The Duel of Menelaus and Paris.
The Armies being ready to engage, a fingle combat is agreed upon between Menelaus and Paris (by the intervention of Hector) for the determination of the war. Iris is fent to call Helena to behold the fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam fat with his counsellors, obferving the Grecian leaders on the plain below, to whom Helen gives an account of the chief of them. The kings on either part take the folemn oath for the conditions of the combat. The duel enfues; wherein Paris being overcome, he is fnatched away in a cloud by Venus, and transported to his apartment. She then calls Helen from the walls, and brings the lovers together. Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians, demands the restoration of Helen, and the performance of the articles.
The three and twentieth day ftill continues throughout this book. The fcene is fometimes in the Fields Before Troy, and fometimes in Troy itself.
Moves into ranks, and stretches o'er the land.
With fhouts the Trojans rufhing from afar,
Proclaim their motions, and provok'd the war;
So when inclement winter vex the plain
With piercing frofts, or thick-descending rain,
To warmer feas, the Cranes embody'd fly,
With noife, and order, through the mid-way sky;
To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring,
And all the war defcends upon the wing.
But filent, breathing rage, refolv'd and skill'd
By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field,
Swift march the Greeks: the rapid dust around
Darkening arifes from the labour'd ground.
Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds
A night of vapours round the mountain-heads,
Swift gliding mifts the dusky fields invade,
To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade;
While scarce the fwains their feeding flocks furvey,
Loft and confus'd amidst the thicken'd day :
So, wrapt in gathering duft, the Grecian train,
A moving cloud, fwept on, and hid the plain.
Now front to front the hoftile armies ftand,
Eager of fight, and only wait command;
When, to the van, before the fons of fame
Whom Troy fent forth, the beauteous Paris came,
In form a God! the panther's fpeckled hide
Flow'd o'er his armour with an easy pride,
His bended bow across his fhoulders flung,
His fword befide him negligently hung,
Two pointed spears he fhook with gallant grace,
And dar'd the braveft of the Grecian race.
As thus, with glorious air and proud disdain,
He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain,
Him Menelaus, lov'd of Mars, espies,
With heart elated, and with joyful eyes:
So joys a lion, if the branching deer,
Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear;
Eager he feizes and devours the flain,
Preft by bold youths and baying dogs in vain.
Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound,
In clanging arms he leaps upon the ground
From his high chariot: him, approaching near,
The beauteous champion views with marks of fear;
Smit with a confcious fenfe, retires behind,
And fhuns the fate he well deferv'd to find.
As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees
Shot forth to view, a fcaly ferpent fees;
Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright,
And all confus'd precipitates his flight:
So from the king the shining warriour flies,
And plung'd amid the thickest Trojans lies,
As God-like Hector fees the prince retreat, He thus upbraids him with a generous heat: Unhappy Paris! but to women brave!
So fairly form'd, and only to deceive!
Oh, hadst thou died when first thou faw'ft the light,
Or died at least before thy nuptial rite!
A better fate than vainly thus to boast,
And fly, the fcandal of the Trojan host.
Gods! how the fcornful Greeks exult to fee
Their fears of danger undeceiv'd in thee!
Thy figure promis'd with a martial air,
But ill thy foul supplies a form so fair.
In former days, in all thy gallant pride
When thy tall ships triumphant stemm'd the tide,
When Greece beheld thy painted canvass flow,
And crowds stood wondering at the paffing fhow;
Say, was it thus, with fuch a baffled mien,
You met th' approaches of the Spartan queen,
Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize,
And both her warlike lords outfhin'd in Helen's eyes?
This deed, thy foes delight, thy own disgrace,
Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race;
This deed recalls thee to the proffer'd fight;
Or haft thou injur'd whom thou dar'st not right?
Soon to thy cost the field would make thee know
Thou keep'ft the confort of a braver foe.
Thy graceful form inftilling foft defire,
Thy curling treffes, and thy filver lyre,
Beauty and youth; in vain to these you trust,
When youth and beauty fhall be laid in dust:
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