O'er his bent back the briftly honours rise,
Fires ftream in lightning from his fanguine eyes;
His foaming tusks both dogs and men engage,
But most his hunters rouze his mighty rage:
So stood Idomeneus, his javelin fhook,
And met the Trojan with a lowering look.
Antilochus, Deïpyrus, were near,
The youthful offspring of the God of war,
Merion, and Aphareus, in field renown'd:
To thefe the warriour sent his voice around:
Fellows in arms! your timely aid unite;
Lo, great Æneas rushes to the fight:
Sprung from a God, and more than mortal bold; 610
He fresh in youth, and I in arms grown old.
Elfe fhould this hand, this hour, decide the ftrife,
The great difpute, of glory, or of life.
He fpoke; and all as with one soul obey'd;
Their lifted bucklers caft a dreadful shade
Around the chief. Æneas too demands
Th' affifting forces of his native bands :
Paris, Deïphobus, Agenor join;
(Co-aids and captains of the Trojan line)
In order follow all th' embodied train;
Like Ida's flocks proceeding o'er the plain;
Before his fleecy care, erect and bold,
Stalks the proud ram, the father of the fold:
With joy the swain furveys them, as he leads
To the cool fountains, through the well-known meads. So joys Æneas, as his native band
Moves on in rank, and stretches o'er the land,
Round dead Alcathoüs now the battle rofe;
On every fide the steely circle grows;
Now batter'd breaft-plates and hack'd helmets ring,
And o'er their heads unheeded javelins fing.
Above the reft two towering chiefs appear,
There great Idomeneus, Æneas here.
Like Gods of war, difpenfing fate, they stood,
And burn'd to drench the ground with mutual blood.
The Trojan weapon whizz'd along in air,
The Cretan faw, and shunn'd the brazen spear:
Sent from an arm fo ftrong, the miffive wood
Stuck deep in earth, and quiver'd where it stood.
But Oenomas receiv'd the Cretan's stroke,
The forceful spear his hollow corselet broke,
It ripp'd his belly with a ghaftly wound,
And roll'd the fmoaking entrails to the ground.
Stretch'd on the plain, he fobs away his breath,
And furious grafps the bloody duft in death.
The victor from his breaft the weapon tears;
(His fpoils he could not, for the shower of spears.)
Though now unfit an active war to wage,
In standing fight he yet maintains his force:
Till, faint with labour, and by foes repell'd,
His tir'd flow steps he drags from off the field.
Deïphobus beheld him as he past,
Aud, fir'd with hate, a parting javelin caft:
The javelin err'd, but held its course along,
And pierc'd Afcalaphus, the brave and young:
Heavy with cumberous arms, ftiff with cold age,
His liftlefs limbs unable for the course;
The fon of Mars fell gafping on the ground,
And gnash'd the dust all bloody with his wound.
Nor knew the furious father of his fall;
High-thron'd amidst the great Olympian hall,
On golden clouds th' immortal synod fate;
Detain'd from bloody war by Jove and Fate.
Now, where in dust the breathless hero lay,
For flain Afcalaphus commenc'd the fray.
Deïphobus to. feize his helmet flies,
And from his temples rends the glittering prize;
Valiant as Mars, Meriones drew near,
And on his loaded arm discharg'd his fpear:
He drops the weight, disabled with the pain;
The hollow helmet rings against the plain.
Swift as a vulture leaping on his prey,
From his torn arm the Grecian rent away
The reeking javelin, and rejoin'd his friends.
His wounded brother good Polites tends;
Around his waift his pious arms he threw,
And from the rage of combat gently drew:
Him his fwift courfers, on his fplendid car,
Rapt from the leffening thunder of the war;
To Troy they drove him, groaning from the shore,
And sprinkling, as he pass'd, the fands with gore.
Meanwhile fresh slaughter bathes the fanguine ground,. Heaps fall on heaps, and heaven and earth refound. Bold Aphareus by great Æneas bled;
As tow'rd the chief he turn'd his daring head,
He pierc'd his throat; the bending head, depreft
Beneath his helmet, nods upon his breast ;
His fhield revers'd o'er the fall'n warriour lies;
And everlasting flumber feals his eyes.
Antilochus, as Thoön turn'd him round,
Tranfpierc'd his back with a dishonest wound:
The hollow vein that to the neck extends
Along the chine, his eager javelin rends:
Supine he falls, and to his focial train
Spreads his imploring arms, but spreads in vain.
Th' exulting victor, leaping where he lay,
From his broad fhoulders tore the spoils away;
His time obferv'd; for, clos'd by foes around,
On all fides thick, the peals of arms refound.
His fhield, emboss'd, the ringing ftorm fuftains,
But he impervious and untouch'd remains.
(Great Neptune's care preferv'd from hoftile rage
This youth, the joy of Neftor's glorious age)
In arms intrepid, with the first he fought,
Fac'd every foe, and every danger fought ;
His winged lance, refiftlefs as the wind,
Obeys each motion of the mafter's mind,
Reftlefs it flies, impatient to be free,
And meditates the distant enemy.
The fon of Afius, Adamas, drew near,
And ftruck his target with the brazen spear,
Fierce in his front: but Neptune wards the blow,
And blunts the javelin of th' eluded foe.
In the broad buckler half the weapon stood;
Splinter'd on earth flew half the broken wood.
Difarm'd, he mingled in the Trojan crew ;
But Merion's fpear o'ertook him as he flew,
Deep in the belly's rim an entrance found,
Where sharp the pang, and mortal is the wound.
Bending, he fell, and doubled to the ground, 720
Lay panting. Thus an ox, in fetters ty'd,
While death's ftrong pangs diftend his labouring fide, His bulk enormous on the field difplays;
His heaving heart beats thick, as ebbing life decays.
The fpear, the conqueror from his body drew,
And death's dim fhadows fwam before his view.
Next brave Deïpyrus in duft was laid:
King Helenus wav'd high the Thracian blade,
And fmote his temples, with an arm so strong,
The helm fell off, and roll'd amid the throng:
There, for fome luckier Greek it rests a prize;
For dark in death the god-like owner lies!
Raging with grief, great Menelaüs burns,
And, fraught with vengeance, to the victor turns ; That shook the ponderous lance, in act to throw; 735 And this stood adverse with the bended bow:
Full on his breast the Trojan arrow fell,
But harmless bounded from the plated steel.
As on fome ample barn's well-harden'd floor, (The winds collected at each open door)
While the broad fan with force is whirl'd around,
Light leaps the golden grain, refulting from the
So from the steel that guards Atrides' heart,
Repell'd to distance flies the bounding dart.
Atrides, watchful of th' unwary foe,
Pierc'd with his lance the hand that grafp'd the bow,
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