Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear; Eager he feizes and devours the flain,

30

35

Preft by bold youths and baying dogs in vain. 40
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 fenfe, retires behind,
45
And shuns the fate he well deferves to find.
As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees
Shot forth to view, a fcaly ferpent fees;
Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright,
And all confus'd precipitates his flight:
So from the king the thining warriour flies,
And plung'd amid the thickeft Trojans lies.

50

55

As God-like Hector fees the prince retreat, He thus upbraids him with a generous heat : Unhappy Paris! but to women brave! So fairly form'd, and only to deceive! Oh, hadst thou died when first thou faw'ft the light,

When Greece beheld thy painted canvass flow, And crowds ftood wondering at the paffing show;

Say, was it thus, with fuch a baffled mien,
You met th' approaches of the Spartan queen, 70
Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous
prize,

And both her warlike lords outfhin'd in He. len's eres?

This deed, thy foes de'ight, thy own difgrace,
Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race;
This deed recalls thee to the proffer'd fight; 73
Or haft thou injur'd whom thou dar'ft not right?
Soon to the coft the field would make thee know
Thou keep'ft the confort of a braver foe.
Thy graceful form in tilling foft defire,
Thy curling trefles, and thy fi'ver lyre,
Beauty and youth; in vain to these you trust,
When youth and beauty fhell be laid in duft:
Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow
Crush the dire author of his country's woe.

80

His filence here, with bluthes, Paris breaks; 85

'Tis juft, my brother, what your anger fpeaks;
But who like thee can boaft a foul fedate,
So firmly proof to all the thocks of fate?
Thy force like steel a temper'd hardness shows,
Still edg'd to wound, and still untir'd with blows,
50

Like ftee', uplifted by fome ftrenuous fwain,
With falling woods to ftrow the wafted plain:
Thy gifts I praife; nor thou defpife the charms
With which a lover golden Venus arms;
Soft moving speech, and pleafing outward show,
95

No wifh can gain them, but the Gods bestow. Yet, would't thou have the proffer'd combat ftand,

The Greeks and Trojans feat on either hand;
Then let a midway space our hofts divide,
And on that stage of war the cause be tri'd: 100
By Paris there the Spartan king be fought,
For beauteous Helen and the wealth fhe brought:
And who his rival can in arms fubdue,
His be the fair, and his the treafure too.
Thus with a lafting league your toils may ceafe,
105

And Troy poffefs her fertile fields in peace;
Thus may the Greeks review their native fhore.
Much fam'd for generous steeds, for beauty more.
He faid. The challenge Hector heard with
joy,

Then with his fpear restrain'd the youth of Troy,

1:0

Held by the midst, athwart; and near the foe
Advanc'd with steps majestically flow:
While round his dauntlefs head the Grecians
pour

Their ftones and arrows in a mingled shower. Then thus the monarch great Atrides cri'd:

135

140

145

A world engages in the toils of fight.
To me the labour of the field defign;
Me Paris injur'd; all the war be mine.
Fall he that muft, beneath his rival's arms;
And live the rest, secure of future harms.
Two lambs, devoted by your country's rite,
To Earth a fable, to the Sun a white,
Prepare, ye Trojans! while a third we bring
Select to Jove, th' inviolable king.
Let reverend Priam in the truce engage,
And add the fanction of confiderate age;
His fons are faithlefs, headlong in debate,
And youth itfelf an empty wavering ftate:
Cool age advances venerably wife,
Turns on all hands its deep-difcerning eyes; 150
Sees what befel, and what may yet befall,
Concludes from both, and beft provides for all.
The nations hear, with rifing hopes poffeft,
And peaceful profpects dawn in every breast.
Within the lines they drew their fteeds around,

165

The various Goddess of the rain-bow flies
(Like fair Laodicè in form and face,
The lovelieft nymph of Priam's royal race).
Her in the palace, at her loom the found;
The golden web her own fad story crown'd.
The Trojan wars the weav'd (hei felf the prize)
And the dire triumph of her fatal eyes.
To whom the Goddefs of the painted bow;
Approach and view the wondrous fcenes below!
Each hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight,
Se dreadful late, and furious for the fight,

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180

Now reft their fpears, or lean upon their fhields;
Ceas'd is the war, and filent all the fields.
Paris alone and Sparta's king advance,
In fingle fight to tofs the beamy lance;
Each met in arms, the fate of combat tries,
Thy love the motive, and thy charms the prize.
This faid, the many colour'd maid infpires
Her husband's love, and wakes her former fires;
Her country, parents, all that once were dear,
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190

Rush to her thoughts, and force a tender tear.
O'er her fair face a snowy veil fhe threw,
And, foftly fighing, from the loom withdrew :
Her handmaids Clymenè and Athra wait
Her filent footsteps to the Scæan gate.
There fat the feniors of the Trojan race.
(Old Priam's chiefs, and most in Priam's grace)
The king the firft; Thymotes at his fide;
Lampus and Clytius, long in council try'd;
Panthus, and Hicetäon, once the strong;
And next, the wifeft of the reverend throng,
Antenor grave, and fage Ucalegon,
Lean'd on the walls, and bafk'd before the fun.
Chiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage,
But wife through time, and narrative with age,

195

The good old Priam welcom❜d her, and cried, Approach, my child, and grace thy father's fide. See on the plain thy Grecian spouse appears, The friends and kindred of thy former years. No crime of thine our prefent fufferings draws, 215

220

Not thou, but Heaven's difpofing will, the caufe;
The Gods thefe armies and this force employ,
The hoftile Gods confpire the fate of Troy.
But lift thy eyes, and fay, what Greek is he
(Far as from hence thefe aged orbs can fee)
Around whofe brow fuch martial graces thine,
So tell, fo awful, and almoft divine!
Though fome of larger stature tread the green,
None match his grandeur and exalted mien:
He feems a monarch, and his country's pride,

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230

Thus ceas'd the king; and thus the fair replied:
Before thy prefence, father, I appear
With confcious fhame and reverential fear.
Ah! had I died, ere to thefe walls I fled,
Falfe to my country and my nuptial bed;
My brothers, friends, and daughter left behind,
Falfe to them all, to Paris only kind?
For this I mourn, till grief or dire difeafe
Shall wafte the form, whofe crime it was to please.
The king of kings, Atrides, you furvey,
Great in the war, and great in arts of iway:

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35

My brother once, before my days of fhame; And oh that ftill he bore a brother's name!

240

With wonder Priam view'd the god-like man,
Extoll'd the happy prince, and thus began:
O bleft Atrides! born to profperous fate,
Successful monarch of a mighty state!
How vait thy empire! Of yon matchless train
What numbers loft, what numbers yet remain ?
In Phrygia once were gal ant armies known, 245
In ancient time, when Otreus fill'd the throne,
When god-like Mygdon led their troops of horse,
And I, to join them, rais'd the Trojan force :
Against the manlike Amazons we ftood,
And Sangar's ftream ran purple with their blood.
250

But far inferior those, in martial grace
And strength of numbers, to this Grecian race.
This faid, once more he view'd the warriour-
train:

What's he whofe arms lie fcatter'd on the plain;
Broad is his breast, his fhoulders larger spread,

255

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, mafter of the flock, furveys them round.

260

Then Helen thus: Whom your difcerning eyes Have fingled out, is Ithacus the wife: A barren island boasts his glorious birth: His fame for wifdom fills the fpacious earth.

Antenor took the word, and thus began: 265 Myfelf, O king! have feen that wond'rous man: When, trufting Jove and hofpitable laws, To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause; (Great Menelaus urg'd the fame request)

My houfe was honour'd with each royal gueft :

270

295.

vain;

310

So fpoke the fair, nor knew her brothers' doom,

315

Wrapt in the cold embraces of the tomb;
Adorn'd with honours in their native fhore,
Silent they flept, and heard of wars no more.
Meantime the heralds, through the crowded
town,
Bring the rich wine and deftin'd victims down.
Idæus' arms the golden goblets preft,
Who thus the venerable king addrest:
Arife, O father of the Trojan state!
The nations call, thy joyful people wait,
To feal the truce, and end the dire debate.
Paris thy fon, and Sparta's king advance,
In meafur'd lifts to tofs the weighty lance;
And who his rival fhall in arms fubdue
His be the dame, and his the treasure too.
Thus with a lafting le gue our toils may ceafe,
And Troy poffefs her fertile fields in peace;
So fhall the Greeks review their native shore,
Much fam'd for generous fteeds, for beauty

The wine they mix, and on each monarch's hands

Pour the full urn; then draws the Grecian lord
His cutlace fheath'd befide his ponderous fword;
From the fign'd victims crops the curling hair,
The heralds part it, and the princes share;
Then loudly thus before th' attentive bands
He calls the Gods, and fpreads his lifted hands:
345
O first and greatest power! whom all obey,
Who high on Ida's holy mountain fway,
Eternal Jove and you bright orb that roll
From caft to weft, and view from pole to pole!

E 2

Thon mother Earth! and all ye living Floods!

350

Infernal Furies and Tartarian Gods,
Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare
For perjur'd kings, and all who falfely fwear!
Hear, and he witnefs. If, by Paris flain,
Great Menelaus prefs the fatal plain ;-
The dame and treafures let the Trojan keep,
And Greece returning plow the watery deep.
If by my brother's lance the Trojan bleed;
Be his the wealth and beauteous dame decreed :
Th' appointed fine let Ilion juftiy pay,
And every age record the fignal day.
Thus if the Phrygians fhall refufe to yield,
Arms m.ft revenge, and Mars decide the field.
With that the chief the tender victims flew,
And in the duft their bleeding bodies threw. 365
The vital fpirit iffued at the wound,

360

And left the members quivering on the ground. From the fame urn they drink the mingled wine, And add libations to the powers divine.

While thus their prayers united mount the sky;

Ye Greeks and Trojans, let the chiefs engage, 380

Put fpare the weak nefs of my feeble age:
In yonder walls that object let me thun,
Nor view the danger of fo dear a fen.
Whofe arms fhall conquer, and what prince fhall
fall,

Heaven only knows, for Heaven difpofes all. 385
This faid, the hoary king no longer flay'd,
But on his car the flaug ter'd victims laid;
Then feiz'd the reins his gentle steeds to guide,
And drove to Troy, Antenor at his fide.

Bold fiector and Ulyffes now difpofe
The lifts of combat, and the ground inclose :
Next to decide by facred lots prepare,
Who firft thall launch his pointed fpear in air.
The people pray with elevated hands,

399

And words like thefe are heard through all the bands.

Immortal Jove, high heaven's fuperiour lord,
On lofty Ida's holy mount ador'd!
Whoe'er involv'd us in th's dire debate,

Oh give that author of the war to fate

And thades eternal! let divifion ceafe,

395

400

410

415

The beauteous warriour now arrays for fight,
In gilded arms magnificently bright:
The purple cuites clafp his thighs around,
With flowers adorn'd, and filver buckles bound:
Lycaon's corfciet his fair body dreft,
Brac'd in, and fitted to his fofter breaft:
A radiant baldric, o'er his thoulder ty'd,
Suftain'd the fword that glitter'd at his fide:
His youthful face a polish'd helm o'er ipread;
The waving hofe-hair nodded on his head;
His figur'd shield, a fhining orb, he takes,
And in his hand a pointed javelin fhakes.
With equal speed, and fir'd by equal charms,
The Spartan hero theaths his limbs in arms.

420

Now round the lifts th' admiring armies ftand, With javelins fix'd, the Greek and Trojan band. Amidst the dreadful vale, the chiefs advance 425 All pale with rage, and shake the threatening lance.

The Trojan fieft his fhining javelin threw ;
Full on Atrides' ringing thield it flew ;
Nor pierc'd the brazen orb, but with a bound
Leap'd from the buckler, blunted on the ground.

430

Atrides then his maffy lance prepares,
In act to throw, but firft prefers his prayers:
Give me, great Jove! to punish lawless luft,
And lay the Trojan gafping in the duft!
Destroy th' aggreffor, aid my righteous caufe, 435
Avenge the breach of hotpitable laws,
Let this example future times reclaim,
And guard from wrong fair friendship's holy

name.

He faid, and pois'd in air the javelin fent, Through Paris' fhield the forceful weapon went,

Full on his cafque; the crefted he1met shook;
The brittle steel, unfaithful to his hand,
Broke fhort: the fragments glitter'd on the fand,
The raging warriour to the fpacious skies
Rais'd his upbraiding voice, and angry eyes: 450
Then is it vain in love himself to truft?
And is it thus the Gods affift the juft?

When crimes provoke us, Heaven fuccefs denies ; The dart falls harmlefs, and the faulchion flies. Furious he faid, and tow'rd the Grecian crew 455 (Seiz'd by the creft) th' unhappy warriour drew; Struggling he follow'd, while th' embroider'd thong,

That ty'd his helmet, dragg'd the chief along.
Then had his ruin crown'd Atrides' joy,
But Venus trembled for the prince of Troy: 460
Unfeen the came, and burst the golden band;
And left an empty helmet in his hand.
The cafque, enrag'd, amidst the Greeks he

threw ;

The Greeks with fmiles the polifh'd trophy view. Then, as once more he lifts the deadly dart, 465 In thirst of vengeance, at his rival's heart,