Yet a short interval and none shall dare
Expect a second summons to the war.
Who waits for that the dire effect 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 Creontian 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 attested skies,
I left thee fresh in life, in beauty gay!
Now find thee cold, inanimated clay!
What woes my wretched race of life attend!
240 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 echo'd 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 Phoenix, strive to calm his grief and rage:
His
rage they calm not, nor his grief controul;
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: 270 Thy sweet society, thy winning care,
On heaven's broad marble roof were fix'd 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'er-ruling all,
Once staid Achilles rushing to the war.
But now, alas! to death's cold arms resign'd,
What banquet but revenge can glad my mind? 340
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. 350
I hoped Patroclus might survive, to rear
My tender orphan with a parent's care,
That doom'd our strife, and doom'd the Greeks to fall. From Scyros' isle conduct him o'er the main,
Go then, ye chiefs! indulge the genial rite,
Achilles waits you, and expects the fight.
And glad his eyes with his paternal reign,
The lofty palace, and the large domain.
For Peleus breathes no more the vital air;
290 Or drags a wretched life of age and care
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.
These 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!
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, 360
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 canvass wings extend,
300 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, 370
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,
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:
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,
380 Nor, as ye left Patroclus, leave your lord.
So helms succeeding helms, so shields from shields
Catch the quick beams, and brighten all the fields;
Broad glittering breast-plates, 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 eye-balls roll with living fire;
He grinds his teeth, and furious with delay,
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 450
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,
Nor ours the fault, but God decrees thy doom.
390 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, 460
Or beat the pinions of the western gale,
All were in vain-the Fates thy death demand,
O'erlooks the embattled host, and hopes the bloody day. Due to a mortal and immortal hand.
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 410
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 Phoebus in the ethereal way
Flames from his chariot and restores the day.
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 fates; to die, to see no more
My much-loved parents and my native shore-
Enough-when heaven ordains, I sink in night; 470
Now perish Troy !-He said, and rush'd to fight
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 battle described, when the deities are engaged. Apollo encourages Æneas to meet Achilles. After a long conversation, these two heroes encounter; but neas 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 parsues the Trojans with a great slaughter.
The same day continues. The scene is the field before
Troy.
THUS round Pelides, breathing war and blood,
Greece, sheath'd in arms, beside her vessels stood;
While near impending from a neighbouring height,"
Troy's black battalions wait the shock of fight.
430 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.
E'en 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 com-
mands,
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 lowering hosts appear,
And death stands ardent on the edge of war.
20 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 e'en to gods.
Such war the immortals wage; such horrors rend
The world's vast concave, when the gods contend.
First silver-saf.ed 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.
30 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 call'd Scamander by the sons of earth.
'Tis true (the cloud-compelling power replies,)
This day we call the council of the skies
In care of human race; e'en 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;
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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 aids 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 Simoïs from the beauteous hill;
The mountain shook, and rapid stream stood still:
Above, the sire of gods his thunder rolls,
And peals on peals redoubled rend the poles.
While thus the gods in various leagues engage; Achilles glow'd with more than mortal rage: 40 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.
Eneas 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,
50 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 scatter'd, and our herds he kill'd;
Lyrnessus, Pedasus, in ashes lay;
60 But (Jove assisting) I surviv'd 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.
131
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,
70 And be what great Achilles was before.
From heavenly Venus thou derivest thy strain,
And he but from a sister of the main;
An ancient 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
Phoebus impels, and Phoebus 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,
Ere yet the stern encounter join'd, begun
The seed of Thetis thus to Venus' son:
Why comes Eneas 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?
150 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 hill for vines, and arable for grain?
E'en 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 Eneas seem'd to fear:
With hearty haste from Ida's mount he fled,
Nor till he reach'd Lyrnessus turned his head.
Her lofty walls not long our progress staid;
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.
170 Go: while thou may'st avoid the threatening fate;
Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late.
That spun so short his life's illustrious line:
But let 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?
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,
Cerulean 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 Simoï's 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 gleamy 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 as 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 Eneas, and his force defies.
To this Anchises' son: Such words employ 240
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 farther seek to learn my birth
(A tale resounding through the spacious earth,)
Hear how the glorious origin we prove
From ancient Dardanus, and 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.
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:
200 Hence sprung twelve others of unrival'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,
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,
llus, Assaracus, and Ganymed:
210 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 (blest with Hector brave and bold :)
Clytius and Lampus, ever-honour'd pair:
And Hicetaon, thunderbolt of war.
From great Assaracus sprung Capys, he
Begat Anchises, and Anchises me.
280 To all the gods his constant vows were paid:
Sure through the wars for Troy he claims our aid.
Fate wills not this; nor thus can Jove resign
The future father of the Dardan line:
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 Eneas 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
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
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 out-stretch'd arm Pelides held
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 e'en 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 e'en her crumbling ruins are no more.
The king of ocean to the fight descends,
300 Through all the whistling darts his course he bends,
Swift interposed between the warriors flies,
And casts thick darkness o'er Achilles' eyes.
From great neas' 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 381
Urged thee to meet Achilles' arm in war?
Henceforth beware, nor antedate thy doom,
(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, Defrauding Fate of all thy fame to come.
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 Pelian weapon glides,
And the slight covering of expanded hides.
Eneas 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:
Eneas, 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. 340
Lo! on the brink of fate Æneas stands,
An instant victim to Achilles' hands:
By Phoebus urged; but Phoebus 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?
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 the 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 arm 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
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