Now Heaven forfakes the fight: th' immortals To human force and human skill, the field: [yield, Dark thowers of javelins fly from foes to foes; Now here, now there, the tide of combat flows; While Troy's fam'd + ftreams, that bound the deathful plain,

On either fide run purple to the main.

Great Ajax first to conqueft led the way, Broke the thick ranks, and turn the doubtful day. The Thracian Acamas his faulchion found, And hew'd th' enormous giant to the ground; His thundering arm a deadly stroke imprest Where the black horfe-hair nodded o'er his creft: Fix'd in his front the brazen weapon lies, And feals in endless fhades his fwimming eyes. Next Teuthras' son diftain'd the fands with blood, Axylus, hofpitable, rich, and good: In fair Arifbe's walls (his native place) He held his feat; a friend to human race. Faft by the road his ever-open door Oblig'd the wealthy, and reliev'd the poor. To ftern Tydides now he falls a prey, No friend to guard him in the dreadful day! Breathless the good man fell, and by his fide His faithful fervant, old Calefius, dy’d.

By great Euryalus was Drefus flain, And next he laid Opheltius on the plain. Two twins were near, bold, beautiful and young, From a fair Naiad and Bucolion fprung: (Laomedon's white flocks Bucolion fed, That monarch's firft-born by a foreign bed; In fecret woods he won the Naiad's grace,

And two fair infants crown'd his ftrong embrace.)

Here dead they lay in all their youthful charms;
The ruthless victor ftripp'd their shining arms.
Aftyalus by Polypotes fell;
Ulyffes' fpear Pydytes fent to hell;
By Teucer's fhaft brave Aretaön bled,
And Neftor's fon laid stern Ablerus dead;
Great Agamemnon leader of the brave,
The mortal wound of rich Elatus gave,
Who held in Pedafus his proud abode,

And till'd the banks where filver Satnio flow'd.
Melanthius by Eurypylus was flain;
And Phylacus from Leitus flies in vain.

Unbleft Aftraftus next at mercy lies
Beneath the Spartan spear, a living prize.
Star'd with the din and tumult of the fight,
His headlong fteeds precipitate in fight,
Ruth'd on a tamarifk's ftrong trunk, and broke
The shatter'd chariot from the crooked yoke;
Wide o'er the field, refiftlefs as the wind,
For Troy they fly, and leave their lord behind.
Prone on his face he finks befide the wheel:
Atrides o'er him thakes his vengeful steel;
The fallen chief in fuppliant posture prefs'd
The victor's knees, and thus his prayer addrefs'd:
Oh, ipare my youth and for the life I owe
Large gifts of price my father shall bestow.
When fame fhall tell, that, not in battle flain,
Thy hollow ships his captive fon detain;
Kich heaps of brafs fhall in thy tent be told,
And feel well temper'd, and perfuafive gold.
He faid: compaffion touch'd the hero's heart;
He food, fufpended with the lifted dart :-
• Scamander and Simois.

1

As pity pleaded for his vanquish'd prize,
Stern Agamemnon swift to vengeance flies,
And furious thus: Oh impotent of mind!
Shall thefe, fhall thefe Atrides' mercy find!
Well haft thou known proud Troy's perfidious land,
And well her natives merit at thy hand!
Not one of all the race, nor fex, nor age,
Shall fave a Trojan from our boundless
Ilion fhall perith whole, and bury all;
Her babes, her infants at the breast, shall fall.
A dreadful leffon of exampled fate,

rage:

To warn the nations, and to curb the great!
The monarch fpoke; the words with warmth
addreft,

To rigid justice fteel'd his brother's breast.
Fierce from his knees the hapless chief he thruft;
The monarch's javelin ftretch'd him in the duft,
Then prefling with his foot his panting heart,
Forth from the flain he tugg'd the reeking dart.
Old Neftor faw, and rouz'd the warriors' rage!
Thus, heroes! thus the vigorous combat wage!
No fon of Mars defcend, for fervile gains,
To touch the booty, while a foe remains.
Behold yon glittering hoft, your future spoil!
Firit gain the conqueft, then reward the toil.

And now had Greece eternal fame acquir'd,
And frighten'd Troy within her walls retir'd;
Had not fage Helenus her state redreft,
Taught by the Gods that mov'd his facred breaft
Where Hector ftood, with great Æneas join'd,
The feer reveal'd the counfels of his mind:

Ye generous chiefs! on whom th' immortals lay The cares and glories of this doubtful day; On whom your aids, your country's hopes depend; Wife to confult, and active to defend ! Here, at your gates, your brave efforts unite, Turn back the routed, and forbid the flight; Ere yet their wives' foft arms the cowards gain, The fport and infult of the hostile train. When your commands have hearten'd every band, Ourselves, here fix'd, will make the dangerous ftand; Preft as we are, and fore of former fight, Thefe ftraits demand our laft remains of might. Mean while, thou Hector to the town retire, And teach our mother what the Gods require: Direct the queen to lead th' affembled train Of Troy's chief matrons to Minerva's fane; Unbar the facred gates, and feek the power With offer'd vows, in Ilion's topmost tower. The largest mantle her rich wardrobes hold, Most priz'd for art, and labour'd o'er with gold. Before the Goddess' honour'd knees he fpread; And twelve young heifers to her altar led: If fo the power, aton'd by fervent prayer, Our wives, our infants, and our city spare, And far avert Tydides wafteful ire,

That mows whole troops, and makes all Troy re-
Not thus Achilles taught our hosts to dread, [tire,
Sprung though he was from more than mortal bed;
Not thus refiftlefs rul'd the ttream of fight,
In rage unbounded, and unmatch'd in might.
Hector obedient heard; and with a bound,
Leap'd from his trembling chariot to the ground;
Through all his hoit, infpiring force, he flies,
And bids the thunder of the battle rife.
With rage recruited the bold Trojans glow,
And turn the tide of conflict on the foo

C

Fierce in the front he flakes two dazling fpears: All Greece recedes, and 'midst her triumphs fears; Some God, they thought, who rul'd the fate of

wars,

Shot down avenging from the vault of stars.

Then thus, aloud: Ye dauntlefs Dardans, hear! And you whom diftant nations fend to war! Be mindful of the strength your fathers bore; Be ftill yourselves, and Hector asks no more. One hour demands me in the Trojan wall, To bid our altars flame, and victims fall; Nor fhall, I trust, the matrons holy train And reverend elders, feek the Gods in vain.

This faid, with ample ftrides the hero past; The fhield's large orb behind his shoulder caft, His neck o'erfhading, to his ankle hung; And as he march'd, the brazen buckler rung. Now paus'd the battle (godlike Hector gone) When daring Glaucus and great Tydens' fon Between both armies met: the chiefs from far Obferv'd each other, and had mark'd for war. Near as they drew, Tydides thus began:

What art thou, bøldest of the race of man? Our eyes, till now, that aspect ne'er beheld. Where fame is reap'd amid th' embattled field; Yet far before the troops thou dar'st appear, And meet a lance the fierceft heroes fear. Unhappy they, and born of luckless fires, Who tempt our fury when Minerva fires! But if from heaven, celestial, thou defcend; Know, with Immortals we no more contend. Not long Lycurgus view'd the golden light, That daring man who mix'd with Gods in fight. Bacchus, and Bacchus' votaries, he drove, With brandish'd steel from Nyffa's facred grove : Their confecrated fpears lay fcatter'd round, With curling vines and twisted ivy bound; While Bacchus headlong fought the briny flood, And Thetis' arm receiv'd the trembling God. Nor fail'd the crime th' immortals' wrath to move, (Th' immortals bleft with endless cafe above) Depriv'd of fight by their avenging doom Cheerless he breath'd, and wander'd in the gloom: Then funk unpity'd to the dire abodes, A wretch accurft, and hated by the Gods! I brave not heaven: but if the fruits of earth Sustain thy life, and human be thy birth; Bold as thou art, too prodigal of breath, Approach, and enter the dark gates of death.

What, or from whence I am, or who my fire, [Reply'd the chief) can Tydeus' fon inquire? Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, not withering on the ground; Another race the following fpring fupplies; They fall fucceffive and fucceffive rife: So generations in their courfe decay; So flourish these, when those are paft away. But if thou ftill perfift to fearch my birth, Then hear a tale that fills the fpacious earth.

A city stands on Argos' utmost bound, (Argos the fair, for warlike steeds renown'd) Eolian Sifyphus, with wifdom blest, In ancient time the happy walls poffeft, Then call'd Ephyre: Glaucus was his fon; Great Glaucus, father of Bellerophon, Who o'er the fons of men in beauty fhin'd, Lov'd for that valour which preferves mankind.

Then mighty Prætus Argos' fceptres (way',
Whofe hard command Bellerophon obey'd.
With direful jealoufy the monarch rag'd,
And the brave prince in numerous toils engag'd.
For him Antea burn'd with lawless flame,
And strove to tempt him from the paths of fame :
In vain the tempted the relentless youth,
Endued with wifdom, facred fear, and truth.
Fir'd at his fcorn the queen to Prætus filed,
And begg'd revenge for her infulted bed:
Incens'd he heard, refolving on his fate;
But hofpitable laws reftrain'd his hate :
To Lycia the devoted youth he fent,
With tablets feal'd, that told his dire intent.
Now, bleft by every power who guards the good,
The chief arriv'd at Xanthus' filver flood:
There Lycia's monarch paid him honours due,
Nine days he feafted, and nine bulls he flew.
But when the tenth bright morning orient glow'd,
The faithful youth his monarch's mandate fhow'd:
The fatal tablets, till that inftant feal'd,
The deathful fecret to the king reveal'd,
First, dire Chimera's conqueft was enjoin'd,
A mingled monster, of no mortal kind;
Behind a dragon's fiery tail was fpread;
A goat's rough body bore a lion's head;
Her pitchy noftrils flaky flames expire;
Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.

This peft he flaughter'd (for he read the fkies,
And trufted Heaven's informing prodigies)
Then met in arms the Solymaan crew,
(Fierceft of men) and thofe the warrior flew.
Next the bold Amazon's whole force defy'd;
And conquer'd ftill, for heaven was on his fide.

Nor ended here his toils: his Lycian foes At his return, a treacherous ambush rose, With leyell'd fpears along the winding shore ; There fell they breathlefs, and return'd no morž.

At length the monarch with repentant grief
Confefs'd the Gods, and God descended chief;
His daughter gave, the stranger to detain,
With half the honours of his ample reign:
The Lycians grant a chosen space of ground,
With woods, with vineyards, and with harvest
crown'd,

There long the chief his happy lot poffefs'd.
With two brave fons and one fair daughter bless'd
(Fair even in heavenly eyes; her fruitful love
Crown'd with Sarpedon's birth th' embrace o
But when at last, distracted in his mind,
Forfook by heaven, forfaking human kind,
Wide o'er th' Alein field he chofe to ftray,
A long, forlorn, uncomfortable way!

[Jov

Woes heap'd on woes confum'd his wafted heart
His beauteous daughter fell by Phoebe's dart;
His eldest born by raging Mars was flain,
In combat on the Solyman plain.
Hippolochus furviv'd; from him I came,
The honour'd author of my birth and name;
By his decree I fought the Trojan town,
By his inftructions learn to win renown,
To ftand the first in worth as in command,
To add new honours to my native land,
Before my eyes my mighty fires to place,
And emulate the glories of our race.

He spoke, and tranfport fill'd Tydides' hearts In earth the generous warrior fix'd his dar

Then friendly, thus, the Lycian prince addrest:
Welcome, my brave hereditary guest!
Thus ever let us meet, with kind embrace,
Nor ftain the facred friendship of our race. [old;
Know, chief, our grandfires have been guests of
Deneus the strong, Bellerophon the bold:
Our ancient feat his honour'd prefence grac'd,
Where twenty days in genial rites he pass'd.
The parting heroes mutual prefents left;
A golden goblet was thy grandfire's gift;
Oeneus a belt of matchlefs work bestow'd,
That rich with Tyrian dye refulgent glow'd.
This from his pledge I learn'd, which fafely ftor'd
Among my treafures, ftili adorns my board:
(For Tydeus left me young, when Thebe's wall
Beheld the fons of Greece untimely fall.)
Mindful of this, in friendship let us join;
If heaven our fteps to foreign lands incline,

Far hence be Bacchus' gifts (the chief rejoin'd:)) Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind. Let chiefs abftain, and spare the facred juice To fprinkle to the Gods, its better use. By me that holy office were profan'd; Ill fits it me, with human gore distain'd, To the pure (kies thefe horrid hands to raise, Or offer Heaven's great Sire polluted praise. You with your matrons, go! a spotless train, And burn tich, odours in Minerva's fane. The largest mantle your full wardrobes hold, Moft priz'd for art, and labour'd o'er with gold, Before the Goddefs' honour'd knees be spread, And twelve young heifers to her altar led. So may the power, aton'd by fervent prayer, Our wives, our infants, and our city spare, And far avert Tydides' wafteful ire,

[tire.

Enough of Trojans to this lance fhall yield,
In the full harveft of yon ample field,

Enough of Greeks fhall dye thy fpear with gore;
But thou and Diomed be foes no more,
Now change we arms, and prove to either hoft,
We guard the friendship of the line we boast.
Thus having faid, the gallant chiefs alight,
Their hands they join, their mutual faith they
plight;

Brave Glaucus then each narrow thought refign'd,
(Jove warm'd his bosom and enlarg'd his mind :)
For Diomed's brafs arms, of mean device,
for which nine oxen paid, (a vulgar price);
He gave his own, of gold divinely wrought,
A hundred beeves the fhining purchase bought,
Mean time the guardian of the Trojan ftate,
Great Hector, entered at the Scæan gate.
Beneath the beech-tree's confecrated fhades,
The Trojan matrons and the Trojan maids
Around him flock'd, all prefs'd with pious care
For husbands, brothers, fons, engag'd in war.
He bids the train in long procefion go,
And feek the Gods t' avert th' impending woe.
And now to Priam's ftately courts he came,
Rais'd on arch'd columns of ftupendous frame;
O'er these a range of marble structure runs,
The rich pavilions of his fifty fons,

In fifty chambers lodg'd: and rooms of ftate
Oppos'd to thofe, where Priam's daughters fate :
Twelve domes for them and their lov'd spouses
Of equal beauty, and of polish'd stone. [fhone,
Hither great Hector pass'd, nor pass'd unseen
Of royal Hecuba, his mother queen
(With her Laodicè, whofe beauteous face
Surpafs'd the nymphs of Troy's illuftrious race):
Long in a strict embrace the held her fon,

And prefs'd his hand, and tender thus begun :
VO Hector! fay, what great occafion calls [walls?
My fon from fight, when Greece furrounds our
Com'st thou to fupplicate th' Almighty Power,
With lifted hands from Ilion's lofty tower?
Stay, till I bring the cup with Bacchus crown'd,"
In Jove's high name, to fprinkle on the ground,
And pay due vows to all the Gods around.
Then with a plenteous draught refresh thy foul,
And draw new fpirits from the generous bowl:
Spent as thou art with long laborious fight,
The brave defender of thy country's right.

Be this, O mother, your religious care;

I

go to rouze foft Paris to the war;

If yet, not loft to all the fenfe of fhame,
The recreant warrior hear the voice of fame.
Oh would kind earth the hateful wretch embrace,
That peft of Troy, that ruin of our race!
Deep to the dark abyfs might he defcend,
Troy yet fhould flourish, and my forrows end.

[came

This heard, the gave command; and fummon'& Each noble matron and illufirious dame. The Phrygian queen to her rich wardrobe went, Where treafur'd odours breath'd a coitly icent. There lay the veítures of no vulgar art, Sidonian maids embroider'd every part, Whom from foft Sidon youthful Paris bore, With Helen touching on the Tyrian fhore. Here as the queen revolv'd with careful eyes The various textures and the varions dyes, She chofe a veil that fhone fuperior far, And glow'd refulgent as the morning star. Herself with this the long proceffion leads; The train majeftically flow proceeds. Soon as to Ilion's topmolt tower they come, And awful reach the high Palladian dome, Antenor's confort, fair Thenano, waits As Pallas' priestess, and unbars the gates, With hands uplifted and imploring eyes, They fill the dome with fupplicating cries. The priestess then the fhining veil displays, Plac'd on Minerva's lees, and thus the prays;

Oh, awful Goddefs! ever dreadful maid, Troy's ftrong defence, unconquer'd Pallas, aid! Break thou Tydides fpear, and let him fall Prone on the duit before the Trojan wall, So twelve young heifers, guiltless of the yoke, Shall fill thy temple with a grateful smoke. But thou aton'd by penitence and prayer, Ourfelves, our infants, and our city spare! So pray'd the priestess in her holy fane; So vow'd the matrons, but they vow'd in vain. While these appear before the power with pray Hector to Paris' lofty dome repairs. [ers, Himfelf the manfion rais'd, from every part Aflembling architects of matchlefs art. Near Priam's court and Hector's palace ftands The pompous structure, and the town commands A fpear the hero bore of wondrous ftrength, Of full ten cubits was the lance's length,

The steely point with golden ringlets join'd,
Before him brandifh'd, at each motion fhin'd.
Thus entering, in the glittering rooms he found
His brother-chief, whofe ufelefs arms lay round,
His eyes delighting with the fplendid show,
Brightening the field, and polishing the bow.
Befide him Helen with her virgins ftands,
Guides their rich labours, and inftructs their hands.
Him thus unactive, with an ardent look
The prince beheld, and high resenting spoke.
Thy hate to Troy, is this the time to show?
(Oh wretch ill-fated, and thy country's foe!)
Paris and Greece against us, both confpire;
Thy close refentment, and their vengeful ire,
For the great Ilion's guardian heroes fall,
Till heaps of dead alone defend her wall;
For thee the foldier bleeds, the matron mourns,
And wafteful war in all its fury burns.
Ungrateful man! deferves not this thy care,
Our troops to hearten, and our toils to fhare?
Rife, or behoid the conquering flames afcend,
And all the Phrygian glories at an end.

Brother, 'tis juft (reply'd the beauteous youth)
Thy free remonitrance proves thy worth and truth:
Yet charge my abfence lefs, oh generous chief!
On hate to Troy, than confcious fhame and grief:
Here, hid from human eyes, thy brother fate,
And mourn'd in fecret, his and Ilion's fate.
'Tis now enough: now glory fpreads her charms,
And beauteous Helen calls her chief to arms.
Conqueft to-day my happier fword may blefs,
'Tis man's to fight, but Heaven's to give fuccefs.
But while I arm, contain thy ardent mind;
Or go, and Paris fhall not lag behind.

He faid, nor anfwer'd Priam's warlike fon; When Helen thus with lowly grace begun:

Oh generous brother! if the guilty dame, That caus'd thefe woes, deferves a fifter's name! Would Heaven, ere all these dreadful deeds were done,

[bear

The day that show'd me to the golden fun,
Had feen my death! Why did not whirlwinds
The fatal infant to the fowls of air?
Why funk I not beneath the whelming tide,
And midft the roarings of the waters died?
Heaven fill'd up all my ills, and I accurst
Bore all, and Paris of thofe ills the worst.
Helen at laft a braver spouse might claim,
Warm'd with fome virtue, fome regard of fame?
Now, tir'd with toils, thy fainting limbs recline,
With toils, fuftain'd for Paris' fake and mine:
The Gods have link'd our miferable doom,
Cur prefent woe, and infamy to come:
Wide fhall it fpread, and laft through ages long.
Example fad and theme of future fong.

The chief reply'd: This time forbids to reft:
The Trojan bands, by hoftile fury preft,
Demand their Hector, and his arm require;
The combat urges, and my foul's on fire.
Urge thou thy knight to march where glory calls,
And timely join me, ere I leave the walls.
Ere yet I mingle in the direful fray,
My wife, my infant, claim a moment's ftay;
This day (perhaps the last that fees me here)
I eminds a parting word, a tender tear:
This day, fome God who hates our Trojan land
May vanquish Hector by a Grecian hand.

He said, and pass'd with fad prefaging heart To feek his fpoufe, his foul's far dearer part; At home he fought her, but he fought in vain : She, with one maid of all her menial train, Had thence retir'd; and with her fecond joy, The young Aftyanax, the hope of Troy,

enfive the flood on Ilion's towery height, Beheld the war, and ficken'd at the fight; There her fad eyes in vain her lord explore, Or weep the wounds her bleeding country bore. But he who found not whom his foui defir'd, Whofe virtue charm'd him as her beauty fir'd, Stood in the gates, and afk'd what way the bent Her parting step? If to the fane fhe went, Where late the mourning matrons made refort; Or fought her fifters in the Trojan court? Not to the court, (reply'd the attendant train) Nor mix'd with matrons to Minerva's fane: To Ilion's steepy tower fhe bent her way, To mark the fortunes of the doubtful day. Troy fled, the heard, before the Grecian fword; She heard, and trembled for her abfent lord: Distracted with furprife, the feem'd to fly, Fear on her cheek, and forrow in her eye. The nurse attended with her infant boy, The young Aftyanax, the hope of Troy.

Hector, this heard, return'd without delay;
Swift through the town he trod his former way,
Through streets of palaces, and walks of state;
And met the mourner at the Scæan gate.
With hafte to meet him fprung the joyful fair,
His blameless wife, Aëtion's wealthy heir;
(Cilician Thebe great Aëtion fway'd,
And Hippoplacus' wide-extended thade)
The nurse stood near, in whofe embraces preft
His only hope hung fmiling at her breaft,
Whom each soft charm and early grace adorn,
Fair as the new-born ftar that gilds the morn.
To this lov'd infant Hector gave the name
Scamandrius, from Scamander's honour'd stream:
Aftyanax the Trojans cail'd the boy,
From his great father, the defence of Troy.
Silent the warrior fmil'd, and pleas'd refign'd
To tender paffions all his mighty mind:
His beauteous princess caft a mournful look,
Hung on his hand, and then dejected fpoke;
Her bofom labour'd with a boding figh,
And the big tear ftood trembling in her eye.
Too daring prince! ah, whither doit thou
run?

Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and fon!
And think'it thou not how wretched we shall be,
A widow I, and helpless orphan he !*
For fure fuch courage length of life denies;
And thou must fall thy virtue's facrifice.
Greece in her fingle heroes ftrove in vain ;
Now hosts oppofe thee, and thou must be flain!
Oh grant me, Gods! ere Hector meets his doom,
All I can afk of Heaven, an early tomb!
So fhall my days in one fad tenor run,
And end with forrows as they first begun.
No parent now remains my griefs to ibare,
No father's aid, no mother's tender care.
The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire!
Laid Thebe waste, and flew my warlike fire!
His fate compaffion in the victor bred;
Stern as he was, he yet rever'd the dead;

His radiant arms preferv'd from hoftile spoil,
And laid him decent on the funeral pile;
Then rais'd a mountain where his bones were
burn'd:

The mountain nymphs the rural tomb adorn'd,
Jove's Sylvan daughters bade their elms bestow
A barren shade, and in his honour grow.

By the fame arm my seven brave brothers fell; In one fad day beheld the gates of hell: While the fat herds and fnowy flocks they fed; Amid their fields the hapleis heroes bled! My mother liv'd to bear the victor's bands, The queen of Hyppoplacia's Sylvan lands: Redeem'd too late, the fcarce beheld again Her pleafing empire and her native plain, When, ah! oppreft by life-confuming woe, She fell a victim to Diana's bow.

Yet, while my Hector ftill furvives, I fee My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee: Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all Once more will perish, if my Hector fall, Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger fhare: Oh prove a husband's and a father's care! That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy, Where yon wild fig-trees join the wall of Troy : Thou from this tower defend th' important poft; There Agamemnon points his dreadful hoft, That país Tydides, Ajax, ftrive to gain, And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train, Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given, Or led by hopes, or dictated from Heaven. Let others in the field their arms employ, But ftay my Hector here, and guard his Troy.

The chief reply'd: That poft fhall be my care,
Not that alone, but all the works of war.
How would the fons of Troy, in arms renow'd,
And Troy's proud dames, whofe garments fweep
the ground,

Attaint the luftre of my former name,
Should Hector bafely quit the field of fame ?
My early youth was bred to martial pains,
My foul impels me to th' embattled plains:
Let me be foremost to defend the throne,
And guard my father's glories, and my own.

Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates: (How my heart trembles while my tongue relates!

The day when thou, imperial Troy! must bend,
And fee thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
And yet no dire prefage fo wounds my mind,
My mother's death, the ruin of my kind,
Not Priam's hoary hairs defil'd with gore,
Not all my brothers gasping on the shore;
As thine, Andromache! thy griefs I dread;
I fee thee trembling, weeping, captive led !
In Argive looms our battles to design,
And woes, of which fo large a part was thine!
To bear the victor's hard commands, or bring
The weight of waters from Hyperia's fpring.
There, while you groan beneath the load of life,
They cry, Behold the mighty Hector's wife!
Some haughty Greek, who lives thy tears to fee,
Embitters all thy woes, by naming me.
The thoughts of glory paft, and prefent fhame,
A thousand griefs fhall waken at the name!
May I lie cold before that dreadful day,
Prefs'd with a load of monumental clay!

Thy Hector, wrapt in everlasting sleep,
Shall neither hear thee figh nor fee thee weep.

Thus having fpoke, th' illuftrious chief of Troy Stretch'd his fond arms to clafp the lovely boy. The babe clung crying to his nurfe's breast, Scar'd at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest. With fecret pleafure each fond parent fmil'd, And Hector hafted to relieve his child, The glittering terrors from his brows unbound, And plac'd the beaming helmet on the ground. Then kifs'd the child, and, lifting high in air, Thus to the Gods preferr'd a father's prayer:

O thou! whofe glory fills the æthereal throne, And all ye deathless powers! protect my fon! Graut him, like me, to purchase just renown, To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown, Against his country's foes the war to wage, And rife the Hector of the future age! So when, triumphant from fuccessful toils Of heroes flain, he bears the reeking spoils, Whole hofts may hail him with deferv'd acclaim, And fay, this chief transcends his father's fame: While, pleas'd, amidst the general thouts of Troy, His mother's confcious heart o'erflows with joy.

He spoke, and, fondly gazing on her charms, Reftor'd the pleafing burthen to her arms; Soft on her fragrant breaft the babe fhe laid, Huil'd to repofe, and with a fimile furvey'd. The troubled pleasure foon chaftis'd by fear, She mingled with a smile a tender tear. The foften'd chief with kind compaffion view'd, And dry'd the falling drops, and thus pursued :, Andromache my foul's far better part, Why with untimely forrows heaves thy heart? No hoftile hand can antedate my doom, Till fate condemns me to the filent tomb. Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth; And fuch the hard condition of our birth, No force can then refift, no flight can fave; All fink alike, the fearful and the brave. No more- but haften to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle, and direct the loom; Me glory fummons to the martial scene, The field of combat is the fphere for men. Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger, as the first in fame.

V

Thus having faid, the glorious chief resumes His towery helmet, black with fhading plumes. His prince's part with a prophetic figh, Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye, That ftream'd at every look: then, moving flow Sought her own palace, and indulg'd her woe. There, while her tears deplor'd the godlike man, Through all her train the foit infection ran, The pious maids their mingled forrows fhed, And mourn the living Hector, as the dead.

But now, no longer deaf to honour's call, Forth iffues Paris from the palace wall. In brazen arms that caft a gleamy ray, Swift through the town the warrior bends his way. The wanton courfer thus, with reins unbound, Breaks from his ftall and beats the trembling ground;

Pamper'd and proud, he feeks the wonted tides, And laves, in height of blood, his shining fides; is head now freed, he tofles to the skies; is mane difhevell'd o'er his boulders flies;