The Iliad Part 26

Heaps fell on heaps, sad trophies of his art, A Trojan ghost attending every dart.

Great Agamemnon views with joyful eye The ranks grow thinner as his arrows fly: "O youth forever dear! (the monarch cried) Thus, always thus, thy early worth be tried; Thy brave example shall retrieve our host, Thy country's saviour, and thy father's boast!

Sprung from an alien's bed thy sire to grace, The vigorous offspring of a stolen embrace: Proud of his boy, he own'd the generous flame, And the brave son repays his cares with fame.

Now hear a monarch's vow: If heaven's high powers Give me to raze Troy's long-defended towers; Whatever treasures Greece for me design, The next rich honorary gift be thine: Some golden tripod, or distinguished car, With coursers dreadful in the ranks of war: Or some fair captive, whom thy eyes approve, Shall recompense the warrior's toils with love."

To this the chief: "With praise the rest inspire, Nor urge a soul already fill'd with fire.

What strength I have, be now in battle tried, Till every shaft in Phrygian blood be dyed.

Since rallying from our wall we forced the foe, Still aim'd at Hector have I bent my bow: Eight forky arrows from this hand have fled, And eight bold heroes by their points lie dead: But sure some G.o.d denies me to destroy This fury of the field, this dog of Troy."

He said, and tw.a.n.g'd the string. The weapon flies At Hector's breast, and sings along the skies: He miss'd the mark; but pierced Gorgythio's heart, And drench'd in royal blood the thirsty dart.

(Fair Castianira, nymph of form divine, This offspring added to king Priam's line.) As full-blown poppies, overcharged with rain,(196) Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain; So sinks the youth: his beauteous head, depress'd Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast.

Another shaft the raging archer drew, That other shaft with erring fury flew, (From Hector, Phoebus turn'd the flying wound,) Yet fell not dry or guiltless to the ground: Thy breast, brave Archeptolemus! it tore, And dipp'd its feathers in no vulgar gore.

Headlong he falls: his sudden fall alarms The steeds, that startle at his sounding arms.

Hector with grief his charioteer beheld All pale and breathless on the sanguine field: Then bids Cebriones direct the rein, Quits his bright car, and issues on the plain.

Dreadful he shouts: from earth a stone he took, And rush'd on Teucer with the lifted rock.

The youth already strain'd the forceful yew; The shaft already to his shoulder drew; The feather in his hand, just wing'd for flight, Touch'd where the neck and hollow chest unite; There, where the juncture knits the channel bone, The furious chief discharged the craggy stone: The bow-string burst beneath the ponderous blow, And his numb'd hand dismiss'd his useless bow.

He fell: but Ajax his broad shield display'd, And screen'd his brother with the mighty shade; Till great Alaster, and Mecistheus, bore The batter'd archer groaning to the sh.o.r.e.

Troy yet found grace before the Olympian sire, He arm'd their hands, and fill'd their b.r.e.a.s.t.s with fire.

The Greeks repulsed, retreat behind their wall, Or in the trench on heaps confusedly fall.

First of the foe, great Hector march'd along, With terror clothed, and more than mortal strong.

As the bold hound, that gives the lion chase, With beating bosom, and with eager pace, Hangs on his haunch, or fastens on his heels, Guards as he turns, and circles as he wheels; Thus oft the Grecians turn'd, but still they flew; Thus following, Hector still the hindmost slew.

When flying they had pa.s.s'd the trench profound, And many a chief lay gasping on the ground; Before the ships a desperate stand they made, And fired the troops, and called the G.o.ds to aid.

Fierce on his rattling chariot Hector came: His eyes like Gorgon shot a sanguine flame That wither'd all their host: like Mars he stood: Dire as the monster, dreadful as the G.o.d!

Their strong distress the wife of Jove survey'd; Then pensive thus, to war's triumphant maid:

"O daughter of that G.o.d, whose arm can wield The avenging bolt, and shake the sable shield!

Now, in this moment of her last despair, Shall wretched Greece no more confess our care, Condemn'd to suffer the full force of fate, And drain the dregs of heaven's relentless hate?

G.o.ds! shall one raging hand thus level all?

What numbers fell! what numbers yet shall fall!

What power divine shall Hector's wrath a.s.suage?

Still swells the slaughter, and still grows the rage!"

So spake the imperial regent of the skies; To whom the G.o.ddess with the azure eyes:

"Long since had Hector stain'd these fields with gore, Stretch'd by some Argive on his native sh.o.r.e: But he above, the sire of heaven, withstands, Mocks our attempts, and slights our just demands; The stubborn G.o.d, inflexible and hard, Forgets my service and deserved reward: Saved I, for this, his favourite son distress'd, By stern Eurystheus with long labours press'd?

He begg'd, with tears he begg'd, in deep dismay; I shot from heaven, and gave his arm the day.

Oh had my wisdom known this dire event, When to grim Pluto's gloomy gates he went; The triple dog had never felt his chain, Nor Styx been cross'd, nor h.e.l.l explored in vain.

Averse to me of all his heaven of G.o.ds, At Thetis' suit the partial Thunderer nods; To grace her gloomy, fierce, resenting son, My hopes are frustrate, and my Greeks undone.

Some future day, perhaps, he may be moved To call his blue-eyed maid his best beloved.

Haste, launch thy chariot, through yon ranks to ride; Myself will arm, and thunder at thy side.

Then, G.o.ddess! say, shall Hector glory then?

(That terror of the Greeks, that man of men) When Juno's self, and Pallas shall appear, All dreadful in the crimson walks of war!

What mighty Trojan then, on yonder sh.o.r.e, Expiring, pale, and terrible no more, Shall feast the fowls, and glut the dogs with gore?"

She ceased, and Juno rein'd the steeds with care: (Heaven's awful empress, Saturn's other heir:) Pallas, meanwhile, her various veil unbound, With flowers adorn'd, with art immortal crown'd; The radiant robe her sacred fingers wove Floats in rich waves, and spreads the court of Jove.

Her father's arms her mighty limbs invest, His cuira.s.s blazes on her ample breast.

The vigorous power the trembling car ascends: Shook by her arm, the ma.s.sy javelin bends: Huge, ponderous, strong! that when her fury burns Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'erturns.

Saturnia lends the lash; the coursers fly; Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky.

Heaven's gates spontaneous open to the powers, Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged Hours.

Commission'd in alternate watch they stand, The sun's bright portals and the skies command; Close, or unfold, the eternal gates of day Bar heaven with clouds, or roll those clouds away.

The sounding hinges ring, the clouds divide.

p.r.o.ne down the steep of heaven their course they guide.

But Jove, incensed, from Ida's top survey'd, And thus enjoin'd the many-colour'd maid.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JUNO AND MINERVA GOING TO a.s.sIST THE GREEKS.]

JUNO AND MINERVA GOING TO a.s.sIST THE GREEKS.

"Thaumantia! mount the winds, and stop their car; Against the highest who shall wage the war?

If furious yet they dare the vain debate, Thus have I spoke, and what I speak is fate: Their coursers crush'd beneath the wheels shall lie, Their car in fragments, scatter'd o'er the sky: My lightning these rebellious shall confound, And hurl them flaming, headlong, to the ground, Condemn'd for ten revolving years to weep The wounds impress'd by burning thunder deep.

So shall Minerva learn to fear our ire, Nor dare to combat hers and nature's sire.

For Juno, headstrong and imperious still, She claims some t.i.tle to transgress our will."

Swift as the wind, the various-colour'd maid From Ida's top her golden wings display'd; To great Olympus' shining gate she flies, There meets the chariot rushing down the skies, Restrains their progress from the bright abodes, And speaks the mandate of the sire of G.o.ds.

"What frenzy G.o.ddesses! what rage can move Celestial minds to tempt the wrath of Jove?

Desist, obedient to his high command: This is his word; and know his word shall stand: His lightning your rebellion shall confound, And hurl ye headlong, flaming, to the ground; Your horses crush'd beneath the wheels shall lie, Your car in fragments scatter'd o'er the sky; Yourselves condemn'd ten rolling years to weep The wounds impress'd by burning thunder deep.

So shall Minerva learn to fear his ire, Nor dare to combat hers and nature's sire.

For Juno, headstrong and imperious still, She claims some t.i.tle to transgress his will: But thee, what desperate insolence has driven To lift thy lance against the king of heaven?"

Then, mounting on the pinions of the wind, She flew; and Juno thus her rage resign'd:

"O daughter of that G.o.d, whose arm can wield The avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield No more let beings of superior birth Contend with Jove for this low race of earth; Triumphant now, now miserably slain, They breathe or perish as the fates ordain: But Jove's high counsels full effect shall find; And, ever constant, ever rule mankind."

She spoke, and backward turn'd her steeds of light, Adorn'd with manes of gold, and heavenly bright.

The Hours unloosed them, panting as they stood, And heap'd their mangers with ambrosial food.

There tied, they rest in high celestial stalls; The chariot propp'd against the crystal walls, The pensive G.o.ddesses, abash'd, controll'd, Mix with the G.o.ds, and fill their seats of gold.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HOURS TAKING THE HORSES FROM JUNO'S CAR.]

THE HOURS TAKING THE HORSES FROM JUNO'S CAR.

And now the Thunderer meditates his flight From Ida's summits to the Olympian height.

Swifter than thought, the wheels instinctive fly, Flame through the vast of air, and reach the sky.

'Twas Neptune's charge his coursers to unbrace, And fix the car on its immortal base; There stood the chariot, beaming forth its rays, Till with a snowy veil he screen'd the blaze.

He, whose all-conscious eyes the world behold, The eternal Thunderer sat, enthroned in gold.

High heaven the footstool of his feet he makes, And wide beneath him all Olympus shakes.

Trembling afar the offending powers appear'd, Confused and silent, for his frown they fear'd.

He saw their soul, and thus his word imparts: "Pallas and Juno! say, why heave your hearts?

Soon was your battle o'er: proud Troy retired Before your face, and in your wrath expired.

But know, whoe'er almighty power withstand!

Unmatch'd our force, unconquer'd is our hand: Who shall the sovereign of the skies control?

Not all the G.o.ds that crown the starry pole.

Your hearts shall tremble, if our arms we take, And each immortal nerve with horror shake.

For thus I speak, and what I speak shall stand; What power soe'er provokes our lifted hand, On this our hill no more shall hold his place; Cut off, and exiled from the ethereal race."