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The Contention of Achilles and Agamemnon.

IN the war of Troy, the Greeks, having facked some of the neighbouring towns, and taken from thence two beautiful captives, Chryfeis and Brifeis, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and the laft to Achilles. Chryfes, the father of Chryfeïs, and prieft of Apollo, comes to the Grecian camp to ranfom her; with which the action of the poem opens, in the tenth year of the fiege. The priest being refused, and infolently difmiffed by Agamemnon, intreats for vengeance from his God, who inflicts a peftilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a council, and encourages Chalcas to declare the cause of it, who attributes it to the refufal of Chryfeis. The king being obliged to fend back his captive, enters into a furious conteft with Achilles, which Nefton pacifies; however, as he had the abfolute command of the army, he feizes on Brifeis in revenge. Achilles in difcontent withdraws himself and his forces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, fhe fupplicates Jupiter to render them fenfible of the wrong done to her fon, by giving victory to the Trojans. Fupiter granting her fuit incenfes Juno, between whom the debate runs high, till they are reconciled by the addrefs of Vulcan.

nine during the plague, Jupiter's ftay with the The fcene lies in the

The time of two and twenty days is taken up in this book;
one in the council and quarrel of the princes, and twelve for
Ethiopians, at whofe return Thetis prefers her petition.
Grecian camp, then changes to Chryfa, and laftly to Olympus.

A

CHILLES' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly Goddess fing!
That wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign
The fouls of mighty chiefs untimely flain;
Whofe limbs unbury'd on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore;
Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,

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Declare, O Mufe! in what ill-fated hour,
Sprung the fierce ftrife, from what offended power? 19
Latona s fon a dire contagion fpread,

And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead;
The king of men his reverend prieft defy'd,
And for the king's offence the people dy'd.
For Chryfes fought with coftly gifts to gain

Such was the fovereign doom, and fuch the will of His captive daughter from the victor's chain

Jove.

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Ye kings and warriours! may your vows be crown'd,

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
May Jove reftore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your nat.ve shore.
But oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,
And give Chryfeis to these arms again;

If mercy fail, yet let my presents move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, fon of Jove.

The Creeks in fhouts their joint affent declare,
The priest to reverence, and release the fair.
Not fo Atrides: he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the facred fire, and thus reply'd:

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Hence, on thy life, and fly thofe hoftile plains, 35
Nor afk, prefumptuous, what the king detains ;
Hence, with tny laurel crown, and golden rod,
Nor truft too far those ensigns of thy God.
Mine is thy daughter, priest, and fhall remain;
And prayers, and tears, and brib.s, shall plead in
vain;

Till time thall rife every youthful grace,
And age difmifs her from my cold embrace,
In daily labours of the loom employ'd,
Or doom'd to deck the bed the once enjoy'd.
Hence then, to Argos fhall the maid retire,
Far from her native foil, and weeping fire.

The trembling prieft along the fhore return'd,
And in the anguish of a father mourn'd.
Difconfolate, not daring to complain,
Silent he wander'd by the founding main :
Till, fafe at diftance, to his God he prays,
The God who darts around the world his rays.

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O Smintheus! fprung from fair Latona's line, Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine, Thou fource of light! whom Tenedos adores, And whose bright prefence gilds thy Chryfa's fhores: If e'er with wreaths I hung thy facred fane, Or fed the flames with fat of oxen flain; God of the filver bow! thy fhafts employ, Avenge thy fervant, and the Greeks destroy.

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Thus Chryfes pray'd: The favouring power attends,

And from Olympus' lofty tops defcends.
bent was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound;
Fierce as he mov'd, his filver shafts refound;
Breathing revenge, a sudden night he spread,
And gloomy darkness roll'd about his head.
The fleet in view, he twang'd his deadly bow,
And hiffing fly the feather'd fates below.
On mules and dogs th' infection first began ;
And laft, the vengeful arrows fix'd in man.
For nine long nights through all the dusky air
The pyres thick flaming hot a difmal glare.
But ere the terth revolving day was run,
Infpir'd by Juno, Thetis' god-like fon

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Conven'd to council all the Grecian train:
For much the Goddess mourn'd her heroes flain.
Th' affembly feated, rifing o'er the rest,

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Achilles thus the king of men addreft:

Why leave we not the fatal Trojan fhore, And measure back the feas we croft before?

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He said, and fat: when Chalcas thus repli'd: Chalcas the wife, the Grecian priest and guide, That facred feer, whose comprehensive view The paft, the prefent, and the suture knew: Uprifing flow, the venerable fage Thus fpoke the prudence and the fears of age. Belov'd of Jove, Achilles! would'ft thou know Why angry Phoebus bends his fatal bow? First give thy faith, and plight a prince's word Of fure protection, by thy power and sword. For I must speak what wifdom would conceal, And truths, invidious to the great, reveal. Bold is the task, when subjects grown too wife, Inftruct a monarch where his error lies;

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For though we deem the short-liv'd fury paft, 105 'Tis fore, the Mighty will revenge at last.

To whom Pelides. From thy inmost soul Speak what thou know'st, and speak without controul.

Ev'n by that God I swear, 'who rules the day,
Towhom thy hands the vows of Greece convey, 110
And whose bleft oracles thy lips declare;

Long as Achilles breathes this vital air,
No daring Greek of all the numerous band
Against his priest shall lift an impious hand:
Not ev'n the chief by whom our hosts are led, 115
The king of kings, fhall touch that facred head.

Encourag'd thus, the blameless man replies;
Nor vows unpaid, nor flighted facrifice,

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But he, our chief, provok'd the raging pest,
Apollo's vengeance for his injur'd priest,
Nor will the God's awaken'd fury cease,
But plagues fhall spread, and funeral fires increase,
Till the great king, without a ransom paid,
To her own Chryfa fend the black-ey'd maid.
Perhaps, with added facrifice and prayer,
The priest may pardon, and the God may spare.
The prophet fpoke; when with a gloomy frown
The monarch started from his fhining throne;
Black choler fill'd his breaft that boil'd with ire,
And from his eye- balls flash'd the living fire.
Augur accurft! denouncing mischief still,
Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill!

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Still muft that tongue fome wounding meffage bring,
And still thy prieftly pride provoke thy king?
For this are Phoebus' oracles explor'd,
To teach the Greeks to murmur at their Lord?
For this with falfehoods is my honour stain'd,
Is heaven offended, and a priest profan'd;
Because my prize, my beauteous maid I hold,
And heavenly charms prefer to proffer'd gold? 140
A maid, unmatch'd in manners as in face,
Skill'd in each art, and crown'd with every grace.
Not half fo dear were Clytemnestra's chai ms,
When first her blooming beauties bleft my arms.
Yet if the Gods de mand her, let her fail;
Our caes are only for the public weal:

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Let me be deem'd the hateful cause of all,
And fuffer, rather than my people fall.
The prize, the beauteous prize, I will refign,
So dearly valued, and fo juftly mine.
But fince for common good I yield the fair,
My private lofs let grateful Greece repair;
Nor unrewarded let your prince complain,
That he alone has fought and bled in vain.
Infatiate king (Achilles thus replies)
Fond of the power, but fonder of the prize!
Would'st thou the Greeks their lawful prey should
yield,

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The due reward of many a well-fought field?
The fpoils of cities raz'd, and warriours flain,
We share with juftice, as with toil we gain :
But to refume whate'er thy avarice craves
(That trick of tyrants) may be borne by flaves.
Yet if our chief for plunder only fight,
The fpoils of Ilion fhall thy lofs requite,
Whene'er by Jove's decree our conquering powers 165
Shall humble to the duft her lofty towers.

Then thus the king. Shall I my prize refign
With tame content, and thou poffett of thine?
Great as thou art, and like a God in fight,
Think not to rob me of a foldier's right.
At thy demand fhal! I restore the maid?
First let the juft equivalent be paid;
Such as a king might afk; and let it be
A treasure worthy her, and worthy me.
Or grant me this, or with a monarch's claim,
This hand fhall feize fome other captive dame;
The mighty Ajax fhall his prize resign,
Ulyffes' fpoils, or ev'n thy own be mine.
The man who fuffers, loudly may complain;
And rage he may, but he fhall rage in vain.
But this when time requires-It now remains
We launch a bark to plow the watery plains,
And waft the facrifice to Chryfa's fhores,
With chofen pilots, and with labouring oars..
Soon fhall the fair the fable fhip afcend,
And fome deputed prince the charge attend:
This Creta's king, or Ajax fhall fulfill,
Or wife Ulyffes fee perform'd our will;
Or, if our royal pleasure shall ordain,
Achilles' felf conduct her o'er the main;
Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in his rage,
The God propitiate, and the peft affuage.

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Is this the pay our blood and toils deferve;
Difgrac'd and injur'd by the man we ferve?
And dar'ft thou threat to fnatch 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 ships I bear,
Or barren praifes pay the wounds of war.
But know, proud monarch, I'm thy flave no more ;
My fleet fhall waft me to Theffalia's share.
Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain,
What fpoils, what conquefts, fhall Atrides gain?
To this the king: Fly, mighty warriour! fly, 225
Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy.
There want not chiefs in fuch a caufe to fight,
And Jove himself fhall guard a monarch's right.
Of all the kings (the God's diftinguifh'd care)
To power fuperior none fuch hatred bear:
Strife and debate thy reftlefs foui employ,
And wars and horrors are thy favage joy ;

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If thou haft ftrength, 'twas heaven that strength be

ftow'd,

For know, vain man! thy valour is from God.
Hafte, launch thy veifels, fly with speed away, 235
Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway:

I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
Thy fhort-liv'd friend/hip, and thy groundless hate.
Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons; but here
'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear. 240
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 fairg
Ev'n in thy tent I'll feize the blooming prize,
Thy lov'd Brifeis with the radiant eyes,

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Hence fhalt thou prove my might, and curfe the hour.
Thou flood'it a rival of imperial power;
And hence to all our hoft it shall be known,
That kings are fubjects 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 his deadly fword, 255 Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty

lord:

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At this Pelides, frowning ftern, reply'd: O tyrant, arm'd with infolence and pride! Inglorious flave to intereft, ever join'd With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind! What generous Greek, obedient to thy wor!, Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword? What cause have I to war at thy decree? The diftant Trojans never injur'd me: 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, Whofe fruitful foil luxuriant harvests grace, Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race. Hither we fail'd, a voluntary throng, Tavenge a private, not a public wrong: What elfe to Troy th' affembled nations draws, But thine, ungrateful, and thy brother's caufe? 210 VOL. VI.

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Minerva swift defcended from above,

Achilles feiz'd; to him alone confeft;
A fable cloud conceal'd her from the rest.
He fees, and fudden to the Goddef's cries,
Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes.
Defcends Minerva in her guardian care,
A heavenly witnefs of the wrongs i bear
From Atreus' fon: then let thofe eyes that view
The daring crime, behold the vengeance too,

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Forbear! (the progeny of Jove replies) To calm thy fury I forfake the skies: Let great Achilles, to the Gods refign'd, To reafon yield the empire o'er his mind. By awful Juno this command is given;

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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 truft a heavenly power)
Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour,
When the proud monarch fhall thy arms implore,
And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store.
Then let revenge no longer bear the sway,
Command thy paffions, and the Gods obey.
To her Pelides. With regardful ear
"Tis juft, O Goddess! I thy d &ates hear.
Hard as it is, my vengeance I fupprefs:
Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will blefs. 290
He faid, obfervant of the blue-ey'd maid;
Then in the sheath return'd the shining blade.
The Goddess íwift to high Olympus flies,
And joins the facred fenate of the fkies.

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Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forfook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke. O monster! mix'd of infolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer! When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare, Or nobly face the horrid front of war? '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 defpoila foe. Scourge of thy people, violent and bafe! Sent by Jove's anger on a flavith race, Who, loft to fenfe of generous freedom paft, Are tam'd to wrongs, or this had been thy last. Now by this facred fcepter hear me fwear, Which never more fhall leaves or blooms bear,

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A Godlike race of heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more thefe aged eyes fhall view!
Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame,
Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathlefs name;
Thefeus, endued with more than mortal might,
Or Polyphemus, like the Gods in fight?
With thefe of old to toils of battle bred,
In early youth my hardy days I led :

Fir'd with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds,
And fmit with love of honourable deeds.
Strongest of men, thy pierc'd the mountain
boar,

Rang'd the wild defarts red with monsters

gore,

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And from their hills the fhaggy Centaurs tore.
Yet thefe with foft, perfuafive arts I fway'd;
When Neftor fpoke, they liften'd and obey'd.
If in my youth, ev'n thefe efteem'd me wife; 360
Do you, young warriours, hear my age advife.
Atrides, feize not on the beauteous flave;
That prize the Greeks by common fuffrage gave:
Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride;
Let kings be juft, and fovereign power prefide.
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Thee, the firft honours of the war adorn,
Like Gods in ftrength, and of a Goddess born;
Him, awful majesty exalts above
The powers of earth, and fcepter'd fons of Jove.
Let both unite, with well confenting mind, ́ 370
So fhall authority with ftrength be join'd.
Leave me, O king to claim Achilles' rage;
Rule thou thy felf, as more advanc'd in age.
Forbid it Gods! Achilles fhould be loft,
The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our hoft.

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This faid, he ceas'd: the king of men replies:
Thy years are awful, and thy words are wife.
But that imperious, that unconquer'd foul,
No laws can limit, no refpect controul.
Before his pride muft his fuperiours fall,
His word the law, and he the lord of all ?
Him muft our hofts, our chiefs, ourselves obey!
What king can bear a rival in his fway?
Grant that the Gods his matchlefs force hath
given;

Has foul reproach a privilege from Heaven? 385
rere on the monarch's fpeech Achilles broke,
And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke :
Tyrant, I well deferv'd thy galing chain,
To live thy flave, and still to ferve in vain ; -

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With pure luftrations, and with folemn prayers.
Wash'd by the briny wave, the pious train
Are cleans'd, and caft th' ablutions in the main.
Along the shore whole hecacombs were laid,
And bulls and goats to Phoebus' altars paid,
The fab e fumes in curling (pires arife,
And waft their grateful odours to the skies.
The army thus in facred rites engag'd,
Atrides ftill with deep refentment rag'd.
To wait his will, two facred heralds stood,
Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
Hafte to the fierce Achilles' tent (he cries)
Thence bear Brifeïs as our royal prize:
Submit he muft; or, if they will not part,
Dartelf in arms fhall tear her from his heart. 425
Th' unwilling heralds act their lord's com-
mands;

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Not fo his lofs the fierce Achilles bore;
But fad retiring to the founding thore,
O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung,
That kindred deep from whence his mother
fprung:

There, bath'd in tears of anger and disdain,
Thus loud lamented to the ftormy main:

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O parent Goddefs! fince in early bloom
Thy fon must fall, by too fevere a doom;
Sure, to fo fhort a race of glory born,
Great Jove in Juftice fhould this fpan adorn :
Honour and fame at least the Thunderer ow'd,
And ill he pays the promise of a God;
If yon proud monarch thus thy fon defies,
Obfcures my glories, and refumes my prize. "
Far from the deep receffes of the main,
Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign,
The Goddefs-mother heard. The waves divide:
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And like a mift fhe rose above the tide ;
Beheld him mourning on the naked fhores,
And thus the forrows of his foul explores.
Why grieves my fon? Thy anguifh let me share,
Reveal the caufe, and truft a parent's care. 475
He deeply fighing faid: To tell my woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know.
From Thebe facred to Apollo's name,

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420 (Aëtion's realm) our conquering army came,
With treafure loaded and triumphant fpoils; 480
Whofe juft divifions crown'd the folder's toils
But bright Chryfeis, heavenly prize! was led,
By vote felected, to the general's bed.
The priest of Phoebus fought by gifts to gain
His beauteous daughter from the victor's chain;

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Penfive they walk along the barren fands:
Arriv'd, the hero in his tent they find,
With gloomy afpect, on his arm reclin'd.
At awful distance long they filent stand,
Loth to advance, or fpeak their hard command;
D-cent confufion! This the godlike man
Perceiv'd, and thus with accent mild began:
With leave and honour enter our abodes,
Ye lacred minifters of men and Gods!
I know your meffage; by constraint you came;
Not you, but your imperious iord I blame,
Patroclus hafte, the fair Brifeis bring;
Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
But witnefs, heralds, and proclaim my vow, 440
Witness to Gods above, and men below!
But first, and loudest to your prince declare,
That lawless tyrant whofe commands you bear;
Unmov'd as death Achilles fhall remain,
Though proftrate Greece fhould bleed at ev'ry

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The fleet he reach'd, and lowly bending down,
Held forth the fceptre and the laurel crown,
Entreating all but chief implor'd for grace
The brother-kings of Atreus' royal race:
The generous Greeks their joint confent declare,
490

The priest to reverence, and release the fair;'
Not fo Atrides: He, with wonted pride,
The fire infulted, and his gifts deny'd :
Thinfulted fire (his God's peculiar care)
To Phoebus pray'd, and Phœbus heard the
prayer:

A dreadful plague enfues; th' avenging darts 495
Inceilant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts.
A prophet then, infpir'd by Heaven arose,
And points the crime, and thence derives t

woes.

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Myfelf the first th' affembled chiefs incline
Tavert the avengeance of the power divine;
Then rifing in his wrath, the monarch ftorm'd;
Incens'd he threaten'd, and his threats per-
form'd:

The fair Chryfeïs to her fire was fent,
With offer'd gifts to make the God relent; 505

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