Sought her own palace, and indulg'd her woe.
There, while her tears deplor'd the god-like man,
Through all her train the foft infection ran, 645
The pious maids their mingled forrows shed,
And mourn the living Hector, as the dead.
But now, no longer deaf to honour's call,
Forth ifsues Paris from the palace wall.
In brazen arms that caft a gleamy ray,
650
Swift through the town the warriour bends his

way.

The wanton courser thus, with reins unbound, Breaks from his stall, and beats the trembling

ground;

Pamper'd and prond, he seeks the wonted tides, And laves, in height of blood, his shining fides;

655

His head now freed, he toffes to the skies;
His mane dishevell'd o'er his shoulders flies;
He snuffs the females in the diftant plain,
And fprings, exulting, to his fields again.
With equal triumph, sprightly, bold, and gay,

660

665

In arms refulgent as the God of day,
The fon of Priam, glorying in his might,
Rufh'd forth with Hector to the fields of fight.
And now, the warriours paffing on the way,
The graceful Paris first excus'd his stay.
To whom the noble Hector thus reply'd :
O chief! in blood, and now in arms, ally'd!
Thy power in war with justice none conteft;
Known is thy courage, and thy strength confeft.
What pity floth should feize a foul fo brave, 670
Or god-like Paris live a woman's flave!
My heart weeps blood at what the Trojans say,
And hopes, thy deeds that wipe the ftain away.
Hafte then, in all their glorious labours share;
For much they fuffer, for thy fake, in war. 675

625

No hoftile hand can antedate my door, Till fate condemns me to the filent tomb. Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth;

And fuch the hard condition of our birth,

All fink alike, the fearful and the brave.

No more-but haften to thy tasks at home,

We crown the bowl to Heaven and Liberty: While the proud foe his fruftrate triumphs mourns,

There guide the spindle, and direct the loom;

And Greece indignant through her feas returns.

Oh! would to all th' immortal powers above,
Minerva, Phœbus, and almighty Jove!
160
Years might again roll back, my youth renew,
And give this arm the spring which once it knew:
When, fierce in war, where Jordan's waters fall
I led my troops to Phea's trembling wall,
And with th' Arcadian spears my prowess try'd,

Old Neftor shook the casque. By heaven infpir'd,

225

Leap'd forth the lot, of every Greek defir'd. 220
This from the right to left the herald bears,
Held out in order to the Grecian peers;
Each to his rival yields the mark unknown,
Till god-like Ajax finds the lot his own;
Surveys th' infcription with rejoicing eyes,
Then cafts before him, and with transport cries :
Warriors! I claim the lot, and arm with joy;
Be mine the conquest of this chief of Troy.
Now while my brightest arms my limbs invest,
To Saturn's ton be all your vows addrest:
But pray in fecret, left the foes should hear,
And deem your prayers the mean effects of fear.
Said I in fecret? No, your vows declare,
In fuch a voice as fills the earth and air.
Lives the e a chief whom Ajax ought to dread,

230

165

Where Celadon rolls down his rapid tide.
There Ereuthalion brav'd us in the field,
Proud, Areïthous' dreadful arms to wield;
Great Areïthous, known from fhore to fhore
By the huge, knotted, iron mace he bore; 170
No lance he shook, nor bent the twanging bow,
But broke, with this, the battle of the foe.
Him not by manly force Lycurgus flew,
Whose guileful javelin from the thicket flew,
Deep in a winding way his breast affail'd,
Nor aught the warriour's thundering mace a-
vail'd.

175

Supine he fell: those arms which Mars before
Had given the vanquish'd, now the victor bore:
But when old age had dimm'd Lycurgus' eyes,
To Ereuthalion he confign'd the prize.
180
Furious with this, he crush'd our level'd bands,
And dar'd the trial of the strongest hands;
Nor could the strongest hands his fury stay;
All faw, and fear'd, his huge tempestuous sway.
Till I, the youngest of the hoft appear'd,
185
And, youngest, met whom all our army fear'd.
I fought the chief: my arms Minerva crown'd:
Prone feil the giant o'er a length of ground.
What then he was, Oh were you Neftor now!
Not Hector's felf should want an equal foe. 190
But, warriours, you, that youthful vigour boast,
The flower of Greece, th' examples of our hoft,
Sprung from fuch fathers, who such numbers
fwav,

Can you stand trembling, and defert the day? His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame;

He moves to combat with majestic pace;
So stalks in arms the grizly God of Thrace,
When Jove to punish faithless men prepares
And gives whole nations to the waste of wars.
Thus march'd the chief, tremendous as a God :

His country's fame, his own immortal praise. 210 The lots produc'd, each hero figns his own; Then in the general's helm the fates are thrown; The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands, And vows like these ascend from all the bands: Grant, thou Almighty! in whose hand is fate,

215

A worthy champion for the Grecian state.

foe.

This tafk let Ajax or Tydides prove,

Or he, the king of kings, belov'd by Jove!

Achilles thuns the fight; yet some there are, 275 Not void of foul, and not unskill'd in wars

280

But then by heralds' voice the word was given,
The facred minifters of earth and heaven:
Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ,
And fage Idæus on the part of Troy,
Between the swords their peaceful fceptresrear'd;

335

Let him, unactive on the fea-beat shore,
Indulge bis wrath, and aid our arms no more :
Whole troops of heroes Greece has yet to boaft,
And fends thee one, a fample of her hoft,
Such as I am, I come to prove thy might;
No more be fudden, and begin the fight.
O fon of Telamon, thy country's pride!

And first Idæus' awful voice was heard:
Forbear, my fons! your farther force to prove,

New to the field, and trembling at the fight?
Thou meet'it a chief deserving of thy arms,
To conibat born, and bred amidst alarms:
I know to fhift my ground, remount the car,
Turn, charge, and answer every call of war;

To either hoft your matchless worth is known, Each founds your praise, and war is all your own.

340

290

To right, to left, the dexterous lance I wield,
And bear thick battle on my founding shield.
But open be our fight, and bo'd each blow;
I fteal no conqueft from a noble foe.

He faid; and, rifing high above the field, 295 Whirl'd the long lance against the sevenfold mield.

Full on the brafs defcending from above
Through fix bull-hides the furious weapon drove,
Till in the feventh it fix'd. Then Ajax threw;
Through Hector's shield the forceful javelin flew,

300
His corflet enters, and his garment rends,
And glancing downwards near his frank defcends.
The wary Trojan shrinks, and, bending low
Beneath his buckler, disappoints the blow.

From their bor'd fhields the chiefs theirs javelins drew,

But now the night extends her awful shade; The Goddess parts you: be the night obey'd. To whom great Ajax his high foul express'd: "O Sage! to Hector be these words address'd; "Let him who firft provok'd our chiefs to fight,

345

Let him demand the fanction of the night;
If first he ask it, I content obey,
And ceafe the strife when Hector shows the way."

Oh firit of Greeks! (his noble foe rejoin'd) Whom heaven adorns, fuperior to thy kind, 350 With ftrength of body, and with worth of mind!

355

Now martial law commands us to forbear;
Hereafter we shall mest in glorious war,
Some future day shall lengthen out our ftrife,
And let the Gods decide of death or life!
Since then the night extends her gloomy shade,
And Heaven enjoins it, be the night obey'd.
Return, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian friends,
And joy the nations whom thy arm defends;
As I shall glad each chief, and Trojan wife, 360
Who wearies Heaven with vows for Hector's life.
But let us, on this memorable day,
Exchange some gift; that Greece and Troy may

Then close impetuous, and the charge renew:
Fierce as the mountain-lions bath'd in blood,
Or foaming boars, the terrour of the wood.
At Ajax, Hector his long lance extends;
The blunted point against the bucklerbends: 310
But Ajax, watchful as his foe drew near,
Drove through the Trojan targe the knotty fpear;
It reach'd his neck, with matchless strength im-

pell'd;

"And each brave foe was in his foul a friend." 365

Spouts the black gore, and dims his shining fhield.

Yet ceas'd not Hector thus; but, stooping down, 315

A radiant belt that rich with purple glow'd. Then with majestick grace they quit the plain;

370

This feeks the Grecian, that the Phrygian train, The Trojan bands returning Hector wait, T

With force tempestuous let the ruin fly: The huge stone thundering through his buckler broke:

And hail with joy the champion of their state: Efcap'd great Ajax,, they furvey'd him round, Alive, unharım'd, and vigorous from his wound.

375

To Troy's high gates the god-like man they bear,
Their present triumph, as their late defpair.
But Ajax, glo ying in his hardy deed,
The well-arm'd Greeks to Agamemnon lead.
A fteer for facrifice the king defign'd,
Of full five years, and of the nobler kind.

The victim falls; they strip the smoking hide,
The beaft they quarter, and the joints divide;
Then fpread thetables, and repast prepare,
Each takes his feat, and each receives his share.
385