there the battle glows;
-There fierce on foot, or from the chariot’s height,
-His sword deforms the beauteous ranks of fight.
-The spouse of Helen, dealing darts around,
-Had pierced Machaon with a distant wound:
-In his right shoulder the broad shaft appear’d,
-And trembling Greece for her physician fear’d.
-To Nestor then Idomeneus begun:
-“Glory of Greece, old Neleus’ valiant son!
-Ascend thy chariot, haste with speed away,
-And great Machaon to the ships convey;
-A wise physician skill’d our wounds to heal,
-Is more than armies to the public weal.”
-Old Nestor mounts the seat; beside him rode
-The wounded offspring of the healing god.
-He lends the lash; the steeds with sounding feet
-Shake the dry field, and thunder toward the fleet.
-
-But now Cebriones, from Hector’s car,
-Survey’d the various fortune of the war:
-“While here (he cried) the flying Greeks are slain,
-Trojans on Trojans yonder load the plain.
-Before great Ajax see the mingled throng
-Of men and chariots driven in heaps along!
-I know him well, distinguish’d o’er the field
-By the broad glittering of the sevenfold shield.
-Thither, O Hector, thither urge thy steeds,
-There danger calls, and there the combat bleeds;
-There horse and foot in mingled deaths unite,
-And groans of slaughter mix with shouts of fight.”
-
-Thus having spoke, the driver’s lash resounds;
-Swift through the ranks the rapid chariot bounds;
-Stung by the stroke, the coursers scour the fields,
-O’er heaps of carcases, and hills of shields.
-The horses’ hoofs are bathed in heroes’ gore,
-And, dashing, purple all the car before;
-The groaning axle sable drops distils,
-And mangled carnage clogs the rapid wheels.
-Here Hector, plunging through the thickest fight,
-Broke the dark phalanx, and let in the light:
-(By the long lance, the sword, or ponderous stone,
-The ranks he scatter’d and the troops o’erthrown:)
-Ajax he shuns, through all the dire debate,
-And fears that arm whose force he felt so late.
-But partial Jove, espousing Hector’s part,
-Shot heaven-bred horror through the Grecian’s heart;
-Confused, unnerved in Hector’s presence grown,
-Amazed he stood, with terrors not his own.
-O’er his broad back his moony shield he threw,
-And, glaring round, by tardy steps withdrew.
-Thus the grim lion his retreat maintains,
-Beset with watchful dogs, and shouting swains;
-Repulsed by numbers from the nightly stalls,
-Though rage impels him, and though hunger calls,
-Long stands the showering darts, and missile fires;
-Then sourly slow the indignant beast retires:
-So turn’d stern Ajax, by whole hosts repell’d,
-While his swoln heart at every step rebell’d.
-
-As the slow beast, with heavy strength endued,
-In some wide field by troops of boys pursued,
-Though round his sides a wooden tempest rain,
-Crops the tall harvest, and lays waste the plain;
-Thick on his hide the hollow blows resound,
-The patient animal maintains his ground,
-Scarce from the field with all their efforts chased,
-And stirs but slowly when he stirs at last:
-On Ajax thus a weight of Trojans hung,
-The strokes redoubled on his buckler rung;
-Confiding now in bulky strength he stands,
-Now turns, and backward bears the yielding bands;
-Now stiff recedes, yet hardly seems to fly,
-And threats his followers with retorted eye.
-Fix’d as the bar between two warring powers,
-While hissing darts descend in iron showers:
-In his broad buckler many a weapon stood,
-Its surface bristled with a quivering wood;
-And many a javelin, guiltless on the plain,
-Marks the dry dust, and thirsts for blood in vain.
-But bold Eurypylus his aid imparts,
-And dauntless springs beneath a cloud of darts;
-Whose eager javelin launch’d against the foe,
-Great Apisaon felt the fatal blow;
-From his torn liver the red current flow’d,
-And his slack knees desert their dying load.
-The victor rushing to despoil the dead,
-From Paris’ bow a vengeful arrow fled;
-Fix’d in his nervous thigh the weapon stood,
-Fix’d was the point, but broken was the wood.
-Back to the lines the wounded Greek retired,
-Yet thus retreating, his associates fired:
-
-“What god, O Grecians! has your hearts dismay’d?
-Oh, turn to arms; ’tis Ajax claims your aid.
-This hour he stands the mark of hostile rage,
-And this the last brave battle he shall wage:
-Haste, join your forces; from the gloomy grave
-The warrior rescue, and your country save.”
-Thus urged the chief: a generous troop appears,
-Who spread their bucklers, and advance their spears,
-To guard their wounded friend: while thus they stand
-With pious care, great Ajax joins the band:
-Each takes new courage at the hero’s sight;
-The hero rallies, and renews the fight.
-
-Thus raged both armies like conflicting fires,
-While Nestor’s chariot far from fight retires:
-His coursers steep’d in sweat, and stain’d with gore,
-The Greeks’ preserver, great Machaon, bore.
-That hour Achilles, from the topmost height
-Of his proud fleet, o’erlook’d the fields of fight;
-His feasted eyes beheld around the plain
-The Grecian rout, the slaying, and the slain.
-His friend Machaon singled from the rest,
-A transient pity touch’d his vengeful breast.
-Straight to Menoetius’ much-loved son he sent:
-Graceful as Mars, Patroclus quits his tent;
-In evil hour! Then fate decreed his doom,
-And fix’d the date of all his woes to come.
-
-“Why calls my friend? thy loved injunctions lay;
-Whate’er thy will, Patroclus shall obey.”
-
-“O first of friends! (Pelides thus replied)
-Still at my heart, and ever at my side!
-The time is come, when yon despairing host
-Shall learn the value of the man they lost:
-Now at my knees the Greeks shall pour their moan,
-And proud Atrides tremble on his throne.
-Go now to Nestor, and from him be taught
-What wounded warrior late his chariot brought:
-For, seen at distance, and but seen behind,
-His form recall’d Machaon to my mind;
-Nor could I, through yon cloud, discern his face,
-The coursers pass’d me with so swift a pace.”
-
-The hero said. His friend obey’d with haste,
-Through intermingled ships and tents he pass’d;
-The chiefs descending from their car he found:
-The panting steeds Eurymedon unbound.
-The warriors standing on the breezy shore,
-To dry their sweat, and wash away the gore,
-Here paused a moment, while the gentle gale
-Convey’d that freshness the cool seas exhale;
-Then to consult on farther methods went,
-And took their seats beneath the shady tent.
-The draught prescribed, fair Hecamede prepares,
-Arsinous’ daughter, graced with golden hairs:
-(Whom to his aged arms, a royal slave,
-Greece, as the prize of Nestor’s wisdom gave:)
-A table first with azure feet she placed;
-Whose ample orb a brazen charger graced;
-Honey new-press’d, the sacred flour of wheat,
-And wholesome garlic, crown’d the savoury treat,
-Next her white hand an antique goblet brings,
-A goblet sacred to the Pylian kings
-From eldest times: emboss’d with studs of gold,
-Two feet support it, and four handles hold;
-On each bright handle, bending o’er the brink,
-In sculptured gold, two turtles seem to drink:
-A massy weight, yet heaved with ease by him,
-When the brisk nectar overlook’d the brim.
-Temper’d in this, the nymph of form divine
-Pours a large portion of the Pramnian wine;
-With goat’s-milk cheese a flavourous taste bestows,
-And last with flour the smiling surface strows:
-This for the wounded prince the dame prepares:
-The cordial beverage reverend Nestor shares:
-Salubrious draughts the warriors’ thirst allay,
-And pleasing conference beguiles the day.
-
-Meantime Patroclus, by Achilles sent,
-Unheard approached, and stood before the tent.
-Old Nestor, rising then, the hero led
-To his high seat: the chief refused and said:
-
-“’Tis now no season for these kind delays;
-The great Achilles with impatience stays.
-To great Achilles this respect I owe;
-Who asks, what hero, wounded by the foe,
-Was borne from combat by thy foaming steeds?
-With grief I see the great Machaon bleeds.
-This to report, my hasty course I bend;
-Thou know’st the fiery temper of my friend.”
-“Can then the sons of Greece (the sage rejoin’d)
-Excite compassion in Achilles’ mind?
-Seeks he the sorrows of our host to know?
-This is not half the story of our woe.
-Tell him, not great Machaon bleeds alone,
-Our bravest heroes in the navy groan,
-Ulysses, Agamemnon, Diomed,
-And stern Eurypylus, already bleed.
-But, ah! what flattering hopes I entertain!
-Achilles heeds not, but derides our pain:
-Even till the flames consume our fleet he stays,
-And waits the rising of the fatal blaze.
-Chief after chief the raging foe destroys;
-Calm he looks on, and every death enjoys.
-Now the slow course of all-impairing time
-Unstrings my nerves, and ends my manly prime;
-Oh! had I still that strength my youth possess’d,
-When this bold arm the Epeian powers oppress’d,
-The bulls of Elis in glad triumph led,
-And stretch’d the great Itymonaeus dead!
-Then from my fury fled the trembling swains,
-And ours was all the plunder of the plains:
-Fifty white flocks, full fifty herds of swine,
-As many goats, as many lowing kine:
-And thrice the number of unrivall’d steeds,
-All teeming females, and of generous breeds.
-These, as my first essay of arms, I won;
-Old Neleus gloried in his conquering son.
-Thus Elis forced, her long arrears restored,
-And shares were parted to each Pylian lord.
-The state of Pyle was sunk to last despair,
-When the proud Elians first commenced the war:
-For Neleus’ sons Alcides’ rage had slain;
-Of twelve bold brothers, I alone remain!
-Oppress’d, we arm’d; and now this conquest gain’d,
-My sire three hundred chosen sheep obtain’d.
-(That large reprisal he might justly claim,
-For prize defrauded, and insulted fame,
-When Elis’ monarch, at the public course,
-Detain’d his chariot, and victorious horse.)
-The rest the people shared; myself survey’d
-The just partition, and due victims paid.
-Three days were past, when Elis rose to war,
-With many a courser, and with many a car;
-The sons of Actor at their army’s head
-(Young as they were) the vengeful squadrons led.
-High on the rock fair Thryoessa stands,
-Our utmost frontier on the Pylian lands:
-Not far the streams of famed Alphaeus flow:
-The stream they pass’d, and pitch’d their tents below.
-Pallas, descending in the shades of night,
-Alarms the Pylians and commands the fight.
-Each burns for fame, and swells with martial pride,
-Myself the foremost; but my sire denied;
-Fear’d for my youth, exposed to stern alarms;
-And stopp’d my chariot, and detain’d my arms.
-My sire denied in vain: on foot I fled
-Amidst our chariots; for the goddess led.
-
-“Along fair Arene’s delightful plain
-Soft Minyas rolls his waters to the main:
-There, horse and foot, the Pylian troops unite,
-And sheathed in arms, expect the dawning light.
-Thence, ere the sun advanced his noon-day flame,
-To great Alphaeus’ sacred source we came.
-There first to Jove our solemn rites were paid;
-An untamed heifer pleased the blue-eyed maid;
-A bull, Alphaeus; and a bull was slain
-To the blue monarch of the watery main.
-In arms we slept, beside the winding flood,
-While round the town the fierce Epeians stood.
-Soon as the sun, with all-revealing ray,
-Flamed in the front of Heaven, and gave the day.
-Bright scenes of arms, and works of war appear;
-The nations meet; there Pylos, Elis here.
-The first who fell, beneath my javelin bled;
-King Augias’ son, and spouse of Agamede:
-(She that all simples’ healing virtues knew,
-And every herb that drinks the morning dew:)
-I seized his car, the van of battle led;
-The Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled.
-The foe dispersed, their bravest warrior kill’d,
-Fierce as the whirlwind now I swept the field:
-Full fifty captive chariots graced my train;
-Two chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain.
-Then Actor’s sons had died, but Neptune shrouds
-The youthful heroes in a veil of clouds.
-O’er heapy shields, and o’er the prostrate throng,
-Collecting spoils, and slaughtering all along,
-Through wide Buprasian fields we forced the foes,
-Where o’er the vales the Olenian rocks arose;
-Till Pallas stopp’d us where Alisium flows.
-Even there the hindmost of the rear I slay,
-And the same arm that led concludes the day;
-Then back to Pyle triumphant take my way.
-There to high Jove were public thanks assign’d,
-As first of gods; to Nestor, of mankind.
-Such then I was, impell’d by youthful blood;
-So proved my valour for my country’s good.
-
-“Achilles with unactive fury glows,
-And gives to passion what to Greece he owes.
-How shall he grieve, when to the eternal shade
-Her hosts shall sink, nor his the power to aid!
-O friend! my memory recalls the day,
-When, gathering aids along the Grecian sea,
-I, and Ulysses, touch’d at Phthia’s port,
-And entered Peleus’ hospitable court.
-A bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice,
-And pour’d libations on the flaming thighs.
-Thyself, Achilles, and thy reverend sire
-Menoetius, turn’d the fragments on the fire.
-Achilles sees us, to the feast invites;
-Social we sit, and share the genial rites.
-We then explained the cause on which we came,
-Urged you to arms, and found you fierce for fame.
-Your ancient fathers generous precepts gave;
-Peleus said only this:—‘My son! be brave.’
-Menoetius thus: ‘Though great Achilles shine
-In strength superior, and of race divine,
-Yet cooler thoughts thy elder years attend;
-Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend.’
-Thus spoke your father at Thessalia’s court:
-Words now forgot, though now of vast import.
-Ah! try the utmost that a friend can say:
-Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey;
-Some favouring god Achilles’ heart may move;
-Though deaf to glory, he may yield to love.
-If some dire oracle his breast alarm,
-If aught from Heaven withhold his saving arm,
-Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine,
-If thou but lead the Myrmidonian line;
-Clad in Achilles’ arms, if thou appear,
-Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from war;
-Press’d by fresh forces, her o’er-labour’d train
-Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again.”
-
-This touch’d his generous heart, and from the tent
-Along the shore with hasty strides he went;
-Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand,
-The public mart and courts of justice stand,
-Where the tall fleet of great Ulysses lies,
-And altars to the guardian gods arise;
-There, sad, he met the brave Euaemon’s son,
-Large painful drops from all his members run;
-An arrow’s head yet rooted in his wound,
-The sable blood in circles mark’d the ground.
-As faintly reeling he confess’d the smart,
-Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart.
-Divine compassion touch’d Patroclus’ breast,
-Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend address’d:
-
-“Ah, hapless leaders of the Grecian host!
-Thus must ye perish on a barbarous coast?
-Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore,
-Far from your friends, and from your native shore?
-Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand?
-Resists she yet the raging Hector’s hand?
-Or are her heroes doom’d to die with shame,
-And this the period of our wars and fame?”
-
-Eurypylus replies: “No more, my friend;
-Greece is no more! this day her glories end;
-Even to the ships victorious Troy pursues,
-Her force increasing as her toil renews.
-Those chiefs, that used her utmost rage to meet,
-Lie pierced with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet.
-But, thou, Patroclus! act a friendly part,
-Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly dart;
-With lukewarm water wash the gore away;
-With healing balms the raging smart allay,
-Such as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy,
-Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.
-Of two famed surgeons, Podalirius stands
-This hour surrounded by the Trojan bands;
-And great Machaon, wounded in his tent,
-Now wants that succour which so oft he lent.”
-
-To him the chief: “What then remains to do?
-The event of things the gods alone can view.
-Charged by Achilles’ great command I fly,
-And bear with haste the Pylian king’s reply:
-But thy distress this instant claims relief.”
-He said, and in his arms upheld the chief.
-The slaves their master’s slow approach survey’d,
-And hides of oxen on the floor display’d:
-There stretch’d at length the wounded hero lay;
-Patroclus cut the forky steel away:
-Then in his hands a bitter root he bruised;
-The wound he wash’d, the styptic juice infused.
-The closing flesh that instant ceased to glow,
-The wound to torture, and the blood to flow.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HERCULES
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE BATTLE AT THE GRECIAN WALL.
-
-
-The Greeks having retired into their intrenchments, Hector attempts to
-force them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas
-advises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The
-Trojans follow his counsel; and having divided their army into five
-bodies of foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of an eagle with
-a serpent in his talons, which appeared on the left hand of the
-Trojans, Polydamas endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector
-opposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many actions,
-Sarpedon makes the first breach in the wall. Hector also, casting a
-stone of vast size, forces open one of the gates, and enters at the
-head of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their
-ships.
-
-
-While thus the hero’s pious cares attend
-The cure and safety of his wounded friend,
-Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engage,
-And mutual deaths are dealt with mutual rage.
-Nor long the trench or lofty walls oppose;
-With gods averse the ill-fated works arose;
-Their powers neglected, and no victim slain,
-The walls were raised, the trenches sunk in vain.
-
-Without the gods, how short a period stands
-The proudest monument of mortal hands!
-This stood while Hector and Achilles raged,
-While sacred Troy the warring hosts engaged;
-But when her sons were slain, her city burn’d,
-And what survived of Greece to Greece return’d;
-Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore,
-Then Ida’s summits pour’d their watery store;
-Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their rills,
-Caresus roaring down the stony hills,
-Æsepus, Granicus, with mingled force,
-And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful source;
-And gulfy Simois, rolling to the main[224]
-Helmets, and shields, and godlike heroes slain:
-These, turn’d by Phœbus from their wonted ways,
-Deluged the rampire nine continual days;
-The weight of waters saps the yielding wall,
-And to the sea the floating bulwarks fall.
-Incessant cataracts the Thunderer pours,
-And half the skies descend in sluicy showers.
-The god of ocean, marching stern before,
-With his huge trident wounds the trembling shore,
-Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves,
-And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves.
-Now smooth’d with sand, and levell’d by the flood,
-No fragment tells where once the wonder stood;
-In their old bounds the rivers roll again,
-Shine ’twixt the hills, or wander o’er the plain.[225]
-
-But this the gods in later times perform;
-As yet the bulwark stood, and braved the storm;
-The strokes yet echoed of contending powers;
-War thunder’d at the gates, and blood distain’d the towers.
-Smote by the arm of Jove with dire dismay,
-Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay:
-Hector’s approach in every wind they hear,
-And Hector’s fury every moment fear.
-He, like a whirlwind, toss’d the scattering throng,
-Mingled the troops, and drove the field along.
-So ’midst the dogs and hunters’ daring bands,
-Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands;
-Arm’d foes around a dreadful circle form,
-And hissing javelins rain an iron storm:
-His powers untamed, their bold assault defy,
-And where he turns the rout disperse or die:
-He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all,
-And if he falls, his courage makes him fall.
-With equal rage encompass’d Hector glows;
-Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows.
-The panting steeds impatient fury breathe,
-And snort and tremble at the gulf beneath;
-Just at the brink they neigh, and paw the ground,
-And the turf trembles, and the skies resound.
-Eager they view’d the prospect dark and deep,
-Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep;
-The bottom bare, (a formidable show!)
-And bristled thick with sharpen’d stakes below.
-The foot alone this strong defence could force,
-And try the pass impervious to the horse.
-This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave,
-Restrain’d great Hector, and this counsel gave:
-
-“O thou, bold leader of the Trojan bands!
-And you, confederate chiefs from foreign lands!
-What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find,
-The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind?
-No pass through those, without a thousand wounds,
-No space for combat in yon narrow bounds.
-Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown,
-On certain dangers we too rashly run:
-If ’tis his will our haughty foes to tame,
-Oh may this instant end the Grecian name!
-Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall,
-And one great day destroy and bury all!
-But should they turn, and here oppress our train,
-What hopes, what methods of retreat remain?
-Wedged in the trench, by our own troops confused,
-In one promiscuous carnage crush’d and bruised,
-All Troy must perish, if their arms prevail,
-Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale.
-Hear then, ye warriors! and obey with speed;
-Back from the trenches let your steeds be led;
-Then all alighting, wedged in firm array,
-Proceed on foot, and Hector lead the way.
-So Greece shall stoop before our conquering power,
-And this (if Jove consent) her fatal hour.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] POLYDAMAS ADVISING HECTOR
-
-
-This counsel pleased: the godlike Hector sprung
-Swift from his seat; his clanging armour rung.
-The chief’s example follow’d by his train,
-Each quits his car, and issues on the plain,
-By orders strict the charioteers enjoin’d
-Compel the coursers to their ranks behind.
-The forces part in five distinguish’d bands,
-And all obey their several chiefs’ commands.
-The best and bravest in the first conspire,
-Pant for the fight, and threat the fleet with fire:
-Great Hector glorious in the van of these,
-Polydamas, and brave Cebriones.
-Before the next the graceful Paris shines,
-And bold Alcathous, and Agenor joins.
-The sons of Priam with the third appear,
-Deiphobus, and Helenas the seer;
-In arms with these the mighty Asius stood,
-Who drew from Hyrtacus his noble blood,
-And whom Arisba’s yellow coursers bore,
-The coursers fed on Sellè’s winding shore.
-Antenor’s sons the fourth battalion guide,
-And great Æneas, born on fountful Ide.
-Divine Sarpedon the last band obey’d,
-Whom Glaucus and Asteropaeus aid.
-Next him, the bravest, at their army’s head,
-But he more brave than all the hosts he led.
-
-Now with compacted shields in close array,
-The moving legions speed their headlong way:
-Already in their hopes they fire the fleet,
-And see the Grecians gasping at their feet.
-
-While every Trojan thus, and every aid,
-The advice of wise Polydamas obey’d,
-Asius alone, confiding in his car,
-His vaunted coursers urged to meet the war.
-Unhappy hero! and advised in vain;
-Those wheels returning ne’er shall mark the plain;
-No more those coursers with triumphant joy
-Restore their master to the gates of Troy!
-Black death attends behind the Grecian wall,
-And great Idomeneus shall boast thy fall!
-Fierce to the left he drives, where from the plain
-The flying Grecians strove their ships to gain;
-Swift through the wall their horse and chariots pass’d,
-The gates half-open’d to receive the last.
-Thither, exulting in his force, he flies:
-His following host with clamours rend the skies:
-To plunge the Grecians headlong in the main,
-Such their proud hopes; but all their hopes were vain!
-
-To guard the gates, two mighty chiefs attend,
-Who from the Lapiths’ warlike race descend;
-This Polypœtes, great Perithous’ heir,
-And that Leonteus, like the god of war.
-As two tall oaks, before the wall they rise;
-Their roots in earth, their heads amidst the skies:
-Whose spreading arms with leafy honours crown’d,
-Forbid the tempest, and protect the ground;
-High on the hills appears their stately form,
-And their deep roots for ever brave the storm.
-So graceful these, and so the shock they stand
-Of raging Asius, and his furious band.
-Orestes, Acamas, in front appear,
-And Œnomaus and Thoon close the rear:
-In vain their clamours shake the ambient fields,
-In vain around them beat their hollow shields;
-The fearless brothers on the Grecians call,
-To guard their navies, and defend the wall.
-Even when they saw Troy’s sable troops impend,
-And Greece tumultuous from her towers descend,
-Forth from the portals rush’d the intrepid pair,
-Opposed their breasts, and stood themselves the war.
-So two wild boars spring furious from their den,
-Roused with the cries of dogs and voice of men;
-On every side the crackling trees they tear,
-And root the shrubs, and lay the forest bare;
-They gnash their tusks, with fire their eye-balls roll,
-Till some wide wound lets out their mighty soul.
-Around their heads the whistling javelins sung,
-With sounding strokes their brazen targets rung;
-Fierce was the fight, while yet the Grecian powers
-Maintain’d the walls, and mann’d the lofty towers:
-To save their fleet their last efforts they try,
-And stones and darts in mingled tempests fly.
-
-As when sharp Boreas blows abroad, and brings
-The dreary winter on his frozen wings;
-Beneath the low-hung clouds the sheets of snow
-Descend, and whiten all the fields below:
-So fast the darts on either army pour,
-So down the rampires rolls the rocky shower:
-Heavy, and thick, resound the batter’d shields,
-And the deaf echo rattles round the fields.
-
-With shame repulsed, with grief and fury driven,
-The frantic Asius thus accuses Heaven:
-“In powers immortal who shall now believe?
-Can those too flatter, and can Jove deceive?
-What man could doubt but Troy’s victorious power
-Should humble Greece, and this her fatal hour?
-But like when wasps from hollow crannies drive,
-To guard the entrance of their common hive,
-Darkening the rock, while with unwearied wings
-They strike the assailants, and infix their stings;
-A race determined, that to death contend:
-So fierce these Greeks their last retreats defend.
-Gods! shall two warriors only guard their gates,
-Repel an army, and defraud the fates?”
-
-These empty accents mingled with the wind,
-Nor moved great Jove’s unalterable mind;
-To godlike Hector and his matchless might
-Was owed the glory of the destined fight.
-Like deeds of arms through all the forts were tried,
-And all the gates sustain’d an equal tide;
-Through the long walls the stony showers were heard,
-The blaze of flames, the flash of arms appear’d.
-The spirit of a god my breast inspire,
-To raise each act to life, and sing with fire!
-While Greece unconquer’d kept alive the war,
-Secure of death, confiding in despair;
-And all her guardian gods, in deep dismay,
-With unassisting arms deplored the day.
-
-Even yet the dauntless Lapithae maintain
-The dreadful pass, and round them heap the slain.
-First Damasus, by Polypœtes’ steel,
-Pierced through his helmet’s brazen visor, fell;
-The weapon drank the mingled brains and gore!
-The warrior sinks, tremendous now no more!
-Next Ormenus and Pylon yield their breath:
-Nor less Leonteus strews the field with death;
-First through the belt Hippomachus he gored,
-Then sudden waved his unresisted sword:
-Antiphates, as through the ranks he broke,
-The falchion struck, and fate pursued the stroke:
-Iamenus, Orestes, Menon, bled;
-And round him rose a monument of dead.
-Meantime, the bravest of the Trojan crew,
-Bold Hector and Polydamas, pursue;
-Fierce with impatience on the works to fall,
-And wrap in rolling flames the fleet and wall.
-These on the farther bank now stood and gazed,
-By Heaven alarm’d, by prodigies amazed:
-A signal omen stopp’d the passing host,
-Their martial fury in their wonder lost.
-Jove’s bird on sounding pinions beat the skies;
-A bleeding serpent of enormous size,
-His talons truss’d; alive, and curling round,
-He stung the bird, whose throat received the wound:
-Mad with the smart, he drops the fatal prey,
-In airy circles wings his painful way,
-Floats on the winds, and rends the heaven with cries:
-Amidst the host the fallen serpent lies.
-They, pale with terror, mark its spires unroll’d,
-And Jove’s portent with beating hearts behold.
-Then first Polydamas the silence broke,
-Long weigh’d the signal, and to Hector spoke:
-
-“How oft, my brother, thy reproach I bear,
-For words well meant, and sentiments sincere?
-True to those counsels which I judge the best,
-I tell the faithful dictates of my breast.
-To speak his thoughts is every freeman’s right,
-In peace, in war, in council, and in fight;
-And all I move, deferring to thy sway,
-But tends to raise that power which I obey.
-Then hear my words, nor may my words be vain!
-Seek not this day the Grecian ships to gain;
-For sure, to warn us, Jove his omen sent,
-And thus my mind explains its clear event:
-The victor eagle, whose sinister flight
-Retards our host, and fills our hearts with fright,
-Dismiss’d his conquest in the middle skies,
-Allow’d to seize, but not possess the prize;
-Thus, though we gird with fires the Grecian fleet,
-Though these proud bulwalks tumble at our feet,
-Toils unforeseen, and fiercer, are decreed;
-More woes shall follow, and more heroes bleed.
-So bodes my soul, and bids me thus advise;
-For thus a skilful seer would read the skies.”
-
-To him then Hector with disdain return’d:
-(Fierce as he spoke, his eyes with fury burn’d:)
-“Are these the faithful counsels of thy tongue?
-Thy will is partial, not thy reason wrong:
-Or if the purpose of thy heart thou vent,
-Sure heaven resumes the little sense it lent.
-What coward counsels would thy madness move
-Against the word, the will reveal’d of Jove?
-The leading sign, the irrevocable nod,
-And happy thunders of the favouring god,
-These shall I slight, and guide my wavering mind
-By wandering birds that flit with every wind?
-Ye vagrants of the sky! your wings extend,
-Or where the suns arise, or where descend;
-To right, to left, unheeded take your way,
-While I the dictates of high heaven obey.
-Without a sign his sword the brave man draws,
-And asks no omen but his country’s cause.
-But why should’st thou suspect the war’s success?
-None fears it more, as none promotes it less:
-Though all our chiefs amidst yon ships expire,
-Trust thy own cowardice to escape their fire.
-Troy and her sons may find a general grave,
-But thou canst live, for thou canst be a slave.
-Yet should the fears that wary mind suggests
-Spread their cold poison through our soldiers’ breasts,
-My javelin can revenge so base a part,
-And free the soul that quivers in thy heart.”
-
-Furious he spoke, and, rushing to the wall,
-Calls on his host; his host obey the call;
-With ardour follow where their leader flies:
-Redoubling clamours thunder in the skies.
-Jove breathes a whirlwind from the hills of Ide,
-And drifts of dust the clouded navy hide;
-He fills the Greeks with terror and dismay,
-And gives great Hector the predestined day.
-Strong in themselves, but stronger in his aid,
-Close to the works their rigid siege they laid.
-In vain the mounds and massy beams defend,
-While these they undermine, and those they rend;
-Upheaved the piles that prop the solid wall;
-And heaps on heaps the smoky ruins fall.
-Greece on her ramparts stands the fierce alarms;
-The crowded bulwarks blaze with waving arms,
-Shield touching shield, a long refulgent row;
-Whence hissing darts, incessant, rain below.
-The bold Ajaces fly from tower to tower,
-And rouse, with flame divine, the Grecian power.
-The generous impulse every Greek obeys;
-Threats urge the fearful; and the valiant, praise.
-
-“Fellows in arms! whose deeds are known to fame,
-And you, whose ardour hopes an equal name!
-Since not alike endued with force or art;
-Behold a day when each may act his part!
-A day to fire the brave, and warm the cold,
-To gain new glories, or augment the old.
-Urge those who stand, and those who faint, excite;
-Drown Hector’s vaunts in loud exhorts of fight;
-Conquest, not safety, fill the thoughts of all;
-Seek not your fleet, but sally from the wall;
-So Jove once more may drive their routed train,
-And Troy lie trembling in her walls again.”
-
-Their ardour kindles all the Grecian powers;
-And now the stones descend in heavier showers.
-As when high Jove his sharp artillery forms,
-And opes his cloudy magazine of storms;
-In winter’s bleak uncomfortable reign,
-A snowy inundation hides the plain;
-He stills the winds, and bids the skies to sleep;
-Then pours the silent tempest thick and deep;
-And first the mountain-tops are cover’d o’er,
-Then the green fields, and then the sandy shore;
-Bent with the weight, the nodding woods are seen,
-And one bright waste hides all the works of men:
-The circling seas, alone absorbing all,
-Drink the dissolving fleeces as they fall:
-So from each side increased the stony rain,
-And the white ruin rises o’er the plain.
-
-Thus godlike Hector and his troops contend
-To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend:
-Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield,
-Till great Sarpedon tower’d amid the field;
-For mighty Jove inspired with martial flame
-His matchless son, and urged him on to fame.
-In arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,
-And bears aloft his ample shield in air;
-Within whose orb the thick bull-hides were roll’d,
-Ponderous with brass, and bound with ductile gold:
-And while two pointed javelins arm his hands,
-Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands.
-
-So press’d with hunger, from the mountain’s brow
-Descends a lion on the flocks below;
-So stalks the lordly savage o’er the plain,
-In sullen majesty, and stern disdain:
-In vain loud mastiffs bay him from afar,
-And shepherds gall him with an iron war;
-Regardless, furious, he pursues his way;
-He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey.
-
-Resolved alike, divine Sarpedon glows
-With generous rage that drives him on the foes.
-He views the towers, and meditates their fall,
-To sure destruction dooms the aspiring wall;
-Then casting on his friend an ardent look,
-Fired with the thirst of glory, thus he spoke:
-
-“Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended reign,[226]
-Where Xanthus’ streams enrich the Lycian plain,
-Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field,
-And hills where vines their purple harvest yield,
-Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown’d,
-Our feasts enhanced with music’s sprightly sound?
-Why on those shores are we with joy survey’d,
-Admired as heroes, and as gods obey’d,
-Unless great acts superior merit prove,
-And vindicate the bounteous powers above?
-’Tis ours, the dignity they give to grace;
-The first in valour, as the first in place;
-That when with wondering eyes our martial bands
-Behold our deeds transcending our commands,
-Such, they may cry, deserve the sovereign state,
-Whom those that envy dare not imitate!
-Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
-Which claims no less the fearful and the brave,
-For lust of fame I should not vainly dare
-In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war.
-But since, alas! ignoble age must come,
-Disease, and death’s inexorable doom,
-The life, which others pay, let us bestow,
-And give to fame what we to nature owe;
-Brave though we fall, and honour’d if we live,
-Or let us glory gain, or glory give!”
-
-He said; his words the listening chief inspire
-With equal warmth, and rouse the warrior’s fire;
-The troops pursue their leaders with delight,
-Rush to the foe, and claim the promised fight.
-Menestheus from on high the storm beheld
-Threatening the fort, and blackening in the field:
-Around the walls he gazed, to view from far
-What aid appear’d to avert the approaching war,
-And saw where Teucer with the Ajaces stood,
-Of fight insatiate, prodigal of blood.
-In vain he calls; the din of helms and shields
-Rings to the skies, and echoes through the fields,
-The brazen hinges fly, the walls resound,
-Heaven trembles, roar the mountains, thunders all the ground.
-Then thus to Thoos: “Hence with speed (he said),
-And urge the bold Ajaces to our aid;
-Their strength, united, best may help to bear
-The bloody labours of the doubtful war:
-Hither the Lycian princes bend their course,
-The best and bravest of the hostile force.
-But if too fiercely there the foes contend,
-Let Telamon, at least, our towers defend,
-And Teucer haste with his unerring bow
-To share the danger, and repel the foe.”
-
-Swift, at the word, the herald speeds along
-The lofty ramparts, through the martial throng,
-And finds the heroes bathed in sweat and gore,
-Opposed in combat on the dusty shore.
-“Ye valiant leaders of our warlike bands!
-Your aid (said Thoos) Peteus’ son demands;
-Your strength, united, best may help to bear
-The bloody labours of the doubtful war:
-Thither the Lycian princes bend their course,
-The best and bravest of the hostile force.
-But if too fiercely, here, the foes contend,
-At least, let Telamon those towers defend,
-And Teucer haste with his unerring bow
-To share the danger, and repel the foe.”
-
-Straight to the fort great Ajax turn’d his care,
-And thus bespoke his brothers of the war:
-“Now, valiant Lycomede! exert your might,
-And, brave Oïleus, prove your force in fight;
-To you I trust the fortune of the field,
-Till by this arm the foe shall be repell’d:
-That done, expect me to complete the day.
-Then with his sevenfold shield he strode away.”
-With equal steps bold Teucer press’d the shore,
-Whose fatal bow the strong Pandion bore.
-
-High on the walls appear’d the Lycian powers,
-Like some black tempest gathering round the towers:
-The Greeks, oppress’d, their utmost force unite,
-Prepared to labour in the unequal fight:
-The war renews, mix’d shouts and groans arise;
-Tumultuous clamour mounts, and thickens in the skies.
-Fierce Ajax first the advancing host invades,
-And sends the brave Epicles to the shades,
-Sarpedon’s friend. Across the warrior’s way,
-Rent from the walls, a rocky fragment lay;
-In modern ages not the strongest swain
-Could heave the unwieldy burden from the plain:
-He poised, and swung it round; then toss’d on high,
-It flew with force, and labour’d up the sky;
-Full on the Lycian’s helmet thundering down,
-The ponderous ruin crush’d his batter’d crown.
-As skilful divers from some airy steep
-Headlong descend, and shoot into the deep,
-So falls Epicles; then in groans expires,
-And murmuring to the shades the soul retires.
-
-While to the ramparts daring Glaucus drew,
-From Teucer’s hand a winged arrow flew;
-The bearded shaft the destined passage found,
-And on his naked arm inflicts a wound.
-The chief, who fear’d some foe’s insulting boast
-Might stop the progress of his warlike host,
-Conceal’d the wound, and, leaping from his height
-Retired reluctant from the unfinish’d fight.
-Divine Sarpedon with regret beheld
-Disabled Glaucus slowly quit the field;
-His beating breast with generous ardour glows,
-He springs to fight, and flies upon the foes.
-Alcmaon first was doom’d his force to feel;
-Deep in his breast he plunged the pointed steel;
-Then from the yawning wound with fury tore
-The spear, pursued by gushing streams of gore:
-Down sinks the warrior with a thundering sound,
-His brazen armour rings against the ground.
-
-Swift to the battlement the victor flies,
-Tugs with full force, and every nerve applies:
-It shakes; the ponderous stones disjointed yield;
-The rolling ruins smoke along the field.
-A mighty breach appears; the walls lie bare;
-And, like a deluge, rushes in the war.
-At once bold Teucer draws the twanging bow,
-And Ajax sends his javelin at the foe;
-Fix’d in his belt the feather’d weapon stood,
-And through his buckler drove the trembling wood;
-But Jove was present in the dire debate,
-To shield his offspring, and avert his fate.
-The prince gave back, not meditating flight,
-But urging vengeance, and severer fight;
-Then raised with hope, and fired with glory’s charms,
-His fainting squadrons to new fury warms.
-“O where, ye Lycians, is the strength you boast?
-Your former fame and ancient virtue lost!
-The breach lies open, but your chief in vain
-Attempts alone the guarded pass to gain:
-Unite, and soon that hostile fleet shall fall:
-The force of powerful union conquers all.”
-
-This just rebuke inflamed the Lycian crew;
-They join, they thicken, and the assault renew:
-Unmoved the embodied Greeks their fury dare,
-And fix’d support the weight of all the war;
-Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers,
-Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers.
-As on the confines of adjoining grounds,
-Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their bounds;
-They tug, they sweat; but neither gain, nor yield,
-One foot, one inch, of the contended field;
-Thus obstinate to death, they fight, they fall;
-Nor these can keep, nor those can win the wall.
-Their manly breasts are pierced with many a wound,
-Loud strokes are heard, and rattling arms resound;
-The copious slaughter covers all the shore,
-And the high ramparts drip with human gore.
-
-As when two scales are charged with doubtful loads,
-From side to side the trembling balance nods,
-(While some laborious matron, just and poor,
-With nice exactness weighs her woolly store,)
-Till poised aloft, the resting beam suspends
-Each equal weight; nor this, nor that, descends:[227]
-So stood the war, till Hector’s matchless might,
-With fates prevailing, turn’d the scale of fight.
-Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he flies,
-And fires his host with loud repeated cries.
-“Advance, ye Trojans! lend your valiant hands,
-Haste to the fleet, and toss the blazing brands!”
-They hear, they run; and, gathering at his call,
-Raise scaling engines, and ascend the wall:
-Around the works a wood of glittering spears
-Shoots up, and all the rising host appears.
-A ponderous stone bold Hector heaved to throw,
-Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
-Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,
-Such men as live in these degenerate days:
-Yet this, as easy as a swain could bear
-The snowy fleece, he toss’d, and shook in air;
-For Jove upheld, and lighten’d of its load
-The unwieldy rock, the labour of a god.
-Thus arm’d, before the folded gates he came,
-Of massy substance, and stupendous frame;
-With iron bars and brazen hinges strong,
-On lofty beams of solid timber hung:
-Then thundering through the planks with forceful sway,
-Drives the sharp rock; the solid beams give way,
-The folds are shatter’d; from the crackling door
-Leap the resounding bars, the flying hinges roar.
-Now rushing in, the furious chief appears,
-Gloomy as night![228] and shakes two shining spears:
-A dreadful gleam from his bright armour came,
-And from his eye-balls flash’d the living flame.
-He moves a god, resistless in his course,
-And seems a match for more than mortal force.
-Then pouring after, through the gaping space,
-A tide of Trojans flows, and fills the place;
-The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly;
-The shore is heap’d with death, and tumult rends the sky.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] GREEK ALTAR
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XIII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE FOURTH BATTLE CONTINUED, IN WHICH NEPTUNE ASSISTS THE GREEKS: THE
-ACTS OF IDOMENEUS.
-
-
-Neptune, concerned for the loss of the Grecians, upon seeing the
-fortification forced by Hector, (who had entered the gate near the
-station of the Ajaces,) assumes the shape of Calchas, and inspires
-those heroes to oppose him: then, in the form of one of the generals,
-encourages the other Greeks who had retired to their vessels. The
-Ajaces form their troops in a close phalanx, and put a stop to Hector
-and the Trojans. Several deeds of valour are performed; Meriones,
-losing his spear in the encounter, repairs to seek another at the tent
-of Idomeneus: this occasions a conversation between those two warriors,
-who return together to the battle. Idomeneus signalizes his courage
-above the rest; he kills Othryoneus, Asius, and Alcathous: Deiphobus
-and Æneas march against him, and at length Idomeneus retires. Menelaus
-wounds Helenus, and kills Pisander. The Trojans are repulsed on the
-left wing; Hector still keeps his ground against the Ajaces, till,
-being galled by the Locrian slingers and archers, Polydamas advises to
-call a council of war: Hector approves of his advice, but goes first to
-rally the Trojans; upbraids Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again,
-and renews the attack.
-    The eight-and-twentieth day still continues. The scene is between
-    the Grecian wall and the sea-shore.
-
-
-When now the Thunderer on the sea-beat coast
-Had fix’d great Hector and his conquering host,
-He left them to the fates, in bloody fray
-To toil and struggle through the well-fought day.
-Then turn’d to Thracia from the field of fight
-Those eyes that shed insufferable light,
-To where the Mysians prove their martial force,
-And hardy Thracians tame the savage horse;
-And where the far-famed Hippomolgian strays,
-Renown’d for justice and for length of days;[229]
-Thrice happy race! that, innocent of blood,
-From milk, innoxious, seek their simple food:
-Jove sees delighted; and avoids the scene
-Of guilty Troy, of arms, and dying men:
-No aid, he deems, to either host is given,
-While his high law suspends the powers of Heaven.
-
-Meantime the monarch of the watery main
-Observed the Thunderer, nor observed in vain.
-In Samothracia, on a mountain’s brow,
-Whose waving woods o’erhung the deeps below,
-He sat; and round him cast his azure eyes
-Where Ida’s misty tops confusedly rise;
-Below, fair Ilion’s glittering spires were seen;
-The crowded ships and sable seas between.
-There, from the crystal chambers of the main
-Emerged, he sat, and mourn’d his Argives slain.
-At Jove incensed, with grief and fury stung,
-Prone down the rocky steep he rush’d along;
-Fierce as he pass’d, the lofty mountains nod,
-The forest shakes; earth trembled as he trod,
-And felt the footsteps of the immortal god.
-From realm to realm three ample strides he took,
-And, at the fourth, the distant Ægae shook.
-
-Far in the bay his shining palace stands,
-Eternal frame! not raised by mortal hands:
-This having reach’d, his brass-hoof’d steeds he reins,
-Fleet as the winds, and deck’d with golden manes.
-Refulgent arms his mighty limbs infold,
-Immortal arms of adamant and gold.
-He mounts the car, the golden scourge applies,
-He sits superior, and the chariot flies:
-His whirling wheels the glassy surface sweep;
-The enormous monsters rolling o’er the deep
-Gambol around him on the watery way,
-And heavy whales in awkward measures play;
-The sea subsiding spreads a level plain,
-Exults, and owns the monarch of the main;
-The parting waves before his coursers fly;
-The wondering waters leave his axle dry.
-
-Deep in the liquid regions lies a cave,
-Between where Tenedos the surges lave,
-And rocky Imbrus breaks the rolling wave:
-There the great ruler of the azure round
-Stopp’d his swift chariot, and his steeds unbound,
-Fed with ambrosial herbage from his hand,
-And link’d their fetlocks with a golden band,
-Infrangible, immortal: there they stay:
-The father of the floods pursues his way:
-Where, like a tempest, darkening heaven around,
-Or fiery deluge that devours the ground,
-The impatient Trojans, in a gloomy throng,
-Embattled roll’d, as Hector rush’d along:
-To the loud tumult and the barbarous cry
-The heavens re-echo, and the shores reply:
-They vow destruction to the Grecian name,
-And in their hopes the fleets already flame.
-
-But Neptune, rising from the seas profound,
-The god whose earthquakes rock the solid ground,
-Now wears a mortal form; like Calchas seen,
-Such his loud voice, and such his manly mien;
-His shouts incessant every Greek inspire,
-But most the Ajaces, adding fire to fire.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] NEPTUNE RISING FROM THE SEA
-
-
-“’Tis yours, O warriors, all our hopes to raise:
-Oh recollect your ancient worth and praise!
-’Tis yours to save us, if you cease to fear;
-Flight, more than shameful, is destructive here.
-On other works though Troy with fury fall,
-And pour her armies o’er our batter’d wall:
-There Greece has strength: but this, this part o’erthrown,
-Her strength were vain; I dread for you alone:
-Here Hector rages like the force of fire,
-Vaunts of his gods, and calls high Jove his sire:
-If yet some heavenly power your breast excite,
-Breathe in your hearts, and string your arms to fight,
-Greece yet may live, her threaten’d fleet maintain:
-And Hector’s force, and Jove’s own aid, be vain.”
-
-Then with his sceptre, that the deep controls,
-He touch’d the chiefs, and steel’d their manly souls:
-Strength, not their own, the touch divine imparts,
-Prompts their light limbs, and swells their daring hearts.
-Then, as a falcon from the rocky height,
-Her quarry seen, impetuous at the sight,
-Forth-springing instant, darts herself from high,
-Shoots on the wing, and skims along the sky:
-Such, and so swift, the power of ocean flew;
-The wide horizon shut him from their view.
-
-The inspiring god Oïleus’ active son
-Perceived the first, and thus to Telamon:
-
-“Some god, my friend, some god in human form
-Favouring descends, and wills to stand the storm.
-Not Calchas this, the venerable seer;
-Short as he turned, I saw the power appear:
-I mark’d his parting, and the steps he trod;
-His own bright evidence reveals a god.
-Even now some energy divine I share,
-And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air!”
-
-“With equal ardour (Telamon returns)
-My soul is kindled, and my bosom burns;
-New rising spirits all my force alarm,
-Lift each impatient limb, and brace my arm.
-This ready arm, unthinking, shakes the dart;
-The blood pours back, and fortifies my heart:
-Singly, methinks, yon towering chief I meet,
-And stretch the dreadful Hector at my feet.”
-
-Full of the god that urged their burning breast,
-The heroes thus their mutual warmth express’d.
-Neptune meanwhile the routed Greeks inspired;
-Who, breathless, pale, with length of labours tired,
-Pant in the ships; while Troy to conquest calls,
-And swarms victorious o’er their yielding walls:
-Trembling before the impending storm they lie,
-While tears of rage stand burning in their eye.
-Greece sunk they thought, and this their fatal hour;
-But breathe new courage as they feel the power.
-Teucer and Leitus first his words excite;
-Then stern Peneleus rises to the fight;
-Thoas, Deipyrus, in arms renown’d,
-And Merion next, the impulsive fury found;
-Last Nestor’s son the same bold ardour takes,
-While thus the god the martial fire awakes:
-
-“Oh lasting infamy, oh dire disgrace
-To chiefs of vigorous youth, and manly race!
-I trusted in the gods, and you, to see
-Brave Greece victorious, and her navy free:
-Ah, no—the glorious combat you disclaim,
-And one black day clouds all her former fame.
-Heavens! what a prodigy these eyes survey,
-Unseen, unthought, till this amazing day!
-Fly we at length from Troy’s oft-conquer’d bands?
-And falls our fleet by such inglorious hands?
-A rout undisciplined, a straggling train,
-Not born to glories of the dusty plain;
-Like frighted fawns from hill to hill pursued,
-A prey to every savage of the wood:
-Shall these, so late who trembled at your name,
-Invade your camps, involve your ships in flame?
-A change so shameful, say, what cause has wrought?
-The soldiers’ baseness, or the general’s fault?
-Fools! will ye perish for your leader’s vice;
-The purchase infamy, and life the price?
-’Tis not your cause, Achilles’ injured fame:
-Another’s is the crime, but yours the shame.
-Grant that our chief offend through rage or lust,
-Must you be cowards, if your king’s unjust?
-Prevent this evil, and your country save:
-Small thought retrieves the spirits of the brave.
-Think, and subdue! on dastards dead to fame
-I waste no anger, for they feel no shame:
-But you, the pride, the flower of all our host,
-My heart weeps blood to see your glory lost!
-Nor deem this day, this battle, all you lose;
-A day more black, a fate more vile, ensues.
-Let each reflect, who prizes fame or breath,
-On endless infamy, on instant death:
-For, lo! the fated time, the appointed shore:
-Hark! the gates burst, the brazen barriers roar!
-Impetuous Hector thunders at the wall;
-The hour, the spot, to conquer, or to fall.”
-
-These words the Grecians’ fainting hearts inspire,
-And listening armies catch the godlike fire.
-Fix’d at his post was each bold Ajax found,
-With well-ranged squadrons strongly circled round:
-So close their order, so disposed their fight,
-As Pallas’ self might view with fix’d delight;
-Or had the god of war inclined his eyes,
-The god of war had own’d a just surprise.
-A chosen phalanx, firm, resolved as fate,
-Descending Hector and his battle wait.
-An iron scene gleams dreadful o’er the fields,
-Armour in armour lock’d, and shields in shields,
-Spears lean on spears, on targets targets throng,
-Helms stuck to helms, and man drove man along.
-The floating plumes unnumber’d wave above,
-As when an earthquake stirs the nodding grove;
-And levell’d at the skies with pointing rays,
-Their brandish’d lances at each motion blaze.
-
-Thus breathing death, in terrible array,
-The close compacted legions urged their way:
-Fierce they drove on, impatient to destroy;
-Troy charged the first, and Hector first of Troy.
-As from some mountain’s craggy forehead torn,
-A rock’s round fragment flies, with fury borne,
-(Which from the stubborn stone a torrent rends,)
-Precipitate the ponderous mass descends:
-From steep to steep the rolling ruin bounds;
-At every shock the crackling wood resounds;
-Still gathering force, it smokes; and urged amain,
-Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the plain:
-There stops—so Hector. Their whole force he proved,[230]
-Resistless when he raged, and, when he stopp’d, unmoved.
-
-On him the war is bent, the darts are shed,
-And all their falchions wave around his head:
-Repulsed he stands, nor from his stand retires;
-But with repeated shouts his army fires.
-“Trojans! be firm; this arm shall make your way
-Through yon square body, and that black array:
-Stand, and my spear shall rout their scattering power,
-Strong as they seem, embattled like a tower;
-For he that Juno’s heavenly bosom warms,
-The first of gods, this day inspires our arms.”
-
-He said; and roused the soul in every breast:
-Urged with desire of fame, beyond the rest,
-Forth march’d Deiphobus; but, marching, held
-Before his wary steps his ample shield.
-Bold Merion aim’d a stroke (nor aim’d it wide);
-The glittering javelin pierced the tough bull-hide;
-But pierced not through: unfaithful to his hand,
-The point broke short, and sparkled in the sand.
-The Trojan warrior, touch’d with timely fear,
-On the raised orb to distance bore the spear.
-The Greek, retreating, mourn’d his frustrate blow,
-And cursed the treacherous lance that spared a foe;
-Then to the ships with surly speed he went,
-To seek a surer javelin in his tent.
-
-Meanwhile with rising rage the battle glows,
-The tumult thickens, and the clamour grows.
-By Teucer’s arm the warlike Imbrius bleeds,
-The son of Mentor, rich in generous steeds.
-Ere yet to Troy the sons of Greece were led,
-In fair Pedaeus’ verdant pastures bred,
-The youth had dwelt, remote from war’s alarms,
-And blest in bright Medesicaste’s arms:
-(This nymph, the fruit of Priam’s ravish’d joy,
-Allied the warrior to the house of Troy:)
-To Troy, when glory call’d his arms, he came,
-And match’d the bravest of her chiefs in fame:
-With Priam’s sons, a guardian of the throne,
-He lived, beloved and honour’d as his own.
-Him Teucer pierced between the throat and ear:
-He groans beneath the Telamonian spear.
-As from some far-seen mountain’s airy crown,
-Subdued by steel, a tall ash tumbles down,
-And soils its verdant tresses on the ground;
-So falls the youth; his arms the fall resound.
-Then Teucer rushing to despoil the dead,
-From Hector’s hand a shining javelin fled:
-He saw, and shunn’d the death; the forceful dart
-Sung on, and pierced Amphimachus’s heart,
-Cteatus’ son, of Neptune’s forceful line;
-Vain was his courage, and his race divine!
-Prostrate he falls; his clanging arms resound,
-And his broad buckler thunders on the ground.
-To seize his beamy helm the victor flies,
-And just had fastened on the dazzling prize,
-When Ajax’ manly arm a javelin flung;
-Full on the shield’s round boss the weapon rung;
-He felt the shock, nor more was doom’d to feel,
-Secure in mail, and sheath’d in shining steel.
-Repulsed he yields; the victor Greeks obtain
-The spoils contested, and bear off the slain.
-Between the leaders of the Athenian line,
-(Stichius the brave, Menestheus the divine,)
-Deplored Amphimachus, sad object! lies;
-Imbrius remains the fierce Ajaces’ prize.
-As two grim lions bear across the lawn,
-Snatch’d from devouring hounds, a slaughter’d fawn.
-In their fell jaws high-lifting through the wood,
-And sprinkling all the shrubs with drops of blood;
-So these, the chief: great Ajax from the dead
-Strips his bright arms; Oïleus lops his head:
-Toss’d like a ball, and whirl’d in air away,
-At Hector’s feet the gory visage lay.
-
-The god of ocean, fired with stern disdain,
-And pierced with sorrow for his grandson slain,
-Inspires the Grecian hearts, confirms their hands,
-And breathes destruction on the Trojan bands.
-Swift as a whirlwind rushing to the fleet,
-He finds the lance-famed Idomen of Crete,
-His pensive brow the generous care express’d
-With which a wounded soldier touch’d his breast,
-Whom in the chance of war a javelin tore,
-And his sad comrades from the battle bore;
-Him to the surgeons of the camp he sent:
-That office paid, he issued from his tent
-Fierce for the fight: to whom the god begun,
-In Thoas’ voice, Andræmon’s valiant son,
-Who ruled where Calydon’s white rocks arise,
-And Pleuron’s chalky cliffs emblaze the skies:
-
-“Where’s now the imperious vaunt, the daring boast,
-Of Greece victorious, and proud Ilion lost?”
-
-To whom the king: “On Greece no blame be thrown;
-Arms are her trade, and war is all her own.
-Her hardy heroes from the well-fought plains
-Nor fear withholds, nor shameful sloth detains:
-’Tis heaven, alas! and Jove’s all-powerful doom,
-That far, far distant from our native home
-Wills us to fall inglorious! Oh, my friend!
-Once foremost in the fight, still prone to lend
-Or arms or counsels, now perform thy best,
-And what thou canst not singly, urge the rest.”
-
-Thus he: and thus the god whose force can make
-The solid globe’s eternal basis shake:
-“Ah! never may he see his native land,
-But feed the vultures on this hateful strand,
-Who seeks ignobly in his ships to stay,
-Nor dares to combat on this signal day!
-For this, behold! in horrid arms I shine,
-And urge thy soul to rival acts with mine.
-Together let us battle on the plain;
-Two, not the worst; nor even this succour vain:
-Not vain the weakest, if their force unite;
-But ours, the bravest have confess’d in fight.”
-
-This said, he rushes where the combat burns;
-Swift to his tent the Cretan king returns:
-From thence, two javelins glittering in his hand,
-And clad in arms that lighten’d all the strand,
-Fierce on the foe the impetuous hero drove,
-Like lightning bursting from the arm of Jove,
-Which to pale man the wrath of heaven declares,
-Or terrifies the offending world with wars;
-In streamy sparkles, kindling all the skies,
-From pole to pole the trail of glory flies:
-Thus his bright armour o’er the dazzled throng
-Gleam’d dreadful, as the monarch flash’d along.
-
-Him, near his tent, Meriones attends;
-Whom thus he questions: “Ever best of friends!
-O say, in every art of battle skill’d,
-What holds thy courage from so brave a field?
-On some important message art thou bound,
-Or bleeds my friend by some unhappy wound?
-Inglorious here, my soul abhors to stay,
-And glows with prospects of th’ approaching day.”
-
-“O prince! (Meriones replies) whose care
-Leads forth the embattled sons of Crete to war;
-This speaks my grief: this headless lance I wield;
-The rest lies rooted in a Trojan shield.”
-
-To whom the Cretan: “Enter, and receive
-The wonted weapons; those my tent can give;
-Spears I have store, (and Trojan lances all,)
-That shed a lustre round the illumined wall,
-Though I, disdainful of the distant war,
-Nor trust the dart, nor aim the uncertain spear,
-Yet hand to hand I fight, and spoil the slain;
-And thence these trophies, and these arms I gain.
-Enter, and see on heaps the helmets roll’d,
-And high-hung spears, and shields that flame with gold.”
-
-“Nor vain (said Merion) are our martial toils;
-We too can boast of no ignoble spoils:
-But those my ship contains; whence distant far,
-I fight conspicuous in the van of war,
-What need I more? If any Greek there be
-Who knows not Merion, I appeal to thee.”
-
-To this, Idomeneus: “The fields of fight
-Have proved thy valour, and unconquer’d might:
-And were some ambush for the foes design’d,
-Even there thy courage would not lag behind:
-In that sharp service, singled from the rest,
-The fear of each, or valour, stands confess’d.
-No force, no firmness, the pale coward shows;
-He shifts his place: his colour comes and goes:
-A dropping sweat creeps cold on every part;
-Against his bosom beats his quivering heart;
-Terror and death in his wild eye-balls stare;
-With chattering teeth he stands, and stiffening hair,
-And looks a bloodless image of despair!
-Not so the brave—still dauntless, still the same,
-Unchanged his colour, and unmoved his frame:
-Composed his thought, determined is his eye,
-And fix’d his soul, to conquer or to die:
-If aught disturb the tenour of his breast,
-’Tis but the wish to strike before the rest.
-
-“In such assays thy blameless worth is known,
-And every art of dangerous war thy own.
-By chance of fight whatever wounds you bore,
-Those wounds were glorious all, and all before;
-Such as may teach, ’twas still thy brave delight
-T’oppose thy bosom where thy foremost fight.
-But why, like infants, cold to honour’s charms,
-Stand we to talk, when glory calls to arms?
-Go—from my conquer’d spears the choicest take,
-And to their owners send them nobly back.”
-
-Swift at the word bold Merion snatch’d a spear
-And, breathing slaughter, follow’d to the war.
-So Mars armipotent invades the plain,
-(The wide destroyer of the race of man,)
-Terror, his best-beloved son, attends his course,
-Arm’d with stern boldness, and enormous force;
-The pride of haughty warriors to confound,
-And lay the strength of tyrants on the ground:
-From Thrace they fly, call’d to the dire alarms
-Of warring Phlegyans, and Ephyrian arms;
-Invoked by both, relentless they dispose,
-To these glad conquest, murderous rout to those.
-So march’d the leaders of the Cretan train,
-And their bright arms shot horror o’er the plain.
-
-Then first spake Merion: “Shall we join the right,
-Or combat in the centre of the fight?
-Or to the left our wonted succour lend?
-Hazard and fame all parts alike attend.”
-
-“Not in the centre (Idomen replied:)
-Our ablest chieftains the main battle guide;
-Each godlike Ajax makes that post his care,
-And gallant Teucer deals destruction there,
-Skill’d or with shafts to gall the distant field,
-Or bear close battle on the sounding shield.
-These can the rage of haughty Hector tame:
-Safe in their arms, the navy fears no flame,
-Till Jove himself descends, his bolts to shed,
-And hurl the blazing ruin at our head.
-Great must he be, of more than human birth,
-Nor feed like mortals on the fruits of earth.
-Him neither rocks can crush, nor steel can wound,
-Whom Ajax fells not on the ensanguined ground.
-In standing fight he mates Achilles’ force,
-Excell’d alone in swiftness in the course.
-Then to the left our ready arms apply,
-And live with glory, or with glory die.”
-
-He said: and Merion to th’ appointed place,
-Fierce as the god of battles, urged his pace.
-Soon as the foe the shining chiefs beheld
-Rush like a fiery torrent o’er the field,
-Their force embodied in a tide they pour;
-The rising combat sounds along the shore.
-As warring winds, in Sirius’ sultry reign,
-From different quarters sweep the sandy plain;
-On every side the dusty whirlwinds rise,
-And the dry fields are lifted to the skies:
-Thus by despair, hope, rage, together driven,
-Met the black hosts, and, meeting, darken’d heaven.
-All dreadful glared the iron face of war,
-Bristled with upright spears, that flash’d afar;
-Dire was the gleam of breastplates, helms, and shields,
-And polish’d arms emblazed the flaming fields:
-Tremendous scene! that general horror gave,
-But touch’d with joy the bosoms of the brave.
-
-Saturn’s great sons in fierce contention vied,
-And crowds of heroes in their anger died.
-The sire of earth and heaven, by Thetis won
-To crown with glory Peleus’ godlike son,
-Will’d not destruction to the Grecian powers,
-But spared awhile the destined Trojan towers;
-While Neptune, rising from his azure main,
-Warr’d on the king of heaven with stern disdain,
-And breathed revenge, and fired the Grecian train.
-Gods of one source, of one ethereal race,
-Alike divine, and heaven their native place;
-But Jove the greater; first-born of the skies,
-And more than men, or gods, supremely wise.
-For this, of Jove’s superior might afraid,
-Neptune in human form conceal’d his aid.
-These powers enfold the Greek and Trojan train
-In war and discord’s adamantine chain,
-Indissolubly strong: the fatal tie
-Is stretch’d on both, and close compell’d they die.
-
-Dreadful in arms, and grown in combats grey,
-The bold Idomeneus controls the day.
-First by his hand Othryoneus was slain,
-Swell’d with false hopes, with mad ambition vain;
-Call’d by the voice of war to martial fame,
-From high Cabesus’ distant walls he came;
-Cassandra’s love he sought, with boasts of power,
-And promised conquest was the proffer’d dower.
-The king consented, by his vaunts abused;
-The king consented, but the fates refused.
-Proud of himself, and of the imagined bride,
-The field he measured with a larger stride.
-Him as he stalk’d, the Cretan javelin found;
-Vain was his breastplate to repel the wound:
-His dream of glory lost, he plunged to hell;
-His arms resounded as the boaster fell.
-The great Idomeneus bestrides the dead;
-“And thus (he cries) behold thy promise sped!
-Such is the help thy arms to Ilion bring,
-And such the contract of the Phrygian king!
-Our offers now, illustrious prince! receive;
-For such an aid what will not Argos give?
-To conquer Troy, with ours thy forces join,
-And count Atrides’ fairest daughter thine.
-Meantime, on further methods to advise,
-Come, follow to the fleet thy new allies;
-There hear what Greece has on her part to say.”
-He spoke, and dragg’d the gory corse away.
-This Asius view’d, unable to contain,
-Before his chariot warring on the plain:
-(His crowded coursers, to his squire consign’d,
-Impatient panted on his neck behind:)
-To vengeance rising with a sudden spring,
-He hoped the conquest of the Cretan king.
-The wary Cretan, as his foe drew near,
-Full on his throat discharged the forceful spear:
-Beneath the chin the point was seen to glide,
-And glitter’d, extant at the further side.
-As when the mountain-oak, or poplar tall,
-Or pine, fit mast for some great admiral,
-Groans to the oft-heaved axe, with many a wound,
-Then spreads a length of ruin o’er the ground:
-So sunk proud Asius in that dreadful day,
-And stretch’d before his much-loved coursers lay.
-He grinds the dust distain’d with streaming gore,
-And, fierce in death, lies foaming on the shore.
-Deprived of motion, stiff with stupid fear,
-Stands all aghast his trembling charioteer,
-Nor shuns the foe, nor turns the steeds away,
-But falls transfix’d, an unresisting prey:
-Pierced by Antilochus, he pants beneath
-The stately car, and labours out his breath.
-Thus Asius’ steeds (their mighty master gone)
-Remain the prize of Nestor’s youthful son.
-
-Stabb’d at the sight, Deiphobus drew nigh,
-And made, with force, the vengeful weapon fly.
-The Cretan saw; and, stooping, caused to glance
-From his slope shield the disappointed lance.
-Beneath the spacious targe, (a blazing round,
-Thick with bull-hides and brazen orbits bound,
-On his raised arm by two strong braces stay’d,)
-He lay collected in defensive shade.
-O’er his safe head the javelin idly sung,
-And on the tinkling verge more faintly rung.
-Even then the spear the vigorous arm confess’d,
-And pierced, obliquely, king Hypsenor’s breast:
-Warm’d in his liver, to the ground it bore
-The chief, his people’s guardian now no more!
-
-“Not unattended (the proud Trojan cries)
-Nor unrevenged, lamented Asius lies:
-For thee, through hell’s black portals stand display’d,
-This mate shall joy thy melancholy shade.”
-
-Heart-piercing anguish, at the haughty boast,
-Touch’d every Greek, but Nestor’s son the most.
-Grieved as he was, his pious arms attend,
-And his broad buckler shields his slaughter’d friend:
-Till sad Mecistheus and Alastor bore
-His honour’d body to the tented shore.
-
-Nor yet from fight Idomeneus withdraws;
-Resolved to perish in his country’s cause,
-Or find some foe, whom heaven and he shall doom
-To wail his fate in death’s eternal gloom.
-He sees Alcathous in the front aspire:
-Great Æsyetes was the hero’s sire;
-His spouse Hippodame, divinely fair,
-Anchises’ eldest hope, and darling care:
-Who charm’d her parents’ and her husband’s heart
-With beauty, sense, and every work of art:
-He once of Ilion’s youth the loveliest boy,
-The fairest she of all the fair of Troy.
-By Neptune now the hapless hero dies,
-Who covers with a cloud those beauteous eyes,
-And fetters every limb: yet bent to meet
-His fate he stands; nor shuns the lance of Crete.
-Fix’d as some column, or deep-rooted oak,
-While the winds sleep; his breast received the stroke.
-Before the ponderous stroke his corslet yields,
-Long used to ward the death in fighting fields.
-The riven armour sends a jarring sound;
-His labouring heart heaves with so strong a bound,
-The long lance shakes, and vibrates in the wound;
-Fast flowing from its source, as prone he lay,
-Life’s purple tide impetuous gush’d away.
-
-Then Idomen, insulting o’er the slain:
-“Behold, Deiphobus! nor vaunt in vain:
-See! on one Greek three Trojan ghosts attend;
-This, my third victim, to the shades I send.
-Approaching now thy boasted might approve,
-And try the prowess of the seed of Jove.
-From Jove, enamour’d of a mortal dame,
-Great Minos, guardian of his country, came:
-Deucalion, blameless prince, was Minos’ heir;
-His first-born I, the third from Jupiter:
-O’er spacious Crete, and her bold sons, I reign,
-And thence my ships transport me through the main:
-Lord of a host, o’er all my host I shine,
-A scourge to thee, thy father, and thy line.”
-
-The Trojan heard; uncertain or to meet,
-Alone, with venturous arms the king of Crete,
-Or seek auxiliar force; at length decreed
-To call some hero to partake the deed,
-Forthwith Æneas rises to his thought:
-For him in Troy’s remotest lines he sought,
-Where he, incensed at partial Priam, stands,
-And sees superior posts in meaner hands.
-To him, ambitious of so great an aid,
-The bold Deiphobus approach’d, and said:
-
-“Now, Trojan prince, employ thy pious arms,
-If e’er thy bosom felt fair honour’s charms.
-Alcathous dies, thy brother and thy friend;
-Come, and the warrior’s loved remains defend.
-Beneath his cares thy early youth was train’d,
-One table fed you, and one roof contain’d.
-This deed to fierce Idomeneus we owe;
-Haste, and revenge it on th’ insulting foe.”
-
-Æneas heard, and for a space resign’d
-To tender pity all his manly mind;
-Then rising in his rage, he burns to fight:
-The Greek awaits him with collected might.
-As the fell boar, on some rough mountain’s head,
-Arm’d with wild terrors, and to slaughter bred,
-When the loud rustics rise, and shout from far,
-Attends the tumult, and expects the war;
-O’er his bent back the bristly horrors rise;
-Fires stream in lightning from his sanguine eyes,
-His foaming tusks both dogs and men engage;
-But most his hunters rouse his mighty rage:
-So stood Idomeneus, his javelin shook,
-And met the Trojan with a lowering look.
-Antilochus, Deipyrus, were near,
-The youthful offspring of the god of war,
-Merion, and Aphareus, in field renown’d:
-To these the warrior sent his voice around.
-“Fellows in arms! your timely aid unite;
-Lo, great Æneas rushes to the fight:
-Sprung from a god, and more than mortal bold;
-He fresh in youth, and I in arms grown old.
-Else should this hand, this hour decide the strife,
-The great dispute, of glory, or of life.”
-
-He spoke, and all, as with one soul, obey’d;
-Their lifted bucklers cast a dreadful shade
-Around the chief. Æneas too demands
-Th’ assisting forces of his native bands;
-Paris, Deiphobus, Agenor, join;
-(Co-aids and captains of the Trojan line;)
-In order follow all th’ embodied train,
-Like Ida’s flocks proceeding o’er the plain;
-Before his fleecy care, erect and bold,
-Stalks the proud ram, the father of the bold.
-With joy the swain surveys them, as he leads
-To the cool fountains, through the well-known meads:
-So joys Æneas, as his native band
-Moves on in rank, and stretches o’er the land.
-
-Round dread Alcathous now the battle rose;
-On every side the steely circle grows;
-Now batter’d breast-plates and hack’d helmets ring,
-And o’er their heads unheeded javelins sing.
-Above the rest, two towering chiefs appear,
-There great Idomeneus, Æneas here.
-Like gods of war, dispensing fate, they stood,
-And burn’d to drench the ground with mutual blood.
-The Trojan weapon whizz’d along in air;
-The Cretan saw, and shunn’d the brazen spear:
-Sent from an arm so strong, the missive wood
-Stuck deep in earth, and quiver’d where it stood.
-But OEnomas received the Cretan’s stroke;
-The forceful spear his hollow corslet broke,
-It ripp’d his belly with a ghastly wound,
-And roll’d the smoking entrails on the ground.
-Stretch’d on the plain, he sobs away his breath,
-And, furious, grasps the bloody dust in death.
-The victor from his breast the weapon tears;
-His spoils he could not, for the shower of spears.
-Though now unfit an active war to wage,
-Heavy with cumbrous arms, stiff with cold age,
-His listless limbs unable for the course,
-In standing fight he yet maintains his force;
-Till faint with labour, and by foes repell’d,
-His tired slow steps he drags from off the field.
-Deiphobus beheld him as he pass’d,
-And, fired with hate, a parting javelin cast:
-The javelin err’d, but held its course along,
-And pierced Ascalaphus, the brave and young:
-The son of Mars fell gasping on the ground,
-And gnash’d the dust, all bloody with his wound.
-
-Nor knew the furious father of his fall;
-High-throned amidst the great Olympian hall,
-On golden clouds th’ immortal synod sate;
-Detain’d from bloody war by Jove and Fate.
-
-Now, where in dust the breathless hero lay,
-For slain Ascalaphus commenced the fray,
-Deiphobus to seize his helmet flies,
-And from his temples rends the glittering prize;
-Valiant as Mars, Meriones drew near,
-And on his loaded arm discharged his spear:
-He drops the weight, disabled with the pain;
-The hollow helmet rings against the plain.
-Swift as a vulture leaping on his prey,
-From his torn arm the Grecian rent away
-The reeking javelin, and rejoin’d his friends.
-His wounded brother good Polites tends;
-Around his waist his pious arms he threw,
-And from the rage of battle gently drew:
-Him his swift coursers, on his splendid car,
-Rapt from the lessening thunder of the war;
-To Troy they drove him, groaning from the shore,
-And sprinkling, as he pass’d, the sands with gore.
-
-Meanwhile fresh slaughter bathes the sanguine ground,
-Heaps fall on heaps, and heaven and earth resound.
-Bold Aphareus by great Æneas bled;
-As toward the chief he turn’d his daring head,
-He pierced his throat; the bending head, depress’d
-Beneath his helmet, nods upon his breast;
-His shield reversed o’er the fallen warrior lies,
-And everlasting slumber seals his eyes.
-Antilochus, as Thoon turn’d him round,
-Transpierced his back with a dishonest wound:
-The hollow vein, that to the neck extends
-Along the chine, his eager javelin rends:
-Supine he falls, and to his social train
-Spreads his imploring arms, but spreads in vain.
-Thv exulting victor, leaping where he lay,
-From his broad shoulders tore the spoils away;
-His time observed; for closed by foes around,
-On all sides thick the peals of arms resound.
-His shield emboss’d the ringing storm sustains,
-But he impervious and untouch’d remains.
-(Great Neptune’s care preserved from hostile rage
-This youth, the joy of Nestor’s glorious age.)
-In arms intrepid, with the first he fought,
-Faced every foe, and every danger sought;
-His winged lance, resistless as the wind,
-Obeys each motion of the master’s mind!
-Restless it flies, impatient to be free,
-And meditates the distant enemy.
-The son of Asius, Adamas, drew near,
-And struck his target with the brazen spear
-Fierce in his front: but Neptune wards the blow,
-And blunts the javelin of th’ eluded foe:
-In the broad buckler half the weapon stood,
-Splinter’d on earth flew half the broken wood.
-Disarm’d, he mingled in the Trojan crew;
-But Merion’s spear o’ertook him as he flew,
-Deep in the belly’s rim an entrance found,
-Where sharp the pang, and mortal is the wound.
-Bending he fell, and doubled to the ground,
-Lay panting. Thus an ox in fetters tied,
-While death’s strong pangs distend his labouring side,
-His bulk enormous on the field displays;
-His heaving heart beats thick as ebbing life decays.
-The spear the conqueror from his body drew,
-And death’s dim shadows swarm before his view.
-Next brave Deipyrus in dust was laid:
-King Helenus waved high the Thracian blade,
-And smote his temples with an arm so strong,
-The helm fell off, and roll’d amid the throng:
-There for some luckier Greek it rests a prize;
-For dark in death the godlike owner lies!
-Raging with grief, great Menelaus burns,
-And fraught with vengeance, to the victor turns:
-That shook the ponderous lance, in act to throw;
-And this stood adverse with the bended bow:
-Full on his breast the Trojan arrow fell,
-But harmless bounded from the plated steel.
-As on some ample barn’s well harden’d floor,
-(The winds collected at each open door,)
-While the broad fan with force is whirl’d around,
-Light leaps the golden grain, resulting from the ground:
-So from the steel that guards Atrides’ heart,
-Repell’d to distance flies the bounding dart.
-Atrides, watchful of the unwary foe,
-Pierced with his lance the hand that grasp’d the bow.
-And nailed it to the yew: the wounded hand
-Trail’d the long lance that mark’d with blood the sand:
-But good Agenor gently from the wound
-The spear solicits, and the bandage bound;
-A sling’s soft wool, snatch’d from a soldier’s side,
-At once the tent and ligature supplied.
-
-Behold! Pisander, urged by fate’s decree,
-Springs through the ranks to fall, and fall by thee,
-Great Menelaus! to enchance thy fame:
-High-towering in the front, the warrior came.
-First the sharp lance was by Atrides thrown;
-The lance far distant by the winds was blown.
-Nor pierced Pisander through Atrides’ shield:
-Pisander’s spear fell shiver’d on the field.
-Not so discouraged, to the future blind,
-Vain dreams of conquest swell his haughty mind;
-Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan lord
-Like lightning brandish’d his far beaming sword.
-His left arm high opposed the shining shield:
-His right beneath, the cover’d pole-axe held;
-(An olive’s cloudy grain the handle made,
-Distinct with studs, and brazen was the blade;)
-This on the helm discharged a noble blow;
-The plume dropp’d nodding to the plain below,
-Shorn from the crest. Atrides waved his steel:
-Deep through his front the weighty falchion fell;
-The crashing bones before its force gave way;
-In dust and blood the groaning hero lay:
-Forced from their ghastly orbs, and spouting gore,
-The clotted eye-balls tumble on the shore.
-And fierce Atrides spurn’d him as he bled,
-Tore off his arms, and, loud-exulting, said:
-
-“Thus, Trojans, thus, at length be taught to fear;
-O race perfidious, who delight in war!
-Already noble deeds ye have perform’d;
-A princess raped transcends a navy storm’d:
-In such bold feats your impious might approve,
-Without th’ assistance, or the fear of Jove.
-The violated rites, the ravish’d dame;
-Our heroes slaughter’d and our ships on flame,
-Crimes heap’d on crimes, shall bend your glory down,
-And whelm in ruins yon flagitious town.
-O thou, great father! lord of earth and skies,
-Above the thought of man, supremely wise!
-If from thy hand the fates of mortals flow,
-From whence this favour to an impious foe?
-A godless crew, abandon’d and unjust,
-Still breathing rapine, violence, and lust?
-The best of things, beyond their measure, cloy;
-Sleep’s balmy blessing, love’s endearing joy;
-The feast, the dance; whate’er mankind desire,
-Even the sweet charms of sacred numbers tire.
-But Troy for ever reaps a dire delight
-In thirst of slaughter, and in lust of fight.”
-
-This said, he seized (while yet the carcase heaved)
-The bloody armour, which his train received:
-Then sudden mix’d among the warring crew,
-And the bold son of Pylæmenes slew.
-Harpalion had through Asia travell’d far,
-Following his martial father to the war:
-Through filial love he left his native shore,
-Never, ah, never to behold it more!
-His unsuccessful spear he chanced to fling
-Against the target of the Spartan king;
-Thus of his lance disarm’d, from death he flies,
-And turns around his apprehensive eyes.
-Him, through the hip transpiercing as he fled,
-The shaft of Merion mingled with the dead.
-Beneath the bone the glancing point descends,
-And, driving down, the swelling bladder rends:
-Sunk in his sad companions’ arms he lay,
-And in short pantings sobb’d his soul away;
-(Like some vile worm extended on the ground;)
-While life’s red torrent gush’d from out the wound.
-
-Him on his car the Paphlagonian train
-In slow procession bore from off the plain.
-The pensive father, father now no more!
-Attends the mournful pomp along the shore;
-And unavailing tears profusely shed;
-And, unrevenged, deplored his offspring dead.
-
-Paris from far the moving sight beheld,
-With pity soften’d and with fury swell’d:
-His honour’d host, a youth of matchless grace,
-And loved of all the Paphlagonian race!
-With his full strength he bent his angry bow,
-And wing’d the feather’d vengeance at the foe.
-A chief there was, the brave Euchenor named,
-For riches much, and more for virtue famed.
-Who held his seat in Corinth’s stately town;
-Polydus’ son, a seer of old renown.
-Oft had the father told his early doom,
-By arms abroad, or slow disease at home:
-He climb’d his vessel, prodigal of breath,
-And chose the certain glorious path to death.
-Beneath his ear the pointed arrow went;
-The soul came issuing at the narrow vent:
-His limbs, unnerved, drop useless on the ground,
-And everlasting darkness shades him round.
-
-Nor knew great Hector how his legions yield,
-(Wrapp’d in the cloud and tumult of the field:)
-Wide on the left the force of Greece commands,
-And conquest hovers o’er th’ Achaian bands;
-With such a tide superior virtue sway’d,
-And he that shakes the solid earth gave aid.
-But in the centre Hector fix’d remain’d,
-Where first the gates were forced, and bulwarks gain’d;
-There, on the margin of the hoary deep,
-(Their naval station where the Ajaces keep.
-And where low walls confine the beating tides,
-Whose humble barrier scarce the foe divides;
-Where late in fight both foot and horse engaged,
-And all the thunder of the battle raged,)
-There join’d, the whole Bœotian strength remains,
-The proud Iaonians with their sweeping trains,
-Locrians and Phthians, and th’ Epaean force;
-But join’d, repel not Hector’s fiery course.
-The flower of Athens, Stichius, Phidas, led;
-Bias and great Menestheus at their head:
-Meges the strong the Epaean bands controll’d,
-And Dracius prudent, and Amphion bold:
-The Phthians, Medon, famed for martial might,
-And brave Podarces, active in the fight.
-This drew from Phylacus his noble line;
-Iphiclus’ son: and that (Oïleus) thine:
-(Young Ajax’ brother, by a stolen embrace;
-He dwelt far distant from his native place,
-By his fierce step-dame from his father’s reign
-Expell’d and exiled for her brother slain:)
-These rule the Phthians, and their arms employ,
-Mix’d with Bœotians, on the shores of Troy.
-
-Now side by side, with like unwearied care,
-Each Ajax laboured through the field of war:
-So when two lordly bulls, with equal toil,
-Force the bright ploughshare through the fallow soil,
-Join’d to one yoke, the stubborn earth they tear,
-And trace large furrows with the shining share;
-O’er their huge limbs the foam descends in snow,
-And streams of sweat down their sour foreheads flow.
-A train of heroes followed through the field,
-Who bore by turns great Ajax’ sevenfold shield;
-Whene’er he breathed, remissive of his might,
-Tired with the incessant slaughters of the fight.
-No following troops his brave associate grace:
-In close engagement an unpractised race,
-The Locrian squadrons nor the javelin wield,
-Nor bear the helm, nor lift the moony shield;
-But skill’d from far the flying shaft to wing,
-Or whirl the sounding pebble from the sling,
-Dexterous with these they aim a certain wound,
-Or fell the distant warrior to the ground.
-Thus in the van the Telamonian train,
-Throng’d in bright arms, a pressing fight maintain:
-Far in the rear the Locrian archers lie,
-Whose stones and arrows intercept the sky,
-The mingled tempest on the foes they pour;
-Troy’s scattering orders open to the shower.
-
-Now had the Greeks eternal fame acquired,
-And the gall’d Ilians to their walls retired;
-But sage Polydamas, discreetly brave,
-Address’d great Hector, and this counsel gave:
-
-“Though great in all, thou seem’st averse to lend
-Impartial audience to a faithful friend;
-To gods and men thy matchless worth is known,
-And every art of glorious war thy own;
-But in cool thought and counsel to excel,
-How widely differs this from warring well!
-Content with what the bounteous gods have given,
-Seek not alone to engross the gifts of Heaven.
-To some the powers of bloody war belong,
-To some sweet music and the charm of song;
-To few, and wondrous few, has Jove assign’d
-A wise, extensive, all-considering mind;
-Their guardians these, the nations round confess,
-And towns and empires for their safety bless.
-If Heaven have lodged this virtue in my breast,
-Attend, O Hector! what I judge the best,
-See, as thou mov’st, on dangers dangers spread,
-And war’s whole fury burns around thy head.
-Behold! distress’d within yon hostile wall,
-How many Trojans yield, disperse, or fall!
-What troops, out-number’d, scarce the war maintain!
-And what brave heroes at the ships lie slain!
-Here cease thy fury: and, the chiefs and kings
-Convoked to council, weigh the sum of things.
-Whether (the gods succeeding our desires)
-To yon tall ships to bear the Trojan fires;
-Or quit the fleet, and pass unhurt away,
-Contented with the conquest of the day.
-I fear, I fear, lest Greece, not yet undone,
-Pay the large debt of last revolving sun;
-Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains
-On yonder decks, and yet o’erlooks the plains!”
-
-The counsel pleased; and Hector, with a bound,
-Leap’d from his chariot on the trembling ground;
-Swift as he leap’d his clanging arms resound.
-“To guard this post (he cried) thy art employ,
-And here detain the scatter’d youth of Troy;
-Where yonder heroes faint, I bend my way,
-And hasten back to end the doubtful day.”
-
-This said, the towering chief prepares to go,
-Shakes his white plumes that to the breezes flow,
-And seems a moving mountain topp’d with snow.
-Through all his host, inspiring force, he flies,
-And bids anew the martial thunder rise.
-To Panthus’ son, at Hector’s high command
-Haste the bold leaders of the Trojan band:
-But round the battlements, and round the plain,
-For many a chief he look’d, but look’d in vain;
-Deiphobus, nor Helenus the seer,
-Nor Asius’ son, nor Asius’ self appear:
-For these were pierced with many a ghastly wound,
-Some cold in death, some groaning on the ground;
-Some low in dust, (a mournful object) lay;
-High on the wall some breathed their souls away.
-
-Far on the left, amid the throng he found
-(Cheering the troops, and dealing deaths around)
-The graceful Paris; whom, with fury moved,
-Opprobrious thus, th’ impatient chief reproved:
-
-“Ill-fated Paris! slave to womankind,
-As smooth of face as fraudulent of mind!
-Where is Deiphobus, where Asius gone?
-The godlike father, and th’ intrepid son?
-The force of Helenus, dispensing fate;
-And great Othryoneus, so fear’d of late?
-Black fate hang’s o’er thee from th’ avenging gods,
-Imperial Troy from her foundations nods;
-Whelm’d in thy country’s ruin shalt thou fall,
-And one devouring vengeance swallow all.”
-
-When Paris thus: “My brother and my friend,
-Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend,
-In other battles I deserved thy blame,
-Though then not deedless, nor unknown to fame:
-But since yon rampart by thy arms lay low,
-I scatter’d slaughter from my fatal bow.
-The chiefs you seek on yonder shore lie slain;
-Of all those heroes, two alone remain;
-Deiphobus, and Helenus the seer,
-Each now disabled by a hostile spear.
-Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires:
-This heart and hand shall second all thy fires:
-What with this arm I can, prepare to know,
-Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow.
-But ’tis not ours, with forces not our own
-To combat: strength is of the gods alone.”
-These words the hero’s angry mind assuage:
-Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage.
-Around Polydamas, distain’d with blood,
-Cebrion, Phalces, stern Orthaeus stood,
-Palmus, with Polypœtes the divine,
-And two bold brothers of Hippotion’s line
-(Who reach’d fair Ilion, from Ascania far,
-The former day; the next engaged in war).
-As when from gloomy clouds a whirlwind springs,
-That bears Jove’s thunder on its dreadful wings,
-Wide o’er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps;
-Then, gather’d, settles on the hoary deeps;
-The afflicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar;
-The waves behind impel the waves before,
-Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore:
-Thus rank on rank, the thick battalions throng,
-Chief urged on chief, and man drove man along.
-Far o’er the plains, in dreadful order bright,
-The brazen arms reflect a beamy light:
-Full in the blazing van great Hector shined,
-Like Mars commission’d to confound mankind.
-Before him flaming his enormous shield,
-Like the broad sun, illumined all the field;
-His nodding helm emits a streamy ray;
-His piercing eyes through all the battle stray,
-And, while beneath his targe he flash’d along,
-Shot terrors round, that wither’d e’en the strong.
-
-Thus stalk’d he, dreadful; death was in his look:
-Whole nations fear’d; but not an Argive shook.
-The towering Ajax, with an ample stride,
-Advanced the first, and thus the chief defied:
-
-“Hector! come on; thy empty threats forbear;
-’Tis not thy arm, ’tis thundering Jove we fear:
-The skill of war to us not idly given,
-Lo! Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but Heaven.
-Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts,
-To force our fleet: the Greeks have hands and hearts.
-Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall,
-Your boasted city, and your god-built wall,
-Shall sink beneath us, smoking on the ground;
-And spread a long unmeasured ruin round.
-The time shall come, when, chased along the plain,
-Even thou shalt call on Jove, and call in vain;
-Even thou shalt wish, to aid thy desperate course,
-The wings of falcons for thy flying horse;
-Shalt run, forgetful of a warrior’s fame,
-While clouds of friendly dust conceal thy shame.”
-
-As thus he spoke, behold, in open view,
-On sounding wings a dexter eagle flew.
-To Jove’s glad omen all the Grecians rise,
-And hail, with shouts, his progress through the skies:
-Far-echoing clamours bound from side to side;
-They ceased; and thus the chief of Troy replied:
-
-“From whence this menace, this insulting strain?
-Enormous boaster! doom’d to vaunt in vain.
-So may the gods on Hector life bestow,
-(Not that short life which mortals lead below,
-But such as those of Jove’s high lineage born,
-The blue-eyed maid, or he that gilds the morn,)
-As this decisive day shall end the fame
-Of Greece, and Argos be no more a name.
-And thou, imperious! if thy madness wait
-The lance of Hector, thou shalt meet thy fate:
-That giant-corse, extended on the shore,
-Shall largely feast the fowls with fat and gore.”
-
-He said; and like a lion stalk’d along:
-With shouts incessant earth and ocean rung,
-Sent from his following host: the Grecian train
-With answering thunders fill’d the echoing plain;
-A shout that tore heaven’s concave, and, above,
-Shook the fix’d splendours of the throne of Jove.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] GREEK EARRINGS
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XIV.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.[231]
-
-
-JUNO DECEIVES JUPITER BY THE GIRDLE OF VENUS.
-
-
-Nestor, sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the
-increasing clamour of war, and hastens to Agamemnon; on his way he
-meets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the
-extremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by
-night, which Ulysses withstands; to which Diomed adds his advice, that,
-wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with
-their presence, which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of
-Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to over-reach him: she sets off
-her charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him)
-obtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god
-of sleep, and, with some difficulty, persuades him to seal the eyes of
-Jupiter: this done, she goes to mount Ida, where the god, at first
-sight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid
-asleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the
-Greeks: Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax,
-and carried off from the battle: several actions succeed, till the
-Trojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way: the lesser Ajax
-signalizes himself in a particular manner.
-
-
-But not the genial feast, nor flowing bowl,
-Could charm the cares of Nestor’s watchful soul;
-His startled ears the increasing cries attend;
-Then thus, impatient, to his wounded friend:
-
-“What new alarm, divine Machaon, say,
-What mix’d events attend this mighty day?
-Hark! how the shouts divide, and how they meet,
-And now come full, and thicken to the fleet!
-Here with the cordial draught dispel thy care,
-Let Hecamede the strengthening bath prepare,
-Refresh thy wound, and cleanse the clotted gore;
-While I the adventures of the day explore.”
-
-He said: and, seizing Thrasymedes’ shield,
-(His valiant offspring,) hasten’d to the field;
-(That day the son his father’s buckler bore;)
-Then snatch’d a lance, and issued from the door.
-Soon as the prospect open’d to his view,
-His wounded eyes the scene of sorrow knew;
-Dire disarray! the tumult of the fight,
-The wall in ruins, and the Greeks in flight.
-As when old ocean’s silent surface sleeps,
-The waves just heaving on the purple deeps:
-While yet the expected tempest hangs on high,
-Weighs down the cloud, and blackens in the sky,
-The mass of waters will no wind obey;
-Jove sends one gust, and bids them roll away.
-While wavering counsels thus his mind engage,
-Fluctuates in doubtful thought the Pylian sage,
-To join the host, or to the general haste;
-Debating long, he fixes on the last:
-Yet, as he moves, the sight his bosom warms,
-The field rings dreadful with the clang of arms,
-The gleaming falchions flash, the javelins fly;
-Blows echo blows, and all or kill or die.
-
-Him, in his march, the wounded princes meet,
-By tardy steps ascending from the fleet:
-The king of men, Ulysses the divine,
-And who to Tydeus owes his noble line[232]
-(Their ships at distance from the battle stand,
-In lines advanced along the shelving strand:
-Whose bay, the fleet unable to contain
-At length; beside the margin of the main,
-Rank above rank, the crowded ships they moor:
-Who landed first, lay highest on the shore.)
-Supported on the spears, they took their way,
-Unfit to fight, but anxious for the day.
-Nestor’s approach alarm’d each Grecian breast,
-Whom thus the general of the host address’d:
-
-“O grace and glory of the Achaian name;
-What drives thee, Nestor, from the field of fame?
-Shall then proud Hector see his boast fulfill’d,
-Our fleets in ashes, and our heroes kill’d?
-Such was his threat, ah! now too soon made good,
-On many a Grecian bosom writ in blood.
-Is every heart inflamed with equal rage
-Against your king, nor will one chief engage?
-And have I lived to see with mournful eyes
-In every Greek a new Achilles rise?”
-
-Gerenian Nestor then: “So fate has will’d;
-And all-confirming time has fate fulfill’d.
-Not he that thunders from the aerial bower,
-Not Jove himself, upon the past has power.
-The wall, our late inviolable bound,
-And best defence, lies smoking on the ground:
-Even to the ships their conquering arms extend,
-And groans of slaughter’d Greeks to heaven ascend.
-On speedy measures then employ your thought
-In such distress! if counsel profit aught:
-Arms cannot much: though Mars our souls incite,
-These gaping wounds withhold us from the fight.”
-
-To him the monarch: “That our army bends,
-That Troy triumphant our high fleet ascends,
-And that the rampart, late our surest trust
-And best defence, lies smoking in the dust;
-All this from Jove’s afflictive hand we bear,
-Who, far from Argos, wills our ruin here.
-Past are the days when happier Greece was blest,
-And all his favour, all his aid confess’d;
-Now heaven averse, our hands from battle ties,
-And lifts the Trojan glory to the skies.
-Cease we at length to waste our blood in vain,
-And launch what ships lie nearest to the main;
-Leave these at anchor, till the coming night:
-Then, if impetuous Troy forbear the fight,
-Bring all to sea, and hoist each sail for flight.
-Better from evils, well foreseen, to run,
-Than perish in the danger we may shun.”
-
-Thus he. The sage Ulysses thus replies,
-While anger flash’d from his disdainful eyes:
-“What shameful words (unkingly as thou art)
-Fall from that trembling tongue and timorous heart?
-Oh were thy sway the curse of meaner powers,
-And thou the shame of any host but ours!
-A host, by Jove endued with martial might,
-And taught to conquer, or to fall in fight:
-Adventurous combats and bold wars to wage,
-Employ’d our youth, and yet employs our age.
-And wilt thou thus desert the Trojan plain?
-And have whole streams of blood been spilt in vain?
-In such base sentence if thou couch thy fear,
-Speak it in whispers, lest a Greek should hear.
-Lives there a man so dead to fame, who dares
-To think such meanness, or the thought declares?
-And comes it even from him whose sovereign sway
-The banded legions of all Greece obey?
-Is this a general’s voice that calls to flight,
-While war hangs doubtful, while his soldiers fight?
-What more could Troy? What yet their fate denies
-Thou givest the foe: all Greece becomes their prize.
-No more the troops (our hoisted sails in view,
-Themselves abandon’d) shall the fight pursue;
-But thy ships flying, with despair shall see;
-And owe destruction to a prince like thee.”
-
-“Thy just reproofs (Atrides calm replies)
-Like arrows pierce me, for thy words are wise.
-Unwilling as I am to lose the host,
-I force not Greece to quit this hateful coast;
-Glad I submit, whoe’er, or young, or old,
-Aught, more conducive to our weal, unfold.”
-
-Tydides cut him short, and thus began:
-“Such counsel if you seek, behold the man
-Who boldly gives it, and what he shall say,
-Young though he be, disdain not to obey:
-A youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs,
-May speak to councils and assembled kings.
-Hear then in me the great OEnides’ son,
-Whose honoured dust (his race of glory run)
-Lies whelm’d in ruins of the Theban wall;
-Brave in his life, and glorious in his fall.
-With three bold sons was generous Prothous bless’d,
-Who Pleuron’s walls and Calydon possess’d;
-Melas and Agrius, but (who far surpass’d
-The rest in courage) Œneus was the last.
-From him, my sire. From Calydon expell’d,
-He pass’d to Argos, and in exile dwell’d;
-The monarch’s daughter there (so Jove ordain’d)
-He won, and flourish’d where Adrastus reign’d;
-There, rich in fortune’s gifts, his acres till’d,
-Beheld his vines their liquid harvest yield,
-And numerous flocks that whiten’d all the field.
-Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in fame!
-Nor lives in Greece a stranger to his name.
-Then, what for common good my thoughts inspire,
-Attend, and in the son respect the sire.
-Though sore of battle, though with wounds oppress’d,
-Let each go forth, and animate the rest,
-Advance the glory which he cannot share,
-Though not partaker, witness of the war.
-But lest new wounds on wounds o’erpower us quite,
-Beyond the missile javelin’s sounding flight,
-Safe let us stand; and, from the tumult far,
-Inspire the ranks, and rule the distant war.”
-
-He added not: the listening kings obey,
-Slow moving on; Atrides leads the way.
-The god of ocean (to inflame their rage)
-Appears a warrior furrowed o’er with age;
-Press’d in his own, the general’s hand he took,
-And thus the venerable hero spoke:
-
-“Atrides! lo! with what disdainful eye
-Achilles sees his country’s forces fly;
-Blind, impious man! whose anger is his guide,
-Who glories in unutterable pride.
-So may he perish, so may Jove disclaim
-The wretch relentless, and o’erwhelm with shame!
-But Heaven forsakes not thee: o’er yonder sands
-Soon shall thou view the scattered Trojan bands
-Fly diverse; while proud kings, and chiefs renown’d,
-Driven heaps on heaps, with clouds involved around
-Of rolling dust, their winged wheels employ
-To hide their ignominious heads in Troy.”
-
-He spoke, then rush’d amid the warrior crew,
-And sent his voice before him as he flew,
-Loud, as the shout encountering armies yield
-When twice ten thousand shake the labouring field;
-Such was the voice, and such the thundering sound
-Of him whose trident rends the solid ground.
-Each Argive bosom beats to meet the fight,
-And grisly war appears a pleasing sight.
-
-Meantime Saturnia from Olympus’ brow,
-High-throned in gold, beheld the fields below;
-With joy the glorious conflict she survey’d,
-Where her great brother gave the Grecians aid.
-But placed aloft, on Ida’s shady height
-She sees her Jove, and trembles at the sight.
-Jove to deceive, what methods shall she try,
-What arts, to blind his all-beholding eye?
-At length she trusts her power; resolved to prove
-The old, yet still successful, cheat of love;
-Against his wisdom to oppose her charms,
-And lull the lord of thunders in her arms.
-
-Swift to her bright apartment she repairs,
-Sacred to dress and beauty’s pleasing cares:
-With skill divine had Vulcan form’d the bower,
-Safe from access of each intruding power.
-Touch’d with her secret key, the doors unfold:
-Self-closed, behind her shut the valves of gold.
-Here first she bathes; and round her body pours
-Soft oils of fragrance, and ambrosial showers:
-The winds, perfumed, the balmy gale convey
-Through heaven, through earth, and all the aerial way:
-Spirit divine! whose exhalation greets
-The sense of gods with more than mortal sweets.
-Thus while she breathed of heaven, with decent pride
-Her artful hands the radiant tresses tied;
-Part on her head in shining ringlets roll’d,
-Part o’er her shoulders waved like melted gold.
-Around her next a heavenly mantle flow’d,
-That rich with Pallas’ labour’d colours glow’d:
-Large clasps of gold the foldings gather’d round,
-A golden zone her swelling bosom bound.
-Far-beaming pendants tremble in her ear,
-Each gem illumined with a triple star.
-Then o’er her head she cast a veil more white
-Than new-fallen snow, and dazzling as the light.
-Last her fair feet celestial sandals grace.
-Thus issuing radiant with majestic pace,
-Forth from the dome the imperial goddess moves,
-And calls the mother of the smiles and loves.
-
-“How long (to Venus thus apart she cried)
-Shall human strife celestial minds divide?
-Ah yet, will Venus aid Saturnia’s joy,
-And set aside the cause of Greece and Troy?”
-
-“Let heaven’s dread empress (Cytheraea said)
-Speak her request, and deem her will obey’d.”
-
-“Then grant me (said the queen) those conquering charms,
-That power, which mortals and immortals warms,
-That love, which melts mankind in fierce desires,
-And burns the sons of heaven with sacred fires!
-
-“For lo! I haste to those remote abodes,
-Where the great parents, (sacred source of gods!)
-Ocean and Tethys their old empire keep,
-On the last limits of the land and deep.
-In their kind arms my tender years were past;
-What time old Saturn, from Olympus cast,
-Of upper heaven to Jove resign’d the reign,
-Whelm’d under the huge mass of earth and main.
-For strife, I hear, has made the union cease,
-Which held so long that ancient pair in peace.
-What honour, and what love, shall I obtain,
-If I compose those fatal feuds again;
-Once more their minds in mutual ties engage,
-And, what my youth has owed, repay their age!”
-
-She said. With awe divine, the queen of love
-Obey’d the sister and the wife of Jove;
-And from her fragrant breast the zone embraced,[233]
-With various skill and high embroidery graced.
-In this was every art, and every charm,
-To win the wisest, and the coldest warm:
-Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire,
-The kind deceit, the still-reviving fire,
-Persuasive speech, and the more persuasive sighs,
-Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
-This on her hand the Cyprian Goddess laid:
-“Take this, and with it all thy wish;” she said.
-With smiles she took the charm; and smiling press’d
-The powerful cestus to her snowy breast.
-
-Then Venus to the courts of Jove withdrew;
-Whilst from Olympus pleased Saturnia flew.
-O’er high Pieria thence her course she bore,
-O’er fair Emathia’s ever-pleasing shore,
-O’er Hemus’ hills with snows eternal crown’d;
-Nor once her flying foot approach’d the ground.
-Then taking wing from Athos’ lofty steep,
-She speeds to Lemnos o’er the rolling deep,
-And seeks the cave of Death’s half-brother, Sleep.[234]
-
-“Sweet pleasing Sleep! (Saturnia thus began)
-Who spread’st thy empire o’er each god and man;
-If e’er obsequious to thy Juno’s will,
-O power of slumbers! hear, and favour still.
-Shed thy soft dews on Jove’s immortal eyes,
-While sunk in love’s entrancing joys he lies.
-A splendid footstool, and a throne, that shine
-With gold unfading, Somnus, shall be thine;
-The work of Vulcan; to indulge thy ease,
-When wine and feasts thy golden humours please.”
-
-“Imperial dame (the balmy power replies),
-Great Saturn’s heir, and empress of the skies!
-O’er other gods I spread my easy chain;
-The sire of all, old Ocean, owns my reign.
-And his hush’d waves lie silent on the main.
-But how, unbidden, shall I dare to steep
-Jove’s awful temples in the dew of sleep?
-Long since, too venturous, at thy bold command,
-On those eternal lids I laid my hand;
-What time, deserting Ilion’s wasted plain,
-His conquering son, Alcides, plough’d the main.
-When lo! the deeps arise, the tempests roar,
-And drive the hero to the Coan shore:
-Great Jove, awaking, shook the blest abodes
-With rising wrath, and tumbled gods on gods;
-Me chief he sought, and from the realms on high
-Had hurl’d indignant to the nether sky,
-But gentle Night, to whom I fled for aid,
-(The friend of earth and heaven,) her wings display’d;
-Impower’d the wrath of gods and men to tame,
-Even Jove revered the venerable dame.”
-
-“Vain are thy fears (the queen of heaven replies,
-And, speaking, rolls her large majestic eyes);
-Think’st thou that Troy has Jove’s high favour won,
-Like great Alcides, his all-conquering son?
-Hear, and obey the mistress of the skies,
-Nor for the deed expect a vulgar prize;
-For know, thy loved-one shall be ever thine,
-The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.”[235]
-
-“Swear then (he said) by those tremendous floods
-That roar through hell, and bind the invoking gods:
-Let the great parent earth one hand sustain,
-And stretch the other o’er the sacred main:
-Call the black Titans, that with Chronos dwell,
-To hear and witness from the depths of hell;
-That she, my loved-one, shall be ever mine,
-The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.”
-
-The queen assents, and from the infernal bowers
-Invokes the sable subtartarean powers,
-And those who rule the inviolable floods,
-Whom mortals name the dread Titanian gods.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] SLEEP ESCAPING FROM THE WRATH OF JUPITER
-
-
-Then swift as wind, o’er Lemnos’ smoky isle
-They wing their way, and Imbrus’ sea-beat soil;
-Through air, unseen, involved in darkness glide,
-And light on Lectos, on the point of Ide:
-(Mother of savages, whose echoing hills
-Are heard resounding with a hundred rills:)
-Fair Ida trembles underneath the god;
-Hush’d are her mountains, and her forests nod.
-There on a fir, whose spiry branches rise
-To join its summit to the neighbouring skies;
-Dark in embowering shade, conceal’d from sight,
-Sat Sleep, in likeness of the bird of night.
-(Chalcis his name by those of heavenly birth,
-But call’d Cymindis by the race of earth.)
-
-To Ida’s top successful Juno flies;
-Great Jove surveys her with desiring eyes:
-The god, whose lightning sets the heavens on fire,
-Through all his bosom feels the fierce desire;
-Fierce as when first by stealth he seized her charms,
-Mix’d with her soul, and melted in her arms:
-Fix’d on her eyes he fed his eager look,
-Then press’d her hand, and thus with transport spoke:
-
-“Why comes my goddess from the ethereal sky,
-And not her steeds and flaming chariot nigh?”
-
-Then she—“I haste to those remote abodes
-Where the great parents of the deathless gods,
-The reverend Ocean and gray Tethys, reign,
-On the last limits of the land and main.
-I visit these, to whose indulgent cares
-I owe the nursing of my tender years:
-For strife, I hear, has made that union cease
-Which held so long that ancient pair in peace.
-The steeds, prepared my chariot to convey
-O’er earth and seas, and through the aerial way,
-Wait under Ide: of thy superior power
-To ask consent, I leave the Olympian bower;
-Nor seek, unknown to thee, the sacred cells
-Deep under seas, where hoary Ocean dwells.”
-
-“For that (said Jove) suffice another day!
-But eager love denies the least delay.
-Let softer cares the present hour employ,
-And be these moments sacred all to joy.
-Ne’er did my soul so strong a passion prove,
-Or for an earthly, or a heavenly love:
-Not when I press’d Ixion’s matchless dame,
-Whence rose Pirithous like the gods in fame:
-Not when fair Danae felt the shower of gold
-Stream into life, whence Perseus brave and bold.
-Not thus I burn’d for either Theban dame:
-(Bacchus from this, from that Alcides came:)
-Nor Phœnix’ daughter, beautiful and young,
-Whence godlike Rhadamanth and Minos sprung.[236]
-Not thus I burn’d for fair Latona’s face,
-Nor comelier Ceres’ more majestic grace.
-Not thus even for thyself I felt desire,
-As now my veins receive the pleasing fire.”
-
-He spoke; the goddess with the charming eyes
-Glows with celestial red, and thus replies:
-“Is this a scene for love? On Ida’s height,
-Exposed to mortal and immortal sight!
-Our joys profaned by each familiar eye;
-The sport of heaven, and fable of the sky:
-How shall I e’er review the blest abodes,
-Or mix among the senate of the gods?
-Shall I not think, that, with disorder’d charms,
-All heaven beholds me recent from thy arms?
-With skill divine has Vulcan form’d thy bower,
-Sacred to love and to the genial hour;
-If such thy will, to that recess retire,
-In secret there indulge thy soft desire.”
-
-She ceased; and, smiling with superior love,
-Thus answer’d mild the cloud-compelling Jove:
-“Nor god nor mortal shall our joys behold,
-Shaded with clouds, and circumfused in gold;
-Not even the sun, who darts through heaven his rays,
-And whose broad eye the extended earth surveys.”
-
-Gazing he spoke, and, kindling at the view,
-His eager arms around the goddess threw.
-Glad Earth perceives, and from her bosom pours
-Unbidden herbs and voluntary flowers:
-Thick new-born violets a soft carpet spread,
-And clustering lotos swell’d the rising bed,
-And sudden hyacinths the turf bestrow,[237]
-And flamy crocus made the mountain glow
-There golden clouds conceal the heavenly pair,
-Steep’d in soft joys and circumfused with air;
-Celestial dews, descending o’er the ground,
-Perfume the mount, and breathe ambrosia round:
-At length, with love and sleep’s soft power oppress’d,
-The panting thunderer nods, and sinks to rest.
-
-Now to the navy borne on silent wings,
-To Neptune’s ear soft Sleep his message brings;
-Beside him sudden, unperceived, he stood,
-And thus with gentle words address’d the god:
-
-“Now, Neptune! now, the important hour employ,
-To check a while the haughty hopes of Troy:
-While Jove yet rests, while yet my vapours shed
-The golden vision round his sacred head;
-For Juno’s love, and Somnus’ pleasing ties,
-Have closed those awful and eternal eyes.”
-Thus having said, the power of slumber flew,
-On human lids to drop the balmy dew.
-Neptune, with zeal increased, renews his care,
-And towering in the foremost ranks of war,
-Indignant thus—“Oh once of martial fame!
-O Greeks! if yet ye can deserve the name!
-This half-recover’d day shall Troy obtain?
-Shall Hector thunder at your ships again?
-Lo! still he vaunts, and threats the fleet with fires,
-While stern Achilles in his wrath retires.
-One hero’s loss too tamely you deplore,
-Be still yourselves, and ye shall need no more.
-Oh yet, if glory any bosom warms,
-Brace on your firmest helms, and stand to arms:
-His strongest spear each valiant Grecian wield,
-Each valiant Grecian seize his broadest shield;
-Let to the weak the lighter arms belong,
-The ponderous targe be wielded by the strong.
-Thus arm’d, not Hector shall our presence stay;
-Myself, ye Greeks! myself will lead the way.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] GREEK SHIELD
-
-
-The troops assent; their martial arms they change:
-The busy chiefs their banded legions range.
-The kings, though wounded, and oppress’d with pain,
-With helpful hands themselves assist the train.
-The strong and cumbrous arms the valiant wield,
-The weaker warrior takes a lighter shield.
-Thus sheath’d in shining brass, in bright array
-The legions march, and Neptune leads the way:
-His brandish’d falchion flames before their eyes,
-Like lightning flashing through the frighted skies.
-Clad in his might, the earth-shaking power appears;
-Pale mortals tremble, and confess their fears.
-
-Troy’s great defender stands alone unawed,
-Arms his proud host, and dares oppose a god:
-And lo! the god, and wondrous man, appear:
-The sea’s stern ruler there, and Hector here.
-The roaring main, at her great master’s call,
-Rose in huge ranks, and form’d a watery wall
-Around the ships: seas hanging o’er the shores,
-Both armies join: earth thunders, ocean roars.
-Not half so loud the bellowing deeps resound,
-When stormy winds disclose the dark profound;
-Less loud the winds that from the Æolian hall
-Roar through the woods, and make whole forests fall;
-Less loud the woods, when flames in torrents pour,
-Catch the dry mountain, and its shades devour;
-With such a rage the meeting hosts are driven,
-And such a clamour shakes the sounding heaven.
-The first bold javelin, urged by Hector’s force,
-Direct at Ajax’ bosom winged its course;
-But there no pass the crossing belts afford,
-(One braced his shield, and one sustain’d his sword.)
-Then back the disappointed Trojan drew,
-And cursed the lance that unavailing flew:
-But ’scaped not Ajax; his tempestuous hand
-A ponderous stone upheaving from the sand,
-(Where heaps laid loose beneath the warrior’s feet,
-Or served to ballast, or to prop the fleet,)
-Toss’d round and round, the missive marble flings;
-On the razed shield the fallen ruin rings,
-Full on his breast and throat with force descends;
-Nor deaden’d there its giddy fury spends,
-But whirling on, with many a fiery round,
-Smokes in the dust, and ploughs into the ground.
-As when the bolt, red-hissing from above,
-Darts on the consecrated plant of Jove,
-The mountain-oak in flaming ruin lies,
-Black from the blow, and smokes of sulphur rise;
-Stiff with amaze the pale beholders stand,
-And own the terrors of the almighty hand!
-So lies great Hector prostrate on the shore;
-His slacken’d hand deserts the lance it bore;
-His following shield the fallen chief o’erspread;
-Beneath his helmet dropp’d his fainting head;
-His load of armour, sinking to the ground,
-Clanks on the field, a dead and hollow sound.
-Loud shouts of triumph fill the crowded plain;
-Greece sees, in hope, Troy’s great defender slain:
-All spring to seize him; storms of arrows fly,
-And thicker javelins intercept the sky.
-In vain an iron tempest hisses round;
-He lies protected, and without a wound.[238]
-Polydamas, Agenor the divine,
-The pious warrior of Anchises’ line,
-And each bold leader of the Lycian band,
-With covering shields (a friendly circle) stand,
-His mournful followers, with assistant care,
-The groaning hero to his chariot bear;
-His foaming coursers, swifter than the wind,
-Speed to the town, and leave the war behind.
-
-When now they touch’d the mead’s enamell’d side,
-Where gentle Xanthus rolls his easy tide,
-With watery drops the chief they sprinkle round,
-Placed on the margin of the flowery ground.
-Raised on his knees, he now ejects the gore;
-Now faints anew, low-sinking on the shore;
-By fits he breathes, half views the fleeting skies,
-And seals again, by fits, his swimming eyes.
-
-Soon as the Greeks the chief’s retreat beheld,
-With double fury each invades the field.
-Oilean Ajax first his javelin sped,
-Pierced by whose point the son of Enops bled;
-(Satnius the brave, whom beauteous Neis bore
-Amidst her flocks on Satnio’s silver shore;)
-Struck through the belly’s rim, the warrior lies
-Supine, and shades eternal veil his eyes.
-An arduous battle rose around the dead;
-By turns the Greeks, by turns the Trojans bled.
-
-Fired with revenge, Polydamas drew near,
-And at Prothoënor shook the trembling spear;
-The driving javelin through his shoulder thrust,
-He sinks to earth, and grasps the bloody dust.
-“Lo thus (the victor cries) we rule the field,
-And thus their arms the race of Panthus wield:
-From this unerring hand there flies no dart
-But bathes its point within a Grecian heart.
-Propp’d on that spear to which thou owest thy fall,
-Go, guide thy darksome steps to Pluto’s dreary hall.”
-
-He said, and sorrow touch’d each Argive breast:
-The soul of Ajax burn’d above the rest.
-As by his side the groaning warrior fell,
-At the fierce foe he launch’d his piercing steel;
-The foe, reclining, shunn’d the flying death;
-But fate, Archilochus, demands thy breath:
-Thy lofty birth no succour could impart,
-The wings of death o’ertook thee on the dart;
-Swift to perform heaven’s fatal will, it fled
-Full on the juncture of the neck and head,
-And took the joint, and cut the nerves in twain:
-The dropping head first tumbled on the plain.
-So just the stroke, that yet the body stood
-Erect, then roll’d along the sands in blood.
-
-“Here, proud Polydamas, here turn thy eyes!
-(The towering Ajax loud-insulting cries:)
-Say, is this chief extended on the plain
-A worthy vengeance for Prothoënor slain?
-Mark well his port! his figure and his face
-Nor speak him vulgar, nor of vulgar race;
-Some lines, methinks, may make his lineage known,
-Antenor’s brother, or perhaps his son.”
-
-He spake, and smiled severe, for well he knew
-The bleeding youth: Troy sadden’d at the view.
-But furious Acamas avenged his cause;
-As Promachus his slaughtered brother draws,
-He pierced his heart—“Such fate attends you all,
-Proud Argives! destined by our arms to fall.
-Not Troy alone, but haughty Greece, shall share
-The toils, the sorrows, and the wounds of war.
-Behold your Promachus deprived of breath,
-A victim owed to my brave brother’s death.
-Not unappeased he enters Pluto’s gate,
-Who leaves a brother to revenge his fate.”
-
-Heart-piercing anguish struck the Grecian host,
-But touch’d the breast of bold Peneleus most;
-At the proud boaster he directs his course;
-The boaster flies, and shuns superior force.
-But young Ilioneus received the spear;
-Ilioneus, his father’s only care:
-(Phorbas the rich, of all the Trojan train
-Whom Hermes loved, and taught the arts of gain:)
-Full in his eye the weapon chanced to fall,
-And from the fibres scoop’d the rooted ball,
-Drove through the neck, and hurl’d him to the plain;
-He lifts his miserable arms in vain!
-Swift his broad falchion fierce Peneleus spread,
-And from the spouting shoulders struck his head;
-To earth at once the head and helmet fly;
-The lance, yet sticking through the bleeding eye,
-The victor seized; and, as aloft he shook
-The gory visage, thus insulting spoke:
-
-“Trojans! your great Ilioneus behold!
-Haste, to his father let the tale be told:
-Let his high roofs resound with frantic woe,
-Such as the house of Promachus must know;
-Let doleful tidings greet his mother’s ear,
-Such as to Promachus’ sad spouse we bear,
-When we victorious shall to Greece return,
-And the pale matron in our triumphs mourn.”
-
-Dreadful he spoke, then toss’d the head on high;
-The Trojans hear, they tremble, and they fly:
-Aghast they gaze around the fleet and wall,
-And dread the ruin that impends on all.
-
-Daughters of Jove! that on Olympus shine,
-Ye all-beholding, all-recording nine!
-O say, when Neptune made proud Ilion yield,
-What chief, what hero first embrued the field?
-Of all the Grecians what immortal name,
-And whose bless’d trophies, will ye raise to fame?
-
-Thou first, great Ajax! on the unsanguined plain
-Laid Hyrtius, leader of the Mysian train.
-Phalces and Mermer, Nestor’s son o’erthrew,
-Bold Merion, Morys and Hippotion slew.
-Strong Periphaetes and Prothoon bled,
-By Teucer’s arrows mingled with the dead,
-Pierced in the flank by Menelaus’ steel,
-His people’s pastor, Hyperenor fell;
-Eternal darkness wrapp’d the warrior round,
-And the fierce soul came rushing through the wound.
-But stretch’d in heaps before Oïleus’ son,
-Fall mighty numbers, mighty numbers run;
-Ajax the less, of all the Grecian race
-Skill’d in pursuit, and swiftest in the chase.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] BACCHUS
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XV.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE FIFTH BATTLE AT THE SHIPS; AND THE ACTS OF AJAX.
-
-
-Jupiter, awaking, sees the Trojans repulsed from the trenches, Hector
-in a swoon, and Neptune at the head of the Greeks: he is highly
-incensed at the artifice of Juno, who appeases him by her submissions;
-she is then sent to Iris and Apollo. Juno, repairing to the assembly of
-the gods, attempts, with extraordinary address, to incense them against
-Jupiter; in particular she touches Mars with a violent resentment; he
-is ready to take arms, but is prevented by Minerva. Iris and Apollo
-obey the orders of Jupiter; Iris commands Neptune to leave the battle,
-to which, after much reluctance and passion, he consents. Apollo
-reinspires Hector with vigour, brings him back to the battle, marches
-before him with his ægis, and turns the fortune of the fight. He
-breaks down great part of the Grecian wall: the Trojans rush in, and
-attempt to fire the first line of the fleet, but are, as yet, repelled
-by the greater Ajax with a prodigious slaughter.
-
-
-Now in swift flight they pass the trench profound,
-And many a chief lay gasping on the ground:
-Then stopp’d and panted, where the chariots lie
-Fear on their cheek, and horror in their eye.
-Meanwhile, awaken’d from his dream of love,
-On Ida’s summit sat imperial Jove:
-Round the wide fields he cast a careful view,
-There saw the Trojans fly, the Greeks pursue;
-These proud in arms, those scatter’d o’er the plain
-And, ’midst the war, the monarch of the main.
-Not far, great Hector on the dust he spies,
-(His sad associates round with weeping eyes,)
-Ejecting blood, and panting yet for breath,
-His senses wandering to the verge of death.
-The god beheld him with a pitying look,
-And thus, incensed, to fraudful Juno spoke:
-
-“O thou, still adverse to the eternal will,
-For ever studious in promoting ill!
-Thy arts have made the godlike Hector yield,
-And driven his conquering squadrons from the field.
-Canst thou, unhappy in thy wiles, withstand
-Our power immense, and brave the almighty hand?
-Hast thou forgot, when, bound and fix’d on high,
-From the vast concave of the spangled sky,
-I hung thee trembling in a golden chain,
-And all the raging gods opposed in vain?
-Headlong I hurl’d them from the Olympian hall,
-Stunn’d in the whirl, and breathless with the fall.
-For godlike Hercules these deeds were done,
-Nor seem’d the vengeance worthy such a son:
-When, by thy wiles induced, fierce Boreas toss’d
-The shipwreck’d hero on the Coan coast,
-Him through a thousand forms of death I bore,
-And sent to Argos, and his native shore.
-Hear this, remember, and our fury dread,
-Nor pull the unwilling vengeance on thy head;
-Lest arts and blandishments successless prove,
-Thy soft deceits, and well-dissembled love.”
-
-The Thunderer spoke: imperial Juno mourn’d,
-And, trembling, these submissive words return’d:
-
-“By every oath that powers immortal ties,
-The foodful earth and all-infolding skies;
-By thy black waves, tremendous Styx! that flow
-Through the drear realms of gliding ghosts below;
-By the dread honours of thy sacred head,
-And that unbroken vow, our virgin bed!
-Not by my arts the ruler of the main
-Steeps Troy in blood, and ranges round the plain:
-By his own ardour, his own pity sway’d,
-To help his Greeks, he fought and disobey’d:
-Else had thy Juno better counsels given,
-And taught submission to the sire of heaven.”
-
-“Think’st thou with me? fair empress of the skies!
-(The immortal father with a smile replies;)
-Then soon the haughty sea-god shall obey,
-Nor dare to act but when we point the way.
-If truth inspires thy tongue, proclaim our will
-To yon bright synod on the Olympian hill;
-Our high decree let various Iris know,
-And call the god that bears the silver bow.
-Let her descend, and from the embattled plain
-Command the sea-god to his watery reign:
-While Phœbus hastes great Hector to prepare
-To rise afresh, and once more wake the war:
-His labouring bosom re-inspires with breath,
-And calls his senses from the verge of death.
-Greece chased by Troy, even to Achilles’ fleet,
-Shall fall by thousands at the hero’s feet.
-He, not untouch’d with pity, to the plain
-Shall send Patroclus, but shall send in vain.
-What youths he slaughters under Ilion’s walls!
-Even my loved son, divine Sarpedon, falls!
-Vanquish’d at last by Hector’s lance he lies.
-Then, nor till then, shall great Achilles rise:
-And lo! that instant, godlike Hector dies.
-From that great hour the war’s whole fortune turns,
-Pallas assists, and lofty Ilion burns.
-Not till that day shall Jove relax his rage,
-Nor one of all the heavenly host engage
-In aid of Greece. The promise of a god
-I gave, and seal’d it with the almighty nod,
-Achilles’ glory to the stars to raise;
-Such was our word, and fate the word obeys.”
-
-The trembling queen (the almighty order given)
-Swift from the Idaean summit shot to heaven.
-As some wayfaring man, who wanders o’er
-In thought a length of lands he trod before,
-Sends forth his active mind from place to place,
-Joins hill to dale, and measures space with space:
-So swift flew Juno to the bless’d abodes,
-If thought of man can match the speed of gods.
-There sat the powers in awful synod placed;
-They bow’d, and made obeisance as she pass’d
-Through all the brazen dome:[239] with goblets crown’d
-They hail her queen; the nectar streams around.
-Fair Themis first presents the golden bowl,
-And anxious asks what cares disturb her soul?
-
-To whom the white-arm’d goddess thus replies:
-“Enough thou know’st the tyrant of the skies,
-Severely bent his purpose to fulfil,
-Unmoved his mind, and unrestrain’d his will.
-Go thou, the feasts of heaven attend thy call;
-Bid the crown’d nectar circle round the hall:
-But Jove shall thunder through the ethereal dome
-Such stern decrees, such threaten’d woes to come,
-As soon shall freeze mankind with dire surprise,
-And damp the eternal banquets of the skies.”
-
-The goddess said, and sullen took her place;
-Black horror sadden’d each celestial face.
-To see the gathering grudge in every breast,
-Smiles on her lips a spleenful joy express’d;
-While on her wrinkled front, and eyebrow bent,
-Sat stedfast care, and lowering discontent.
-Thus she proceeds—“Attend, ye powers above!
-But know, ’tis madness to contest with Jove:
-Supreme he sits; and sees, in pride of sway.
-Your vassal godheads grudgingly obey:
-Fierce in the majesty of power controls;
-Shakes all the thrones of heaven, and bends the poles.
-Submiss, immortals! all he wills, obey:
-And thou, great Mars, begin and show the way.
-Behold Ascalaphus! behold him die,
-But dare not murmur, dare not vent a sigh;
-Thy own loved boasted offspring lies o’erthrown,
-If that loved boasted offspring be thy own.”
-
-Stern Mars, with anguish for his slaughter’d son,
-Smote his rebelling breast, and fierce begun:
-“Thus then, immortals! thus shall Mars obey;
-Forgive me, gods, and yield my vengeance way:
-Descending first to yon forbidden plain,
-The god of battles dares avenge the slain;
-Dares, though the thunder bursting o’er my head
-Should hurl me blazing on those heaps of dead.”
-
-With that he gives command to Fear and Flight
-To join his rapid coursers for the fight:
-Then grim in arms, with hasty vengeance flies;
-Arms that reflect a radiance through the skies.
-And now had Jove, by bold rebellion driven,
-Discharged his wrath on half the host of heaven;
-But Pallas, springing through the bright abode,
-Starts from her azure throne to calm the god.
-Struck for the immortal race with timely fear,
-From frantic Mars she snatch’d the shield and spear;
-Then the huge helmet lifting from his head,
-Thus to the impetuous homicide she said:
-
-“By what wild passion, furious! art thou toss’d?
-Striv’st thou with Jove? thou art already lost.
-Shall not the Thunderer’s dread command restrain,
-And was imperial Juno heard in vain?
-Back to the skies wouldst thou with shame be driven,
-And in thy guilt involve the host of heaven?
-Ilion and Greece no more should Jove engage,
-The skies would yield an ampler scene of rage;
-Guilty and guiltless find an equal fate
-And one vast ruin whelm the Olympian state.
-Cease then thy offspring’s death unjust to call;
-Heroes as great have died, and yet shall fall.
-Why should heaven’s law with foolish man comply
-Exempted from the race ordain’d to die?”
-
-This menace fix’d the warrior to his throne;
-Sullen he sat, and curb’d the rising groan.
-Then Juno call’d (Jove’s orders to obey)
-The winged Iris, and the god of day.
-“Go wait the Thunderer’s will (Saturnia cried)
-On yon tall summit of the fountful Ide:
-There in the father’s awful presence stand,
-Receive, and execute his dread command.”
-
-She said, and sat; the god that gilds the day,
-And various Iris, wing their airy way.
-Swift as the wind, to Ida’s hills they came,
-(Fair nurse of fountains, and of savage game)
-There sat the eternal; he whose nod controls
-The trembling world, and shakes the steady poles.
-Veil’d in a mist of fragrance him they found,
-With clouds of gold and purple circled round.
-Well-pleased the Thunderer saw their earnest care,
-And prompt obedience to the queen of air;
-Then (while a smile serenes his awful brow)
-Commands the goddess of the showery bow:
-
-“Iris! descend, and what we here ordain,
-Report to yon mad tyrant of the main.
-Bid him from fight to his own deeps repair,
-Or breathe from slaughter in the fields of air.
-If he refuse, then let him timely weigh
-Our elder birthright, and superior sway.
-How shall his rashness stand the dire alarms,
-If heaven’s omnipotence descend in arms?
-Strives he with me, by whom his power was given,
-And is there equal to the lord of heaven?”
-
-The all-mighty spoke; the goddess wing’d her flight
-To sacred Ilion from the Idaean height.
-Swift as the rattling hail, or fleecy snows,
-Drive through the skies, when Boreas fiercely blows;
-So from the clouds descending Iris falls,
-And to blue Neptune thus the goddess calls:
-
-“Attend the mandate of the sire above!
-In me behold the messenger of Jove:
-He bids thee from forbidden wars repair
-To thine own deeps, or to the fields of air.
-This if refused, he bids thee timely weigh
-His elder birthright, and superior sway.
-How shall thy rashness stand the dire alarms
-If heaven’s omnipotence descend in arms?
-Striv’st thou with him by whom all power is given?
-And art thou equal to the lord of heaven?”
-
-“What means the haughty sovereign of the skies?
-(The king of ocean thus, incensed, replies;)
-Rule as he will his portion’d realms on high;
-No vassal god, nor of his train, am I.
-Three brother deities from Saturn came,
-And ancient Rhea, earth’s immortal dame:
-Assign’d by lot, our triple rule we know;
-Infernal Pluto sways the shades below;
-O’er the wide clouds, and o’er the starry plain,
-Ethereal Jove extends his high domain;
-My court beneath the hoary waves I keep,
-And hush the roarings of the sacred deep;
-Olympus, and this earth, in common lie:
-What claim has here the tyrant of the sky?
-Far in the distant clouds let him control,
-And awe the younger brothers of the pole;
-There to his children his commands be given,
-The trembling, servile, second race of heaven.”
-
-“And must I then (said she), O sire of floods!
-Bear this fierce answer to the king of gods?
-Correct it yet, and change thy rash intent;
-A noble mind disdains not to repent.
-To elder brothers guardian fiends are given,
-To scourge the wretch insulting them and heaven.”
-
-“Great is the profit (thus the god rejoin’d)
-When ministers are blest with prudent mind:
-Warn’d by thy words, to powerful Jove I yield,
-And quit, though angry, the contended field:
-Not but his threats with justice I disclaim,
-The same our honours, and our birth the same.
-If yet, forgetful of his promise given
-To Hermes, Pallas, and the queen of heaven,
-To favour Ilion, that perfidious place,
-He breaks his faith with half the ethereal race;
-Give him to know, unless the Grecian train
-Lay yon proud structures level with the plain,
-Howe’er the offence by other gods be pass’d,
-The wrath of Neptune shall for ever last.”
-
-Thus speaking, furious from the field he strode,
-And plunged into the bosom of the flood.
-The lord of thunders, from his lofty height
-Beheld, and thus bespoke the source of light:
-
-“Behold! the god whose liquid arms are hurl’d
-Around the globe, whose earthquakes rock the world,
-Desists at length his rebel-war to wage,
-Seeks his own seas, and trembles at our rage;
-Else had my wrath, heaven’s thrones all shaking round,
-Burn’d to the bottom of his seas profound;
-And all the gods that round old Saturn dwell
-Had heard the thunders to the deeps of hell.
-Well was the crime, and well the vengeance spared;
-Even power immense had found such battle hard.
-Go thou, my son! the trembling Greeks alarm,
-Shake my broad ægis on thy active arm,
-Be godlike Hector thy peculiar care,
-Swell his bold heart, and urge his strength to war:
-Let Ilion conquer, till the Achaian train
-Fly to their ships and Hellespont again:
-Then Greece shall breathe from toils.” The godhead said;
-His will divine the son of Jove obey’d.
-Not half so swift the sailing falcon flies,
-That drives a turtle through the liquid skies,
-As Phœbus, shooting from the Idaean brow,
-Glides down the mountain to the plain below.
-There Hector seated by the stream he sees,
-His sense returning with the coming breeze;
-Again his pulses beat, his spirits rise;
-Again his loved companions meet his eyes;
-Jove thinking of his pains, they pass’d away,
-To whom the god who gives the golden day:
-
-“Why sits great Hector from the field so far?
-What grief, what wound, withholds thee from the war?”
-
-The fainting hero, as the vision bright
-Stood shining o’er him, half unseal’d his sight:
-
-“What blest immortal, with commanding breath,
-Thus wakens Hector from the sleep of death?
-Has fame not told, how, while my trusty sword
-Bathed Greece in slaughter, and her battle gored,
-The mighty Ajax with a deadly blow
-Had almost sunk me to the shades below?
-Even yet, methinks, the gliding ghosts I spy,
-And hell’s black horrors swim before my eye.”
-
-To him Apollo: “Be no more dismay’d;
-See, and be strong! the Thunderer sends thee aid.
-Behold! thy Phœbus shall his arms employ,
-Phœbus, propitious still to thee and Troy.
-Inspire thy warriors then with manly force,
-And to the ships impel thy rapid horse:
-Even I will make thy fiery coursers way,
-And drive the Grecians headlong to the sea.”
-
-Thus to bold Hector spoke the son of Jove,
-And breathed immortal ardour from above.
-As when the pamper’d steed, with reins unbound,
-Breaks from his stall, and pours along the ground;
-With ample strokes he rushes to the flood,
-To bathe his sides, and cool his fiery blood;
-His head, now freed, he tosses to the skies;
-His mane dishevell’d o’er his shoulders flies:
-He snuffs the females in the well-known plain,
-And springs, exulting, to his fields again:
-Urged by the voice divine, thus Hector flew,
-Full of the god; and all his hosts pursue.
-As when the force of men and dogs combined
-Invade the mountain goat, or branching hind;
-Far from the hunter’s rage secure they lie
-Close in the rock, (not fated yet to die)
-When lo! a lion shoots across the way!
-They fly: at once the chasers and the prey.
-So Greece, that late in conquering troops pursued,
-And mark’d their progress through the ranks in blood,
-Soon as they see the furious chief appear,
-Forget to vanquish, and consent to fear.
-
-Thoas with grief observed his dreadful course,
-Thoas, the bravest of the Ætolian force;
-Skill’d to direct the javelin’s distant flight,
-And bold to combat in the standing fight,
-Not more in councils famed for solid sense,
-Than winning words and heavenly eloquence.
-“Gods! what portent (he cried) these eyes invades?
-Lo! Hector rises from the Stygian shades!
-We saw him, late, by thundering Ajax kill’d:
-What god restores him to the frighted field;
-And not content that half of Greece lie slain,
-Pours new destruction on her sons again?
-He comes not, Jove! without thy powerful will;
-Lo! still he lives, pursues, and conquers still!
-Yet hear my counsel, and his worst withstand:
-The Greeks’ main body to the fleet command;
-But let the few whom brisker spirits warm,
-Stand the first onset, and provoke the storm.
-Thus point your arms; and when such foes appear,
-Fierce as he is, let Hector learn to fear.”
-
-The warrior spoke; the listening Greeks obey,
-Thickening their ranks, and form a deep array.
-
-Each Ajax, Teucer, Merion gave command,
-The valiant leader of the Cretan band;
-And Mars-like Meges: these the chiefs excite,
-Approach the foe, and meet the coming fight.
-Behind, unnumber’d multitudes attend,
-To flank the navy, and the shores defend.
-Full on the front the pressing Trojans bear,
-And Hector first came towering to the war.
-Phœbus himself the rushing battle led;
-A veil of clouds involved his radiant head:
-High held before him, Jove’s enormous shield
-Portentous shone, and shaded all the field;
-Vulcan to Jove the immortal gift consign’d,
-To scatter hosts and terrify mankind,
-The Greeks expect the shock, the clamours rise
-From different parts, and mingle in the skies.
-Dire was the hiss of darts, by heroes flung,
-And arrows leaping from the bow-string sung;
-These drink the life of generous warriors slain:
-Those guiltless fall, and thirst for blood in vain.
-As long as Phœbus bore unmoved the shield,
-Sat doubtful conquest hovering o’er the field;
-But when aloft he shakes it in the skies,
-Shouts in their ears, and lightens in their eyes,
-Deep horror seizes every Grecian breast,
-Their force is humbled, and their fear confess’d.
-So flies a herd of oxen, scatter’d wide,
-No swain to guard them, and no day to guide,
-When two fell lions from the mountain come,
-And spread the carnage through the shady gloom.
-Impending Phœbus pours around them fear,
-And Troy and Hector thunder in the rear.
-Heaps fall on heaps: the slaughter Hector leads,
-First great Arcesilas, then Stichius bleeds;
-One to the bold Bœotians ever dear,
-And one Menestheus’ friend and famed compeer.
-Medon and Iasus, Æneas sped;
-This sprang from Phelus, and the Athenians led;
-But hapless Medon from Oïleus came;
-Him Ajax honour’d with a brother’s name,
-Though born of lawless love: from home expell’d,
-A banish’d man, in Phylacè he dwell’d,
-Press’d by the vengeance of an angry wife;
-Troy ends at last his labours and his life.
-Mecystes next Polydamas o’erthrew;
-And thee, brave Clonius, great Agenor slew.
-By Paris, Deiochus inglorious dies,
-Pierced through the shoulder as he basely flies.
-Polites’ arm laid Echius on the plain;
-Stretch’d on one heap, the victors spoil the slain.
-The Greeks dismay’d, confused, disperse or fall,
-Some seek the trench, some skulk behind the wall.
-While these fly trembling, others pant for breath,
-And o’er the slaughter stalks gigantic death.
-On rush’d bold Hector, gloomy as the night;
-Forbids to plunder, animates the fight,
-Points to the fleet: “For, by the gods! who flies,[240]
-Who dares but linger, by this hand he dies;
-No weeping sister his cold eye shall close,
-No friendly hand his funeral pyre compose.
-Who stops to plunder at this signal hour,
-The birds shall tear him, and the dogs devour.”
-Furious he said; the smarting scourge resounds;
-The coursers fly; the smoking chariot bounds;
-The hosts rush on; loud clamours shake the shore;
-The horses thunder, earth and ocean roar!
-Apollo, planted at the trench’s bound,
-Push’d at the bank: down sank the enormous mound:
-Roll’d in the ditch the heapy ruin lay;
-A sudden road! a long and ample way.
-O’er the dread fosse (a late impervious space)
-Now steeds, and men, and cars tumultuous pass.
-The wondering crowds the downward level trod;
-Before them flamed the shield, and march’d the god.
-Then with his hand he shook the mighty wall;
-And lo! the turrets nod, the bulwarks fall:
-Easy as when ashore an infant stands,
-And draws imagined houses in the sands;
-The sportive wanton, pleased with some new play,
-Sweeps the slight works and fashion’d domes away:
-Thus vanish’d at thy touch, the towers and walls;
-The toil of thousands in a moment falls.
-
-The Grecians gaze around with wild despair,
-Confused, and weary all the powers with prayer:
-Exhort their men, with praises, threats, commands;
-And urge the gods, with voices, eyes, and hands.
-Experienced Nestor chief obtests the skies,
-And weeps his country with a father’s eyes.
-
-“O Jove! if ever, on his native shore,
-One Greek enrich’d thy shrine with offer’d gore;
-If e’er, in hope our country to behold,
-We paid the fattest firstlings of the fold;
-If e’er thou sign’st our wishes with thy nod:
-Perform the promise of a gracious god!
-This day preserve our navies from the flame,
-And save the relics of the Grecian name.”
-
-Thus prayed the sage: the eternal gave consent,
-And peals of thunder shook the firmament.
-Presumptuous Troy mistook the accepting sign,
-And catch’d new fury at the voice divine.
-As, when black tempests mix the seas and skies,
-The roaring deeps in watery mountains rise,
-Above the sides of some tall ship ascend,
-Its womb they deluge, and its ribs they rend:
-Thus loudly roaring, and o’erpowering all,
-Mount the thick Trojans up the Grecian wall;
-Legions on legions from each side arise:
-Thick sound the keels; the storm of arrows flies.
-Fierce on the ships above, the cars below,
-These wield the mace, and those the javelin throw.
-
-While thus the thunder of the battle raged,
-And labouring armies round the works engaged,
-Still in the tent Patroclus sat to tend
-The good Eurypylus, his wounded friend.
-He sprinkles healing balms, to anguish kind,
-And adds discourse, the medicine of the mind.
-But when he saw, ascending up the fleet,
-Victorious Troy; then, starting from his seat,
-With bitter groans his sorrows he express’d,
-He wrings his hands, he beats his manly breast.
-“Though yet thy state require redress (he cries)
-Depart I must: what horrors strike my eyes!
-Charged with Achilles’ high command I go,
-A mournful witness of this scene of woe;
-I haste to urge him by his country’s care
-To rise in arms, and shine again in war.
-Perhaps some favouring god his soul may bend;
-The voice is powerful of a faithful friend.”
-
-He spoke; and, speaking, swifter than the wind
-Sprung from the tent, and left the war behind.
-The embodied Greeks the fierce attack sustain,
-But strive, though numerous, to repulse in vain:
-Nor could the Trojans, through that firm array,
-Force to the fleet and tents the impervious way.
-As when a shipwright, with Palladian art,
-Smooths the rough wood, and levels every part;
-With equal hand he guides his whole design,
-By the just rule, and the directing line:
-The martial leaders, with like skill and care,
-Preserved their line, and equal kept the war.
-Brave deeds of arms through all the ranks were tried,
-And every ship sustained an equal tide.
-At one proud bark, high-towering o’er the fleet,
-Ajax the great, and godlike Hector meet;
-For one bright prize the matchless chiefs contend,
-Nor this the ships can fire, nor that defend:
-One kept the shore, and one the vessel trod;
-That fix’d as fate, this acted by a god.
-The son of Clytius in his daring hand,
-The deck approaching, shakes a flaming brand;
-But, pierced by Telamon’s huge lance, expires:
-Thundering he falls, and drops the extinguish’d fires.
-Great Hector view’d him with a sad survey,
-As stretch’d in dust before the stern he lay.
-“Oh! all of Trojan, all of Lycian race!
-Stand to your arms, maintain this arduous space:
-Lo! where the son of royal Clytius lies;
-Ah, save his arms, secure his obsequies!”
-
-This said, his eager javelin sought the foe:
-But Ajax shunn’d the meditated blow.
-Not vainly yet the forceful lance was thrown;
-It stretch’d in dust unhappy Lycophron:
-An exile long, sustain’d at Ajax’ board,
-A faithful servant to a foreign lord;
-In peace, and war, for ever at his side,
-Near his loved master, as he lived, he died.
-From the high poop he tumbles on the sand,
-And lies a lifeless load along the land.
-With anguish Ajax views the piercing sight,
-And thus inflames his brother to the fight:
-
-“Teucer, behold! extended on the shore
-Our friend, our loved companion! now no more!
-Dear as a parent, with a parent’s care
-To fight our wars he left his native air.
-This death deplored, to Hector’s rage we owe;
-Revenge, revenge it on the cruel foe.
-Where are those darts on which the fates attend?
-And where the bow which Phœbus taught to bend?”
-
-Impatient Teucer, hastening to his aid,
-Before the chief his ample bow display’d;
-The well-stored quiver on his shoulders hung:
-Then hiss’d his arrow, and the bowstring sung.
-Clytus, Pisenor’s son, renown’d in fame,
-(To thee, Polydamas! an honour’d name)
-Drove through the thickest of the embattled plains
-The startling steeds, and shook his eager reins.
-As all on glory ran his ardent mind,
-The pointed death arrests him from behind:
-Through his fair neck the thrilling arrow flies;
-In youth’s first bloom reluctantly he dies.
-Hurl’d from the lofty seat, at distance far,
-The headlong coursers spurn his empty car;
-Till sad Polydamas the steeds restrain’d,
-And gave, Astynous, to thy careful hand;
-Then, fired to vengeance, rush’d amidst the foe:
-Rage edged his sword, and strengthen’d every blow.
-
-Once more bold Teucer, in his country’s cause,
-At Hector’s breast a chosen arrow draws:
-And had the weapon found the destined way,
-Thy fall, great Trojan! had renown’d that day.
-But Hector was not doom’d to perish then:
-The all-wise disposer of the fates of men
-(Imperial Jove) his present death withstands;
-Nor was such glory due to Teucer’s hands.
-At its full stretch as the tough string he drew,
-Struck by an arm unseen, it burst in two;
-Down dropp’d the bow: the shaft with brazen head
-Fell innocent, and on the dust lay dead.
-The astonish’d archer to great Ajax cries;
-“Some god prevents our destined enterprise:
-Some god, propitious to the Trojan foe,
-Has, from my arm unfailing, struck the bow,
-And broke the nerve my hands had twined with art,
-Strong to impel the flight of many a dart.”
-
-“Since heaven commands it (Ajax made reply)
-Dismiss the bow, and lay thy arrows by:
-Thy arms no less suffice the lance to wield,
-And quit the quiver for the ponderous shield.
-In the first ranks indulge thy thirst of fame,
-Thy brave example shall the rest inflame.
-Fierce as they are, by long successes vain;
-To force our fleet, or even a ship to gain,
-Asks toil, and sweat, and blood: their utmost might
-Shall find its match—No more: ’tis ours to fight.”
-
-Then Teucer laid his faithless bow aside;
-The fourfold buckler o’er his shoulder tied;
-On his brave head a crested helm he placed,
-With nodding horse-hair formidably graced;
-A dart, whose point with brass refulgent shines,
-The warrior wields; and his great brother joins.
-
-This Hector saw, and thus express’d his joy:
-“Ye troops of Lycia, Dardanus, and Troy!
-Be mindful of yourselves, your ancient fame,
-And spread your glory with the navy’s flame.
-Jove is with us; I saw his hand, but now,
-From the proud archer strike his vaunted bow:
-Indulgent Jove! how plain thy favours shine,
-When happy nations bear the marks divine!
-How easy then, to see the sinking state
-Of realms accursed, deserted, reprobate!
-Such is the fate of Greece, and such is ours:
-Behold, ye warriors, and exert your powers.
-Death is the worst; a fate which all must try;
-And for our country, ’tis a bliss to die.
-The gallant man, though slain in fight he be,
-Yet leaves his nation safe, his children free;
-Entails a debt on all the grateful state;
-His own brave friends shall glory in his fate;
-His wife live honour’d, all his race succeed,
-And late posterity enjoy the deed!”
-
-This roused the soul in every Trojan breast:
-The godlike Ajax next his Greeks address’d:
-
-“How long, ye warriors of the Argive race,
-(To generous Argos what a dire disgrace!)
-How long on these cursed confines will ye lie,
-Yet undetermined, or to live or die?
-What hopes remain, what methods to retire,
-If once your vessels catch the Trojan fire?
-Mark how the flames approach, how near they fall,
-How Hector calls, and Troy obeys his call!
-Not to the dance that dreadful voice invites,
-It calls to death, and all the rage of fights.
-’Tis now no time for wisdom or debates;
-To your own hands are trusted all your fates;
-And better far in one decisive strife,
-One day should end our labour or our life,
-Than keep this hard-got inch of barren sands,
-Still press’d, and press’d by such inglorious hands.”
-
-The listening Grecians feel their leader’s flame,
-And every kindling bosom pants for fame.
-Then mutual slaughters spread on either side;
-By Hector here the Phocian Schedius died;
-There, pierced by Ajax, sunk Laodamas,
-Chief of the foot, of old Antenor’s race.
-Polydamas laid Otus on the sand,
-The fierce commander of the Epeian band.
-His lance bold Meges at the victor threw;
-The victor, stooping, from the death withdrew;
-(That valued life, O Phœbus! was thy care)
-But Croesmus’ bosom took the flying spear:
-His corpse fell bleeding on the slippery shore;
-His radiant arms triumphant Meges bore.
-Dolops, the son of Lampus, rushes on,
-Sprung from the race of old Laomedon,
-And famed for prowess in a well-fought field,
-He pierced the centre of his sounding shield:
-But Meges, Phyleus’ ample breastplate wore,
-(Well-known in fight on Sellè’s winding shore;
-For king Euphetes gave the golden mail,
-Compact, and firm with many a jointed scale)
-Which oft, in cities storm’d, and battles won,
-Had saved the father, and now saves the son.
-Full at the Trojan’s head he urged his lance,
-Where the high plumes above the helmet dance,
-New ting’d with Tyrian dye: in dust below,
-Shorn from the crest, the purple honours glow.
-Meantime their fight the Spartan king survey’d,
-And stood by Meges’ side a sudden aid.
-Through Dolops’ shoulder urged his forceful dart,
-Which held its passage through the panting heart,
-And issued at his breast. With thundering sound
-The warrior falls, extended on the ground.
-In rush the conquering Greeks to spoil the slain:
-But Hector’s voice excites his kindred train;
-The hero most, from Hicetaon sprung,
-Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and young.
-He (ere to Troy the Grecians cross’d the main)
-Fed his large oxen on Percotè’s plain;
-But when oppress’d, his country claim’d his care,
-Return’d to Ilion, and excell’d in war;
-For this, in Priam’s court, he held his place,
-Beloved no less than Priam’s royal race.
-Him Hector singled, as his troops he led,
-And thus inflamed him, pointing to the dead.
-
-“Lo, Melanippus! lo, where Dolops lies;
-And is it thus our royal kinsman dies?
-O’ermatch’d he falls; to two at once a prey,
-And lo! they bear the bloody arms away!
-Come on—a distant war no longer wage,
-But hand to hand thy country’s foes engage:
-Till Greece at once, and all her glory end;
-Or Ilion from her towery height descend,
-Heaved from the lowest stone; and bury all
-In one sad sepulchre, one common fall.”
-
-Hector (this said) rush’d forward on the foes:
-With equal ardour Melanippus glows:
-Then Ajax thus—“O Greeks! respect your fame,
-Respect yourselves, and learn an honest shame:
-Let mutual reverence mutual warmth inspire,
-And catch from breast to breast the noble fire,
-On valour’s side the odds of combat lie;
-The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
-The wretch that trembles in the field of fame,
-Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame.”
-
-His generous sense he not in vain imparts;
-It sunk, and rooted in the Grecian hearts:
-They join, they throng, they thicken at his call,
-And flank the navy with a brazen wall;
-Shields touching shields, in order blaze above,
-And stop the Trojans, though impell’d by Jove.
-The fiery Spartan first, with loud applause.
-Warms the bold son of Nestor in his cause.
-“Is there (he said) in arms a youth like you,
-So strong to fight, so active to pursue?
-Why stand you distant, nor attempt a deed?
-Lift the bold lance, and make some Trojan bleed.”
-
-He said; and backward to the lines retired;
-Forth rush’d the youth with martial fury fired,
-Beyond the foremost ranks; his lance he threw,
-And round the black battalions cast his view.
-The troops of Troy recede with sudden fear,
-While the swift javelin hiss’d along in air.
-Advancing Melanippus met the dart
-With his bold breast, and felt it in his heart:
-Thundering he falls; his falling arms resound,
-And his broad buckler rings against the ground.
-The victor leaps upon his prostrate prize:
-Thus on a roe the well-breath’d beagle flies,
-And rends his side, fresh-bleeding with the dart
-The distant hunter sent into his heart.
-Observing Hector to the rescue flew;
-Bold as he was, Antilochus withdrew.
-So when a savage, ranging o’er the plain,
-Has torn the shepherd’s dog, or shepherd’s swain,
-While conscious of the deed, he glares around,
-And hears the gathering multitude resound,
-Timely he flies the yet-untasted food,
-And gains the friendly shelter of the wood:
-So fears the youth; all Troy with shouts pursue,
-While stones and darts in mingled tempest flew;
-But enter’d in the Grecian ranks, he turns
-His manly breast, and with new fury burns.
-
-Now on the fleet the tides of Trojans drove,
-Fierce to fulfil the stern decrees of Jove:
-The sire of gods, confirming Thetis’ prayer,
-The Grecian ardour quench’d in deep despair;
-But lifts to glory Troy’s prevailing bands,
-Swells all their hearts, and strengthens all their hands.
-On Ida’s top he waits with longing eyes,
-To view the navy blazing to the skies;
-Then, nor till then, the scale of war shall turn,
-The Trojans fly, and conquer’d Ilion burn.
-These fates revolved in his almighty mind,
-He raises Hector to the work design’d,
-Bids him with more than mortal fury glow,
-And drives him, like a lightning, on the foe.
-So Mars, when human crimes for vengeance call,
-Shakes his huge javelin, and whole armies fall.
-Not with more rage a conflagration rolls,
-Wraps the vast mountains, and involves the poles.
-He foams with wrath; beneath his gloomy brow
-Like fiery meteors his red eye-balls glow:
-The radiant helmet on his temple burns,
-Waves when he nods, and lightens as he turns:
-For Jove his splendour round the chief had thrown,
-And cast the blaze of both the hosts on one.
-Unhappy glories! for his fate was near,
-Due to stern Pallas, and Pelides’ spear:
-Yet Jove deferr’d the death he was to pay,
-And gave what fate allow’d, the honours of a day!
-
-Now all on fire for fame, his breast, his eyes
-Burn at each foe, and single every prize;
-Still at the closest ranks, the thickest fight,
-He points his ardour, and exerts his might.
-The Grecian phalanx, moveless as a tower,
-On all sides batter’d, yet resists his power:
-So some tall rock o’erhangs the hoary main,[241]
-By winds assail’d, by billows beat in vain,
-Unmoved it hears, above, the tempest blow,
-And sees the watery mountains break below.
-Girt in surrounding flames, he seems to fall
-Like fire from Jove, and bursts upon them all:
-Bursts as a wave that from the cloud impends,
-And, swell’d with tempests, on the ship descends;
-White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
-Howl o’er the masts, and sing through every shroud:
-Pale, trembling, tired, the sailors freeze with fears;
-And instant death on every wave appears.
-So pale the Greeks the eyes of Hector meet,
-The chief so thunders, and so shakes the fleet.
-
-As when a lion, rushing from his den,
-Amidst the plain of some wide-water’d fen,
-(Where numerous oxen, as at ease they feed,
-At large expatiate o’er the ranker mead)
-Leaps on the herds before the herdsman’s eyes;
-The trembling herdsman far to distance flies;
-Some lordly bull (the rest dispersed and fled)
-He singles out; arrests, and lays him dead.
-Thus from the rage of Jove-like Hector flew
-All Greece in heaps; but one he seized, and slew:
-Mycenian Periphes, a mighty name,
-In wisdom great, in arms well known to fame;
-The minister of stern Eurystheus’ ire
-Against Alcides, Copreus was his sire:
-The son redeem’d the honours of the race,
-A son as generous as the sire was base;
-O’er all his country’s youth conspicuous far
-In every virtue, or of peace or war:
-But doom’d to Hector’s stronger force to yield!
-Against the margin of his ample shield
-He struck his hasty foot: his heels up-sprung;
-Supine he fell; his brazen helmet rung.
-On the fallen chief the invading Trojan press’d,
-And plunged the pointed javelin in his breast.
-His circling friends, who strove to guard too late
-The unhappy hero, fled, or shared his fate.
-
-Chased from the foremost line, the Grecian train
-Now man the next, receding toward the main:
-Wedged in one body at the tents they stand,
-Wall’d round with sterns, a gloomy, desperate band.
-Now manly shame forbids the inglorious flight;
-Now fear itself confines them to the fight:
-Man courage breathes in man; but Nestor most
-(The sage preserver of the Grecian host)
-Exhorts, adjures, to guard these utmost shores;
-And by their parents, by themselves implores.
-
-“Oh friends! be men: your generous breasts inflame
-With mutual honour, and with mutual shame!
-Think of your hopes, your fortunes; all the care
-Your wives, your infants, and your parents share:
-Think of each living father’s reverend head;
-Think of each ancestor with glory dead;
-Absent, by me they speak, by me they sue,
-They ask their safety, and their fame, from you:
-The gods their fates on this one action lay,
-And all are lost, if you desert the day.”
-
-He spoke, and round him breathed heroic fires;
-Minerva seconds what the sage inspires.
-The mist of darkness Jove around them threw
-She clear’d, restoring all the war to view;
-A sudden ray shot beaming o’er the plain,
-And show’d the shores, the navy, and the main:
-Hector they saw, and all who fly, or fight,
-The scene wide-opening to the blaze of light,
-First of the field great Ajax strikes their eyes,
-His port majestic, and his ample size:
-A ponderous mace with studs of iron crown’d,
-Full twenty cubits long, he swings around;
-Nor fights, like others, fix’d to certain stands
-But looks a moving tower above the bands;
-High on the decks with vast gigantic stride,
-The godlike hero stalks from side to side.
-So when a horseman from the watery mead
-(Skill’d in the manage of the bounding steed)
-Drives four fair coursers, practised to obey,
-To some great city through the public way;
-Safe in his art, as side by side they run,
-He shifts his seat, and vaults from one to one;
-And now to this, and now to that he flies;
-Admiring numbers follow with their eyes.
-
-From ship to ship thus Ajax swiftly flew,
-No less the wonder of the warring crew.
-As furious, Hector thunder’d threats aloud,
-And rush’d enraged before the Trojan crowd;
-Then swift invades the ships, whose beaky prores
-Lay rank’d contiguous on the bending shores;
-So the strong eagle from his airy height,
-Who marks the swans’ or cranes’ embodied flight,
-Stoops down impetuous, while they light for food,
-And, stooping, darkens with his wings the flood.
-Jove leads him on with his almighty hand,
-And breathes fierce spirits in his following band.
-The warring nations meet, the battle roars,
-Thick beats the combat on the sounding prores.
-Thou wouldst have thought, so furious was their fire,
-No force could tame them, and no toil could tire;
-As if new vigour from new fights they won,
-And the long battle was but then begun.
-Greece, yet unconquer’d, kept alive the war,
-Secure of death, confiding in despair:
-Troy in proud hopes already view’d the main
-Bright with the blaze, and red with heroes slain:
-Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair,
-And each contends, as his were all the war.
-
-’Twas thou, bold Hector! whose resistless hand
-First seized a ship on that contested strand;
-The same which dead Protesilaüs bore,[242]
-The first that touch’d the unhappy Trojan shore:
-For this in arms the warring nations stood,
-And bathed their generous breasts with mutual blood.
-No room to poise the lance or bend the bow;
-But hand to hand, and man to man, they grow:
-Wounded, they wound; and seek each other’s hearts
-With falchions, axes, swords, and shorten’d darts.
-The falchions ring, shields rattle, axes sound,
-Swords flash in air, or glitter on the ground;
-With streaming blood the slippery shores are dyed,
-And slaughter’d heroes swell the dreadful tide.
-
-Still raging, Hector with his ample hand
-Grasps the high stern, and gives this loud command:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] AJAX DEFENDING THE GREEK SHIPS
-
-
-“Haste, bring the flames! that toil of ten long years
-Is finished; and the day desired appears!
-This happy day with acclamations greet,
-Bright with destruction of yon hostile fleet.
-The coward-counsels of a timorous throng
-Of reverend dotards check’d our glory long:
-Too long Jove lull’d us with lethargic charms,
-But now in peals of thunder calls to arms:
-In this great day he crowns our full desires,
-Wakes all our force, and seconds all our fires.”
-
-He spoke—the warriors at his fierce command
-Pour a new deluge on the Grecian band.
-Even Ajax paused, (so thick the javelins fly,)
-Stepp’d back, and doubted or to live or die.
-Yet, where the oars are placed, he stands to wait
-What chief approaching dares attempt his fate:
-Even to the last his naval charge defends,
-Now shakes his spear, now lifts, and now protends;
-Even yet, the Greeks with piercing shouts inspires,
-Amidst attacks, and deaths, and darts, and fires.
-
-“O friends! O heroes! names for ever dear,
-Once sons of Mars, and thunderbolts of war!
-Ah! yet be mindful of your old renown,
-Your great forefathers’ virtues and your own.
-What aids expect you in this utmost strait?
-What bulwarks rising between you and fate?
-No aids, no bulwarks your retreat attend,
-No friends to help, no city to defend.
-This spot is all you have, to lose or keep;
-There stand the Trojans, and here rolls the deep.
-’Tis hostile ground you tread; your native lands
-Far, far from hence: your fates are in your hands.”
-
-Raging he spoke; nor further wastes his breath,
-But turns his javelin to the work of death.
-Whate’er bold Trojan arm’d his daring hands,
-Against the sable ships, with flaming brands,
-So well the chief his naval weapon sped,
-The luckless warrior at his stern lay dead:
-Full twelve, the boldest, in a moment fell,
-Sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] CASTOR AND POLLUX
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XVI.
-
-
-ARGUMENT
-
-
-THE SIXTH BATTLE, THE ACTS AND DEATH OF PATROCLUS
-
-
-Patroclus (in pursuance of the request of Nestor in the eleventh book)
-entreats Achilles to suffer him to go to the assistance of the Greeks
-with Achilles’ troops and armour. He agrees to it, but at the same time
-charges him to content himself with rescuing the fleet, without further
-pursuit of the enemy. The armour, horses, soldiers, and officers are
-described. Achilles offers a libation for the success of his friend,
-after which Patroclus leads the Myrmidons to battle. The Trojans, at
-the sight of Patroclus in Achilles’ armour, taking him for that hero,
-are cast into the uttermost consternation; he beats them off from the
-vessels, Hector himself flies, Sarpedon is killed, though Jupiter was
-averse to his fate. Several other particulars of the battle are
-described; in the heat of which, Patroclus, neglecting the orders of
-Achilles, pursues the foe to the walls of Troy, where Apollo repulses
-and disarms him, Euphorbus wounds him, and Hector kills him, which
-concludes the book.
-
-
-So warr’d both armies on the ensanguined shore,
-While the black vessels smoked with human gore.
-Meantime Patroclus to Achilles flies;
-The streaming tears fall copious from his eyes.
-Not faster, trickling to the plains below,
-From the tall rock the sable waters flow.
-Divine Pelides, with compassion moved.
-Thus spoke, indulgent, to his best beloved:[243]
-
-“Patroclus, say, what grief thy bosom bears,
-That flows so fast in these unmanly tears?
-No girl, no infant whom the mother keeps
-From her loved breast, with fonder passion weeps;
-Not more the mother’s soul, that infant warms,
-Clung to her knees, and reaching at her arms,
-Than thou hast mine! Oh tell me, to what end
-Thy melting sorrows thus pursue thy friend?
-
-“Griev’st thou for me, or for my martial band?
-Or come sad tidings from our native land?
-Our fathers live (our first, most tender care),
-Thy good Menoetius breathes the vital air,
-And hoary Peleus yet extends his days;
-Pleased in their age to hear their children’s praise.
-Or may some meaner cause thy pity claim?
-Perhaps yon relics of the Grecian name,
-Doom’d in their ships to sink by fire and sword,
-And pay the forfeit of their haughty lord?
-Whate’er the cause, reveal thy secret care,
-And speak those sorrows which a friend would share.”
-A sigh that instant from his bosom broke,
-Another follow’d, and Patroclus spoke:
-
-“Let Greece at length with pity touch thy breast,
-Thyself a Greek; and, once, of Greeks the best!
-Lo! every chief that might her fate prevent,
-Lies pierced with wounds, and bleeding in his tent:
-Eurypylus, Tydides, Atreus’ son,
-And wise Ulysses, at the navy groan,
-More for their country’s wounds than for their own.
-Their pain soft arts of pharmacy can ease,
-Thy breast alone no lenitives appease.
-May never rage like thine my soul enslave,
-O great in vain! unprofitably brave!
-Thy country slighted in her last distress,
-What friend, what man, from thee shall hope redress?
-No—men unborn, and ages yet behind,
-Shall curse that fierce, that unforgiving mind.
-
-“O man unpitying! if of man thy race;
-But sure thou spring’st not from a soft embrace,
-Nor ever amorous hero caused thy birth,
-Nor ever tender goddess brought thee forth:
-Some rugged rock’s hard entrails gave thee form,
-And raging seas produced thee in a storm,
-A soul well suiting that tempestuous kind,
-So rough thy manners, so untamed thy mind.
-
-“If some dire oracle thy breast alarm,
-If aught from Jove, or Thetis, stop thy arm,
-Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine,
-If I but lead the Myrmidonian line:
-Clad in thy dreadful arms if I appear,
-Proud Troy shall tremble, and desert the war;
-Without thy person Greece shall win the day,
-And thy mere image chase her foes away.
-Press’d by fresh forces, her o’erlabour’d train
-Shall quit the ships, and Greece respire again.”
-Thus, blind to fate! with supplicating breath,
-Thou begg’st his arms, and in his arms thy death.
-Unfortunately good! a boding sigh
-Thy friend return’d; and with it, this reply:
-“Patroclus! thy Achilles knows no fears;
-Nor words from Jove nor oracles he hears;
-Nor aught a mother’s caution can suggest;
-The tyrant’s pride lies rooted in my breast.
-My wrongs, my wrongs, my constant thought engage,
-Those, my sole oracles, inspire my rage:
-I made him tyrant: gave him power to wrong
-Even me: I felt it; and shall feel it long.
-The maid, my black-eyed maid, he forced away,
-Due to the toils of many a well-fought day;
-Due to my conquest of her father’s reign;
-Due to the votes of all the Grecian train.
-From me he forced her; me, the bold and brave,
-Disgraced, dishonour’d, like the meanest slave.
-But bear we this—the wrongs I grieve are past;
-’Tis time our fury should relent at last:
-I fix’d its date; the day I wish’d appears:
-How Hector to my ships his battle bears,
-The flames my eyes, the shouts invade my ears.
-Go then, Patroclus! court fair honour’s charms
-In Troy’s famed fields, and in Achilles’ arms:
-Lead forth my martial Myrmidons to fight,
-Go save the fleets, and conquer in my right.
-See the thin relics of their baffled band
-At the last edge of yon deserted land!
-Behold all Ilion on their ships descends;
-How the cloud blackens, how the storm impends!
-It was not thus, when, at my sight amazed,
-Troy saw and trembled, as this helmet blazed:
-Had not the injurious king our friendship lost,
-Yon ample trench had buried half her host.
-No camps, no bulwarks now the Trojans fear,
-Those are not dreadful, no Achilles there;
-No longer flames the lance of Tydeus’ son;
-No more your general calls his heroes on:
-Hector, alone, I hear; his dreadful breath
-Commands your slaughter, or proclaims your death.
-Yet now, Patroclus, issue to the plain:
-Now save the ships, the rising fires restrain,
-And give the Greeks to visit Greece again.
-But heed my words, and mark a friend’s command,
-Who trusts his fame and honours in thy hand,
-And from thy deeds expects the Achaian host
-Shall render back the beauteous maid he lost:
-Rage uncontroll’d through all the hostile crew,
-But touch not Hector, Hector is my due.
-Though Jove in thunder should command the war,
-Be just, consult my glory, and forbear.
-The fleet once saved, desist from further chase,
-Nor lead to Ilion’s walls the Grecian race;
-Some adverse god thy rashness may destroy;
-Some god, like Phœbus, ever kind to Troy.
-Let Greece, redeem’d from this destructive strait,
-Do her own work; and leave the rest to fate.
-O! would to all the immortal powers above,
-Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove!
-That not one Trojan might be left alive,
-And not a Greek of all the race survive:
-Might only we the vast destruction shun,
-And only we destroy the accursed town!”
-Such conference held the chiefs; while on the strand
-Great Jove with conquest crown’d the Trojan band.
-Ajax no more the sounding storm sustain’d,
-So thick the darts an iron tempest rain’d:
-On his tired arm the weighty buckler hung;
-His hollow helm with falling javelins rung;
-His breath, in quick short pantings, comes and goes;
-And painful sweat from all his members flows.
-Spent and o’erpower’d, he barely breathes at most;
-Yet scarce an army stirs him from his post;
-Dangers on dangers all around him glow,
-And toil to toil, and woe succeeds to woe.
-
-Say, Muses, throned above the starry frame,
-How first the navy blazed with Trojan flame?
-
-Stern Hector waved his sword, and standing near,
-Where furious Ajax plied his ashen spear,
-Full on the lance a stroke so justly sped,
-That the broad falchion lopp’d its brazen head;
-His pointless spear the warrior shakes in vain;
-The brazen head falls sounding on the plain.
-Great Ajax saw, and own’d the hand divine;
-Confessing Jove, and trembling at the sign,
-Warn’d he retreats. Then swift from all sides pour
-The hissing brands; thick streams the fiery shower;
-O’er the high stern the curling volumes rise,
-And sheets of rolling smoke involve the skies.
-
-Divine Achilles view’d the rising flames,
-And smote his thigh, and thus aloud exclaims:
-“Arm, arm, Patroclus! Lo, the blaze aspires!
-The glowing ocean reddens with the fires.
-Arm, ere our vessels catch the spreading flame;
-Arm, ere the Grecians be no more a name;
-I haste to bring the troops.”—The hero said;
-The friend with ardour and with joy obey’d.
-
-He cased his limbs in brass; and first around
-His manly legs, with silver buckles bound
-The clasping greaves; then to his breast applies
-The flaming cuirass of a thousand dyes;
-Emblazed with studs of gold his falchion shone
-In the rich belt, as in a starry zone:
-Achilles’ shield his ample shoulders spread,
-Achilles’ helmet nodded o’er his head:
-Adorn’d in all his terrible array,
-He flash’d around intolerable day.
-Alone untouch’d, Pelides’ javelin stands,
-Not to be poised but by Pelides’ hands:
-From Pelion’s shady brow the plant entire
-Old Chiron rent, and shaped it for his sire;
-Whose son’s great arm alone the weapon wields,
-The death of heroes, and the dread of fields.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] Buckles
-
-
-The brave Automedon (an honour’d name,
-The second to his lord in love and fame,
-In peace his friend, and partner of the war)
-The winged coursers harness’d to the car;
-Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed,
-Sprung from the wind, and like the wind in speed.
-Whom the wing’d harpy, swift Podarge, bore,
-By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy shore:
-Swift Pedasus was added to their side,
-(Once great Aëtion’s, now Achilles’ pride)
-Who, like in strength, in swiftness, and in grace,
-A mortal courser match’d the immortal race.
-
-Achilles speeds from tent to tent, and warms
-His hardy Myrmidons to blood and arms.
-All breathing death, around the chief they stand,
-A grim, terrific, formidable band:
-Grim as voracious wolves, that seek the springs[244]
-When scalding thirst their burning bowels wrings;
-When some tall stag, fresh-slaughtered in the wood,
-Has drench’d their wide insatiate throats with blood,
-To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng,
-With paunch distended, and with lolling tongue,
-Fire fills their eye, their black jaws belch the gore,
-And gorged with slaughter still they thirst for more.
-Like furious, rush’d the Myrmidonian crew,
-Such their dread strength, and such their deathful view.
-
-High in the midst the great Achilles stands,
-Directs their order, and the war commands.
-He, loved of Jove, had launch’d for Ilion’s shores
-Full fifty vessels, mann’d with fifty oars:
-Five chosen leaders the fierce bands obey,
-Himself supreme in valour, as in sway.
-
-First march’d Menestheus, of celestial birth,
-Derived from thee, whose waters wash the earth,
-Divine Sperchius! Jove-descended flood!
-A mortal mother mixing with a god.
-Such was Menestheus, but miscall’d by fame
-The son of Borus, that espoused the dame.
-
-Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay,
-Famed in the graceful dance, produced to-day.
-Her, sly Cellenius loved: on her would gaze,
-As with swift step she form’d the running maze:
-To her high chamber from Diana’s quire,
-The god pursued her, urged, and crown’d his fire.
-The son confess’d his father’s heavenly race,
-And heir’d his mother’s swiftness in the chase.
-Strong Echecleus, bless’d in all those charms
-That pleased a god, succeeded to her arms;
-Not conscious of those loves, long hid from fame,
-With gifts of price he sought and won the dame;
-Her secret offspring to her sire she bare;
-Her sire caress’d him with a parent’s care.
-
-Pisander follow’d; matchless in his art
-To wing the spear, or aim the distant dart;
-No hand so sure of all the Emathian line,
-Or if a surer, great Patroclus! thine.
-
-The fourth by Phœnix’ grave command was graced,
-Laerces’ valiant offspring led the last.
-
-Soon as Achilles with superior care
-Had call’d the chiefs, and order’d all the war,
-This stern remembrance to his troops he gave:
-“Ye far-famed Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave!
-Think with what threats you dared the Trojan throng,
-Think what reproach these ears endured so long;
-‘Stern son of Peleus, (thus ye used to say,
-While restless, raging, in your ships you lay)
-Oh nursed with gall, unknowing how to yield;
-Whose rage defrauds us of so famed a field:
-If that dire fury must for ever burn,
-What make we here? Return, ye chiefs, return!’
-Such were your words—Now, warriors! grieve no more,
-Lo there the Trojans; bathe your swords in gore!
-This day shall give you all your soul demands,
-Glut all your hearts, and weary all your hands!”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] DIANA
-
-
-Thus while he roused the fire in every breast,
-Close and more close the listening cohorts press’d;
-Ranks wedged in ranks; of arms a steely ring
-Still grows, and spreads, and thickens round the king.
-As when a circling wall the builder forms,
-Of strength defensive against wind and storms,
-Compacted stones the thickening work compose,
-And round him wide the rising structure grows:
-So helm to helm, and crest to crest they throng,
-Shield urged on shield, and man drove man along;
-Thick, undistinguish’d plumes, together join’d,
-Float in one sea, and wave before the wind.
-
-Far o’er the rest in glittering pomp appear,
-There bold Automedon, Patroclus here;
-Brothers in arms, with equal fury fired;
-Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired.
-
-But mindful of the gods, Achilles went
-To the rich coffer in his shady tent;
-There lay on heaps his various garments roll’d,
-And costly furs, and carpets stiff with gold,
-(The presents of the silver-footed dame)
-From thence he took a bowl, of antique frame,
-Which never man had stained with ruddy wine,
-Nor raised in offerings to the power divine,
-But Peleus’ son; and Peleus’ son to none
-Had raised in offerings, but to Jove alone.
-This tinged with sulphur, sacred first to flame,
-He purged; and wash’d it in the running stream.
-Then cleansed his hands; and fixing for a space
-His eyes on heaven, his feet upon the place
-Of sacrifice, the purple draught he pour’d
-Forth in the midst; and thus the god implored:
-
-“O thou supreme! high-throned all height above!
-O great Pelasgic, Dodonaean Jove!
-Who ’midst surrounding frosts, and vapours chill,
-Presid’st on bleak Dodona’s vocal hill:
-(Whose groves the Selli, race austere! surround,
-Their feet unwash’d, their slumbers on the ground;
-Who hear, from rustling oaks, thy dark decrees;
-And catch the fates, low-whispered in the breeze;)
-Hear, as of old! Thou gav’st, at Thetis’ prayer,
-Glory to me, and to the Greeks despair.
-Lo, to the dangers of the fighting field
-The best, the dearest of my friends, I yield,
-Though still determined, to my ships confined;
-Patroclus gone, I stay but half behind.
-Oh! be his guard thy providential care,
-Confirm his heart, and string his arm to war:
-Press’d by his single force let Hector see
-His fame in arms not owing all to me.
-But when the fleets are saved from foes and fire,
-Let him with conquest and renown retire;
-Preserve his arms, preserve his social train,
-And safe return him to these eyes again!”
-
-Great Jove consents to half the chief’s request,
-But heaven’s eternal doom denies the rest;
-To free the fleet was granted to his prayer;
-His safe return, the winds dispersed in air.
-Back to his tent the stern Achilles flies,
-And waits the combat with impatient eyes.
-
-Meanwhile the troops beneath Patroclus’ care,
-Invade the Trojans, and commence the war.
-As wasps, provoked by children in their play,
-Pour from their mansions by the broad highway,
-In swarms the guiltless traveller engage,
-Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage:
-All rise in arms, and, with a general cry,
-Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny.
-Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms,
-So loud their clamours, and so keen their arms:
-Their rising rage Patroclus’ breath inspires,
-Who thus inflames them with heroic fires:
-
-“O warriors, partners of Achilles’ praise!
-Be mindful of your deeds in ancient days;
-Your godlike master let your acts proclaim,
-And add new glories to his mighty name.
-Think your Achilles sees you fight: be brave,
-And humble the proud monarch whom you save.”
-
-Joyful they heard, and kindling as he spoke,
-Flew to the fleet, involved in fire and smoke.
-From shore to shore the doubling shouts resound,
-The hollow ships return a deeper sound.
-The war stood still, and all around them gazed,
-When great Achilles’ shining armour blazed:
-Troy saw, and thought the dread Achilles nigh,
-At once they see, they tremble, and they fly.
-
-Then first thy spear, divine Patroclus! flew,
-Where the war raged, and where the tumult grew.
-Close to the stern of that famed ship which bore
-Unbless’d Protesilaus to Ilion’s shore,
-The great Pæonian, bold Pyrechmes stood;
-(Who led his bands from Axius’ winding flood;)
-His shoulder-blade receives the fatal wound;
-The groaning warrior pants upon the ground.
-His troops, that see their country’s glory slain,
-Fly diverse, scatter’d o’er the distant plain.
-Patroclus’ arm forbids the spreading fires,
-And from the half-burn’d ship proud Troy retires;
-Clear’d from the smoke the joyful navy lies;
-In heaps on heaps the foe tumultuous flies;
-Triumphant Greece her rescued decks ascends,
-And loud acclaim the starry region rends.
-So when thick clouds enwrap the mountain’s head,
-O’er heaven’s expanse like one black ceiling spread;
-Sudden the Thunderer, with a flashing ray,
-Bursts through the darkness, and lets down the day:
-The hills shine out, the rocks in prospect rise,
-And streams, and vales, and forests, strike the eyes;
-The smiling scene wide opens to the sight,
-And all the unmeasured ether flames with light.
-
-But Troy repulsed, and scatter’d o’er the plains,
-Forced from the navy, yet the fight maintains.
-Now every Greek some hostile hero slew,
-But still the foremost, bold Patroclus flew:
-As Areilycus had turn’d him round,
-Sharp in his thigh he felt the piercing wound;
-The brazen-pointed spear, with vigour thrown,
-The thigh transfix’d, and broke the brittle bone:
-Headlong he fell. Next, Thoas was thy chance;
-Thy breast, unarm’d, received the Spartan lance.
-Phylides’ dart (as Amphidus drew nigh)
-His blow prevented, and transpierced his thigh,
-Tore all the brawn, and rent the nerves away;
-In darkness, and in death, the warrior lay.
-
-In equal arms two sons of Nestor stand,
-And two bold brothers of the Lycian band:
-By great Antilochus, Atymnius dies,
-Pierced in the flank, lamented youth! he lies,
-Kind Maris, bleeding in his brother’s wound,
-Defends the breathless carcase on the ground;
-Furious he flies, his murderer to engage:
-But godlike Thrasimed prevents his rage,
-Between his arm and shoulder aims a blow;
-His arm falls spouting on the dust below:
-He sinks, with endless darkness cover’d o’er:
-And vents his soul, effused with gushing gore.
-
-Slain by two brothers, thus two brothers bleed,
-Sarpedon’s friends, Amisodarus’ seed;
-Amisodarus, who, by Furies led,
-The bane of men, abhorr’d Chimaera bred;
-Skill’d in the dart in vain, his sons expire,
-And pay the forfeit of their guilty sire.
-
-Stopp’d in the tumult Cleobulus lies,
-Beneath Oïleus’ arm, a living prize;
-A living prize not long the Trojan stood;
-The thirsty falchion drank his reeking blood:
-Plunged in his throat the smoking weapon lies;
-Black death, and fate unpitying, seal his eyes.
-
-Amid the ranks, with mutual thirst of fame,
-Lycon the brave, and fierce Peneleus came;
-In vain their javelins at each other flew,
-Now, met in arms, their eager swords they drew.
-On the plumed crest of his Bœotian foe
-The daring Lycon aim’d a noble blow;
-The sword broke short; but his, Peneleus sped
-Full on the juncture of the neck and head:
-The head, divided by a stroke so just,
-Hung by the skin; the body sunk to dust.
-
-O’ertaken Neamas by Merion bleeds,
-Pierced through the shoulder as he mounts his steeds;
-Back from the car he tumbles to the ground:
-His swimming eyes eternal shades surround.
-
-Next Erymas was doom’d his fate to feel,
-His open’d mouth received the Cretan steel:
-Beneath the brain the point a passage tore,
-Crash’d the thin bones, and drown’d the teeth in gore:
-His mouth, his eyes, his nostrils, pour a flood;
-He sobs his soul out in the gush of blood.
-
-As when the flocks neglected by the swain,
-Or kids, or lambs, lie scatter’d o’er the plain,
-A troop of wolves the unguarded charge survey,
-And rend the trembling, unresisting prey:
-Thus on the foe the Greeks impetuous came;
-Troy fled, unmindful of her former fame.
-
-But still at Hector godlike Ajax aim’d,
-Still, pointed at his breast, his javelin flamed.
-The Trojan chief, experienced in the field,
-O’er his broad shoulders spread the massy shield,
-Observed the storm of darts the Grecians pour,
-And on his buckler caught the ringing shower:
-He sees for Greece the scale of conquest rise,
-Yet stops, and turns, and saves his loved allies.
-
-As when the hand of Jove a tempest forms,
-And rolls the cloud to blacken heaven with storms,
-Dark o’er the fields the ascending vapour flies,
-And shades the sun, and blots the golden skies:
-So from the ships, along the dusky plain,
-Dire Flight and Terror drove the Trojan train.
-Even Hector fled; through heads of disarray
-The fiery coursers forced their lord away:
-While far behind his Trojans fall confused;
-Wedged in the trench, in one vast carnage bruised:
-Chariots on chariots roll: the clashing spokes
-Shock; while the madding steeds break short their yokes.
-In vain they labour up the steepy mound;
-Their charioteers lie foaming on the ground.
-Fierce on the rear, with shouts Patroclus flies;
-Tumultuous clamour fills the fields and skies;
-Thick drifts of dust involve their rapid flight;
-Clouds rise on clouds, and heaven is snatch’d from sight.
-The affrighted steeds their dying lords cast down,
-Scour o’er the fields, and stretch to reach the town.
-Loud o’er the rout was heard the victor’s cry,
-Where the war bleeds, and where the thickest die,
-Where horse and arms, and chariots lie o’erthrown,
-And bleeding heroes under axles groan.
-No stop, no check, the steeds of Peleus knew:
-From bank to bank the immortal coursers flew.
-High-bounding o’er the fosse, the whirling car
-Smokes through the ranks, o’ertakes the flying war,
-And thunders after Hector; Hector flies,
-Patroclus shakes his lance; but fate denies.
-Not with less noise, with less impetuous force,
-The tide of Trojans urge their desperate course,
-Than when in autumn Jove his fury pours,
-And earth is loaden with incessant showers;
-(When guilty mortals break the eternal laws,
-Or judges, bribed, betray the righteous cause;)
-From their deep beds he bids the rivers rise,
-And opens all the flood-gates of the skies:
-The impetuous torrents from their hills obey,
-Whole fields are drown’d, and mountains swept away;
-Loud roars the deluge till it meets the main;
-And trembling man sees all his labours vain!
-
-And now the chief (the foremost troops repell’d)
-Back to the ships his destined progress held,
-Bore down half Troy in his resistless way,
-And forced the routed ranks to stand the day.
-Between the space where silver Simois flows,
-Where lay the fleets, and where the rampires rose,
-All grim in dust and blood Patroclus stands,
-And turns the slaughter on the conquering bands.
-First Pronous died beneath his fiery dart,
-Which pierced below the shield his valiant heart.
-Thestor was next, who saw the chief appear,
-And fell the victim of his coward fear;
-Shrunk up he sat, with wild and haggard eye,
-Nor stood to combat, nor had force to fly;
-Patroclus mark’d him as he shunn’d the war,
-And with unmanly tremblings shook the car,
-And dropp’d the flowing reins. Him ’twixt the jaws,
-The javelin sticks, and from the chariot draws.
-As on a rock that overhangs the main,
-An angler, studious of the line and cane,
-Some mighty fish draws panting to the shore:
-Not with less ease the barbed javelin bore
-The gaping dastard; as the spear was shook,
-He fell, and life his heartless breast forsook.
-
-Next on Eryalus he flies; a stone,
-Large as a rock, was by his fury thrown:
-Full on his crown the ponderous fragment flew,
-And burst the helm, and cleft the head in two:
-Prone to the ground the breathless warrior fell,
-And death involved him with the shades of hell.
-Then low in dust Epaltes, Echius, lie;
-Ipheas, Evippus, Polymelus, die;
-Amphoterus and Erymas succeed;
-And last Tlepolemus and Pyres bleed.
-Where’er he moves, the growing slaughters spread
-In heaps on heaps a monument of dead.
-
-When now Sarpedon his brave friends beheld
-Grovelling in dust, and gasping on the field,
-With this reproach his flying host he warms:
-“Oh stain to honour! oh disgrace to arms!
-Forsake, inglorious, the contended plain;
-This hand unaided shall the war sustain:
-The task be mine this hero’s strength to try,
-Who mows whole troops, and makes an army fly.”
-
-He spake: and, speaking, leaps from off the car:
-Patroclus lights, and sternly waits the war.
-As when two vultures on the mountain’s height
-Stoop with resounding pinions to the fight;
-They cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming cry;
-The desert echoes, and the rocks reply:
-The warriors thus opposed in arms, engage
-With equal clamours, and with equal rage.
-
-Jove view’d the combat: whose event foreseen,
-He thus bespoke his sister and his queen:
-“The hour draws on; the destinies ordain,[245]
-My godlike son shall press the Phrygian plain:
-Already on the verge of death he stands,
-His life is owed to fierce Patroclus’ hands,
-What passions in a parent’s breast debate!
-Say, shall I snatch him from impending fate,
-And send him safe to Lycia, distant far
-From all the dangers and the toils of war;
-Or to his doom my bravest offspring yield,
-And fatten, with celestial blood, the field?”
-
-Then thus the goddess with the radiant eyes:
-“What words are these, O sovereign of the skies!
-Short is the date prescribed to mortal man;
-Shall Jove for one extend the narrow span,
-Whose bounds were fix’d before his race began?
-How many sons of gods, foredoom’d to death,
-Before proud Ilion must resign their breath!
-Were thine exempt, debate would rise above,
-And murmuring powers condemn their partial Jove.
-Give the bold chief a glorious fate in fight;
-And when the ascending soul has wing’d her flight,
-Let Sleep and Death convey, by thy command,
-The breathless body to his native land.
-His friends and people, to his future praise,
-A marble tomb and pyramid shall raise,
-And lasting honours to his ashes give;
-His fame (’tis all the dead can have) shall live.”
-
-She said: the cloud-compeller, overcome,
-Assents to fate, and ratifies the doom.
-Then touch’d with grief, the weeping heavens distill’d
-A shower of blood o’er all the fatal field:
-The god, his eyes averting from the plain,
-Laments his son, predestined to be slain,
-Far from the Lycian shores, his happy native reign.
-Now met in arms, the combatants appear;
-Each heaved the shield, and poised the lifted spear;
-From strong Patroclus’ hand the javelin fled,
-And pass’d the groin of valiant Thrasymed;
-The nerves unbraced no more his bulk sustain,
-He falls, and falling bites the bloody plain.
-Two sounding darts the Lycian leader threw:
-The first aloof with erring fury flew,
-The next transpierced Achilles’ mortal steed,
-The generous Pedasus of Theban breed:
-Fix’d in the shoulder’s joint, he reel’d around,
-Roll’d in the bloody dust, and paw’d the slippery ground.
-His sudden fall the entangled harness broke;
-Each axle crackled, and the chariot shook:
-When bold Automedon, to disengage
-The starting coursers, and restrain their rage,
-Divides the traces with his sword, and freed
-The encumbered chariot from the dying steed:
-The rest move on, obedient to the rein:
-The car rolls slowly o’er the dusty plain.
-
-The towering chiefs to fiercer fight advance:
-And first Sarpedon whirl’d his weighty lance,
-Which o’er the warrior’s shoulder took its course,
-And spent in empty air its dying force.
-Not so Patroclus’ never-erring dart;
-Aim’d at his breast it pierced a mortal part,
-Where the strong fibres bind the solid heart.
-Then as the mountain oak, or poplar tall,
-Or pine (fit mast for some great admiral)
-Nods to the axe, till with a groaning sound
-It sinks, and spreads its honours on the ground,
-Thus fell the king; and laid on earth supine,
-Before his chariot stretch’d his form divine:
-He grasp’d the dust distain’d with streaming gore,
-And, pale in death, lay groaning on the shore.
-So lies a bull beneath the lion’s paws,
-While the grim savage grinds with foamy jaws
-The trembling limbs, and sucks the smoking blood;
-Deep groans, and hollow roars, rebellow through the wood.
-
-Then to the leader of the Lycian band
-The dying chief address’d his last command;
-“Glaucus, be bold; thy task be first to dare
-The glorious dangers of destructive war,
-To lead my troops, to combat at their head,
-Incite the living, and supply the dead.
-Tell them, I charged them with my latest breath
-Not unrevenged to bear Sarpedon’s death.
-What grief, what shame, must Glaucus undergo,
-If these spoil’d arms adorn a Grecian foe!
-Then as a friend, and as a warrior fight;
-Defend my body, conquer in my right:
-That, taught by great examples, all may try
-Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die.”
-He ceased; the Fates suppress’d his labouring breath,
-And his eyes darken’d with the shades of death.
-The insulting victor with disdain bestrode
-The prostrate prince, and on his bosom trod;
-Then drew the weapon from his panting heart,
-The reeking fibres clinging to the dart;
-From the wide wound gush’d out a stream of blood,
-And the soul issued in the purple flood.
-His flying steeds the Myrmidons detain,
-Unguided now, their mighty master slain.
-All-impotent of aid, transfix’d with grief,
-Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying chief:
-His painful arm, yet useless with the smart
-Inflicted late by Teucer’s deadly dart,
-Supported on his better hand he stay’d:
-To Phœbus then (’twas all he could) he pray’d:
-
-“All-seeing monarch! whether Lycia’s coast,
-Or sacred Ilion, thy bright presence boast,
-Powerful alike to ease the wretch’s smart;
-O hear me! god of every healing art!
-Lo! stiff with clotted blood, and pierced with pain,
-That thrills my arm, and shoots through every vein,
-I stand unable to sustain the spear,
-And sigh, at distance from the glorious war.
-Low in the dust is great Sarpedon laid,
-Nor Jove vouchsafed his hapless offspring aid;
-But thou, O god of health! thy succour lend,
-To guard the relics of my slaughter’d friend:
-For thou, though distant, canst restore my might,
-To head my Lycians, and support the fight.”
-
-Apollo heard; and, suppliant as he stood,
-His heavenly hand restrain’d the flux of blood;
-He drew the dolours from the wounded part,
-And breathed a spirit in his rising heart.
-Renew’d by art divine, the hero stands,
-And owns the assistance of immortal hands.
-First to the fight his native troops he warms,
-Then loudly calls on Troy’s vindictive arms;
-With ample strides he stalks from place to place;
-Now fires Agenor, now Polydamas:
-Æneas next, and Hector he accosts;
-Inflaming thus the rage of all their hosts.
-
-“What thoughts, regardless chief! thy breast employ?
-Oh too forgetful of the friends of Troy!
-Those generous friends, who, from their country far,
-Breathe their brave souls out in another’s war.
-See! where in dust the great Sarpedon lies,
-In action valiant, and in council wise,
-Who guarded right, and kept his people free;
-To all his Lycians lost, and lost to thee!
-Stretch’d by Patroclus’ arm on yonder plains,
-O save from hostile rage his loved remains!
-Ah let not Greece his conquer’d trophies boast,
-Nor on his corse revenge her heroes lost!”
-
-He spoke: each leader in his grief partook:
-Troy, at the loss, through all her legions shook.
-Transfix’d with deep regret, they view o’erthrown
-At once his country’s pillar, and their own;
-A chief, who led to Troy’s beleaguer’d wall
-A host of heroes, and outshined them all.
-Fired, they rush on; first Hector seeks the foes,
-And with superior vengeance greatly glows.
-
-But o’er the dead the fierce Patroclus stands,
-And rousing Ajax, roused the listening bands:
-
-“Heroes, be men; be what you were before;
-Or weigh the great occasion, and be more.
-The chief who taught our lofty walls to yield,
-Lies pale in death, extended on the field.
-To guard his body Troy in numbers flies;
-’Tis half the glory to maintain our prize.
-Haste, strip his arms, the slaughter round him spread,
-And send the living Lycians to the dead.”
-
-The heroes kindle at his fierce command;
-The martial squadrons close on either hand:
-Here Troy and Lycia charge with loud alarms,
-Thessalia there, and Greece, oppose their arms.
-With horrid shouts they circle round the slain;
-The clash of armour rings o’er all the plain.
-Great Jove, to swell the horrors of the fight,
-O’er the fierce armies pours pernicious night,
-And round his son confounds the warring hosts,
-His fate ennobling with a crowd of ghosts.
-
-Now Greece gives way, and great Epigeus falls;
-Agacleus’ son, from Budium’s lofty walls;
-Who chased for murder thence a suppliant came
-To Peleus, and the silver-footed dame;
-Now sent to Troy, Achilles’ arms to aid,
-He pays due vengeance to his kinsman’s shade.
-Soon as his luckless hand had touch’d the dead,
-A rock’s large fragment thunder’d on his head;
-Hurl’d by Hectorean force it cleft in twain
-His shatter’d helm, and stretch’d him o’er the slain.
-
-Fierce to the van of fight Patroclus came,
-And, like an eagle darting at his game,
-Sprung on the Trojan and the Lycian band.
-What grief thy heart, what fury urged thy hand,
-O generous Greek! when with full vigour thrown,
-At Sthenelaus flew the weighty stone,
-Which sunk him to the dead: when Troy, too near
-That arm, drew back; and Hector learn’d to fear.
-Far as an able hand a lance can throw,
-Or at the lists, or at the fighting foe;
-So far the Trojans from their lines retired;
-Till Glaucus, turning, all the rest inspired.
-Then Bathyclaeus fell beneath his rage,
-The only hope of Chalcon’s trembling age;
-Wide o’er the land was stretch’d his large domain,
-With stately seats, and riches blest in vain:
-Him, bold with youth, and eager to pursue
-The flying Lycians, Glaucus met and slew;
-Pierced through the bosom with a sudden wound,
-He fell, and falling made the fields resound.
-The Achaians sorrow for their heroes slain;
-With conquering shouts the Trojans shake the plain,
-And crowd to spoil the dead: the Greeks oppose;
-An iron circle round the carcase grows.
-
-Then brave Laogonus resign’d his breath,
-Despatch’d by Merion to the shades of death:
-On Ida’s holy hill he made abode,
-The priest of Jove, and honour’d like his god.
-Between the jaw and ear the javelin went;
-The soul, exhaling, issued at the vent.
-His spear Æneas at the victor threw,
-Who stooping forward from the death withdrew;
-The lance hiss’d harmless o’er his covering shield,
-And trembling struck, and rooted in the field;
-There yet scarce spent, it quivers on the plain,
-Sent by the great Æneas’ arm in vain.
-“Swift as thou art (the raging hero cries)
-And skill’d in dancing to dispute the prize,
-My spear, the destined passage had it found,
-Had fix’d thy active vigour to the ground.”
-
-“O valiant leader of the Dardan host!
-(Insulted Merion thus retorts the boast)
-Strong as you are, ’tis mortal force you trust,
-An arm as strong may stretch thee in the dust.
-And if to this my lance thy fate be given,
-Vain are thy vaunts; success is still from heaven:
-This, instant, sends thee down to Pluto’s coast;
-Mine is the glory, his thy parting ghost.”
-
-“O friend (Menoetius’ son this answer gave)
-With words to combat, ill befits the brave;
-Not empty boasts the sons of Troy repel,
-Your swords must plunge them to the shades of hell.
-To speak, beseems the council; but to dare
-In glorious action, is the task of war.”
-
-This said, Patroclus to the battle flies;
-Great Merion follows, and new shouts arise:
-Shields, helmets rattle, as the warriors close;
-And thick and heavy sounds the storm of blows.
-As through the shrilling vale, or mountain ground,
-The labours of the woodman’s axe resound;
-Blows following blows are heard re-echoing wide,
-While crackling forests fall on every side:
-Thus echoed all the fields with loud alarms,
-So fell the warriors, and so rung their arms.
-
-Now great Sarpedon on the sandy shore,
-His heavenly form defaced with dust and gore,
-And stuck with darts by warring heroes shed,
-Lies undistinguish’d from the vulgar dead.
-His long-disputed corse the chiefs enclose,
-On every side the busy combat grows;
-Thick as beneath some shepherd’s thatch’d abode
-(The pails high foaming with a milky flood)
-The buzzing flies, a persevering train,
-Incessant swarm, and chased return again.
-
-Jove view’d the combat with a stern survey,
-And eyes that flash’d intolerable day.
-Fix’d on the field his sight, his breast debates
-The vengeance due, and meditates the fates:
-Whether to urge their prompt effect, and call
-The force of Hector to Patroclus’ fall,
-This instant see his short-lived trophies won,
-And stretch him breathless on his slaughter’d son;
-Or yet, with many a soul’s untimely flight,
-Augment the fame and horror of the fight.
-To crown Achilles’ valiant friend with praise
-At length he dooms; and, that his last of days
-Shall set in glory, bids him drive the foe;
-Nor unattended see the shades below.
-Then Hector’s mind he fills with dire dismay;
-He mounts his car, and calls his hosts away;
-Sunk with Troy’s heavy fates, he sees decline
-The scales of Jove, and pants with awe divine.
-
-Then, nor before, the hardy Lycians fled,
-And left their monarch with the common dead:
-Around, in heaps on heaps, a dreadful wall
-Of carnage rises, as the heroes fall.
-(So Jove decreed!) At length the Greeks obtain
-The prize contested, and despoil the slain.
-The radiant arms are by Patroclus borne;
-Patroclus’ ships the glorious spoils adorn.
-
-Then thus to Phœbus, in the realms above,
-Spoke from his throne the cloud-compelling Jove:
-“Descend, my Phœbus! on the Phrygian plain,
-And from the fight convey Sarpedon slain;
-Then bathe his body in the crystal flood,
-With dust dishonour’d, and deform’d with blood;
-O’er all his limbs ambrosial odours shed,
-And with celestial robes adorn the dead.
-Those rites discharged, his sacred corse bequeath
-To the soft arms of silent Sleep and Death.
-They to his friends the immortal charge shall bear;
-His friends a tomb and pyramid shall rear:
-What honour mortals after death receive,
-Those unavailing honours we may give!”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] SLEEP AND DEATH CONVEYING THE BODY OF SARPEDON TO
-LYCIA
-
-
-Apollo bows, and from mount Ida’s height,
-Swift to the field precipitates his flight;
-Thence from the war the breathless hero bore,
-Veil’d in a cloud, to silver Simois’ shore;
-There bathed his honourable wounds, and dress’d
-His manly members in the immortal vest;
-And with perfumes of sweet ambrosial dews
-Restores his freshness, and his form renews.
-Then Sleep and Death, two twins of winged race,
-Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace,
-Received Sarpedon, at the god’s command,
-And in a moment reach’d the Lycian land;
-The corse amidst his weeping friends they laid,
-Where endless honours wait the sacred shade.
-
-Meanwhile Patroclus pours along the plains,
-With foaming coursers, and with loosen’d reins.
-Fierce on the Trojan and the Lycian crew,
-Ah blind to fate! thy headlong fury flew:
-Against what fate and powerful Jove ordain,
-Vain was thy friend’s command, thy courage vain.
-For he, the god, whose counsels uncontroll’d
-Dismay the mighty, and confound the bold;
-The god who gives, resumes, and orders all,
-He urged thee on, and urged thee on to fall.
-
-Who first, brave hero! by that arm was slain,
-Who last beneath thy vengeance press’d the plain;
-When heaven itself thy fatal fury led,
-And call’d to fill the number of the dead?
-Adrestus first; Autonous then succeeds;
-Echeclus follows; next young Megas bleeds,
-Epistor, Melanippus, bite the ground;
-The slaughter, Elasus and Mulius crown’d:
-Then sunk Pylartes to eternal night;
-The rest, dispersing, trust their fates to flight.
-
-Now Troy had stoop’d beneath his matchless power,
-But flaming Phœbus kept the sacred tower.
-Thrice at the battlements Patroclus strook;[246]
-His blazing ægis thrice Apollo shook;
-He tried the fourth; when, bursting from the cloud,
-A more than mortal voice was heard aloud.
-
-“Patroclus! cease; this heaven-defended wall
-Defies thy lance; not fated yet to fall;
-Thy friend, thy greater far, it shall withstand,
-Troy shall not stoop even to Achilles’ hand.”
-
-So spoke the god who darts celestial fires;
-The Greek obeys him, and with awe retires.
-While Hector, checking at the Scæan gates
-His panting coursers, in his breast debates,
-Or in the field his forces to employ,
-Or draw the troops within the walls of Troy.
-Thus while he thought, beside him Phœbus stood,
-In Asius’ shape, who reigned by Sangar’s flood;
-(Thy brother, Hecuba! from Dymas sprung,
-A valiant warrior, haughty, bold, and young;)
-Thus he accosts him. “What a shameful sight!
-God! is it Hector that forbears the fight?
-Were thine my vigour this successful spear
-Should soon convince thee of so false a fear.
-Turn thee, ah turn thee to the field of fame,
-And in Patroclus’ blood efface thy shame.
-Perhaps Apollo shall thy arms succeed,
-And heaven ordains him by thy lance to bleed.”
-
-So spoke the inspiring god; then took his flight,
-And plunged amidst the tumult of the fight.
-He bids Cebrion drive the rapid car;
-The lash resounds, the coursers rush to war.
-The god the Grecians’ sinking souls depress’d,
-And pour’d swift spirits through each Trojan breast.
-Patroclus lights, impatient for the fight;
-A spear his left, a stone employs his right:
-With all his nerves he drives it at the foe.
-Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
-The falling ruin crush’d Cebrion’s head,
-The lawless offspring of king Priam’s bed;
-His front, brows, eyes, one undistinguish’d wound:
-The bursting balls drop sightless to the ground.
-The charioteer, while yet he held the rein,
-Struck from the car, falls headlong on the plain.
-To the dark shades the soul unwilling glides,
-While the proud victor thus his fall derides.
-
-“Good heaven! what active feats yon artist shows!
-What skilful divers are our Phrygian foes!
-Mark with what ease they sink into the sand!
-Pity that all their practice is by land!”
-
-Then rushing sudden on his prostrate prize,
-To spoil the carcase fierce Patroclus flies:
-Swift as a lion, terrible and bold,
-That sweeps the field, depopulates the fold;
-Pierced through the dauntless heart, then tumbles slain,
-And from his fatal courage finds his bane.
-At once bold Hector leaping from his car,
-Defends the body, and provokes the war.
-Thus for some slaughter’d hind, with equal rage,
-Two lordly rulers of the wood engage;
-Stung with fierce hunger, each the prey invades,
-And echoing roars rebellow through the shades.
-Stern Hector fastens on the warrior’s head,
-And by the foot Patroclus drags the dead:
-While all around, confusion, rage, and fright,
-Mix the contending hosts in mortal fight.
-So pent by hills, the wild winds roar aloud
-In the deep bosom of some gloomy wood;
-Leaves, arms, and trees, aloft in air are blown,
-The broad oaks crackle, and the Sylvans groan;
-This way and that, the rattling thicket bends,
-And the whole forest in one crash descends.
-Not with less noise, with less tumultuous rage,
-In dreadful shock the mingled hosts engage.
-Darts shower’d on darts, now round the carcase ring;
-Now flights of arrows bounding from the string:
-Stones follow stones; some clatter on the fields,
-Some hard, and heavy, shake the sounding shields.
-But where the rising whirlwind clouds the plains,
-Sunk in soft dust the mighty chief remains,
-And, stretch’d in death, forgets the guiding reins!
-
-Now flaming from the zenith, Sol had driven
-His fervid orb through half the vault of heaven;
-While on each host with equal tempests fell
-The showering darts, and numbers sank to hell.
-But when his evening wheels o’erhung the main,
-Glad conquest rested on the Grecian train.
-Then from amidst the tumult and alarms,
-They draw the conquer’d corse and radiant arms.
-Then rash Patroclus with new fury glows,
-And breathing slaughter, pours amid the foes.
-Thrice on the press like Mars himself he flew,
-And thrice three heroes at each onset slew.
-There ends thy glory! there the Fates untwine
-The last, black remnant of so bright a line:
-Apollo dreadful stops thy middle way;
-Death calls, and heaven allows no longer day!
-
-For lo! the god in dusky clouds enshrined,
-Approaching dealt a staggering blow behind.
-The weighty shock his neck and shoulders feel;
-His eyes flash sparkles, his stunn’d senses reel
-In giddy darkness; far to distance flung,
-His bounding helmet on the champaign rung.
-Achilles’ plume is stain’d with dust and gore;
-That plume which never stoop’d to earth before;
-Long used, untouch’d, in fighting fields to shine,
-And shade the temples of the mad divine.
-Jove dooms it now on Hector’s helm to nod;
-Not long—for fate pursues him, and the god.
-
-His spear in shivers falls; his ample shield
-Drops from his arm: his baldric strows the field:
-The corslet his astonish’d breast forsakes:
-Loose is each joint; each nerve with horror shakes;
-Stupid he stares, and all-assistless stands:
-Such is the force of more than mortal hands!
-
-A Dardan youth there was, well known to fame,
-From Panthus sprung, Euphorbus was his name;
-Famed for the manage of the foaming horse,
-Skill’d in the dart, and matchless in the course:
-Full twenty knights he tumbled from the car,
-While yet he learn’d his rudiments of war.
-His venturous spear first drew the hero’s gore;
-He struck, he wounded, but he durst no more.
-Nor, though disarm’d, Patroclus’ fury stood:
-But swift withdrew the long-protended wood.
-And turn’d him short, and herded in the crowd.
-Thus, by an arm divine, and mortal spear,
-Wounded, at once, Patroclus yields to fear,
-Retires for succour to his social train,
-And flies the fate, which heaven decreed, in vain.
-Stern Hector, as the bleeding chief he views,
-Breaks through the ranks, and his retreat pursues:
-The lance arrests him with a mortal wound;
-He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.
-With him all Greece was sunk; that moment all
-Her yet-surviving heroes seem’d to fall.
-So, scorch’d with heat, along the desert score,
-The roaming lion meets a bristly boar,
-Fast by the spring; they both dispute the flood,
-With flaming eyes, and jaws besmear’d with blood;
-At length the sovereign savage wins the strife;
-And the torn boar resigns his thirst and life.
-Patroclus thus, so many chiefs o’erthrown,
-So many lives effused, expires his own.
-As dying now at Hector’s feet he lies,
-He sternly views him, and triumphant cries:
-
-“Lie there, Patroclus! and with thee, the joy
-Thy pride once promised, of subverting Troy;
-The fancied scenes of Ilion wrapt in flames,
-And thy soft pleasures served with captive dames.
-Unthinking man! I fought those towers to free,
-And guard that beauteous race from lords like thee:
-But thou a prey to vultures shalt be made;
-Thy own Achilles cannot lend thee aid;
-Though much at parting that great chief might say,
-And much enjoin thee, this important day.
-
-‘Return not, my brave friend (perhaps he said),
-Without the bloody arms of Hector dead.’
-He spoke, Patroclus march’d, and thus he sped.”
-
-Supine, and wildly gazing on the skies,
-With faint, expiring breath, the chief replies:
-
-“Vain boaster! cease, and know the powers divine!
-Jove’s and Apollo’s is this deed, not thine;
-To heaven is owed whate’er your own you call,
-And heaven itself disarm’d me ere my fall.
-Had twenty mortals, each thy match in might,
-Opposed me fairly, they had sunk in fight:
-By fate and Phœbus was I first o’erthrown,
-Euphorbus next; the third mean part thy own.
-But thou, imperious! hear my latest breath;
-The gods inspire it, and it sounds thy death:
-Insulting man, thou shalt be soon as I;
-Black fate o’erhangs thee, and thy hour draws nigh;
-Even now on life’s last verge I see thee stand,
-I see thee fall, and by Achilles’ hand.”
-
-He faints: the soul unwilling wings her way,
-(The beauteous body left a load of clay)
-Flits to the lone, uncomfortable coast;
-A naked, wandering, melancholy ghost!
-
-Then Hector pausing, as his eyes he fed
-On the pale carcase, thus address’d the dead:
-
-“From whence this boding speech, the stern decree
-Of death denounced, or why denounced to me?
-Why not as well Achilles’ fate be given
-To Hector’s lance? Who knows the will of heaven?”
-
-Pensive he said; then pressing as he lay
-His breathless bosom, tore the lance away;
-And upwards cast the corse: the reeking spear
-He shakes, and charges the bold charioteer.
-But swift Automedon with loosen’d reins
-Rapt in the chariot o’er the distant plains,
-Far from his rage the immortal coursers drove;
-The immortal coursers were the gift of Jove.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] ÆSCULAPIUS
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XVII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE SEVENTH BATTLE, FOR THE BODY OF PATROCLUS.—THE ACTS OF MENELAUS.
-
-
-Menelaus, upon the death of Patroclus, defends his body from the enemy:
-Euphorbus, who attempts it, is slain. Hector advancing, Menelaus
-retires; but soon returns with Ajax, and drives him off. This, Glaucus
-objects to Hector as a flight, who thereupon puts on the armour he had
-won from Patroclus, and renews the battle. The Greeks give way, till
-Ajax rallies them: Æneas sustains the Trojans. Æneas and Hector attempt
-the chariot of Achilles, which is borne off by Automedon. The horses of
-Achilles deplore the loss of Patroclus: Jupiter covers his body with a
-thick darkness: the noble prayer of Ajax on that occasion. Menelaus
-sends Antilochus to Achilles, with the news of Patroclus’ death: then
-returns to the fight, where, though attacked with the utmost fury, he
-and Meriones, assisted by the Ajaces, bear off the body to the ships.
-    The time is the evening of the eight-and-twentieth day. The scene
-    lies in the fields before Troy.
-
-
-On the cold earth divine Patroclus spread,
-Lies pierced with wounds among the vulgar dead.
-Great Menelaus, touch’d with generous woe,
-Springs to the front, and guards him from the foe.
-Thus round her new-fallen young the heifer moves,
-Fruit of her throes, and first-born of her loves;
-And anxious (helpless as he lies, and bare)
-Turns, and re-turns her, with a mother’s care,
-Opposed to each that near the carcase came,
-His broad shield glimmers, and his lances flame.
-
-The son of Panthus, skill’d the dart to send,
-Eyes the dead hero, and insults the friend.
-“This hand, Atrides, laid Patroclus low;
-Warrior! desist, nor tempt an equal blow:
-To me the spoils my prowess won, resign:
-Depart with life, and leave the glory mine.”
-
-The Trojan thus: the Spartan monarch burn’d
-With generous anguish, and in scorn return’d:
-“Laugh’st thou not, Jove! from thy superior throne,
-When mortals boast of prowess not their own?
-Not thus the lion glories in his might,
-Nor panther braves his spotted foe in fight,
-Nor thus the boar (those terrors of the plain;)
-Man only vaunts his force, and vaunts in vain.
-But far the vainest of the boastful kind,
-These sons of Panthus vent their haughty mind.
-Yet ’twas but late, beneath my conquering steel
-This boaster’s brother, Hyperenor, fell;
-Against our arm which rashly he defied,
-Vain was his vigour, and as vain his pride.
-These eyes beheld him on the dust expire,
-No more to cheer his spouse, or glad his sire.
-Presumptuous youth! like his shall be thy doom,
-Go, wait thy brother to the Stygian gloom;
-Or, while thou may’st, avoid the threaten’d fate;
-Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late.”
-
-Unmoved, Euphorbus thus: “That action known,
-Come, for my brother’s blood repay thy own.
-His weeping father claims thy destined head,
-And spouse, a widow in her bridal bed.
-On these thy conquer’d spoils I shall bestow,
-To soothe a consort’s and a parent’s woe.
-No longer then defer the glorious strife,
-Let heaven decide our fortune, fame, and life.”
-
-Swift as the word the missile lance he flings;
-The well-aim’d weapon on the buckler rings,
-But blunted by the brass, innoxious falls.
-On Jove the father great Atrides calls,
-Nor flies the javelin from his arm in vain,
-It pierced his throat, and bent him to the plain;
-Wide through the neck appears the grisly wound,
-Prone sinks the warrior, and his arms resound.
-The shining circlets of his golden hair,
-Which even the Graces might be proud to wear,
-Instarr’d with gems and gold, bestrow the shore,
-With dust dishonour’d, and deform’d with gore.
-
-As the young olive, in some sylvan scene,
-Crown’d by fresh fountains with eternal green,
-Lifts the gay head, in snowy flowerets fair,
-And plays and dances to the gentle air;
-When lo! a whirlwind from high heaven invades
-The tender plant, and withers all its shades;
-It lies uprooted from its genial bed,
-A lovely ruin now defaced and dead:
-Thus young, thus beautiful, Euphorbus lay,
-While the fierce Spartan tore his arms away.
-Proud of his deed, and glorious in the prize,
-Affrighted Troy the towering victor flies:
-Flies, as before some mountain lion’s ire
-The village curs and trembling swains retire,
-When o’er the slaughter’d bull they hear him roar,
-And see his jaws distil with smoking gore:
-All pale with fear, at distance scatter’d round,
-They shout incessant, and the vales resound.
-
-Meanwhile Apollo view’d with envious eyes,
-And urged great Hector to dispute the prize;
-(In Mentes’ shape, beneath whose martial care
-The rough Ciconians learn’d the trade of war;)[247]
-“Forbear (he cried) with fruitless speed to chase
-Achilles’ coursers, of ethereal race;
-They stoop not, these, to mortal man’s command,
-Or stoop to none but great Achilles’ hand.
-Too long amused with a pursuit so vain,
-Turn, and behold the brave Euphorbus slain;
-By Sparta slain! for ever now suppress’d
-The fire which burn’d in that undaunted breast!”
-
-Thus having spoke, Apollo wing’d his flight,
-And mix’d with mortals in the toils of fight:
-His words infix’d unutterable care
-Deep in great Hector’s soul: through all the war
-He darts his anxious eye; and, instant, view’d
-The breathless hero in his blood imbued,
-(Forth welling from the wound, as prone he lay)
-And in the victor’s hands the shining prey.
-Sheath’d in bright arms, through cleaving ranks he flies,
-And sends his voice in thunder to the skies:
-Fierce as a flood of flame by Vulcan sent,
-It flew, and fired the nations as it went.
-Atrides from the voice the storm divined,
-And thus explored his own unconquer’d mind:
-
-“Then shall I quit Patroclus on the plain,
-Slain in my cause, and for my honour slain!
-Desert the arms, the relics, of my friend?
-Or singly, Hector and his troops attend?
-Sure where such partial favour heaven bestow’d,
-To brave the hero were to brave the god:
-Forgive me, Greece, if once I quit the field;
-’Tis not to Hector, but to heaven I yield.
-Yet, nor the god, nor heaven, should give me fear,
-Did but the voice of Ajax reach my ear:
-Still would we turn, still battle on the plains,
-And give Achilles all that yet remains
-Of his and our Patroclus—” This, no more
-The time allow’d: Troy thicken’d on the shore.
-A sable scene! The terrors Hector led.
-Slow he recedes, and sighing quits the dead.
-
-So from the fold the unwilling lion parts,
-Forced by loud clamours, and a storm of darts;
-He flies indeed, but threatens as he flies,
-With heart indignant and retorted eyes.
-Now enter’d in the Spartan ranks, he turn’d
-His manly breast, and with new fury burn’d;
-O’er all the black battalions sent his view,
-And through the cloud the godlike Ajax knew;
-Where labouring on the left the warrior stood,
-All grim in arms, and cover’d o’er with blood;
-There breathing courage, where the god of day
-Had sunk each heart with terror and dismay.
-
-To him the king: “Oh Ajax, oh my friend!
-Haste, and Patroclus’ loved remains defend:
-The body to Achilles to restore
-Demands our care; alas, we can no more!
-For naked now, despoiled of arms, he lies;
-And Hector glories in the dazzling prize.”
-He said, and touch’d his heart. The raging pair
-Pierced the thick battle, and provoke the war.
-Already had stern Hector seized his head,
-And doom’d to Trojan gods the unhappy dead;
-But soon as Ajax rear’d his tower-like shield,
-Sprung to his car, and measured back the field,
-His train to Troy the radiant armour bear,
-To stand a trophy of his fame in war.
-
-Meanwhile great Ajax (his broad shield display’d)
-Guards the dead hero with the dreadful shade;
-And now before, and now behind he stood:
-Thus in the centre of some gloomy wood,
-With many a step, the lioness surrounds
-Her tawny young, beset by men and hounds;
-Elate her heart, and rousing all her powers,
-Dark o’er the fiery balls each hanging eyebrow lours.
-Fast by his side the generous Spartan glows
-With great revenge, and feeds his inward woes.
-
-But Glaucus, leader of the Lycian aids,
-On Hector frowning, thus his flight upbraids:
-
-“Where now in Hector shall we Hector find?
-A manly form, without a manly mind.
-Is this, O chief! a hero’s boasted fame?
-How vain, without the merit, is the name!
-Since battle is renounced, thy thoughts employ
-What other methods may preserve thy Troy:
-’Tis time to try if Ilion’s state can stand
-By thee alone, nor ask a foreign hand:
-Mean, empty boast! but shall the Lycians stake
-Their lives for you? those Lycians you forsake?
-What from thy thankless arms can we expect?
-Thy friend Sarpedon proves thy base neglect;
-Say, shall our slaughter’d bodies guard your walls,
-While unreveng’d the great Sarpedon falls?
-Even where he died for Troy, you left him there,
-A feast for dogs, and all the fowls of air.
-On my command if any Lycian wait,
-Hence let him march, and give up Troy to fate.
-Did such a spirit as the gods impart
-Impel one Trojan hand or Trojan heart,
-(Such as should burn in every soul that draws
-The sword for glory, and his country’s cause)
-Even yet our mutual arms we might employ,
-And drag yon carcase to the walls of Troy.
-Oh! were Patroclus ours, we might obtain
-Sarpedon’s arms and honour’d corse again!
-Greece with Achilles’ friend should be repaid,
-And thus due honours purchased to his shade.
-But words are vain—Let Ajax once appear,
-And Hector trembles and recedes with fear;
-Thou dar’st not meet the terrors of his eye;
-And lo! already thou prepar’st to fly.”
-
-The Trojan chief with fix’d resentment eyed
-The Lycian leader, and sedate replied:
-
-“Say, is it just, my friend, that Hector’s ear
-From such a warrior such a speech should hear?
-I deem’d thee once the wisest of thy kind,
-But ill this insult suits a prudent mind.
-I shun great Ajax? I desert my train?
-’Tis mine to prove the rash assertion vain;
-I joy to mingle where the battle bleeds,
-And hear the thunder of the sounding steeds.
-But Jove’s high will is ever uncontroll’d,
-The strong he withers, and confounds the bold;
-Now crowns with fame the mighty man, and now
-Strikes the fresh garland from the victor’s brow!
-Come, through yon squadrons let us hew the way,
-And thou be witness, if I fear to-day;
-If yet a Greek the sight of Hector dread,
-Or yet their hero dare defend the dead.”
-
-Then turning to the martial hosts, he cries:
-“Ye Trojans, Dardans, Lycians, and allies!
-Be men, my friends, in action as in name,
-And yet be mindful of your ancient fame.
-Hector in proud Achilles’ arms shall shine,
-Torn from his friend, by right of conquest mine.”
-
-He strode along the field, as thus he said:
-(The sable plumage nodded o’er his head:)
-Swift through the spacious plain he sent a look;
-One instant saw, one instant overtook
-The distant band, that on the sandy shore
-The radiant spoils to sacred Ilion bore.
-There his own mail unbraced the field bestrow’d;
-His train to Troy convey’d the massy load.
-Now blazing in the immortal arms he stands;
-The work and present of celestial hands;
-By aged Peleus to Achilles given,
-As first to Peleus by the court of heaven:
-His father’s arms not long Achilles wears,
-Forbid by fate to reach his father’s years.
-
-Him, proud in triumph, glittering from afar,
-The god whose thunder rends the troubled air
-Beheld with pity; as apart he sat,
-And, conscious, look’d through all the scene of fate.
-He shook the sacred honours of his head;
-Olympus trembled, and the godhead said;
-“Ah, wretched man! unmindful of thy end!
-A moment’s glory; and what fates attend!
-In heavenly panoply divinely bright
-Thou stand’st, and armies tremble at thy sight,
-As at Achilles’ self! beneath thy dart
-Lies slain the great Achilles’ dearer part.
-Thou from the mighty dead those arms hast torn,
-Which once the greatest of mankind had worn.
-Yet live! I give thee one illustrious day,
-A blaze of glory ere thou fad’st away.
-For ah! no more Andromache shall come
-With joyful tears to welcome Hector home;
-No more officious, with endearing charms,
-From thy tired limbs unbrace Pelides’ arms!”
-
-Then with his sable brow he gave the nod
-That seals his word; the sanction of the god.
-The stubborn arms (by Jove’s command disposed)
-Conform’d spontaneous, and around him closed:
-Fill’d with the god, enlarged his members grew,
-Through all his veins a sudden vigour flew,
-The blood in brisker tides began to roll,
-And Mars himself came rushing on his soul.
-Exhorting loud through all the field he strode,
-And look’d, and moved, Achilles, or a god.
-Now Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon, he inspires,
-Now Phorcys, Chromius, and Hippothous fires;
-The great Thersilochus like fury found,
-Asteropaeus kindled at the sound,
-And Ennomus, in augury renown’d.
-
-“Hear, all ye hosts, and hear, unnumber’d bands
-Of neighbouring nations, or of distant lands!
-’Twas not for state we summon’d you so far,
-To boast our numbers, and the pomp of war:
-Ye came to fight; a valiant foe to chase,
-To save our present, and our future race.
-For this, our wealth, our products, you enjoy,
-And glean the relics of exhausted Troy.
-Now then, to conquer or to die prepare;
-To die or conquer are the terms of war.
-Whatever hand shall win Patroclus slain,
-Whoe’er shall drag him to the Trojan train,
-With Hector’s self shall equal honours claim;
-With Hector part the spoil, and share the fame.”
-
-Fired by his words, the troops dismiss their fears,
-They join, they thicken, they protend their spears;
-Full on the Greeks they drive in firm array,
-And each from Ajax hopes the glorious prey:
-Vain hope! what numbers shall the field o’erspread,
-What victims perish round the mighty dead!
-
-Great Ajax mark’d the growing storm from far,
-And thus bespoke his brother of the war:
-“Our fatal day, alas! is come, my friend;
-And all our wars and glories at an end!
-’Tis not this corse alone we guard in vain,
-Condemn’d to vultures on the Trojan plain;
-We too must yield: the same sad fate must fall
-On thee, on me, perhaps, my friend, on all.
-See what a tempest direful Hector spreads,
-And lo! it bursts, it thunders on our heads!
-Call on our Greeks, if any hear the call,
-The bravest Greeks: this hour demands them all.”
-
-The warrior raised his voice, and wide around
-The field re-echoed the distressful sound.
-“O chiefs! O princes, to whose hand is given
-The rule of men; whose glory is from heaven!
-Whom with due honours both Atrides grace:
-Ye guides and guardians of our Argive race!
-All, whom this well-known voice shall reach from far,
-All, whom I see not through this cloud of war;
-Come all! let generous rage your arms employ,
-And save Patroclus from the dogs of Troy.”
-
-Oilean Ajax first the voice obey’d,
-Swift was his pace, and ready was his aid:
-Next him Idomeneus, more slow with age,
-And Merion, burning with a hero’s rage.
-The long-succeeding numbers who can name?
-But all were Greeks, and eager all for fame.
-Fierce to the charge great Hector led the throng;
-Whole Troy embodied rush’d with shouts along.
-Thus, when a mountain billow foams and raves,
-Where some swoln river disembogues his waves,
-Full in the mouth is stopp’d the rushing tide,
-The boiling ocean works from side to side,
-The river trembles to his utmost shore,
-And distant rocks re-bellow to the roar.
-
-Nor less resolved, the firm Achaian band
-With brazen shields in horrid circle stand.
-Jove, pouring darkness o’er the mingled fight,
-Conceals the warriors’ shining helms in night:
-To him, the chief for whom the hosts contend
-Had lived not hateful, for he lived a friend:
-Dead he protects him with superior care.
-Nor dooms his carcase to the birds of air.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] FIGHT FOR THE BODY OF PATROCLUS
-
-
-The first attack the Grecians scarce sustain,
-Repulsed, they yield; the Trojans seize the slain.
-Then fierce they rally, to revenge led on
-By the swift rage of Ajax Telamon.
-(Ajax to Peleus’ son the second name,
-In graceful stature next, and next in fame.)
-With headlong force the foremost ranks he tore;
-So through the thicket bursts the mountain boar,
-And rudely scatters, for a distance round,
-The frighted hunter and the baying hound.
-The son of Lethus, brave Pelasgus’ heir,
-Hippothous, dragg’d the carcase through the war;
-The sinewy ankles bored, the feet he bound
-With thongs inserted through the double wound:
-Inevitable fate o’ertakes the deed;
-Doom’d by great Ajax’ vengeful lance to bleed:
-It cleft the helmet’s brazen cheeks in twain;
-The shatter’d crest and horse-hair strow the plain:
-With nerves relax’d he tumbles to the ground:
-The brain comes gushing through the ghastly wound:
-He drops Patroclus’ foot, and o’er him spread,
-Now lies a sad companion of the dead:
-Far from Larissa lies, his native air,
-And ill requites his parents’ tender care.
-Lamented youth! in life’s first bloom he fell,
-Sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell.
-
-Once more at Ajax Hector’s javelin flies;
-The Grecian marking, as it cut the skies,
-Shunn’d the descending death; which hissing on,
-Stretch’d in the dust the great Iphytus’ son,
-Schedius the brave, of all the Phocian kind
-The boldest warrior and the noblest mind:
-In little Panope, for strength renown’d,
-He held his seat, and ruled the realms around.
-Plunged in his throat, the weapon drank his blood,
-And deep transpiercing through the shoulder stood;
-In clanging arms the hero fell and all
-The fields resounded with his weighty fall.
-
-Phorcys, as slain Hippothous he defends,
-The Telamonian lance his belly rends;
-The hollow armour burst before the stroke,
-And through the wound the rushing entrails broke:
-In strong convulsions panting on the sands
-He lies, and grasps the dust with dying hands.
-
-Struck at the sight, recede the Trojan train:
-The shouting Argives strip the heroes slain.
-And now had Troy, by Greece compell’d to yield,
-Fled to her ramparts, and resign’d the field;
-Greece, in her native fortitude elate,
-With Jove averse, had turn’d the scale of fate:
-But Phœbus urged Æneas to the fight;
-He seem’d like aged Periphas to sight:
-(A herald in Anchises’ love grown old,
-Revered for prudence, and with prudence bold.)
-
-Thus he—“What methods yet, O chief! remain,
-To save your Troy, though heaven its fall ordain?
-There have been heroes, who, by virtuous care,
-By valour, numbers, and by arts of war,
-Have forced the powers to spare a sinking state,
-And gain’d at length the glorious odds of fate:
-But you, when fortune smiles, when Jove declares
-His partial favour, and assists your wars,
-Your shameful efforts ’gainst yourselves employ,
-And force the unwilling god to ruin Troy.”
-
-Æneas through the form assumed descries
-The power conceal’d, and thus to Hector cries:
-“Oh lasting shame! to our own fears a prey,
-We seek our ramparts, and desert the day.
-A god, nor is he less, my bosom warms,
-And tells me, Jove asserts the Trojan arms.”
-
-He spoke, and foremost to the combat flew:
-The bold example all his hosts pursue.
-Then, first, Leocritus beneath him bled,
-In vain beloved by valiant Lycomede;
-Who view’d his fall, and, grieving at the chance,
-Swift to revenge it sent his angry lance;
-The whirling lance, with vigorous force address’d,
-Descends, and pants in Apisaon’s breast;
-From rich Paeonia’s vales the warrior came,
-Next thee, Asteropeus! in place and fame.
-Asteropeus with grief beheld the slain,
-And rush’d to combat, but he rush’d in vain:
-Indissolubly firm, around the dead,
-Rank within rank, on buckler buckler spread,
-And hemm’d with bristled spears, the Grecians stood,
-A brazen bulwark, and an iron wood.
-Great Ajax eyes them with incessant care,
-And in an orb contracts the crowded war,
-Close in their ranks commands to fight or fall,
-And stands the centre and the soul of all:
-Fix’d on the spot they war, and wounded, wound;
-A sanguine torrent steeps the reeking ground:
-On heaps the Greeks, on heaps the Trojans bled,
-And, thickening round them, rise the hills of dead.
-
-Greece, in close order, and collected might,
-Yet suffers least, and sways the wavering fight;
-Fierce as conflicting fires the combat burns,
-And now it rises, now it sinks by turns.
-In one thick darkness all the fight was lost;
-The sun, the moon, and all the ethereal host
-Seem’d as extinct: day ravish’d from their eyes,
-And all heaven’s splendours blotted from the skies.
-Such o’er Patroclus’ body hung the night,
-The rest in sunshine fought, and open light;
-Unclouded there, the aerial azure spread,
-No vapour rested on the mountain’s head,
-The golden sun pour’d forth a stronger ray,
-And all the broad expansion flamed with day.
-Dispersed around the plain, by fits they fight,
-And here and there their scatter’d arrows light:
-But death and darkness o’er the carcase spread,
-There burn’d the war, and there the mighty bled.
-
-Meanwhile the sons of Nestor, in the rear,
-(Their fellows routed,) toss the distant spear,
-And skirmish wide: so Nestor gave command,
-When from the ships he sent the Pylian band.
-The youthful brothers thus for fame contend,
-Nor knew the fortune of Achilles’ friend;
-In thought they view’d him still, with martial joy,
-Glorious in arms, and dealing death to Troy.
-
-But round the corse the heroes pant for breath,
-And thick and heavy grows the work of death:
-O’erlabour’d now, with dust, and sweat, and gore,
-Their knees, their legs, their feet, are covered o’er;
-Drops follow drops, the clouds on clouds arise,
-And carnage clogs their hands, and darkness fills their eyes.
-As when a slaughter’d bull’s yet reeking hide,
-Strain’d with full force, and tugg’d from side to side,
-The brawny curriers stretch; and labour o’er
-The extended surface, drunk with fat and gore:
-So tugging round the corse both armies stood;
-The mangled body bathed in sweat and blood;
-While Greeks and Ilians equal strength employ,
-Now to the ships to force it, now to Troy.
-Not Pallas’ self, her breast when fury warms,
-Nor he whose anger sets the world in arms,
-Could blame this scene; such rage, such horror reign’d;
-Such, Jove to honour the great dead ordain’d.
-
-Achilles in his ships at distance lay,
-Nor knew the fatal fortune of the day;
-He, yet unconscious of Patroclus’ fall,
-In dust extended under Ilion’s wall,
-Expects him glorious from the conquered plain,
-And for his wish’d return prepares in vain;
-Though well he knew, to make proud Ilion bend
-Was more than heaven had destined to his friend.
-Perhaps to him: this Thetis had reveal’d;
-The rest, in pity to her son, conceal’d.
-
-Still raged the conflict round the hero dead,
-And heaps on heaps by mutual wounds they bled.
-“Cursed be the man (even private Greeks would say)
-Who dares desert this well-disputed day!
-First may the cleaving earth before our eyes
-Gape wide, and drink our blood for sacrifice;
-First perish all, ere haughty Troy shall boast
-We lost Patroclus, and our glory lost!”
-
-Thus they: while with one voice the Trojans said,
-“Grant this day, Jove! or heap us on the dead!”
-
-Then clash their sounding arms; the clangours rise,
-And shake the brazen concave of the skies.
-
-Meantime, at distance from the scene of blood,
-The pensive steeds of great Achilles stood:
-Their godlike master slain before their eyes,
-They wept, and shared in human miseries.[248]
-In vain Automedon now shakes the rein,
-Now plies the lash, and soothes and threats in vain;
-Nor to the fight nor Hellespont they go,
-Restive they stood, and obstinate in woe:
-Still as a tombstone, never to be moved,
-On some good man or woman unreproved
-Lays its eternal weight; or fix’d, as stands
-A marble courser by the sculptor’s hands,
-Placed on the hero’s grave. Along their face
-The big round drops coursed down with silent pace,
-Conglobing on the dust. Their manes, that late
-Circled their arched necks, and waved in state,
-Trail’d on the dust beneath the yoke were spread,
-And prone to earth was hung their languid head:
-Nor Jove disdain’d to cast a pitying look,
-While thus relenting to the steeds he spoke:
-
-“Unhappy coursers of immortal strain,
-Exempt from age, and deathless, now in vain;
-Did we your race on mortal man bestow,
-Only, alas! to share in mortal woe?
-For ah! what is there of inferior birth,
-That breathes or creeps upon the dust of earth;
-What wretched creature of what wretched kind,
-Than man more weak, calamitous, and blind?
-A miserable race! but cease to mourn:
-For not by you shall Priam’s son be borne
-High on the splendid car: one glorious prize
-He rashly boasts: the rest our will denies.
-Ourself will swiftness to your nerves impart,
-Ourself with rising spirits swell your heart.
-Automedon your rapid flight shall bear
-Safe to the navy through the storm of war.
-For yet ’tis given to Troy to ravage o’er
-The field, and spread her slaughters to the shore;
-The sun shall see her conquer, till his fall
-With sacred darkness shades the face of all.”
-
-He said; and breathing in the immortal horse
-Excessive spirit, urged them to the course;
-From their high manes they shake the dust, and bear
-The kindling chariot through the parted war:
-So flies a vulture through the clamorous train
-Of geese, that scream, and scatter round the plain.
-From danger now with swiftest speed they flew,
-And now to conquest with like speed pursue;
-Sole in the seat the charioteer remains,
-Now plies the javelin, now directs the reins:
-Him brave Alcimedon beheld distress’d,
-Approach’d the chariot, and the chief address’d:
-
-“What god provokes thee rashly thus to dare,
-Alone, unaided, in the thickest war?
-Alas! thy friend is slain, and Hector wields
-Achilles’ arms triumphant in the fields.”
-
-“In happy time (the charioteer replies)
-The bold Alcimedon now greets my eyes;
-No Greek like him the heavenly steeds restrains,
-Or holds their fury in suspended reins:
-Patroclus, while he lived, their rage could tame,
-But now Patroclus is an empty name!
-To thee I yield the seat, to thee resign
-The ruling charge: the task of fight be mine.”
-
-He said. Alcimedon, with active heat,
-Snatches the reins, and vaults into the seat.
-His friend descends. The chief of Troy descried,
-And call’d Æneas fighting near his side.
-
-“Lo, to my sight, beyond our hope restored,
-Achilles’ car, deserted of its lord!
-The glorious steeds our ready arms invite,
-Scarce their weak drivers guide them through the fight.
-Can such opponents stand when we assail?
-Unite thy force, my friend, and we prevail.”
-
-The son of Venus to the counsel yields;
-Then o’er their backs they spread their solid shields:
-With brass refulgent the broad surface shined,
-And thick bull-hides the spacious concave lined.
-Them Chromius follows, Aretus succeeds;
-Each hopes the conquest of the lofty steeds:
-In vain, brave youths, with glorious hopes ye burn,
-In vain advance! not fated to return.
-
-Unmov’d, Automedon attends the fight,
-Implores the Eternal, and collects his might.
-Then turning to his friend, with dauntless mind:
-“Oh keep the foaming coursers close behind!
-Full on my shoulders let their nostrils blow,
-For hard the fight, determined is the foe;
-’Tis Hector comes: and when he seeks the prize,
-War knows no mean; he wins it or he dies.”
-
-Then through the field he sends his voice aloud,
-And calls the Ajaces from the warring crowd,
-With great Atrides. “Hither turn, (he said,)
-Turn where distress demands immediate aid;
-The dead, encircled by his friends, forego,
-And save the living from a fiercer foe.
-Unhelp’d we stand, unequal to engage
-The force of Hector, and Æneas’ rage:
-Yet mighty as they are, my force to prove
-Is only mine: the event belongs to Jove.”
-
-He spoke, and high the sounding javelin flung,
-Which pass’d the shield of Aretus the young:
-It pierced his belt, emboss’d with curious art,
-Then in the lower belly struck the dart.
-As when a ponderous axe, descending full,
-Cleaves the broad forehead of some brawny bull:[249]
-Struck ’twixt the horns, he springs with many a bound,
-Then tumbling rolls enormous on the ground:
-Thus fell the youth; the air his soul received,
-And the spear trembled as his entrails heaved.
-
-Now at Automedon the Trojan foe
-Discharged his lance; the meditated blow,
-Stooping, he shunn’d; the javelin idly fled,
-And hiss’d innoxious o’er the hero’s head;
-Deep rooted in the ground, the forceful spear
-In long vibrations spent its fury there.
-With clashing falchions now the chiefs had closed,
-But each brave Ajax heard, and interposed;
-Nor longer Hector with his Trojans stood,
-But left their slain companion in his blood:
-His arms Automedon divests, and cries,
-“Accept, Patroclus, this mean sacrifice:
-Thus have I soothed my griefs, and thus have paid,
-Poor as it is, some offering to thy shade.”
-
-So looks the lion o’er a mangled boar,
-All grim with rage, and horrible with gore;
-High on the chariot at one bound he sprung,
-And o’er his seat the bloody trophies hung.
-
-And now Minerva from the realms of air
-Descends impetuous, and renews the war;
-For, pleased at length the Grecian arms to aid,
-The lord of thunders sent the blue-eyed maid.
-As when high Jove denouncing future woe,
-O’er the dark clouds extends his purple bow,
-(In sign of tempests from the troubled air,
-Or from the rage of man, destructive war,)
-The drooping cattle dread the impending skies,
-And from his half-till’d field the labourer flies:
-In such a form the goddess round her drew
-A livid cloud, and to the battle flew.
-Assuming Phœnix’ shape on earth she falls,
-And in his well-known voice to Sparta calls:
-“And lies Achilles’ friend, beloved by all,
-A prey to dogs beneath the Trojan wall?
-What shame 'o Greece for future times to tell,
-To thee the greatest in whose cause he fell!”
-“O chief, O father! (Atreus’ son replies)
-O full of days! by long experience wise!
-What more desires my soul, than here unmoved
-To guard the body of the man I loved?
-Ah, would Minerva send me strength to rear
-This wearied arm, and ward the storm of war!
-But Hector, like the rage of fire, we dread,
-And Jove’s own glories blaze around his head!”
-
-Pleased to be first of all the powers address’d,
-She breathes new vigour in her hero’s breast,
-And fills with keen revenge, with fell despite,
-Desire of blood, and rage, and lust of fight.
-So burns the vengeful hornet (soul all o’er),
-Repulsed in vain, and thirsty still of gore;
-(Bold son of air and heat) on angry wings
-Untamed, untired, he turns, attacks, and stings.
-Fired with like ardour fierce Atrides flew,
-And sent his soul with every lance he threw.
-
-There stood a Trojan, not unknown to fame,
-Aëtion’s son, and Podes was his name:
-With riches honour’d, and with courage bless’d,
-By Hector loved, his comrade, and his guest;
-Through his broad belt the spear a passage found,
-And, ponderous as he falls, his arms resound.
-Sudden at Hector’s side Apollo stood,
-Like Phaenops, Asius’ son, appear’d the god;
-(Asius the great, who held his wealthy reign
-In fair Abydos, by the rolling main.)
-
-“Oh prince! (he cried) Oh foremost once in fame!
-What Grecian now shall tremble at thy name?
-Dost thou at length to Menelaus yield,
-A chief once thought no terror of the field?
-Yet singly, now, the long-disputed prize
-He bears victorious, while our army flies:
-By the same arm illustrious Podes bled;
-The friend of Hector, unrevenged, is dead!”
-This heard, o’er Hector spreads a cloud of woe,
-Rage lifts his lance, and drives him on the foe.
-
-But now the Eternal shook his sable shield,
-That shaded Ide and all the subject field
-Beneath its ample verge. A rolling cloud
-Involved the mount; the thunder roar’d aloud;
-The affrighted hills from their foundations nod,
-And blaze beneath the lightnings of the god:
-At one regard of his all-seeing eye
-The vanquish’d triumph, and the victors fly.
-
-Then trembled Greece: the flight Peneleus led;
-For as the brave Bœotian turn’d his head
-To face the foe, Polydamas drew near,
-And razed his shoulder with a shorten’d spear:
-By Hector wounded, Leitus quits the plain,
-Pierced through the wrist; and raging with the pain,
-Grasps his once formidable lance in vain.
-
-As Hector follow’d, Idomen address’d
-The flaming javelin to his manly breast;
-The brittle point before his corslet yields;
-Exulting Troy with clamour fills the fields:
-High on his chariots the Cretan stood,
-The son of Priam whirl’d the massive wood.
-But erring from its aim, the impetuous spear
-Struck to the dust the squire and charioteer
-Of martial Merion: Coeranus his name,
-Who left fair Lyctus for the fields of fame.
-On foot bold Merion fought; and now laid low,
-Had graced the triumphs of his Trojan foe,
-But the brave squire the ready coursers brought,
-And with his life his master’s safety bought.
-Between his cheek and ear the weapon went,
-The teeth it shatter’d, and the tongue it rent.
-Prone from the seat he tumbles to the plain;
-His dying hand forgets the falling rein:
-This Merion reaches, bending from the car,
-And urges to desert the hopeless war:
-Idomeneus consents; the lash applies;
-And the swift chariot to the navy flies.
-
-Not Ajax less the will of heaven descried,
-And conquest shifting to the Trojan side,
-Turn’d by the hand of Jove. Then thus begun,
-To Atreus’s seed, the godlike Telamon:
-
-“Alas! who sees not Jove’s almighty hand
-Transfers the glory to the Trojan band?
-Whether the weak or strong discharge the dart,
-He guides each arrow to a Grecian heart:
-Not so our spears; incessant though they rain,
-He suffers every lance to fall in vain.
-Deserted of the god, yet let us try
-What human strength and prudence can supply;
-If yet this honour’d corse, in triumph borne,
-May glad the fleets that hope not our return,
-Who tremble yet, scarce rescued from their fates,
-And still hear Hector thundering at their gates.
-Some hero too must be despatch’d to bear
-The mournful message to Pelides’ ear;
-For sure he knows not, distant on the shore,
-His friend, his loved Patroclus, is no more.
-But such a chief I spy not through the host:
-The men, the steeds, the armies, all are lost
-In general darkness—Lord of earth and air!
-Oh king! Oh father! hear my humble prayer:
-Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;
-Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more:
-If Greece must perish, we thy will obey,
-But let us perish in the face of day!”
-
-With tears the hero spoke, and at his prayer
-The god relenting clear’d the clouded air;
-Forth burst the sun with all-enlightening ray;
-The blaze of armour flash’d against the day.
-“Now, now, Atrides! cast around thy sight;
-If yet Antilochus survives the fight,
-Let him to great Achilles’ ear convey
-The fatal news”—Atrides hastes away.
-
-So turns the lion from the nightly fold,
-Though high in courage, and with hunger bold,
-Long gall’d by herdsmen, and long vex’d by hounds,
-Stiff with fatigue, and fretted sore with wounds;
-The darts fly round him from a hundred hands,
-And the red terrors of the blazing brands:
-Till late, reluctant, at the dawn of day
-Sour he departs, and quits the untasted prey,
-So moved Atrides from his dangerous place
-With weary limbs, but with unwilling pace;
-The foe, he fear’d, might yet Patroclus gain,
-And much admonish’d, much adjured his train:
-
-“O guard these relics to your charge consign’d,
-And bear the merits of the dead in mind;
-How skill’d he was in each obliging art;
-The mildest manners, and the gentlest heart:
-He was, alas! but fate decreed his end,
-In death a hero, as in life a friend!”
-
-So parts the chief; from rank to rank he flew,
-And round on all sides sent his piercing view.
-As the bold bird, endued with sharpest eye
-Of all that wings the mid aërial sky,
-The sacred eagle, from his walks above
-Looks down, and sees the distant thicket move;
-Then stoops, and sousing on the quivering hare,
-Snatches his life amid the clouds of air.
-Not with less quickness, his exerted sight
-Pass’d this and that way, through the ranks of fight:
-Till on the left the chief he sought, he found,
-Cheering his men, and spreading deaths around:
-
-To him the king: “Beloved of Jove! draw near,
-For sadder tidings never touch’d thy ear;
-Thy eyes have witness’d what a fatal turn!
-How Ilion triumphs, and the Achaians mourn.
-This is not all: Patroclus, on the shore
-Now pale and dead, shall succour Greece no more.
-Fly to the fleet, this instant fly, and tell
-The sad Achilles, how his loved-one fell:
-He too may haste the naked corse to gain:
-The arms are Hector’s, who despoil’d the slain.”
-
-The youthful warrior heard with silent woe,
-From his fair eyes the tears began to flow:
-Big with the mighty grief, he strove to say
-What sorrow dictates, but no word found way.
-To brave Laodocus his arms he flung,
-Who, near him wheeling, drove his steeds along;
-Then ran the mournful message to impart,
-With tearful eyes, and with dejected heart.
-
-Swift fled the youth: nor Menelaus stands
-(Though sore distress’d) to aid the Pylian bands;
-But bids bold Thrasymede those troops sustain;
-Himself returns to his Patroclus slain.
-“Gone is Antilochus (the hero said);
-But hope not, warriors, for Achilles’ aid:
-Though fierce his rage, unbounded be his woe,
-Unarm’d, he fights not with the Trojan foe.
-’Tis in our hands alone our hopes remain,
-’Tis our own vigour must the dead regain,
-And save ourselves, while with impetuous hate
-Troy pours along, and this way rolls our fate.”
-
-“’Tis well (said Ajax), be it then thy care,
-With Merion’s aid, the weighty corse to rear;
-Myself, and my bold brother will sustain
-The shock of Hector and his charging train:
-Nor fear we armies, fighting side by side;
-What Troy can dare, we have already tried,
-Have tried it, and have stood.” The hero said.
-High from the ground the warriors heave the dead.
-A general clamour rises at the sight:
-Loud shout the Trojans, and renew the fight.
-Not fiercer rush along the gloomy wood,
-With rage insatiate, and with thirst of blood,
-Voracious hounds, that many a length before
-Their furious hunters, drive the wounded boar;
-But if the savage turns his glaring eye,
-They howl aloof, and round the forest fly.
-Thus on retreating Greece the Trojans pour,
-Wave their thick falchions, and their javelins shower:
-But Ajax turning, to their fears they yield,
-All pale they tremble and forsake the field.
-
-While thus aloft the hero’s corse they bear,
-Behind them rages all the storm of war:
-Confusion, tumult, horror, o’er the throng
-Of men, steeds, chariots, urged the rout along:
-Less fierce the winds with rising flames conspire
-To whelm some city under waves of fire;
-Now sink in gloomy clouds the proud abodes,
-Now crack the blazing temples of the gods;
-The rumbling torrent through the ruin rolls,
-And sheets of smoke mount heavy to the poles.
-The heroes sweat beneath their honour’d load:
-As when two mules, along the rugged road,
-From the steep mountain with exerted strength
-Drag some vast beam, or mast’s unwieldy length;
-Inly they groan, big drops of sweat distil,
-The enormous timber lumbering down the hill:
-So these—Behind, the bulk of Ajax stands,
-And breaks the torrent of the rushing bands.
-Thus when a river swell’d with sudden rains
-Spreads his broad waters o’er the level plains,
-Some interposing hill the stream divides,
-And breaks its force, and turns the winding tides.
-Still close they follow, close the rear engage;
-Æneas storms, and Hector foams with rage:
-While Greece a heavy, thick retreat maintains,
-Wedged in one body, like a flight of cranes,
-That shriek incessant, while the falcon, hung
-High on poised pinions, threats their callow young.
-So from the Trojan chiefs the Grecians fly,
-Such the wild terror, and the mingled cry:
-Within, without the trench, and all the way,
-Strow’d in bright heaps, their arms and armour lay;
-Such horror Jove impress’d! yet still proceeds
-The work of death, and still the battle bleeds.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VULCAN FROM AN ANTIQUE GEM
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XVIII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE GRIEF OF ACHILLES, AND NEW ARMOUR MADE HIM BY VULCAN.
-
-
-The news of the death of Patroclus is brought to Achilles by
-Antilochus. Thetis, hearing his lamentations, comes with all her sea-
-nymphs to comfort him. The speeches of the mother and son on this
-occasion. Iris appears to Achilles by the command of Juno, and orders
-him to show himself at the head of the intrenchments. The sight of him
-turns the fortunes of the day, and the body of Patroclus is carried off
-by the Greeks. The Trojans call a council, where Hector and Polydamas
-disagree in their opinions: but the advice of the former prevails, to
-remain encamped in the field. The grief of Achilles over the body of
-Patroclus.
-    Thetis goes to the palace of Vulcan to obtain new arms for her son.
-    The description of the wonderful works of Vulcan: and, lastly, that
-    noble one of the shield of Achilles.
-    The latter part of the nine-and-twentieth day, and the night
-    ensuing, take up this book: the scene is at Achilles’ tent on the
-    sea-shore, from whence it changes to the palace of Vulcan.
-
-
-Thus like the rage of fire the combat burns,[250]
-And now it rises, now it sinks by turns.
-Meanwhile, where Hellespont’s broad waters flow,
-Stood Nestor’s son, the messenger of woe:
-There sat Achilles, shaded by his sails,
-On hoisted yards extended to the gales;
-Pensive he sat; for all that fate design’d
-Rose in sad prospect to his boding mind.
-Thus to his soul he said: “Ah! what constrains
-The Greeks, late victors, now to quit the plains?
-Is this the day, which heaven so long ago
-Ordain’d, to sink me with the weight of woe?
-(So Thetis warn’d;) when by a Trojan hand
-The bravest of the Myrmidonian band
-Should lose the light! Fulfilled is that decree;
-Fallen is the warrior, and Patroclus he!
-In vain I charged him soon to quit the plain,
-And warn’d to shun Hectorean force in vain!”
-
-Thus while he thinks, Antilochus appears,
-And tells the melancholy tale with tears.
-“Sad tidings, son of Peleus! thou must hear;
-And wretched I, the unwilling messenger!
-Dead is Patroclus! For his corse they fight;
-His naked corse: his arms are Hector’s right.”
-
-A sudden horror shot through all the chief,
-And wrapp’d his senses in the cloud of grief;
-Cast on the ground, with furious hands he spread
-The scorching ashes o’er his graceful head;
-His purple garments, and his golden hairs,
-Those he deforms with dust, and these he tears;
-On the hard soil his groaning breast he threw,
-And roll’d and grovell’d, as to earth he grew.
-The virgin captives, with disorder’d charms,
-(Won by his own, or by Patroclus’ arms,)
-Rush’d from their tents with cries; and gathering round,
-Beat their white breasts, and fainted on the ground:
-While Nestor’s son sustains a manlier part,
-And mourns the warrior with a warrior’s heart;
-Hangs on his arms, amidst his frantic woe,
-And oft prevents the meditated blow.
-
-Far in the deep abysses of the main,[251]
-With hoary Nereus, and the watery train,
-The mother-goddess from her crystal throne
-Heard his loud cries, and answer’d groan for groan.
-The circling Nereids with their mistress weep,
-And all the sea-green sisters of the deep.
-Thalia, Glauce (every watery name),
-Nesaea mild, and silver Spio came:
-Cymothoe and Cymodoce were nigh,
-And the blue languish of soft Alia’s eye.
-Their locks Actaea and Limnoria rear,
-Then Proto, Doris, Panope appear,
-Thoa, Pherusa, Doto, Melita;
-Agave gentle, and Amphithoe gay:
-Next Callianira, Callianassa show
-Their sister looks; Dexamene the slow,
-And swift Dynamene, now cut the tides:
-Iaera now the verdant wave divides:
-Nemertes with Apseudes lifts the head,
-Bright Galatea quits her pearly bed;
-These Orythia, Clymene, attend,
-Maera, Amphinome, the train extend;
-And black Janira, and Janassa fair,
-And Amatheia with her amber hair.
-All these, and all that deep in ocean held
-Their sacred seats, the glimmering grotto fill’d;
-Each beat her ivory breast with silent woe,
-Till Thetis’ sorrows thus began to flow:
-
-“Hear me, and judge, ye sisters of the main!
-How just a cause has Thetis to complain!
-How wretched, were I mortal, were my fate!
-How more than wretched in the immortal state!
-Sprung from my bed a godlike hero came,
-The bravest far that ever bore the name;
-Like some fair olive, by my careful hand
-He grew, he flourish’d and adorn’d the land!
-To Troy I sent him: but the fates ordain
-He never, never must return again.
-So short a space the light of heaven to view,
-So short, alas! and fill’d with anguish too!
-Hear how his sorrows echo through the shore!
-I cannot ease them, but I must deplore;
-I go at least to bear a tender part,
-And mourn my loved-one with a mother’s heart.”
-
-She said, and left the caverns of the main,
-All bathed in tears; the melancholy train
-Attend her way. Wide-opening part the tides,
-While the long pomp the silver wave divides.
-Approaching now, they touch’d the Trojan land;
-Then, two by two, ascended up the strand.
-The immortal mother, standing close beside
-Her mournful offspring, to his sighs replied;
-Along the coast their mingled clamours ran,
-And thus the silver-footed dame began:
-
-“Why mourns my son? thy late preferr’d request
-The god has granted, and the Greeks distress’d:
-Why mourns my son? thy anguish let me share,
-Reveal the cause, and trust a parent’s care.”
-
-He, deeply groaning—“To this cureless grief,
-Not even the Thunderer’s favour brings relief.
-Patroclus—Ah!—say, goddess, can I boast
-A pleasure now? revenge itself is lost;
-Patroclus, loved of all my martial train,
-Beyond mankind, beyond myself is slain!
-Lost are those arms the gods themselves bestow’d
-On Peleus; Hector bears the glorious load.
-Cursed be that day, when all the powers above
-Thy charms submitted to a mortal love:
-O hadst thou still, a sister of the main,
-Pursued the pleasures of the watery reign:
-And happier Peleus, less ambitious, led
-A mortal beauty to his equal bed!
-Ere the sad fruit of thy unhappy womb
-Had caused such sorrows past, and woes to come.
-For soon, alas! that wretched offspring slain,
-New woes, new sorrows, shall create again.
-’Tis not in fate the alternate now to give;
-Patroclus dead, Achilles hates to live.
-Let me revenge it on proud Hector’s heart,
-Let his last spirit smoke upon my dart;
-On these conditions will I breathe: till then,
-I blush to walk among the race of men.”
-
-A flood of tears, at this, the goddess shed:
-“Ah then, I see thee dying, see thee dead!
-When Hector falls, thou diest.”—“Let Hector die,
-And let me fall! (Achilles made reply)
-Far lies Patroclus from his native plain!
-He fell, and falling, wish’d my aid in vain.
-Ah then, since from this miserable day
-I cast all hope of my return away;
-Since, unrevenged, a hundred ghosts demand
-The fate of Hector from Achilles’ hand;
-Since here, for brutal courage far renown’d,
-I live an idle burden to the ground,
-(Others in council famed for nobler skill,
-More useful to preserve, than I to kill,)
-Let me—But oh! ye gracious powers above!
-Wrath and revenge from men and gods remove:
-Far, far too dear to every mortal breast,
-Sweet to the soul, as honey to the taste:
-Gathering like vapours of a noxious kind
-From fiery blood, and darkening all the mind.
-Me Agamemnon urged to deadly hate;
-’Tis past—I quell it; I resign to fate.
-Yes—I will meet the murderer of my friend;
-Or (if the gods ordain it) meet my end.
-The stroke of fate the strongest cannot shun:
-The great Alcides, Jove’s unequall’d son,
-To Juno’s hate, at length resign’d his breath,
-And sunk the victim of all-conquering death.
-So shall Achilles fall! stretch’d pale and dead,
-No more the Grecian hope, or Trojan dread!
-Let me, this instant, rush into the fields,
-And reap what glory life’s short harvest yields.
-Shall I not force some widow’d dame to tear
-With frantic hands her long dishevell’d hair?
-Shall I not force her breast to heave with sighs,
-And the soft tears to trickle from her eyes?
-Yes, I shall give the fair those mournful charms—
-In vain you hold me—Hence! my arms! my arms!—
-Soon shall the sanguine torrent spread so wide,
-That all shall know Achilles swells the tide.”
-
-“My son (coerulean Thetis made reply,
-To fate submitting with a secret sigh,)
-The host to succour, and thy friends to save,
-Is worthy thee; the duty of the brave.
-But canst thou, naked, issue to the plains?
-Thy radiant arms the Trojan foe detains.
-Insulting Hector bears the spoils on high,
-But vainly glories, for his fate is nigh.
-Yet, yet awhile thy generous ardour stay;
-Assured, I meet thee at the dawn of day,
-Charged with refulgent arms (a glorious load),
-Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god.”
-
-Then turning to the daughters of the main,
-The goddess thus dismiss’d her azure train:
-
-“Ye sister Nereids! to your deeps descend;
-Haste, and our father’s sacred seat attend;
-I go to find the architect divine,
-Where vast Olympus’ starry summits shine:
-So tell our hoary sire”—This charge she gave:
-The sea-green sisters plunge beneath the wave:
-Thetis once more ascends the bless’d abodes,
-And treads the brazen threshold of the gods.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THETIS ORDERING THE NEREIDS TO DESCEND INTO THE SEA
-
-
-And now the Greeks from furious Hector’s force,
-Urge to broad Hellespont their headlong course;
-Nor yet their chiefs Patroclus’ body bore
-Safe through the tempest to the tented shore.
-The horse, the foot, with equal fury join’d,
-Pour’d on the rear, and thunder’d close behind:
-And like a flame through fields of ripen’d corn,
-The rage of Hector o’er the ranks was borne.
-Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew;
-Thrice to the skies the Trojan clamours flew:
-As oft the Ajaces his assault sustain;
-But check’d, he turns; repuls’d, attacks again.
-With fiercer shouts his lingering troops he fires,
-Nor yields a step, nor from his post retires:
-So watchful shepherds strive to force, in vain,
-The hungry lion from a carcase slain.
-Even yet Patroclus had he borne away,
-And all the glories of the extended day,
-Had not high Juno from the realms of air,
-Secret, despatch’d her trusty messenger.
-The various goddess of the showery bow,
-Shot in a whirlwind to the shore below;
-To great Achilles at his ships she came,
-And thus began the many-colour’d dame:
-
-“Rise, son of Peleus! rise, divinely brave!
-Assist the combat, and Patroclus save:
-For him the slaughter to the fleet they spread,
-And fall by mutual wounds around the dead.
-To drag him back to Troy the foe contends:
-Nor with his death the rage of Hector ends:
-A prey to dogs he dooms the corse to lie,
-And marks the place to fix his head on high.
-Rise, and prevent (if yet you think of fame)
-Thy friend’s disgrace, thy own eternal shame!”
-
-“Who sends thee, goddess, from the ethereal skies?”
-Achilles thus. And Iris thus replies:
-
-“I come, Pelides! from the queen of Jove,
-The immortal empress of the realms above;
-Unknown to him who sits remote on high,
-Unknown to all the synod of the sky.”
-“Thou comest in vain (he cries, with fury warm’d);
-Arms I have none, and can I fight unarm’d?
-Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,
-Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of day
-Vulcanian arms: what other can I wield,
-Except the mighty Telamonian shield?
-That, in my friend’s defence, has Ajax spread,
-While his strong lance around him heaps the dead:
-The gallant chief defends Menoetius’ son,
-And does what his Achilles should have done.”
-
-“Thy want of arms (said Iris) well we know;
-But though unarm’d, yet clad in terrors, go!
-Let but Achilles o’er yon trench appear,
-Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;
-Greece from one glance of that tremendous eye
-Shall take new courage, and disdain to fly.”
-
-She spoke, and pass’d in air. The hero rose:
-Her ægis Pallas o’er his shoulder throws;
-Around his brows a golden cloud she spread;
-A stream of glory flamed above his head.
-As when from some beleaguer’d town arise
-The smokes, high curling to the shaded skies;
-(Seen from some island, o’er the main afar,
-When men distress’d hang out the sign of war;)
-Soon as the sun in ocean hides his rays,
-Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze;
-With long-projected beams the seas are bright,
-And heaven’s high arch reflects the ruddy light:
-So from Achilles’ head the splendours rise,
-Reflecting blaze on blaze against the skies.
-Forth march’d the chief, and distant from the crowd,
-High on the rampart raised his voice aloud;
-With her own shout Minerva swells the sound;
-Troy starts astonish’d, and the shores rebound.
-As the loud trumpet’s brazen mouth from far
-With shrilling clangour sounds the alarm of war,
-Struck from the walls, the echoes float on high,
-And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply;
-So high his brazen voice the hero rear’d:
-Hosts dropp’d their arms, and trembled as they heard:
-And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound,
-And steeds and men lie mingled on the ground.
-Aghast they see the living lightnings play,
-And turn their eyeballs from the flashing ray.
-Thrice from the trench his dreadful voice he raised,
-And thrice they fled, confounded and amazed.
-Twelve in the tumult wedged, untimely rush’d
-On their own spears, by their own chariots crush’d:
-While, shielded from the darts, the Greeks obtain
-The long-contended carcase of the slain.
-
-A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears:
-Around, his sad companions melt in tears.
-But chief Achilles, bending down his head,
-Pours unavailing sorrows o’er the dead,
-Whom late triumphant, with his steeds and car,
-He sent refulgent to the field of war;
-(Unhappy change!) now senseless, pale, he found,
-Stretch’d forth, and gash’d with many a gaping wound.
-
-Meantime, unwearied with his heavenly way,
-In ocean’s waves the unwilling light of day
-Quench’d his red orb, at Juno’s high command,
-And from their labours eased the Achaian band.
-The frighted Trojans (panting from the war,
-Their steeds unharness’d from the weary car)
-A sudden council call’d: each chief appear’d
-In haste, and standing; for to sit they fear’d.
-’Twas now no season for prolong’d debate;
-They saw Achilles, and in him their fate.
-Silent they stood: Polydamas at last,
-Skill’d to discern the future by the past,
-The son of Panthus, thus express’d his fears
-(The friend of Hector, and of equal years;
-The self-same night to both a being gave,
-One wise in council, one in action brave):
-
-
-[Illustration: ] JUNO COMMANDING THE SUN TO SET
-
-
-“In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak;
-For me, I move, before the morning break,
-To raise our camp: too dangerous here our post,
-Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast.
-I deem’d not Greece so dreadful, while engaged
-In mutual feuds her king and hero raged;
-Then, while we hoped our armies might prevail
-We boldly camp’d beside a thousand sail.
-I dread Pelides now: his rage of mind
-Not long continues to the shores confined,
-Nor to the fields, where long in equal fray
-Contending nations won and lost the day;
-For Troy, for Troy, shall henceforth be the strife,
-And the hard contest not for fame, but life.
-Haste then to Ilion, while the favouring night
-Detains these terrors, keeps that arm from fight.
-If but the morrow’s sun behold us here,
-That arm, those terrors, we shall feel, not fear;
-And hearts that now disdain, shall leap with joy,
-If heaven permit them then to enter Troy.
-Let not my fatal prophecy be true,
-Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue.
-Whatever be our fate, yet let us try
-What force of thought and reason can supply;
-Let us on counsel for our guard depend;
-The town her gates and bulwarks shall defend.
-When morning dawns, our well-appointed powers,
-Array’d in arms, shall line the lofty towers.
-Let the fierce hero, then, when fury calls,
-Vent his mad vengeance on our rocky walls,
-Or fetch a thousand circles round the plain,
-Till his spent coursers seek the fleet again:
-So may his rage be tired, and labour’d down!
-And dogs shall tear him ere he sack the town.”
-
-“Return! (said Hector, fired with stern disdain)
-What! coop whole armies in our walls again?
-Was’t not enough, ye valiant warriors, say,
-Nine years imprison’d in those towers ye lay?
-Wide o’er the world was Ilion famed of old
-For brass exhaustless, and for mines of gold:
-But while inglorious in her walls we stay’d,
-Sunk were her treasures, and her stores decay’d;
-The Phrygians now her scatter’d spoils enjoy,
-And proud Mæonia wastes the fruits of Troy.
-Great Jove at length my arms to conquest calls,
-And shuts the Grecians in their wooden walls,
-Darest thou dispirit whom the gods incite?
-Flies any Trojan? I shall stop his flight.
-To better counsel then attention lend;
-Take due refreshment, and the watch attend.
-If there be one whose riches cost him care,
-Forth let him bring them for the troops to share;
-’Tis better generously bestow’d on those,
-Than left the plunder of our country’s foes.
-Soon as the morn the purple orient warms,
-Fierce on yon navy will we pour our arms.
-If great Achilles rise in all his might,
-His be the danger: I shall stand the fight.
-Honour, ye gods! or let me gain or give;
-And live he glorious, whosoe’er shall live!
-Mars is our common lord, alike to all;
-And oft the victor triumphs, but to fall.”
-
-The shouting host in loud applauses join’d;
-So Pallas robb’d the many of their mind;
-To their own sense condemn’d, and left to choose
-The worst advice, the better to refuse.
-
-While the long night extends her sable reign,
-Around Patroclus mourn’d the Grecian train.
-Stern in superior grief Pelides stood;
-Those slaughtering arms, so used to bathe in blood,
-Now clasp his clay-cold limbs: then gushing start
-The tears, and sighs burst from his swelling heart.
-The lion thus, with dreadful anguish stung,
-Roars through the desert, and demands his young;
-When the grim savage, to his rifled den
-Too late returning, snuffs the track of men,
-And o’er the vales and o’er the forest bounds;
-His clamorous grief the bellowing wood resounds.
-So grieves Achilles; and, impetuous, vents
-To all his Myrmidons his loud laments.
-
-“In what vain promise, gods! did I engage,
-When to console Menoetius’ feeble age,
-I vowed his much-loved offspring to restore,
-Charged with rich spoils, to fair Opuntia’s shore?[252]
-But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain,
-The long, long views of poor designing man!
-One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike,
-And Troy’s black sands must drink our blood alike:
-Me too a wretched mother shall deplore,
-An aged father never see me more!
-Yet, my Patroclus! yet a space I stay,
-Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way.
-Ere thy dear relics in the grave are laid,
-Shall Hector’s head be offer’d to thy shade;
-That, with his arms, shall hang before thy shrine;
-And twelve, the noblest of the Trojan line,
-Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire;
-Their lives effused around thy flaming pyre.
-Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely press’d,
-Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast!
-While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay,
-Weep all the night and murmur all the day:
-Spoils of my arms, and thine; when, wasting wide,
-Our swords kept time, and conquer’d side by side.”
-
-He spoke, and bade the sad attendants round
-Cleanse the pale corse, and wash each honour’d wound.
-A massy caldron of stupendous frame
-They brought, and placed it o’er the rising flame:
-Then heap’d the lighted wood; the flame divides
-Beneath the vase, and climbs around the sides:
-In its wide womb they pour the rushing stream;
-The boiling water bubbles to the brim.
-The body then they bathe with pious toil,
-Embalm the wounds, anoint the limbs with oil,
-High on a bed of state extended laid,
-And decent cover’d with a linen shade;
-Last o’er the dead the milk-white veil they threw;
-That done, their sorrows and their sighs renew.
-
-Meanwhile to Juno, in the realms above,
-(His wife and sister,) spoke almighty Jove.
-“At last thy will prevails: great Peleus’ son
-Rises in arms: such grace thy Greeks have won.
-Say (for I know not), is their race divine,
-And thou the mother of that martial line?”
-
-“What words are these? (the imperial dame replies,
-While anger flash’d from her majestic eyes)
-Succour like this a mortal arm might lend,
-And such success mere human wit attend:
-And shall not I, the second power above,
-Heaven’s queen, and consort of the thundering Jove,
-Say, shall not I one nation’s fate command,
-Not wreak my vengeance on one guilty land?”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] TRIPOD
-
-
-So they. Meanwhile the silver-footed dame
-Reach’d the Vulcanian dome, eternal frame!
-High-eminent amid the works divine,
-Where heaven’s far-beaming brazen mansions shine.
-There the lame architect the goddess found,
-Obscure in smoke, his forges flaming round,
-While bathed in sweat from fire to fire he flew;
-And puffing loud, the roaring billows blew.
-That day no common task his labour claim’d:
-Full twenty tripods for his hall he framed,
-That placed on living wheels of massy gold,
-(Wondrous to tell,) instinct with spirit roll’d
-From place to place, around the bless’d abodes
-Self-moved, obedient to the beck of gods:
-For their fair handles now, o’erwrought with flowers,
-In moulds prepared, the glowing ore he pours.
-Just as responsive to his thought the frame
-Stood prompt to move, the azure goddess came:
-Charis, his spouse, a grace divinely fair,
-(With purple fillets round her braided hair,)
-Observed her entering; her soft hand she press’d,
-And, smiling, thus the watery queen address’d:
-
-“What, goddess! this unusual favour draws?
-All hail, and welcome! whatsoe’er the cause;
-Till now a stranger, in a happy hour
-Approach, and taste the dainties of the bower.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THETIS AND EURYNOME RECEIVING THE INFANT VULCAN
-
-
-High on a throne, with stars of silver graced,
-And various artifice, the queen she placed;
-A footstool at her feet: then calling, said,
-“Vulcan, draw near, ’tis Thetis asks your aid.”
-“Thetis (replied the god) our powers may claim,
-An ever-dear, an ever-honour’d name!
-When my proud mother hurl’d me from the sky,
-(My awkward form, it seems, displeased her eye,)
-She, and Eurynome, my griefs redress’d,
-And soft received me on their silver breast.
-Even then these arts employ’d my infant thought:
-Chains, bracelets, pendants, all their toys, I wrought.
-Nine years kept secret in the dark abode,
-Secure I lay, conceal’d from man and god:
-Deep in a cavern’d rock my days were led;
-The rushing ocean murmur’d o’er my head.
-Now, since her presence glads our mansion, say,
-For such desert what service can I pay?
-Vouchsafe, O Thetis! at our board to share
-The genial rites, and hospitable fare;
-While I the labours of the forge forego,
-And bid the roaring bellows cease to blow.”
-
-Then from his anvil the lame artist rose;
-Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes,
-And stills the bellows, and (in order laid)
-Locks in their chests his instruments of trade.
-Then with a sponge the sooty workman dress’d
-His brawny arms embrown’d, and hairy breast.
-With his huge sceptre graced, and red attire,
-Came halting forth the sovereign of the fire:
-The monarch’s steps two female forms uphold,
-That moved and breathed in animated gold;
-To whom was voice, and sense, and science given
-Of works divine (such wonders are in heaven!)
-On these supported, with unequal gait,
-He reach’d the throne where pensive Thetis sate;
-There placed beside her on the shining frame,
-He thus address’d the silver-footed dame:
-
-“Thee, welcome, goddess! what occasion calls
-(So long a stranger) to these honour’d walls?
-’Tis thine, fair Thetis, the command to lay,
-And Vulcan’s joy and duty to obey.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] VULCAN AND CHARIS RECEIVING THETIS
-
-
-To whom the mournful mother thus replies:
-(The crystal drops stood trembling in her eyes:)
-“O Vulcan! say, was ever breast divine
-So pierced with sorrows, so o’erwhelm’d as mine?
-Of all the goddesses, did Jove prepare
-For Thetis only such a weight of care?
-I, only I, of all the watery race
-By force subjected to a man’s embrace,
-Who, sinking now with age and sorrow, pays
-The mighty fine imposed on length of days.
-Sprung from my bed, a godlike hero came,
-The bravest sure that ever bore the name;
-Like some fair plant beneath my careful hand
-He grew, he flourish’d, and adorn’d the land!
-To Troy I sent him! but his native shore
-Never, ah never, shall receive him more;
-(Even while he lives, he wastes with secret woe;)
-Nor I, a goddess, can retard the blow!
-Robb’d of the prize the Grecian suffrage gave,
-The king of nations forced his royal slave:
-For this he grieved; and, till the Greeks oppress’d
-Required his arm, he sorrow’d unredress’d.
-Large gifts they promise, and their elders send;
-In vain—he arms not, but permits his friend
-His arms, his steeds, his forces to employ:
-He marches, combats, almost conquers Troy:
-Then slain by Phœbus (Hector had the name)
-At once resigns his armour, life, and fame.
-But thou, in pity, by my prayer be won:
-Grace with immortal arms this short-lived son,
-And to the field in martial pomp restore,
-To shine with glory, till he shines no more!”
-
-To her the artist-god: “Thy griefs resign,
-Secure, what Vulcan can, is ever thine.
-O could I hide him from the Fates, as well,
-Or with these hands the cruel stroke repel,
-As I shall forge most envied arms, the gaze
-Of wondering ages, and the world’s amaze!”
-
-Thus having said, the father of the fires
-To the black labours of his forge retires.
-Soon as he bade them blow, the bellows turn’d
-Their iron mouths; and where the furnace burn’d,
-Resounding breathed: at once the blast expires,
-And twenty forges catch at once the fires;
-Just as the god directs, now loud, now low,
-They raise a tempest, or they gently blow;
-In hissing flames huge silver bars are roll’d,
-And stubborn brass, and tin, and solid gold;
-Before, deep fix’d, the eternal anvils stand;
-The ponderous hammer loads his better hand,
-His left with tongs turns the vex’d metal round,
-And thick, strong strokes, the doubling vaults rebound.
-
-Then first he form’d the immense and solid shield;
-Rich various artifice emblazed the field;
-Its utmost verge a threefold circle bound;[253]
-A silver chain suspends the massy round;
-Five ample plates the broad expanse compose,
-And godlike labours on the surface rose.
-There shone the image of the master-mind:
-There earth, there heaven, there ocean he design’d;
-The unwearied sun, the moon completely round;
-The starry lights that heaven’s high convex crown’d;
-The Pleiads, Hyads, with the northern team;
-And great Orion’s more refulgent beam;
-To which, around the axle of the sky,
-The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye,
-Still shines exalted on the ethereal plain,
-Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.
-
-Two cities radiant on the shield appear,
-The image one of peace, and one of war.
-Here sacred pomp and genial feast delight,
-And solemn dance, and hymeneal rite;
-Along the street the new-made brides are led,
-With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed:
-The youthful dancers in a circle bound
-To the soft flute, and cithern’s silver sound:
-Through the fair streets the matrons in a row
-Stand in their porches, and enjoy the show.
-
-There in the forum swarm a numerous train;
-The subject of debate, a townsman slain:
-One pleads the fine discharged, which one denied,
-And bade the public and the laws decide:
-The witness is produced on either hand:
-For this, or that, the partial people stand:
-The appointed heralds still the noisy bands,
-And form a ring, with sceptres in their hands:
-On seats of stone, within the sacred place,[254]
-The reverend elders nodded o’er the case;
-Alternate, each the attesting sceptre took,
-And rising solemn, each his sentence spoke.
-Two golden talents lay amidst, in sight,
-The prize of him who best adjudged the right.
-
-Another part (a prospect differing far)[255]
-Glow’d with refulgent arms, and horrid war.
-Two mighty hosts a leaguer’d town embrace,
-And one would pillage, one would burn the place.
-Meantime the townsmen, arm’d with silent care,
-A secret ambush on the foe prepare:
-Their wives, their children, and the watchful band
-Of trembling parents, on the turrets stand.
-They march; by Pallas and by Mars made bold:
-Gold were the gods, their radiant garments gold,
-And gold their armour: these the squadron led,
-August, divine, superior by the head!
-A place for ambush fit they found, and stood,
-Cover’d with shields, beside a silver flood.
-Two spies at distance lurk, and watchful seem
-If sheep or oxen seek the winding stream.
-Soon the white flocks proceeded o’er the plains,
-And steers slow-moving, and two shepherd swains;
-Behind them piping on their reeds they go,
-Nor fear an ambush, nor suspect a foe.
-In arms the glittering squadron rising round
-Rush sudden; hills of slaughter heap the ground;
-Whole flocks and herds lie bleeding on the plains,
-And, all amidst them, dead, the shepherd swains!
-The bellowing oxen the besiegers hear;
-They rise, take horse, approach, and meet the war,
-They fight, they fall, beside the silver flood;
-The waving silver seem’d to blush with blood.
-There Tumult, there Contention stood confess’d;
-One rear’d a dagger at a captive’s breast;
-One held a living foe, that freshly bled
-With new-made wounds; another dragg’d a dead;
-Now here, now there, the carcases they tore:
-Fate stalk’d amidst them, grim with human gore.
-And the whole war came out, and met the eye;
-And each bold figure seem’d to live or die.
-
-A field deep furrow’d next the god design’d,[256]
-The third time labour’d by the sweating hind;
-The shining shares full many ploughmen guide,
-And turn their crooked yokes on every side.
-Still as at either end they wheel around,
-The master meets them with his goblet crown’d;
-The hearty draught rewards, renews their toil,
-Then back the turning ploughshares cleave the soil:
-Behind, the rising earth in ridges roll’d;
-And sable look’d, though form’d of molten gold.
-
-Another field rose high with waving grain;
-With bended sickles stand the reaper train:
-Here stretched in ranks the levell’d swarths are found,
-Sheaves heap’d on sheaves here thicken up the ground.
-With sweeping stroke the mowers strow the lands;
-The gatherers follow, and collect in bands;
-And last the children, in whose arms are borne
-(Too short to gripe them) the brown sheaves of corn.
-The rustic monarch of the field descries,
-With silent glee, the heaps around him rise.
-A ready banquet on the turf is laid,
-Beneath an ample oak’s expanded shade.
-The victim ox the sturdy youth prepare;
-The reaper’s due repast, the woman’s care.
-
-Next, ripe in yellow gold, a vineyard shines,
-Bent with the ponderous harvest of its vines;
-A deeper dye the dangling clusters show,
-And curl’d on silver props, in order glow:
-A darker metal mix’d intrench’d the place;
-And pales of glittering tin the inclosure grace.
-To this, one pathway gently winding leads,
-Where march a train with baskets on their heads,
-(Fair maids and blooming youths,) that smiling bear
-The purple product of the autumnal year.
-To these a youth awakes the warbling strings,
-Whose tender lay the fate of Linus sings;
-In measured dance behind him move the train,
-Tune soft the voice, and answer to the strain.
-
-Here herds of oxen march, erect and bold,
-Rear high their horns, and seem to low in gold,
-And speed to meadows on whose sounding shores
-A rapid torrent through the rushes roars:
-Four golden herdsmen as their guardians stand,
-And nine sour dogs complete the rustic band.
-Two lions rushing from the wood appear’d;
-And seized a bull, the master of the herd:
-He roar’d: in vain the dogs, the men withstood;
-They tore his flesh, and drank his sable blood.
-The dogs (oft cheer’d in vain) desert the prey,
-Dread the grim terrors, and at distance bay.
-
-Next this, the eye the art of Vulcan leads
-Deep through fair forests, and a length of meads,
-And stalls, and folds, and scatter’d cots between;
-And fleecy flocks, that whiten all the scene.
-
-A figured dance succeeds; such once was seen
-In lofty Gnossus for the Cretan queen,
-Form’d by Daedalean art; a comely band
-Of youths and maidens, bounding hand in hand.
-The maids in soft simars of linen dress’d;
-The youths all graceful in the glossy vest:
-Of those the locks with flowery wreath inroll’d;
-Of these the sides adorn’d with swords of gold,
-That glittering gay, from silver belts depend.
-Now all at once they rise, at once descend,
-With well-taught feet: now shape in oblique ways,
-Confusedly regular, the moving maze:
-Now forth at once, too swift for sight, they spring,
-And undistinguish’d blend the flying ring:
-So whirls a wheel, in giddy circle toss’d,
-And, rapid as it runs, the single spokes are lost.
-The gazing multitudes admire around:
-Two active tumblers in the centre bound;
-Now high, now low, their pliant limbs they bend:
-And general songs the sprightly revel end.
-
-Thus the broad shield complete the artist crown’d
-With his last hand, and pour’d the ocean round:
-In living silver seem’d the waves to roll,
-And beat the buckler’s verge, and bound the whole.
-
-This done, whate’er a warrior’s use requires
-He forged; the cuirass that outshone the fires,
-The greaves of ductile tin, the helm impress’d
-With various sculpture, and the golden crest.
-At Thetis’ feet the finished labour lay:
-She, as a falcon cuts the aerial way,
-Swift from Olympus’ snowy summit flies,
-And bears the blazing present through the skies.[257]
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XIX.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE RECONCILIATION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.
-
-
-Thetis brings to her son the armour made by Vulcan. She preserves the
-body of his friend from corruption, and commands him to assemble the
-army, to declare his resentment at an end. Agamemnon and Achilles are
-solemnly reconciled: the speeches, presents, and ceremonies on that
-occasion. Achilles is with great difficulty persuaded to refrain from
-the battle till the troops have refreshed themselves by the advice of
-Ulysses. The presents are conveyed to the tent of Achilles, where
-Briseïs laments over the body of Patroclus. The hero obstinately
-refuses all repast, and gives himself up to lamentations for his
-friend. Minerva descends to strengthen him, by the order of Jupiter. He
-arms for the fight: his appearance described. He addresses himself to
-his horses, and reproaches them with the death of Patroclus. One of
-them is miraculously endued with voice, and inspired to prophesy his
-fate: but the hero, not astonished by that prodigy, rushes with fury to
-the combat.
-    The thirtieth day. The scene is on the sea-shore.
-
-
-Soon as Aurora heaved her Orient head
-Above the waves, that blush’d with early red,
-(With new-born day to gladden mortal sight,
-And gild the courts of heaven with sacred light,)
-The immortal arms the goddess-mother bears
-Swift to her son: her son she finds in tears
-Stretch’d o’er Patroclus’ corse; while all the rest
-Their sovereign’s sorrows in their own express’d.
-A ray divine her heavenly presence shed,
-And thus, his hand soft touching, Thetis said:
-
-“Suppress, my son, this rage of grief, and know
-It was not man, but heaven, that gave the blow;
-Behold what arms by Vulcan are bestow’d,
-Arms worthy thee, or fit to grace a god.”
-
-Then drops the radiant burden on the ground;
-Clang the strong arms, and ring the shores around;
-Back shrink the Myrmidons with dread surprise,
-And from the broad effulgence turn their eyes.
-Unmoved the hero kindles at the show,
-And feels with rage divine his bosom glow;
-From his fierce eyeballs living flames expire,
-And flash incessant like a stream of fire:
-He turns the radiant gift: and feeds his mind
-On all the immortal artist had design’d.
-
-“Goddess! (he cried,) these glorious arms, that shine
-With matchless art, confess the hand divine.
-Now to the bloody battle let me bend:
-But ah! the relics of my slaughter’d friend!
-In those wide wounds through which his spirit fled,
-Shall flies, and worms obscene, pollute the dead?”
-
-“That unavailing care be laid aside,
-(The azure goddess to her son replied,)
-Whole years untouch’d, uninjured shall remain,
-Fresh as in life, the carcase of the slain.
-But go, Achilles, as affairs require,
-Before the Grecian peers renounce thine ire:
-Then uncontroll’d in boundless war engage,
-And heaven with strength supply the mighty rage!”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THETIS BRINGING THE ARMOUR TO ACHILLES
-
-
-Then in the nostrils of the slain she pour’d
-Nectareous drops, and rich ambrosia shower’d
-O’er all the corse. The flies forbid their prey,
-Untouch’d it rests, and sacred from decay.
-Achilles to the strand obedient went:
-The shores resounded with the voice he sent.
-The heroes heard, and all the naval train
-That tend the ships, or guide them o’er the main,
-Alarm’d, transported, at the well-known sound,
-Frequent and full, the great assembly crown’d;
-Studious to see the terror of the plain,
-Long lost to battle, shine in arms again.
-Tydides and Ulysses first appear,
-Lame with their wounds, and leaning on the spear;
-These on the sacred seats of council placed,
-The king of men, Atrides, came the last:
-He too sore wounded by Agenor’s son.
-Achilles (rising in the midst) begun:
-
-“O monarch! better far had been the fate
-Of thee, of me, of all the Grecian state,
-If (ere the day when by mad passion sway’d,
-Rash we contended for the black-eyed maid)
-Preventing Dian had despatch’d her dart,
-And shot the shining mischief to the heart!
-Then many a hero had not press’d the shore,
-Nor Troy’s glad fields been fatten’d with our gore.
-Long, long shall Greece the woes we caused bewail,
-And sad posterity repeat the tale.
-But this, no more the subject of debate,
-Is past, forgotten, and resign’d to fate.
-Why should, alas, a mortal man, as I,
-Burn with a fury that can never die?
-Here then my anger ends: let war succeed,
-And even as Greece has bled, let Ilion bleed.
-Now call the hosts, and try if in our sight
-Troy yet shall dare to camp a second night!
-I deem, their mightiest, when this arm he knows,
-Shall ’scape with transport, and with joy repose.”
-
-He said: his finish’d wrath with loud acclaim
-The Greeks accept, and shout Pelides’ name.
-When thus, not rising from his lofty throne,
-In state unmoved, the king of men begun:
-
-“Hear me, ye sons of Greece! with silence hear!
-And grant your monarch an impartial ear:
-Awhile your loud, untimely joy suspend,
-And let your rash, injurious clamours end:
-Unruly murmurs, or ill-timed applause,
-Wrong the best speaker, and the justest cause.
-Nor charge on me, ye Greeks, the dire debate:
-Know, angry Jove, and all-compelling Fate,
-With fell Erinnys, urged my wrath that day
-When from Achilles’ arms I forced the prey.
-What then could I against the will of heaven?
-Not by myself, but vengeful Ate driven;
-She, Jove’s dread daughter, fated to infest
-The race of mortals, enter’d in my breast.
-Not on the ground that haughty fury treads,
-But prints her lofty footsteps on the heads
-Of mighty men; inflicting as she goes
-Long-festering wounds, inextricable woes!
-Of old, she stalk’d amid the bright abodes;
-And Jove himself, the sire of men and gods,
-The world’s great ruler, felt her venom’d dart;
-Deceived by Juno’s wiles, and female art:
-For when Alcmena’s nine long months were run,
-And Jove expected his immortal son,
-To gods and goddesses the unruly joy
-He show’d, and vaunted of his matchless boy:
-‘From us, (he said) this day an infant springs,
-Fated to rule, and born a king of kings.’
-Saturnia ask’d an oath, to vouch the truth,
-And fix dominion on the favour’d youth.
-The Thunderer, unsuspicious of the fraud,
-Pronounced those solemn words that bind a god.
-The joyful goddess, from Olympus’ height,
-Swift to Achaian Argos bent her flight:
-Scarce seven moons gone, lay Sthenelus’s wife;
-She push’d her lingering infant into life:
-Her charms Alcmena’s coming labours stay,
-And stop the babe, just issuing to the day.
-Then bids Saturnius bear his oath in mind;
-‘A youth (said she) of Jove’s immortal kind
-Is this day born: from Sthenelus he springs,
-And claims thy promise to be king of kings.’
-Grief seized the Thunderer, by his oath engaged;
-Stung to the soul, he sorrow’d, and he raged.
-From his ambrosial head, where perch’d she sate,
-He snatch’d the fury-goddess of debate,
-The dread, the irrevocable oath he swore,
-The immortal seats should ne’er behold her more;
-And whirl’d her headlong down, for ever driven
-From bright Olympus and the starry heaven:
-Thence on the nether world the fury fell;
-Ordain’d with man’s contentious race to dwell.
-Full oft the god his son’s hard toils bemoan’d,
-Cursed the dire fury, and in secret groan’d.[258]
-Even thus, like Jove himself, was I misled,
-While raging Hector heap’d our camps with dead.
-What can the errors of my rage atone?
-My martial troops, my treasures are thy own:
-This instant from the navy shall be sent
-Whate’er Ulysses promised at thy tent:
-But thou! appeased, propitious to our prayer,
-Resume thy arms, and shine again in war.”
-
-“O king of nations! whose superior sway
-(Returns Achilles) all our hosts obey!
-To keep or send the presents, be thy care;
-To us, ’tis equal: all we ask is war.
-While yet we talk, or but an instant shun
-The fight, our glorious work remains undone.
-Let every Greek, who sees my spear confound
-The Trojan ranks, and deal destruction round,
-With emulation, what I act survey,
-And learn from thence the business of the day.”
-
-The son of Peleus thus; and thus replies
-The great in councils, Ithacus the wise:
-“Though, godlike, thou art by no toils oppress’d,
-At least our armies claim repast and rest:
-Long and laborious must the combat be,
-When by the gods inspired, and led by thee.
-Strength is derived from spirits and from blood,
-And those augment by generous wine and food:
-What boastful son of war, without that stay,
-Can last a hero through a single day?
-Courage may prompt; but, ebbing out his strength,
-Mere unsupported man must yield at length;
-Shrunk with dry famine, and with toils declined,
-The drooping body will desert the mind:
-But built anew with strength-conferring fare,
-With limbs and soul untamed, he tires a war.
-Dismiss the people, then, and give command,
-With strong repast to hearten every band;
-But let the presents to Achilles made,
-In full assembly of all Greece be laid.
-The king of men shall rise in public sight,
-And solemn swear (observant of the rite)
-That, spotless, as she came, the maid removes,
-Pure from his arms, and guiltless of his loves.
-That done, a sumptuous banquet shall be made,
-And the full price of injured honour paid.
-Stretch not henceforth, O prince! thy sovereign might
-Beyond the bounds of reason and of right;
-’Tis the chief praise that e’er to kings belong’d,
-To right with justice whom with power they wrong’d.”
-
-To him the monarch: “Just is thy decree,
-Thy words give joy, and wisdom breathes in thee.
-Each due atonement gladly I prepare;
-And heaven regard me as I justly swear!
-Here then awhile let Greece assembled stay,
-Nor great Achilles grudge this short delay.
-Till from the fleet our presents be convey’d,
-And Jove attesting, the firm compact made.
-A train of noble youths the charge shall bear;
-These to select, Ulysses, be thy care:
-In order rank’d let all our gifts appear,
-And the fair train of captives close the rear:
-Talthybius shall the victim boar convey,
-Sacred to Jove, and yon bright orb of day.”
-
-“For this (the stern Æacides replies)
-Some less important season may suffice,
-When the stern fury of the war is o’er,
-And wrath, extinguish’d, burns my breast no more.
-By Hector slain, their faces to the sky,
-All grim with gaping wounds, our heroes lie:
-Those call to war! and might my voice incite,
-Now, now, this instant, shall commence the fight:
-Then, when the day’s complete, let generous bowls,
-And copious banquets, glad your weary souls.
-Let not my palate know the taste of food,
-Till my insatiate rage be cloy’d with blood:
-Pale lies my friend, with wounds disfigured o’er,
-And his cold feet are pointed to the door.
-Revenge is all my soul! no meaner care,
-Interest, or thought, has room to harbour there;
-Destruction be my feast, and mortal wounds,
-And scenes of blood, and agonizing sounds.”
-
-“O first of Greeks, (Ulysses thus rejoin’d,)
-The best and bravest of the warrior kind!
-Thy praise it is in dreadful camps to shine,
-But old experience and calm wisdom mine.
-Then hear my counsel, and to reason yield,
-The bravest soon are satiate of the field;
-Though vast the heaps that strow the crimson plain,
-The bloody harvest brings but little gain:
-The scale of conquest ever wavering lies,
-Great Jove but turns it, and the victor dies!
-The great, the bold, by thousands daily fall,
-And endless were the grief, to weep for all.
-Eternal sorrows what avails to shed?
-Greece honours not with solemn fasts the dead:
-Enough, when death demands the brave, to pay
-The tribute of a melancholy day.
-One chief with patience to the grave resign’d,
-Our care devolves on others left behind.
-Let generous food supplies of strength produce,
-Let rising spirits flow from sprightly juice,
-Let their warm heads with scenes of battle glow,
-And pour new furies on the feebler foe.
-Yet a short interval, and none shall dare
-Expect a second summons to the war;
-Who waits for that, the dire effects shall find,
-If trembling in the ships he lags behind.
-Embodied, to the battle let us bend,
-And all at once on haughty Troy descend.”
-
-And now the delegates Ulysses sent,
-To bear the presents from the royal tent:
-The sons of Nestor, Phyleus’ valiant heir,
-Thias and Merion, thunderbolts of war,
-With Lycomedes of Creiontian strain,
-And Melanippus, form’d the chosen train.
-Swift as the word was given, the youths obey’d:
-Twice ten bright vases in the midst they laid;
-A row of six fair tripods then succeeds;
-And twice the number of high-bounding steeds:
-Seven captives next a lovely line compose;
-The eighth Briseïs, like the blooming rose,
-Closed the bright band: great Ithacus, before,
-First of the train, the golden talents bore:
-The rest in public view the chiefs dispose,
-A splendid scene! then Agamemnon rose:
-The boar Talthybius held: the Grecian lord
-Drew the broad cutlass sheath’d beside his sword:
-The stubborn bristles from the victim’s brow
-He crops, and offering meditates his vow.
-His hands uplifted to the attesting skies,
-On heaven’s broad marble roof were fixed his eyes.
-The solemn words a deep attention draw,
-And Greece around sat thrill’d with sacred awe.
-
-“Witness thou first! thou greatest power above,
-All-good, all-wise, and all-surveying Jove!
-And mother-earth, and heaven’s revolving light,
-And ye, fell furies of the realms of night,
-Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare
-For perjured kings, and all who falsely swear!
-The black-eyed maid inviolate removes,
-Pure and unconscious of my manly loves.
-If this be false, heaven all its vengeance shed,
-And levell’d thunder strike my guilty head!”
-
-With that, his weapon deep inflicts the wound;
-The bleeding savage tumbles to the ground;
-The sacred herald rolls the victim slain
-(A feast for fish) into the foaming main.
-
-Then thus Achilles: “Hear, ye Greeks! and know
-Whate’er we feel, ’tis Jove inflicts the woe;
-Not else Atrides could our rage inflame,
-Nor from my arms, unwilling, force the dame.
-’Twas Jove’s high will alone, o’erruling all,
-That doom’d our strife, and doom’d the Greeks to fall.
-Go then, ye chiefs! indulge the genial rite;
-Achilles waits ye, and expects the fight.”
-
-The speedy council at his word adjourn’d:
-To their black vessels all the Greeks return’d.
-Achilles sought his tent. His train before
-March’d onward, bending with the gifts they bore.
-Those in the tents the squires industrious spread:
-The foaming coursers to the stalls they led;
-To their new seats the female captives move.
-Briseïs, radiant as the queen of love,
-Slow as she pass’d, beheld with sad survey
-Where, gash’d with cruel wounds, Patroclus lay.
-Prone on the body fell the heavenly fair,
-Beat her sad breast, and tore her golden hair;
-All beautiful in grief, her humid eyes
-Shining with tears she lifts, and thus she cries:
-
-“Ah, youth for ever dear, for ever kind,
-Once tender friend of my distracted mind!
-I left thee fresh in life, in beauty gay;
-Now find thee cold, inanimated clay!
-What woes my wretched race of life attend!
-Sorrows on sorrows, never doom’d to end!
-The first loved consort of my virgin bed
-Before these eyes in fatal battle bled:
-My three brave brothers in one mournful day
-All trod the dark, irremeable way:
-Thy friendly hand uprear’d me from the plain,
-And dried my sorrows for a husband slain;
-Achilles’ care you promised I should prove,
-The first, the dearest partner of his love;
-That rites divine should ratify the band,
-And make me empress in his native land.
-Accept these grateful tears! for thee they flow,
-For thee, that ever felt another’s woe!”
-
-Her sister captives echoed groan for groan,
-Nor mourn’d Patroclus’ fortunes, but their own.
-The leaders press’d the chief on every side;
-Unmoved he heard them, and with sighs denied.
-
-“If yet Achilles have a friend, whose care
-Is bent to please him, this request forbear;
-Till yonder sun descend, ah, let me pay
-To grief and anguish one abstemious day.”
-
-He spoke, and from the warriors turn’d his face:
-Yet still the brother-kings of Atreus’ race.
-Nestor, Idomeneus, Ulysses sage,
-And Phœnix, strive to calm his grief and rage:
-His rage they calm not, nor his grief control;
-He groans, he raves, he sorrows from his soul.
-
-“Thou too, Patroclus! (thus his heart he vents)
-Once spread the inviting banquet in our tents:
-Thy sweet society, thy winning care,
-Once stay’d Achilles, rushing to the war.
-But now, alas! to death’s cold arms resign’d,
-What banquet but revenge can glad my mind?
-What greater sorrow could afflict my breast,
-What more if hoary Peleus were deceased?
-Who now, perhaps, in Phthia dreads to hear
-His son’s sad fate, and drops a tender tear.
-What more, should Neoptolemus the brave,
-My only offspring, sink into the grave?
-If yet that offspring lives; (I distant far,
-Of all neglectful, wage a hateful war.)
-I could not this, this cruel stroke attend;
-Fate claim’d Achilles, but might spare his friend.
-I hoped Patroclus might survive, to rear
-My tender orphan with a parent’s care,
-From Scyros’ isle conduct him o’er the main,
-And glad his eyes with his paternal reign,
-The lofty palace, and the large domain.
-For Peleus breathes no more the vital air;
-Or drags a wretched life of age and care,
-But till the news of my sad fate invades
-His hastening soul, and sinks him to the shades.”
-
-Sighing he said: his grief the heroes join’d,
-Each stole a tear for what he left behind.
-Their mingled grief the sire of heaven survey’d,
-And thus with pity to his blue-eyed maid:
-
-“Is then Achilles now no more thy care,
-And dost thou thus desert the great in war?
-Lo, where yon sails their canvas wings extend,
-All comfortless he sits, and wails his friend:
-Ere thirst and want his forces have oppress’d,
-Haste and infuse ambrosia in his breast.”
-
-He spoke; and sudden, at the word of Jove,
-Shot the descending goddess from above.
-So swift through ether the shrill harpy springs,
-The wide air floating to her ample wings,
-To great Achilles she her flight address’d,
-And pour’d divine ambrosia in his breast,[259]
-With nectar sweet, (refection of the gods!)
-Then, swift ascending, sought the bright abodes.
-
-Now issued from the ships the warrior-train,
-And like a deluge pour’d upon the plain.
-As when the piercing blasts of Boreas blow,
-And scatter o’er the fields the driving snow;
-From dusky clouds the fleecy winter flies,
-Whose dazzling lustre whitens all the skies:
-So helms succeeding helms, so shields from shields,
-Catch the quick beams, and brighten all the fields;
-Broad glittering breastplates, spears with pointed rays,
-Mix in one stream, reflecting blaze on blaze;
-Thick beats the centre as the coursers bound;
-With splendour flame the skies, and laugh the fields around,
-
-Full in the midst, high-towering o’er the rest,
-His limbs in arms divine Achilles dress’d;
-Arms which the father of the fire bestow’d,
-Forged on the eternal anvils of the god.
-Grief and revenge his furious heart inspire,
-His glowing eyeballs roll with living fire;
-He grinds his teeth, and furious with delay
-O’erlooks the embattled host, and hopes the bloody day.
-
-The silver cuishes first his thighs infold;
-Then o’er his breast was braced the hollow gold;
-The brazen sword a various baldric tied,
-That, starr’d with gems, hung glittering at his side;
-And, like the moon, the broad refulgent shield
-Blazed with long rays, and gleam’d athwart the field.
-
-So to night-wandering sailors, pale with fears,
-Wide o’er the watery waste, a light appears,
-Which on the far-seen mountain blazing high,
-Streams from some lonely watch-tower to the sky:
-With mournful eyes they gaze, and gaze again;
-Loud howls the storm, and drives them o’er the main.
-
-Next, his high head the helmet graced; behind
-The sweepy crest hung floating in the wind:
-Like the red star, that from his flaming hair
-Shakes down diseases, pestilence, and war;
-So stream’d the golden honours from his head,
-Trembled the sparkling plumes, and the loose glories shed.
-The chief beholds himself with wondering eyes;
-His arms he poises, and his motions tries;
-Buoy’d by some inward force, he seems to swim,
-And feels a pinion lifting every limb.
-
-And now he shakes his great paternal spear,
-Ponderous and huge, which not a Greek could rear,
-From Pelion’s cloudy top an ash entire
-Old Chiron fell’d, and shaped it for his sire;
-A spear which stern Achilles only wields,
-The death of heroes, and the dread of fields.
-
-Automedon and Alcimus prepare
-The immortal coursers, and the radiant car;
-(The silver traces sweeping at their side;)
-Their fiery mouths resplendent bridles tied;
-The ivory-studded reins, return’d behind,
-Waved o’er their backs, and to the chariot join’d.
-The charioteer then whirl’d the lash around,
-And swift ascended at one active bound.
-All bright in heavenly arms, above his squire
-Achilles mounts, and sets the field on fire;
-Not brighter Phœbus in the ethereal way
-Flames from his chariot, and restores the day.
-High o’er the host, all terrible he stands,
-And thunders to his steeds these dread commands:
-
-“Xanthus and Balius! of Podarges’ strain,
-(Unless ye boast that heavenly race in vain,)
-Be swift, be mindful of the load ye bear,
-And learn to make your master more your care:
-Through falling squadrons bear my slaughtering sword,
-Nor, as ye left Patroclus, leave your lord.”
-
-The generous Xanthus, as the words he said,
-Seem’d sensible of woe, and droop’d his head:
-Trembling he stood before the golden wain,
-And bow’d to dust the honours of his mane.
-When, strange to tell! (so Juno will’d) he broke
-Eternal silence, and portentous spoke.
-“Achilles! yes! this day at least we bear
-Thy rage in safety through the files of war:
-But come it will, the fatal time must come,
-Not ours the fault, but God decrees thy doom.
-Not through our crime, or slowness in the course,
-Fell thy Patroclus, but by heavenly force;
-The bright far-shooting god who gilds the day
-(Confess’d we saw him) tore his arms away.
-No—could our swiftness o’er the winds prevail,
-Or beat the pinions of the western gale,
-All were in vain—the Fates thy death demand,
-Due to a mortal and immortal hand.”
-
-Then ceased for ever, by the Furies tied,
-His fateful voice. The intrepid chief replied
-With unabated rage—“So let it be!
-Portents and prodigies are lost on me.
-I know my fate: to die, to see no more
-My much-loved parents, and my native shore—
-Enough—when heaven ordains, I sink in night:
-Now perish Troy!” He said, and rush’d to fight.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HERCULES
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XX.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE BATTLE OF THE GODS, AND THE ACTS OF ACHILLES.
-
-
-Jupiter, upon Achilles’ return to the battle, calls a council of the
-gods, and permits them to assist either party. The terrors of the
-combat described, when the deities are engaged. Apollo encourages Æneas
-to meet Achilles. After a long conversation, these two heroes
-encounter; but Æneas is preserved by the assistance of Neptune.
-Achilles falls upon the rest of the Trojans, and is upon the point of
-killing Hector, but Apollo conveys him away in a cloud. Achilles
-pursues the Trojans with a great slaughter.
-    The same day continues. The scene is in the field before Troy.
-
-
-Thus round Pelides breathing war and blood
-Greece, sheathed in arms, beside her vessels stood;
-While near impending from a neighbouring height,
-Troy’s black battalions wait the shock of fight.
-Then Jove to Themis gives command, to call
-The gods to council in the starry hall:
-Swift o’er Olympus’ hundred hills she flies,
-And summons all the senate of the skies.
-These shining on, in long procession come
-To Jove’s eternal adamantine dome.
-Not one was absent, not a rural power
-That haunts the verdant gloom, or rosy bower;
-Each fair-hair’d dryad of the shady wood,
-Each azure sister of the silver flood;
-All but old Ocean, hoary sire! who keeps
-His ancient seat beneath the sacred deeps.
-On marble thrones, with lucid columns crown’d,
-(The work of Vulcan,) sat the powers around.
-Even he whose trident sways the watery reign
-Heard the loud summons, and forsook the main,
-Assumed his throne amid the bright abodes,
-And question’d thus the sire of men and gods:
-
-“What moves the god who heaven and earth commands,
-And grasps the thunder in his awful hands,
-Thus to convene the whole ethereal state?
-Is Greece and Troy the subject in debate?
-Already met, the louring hosts appear,
-And death stands ardent on the edge of war.”
-
-“’Tis true (the cloud-compelling power replies)
-This day we call the council of the skies
-In care of human race; even Jove’s own eye
-Sees with regret unhappy mortals die.
-Far on Olympus’ top in secret state
-Ourself will sit, and see the hand of fate
-Work out our will. Celestial powers! descend,
-And as your minds direct, your succour lend
-To either host. Troy soon must lie o’erthrown,
-If uncontroll’d Achilles fights alone:
-Their troops but lately durst not meet his eyes;
-What can they now, if in his rage he rise?
-Assist them, gods! or Ilion’s sacred wall
-May fall this day, though fate forbids the fall.”
-He said, and fired their heavenly breasts with rage.
-
-On adverse parts the warring gods engage:
-Heaven’s awful queen; and he whose azure round
-Girds the vast globe; the maid in arms renown’d;
-Hermes, of profitable arts the sire;
-And Vulcan, the black sovereign of the fire:
-These to the fleet repair with instant flight;
-The vessels tremble as the gods alight.
-In aid of Troy, Latona, Phœbus came,
-Mars fiery-helm’d, the laughter-loving dame,
-Xanthus, whose streams in golden currents flow,
-And the chaste huntress of the silver bow.
-Ere yet the gods their various aid employ,
-Each Argive bosom swell’d with manly joy,
-While great Achilles (terror of the plain),
-Long lost to battle, shone in arms again.
-Dreadful he stood in front of all his host;
-Pale Troy beheld, and seem’d already lost;
-Her bravest heroes pant with inward fear,
-And trembling see another god of war.
-
-But when the powers descending swell’d the fight,
-Then tumult rose: fierce rage and pale affright
-Varied each face: then Discord sounds alarms,
-Earth echoes, and the nations rush to arms.
-Now through the trembling shores Minerva calls,
-And now she thunders from the Grecian walls.
-Mars hovering o’er his Troy, his terror shrouds
-In gloomy tempests, and a night of clouds:
-Now through each Trojan heart he fury pours
-With voice divine, from Ilion’s topmost towers:
-Now shouts to Simois, from her beauteous hill;
-The mountain shook, the rapid stream stood still.
-
-Above, the sire of gods his thunder rolls,
-And peals on peals redoubled rend the poles.
-Beneath, stern Neptune shakes the solid ground;
-The forests wave, the mountains nod around;
-Through all their summits tremble Ida’s woods,
-And from their sources boil her hundred floods.
-Troy’s turrets totter on the rocking plain,
-And the toss’d navies beat the heaving main.
-Deep in the dismal regions of the dead,[260]
-The infernal monarch rear’d his horrid head,
-Leap’d from his throne, lest Neptune’s arm should lay
-His dark dominions open to the day,
-And pour in light on Pluto’s drear abodes,
-Abhorr’d by men, and dreadful even to gods.[261]
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE GODS DESCENDING TO BATTLE
-
-
-Such war the immortals wage; such horrors rend
-The world’s vast concave, when the gods contend.
-First silver-shafted Phœbus took the plain
-Against blue Neptune, monarch of the main.
-The god of arms his giant bulk display’d,
-Opposed to Pallas, war’s triumphant maid.
-Against Latona march’d the son of May.
-The quiver’d Dian, sister of the day,
-(Her golden arrows sounding at her side,)
-Saturnia, majesty of heaven, defied.
-With fiery Vulcan last in battle stands
-The sacred flood that rolls on golden sands;
-Xanthus his name with those of heavenly birth,
-But called Scamander by the sons of earth.
-
-While thus the gods in various league engage,
-Achilles glow’d with more than mortal rage:
-Hector he sought; in search of Hector turn’d
-His eyes around, for Hector only burn’d;
-And burst like lightning through the ranks, and vow’d
-To glut the god of battles with his blood.
-
-Æneas was the first who dared to stay;
-Apollo wedged him in the warrior’s way,
-But swell’d his bosom with undaunted might,
-Half-forced and half-persuaded to the fight.
-Like young Lycaon, of the royal line,
-In voice and aspect, seem’d the power divine;
-And bade the chief reflect, how late with scorn
-In distant threats he braved the goddess-born.
-
-Then thus the hero of Anchises’ strain:
-“To meet Pelides you persuade in vain:
-Already have I met, nor void of fear
-Observed the fury of his flying spear;
-From Ida’s woods he chased us to the field,
-Our force he scattered, and our herds he kill’d;
-Lyrnessus, Pedasus in ashes lay;
-But (Jove assisting) I survived the day:
-Else had I sunk oppress’d in fatal fight
-By fierce Achilles and Minerva’s might.
-Where’er he moved, the goddess shone before,
-And bathed his brazen lance in hostile gore.
-What mortal man Achilles can sustain?
-The immortals guard him through the dreadful plain,
-And suffer not his dart to fall in vain.
-Were God my aid, this arm should check his power,
-Though strong in battle as a brazen tower.”
-
-To whom the son of Jove: “That god implore,
-And be what great Achilles was before.
-From heavenly Venus thou deriv’st thy strain,
-And he but from a sister of the main;
-An aged sea-god father of his line;
-But Jove himself the sacred source of thine.
-Then lift thy weapon for a noble blow,
-Nor fear the vaunting of a mortal foe.”
-
-This said, and spirit breathed into his breast,
-Through the thick troops the embolden’d hero press’d:
-His venturous act the white-arm’d queen survey’d,
-And thus, assembling all the powers, she said:
-
-“Behold an action, gods! that claims your care,
-Lo great Æneas rushing to the war!
-Against Pelides he directs his course,
-Phœbus impels, and Phœbus gives him force.
-Restrain his bold career; at least, to attend
-Our favour’d hero, let some power descend.
-To guard his life, and add to his renown,
-We, the great armament of heaven, came down.
-Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design,
-That spun so short his life’s illustrious line:[262]
-But lest some adverse god now cross his way,
-Give him to know what powers assist this day:
-For how shall mortal stand the dire alarms,
-When heaven’s refulgent host appear in arms?”[263]
-
-Thus she; and thus the god whose force can make
-The solid globe’s eternal basis shake:
-“Against the might of man, so feeble known,
-Why should celestial powers exert their own?
-Suffice from yonder mount to view the scene,
-And leave to war the fates of mortal men.
-But if the armipotent, or god of light,
-Obstruct Achilles, or commence the fight,
-Thence on the gods of Troy we swift descend:
-Full soon, I doubt not, shall the conflict end;
-And these, in ruin and confusion hurl’d,
-Yield to our conquering arms the lower world.”
-
-Thus having said, the tyrant of the sea,
-Coerulean Neptune, rose, and led the way.
-Advanced upon the field there stood a mound
-Of earth congested, wall’d, and trench’d around;
-In elder times to guard Alcides made,
-(The work of Trojans, with Minerva’s aid,)
-What time a vengeful monster of the main
-Swept the wide shore, and drove him to the plain.
-
-Here Neptune and the gods of Greece repair,
-With clouds encompass’d, and a veil of air:
-The adverse powers, around Apollo laid,
-Crown the fair hills that silver Simois shade.
-In circle close each heavenly party sat,
-Intent to form the future scheme of fate;
-But mix not yet in fight, though Jove on high
-Gives the loud signal, and the heavens reply.
-
-Meanwhile the rushing armies hide the ground;
-The trampled centre yields a hollow sound:
-Steeds cased in mail, and chiefs in armour bright,
-The gleaming champaign glows with brazen light.
-Amid both hosts (a dreadful space) appear,
-There great Achilles; bold Æneas, here.
-With towering strides Æneas first advanced;
-The nodding plumage on his helmet danced:
-Spread o’er his breast the fencing shield he bore,
-And, so he moved, his javelin flamed before.
-Not so Pelides; furious to engage,
-He rush’d impetuous. Such the lion’s rage,
-Who viewing first his foes with scornful eyes,
-Though all in arms the peopled city rise,
-Stalks careless on, with unregarding pride;
-Till at the length, by some brave youth defied,
-To his bold spear the savage turns alone,
-He murmurs fury with a hollow groan;
-He grins, he foams, he rolls his eyes around,
-Lash’d by his tail his heaving sides resound;
-He calls up all his rage; he grinds his teeth,
-Resolved on vengeance, or resolved on death.
-So fierce Achilles on Æneas flies;
-So stands Æneas, and his force defies.
-Ere yet the stern encounter join’d, begun
-The seed of Thetis thus to Venus’ son:
-
-“Why comes Æneas through the ranks so far?
-Seeks he to meet Achilles’ arm in war,
-In hope the realms of Priam to enjoy,
-And prove his merits to the throne of Troy?
-Grant that beneath thy lance Achilles dies,
-The partial monarch may refuse the prize;
-Sons he has many; those thy pride may quell:
-And ’tis his fault to love those sons too well,
-Or, in reward of thy victorious hand,
-Has Troy proposed some spacious tract of land,
-An ample forest, or a fair domain,
-Of hills for vines, and arable for grain?
-Even this, perhaps, will hardly prove thy lot.
-But can Achilles be so soon forgot?
-Once (as I think) you saw this brandish’d spear,
-And then the great Æneas seem’d to fear:
-With hearty haste from Ida’s mount he fled,
-Nor, till he reach’d Lyrnessus, turn’d his head.
-Her lofty walls not long our progress stay’d;
-Those, Pallas, Jove, and we, in ruins laid:
-In Grecian chains her captive race were cast;
-’Tis true, the great Æneas fled too fast.
-Defrauded of my conquest once before,
-What then I lost, the gods this day restore.
-Go; while thou may’st, avoid the threaten’d fate;
-Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late.”
-
-To this Anchises’ son: “Such words employ
-To one that fears thee, some unwarlike boy;
-Such we disdain; the best may be defied
-With mean reproaches, and unmanly pride;
-Unworthy the high race from which we came
-Proclaim’d so loudly by the voice of fame:
-Each from illustrious fathers draws his line;
-Each goddess-born; half human, half divine.
-Thetis’ this day, or Venus’ offspring dies,
-And tears shall trickle from celestial eyes:
-For when two heroes, thus derived, contend,
-’Tis not in words the glorious strife can end.
-If yet thou further seek to learn my birth
-(A tale resounded through the spacious earth)
-Hear how the glorious origin we prove
-From ancient Dardanus, the first from Jove:
-Dardania’s walls he raised; for Ilion, then,
-(The city since of many-languaged men,)
-Was not. The natives were content to till
-The shady foot of Ida’s fountful hill.[264]
-From Dardanus great Erichthonius springs,
-The richest, once, of Asia’s wealthy kings;
-Three thousand mares his spacious pastures bred,
-Three thousand foals beside their mothers fed.
-Boreas, enamour’d of the sprightly train,
-Conceal’d his godhead in a flowing mane,
-With voice dissembled to his loves he neigh’d,
-And coursed the dappled beauties o’er the mead:
-Hence sprung twelve others of unrivall’d kind,
-Swift as their mother mares, and father wind.
-These lightly skimming, when they swept the plain,
-Nor plied the grass, nor bent the tender grain;
-And when along the level seas they flew,[265]
-Scarce on the surface curl’d the briny dew.
-Such Erichthonius was: from him there came
-The sacred Tros, of whom the Trojan name.
-Three sons renown’d adorn’d his nuptial bed,
-Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymed:
-The matchless Ganymed, divinely fair,
-Whom heaven, enamour’d, snatch’d to upper air,
-To bear the cup of Jove (ethereal guest,
-The grace and glory of the ambrosial feast).
-The two remaining sons the line divide:
-First rose Laomedon from Ilus’ side;
-From him Tithonus, now in cares grown old,
-And Priam, bless’d with Hector, brave and bold;
-Clytius and Lampus, ever-honour’d pair;
-And Hicetaon, thunderbolt of war.
-From great Assaracus sprang Capys, he
-Begat Anchises, and Anchises me.
-Such is our race: ’tis fortune gives us birth,
-But Jove alone endues the soul with worth:
-He, source of power and might! with boundless sway,
-All human courage gives, or takes away.
-Long in the field of words we may contend,
-Reproach is infinite, and knows no end,
-Arm’d or with truth or falsehood, right or wrong;
-So voluble a weapon is the tongue;
-Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail,
-For every man has equal strength to rail:
-Women alone, when in the streets they jar,
-Perhaps excel us in this wordy war;
-Like us they stand, encompass’d with the crowd,
-And vent their anger impotent and loud.
-Cease then—Our business in the field of fight
-Is not to question, but to prove our might.
-To all those insults thou hast offer’d here,
-Receive this answer: ’tis my flying spear.”
-
-He spoke. With all his force the javelin flung,
-Fix’d deep, and loudly in the buckler rung.
-Far on his outstretch’d arm, Pelides held
-(To meet the thundering lance) his dreadful shield,
-That trembled as it stuck; nor void of fear
-Saw, ere it fell, the immeasurable spear.
-His fears were vain; impenetrable charms
-Secured the temper of the ethereal arms.
-Through two strong plates the point its passage held,
-But stopp’d, and rested, by the third repell’d.
-Five plates of various metal, various mould,
-Composed the shield; of brass each outward fold,
-Of tin each inward, and the middle gold:
-There stuck the lance. Then rising ere he threw,
-The forceful spear of great Achilles flew,
-And pierced the Dardan shield’s extremest bound,
-Where the shrill brass return’d a sharper sound:
-Through the thin verge the Pelean weapon glides,
-And the slight covering of expanded hides.
-Æneas his contracted body bends,
-And o’er him high the riven targe extends,
-Sees, through its parting plates, the upper air,
-And at his back perceives the quivering spear:
-A fate so near him, chills his soul with fright;
-And swims before his eyes the many-colour’d light.
-Achilles, rushing in with dreadful cries,
-Draws his broad blade, and at Æneas flies:
-Æneas rousing as the foe came on,
-With force collected, heaves a mighty stone:
-A mass enormous! which in modern days
-No two of earth’s degenerate sons could raise.
-But ocean’s god, whose earthquakes rock the ground
-Saw the distress, and moved the powers around:
-
-“Lo! on the brink of fate Æneas stands,
-An instant victim to Achilles’ hands;
-By Phœbus urged; but Phœbus has bestow’d
-His aid in vain: the man o’erpowers the god.
-And can ye see this righteous chief atone
-With guiltless blood for vices not his own?
-To all the gods his constant vows were paid;
-Sure, though he wars for Troy, he claims our aid.
-Fate wills not this; nor thus can Jove resign
-The future father of the Dardan line:[266]
-The first great ancestor obtain’d his grace,
-And still his love descends on all the race:
-For Priam now, and Priam’s faithless kind,
-At length are odious to the all-seeing mind;
-On great Æneas shall devolve the reign,
-And sons succeeding sons the lasting line sustain.”
-
-The great earth-shaker thus: to whom replies
-The imperial goddess with the radiant eyes:
-“Good as he is, to immolate or spare
-The Dardan prince, O Neptune! be thy care;
-Pallas and I, by all that gods can bind,
-Have sworn destruction to the Trojan kind;
-Not even an instant to protract their fate,
-Or save one member of the sinking state;
-Till her last flame be quench’d with her last gore,
-And even her crumbling ruins are no more.”
-
-The king of ocean to the fight descends,
-Through all the whistling darts his course he bends,
-Swift interposed between the warrior flies,
-And casts thick darkness o’er Achilles’ eyes.[267]
-From great Æneas’ shield the spear he drew,
-And at his master’s feet the weapon threw.
-That done, with force divine he snatch’d on high
-The Dardan prince, and bore him through the sky,
-Smooth-gliding without step, above the heads
-Of warring heroes, and of bounding steeds:
-Till at the battle’s utmost verge they light,
-Where the slow Caucans close the rear of fight.
-The godhead there (his heavenly form confess’d)
-With words like these the panting chief address’d:
-
-“What power, O prince! with force inferior far,
-Urged thee to meet Achilles’ arm in war?
-Henceforth beware, nor antedate thy doom,
-Defrauding fate of all thy fame to come.
-But when the day decreed (for come it must)
-Shall lay this dreadful hero in the dust,
-Let then the furies of that arm be known,
-Secure no Grecian force transcends thy own.”
-
-With that, he left him wondering as he lay,
-Then from Achilles chased the mist away:
-Sudden, returning with a stream of light,
-The scene of war came rushing on his sight.
-Then thus, amazed; “What wonders strike my mind!
-My spear, that parted on the wings of wind,
-Laid here before me! and the Dardan lord,
-That fell this instant, vanish’d from my sword!
-I thought alone with mortals to contend,
-But powers celestial sure this foe defend.
-Great as he is, our arms he scarce will try,
-Content for once, with all his gods, to fly.
-Now then let others bleed.” This said, aloud
-He vents his fury and inflames the crowd:
-“O Greeks! (he cries, and every rank alarms)
-Join battle, man to man, and arms to arms!
-’Tis not in me, though favour’d by the sky,
-To mow whole troops, and make whole armies fly:
-No god can singly such a host engage,
-Not Mars himself, nor great Minerva’s rage.
-But whatsoe’er Achilles can inspire,
-Whate’er of active force, or acting fire;
-Whate’er this heart can prompt, or hand obey;
-All, all Achilles, Greeks! is yours to-day.
-Through yon wide host this arm shall scatter fear,
-And thin the squadrons with my single spear.”
-
-He said: nor less elate with martial joy,
-The godlike Hector warm’d the troops of Troy:
-“Trojans, to war! Think, Hector leads you on;
-Nor dread the vaunts of Peleus’ haughty son.
-Deeds must decide our fate. E’en these with words
-Insult the brave, who tremble at their swords:
-The weakest atheist-wretch all heaven defies,
-But shrinks and shudders when the thunder flies.
-Nor from yon boaster shall your chief retire,
-Not though his heart were steel, his hands were fire;
-That fire, that steel, your Hector should withstand,
-And brave that vengeful heart, that dreadful hand.”
-
-Thus (breathing rage through all) the hero said;
-A wood of lances rises round his head,
-Clamours on clamours tempest all the air,
-They join, they throng, they thicken to the war.
-But Phœbus warns him from high heaven to shun
-The single fight with Thetis’ godlike son;
-More safe to combat in the mingled band,
-Nor tempt too near the terrors of his hand.
-He hears, obedient to the god of light,
-And, plunged within the ranks, awaits the fight.
-
-Then fierce Achilles, shouting to the skies,
-On Troy’s whole force with boundless fury flies.
-First falls Iphytion, at his army’s head;
-Brave was the chief, and brave the host he led;
-From great Otrynteus he derived his blood,
-His mother was a Nais, of the flood;
-Beneath the shades of Tmolus, crown’d with snow,
-From Hyde’s walls he ruled the lands below.
-Fierce as he springs, the sword his head divides:
-The parted visage falls on equal sides:
-With loud-resounding arms he strikes the plain;
-While thus Achilles glories o’er the slain:
-
-“Lie there, Otryntides! the Trojan earth
-Receives thee dead, though Gygae boast thy birth;
-Those beauteous fields where Hyllus’ waves are roll’d,
-And plenteous Hermus swells with tides of gold,
-Are thine no more.”—The insulting hero said,
-And left him sleeping in eternal shade.
-The rolling wheels of Greece the body tore,
-And dash’d their axles with no vulgar gore.
-
-Demoleon next, Antenor’s offspring, laid
-Breathless in dust, the price of rashness paid.
-The impatient steel with full-descending sway
-Forced through his brazen helm its furious way,
-Resistless drove the batter’d skull before,
-And dash’d and mingled all the brains with gore.
-This sees Hippodamas, and seized with fright,
-Deserts his chariot for a swifter flight:
-The lance arrests him: an ignoble wound
-The panting Trojan rivets to the ground.
-He groans away his soul: not louder roars,
-At Neptune’s shrine on Helicè’s high shores,
-The victim bull; the rocks re-bellow round,
-And ocean listens to the grateful sound.
-Then fell on Polydore his vengeful rage,[268]
-The youngest hope of Priam’s stooping age:
-(Whose feet for swiftness in the race surpass’d:)
-Of all his sons, the dearest, and the last.
-To the forbidden field he takes his flight,
-In the first folly of a youthful knight,
-To vaunt his swiftness wheels around the plain,
-But vaunts not long, with all his swiftness slain:
-Struck where the crossing belts unite behind,
-And golden rings the double back-plate join’d
-Forth through the navel burst the thrilling steel;
-And on his knees with piercing shrieks he fell;
-The rushing entrails pour’d upon the ground
-His hands collect; and darkness wraps him round.
-When Hector view’d, all ghastly in his gore,
-Thus sadly slain the unhappy Polydore,
-A cloud of sorrow overcast his sight,
-His soul no longer brook’d the distant fight:
-Full in Achilles’ dreadful front he came,
-And shook his javelin like a waving flame.
-The son of Peleus sees, with joy possess’d,
-His heart high-bounding in his rising breast.
-“And, lo! the man on whom black fates attend;
-The man, that slew Achilles, is his friend!
-No more shall Hector’s and Pelides’ spear
-Turn from each other in the walks of war.”—
-Then with revengeful eyes he scann’d him o’er:
-“Come, and receive thy fate!” He spake no more.
-
-Hector, undaunted, thus: “Such words employ
-To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike boy:
-Such we could give, defying and defied,
-Mean intercourse of obloquy and pride!
-I know thy force to mine superior far;
-But heaven alone confers success in war:
-Mean as I am, the gods may guide my dart,
-And give it entrance in a braver heart.”
-
-Then parts the lance: but Pallas’ heavenly breath
-Far from Achilles wafts the winged death:
-The bidden dart again to Hector flies,
-And at the feet of its great master lies.
-Achilles closes with his hated foe,
-His heart and eyes with flaming fury glow:
-But present to his aid, Apollo shrouds
-The favour’d hero in a veil of clouds.
-Thrice struck Pelides with indignant heart,
-Thrice in impassive air he plunged the dart;
-The spear a fourth time buried in the cloud.
-He foams with fury, and exclaims aloud:
-
-“Wretch! thou hast ’scaped again; once more thy flight
-Has saved thee, and the partial god of light.
-But long thou shalt not thy just fate withstand,
-If any power assist Achilles’ hand.
-Fly then inglorious! but thy flight this day
-Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay.”
-
-With that, he gluts his rage on numbers slain:
-Then Dryops tumbled to the ensanguined plain,
-Pierced through the neck: he left him panting there,
-And stopp’d Demuchus, great Philetor’s heir.
-Gigantic chief! deep gash’d the enormous blade,
-And for the soul an ample passage made.
-Laoganus and Dardanus expire,
-The valiant sons of an unhappy sire;
-Both in one instant from the chariot hurl’d,
-Sunk in one instant to the nether world:
-This difference only their sad fates afford
-That one the spear destroy’d, and one the sword.
-
-Nor less unpitied, young Alastor bleeds;
-In vain his youth, in vain his beauty pleads;
-In vain he begs thee, with a suppliant’s moan,
-To spare a form, an age so like thy own!
-Unhappy boy! no prayer, no moving art,
-E’er bent that fierce, inexorable heart!
-While yet he trembled at his knees, and cried,
-The ruthless falchion oped his tender side;
-The panting liver pours a flood of gore
-That drowns his bosom till he pants no more.
-
-Through Mulius’ head then drove the impetuous spear:
-The warrior falls, transfix’d from ear to ear.
-Thy life, Echeclus! next the sword bereaves,
-Deep though the front the ponderous falchion cleaves;
-Warm’d in the brain the smoking weapon lies,
-The purple death comes floating o’er his eyes.
-Then brave Deucalion died: the dart was flung
-Where the knit nerves the pliant elbow strung;
-He dropp’d his arm, an unassisting weight,
-And stood all impotent, expecting fate:
-Full on his neck the falling falchion sped,
-From his broad shoulders hew’d his crested head:
-Forth from the bone the spinal marrow flies,
-And, sunk in dust, the corpse extended lies.
-Rhigmas, whose race from fruitful Thracia came,
-(The son of Pierus, an illustrious name,)
-Succeeds to fate: the spear his belly rends;
-Prone from his car the thundering chief descends.
-The squire, who saw expiring on the ground
-His prostrate master, rein’d the steeds around;
-His back, scarce turn’d, the Pelian javelin gored,
-And stretch’d the servant o’er his dying lord.
-As when a flame the winding valley fills,
-And runs on crackling shrubs between the hills;
-Then o’er the stubble up the mountain flies,
-Fires the high woods, and blazes to the skies,
-This way and that, the spreading torrent roars:
-So sweeps the hero through the wasted shores;
-Around him wide, immense destruction pours
-And earth is deluged with the sanguine showers,
-As with autumnal harvests cover’d o’er,
-And thick bestrewn, lies Ceres’ sacred floor;
-When round and round, with never-wearied pain,
-The trampling steers beat out the unnumber’d grain:
-So the fierce coursers, as the chariot rolls,
-Tread down whole ranks, and crush out heroes’ souls,
-Dash’d from their hoofs while o’er the dead they fly,
-Black, bloody drops the smoking chariot dye:
-The spiky wheels through heaps of carnage tore;
-And thick the groaning axles dropp’d with gore.
-High o’er the scene of death Achilles stood,
-All grim with dust, all horrible in blood:
-Yet still insatiate, still with rage on flame;
-Such is the lust of never-dying fame!
-
-
-[Illustration: ] CENTAUR
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XXI.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE BATTLE IN THE RIVER SCAMANDER.[269]
-
-
-The Trojans fly before Achilles, some towards the town, others to the
-river Scamander: he falls upon the latter with great slaughter: takes
-twelve captives alive, to sacrifice to the shade of Patroclus; and
-kills Lycaon and Asteropeus. Scamander attacks him with all his waves:
-Neptune and Pallas assist the hero: Simois joins Scamander: at length
-Vulcan, by the instigation of Juno, almost dries up the river. This
-combat ended, the other gods engage each other. Meanwhile Achilles
-continues the slaughter, drives the rest into Troy: Agenor only makes a
-stand, and is conveyed away in a cloud by Apollo; who (to delude
-Achilles) takes upon him Agenor’s shape, and while he pursues him in
-that disguise, gives the Trojans an opportunity of retiring into their
-city.
-    The same day continues. The scene is on the banks and in the stream
-    of Scamander.
-
-
-And now to Xanthus’ gliding stream they drove,
-Xanthus, immortal progeny of Jove.
-The river here divides the flying train,
-Part to the town fly diverse o’er the plain,
-Where late their troops triumphant bore the fight,
-Now chased, and trembling in ignoble flight:
-(These with a gathered mist Saturnia shrouds,
-And rolls behind the rout a heap of clouds:)
-Part plunge into the stream: old Xanthus roars,
-The flashing billows beat the whiten’d shores:
-With cries promiscuous all the banks resound,
-And here, and there, in eddies whirling round,
-The flouncing steeds and shrieking warriors drown’d.
-As the scorch’d locusts from their fields retire,
-While fast behind them runs the blaze of fire;
-Driven from the land before the smoky cloud,
-The clustering legions rush into the flood:
-So, plunged in Xanthus by Achilles’ force,
-Roars the resounding surge with men and horse.
-His bloody lance the hero casts aside,
-(Which spreading tamarisks on the margin hide,)
-Then, like a god, the rapid billows braves,
-Arm’d with his sword, high brandish’d o’er the waves:
-Now down he plunges, now he whirls it round,
-Deep groan’d the waters with the dying sound;
-Repeated wounds the reddening river dyed,
-And the warm purple circled on the tide.
-Swift through the foamy flood the Trojans fly,
-And close in rocks or winding caverns lie:
-So the huge dolphin tempesting the main,
-In shoals before him fly the scaly train,
-Confusedly heap’d they seek their inmost caves,
-Or pant and heave beneath the floating waves.
-Now, tired with slaughter, from the Trojan band
-Twelve chosen youths he drags alive to land;
-With their rich belts their captive arms restrains
-(Late their proud ornaments, but now their chains).
-These his attendants to the ships convey’d,
-Sad victims destined to Patroclus’ shade;
-
-Then, as once more he plunged amid the flood,
-The young Lycaon in his passage stood;
-The son of Priam; whom the hero’s hand
-But late made captive in his father’s land
-(As from a sycamore, his sounding steel
-Lopp’d the green arms to spoke a chariot wheel)
-To Lemnos’ isle he sold the royal slave,
-Where Jason’s son the price demanded gave;
-But kind Eetion, touching on the shore,
-The ransom’d prince to fair Arisbe bore.
-Ten days were past, since in his father’s reign
-He felt the sweets of liberty again;
-The next, that god whom men in vain withstand
-Gives the same youth to the same conquering hand
-Now never to return! and doom’d to go
-A sadder journey to the shades below.
-His well-known face when great Achilles eyed,
-(The helm and visor he had cast aside
-With wild affright, and dropp’d upon the field
-His useless lance and unavailing shield,)
-As trembling, panting, from the stream he fled,
-And knock’d his faltering knees, the hero said:
-“Ye mighty gods! what wonders strike my view!
-Is it in vain our conquering arms subdue?
-Sure I shall see yon heaps of Trojans kill’d
-Rise from the shades, and brave me on the field;
-As now the captive, whom so late I bound
-And sold to Lemnos, stalks on Trojan ground!
-Not him the sea’s unmeasured deeps detain,
-That bar such numbers from their native plain;
-Lo! he returns. Try, then, my flying spear!
-Try, if the grave can hold the wanderer;
-If earth, at length this active prince can seize,
-Earth, whose strong grasp has held down Hercules.”
-
-Thus while he spoke, the Trojan pale with fears
-Approach’d, and sought his knees with suppliant tears
-Loth as he was to yield his youthful breath,
-And his soul shivering at the approach of death.
-Achilles raised the spear, prepared to wound;
-He kiss’d his feet, extended on the ground:
-And while, above, the spear suspended stood,
-Longing to dip its thirsty point in blood,
-One hand embraced them close, one stopp’d the dart,
-While thus these melting words attempt his heart:
-
-“Thy well-known captive, great Achilles! see,
-Once more Lycaon trembles at thy knee.
-Some pity to a suppliant’s name afford,
-Who shared the gifts of Ceres at thy board;
-Whom late thy conquering arm to Lemnos bore,
-Far from his father, friends, and native shore;
-A hundred oxen were his price that day,
-Now sums immense thy mercy shall repay.
-Scarce respited from woes I yet appear,
-And scarce twelve morning suns have seen me here;
-Lo! Jove again submits me to thy hands,
-Again, her victim cruel Fate demands!
-I sprang from Priam, and Laothoe fair,
-(Old Altes’ daughter, and Lelegia’s heir;
-Who held in Pedasus his famed abode,
-And ruled the fields where silver Satnio flow’d,)
-Two sons (alas! unhappy sons) she bore;
-For ah! one spear shall drink each brother’s gore,
-And I succeed to slaughter’d Polydore.
-How from that arm of terror shall I fly?
-Some demon urges! ’tis my doom to die!
-If ever yet soft pity touch’d thy mind,
-Ah! think not me too much of Hector’s kind!
-Not the same mother gave thy suppliant breath,
-With his, who wrought thy loved Patroclus’ death.”
-
-These words, attended with a shower of tears,
-The youth address’d to unrelenting ears:
-“Talk not of life, or ransom (he replies):
-Patroclus dead, whoever meets me, dies:
-In vain a single Trojan sues for grace;
-But least, the sons of Priam’s hateful race.
-Die then, my friend! what boots it to deplore?
-The great, the good Patroclus is no more!
-He, far thy better, was foredoom’d to die,
-And thou, dost thou bewail mortality?
-Seest thou not me, whom nature’s gifts adorn,
-Sprung from a hero, from a goddess born?
-The day shall come (which nothing can avert)
-When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart,
-By night, or day, by force, or by design,
-Impending death and certain fate are mine!
-Die then,”—He said; and as the word he spoke,
-The fainting stripling sank before the stroke:
-His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear,
-While all his trembling frame confess’d his fear:
-Sudden, Achilles his broad sword display’d,
-And buried in his neck the reeking blade.
-Prone fell the youth; and panting on the land,
-The gushing purple dyed the thirsty sand.
-The victor to the stream the carcase gave,
-And thus insults him, floating on the wave:
-
-“Lie there, Lycaon! let the fish surround
-Thy bloated corpse, and suck thy gory wound:
-There no sad mother shall thy funerals weep,
-But swift Scamander roll thee to the deep,
-Whose every wave some watery monster brings,
-To feast unpunish’d on the fat of kings.
-So perish Troy, and all the Trojan line!
-Such ruin theirs, and such compassion mine.
-What boots ye now Scamander’s worshipp’d stream,
-His earthly honours, and immortal name?
-In vain your immolated bulls are slain,
-Your living coursers glut his gulfs in vain!
-Thus he rewards you, with this bitter fate;
-Thus, till the Grecian vengeance is complete:
-Thus is atoned Patroclus’ honour’d shade,
-And the short absence of Achilles paid.”
-
-These boastful words provoked the raging god;
-With fury swells the violated flood.
-What means divine may yet the power employ
-To check Achilles, and to rescue Troy?
-Meanwhile the hero springs in arms, to dare
-The great Asteropeus to mortal war;
-The son of Pelagon, whose lofty line
-Flows from the source of Axius, stream divine!
-(Fair Peribaea’s love the god had crown’d,
-With all his refluent waters circled round:)
-On him Achilles rush’d; he fearless stood,
-And shook two spears, advancing from the flood;
-The flood impell’d him, on Pelides’ head
-To avenge his waters choked with heaps of dead.
-Near as they drew, Achilles thus began:
-
-“What art thou, boldest of the race of man?
-Who, or from whence? Unhappy is the sire
-Whose son encounters our resistless ire.”
-
-“O son of Peleus! what avails to trace
-(Replied the warrior) our illustrious race?
-From rich Paeonia’s valleys I command,
-Arm’d with protended spears, my native band;
-Now shines the tenth bright morning since I came
-In aid of Ilion to the fields of fame:
-Axius, who swells with all the neighbouring rills,
-And wide around the floated region fills,
-Begot my sire, whose spear much glory won:
-Now lift thy arm, and try that hero’s son!”
-
-Threatening he said: the hostile chiefs advance;
-At once Asteropeus discharged each lance,
-(For both his dexterous hands the lance could wield,)
-One struck, but pierced not, the Vulcanian shield;
-One razed Achilles’ hand; the spouting blood
-Spun forth; in earth the fasten’d weapon stood.
-Like lightning next the Pelean javelin flies:
-Its erring fury hiss’d along the skies;
-Deep in the swelling bank was driven the spear,
-Even to the middle earth; and quiver’d there.
-Then from his side the sword Pelides drew,
-And on his foe with double fury flew.
-The foe thrice tugg’d, and shook the rooted wood;
-Repulsive of his might the weapon stood:
-The fourth, he tries to break the spear in vain;
-Bent as he stands, he tumbles to the plain;
-His belly open’d with a ghastly wound,
-The reeking entrails pour upon the ground.
-Beneath the hero’s feet he panting lies,
-And his eye darkens, and his spirit flies;
-While the proud victor thus triumphing said,
-His radiant armour tearing from the dead:
-
-“So ends thy glory! Such the fate they prove,
-Who strive presumptuous with the sons of Jove!
-Sprung from a river, didst thou boast thy line?
-But great Saturnius is the source of mine.
-How durst thou vaunt thy watery progeny?
-Of Peleus, Æacus, and Jove, am I.
-The race of these superior far to those,
-As he that thunders to the stream that flows.
-What rivers can, Scamander might have shown;
-But Jove he dreads, nor wars against his son.
-Even Achelous might contend in vain,
-And all the roaring billows of the main.
-The eternal ocean, from whose fountains flow
-The seas, the rivers, and the springs below,
-The thundering voice of Jove abhors to hear,
-And in his deep abysses shakes with fear.”
-
-He said: then from the bank his javelin tore,
-And left the breathless warrior in his gore.
-The floating tides the bloody carcase lave,
-And beat against it, wave succeeding wave;
-Till, roll’d between the banks, it lies the food
-Of curling eels, and fishes of the flood.
-All scatter’d round the stream (their mightiest slain)
-The amazed Pæonians scour along the plain;
-He vents his fury on the flying crew,
-Thrasius, Astyplus, and Mnesus slew;
-Mydon, Thersilochus, with Ænius, fell;
-And numbers more his lance had plunged to hell,
-But from the bottom of his gulfs profound
-Scamander spoke; the shores return’d the sound.
-
-“O first of mortals! (for the gods are thine)
-In valour matchless, and in force divine!
-If Jove have given thee every Trojan head,
-’Tis not on me thy rage should heap the dead.
-See! my choked streams no more their course can keep,
-Nor roll their wonted tribute to the deep.
-Turn then, impetuous! from our injured flood;
-Content, thy slaughters could amaze a god.”
-
-In human form, confess’d before his eyes,
-The river thus; and thus the chief replies:
-“O sacred stream! thy word we shall obey;
-But not till Troy the destined vengeance pay,
-Not till within her towers the perjured train
-Shall pant, and tremble at our arms again;
-Not till proud Hector, guardian of her wall,
-Or stain this lance, or see Achilles fall.”
-
-He said; and drove with fury on the foe.
-Then to the godhead of the silver bow
-The yellow flood began: “O son of Jove!
-Was not the mandate of the sire above
-Full and express, that Phœbus should employ
-His sacred arrows in defence of Troy,
-And make her conquer, till Hyperion’s fall
-In awful darkness hide the face of all?”
-
-He spoke in vain—The chief without dismay
-Ploughs through the boiling surge his desperate way.
-Then rising in his rage above the shores,
-From all his deep the bellowing river roars,
-Huge heaps of slain disgorges on the coast,
-And round the banks the ghastly dead are toss’d.
-While all before, the billows ranged on high,
-(A watery bulwark,) screen the bands who fly.
-Now bursting on his head with thundering sound,
-The falling deluge whelms the hero round:
-His loaded shield bends to the rushing tide;
-His feet, upborne, scarce the strong flood divide,
-Sliddering, and staggering. On the border stood
-A spreading elm, that overhung the flood;
-He seized a bending bough, his steps to stay;
-The plant uprooted to his weight gave way.[270]
-Heaving the bank, and undermining all;
-Loud flash the waters to the rushing fall
-Of the thick foliage. The large trunk display’d
-Bridged the rough flood across: the hero stay’d
-On this his weight, and raised upon his hand,
-Leap’d from the channel, and regain’d the land.
-Then blacken’d the wild waves: the murmur rose:
-The god pursues, a huger billow throws,
-And bursts the bank, ambitious to destroy
-The man whose fury is the fate of Troy.
-He like the warlike eagle speeds his pace
-(Swiftest and strongest of the aerial race);
-Far as a spear can fly, Achilles springs;
-At every bound his clanging armour rings:
-Now here, now there, he turns on every side,
-And winds his course before the following tide;
-The waves flow after, wheresoe’er he wheels,
-And gather fast, and murmur at his heels.
-So when a peasant to his garden brings
-Soft rills of water from the bubbling springs,
-And calls the floods from high, to bless his bowers,
-And feed with pregnant streams the plants and flowers:
-Soon as he clears whate’er their passage stay’d,
-And marks the future current with his spade,
-Swift o’er the rolling pebbles, down the hills,
-Louder and louder purl the falling rills;
-Before him scattering, they prevent his pains,
-And shine in mazy wanderings o’er the plains.
-
-Still flies Achilles, but before his eyes
-Still swift Scamander rolls where’er he flies:
-Not all his speed escapes the rapid floods;
-The first of men, but not a match for gods.
-Oft as he turn’d the torrent to oppose,
-And bravely try if all the powers were foes;
-So oft the surge, in watery mountains spread,
-Beats on his back, or bursts upon his head.
-Yet dauntless still the adverse flood he braves,
-And still indignant bounds above the waves.
-Tired by the tides, his knees relax with toil;
-Wash’d from beneath him slides the slimy soil;
-When thus (his eyes on heaven’s expansion thrown)
-Forth bursts the hero with an angry groan:
-
-“Is there no god Achilles to befriend,
-No power to avert his miserable end?
-Prevent, O Jove! this ignominious date,[271]
-And make my future life the sport of fate.
-Of all heaven’s oracles believed in vain,
-But most of Thetis must her son complain;
-By Phœbus’ darts she prophesied my fall,
-In glorious arms before the Trojan wall.
-Oh! had I died in fields of battle warm,
-Stretch’d like a hero, by a hero’s arm!
-Might Hector’s spear this dauntless bosom rend,
-And my swift soul o’ertake my slaughter’d friend.
-Ah no! Achilles meets a shameful fate,
-Oh how unworthy of the brave and great!
-Like some vile swain, whom on a rainy day,
-Crossing a ford, the torrent sweeps away,
-An unregarded carcase to the sea.”
-
-Neptune and Pallas haste to his relief,
-And thus in human form address’d the chief:
-The power of ocean first: “Forbear thy fear,
-O son of Peleus! Lo, thy gods appear!
-Behold! from Jove descending to thy aid,
-Propitious Neptune, and the blue-eyed maid.
-Stay, and the furious flood shall cease to rave
-’Tis not thy fate to glut his angry wave.
-But thou, the counsel heaven suggests, attend!
-Nor breathe from combat, nor thy sword suspend,
-Till Troy receive her flying sons, till all
-Her routed squadrons pant behind their wall:
-Hector alone shall stand his fatal chance,
-And Hector’s blood shall smoke upon thy lance.
-Thine is the glory doom’d.” Thus spake the gods:
-Then swift ascended to the bright abodes.
-
-Stung with new ardour, thus by heaven impell’d,
-He springs impetuous, and invades the field:
-O’er all the expanded plain the waters spread;
-Heaved on the bounding billows danced the dead,
-Floating ’midst scatter’d arms; while casques of gold
-And turn’d-up bucklers glitter’d as they roll’d.
-High o’er the surging tide, by leaps and bounds,
-He wades, and mounts; the parted wave resounds.
-Not a whole river stops the hero’s course,
-While Pallas fills him with immortal force.
-With equal rage, indignant Xanthus roars,
-And lifts his billows, and o’erwhelms his shores.
-
-Then thus to Simois! “Haste, my brother flood;
-And check this mortal that controls a god;
-Our bravest heroes else shall quit the fight,
-And Ilion tumble from her towery height.
-Call then thy subject streams, and bid them roar,
-From all thy fountains swell thy watery store,
-With broken rocks, and with a load of dead,
-Charge the black surge, and pour it on his head.
-Mark how resistless through the floods he goes,
-And boldly bids the warring gods be foes!
-But nor that force, nor form divine to sight,
-Shall aught avail him, if our rage unite:
-Whelm’d under our dark gulfs those arms shall lie,
-That blaze so dreadful in each Trojan eye;
-And deep beneath a sandy mountain hurl’d,
-Immersed remain this terror of the world.
-Such ponderous ruin shall confound the place,
-No Greeks shall e’er his perish’d relics grace,
-No hand his bones shall gather, or inhume;
-These his cold rites, and this his watery tomb.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] ACHILLES CONTENDING WITH THE RIVERS
-
-
-He said; and on the chief descends amain,
-Increased with gore, and swelling with the slain.
-Then, murmuring from his beds, he boils, he raves,
-And a foam whitens on the purple waves:
-At every step, before Achilles stood
-The crimson surge, and deluged him with blood.
-Fear touch’d the queen of heaven: she saw dismay’d,
-She call’d aloud, and summon’d Vulcan’s aid.
-
-“Rise to the war! the insulting flood requires
-Thy wasteful arm! assemble all thy fires!
-While to their aid, by our command enjoin’d,
-Rush the swift eastern and the western wind:
-These from old ocean at my word shall blow,
-Pour the red torrent on the watery foe,
-Corses and arms to one bright ruin turn,
-And hissing rivers to their bottoms burn.
-Go, mighty in thy rage! display thy power,
-Drink the whole flood, the crackling trees devour.
-Scorch all the banks! and (till our voice reclaim)
-Exert the unwearied furies of the flame!”
-
-The power ignipotent her word obeys:
-Wide o’er the plain he pours the boundless blaze;
-At once consumes the dead, and dries the soil
-And the shrunk waters in their channel boil.
-As when autumnal Boreas sweeps the sky,
-And instant blows the water’d gardens dry:
-So look’d the field, so whiten’d was the ground,
-While Vulcan breathed the fiery blast around.
-Swift on the sedgy reeds the ruin preys;
-Along the margin winds the running blaze:
-The trees in flaming rows to ashes turn,
-The flowering lotos and the tamarisk burn,
-Broad elm, and cypress rising in a spire;
-The watery willows hiss before the fire.
-Now glow the waves, the fishes pant for breath,
-The eels lie twisting in the pangs of death:
-Now flounce aloft, now dive the scaly fry,
-Or, gasping, turn their bellies to the sky.
-At length the river rear’d his languid head,
-And thus, short-panting, to the god he said:
-
-“Oh Vulcan! oh! what power resists thy might?
-I faint, I sink, unequal to the fight—
-I yield—Let Ilion fall; if fate decree—
-Ah—bend no more thy fiery arms on me!”
-
-He ceased; wide conflagration blazing round;
-The bubbling waters yield a hissing sound.
-As when the flames beneath a cauldron rise,[272]
-To melt the fat of some rich sacrifice,
-Amid the fierce embrace of circling fires
-The waters foam, the heavy smoke aspires:
-So boils the imprison’d flood, forbid to flow,
-And choked with vapours feels his bottom glow.
-To Juno then, imperial queen of air,
-The burning river sends his earnest prayer:
-
-“Ah why, Saturnia; must thy son engage
-Me, only me, with all his wasteful rage?
-On other gods his dreadful arm employ,
-For mightier gods assert the cause of Troy.
-Submissive I desist, if thou command;
-But ah! withdraw this all-destroying hand.
-Hear then my solemn oath, to yield to fate
-Unaided Ilion, and her destined state,
-Till Greece shall gird her with destructive flame,
-And in one ruin sink the Trojan name.”
-
-His warm entreaty touch’d Saturnia’s ear:
-She bade the ignipotent his rage forbear,
-Recall the flame, nor in a mortal cause
-Infest a god: the obedient flame withdraws:
-Again the branching streams begin to spread,
-And soft remurmur in their wonted bed.
-
-While these by Juno’s will the strife resign,
-The warring gods in fierce contention join:
-Rekindling rage each heavenly breast alarms:
-With horrid clangour shock the ethereal arms:
-Heaven in loud thunder bids the trumpet sound;
-And wide beneath them groans the rending ground.
-Jove, as his sport, the dreadful scene descries,
-And views contending gods with careless eyes.
-The power of battles lifts his brazen spear,
-And first assaults the radiant queen of war:
-
-“What moved thy madness, thus to disunite
-Ethereal minds, and mix all heaven in fight?
-What wonder this, when in thy frantic mood
-Thou drovest a mortal to insult a god?
-Thy impious hand Tydides’ javelin bore,
-And madly bathed it in celestial gore.”
-
-He spoke, and smote the long-resounding shield,
-Which bears Jove’s thunder on its dreadful field:
-The adamantine ægis of her sire,
-That turns the glancing bolt and forked fire.
-
-Then heaved the goddess in her mighty hand
-A stone, the limit of the neighbouring land,
-There fix’d from eldest times; black, craggy, vast;
-This at the heavenly homicide she cast.
-Thundering he falls, a mass of monstrous size:
-And seven broad acres covers as he lies.
-The stunning stroke his stubborn nerves unbound:
-Loud o’er the fields his ringing arms resound:
-The scornful dame her conquest views with smiles,
-And, glorying, thus the prostrate god reviles:
-
-“Hast thou not yet, insatiate fury! known
-How far Minerva’s force transcends thy own?
-Juno, whom thou rebellious darest withstand,
-Corrects thy folly thus by Pallas’ hand;
-Thus meets thy broken faith with just disgrace,
-And partial aid to Troy’s perfidious race.”
-
-The goddess spoke, and turn’d her eyes away,
-That, beaming round, diffused celestial day.
-Jove’s Cyprian daughter, stooping on the land,
-Lent to the wounded god her tender hand:
-Slowly he rises, scarcely breathes with pain,
-And, propp’d on her fair arm, forsakes the plain.
-This the bright empress of the heavens survey’d,
-And, scoffing, thus to war’s victorious maid:
-
-“Lo! what an aid on Mars’s side is seen!
-The smiles’ and loves’ unconquerable queen!
-Mark with what insolence, in open view,
-She moves: let Pallas, if she dares, pursue.”
-
-Minerva smiling heard, the pair o’ertook,
-And slightly on her breast the wanton strook:
-She, unresisting, fell (her spirits fled);
-On earth together lay the lovers spread.
-“And like these heroes be the fate of all
-(Minerva cries) who guard the Trojan wall!
-To Grecian gods such let the Phrygian be,
-So dread, so fierce, as Venus is to me;
-Then from the lowest stone shall Troy be moved.”
-Thus she, and Juno with a smile approved.
-
-Meantime, to mix in more than mortal fight,
-The god of ocean dares the god of light.
-“What sloth has seized us, when the fields around
-Ring with conflicting powers, and heaven returns the sound:
-Shall, ignominious, we with shame retire,
-No deed perform’d, to our Olympian sire?
-Come, prove thy arm! for first the war to wage,
-Suits not my greatness, or superior age:
-Rash as thou art to prop the Trojan throne,
-(Forgetful of my wrongs, and of thy own,)
-And guard the race of proud Laomedon!
-Hast thou forgot, how, at the monarch’s prayer,
-We shared the lengthen’d labours of a year?
-Troy walls I raised (for such were Jove’s commands),
-And yon proud bulwarks grew beneath my hands:
-Thy task it was to feed the bellowing droves
-Along fair Ida’s vales and pendant groves.
-But when the circling seasons in their train
-Brought back the grateful day that crown’d our pain,
-With menace stern the fraudful king defied
-Our latent godhead, and the prize denied:
-Mad as he was, he threaten’d servile bands,
-And doom’d us exiles far in barbarous lands.[273]
-Incensed, we heavenward fled with swiftest wing,
-And destined vengeance on the perjured king.
-Dost thou, for this, afford proud Ilion grace,
-And not, like us, infest the faithless race;
-Like us, their present, future sons destroy,
-And from its deep foundations heave their Troy?”
-
-Apollo thus: “To combat for mankind
-Ill suits the wisdom of celestial mind;
-For what is man? Calamitous by birth,
-They owe their life and nourishment to earth;
-Like yearly leaves, that now, with beauty crown’d,
-Smile on the sun; now, wither on the ground.
-To their own hands commit the frantic scene,
-Nor mix immortals in a cause so mean.”
-
-Then turns his face, far-beaming heavenly fires,
-And from the senior power submiss retires:
-Him thus retreating, Artemis upbraids,
-The quiver’d huntress of the sylvan shades:
-
-“And is it thus the youthful Phœbus flies,
-And yields to ocean’s hoary sire the prize?
-How vain that martial pomp, and dreadful show
-Of pointed arrows and the silver bow!
-Now boast no more in yon celestial bower,
-Thy force can match the great earth-shaking power.”
-
-Silent he heard the queen of woods upbraid:
-Not so Saturnia bore the vaunting maid:
-But furious thus: “What insolence has driven
-Thy pride to face the majesty of heaven?
-What though by Jove the female plague design’d,
-Fierce to the feeble race of womankind,
-The wretched matron feels thy piercing dart;
-Thy sex’s tyrant, with a tiger’s heart?
-What though tremendous in the woodland chase
-Thy certain arrows pierce the savage race?
-How dares thy rashness on the powers divine
-Employ those arms, or match thy force with mine?
-Learn hence, no more unequal war to wage—”
-She said, and seized her wrists with eager rage;
-These in her left hand lock’d, her right untied
-The bow, the quiver, and its plumy pride.
-About her temples flies the busy bow;
-Now here, now there, she winds her from the blow;
-The scattering arrows, rattling from the case,
-Drop round, and idly mark the dusty place.
-Swift from the field the baffled huntress flies,
-And scarce restrains the torrent in her eyes:
-So, when the falcon wings her way above,
-To the cleft cavern speeds the gentle dove;
-(Not fated yet to die;) there safe retreats,
-Yet still her heart against the marble beats.
-
-To her Latona hastes with tender care;
-Whom Hermes viewing, thus declines the war:
-“How shall I face the dame, who gives delight
-To him whose thunders blacken heaven with night?
-Go, matchless goddess! triumph in the skies,
-And boast my conquest, while I yield the prize.”
-
-He spoke; and pass’d: Latona, stooping low,
-Collects the scatter’d shafts and fallen bow,
-That, glittering on the dust, lay here and there
-Dishonour’d relics of Diana’s war:
-Then swift pursued her to her blest abode,
-Where, all confused, she sought the sovereign god;
-Weeping, she grasp’d his knees: the ambrosial vest
-Shook with her sighs, and panted on her breast.
-
-The sire superior smiled, and bade her show
-What heavenly hand had caused his daughter’s woe?
-Abash’d, she names his own imperial spouse;
-And the pale crescent fades upon her brows.
-
-Thus they above: while, swiftly gliding down,
-Apollo enters Ilion’s sacred town;
-The guardian-god now trembled for her wall,
-And fear’d the Greeks, though fate forbade her fall.
-Back to Olympus, from the war’s alarms,
-Return the shining bands of gods in arms;
-Some proud in triumph, some with rage on fire;
-And take their thrones around the ethereal sire.
-
-Through blood, through death, Achilles still proceeds,
-O’er slaughter’d heroes, and o’er rolling steeds.
-As when avenging flames with fury driven
-On guilty towns exert the wrath of heaven;
-The pale inhabitants, some fall, some fly;
-And the red vapours purple all the sky:
-So raged Achilles: death and dire dismay,
-And toils, and terrors, fill’d the dreadful day.
-
-High on a turret hoary Priam stands,
-And marks the waste of his destructive hands;
-Views, from his arm, the Trojans’ scatter’d flight,
-And the near hero rising on his sight!
-No stop, no check, no aid! With feeble pace,
-And settled sorrow on his aged face,
-Fast as he could, he sighing quits the walls;
-And thus descending, on the guards he calls:
-
-“You to whose care our city-gates belong,
-Set wide your portals to the flying throng:
-For lo! he comes, with unresisted sway;
-He comes, and desolation marks his way!
-But when within the walls our troops take breath,
-Lock fast the brazen bars, and shut out death.”
-Thus charged the reverend monarch: wide were flung
-The opening folds; the sounding hinges rung.
-Phœbus rush’d forth, the flying bands to meet;
-Struck slaughter back, and cover’d the retreat,
-On heaps the Trojans crowd to gain the gate,
-And gladsome see their last escape from fate.
-Thither, all parch’d with thirst, a heartless train,
-Hoary with dust, they beat the hollow plain:
-And gasping, panting, fainting, labour on
-With heavier strides, that lengthen toward the town.
-Enraged Achilles follows with his spear;
-Wild with revenge, insatiable of war.
-
-Then had the Greeks eternal praise acquired,
-And Troy inglorious to her walls retired;
-But he, the god who darts ethereal flame,
-Shot down to save her, and redeem her fame:
-To young Agenor force divine he gave;
-(Antenor’s offspring, haughty, bold, and brave;)
-In aid of him, beside the beech he sate,
-And wrapt in clouds, restrain’d the hand of fate.
-When now the generous youth Achilles spies,
-Thick beats his heart, the troubled motions rise.
-(So, ere a storm, the waters heave and roll.)
-He stops, and questions thus his mighty soul;
-
-“What, shall I fly this terror of the plain!
-Like others fly, and be like others slain?
-Vain hope! to shun him by the self-same road
-Yon line of slaughter’d Trojans lately trod.
-No: with the common heap I scorn to fall—
-What if they pass’d me to the Trojan wall,
-While I decline to yonder path, that leads
-To Ida’s forests and surrounding shades?
-So may I reach, conceal’d, the cooling flood,
-From my tired body wash the dirt and blood,
-As soon as night her dusky veil extends,
-Return in safety to my Trojan friends.
-What if?—But wherefore all this vain debate?
-Stand I to doubt, within the reach of fate?
-Even now perhaps, ere yet I turn the wall,
-The fierce Achilles sees me, and I fall:
-Such is his swiftness, ’tis in vain to fly,
-And such his valour, that who stands must die.
-Howe’er ’tis better, fighting for the state,
-Here, and in public view, to meet my fate.
-Yet sure he too is mortal; he may feel
-(Like all the sons of earth) the force of steel.
-One only soul informs that dreadful frame:
-And Jove’s sole favour gives him all his fame.”
-
-He said, and stood, collected, in his might;
-And all his beating bosom claim’d the fight.
-So from some deep-grown wood a panther starts,
-Roused from his thicket by a storm of darts:
-Untaught to fear or fly, he hears the sounds
-Of shouting hunters, and of clamorous hounds;
-Though struck, though wounded, scarce perceives the pain;
-And the barb’d javelin stings his breast in vain:
-On their whole war, untamed, the savage flies;
-And tears his hunter, or beneath him dies.
-Not less resolved, Antenor’s valiant heir
-Confronts Achilles, and awaits the war,
-Disdainful of retreat: high held before,
-His shield (a broad circumference) he bore;
-Then graceful as he stood, in act to throw
-The lifted javelin, thus bespoke the foe:
-
-“How proud Achilles glories in his fame!
-And hopes this day to sink the Trojan name
-Beneath her ruins! Know, that hope is vain;
-A thousand woes, a thousand toils remain.
-Parents and children our just arms employ,
-And strong and many are the sons of Troy.
-Great as thou art, even thou may’st stain with gore
-These Phrygian fields, and press a foreign shore.”
-
-He said: with matchless force the javelin flung
-Smote on his knee; the hollow cuishes rung
-Beneath the pointed steel; but safe from harms
-He stands impassive in the ethereal arms.
-Then fiercely rushing on the daring foe,
-His lifted arm prepares the fatal blow:
-But, jealous of his fame, Apollo shrouds
-The god-like Trojan in a veil of clouds.
-Safe from pursuit, and shut from mortal view,
-Dismiss’d with fame, the favoured youth withdrew.
-Meanwhile the god, to cover their escape,
-Assumes Agenor’s habit, voice and shape,
-Flies from the furious chief in this disguise;
-The furious chief still follows where he flies.
-Now o’er the fields they stretch with lengthen’d strides,
-Now urge the course where swift Scamander glides:
-The god, now distant scarce a stride before,
-Tempts his pursuit, and wheels about the shore;
-While all the flying troops their speed employ,
-And pour on heaps into the walls of Troy:
-No stop, no stay; no thought to ask, or tell,
-Who ’scaped by flight, or who by battle fell.
-’Twas tumult all, and violence of flight;
-And sudden joy confused, and mix’d affright.
-Pale Troy against Achilles shuts her gate:
-And nations breathe, deliver’d from their fate.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XXII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE DEATH OF HECTOR.
-
-
-The Trojans being safe within the walls, Hector only stays to oppose
-Achilles. Priam is struck at his approach, and tries to persuade his
-son to re-enter the town. Hecuba joins her entreaties, but in vain.
-Hector consults within himself what measures to take; but at the
-advance of Achilles, his resolution fails him, and he flies. Achilles
-pursues him thrice round the walls of Troy. The gods debate concerning
-the fate of Hector; at length Minerva descends to the aid of Achilles.
-She deludes Hector in the shape of Deiphobus; he stands the combat, and
-is slain. Achilles drags the dead body at his chariot in the sight of
-Priam and Hecuba. Their lamentations, tears, and despair. Their cries
-reach the ears of Andromache, who, ignorant of this, was retired into
-the inner part of the palace: she mounts up to the walls, and beholds
-her dead husband. She swoons at the spectacle. Her excess of grief and
-lamentation.
-    The thirtieth day still continues. The scene lies under the walls,
-    and on the battlements of Troy.
-
-
-Thus to their bulwarks, smit with panic fear,
-The herded Ilians rush like driven deer:
-There safe they wipe the briny drops away,
-And drown in bowls the labours of the day.
-Close to the walls, advancing o’er the fields
-Beneath one roof of well-compacted shields,
-March, bending on, the Greeks’ embodied powers,
-Far stretching in the shade of Trojan towers.
-Great Hector singly stay’d: chain’d down by fate
-There fix’d he stood before the Scæan gate;
-Still his bold arms determined to employ,
-The guardian still of long-defended Troy.
-
-Apollo now to tired Achilles turns:
-(The power confess’d in all his glory burns:)
-“And what (he cries) has Peleus’ son in view,
-With mortal speed a godhead to pursue?
-For not to thee to know the gods is given,
-Unskill’d to trace the latent marks of heaven.
-What boots thee now, that Troy forsook the plain?
-Vain thy past labour, and thy present vain:
-Safe in their walls are now her troops bestow’d,
-While here thy frantic rage attacks a god.”
-
-The chief incensed—“Too partial god of day!
-To check my conquests in the middle way:
-How few in Ilion else had refuge found!
-What gasping numbers now had bit the ground!
-Thou robb’st me of a glory justly mine,
-Powerful of godhead, and of fraud divine:
-Mean fame, alas! for one of heavenly strain,
-To cheat a mortal who repines in vain.”
-
-Then to the city, terrible and strong,
-With high and haughty steps he tower’d along,
-So the proud courser, victor of the prize,
-To the near goal with double ardour flies.
-Him, as he blazing shot across the field,
-The careful eyes of Priam first beheld.
-Not half so dreadful rises to the sight,[274]
-Through the thick gloom of some tempestuous night,
-Orion’s dog (the year when autumn weighs),
-And o’er the feebler stars exerts his rays;
-Terrific glory! for his burning breath
-Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death.
-So flamed his fiery mail. Then wept the sage:
-He strikes his reverend head, now white with age;
-He lifts his wither’d arms; obtests the skies;
-He calls his much-loved son with feeble cries:
-The son, resolved Achilles’ force to dare,
-Full at the Scæan gates expects the war;
-While the sad father on the rampart stands,
-And thus adjures him with extended hands:
-
-“Ah stay not, stay not! guardless and alone;
-Hector! my loved, my dearest, bravest son!
-Methinks already I behold thee slain,
-And stretch’d beneath that fury of the plain.
-Implacable Achilles! might’st thou be
-To all the gods no dearer than to me!
-Thee, vultures wild should scatter round the shore,
-And bloody dogs grow fiercer from thy gore.
-How many valiant sons I late enjoy’d,
-Valiant in vain! by thy cursed arm destroy’d:
-Or, worse than slaughtered, sold in distant isles
-To shameful bondage, and unworthy toils.
-Two, while I speak, my eyes in vain explore,
-Two from one mother sprung, my Polydore,
-And loved Lycaon; now perhaps no more!
-Oh! if in yonder hostile camp they live,
-What heaps of gold, what treasures would I give!
-(Their grandsire’s wealth, by right of birth their own,
-Consign’d his daughter with Lelegia’s throne:)
-But if (which Heaven forbid) already lost,
-All pale they wander on the Stygian coast;
-What sorrows then must their sad mother know,
-What anguish I? unutterable woe!
-Yet less that anguish, less to her, to me,
-Less to all Troy, if not deprived of thee.
-Yet shun Achilles! enter yet the wall;
-And spare thyself, thy father, spare us all!
-Save thy dear life; or, if a soul so brave
-Neglect that thought, thy dearer glory save.
-Pity, while yet I live, these silver hairs;
-While yet thy father feels the woes he bears,
-Yet cursed with sense! a wretch, whom in his rage
-(All trembling on the verge of helpless age)
-Great Jove has placed, sad spectacle of pain!
-The bitter dregs of fortune’s cup to drain:
-To fill with scenes of death his closing eyes,
-And number all his days by miseries!
-My heroes slain, my bridal bed o’erturn’d,
-My daughters ravish’d, and my city burn’d,
-My bleeding infants dash’d against the floor;
-These I have yet to see, perhaps yet more!
-Perhaps even I, reserved by angry fate,
-The last sad relic of my ruin’d state,
-(Dire pomp of sovereign wretchedness!) must fall,
-And stain the pavement of my regal hall;
-Where famish’d dogs, late guardians of my door,
-Shall lick their mangled master’s spatter’d gore.
-Yet for my sons I thank ye, gods! ’tis well;
-Well have they perish’d, for in fight they fell.
-Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best,
-Struck through with wounds, all honest on the breast.
-But when the fates, in fulness of their rage,
-Spurn the hoar head of unresisting age,
-In dust the reverend lineaments deform,
-And pour to dogs the life-blood scarcely warm:
-This, this is misery! the last, the worse,
-That man can feel! man, fated to be cursed!”
-
-He said, and acting what no words could say,
-Rent from his head the silver locks away.
-With him the mournful mother bears a part;
-Yet all her sorrows turn not Hector’s heart.
-The zone unbraced, her bosom she display’d;
-And thus, fast-falling the salt tears, she said:
-
-“Have mercy on me, O my son! revere
-The words of age; attend a parent’s prayer!
-If ever thee in these fond arms I press’d,
-Or still’d thy infant clamours at this breast;
-Ah do not thus our helpless years forego,
-But, by our walls secured, repel the foe.
-Against his rage if singly thou proceed,
-Should’st thou, (but Heaven avert it!) should’st thou bleed,
-Nor must thy corse lie honour’d on the bier,
-Nor spouse, nor mother, grace thee with a tear!
-Far from our pious rites those dear remains
-Must feast the vultures on the naked plains.”
-
-So they, while down their cheeks the torrents roll;
-But fix’d remains the purpose of his soul;
-Resolved he stands, and with a fiery glance
-Expects the hero’s terrible advance.
-So, roll’d up in his den, the swelling snake
-Beholds the traveller approach the brake;
-When fed with noxious herbs his turgid veins
-Have gather’d half the poisons of the plains;
-He burns, he stiffens with collected ire,
-And his red eyeballs glare with living fire.
-Beneath a turret, on his shield reclined,
-He stood, and question’d thus his mighty mind:[275]
-
-“Where lies my way? to enter in the wall?
-Honour and shame the ungenerous thought recall:
-Shall proud Polydamas before the gate
-Proclaim, his counsels are obey’d too late,
-Which timely follow’d but the former night,
-What numbers had been saved by Hector’s flight?
-That wise advice rejected with disdain,
-I feel my folly in my people slain.
-Methinks my suffering country’s voice I hear,
-But most her worthless sons insult my ear,
-On my rash courage charge the chance of war,
-And blame those virtues which they cannot share.
-No—if I e’er return, return I must
-Glorious, my country’s terror laid in dust:
-Or if I perish, let her see me fall
-In field at least, and fighting for her wall.
-And yet suppose these measures I forego,
-Approach unarm’d, and parley with the foe,
-The warrior-shield, the helm, and lance, lay down,
-And treat on terms of peace to save the town:
-The wife withheld, the treasure ill-detain’d
-(Cause of the war, and grievance of the land)
-With honourable justice to restore:
-And add half Ilion’s yet remaining store,
-Which Troy shall, sworn, produce; that injured Greece
-May share our wealth, and leave our walls in peace.
-But why this thought? Unarm’d if I should go,
-What hope of mercy from this vengeful foe,
-But woman-like to fall, and fall without a blow?
-We greet not here, as man conversing man,
-Met at an oak, or journeying o’er a plain;
-No season now for calm familiar talk,
-Like youths and maidens in an evening walk:
-War is our business, but to whom is given
-To die, or triumph, that, determine Heaven!”
-
-Thus pondering, like a god the Greek drew nigh;
-His dreadful plumage nodded from on high;
-The Pelian javelin, in his better hand,
-Shot trembling rays that glitter’d o’er the land;
-And on his breast the beamy splendour shone,
-Like Jove’s own lightning, or the rising sun.
-As Hector sees, unusual terrors rise,
-Struck by some god, he fears, recedes, and flies.
-He leaves the gates, he leaves the wall behind:
-Achilles follows like the winged wind.
-Thus at the panting dove a falcon flies
-(The swiftest racer of the liquid skies),
-Just when he holds, or thinks he holds his prey,
-Obliquely wheeling through the aerial way,
-With open beak and shrilling cries he springs,
-And aims his claws, and shoots upon his wings:
-No less fore-right the rapid chase they held,
-One urged by fury, one by fear impell’d:
-Now circling round the walls their course maintain,
-Where the high watch-tower overlooks the plain;
-Now where the fig-trees spread their umbrage broad,
-(A wider compass,) smoke along the road.
-Next by Scamander’s double source they bound,
-Where two famed fountains burst the parted ground;
-This hot through scorching clefts is seen to rise,
-With exhalations steaming to the skies;
-That the green banks in summer’s heat o’erflows,
-Like crystal clear, and cold as winter snows:
-Each gushing fount a marble cistern fills,
-Whose polish’d bed receives the falling rills;
-Where Trojan dames (ere yet alarm’d by Greece)
-Wash’d their fair garments in the days of peace.[276]
-By these they pass’d, one chasing, one in flight:
-(The mighty fled, pursued by stronger might:)
-Swift was the course; no vulgar prize they play,
-No vulgar victim must reward the day:
-(Such as in races crown the speedy strife:)
-The prize contended was great Hector’s life.
-As when some hero’s funerals are decreed
-In grateful honour of the mighty dead;
-Where high rewards the vigorous youth inflame
-(Some golden tripod, or some lovely dame)
-The panting coursers swiftly turn the goal,
-And with them turns the raised spectator’s soul:
-Thus three times round the Trojan wall they fly.
-The gazing gods lean forward from the sky;
-To whom, while eager on the chase they look,
-The sire of mortals and immortals spoke:
-
-“Unworthy sight! the man beloved of heaven,
-Behold, inglorious round yon city driven!
-My heart partakes the generous Hector’s pain;
-Hector, whose zeal whole hecatombs has slain,
-Whose grateful fumes the gods received with joy,
-From Ida’s summits, and the towers of Troy:
-Now see him flying; to his fears resign’d,
-And fate, and fierce Achilles, close behind.
-Consult, ye powers! (’tis worthy your debate)
-Whether to snatch him from impending fate,
-Or let him bear, by stern Pelides slain,
-(Good as he is) the lot imposed on man.”
-
-Then Pallas thus: “Shall he whose vengeance forms
-The forky bolt, and blackens heaven with storms,
-Shall he prolong one Trojan’s forfeit breath?
-A man, a mortal, pre-ordain’d to death!
-And will no murmurs fill the courts above?
-No gods indignant blame their partial Jove?”
-
-“Go then (return’d the sire) without delay,
-Exert thy will: I give the Fates their way.”
-Swift at the mandate pleased Tritonia flies,
-And stoops impetuous from the cleaving skies.
-
-As through the forest, o’er the vale and lawn,
-The well-breath’d beagle drives the flying fawn,
-In vain he tries the covert of the brakes,
-Or deep beneath the trembling thicket shakes;
-Sure of the vapour in the tainted dews,
-The certain hound his various maze pursues.
-Thus step by step, where’er the Trojan wheel’d,
-There swift Achilles compass’d round the field.
-Oft as to reach the Dardan gates he bends,
-And hopes the assistance of his pitying friends,
-(Whose showering arrows, as he coursed below,
-From the high turrets might oppress the foe,)
-So oft Achilles turns him to the plain:
-He eyes the city, but he eyes in vain.
-As men in slumbers seem with speedy pace,
-One to pursue, and one to lead the chase,
-Their sinking limbs the fancied course forsake,
-Nor this can fly, nor that can overtake:
-No less the labouring heroes pant and strain:
-While that but flies, and this pursues in vain.
-
-What god, O muse, assisted Hector’s force
-With fate itself so long to hold the course?
-Phœbus it was; who, in his latest hour,
-Endued his knees with strength, his nerves with power:
-And great Achilles, lest some Greek’s advance
-Should snatch the glory from his lifted lance,
-Sign’d to the troops to yield his foe the way,
-And leave untouch’d the honours of the day.
-
-Jove lifts the golden balances, that show
-The fates of mortal men, and things below:
-Here each contending hero’s lot he tries,
-And weighs, with equal hand, their destinies.
-Low sinks the scale surcharged with Hector’s fate;
-Heavy with death it sinks, and hell receives the weight.
-
-Then Phœbus left him. Fierce Minerva flies
-To stern Pelides, and triumphing, cries:
-“O loved of Jove! this day our labours cease,
-And conquest blazes with full beams on Greece.
-Great Hector falls; that Hector famed so far,
-Drunk with renown, insatiable of war,
-Falls by thy hand, and mine! nor force, nor flight,
-Shall more avail him, nor his god of light.
-See, where in vain he supplicates above,
-Roll’d at the feet of unrelenting Jove;
-Rest here: myself will lead the Trojan on,
-And urge to meet the fate he cannot shun.”
-
-Her voice divine the chief with joyful mind
-Obey’d; and rested, on his lance reclined
-While like Deiphobus the martial dame
-(Her face, her gesture, and her arms the same),
-In show an aid, by hapless Hector’s side
-Approach’d, and greets him thus with voice belied:
-
-“Too long, O Hector! have I borne the sight
-Of this distress, and sorrow’d in thy flight:
-It fits us now a noble stand to make,
-And here, as brothers, equal fates partake.”
-
-Then he: “O prince! allied in blood and fame,
-Dearer than all that own a brother’s name;
-Of all that Hecuba to Priam bore,
-Long tried, long loved: much loved, but honoured more!
-Since you, of all our numerous race alone
-Defend my life, regardless of your own.”
-
-Again the goddess: “Much my father’s prayer,
-And much my mother’s, press’d me to forbear:
-My friends embraced my knees, adjured my stay,
-But stronger love impell’d, and I obey.
-Come then, the glorious conflict let us try,
-Let the steel sparkle, and the javelin fly;
-Or let us stretch Achilles on the field,
-Or to his arm our bloody trophies yield.”
-
-Fraudful she said; then swiftly march’d before:
-The Dardan hero shuns his foe no more.
-Sternly they met. The silence Hector broke:
-His dreadful plumage nodded as he spoke:
-
-“Enough, O son of Peleus! Troy has view’d
-Her walls thrice circled, and her chief pursued.
-But now some god within me bids me try
-Thine, or my fate: I kill thee, or I die.
-Yet on the verge of battle let us stay,
-And for a moment’s space suspend the day;
-Let Heaven’s high powers be call’d to arbitrate
-The just conditions of this stern debate,
-(Eternal witnesses of all below,
-And faithful guardians of the treasured vow!)
-To them I swear; if, victor in the strife,
-Jove by these hands shall shed thy noble life,
-No vile dishonour shall thy corse pursue;
-Stripp’d of its arms alone (the conqueror’s due)
-The rest to Greece uninjured I’ll restore:
-Now plight thy mutual oath, I ask no more.”
-
-“Talk not of oaths (the dreadful chief replies,
-While anger flash’d from his disdainful eyes),
-Detested as thou art, and ought to be,
-Nor oath nor pact Achilles plights with thee:
-Such pacts as lambs and rabid wolves combine,
-Such leagues as men and furious lions join,
-To such I call the gods! one constant state
-Of lasting rancour and eternal hate:
-No thought but rage, and never-ceasing strife,
-Till death extinguish rage, and thought, and life.
-Rouse then thy forces this important hour,
-Collect thy soul, and call forth all thy power.
-No further subterfuge, no further chance;
-’Tis Pallas, Pallas gives thee to my lance.
-Each Grecian ghost, by thee deprived of breath,
-Now hovers round, and calls thee to thy death.”
-
-He spoke, and launch’d his javelin at the foe;
-But Hector shunn’d the meditated blow:
-He stoop’d, while o’er his head the flying spear
-Sang innocent, and spent its force in air.
-Minerva watch’d it falling on the land,
-Then drew, and gave to great Achilles’ hand,
-Unseen of Hector, who, elate with joy,
-Now shakes his lance, and braves the dread of Troy.
-
-“The life you boasted to that javelin given,
-Prince! you have miss’d. My fate depends on Heaven,
-To thee, presumptuous as thou art, unknown,
-Or what must prove my fortune, or thy own.
-Boasting is but an art, our fears to blind,
-And with false terrors sink another’s mind.
-But know, whatever fate I am to try,
-By no dishonest wound shall Hector die.
-I shall not fall a fugitive at least,
-My soul shall bravely issue from my breast.
-But first, try thou my arm; and may this dart
-End all my country’s woes, deep buried in thy heart.”
-
-The weapon flew, its course unerring held,
-Unerring, but the heavenly shield repell’d
-The mortal dart; resulting with a bound
-From off the ringing orb, it struck the ground.
-Hector beheld his javelin fall in vain,
-Nor other lance, nor other hope remain;
-He calls Deiphobus, demands a spear—
-In vain, for no Deiphobus was there.
-All comfortless he stands: then, with a sigh;
-“’Tis so—Heaven wills it, and my hour is nigh!
-I deem’d Deiphobus had heard my call,
-But he secure lies guarded in the wall.
-A god deceived me; Pallas, ’twas thy deed,
-Death and black fate approach! ’tis I must bleed.
-No refuge now, no succour from above,
-Great Jove deserts me, and the son of Jove,
-Propitious once, and kind! Then welcome fate!
-’Tis true I perish, yet I perish great:
-Yet in a mighty deed I shall expire,
-Let future ages hear it, and admire!”
-
-Fierce, at the word, his weighty sword he drew,
-And, all collected, on Achilles flew.
-So Jove’s bold bird, high balanced in the air,
-Stoops from the clouds to truss the quivering hare.
-Nor less Achilles his fierce soul prepares:
-Before his breast the flaming shield he bears,
-Refulgent orb! above his fourfold cone
-The gilded horse-hair sparkled in the sun.
-Nodding at every step: (Vulcanian frame!)
-And as he moved, his figure seem’d on flame.
-As radiant Hesper shines with keener light,[277]
-Far-beaming o’er the silver host of night,
-When all the starry train emblaze the sphere:
-So shone the point of great Achilles’ spear.
-In his right hand he waves the weapon round,
-Eyes the whole man, and meditates the wound;
-But the rich mail Patroclus lately wore
-Securely cased the warrior’s body o’er.
-One space at length he spies, to let in fate,
-Where ’twixt the neck and throat the jointed plate
-Gave entrance: through that penetrable part
-Furious he drove the well-directed dart:
-Nor pierced the windpipe yet, nor took the power
-Of speech, unhappy! from thy dying hour.
-Prone on the field the bleeding warrior lies,
-While, thus triumphing, stern Achilles cries:
-
-“At last is Hector stretch’d upon the plain,
-Who fear’d no vengeance for Patroclus slain:
-Then, prince! you should have fear’d, what now you feel;
-Achilles absent was Achilles still:
-Yet a short space the great avenger stayed,
-Then low in dust thy strength and glory laid.
-Peaceful he sleeps, with all our rites adorn’d,
-For ever honour’d, and for ever mourn’d:
-While cast to all the rage of hostile power,
-Thee birds shall mangle, and the gods devour.”
-
-Then Hector, fainting at the approach of death:
-“By thy own soul! by those who gave thee breath!
-By all the sacred prevalence of prayer;
-Ah, leave me not for Grecian dogs to tear!
-The common rites of sepulture bestow,
-To soothe a father’s and a mother’s woe:
-Let their large gifts procure an urn at least,
-And Hector’s ashes in his country rest.”
-
-“No, wretch accursed! relentless he replies;
-(Flames, as he spoke, shot flashing from his eyes;)
-Not those who gave me breath should bid me spare,
-Nor all the sacred prevalence of prayer.
-Could I myself the bloody banquet join!
-No—to the dogs that carcase I resign.
-Should Troy, to bribe me, bring forth all her store,
-And giving thousands, offer thousands more;
-Should Dardan Priam, and his weeping dame,
-Drain their whole realm to buy one funeral flame:
-Their Hector on the pile they should not see,
-Nor rob the vultures of one limb of thee.”
-
-Then thus the chief his dying accents drew:
-“Thy rage, implacable! too well I knew:
-The Furies that relentless breast have steel’d,
-And cursed thee with a heart that cannot yield.
-Yet think, a day will come, when fate’s decree
-And angry gods shall wreak this wrong on thee;
-Phœbus and Paris shall avenge my fate,
-And stretch thee here before the Scæan gate.”[278]
-
-He ceased. The Fates suppress’d his labouring breath,
-And his eyes stiffen’d at the hand of death;
-To the dark realm the spirit wings its way,
-(The manly body left a load of clay,)
-And plaintive glides along the dreary coast,
-A naked, wandering, melancholy ghost!
-
-Achilles, musing as he roll’d his eyes
-O’er the dead hero, thus unheard, replies:
-“Die thou the first! When Jove and heaven ordain,
-I follow thee”—He said, and stripp’d the slain.
-Then forcing backward from the gaping wound
-The reeking javelin, cast it on the ground.
-The thronging Greeks behold with wondering eyes
-His manly beauty and superior size;
-While some, ignobler, the great dead deface
-With wounds ungenerous, or with taunts disgrace:
-
-“How changed that Hector, who like Jove of late
-Sent lightning on our fleets, and scatter’d fate!”
-
-High o’er the slain the great Achilles stands,
-Begirt with heroes and surrounding bands;
-And thus aloud, while all the host attends:
-“Princes and leaders! countrymen and friends!
-Since now at length the powerful will of heaven
-The dire destroyer to our arm has given,
-Is not Troy fallen already? Haste, ye powers!
-See, if already their deserted towers
-Are left unmann’d; or if they yet retain
-The souls of heroes, their great Hector slain.
-But what is Troy, or glory what to me?
-Or why reflects my mind on aught but thee,
-Divine Patroclus! Death hath seal’d his eyes;
-Unwept, unhonour’d, uninterr’d he lies!
-Can his dear image from my soul depart,
-Long as the vital spirit moves my heart?
-If in the melancholy shades below,
-The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow,
-Yet mine shall sacred last; mine, undecay’d,
-Burn on through death, and animate my shade.
-Meanwhile, ye sons of Greece, in triumph bring
-The corpse of Hector, and your pæans sing.
-Be this the song, slow-moving toward the shore,
-“Hector is dead, and Ilion is no more.””
-
-Then his fell soul a thought of vengeance bred;
-(Unworthy of himself, and of the dead;)
-The nervous ancles bored, his feet he bound
-With thongs inserted through the double wound;
-These fix’d up high behind the rolling wain,
-His graceful head was trail’d along the plain.
-Proud on his car the insulting victor stood,
-And bore aloft his arms, distilling blood.
-He smites the steeds; the rapid chariot flies;
-The sudden clouds of circling dust arise.
-Now lost is all that formidable air;
-The face divine, and long-descending hair,
-Purple the ground, and streak the sable sand;
-Deform’d, dishonour’d, in his native land,
-Given to the rage of an insulting throng,
-And, in his parents’ sight, now dragg’d along!
-
-The mother first beheld with sad survey;
-She rent her tresses, venerable grey,
-And cast, far off, the regal veils away.
-With piercing shrieks his bitter fate she moans,
-While the sad father answers groans with groans,
-Tears after tears his mournful cheeks o’erflow,
-And the whole city wears one face of woe:
-No less than if the rage of hostile fires,
-From her foundations curling to her spires,
-O’er the proud citadel at length should rise,
-And the last blaze send Ilion to the skies.
-The wretched monarch of the falling state,
-Distracted, presses to the Dardan gate.
-Scarce the whole people stop his desperate course,
-While strong affliction gives the feeble force:
-Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
-In all the raging impotence of woe.
-At length he roll’d in dust, and thus begun,
-Imploring all, and naming one by one:
-“Ah! let me, let me go where sorrow calls;
-I, only I, will issue from your walls
-(Guide or companion, friends! I ask ye none),
-And bow before the murderer of my son.
-My grief perhaps his pity may engage;
-Perhaps at least he may respect my age.
-He has a father too; a man like me;
-One, not exempt from age and misery
-(Vigorous no more, as when his young embrace
-Begot this pest of me, and all my race).
-How many valiant sons, in early bloom,
-Has that cursed hand sent headlong to the tomb!
-Thee, Hector! last: thy loss (divinely brave)
-Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave.
-O had thy gentle spirit pass’d in peace,
-The son expiring in the sire’s embrace,
-While both thy parents wept the fatal hour,
-And, bending o’er thee, mix’d the tender shower!
-Some comfort that had been, some sad relief,
-To melt in full satiety of grief!”
-
-Thus wail’d the father, grovelling on the ground,
-And all the eyes of Ilion stream’d around.
-
-Amidst her matrons Hecuba appears:
-(A mourning princess, and a train in tears;)
-“Ah why has Heaven prolong’d this hated breath,
-Patient of horrors, to behold thy death?
-O Hector! late thy parents’ pride and joy,
-The boast of nations! the defence of Troy!
-To whom her safety and her fame she owed;
-Her chief, her hero, and almost her god!
-O fatal change! become in one sad day
-A senseless corse! inanimated clay!”
-
-But not as yet the fatal news had spread
-To fair Andromache, of Hector dead;
-As yet no messenger had told his fate,
-Not e’en his stay without the Scæan gate.
-Far in the close recesses of the dome,
-Pensive she plied the melancholy loom;
-A growing work employ’d her secret hours,
-Confusedly gay with intermingled flowers.
-Her fair-haired handmaids heat the brazen urn,
-The bath preparing for her lord’s return
-In vain; alas! her lord returns no more;
-Unbathed he lies, and bleeds along the shore!
-Now from the walls the clamours reach her ear,
-And all her members shake with sudden fear:
-Forth from her ivory hand the shuttle falls,
-And thus, astonish’d, to her maids she calls:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE BATH
-
-
-“Ah follow me! (she cried) what plaintive noise
-Invades my ear? ’Tis sure my mother’s voice.
-My faltering knees their trembling frame desert,
-A pulse unusual flutters at my heart;
-Some strange disaster, some reverse of fate
-(Ye gods avert it!) threats the Trojan state.
-Far be the omen which my thoughts suggest!
-But much I fear my Hector’s dauntless breast
-Confronts Achilles; chased along the plain,
-Shut from our walls! I fear, I fear him slain!
-Safe in the crowd he ever scorn’d to wait,
-And sought for glory in the jaws of fate:
-Perhaps that noble heat has cost his breath,
-Now quench’d for ever in the arms of death.”
-
-She spoke: and furious, with distracted pace,
-Fears in her heart, and anguish in her face,
-Flies through the dome (the maids her steps pursue),
-And mounts the walls, and sends around her view.
-Too soon her eyes the killing object found,
-The godlike Hector dragg’d along the ground.
-A sudden darkness shades her swimming eyes:
-She faints, she falls; her breath, her colour flies.
-Her hair’s fair ornaments, the braids that bound,
-The net that held them, and the wreath that crown’d,
-The veil and diadem flew far away
-(The gift of Venus on her bridal day).
-Around a train of weeping sisters stands,
-To raise her sinking with assistant hands.
-Scarce from the verge of death recall’d, again
-She faints, or but recovers to complain.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] ANDROMACHE FAINTING ON THE WALL
-
-
-“O wretched husband of a wretched wife!
-Born with one fate, to one unhappy life!
-For sure one star its baneful beam display’d
-On Priam’s roof, and Hippoplacia’s shade.
-From different parents, different climes we came.
-At different periods, yet our fate the same!
-Why was my birth to great Aëtion owed,
-And why was all that tender care bestow’d?
-Would I had never been!—O thou, the ghost
-Of my dead husband! miserably lost!
-Thou to the dismal realms for ever gone!
-And I abandon’d, desolate, alone!
-An only child, once comfort of my pains,
-Sad product now of hapless love, remains!
-No more to smile upon his sire; no friend
-To help him now! no father to defend!
-For should he ’scape the sword, the common doom,
-What wrongs attend him, and what griefs to come!
-Even from his own paternal roof expell’d,
-Some stranger ploughs his patrimonial field.
-The day, that to the shades the father sends,
-Robs the sad orphan of his father’s friends:
-He, wretched outcast of mankind! appears
-For ever sad, for ever bathed in tears;
-Amongst the happy, unregarded, he
-Hangs on the robe, or trembles at the knee,
-While those his father’s former bounty fed
-Nor reach the goblet, nor divide the bread:
-The kindest but his present wants allay,
-To leave him wretched the succeeding day.
-Frugal compassion! Heedless, they who boast
-Both parents still, nor feel what he has lost,
-Shall cry, ‘Begone! thy father feasts not here:’
-The wretch obeys, retiring with a tear.
-Thus wretched, thus retiring all in tears,
-To my sad soul Astyanax appears!
-Forced by repeated insults to return,
-And to his widow’d mother vainly mourn:
-He, who, with tender delicacy bred,
-With princes sported, and on dainties fed,
-And when still evening gave him up to rest,
-Sunk soft in down upon the nurse’s breast,
-Must—ah what must he not? Whom Ilion calls
-Astyanax, from her well-guarded walls,[279]
-Is now that name no more, unhappy boy!
-Since now no more thy father guards his Troy.
-But thou, my Hector, liest exposed in air,
-Far from thy parents’ and thy consort’s care;
-Whose hand in vain, directed by her love,
-The martial scarf and robe of triumph wove.
-Now to devouring flames be these a prey,
-Useless to thee, from this accursed day!
-Yet let the sacrifice at least be paid,
-An honour to the living, not the dead!”
-
-
-So spake the mournful dame: her matrons hear, Sigh back her sighs, and
-answer tear with tear.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XXIII.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-FUNERAL GAMES IN HONOUR OF PATROCLUS.[280]
-
-
-Achilles and the Myrmidons do honours to the body of Patroclus. After
-the funeral feast he retires to the sea-shore, where, falling asleep,
-the ghost of his friend appears to him, and demands the rites of
-burial; the next morning the soldiers are sent with mules and waggons
-to fetch wood for the pyre. The funeral procession, and the offering
-their hair to the dead. Achilles sacrifices several animals, and lastly
-twelve Trojan captives, at the pile; then sets fire to it. He pays
-libations to the Winds, which (at the instance of Iris) rise, and raise
-the flames. When the pile has burned all night, they gather the bones,
-place them in an urn of gold, and raise the tomb. Achilles institutes
-the funeral games: the chariot-race, the fight of the caestus, the
-wrestling, the foot-race, the single combat, the discus, the shooting
-with arrows, the darting the javelin: the various descriptions of
-which, and the various success of the several antagonists, make the
-greatest part of the book.
-    In this book ends the thirtieth day. The night following, the ghost
-    of Patroclus appears to Achilles: the one-and-thirtieth day is
-    employed in felling the timber for the pile: the two-and-thirtieth
-    in burning it; and the three-and-thirtieth in the games. The scene
-    is generally on the sea-shore.
-
-
-Thus humbled in the dust, the pensive train
-Through the sad city mourn’d her hero slain.
-The body soil’d with dust, and black with gore,
-Lies on broad Hellespont’s resounding shore.
-The Grecians seek their ships, and clear the strand,
-All, but the martial Myrmidonian band:
-These yet assembled great Achilles holds,
-And the stern purpose of his mind unfolds:
-
-“Not yet, my brave companions of the war,
-Release your smoking coursers from the car;
-But, with his chariot each in order led,
-Perform due honours to Patroclus dead.
-Ere yet from rest or food we seek relief,
-Some rites remain, to glut our rage of grief.”
-
-The troops obey’d; and thrice in order led[281]
-(Achilles first) their coursers round the dead;
-And thrice their sorrows and laments renew;
-Tears bathe their arms, and tears the sands bedew.
-For such a warrior Thetis aids their woe,
-Melts their strong hearts, and bids their eyes to flow.
-But chief, Pelides: thick-succeeding sighs
-Burst from his heart, and torrents from his eyes:
-His slaughtering hands, yet red with blood, he laid
-On his dead friend’s cold breast, and thus he said:
-
-“All hail, Patroclus! let thy honour’d ghost
-Hear, and rejoice on Pluto’s dreary coast;
-Behold! Achilles’ promise is complete;
-The bloody Hector stretch’d before thy feet.
-Lo! to the dogs his carcase I resign;
-And twelve sad victims, of the Trojan line,
-Sacred to vengeance, instant shall expire;
-Their lives effused around thy funeral pyre.”
-
-Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view)
-Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw,
-Prone on the dust. The Myrmidons around
-Unbraced their armour, and the steeds unbound.
-All to Achilles’ sable ship repair,
-Frequent and full, the genial feast to share.
-Now from the well-fed swine black smokes aspire,
-The bristly victims hissing o’er the fire:
-The huge ox bellowing falls; with feebler cries
-Expires the goat; the sheep in silence dies.
-Around the hero’s prostrate body flow’d,
-In one promiscuous stream, the reeking blood.
-And now a band of Argive monarchs brings
-The glorious victor to the king of kings.
-From his dead friend the pensive warrior went,
-With steps unwilling, to the regal tent.
-The attending heralds, as by office bound,
-With kindled flames the tripod-vase surround:
-To cleanse his conquering hands from hostile gore,
-They urged in vain; the chief refused, and swore:[282]
-
-“No drop shall touch me, by almighty Jove!
-The first and greatest of the gods above!
-Till on the pyre I place thee; till I rear
-The grassy mound, and clip thy sacred hair.
-Some ease at least those pious rites may give,
-And soothe my sorrows, while I bear to live.
-Howe’er, reluctant as I am, I stay
-And share your feast; but with the dawn of day,
-(O king of men!) it claims thy royal care,
-That Greece the warrior’s funeral pile prepare,
-And bid the forests fall: (such rites are paid
-To heroes slumbering in eternal shade:)
-Then, when his earthly part shall mount in fire,
-Let the leagued squadrons to their posts retire.”
-
-He spoke: they hear him, and the word obey;
-The rage of hunger and of thirst allay,
-Then ease in sleep the labours of the day.
-But great Pelides, stretch’d along the shore,
-Where, dash’d on rocks, the broken billows roar,
-Lies inly groaning; while on either hand
-The martial Myrmidons confusedly stand.
-Along the grass his languid members fall,
-Tired with his chase around the Trojan wall;
-Hush’d by the murmurs of the rolling deep,
-At length he sinks in the soft arms of sleep.
-When lo! the shade, before his closing eyes,
-Of sad Patroclus rose, or seem’d to rise:
-In the same robe he living wore, he came:
-In stature, voice, and pleasing look, the same.
-The form familiar hover’d o’er his head,
-“And sleeps Achilles? (thus the phantom said:)
-Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead?
-Living, I seem’d his dearest, tenderest care,
-But now forgot, I wander in the air.
-Let my pale corse the rites of burial know,
-And give me entrance in the realms below:
-Till then the spirit finds no resting-place,
-But here and there the unbodied spectres chase
-The vagrant dead around the dark abode,
-Forbid to cross the irremeable flood.
-Now give thy hand; for to the farther shore
-When once we pass, the soul returns no more:
-When once the last funereal flames ascend,
-No more shall meet Achilles and his friend;
-No more our thoughts to those we loved make known;
-Or quit the dearest, to converse alone.
-Me fate has sever’d from the sons of earth,
-The fate fore-doom’d that waited from my birth:
-Thee too it waits; before the Trojan wall
-Even great and godlike thou art doom’d to fall.
-Hear then; and as in fate and love we join,
-Ah suffer that my bones may rest with thine!
-Together have we lived; together bred,
-One house received us, and one table fed;
-That golden urn, thy goddess-mother gave,
-May mix our ashes in one common grave.”
-
-“And is it thou? (he answers) To my sight[283]
-Once more return’st thou from the realms of night?
-O more than brother! Think each office paid,
-Whate’er can rest a discontented shade;
-But grant one last embrace, unhappy boy!
-Afford at least that melancholy joy.”
-
-He said, and with his longing arms essay’d
-In vain to grasp the visionary shade!
-Like a thin smoke he sees the spirit fly,[284]
-And hears a feeble, lamentable cry.
-Confused he wakes; amazement breaks the bands
-Of golden sleep, and starting from the sands,
-Pensive he muses with uplifted hands:
-
-“’Tis true, ’tis certain; man, though dead, retains
-Part of himself; the immortal mind remains:
-The form subsists without the body’s aid,
-Aerial semblance, and an empty shade!
-This night my friend, so late in battle lost,
-Stood at my side, a pensive, plaintive ghost:
-Even now familiar, as in life, he came;
-Alas! how different! yet how like the same!”
-
-Thus while he spoke, each eye grew big with tears:
-And now the rosy-finger’d morn appears,
-Shows every mournful face with tears o’erspread,
-And glares on the pale visage of the dead.
-But Agamemnon, as the rites demand,
-With mules and waggons sends a chosen band
-To load the timber, and the pile to rear;
-A charge consign’d to Merion’s faithful care.
-With proper instruments they take the road,
-Axes to cut, and ropes to sling the load.
-First march the heavy mules, securely slow,
-O’er hills, o’er dales, o’er crags, o’er rocks they go:[285]
-Jumping, high o’er the shrubs of the rough ground,
-Rattle the clattering cars, and the shock’d axles bound.
-But when arrived at Ida’s spreading woods,[286]
-(Fair Ida, water’d with descending floods,)
-Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes;
-On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks
-Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown;
-Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
-The wood the Grecians cleave, prepared to burn;
-And the slow mules the same rough road return.
-The sturdy woodmen equal burdens bore
-(Such charge was given them) to the sandy shore;
-There on the spot which great Achilles show’d,
-They eased their shoulders, and disposed the load;
-Circling around the place, where times to come
-Shall view Patroclus’ and Achilles’ tomb.
-The hero bids his martial troops appear
-High on their cars in all the pomp of war;
-Each in refulgent arms his limbs attires,
-All mount their chariots, combatants and squires.
-The chariots first proceed, a shining train;
-Then clouds of foot that smoke along the plain;
-Next these the melancholy band appear;
-Amidst, lay dead Patroclus on the bier;
-O’er all the corse their scattered locks they throw;
-Achilles next, oppress’d with mighty woe,
-Supporting with his hands the hero’s head,
-Bends o’er the extended body of the dead.
-Patroclus decent on the appointed ground
-They place, and heap the sylvan pile around.
-But great Achilles stands apart in prayer,
-And from his head divides the yellow hair;
-Those curling locks which from his youth he vow’d,[287]
-And sacred grew, to Sperchius’ honour’d flood:
-Then sighing, to the deep his locks he cast,
-And roll’d his eyes around the watery waste:
-
-“Sperchius! whose waves in mazy errors lost
-Delightful roll along my native coast!
-To whom we vainly vow’d, at our return,
-These locks to fall, and hecatombs to burn:
-Full fifty rams to bleed in sacrifice,
-Where to the day thy silver fountains rise,
-And where in shade of consecrated bowers
-Thy altars stand, perfumed with native flowers!
-So vow’d my father, but he vow’d in vain;
-No more Achilles sees his native plain;
-In that vain hope these hairs no longer grow,
-Patroclus bears them to the shades below.”
-
-Thus o’er Patroclus while the hero pray’d,
-On his cold hand the sacred lock he laid.
-Once more afresh the Grecian sorrows flow:
-And now the sun had set upon their woe;
-But to the king of men thus spoke the chief:
-“Enough, Atrides! give the troops relief:
-Permit the mourning legions to retire,
-And let the chiefs alone attend the pyre;
-The pious care be ours, the dead to burn—”
-He said: the people to their ships return:
-While those deputed to inter the slain
-Heap with a rising pyramid the plain.[288]
-A hundred foot in length, a hundred wide,
-The growing structure spreads on every side;
-High on the top the manly corse they lay,
-And well-fed sheep and sable oxen slay:
-Achilles covered with their fat the dead,
-And the piled victims round the body spread;
-Then jars of honey, and of fragrant oil,
-Suspends around, low-bending o’er the pile.
-Four sprightly coursers, with a deadly groan
-Pour forth their lives, and on the pyre are thrown.
-Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board,
-Fall two, selected to attend their lord,
-Then last of all, and horrible to tell,
-Sad sacrifice! twelve Trojan captives fell.[289]
-On these the rage of fire victorious preys,
-Involves and joins them in one common blaze.
-Smear’d with the bloody rites, he stands on high,
-And calls the spirit with a dreadful cry:[290]
-
-“All hail, Patroclus! let thy vengeful ghost
-Hear, and exult, on Pluto’s dreary coast.
-Behold Achilles’ promise fully paid,
-Twelve Trojan heroes offer’d to thy shade;
-But heavier fates on Hector’s corse attend,
-Saved from the flames, for hungry dogs to rend.”
-
-So spake he, threatening: but the gods made vain
-His threat, and guard inviolate the slain:
-Celestial Venus hover’d o’er his head,
-And roseate unguents, heavenly fragrance! shed:
-She watch’d him all the night and all the day,
-And drove the bloodhounds from their destined prey.
-Nor sacred Phœbus less employ’d his care;
-He pour’d around a veil of gather’d air,
-And kept the nerves undried, the flesh entire,
-Against the solar beam and Sirian fire.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE FUNERAL PILE OF PATROCLUS
-
-
-Nor yet the pile, where dead Patroclus lies,
-Smokes, nor as yet the sullen flames arise;
-But, fast beside, Achilles stood in prayer,
-Invoked the gods whose spirit moves the air,
-And victims promised, and libations cast,
-To gentle Zephyr and the Boreal blast:
-He call’d the aerial powers, along the skies
-To breathe, and whisper to the fires to rise.
-The winged Iris heard the hero’s call,
-And instant hasten’d to their airy hall,
-Where in old Zephyr’s open courts on high,
-Sat all the blustering brethren of the sky.
-She shone amidst them, on her painted bow;
-The rocky pavement glitter’d with the show.
-All from the banquet rise, and each invites
-The various goddess to partake the rites.
-“Not so (the dame replied), I haste to go
-To sacred Ocean, and the floods below:
-Even now our solemn hecatombs attend,
-And heaven is feasting on the world’s green end
-With righteous Ethiops (uncorrupted train!)
-Far on the extremest limits of the main.
-But Peleus’ son entreats, with sacrifice,
-The western spirit, and the north, to rise!
-Let on Patroclus’ pile your blast be driven,
-And bear the blazing honours high to heaven.”
-
-Swift as the word she vanish’d from their view;
-Swift as the word the winds tumultuous flew;
-Forth burst the stormy band with thundering roar,
-And heaps on heaps the clouds are toss’d before.
-To the wide main then stooping from the skies,
-The heaving deeps in watery mountains rise:
-Troy feels the blast along her shaking walls,
-Till on the pile the gather’d tempest falls.
-The structure crackles in the roaring fires,
-And all the night the plenteous flame aspires.
-All night Achilles hails Patroclus’ soul,
-With large libations from the golden bowl.
-As a poor father, helpless and undone,
-Mourns o’er the ashes of an only son,
-Takes a sad pleasure the last bones to burn,
-And pours in tears, ere yet they close the urn:
-So stay’d Achilles, circling round the shore,
-So watch’d the flames, till now they flame no more.
-’Twas when, emerging through the shades of night,
-The morning planet told the approach of light;
-And, fast behind, Aurora’s warmer ray
-O’er the broad ocean pour’d the golden day:
-Then sank the blaze, the pile no longer burn’d,
-And to their caves the whistling winds return’d:
-Across the Thracian seas their course they bore;
-The ruffled seas beneath their passage roar.
-
-Then parting from the pile he ceased to weep,
-And sank to quiet in the embrace of sleep,
-Exhausted with his grief: meanwhile the crowd
-Of thronging Grecians round Achilles stood;
-The tumult waked him: from his eyes he shook
-Unwilling slumber, and the chiefs bespoke:
-
-“Ye kings and princes of the Achaian name!
-First let us quench the yet remaining flame
-With sable wine; then, as the rites direct,
-The hero’s bones with careful view select:
-(Apart, and easy to be known they lie
-Amidst the heap, and obvious to the eye:
-The rest around the margin will be seen
-Promiscuous, steeds and immolated men:)
-These wrapp’d in double cauls of fat, prepare;
-And in the golden vase dispose with care;
-There let them rest with decent honour laid,
-Till I shall follow to the infernal shade.
-Meantime erect the tomb with pious hands,
-A common structure on the humble sands:
-Hereafter Greece some nobler work may raise,
-And late posterity record our praise!”
-
-The Greeks obey; where yet the embers glow,
-Wide o’er the pile the sable wine they throw,
-And deep subsides the ashy heap below.
-Next the white bones his sad companions place,
-With tears collected, in the golden vase.
-The sacred relics to the tent they bore;
-The urn a veil of linen covered o’er.
-That done, they bid the sepulchre aspire,
-And cast the deep foundations round the pyre;
-High in the midst they heap the swelling bed
-Of rising earth, memorial of the dead.
-
-The swarming populace the chief detains,
-And leads amidst a wide extent of plains;
-There placed them round: then from the ships proceeds
-A train of oxen, mules, and stately steeds,
-Vases and tripods (for the funeral games),
-Resplendent brass, and more resplendent dames.
-First stood the prizes to reward the force
-Of rapid racers in the dusty course:
-A woman for the first, in beauty’s bloom,
-Skill’d in the needle, and the labouring loom;
-And a large vase, where two bright handles rise,
-Of twenty measures its capacious size.
-The second victor claims a mare unbroke,
-Big with a mule, unknowing of the yoke:
-The third, a charger yet untouch’d by flame;
-Four ample measures held the shining frame:
-Two golden talents for the fourth were placed:
-An ample double bowl contents the last.
-These in fair order ranged upon the plain,
-The hero, rising, thus address’d the train:
-
-“Behold the prizes, valiant Greeks! decreed
-To the brave rulers of the racing steed;
-Prizes which none beside ourself could gain,
-Should our immortal coursers take the plain;
-(A race unrivall’d, which from ocean’s god
-Peleus received, and on his son bestow’d.)
-But this no time our vigour to display;
-Nor suit, with them, the games of this sad day:
-Lost is Patroclus now, that wont to deck
-Their flowing manes, and sleek their glossy neck.
-Sad, as they shared in human grief, they stand,
-And trail those graceful honours on the sand!
-Let others for the noble task prepare,
-Who trust the courser and the flying car.”
-
-Fired at his word the rival racers rise;
-But far the first Eumelus hopes the prize,
-Famed though Pieria for the fleetest breed,
-And skill’d to manage the high-bounding steed.
-With equal ardour bold Tydides swell’d,
-The steeds of Tros beneath his yoke compell’d
-(Which late obey’d the Dardan chief’s command,
-When scarce a god redeem’d him from his hand).
-Then Menelaus his Podargus brings,
-And the famed courser of the king of kings:
-Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave),
-To ’scape the wars, to Agamemnon gave,
-(Æthe her name) at home to end his days;
-Base wealth preferring to eternal praise.
-Next him Antilochus demands the course
-With beating heart, and cheers his Pylian horse.
-Experienced Nestor gives his son the reins,
-Directs his judgment, and his heat restrains;
-Nor idly warns the hoary sire, nor hears
-The prudent son with unattending ears.
-
-“My son! though youthful ardour fire thy breast,
-The gods have loved thee, and with arts have bless’d;
-Neptune and Jove on thee conferr’d the skill
-Swift round the goal to turn the flying wheel.
-To guide thy conduct little precept needs;
-But slow, and past their vigour, are my steeds.
-Fear not thy rivals, though for swiftness known;
-Compare those rivals’ judgment and thy own:
-It is not strength, but art, obtains the prize,
-And to be swift is less than to be wise.
-’Tis more by art than force of numerous strokes
-The dexterous woodman shapes the stubborn oaks;
-By art the pilot, through the boiling deep
-And howling tempest, steers the fearless ship;
-And ’tis the artist wins the glorious course;
-Not those who trust in chariots and in horse.
-In vain, unskilful to the goal they strive,
-And short, or wide, the ungovern’d courser drive:
-While with sure skill, though with inferior steeds,
-The knowing racer to his end proceeds;
-Fix’d on the goal his eye foreruns the course,
-His hand unerring steers the steady horse,
-And now contracts, or now extends the rein,
-Observing still the foremost on the plain.
-Mark then the goal, ’tis easy to be found;
-Yon aged trunk, a cubit from the ground;
-Of some once stately oak the last remains,
-Or hardy fir, unperish’d with the rains:
-Inclosed with stones, conspicuous from afar;
-And round, a circle for the wheeling car.
-(Some tomb perhaps of old, the dead to grace;
-Or then, as now, the limit of a race.)
-Bear close to this, and warily proceed,
-A little bending to the left-hand steed;
-But urge the right, and give him all the reins;
-While thy strict hand his fellow’s head restrains,
-And turns him short; till, doubling as they roll,
-The wheel’s round naves appear to brush the goal.
-Yet (not to break the car, or lame the horse)
-Clear of the stony heap direct the course;
-Lest through incaution failing, thou mayst be
-A joy to others, a reproach to me.
-So shalt thou pass the goal, secure of mind,
-And leave unskilful swiftness far behind:
-Though thy fierce rival drove the matchless steed
-Which bore Adrastus, of celestial breed;
-Or the famed race, through all the regions known,
-That whirl’d the car of proud Laomedon.”
-
-Thus (nought unsaid) the much-advising sage
-Concludes; then sat, stiff with unwieldy age.
-Next bold Meriones was seen to rise,
-The last, but not least ardent for the prize.
-They mount their seats; the lots their place dispose
-(Roll’d in his helmet, these Achilles throws).
-Young Nestor leads the race: Eumelus then;
-And next the brother of the king of men:
-Thy lot, Meriones, the fourth was cast;
-And, far the bravest, Diomed, was last.
-They stand in order, an impatient train:
-Pelides points the barrier on the plain,
-And sends before old Phœnix to the place,
-To mark the racers, and to judge the race.
-At once the coursers from the barrier bound;
-The lifted scourges all at once resound;
-Their heart, their eyes, their voice, they send before;
-And up the champaign thunder from the shore:
-Thick, where they drive, the dusty clouds arise,
-And the lost courser in the whirlwind flies;
-Loose on their shoulders the long manes reclined,
-Float in their speed, and dance upon the wind:
-The smoking chariots, rapid as they bound,
-Now seem to touch the sky, and now the ground.
-While hot for fame, and conquest all their care,
-(Each o’er his flying courser hung in air,)
-Erect with ardour, poised upon the rein,
-They pant, they stretch, they shout along the plain.
-Now (the last compass fetch’d around the goal)
-At the near prize each gathers all his soul,
-Each burns with double hope, with double pain,
-Tears up the shore, and thunders toward the main.
-First flew Eumelus on Pheretian steeds;
-With those of Tros bold Diomed succeeds:
-Close on Eumelus’ back they puff the wind,
-And seem just mounting on his car behind;
-Full on his neck he feels the sultry breeze,
-And, hovering o’er, their stretching shadows sees.
-Then had he lost, or left a doubtful prize;
-But angry Phœbus to Tydides flies,
-Strikes from his hand the scourge, and renders vain
-His matchless horses’ labour on the plain.
-Rage fills his eye with anguish, to survey
-Snatch’d from his hope the glories of the day.
-The fraud celestial Pallas sees with pain,
-Springs to her knight, and gives the scourge again,
-And fills his steeds with vigour. At a stroke
-She breaks his rival’s chariot from the yoke:
-No more their way the startled horses held;
-The car reversed came rattling on the field;
-Shot headlong from his seat, beside the wheel,
-Prone on the dust the unhappy master fell;
-His batter’d face and elbows strike the ground;
-Nose, mouth, and front, one undistinguish’d wound:
-Grief stops his voice, a torrent drowns his eyes:
-Before him far the glad Tydides flies;
-Minerva’s spirit drives his matchless pace,
-And crowns him victor of the labour’d race.
-
-The next, though distant, Menelaus succeeds;
-While thus young Nestor animates his steeds:
-“Now, now, my generous pair, exert your force;
-Not that we hope to match Tydides’ horse,
-Since great Minerva wings their rapid way,
-And gives their lord the honours of the day;
-But reach Atrides! shall his mare outgo
-Your swiftness? vanquish’d by a female foe?
-Through your neglect, if lagging on the plain
-The last ignoble gift be all we gain,
-No more shall Nestor’s hand your food supply,
-The old man’s fury rises, and ye die.
-Haste then: yon narrow road, before our sight,
-Presents the occasion, could we use it right.”
-
-Thus he. The coursers at their master’s threat
-With quicker steps the sounding champaign beat.
-And now Antilochus with nice survey
-Observes the compass of the hollow way.
-’Twas where, by force of wintry torrents torn,
-Fast by the road a precipice was worn:
-Here, where but one could pass, to shun the throng
-The Spartan hero’s chariot smoked along.
-Close up the venturous youth resolves to keep,
-Still edging near, and bears him toward the steep.
-Atrides, trembling, casts his eye below,
-And wonders at the rashness of his foe.
-“Hold, stay your steeds—What madness thus to ride
-This narrow way! take larger field (he cried),
-Or both must fall.”—Atrides cried in vain;
-He flies more fast, and throws up all the rein.
-Far as an able arm the disk can send,
-When youthful rivals their full force extend,
-So far, Antilochus! thy chariot flew
-Before the king: he, cautious, backward drew
-His horse compell’d; foreboding in his fears
-The rattling ruin of the clashing cars,
-The floundering coursers rolling on the plain,
-And conquest lost through frantic haste to gain.
-But thus upbraids his rival as he flies:
-“Go, furious youth! ungenerous and unwise!
-Go, but expect not I’ll the prize resign;
-Add perjury to fraud, and make it thine—”
-Then to his steeds with all his force he cries,
-“Be swift, be vigorous, and regain the prize!
-Your rivals, destitute of youthful force,
-With fainting knees shall labour in the course,
-And yield the glory yours.”—The steeds obey;
-Already at their heels they wing their way,
-And seem already to retrieve the day.
-
-Meantime the Grecians in a ring beheld
-The coursers bounding o’er the dusty field.
-The first who mark’d them was the Cretan king;
-High on a rising ground, above the ring,
-The monarch sat: from whence with sure survey
-He well observed the chief who led the way,
-And heard from far his animating cries,
-And saw the foremost steed with sharpen’d eyes;
-On whose broad front a blaze of shining white,
-Like the full moon, stood obvious to the sight.
-He saw; and rising, to the Greeks begun:
-“Are yonder horse discern’d by me alone?
-Or can ye, all, another chief survey,
-And other steeds than lately led the way?
-Those, though the swiftest, by some god withheld,
-Lie sure disabled in the middle field:
-For, since the goal they doubled, round the plain
-I search to find them, but I search in vain.
-Perchance the reins forsook the driver’s hand,
-And, turn’d too short, he tumbled on the strand,
-Shot from the chariot; while his coursers stray
-With frantic fury from the destined way.
-Rise then some other, and inform my sight,
-For these dim eyes, perhaps, discern not right;
-Yet sure he seems, to judge by shape and air,
-The great Ætolian chief, renown’d in war.”
-
-“Old man! (Oïleus rashly thus replies)
-Thy tongue too hastily confers the prize;
-Of those who view the course, nor sharpest eyed,
-Nor youngest, yet the readiest to decide.
-Eumelus’ steeds, high bounding in the chase,
-Still, as at first, unrivall’d lead the race:
-I well discern him, as he shakes the rein,
-And hear his shouts victorious o’er the plain.”
-
-Thus he. Idomeneus, incensed, rejoin’d:
-“Barbarous of words! and arrogant of mind!
-Contentious prince, of all the Greeks beside
-The last in merit, as the first in pride!
-To vile reproach what answer can we make?
-A goblet or a tripod let us stake,
-And be the king the judge. The most unwise
-Will learn their rashness, when they pay the price.”
-
-He said: and Ajax, by mad passion borne,
-Stern had replied; fierce scorn enhancing scorn
-To fell extremes. But Thetis’ godlike son
-Awful amidst them rose, and thus begun:
-
-“Forbear, ye chiefs! reproachful to contend;
-Much would ye blame, should others thus offend:
-And lo! the approaching steeds your contest end.”
-No sooner had he spoke, but thundering near,
-Drives, through a stream of dust, the charioteer.
-High o’er his head the circling lash he wields:
-His bounding horses scarcely touch the fields:
-His car amidst the dusty whirlwind roll’d,
-Bright with the mingled blaze of tin and gold,
-Refulgent through the cloud: no eye could find
-The track his flying wheels had left behind:
-And the fierce coursers urged their rapid pace
-So swift, it seem’d a flight, and not a race.
-Now victor at the goal Tydides stands,
-Quits his bright car, and springs upon the sands;
-From the hot steeds the sweaty torrents stream;
-The well-plied whip is hung athwart the beam:
-With joy brave Sthenelus receives the prize,
-The tripod-vase, and dame with radiant eyes:
-These to the ships his train triumphant leads,
-The chief himself unyokes the panting steeds.
-
-Young Nestor follows (who by art, not force,
-O’erpass’d Atrides) second in the course.
-Behind, Atrides urged the race, more near
-Than to the courser in his swift career
-The following car, just touching with his heel
-And brushing with his tail the whirling wheel:
-Such, and so narrow now the space between
-The rivals, late so distant on the green;
-So soon swift Æthe her lost ground regain’d,
-One length, one moment, had the race obtain’d.
-
-Merion pursued, at greater distance still,
-With tardier coursers, and inferior skill.
-Last came, Admetus! thy unhappy son;
-Slow dragged the steeds his batter’d chariot on:
-Achilles saw, and pitying thus begun:
-
-“Behold! the man whose matchless art surpass’d
-The sons of Greece! the ablest, yet the last!
-Fortune denies, but justice bids us pay
-(Since great Tydides bears the first away)
-To him the second honours of the day.”
-
-The Greeks consent with loud-applauding cries,
-And then Eumelus had received the prize,
-But youthful Nestor, jealous of his fame,
-The award opposes, and asserts his claim.
-“Think not (he cries) I tamely will resign,
-O Peleus’ son! the mare so justly mine.
-What if the gods, the skilful to confound,
-Have thrown the horse and horseman to the ground?
-Perhaps he sought not heaven by sacrifice,
-And vows omitted forfeited the prize.
-If yet (distinction to thy friend to show,
-And please a soul desirous to bestow)
-Some gift must grace Eumelus, view thy store
-Of beauteous handmaids, steeds, and shining ore;
-An ample present let him thence receive,
-And Greece shall praise thy generous thirst to give.
-But this my prize I never shall forego;
-This, who but touches, warriors! is my foe.”
-
-Thus spake the youth; nor did his words offend;
-Pleased with the well-turn’d flattery of a friend,
-Achilles smiled: “The gift proposed (he cried),
-Antilochus! we shall ourself provide.
-With plates of brass the corslet cover’d o’er,
-(The same renown’d Asteropaeus wore,)
-Whose glittering margins raised with silver shine,
-(No vulgar gift,) Eumelus! shall be thine.”
-
-He said: Automedon at his command
-The corslet brought, and gave it to his hand.
-Distinguish’d by his friend, his bosom glows
-With generous joy: then Menelaus rose;
-The herald placed the sceptre in his hands,
-And still’d the clamour of the shouting bands.
-Not without cause incensed at Nestor’s son,
-And inly grieving, thus the king begun:
-
-“The praise of wisdom, in thy youth obtain’d,
-An act so rash, Antilochus! has stain’d.
-Robb’d of my glory and my just reward,
-To you, O Grecians! be my wrong declared:
-So not a leader shall our conduct blame,
-Or judge me envious of a rival’s fame.
-But shall not we, ourselves, the truth maintain?
-What needs appealing in a fact so plain?
-What Greek shall blame me, if I bid thee rise,
-And vindicate by oath th’ ill-gotten prize?
-Rise if thou darest, before thy chariot stand,
-The driving scourge high-lifted in thy hand;
-And touch thy steeds, and swear thy whole intent
-Was but to conquer, not to circumvent.
-Swear by that god whose liquid arms surround
-The globe, and whose dread earthquakes heave the ground!”
-
-The prudent chief with calm attention heard;
-Then mildly thus: “Excuse, if youth have err’d;
-Superior as thou art, forgive the offence,
-Nor I thy equal, or in years, or sense.
-Thou know’st the errors of unripen’d age,
-Weak are its counsels, headlong is its rage.
-The prize I quit, if thou thy wrath resign;
-The mare, or aught thou ask’st, be freely thine
-Ere I become (from thy dear friendship torn)
-Hateful to thee, and to the gods forsworn.”
-
-So spoke Antilochus; and at the word
-The mare contested to the king restored.
-Joy swells his soul: as when the vernal grain
-Lifts the green ear above the springing plain,
-The fields their vegetable life renew,
-And laugh and glitter with the morning dew;
-Such joy the Spartan’s shining face o’erspread,
-And lifted his gay heart, while thus he said:
-
-“Still may our souls, O generous youth! agree
-’Tis now Atrides’ turn to yield to thee.
-Rash heat perhaps a moment might control,
-Not break, the settled temper of thy soul.
-Not but (my friend) ’tis still the wiser way
-To waive contention with superior sway;
-For ah! how few, who should like thee offend,
-Like thee, have talents to regain the friend!
-To plead indulgence, and thy fault atone,
-Suffice thy father’s merit and thy own:
-Generous alike, for me, the sire and son
-Have greatly suffer’d, and have greatly done.
-I yield; that all may know, my soul can bend,
-Nor is my pride preferr’d before my friend.”
-
-He said; and pleased his passion to command,
-Resign’d the courser to Noemon’s hand,
-Friend of the youthful chief: himself content,
-The shining charger to his vessel sent.
-The golden talents Merion next obtain’d;
-The fifth reward, the double bowl, remain’d.
-Achilles this to reverend Nestor bears.
-And thus the purpose of his gift declares:
-“Accept thou this, O sacred sire! (he said)
-In dear memorial of Patroclus dead;
-Dead and for ever lost Patroclus lies,
-For ever snatch’d from our desiring eyes!
-Take thou this token of a grateful heart,
-Though ’tis not thine to hurl the distant dart,
-The quoit to toss, the ponderous mace to wield,
-Or urge the race, or wrestle on the field:
-Thy pristine vigour age has overthrown,
-But left the glory of the past thy own.”
-
-He said, and placed the goblet at his side;
-With joy the venerable king replied:
-
-“Wisely and well, my son, thy words have proved
-A senior honour’d, and a friend beloved!
-Too true it is, deserted of my strength,
-These wither’d arms and limbs have fail’d at length.
-Oh! had I now that force I felt of yore,
-Known through Buprasium and the Pylian shore!
-Victorious then in every solemn game,
-Ordain’d to Amarynces’ mighty name;
-The brave Epeians gave my glory way,
-Ætolians, Pylians, all resign’d the day.
-I quell’d Clytomedes in fights of hand,
-And backward hurl’d Ancæus on the sand,
-Surpass’d Iphyclus in the swift career,
-Phyleus and Polydorus with the spear.
-The sons of Actor won the prize of horse,
-But won by numbers, not by art or force:
-For the famed twins, impatient to survey
-Prize after prize by Nestor borne away,
-Sprung to their car; and with united pains
-One lash’d the coursers, while one ruled the reins.
-Such once I was! Now to these tasks succeeds
-A younger race, that emulate our deeds:
-I yield, alas! (to age who must not yield?)
-Though once the foremost hero of the field.
-Go thou, my son! by generous friendship led,
-With martial honours decorate the dead:
-While pleased I take the gift thy hands present,
-(Pledge of benevolence, and kind intent,)
-Rejoiced, of all the numerous Greeks, to see
-Not one but honours sacred age and me:
-Those due distinctions thou so well canst pay,
-May the just gods return another day!”
-
-Proud of the gift, thus spake the full of days:
-Achilles heard him, prouder of the praise.
-
-The prizes next are order’d to the field,
-For the bold champions who the caestus wield.
-A stately mule, as yet by toils unbroke,
-Of six years’ age, unconscious of the yoke,
-Is to the circus led, and firmly bound;
-Next stands a goblet, massy, large, and round.
-Achilles rising, thus: “Let Greece excite
-Two heroes equal to this hardy fight;
-Who dare the foe with lifted arms provoke,
-And rush beneath the long-descending stroke.
-On whom Apollo shall the palm bestow,
-And whom the Greeks supreme by conquest know,
-This mule his dauntless labours shall repay,
-The vanquish’d bear the massy bowl away.”
-
-This dreadful combat great Epeüs chose;[291]
-High o’er the crowd, enormous bulk! he rose,
-And seized the beast, and thus began to say:
-“Stand forth some man, to bear the bowl away!
-(Price of his ruin: for who dares deny
-This mule my right; the undoubted victor I)
-Others, ’tis own’d, in fields of battle shine,
-But the first honours of this fight are mine;
-For who excels in all? Then let my foe
-Draw near, but first his certain fortune know;
-Secure this hand shall his whole frame confound,
-Mash all his bones, and all his body pound:
-So let his friends be nigh, a needful train,
-To heave the batter’d carcase off the plain.”
-
-The giant spoke; and in a stupid gaze
-The host beheld him, silent with amaze!
-’Twas thou, Euryalus! who durst aspire
-To meet his might, and emulate thy sire,
-The great Mecistheus; who in days of yore
-In Theban games the noblest trophy bore,
-(The games ordain’d dead OEdipus to grace,)
-And singly vanquish the Cadmean race.
-Him great Tydides urges to contend,
-Warm with the hopes of conquest for his friend;
-Officious with the cincture girds him round;
-And to his wrist the gloves of death are bound.
-Amid the circle now each champion stands,
-And poises high in air his iron hands;
-With clashing gauntlets now they fiercely close,
-Their crackling jaws re-echo to the blows,
-And painful sweat from all their members flows.
-At length Epeus dealt a weighty blow
-Full on the cheek of his unwary foe;
-Beneath that ponderous arm’s resistless sway
-Down dropp’d he, nerveless, and extended lay.
-As a large fish, when winds and waters roar,
-By some huge billow dash’d against the shore,
-Lies panting; not less batter’d with his wound,
-The bleeding hero pants upon the ground.
-To rear his fallen foe, the victor lends,
-Scornful, his hand; and gives him to his friends;
-Whose arms support him, reeling through the throng,
-And dragging his disabled legs along;
-Nodding, his head hangs down his shoulder o’er;
-His mouth and nostrils pour the clotted gore;[292]
-Wrapp’d round in mists he lies, and lost to thought;
-His friends receive the bowl, too dearly bought.
-
-The third bold game Achilles next demands,
-And calls the wrestlers to the level sands:
-A massy tripod for the victor lies,
-Of twice six oxen its reputed price;
-And next, the loser’s spirits to restore,
-A female captive, valued but at four.
-Scarce did the chief the vigorous strife propose
-When tower-like Ajax and Ulysses rose.
-Amid the ring each nervous rival stands,
-Embracing rigid with implicit hands.
-Close lock’d above, their heads and arms are mix’d:
-Below, their planted feet at distance fix’d;
-Like two strong rafters which the builder forms,
-Proof to the wintry winds and howling storms,
-Their tops connected, but at wider space
-Fix’d on the centre stands their solid base.
-Now to the grasp each manly body bends;
-The humid sweat from every pore descends;
-Their bones resound with blows: sides, shoulders, thighs
-Swell to each gripe, and bloody tumours rise.
-Nor could Ulysses, for his art renown’d,
-O’erturn the strength of Ajax on the ground;
-Nor could the strength of Ajax overthrow
-The watchful caution of his artful foe.
-While the long strife even tired the lookers on,
-Thus to Ulysses spoke great Telamon:
-“Or let me lift thee, chief, or lift thou me:
-Prove we our force, and Jove the rest decree.”
-
-He said; and, straining, heaved him off the ground
-With matchless strength; that time Ulysses found
-The strength to evade, and where the nerves combine
-His ankle struck: the giant fell supine;
-Ulysses, following, on his bosom lies;
-Shouts of applause run rattling through the skies.
-Ajax to lift Ulysses next essays;
-He barely stirr’d him, but he could not raise:
-His knee lock’d fast, the foe’s attempt denied;
-And grappling close, they tumbled side by side.
-Defiled with honourable dust they roll,
-Still breathing strife, and unsubdued of soul:
-Again they rage, again to combat rise;
-When great Achilles thus divides the prize:
-
-“Your noble vigour, O my friends, restrain;
-Nor weary out your generous strength in vain.
-Ye both have won: let others who excel,
-Now prove that prowess you have proved so well.”
-
-The hero’s words the willing chiefs obey,
-From their tired bodies wipe the dust away,
-And, clothed anew, the following games survey.
-
-And now succeed the gifts ordain’d to grace
-The youths contending in the rapid race:
-A silver urn that full six measures held,
-By none in weight or workmanship excell’d:
-Sidonian artists taught the frame to shine,
-Elaborate, with artifice divine;
-Whence Tyrian sailors did the prize transport,
-And gave to Thoas at the Lemnian port:
-From him descended, good Eunaeus heir’d
-The glorious gift; and, for Lycaon spared,
-To brave Patroclus gave the rich reward:
-Now, the same hero’s funeral rites to grace,
-It stands the prize of swiftness in the race.
-A well-fed ox was for the second placed;
-And half a talent must content the last.
-Achilles rising then bespoke the train:
-“Who hope the palm of swiftness to obtain,
-Stand forth, and bear these prizes from the plain.”
-
-The hero said, and starting from his place,
-Oilean Ajax rises to the race;
-Ulysses next; and he whose speed surpass’d
-His youthful equals, Nestor’s son, the last.
-Ranged in a line the ready racers stand;
-Pelides points the barrier with his hand;
-All start at once; Oïleus led the race;
-The next Ulysses, measuring pace with pace;
-Behind him, diligently close, he sped,
-As closely following as the running thread
-The spindle follows, and displays the charms
-Of the fair spinster’s breast and moving arms:
-Graceful in motion thus, his foe he plies,
-And treads each footstep ere the dust can rise;
-His glowing breath upon his shoulders plays:
-The admiring Greeks loud acclamations raise:
-To him they give their wishes, hearts, and eyes,
-And send their souls before him as he flies.
-Now three times turn’d in prospect of the goal,
-The panting chief to Pallas lifts his soul:
-“Assist, O goddess!” thus in thought he pray’d!
-And present at his thought descends the maid.
-Buoy’d by her heavenly force, he seems to swim,
-And feels a pinion lifting every limb.
-All fierce, and ready now the prize to gain,
-Unhappy Ajax stumbles on the plain
-(O’erturn’d by Pallas), where the slippery shore
-Was clogg’d with slimy dung and mingled gore.
-(The self-same place beside Patroclus’ pyre,
-Where late the slaughter’d victims fed the fire.)
-Besmear’d with filth, and blotted o’er with clay,
-Obscene to sight, the rueful racer lay;
-The well-fed bull (the second prize) he shared,
-And left the urn Ulysses’ rich reward.
-Then, grasping by the horn the mighty beast,
-The baffled hero thus the Greeks address’d:
-
-“Accursed fate! the conquest I forego;
-A mortal I, a goddess was my foe;
-She urged her favourite on the rapid way,
-And Pallas, not Ulysses, won the day.”
-
-Thus sourly wail’d he, sputtering dirt and gore;
-A burst of laughter echoed through the shore.
-Antilochus, more humorous than the rest,
-Takes the last prize, and takes it with a jest:
-
-“Why with our wiser elders should we strive?
-The gods still love them, and they always thrive.
-Ye see, to Ajax I must yield the prize:
-He to Ulysses, still more aged and wise;
-(A green old age unconscious of decays,
-That proves the hero born in better days!)
-Behold his vigour in this active race!
-Achilles only boasts a swifter pace:
-For who can match Achilles? He who can,
-Must yet be more than hero, more than man.”
-
-The effect succeeds the speech. Pelides cries,
-“Thy artful praise deserves a better prize.
-Nor Greece in vain shall hear thy friend extoll’d;
-Receive a talent of the purest gold.”
-The youth departs content. The host admire
-The son of Nestor, worthy of his sire.
-
-Next these a buckler, spear, and helm, he brings;
-Cast on the plain, the brazen burden rings:
-Arms which of late divine Sarpedon wore,
-And great Patroclus in short triumph bore.
-“Stand forth the bravest of our host! (he cries)
-Whoever dares deserve so rich a prize,
-Now grace the lists before our army’s sight,
-And sheathed in steel, provoke his foe to fight.
-Who first the jointed armour shall explore,
-And stain his rival’s mail with issuing gore,
-The sword Asteropaeus possess’d of old,
-(A Thracian blade, distinct with studs of gold,)
-Shall pay the stroke, and grace the striker’s side:
-These arms in common let the chiefs divide:
-For each brave champion, when the combat ends,
-A sumptuous banquet at our tents attends.”
-
-Fierce at the word uprose great Tydeus’ son,
-And the huge bulk of Ajax Telamon.
-Clad in refulgent steel, on either hand,
-The dreadful chiefs amid the circle stand;
-Louring they meet, tremendous to the sight;
-Each Argive bosom beats with fierce delight.
-Opposed in arms not long they idly stood,
-But thrice they closed, and thrice the charge renew’d.
-A furious pass the spear of Ajax made
-Through the broad shield, but at the corslet stay’d.
-Not thus the foe: his javelin aim’d above
-The buckler’s margin, at the neck he drove.
-But Greece, now trembling for her hero’s life,
-Bade share the honours, and surcease the strife.
-Yet still the victor’s due Tydides gains,
-With him the sword and studded belt remains.
-
-Then hurl’d the hero, thundering on the ground,
-A mass of iron (an enormous round),
-Whose weight and size the circling Greeks admire,
-Rude from the furnace, and but shaped by fire.
-This mighty quoit Aëtion wont to rear,
-And from his whirling arm dismiss in air;
-The giant by Achilles slain, he stow’d
-Among his spoils this memorable load.
-For this, he bids those nervous artists vie,
-That teach the disk to sound along the sky.
-“Let him, whose might can hurl this bowl, arise;
-Who farthest hurls it, take it as his prize;
-If he be one enrich’d with large domain
-Of downs for flocks, and arable for grain,
-Small stock of iron needs that man provide;
-His hinds and swains whole years shall be supplied
-From hence; nor ask the neighbouring city’s aid
-For ploughshares, wheels, and all the rural trade.”
-
-Stern Polypœtes stepp’d before the throng,
-And great Leonteus, more than mortal strong;
-Whose force with rival forces to oppose,
-Uprose great Ajax; up Epeus rose.
-Each stood in order: first Epeus threw;
-High o’er the wondering crowds the whirling circle flew.
-Leonteus next a little space surpass’d;
-And third, the strength of godlike Ajax cast.
-O’er both their marks it flew; till fiercely flung
-From Polypœtes’ arm the discus sung:
-Far as a swain his whirling sheephook throws,
-That distant falls among the grazing cows,
-So past them all the rapid circle flies:
-His friends, while loud applauses shake the skies,
-With force conjoin’d heave off the weighty prize.
-
-Those, who in skilful archery contend,
-He next invites the twanging bow to bend;
-And twice ten axes casts amidst the round,
-Ten double-edged, and ten that singly wound
-The mast, which late a first-rate galley bore,
-The hero fixes in the sandy shore;
-To the tall top a milk-white dove they tie,
-The trembling mark at which their arrows fly.
-
-“Whose weapon strikes yon fluttering bird, shall bear
-These two-edged axes, terrible in war;
-The single, he whose shaft divides the cord.”
-He said: experienced Merion took the word;
-And skilful Teucer: in the helm they threw
-Their lots inscribed, and forth the latter flew.
-Swift from the string the sounding arrow flies;
-But flies unbless’d! No grateful sacrifice,
-No firstling lambs, unheedful! didst thou vow
-To Phœbus, patron of the shaft and bow.
-For this, thy well-aim’d arrow turn’d aside,
-Err’d from the dove, yet cut the cord that tied:
-Adown the mainmast fell the parted string,
-And the free bird to heaven displays her wing:
-Sea, shores, and skies, with loud applause resound,
-And Merion eager meditates the wound:
-He takes the bow, directs the shaft above,
-And following with his eye the soaring dove,
-Implores the god to speed it through the skies,
-With vows of firstling lambs, and grateful sacrifice,
-The dove, in airy circles as she wheels,
-Amid the clouds the piercing arrow feels;
-Quite through and through the point its passage found,
-And at his feet fell bloody to the ground.
-The wounded bird, ere yet she breathed her last,
-With flagging wings alighted on the mast,
-A moment hung, and spread her pinions there,
-Then sudden dropp’d, and left her life in air.
-From the pleased crowd new peals of thunder rise,
-And to the ships brave Merion bears the prize.
-
-To close the funeral games, Achilles last
-A massy spear amid the circle placed,
-And ample charger of unsullied frame,
-With flowers high-wrought, not blacken’d yet by flame.
-For these he bids the heroes prove their art,
-Whose dexterous skill directs the flying dart.
-Here too great Merion hopes the noble prize;
-Nor here disdain’d the king of men to rise.
-With joy Pelides saw the honour paid,
-Rose to the monarch, and respectful said:
-
-“Thee first in virtue, as in power supreme,
-O king of nations! all thy Greeks proclaim;
-In every martial game thy worth attest,
-And know thee both their greatest and their best.
-Take then the prize, but let brave Merion bear
-This beamy javelin in thy brother’s war.”
-
-Pleased from the hero’s lips his praise to hear,
-The king to Merion gives the brazen spear:
-But, set apart for sacred use, commands
-The glittering charger to Talthybius’ hands.
-
-
-[Illustration: ] CERES
-
-
-
-
-BOOK XXIV.
-
-
-ARGUMENT.
-
-
-THE REDEMPTION OF THE BODY OF HECTOR.
-
-
-The gods deliberate about the redemption of Hector’s body. Jupiter
-sends Thetis to Achilles, to dispose him for the restoring it, and Iris
-to Priam, to encourage him to go in person and treat for it. The old
-king, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his queen, makes ready for
-the journey, to which he is encouraged by an omen from Jupiter. He sets
-forth in his chariot, with a waggon loaded with presents, under the
-charge of Idæus the herald. Mercury descends in the shape of a young
-man, and conducts him to the pavilion of Achilles. Their conversation
-on the way. Priam finds Achilles at his table, casts himself at his
-feet, and begs for the body of his son: Achilles, moved with
-compassion, grants his request, detains him one night in his tent, and
-the next morning sends him home with the body: the Trojans run out to
-meet him. The lamentations of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen, with the
-solemnities of the funeral.
-    The time of twelve days is employed in this book, while the body of
-    Hector lies in the tent of Achilles; and as many more are spent in
-    the truce allowed for his interment. The scene is partly in
-    Achilles’ camp, and partly in Troy.
-
-
-Now from the finish’d games the Grecian band
-Seek their black ships, and clear the crowded strand,
-All stretch’d at ease the genial banquet share,
-And pleasing slumbers quiet all their care.
-Not so Achilles: he, to grief resign’d,
-His friend’s dear image present to his mind,
-Takes his sad couch, more unobserved to weep;
-Nor tastes the gifts of all-composing sleep.
-Restless he roll’d around his weary bed,
-And all his soul on his Patroclus fed:
-The form so pleasing, and the heart so kind,
-That youthful vigour, and that manly mind,
-What toils they shared, what martial works they wrought,
-What seas they measured, and what fields they fought;
-All pass’d before him in remembrance dear,
-Thought follows thought, and tear succeeds to tear.
-And now supine, now prone, the hero lay,
-Now shifts his side, impatient for the day:
-Then starting up, disconsolate he goes
-Wide on the lonely beach to vent his woes.
-There as the solitary mourner raves,
-The ruddy morning rises o’er the waves:
-Soon as it rose, his furious steeds he join’d!
-The chariot flies, and Hector trails behind.
-And thrice, Patroclus! round thy monument
-Was Hector dragg’d, then hurried to the tent.
-There sleep at last o’ercomes the hero’s eyes;
-While foul in dust the unhonour’d carcase lies,
-But not deserted by the pitying skies:
-For Phœbus watch’d it with superior care,
-Preserved from gaping wounds and tainting air;
-And, ignominious as it swept the field,
-Spread o’er the sacred corse his golden shield.
-All heaven was moved, and Hermes will’d to go
-By stealth to snatch him from the insulting foe:
-But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies,
-And th’ unrelenting empress of the skies,
-E’er since that day implacable to Troy,
-What time young Paris, simple shepherd boy,
-Won by destructive lust (reward obscene),
-Their charms rejected for the Cyprian queen.
-But when the tenth celestial morning broke,
-To heaven assembled, thus Apollo spoke:
-
-
-[Illustration: ] HECTOR’S BODY AT THE CAR OF ACHILLES
-
-
-“Unpitying powers! how oft each holy fane
-Has Hector tinged with blood of victims slain?
-And can ye still his cold remains pursue?
-Still grudge his body to the Trojans’ view?
-Deny to consort, mother, son, and sire,
-The last sad honours of a funeral fire?
-Is then the dire Achilles all your care?
-That iron heart, inflexibly severe;
-A lion, not a man, who slaughters wide,
-In strength of rage, and impotence of pride;
-Who hastes to murder with a savage joy,
-Invades around, and breathes but to destroy!
-Shame is not of his soul; nor understood,
-The greatest evil and the greatest good.
-Still for one loss he rages unresign’d,
-Repugnant to the lot of all mankind;
-To lose a friend, a brother, or a son,
-Heaven dooms each mortal, and its will is done:
-Awhile they sorrow, then dismiss their care;
-Fate gives the wound, and man is born to bear.
-But this insatiate, the commission given
-By fate exceeds, and tempts the wrath of heaven:
-Lo, how his rage dishonest drags along
-Hector’s dead earth, insensible of wrong!
-Brave though he be, yet by no reason awed,
-He violates the laws of man and god.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS
-
-
-“If equal honours by the partial skies
-Are doom’d both heroes, (Juno thus replies,)
-If Thetis’ son must no distinction know,
-Then hear, ye gods! the patron of the bow.
-But Hector only boasts a mortal claim,
-His birth deriving from a mortal dame:
-Achilles, of your own ethereal race,
-Springs from a goddess by a man’s embrace
-(A goddess by ourself to Peleus given,
-A man divine, and chosen friend of heaven)
-To grace those nuptials, from the bright abode
-Yourselves were present; where this minstrel-god,
-Well pleased to share the feast, amid the quire
-Stood proud to hymn, and tune his youthful lyre.”
-
-Then thus the Thunderer checks the imperial dame:
-“Let not thy wrath the court of heaven inflame;
-Their merits, nor their honours, are the same.
-But mine, and every god’s peculiar grace
-Hector deserves, of all the Trojan race:
-Still on our shrines his grateful offerings lay,
-(The only honours men to gods can pay,)
-Nor ever from our smoking altar ceased
-The pure libation, and the holy feast:
-Howe’er by stealth to snatch the corse away,
-We will not: Thetis guards it night and day.
-But haste, and summon to our courts above
-The azure queen; let her persuasion move
-Her furious son from Priam to receive
-The proffer’d ransom, and the corse to leave.”
-
-He added not: and Iris from the skies,
-Swift as a whirlwind, on the message flies,
-Meteorous the face of ocean sweeps,
-Refulgent gliding o’er the sable deeps.
-Between where Samos wide his forests spreads,
-And rocky Imbrus lifts its pointed heads,
-Down plunged the maid; (the parted waves resound;)
-She plunged and instant shot the dark profound.
-As bearing death in the fallacious bait,
-From the bent angle sinks the leaden weight;
-So pass’d the goddess through the closing wave,
-Where Thetis sorrow’d in her secret cave:
-There placed amidst her melancholy train
-(The blue-hair’d sisters of the sacred main)
-Pensive she sat, revolving fates to come,
-And wept her godlike son’s approaching doom.
-Then thus the goddess of the painted bow:
-“Arise, O Thetis! from thy seats below,
-’Tis Jove that calls.”—“And why (the dame replies)
-Calls Jove his Thetis to the hated skies?
-Sad object as I am for heavenly sight!
-Ah may my sorrows ever shun the light!
-Howe’er, be heaven’s almighty sire obey’d—”
-She spake, and veil’d her head in sable shade,
-Which, flowing long, her graceful person clad;
-And forth she paced, majestically sad.
-
-Then through the world of waters they repair
-(The way fair Iris led) to upper air.
-The deeps dividing, o’er the coast they rise,
-And touch with momentary flight the skies.
-There in the lightning’s blaze the sire they found,
-And all the gods in shining synod round.
-Thetis approach’d with anguish in her face,
-(Minerva rising, gave the mourner place,)
-Even Juno sought her sorrows to console,
-And offer’d from her hand the nectar-bowl:
-She tasted, and resign’d it: then began
-The sacred sire of gods and mortal man:
-
-“Thou comest, fair Thetis, but with grief o’ercast;
-Maternal sorrows; long, ah, long to last!
-Suffice, we know and we partake thy cares;
-But yield to fate, and hear what Jove declares.
-Nine days are past since all the court above
-In Hector’s cause have moved the ear of Jove;
-’Twas voted, Hermes from his godlike foe
-By stealth should bear him, but we will’d not so:
-We will, thy son himself the corse restore,
-And to his conquest add this glory more.
-Then hie thee to him, and our mandate bear:
-Tell him he tempts the wrath of heaven too far;
-Nor let him more (our anger if he dread)
-Vent his mad vengeance on the sacred dead;
-But yield to ransom and the father’s prayer;
-The mournful father, Iris shall prepare
-With gifts to sue; and offer to his hands
-Whate’er his honour asks, or heart demands.”
-
-His word the silver-footed queen attends,
-And from Olympus’ snowy tops descends.
-Arrived, she heard the voice of loud lament,
-And echoing groans that shook the lofty tent:
-His friends prepare the victim, and dispose
-Repast unheeded, while he vents his woes;
-The goddess seats her by her pensive son,
-She press’d his hand, and tender thus begun:
-
-“How long, unhappy! shall thy sorrows flow,
-And thy heart waste with life-consuming woe:
-Mindless of food, or love, whose pleasing reign
-Soothes weary life, and softens human pain?
-O snatch the moments yet within thy power;
-Not long to live, indulge the amorous hour!
-Lo! Jove himself (for Jove’s command I bear)
-Forbids to tempt the wrath of heaven too far.
-No longer then (his fury if thou dread)
-Detain the relics of great Hector dead;
-Nor vent on senseless earth thy vengeance vain,
-But yield to ransom, and restore the slain.”
-
-To whom Achilles: “Be the ransom given,
-And we submit, since such the will of heaven.”
-
-While thus they communed, from the Olympian bowers
-Jove orders Iris to the Trojan towers:
-“Haste, winged goddess! to the sacred town,
-And urge her monarch to redeem his son.
-Alone the Ilian ramparts let him leave,
-And bear what stern Achilles may receive:
-Alone, for so we will; no Trojan near
-Except, to place the dead with decent care,
-Some aged herald, who with gentle hand
-May the slow mules and funeral car command.
-Nor let him death, nor let him danger dread,
-Safe through the foe by our protection led:
-Him Hermes to Achilles shall convey,
-Guard of his life, and partner of his way.
-Fierce as he is, Achilles’ self shall spare
-His age, nor touch one venerable hair:
-Some thought there must be in a soul so brave,
-Some sense of duty, some desire to save.”
-
-
-[Illustration: ] IRIS ADVISES PRIAM TO OBTAIN THE BODY OF HECTOR
-
-
-Then down her bow the winged Iris drives,
-And swift at Priam’s mournful court arrives:
-Where the sad sons beside their father’s throne
-Sat bathed in tears, and answer’d groan with groan.
-And all amidst them lay the hoary sire,
-(Sad scene of woe!) his face his wrapp’d attire
-Conceal’d from sight; with frantic hands he spread
-A shower of ashes o’er his neck and head.
-From room to room his pensive daughters roam;
-Whose shrieks and clamours fill the vaulted dome;
-Mindful of those, who late their pride and joy,
-Lie pale and breathless round the fields of Troy!
-Before the king Jove’s messenger appears,
-And thus in whispers greets his trembling ears:
-
-“Fear not, O father! no ill news I bear;
-From Jove I come, Jove makes thee still his care;
-For Hector’s sake these walls he bids thee leave,
-And bear what stern Achilles may receive;
-Alone, for so he wills; no Trojan near,
-Except, to place the dead with decent care,
-Some aged herald, who with gentle hand
-May the slow mules and funeral car command.
-Nor shalt thou death, nor shalt thou danger dread:
-Safe through the foe by his protection led:
-Thee Hermes to Pelides shall convey,
-Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way.
-Fierce as he is, Achilles’ self shall spare
-Thy age, nor touch one venerable hair;
-Some thought there must be in a soul so brave,
-Some sense of duty, some desire to save.”
-
-She spoke, and vanish’d. Priam bids prepare
-His gentle mules and harness to the car;
-There, for the gifts, a polish’d casket lay:
-His pious sons the king’s command obey.
-Then pass’d the monarch to his bridal-room,
-Where cedar-beams the lofty roofs perfume,
-And where the treasures of his empire lay;
-Then call’d his queen, and thus began to say:
-
-“Unhappy consort of a king distress’d!
-Partake the troubles of thy husband’s breast:
-I saw descend the messenger of Jove,
-Who bids me try Achilles’ mind to move;
-Forsake these ramparts, and with gifts obtain
-The corse of Hector, at yon navy slain.
-Tell me thy thought: my heart impels to go
-Through hostile camps, and bears me to the foe.”
-
-The hoary monarch thus. Her piercing cries
-Sad Hecuba renews, and then replies:
-“Ah! whither wanders thy distemper’d mind?
-And where the prudence now that awed mankind?
-Through Phrygia once and foreign regions known;
-Now all confused, distracted, overthrown!
-Singly to pass through hosts of foes! to face
-(O heart of steel!) the murderer of thy race!
-To view that deathful eye, and wander o’er
-Those hands yet red with Hector’s noble gore!
-Alas! my lord! he knows not how to spare,
-And what his mercy, thy slain sons declare;
-So brave! so many fallen! To claim his rage
-Vain were thy dignity, and vain thy age.
-No—pent in this sad palace, let us give
-To grief the wretched days we have to live.
-Still, still for Hector let our sorrows flow,
-Born to his own, and to his parents’ woe!
-Doom’d from the hour his luckless life begun,
-To dogs, to vultures, and to Peleus’ son!
-Oh! in his dearest blood might I allay
-My rage, and these barbarities repay!
-For ah! could Hector merit thus, whose breath
-Expired not meanly, in unactive death?
-He poured his latest blood in manly fight,
-And fell a hero in his country’s right.”
-
-“Seek not to stay me, nor my soul affright
-With words of omen, like a bird of night,
-(Replied unmoved the venerable man;)
-’Tis heaven commands me, and you urge in vain.
-Had any mortal voice the injunction laid,
-Nor augur, priest, nor seer, had been obey’d.
-A present goddess brought the high command,
-I saw, I heard her, and the word shall stand.
-I go, ye gods! obedient to your call:
-If in yon camp your powers have doom’d my fall,
-Content—By the same hand let me expire!
-Add to the slaughter’d son the wretched sire!
-One cold embrace at least may be allow’d,
-And my last tears flow mingled with his blood!”
-
-From forth his open’d stores, this said, he drew
-Twelve costly carpets of refulgent hue,
-As many vests, as many mantles told,
-And twelve fair veils, and garments stiff with gold,
-Two tripods next, and twice two chargers shine,
-With ten pure talents from the richest mine;
-And last a large well-labour’d bowl had place,
-(The pledge of treaties once with friendly Thrace:)
-Seem’d all too mean the stores he could employ,
-For one last look to buy him back to Troy!
-
-Lo! the sad father, frantic with his pain,
-Around him furious drives his menial train:
-In vain each slave with duteous care attends,
-Each office hurts him, and each face offends.
-“What make ye here, officious crowds! (he cries):
-Hence! nor obtrude your anguish on my eyes.
-Have ye no griefs at home, to fix ye there:
-Am I the only object of despair?
-Am I become my people’s common show,
-Set up by Jove your spectacle of woe?
-No, you must feel him too; yourselves must fall;
-The same stern god to ruin gives you all:
-Nor is great Hector lost by me alone;
-Your sole defence, your guardian power is gone!
-I see your blood the fields of Phrygia drown,
-I see the ruins of your smoking town!
-O send me, gods! ere that sad day shall come,
-A willing ghost to Pluto’s dreary dome!”
-
-He said, and feebly drives his friends away:
-The sorrowing friends his frantic rage obey.
-Next on his sons his erring fury falls,
-Polites, Paris, Agathon, he calls;
-His threats Deiphobus and Dius hear,
-Hippothous, Pammon, Helenes the seer,
-And generous Antiphon: for yet these nine
-Survived, sad relics of his numerous line.
-
-“Inglorious sons of an unhappy sire!
-Why did not all in Hector’s cause expire?
-Wretch that I am! my bravest offspring slain.
-You, the disgrace of Priam’s house, remain!
-Mestor the brave, renown’d in ranks of war,
-With Troilus, dreadful on his rushing car,[293]
-And last great Hector, more than man divine,
-For sure he seem’d not of terrestrial line!
-All those relentless Mars untimely slew,
-And left me these, a soft and servile crew,
-Whose days the feast and wanton dance employ,
-Gluttons and flatterers, the contempt of Troy!
-Why teach ye not my rapid wheels to run,
-And speed my journey to redeem my son?”
-
-The sons their father’s wretched age revere,
-Forgive his anger, and produce the car.
-High on the seat the cabinet they bind:
-The new-made car with solid beauty shined;
-Box was the yoke, emboss’d with costly pains,
-And hung with ringlets to receive the reins;
-Nine cubits long, the traces swept the ground:
-These to the chariot’s polish’d pole they bound.
-Then fix’d a ring the running reins to guide,
-And close beneath the gather’d ends were tied.
-Next with the gifts (the price of Hector slain)
-The sad attendants load the groaning wain:
-Last to the yoke the well-matched mules they bring,
-(The gift of Mysia to the Trojan king.)
-But the fair horses, long his darling care,
-Himself received, and harness’d to his car:
-Grieved as he was, he not this task denied;
-The hoary herald help’d him, at his side.
-While careful these the gentle coursers join’d,
-Sad Hecuba approach’d with anxious mind;
-A golden bowl that foam’d with fragrant wine,
-(Libation destined to the power divine,)
-Held in her right, before the steed she stands,
-And thus consigns it to the monarch’s hands:
-
-“Take this, and pour to Jove; that safe from harms
-His grace restore thee to our roof and arms.
-Since victor of thy fears, and slighting mine,
-Heaven, or thy soul, inspires this bold design;
-Pray to that god, who high on Ida’s brow
-Surveys thy desolated realms below,
-His winged messenger to send from high,
-And lead thy way with heavenly augury:
-Let the strong sovereign of the plumy race
-Tower on the right of yon ethereal space.
-That sign beheld, and strengthen’d from above,
-Boldly pursue the journey mark’d by Jove:
-But if the god his augury denies,
-Suppress thy impulse, nor reject advice.”
-
-“’Tis just (said Priam) to the sire above
-To raise our hands; for who so good as Jove?”
-He spoke, and bade the attendant handmaid bring
-The purest water of the living spring:
-(Her ready hands the ewer and bason held:)
-Then took the golden cup his queen had fill’d;
-On the mid pavement pours the rosy wine,
-Uplifts his eyes, and calls the power divine:
-
-“O first and greatest! heaven’s imperial lord!
-On lofty Ida’s holy hill adored!
-To stern Achilles now direct my ways,
-And teach him mercy when a father prays.
-If such thy will, despatch from yonder sky
-Thy sacred bird, celestial augury!
-Let the strong sovereign of the plumy race
-Tower on the right of yon ethereal space;
-So shall thy suppliant, strengthen’d from above,
-Fearless pursue the journey mark’d by Jove.”
-
-Jove heard his prayer, and from the throne on high,
-Despatch’d his bird, celestial augury!
-The swift-wing’d chaser of the feather’d game,
-And known to gods by Percnos’ lofty name.
-Wide as appears some palace-gate display’d,
-So broad, his pinions stretch’d their ample shade,
-As stooping dexter with resounding wings
-The imperial bird descends in airy rings.
-A dawn of joy in every face appears:
-The mourning matron dries her timorous tears:
-Swift on his car the impatient monarch sprung;
-The brazen portal in his passage rung;
-The mules preceding draw the loaded wain,
-Charged with the gifts: Idæus holds the rein:
-The king himself his gentle steeds controls,
-And through surrounding friends the chariot rolls.
-On his slow wheels the following people wait,
-Mourn at each step, and give him up to fate;
-With hands uplifted eye him as he pass’d,
-And gaze upon him as they gazed their last.
-Now forward fares the father on his way,
-Through the lone fields, and back to Ilion they.
-Great Jove beheld him as he cross’d the plain,
-And felt the woes of miserable man.
-Then thus to Hermes: “Thou whose constant cares
-Still succour mortals, and attend their prayers;
-Behold an object to thy charge consign’d:
-If ever pity touch’d thee for mankind,
-Go, guard the sire: the observing foe prevent,
-And safe conduct him to Achilles’ tent.”
-
-The god obeys, his golden pinions binds,[294]
-And mounts incumbent on the wings of winds,
-That high, through fields of air, his flight sustain,
-O’er the wide earth, and o’er the boundless main;
-Then grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly,
-Or in soft slumbers seals the wakeful eye:
-Thus arm’d, swift Hermes steers his airy way,
-And stoops on Hellespont’s resounding sea.
-A beauteous youth, majestic and divine,
-He seem’d; fair offspring of some princely line!
-Now twilight veil’d the glaring face of day,
-And clad the dusky fields in sober grey;
-What time the herald and the hoary king
-(Their chariots stopping at the silver spring,
-That circling Ilus’ ancient marble flows)
-Allow’d their mules and steeds a short repose,
-Through the dim shade the herald first espies
-A man’s approach, and thus to Priam cries:
-“I mark some foe’s advance: O king! beware;
-This hard adventure claims thy utmost care!
-For much I fear destruction hovers nigh:
-Our state asks counsel; is it best to fly?
-Or old and helpless, at his feet to fall,
-Two wretched suppliants, and for mercy call?”
-
-The afflicted monarch shiver’d with despair;
-Pale grew his face, and upright stood his hair;
-Sunk was his heart; his colour went and came;
-A sudden trembling shook his aged frame:
-When Hermes, greeting, touch’d his royal hand,
-And, gentle, thus accosts with kind demand:
-
-“Say whither, father! when each mortal sight
-Is seal’d in sleep, thou wanderest through the night?
-Why roam thy mules and steeds the plains along,
-Through Grecian foes, so numerous and so strong?
-What couldst thou hope, should these thy treasures view;
-These, who with endless hate thy race pursue?
-For what defence, alas! could’st thou provide;
-Thyself not young, a weak old man thy guide?
-Yet suffer not thy soul to sink with dread;
-From me no harm shall touch thy reverend head;
-From Greece I’ll guard thee too; for in those lines
-The living image of my father shines.”
-
-“Thy words, that speak benevolence of mind,
-Are true, my son! (the godlike sire rejoin’d:)
-Great are my hazards; but the gods survey
-My steps, and send thee, guardian of my way.
-Hail, and be bless’d! For scarce of mortal kind
-Appear thy form, thy feature, and thy mind.”
-
-“Nor true are all thy words, nor erring wide;
-(The sacred messenger of heaven replied;)
-But say, convey’st thou through the lonely plains
-What yet most precious of thy store remains,
-To lodge in safety with some friendly hand:
-Prepared, perchance, to leave thy native land?
-Or fliest thou now?—What hopes can Troy retain,
-Thy matchless son, her guard and glory, slain?”
-
-The king, alarm’d: “Say what, and whence thou art
-Who search the sorrows of a parent’s heart,
-And know so well how godlike Hector died?”
-Thus Priam spoke, and Hermes thus replied:
-
-“You tempt me, father, and with pity touch:
-On this sad subject you inquire too much.
-Oft have these eyes that godlike Hector view’d
-In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrued:
-I saw him when, like Jove, his flames he toss’d
-On thousand ships, and wither’d half a host:
-I saw, but help’d not: stern Achilles’ ire
-Forbade assistance, and enjoy’d the fire.
-For him I serve, of Myrmidonian race;
-One ship convey’d us from our native place;
-Polyctor is my sire, an honour’d name,
-Old like thyself, and not unknown to fame;
-Of seven his sons, by whom the lot was cast
-To serve our prince, it fell on me, the last.
-To watch this quarter, my adventure falls:
-For with the morn the Greeks attack your walls;
-Sleepless they sit, impatient to engage,
-And scarce their rulers check their martial rage.”
-
-“If then thou art of stern Pelides’ train,
-(The mournful monarch thus rejoin’d again,)
-Ah tell me truly, where, oh! where are laid
-My son’s dear relics? what befalls him dead?
-Have dogs dismember’d (on the naked plains),
-Or yet unmangled rest, his cold remains?”
-
-“O favour’d of the skies! (thus answered then
-The power that mediates between god and men)
-Nor dogs nor vultures have thy Hector rent,
-But whole he lies, neglected in the tent:
-This the twelfth evening since he rested there,
-Untouch’d by worms, untainted by the air.
-Still as Aurora’s ruddy beam is spread,
-Round his friend’s tomb Achilles drags the dead:
-Yet undisfigured, or in limb or face,
-All fresh he lies, with every living grace,
-Majestical in death! No stains are found
-O’er all the corse, and closed is every wound,
-Though many a wound they gave. Some heavenly care,
-Some hand divine, preserves him ever fair:
-Or all the host of heaven, to whom he led
-A life so grateful, still regard him dead.”
-
-Thus spoke to Priam the celestial guide,
-And joyful thus the royal sire replied:
-“Blest is the man who pays the gods above
-The constant tribute of respect and love!
-Those who inhabit the Olympian bower
-My son forgot not, in exalted power;
-And heaven, that every virtue bears in mind,
-Even to the ashes of the just is kind.
-But thou, O generous youth! this goblet take,
-A pledge of gratitude for Hector’s sake;
-And while the favouring gods our steps survey,
-Safe to Pelides’ tent conduct my way.”
-
-To whom the latent god: “O king, forbear
-To tempt my youth, for apt is youth to err.
-But can I, absent from my prince’s sight,
-Take gifts in secret, that must shun the light?
-What from our master’s interest thus we draw,
-Is but a licensed theft that ’scapes the law.
-Respecting him, my soul abjures the offence;
-And as the crime, I dread the consequence.
-Thee, far as Argos, pleased I could convey;
-Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way:
-On thee attend, thy safety to maintain,
-O’er pathless forests, or the roaring main.”
-
-He said, then took the chariot at a bound,
-And snatch’d the reins, and whirl’d the lash around:
-Before the inspiring god that urged them on,
-The coursers fly with spirit not their own.
-And now they reach’d the naval walls, and found
-The guards repasting, while the bowls go round;
-On these the virtue of his wand he tries,
-And pours deep slumber on their watchful eyes:
-Then heaved the massy gates, removed the bars,
-And o’er the trenches led the rolling cars.
-Unseen, through all the hostile camp they went,
-And now approach’d Pelides’ lofty tent.
-On firs the roof was raised, and cover’d o’er
-With reeds collected from the marshy shore;
-And, fenced with palisades, a hall of state,
-(The work of soldiers,) where the hero sat:
-Large was the door, whose well-compacted strength
-A solid pine-tree barr’d of wondrous length:
-Scarce three strong Greeks could lift its mighty weight,
-But great Achilles singly closed the gate.
-This Hermes (such the power of gods) set wide;
-Then swift alighted the celestial guide,
-And thus reveal’d—”Hear, prince! and understand
-Thou ow’st thy guidance to no mortal hand:
-Hermes I am, descended from above,
-The king of arts, the messenger of Jove,
-Farewell: to shun Achilles’ sight I fly;
-Uncommon are such favours of the sky,
-Nor stand confess’d to frail mortality.
-Now fearless enter, and prefer thy prayers;
-Adjure him by his father’s silver hairs,
-His son, his mother! urge him to bestow
-Whatever pity that stern heart can know.”
-
-Thus having said, he vanish’d from his eyes,
-And in a moment shot into the skies:
-The king, confirm’d from heaven, alighted there,
-And left his aged herald on the car,
-With solemn pace through various rooms he went,
-And found Achilles in his inner tent:
-There sat the hero: Alcimus the brave,
-And great Automedon, attendance gave:
-These served his person at the royal feast;
-Around, at awful distance, stood the rest.
-
-Unseen by these, the king his entry made:
-And, prostrate now before Achilles laid,
-Sudden (a venerable sight!) appears;
-Embraced his knees, and bathed his hands in tears;
-Those direful hands his kisses press’d, embrued
-Even with the best, the dearest of his blood!
-
-As when a wretch (who, conscious of his crime,
-Pursued for murder, flies his native clime)
-Just gains some frontier, breathless, pale, amazed,
-All gaze, all wonder: thus Achilles gazed:
-Thus stood the attendants stupid with surprise:
-All mute, yet seem’d to question with their eyes:
-Each look’d on other, none the silence broke,
-Till thus at last the kingly suppliant spoke:
-
-“Ah think, thou favour’d of the powers divine![295]
-Think of thy father’s age, and pity mine!
-In me that father’s reverend image trace,
-Those silver hairs, that venerable face;
-His trembling limbs, his helpless person, see!
-In all my equal, but in misery!
-Yet now, perhaps, some turn of human fate
-Expels him helpless from his peaceful state;
-Think, from some powerful foe thou seest him fly,
-And beg protection with a feeble cry.
-Yet still one comfort in his soul may rise;
-He hears his son still lives to glad his eyes,
-And, hearing, still may hope a better day
-May send him thee, to chase that foe away.
-No comfort to my griefs, no hopes remain,
-The best, the bravest, of my sons are slain!
-Yet what a race! ere Greece to Ilion came,
-The pledge of many a loved and loving dame:
-Nineteen one mother bore—Dead, all are dead!
-How oft, alas! has wretched Priam bled!
-Still one was left their loss to recompense;
-His father’s hope, his country’s last defence.
-Him too thy rage has slain! beneath thy steel,
-Unhappy in his country’s cause he fell!
-
-“For him through hostile camps I bent my way,
-For him thus prostrate at thy feet I lay;
-Large gifts proportion’d to thy wrath I bear;
-O hear the wretched, and the gods revere!
-
-“Think of thy father, and this face behold!
-See him in me, as helpless and as old!
-Though not so wretched: there he yields to me,
-The first of men in sovereign misery!
-Thus forced to kneel, thus grovelling to embrace
-The scourge and ruin of my realm and race;
-Suppliant my children’s murderer to implore,
-And kiss those hands yet reeking with their gore!”
-
-These words soft pity in the chief inspire,
-Touch’d with the dear remembrance of his sire.
-Then with his hand (as prostrate still he lay)
-The old man’s cheek he gently turn’d away.
-Now each by turns indulged the gush of woe;
-And now the mingled tides together flow:
-This low on earth, that gently bending o’er;
-A father one, and one a son deplore:
-But great Achilles different passions rend,
-And now his sire he mourns, and now his friend.
-The infectious softness through the heroes ran;
-One universal solemn shower began;
-They bore as heroes, but they felt as man.
-
-Satiate at length with unavailing woes,
-From the high throne divine Achilles rose;
-The reverend monarch by the hand he raised;
-On his white beard and form majestic gazed,
-Not unrelenting; then serene began
-With words to soothe the miserable man:
-
-“Alas, what weight of anguish hast thou known,
-Unhappy prince! thus guardless and alone
-To pass through foes, and thus undaunted face
-The man whose fury has destroy’d thy race!
-Heaven sure has arm’d thee with a heart of steel,
-A strength proportion’d to the woes you feel.
-Rise, then: let reason mitigate your care:
-To mourn avails not: man is born to bear.
-Such is, alas! the gods’ severe decree:
-They, only they are blest, and only free.
-Two urns by Jove’s high throne have ever stood,
-The source of evil one, and one of good;
-From thence the cup of mortal man he fills,
-Blessings to these, to those distributes ill;
-To most he mingles both: the wretch decreed
-To taste the bad unmix’d, is cursed indeed;
-Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven,
-He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven.
-The happiest taste not happiness sincere;
-But find the cordial draught is dash’d with care.
-Who more than Peleus shone in wealth and power
-What stars concurring bless’d his natal hour!
-A realm, a goddess, to his wishes given;
-Graced by the gods with all the gifts of heaven.
-One evil yet o’ertakes his latest day:
-No race succeeding to imperial sway;
-An only son; and he, alas! ordain’d
-To fall untimely in a foreign land.
-See him, in Troy, the pious care decline
-Of his weak age, to live the curse of thine!
-Thou too, old man, hast happier days beheld;
-In riches once, in children once excell’d;
-Extended Phrygia own’d thy ample reign,
-And all fair Lesbos’ blissful seats contain,
-And all wide Hellespont’s unmeasured main.
-But since the god his hand has pleased to turn,
-And fill thy measure from his bitter urn,
-What sees the sun, but hapless heroes’ falls?
-War, and the blood of men, surround thy walls!
-What must be, must be. Bear thy lot, nor shed
-These unavailing sorrows o’er the dead;
-Thou canst not call him from the Stygian shore,
-But thou, alas! may’st live to suffer more!”
-
-To whom the king: “O favour’d of the skies!
-Here let me grow to earth! since Hector lies
-On the bare beach deprived of obsequies.
-O give me Hector! to my eyes restore
-His corse, and take the gifts: I ask no more.
-Thou, as thou may’st, these boundless stores enjoy;
-Safe may’st thou sail, and turn thy wrath from Troy;
-So shall thy pity and forbearance give
-A weak old man to see the light and live!”
-
-“Move me no more, (Achilles thus replies,
-While kindling anger sparkled in his eyes,)
-Nor seek by tears my steady soul to bend:
-To yield thy Hector I myself intend:
-For know, from Jove my goddess-mother came,
-(Old Ocean’s daughter, silver-footed dame,)
-Nor comest thou but by heaven; nor comest alone,
-Some god impels with courage not thy own:
-No human hand the weighty gates unbarr’d,
-Nor could the boldest of our youth have dared
-To pass our outworks, or elude the guard.
-Cease; lest, neglectful of high Jove’s command,
-I show thee, king! thou tread’st on hostile land;
-Release my knees, thy suppliant arts give o’er,
-And shake the purpose of my soul no more.”
-
-The sire obey’d him, trembling and o’eraw’d.
-Achilles, like a lion, rush’d abroad:
-Automedon and Alcimus attend,
-(Whom most he honour’d, since he lost his friend,)
-These to unyoke the mules and horses went,
-And led the hoary herald to the tent;
-Next, heap’d on high, the numerous presents bear,
-(Great Hector’s ransom,) from the polish’d car.
-Two splendid mantles, and a carpet spread,
-They leave: to cover and enwrap the dead.
-Then call the handmaids, with assistant toil
-To wash the body and anoint with oil,
-Apart from Priam: lest the unhappy sire,
-Provoked to passion, once more rouse to ire
-The stern Pelides; and nor sacred age,
-Nor Jove’s command, should check the rising rage.
-This done, the garments o’er the corse they spread;
-Achilles lifts it to the funeral bed:
-Then, while the body on the car they laid,
-He groans, and calls on loved Patroclus’ shade:
-
-“If, in that gloom which never light must know,
-The deeds of mortals touch the ghosts below,
-O friend! forgive me, that I thus fulfil
-(Restoring Hector) heaven’s unquestion’d will.
-The gifts the father gave, be ever thine,
-To grace thy manes, and adorn thy shrine.”[296]
-
-He said, and, entering, took his seat of state;
-Where full before him reverend Priam sate;
-To whom, composed, the godlike chief begun:
-“Lo! to thy prayer restored, thy breathless son;
-Extended on the funeral couch he lies;
-And soon as morning paints the eastern skies,
-The sight is granted to thy longing eyes:
-But now the peaceful hours of sacred night
-Demand reflection, and to rest invite:
-Nor thou, O father! thus consumed with woe,
-The common cares that nourish life forego.
-Not thus did Niobe, of form divine,
-A parent once, whose sorrows equall’d thine:
-Six youthful sons, as many blooming maids,
-In one sad day beheld the Stygian shades;
-Those by Apollo’s silver bow were slain,
-These, Cynthia’s arrows stretch’d upon the plain:
-So was her pride chastised by wrath divine,
-Who match’d her own with bright Latona’s line;
-But two the goddess, twelve the queen enjoy’d;
-Those boasted twelve, the avenging two destroy’d.
-Steep’d in their blood, and in the dust outspread,
-Nine days, neglected, lay exposed the dead;
-None by to weep them, to inhume them none;
-(For Jove had turn’d the nation all to stone.)
-The gods themselves, at length relenting gave
-The unhappy race the honours of a grave.
-Herself a rock (for such was heaven’s high will)
-Through deserts wild now pours a weeping rill;
-Where round the bed whence Achelous springs,
-The watery fairies dance in mazy rings;
-There high on Sipylus’s shaggy brow,
-She stands, her own sad monument of woe;
-The rock for ever lasts, the tears for ever flow.
-
-“Such griefs, O king! have other parents known;
-Remember theirs, and mitigate thy own.
-The care of heaven thy Hector has appear’d,
-Nor shall he lie unwept, and uninterr’d;
-Soon may thy aged cheeks in tears be drown’d,
-And all the eyes of Ilion stream around.”
-
-He said, and, rising, chose the victim ewe
-With silver fleece, which his attendants slew.
-The limbs they sever from the reeking hide,
-With skill prepare them, and in parts divide:
-Each on the coals the separate morsels lays,
-And, hasty, snatches from the rising blaze.
-With bread the glittering canisters they load,
-Which round the board Automedon bestow’d.
-The chief himself to each his portion placed,
-And each indulging shared in sweet repast.
-When now the rage of hunger was repress’d,
-The wondering hero eyes his royal guest:
-No less the royal guest the hero eyes,
-His godlike aspect and majestic size;
-Here, youthful grace and noble fire engage;
-And there, the mild benevolence of age.
-Thus gazing long, the silence neither broke,
-(A solemn scene!) at length the father spoke:
-
-“Permit me now, beloved of Jove! to steep
-My careful temples in the dew of sleep:
-For, since the day that number’d with the dead
-My hapless son, the dust has been my bed;
-Soft sleep a stranger to my weeping eyes;
-My only food, my sorrows and my sighs!
-Till now, encouraged by the grace you give,
-I share thy banquet, and consent to live.”
-
-With that, Achilles bade prepare the bed,
-With purple soft and shaggy carpets spread;
-Forth, by the flaming lights, they bend their way,
-And place the couches, and the coverings lay.
-Then he: “Now, father, sleep, but sleep not here;
-Consult thy safety, and forgive my fear,
-Lest any Argive, at this hour awake,
-To ask our counsel, or our orders take,
-Approaching sudden to our open’d tent,
-Perchance behold thee, and our grace prevent.
-Should such report thy honour’d person here,
-The king of men the ransom might defer;
-But say with speed, if aught of thy desire
-Remains unask’d; what time the rites require
-To inter thy Hector? For, so long we stay
-Our slaughtering arm, and bid the hosts obey.”
-
-“If then thy will permit (the monarch said)
-To finish all due honours to the dead,
-This of thy grace accord: to thee are known
-The fears of Ilion, closed within her town;
-And at what distance from our walls aspire
-The hills of Ide, and forests for the fire.
-Nine days to vent our sorrows I request,
-The tenth shall see the funeral and the feast;
-The next, to raise his monument be given;
-The twelfth we war, if war be doom’d by heaven!”
-
-“This thy request (replied the chief) enjoy:
-Till then our arms suspend the fall of Troy.”
-
-Then gave his hand at parting, to prevent
-The old man’s fears, and turn’d within the tent;
-Where fair Briseïs, bright in blooming charms,
-Expects her hero with desiring arms.
-But in the porch the king and herald rest;
-Sad dreams of care yet wandering in their breast.
-Now gods and men the gifts of sleep partake;
-Industrious Hermes only was awake,
-The king’s return revolving in his mind,
-To pass the ramparts, and the watch to blind.
-The power descending hover’d o’er his head:
-“And sleep’st thou, father! (thus the vision said:)
-Now dost thou sleep, when Hector is restored?
-Nor fear the Grecian foes, or Grecian lord?
-Thy presence here should stern Atrides see,
-Thy still surviving sons may sue for thee;
-May offer all thy treasures yet contain,
-To spare thy age; and offer all in vain.”
-
-Waked with the word the trembling sire arose,
-And raised his friend: the god before him goes:
-He joins the mules, directs them with his hand,
-And moves in silence through the hostile land.
-When now to Xanthus’ yellow stream they drove,
-(Xanthus, immortal progeny of Jove,)
-The winged deity forsook their view,
-And in a moment to Olympus flew.
-Now shed Aurora round her saffron ray,
-Sprang through the gates of light, and gave the day:
-Charged with the mournful load, to Ilion go
-The sage and king, majestically slow.
-Cassandra first beholds, from Ilion’s spire,
-The sad procession of her hoary sire;
-Then, as the pensive pomp advanced more near,
-(Her breathless brother stretched upon the bier,)
-A shower of tears o’erflows her beauteous eyes,
-Alarming thus all Ilion with her cries:
-
-“Turn here your steps, and here your eyes employ,
-Ye wretched daughters, and ye sons of Troy!
-If e’er ye rush’d in crowds, with vast delight,
-To hail your hero glorious from the fight,
-Now meet him dead, and let your sorrows flow;
-Your common triumph, and your common woe.”
-
-In thronging crowds they issue to the plains;
-Nor man nor woman in the walls remains;
-In every face the self-same grief is shown;
-And Troy sends forth one universal groan.
-At Scæa’s gates they meet the mourning wain,
-Hang on the wheels, and grovel round the slain.
-The wife and mother, frantic with despair,
-Kiss his pale cheek, and rend their scatter’d hair:
-Thus wildly wailing, at the gates they lay;
-And there had sigh’d and sorrow’d out the day;
-But godlike Priam from the chariot rose:
-“Forbear (he cried) this violence of woes;
-First to the palace let the car proceed,
-Then pour your boundless sorrows o’er the dead.”
-
-The waves of people at his word divide,
-Slow rolls the chariot through the following tide;
-Even to the palace the sad pomp they wait:
-They weep, and place him on the bed of state.
-A melancholy choir attend around,
-With plaintive sighs, and music’s solemn sound:
-Alternately they sing, alternate flow
-The obedient tears, melodious in their woe.
-While deeper sorrows groan from each full heart,
-And nature speaks at every pause of art.
-
-First to the corse the weeping consort flew;
-Around his neck her milk-white arms she threw,
-“And oh, my Hector! Oh, my lord! (she cries)
-Snatch’d in thy bloom from these desiring eyes!
-Thou to the dismal realms for ever gone!
-And I abandon’d, desolate, alone!
-An only son, once comfort of our pains,
-Sad product now of hapless love, remains!
-Never to manly age that son shall rise,
-Or with increasing graces glad my eyes:
-For Ilion now (her great defender slain)
-Shall sink a smoking ruin on the plain.
-Who now protects her wives with guardian care?
-Who saves her infants from the rage of war?
-Now hostile fleets must waft those infants o’er
-(Those wives must wait them) to a foreign shore:
-Thou too, my son, to barbarous climes shall go,
-The sad companion of thy mother’s woe;
-Driven hence a slave before the victor’s sword
-Condemn’d to toil for some inhuman lord:
-Or else some Greek whose father press’d the plain,
-Or son, or brother, by great Hector slain,
-In Hector’s blood his vengeance shall enjoy,
-And hurl thee headlong from the towers of Troy.[297]
-For thy stern father never spared a foe:
-Thence all these tears, and all this scene of woe!
-Thence many evils his sad parents bore,
-His parents many, but his consort more.
-Why gav’st thou not to me thy dying hand?
-And why received not I thy last command?
-Some word thou would’st have spoke, which, sadly dear,
-My soul might keep, or utter with a tear;
-Which never, never could be lost in air,
-Fix’d in my heart, and oft repeated there!”
-
-Thus to her weeping maids she makes her moan,
-Her weeping handmaids echo groan for groan.
-
-The mournful mother next sustains her part:
-“O thou, the best, the dearest to my heart!
-Of all my race thou most by heaven approved,
-And by the immortals even in death beloved!
-While all my other sons in barbarous bands
-Achilles bound, and sold to foreign lands,
-This felt no chains, but went a glorious ghost,
-Free, and a hero, to the Stygian coast.
-Sentenced, ’tis true, by his inhuman doom,
-Thy noble corse was dragg’d around the tomb;
-(The tomb of him thy warlike arm had slain;)
-Ungenerous insult, impotent and vain!
-Yet glow’st thou fresh with every living grace;
-No mark of pain, or violence of face:
-Rosy and fair! as Phœbus’ silver bow
-Dismiss’d thee gently to the shades below.”
-
-Thus spoke the dame, and melted into tears.
-Sad Helen next in pomp of grief appears;
-Fast from the shining sluices of her eyes
-Fall the round crystal drops, while thus she cries.
-
-“Ah, dearest friend! in whom the gods had join’d[298]
-The mildest manners with the bravest mind,
-Now twice ten years (unhappy years) are o’er
-Since Paris brought me to the Trojan shore,
-(O had I perish’d, ere that form divine
-Seduced this soft, this easy heart of mine!)
-Yet was it ne’er my fate, from thee to find
-A deed ungentle, or a word unkind.
-When others cursed the authoress of their woe,
-Thy pity check’d my sorrows in their flow.
-If some proud brother eyed me with disdain,
-Or scornful sister with her sweeping train,
-Thy gentle accents soften’d all my pain.
-For thee I mourn, and mourn myself in thee,
-The wretched source of all this misery.
-The fate I caused, for ever I bemoan;
-Sad Helen has no friend, now thou art gone!
-Through Troy’s wide streets abandon’d shall I roam!
-In Troy deserted, as abhorr’d at home!”
-
-So spoke the fair, with sorrow-streaming eye.
-Distressful beauty melts each stander-by.
-On all around the infectious sorrow grows;
-But Priam check’d the torrent as it rose:
-“Perform, ye Trojans! what the rites require,
-And fell the forests for a funeral pyre;
-Twelve days, nor foes nor secret ambush dread;
-Achilles grants these honours to the dead.”[299]
-
-
-[Illustration: ] FUNERAL OF HECTOR
-
-
-He spoke, and, at his word, the Trojan train
-Their mules and oxen harness to the wain,
-Pour through the gates, and fell’d from Ida’s crown,
-Roll back the gather’d forests to the town.
-These toils continue nine succeeding days,
-And high in air a sylvan structure raise.
-But when the tenth fair morn began to shine,
-Forth to the pile was borne the man divine,
-And placed aloft; while all, with streaming eyes,
-Beheld the flames and rolling smokes arise.
-Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
-With rosy lustre streak’d the dewy lawn,
-Again the mournful crowds surround the pyre,
-And quench with wine the yet remaining fire.
-The snowy bones his friends and brothers place
-(With tears collected) in a golden vase;
-The golden vase in purple palls they roll’d,
-Of softest texture, and inwrought with gold.
-Last o’er the urn the sacred earth they spread,
-And raised the tomb, memorial of the dead.
-(Strong guards and spies, till all the rites were done,
-Watch’d from the rising to the setting sun.)
-All Troy then moves to Priam’s court again,
-A solemn, silent, melancholy train:
-Assembled there, from pious toil they rest,
-And sadly shared the last sepulchral feast.
-Such honours Ilion to her hero paid,
-And peaceful slept the mighty Hector’s shade.[300]
-
-
-
-
-CONCLUDING NOTE.
-
-
-We have now passed through the Iliad, and seen the anger of Achilles,
-and the terrible effects of it, at an end: as that only was the subject
-of the poem, and the nature of epic poetry would not permit our author
-to proceed to the event of the war, it perhaps may be acceptable to the
-common reader to give a short account of what happened to Troy and the
-chief actors in this poem after the conclusion of it.
-
-I need not mention that Troy was taken soon after the death of Hector
-by the stratagem of the wooden horse, the particulars of which are
-described by Virgil in the second book of the Æneid.
-
-Achilles fell before Troy, by the hand of Paris, by the shot of an
-arrow in his heel, as Hector had prophesied at his death, lib. xxii.
-
-The unfortunate Priam was killed by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles.
-
-Ajax, after the death of Achilles, had a contest with Ulysses for the
-armour of Vulcan, but being defeated in his aim, he slew himself
-through indignation.
-
-Helen, after the death of Paris, married Deiphobus his brother, and at
-the taking of Troy betrayed him, in order to reconcile herself to
-Menelaus her first husband, who received her again into favour.
-
-Agamemnon at his return was barbarously murdered by Ægysthus, at the
-instigation of Clytemnestra his wife, who in his absence had
-dishonoured his bed with Ægysthus.
-
-Diomed, after the fall of Troy, was expelled his own country, and
-scarce escaped with his life from his adulterous wife Ægialé; but at
-last was received by Daunus in Apulia, and shared his kingdom; it is
-uncertain how he died.
-
-Nestor lived in peace with his children, in Pylos, his native country.
-
-Ulysses also, after innumerable troubles by sea and land, at last
-returned in safety to Ithaca, which is the subject of Homer’s Odyssey.
-
-For what remains, I beg to be excused from the ceremonies of taking
-leave at the end of my work, and from embarrassing myself, or others,
-with any defences or apologies about it. But instead of endeavouring to
-raise a vain monument to myself, of the merits or difficulties of it
-(which must be left to the world, to truth, and to posterity), let me
-leave behind me a memorial of my friendship with one of the most
-valuable of men, as well as finest writers, of my age and country, one
-who has tried, and knows by his own experience, how hard an undertaking
-it is to do justice to Homer, and one whom (I am sure) sincerely
-rejoices with me at the period of my labours. To him, therefore, having
-brought this long work to a conclusion, I desire to dedicate it, and to
-have the honour and satisfaction of placing together, in this manner,
-the names of Mr. CONGREVE, and of
-
-March 25, 1720
-
-A. POPE
-
-
-Ton theon de eupoiia—to mae epi pleon me procophai en poiaetiki kai
-allois epitaeoeimasi en ois isos a kateschethaen, ei aesthomaen emautan
-euodos proionta.
-
-M. AUREL ANTON _de Seipso_, lib. i. § 17.
-
-
-END OF THE ILIAD
-
-
-
-
-Footnotes
-
-
- [1] “What,” says Archdeacon Wilberforce, “is the natural root of
- loyalty as distinguished from such mere selfish desire of personal
- security as is apt to take its place in civilized times, but that
- consciousness of a natural bond among the families of men which gives
- a fellow-feeling to whole clans and nations, and thus enlists their
- affections in behalf of those time-honoured representatives of their
- ancient blood, in whose success they feel a personal interest? Hence
- the delight when we recognize an act of nobility or justice in our
- hereditary princes
-
-“‘Tuque prior, tu parce genus qui ducis Olympo,
-Projice tela manu _sanguis meus_’
-
-“So strong is this feeling, that it regains an engrafted influence even
-when history witnesses that vast convulsions have rent and weakened it
-and the Celtic feeling towards the Stuarts has been rekindled in our
-own days towards the granddaughter of George the Third of Hanover.
-    “Somewhat similar may be seen in the disposition to idolize those
-    great lawgivers of man’s race, who have given expression, in the
-    immortal language of song, to the deeper inspirations of our
-    nature. The thoughts of Homer or of Shakespere are the universal
-    inheritance of the human race. In this mutual ground every man
-    meets his brother, they have been set forth by the providence of
-    God to vindicate for all of us what nature could effect, and that,
-    in these representatives of our race, we might recognize our common
-    benefactors.’—_Doctrine of the Incarnation_, pp. 9, 10.
-
- [2] Εἰκος δέ μιν ἦν καὶ μνημόσυνα πάντων γράφεσθαι. Vit. Hom. in
- Schweigh. Herodot. t. iv. p. 299, sq. § 6. I may observe that this
- Life has been paraphrased in English by my learned young friend
- Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie, and appended to my prose translation of the
- Odyssey. The present abridgement however, will contain all that is of
- use to the reader, for the biographical value of the treatise is most
- insignificant.
-
- [3] _I.e._ both of composing and reciting verses for as Blair
- observes, “The first poets sang their own verses.” Sextus Empir. adv.
- Mus. p. 360 ed. Fabric. Οὐ ἀμελει γέ τοι καὶ οἰ ποιηταὶ μελοποιοὶ
- λέγονται, καὶ τὰ Ὁμήρου ἕπη τὸ πάλαι πρὸς λύραν ἤδετο.
-    “The voice,” observes Heeren, “was always accompanied by some
- instrument. The bard was provided with a harp on which he played a
- prelude, to elevate and inspire his mind, and with which he
- accompanied the song when begun. His voice probably preserved a medium
- between singing and recitation; the words, and not the melody were
- regarded by the listeners, hence it was necessary for him to remain
- intelligible to all. In countries where nothing similar is found, it
- is difficult to represent such scenes to the mind; but whoever has had
- an opportunity of listening to the improvisation of Italy, can easily
- form an idea of Demodocus and Phemius.”—_Ancient Greece_, p. 94.
-
- [4] “Should it not be, since _my_ arrival? asks Mackenzie, observing
- that “poplars can hardly live so long”. But setting aside the fact
- that we must not expect consistency in a mere romance, the ancients
- had a superstitious belief in the great age of trees which grew near
- places consecrated by the presence of gods and great men. See Cicero
- de Legg II I, sub init., where he speaks of the plane tree under which
- Socrates used to walk and of the tree at Delos, where Latona gave
- birth to Apollo. This passage is referred to by Stephanus of
- Byzantium, _s. v._ N. T. p. 490, ed. de Pinedo. I omit quoting any of
- the dull epigrams ascribed to Homer for, as Mr. Justice Talfourd
- rightly observes, “The authenticity of these fragments depends upon
- that of the pseudo Herodotean Life of Homer, from which they are
- taken.” Lit of Greece, pp. 38 in Encycl. Metrop. Cf. Coleridge,
- Classic Poets, p. 317.
-
- [5] It is quoted as the work of Cleobulus, by Diogenes Laert. Vit.
- Cleob. p. 62, ed. Casaub.
-
- [6] I trust I am justified in employing this as an equivalent for the
- Greek λέσχαι.
-
- [7] Ὡς εἰ τοὺς Ὁμήρους δόξει τρέφειν αὐτοῖς, ὅμιλον πολλόν τε και
- ἀχρεοῖν ἕξουσιν. ἐι τεῦθεν δὲ και τοὔνομα Ὁμηρος ἐπεκράτησε τῷ
- Μελησιγενεῖ ἀπὸ τῆς συμφορης. οἱ γὰρ Κυμαῖοι τοὺς τυφλοὺς Ὁμήρους
- λέγουσιν. Vit. Hom. _l. c._ p. 311. The etymology has been condemned
- by recent scholars. See Welcker, Epische Cyclus, p. 127, and
- Mackenzie’s note, p. xiv.
-
- [8] Θεστορίδης, θνητοῖσιν ἀνωἷστων πολεών περ, οὐδὲν ἀφραστότερον
- πέλεται νόου ἀνθρώποισιν. Ibid. p. 315. During his stay at Phocœa,
- Homer is said to have composed the Little Iliad, and the Phocœid. See
- Muller’s Hist. of Lit., vi. § 3. Welcker, _l. c._ pp. 132, 272, 358,
- sqq., and Mure, Gr. Lit. vol. ii. p. 284, sq.
-
- [9] This is so pretty a picture of early manners and hospitality, that
- it is almost a pity to find that it is obviously a copy from the
- Odyssey. See the fourteenth book. In fact, whoever was the author of
- this fictitious biography, he showed some tact in identifying Homer
- with certain events described in his poems, and in eliciting from them
- the germs of something like a personal narrative.
-
- [10] Διὰ λόγων ἐστιῶντο. A common metaphor. So Plato calls the parties
- conversing δαιτύμονες, or ἐστιάτορες, Tim. i. p. 522 A. Cf. Themist.
- Orat. vi. p. 168, and xvi. p. 374, ed. Petav. So διηγήμασι σοφοῖς ὁμοῦ
- καὶ τερπνοῖς ἡδίω τὴν θοινην τοῖς ἑστιωμένοις ἐποίει, Choricius in
- Fabric. Bibl. Gr. T. viii. P. 851. λόγοις γὰρ ἑστίᾳ, Athenæus vii p
- 275, A.
-
- [11] It was at Bolissus, and in the house of this Chian citizen, that
- Homer is said to have written the Batrachomyomachia, or Battle of the
- Frogs and Mice, the Epicichlidia, and some other minor works.
-
- [12] Chandler, Travels, vol. i. p. 61, referred to in the Voyage
- Pittoresque dans la Grèce, vol. i. P. 92, where a view of the spot is
- given of which the author candidly says,— “Je ne puis répondre d’une
- exactitude scrupuleuse dans la vue générale que j’en donne, car étant
- allé seul pour l’examiner je perdis mon crayon, et je fus obligé de
- m’en fier à ma mémoire. Je ne crois cependant pas avoir trop à me
- plaindre d’elle en cette occasion.”
-
- [13] A more probable reason for this companionship, and for the
- character of Mentor itself, is given by the allegorists, viz.: the
- assumption of Mentor’s form by the guardian deity of the wise Ulysses,
- Minerva. The classical reader may compare Plutarch, Opp. t. ii. p.
- 880; _Xyland_. Heraclid. Pont. Alleg. Hom. p. 531-5, of Gale’s Opusc.
- Mythol. Dionys. Halic. de Hom. Poes. c. 15; Apul. de Deo Socrat. s. f.
-
- [14] Vit. Hom. § 28.
-
- [15] The riddle is given in Section 35. Compare Mackenzie’s note, p.
- xxx.
-
- [16] Heeren’s Ancient Greece, p. 96.
-
- [17] Compare Sir E. L. Bulwer’s Caxtons v. i. p. 4.
-
- [18] Pericles and Aspasia, Letter lxxxiv., Works, vol ii. p. 387.
-
- [19] Quarterly Review, No. lxxxvii., p. 147.
-
- [20] Viz., the following beautiful passage, for the translation of
- which I am indebted to Coleridge, Classic Poets, p. 286.
-
-“Origias, farewell! and oh! remember me
-Hereafter, when some stranger from the sea,
-A hapless wanderer, may your isle explore,
-And ask you, maid, of all the bards you boast,
-Who sings the sweetest, and delights you most
-Oh! answer all,—‘A blind old man and poor
-Sweetest he sings—and dwells on Chios’ rocky shore.’”
-
-_See_ Thucyd. iii, 104.
-
- [21] Longin., de Sublim., ix. § 26. Ὅθεν ἐν τῇ Ὀδυσσείᾳ παρεικάσαι τις
- ἂν καταδυομένῳ τὸν Ὅμηρον ἡλίῳ, οδ δίχα τῆς σφοδρότητος παραμένει το
- μέγεθος.
-
- [22] See Tatian, quoted in Fabric. Bibl. Gr. v. II t. ii. Mr.
- Mackenzie has given three brief but elaborate papers on the different
- writers on the subject, which deserve to be consulted. See Notes and
- Queries, vol. v. pp. 99, 171, and 221. His own views are moderate, and
- perhaps as satisfactory, on the whole, as any of the hypotheses
- hitherto put forth. In fact, they consist in an attempt to blend those
- hypotheses into something like consistency, rather than in advocating
- any individual theory.
-
- [23] Letters to Phileleuth; Lips.
-
- [24] Hist. of Greece, vol. ii. p. 191, sqq.
-
- [25] It is, indeed not easy to calculate the height to which the
- memory may be cultivated. To take an ordinary case, we might refer to
- that of any first rate actor, who must be prepared, at a very short
- warning, to ‘rhapsodize,’ night after night, parts which when laid
- together, would amount to an immense number of lines. But all this is
- nothing to two instances of our own day. Visiting at Naples a
- gentleman of the highest intellectual attainments, and who held a
- distinguished rank among the men of letters in the last century, he
- informed us that the day before he had passed much time in examining a
- man, not highly educated, who had learned to repeat the whole
- Gierusalemme of Tasso, not only to recite it consecutively, but also
- to repeat those stanzas in utter defiance of the sense, either
- forwards or backwards, or from the eighth line to the first,
- alternately the odd and even lines—in short, whatever the passage
- required; the memory, which seemed to cling to the words much more
- than to the sense, had it at such perfect command, that it could
- produce it under any form. Our informant went on to state that this
- singular being was proceeding to learn the Orlando Furioso in the same
- manner. But even this instance is less wonderful than one as to which
- we may appeal to any of our readers that happened some twenty years
- ago to visit the town of Stirling, in Scotland. No such person can
- have forgotten the poor, uneducated man Blind Jamie who could actually
- repeat, after a few minutes consideration any verse required from any
- part of the Bible—even the obscurest and most unimportant enumeration
- of mere proper names not excepted. We do not mention these facts as
- touching the more difficult part of the question before us, but facts
- they are; and if we find so much difficulty in calculating the extent
- to which the mere memory may be cultivated, are we, in these days of
- multifarious reading, and of countless distracting affairs, fair
- judges of the perfection to which the invention and the memory
- combined may attain in a simpler age, and among a more single minded
- people?—Quarterly Review, _l. c._, p. 143, sqq.
-    Heeren steers between the two opinions, observing that, “The
-    Dschungariade of the Calmucks is said to surpass the poems of Homer
-    in length, as much as it stands beneath them in merit, and yet it
-    exists only in the memory of a people which is not unacquainted
-    with writing. But the songs of a nation are probably the last
-    things which are committed to writing, for the very reason that
-    they are remembered.”— _Ancient Greece_. p. 100.
-
- [26] Vol. II p. 198, sqq.
-
- [27] Quarterly Review, _l. c._, p. 131 sq.
-
- [28] Betrachtungen über die Ilias. Berol. 1841. See Grote, p. 204.
- Notes and Queries, vol. v. p. 221.
-
- [29] Prolegg. pp. xxxii., xxxvi., &c.
-
- [30] Vol. ii. p. 214 sqq.
-
- [31] “Who,” says Cicero, de Orat. iii. 34, “was more learned in that
- age, or whose eloquence is reported to have been more perfected by
- literature than that of Peisistratus, who is said first to have
- disposed the books of Homer in the order in which we now have them?”
- Compare Wolf’s Prolegomena 33, §.
-
- [32] “The first book, together with the eighth, and the books from the
- eleventh to the twenty-second inclusive, seems to form the primary
- organization of the poem, then properly an Achilleïs.”—Grote, vol. ii.
- p. 235
-
- [33] K. R. H. Mackenzie, Notes and Queries, p. 222 sqq.
-
- [34] See his Epistle to Raphelingius, in Schroeder’s edition, 4to.,
- Delphis, 1728.
-
- [35] Ancient Greece, p. 101.
-
- [36] The best description of this monument will be found in Vaux’s
- “Antiquities of the British Museum,” p. 198 sq. The monument itself
- (Towneley Sculptures, No. 123) is well known.
-
- [37] Coleridge, Classic Poets, p. 276.
-
- [38] Preface to her Homer.
-
- [39] Hesiod. Opp. et Dier. Lib. I. vers. 155, &c.
-
- [40] The following argument of the Iliad, corrected in a few
- particulars, is translated from Bitaubé, and is, perhaps, the neatest
- summary that has ever been drawn up:—“A hero, injured by his general,
- and animated with a noble resentment, retires to his tent; and for a
- season withdraws himself and his troops from the war. During this
- interval, victory abandons the army, which for nine years has been
- occupied in a great enterprise, upon the successful termination of
- which the honour of their country depends. The general, at length
- opening his eyes to the fault which he had committed, deputes the
- principal officers of his army to the incensed hero, with commission
- to make compensation for the injury, and to tender magnificent
- presents. The hero, according to the proud obstinacy of his character,
- persists in his animosity; the army is again defeated, and is on the
- verge of entire destruction. This inexorable man has a friend; this
- friend weeps before him, and asks for the hero’s arms, and for
- permission to go to the war in his stead. The eloquence of friendship
- prevails more than the intercession of the ambassadors or the gifts of
- the general. He lends his armour to his friend, but commands him not
- to engage with the chief of the enemy’s army, because he reserves to
- himself the honour of that combat, and because he also fears for his
- friend’s life. The prohibition is forgotten; the friend listens to
- nothing but his courage; his corpse is brought back to the hero, and
- the hero’s arms become the prize of the conqueror. Then the hero,
- given up to the most lively despair, prepares to fight; he receives
- from a divinity new armour, is reconciled with his general and,
- thirsting for glory and revenge, enacts prodigies of valour, recovers
- the victory, slays the enemy’s chief, honours his friend with superb
- funeral rites, and exercises a cruel vengeance on the body of his
- destroyer; but finally appeased by the tears and prayers of the father
- of the slain warrior, restores to the old man the corpse of his son,
- which he buries with due solemnities.’—Coleridge, p. 177, sqq.
-
- [41] Vultures: Pope is more accurate than the poet he translates, for
- Homer writes “a prey to dogs and to _all_ kinds of birds. But all
- kinds of birds are not carnivorous.
-
- [42] _i.e._ during the whole time of their striving the will of Jove
- was being gradually accomplished.
-
- [43] Compare Milton’s “Paradise Lost” i. 6
-
-“Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top
-Of Horeb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
-That shepherd.”
-
- [44] _Latona’s son: i.e._ Apollo.
-
- [45] _King of men:_ Agamemnon.
-
- [46] _Brother kings:_ Menelaus and Agamemnon.
-
- [47] _Smintheus_ an epithet taken from sminthos, the Phrygian name
- for a _mouse_, was applied to Apollo for having put an end to a plague
- of mice which had harassed that territory. Strabo, however, says, that
- when the Teucri were migrating from Crete, they were told by an oracle
- to settle in that place, where they should not be attacked by the
- original inhabitants of the land, and that, having halted for the
- night, a number of field-mice came and gnawed away the leathern straps
- of their baggage, and thongs of their armour. In fulfilment of the
- oracle, they settled on the spot, and raised a temple to Sminthean
- Apollo. Grote, “History of Greece,” i. p. 68, remarks that the
- “worship of Sminthean Apollo, in various parts of the Troad and its
- neighboring territory, dates before the earliest period of Æolian
- colonization.”
-
- [48] _Cilla_, a town of Troas near Thebe, so called from Cillus, a
- sister of Hippodamia, slain by Œnomaus.
-
- [49] A mistake. It should be,
-
-“If e’er I roofed thy graceful fane,”
-
-for the custom of decorating temples with garlands was of later date.
-
- [50] _Bent was his bow_ “The Apollo of Homer, it must be borne in
- mind, is a different character from the deity of the same name in the
- later classical pantheon. Throughout both poems, all deaths from
- unforeseen or invisible causes, the ravages of pestilence, the fate of
- the young child or promising adult, cut off in the germ of infancy or
- flower of youth, of the old man dropping peacefully into the grave, or
- of the reckless sinner suddenly checked in his career of crime, are
- ascribed to the arrows of Apollo or Diana. The oracular functions of
- the god rose naturally out of the above fundamental attributes, for
- who could more appropriately impart to mortals what little
- foreknowledge Fate permitted of her decrees than the agent of her most
- awful dispensations? The close union of the arts of prophecy and song
- explains his additional office of god of music, while the arrows with
- which he and his sister were armed, symbols of sudden death in every
- age, no less naturally procured him that of god of archery. Of any
- connection between Apollo and the Sun, whatever may have existed in
- the more esoteric doctrine of the Greek sanctuaries, there is no trace
- in either Iliad or Odyssey.”—Mure, “History of Greek Literature,” vol.
- i. p. 478, sq.
-
- [51] It has frequently been observed, that most pestilences begin with
- animals, and that Homer had this fact in mind.
-
- [52] _Convened to council_. The public assembly in the heroic times is
- well characterized by Grote, vol. ii. p 92. “It is an assembly for
- talk. Communication and discussion to a certain extent by the chiefs
- in person, of the people as listeners and sympathizers—often for
- eloquence, and sometimes for quarrel—but here its ostensible purposes
- end.”
-
- [53] Old Jacob Duport, whose “Gnomologia Homerica” is full of curious
- and useful things, quotes several passages of the ancients, in which
- reference is made to these words of Homer, in maintenance of the
- belief that dreams had a divine origin and an import in which men were
- interested.
-
- [54] Rather, “bright-eyed.” See the German critics quoted by Arnold.
-
- [55] The prize given to Ajax was Tecmessa, while Ulysses received
- Laodice, the daughter of Cycnus.
-
- [56] The Myrmidons dwelt on the southern borders of Thessaly, and took
- their origin from Myrmido, son of Jupiter and Eurymedusa. It is
- fancifully supposed that the name was derived from myrmaex, an _ant_,
- “because they imitated the diligence of the ants, and like them were
- indefatigable, continually employed in cultivating the earth; the
- change from ants to men is founded merely on the equivocation of their
- name, which resembles that of the ant: they bore a further resemblance
- to these little animals, in that instead of inhabiting towns or
- villages, at first they commonly resided in the open fields, having no
- other retreats but dens and the cavities of trees, until Ithacus
- brought them together, and settled them in more secure and comfortable
- habitations.”—Anthon’s “Lempriere.”
-
- [57] Eustathius, after Heraclides Ponticus and others, allegorizes
- this apparition, as if the appearance of Minerva to Achilles, unseen
- by the rest, was intended to point out the sudden recollection that he
- would gain nothing by intemperate wrath, and that it were best to
- restrain his anger, and only gratify it by withdrawing his services.
- The same idea is rather cleverly worked out by Apuleius, “De Deo
- Socratis.”
-
- [58] Compare Milton, “Paradise Lost,” bk. ii:
-
-“Though his tongue
-Dropp’d manna.”
-
-So Proverbs v. 3, “For the lips of a strange woman drop as an
-honey-comb.”
-
- [59] Salt water was chiefly used in lustrations, from its being
- supposed to possess certain fiery particles. Hence, if sea-water could
- not be obtained, salt was thrown into the fresh water to be used for
- the lustration. Menander, in Clem. Alex. vii. p.713, hydati
- perriranai, embalon alas, phakois.
-
- [60] The persons of heralds were held inviolable, and they were at
- liberty to travel whither they would without fear of molestation.
- Pollux, Onom. viii. p. 159. The office was generally given to old men,
- and they were believed to be under the especial protection of Jove and
- Mercury.
-
- [61] His mother, Thetis, the daughter of Nereus and Doris, who was
- courted by Neptune and Jupiter. When, however, it was known that the
- son to whom she would give birth must prove greater than his father,
- it was determined to wed her to a mortal, and Peleus, with great
- difficulty, succeeded in obtaining her hand, as she eluded him by
- assuming various forms. Her children were all destroyed by fire
- through her attempts to see whether they were immortal, and Achilles
- would have shared the same fate had not his father rescued him. She
- afterwards rendered him invulnerable by plunging him into the waters
- of the Styx, with the exception of that part of the heel by which she
- held him. Hygin. Fab. 54
-
- [62] Thebé was a city of Mysia, north of Adramyttium.
-
- [63] That is, defrauds me of the prize allotted me by their votes.
-
- [64] Quintus Calaber goes still further in his account of the service
- rendered to Jove by Thetis:
-
-“Nay more, the fetters of Almighty Jove
-She loosed”—Dyce’s “Calaber,” s. 58.
-
- [65] _To Fates averse_. Of the gloomy destiny reigning throughout the
- Homeric poems, and from which even the gods are not exempt, Schlegel
- well observes, “This power extends also to the world of gods— for the
- Grecian gods are mere powers of nature—and although immeasurably
- higher than mortal man, yet, compared with infinitude, they are on an
- equal footing with himself.”—‘Lectures on the Drama’ v. p. 67.
-
- [66] It has been observed that the annual procession of the sacred
- ship so often represented on Egyptian monuments, and the return of the
- deity from Ethiopia after some days’ absence, serves to show the
- Ethiopian origin of Thebes, and of the worship of Jupiter Ammon. “I
- think,” says Heeren, after quoting a passage from Diodorus about the
- holy ship, “that this procession is represented in one of the great
- sculptured reliefs on the temple of Karnak. The sacred ship of Ammon
- is on the shore with its whole equipment, and is towed along by
- another boat. It is therefore on its voyage. This must have been one
- of the most celebrated festivals, since, even according to the
- interpretation of antiquity, Homer alludes to it when he speaks of
- Jupiter’s visit to the Ethiopians, and his twelve days’
- absence.”—Long, “Egyptian Antiquities” vol. 1 p. 96. Eustathius, vol.
- 1 p. 98, sq. (ed. Basil) gives this interpretation, and likewise an
- allegorical one, which we will spare the reader.
-
- [67] _Atoned_, i.e. reconciled. This is the proper and most natural
- meaning of the word, as may be seen from Taylor’s remarks in Calmet’s
- Dictionary, p.110, of my edition.
-
- [68] That is, drawing back their necks while they cut their throats.
- “If the sacrifice was in honour of the celestial gods, the throat was
- bent upwards towards heaven; but if made to the heroes, or infernal
- deities, it was killed with its throat toward the ground.”— “Elgin
- Marbles,” vol i. p.81.
-
-“The jolly crew, unmindful of the past,
-The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste,
-Some strip the skin; some portion out the spoil;
-The limbs yet trembling, in the caldrons boil;
-Some on the fire the reeking entrails broil.
-Stretch’d on the grassy turf, at ease they dine,
-Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their souls with wine.”
-
-Dryden’s “Virgil,” i. 293.
-
- [69] _Crown’d, i.e._ filled to the brim. The custom of adorning
- goblets with flowers was of later date.
-
- [70] _He spoke_, &c. “When a friend inquired of Phidias what pattern
- he had formed his Olympian Jupiter, he is said to have answered by
- repeating the lines of the first Iliad in which the poet represents
- the majesty of the god in the most sublime terms; thereby signifying
- that the genius of Homer had inspired him with it. Those who beheld
- this statue are said to have been so struck with it as to have asked
- whether Jupiter had descended from heaven to show himself to Phidias,
- or whether Phidias had been carried thither to contemplate the god.”—
- “Elgin Marbles,” vol. xii p.124.
-
- [71] “So was his will
-Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath,
-That shook heav’n’s whole circumference, confirm’d.”
-
-“Paradise Lost” ii. 351.
-
- [72] _A double bowl, i.e._ a vessel with a cup at both ends, something
- like the measures by which a halfpenny or pennyworth of nuts is sold.
- See Buttmann, Lexic. p. 93 sq.
-
- [73] “Paradise Lost,” i. 44.
-
-“Him th’ Almighty power
-Hurl’d headlong flaming from th ethereal sky,
-With hideous ruin and combustion”
-
- [74] The occasion on which Vulcan incurred Jove’s displeasure was
- this—After Hercules, had taken and pillaged Troy, Juno raised a storm,
- which drove him to the island of Cos, having previously cast Jove into
- a sleep, to prevent him aiding his son. Jove, in revenge, fastened
- iron anvils to her feet, and hung her from the sky, and Vulcan,
- attempting to relieve her, was kicked down from Olympus in the manner
- described. The allegorists have gone mad in finding deep explanations
- for this amusing fiction. See Heraclides, “Ponticus,” p. 463 sq., ed
- Gale. The story is told by Homer himself in Book xv. The Sinthians
- were a race of robbers, the ancient inhabitants of Lemnos which island
- was ever after sacred to Vulcan.
-
-“Nor was his name unheard or unadored
-In ancient Greece, and in Ausonian land
-Men call’d him Mulciber, and how he fell
-From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove
-Sheer o’er the crystal battlements from morn
-To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
-A summer’s day and with the setting sun
-Dropp’d from the zenith like a falling star
-On Lemnos, th’ Aegean isle thus they relate.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” i. 738
-
- [75] It is ingeniously observed by Grote, vol i p. 463, that “The gods
- formed a sort of political community of their own which had its
- hierarchy, its distribution of ranks and duties, its contentions for
- power and occasional revolutions, its public meetings in the agora of
- Olympus, and its multitudinous banquets or festivals.”
-
- [76] Plato, Rep. iii. p. 437, was so scandalized at this deception of
- Jupiter’s, and at his other attacks on the character of the gods, that
- he would fain sentence him to an honourable banishment. (See Minucius
- Felix, Section 22.) Coleridge, Introd. p. 154, well observes, that the
- supreme father of gods and men had a full right to employ a lying
- spirit to work out his ultimate will. Compare “Paradise Lost,” v. 646:
-
-“And roseate dews disposed
-All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest.”
-
- [77] —_Dream_ ought to be spelt with a capital letter, being, I think,
- evidently personified as the god of dreams. See Anthon and others.
-
-“When, by Minerva sent, a _fraudful_ Dream
-Rush’d from the skies, the bane of her and Troy.”
-
-Dyce’s “Select Translations from Quintus Calaber,” p.10.
-
- [78] “Sleep’st thou, companion dear, what sleep can close
-Thy eye-lids?”—“Paradise Lost,” v. 673.
-
- [79] This truly military sentiment has been echoed by the approving
- voice of many a general and statesman of antiquity. See Pliny’s
- Panegyric on Trajan. Silius neatly translates it,
-
-“Turpe duci totam somno consumere noctem.”
-
- [80] _The same in habit_, &c.
-
-“To whom once more the winged god appears;
-His former youthful mien and shape he wears.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, iv. 803.
-
- [81] “As bees in spring-time, when
-The sun with Taurus rides,
-Pour forth their populous youth about the hive
-In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers
-Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank,
-The suburb of this straw-built citadel,
-New-nibb’d with balm, expatiate and confer
-Their state affairs. So thick the very crowd
-Swarm’d and were straiten’d.”—“Paradise Lost” i. 768.
-
- [82] It was the herald’s duty to make the people sit down. “A
- _standing_ agora is a symptom of manifest terror (II. Xviii. 246) an
- evening agora, to which men came elevated by wine, is also the
- forerunner of mischief (‘Odyssey,’ iii. 138).”—Grote, ii. p. 91,
- _note_.
-
- [83] This sceptre, like that of Judah (Genesis xlix. 10), is a type of
- the supreme and far-spread dominion of the house of the Atrides. See
- Thucydides i. 9. “It is traced through the hands of Hermes, he being
- the wealth giving god, whose blessing is most efficacious in
- furthering the process of acquisition.”—Grote, i. p. 212. Compare
- Quintus Calaber (Dyce’s Selections, p. 43).
-
-“Thus the monarch spoke,
-Then pledged the chief in a capacious cup,
-Golden, and framed by art divine (a gift
-Which to Almighty Jove lame Vulcan brought
-Upon his nuptial day, when he espoused
-The Queen of Love), the sire of gods bestow’d
-The cup on Dardanus, who gave it next
-To Ericthonius Tros received it then,
-And left it, with his wealth, to be possess’d
-By Ilus he to great Laomedon
-Gave it, and last to Priam’s lot it fell.”
-
- [84] Grote, i, p. 393, states the number of the Grecian forces at
- upwards of 100,000 men. Nichols makes a total of 135,000.
-
- [85] “As thick as when a field
-Of Ceres, ripe for harvest, waving bends
-His bearded grove of ears, which way the wind
-Sways them.”—Paradise Lost,” iv. 980, sqq.
-
- [86] This sentiment used to be a popular one with some of the greatest
- tyrants, who abused it into a pretext for unlimited usurpation of
- power. Dion, Caligula, and Domitian were particularly fond of it, and,
- in an extended form, we find the maxim propounded by Creon in the
- Antigone of Sophocles. See some important remarks of Heeren, “Ancient
- Greece,” ch. vi. p. 105.
-
- [87] It may be remarked, that the character of Thersites, revolting
- and contemptible as it is, serves admirably to develop the disposition
- of Ulysses in a new light, in which mere cunning is less prominent. Of
- the gradual and individual development of Homer’s heroes, Schlegel
- well observes, “In bas-relief the figures are usually in profile, and
- in the epos all are characterized in the simplest manner in relief;
- they are not grouped together, but follow one another; so Homer’s
- heroes advance, one by one, in succession before us. It has been
- remarked that the _Iliad_ is not definitively closed, but that we are
- left to suppose something both to precede and to follow it. The
- bas-relief is equally without limit, and may be continued _ad
- infinitum_, either from before or behind, on which account the
- ancients preferred for it such subjects as admitted of an indefinite
- extension, sacrificial processions, dances, and lines of combatants,
- and hence they also exhibit bas-reliefs on curved surfaces, such as
- vases, or the frieze of a rotunda, where, by the curvature, the two
- ends are withdrawn from our sight, and where, while we advance, one
- object appears as another disappears. Reading Homer is very much like
- such a circuit; the present object alone arresting our attention, we
- lose sight of what precedes, and do not concern ourselves about what
- is to follow.”—“Dramatic Literature,” p. 75.
-
- [88] “There cannot be a clearer indication than this description —so
- graphic in the original poem—of the true character of the Homeric
- agora. The multitude who compose it are listening and acquiescent, not
- often hesitating, and never refractory to the chief. The fate which
- awaits a presumptuous critic, even where his virulent reproaches are
- substantially well-founded, is plainly set forth in the treatment of
- Thersites; while the unpopularity of such a character is attested even
- more by the excessive pains which Homer takes to heap upon him
- repulsive personal deformities, than by the chastisement of Odysseus
- he is lame, bald, crook-backed, of misshapen head, and squinting
- vision.”—Grote, vol. i. p. 97.
-
- [89] According to Pausanias, both the sprig and the remains of the
- tree were exhibited in his time. The tragedians, Lucretius and others,
- adopted a different fable to account for the stoppage at Aulis, and
- seem to have found the sacrifice of Iphigena better suited to form the
- subject of a tragedy. Compare Dryden’s “Æneid,” vol. iii. sqq.
-
- [90] _Full of his god, i.e._, Apollo, filled with the prophetic
- spirit. “_The_ god” would be more simple and emphatic.
-
- [91] Those critics who have maintained that the “Catalogue of Ships”
- is an interpolation, should have paid more attention to these lines,
- which form a most natural introduction to their enumeration.
-
- [92] The following observation will be useful to Homeric readers:
- “Particular animals were, at a later time, consecrated to particular
- deities. To Jupiter, Ceres, Juno, Apollo, and Bacchus victims of
- advanced age might be offered. An ox of five years old was considered
- especially acceptable to Jupiter. A black bull, a ram, or a boar pig,
- were offerings for Neptune. A heifer, or a sheep, for Minerva. To
- Ceres a sow was sacrificed, as an enemy to corn. The goat to Bacchus,
- because he fed on vines. Diana was propitiated with a stag; and to
- Venus the dove was consecrated. The infernal and evil deities were to
- be appeased with black victims. The most acceptable of all sacrifices
- was the heifer of a year old, which had never borne the yoke. It was
- to be perfect in every limb, healthy, and without blemish.”—“Elgin
- Marbles,” vol. i. p. 78.
-
- [93] _Idomeneus_, son of Deucalion, was king of Crete. Having vowed,
- during a tempest, on his return from Troy, to sacrifice to Neptune the
- first creature that should present itself to his eye on the Cretan
- shore, his son fell a victim to his rash vow.
-
- [94] _Tydeus’ son, i.e._ Diomed.
-
- [95] That is, Ajax, the son of Oïleus, a Locrian. He must be
- distinguished from the other, who was king of Salamis.
-
- [96] A great deal of nonsense has been written to account for the word
- _unbid_, in this line. Even Plato, “Sympos.” p. 315, has found some
- curious meaning in what, to us, appears to need no explanation. Was
- there any _heroic_ rule of etiquette which prevented one brother-king
- visiting another without a formal invitation?
-
- [97] Fresh water fowl, especially swans, were found in great numbers
- about the Asian Marsh, a fenny tract of country in Lydia, formed by
- the river Cayster, near its mouth. See Virgil, “Georgics,” vol. i.
- 383, sq.
-
- [98] _Scamander_, or Scamandros, was a river of Troas, rising,
- according to Strabo, on the highest part of Mount Ida, in the same
- hill with the Granicus and the OEdipus, and falling into the sea at
- Sigaeum; everything tends to identify it with Mendere, as Wood,
- Rennell, and others maintain; the Mendere is 40 miles long, 300 feet
- broad, deep in the time of flood, nearly dry in the summer. Dr. Clarke
- successfully combats the opinion of those who make the Scamander to
- have arisen from the springs of Bounabarshy, and traces the source of
- the river to the highest mountain in the chain of Ida, now Kusdaghy;
- receives the Simois in its course; towards its mouth it is very muddy,
- and flows through marshes. Between the Scamander and Simois, Homer’s
- Troy is supposed to have stood: this river, according to Homer, was
- called Xanthus by the gods, Scamander by men. The waters of the
- Scamander had the singular property of giving a beautiful colour to
- the hair or wool of such animals as bathed in them; hence the three
- goddesses, Minerva, Juno, and Venus, bathed there before they appeared
- before Paris to obtain the golden apple: the name Xanthus, “yellow,”
- was given to the Scamander, from the peculiar colour of its waters,
- still applicable to the Mendere, the yellow colour of whose waters
- attracts the attention of travellers.
-
- [99] It should be “his _chest_ like Neptune.” The torso of Neptune, in
- the “Elgin Marbles,” No. 103, (vol. ii. p. 26,) is remarkable for its
- breadth and massiveness of development.
-
- [100] “Say first, for heav’n hides nothing from thy view.”—“Paradise
- Lost,” i. 27.
-
-“Ma di’ tu, Musa, come i primi danni
-Mandassero à Cristiani, e di quai parti:
-Tu ’l sai; ma di tant’ opra a noi si lunge
-Debil aura di fama appena giunge.”—“Gier. Lib.” iv. 19.
-
- [101] “The Catalogue is, perhaps, the portion of the poem in favour of
- which a claim to separate authorship has been most plausibly urged.
- Although the example of Homer has since rendered some such formal
- enumeration of the forces engaged, a common practice in epic poems
- descriptive of great warlike adventures, still so minute a statistical
- detail can neither be considered as imperatively required, nor perhaps
- such as would, in ordinary cases, suggest itself to the mind of a
- poet. Yet there is scarcely any portion of the Iliad where both
- historical and internal evidence are more clearly in favour of a
- connection from the remotest period, with the remainder of the work.
- The composition of the Catalogue, whensoever it may have taken place,
- necessarily presumes its author’s acquaintance with a previously
- existing Iliad. It were impossible otherwise to account for the
- harmony observable in the recurrence of so vast a number of proper
- names, most of them historically unimportant, and not a few altogether
- fictitious: or of so many geographical and genealogical details as are
- condensed in these few hundred lines, and incidentally scattered over
- the thousands which follow: equally inexplicable were the pointed
- allusions occurring in this episode to events narrated in the previous
- and subsequent text, several of which could hardly be of traditional
- notoriety, but through the medium of the Iliad.”—Mure, “Language and
- Literature of Greece,” vol. i. p. 263.
-
- [102] _Twice Sixty:_ “Thucydides observes that the Bœotian vessels,
- which carried one hundred and twenty men each, were probably meant to
- be the largest in the fleet, and those of Philoctetes, carrying fifty
- each, the smallest. The average would be eighty-five, and Thucydides
- supposes the troops to have rowed and navigated themselves; and that
- very few, besides the chiefs, went as mere passengers or landsmen. In
- short, we have in the Homeric descriptions the complete picture of an
- Indian or African war canoe, many of which are considerably larger
- than the largest scale assigned to those of the Greeks. If the total
- number of the Greek ships be taken at twelve hundred, according to
- Thucydides, although in point of fact there are only eleven hundred
- and eighty-six in the Catalogue, the amount of the army, upon the
- foregoing average, will be about a hundred and two thousand men. The
- historian considers this a small force as representing all Greece.
- Bryant, comparing it with the allied army at Platae, thinks it so
- large as to prove the entire falsehood of the whole story; and his
- reasonings and calculations are, for their curiosity, well worth a
- careful perusal.”—Coleridge, p. 211, sq.
-
- [103] The mention of Corinth is an anachronism, as that city was
- called Ephyre before its capture by the Dorians. But Velleius, vol. i.
- p. 3, well observes, that the poet would naturally speak of various
- towns and cities by the names by which they were known in his own
- time.
-
- [104] “Adam, the goodliest man of men since born, His sons, the
- fairest of her daughters Eve.’—“Paradise Lost,” iv. 323.
-
- [105] _Æsetes’ tomb_. Monuments were often built on the sea-coast, and
- of a considerable height, so as to serve as watch-towers or land
- marks. See my notes to my prose translations of the “Odyssey,” ii. p.
- 21, or on Eur. “Alcest.” vol. i. p. 240.
-
- [106] _Zeleia_, another name for Lycia. The inhabitants were greatly
- devoted to the worship of Apollo. See Muller, “Dorians,” vol. i. p.
- 248.
-
- [107] _Barbarous tongues_. “Various as were the dialects of the
- Greeks—and these differences existed not only between the several
- tribes, but even between neighbouring cities—they yet acknowledged in
- their language that they formed but one nation were but branches of
- the same family. Homer has ‘men of other tongues:’ and yet Homer had
- no general name for the Greek nation.”—Heeren, “Ancient Greece,”
- Section vii. p. 107, sq.
-
- [108] _The cranes_.
-“Marking the tracts of air, the clamorous cranes
-Wheel their due flight in varied ranks descried:
-And each with outstretch’d neck his rank maintains,
-In marshall’d order through th’ ethereal void.”
-
-Lorenzo de Medici, in Roscoe’s Life, Appendix.
-
-See Cary’s Dante: “Hell,” canto v.
-
- [109] _Silent, breathing rage._
-“Thus they,
-Breathing united force with fixed thought,
-Moved on in silence.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” book i. 559.
-
- [110] “As when some peasant in a bushy brake
-Has with unwary footing press’d a snake;
-He starts aside, astonish’d, when he spies
-His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, ii. 510.
-
- [111] Dysparis, _i.e._ unlucky, ill fated, Paris. This alludes to the
- evils which resulted from his having been brought up, despite the
- omens which attended his birth.
-
- [112] The following scene, in which Homer has contrived to introduce
- so brilliant a sketch of the Grecian warriors, has been imitated by
- Euripides, who in his “Phoenissae” represents Antigone surveying the
- opposing champions from a high tower, while the paedagogus describes
- their insignia and details their histories.
-
- [113] _No wonder_, &c. Zeuxis, the celebrated artist, is said to have
- appended these lines to his picture of Helen, as a motto. Valer Max.
- iii. 7.
-
- [114] The early epic was largely occupied with the exploits and
- sufferings of women, or heroines, the wives and daughters of the
- Grecian heroes. A nation of courageous, hardy, indefatigable women,
- dwelling apart from men, permitting only a short temporary
- intercourse, for the purpose of renovating their numbers, burning out
- their right breast with a view of enabling themselves to draw the bow
- freely; this was at once a general type, stimulating to the fancy of
- the poet, and a theme eminently popular with his hearers. We find
- these warlike females constantly reappearing in the ancient poems, and
- universally accepted as past realities in the Iliad. When Priam wishes
- to illustrate emphatically the most numerous host in which he ever
- found himself included, he tells us that it was assembled in Phrygia,
- on the banks of the Sangarius, for the purpose of resisting the
- formidable Amazons. When Bellerophon is to be employed in a deadly and
- perilous undertaking, by those who prudently wished to procure his
- death, he is despatched against the Amazons.—Grote, vol. i p. 289.
-
- [115] _Antenor_, like Æneas, had always been favourable to the
- restoration of Helen. Liv 1. 2.
-
- [116]
-“His lab’ring heart with sudden rapture seized
-He paus’d, and on the ground in silence gazed.
-Unskill’d and uninspired he seems to stand,
-Nor lifts the eye, nor graceful moves the hand:
-Then, while the chiefs in still attention hung,
-Pours the full tide of eloquence along;
-While from his lips the melting torrent flows,
-Soft as the fleeces of descending snows.
-Now stronger notes engage the listening crowd,
-Louder the accents rise, and yet more loud,
-Like thunders rolling from a distant cloud.”
-
-Merrick’s “Tryphiodorus,” 148, 99.
-
- [117] Duport, “Gnomol. Homer,” p. 20, well observes that this
- comparison may also be sarcastically applied to the _frigid_ style of
- oratory. It, of course, here merely denotes the ready fluency of
- Ulysses.
-
- [118] _Her brothers’ doom_. They perished in combat with Lynceus and
- Idas, whilst besieging Sparta. See Hygin. Poet Astr. 32, 22. Virgil
- and others, however, make them share immortality by turns.
-
- [119] Idreus was the arm-bearer and charioteer of king Priam, slain
- during this war. Cf. Æn, vi. 487.
-
- [120] _Scæa’s gates_, rather _Scæan gates_, _i.e._ the left-hand
- gates.
-
- [121] This was customary in all sacrifices. Hence we find Iras
- descending to cut off the hair of Dido, before which she could not
- expire.
-
- [122] _Nor pierced_.
-
-“This said, his feeble hand a jav’lin threw,
-Which, flutt’ring, seemed to loiter as it flew,
-Just, and but barely, to the mark it held,
-And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, ii. 742.
-
- [123] _Reveal’d the queen_.
-
-“Thus having said, she turn’d and made appear
-Her neck refulgent and dishevell’d hair,
-Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach’d the ground,
-And widely spread ambrosial scents around.
-In length of train descends her sweeping gown;
-And, by her graceful walk, the queen of love is known.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, i. 556.
-
- [124] _Cranae’s isle, i.e._ Athens. See the “Schol.” and Alberti’s
- “Hesychius,” vol. ii. p. 338. This name was derived from one of its
- early kings, Cranaus.
-
- [125] _The martial maid_. In the original, “Minerva Alalcomeneis,”
- _i.e. the defender_, so called from her temple at Alalcomene in
- Bœotia.
-
- [126] “Anything for a quiet life!”
-
- [127] —_Argos_. The worship of Juno at Argos was very celebrated in
- ancient times, and she was regarded as the patron deity of that city.
- Apul. Met., vi. p. 453; Servius on Virg. Æn., i. 28.
-
- [128] —_A wife and sister_.
-
-“But I, who walk in awful state above
-The majesty of heav’n, the sister-wife of Jove.”
-
-Dryden’s “Virgil,” i. 70.
-
-So Apuleius, _l. c._ speaks of her as “Jovis germana et conjux, and so
-Horace, Od. iii. 3, 64, “conjuge me Jovis et sorore.”
-
- [129]
-“Thither came Uriel, gleaming through the even
-On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star
-In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired
-Impress the air, and shows the mariner
-From what point of his compass to beware
-Impetuous winds.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” iv. 555.
-
- [130] _Æsepus’ flood_. A river of Mysia, rising from Mount Cotyius, in
- the southern part of the chain of Ida.
-
- [131] _Zelia_, a town of Troas, at the foot of Ida.
-
- [132] _Podaleirius_ and _Machäon_ are the leeches of the Grecian army,
- highly prized and consulted by all the wounded chiefs. Their medical
- renown was further prolonged in the subsequent poem of Arktinus, the
- Iliou Persis, wherein the one was represented as unrivalled in
- surgical operations, the other as sagacious in detecting and
- appreciating morbid symptoms. It was Podaleirius who first noticed the
- glaring eyes and disturbed deportment which preceded the suicide of
- Ajax.
-    “Galen appears uncertain whether Asklepius (as well as Dionysus)
-    was originally a god, or whether he was first a man and then became
-    afterwards a god; but Apollodorus professed to fix the exact date
-    of his apotheosis. Throughout all the historical ages the
-    descendants of Asklepius were numerous and widely diffused. The
-    many families or gentes, called Asklepiads, who devoted themselves
-    to the study and practice of medicine, and who principally dwelt
-    near the temples of Asklepius, whither sick and suffering men came
-    to obtain relief—all recognized the god not merely as the object of
-    their common worship, but also as their actual progenitor.”—Grote
-    vol. i. p. 248.
-
- [133]
-“The plant she bruises with a stone, and stands
-Tempering the juice between her ivory hands
-This o’er her breast she sheds with sovereign art
-And bathes with gentle touch the wounded part
-The wound such virtue from the juice derives,
-At once the blood is stanch’d, the youth revives.”
-
-“Orlando Furioso,” book 1.
-
- [134] _Well might I wish._
-
-“Would heav’n (said he) my strength and youth recall,
-Such as I was beneath Praeneste’s wall—
-Then when I made the foremost foes retire,
-And set whole heaps of conquer’d shields on fire;
-When Herilus in single fight I slew,
-Whom with three lives Feronia did endue.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, viii. 742.
-
- [135] _Sthenelus_, a son of Capaneus, one of the Epigoni. He was one
- of the suitors of Helen, and is said to have been one of those who
- entered Troy inside the wooden horse.
-
- [136] _Forwarn’d the horrors_. The same portent has already been
- mentioned. To this day, modern nations are not wholly free from this
- superstition.
-
- [137] _Sevenfold city_, Bœotian Thebes, which had seven gates.
-
- [138] _As when the winds_.
-
-“Thus, when a black-brow’d gust begins to rise,
-White foam at first on the curl’d ocean fries;
-Then roars the main, the billows mount the skies,
-Till, by the fury of the storm full blown,
-The muddy billow o’er the clouds is thrown.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, vii. 736.
-
- [139]
-“Stood
-Like Teneriffe or Atlas unremoved;
-His stature reach’d the sky.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” iv. 986.
-
- [140] The Abantes seem to have been of Thracian origin.
-
- [141] I may, once for all, remark that Homer is most anatomically
- correct as to the parts of the body in which a wound would be
- immediately mortal.
-
- [142] _Ænus_, a fountain almost proverbial for its coldness.
-
- [143] Compare Tasso, Gier. Lib., xx. 7:
-
-“Nuovo favor del cielo in lui niluce
-E ’l fa grande, et angusto oltre il costume.
-Gl’ empie d’ honor la faccia, e vi riduce
-Di giovinezza il bel purpureo lume.”
-
- [144]
-“Or deluges, descending on the plains,
-Sweep o’er the yellow year, destroy the pains
-Of lab’ring oxen, and the peasant’s gains;
-Uproot the forest oaks, and bear away
-Flocks, folds, and trees, an undistinguish’d prey.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil ii. 408.
-
- [145] _From mortal mists_.
-
-“But to nobler sights
-Michael from Adam’s eyes the film removed.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” xi. 411.
-
- [146] _The race of those_.
-
-“A pair of coursers, born of heav’nly breed,
-Who from their nostrils breathed ethereal fire;
-Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire,
-By substituting mares produced on earth,
-Whose wombs conceived a more than mortal birth.
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, vii. 386, sqq.
-
- [147] The belief in the existence of men of larger stature in earlier
- times, is by no means confined to Homer.
-
- [148] _Such stream, i.e._ the _ichor_, or blood of the gods.
-
-“A stream of nect’rous humour issuing flow’d,
-Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” vi. 339.
-
- [149] This was during the wars with the Titans.
-
- [150] _Amphitryon’s son_, Hercules, born to Jove by Alcmena, the wife
- of Amphitryon.
-
- [151] _Ægialé_ daughter of Adrastus. The Cyclic poets (See Anthon’s
- Lempriere, _s. v._) assert Venus incited her to infidelity, in revenge
- for the wound she had received from her husband.
-
- [152] _Pheræ_, a town of Pelasgiotis, in Thessaly.
-
- [153] _Tlepolemus_, son of Hercules and Astyochia. Having left his
- native country, Argos, in consequence of the accidental murder of
- Liscymnius, he was commanded by an oracle to retire to Rhodes. Here he
- was chosen king, and accompanied the Trojan expedition. After his
- death, certain games were instituted at Rhodes in his honour, the
- victors being rewarded with crowns of poplar.
-
- [154] These heroes’ names have since passed into a kind of proverb,
- designating the _oi polloi_ or mob.
-
- [155] _Spontaneous open_.
-
-“Veil’d with his gorgeous wings, upspringing light
-Flew through the midst of heaven; th’ angelic quires,
-On each hand parting, to his speed gave way
-Through all th’ empyreal road; till at the gate
-Of heaven arrived, the gate self-open’d wide,
-On golden hinges turning.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” v. 250.
-
- [156]
-“Till Morn,
-Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand
-Unbarr’d the gates of light.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” vi, 2.
-
- [157] _Far as a shepherd_. “With what majesty and pomp does Homer
- exalt his deities! He here measures the leap of the horses by the
- extent of the world. And who is there, that, considering the exceeding
- greatness of the space would not with reason cry out that ‘If the
- steeds of the deity were to take a second leap, the world would want
- room for it’?”—Longinus, Section 8.
-
- [158] “No trumpets, or any other instruments of sound, are used in the
- Homeric action itself; but the trumpet was known, and is introduced
- for the purpose of illustration as employed in war. Hence arose the
- value of a loud voice in a commander; Stentor was an indispensable
- officer... In the early Saracen campaigns frequent mention is made of
- the service rendered by men of uncommonly strong voices; the battle of
- Honain was restored by the shouts and menaces of Abbas, the uncle of
- Mohammed,” &c.—Coleridge, p. 213.
-
- [159] “Long had the wav’ring god the war delay’d,
-While Greece and Troy alternate own’d his aid.”
-
-Merrick’s “Tryphiodorus,” vi. 761, sq.
-
- [160] _Pæon_ seems to have been to the gods, what Podaleirius and
- Machaon were to the Grecian heroes.
-
- [161] _Arisbe_, a colony of the Mitylenaeans in Troas.
-
- [162] _Pedasus_, a town near Pylos.
-
- [163] _Rich heaps of brass_. “The halls of Alkinous and Menelaus
- glitter with gold, copper, and electrum; while large stocks of yet
- unemployed metal—gold, copper, and iron are stored up in the
- treasure-chamber of Odysseus and other chiefs. Coined money is unknown
- in the Homeric age—the trade carried on being one of barter. In
- reference also to the metals, it deserves to be remarked, that the
- Homeric descriptions universally suppose copper, and not iron, to be
- employed for arms, both offensive and defensive. By what process the
- copper was tempered and hardened, so as to serve the purpose of the
- warrior, we do not know; but the use of iron for these objects belongs
- to a later age.”—Grote, vol. ii. p. 142.
-
- [164] _Oh impotent_, &c. “In battle, quarter seems never to have been
- given, except with a view to the ransom of the prisoner. Agamemnon
- reproaches Menelaus with unmanly softness, when he is on the point of
- sparing a fallen enemy, and himself puts the suppliant to the
- sword.”—Thirlwall, vol. i. p. 181
-
- [165]
-“The ruthless steel, impatient of delay,
-Forbade the sire to linger out the day.
-It struck the bending father to the earth,
-And cropt the wailing infant at the birth.
-Can innocents the rage of parties know,
-And they who ne’er offended find a foe?”
-
-Rowe’s Lucan, bk. ii.
-
- [166]
-“Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress’d with woe,
-To Pallas’ fane in long procession go,
-In hopes to reconcile their heav’nly foe:
-They weep; they beat their breasts; they rend their hair,
-And rich embroider’d vests for presents bear.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, i. 670
-
- [167] The manner in which this episode is introduced, is well
- illustrated by the following remarks of Mure, vol. i. p.298: “The
- poet’s method of introducing his episode, also, illustrates in a
- curious manner his tact in the dramatic department of his art. Where,
- for example, one or more heroes are despatched on some commission, to
- be executed at a certain distance of time or place, the fulfilment of
- this task is not, as a general rule, immediately described. A certain
- interval is allowed them for reaching the appointed scene of action,
- which interval is dramatised, as it were, either by a temporary
- continuation of the previous narrative, or by fixing attention for a
- while on some new transaction, at the close of which the further
- account of the mission is resumed.”
-
- [168] _With tablets sealed_. These probably were only devices of a
- hieroglyphical character. Whether writing was known in the Homeric
- times is utterly uncertain. See Grote, vol ii. p. 192, sqq.
-
- [169] _Solymæan crew_, a people of Lycia.
-
- [170] From this “melancholy madness” of Bellerophon, hypochondria
- received the name of “Morbus Bellerophonteus.” See my notes in my
- prose translation, p. 112. The “Aleian field,” _i.e._ “the plain of
- wandering,” was situated between the rivers Pyramus and Pinarus, in
- Cilicia.
-
- [171] _His own, of gold_. This bad bargain has passed into a common
- proverb. See Aulus Gellius, ii, 23.
-
- [172] _Scæan, i e._ left hand.
-
- [173] _In fifty chambers_.
-
-“The fifty nuptial beds, (such hopes had he,
-So large a promise of a progeny,)
-The ports of plated gold, and hung with spoils.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, ii.658
-
- [174] _O would kind earth_, &c. “It is apparently a sudden, irregular
- burst of popular indignation to which Hector alludes, when he regrets
- that the Trojans had not spirit enough to cover Paris with a mantle of
- stones. This, however, was also one of the ordinary formal modes of
- punishment for great public offences. It may have been originally
- connected with the same feeling—the desire of avoiding the pollution
- of bloodshed—which seems to have suggested the practice of burying
- prisoners alive, with a scantling of food by their side. Though Homer
- makes no mention of this horrible usage, the example of the Roman
- Vestals affords reasons for believing that, in ascribing it to the
- heroic ages, Sophocles followed an authentic tradition.”—Thirlwall’s
- Greece, vol. i. p. 171, sq.
-
- [175] _Paris’ lofty dome_. “With respect to the private dwellings,
- which are oftenest described, the poet’s language barely enables us to
- form a general notion of their ordinary plan, and affords no
- conception of the style which prevailed in them or of their effect on
- the eye. It seems indeed probable, from the manner in which he dwells
- on their metallic ornaments that the higher beauty of proportion was
- but little required or understood, and it is, perhaps, strength and
- convenience, rather than elegance, that he means to commend, in
- speaking of the fair house which Paris had built for himself with the
- aid of the most skilful masons of Troy.”—Thirlwall’s Greece, vol. i.
- p. 231.
-
- [176] _The wanton courser_.
-
-“Come destrier, che da le regie stalle
-    Ove a l’usa de l’arme si riserba,
-Fugge, e libero al fiu per largo calle
-    Va tragl’ armenti, o al fiume usato, o a l’herba.”
-
-Gier, Lib. ix. 75.
-
- [177] _Casque_. The original word is stephanae, about the meaning of
- which there is some little doubt. Some take it for a different kind of
- cap or helmet, others for the rim, others for the cone, of the helmet.
-
- [178] _Athenian maid:_ Minerva.
-
- [179] _Celadon_, a river of Elis.
-
- [180] _Oïleus, i.e._ Ajax, the son of Oïleus, in contradistinction to
- Ajax, son of Telamon.
-
- [181] _In the general’s helm_. It was customary to put the lots into a
- helmet, in which they were well shaken up; each man then took his
- choice.
-
- [182] _God of Thrace_. Mars, or Mavors, according to his Thracian
- epithet. Hence “Mavortia Mœnia.”
-
- [183] _Grimly he smiled_.
-
-“And death
-Grinn’d horribly a ghastly smile.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” ii. 845.
-
-“There Mavors stands
-Grinning with ghastly feature.”
-
-—Carey’s Dante: Hell, v.
-
- [184]
-“Sete ò guerrieri, incomincio Pindoro,
-Con pari honor di pari ambo possenti,
-Dunque cessi la pugna, e non sian rotte
-Le ragioni, e ’l riposo, e de la notte.”
-
-—Gier. Lib. vi. 51.
-
- [185] It was an ancient style of compliment to give a larger portion
- of food to the conqueror, or person to whom respect was to be shown.
- See Virg. Æn. viii. 181. Thus Benjamin was honoured with a “double
- portion.” Gen. xliii. 34.
-
- [186] _Embattled walls._ “Another essential basis of mechanical unity
- in the poem is the construction of the rampart. This takes place in
- the seventh book. The reason ascribed for the glaring improbability
- that the Greeks should have left their camp and fleet unfortified
- during nine years, in the midst of a hostile country, is a purely
- poetical one: ‘So long as Achilles fought, the terror of his name
- sufficed to keep every foe at a distance.’ The disasters consequent on
- his secession first led to the necessity of other means of protection.
- Accordingly, in the battles previous to the eighth book, no allusion
- occurs to a rampart; in all those which follow it forms a prominent
- feature. Here, then, in the anomaly as in the propriety of the Iliad,
- the destiny of Achilles, or rather this peculiar crisis of it, forms
- the pervading bond of connexion to the whole poem.”—Mure, vol. i., p.
- 257.
-
- [187] _What cause of fear_, &c.
-
-“Seest thou not this? Or do we fear in vain
-Thy boasted thunders, and thy thoughtless reign?”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, iv. 304.
-
- [188] _In exchange_. These lines are referred to by Theophilus, the
- Roman lawyer, iii. tit. xxiii. § 1, as exhibiting the most ancient
- mention of barter.
-
- [189] “A similar bond of connexion, in the military details of the
- narrative, is the decree issued by Jupiter, at the commencement of the
- eighth book, against any further interference of the gods in the
- battles. In the opening of the twentieth book this interdict is
- withdrawn. During the twelve intermediate books it is kept steadily in
- view. No interposition takes place but on the part of the specially
- authorised agents of Jove, or on that of one or two contumacious
- deities, described as boldly setting his commands at defiance, but
- checked and reprimanded for their disobedience; while the other divine
- warriors, who in the previous and subsequent cantos are so active in
- support of their favourite heroes, repeatedly allude to the supreme
- edict as the cause of their present inactivity.”—Mure, vol. i. p 257.
- See however, Muller, “Greek Literature,” ch. v. Section 6, and Grote,
- vol. ii. p. 252.
-
- [190] “As far removed from God and light of heaven,
-As from the centre thrice to th’ utmost pole.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost.”
-
-“E quanto è da le stelle al basso inferno,
-Tanto è più in sù de la stellata spera”
-
-—Gier. Lib. i. 7.
-
-“Some of the epithets which Homer applies to the heavens seem to imply
-that he considered it as a solid vault of metal. But it is not
-necessary to construe these epithets so literally, nor to draw any such
-inference from his description of Atlas, who holds the lofty pillars
-which keep earth and heaven asunder. Yet it would seem, from the manner
-in which the height of heaven is compared with the depth of Tartarus,
-that the region of light was thought to have certain bounds. The summit
-of the Thessalian Olympus was regarded as the highest point on the
-earth, and it is not always carefully distinguished from the aerian
-regions above The idea of a seat of the gods—perhaps derived from a
-more ancient tradition, in which it was not attached to any
-geographical site—seems to be indistinctly blended in the poet’s mind
-with that of the real mountain.”—Thirlwall’s Greece, vol. i. p. 217,
-sq.
-
- [191]
-“Now lately heav’n, earth, another world
-Hung e’er my realm, link’d in a golden chain
-To that side heav’n.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” ii. 1004.
-
- [192] _His golden scales_.
-
-“Jove now, sole arbiter of peace and war,
-Held forth the fatal balance from afar:
-Each host he weighs; by turns they both prevail,
-Till Troy descending fix’d the doubtful scale.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, v 687, sqq.
-
-“Oh’ Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray,
-Hung forth in heav’n his golden scales,
-Wherein all things created first he weighed;
-The pendulous round earth, with balanced air
-In counterpoise; now ponders all events,
-Battles and realms. In these he puts two weights,
-The sequel each of parting and of fight:
-The latter quick up flew, and kick’d the beam.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” iv. 496.
-
- [193] _And now_, &c.
-
-“And now all heaven
-Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread;
-Had not th’ Almighty Father, where he sits
-... foreseen.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” vi. 669.
-
- [194] _Gerenian Nestor_. The epithet _Gerenian_ either refers to the
- name of a place in which Nestor was educated, or merely signifies
- honoured, revered. See Schol. Venet. in II. B. 336; Strabo, viii. p.
- 340.
-
- [195] _Ægae, Helicè_. Both these towns were conspicuous for their
- worship of Neptune.
-
- [196] _As full blown_, &c.
-
-“Il suo Lesbia quasi bel fior succiso,
-E in atto si gentil languir tremanti
-Gl’ occhi, e cader siu ’l tergo il collo mira.”
-
-Gier. Lib. ix. 85.
-
- [197] _Ungrateful_, because the cause in which they were engaged was
- unjust.
-
-“Struck by the lab’ring priests’ uplifted hands
-The victims fall: to heav’n they make their pray’r,
-The curling vapours load the ambient air.
-But vain their toil: the pow’rs who rule the skies
-Averse beheld the ungrateful sacrifice.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, vi. 527, sqq.
-
- [198]
-“As when about the silver moon, when aire is free from winde,
-And stars shine cleare, to whose sweet beams high prospects on the
-brows
-Of all steepe hills and pinnacles thrust up themselves for shows,
-And even the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight;
-When the unmeasured firmament bursts to disclose her light,
-And all the signs in heaven are seene, that glad the shepherd’s heart.”
-
-Chapman.
-
- [199] This flight of the Greeks, according to Buttmann, Lexil. p. 358,
- was not a supernatural flight caused by the gods, but “a great and
- general one, caused by Hector and the Trojans, but with the approval
- of Jove.”
-
- [200] Grote, vol. ii. p. 91, after noticing the modest calmness and
- respect with which Nestor addresses Agamemnon, observes, “The Homeric
- Council is a purely consultative body, assembled not with any power of
- peremptorily arresting mischievous resolves of the king, but solely
- for his information and guidance.”
-
- [201] In the heroic times, it is not unfrequent for the king to
- receive presents to purchase freedom from his wrath, or immunity from
- his exactions. Such gifts gradually became regular, and formed the
- income of the German, (Tacit. Germ. Section 15) Persian, (Herodot.
- iii.89), and other kings. So, too, in the middle ages, ‘The feudal
- aids are the beginning of taxation, of which they for a long time
- answered the purpose.’ (Hallam, Middle Ages, ch. x. pt. 1, p. 189)
- This fact frees Achilles from the apparent charge of sordidness.
- Plato, however, (De Rep. vi. 4), says, “We cannot commend Phœnix, the
- tutor of Achilles, as if he spoke correctly, when counselling him to
- accept of presents and assist the Greeks, but, without presents, not
- to desist from his wrath, nor again, should we commend Achilles
- himself, or approve of his being so covetous as to receive presents
- from Agamemnon,” &c.
-
- [202] It may be observed, that, brief as is the mention of Briseïs in
- the Iliad, and small the part she plays—what little is said is
- pre-eminently calculated to enhance her fitness to be the bride of
- Achilles. Purity, and retiring delicacy, are features well contrasted
- with the rough, but tender disposition of the hero.
-
- [203] _Laodice_. Iphianassa, or Iphigenia, is not mentioned by Homer,
- among the daughters of Agamemnon.
-
- [204] “Agamemnon, when he offers to transfer to Achilles seven towns
- inhabited by wealthy husbandmen, who would enrich their lord by
- presents and tribute, seems likewise to assume rather a property in
- them, than an authority over them. And the same thing may be intimated
- when it is said that Peleus bestowed a great people, the Dolopes of
- Phthia, on Phœnix.”—Thirlwall’s Greece, vol. i Section 6, p. 162,
- note.
-
- [205] _Pray in deep silence_. Rather: “use well-omened words;” or, as
- Kennedy has explained it, “Abstain from expressions unsuitable to the
- solemnity of the occasion, which, by offending the god, might defeat
- the object of their supplications.”
-
- [206] _Purest hands_. This is one of the most ancient superstitions
- respecting prayer, and one founded as much in nature as in tradition.
-
- [207] It must be recollected, that the war at Troy was not a settled
- siege, and that many of the chieftains busied themselves in piratical
- expeditions about its neighborhood. Such a one was that of which
- Achilles now speaks. From the following verses, it is evident that
- fruits of these maraudings went to the common support of the
- expedition, and not to the successful plunderer.
-
- [208] _Pythia_, the capital of Achilles’ Thessalian domains.
-
- [209] _Orchomenian town_. The topography of Orchomenus, in Bœotia,
- “situated,” as it was, “on the northern bank of the lake Æpais, which
- receives not only the river Cephisus from the valleys of Phocis, but
- also other rivers from Parnassus and Helicon” (Grote, vol. p. 181),
- was a sufficient reason for its prosperity and decay. “As long as the
- channels of these waters were diligently watched and kept clear, a
- large portion of the lake was in the condition of alluvial land,
- pre-eminently rich and fertile. But when the channels came to be
- either neglected, or designedly choked up by an enemy, the water
- accumulated in such a degree as to occupy the soil of more than one
- ancient islet, and to occasion the change of the site of Orchomenus
- itself from the plain to the declivity of Mount Hyphanteion.” (Ibid.)
-
- [210] The phrase “hundred gates,” &c., seems to be merely expressive
- of a great number. See notes to my prose translation, p. 162.
-
- [211] Compare the following pretty lines of Quintus Calaber (Dyce’s
- Select Translations, p 88).—
-
-“Many gifts he gave, and o’er
-Dolopia bade me rule; thee in his arms
-He brought an infant, on my bosom laid
-The precious charge, and anxiously enjoin’d
-That I should rear thee as my own with all
-A parent’s love. I fail’d not in my trust
-And oft, while round my neck thy hands were lock’d,
-From thy sweet lips the half articulate sound
-Of Father came; and oft, as children use,
-Mewling and puking didst thou drench my tunic.”
-
-“This description,” observes my learned friend (notes, p. 121) “is
-taken from the passage of Homer, II ix, in translating which, Pope,
-with that squeamish, artificial taste, which distinguished the age of
-Anne, omits the natural (and, let me add, affecting) circumstance.”
-
-“And the wine
-Held to thy lips, and many a time in fits
-Of infant frowardness the purple juice
-Rejecting thou hast deluged all my vest,
-
-And fill’d my bosom.” —Cowper.
-
- [212] _Where Calydon_. For a good sketch of the story of Meleager, too
- long to be inserted here, see Grote, vol. i. p. 195, sqq.; and for the
- authorities, see my notes to the prose translation, p. 166.
-
- [213] “_Gifts can conquer_”—It is well observed by Bishop Thirlwall,
- “Greece,” vol. i. p, 180, that the law of honour among the Greeks did
- not compel them to treasure up in their memory the offensive language
- which might be addressed to them by a passionate adversary, nor to
- conceive that it left a stain which could only be washed away by
- blood. Even for real and deep injuries they were commonly willing to
- accept a pecuniary compensation.”
-
- [214] “The boon of sleep.”—Milton
-
- [215]
-“All else of nature’s common gift partake:
-Unhappy Dido was alone awake.”
-
-—Dryden’s Virgil, iv. 767.
-
- [216] _The king of Crete:_ Idomeneus.
-
- [217] _Soft wool within, i e._ a kind of woollen stuffing, pressed in
- between the straps, to protect the head, and make the helmet fit
- close.
-
- [218] “All the circumstances of this action—the night, Rhesus buried
- in a profound sleep, and Diomede with the sword in his hand hanging
- over the head of that prince—furnished Homer with the idea of this
- fiction, which represents Rhesus lying fast asleep, and, as it were,
- beholding his enemy in a dream, plunging the sword into his bosom.
- This image is very natural; for a man in his condition awakes no
- farther than to see confusedly what environs him, and to think it not
- a reality but a dream.”—Pope.
-
-“There’s one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry’d murder;
-They wak’d each other.”
-
-—_Macbeth_.
-
- [219]
-“Aurora now had left her saffron bed,
-And beams of early light the heavens o’erspread.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, iv. 639
-
- [220] _Red drops of blood_. “This phenomenon, if a mere fruit of the
- poet’s imagination, might seem arbitrary or far-fetched. It is one,
- however, of ascertained reality, and of no uncommon occurrence in the
- climate of Greece.”—Mure, i p. 493. Cf. Tasso, Gier. Lib. ix. 15:
-
-“La terra in vece del notturno gelo
-Bagnan rugiade tepide, e sanguigne.”
-
- [221]
-“No thought of flight,
-None of retreat, no unbecoming deed
-That argued fear.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” vi. 236.
-
- [222] _One of love_. Although a bastard brother received only a small
- portion of the inheritance, he was commonly very well treated. Priam
- appears to be the only one of whom polygamy is directly asserted in
- the Iliad. Grote, vol. ii. p. 114, note.
-
- [223] “Circled with foes as when a packe of bloodie jackals cling
- About a goodly palmed hart, hurt with a hunter’s bow Whose escape his
- nimble feet insure, whilst his warm blood doth flow, And his light
- knees have power to move: but (maistred by his wound) Embost within a
- shady hill, the jackals charge him round, And teare his flesh—when
- instantly fortune sends in the powers Of some sterne lion, with whose
- sighte they flie and he devours. So they around Ulysses prest.”
-
-—Chapman.
-
- [224] _Simois, railing_, &c.
-
-“In those bloody fields
-Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields
-Of heroes.”
-
-—Dryden’s Virgil, i. 142.
-
- [225]
-“Where yon disorder’d heap of ruin lies,
-Stones rent from stones,—where clouds of dust arise,—
-Amid that smother, Neptune holds his place,
-Below the wall’s foundation drives his mace,
-And heaves the building from the solid base.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, ii. 825.
-
- [226] _Why boast we_.
-
-“Wherefore do I assume
-These royalties and not refuse to reign,
-Refusing to accept as great a share
-Of hazard as of honour, due alike to him
-Who reigns, and so much to him due
-Of hazard more, as he above the rest
-High honour’d sits.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” ii. 450.
-
- [227] _Each equal weight_.
-
-“Long time in even scale
-The battle hung.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” vi. 245.
-
- [228]
-“He on his impious foes right onward drove,
-_Gloomy as night_.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” vi. 831
-
- [229] _Renown’d for justice and for length of days_, Arrian. de Exp.
- Alex. iv. p. 239, also speaks of the independence of these people,
- which he regards as the result of their poverty and uprightness. Some
- authors have regarded the phrase “Hippomolgian,” _i.e._ “milking their
- mares,” as an epithet applicable to numerous tribes, since the oldest
- of the Samatian nomads made their mares’ milk one of their chief
- articles of diet. The epithet abion or abion, in this passage, has
- occasioned much discussion. It may mean, according as we read it,
- either “long-lived,” or “bowless,” the latter epithet indicating that
- they did not depend upon archery for subsistence.
-
- [230] Compare Chapman’s quaint, bold verses:—
-
-“And as a round piece of a rocke, which with a winter’s flood
-Is from his top torn, when a shoure poured from a bursten cloud,
-Hath broke the naturall band it had within the roughftey rock,
-Flies jumping all adourne the woods, resounding everie shocke,
-And on, uncheckt, it headlong leaps till in a plaine it stay,
-And then (tho’ never so impelled), it stirs not any way:—
-So Hector,—”
-
- [231] This book forms a most agreeable interruption to the continuous
- round of battles, which occupy the latter part of the Iliad. It is as
- well to observe, that the sameness of these scenes renders many notes
- unnecessary.
-
- [232] _Who to Tydeus owes, i.e._ Diomed.
-
- [233] Compare Tasso:—
-
-Teneri sdegni, e placide, e tranquille
-Repulse, e cari vezzi, e liete paci,
-Sorrisi, parolette, e dolci stille
-Di pianto, e sospir tronchi, e molli baci.”
-
-Gier. Lib. xvi. 25
-
- [234] Compare the description of the dwelling of Sleep in Orlando
- Furioso, bk. vi.
-
- [235]
-“Twice seven, the charming daughters of the main—
-Around my person wait, and bear my train:
-Succeed my wish, and second my design,
-The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, Æn. i. 107, seq.
-
- [236] _And Minos_. “By Homer, Minos is described as the son of
- Jupiter, and of the daughter of Phœnix, whom all succeeding authors
- name Europa; and he is thus carried back into the remotest period of
- Cretan antiquity known to the poet, apparently as a native hero,
- Illustrious enough for a divine parentage, and too ancient to allow
- his descent to be traced to any other source. But in a genealogy
- recorded by later writers, he is likewise the adopted son of Asterius,
- as descendant of Dorus, the son of Helen, and is thus connected with a
- colony said to have been led into Creta by Tentamus, or Tectamus, son
- of Dorus, who is related either to have crossed over from Thessaly, or
- to have embarked at Malea after having led his followers by land into
- Laconia.”—Thirlwall, p. 136, seq.
-
- [237] Milton has emulated this passage, in describing the couch of our
- first parents:—
-
-“Underneath the violet,
-Crocus, and hyacinth with rich inlay,
-’Broider’d the ground.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” iv. 700.
-
- [238] _He lies protected_.
-
-“Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run
-By angels many and strong, who interpos’d
-Defence, while others bore him on their shields
-Back to his chariot, where it stood retir’d
-From off the files of war; there they him laid,
-Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” vi. 335, seq.
-
- [239] _The brazen dome_. See the note on Bk. viii. Page 142.
-
- [240] _For, by the gods! who flies_. Observe the bold ellipsis of “he
- cries,” and the transition from the direct to the oblique
- construction. So in Milton:—
-
-“Thus at their shady lodge arriv’d, both stood,
-Both turn’d, and under open sky ador’d
-The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven,
-Which they beheld, the moon’s resplendent globe,
-And starry pole.—Thou also mad’st the night,
-Maker omnipotent, and thou the day.”
-
-Milton, “Paradise Lost,” Book iv.
-
- [241] _So some tall rock_.
-
-“But like a rock unmov’d, a rock that braves
-The raging tempest, and the rising waves—
-Propp’d on himself he stands: his solid sides
-Wash off the sea-weeds, and the sounding tides.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, vii. 809.
-
- [242] Protesilaus was the first Greek who fell, slain by Hector, as he
- leaped from the vessel to the Trojan shore. He was buried on the
- Chersonese, near the city of Plagusa. Hygin Fab. ciii. Tzetz. on
- Lycophr. 245, 528. There is a most elegant tribute to his memory in
- the Preface to the Heroica of Philostratus.
-
- [243] _His best beloved_. The following elegant remarks of Thirlwall
- (Greece, vol. i, p. 176 seq.) well illustrate the character of the
- friendship subsisting between these two heroes—
-    “One of the noblest and most amiable sides of the Greek character,
-    is the readiness with which it lent itself to construct intimate
-    and durable friendships, and this is a feature no less prominent in
-    the earliest than in later times. It was indeed connected with the
-    comparatively low estimation in which female society was held; but
-    the devotedness and constancy with which these attachments were
-    maintained, was not the less admirable and engaging. The heroic
-    companions whom we find celebrated partly by Homer and partly in
-    traditions which, if not of equal antiquity, were grounded on the
-    same feeling, seem to have but one heart and soul, with scarcely a
-    wish or object apart, and only to live as they are always ready to
-    die for one another. It is true that the relation between them is
-    not always one of perfect equality; but this is a circumstance
-    which, while it often adds a peculiar charm to the poetical
-    description, detracts little from the dignity of the idea which it
-    presents. Such were the friendships of Hercules and Iolaus, of
-    Theseus and Pirithous, of Orestes and Pylades; and though These may
-    owe the greater part of their fame to the later epic or even
-    dramatic poetry, the moral groundwork undoubtedly subsisted in the
-    period to which the traditions are referred. The argument of the
-    Iliad mainly turns on the affection of Achilles for Patroclus,
-    whose love for the greater hero is only tempered by reverence for
-    his higher birth and his unequalled prowess. But the mutual regard
-    which united Idomeneus and Meriones, Diomedes and Sthenelus,
-    though, as the persons themselves are less important, it is kept
-    more in the back-ground, is manifestly viewed by the poet in the
-    same light. The idea of a Greek hero seems not to have been thought
-    complete, without such a brother in arms by his side.”—Thirlwall,
-    Greece, vol. i. p. 176, seq.
-
- [244]
-“As hungry wolves with raging appetite,
-Scour through the fields, ne’er fear the stormy night—
-Their whelps at home expect the promised food,
-And long to temper their dry chaps in blood—
-So rush’d we forth at once.”
-
-—Dryden’s Virgil, ii. 479.
-
- [245] _The destinies ordain_.—“In the mythology, also, of the Iliad,
- purely Pagan as it is, we discover one important truth unconsciously
- involved, which was almost entirely lost from view amidst the nearly
- equal scepticism and credulity of subsequent ages. Zeus or Jupiter is
- popularly to be taken as omnipotent. No distinct empire is assigned to
- fate or fortune; the will of the father of gods and men is absolute
- and uncontrollable. This seems to be the true character of the Homeric
- deity, and it is very necessary that the student of Greek literature
- should bear it constantly in mind. A strong instance in the Iliad
- itself to illustrate this position, is the passage where Jupiter
- laments to Juno the approaching death of Sarpedon. ‘Alas me!’ says he
- ‘since it is fated (moira) that Sarpedon, dearest to me of men, should
- be slain by Patroclus, the son of Menoetius! Indeed, my heart is
- divided within me while I ruminate it in my mind, whether having
- snatched him up from out of the lamentable battle, I should not at
- once place him alive in the fertile land of his own Lycia, or whether
- I should now destroy him by the hands of the son of Menoetius!’ To
- which Juno answers—‘Dost thou mean to rescue from death a mortal man,
- long since destined by fate (palai pepromenon)? You may do it—but we,
- the rest of the gods, do not sanction it.’ Here it is clear from both
- speakers, that although Sarpedon is said to be fated to die, Jupiter
- might still, if he pleased, save him, and place him entirely out of
- the reach of any such event, and further, in the alternative, that
- Jupiter himself would destroy him by the hands of another.”—Coleridge,
- p. 156. seq.
-
- [246] _Thrice at the battlements_. “The art military of the Homeric
- age is upon a level with the state of navigation just described,
- personal prowess decided every thing; the night attack and the
- ambuscade, although much esteemed, were never upon a large scale. The
- chiefs fight in advance, and enact almost as much as the knights of
- romance. The siege of Troy was as little like a modern siege as a
- captain in the guards is like Achilles. There is no mention of a ditch
- or any other line or work round the town, and the wall itself was
- accessible without a ladder. It was probably a vast mound of earth
- with a declivity outwards. Patroclus thrice mounts it in armour. The
- Trojans are in no respects blockaded, and receive assistance from
- their allies to the very end.”—Coleridge, p. 212.
-
- [247] _Ciconians_.—A people of Thrace, near the Hebrus.
-
- [248] _They wept_.
-
-“Fast by the manger stands the inactive steed,
-And, sunk in sorrow, hangs his languid head;
-He stands, and careless of his golden grain,
-Weeps his associates and his master slain.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, v. 18-24.
-
-“Nothing is heard upon the mountains now,
-But pensive herds that for their master low,
-Straggling and comfortless about they rove,
-Unmindful of their pasture and their love.”
-
-Moschus, id. 3, parodied, _ibid._
-
-“To close the pomp, Æthon, the steed of state,
-Is led, the funeral of his lord to wait.
-Stripp’d of his trappings, with a sullen pace
-He walks, and the big tears run rolling down his face.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, bk. ii
-
- [249] _Some brawny bull_.
-
-“Like to a bull, that with impetuous spring
-Darts, at the moment when the fatal blow
-Hath struck him, but unable to proceed
-Plunges on either side.”
-
-—Carey’s Dante: Hell, c. xii.
-
- [250] This is connected with the earlier part of last book, the
- regular narrative being interrupted by the message of Antilochus and
- the lamentations of Achilles.
-
- [251] _Far in the deep_. So Oceanus hears the lamentations of
- Prometheus, in the play of Æschylus, and comes from the depths of the
- sea to comfort him.
-
- [252] Opuntia, a city of Locris.
-
- [253] Quintus Calaber, lib. v., has attempted to rival Homer in his
- description of the shield of the same hero. A few extracts from Mr.
- Dyce’s version (Select Translations, p. 104, seq.) may here be
- introduced.
-
-“In the wide circle of the shield were seen
-Refulgent images of various forms,
-The work of Vulcan; who had there described
-The heaven, the ether, and the earth and sea,
-The winds, the clouds, the moon, the sun, apart
-In different stations; and you there might view
-The stars that gem the still-revolving heaven,
-And, under them, the vast expanse of air,
-In which, with outstretch’d wings, the long-beak’d bird
-Winnow’d the gale, as if instinct with life.
-Around the shield the waves of ocean flow’d,
-The realms of Tethys, which unnumber’d streams,
-In azure mazes rolling o’er the earth,
-Seem’d to augment.”
-
- [254] _On seats of stone_. “Several of the old northern Sagas
- represent the old men assembled for the purpose of judging as sitting
- on great stones, in a circle called the Urtheilsring or gerichtsring”—
- Grote, ii. p. 100, note. On the independence of the judicial office in
- The heroic times, see Thirlwall’s Greece, vol. i. p. 166.
-
- [255] _Another part_, &c.
-
-“And here
-Were horrid wars depicted; grimly pale
-Were heroes lying with their slaughter’d steeds
-Upon the ground incarnadin’d with blood.
-Stern stalked Bellona, smear’d with reeking gore,
-Through charging ranks; beside her Rout was seen,
-And Terror, Discord to the fatal strife
-Inciting men, and Furies breathing flames:
-Nor absent were the Fates, and the tall shape
-Of ghastly Death, round whom did Battles throng,
-Their limbs distilling plenteous blood and sweat;
-And Gorgons, whose long locks were twisting snakes.
-That shot their forky tongues incessant forth.
-Such were the horrors of dire war.”
-
-—Dyce’s Calaber.
-
- [256] _A field deep furrowed_.
-
-“Here was a corn field; reapers in a row,
-Each with a sharp-tooth’d sickle in his hand,
-Work’d busily, and, as the harvest fell,
-Others were ready still to bind the sheaves:
-Yoked to a wain that bore the corn away
-The steers were moving; sturdy bullocks here
-The plough were drawing, and the furrow’d glebe
-Was black behind them, while with goading wand
-The active youths impell’d them. Here a feast
-Was graved: to the shrill pipe and ringing lyre
-A band of blooming virgins led the dance.
-As if endued with life.”
-—Dyce’s Calaber.
-
- [257] Coleridge (Greek Classic Poets, p. 182, seq.) has diligently
- compared this with the description of the shield of Hercules by
- Hesiod. He remarks that, “with two or three exceptions, the imagery
- differs in little more than the names and arrangements; and the
- difference of arrangement in the Shield of Hercules is altogether for
- the worse. The natural consecution of the Homeric images needs no
- exposition: it constitutes in itself one of the beauties of the work.
- The Hesiodic images are huddled together without connection or
- congruity: Mars and Pallas are awkwardly introduced among the Centaurs
- and Lapithae;— but the gap is wide indeed between them and Apollo with
- the Muses, waking the echoes of Olympus to celestial harmonies; whence
- however, we are hurried back to Perseus, the Gorgons, and other images
- of war, over an arm of the sea, in which the sporting dolphins, the
- fugitive fishes, and the fisherman on the shore with his casting net,
- are minutely represented. As to the Hesiodic images themselves, the
- leading remark is, that they catch at beauty by ornament, and at
- sublimity by exaggeration; and upon the untenable supposition of the
- genuineness of this poem, there is this curious peculiarity, that, in
- the description of scenes of rustic peace, the superiority of Homer is
- decisive—while in those of war and tumult it may be thought, perhaps,
- that the Hesiodic poet has more than once the advantage.”
-
- [258] “This legend is one of the most pregnant and characteristic in
- the Grecian Mythology; it explains, according to the religious ideas
- familiar to the old epic poets, both the distinguishing attributes and
- the endless toil and endurances of Heracles, the most renowned
- subjugator of all the semi-divine personages worshipped by the
- Hellenes,—a being of irresistible force, and especially beloved by
- Zeus, yet condemned constantly to labour for others and to obey the
- commands of a worthless and cowardly persecutor. His recompense is
- reserved to the close of his career, when his afflicting trials are
- brought to a close: he is then admitted to the godhead, and receives
- in marriage Hebe.”—Grote, vol. i. p. 128.
-
- [259] _Ambrosia_.
-
-“The blue-eyed maid,
-In ev’ry breast new vigour to infuse.
-Brings nectar temper’d with ambrosial dews.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, vi. 249.
-
- [260] “Hell is naked before him, and destruction hath no covering. He
- stretcheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth
- upon nothing. He bindeth up the waters in his thick clouds; and the
- cloud is not rent under them.” Job xxvi. 6-8.
-
- [261]
-“Swift from his throne the infernal monarch ran,
-All pale and trembling, lest the race of man,v Slain by Jove’s wrath,
-and led by Hermes’ rod,
-Should fill (a countless throng!) his dark abode.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, vi. 769, sqq.
-
- [262] These words seem to imply the old belief, that the Fates might
- be delayed, but never wholly set aside.
-
- [263] It was anciently believed that it was dangerous, if not fatal,
- to behold a deity. See Exod. xxxiii. 20; Judg. xiii. 22.
-
- [264]
-“Ere Ilium and the Trojan tow’rs arose,
-In humble vales they built their soft abodes.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, iii. 150.
-
- [265] _Along the level seas_. Compare Virgil’s description of Camilla,
- who
-
-“Outstripp’d the winds in speed upon the plain,
-Flew o’er the field, nor hurt the bearded grain:
-She swept the seas, and, as she skimm’d along,
-Her flying feet unbathed on billows hung.”
-
-Dryden, vii. 1100.
-
- [266] _The future father_. “Æneas and Antenor stand distinguished from
- the other Trojans by a dissatisfaction with Priam, and a sympathy with
- the Greeks, which is by Sophocles and others construed as treacherous
- collusion,—a suspicion indirectly glanced at, though emphatically
- repelled, in the Æneas of Virgil.”—Grote, i. p. 427.
-
- [267] Neptune thus recounts his services to Æneas:
-
-“When your Æneas fought, but fought with odds
-Of force unequal, and unequal gods:
-I spread a cloud before the victor’s sight,
-Sustain’d the vanquish’d, and secured his flight—
-Even then secured him, when I sought with joy
-The vow’d destruction of ungrateful Troy.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, v. 1058.
-
- [268] _On Polydore_. Euripides, Virgil, and others, relate that
- Polydore was sent into Thrace, to the house of Polymestor, for
- protection, being the youngest of Priam’s sons, and that he was
- treacherously murdered by his host for the sake of the treasure sent
- with him.
-
- [269] “Perhaps the boldest excursion of Homer into this region of
- poetical fancy is the collision into which, in the twenty-first of the
- Iliad, he has brought the river god Scamander, first with Achilles,
- and afterwards with Vulcan, when summoned by Juno to the hero’s aid.
- The overwhelming fury of the stream finds the natural interpretation
- in the character of the mountain torrents of Greece and Asia Minor.
- Their wide, shingly beds are in summer comparatively dry, so as to be
- easily forded by the foot passenger. But a thunder-shower in the
- mountains, unobserved perhaps by the traveller on the plain, may
- suddenly immerse him in the flood of a mighty river. The rescue of
- Achilles by the fiery arms of Vulcan scarcely admits of the same ready
- explanation from physical causes. Yet the subsiding of the flood at
- the critical moment when the hero’s destruction appeared imminent,
- might, by a slight extension of the figurative parallel, be ascribed
- to a god symbolic of the influences opposed to all atmospheric
- moisture.”—Mure, vol. i. p. 480, sq.
-
- [270] Wood has observed, that “the circumstance of a falling tree,
- which is described as reaching from one of its banks to the other,
- affords a very just idea of the breadth of the Scamander.”
-
- [271] _Ignominious_. Drowning, as compared with a death in the field
- of battle, was considered utterly disgraceful.
-
- [272] _Beneath a caldron_.
-
-“So, when with crackling flames a caldron fries,
-The bubbling waters from the bottom rise.
-Above the brims they force their fiery way;
-Black vapours climb aloft, and cloud the day.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, vii. 644.
-
- [273] “This tale of the temporary servitude of particular gods, by
- order of Jove, as a punishment for misbehaviour, recurs not
- unfrequently among the incidents of the Mythical world.”—Grote, vol.
- i. p. 156.
-
- [274] _Not half so dreadful_.
-
-“On the other side,
-Incensed with indignation, Satan stood
-Unterrified, and like a comet burn’d,
-That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
-In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
-Shakes pestilence and war.”
-
-—“Paradise Lost,” xi. 708.
-
- [275] “And thus his own undaunted mind explores.”—“Paradise Lost,” vi.
- 113.
-
- [276] The example of Nausicaa, in the Odyssey, proves that the duties
- of the laundry were not thought derogatory, even from the dignity of a
- princess, in the heroic times.
-
- [277] _Hesper shines with keener light_.
-
-“Fairest of stars, last in the train of night,
-If better thou belong not to the dawn.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” v. 166.
-
- [278] Such was his fate. After chasing the Trojans into the town, he
- was slain by an arrow from the quiver of Paris, directed under the
- unerring auspices of Apollo. The greatest efforts were made by the
- Trojans to possess themselves of the body, which was however rescued
- and borne off to the Grecian camp by the valour of Ajax and Ulysses.
- Thetis stole away the body, just as the Greeks were about to burn it
- with funeral honours, and conveyed it away to a renewed life of
- immortality in the isle of Leuke in the Euxine.
-
- [279] _Astyanax_, i.e. the _city-king_ or guardian. It is amusing that
- Plato, who often finds fault with Homer without reason, should have
- copied this twaddling etymology into his Cratylus.
-
- [280] This book has been closely imitated by Virgil in his fifth book,
- but it is almost useless to attempt a selection of passages for
- comparison.
-
- [281] _Thrice in order led_. This was a frequent rite at funerals. The
- Romans had the same custom, which they called _decursio_. Plutarch
- states that Alexander, in after times, renewed these same honours to
- the memory of Achilles himself.
-
- [282] _And swore_. Literally, and called Orcus, the god of oaths, to
- witness. See Buttmann, Lexilog, p. 436.
-
- [283]
-“O, long expected by thy friends! from whence
-Art thou so late return’d for our defence?
-Do we behold thee, wearied as we are
-With length of labours, and with, toils of war?
-After so many funerals of thy own,
-Art thou restored to thy declining town?
-But say, what wounds are these? what new disgrace
-Deforms the manly features of thy face?”
-
-Dryden, xi. 369.
-
- [284] _Like a thin smoke_. Virgil, Georg. iv. 72.
-
-“In vain I reach my feeble hands to join
-In sweet embraces—ah! no longer thine!
-She said, and from his eyes the fleeting fair
-Retired, like subtle smoke dissolved in air.”
-
-Dryden.
-
- [285] So Milton:—
-
-“So eagerly the fiend
-O’er bog, o’er steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
-With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,
-And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.”
-
-“Paradise Lost,” ii. 948.
-
- [286]
-“An ancient forest, for the work design’d
-(The shady covert of the savage kind).
-The Trojans found: the sounding axe is placed:
-Firs, pines, and pitch-trees, and the tow’ring pride
-Of forest ashes, feel the fatal stroke,
-And piercing wedges cleave the stubborn oak.
-High trunks of trees, fell’d from the steepy crown
-Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, vi. 261.
-
- [287] _He vowed_. This was a very ancient custom.
-
- [288] The height of the tomb or pile was a great proof of the dignity
- of the deceased, and the honour in which he was held.
-
- [289] On the prevalence of this cruel custom amongst the northern
- nations, see Mallet, p. 213.
-
- [290] _And calls the spirit_. Such was the custom anciently, even at
- the Roman funerals.
-
-“Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again,
-Paternal ashes, now revived in vain.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, v. 106.
-
- [291] Virgil, by making the boaster vanquished, has drawn a better
- moral from this episode than Homer. The following lines deserve
- comparison:—
-
-“The haughty Dares in the lists appears:
-Walking he strides, his head erected bears:
-His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield,
-And loud applauses echo through the field.
-* * * *
-Such Dares was, and such he strode along,
-And drew the wonder of the gazing throng
-His brawny breast and ample chest he shows;
-His lifted arms around his head he throws,
-And deals in whistling air his empty blows.
-His match is sought, but, through the trembling band,
-No one dares answer to the proud demand.
-Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes,
-Already he devours the promised prize.
-* * * *
-If none my matchless valour dares oppose,
-How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes?”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, v. 486, seq.
-
- [292]
-“The gauntlet-fight thus ended, from the shore
-His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore:
-His mouth and nostrils pour’d a purple flood,
-And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood.”
-
-Dryden’s Virgil, v. 623.
-
- [293] “Troilus is only once named in the Iliad; he was mentioned also
- in the Cypriad but his youth, beauty, and untimely end made him an
- object of great interest with the subsequent poets.”—Grote, i, p. 399.
-
- [294] Milton has rivalled this passage describing the descent of
- Gabriel, “Paradise Lost,” bk. v. 266, seq.
-
-“Down thither prone in flight
-He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky
-Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing,
-Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan
-Winnows the buxom air. * * * *
-* * * *
-At once on th’ eastern cliff of Paradise
-He lights, and to his proper shape returns
-A seraph wing’d. * * * *
-Like Maia’s son he stood,
-And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance fill’d
-The circuit wide.”
-
-Virgil, Æn. iv. 350:—
-
-“Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds
-His flying feet, and mounts the western winds:
-And whether o’er the seas or earth he flies,
-With rapid force they bear him down the skies
-But first he grasps within his awful hand
-The mark of sovereign power, his magic wand;
-With this he draws the ghost from hollow graves;
-With this he drives them from the Stygian waves:
-* * * *
-Thus arm’d, the god begins his airy race,v And drives the racking
-clouds along the liquid space.”
-
-Dryden.
-
- [295] In reference to the whole scene that follows, the remarks of
- Coleridge are well worth reading:—
-    “By a close study of life, and by a true and natural mode of
-    expressing everything, Homer was enabled to venture upon the most
-    peculiar and difficult situations, and to extricate himself from
-    them with the completest success. The whole scene between Achilles
-    and Priam, when the latter comes to the Greek camp for the purpose
-    of redeeming the body of Hector, is at once the most profoundly
-    skilful, and yet the simplest and most affecting passage in the
-    Iliad. Quinctilian has taken notice of the following speech of
-    Priam, the rhetorical artifice of which is so transcendent, that if
-    genius did not often, especially in oratory, unconsciously fulfil
-    the most subtle precepts of criticism, we might be induced, on this
-    account alone, to consider the last book of the Iliad as what is
-    called spurious, in other words, of later date than the rest of the
-    poem. Observe the exquisite taste of Priam in occupying the mind of
-    Achilles, from the outset, with the image of his father; in
-    gradually introducing the parallel of his own situation; and,
-    lastly, mentioning Hector’s name when he perceives that the hero is
-    softened, and then only in such a manner as to flatter the pride of
-    the conqueror. The ego d’eleeinoteros per, and the apusato aecha
-    geronta, are not exactly like the tone of the earlier parts of the
-    Iliad. They are almost too fine and pathetic. The whole passage
-    defies translation, for there is that about the Greek which has no
-    name, but which is of so fine and ethereal a subtlety that it can
-    only be felt in the original, and is lost in an attempt to
-    transfuse it into another language.”—Coleridge, p. 195.
-
- [296] “Achilles’ ferocious treatment of the corpse of Hector cannot
- but offend as referred to the modern standard of humanity. The heroic
- age, however, must be judged by its own moral laws. Retributive
- vengeance on the dead, as well as the living, was a duty inculcated by
- the religion of those barbarous times which not only taught that evil
- inflicted on the author of evil was a solace to the injured man; but
- made the welfare of the soul after death dependent on the fate of the
- body from which it had separated. Hence a denial of the rites
- essential to the soul’s admission into the more favoured regions of
- the lower world was a cruel punishment to the wanderer on the dreary
- shores of the infernal river. The complaint of the ghost of Patroclus
- to Achilles, of but a brief postponement of his own obsequies, shows
- how efficacious their refusal to the remains of his destroyer must
- have been in satiating the thirst of revenge, which, even after death,
- was supposed to torment the dwellers in Hades. Hence before yielding
- up the body of Hector to Priam, Achilles asks pardon of Patroclus for
- even this partial cession of his just rights of retribution.”—Mure,
- vol. i. 289.
-
- [297] Such was the fate of Astyanax, when Troy was taken.
-
-“Here, from the tow’r by stern Ulysses thrown,
-Andromache bewail’d her infant son.”
-
-Merrick’s Tryphiodorus, v. 675.
-
- [298] The following observations of Coleridge furnish a most gallant
- and interesting view of Helen’s character—
-    “Few things are more interesting than to observe how the same hand
-    that has given us the fury and inconsistency of Achilles, gives us
-    also the consummate elegance and tenderness of Helen. She is
-    through the Iliad a genuine lady, graceful in motion and speech,
-    noble in her associations, full of remorse for a fault for which
-    higher powers seem responsible, yet grateful and affectionate
-    towards those with whom that fault had committed her. I have always
-    thought the following speech in which Helen laments Hector, and
-    hints at her own invidious and unprotected situation in Troy, as
-    almost the sweetest passage in the poem. It is another striking
-    instance of that refinement of feeling and softness of tone which
-    so generally distinguish the last book of the Iliad from the
-    rest.”—Classic Poets, p. 198, seq.
-
- [299] “And here we part with Achilles at the moment best calculated to
- exalt and purify our impression of his character. We had accompanied
- him through the effervescence, undulations, and final subsidence of
- his stormy passions. We now leave him in repose and under the full
- influence of the more amiable affections, while our admiration of his
- great qualities is chastened by the reflection that, within a few
- short days the mighty being in whom they were united was himself to be
- suddenly cut off in the full vigour of their exercise.
-    The frequent and touching allusions, interspersed throughout the
-    Iliad, to the speedy termination of its hero’s course, and the
-    moral on the vanity of human life which they indicate, are among
-    the finest evidences of the spirit of ethic unity by which the
-    whole framework of the poem is united.”—Mure, vol. i. p 201.
-
- [300] Cowper says,—“I cannot take my leave of this noble poem without
- expressing how much I am struck with the plain conclusion of it. It is
- like the exit of a great man out of company, whom he has entertained
- magnificently; neither pompous nor familiar; not contemptuous, yet
- without much ceremony.” Coleridge, p. 227, considers the termination
- of “Paradise Lost” somewhat similar.
-
-
-
-
-
-
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+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
+Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
+Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right.
+At thy demand shall I restore the maid?
+First let the just equivalent be paid;
+Such as a king might ask; and let it be
+A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
\ No newline at end of file
diff --git a/pope-iliad.txt.txt b/pope-iliad.txt.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0a95b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/pope-iliad.txt.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+Then thus the king: “Shall I my prize resign
+With tame content, and thou possess’d of thine?
+Great as thou art, and like a god in fight,
+Think not to rob me of a soldier’s right.
+At thy demand shall I restore the maid?
+First let the just equivalent be paid;
+Such as a king might ask; and let it be
+A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
\ No newline at end of file