Each Greek was an Ulyffes; fuch a dread 135 Th' approach, and ev'n the found of Hector
Him, flesh'd with flaughter, and with conqueft crown'd,
I met, and over-turn'd him to the ground.
When after, matchlefs as he deem'd in might,
He challeng'd all our hoft to fingle fight,
All eyes were fix'd on me : the lots were thrown;
But for your champion I was wifh'd alone:
Your vows were heard, we fought, and neither
yield;
Yet I return'd unvanquish'd from the field.
With Jove to friend th' infulting Trojan came,
And menac'd us with force, our fleet with
flame:
Was it the ftrength of this tongue-valiant lord, In that black hour, that fav'd you from the fword;
Or was my breaft expos'd alone, to brave
A thoufand fwords, a thousand ships to fave? 150
The hopes of your return! and can you yield,
For a fav'd fleet, lefs than a fingle shield?
Think it no boaft, O Grecians, if I deem
These arms want Ajax, more than Ajax them;
Or, I with them an equal honour share ;
They honour'd to be worn, and I to wear.
Will he compare my courage with his flight?
As well he may compare the day with night,
Night is indeed the province of his reign:
Yet all his dark exploits no more contain 160
Than a spy taken, and a fleeper flain ;
A priest made pris'ner, Pallas made a prey :
But none of all these actions done by day:
Nor ought of thefe was done, and Diomede
away.
If on fuch petty merits you confer
So vaft a prize, let each his portion share;
Make a juft dividend: and if not all,
The greater part to Diomede will fall.
But why for Ithacus fuch arms as those,
Who naked and by night invades his foes?
The glittering helm by moonlight will proclaim
The latent robber, and prevent his game:
Nor could he hold his tott'ring head upright
Beneath that motion, or sustain the weight; 174
Nor that right arm could tofs the beamy lance;
Much less the left that ampler shield advance;
Pond'rous with precious weight, and rough with
coft
Of the round world in rifing gold emboss'd.
That orb would ill become his hand to wield,
And look as for the gold he ftole the fhield; 180
Which should your error on the wretch beftow,
It would not frighten, but allure the foe:
Why afks he what avails him not in fight,
And would but cumber and retard his flight,
In which his only excellence is plac'd?
You give him death, that intercept his haste.
Add, that his own is yet a maiden-thield,
Nor the least dint has fuffer'd in the field,
Guiltlefs of fight: mine batter'd, hew'd, and
bor'd,
Worn out of fervice, muft forfake his lord. What farther need of words our right to scan? My arguments are deeds, let action speak the
Since from a champion's arms the ftrife arose,
So caft the glorious prize amid the foes;
Then fend us to redeem both arms and shield,
And let him wear who wins 'em in the field. 196
He faid: a murmur from the multitude,
Or fomewhat like a ftifled fhout, enfu'd:
Till from his feat arofe Laertes' fon,
Look'd down awhile, and paus'd ere he begun;
Then to the expecting audience rais'd his look,
And not without prepar'd attention spoke: 202
Soft was his tone, and fober was his face;
Action his words, and words his action grace.
If heaven, my lords, had heard our common
pray'r, These arms had caus'd no quarrel for an heir; Still great Achilles had his own poffefs'd, And we with great Achilles had been blefs'd. But fince hard fate, and heaven's fevere decree, Have ravifh'd him away from you and me, 210
(At this he figh'd, and wip'd his
eyes, and drew, Or feem'd to draw, fome drops of kindly dew)
Who better can fucceed Achilles loft,
gave Achilles to your hoft? This only I requeft, that neither he May gain, by being what he seems to be, A ftupid thing, nor I may lofe the prize, By having fenfe, which heav'n to him denies: Since, great or small, the talent I enjoy'd Was ever in the common caufe employ'd: Nor let my wit, and wonted eloquence, Which often has been us'd in your defence And in my own, this only time be brought To bear against myself, and deem'd a fault. Make not a crime, where nature made it none; For every man may freely use his own.
The deeds of long defcended ancestors
Are but by grace of imputation ours,
Theirs in effect: but fince he draws his line
From Jove, and feems to plead a right divine;
From Jove, like him, I claim my pedigree, 231
And am defcended in the fame degree;
My fire Laertes was Arcefius' heir,
Arcefius was the fon of Jupiter:
No paricide, no banish'd man, is known
In all my line: let him excufe his own.
Hermes ennobles too my mother's fide,
By both my parents to the gods ally'd ;
But not because that on the female part
My blood is better, dare I claim defert,
Or that my fire from paricide is free,
But judge by merit betwixt him and me :
The prize be to the beft; provided yet,
That Ajax for a while his kin forget,
And his great fire, and greater uncle's name, 245 To fortify by them his feeble claim:
Be kindred and relation laid afide,
And honour's cause by laws of honour try'd:
For, if he plead proximity of blood,
That empty title is with eafe withstood.
Peleus, the hero's fire, more nigh than he,
And Pyrrhus his undoubted progeny,
Inherit first thefe trophies of the field;
To Scyros, or to Phthia, fend the shield;
And Teucer has an uncle's right; yet he
Waves his pretenfions, nor contends with me.
Then, fince the caufe on pure defert is plac'd, Whence fhall I take my rife, what reckon last? I not prefume on every act to dwell,
But take these few, in order as they fell. 260
Thetis, who knew the fates, apply'd her care,
To keep Achilles in difguife from war;
And till the threatning influence were past,
A woman's habit on the hero caft:
eyes were cozen'd by the borrow'd veft, 265 And Ajax (never wifer than the reft)
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