But more folicitous for him alone,
Than all their fafety, to the tow'r was gone,
There to furvey the labours of the field,
Where the Greeks conquer, and the Trojans yield;
Swiftly the pafs'd, with fear and fury wild,
The nurse went lagging after with the child.
This heard, the noble Hector made no ftay ;
Th' admiring throng divide, to give him way;
He pass'd thro every ftreet, by which' he came,'
And at the gate he met the mournful dame:
His wife beheld him, and with eager pace
Flew to his arms, to meet a dear embrace :
His wife, who brought in dow'r Cilicia's crowny
And, in herfelf, a greater dow'r alone:
Aetion's heir, who on the woody plain
Of Hippoplacus did in Thebe reign.
Breathless the flew, with joy and paffion wild s
The nurse came lagging after with her child.
The royal babe upon her breaft was laid ;
Who, like the morning fear, his beams difplay'd
Scamandrius was his name, which Hector gave
From that fair flood which Ilion's wall did lave i
But him Aftyanax the Trojans call,
From his great father, who defends the wall.
Hector beheld him with a filent fmile;
His tender wife ftood weeping by the while
Prefs'd in her own, his warlike hand fhe took,
Then figh'd, and thus prophetically fpoke.
Thy dauntless heart (which I foresee too late)
Too daring man, will urge thee to thy fate :
Nor doft thou pity, with a parent's mind,
This helpless orphan, whom thou leav'At behind
Nor me, th' unhappy partner of thy bed
Who must in triumph by the Greeks be led
They feek thy life, and, in unequal fight
With many, will opprefs thy fingle might
Better it were for miferable 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 forrow and perpetual tears
Began my youth, and will conclude my years
I have no parents, friends, nor brothers left;
By ftern Achilles all of life bereft.
Then when the walls of Thèbes he overthrew
His fatal hand my royal father flew ;
He flew Aetion, but defpoil'd him not;
Nor in his hate the funeral rites forgot;
Arm'd as he was he fent him whole below,
And reverenc'd thus the manes of his foe:
A tomb he rais'd; the mountain nymphs around
Inclos'd with planted elms the holy ground.
My feven brave brothers in one fatal day
To death's dark manfions took the mournful way
Slain by the fame Achilles, while they keep
The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep.
My mother, who the royal fcepter fway'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 foon Diana's dart
In an unhappy chace transfix'd her heart.
But thou, my Hector, art thyfélf alone
My parents, brothers, and my lord in one:
O kill not all my kindred o'er again,
Nor tempt the dangers of the duffy plain;
But in this tow'r, for our defence, remain,
Thy wife and fon are in thy rain loft:
This is a husband's and a father's poft..
The Scean gate commands the plains below;
Here marshal all thy foldiers as they go;
And hence with other hands repel the foe.
By yon wild fig-tree lies their chief ascent,
And thither all their pow'rs are daily bent:
The two Ajaces have I often feen,
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 eafy rife they all advance;
Guard well that pafs, fecure of all befides
To whom the noble Hector thus reply'd.
That and the reft are in my daily care j'
But fhould I fhun the dangers of the war,
With fcorn the Trojans would reward my pains,
And their prou'd ladies with their fweeping trains
The Grecan fwords and lances I can bear:
But lofs of honour is my only fear.
Shall Hector, born to war, his birth-right yield,
Belye his courage, and forfake the field?
Early in rugged arms I took delight,
And still have been the foremost in the fight:
With dangers dearly have I bought renown,
And am the champion of my father's crown.
And yet my mind forebodes, with fure prefage,
That Troy fhall perish by the Grecian rage.
The fatal day draws on, when I muft fall;
And univerfal ruin cover all.
Not Troy itself, tho' built by hands divine,
Nor Priam, nor his people, nor his line,
My mother, nor my brothers of renown,
Whofe valour yet defends th' unhappy towns
Not these, nor all their fates which I forefee,
Are half of that concern I have for thee.
I fee, I fee thee, in that fatal hour,
Subjected to the victor's cruel pow'r ;
Led hence a flave to fome infulting fword,
Forlorn, and trembling at a foreign lord;
A fpectacle in Argos, at the loom,
Gracing with Trojan fights a Grecian room;
Or from deep wells the living ftream to take,
And on thy weary fhoulders bring it back.
While, groaning under this laborious life,
They infolently call thee Hector's wife;
Upbraid thy bondage with thy husband's name;
And from my glory propagate thy fhame,
This when they fay, thy forrows will increase
With anxious thoughts of former happiness;
That he is dead who could thy wrongs redrefs.
But I, opprefs'd with iron fleep before,
Shall hear thy unavailing crie's no more.
Then, holding forth his arms, he took his boy,
The pledge of love and other hope of Troy.
The fearful infant turn'd his head away,
And on his nurfe's neck reclining lay,
His unknown father fhunning with affright,
And looking back on fo uncouth a fight;
Daunted to fee a face with fleel o'er-fpread,
And his high plume that nodded o'er his head.
His fire and mother fmil'd with filent joy;
And Hector haften'd to relieve his boy;
Difmifs'd his burnish'd helm, that fhone afar,
The pride of warriors, and the pomp of war:
Th'illuftrious babe, thus reconcil'd, he took:
Hugg'd in his arms, and kifs'd, and thus he fpoke
Parent of Gods and Men, propitious Jove,
And you bright fynod of the Pow'rs above;
On this my fon your gracious gifts bestow;
Grant him to live, and great in arms to grow,
To reign in Troy, to govern with renown,
To fhield the people, and affert the crown:
That, when hereafter he from war fhall come,
And bring his Trojans peace and triumph home,
Some aged man, who lives this act to see,
And who in former times remember'd me,
May fay, the fon in fortitude and fame
Outgoes the mark, and drowns his father's name:
That at these words his mother may rejoice,
And add her fuffrage to the public voice.
He first with fuppliant hands the Gods ador'd:
Then to the mother's arms the child restor'd;
With tears and fmiles she took her son, and prefs'd
Th' illuftrious infant to her fragrant breast.
He, wiping her fair eyes, indulg'd her grief,
And eas'd her forrows with this laft relief,
My wife and miftrefs, drive thy fears away,
Nor give fo bad an omen to the day;
Think not it lies in any Grecian's power,
To take my life before the fatal hour.
When that arrives, nor good nor bad can fly
Th' irrevocable doom of deftiny.
Return, and, to divert thy thoughts at home,
There task thy maids, and exercise the loom,
Employ'd in works that womankind become!
The toils of war, and feats of chivalry
Belong to men, and most of all to me.
At this, for new replies he did not ftay,
But lac'd his crefted helm, and frode away.
His lovely confort to her house return'd,
And looking often back in filence mourn'd:
Home when she came, her fecret woe fhe vents,
And fills the palace with her loud laments;
Thofe loud laments her echoing maids restore,
And Hector, yet alive, as dead deplore.
The End of the FOURTH VOLUME.
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