Remov'd from fight, on Xanthus' flowery bounds They fat, and liftened to the dying founds.

Meantime the Greeks the Trojan race pursue,
And fome bold chieftain every leader flew :
First Odius falls, and bites the bloody fand,
His death ennobled by Atrides' hand;
As he to flight his wheeling car addreft,
The fpeedy javelin drove from back to breast.

In duft the mighty Halizonian lay,
His arms refound, the fpirit wings its way.

50

55

60

Thy fate was next, O Phæftus! doom'd to feel The great Idomeneus' portended fteel; Whom Borus fent (his fon, and only joy) From fruitful Tarne to the fields of Troy. The Cretan javelin reach'd him from afar, And pierc'd his fhoulder as he mounts his car; Back from the car he tumbles to the ground, And everlasting fhades his eyes furround.

Then dy'd Scamandrius, expert in the chace, 65 In woods and wilds to wound the favage race: Diana taught him all her fylvan arts,

70

To bend the bow, and aim unerring darts :
But vainly here Diana's arts he tries,
The fatal lance arrefts him as he flies;
From Menelaus arm the weapon fent,
Through his broad back and heaving bofom went:
Down finks the warriour with a thundering found,
His brazen armour rings against the ground.
Next artful Phereclus untimely fell;
Bold Merion fent him to the realms of hell.
Thy father's fkill, O Phereclus, was thine,
The graceful fabrick and the fair design;
For, lov'd by Pallas, Pallas did impart

75

To him the fhipwright's and the builder's art. So
Beneath his hand the fleet of Paris rofe,
The fatal caufe of all his country's woes;

85

But he, the mystick will of Heaven unknown,
Nor faw his country's peril, nor his own.
The hapless artist, while confus'd he fled,
The fpear of Merion mingled with the dead,
Through his right hip with forceful fury caft,
Between the bladder and the bone it paft:
Prone on his knees he falls with fruitless cries,
And death in lafting flumber feals his eyes.
From Meges' force the swift Pedæus fled,
Antenor's offspring from a foreign bed,
Whofe generous spouse, Theano, heavenly fair,
Nurs'd the young stranger with a mother's care.
How vain thofe cares! when Meges in the rear

90

95

Full in his nape infix'd the fatal spear!
Swift through his crackling jaws the weapon glides,
And the cold tongue the grinning teeth divides.
Then dy'd Hypfenor, generous and divine,
Sprung from the brave Dolopian's mighty line, 100
Who near ador'd Scamander made abode,
Prieft of the stream, and honour'd as a God.
On him, amidst the flying numbers found,
Eurypylus inflicts a deadly wound;
On his broad fhoulders fell the forceful brand,

105 Then glancing downward lopp'd his holy hand, Which ftain'd with facred blood the blushing fand.

Down funk the priest; the purple hand of death Clos'd his dim eye, and fate fupprefs'd his breath.

Thus toil'd the chiefs, in different parts engag'd, In every quarter fierce Tydides rag'd, Amid the Greek, amid the Trojan train,

Rapt through the ranks, he thunders o'er the plain;

Now here, now there, he darts from place to place,
Pours on the rear, or lightens in their face. 115
Thus from high hills the torrents swift and ftrong
Deluge whole fields, and sweep the trees along,
Through ruin'd moles the rushing wave refounds,
O'erwhelms the bridge, and bursts the lofty bounds.
The yellow harvefts of the ripen'd year,
And flatted vineyards, one fad waste appear!
While Jove defcends in fluicy fheets of rain,
And all the labours of mankind are vain.

120

So rag'd Tydides, boundless in his ire, Drove armies back, and made all Troy retire. 125 With grief the leader of the Lycian band Saw the wide wafte of his deftructive hand : His bended bow against the chief he drew; Swift to the mark the thirsty arrow flew, Whofe forky point the hollow breast-plate tore, 130

Deep in his fhoulder pierc'd, and drank his gore: The rushing ftream his brazen armour dy'd, While the proud archer thus exulting cry'd:

140

Hither, ye Trojans, hither drive your steeds!
Lo! by our hand the braveft Grecian bleeds. 135
Not long the dreadful dart he can fuftain;
Or Phoebus urg'd me to these fields in vain.
So fpoke he, boastful; but the winged dart
Stopt fhort of life, and mock'd the shooter's art.
The wounded chief, behind his car retir'd,
The helping hand of Sthenelus requir'd;
Swift from his feat he leap'd upon the ground,
And tugg'd the weapon from the gufhing wound;
When thus the king his guardian power addrest,
The purple current wandering o'er his veft: 145
O progeny of Jove! unconquer'd maid!
If e'er my god-like Sire deferv'd thy aid,
If e'er I felt thee in the fighting field,

Now, Goddefs, now thy facred fuccour yield.
Oh give my lance to reach the Trojan knight, 150
Whofe arrow wounds the chief thou guard'ft in

fight;

And lay the boaster groveling on the shore,
That vaunts thefe eyes fhall view the light no more.
Thus pray'd Tydides, and Minerva heard ;
His nerves confirm'd, his languid fpirits chear'd,
155
He feels each limb with wonted vigour light;
His beating bofom claims the promis'd fight.
Be bold (the cry'd), in every combat shine,
War be thy province, thy protection mine;
Rufh to the fight, and every foe controul;
Wake each paternal virtue in thy foul:
Strength fwells thy boiling breast, infus'd by me,
And all thy god-like father breathes in thee!
Yet more, from mortal mifts I purge thy eyes,
And fet to view the warring Deities.
Thefe fee thou fhun, through all th' embattled
plain,

Nor rafhly strive where human force is vain.

Pandarus

160

165

To him the Lycian: Whom your eyes behold,

230

If Venus mingle in the martial band,
Her fhalt thou wound: fo Pallas gives command.
With that, the blue-ey'd virgin wing'd her flight;
The hero rush'd impetuous to the fight;
With tenfold ardour now invades the plain,
Wild with delay, and more enrag'd by pain.
As on the fleecy flocks, when hunger calls,
Amidst the field a brindled lion falls;
If chance fome fhepherd with a diftant dart
The favage wound, he rouzes at the fmart,
He foams, he roars; the shepherd dares not ftay,
But trembling leaves the fcattering flocks a prey;
Heaps fall on heaps; he bathes with blood the
ground,

175

Then leaps victorious o'er the lofty mound.
Not with lefs fury ftern Tydides flew;
And two brave leaders at an inftant flew :
Aftynous breathlefs fell, and by his fide
His people's paftor, good Hypenor, dy'd;
Aftynous' breaft the deadly lance receives,
Hypenor's fhoulder his broad faulchion cleaves.
Those flain he left; and fprung with noble rage
Abas and Polyïdus to engage;

185

190

Sons of Eurydamas, who, wife and old,
Could fates forefee, and myftic dreams unfold;
The youths return'd not from the doubtful plain,
And the fad father try'd his arts in vain ;
No myftic dream could make their fates appear,
Though now determin'd by Tvdides' fpear.

195

Young Xanthus next, and Thoön felt his rage; The joy and hope of Phænops' feeble age; Vaft was his wealth, and these the only heirs Of all his labours, and a life of cares.

Cold death o'ertakes them in their blooming years,

And leaves the father unavailing tears:
To ftrangers now defcends his wealthy ftore,
The race forgotten, and the name no more.

200

Two fons of Priam in one chariot ride Glittering in arms, and combat fide by fide. 205 As when the lordly lion feeks his food Where grazing heifers range the lonely wood, He leaps amidst them with a furious bound, Bends their ftrong necks, and tears them to the ground:

So from their feats the brother chiefs are torn, 210 Ther feeds and chariot to the navy borne.

215

With deep concern divine Æneas view'd
The foe prevailing, and his friends pursued,
Through the thick ftorm of finging spears he flies,
Exploring Pandarus with careful eyes,
At length he found Lycaon's mighty fon;
To whom the chief of Venus' race begun:
Where, Pandarus, are all thy honours now,
Thy winged arrows and unerring bow,
Thy matchlefs fkill, thy yet unrivall'd fame,
And boafted glory of the Lycian name?
Oh pierce that mortal : if we mortal call
That wondrous force by which whole armies fall;
Or God incens'd, who quits the diftant fkies
To punish Troy for flighted facrifice;

( Which, oh, avert from our unhappy ftate !
For what fo dreadful as celeftial I ate :)
Whoe'er he be, propitiate Jove with prayer;
If man deftroy; if God, intreat to fpare.

220

225

235

If right I judge, is Diomed the bold!
Such courfers whirl him o'er the dusty field,
So towers his helmet, and fo flames his fhield.
If 'tis a God, he wears that chief's disguise;
Or if that chief, fome guardian of the skies
Involv'd in clouds, protects him in the fray,
And turns unfeen the fruftrate dart away.
I wing'd an arrow, which not idly fell,
The ftroke had fix'd him to the gates of hell:
And, but fome God, fome angry God withstands,

240

His fate was due to these unerring hands.
Skill'd in the bow, on foot I fought the war,
Nor join'd fwift horfes to the rapid car.
Ten polish'd chariots I poffefs'd at home,
And still they grace Lycaon's princely dome: 245
There veil'd in spacious coverlets they stand ;
And twice ten courfers wait their lord's command.
The good old warriour bid me trust to these,
When first for Troy I fail'd the facred feas;
In fields aloft the whirling car to guide,
250
And through the ranks of death triumphant ride:
But vain with youth, and yet to thrift inclin'd,
I heard his councils with unheedful mind,
And thought the fteeds (your large fupplies un-
known)

Might fail of forage in the straiten'd town:
So took my bow and pointed darts in hand,
And left the chariots in my native land.

255

265

270

And undiffembled gore purfued the wound.
In vain they bled: this unavailing bow
Serves, not to flaughter, but provoke the foe.
In evil hour these bended horns I ftrung,
And feiz'd the quiver where it idly hung.
Curs'd be the fate that fent me to the field
Without a warriour's arms, the fpear and shield;
If e'er with life I quit the Trojan plain,
If e'er I fee my spouse and fire again,
This bow, unfaithful to my glorious aims,
Broke by my hand, fhall feed the blazing flames.
To whom the leader of the Dardan race:
Be calm, nor Phoebus' honour'd gift difgrace.
The diftant dart be prais'd, though here we need
The rushing chariot, and the bounding fteed. 275
Against yon hero let us bend our course,
And hand to hand, encounter force with force.
Now mount my feat, and from the chariot's height
Obferve my father's fteeds, renown'd in fight,
Practis'd alike to turn, to ftop, to chace,
To dare the shock, or urge the rapid race:
Secure with thefe, through fighting fields we go ;
Or fafe to Troy, if Jove affift the foe.
Hafte, feize the whip, and fnatch the guiding

The horses, practis'd to their lord's command,

290

Shall bear the rein, and answer to thy hand,
But if, unhappy, we defert the fight,
Thy voice alone can animate their flight:
Elfe thall our fates be number'd with the dead,
And thefe, the victor's prize, in triumph led.

295

Thine be the guidance then: with fpear and fhield

Myfelf will charge this terrour of the field.
And now both heroes mount the glittering
car ;

The bounding courfers rush amidst the war.
Their fierce approach bold Sthenelus efpy'd, 300
Who thus, alarm'd, to great Tydides cri'd :

O friend! two chiefs of force immenfe I fee, Dreadful they come, and bend their rage on thee :

Lo the brave heir of bold Lycaon's line,
And great Eneas, fprung from race divine !

Enough is given to fame. Afcend thy car;
And fave a life, the bulwark of our war.
At this the hero caft a gloomy look,

305

Fix'd on the chief with fcorn; and thus he spoke :

Me doft thou bid to fhun the coming fight?

310

Me would'ft thou move to bafe, inglorious flight?
Know, 'tis not honeft in my foul to fear,
Nor was Tydides born to tremble here.
I hate the cumbrous chariot's flow advance,
And the long distance of the flying lance;
But while my nerves are flrong, my force en-
tire,

315

Thus front the foe, and emulate my fire.
Nor fhall yon steeds that fierce to fight convey
Thofe threatening heroes, bear them both away;
One chief at least beneath this arm fhall die; 320
So Pallas tells me, and forbids to fly.
But if the dooms, and if no God withstand,
That both fhall fa 1 by one victorious hand;
Then heed my words: my horfes here detain,
Fix'd to the chariot by the straiten'd rein;
Swift to Æneas' empty feat proceed,
And feize the courfers of ætherial breed:
The race of those, which once the thundering

God

325

He faid, then shook the ponderous lance, and

flung;

On his broad field the founding weapon rung,
Pierc'd the tough orb, and in his cuirafs hung
He bleeds! the pride of Greece! (the boafler
cries)

Our triumph now the mighty warriour lies!
Mistaken vaunter! Diomed reply'd;
Thy dart has err'd, and now my fpear be try'd:
Ye 'fcape not both; one, headlong from his car,
With hoftile blood fhall glut the God of war. 350

He fpoke, and rifing hurl'd his forceful dart,
Which, driven by Pallas, pierc'd a vital part;
Full in his face it enter'd, and betwixt
The nofe and eye-ball the proud Lycian fixt;
Crash'd all his jaws, and cleft the tongue within,

355

Till the bright point look'd out beneath the chin.
Headlong he falls, his helmet knocks the ground;
Earth groans beneath him, and his arms refound;
The starting couriers tremble with affright;
The foul indignant feeks the realms of night. 360
To guard his flaughter'd friend, Æneas flies,
His fpear extending where the carcafe lies;
Watchful he wheels, protects it every way,
As the grim lion ftalks around his prey.
O'er the fall'n trunk his ample shield display'd,
365

He hides the hero with the mighty shade,
And threats aloud: the Greeks with longing eyes
Behold at distance, but forbear the prize.
Then fierce Tydides ftoops; and from the fields,
Heav'd with vaft force, a rocky fragment wields,
Not two ftrong men th' enormous weight could
raife,

Such men as live in thefe degenerate days.
He fwung it round; and gathering ftrength to
throw,

375

389

Difcharg'd the ponderous ruin at the foe.
Where to the hip th' inferted thigh unites,
Full on the bone the pointed marble lights;
Through both the tendons broke the rugged stone,
And ftripp'd the skin, and crack'd the folid bone,
Sunk on his knees, and staggering with the pains.
His falling bulk his bended arm sustains;
Loft in a dizzy mift the warriour lies;
A fudden cloud comes fwimming o'er his eyes.
There the brave chief who mighty numbers fway'd,
Opprefs'd had funk to death's eternal fhade;
But heavenly Venus, mindful of the love
She bore Anchifes in th' Idæan grove,
His danger views with anguish and despair,
And guards her offspring with a mother's care.
About her much-lov'd fon her arms fhe throws,
Her arms whofe whitenefs match the failing
fnows.

383

Next rushing to the Dardan spoil, detains
The heavenly courfers with the flowing manes:

400

Thefe, in proud triumph to the fleet convey'd, No longer now a Trojan lord obey'd, That charge to bold Deipylus he gave, (Whom most he lov'd, as brave men love the brave)

Then mounting on his car, refum'd the rein, 415 And follow'd where Tydides fwept the plain.

410

Meanwhile (his conqueft ravifh'd from his eyes)
The raging chief in chace of Venus flies:
No Goddess fre commiffion'd to the field,
Like Pallas dreadful with her fable fhield,
Or fierce Belloña thundering at the wall,
While flames afcend, and mighty ruins fall;
He knew foft combats fuit the tender dame,
New to the field, and ftill a foe to fame.
Through breaking ranks his furious course he
bends,

And at the Goddefs his broad lance extends;
Through her bright veil the daring weapon drove,
Th' ambrofial veil, which all the Graces wove;
Her fnowy hand the razing steel profan'd,
And the tranfparent fkin with crimson ftain'd,

She mounts the feat, opprefs'd with filent woe, 455

Driven by the Goddess of the painted bow.
The lafh refounds, the rapid chariot flies,
And in a moment fcales the lofty skies:
There ftopp'd the car, and there the courfers
ftood,

Fed by fair Iris with ambrofial food. 460 Before her mother, Love's bright Queen appears, O'erwhelm'd with anguish, and diffolv'd in tears, She rais'd her in her arms, beheld her bleed, And afk'd, what God had wrought this guilty deed?

Then the: This infult from no God I found, 465

An impious mortal gave the daring wound!
Behold the deed of haughty Diomed!
'Twas in the fon's defence the mother bled.
The war with Troy no more the Grecians wage,
But with the Gods (th' immortal Gods) engage.

470

475

Dione then: Thy wrongs with patience bear, And share those gifts inferior powers must share: Unnumber'd woes mankind from us fuftain, And men with woes afflict the Gods again. The mighty Mars in mortal fetters bound, And lodg'd in brazen dungeons under ground, Full thirteen moons imprison'd roar'd in vain; Otus and Ephialtes held the chain: Perhaps had perish'd; had not Hermes' care Reftor'd the groaning God to upper air. Great Juno's felf has borne her weight of pain, Th' imperial partner of the heavenly reign; Amphitryon's fon infix'd the deadly dart, And fill'd with anguish her immortal heart. Ev'n hell's grim king Alcides' power confess'd, 485

480

The fhaft found entrance in his iron breaft;
To Jove's high palace for a cure he fled,
Pierc'd in his own dominions of the dead;
Where Pæon, sprinkling heavenly balm around,
Affuag'd the glowing pangs, and clos'd the wound.

490

Rafh, impious man! to stain the bleft abodes,
And drench his arrows in the blood of Gods!
But thou (though Pallas urg'd thy frantic deed)
Whofe fpear ill-fated makes a Goddess bleed,
Know thou, whoe'er with heavenly power con-
tends,

Short is his date, and foon his glory ends;
From fields of death when late he thall retire,
No infant on his knees fhall call him Sire.
Strong as thou art, fome God may yet be found,
To itretch thee pale and gasping on the ground;

525

To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms.
Thus they in heaven: while on the plain below
The fierce Tydides charg'd his Dardan foe,
Fluth'd with celeftial blood purfu'd his way,
And fearless dar'd the threatening God of day;
Already in his hopes he saw him kill'd,
Through fcreen'd behind Apollo's mighty fhield.
Thrice rushing furious, at the chief he ftrook ;
His blazing buckler thrice Apollo shook : 530
He tri'd the fourth: when, breaking from the
cloud,

A more than mortal voice was heard aloud:
O fon of Tydeus, ceafe! be wife and fee
How vaft the difference of the Gods and thee;
Distance immenfe ! between the powers that
fhine

Above, eternal, deathlefs, and divine,
And mortal man! a wretch of humble birth,
A fhort-liv'd reptile in the dust of earth.

535

540

So fpoke the God who darts celestial fires;
He dreads his fury, and fome steps retires.
Then Phaus bore the chief of Venus' race
To Troy's high fane, and to his holy place;
Latona there and Phoebe heal'd the wound,
With vigour arm'd him, and with glory crown'd.
This done, the patron of the filver bow
545

A phantom rais'd, the fame in fhape and fhow
With great Æneas; fuch the form he bore,
And fuch in fight the radiant arms he wore.
Around the spectre bloody wars are wag'd,
And Greece and Troy with clathing thields en-
gag'd.

Meantime on Ilion's tower Apollo stood,

And, calling Mars, thus urg'd the raging God. Stern power of arms, by whom the mighty fall; Who bath'ft in blood, and thak'ft th' embattled wall,

Rife in thy wrath to hell's abhorr'd abodes 555 Difpact. yon Greek, and vindicate the Gods.

First rofy Venus felt his brutal rage;

Me next he charg'd, and dares all heav'n engage:

The wretch would brave high heaven's immortal Sire,

Still unrefifted fhall the foc deftroy,

And stretch the flaughter to the gates of Troy?
Lo brave Eneas finks beneath his wound,
Not god-like Hector more in arms renown'd; 570
Hafte all, and take the generous warrior's part,
He faid; new courage fwell'd each hero's heart.
Sarpedon firft his ardent foul exprefs'd,
And, turn'd to Hector, thefe bold words ad-
drefs'd:

Say, chief, is all thy ancient valour loft? 575 Where are thy threats, and where thy glorious boaft,

That propt alone by Priam's race should stand
Troy's facred walls, nor need a foreign hand?
Now, now thy country calls her wanted friends,
And the proud vaunt in juft derision ends. 580
Remote they ftand, while alien troops engage,
Like trembling hounds before the lion's rage.
Far diftant hence I held my wide conmmand,
Where foaming Xanthus laves the Lycian land,
With ample wealth (the wifh of mortals) bleft,

His triple thunder, and his bolts of fire.
The God of battle iffues on the plain,
Stirs all the ranks, and fires the Trojan train;
In form like Acamas, the Thracian guide,
Enrag'd to Troy's retiring chiefs he cry'd;

How long, ye fons of Priam! will ye fly, 565
And unreveng'd fee Priam's people die ?
VOL. VI,