He said : compassion touch'd the hero's heart
He stood, suspended with the lifted dart:
As pity pleaded for his vanquish'd prize,
Stern Agamemnon swift to vengeance flies,
And, furious, thus : “Oh impotent of mind ! *
Shall these, shall these Atrides' mercy find ?
Well hast thou known proud Troy's perfidious land,
And well her natives merit at thy hand !
Not one of all the race, nor sex, nor age,
Shall save a Trojan from our boundless rage.
Ilion shall perish whole, and bury all;
Her babes, her infants at the breast, shall fall; †
A dreadful lesson of exampled fate,
To warn the nations, and to curb the great !”

The monarch spoke ; the words, with warnıth address’d,
To rigid justice steel'd' his brother's breast.
Fierce from his knees the hapless chief he thrust;
The monarch’s javelin stretch'd him in the dust,
Then pressing with his foot his panting heart,
Forth from the slain he tugg'd the reeking dart.
Old Nestor saw, and roused the warrior's rage ;
“Thus, heroes! thus the vigorous combat wage ;
No son of Mars descend, for servile gains,
To touch the booty, while a foe remains.
Behold yon glittering host, your future spoil !
First gain the conquest, then reward the toil.”

And now that Greece eternal fame acquired,
And frighted Troy within her walls, retired,
Had not sage Helenus her state redress'd,
Taught by the gods that moved his sacred breast.
Where Hector stood, with great Æneas join’d,
The seer reveal'd the counsels of his mind.

“Ye generous chiefs ! on whom the immortals lay
The cares and glories of this doubtful day;
On whom your aids, your country's hopes depend;
Wise to consult, and active to defend !
Here, at our gates, your brave efforts unite,
Turn back the routed, and forbid the fight,

*

Ere yet their wives' soft arms the cowards gain,
The sport and insult of the hostile train.
When your commands have hearten'd every band,
Ourselves, here fix’d, will make the dangerous stand ;
Press'd as we are, and sore of former fight,
These straits demand last remains of might.
Meanwhile thou, Hector, to the town retire,
And teach our mother what the gods require :
Direct the queen to lead the assembled train
Of Troy's chief matrons to Minerva's fane ;
Unbar the sacred gates, and seek the power,
With offer'd vows, in Ilion's topmost tower.
The largest mantle her rich wardrobes hold,
Most prized for art, and labor’d o'er with gold,
Before the goddess' honor'd knees be spread,
And twelve young heifers to her altars led :
If so the power, atoned by fervent prayer,
Our wives, our infants, and our city spare,
And far avert Tydides' wasteful ire,
That mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire ;
Not thus Achilles taught our hosts to dread,
Sprung though he was from more than mortal bed;
Not thus resistless ruled the stream 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 host inspiring force he flies,
And bids the thunder of the battle rise.
With rage recruited the bold Trojans glow,
And turn the tide of conflict on the foe :
Fierce in the front he shakes two dazzling spears ;
All Greece recedes, and 'midst her triumphs fears ;
Some god, they thought, who ruled the fate of wars,
Shot down avenging from the vault of stars.

Then thus aloud : “ Ye dauntless Dardans, hear!
And you whom distant nations send to war !
Be mindful of the strength your fathers bore ;
Be still yourselves, and Hector asks no more.
One hour demands me in the Trojan wall,
To bid our altars flame, and victims fall:
Nor shall, I trust, the natrons' holy tra
And reverend elders, seek the gods in vain.”

“Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe,

To Pallas' fane in long procession go,
In hopes to reconcile their heav'nly foe:
They weep; they beat their breasts; they rend their hair,
And rich embroider'd vests for presents bear.”

Dryden's Virgil, i. 670.

This said, with ample strides the hero pass'd;
The shield's large orb behind his shoulder cast,
His neck o'ershading, to his ankle hung;
And as he march'd the brazen buckler rung.

Now paused the battle (godlike Hector gone),
Where daring Glaucus and great Tydeus' son
Between both armies met: the chiefs from far
Observed each other, and had mark'd for war.
Near as they drew, Tydides. thus began :

“ What art thou, boldest of the race of man? Our eyes till now that aspect ne'er beheld, Where fame is reap'd amid the embattled field; Yet far before the troops thou dar’st appear, And meet a lance the fiercest heroes fear. Unhappy they, and born of luckless sires, Who tempt our fury when Minerva fires ! But if from heaven, celestial, thou descend, 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 Nyssa's sacred grove : Their consecrated spears lay scatter'd round, With curling vines and twisted ivy bound; While Bacchus headlong sought the briny flood, And Thetis' arms received the trembling god. Nor fail'd the crime the immortal's wrath to move (The immortals bless'd with endless ease above); Deprived of sight by their avenging doom, Cheerless he breath'd, and wanderd in the gloom, Then sunk unpitied to the dire abodes, A wretch accursed, 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 sire (Replied the chief), can Tydeus' son inquire ? Like leaves on trees the race of man i found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;

Another race the following spring supplies;
They fall successive, and successive rise :
So generations in their course decay ;
So fourish these, when those are pass’d away.
But if thou still persist to search my birth,
Then hear a tale that fills the spacious earth.

“A city stands on Argos' utmost bound
(Argos the fair, for warlike steeds renown'd),
Æolian Sisyphus, with wisdom bless’d,
In ancient time the happy wall possess'd,
Then callid Ephyré : Glaucus was his són;
Great Glaucus, father of Bellerophon,
Who o'er the sons of men in beauty shined,
Loved for that valor which preserves mankind.
Then mighty Prætus Argos sceptre sway'd,
Whose hard commands Bellerophon obey'd.
With direful jealousy the monarch raged,
And the brave prince in numerous toils engaged.
For him Antæa burn'd with lawless flame,
And strove to tempt him from the paths of fame :
In vain she tempted the relentless youth,
Endued with wisdom, sacred fear, and truth.
Fired at his scorn the queen to Prætus fled,
And begg'd revenge for her insulted bed :
Incensed he heard, resolving on his fate ;
But hospitable laws restrain'd his hate :
To Lycia the devoted youth he sent,
With tablets seal'd, that told his dire intent.*
Now bless'd by every power who guards the good,
The chief arrived at Xanthus' silver flood :
There Lycia's monarch paid him honors due,
Nine days he feasted, and nine bulls he slew.
But when the tenth bright morning orient glow'd,
The faithful youth his monarch's mandate show'd:
The fatal tablets, till that instant seald,
The deathful secret to the king reveal’d.
First, dire Chimæra's conquest was enjoin'd;
A mingled monster of no mortal kind !
Behind, a dragon's fiery tail was spread;
A goat's rough body bore a lion's head;
Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames re;
Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.

“This pest he slaughter'd (for he read the skies, And trusted heaven's

informing prodigies), * With tablets sealed. These probably were only devices of a hierogiyphical character. Whether writing was known in the Homeric times is utterly uncertain. See Grote, vol. ii. p. 192, sqq.

Then met in arms the Solymæan crew *
(Fiercest of men), and those the warrior slew;
Next the bold Amazons' whole force defied ;
And conquer'd still, for heaven was on his side.

• Nor ended here his toils : his Lycian foes,
At his return, a treacherous ambush rose,
With levell’d spears along the winding shore :
There fell they breathless, and return'd no more.

• At length the monarch, with repentant grief,
Confess'd the gods, and god-descended chief ;
His daughter gave, the stranger to detain,
With half the honors of his ample reign :
The Lycians grant a chosen space of ground,
With woods, with vineyards, and with harvests crown'd.
There long the chief his happy lot possessid,
With two brave sons and one fair daughter bless'd
(Fair e’en in heavenly eyes : her fruitful love
Crown'd with Sarpedon's birth the embrace of Jove);
But when at last, distracted in his mind,
Forsook by heaven, forsaking humankind,
Wide o'er the Aleian field he chose to stray,
A long, forlorn, uneomfortable way! +
Woes heap'd on woes consumed his wasted heart:
His beauteous daughter fell by Phoebe's dart;
His eldest born by raging Mars was slain,
In combat on the Solymæan plain.
Hippolochus survived: from him I came,
The honor'd author of my birth and name;
By his decree I sought the Trojan town;
By his instructions learn to win renown,
To stand the first in worth as in command,
To add new honors to my native land,
Before my eyes my mighty sires to place,
And emulate the glories of our race."

He spoke, and transport fill’d Tydides' heart;
In earth the generous warrior fix'd his dart,
Then friendly, thus the Lycian prince address'd:
“ Welcome, my brave hereditary guest!
Thus ever let us meet, with kind embrace,
Nor stain the sacred friendship of our race.
Know, chief, our grandsires have been guests of old;
Eneus the strong, Bellerophon the bold :

Solymæan crew, a people of Lycia. † From this “ melancholy madness" of Bellerophon, hypochondria received the nanie of “ Morbus Belierophonteus." See my notes in my prose translation, p. 112. The “ Aleian field,” i.e. " the plain of wandering,” was situated between the rivers Pyramus and Pinarus, in Cilicia.