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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;
Then fierce Achilles shouting to the skies, Mean as I am, the gods may guide my dart,
Then parts the lance : but Pallas' heavenly breath
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,
Demoleon next, Antenor's offspring, Jaid Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay.
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.
Thy life, Echeclus! next the sword bereaves, | The river here divides the flying train,
The flashing billows beat the whiten'd shores :
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
Swift through the foamy food the Trojans fly,
So the huge dolphin tempesting the main,
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 ransom'd prince to fair Arisbe bore.
others to the river Scamander: he falls upon the latter He felt the sweets of liberty again;
(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!
| 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,
But swift Scamander roll thee to the deep,
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:
What art thou, boldest of the race of man?
(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
These words, attended with a shower of tears, Begot my sire, whose spear such glory won :
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 :
Beneath the hero's feet he panting lies,
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,
Loud tlash the waters to the rushing fall
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,
(Swiftest and strongest of the aërial race :)
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 ;
O first of mortals! (for the gods are thine,) Louder and louder purl the falling rills;
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.
And bravely try if all the powers were foes,
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;
Broad elm and cypress rising in a spire, 410
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
But, ah! withdraw this all-destroying hand.
And in one ruin sink the Trojan name.
He said : and on the chief descends amain, Again the branching streams begin to spread,
Re-kindling rage each heavenly breast alarms; 450
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.