The queen of love her favour'd champion shrouds
(For gods can all things) in a veil of clouds.
Rais'd from the field the panting youth she led,
And gently laid him on the bridal bed,
With pleasing sweets his fainting sense renews,
And all the dome perfumes with heavenly dews.
Meantime the brightest of the female kind,
The matchless Helen, o'er the walls reclin'd;
To her, beset with Trojan beauties, came
In borrow'd form the laughter-loving dame1,
(She seem'd an ancient maid, well-skill'd to cull
The snowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The goddess softly shook her silken vest,
That shed perfumes, and whispering thus addrest:
Haste, happy nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls.
Fair as a god! with odours round him spread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed:
Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
Bat some gay dancer in the public show."

She spoke, and Helen's secret soul was mov'd;
She scorn'd the champion, but the man she lov'd.
Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
And breast, reveal'd the queen of soft desire.
Struck with her presence, straight the lively red
Forsook her check; and, trembling, thus said:
Then is it still thy pleasure to deceive?
And woman's frailty always to believe?
Say, to new natious must I cross the main,
Or carry wars to some soft Asian plain?
For whom must Helen break her second vow?
What other Paris is thy darling now?
Left to Atrides (victor in the stife)
An odious conquest, and a captive wife,
Hence let me sail: and if thy Paris bear
My absence ill, let Venus ease his care.
A hand-maid goddess at his side to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state,
Be fix'd for ever to the Trojan shore,

His spouse, or slave; and mount the skies no more.
For me, to lawless love no longer led,

I scorn the coward, and detest his bed;
Else should I merit everlasting shame,
A

keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame: El suits it now the joys of love to know, Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe."

Then, thus incens'd, the Paphian queen replies;
"Obey the power from whom thy glories rise:
Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fly,
Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye.
Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more
The world's aversion, than their love before;
Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
Then the sad victim of the public rage."

At this. the fairest of her sex obey'd,
And reil'd her blushes in a silken shade,
Unsen, and silent, from the train she moves,
Led by the goddess of the Smiles and Loves.

Arrivid, and enter'd at the palace-gate,
The maids officious round their mistress wait;
Ta all, dispersing, various tasks attend;
The queen and goddess to the prince ascend.
Full in her Paris' sight, the queen of love
Had plac'd the beanteous progeny of Jove;
Where, as he view'd her charms, she turn'd away
Her glowing eyes, and thus began to say:

Oh hadst thou dy'd beneath the righteous sword
Of that brave man whom once I call'd my lord!
The boaster Paris oft desir'd the day
With Sparta's king to meet in single fray:
Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite,
Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight:
Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill'd
Should'st fall an easy conquest on the field.”

The prince replies: "Ah cease, divinely fair, Nor add reproaches to the wounds I bear; This day the foe prevail'd by Pallas' power; We yet may vanquish in a happier hour: There want not gods to favour us above; But let the business of our life be love: These softer moments let delight employ, And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy. Not thus I lov'd thee, when from Sparta's shore, My fore'd, my willing, heavenly prize I bore, When first entranc'd in Cranae's isle I lay, Mix'd with thy soul, and all dissolv'd away!" Thus having spoke, th' enamour'd Phrygian boy Rush'd to the bed, impatient for the joy. Him Helen follow'd slow with bashful charms, And clasp'd the blooming hero in her arms.

While these to love's delicious rapture yield,
The stern Atrides rages round the field:
So some fell lion, whom the woods obey,
Roars through the desert, and demands his prey.
Paris he seeks, impatient to destroy,
But seeks in vain along the troops of Troy ;
Ev'n those had yielded to a foe so brave,
The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave.
Then speaking thus, the king of kings arose!
"Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes!
Hear, and attest! from Heaven with conquest
crown'd,

Our brother's arms the just success have found:
Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restor❜d,
Let Argive Helen own her awful lord;
Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay,
And age to age record this signal day."

He ceas'd his army's loud applauses rise,
And the long shout runs echoing through the skies.

THE ILIAD.

BOOK IV.

ARGUMENT.

THE BREACH OF THE TRUCE, AND THE FIRST BASTLE.

THE gods deliberate in council concerning the Trojan war: they agree upon the continuation of it, and Jupiter sends down Minerva to break the truce. She persuades Pandarus to aim an arrow at Menelaus, who is wounded, but cured by Machaon. In the mean time some of the Trojan troops attack the Greks. Agamemnon is distinguished in all the parts of a good general; he reviews the troops, and exhorts the leaders, some by praises, and others by reproofs. Nestor is particularly celebrated for his military discipline. The battle joius, and great numbers are slain on both sides.

The same day continues through this, as through the last book (as it does also through the two following, and almost to the end of the seventh book.) The scene is wholly in the field before Troy.

AND

now Olympus' shining gates unfold; The gods, with Jove, assume their thrones of gold: Immortal Hebè, fresh with bloom divine, The golden goblet crowns with purple wine: While the full bowls flow round, the powers employ Their careful eyes on long-contended Troy.

When Jove, dispos'd to tempt Saturnia's spleen,
Thus wak'd the fury of his partial queen :
"Two powers divine the son of Atreus aid,
Imperial Juno, and the martial maid;
But high in Heaven they sit, and gaze from far,
The tame spectators of his deeds of war.
Not thus fair Venus helps her favour'd knight,
The queen of pleasures shares the toils of fight,
Each danger wards, and, constant in her care,
Saves in the moment of the last despair.
Her act has rescu'd Paris' forfeit life,
Though great Atrides gain'd the glorious strife.
Then say, ye powers! what signal issue waits
To crown this deed, and finish all the fates?
Shall Heaven by peace the bleeding kingdoms
spare,

Or rouse the Furies, and awake the war?
Yet, would the gods for human good provide,
Atrides soon might gain his beauteous bride,
Still Priam's walls in peaceful honours grow,
And through his gates the crowding nations flow."
Thus while he spoke, the queen of Heaven en-
rag'd

And queen of war in close consult engag'd:
Apart they sit, their deep designs employ,
And meditate the future woes of Troy.
Though secret anger swell'd Minerva's breast,
The prudent goddess yet her wrath supprest;
But Juno, impotent of passion, broke
Her sullen silence, and with fury spoke:

"Shall then, O tyrant of th' ethereal reign!
My schemes, my labours, and my hopes, be vain?
Have I, for this, shook lion with alarms,
Assembled nations, set two worlds in arms?
To spread the war, 1 flew from shore to shore;
Th'immortal coursers scarce the labour bore.
At length ripe vengeance o'er their heads impends,
But Jove himself the faithless race defends:
Loth as thou art to punish lawless lust,
Not all the gods are partial and unjust."

The sire whose thunder shakes the cloudy skies
Sighs from his inmost soul, and thus replies:
"Oh lasting rancour! oh insatiate hate
To Phrygia's monarch, and the Phrygian state!
What high offence has fir'd the wife of Jove,
Can wretched mortals harm the powers above?
That Troy and Troy's whole race thou would'st
confound.

And yon fair structures level with the ground?
Haste, leave the skies, fulfil thy stern desire,
Burst all her gates, and wrap her walls in fire!
Let Priam bleed! If yet thou thirst for more,
Bleed all his sons, and Ilion float with gore,
To boundless vengeance the wide realm be given,
Till vast destruction glut the queen of Heaven!
So let it be, and Jove his peace enjoy,
When Heaven no longer hears the name of Troy :

But should this arm prepare to wreak our hate
On thy lov'd realms, whose guilt demands their
fate,

Presume not thou the lifted bolt to stay;
Remember Troy, and give the vengeance way.
For know, of all the numerous towns that rise
Beneath the rolling Sun and starry skies,
Which gods have rais'd, or earth-born men
enjoy,

None stands so dear to Jove as sacred Troy.
No mortals merit more distinguish'd grace
Than godlike Priam, or than Priam's race,
Still to our name their hetacombs expire,
And altars blaze with unextinguish'd fire."
At this the goddess roll'd her radiant eyes,
Then on the thunderer fix'd them, and replies:
"Three towns are Juno's on the Grecian plains,
More dear than all th' extended Earth contains,
Mycenæ, Argos, and the Spartan wall;
These thou may'st raze, nor I forbid their fall:
'Tis not in me the vengeance to remove;
The crime's sufficient, that they share my love.
Of power superior why should I complain?
Resent I may, but must resent in vain.
Yet some distinction Juno might require,
Sprung with thyself from one celestial sire,
A goddess born to share the realms above,
And styl'd the consort of the thundering Jove;
Nor thou a wife and sister's right deny;
Let both consent, and both by turns comply;
So shall the gods our joint decrees obey,
And Heaven shall act as we direct the way.
See ready Pallas waits thy high commands,
To raise in arms the Greek and Phrygian bands;
Their sudden friendship by her arts may cease,
And the proud Trojans first infringe the peace."
The sire of men and monarch of the sky,
Th' advice approv'd, and bade Minerva fly,
Dissolve the league, and all her arts employ
To make the breach the faithless act of Troy.

Fir'd with the charge, she headlong urg'd her

flight,

And shot like lightning from Olympus' height.
As the red comet, from Saturnius sent
To fright the nations with a dire portent
(A fatal sign to armies on the plain,
Or trembling sailors on the wintery main)
With sweeping glories glides along in air,
And shakes the sparkles from its blazing hair :
Between both armies thus, in open sight,
Shot the bright goddess in a trail of light.
With eyes erect the gazing hosts admire
The power descending, and the Heavens on fire!
"The gods" (they cried) "the gods this signal sent,
And fate now labours with some vast event:
Jove seals the league, or bloodier scenes prepares;
Jove, the great arbiter of peace and wars!"

They said, while Pallas through the Trojan
(In shape a mortal) pass'd disguis'd along. [throng
Like bold Laödocus, her course she bent,
Who from Antenor trac'd his high descent.
Amidst the ranks Lycaön's son she found,
The warlike Pandarus, for strength renown'd;
Whose squadrons, led from black Esopus' flood,
With flaming shields in martial circle stood.

To him the goddess: "Phrygian! can'st thou A well-tim'd counsel with a willing ear? [hear What praise were thine, could'st thou direct thy dart,

Amidst his triumph, to the Spartan's heart!

On foot through all the martial ranks he moves, And these encourages, and those reproves. "Brave men!" he cries (to such who boldly dare Urge their swift steeds to face the coming war) "Your ancient valour on the foes approve; Jove is with Greece, and let us trust in Jove. 'Tis not for us, but guilty Troy to dread, Whose crimes sit heavy on her perjur'd head; Her sons and matrons Greece shall lead in chains, And her dead warriors strew the mournful plains."

Thus with new ardour he the brave inspires; Or thus the fearful with reproaches fires: "Shame to your country, scandal of your kind! Born to the fate ye well deserve to find! Why stand ye gazing round the dreadful plain, Prepar'd for flight, but doom'd to fly in vain ? Confus'd and panting thus, the hunted deer Falls as he flies, a victim to his fear. Still must ye wait the foes, and still retire, Till yon tall vessels blaze with Trojan fire? Or trust ye, Jove a valiant foe shall chase, To save a trembling, heartless, dastard race?"

This said, he stalk'd with ample strides along,
To Crete's brave monarch and his martial throng;
High at their head he saw the chief appear,
And bold Meriones excite the rear.
At this the king his generous joy exprest,
And clasp'd the warrior to his armed breast:
"Divine Idomeneus! what thanks we owe
To worth like thine! what praise shall we bestow?
To thee the foremost honours are decreed,
First in the fight, and every graceful deed.
For this, in banquets, when the generous bowls
Restore our blood, and raise the warriors' souls,
Though all the rest with stated rules we bound,
Unmix'd, unmeasur'd, are thy goblets crown'd.
Be still thyself; in arms a mighty name;
Maintain thy honours, and enlarge thy fame."

To whom the Cretan thus his speech addrest:
"Secure of me, O king! exhort the rest:
Fix'd to thy side, in every toil I share,
Thy firm associate in the day of war.
But let the signal be this moment given;
To mix in fight is all I ask of Heaven.
The field shall prove how perjuries succeed,
And chains or death avenge their impious deed."

Charm'd with this heat, the king his course
And next the troops of either Ajax views: [pursues,
In one firm orb the bands were rang'd around
A cloud of heroes blacken'd all the ground.
Thus from the lofty promontory's brow
A swain surveys the gathering storm below;
Slow from the main the heavy vapours rise,
Spread in dim streams, and sail along the skies,
Till black at night the swelling tempest shows,
The cloud condensing as the west-wind blows:
He dreads th' impending storm, and drives his
To the close covert of an arching rock.

[flock

Such, and so thick, th' embattled squadrons With spears erect, a moving iron wood; [stood, A shady light was shot from glimmering shields, And their brown arms obscur'd the dusky fields.

"O heroes! worthy such a dauntless train, Whose god-like virtue we but urge in vain," [bands (Exclaiin'd the king)" who raise your eager With great examples, more than loud commands: Ah, would the gods but breathe in all the rest Such souls as burn in your exalted breast: Soon should our arms with just success be crown'd, And Troy's proud walls iie smoking on the ground."

Then to the next the general bends his course (His heart exults, and glories in his force ;) There reverend Nestor ranks his Pylian bands, And with inspiring eloquence commands; With strictest order set his train in arms, The chiefs advises, and the soldiers warms, Alastor, Chromius, Hæmon round him wait, Bias the good, and Pelagon the great. The horse and chariots to the front assign'd, The foot (the strength of war) he rang'd behind; The middle space suspected troops supply, Enclos'd by both, nor left the power to fly; He gives command to curb the fiery steed, Nor cause confusion, nor the ranks exceed; Before the rest let none too rashly ride; No strength nor skill, but just in time, be try'd; The charge once made, no warrior turn the But fight, or fall; a firm embody'd train. He whom the fortune of the field shall cast From forth his chariot, mount the next in haste; Nor seek unpractis'd to direct the car, Content with javelins to provoke the war. Our great forefathers held this prudent course, Thus rul'd their ardour, thus preserv'd their force, By laws like these immortal conquest made, And Earth's proud tyrants low in ashes laid."

[rein,

So spoke the master of the martial art, And touch'd with transport great Atrides' heart! "Oh! had'st thou strength to match thy brave desires,

And nerves to second what thy soul inspires!
But wasting years, that wither human race,
Exhaust thy spirits, and thy arms unbrace.
What once thou wert, oh ever might'st thou be!
And age the lot of any chief but thee."

Thus to th' experienc'd prince Atrides cry'd;
He shook his hoary locks, and thus reply'd:
"Well might I wish, could mortal wish renew
That strength which once in boiling youth I knew;
Such as I was, when Ereuthalion slain
Beneath this arm fell prostrate on the plain.
But Heaven its gifts not all at once bestows,
These years with wisdom crowns, with action
those;

The field of combat fits the young and bold,
The solemn council best becomes the old :
To you the glorious conflict I resign,
Let sage advice, the palm of age, be mine."
He said. With joy the monarch march'd before,
And found Menestheus on the dusty shore,
With whom the firm Athenian phalanx stands,
And next Ulysses with his subject bands.
Remote their forces lay, nor knew so far
The peace infring'd, nor heard the sound of war ;
The tumult late begun, they stood intent
To watch the motion, dubious of th' event.
The king, who saw their squadrons yet unmov'd,
With hasty ardour thus the chiefs reprov'd:

"Can Peleus' son forget a warrior's part,
And fears Ulysses, skill'd in every art?
Why stand you distant, and the rest expect
To mix in combat which yourselves neglect?
From you 'twas hop'd among the first to dare
The shocks of armies, and commence the war.
For this your names are call'd before the rest,
To share the pleasures of the genial feast:
And can you, chiefs! without a blush survey
Whole troops before you labouring in the fray?
Say, is it thus those honours you requite:
The first in banquets, but the last in fight?"