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He said: nor less elate with martial joy, The rushing entrails, pour'd upon the ground, The godlike Hector warm'd the troops of Troy. His hands collect; and darkness wraps him round. Trojans to war! think Hector leads you on; When Hector view'd, all ghastly in his gore, Nor dread the vaunts of Peleus' haughty son. Thus sadly slain, the unhappy Polydore, Deeds must decide our fate. E'en those with words A cloud of sorrow overcast his sight, Insult the brave who tremble at their swords: 420 His soul no longer brook'd the distant fight; The weakest atheist-wretch all heaven defies, Full in Achilles' dreadful front he came, But shrinks and shudders when the thunder flies. And shook his javelin like a waving flame. 490 Nor from yon boaster shall your chief retire, The son of Peleus sees with joy possess’d, Not though his heart were steel, his hand were fire; His heart high-bounding in his rising breast : That fire, that steel, your Hector should withstand, And, lo! the man on whom black fates attend, And brave that vengeful heart, that dreadful hand. The man that slew Achilles in his friend!

Thus (breathing rage through all) the hero said; No more shall Hector's and Pelides' spear A wood of lances rises round his head,

Turn from each other in the walks of warClamours on clamours tempest all the air, Then with revengeful eyes he scann'd him o'er : They join, they throng, they thicken to the war. 430 Come and receive thy fate! he spake no more. But Phæbus warns him from high heaven to shun Hector undaunted thus : Such words employ The single fight with Thetis' godlike son; To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike boy: 500 More safe to combat in the mingled band,

Such we could give, defying, and defied, Nor tempt too near the terrors of his hand. Mean intercourse of obloquy and pride! He hears obedient to the god of light,

I know thy force to mine superior far;
And plunged within the ranks awaits the fight. But Heaven alone confers success in war:

Then fierce Achilles shouting to the skies, Mean as I am, the gods may guide my dart,
On Troy's whole force with boundless fury flies. And give it entrance in a braver heart.
First falls Iphytion at his army's head;

Then parts the lance : but Pallas' heavenly breath
Brave was the chief, and brave the host he led ; 440 Far from Achilles wafts the winged death :
From great Otrynteus he derived his blood : The bidden dart again to Hector flies,
His mother was a Naïs of the flood :

And at the feet of its great master lies.

510 Beneath the shades of Tmolus crown'd with snow, Achilles closes with his hated foe, From Hydè's walls be ruled the lands below. His heart and eyes with flaming fury glow : Fierce as he springs the sword his head divides ; But present to his aid, Apollo shrouds The parted visage falls on equal sides :

The favour'd hero in a veil of clouds. With loud-resounding arms he strikes the plain; Thrice struck Pelides with indignant heart, While thus Achilles glories o'er the slain:

Thrice in impassive air he plunged the dart : Lie there, Otryntides ! the Trojan earth

The spear a fourth time buried in the cloud; Receives thee dead, though Gygæ boast thy birth ; 450 He foams with fury, and exclaims aloud: Those beauteous fields where Hyllus' waves are rollid, Wretch! thou hast 'scaped again ; once more thy And plenteous Hermus swells with tides of gold,

flight Are thine no more. The insulting hero said, Has saved thee, and the partial god of light. 520 And left him sleeping in eternal shade.

But long thou shalt not thy just fate withstand,
The rolling wheels of Greece the body tore, If any power assist Achilles' hand.
And dash'd their axles with no vulgar gore. Fly then inglorious ! but thy flight this day

Demoleon next, Antenor's offspring, Jaid Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay.
Breathless in dust, the price of rashness paid.

With that he gluts his rage on numbers slain : The impatient steel with full descending sway Then Dryops tumbled to the ensanguined plain, Forced through his brazen helm its furious way, 460 Pierced through the neck: he left him panting there, Resistless drove the batter'd skull before,

And stopp'd Demuchus, great Philetor's heir, And dash'd and mingled all the brains with gore. Gigantic chief! deep gash'd the enormous blade, This sees Hippodamas, and seized with fright, And for the soul an ample passage made. 530 Deserts his chariot for a swifter flight:

Laogonus and Dardanus expire, The lance arrests him: an ignoble wound

The valiant sons of an unhappy sire; The panting Trojan rivets to the ground.

Both in one instant from the chariot hurl'd, He groans away his soul; not louder roars Sunk in one instant to the nether world; At Neptune's shrine on Helice's high shores This difference only their sad fates afford, The victim bull: the rocks rebellow round, That one the spear destroy'd, and one the sword. And Ocean listens to the grateful sound. 470 Nor less unpitied young Alastor bleeds :

Then fell on Polydore his vengeful rage, In vain his youth, in vain his beauty pleads; The youngest hope of Priam's stooping age, In vain he begs thee with a suppliant's moan, (Whose feet for swiftness in the race surpass'd ;) To spare a form, an age, so like thy own! 540 Of all his sons the dearest and the last.

Unhappy boy! no prayer, no moving art, To the forbidden field he takes his flight

E'er bent that fierce inexorable heart! In the first folly of a youthful knight :

While yet he trembled at his knees and cried, To vaunt his swiftness wheels around the plain, The ruthless falchion oped his tender side; But vaunts not long, with all his swiftness slain. The panting liver pours a flood of gore Struck where the crossing belts unite behind, That drowns his bosom till he pants no more. And golden rings the double back-plate join'd. 480 Through Mulius' head then drove the impetuous Forth through the navel burst the thrilling steel,

spear, And on his knees with piercing shrieks he fell; The warrior falls transfix'd from ear to ea.

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Thy life, Echeclus! next the sword bereaves, | The river here divides the flying train,
Deep through the front the ponderous falchion cleaves; Part to the town fly diverse o'er the plain,
Warm'd in the brain the smoking weapon lies, 551 Where late their troops triumphant bore the fight:
The purple death comes floating o'er bis eyes. Now chased and trembling in ignoble flight:
Then brave Deucalion died: the dart was flung (These with a gather'd mist Saturnia shrouds,
Where the knit nerves the pliant elbow strung; And rolls behind the rout a beap of clouds.)
He dropp'd his arm, an unassisting weight, Part plunge into the stream: old Xanthus roars,
And stood all impotent, expecting fate:

The flashing billows beat the whiten'd shores :
Full on his neck the falling talchion sped,

With cries promiscuous all the banks resound; From his broad shoulders hew'd his crested head; And here and there in eddies whirling round, Forth from the bone the spinal marrow flies, The flouncing steeds and shrieking warriors drown'd. And sunk in dust the corpse extended lies. 560 As the scorch'd locusts from their fields retire, Rhigmus, whose race from fruitful Thracia came, While fast behind them runs the blaze of fire; (The son of Pireus, an illustrious name,)

Driven from the land before the smoky cloud, Succeeds to fate: the spear his belly rends; The clustering legions rush into the flood; Prone from his car the thundering chief descends : So plunged in Xanthus by Achilles' forre, The squire who saw expiring on the ground Roars the resounding surge with men and horse. His prostrate master, reind the steeds around: His bloody lance the hero cast aside,

20 His back scarce turn’d the Pelian javelin gored, (Which spreading tamarisks on the margin hide;) And stretch'd the servant o'er his dying lord. Then, like a god the rapid billows braves, As when a flame the winding valley fills,

Arm'd with his sword high brandish'd o'er the
And runs on crackling shrubs between the hills; 570 waves;
Then o'er the stubble up the mountain flies, Now down he plunges, now he whirls it round:
Fires the high woods and blazes to the skies, Deep groan'd the waters with the dying sound;
This way and that the spreading torrent roars; Repeated wounds the reddening river dyed,
So sweeps the hero through the wasted shores: And the warm purple circled on the tide.
Around him wide immense destruction pours,

Swift through the foamy food the Trojans fly,
And earth is deluged with the sanguine showers. And close in rocks or winding caverns lie:
As with autumnal harvests cover'd o'er,

So the huge dolphin tempesting the main,
And thick bestrown lies Ceres' sacred floor, In shoals before him fly the scaly train;
When round and round with never-wearied pain, Confusedly heap'd they seek their inmost caves,
The trampling steers beat out the unnumber'd grain, Or pant and heave beneath the floating waves.
So the fierce coursers as the chariot rolls, 581 Now tired with slaughter from the Trojan band,
Tread down whole ranks, and crush out heroes' souls. Twelve chosen youths he drags alive to land;
Dash'd from their hoofs while o'er the dead they fy, With their rich belts their captive arms constrains,
Black bloody drops the smoking chariot dye: (Late their proud ornaments, but now their chains.)
The spiky wheels through heaps of carnage tore; These his attendants to the ships convey'd,
And thick the groaning axles dropp'd with gore. Sad victims! destined to Patroclus' shade.
High o'er the scene of death Achilles stood,

Then, as once more he plunged amid the flood, 40 All grim with dust, all horrible in blood:

The young Lycaon in his passage stood; Yet still insatiate, still with rage on flame;

The son of Priam, whom the hero's hand Such is the lust of never-dying faine!

590 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 ;) BOOK XXI.

To Lemnos' isle he sold the royal slave,

Where Jason's son the price demanded gave;

But kind Eëtion touching on the shore,
The Battle of the River Scamander.

The ransom'd prince to fair Arisbe bore.
The Trojans fly before Achilles, some toward the town, Ten days were past since in his father's reign

others to the river Scamander: he falls upon the latter He felt the sweets of liberty again;
with great slaughter, takes twelve captives alive, to The next, that God whom men in vain withstand,
sacrifice to the shade of Patroclus; and kills Lycaon Gives the same youth to the same conquering hand,
and Asteropeus. Scamander attacks him with all his Now never to return ! and doom'd to go
waves; Neptune and Pallas assist the hero; Simois A sadder journey to the shades below.
joins Scamander: rt length Vulcan, by the instigation His well-known face when great Achilles eyed
of Juno, almost dries up the river. This combat

(The helm and visor he had cast aside ended, the other gods engage each other. Meanwhile Achilles continues the slaughter, drives the rest into With wild affright, and dropp'd upon the field Troy: Agenor only makes a stand, and is conveyed His useless lance and unavailing shield,) away in a cloud by Apollo; who lo delude Achilles) As trembling, panting, from the streams he fled, 60 takes upon him A genör's shape, and while he pursues And knock'd his faltering knees, the hero said: him in that disguise, gives the Trojans an opportunity Ye mighty gods! what wonders strike my view! of retiring into theic city.

Is it in vain our conquering arms subdue ? The same day continues. The scene is on the banks Sure I shall see yon beaps of Trojans kill'd, and in the stream of Scamander.

Rise from the shades and brave me on the field:

As now the captive, whom so late I bound,

And sold to Lernos, stalks on Trojan ground!
And now to Xanthus' gliding stream they drove, Not him the sea's unmeasured deeps detain,
Xanthus, irnmortal progeny of Jove.

| That bars such numbers from their native plain :

Lo! he returns. Try then my flying spear! 70 There no sad mother shall thy funerals weep,
Try if the grave can hold the wanderer;

But swift Scamander roll thee to the deep,
If earth at length this active prince can seize, Whose every wave some watery monster brings
Earth whose strong grasp has held down Hercules. To feast unpunish'd on the fat of kings. 140

Thus while he spake, the Trojan, pale with fears, So perish Troy and all the Trojan line! Approach'd, and sought his knees with suppliant Such ruin theirs, and such compassion mine. tears;

What boots ye now Scamander's worshipp'd stream, Loath as he was to yield his youthful breath, His earthly honours and immortal name? And his soul shivering at the approach of death. In vain your immolated bulls are slain, Achilles raised the spear prepared to wound; Your living coursers glut his gulfs in vain : He kiss'd his feet extended on the ground:

Thus he rewards you with his bitter fate! And while above the spear suspended stood, 80 Thus till the Grecian vengeance is complete ; Longing to dip its thirsty point in blood,

Thus is atoned Patroclus' honour'd shade, One hand embraced them close, one stopp'd the dart, And the short absence of Achilles paid. 150 While thus these melting words attempt his heart: These boastful words provoke the raging god;

Thy well-known captive, great Achilles ! see; With fury swells the violated food, Once more Lycaon trembles at thy knee.

What means divine may yet the power employ, Some pity to a suppliant's name afford,

To check Achilles, and to rescue Troy? Who shared the gifts of Ceres at thy board ;' Meanwhile the hero springs in arms to dare Whom late thy conquering arm to Lemnos bore, The great Asteropeus to mortal war. Far from his father, friends, and native shore; The son of Pelagon, whose lofty line A hundred oxen were his price that day, 90 Flows from the source of Axius, stream divine! Now sums immense thy mercy shall repay.

(Fair Peribæa's love the god had crown'd, Scarce respited from woes I yet appear,

With all ois refluent waters circled round.) 160 And scarce twelve morning suns have seen me here; On him Achilles rush’d; he fearless stood, Lo! Jove again submits me to thy hands,

And shook two spears advancing from the flood; Again her victim cruel Fate demands !

The flood impellid him on Pelides' head I sprung from Priam and Laothöe fair;

To avenge his waters choked with heaps of dead. (Old Alte's daughter, and Lelegia's heir;

Near as they drew, Achilles thus began:
Who held in Pedasus his famed abode,

What art thou, boldest of the race of man?
And ruled the fields where silver Satnio flow'd;) Who or from whence ? Unhappy is the sire
Two sons (alas ! unhappy sons) she bore; 100 Whose son encounters our resistless ire.
For ah! one spear shall drink each brother's gore, O son of Peleus! what avails to trace
And I succeed to slaughter'd Polydore.

(Replied the warrior) our illustrious race? 170 How from that arm of terror shall I fly?

From rich Pæonia's valleys I command, Some dæmon urges ! 'tis my doom to die !

Arm'd with protended spears, my native band; If ever yet soft pity touch'd thy mind,

Now shines the tenth bright morning since I came
Ah! think not me too much of Hector's kind ! In aid of lion to the fields of fame :
Not the same mother gave thy suppliant breath, Axius, who swells with all the neighbouring rills,
With his who wrought thy loved Patroclus' death. And wide around the floated region fills,

These words, attended with a shower of tears, Begot my sire, whose spear such glory won :
The youth address'd to unrelenting ears. 110Now lift thy arm and try that hero's son !
Talk not of life, or ransom (he replies ;)

Threatening he said : the hostile chiefs advance; Patroclus dead, whoever meets me dies:

At once Asteropeus discharged each lance: 180 In vain a single Trojan sues for grace;

(For both his dextrous hands the lance could wield :) But least the sons of Priani's hateful race.

One struck, but pierced not the Vulcanian shield; Die then, my friend! what boots it to deplore ? One razed Achilles' hand; the spouting blood The great, the good Patroclus is no more! Spun forth, in earth the fasten'd weapon stood. He, far thy better was foredoom'd to die,

Like lightning next the Pelian javelin flies : And thou, dost thou bewail mortality ?

Its erring fury hiss'd along the skies; Seest thou not me, whom nature's gifts adorn, Deep in the swelling bank was driven the spear Sprung from a hero, from a goddess born? 120 | E'en to the middle earth'd ; and quiver'd there. The day shall come (which nothing can avert) Then from his side the sword Pelides drew, When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart,

And on his foe with doubled fury few.

190 By night or day, by force or by design,

The foe thrice tugg'd and shook the rooted wood; Impending death and certain fate are mine.

Repulsive of his might the weapon stood :
Die then-He said : and as the word he spoke, The fourth he tries to break the spear in vain;
The fainting stripling sunk before the stroke : Bent as he stands he tumbles to the plain;
His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear, His belly open'd with a ghastly wound,
While all his trembling frame confess'd his fear; The reeking entrails pour upon the ground.
Sudden Achilles his broad sword display'd,

Beneath the hero's feet he panting lies,
And buried in his neck the reeking blade. 130 And his eye darkens, and his spirit flies :
Prone fell the youth; and panting on the land, While the proud victor thus triumphing said,
The gushing purple dyed the thirsty sand;

His radiant armour tearing from the dead : 200 The victor to the stream the carcass gave,

So ends thy glory! such the fates they prove, And thus insults him floating on the wave:

Who strive presumptuous with the sons of Jove. Lie there, Lycaon! let the fish surround

Sprung from a river didst thou boast thy line ? Thy bloated corse, and suck thy gory wound: But great Satumius is the source of mine.

How durst thou vaunt thy watery progeny ? Heaving the bank, and undermining all,
Of Peleus, Æacus, and Jove, am l;

Loud tlash the waters to the rushing fall
The race of these superior far to those,

Of the thick foliage. The large trunk display'd As he that thunders to the stream that flows. Bridged the rough flood across : the hero stay'd What rivers can, Scamander might have shown; On this his weight, and raised upon his hand, But Jove he dreads, nor wars against his son. 210 Leap'd from the channel and regain'd the land. E'en Achelous might contend in vain,

Then blacken'd the wild waves; the murmur rose; And all the roaring billows of the main.

The god pursues, a huger billow throws,
The eternal ocean from whose fountains flow And bursts the bank, ambitious to destroy
The seas, the rivers, and the springs below, The man whose fury is the fate of Troy.
The thundering voice of Jove abhors to hear, He, like the warlike eagle speeds his pace,
And in his deep abysses shakes with fear.

(Swiftest and strongest of the aërial race :)
He said: then from the bank his javelin tore, Far as a spear can fly Achilles springs
And left the breathless warrior in his gore. At every bound; his clanging armour rings;
The foating tides the bloody carcass lave,

Now here, now there, he turns on every side, And beat against it, wave succeeding wave; 220 And winds his course before the following tide; Till roll'd between the banks, it lies the food The waves flow after wheresoe'er he wheels, Of curling eels, and fishes of the flood.

And gather fast and murmur at his heels. All scatter'd round the stream (their mightiest slain) So when a peasant to his garden brings The amazed Pæonians scour along the plain : Soft rills of water from the bubbling springs, 290 He vents his fury on the flying crew,

And calls the floods from high to bless his bowers, Thrasius, Astypylus, and Mnesus slew;

And feed with pregnant streams the plants and Mydon, Thersilochus, with Ænius fell ;

And numbers more his lance had plunged to hell, Soon as he clears whate'er their passage staid,
But from the bottom of his gulfs profound, And marks the future current with his spade,
Scamander spoke; the shores return'd the sound : 230 Swift o'er the rolling pebbles down the hills,

O first of mortals! (for the gods are thine,) Louder and louder purl the falling rills;
In valour matchless, and in force divine!

Before him scattering they prevent his pains, If Jove have given thee every Trojan head, And shine in mazy wanderings o'er the plains. 'Tis not on me thy rage should heap the dead. Still dies Achilles, but before his eyes See! my choked streams no more their course can Still swift Scamander rolls where'er be flies : 300 keep,

Not all his speed escapes the rapid floods ; Nor roll their wonted tribute to the deep.

The first of men, but not a match for gods.
Turn, then, impetuous ! from our injured flood; Oft as he turn'd, the torrent to oppose,
Content thy slaughters could amaze a god.

And bravely try if all the powers were foes,
In human form confess'd before his eyes, So oft the surge in watery mountains spread,
The river thus; and thus the chief replies : 240 Beats on his back, or bursts upon his head.
O sacred stream! thy word we shall obey; Yet dauntless still the adverse flood he braves,
But not till Troy the destined vengeance pay; And still indignant bounds above the waves.
Not till within her towers the perjured train Tired by the tides, his knees relax with toil;
Shall pant and tremble at our arms again;

Wash'd from beneath him slides the slimy soil; 310 Not till proud Hector, guardian of her wall, When thus (his eyes on heaven's expansion thrown) Or stain this lance, or see Achille fall.

Forth bursts the hero with an angry groan : He said; and drove with fury on the foe.

Is there no god Achilles to befriend, Then to the godhead of the silver bow

No power to avert his miserable end ? The yellow flood began: O son of Jove!

Prevent, O Jove! this ignominious date, Was not the mandate of the site above

250 And make my future life the sport of Fate. Full and express ? that Phæbus should employ Of all Heaven's oracles believed in vain, His sacred arrows in defence of Troy,

But most of Thetis must her son complain; And make her conquer till Hyperion's fall

By Phæbus' darts she prophesied my fall, In awful darkness hide the face of all ?

In glorious arms before the Trojan wall. He spoke in vain-the chief without dismay O! had I died in fields of battle warm, Ploughs through the boiling surge his desperate Stretch'd like a hero by a hero's arm ! way.

Might Hector's spear this dauntless bosom rend, Then rising in his rage above the shores,

And my swift soul o'ertake my slaughter'd friend! From all his deep the bellowing river roars; Ah no! Achilles meets a shameful fate, Huge heaps of slain disgorges on the coast, Oh how unworthy of the brave and great! And round the banks the ghastly dead are toss'd; 260 Like some vile swain, whom on a rainy day, While all before the billows ranged on high Crossing a ford the torrent sweeps away, (A watery bulwark,) screen the bands who fly. An unregarded carcass to the sea. Now bursting on his head with thundering sound, Neptune and Pallas haste to his relief, 330 The falling deluge whelms the hero round: And thus, in human form, address'd the chief: His loaded shield bends to the rushing lide, The power of ocean first : Forbear thy fear, His feet, upborne, scarce the strong flood divide, O son of Peleus ! lo, thy gods appear ! Sliddering and staggering. On the border stood Behold! from Jove descending to thy aid, A spreading elm that overbung the flood;

Propitious Neptune and the blue-eyed maid. He seized a bending bough his steps to stay ; Slay, and the furious flood shall cease to rave : The plant uprooted to his weight gave way, 2701'Tis not thy fate to glut his angry wave.

But thou the counsel Heaven suggests attend; Swift on the sedgy reeds the ruin preys;
Nor breathe from combat, nor thy sword suspend, Along the margin winds the running blaze;
Till Troy receives her flying sons, till all 340 The trees in flaming rows to ashes turn,
Her routed squadrons pant behind their wall : The flowery lotos and the tamarisk burn,
Hector alone shall stand his fatal chance,

Broad elm and cypress rising in a spire, 410
And Hector's blood shall smoke upon thy lance. The watery willows hiss before the fire;
Thine is the glory doom'd. Thus spake the gods : Now glow the waves, the fishes pant for breath,
Then swift ascended to the bright abodes.

The eels lie twisting in the pangs of death : Stung by new ardour, thus by Heaven impellid, Now flounce aloft, now dive the scaly fry, He springs impetuous, and invades the field : Or gasping turn their bellies to the sky. O'er all the expanded plain the waters spread; At length the river rear'd his languid head, Heaved on the bounding billows danced the dead, And thus, short-panting to the god, he said : Floating 'midst scatter'd arms; while casques of gold, Oh, Vulcan! oh! what power resists thy might? And turn'd-up bucklers glitter'd as they rolld. 351 I faint, I sink, unequal to the fight. High o'er the surging tide, by leaps and bounds, I yield-Let Ilion fall; if fate decree 420 He wades and mounts; the parted wave resounds. Ah bend no more thy fiery arms on me! Not a whole river stops the hero's course,

He ceased : wide conflagration blazing round; While Pallas fills him with immortal force. The bubbling waters yield a hissing sound. With equal rage indignant Xanthus roars,

As when the flames beneath a caldron rise, And lifts his billows and o'erwhelms his shores. To melt the fat of some rich sacrifice,

Then thus to Simoïs : Haste, my brother flood ! Amid the fierce embrace of circling fires And check this mortal that controuls a god : . The waters foam, the heavy smoke aspires : Our bravest heroes else shall quit the fight, 360 So boils the imprison'd flood forbid to flow, And Ilion tumble from her towery height.

And choked with vapours feels his bottom glow. Call then thy subject streams, and bid them roar, To Juno then, imperial queen of air,

430 From all thy fountains swell thy watery store, The burning river sends his earnest prayer : With broken rocks, and with a load of dead

Ah, why Saturnia ! must thy son engage
Charge the black surge, and pour it on his head. Me, only me, with all his wasteful rage ?
Mark how resistless through the flood he goes, On other gods his dreadful arm employ,
And boldly bids the warring gods be foes ! For mightier gods assert the cause of Troy.
But not that force, nor form divine to sight, Submissive I desist if thou command:
Shall aught avail him if our rage unite :

But, ah! withdraw this all-destroying hand.
Whelm'd under our dark gulfs those arms shall lie, Hear then my solemn oath to yield to Fate
That blaze so dreadful in each Trojan eye. 371 Unaided lion and her destined state,
And deep beneath a sandy mountain hurl'd Till Greece shall gird her with destructive flame, 440
Immersed remain this terror of the world.

And in one ruin sink the Trojan name.
Such ponderous ruin shall confound the place, His warm entreaty touch'd Saturnia's ear
No Greek shall e'en his perish'd relics grace, She bade the ignipotent his rage forbear,
No hand his bones shall gather or inhume; Recall the flame, nor in a mortal cause
These his cold rites, and this his watery tomb. Infest a god : the obedient flame withdraws:

He said : and on the chief descends amain, Again the branching streams begin to spread,
Increased with gore, and swelling with the slain. And soft-remurmur in their wonted bed.
Then murmuring from his beds, he boils, he raves, While these by Juno's will the strife resign,
And a foam whitens on the purple waves : 381 The warring gods in fierce contention join :
At every step before Achilles stood

Re-kindling rage each heavenly breast alarms; 450
The crimson surge, and deluged him with blood. With horrid clangour shock the ethereal arms:
Fear touch'd the queen of heaven; she saw dismay'd, Heaven in loud thunder bids the trumpet sound,
She call'd aloud, and summond Vulcan's aid. And wide beneath them groans the rending ground.

Rise to the war! the insulting flood requires Jove, as his sport, the dreadful scene descries, Thy wasteful arm: assemble all thy fires !

And views contending gods with careless eyes. While to their aid, by our command enjoin'd, The power of battles lifts his brazen spear, Rush the swift eastern and the western wind; And first assaults the radiant queen of war. These from old ocean at my word shall blow, 390 What moved thy madness thus to disunite Pour the red torrent on the watery foe,

Ethereal minds, and mix all heaven in fight? Corses and arms to one bright ruin turn,

What wonder this when in thy frantic mood 460 And hissing rivers to their bottoms burn.

Thou drovest a mortal to insult a god! Go, mighty in thy rage ! display thy power, Thy inpious hand Tydides' javelin bore, Drink the whole flood, the crackling trees devour, And madly bathed it in celestial gore. Scorch all the banks ! and (till our voice reclaim) He spoke; and smote the long-resounding shield, Exert the unwearied furies of the flame!

Which bears Jove's thunder on its dreadful field; The power ignipotent her word obeys ; The adamantine ægis of her sire, Wide o'er the plain he pours the boundless blaze; That turns the glancing bolt and forked fire. At once consumes the dead and dries the soil; 400 Then heaved the goddess in her mighty hand And the shrunk waters in their channel boil. A stone, the limit of the neighbouring land, As when autumnal Boreas sweeps the sky, There fix'd from eldest times: black, craggy, vast: And instant blows the water'd gardens dry; This at the heavenly homicide she cast. 471 So look'd the field, so wbiten'd was the ground, Thundering he falls a mass of monstrous size, While Vulcan breathed the fiery blast around. And seven broad acres covers as he lies.

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