Ye kings and warriours! may your vows be crown'd,

And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground;
May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore
But oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain,

And give Chryfe is to thefe arms again;

If mercy fail, yet let my prefents move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, fon of Jove.

The Creeks in fhouts their joint affent declare,
The priest to reverence, and release the fair.
Not fo Atrides: he, with kingly pride,
Repuls'd the facred fire, and thus reply'd:

25

30

Hence, on thy life, and fly those hoftile plains, 35
Nor afk, prefumptuous, what the king detains;
Hence, with tny laurel crown, and golden rod,
Nor truft too far those ensigns of thy God.
Mine is thy daughter, priest, and shall remain ;
And prayers, and tears, and brib s, shall plead in
vain;

Till time fhall rifle every youthful grace,
And age difmifs her from my cold embrace,
In daily labours of the loom employ'd,
Or doom'a to deck the bed the once enjoy'd.
Hence then, to Argos fhall the maid retire,
Far from her native foil, and weeping fire.

45

The trembling prieft along the shore return'd, And in the anguish of a father mourn'd. Difconfolate, not daring to complain, Silent he wander'd by the founding main : Till, fafe at diftance, to his God he prays, The God who darts around the world his rays. O Smintheus! fprung from fair Latona's line, Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine, Thou fource of light! whom Tenedos adores, And whofe bright prefence gilds thy Chryfa's fhores; If e'er with wreaths I hung thy facred fane, Or fed the flames with fat of oxen flain; God of the filver bow! thy fhafts employ, Avenge thy fervant, and the Greeks deftroy.

55

60

Thus Chryfes pray'd: The favouring power attends

And from Olympus' lofty tops defcends.
Bent was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound;
Fierce as he mov'd, his filver shafts refound;
Breathing revenge, a fudden night he spread,
And gloomy darkness roll'd about his head.
The fleet in view, he twang'd his deadly bow,
And hiffing fly the feather'd fates below.
On mules and dogs th' infection first began ;
And last, the vengeful arrows fix`d in man.
For nine long nights through all the dusky air
The pyres thick flaming thot a difinal glare.
Bu ere the tenth revolving day was run,
Infpir'd by Juno, Thetis' god-like fon
Conven'd to council all the Grecian train:
For much the Goddess mourn'd her heroes flain.
Th' affembly feated, rifing o'er the reft,

Achilles thus the king of men addrest:

Why leave we not the fatal Trojan fhore, And measure back the feas we croft before?

The plague destroying whom the fword would spare,

'Tis time to fave the few remains of war.
But let fome prophet, or some sacred sage,
Explore the cause of great Apollo's rage;
Or learn the wafteful vengeance to remove,
By myftic dreams, for dreams defcend from Jove.
If broken vows this heavy curse have laid,
Let altars smoke, and hecatombs be paid.
So heaven aton'd fhall dying Greece restore,
And Phoebus dart his burning fhafts no more.

He faid, and fat: when Chalcas thus repli'd:
Chalcas the wife, the Grecian priest and guide,
That facred feer, whofe comprehensive view
The past, the present, and the future knew:
Uprifing flow, the venerable fage

Thus fpoke the prudence and the fears of age.

85

90

95

115

120

To whom thy hands the vows of Greece convey, 110
And whose bleft oracles thy lips declare;
Long as Achilles breathes this vital air,
No daring Greek of all the numerous band
Against his priest shall lift an impious hand:
Not ev'n the chief by whom our hosts are led,
The king of kings, shall touch that facred head.
Encourag'd thus, the blameless man replies;
Nor vows unpaid, nor flighted facrifice,
But he, our chief, provok'd the raging peft,
Apollo's vengeance for his injur'd priest,
Nor will the God's awaken'd fury ceafe,
But plagues fhall spread, and funeral fires increase,
Till the great king, without a ransom paid,
To her own Chrysa send the black-ey'd maid.
Perhaps, with added facrifice and prayer,
The priest may pardon, and the God may spare.
The prophet fpoke; when with a gloomy frown
The monarch started from his fhining throne;
Black choler fill'd his breast that boil'd with ire,
And from his eye balls flash'd the living fire.
Augur accurst! denouncing mischief still,
Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill!

125

130

65

Still muft that tongue fome wounding meffage bring,
And ftili thy prieftly pride provoke thy king?
For this are Phoebus' oracles explor'd,

135

70

75

To teach the Greeks to murmur at their Lord?
For this with falfehoods is my honour ftain'd,
Is heaven offended, and a priest profan'd;
Because my prize, my beauteous maid I hold,
And heavenly charms prefer to proffer'd gold? 140
A maid, unmatch'd in manners as in face,
Skill'd in each art, and crown'd with every grace.
Not half fo dear were Clytemnestra's chaims,
When first her blooming beauties bleft my arms.
Yet if the Gods demand her, let her fail;
Our cares are only for the public weal:

145

Forbear! (the progeny of Jove replies) To calm thy fury I forfake the skies: Let great Achilles, to the Gods refign'd, To reafon yield the empire o'er his mind. By awful Juno this command is given; The king and you are both the care of heaven. The force of keen reproaches let him feel, But fheath, obedient, thy revenging steel. For I pronounce (and truft a heavenly power) Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour, When the proud monach fhall thy arms implore, And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store. Then let revenge no longer bear the sway, Command thy paffions, and the Gods obey.

1

275

280

285

To her Pelides. With egardful ear "Tis juft, O Goddefs! I thy dietates hear. Hard as it is, my vengeance I suppress: Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will blefs. 290 He said, obfervant of the blue-ey'd maid; Then in the fheath return'd the fhining blade. The Goddess swift to high Olympus flies, And joins the facred fenate of the skies.

195

300

Nor yet the rage his boiling breaft forfook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke. O monster! mix'd of infolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer! When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare, Or nobly face the horrid front of war? 'Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try, Thine to look on, and bid the valiant die, So much 'tis fafer through the camp to go, And rob a fubject, than defpoila foe. Scourge of thy people, violent and bafe! Sent by Jove's anger on a flavith race, Who, loft to fenfe of generous freedom paft, Are tam'd to wrongs, or this had been thy laft. Now by this facred fcepter hear me fwear, Which never thore fhall leaves or bioffoms bear,

305

345

A Godlike race of heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more these aged eyes fhall view!
Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame,
Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathlefs name;
Thefeus, endued with more than mortal might,
Or Polyphemus, like the Gods in fight?
With thefe of old to toils of battle bred,
In early youth my hardy days I led :
Fir'd with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds,
And fmit with love of honourable deeds.
Strongest of men, thy pierc'd the mountain
boar,

Rang'd the wild defarts red with monsters

gore,

356 And from their hills the fhaggy Centaurs tore. Yet thefe with foft, perfuafive arts I fway'd; When Neftor fpoke, they liften'd and obey'd. If in my youth, ev'n thefe efteem'd me wife; 360 Do you, young warriours, hear my age advise. Atrides, feize not on the beauteous slave; That prize the Greeks by common fuffrage gavę: Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride; Let kings be juft, and fovereign power prefide. 363

370

Thee, the first honours of the war adorn,
Like Gods in ftrength, and of a Goddess born;
Him, awful majefty exalts above
The powers of earth, and fcepter'd fons of Jove.
Let both unite, with well consenting mind,
So thall authority with ftrength be join'd.
Leave me, O king to claim Achilles' rage;
Rule thou thy felf, as more advanc'd in age.
Forbid it Gods! Achilles fhould be loft,
The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host.
375

This faid, he ceas'd: the king of men replies:
Thy years are awful, and thy words are wife.
But that imperious, that unconquer'd soul,
No laws can limit, no respect controul.
Before his pride muft his fuperiours fall,
His word the law, and he the lord of all ?
Him muft our hofts, our chiefs, ourselves obey?
What king can bear a rival in his fway?

Grant that the Gods his matchlefs force hath given;

Has foul reproach a privilege from Heaven? 385
Fere on the monarch's fpeech Achilles broke,
And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke:
Tyrant, I well deferv'd thy galling chain,
To live thy flave, and ftill to ferve in vain

;

+ Colm

With pure
luftrations, and with folemn prayers.
Waih'd by the briny wave, the pious train
Are cleans'd, and caft th' ablutions in the main.
Along the shore whole hecacombs were laid,
And bulls and goats to Phobus' altars paid, 415
The fable fumes in curling spires arife,
And waft their grateful odours to the skies,
The army thus in facred rites engag'd,
Atrides ftill with deep refentment rag'd.
To wait his will, two facred heralds stood,
Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
Hafte to the fierce Achilles' tent (he cries)
Thence bear Brifeïs as our royal prize:
Submit he must; or, if they will not part,
Ourfelf in arms fhall tear her from his heart. 425
Th' unwilling heralds act their lord's com-
mands;

420

430

Penfive they walk along the barren fands:
Arriv'd, the hero in his tent they find,
With gloomy afpect, on his arm reclin'd.
At awful diftance long they filent stand,
Loth to advance, or speak their hard command;
D.cent confufion! This the godlike man
Perceiv'd, and thus with accent mild began:"

435

With leave and honour enter our abodes,
Ye facred minifters of men and Gods!
I know your meffage; by constraint you came;
Not you, but your imperious lord I blame,
Patroclus hafte, the fair Brifeis bring;
Conduct my captive to the haughty king.
But witnefs, heralds, and proclaim my vow, 440
Witness to Gods above, and men below!
But first, and loudest to your prince declare,
That lawless tyrant whofe commands you bear;
Unmov'd as death Achilles fhall remain,
Though proftrate Greece fhould bleed at ev'ry
vein:

The raging chief in frantic paffion loft,
Blind to himself, and uf lefs to his hoft,
Unfkill'd to judge the future by the past,
la blood and flaughter fhall repent at last,

445

Not fo his lofs the fierce Achilles bore;
But fad retiring to the founding fhore,
O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung,
That kindred deep from whence his mother
fprung:

There, bath'd in tears of anger and difdain,
Thus loud lamented to the ftormy main:

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465

O parent Goddefs! fince in early bloom
Thy for muft fall, by too fevere a doom;
Sure, to fo fhort a race of glory born,
Great Jove in Juftice should this span adorn :
Honour and fame at leaft the Thunderer ow'd,
And ill he pays the promife of a God;
If yon proud monarch thus thy fon defies,
Obfcures my glories, and refumes my prize.
Far from the deep receffes of the main,
Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign,
The Goddeis-mother heard. The waves divide;
470

And like a mift fhe rofe above the tide ;
Beheld him mourning on the naked hores,
And thus the forrows of his foul explores.
Why grieves my fon? Thy anguifh let me fhare,
Reveal the cause, and trust a parent's care. 475

He deeply fighing faid: To tell my woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know.
From Thebè facred to Apollo's name,

;

| (Action's realm) our conquering army came,
With treafure loaded and triumphant fpoils; 480
Whofe juft divifions crown'd the folder's toils
But bright Chryfeis, heavenly prize! was led,
By vote felected, to the general's bed.
The priest of Phe bus fought by gifts to gain
His beauteous daughter from the victor's chain;

485

The fleet he reach'd, and lowly bending down,
Held forth the fceptre and the laurel crown,
Entreating all but chief implor'd for grace
The brother-kings of Atreus' royal race:
The generous Greeks their joint confent declare,
490

The priest to reverence, and release the fair ;
Not fo Atrides: He, with wonted pride,
The fire infulted, and his gifts deny'd:
Th' infulted fire (his God's peculiar care)
To Phoebus pray'd, and Phoebus heard the
prayer:

A dreadful plague enfues; th' avenging darts 495
Inceflant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts.
A prophet then, infpir'd by Heaven arose,
And points the crime, and thence derives t

woes.

500

Myfelf the first th' assembled chiefs incline
T'avert the avengeance of the power divine;
Then rifing in his wrath, the monarch ftorm'd;
Incens'd he threaten'd, and his threats per-
form'd:

The fair Chryfeis to her fire was fent,
With offer'd gifts to make the God relent; 505