6 6 The spoils of cities raz'd, and warriors slain, We share with justice, as with toil we gain: 'But to resume whate'er thy avarice craves, (That trick of tyrants) may be borne by slaves. Yet if our chief for plunder only fight, The spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite, Whene'er, by Jove's decree, our conqu❜ring pow'rs Shall humble to the dust her lofty tow'rs.' Then thus the king. 'Shall I my prize resign 'With tame content, and thou possess'd of thine ? 'Great as thou art, and like a god in fight, Think not to rob me of a soldier's right. 'At thy demand shall I restore the maid ? First let the just equivalent be paid;11 'Such as a king might ask; and let it be A treasure worthy her, and worthy me. Or grant me this, or with a monarch's claim This hand shall seize some other captive dame. And waft the sacrifice to Chrysa's shores, With chosen pilots, and with lab'ring oars. 'Or wise Ulysses see perform'd our will; 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 11 I think the legal pretence for Agamemnon's seizing Briseis must have been founded upon that law whereby the commander-in-chief had the power of taking what part of the prey he pleased for his own use; and he being obliged to restore what he had taken, it seemed but just that he should have a second choice. Pope. Comp. v. 245, seq. E. I.] THE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON. 7 'What cause have I to war at thy decree ? The distant Trojans never injured me: 200 To Phthia's realms no hostile troops they led; 'Safe in her vales my warlike coursers fed; 'Far hence remov'd, the hoarse-resounding main, 'And walls of rocks, secure my native reign, Whose fruitful soil luxuriant harvests grace, Rich in her fruits, and in her martial race. T' avenge a private, not a public wrong: What else to Troy th' assembled nations draws, And dar'st thou threat to snatch my prize away, 'Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day? 'A prize as small, O tyrant! matched with thine, 205 210 215 Or barren praises pay the wounds of war. 220 'But know, proud monarch, I'm thy slave no more: 'My fleet shall waft me to Thessalia's shore. 'Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain, 'What spoils, what conquests, shall Atrides gain ?' To this the king: Fly, mighty warrior! fly, 225 'Of all the kings (the gods' distinguish'd care) Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy : There want not chiefs in such a cause to fight, 'And Jove himself shall guard a monarch's right. To pow'r superior none such hatred bear; 230 'And wars and horrors are thy savage joy. 'If thou hast strength, 'twas Heav'n that strength bestow'd, For know, vain man! thy valour is from God. 'Haste, launch thy vessels, fly with speed away, Thy short-liv'd friendship, and thy groundless hate. Go, threat thy earth-born Myrmidons; 12 but here ''Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear. 240 12 The Myrmidons are said to have been ants changed by Jupiter into men, in order that Thessaly, in which they lived, might not be without inhabitants when his son acus was made king of it. Hygin. Fab. 52. 'Know, if the god the beauteous dame demand, 245 Thy lov'd Briseïs, with the radiant eyes. Hence shalt thou prove my might, and curse the hour, 'And hence to all our host it shall be known 'That kings are subject to the gods alone.' 250 That prompts his hand to draw the deadly sword, 255 Force thro' the Greeks, and pierce their haughty lord; This whispers soft, his vengeance to control, And calm the rising tempest of his soul. Just as in anguish of suspense he stay'd, While half unsheath'd appear'd the glitt'ring blade, 260 Sent by the sister13 and the wife of Jove; (For both the princes claim'd her equal care ;) 265 (Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes :) 'Descends Minerva, in her guardian care, A heav'nly witness of the wrongs I bear 270 'From Atreus' son? Then let those eyes that view 'The daring crime, behold the vengeance too.' Forbear!' (the progeny of Jove replies) 'To calm thy fury I forsake the skies: 'Let great Achilles, to the gods resign'd, 275 To reason yield the empire o'er his mind. By awful Juno this command is giv'n; 'The king and you are both the care of heav'n. The force of keen reproaches let him feel, 'But sheath, obedient, thy revenging steel. For I pronounce (and trust a heav'nly pow'r) Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour, When the proud monarch shall thy arms implore, And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store. 13 Juno. 280 |