Tydides follow'd to regain his lance;
While Hector rose, recover'd from the trance;
Remounts his car, and herds amidst the crowd:
The Greek pursues him, and exults aloud :

470

Once more thank Phoebus for thy forfeit breath,
Or thank that swiftness which outstrips the death.
Well by Apollo are thy prayers repaid,
And oft that partial power has lent his aid.
Thou shalt not long the death deserved withstand,
If any god assist Tydides' hand.
Fly then, inglorious! but thy flight, this day
Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay.
Him, while he triumph'd, Paris eyed from far,
(The spouse of Helen, the fair cause of war :)
Around the fields his feather'd shafts he sent,
From ancient Ilus' ruin'd monument:

Behind the column placed, he bent his bow,
And wing'd an arrow at the unwary foe;
Just as he stoop'd, Agastrophus's crest

To seize, and draw the corselet from his breast, 480
The bow-string twang'd; nor flew the shaft in vain,
But pierced his foot, and nail'd it to the plain.
The laughing Trojan with a joyful spring,
Leaps from his ambush, and insults the king.

He bleeds! (he cries) some god has sped my dart,
Would the same god had fix'd it in his heart!
So Troy, relieved from that wide wasting hand,
Should breathe from slaughter, and in combat stand;
Whose sons now tremble at his darted spear,
As scatter'd lambs the rushing lion fear.

490

He dauntless thus: thou conqueror of the fair,
Thou woman warrior with the curling hair;
Vain archer! trusting to the distant dart,
Unskill'd in arms to act a manly part!
Thou hast but done what boys or women can;
Such hands may wound, but not incense a man.
Nor boast the scratch thy feeble arrow gave,
A coward's weapon never hurts the brave.
Not so this dart, which thou may'st one day feel:
Fate wings its flight, and death is on the steel.
Where this but lights, some noble life expires:
Its touch makes orphans, bathes the cheeks of sires,
Steeps earth in purple, gluts the birds of air,
And leaves such objects as distract the fair.
Ulysses hastens with a trembling heart,
Before him steps, and bending draws the dart:
Forth flows the blood; an eager pang succeeds:
Tydides mounts, and to the navy speeds.

Now on the field Ulysses stands alone,
The Greeks all fled, the Trojans pouring on;
But stands collected in himself, and whole,
And questions thus his own unconquer'd soul:
What farther subterfuge, what hopes remain?
What shame, inglorious, if I quit the plain!
What danger, singly if I stand the ground,
My friends all scatter'd, all the foes around!
Yet wherefore doubtful? let this truth suffice,
The brave meets danger, and the coward flies:
To die or conquer, proves a hero's heart;
And knowing this, I know a soldier's part.

Such thoughts revolving in his careful breast,
Near, and more near, the shady cohorts press'd:
These, in the warrior, their own fate enclose:
And round him deep the steely circle grows.
So fares a boar whom all the troop surrounds
Of shouting huntsmen, and of clamorous hounds;
He grinds his ivory tusks; he foams with ire,
His sanguine eye-balls glare with living fire:

500

By these, by those, on every part is plied;
And the red slaughter spreads on every side.
Pierced through the shoulder, first Deiopis fell,
Next Ennomus and Thoon sunk to hell;
Chersidamas, beneath the naval thrust,
Falls prone to earth, and grasps the bloody dust.
Charops, the son of Hippasus, was near;
Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear;
But to his aid his brother Socus flies,
Socus, the brave, the generous, and the wise:
Near as he drew, the warrior thus began:

O great Ulysses, much-enduring man!
Not deeper skill'd in every martial slight,
Than worn to toils, and active in the fight!
This day two brothers shall thy conquest grace,
And end at once the great Hippacian race,

530

540

Or thou beneath this lance must press the field-
He said, and forceful pierced his spacious shield:
Through the strong brass the ringing javelin thrown,
Plough'd half his side, and bared it to the bone.
By Pallas' care, the spear, though deep infix'd,
Stopp'd short of life, nor with his entrails mix'd. 550
The wound not mortal wise Ulysses knew,
Then furious thus (but first some steps withdrew :)
Unhappy man! whose death our hands shall grace!
Fate calls thee hence, and finish'd is thy race.
No longer check my conquests on the foe;
But, pierced by this, to endless darkness go,
And add one spectre to the realms below!
He spoke; while Socus, seized with sudden fright,
Trembling gave way, and turn'd his back to flight:
Between his shoulders pierced the following

dart,

And held its passage through the panting heart.
Wide in his breast appear'd the grizly wound;
He falls; his armour rings against the ground.
Then thus Ulysses, gazing on the slain;
Famed son of Hippasus! there press the plain;
There ends thy narrow span assign'd by fate,
Heaven owes Ulysses yet a longer date.
Ah, wretch! no father shall thy corpse compose,
Thy dying eyes no tender mother close;
But hungry birds shall tear those balls away,
And hovering vultures scream around their prey.
Me Greece shall honour, when I meet my doom,
With solemn funerals and a lasting tomb.

Then, raging with intolerable smart,
He writhes his body, and extracts the dart.
The dart a tide of spouting gore pursued,

510 And gladden'd Troy with sight of hostile blood.
Now troops on troops the fainting chief invade,
Forced he recedes, and loudly calls for aid.
Thrice to its pitch his lofty voice he rears;
The well-known voice thrice Menalaus hears:
Alarm'd, to Ajax Telamon he cried,
Who shares his labours, and defends his side.
O friend! Ulysses' shouts invade my ear;
Distress'd he seems, and no assistance near:
Strong as he is, yet, one opposed to all,
Oppress'd by multitudes, the best may fall.
Greece, robb'd of him, must bid her host despair,
And feel a loss not ages can repair.

520

560

570

580

1

600

Down his cleft side while fresh the blood distils,
He bounds aloft, and scuds from hills to hills:
Till life's warm vapour issuing through the wound,
Wild mountain-wolves the fainting beast surround;
Just as their jaws his prostrate limbs invade,
The lion rushes through the woodland shade,
The wolves, though hungry, scour dispersed away;
The lordly savage vindicates his prey.
Ulysses thus, unconquer'd by his pains,
A single warrior, half a host sustains:
But soon as Ajax heaves his tower-like shield,
The scatter'd crowds fly frighted o'er the field;
Atrides' arm the sinking hero stays,

And, saved from numbers, to his car conveys.

Victorious Ajax plies the routed crew;
And first Doryclus, Priam's son, he slew;
On strong Pandocus next inflicts a wound,
And lays Lysander bleeding on the ground.
As when a torrent swell'd with wintry rains,
Pours from the mountains o'er the deluged plains,
And pines and oaks, from their foundations torn,
A country's ruins! to the seas are borne :
Fierce Ajax thus o'erwhelms the yielding throng;
Men, steeds, and chariots, roll in heaps along.

(By the long lance, the sword, or ponderous stone, The ranks lie scatter'd, and the troops o'erthrown.) Ajax he shuns, through all the dire debate,

671

And fears that arm whose force he felt so late.
But partial Jove, espousing Hector's part,
Shot heaven bred horror through the Grecian's heart;
Confused, unnerved, in Hector's presence grown,
Amazed he stood, with terrors not his own.
O'er his broad back his moony shield he threw,
And glaring round, with tardy steps withdrew.
Thus the grim lion his retreat maintains,
Beset with watchful dogs and shouting swains;
Repulsed by numbers from the nightly stalls,
Though rage impels him, and though hunger calls.
610 Long stands the showering darts and missile fires;
Then sourly slow the indignant beast retires.
So turn'd stern Ajax, by whole hosts repell'd,
While his swoln heart at every step rebell'd.

620

680

690

As the slow beast with heavy strength indued
In some wide field by troops of boys pursued,
Though round his sides a wooden tempest rain,
Crops the tall harvest, and lays waste the plain;
Thick on his hide the hollow blows resound,
The patient animal maintains his ground,
Scarce from the field with all their efforts chased,
And stirs but slowly when he stirs at last.
On Ajax thus a weight of Trojans hung,
The strokes redoubled on his buckler rung;
Confiding now in bulky strength he stands,
Now turns, and backward bears the yielding bands:
Now stiff recedes, yet hardly seems to fly,
And threats his followers with retorted eye.
Fix'd as the bar between two warring powers,
While hissing darts descend in iron showers:
630 In his broad buckler many a weapon stood,
Its surface bristled with a quivering wood;
And many a javelin, guiltless, on the plain
Marks the dry dust, and thirsts for blood in vain.
But bold Eurypylus his aid imparts,
And dauntless springs beneath a cloud of darts;
Whose eager javelin launch'd against the foe,
Great Apisaon felt the fatal blow;

But Hector, from this scene of slaughter far,
Raged on the left, and ruled the tide of war:
Loud groans proclaim his progress through the plain,
And deep Scamander swells with heaps of slain.
There Nestor and Idomeneus oppose
The warrior's fury, there the battle glows:
There fierce on foot, or from the chariot's height,
His sword deforms the beauteous ranks of fight.
The spouse of Helen dealing darts around,
Had pierced Machaon with a distant wound;
In his right shoulder the broad shaft appear'd,
And trembling Greece for her physician fear'd.
To Nestor then Idomeneus begun :
Glory of Greece, old Neleus' valiant son!
Ascend thy chariot, haste with speed away,
And great Machaon to the ships convey.
A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal,
Is more than armies to the public weal.
Old Nestor mounts the seat: beside him rode
The wounded offspring of the healing god.
He lends the lash; the steeds with sounding feet 640
Shake the dry field, and thunder toward the fleet.
But now Cebriones, from Hector's car,
Survey'd the various fortune of the war.
While here (he cried) the flying Greeks are slain,
Trojans on Trojans yonder load the plain.
Before great Ajax see the mingled throng
Of men and chariots driven in heaps along!
I know him well, distinguish'd o'er the field
By the broad glittering of the seven-fold shield.
Thither, O Hector, thither urge thy steeds,
There danger calls, and there the combat bleeds;
There horse and foot in mingled deaths unite,
And groans of slaughter mix with shouts of fight.
Thus having spoke, the driver's lash resounds:
Swift through the ranks the rapid chariot bounds;
Stung by the stroke, the coursers scour the fields,
O'er heaps of carcasses, and hills of shields.
The horses' hoofs are bathed in hero's gore,
And, dashing, purple all the car before;
The groaning axle sable drops distils,
And mangled carnage clogs the rapid wheels.
Here, Hector, plunging through the thickest fight,
Broke the dark phalanx, and let in the light:

650

From his torn liver the red current flow'd,
And his slack knees desert their dying load.
The victor rushing to despoil the dead,
From Paris' bow a vengeful arrow fled;
Fix'd in his nervous thigh the weapon stood,
Fix'd was the point, but broken was the wood.
Back to the lines the wounded Greek retired,
Yet thus, retreating, his associates fired:

700

710

Thus urged the chief: a generous troop appears,
Who spread their bucklers, and advance their spears,
To guard their wounded friend: while thus they stand
With pious care, great Ajax joins the band:
Each takes new courage at the hero's sight;
The hero rallies, and renews the fight.

Thus raged both armies like conflicting fires,
While Nestor's chariot far from fight retires:
660 His coursers steep'd in sweat, and stain'd with gore,
The Greeks' preserver, great Machaon, bore.
That hour, Achilles from the topmost height
Of his proud fleet o'erlook'd the fields of fight;

730

His feasted eyes beheld around the plain
The Grecian rout, the slaying, and the slain.
His friend Machaon singled from the rest,
A transient pity touch'd his vengeful breast.
Straight to Mencetius' much-loved son he sent ;
Graceful as Mars, Patroclus quits his tent :
In evil hour! Then fate decreed his doom;
And fix'd the date of all his woes to come,
Why calls my friend? Thy loved injunctions lay;
Whate'er thy will, Patroclus shall obey.
741

O first of friends! (Pelides thus replied)

Still at my heart, and ever at my side!

The time is come, when yon despairing host
Shall learn the value of the man they lost:

E'en till the flames consume our fleet he stays, 810
And waits the rising of the fatal blaze.
Chief after chief the raging foe destroys;
Calm he looks on, and every death enjoys.

Now at my knees the Greeks shall pour their moan, Now the slow course of all-impairing time
And proud Atrides tremble on his throne.
Go now Nestor, and from him be taught
What wounded warrior late his chariot brought:
For, seen at distance, and but seen behind,
His form recall'd Machaon to my mind;
Nor could I, through yon clouds, discern his face,
The coursers pass'd me with so swift a pace.

The hero said. His friend obey'd with haste;
Through intermingled ships and tents he pass'd;
The chiefs descending from their car he found;
The panting steeds Eurymedon unbound.
The warriors standing on the breezy shore,
To dry their sweat, and wash away the gore,
Here paused a moment, while the gentle gale
Convey'd that freshness the cool seas exhale;
Then to consult on farther methods went,
And took their seats beneath the shady tent.
The draught prescribed, fair Hecamede prepares,
Arsinous daughter, graced with golden hairs,
'Whom to his aged arms, a royal slave,
Greece, as the prize of Nestor's wisdom, gave :)
A table first with azure feet she placed,
Whose ample orb a brazen charger graced :
Honey new press'd, the sacred flour of wheat,
And wholesome garlic crown'd the savoury treat.
Next her white hand a spacious goblet brings,
A goblet sacred to the Pylian kings

750

770

Unstrings my nerves, and ends my manly prime;
Oh! had I still that strength my youth possess'd,
When this bold arm the Epeian powers oppress'd,
The bulls of Elis in glad triumph led,
And stretch'd the great Itymonæus dead!
Then from my fury fled the trembling swains,
And ours was all the plunder of the plains:
Fifty white flocks, full fifty herds of swine,
As many goats, as many lowing kine;
And thrice the number of unrivall'd steeds,
All teeming females, and of generous breeds,
These, as my first essay of arms, I won;

820

830

840

Old Neleus gloried in his conquering son.
760 Thus Elis forced, her long arrears restored,
And shares were parted to each Pylian lord.
The state of Pyle was sunk to last despair,
When the proud Elians first commenced the war :
For Neleus' sons Alcides' rage had slain :
Of twelve bold brothers, I alone remain !
Oppress'd, we arm'd; and now this conquest gain'd,
My sire three hundred chosen sheep obtain'd.
(That large reprisal he might justly claim,
For prize defrauded, and insulted fame,
When Elis' monarch at the public course
Detain'd his chariot and victorious horse.)
The rest the people shared; myself survey'd
The just partition, and due victims paid.
Three days were past, when Elis rose to war,
With many a courser, and with many a car;
The sons of Actor at their army's head
(Young as they were) the vengeful squadrons led.
High on a rock fair Thryoëssa stands,
Our utmost frontier on the Pylian lands;
780 Not far the streams of famed Alphaus flow.
The stream they pass'd, and pitch'd their tents below.
Pallas, descending in the shades of night,
Alarms the Pylians, and commands the fight.
Each burns for fame, and swells with martial pride
Myself the foremost; but my sire denied:
Fear'd for my youth, exposed to stern alarms;
And stopp'd my chariot, and detain'd my arms.
My sire denied in vain: on foot I fled

From eldest times: the massy sculptured vase,
Glittering with golden studs, four handles grace,
And curling vines around each handle roll'd,
Support two turtle-doves emboss'd in gold.
A massy weight, yet heaved with ease by him,
When the brisk nectar overlook'd the brim.
Temper'd in this, the nymph of form divine
Pours a large portion of the Pramnian wine;
With goats' milk cheese a flavourous taste bestows,
And last with flour the smiling surface strews.
This for the wounded prince the dame prepares;
The cordial beverage reverend Nestor shares.
Salubrious draughts the warriors' thirst allay
And pleasing conference beguiles the day.

Meantime Patroclus, by Achilles sent,
Unheard approach'd, and stood before the tent.
Old Nestor rising then, the hero led

To his high seat: the chief refused, and said;
'Tis now no season for these kind delays;
The great Achilles with impatience stays.
To great Achilles this respect I owe;
Who asks what hero, wounded by the foe,
Was borne from combat by thy foaming steeds?
With grief I see the great Machaon bleeds:
This to report, my hasty course I bend :
Thou know'st the fiery temper of my friend.

790

Amidst our chariots; for the goddess led.

Along fair Arene's delightful plain,
Soft Minyas rolls his waters to the main.

850

There, horse and foot, the Pylian troops unite, 860
And, sheath'd in arms, expect the dawning light.
Thence, ere the sun advanced his noon-day flame,
To great Alphaus' sacred source we came.
There first to Jove our solemn rites were paid;
An untamed heifer pleased the blue-eyed maid;
A bull Alphæus; and a bull was slain
To the blue monarch of the watery main.

In arms we slept, beside the winding flood,
While round the town the fierce Epeians stood.
Soon as the sun, with all-revealing ray,
Flamed in the front of heaven, and gave the day,
Bright scenes of arms, and works of war appear;
The nations meet; there Pylos, Elis here.
The first who fell, beneath my javelin bled;
King Augias' son, and spouse of Agamede;
(She that all simples' healing virtues knew,
And every herb that drinks the morning dew.)
I seized his car, the van of battle led:

870

680

The Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled.
The foe dispersed, their bravest warrior kill'd,
Fierce as a whirlwind now I swept the field:
Full fifty captive chariots graced my train;
Two chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain.
Then Actor's sons had died, but Neptune shrouds
The youthful heroes in a veil of clouds.
O'er heapy shields, and o'er the prostrate throng,
Collecting spoils, and slaughtering all along,
Through wide Baprasian fields we forced the foes,
Where o'er the vales the Olenian rocks arose:
Till Pallas stopp'd us where Alisium flows:
E'en there the hindmost of their rear I slay,
And the same arm that led, concludes the day;
Then back to Pyle triumphant take my way.
There to high Jove were public thanks assign'd,
As first of gods; to Nestor, of mankind.
Such then I was, impell'd by youthful blood;
So proved my valour for my country's good.
Achilles with unactive fury glows,

|Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand, The public mart and courts of justice stand, Where the tall fleet of great Ulysses lies,

940

And altars to the guardian gods arise;
There sad he met the brave Evæmon's son,
Large painful drops from all his members run:
An arrow's head yet rooted in his wound,
The sable blood in circles mark'd the ground,
As faintly reeling he confess'd the smart ;
Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart;
Divine compassion touch'd Patroclus' breast,
Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend address'd:
Ah, hapless leaders of the Grecian host!
Thus must ye perish on a barbarous coast?
Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore,
Far from your friends, and from your native shore?
Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand?
Resists she yet the raging Hector's hand?
Or are her heroes doom'd to die with shame,
And this the period of our wars and fame?

Eurypylus' replies: No more, my friend;
Greece is no more! this day her glories end.
890 E'en to the ships victorious Troy pursues,
Her force increasing as her toil renews.

900

950

Those chiefs, that used her utmost rage to meet, 960
Lie pierced with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet.
But thou, Patroclus! act a friendly part,
Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly dart;
With lukewarm water wash the gore away,
With healing balms the raging smart allay,
Such as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy,
Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.
Of two famed surgeons, Podalirius stands
This hour surrounded by the Trojan bands;
And great Machaon, wounded in his tent,
Now wants the succour which so oft he lent.

To him the chief. What then remains to do?
The event of things the gods alone can view.
Charged by Achilles' great command I fly,
And bear in haste the Pylian king's reply:
But thy distress this instant claims relief.

970

He said, and in his arms upheld the chief.
910 The slaves their master's slow approach survey'd,
And hides of oxen on the floor display'd:
There stretch'd at length the wounded hero lay, 980
Patroclus cut the forky steel away.

And gives to passion what to Greece he owes.
How shall he grieve, when to the eternal shade
Her hosts shall sink, nor his the power to aid?
O friend! my memory recalls the day,
When, gathering aids along the Grecian sea,
I and Ulysses touch'd at Phthia's port,
And enter'd Peleus' hospitable court.
A bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice,
And pour'd libations on the flaming thighs.
Thyself, Achilles, and thy reverend sire,
Menatius, turn'd the fragments on the fire.
Achilles sees us, to the feast invites!
Social we sit, and share the genial rites.
We then explain'd the cause on which we came,
Urged you to arms, and found you fierce for fame.
Your ancient father's generous precepts gave;
Peleus said only this- My son! be brave.'
Mencetius thus: "Though great Achilles shine
In strength superior, and of race divine,
Yet cooler thoughts thy elder years attend;
Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend.'
Thus spoke your father at Thessalia's court;
Words now forgot, though now of vast import.
Ah! try the utmost that a friend can say,
Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey.
Some favouring god Achilles' heart may move;
Though deaf to glory, he may yield to love.
If some dire oracle his breast alarm,
If aught from heaven withhold his saving arm;
Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine,
If thou but lead the Myrmidonian line;
Clad in Achilles' arms, if thou appear,
Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from war;
Press'd by fresh forces, her over-labour'd train,
Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again.
This touch'd his generous heart, and from the tent,
Along the shore with hasty strides he went;

920

930

Then in his hands a bitter root he bruised;
The wound he wash'd, the styptic juice infused.
The closing flesh that instant ceased to glow,
The wound to torture, and the blood to flow.

BOOK XII.

ARGUMENT.

The Battle at the Grecian wall.

The Greeks being retired into their intrenchments, Hec tor attemps to force them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamus advises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The Trojans follow his counsel, and, having divided their army into five bodies of foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of an eagle with a serpent in his ta lons, which appeared on the left hand of the Trojans, Polydamus endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector opposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many actions, Sarpedon makes the first breach in the wall: Hector also casting a stone of vast size

forces open one of the gates, and enters at the head] The bottom bare, (a formidable show!)
of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians And bristled thick with sharpen'd stakes below.
even to their ships.
The foot alone this strong defence could force,

BOOK XII.

WHILE thus the hero's pious cares attend,
The cure and safety of his wounded friend,
Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engage,
And mutual deaths are dealt with mutual rage.
Nor long the trench or lofty walls oppose;
With gods averse the ill-fated works arose;
Their powers neglected, and no victim slain,
The walls were raised, the trenches sunk in vain.
Without the gods, how short a period stands
The proudest monument of mortal hands!
This stood, while Hector and Achilles raged,"
While sacred Troy the warring hosts engaged;
But when her sons were slain, her city burn'd,
And what survived of Greece to Greece return'd,
Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore,
Then Ida's summits pour'd their watery store;
Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their rills,
Caresus roaring down the stony hills,
Æsepus, Granicus, with mingled force,
And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful source!
And gulfy Simois, rolling to the main ;
Helmets, and shields, and godlike heroes slain:
These turn'd by Phoebus from their wonted ways,
Deluged the rampire nine continual days;
The weight of waters saps the yielding wall,
And to the sea the floating bulwarks fall.
Incessant cataracts the Thunderer pours,
And half the skies descend in sluicy showers
The god of ocean, marching stern before,
With his huge trident wounds the trembling shore,
Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves,
And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves.
Now smooth'd with sand, and levell'd by the flood,
No fragment tells where once the wonder stood;
In their old bounds the rivers roll again,
Shine 'twixt the hills, or wander o'er the plain.

But this the gods in later times perform:
As yet the bulwark stood, and braved the storm;
The strokes yet echo'd of contending powers;
War thunder'd at the gates, and blood distain'd the

towers.

Smote by the arm of Jove, with dire dismay,
Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay:
Hector's approach in every wind they hear,
And Hector's fury every moment fear.
He, like a whirlwind, toss'd the scattering throng,
Mingled the troops, and drove the field along.
So 'midst the dogs and hunters' daring bands,
Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands;
Arm'd foes around a dreadful circle form,
And hissing javelins rain an iron storm:
His powers untamed their bold assault defy,
And where he turns, the rout disperse, or die:
He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all,
And if he falls, his courage makes him fall.
With equal rage encompass'd Hector glows;
Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows.
The panting steeds impatient fury breathe,
But snort and tremble at the gulf beneath;
Just on the brink they neigh, and paw the ground,
And the turf trembles, and the skies resound.
Eager they view'd the prospect dark and deep,
Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep:

And
try the
pass impervious to the horse.
This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave,
Restrain'd great Hector, and this council gave:

Oh thou! bold leader of the Trojan bands,
And you, confederate chiefs from foreign lands! 70
What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find,
The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind?
No pass through those, without a thousand wounds,
No space for combat in yon narrow bounds.
Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown,
On certain dangers we too rashly run:
10 If 'tis his will our haughty foes to tame,
Oh may this instant end the Grecian name!
Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall,
And one great day destroy and bury all!
But should they turn, and here oppress our train,
What hopes, what methods of retreat remain?
Wedged in the trench, by our own troops confused,
In one promiscuous carnage crush'd and bruised,
All Troy must perish, if their arms prevail,
Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale.

20 Hear then, ye warriors! and obey with speed;
Back from the trenches let your steeds be led,
Then all alighting, wedged in firm array,
Proceed on foot, and Hector lead the way.

30

40

80

90

So Greece shall stoop before our conquering power,
And this (if Jove consent) her fatal hour.

100

This counsel pleased: the godlike Hector sprung
Swift from his seat; his clanging armour rung.
The chief's example follow'd by his train,
Each quits his car, and issues on the plain.
By orders strict the charioteers enjoin'd,
Compel the coursers to their ranks behind.
The forces part in five distinguish'd bands,
And all obey their several chiefs' commands.
The best and bravest in the first conspire,
Pant for the fight, and threat the fleet with fire:
Great Hector glorious in the van of these,
Polydamus, and brave Cebriones.
Before the next the gracefnl Paris shines,
And bold Alcathous, and Agenor joins.
The sons of Priam with the third appear,
Deiphobus, and Helenus the seer;

In arms with these the mighty Asius stood,
Who drew from Hyrtacus his noble blood,
And whom Arisba's yellow coursers bore,
The coursers fed on Selle's winding shore.
Antenor's sons the fourth battalion guide,
And great Æneas, born on fountful Ide.
Divine Sarpedon the last band obey'd,
Whom Glaucus and Asteropæus aid,
Next him, the bravest at their army's head,
50 But he more brave than all the hosts he led.

Now with compacted shields in close array,
The moving legions speed their headlong way:
Already in their hopes they fire the fleet,
And see the Grecians gasping at their feet.
While every Trojan thus, and every aid,
The advice of wise Polydamas obey'd;
Asius alone confiding in his car,

His vaunted coursers urged to meet the war.
Unhappy hero! and advised in vain!

60 Those wheels returning ne'er shall mark the plain;
No more those coursers with triumphant joy,
Restore their master to the gates of Troy!

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