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ARGUMENT.

The Night Adventure of Diomed and Ulyffes..

UPON the refufal of Achilles to return to the army, the diftrefs of Agamemnon is defcribed in the moft lively manner. He takes no reft that night, but paffes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and contriving all poffible methods for the public fafety. Menelaus, Neftor, Ulyffes, and Diomed, are employed in raifing the rest of the captains. They call a council of war, and determine to fend scouts into the enemy's camp, to learn their pofture, and difcover their intentions. Diomed undertakes this hazardous enterprize, and makes choice of Ulyffes for his companion. In their paffage they furprize Dolon, whom Hector had fent on a like defign to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are informed of the fituation of the Trojan and auxiliary forces, and particularly of Rhefus, and the Thracians who were lately arrived. They pafs on with fuccefs; kill Rhefus, with feveral of his officers, and feize the famous horfes of that prince, with which they return in triumph to the camp.

The fame night continues; the fcene lies in the two camps.

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LL night the chiefs before their veffels lay,
And loft in fleep the labours of the day:
All but the king; with various thoughts oppreft,
His country's cares lay rolling in his breast.
As when, by lightnings, Jove's ætherial power
Foretells the rattling hail, or weighty shower,
Or fends foft fnows to whiten all the fhore,
Or bids the brazen throat of war to roar;
By fits one flash fucceeds as one expires,

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And heaven flames thick with momentary fires.
So bursting frequent from Atrides' breaft,
Sighs following fighs his inward fears confeft.
Now o'er the fields, dejected, he furveys

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From thousand Trojan fires the mounting blaze;
Hears in the paffing wind their musick blow,
And marks diftinct the voices of the foe.
Now looking backwards to the fleet and coast,
Anxious he forrows for th' endanger'd host.
He rends his hairs in facrifice to Jove,
And fues to him that ever lives above:

Inly he groans; while glory and despair

Divide his heart, and wage a doubtful war.

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A thousand cares his labouring breast revolves;
To feek fage Neftor now the chief refolves,
With him, in wholefome counfels, to debate
What yet remains to save th' afflicted state.
He rofe, and first he caft his mantle round,
Next on his feet the fhining fandals bound;
A lion's yellow fpoils his back conceal'd;
His warlike hand a pointed javelin held.
Mean while his brother, preft with equal woes,
Alike deny'd the gifts of foft repofe,

Laments for Greece; that in his caufe before
So much had fuffer'd, and muft fuffer more.
A leopard's spotted hide his fhoulders spread;
A brazen helmet glitter'd on his head;
Thus (with a javelin in his hand) he went
To wake Atrides in the royal tent.
Already wak'd, Atrides he defcry'd,
His armour buckling at his vessel's fide.
Joyful they met; the Spartan thus begun;
Why puts my brother his bright armour on ?
Sends he some spy, amidst these filent hours,
To try yon camp, and watch the Trojan powers?
But fay, what hero fhall fustain that task ?
Such bold exploits uncommon courage ask ;
Guidelefs, alone, through night's dark shade to go,
And 'midft. a hoftile camp explore the foe!

To whom the king: In fuch diftrefs we ftand,
No vulgar counsels our affairs demand;
Greece to preferve, is now no eafy part,
But asks high wifdom, deep design, and art:

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For

For Jove averfe our humble prayer denies,
And bows his head to Hector's facrifice.
What eye has witness'd, or what ear believ'd,
In one great day, by one great arm atchiev'd,
Such wondrous deeds as Hector's hand has done,
And we beheld, the last revolving fun

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What honours the belov'd of Jove adorn

Sprung from no God, and of no Goddess born,
Yet fuch his acts, as Greeks unborn fhall tell,
And curfe the battle where their fathers fell.

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Now fpeed thy hafty courfe along the fleet,
There call great Ajax, and the prince of Crete;
Ourself to hoary Neftor will repair;

To keep the guards on duty, be his care;
(For Neftor's influence beft that quarter guides,.
Whose fon with Merion o'er the watch presides.)
To whom the Spartan: These thy orders borne,
Say fhall I stay, or with dispatch return ?
There shalt thou stay (the king of men reply'd)
Elfe may we mifs to meet, without a guide,
The paths fo many, and the camp so wide.
Still, with your voice, the flothful foldiers raife,
Urge, by their father's fame, their future praise.
Forget we now our state and lofty birth;

Not titles here, but works, must prove our worth.
To labour is the lot of man below;

And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe,
This faid, each parted to his feveral cares ;
The king to Neftor's fable fhip repairs;
The fage protector of the Greeks he found
Stretch'd in his bed with all his arms around;

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