(Eunæus, whom Hypfipyle of yore

To Jafon, fhepherd of his people, bore)

565

The reft they purchas'd at their proper cost,

570

And well the plenteous freight fupply'd the hoft:
Each, in exchange, proportion'd treasures gave:
Some brafs, or iron; fome an ox, or flave.
All night they feast, the Greek and Trojan powers;
Thofe on the fields, and these within their towers.
But Jove averse the signs of wrath display'd,
And shot red lightnings through the gloomy shade:
Humbled they stood; pale horrour seiz'd on all, 575
While the deep thunder shook th' aërial hall.
Each pour'd to Jove, before the bowl was crown'd;
And large libations drench'd the thirsty ground:
Then late, refresh'd with fleep from toils of fight,
Enjoy'd the balmy bleffings of the night.

580

THE

THE

EIGHTH BOOK

O F THE

ILI A D.

ARGUMENT.

The fecond Battle, and the distress of the Greeks.

JUPITER affembles a council of the Deities, and threatens them with the pains of Tartarus if they affift either fide: Minerva only obtains of him that the may direct the Greeks by her counfels. The armies join battle: Jupiter on Mount Ida weighs in his balances the fates of both, and affrights the Greeks with his thunders and lightnings. Neftor alone continues in the field, in great danger; Diomed relieves him; whofe exploits, and thofe of Hector, are excellently described. Juno endeavours to animate Neptune to the affiftance of the Greeks, but in vain. The acts of Teucer, who is at length wounded by Hector, and carried off. Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians; but are reftrained by Iris, fent from Jupiter. The night puts an end to the battle. Hector continues in the field (the Greeks being driven to their fortification before the fhips) and gives orders to keep the watch all night in the camp, to prevent the enemy from reimbarking and efcaping by flight. They kindle fires through all the field, and pafs the night under arms.

The time of seven and twenty days is employed from the opening of the poem to the end of this book. The fcene here (except of the celestial machines) lies in the field toward the fea-fhore.

THE

ILIA D.

воок

VIII.

AURORA now, fair daughter of the dawn,

Sprinkled with rofy light the dewy lawn;
When Jove conven'd the fenate of the skies,
Where high Olympus' cloudy tops arise.
The Sire of Gods his awful filence broke,
The heavens attentive trembled as he spoke:
Celestial ftates, immortal Gods! give ear,
Hear our decree, and reverence what ye hear;
The fix'd decree, which not all Heaven can move;
Thou Fate! fulfil it; and, ye Powers, approve!
What God but enters yon forbidden field,
Who yields affiftance, or but wills to yield;
Back to the fkies with fhame he fhall be driven,
Gafh'd with difhoneft wounds, the scorn of heaven :
Or far, oh far from fteep Olympus thrown,
Low in the dark Tartarean gulf shall groan,
With burning chains fix'd to the brazen floors,
And look'd by hell's inexorable doors;
As deep beneath th' infernal centre hurl'd,
As from that centre to th' ethereal world.
Let him who tempts me, dread those dire abodes
And know, th' Almighty is the God of Gods.

10

35

20

League

League all your forces then, ye Powers above,
Join all, and try th' omnipotence of Jove:

Let down our golden everlafting chain,

25

Whofe ftrong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main :

Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth,

To drag, by this, the Thunderer down to earth:
Ye ftrive in vain! If I but ftretch this hand,

I heave the Gods, the ocean, and the land;
I fix the chain to great Olympus' height,
And the vast world hangs trembling in my fight!
For fuch I reign, unbounded and above;
And fuch are men and Gods, compar'd to Jove.

30

Th' Almighty fpoke, nor durft the Powers reply, 35 A reverend horrour filenc'd all the sky;

Trembling they stood before their Sovereign's look ;
At length his best-belov'd, the Power of Wisdom, spoke
"Oh firft and greatest! God, by Gods ador'd !
We own thy might, our Father and our Lord!
But ah! permit to pity human ftate ::

If not to help, at leaft lament their fate.
From fields forbidden we fubmifs refrain,.

With arms unaiding mourn our Argives flain;

40

Yet grant my counfels ftill their breafts may move, 45 Or all must perish in the wrath of Jove.

The cloud-compelling God her fuit approv'd, And finil'd fuperiour on his best-belov'd.

Then call'd his courfers, and his chariot took;
The ftedfaft firmament beneath them fhook:
Rapt by th' æthereal steeds the chariot roll'd;
Brafs were their hoofs, their curling manes of gold.

Of