So, scorch'd with heat, along the desert shore, The roaming lion meets a bristly boar, Fast by the spring; they both dispute the flood. With flaming eyes and jaws besmear'd with blood; At length the sov'reign savage wins the strife, And the torn boar resigns his thirst and life. Patroclus thus, so many Chiefs o'erthrown, So many lives effused, expires his own. 1000 As dying now at Hector's feet he lies, He steruly views him, and triumphing cries: 'Lie there, Patroclus! and with thee the joy, Thy pride once promis'd, of subverting Troy; The fancied scenes of Ilion wrapp'd in flames, And thy soft pleasures serv'd with captive dames! Unthinking man! I fought those towers to free, And guard that beauteous race from lords like thee: But thou a prey to vultures shalt be made; Thy own Achilles cannot lend thee aid; 1010 Tho' much at parting that great Chief might say, And much enjoin thee, this important day: "Return not, my brave friend" (perhaps he said), "Without the bloody arms of Hector dead." He spoke, Patroclus march'd, and thus he sped.' Supine, and wildly gazing on the skies, With faint expiring breath, the Chief replies: Vain Boaster! cease, and know the Powers divine: Jove's and Apollo's is this deed, not thine; To Heav'n is owed whate'er your own you call, 1020 And Heav'n itself disarm'd me ere my fall. Had twenty mortals, each thy match in might, Opposed me fairly, they had sunk in fight: By Fate and Phoebus was I first o'erthrown, Euphorbus next; the third mean part thy own. But thou, Imperious! hear my latest breath; The Gods inspire it, and it sounds thy death. way (The beauteous body left a load of clay), Flits to the lone, uncomfortable coast; A naked, wand'ring, melancholy ghost! Then Hector pausing, as his eyes he fed On the pale carcass, thus address'd the dead: 'From whence this boding speech, the stern decree Of death denounc'd, or why denounc'd to me? Why not as well Achilles' fate be giv❜n 1940 To Hector's lance? who knows the will of Heav'n?' Pensive he said: then, pressing as he lay His breathless bosom, tore the lance away, And upwards cast the corse: the reeking spear He shakes, and charges the bold charioteer. But swift Automedon with loosen'd reins, Rapt in the chariot o'er the distant plains, Far from his rage th' immortal coursers drove; Th' immortal coursers were the gift of Jove. BOOK XVII THE SEVENTH BATTLE, FOR THE BODY OF PATROCLUS. THE ACTS OF MENELAUS THE ARGUMENT Menelaus. upon the death of Patroclus, defends his body from the enemy: Euphorbus, who attempts it, is slain. Hector advancing. Menelaus retires; but soon returns with Ajax, and drives him off. This Glaucus objects to Hector as a flight, who thereupon puts on the armour he had won from Patro clus, and renews the battle. The Greeks give way, till Ajax rallies them: Æneas sustains the Trojans. Æneas and Hector attempt the chariot of Achilles, which is borns off by Automedon. The horses of Achilles deplore the loss of Patroclus; Jupiter covers his body with a thick darkness: the noble prayer of Ajax on that occasion. Menelaus sends Antilochus to Achilles, with the news plain, Slain in my cause, and for my honour slain; Desert the arms, the relics of my friend? Or singly Hector and his troops attend? Sure, where such partial favour Heav'n bestow'd, To brave the Hero were to brave the God: Forgive me, Greece, if once I quit the field; 'Tis not to Hector, but to Heav'n, I yield. Yet, nor the God nor Heav'n should give me fear, Did but the voice of Ajax reach my ear: 119 Still would we turn, still battle on the plains, And give Achilles all that yet remains A sable scene! The terrors Hector led; He flies indeed, but threatens 119 |