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To Phthia's realms no hoftile troops they led,
Safe in her vales my warlike courfers fed;
Far hence remov'd, the hoarfe-refounding main,
And walls of rocks, fecure my native reign,
Whose fruitful foil luxuriant harvests grace,
Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race.
Hither we fail'd a voluntary throng,
T' avenge a private, not a public wrong :
What else to Troy th' assembled nations draws,
But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother's caufe?
Is this the pay our blood and toils deserve ;
Difgrac'd and injur'd by the man we serve?
And dar'st thou threat to snatch my prize away,
Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day?

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A prize as fmall, O tyrant! match'd with thine, 215 As thy own actions if compar'd to mine.

Thine in each conqueft is the wealthy prey,

Though mine the fweat and danger of the day.
Some trivial prefents to my fhips I bear,

Or barren praises pay the wounds of war.

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But know, proud monarch, I'm thy flave no more;
My fleet shall waft me to Theffalia's fhore..
Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain,

What fpoils, what conquefts, fhall Atrides gain?
To this the king: Fly, mighty warrior! fly,
Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy.
There want not chiefs in fuch a cause to fight,
And Jove himself shall guard a monarch's right.
Of all the kings (the God's diftinguish'd care)
To power fuperior none fuch hatred bear:

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Strife and debate thy reftlefs foul employ,

And wars and horrours are thy favage joy.

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If thou haft ftrength, 'twas Heaven that strength beftow'd,
For know, vain man! thy valour is from God.
Hafte, launch thy veffels, fly with speed away,
Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway :
I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
Thy short-liv'd friendship, and thy groundless hate.
Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons; but here
'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear.
Know, if the God the beauteous dame demand,
My bark fhall waft her to her native land;
But then prepare, imperious prince ! prepare,
Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair :
Ev'n in thy tent I'll feize the blooming prize,

Thy lov'd Brifeïs with the radiant eyes.

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Hence fhalt thou prove my might, and curfe the hour, Thou stood'st a rival of imperial power;

And hence to all our hoft it shall be known,

That kings are fubject to the Gods alone.

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Achilles heard, with grief and rage oppreft,
His heart fwell'd high, and labour'd in his breast.
Distracting thoughts by turns his bofom rul'd,
Now fir'd by wrath, and now by reafon cool'd:
That prompts his hand to draw the deadly fword, 255
Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty lord;
This whispers foft, his vengeance to control,

And calm the rifing tempeft of his foul.
Just as in anguifh of fufpence he stay'd,

While half unheath'd appear'd the glittering blade, 260

Minerva

Minerva fwift defcended from above,
Sent by the fifter and the wife of Jove
(For both the princes claim'd her equal care);
Behind the stood, and by the golden hair
Achilles feiz'd; to him alone confeft;
A fable cloud conceal'd her from the reft.
He fees, and fudden to the goddess cries,
Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes.
Defcends Minerva in her guardian care,

A heavenly witness of the wrongs I bear
From Atreus' fon: then let thofe eyes that view
The daring crime, behold the vengeance too.
Forbear! (the progeny of Jove replies)
To calm thy fury, I forsake the skies :
Let great Achilles, to the Gods resign'd,

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To reason yield the empire o'er his mind.

By awful Juno this command is given;

The king and you are both the care of Heaven,
The force of keen reproaches let him feel,
But sheath, obedient, thy revenging steel.
For I pronounce (and trust a heavenly Power)
Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour.

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When the proud monarch shall thy arms implore,
And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store,
Then let revenge no longer bear the fway,
Command thy paffions, and the Gods obey.

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To her Pelides : With regardful ear 'Tis juft, O Goddess! I thy dictates hear. Hard as it is, my vengeance I fupprefs:

Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will blefs. 290

Не

He faid, obfervant of the blue-ey'd Maid;
Then in the sheath return'd the shining blade.
The Goddess swift to high Olympus flies,
And joins the facred senate of the skies.

Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forfook,
Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke.
O monster ! mix'd of insolence and fear,
Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer!

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When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare,
Or nobly face the horrid front of war?

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'Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try,

Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die.

So much 'tis fafer through the camp to go,
And rob a fubject, than defpoil a foe.
Scourge of thy people, violent and base !
Sent in Jove's anger on a slavish race,
Who, loft to fenfe of generous freedom past,
Are tam'd to wrongs, or this had been thy last.
Now by this facred fceptre hear me swear,

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Which never more shall leaves or bloffoms bear,
Which fever'd from the trunk (as I from thee)
On the bare mountains left its parent tree;
This fceptre, form'd by temper'd steel to prove
An enfign of the delegates of Jove,

3.10

From whom the power of laws and juftice springs 315 (Tremendous oath! inviolate to kings) :

By this I fwear, when bleeding Greece again
Shall call Achilles, the fhall call in vain.

When, flush'd with flaughter, Hector comes to spread
The purpled fhore with mountains of the dead,

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Then

Then shalt thou mourn th' affront thy madness gave; Forc'd to deplore, when impotent to fave:

Then rage in bitternefs of foul, to know

This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe.

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He spoke; and furious hurl'd against the ground 325 His fceptre ftarr'd with golden ftuds around. Then fternly filent fat. With like disdain, The raging king return'd his frowns again. To calm their paffions with the words of age, Slow from his feat arofe the Pylian fage, Experienc'd Neftor, in perfuafion fkill'd, Words fweet as honey from his lips diftill'd; Two generations now had pass'd away, Wife by his rules, and happy by his fway; Two ages o'er his native realm he reign'd, And now th' example of the third remain'd. All view'd with awe the venerable man;

Who thus with mild benevolence began :

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What shame, what woe is this to Greece! what joy To Troy's proud monarch, and the friends of Troy ! That adverfe Gods commit to ftern debate

The beft, the braveft of the Grecian state.

Young as ye are, this youthful heat restrain,
Nor think your Neftor's years and wisdom vain.
A Godlike race of heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more thefe aged eyes shall view!
Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame,
Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathless name;
Thefeus, endued with more than mortal might,
Or Polyphemus, like the Gods in fight?

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