University of Virginia Library


815

THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.

As Homer's Invention is in nothing more wonderful than in the great Variety of Characters with which his Poems are diversify'd, so his Judgment appears in nothing more exact, than in that Propriety with which each Character is maintain'd. But this Exactness must be collected by a diligent Attention to his Conduct thro' the whole: and when the Particulars of each Character are laid together, we shall find them all proceeding from the same Temper and Disposition of the Person. If this Observation be neglected, the Poet's Conduct will lose much of its true Beauty and Harmony.

I fancy it will not be unpleasant to the Reader, to consider the Picture of Agamemnon drawn by so masterly an Hand as that of Homer in its full length, after having seen him in several Views and Lights since the beginning of the Poem.

He is a Master of Policy and Stratagem, and maintains a good Understanding with his Council; which was but necessary considering how many different and independent Nations and Interests he had to manage: He seems fully conscious of his own superior Authority, and always knows the time when to exert it: He is personally very valiant, but not without some Mixture of Fierceness: Highly resentful of the Injuries done his Family, even more than Menelaus himself: Warm both in his Passions and Affections, particularly in the Love he bears his Brother. In short, he is (as Homer himself in another Place describes him) both a good King, and a great Warrior.

Αμφοτερον, βασιλευς τ' αγαθος, κρατερος τ' αιχμητης.

It is very observable how this Hero rises in the Eye and Esteem of the Reader as the Poem advances: It opens with many Circumstances very much to the Disadvantage of his Character; he insults the Priest of Apollo, and outrages Achilles: but in the second Book he grows sensible of the Effects of his Rashness, and takes the Fault entirely upon himself: In the fourth he shews himself a skilful Commander, by exhorting, reproving and performing all the Offices of a good General: In the eighth he is deeply touch'd by the Sufferings of his Army, and makes all the Peoples Calamities his own: In the ninth he endeavours to reconcile himself to Achilles, and condescends to be the Petitioner, because it is for the publick Good: In the tenth, finding those Endeavours ineffectual, his Concern keeps him the whole Night awake, in contriving all possible Methods to assist them: And now in the eleventh as it were resolving himself to supply the want of Achilles, he grows prodigiously in his Valour, and performs Wonders in his single Person.

Thus we see Agamemnon continually winning upon our Esteem, as we grow acquainted with him; so that he seems to be like that Goddess the Poet describes, who was low at the first, but rising by degrees, at last reaches the very Heavens.


816

The ARGUMENT.

The third Battel, and the Acts of Agamemnon.

Agamemnon having arm'd himself, leads the Grecians to Battel: Hector prepares the Trojans to receive them; while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva give the Signals of War. Agamemnon bears all before him; and Hector is commanded by Jupiter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline the Engagement, till the King shall be wounded and retire from the Field. He then makes a great Slaughter of the Enemy; Ulysses and Diomed put a stop to him for a while; but the latter being wounded by Paris is obliged to desert his Companion, who is encompass'd by the Trojans, wounded, and in the utmost danger, till Menelaus and Ajax rescue him. Hector comes against Ajax, but that Hero alone opposes Multitudes, and rallies the Greeks. In the mean time Machaon, in the other Wing of the Army, is pierced with an Arrow by Paris, and carry'd from the Fight in Nestor's Chariot. Achilles (who overlook'd the Action from his Ship) sends Patroclus to enquire which of the Greeks was wounded in that manner? Nestor entertains him in his Tent with an Account of the Accidents of the Day, and a long Recital of some former Wars which he remember'd, tending to put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight for his Countrymen, or at least to permit him to do it, clad in Achilles's Armour. Patroclus in his Return meets Eurypilus also wounded, and assists him in that Distress.

This Book opens with the eight and twentieth Day of the Poem; and the same Day, with its various Actions and Adventures, is extended thro' the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, and part of the eighteenth, Books. The Scene lies in the Field near the Monument of Ilus.


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The Saffron Morn, with early Blushes spread,
Now rose refulgent from Tithonus' Bed;
With new-born Day to gladden mortal Sight,
And gild the Courts of Heav'n with sacred Light.

Verse 5. When baleful Eris , &c.] With what a wonderful Sublimity does the Poet begin this Book? He awakens the Reader's Curiosity, and sounds an Alarm to the approaching Battel. With what Magnificence does he usher in the Deeds of Agamemnon: He seems for a while to have lost all view of the main Battel, and lets the whole Action of the Po'em stand still, to attend the Motions of this single Hero. Instead of an Herald, he brings down a Goddess to inflame the Army; instead of a Trumpet or such warlike Musick, Juno and Minerva thunder over the Field of Battel: Jove rains down Drops of Blood, and averts his Eyes from such a Scene of Horrors.

By the Goddess Erïs is meant that Ardour and Impatience for the Battel which now inspir'd the Grecian Army: They who just before were almost in Despair, now burn for the Fight, and breath nothing but War. Eustathius.

When baleful Eris, sent by Jove's Command,

The Torch of Discord blazing in her Hand,

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Thro' the red Skies her bloody Sign extends,
And, wrapt in Tempests, o'er the Fleets descends.
High on Ulysses' Bark her horrid Stand
She took, and thunder'd thro' the Seas and Land.
Ev'n Ajax and Achilles heard the Sound,
Whose Ships remote the guarded Navy bound.
Thence the black Fury thro' the Grecian Throng

Verse 14. Orthian Song.] This is a kind of an Odaic Song, invented and sung on purpose to fire the Soul to noble Deeds in War. Such was that of Timotheus before Alexander the Great, which had such an Influence upon him, that he leap'd from his Seat and laid hold on his Arms. Eustathius.

With Horror sounds the loud Orthian Song:

The Navy shakes, and at the dire Alarms
Each Bosom boils, each Warrior starts to Arms.
No more they sigh, inglorious to return,
But breathe Revenge, and for the Combat burn.
The King of Men his hardy Host inspires
With loud Command, with great Example fires;
Himself first rose, himself before the rest
His mighty Limbs in radiant Armour drest.
And first he cas'd his manly Legs around
In shining Greaves, with silver Buckles bound:
The beaming Cuirass next adorn'd his Breast,

Verse 26. King Cinyras .] 'Tis probable this Passage of Cinyras King of Cyprus alludes to a true History; and what makes it the more so, is that this Island was famous for its Mines of several Metals. Eustathius.

The same which once King Cinyras possest:


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(The Fame of Greece and her assembled Host
Had reach'd that Monarch on the Cyprian Coast;
'Twas then, the Friendship of the Chief to gain,
This glorious Gift he sent, nor sent in vain.)
Ten Rows of azure Steel the Work infold,
Twice ten of Tin, and twelve of ductile Gold;
Three glitt'ring Dragons to the Gorget rise,
Whose imitated Scales against the Skies

Verse 35. Arching bow'd. &c.] Eustathius observes, that the Poet intended to represent the bending Figure of these Serpents, as well as their Colour, by comparing them to Rainbows. Dacier observes here how close a Parallel this Passage of Homer bears to that in Genesis, where God tells Noah, I have set my Bow in the Clouds, that it may be for a Sign of the Covenant between me and the Earth.

Reflected various Light, and arching bow'd,

Like colour'd Rainbows o'er a show'ry Cloud:
(Jove's wond'rous Bow, of three celestial Dyes,
Plac'd as a Sign to Man amid the Skies.)
A radiant Baldrick, o'er his Shoulder ty'd,
Sustain'd the Sword that glitter'd at his side:
Gold was the Hilt, a silver Sheath encas'd
The shining Blade, and golden Hangers grac'd.
His Buckler's mighty Orb was next display'd,
That round the Warrior cast a dreadful Shade;
Ten Zones of Brass its ample Brims surround,
And twice ten Bosses the bright Convex crown'd;

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Tremendous Gorgon frown'd upon its Field,
And circling Terrors fill'd th'expressive Shield:
Within its Concave hung a silver Thong,
On which a mimic Serpent creeps along,
His azure Length in easy Waves extends,
Till in three Heads th'embroider'd Monster ends.
Last o'er his Brows his fourfold Helm he plac'd,
With nodding Horse-hair formidably grac'd;
And in his Hands two steely Javelins wields,
That blaze to Heav'n, and lighten all the Fields.
That instant, Juno and the martial Maid
In happy Thunders promis'd Greece their Aid;
High o'er the Chief they clash'd their Arms in Air,
And leaning from the Clouds, expect the War.
Close to the Limits of the Trench and Mound,
The fiery Coursers to their Chariots bound

Verse 63. The Foot, and those who wield The lighter Arms, rush forward.] Here we see the Order of Battel is inverted, and opposite to that which Nestor proposed in the fourth Book: For it is the Cavalry which is there sustain'd by the Infantry; here the Infantry by the Cavalry. But to deliver my Opinion, I believe it was the Nearness of the Enemy that obliged Agamemnon to change the Disposition of the Battel: He would break their Battalions with his Infantry, and complete their Defeat by his Cavalry, which should fall upon the Flyers. Dacier.

The Squires restrain'd: The Foot, with those who wield

The lighter Arms, rush'd forward to the Field.
To second these, in close Array combin'd,
The Squadrons spread their sable Wings behind.

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Now Shouts and Tumults wake the tardy Sun,
As with the Light the Warriors Toils begun.
Ev'n Jove, whose Thunder spoke his Wrath, distill'd

Verse 70. Red Drops of Blood.] These Prodigies with which Homer embellishes his Poetry, are the same with those which History relates not as Ornaments, but as Truths. Nothing is more common in History than Showers of Blood, and Philosophy gives us the Reason of them: The two Battels which had been fought on the Plains of Troy, had so drench'd them with Blood, that a great Quantity of it might be exhal'd in Vapours and carry'd into the Air, and being there condens'd, fall down again in Dews and Drops of the same Colour. Eustathius.

Red Drops of Blood o'er all the fatal Field;

The Woes of Men unwilling to survey,
And all the Slaughters that must stain the Day.
Near Ilus' Tomb, in Order rang'd around,
The Trojan Lines possess'd the rising Ground.
There wise Polydamas and Hector stood;
Æneas, honour'd as a guardian God;
Bold Polybus, Agenor the divine;
The Brother-Warriors of Antenor's Line;
With youthful Acamas, whose beauteous Face
And fair Proportion match'd th'etherial Race.
Great Hector, cover'd with his spacious Shield,
Plies all the Troops, and orders all the Field.

Verse 83. As the red Star.] We have just seen at full length the Picture of the General of the Greeks: Here we see Hector beautifully drawn in Miniature. This proceeded from the great Judgment of the Poet: 'twas necessary to speak fully of Agamemnon, who was to be the chief Hero of this Battel, and briefly of Hector, who had so often been spoken of at large before. This is an Instance that the Poet well knew when to be concise, and when to be copious. It is impossible that any thing should be more happily imagin'd than this Similitude: It is so lively, that we see Hector sometimes shining in Arms at the Head of his Troops: and then immediately lose Sight of him, while he retires in the Ranks of the Army. Eustathius.

As the red Star now shows his sanguine Fires

Thro' the dark Clouds, and now in Night retires;
Thus thro' the Ranks appear'd the Godlike Man,
Plung'd in the Rear, or blazing in the Van;

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While streamy Sparkles, restless as he flies,
Flash from his Arms as Light'ning from the Skies.

Verse 89. As sweating Reapers.] 'Twill be necessary for the understanding of this Similitude, to explain the Method of Mowing in Homer's Days: They mowed in the same manner as they plowed, beginning at the Extremes of the Field, which was equally divided, and proceeding till they met in the middle of it. By this means they rais'd an Emulation between both Parties, which should finish their Share first. If we consider this Custom, we shall find it a very happy Comparison to the two Armies advancing against each other, together with an exact Resemblance in every Circumstance the Poet intended to illustrate.

As sweating Reapers in some wealthy Field,

Rang'd in two Bands, their crooked Weapons wield,
Bear down the Furrows, till their Labours meet;
Thick fall the heapy Harvests at their Feet.
So Greece and Troy the Field of War divide,
And falling Ranks are strow'd on ev'ry side.
None stoop'd a Thought to base inglorious Flight;
But Horse to Horse, and Man to Man they fight.
Not rabid Wolves more fierce contest their Prey;
Each wounds, each bleeds, but none resign the Day.
Discord with Joy the Scene of Death descries,
And drinks large Slaughter at her sanguin Eyes:
Discord alone, of all th'immortal Train,
Swells the red Horrors of this direful Plain:
The Gods in peace their golden Mansions fill,
Rang'd in bright Order on th'Olympian Hill;
But gen'ral Murmurs told their Griefs above,
And each accus'd the partial Will of Jove.

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Mean-while apart, superior, and alone,
Th'eternal Monarch, on his awful Throne,
Wrapt in the Blaze of boundless Glory sate;
And fix'd, fulfill'd the just Decrees of Fate.
On Earth he turn'd his all-consid'ring Eyes,
And mark'd the Spot where Ilion's Tow'rs arise;
The Sea with Ships, the Fields with Armies spread,
The Victor's Rage, the dying, and the dead.
Thus while the Morning-Beams increasing bright
O'er Heav'ns pure Azure spread the growing Light,
Commutual Death the Fate of War confounds,
Each adverse Battel goar'd with equal Wounds.

Verse 119. What time in some sequester'd Vale The weary Woodman, &c.] One may gather from hence, that in Homer's Time they did not measure the Day by Hours, but by the Progression of the Sun; and distinguish'd the Parts of it by the most noted Employments; as in the 12 of the Odysseis, V. 439. from the rising of the Judges, and here from the dining of the Labourer.

It may perhaps be entertaining to the Reader to see a general Account of the Mensuration of Time among the Ancients, which I shall take from Spondanus. At the beginning of the World it is certain there was no Distinction of Time but by the Light and Darkness, and the whole Day was included in the general Terms of the Evening and the Morning. Munster makes a pretty Observation upon this Custom: Our long-liv'd Forefathers (says he) had not so much occasion to be exact Observers how the Day pass'd, as their frailer Sons, whose Shortness of Life makes it necessary to distinguish every Part of Time, and suffer none of it to slip away without their Observation.

It is not improbable but that the Chaldæans, many Ages after the Flood, were the first who divided the Day into Hours; they being the first who applied themselves with any Success to Astrology. The most ancient Sun-dial we read of is that of Achaz, mention'd in the second Book of Kings, Ch. 20. about the Time of the building of Rome: But as these were of no use on clouded Days and in the Night, there was another Invention of measuring the Parts of Time by Water; but that not being sufficiently exact, they laid it aside for another by Sand.

'Tis certain the Use of Dials was earlier among the Greeks than the Romans; 'twas above three hundred Years after the building of Rome before they knew any thing of them: But yet they had divided the Day and Night into twenty four Hours, as appears from Varro and Macrobius, tho' they did not count the Hours as we do, numerically, but from Midnight to Midnight, and distinguish'd them by particular Names, as by the Cock crowing, the Dawn, the Midday, &c. The first Sun-dial we read of among the Romans which divided the Day into Hours, is mention'd by Pliny, lib. 1. cap. 20. fixt upon the Temple of Quirinus by L. Papyrius the Censor, about the 12th Year of the Wars with Pyrrhus. But the first that was of any Use to the Publick was set up near the Rostra in the Forum by Valerius Messala the Consul, after the taking of Catana in Sicily; from whence it was brought thirty Years after the first had been set up by Papyrius; but this was still an imperfect one, the Lines of it not exactly corresponding with the several Hours. Yet they made use of it many Years, till Q. Marcius Philippus placed another by it greatly improved: but these had still one common Defect of being useless in the Night, and when the Skies were overcast. All these Inventions being thus ineffectual, Scipio Nasica some Years afterwards measur'd the Day and Night into Hours from the dropping of Water.

Yet near this time, it may be gather'd that Sun-dials were very frequent in Rome, from a Fragment preserv'd by Aulus Gellius and ascrib'd to Plautus: The Lines are so beautiful, that I cannot deny the Reader the Satisfaction of seeing them. They are supposed to be spoken by an hungry Parasite, upon a Sight of one of these Dials.

Ut illum Dii perdant, primus qui horas repperit;
Quique adeo primus statuit heic solarium:
Qui mihi comminuit misero, articulatim, diem!
Nam me puero uterus hic erat solarium,
Multo omnium istorum optimum & verissumum,
Ubi iste monebat esse, nisi cum nihil erat.
Nunc etiam quod est, non est, nisi Soli lubet:
Itaque adeo jam oppletum est oppidum solariis,
Major pars populi aridi reptant fame.

We find frequent mention of the Hours in the Course of this Poem; but to prevent any Mistake, it may not be improper to take notice, that they must always be understood to mean the Seasons, and not the Division of the Day by Hours.

But now (what time in some sequester'd Vale

The weary Wood-man spreads his sparing Meal,
When his tir'd Arms refuse the Axe to rear,
And claim a Respite from the Sylvan War;
But not till half the prostrate Forests lay
Stretch'd in long Ruin, and expos'd to Day)

Verse 125. The Greeks impulsive Might.] We had just before seen that all the Gods were withdrawn from the Battel; that Jupiter was resolv'd even against the Inclinations of them all to honour the Trojans. Yet we here see the Greeks breaking thro' them: The Love the Poet bears to his Countrymen makes him aggrandize their Valour, and over-rule even the Decrees of Fate. To vary his Battels, he supposes the Gods to be absent this Day; and they are no sooner gone, but the Courage of the Greeks prevails, even against the Determination of Jupiter. Eustathius.

Then, nor till then, the Greeks impulsive Might

Pierc'd the black Phalanx, and let in the Light.

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Great Agamemnon then the Slaughter led,
And slew Bienor at his People's Head:
Whose Squire Oïleus, with a sudden spring,
Leap'd from the Chariot to revenge his King,
But in his Front he felt the fatal Wound,
Which pierc'd his Brain, & stretch'd him on the Ground:
Atrides spoil'd, and left them on the Plain;
Vain was their Youth, their glitt'ring Armour vain:

Verse 135. Naked to the Sky.] Eustathius refines upon this Place, and believes that Homer intended, by particularizing the Whiteness of the Limbs, to ridicule the effeminate Education of these unhappy Youths. But as such an Interpretation may be thought below the Majesty of an Epic Poem, and a kind of Barbarity to insult the unfortunate, I thought it better to give the Passage an Air of Compassion. As the Words are equally capable of either meaning, I imagin'd the Reader would be more pleas'd with the Humanity of the one, than with the Satyr of the other.

Now soil'd with Dust, and naked to the Sky,

Their snowy Limbs and beauteous Bodies lie.
Two Sons of Priam next to Battel move,
The Product one of Marriage, one of Love;
In the same Car the Brother-Warriors ride,
This took the charge to combat, that to guide:
Far other Task! than when they wont to keep
On Ida's Tops, their Father's fleecy Sheep.

Verse 143. These on the Mountains once Achilles found.] Homer, says Eustathius, never lets any Opportunity pass of mentioning the Hero of his Poem, Achilles: He gives here an Instance of his former Resentment, and at once varies his Poetry, and exalts his Character. Nor does he mention him cursorily; he seems unwilling to leave him; and when he pursues the Thread of the Story in a few Lines, takes occasion to speak again of him. This is a very artful Conduct, by mentioning him so frequently, he takes care that the Reader should not forget him, and shews the Importance of that Hero, whose Anger is the Subject of his Poem. Eustathius.

These on the Mountains once Achilles found,

And captive led, with pliant Osiers bound;
Then to their Sire for ample Sums restor'd;
But now to perish by Atrides' Sword:

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Pierc'd in the Breast the base-born Isus bleeds;
Cleft thro' the Head, his Brother's Fate succeeds.
Swift to the Spoil the hasty Victor falls,
And stript, their Features to his Mind recalls.
The Trojans see the Youths untimely die,
But helpless tremble for themselves, and fly.
So when a Lion, ranging o'er the Lawns,
Finds, on some grassy Lare, the couching Fawns,
Their Bones he cracks, their reeking Vitals draws,
And grinds the quiv'ring Flesh with bloody Jaws;
The frighted Hind beholds, and dares not stay,
But swift thro' rustling Thickets bursts her way;
All drown'd in Sweat the panting Mother flies,
And the big Tears roll trickling from her Eyes.
Amidst the Tumult of the routed Train,
The Sons of false Antimachus were slain;
He, who for Bribes his faithless Counsels sold,
And voted Helen's Stay, for Paris' Gold.
Atrides mark'd as these their Safety sought,
And slew the Children for the Father's Fault;

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Their headstrong Horse unable to restrain,
They shook with Fear, and drop'd the silken Rein;
Then in their Chariot, on their Knees they fall,
And thus with lifted Hands for Mercy call.
Oh spare our Youth, and for the Life we owe,
Antimachus shall copious Gifts bestow;
Soon as he hears, that not in Battel slain,
The Grecian Ships his captive Sons detain,
Large Heaps of Brass in Ransome shall be told,
And Steel well-temper'd, and persuasive Gold.
These Words, attended with a Flood of Tears,
The Youths address'd to unrelenting Ears:
The vengeful Monarch gave this stern Reply;
If from Antimachus ye spring, ye die:

Verse 182. Antimachus, who once in Council stood To shed Ulysses and my Brother's Blood.] 'Tis observable that Homer with a great deal of Art interweaves the true History of the Trojan War in his Poem: He here gives a Circumstance that carries us back from the tenth Year of the War to the very beginning of it. So that altho' the Action of the Poem takes up but a small Part of the last Year of the War, yet by such Incidents as these we are taught a great many Particulars that happen thro' the whole Series of it. Eustathius.

The daring Wretch who once in Council stood

To shed Ulysses' and my Brother's Blood,
For proffer'd Peace! And sues his Seed for Grace?
No, die, and pay the Forfeit of your Race.
This said, Pisander from the Car he cast,
And pierc'd his Breast: supine he breath'd his last.

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His Brother leap'd to Earth; but as he lay,

Verse 188. Lopp'd his Hands away.] I think one cannot but compassionate the Fate of these Brothers, who suffer for the Sins of their Father, notwithstanding the Justice which the Commentators find in this Action of Agamemnon. And I can much less imagine that his cutting off their Hands was meant for an express Example against Bribery, in Revenge for the Gold which Antimachus had received from Paris. Eustathius is very refining upon this Point; but the grave Spondanus out-does them all, who has found there was an excellent Conceit in cutting off the Hands and Head of the Son; the first, because the Father had been for laying Hands on the Grecian Embassadors; and the second, because it was from his Head that the Advice proceeded of detaining Helena.

The trenchant Faulchion lopp'd his Hands away;

His sever'd Head was toss'd among the Throng,
And rolling, drew a bloody Trail along.
Then, where the thickest fought, the Victor flew;
The King's Example all his Greeks pursue.

Verse 193. Now by the Foot the flying Foot, &c.] After Homer with a poetical Justice has punish'd the Sons of Antimachus for the Crimes of the Father; he carries on the Narration, and presents all the Terrors of the Battel to our view: We see in the lively Description the Men and Chariots overthrown, and hear the Tramplings of the Horses Feet. Thus the Poet very artfully by such sudden Alarms awakens the Attention of the Reader, that is apt to be tired and grow remiss by a plain and more cool Narration.

Now by the Foot the flying Foot were slain,

Horse trod by Horse, lay foaming on the Plain.
From the dry Fields thick Clouds of Dust arise,
Shade the black Host, and intercept the Skies.

Verse 197. The Brass-hoof'd Steeds.] Eustathius observes that the Custom of shoeing Horses was in use in Homer's Time, and calls the Shoes σεληναια from the Figure of an Half-Moon.

The brass-hoof'd Steeds tumultuous plunge and bound,

And the thick Thunder beats the lab'ring Ground.
Still slaught'ring on, the King of Men proceeds;
The distanc'd Army wonders at his Deeds.
As when the Winds with raging Flames conspire,
And o'er the Forests roll the Flood of Fire,
In blazing heaps the Grove's old Honours fall,
And one refulgent Ruin levells all.
Before Atrides' Rage so sinks the Foe,
Whole Squadrons vanish, and proud Heads lie low.

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The Steeds fly trembling from his waving Sword;
And many a Car, now lighted of its Lord,
Wide o'er the Field with guideless Fury rolls,
Breaking their Ranks, and crushing out their Souls;
While his keen Faulchion drinks the Warriors Lives;

Verse 212. More grateful, now, to Vulturs than their Wives.] This is a Reflection of the Poet, and such an one as arises from a Sentiment of Compassion; and indeed there is nothing more moving than to see those Heroes, who were the Love and Delight of their Spouses, reduc'd suddenly to such a Condition of Horror, that their very Wives dare not look upon them. I was very much surprized to find a Remark of Eustathius upon this, which seems very wrong and unjust: He would have it that there is in this Place an Ellipsis, which comprehends a severe Raillery: “For, says he, Homer would imply that those dead Warriors were now more agreeable to Vulturs, than they had ever been in all their Days to their Wives. This is very ridiculous; to suppose that these unhappy Women did not love their Husbands, is to insult them barbarously in their Affliction; and every Body can see that such a Thought in this Place would have appear'd mean, frigid, and out of Season. Homer always endeavours to excite Compassion by the Grief of the Wives, whose Husbands are kill'd in the Battel. Dacier.

More grateful, now, to Vulturs than their Wives!

Perhaps great Hector then had found his Fate,
But Jove and Destiny prolong'd his Date.
Safe from the Darts, the Care of Heav'n he stood,
Amidst Alarms, and Deaths, and Dust, and Blood.

Verse 217. Now past the Tomb where ancient Ilus, lay.] By the Exactness of Homer's Description we see as in a Landscape the very Place where this Battel was fought. Agamemnon drives the Trojans from the Tomb of Ilus, where they encamp'd all the Night; that Tomb stood in the middle of the Plain: From thence he pursues them by the wild Fig-Tree to the Beech-Tree, and from thence to the very Scæan Gate. Thus the Scene of Action is fix'd, and we see the very Rout through which the one retreats and the other advances. Eustathius.

Now past the Tomb where ancient Ilus lay,

Thro' the mid Field the routed urge their way.
Where the wild Figs th'adjoining Summit crown,
That Path they take, and speed to reach the Town.
As swift Atrides, with loud Shouts pursu'd,
Hot with his Toil, and bath'd in hostile Blood.
Now near the Beech-tree, and the Scæan Gates,
The Hero haults, and his Associates waits.
Mean-while on ev'ry side, around the Plain,
Dispers'd, disorder'd, fly the Trojan Train.

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So flies a Herd of Beeves, that hear dismay'd
The Lion's roaring thro' the mid-night Shade;
On Heaps they tumble with successless haste;
The Savage seizes, draws, and rends the last:
Not with less Fury stern Atrides flew,
Still press'd the Rout, and still the hindmost slew;
Hurl'd from their Cars the bravest Chiefs are kill'd,
And Rage, and Death, and Carnage, load the Field.
Now storms the Victor at the Trojan Wall;
Surveys the Tow'rs, and meditates their Fall.
But Jove descending shook th'Idæan Hills,
And down their Summits pour'd a hundred Rills:
Th'unkindled Light'ning in his Hand he took,
And thus the many-colour'd Maid bespoke.

'Verse 241. Iris with haste thy golden Wings display.] Tis evident that some such Contrivance as this was necessary; The Trojans, we learn from the beginning of this Book, were to be victorious this Day: But if Jupiter had not now interpos'd, they had been driven even within the Walls of Troy. By this means also the Poet consults both for the Honour of Hector and that of Agamemnon. Agamemnon has time enough to shew the Greatness of his Valour, and it is no Disgrace to Hector not to encounter him when Jupiter interposes.

Eustathius observes, that the Poet gives us here a Sketch of what is drawn out at large in the Story of this whole Book: This he does to raise the Curiosity of the Reader, and make him impatient to hear those great Actions which must be perform'd before Agamemnon can retire, and Hector be victorious.

Iris, with haste thy golden Wings display,

To God-like Hector this our Word convey.
While Agamemnon wastes the Ranks around,
Fights in the Front, and bathes with Blood the Ground,
Bid him give way; but issue forth Commands,
And trust the War to less important Hands:

830

But when, or wounded by the Spear, or Dart,
That Chief shall mount his Chariot, and depart;
Then Jove shull string his Arm, and fire his Breast,
Then to her Ships shall flying Greece be press'd,
Till to the Main the burning Sun descend,
And sacred Night her awful Shade extend.
He spoke, and Iris at his Word obey'd;
On Wings of Winds descends the various Maid.
The Chief she found amidst the Ranks of War,
Close to the Bulwarks, on his glitt'ring Car.
The Goddess then: O Son of Priam hear!
From Jove I come, and his high Mandate bear.
While Agamemnon wastes the Ranks around,
Fights in the Front, and bathes with Blood the Ground,
Abstain from Fight; yet issue forth Commands,
And trust the War to less important Hands.
But when, or wounded by the Spear, or Dart,
The Chief shall mount his Chariot, and depart;
Then Jove shall string thy Arm, and fire thy Breast,
Then to her Ships shall flying Greece be prest,

831

Till to the Main the burning Sun descend,
And sacred Night her awful Shade extend.
She said, and vanish'd: Hector, with a Bound,
Vaults from his Chariot on the trembling Ground,
In clanging Arms: He grasps in either Hand
A pointed Lance, and speeds from Band to Band;
Revives their Ardour, turns their Steps from flight,
And wakes anew the dying Flames of Fight.
They stand to Arms: the Greeks their Onset dare,
Condense their Pow'rs, and wait the coming War.
New Force, new Spirit to each Breast returns;
The Fight renew'd with fiercer Fury burns:
The King leads on; all fix on him their Eye,
And learn from him, to conquer, or to die.

Verse 281. Ye sacred Nine!] The Poet to win the Attention of the Reader, and seeming himself to be struck with the Exploits of Agamemnon while he recites them, (who when the Battel was rekindled, rushes out to engage his Enemies) invokes not one Muse as he did in the beginning of the Poem; but as if he intended to warn us that he was about to relate something surprizing, he invokes the whole Nine; and then as if he had received their Inspiration, goes on to deliver what they suggested to him. By means of this Apostrophe, the Imagination of the Reader is so fill'd, that he seems not only present, but active in the Scene to which the Skill of the Poet has transported him. Eustathius.

Ye sacred Nine, Celestial Muses! tell,

Who fac'd him first, and by his Prowess fell?

Verse 283. Iphidamas the bold and young.] Homer here gives us the History of this Iphidamas, his Parentage, the Place of his Birth, and many Circumstances of his private Life. This he does to diversify his Poetry, and to soften with some amiable Embellishments the continual Horrors that must of Necessity strike the Imagination in an uninterrupted Narration of Blood and Slaughter. Eustathius.

The great Iphidamas, the bold and young;

From sage Antenor and Theano sprung;
Whom from his Youth his Grandsire Cisseus bred,
And nurs'd in Thrace where snowy Flocks are fed.

832

Scarce did the Down his rosy Cheeks invest,
And early Honour warm his gen'rous Breast,
When the kind Sire consign'd his Daughter's Charms

290. Theano's Sister.] That the Reader may not be shock'd at the Marriage of Iphidamas with his Mother's Sister, it may not be amiss to observe from Eustathius, that Consanguinity was no Impediment in Greece in the Days of Homer: Nor is Iphidamas singular in this kind of Marriage, for Diomed was married to his own Aunt as well as he.

(Theano's Sister) to his youthful Arms.

But call'd by Glory to the Wars of Troy,
He leaves untasted the first Fruits of Joy;
From his lov'd Bride departs with melting Eyes,
And swift to aid his dearer Country flies.
With twelve black Ships he reach'd Percope's Strand,
Thence took the long, laborious March by Land.
Now fierce for Fame, before the Ranks he springs,
Tow'ring in Arms, and braves the King of Kings.
Atrides first discharg'd the missive Spear;
The Trojan stoop'd, the Javelin pass'd in Air.
Then near the Corselet, at the Monarch's Heart,
With all his Strength the Youth directs his Dart;
But the broad Belt, with Plates of Silver bound,
The Point rebated, and repell'd the Wound.
Encumber'd with the Dart, Atrides stands,
Till grasp'd with Force, he wrench'd it from his Hands.

833

At once, his weighty Sword discharg'd a Wound
Full on his Neck, that fell'd him to the Ground.
Stretch'd in the Dust th'unhappy Warrior lies,
And Sleep eternal seals his swimming Eyes.
Oh worthy better Fate! oh early slain!
Thy Country's Friend; and virtuous, tho' in vain!
No more the Youth shall join his Consort's side,
At once a Virgin, and at once a Bride!
No more with Presents her Embraces meet,
Or lay the Spoils of Conquest at her Feet,
On whom his Passion, lavish of his Store,
Bestow'd so much, and vainly promis'd more!
Unwept, uncover'd, on the Plain he lay,
While the proud Victor bore his Arms away.
Coon, Antenor's eldest Hope, was nigh:
Tears, at the Sight, came starting from his Eye,
While pierc'd with Grief the much-lov'd Youth he view'd,
And the pale Features now deform'd with Blood.
Then with his Spear, unseen, his Time he took,
Aim'd at the King, and near his Elbow strook.

834

The thrilling Steel transpierc'd the brawny Part,
And thro' his Arm stood forth the barbed Dart.
Surpriz'd the Monarch feels, yet void of Fear
On Coon rushes with his lifted Spear:
His Brother's Corps the pious Trojan draws,
And calls his Country to assert his Cause,
Defends him breathless on the smoaking Field,
And o'er the Body spreads his ample Shield.
Atrides, marking an unguarded Part,
Transfix'd the Warrior with his brazen Dart;
Prone on his Brother's bleeding Breast he lay,
The Monarch's Faulchion lopp'd his Head away:
The social Shades the same dark Journey go,
And join each other in the Realms below.
The vengeful Victor rages round the Fields
With ev'ry Weapon, Art or Fury yields:
By the long Lance, the Sword, or pond'rous Stone,
Whole Ranks are broken, and whole Troops o'erthrown.
This, while yet warm, distill'd the purple Flood;
But when the Wound grew stiff with clotted Blood,

835

Then grinding Tortures his strong Bosom rend,

Verse 349. The fierce Ilythiæ .] These Ilythiæ are the Goddesses that Homer supposes to preside over Child-Birth: He arms their Hands with a kind of an Instrument, from which a pointed Dart is shot into the distressed Mother, as an Arrow is from a Bow: So that as Eris has her Torch and Jupiter his Thunder, these Goddesses have their Darts which they shoot into Women in Travail. He calls them the Daughters of Juno, because she presides over the Marriage-Bed. Eustathius. Here (says Dacier) we find the Style of the holy Scripture, which to express a severe Pain, usually compares it to that of Women in Labour. Thus David, Pain came upon them as upon a Woman in Travail; and Isaiah, They shall grieve as a Woman in Travail; and all the Prophets are full of the like Expressions.

Less keen those Darts the fierce Ilythiæ send,

(The Pow'rs that cause the teeming Matron's Throes,
Sad Mothers of unutterable Woes!)
Stung with the Smart, all panting with the Pain,
He mounts the Car, and gives his Squire the Rein:
Then with a Voice which Fury made more strong,
And Pain augmented, thus exhorts the Throng.
O Friends! O Greeks! assert your Honours won;
Proceed, and finish what this Arm begun:

Verse 358. Lo angry Jove forbids your Chief to stay.] Eustathius remarks upon the Behaviour of Agamemnon in his present Distress: Homer describes him as rack'd with almost intolerable Pains, yet he does not complain of the Anguish he suffers, but that he is obliged to retire from the Fight.

This indeed as it prov'd his undaunted Spirit, so did it likewise his Wisdom: Had he shew'd any unmanly Dejection, it would have dispirited the Army; but his Intrepidity makes them believe his Wound less dangerous, and renders them not so highly concern'd for the Absence of their General.

Lo! angry Jove forbids your Chief to stay,

And envies half the Glories of the Day.
He said; the Driver whirls his lengthful Thong;
The Horses fly; the Chariot smoaks along.
Clouds from their Nostrils the fierce Coursers blow,
And from their Sides the Foam descends in Snow;
Shot thro' the Battel in a Moment's Space,
The wounded Monarch at his Tent they place.
No sooner Hector saw the King retir'd,
But thus his Trojans and his Aids he fir'd.

836

Hear all ye Dardan, all ye Lycian Race!
Fam'd in close Fight, and dreadful Face to Face;
Now call to Mind your ancient Trophies won,
Your great Forefathers Virtues, and your own.
Behold, the Gen'ral flies! deserts his Pow'rs!
Lo Jove himself declares the Conquest ours!
Now on yon' Ranks impell your foaming Steeds;
And, sure of Glory, dare immortal Deeds.
With Words like these the fiery Chief alarms
His fainting Host, and ev'ry Bosom warms.
As the bold Hunter chears his Hounds to tear
The brindled Lion, or the tusky Bear,
With Voice and Hand provokes their doubting Heart,
And springs the foremost with his lifted Dart:
So God-like Hector prompts his Troops to dare,
Nor prompts alone, but leads himself the War.
On the black Body of the Foes he pours:
As from the Cloud's deep Bosom swell'd with Show'rs,
A sudden Storm the purple Ocean sweeps,
Drives the wild Waves, and tosses all the Deeps.

837

Verse 388. Say, Muse, when Jove the Trojan's Glory crown'd.] The Poet just before has given us an Invocation of the Muses, to make us attentive to the great Exploits of Agamemnon. Here we have one with regard to Hector, but this last may perhaps be more easily accounted for than the other. For in that, after so solemn an Invocation, we might reasonably have expected Wonders from the Hero: whereas in Reality he kills but one Man before he himself is wounded; and what he does afterwards seems to proceed from a frantic Valour, arising from the Smart of the Wound: We do not find by the Text that he kills one Man, but overthrows several in his Fury, and then retreats: So that one would imagine he invoked the Muses only to describe his Retreat.

But upon a nearer view, we shall find that Homer shews a commendable Partiality to his own Countryman and Hero Agamemnon: He seems to detract from the Greatness of Hector's Actions, by ascribing them to Jupiter; whereas Agamemnon conquers by the Dint of Bravery: And that this is a just Observation, will appear by what follows. Those Greeks that fall by the Sword of Hector, he passes over as if they were all vulgar Men: He says nothing of them but that they dy'd; and only briefly mentions their Names, as if he endeavour'd to conceal the Overthrow of the Greeks. But when he speaks of his favourite General Agamemnon, he expatiates and dwells upon his Actions; and shews us, that those that fell by his Hand were all Men of Distinction, such as were the Sons of Priam, of Antenor, and Antimachus. 'Tis true, Hector kill'd as many Leaders of the Greeks as Agamemnon of the Trojans, and more of the common Soldiers; but by particularizing the Deaths of the Chiefs of Troy, he sets the Deeds of Agamemnon in the strongest Point of Light, and by his Silence in respect to the Leaders whom Hector slew, he casts a Shade over the Greatness of the Action, and consequently it appears less conspicuous.

Say Muse! when Jove the Trojan's Glory crown'd,

Beneath his Arm what Heroes bit the Ground?
Assæus, Dolops, and Autonous dy'd,
Opites next was added to their side,
Then brave Hipponous fam'd in many a Fight,
Opheltius, Orus, sunk to endless Night,
Æsymnus, Agelaus; all Chiefs of Name;
The rest were vulgar Deaths, unknown to Fame.
As when a western Whirlwind, charg'd with Storms,
Dispells the gather'd Clouds that Notus forms;
The Gust continu'd, violent, and strong,
Rolls sable Clouds in Heaps on Heaps along;
Now to the Skies the foaming Billows rears,
Now breaks the Surge, and wide the bottom bares.
Thus raging Hector, with resistless Hands,
O'erturns, confounds, and scatters all their Bands.
Now the last Ruin the whole Host appalls;
Now Greece had trembled in her wooden Walls;

Verse 406. But wise Ulysses call'd Tydides forth.] There is something instructive in the most seemingly common Passages of Homer, who by making the wise Ulysses direct the brave Diomed in all the Enterprizes of the last Book, and by maintaining the same Conduct in this, intended to shew this Moral, that Valour should always be under the Guidance of Wisdom: Thus in the eighth Book when Diomed could scarce be restrain'd by the Thunder of Jupiter, Nestor is at hand to moderate his Courage; and this Hero seems to have made a very good use of those Instructions; his Valour no longer runs out into Rashness, tho' he is too brave to decline the Fight, yet he is too wise to fight against Jupiter.

But wise Ulysses call'd Tydides forth,

His Soul rekindled, and awak'd his Worth.

838

And stand we deedless, O eternal Shame!
Till Hector's Arm involve the Ships in Flame?
Haste, let us join, and combat side by side.
The Warrior thus, and thus the Friend reply'd.
No martial Toil I shun, no Danger fear;
Let Hector come; I wait his Fury here.
But Jove with Conquest crowns the Trojan Train;
And, Jove our Foe, all human Force is vain.
He sigh'd; but sighing, rais'd his vengeful Steel,
And from his Car the proud Thymbræus fell:
Molion, the Charioteer, pursu'd his Lord,
His Death ennobled by Ulysses' Sword.
There slain, they left them in eternal Night;
Then plung'd amidst the thickest Ranks of Fight.
So two wild Boars outstrip the foll'owing Hounds,
Then swift revert, and Wounds return for Wounds.
Stern Hector's Conquests in the middle Plain
Stood check'd a while, and Greece respir'd again.
The Sons of Merops shone amidst the War;
Tow'ring they rode in one refulgent Car:

839

In deep Prophetic Arts their Father skill'd,
Had warn'd his Children from the Trojan Field;
Fate urg'd them on; the Father warn'd in vain,
They rush'd to Fight, and perish'd on the Plain!
Their Breasts no more the vital Spirit warms;
The stern Tydides strips their shining Arms.
Hypirochus by great Ulysses dies,
And rich Hippodamus becomes his Prize.
Great Jove from Ide with Slaughter fills his Sight,
And level hangs the doubtful Scale of Fight.
By Tydeus' Lance Agastrophus was slain,
The far-fam'd Hero of Pæonian Strain;
Wing'd with his Fears, on Foot he strove to fly,
His Steeds too distant, and the Foe too nigh;
Thro' broken Orders, swifter than the Wind,
He fled, but flying, left his Life behind.
This Hector sees, as his experienc'd Eyes
Traverse the Files, and to the Rescue flies;
Shouts, as he past, the crystal Regions rend,
And moving Armies on his March attend.

840

Verse 448. Great Diomed himself was seiz'd with Fear.] There seems to be some Difficulty in these Words: This brave Warrior, who has frequently met Hector in the Battel, and offer'd himself for the single Combat, is here said to be seiz'd with Fear at the very Sight of him: This may be thought not to agree with his usual Behaviour, and to derogate from the general Character of his Intrepidity: But we must remember, that Diomed himself has but just told us, that Jupiter fought against the Grecians; and that all the Endeavours of himself and Ulysses would be in vain: This Fear therefore of Diomed is far from being dishonourable: it is not Hector, but Jupiter of whom he is afraid. Eustathius.

Great Diomed himself was seiz'd with Fear,

And thus bespoke his Brother of the War.
Mark how this way yon' bending Squadrons yield!
The Storm rolls on, and Hector rules the Field:
Here stand his utmost Force—The Warrior said;
Swift at the Word, his pondrous Javelin fled;
Nor miss'd its Aim, but where the Plumage danc'd,
Raz'd the smooth Cone, and thence obliquely glanc'd.
Safe in his Helm (the Gift of Phœbus' Hands)
Without a Wound the Trojan Hero stands;
But yet so stunn'd, that stagg'ring on the Plain,
His Arm and Knee his sinking Bulk sustain;
O'er his dim Sight the misty Vapours rise,
And a short Darkness shades his swimming Eyes.
Tydides follow'd to regain his Lance;
While Hector rose, recover'd from the Trance;
Remounts his Car, and herds amidst the Crowd;
The Greek pursues him, and exults aloud.
Once more thank Phœbus for thy forfeit Breath,
Or thank that Swiftness which outstrips the Death.

841

Well by Apollo are thy Pray'rs repaid,
And oft' that partial Pow'r has lent his Aid.
Thou shalt not long the Death deserv'd withstand,
If any God assist Tydides' Hand.
Fly then, inglorious! but thy Flight, this Day,
Whole Hecatombs of Trojan Ghosts shall pay.
Him, while he triumph'd, Paris ey'd from far,
(The Spouse of Helen, the fair Cause of War)
Around the Field his feather'd Shafts he sent,

Verse 477. Illis' Monument.] I thought it necessary just to put the Reader in mind that the Battel still continues near the Tomb of Ilus: By a just Observation of that, we may with Pleasure see the various Turns of the Fight, and how every Step of Ground is won or lost as the Armies are repuls'd or victorious.

From ancient Ilus' ruin'd Monument;

Behind the Column plac'd, he bent his Bow,
And wing'd an Arrow at th'unwary Foe;

Verse 480.

Just as he stoop'd, Agastrophus's Crest
To seize, and draw the Corselet from his Breast.

]

One would think that the Poet at all times endeavour'd to condemn the Practice of stripping the Dead, during the Heat of Action: He frequently describes the Victor wounded, while he is so employ'd about the Bodies of the slain: Thus in the present Book we see Agamemnon, Diomed, Ulysses, Elephenor, and Eurypylus, all suffer as they strip the Men they slew; and in the sixth Book he brings in the wise Nestor directly forbidding it. Eustathius.

Just as he stoop'd, Agastrophus's Crest

To seize, and drew the Corselet from his Breast.
The Bow-string twang'd; nor flew the Shaft in vain,

Verse 483. But pierc'd his Foot.] It cannot but be a Satisfaction to the Reader to see the Poet smitten with the Love of his Country, and at all times consulting its Honour: This Day was to be glorious to Troy, but Homer takes care to remove with Honour most of the bravest Greeks from the Field of Battel, before the Trojans can conquer. Thus Agamemnon, Diomed, and Ulysses must bleed, before the Poet can allow his Countrymen to retreat. Eusthathius.

But pierc'd his Foot, and nail'd it to the Plain.

Verse 484. The laughing Trojan .] Eustathius is of Opinion that the Poet intended to satyrize in this Place the unwarlike Behaviour of Paris: Such an effeminate Laugh and Gesture is unbecoming a brave Warrior, but agrees very well with the Character of Paris: He is before said to be more delighted with the soft amorous Lyre, than with the warlike Sound of the Battel: Nor do I remember that in the whole Iliad any one Person is describ'd in such an indecent Transport, tho' upon a much more glorious or successful Action. He concludes his ludicrous Insult with a Circumstance very much to the Honour of Diomed, and very much to the Disadvantage of his own Character, who reveals to an Enemy the Fears of Troy, and compares the Greeks to Lions, and the Trojans to Sheep. Diomed is the very reverse of him; he despises and lessens the Wound he receiv'd, and in the midst of his Pain, would not gratify his Enemy with the little Joy he might give him by letting him know it.

The laughing Trojan, with a joyful Spring

Leaps from his Ambush, and insults the King.
He bleeds! (he cries) some God has sped my Dart;
Would the same God had fixt it in his Heart!

842

So Troy reliev'd from that wide-wasting Hand
Shall breathe from Slaughter, and in combat stand,
Whose Sons now tremble at his darted Spear,
As scatter'd Lambs the rushing Lion fear.
He, dauntless, thus: Thou Conqu'ror of the Fair,
Thou Woman-warrior with the curling Hair;
Vain Archer! trusting to the distant Dart,
Unskill'd in Arms to act a manly Part!
Thou hast but done what Boys or Women can;
Such Hands may wound, but not incense a Man.
Nor boast the Scratch thy feeble Arrow gave,
A Coward's Weapon never hurts the Brave.
Not so this Dart, which thou may'st one Day feel;
Fate wings its Flight, and Death is on the Steel,
Where this but lights, some noble Life expires,
Its Touch makes Orphans, bathes the cheeks of Sires,
Steeps Earth in purple, gluts the Birds of Air,
And leaves such Objects as distract the Fair.
Ulysses hastens with a trembling Heart,
Before him steps, and bending draws the Dart:

843

Forth flows the Blood; an eager Pang succeeds;
Tydides mounts, and to the Navy speeds.
Now on the Field Ulysses stands alone,
The Greeks all fled, the Trojans pouring on:
But stands collected in himself and whole,

Verse 513. And questions thus his own unconquer'd Soul.] This is a Passage which very much strikes me: We have here a brave Hero making a noble Soliloquy, or rather calling a Council within himself, when he was singly to encounter an Army: 'Tis impossible for the Reader not to be in Pain for so gallant a Man in such an imminent Danger; he must be impatient for the Event, and his whole Curiosity must be awaken'd till he knows the Fate of Ulysses, who scorn'd to fly, tho' encompass'd by an Army.

And questions thus his own unconquer'd Soul.

What farther Subterfuge, what Hopes remain?
What Shame, inglorious if I quit the Plain;
What Danger, singly if I stand the Ground,
My Friends all scatter'd, all the Foes around?
Yet wherefore doubtful? Let this Truth suffice;
The Brave meets Danger, and the Coward flies:
To die, or conquer, proves a Hero's Heart;
And knowing this, I know a Soldier's Part.
Such Thoughts revolving in his careful Breast,
Near, and more near, the shady Cohorts prest;
These, in the Warrior, their own Fate inclose;
And round him deep the steely Circle grows.
So fares a Boar, whom all the Troop surrounds
Of shouting Huntsmen and of clam'rous Hounds;

844

He grinds his Iv'ry Tusks; he foams with Ire;
His sanguine Eyeballs glare with living Fire;
By these, by those, on ev'ry Part is ply'd;
And the red Slaughter spreads on ev'ry side.
Pierc'd thro' the Shoulder, first Deiopis fell;
Next Ennomus and Thoon sunk to Hell;
Chersidamas, beneath the Navel thrust,
Supinely falls, and grasps the bloody Dust.
Charops, the Son of Hippasus, was near;
Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal Spear;
But to his Aid his Brother Socus flies,
Socus, the brave, the gen'rous, and the wise:
Near as he drew, the Warrior thus began.
O great Ulysses, much-enduring Man!
Not deeper skill'd in ev'ry martial Slight,
Than worn to Toils, and active in the Fight!
This Day, two Brothers shall thy Conquest grace,
And end at once the great Hippasian Race,
Or thou beneath this Lance must press the Field—
He said, and forceful pierc'd his spacious Shield;

845

Thro' the strong Brass the ringing Javelin thrown,
Plow'd half his side, and bar'd it to the Bone.

Verse 550. By Pallas' Care.] It is a just Observation, that there is no Moral so evident, or so constantly carry'd on through the Iliad, as the Necessity Mankind at all times has of divine Assistance. Nothing is perform'd with Success, without particular mention of this; Hector is not sav'd from a Dart without Apollo, or Ulysses without Minerva. Homer is perpetually acknowledging the Hand of God in all Events, and ascribing to that only all the Victories, Triumphs, Rewards, or Punishments of Men. Thus the grand Moral he laid down at the Entrance of his Poem, Διος δ' ετελειετο βουλη, The Will of God was fulfill'd, runs thro' his whole Work, and is with a most remarkable Care and Conduct put into the Mouths of his greatest and wisest Persons on every Occasion.

Homer generally makes some peculiar God attend on each Hero: For the Ancients believ'd that every Man had his particular Tutelary Deity; these in succeeding Times were called Dæmons or Genii, who (as they thought) were given to Men at the Hour of their Birth, and directed the whole Course of their Lives. See Cebes's Tablet. Menander, as he is cited by Ammianus Marcellinus, styles them μυσταγωγοι βιου, the invisible Guides of Life.

By Pallas' Care, the Spear, tho' deep infix'd,

Stop'd short of Life, nor with his Entrails mix'd.
The Wound not mortal wise Ulysses knew,
Then furious thus, (but first some Steps withdrew.)
Unhappy Man! whose Death our Hand shall grace!
Fate calls thee hence, and finish'd is thy Race.
No longer check my Conquests on the Foe;
But pierc'd by this, to endless Darkness go,
And add one Spectre to the Realms below!
He spoke, while Socus seiz'd with sudden Fright,
Trembling gave way, and turn'd his Back to Flight,
Between his Shoulders pierc'd the following Dart,
And held its Passage thro' the panting Heart.
Wide in his Breast appear'd the grizly Wound;
He falls; his Armour rings against the Ground.
Then thus Ulysses, gazing on the Slain.

Verse 566. Fam'd Son of Hippasus .] Homer has been blam'd by some late Censurers for making his Heroes address Discourses to the Dead. Passion (says Dacier) dictates these Speeches, and it is generally to the dying, not to the dead, that they are address'd. However, one may say, that they are often rather Reflections than Insults. Were it otherwise, Homer deserves not to be censured for feigning what Histories have reported as Truth. We find in Plutarch that Mark Antony upon Sight of the dead Body of Brutus, stopp'd and reproach'd him with the Death of his Brother Caius, whom Brutus had kill'd in Macedonia in Revenge for the Murder of Cicero. I must confess I am not altogether pleas'd with the Railleries he sometimes uses to a vanquish'd Warrior, which Inhumanities if spoken to the dying, would I think be yet worse than after they were dead.

Fam'd Son of Hippasus! there press the Plain;

There ends thy narrow Span assign'd by Fate,
Heav'n owes Ulysses yet a longer Date.

846

Ah Wretch! no Father shall thy Corps compose,
Thy dying Eyes no tender Mother close,
But hungry Birds shall tear those Balls away,

Verse 572. And hov'ring Vulturs scream around their Prey.] This is not literally translated, what the Poet says gives us the most lively Picture imaginable of the Vulturs in the Act of tearing their Prey with their Bills: They beat the Body with their Wings as they rend it, which is a very natural Circumstance, but scarce possible to be copy'd by a Translator without losing the Beauty of it.

And hov'ring Vulturs scream around their Prey.

Verse 573. Me Greece shall honour when I meet my Doom, With solemn Funerals.—] We may see from such Passages as these that Honours paid to the Ashes of the dead have been greatly valued in all Ages: This posthumous Honour was paid as a publick Acknowledgment that the Person deceas'd had deserv'd well of his Country, and consequently was an Incitement to the living to imitate his Actions: In this view there is no Man but would be ambitious of them, not as they are Testimonies of Titles or Riches, but of distinguish'd Merit.

Me Greece shall honour, when I meet my Doom,

With solemn Fun'rals and a lasting Tomb.
Then raging with intolerable Smart,
He writhes his Body, and extracts the Dart.
The Dart a Tyde of spouting Gore pursu'd,
And gladden'd Troy with Sight of hostile Blood.
Now Troops on Troops the fainting Chief invade,
Forc'd he recedes, and loudly calls for Aid.
Thrice to its pitch his lofty Voice he rears;
The well-known Voice thrice Menelaus hears:
Alarm'd, to Ajax Telamon he cry'd,
Who shares his Labours, and defends his side.
O Friend! Ulysses' Shouts invade my Ear;
Distress'd he seems, and no Assistance near:
Strong as he is; yet, one oppos'd to all,
Oppress'd by Multitudes, the best may fall.

847

Greece, robb'd of him, must bid her Hosts despair,
And feel a Loss not Ages can repair.
Then, where the Cry directs, his Course he bends;

Verse 592. Great Ajax like the God of War attends.] The Silence of other Heroes on many Occasions is very beautiful in Homer, but peculiarly so in Ajax, who is a gallant rough Soldier, and readier to act than to speak: The present Necessity of Ulysses requir'd such a Behaviour, for the least Delay might have been fatal to him: Ajax therefore complying both with his own Inclinations, and the urgent Condition of Ulysses, makes no Reply to Menelaus, but immediately hastens to his Relief. The Reader will observe how justly the Poet maintains this Character of Ajax throughout the whole Iliad, who is often silent when he has an Opportunity to speak, and when he speaks, 'tis like a Soldier, with a martial Air, and always with Brevity. Eustathius.

Great Ajax, like the God of War, attends.

The prudent Chief in sore Distress they found,
With Bands of furious Trojans compass'd round.
As when some Huntsman with a flying Spear,
From the blind Thicket wounds a stately Deer;
Down his cleft Side while fresh the Blood distills,
He bounds aloft, and scuds from Hills to Hills:
Till Life's warm Vapour issuing thro' the Wound,
Wild Mountain-Wolves the fainting Beast surround;
Just as their Jaws his prostrate Limbs invade,
The Lion rushes thro' the woodland Shade,
The Wolves, tho' hungry, scour dispers'd away;
The Lordly Savage vindicates his Prey.
Ulysses thus, unconquer'd by his Pains,
A single Warrior, half an Host sustains:
But soon as Ajax heaves his Tow'r-like Shield,
The scatter'd Crowds fly frighted o'er the Field;

848

Atrides' Arm the sinking Hero stays,
And sav'd from Numbers, to his Car conveys.
Victorious Ajax plies the routed Crew;
And first Doryclus, Priam's Son, he slew,
On strong Pandocus next inflicts a Wound,
And lays Lysander bleeding on the Ground.
As when a Torrent, swell'd with wintry Rains,
Pours from the Mountains o'er the delug'd Plains,
And Pines and Oaks, from their Foundations torn,
A Country's Ruins! to the Seas are born:
Fierce Ajax thus o'erwhelms the yielding Throng,
Men, Steeds, and Chariots, roll in Heaps along.
But Hector, from this Scene of Slaughter far,
Rag'd on the left, and rul'd the Tyde of War:
Loud Groans proclaim his Progress thro' the Plain,
And deep Scamander swells with Heaps of Slain.
There Nestor and Idomeneus oppose
The Warrior's Fury, there the Battel glows;
There fierce on Foot, or from the Chariot's Height,
His Sword deforms the beauteous Ranks of Fight.

849

The Spouse of Helen dealing Darts around,
Had pierc'd Machaon with a distant Wound:
In his right Shoulder the broad Shaft appear'd,
And trembling Greece for her Physician fear'd.
To Nestor then Idomeneus begun;
Glory of Greece, old Neleus' valiant Son!
Ascend thy Chariot, haste with speed away,
And great Machaon to the Ships convey.

Verse 637. A wise Physician.] The Poet passes a very signal Commendation upon Physicians: The Army had seen several of the bravest of their Heroes wounded, yet were not so much dispirited for them all, as they were at the single Danger of Machaon: But the Person whom he calls a Physician, seems rather to be a Surgeon. The cutting out of Arrows, and applying Anodynes being the Province of the latter: However (as Eustathius says) we must conclude that Machaon was both a Physician and Surgeon, and that those two Professions were practised by one Person.

It is reasonable to think from the Frequency of their Wars, that the Profession in those Days was chiefly Chirurgical: Celsus says expressly that the Diætetic was long after invented; but that Botany was in great Esteem and Practice, appears from the Stories of Medea, Circe, &c. We often find mention among the most ancient Writers, of Women eminent in that Art; as of Agamede in this very Book, V. 740. who is said (like Solomon) to have known the Virtues of every Plant that grew on the Earth, and of Polydamne in the fourth Book of the Odysseis, V. 227, &c.

Homer, I believe, knew all that was known in his Time of the Practice of these Arts. His Methods of extracting of Arrows, stanching of Blood by the bitter Root, fomenting of Wounds with warm Water, applying proper Bandages and Remedies, are all according to the true Precepts of Art. There are likewise several Passages in his Works that shew his Knowledge of the Virtues of Plants, even of those Qualities which are commonly (tho 'perhaps erroneously) ascribed to them, as of the Moly against Enchantments, the Willow which causes Barrenness, the Nepenthe, &c.

A wise Physician, skill'd our Wounds to heal,

Is more than Armies to the publick Weal.
Old Nestor mounts the Seat: Beside him rode
The wounded Offspring of the healing God.
He lends the Lash; the Steeds with sounding Feet
Shake the dry Field, and thunder tow'rd the Fleet.
But now Cebriones, from Hector's Car,
Survey'd the various Fortune of the War.
While here (he cry'd) the flying Greeks are slain;
Trojans on Trojans yonder load the Plain.
Before great Ajax, see the mingled Throng
Of Men and Chariots driv'n in Heaps along!

850

I know him well, distinguish'd o'er the Field
By the broad glitt'ring of the sev'nfold Shield.
Thither, O Hector, thither urge thy Steeds;
There Danger calls, and there the Combat bleeds,
There Horse and Foot in mingled Deaths unite,
And Groans of Slaughter mix with Shouts of Fight.
Thus having spoke, the Driver's Lash resounds;
Swift thro' the Ranks the rapid Chariot bounds;
Stung by the Stroke, the Coursers scour the Fields
O'er Heaps of Carcasses, and Hills of Shields.
The Horses Hoofs are bath'd in Heroes Gore,
And dashing purple all the Car before,
The groaning Axle sable Drops distills,
And mangled Carnage clogs the rapid Wheels.
Here Hector plunging thro' the thickest Fight
Broke the dark Phalanx, and let in the Light.
(By the long Lance, the Sword, or pondrous Stone,
The Ranks lie scatter'd, and the Troops o'erthrown)
Ajax he shuns, thro' all the dire Debate,
And fears that Arm whose Force he felt so late.

851

Verse 669. But partial Jove , &c.] The Address of Homer in bringing off Ajax with Decency is admirable: He makes Hector afraid to approach him: He brings down Jupiter himself to terrify him; so that he retreats not from a Mortal, but a God.

This whole Passage is inimitably just and beautiful, we see Ajax drawn in the most bold and strong Colours, and in a manner alive in the Description. Wee see him slowly and sullenly retreat between two Armies, and even with a Look repulsing the one, and protecting the other: There is not one Line but what resembles Ajax; the Character of a stubborn but undaunted Warrior is perfectly maintain'd, and must strike the Reader at the first view. He compares him first to the Lion for his Undauntedness in Fighting, and then to the Ass for his stubborn Slowness in retreating; tho' in the latter Comparison there are many other Points of Likeness that enliven the Image: The Havock he makes in the Field is represented by the tearing and trampling down the Harvests; and we see the Bulk, Strength, and Obstinacy of the Hero, when the Trojans in respect to him are compared but to Troops of Boys that impotently endeavour to drive him away.

Eustathius is silent as to those Objections which have been rais'd against this last Simile, for a pretended Want of Delicacy: This alone is Conviction to me that they are all of a later Date: For else he would not have fail'd to have vindicated his favourite Poet in a Passage that had been applauded many hundreds of Years, and stood the Test of Ages.

But Monsieur Dacier has done it very well in his Remarks upon Aristotle. “In the time of Homer (says that Author) an Ass was not in such Circumstances of Contempt as in ours: The Name of that Animal was not then converted into a Term of Reproach, but it was a Beast upon which Kings and Princes might be seen with Dignity. And it will not be very discreet to ridicule this Comparison, which the holy Scripture has put into the Mouth of Jacob, who says in the Benediction of his Children, Issachar shall be as a strong Ass. Monsieur de la Motte gives up this Point, and excuses Homer for his Choice of this Animal, but is unhappily disgusted at the Circumstance of the Boys, and the obstinate Gluttony of the Ass, which he says are Images too mean to represent the determin'd Valour of Ajax, and the Fury of his Enemies. It is answer'd by Madam Dacier, that what Homer here images is not the Gluttony; but the Patience, the Obstinacy, and Strength of the Ass (as Eustathius had before observ'd.) To judge rightly of Comparisons, we are not to examine if the Subject from whence they are deriv'd be great or little, noble or familiar; but we are principally to consider if the Image produc'd be clear and lively, if the Poet has the Skill to dignify it by poetical Words, and if it perfectly paints the thing it is intended to represent. A Company of Boys whipping a Top is very far from a great and noble Subject, yet Virgil has not scrupled to draw from it a Similitude which admirably expresses a Princess in the Violence of her Passion.

Ceu quondam torto volitans sub verbere turbo,
Quem pueri magno in gyro vacua atria circum
Intenti ludo exercent; ille actus habena
Curvatis fertur spatiis: stupet inscia supra
Impubesque manus, mirata volubile buxum:
Dant animos plagæ—&c.
Æn. lib. 7.

However, upon the whole, a Translator owes so much to the Taste of the Age in which he lives, as not to make too great a Complement to a former; and this induced me to omit the mention of the word Ass in the Translation. I believe the Reader will pardon me, if on this Occasion I transcribe a Passage from Mr. Boileau's Notes on Longinus.

“There is nothing (says he) that more disgraces a Composition than the Use of mean and vulgar Words; insomuch that (generally speaking) a mean Thought express'd in noble Terms, is more tolerable than a noble Thought express'd in mean ones. The Reason whereof is, that all the World are not capable to judge of the Justness and Force of a Thought; but there's scarce any Man who cannot, especially in a living Language, perceive the least Meanness of Words. Nevertheless very few Writers are free from this Vice: Longinus accuses Herodotus, the most polite of all the Greek Historians, of this Defect; and Livy, Salust, and Virgil have not escaped the same Censure. Is it not then very surprizing, that no Reproach on this Account has been ever cast upon Homer? tho' he has compos'd two Poems each more voluminous than the Æneid; and tho' no Author whatever has descended more frequently than he into a Detail of little Particularities. Yet he never uses Terms which are not noble, or if he uses humble Words or Phrases, it is with so much Art and Industry, that, as Dionysius observes, they become noble and harmonious. Undoubtedly if there had been any Cause to charge him with this Fault, Longinus had spared him no more than Herodotus. We may learn from hence the Ignorance of those modern Criticks, who resolving to judge of the Greek without the Knowledge of it, and never reading Homer but in low and inelegant Translations, impute the Meannesses of his Translators to the Poet himself; and ridiculously blame a Man who spoke in one Language, for speaking what is not elegant in another. They ought to know that the Words of different Languages are not always exactly correspondent; and it may often happen that a Word which is very noble in Greek, cannot be render'd in another Tongue but by one which is very mean. Thus the word Asinus in Latin, and Ass in English, are the vilest imaginable, but that which signifies the same Animal in Greek and Hebrew, is of Dignity enough to be employed on the most magnificent Occasions. In like manner the Terms of a Hogherd and Cowkeeper in our Language are insufferable, but those which answer to them in Greek, συβωτης and βουκολος, are graceful and harmonious: and Virgil who in his own Tongue entitled his Eclogs Bucolica, would have been ashamed to have called them in ours, the Dialogues of Cowkeepers.

But partial Jove, espousing Hector's Part,

Shot heav'n-bred Horror thro' the Grecian's Heart;
Confus'd, unnerv'd in Hector's Presence grown,
Amaz'd he stood, with Terrors not his own.
O'er his broad Back his moony Shield he threw,
And glaring round, by tardy Steps withdrew.
Thus the grim Lion his Retreat maintains,
Beset with watchful Dogs, and shouting Swains,
Repuls'd by Numbers from the nightly Stalls,
Tho' Rage impells him, and tho' Hunger calls,
Long stands the show'ring Darts, and missile Fires;
Then sow'rly slow th'indignant Beast retires.
So turn'd stern Ajax, by whole Hosts repell'd,
While his swoln Heart at ev'ry Step rebell'd.
As the slow Beast with heavy Strength indu'd,
In some wide Field by Troops of Boys pursu'd,
Tho' round his Sides a wooden Tempest rain,
Crops the tall Harvest, and lays waste the Plain;
Thick on his Hide the hollow Blows resound,
The patient Animal maintains his Ground,

852

Scarce from the Field with all their Efforts chas'd,
And stirs but slowly when he stirs at last.
On Ajax thus a Weight of Trojans hung,
The Strokes redoubled on his Buckler rung;
Confiding now in bulky Strength he stands,
Now turns, and backward bears the yielding Bands;
Now stiff recedes, yet hardly seems to fly,
And threats his Followers with retorted Eye.
Fix'd as the Bar between two warring Pow'rs,
While hissing Darts descend in Iron Show'rs:
In his broad Buckler many a Weapon stood,
Its Surface bristled with a quiv'ring Wood;
And many a Javelin, guiltless on the Plain,
Prints the dry Dust, and thirsts for Blood in vain.
But bold Eurypylus his Aid imparts,
And dauntless springs beneath a Cloud of Darts;
Whose eager Javelin launch'd against the Foe,
Great Apisaon felt the fatal Blow;
From his torn Liver the red Current flow'd,
And his slack Knees desert their dying Load.

853

The Victor rushing to despoil the Dead,
From Paris' Bow a vengeful Arrow fled.
Fix'd in his nervous Thigh the Weapon stood,
Fix'd was the Point, but broken was the Wood.

Verse 713. Back to the Lines the wounded Greek retires.] We see here almost all the Chiefs of the Grecian Army withdrawn: Nestor and Ulysses, the two great Counsellors; Agamemnon, Diomed, and Eurypylus, the bravest Warriors; all retreated: So that now in this Necessity of the Greeks, there was occasion for the Poet to open a new Scene of Action, or else the Trojans had been victorious, and the Grecians driven from the Shores of Troy. To shew the Distress of the Greeks at this Period, from which the Poem takes a new Turn, 'twill be convenient to cast a View on the Posture of their Affairs: All human Aid is cut off by the Wounds of their Heroes, and all Assistance from the Gods forbid by Jupiter: Whereas the Trojans see their General at their Head, and Jupiter himself fights on their side. Upon this Hinge turns the whole Poem; the Distress of the Greeks occasions first the Assistance of Patroclus, and then the Death of that Hero draws on the Return of Achilles. It is with great Art that the Poet conducts all these Incidents: He lets Achilles have the Pleasure of seeing that the Greeks were no longer able to carry on the War without his Assistance: and upon this depends the great Catastrophe of the Poem. Eustathius.

Back to the Lines the wounded Greek retir'd,

Yet thus, retreating, his Associates fir'd.
What God, O Grecians! has your Hearts dismay'd?
Oh, turn to Arms; 'tis Ajax claims your Aid.
This Hour he stands the Mark of hostile Rage,
And this the last brave Battel he shall wage:
Haste, join your Forces; from the gloomy Grave
The Warrior rescue, and your Country save.
Thus urg'd the Chief; a gen'rous Troop appears,
Who spread their Bucklers, and advance their Spears,
To guard their wounded Friend: While thus they stand
With pious Care, great Ajax joins the Band:
Each takes new Courage at the Hero's Sight;
The Hero rallies, and renews the Fight.
Thus rag'd both Armies like conflicting Fires,
While Nestor's Chariot far from Fight retires:

854

His Coursers steep'd in Sweat, and stain'd with Gore,
The Greeks Preserver, great Machaon bore.

Verse 731. That Hour Achilles , &c.] Tho' the Resentment of Achilles would not permit him to be an Actor in the Battel, yet his Love of War inclines him to be a Spectator: And as the Poet did not intend to draw the Character of a perfect Man in Achilles, he makes him delighted with the Destruction of the Greeks, because it conspired with his Revenge: That Resentment which is the Subject of the Poem, still prevails over all his other Passions, even the Love of his Country; for tho' he begins now to pity his Countrymen, yet his Anger stifles those tender Emotions, and he seems pleas'd with their Distress, because he judges it will contribute to his Glory. Eustathius.

That Hour, Achilles from the topmost Height

Of his proud Fleet, o'erlook'd the Fields of Fight;
His feasted Eyes beheld around the Plain
The Grecian Rout, the slaying, and the slain.

Verse 735. His friend Machaon , &c.] It may be ask'd why Machaon is the only Person whom Achilles pities? Eustathius answers, that it was either because he was his Countryman, a Thessalian; or because Æsculapius, the Father of Machaon, presided over Physick, the Profession of his Preceptor Chiron. But perhaps it may be a better Reason to say that a Physician is a publick Good, and was valued by the whole Army; and it is not improbable but he might have cured Achilles of a Wound during the Course of the Trojan Wars.

His Friend Machaon singled from the rest,

A transient Pity touch'd his vengeful Breast.
Strait to Mænetius' much-lov'd Son he sent;
Graceful as Mars, Patroclus quits his Tent,
(In evil Hour! Then Fate decreed his Doom;
And fix'd the Date of all his Woes to come!)
Why calls my Friend? thy lov'd Injunctions lay,
Whate'er thy Will, Patroclus shall obey.
O first of Friends! (Pelides thus reply'd)
Still at my Heart, and ever at my Side!
The Time is come, when yon' despairing Host
Shall learn the Value of the Man they lost:

Verse 747. Now at my Knees the Greeks shall pour their Moan.] The Poet by putting these Words into the Mouth of Achilles, leaves room for a second Embassy, and (since Achilles himself mentions it) one may think it would not have been unsuccessful: But the Poet, by a more happy Management, makes his Friend Patroclus the Advocate of the Greeks, and by that means his Return becomes his own Choice. This Conduct admirably maintains the Character of Achilles, who does not assist the Greeks thro' his Kindness to them, but from a Desire of Revenge upon the Trojans: His present Anger for the Death of his Friend, blots out the former one for the Injury of Agamemnon; and as he separated from the Army in a Rage, so he joins it again in the like Disposition. Eustathius.

Now at my Knees the Greeks shall pour their Moan,

And proud Atrides tremble on his Throne.

855

Go now to Nestor, and from him be taught
What wounded Warrior late his Chariot brought?
For seen at distance, and but seen behind,
His Form recall'd Machaon to my Mind;
Nor could I, thro' yon' Cloud, discern his Face,
The Coursers past me with so swift a Pace.
The Hero said. His Friend obey'd with haste,
Thro' intermingled Ships and Tents, he past;
The Chiefs descending from their Car he found;
The panting Steeds Eurymedon unbound.
The Warriors standing on the breezy Shore,
To dry their Sweat, and wash away the Gore,
Here paus'd a moment, while the gentle Gale
Convey'd that Freshness the cool Seas exhale;
Then to consult on farther Methods went,

Verse 764. And took their Seats beneath the shady Tent.] The Poet here steals away the Reader from the Battel, and relieves him by the Description of Nestor's Entertainment. I hope to be pardon'd for having more than once repeated this Observation, which extends to several Passages of Homer. Without this Piece of Conduct, the Frequency and Length of his Battels might fatigue the Reader, who could not so long be delighted with continued Scenes of Blood.

And took their Seats beneath the shady Tent.

The Draught prescrib'd, fair Hecamede prepares,
Arsinous' Daughter, grac'd with golden Hairs:
(Whom to his aged Arms, a Royal Slave,
Greece, as the Prize of Nestor's Wisdom, gave)

856

A Table first with azure Feet she plac'd;
Whose ample Orb a brazen Charger grac'd:
Honey new-press'd, the sacred Flow'r of Wheat,
And wholsome Garlick crown'd the sav'ry Treat.
Next her white Hand an antique Goblet brings,

Verse 774. A Goblet sacred to the Pylian Kings.] There are some who can find out a Mystery in the plainest things; they can see what the Author never meant, and explain him into the greatest Obscurities. Eustathius here gives us a very extraordinary Instance of this Nature: The Bowl by an Allegory figures the World; the spherical Form of it represents its Roundness; the Greek word which signifies the Doves being spell'd almost like the Pleiades, is said to mean that Constellation; and because the Poet tells us the Bowl was studded with Gold, those Studs must needs imply the Stars.

A Goblet sacred to the Pylian Kings,

From eldest Times: emboss'd with Studs of Gold,
Two Feet support it, and four Handles hold;
On each bright Handle, bending o'er the Brink,
In sculptur'd Gold two Turtles seem to drink:

Verse 779. Yet heav'd with ease by him.] There has ever been a great Dispute about this Passage; nor is it apparent for what Reason the Poet should tell us that Nestor even in his old Age could more easily lift this Bowl than any other Man. This has drawn a great deal of Raillery upon the old Man, as if he had learnt to lift it by frequent Use, an Insinuation that Nestor was no Enemy to Wine. Others with more Justice to his Character have put another Construction upon the Words, which solves the Improbability very naturally. According to this Opinion the word which is usually supposed to signify another Man, is render'd another old Man, meaning Machaon, whose Wound made him incapable to lift it. This would have taken away the Difficulty without any Violence to the Construction. But Eustathius tells us, the Propriety of Speech would require the word to be, not αλλος but ετερος, when spoken but of two. But why then may it not signify any other old Men?

A massy Weight; yet heav'd with ease by him,

When the brisk Nectar overlook'd the Brim.
Temper'd in this, the Nymph of Form divine

Verse 782. Pours a large Potion.] The Potion which Hecamede here prepares for Machaon, has been thought a very extraordinary one in the Case of a wounded Person, and by some Criticks held in the same Degree of Repute with the Balsam of Fierabras in Don Quizot. But it is rightly observed by the Commentators, that Machaon was not so dangerously hurt, as to be obliged to a different Regimen from what he might use at another time. Homer had just told us that he stay'd on the Sea-side to refresh himself, and he now enters into a long Conversation with Nestor; neither of which would have been done by a Man in any great Pain or Danger: His Loss of Blood and Spirits might make him not so much in fear of a Feaver, as in want of a Cordial; and accordingly this Potion is rather alimentary than medicinal. If it had been directly improper in this Case, I cannot help fancying that Homer would not have fail'd to tell us of Machaon's rejecting it. Yet after all, some Answer may be made even to the grand Objection, that Wine was too inflammatory for a wounded Man. Hippocrates allows Wine in acute Cases, and even without Water in Cases of Indigestion. He says indeed in his Book of ancient Medicine, that the Ancients were ignorant both of the good and bad Qualities of Wine: and yet the Potion here prescrib'd will not be allow'd by Physicians to be an Instance that they were so; for Wine might be proper for Machaon not only as a Cordial, but as an Opiate. Asclepiades, a Physician who flourish'd at Rome in the Time of Pompey, prescribed Wine in Feavers, and even in Phrenzies to cause Sleep. Cælius Aurelianus, lib. 4. c. 14.

Pours a large Potion of the Pramnian Wine;

With Goat's-milk Cheese a flav'rous Taste bestows,
And last with Flour the smiling Surface strows.
This for the wounded Prince the Dame prepares;
The cordial Bev'rage rev'rend Nestor shares:
Salubrious Draughts the Warrior's Thirst allay,
And pleasing Conference beguiles the Day.

857

Mean time Patroclus, by Achilles sent,
Unheard approach'd, and stood before the Tent.
Old Nestor rising then, the Hero led
To his high Seat; the Chief refus'd, and said.
'Tis now no Season for these kind Delays;
The great Achilles with Impatience stays.
To great Achilles this Respect I owe;
Who asks what Hero, wounded by the Foe,
Was born from combat by thy foaming Steeds?
With Grief I see the great Machaon bleeds.
This to report, my hasty Course I bend;
Thou know'st the fiery Temper of my Friend.

Verse 801. Can then the Sons of Greece , &c.] It is customary with those who translate or comment on an Author, to use him as they do their Mistress; they can see no Faults, or rather convert his very Faults into Beauties; but I cannot be so partial to Homer, as to imagine that this Speech of Nestor's is not greatly blameable for being too long: He crouds Incident upon Incident, and when he speaks of himself, he expatiates upon his own great Actions, very naturally indeed to old Age, but unseasonably in the present Juncture. When he comes to speak of his killing the Son of Augeas, he is so pleas'd with himself, that he forgets the Distress of the Army, and cannot leave his favourite Subject till he has given us the Pedigree of his Relations, his Wife's Name, her Excellence, the Command he bore, and the Fury with which he assaulted him. These and many other Circumstances, as they have no visible Allusion to the Design of the Speech, seem to be unfortunately introduc'd. In short, I think they are not so valuable upon any other Account, as because they preserve a Piece of ancient History, which had otherwise been lost.

What tends yet farther to make this Story seem absurd, is what Patroclus said at the beginning of the Speech, that he had not leisure even to sit down; so that Nestor detains him in the Tent standing, during the whole Narration.

They that are of the contrary Opinion observe, that there is a great deal of Art in some Branches of the Discourse; that when Nestor tells Patroclus how he had himself disobey'd his Father's Commands for the sake of his Country, he says it to make Achilles reflect that he disobeys his Father by the contrary Behaviour: That what he did himself was to retaliate a small Injury, but Achilles by fighting may save the Grecian Army. He mentions the Wound of Agamemnon at the very beginning, with an Intent to give Achilles a little Revenge, and that he may know how much his greatest Enemy has suffer'd by his Absence. There are many other Arguments brought in the Defence of particular Parts; and it may not be from the Purpose to observe, that Nestor might designedly protract the Speech, that Patroclus might himself behold the Distress of the Army: Thus every Moment he detain'd him, enforced his Arguments, by the growing Misfortunes of the Greeks. Whether this was the Intention or not, it must be allowed that the Stay of Patroclus was very happy for the Greeks; for by this means he met Eurypylus wounded, who confirm'd him into a Certainty that their Affairs were desperate, without Achilles's Aid.

As for Nestor's second Story, it is much easier to be defended; it tends directly to the Matter in hand, and is told in such a manner as to affect both Patroclus and Achilles; the Circumstances are well adapted to the Person to whom they are spoken, and by repeating their Father's Instructions, he as it were brings them in, seconding his Admonitions.

Can then the Sons of Greece (the Sage rejoin'd)

Excite Compassion in Achilles' Mind?
Seeks he the Sorrows of our Host to know?
This is not half the Story of our Woe.
Tell him, not great Machaon bleeds alone,
Our bravest Heroes in the Navy groan,
Ulysses, Agamemnon, Diomed.
And stern Eurypylus, already bleed.

58

But ah! what flatt'ring Hopes I entertain?
Achilles heeds not, but derides our Pain;
Ev'n till the Flames consume our Fleet, he stays,
And waits the rising of the fatal Blaze.
Chief after Chief the raging Foe destroys;
Calm he looks on, and ev'ry Death enjoys.
Now the slow Course of all-impairing Time
Unstrings my Nerves, and ends my manly Prime;
Oh! had I still that Strength my Youth possess'd,
When this bold Arm th'Epeian Pow'rs oppress'd,

Verse 819. The Bulls of Elis in glad Triumph led.] Elis is the whole Southern Part of Peloponnesus, between Achaia and Messenia; it was originally divided into several Districts or Principalities, afterwards it was reduc'd to two; the one of the Elians, who were the same with the Epeians, the other of Nestor. This Remark is necessary for the understanding what follows. In Homer's Time the City Elis was not built. Dacier.

The Bulls of Elis in glad Triumph led,

And stretch'd the great Itymonæus dead!
Then, from my Fury fled the trembling Swains,
And ours was all the Plunder of the Plains:
Fifty white Flocks, full fifty Herds of Swine,
As many Goats, as many lowing Kine;
And thrice the Number of unrival'd Steeds,
All teeming Females, and of gen'rous Breeds.
These, as my first Essay of Arms, I won;
Old Neleus glory'd in his conqu'ring Son.

859

Thus Elis forc'd, her long Arrears restor'd,
And Shares were parted to each Pylian Lord.
The State of Pyle was sunk to last Despair,
When the proud Elians first commenc'd the War.
For Neleus' Sons Alcides' Rage had slain;
Of twelve bold Brothers, I alone remain!
Oppress'd, we arm'd; and now, this Conquest gain'd,
My Sire three hundred chosen Sheep obtain'd.
(That large Reprizal he might justly claim,
For Prize defrauded, and insulted Fame,

Verse 839. At the publick Course Detain'd his Chariot.] 'Tis said that these were particuliar Games, which Augeas had establish'd in his own State; and that the Olympic Games cannot be here understood, because Hercules did not institute them till he had kill'd this King, and deliver'd his Kingdom to Phyleus, whom his Father Augeas had banish'd. The Prizes of these Games of Augeas were Prizes of Wealth, as golden Tripods, &c. whereas the Prizes of the Olympic Games were only plain Chaplets of Leaves or Branches: Besides, 'tis probable Homer knew nothing of these Chaplets given at the Games, nor of the triumphal Crowns, nor of the Garlands wore at Feasts; if he had, he would some where or other have mentioned them. Eustathius.

When Elis' Monarch in the publick Course

Detain'd his Chariot and victorious Horse.)
The rest the People shar'd; my self survey'd
The just Partition, and due Victims pay'd.
Three Days were past, when Elis rose to War,
With many a Courser, and with many a Car;

Verse 845. The Sons of Actor .] These are the same whom Homer calls the two Molions, namely, Eurytus and Cteatus. Thryoëssa in the Lines following is the same Town which he calls Thryon in the Catalogue. The River Minyas is the same with Anygrus, about half way between Pylos and Thryoëssa, call'd Minyas from the Minyans who liv'd on the Banks of it. It appears from what the Poet says of the Time of their March, that it is half a Day's March between Pylos and Thryoëssa. Eustathius. Strabo, lib. 8.

The Sons of Actor at their Army's Head

(Young as they were) the vengeful Squadrons led.
High on a Rock fair Thryoëssa stands,
Our utmost Frontier on the Pylian Lands;

860

Not far the Streams of fam'd Alphæus flow;
The Stream they pass'd, and pitch'd their Tents below.
Pallas, descending in the Shades of Night,
Alarms the Pylians, and commands the Fight.
Each burns for Fame, and swells with martial Pride;
My self the foremost; but my Sire deny'd;
Fear'd for my Youth expos'd to stern Alarms;
And stopp'd my Chariot, and detain'd my Arms.
My Sire deny'd in vain: On foot I fled
Amidst our Chariots: For the Goddess led.
Along fair Arene's delightful Plain,
Soft Minyas rolls his Waters to the Main.
There, Horse and Foot, the Pylian Troops unite,
And sheath'd in Arms, expect the dawning Light.
Thence, e'er the Sun advanc'd his noonday Flame,
To great Alphæus' sacred Source we came.
There first to Jove our solemn Rites were paid;
An untam'd Heifer pleas'd the blue-ey'd Maid,
A Bull Alphæus; and a Bull was slain
To the blue Monarch of the wat'ry Main.

861

In Arms we slept, beside the winding Flood,
While round the Town the fierce Epeians stood.
Soon as the Sun, with all-revealing Ray,
Flam'd in the Front of Heav'n, and gave the Day;
Bright Scenes of Arms, and Works of War appear;
The Nations meet; there Pylos, Elis here.
The first who fell, beneath my Javelin bled;
King Augias' Son, and Spouse of Agamede:
(She that all Simple's healing Virtues knew,
And ev'ry Herb that drinks the Morning Dew.)
I seiz'd his Car, the Van of Battel led;
Th'Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled.
The Foe dispers'd, their bravest Warrior kill'd,
Fierce as a Whirlwind now I swept the Field:
Full fifty captive Chariots grac'd my Train;
Two Chiefs from each, fell breathless to the Plain.
Then Actor's Sons had dy'd, but Neptune shrouds
The youthful Heroes in a Veil of Clouds.
O'er heapy Shields, and o'er the prostrate Throng,
Collecting Spoils, and slaught'ring all along,

862

Thro' wide Buprasian Fields we forc'd the Foes,
Where o'er the Vales th'Olenian Rocks arose;
Till Pallas stopp'd us where Alisium flows.
Ev'n there, the hindmost of their Rear I slay,
And the same Arm that led, concludes the Day;
Then back to Pyle triumphant take my way.

Verse 895. There to high Jove were publick Thanks assign'd As first of Gods, to Nestor, of Mankind.] There is a Resemblance between this Passage and one in the sacred Scripture, where all the Congregation blessed the Lord God of their Fathers, and bowed down their Heads, and worshipped the Lord, and the King. 1 Chron. 29. 20.

There to high Jove were publick Thanks assign'd

As first of Gods, to Nestor, of Mankind.
Such then I was, impell'd by youthful Blood;
So prov'd my Valour for my Country's Good.
Achilles with unactive Fury glows,
And gives to Passion what to Greece he owes.
How shall he grieve, when to th'eternal Shade
Her Hosts shall sink, nor his the Pow'r to aid?
O Friend! my Memory recalls the Day,
When gath'ring Aids along the Grecian Sea,
I, and Ulysses, touch'd at Pthia's Port,
And enter'd Peleus' hospitable Court.
A Bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice,
And pour'd Libations on the flaming Thighs.

863

Thy self, Achilles, and thy rev'rend Sire
Menætius, turn'd the Fragments on the Fire.
Achilles sees us, to the Feast invites;
Social we sit, and share the genial Rites.
We then explain'd the Cause on which we came,
Urg'd you to Arms, and found you fierce for Fame.
Your ancient Fathers gen'rous Precepts gave;

Verse 916. Peleus said only this,—“My Son, be brave.] The Conciseness of this Advice is very beautiful; Achilles being hasty, active, and young, might not have burthen'd his Memory with a long Discourse: Therefore Peleus comprehends all his Instructions in one Sentence. But Menœtius speaks more largely to Patroclus, he being more advanc'd in Years, and mature in Judgment; and we see by the manner of the Expression, that he was sent with Achilles, not only as a Companion but as a Monitor, of which Nestor puts him in mind, to shew that it is rather his Duty to give good Advice to Achilles, than to follow his Caprice, and espouse his Resentment. Eustathius.

Peleus said only this,—“My Son! be brave.

Menœtius thus; “Tho' great Achilles shine
“In Strength superior, and of Race divine,
“Yet cooler Thoughts thy elder Years attend;
“Let thy just Counsels aid, and rule thy Friend.
Thus spoke your Father at Thessalia's Court;
Words now forgot, tho' now of vast Import.

Verse 923. Ah try the utmost, &c.] It may not be ungrateful to the Reader to see at one view the Aim and Design of Nestor's Speech. By putting Patroclus in mind of his Father's Injunctions, he provokes him to obey him by a like Zeal for his Country: By the mention of the Sacrifice, he reprimands him for a Breach of those Engagements to which the Gods were Witnesses: By saying that the very Arms of Achilles would restore the Fortunes of Greece, he makes a high Complement to that Hero, and offers a powerful Insinuation to Patroclus at the same time, by giving him to understand, that he may personate Achilles. Eustathius.

Ah! try the utmost that a Friend can say,

Such gentle Force the fiercest Minds obey;
Some fav'ring God Achilles' Heart may move;
Tho' deaf to Glory, he may yield to Love.
If some dire Oracle his Breast alarm,

Verse 928. If ought from Heav'n with—hold his saving Arm.] Nestor says this upon account of what Achilles himself spoke in the ninth Book; and it is very much to the Purpose, for nothing could sooner move Achilles than to make him think it was the general Report in the Army, that he shut himself up in his Tent for no other reason, but to escape Death, with which his Mother had threaten'd him in discovering to him the Decrees of the Destinies. Dacier.

If ought from Heav'n with-hold his saving Arm


864

Some Beam of Comfort yet on Greece may shine,
If thou but lead the Myrmidonian Line;
Clad in Achilles' Arms, if thou appear,
Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from War;
Press'd by fresh Forces her o'er-labour'd Train
Shall seek their Walls, and Greece respire again.
This touch'd his gen'rous Heart, and from the Tent
Along the Shore with hasty Strides he went;
Soon as he came, where, on the crouded Strand,
The publick Mart and Courts of Justice stand,
Where the tall Fleet of great Ulysses lies,
And Altars to the guardian Gods arise:
There sad he met the brave Evæmon's Son,
Large painful Drops from all his Members run,
An Arrow's Head yet rooted in his Wound,
The sable Blood in Circles mark'd the Ground.
As faintly reeling he confess'd the Smart;
Weak was his Pace, but dauntless was his Heart.
Divine Compassion touch'd Patroclus' Breast,
Who sighing, thus his bleeding Friend addrest.

865

Ah hapless Leaders of the Grecian Host!
Thus must ye perish on a barb'rous Coast?
Is this your Fate, to glut the Dogs with Gore,
Far from your Friends, and from your native Shore!
Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand?
Resists she yet the raging Hector's Hand!
Or are her Heroes doom'd to die with Shame,
And this the Period of our Wars and Fame?
Eurypylus replies: No more (my Friend)
Greece is no more! this Day her Glories end.
Ev'n to the Ships victorious Troy pursues,
Her Force encreasing, as her Toil renews.
Those Chiefs, that us'd her utmost Rage to meet,
Lie pierc'd with Wounds and bleeding in the Fleet.
But thou, Patroclus! act a friendly Part,
Lead to my Ships, and draw this deadly Dart;
With lukewarm Water wash the Gore away,
With healing Balms the raging Smart allay,
Such as sage Chiron, Sire of Pharmacy,
Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.

866

Verse 969. Of two fam'd Surgeons.] Tho' Podalirius is mention'd first for the sake of the Verse, both here and in the Catalogue, Machaon seems to be the Person of the greatest Character upon many Accounts: Besides, it is to him that Homer attributes the Cure of Philoctetes, who was lame by having let an Arrow dipt in the Gall of the Hydra of Lerna fall upon his Foot; a plain Mark that Machaon was an abler Physician than Chiron the Centaure, who could not cure himself of such a Wound. Podalirius had a Son named Hypolochus, from whom the famous Hippocrates was descended.

Of two fam'd Surgeons, Podalirius stands

This Hour surrounded by the Trojan Bands;
And great Machaon, wounded in his Tent,
Now wants that Succour which so oft' he lent.
To him the Chief. What then remains to do?
Th'Event of Things the Gods alone can view.
Charg'd by Achilles' great Command I fly,
And bear with haste the Pylian King's Reply:

Verse 977. But this Distress this Instant claims Relief.] Eustathius remarks, that Homer draws a great Advantage for the Conduct of his Poem from this Incident of the Stay of Patroclus; for while he is employ'd in the friendly Task of taking Care of Eurypylus, he becomes an Eye-witness of the Attack upon the Entrenchments, and finds the Necessity of using his utmost Efforts to move Achilles.

But thy Distress this Instant claims Relief.

He said, and in his Arms upheld the Chief.
The Slaves their Master's slow Approach survey'd,
And Hides of Oxen on the Floor display'd:
There stretch'd at length the wounded Hero lay,
Patroclus cut the forky Steel away.
Then in his Hands a bitter Root he bruis'd;
The Wound he wash'd, the Styptick Juice infus'd.
The closing Flesh that Instant ceas'd to glow,
The Wound to torture, and the Blood to flow.