350

Infernal Furies and Tartarian Gods,
Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare
For perjur'd kings, and all who falfely fwear!
Hear, and be witnefs. If, by Paris flain,
Great Menelaus prefs the fatal plain;
The dame and treasures let the Trojan keep,
And Greece returning plow the watery deep.
If by my brother's lance the Trojan bleed;
Be his the wealth and beauteous dame decreed :
Th' appointed fine let Ilion juftly pay,
And every age record the signal day.
Thus if the Phrygians fhall refuse to yield,
Arms muft revenge, and Mars decide the field.
With that the chief the tender victims flew,
And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw, 365
The vital ipirit iffued at the wound,

360

And left the members quivering on the ground.
From the fame urn they drink the mingled wine,
And add libations to the powers divine.
While thus their prayers united mount the fky;

And fhades eternal! let divifion ceafe,

And joyful nations join in leagues of peace.

With eves averted, Hector haftes to turn

400

The lots of fight, and thakes the brazen urn.
Then, Paris, thine leap'd forth; by fatal chance
Ordain'd the first to whirl the weighty lance. 405
Both armies fat the combat to furvey,
Befide each chief his azure armour lay,
And round the lifts the generous courfers neigh

In gilded arms magnificently bright:

410

413

The purple cuifhes clafp his thighs around,
With flowers adorn'd, and filver buckles bound:
Lycaon's corfelet his fair body dreft,
Brac'd in, and fitted to his fofter breaft:
A radiant baldric, o'er his thoulder ty'd,
Suftain'd the fword that glitter'd at his fide:
His youthful face a polish'd helm o'erfpread;
The waving ho: fe-hair nodded on his head;
His figur'd fhield, a fhining orb, he takes,
And in his hand a pointed javelin shakes.
With equal speed, and fir'd by equal charms,
The Spartan hero fheaths his limbs in arms.

420

Full on his cafque; the crested helmet shook;
The brittle steel, unfaithful to his hand,
Broke fhort: the fragments glitter'd on the fand.
The raging warriour to the fpacious skies
Rais'd his upbraiding voice, and angry eyes: 450
Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust?
And is it thus the Gods affift the juft?
When crimes provoke us, Heaven fuccefs denies;
The dart falls harmless, and the faulchion flies.
Furious he faid, and tow'rd the Grecian crew 455
(Seiz'd by the creit) th' unhappy warriour drew;
Struggling he follow'd, while th' embroider'd

thong,

That ty'd his helmet, dragg'd the chief along.
Then had his ruin crown'd Atrides' jov,
But Venus trembled for the prince of Troy : 460
Unfeen the came, and burft the golden band;
And left an empty helmet in his hand.
The cafque, enrag'd, amidst the Greeks he
threw ;

The Greeks with fimiles the polish'd trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly dart, 465
In thirst of vengeance, at his rival's heart,

470

475

The queen of love her favour'd champion shrouds
(For Gods can all things) in a veil of clouds.
Rais'd from the field the panting youth the led,
And gently laid him on the bridal bed,
With pleafing fweets his fainting sense renews,
And all the dome perfumes with heavenly dews,
Meantime the brightest of the female kind,
The matchlefs Helen, o'er the walls reclin'd;
To her, befet with Trojan beauties, came
In borrow'd form he laughter-loving dame,
(She feem'd an ancient maid, well-skill'd to cull
The fnowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The Goddefs foftly fhook her filken veft,
That shed perfumes, and whispering thus addreft:
480
Hafte, happy nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls,
Fair as a God! with odours round him fpread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed:
Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
But fome gay dancer in the public show.

She fpoke, and Helen's fecret foul was mov'd;
She fcorn'd the champion, but the man fhe lov'd.
Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
And breaft, reveal'd the Queen of foft defire. 490
Struck with her prefence, ftraight the lively red
Forlook her cheek; and, trembling, thus fhe
faid:

Then is it ftill thy pleasure to deceive?
And woman's frailty always to believe?
Say, to new nations muft I cross the main,
Or carry wars to fome foft Afian plain ?
For whom muft Helen break her fecond vow?
What other Paris is thy darling now?
Left to Atrides (victor in the ftrife)
An odious conqueft, and a captive wife,
Hence let me fail: and if thy Paris bear
My abfence ill, let Venus eafe his care.
A hand-maid Goddess at his fide to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state,
Be fix'd for ever to the Trojan fhore,

495

500

505

His fpoufe, or flave; and mount the fkies no

more.

For me, to lawless love no longer led,
I fcorn the coward, and deteft his bed;
Elfe fhould I merit everlasting fhame,

And keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame :

510

Ill fuits it now the joys of love to know,
Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe.
Then, thus incens'd, the Paphian queen re-
plies;

Obey the power from whom thy glories rife : Should Venus leave thee, every charm muft fly, 515

Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye.
Ceafe to provoke me, left I make thee more
The world's averfion, than their love before;
Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
Then the fad victim of the public rage.

520

526

At this, the fairest of her sex obey'd, And veil'd her blushes in a filken fhade; Unfeen, and filent, from the train the moves, Led by the Goddefs of the Smiles and Loves. Arriv'd, and enter'd at the palace-gate, The maids officious round their mistress wait; Then all, difperfing, various tasks attend; The queen and Goddess to the prince afcend. Fu'l in her Paris' fight, the Queen of Love Had plac'd the beauteous progeny of Jove; 530 Where as he view'd her charms, the turn'd away

Her glowing eyes, and thus began to say:

Is this the chief, who, loft to fense of shame, Late fled the field, and yet furvives his fame ? Oh hadft thou dy'd beneath the righteous fword 535 Of that brave man whom once I call'd my lord!" The boafter Paris oft defir'd the day With Sparta's king to meet in single fray : Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite, Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight: Yet Helen bids thee stay, left thou unfkill'd Should't fall an eafy conqueft on the field.

540

The prince replies: Ah ceafe, divinely fair, Nor add reproaches to the wound I bear; This day the foe prevail'd by Pallas's power; 545 We yet may vanquish in a happier hour: There want not Gods to favour us above; But let the bufinefs of our life be love: Thefe fofter moments let delight employ, And kind embraces fnatch the hafty joy. Not thus I lov'd thee, when from Sparta's fhore, My forc'd, my willing, heavenly prize I bore, When first entranc'd in Cranae's ifle I lay, Mix'd with thy foul, and all diffolv'd away! Thus having spoke, th' enamour'd Phrygian boy

550

555

560

Rufh'd to the bed, impatient for the joy.
Him Helen follow'd flow with bafhful charms,
And clafp'd the blooming hero in her arms.
While these to love's delicious rapture yield,
The ftern Atrides rages round the field:
So fome fell lion, whom the woods obey,
Roars through the defart, and demands his prey.
Paris he feeks, impatient to destroy,
But feeks in vain along the troops of Troy;
Ev'n thofe had yielded to a foe so brave
The recreant warriour, hateful as the grave.
Then fpeaking thus, the king of kings arose!
Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes!
Hear, and attest! from heaven with conquest
crown'd,

565

Our brother's arms the just fuccefs have found : 57

Be therefore now the Spartan wealth reftor'd,
Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord;
Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And age to age record this fignal day.

He ceas'd; his army's loud applaufes rife, 575 And the long fhout runs echoing through the

fkies.

The Sire whofe thunder shakes the cloudy skies

45

Sighs from his inmost soul, and thus replies:
Oh lafting rancour! oh infatiate hate
To Phrygia's monarch, and the Phrygian state!
What high offence has fir'd the wife of Jove,
Can wretched mortals harm the powers above? 50
That Troy and Troy's whole race thou would'it
con found.

And yon fair ftructures level with the ground?
Hafte, leave the fkies, fulfil thy ftern defire,
Burft all her gates, and wrap her walls in fire!
Let Priam bleed! If yet thou thirst for more, 55
Bleed all his fons, and Ilion float with gore,
To boundless vengeance the wide realm be given,
Till vaft destruction glut the Queen of Heaven!
So let it be, and Jove his peace enjoy,

When Heaven no longer hears the name of Troy :
60
But should this arm prepare to wreak our hate
On thy lov'd realms, whofe guilt demands their fate,
Prefume not thou the lifted bolt to stay ;
Remember Troy, and give the vengeance way.
For know, of all the numerous towns that rife 65
Beneath the rolling fun and ftarry skies,
Which Gods have rais'd, or earth-born men enjoy,
None stands fo dear to Jove as facred Troy.
No mortals merit more diftinguifh'd grace
Than God-like Priam, or than Priam's race,
Still to our name their hecatombs expire,
And altars blaze with unextinguifh'd fire.

70

85

At this the Goddess roll'd her radiant eyes, Then on the Thunderer fix'd them, and replies: Three towns are Juno's on the Grecian plains, 75 More dear than all th' extended earth contains, Mycane, Argos, and the Spartan wall; Thefe thou may'ft raze, nor I forbid their fall: 'Tis not in me the vengeance to remove; The crime's fufficient, that thev thare my love. So Of power fuperiour why thould I complain ? Refent I may, but muft refent in vain. Yet fome diftinction Juno might require, Sprung with thy felf from one celeftial fire, A Goddefs born to fhare the realms above, And ftyl'd the confort of the thundering Jove; Nor thou a wife and fifter's right deny; Let both confent, and both by turns comply; So fhall the Gods our joint decrees obey, And Heaven fhall act as we direct the way. See ready Pallas waits t y high commands, To raife in arms the Greek and Phrygian bands; Their fudden friendship by her arts may ceafe, And the proud Trojans firft infringe the peace. The Sire of men and Monarch of the sky, Th' advice approv'd, and bade Minerva fly, Diffolve the league, and all her arts employ To make the breach the faithless act of Troy. Fir'd with the charge, the headlong urg'd her flight,

90

95

And fhot like lightning from Olympus' height. 100
As the red comet, from Saturnius fent

To fright the nations with a dire portent
(A fatal fign to armies on the plain,
Or trembling failors on the wintery main)
With fweeping glories glides along in air,
And thakes the fparkles from its blazing hair :

105

Between both armies thus, in open fight,
Shot the bright Goddefs in a trail of light.
With eyes erect the gazing hots admire
The power defcending, and the heavens on fire!

110

The Gods (they cried) the Gods this fignal fent, And fate now labours with fome vaft event: Jove feals the league, or bloodier scenes prepares; Jove the great arbiter of peace and wars!

They faid, while Pallas through the Trojan
throng

(In fhape a mortal) pafs'd difguis'd along.
Like bold Laödocus, her course the bent,
Who from Antenor trac'd his high defcent.
Amidst the ranks Lycaon's fon the found,
The warlike Pandarus, for ftrength renown'd; 120
Whofe fquadrons, led from black fepus' flood,
With flaming fhields in martial circle flood.
To him the Goddess: Phrygian! can't thou hear
A well-tim'd counfel with a willing ear?
What praife were thine, could't thou direct thy
dart,

Amidst his triumph, to the Spartan's heart! What gifts from Troy, from Paris would't thou gain,

Thy country's foe, the Grecian glory flain!
Then feize th' occafion, dare the mighty deed,
Aim at his breaft, and may that aim fucceed! 130
But first, to speed thy fhaft, addrefs thy vow
To Lycian Phoebus with the filver bow,
And fwear the firftlings of thy flock to pay
On Zelia's altars, to the God of Day.

He heard, and madly, at the motion pleas'd, 135 His polifh'd how with hafty rafhness teiz'd. 'Twas form'd of horn, and imooth'd with artful