Wrapt round in mifts he lies, and loft to thought;
His friends receive the bowl, too dearly bought.
The third bold game Achilles next demands,
And calls the wrestlers to the level fands:
A maffy tripod for the victor lies,
Of twice fix oxen its reputed price;
And next, the lofer's fpirits to restore,
A female captive, valued but at four.
Scarce did the chief the vigorous ftrife propofe,820
When tower-like Ajax and Ulyffes rofe.
Amid the ring each nervous rival stands,
Embracing rigid with implicit hands:
Clofe lock'd above, their heads and arms are mixt;
With matchless strength; that time Ulyffes found The strength t' evade, and where the nerves combine His ankle ftruck: the giant fell fupine; 845 Ulyffes, following, on his bofom lies;
Shouts of applaufe run rattling through the skies. Ajax to lift, Ulyffes next effays,
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He barely ftirr'd him, but he could not raife:
His knee lock'd faft, the foe's attempt deny'd; 850
And grappling clofe, they tumbled fide by fide.
Defil'd with honourable duft, they roll,
Still breathing ftrife, and unfubdued of foul:
Again they rage, again to combat rife;
When great Achilles thus divides the prize: 855
Your noble vigour, oh my friends, reftrain:
Nor weary out your generous ftrength in vain.
Ye both have won; let others who excel,
Now prove that prowefs you have prov'd so well.
The hero's words the willing chiefs obey,8607
From their tir'd bodies wipe the duft away,
And now fucceed the gifts ordain'd to grace
The youths contending in the rapid race.
A filver urn that full fix measures held,
By none in weight or workmanship excell'd;
Sidonian artifts taught the frame to fhine,
Elaborate, with artifice divine;
Whence Tyfian failors did the prize transport,
And gave to Thoas at the Lemnian port;
From him defcended, good Eunæus heir'd
The glorious gift; and, for Lycaon fpar'd.
To brave Patroclus gave the rich reward.
Now, the fame hero's funeral rites to grace,
It flands the prize of swiftness in the race. 875
A well-fed ox was for the fecond plac'd; And half a talent must content the last. Achilles rifing then bespoke the trainWho hope the palm of swiftness to obtain, Stand forth, and bear thefe prizes from the plain. 88a
The hero faid, and, ftarting from his place, Oïlean Ajax rifes to the race;
Ulyffes next; and he whose speed surpaft
His youthful equals, Neftor's fon, the last.
Rang'd in a line the ready racers ftand;
Pelides points the barrier with his hand;
All start at once; Oileus led the race;
The next, Ulyffes, measuring pace with pace;
Behind him, diligently clofe, he sped,
As clofely following as the running thread
The fpindle follows, and difplays the charms
Of the fair fpinfter's breast, and moving arms:
Graceful in motion thus his foe he plies,
And treads each footstep ere the dust can rise:
His glowing breath upon his fhoulders plays; 895
Th' admiring Greeks loud acclamations raise:
To him they give their wishes, hearts, and eyes,
And fend their fouls before him as he flies.
Now three times turn'd in profpect of the goal,
The panting chief to Pallas lifts his foul:
Affift, O Goddefs! (thus in thought he pray'd)
And prefent at his thought defcends the Maid.
Buoy'd by her heavenly force, he seems to swim,
And feels a pinion lifting every limb.
All fierce, and ready now the prize to gain, 905
Unhappy Ajax ftumbles on the plain
(O'erturn'd by Pallas); where the flippery shore
Was clogg'd with flimy dung, and mingled gore
(The felf-fame place, befide Patroclus' pyre, [910
Where late the flaughter'd victims fed the fire):
Befmear'd with filth, and blotted o'er with clay,
Obfcene to fight, the rueful racer lay;
The well-fed bull (the fecond prize) he shar'd,
And left the urn Ulyffes' rich reward.
Then, grafping by the horn the mighty beast,915
The baffled hero thus the Greeks addreft:
Accurfed fate! the conqueft I forego;
A mortal eye, a Goddess was my foc;
She urg'd her favourite on the rapid way,
And Pallas, not Ulyffes, won the day.
Thus fourly wail'd he, fputtering dirt and gore;
A burft of laughter echo'd through the fhore.
Antilochus, more humourous than the rest,
Takes the last prize, and takes it with a jeft:
Why with our wifer elders fhould we ftrive? 925
The Gods ftill love them, and they always
thrive.
Ye fee, to Ajax I muft yield the prize:
He to Ulyffes, ftill more ag'd and wife
(A green old-age, unconscious of decays,
That prove the hero born in better days!)
Behold his vigour in this active race!
Achilles only boats a fwifter pace;
For who can match Achilles! He who can,
Muft yet be more than hero, more than man.
Th' effect fucceeds the fpeech: Pelides cries,935
Thy artful praife deferves a better prize.
Nor Greece in vain fhall hear thy friend extoll'd:
Receive a talent of the pureft old.
The youth departs content. The hot admire
The fon of Neftor, worthy of his fine.
Next thefe; a buckler, fpear, and helm, he
brings,
Caft on the plain, the brazen burthen rings:
Arms, which of late divine Sarpedon wore,
nd great Patroclus in fhort triumph bore.
Stand forth the bravest of our hoft! (he cries)945
Whoever dares deferve fo rich a prize,
Now grace the lift before our army's fight,
And, fheath'd in fteel, provoke his foe to fight.
Who first the jointed armour shall explore,
And ftain his rival's mail with iffuing gore;
The fword Afteropeus poffeft of old
(A Thracian blade, diftin&t with ftuds of gold)
Shall pay the ftroke, and grace the ftriker's fide:
Thefe arms in common let the chiefs divide :
For each brave champion, when the combat ends,
A fumptuous banquet at our tent attends.
Thefe two-edg'd axes, terrible in war:
The fingle, he, whofe fhaft divides the cord.
He faid experienc'd Merion took the word;
And fkilful Teucer: in the helm they threw
Their lots infcrib'd, and forth the latter flew [ro20
Swift from the ftring the founding arrow flies,
But flies unbleft! No grateful sacrifice,
No firstling lambs, unheedful! didft thou vow
To Phoebus, patron of the fhaft and bow.
For this, thy well-aim'd arrow, turn'd afide,[1025
re-Err'd from the dove, yet cut the cord that ty'd;
A-down the main-maft fell the parting ftring,
And the free bird to heaven difplays her wing:
Seas, fhores, and fkies, with loud applaufe refound,
And Merion eager meditates the wound:
Fierce at the word, up-rofe great Tydeus' fon,
And the huge bulk of Ajax Telamon.
Clad in refulgent fteel, on either hand,
The dreadful chiefs amid the circle ftand:
Lowering they meet, tremendous to the fight,
Each Argive bofom beats with fierce delight.
Oppos'd in arms not long they idly stood,
But thrice they clos'd, and thrice the charge
A furious pafs the fpear of Ajax made [new'd.
Through the broad shield, but at the corfelet
ftay'd:
966
He takes the bow, directs the fhaft above, 1030
And, following with his eye the foaring dove,
Implores the God to fpeed it through the fkies,
With vows of tirftling lambs, and grateful facrifice.
The dove, in airy circles as the wheels,
Amid the clouds, the piercing arrow feels:
Quite through and through the point its paffage
found,
And at his feet fell bloody to the ground.
The wounded bird, ere yet the breath'd her last,
With flagging wings alighted on the mast ;
A moment hung, and spread her pinions there,1040
980 Then fudden dropt, and left her life in air.
Not thus the foe: his javelin aim'd above
The buckler's margin, at the neck he drove,
But Greece now trembling for her hero's life,
Bade share the honours, and furceafe the ftrife. 970
Yet ftill the victor's due Tydides gains,
With him the fword and ftudded belt remains.
Then hurl'd the hero thundering on the ground
A mafs of iron (an enormous round) [975
Whole weight and fize the circling Greeks admire,
Rude from the furnace, and but shap'd by fire.
This mighty quoit Aëtion wont to rear,
And from his whirling arm difmiss in air :
The giant by Achilles flain, he stow'd
Among his fpoils this memorable load.
For this, he bids thofe nervous artists vie,
That teach the difk to found along the sky.
Let him whofe might can hurl this bowl, arife;
Who farthest hurls it, takes it as his prize:
If he be one, enrich'd with large domain
Of downs for flocks, and arable for grain,
Small ftock of iron needs that man provide;
His hinds and fwains whole years fhall be fupply'd
From hence: nor afk the neighbouring city's aid,
For ploughfhares, wheels, and all the rural trade.
Stern Polypotes ftept before the throng, 991
And great Leonteus, more than mortal strong;
Whofe force with rival forces to oppose,
Up rofe great Ajax; up Epëus rose.
Each stood in order: first Epeus threw ;
High o'er the wondering crowds the whirling
Leontes next a little space furpast, [circle flew,
And third, the ftrength of godlike Ajax caft.
O'er both their marks it flew; till fiercely flung
From Polypate's arm, the difcus's fung:
Far as a fwain his whirling heephook throws,
That diftant falls among the grazing cows,
From the pleas'd crowd new peals of thunder rife,
And to the ships brave Merion bears the prize.
To clofe the funeral games Achilles last
A maffy fpear amid the circle plac'd,
An ample charger of unfullied frame,
With flowers high-wrought, not blacken'd yet by
For these he bids the heroes prove their art,
Whose dextrous skill directs the flying dart.
Here too Great Merion hopes the noble prize; 1050
Nor here difdain'd the king of men to rife.
With joy Pelides faw the honour paid,
Rofe to the monarch, and refpectful faid:
The Redemption of the body of Hector.
The Gods deliberate about the redemption of Hector's body. Jupiter fends Thetis to Achilles, to difpofe him for the reftoring it; and Iris to Priam, to encourage him to go in perfon, and treat for it. The old king, notwithflanding the remonßrances of bis queen, makes ready for the journey, to which be is encouraged by an omen from Jupiter. Hefets forth in bis chariot, with a waggon loaded with prefents, under the charge of Ideus, the herald. Mercury defcends in the shape of a young man, and conducts bim to the pavilion of Achilles. Their converfation on the way. Priam finds Achilles at bis table, cafts himself at bis feet, and begs for the body of bis fon; Achilles, moved with compaffion, grants bis request, detains bim one night in his tent, and the next morning fends bim home with the body. The Trojans run out to meet him. The lumentations of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen; with the folemnities of the funeral.
The time of twelve days is employed in this book, while the body of Hector lies in the tent of Achilles: and as many more are spent in the truce allowed for his interment. The feene is partly in Achilles' camp, and partly in Troy.
from the finish'd games the Grecian band | And, can ye ftill his cold remains purfue?
their black clear grade his body to
Deny to confort, mother, fon, and fire
The last fad honours of a funeral fire?
Is then the dire Achilles all your care?
That iron heart, inflexibly fevere:
A lion, not a man,, who flaughter's wide
In ftrength of rage, and impotence of pride;
Who haftes to murder with a favage joy,
Invades around, and breathes but to destroy.
10 Shame is not of his foul; nor understood,
The greatest evil and the greatest good.
Still for one lofs he rages unrefign'd.
Repugnant to the lot of all mankind;
To lose a friend, a brother, or a fon,
Heaven dooms each mortal, and its will is done :
A while they forrow, then difmifs their care;
Fate gives the wound, and man is born to bear.
But this, infatiate, the commiffion given
By Fate exceeds, and tempts the wrath of Heaven:
Lo! how his rage difhoneft drags along
All firetch'd at ease the genial banquet share,
And pleasing flumbers quiet all their care.
Not fo Achilles: he to grief fefign'd,
His friend's dear image prefent to his mind,
Takes his fad couch, more unobferv'd to weep;
Nor taftes the gifts of all-compofing fleep.
Reftlefs he roll'd around his weary bed,
And all his foul on his Patroclus fed:
The form fo pleafing, and the heart so kind,
That youthful vigour, and that manly mind,
What toils they shar'd, what martial works they
wrought,
[fought;
What feas they meafur'd, and what fields they
All paft before him in remembrance dear, 15
Thought follows thought, and tear fucceeds to tear.
And now fupine, now prone, the hero lay,
Now fhifts his fide, impatient for the day:
Then farting up, difconfolate he goes
Wide on the lonely beach to vent his woes.
There, as the folitary mourner raves,
The ruddy morning rifes o'er the waves:
Soon as it rofe, his furious fteeds he join'd:
The chariot flies, and Hector trails behind.
And thrice, Patroclus! round thy monument
Was Hector dragg'd, then hurry'd to the tent.
There fleep at laft o'ercomes the hero's eyes;
While foul in duft th' unhonear'd carcafe lies,
But not deferted by the pitying Skies.
For Phœbus watch'd it with fuperior care,
Preferv'd from gaping wounds, and tainting air;
And ignominious as it fwept the field,
Spread o'er the facred corpse his golden shield.
All Heaven was mov'd, and Hermes will'd to go
By ftealth to fnatch him from th' infulting foe: 35
But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies,
And th' unrelenting Emprefs of the fkies:
E'er fince that day implacable to Troy,
What time young Paris, fimple fhepherd boy,
Won by deftructive luft (reward obfcene)
Their charms rejected for the Cyprian Queen.
But when the tenth celeftial morning broke;
To Heaven affembled, thus Apollo (poke:
Unpitying Powers! how oft each holy fane
Has Hector ting'd with blood of victims Qain 145
VEL. VI.
20 Hector's dead earth, infenfible of wrong!
Brave though he be, yet, by no reason aw'd,
He violates the laws of man and God.
If equal honours by the partial Skies
Are doom'd both heroes, (Juno thus replies)
If Thetis fon muft no diftinction know,
Then hear, ye Gods! the Patron of the Bow.
But Hector only boafts a mortal claim,
His birth deriving from a mortal dame:
Achilles of your own ætherial race
Springs from a Goddefs by a man's embrace
(A goddess by ourself to Peleus given,
A man divine, and chofen friend of Heaven).
To grace thofe nuptials from the bright abode 80
Yourfelves were prefent; where this minstrel-
God
(Well pleas'd to share the feast) amid the quire
Stood proud to hymn, and tune his youthful lyre.
Then thus the Thunderer checks th' imperial
Nor ever from our fmoking altar ceas'd
The pure libation, and the holy feast.
Howe'er by stealth to fnatch the corpfe away,
We will not: Thetis guards it night and day.
But hafte, and fummon to our courts above
The azure Queen: let her perfuafion move
Her furious fon from Priam to receive
'The proffer'd ranfom, and the corpfe to leave.
He added not: and Iris from the skies,
Swift as a whirlwind on the message flies.
Meteorous the face of Ocean sweeps,
Refulgent gliding o'er the fable deeps,
Between where Samos wide his forest spreads,
And rocky Imbrus lifts its pointed heads.
Down plung'd the Maid (the parted waves re-
found);
105
His friends prepare the victim, and difpofe
Repaft unheeded, while he vents his woes;
The Goddess feats her by her penfive fon,
She preft his hand, and tender thus begun :
How long, unhappy! fhall thy forrows flow; And thy heart wafle with life-confuming wos: Mindlefs of food, or love, whofe pleafing reign 165 Soothes weary life, and foftens human pain? O fnatch the moments yet within thy power; 100 Not long to live, indulge the amorous hour! Lo! Jove himself (for Jove's command I bear) Forbids to tempt the wrath of Heaven too far. 170 No longer then (his fury if thou dread) Detain the relicks of great Hector dead; Nor vent on fenfeless earth thy vengeance vain But yield to ransom, and restore the flain.
She plung'd, and inftant fhot the dark profound,
As, bearing death in the fallacious bait,
From the bent angle finks the leaden weight;
So pafs'd the Goddefs through the closing wave,
Where Thetis forrow'd in her facred cave:.
There, plac'd amidst her melancholy train
(The blue-hair'd fifters of the facred main)
Penfive the fat, revolving fates to come,
And wept her godlike fon's approaching doom.
Then thus the Goddefs of the painted bow, 115
Arife! O Thetis, from thy feats below:
'Tis Jove that calls. And why (the dame replies)
Calls Jove his Thetis to the hated skies,
Sad object as I am for heavenly fight?
Ah, may my forrows ever fhun the light!
Howe'er, be Heaven's almighty Sire obey'd
She ipake, and veil'd her head in fable fhade,
Which flowing long, her graceful person clad;
And forth the pac'd, majeftically fad.
Then through the world of waters they repair 125
(The way fair Iris led) to upper air.
The deeps dividing, o'er the coaft they rife,
And touch with momentary flight the skies,
There in the lightning's blaze the Sire they found,
And all the Gods in fhining fynod round. 130
Thetis approach'd with anguish in her face
(Minerva, rifing, gave the Mourner place;)
Ev'n Juno fought her forrows to confole,
And offer'd from her hand the nectar-bowl;
She tafted, and refign'd it: then began
The facred Sire of Gods and mortal man:
Thou com'ft, fair Thetis, but with grief o'ercaft;
Maternal forrows; long, ah long to laft!
Suffice, we know and we partake thy cares :
But yield to Fate, and hear what Jove declares. 140
Nine days are paft, fince all the court above
In Hector's caufe have mov'd the ear of Jove;
'Twas voted, Hermes from his godlike foe
By ftealth fhould bear him, but we will'd not fo:
We will, thy fon himfelf the corpfe reftore,
And to his conqueft add this glory more.
Then hie thee to him, and our mandate bear;
Tell him he tempts the wrath of Heaven too far:
Nor let him more (our anger if he dread)
Vent his mad vengeance on the facred dead:
But yield to ranfom and the father's prayer.
The mournful father, Iris shall prepare,
With gifts to fue; and offer to his hands
Whate'er his honour asks, or heart demands.
His word the filver-footed Queen attends,
And from Olympus' fnowy tops defcends:
Arriv'd, be heard the voice of loud lament,
And echoing groans that shook the lofty tent,
To whom Achilles : Be the ransom given, 175 And we fubmit, fince fuch the will of Heaven. While thus they commun'd, from th' Olympian bowers
Jove orders Iris to the Trojan towers:
Hafte, winged Goddess, to the facred town,
And urge her monarch to redeem his fon :
Alone, the Ilian ramparts let him leave,
And bear what ftern Achilles may receive,
Alone, for fo we will: no Trojan near;
Except, to place the dead with decent care,
Some aged herald, who, with gentle hand, 185
May the flow mules and funeral car command.
Nor let him death, nor let him danger dread,
Safe through the foe by our protection led:
Him Hermes to Achilles fhall convey,
Guard of his life, and partner of his way.
Fierce as he is, Achilles' felf fhall spare
His age, nor touch one venerable hair,
Some thought there must be in a soul so brave,
Some fenfe of duty, fome delire to fave.
Then down her bow the winged Iris drives, 195 And swift at Priam's mournful court arrives; Where the fad fons befide their father's throne Sate bath'd in tears, and answer'd groan with groan, And all amidst them lay the hoary fire,
(Sad scene of woe !) his face, his wrapt attire, 200
Conceal'd from fight; with frantic hands he spread
A fhower of afhes o'er his neck and head.
From room to room his penfive daughters roam;
Whofe fhrieks and clamours fill the vaulted dome;
Mindful of thofe, who, late their pride and joy, 205
Lie pale and breathless round the fields of Troy!
Before the king Jove's meffenger appears,
And thus, in whispers, greets his trembling ears:
Fear not, oh father, no ill news I bear; [210
From Jove I come, Jove makes thee ftill his care;
For Hector's fake thefe wails he bids thee leave,
And bear what ftern Achilles may receive:
Alone, for fo he wills: no Trojan near,
Except, to place the dead with decent care,
Some aged herald, who, with gentle hand, 215
May the flow mules and funeral car command.
Nor fhalt thou, death, nor fhalt thou danger, dread,
Safe through the foe by his protection led:
Thee Hermes to Pelides fall convey,
Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way. 220
Fierce as he is, Achilles' felf fhall spare
Thy age, nor touch one venerable hair;
Some thought there must be, in a foul so brave,
Some fenfe of duty, fome defire to fave.
She fpoke, and vanifa'd. Priamu bids prepare 226 His gentle mules, and harnefs to the car ;
In vain each flave with duteous care attends,
Each office hurts him, and each face offends.
What make ye here? officious crowds! (ne cries)
Hence! nor obtrude your anguifh on my eyes. 296
Have ye no griefs at home to fix you there;
Am I the only obje&t of despair?
Am I become my people's common fhow,
Set up by Jove your fpectacle of woe?
No, you must feel him too; yourselves must fall:
The fame flern God to ruin gives you all :
Nor is great Hedor loft by me alone;
Your fole defence, your guardian Power, is gone;
I fee your blood the fields of Phrygia drown, 305
I fee the ruins of your fmoking town!
O fend me, Gods! ere that fad day fhall come,
A willing ghost to Pluto's dreary dome!
He faid, and feebly drives his friends away:
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There, for the gifts, a polish'd casket lay;
His pious fons the king's command obey.
Then pafs'd the monarch to his bridal-room,
Where cedar-beams the lofty roofs perfume,
And where the treasures of his empire lay;
Then call'd his queen, and thus began to fay:
Unhappy confort of a king diftreft!
Partake the troubles of thy husband's breast :
1 faw defcend the meffenger of Jove,
Who bids me try Achilles' mind to move;
Forfake these ramparts, and with gifts obtain
The corpfe of Hector, at yon navy flain,
Tell me thy thought: my heart impels to go [240
Through hoftile camps, and bears me to the foe.
The hoary monarch thus. Her piercing cries
Sad Hecuba renews, and then replies:
Ah whither wanders thy distemper'd mind?
And where the prudence now, that aw'd man-The forrowing friends his frantic rage obey. 310
kind:
[known; Next on his fons his erring fury falls,
Polites, Paris, Agathon, he calls;
His threats Deiphobus and Dius hear,
Hippothoüs, Pammon, Helenus the feer,
And generous Antiphon: for yet thefe nine 315
| Surviv'd, fad relicks of his numerous line;
Inglorious fens, of an unhappy fire!
Why did not all in Hector's cause expire?
Wretch that I am! my braveft offspring flain,
You, the difgrace of Priam's house remain! 320
Neftor the brave, renown'd in ranks of war,
With Troilus, dreadful on his rufhing car,
And laft great Hector, more than man divine,
For fure he feen'd not of terrestrial line!
Through Phrygia once, and foreign regions
Now all confus'd, diftracted, overthrown? 246
Singly to pass through hots of foes! to face
(Oh heart of steel! the murderer of thy race!
To view that deathful eye, and wander o'er
Thofe hands, yet red with Hector's noble gore!
Alas! my Lord! he knows not how to fpare, 251
And what his mercy, thy flain fons declare ;
So brave! fo many fallen! To can his rage,
Vain were thy dignity, and vain thy age.
No-pent in this sad palace, let us give
To grief, the wretched days we have to live.
Still, ftill for Hector let our forrows flow,
Born to his own and to his parents woe!
Doom'd, from the hour his lucklefs life begun,
To dogs, to vultures, and to Peleus' fon!
Oh! in his dearest blood might I allay
My rage, and these barbarities repay!
For ah! could Hector merit thus, whofe breath
Expir'd not meanly in unactive death?
He pour'd his latest blood in manly fight,
And fell a hero in his country's right.
Seek not to stay me, nor my foul affright With words of omen, like a bird of night (Reply'd, unmov'd, the venerable man). 'Tis Heaven commands me, and you urge in vain. Had any mortal voice th' injun&ion laid, Nor augur, prieft, or feer, had been obey'd, A prefent Goddess brought the high command, I faw, I heard her, and the word shall stand. I go, ye Gods obedient to your call: If in yon camp your powers have doom'd fall,
Content-By the fame hand let me expire!
Add to the flaughter'd for the wretched fire!
One cold embrace at last may be allow'd,
And my last tears flow mingled with his blood!
From forth his open'd ftores, this faid, he drew
Twelve coftly carpets of refulgent hue,
As many wefts, as many mantles told,
And twelve fair veils and garments stiff with gold.
Two tripods next, and twice two chargers, shine,
With ten pure talents from the richest mine: 286
And laft a large well-labour'd bowl had place,
(The pledge of treaties once with friendly Thrace).
Seem'd all too mean the ftores he could employ,
For one last look to buy him back to Troy: 290
Lo! the fad father, frantic with his pain,
Around him furious drives his menial train :
All thofe relentlefs Mars untimely flew,
And left me thefe, a foft and fervile crew,
Whofe days the feast and wanton dance employ,
Gluttons and flatterers, the contempt of Troy!"
Why teach ye not my rapid wheels to run,
Aud fpeed my journey to redeem my son?
The fons their father's wretched age revere,
Forgive his anger, and produce the car,
High on the feat the cabinet they bind :
The new-made car with folid beauty shin'd;
Box was the yoke, embofs'd with coftly pains, 335
And hung with ringlets to receive the reins;
Nine cubits long, the traces fwept the ground;
Thefe to the chariot's polifh'd pole they bound,
Then fixt a ring the running reins to guide,
And close beneath the gather'd ends were ty'd.340
Next with the gifts (the price of Hector flain)
The fad attendants load the groaning wain :
Laft, to the yoke the well-match'd mules they
bring
(The gift of Myfia to the Trojan king).
But the fair horfes, long his darling care,
Himself receiv'd, and harnefe'd to his car:
Griev'd as he was, he not this task deny'd:
The hoary herald help'd him, at his fide.
While careful thefe the gentle courfers join'd,
Sad Hecuba approach'd with anxious mind; 350
A golden bowl that foam'd with fragrant wine,
(Libation destin'd to the Power divine)
Held in her right, before the fteeds the stands,
And thus configns it to the monarch's hands:
Take this, and pour to Jove; that, fafe from
harms,
His grace restore thee to our roof and arms,
Since, victor of thy fears, and flighting mine,
Heaven, or thy foul, infpire, this bold defign:
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