Nor wanted tuneful harp, nor vocal quire;
The Muses fung; Apollo touch'd the lyre.
Drunken at last, and drowfy they depart,
Each to his house; adorn'd with labour'd art
Of the lame architect: the thund'ring God
Ev'n he withdrew to rest, and had his load.
His swimming head to needful fleep apply'd;
And Juno lay unheeded by his fide.

HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.

From the Sixth Book of the ILIA D.

THE ARGUMENT.

Hector, returning from the field of battle, to visit Helen his fifter-in-law, and his brother Paris, who had fought unsuccessfully hand to hand with Menelaus, from thence goes to his own palace to fee bis wife Andromache, and his infant fon Aftyanax. The description of that interview is the fubject of this translation.

HUS having faid, brave Hector went to see

ΤΗ
THUS having faid, brave hire for went to

His virtuous wife, the fair Andromache.

He found her not at home; for she was gone,
Attended by her maid and infant fon,

To climb the steepy tow'r of Ilion:

From whence, with heavy heart, fhe might furvey
The bloody bufinefs of the dreadful day.
Her mournful eyes fhe caft around the plain,
And fought the lord of her defires in vain.

But he, who thought his peopled palace bare,
When the, his only comfort, was not there,
Stood in the gate, and ask'd of ev'ry one,
Which way she took, and whither she was gone;

If to the court, or, with his mother's train,
In long proceffion to Minerva's fane?
The fervants anfwer'd, Neither to the court,
Where Priam's fons and daughters did resort,
Nor to the temple was fhe gone, to move
With prayers the blue-ey'd progeny of Jove;
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 fhe pafs'd, with fear and fury wild;
The nurse went lagging after with the child.

This heard, the noble Hector made no stay; Th' admiring throng divide, to give him way; He pafs'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 crown,
And, in herself, a greater dow'r alone:
Aetion's heir, who on the woody plain
Of Hippoplacus did in Thebe reign.

Breathlefs fhe flew, with joy and paffion wild;
The nurse came lagging after with her child.
The royal babe upon her breaft was laid;

Who, like the morning star, his beams display'd.

Scamandrius was his name, which Hector gave,
From that fair flood which Ilion's wall did lave:
But him Aftyanax the Trojans call,
From his great father, who defends the wall.
Hector beheld him with a filent smile;

His tender wife stood weeping by the while:
Prefs'd in her own, his warlike hand fhe took,
Then figh'd, and thus prophetically spoke.

Thy dauntless heart (which I forefee 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'st behind;
Nor me, th' 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 opprefs thy fingle might:
Better it were for miferable me

To die, before the fate which I forefee.
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 Thebes he overthrew,

His fatal hand my royal father flew;

He flew Action, 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 seven brave brothers in one fatal day

To death's dark mansions took the mournful way;
Slain by the fame Achilles, while they keep
The bellowing oxen and the bleating sheep.
My mother, who the royal fceptre 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 thyfelf alone
My parents, brothers, and my lord in one:
O kill not all my kindred o'er again,

Nor tempt the dangers of the dusty plain;
But in this tow'r, for our defence, remain.
Thy wife and fon are in thy ruin lost ;
This is a husband's and a father's poft.
The Scaan gate commands the plains below;
Here marshal all thy foldiers as they go;
And hence with other hands repel the foe.