Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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City Taken. See Siege.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
City Taken. See Siege.
Troy taken by the Greeks.
The
Trojans scatter'd o'er the Walls, lye hush'd
In Silence; Sleep relieves their weary Limbs.—
They seize the Town, immers'd in Sleep, and Wine:
Kill all the Sentries; at the open'd Gates
Receive their conscious Troops, and join their Friends.
Mean while, with Cries confus'd the Walls resound.
—Now vanquish'd by the Fire
Deiphobus' wide stately Palace falls
With noisy Ruin: Next Ucalegon
Blazes aloft: The broad Sigeïan Sea
Glares with the Conflagration: loudly sound
The Trumpet's Clangor, and the Cries of Men.
In Silence; Sleep relieves their weary Limbs.—
They seize the Town, immers'd in Sleep, and Wine:
Kill all the Sentries; at the open'd Gates
Receive their conscious Troops, and join their Friends.
Mean while, with Cries confus'd the Walls resound.
—Now vanquish'd by the Fire
Deiphobus' wide stately Palace falls
With noisy Ruin: Next Ucalegon
Blazes aloft: The broad Sigeïan Sea
Glares with the Conflagration: loudly sound
The Trumpet's Clangor, and the Cries of Men.
The Greeks now domineer in flaming Troy.
The lofty Steed amidst the City pours
Arm'd Troops, whilst Others thro' the open'd Gates
Arrive by thousands.—
Others with Arms the Passes of the Streets
Have seiz'd: their Swords with glitt'ring Blades stand drawn,
Thirsting for Blood.—
—Who the Horror of that Night,
The Ruins and Confusion can express?
Down falls the ancient City, which so long
Had proudly reign'd: Thro' Houses, thro' the Streets
And Temples, lifeless Carcasses, around,
Lie, roll'd in Heaps: Nor do the Trojans bleed
Alone: The vanquish'd in their Turn resume
Their Courage, and the conq'ring Grecians fall.
A Scene of Slaughter ev'ry where appears,
And Terror, and a thousand Shapes of Death.—
The lofty Steed amidst the City pours
Arm'd Troops, whilst Others thro' the open'd Gates
Arrive by thousands.—
Others with Arms the Passes of the Streets
Have seiz'd: their Swords with glitt'ring Blades stand drawn,
Thirsting for Blood.—
—Who the Horror of that Night,
The Ruins and Confusion can express?
Down falls the ancient City, which so long
Had proudly reign'd: Thro' Houses, thro' the Streets
And Temples, lifeless Carcasses, around,
Lie, roll'd in Heaps: Nor do the Trojans bleed
Alone: The vanquish'd in their Turn resume
163
A Scene of Slaughter ev'ry where appears,
And Terror, and a thousand Shapes of Death.—
At Priam's Palace fierce the Battle burns:
So fierce, as if in other Parts no War
Were heard, no other Slaughter thro' the Town.
Here we behold the Rage of Fight: in Crowds
The Greeks, beneath a Canopy of Shields,
Thick rushing onward, and the Royal Gates
By Siege assaulted. Scaling Ladders hang
Against the Walls: and by the Steps they strive
To gain the Doors: with their Left Hands oppose
Their Shields to Storms of Arrows, with their Right
Grasp at the Battlements. To them adverse
The Trojans tumble Roofs and Turrets down:
Seeing the Worst, and in the last Extremes
Of Death, such Arms they use for their Defence:
Rolling down gilded Beams, the stately Pomp
Of Royal Ancestors: With Swords unsheath'd,
Others stand thick below, and guard the Doors.
So fierce, as if in other Parts no War
Were heard, no other Slaughter thro' the Town.
Here we behold the Rage of Fight: in Crowds
The Greeks, beneath a Canopy of Shields,
Thick rushing onward, and the Royal Gates
By Siege assaulted. Scaling Ladders hang
Against the Walls: and by the Steps they strive
To gain the Doors: with their Left Hands oppose
Their Shields to Storms of Arrows, with their Right
Grasp at the Battlements. To them adverse
The Trojans tumble Roofs and Turrets down:
Seeing the Worst, and in the last Extremes
Of Death, such Arms they use for their Defence:
Rolling down gilded Beams, the stately Pomp
Of Royal Ancestors: With Swords unsheath'd,
Others stand thick below, and guard the Doors.
—There stood a Tower,
Tall and conspicuous, with it's lofty Roof
Rais'd to the Stars: From whence all Troy we view'd:
This we encompass round: and with our Steel,
Just where th' extremest Planks disjointed gave
Easiest Access, we rend it from on high
Push'd forward.—Swift with Ruin, loud with Noise,
It thunders down, and on the Grecian Troops
With wide Destruction falls:—But Others still
Succeed them: Nor do Stones, or any Kind
Of Weapons cease to fly.—
Tall and conspicuous, with it's lofty Roof
Rais'd to the Stars: From whence all Troy we view'd:
This we encompass round: and with our Steel,
Just where th' extremest Planks disjointed gave
Easiest Access, we rend it from on high
Push'd forward.—Swift with Ruin, loud with Noise,
It thunders down, and on the Grecian Troops
With wide Destruction falls:—But Others still
Succeed them: Nor do Stones, or any Kind
Of Weapons cease to fly.—
In the first Portal, storming at the Door,
Pyrrhus exults: with Arms and brazen Light
Refulgent.—
With him his Squire Automedon, and all
The Syrian Youth advance: and to the Top
Hurl flaming Brands.—Himself before the rest,
Grasping a Battle-Ax, the stubborn Doors
Bursts thro', and from their massy Hinges rends
The brazen Posts: Now, having hewn the Beams,
He splits their solid Timber, and a Gap
Discloses wide.—Th' interior Court appears:
Long Galleries, Priam's Rooms of State, and all
Th' imperial Pomp of ancient Kings they see,
And Sentries standing at the Doors in Arms.
Pyrrhus exults: with Arms and brazen Light
Refulgent.—
With him his Squire Automedon, and all
The Syrian Youth advance: and to the Top
Hurl flaming Brands.—Himself before the rest,
Grasping a Battle-Ax, the stubborn Doors
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The brazen Posts: Now, having hewn the Beams,
He splits their solid Timber, and a Gap
Discloses wide.—Th' interior Court appears:
Long Galleries, Priam's Rooms of State, and all
Th' imperial Pomp of ancient Kings they see,
And Sentries standing at the Doors in Arms.
But with confus'd Laments, the inner Rooms,
With Tumult, Noise, and wild Distraction, sound:
The ecchoing Palace rings with female Shrieks,
And the shrill Clamour beats the golden Stars.
From Place to Place the trembling Matrons run,
Thro' the vast Court: and cling, and hug, and kiss
The Pillars. Pyrrhus with his Father's Fire
Still pushes on: nor can the Bars, or Guards
Sustain his Fury: To the batt'ring Rams
The Gate gives Way: and from their Hinges torn
The solid Posts lie flat. A spacious Breach
Is made: the thronging Greeks break in: then kill
The first they meet: and with arm'd Soldiers croud
The rich Apartments.—
These Eyes saw Pyrrhus raging, smear'd with Gore,
And both th' Atridæ in the Entrance storm:
Amidst an hundred Daughters saw the Queen
And Priam, on the Altars, with his Blood
Pollute the hallow'd Fires, which he himself
Had consecrated.—
With Tumult, Noise, and wild Distraction, sound:
The ecchoing Palace rings with female Shrieks,
And the shrill Clamour beats the golden Stars.
From Place to Place the trembling Matrons run,
Thro' the vast Court: and cling, and hug, and kiss
The Pillars. Pyrrhus with his Father's Fire
Still pushes on: nor can the Bars, or Guards
Sustain his Fury: To the batt'ring Rams
The Gate gives Way: and from their Hinges torn
The solid Posts lie flat. A spacious Breach
Is made: the thronging Greeks break in: then kill
The first they meet: and with arm'd Soldiers croud
The rich Apartments.—
These Eyes saw Pyrrhus raging, smear'd with Gore,
And both th' Atridæ in the Entrance storm:
Amidst an hundred Daughters saw the Queen
And Priam, on the Altars, with his Blood
Pollute the hallow'd Fires, which he himself
Had consecrated.—
—Outragious Pyrrhus,
Then drag'd old Priam to the sacred Hearth,
Trembling, and sliding, on the slipp'ry Ground,
In his Son's Blood: and, twisting in his Hair
His Left Hand, with the Right his glitt'ring Sword
Deep to the Hilt he plunges in his Side.
Then drag'd old Priam to the sacred Hearth,
Trembling, and sliding, on the slipp'ry Ground,
In his Son's Blood: and, twisting in his Hair
His Left Hand, with the Right his glitt'ring Sword
Deep to the Hilt he plunges in his Side.
All Ilium now I saw among the Fires
Sinking lie flat: and from it's Bottom turn'd
Down falls Neptunian Troy. As when an Ash,
Aged, and tall, is on the Mountains hewn
By Rusticks: who in Emulation strive
With Strokes of Axes, and repeated Steel
To overturn it: oft it nods, and shakes
It's leafy Top, still tott'ring, till at length
Subdu'd by Wounds, it groans it's last, and torn
From the high Ridge, with cumbrous Ruin falls.—
Sinking lie flat: and from it's Bottom turn'd
Down falls Neptunian Troy. As when an Ash,
Aged, and tall, is on the Mountains hewn
By Rusticks: who in Emulation strive
167
To overturn it: oft it nods, and shakes
It's leafy Top, still tott'ring, till at length
Subdu'd by Wounds, it groans it's last, and torn
From the high Ridge, with cumbrous Ruin falls.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |