With hands upheld, and thus invoked his god:
God of the silver bow, whose eyes survey
The sacred Cilla, thou, whose awful sway
Chrysa the bless'd, and Tenedos obey:
Now hear, as thou before my prayer hast heard,
Against the Grecians, and their prince, preferr'd:
Once thou hast honour'd, honour once again
Thy priest; nor let his second vows be vain.
But from the afflicted host and humbled prince
Avert thy wrath, and cease thy pestilence.
Apollo heard, and, conquering his disdain,
Unbent his bow, and Greece respired again.
o'er; Awaked, with labouring oars they leave the shore: The Power, appeased, with winds sufficed the sail, The bellying canvas strutted with the gale; The waves indignant roar with surly pride, And press against the sides, and beaten off divide. They cut the foamy way, with force impell'd Superior, till the Trojan port they held: Then, hauling on the strand, their galley moor, And pitch their tents along the crooked shore. 660 Meantime the goddess-born in secret pined; Nor visited the camp, nor in the council join'd, But, keeping close, his gnawing heart he fed With hopes of vengeance on the tyrant's head: And wish'd for bloody wars and mortal wounds, 665 And of the Greeks oppress'd in fight to hear the dying sounds.
Now, when twelve days complete had run their
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Have served thy will, or gratified thy thought, 680
One glimpse of glory to my issue give;
Graced for the little time he has to live.
Dishonour'd by the king of men he stands :
His rightful prize is ravish'd from his hands.
But thou, O father, in my son's defence,
Assume thy power, assert thy providence.
Let Troy prevail, till Greece the affront has paid
With doubled honours, and redeem'd his aid.
She ceased, but the considering god was mute:
Till she, resolved to win, renew'd her suit;
Nor loosed her hold, but forced him to reply:
Or grant me my petition, or deny :
Jove cannot fear: then tell me to my face
That I, of all the gods, am least in grace.
This I can bear. The Cloud-compeller mourn'd,
And sighing first, this answer he return'd:
Know'st thou what clamours will disturb my
What my stunn'd ears from Juno must sustain ?
In council she gives licence to her tongue,
Loquacious, brawling, ever in the wrong.
And now she will my partial power upbraid,
If, alienate from Greece, I give the Trojans aid.
But thou depart, and shun her jealous sight,
The care be mine, to do Pelides right.
Go then, and on the faith of Jove rely,
When nodding to thy suit, he bows the sky.
This ratifies the irrevocable doom:
The sign ordain'd, that what I will shall come:
The stamp of heaven, and seal of fate. He said,
And shook the sacred honours of his head.
With terror trembled heaven's subsiding hill:
And from his shaken curls ambrosial dews distil
But this we can: if Saturn's son bestows
The sack of Troy, which he by promise owes;
Then shall the conquering Greeks thy loss restore,
And with large interest make the advantage more.
To this Atrides answer'd: Though thy boast 196
Assumes the foremost name of all our host,
Pretend not, mighty man, that what is mine,
Controll'd by thee, I tamely should resign.
Shall I release the prize I gain'd by right,
In taken towns, and many a bloody fight,
While thou detain'st Briseis in thy bands,
By priestly glossing on the god's commands?
Resolve on this, (a short alternative)
Quit mine, or, in exchange, another give;
Else I, assure thy soul, by sovereign right
Will seize thy captive in thy own despite ;
Or from stout Ajax, or Ulysses, bear
What other prize my fancy shall prefer.
Then softly murmur, or aloud complain,
Rage as you please, you shall resist in vain.
But more of this, in proper time and place;
To things of greater moment let us pass.
A ship to sail the sacred seas prepare;
Proud in her trim; and put on board the fair, 215
With sacrifice and gifts, and all the pomp of prayer.
The crew well chosen, the command shall be
In Ajax; or if other I decree,
In Creta's king, or Ithacus, or, if I please, in thee:
Most fit thyself to see perform'd the intent
For which my prisoner from my sight is sent;
(Thanks to thy pious care) that Phoebus may relent.
At this, Achilles roll'd his furious eyes,
Fix'd on the king askant; and thus replies:
O impudent, regardful of thy own,
Whose thoughts are centred on thyself alone,
Advanced to sovereign sway for better ends
Than thus like abject slaves to treat thy friends.
What Greek is he, that, urged by thy command,
Against the Trojan troops will lift his hand?
Not I: nor such enforced respect I owe :
Nor Pergamus I hate, nor Priam is my foe.
What wrong, from Troy remote, could I sustain,
To leave my fruitful soil, and happy reign,
And plough the surges of the stormy main?
Thee, frontless man, we follow'd from afar;
Thy instruments of death, and tools of war.
Thine is the triumph; ours the toil alone:
We bear thee on our backs, and mount thee on
the throne.
For thee we fall in fight; for thee redress
Thy baffled brother; not the wrongs of Greece.
And now thou threaten'st, with unjust decree,
To punish thy affronting heaven, on me;
To seize the prize which I so dearly bought,
By common suffrage given, confirm'd by lot.
Mean match to thine: for still above the rest,
Thy hook'd rapacious hands usurp the best;
Though mine are first in fight, to force the prey,
And last sustain the labours of the day.
Thus answer'd stern: Go, at thy pleasure, go:
We need not such a friend, nor fear we such a foe.
There will not want to follow me in fight:
Jove will assist, and Jove assert my right.
But thou of all the kings (his care below)
Art least at my commend, and most my foe.
Debates, dissensions, uproars are thy joy;
Provoked without offence, and practised to destroy.
Strength is of brutes, and not thy boast alone;
At least 'tis lent from heaven; and not thy own.
Fly then, ill-manner'd, to thy native land,
And there thy ant-born Myrmidons command.
But mark this menace; since I must resign
My black-eyed maid, to please the Powers divine;
(A well-rigg'd vessel in the port attends,
Mann'd at my charge, commanded by my friends,)
The ship shall waft her to her wish'd abode,
Full fraught with holy bribes to the far-shooting
This thus dispatch'd, I owe myself the care
My fame and injured honour to repair:
From thy own tent, proud man, in thy despite,
This hand shall ravish thy pretended right.
Briseis shall be mine, and thou shalt see
What odds of awful power I have on thee:
That others at thy cost may learn the difference
of degree.
At this the impatient hero sourly smiled: His heart impetuous in his bosom boil'd, And justled by two tides of equal sway, Stood, for a while, suspended in his way. Betwixt his reason and his rage untamed: One whisper'd soft, and one aloud reclaim'd: That only counsell'd to the safer side; This to the sword his ready hand applied. Unpunish'd to support the affront was hard: Nor easy was the attempt to force the guard. But soon the thirst of vengeance fired his blood: Half shone his falchion, and half sheathed it stood In that nice moment, Pallas, from above, Commission'd by the imperial wife of Jove, Descended swift: (the white-arm'd Queen was loth The fight should follow; for she favour'd both :) Just as in act he stood, in clouds enshrined, Her hand she fasten'd on his hair behind; Then backward by his yellow curls she drew; To him, and him alone confess'd in view. Tamed by superior force, he turn'd his eyes Aghast at first, and stupid with surprise: But by her sparkling eyes, and ardent look, The virgin-warrior known, he thus bespoke: Com'st thou, Celestial, to behold my wrongs! To view the vengeance which to crimes belongs? Thus he. The blue-eyed goddess thus rejoin'd: I come to calm thy turbulence of mind, If reason will resume her sovereign sway, And, sent by Juno, her commands obey. Equal she loves you both, and I protect: Then give thy guardian gods their due respect;" And cease contention; be thy words severe, Sharp as he merits: but the sword forbear. An hour unhoped already wings her way, When he his dire affront shall dearly pay: When the proud king shall sue, with treble gain, To quit thy loss, and conquer thy disdain. But thou, secure of my unfailing word, Compose thy swelling soul, and sheathe the sword. The youth thus answer'd mild: Auspicious Maid,
Heaven's will be mine, aud your commands obey'd
At her departure his disdain return'd: The fire she fann'd, with greater fury burn'd; Rumbling within, till thus it found a vent: Dastard, and drunkard, mean and insolent: Tongue-valiant hero, vaunter of thy might, In threats the foremost, but the lag in fight; When didst thou thrust amid the mingled prease, Content to bide the war aloof in peace? Arms are the trade of each plebeian soul; "Tis death to fight; but kingly to control. Lord-like at ease, with arbitrary power, To peel the chiefs, the people to devour: These, traitor, are thy talents; safer far Than to contend in fields, and toils of war.
Nor could'st thou thus have dared the common hate,
Were not their souls as abject as their state.
But, by this sceptre, solemnly I swear,
(Which never more green leaf or growing branch
shall bear;
Torn from the tree, and given by Jove to those 350
Who laws dispense, and mighty wrongs oppose)
That when the Grecians want my wonted aid,
No gift shall bribe it, and no prayer persuade.
When Hector comes, the homicide, to wield
His conquering arms, with corpse to strow the
field,
Then shalt thou mourn thy pride; and late confess
My wrong repented, when 'tis past redress.
He said and with disdain, in open view,
Against the ground his golden sceptre threw ;
Then sate with boiling rage Atrides burn'd,
And foam betwixt his gnashing grinders churn'd.
But from his seat the Pylian prince arose,
With reasoning mild, their madness to compose:
Words, sweet as honey, from his mouth distill'd;
Two centuries already he fulfill'd,
And now began the third; unbroken yet:
Once famed for courage; still in council great.
What worse, he said, can Argos undergo, What can more gratify the Phrygian foe, Than these distemper'd heats, if both the lights 370 Of Greece their private interest disunites? Believe a friend, with thrice your years increased, And let these youthful passions be repress'd: I flourish'd long before your birth; and then Lived equal with a race of braver men Than these dim eyes shall e'er behold again. Ceneus and Dryas, and, excelling them, Great Theseus, and the force of greater Polypheme. With these I went, a brother of the war, Their dangers to divide; their fame to share. Nor idle stood with unassisting hands, When salvage beasts, and men's more salvage bands, Their virtuous toil subdued: yet those I sway'd, With powerful speech: I spoke, and they obey'd. If such as those my counsels could reclaim, Think not, young warriors, your diminish'd name Shall lose of lustre, by subjecting rage To the cool dictates of experienced age. Thou, king of men, stretch not thy sovereign sway Beyond the bounds free subjects can obey: But let Peides in his prize rejoice, Achieved in arms, allow'd by public voice.
Nor thou, brave champion, with his power contend, Before whose throne ev'n kings their lower'd sceptres bend.
The head of action he, and thou the hand; Matchless thy force, but mightier his command: Thou first, O king, release the rights of sway; Power, self-restrain'd, the people best obey. Sanctions of law from thee derive their source; Command thyself, whom no commands can force, The son of Thetis, rampire of our host,
Is worth our care to keep; nor shall my prayers be lost.
Thus Nestor said, and ceased: Atrides broke
His silence next; but ponder'd ere he spoke :
Wise are thy words, and glad I would obey,
But this proud man affects imperial sway.
Controlling kings, and trampling on our state,
His will is law; and what he wills is fate.
The gods have given him strength: but whence
the style
Of lawless power assumed, or licence to revile?
Achilles cut him short; and thus replied:
My worth, allow'd in words, is in effect denied.
For who but a poltroon, possess'd with fear,
Such haughty insolence can tamely bear?
Command thy slaves: my freeborn soul disdains
A tyrant's curb; and restive breaks the reins. 416
Take this along; that no dispute shall rise
(Though mine the woman) for my ravish'd prize:
But, she excepted, as unworthy strife,
Dare not, I charge thee dare not, on thy life, 420
Touch aught of mine beside, by lot my due,
But stand aloof, and think profane to view:
This fauchion, else, not hitherto withstood,
These hostile fields shall fatten with thy blood.
He said; and rose the first: the council broke;
And all their grave consults dissolved in smoke.
The royal youth retired, on vengeance bent,
Patroclus follow'd silent to his tent.
Meantime, the king with gifts a vessel stores; Supplies the banks with twenty chosen oars: And next, to reconcile the shooter god, Within her hollow sides the sacrifice he stow'd: Chryseis last was set on board; whose hand Ulysses took, intrusted with command: They plough the liquid seas, and leave the lessening land.
Atrides then, his outward zeal to boast, Bade purify the sin-polluted host.
With perfect hecatombs the god they graced;
Whose offer'd entrails in the main were cast.
Black bulls, and bearded goats on altars lie;
And clouds of savoury stench involve the sky.
These pomps the royal hypocrite design'd
For show; but harbour'd vengeance in his mind:
Till holy malice, longing for a vent,
At length discover'd his conceal'd intent.
Talthybius, and Eurybates the just,
Heralds of arms, and ministers of trust,
He call'd, and thus bespoke: Haste hence your
The goddess goes exulting from his sight, And seeks the seas profound; and leaves the realms of light.
He moves into his hall: the Powers resort, Each from his house, to fill the sovereign's court; Nor waiting summons, nor expecting stood, But met with reverence, and received the god. He mounts the throne; and Juno took her place: But sullen discontent sate lowering on her face. 720 With jealous eyes at distance she had seen, Whispering with Jove, the silver-footed Queen; Then, impotent of tongue (her silence broke), Thus turbulent in rattling tone she spoke: Author of ills, and close contriver Jove, Which of thy dames, what prostitute of love, Has held thy ear so long, and begg'd so hard, For some old service done, some new reward? Apart you talk'd, for that's your special care, The consort never must the council share. One gracious word is for a wife too much : Such is a marriage vow, and Jove's own faith is such.
Then thus the Sire of gods, and men below: What I have hidden, hope not thou to know. Ev'n goddesses are women: and no wife Has power to regulate her husband's life: Counsel she may; and I will give thy ear The knowledge first, of what is fit to hear. What I transact with others, or alone, Beware to learn; nor press too near the throne. To whom the goddess with the charming eyes, What hast thou said, O tyrant of the skies! When did I search the secrets of thy reign, Though privileged to know, but privileged in vain? But well thou dost, to hide from common sight Thy close intrigues, too bad to bear the light. 746 Nor doubt I, but the silver-footed dame, Tripping from sea, on such an errand came, To grace her issue, at the Grecians' cost, And for one peevish man destroy an host.
The limping Smith observed the sadden'd feast, And hopping here and there (himself a jest) Put in his word, that neither might offend; To Jove obsequious, yet his mother's friend. What end in heaven will be of civil war, If gods of pleasure will for mortals jar? Such discord but disturbs our jovial feast; One grain of bad embitters all the best. Mother, though wise yourself, my counsel weigh; 'Tis much unsafe my sire to disobey. Not only you provoke him to your cost, But mirth is marr'd, and the good cheer is lost. Tempt not his heavy hand; for he has power To throw you headlong from his heavenly tower. But one submissive word, which you let fall, Will make him in good humour with us all.
He said no more; but crown'd a bowl, unbid: The laughing nectar overlook'd the lid : Then put it to her hand; and thus pursued: This cursed quarrel be no more renew'd.
Be, as becomes a wife, obedient still;
Though grieved, yet subject to her husband's will.
I would not see you beaten; yet afraid
Of Jove's superior force, I dare not aid.
Too well I know him, since that hapless hour
When I and all the gods employ'd our power
To break your bonds: me by the heel he drew,
And o'er heaven's battlements with fury threw :
All day I fell; my flight at morn begun,
And ended not but with the setting sun.
Pitch'd on my head, at length the Lemnian ground
Received my batter'd skull, the Sinthians heal'd
At Vulcan's homely mirth his mother smiled,
And smiling took the cup the clown had fill'd. 01
The reconciler-bowl went round the board,
Which, emptied, the rude skinker still restored.
Loud fits of laughter seized the guests to see
The limping god so deft at his new ministry.
The feast continued till declining light:
They drank, they laugh'd, they loved, and then
'twas night.
Nor wanted tuneful harp, nor vocal quire;
The Muses sung; Apollo touch'd the lyre.
Drunken at last, and drowsy they depart,
Each to his house; adorn'd with labour'd art
Of the lame architect: the thundering gcd
Ev'n he withdrew to rest, and had his load.
His swimming head to needful sleep applied;
And Juno lay unheeded by his side.
Ver. 768. Tke limping Smith] Boileau used to hint, among his intimate friends, that he thought the reason why Homer sometimes introduced his gods and goddesses in scenes of ludicrousness, was to soften the general severity of his poem, and relieve the reader from the perpetual prospect of the slaughters and deaths with which the Iliad abounded. Dr. J. WARTON.
THE LAST PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.
Hector returning from the field of battle, to visit Helen, his sister-in-law, and his brother Paris, who had fought unsuccessfully hand to hand with Menelaus, from thence goes to his own palace to see his wife, Andromache, and his infant son, Astyanax. The description of that interview is the subject of this translation.
THUS having said, brave Hector went to see
His virtuous wife, the fair Andromache.
He found her not at home; for she was gone,
Attended by her maid and infant son,
To climb the steepy tower of Ilion:
From whence, with heavy heart, she might survey
The bloody business of the dreadful day.
Her mournful eyes she cast around the plain,
And sought the lord of her desires in vain.
But he, who thought his peopled palace bare,10
When she, his only comfort, was not there,
Stood in the gate, and ask'd of every one,
Which way she took, and whither she was gone:
If to the court, or, with his mother's train,
In long procession to Minerva's fane?
The servants answer'd, Neither to the court,
Where Priam's sons and daughters did resort,
Nor to the temple was she gone, to move
With prayers the blue-eyed progeny of Jove;
But more solicitous for him alone,
Nor me, the unhappy partner of thy bed; Who must in triumph by the Greeks be led: They seek thy life, and, in unequal fight With many, will oppress thy single might: Better it were for miserable me
To die, before the fate which I foresee.
For ah! what comfort can the world bequeath
To Hector's widow, after Hector's death?
Eternal sorrow and perpetual tears
Began my youth, and will conclude my years :
I have no parents, friends, nor brothers left;
By stern Achilles all of life bereft.
Then when the walls of Thebes he overthrew,
His fatal hand my royal father slew;
He slew Aetion, but despoil'd him not;
Nor in his hate the funeral rites forgot;
Arm'd as he was he sent him whole below,
And reverenced thus the manes of his foe:
A tomb he raised; the mountain nymphs around 70
Inclosed with planted elms the holy ground.
My seven brave brothers in one fatal day
To Death's dark mansions took the mournful way;
Slain by the same Achilles, while they keep
The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep.
My mother, who the royal sceptre sway'd,
Was captive to the cruel victor made,
And hither led; but, hence redeem'd with gold,
Her native country did again behold,
And but beheld: for soon Diana's dart,
In an unhappy chace, transfix'd her heart.
But thou, my Hector, art thyself alone
My parents, brothers, and my lord in one.
Oh, kill not all my kindred o'er again,
Nor tempt the dangers of the dusty plain;
But in this tower, for our defence, remain.
Thy wife and son are in thy ruin lost;
This is a husband's and a father's post.
The Scaan gate commands the plains below;
Here marshal all thy soldiers as they go;
And hence with other hands repel the foe.
By yon wild fig-tree lies their chief ascent,
And thither all their powers are daily bent;
The two Ajaces have I often seen,
And the wrong'd husband of the Spartan queen:
With him his greater brother; and with these
Fierce Diomede and bold Meriones:
Uncertain if by augury or chance,
But by this easy rise they all advance;
Guard well that pass, secure of all beside.
To whom the noble Hector thus replied:
That and the rest are in my daily care;
But, should I shun the dangers of the war,
With scorn the Trojans would reward my pains,
And their proud ladies with their sweeping trains.
The Grecian swords and lances I can bear;
But loss of honour is my only fear.
Shall Hector, born to war, his birthright yield,
Belie his courage, and forsake the field?
Early in rugged arms I took delight,
And still have been the foremost in the fight:
Ver. 82. But thou,] In the interview between Hector and Andromache, both Pope and Dryden have omitted an epithet which they, perhaps, looked on as otiosum epitheton. I will cite the Greek passage:
Αλλ' Εκτος σύ μοι ἐσσὶ πατὴς, καὶ πότνια μήτης,
Ἠδὲ κασίγνητος, σὺ δέ μοι θαλερὸς παρακοίτης.
The epithet aλigos is here a term of affection and endearment, and heightens the pathos: it is not, as many Homeric epithets are, general, but is designed to mark strongly the wife's affection for her blooming and youthful husband. JOHN WARTON.
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