The whole poetical works of Alexander Pope, Esq., including his translations ...

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 th' æthereal throne,
And all ye deathlefs powers! protect my fon!
605

610

Grant him, like me, to purchafe juft 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 fucccfsful toils
Of heroes flain, he bears the reeking fpoils,
Whole hofts may hail him with deferv'd acclaim,
And fay, this chief tranfcends his father's fame:
While, pleas'd, amidst the general fhouts of Troy,
His mother's confcious heart o'erflows with joy.
615

He fpoke, and fondly gazing on her charms,
Reftor'd the pleafing burthen to her arms;
Soft on her fragrant breaft the babe the laid,
Huh'd to repofe, and with a smile furvey 'd.
The troubled pleasure feon chaftis'd by fear,
She mingled with a fmile a tender tear.
The foften'd chief with kind compaffion view'd,
And dry'd the falling drops, and thus purfued:

620

Andromache! my foul's far better part,
Why with untimely forrows heaves thy heart?

No hoftile hand can antedate my door,
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 fight can fave;
All fink alike, the fearful and the brave.
No more-but haften to thy tasks at home,
There guide the fpindle, and direct the loom;

635

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.

Thus having faid, the glorious chief resumes
His towery helmet, black with fhading plumes.
His princess parts with a prophetic figh, 640
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 god-like man,
Through all her train the foft infection ran, 645
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 warriour bends his

way.

650

665

In arms refulgent as the God of day,
The fon of Priam, glorying in his might,
Rufh'd forth with Hector to the fields of fight.
And now,' the warriours paffing on the way,
The graceful Paris firft excus'd his stay.
To whom the noble Hector thus reply'd:
O chief! in blood, and now in arms, ally'd!
Thy power in war with juftice none conteft;
Known is thy courage, and thy strength confeft.
What pity floth fhould feize a foul fo brave, 670
Or god-like Paris live a woman's flave!
My heart weeps blood at what the Trojans fay,
And hopes, thy deeds fhall wipe the ftain away.
Hafte then, in all their glorious labours share;
For much they fuffer, for thy fake, in war. 675
630 Thefe ills fhall ceafe, whene'r by Jove's decree
We crown the bowl to Heaven and Liberty:
While the proud foe his fruftrate triumphs mourns,
And Greece indignant through her feas returns.

625

THE battle renewing with double ardour upon the return of Hector, Minerva is under apprehenfions for the Greeks. Apollo, feeing her defcend from Olympus, joins her near the Scaan gate, they agree to put off the general engagement for that day, and incite Hector to challenge the Greeks to a single combat. Nine of the princes accepting the challenge, the lot is caft, and falls upon Ajax. These heroes, after feveral attacks, are parted by the night. The Trojans calling a council, Antenor propofes the delivery of Helen to the Greeks, to which Paris will not confent, but offers to restore them her riches. Priam fends a herald to make this offer, and to demand a truce for burning the dead; the last of which only is agreed to by Agamemnon. When the funerals are performed, the Greeks, purfuant to the advice of Neftor, erect a fortification to protect their fleet and camp, flanked with towers, and defended by a ditch and palifades. Neptune teftifies his jealoufy at this work, but is pacified by a promife from Jupiter. Both armies pafs the night in feafting, but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans with thunder and other figns of his wrath.

The three and twentieth day ends with the duel of Hector and Ajax: the next day the truce is agreed: another is taken up in the funeral rites of the flain; and one more in building the fortification before the fhips. So that fomewhat above three days is employed in this book. The fcene lies wholly in the field.

So fpoke the guardian of the Trojan state,

Then rush'd impetuous through the Scean gate.

Him Paris follow'd to the dire alarms;

Both breathing flaughter, both refolv'd in arms.
As when to failors labouring through the main, 5
That long had heav'd the weary oar in vain,
love bids at length th' expected gales arife,
The gales blow grateful, and the veffel flies:
So welcome thefe to Troy's defiring train;

The bands are chear'd, the war awakes again. 10
Bold Paris first the work of death begun

great Menefthens, Areithous' fon :

Sprung from the fair Philomeda's embrace,
The pleafing Arne was his native place.
Then funk Eioneus to the fhades below,
Beneath his fteely cafque he felt the blow,
Full on his neck, from Hector's weighty hand;
Acd roll'd, with limbs relax'd, along the land.

By Glaucus' fpear the bold Iphinous bleeds,
Fix'd in the fhoulder as he mounts his fteeds; 20
Headlong he tumbles: his flack nerves unbound,
Drop the cold useless members on the ground.

When now Minerva faw her Argives flain,
From vaft Olympus to the gleaming plain.
Fierce the defcends: Apollo mark'd her flight, 25
Nor fhot lefs fwift f om Ilion's towery height;
Radiant they met, beneath the beechen shade;
When thus Apollo to the blue-ey'd Maid:

What caufe, O Daughter of almighty Jove! Thus wings thy progrefs from the realms above? 30

Once more impetuous doft thou bend thy way,
To give to Greece the long-divided day?
Too much has Troy already felt thy hate,
Now breathe thy rage, and hufh the ftern debate:
This day, the bufinefs of the field fufpend;
War foon shall kindle, and great Ilion bend :

Which when fome future mariner furveys, Wath'd by broad Hellefpont's refounding feas, 100 Thus fhall he fay, "A valiant Greek lies there, "By Hector flain, the mighty man of war." The ftone fhall tell your vanquifh'd hero's name, And diftant ages learn the victor's fame.

This fierce defiance Greece aftonish'd heard, 105 Blush'd to refufe, and to accept it fear'd. Stern Menelaus firft the filence broke, And, inly groaning, thus opprobrious fpoke: Women of Greece! Oh fcandal of your race, Whofe coward fouls your manly form difgrace!

110

How great the shame, when every age fhall know That not a Grecian met this noble foe! Go then, refolve to earth, from whence ye grew, A heartless, spiritless, inglorious crew! Be what ye feem, unanimated clay! Mvfelf will dare the danger of the day. 55 'Tis man's bold talk the generous ftrife to try, But in the hands of God is victory.

Great Jove, averfe our warfare to compofe,
O'erwhelms the nations with new toils and woes;
War with a fiercer tide once more returns,
Till flion falls, or till yon navy burns.
You then, O princes of the Greeks appear;
'Tis Hector fpeaks, and calls the Gods to hear:
From all your troops felect the boldest knight,
And him, the boldeft, Hector dares to fight.
Here if I fall, by chance of battle flain,
Be his my fpoil, and his thefe arms remain;
But let my body, to my friends return'd,
By Trojan hands and Trojan flames be burn'd.
And if Apollo, in whofe aid I trust,
Shall fretch your daring champion in the duft:
If mine the glory to defpoil the foe;
On Phot us' temple I'll lus arms beitow;

The breathlefs carcafe to your navy fent,

Greece on the fhore hall raise a monument;

1.5

Thefe words fcarce fpoke, with generous ardour preft,

His manly limbs in azure arms he drest:
That day, Atrides! a fuperiour hand

120

Had itretch'd thee breathlefs on the hostile strand,
But all at once, thy fury to compose,
The kings of Greece, an awful band, arose:
Ev'n he their chief, great Agamemnon, prefs'd

125

Thy daring hand, and this advice addrefs'd:
Whither, O Menelaus! wouldit thou run,
And tempt a fate, which prudence bids thee fhun?
Griev'd though thou art, forbear the rash defign;
Great Hector's arm is mightier far than thine. 130
Ev'n fierce Achilles learn'd its force to fear,
And trembling met this dreadful fon of war.
Sit thou fecure amidst thy focial band;
Greece in our caufe fhall arm fome powerful hand,
The mightiest warriour of th' Achaian name, 135
Though bold, and burning with defire of fame,
Content, the doubtful honour might forego,
So great the danger, and fo brave the foe.

He faid, and turn'd his brother's vengeful mind;
He stoop'd to reason, and his rage refign'd, 140
No longer bent to rufh on certain harms;
His joyful friends unbrace his azure arms.

He, from whofe lips divine perfuafion flows,
Grave Neftor, then, in graceful act arose.
Thus to the kings he fpoke: What grief, what
flame,

Attend on Greece, and all the Grecian name!
How fhall, alas her hoary heroes mourn
Their fons degenerate, and their race a fcorn?
What tears thall down thy filver beard be roll'd,
Oh Peleus, old in arms, in wisdom old !
Once with what joy the generous prince would

hear

150

170

Where Celadon rolls down his rapid tide.
There Ereuthalion brav'd us in the field,
Proud, Areïthous' dreadful arms to wield;
Great Areïthous, known from fhore to fhore
By the huge, knotted, iron mace he bore;
No lance he fhook, nor bent the twanging bow,
But broke, with this, the battle of the foe.
Him not by manly force Lycurgus flew,
Whofe guileful javelin from the thicket flew,
Deep in a winding way his breaft affail'd,
175
Nor aught the warriour's thundering mace a-
vail'd.

180

185

Supine he fell thofe arms which Mars before
Had given the vanquish'd, now the victor bore:
But when old age had dimm'd Lycurgus' eyes,
To Ereuthalion he confign'd the prize.
Furious with this, he crufh'd our level'd bands,
And dar'd the trial of the strongest hands;
Nor could the ftrongeft hands his fury stay;
All faw, and fear'd, his huge tempeftuous fway.
Till I, the youngest of the host appear'd,
And, youngest, met whom all our army fear'd.
I fought the chief: my arms Minerva crown'd :
Prone feil the giant o'er a length of ground.
What then he was, Oh were you Neftor now!
Not Hector's felf fhould want an equal foe.
But, warriours, you, that youthful vigour boaft,
The flower of Greece, th' examples of our hoft,
Sprung from fuch fathers, who fuch numbers
fway,

Can you stand trembling, and defert the day?

190

His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame;

495

200

And nine, the nobleft of the Grecian name,
Up-started fierce: but far before the rest
The king of men advanc'd his dauntlefs breaft:
Then bold Tydides, great in arms appear'd;
And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear'd;
Oilens followed; Idomen was there,
And Merion dreadful as the God of War:
With thefe Eurypylus and Thoas ftand,
And wife Ulyffes clos'd the daring band.
All thefe, alike infpir'd with noble rage,
Demand the fight. To whom the Pylian fage :
Left thirst of glory your brave fouls divide;
What chief thall combat, let the lots decide.
Whom heaven fhall chufe, be his the chance to
raife

205

Old Neftor fhook the cafque. By heaven in

fpir'd,

225

Leap'd forth the lot, of every Greek defir'd. 220
This from the right to left the herald bears,
Held out in order to the Grecian peers;
Each to his rival yields the mark unknown,
Till god-like Ajax finds the lot his own;
Surveys th' infcription with rejoicing eyes,
Then cafts before him, and with transport cries:
Warrious! I claim the lot, and arm with joy;
Be mine the conqueft of this chief of Troy.
Now while my brightest arms my limbs inveft,
To Saturn's fon be all your vows addrest: 230
But pray in fecret, left the foes should hear,
And deem your prayers the mean effects of fear.
Said I in fecret? No, your vows declare,
In fuch a voice as fills the earth and air.
Lives the e a chief whom Ajax ought to dread,

235

Ajax in all the toils of battle bred?
From warlike Salamis I drew my birth,
And, born to combats, fear no force on earth.
He faid. The troops, with elevated eyes,
Implore the God, whofe thunder rends the skies:

O Father of mankind, fuperior Lord!
On lofty Ida's holy hill ador'd;

240

245

Who in the highest heaven haft fix'd thy throne,
Supreme of Gods! unbounded and alone :
Grant thou, that Telamon may bear away
The praife and conqueft of this doubtful day;
Or if illuftrious Hector be thy care,
That both may claim it, and that both may share.
Now Ajax brac'd his dazzling armour on;
Sheath'd in bright steel the giant-warriour shone:
259

He moves to combat with majestic pace;
So ftalks in arms the grizly God of Thrace,
When Jove to punish faithlefs men prepares
And gives whole nations to the wafte of wars.
Thus march'd the chief, tremendous as a God:

255

Grimly he fmil'd; earth trembled as he strode :
His maffy javelin, quivering in his hand,
He stood, the bulwark of the Grecian band.
Through every Argive heart new transport ran ;
All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man: 260
Ev'n Hector paus'd; and, with new doubt op-
preft,

Felt his great heart fufpended in his breast:
'Twas vain to feek retreat, and vain to fear;
Himfelf had challeng'd, and the foe drew near.
Stern Telamon behind his ample shield,
As from a brazen tower, o'erlook'd the field.
Huge was its orb, with feven thick folds o'er-
caft

265

270

Of tough bull-hides; of folid brass the laft,
(The work of Tychius, who in Hylè dwell'd,
And all in arts of armoury excell'd :)
This Ajax bore before his manly breast,
And, threatening, thus his adverfe chief addreft
Hector! approach my arm! and fingly know
What strength thou haft, and what the Grecian

foe.

Achilles thuns the fight; yet fome there are, 2.5. Not void of foul, and not unfkill'd in wars

285

O fon of Telamon, thy country's pride!
(To Ajax thus the Trojan prince reply'd)
Me as a boy or woman would't thou fright,
New to the field, and trembling at the fight?
Thou meet'it a chief deferving of thy arms,
To conibat born, and bied amidst alarms:
I know to fhift my ground, remount the car,
Turn, charge, and afwer every call of war;
290

To right, to left, the dexterous lance I wield,
And bear thick battle on my founding fhield.
But open be our fight, and bo'd each blow;
I fteal no conqueft from a noble foe.

He faid; and, rifing high above the field, 295 Whirl'd the long lance against the fevenfold field.

Full on the brafs defcending from above
Through fix bull-hides the furious weapon drove,
Till in the feventh it fix'd. Then Ajax threw ;
Through Heater's fhicld the forceful javelin flew,
390

His corflet enters, and his garment rends,
And glancing downwards near his flank defcends.
The wary Trojan shrinks, and, bending low
Beneath his buckler, difappoints the blow.
From their bor'd fhields the chiefs theirs javelins
drew,

Then clofe impetuous, and the charge renew:
Fierce as the mountain-lions bath'd in blood,
Or foaming boars, the terror of the wood.
At Ajax, Hector his long lance extends;
The blunted point against the buckler bends: 310
But Ajax, watchful as his foe drew near,
Drove through the Trojan targe the knotty fpear;
It reach'd his neck, with matchiefs ftrength im-
pell'd;

Spouts the black gore, and dims his fhining fhield.

Yet ceas'd not Hector thus; but, ftooping down, 315

In his ftrong hand up-heav'd a flinty ftone,
Black, craggy, vaft: to this his force he bends;
Full on the brazen bofs the ftone defcends;
The hollow brafs refounded with the thock.
Then Ajax feiz'd the fragment of a rock,
Apply'd each nerve, and fwinging round on
high,

With force tempeftuous let the ruin fly:

320

The huge ftone thundering through his buckler broke:

But then by heralds' voice the word was given,
The facred minifters of earth and heaven:
Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ,
And fage Idæus on the part of Troy
Between the fwords their peaceful fceptres rear'd;
335

And firft Idæus' awful voice was heard:
Forbear, my fous! your farther force to prove,
Both dear to men, and both belov'd of Jove.
To either hoft your matchlefs worth is known,
Each founds your praife, and war is all your own.
340

But now the night extends her awful fhade;
The Goddess parts you: be the night obey'd.
To whom great Ajax his high foul exprefs'd:
"O Sage! to Hector be thefe words addrefs'd;
"Let him who first provok'd our chiefs to fight,

355

Now martial law commands us to forbear;
Hereafter we fhall mest in glorious war,
Some future day fhall lengthen out our ftrife,
And let the Gods decide of death or life!
Since then the night extends her gloomy fhade,
And Heaven enjoins it, be the night obey'd.
Return, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian friends,
And joy the nations whom thy arm defends;
As I fhall glad each chief, and Trojan wife, 360
Who wearies Heaven with vows for Hector's life.
But let us, on this memorable day,

Exchange fome gift; that Grecce and Troy may fay,

"Not hate, but glory, made thefe chiefs contend:

"And each brave foe was in his foul a friend."

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