A sire the slaughter of his son forgives;
The price of blood discharged, the murderer lives:
The haughtiest hearts at length their rage resign,
And gifts can conquer every soul but thine.
The gods that unrelenting breast have steel'd,
And cursed thee with a mind that cannot yield.
One woman-slave was ravish'd from thy arms;
Lo, seven are offer'd, and of equal charms.
Then hear, Achilles! be of better mind;
Revere thy roof, and to thy guests be kind;
And know the men, of all the Grecian host,
Who honour worth, and prize thy valour most."
"Oh, soul of battles, and thy people's guide !"
(To Ajax thus the first of Greeks replied :)
"Well hast thou spoke! but at the tyrant's name,
My rage rekindles, and my soul's on flame:
'Tis just resentment, and becomes the brave;
Disgraced, dishonour'd, like the vilest slave!
Return then, heroes! and our answer bear:
The glorious combat is no more my care;
Not till, amid yon sinking navy slain,
The blood of Greeks shall dye the sable main;
Not till the flames, by Hector's fury thrown,
Consume your vessels, and approach my own:
Just there, th' impetuous homicide shall stand,
There cease his battle, and there feel our hand."
This said, each prince a double goblet crown'd,
And cast a large libation on the ground:
Then to their vessels, through the gloomy shades,
The chiefs return; divine Ulysses leads.
Meantime, Achilles' slaves prepared a bed,
With fleeces, carpets, and soft linen spread:
There, till the sacred morn restored the day,
In slumbers sweet the reverend Phoenix lay.
But in his inner tent, an ampler space,
Achilles slept; and in his warm embrace
Fair Diomede of the Lesbian race.
Last, for Patroclus was the couch prepared,
Whose nightly joys the beauteous Iphis shared;
Achilles to his friend consign'd her charms,
When Scyros fell before his conquering arms.
And now th' elected chiefs, whom Greece had sent,
Pass'd through the hosts, and reach'd the royal tent.
Then rising all, with goblets in their hands,
The peers, and leaders of th' Achaian bands,
Hail'd their return. Atrides first begun:
"Say, what success? divine Laërtes' son!
Achilles' high resolves declare to all;
Returns the chief, or must our navy fall?"
"Great king of nations!" Ithacus replied,
"Fix'd is his wrath, unconquer'd is his pride;
He slights thy friendship, thy proposals scorns,
And, thus implored, with fiercer fury burns.
To save our army, and our fleets to free,
Is not his care; but left to Greece and thee.
Your eyes shall view, when morning paints the sky, 800
Beneath his oars the whitening billows fly,
Us, too, he bids our oars and sails employ,
Nor hope the fall of heaven-protected Troy:
For Jove o'ershades her with his arm divine,
Inspires her war, and bids her glory shine.
Such was his word: what farther he declared,
The sacred heralds and great Ajax heard.
But Phoenix in his tent the chief retains,
Safe to transport him to his native plains,
When morning dawns: if other he decree,
His age is sacred, and his choice is free."
Ulysses ceased. The great Achaian host,
With sorrow seized, in consternation lost,
Attend the stern reply. Tydides broke
The general silence, and undaunted spoke:
"Why should we gifts to proud Achilles send?
Or strive with prayers his haughty soul to bend?
His country's woes he glories to deride,
And prayers will burst that swelling heart with pride.
Be the fierce impulse of his rage obey'd;
Our battles let him, or desert, or aid:
Then let him arm when Jove or he think fit;
That, to his madness, or to Heaven commit:
What for ourselves we can, is always ours;
This night let due repast refresh our powers,
(For strength consists in spirit and in blood,
And those are owed to generous wine and food ;)
But when the rosy messenger of day
Strikes the blue mountains with her golden ray,
Ranged at the ships, let all our squadrons shine
In flaming arms, a long-extended line:
In the dread front let great Atrides stand,
The first in danger, as in high command."
Shouts of acclaim the listening heroes raise,
Then each to Heaven the due libations pays;
Till sleep, descending o'er the tents, bestows
The grateful blessings of desired repose.
The Night Adventure of Diomed and Ulysses.
ARGUMENT.-Upon the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, the distress
of Agamemnon is described in the most lively manner. He takes no rest
that night, but passes through the camp, awaking the leaders, and con-
triving all possible methods for the public safety. Menelaüs, Nestor,
Ulysses, and Diomed, are employed in raising the rest of the captains. They
call a council of war, and determine to send scouts into the enemy's camp,
to learn their posture, and discover their intentions. Diomed undertakes
this hazardous enterprise, and makes choice of Ulysses for his companion.
In their passage, they surprise Dolon, whom Hector had sent on a like
design to the camp of the Grecians. From him they are informed of the
situation of the Trojan and auxiliary forces, and particularly of Rhesus,
and the Thracians who were lately arrived. They pass on with success;
kill Rhesus, with several of his officers, and seize the famous horses of
that prince, with which they return in triumph to the camp.
The same night continues: the scene lies in the two camps.
ALL night the chiefs before their vessels lay,
And lost in sleep the labours of the day;
All but the king: with various thoughts oppress'd,
His country's cares lay rolling in his breast.
As when by lightnings, Jove's ethereal power
Foretells the rattling hail or weighty shower,
Or sends soft snows to whiten all the shore,
Or bids the brazen throat of war to roar;
By fits one flash succeeds as one expires,
And heaven flames thick with momentary fires;
So bursting frequent from Atrides' breast,
Sighs following sighs his inward fears confess'd.
Now o'er the fields, dejected, he surveys
From thousand Trojan fires the mounting blaze,
Hears in the passing wind their music blow,
And marks distinct the voices of the foe.
Now looking backwards to the fleet and coast,
Anxious he sorrows for th' endanger'd host.
He rends his hair in sacrifice to Jove,
And sues to him that ever lives above:
Inly he groans; while glory and despair
Divide his heart, and wage a doubtful war.
A thousand cares his labouring breast revolves:
To seek sage Nestor now the chief resolves;
With him, in wholesome counsels, to debate
What yet remains to save th' afflicted state.
He rose; and first he cast his mantle round,
Next on his feet the shining sandals bound;
A lion's yellow spoils his back conceal'd;
His warlike hand a pointed javelin held.
Meanwhile, his brother, press'd with equal woes,
Alike denied the gifts of soft repose,
Laments for Greece; that in his cause before
So much had suffer'd, and must suffer more.
A leopard's spotted hide his shoulders spread,
A brazen helmet glitter'd on his head:
Thus (with a javelin his hand) he went
To wake Atrides in the royal tent.
Already waked, Atrides he descried,
His armour buckling at his vessel's side.
Joyful they met; the Spartan thus begun :
Why puts my brother his bright armour on?
Sends he some spy, amidst these silent hours,
To try yon camp, and watch the Trojan powers?
But say, what hero shall sustain that task,
Such bold exploits uncommon courage ask?
Guideless, alone, through night's dark shade to go,
And 'midst a hostile camp explore the foe."
To whom the king: "In such distress we stand,
No vulgar counsels our affairs demand:
Greece to preserve is now no easy part,
But asks high wisdom, deep design, and art.
For Jove, averse, our humble prayer denies,
And bows his head to Hector's sacrifice.
What eye has witness'd, or what ear believed,
In one great day, by one great arm achieved,
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