"Not Atreus' son, tho' now himself he boast

"The King of Men and fov'reign of the host." 110 Then boldly he. "Nor does the god complain "Of vows withheld or hecatombs unflain. "Chryfeïs to her awful fire refus'd,

“The gifts rejected, and the priest abus’¿,

"Call down these judgments, and for more they call,

Just ready on th' exhausted camp to fall, "Till ranfome-free the damfel is bestow'd,

"And hecatombs are fent to footh the god, "To Chryfa fent. Perhaps Apollo's rage

116

"The gifts may expiate and the priest affuage." 120
He spoke and fat; when with an angry frown
The chief of kings upftarted from his throne.
Difdain and vengeance in his bofom rise,
Lour in his brow and fparkle in his eyes;
Full at the priest their fiery orbs he bent,
And all at once his fury found a vent.

325

"Augur of ills (for never good to me "Did that most inaufpicious voice decree) "For ever ready to denounce my woes, "When Greece is punifh'd I am still the caufe; 130 "And now when Phoebus fpreads his plagues abroad "And wastes our camp, it is I provoke the god, "Because my blooming captive I detain,

"And the large ranfome is produc'd in vain. "Fond of the maid, my queen in beauty's pride 135

"Ne'er charm'd me more a virgin and a bride;

"Not Clytemnestra boasts a nobler grace,

"A fweeter temper or a lovelier face,

"In works of female fkill hath more command,
"Or guides the needle with a nicer hand:
"Yet the fhall go; the fair our peace shall buy;
"Better I fuffer than my people die.

"But mark me well; fee instantly prepar'd
“A full equivalent, a new reward:
"Nor is it meet while each enjoys his share
"Your chief fhould lofe his portion of the war;
"In vain your chief whilft the dear prize I boast
Is wrefted from me and for ever loft."

To whom the swift purfuer quick reply'd; "Oh funk in avarice, and fwol'n with pride!

140

145

150

"How fhall the Greeks, tho' large of foul they be, "Collect their fever'd fpoils, a heap for thee "To fearch a-new, and cull the choiceft share "Amid the mighty harvest of the war? "Then yield thy captive to the god refign'd, "Affur'd a tenfold recompenfe to find

155

"When Jove's decree fhall throw proud Ilion down "And give to plunder the devoted town."

160

"Think not," Atrides anfwer'd, "tho' thou fhine "Graceful in beauty like the pow'rs divine, "Think not thy wiles in fpecious words convey'd "From its firm purpose shall my foul diffuade. "Muit I alone bereft fit down with fhame, "And thou infulting keep thy captive dame ?

"If as I afk the large-foul'd Greek's confent "Full recompenfe to give I ftand content: "If not, a prize I shall myself decree

.165

"From him, or him, or else perhaps from thee, "While the proud prince defpoil'd shall rage in vain. "But break we here? the reft let time explain. 170 "Lanch now a welltrimm'd galley from the shore, “With hands experienc'd at the bending oar; "Enclose the hecatomb, and then with care “To the high deck convey the captive fair. "The facred bark let fage Ulyffes guide, "Or Ajax or Idomeneus prefide;

175

180

"Or thou, O mighty Man! the chief fhalt be, "And who more fit to footh the god than thee?" "Shameless, and poor of foul!" the prince replies, And on the Monarch casts his scornful eyes, "What Greek henceforth will march at thy command "In fearch of danger on the doubtful strand? "Who in the face of day provoke the fight, "Or tempt the secret ambush of the night? "Not I be fure. Henceforward I am free, "For ne'er was Priam's house a foe to me: "Far from their inroads in my pastures feed "The lowing heifer and the pamper'd steed. "On Phthia's hills our fruits fecurely grow,

185

"And ripen careless of the distant foe,

190

"Between whofe realms and our Theffalian shore "Unnumber'd mountains rife and billows roar.

"For thine and for thy baffled brother's fame "Acrofs thofe feas, difdainful,Man! I came; "Yet, Infolent! by arbitrary sway

195

“Thou talk'ft of seizing on my rightful prey, "The prize whofe purchase toils and dangers cost, "And giv'n by fuffrage of the Grecian host. "What town when fack'd by our victorious bands "But still brought wealth to those rapacious hands? "To me thus fcorn'd contented doft thou yield 201 "My fhare of blood in the tumultuous field; "But ftill the flow'r of all the fpoil is thine; "There claim'ft thou most, nor e'er did I repine: "Whate'er was giv'n I took, and thought it beft, 205 "With flaughter tir'd, and panting after reft. "To Phthia now, for I fhall fight no more,

61

My fhips their crooked prows fhall turn from fhore. "When I am fcorn'd I think I well forefee "What spoils and pillage will be won by thee. 210 "Hence," cry'd the Monarch, "hence, without

delay;

"Think not, vain Man! my voice shall urge thy stay:
"Others thou leav't to the great cause inclin'd;
"A league of kings thou leav'it and Jove behind.
"Of all the chiefs doft thou oppofe me most ; 215
"Outrage and uproar are thy only boast,

"Discord and jars thy joy. But learn to know
"If thou art ftrong it is Jove hath made thee so.

"Go at thy pleasure, none will stop thy way;
"Go, bid thy baseborn Myrmidons obey.
"Thou nor thy rage shall my refolves fubdue;
"I fix my purpose and my threats renew.
"Since it is decreed I must the maid reftore
"A fhip fhall waft her to th' offended pow'r;
"But fair Brifeïs, thy allotted prize,

Myfelf will feize, and feize before thy eyes, "That thou and each audacious man may fee "How vain the rash attempt to cope with me.'

Stung to the foul tumult'cus thoughts began
This way and that to rend the godlike man.
To force a paffage with his falchion drawn
And hurl th' imperial boaster from his throne
He now refolves; and now refolves again
To quell his fury and his arm reftrain.

220

225

230

While thus by turns his rage and reafon fway'd, 235
And half unfbeath'd he held the glitt'ring blade,
That moment Juno, whofe impartial eye
Watch'd o'er them both, fent Pallas from the sky.
She flew, and caught his yellow hair behind,
(To him alone the radiant goddess fhin'd;)
Sudden he turn'd, and started with furprise;
Rage and revenge flash'd dreadful in his eyes.

240

Then thus with hasty words: “O heav'nly-born! "Com'ft thou to fee proud Agamemnon's scorn? "But thou fhalt fee (my fword fhall make it good) 245 "This glutted sand smoke with the tyrant's blood."