605

So Chryses pray'd, Apollo heard his prayer: And now the Greeks their hecatomb prepare ; Between their horns the salted barley threw, 600 And with their heads to heaven the victims slew: The limbs they sever from th' inclosing hide; The thighs, selected to the Gods, divide: On these, in double cawls involv'd with art, The choicest morsels lay from every part. The priest himself before his altar stands, And burns the offering with his holy hands, Pours the black wine, and sees the flames aspire; The youth with instruments surround the fire: The thighs thus sacrific'd, and entrails drest, 610 Th' assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest: Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, Each takes his seat, and each receives his share.. When now the rage of hunger was represt, With pure libations they conclude the feast; 615 The youths with wine the copious goblets crown'd, And pleas'd, dispense the flowing bowls around. With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends, The pæans lengthen'd till the sun descends: The Greeks, restor'd, the grateful notes prolong; 620 Apollo listens, and approves the song.

625

Twas night; the chiefs beside their vessel lie, Till rosy morn had purpled o'er the sky: Then launch, and hoise the mast; indulgent gales, Supply'd by Phoebus, fill the swelling sails; The milk-white canvas bellying as they blow, The parted ocean foams and roars below: Above the bounding billows swift they flew, Till now the Grecian camp appear'd in view. Far on the beach they haul their bark to land, 630 (The crooked keel divides the yellow sand) Then part, where stretch'd along the winding bay The ships and tents in mingled prospect lay. But raging still, amidst his navy sat The stern Achilles, stedfast in his hate; Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd; But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind: In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll, And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul. 639 Twelve days were past, and now the dawning light The Gods had summon'd to th' Olympian height:

635

་

Jove first ascending from the watery bowers,
Leads the long order of etherial powers.
When like the morning mist in early day,
Rose from the flood the daughter of the sea; 645
And to the seats divine her flight addrest.
There, far apart, and high above the rest,
The Thunderer sat; where old Olympus shrouds
His hundred heads in heaven, and props the clouds.
Suppliant the Goddess stood: one hand she plac'd
Beneath his beard, and one his knees embrac'd.
If e'er, O father of the Gods! she said,

655

My words could please thee, or my actions aid;
Some marks of honor on my son bestow,
And pay in glory what in life you owe.
Fame is at least by heavenly promise due
To life so short, and now dishonor'd too.
Avenge this wrong, oh ever just and wise!
Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise;
Till the proud king, and all th' Achaian race, 660
Shall heap with honors him they now disgrace.
Thus Thetis spoke, but Jove in silence held
The sacred councils of his breast conceal'd.
Not so repuls'd, the Goddess closer prest,
Still grasp'd his knees, and urg'd the dear request.
O sire of Gods and men! thy suppliant hear; 666
Refuse, or grant; for what has Jove to fear?
Or, oh! declare, of all the powers above,
Is wretched Thetis least the care of Jove?

675

She said, and sighing thus the God replies, 670 Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies. What hast thou ask'd? Ah why should Jove engage In foreign contests, and domestic rage, The Gods' complaints, and Juno's fierce alarms, While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms? Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway With jealous eyes thy close access survey; But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped: Witness the sacred honors of our head, The nod that ratifies the will divine, The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable sign; This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows→→→ He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows; Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod; The stamp of fate, and sanction of the God: 685

680

High heav'n with trembling the dread signal took,
And all Olympus to the centre shook.

Swift to the seas profound the Goddess flies,
Jove to his starry mansion in the skies.
The shining synod of th' immortals wait

.690

The coming God, and from their thrones of state Arising silent, wrapt in holy fear,

Before the majesty of heaven appear.

695

Trembling they stand, whileJove assumes the throne,
All, but the God's imperious queen alone:
Late had she view'd the silver-footed dame,
And all her passions kindled into flame.
Say, artful manager of heaven (she cries)
Who now partakes the secrets of the skies?
Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate,
In vain the partner of imperial state.

700

705

What favorite Goddess then those cares divides,
Which Jove in prudence from his consort hides?
To this the Thunderer: Seek not thou to find
The sacred counsels of almighty mind:
Involv'd in darkness lies the great decree,
Nor can the depths of fate be pierc'd by thee.
What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know;
The first of Gods above and men below;
But thou, nor they, shall search the thoughts that roll
Deep in the close recesses of my soul.

711

720

Full on the sire the Goddess of the skies Roll'd the large orbs of her majestic eyes, And thus return'd. Austere Saturnius, say, From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway? Thy boundless will, for me, remains in force, 716 And all thy counsels take the destin'd course. But 'tis for Greece I fear: for late was seen In close consult the silver-footed queen, Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny, Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky. What fatal favor has the Goddess won, To grace her fierce, inexorable son? Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain, And glut his vengeance with my people slain. 725 Then thus the God: Oh restless fate of pride, That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide; Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorr'd, Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.

Let this suffice; th' immutable decree

No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.
Goddess, submit, nor dare our will withstand,
But dread the power of this avenging hand;
Th' united strength of all the Gods above
In vain resists th' omnipotence of Jove.

730

735

The Thunderer spoke, nor durst the queen reply; A reverend horror silenc'd all the sky. The feast disturb'd, with sorrow Vulcan saw His mother menac'd, and the Gods in awe; Peace at his heart, and pleasure his design, Thus interpos'd the architect divine. The wretched quarrels of the mortal state Are far unworthy, Gods! of your debate: Let men their days in senseless strife employ, We, in eternal peace, and constant joy. Thou Goddess-mother, with our sire comply, Nor break the sacred union of the sky;

740

745

Lest, rouz'd to rage, he shake the blest abodes,
Launch the red lightning, and dethrone the Gods.
If you submit, the Thunderer stands appeas'd; 750
The gracious power is willing to be pleas'd.
Thus Vulcan spoke; and rising with a bound,
The double bowl with sparkling nectar crown'd,
Which held to Juno in a cheerful way,
Goddess (he cried) be patient and obey.
Dear as you are, if Jove his arm extend,
I can but grieve, unable to defend.
What God so daring in your aid to move,
Or lift his hand against the force of Jove?

755

Once in your cause I felt his matchless might, 760 Hurl'd headlong downward from th' etherial height; Tost all the day in rapid circles round;

Nor till the sun descended, touch'd the ground:
Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost;

The Sinthians rais'd me on the Lemnian coast. 765
He said, and to her hands the goblet heav'd
Which, with a smile, the white-arm'd queen receiv'd.
Then to the rest he fill'd; and in his turn,
Each to his lips apply'd the nectar'd urn.
Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,
And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the skies.
Thus the blest Gods the genial day prolong,
In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song.

770

Apollo tun'd the lyre; the Muses round
With voice alternate aid the silver sound.
Meantime the radiant sun, to mortal sight
Descending swift, roll'd down the rapid light.
Then to their starry domes the Gods depart,
The shining monuments of Vulcan's art:
Jove on his couch reclin'd his awful head,
And Juno slumber'd on the golden bed.