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THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.


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The ARGUMENT.

The seventh Battle, for the Body of Patroclus: The Acts of Menelaus.

Menelaus, upon the Death of Patroclus, defends his Body from the Enemy: Euphorbus who attempts it, is slain. Hector advancing, Menelaus retires, but soon returns with Ajax, and drives him off. This Glaucus objects to Hector as a Flight, who thereupon puts on the Armour he had won from Patroclus, and renews the Battel. The Greeks give Way, till Ajax rallies them: Æneas sustains the Trojans. Æneas and Hector attempt the Chariot of Achilles, which is borne off by Automedon. The Horses of Achilles deplore the Loss of Patroclus: Jupiter covers his Body with a thick Darkness: The noble Prayer of Ajax on that Occasion. Menelaus sends Antilochus to Achilles, with the News of Patroclus's Death: Then returns to the Fight, where, tho' attack'd with the utmost Fury, he, and Meriones assisted by the Ajaxes, bear off the Body to the Ships.

The Time is the Evening of the eight and twentieth Day. The Scene lies in the Fields before Troy.

This is the only Book of the Iliad which is a continued Description of a Battel, without any Digression or Episode, that serves for an Interval to refresh the Reader. The heav'nly Machines too are fewer than in any other. Homer seems to have trusted wholly to the Force of his own Genius, as sufficient to support him, whatsoever lengths he was carried by it. But that Spirit which animates the Original, is what I am sensible evaporates so much in my Hands; that, tho' I can't think my Author tedious, I should have made him seem so, if I had not translated this Book with all possible Conciseness. I hope there is nothing material omitted, tho' the Version consists but of sixty five Lines more than the Original.

However, one may observe there are more Turns of Fortune, more Defeats, more Rallyings, more Accidents, in this Battel, than in any other; because it was to be the last wherein the Greeks and Trojans were upon equal Terms, before the Return of Achilles: And besides, all this serves to introduce the chief Hero with the greater Pomp and Dignity.


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On the cold Earth divine Patroclus spread,
Lies pierc'd with Wounds among the vulgar Dead.

Verse 3. Great Menelaus—] The Poet here takes occasion to clear Menelaus from the Imputations of Idle and Effeminate, cast on him in some Parts of the Poem; he sets him in the Front of the Army, exposing himself to Dangers in defending the Body of Patroclus, and gives him the Conquest of Euphorbus who had the first Hand in his Death. He is represented as the foremost who appears in his Defence, not only as one of a like Disposition of Mind with Patroclus, a kind and generous Friend; but as being more immediately concern'd in Honour to protect from Injuries the Body of a Hero that fell in his Cause. Eustathius. See the 29th Note on the 3d Book.

Great Menelaus, touch'd with gen'rous Woe,

Springs to the Front, and guards him from the Foe:

Verse 5. Thus round her new fal'n Young, &c.] In this Comparison, as Eustathius has very well observed, the Poet accomodating himself to the Occasion, means only to describe the Affection Menelaus had for Patroclus, and the Manner in which he presented himself to defend his Body: And this Comparison is so much the more just and agreeable, as Menelaus was a Prince full of Goodness and Mildness. He must have little Sense or Knowledge in Poetry, who thinks that it ought to be suppress'd. It is true, we shou'd not ues it now-a-days, by reason of the low Ideas we have of the Animals from which it is derived; but those not being the Ideas of Homer's Time, they could not hinder him from making a proper Use of such a Comparison. Dacier.

Verse id. Thus round her new fal'n Young, &c.]

It seems to me remarkable, that the several Comparisons to illustrate the Concern for Patroclus, are taken from the most tender Sentiments of Nature. Achilles in the Beginning of the 16th Book, considers him as a Child, and himself as his Mother. The Sorrow of Menelaus is here described as that of a Heifer for her young one. Perhaps these are design'd to intimate the excellent Temper and Goodness of Patroclus, which is express'd in that fine Elogy of him in this Book, V. 671. Πασιν γαρ επιστατο μειλιχος ειναι. He knew how to be good-natur'd to all Men. This gave all Mankind these Sentiments for him, and no doubt the same is strongly pointed at by the uncommon Concern of the whole Army to rescue his Body.

The Dissimilitude of Manners between these two Friends, Achilles and Patroclus, is very observable: Such Friendships are not uncommon, and I have often assign'd this Reason for them, that it is natural for Men to seek the Assistance of those Qualities in others, which they want themselves. That is still better if apply'd to Providence, that associates Men of different and contrary Qualities, in order to make a more perfect System. But, whatever is customary in Nature, Homer had a good poetical Reason for it; for it affords many Incidents to illustrate the Manners of them both more strongly; and is what they call a Contrast in Painting.

Thus round her new fal'n Young, the Heifer moves,

Fruit of her Throes, and First-born of her Loves,
And anxious, (helpless as he lies, and bare)
Turns, and returns her, with a Mother's Care.
Oppos'd to each, that near the Carcase came,
His broad Shield glimmers, and his Lances flame.

Verse 11. The Son of Panthus.] The Conduct of Homer is admirable in bringing Euphorbus and Menelaus together upon this Occasion; for hardly any thing but such a signal Revenge for the Death of his Brother, could have made Euphorbus stand the Encounter. Menelaus putting him in mind of the Death of his Brother, gives occasion (I think) to one of the finest Answers in all Homer; in which the Insolence of Menelaus is retorted in a way to draw Pity from every Reader; and I believe there is hardly one, after such a Speech, that would not wish Euphorbus had the better of Menelaus: A Writer of Romances would not have fail'd to have giv'n Euphorbus the Victory. But however it was fitter to make Menelaus, who had receiv'd the greatest Injury, do the most revengeful Actions.

The Son of Panthus, skill'd the Dart to send,

Eyes the dead Hero and insults the Friend.

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This Hand, Atrides, laid Patroclus low;
Warrior! desist, nor tempt an equal Blow:
To me the Spoils my Prowess won, resign;
Depart with Life, and leave the Glory mine.
The Trojan thus: The Spartan Monarch burn'd
With generous Anguish, and in scorn return'd.
Laugh'st thou not, Jove! from thy superior Throne,
When Mortals boast of Prowess not their own?
Not thus the Lion glories in his Might,
Nor Panther braves his spotted Foe in Fight,
Nor thus the Boar (those Terrors of the Plain)
Man only vaunts his Force, and vaunts in vain.
But far the vainest of the boastful Kind
These Sons of Panthus vent their haughty Mind.
Yet 'twas but late, beneath my conqu'ring Steel
This Boaster's Brother, Hyperenor fell,
Against our Arm which rashly he defy'd,
Vain was his Vigour, and as vain his Pride.
These Eyes beheld him on the Dust expire,
No more to chear his Spouse, or glad his Sire.
Presumptuous Youth! like his shall be thy Doom,
To wait thy Brother to the Stygian Gloom;

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While yet thou may'st, avoid the threaten'd Fate;
Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late.
Unmov'd, Euphorbus thus: That Action known,
Come, for my Brother's Blood repay thy own.
His weeping Father claims thy destin'd Head,
And Spouse, a Widow in her bridal Bed.
On these thy conquer'd Spoils I shall bestow,
To sooth a Consort's and a Parent's Woe.
No longer then defer the glorious Strife,
Let Heav'n decide our Fortune, Fame, and Life.
Swift as the Word, the missile Lance he flings,
The well-aim'd Weapon on the Buckler rings,
But blunted by the Brass innoxious falls.
On Jove the Father, great Atrides calls,
Nor flies the Jav'lin from his Arm in vain,
It pierc'd his Throat, and bent him to the Plain;
Wide thro' the Neck appears the grizly Wound,
Prone sinks the Warrior, and his Arms resound.
The shining Circlets of his golden Hair,
Which ev'n the Graces might be proud to wear,

Verse 55. Instarr'd with Gems and Gold.] We have here a Trojan who uses Gold and Silver to adorn his Hair; which made Pliny say, that he doubted whether the Women were the first that us'd those Ornaments. Est quidem apud eundem [Homerum] virorum crinibus aurum implexum, ideo nescio an prior usus à fœminis cœperit. Lib. 33. Chap. 1. He might likewise have strengthen'd his Doubt by the Custom of the Athenians, who put into their Hair little Grashoppers of Gold. Dacier.

Instarr'd with Gems and Gold, bestrow the Shore,

With Dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with Gore.

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Verse 57. As the young Olive, &c.] This exquisite Simile finely illustrates the Beauty and sudden Fall of Euphorbus, in which the Allusion to that Circumstance of his comely Hair is peculiarly happy. Porphyry and Jamblicus acquaints us of the particular Affection Pythagoras had for these Verses, which he set to the Harp, and us'd to repeat as his own Epicedion. Perhaps it was his Fondness of them, which put it into his Head to say, that his Soul transmigrated to him from this Hero. However it was, this Conceit of Pythagoras is famous in Antiquity, and has given occasion to a Dialogue in Lucian entitled The Cock, which is, I think, the finest Piece of that Author.

As the young Olive, in some Sylvan Scene,

Crown'd by fresh Fountains with eternal Green,
Lifts the gay Head, in snowy Flourets fair,
And plays and dances to the gentle Air;
When lo! a Whirlwind from high Heav'n invades
The tender Plant, and withers all its Shades;
It lies uprooted from its genial Bed,
A lovely Ruin, now defac'd and dead.

Verse 65. Thus young, thus beautiful Euphorbus lay.] This is the only Trojan whose Death the Poet laments, that he might do the more Honour to Patroclus, his Hero's Friend. The Comparison here us'd is very proper, for the Olive always preserves its Beauty. But where the Poet speaks of the Lapithæ, a hardy and warlike People, he compares them to Oaks, that stand unmov'd in Storms and Tempests; and where Hector falls by Ajax, he likens him to an Oak struck down by Jove's Thunder. Just after this soft Comparison upon the Beauty of Euphorbus, he passes to another full of Strength and Terror, that of the Lion. Eustathius.

Thus young, thus beautiful, Euphorbus lay,

While the fierce Spartan tore his Arms away.
Proud of his Deed, and glorious in the Prize,
Affrighted Troy the tow'ring Victor flies,
Flies, as before some Mountain Lion's Ire
The village Curs, and trembling Swains retire;
When o'er the slaughter'd Bull they hear him roar,
And see his Jaws distil with smoaking Gore;
All pale with Fear, at distance scatter'd round,
They shout incessant, and the Vales resound.
Meanwhile Apollo view'd with envious Eyes,
And urg'd great Hector to dispute the Prize,
(In Mentes Shape, beneath whose martial Care
The rough Ciconians learn'd the Trade of War)

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Forbear, he cry'd, with fruitless Speed to chace
Achilles' Coursers of æthereal Race;
They stoop not, these, to mortal man's Command,
Or stoop to none but great Achilles' Hand.
Too long amus'd with a Pursuit so vain,
Turn, and behold the brave Euphorbus slain!
By Sparta slain! for ever now supprest
The Fire which burn'd in that undaunted Breast!
Thus having spoke, Apollo wing'd his Flight
And mix'd with Mortals in the Toils of Fight:
His Words infix'd unutterable Care
Deep in great Hector's Soul: Thro' all the War
He darts his anxious Eye; and instant, view'd
The breathless Hero in his Blood imbru'd,
(Forth welling from the Wound, as prone he lay)
And in the Victor's Hands the shining Prey.
Sheath'd in bright Arms, thro' cleaving Ranks he flies,
And sends his Voice in Thunder to the Skies:
Fierce as a Flood of Flame by Vulcan sent,
It flew, and fir'd the Nations as it went.
Atrides from the Voice the Storm divin'd,
And thus explor'd his own unconquer'd Mind.

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Then shall I quit Patroclus on the Plain,
Slain in my Cause, and for my Honour slain,
Desert the Arms, the Relicks of my Friend?
Or singly, Hector and his Troops attend?
Sure where such partial Favour Heav'n bestow'd,
To brave the Hero were to brave the God:
Forgive me, Greece, if once I quit the Field;
'Tis not to Hector, but to Heav'n I yield.
Yet, nor the God, nor Heav'n, shou'd give me Fear,

Verse 110. Did but the Voice of Ajax reach my Ear.] How observable is Homer's Art of illustrating the Valour and Glory of his Heroes? Menelaus, who sees Hector and all the Trojans rushing upon him, wou'd not retire if Apollo did not support them; and though Apollo does support them, he wou'd oppose even Apollo, were Ajax but near him. This is glorious for Menelaus, and yet more glorious for Ajax, and very suitable to his Character; for Ajax was the bravest of the Greeks, next to Achilles. Dacier. Eustathius.

Did but the Voice of Ajax reach my Ear:

Still would we turn, still battle on the Plains,
And give Achilles all that yet remains
Of his and our Patroclus—This, no more,
The Time allow'd: Troy thicken'd on the Shore,
A sable Scene! The Terrors Hector led.
Slow he recedes, and sighing, quits the Dead.

Verse 117. So from the Fold th'unwilling Lion.] The Beauty of the Retreat of Menelaus is worthy Notice. Homer is a great Observer of natural Imagery, that brings the Thing represented before our View. It is indeed true, that Lions, Tygers, and Beasts of Prey are the only Objects that can properly represent Warriors; and therefore 'tis no wonder they are so often introduc'd: The inanimate Things, as Floods, Fires, and Storms, are the best, and only Images of Battels.

So from the Fold th'unwilling Lion parts,

Forc'd by loud Clamours, and a Storm of Darts;
He flies indeed, but threatens as he flies,
With Heart indignant and retorted Eyes,
Now enter'd in the Spartan Ranks, he turn'd
His manly Breast, and with new Fury burn'd,

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O'er all the black Battalions sent his View,
And thro' the Cloud the god-like Ajax knew;
Where lab'ring on the left the Warrior stood,
All grim in Arms, and cover'd o'er with Blood,
There breathing Courage, where the God of Day
Had sunk each Heart with Terror and Dismay.
To him the King. Oh Ajax, oh my Friend!
Haste, and Patroclus' lov'd Remains defend:
The Body to Achilles to restore,
Demands our Care; Alas! we can no more!
For naked now, despoil'd of Arms he lies;
And Hector glories in the dazling Prize.
He said, and touch'd his Heart. The raging Pair
Pierce the thick Battel, and provoke the War.

Verse 137. Already had stern Hector , &c.] Homer takes care, so long before-hand, to lessen in his Reader's Mind the Horror he may conceive from the Cruelty that Achilles will exercise upon the Body of Hector. That Cruelty will be only the Punishment of this which Hector here exercises upon the Body of Patroclus; he drags him, he designs to cut off his Head, and to leave his Body upon the Ramparts, expos'd to Dogs and Birds of Prey. Eustathius.

Already had stern Hector seiz'd his Head,

And doom'd to Trojan Dogs th'unhappy Dead;
But soon as Ajax rear'd his tow'rlike Shield,
Sprung to his Car, and measur'd back the Field.
His Train to Troy the radiant Armour bear,
To stand a Trophy of his Fame in War.
Meanwhile great Ajax (his broad Shield display'd)
Guards the dead Hero with the dreadful Shade;

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And now before, and now behind he stood:
Thus in the Center of some gloomy Wood,
With many a Step the Lioness surrounds
Her tawny Young, beset by Men and Hounds;
Elate her Heart, and rowzing all her Pow'rs,
Dark o'er the fiery Balls, each hanging Eye-brow lowrs.
Fast by his Side, the gen'rous Spartan glows
With great Revenge, and feeds his inward Woes.
But Glaucus, Leader of the Lycian Aids,
On Hector frowning, thus his Flight upbraids.
Where now in Hector shall we Hector find?
A manly Form, without a manly Mind.
Is this, O Chief! a Hero's boasted Fame?
How vain, without the Merit is the Name?
Since Battel is renounc'd, thy Thoughts employ
What other Methods may preserve thy Troy?
'Tis time to try if Ilion's State can stand
By thee alone, nor ask a foreign Hand;
Mean, empty Boast! but shall the Lycians stake
Their Lives for you? those Lycians you forsake?
What from thy thankless Arms can we expect?
Thy Friend Sarpedon proves thy base Neglect:

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Say, shall our slaughter'd Bodies guard your Walls
While unreveng'd the great Sarpedon falls?

Verse 169. You left him there a Prey to Dogs.] It was highly dishonourable in Hector to forsake the Body of a Friend and Guest, and against the Laws of Jupiter Xenius, or hospitalis. For Glaucus knew nothing of Sarpedon's being honour'd with Burial by the Gods, and sent embalm'd into Lycia. Eustathius.

Ev'n where he dy'd for Troy, you left him there,

A Feast for Dogs, and all the Fowls of Air.
On my Command if any Lycian wait,
Hence let him march, and give up Troy to Fate.
Did such a Spirit as the Gods impart
Impel one Trojan Hand, or Trojan Heart;
(Such, as shou'd burn in ev'ry Soul, that draws
The Sword for Glory, and his Country's Cause)
Ev'n yet our mutual Arms we might employ,
And drag yon' Carcass to the Walls of Troy.
Oh! were Patroclus ours, we might obtain
Sarpedon's Arms and honour'd Corse again!
Greece with Achilles' Friend shou'd be repaid,
And thus due Honours purchas'd to his Shade.
But Words are vain—Let Ajax once appear,
And Hector trembles and recedes with Fear;
Thou dar'st not meet the Terrors of his Eye;
And lo! already, thou prepar'st to fly.
The Trojan Chief with fixt Resentment ey'd
The Lycian Leader, and sedate reply'd.

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Say, is it just (my Friend) that Hector's Ear
From such a Warrior such a Speech shou'd hear?
I deem'd thee once the wisest of thy Kind,
But ill this Insult suits a prudent Mind.

Verse 193. I shun great Ajax?] Hector takes no notice of the Affronts that Glaucus had thrown upon him, as knowing he had in some Respects a just Cause to be angry, but he cannot put up what he had said of his fearing Ajax, to which Part he only replies: This is very agreeable to his heroic Character. Eustathius.

I shun great Ajax? I desert my Train?

'Tis mine to prove the rash Assertion vain;
I joy to mingle where the Battel bleeds,
And hear the Thunder of the sounding Steeds.
But Jove's high Will is ever uncontroll'd,
The Strong he withers, and confounds the Bold,
Now crowns with Fame the mighty Man, and now
Strikes the fresh Garland from the Victor's Brow!
Come, thro' yon' Squadrons let us hew the Way,
And thou be Witness, if I fear to Day;
If yet a Greek the Sight of Hector dread,
Or yet their Hero dare defend the Dead.
Then turning to the martial Hosts, he cries,
Ye Trojans, Dardans, Lycians, and Allies!
Be Men (my Friends) in Action as in Name,
And yet be mindful of your ancient Fame.

Verse 209. Hector in proud Achilles Arms shall shine.] The Ancients have observed that Homer causes the Arms of Achilles to fall into Hector's Power, to equal in some sort those two Heroes, in the Battel wherein he is going to engage them. Otherwise it might be urg'd, that Achilles cou'd not have kill'd Hector without the Advantage of having his Armour made by the Hand of a God, whereas Hector's was only of the Hand of a Mortal; but since both were clad in Armour made by Vulcan, Achilles's Victory will be compleat, and in its full Lustre. Besides this Reason (which is for Necessity and Probability) there is also another, for Ornament; for Homer here prepares to introduce that beautiful Episode of the divine Armour, which Vulcan makes for Achilles. Eustathius.

Hector in proud Achilles' Arms shall shine,

Torn from his Friend, by right of Conquest mine.

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He strode along the Field, as thus he said.
(The sable Plumage nodded o'er his Head)
Swift thro' the spacious Plain he sent a Look;
One Instant saw, one Instant overtook
The distant Band, that on the sandy Shore

Verse 216. The radiant Arms to sacred Ilion bore.] A Difficulty may arise here, and the Question may be asked why Hector sent these Arms to Troy? Why did not he take them at first? There are three Answers, which I think are all plausible. The first, that Hector having kill'd Patroclus, and seeing the Day very far advanced, had no mind to take those Arms for a Fight almost at an end. The second, that he was impatient to shew to Priam and Andromache those glorious Spoils. Thirdly, he perhaps at first intended to hang them up in some Temple: Glaucus's Speech makes him change his Resolution, he runs after those Arms to fight against Ajax, and to win Patroclus's Body from him. Dacier.

Homer (says Eustathius) does not suffer the Arms to be carry'd into Troy for these Reasons. That Hector by wearing them might the more encourage the Trojans, and be the more formidable to the Greeks: That Achilles may recover them again when he kills Hector: And that he may conquer him, even when he is strengthened with that divine Armour.

The radiant Spoils to sacred Ilion bore.

There his own Mail unbrac'd, the Field bestrow'd;
His Train to Troy convey'd the massy Load.
Now blazing in th'immortal Arms he stands,
The Work and Present of celestial Hands;
By aged Peleus to Achilles given,
As first to Peleus by the Court of Heav'n:
His Father's Arms not long Achilles wears,
Forbid by Fate to reach his Father's Years.
Him, proud in Triumph glitt'ring from afar,
The God, whose Thunder rends the troubled Air,
Beheld with Pity; as apart he sate,
And conscious, look'd thro' all the Scene of Fate.
He shook the sacred Honours of his Head;
Olympus trembled, and the Godhead said.

Verse 231. Jupiter's Speech to Hector .] The Poet prepares us for the Death of Hector, perhaps to please the Greek Readers, who might be troubled to see him shining in their Heroes Arms. Therefore Jupiter expresses his Sorrow at the approaching Fate of this unfortunate Prince, promises to repay his Loss of Life with Glory, and nods to give a certain Confirmation to his Words. He says, Achilles is the bravest Greek, as Glaucus had said just before; the Poet thus giving him the greatest Commendations, by putting his Praise in the Mouth of a God, and of an Enemy, who were neither of them like to be prejudiced in his Favour. Eustathius.

How beautiful is that Sentiment upon the miserable State of Mankind, introduc'd here so artfully, and so strongly enforc'd, by being put into the Mouth of the supreme Being! And how pathetic the Denunciation of Hector's Death, by that Circumstance of Andromache's Disappointment, when she shall no more receive her Hero glorious from the Battel, in the Armour of his conquer'd Enemy!

Ah wretched Man! unmindful of thy End!

A Moment's Glory! and what Fates attend?

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In heav'nly Panoply divinely bright
Thou stand'st, and Armies tremble at thy Sight
As at Achilles self. Beneath thy Dart
Lies slain the great Achilles' dearer Part:
Thou from the mighty Dead those Arms hast torn
Which once the greatest of Mankind had worn.
Yet live! I give thee one illustrious Day,
A Blaze of Glory; e'er thou fad'st away.
For ah! no more Andromache shall come,
With joyful Tears to welcome Hector home;
No more officious, with endearing Charms,
From thy tir'd Limbs unbrace Pelides' Arms!
Then with his sable Brow he gave the Nod,
That seals his Word; the Sanction of the God.

Verse 247. The stubborn Arms &c.] The Words are,

Η, και κυανεησιν επ' οφρυσι νευσε Κρονιων,
Εκτορρι δ' ηρμοσε τευχε επι χροι.

If we give ηρμοσε a passive Signification, it will be, the Arms fitted Hector; but if an active (as those take it who would put a greater Difference between Hector and Achilles) then it belongs to Jupiter; and the Sense will be, Jupiter made the Arms fit for him, which were too large before: I have chosen the last as the more poetical Sense.

The stubborn Arms (by Jove's Command dispos'd)

Conform'd spontaneous, and around him clos'd;
Fill'd with the God, enlarg'd his Members grew,
Thro' all his Veins a sudden Vigour flew,
The Blood in brisker Tides began to roll,
And Mars himself came rushing on his Soul.
Exhorting loud thro' all the Field he strode,
And look'd, and mov'd, Achilles, or a God.

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Now Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon he inspires,
Now Phorcys, Chromius, and Hippothous fires;
The great Thersilochus like Fury found,
Asteropæus kindled at the Sound,
And Ennomus, in Augury renown'd.

Verse 260. Unnumber'd Bands of neighb'ring Nations.] Eustathius has very well explain'd the Artifice of this Speech of Hector, who indirectly answers all Glaucus's Invectives, and humbles his Vanity. Glaucus had just spoken as if the Lycians were the only Allies of Troy; and Hector here speaks of the numerous Troops of different Nations, which he expresly designs by calling them Borderers upon his Kingdom, thereby in some manner to exclude the Lycians, who were of a Country more remote; as if he did not vouchsafe to reckon them. He afterwards confutes what Glaucus said, “that if the Lycians wou'd take his Advice they wou'd return home”; for he gives them to understand, that being hired Troops, they are obliged to perform their Bargain, and to fight till the War is at an end. Dacier.

Hear all ye Hosts, and hear, unnumber'd Bands

Of neighb'ring Nations, or of distant Lands!
'Twas not for State we summon'd you so far,
To boast our Numbers, and the Pomp of War;
Ye came to fight; a valiant Foe to chafe,
To save our present, and our future Race.
For this, our Wealth, our Products you enjoy,
And glean the Relicks of exhausted Troy.
Now then to conquer or to die prepare,
To die, or conquer, are the Terms of War.
Whatever Hand shall win Patroclus slain,
Whoe'er shall drag him to the Trojan Train,
With Hector's self shall equal Honours claim;
With Hector part the Spoil, and share the Fame.
Fir'd by his Words, the Troops dismiss their Fears,
They join, they thicken, they protend their Spears;

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Full on the Greeks they drive in firm Array,
And each from Ajax hopes the glorious Prey:
Vain hope! what Numbers shall the Field o'erspread,
What Victims perish round the mighty Dead?
Great Ajax mark'd the growing Storm from far,
And thus bespoke his Brother of the War.
Our fatal Day alas! is come (my Friend)
And all our Wars and Glories at an end!
'Tis not this Corpse alone we guard in vain,
Condemn'd to Vulturs on the Trojan Plain;
We too must yield: The same sad Fate must fall
On thee, on me, perhaps (my Friend) on all.
See what a Tempest direful Hector spreads,
And lo! it bursts, it thunders on our Heads!

Verse 290. Call on our Greeks.] Eustathius gives three Reasons why Ajax bids Menelaus call the Greeks to their Assistance; instead of calling them himself. He might be sham'd to do it, lest it should look like Fear and turn to his Dishonour: Or the Chiefs were more likely to obey Menelaus: Or he had too much Business of the War upon his Hands, and wanted Leisure more than the other.

Call on our Greeks, if any hear the Call,

The bravest Greeks: This Hour demands them all.
The Warrior rais'd his Voice, and wide around
The Field re-echo'd the distressful Sound.
Oh Chiefs! oh Princes! to whose Hand is giv'n
The Rule of Men; whose Glory is from Heav'n!
Whom with due Honours both Atrides grace:
Ye Guides and Guardians of our Argive Race!

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All, whom this well-known Voice shall reach from far,
All, whom I see not thro' this Cloud of War,
Come all! Let gen'rous Rage your Arms employ,
And save Patroclus from the Dogs of Troy.

Verse 302. Oïlean Ajax first.] Ajax Oïleus (says Eustathius) is the first that comes, being brought by his Love to the other Ajax, as it is natural for one Friend to fly to the Assistance of another: To which we may add, he might very probably come first, because he was the swiftest of all the Heroes.

Oïlean Ajax first the Voice obey'd,

Swift was his Pace, and ready was his Aid;
Next him Idomeneus, more slow with Age,
And Merion, burning with a Hero's Rage.
The long-succeeding Numbers who can name?
But all were Greeks and eager all for Fame.
Fierce to the Charge great Hector led the Throng;
Whole Troy embodied, rush'd with Shouts along.
Thus, when a Mountain-Billow foams and raves,
Where some swoln River disembogues his Waves,
Full in the Mouth is stopp'd the rushing Tide,
The boiling Ocean works from Side to Side,
The River trembles to his utmost Shore,
And distant Rocks rebellow to the Roar.
Nor less resolv'd, the firm Achaian Band
With brazen Shields in horrid Circle stand:

Verse 318. Jove pouring Darkness] Homer, who in all his former Descriptions of Battels is so fond of mentioning the Lustre of the Arms, here shades them in Darkness, perhaps alluding to the Clouds of Dust that were rais'd; or to the Throng of Combatants; or else to denote the Loss of Greece in Patroclus; or lastly, that as the Heav'ns had mourn'd Sarpedon in Showers of Blood, so they might Patroclus in Clouds of Darkness. Eustathius.

Jove, pouring Darkness o'er the mingled Fight,

Conceals the Warriors' shining Helms in Night:

18

To him, the Chief for whom the Hosts contend,
Had liv'd not hateful, for he liv'd a Friend:
Dead, he protects him with superior Care,
Nor dooms his Carcase to the Birds of Air.
The first Attack the Grecians scarce sustain,
Repuls'd, they yield; the Trojans seize the slain:
Then fierce they rally, to Revenge led on
By the swift Rage of Ajax Telamon.
(Ajax, to Peleus' Son the second Name,
In graceful Stature next, and next in Fame.)
With headlong Force the foremost Ranks he tore;
So thro' the Thicket bursts the Mountain Boar,
And rudely scatters, far to distance round,
The frighted Hunter, and the baying Hound.
The Son of Lethus, brave Pelasgus' Heir,
Hippothous, dragg'd the Carcase thro' the War;
The sinewy Ancles bor'd, the Feet he bound
With Thongs, inserted thro' the double Wound:
Inevitable Fate o'ertakes the Deed;
Doom'd by great Ajax' vengeful Lance to bleed;
It cleft the Helmets brazen Cheeks in twain;
The shatter'd Crest, and Horse-hair, strow the Plain:

19

With Nerves relax'd he tumbles to the Ground:
The Brain comes gushing from the ghastly Wound;
He drops Patroclus' Foot, and o'er him spread
Now lies, a sad Companion of the Dead:
Far from Larissa lies, his native Air,
And ill requites his Parent's tender Care.
Lamented Youth! in Life's first Bloom he fell,
Sent by great Ajax to the Shades of Hell.
Once more at Ajax, Hector's Jav'lin flies;
The Grecian marking, as it cut the Skies,
Shun'd the descending Death; which hissing on,
Stretch'd in the Dust the great Iphytus' Son,
Schedius the brave, of all the Phocian Kind
The boldest Warrior, and the noblest Mind:

Verse 356. Panope renown'd.] Panope was a small Town wenty Stadia from Chæronea on the side of Mount Parnassus, and it is hard to know why Homer gives it the Epithet of renown'd, and makes it the Residence of Schedius, King of the Phocians; when it was but nine hundred Paces in Circuit, and had no Palace, nor Gymnasium, nor Theatre, nor Market, nor Fountain,; nothing in short that ought to have been in a Town which is the Residence of a King. Pausanias (in Phocic.) gives the Reason of it; he says, that as Phocis was exposed on that side to the Inroads of the Bœotians, Schedius made use of Panope as a sort of Citadel, or Place of Arms. Dacier.

In little Panope for Strength renown'd,

He held his Seat, and rul'd the Realms around.
Plung'd in his Throat, the Weapon drank his Blood,
And deep transpiercing, thro' the Shoulder stood;
In clanging Arms the Hero fell, and all
The Fields resounded with his weighty Fall.
Phorcys, as slain Hippothous he defends,
The Telamonian Lance his Belly rends;

20

The hollow Armour burst before the Stroke,
And thro' the Wound the rushing Entrails broke.
In strong Convulsions panting on the Sands
He lies, and grasps the Dust with dying Hands.
Struck at the Sight, recede the Trojan Train:
The shouting Argives strip the Heroes slain.
And now had Troy, by Greece compell'd to yield,
Fled to her Ramparts, and resign'd the Field;
Greece, in her native Fortitude elate,
With Jove averse, had turn'd the Scale of Fate:
But Phœbus urg'd Æneas to the Fight;

Verse 375. He seem'd like aged Periphas .] The Speech of Periphas to Æneas hints at the double Fate, and the Necessity of Means. It is much like that of St. Paul after he was promised that no body should perish; he says, except these abide, ye cannot be saved.

He seem'd like aged Periphas to Sight.

(A Herald in Anchises' Love grown old,
Rever'd for Prudence, and with Prudence, bold.)
Thus He—what Methods yet, oh Chief! remain,
To save your Troy, tho' Heav'n its Fall ordain?
There have been Heroes, who by virtuous Care,
By Valour, Numbers, and by Arts of War,
Have forc'd the Pow'rs to spare a sinking State,
And gain'd at length the glorious Odds of Fate.
But you, when Fortune smiles, when Jove declares
His partial Favour, and assists your Wars,

21

Your shameful Efforts 'gainst your selves employ,
And force th'unwilling God to ruin Troy.
Æneas thro the Form assum'd descries
The Pow'r conceal'd, and thus to Hector cries.
Oh lasting Shame! to our own Fears a Prey,
We seek our Ramparts, and desert the Day.
A God (nor is he less) my Bosom warms,
And tells me, Jove asserts the Trojan Arms.
He spoke, and foremost to the Combat flew:
The bold Example all his Hosts pursue.
Then first, Leocritus beneath him bled,
In vain belov'd by valiant Lycomede;
Who veiw'd his Fall, and grieving at the Chance,
Swift to revenge it, sent his angry Lance;
The whirling Lance with vig'rous Force addrest,
Descends, and pants in Apisaon's Breast:
From rich Pæonias' Vales the Warrior came,
Next thee, Asteropeus! in Place and Fame.
Asteropeus with Grief beheld the Slain,
And rush'd to combate, but he rush'd in vain:
Indissolubly firm, around the Dead,
Rank within Rank, on Buckler Buckler spread,

22

And hemm'd with bristled Spears, the Grecians stood;
A brazen Bulwark, and an iron Wood.
Great Ajax eyes them with incessant Care,
And in an Orb, contracts the crowded War,
Close in their Ranks commands to fight or fall,
And stands the Center and the Soul of all:
Fixt on the Spot they war; and wounded, wound;
A sanguine Torrent steeps the reeking Ground;
On Heaps the Greeks, on Heaps the Trojans bled,
And thick'ning round 'em, rise the Hills of Dead.
Greece, in close Order and collected Might,
Yet suffers least, and sways the wav'ring Fight;
Fierce as conflicting Fires, the Combate burns,
And now it rises, now it sinks, by turns.

Verse 422. In one thick Darkness, &c.] The Darkness spread over the Body of Patroclus is artful upon several Accounts. First, a fine Image of Poetry. Next, a Token of Jupiter's Love to a righteous Man; but the chief Design is to portract the Action; which, if the Trojans had seen the Spot, must have been decided one way or other, in a very short time. Besides, the Trojans having the better in the Action, must have seiz'd the Body contrary to the Intention of the Author: There are innumerable Instances of these little Niceties and Particularities of Conduct in Homer.

In one thick Darkness all the Fight was lost;

The Sun, the Moon, and all th'Etherial Host
Seem'd as extinct: Day ravish'd from their Eyes,
And all Heav'n's Splendors blotted from the Skies.
Such o'er Patroclus Body hung the Night,
The rest in Sunshine fought, and open Light:
Unclouded there, th'Aerial Azure spread,
No Vapour rested on the Mountain's Head,

23

The golden Sun pour'd forth a stronger Ray,
And all the broad Expansion flam'd with Day.
Dispers'd around the Plain, by fits they fight,
And here, and there, their scatter'd Arrows light:
But Death and Darkness o'er the Carcase spread,
There burn'd the War, and there the Mighty bled.

Verse 436. Meanwhile the Sons of Nestor, in the Rear, &c.] It is not without Reason Homer in this Place makes particular mention of the Sons of Nestor. It is to prepare us against he sends one of them to Achilles, to tell him the Death of his Friend.

Meanwhile the Sons of Nestor, in the Rear,

Their Fellows routed, toss the distant Spear,
And skirmish wide: So Nestor gave Command,
When from the Ships he sent the Pylian Band.
The youthful Brothers thus for Fame contend,
Nor knew the Fortune of Achilles' Friend;
In thought they view'd him still, with martial Joy,
Glorious in Arms, and dealing Deaths to Troy.
But round the Corps, the Heroes pant for Breath,
And thick and heavy grows the Work of Death:
O'erlabour'd now, with Dust, and Sweat and Gore,
Their Knees, their Legs, their Feet are cover'd o'er,
Drops follow Drops, the Clouds on Clouds arise,
And Carnage clogs their Hands, and Darkness fills their Eyes;

Verse 450. As when a slaughter'd Bull's yet reeking Hide.] Homer gives us a most lively Description of their drawing the Body on all sides, and instructs us in the ancient manner of stretching Hides, being first made soft and supple with Oyl. And tho' this Comparison be one of those mean and humble ones which some have objected to, yet it has also its Admirers for being so expressive, and for representing to the Imagination the most strong and exact Idea of the Subject in hand. Eustathius.

As when a slaughter'd Bull's yet reeking Hyde,

Strain'd with full Force, and tugg'd from Side to Side,

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The brawny Curriers stretch; and labour o'er
Th'extended Surface, drunk with Fat and Gore;
So tugging round the Corps both Armies stood;
The mangled Body bath'd in Sweat and Blood:
While Greeks and Ilians equal Strength employ,
Now to the Ships to force it, now to Troy.

Verse 458. Not Pallas self, &c.] Homer says in the Original, “Minerva could not have found fault, tho' she were angry.” Upon which Eustathius ingeniously observes, how common and natural it is for Persons in Anger to turn Criticks, and find Faults where there are none.

Not Pallas' self, her Breast when Fury warms,

Nor He, whose Anger sets the World in Arms,
Could blame this Scene; such Rage, such Horror reign'd;
Such, Jove to honour the great Dead ordain'd.
Achilles in his Ships at distance lay,
Nor knew the fatal Fortune of the Day;
He, yet unconscious of Patroclus' Fall,
In dust extended under Ilion's Wall,
Expects him glorious from the conquer'd Plain,
And for his wish'd Return prepares in vain;

Verse 468.

To make proud Ilion bend,
Was more than Heav'n had promis'd to his Friend,
Perhaps to Him

:] In these Words the Poet artfully hints at Achilles's Death; he makes him not absolutely to flatter himself with the Hopes of ever taking Troy, in his own Person, however he does not say this expresly, but passes it over as an ungrateful Subject. Eustathius.

Tho' well he knew, to make proud Ilion bend,

Was more than Heav'n had destin'd to his Friend,
Perhaps to Him: This Thetis had reveal'd;

Verse 471. The rest, in pity to her Son conceal'd.] Here, (says the same Author) we have two Rules laid down for common use. One, not to tell our Friends all their Mischances at once, it being often necessary to hide part of them, as Thetis does from Achilles: The other, not to push Men of Courage upon all that is possible for them to do. Thus Achilles, tho' he thought Patroclus able to drive the Trojans back to their Gates, yet he does not order him to do so much, but only to save the Ships, and beat them back into the Field.

Homer's admonishing the Reader that Achilles's Mother had conceal'd the Circumstance of the Death of his Friend when she instructed him in his Fate; and that all he knew, was only that Troy could not be taken at that time; this is a great Instance of his Care of the Probability, and of his having the whole Plan of the Poem at once in his Head. For upon the Supposition that Achilles was instructed in his Fate, it was a natural Objection, how came he to hazard his Friend? If he was ignorant on the other hand of the Impossibility of Troy's being taken at that time, he might for all he knew, be robb'd by his Friend (of whose Valour he had so good an Opinion) of that Glory, which he was unwilling to part with.

The rest, in pity to her Son, conceal'd.

Still rag'd the Conflict round the Hero dead,
And Heaps on Heaps by mutual Wounds they bled.

25

Curs'd be the Man (ev'n private Greeks would say)
Who dares desert this well-disputed Day!
First may the cleaving Earth before our Eyes
Gape wide, and drink our Blood for Sacrifice!
First perish all, e'er haughty Troy shall boast
We lost Patroclus, and our Glory lost.
Thus they. While with one Voice the Trojans said,
Grant this Day, Jove! or heap us on the Dead!
Then clash their sounding Arms; the Clangors rise,
And shake the brazen Concave of the Skies.

Verse 484. At distance from the Scene of Blood.] If the Horses had not gone aside out of the War, Homer could not have introduc'd so well what he design'd to their Honour. So he makes them weeping in secret (as their Master Achilles us'd to do) and afterwards coming into the Battel, where they are taken notice of and pursued by Hector. Eustathius.

Meantime, at distance from the Scene of Blood,

Verse 485. The pensive Steeds of great Achilles , &c.] It adds a great Beauty to a Poem when inanimate Things act like animate. Thus the Heavens tremble at Jupiter's Nod, the Sea parts it self to receive Neptune, the Groves of Ida shake beneath Juno's Feet, &c. As also to find animate or brute Creatures addrest to, as if rational: So Hector encourages his Horses; and one of Achilles's is endued not only with Speech, but with Fore-knowledge of future Events. Here they weep for Patroclus, and stand fix'd and unmoveable with Grief: Thus is this Hero universally mourn'd, and every thing concurs to lament his Loss. Eustathius.

As to the particular Fiction of the Horses weeping, it is countenanc'd both by Naturalists and Historians. Aristotle and Pliny write, that these Animals often deplore their Masters lost in Battel, and even shed Tears for them. So Solinus c. 47. Ælian relates the like of Elephants, when they are carry'd from their native Countrey, De Animal. lib. 10. c. 17. Suetonius in the Life of Cæsar, tells us, that several Horses which at the Passage of the Rubicon had been consecrated to Mars, and turn'd loose on the Banks, were observed for some Days after, to abstain from feeding, and to weep abundantly. Proximis diebus, equorum greges quos in trajiciendo Rubicone flumine Marti consecrârat, ac sine custode vagos dimiserat, comperit pabulo pertinacissimè abstinere, ubertimq; flere. Cap. 81.

Virgil could not forbear copying this beautiful Circumstance, in those fine Lines on the Horse of Pallas.

Post bellator Equus, positis insignibus, Æthon,
It lacrymans, guttisq; humectat grandibus ora.
The pensive Steeds of great Achilles stood;

Their god-like Master slain before their Eyes,
They wept, and shar'd in human Miseries.
In vain Automedon now shakes the Rein,
Now plies the Lash, and sooths and threats in vain;
Nor to the Fight, nor Hellespont, they go;
Restive they stood, and obstinate in Woe:
Still as a Tomb-stone, never to be mov'd,
On some good Man, or Woman unreprov'd
Lays its eternal Weight; or fix'd as stands

Verse 495. Or fix'd, as stands a marble Courser, &c.] Homer alludes to the Custom in those Days of placing Columns upon Tombs, on which Columns there were frequently Chariots with two or four Horses. This furnish'd Homer with this beautiful Image, as if these Horses meant to remain there, to serve for an immortal Monument to Patroclus. Dacier.

I believe M. Dacier refines too much in this Note. Homer says,—ηε γυναικος, and seems to turn the Thought only on the Firmness of the Column, and not on the Imag'ry of it: Which would give it an Air a little too modern, like that of Shakespear, She sate like Patience on a Monument Smiling at Grief .—Be it as it will, this Conjecture is ingenious; and the whole Comparison is as beautiful as just. The Horses standing still to mourn for their Master, could not be more finely represented than by the dumb Sorrow of Images standing over a Tomb. Perhaps the very Posture in which these Horses are described, their Heads bowed down, and their Manes falling in the Dust, has an Allusion to the Attitude in which those Statues on Monuments were usually represented: There are Bas-Reliefs that favour this Conjecture.

A marble Courser by the Sculptor's Hands,


26

Plac'd on the Hero's Grave. Along their Face,
The big round Drops cours'd down with silent pace,
Conglobing on the Dust. Their Manes, that late
Circled their arching Necks, and wav'd in State,
Trail'd on the Dust beneath the Yoke were spread,
And prone to Earth was hung their languid Head:
Nor Jove disdain'd to cast a pitying Look,
While thus relenting to the Steeds he spoke.
Unhappy Coursers of immortal Strain!
Exempt from Age, and deathless now in vain;
Did we your Race on mortal Man bestow,
Only alas! to share in mortal Woe?
For ah! what is there, of inferior Birth,
That breathes or creeps upon the Dust of Earth;
What wretched Creature of what wretched kind,
Than Man more weak, calamitous, and blind?
A miserable Race! But cease to mourn.
For not by you shall Priam's Son be born
High on the splendid Car: One glorious Prize
He rashly boasts; the rest our Will denies.
Ourself will Swiftness to your Nerves impart,
Ourself with rising Spirits swell your Heart.

27

Automedon your rapid Flight shall bear
Safe to the Navy thro' the Storm of War.
For yet 'tis giv'n to Troy, to ravage o'er
The Field, and spread her Slaughters to the Shore;

Verse 522. The Sun shall see Troy conquer.] It is worth observing with what Art and Oeconomy Homer conducts his Fable, to bring on the Catastrophe. Achilles must hear Patroclus's Death; Hector must fall by his Hand: This can not happen if the Armies continue fighting about the Body of Patroclus under the Walls of Troy. Therefore, to change the Face of Affairs, Jupiter is going to raise the Courage of the Trojans, and make them repulse and chase the Greeks again as far as their Fleet; this obliges Achilles to go forth tho' without Arms, and thereby every thing comes to an Issue. Dacier.

The Sun shall see her conquer, till his Fall

With sacred Darkness shades the Face of all.
He said; and breathing in th'immortal Horse
Excessive Spirit, urg'd 'em to the Course;
From their high Manes they shake the Dust, and bear
The kindling Chariot thro' the parted War:
So flies a Vulture thro' the clam'rous Train
Of Geese, that scream, and scatter round the Plain.
From Danger now with swiftest Speed they flew,
And now to Conquest with like Speed pursue;
Sole in the Seat the Charioteer remains,
Now plies the Jav'lin, now directs the Reins:
Him brave Alcimedon beheld distrest,
Approach'd the Chariot, and the Chief addrest.
What God provokes thee, rashly thus to dare,
Alone, unaided, in the thickest War?
Alas! thy Friend is slain, and Hector wields
Achilles' Arms triumphant in the Fields.

28

In happy time (the Charioteer replies)
The bold Alcimedon now greets my Eyes;
No Greek like him, the heav'nly Steeds restrains,
Or holds their Fury in suspended Reins:
Patroclus, while he liv'd, their Rage cou'd tame,
But now Patroclus is an empty Name!
To thee I yield the Seat, to thee resign
The ruling Charge: The Task of Fight be mine.
He said. Alcimedon, with active Heat,
Snatches the Reins, and vaults into the Seat.
His Friend descends. The Chief of Troy descry'd,
And call'd Æneas fighting near his Side.
Lo, to my Sight beyond our Hope restor'd,
Achilles' Car, deserted of its Lord!
The glorious Steeds our ready Arms invite,

Verse 555. Scarce their weak Drivers.] There was but one Driver, since Alcimedon was alone upon the Chariot; and Automedon was got down to fight. But in Poetry, as well as in Painting, there is often but one Moment to be taken hold on. Hector sees Alcimedon mount the Chariot, before Automedon was descended from it; and thereupon judging of their Intention, and seeing them both as yet upon the Chariot, he calls to Æneas. He terms them both Drivers in Mockery, because he saw them take the Reins one after the other; as if he said, that Chariot had two Drivers, but never a Fighter. 'Tis one single Moment that makes this Image. In reading the Poets one often falls into great Perplexities, for want of rightly distinguishing the Point of Time in which they speak. Dacier.

The Art of Homer in this whole Passage concerning Automedon, is very remarkable; in finding out the only proper Occasion, for so renowned a Person as the Charioteer of Achilles to signalize his Valour.

Scarce their weak Drivers guide them thro' the Fight:

Can such Opponents stand, when we assail?
Unite thy Force, my Friend, and we prevail.
The Son of Venus to the Counsel yields;
Then o'er their Backs they spread their solid Shields;
With Brass refulgent the broad Surface shin'd,
And thick Bull-hides the Spacious Concave lin'd.

29

Them Chromius follows, Aretus succeeds,
Each hopes the Conquest of the lofty Steeds:

Verse 564.

In vain brave Youths, with glorious Hopes ye burn,
In vain advance! not fated to return.

]

These beautiful Anticipations are frequent in the Poets, who affect to speak in the Character of Prophets, and Men inspired with the Knowledge of Futurity. Thus Virgil to Turnus,

Nescia mens hominum fati.—Turno tempus erit, &c.

So Tasso, Cant. 12. when Argante had vow'd the Destruction of Tancred.

O vani giuramenti! Ecco contrari
Seguir tosto gli effetti a l' alta speme:
E cader questi in teneon pari estinto
Sotto colui, ch' ei fà già preso, e vinto.

And Milton makes the like Apostrophe to Eve at her leaving Adam before she met the Serpent.

------ She to him engag'd
To be return'd by Noon amid the Bower,
And all Things in best order to invite
Noontide repast, or Afternoon's Repose.
O much deceiv'd, much sailing, hapless Eve!
Thou never from that Hour, in Paradise,
Found'st either sweet Repast, or sound Repose.
In vain, brave Youths, with glorious Hopes ye burn,

In vain advance! not fated to return.
Unmov'd, Automedon attends the Fight,
Implores th'Eternal, and collects his Might.
Then turning to his Friend, with dauntless Mind:
Oh keep the foaming Coursers close behind!
Full on my Shoulders let their Nostrils blow,
For hard the Fight, determin'd is the Foe;
'Tis Hector comes; and when he seeks the Prize,
War knows no mean: he wins it, or he dies.
Then thro' the Field he sends his Voice aloud,
And calls th'Ajaces from the warring Croud,
With great Atrides. Hither turn (he said)
Turn, where Distress demands immediate Aid;
The Dead, incircled by his Friends, forego,
And save the Living from a fiercer Foe.
Unhelp'd we stand, unequal to engage
The Force of Hector, and Æneas' Rage:
Yet mighty as they are, my Force to prove,
Is only mine: th'Event belongs to Jove.

30

He spoke, and high the sounding Jav'lin flung,
Which pass'd the Shield of Aretus the young;
It pierc'd his Belt, emboss'd with curious Art;
Then in the lower Belly stuck the Dart.
As when the pond'rous Axe descending full,
Cleaves the broad Forehead of some brawny Bull;
Struck 'twixt the Horns, he springs with many a Bound,
Then tumbling rolls enormous on the Ground:
Thus fell the Youth; the Air his Soul receiv'd,
And the Spear trembled as his Entrails heav'd.
Now at Automedon the Trojan Foe
Discharg'd his Lance; the meditated Blow
Stooping, he shun'd; the Jav'lin idly fled,
And hiss'd innoxious o'er the Hero's Head:
Deep rooted in the Ground, the forceful Spear
In long Vibrations spent its Fury there.
With clashing Falchions now the Chiefs had clos'd,
But each brave Ajax heard, and interpos'd;
Nor longer Hector with his Trojans stood,
But left their slain Companion in his Blood:
His Arms Automedon divests, and cries,
Accept, Patroclus! this mean Sacrifice.

31

Thus have I footh'd my Griefs, and thus have paid
Poor as it is, some Off'ring to thy Shade.
So looks the Lion o'er a mangled Boar,
All grim with Rage, and horrible with Gore:
High on the Chariot at one Bound he sprung,
And o'er his Seat the bloody Trophies hung.
And now Minerva, from the Realms of Air
Descends impetuous, and renews the War;
For, pleas'd at length the Grecian Arms to aid,
The Lord of Thunders sent the blue-ey'd Maid.
As when high Jove, denouncing future Woe,
O'er the dark Clouds extends his Purple Bow,
(In sign of Tempests from the troubled Air,
Or from the Rage of Man, destructive War)
The drooping Cattel dread th'impending Skies,
And from his half-till'd Field the Lab'rer flies.
In such a Form the Goddess round her drew
A livid Cloud, and to the Battle flew.
Assuming Phœnix' Shape, on Earth she falls
And in his well-known Voice to Sparta calls.
And lies Achilles' Friend, belov'd by all,
A Prey to Dogs beneath the Trojan Wall?

32

What Shame to Greece for future times to tell,
To thee the greatest, in whose Cause he fell!
O Chief, Oh Father! (Atreus' Son replies)
O full of Days! by long Experience wise!
What more desires my Soul, than here, unmov'd,
To guard the Body of the Man I lov'd?
Ah would Minerva send me Strength to rear
This weary'd Arm, and ward the Storm of War!
But Hector, like the Rage of Fire, we dread,
And Jove's own Glories blaze around his Head.
Pleas'd to be first of all the Pow'rs addrest,
She breathes new Vigour in her Hero's Breast,
And fills with keen Revenge, with fell Despight,
Desire of Blood, and Rage, and Lust of Fight.

Verse 642. So burns the vengeful Hornet, &c.] It is literally in the Greek, she inspir'd the Hero with the Boldness of a Fly. There is no Impropriety in the Comparison, this Animal being of all others the most persevering in its Attacks, and the most difficult to be beaten off: The Occasion also of the Comparison being the resolute Persistance of Menelaus about the dead Body, renders it still the more just. But our present Idea of the Fly is indeed very low, as taken from the Littleness and Insignificancy of this Creature. However, since there is really no Meanness in it, there ought to be none in expressing it; and I have done my best in the Translation to keep up the Dignity of my Author.

So burns the vengeful Hornet (Soul all o'er)

Repuls'd in vain, and thirsty still of Gore;
(Bold Son of Air and Heat) on angry Wings
Untam'd, untir'd, he turns, attacks, and stings.:
Fir'd with like Ardour fierce Atrides flew,
And sent his Soul with ev'ry Lance he threw.
There stood a Trojan not unknown to Fame,
Eëtion's Son, and Podes was his Name;

33

With Riches honour'd, and with Courage blest,

Verse 651. By Hector lov'd, his Comrade and his Guest.] Podes the Favourite and Companion of Hector, being kill'd on this Occasion, seems a parallel Circumstance to the Death of Achilles's Favourite and Companion; and was probably put in here on purpose to engage Hector on a like Occasion with Achilles.

By Hector lov'd, his Comrade, and his Guest;

Thro' his broad Belt the Spear a Passage found,
And pond'rous as he falls, his Arms resound.
Sudden at Hector's Side Apollo stood,
Like Phænops, Asius' Son, appear'd the God;
(Asius the Great, who held his wealthy Reign
In fair Abydos by the rolling Main.)
Oh Prince (he cry'd) oh foremost once in Fame!
What Grecian now shall tremble at thy Name?
Dost thou at length to Menelaus yield?
A Chief, once thought no Terror of the Field;
Yet singly, now, the long disputed Prize
He bears victorious, while our Army flies.
By the same Arm illustrious Podes bled,
The Friend of Hector, unreveng'd, is dead:
This heard, o'er Hector spreads a Cloud of Woe,
Rage lifts his Lance, and drives him on the Foe.
But now th'Eternal shook his sable Shield,
That shaded Ide, and all the subject Field
Beneath its ample Verge. A rolling Cloud
Involv'd the Mount; the Thunder roar'd aloud;

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Th'affrighted Hills from their Foundations nod,
And blaze beneath the Lightnings of the God:
At one Regard of his all-seeing Eye,
The Vanquish'd triumph, and the Victors fly.
Then trembled Greece: The Flight Peneleus led;
For as the brave Bœotian turn'd his Head
To face the Foe, Polydamas drew near,
And raz'd his Shoulder with a shorten'd Spear:
By Hector wounded, Leitus quits the Plain,
Pierc'd thro' the Wrist; and raging with the Pain
Grasps his once formidable Lance in vain.
As Hector follow'd, Idomen addrest
The flaming Jav'lin to his manly Breast;
The brittle Point before his Corselet yields;
Exulting Troy with Clamour fills the Fields:
High on his Chariot as the Cretan stood,
The Son of Priam whirl'd the missive Wood;
But erring from its Aim, th'impetuous Spear
Strook to the Dust the Squire, and Charioteer
Of martial Merion: Cœranus his Name,
Who left fair Lyctus for the Fields of Fame.

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On foot bold Merion fought; and now laid low,
Had grac'd the Triumphs of his Trojan Foe;
But the brave Squire the ready Coursers brought,
And with his Life his Master's Safety bought.
Between his Cheek and Ear the Weapon went,
The Teeth it shatter'd, and the Tongue it rent.
Prone from the Seat he tumbles to the Plain;
His dying Hand forgets the falling Rein:
This Merion reaches, bending from the Car,
And urges to desert the hopeless War;
Idomeneus consents; the Lash applies;
And the swift Chariot to the Navy flies.
Nor Ajax less the Will of Heav'n descry'd,
And Conquest shifting to the Trojan Side,
Turn'd by the Hand of Jove. Then thus begun,
To Atreus' Seed, the god-like Telamon.
Alas! who sees not Jove's almighty Hand
Transfers the Glory to the Trojan Band;
Whether the Weak or Strong discharge the Dart,
He guides each Arrow to a Grecian Heart:
Not so our Spears: incessant tho' they rain,
He suffers ev'ry Lance to fall in vain.

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Deserted of the God, yet let us try
What human Strength and Prudence can supply;
If yet this honour'd Corps, in Triumph born,
May glad the Fleets that hope not our return,
Who tremble yet, scarce rescu'd from their Fates,
And still hear Hector thund'ring at their Gates.

Verse 721. Some Hero too must be dispatch'd, &c.] It seems odd that they did not sooner send this Message to Achilles; but there is some Apology for it from the Darkness and Difficulty of finding a proper Person. It was not every body that was proper to send but one who was a particular Friend to Achilles, who might condole with him. Such was Antilochus who is sent afterwards, and who, besides, had that necessary Qualification of being ποδας ωκυς. Eustathius.

Some Hero too must be dispatch'd, to bear

The mournful Message to Pelides' Ear;
For sure he knows not, distant on the Shore,
His Friend, his lov'd Patroclus, is no more.
But such a Chief I spy not thro' the Host:
The Men, the Steeds, the Armies all are lost
In gen'ral Darkness—Lord of Earth and Air!
Oh King! oh Father! hear my humble Pray'r:
Dispel this Cloud, the Light of Heav'n restore;
Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more:

Verse 731.

If Grecce must perish we thy Will obey;
But let us perish in the Face of Day!

] This Thought has been look'd upon as one of the sublimest in Homer: Longinus represents it in this manner. “The thickest Darkness had on a sudden cover'd the Grecian Army, and hinder'd them from fighting: When Ajax, not knowing what Course to take, cries out, Oh Jove! disperse this Darkness which covers the Greeks, and if we must perish, let us perish in the Light! This is a Sentiment truly worthy of Ajax, he does not pray for Life; that had been unworthy a Hero: But because in that Darkness he could not employ his Valour to any glorious Purpose, and vex'd to stand idle in the Field of Battel, he only prays that the Day may appear, as being assured of putting an end to it worthy his great Heart, tho' Jupiter himself should happen to oppose his Efforts.”

M. l' Abbè Terasson (in his Dissertation on the Iliad) endeavours to prove that Longinus has misrepresented the whole Context and Sense of this Passage of Homer. The Fact (says he) is, that Ajax is in a very different Situation in Homer from that wherein Longinus describes him. He has not the least Intention of fighting, he thinks only of finding out some fit Person to send to Achilles; and this Darkness hindering him from seeing such an one, is the occasion of his Prayer. Accordingly it appears by what follows, that as soon as Jupiter has dispers'd the Cloud, Ajax never falls upon the Enemy, but in consequence of his former Thought orders Menelaus to look for Antilochus, to dispatch him to Achilles with the News of the Death of his Friend. Longinus (continues this Author) had certainly forgot the Place from whence he took this Thought; and it is not the first Citation from Homer which the Ancients have quoted wrong. Thus Aristotle attributes to Calypso, the Words of Ulysses in the twelfth Book of the Odysseis; and confounds together two Passages, one of the second, the other of the fifteenth Book of the Iliad. [Ethic. ad Nicom. l. 2. c. 9. and l. 3. c. 11.] And thus Cicero ascribed to Agamemnon a long Discourse of Ulysses in the second Iliad; [De divinatione l. 2.] and cited as Ajax's, the Speech of Hector in the seventh. [See Aul. Gellius l. 15. c. 6.] One has no cause to wonder at this, since the Ancients having Homer almost by heart, were for that very Reason the more subject to mistake in citing him by Memory.

To this I think one may answer, that granting it was partly the Occasion of Ajax's Prayer to obtain Light, in order to send to Achilles (which he afterwards does) yet the Thought which Longinus attributes to him, is very consistent with it; and the last Line expresses nothing else but an heroic Desire rather to die in the Light, than escape with Safety in the Darkness.

Εν δε φαει και ολεσσον, επει νυ τοι ευαδεν αυτος.

But indeed the whole Speech is only meant to paint the Concern and Distress of a brave General: The Thought of sending a Messenger is only a Result from that Concern and Distress, and so but a small Circumstance; which cannot be said to occasion the Pray'r.

Mons. Boileau has translated this Passage in two Lines.

Grand Dieu! chasse la nuit qui nous couvre les yeux,
Et combats contre nous a la clarté des Cieux.

And Mr. la Motte yet better in one.

Grand Dieu! rends nous le jour, & combats contre nous!

But both these (as Dacier very justly observes) are contrary to Homer's Sense. He is far from representing Ajax of such a daring Impiety, as to bid Jupiter combate against him; but only makes him ask for Light, that if it be his Will the Greeks shall perish, they may perish in open Day. Και ολεσσον— (says he) that is, abandon us, withdraw from us your Assistance; for those who are deserted by Jove must perish infallibly: This Decorum of Homer ought to have been preserv'd.

If Greece must perish, we thy Will obey,

But let us perish in the Face of Day!
With Tears the Hero spoke, and at his Pray'r
The God relenting, clear'd the clouded Air;
Forth burst the Sun with all-enlight'ning Ray;
The Blaze of Armour flash'd against the Day.

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Now, now, Atrides! cast around thy Sight,
If yet Antilochus survives the Fight,
Let him to great Achilles' Ear convey
The fatal News—Atrides hasts away.
So turns the Lion from the nightly Fold,
Tho high in Courage, and with Hunger bold,
Long gall'd by Herdsmen, and long vext by Hounds,
Stiff with Fatigue, and fretted sore with Wounds;
The Darts fly round him from a hundred Hands,
And the red Terrors of the blazing Brands:
Till late, reluctant, at the Dawn of Day
Sow'r he departs, and quits th'untasted Prey.
So mov'd Atrides from his dang'rous Place
With weary'd Limbs, but with unwilling Pace:
The Foe, he fear'd, might yet Patroclus gain,
And much admonish'd, much adjur'd his Train.
Oh guard these Relicks to your Charge consign'd,
And bear the Merits of the Dead in Mind;
How skill'd he was in each obliging Art;

Verse 756. The mildest Manners, and the gentlest Heart.] This is a fine Elogium of Patroclus: Homer dwells upon it on purpose, lest Achilles's Character should be mistaken; and shews by the Praises he bestows here upon Goodness, that Achilles's Character is not commendable for Morality. Achilles's Manners, entirely opposite to those of Patroclus, are not morally good; they are only poetically so, that is to say, they are well mark'd; and discover before-hand what Resolutions that Hero will take: As hath been at large explain'd upon Aristotle's Poeticks. Dacier.

The mildest Manners, and the gentlest Heart:

He was, alas! But Fate decreed his End;
In Death a Hero, as in Life a Friend!

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So parts the Chief; from Rank to Rank he flew,
And round on all sides sent his piercing View.
As the bold Bird, endu'd with sharpest Eye
Of all that wing the mid Aerial Sky,
The sacred Eagle, from his Walks above
Looks down, and sees the distant Thicket move;
Then stoops, and sowsing on the quiv'ring Hare,
Snatches his Life amid the Clouds of Air.
Not with less Quickness, his exerted Sight
Pass'd this, and that way, thro' the Ranks of Fight:
Till on the Left the Chief he sought, he found;
Chearing his Men, and spreading Deaths around.
To him the King. Belov'd of Jove! draw near,
For sadder Tydings never touch'd thy Ear;
Thy Eyes have witness'd what a fatal Turn!
How Ilion triumphs, and th'Achaians mourn.
This is not all: Patroclus on the Shore,
Now pale and dead, shall succour Greece no more.
Fly to the Fleet, this Instant fly, and tell
The sad Achilles how his lov'd one fell:
He too may haste the naked Corps to gain;
The Arms are Hector's, who despoil'd the Slain.

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Verse 781. The youthful Warrior heard with silent Woe.] Homer ever represents an Excess of Grief by a deep Horrour, Silence, Weeping, and not enquiring into the manner of the Friend's Death: Nor could Antilochus have express'd his Sorrow in any manner so moving as Silence. Eustathius.

The youthful Warrior heard with silent Woe,

From his fair Eyes the Tears began to flow;
Big with the mighty Grief, he strove to say
What Sorrow dictates, but no Word found way.

Verse 785. To brave Laodocus his Arms he flung.] Antilochus leaves his Armour, not only that he might make the more haste, but (as the Ancients conjecture) that he might not be thought to be absent by the Enemies; and that seeing his Armour on some other Person, they might think him still in the Fight. Eustathius.

To brave Laodocus his Arms he flung,

Who near him wheeling, drove his Steeds along;
Then ran, the mournful Message to impart,
With Tear-ful Eyes, and with dejected Heart.
Swift fled the Youth; nor Menelaus stands,
(Tho' sore distrest) to aid the Pylian Bands;
But bids bold Thrasymede those Troops sustain;
Himself returns to his Patroclus slain.
Gone is Antilochus (the Hero said)

Verse 794. But hope not Warriors for Achilles' Aid: Unarm'd—] This is an ingenious way of making the Valour of Achilles appear the greater; who, tho' without Arms, goes forth, in the next Book, contrary to the Expectation of Ajax and Menelaus. Dacier.

But hope not, Warriors! for Achilles' Aid:

Tho' fierce his Rage, unbounded be his Woe,
Unarm'd, he fights not with the Trojan Foe.
'Tis in our Hands alone our Hopes remain,
'Tis our own Vigour must the Dead regain;
And save our selves, while with impetuous Hate
Troy pours along, and this way rolls our Fate.
'Tis well (said Ajax) be it then thy Care
With Merion's Aid, the weighty Corse to rear;

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My self, and my bold Brother will sustain
The Shock of Hector and his charging Train:
Nor fear we Armies, fighting Side by Side;
What Troy can dare, we have already try'd,
Have try'd it, and have stood. The Hero said.
High from the Ground the Warriors heave the Dead;
A gen'ral Clamour rises at the Sight:
Loud shout the Trojans, and renew the Fight.
Not fiercer rush along the gloomy Wood,
With Rage insatiate and with Thirst of Blood,
Voracious Hounds, that many a Length before
Their furious Hunters, drive the wounded Boar;
But if the Savage turns his glaring Eye,
They howl aloof, and round the Forest fly.
Thus on retreating Greece the Trojans pour,
Wave their thick Falchions, and their Jav'lins show'r:
But Ajax turning, to their Fears they yield,
All pale they tremble, and forsake the Field.
While thus aloft the Hero's Corse they bear,
Behind them rages all the Storm of War;
Confusion, Tumult, Horror, o'er the Throng
Of Men, Steeds, Chariots, urg'd the Rout along:

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Verse 825, &c. This Heap of Images which Homer throws together at the End of this Book, makes the same Action appear with a very beautiful Variety. The Description of the burning of a City is short but very lively. That of Ajax alone bringing up the Rear Guard, and shielding those that bore the Body of Patroclus from the whole Trojan Host, gives a prodigious Idea of Ajax; and as Homer has often hinted, makes him just second to Achilles. The Image of the Beam paints the great Stature of Patroclus: That of the Hill dividing the Stream is noble and natural.

He compares the Ajaxes to a Boar, for their Fierceness and Boldness; to a long Bank that keeps off the Course of the Waters, for their standing firm and immoveable in the Battel: Those that carry the dead Body, to Mules dragging a vast Beam thro' rugged Paths, for their Laboriousness: The Body carried, to a Beam, for being heavy and inanimate: The Trojans to Dogs, for their Boldness; and to Water for their Agility and moving backwards and forwards: The Greeks to a Flight of Starlings and Jays, for their Timorousness, and Swiftness. Eustathius.

Less fierce the Winds with rising Flames conspire,

To whelm some City under Waves of Fire,
Now sink in gloomy Clouds the proud Abodes;
Now crack the blazing Temples of the Gods;
The rumbling Torrent thro' the Ruin rolls,
And Sheets of Smoak mount heavy to the Poles.
The Heroes sweat beneath their honour'd Load:
As when two Mules, along the rugged Road,
From the steep Mountain with exerted Strength
Drag some vast Beam, or Mast's unwieldy Length;
Inly they groan, big Drops of Sweat distill,
Th'enormous Timber lumbring down the Hill.
So these—Behind, the Bulk of Ajax stands,
And breaks the Torrent of the rushing Bands.
Thus when a River swell'd with sudden Rains
Spreads his broad Waters o'er the level Plains,
Some interposing Hill the Stream divides,
And breaks its Force, and turns the winding Tides.
Still close they follow, close the Rear engage;
Æneas storms, and Hector foams with Rage:
While Greece a heavy, thick Retreat maintains,
Wedg'd in one Body like a Flight of Cranes,

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That shriek incessant, while the Faulcon hung
High on pois'd Pinions, threats their callow Young.
So from the Trojan Chiefs the Grecians fly,
Such the wild Terror, and the mingled Cry.
Within, without the Trench, and all the way,
Strow'd in bright Heaps, their Arms and Armour lay;
Such Horror Jove imprest! Yet still proceeds
The Work of Death, and still the Battel bleeds.