Ev'n great Achilles scarce their rage can tame,'
Achilles, fprung from an immortal damé.
But fay, be faithful, and the truth recite!
Where lies encamp'd the Trojan chief to-night ?.
Where ftand his courfers ? in what quarter fléep
Their other princes? tell what watch they keep: 480
Say, fince their conqueft, what their counfels are;
Or here to combat, from their city far,
Or back to Ilion's walls transfer the war.
Ulyffes thus, and thus Eumedes' fon :
What Dolon knows, his faithful tongue fhall own. 485
Hector, the peers affembling in his tent,
A council holds at Ilus' monument.
No certain guards the nightly watch partake;
Where-e'er yon fires afcend, the Trojans wake:
Anxious for Troy, the guard the natives keep;
Safe in their cares, th' auxiliar forces fleep,
Whose wives and infants, from the danger far,
Discharge their fouls of half the fears of war.
Then fleep thofe aids among the Trojan train, (Enquir'd the chief) or fcatter'd o'er the plain? To whom the spy: Their powers they thus difpole The Pæons, dreadful with their bended bows, The Carians, Caucons, the Pelafgian host, And Leleges, encamp along the coast.
Not distant far, lie higher on the land
The Lycian, Myfian, and Mæonian band,
And Phrygia's horfe, by Thymbras' ancient wall;
The Thracians utmost, and apart from all.
Thefe Troy but lately to her fuccour won,
Led on by Rhefus, great Eioneus' fon a
I faw his courfers in proud triumph go,
Swift as the wind, and white as winter fnow !<
Rich filver plates his fhining car infold;
His folid arms, refulgent, flame with gold;
No mortal shoulders fuit the glorious load,
Celestial Panoply, to grace a God!
Let me, unhappy, to your fleet be borne,
Or leave me here, a captive's fate to mourn,
In cruel chains; till your return reveal,
The truth or falfehood of the news I tell;
To this Tydides, with a gloomy frown:
Think not to live, though all the truth be fhown:
Shall we difmifs thee, in fome future ftrife
To risk more bravely thy now forfeit life ?-
Or that again our camps thou may'st explore !
No-once a traitor, thou betray'st no more.
Sternly he spoke, and as the wretch prepar'd With humble blandishment to stroke his beard, Like lightning fwift the wrathful faulchion flew, Divides the neck, and cuts the nerves in two; One inftant fnatch'd his trembling foul to hell,
The head, yet speaking, mutter'd as it fell.
The furry helmet from his brow they tear,
The wolf's grey hide, th' unbended bow and spear;
These great Ulyffes lifting to the skies,
To favouring Pallas dedicates the prize:
Great Queen of arms! receive this hoftile spoil,
And let the Thracian steeds reward our toil :
Thee first of all the heavenly host we praise;
O speed our labours, and direct our ways!
This faid, the fpoils with dropping gore defac'd,
High on a spreading tamarisk he plac'd ;
Then heap'd with reeds and gather'd boughs the plain, To guide their footsteps to the place again.
"Through the still night they cross the devious fields Slippery with blood, o'er arms and heaps of shields, Arriving where the Thracian squadrons lay, And eas'd in fleep the labours of the day.. Rang'd in three lines they view the proftrate band: The horses yok'd beside each warriour stand; Their arms in order on the ground reclin'd,
Through the brown fhade the fulgid weapons shin'd;
Amidst lay Rhefus, stretch'd in fleep profound,
And the white steeds behind his chariot hound:
The welcome fight Ulyffes first defcries,
And points to Diomed the tempting prize.
The man, the courfers, and the car behold!'
Defcrib'd by: Dolon, with the arms of gold.
Now, brave Tydides! now thy courage try,
Approach the chariot, and the steeds untie ;
Or if thy foul aspire to fiercer deeds,
Urge thou the flaughter, while I seize the steeds.
Pallas (this faid) her hero's bofom warms,
Breath'd in his heart, and ftrung his nervous arms;
Where-e'er he pass'd, a purple stream pursued
His thirsty faulchion, fat with hostile blood;
Bath'd all his footsteps, dy'd the fields with gore,
And a low groan remurmur'd through the shore..
So the grim lion, from his nightly den,
Olerleaps the fences, and invades the pen ;;
On sheep or goats, resistless in his way,
He falls, and foaming rends the guardless prey.
Nor ftopp'd the fury of his vengeful hand,
Till twelve lay breathlefs of the Thracian band.
Ulyffes following, as his partner flew,
Back by the foot each slaughter'd warriour drew;
The milk-white courfers ftudious to convey
Safe to the ships, he wifely clear'd the way;
Left the fierce steeds, not yet to battles bred,
Should start, and tremble at the heaps of dead.
Now twelve dispatch'd, the monarch last they found;
Tydides' faulchion fix'd him to the ground.
Just then a deathful dream Minerva fent ;
A warlike form appear'd before his tent, ::
Whofe vifionary steel his bofom tore:
So dream'd the monarch, and awak'd no more.
Ulyffes now the fnowy steeds detains,
And leads them, fasten'd by the silver reins;
Thefe, with his how unbent, he lafh'd along;
(The fcourge forgot, on Rhefus' chariot hung.)
Then gave his friend the fignal to retire;
But him, new dangers, new atchievements fire:
Doubtful he stood, or with his reeking blade
To fend more beroes to th' infernal shade,
Drag off the car where Rhesus' armour lay,
Or heave with manly force, and lift away.
While unresolv'd the son of Tydeus ftands,
Pallas appears, and thus her chief commands:
Enough, my fon; from farther flaughter ceafe,
Regard thy fafety, and depart in peace;
Hafte to the fhips, the gotten fpoils enjoy,
Nor tempt too far the hostile Gods of Troy.
The voice divine confefs'd the martial Maid;
In hafte he mounted, and her word obey'd;
The courfers fly before Ulyffes' bow,
Swift as the wind, and white as winter-fnow.
Not unobferv'd they pafs'd: the God of Light
Had watch'd his Troy, and mark'd Minerva's flight,
Saw Tydeus' fon with heavenly fuccour bleft,
And vengeful anger fill'd his facred breast.
Swift to the Trojan camp defcends the Power,
And wakes Hippocoön in the morning hour
(On Rhefus' fide accuftom'd to attend,
A faithful kinfman, and instructive friend.)
He rofe, and faw the field deform'd with blood, 610
An empty space where late the courfers stood,
The yet-warm Thracians panting on the coaft;
For each he wept, but for his Rhefus most:
Now while on Rhefus' name he calls in vain,
The gathering tumult fpreads o'er all the plain; 615
On heaps the Trojans rush, with wild affright,
And wondering view the flaughters of the night.
Meanwhile the chiefs arriving at the shade
Where late the fpoils of Hector's fpy were laid,
Ulyffes ftopp'd; to him Tydides bore
The trophy, dropping yet with Dolon's gore :
Then mounts again; again their nimble feet
The courfers ply, and thunder tow'rds the fleet.
Old Neftor first perceiv'd th' approaching found,
Befpeaking thus the Grecian peers around:
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