The gods having left the field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the chief augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the city, in order to appoint a solemn procession of the queen and the Trojan matrons to the temple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. The battle relaxing during the absence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have an interview between the two armies; where, coming to the knowledge, of the friendship and hospitality passed between their ancestors, they make exchange of their arms. Hector, having performed the orders of Helenus, prevails upon Paris to return to the battle, and, taking a tender leave of his wife Andromache, hastens again to the field.
The scene is first in the field of battle, between the rivers Simois and Scamander, and then changes to Troy.
Now heaven forsakes the fight: the immortals yield
To human force and human skill the field:
Dark showers of javelins fly from foes to foes;
Now here, now there, the tide of combat flows;
While Troy’s famed streams, that bound the deathful plain
On either side, run purple to the main.
Great Ajax first to conquest led the way,
Broke the thick ranks, and turn’d the doubtful day.
The Thracian Acamas his falchion found,
And hew’d the enormous giant to the ground;
His thundering arm a deadly stroke impress’d
Where the black horse-hair nodded o’er his crest;
Fix’d in his front the brazen weapon lies,
And seals in endless shades his swimming eyes.
Next Teuthras’ son distain’d the sands with blood,
Axylus, hospitable, rich, and good:
In fair Arisbe’s walls (his native place)161
He held his seat! a friend to human race.
Fast by the road, his ever-open door
Obliged the wealthy, and relieved the poor.
To stern Tydides now he falls a prey,
No friend to guard him in the dreadful day!
Breathless the good man fell, and by his side
His faithful servant, old Calesius died.
By great Euryalus was Dresus slain,
And next he laid Opheltius on the plain.
Two twins were near, bold, beautiful, and young,
From a fair naiad and Bucolion sprung:
(Laomedon’s white flocks Bucolion fed,
That monarch’s first-born by a foreign bed;
In secret woods he won the naiad’s grace,
And two fair infants crown’d his strong embrace:)
Here dead they lay in all their youthful charms;
The ruthless victor stripp’d their shining arms.
Astyalus by Polypoetes fell;
Ulysses’ spear Pidytes sent to hell;
By Teucer’s shaft brave Aretaon bled,
And Nestor’s son laid stern Ablerus dead;
Great Agamemnon, leader of the brave,
The mortal wound of rich Elatus gave,
Who held in Pedasus his proud abode,162
And till’d the banks where silver Satnio flow’d.
Melanthius by Eurypylus was slain;
And Phylacus from Leitus flies in vain.
Unbless’d Adrastus next at mercy lies
Beneath the Spartan spear, a living prize.
Scared with the din and tumult of the fight,
His headlong steeds, precipitate in flight,
Rush’d on a tamarisk’s strong trunk, and broke
The shatter’d chariot from the crooked yoke;
Wide o’er the field, resistless as the wind,
For Troy they fly, and leave their lord behind.
Prone on his face he sinks beside the wheel:
Atrides o’er him shakes his vengeful steel;
The fallen chief in suppliant posture press’d
The victor’s knees, and thus his prayer address’d:
“O spare my youth, and for the life I owe
Large gifts of price my father shall bestow.
When fame shall tell, that, not in battle slain,
Thy hollow ships his captive son detain:
Rich heaps of brass shall in thy tent be told,163
And steel well-temper’d, and persuasive gold.”
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!164
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;165
A dreadful lesson of exampled fate,
To warn the nations, and to curb the great!”
The monarch spoke; the words, with warmth 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 had 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 flight,
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 our 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;166
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 labour’d o’er with gold,
Before the goddess’ honour’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 matrons’ holy train,
And reverend elders, seek the gods in vain.”
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),167
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 immortals’ wrath to move;
(The immortals bless’d with endless ease above;)
Deprived of sight by their avenging doom,
Cheerless he breathed, and wander’d 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 is 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 flourish 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,)
Aeolian Sisyphus, with wisdom bless’d,
In ancient time the happy wall possess’d,
Then call’d Ephyre: Glaucus was his son;
Great Glaucus, father of Bellerophon,
Who o’er the sons of men in beauty shined,
Loved for that valour which preserves mankind.
Then mighty Praetus 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 Antaea 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.