The Iliad Of Homer: Translated Into English Blank Verse: Book VI.

ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH BOOK.     The battle is continued. The Trojans being closely pursued, Hector by the advice of Helenus enters Troy, and recommends it to Hecuba to go in solemn procession to the temple of Minerva; she with the matrons goes accordingly. Hector takes the opportunity to find out Paris, and exhorts him to return to the field of battle. An interview succeeds between Hector and Andromache, and Paris, having armed himself in the mean time, comes up with Hector at the close of it, when they sally from the gate together.      Thus was the field forsaken by the Gods.      And now success proved various; here the Greeks      With their extended spears, the Trojans there      Prevail'd alternate, on the champain spread      The Xanthus and the Simos between.[1]      First Telamonian Ajax,[2] bulwark firm      Of the Achaians, broke the Trojan ranks,      And kindled for the Greeks a gleam of hope,      Slaying the bravest of the Thracian band,      Huge Acamas, Eusorus' son; him first      Full on the shaggy crest he smote, and urged      The spear into his forehead; through his skull      The bright point pass'd, and darkness veil'd his eyes.      But Diomede, heroic Chief, the son      Of Teuthras slew, Axylus.[3] Rich was he,      And in Arisba (where he dwelt beside      The public road, and at his open door      Made welcome all) respected and beloved.      But of his numerous guests none interposed      To avert his woful doom; nor him alone      He slew, but with him also to the shades      Calesius sent, his friend and charioteer.      Opheltius fell and Dresus, by the hand      Slain of Euryalus, who, next, his arms      On Pedasus and on sepus turned      Brethren and twins. Them Abarbarea bore,      A Naiad, to Bucolion, son renown'd      Of King Laomedon, his eldest born,      But by his mother, at his birth, conceal'd.      Bucolion pasturing his flocks, embraced      The lovely nymph; she twins produced, both whom,      Brave as they were and beautiful, thy son[4]      Mecisteus! slew, and from their shoulders tore      Their armor. Dauntless Polypoetes slew      Astyalus. Ulysses with his spear      Transfixed Pydites, a Percosian Chief,      And Teucer Aretan; Nestor's pride      Antilochus, with his bright lance, of life      Bereft Ablerus, and the royal arm      Of Agamemnon, Elatus; he dwelt      Among the hills of lofty Pedasus,      On Satnio's banks, smooth-sliding river pure      Phylacus fled, whom Letus as swift      Soon smote. Melanthius at the feet expired      Of the renown'd Eurypylus, and, flush'd      With martial ardor, Menelaus seized      And took alive Adrastus. As it chanced      A thicket his affrighted steeds detain'd      Their feet entangling; they with restive force      At its extremity snapp'd short the pole,      And to the city, whither others fled,      Fled also. From his chariot headlong hurl'd,      Adrastus press'd the plain fast by his wheel.      Flew Menelaus, and his quivering spear      Shook over him; he, life imploring, clasp'd      Importunate his knees, and thus exclaim'd.      Oh, son of Atreus, let me live! accept      Illustrious ransom! In my father's house      Is wealth abundant, gold, and brass, and steel      Of truest temper, which he will impart      Till he have gratified thine utmost wish,      Inform'd that I am captive in your fleet.      He said, and Menelaus by his words      Vanquish'd, him soon had to the fleet dismiss'd      Given to his train in charge, but swift and stern      Approaching, Agamemnon interposed.      Now, brother, whence this milkiness of mind,      These scruples about blood? Thy Trojan friends      Have doubtless much obliged thee. Die the race!      May none escape us! neither he who flies,      Nor even the infant in his mother's womb      Unconscious. Perish universal Troy      Unpitied, till her place be found no more![5]      So saying, his brother's mind the Hero turn'd,      Advising him aright; he with his hand      Thrust back Adrastus, and himself, the King,      His bowels pierced. Supine Adrastus fell,      And Agamemnon, with his foot the corse      Impressing firm, pluck'd forth his ashen spear.      Then Nestor, raising high his voice, exclaim'd.      Friends, Heroes, Grecians, ministers of Mars!      Let none, desirous of the spoil, his time      Devote to plunder now; now slay your foes,      And strip them when the field shall be your own.[6]      He said, and all took courage at his word.      Then had the Trojans enter'd Troy again      By the heroic Grecians foul repulsed,      So was their spirit daunted, but the son      Of Priam, Helenus, an augur far      Excelling all, at Hector's side his speech      To him and to neas thus address'd.      Hector, and thou, neas, since on you      The Lycians chiefly and ourselves depend,      For that in difficult emprize ye show      Most courage; give best counsel; stand yourselves,      And, visiting all quarters, cause to stand      Before the city-gates our scatter'd troops,      Ere yet the fugitives within the arms      Be slaughter'd of their wives, the scorn of Greece.      When thus ye shall have rallied every band      And roused their courage, weary though we be,      Yet since necessity commands, even here      Will we give battle to the host of Greece.      But, Hector! to the city thou depart;      There charge our mother, that she go direct,      With the assembled matrons, to the fane      Of Pallas in the citadel of Troy.      Opening her chambers' sacred doors, of all      Her treasured mantles there, let her select      The widest, most magnificently wrought,      And which she values most; that let her spread      On Athenan Pallas' lap divine.[7]      Twelve heifers of the year yet never touch'd      With puncture of the goad, let her alike      Devote to her, if she will pity Troy,      Our wives and little ones, and will avert      The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,      That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host,      Bravest, in my account, of all the Greeks.      For never yet Achilles hath himself      So taught our people fear, although esteemed      Son of a Goddess. But this warrior's rage      Is boundless, and his strength past all compare.      So Helenus; nor Hector not complied.      Down from his chariot instant to the ground      All arm'd he leap'd, and, shaking his sharp spears,      Through every phalanx pass'd, rousing again      Their courage, and rekindling horrid war.      They, turning, faced the Greeks; the Greeks repulsed,      Ceased from all carnage, nor supposed they less      Than that some Deity, the starry skies      Forsaken, help'd their foes, so firm they stood.      But Hector to the Trojans call'd aloud.      Ye dauntless Trojans and confederate powers      Call'd from afar! now be ye men, my friends,      Now summon all the fury of your might!      I go to charge our senators and wives      That they address the Gods with prayers and vows      For our success, and hecatombs devote.      So saying the Hero went, and as he strode      The sable hide that lined his bossy shield      Smote on his neck and on his ancle-bone.      And now into the middle space between      Both hosts, the son of Tydeus and the son      Moved of Hippolochus, intent alike      On furious combat; face to face they stood,      And thus heroic Diomede began.      Most noble Champion! who of human kind      Art thou,[8] whom in the man-ennobling fight      I now encounter first? Past all thy peers      I must esteem thee valiant, who hast dared      To meet my coming, and my spear defy.      Ah! they are sons of miserable sires      Who dare my might; but if a God from heaven      Thou come, behold! I fight not with the Gods.      That war Lycurgus son of Dryas waged,      And saw not many years. The nurses he      Of brain-disturbing Bacchus down the steep      Pursued of sacred Nyssa; they their wands      Vine-wreathed cast all away, with an ox-goad      Chastised by fell Lycurgus. Bacchus plunged      Meantime dismay'd into the deep, where him      Trembling, and at the Hero's haughty threats      Confounded, Thetis in her bosom hid.[9]      Thus by Lycurgus were the blessed powers      Of heaven offended, and Saturnian Jove      Of sight bereaved him, who not long that loss      Survived, for he was curst by all above.      I, therefore, wage no contest with the Gods;      But if thou be of men, and feed on bread      Of earthly growth, draw nigh, that with a stroke      Well-aim'd, I may at once cut short thy days.[10]      To whom the illustrious Lycian Chief replied.      Why asks brave Diomede of my descent?      For, as the leaves, such is the race of man.[11]      The wind shakes down the leaves, the budding grove      Soon teems with others, and in spring they grow.      So pass mankind. One generation meets      Its destined period, and a new succeeds.      But since thou seem'st desirous to be taught      My pedigree, whereof no few have heard,      Know that in Argos, in the very lap      Of Argos, for her steed-grazed meadows famed,      Stands Ephyra;[12] there Sisyphus abode,      Shrewdest of human kind; Sisyphus, named      olides. Himself a son begat,      Glaucus, and he Bellerophon, to whom      The Gods both manly force and beauty gave.      Him Proetus (for in Argos at that time      Proetus was sovereign, to whose sceptre Jove      Had subjected the land) plotting his death,      Contrived to banish from his native home.      For fair Anteia, wife of Proetus, mad      Through love of young Bellerophon, him oft      In secret to illicit joys enticed;      But she prevail'd not o'er the virtuous mind      Discrete of whom she wooed; therefore a lie      Framing, she royal Proetus thus bespake.      Die thou, or slay Bellerophon, who sought      Of late to force me to his lewd embrace.      So saying, the anger of the King she roused.      Slay him himself he would not, for his heart      Forbad the deed; him therefore he dismiss'd      To Lycia, charged with tales of dire import      Written in tablets,[13] which he bade him show,      That he might perish, to Anteia's sire.      To Lycia then, conducted by the Gods,      He went, and on the shores of Xanthus found      Free entertainment noble at the hands      Of Lycia's potent King. Nine days complete      He feasted him, and slew each day an ox.      But when the tenth day's ruddy morn appear'd,      He asked him then his errand, and to see      Those written tablets from his son-in-law.      The letters seen, he bade him, first, destroy      Chimra, deem'd invincible, divine      In nature, alien from the race of man,      Lion in front, but dragon all behind,      And in the midst a she-goat breathing forth      Profuse the violence of flaming fire.      Her, confident in signs from heaven, he slew.      Next, with the men of Solym[14] he fought,      Brave warriors far renown'd, with whom he waged,      In his account, the fiercest of his wars.      And lastly, when in battle he had slain      The man-resisting Amazons, the king      Another stratagem at his return      Devised against him, placing close-conceal'd      An ambush for him from the bravest chosen      In Lycia; but they saw their homes no more;      Bellerophon the valiant slew them all.      The monarch hence collecting, at the last,      His heavenly origin, him there detain'd,      And gave him his own daughter, with the half      Of all his royal dignity and power.      The Lycians also, for his proper use,      Large lot assigned him of their richest soil,[15]      Commodious for the vine, or for the plow.      And now his consort fair three children bore      To bold Bellerophon; Isandrus one,      And one, Hippolochus; his youngest born      Laodamia was for beauty such      That she became a concubine of Jove.      She bore Sarpedon of heroic note.      But when Bellerophon, at last, himself      Had anger'd all the Gods, feeding on grief      He roam'd alone the Aleian field, exiled,      By choice, from every cheerful haunt of man.      Mars, thirsty still for blood, his son destroy'd      Isandrus, warring with the host renown'd      Of Solym; and in her wrath divine      Diana from her chariot golden-rein'd      Laodamia slew. Myself I boast      Sprung from Hippolochus; he sent me forth      To fight for Troy, charging me much and oft      That I should outstrip always all mankind      In worth and valor, nor the house disgrace      Of my forefathers, heroes without peer      In Ephyra, and in Lycia's wide domain.      Such is my lineage; such the blood I boast.      He ceased. Then valiant Diomede rejoiced.      He pitch'd his spear, and to the Lycian Prince      In terms of peace and amity replied.      Thou art my own hereditary friend,      Whose noble grandsire was the guest of mine.[16]      For Oeneus, on a time, full twenty days      Regaled Bellerophon, and pledges fair      Of hospitality they interchanged.      Oeneus a belt radiant with purple gave      To brave Bellerophon, who in return      Gave him a golden goblet. Coming forth      I left the kind memorial safe at home.      A child was I when Tydeus went to Thebes,      Where the Achaians perish'd, and of him      Hold no remembrance; but henceforth, my friend,      Thine host am I in Argos, and thou mine      In Lycia, should I chance to sojourn there.      We will not clash. Trojans or aids of Troy      No few the Gods shall furnish to my spear,      Whom I may slaughter; and no want of Greeks      On whom to prove thy prowess, thou shalt find.      But it were well that an exchange ensued      Between us; take mine armor, give me thine,      That all who notice us may understand      Our patrimonial[17] amity and love.      So they, and each alighting, hand in hand      Stood lock'd, faith promising and firm accord.      Then Jove of sober judgment so bereft      Infatuate Glaucus that with Tydeus' son      He barter'd gold for brass, an hundred beeves      In value, for the value small of nine.      But Hector at the Scan gate and beech[18]      Meantime arrived, to whose approach the wives      And daughters flock'd of Troy, inquiring each      The fate of husband, brother, son, or friend.      He bade them all with solemn prayer the Gods      Seek fervent, for that wo was on the wing.      But when he enter'd Priam's palace, built      With splendid porticoes, and which within      Had fifty chambers lined with polish'd stone,      Contiguous all, where Priam's sons reposed      And his sons' wives, and where, on the other side.      In twelve magnificent chambers also lined      With polish'd marble and contiguous all,      The sons-in-law of Priam lay beside      His spotless daughters, there the mother queen      Seeking the chamber of Laodice,      Loveliest of all her children, as she went      Met Hector. On his hand she hung and said:      Why leavest thou, O my son! the dangerous field?      I fear that the Achaians (hateful name!)      Compass the walls so closely, that thou seek'st      Urged by distress the citadel, to lift      Thine hands in prayer to Jove? But pause awhile      Till I shall bring thee wine, that having pour'd      Libation rich to Jove and to the powers      Immortal, thou may'st drink and be refresh'd.      For wine is mighty to renew the strength      Of weary man, and weary thou must be      Thyself, thus long defending us and ours.      To whom her son majestic thus replied.      My mother, whom I reverence! cheering wine      Bring none to me, lest I forget my might.[19]      I fear, beside, with unwash'd hands to pour      Libation forth of sable wine to Jove,      And dare on none account, thus blood-defiled,[20]      Approach the tempest-stirring God in prayer.      Thou, therefore, gathering all our matrons, seek      The fane of Pallas, huntress of the spoil,      Bearing sweet incense; but from the attire      Treasured within thy chamber, first select      The amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought,      And which thou prizest most--then spread the gift      On Athenan Pallas' lap divine.      Twelve heifers also of the year, untouch'd      With puncture of the goad, promise to slay      In sacrifice, if she will pity Troy,      Our wives and little ones, and will avert      The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,      That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host.      Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane      Of the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while,      Seek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear,      Shall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn      And swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse      To Troy, to Priam, and to all his house;      Methinks, to see him plunged into the shades      For ever, were a cure for all my woes.      He ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged      Her maidens; they, incontinent, throughout      All Troy convened the matrons, as she bade.      Meantime into her wardrobe incense-fumed,      Herself descended; there her treasures lay,      Works of Sidonian women,[21] whom her son      The godlike Paris, when he cross'd the seas      With Jove-begotten Helen, brought to Troy.      The most magnificent, and varied most      With colors radiant, from the rest she chose      For Pallas; vivid as a star it shone,      And lowest lay of all. Then forth she went,      The Trojan matrons all following her steps.      But when the long procession reach'd the fane      Of Pallas in the heights of Troy, to them      The fair Theano ope'd the portals wide,      Daughter of Cisseus, brave Antenor's spouse,      And by appointment public, at that time,      Priestess of Pallas. All with lifted hands[22]      In presence of Minerva wept aloud.      Beauteous Theano on the Goddess' lap      Then spread the robe, and to the daughter fair      Of Jove omnipotent her suit address'd.      Goddess[23] of Goddesses, our city's shield,      Adored Minerva, hear! oh! break the lance      Of Diomede, and give himself to fall      Prone in the dust before the Scan gate.      So will we offer to thee at thy shrine,      This day twelve heifers of the year, untouch'd      By yoke or goad, if thou wilt pity show      To Troy, and save our children and our wives.      Such prayer the priestess offer'd, and such prayer      All present; whom Minerva heard averse.      But Hector to the palace sped meantime      Of Alexander, which himself had built,      Aided by every architect of name      Illustrious then in Troy. Chamber it had,      Wide hall, proud dome, and on the heights of Troy      Near-neighboring Hector's house and Priam's stood.      There enter'd Hector, Jove-beloved, a spear      Its length eleven cubits in his hand,      Its glittering head bound with a ring of gold.      He found within his chamber whom he sought,      Polishing with exactest care his arms      Resplendent, shield and hauberk fingering o'er      With curious touch, and tampering with his bow.[24]      Helen of Argos with her female train      Sat occupied, the while, to each in turn      Some splendid task assigning. Hector fix'd      His eyes on Paris, and him stern rebuked.      Thy sullen humors, Paris, are ill-timed.      The people perish at our lofty walls;      The flames of war have compass'd Troy around      And thou hast kindled them; who yet thyself      That slackness show'st which in another seen      Thou would'st resent to death. Haste, seek the field      This moment, lest, the next, all Ilium blaze.      To whom thus Paris, graceful as a God.      Since, Hector, thou hast charged me with a fault,      And not unjustly, I will answer make,      And give thou special heed. That here I sit,      The cause is sorrow, which I wish'd to soothe      In secret, not displeasure or revenge.      I tell thee also, that even now my wife      Was urgent with me in most soothing terms      That I would forth to battle; and myself,      Aware that victory oft changes sides,      That course prefer. Wait, therefore, thou awhile,      'Till I shall dress me for the fight, or go      Thou first, and I will overtake thee soon.      He ceased, to whom brave Hector answer none      Return'd, when Helen him with lenient speech      Accosted mild.[25] My brother! who in me      Hast found a sister worthy of thy hate,      Authoress of all calamity to Troy,      Oh that the winds, the day when I was born,      Had swept me out of sight, whirl'd me aloft      To some inhospitable mountain-top,      Or plunged me in the deep; there I had sunk      O'erwhelm'd, and all these ills had never been.      But since the Gods would bring these ills to pass,      I should, at least, some worthier mate have chosen,      One not insensible to public shame.      But this, oh this, nor hath nor will acquire      Hereafter, aught which like discretion shows      Or reason, and shall find his just reward.      But enter; take this seat; for who as thou      Labors, or who hath cause like thee to rue      The crime, my brother, for which Heaven hath doom'd      Both Paris and my most detested self      To be the burthens of an endless song?      To whom the warlike Hector huge[26] replied.      Me bid not, Helen, to a seat, howe'er      Thou wish my stay, for thou must not prevail.      The Trojans miss me, and myself no less      Am anxious to return. But urge in haste      This loiterer forth; yea, let him urge himself      To overtake me ere I quit the town.      For I must home in haste, that I may see      My loved Andromache, my infant boy,      And my domestics, ignorant if e'er      I shall behold them more, or if my fate      Ordain me now to fall by Grecian hands.      So spake the dauntless hero, and withdrew.      But reaching soon his own well-built abode      He found not fair Andromache; she stood      Lamenting Hector, with the nurse who bore      Her infant, on a turret's top sublime.      He then, not finding his chaste spouse within,      Thus from the portal, of her train inquired.      Tell me, ye maidens, whither went from home      Andromache the fair?[27] Went she to see      Her female kindred of my father's house,      Or to Minerva's temple, where convened      The bright-hair'd matrons of the city seek      To soothe the awful Goddess? Tell me true.      To whom his household's governess discreet.      Since, Hector, truth is thy demand, receive      True answer. Neither went she forth to see      Her female kindred of thy father's house,      Nor to Minerva's temple, where convened      The bright-haired matrons of the city seek      To soothe the awful Goddess; but she went      Hence to the tower of Troy: for she had heard      That the Achaians had prevail'd, and driven      The Trojans to the walls; she, therefore, wild      With grief, flew thither, and the nurse her steps      Attended, with thy infant in her arms.      So spake the prudent governess; whose words      When Hector heard, issuing from his door      He backward trod with hasty steps the streets      Of lofty Troy, and having traversed all      The spacious city, when he now approach'd      The Scan gate, whence he must seek the field,      There, hasting home again his noble wife      Met him, Andromache the rich-endow'd      Fair daughter of Etion famed in arms.      Etion, who in Hypoplacian Thebes      Umbrageous dwelt, Cilicia's mighty lord--      His daughter valiant Hector had espoused.      There she encounter'd him, and with herself      The nurse came also, bearing in her arms      Hectorides, his infant darling boy,      Beautiful as a star. Him Hector called      Scamandrios, but Astyanax[28] all else      In Ilium named him, for that Hector's arm      Alone was the defence and strength of Troy.      The father, silent, eyed his babe, and smiled.      Andromache, meantime, before him stood,      With streaming cheeks, hung on his hand, and said.      Thy own great courage will cut short thy days,      My noble Hector! neither pitiest thou      Thy helpless infant, or my hapless self,      Whose widowhood is near; for thou wilt fall      Ere long, assail'd by the whole host of Greece.      Then let me to the tomb, my best retreat      When thou art slain. For comfort none or joy      Can I expect, thy day of life extinct,      But thenceforth, sorrow. Father I have none;      No mother. When Cilicia's city, Thebes      The populous, was by Achilles sack'd.      He slew my father; yet his gorgeous arms      Stripp'd not through reverence of him, but consumed,      Arm'd as it was, his body on the pile,      And heap'd his tomb, which the Oreades,      Jove's daughters, had with elms inclosed around.[29]      My seven brothers, glory of our house,      All in one day descended to the shades;      For brave Achilles,[30] while they fed their herds      And snowy flocks together, slew them all.      My mother, Queen of the well-wooded realm      Of Hypoplacian Thebes, her hither brought      Among his other spoils, he loosed again      At an inestimable ransom-price,      But by Diana pierced, she died at home.      Yet Hector--oh my husband! I in thee      Find parents, brothers, all that I have lost.      Come! have compassion on us. Go not hence,      But guard this turret, lest of me thou make      A widow, and an orphan of thy boy.      The city walls are easiest of ascent      At yonder fig-tree; station there thy powers;      For whether by a prophet warn'd, or taught      By search and observation, in that part      Each Ajax with Idomeneus of Crete,      The sons of Atreus, and the valiant son      Of Tydeus, have now thrice assail'd the town.      To whom the leader of the host of Troy.      These cares, Andromache, which thee engage,      All touch me also; but I dread to incur      The scorn of male and female tongues in Troy,      If, dastard-like, I should decline the fight.      Nor feel I such a wish. No. I have learn'd      To be courageous ever, in the van      Among the flower of Ilium to assert      My glorious father's honor, and my own.      For that the day shall come when sacred Troy,      When Priam, and the people of the old      Spear-practised King shall perish, well I know.      But for no Trojan sorrows yet to come      So much I mourn, not e'en for Hecuba,      Nor yet for Priam, nor for all the brave      Of my own brothers who shall kiss the dust,      As for thyself, when some Achaian Chief      Shall have convey'd thee weeping hence, thy sun      Of peace and liberty for ever set.      Then shalt thou toil in Argos at the loom      For a task-mistress, and constrain'd shalt draw      From Hyperea's fount,[31] or from the fount      Messes, water at her proud command.      Some Grecian then, seeing thy tears, shall say--      "This was the wife of Hector, who excell'd      All Troy in fight when Ilium was besieged."      Such he shall speak thee, and thy heart, the while,      Shall bleed afresh through want of such a friend      To stand between captivity and thee.      But may I rest beneath my hill of earth      Or ere that day arrive! I would not live      To hear thy cries, and see thee torn away.      So saying, illustrious Hector stretch'd his arms      Forth to his son, but with a scream, the child      Fell back into the bosom of his nurse,      His father's aspect dreading, whose bright arms      He had attentive mark'd and shaggy crest      Playing tremendous o'er his helmet's height.      His father and his gentle mother laugh'd,[32]      And noble Hector lifting from his head      His dazzling helmet, placed it on the ground,      Then kiss'd his boy and dandled him, and thus      In earnest prayer the heavenly powers implored.      Hear all ye Gods! as ye have given to me,      So also on my son excelling might      Bestow, with chief authority in Troy.      And be his record this, in time to come,      When he returns from battle. Lo! how far      The son excels the sire! May every foe      Fall under him, and he come laden home      With spoils blood-stain'd to his dear mother's joy.      He said, and gave his infant to the arms      Of his Andromache, who him received      Into her fragrant bosom, bitter tears      With sweet smiles mingling; he with pity moved      That sight observed, soft touch'd her cheek, and said,      Mourn not, my loved Andromache, for me      Too much; no man shall send me to the shades      Of Tartarus, ere mine allotted hour,      Nor lives he who can overpass the date      By heaven assign'd him, be he base or brave.[33]      Go then, and occupy content at home      The woman's province; ply the distaff, spin      And weave, and task thy maidens. War belongs      To man; to all men; and of all who first      Drew vital breath in Ilium, most to me.[34]      He ceased, and from the ground his helmet raised      Hair-crested; his Andromache, at once      Obedient, to her home repair'd, but oft      Turn'd as she went, and, turning, wept afresh.      No sooner at the palace she arrived      Of havoc-spreading Hector, than among      Her numerous maidens found within, she raised      A general lamentation; with one voice,      In his own house, his whole domestic train      Mourn'd Hector, yet alive; for none the hope      Conceived of his escape from Grecian hands,      Or to behold their living master more.      Nor Paris in his stately mansion long      Delay'd, but, arm'd resplendent, traversed swift      The city, all alacrity and joy.      As some stall'd horse high-fed, his stable-cord      Snapt short, beats under foot the sounding plain,      Accustomed in smooth-sliding streams to lave      Exulting; high he bears his head, his mane      Undulates o'er his shoulders, pleased he eyes      His glossy sides, and borne on pliant knees      Shoots to the meadow where his fellows graze;      So Paris, son of Priam, from the heights      Of Pergamus into the streets of Troy,      All dazzling as the sun, descended, flush'd      With martial pride, and bounding in his course.      At once he came where noble Hector stood      Now turning, after conference with his spouse,      When godlike Alexander thus began.      My hero brother, thou hast surely found      My long delay most irksome. More dispatch      Had pleased thee more, for such was thy command.      To whom the warlike Hector thus replied.      No man, judicious, and in feat of arms      Intelligent, would pour contempt on thee      (For thou art valiant) wert thou not remiss      And wilful negligent; and when I hear      The very men who labor in thy cause      Reviling thee, I make thy shame my own.      But let us on. All such complaints shall cease      Hereafter, and thy faults be touch'd no more,      Let Jove but once afford us riddance clear      Of these Achaians, and to quaff the cup      Of liberty, before the living Gods. * * * * * It may be observed, that Hector begins to resume his hope of success, and his warlike spirit is roused again, as he approaches the field of action. The depressing effect of his sad interview is wearing away from his mind, and he is already prepared for the battle with Ajax, which awaits him. The student who has once read this book, will read it again and again. It contains much that is addressed to the deepest feelings of our common nature, and, despite of the long interval of time which lies between our age and the Homeric--despite the manifold changes of customs, habits, pursuits, and the advances that have been made in civilization and art--despite of all these, the universal spirit of humanity will recognize in these scenes much of that true poetry which delights alike all ages, all nations, all men.--FELTON.