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The Iliad of Homer, Translated by Mr. Pope
A Translation by pope (1715)
Digital text source: University of Michigan Library (TCP).
This work is in the public domain and provided under the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication.
Table of Contents
Books of the Iliad
Observations
PREFACE.
HOMER is universally allow’d to have had the greatest Invention of any Writer whatever. The Praise of Judgment Virgil has justly contested with him, and others may have their Pretensions as to particular Excellencies; but his Invention remains yet unrival’d. Nor is it a Wonder if he has ever been acknowledg’d the greatest of Poets, who most excell’d in That which is the very Foundation of Poetry. It is the Invention that in different degrees distinguishes all great Genius’s: The utmost Stretch of human Study, Learning, and Industry, which masters every thing besides, can never attain to this. It furnishes Art with all her Materials, and without it Judgment itself can at best but steal wisely: For Art is only like a prudent Steward that lives on managing the Riches of Nature. Whatever Praises may be given to Works of Judgment, there is not even a single Beauty in them but is owing to the Invention: As in the most regular Gardens, however Art may carry the greatest Appearance, there is not a Plant or Flower but is the Gift of Nature. The first can only reduce the Beauties of the latter into a more obvious Figure, which the common Eye may better take in, and is therefore more entertain’d with. And perhaps the reason why most Criticks are inclin’d to prefer a judicious and methodical Genius to a great and fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pursue their Observations through an uniform and bounded Walk of Art, than to comprehend the vast and various Extent of Nature.
Our Author’s Work is a wild Paradise, where if we cannot see all the Beauties so distinctly as in an order’d Garden, it is only because the Number of them is infinitely greater. ’Tis like a copious Nursery which contains the Seeds and first Productions of every kind, out of which those who follow’d him have but selected some particular Plants, each according to his Fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things are too luxuriant, it is owing to the Richness of the Soil; and if others are not arriv’d to Perfection or Maturity, it is only because they are over-run and opprest by those of a stronger Nature.
It is to the Strength of this amazing Invention we are to attribute that unequal’d Fire and Rapture, which is so forcible in Homer, that no Man of a true Poetical Spirit is Master of himself while he reads him. What he writes is of the most animated Nature imaginable; every thing moves, every thing lives, and is put in Action. If a Council be call’d, or a Battel fought, you are not coldly inform’d of what was said or done as from a third Person; the Reader is hurry’d out of himself by the Force of the Poet’s Imagination, and turns in one place to a Hearer, in another to a Spectator. The Course of his Verses resembles that of the Army he describes,
[Greek]
They pour along like a Fire that sweeps the whole Earth before it. ’Tis however remarkable that his Fancy, which is every where vigorous, is not discover’d immediately at the beginning of his Poem in its fullest Splendor: It grows in the Progress both upon himself and others, and becomes on Fire like a Chariot-Wheel, by its own Rapidity. Exact Disposition, just Thought, correct Elocution, polish’d Numbers, may have been found in a thousand; but this Poetical Fire, this Vivida vis animi, in a very few. Even in Works where all those are imperfect or neglected, this can over-power Criticism, and make us admire even while we dis-approve. Nay, where this appears, tho’ attended with Absurdities, it brightens all the Rubbish about it, ’till we see nothing but its own Splendor. This Fire is discern’d in Virgil, but discern’d as through a Glass, reflected, and more shining than warm, but every where equal and constant: In Lucan and Statius, it bursts out in sudden, short, and interrupted Flashes: In Milton, it glows like a Furnace kept up to an uncommon Fierceness by the Force of Art: In Shakespear, it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental Fire from Heaven: But in Homer, and in him only, it burns every where clearly, and every where irresistibly.
I shall here endeavour to show, how this vast Invention exerts itself in a manner superior to that of any Poet, thro’ all the main constituent Parts of his Work, as it is the great and peculiar Characteristick which distinguishes him from all other Authors.
This strong and ruling Faculty was like a powerful Planet, which in the Violence of its Course, drew all things within its Vortex. It seem’d not enough to have taken in the whole Circle of Arts, and the whole Compass of Nature; all the inward Passions and Affections of Mankind to supply this Characters, and all the outward Forms and Images of Things for his Descriptions; but wanting yet an ampler Sphere to expatiate in, he open’d a new and boundless Walk for his Imagination, and created a World for himself in the Invention of Fable. That which Aristotle calls the Soul of Poetry, was first breath’d into it by Homer. I shall begin with considering him in this Part, as it is naturally the first, and I speak of it both as it means the Design of a Poem, and as it is taken for Fiction.
Fable may be divided into the Probable, the Allegorical, and the Marvelous. The Probable Fable is the Recital of such Actions as tho’ they did not happen, yet might, in the common course of Nature: Or of such as tho’ they did, become Fables by the additional Episodes and manner of telling them. Of this sort is the main Story of an Epic Poem, the Return of Ulysses, the Settlement of the Trojans in Italy, or the like. That of the Iliad is the Anger of Achilles, the most short and single Subject that ever was chosen by any Poet. Yet this he has supplied with a vaster Variety of Incidents and Events, and crouded with a greater Number of Councils, Speeches, Battles, and Episodes of all kinds, than are to be found even in those Poems whose Schemes are of the utmost Latitude and Irregularity. The Action is hurry’d on with the most vehement Spirit, and its whole Duration employs not so much as fifty Days. Virgil, for want of so warm a Genius, aided himself by taking in a more extensive Subject, as well as a greater Length of Time, and contracting the Design of both Homer’s Poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The other Epic Poets have us’d the same Practice, but generally carry’d it so far as to superinduce a Multiplicity of Fables, destroy the Unity of Action, and lose their Readers in an unreasonable Length of Time. Nor is it only in the main Design that they have been unable to add to his Invention, but they have follow’d him in every Episode and Part of Story. If he has given a regular Catalogue of an Army, they all draw up their Forces in the same Order. If he has funeral Games for Patroclus, Virgil has the same for Anchises, and Statius (rather than omit them) destroys the Unity of his Action for those of Archemorus. If Ulysses visit the Shades, the Aeneas of Virgil and Scipio of Silius are sent after him. If he be detain’d from his Return by the Allurements of Calypso, so is Aeneas by Dido, and Rinaldo by Armida. If Achilles be absent from the Army on the Score of a Quarrel thro’ half the Poem, Rinaldo must absent himself just as long, on the like account. If he gives his Heroe a Suit of celestial Armour, Virgil and Tasso make the same Present to theirs. Virgil has not only observ’d this close Imitation of Homer, but where he had not led the way, supply’d the Want from other Greek Authors. Thus the Story of Sinon and the Taking of Troy was copied (says Macrobius ) almost word for word from Pisander, as the Loves of Dido and Aeneas are taken from those of Medaea and Jason in Apollonius, and several others in the same manner.
To proceed to the Allegorical Fable: If we reflect upon those innumerable Knowledges, those Secrets of Nature and Physical Philosophy which Homer is generally suppos’d to have wrapt up in his Allegories, what a new and ample Scene of Wonder may this Consideration afford us? How fertile will that Imagination appear, which was able to cloath all the Properties of Elements, the Qualifications of the Mind, the Virtues and Vices, in Forms and Persons; and to introduce them into Actions agreeable to the Nature of the Things they shadow’d? This is a Field in which no succeeding Poets could dispute with Homer; and whatever Commendations have been allow’d them on this Head, are by no means for their Invention in having enlarg’d his Circle, but for their Judgment in having contracted it. For when the Mode of Learning chang’d in following Ages, and Science was deliver’d in a plainer manner, it then became as reasonable in the more modern Poets to lay it aside, as it was in Homer to make use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy Circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his Time that Demand upon him of so great an Invention, as might be capable of furnishing all those Allegorical Parts of a Poem.
The Marvelous Fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially the Machines of the Gods. If Homer was not the first who introduc’d the Deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the Religion of Greece, he seems the first who brought them into a System of Machinery for Poetry, and such an one as makes its greatest Importance and Dignity. For we find those Authors who have been offended at the literal Notion of the Gods, constantly laying their Accusation against Homer as the undoubted Inventor of them. But whatever cause there might be to blame his Machines in a Philosophical or Religious View, they are so perfect in the Poetick, that Mankind have been ever since contented to follow them: None have been able to enlarge the Sphere of Poetry beyond the Limits he has set: Every Attempt of this Nature has prov’d unsuccessful; and after all the various Changes of Times and Religions, his Gods continue to this Day the Gods of Poetry.
We come now to the Characters of his Persons, and here we shall find no Author has ever drawn so many with so visible and surprizing a Variety, or given us such lively and affecting Impressions of them. Every one has something so singularly his own, that no Painter could have distinguish’d them more by their Features, than the Poet has by their Manners. Nothing can be more exact than the Distinctions he has observ’d in the different degrees of Virtues and Vices. The single Quality of Courage is wonderfully diversify’d in the several Characters of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and intractable; that of Diomede forward, yet listening to Advice and subject to Command: We see in Ajax an heavy and selfconsidering Valour, in Hector an active and vigilant one: The Courage of Agamemnon is inspirited by Love of Empire and Ambition, that of Menelaus mix’d with Softness and Tenderness for his People: We find in Idomeneus a plain direct Soldier, in Sarpedon a gallant and generous one. Nor is this judicious and astonishing Diversity to be found only in the principal Quality which constitutes the Main of each Character, but even in the Under-parts of it, to which he takes care to give a Tincture of that principal one. For Example, the main Characters of Ulysses and Nestor consist in Wisdom, and they are distinct in this; the Wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural, open, and regular. But they have, besides, Characters of Courage; and this Quality also takes a different Turn in each from the difference of his Prudence: For one in the War depends still upon Caution, the other upon Experience. It would be endless to produce Instances of these Kinds. The Characters of Virgil are far from striking us in this open manner; they lie in a great degree hidden and undistinguish’d, and where they are mark’d most evidently, affect us not in proportion to those of Homer. His Characters of Valour are much alike; even that of Turnus seems no way peculiar but as it is in a superior degree; and we see nothing that differences the Courage of Mnestheus from that of Sergesthus, Cloanthus, or the rest. In like manner it may be remark’d of Statius’s Heroes, that an Air of Impetuosity runs thro’ them all; the same horrid and savage Courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus, Hippomedon, &c. They have a Parity of Character which makes them seem Brothers of one Family. I believe when the Reader is led into this Track of Reflection, if he will pursue it through the Epic and Tragic Writers, he will be convinced how infinitely superior in this Point the Invention of Homer was to that of all others.
The Speeches are to be consider’d as they flow from the Characters, being perfect or defective as they agree or disagree with the Manners of those who utter them. As there is more variety of Characters in the Iliad, so there is of Speeches, than in any other Poem. Every thing in it has Manners (as Aristotle expresses it) that is, every thing is acted or spoken. It is hardly credible in a Work of such length, how small a Number of Lines are employ’d in Narration. In Virgil the Dramatic Part is less in proportion to the Narrative; and the Speeches often consist of general Reflections or Thoughts, which might be equally just in any Person’s Mouth upon the same Occasion. As many of his Persons have no apparent Characters, so many of his Speeches escape being apply’d and judg’d by the Rule of Propriety. We oftner think of the Author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are engag’d in Homer: All which are the Effects of a colder Invention, that interests us less in the Action describ’d: Homer makes us Hearers, and Virgil leaves us Readers.
If in the next place we take a View of the Sentiments, the same presiding Faculty is eminent in the Sublimity and Spirit of his Thoughts. Longinus has given his Opinion, that it was in this Part Homer principally excell’d. What were alone sufficient to prove the Grandeur and Excellence of his Sentiments in general, is that they have so remarkable a Parity with those of the Scripture: Duport, in his Gnomologia Homerica, has collected innumerable Instances of this sort. And it is with Justice an excellent modern Writer allows, that if Virgil has not so many Thoughts that are low and vulgar, he has not so many that are sublime and noble; and that the Roman Author seldom rises into very astonishing Sentiments where he is not fired by the Iliad. If we observe his Descriptions, Images, and Similes, we shall find the Invention still predominant. To what else can we ascribe that vast Comprehension of Images of every sort, where we see each Circumstance and Individual of Nature summon’d together by the Extent and Fecundity of his Imagination; to which all things, in their various Views, presented themselves in an Instant, and had their Impressions taken off to Perfection at a Heat? Nay, he not only gives us the full Prospects of Things, but several unexpected Peculiarities and Side-Views, unobserv’d by any Painter but Homer. Nothing is so surprizing as the Descriptions of his Battels, which take up no less than half the Iliad, and are supply’d with so vast a Variety of Incidents, that no one bears a Likeness to another; such different Kinds of Deaths, that no two Heroes are wounded in the same manner; and such a Profusion of noble Ideas, that every Battel rises above the last in Greatness, Horror, and Confusion. It is certain there is not near that Number of Images and Descriptions in any Epic Poet; tho’ every one has assisted himself with a great Quantity out of him: And it is evident of Virgil especially, that he has scarce any Comparisons which are not drawn from his Master.
If we descend from hence to the Expression, we see the bright Imagination of Homer shining out in the most enliven’d Forms of it. We acknowledge him the Father of Poetical Diction, the first who taught that Language of the Gods to Men. His Expression is like the colouring of some great Masters, which discovers itself to be laid on boldly, and executed with Rapidity. It is indeed the strongest and most glowing imaginable, and touch’d with the greatest Spirit. Aristotle had reason to say, He was the only Poet who had found out Living Words; there are in him more daring Figures and Metaphors than in any good Author whatever. An Arrow is impatient to be on the Wing, a Weapon thirsts to drink the Blood of an Enemy, and the like. Yet his Expression is never too big for the Sense, but justly great in proportion to it: ’Tis the Sentiment that swells and fills out the Diction, which rises with it, and forms itself about it. For in the same degree that a Thought is warmer, an Expression will be brighter; and as That is more strong, This will become more perspicuous: Like Glass in the Furnace which grows to a greater Magnitude, and refines to a greater Clearness, only as the Breath within is more powerful, and the Heat more intense.
To throw his Language more out of Prose, Homer seems to have affected the Compound-Epithets. This was a sort of Composition peculiarly proper to Poetry, not only as it heighten’d the Diction, but as it assisted and fill’d the Numbers with greater Sound and Pomp, and likewise conduced in some measure to thicken the Images. On this last Consideration I cannot but attribute these to the Fruitfulness of his Invention, since (as he has manag’d them) they are a sort of supernumerary Pictures of the Persons or Things they are join’d to. We see the Motion of Hector’s Plumes in the Epithet [Greek], the Landscape of Mount Neritus in that of [Greek], and so of others; which particular Images could not have been insisted upon so long as to express them in a Description (tho’ but of a single Line) without diverting the Reader too much from the principal Action or Figure. As a Metaphor is a short Simile, one of these Epithets is a short Description.
Lastly, if we consider his Versification, we shall be sensible what a Share of Praise is due to his Invention in that also. He was not satisfy’d with his Language as he found it settled in any one Part of Greece, but search’d thro’ its differing Dialects with this particular View, to beautify and perfect his Numbers: He consider’d these as they had a greater Mixture of Vowels or Consonants, and accordingly employ’d them as the Verse requir’d either a greater Smoothness or Strength. What he most affected was the Ionic, which has a peculiar Sweetness from its never using Contractions, and from its Custom of resolving the Diphthongs into two Syllables; so as to make the Words open themselves with a more spreading and sonorous Fluency. With this he mingled the Attic Contractions, the broader Doric, and the feebler Aeolic, which often rejects its Aspirate, or takes off its Accent; and compleated this Variety by altering some Letters with the License of Poetry. Thus his Measures, instead of being Fetters to his Sense, were always in readiness to run along with the Warmth of his Rapture; and even to give a farther Representation of his Notions, in the Correspondence of their Sounds to what they signify’d. Out of all these he has deriv’d that Harmony, which makes us confess he had not only the richest Head, but the finest Ear in the World. This is so great a Truth, that whoever will but consult the Tune of his Verses even without understanding them (with the same sort of Diligence as we daily see practis’d in the Case of Italian Opera’s ) will find more Sweetness, Variety, and Majesty of Sound, than in any other Language or Poetry. The Beauty of his Numbers is allow’d by the Criticks to be copied but faintly by Virgil himself, tho’ they are so just to ascribe it to the Nature of the Latine Tongue. Indeed the Greek has some Advantages both from the natural Sound of its Words, and the Turn and Cadence of its Verse, which agree with the Genius of no other Language. Virgil was very sensible of this, and used the utmost Diligence in working up a more intractable Language to whatsoever Graces it was capable of, and in particular never fail’d to bring the Sound of his Line to a beautiful Agreement with its Sense. If the Grecian Poet has not been so frequently celebrated on this Account as the Roman, the only reason is, that fewer Criticks have understood one Language than the other. Dionysius of Halicarnassus has pointed out many of our Author’s Beauties in this kind, in his Treatise of the Composition of Words, and others will be taken notice of in the Course of the Notes. It suffices at present to observe of his Numbers, that they flow with so much ease, as to make one imagine Homer had no other care than to transcribe as fast as the Muses dictated; and at the same time with so much Force and inspiriting Vigour, that they awaken and raise us like the Sound of a Trumpet. They roll along as a plentiful River, always in motion, and always full; while we are born away by a Tide of Verse, the most rapid, and yet the most smooth imaginable.
Thus on whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us is his Invention. It is that which forms the Character of each Part of his Work; and accordingly we find it to have made his Fable more extensive and copious than any other, his Manners more lively and strongly marked, his Speeches more affecting and transported, his Sentiments more warm and sublime, his Images and Descriptions more full and animated, his Expression more rais’d and daring, and his Numbers more rapid and various. I hope in what has been said of Virgil with regard to any of these Heads, I have no way derogated from his Character. Nothing is more absurd or endless, than the common Method of comparing eminent Writers by an Opposition of particular Passages in them, and forming a Judgment from thence of their Merit upon the whole. We ought to have a certain Knowledge of the principal Character and distinguishing Excellence of each: It is in that we are to consider him, and in proportion to his Degree in that we are to admire him. No Author or Man ever excell’d all the World in more than one Faculty, and as Homer has done this in Invention, Virgil has in Judgment. Not that we are to think Homer wanted Judgment, because Virgil had it in a more eminent degree; or that Virgil wanted Invention, because Homer possest a larger share of it: Each of these great Authors had more of both than perhaps any Man besides, and are only said to have less in Comparison with one another. Homer was the greater Genius, Virgil the better Artist. In one we most admire the Man, in the other the Work. Homer hurries and transports us with a commanding Impetuosity, Virgil leads us with an attractive Majesty: Homer scatters with a generous Profusion, Virgil bestows with a careful Magnificence: Homer, like the Nile, pours out his Riches with a sudden Overflow; Virgil like a River in its Banks, with a gentle and constant Stream. When we behold their Battels, methinks the two Poets resemble the Heroes they celebrate: Homer, boundless and irresistible as Achilles, bears all before him, and shines more and more as the Tumult increases; Virgil, calmly daring like Aeneas, appears undisturb’d in the midst of the Action, disposes all about him, and conquers with Tranquillity: And when we look upon their Machines, Homer seems like his own Jupiter in his Terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the Lightnings, and firing the Heavens; Virgil, like the same Power in his Benevolence, counselling with the Gods, laying Plans for Empires, and regularly ordering his whole Creation.
But after all, it is with great Parts as with great Virtues, they naturally border on some Imperfection; and it is often hard to distinguish exactly where the Virtue ends, or the Fault begins. As Prudence may sometimes sink to Suspicion, so may a great Judgment decline to Coldness; and as Magnanimity may run up to Profusion or Extravagance, so may a great Invention to Redundancy or Wildness. If we look upon Homer in this View, we shall perceive the chief Objections against him to proceed from so noble a Cause as the Excess of this Faculty.
Among these we may reckon some of his Marvellous Fictions, upon which so much Criticism has been spent as surpassing all the Bounds of Probability. Perhaps it may be with great and superior Souls as with gigantick Bodies, which exerting themselves with unusual Strength, exceed what is commonly thought the due Proportion of Parts, to become Miracles in the whole; and like the old Heroes of that Make, commit something near Extravagance amidst a Series of glorious and inimitable Performances. Thus Homer has his speaking Horses, and Virgil his Myrtles distilling Blood, without so much as contriving the easy Intervention of a Deity to save the Probability.
It is owing to the same vast Invention that his Similes have been thought too exuberant and full of Circumstances. The Force of this Faculty is seen in nothing more, than its Inability to confine itself to that single Circumstance upon which the Comparison is grounded: It runs out into Embellishments of additional Images, which however are so manag’d as not to overpower the main one. His Similes are like Pictures, where the principal Figure has not only its proportion given agreeable to the Original, but is also set off with occasional Ornaments and Prospects. The same will account for his manner of heaping a Number of Comparisons together in one Breath, when his Fancy suggested to him at once so many various and correspondent Images. The Reader will easily extend this Observation to more Objections of the same kind.
If there are others which seem rather to charge him with a Defect or Narrowness of Genius, than an Excess of it; those seeming Defects will be found upon Examination to proceed wholly from the Nature of the Times he liv’d in. Such are his grosser Representations of the Gods, and the vicious and imperfect Manners of his Heroes, which will be treated of in the following 1.1 Essay: But I must here speak a word of the latter, as it is a Point generally carry’d into Extreams both by the Censurers and Defenders of Homer. It must be a strange Partiality to Antiquity to think with Madam Dacier,*
"that † 1.2 those Times and Manners are so much the more excellent, as they are more contrary to ours"
Who can be so prejudiced in their Favour as to magnify the Felicity of those Ages, when a Spirit of Revenge and Cruelty reign’d thro’ the World, when no Mercy was shown but for the sake of Lucre, when the greatest Princes were put to the Sword, and their Wives and Daughters made Slaves and Concubines? On the other side I would not be so delicate as those modern Criticks, who are shock’d at the servile Offices and mean Employments in which we sometimes see the Heroes of Homer engag’d. There is a Pleasure in taking a view of that Simplicity in Opposition to the Luxury of succeeding Ages; in beholding Monarchs without their Guards, Princes tending their Flocks, and Princesses drawing Water from the Springs. When we read Homer, we ought to reflect that we are reading the most ancient Author in the Heathen World; and those who consider him in this Light, will double their Pleasure in the Perusal of him. Let them think they are growing acquainted with Nations and People that are now no more; that they are stepping almost three thousand Years backward into the remotest Antiquity, and entertaining themselves with a clear and surprizing Vision of Things no where else to be found, and the only authentick Picture of that ancient World. By this means alone their greatest Obstacles will vanish; and what usually creates their Dislike, will become a Satisfaction.
This Consideration may farther serve to answer for the constant Use of the same Epithets to his Gods and Heroes, such as the far-darting Phoebus, the blue-ey’d Pallas, the swift-footed Achilles, &c. which some have censured as impertinent and tediously repeated. Those of the Gods depended upon the Powers and Offices then believ’d to belong to them, and had contracted a Weight and Veneration from the Rites and solemn Devotions in which they were us’d: They were a sort of Attributes that it was a Matter of Religion to salute them with on all Occasions, and an Irreverence to omit. As for the Epithets of great Men, Mons. Boileau is of Opinion; that they were in the Nature of Surnames, and repeated as such; for the Greeks having no Names deriv’d from their Fathers, were oblig’d when they mention’d any one to add some other Distinction; either naming his Parents expressly, or his Place of Birth, Profession, or the like: As Alexander Son of Philip, Herodotus of Halicarnassus, Diogenes the Cynic, &c. Homer therefore complying with the Custom of his Countrey, us’d such distinctive Additions as better agreed with Poetry. And indeed we have something parallel to these in modern Times, such as the Names of Harold Harefoot, Edmund Ironside, Edward Long-shanks, Edward the black Prince, &c. If yet this be thought to account better for the Propriety than for the Repetition, I shall add a farther Conjecture. Hesiod dividing the World into its Ages, has plac’d a fourth Age between the Brazen and the Iron one, of Heroes distinct from other Men, a divine Race, who fought at Thebes and Troy, are called Demi-Gods, and live by the Care of Jupiter in the Islands of the Blessed * 1.3 . Now among the divine Honours which were paid them, they might have this also in common with the Gods, not to be mention’d without the Solemnity of an Epithet, and such as might be acceptable to them by its celebrating their Families, Actions, or Qualities.
What other Cavils have been rais’d against Homer are such as hardly deserve a Reply, but will yet be taken notice of as they occur in the Course of the Work. Many have been occasion’d by an injudicious Endeavour to exalt Virgil; which is much the same, as if one should think to praise the Superstructure by undermining the Foundation: One would imagine by the whole Course of their Parallels, that these Criticks never so much as heard of Homer’s having written first; a Consideration which whoever compares these two Poets ought to have always in his Eye. Some accuse him for the same things which they overlook or praise in the other; as when they prefer the Fable and Moral of the Aeneis to those of the Iliad, for the same Reasons which might set the Odysses above the Aeneis: as that the Heroe is a wiser Man; and the Action of the one more beneficial to his Countrey than that of the other: Or else they blame him for not doing what he never design’d; as because Achilles is not as good and perfect a Prince as Aeneas, when the very Moral of his Poem requir’d a contrary Character. It is thus that Rapin judges in his Comparison of Homer and Virgil. Others select those particular Passages of Homer which are not so labour’d as some that Virgil drew out of them: This is the whole Management of Scaliger in his Poetices. Others quarrel with what they take for low and mean Expressions, sometimes thro’ a false Delicacy and Refinement, oftner from an Ignorance of the Graces of the Original; and then triumph in the Aukwardness of their own Translations.
This is the Conduct of Perault in his Parallels. Lastly, there are others, who pretending to a fairer Proceeding, distinguish between the personal Merit of Homer, and that of his Work; but when they come to assign the Causes of the great Reputation of the Iliad, they found it upon the Ignorance of his Times, and the Prejudice of those that followed. And in pursuance of this Principle, they make those Accidents (such as the Contention of the Cities, &c. ) to be the Causes of his Fame, which were in Reality the Consequences of his Merit. The same might as well be said of Virgil, or any great Author, whose general Character will infallibly raise many casual Additions to their Reputation. This is the Method of Mons. de la Motte; who yet confesses upon the whole, that in whatever Age Homer had liv’d he must have been the greatest Poet of his Nation, and that he may be said in this Sense to be the Master even of those who surpass’d him.
In all these Objections we see nothing that contradicts his Title to the Honour of the chief Invention; and as long as this (which is indeed the Characteristic of Poetry itself) remains unequal’d by his Followers, he still continues superior to them. A cooler Judgment may commit fewer Faults, and be more approv’d in the Eves of One Sort of Criticks: but that Warmth of Fancy will carry the loudest and most universal Applauses which holds the Heart of a Reader under the strongest Enchantment. Homer not only appears the Inventor of Poetry, but excells all the Inventors of other Arts in this, that he has swallow’d up the Honour of those who succeeded him. What he has done admitted no Encrease, it only lest room for Contraction or Regulation. He shew’d all the Stretch of Fancy at once; and if he has fail’d in some of his Flights, it was but because he attempted every thing. A Work of this kind seems like a mighty Tree which rises from the most vigorous Seed, is improv’d with Industry, flourishes, and produces the finest Fruit; Nature and Art have conspir’d to raise it; Pleasure and Profit join’d to make it valuable: and they who find the justest Faults, have only said, that a few Branches (which run luxuriant thro’ a Richness of Nature) might be lopp’d into Form to give it a more regular Appearance.
Having now spoken of the Beauties and Defects of the Original, it remains to treat of the Translation, with the same View to the chief Characteristic. As far as that is seen in the main Parts of the Poem, such as the Fable, Manners, and Sentiments, no Translator can prejudice it but by wilful Omissions or Contractions. As it also breaks out in every particular Image, Description, and Simile; whoever lessens or too much softens those, takes off from this chief Character. It is the first grand Duty of an Interpreter to give his Author entire and unmaim’d; and for the rest, the Diction and Versification only are his proper Province; since these must be his own, but the others he is to take as he finds them.
It should then be consider’d what Methods may afford some Equivalent in our Language for the Graces of these in the Greek. It is certain no literal Translation can be just to an excellent Original in a superior Language: but it is a great Mistake to imagine (as many have done) that a rash Paraphrase can make amends for this general Defect; which is no less in danger to lose the Spirit of an Ancient, by deviating into the modern Manners of Expression. If there be sometimes a Darkness, there is often a Light in Antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a Version almost literal. I know no Liberties one ought to take, but those which are necessary for transfusing the Spirit of the Original, and supporting the Poetical Style of the Translation: and I will venture to say, there have not been more Men misled in former times by a servile dull Adherence to the Letter, than have been deluded in ours by a chimerical insolent Hope of raising and improving their Author. It is not to be doubted that the Fire of the Poem is what a Translator should principally regard, as it is most likely to expire in his managing: However it is his safest way to be content with preserving this to his utmost in the Whole, without endeavouring to be more than he finds his Author is, in any particular Place. ’Tis a great Secret in Writing to know when to be plain, and when poetical and figurative; and it is what Homer will teach us if we will but follow modestly in his Footsteps. Where his Diction is bold and lofty, let us raise ours as high as we can; but where his is plain and humble, we ought not to be deterr’d from imitating him by the fear of incurring the Censure of a meer English Critick. Nothing that belongs to Homer seems to have been more commonly mistaken than the just Pitch of his Style: Some of his Translators having swell’d into Fustian in a proud Confidence of the Sublime; others sunk into Flatness in a cold and timorous Notion of Simplicity. Methinks I see these different Followers of Homer, some sweating and straining after him by violent Leaps and Bounds, (the certain Signs of false Mettle) others slowly and servilely creeping in his Train, while the Poet himself is all the time proceeding with an unaffected and equal Majesty before them. However of the two Extreams one could sooner pardon Frenzy than Frigidity: No Author is to be envy’d for such Commendations as he may gain by that Character of Style, which his Friends must agree together to call Simplicity, and the rest of the World will call Dulness. There is a graceful and dignify’d Simplicity, as well as a bald and sordid one, which differ as much from each other as the Air of a plain Man from that of a Sloven: ’Tis one thing to be tricked up, and another not to be dress’d at all. Simplicity is the Mean between Ostentation and Rusticity.
This pure and noble Simplicity is no where in such Perfection as in the Scripture and our Author. One may affirm with all respect to the inspired Writings, that the Divine Spirit made use of no other Words but what were intelligible and common to Men at that Time, and in that Part of the World; and as Homer is the Author nearest to those, his Style must of course bear a greater Resemblance to the sacred Books than that of any other Writer. This Consideration (together with what has been observ’d of the Parity of some of his Thoughts) may methinks induce a Translator on the one hand to give into several of those general Phrases and Manners of Expression, which have attain’d a Veneration even in our Language from their use in the Old Testament; as on the other, to avoid those which have been appropriated to the Divinity, and in a manner consign’d to Mystery and Religion.
For a farther Preservation of this Air of Simplicity, a particular Care should be taken to express with all Plainness those Moral Sentences and Proverbial Speeches which are so numerous in this Poet. They have something Venerable, and as I may say Oracular, in that unadorn’d Gravity and Shortness with which they are deliver’d: a Grace which would be utterly lost by endeavouring to give them what we call a more ingenious (that is a more modern) Turn in the Paraphrase.
〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 Perhaps the Mixture of some Graecisms and old Words after the manner of Milton, if done without too much Affectation, might not have an ill Effect in a Version of this particular Work, which most of any other seems to require a venerable Antique Cast. But certainly the use of modern Terms of War and Government, such as Platoon, Campagne, Junto, or the like (which some of his Translators have fallen into) cannot be allowable; those only excepted, without which it is impossible to treat the Subjects in any living Language.
There are two Peculiarities in Homer’s Diction that are a sort of Marks or Moles, by which every common Eye distinguishes him at first sight: Those who are not his greatest Admirers look upon them as Defects, and those who are seem pleased with them as Beauties. I speak of his Compound-Epithets and of his Repetitions. Many of the former cannot be done literally into English without destroying the Purity of our Language. I believe such should be retain’d as slide easily of themselves into an English-Compound, without Violence to the Ear or to the receiv’d Rules of Composition; as well as those which have receiv’d a Sanction from the Authority of our best Poets, and are become familiar thro’ their use of them; such as the Cloud-compelling Jove, &c. As for the rest, whenever any can be as fully and significantly exprest in a single word as in a compounded one, the Course to be taken is obvious.
Some that cannot be so turn’d as to preserve their full Image by one or two Words, may have Justice done them by Circumlocution; as the Epithet [Greek]to a Mountain would appear little or ridiculous translated literally Leaf-shaking, but affords a majestic Idea in the Periphrasis: The lofty Mountains shakes his waving Woods. Others that admit of differing Significations, may receive an Advantage by a judicious Variation according to the Occasions on which they are introduc’d. For Example, the Epithet of Apollo, [Greek], or far-shooting, is capable of two Explications; one literal in respect of the Darts and Bow, the Ensigns of that God; the other allegorical with regard to the Rays of the Sun: Therefore in such Places where Apollo is represented as a God in Person, I would use the former Interpretation, and where the Effects of the Sun are describ’d, I would make choice of the latter. Upon the whole, it will be necessary to avoid that perpetual Repetition of the same Epithets which we find in Homer, and which, tho’ it might be accommodated (as has been already shewn) to the Ear of those Times, is by no means so to ours: But one may wait for Opportunities of placing them, where they derive an additional Beauty from the Occasions on which they are employed; and in doing this properly, a Translator may at once shew his Fancy and his Judgment.
As for Homer’s Repetitions; we may divide them into three sorts; of whole Narrations and Speeches, of single Sentences, and of one Verse or Hemistich. I hope it is not impossible to have such a Regard to these, as neither to lose so known a Mark of the Author on the one hand, nor to offend the Reader too much on the other. The Repetition is not ungraceful in those Speeches where the Dignity of the Speaker renders it a sort of Insolence to alter his Words; as in the Messages from Gods to Men, or from higher Powers to Inferiors in Concerns of State, or where the Ceremonial of Religion seems to require it, in the solemn Forms of Prayers, Oaths, or the like. In other Cases, I believe the best Rule is to be guided by the Nearness, or Distance, at which the Repetitions are plac’d in the Original: When they follow too close one may vary the Expression, but it is a Question whether a profess’d Translator be authorized to omit any: If they be tedious, the Author is to answer for it.
It only remains to speak of the Versification. Homer (as has been said) is perpetually applying the Sound to the Sense, and varying it on every new Subject. This is indeed one of the most exquisite Beauties of Poetry, and attainable by very few: I know only of Homer eminent for it in the Greek, and Virgil in Latine. I am sensible it is what may sometimes happen by Chance, when a Writer is warm, and fully possest of his Image: however it may be reasonably believed they design’d this, in whose Verse it so manifestly appears in a superior degree to all others. Few Readers have the Ear to be Judges of it, but those who have will see I have endeavour’d at this Beauty.
Upon the whole, I must confess my self utterly incapable of doing Justice to Homer. I attempt him in no other Hope but that which one may entertain without much Vanity, of giving a more tolerable Copy of him than any entire Translation in Verse has yet done. We have only those of Chapman, Hobbes, and Ogilby. Chapman has taken the Advantage of an immeasurable Length of Verse, notwithstanding which there is scarce any Paraphrase more loose and rambling than his. He has frequent Interpolations of four or six Lines, and I remember one in the thirteenth Book of the Odysses, ver. 312. where he has spun twenty Verses out of two. He is often mistaken in so bold a manner, that one might think he deviated on purpose, if he did not in other Places of his Notes insist so much upon Verbal Trifles. He appears to have had a strong Affectation of extracting new Meanings out of his Author, insomuch as to promise in his Rhyming Preface, a Poem of the Mysteries he had revealed in Homer; and perhaps he endeavoured to strain the obvious Sense to this End. His Expression is involved in Fustian, a Fault for which he was remarkable in his Original Writings, as in the Tragedy of Bussyd’ Amboise, &c. In a word, the Nature of the Man may account for his whole Performance; for he appears from his Preface and Remarks to have been of an arrogant Turn, and an Enthusiast in Poetry. His own Boast of having finish’d half the Iliad in less than fifteen Weeks, shews with what Negligence his Version was performed. But that which is to be allowed him, and which very much contributed to cover his Defects, is a daring fiery Spirit that animates his Translation, which is something like what one might imagine Homer himself would have writ before he arriv’d to Years of Discretion. Hobbes has given us a correct Explanation of the Sense in general, but for Particulars and Circumstances he continually lopps them, and often omits the most beautiful. As for its being esteem’d a close Translation, I doubt not many have been led into that Error by the Shortness of it, which proceeds not from his following the Original Line by Line, but from the Contractions above-mentioned. He sometimes omits whole Similes and Sentences, and is now and then guilty of Mistakes which no Writer of his Learning could have fallen into, but thro’ Carelesness. His Poetry, as well as Ogilby’s, is too mean for Criticism.
It is a great Loss to the Poetical World that Mr. Dryden did not live to translate the Iliad. He has left us only the first Book and a small Part of the sixth; in which if he has in some Places not truly interpreted the Sense, or preserved the Antiquities, it ought to be excused on account of the Haste he was obliged to write in. He seems to have had too much Regard to Chapman, whose Words he sometimes copies, and has unhappily follow’d him in Passages where he wanders from the Original. However had he translated the whole Work, I would no more have attempted Homer after him than Virgil, his Version of whom (notwithstanding some human Errors) is the most noble and spirited Translation I know in any Language. But the Fate of great Genius’s is like that of great Ministers, tho’ they are confessedly the first in the Commonwealth of Letters, they must be envy’d and calumniated only for being at the Head of it.
That which in my Opinion ought to be the Endeavour of any one who translates Homer, is above all things to keep alive that Spirit and Fire which makes his chief Character. In particular Places, where the Sense can bear any Doubt, to follow the strongest and most Poetical, as most agreeing with that Character. To copy him in all the Variations of his Style, and the different Modulations of his Numbers. To preserve in the more active or descriptive Parts, a Warmth and Elevation; in the more sedate or narrative, a Plainness and Solemnity; in the Speeches a Fulness and Perspicuity; in the Sentences a Shortness and Gravity. Not to neglect even the little Figures and Turns on the Words, nor sometimes the very Cast of the Periods. Neither to omit or confound any Rites or Customs of Antiquity. Perhaps too he ought to include the whole in a shorter Compass, than has hitherto been done by any Translator who has tolerably preserved either the Sense or Poetry. What I would farther recommend to him, is to study his Author rather from his own Text than from any Commentaries, how learned soever, or whatever Figure they make in the Estimation of the World. To consider him attentively in Comparison with Virgil above all the Ancients, and with Milton above all the Moderns. Next these the Archbishop of Cambray’s Telemachus may give him the truest Idea of the Spirit and Turn of our Author, and Bossu’s admirable Treatise of the Epic Poem the justest Notion of his Design and Conduct. But after all, with whatever Judgment and Study a Man may proceed, or with whatever Happiness he may perform such a Work; he must hope to please but a few, those only who have at once a Taste of Poetry, and competent Learning. For to satisfy such as want either, is not in the Nature of this Undertaking; since a meer Modern Wit can like nothing that is not Modern, and a Pedant nothing that is not Greek. What I have done is submitted to the Publick, from whose Opinions I am prepared to learn; tho’ I fear no Judges so little as our best Poets, who are most sensible of the Weight of this Task. As for the worst, whatever they shall please to say, they may give me some Concern as they are unhappy Men, but none as they are malignant Writers. I was guided in this Translation by Judgments very different from theirs, and by Persons for whom they can have no Kindness, if an old Observation be true, that the strongest Antipathy in the World is that of Fools to Men of Wit. Mr. Addison was the first whose Advice determin’d me to undertake this Task, who was pleas’d to write to me upon that Occasion in such Terms as I cannot repeat without Vanity. I was obliged to Sir Richard Steele for a very early Recommendation of my Undertaking to the Publick. Dr. Swift promoted my Interest with that Warmth with which he always serves his Friend. The Humanity and Frankness of Sir Samuel Garth are what I never knew wanting on any Occasion. I must also acknowledge with infinite Pleasure the many friendly Offices as well as sincere Criticisms of Mr. Congreve, who had led me the way in translating some Parts of Homer, as I wish for the sake of the World he had prevented me in the rest. I must add the Names of Mr. Rowe and Dr. Parnell, tho’ I shall take a farther Opportunity of doing Justice to the last, whose Good-nature (to give it a great Panegyrick) is no less extensive than his Learning. The Favour of these Gentlemen is not entirely undeserved by one who bears them so true an Affection. But what can I say of the Honour so many of the Great have done me, while the First Names of the Age appear as my Subscribers, and the most distinguish’d Patrons and Ornaments of Learning as my chief Encouragers. Among these it is a particular Pleasure to me to find, that my highest Obligations are to such who have done most Honour to the Name of Poet: That his Grace the Duke of Buckingham was not displeas’d I should undertake the Author to whom he has given (in his excellent Essay ) the finest Praise he ever yet receiv’d.
Read Homer once , and you can read no more; For all things else appear so mean and poor, Verse will seem Prose: yet often on him look, And you will hardly need another Book.
That the Earl of Halifax was one of the first to favour me, of whom it is hard to say whether the Advancement of the Polite Arts is more owing to his Generosity or his Example. That such a Genius as my Lord Bolingbroke, not more distinguished in the great Scenes of Business than in all the useful and entertaining Parts of Learning, has not refus’d to be the Critick of these Sheets, and the Patron of their Writer. And that so excellent an Imitator of Homer as the noble Author of the Tragedy of Heroic Love, has continu’d his Partiality to me from my writing Pastorals to my attempting the Iliad. I cannot deny my self the Pride of confessing, that I have had the Advantage not only of their Advice for the Conduct in general, but their Correction of several Particulars of this Translation.
I could say a great deal of the Pleasure of being distinguish’d by the Earl of Carnarvon, but it is almost absurd to particularize any one generous Action in a Person whose whole Life is a continued Series of them. The Right Honourable Mr. Stanhope, the present Secretary of State, will pardon my Desire of having it known that he was pleas’d to promote this Affair. The particular Zeal of Mr. Harcourt (the Son of the late Lord Chancellor) gave me a Proof how much I am honour’d in a Share of his Friendship. I must attribute to the same Motive that of several others of my Friends, to whom all Acknowledgments are render’d unnecessary by the Privileges of a familiar Correspondence: And I am satisfy’d I can no way better oblige Men of their Turn, than by my Silence.
In short, I have found more Patrons than ever Homer wanted. He would have thought himself happy to have met the same Favour at Athens, that has been shewn me by its learned Rival, the University of Oxford. If my Author had the Wits of After-Ages for his Defenders, his Translator has had the Beauties of the present for his Advocates; a Pleasure too great to be changed for any Fame in Reversion. And I can hardly envy him those pompous Honours he receiv’d after Death, when I reflect on the Enjoyment of so many agreeable Obligations, and easy Friendships which make the Satisfaction of Life. This Distinction is the more to be acknowledg’d, as it is shewn to one whose Pen has never gratify’d the Prejudices of particular Parties, or the Vanities of particular Men. Whatever the Success may prove, I shall never repent of an Undertaking in which I have experienc’d the Candour and Friendship of so many Persons of Merit; and in which I hope to pass some of those Years of Youth that are generally lost in a Circle of Follies, after a manner neither wholly unuseful to others, nor disagreeable to my self.
AN ESSAY ON THE LIFE, WRITINGS and LEARNING, OF HOMER.
THERE is something in the Mind of Man, which goes beyond bare Curiosity, and even carries us on to a Shadow of Friendship with those great Genius’s whom we have known to excel in former Ages. Nor will it appear less to any one, who considers how much it partakes of the Nature of Friendship; how it compounds itself of an Admiration rais’d by what we meet with concerning them; a Tendency to be farther acquainted with them, by gathering every Circumstance of their Lives; a kind of Complacency in their Company, when we retire to enjoy what they have left; an Union with them in those Sentiments they approve; and an Endeavour to defend them, when we think they are injuriously attack’d, or even sometimes with too partial an Affection.
There is also in Mankind a Spirit of Envy or Opposition, which makes them uneasy to see others of the same Species seated far above them in a sort of Perfection. And this, at least so far as we speak of the Fame of Writers, has not always been known to dye with a Man entirely, but to pursue his Remains with idle Traditions, and weak Conjectures; so that his Name, which is not to be forgotten, shall be preserv’d only to be stain’d and blotted. The Controversy, which was carry’d on between the Author and his Enemies, while he yet was living, shall still be kept on foot; not entirely upon his own account, but on theirs who live after him; some being fond to praise extravagantly, and others as rashly eager to contradict his Admirers. This Proceeding, on both sides, gives us an Image of the first Descriptions of War, such as the Iliad affords; where a Heroe disputes the Field with an Army ’til it is his time to dye, and then the Battel, which we expected to fall of course, is renew’d about the Body; his Friends contending that they may embalm and honour it, his Enemies that they may cast it to the Dogs and Vultures.
There are yet others of a low kind of Taste, who, without any Malignity to the Character of a great Author, lessen the Dignity of their Subject by insisting too meanly upon little Particularities. They imagine it the Part of an Historian to omit nothing they meet concerning him whom they write upon; and gather every thing wherein he is nam’d, without any distinction, to the Prejudice or Neglect of the more noble Parts of his Character: Like those trifling Painters, or Sculptors, who bestow infinite Pains and Patience upon the most insignificant Parts of a Figure, ’till they sink the Grandeur of the Whole, by finishing every thing with the neatest Want of Judgment.
Besides these, there is a fourth sort of Men, who pretend to divest themselves of impetuous Emotions on both sides, and to get above that imperfect Idea of their Subject, which little Writers fall into; who propose to themselves a calm Search after Truth, and a rational Adherence to Probability in their historical Collections: Who neither wish to be led into the Fables of Poetry, nor are willing to support the Falsehoods of a malignant Criticism; but, endeavouring to steer in a middle way, have obtain’d a Character of failing least in the Choice of Materials for History, even from the darkest Ages.
Being therefore to write something concerning a Life, which there is little Prospect of our knowing, after it has been the fruitless Enquiry of so many Ages, and which has however been thus differently treated by Historians, I shall endeavour to speak of it, not as a Certainty, but as the Tradition, Opinion, or Collection of Authors, who have been suppos’d to write of Homer in these four preceding Methods, to which we shall also add some farther Conjectures of our own. After his Life has been thus rather spoken of than discover’d, I shall consider him historically as an Author, with regard to those Works which he has left behind him: In doing which, we may trace the degrees of Esteem they have obtain’d in different Periods of Time, and regulate our present Opinion of them, by a View of that Age in which they were written.
I. If we take a View of Homer in those fabulous Traditions which the Admiration of the ancient Heathens has occasion’d, we find them running to Superstition, and multiply’d and independent on one another, in the different Accounts which are given with respect to Aegypt and Greece, the two native Countreys of Fable.
We have one in Eustathius most strangely fram’d, which Alexander Paphius has reported concerning Homer’s Birth and Infancy. That
"He was born in Aegypt of Dmasagoras and Aethra, and brought up by a Daughter of Orus, the Priest of Isis, who was herself a Prophetess, and from whose Breasts Drops of Honey would frequently distil into the Mouth of the Infant. In the Night-time the first Sounds he utter’d were the Notes of nine several Birds: In the Morning he was found playing with nine Doves in the Bed: The Sybil, who attended him, us’d to be seiz’d with a poetical Fury, and utter Verses, in which she commanded Dmasagoras to build a Temple to the Muses: This he perform’d in Obedience to her Inspiration, and related all these things to the Child when he was grown up; who, in Memory of the Doves which play’d with him during his Infancy, has in his Works prefer’d this Bird to the Honour of bringing Ambrosia to Jupiter. "
One would think a Story of this Nature, so fit for Age to talk of, and Infancy to hear, were incapable of being handed down to us. But we find the Tradition again taken up to be heighten’d in one part, and carry’d forward in another. Heliodorus, who had heard of this Claim which Aegypt put in for Homer, endeavours to strengthen it by naming Thebes for the particular place of his Birth. He allows too, that a Priest was his reputed Father, but that his real Father, according to the Opinion of Aegypt, was Mercury: He says,
"That when the Priest was celebrating the Rites of his Countrey, and therefore slept with his Wife in the Temple, the God had knowledge of her, and begot Homer: That he was born with Tufts of Hair on his Thigh, as a Sign of unlawful Generation, from whence he was called Homer by the Nations through which he wander’d: That he himself was the occasion why this Story of his divine Extraction is unknown; because he neither told his Name, Race, nor Countrey, being asham’d of his Exile, to which his reputed Father drove him from among the consecrated Youths, on account of that Mark which their Priests esteem’d a Testimony of an incestuous Birth."
These are the extravagant Stories by which Men, who have not been able to express how much they admire him, transcend the Bounds of Probability to say something extraordinary. The Mind, that becomes dazled with the Sight of his Performances, loses the common Idea of a Man in the fansy’d Splendor of Perfection: It sees nothing less than a God worthy to be his Father, nothing less than a Prophetess deserving to be his Nurse, and, growing unwilling that he should be spoken of in a Language beneath its Imaginations, delivers Fables in the place of History.
But whatever has thus been offer’d to support the Claim of Aegypt, they who plead for Greece are not to be accus’d for coming short of it. Their Fansie rose with a Refinement above what we are suppos’d to have of their Masters, and frequently the Veil of Fiction is wrought fine enough to be seen through, so that it hardly hides the Meaning it is made to cover, from the first Glance of the Imagination. For a Proof of this, we may mention that Poetical Genealogy which is deliver’d for Homer’s, in the Greek Treatise of the Contention between him and Hesiod, and but little vary’d by the Relation of it in Suidas.
"The Poet Linus (say they) was born of Apollo and Thoose, the Daughter of Neptune. Pierus of Linus: Oeagrus of King Pierus and the Nymph Methone: Orpheus of Oeagrus and the Muse Calliope. From Orpheus came Othrys: from him Harmonides: from him Philoterpus: from him Euphemus: from him Epiphrades, who begot Menalops, the Father of Dius: Dius had Hesiod the Poet and Perses by Pucamede, the Daughter of Apollo. Then Perses had Maeon, on whose Daughter Crytheis, the River Meles begot Homer. "
Here we behold a wonderful Genealogy contriv’d industriously to raise our Idea to the highest, where Gods, Goddesses, Muses, Kings, and Poets link in a descent; nay, where Poets are made to depend, as it were, in Clusters upon the same Stalk beneath one another. If we consider too that Harmonides is deriv’d from Harmony, Philoterpus from love of Delight, Euphemus from beautiful Diction, Epiphrades from Intelligence, and Pucamede from Prudence; it may not be improbable, but the Inventors meant, by a Fiction of this Nature, to turn such Qualifications into Persons as were agreeable to his Character, for whom the Line was drawn: So that every thing, Divine or Great, will thus come together by the extravagant Indulgence of Fancy, while it turns itself sometimes to Admiration, and sometimes to Allegory.
After this fabulous Tree of his Pedigree, we may regularly view him in one Passage concerning his Birth, which, though it differs in a Circumstance from what has been here deliver’d, yet carries on the same Air, and regards the same Traditions. There is a short Life of Homer attributed to Plutarch, wherein a third part of Aristotle on Poetry, which is now lost, is quoted for an account of his uncommon Birth, in this manner.
"At the time when Neleus, the Son of Codrus, led the Colony which was sent into Ionia, there was in the Island of Io a young Girl, compress’d by a Genius, who delighted to associate with the Muses, and share in their Consorts. She, finding
herself with Child, and being touch’d with the Shame of what had happen’d to her, remov’d from thence to a Place call’d Aegina. There she was taken in an Excursion made by Robbers, and being brought to Smyrna, which was then under the Lydians, they gave her to Maeon the King, who marry’d her upon account of her Beauty. But while she walk’d on the Bank of the River Meles, she brought forth Homer and expir’d. The Infant was taken by Maeon, and bred up as his Son, ’till the Death of that Prince."
And from this Point of the Story the Poet is let down into his traditional Poverty. Here we see, tho’ he be taken out of the Lineage of Meles where we met him before, he has still as wonderful a Rise invented for him; he is still to spring from a Demigod, one who was of a Poetical Disposition, from whom he might inherit a Soul turn’d to Poetry, and receive an Assistance of heavenly Inspiration.
In his Life the most general Tradition concerning him is his Blindness, yet there are some who will not allow even this to have happen’d after the manner in which it falls upon other Men: Chance and Sickness are excluded; nothing less than Gods and Heroes must be visibly concern’d about him. Thus we find among the different Accounts which Hermias has collected concerning his Blindness, that when Homer resolv’d to write of Achilles, he had an exceeding Desire to fill his Mind with a just Idea of so glorious a Heroe: Wherefore, having paid all due Honours at his Tomb, he intreats that he may obtain a sight of him. The Heroe grants his Poet’s Petition, and rises in a glorious Suit of Armour, which cast so unsufferable a Splendor, that Homer lost his Eyes, while he gaz’d for the Enlargement of his Notions.
If this be any thing more than a meer Fable, one would be apt to imagine it insinuated his contracting a Blindness by too intense an Application while he wrote his Iliad. But it is a very pompous way of letting us into the Knowledge of so short a Truth: It looks as if Men imagin’d the Lives of Poets should be Poetically written; that to speak plainly of them, were to speak contemptibly; or that we debase them, when they are plac’d in less glorious Company than those exalted Spirits which they themselves have been fond to celebrate. We may however in some measure be reconcil’d to this last idle Fable, for having occasion’d so beautiful an Episode in the Ambra of Politian. That which does not inform us in a History, may please us in its proper Sphere of Poetry.
II. Such Stories as these have been the Effects of a superstitious Fondness, and of our Astonishment at what we consider in a View of Perfection. But neither have all Men the same Taste, nor do they equally submit to the Superiority of others, nor bear that human Nature, which they know to be imperfect, should be prais’d in an Extream without opposition. From some Principles of this kind have arisen a second sort of Stories, which glance at Homer with malignant Suppositions, and endeavour to throw a diminishing Air over his Life, as a kind of Answer to those who sought to aggrandize him injudiciously.
Under this Head we may reckon those ungrounded Conjectures with which his Adversaries asperse the very Design and Prosecution of his Travels, when they insinuate, that they were one continued Search after Authors who had written before him, and particularly upon the same Subject, in order to destroy them, or to rob them of their Inventions.
Thus we read in Diodorus Siculus,
"That there was one Daphne, the Daughter of Tiresias, who from her Inspirations obtain’d the Title of a Sybil. She had a very extraordinary Genius, and being made Priestess at Delphos, wrote Oracles with wonderful Elegance, which Homer sought for, and adorn’d his Poems with several of her Verses."
But she is plac’d so far in the fabulous Age of the World, that nothing can be averr’d of her: And as for the Verses now ascrib’d to the Sybils, they are more modern than to be able to confirm the Story; which, as it is universally assented to, discovers that whatever there is in them in common with Homer, the Compilers have rather taken from him; perhaps to strengthen the Authority of their Work by the Protection of this Tradition.
The next Insinuation we hear is from Suidas, that Palamedes, who fought at Troy, was famous for Poetry, and wrote concerning that War in the Dorick Letter which he invented, probably much against Agamemnon and Ulysses, his mortal Enemies. Upon this Account some have fancy’d his Works were suppress’d by Agamemnon’s Posterity, or that their entire Destruction was contriv’d and effected by Homer when he undertook the same Subject. But surely the Works of so considerable a Man, when they had been able to bear up so long a time as that which pass’d between the Siege of Troy, and the flourishing of Homer, must have been too much dispers’d, for one of so mean a Condition as he is represented, to have destroy’d in every place, tho’ he had been never so much assisted by the vigilant Temper of Envy. And we may say too, that what might have been capable of raising this Principle in him, must be capable of being in some measure esteem’d, and of having at least one Line of it preserv’d to us.
After him, in the order of time, we meet with a whole Set of Names, to whom the Maligners of Homer would have him oblig’d, without being able to prove their Assertion. Suidas mentions Corinnus Iliensis, the Secretary of Palamedes, who writ a Poem upon the same Subject, but no one is produc’d as having seen it. Tzetzes mentions (and from Johannes Melala only) Sisyphus the Coan, Secretary of Teucer, but it is not so much as known if he writ Verse or Prose. Besides these, are Dictys the Cretan, Secretary to Idomeneus, and Dares the Phrygian an Attendant of Hector, who have spurious Treatises passing under their Names. From each of these is Homer said to have borrow’d his whole Argument; so inconsistent are these Stories with one another.
The next Names we find, are Demodocus, whom Homer might have met at Corcyra, and Phemius, whom he might have met at Ithaca: the one (as Plutarch says) having according to Tradition written the War at Troy, the other the Return of the Grecian Captains. But these are only two Names of Friends, which he is pleas’d to honour with Eternity in his Poem, or two different Pictures of himself, as Author of the Iliad and Odysses, or entirely the Children of his Imagination, without any particular Allusion. So that his Usage here, puts me in mind of his own Vulcan in the Iliad: The God had cast two Statues which he endued with the Power of Motion; and it is said presently after, that he is scarce able to go unless they support him.
It is reported by some, says Ptolomaeus Ephestio,
"That there was before Homer, a Woman of Memphis, call’d Phantasia, who writ of the Wars of Troy, and the Wandrings of Ulysses. Now Homer arriving at Memphis where she had laid up her Works, and getting acquainted with Phanitas, whose Business it was to copy the sacred Writings, he obtain’d a sight of these, and follow’d entirely the Scheme she had drawn."
But this is a wild Story, which speaks of an Aegyptian Woman with a Greek Name, and who never was heard of but upon this account. It appears indeed from his Knowledge of the Aegyptian Learning, that he was initiated into their Mysteries, and for ought we know by one Phanitas. But if we consider what the Name of the Woman signifies, it seems only as if from being us’d in a figurative Expression, it had been mistaken afterwards for a proper Name. And then the Meaning will be, that having gather’d as much Information concerning the Grecian and Trojan Story, as he could be furnish’d with from the Accounts of Aegypt, which were generally mix’d with Fancy and Fable, he wrought out his Plans of the Iliad and the Odysses. We pass all these Stories, together with the little Iliad of Siagrus, mention’d by Aelian. But one cannot leave this Subject without reflecting on the depreciating Humour, and odd Industry of Man, which shews itself in raising such a Number of Insinuations that clash with each other, and in spiriting up such a Crowd of unwarranted Names to support them. Nor can we but admire at the contradictory Nature of this Proceeding, that Names of Works, which either never were in Being, or never worthy to live, should be produc’d, only to persuade us that the most lasting and beautiful Poem of the Ancients was taken out of them. A Beggar might be content to patch up a Garment with such Shreds as the World throws away, but it is never to be imagin’d an Emperor would make his Robes of them.
After Homer had spent a considerable time in Travel, we find him towards his Age introduc’d to such an Action as tends to his Disparagement. It is not enough to accuse him for spoiling the dead, they raise a living Author by whom he must be baffled in that Qualification on which his Fame is founded.
There is in Hesiod an Account of an ancient Poetical Contention at the Funeral of Amphidamas, in which, he says, he obtain’d the Prize, but does not mention from whom he carry’d it. There is also among the Hymns ascribed to Homer, a Prayer to Venus, for Success in a Poetical Dispute, but it neither mentions where, nor against whom. But though they have neglected to name their Antagonists, others have since taken care to fill up the Stories by putting them together. The making two such considerable Names in Poetry engage, carries an amusing Pomp in it, like making two Heroes of the first Rank enter the Lists of Combat. And if Homer and Hesiod had their Parties among the Grammarians, here was an excellent Opportunity for Hesiod’s Favourers to make a Sacrifice of Homer. Hence might a bare Conjecture spread into a Tradition, then the Tradition give occasion to an Epigram, which is yet extant, and again the Epigram (for want of knowing the Time it was writ in) be alledg’d as a Proof of that Conjecture from whence it sprung. After this, a whole Treatise was written upon it, which appears not very ancient, because it mentions Adrian: The Story agrees in the main with the short Account we find in Plutarch,
"That Ganictor, the Son of Amphidamas, King of Euboea, being us’d to celebrate his Father’s funeral Games, invited from all Parts Men famous for Strength and Wisdom. Among these Homer and Hesiod arriv’d at Chalcis. The King Panidas presided over the Contest, which being finish’d, he decreed the Tripos to Hesiod, with this Elogy in the Sentence, That the Poet of Peace and Husbandry better deserv’d to be crown’d, than he who stirs us up to War and Contention.
Whereupon Hesiod dedicated the Prize to the Muses, with this Inscription, " [Greek]" [Greek]"
Which are two Lines taken from that Place in Hesiod where he mentions no Antagonist, and alter’d, that the two Names might be brought in, as is evident by comparing them with these,
[Greek]
To answer this Story, we take notice that Hesiod is generally plac’d after Homer. Graevius, his own Commentator, sets him a hundred Years lower; and whether he were so or no, yet Plutarch has slightly pass’d the whole Account as a Fable. Nay, we may draw an Argument against it from Hesiod himself: He had a Love of Fame which caus’d him to engage at the Funeral Games, and which went so far as to make him record his Conquest in his own Works; Had he defeated Homer, the same Principle would have made him mention a Name that could have secur’d his own to Immortality. A Poet who records his Glory, would not omit the noblest Circumstance, and Homer, like a Captive Prince, had certainly grac’d the Triumph of his Adversary.
Towards the latter end of his Life, there is another Story invented, which makes him conclude it in a manner altogether beneath the Greatness of a Genius. We find in the Life said to be written by Plutarch, a Tradition,
"That he was warn’d by an Oracle to beware of the young Mens Riddle. This remain’d long obscure to him, ’til he arriv’d at the Island Io. There as he sat to behold the Fishermen, they propos’d to him a Riddle in Verse, which he being unable to answer, dy’d for Grief."
This Story refutes itself by carrying Superstition at one end, and Folly at the other. It seems conceiv’d with an Air of Derision to lay a great Man in the Dust after a foolish Manner. The same sort of Hand might have fram’d that Tale of Aristotle’s drowning himself because he could not account for the Euripus: The Design is the same, the Turn the same; and all the difference, that the great Men are each to suffer in his Character, the one by a Poetical Riddle, the other by a Philosophical Problem. But these are Actions which can only proceed from the Meanness of Pride, or Extravagance of Madness: A Soul enlarg’d with Knowledge (so vastly as was that of Homer ) better knows the proper Stress which is to be laid upon every Incident, and the Proportion of Concern, or Carelesness, with which it ought to be affected. But it is the Fate of narrow Capacities to measure Mankind by a false Standard, and imagine the Great, like themselves, capable of being disconcerted by little Occasions; to frame their malignant Fables according to this Imagination, and to stand detected by it as by an evident Mark of Ignorance.
III. The third Manner in which the Life of Homer has been written, is but a heaping of all the Traditions and Hints which the Writers could meet with, great or little, in order to tell a Story of him to the World. Perhaps the want of choice Materials might put them upon the Necessity; or perhaps an injudicious Desire of saying all they could, occasion’d the fault. However it be, a Life compos’d of trivial Circumstances, which (tho’ it give a true account of several Passages) has but little of that Appearance in which a Man was most famous, and hardly any thing correspondent to the Idea we entertain of him: Such a Life, I say, will never answer rightly the demand the World has upon an Historian. Yet the most formal Account we have of Homer is of this Nature, I mean that which is said to be collected by Herodotus. It is, in short, an unsupported minute Treatise, compos’d of Events which lie within the Compass of Probability, and belong to the lowest Sphere of Life. It seems through all its Frame to be entirely conducted by the Spirit of a Grammarian, ever abounding with extempore Verses, as if it were to prove a thing so unquestionable as our Author’s Title to Rapture; and at the same time the Occasions are so poorly invented, that they misbecome the Warmth of a Poetical Imagination. There is nothing in it above the Life which a Grammarian might lead himself; nay, it is but such an one as they commonly do lead, the highest Stage of which is to be Master of a School. But because this is a Treatise to which Writers have had recourse for want of a better, I shall give the following Abstract.
Homer was born at Smyrna, about one hundred sixty eight Years after the Siege of Troy, and six hundred twenty two Years before the Expedition of Xerxes. His Mother’s Name was Crytheis, who proving unlawfully with Child, was sent away from Cumae by her Uncle, with Ismenias, one of those who led the Colony to Smyrna then building. A while after, as she was celebrating a Festival with other Women on the Banks of the River Meles, she was deliver’d of Homer, whom she therefore nam’d Melesigenes. Upon this she left Ismenias, and supported herself by Working, ’til Phemius (who taught a School in Smyrna ) fell in love with her, and marry’d her. But both dying in process of Time, the School fell to Homer, who manag’d it with such Wisdom, that he was universally admir’d both by Natives and Strangers. Amongst these latter was Mentes, a Master of a Ship from Leucadia, by whose Persuasions and Promises he gave up his School, and went to travel: With him he visited Spain and Italy, but was left behind at Ithaca upon account of a Defluxion in his Eyes. During his Stay he was entertain’d by one Mentor, a Man of Fortune, Justice, and Hospitality, and learn’d the principal Incidents of Ulysses’s Life. But at the Return of Mentes, he went from thence to Colophon, where, his Defluxion renewing, he fell entirely blind. Upon this he could think of no better Expedient than to go back to Smyrna, where perhaps he might be supported by those who knew him, and have the leisure to addict himself to Poetry. But there he found his Poverty encrease, and his hopes of Encouragement fail; so that he remov’d for Cumae, and by the way was entertain’d for some time at the House of one Tychius a Leather-Dresser. At Cumae his Poems were wonderfully admir’d, but when he propos’d to eternize their Town if they would allow him a Sallary, he was answer’d, That there would be no end of maintaining all the [Greek], or blind Men, and hence he got the Name of Homer. From Cumae he went to Phocaea, where one Thestorides (a School-master also) offer’d to maintain him if he would suffer him to transcribe his Verses: This Homer complying with for meer Necessity, the other had no sooner gotten them, but he remov’d to Chois; There the Poems gain’d him Wealth and Honour, while the Author himself hardly earn’d his Bread by repeating them. At last, some who came from Chios having told the People that the same Verses were publish’d there by a School-master, Homer resolv’d to find him out. Having therefore landed near that Place, he was receiv’d by one Glaucus a Shepherd (at whose Door he had like to have been worried by Dogs) and carry’d by him to his Master at Bollissus, who admiring his Knowledge, entrusted him with the Education of his Children. Here his Praise began to spread, and Thestorides, who heard of his Neighbourhood, fled before him. He remov’d however some time afterwards to Chois, where he set up a School of Poetry, gain’d a competent Fortune, marry’d a Wife, and had two Daughters, the one of which dy’d young, the other was marry’d to his Patron at Bollissus. Here he inserted in his Poems the Names of those to whom he had been most oblig’d, as, Mentes, Phemius, Mentor, and Tychius: and resolving for Athens, he made honourable mention of that City, to prepare the Athenians for a kind Reception. But as he went, the Ship put in at Samos, where he continu’d the whole Winter, singing at the Houses of great Men, with a Train of Boys after him. In Spring he went on board again in order to prosecute his Journey to Athens, but landing by the way at Ios, he fell sick, dy’d, and was bury’d on the Sea-Shore.
This is the Life of Homer ascrib’d to Herodotus, tho’ it is wonderful it should be so, since it evidently contradicts his own History, by placing Homer six hundred twenty two Years before the Expedition of Xerxes; whereas Herodotus himself, who was alive at the time of that Expedition, says Homer was only four hundred Years before him. However, if we can imagin that there may be any thing of Truth in the main Parts of this Treatise, we may gather these general Observations from it: That he shew’d a great Thirst of Knowledge, by undertaking such long and numerous Travels; That he manifested an unexampled Vigor of Mind, by being able to write with more Fire under the Disadvantages of Blindness, and the utmost Poverty, than any Poet after him in better Circumstances; And that he had an unlimited Sense of Fame (the Attendant of noble Spirits) which prompted him to engage in new Travels, both under these Disadvantages, and the additional Burthen of old Age.
But it will not perhaps be either improper or difficult to make some Conjectures, which seem to lay open the Foundation from whence the Traditions which frame the low Lives of Homer have arisen. In the first place we may consider, That there are no Historians of his Time (or none handed down to us) who have mention’d him; and that he has never spoken plainly of himself, in those Works which have been ascrib’d to him without Controversy. However, an eager Desire to know something concerning him has occasion’d Mankind to labour the Point under these Disadvantages, and turn on all Hands to see if there were any thing left which might have the least Appearance of Information. Upon the Search, they find no Remains but his Name and Works, and resolve to torture these upon the Rack of Invention, in order to give some account of the Person they belong to.
The first Thing therefore they settle is, That what pass’d for his Name, must be his Name no longer, but an additional Title us’d instead of it. The reason why it was given, must be some Accident of his Life. Having thus found an end of the Clue, they proceed to consider every thing that the word may imply by its Derivation. One finds that [Greek]signifies a Thigh; whence arises the Tradition in Heliodorus, that he was banish’d Aegypt for the Mark on that Part, which shew’d a spurious Birth; and this they imagine ground enough to give him the Life of a Wanderer. A second finds that [Greek]signifies an Hostage, and then he must be deliver’d as such in a War (according to Proclus ) between Smyrna and Chios. A third can derive the Name [Greek], non videns, from whence he must be a blind Man (as in the Piece ascrib’d to Herodotus. ) A fourth brings him from [Greek], speaking in Council; and then (as it is in Suidas ) he must, by a divine Inspiration, declare to the Smyrnaeans, that they should war against Colophon. A fifth finds the word may be brought to signify following others, or joining himself to them, and then he must be call’d Homer for saying (as it is quoted from Aristotle in the Life ascrib’d to Plutarch ) that he would [Greek], or follow the Lydians from Smyrna. Thus has the Name been turn’d and winded enough at least to give a Suspicion, that he who got a new Etymology, got a handle either for a new Life of him, or something which he added to the old one.
However, the Name itself not affording enough to furnish out a whole Life, his Works must be brought in for Assistance, and it is taken for granted, That where he has not spoken of himself, he lies veil’d beneath the Persons or Actions of those whom he describes. Because he calls a Poet by the Name of Phemius in his Odysses, they conclude this Phemius was his Master. Because he speaks of Demodocus as another Poet who was blind, and frequented Palaces, he must be sent about blind, to sing at the Doors of rich Men. If Ulysses be set upon by Dogs at his Shepherd’s Cottage, because this is a low Adventure, it is thought to be his own at Bollissus. And if he calls the Leather-dresser, who made Ajax’s Shield, by the Name of Tychius, he has been supported by such an one in his Wants: Nay, some have been so violently carry’d into this way of conjecturing, that the bare Simile of a Woman who works hard for her Livelihood, is said to have been borrow’d from his Mother’s Condition, and brought as a Proof of it. Thus he is still imagin’d to intend himself; and the Fictions of Poetry, converted into real Facts, are deliver’d for his Life, who has assign’d them to others. All those Stories in his Works which suit with a mean Condition are suppos’d to have happen’d to him, tho’ the same way of Inference might as well prove him to have acted in a higher Sphere, from the many Passages that shew his Skill in Government, and his Knowledge of the great Parts of Life.
There are some other scatter’d Stories of Homer which fall not under these Heads, but are however of as trifling a Nature; as much unfit for the Materials of History, still more ungrounded, if possible, and arising merely from Chance, or the Humours of Men: Such is the Report we meet with from Heraclides, That
" Homer was fin’d at Athens for a Madman;"
which seems invented by the Disciples of Socrates to cast an Odium upon the Athenians for their consenting to the Death of their Master, and carries in it something like a declaiming Revenge of the Schools, as if the World should imagine the one could be esteem’d mad, where the other was put to Death for being wicked. Such another Report is that in e 1.31 Aelian, That
" Homer portion’d his Daughter with some of his Works for want of Money;"
which looks but like a Whim deliver’d in the Gaiety of Fancy; a Jest upon a poor Wit, which at first might have had an Epigrammatist for its Father, and been afterwards gravely understood by some painful Collector. In short, Mankind have labour’d heartily about him to no purpose; they have caught up every thing greedily, with that busy minute Curiosity and unsatisfactory Inquisitiveness which Seneca calls the Disease of the Greeks; they have puzzled the Cause by their Attempts to find it out; and, like Travellers entirely destitute of a Road, yet resolv’d to make it over unpassable Deserts, they superinduce Error, instead of removing Ignorance.
IV. Whenever Men have set themselves to write a Life of Homer, clear from Superstition, Envy, and Trifling, they have grown asham’d of all these Traditions. This, however, has not occasion’d every one to desist from the Undertaking; but still the Difficulty which could not make them desist, has necessitated them, either to deliver the old Story with Excuses; or else, instead of a Life, to compose a Treatise partly of Criticism, and partly of Character; rather descriptive, than supported by Action, and the Air of History.
They begin with letting us know, that the Time in which he liv’d has never been fix’d beyond dispute, and that the Opinions of Authors are various concerning it: But the Controversy, in its several Conjectures, includes a Space of Years between the earliest and latest, from twenty four to about five hundred after the Siege of Troy. Whenever the Time was, it seems not to have been near that Siege, from his own Invocation of the Muses to recount the Catalogue of the Ships:
"For
we, says he, have only heard a Rumour, and know nothing particularly."
It is remark’d by g 1.35 Velleius Paterculus, That it must have been considerably later, from his own Confession, that Mankind was but half as strong in his Age, as in that he writ of; which, as it is founded upon a Notion of a gradual Degeneracy in our Nature, discovers the Interval to have been long between Homer and his Subject. But not to trouble our selves with entring into all the dry Dispute, we may here take notice, that the World is inclin’d to stand by the h 1.36 Arundelian Marble, as the most certain Computation of those early Times; and this, by placing him at the time when Diognetus rul’d in Athens, makes him flourish a little before the Olympiads were establish’d; about three hundred Years after the taking of Troy, and near a thousand before the Christian Aera. For a farther Confirmation of this, we have some great Names of Antiquity, who give him a Cotemporary agreeing with the Computation. i 1.37 Cicero says, There was a Tradition that Homer liv’d about the time of Lycurgus. k 1.38 Strabo tells us, It was reported that Lycurgus went to Chios for an Interview with him. And even l 1.39 Plutarch, when he says, Lycurgus receiv’d Homer’s Works from the Grandson of that Creophilus with whom he had liv’d, does not put him so far backward, but that possibly they might have been alive together.
The next Dispute regards his Country, concerning which, Adrian enquir’d of the Gods, as a Question not to be settled by Men; and Appion (according to Pliny ) rais’d a Spirit for his Information. That which has encreas’d the difficulty, is the Number of contesting Places, of which Suidas has reckon’d up nineteen in one Breath. But his ancient Commentator, Didymus, found the Subject so fertile, as to employ a great Part of his four thousand Volumes upon it. There is a Prophecy of the Sybils that he should be born at Salamis in Cyprus; and then to play an Argument of the same Nature against it, there is the Oracle given to Adrian afterwards, that says he was born in Ithaca. There are Customs of Aeolia and Aegypt cited from his Works, to make out by turns, and with the same Probability, that he belong’d to each of them. There was a School shew’d for his at Colophon, and a Tomb at Io, both of equal Strength to prove he had his Birth in either. As for the Athenians, they challeng’d him as born where they had a Colony; or else in behalf of Greece in general, and as the Metropolis of its Learning, they made his Name free of their City, ( qu. Liciniâ & Mutiâ lege, says Politian ) after the manner of that Law by which all Italy became free of Rome. All these have their Authors to record their Titles, but still the Weight of the Question seems to lie between Smyrna and Chios, which we must therefore take a little more notice of. That Homer then was born at Smyrna is endeavour’d to be prov’d by an Epigram, recorded to have been under the Statue of Pisistratus at Athens; by the Reports mention’d in Cicero, Strabo, and A. Gellius; and by the Greek Lives, which are prefix’d to him with the Names of Herodotus, Plutarch, and Proclus; as also the two that are anonymous. For this the Smyrnaeans built him a Temple, cast Medals of him, and grew so possest of his having been theirs, that it is said they burn’d Zoilus for affronting them in the Person of Homer. On the other hand, the Chians plead the ancient Authorities of Simonides and Theocritus for his being born among them. They mention a Race they had, call’d the Homeridae, whom they reckon’d his Posterity; they cast Medals of him; they shew to this Day an Homaerium, or Temple of Homer, near Bollissus; and close their Arguments with a Quotation from the Hymn to Apollo (which is acknowledg’d for Homer’s by Thucydides ) where he calls himself,
"The blind Man that inhabits Chios. "
The Reader has here the Sum of the large Treatise of Leo Allatius, written particularly on this Subject , in which, after having separately weigh’d the Pretensions of all, he concludes for Chios. For my part, I determine nothing in a Point of so much Uncertainty; neither which of these was honour’d with his Birth, nor whether any of them was, nor, again, whether each may not have produc’d his own Homer; since Xenophon says, there were many of the Name. But one cannot avoid being surpriz’d at the prodigious Veneration of his Character, which could engage Mankind with such Eagerness in a Point so little essential; that Kings should send to Oracles for the Enquiry of his Birth-place; that Cities should be in Strife about it, and whole Lives of learned Men employ’d upon it; that some should write Treatises concerning it; that others should call up Spirits unavailingly; that thus, in short, Heaven, Earth and Hell should be sought to, for the Decision of a Question which terminates in Curiosity only.
If we endeavour to find the Parents of Homer, we immediately perceive the Search is fruitless. Ephorus has made Maeon to be his Father, by a Niece whom he deflour’d; and this has so far obtain’d, as to give him the derivative Name of Maeonides. His Mother (if we allow the Story of Maeon ) is call’d Crytheis: But we are lost again in Uncertainty if we search farther; for Suidas has mention’d Eumetis or Polycaste; and Pausanias, Clymene or Themisto; which happens, because the contesting Countrys find out Mothers of their own for him. Tradition has in this case afforded us no more Light, than what may serve to shew its Shadows in a Confusion; they strike the Sight with so equal a Probability, that we are in doubt which to chuse, and must pass the Question undecided.
If we enquire concerning his own Name, even that is doubted of. He has been call’d Melesigenes from the River where he was born. Homer has been reckon’d an ascititious Name, from some Accident in his Life: The Certamen Homericum calls him once Auletes, perhaps from his musical Genius; and Lucian, Tigranes; it may be from a Confusion with that Tigranes or Tigretes, who was Brother of Queen Artemisia, and whose Name has been so far mingled with his, as to make him be esteem’d Author of some of the lesser Works which are ascrib’d to Homer. It may not be amiss to close these Criticisms with that agreeable Derision wherewith Lucian treats the over-busy Humour of Grammarians in their Search after minute and impossible Enquiries, when he feigns, that he had talk’d over the Point with Homer in the Island of the Blessed.
"I ask’d him, says he, of what Country he was? a Question hard to be resolv’d with Us: to which he answer’d, He could not certainly tell, because some had inform’d him, that he was of Chios, some of Smyrna, and others of Colophon; but he took himself for a Babylonian; called Tigranes, while he liv’d among his Country-men, and Homer, while he was an Hostage among the Graecians. "
At his Birth he appears not to have been blind, whatever he might be afterwards. The Chian Medal of him (which is of great Antiquity, according to Leo Allatius ) seats him with a Volume open, and reading intently: But there is no need of Proofs from Antiquity for that which every Line of his Works will demonstrate. With what an Exactness, agreeable to the natural Appearance of Things, do his Cities stand, his Mountains rise, his Rivers wind, and his Regions lie extended? How beautifully are the Surfaces of all things drawn in their Figures, and adorn’d with their Paintings? What Address in Action, what visible Characters of the Passions inspirit his Heroes? It is not to be imagin’d, that a Man could have been always blind, who thus inimitably copies Nature, who gives every where the proper Proportion, Figure, Colour, and Life:
" Quem si quis caecum genitum putat (says Paterculus ) omnibus sensibus orbus est: "
He must certainly have beheld the Creation, consider’d it with a long Attention, and enrich’d his Fancy by the most sensible Knowledge of those Ideas which he makes the Reader see while he but describes them.
As he grew forward in Years, he was train’d up to Learning (if we credit Diodorus ) under one
" Pronapides, a Man of excellent natural Endowments, who taught the Pelasgick Letter invented by Linus. "
From him might he learn to preserve his Poetry by committing it to Writing; which we mention, because it is generally believ’d no Poems before his were so preserv’d; and he himself in the third Line of his Batrochomuomachia (if that Piece be allow’d to be his) expressly speaks of writing his Works in his Tablets. When he was of riper Years, for his farther Accomplishment, and the Gratification of his Thirst of Knowledge, he spent a considerable part of his time in travelling. Upon which account, Proclus has taken notice that he must have abounded in Riches:
"For long Travels, says he, occasion high Expences, and especially at those times when Men could neither sail without imminent Danger and Inconveniences, nor had a regulated manner of Commerce with one another."
This way of reasoning appears very probable; and if it does not prove him to have been rich, it shews him, at least, to have had Patrons of a generous Spirit, who, observing the Vastness of his Capacity, believ’d themselves beneficent to Mankind, while they supported one who seem’d born for something extraordinary.
Aegypt being at that time the Seat of Learning, the greatest Wits and Genius’s of Greece us’d to travel thither. Among these Diodorus reckons Homer, and to strengthen his Opinion, alledges that Multitude of their Notions which he has receiv’d into his Poetry, and of their Customs, to which he alludes in his Fictions: Such as his Gods, which are nam’d from the first Aegyptian Kings; the Number of the Muses taken from the nine Minstrels which attended Osyris; the Feast wherein they us’d to send their Statues of the Deities into Aethiopia, and to return after twelve Days; and the carrying their dead Bodies over the Lake to a pleasant Place call’d Acherusia near Memphis, from whence arose the Stories of Charon, Styx, and Elysium. These are Notions which so abound in him, as to make Herodotus say, He had introduc’d from thence the Religion of Greece. And if others have believ’d he was an Aegyptian, from his Knowledge of their Rites and Traditions which were reveal’d but to few; and of the Arts and Customs which were practis’d among them in general; it may prove at least thus much, that he was there in his Travels.
As Greece was in all Probability his native Country, and had then began to make an Effort for Learning, we cannot doubt but he travel’d there also, with a particular Observation. He uses the different Dialects which were spoken in its different Parts, as one who had been conversant with them all. But the Argument which appears most irrefragable, is to be taken from his Catalogue of the Ships: He has there given us an exact Geography of Greece; where its Cities, Mountains, and Plains, are particularly mention’d; where the Courses of its Rivers are trac’d out; where the Countrys are laid in order, their Bounds assign’d, and the uses of their Soils specify’d; which the Ancients, who compar’d it with the Original, have allow’d to be so true in all Points, that it could never have been owing to a loose and casual Information. Even Strabo’s Account of Greece is but a kind of Commentary upon Homer’s.
We may carry this Argument farther, to suppose his having been round Asia Minor, from his exact Division of the Regnum Priami vetus (as Horace calls it) into its separate Dynasties, and the Account he gives of the bordering Nations in Alliance with it. Perhaps too, in the Wandrings of Ulysses about Sicily, whose Ports and neighbouring Islands are mention’d, he might contrive to send his Heroe where he had made his own Voyage before. Nor will the Fables he has intermingled be any Objection to his having travel’d in those Parts, since they are not related as the History of the present time, but the Tradition of the former. His mention of Thrace, his Description of the Beasts of Lybia, and of the Climate in the Fortunate Islands, may seem also to give us a view of him in the Extreams of the Earth, where it was not barbarous or uninhabited. It is hard to set limits to the Travels of a Man, who has set none to that desire of Knowledge which made him undertake them. Who can say what People he has not seen, who appears to be vers’d in the Customs of all? He takes the Globe for the Scene in which he introduces his Subjects; he launches forward intrepidly, like one to whom no place is new, and appears a Citizen of the World in general.
When he return’d from his Travels, he seems to have apply’d himself to the finishing his Poems, however he might have either design’d, begun, or pursu’d them before. In these he has treasur’d up his various Acquisitions of Knowledge, where they have been preserv’d through Ages, to be as well the Proofs of his own Industry, as the Instructions of Posterity. He might then describe his Sacrifices after the Aeolian manner; or his Leagues with a Mixture of Trojan and Spartan Ceremonies: He could then compare the Confusion of a Multitude to that Tumult he had observ’d in the Icarian Sea, dashing and breaking among its Crowd of Islands: He could represent the Numbers of an Army, by those Flocks of Swans he had seen on the Banks of the Cayster; or being to describe that Heat of Battel with which Achilles drove the Trojans into the River, he could illustrate it with an Allusion from Cyrene or Cyprus, where, when the Inhabitants burn’d their Fields, the Grass-hoppers fled before the Fire to perish in the Ocean. His Fancy being fully replenish’d, might supply him with every proper occasional Image, and his Soul after having enlarg’d itself, and taken in an extensive Variety of the Creation, might be equal to the Task of an Iliad and an Odysses. In his Age, we hear he fell blind, and settled at Chios, as he says in the Hymn to Apollo, which (as is before observ’d) is acknowledg’d for his by Thucydides, and might occasion both Simonides and Theocritus to call him a Chian. Strabo relates, That Lycurgus, the great Legislator of Sparta, was reported to have gone to Chios to have a Conference with Homer, after he had study’d the Laws of Crete and Aegypt in order to form his Constitutions. If this be true, how much a nobler Representation does it give of him, and indeed more agreeable to what we conceive of this mighty Genius, than those spurious Accounts which keep him down among the meanest of Mankind? What an Idea could we frame to our selves of a Conversation, held between two Persons so considerable; a Philosopher conscious of the Force of Poetry, and a Poet knowing in the Depths of Philosophy; both their Souls improv’d with Learning, both eminently rais’d above little Designs, or the meaner kind of Interest, and meeting together to consult the Good of Mankind? But in this, I have only indulg’d a Thought which is not to be insisted upon; the Evidence of History rather tends to prove that Lycurgus brought his Works from Asia after his Death: which Proclus imagines to have happen’d at a great old Age, on account of his Circumference of Learning, for which a short Life could never suffice.
If we would now make a Conjecture concerning the Genius and Temper of this great Man; perhaps his Works, which would not furnish us with Facts for his Life, will be more reasonably made use of to give us a Picture of his Mind: To this end therefore, we may suffer the very Name and Notion of a Book to vanish for a while, and look upon what is left us as a Conversation, in order to gain an Acquaintance with Homer. Perhaps the general Air of his Works will become the general Character of his Genius, and the particular Observations give some Light to the particular Turns of his Temper. His comprehensive Knowledge shews that his Soul was not form’d like a narrow Chanel for a single Stream, but as an Expanse which might receive an Ocean into its Bosom; that he had the strongest Desire of Improvement, and an unbounded Curiosity, which made its Advantage of every transient Circumstance, or obvious Accident. His solid and sententious Manner may make us admire him for a Man of Judgment; one who, in the darkest Ages, could enter far into a Disquisition of human Nature; who, notwithstanding all the Changes which Governments, Manners, Rites, and even the Notions of Virtue have undergone, could still abound with so many Maxims correspondent to Truth, and Notions applicable to so many Sciences. The Fire, which is so observable in his Poem, as to give every thing the most active Appearance, may make us naturally conjecture him to have been of a warm Temper, and lively Behaviour; and the pleasurable Air which every where overspreads it, may give us reason to think, that Fire of Imagination was temper’d with Sweetness and Affability. If we farther observe the Particulars he treats of, and imagine that he laid a Stress upon the Sentiments he delivers, pursuant to his real Opinions; we shall take him to be of a religious Spirit, by his inculcating in almost every Page the worship of the Gods. We shall imagine him to be a generous Lover of his Countrey, from his care to extol it every where: which is carry’d to such a heighth, as to make Plutarch observe, That though many of the Barbarians are made Prisoners or Suppliants, yet neither of these disgraceful Accidents (which are common to all Nations in War) ever happens to one Greek throughout his Works. We shall take him to be a compassionate Lover of Mankind, from his numberless Praises of Hospitality and Charity; (if indeed we are not to account for ’em, as the common Writers of his Life imagine, from his owing his Support to these Virtues.) It might seem from his Love of Stories, with his manner of telling them sometimes, that he gave his own Picture when he painted his Nestor, and, as wise as he was, was no Enemy to Talking. One would think from his Praises of Wine, his copious Goblets, and pleasing Descriptions of Banquets, that he was addicted to a chearful, sociable Life, which Horace takes notice of as a kind of Tradition;
"Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus. " Ep. 19. l. 1.
And that he was not (as may be guess’d of Virgil from his Works) averse to the Female Sex, will appear from his care to paint them amiably upon all occasions: His Andromache and Penelope are in each of his Poems most shining Characters of conjugal Affection; even his Helena herself is drawn with all the Softnings imaginable; his Souldiers are exhorted to combat with the hopes of Women; his Commanders are furnish’d with fair Slaves in their Tents, nor is the venerable Nestor without a Mistress. It is true, that in this way of turning a Book into a Man, this reasoning from his Works to himself, we can at best but hit off a few Out-strokes of a Character: Wherefore I shall decline the carrying it into more minute Points, and conclude with one Discovery which we may make from his Silence, a Discovery extreamly proper to be made in this manner, which is, that he was of a very modest Temper. There is in all other Poets a Custom of speaking of themselves, and a Vanity of promising Eternity to their Writings: In both which Homer, who has the best Title to speak out, is altogether silent. As to the last of them, the World has made him ample Recompence; it has given him that Eternity he would not promise himself: But whatever Endeavours have been offer’d in respect of the former, we find our selves still under an irreparable Loss. That which others have said of him has amounted to no more than Conjecture; that which I have said is no farther to be insisted on: I have us’d the liberty which is indulg’d me by Precedent, to give in my Opinions among the Accounts of others, and the World may be pleas’d to receive them as so many willing Endeavours to gratify its Curiosity.
The only uncontestable Works which Homer has left behind him are the Iliad and Odysses: The Batrachomuomachia or Battle of the Frogs and Mice, has been disputed, but is however allow’d for his by many great Authorities; amongst whom Statius has reckon’d it like the Culex of Virgil, a Trial of his Force before his larger Performances. It is indeed a beautiful Piece of Raillery, in which a great Writer may delight to unbend himself; an Instance of that agreeable Trifling, which has been at some time or other indulg’d by the finest Genius’s, and the Offspring of that amusing and chearful Humour, which generally accompanies the Character of a rich Imagination, like a Vein of Mercury running mingled with a Mine of Gold. The Hymns have been doubted also, and attributed by the Scholiasts to Cynaethus the Rhapsodist; but notwithstanding the Tradition, neither Thucydides, Lucian, nor Pausanias, have scrupled to cite them as genuine. We have the Authority of the two former for that to Apollo, tho’ it be observ’d that the word [Greek]is found in it, which the Book de Poesi Homericâ (ascrib’d to Plutarch ) tells us, was not in use in Homer’s Time. We have also an Authority of the last for a Hymn to Ceres, of which he has given us a Fragment. That to Mars is objected against for mentioning [Greek], and that which is the first to Minerva for using [Greek], both of them being (according to the Author of the Treatise before mention’d) words of a later Invention. The Hymn to Venus has many of its Lines copy’d by Virgil in the Enterview between Aeneas, and that Goddess in the first Aeneid: But whether these Hymns are Homer’s or not, they are always judg’d to be near as ancient, if not of the same Age with him.
The Epigrams are extracted out of the Life said to be written by Herodotus, and we leave them as such to stand or fall with it; except the Epitaph on Midas, which is of very ancient Authority, quoted without its Author both by Plato and Longinus, and (according to Laertius ) ascrib’d by Simonides to Cleobulus the wise Man; who living long after Homer answers better to the Age of Midas the Son of Gordias. The Margites, which is lost, is said by Aristotle to have been a Poem of a comick Nature, wherein Homer made use of Iambick Verses as proper for Raillery. It was a Jest upon the Fair Sex, and had its Name from one Margites, a weak Man who was the Subject of it. The Story is something loose, as may be seen by the Account of it still preserv’d in Eustathius’s Comment on the Odysses. The Cercopes was a Satyrical Work which is also lost; we may however imagine it was level’d against the Vices of Men, if our Conjecture be right that it was founded upon the old Fable of the Cercopes, a Nation who were turn’d into Monkies for their Frauds and Impostures.
The Destruction of Oechalia, was a Poem of which (according to Eustathius ) Hercules was the Heroe; and the Subject, his ravaging that Countrey; because Eurytus the King had deny’d him his Daughter Iole. The Ilias Minor was a Piece which included both the taking of Troy, and the return of the Graecians; In this was the Story of Sinon, which Virgil has made use of: Aristotle has judg’d it not to belong to Homer. The Cypriacks, if it was upon them that Nevius founded his Ilias Cypria, (as Mr. Dacier conjectures) were the Love-Adventures of the Ladies at the Siege: these are rejected by Herodotus, for saying that Paris brought Helen to Troy in three Days; whereas Homer asserts they were long driven from Place to Place.
There are also other Things ascrib’d to him, such as the Heptapection Goat, the Arachnomachia, &c. in the ludicrous Manner; and the Thebais, Epigoni, or second Siege of Thebes, the Phocais, Amazonia, &c. in the serious: which, if they were his, are now to be reputed a real Loss to the learned World. Time, in some Things, may have prevail’d over Homer himself, and left only the Names of these Works as Memorials that such were in being; but while the Iliad and Odysses remain, he seems like a Leader, who, tho’ he may have fail’d in a Skirmish, has carry’d a Victory, for which he passes in Triumph through all future Ages.
THE Remains we have at present of those Monuments Antiquity had fram’d for him, are but few. It could not be thought that they who knew so little of the Life of Homer, could have a right Knowledge of his Person; yet had they Statues of him as of their Gods, whose Forms they had never seen.
" Quinimò quae non sunt, finguntur (says Pliny ) pariuntque desideria non traditi vultûs, sicut in Homero evenit. "
But tho’ the ancient Portraits of him seem purely notional, yet they agree (as I think h 1.95 Fabretti has observ’d) in representing him with a short curl’d Beard, and distinct Marks of Age in his Forehead. That which is prefix’d to this Book, is taken from an ancient Marble Bust, in the Palace of Farnese at Rome. In Bollissus near Chios there is a Ruin, which was shown for the House of Homer, which Leo Allatius went on Pilgrimage to visit, and (as he tells us) found nothing but a few Stones crumbling away with Age, over which he and his Companions wept for Satisfaction.
They erected Temples to Homer in Smyrna, as appears from Cicero; one of these is suppos’d to be yet extant, and the same which they show for the Temple of Janus. It agrees with Strabo’s Description, a square Building of Stone, near a River, thought to be the Meles, with two Doors opposite to each other, North and South, and a large Niche within the East-Wall, where the Image stood: But M. Spon denies this to be the true Homaerium. Of the Medals struck for him, there are some both of Chios and Smyrna still in being, and exhibited at the beginning of this Essay. The most valuable with respect to the Largeness of the Head is that of Amastris, which is carefully copied from an Original belonging to the present Earl of Pembroke, and is the same which Gronovius Cuperus and Dacier have Copies of, but very incorrectly performed.
But that which of all the Remains has been of late the chief Amusement of the Learned, is the Marble call’d his Apotheosis, the Work of Archelaus of Priene, and now in the Palace of Colonna. We see there a Temple hung with its Veil, where Homer is plac’d on a Seat with a Footstool to it, as he has describ’d the Seats of his Gods; supported on each side with Figures known for the Iliad and the Odysses, the one by the Sword, the other by the Ornament of a Ship, which denotes the Voyages of Ulysses. On each side of his Footstool are Mice, in Allusion to the Batrachomuomachia. Behind, is Time waiting upon him, and a Figure with Turrets on its Head, which signifies the World, crowning him with the Laurel. Before him is an Altar, at which all the Arts are sacrificing to him as to their Deity. On one side of the Altar stands a Boy, representing Mythology, on the other, a Woman, representing History; after her is Poetry bringing the Sacred Fire; and in a long following Train, Tragedy, Comedy, Nature, Virtue, Memory, Rhetorick, and Wisdom, in all their proper Attitudes.
HAVING now finish’d what was propos’d concerning the History of Homer’s Life, I shall proceed to that of his Works; and considering him no longer as a Man, but as an Author, prosecute the Thread of his Story in this his second Life, thro’ the different Degrees of Esteem which those Writings have obtain’d in different Periods of Time.
It has been the fortune of several great Genius’s not to be known while they liv’d, either for want of Historians, the Meanness of Fortune, or the Love of Retirement, to which a Poetical Temper is peculiarly addicted. Yet after Death their Works give themselves a Life in Fame, without the help of an Historian; and, notwithstanding the Meanness of their Author, or his Love of Retreat, they go forth among Mankind, the Glories of that Age which produc’d them, and the Delight of those which follow it. This is a Fate particularly verify’d in Homer, than whom no considerable Author is less known as to himself, or more highly valu’d as to his Productions.
The earliest Account of these is said by Plutarch to be some time after his Death, when Lycurgus sail’d to Asia:
"There he had the first sight of Homer’s Works, which were probably preserv’d by the Grand-children of Creophilus; and having observ’d that their pleasurable Air of Fiction did not hinder the Poets abounding in Maxims of State, and Rules of Morality, he transcrib’d and carry’d with him that entire Collection we have now among us: For at that time (continues this Author) there was only an obscure Rumour in Greece to the Reputation of these Poems, and but a few scatter’d Fragments handed about, ’till Lycurgus publish’d them entire."
Thus they were in danger of being lost as soon as they were produced, by the Misfortune of the Age, a want of Taste in Learning, or the manner in which they were left to Posterity, when they fell into the Hands of Lycurgus. He was a Man of great Learning, a Law-giver to a People divided and untractable, and one who had a Notion that Poetry influenc’d and civiliz’d the Minds of Men; which made him smooth the way to his Constitution by the Songs of Thales the Cretan, whom he engag’d to write upon Obedience and Concord. As he propos’d to himself that the Constitution he would raise upon this their Union should be of a martial Nature, these Poems were of an extraordinary Value to him: for they came with a full Force into his Scheme; the Moral they inspir’d was Unity; the Air they breath’d was Martial; and their Story had this particular Engagement for the Lacedaemonians, that it shew’d Greece in War, and Asia subdu’d under the Conduct of one of their own Monarchs, who commanded all the Graecian Princes. Thus the Poet both pleas’d the Law-giver, and the People: from whence he had a double Influence when the Laws were settled. For his Poem then became a Panegyrick on their Constitution, as well as a Register of their Glory; and confirm’d them in the Love of it by a gallant Description of those Qualities and Actions for which it was adapted. This made Cleomenes call him The Poet of the Lacedaemonians: And therefore when we remember that Homer owed the Publication of his Works to Lycurgus, we should grant too, that Lycurgus owed in some degree the Enforcement of his Laws to the Works of Homer. At their first Appearance in Greece, they were not digested into a regular Body, but remain’d as they were brought over in several detach’d Pieces, call’d (according to Aelian ) from the Subject on which they treated; as the Battle at the Ships, the Death of Dolon, the Valour of Agamemnon, the Patroclea, the Grot of Calypso, Slaughter of the Wooers, and the like. Nor were these entitled Books, but Rhapsodies; from whence they who sung them had the Title of Rhapsodists. It was in this manner they began to be disperst, while their Poetry, their History, the Glory they ascrib’d to Greece in general, the particular Description they gave of it, and the Compliment they paid to every little State by an honourable mention, so influenc’d all, that they were transcrib’d and sung with general Approbation. But what seems to have most recommended them was, that Greece which could not be great in its divided Condition, looked upon the Fable of them as a likely Plan of future Grandeur. They seem from thenceforward to have had an Eye upon the Conquest of Asia; as a proper Undertaking which by its Importance might occasion Union enough to give a Diversion from Civil Wars, and by its Prosecution bring in an Acquisition of Honour and Empire. This is the meaning of Isocrates, when he tells us, That
" Homer’s Poetry was in the greater Esteem, because it gave exceeding Praise to those who fought against the Barbarians. Our Ancestors (continues he) honour’d it with a Place in Education and musical Contests, that by often hearing it we should have a Notion of an original Enmity between us and those Nations; and that admiring the Virtue of those who fought at Troy, we should be induc’d to emulate their Glory."
And indeed they never quitted this thought, ’till they had successfully carry’d their Arms where-ever Homer might thus excite them.
But while his Works were suffer’d to lie in an unconnected manner, the Chain of Story was not always perceiv’d, so that they lost much of their Force and Beauty by being read disorderly. Wherefore as Lacedaemon had the first Honour of their Publication by Lycurgus, that of their Regulation fell to the share of Athens in the time of Solon, who himself made a Law for their recital. It was then that Pisistratus, the Tyrant of Athens, who was a Man of great Learning and Eloquence (as Cicero has it) first put together the confus’d Parts of Homer, according to that Regularity in which they are now handed down to us. He divided them into the two different Works, entitled the Iliad and Odysses; he digested each according to the Author’s design, to make their Plans become evident; and distinguish’d each again into twenty four Books, to which were afterwards prefix’d the twenty four Letters. There is a Passage indeed in Plato, which takes this Work from Pisistratus, by giving it to his Son Hypparchus; with this addition, that he commanded them to be sung at the Feast call’d Panathenaea. Perhaps it may be, as Leo Allatius has imagin’d, because the Son publish’d the Copy more correctly: This he offers, to reconcile so great a Testimony as Plato’s to the Cloud of Witnesses which are against him in it: But be that as it will, Athens still claims its proper Honour of rescuing the Father of Learning from the Injuries of Time, of having restor’d Homer to himself, and given the World a view of him in his Perfection. So that if his Verses were before admir’d for their Use and Beauty, as the Stars were before they were consider’d in a System of Science; they are now admir’d much more for their graceful Harmony, and that Sphere of Order in which they appear to move. They became henceforward more the Pleasure of the Wits of Greece; more the Subject of their Studies, and the Employment of their Pens.
About the time that this new Edition of Homer was publish’d in Athens, there was one Cynaethus, a learned Rhapsodist, who (as the Scholiast of Pindar informs us) settled first at Syracuse in that Employment; and if (as Leo Allatius believes) he had been before an Assistant in the Edition, he may be suppos’d to have first carry’d it abroad. But it was not long preserv’d correct among his Followers; they committed Mistakes in their Transcriptions and Repetitions, and had even the Presumption to alter some Lines, and interpolate others. Thus the Works of Homer ran the danger of being utterly defac’d; which made it become the concern of Kings and Philosophers, that they should be restor’d to their Primitive Beauty.
In the Front of these is Alexander the Great, for whom they will appear peculiarly calculated, if we consider that no Books more enliven or flatter personal Valour, which was great in him to what we call Romantick: Neither has any Book more places applicable to his Designs on Asia, or (as it happen’d) to his Actions there. It was then no ill Compliment in Aristotle to purge the Iliad, upon his account, from those Errors and Additions which had crept into it. And so far was Alexander himself from esteeming it a Matter of small Importance, that he afterwards assisted in a strict Review of it with Anaxarchus and Calisthenes; whether it was meerly because he esteem’d it a Treasury of military Virtue and Knowledge; or that (according to a late ingenious Conjecture) he had a farther Aim, in promoting the Propagation of it when he was ambitious to be esteem’d a Son of Jupiter; as a Book which treating of the Sons of the Gods, might make the Intercourse between them and Mortals become a familiar Notion. The Review being finish’d, he laid it up in a Casket which was found among the Spoils of Darius as what best deserv’d so inestimable a Case, and from this Circumstance it was nam’d The Edition of the Casket. The Place where the Works of Homer were next found in the greatest Regard, is Aegypt, under the Reign of the Ptolomys. These Kings being descended from Greece retain’d always a Passion for their original Country. The Men, the Books, the Qualifications of it, were in esteem in their Court; they preserv’d the Language in their Family; they encourag’d a Concourse of learned Men; erected the greatest Library in the World; and train’d up their Princes under Graecian Tutors; among whom the most considerable were appointed for Revisers of Homer. The first of these was Zenodotus, Library-Keeper to the first Ptolomy, and qualify’d for this Undertaking by being both a Poet, and a Grammarian; a compounded Character in which there was Fancy for a Discovery of Beauties, and a minuter Judgment for a Detection of Faults. But neither his Copy nor that which his Disciple Aristophanes had made, satisfying Aristarchus, (whom Ptolomy Philometor had appointed over his Son Euergetes ) he set himself to another Correction with all the Wit and Learning he was Master of. He restor’d some Verses to their former Readings, rejected others which he mark’d with Obelisks as spurious, and proceeded with such industrious Accuracy, that, notwithstanding there were some who wrote against his Performance, Antiquity has generally acquiesc’d in it. Nay, so far have they carry’d their Opinion in his favour, as to call a Man an Aristarchus when they meant to say a candid, judicious Critick; in the same manner as they call the contrary a Zoilus, from that Zoilus who about this time wrote an envious Criticism against Homer. And now we mention these two together, I fancy it will be no small Pleasure to the benevolent Part of Mankind, to see how their Characters stand in Contrast to each other, for Examples to future Ages, at the head of the two contrary sorts of Criticism, which proceed from good Nature, or from ill Will. The one was honour’d with the Offices and Countenance of the Court; the other, when he apply’d to the same Place for an Encouragement amongst the Men of Learning, had his Petition rejected: The one had his Fame continu’d to Posterity; the other is only remember’d with Infamy: If the one had Antagonists, they were oblig’d to pay him the deference of a formal Answer; the other was never answer’d but in general, with those opprobrious Names of Thracian Slave and Rhetorical Dog: The one is suppos’d to have his Copy still remaining; while the other’s Remarks are perish’d as things that Men were asham’d to preserve, the just Desert of whatever arises from the miserable Principles of ill Will or Envy.
It was not the Ambition of Aegypt only to have a correct Edition of Homer. We find in the Life of the Poet Aratus, that he, having finish’d a Copy of the Odysses, was sent for by Antiochus King of Syria, and entertain’d by him while he finish’d one of the Iliad. We read too of others which were publish’d with the Names of Countrys; such as the Massaliotick and Synopick: as if the World were agreed to make his Works in their Survival undergo the same Fate with himself; and that as different Cities contended for his Birth, so they might again contend for his true Edition. But though these Reviews were not peculiar to Aegypt, the greatest Honour was theirs, in that universal Approbation which the Performance of Aristarchus receiv’d; and if it be not his Edition which we have at present, we know not to whom to ascribe it.
But the World was not contented barely to have settled an Edition of his Works. There were innumerable Comments in which they were open’d like a Treasury of Learning; and Translations whereby other Languages became enrich’d by an Infusion of his Spirit of Poetry. Aelian tells us, that even the Indians had them in their Tongue, and the Persian Kings sung them in theirs. Persius mentions a Version into Latin by Labeo, and in general the Passages and Imitations which are taken from him, are so numerous that he may be said to have been translated by piecemeal into that, and all other Languages. Which affords us this Remark, that there is hardly any thing in him, which has not been pitch’d upon by some Author or other for a particular Beauty.
It is almost incredible to what an Height the Idea of that Veneration the Ancients paid to Homer will arise, to one who reads particularly with this view, through all these Periods. He was no sooner come from his Obscurity, but Greece receiv’d him with Delight and Profit: There were then but few Books to divide their Attention, and none which had a better Title to engross it all. They made some daily Discoveries of his Beauties, which were still promoted in their different Channels by the favourite Qualities of different Nations. Sparta and Macedon consider’d him most in respect of his warlike Spirit; Athens and Aegypt with regard to his Poetry and Learning; and all their Endeavours united under the Hands of the Learned, to make him blaze forth into an universal Character. His Works, which from the beginning pass’d for excellent Poetry, grew to be History and Geography; they rose to be a Magazine of Sciences; were exalted into a Scheme of Religion; gave a Sanction to whatever Rites they mention’d; were quoted in all Cases for the Conduct of Life, and learned by Heart as the very Book of Belief and Practice. From him the Poets drew their Inspirations, the Criticks their Rules, and the Philosophers a Defence of their Opinions: Every Author was fond to use his Name; and every Profession writ Books upon him, ’till they swell’d to Libraries. The Warriors form’d themselves by his Heroes, and the Oracles deliver’d his Verses for Answers. Nor was Mankind satisfy’d to have thus seated his Character at the top of human Wisdom, but being overborn with an imagination that he transcended their Species, they admitted him to share in those Honours they gave the Deities. They instituted Games for him, dedicated Statues, erected Temples, as at Smyrna, Chios and Alexandria; and Aelian tells us, That when the Argives sacrific’d with their Guests, they us’d to invoke the Presence of Apollo and Homer together.
Thus he was settled on a Foot of Adoration, and continu’d highly venerated in the Roman Empire, when Christianity began. Heathenism was then to be destroy’d, and Homer appear’d the Father of it; whose Fictions were at once the Belief of the Pagan Religion, and the Objections of Christianity against it. He became therefore very deeply involv’d in the Question; and not with that Honour which hitherto attended him, but as a Criminal who had drawn the World into Folly. He was on one hand accus’d for having fram’d Fables upon the Works of Moses; as the Rebellion of the Giants from the building of Babel, and the casting Atè or Strife out of Heaven from the Fall of Lucifer. He was expos’d on the other hand for those which he is said to invent, as when Arnobius crys out,
"This is the Man who wounded your Venus, imprison’d your Mars, who free’d even your Jupiter by Briareus, and who finds Authorities for
all your Vices,"
&c. Mankind was w 1.129 derided for whatever he had hitherto made them believe; and x 1.130 Plato, who expell’d him his Commonwealth, has, of all the Philosophers, found the best Quarter from the Fathers, for passing that Sentence. His finest Beauties began to take a new Appearance of pernicious Qualities; and because they might be consider’d as Allurements to Fancy, or Supports to those Errors with which they were mingled, they were to be depreciated while the Contest of Faith was in being. It was hence, that the reading them was discourag’d, that we hear Ruffinus accusing St. Jerome for it, and that y 1.131 St. Austin rejects him as the grand Master of Fable; tho’ indeed the dulcissimè vanus which he applies to Homer, looks but like a fondling manner of parting with him.
This strong Attack against our Author oblig’d those Philosophers who could have acquiesc’d as his Admirers, to appear as his Defenders; who because they saw the Fables could not be literally supported, endeavour’d to find a hidden Sense, and to carry on every where that Vein of Allegory which was already broken open with Success in some Places. But how miserably were they forc’d to Shifts, when they made Juno’s dressing in the Cestos for Jupiter to signify the purging of the Air as it approach’d the Fire? Or the Story of Mars and Venus, that Inclination they have to Incontinency who are born when these Planets are in Conjunction? Wit and Learning had here a large Field to display themselves, and to disagree in: for sometimes Jupiter, and sometimes Vulcan, was made to signify the Fire; or Mars and Venus were allow’d to give us a Lecture of Morality at one time, and a Problem of Astronomy at another. And these strange Discoveries, which Porphyry and the rest would have to pass for the genuine Theology of the Greeks, prove but (as Eusebius terms it) the perverting of Fables into a mystick Sense. They did indeed often defend Homer, but then they allegorized away their Gods by doing so. What the World took for substantial Objects of Adoration, dissolv’d before its Eyes into a figurative Meaning, a moral Truth, or a Piece of Learning which might equally correspond to any Religion; and the Learned at last had left themselves nothing to worship, when they came to find an Object in Christianity.
The Dispute of Faith being over, ancient Learning re-assumed its Dignity, and Homer obtain’d his proper Place in the Esteem of Mankind. His Books are now no longer the Scheme of a living Religion, but become the Register of one of former Times. They are not now receiv’d for a Rule of Life, but valu’d for those just Observations which are dispers’d through them. They are no longer pronounc’d from Oracles, but quoted still by Authors for their Learning. Those Remarks which the Philosophers made upon them, have their Weight with us; those Beauties which the Poets dwell’d upon, their Admiration: And even after the Abatement of what was extravagant in his Run of Praise, he remains confessedly a mighty Genius not transcended by any which have since arisen; a Prince, as well as a Father, of Poetry.
IT remains in this Historical Essay, to regulate our present Opinion of Homer by a view of his Learning, compar’d with that of his Age. For this end he may first be consider’d as a Poet, that Character which was his professedly; and secondly as one endow’d with other Sciences, which must be spoken of not as in themselves, but as in Subserviency to his main Design. Thus he will be seen on his right Foot of Perfection in one view, and with the just Allowances which should be made on the other: While we pass through the several Heads of Science, the State of those Times in which he writ will show us both the Impediments he rose under, and the Reasons why several things in him which have been objected to, either could not, or should not be otherwise than they are.
As for the State of Poetry, it was at a low Pitch in the Age of Homer. There is mention of Orpheus, Linus, and Musaeus, venerable Names in Antiquity, and eminently celebrated in Fable for the wonderful Power of their Songs and Musick. The learned Fabricius, in his Bibliotheca Graeca, has reckon’d about seventy who are said to have written before Homer: but their Works were not preserv’d, and can be only consider’d (if they were really excellent) as the Happiness of their own Generation. What sort of Poets Homer saw in his own Time may be gather’d from his Description of Demodocus and Phemius, whom he has introduc’d as Opportunities to celebrate his Profession. The imperfect Risings of the Art lay then among the Extempore- Singers of Stories at Banquets, who were half Singers, half Musicians. Nor was the Name of Poet then in being, or once us’d throughout Homer’s Works. From this poor State of Poetry, he has taken a handle to usher it into the World with the boldest Stroke of Praise which has ever been given it. It is in the eighth Odyssey, where Ulysses puts Demodocus upon a trial of Skill. Demodocus having diverted the Guests with some Actions of the Trojan War;
" All this (says Ulysses ) you have sung very elegantly, as if you had either been present, or heard it reported; but pass now to a Subject I shall give you, sing the Management of Ulysses in the wooden Horse, just as it happen’d, and I will acknowledge the Gods have taught you your Songs."
This the Singer being inspir’d from Heaven begins immediately, and Ulysses by weeping at the recital confesses the Truth of it. We see here a Narration which could only pass upon an Age extreamly ignorant in the Nature of Poetry, where that Claim of Inspiration is given to it, which it has never since laid down, and (which is more) a Power of prophecying at pleasure ascrib’d to it. Thus much therefore we gather from himself concerning the most ancient State of Poetry in Greece; that no one was honour’d with the Name of Poet, before Him whom it has especially belong’d to ever after. And if we farther appeal to the consent of Authors, we find he has other Titles for being call’d the first. c 1.140 Josephus observes, That the Greeks have not contested but he was the most ancient, whose Books they had in Writing. Aristotle says, He was the
"first who brought all the Parts of a Poem into one Piece,"
to which he adds,
"with true Judgment,"
to give him a Praise including both the Invention and Perfection. And Horace acquaints us, that he invented the very Measure which is call’d Heroick from the Subjects on which he employ’d it;
Res gestae regumque, ducumque, & fortia bella, Quo scribi possint numero monstravit Homerus .
Whatever was serious or magnificent made a part of his Subject: War and Peace were the comprehensive Division in which he consider’d the World; and the Plans of his Poems were founded on the most active Scenes of each, the Adventures of a Siege, and the Accidents of a Voyage. For these his Spirit was equally active and various, lofty in Expression, clear in Narration, natural in Description, rapid in Action, abundant in Figures. If ever he appears less than himself, it is from the Time he writ in; and if he runs into Errors, it is from an Excess, rather than a Defect of Genius. Thus he rose over the Poetical World, shining out like a Sun all at once, which if it sometimes make too faint an Appearance, ’tis to be ascrib’d only to the necessity of the Season that keeps it at a distance; and if he is sometimes too violent, we confess at the same time that we owe all things to his Heat.
As for his Theology, we see the Heathen System entirely follow’d. This was all he could then have to work upon, and where he fails of Truth for want of Revelation he at least shows his Knowledge in his own Religion by the Traditions he delivers. But we are now upon a Point to be farther handled, because the greatest Controversy concerning the Merit of Homer depends upon it. Let us consider then that there was an Age in Greece, when natural Reason only discover’d there must be something superior to us, and Tradition had affix’d the Notion to a Number of Deities. At this time Homer rose with the finest Turn imaginable for Poetry, who designing to instruct Mankind in the manner for which he was most adapted, writ Poems wherein he made use of the Ministry of the Gods to give the highest Air of Surprize and Veneration to his Writings. He found the Religion of Mankind wrapt up in Fables; it was thought then the easiest way to convey Morals to the People, who were allur’d to Attention by Pleasure, and aw’d with the Opinion of a hidden Mystery. Nor was it his Business when he undertook the Province of a Poet (not of a meer Philosopher) to be the first who should discard That which furnishes Poetry with its most beautiful Appearance: and especially since the Age he liv’d in, by discovering its Taste, had not only given him Authority, but even put him under the necessity of preserving it. Whatever therefore he might think of his Gods, he took them as he found them: he brought them into Action according to the Notions which were then entertain’d, and in some Stories as they were then believ’d; unless we imagine that he invented every thing he delivers. Yet there are several Rays of Truth streaming through all this Darkness, in those Sentiments he entertains concerning the Gods; and several Allegories lightly veil’d over, from whence the learned drew new Knowledges, each according to his Power of Penetration and Fancy. But that we may the better comprehend him in all the Parts of this general View, let us extract from him a Scheme of his Religion.
He has a Jupiter, a Father of Gods and Men, whom he makes supream, and to whom he applies several Attributes, as Wisdom, Justice, Knowledge, Power, &c. which are essentially inherent to the Idea of a God. He has given him two Vessels, out of which he distributes natural Good or Evil for the Life of Man; he places the Gods in Council round him; he makes Prayers pass to and fro before him; and Mankind adore him with Sacrifice. But all this grand Appearance, wherein Poetry paid a deference to Reason, is dash’d and mingled with the Imperfection of our Nature; not only with the applying our Passions to the supreme Being (for Men have always been treated with this Complyance to their Notions) but that he is not even exempted from our common Appetites and Frailties: For he is made to eat, drink, and sleep: but this his Admirers would imagine to be only a grosser way of representing a general Notion of Happiness, because he says in one place, that the Food of the Gods was not of the same Nature with ours. But upon the whole, while he endeavour’d to speak of a Deity without a right Information, he was forc’d to take him from that Image he discover’d in Man; and (like one who being dazled with the Sun in the Heavens, would view him as he is reflected in a River) he has taken off the Impression not only ruffled with the Emotion of our Passions, but obscur’d with the earthy Mixture of our Natures.
The other Gods have all their Provinces assign’d ’em:
"Every thing has its peculiar Deity, says Maximus Tyrius, by which Homer would insinuate that the Godhead was present to all things."
When they are consider’d farther, we find he has turn’d the Virtues and Endowments of our Minds into Persons, to make the Springs of Action become visible; and because they are given by the Gods, he represents them as Gods themselves descending from Heaven. In the same strong Light he shows our Vices when they occasion Misfortunes, like extraordinary Powers which inflict them upon us, and even our natural Punishments are represented as Punishers themselves. But when we come to see the manner they are introduc’d in, they are found feasting, fighting, wounded by Men, and shedding a sort of Blood; in which his Machines play a little too grosly: the Fable which was admitted to procure the Pleasure of Surprize, violently oppresses the Allegory, and it may be lost labour to search for it in every minute Circumstance, if indeed it was intended to be there. The main Design was however Philosophical, the Dress the Poet’s, which is us’d for necessity and allow’d to be ornamental. And there will be something still to be offer’d in his Defence, if he has both preserved the grand Moral from being obscur’d, and adorn’d the Parts of his Works with such Sentiments of the Gods as belong’d to the Age he liv’d in; which that he did, appears from his having then had that Success for which Allegory was contriv’d.
"It is the Madness of Man, says Maximus Tyrius, to dis-esteem what is plain and admire what is hidden; This the Poets discovering invented the Fable for a Remedy, when they treated of holy Matters; which being more obscure than Conversation, and more clear than the Riddle, is a Mean between Knowledge and Ignorance; believ’d partly for being agreeable, and partly for being wonderful. Thus as Poets in Name, and Philosophers in Effect, they drew Mankind gradually to a search after Truth, when the Name of Philosopher would have been harsh and displeasing."
When Homer proceeds to tell us our Duty to these superior Beings, we find Prayer, Sacrifice, Lustration, and all the Rites which were esteem’d religious, constantly recommended under fear of their Displeasure. We find too a Notion of the Soul’s subsisting after this Life, but for want of Revelation he knows not what to reckon the Happiness of a future State, to any one who was not deify’d: Which is plain from the Speech of Achilles to Ulysses in the Region of the dead; where he tells him, that
"he would rather serve the poorest Creature upon Earth than rule over all the departed."
It was chiefly for this Reason that Plato excluded him his Common-Wealth; he thought Homer spoke indecently of the Gods, and dreadfully of a future State; in which Sentence he has made no Allowance for the Times he writ in. But if he can not be defended in every thing as a Theologist, yet we may say in respect of his Poetry, that he has enrich’d it from Theology with true Sentiments for Profit, adorn’d it with Allegories for Pleasure, and by using some Machines which have no farther Significancy or are so refin’d as to make it doubted if they have any, he has however produc’d that Character in Poetry which we call the Marvellous, and from which the Agreeable (according to Aristotle ) is always inseparable.
If we take the State of Greece at his time in a Political View, we find it a disunited Country, made up of small States; and whatever was manag’d in War amounted to no more than intestine Skirmishes or Pyracies abroad, which were easily reveng’d on account of their Disunion. Thus one People stole Europa, and another Io; the Graecians took Hesione from Troy, and the Trojans took Helena from Greece in Revenge. But this last having greater Friends and Alliances than any upon whom the Rapes had hitherto fallen, the Ruin of Troy was the Consequence; and the Force of the Asiatick Coasts was so broken, that this Accident put an end to the Age of Pyracies. Then the intestine Broils of Greece (which had been discontinued during the League) were renew’d upon its Dissolution. War and Sedition mov’d People from Place to Place during its want of Inhabitants; Exiles from one Country were receiv’d for Kings in another; and Leaders took Tracts of Ground to bestow them upon their Followers. Commerce was neglected, living at home unsafe, and nothing of Moment tranfacted by any but against their Neighbours: Athens only, where the People were undisturb’d because it was a barren Soil which no Body coveted, had begun to send Colonies abroad, being over-stock’d with Inhabitants.
Now a Poem coming out at so seasonable a Time, with a Moral capable of healing these Disorders by promoting Union, we may reasonably think it was design’d for that End to which it is so peculiarly adapted. If we imagine therefore that Homer was a Politician in this Affair, we may suppose him to have look’d back into the Ages past, to see if at any time the Disorder had been less; and to have pitch’d upon that Story wherein it found a temporary Cure, that by celebrating it with all possible Honour he might instil a Desire of the same sort of Union into the Hearts of his Countrymen. This indeed was a Work which could belong to none but a Poet, when Governors had Power only over small Territories, and the numerous Governments were every way independent. It was then that all the Charms of Poetry were call’d forth to insinuate the important Glory of an Alliance, and the Iliad deliver’d from the Muses with all the Pomp of Words and artificial Influence. Union among themselves was recommended, Peace at home, and Glory abroad: And lest this should be render’d useless by Mismanagements, he lets us into farther Lessons concerning it. How when his Kings quarrel, their Subjects suffer; when they act in Conjunction, Victory attends them. When they meet in Council, Plans are drawn and Provisions made for future Action; and when in the Field, the Arts of War are describ’d with the greatest Exactness. These were Lectures of general Concern to Mankind, proper for the Poet to deliver and Kings to attend to; such as made Porphyry write of the Profit that Princes might receive from Homer; and Stratocles, Hermias, and Frontinus extract military Discipline out of him. Thus tho’ Plato has banish’d him from one imaginary Commonwealth, he has still been serviceable to many real Kingdoms.
The Morality of Greece could not be perfect while there was a Weakness in its Government; Faults in Politicks are occasion’d by Faults in Ethicks, and occasion them in their turn. The Division into so many States was the rise of frequent Quarrels, whereby Men were bred up in a kind of rough untractable Disposition. Bodily Strength met with the greatest Honours, because it was daily necessary to the Subsistence of little Governments; and that headlong Courage which throws itself forward to Enterprize and Plunder, was universally caress’d, because it carry’d all things before it. It is no wonder in an Age of such Education and Customs, that, as Thucydides says,
"Robbing was honour’d, provided it were done with Gallantry, and that the ancient Poets made People question one another as they sail’d by, if they were Thieves? as a thing for which no one ought either to be scorn’d or upbraided."
These were the sort of Actions which the Singers then recorded, and it was out of such an Age that Homer was to take his Subjects. For this reason (not a want of Morality in him) we see a boasting Temper and unmanag’d Roughness in the Spirit of his Heroes, which ran out in Pride, Anger, or Cruelty. It is not in him as in our modern Romances, where Men are drawn in Perfection, and we but read with a tender Weakness what we can neither apply nor emulate. Homer writ for Men, and therefore he writ of them; if the World had been better, he would have shown it so; as the Matter now stands, we see his People with the turn of his Age, insatiably thirsting after Glory and Plunder; for which however he has found them a lawful Cause, and taken care to retard their Success by those very Faults.
In the Prosecution of the Story every Part of it has its Lessons of Morality: There is brotherly Love in Agamemnon and Menelaus, Friendship in Achilles and Patroclus, and the Love of his Country in Hector. But since we have spoken of the Iliad as more particular for its Politicks, we may consider the Odysses as its Moral is more directly fram’d for Ethicks. It carries the Heroe through a world of Trials both of the dangerous and pleasurable Nature. It shows him first under most surprizing Weights of Adversity, among Shipwrecks and Savages; all these he is made to pass through in the Methods by which it becomes a Man to conquer; a Patience in suffering, and a Presence of Mind in every Accident. It shows him again in another View, tempted with the Baits of idle or unlawful Pleasures, and then points out the Methods of being safe from them. But if in general we consider the care our Author has taken to fix his Lessons of Morality by the Proverbs and Precepts he delivers, we shall not wonder if Greece which afterwards gave the Appellation of Wise to Men who settled single Sentences of Truth, should give him the Title of the Father of Virtue for introducing such a Number. To be brief, if we take the Opinion of Horace, he has propos’d him to us as a Master of Morality; he lays down the common Philosophical Division of Good into pleasant, profitable, and honest; and then asserts that Homer has more fully and clearly instructed us in each of them, than the most rigid Philosophers.
Some indeed have thought notwithstanding all this, that Homer had only a design to please in his Inventions; and that others have since extracted Morals out of his Stories (and indeed all Stories are capable of being us’d so.) But this is an Opinion concerning Poetry which the World has rather degenerated into, than begun with. The Traditions of Orpheus’s civilizing Mankind by Hymns on the Gods, with others of the like Nature, may show there was a better use of the Art both known and practis’d. There is also a remarkable Passage of this kind in the third Book of the Odysses, that Agamemnon left one of the Poets of his Times in the Court when he sail’d for Troy; and that his Queen was preserv’d virtuous by his Songs, ’till Aegysthus was forc’d to expel him in order to debauch her. Here he has hinted what a true Poetical Spirit can do when apply’d to the Promotion of Virtue; and from this one may judge he could not but design That himself, which he recommends as the Duty and Merit of his Profession. Others since his Time may have seduc’d the Art to worse Intentions; but they who are offended at the Liberties of some Poets, should not judge all in the gross for trifling or Corruption; especially when the Evidence runs so strongly for any One to the contrary.
We may in general go on to observe, that the time when Homer was born did not abound in Learning. For whereever Politicks and Morality is weak, it wants its peaceable Air to thrive in, and that Opportunity which is not known in the Ages of unsettled Life. He is himself the Man from whom we have the first Accounts of Antiquity, either in its Actions or Learning; from whom we hear what Aegypt or Greece could inform him in, and whatever himself could discover by the Strength of Nature or Industry. But however that we may not mistake the Elogies of those Ancients who call him the Father of Arts and Sciences, and be surpriz’d to find so little of them (as they are now in Perfection) in his Works; we should know that this Character is not to be understood at large, as if he had included the full and regular Systems of every thing: He is to be consider’d professedly only in Quality of a Poet; this was his Business, to which, as whatever he knew was to be subservient, so he has not fail’d to introduce those Strokes of Knowledge from the whole Circle of Arts and Sciences, which the Subject demanded either for Necessity or Ornament. This will appear on a fair View of him in each of these Lights.
Before his Time there were no Historians in Greece: He treated Historically of past Transactions, according as he could be inform’d by Tradition, Song, or whatever Method there was of preserving their Memory. For this we have the Consent of Antiquity; they have generally more appeal’d to his Authority, and more insisted on it than on the Testimony of any other Writer, when they treat of the Rites, Customs, and Manners of the first Times. They have generally believ’d that the Acts of Tydeus at Thebes, the second Siege of that City, the Settlement of Rhodes, the Battel between the Curetes and the Aetolians, the Account of the Kings of Mycenae by the Sceptre of Agamemnon, the Acts of the Greeks at Troy, and many other such Accounts, are some of them wholly preserv’d by him, and the rest as faithfully related as by any Historian. Nor perhaps was all of his Invention which seems to be feign’d, but rather frequently the obscure Traces and Remains of real Persons and Actions; which as Strabo observes, when History was transmitted by Oral Tradition, might be mix’d with Fable before it came into the Hands of the Poet.
"This happen’d (says he) to Herodotus, the first professed Historian, who is often as fabulous as Homer when he defers to the common Reports of Countreys; and it is not to be reckon’d to either as a fault, but as a necessity of the Times."
Nay, the very Passages which cause us to tax them at this distance with being fabulous, might be occasion’d by their Diligence, and a fear of erring, if they too hastily rejected those Reports which had pass’d current in the Nations they describ’d.
Before his Time there was no such thing as Geography in Greece. For this we have the Suffrage of Strabo the best of Geographers, who approves the Opinion of Hipparchus and other Ancients, that Homer was the very Author of it; and upon this Account begins his Treatise of the Science itself with an Encomium on him. As to the general Part of it, we find he had a Knowledge of the Earth’s being surrounded with the Ocean, because he makes the Sun and Stars both to rise and set in it; and that he knew the Use of the Stars is plain from his making Ulysses sail by the Observation of them. But the Instance oftnest alledg’d upon this Point is the Shield of Achilles: where he places the Earth encompass’d with the Sea, and gives the Stars the Names they are yet known by, as the Hyades, Pleiades, the Bear, and Orion. By the three first of these he represents the Constellations of the Northern Region; and in the last he gives a single Representative of the Southern, to which (as it were for a counter-balance) he adds a Title of Greatness, [Greek]. Then he tells us that the Bear, or Stars of the Arctick Circle, never disappear; as an Observation which agrees with no other. And if to this we add (what Eratosthenes thought he meant) that the five Plates which were fastened on the Shield, divided it by the Lines where they met, into the five Zones, it will appear an original design of Globes and Spheres. In the particular Parts of Geography, his Knowledge is intirely incontestable. Strabo refers to him upon all occasions, allowing that he knew the Extreams of the Earth, some of which he names and others describes by Signs, as the Fortunate Islands. The same Author takes notice of his Accounts concerning the several Soils, Plants, Animals, and Customs; as Aegypt’s being fertile of medicinal Herbs, Lybia’s Fruitfulness, where the Sheep have Horns, and yean thrice a Year, &c. which are Knowledges that make Geography more various and profitable. But what all have agreed to celebrate is his Description of Greece; which has had Laws made for its Preservation, and Contests between Governments decided by its Authority: Which Strabo acknowledges to have no Epithet, or ornamental Expression for any Place, that is not drawn from its Nature, Quality, or Circumstances; and professes after so long an Interval to deviate from it only where the Countrey had undergone Alterations, that cast the Description into Obscurity.
In his time, Rhetorick was not known; that Art took its Rise out of Poetry, which was not ’till then establish’d.
"The
Oratorial Elocution (says Strabo ) is but an Imitation of the Poetical: this appear’d first and was approv’d: They who imitated it took off the Measures, but still preserv’d all the other Parts of Poetry in their Writings: Such as these were Cadmus the Milesian, Pherecydes, and Hecataeus. Then their Followers took something more from what was left, and at last Elocution descended into the Prose which is now among us."
But if Rhetorick is owing to Poetry, the Obligation is still more due to Homer. He (as y 1.166 Quintilian tells us) gave both the Pattern and Rise to all the Parts of it.
" Hic omnibus eloquentiae partibus exemplum & ortum dedit: hunc nemo in magnis rebus sublimitate, in parvis proprietate, superavit. Idem laetus & pressus, jucundus & gravis, tùm copiâ tùm brevitate admirabilis, nec Poeticâ modò sed oratoriâ virtute eminentissimus. "
From him therefore they who settled the Art found it proper to deduce the Rules, which was easily done, when they had divided their Observations into the Kinds and the Ornaments of Elocution. For the Kinds, the
"Ancients (says A. Gell. ) settled them according to the three which they observe in his principal Speakers; his Ulysses who is magnificent and flowing, his Menelaus who is short and close, and his Nestor who is moderate and dispassion’d, and has a kind of middle Eloquence participating of both the former."
And for the Ornaments, a 1.168 Aristotle, the great Master of the Rhetoricians, shows what deference is paid to Homer, when he orders the Orator to lay down his Heads, and express both the Manners and Affections of his Work with an Imitation of that Diction, and those Figures, which the divine Homer excel’d in. This is the constant Language of those who succeeded him, and the Opinion so far prevail’d as to make b 1.169 Quintilian observe, that they who have written concerning the Arts of Speaking, take from Homer most of the Instances of their Similitudes, Amplifications, Examples, Digressions, and Arguments.
As to Natural Philosophy, the Age was not arriv’d in which it flourish’d; however some of its Notions may be trac’d in him. As when he says that the Fountains and Rivers come from the Ocean, he holds a Circulation of Fluids in the Earth. But as this is a Branch of Learning which does not lie much in the way of a Poet who speaks of Heroes and Wars; the desire to prove his Knowledge this way has only run Politian and others into trifling Inferences: as when they would have it that he understood Nature, because he mentions Sun, Rain, Wind, and Thunder. The most probable way of making out his Knowledge in this kind, is by supposing he couch’d it in Allegories; and that he sometimes us’d the Names of the Gods as his Terms for the Elements, as the Chymists now use them for Metals. But in applying this to him we must tread very carefully; not searching for Allegory too industriously where the Passage may instruct by Example; and endeavouring rather to find the Fable an Ornament to what is easily known, than to make it a Cover to curious and unknown Problems.
As for Medicine, something of it must have been understood in that Age, though it was so far from Perfection that (according to Celsus ) what concern’d Diet was invented long afterwards by Hippocrates. The Accidents of Life make the Search after Remedies too indispensible a Duty to be neglected at any time. Accordingly he tells us, that the Aegyptians who had many medicinal Plants in their Countrey, were all Physicians: and perhaps he might have learnt his own Skill from his Acquaintance with that Nation. The State of War which Greece had liv’d in, requir’d a Knowledge in the healing of Wounds: and this might make him breed his Princes, Achilles, Patroclus, Podalirius, and Machaon to the Science. What Homer thus attributes to others he knew himself, and he has given us reason to believe, not slightly. For if we consider his Insight into the Structure of the human Body, it is so nice, that he has been judg’d by some to have wounded his Heroes with too much Science: Or if we observe his Cure of Wounds, which are the Accidents proper to an Epic Poem, we find him directing the Chirurgical Operation, sometimes infusing Lenitives, and at other times bitter Powders, when the Effusion of Blood requir’d astringent Qualities.
For Statuary, it appears by the Accounts of Aegypt and the Palladium, that there was enough of it very early in the World for those Images which were requir’d in the Worship of their Gods; but there are none mention’d as valuable in Greece so early, nor was the Art establish’d on its Rules before Homer. He found it agreeable to the Worship in use, and necessary for his Machinery, that his Gods should be cloath’d in Bodies: Wherefore he took care to give them such as carry’d the utmost Perfection of the human Form; and distinguish’d them from each other even in this superior Beauty, with such Marks as were agreeable to each of the Deities.
"This, says Strabo, awaken’d the Conceptions of the eminent Statuaries, while they strove to keep up the Grandeur of that Idea which Homer had impress’d upon their Imagination; as we read of Phidias concerning the Statue of Jupiter. "
And because they copy’d their Gods from him in their best Performances, his Descriptions became the Characters which were afterwards pursu’d in all Works of a good Taste. Hence came the common Saying of the Ancients,
"That either Homer was the only Man who had seen the Forms of the Gods, or the only one who had shown them to Men;"
a Passage which h 1.178 Madam Dacier wrests to prove the Truth of his Theology, different from Strabo’s Acceptation of it.
There are, besides what we have spoken of, other Sciences pretended to be found in him. Thus Macrobius discovers that the Chain with which Jupiter says he could lift the World, is a metaphysical Notion, that means a Connexion of all Things from the supream Being to the meanest Part of the Creation. Others, to prove him skilful in judicial Astrology, bring a Quotation concerning the Births of Hector and Polydamas on the same Night; who were nevertheless of different Qualifications, one excelling in War, and the other in Eloquence. Others again will have him to be vers’d in Magick, from his Stories concerning Ciree. These and many of the like Nature are Interpretations strain’d or trifling, such as Homer does not want for a Proof of his Learning, and by which we contribute nothing to raise his Character, while we sacrifice our Judgment to him in the Eyes of others.
It is sufficient to have gone thus far, in shewing he was a Father of Learning, a Soul capable of ranging over the whole Creation with an intellectual View, shining alone in an Age of Obscurity, and shining beyond those who have had the Opportunity of more learned Ages; leaving behind him a Work adorn’d with the Knowledge of his own Time, and in which he has before-hand broken up the Fountains of several Sciences which were brought nearer to Perfection by Posterity: A Work which shall always stand at the top of the sublime Character, to be gaz’d at by Readers with an Admiration of its Perfection, and by Writers with a Despair that it should ever be emulated with Success.
FINIS.
PAge 15. line 34. for brings him, read brings it. Pag. 17. in the References at the bottom, for [Greek], read [Greek], and for [Greek], read [Greek]. Pag. 36. in the Citation from Horace, for Argue, read Arguet.
AN ESSAY ON HOMER's Battels.
PERHAPS it may be necessary in this Place at the Opening of Homer’s Battels, to premise some Observations upon them in general. I shall first endeavour to shew the Conduct of the Poet herein, and next collect some Antiquities, that tend to a more distinct understanding of those Descriptions which make so large a Part of the Poem.
One may very well apply to Homer himself what he says of his Heroes at the end of the fourth Book, that whosoever should be guided thro’ their Battels by Minerva, and pointed to every Scene of them, would see nothing through the whole but Subjects of Surprize and Applause. When the Reader reflects that no less than the Compass of twelve Books is taken up in these, he will have Reason to wonder by what Methods our Author could prevent Descriptions of such a length from being tedious. It is not enough to say, that tho’ the Subject itself be the same, the Actions are always different; That we have now distinct Combates, now promiscuous Fights, now single Duels, now general Engagements: Or that the Scenes are perpetually vary’d; we are now in the Fields, now at the Fortification of the Greeks, now at the Ships, now at the Gates of Troy, now at the River Scamander: But we must look farther into the Art of the Poet to find the Reasons of this astonishing Variety.
We may first observe that Diversity in the Deaths of his Warriors, which he has supply’d by the vastest Fertility of Invention that ever was. These he distinguishes several ways: Sometimes by the Characters of the Men, their Age, Office, Profession, Nation, Family,&c. One is a blooming Youth, whose Father dissuaded him from the War; one is a Priest whose Piety could not save him; one is a Sportsman whom Diana taught in vain; one is the Native of a far-distant Country who is never to return; one is descended from a Noble Line which ends in his Death; one is made remarkable by his Boasting; another by his Beseeching; and another who is distinguish’d no way else is mark’d by his Habit and the Singularity of his Armor.
Sometimes he varies these Deaths by the several Postures in which his Heroes are represented either fighting or falling. Some of these are so exceedingly exact, that one may guess from the very Position of the Combatant, whereabouts the Wound will light: Others so very peculiar and uncommon, that they could only be the Effect of an Imagination which had search’d thro’ all the Ideas of Nature. Such is that Picture of Mydon in the fifth Book, whose Arm being numb’d by a blow on the Elbow, drops the Reins that trail on the Ground; and then being suddenly struck on the Temples falls headlong from the Chariot in a soft and deep Place; where he sinks up to the Shoulders in the Sands, and continues a while fix’d by the Weight of his Armor, with his Legs quivering in the Air, ’till he is trampled down by his Horses.
Another Cause of this Variety is the Difference of the Wounds that are given in the Ilaid: They are by no means like the Wounds described by most other Poets, which are commonly made in the self-same obvious Places: The Heart and Head serve for all those in general who understand no Anatomy, and sometimes for Variety they kill Men by Wounds that are no where mortal but in their Poems. As the whole human Body is the Subject of these, so nothing is more necessary to him who would describe them well, than a thorough Knowledge of its Structure; even tho’ the Poet is not professedly to write of them as an Anatomist; in the same manner as an exact Skill in Anatomy is necessary to those Painters that would excel in drawing the Naked, tho’ they are not to make every Muscle as visible as in a Book of Chirurgery. It appears from so many Passages in Homer that he was perfectly Master of this Science, that it would be needless to cite any in particular. One may only observe, that if we thoroughly examine all the Wounds he has described, tho’ so infinite in Number, and so many ways diversify’d, we shall hardly find one which will contradict this Observation.
I must just add a Remark, that the various Periphrases and Circumlocutions by which Homer expresses the single Act of Dying, have supply’d Virgil and the succeeding Poets with all their manners of phrasing it. Indeed he repeats the same Verse on that Occasion more often than they— [Greek], &c. But tho’ it must be owned he had more frequent Occasions for a Line of this Kind than any Poet, as no other has describ’d half so many Deaths, yet one cannot ascribe this to any Sterility of Expression, but to the Genius of his Times, that delighted in those reiterated Verses. We find Repetitions of the same sort affected by the sacred Writers, such as He was gathered to his People; He slept with his Fathers, and the like. And upon the whole they have a certain antiquated Harmony not unlike the Burthen of a Song, which the Ear is willing to suffer, and as it were rests upon.
As the perpetual Horror of Combates, and a Succession of Images of Death, could not but keep the Imagination very much on the stretch; Homer has been careful to contrive such Reliefs and Pauses as might divert the Mind to some other Scene, without losing Sight of his principal Object. His Comparisons are the more frequent on this Account; for a Comparison serves this End the most effectually of any thing, as it is at once correspondent to, and differing from the Subject. Those Criticks who fancy that the Use of Comparisons distracts the Attention, and draws it from the first Image which should most employ it (as that we lose the Idea of the Battel itself, while we are led by a Simile to that of a Deluge or a Storm:) Those, I say, may as well imagine we lose the Thought of the Sun, when we see his Reflection in the Water; where he appears more distinctly, and is contemplated more at ease than if we gaz’d directly at his Beams. For ’tis with the Eye of the Imagination as with our corporeal Eye, it must sometimes be taken off from the Object in order to see in the better. The same Criticks that are displeased to have their Fancy distracted (as they call it) are yet so inconsistent with themselves as to object to Homer that his Similes are too much alike, and are too often derived from the same Animal. But is it not more reasonable (according to their own Notion) to compare the same Man always to the same Animal, than to see him sometimes a Sun, sometimes a Tree, and sometimes a River? Tho’ Homer speaks of the same Creature, he so diversifies the Circumstances and Accidents of the Comparisons, that they always appear quite different. And to say Truth, it is not so much the Animal or the Thing, as the Action or Posture of them, that employs our Imagination: Two different Animals in the same Action are more like to each other, than one and the same Animal is to himself, in two different Actions. And those who in reading Homer are shock’d that ’tis always a Lion, may as well be angry that ’tis always a Man. What may seem more exceptionable is his inserting the same Comparisons in the same Words at length upon different Occasions, by which Management he makes one single Image afford many Ornaments to several Parts of the Poem. But may not one say Homer is in this like a skilful Improver, who places a beautiful Statue in a well-disposed Garden so as to answer several Vistas, and by that Artifice one single Figure seems multiply’d into as many Objects as there are Openings from whence it may be viewed?
What farther relieves and softens these Descriptions of Battels, is the Poet’s wonderful Art of introducing many pathetick Circumstances about the Deaths of the Heroes, which raise a different Movement in the Mind from what those Images naturally inspire, I mean Compassion and Pity; when he causes us to look back upon the lost Riches, Possessions, and Hopes of those who die: When he transports us to their Native Countries and Paternal Seats, to see the Griefs of their aged Fathers, the Despair and Tears of their Widows, or the abandon’d Condition of their Orphans. Thus when Protesilaus falls, we are made to reflect on the lofty Palaces he left half finish’d; when the Sons of Phenops are killed, we behold the mortifying Distress of their wealthy Father, who saw his Estate divided before his Eyes, and taken in Trust for Strangers. When Axylus dies, we are taught to compassionate the hard Fate of that generous and hospitable Man, whose House was the House of all Men, and who deserv’d that glorious Elogy of, The Friend of Human-kind. It is worth taking Notice too, what Use Homer every where makes of each little Accident or Circumstance that can naturally happen in a Battel, thereby to cast a Variety over his Action; as well as of every Turn of Mind or Emotion a Hero can possibly feel, such as Resentment, Revenge, Concern, Confusion, &c. The former of these makes his Work resemble a large History-Piece, where even the less important Figures and Actions have yet some convenient Place or Corner to be shewn in; and the latter gives it all the Advantages of Tragedy in those various Turns of Passion that animate the Speeches of his Heroes, and render his whole Poem the most Dramatick of any Epick whatsoever.
It must also be observ’d that the constant Machines of the Gods conduce very greatly to vary these long Battels, by a continual Change of the Scene from Earth to Heaven. Homer perceiv’d them too necessary for this Purpose to abstain from the Use of them, even after Jupiter had enjoin’d the Deities not to Act on either side. It is remarkable how many Methods he has found to draw them into every Book; where if they dare not assist the Warriors, at least they are very helpful to the Poet.
But there is nothing that more contributes to the Variety, Surprize, and Eclat of Homer’s Battels, or is more perfectly admirable in itself, than that artful Manner of taking Measure, or (as one may say) Gaging his Heroes by each other, and thereby elevating the Character of one Person by the Opposition of it to that of some other whom he is made to excell. So that he many times describes one only to image another, and raises one only to raise another. I cannot better exemplify this Remark, than by giving an Instance in the Character of Diomed that lies before me. Let us observe by what a Scale of Oppositions he elevates this Hero, in the fifth Book, first to excell all human Valour, and after to rival the Gods themselves. He distinguishes him first from the Grecian Captains in general, each of whom he represents conquering a single Trojan, while Diomed constantly encounters two at once; and while they are engag’d each in his distinct Post, he only is drawn fighting in every quarter, and slaughtering on every side. Next he opposes him to Pandarus, next to Aeneas, and then to Hector. So of the Gods he shews him first against Venus, then Apollo, then Mars, and lastly in the eighth Book against Jupiter himself in the midst of his Thunders. The same Conduct is observable more or less in regard to every Personage of his Work.
This Subordination of the Heroes is one of the Causes that make each of his Battels rise above the other in Greatness, Terror, and Importance, to the end of the Poem. If Diomed has perform’d all these Wonders in the first Combates, it is but to raise Hector, at whose Appearance he begins to fear. If in the next Battels Hector triumphs not only over Diomed, but over Ajax and Patroclus, sets fire to the Fleet, wins the Armor of Achilles, and singly eclipses all the Heroes; in the midst of all this Glory, Achilles appears, Hector flies, and is slain.
The Manner in which his Gods are made to act, no less advances the Gradation we are speaking of. In the first Battels they are seen only in short and separate Excursions: Venus assists Paris, Minerva Diomed, or Mars Hector. In the next a clear Stage is left for Jupiter, to display his Omnipotence and turn the Fate of Armies alone. In the last, all the Powers of Heaven are let down and banded into regular Parties, Gods encountring Gods, Jove encouraging them with his Thunders, Neptune raising his Tempests, Heaven flaming, Earth trembling, and Pluto himself starting from the Throne of Hell.
I AM now to take Notice of some Customs of Antiquity, relating to the Arms and Art Military of those Times, which are proper to be known in order to form a right Notion of our Author’s Descriptions of War.
That Homer copied the Manners and Customs of the Age he writ of, rather than of that he lived in, has been observed in some Instances. As that he no where represents Cavalry or Trumpets to have been used in the Trojan Wars, tho’ they apparently were in his own Time. It is not therefore impossible but there may be found in his Works some Deficiencies in the Art of War, which are not to be imputed to his Ignorance, but to his Judgment.
Horses had not been brought into Greece long before the Siege of Troy. They were originally Eastern Animals, and if we find at that very Period so great a Number of them reckon’d up in the Wars of the Israelites, it is the less a wonder considering they came from Asia. The Practice of riding them was so little known in Greece a few Years before, that they look’d upon the Centaurs who first used it, as Monsters compounded of Men and Horses. Nestor in the first Iliad says he had seen these Centaurs in his Youth, and Polypaetes in the second is said to have been born on the Day that his Father expelled them from Pelion to the Desarts of Aethica. They had no other Use of Horses than to draw their Chariots in Battel, so that whenever Homer speaks of fighting from an Horse, taming an Horse, or the like, it is constantly to be understood of fighting from a Chariot, or taming Horses to that Service. This (as we have said) was a piece of Decorum in the Poet; for in his own Time they were arrived to such a Perfection in Horsemanship, that in the fifteenth Iliad℣. 680. we have a Simile taken from an extraordinary Feat of Activity, where one Man manages four Horses at once, and leaps from the Back of one to another at full Speed.
If we consider in what high Esteem among Warriors these noble Animals must have been at their first coming into Greece, we shall the less wonder at the frequent Occasions Homer has taken to describe and celebrate them. It is not so strange to find them set almost upon a level with Men, at the time when a Horse in the Prizes was of equal Value with a Captive. The Chariots were in all Probability very low. For we frequently find in the Iliad, that a Person who stands erect on a Chariot is killed (and sometimes by a Stroke on the Head) by a Foot-Soldier with a Sword. This may farther appear from the Ease and Readiness with which they alight or mount on every Occasion, to facilitate which, the Chariots were made open behind. That the Wheels were but small, may be guest from a Custom they had of taking them off and setting them on, as they were laid by, or made use of. Hebe in the fifth Book puts on the Wheels of Juno’s Chariot when she calls for it in haste. And it seems to be with Allusion to the same Practice that it is said in Exodus Ch. 14. The Lord took off their Chariot Wheels, so that they drove them heavily. The Sides were also low; for whoever is killed in his Chariot throughout the Poem, constantly falls to the Ground as having nothing to support him. That the whole Machine was very small and light, is evident from a Passage in the tenth Iliad, where Diomed having taken a Chariot, debates whether he shall draw it out of the way, or carry it on his Shoulders to a Place of Safety. All these Particulars agree with the Representations of the Chariots on the most ancient Greek Coins; where the Tops of them reach not so high as the Backs of the Horses, the Wheels are yet lower, and the Heroes who stand in them are seen from the Knee upwards. This may serve to shew those Criticks are under a Mistake, who blame Homer for making his Warriors sometimes retire behind their Chariots, as if it were a Piece of Cowardice: which was as little disgraceful then, as it is now to alight from one’s Horse in a Battel on any necessary Emergency.
There were generally two Persons in each Chariot, one of whom was wholly employ’d in guiding the Horses. They used indifferently two, three, or four Horses: From hence it happens, that sometimes when a Horse is killed, the Hero continues the Fight with the two or more that remain; and at other times a Warrior retreats upon the Loss of one; not that he has less Courage than the other, but that he has fewer Horses.
Their Swords were all broad cutting Swords, for we find they never stab but with their Spears. The Spears were used two ways, either to push with, or to cast from them, like the missive Javelins. It seems surprizing that a Man should throw a Dart or Spear with such Force as to pierce thro’ both sides of the Armor and the Body (as is often described in Homer.) For if the Strength of the Men was Gigantick, the Armor must have been strong in Proportion. Some Solution might be given for this, if we imagin’d the Armor was generally Brass, and the Weapons pointed with Iron; and if we could fancy that Homer call’d the Spears and Swords Brazen in the same manner that he calls the Reins of a Bridle Ivory, only from the Ornaments about them. But there are Passages where the Point of the Spear is expressly said to be of Brass, as in the Description of that of Hector in Iliad 6. ℣. 320. Pausanias in Laconicis takes it for granted, that the Arms, as well offensive as defensive, were Brass. He says the Spear of Achilles was kept in his Time in the Temple of Minerva, the Top and Point of which were of Brass; and the Sword of Meriones, in that of Aesculapius among the Nicomedians, was entirely of the same Metal. But be it as it will, there are Examples even at this Day of such a prodigious Force in casting Darts, as almost exceeds Credibility. The Turks and Arabs will pierce thro’ thick Planks with Darts of harden’d Wood; which can only be attributed to their being bred (as the Ancients were) to that Exercise, and to the Strength and Agility acquir’d by a constant Practice of it.
We may ascribe to the same Cause their Power of casting Stones of a vast Weight, which appears a common Practice in these Battels. Those are in a great Error, who imagine this to be only a fictitious Embellishment of the Poet, which was one of the Exercises of War among the ancient Greeks and Orientals. St. Jerome tells us, it was an old Custom in Palestine, and in Use in his own Time, to have round Stones of a great Weight kept in the Castles and Villages for the Youth to try their Strength with. And the Custom is yet extant in some Parts of Scotland, where Stones for the same Purpose are laid at the Gates of great Houses, which they call Putting-Stones. Another Consideration which will account for many things that may seem uncouth in Homer, is the Reflection that before the Use of Fire-Arms there was infinitely more Scope for personal Valor than in the modern Battels. Now whensoever the personal Strength of the Combatants happen’d to be unequal, the declining a single Combate could not be so dishonourable as it is in this Age, when the Arms we make use of put all Men on a level. For a Soldier of far inferior Strength may manage a Rapier or Fire-Arms so expertly as to be an Overmatch to his Adversary. This may appear a sufficient Excuse for what in the modern Construction might seem Cowardice in Homer’s Heroes, when they avoid engaging with others whose bodily Strength exceeds their own. The Maxims of Valor in all Times were founded upon Reason, and the Cowardice ought rather in this Case to be imputed to him who braves his Inferior. There was also more Leisure in their Battels before the Knowledge of Fire-Arms; and this in a good Degree accounts for those Harangues his Heroes make to each other in the Time of Combate.
There was another Practice frequently used by these ancient Warriors, which was to spoil an Enemy of his Arms after they had slain him; and this Custom we see them frequently pursuing with such Eagerness as if they look’d on their Victory not complete ’till this Point was gain’d. Some modern Criticks have accused them of Avarice on account of this Practice, which might probably arise from the great Value and Scarceness of Armor in that early Time and Infancy of War. It afterwards became a Point of Honour like gaining a Standard from the Enemy. Moses and David speak of the Pleasure of obtaining many Spoils. They preserv’d them as Monuments of Victory, and even Religion at last became interested herein, when those Spoils were consecrated in the Temples of the Tutelar Deities of the Conqueror.
The Reader may easily see I set down these Heads just as they occur to my Memory, and only as Hints to farther Observations; which any one who is conversant in Homer can not fail to make, if he will but think a little in the same Track.
It is no Part of my Design to enquire what Progress had been made in the Art of War at this early Period: The bare Perusal of the Iliad will best inform us of it. But what I think tends more immediately to the better Comprehension of these Descriptions, is to give a short View of the Scene of War, the Situation of Troy, and those Places which Homer mentions, with the proper Field of each Battel: Putting together for this Purpose those Passages in my Author that give any Light to this Matter.
The ancient City of Troy stood at a greater Distance from the Sea than those Ruins which have since been shewn for it. This may be gather’d from Iliad 5. ℣. (of the Original) 791. where it is said that the Trojans never durst sally out of the Walls of their Town ’till the Retirement of Achilles, but afterwards combated the Grecians at their very Ships, far from the City. For had Troy stood (as Strabo observes) so nigh the Sea-shore, it had been Madness in the Greeks not to have built any Fortification before their Fleet till the tenth Year of the Siege, when the Enemy was so near them: And on the other hand, it had been Cowardice in the Trojans not to have attempted any thing all that time, against an Army that lay unfortify’d and unintrench’d. Besides the intermediate Space had been too small to afford a Field for so many various Adventures and Actions of War. The Places about Troy particularly mentioned by Homer lie in this Order.
IT seems, by the 465 th Verse of the second Iliad, that the Grecian Army was drawn up under the several Leaders by the Banks of Scamander on that side toward the Ships: In the mean time that of Troy and the Auxiliaries was rang’d in Order at Myrinne’s Sepulchre. Ibid.℣. 320 of the Catal. The Place of the First Battel where Diomed performs his Exploits, was near the joining of Simois and Scamander; for Juno and Pallas coming to him, alight at the Confluence of those Rivers. Il. 5. ℣. 776. and that the Greeks had not yet past the Stream, but fought on that side next the Fleet, appears from ℣. 791 of the same Book, where Juno says the Trojans now brave them at their very Ships. But in the beginning of the sixth Book, the Place of Battel is specify’d to be between the Rivers of Simois and Scamander; so that the Greeks(tho’ Homer does not particularize when, or in what manner) had then cross’d the Stream toward Troy. The Engagement in the eighth Book is evidently close to the Grecian Fortification on the Shore. That Night Hector lay at Ilus’s Tomb in the Field, as Dolon tells us Lib. 10. ℣. 415. And in the eleventh Book the Battel is chiefly about Ilus’s Tomb.
In the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth, about the Fortification of the Greeks, and in the fifteenth at the Ships. In the sixteenth, the Trojans being repulsed by Patroclus, they engage between the Fleet, the River, and the Grecian Wall: See ℣. 396. Patroclus still advancing they fight at the Gates of Troy℣. 700. In the seventeenth the Fight about the Body of Patroclus is under the Trojan Wall ℣. 403. His Body being carried off, Hector and Aeneas pursue the Greeks to the Fortification ℣. 760. And in the eighteenth, upon Achilles’s appearing, they retire and encamp without the Fortification.
In the twentieth, the Fight is still on that side next the Sea; for the Trojans being pursued by Achilles, pass over the Scamander as they run toward Troy: See the beginning of Book 21. The following Battels are either in the River itself, or between that and the City, under whose Walls Hector is kill’d in the twenty second Book, which puts an end to the Battels of the Iliad.
Book I THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
IN the War of Troy, the Greeks having sack’d some of the neighbouring Towns, and taken from thence two beautiful Captives, Chruseis and Briseis , allotted the first to Agagamemnon , and the last to Achilles. Chryses, the Father of Chruseis and Priest of Apollo, comes to the Grecian Camp to ransome her; with which the Action of the Poem opens, in the Tenth Year of the Siege. The Priest being refus’d and insolently dismiss’d by Agamemnon, intreats for Vengeance from his God, who inflicts a Pestilence on the Greeks. Achilles calls a Council, and encourages Chalcas to declare the Cause of it, who attributes it to the Refusal of Chruseis. The King being obliged to send back his Captive, enters into a furious Contest with Achilles, which Nestor pacifies; however as he had the absolute Command of the Army, he seizes on Briseis in revenge. Achilles in discontent withdraws himself and his Forces from the rest of the Greeks; and complaining to Thetis, she supplicates Jupiter to render them sensible of the Wrong done to her Son, by giving Victory to the Trojans. Jupiter granting her Suit incenses Juno, between whom the Debate runs high, ’till they are reconciled by the Address of Vulcan. The Time of two and twenty Days is taken up in this Book; nine during the Plague, one in the Council and Quarrel of the Princes, and twelve for Jupiter’s Stay with the Aethiopians, at whose Return Thetis prefers her Petition. The Scene lies in the Grecian Camp, then changes to Chrysa, and lastly to the Gods on Olympus.
Index to The Argument
- [1-8] Invocation: Achilles’ wrath & its cost
- [9-14] Set-up: plague on the Greeks
- [15-32] Chryses comes to ransom Chryseis
- [33-46] Agamemnon refuses the priest
- [51-72] Chryses prays; Apollo sends plague
- [73-90] Achilles calls a council
- [91-106] Calchas asks protection
- [107-116] Achilles guarantees Calchas
- [117-126] Cause named: return Chryseis un-ransomed
- [127-150] Agamemnon’s fury
- [155-166] Achilles challenges the King
- [167-180] Agamemnon’s demand & threats
- [181-192] Expedition ordered to return Chryseis
- [193-206] Achilles’ invective (round 1)
- [207-224] Achilles’ invective (round 2)
- [225-250] Agamemnon vows to seize Briseis
- [251-292] Achilles draws; Athena restrains him
- [295-326] Achilles’ oath on the scepter
- [329-375] Nestor’s mediation
- [376-403] Aftermath: quarrel unresolved
- [404-409] Chryseis sent back by Ulysses
- [410-419] Camp-wide propitiation to Apollo
- [420-447] Agamemnon sends for Briseis
- [450-459] Briseis taken; Achilles laments on the shore
- [460-471] Thetis appears; Achilles’ complaint
- [472-565] Thetis consoles; promises to petition Jove
- [566-621] At Chrysa: rites and reconciliation
- [622-633] Voyage back to the Grecian camp
- [634-639] Achilles withdraws from action
- [640-679] Thetis supplicates Jove on Olympus
- [680-689] Jove grants the nod of fate
- [690-735] Juno’s jealousy; quarrel with Jove
- [736-769] Vulcan reconciles the gods; banquet
- [770-781] Night falls; close of Book I
- [71-76] Time marker: nine days of plague
- [554-561] Time marker: twelve days with the Aethiopians
- [1-180] Scene: Grecian camp
- [566-621] Scene: Chrysa
- [640-781] Scene: Olympus
- [478-509] Background: sacked towns & the two captives
THE Wrath of Peleus’ Son, the direful Spring
Of all the Grecian Woes, O Goddess, sing!
That Wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy Reign
The Souls of mighty Chiefs untimely slain;
Whose Limbs unbury’d on the naked Shore
Devouring Dogs and hungry Vultures tore.
Since Great Achilles and Atrides strove,
Such was the Sov’reign Doom, and such the Will of Jove.
Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated Hour
Sprung the fierce Strife, from what offended Pow’r?
Latona’s Son a dire Contagion spread,
And heap’d the Camp with Mountains of the Dead;
The King of Men his Rev’rend Priest defy’d,
And, for the King’s Offence, the People dy’d.
For Chryses sought with costly Gifts to gain
His Captive Daughter from the Victor’s Chain.
Suppliant the Venerable Father stands,
Apollo’s awful Ensigns grace his Hands:
By these he begs; and lowly bending down,
Extends the Sceptre and the Laurel Crown.
He su’d to All, but chief implor’d for Grace
The Brother-Kings, of Atreus’ Royal Race.
Ye Kings and Warriors! may your Vows be crown’d,
And Troy’s proud Walls lie level with the Ground.
May Jove restore you, when your Toils are o’er,
Safe to the Pleasures of your native Shore.
But oh! relieve a wretched Parent’s Pain,
And give Chruseis to these Arms again;
If Mercy fail, yet let my Presents move,
And dread avenging Phoebus, Son of Jove.
The Greeks in Shouts their joint Assent declare
The Priest to rev’rence, and release the Fair.
Not so Atrides: He, with Kingly Pride,
Repuls’d the sacred Sire, and thus reply’d.
Hence on thy Life, and fly these hostile Plains,
Nor ask, Presumptuous, what the King detains;
Hence, with thy Laurel Crown, and Golden Rod,
Nor trust too far those Ensigns of thy God.
Mine is thy Daughter, Priest, and shall remain;
And Pray’rs, and Tears, and Bribes shall plead in vain;
’Till Time shall rifle ev’ry youthful Grace,
And Age dismiss her from my cold Embrace,
In daily Labours of the Loom employ’d,
Or doom’d to deck the Bed she once enjoy’d.
Hence then: to Argos shall the Maid retire;
Far from her native Soil, and weeping Sire.
The trembling Priest along the Shore return’d,
And in the Anguish of a Father mourn’d.
Disconsolate, nor daring to complain,
Silent he wander’d by the sounding Main:
50’Till, safe at distance, to his God he prays,
The God who darts around the World his Rays.
O Smintheus! sprung from fair Latona’s Line,
Thou Guardian Pow’r of Cilla the Divine,
Thou Source of Light! whom Tenedos adores,
And whose bright Presence gilds thy Chrysa’s Shores.
If e’er with Wreaths I hung thy sacred Fane,
Or fed the Flames with Fat of Oxen slain;
God of the Silver Bow! thy Shafts employ,
Avenge thy Servant, and the Greeks destroy.
Thus Chryses pray’d: the fav’ring Pow’r attends,
And from Olympus’ lofty Tops descends.
Bent was his Bow, the Grecian Hearts to wound;
Fierce as he mov’d, his Silver Shafts resound.
Breathing Revenge, a sudden Night he spread,
And gloomy Darkness roll’d around his Head.
The Fleet in View, he twang’d his deadly Bow,
And hissing fly the feather’d Fates below.
On Mules and Dogs th’ Infection first began,
And last, the vengeful Arrows fix’d in Man.
For nine long Nights, thro’ all the dusky Air
The Fires thick-flaming shot a dismal Glare.
But ere the tenth revolving Day was run,
Inspir’d by Juno, Thetis’ God-like Son
Conven’d to Council all the Grecian Train;
For much the Goddess mourn’d her Heroes slain.
Th’ Assembly seated, rising o’er the rest,
Achilles thus the King of Men addrest.
Why leave we not the fatal Trojan Shore,
And measure back the Seas we crost before?
The Plague destroying whom the Sword would spare,
’Tis time to save the few Remains of War.
But let some Prophet, or some sacred Sage,
Explore the Cause of great Apollo’s Rage;
Or learn the wastful Vengeance to remove,
By mystic Dreams; for Dreams descend from Jove.
If broken Vows this heavy Curse have laid,
Let Altars smoke, and Hecatombs be paid.
So Heav’n aton’d shall dying Greece restore,
And Phoebus dart his burning Shafts no more.
He said and sate: when Chalcas thus reply’d,
Chalcas the wise, the Grecian Priest and Guide,
That sacred Seer whose comprehensive View
The past, the present, and the future knew.
Uprising slow, the venerable Sage
Thus spoke the Prudence and the Fears of Age.
Belov’d of Jove, Achilles! wou’dst thou know
Why angry Phoebus bends his fatal Bow?
First give thy Faith, and plight a Prince’s Word
Of sure Protection by thy Pow’r and Sword.
100For I must speak what Wisdom would conceal,
And Truths invidious to the Great reveal.
Bold is the Task, when Subjects grown too wise
Instruct a Monarch where his Error lies;
For tho’ we deem the short-liv’d Fury past,
’Tis sure, the Mighty will revenge at last.
To whom Pelides. From thy inmost Soul
Speak what thou know’st, and speak without controul.
Ev’n by that God I swear, who rules the Day;
To whom thy Hands the Vows of Greece convey,
And whose blest Oracles thy Lips declare;
Long as Achilles breathes this vital Air,
No daring Greek of all the num’rous Band,
Against his Priest shall lift an impious Hand:
Not ev’n the Chief by whom our Hosts are led,
The King of Kings, shall touch that sacred Head.
Encourag’d thus, the blameless Priest replies:
Nor Vows unpaid, nor slighted Sacrifice,
But He, our Chief, provok’d the raging Pest,
Appollo’s Vengeance for his injur’d Priest.
Nor will the God’s awaken’d Fury cease,
But Plagues shall spread, and Fun’ral Fires increase,
’Till the great King, without a Ransom paid,
To her own Chrysa send the black-ey’d Maid.
Perhaps, with added Sacrifice and Pray’r,
The Priest may pardon, and the God may spare.
The Prophet spoke; when with a gloomy Frown,
The Monarch started from his shining Throne;
Black Choler fill’d his Breast that boil’d with Ire,
And from his Eyeballs flash’d the living Fire.
Augur accurst! denouncing Mischief still,
Prophet of Plagues, for ever boding Ill!
Still must that Tongue some wounding Message bring,
And still thy Priestly Pride provoke thy King?
For this are Phoebus’ Oracles explor’d,
To teach the Greeks to murmur at their Lord?
For this with Falshoods is my Honour stain’d;
Is Heav’n offended, and a Priest profan’d,
Because my Prize, my beauteous Maid I hold,
And heav’nly Charms prefer to proffer’d Gold?
A Maid, unmatch’d in Manners as in Face,
Skill’d in each Art, and crown’d with ev’ry Grace.
Not half so dear were Clytemnestra’s Charms,
When first her blooming Beauties blest my Arms.
Yet if the Gods demand her, let her sail;
Our Cares are only for the Publick Weal:
Let me be deem’d the hateful Cause of all,
And suffer, rather than my People fall.
The Prize, the beauteous Prize I will resign,
So dearly valu’d, and so justly mine.
150But since for common Good I yield the Fair,
My private Loss let grateful Greece repair;
Nor unrewarded let your Prince complain,
That He alone has fought and bled in vain.
Insatiate King ( Achilles thus replies)
Fond of the Pow’r, but fonder of the Prize!
Would’st thou the Greeks their lawful Prey shou’d yield,
The due Reward of many a well-fought Field?
The Spoils of Cities raz’d, and Warriors slain,
We share with Justice, as with Toil we gain:
But to resume whate’er thy Av’rice craves,
(That Trick of Tyrants) may be born by Slaves.
Yet if our Chief for Plunder only fight,
The Spoils of Ilion shall thy Loss requite,
Whene’er, by Jove’s Decree, our conqu’ring Pow’rs
Shall humble to the Dust her lofty Tow’rs.
Then thus the King. Shall I my Prize resign
With tame Content, and Thou possest of thine?
Great as thou art, and like a God in Fight,
Think not to rob me of a Soldier’s Right.
At thy Demand shall I restore the Maid?
First let the just Equivalent be paid;
Such as a King might ask; and let it be
A Treasure worthy Her, and worthy Me.
Or grant me this, or with a Monarch’s Claim
This Hand shall seize some other Captive Dame.
The mighty Ajax shall his Prize resign,
Ulysses’ Spoils, or ev’n thy own be mine.
The Man who suffers, loudly may complain;
And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain.
But this when Time requires—It now remains
We launch a Bark to plow the watry Plains,
And waft the Sacrifice to Chrysa’s Shores,
With chosen Pilots, and with lab’ring Oars.
Soon shall the Fair the sable Ship ascend,
And some deputed Prince the Charge attend;
This Creta’s King, or Ajax shall fulfill,
Or wise Ulysses see perform’d our Will,
Or, if our Royal Pleasure shall ordain,
Achilles self conduct her o’er the Main;
Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in his Rage,
The God propitiate, and the Pest asswage.
At this, Pelides frowning stern, reply’d:
O Tyrant, arm’d with Insolence and Pride!
Inglorious Slave to Int’rest, ever join’d
With Fraud, unworthy of a Royal Mind.
What gen’rous Greek obedient to thy Word,
Shall form an Ambush, or shall lift the Sword?
What Cause have I to war at thy Decree?
The distant Trojans never injur’d me.
200To Pthia’s Realms no hostile Troops they led;
Safe in her Vales my warlike Coursers fed:
Far hence remov’d, the hoarse-resounding Main
And Walls of Rocks, secure my native Reign,
Whose fruitful Soil luxuriant Harvests grace,
Rich in her Fruits, and in her martial Race.
Hither we sail’d, a voluntary Throng,
T’ avenge a private, not a publick Wrong:
What else to Troy th’ assembled Nations draws,
But thine, Ungrateful, and thy Brother’s Cause?
Is this the Pay our Blood and Toils deserve,
Disgrac’d and injur’d by the Man we serve?
And dar’st thou threat to snatch my Prize away,
Due to the Deeds of many a dreadful Day?
A Prize as small, O Tyrant! match’d with thine,
As thy own Actions if compar’d to mine.
Thine in each Conquest is the wealthy Prey,
Tho’ mine the Sweat and Danger of the Day.
Some trivial Present to my Ships I bear,
Or barren Praises pay the Wounds of War.
But know, proud Monarch, I’m thy Slave no more;
My Fleet shall waft me to Thessalia’s Shore.
Left by Achilles on the Trojan Plain,
What Spoils, what Conquests shall Atrides gain?
To this the King: Fly, mighty Warriour! fly,
Thy Aid we need not, and thy Threats defy.
There want not Chiefs in such a Cause to fight,
And Jove himself shall guard a Monarch’s Right.
Of all the Kings (the Gods distinguish’d Care)
To Pow’r superior none such Hatred bear:
Strife and Debate thy restless Soul employ,
And Wars and Horrors are thy savage Joy.
If thou hast Strength, ’twas Heav’n that Strength bestow’d,
For know, vain Man! thy Valour is from God.
Haste, launch thy Vessels, fly with Speed away,
Rule thy own Realms with arbitrary Sway:
I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate
Thy short-liv’d Friendship, and thy groundless Hate.
Go, threat thy Earth-born Myrmidons; but here
’Tis mine to threaten, Prince, and thine to fear.
Know, if the God the beauteous Dame demand,
My Bark shall waft her to her native Land;
But then prepare, Imperious Prince! prepare,
Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive Fair:
Ev’n in thy Tent I’ll seize the blooming Prize,
Thy lov’d Briseïs with the radiant Eyes.
Hence shalt thou prove my Might, and curse the Hour,
Thou stood’st a Rival of Imperial Pow’r;
And hence to all our Host it shall be known,
That Kings are subject to the Gods alone.
250Achilles heard, with Grief and Rage opprest,
His Heart swell’d high, and labour’d in his Breast.
Distracting Thoughts by turns his Bosom rul’d,
Now fir’d by Wrath, and now by Reason cool’d:
That prompts his Hand to draw the deadly Sword,
Force thro’ the Greeks, and pierce their haughty Lord;
This whispers soft his Vengeance to controul,
And calm the rising Tempest of his Soul.
Just as in Anguish of Suspence he stay’d,
While half unsheath’d appear’d the glitt’ring Blade,
Minerva swift descended from above,
Sent by the Sister and the Wife of Jove;
(For both the Princes claim’d her equal Care)
Behind she stood, and by the Golden Hair
Achilles seiz’d; to him alone confest;
A sable Cloud conceal’d her from the rest.
He saw, and sudden to the Goddess cries,
Known by the Flames that sparkled from her Eyes.
Descends Minerva, in her guardian Care,
A heav’nly Witness of the Wrongs I bear
From Atreus’ Son? Then let those Eyes that view
The daring Crime, behold the Vengeance too.
Forbear! (the Progeny of Jove replies)
To calm thy Fury I forsook the Skies:
Let great Achilles, to the Gods resign’d,
To Reason yield the Empire o’er his Mind.
By awful Juno this Command is giv’n;
The King and You are both the Care of Heav’n.
The Force of keen Reproaches let him feel,
But sheath, Obedient, thy revenging Steel.
For I pronounce (and trust a heav’nly Pow’r)
Thy injur’d Honour has its fated Hour,
When the proud Monarch shall thy Arms implore,
And bride thy Friendship with a boundless Store.
Then let Revenge no longer bear the Sway,
Command thy Passions, and the Gods obey.
To her Pelides. With regardful Ear
’Tis just, O Goddess! I thy Dictates hear.
Hard as it is, my Vengeance I suppress:
Those who revere the Gods, the Gods will bless.
He said, observant of the blue-ey’d Maid;
Then in the Sheath return’d the shining Blade.
The Goddess swift to high Olympus flies,
And joins the sacred Senate of the Skies.
Nor yet the Rage his boiling Breast forsook,
Which thus redoubling on the Monarch broke.
O Monster, mix’d of Insolence and Fear,
Thou Dog in Forehead, but in Heart a Deer!
When wert thou known in ambush’d Fights to dare,
Or nobly face the horrid Front of War?
300’Tis ours, the Chance of fighting Fields to try,
Thine to look on, and bid the Valiant dye.
So much ’tis safer thro’ the Camp to go,
And rob a Subject, than despoil a Foe.
Scourage of thy People, violent and base!
Sent in Jove’s Anger on a slavish Race,
Who lost to Sense of gen’rous Freedom past
Are tam’d to Wrongs, or this had been thy last.
Now by this sacred Sceptre, hear me swear,
Which never more shall Leaves or Blossoms bear,
Which sever’d from the Trunk (as I from thee)
On the bare Mountains left its Parent Tree;
This Sceptre, form’d by temper’d Steel to prove
An Ensign of the Delegates of Jove,
From whom the Pow’r of Laws and Justice springs:
(Tremendous Oath! inviolate to Kings)
By this I swear, when bleeding Greece again
Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain.
When flush’d with Slaughter, Hector comes, to spread
The purpled Shore with Mountains of the Dead,
Then shalt thou mourn th’ Affront thy Madness gave,
Forc’d to deplore, when impotent to save:
Then rage in Bitterness of Soul, to know
This Act has made the bravest Greek thy Foe.
He spoke; and furious, hurl’d against the Ground
His Sceptre starr’d with golden Studs around.
Then sternly silent sate: With like Disdain,
The raging King return’d his Frowns again.
To calm their Passion with the Words of Age,
Slow from his Seat arose the Pylian Sage;
Th’ experienc’d Nestor, in Persuasion skill’d,
Words, sweet as Honey, from his Lips distill’d:
Two Generations now had past away,
Wise by his Rules, and happy by his Sway;
Two Ages o’er his native Realm he reign’d,
And now th’ Example of the third remain’d.
All view’d with Awe the Venerable Man;
Who thus, with mild Benevolence, began;
What Shame, what Woe is this to Greece! what Joy
To Troy’s proud Monarch, and the Friends of Troy!
That adverse Gods commit to stern Debate
The best, the bravest of the Grecian State.
Young as you are, this youthful Heat restrain,
Nor think your Nestor’s Years and Wisdom vain.
A Godlike Race of Heroes once I knew,
Such, as no more these aged Eyes shall view!
Lives there a Chief to match Pirithous’ Fame,
Dryas the bold, or Ceneus’ deathless Name.
Theseus, endu’d with more than mortal Might,
Or Polyphemus, like the Gods in Fight?
350With these of old to Toils of Battel bred,
In early Youth my hardy Days I led;
Fir’d with the Thirst which Virtuous Envy breeds,
And smit with Love of Honourable Deeds.
Strongest of Men, they pierc’d the Mountain Boar,
Rang’d the wild Desarts red with Monsters Gore,
And from their Hills the shaggy Centaurs tore.
Yet these with soft, persuasive Arts I sway’d,
When Nestor spoke, they listen’d and obey’d.
If, in my Youth, ev’n these esteem’d me wise,
Do you, young Warriors, hear my Age advise.
Atrides, seize not on the beauteous Slave;
That Prize the Greeks by common Suffrage gave:
Nor, thou, Achilles, treat our Prince with Pride;
Let Kings be just, and Sov’reign Pow’r preside.
Thee, the first Honours of the War adorn,
Like Gods in Strength, and of a Goddess born;
Him awful Majesty exalts above
The Pow’rs of Earth, and sceptred Sons of Jove.
Let both unite, with well-consenting Mind,
So shall Authority with Strength be join’d.
Leave me, O King! to calm Achilles’ Rage;
Rule thou thy self, as more advanc’d in Age.
Forbid it Gods! Achilles should be lost,
The Pride of Greece, and Bulwark of our Host.
This said, he ceas’d: The King of Men replies;
Thy Years are awful, and thy Words are wise.
But that imperious, that unconquer’d Soul,
No Laws can limit, no Respect controul.
Before his Pride must his Superiors fall,
His Word the Law, and He the Lord of all?
Him must our Hosts, our Chiefs, our Self obey?
What King can bear a Rival in his Sway?
Grant that the Gods his matchless Force have giv’n;
Has foul Reproach a Privilege from Heav’n?
Here on the Monarch’s Speech Achilles broke,
And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke.
Tyrant, I well deserv’d thy galling Chain,
To live thy Slave, and still to serve in vain,
Should I submit to each unjust Decree:
Command thy Vassals, but command not Me.
Seize on Briseïs, whom the Grecians doom’d
My Prize of War, yet tamely see resum’d;
And seize secure; No more Achilles draws
His conqu’ring Sword in any Woman’s Cause.
The Gods command me to forgive the past;
But let this first Invasion be the last:
For know, thy Blood, when next thou dar’st invade,
Shall stream in Vengeance on my reeking Blade.
At this, they ceas’d; the stern Debate expir’d:
400The Chiefs in sullen Majesty retir’d.
Achilles with Patroclus took his Way.
Where near his Tents his hollow Vessels lay.
Mean time Atrides launch’d with num’rous Oars
A well-rigg’d Ship for Chrysa’s sacred Shores:
High on the Deck was fair Chruseis plac’d,
And sage Ulysses with the Conduct grac’d:
Safe in her Sides the Hecatomb they stow’d,
Then swiftly sailing, cut the liquid Road.
The Host to expiate next the King prepares,
With pure Lustrations, and with solemn Pray’rs.
Wash’d by the briny Wave, the pious Train
Are cleans’d, and cast th’ Ablutions in the Main.
Along the Shore whole Hecatombs were laid,
And Bulls and Goats to Phoebus’ Altars paid.
The sable Fumes in curling Spires arise,
And waft their grateful Odours to the Skies.
The Army thus in sacred Rites engag’d,
Atrides still with deep Resentment rag’d.
To wait his Will two sacred Heralds stood,
Talthybius and Eurybates the good.
Haste to the fierce Achilles’ Tent (he cries)
Thence bear Briseïs as our Royal Prize:
Submit he must; or if they will not part,
Ourself in Arms shall tear her from his Heart.
Th’ unwilling Heralds act their Lord’s Commands;
Pensive they walk along the barren Sands:
Arriv’d, the Heroe in his Tent they find,
With gloomy Aspect, on his Arm reclin’d.
At awful Distance long they silent stand,
Loth to advance, or speak their hard Command;
Decent Confusion! This the Godlike Man
Perceiv’d, and thus with Accent mild began.
With Leave and Honour enter our Abodes,
Ye sacred Ministers of Men and Gods!
I know your Message; by Constraint you came;
Not you, but your Imperious Lord I blame.
Patroclus haste, the fair Briseïs bring;
Conduct my Captive to the haughty King.
But witness, Heralds, and proclaim my Vow,
Witness to Gods above, and Men below!
But first, and loudest, to your Prince declare,
That lawless Tyrant whose Commands you bear;
Unmov’d as Death Achilles shall remain,
Tho’ prostrate Greece should bleed at ev’ry Vein:
The raging Chief in frantick Passion lost,
Blind to himself, and useless to his Host,
Unskill’d to judge the Future by the Past,
In Blood and Slaughter shall repent at last.
Patroclus now th’ unwilling Beauty brought;
450She, in soft Sorrows, and in pensive Thought,
Supported by the Chiefs on either Hand,
In Silence past along the winding Strand.
Not so his Loss the fierce Achilles bore;
But sad retiring to the sounding Shore,
O’er the wild Margin of the Deep he hung,
That kindred Deep, from whence his Mother sprung.
There, bath’d in Tears of Anger and Disdain,
Thus loud lamented to the stormy Main.
O Parent Goddess! since in early Bloom
Thy Son must fall, by too severe a Doom;
Sure, to so short a Race of Glory born,
Great Jove in Justice should this Span adorn:
Honour and Fame at least the Thund’rer ow’d,
And ill he pays the Promise of a God;
If yon proud Monarch thus thy Son defies,
Obscures my Glories, and resumes my Prize.
Far in the deep Recesses of the Main,
Where aged Ocean holds his wat’ry Reign,
The Goddess-Mother heard. The Waves divide;
And like a Mist she rose above the Tide;
Beheld him mourning on the naked Shores,
And thus the Sorrows of his Soul explores.
Why grieves my Son? Thy Anguish let me share,
Reveal the Cause, and trust a Parent’s Care.
He deeply sighing said: To tell my Woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know.
From Thebe sacred to Apollo’s Name,
( Aetion’s Realm) our conqu’ring Army came,
With Treasure loaded and triumphant Spoils,
Whose just Division crown’d the Soldier’s Toils;
But bright Chruseïs, heav’nly Prize! was led
By Vote selected, to the Gen’ral’s Bed.
The Priest of Phoebus sought by Gifts to gain
His beauteous Daughter from the Victor’s Chain;
The Fleet he reach’d, and lowly bending down,
Held forth the Sceptre and the Laurel Crown,
Entreating All: but chief implor’d for Grace
The Brother Kings of Atreus’ Royal Race:
The gen’rous Greeks their joint Consent declare,
The Priest to rev’rence, and release the Fair;
Not so Atrides: He, with wonted Pride,
The Sire insulted, and his Gifts deny’d:
Th’ insulted Sire (his God’s peculiar Care)
To Phoebus pray’d, and Phoebus heard the Pray’r:
A dreadful Plague ensues; Th’ avenging Darts
Incessant fly, and pierce the Grecian Hearts:
A Prophet then, inspir’d by Heav’n arose,
And points the Crime, and thence derives the Woes:
My self the first th’ assembl’d Chiefs incline
500T’avert the Vengeance of the Pow’r Divine;
Then rising in his Wrath, the Monarch storm’d;
Incens’d he threaten’d, and his Threats perform’d:
The fair Chruseïs to her Sire was sent,
With offer’d Gifts to make the God relent;
But now He seiz’d Briseïs’ heav’nly Charms,
And of my Valour’s Prize defrauds my Arms,
Defrauds the Votes of all the Grecian Train;
And Service, Faith, and Justice plead in vain.
But Goddess! thou, thy suppliant Son attend,
To high Olympus’ shining Court ascend,
Urge all the Ties to former Service ow’d,
And sue for Vengeance to the Thund’ring God.
Oft hast thou triumph’d in the glorious Boast,
That thou stood’st forth, of all th’Aethereal Host,
When bold Rebellion shook the Realms above,
The undaunted Guard of Cloud-compelling Jove.
When the bright Partner of his awful Reign,
The Warlike Maid, and Monarch of the Main,
The Traytor-Gods, by mad Ambition driv’n,
Durst threat with Chains th’ Omnipotence of Heav’n.
Then call’d by thee: the Monster Titan came,
(Whom Gods Briareus, Men Aegeon name)
Thro’ wondring Skies enormous stalk’d along;
Not He that shakes the solid Earth so strong:
With Giant-Pride at Jove’s high Throne he stands,
And brandish’d round him all his Hundred Hands;
Th’ affrighted Gods confess’d their awful Lord,
They dropt the Fetters, trembled and ador’d.
This, Goddess, this to his Remembrance call,
Embrace his Knees, at his Tribunal fall;
Conjure him far to drive the Grecian Train,
To hurl them headlong to their Fleet and Main,
To heap the Shores with copious Death, and bring
The Greeks to know the Curse of such a King:
Let Agamemnon lift his haughty Head
O’er all his wide Dominion of the Dead,
And mourn in Blood, that e’er he durst disgrace
The boldest Warrior of the Grecian Race.
Unhappy Son! (fair Thetis thus replies,
While Tears Celestial trickled from her Eyes)
Why have I born thee with a Mother’s Throes,
To Fates averse, and nurs’d for future Woes?
So short a Space the Light of Heav’n to view!
So short a Space, and fill’d with Sorrow too!
Oh might a Parent’s careful Wish prevail,
Far, far from Ilion should thy Vessels sail,
And thou, from Camps remote, the Danger shun,
Which now, alas! too nearly threats my Son.
Yet (what I can) to move thy Suit I’ll go,
550To great Olympus crown’d with fleecy Snow.
Mean time, secure within thy Ships from far
Behold the Field, nor mingle in the War.
The Sire of Gods, and all th’ Etherial Train,
On the warm Limits of the farthest Main,
Now mix with Mortals, nor disdain to grace
The Feasts of Aethiopia’s blameless Race:
Twelve Days the Pow’rs indulge the Genial Rite,
Returning with the twelfth revolving Light.
Then will I mount the Brazen Dome, and move
The high Tribunal of Immortal Jove.
The Goddess spoke: The rowling Waves unclose;
Then down the Deep she plung’d from whence she rose,
And left him sorrowing on the lonely Coast,
In wild Resentment for the Fair he lost.
In Chrysa’s Port now sage Ulysses rode;
Beneath the Deck the destin’d Victims stow’d:
The Sails they furl’d, they lash’d the Mast aside,
And dropt their Anchors, and the Pinnace ty’d.
Next on the Shore their Hecatomb they land,
Chruseïs last descending on the Strand.
Her, thus returning from the furrow’d Main,
Ulysses led to Phoebus sacred Fane;
Where at his solemn Altar, as the Maid
He gave to Chryses, thus the Heroe said.
Hail Rev’rend Priest! to Phoebus’ awful Dome
A Suppliant I from great Atrides come:
Unransom’d here receive the spotless Fair;
Accept the Hecatomb the Greeks prepare;
And may thy God who scatters Darts around,
Aton’d by Sacrifice, desist to wound.
At this, the Sire embrac’d the Maid again,
So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.
Then near the Altar of the darting King,
Dispos’d in Rank their Hecatomb they bring:
With Water purify their Hands, and take
The sacred Off’ring of the salted Cake;
While thus with Arms devoutly rais’d in Air,
And solemn Voice, the Priest directs his Pray’r.
God of the Silver Bow, thy Ear incline,
Whose Power encircles Cilla the Divine,
Whose sacred Eye thy Tenedos surveys,
And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguish’d Rays!
If, fir’d to Vengeance at thy Priests request,
Thy direful Darts inflict the raging Pest;
Once more attend! avert the wastful Woe,
And smile propitious, and unbend thy Bow.
So Chryses pray’d, Apollo heard his Pray’r:
And now the Greeks their Hecatomb prepare;
Between their Horns the salted Barley threw,
600And with their Heads to Heav’n the Victims slew:
The Limbs they sever from th’ inclosing Hide;
The Thighs, selected to the Gods, divide:
On these, in double Cawls involv’d with Art,
The choicest Morsels lay from ev’ry Part.
The Priest himself before his Altar stands,
And burns the Victims with his holy Hands,
Pours the black Wine, and sees the Flames aspire;
The Youth with Instruments surround the Fire:
The Thighs thus sacrific’d, and Entrails drest,
Th’Assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest:
Then spread the Tables, the Repast prepare,
Each takes his Seat, and each receives his Share.
When now the Rage of Hunger was represt,
With pure Libations they conclude the Feast;
The Youths with Wine the copious Goblets crown’d,
And pleas’d, dispense the flowing Bowls around.
With Hymns Divine the joyous Banquet ends,
The Paeans lengthen’d ’till the Sun descends:
The Greeks restor’d the grateful Notes prolong;
Apollo listens, and approves the Song.
’Twas Night: the Chiefs beside their Vessel lie,
’Till rosie Morn had purpled o’er the Sky:
Then launch, and hoise the Mast; Indulgent Gales
Supply’d by Phoebus, fill the swelling Sails;
The milk-white Canvas bellying as they blow;
The parted Ocean foams and roars below:
Above the bounding Billows swift they flew,
’Till now the Grecian Camp appear’d in view.
Far on the Beach they haul their Bark to Land,
(The crooked Keel divides the yellow Sand)
Then part, where stretch’d along the winding Bay
The Ships and Tents in mingled Prospect lay.
But raging still amidst his Navy sate
The stern Achilles, stedfast in his Hate;
Nor mix’d in Combate, nor in Council join’d,
But wasting Cares lay heavy on his Mind:
In his black Thoughts Revenge and Slaughter roll,
And Scenes of Blood rise dreadful in his Soul.
Twelve Days were past, and now the dawning Light
The Gods had summon’d to th’ Olympian Height.
Jove first ascending from the Wat’ry Bow’rs,
Leads the long Order of Aetherial Pow’rs.
When like a Morning Mist, in early Day,
Rose from the Flood the Daughter of the Sea;
And to the Seats Divine her Flight addrest.
There, far apart, and high above the rest,
The Thund’rer sate; where old Olympus shrouds
His hundred Heads in Heav’n, and props the Clouds.
Suppliant the Goddess stood: One Hand she plac’d
650Beneath his Beard, and one his Knees embrac’d.
If e’er, O Father of the Gods! she said,
My Words cou’d please thee, or my Actions aid;
Some Marks of Honour on my Son bestow,
And pay in Glory what in Life you owe.
Fame is at least by Heav’nly Promise due
To Life so short, and now dishonour’d too.
Avenge this Wrong, oh ever just and wise!
Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise;
’Till the proud King, and all th’ Achaian Race
Shall heap with Honours him they now disgrace.
Thus Thetis spoke, but Jove in Silence held
The facred Counsels of his Breast conceal’d.
Not so repuls’d, the Goddess closer prest,
Still grasp’d his Knees, and urg’d the dear Request.
O Sire of Gods and Men! thy Suppliant hear,
Refuse, or grant; for what has Jove to fear?
Or oh declare, of all the Pow’rs above
Is wretched Thetis least the Care of Jove?
She said, and sighing thus the God replies
Who rolls the Thunder o’er the vaulted Skies.
What hast thou ask’d? Ah why should Jove engage
In foreign Contests, and domestic Rage,
The Gods Complaints, and Juno’s fierce Alarms,
While I, too partial, aid the Trojan Arms?
Go, lest the haughty Partner of my Sway
With jealous Eyes thy close Access survey;
But part in Peace, secure thy Pray’r is sped:
Witness the sacred Honours of our Head,
The Nod that ratifies the Will Divine,
The faithful, fix’d, irrevocable Sign;
This seals thy Suit, and this fulfills thy Vows—
He spoke, and awful, bends his sable Brows;
Shakes his Ambrosial Curls, and gives the Nod;
The Stamp of Fate, and Sanction of the God:
High Heav’n with trembling the dread Signal took,
And all Olympus to the Centre shook.
Swift to the Seas profound the Goddess flies,
Jove to his starry Mansion in the Skies.
The shining Synod of th’ Immortals wait
The coming God, and from their Thrones of State
Arising silent, wrapt in Holy Fear,
Before the Majesty of Heav’n appear.
Trembling they stand, while Jove assumes the Throne,
All, but the God’s Imperious Queen alone:
Late had she view’d the Silver-footed Dame,
And all her Passions kindled into Flame.
Say, artful Manager of Heav’n (she cries)
Who now partakes the Secrets of the Skies?
Thy Juno knows not the Decrees of Fate,
700In vain the Partner of Imperial State.
What fav’rite Goddess then those Cares divides,
Which Jove in Prudence from his Consort hides?
To this the Thund’rer: Seek not thou to find
The sacred Counsels of Almighty Mind:
Involv’d in Darkness lies the great Decree,
Nor can the Depths of Fate be pierc’d by thee.
What fits thy Knowledge, thou the first shalt know;
The first of Gods above and Men below:
But thou, nor they, shall search the Thoughts that roll
Deep in the close Recesses of my Soul.
Full on the Sire the Goddess of the Skies
Roll’d the large Orbs of her majestic Eyes,
And thus return’d. Austere Saturnius, say,
From whence this Wrath, or who controuls thy Sway?
Thy boundless Will, for me, remains in Force,
And all thy Counsels take the destin’d Course.
But ’tis for Greece I fear: For late was seen
In close Consult, the Silver-footed Queen.
Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny,
Nor was the Signal vain that shook the Sky.
What fatal Favour has the Goddess won,
To grace her fierce, inexorable Son?
Perhaps in Grecian Blood to drench the Plain,
And glut his Vengeance with my People slain.
Then thus the God: Oh restless Fate of Pride,
That strives to learn what Heav’n resolves to hide;
Vain is the Search, presumptuous and abhorr’d,
Anxious to thee, and odious to thy Lord.
Let this suffice; th’ immutable Decree
No Force can shake: What is, that ought to be.
Goddess submit, nor dare our Will withstand,
But dread the Pow’r of this avenging Hand;
Th’ united Strength of all the Gods above
In vain resists th’ Omnipotence of Jove.
The Thund’rer spoke, nor durst the Queen reply;
A rev’rend Horror silenc’d all the Sky.
The Feast disturb’d with Sorrow Vulcan saw,
His Mother menac’d, and the Gods in Awe;
Peace at his Heart, and Pleasure his Design,
Thus interpos’d the Architect Divine.
The wretched Quarrels of the mortal State
Are far unworthy, Gods! of your Debate:
Let Men their Days in senseless Strife employ,
We, in eternal Peace and constant Joy.
Thou, Goddess-Mother, with our Sire comply,
Nor break the sacred Union of the Sky:
Lest, rouz’d to Rage, he shake the blest Abodes,
Launch the red Lightning, and dethrone the Gods.
If you submit, the Thund’rer stands appeas’d;
750The gracious Pow’r is willing to be pleas’d.
Thus Vulcan spoke; and rising with a Bound,
The double Bowl with sparkling Nectar crown’d,
Which held to Juno in a chearful way,
Goddess (he cry’d) be patient and obey.
Dear as you are, if Jove his Arm extend,
I can but grieve, unable to defend.
What God so daring in your Aid to move,
Or lift his Hand against the Force of Jove?
Once in your Cause I felt his matchless Might,
Hurl’d headlong downward from th’ Etherial Height;
Tost all the Day in rapid Circles round;
Nor ’till the Sun descended, touch’d the Ground:
Breathless I fell, in giddy Motion lost;
The Sinthians rais’d me on the Lemnian Coast.
He said, and to her Hands the Goblet heav’d,
Which, with a Smile, the white-arm’d Queen receiv’d.
Then to the rest he fill’d; and, in his Turn,
Each to his Lips apply’d the nectar’d Urn.
Vulcan with awkward Grace his Office plies,
And unextinguish’d Laughter shakes the Skies.
Thus the blest Gods the Genial Day prolong,
In Feasts Ambrosial, and Celestial Song.
Apollo tun’d the Lyre; the Muses round
With Voice alternate aid the silver Sound.
Meantime the radiant Sun, to mortal Sight
Descending swift, roll’d down the rapid Light.
Then to their starry Domes the Gods depart,
The shining Monuments of Vulcan’s Art:
Jove on his Couch reclin’d his awful Head,
And Juno slumber’d on the golden Bed.
Observations on the 1st Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
- Note LVIII.
- Note LIX.
- Note I.
Note I.
THE Plan of this Poem is form’d upon Anger and its ill Effects, the Plan of Virgil’s upon pious Resignation and its Rewards: and thus every Passion or Virtue may be the Foundation of the Scheme of an Epic Poem. This Distinction between two Authors who have been so successful, seem’d necessary to be taken notice of, that they who would imitate either may not stumble at the very Entrance, or curb their Imaginations so as to deprive us of noble Morals told in a new Variety of Accidents. Imitation does not hinder Invention: We may observe the Rules of Nature, and write in the Spirit of those who have best hit upon them, without taking the same Track, beginning in the same Manner, and following the Main of their Story almost step by step; as most of the modern Writers of Epic Poetry have done after one of these great Poets.
Note II.
VERSE 1.] Quintilian has told us, that from the beginning of Homer’s two Poems the Rules of all Exordiums were deriv’d.
" In paucissimis versibus utriusque operis ingressu, legem Prooemiorum non dico servavit, sed constituit. "
Yet Rapin has been very free with this Invocation, in his Comparison between Homer and Virgil; which is by no means the most judicious of his Works. He cavils first at the Poet’s insisting so much upon the Effects of Achilles’s Anger, That it was
"the Cause of the Woes of the Greeks, "
that it
"sent so many Heroes to the Shades,"
that
"their Bodies were left a Prey to Birds and Beasts,"
the first of which he thinks had been sufficient. One may answer, that the Woes of Greece might consist in several other things than in the Death of her Heroes, which was therefore needful to be specify’d: As to the Bodies, he might have reflected how great a Curse the want of Burial was accounted by the Ancients, and how prejudicial it was esteem’d even to the Souls of the deceas’d: We have a most particular Example of the Strength of this Opinion from the Conduct of Sophocles in his Ajax; who thought this very Point sufficient to make the Distress of the last Act of that Tragedy after the Death of his Heroe, purely to satisfy the Audience that he obtain’d the Rites of Sepulture. Next he objects it as preposterous in Homer to desire the Muse to tell him the whole Story, and at the same time to inform her solemnly in his own Person that ’twas the Will of Jove which brought it about. But is a Poet then to be imagin’d intirely ignorant of his Subject, tho’ he invokes the Muse to relate the Particulars? May not Homer be allow’d the Knowledge of so plain a Truth, as that the Will of God is fulfill’d in all things? Nor does his Manner of saying this infer that he informs the Muse of it, but only corresponds with the usual way of desiring Information from another concerning any thing, and at the same time mentioning that little we know of it in general. What is there more in this Passage?
"Sing, O Goddess, that Wrath of Achilles, which prov’d so pernicious to the Greeks: We only know the Effects of it, that it sent innumerable brave Men to the Shades, and that it was Jove’s Will it should be so. But tell me, O Muse, what was the Source of this destructive Anger?"
I can’t apprehend what Rapin means by saying, it is hard to know where this Invocation ends, and that it is confounded with the Narration, which so manifestly begins at [Greek]. But upon the whole, methinks the French Criticks play double with us, when they sometimes represent the Rules of Poetry to be form’d upon the Practice of Homer, and at other times arraign their Master as if he transgress’d them. Horace has said the Exordium of an Epic Poem ought to be plain and modest, and instances Homer’s as such; and Rapin from this very Rule will be trying Homer and judging it otherwise (for he criticises also upon the beginning of the Odysses ) But for a full Answer we may bring the Words of Quintilian (whom Rapin himself allows to be the best of Criticks) concerning these Propositions and Invocations of our Author.
" Benevolum Auditorem invocatione dearum quas praesidere vatibus creditum est, intentum propositâ rerum magnitudine, & docilem summā celeriter comprehensâ, facit. "
Note III.
VERSE 1.] [Greek]
Plutarch observes there is a Defect in the Measure of this first Line (I suppose he means in the Eta’s of the Patronymick.) This he thinks the fiery Vein of Homer making haste to his Subject, past over with a bold Neglect, being conscious of his own Power and Perfection in the greater Parts; as some (says he) who make Virtue their sole Aim, pass by Censure in smaller Matters. But perhaps we may find no occasion to suppose this a Neglect in him, if we consider that the word Pelides, had he made use of it without so many Alterations as he has put it to in [Greek], would still have been true to the Rules of Measure. Make but a Diphthong of the second Eta and the Iota, instead of their being two Syllables (perhaps by the fault of Transcribers) and the Objection is gone. Or perhaps it might be design’d that the Verse in which he professes to sing of violent Anger should run off in the Rapidity of Dactyles. This Art he is allow’d to have us’d in other Places, and Virgil has been particularly celebrated for it.
Note IV.
VERSE 8. Will of Jove. ]
Plutarch in his Treatise of reading Poets, interprets [Greek]in this Place to signify Fate, not imagining it consistent with the Goodness of the supreme Being, or Jupiter, to contrive or practise any Evil against Men. Eustathius makes [ Will ] here to refer to the Promise which Jupiter gave to Thetis, that he would honour her Son by siding with Troy while he should be absent. But to reconcile these two Opinions, perhaps the Meaning may be that when Fate had decreed the Destruction of Troy, Jupiter having the Power of Incidents to bring it to pass, fulfill’d that Decree by providing Means for it. So that the Words may thus specify the Time of Action, from the beginning of the Poem, in which those Incidents work’d, ’till the Promise to Thetis was fulfil’d, and the Destruction of Troy ascertain’d to the Greeks by the Death of Hector. However it is certain that this Poet was not an absolute Fatalist, but still suppos’d the Power of Jove superior: For in the sixteenth Iliad we see him designing to save Sarpedon tho’ the Fates had decreed his Death, if Juno had not interposed. Neither does he exclude Free-will in Men; for as he attributes the Destruction of the Heroes to the Will of Jove in the beginning of the Iliad, so he attributes the Destruction of Ulysses’s Friends to their own Folly in the beginning of the Odysses,
[Greek]
Note V.
VERSE 9. Declare, O Muse. ]
It may be question’d whether the first Period ends at [Greek], and the Interrogation to the Muse begins with [Greek]—Or whether the Period does not end ’till the words, [Greek], with only a single Interrogation at [Greek]—? I should be inclin’d to favour the former, and think it a double Interrogative, as Milton seems to have done in his Imitation of this Place at the beginning of Paradise Lost.
—Say first what Cause Mov’d our grand Parents? &c.
And just after,
Who first seduc’d them to that foul Revolt?
Besides that I think the Proposition concludes more nobly with the Sentence Such was the Will of Jove. But the latter being follow’d by most Editions, and by all the Translations I have seen in any Language, the general Acceptation is here comply’d with, only transposing the Line to keep the Sentence last: And the next Verses are so turn’d as to include the double Interrogation, and at the same time do justice to another Interpretation of the Words [Greek], Ex quo tempore; which marks the Date of the Quarrel from whence the Poem takes its Rise. Chapman would have Ex quo understood of Jupiter, from whom the Debate was suggested; but this clashes with the Line immediately following, where he asks What God inspir’d the Contention? and answers, It was Apollo.
Note VI.
VERSE 11. Latona ’s Son. ]
Here the Author who first invok’d the Muse as the Goddess of Memory, vanishes from the Reader’s view, and leaves her to relate the whole Affair through the Poem, whose Presence from this time diffuses an Air of Majesty over the Relation. And lest this should be lost to our Thoughts by the Continuation of the Story, he sometimes refreshes them with a new Invocation at proper Intervals. Eustathius.
Note VII.
VERSE 20. The Sceptre and the Laurel Crown. ]
There is something exceedingly venerable in this Appearance of the Priest to command Attention. He comes with the Ensigns of the God he belong’d to; the Laurel Crown, now carry’d in his Hand to show he was a Suppliant; and a golden Sceptre which the Ancients gave in particular to Apollo, as they did a silver one to the Moon, and other sorts to other Planets. Eustathius.
Note VIII.
VERSE 23. Ye Kings and Warriors. ]
The Art of this Speech is remarkable. Chryses considers the Constitution of the Greeks before Troy, as made up of Troops partly from Kingdoms and partly from Democracies: Wherefore he begins with a distinction which comprehends all. After this, as Apollo’s Priest, he prays that they may obtain the two Blessings they had most in view, the Conquest of Troy, and a safe Return. Then as he names his Petition, he offers an extraordinary Ransom, and concludes with bidding them fear the God if they refuse it; like one who from his Office seems to foresee their Misery and exhorts them to shun it. Thus he endeavours to work by the Art of a general Application, by Religion, by Interest, and the Insinuation of Danger. This is the Substance of what Eustathius remarks on this Place; and in pursuance to his last Observation, the Epithet Avenging is added to this Version, that it may appear the Priest foretells the Anger of his God.
Note IX.
VERSE 33. He with Pride repuls’d. ]
It has been remark’d in Honour of Homer’s Judgment, and the Care he took of his Reader’s Morals, that where he speaks of evil Actions committed, or hard Words given, he generally characterises them as such by a previous Expression. This Passage is given as one Instance of it, where he says the Repulse of Chryses was a proud injurious Action in Agamemnon: And it may be remark’d that before his Heroes fall on one another with hard Language, in this Book, he still takes care to let us know they were under a Distraction of Anger. Plutarch of reading Poets.
Note X.
VERSE 41. ’Till Time shall rifle ev’ry youthful Grace, And Age dismiss her from my cold Embrace, In daily Labours of the Loom employ’d, Or doom’d to deck the Bed she once enjoy’d. ]
The Greek is [Greek], which signifies either making the Bed, or partaking it. Eustathius and Madam Dacier insist very much upon its being taken in the former Sense only, for fear of presenting a loose Idea to the Reader, and of offending against the Modesty of the Muse who is suppos’d to relate the Poem. This Observation may very well become a Bishop and a Lady: But that Agamemnon was not studying here for Civility of Expression, appears from the whole Tenour of his Speech; and that he design’d Chryseis for more than a Servant-Maid may be seen from some other things he says of her, as that he preferr’d her to his Queen Clytemnestra, &c. The Impudence of which Confession Madam Dacier herself has elsewhere animadverted upon. Mr. Dryden in his Translation of this Book, has been juster to the Royal Passion of Agamemnon; tho’ he has carry’d the Point so much on the other side, as to make him promise a greater Fondness for her in her old Age than in her Youth, which indeed is hardly credible.
Mine she shall be, ’till creeping Age and Time Her Bloom have wither’d and destroy’d her Prime; ’Till then my nuptial Bed she shall attend, And having first adorn’d it, late ascend. This for the Night; by Day the Web and Loom, And homely Houshold-Tasks shall be her Doom.
Nothing could have made Mr. Dryden capable of this Mistake but extreme haste in Writing; which never ought to be imputed as a Fault to him, but to those who suffer’d so noble a Genius to lie under the necessity of it.
Note XI.
VERSE 47. The trembling Priest. ]
We may take notice here, once for all, that Homer is frequently Eloquent in his very Silence. Chryses says not a word in answer to the Insults of Agamemnon, but walks pensive along the Shore, and the melancholy Flowing of the Verse admirably expresses the Condition of the mournful and deserted Father.
[Greek]
Note XII.
VERSE 61. The fav’ring God attends. ]
Upon this first Prayer in the Poem Eustathius takes occasion to observe, that the Poet is careful throughout his whole Work to let no Prayer ever fall entirely which has Justice on its side; but he who prays either kills his Enemy, or has Signs given him that he has been heard, or his Friends return, or his Undertaking succeeds, or some other visible Good happens. So far instructive and useful to Life has Homer made his Fable.
Note XIII.
VERSE 67. He bent his deadly Bow. ]
In the tenth Year of the Siege of Troy a Plague happen’d in the Grecian Camp, occasion’d perhaps by immoderate Heats and gross Exhalations. At the Introduction of this Accident Homer begins his Poem, and takes occasion from it to open the Scene of Action with a most beautiful Allegory. He supposes that such Afflictions are sent from Heaven for the Punishment of our evil Actions, and because the Sun whom the Heathens worship’d was a principal Instrument of it, he says it was sent to punish Agamemnon for despising that God and injuring his Priest. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 69. Mules and Dogs. ]
Hippocrates observes two things of Plagues; that their Cause is in the Air, and that different Animals are differently touch’d by them according to their Nature or Nourishment. This Philosophy Spondanus refers to the Plague here mention’d. First, the Cause is in the Air, by reason of the Darts or Beams of Apollo. Secondly, the Mules and Dogs are said to die sooner than the Men; partly because they have by Nature a Quickness of Smell which makes the Infection sooner perceivable; and partly by the Nourishment they take, their feeding on the Earth with prone Heads making the Exhalation the more easy to be suck’d in with it. Thus has Hippocrates so long after Homer writ, subscrib’d to his Knowledge in the Rise and Progress of this Distemper. There have been some who have refer’d this Passage to a religious Sense, making the Death of the Mules and Dogs before the Men to point out a kind Method of Providence in punishing, whereby it sends some previous Afflictions to warn Mankind so as to make them shun the greater Evils by Repentance. This Monsieur Dacier in his Notes on Aristotles’s Art of Poetry calls a Remark perfectly fine, and agreeable to God’s Method of sending Plagues on the Aegyptians, where first Horses, Asses, &c. were smitten, and afterwards the Men themselves.
Note XV.
VERSE 74. Thetis’ God-like Son convenes a Council. ]
On the tenth Day a Council is held to enquire why the Gods were angry? We may observe with Plutarch, how justly he applies the Characters of his Persons to the Incidents; not making Agamemnon but Achilles call this Council, who of all the Kings was most capable of making Observations upon the Plague, and of foreseeing its Duration, as having been bred by Chiron to the Study of Physick. One may mention also a Remark of Eustathius in pursuance to this, that Juno’s advising him in this case might allude to his Knowledge of an evil Temperament in the Air, of which she was Goddess.
Note XVI.
VERSE 79. Why leave we not the fatal Trojan Shore, &c.]
The Artifice of this Speech (according to Dionysius of Halicarnassus in his second Discourse, [Greek]) is admirably carry’d on to open an Accusation against Agamemnon, whom Achilles suspects to be the Cause of all their Miseries. He directs himself not to the Assembly, but to Agamemnon; he names not only the Plague but the War too, as having exhausted them all, which was evidently due to his Family. He leads the Augurs he would consult, by pointing at something lately done with respect to Apollo. And while he continues within the guard of civil Expression, scattering his Insinuations, he encourages those who may have more Knowledge to speak out boldly, by letting them see there is a Party made for their Safety; which has its Effect immediately in the following Speech of Chalcas, whose demand of Protection shows upon whom the Offence is to be plac’d.
Note XVII.
VERSE 85. By mystic Dreams. ]
It does not seem that by the word [Greek]an Interpreter of Dreams is meant, for we have no hint of any preceding Dream which wants to be interpreted. We may therefore more probably refer it to such who us’d (after performing proper Rites) to lie down at some sacred Place, and expect a Dream from the Gods upon any particular Subject which they desir’d. That this was a Practice amongst them, appears from the Temples of Amphiaraus in Boeotia, and Podalirius in Apulia, where the Enquirer was oblig’d to sleep at the Altar upon the Skin of the Beast he had sacrific’d in order to obtain an Answer. It is in this manner that Latinus in Virgil’s seventh Book goes to dream in the Temple of Faunus, where we have a particular Description of the whole Custom. Strabo, Lib. 16. has spoken concerning the Temple of Jerusalem as a Place of this Nature;
"where (says he) the People either dream’d for themselves, or procur’d some good Dreamer to do it:"
By which it should seem he had read something concerning the Visions of their Prophets, as that which Samuel had when he was order’d to sleep a third time before the Ark, and upon doing so had an Account of the Destruction of Eli’s House: or that which happen’d to Solomon after having sacrific’d before the Ark at Gibeon. The same Author also has mention’d the Temple of Serapis in his seventeenth Book as a Place for receiving Oracles by Dreams.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 97. Belov’d of Jove, Achilles!]
These Appellations of Praise and Honour with which the Heroes in Homer so frequently salute each other, were agreeable to the Style of the ancient Times, as appears from several of the like Nature in the Scripture. Milton has not been wanting to give his Poem this Cast of Antiquity, throughout which our first Parents almost always accost each other with some Title that expresses a Respect to the Dignity of human Nature.
Daughter of God and Man, immortal Eve. Adam, Earth’s hallow’d Mould of God inspir’d. Offspring of Heav’n and Earth, and all Earth’s Lord. &c.
Note XIX.
VERSE 115. Not even the Chief. ]
After Achilles had brought in Chalcas by his dark Doubts concerning Agamemnon, Chalcas who perceiv’d them, and was unwilling to be the first that nam’d the King, artfully demands a Protection in such a manner, as confirms those Doubts, and extorts from him that warm and particular Expression
"that he would protect him even against Agamemnon, "
who, as he says, is now the greatest Man of Greece, to hint that at the Expiration of the War he should be again reduc’d to be barely King of Mycenae. This Place Plutarch takes notice of as the first in which Achilles shews his Contempt of Sovereign Authority.
Note XX.
VERSE 117. The Blameless Priest. ]
The Epithet [Greek]or blameless, is frequent in Homer, but not always us’d with so much Propriety as here. The Reader may observe that Care has not been wanting thro’ this Translation to preserve those Epithets which are peculiar to the Author, whenever they receive any Beauty from the Circumstances about them: as this of blameless manifestly does in the present Passage. It is not only apply’d to a Priest, but to one who being conscious of the Truth, prepares with an honest Boldness to discover it.
Note XXI.
VERSE 131. Augur accurst. ]
This Expression is not meerly thrown out by chance, but proves what Chalcas said of the King when he ask’d Protection; that he harbour’d Anger in his Heart. For it aims at the Prediction Chalcas had given at Aulis nine Years before, for the sacrificing his Daughter Iphigenia. Spondanus. This, and the two following Lines are in a manner Repetitions of the same thing thrice over. It is left to the Reader to consider how far it may be allow’d, or rather praised for a Beauty, when we consider with Eustathius that it is a most natural Effect of Anger to be full of Words and insisting on that which galls us. We may add, that these reiterated Expressions might be suppos’d to be thrown out one after another, according as Agamemnon is struck in the Confusion of his Passion, first by the Remembrance of one Prophecy, and then of another, which the same Man had utter’d against him.
Note XXII.
VERSE 143. Not half so dear were Clytemnestra ’s Charms. ]
Agamemnon having heard the Charge which Chalcas drew up against him in two Particulars, that he had affronted the Priest, and refus’d to restore his Daughter; he offers one Answer which gives softening Colours to both, that he lov’d her as well as his Queen Clytemnestra for her Perfections. Thus he would seem to satisfy the Father by Kindness to his Daughter, to excuse himself before the Greeks for what is past, and to make a Merit of yielding her in the following Lines, and sacrificing his Passion for their Safety.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 155. Insatiate King. ]
Here, where this Passion of Anger grows loud, it seems proper to prepare the Reader, and prevent his Mistake in the Character of Achilles, which might shock him in several Particulars following. We should know that the Poet has rather study’d Nature than Perfection in the laying down his Characters. He resolv’d to sing the Consequences of Anger; he consider’d what Virtues and Vices would conduce most to bring his Moral out of the Fable; and artfully dispos’d them in his chief Persons after the manner in which we generally find them; making the Fault which most peculiarly attends any good Quality, to reside with it. Thus he has plac’d Pride with Magnanimity in Agamemnon, and Craft with Prudence in Ulysses. And thus we must take his Achilles, not as a meer heroick dispassion’d Character, but as one compounded of Courage and Anger; one who finds himself almost invincible, and assumes an uncontroul’d Carriage upon the Self-consciousness of his Worth; whose high Strain of Honour will not suffer him to betray his Friends or fight against them, even when he thinks they have affronted him; but whose inexorable Resentment will not let him hearken to any Terms of Accommodation. These are the Lights and Shades of his Character, which Homer has heighten’d and darkned in Extreams; because on the one side Valour is the darling Quality of Epic Poetry, and on the other, Anger the particular Subject of his Poem. When Characters thus mix’d are well conducted, tho’ they be not morally beautiful quite through, they conduce more to the end, and are still poetically perfect.
Plutarch takes occasion from the Observation of this Conduct in Homer, to applaud his just Imitation of Nature and Truth, in representing Virtues and Vices intermixed in his Heroes: contrary to the Paradoxes and strange Positions of the Stoicks, who held that no Vice could consist with Virtue, nor the least Virtue with Vice. Plut. de aud. Poetis.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 169. Great as thou art, and like a God in Fight. ]
The Words in the Original are [Greek]Ulysses is soon after call’d [Greek], and others in other Places. The Phrase of Divine or God-like is not used by the Poet to signify Perfection in Men, but apply’d to considerable Persons upon account of some particular Qualification or Advantage which they were possess’d of far above the common Standard of Mankind. Thus it is ascrib’d to Achilles upon account of his great Valour, to Ulysses for his Preheminence in Wisdom, even to Paris for his exceeding Beauty, and to Clytemnestra for several fair Endowments.
Note XXV.
VERSE 172. First let the just Equivalent. ]
The Reasoning in point of Right between Achilles and Agamemnon seems to be this. Achilles pleads that Agamemnon could not seize upon any other Man’s Captive without a new Distribution, it being an Invasion of private Property. On the other hand, as Agamemnon’s Power was limited, how came it that all the Grecian Captains would submit to an illegal and arbitrary Action? I think the legal Pretence for his seizing Briseis must have been founded upon that Law, whereby the Commander in Chief had the Power of taking what part of the Prey he pleas’d for his own Use: And he being obliged to restore what he had taken, it seem’d but just that he should have a second Choice.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 213. And dar’st thou threat to snatch my Prize away, Due to the Deeds of many a dreadful Day? ]
The Anger of these two Princes was equally upon the account of Women, but yet it is observable that there is a different Air with which they are conducted. Agamemnon appears as a Lover, Achilles as a Warriour: The one speaks of Chryseis as a Beauty whom he valu’d equal to his Wife, and whose Merit was too considerable to be easily resign’d; the other treats Briseis as a Slave, whom he is concern’d to preserve in point of Honour, and as a Testimony of his Glory. Hence it is that we never hear him mention her but as his Spoil, the Reward of War, the Gift the Graecians gave him, or the like Expressions: and accordingly he yields her up, not in Grief for a Mistress whom he loses, but in Sullenness for an Injury that is done him. This Observation is Madam Dacier’s, and will often appear just as we proceed farther. Nothing is finer than the Moral exhibited to us in this Quarrel, of the Blindness and Partiality of Mankind to their own Faults: The Graecians make a War to recover a Woman that was ravish’d, and are in danger to fail in the Attempt by a Dispute about another. Agamemnon while he is revenging a Rape, commits one; and Achilles while he is in the utmost Fury himself, reproaches Agamemnon for his passionate Temper.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 225. Fly, mighty Warriour. ]
Achilles having threaten’d to leave them in the former Speech, and spoken of his Acts of War; the Poet here puts an artful Piece of Spite in the Mouth of Agamemnon, making him opprobriously brand his Retreat as a Flight, and lessen the Appearance of his Courage by calling it the Love of Contention and Slaughter.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 229. Kings, the Gods distinguish’d Care. ]
In the Original it is [Greek], or nurst by Jove. Homer often uses to call his Kings by such Epithets as [Greek]born of the Gods, or [Greek]bred by the Gods; by which he points out to themselves, the Offices they were ordain’d for; and to their People, the Reverence that should be pay’d them. These Expressions of his are perfectly in the exalted Style of the Eastern Nations, and correspondent to those Places of holy Scripture where they are call’d Gods, and the Sons of the most High.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 261. Minerva swift descended from above. ]
Homer having by degrees rais’d Achilles to such a Pitch of Fury as to make him capable of attempting Agamemnon’s Life in the Council, Pallas the Goddess of Wisdom descends, and being seen only by him, pulls him back in the very Instant of Execution. He parlies with her a while as imagining she would advise him to proceed, but upon the promise of a time wherein there should be a full Reparation of his Honour, he sheaths his Sword in Obedience to her. She ascends to Heaven, and he being left to himself, falls again upon his General with bitter Expressions. The Allegory here may be allow’d by every Reader to be unforc’d: The Prudence of Achilles checks him in the rashest Moment of his Anger, it works upon him unseen to others, but does not entirely prevail upon him to desist, ’till he remembers his own Importance, and depends upon it that there will be a necessity of their courting him at any Expence into the Alliance again. Having persuaded himself by such Reflections, he forbears to attack his General, but thinking that he sacrifices enough to Prudence by this Forbearance, lets the thought of it vanish from him, and no sooner is Wisdom gone but he falls into more violent Reproaches for the Gratification of his Passion. All this is a most beautiful Passage whose Moral is evident, and generally agreed upon by the Commentators.
Note XXX.
VERSE 268. Known by the Flames that sparkled from her Eyes. ]
They who carry on this Allegory after the most minute manner, refer this to the Eyes of Achilles, as indeed we must, if we entirely destroy the bodily Appearance of Minerva. But what Poet designing to have his Moral so open, would take pains to form it into a Fable? In the proper mythological Sense, this Passage should be referr’d to Minerva: according to an Opinion of the Ancients, who suppos’d that the Gods had a peculiar Light in their Eyes. That Homer was not ignorant of this Opinion appears from his use of it in other Places, as when in the third Iliad Helena by this means discovers Venus: and that he meant it here is particularly asserted by Heliodorus in the third Book of his Aethiopick History.
"The Gods, says he, are known in their Apparitions to Men by the fix’d Glare of their Eyes, or their gliding Passage through Air without moving the Feet; these Marks Homer has us’d from his Knowledge of the Aegyptian Learning, applying one to Pallas, and
the other to Neptune. "
Madam Dacier has gone into the contrary Opinion, and blames Eustathius and others without overthrowing these Authorities, or assigning any other Reason but that it was not proper for Minerva’s Eyes to sparkle, when her Speech was mild.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 298. Thou Dog in Forehead. ]
It has been one of the Objections against the Manners of Homer’s Heroes, that they are abusive. Mons. de la Motte affirms in his Discourse upon the Iliad, that great Men differ from the vulgar in their manner of expressing their Passion; but certainly in violent Passions (such as those of Achilles and Agamemnon ) the Great are as subject as any others to these Sallies; of which we have frequent Examples both from History and Experience. Plutarch, taking notice of this Line, gives it as a particular Commendation of Homer, that
"he constantly affords us a fine Lecture of Morality in his Reprehensions and Praises, by referring them not to the Goods of Fortune or the Body, but those of the Mind, which are in our Power, and for which we are blameable or praise-worthy. Thus, says he, Agamemnon is reproach’d for Impudence and Fear, Ajax for vain-bragging, Idomeneus for the Love of Contention, and Ulysses does not reprove even Thersites but as a Babbler, tho’ he had so many personal Deformities to object to him. In like manner also the Appellations and Epithets with which they accost one another, are generally founded on some distinguishing Qualification of Merit, as Wise Ulysses, Hector equal to Jove in Wisdom, Achilles chief Glory of the Greeks,"
and the like Plutarch of reading Poets.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 299. In ambush’d Fights to dare. ]
Homer has magnify’d the Ambush as the boldest manner of Fight. They went upon those Parties with a few Men only, and generally the most daring of the Army, on Occasions of the greatest Hazard, where they were therefore more expos’d than in a regular Battel. Thus Idomeneus in the thirteenth Book expressly tells Meriones that the greatest Courage appears in this way of Service, each Man being in a manner singled out to the Proof of it. Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 309. Now by this sacred Sceptre. ]
Spondanus in this Place blames Eustathius, for saying that Homer makes Achilles in his Passion swear by the first thing he meets with; and then assigns (as from himself) two Causes which the other had mention’d so plainly before, that it is a wonder they could be over-look’d. The Substance of the whole Passage in Eustathius is, that if we consider the Sceptre simply as Wood, Achilles after the manner of the Ancients takes in his Transport the first thing to swear by; but that Homer himself has in the Process of the Description assign’d Reasons why it is proper for the Occasion, which may be seen by considering it Symbolically. First, That as the Wood being cut from the Tree will never re-unite and flourish, so neither should their Amity ever flourish again, after they were divided by this Contention. Secondly, That a Sceptre being the mark of Power and Symbol of Justice, to swear by it might in effect be construed swearing by the God of Power, and by Justice itself; and accordingly it is spoken of by Aristotle, 3 l. Polit. as a usual solemn Oath of Kings.
I cannot leave this Passage without showing in Opposition to some Moderns who have criticiz’d upon it as tedious, that it has been esteem’d a Beauty of so fine a Nature by the Ancients as to engage them in its Imitation. Virgil has almost transcrib’d it in his 12 Aen. for the Sceptre of Latinus.
Ut sceptrum hoc (sceptrum dextrâ nam fortè gerebat) Nunquam fronde levi sundet virgulta nec umbras; Cùm semel in silvis imo de stirpe recisum, Matre caret, posuitque comas & brachia ferro: Olim arbos, nunc artificis manus aere decoro Inclusit, Patribusque dedit gestare Latinis.
But I cannot think this comes up to the Spirit or Propriety of Homer, notwithstanding the Judgment of Scaliger who decides for Virgil upon a trivial comparison of the Wording in each, l. 5. cap. 3. Poet. It fails in a greater Point than any he has mention’d, which is that being there us’d on occasion of a Peace, it has no emblematical reference to Division, and yet describes the cutting of the Wood and its Incapacity to bloom and branch again, in as many Words as Homer. It is borrow’d by Valerius Flaccus in his third Book, where he makes Jason swear as a Warriour by his Spear,
Hanc ego magnanimi spolium Didymaonis hastam, Ut semel est avulsa jugis à matre perempta, Quae neque jam frondes virides neque proferet umbras, Fida ministeria & duras obit horrida pugnas, Testor.—
And indeed, however he may here borrow some Expressions from Virgil or fall below him in others, he has nevertheless kept to Homer in the Emblem, by introducing the Oath upon Jason’s Grief for sailing to Colchis without Hercules, when he had separated himself from the Body of the Argonauts to search after Hylas. To render the Beauty of this Passage more manifest, the Allusion is inserted (but with the fewest Words possible) in this Translation.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 324. Thy Rashness made the bravest Greek thy Foe. ]
Tho’ self-praise had not been agreeable to the haughty Nature of Achilles, yet Plutarch has mention’d a Case, and with respect to him, wherein it is allowable. He says that Achilles has at other times ascrib’d his Success to Jupiter, but it is permitted to a Man of Merit and Figure who is injuriously dealt with, to speak frankly of himself to those who are forgetful and unthankful.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 333. Two Generations. ]
The Commentators make not Nestor to have liv’d three hundred Years (according to Ovid’s Opinion;) they take the word [Greek]not to signify a Century or Age of the World; but a Generation, or compass of Time in which one Set of Men flourish, which in the common Computation is thirty Years; and accordingly it is here translated as much the more probable.
From what Nestor says in this Speech, Madam Dacier computes the Age he was of, at the end of the Trojan War. The Fight of the Lapithae and Centaurs fell out fifty five or sixty Years before the War of Troy: The Quarrel of Agamemnon and Achilles happen’d in the tenth and last Year of that War. It was then fifty five or sixty five Years since Nestor fought against the Centaurs; he was capable at that time of giving Counsel, so that one cannot imagine him to have been under twenty: From whence it will appear that he was now almost arriv’d to the Conclusion of his third Age, and about fourscore and five, or fourscore and six Years of Age.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 339. What Shame. ]
The Quarrel having risen to its highest Extravagance, Nestor the wisest and most aged Greek is raised to quiet the Princes, whose Speech is therefore fram’d entirely with an opposite Air to all which has been hitherto said, sedate and inoffensive. He begins with a soft affectionate Complaint which he opposes to their Threats and haughty Language; he reconciles their Attention in an awful manner, by putting them in mind that they hear one whom their Fathers and the greatest Heroes have heard with deference. He sides with neither, that he might not anger any one, while he advises them to the proper Methods of Reconciliation; and he appears to side with both while he praises each, that they may be induc’d by the Recollection of one another’s Worth to return to that Amity which would bring Success to the Cause. It was not however consistent with the Plan of the Poem that this should entirely appease them, for then the Anger would be at an end which was propos’d to be sung through the whole. Homer has not therefore made this Speech to have its full Success; and yet that the Eloquence of his Nestor might not be thrown out of Character by its proving unavailable, he takes care that the Violence with which the Dispute was manag’d should abate immediately upon his speaking; Agamemnon confesses that all he spoke was right, Achilles promises not to fight for Briseis if she should be sent for, and the Council dissolves.
It is to be observ’d that this Character of Authority and Wisdom in Nestor, is every where admirably used by Homer, and made to exert itself thro’ all the great Emergencies of the Poem. As he quiets the Princes here, he proposes that Expedient which reduces the Army into their Order after the Sedition in the second Book. When the Greeks are in the utmost Distresses, ’tis he who advises the building the Fortification before the Fleet, which is the chief means of preserving them. And it is by his Persuasion that Patroclus puts on the Armour of Achilles, which occasions the Return of that Heroe, and the Conquest of Troy.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 394. —No more Achilles draws His conqu’ring Sword in any Woman’s Cause. ]
When Achilles promises not to contest for Briseis, he expresses it in a sharp despising Air, I will not fight for the sake of a Woman: by which he glances at Helena, and casts an oblique Reflection upon those Commanders whom he is about to leave at the Siege for her Cause. One may observe how well it is fancy’d of the Poet, to make one Woman the ground of a Quarrel which breaks an Alliance that was only form’d upon account of another: and how much the Circumstance thus consider’d contributes to keep up the Anger of Achilles, for carrying on the Poem beyond this Dissolution of the Council. For (as he himself argues with Ulysses in the 9 th Iliad ) it is as reasonable for him to retain his Anger upon the account of Briseis, as for the Brothers with all Greece to carry on a War upon the score of Helena. I do not know that any Commentator has taken notice of this Sarcasm of Achilles, which I think a very obvious one.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 413. The Ablutions. ]
All our former English Translations seem to have err’d in the Sense of this Line; the word [Greek]being differently render’d by them, Offals, or Entrails, or Purgaments, or Ordures, a gross Set of Ideas of which Homer is not guilty. The word comes from [Greek]eluo, the same Verb from whence [Greek], which precedes in the Line, is deriv’d. So that the Sense appears to be as it is render’d here [ They wash’d, and threw away their Washings.] Perhaps this Lustration might be used as a Physical Remedy in cleansing them from the Infection of the Plague: as Pausanias tells us it was by the Arcadians, from whence he says the Plague was called [Greek]by the Greeks.
Note XXXIX.
VERSEE 430. At awful distance silent. ]
There was requir’d a very remarkable Management to preserve all the Characters which are concern’d in this nice Conjuncture, wherein the Heralds were to obey at their Peril. Agamemnon was to be gratify’d by an Insult on Achilles, and Achilles was to suffer so as might become his Pride, and not have his violent Temper provok’d. From all this the Poet has found the Secret to extricate himself, by only taking care to make his Heralds stand in sight, and silent. Thus they neither make Agamemnon’s Majesty suffer by uttering their Message submissively, nor occasion a rough Treatment from Achilles by demanding Briseis in the peremptory Air he order’d; and at the same time Achilles is gratify’d with the Opportunity of giving her up, as if he rather sent her than was forc’d to relinquish her. The Art of this has been taken notice of by Eustathius.
Note XL.
VERSE 451. She in soft Sorrows. ]
The Behaviour of Briseis in her Departure is no less beautifully imagin’d than the former. A French or Italian Poet had lavish’d all his Wit and Passion in two long Speeches on this Occasion, which the Heralds must have wept to hear; instead of which Homer gives us a fine Picture of Nature. We see Briseis passing unwillingly along, with a dejected Air, melted in Tenderness, and not able to utter a word: And in the Lines immediately following, we have a Contraste to this in the gloomy Resentment of Achilles, who suddenly retires to the Shore and vents his Rage aloud to the Seas. The Variation of the Numbers just in this Place adds a great Beauty to it, which has been endeavour’d at in the Translation.
Note XLI.
VERSE 458. There bath’d in Tears. ]
Eustathius observes on this Place that it is no Weakness in Heroes to weep, but the very Effect of Humanity and Proof of a generous Temper; for which he offers several Instances, and takes notice that if Sophocles would not let Ajax weep, it is because he is drawn rather as a Madman than a Heroe. But this general Observation is not all we can offer in excuse for the Tears of Achilles: His are Tears of Anger and Disdain (as I have ventur’d to call them in the Translation) of which a great and fiery Temper is more susceptible than any other; and even in this case Homer has taken care to preserve the high Character, by making him retire to vent his Tears out of sight. And we may add to these an Observation of which Madam Dacier is fond, which is, the Reason why Agamemnon parts not in Tears from Chryseis, and Achilles should from Briseis: The one parts willingly from his Mistress, and because he does it for his People’s Safety it becomes an Honour to him: the other is parted unwillingly, and because his General takes her by force the Action reflects a Dishonour upon him.
Note XLII.
VERSE 464. The Thund’rer ow’d. ]
This alludes to a Story which Achilles tells the Embassadors of Agamemnon, Il. 9. That he had the Choice of two Fates: one less glorious at home, but blessed with a very long Life; the other full of Glory at Troy, but then he was never to return. The Alternative being thus propos’d to him (not from Jupitcr but Thetis who reveal’d the Decree) he chose the latter, which he looks upon as his due, since he gives away length of Life for it: and accordingly when he complains to his Mother of the Disgrace he lies under, it is in this manner he makes a demand of Honour.
Mons. de la Motte very judiciously observes, that but for this Fore-knowledge of the Certainty of his Death at Troy, Achilles’s Character could have drawn but little Esteem from the Reader. A Heroe of a vicious Mind, blest only with a Superiority of Strength, and invulnerable into the bargain, was not very proper to excite Admiration; but Homer by this exquisite Piece of Art has made him the greatest of Heroes, who is still pursuing Glory in contempt of Death, and even under that Certainty generously devoting himself in every Action.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 478. From Thebae.]
Homer who open’d his Poem with the Action which immediately brought on Achilles’s Anger, being now to give an Account of the same thing again, takes his Rise more backward in the Story. Thus the Reader is inform’d in what he should know, without having been delay’d from entering upon the promis’d Subject. This is the first Attempt which we see made towards the Poetical Method of Narration, which differs from the Historical in that it does not proceed always directly in the Line of Time, but sometimes relates things which have gone before when a more proper Opportunity demands it to make the Narration more informing or beautiful.
The foregoing Remark is in regard only to the first six Lines of this Speech. What follows is a Rehearsal of the preceding Action of the Poem, almost in the same Words he had used in the opening it; and is one of those Faults which has with most Justice been objected to our Author. It is not to be deny’d but the Account must be tedious, of what the Reader had been just before inform’d: and especially when we are given to understand it was no way necessary, by what Achilles says at the beginning, that Thetis knew the whole Story already. As to repeating the same Lines, a Practice usual with Homer, it is not so excusable in this Place as in those where Messages are deliver’d in the Words they were receiv’d, or the like; it being unnatural to imagine, that the Person whom the Poet introduces as actually speaking, should fall into the self-same Words that are us’d in the Narration by the Poet himself. Yet Milton was so great an Admirer and Imitator of our Author, as not to have scrupled even this kind of Repetition. The Passage is at the end of his tenth Book, where Adam having declar’d he would prostrate himself before God in certain particular Acts of Humiliation, those Acts are immediately after describ’d by the Poet in the same Words.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 514. Oft hast thou triumph’d. ]
The Persuasive which Achilles is here made to put into the Mouth of Thetis, is most artfully contriv’d to suit the present Exigency. You, says he, must intreat Jupiter to bring Miseries on the Greeks who are protected by Juno, Neptune, and Minerva: Put him therefore in mind that those Deities were once his Enemies, and adjure him by that Service you did him when those very Powers would have bound him, that he will now in his turn assist you against the Endeavours they will certainly oppose to my Wishes. Eustathius. As for the Story itself, some have thought (with whom is Madam Dacier ) that there was some imperfect Tradition of the Fall of the Angels for their Rebellion, which the Greeks had receiv’d by Commerce with Aegypt: and thus they account the Rebellion of the Gods, the Precipitation of Vulcan from Heaven; and Jove’s threatning the inferior Gods with Tartarus in Il. 8. but as so many Hints of Scripture faintly imitated. But it seems not improbable that the Wars of the Gods, described by the Poets, allude to the Confusion of the Elements before they were brought into their natural Order. It is almost generally agreed that by Jupiter is meant the Aether, and by Juno the Air. The ancient Philosophers suppos’d the Aether to be igneous, and by its kind Influence upon the Air to be the Cause of all Vegetation: Therefore Homer says in the 14 th Iliad, ℣. 346. That upon Jupiter’s embracing his Wife, the Earth put forth its Plants. Perhaps by Thetis’s assisting Jupiter, may be meant that the watry Element subsiding and taking its natural Place, put an end to this Combat of the Elements.
Note XLV.
VERSE 523. Whom Gods Briareus, Men Aegeon name. ]
This manner of making the Gods speak a Language different from Men (which is frequent in Homer ) is a Circumstance that as far as it widens the distinction between divine and human Natures, so far might tend to heighten the Reverence paid the Gods. But besides this, as the difference is thus told in Poetry, it is of use to the Poets themselves: For it appears like a kind of Testimony of their Inspiration, or their Converse with the Gods, and thereby gives a Majesty to their Works.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 554. The Sire of Gods, and all th’ Etherial Train, On the warm Limits of the farthest Main, Now mix with Mortals, nor disdain to grace The Feasts of Aethiopia ’s blameless Race. ]
The Aethiopians, says Diodorus, l. 3. are said to be the Inventors of Pomps, Sacrifices, solemn Meetings, and other Honours paid to the Gods. From hence arose their Character of Piety, which is here celebrated by Homer. Among these there was an annual Feast at Diospolis, which Eustathius mentions, wherein they carry’d about the Statues of Jupiter and the other Gods, for twelve Days, according to their Number: to which if we add the ancient Custom of setting Meat before Statues, it will appear a Rite from which this Fable might easily arise. But it would be a great Mistake to imagine from this Place, that Homer represents the Gods as eating and drinking upon Earth: a gross Notion he was never guilty of, as appears from these Verses in the fifth Book, Line 340.
[Greek]
Macrobius would have it, that by Jupiter here mention’d is meant the Sun, and that the Number Twelve hints at the twelve Signs; but whatever may be said in a critical Defence of this Opinion, I believe the Reader will be satisfy’d that Homer consider’d as a Poet would have his Machinery understood upon that System of the Gods which is properly Graecian. One may take notice here, that it were to be wish’d some Passage were found in any authentic Author that might tell us the time of the Year when the Aethiopians kept this Festival at Diospolis: For from thence one might determine the precise Season of the Year wherein the Actions of the Iliad are represented to have happen’d; and perhaps by that means farther explain the Beauty and Propriety of many Passages in the Poem.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 600. The Sacrifice. ]
If we consider this Passage, it is not made to shine in Poetry: All that can be done is to give it Numbers, and endeavour to set the Particulars in a distinct View. But if we take it in another Light, and as a Piece of Learning, it is valuable for being the most exact Account of the ancient Sacrifices any where left us. There is first the Purification, by washing of Hands. Secondly the offering up of Prayers. Thirdly the Mola, or Barley Cakes thrown upon the Victim. Fourthly the manner of killing it with the Head turn’d upwards to the celestial Gods (as they turn’d it downwards when they offer’d to the Infernals.) Fifthly their selecting the Thighs and Fat for their Gods as the best of the Sacrifice, and the disposing about them pieces cut from every part for a Representation of the whole: (Hence the Thighs, or [Greek], are frequently us’d in Homer and the Greek Poets for the whole Victim.) Sixthly the Libation of Wine. Seventhly consuming the Thighs in the Fire of the Altar. Eighthly the Sacrificers dressing and Feasting on the rest, with Joy and Hymns to the Gods. Thus punctually have the ancient Poets and in particular Homer, written with a care and respect to Religion. One may question whether any Country as much a Stranger to Christianity as we are to Heathenism, might be so well inform’d by our Poets in the Worship belonging to any Profession of Religion at present.
I am obliged to take notice how intirely Mr. Dryden has mistaken the Sense of this Passage, and the Custom of Antiquity; for in his Translation, the Cakes are thrown into the Fire instead of being cast on the Victim; the Sacrificers are made to eat the Thighs and whatever belong’d to the Gods; and no part of the Victim is consum’d for a Burnt-offering, so that in effect there is no Sacrifice at all. Some of the Mistakes (particularly that of turning the Roast-meat on the Spits, which was not known in Homer’s Days) he was led into by Chapman’s Translation.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 681. The faithful, fix’d, irrevocable Sign. ]
There are among Men three things by which the Efficacy of a Promise may be made void; the Design not to perform it, the want of Power to bring it to pass, and the Instability of our Tempers, from all which Homer saw that the Divinity must be exempted, and therefore he describes the Nod, or Ratification of Jupiter’s word, as faithful in Opposition to Fraud, sure of being perform’d in Opposition to Weakness, and irrevocable in Opposition to our repenting of a Promise. Eustathius.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 683. He spoke, and awful bends. ]
This Description of the Majesty of Jupiter has something exceedingly grand and venerable. Macrobius reports, that Phidias having made his Olympian Jupiter which past for one of the greatest Miracles of Art, he was ask’d from what Pattern he fram’d so divine a Figure, and answer’d, it was from that Archetype which he found in these Lines of Homer. The same Author has also taken notice of Virgil’s imitating it, l. 10.
Dixerat, idque ratum Stygii per flumina fratris, Per pice torrentes atraque voragine ripas; Annuit, & totum nutu tremefecit Olympum.
Here indeed he has preserv’d the Nod with its stupendous Effect, the making the Heavens tremble. But he has neglected the Description of the Eyebrows and the Hair, those chief Pieces of Imagery from whence the Artist took the Idea of a Countenance proper for the King of Gods and Men.
Thus far Macrobius, whom Scaliger answers in this manner; Aut ludunt Phidiam, aut nos ludit Phidias: Etiam sine Homero puto illum scisse, Jovem non carere superciliis & caesarie.
Note L.
VERSE 694. Jove assumes the Throne. ]
As Homer makes the first Council of his Men to be one continued Scene of Anger, whereby the Graecian Chiefs became divided, so he makes the first Meeting of the Gods to be spent in the same Passion; whereby Jupiter is more fix’d to assist the Trojans and Juno more incens’d against them. Thus the Design of the Poem goes on: the Anger which began the Book overspreads all existent Beings by the latter end of it: Heaven and Earth become engag’d in the Subject, by which it rises to a great Importance in the Reader’s Eyes, and is hasten’d forward into the briskest Scenes of Action that can be fram’d upon that violent Passion.
Note LI.
VERSE 698. Say, artful Manager. ]
The Gods and Goddesses being describ’d with all the Desires and Pleasures, the Passions and Humours of Mankind, the Commentators have taken a Licence from thence to draw not only moral Observations, but also satyrical Reflections out of this part of the Poet. These I am sorry to see fall so hard upon Womankind, and all by Juno’s means. Sometimes she procures them a Lesson for their Curiosity and Unquietness, and at other times for their loud and vexatious Tempers. Juno deserves them on the one hand, Jupiter thunders them out on the other, and the learned Gentlemen are very particular in enlarging with Remarks on both sides. In her first Speech they make the Poet describe the inquisitive Temper of Womankind in general, and their Restlesness if they are not admitted into every Secret. In his Answer to this, they trace those Methods of grave Remonstrance by which it is proper for Husbands to calm them. In her Reply, they find it is the Nature of Women to be more obstinate for being yielded to: and in his second Return to her, they see the last Method to be used with them upon failure of the first, which is the Exercise of Sovereign Authority.
Mr. Dryden has translated all this with the utmost Severity upon the Ladies, and spirited the whole with satyrical Additions of his own. But Madam Dacier (who has elsewhere animadverted upon the good Bishop of Thessalonica, for his sage Admonitions against the Fair Sex) has not taken the least notice of this general Defection from Complaisance in all the Commentators. She seems willing to give the whole Passage a more important Turn, and incline us to think that Homer design’d to represent the Folly and Danger of prying into the Secrets of Providence. ’Tis thrown into that Air in this Translation, not only as it is more noble and instructive in general, but as it is more respectful to the Ladies in particular; nor should we (any more than Madam Dacier ) have mention’d what those old Fellows have said, but to desire their Protection against some modern Criticks their Disciples, who may arraign this Proceeding.
Note LII.
VERSE 713. Roll’d the large Orbs. ]
The Greek is [Greek], which is commonly translated The venerable Oxey’d Juno. Madam Dacier very well observes that [Greek]is only an augmentative Particle, and signifies no more than valdè. It may be added, that the Imagination of Oxen having larger Eyes than ordinary is ill grounded, and has no Foundation in Truth; their Eyes are no larger in proportion than those of Men, or of most other Animals. But be it as it will, the design of the Poet which is only to express the Largeness of her Eyes, is answer’d in this Paraphrase.
Note LIII.
VERSE 741. Thus interpos’d the Architect divine. ]
This Quarrel of the Gods being come to its height, the Poet makes Vulcan interpose, who freely puts them in mind of Pleasure, inoffensively advises Juno, illustrates his Advice by an Example of his own Misfortune, turning the Jest on himself to enliven the Banquet; and concludes the Part he is to support with serving Nectar about. Homer had here his Minerva or Wisdom to interpose again, and every other Quality of the Mind resided in Heaven under the Appearance of some Deity: So that his introducing Vulcan, proceeded not from a want of Choice, but an Insight into Nature. He knew that a Friend to Mirth often diverts or stops Quarrels, especially when he contrives to submit himself to the Laugh, and prevails on the angry to part in good Humour or in a Disposition to Friendship; when grave Representations are sometimes Reproaches, sometimes lengthen the Debate by occasioning Defences, and sometimes introduce new Parties into the Consequences of it.
Note LIV.
VERSE 760. Once in your Cause I felt his matchless Might. ]
They who search another Vein of Allegory for hidden Knowledges in Natural Philosophy, have consider’d Jupiter and Juno as Heaven and the Air, whose Alliance is interrupted when the Air is troubled above, but restor’d again when it is clear’d by Heat, or Vulcan the God of Heat. Him they call a divine Artificer, from the Activity or general Use of Fire in working. They suppose him to be born in Heaven where Philosophers say that Element has its proper Place; and is thence deriv’d to the Earth which is signify’d by the Fall of Vulcan; that he fell in Lemnos, because that Island abounds with Subterranean Fires; and that he contracted a Lameness or Imperfection by the Fall; the Fire not being so pure and active below, but mix’d and terrestrial. Eustathius.
Note LVI.
VERSE 767. Which with a Smile the white-arm’d Queen receiv’d. ]
The Epithet [Greek], or white-arm’d, is used by Homer several times before in this Book. This was the first Passage where it could be introduced with any Ease or Grace, because the Action she is here describ’d in, of extending her Arm to the Cup, gives it an occasion of displaying its Beauties, and in a manner demands the Epithet.
Note LVII.
VERSE 771. Laughter shakes the Skies. ]
Vulcan design’d to move Laughter by taking upon him the Office of Hebe and Ganymede, with his aukward limping Carriage. But tho’ he prevail’d and Homer tells you the Gods did laugh, yet he takes care not to mention a word of Lameness. It would have been cruel in him and Wit out of Season, to have enlarg’d with Derision upon an Imperfection which is out of one’s Power to remedy.
According to this good-natur’d Opinion of Eustathius, Mr. Dryden has treated Vulcan a little barbarously. He makes his Character perfectly comical, he is the Jest of the Board, and the Gods are very merry upon the Imperfections of his Figure. Chapman led him into this Error in general, as well as into some Indecencies of Expression in particular, which will be seen upon comparing them.
Note LVIII.
VERSE 778. Then to their starry Domes. ]
The Astrologers assign twelve Houses to the Planets, wherein they are said to have Dominion. Now because Homer tells us Vulcan built a Mansion for every God, the Ancients write that he first gave occasion for this Doctrine.
Note LIX.
VERSE 780. Jove on his Couch reclin’d his awful Head. ]
Eustathius makes a distinction between [Greek]and [Greek]; the Words which are used at the end of this Book and the beginning of the next, with regard to Jupiter’s sleeping. He says [Greek]only means Lying down in a Disposition to sleep; which salves the Contradiction that else would follow in the next Book, where it is said Jupiter did not sleep. I only mention this to vindicate the Translation which differs from Mr. Dryden’s.
It has been remark’d by the Scholiasts, that this is the only Book of the twenty four without any Simile, a Figure in which Homer abounds every where else. The like Remark is made by Madam Dacier upon the first of the Odysses; and because the Poet has observ’d the same Conduct in both Works, it is concluded he thought a Simplicily of Style without the great Figures was proper during the first Information of the Reader. This Observation may be true, and admits of refin’d Reasonings; but for my part I cannot think the Book had been the worse, tho’ he had thrown in as many Similes as Virgil has in the first Aeneid.
Note I.
THE Plan of this Poem is form’d upon Anger and its ill Effects, the Plan of Virgil’s upon pious Resignation and its Rewards: and thus every Passion or Virtue may be the Foundation of the Scheme of an Epic Poem. This Distinction between two Authors who have been so successful, seem’d necessary to be taken notice of, that they who would imitate either may not stumble at the very Entrance, or curb their Imaginations so as to deprive us of noble Morals told in a new Variety of Accidents. Imitation does not hinder Invention: We may observe the Rules of Nature, and write in the Spirit of those who have best hit upon them, without taking the same Track, beginning in the same Manner, and following the Main of their Story almost step by step; as most of the modern Writers of Epic Poetry have done after one of these great Poets.
Book II THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
JUPITER in pursuance of the Request of Thetis, sends a deceitful Vision to Agamemnon, persuading him to lead the Army to Battel; in order to make the Greeks sensible of their want of Achilles. The General, who is deluded with the hopes of taking Troy without his Assistance, but fears the Army was discourag’d by his Absence and the late Plague, as well as by length of Time, contrives to make trial of their Disposition by a Stratagem. He first communicates his Design to the Princes in Council, that he would propose a Return to the Soldiers, and that they should put a stop to them if the Proposal was embrac’d. Then he assembles the whole Host, and upon moving for a Return to Greece, they unanimously agree to it and run to prepare the Ships. They are detain’d by the Management of Ulysses, who chastises the Insolence of Thersites. The Assembly is recall’d, several Speeches made on the occasion, and at length the Advice of Nestor follow’d, which was to make a general Muster of the Troops, and to divide them into their several Nations, before they proceeded to Battel. This gives occasion to the Poet to ennumerate all the Forces of the Greeks and Trojans, in a large Catalogue. The Time employ’d in this Book consists not intirely of one Day. The Scene lies in the Graecian Camp and upon the Sea-Shore; toward the end it removes to Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-18] Zeus wakes; plots to honour Thetis; sends a deceitful Dream
- [19-44] The Dream in Nestor’s guise deceives Agamemnon
- [45-68] Dawn; Agamemnon arms and summons the princes
- [69-99] Council plan: test the army with a feigned call to sail
- [99-120] Council dissolves; the host swarms to assembly
- [121-172] The golden sceptre; Agamemnon’s ‘go home’ speech
- [173-190] Near-rout: the Greeks rush to launch the ships
- [191-220] Hera and Athena intervene; Athena targets Odysseus
- [221-254] Odysseus restores order, princes by persuasion, rabble by blows
- [255-341] Thersites’ tirade; Odysseus silences him
- [342-401] Odysseus’ exhortation and the omen at Aulis
- [402-427] Nestor’s plan: muster by tribes and nations
- [428-469] Agamemnon’s reply: a day of total effort (Achilles absent)
- [470-501] Sacrifice and unanswered prayer
- [502-571] Second muster; Athena’s aegis fires the host
- [572-585] Invocation to the Muses to sing the forces
- [586-923] Catalogue of the Greeks (overview)
- [924-945] Who’s best today (Achilles idle): horses and man
- [946-955] The Greeks surge like storm and fire
- [956-987] Iris warns Troy; council breaks; Trojan host arms
- [988-1071] Catalogue of the Trojans & allies (overview)
- [586-609] Greek: Boeotia — Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoënor (with Arcesilaus, Clonius) — 50 ships
- [610-619] Greek: Aspledon & Orchomenus (Minyans) — Iälmenus, Ascalaphus — 30 ships
- [620-629] Greek: Phocis — Epistrophus, Schedius — 40 ships
- [630-640] Greek: Locrians (Oïlean) — Ajax the Lesser — 40 ships
- [641-654] Greek: Euboea (Abantes) — Elphenor — 40 ships
- [655-664] Greek: Athens — Menestheus — 50 ships
- [671-674] Greek: Salamis — Ajax (Telamonian) — 12 ships
- [675-685] Greek: Argive/Argolid line — Diomedes (with Sthenelus, Euryalus) — 80 ships
- [686-700] Greek: Mycenae & Corinthia — Agamemnon — 100 ships
- [701-714] Greek: Lacedaemon (Sparta) — Menelaus — 60 ships
- [715-730] Greek: Pylos (Messenia) — Nestor — 90 ships
- [731-746] Greek: Arcadia — Agapenor — 60 ships
- [747-758] Greek: Elis / Epeians — Amphimachus, Thalpius, Diores, Polyxenus — 40 ships
- [759-764] Greek: Dulichium & Echinades — Meges — 40 ships
- [765-774] Greek: Cephallenians / Ithaca — Ulysses — 12 ships
- [775-784] Greek: Aetolia — Thoas (Andraemon’s son) — 40 ships
- [785-792] Greek: Crete — Idomeneus, Meriones — 80 ships
- [793-814] Greek: Rhodes — Tlepolemus — 9 ships
- [815-820] Greek: Syme — Nireus — 3 ships
- [821-828] Greek: Calydnae & neighbors — Antiphus, Phidippus — 30 ships
- [829-846] Greek: Thessaly (Myrmidons, Hellenes, Achaeans) — Achilles — 50 ships
- [847-863] Greek: Phylace & Pteleon — Protesilaus (fallen), Podarces — 40 ships
- [864-871] Greek: Pherae & Iolcus — Eumelus — 10 ships
- [872-883] Greek: Methone/Thaumacia etc. — Philoctetes (absent), Medon acting — 7 ships
- [884-891] Greek: Tricca, Ithome, Oechalia — Podalirius, Machaon — 30 ships
- [892-895] Greek: Ormenium & Asterium — Eurypylus — 40 ships
- [896-905] Greek: Lapiths (Argissa, Gyrtone) — Polypoetes, Leonteus — 40 ships
- [906-915] Greek: Perrhaebians & Aenianians — Guneus — 20 ships
- [916-923] Greek: Magnesia — Prothous — 40 ships
- [988-991] Trojan: Ilion (Trojans) — Hector
- [992-997] Trojan: Dardanians — Aeneas (with Archilochus, Acamas)
- [998-1003] Ally: Zeleians — Pandarus
- [1004-1011] Ally: Adresteia & Apaesus — Amphius, Adrastus
- [1012-1017] Ally: Arisbe, Sestus, Abydos — Asius Hyrtacides
- [1018-1021] Ally: Pelasgi of Larissa — Hippothous, Pyleus
- [1022-1025] Ally: Thracians — Acamas, Pyroeus
- [1026-1027] Ally: Ciconians (Ismarus region) — Euphemus
- [1028-1033] Ally: Paeonians (Amydon on Axius) — Pyraechmes
- [1034-1041] Ally: Paphlagonians — Pylaemenes
- [1042-1045] Ally: Halizones — Odius, Epistrophus
- [1046-1049] Ally: Mysians — Chromis (with augur Ennomus)
- [1050-1051] Ally: Phrygians (Ascanian) — Phorcys, Ascanius
- [1052-1055] Ally: Meonians (Maeonians) — Mestles, Antiphus
- [1056-1063] Ally: Carians — Amphimachus, Naustes
- [1068-1071] Ally: Lycians — Glaucus, Sarpedon
- [59-64] Time marker: rosy-fingered dawn
- [1-571] Scene: Grecian camp and sea-shore
- [956-987] Scene: Troy—citadel porch to the plain by Bateia
- [366-397] Background: the omen at Aulis and Calchas’ prophecy
NOW pleasing Sleep had seal’d each mortal Eye,
Stretch’d in the Tents the Grecian Leaders lie,
Th’ Immortals slumber’d on their Thrones above;
All, but the ever-wakeful Eyes of Jove.
To honour Thetis’ Son he bends his Care,
And plunge the Greeks in all the Woes of War:
Then bids an empty Phantome rise to sight,
And thus commands the Vision of the Night.
Fly hence, deluding Dream! and light as Air,
To Agamemnon’s ample Tent repair.
Bid him in Arms draw forth th’ embattel’d Train,
Lead all his Grecians to the dusty Plain.
Declare, ev’n now ’tis giv’n him to destroy
The lofty Tow’rs of wide-extended Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At Juno’s Suit the Heav’nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o’er yon’ devoted Wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending Fall.
Swift as the Word the vain Illusion fled,
Descends and hovers o’er Atrides’ Head;
Cloath’d in the Figure of the Pylian Sage,
Renown’d for Wisdom, and rever’d for Age;
Around his Temples spreads his golden Wing,
And thus the flatt’ring Dream deceives the King.
Canst thou, with all a Monarch’s Cares opprest,
Oh Atreus’ Son! canst thou indulge thy Rest?
Ill fits a Chief who mighty Nations guides,
Directs in Council, and in War presides,
To whom its Safety a whole People owes,
To waste long Nights in indolent Repose?
Monarch awake! ’tis Jove’s Command I bear,
Thou, and thy Glory, claim his heav’nly Care.
In just Array draw forth th’ embattel’d Train,
Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty Plain;
Ev’n now, O King! ’tis giv’n thee to destroy
The lofty Tow’rs of wide-extended Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At Juno’s Suit the Heav’nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o’er yon’ devoted Wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending Fall.
Awake, but waking this Advice approve,
And trust the Vision that descends from Jove.
The Phantome said; then, vanish’d from his sight,
Resolves to Air, and mixes with the Night.
A thousand Schemes the Monarch’s Mind employ;
Elate in Thought, he sacks untaken Troy:
Vain as he was, and to the Future blind;
Nor saw what Jove and secret Fate design’d,
What mighty Toils to either Host remain,
What Scenes of Grief and Mountains of the Slain!
50Eager he rises, and in Fancy hears
The Voice Celestial murm’ring in his Ears.
First on his Limbs a slender Vest he drew,
Around him next the Regal Mantle threw,
Th’ embroider’d Sandals on his Feet were ty’d,
The starry Faulchion glitter’d at his side;
And last his Arm the massy Sceptre loads,
Unstain’d, immortal, and the Gift of Gods.
Now rosie Morn ascends the Court of Jove,
Lifts up her Light, and opens Day above.
The King dispatch’d his Heralds with Commands
To range the Camp, and summon all the Bands:
The gath’ring Hosts the Monarch’s Word obey;
While to the Fleet Atrides bends his way.
In his black Ship the Pylian Prince he found,
There calls a Senate of the Peers around.
Th’ Assembly plac’d, the King of Men exprest
The Counsels lab’ring in his artful Breast.
Friends and Confed’rates! with attentive Ear
Receive my Words, and credit what you hear.
Late as I slumber’d in the Shades of Night,
A Dream Divine appear’d before my Sight;
Whose Visionary Form like Nestor came,
The same in Habit, and in Mien the same.
The heav’nly Phantome hover’d o’er my Head,
And, Dost thou sleep, Oh Atreus’ Son? (he said)
Ill suits a Chief who mighty Nations guides,
Directs in Council and in War presides,
To whom its Safety a whole People owes;
To waste long Nights in indolent Repose.
Monarch awake! ’tis Jove’s Command I bear,
Thou and thy Glory claim his heav’nly Care;
In just Array draw forth th’ embattel’d Train,
And lead the Grecians to the dusty Plain;
Ev’n now, O King! ’tis giv’n thee to destroy
The lofty Tow’rs of wide-extended Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At Juno’s Suit the Heav’nly Factions end.
Destruction hangs o’er yon’ devoted Wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th’ impending Fall.
This hear observant; and the Gods obey!
The Vision spoke, and past in Air away.
Now, valiant Chiefs! since Heav’n itself alarms,
Unite, and rouze the Sons of Greece to Arms.
But first, with Caution, try what yet they dare,
Worn with nine Years of unsuccessful War?
To move the Troops to measure back the Main,
Be mine; and yours the Province to detain.
He spoke, and sate; when Nestor rising said,
( Nestor, whom Pylos’ sandy Realms obey’d)
100Princes of Greece, your faithful Ears incline,
Nor doubt the Vision of the Pow’rs Divine;
Sent by great Jove to him who rules the Host,
Forbid it Heav’n! this Warning should be lost!
Then let us haste, obey the Gods Alarms,
And join to rouze the Sons of Greece to Arms.
Thus spoke the Sage: The Kings without Delay
Dissolve the Council, and their Chief obey:
The sceptred Rulers lead; the following Host
Pour’d forth in Millions, darkens all the Coast.
As from some Rocky Cleft the Shepherd sees
Clust’ring in Heaps on Heaps the driving Bees,
Rolling, and black’ning, Swarms succeeding Swarms,
With deeper Murmurs and more hoarse Alarms;
Dusky they spread, a close-embody’d Crowd,
And o’er the Vale descends the living Cloud.
So, from the Tents and Ships, a length’ning Train
Spreads all the Beach, and wide o’ershades the Plain:
Along the Region runs a deaf’ning Sound;
Beneath their Footsteps groans the trembling Ground.
Fame flies before, the Messenger of Jove,
And shining soars and claps her Wings above.
Nine sacred Heralds now proclaiming loud
The Monarch’s Will, suspend the list’ning Crowd.
Soon as the Throngs in Order rang’d appear,
And fainter Murmurs dy’d upon the Ear,
The King of Kings his awful Figure rais’d;
High in his Hand the Golden Sceptre blaz’d:
The Golden Sceptre, of Celestial Frame,
By Vulcan form’d, from Jove to Hermes came:
To Pelops He th’ immortal Gift resign’d;
Th’ immortal Gift great Pelops left behind,
In Atreus’ Hand; which not with Atreus ends,
To rich Thyestes next the Prize descends;
And now the Mark of Agamemnon’s Reign,
Subjects all Argos, and controuls the Main.
On this bright Sceptre now the King reclin’d,
And artful thus pronounc’d the Speech design’d.
Ye Sons of Mars, partake your Leader’s Care,
Heroes of Greece, and Brothers of the War!
Of partial Jove with Justice I complain,
And Heav’nly Oracles believ’d in vain.
A safe Return was promis’d to our Toils,
Renown’d, triumphant, and enrich’d with Spoils.
Our Now shameful Flight alone can save the Host,
Blood, our Treasure, and our Glory lost.
So Jove decrees, resistless Lord of All!
At whose Command whole Empires rise or fall:
He shakes the feeble Props of human Trust,
And Towns and Armies humbles to the Dust.
150What Shame to Greece a fruitless War to wage,
Oh lasting Shame in ev’ry future Age!
Once great in Arms, the common Scorn we grow,
Repuls’d and baffled by a feeble Foe.
So small their Number, that if Wars were ceas’d,
And Greece triumphant held a gen’ral Feast,
All rank’d by Tens; whole Decads when they dine
Must want a Trojan Slave to pour the Wine.
But other Forces have our Hopes o’erthrown,
And Troy prevails by Armies not her own.
Now nine long Years of mighty Jove are run,
Since first the Labours of this War begun:
Our Cordage torn, decay’d our Vessels lie,
And scarce ensure the wretched Pow’r to fly.
Haste then, for ever leave the Trojan Wall!
Our weeping Wives, our tender Children call:
’Tis Love, Duty, Safety, summon us away,
Nature’s Voice, and Nature we obey.
Our shatter’d Barks may yet transport us o’er,
Safe and inglorious, to our native Shore.
Fly, Grecians fly, your Sails and Oars employ,
And dream no more of Heav’n-defended Troy.
His deep Design unknown, the Hosts approve
Atrides’ Speech. The mighty Numbers move.
So roll the Billows to th’ Icarian Shore,
From East and South when Winds begin to roar,
Burst their dark Mansions in the Clouds, and sweep
The whitening Surface of the ruffled Deep.
And as on Corn when Western Gusts descend,
Before the Blast the lofty Harvests bend:
Thus o’er the Field the moving Host appears,
With nodding Plumes and Groves of waving Spears.
The gath’ring Murmur spreads; their trampling Feet
Beat the loose Sands, and thicken to the Fleet.
With long-resounding Cries they urge the Train,
To fit the Ships, and launch into the Main.
They toil, they sweat, thick Clouds of Dust arise,
The doubling Clamours eccho to the Skies.
Ev’n then the Greeks had left the hostile Plain,
And Fate decreed the Fall of Troy in vain;
But Jove’s Imperial Queen their Flight survey’d,
And sighing thus bespoke the blue-ey’d Maid.
Shall then the Grecians fly? Oh dire Disgrace!
And leave unpunish’d this perfidious Race?
Shall Troy, shall Priam, and th’Adult’rous Spouse,
In Peace enjoy the Fruits of broken Vows?
And bravest Chiefs, in Helen’s Quarrel slain,
Lie unreveng’d on yon’ detested Plain?
No—let my Greeks, unmov’d by vain Alarms,
Once more refulgent shine in Brazen Arms.
200Haste, Goddess, haste! the flying Host detain,
Nor let one Sail be hoisted on the Main.
Pallas obeys, and from Olympus’ Height
Swift to the Ships precipitates her Flight;
Ulysses, first in publick Cares, she found,
For prudent Counsel like the Gods renown’d:
Oppress’d with gen’rous Grief the Heroe stood,
Nor drew his sable Vessels to the Flood.
And is it thus, divine Laertes’ Son!
Thus fly the Greeks (the Martial Maid begun)
Thus to their Country bear their own Disgrace,
Fame eternal leave to Priam’s Race?
Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed,
Still unreveng’d a thousand Heroes bleed?
Haste gen’rous Ithacus! prevent the Shame,
Recall your Armies, and your Chiefs reclaim.
Your own resistless Eloquence employ,
And to th’ Immortals trust the Fall of Troy.
The Voice Divine confess’d the Warlike Maid,
Ulysses heard, nor uninspir’d obey’d.
Then meeting first Atrides, from his Hand
Receiv’d th’ Imperial Sceptre of Command,
Thus grac’d, Attention and Respect to gain,
He runs, he flies, thro’ all the Grecian Train,
Each Prince of Name, or Chief in Arms approv’d,
He fir’d with Praise or with Persuasion mov’d.
Warriors like you, with Strength and Wisdom blest,
By brave Examples should confirm the rest.
The Monarch’s Will not yet reveal’d appears;
He tries our Courage, but resents our Fears.
Th’ unwary Greeks his Fury may provoke;
Not thus the King in secret Council spoke.
Jove loves our Chief, from Jove his Honour springs,
Beware! for dreadful is the Wrath of Kings.
But if a clam’rous vile Plebeian rose,
Him with Reproof he check’d, or tam’d with Blows.
Be still thou Slave! and to thy Betters yield;
Unknown alike in Council and in Field!
Ye Gods, what Dastards would our Host command?
Swept to the War, the Lumber of a Land.
Be silent Wretch, and think not here allow’d
That worst of Tyrants, an usurping Crowd.
To One sole Monarch Jove commits the Sway;
His are the Laws, and Him let all obey.
With Words like these the Troops Ulysses rul’d,
The loudest silenc’d, and the fiercest cool’d.
Back to th’ Assembly roll the thronging Train,
Desert the Ships, and pour upon the Plain.
Murm’ring they move, as when old Ocean roars,
And heaves huge Surges to the trembling Shores:
250The groaning Banks are burst with bellowing Sound,
The Rocks remurmur, and the Deeps rebound.
At length the Tumult sinks, the Noises cease,
And a still Silence lulls the Camp to Peace.
Thersites only clamour’d in the Throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of Tongue:
Aw’d by no Shame, by no Respect controul’d,
In Scandal busie, in Reproaches bold:
With witty Malice, studious to defame,
Scorn all his Joy, and Laughter all his Aim.
But chief he glory’d with licentious Style
To lash the Great, and Monarchs to revile.
His Figure such as might his Soul proclaim;
One Eye was blinking, and one Leg was lame:
His Mountain-Shoulders half his Breast o’erspread,
Thin Hairs bestrew’d his long mis-shapen Head.
Spleen to Mankind his envious Heart possest,
And much he hated All, but most the Best.
Ulysses or Achilles still his Theme;
But Royal Scandal his Delight supreme.
Long had he liv’d the Scorn of ev’ry Greek,
Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak.
Sharp was his Voice; which in the shrillest Tone,
Thus with injurious Taunts attack’d the Throne.
Amidst the Glories of so bright a Reign,
What moves the great Atrides to complain?
’Tis thine whate’er the Warrior’s Breast inflames,
The golden Spoil, and thine the lovely Dames.
With all the Wealth our Wars and Blood bestow,
Thy Tents are crowded, and thy Chests o’erflow.
Thus at full Ease in Heaps of Riches roll’d,
What grieves the Monarch? Is it Thirst of Gold?
Say shall we march with our unconquer’d Pow’rs,
(The Greeks and I) to Ilion’s hostile Tow’rs,
And bring the Race of Royal Bastards here,
For Troy to ransom at a Price too dear?
But safer Plunder thy own Host supplies;
Say would’st thou seize some valiant Leader’s Prize?
Or, if thy Heart to gen’rous Love be led,
Some Captive Fair, to bless thy Kingly Bed?
Whate’er our Master craves, submit we must,
Plagu’d with his Pride, or punish’d for his Lust.
Oh Women of Achaia! Men no more!
Hence let us fly, and let him waste his Store
In Loves and Pleasures on the Phrygian Shore.
We may be wanted on some busie Day,
When Hector comes: So great Achilles may:
From him he forc’d the Prize we jointly gave,
From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
And durst he, as he ought, resent that Wrong,
300This mighty Tyrant were no Tyrant long.
Fierce from his Seat, at this, Ulysses springs,
In gen’rous Vengeance of the King of Kings.
With Indignation sparkling in his Eyes,
He views the Wretch, and sternly thus replies.
Peace, factious Monster, born to vex the State,
With wrangling Talents form’d for foul Debate:
Curb that impetuous Tongue, nor rashly vain
And singly mad, asperse the Sov’reign Reign.
Have we not known thee, Slave! of all our Host,
The Man who acts the least, upbraids the most?
Think not the Greeks to shameful Flight to bring,
Nor let those Lips profane the Name of King.
For our Return we trust the heav’nly Pow’rs;
Be that their Care; to fight like Men be ours.
But grant the Host with Wealth the Gen’ral load,
Except Detraction, what hast thou bestow’d?
Suppose some Hero should his Spoils resign,
Art thou that Hero, could those Spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful Shore,
And let these Eyes behold my Son no more;
If, on thy next Offence, this Hand forbear
To strip those Arms thou ill deserv’st to wear,
Expell the Council where our Princes meet,
And send thee scourg’d, and howling thro’ the Fleet.
He said, and cow’ring as the Dastard bends,
The weighty Sceptre on his Back descends:
On the round Bunch the bloody Tumors rise;
The Tears spring starting from his haggard Eyes:
Trembling he sate, and shrunk in abject Fears,
From his vile Visage wip’d the scalding Tears.
While to his Neighbour each express’d his Thought;
Ye Gods! what Wonders has Ulysses wrought?
What Fruits his Conduct and his Courage yield?
Great in the Council, glorious in the Field.
Gen’rous he rises in the Crown’s Defence,
To curb the factious Tongue of Insolence.
Such just Examples on Offenders shown,
Sedition silence, and assert the Throne.
’Twas thus the gen’ral Voice the Heroe prais’d,
Who rising, high th’ Imperial Sceptre rais’d:
The blue-ey’d Pallas, his Celestial Friend,
(In Form a Herald) bade the Crowds attend.
Th’ expecting Crowds in still Attention hung,
To hear the Wisdom of his heav’nly Tongue.
Then deeply thoughtful, pausing e’re he spoke,
His Silence thus the prudent Hero broke.
Unhappy Monarch! whom the Grecian Race
With Shame deserting, heap with vile Disgrace.
Not such at Argos was their gen’rous Vow,
350Once all their Voice, but ah! forgotten now:
Ne’er to return, was then the common Cry,
’Till Troy’s proud Structures shou’d in Ashes lie.
Behold them weeping for their native Shore!
What cou’d their Wives or helpless Children more?
What Heart but melts to leave the tender Train,
And, one short Month, endure the Wintry Main?
Few Leagues remov’d, we wish our peaceful Seat,
When the Ship tosses, and the Tempests beat:
Then well may this long Stay provoke their Tears,
The tedious Length of nine revolving Years.
Not for their Grief the Grecian Host I blame;
But vanquish’d! baffled! oh eternal Shame!
Expect the Time to Troy’s Destruction giv’n,
And try the Faith of Calchas and of Heav’n.
What past at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,
And all who live to breathe this Phrygian Air.
Beside a Fountain’s sacred Brink we rais’d
Our verdant Altars, and the Victims blaz’d;
(’Twas where the Plane-tree spread its Shades around)
The Altars heav’d; and from the crumbling Ground
A mighty Dragon shot, of dire Portent;
From Jove himself the dreadful Sign was sent.
Strait to the Tree his sanguine Spires he roll’d,
And curl’d around in many a winding Fold.
The topmost Branch a Mother-Bird possest;
Eight callow Infants fill’d the mossie Nest;
Herself the ninth: The Serpent as he hung,
Stretch’d his black Jaws, and crash’d the crying Young;
While hov’ring near, with miserable Moan,
The drooping Mother wail’d her Children gone.
The Mother last, as round the Nest she flew,
Seiz’d by the beating Wing, the Monster slew:
Nor long surviv’d; to Marble turn’d he stands
A lasting Prodigy on Aulis’ Sands.
Such was the Will of Jove; and hence we dare
Trust in his Omen, and support the War.
For while around we gaz’d with wondring Eyes,
And trembling sought the Pow’rs with Sacrifice,
Full of his God, the rev’rend Calchas cry’d,
Ye Grecian Warriors! lay your Fears aside.
This wondrous Signal Jove himself displays,
Of long, long Labours, but Eternal Praise.
As many Birds as by the Snake were slain,
So many Years the Toils of Greece remain;
But wait the Tenth, for Ilion’s Fall decreed:
Thus spoke the Prophet, thus the Fates succeed.
Obey, ye Grecians! with Submission wait,
Nor let your Flight avert the Trojan Fate.
He said: the Shores with loud Applauses sound,
400The hollow Ships each deaf’ning Shout rebound.
Then Nestor thus—These vain Debates forbear,
Ye talk like Children, not like Heroes dare.
Where now are all your high Resolves at last,
Your Leagues concluded, your Engagements past?
Vow’d with Libations and with Victims then,
Now vanish’d like their Smoke: The Faith of Men!
While useless Words consume th’ unactive Hours,
No wonder Troy so long resists our Pow’rs.
Rise, great Atrides! and with Courage sway;
We march to War if thou direct the Way.
But leave the few that dare resist thy Laws,
The mean Deserters of the Grecian Cause,
To grudge the Conquests mighty Jove prepares,
And view, with Envy, our successful Wars.
On that great Day when first the martial Train
Big with the Fate of Ilion, plow’d the Main,
Jove, on the Right, a prosp’rous Signal sent,
And Thunder rolling shook the Firmament.
Encourag’d hence, maintain the glorious Strife,
’Till ev’ry Soldier grasp a Phrygian Wife,
’Till Helen’s Woes at full reveng’d appear,
And Troy’s proud Matrons render Tear for Tear.
Before that Day, if any Greek invite
His Country’s Troops to base, inglorious Flight,
Stand forth that Greek! and hoist his Sail to fly;
And dye the Dastard first, who dreads to dye.
But now, O Monarch! all thy Chiefs advise:
Nor what they offer, thou thy self despise.
Among those Counsels, let not mine be vain;
In Tribes and Nations to divide thy Train:
His sep’rate Troops let ev’ry Leader call,
Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
What Chief, or Soldier, of the num’rous Band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys Command,
When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known,
And what the Cause of Ilion not o’erthrown?
If Fate resists, or if our Arms are slow,
If Gods above prevent, or Men below?
To him the King: How much thy Years excell,
In Arts of Council, and in speaking well!
Oh would the Gods, in Love to Greece, decree
But ten such Sages as they grant in thee;
Such Wisdom soon should Priam’s Force destroy,
And soon should fall the haughty Tow’rs of Troy!
But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates
In fierce Contention and in vain Debates.
Now great Achilles from our Aid withdraws,
By me provok’d; a Captive Maid the Cause:
If e’er as Friends we join, the Trojan Wall
450Must shake, and heavy will the Vengeance fall!
But now, ye Warriors, take a short Repast;
And, well refresh’d, to bloody Conflict haste.
His sharpen’d Spear let ev’ry Grecian wield,
And ev’ry Grecian fix his Brazen Shield,
Let all excite the fiery Steeds of War,
And all for Combate fit the ratling Car.
This Day, this dreadful Day, let each contend;
No Rest, no Respite, ’till the Shades descend;
’Till Darkness, or ’till Death shall cover all:
Let the War bleed, and let the Mighty fall!
’Till bath’d in Sweat be ev’ry manly Breast,
With the huge Shield each brawny Arm deprest,
Each aking Nerve refuse the Lance to throw,
And each spent Courser at the Chariot blow.
Who dares, inglorious, in his Ships to stay,
Who dares to tremble on this signal Day,
That Wretch, too mean to fall by martial Pow’r,
The Birds shall mangle, and the Dogs devour.
The Monarch spoke: and strait a Murmur rose,
Loud as the Surges when the Tempest blows,
That dash’d on broken Rocks tumultuous roar,
And foam and thunder on the stony Shore.
Strait to the Tents the Troops dispersing bend,
The Fires are kindled, and the Smokes ascend;
With hasty Feasts they sacrifice, and pray
T’avert the Dangers of the doubtful Day.
A Steer of five Year’s Age, large limb’d, and fed,
To Jove’s high Altars Agamemnon led:
There bade the noblest of the Grecian Peers;
And Nestor first, as most advanc’d in Years.
Next came Idomeneus and Tydeus’ Son,
Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon;
Then wise Ulysses in his Rank was plac’d;
And Menelaus came unbid, the last.
The Chiefs surround the destin’d Beast, and take
The sacred Off’ring of the salted Cake:
When thus the King prefers his solemn Pray’r.
Oh Thou! whose Thunder rends the clouded Air,
Who in the Heav’n of Heav’ns hast fix’d thy Throne,
Supreme of Gods! unbounded, and alone!
Hear! and before the burning Sun descends,
Before the Night her gloomy Veil extends,
Low in the Dust be laid yon’ hostile Spires,
Be Priam’s Palace sunk in Grecian Fires,
In Hector’s Breast be plung’d this shining Sword,
And slaughter’d Heroes groan around their Lord!
Thus pray’d the Chief: His unavailing Pray’r
Great Jove refus’d, and tost in empty Air:
The God averse, while yet the Fumes arose,
500Prepar’d new Toils and doubled Woes on Woes.
Their Pray’rs perform’d, the Chiefs the Rite pursue,
The Barley sprinkled, and the Victim slew.
The Limbs they sever from th’ inclosing Hyde,
The Thighs, selected to the Gods, divide.
On these, in double Cauls involv’d with Art,
The choicest Morsels lie from ev’ry Part.
From the cleft Wood the crackling Flames aspire,
While the fat Victim feeds the sacred Fire.
The Thighs thus sacrific’d and Entrails drest,
Th’Assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest;
Then spread the Tables, the Repast prepare,
Each takes his Seat, and each receives his Share.
Soon as the Rage of Hunger was supprest,
The gen’rous Nestor thus the Prince addrest.
Now bid thy Heralds sound the loud Alarms,
And call the Squadrons sheath’d in Brazen Arms:
Now seize th’ Occasion, now the Troops survey,
And lead to War, when Heav’n directs the Way.
He said; the Monarch issu’d his Commands;
Strait the loud Heralds call the gath’ring Bands.
The Chiefs inclose their King; the Hosts divide,
In Tribes and Nations rank’d on either side.
High in the midst the blue-ey’d Virgin flies;
From Rank to Rank she darts her ardent Eyes:
The dreadful Aegis, Jove’s immortal Shield,
Blaz’d on her Arm, and lighten’d all the Field:
Round the vast Orb an hundred Serpents roll’d,
Form’d the bright Fringe, and seem’d to burn in Gold.
With this, each Grecian’s manly Breast she warms,
Swells their bold Hearts, and strings their nervous Arms;
No more they sigh, inglorious to return,
But breathe Revenge, and for the Combate burn.
As on some Mountain, thro’ the lofty Grove
The crackling Flames ascend and blaze above,
The Fires expanding as the Winds arise,
Shoot their long Beams, and kindle half the Skies:
So from the polish’d Arms, and brazen Shields,
A gleamy Splendor flash’d along the Fields.
Not less their Number, than th’ embody’d Cranes,
Or milk-white Swans in Asius’ watry Plains,
That o’er the Windings of Cayster’s Springs,
Stretch their long Necks, and clap their rustling Wings,
Now tow’r aloft, and course in airy Rounds;
Now light with Noise; with Noise the Field resounds.
Thus num’rous and confus’d, extending wide,
The Legions crowd Scamander’s flow’ry Side,
With rushing Troops the Plains are cover’d o’er,
And thund’ring Footsteps shake the sounding Shore:
Along the River’s level Meads they stand,
550Thick as in Spring the Flow’rs adorn the Land,
Or Leaves the Trees; or thick as Insects play,
The wandring Nation of a Summer’s Day,
That drawn by milky Steams, at Ev’ning Hours,
In gather’d Swarms surround the Rural Bow’rs;
From Pail to Pail with busie Murmur run
The gilded Legions glitt’ring in the Sun.
So throng’d, so close, the Grecian Squadrons stood
In radiant Arms, and thirst for Trojan Blood.
Each Leader now his scatter’d Force conjoins
In close Array, and forms the deep’ning Lines.
Not with more Ease, the skilful Shepherd Swain
Collects his Flock from Millions on the Plain.
The King of Kings, majestically tall,
Tow’rs o’er his Armies, and outshines them all:
Like some proud Bull that round the Pastures leads
His Subject-Herds, the Monarch of the Meads.
Great as the Gods th’ exalted Chief was seen,
His Strength like Neptune, and like Mars his Mien,
Jove o’er his Eyes celestial Glories spread,
And dawning Conquest play’d around his Head.
Say, Virgins, seated round the Throne Divine,
All-knowing Goddesses! immortal Nine!
Since Earth’s wide Regions, Heav’n’s unmeasur’d Height,
And Hell’s Abyss hide nothing from your sight,
(We, wretched Mortals! lost in Doubts below,
But guess by Rumour, and but boast we know)
Oh say what Heroes, fir’d by Thirst of Fame,
Or urg’d by Wrongs, to Troy’s Destruction came?
To count them all, demands a thousand Tongues,
A Throat of Brass, and Adamantine Lungs.
Daughters of Jove assist! inspir’d by You
The mighty Labour dauntless I pursue:
What crowded Armies, from what Climes they bring,
Their Names, their Numbers, and their Chiefs I sing.
THE hardy Warriors whom Boeotia bred,
Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoënor led:
With these Arcesilaus and Clonius stand,
Equal in Arms, and equal in Command.
These head the Troops that Rocky Aulis yields,
And Eteon’s Hills, and Hyrie’s watry Fields,
And Schoenos, Scolos, Graea near the Main,
And Mycalessia’s ample Piny Plain.
Those who in Peteon or Ilesion dwell,
Or Harma where Apollo’s Prophet fell;
Heleon and Hylè, which the Springs o’erflow;
And Medeon lofty, and Ocalea low;
Or in the Meads of Haliartus stray,
Or Thespia sacred to the God of Day.
Onchestus, Neptune’s celebrated Groves;
600Copae, and Thisbè, fam’d for silver Doves,
For Flocks Erythrae, Glissa for the Vine;
Plataea green, and Nisa the divine.
And they whom Thebè’s well-built Walls inclose,
Where Mydè, Eutresis, Coronè rose;
And Arnè rich, with purple Harvests crown’d;
And Anthedon, Boeotia’s utmost Bound.
Full fifty Ships they send, and each conveys
Twice sixty Warriors thro’ the foaming Seas.
To these succeed Aspledon’s martial Train,
Who plow the spacious Orchomenian Plain.
Two valiant Brothers rule th’ undaunted Throng,
Iälmen and Ascalaphus the strong:
Sons of Astyochè the Heav’nly Fair,
Whose Virgin Charms subdu’d the God of War:
(In Actor’s Court as she retir’d to Rest,
The Strength of Mars the blushing Maid comprest)
Their Troops in thirty sable Vessels sweep
With equal Oars, the hoarse-resounding Deep.
The Phocians next in forty Barks repair,
Epistrophus and Schedius head the War.
From those rich Regions where Cephisus leads
His silver Current thro’ the flow’ry Meads;
From Panopëa, Chrysa the Divine,
Where Anemoria’s stately Turrets shine,
Where Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus stood,
And fair Lilaea views the rising Flood.
These rang’d in Order on the floating Tide,
Close, on the left, the bold Boeotians side.
Fierce Ajax led the Locrian Squadrons on,
Ajax the less, Oïleus’ valiant Son;
Skill’d to direct the flying Dart aright;
Swift in Pursuit, and active in the Fight.
Him, as their Chief, the chosen Troops attend,
Which Bessa, Thronus, and rich Cynos send:
Opus, Calliarus, and Scarphe’s Bands;
And those who dwell where pleasing Augia stands,
And where Boägrius floats the lowly Lands,
Or in fair Tarphe’s Sylvan Seats reside;
In forty Vessels cut the yielding Tide.
Euboea next her martial Sons prepares,
And sends the brave Abantes to the Wars:
Breathing Revenge, in Arms they take their Way
From Chalcis’ Walls, and strong Eretria;
Th’ Isteian Fields for gen’rous Vines renown’d,
The fair Carystos, and the Styrian Ground;
Where Dios from her Tow’rs o’erlooks the Plain,
And high Cerinthus views the Neighb’ring Main.
Down their broad Shoulders falls a Length of Hair;
Their Hands dismiss not the long Lance in Air;
650But with portended Spears in fighting Fields,
Pierce the tough Cors’lets and the brazen Shields.
Twice twenty Ships transport the warlike Bands,
Which bold Elphenor, fierce in Arms, commands.
Full fifty more from Athens stem the Main,
Led by Menestheus thro’ the liquid Plain,
( Athens the fair, where great Erectheus sway’d,
That ow’d his Nurture to the blue-ey’d Maid,
But from the teeming Furrow took his Birth,
The mighty Offspring of the foodful Earth.
Him Pallas plac’d amidst her wealthy Fane,
Ador’d with Sacrifice and Oxen slain;
Where as the Years revolve her Altars blaze,
And all the Tribes resound the Goddess’ Praise.)
No Chief like thee, Menestheus! Greece could yield,
To martial Armies in the dusty Field,
Th’ extended Wings of Battel to display,
Or close th’ embody’d Host in firm Array.
Nestor alone, improv’d by Length of Days,
For martial Conduct bore an equal Praise.
With these appear the Salaminian Bands,
Whom the Gigantic Telamon commands;
In twelve black Ships to Troy they steer their Course,
And with the great Athenians join their Force.
Next move to War the gen’rous Argive Train,
From high Troezenè, and Maseta’s Plain,
And fair Aegina circled by the Main:
Whom strong Tyrinthè’s lofty Walls surround,
And Epidaure with Viny Harvests crown’d:
And where fair Asinen and Hermion show
Their Cliffs above, and ample Bay below.
These by the brave Euryalus were led,
Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed,
But chief Tydides bore the Sov’reign Sway;
In fourscore Barks they plow the watry Way.
The proud Mycoenè arms her martial Pow’rs,
Cleonè, Corinth, with Imperial Tow’rs,
Fair Arethyrea, Ornia’s fruitful Plain,
And Aegion, and Adrastus’ ancient Reign;
And those who dwell along the sandy Shore,
And where Pellenè yields her fleecy Store,
Where Helicè and Hyperesia lie,
And Gonoëssa’s Spires salute the Sky.
Great Agamemnon rules the num’rous Band,
A hundred Vessels in long Order stand,
And crowded Nations wait his dread Command.
High on the Deck the King of Men appears,
And his refulgent Arms in Triumph wears;
Proud of his Host, unrival’d in his Reign,
In silent Pomp he moves along the Main.
700His Brother follows, and to Vengeance warms
The hardy Spartans, exercis’d in Arms:
Phares and Brysia’s valiant Troops, and those
Whom Lacedaemon’s lofty Hills inclose:
Or Messè’s. Tow’rs for silver Doves renown’d,
Amyclae, Laäs, Augia’s happy Ground,
And those whom Oetylos’ low Walls contain,
And Helos, on the Margin of the Main.
These, o’er the bending Ocean, Helen’s Cause
In sixty Ships with Menelaus draws:
Eager and loud, from Man to Man he flies,
Revenge and Fury flaming in his Eyes;
While vainly fond, in Fancy oft he hears
The Fair one’s Grief, and sees her falling Tears.
In ninety Sail, from Pylos’ sandy Coast,
Nestor the Sage conducts his chosen Host:
From Amphigenia’s ever-fruitful Land;
Where Aepy high, and little Pteleon stand;
Where beauteous Arenè her Structures shows,
And Thryon’s Walls Alphëus’ Streams inclose:
And Dorion, fam’d for Thamyris’ Disgrace,
Superior once of all the tuneful Race,
’Till vain of Mortal’s empty Praise, he strove
To match the Seed of Cloud-compelling Jove.
Too daring Bard! whose unsuccessful Pride
Th’ Immortal Muses in their Art defy’d.
Th’ avenging Muses of the Light of Day
Depriv’d his Eyes, and snatch’d his Voice away;
No more his heav’nly Voice was heard to sing;
His Hand no more awak’d the silver String.
Where under high Cyllenè crown’d with Wood,
The shaded Tomb of old Aepytus stood;
From Ripè, Stratie, Tegea’s bord’ring Towns,
The Phenean Fields, and Orchomenian Downs,
Where the fat Herds in plenteous Pasture rove;
And Stymphelus with her surrounding Grove;
Parrhasia, on her snowy Cliffs reclin’d,
And high Enispè shook by wintry Wind,
And fair Mantinea’s ever-pleasing Site;
In sixty Sail th’ Arcadian Bands unite.
Bold Agapenor glorious at their Head,
( Ancoeus’ Son) the mighty Squadron led.
Their Ships, supply’d by Agamemnon’s Care,
Thro’ roaring Seas the wond’ring Warriors bear;
The first to battel on th’ appointed Plain,
But new to all the Dangers of the Main.
Those, where fair Elis and Buprasium join;
Whom Hyrmin, here, and Myrsinus confine,
And bounded there, where o’er the Vallies rose
Th’ Olenian Rock; and where Alisium flows;
750Beneath four Chiefs (a num’rous Army) came:
The Strength and Glory of th’ Epean Name.
In sep’rate Squadrons these their Train divide,
Each leads ten Vessels thro’ the yielding Tide.
One was Amphimachus, and Thalpius one;
( Eurytus’ this, and that Teätus’ Son)
Diores sprung from Amarynceus’ Line;
And great Polyxenus, of Force divine.
But those who view fair Elis o’er the Seas
From the blest Islands of th’ Echinades,
In forty Vessels under Meges move,
Begot by Phyleus, the Belov’d of Jove.
To strong Dulichium from his Sire he fled,
And thence to Troy his hardy Warriors led.
Ulysses follow’d thro’ the watry Road,
A Chief, in Wisdom equal to a God.
With those whom Cephalenia’s Isle inclos’d,
Or till’d their Fields along the Coast oppos’d;
Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the Floods,
Where high Neritos shakes his waving Woods,
Where Aegilipa’s rugged Sides are seen,
Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green.
These in twelve Galleys with Vermillion Prores,
Beneath his Conduct sought the Phrygian Shores,
Thoas came next, Andraemon’s valiant Son,
From Pleuron’s Walls and chalky Calydon,
And rough Pylenè, and th’ Olenian Steep,
And Chalcis, beaten by the rolling Deep.
He led the Warriors from th’ Aetolian Shore,
For now the Sons of Oeneus were no more!
The Glories of the mighty Race were fled!
Oeneus himself, and Meleager dead;
To Thoas’ Care now trust the martial Train,
His forty Vessels follow thro’ the Main.
Next eighty Barks the Cretan King commands,
Of Gnossus, Lyctus, and Gortyna’s Bands,
And those who dwell where Rhytion’s Domes arise,
Or white Lycastus glitters to the Skies,
Or where by Phoestus silver Jardan runs;
Crete’s hundred Cities pour forth all her Sons.
These march’d, Idomeneus, beneath thy Care,
And Merion, dreadful as the God of War.
Tlepolemus, the Son of Hercules,
Led nine swift Vessels thro’ the foamy Seas;
From Rhodes with everlasting Sunshine bright,
Jalyssus, Lindus, and Camirus white.
His captive Mother fierce Alcides bore
From Ephyr’s Walls, and Sellè’s winding Shore,
Where mighty Towns in Ruins spread the Plain,
And saw their blooming Warriors early slain.
800The Hero, when to Manly Years he grew,
Alcides’ Uncle, old Lycimnius, slew;
For this, constrain’d to quit his native Place,
And shun the Vengeance of th’ Herculean Race,
A Fleet he built, and with a num’rous Train
Of willing Exiles wander’d o’er the Main;
Where many Seas, and many Suff’rings past,
On happy Rhodes the Chief arriv’d at last:
There in three Tribes divides his native Band,
And rules them peaceful in a foreign Land:
Encreas’d and prosper’d in their new Abodes,
By mighty Jove, the Sire of Men and Gods;
With Joy they saw the growing Empire rise,
And Show’rs of Wealth descending from the Skies.
Three Ships with Nireus sought the Trojan Shore,
Nireus, whom Agläe to Charopus bore,
Nireus, in faultless Shape, and blooming Grace,
The loveliest Youth of all the Grecian Race;
Pelides only match’d his early Charms;
But few his Troops, and small his Strength in Arms.
Next thirty Galleys cleave the liquid Plain,
Of those Calydnoe’s Sea-girt Isles contain;
With them the Youth of Nisyrus repair,
Casus the strong, and Crapathus the fair;
Cos, where Eurypylus possest the Sway,
’Till great Alcides made the Realms obey:
These Antiphus and bold Phidippus bring,
Sprung from the God, by Thessalus the King.
Now Muse recount Pelasgic Argos’ Pow’rs,
From Alos, Alopè, and Trechin’s Tow’rs;
From Pthia’s spacious Vales; and Hella, blest
With Female Beauty far beyond the rest.
Full fifty Ships beneath Achilles’ Care
Th’ Achaians, Myrmidons, Helleneans bear,
Thessalians all, tho’ various in their Name,
The same their Nation, and their Chief the same.
But now inglorious, stretch’d along the Shore,
They hear the brazen Voice of War no more;
No more the Foe they face in dire Array;
Close in his Fleet their angry Leader lay:
Since fair Briseïs from his Arms was torn,
The noblest Spoil from sack’d Lyrnessus born,
Then, when the Chief the Theban Walls o’erthrew,
And the bold Sons of great Evenus slew.
There mourn’d Achilles, plung’d in Depth of Care,
But soon to rise in Slaughter, Blood, and War.
To these the Youth of Phylacè succeed,
Itona, famous for her fleecy Breed,
And grassy Pteleon deck’d with chearful Greens,
The Bow’rs of Ceres, and the Sylvan Scenes,
850Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming Flourets crown’d,
And Antron’s watry Dens and cavern’d Ground.
These own’d as Chief Protesilas the brave,
Who now lay silent in the gloomy Grave:
The first who boldly touch’d the Trojan Shore,
And dy’d a Phrygian Lance with Grecian Gore:
There lies, far distant from his native Plain;
Unfinish’d his proud Palaces remain,
And his sad Consort beats her Breast in vain.
His Troops in forty Ships Podarces led,
Iphiclus’ Son, and Brother to the Dead;
Nor he unworthy to command the Host;
Yet still they mourn’d their ancient Leader lost.
The Men who Glaphyra’s fair Soil partake,
Where Hills encircle Boebe’s lowly Lake,
Where Pherae hears the neighb’ring Waters fall,
Or proud Iölcus lifts her Airy Wall:
In ten black Ships embark’d for Ilion’s Shore,
With bold Eumelus, whom Alcestè bore.
All Pelias’ Race Alcestè far outshin’d,
The Grace and Glory of the beauteous Kind.
The Troops Methonè, or Thaumacia yields,
Olyzon’s Rocks, or Moelibaea’s Fields,
With Philoctetes sail’d, whose matchless Art
From the tough Bow directs the feather’d Dart.
Sev’n were his Ships; each Vessel fifty row,
Skill’d in his Science of the Dart and Bow.
But he lay raging on the Lemnian Ground,
A pois’nous Hydra gave the burning Wound,
There groan’d the Chief in agonizing Pain;
Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in vain.
His Forces Medon led from Lemnos’ Shore,
Oïleus’ Son whom beauteous Rhena bore.
Th’ Oechalian Race, in those high Tow’rs contain’d,
Where once Eurytus in proud Triumph reign’d,
Or where her humbler Turrets Trica rears,
Or where Ithomè, rough with Rocks, appears;
In thirty Sail the sparkling Waves divide,
Which Podalirius and Machaon guide.
To these his Skill their Parent-God imparts,
Divine Professors of the Healing Arts.
The bold Ormenian and Asterian Bands
In forty Barks Eurypilus commands,
Where Titan hides his hoary Head in Snow,
And where Hyperia’s silver Fountains flow.
Thy Troops, Argissa, Polyphaetes leads,
And Eleon, shelter’d by Olympus’ Shades,
Girtonè’s Warriors; and where Orthè lies,
And Oloösson’s chalky Cliffs arise.
Sprung from Pirithoüs of immortal Race,
900The Fruit of fair Hippodamè’s Embrace,
(That Day, when hurl’d from Pelion’s cloudy Head,
To distant Dens the shaggy Centaurs fled)
With Polypaetes join’d in equal Sway
Leonteus leads, and forty Ships obey.
In twenty Sail the bold Perrhebians came
From Cyphus, Guneus was their Leader’s Name.
With these the Aenians join’d, and those who freeze
Where cold Dodona lifts her Holy Trees;
Or where the pleasing Titaresius glides,
And into Peneus rolls his easy Tides;
Yet o’er the silver Surface pure they flow,
The sacred Stream unmix’d with Streams below,
Sacred and awful! From the dark Abodes
Styx pours them forth, the dreadful Oath of Gods!
Last under Prothous the Magnesians stood,
Prothous the swift, of old Tenthredon’s Blood;
Who dwell where Pelion crown’d with Piny Boughs
Obscures the Glade, and nods his shaggy Brows,
Or where thro’ flow’ry Tempè Peneus stray’d,
(The Region stretch’d beneath his mighty Shade)
In forty sable Barks they stem’d the Main;
Such were the Chiefs, and such the Grecian Train.
Say next O Muse! of all Achaïa breeds,
Who bravest fought, or rein’d the noblest Steeds?
Eumelus’ Mares were foremost in the Chace,
As Eagles fleet, and of Pheretian Race;
Bred where Pieria’s fruitful Fountains flow,
And train’d by Him who bears the Silver Bow.
Fierce in the Fight, their Nostrils breath’d a Flame,
Their Height, their Colour, and their Age the same;
O’er Fields of Death they whirl the rapid Car,
And break the Ranks, and thunder thro’ the War.
Ajax in Arms the first Renown acquir’d,
While stern Achilles in his Wrath retir’d:
(His was the Strength that mortal Might exceeds,
And his, th’ unrival’d Race of Heav’nly Steeds)
But Thetis’ Son now shines in Arms no more;
His Troops, neglected on the sandy Shore,
In empty Air their sportive Jav’lins throw,
Or whirl the Disk, or bend an idle Bow:
Unstain’d with Blood his cover’d Chariots stand;
Th’ Immortal Coursers graze along the Strand;
But the brave Chiefs th’ inglorious Life deplor’d,
And wand’ring o’er the Camp, requir’d their Lord
Now, like a Deluge, cov’ring all around,
The shining Armies swept along the Ground;
Swift as a Flood of Fire, when Storms arise,
Floats the wide Field, and blazes to the Skies.
Earth groan’d beneath them; as when angry Jove
950Hurls down the forky Light’ning from above,
On Arimè when he the Thunder throws,
And fires Typhoeus with redoubled Blows,
Where Typhon, prest beneath the burning Load,
Still feels the Fury of th’ avenging God.
But various Iris, Jove’s Commands to bear,
Speeds on the Wings of Winds thro’ liquid Air;
In Priam’s Porch the Trojan Chiefs she found,
The Old consulting, and the Youths around.
Polites’ Shape, the Monarch’s Son, she chose,
Who from Aesetes’ Tomb observ’d the Foes;
High on the Mound; from whence in Prospect lay
The Fields, the Tents, the Navy, and the Bay.
In this dissembled Form, she hasts to bring
Th’ unwelcome Message to the Phrygian King.
Cease to consult, the Time for Action calls,
War, horrid War, approaches to your Walls!
Assembled Armies oft’ have I beheld;
But ne’er ’till now such Numbers charg’d a Field.
Thick as Autumnal Leaves, or driving Sand,
The moving Squadrons blacken all the Strand.
Thou, Godlike Hector! all thy Force employ,
Assemble all th’ united Bands of Troy;
In just Array let ev’ry Leader call
The foreign Troops: This Day demands them all.
The Voice Divine the mighty Chief alarms;
The Council breaks, the Warriors rush to Arms.
The Gates unfolding pour forth all their Train,
Nations on Nations fill the dusky Plain,
Men, Steeds, and Chariots shake the trembling Ground;
The Tumult thickens, and the Skies resound.
Amidst the Plain in sight of Ilion stands
A rising Mount the Work of human Hands,
(This for Myrinnè’s Tomb th’ Immortals know,
Tho’ call’d Bateïa in the World below)
Beneath their Chiefs in martial Order here,
Th’ Auxiliar Troops and Trojan Hosts appear.
The Godlike Hector, high above the rest,
Shakes his huge Spear, and nods his Plumy Crest:
In Throngs around his native Bands repair,
And Groves of Lances glitter in the Air.
Divine Aenëas brings the Dardan Race,
Anchises’ Son, by Venus’ stol’n Embrace,
Born in the Shades of Ida’s secret Grove,
(A Mortal mixing with the Queen of Love)
Archilochus and Achamas divide
The Warrior’s Toils, and combate by his side.
Who fair Zeleia’s wealthy Vallies till,
Fast by the Foot of Ida’s sacred Hill:
Or drink, Aesepus, of thy sable Flood;
1000Were led by Pandarus, of Royal Blood.
To whom his Art Apollo deign’d to show,
Grac’d with the Present of his Shafts and Bow.
From rich Apaesus and Adrestia’s Tow’rs,
High Teree’s Summits, and Pityea’s Bow’rs;
From these the congregated Troops obey
Young Amphius and Adrastus’ equal Sway;
Old Merops Sons; whom skill’d in Fate to come
The Sire forewarn’d, and prophecy’d their Doom:
Fate urg’d them on! the Sire forewarn’d in vain,
They rush’d to War, and perish’d on the Plain.
From Practius’ Stream, Percotè’s Pasture Lands,
And Sestos and Abydos’ neighb’ring Strands,
From great Arisba’s Walls and Sellè’s Coast,
Asius Hyrtacides conducts his Host:
High on his Car he shakes the flowing Reins,
His fiery Coursers thunder o’er the Plains.
The fierce Pelasgi next, in War renown’d,
March from Larissa’s ever-fertile Ground:
In equal Arms their Brother-Leaders shine,
Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the Divine.
Next Acamas and Pyrous lead their Hosts
In dread Array, from Thracia’s wintry Coasts;
Round the bleak Realms where Hellespontus roars,
And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding Shores.
With great Euphemus the Ciconians move,
Sprung from Trezenian Ceus, lov’d by Jove.
Pyrechmes the Poeonian Troops attend,
Skill’d in the Fight their crooked Bows to bend;
From Axius’ ample Bed he leads them on,
Axius, that laves the distant Amydon,
Axius, that swells with all his neighb’ring Rills,
And wide around the floated Region fills.
The Paphlagonians Pylaemenes rules,
Where rich Henetia breeds her savage Mules,
Where Erythinus’ rising Clifts are seen,
Thy Groves of Box, Cytorus! ever green;
And where Aegyalus and Cromna lie,
And lofty Sesamus invades the Sky;
And where Parthenius, roll’d thro’ Banks of Flow’rs,
Reflects her bord’ring Palaces and Bow’rs.
Here march’d in Arms the Halizonian Band,
Whom Odius and Epistrophus command,
From those far Regions where the Sun refines
The ripening Silver in Alybean Mines.
There, mighty Chromis led the Mysian Train,
And Augur Ennomus, inspir’d in vain,
For stern Achilles lopt his sacred Head,
Roll’d down Scamander with the Vulgar Dead.
Phorcys and brave Ascanius here unite
1050Th’ Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the Fight.
Of those who round Moeonia’s Realms reside,
Or whom the Vales in Shade of Tmolus hide,
Mestles and Antiphus the Charge partake;
Born on the Banks of Gyges’ silent Lake.
There, from the Fields where wild Maeander flows,
High Mycalè, and Latmos’ shady Brows,
And proud Miletus, came the Carian Throngs,
With mingled Clamors, and with barb’rous Tongues.
Amphimachus and Naustes guide the Train,
Naustes the bold, Amphimachus the vain,
Who trick’d with Gold, and glitt’ring on his Car,
Rode like a Woman to the Field of War.
Fool that he was! by fierce Achilles slain,
The River swept him to the briny Main:
There whelm’d with Waves the gawdy Warrior lies;
The valiant Victor seiz’d the golden Prize.
The Forces last in fair Array succeed,
Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead;
The warlike Bands that distant Lycia yields,
Where gulphy Xanthus foams along the Fields.
Observations on the 2nd Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note OBSERVATIONS on the CATALOGUE.
Note I.
VERSE 1. NOW pleasing Sleep, &c.]
Aristotle tells us in the twenty sixth Chapter of his Art of Poetry, that this Place had been objected to by some Criticks in those Times. They thought it gave a very ill Idea of the military Discipline of the Greeks, to represent a whole Army unguarded, and all the Leaders a-sleep: They also pretended it was ridiculous to describe all the Gods sleeping besides Jupiter. To both these Aristotle answers, that nothing is more usual or allowable than that Figure which puts All for the greater Part. One may add with respect to the latter Criticism, that nothing could give a better Image of the Superiority of Jupiter to the other Gods (or of the supreme Being to all second Causes) than the Vigilancy here ascrib’d to him, over all Things Divine and Human.
Note II.
VERSE 9. Fly hence, deluding Dream. ]
It appears from Aristotle, Poet. cap. 26. that Homer was accus’d of Impiety, for making Jupiter the Author of a Lye in this Passage. It seems there were anciently these Words in his Speech to the Dream; [Greek]Let us give him great Glory. (Instead of which we have in the present Copies, [Greek]) but Hippias found a way to bring off Homer, only by placing the Accent on the last Syllable but one, [Greek], for [Greek], the Infinitive for the Imperative: which amounts to no more than that he bade the Dream to Promise him great Glory. But Macrobius de somnio Scip. l. 1. c. 7. takes off this Imputation entirely, and will not allow there was any Lye in the Case.
" Agamemnon (says he) was order’d by the Dream to lead out All the Forces of the Greeks ( [Greek]is the word) and promis’d the Victory on that Condition: Now Achilles and his Forces not being summon’d to the Assembly with the rest, that Neglect absolv’d Jupiter from his Promise."
This Remark Madam Dacier has inserted without mentioning its Author. Mr. Dacier takes notice of a Passage in the Scripture exactly parallel to this, where God is represented making use of the Malignity of his Creatures to accomplish his Judgments. ’Tis in 2 Chron.. ch. 18. ℣. 19, 20, 21. And the Lord said, Who will persuade Ahab, that he may go up and fall at Ramoth Gilead? And there came forth a Spirit, and stood before the Lord, and said, I will persuade him. And the Lord said unto him, Wherewith? And he said, I will go forth, and I will be a lying Spirit in the Mouth of all his Prophets, And he said, Thou shalt persuade him and prevail also: Go forth and do so. Vide Dacier upon Aristotle, cap. 26.
Note III.
VERSE 20. Descends and hovers o’er Atrides’ Head. ]
The whole Action of the Dream is beautifully natural, and agreeable to Philosophy. It perches on his Head, to intimate that Part to be the Seat of the Soul: It is circumfused about him, to express that total Possession of the Senses which Fancy has during our Sleeps. It takes the Figure of the Person who was dearest to Agamemnon; as whatever we think of most when awake, is the common Object of our Dreams. And just at the Instant of its vanishing, it leaves such an Impression that the Voice seems still to sound in his Ear. No Description can be more exact or lively. Eustathius, Dacier.
Note IV.
VERSE 33. Draw forth th’ embattel’d Train, &c.]
The Dream here repeats the Message of Jupiter in the same Terms that he receiv’d it. It is no less than the Father of Gods and Men who gives the Order, and to alter a word were Presumption. Homer constantly makes his Envoys observe this Practice as a Mark of Decency and respect. Madam Dacier and others have applauded this in general, and ask’d by what Authority an Embassador could alter the Terms of his Commission, since he is not greater or wiser than the Person who gave the Charge? But this is not always the Case in our Author, who not only makes use of this Conduct with respect to the Orders of a higher Power, but in regard to Equals also; as when one Goddess desires another to represent such an Affair, and she immediately takes the Words from her Mouth and repeats them, of which we have an Instance in this Book. Some Objection too may be rais’d to this manner, when Commissions are given in the utmost haste (in a Battel or the like) upon sudden Emergencies; where it seems not very natural to suppose a Man has time to get so many Words by heart as he is made to repeat exactly. In the present Instance, the Repetition is certainly graceful, tho’ Zenodotus thought it not so the third time, when Agamemnon tells his Dream to the Council. I do not pretend to decide upon the Point: For tho’ the Reverence of the Repetition seem’d less needful in that Place than when it was deliver’d immediately from Jupiter; yet (as Eustathius observes) it was necessary for the Assembly to know the Circumstances of this Dream, that the Truth of the Relation might be unsuspected.
Note V.
VERSE 93. Now valiant Chiefs, &c.]
The best Commentary extant upon the first Part of this Book is in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who has given us an admirable Explication of this whole Conduct of Agamemnon in his second Treatise [Greek]. He says,
"This Prince had nothing so much at Heart as to draw the Greeks to a Battel, yet knew not how to proceed without Achilles, who had just retir’d from the Army; and was apprehensive that the Greeks who were displeas’d at the Departure of Achilles, might refuse Obedience to his Orders, should he absolutely command it. In this Circumstance he proposes to the Princes in Council to make a Tryal of arming the Graecians, and offers an Expedient himself; which was that he should sound their Dispositions by exhorting him to set sail for Greece, but that then the other Princes should be ready to dissuade and detain them. If any object to this Stratagem that Agamemnon’s whole Scheme would be ruin’d if the Army should take him at his word (which was very probable) it is to be answer’d, that his Design lay deeper than they imagine, nor did he depend upon his Speech only for detaining them. He had some Cause to fear the Greeks had a Pique against him which they had conceal’d, and whatever it was, he judg’d it absolutely necessary to know it before he proceeded to a Battel. He therefore furnishes them with an Occasion to manifest it, and at the same time provides against any ill Effects it might have by his secret Orders to the Princes. It succeeds accordingly, and when the Troops are running to embark, they are stop’d by Ulysses and Nestor. "
—One may farther observe that this whole Stratagem is concerted in Nestor’s Ship, as one whose Wisdom and Secrecy was most confided in. The Story of the Vision’s appearing in his Shape, could not but engage him in some degree: It look’d as if Jupiter himself added Weight to his Counsels by making use of that venerable Appearance, and knew this to be the most powerful Method of recommending them to Agamemnon. It was therefore but natural for Nestor to second the Motion of the King, and by the help of his Authority it prevail’d on the other Princes.
Note VI.
VERSE 111. As from some rocky Cleft. ]
This is the first Simile in Homer, and we may observe in general that he excels all Mankind in the Number, Variety, and Beauty of his Comparisons. There are scarce any in Virgil which are not translated from him, and therefore when he succeeds best in them he is to be commended but as an Improver. Scaliger seems not to have thought of this when he compares the Similes of these two Authors (as indeed they are the Places most obvious to Comparison.) The present Passage is an Instance of it, to which he opposes the following Verses in the first Aeneid.
Qualis apes aestate novâ per florea rura Exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos Educunt foetus, aut cum liquentia mella Stipant, & dulci distendunt nectare cellas: Aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto Ignavum fucos pecus à praesepibus arcent; Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella.
This he very much prefers to Homer’s, and in particular extols the Harmony and Sweetness of the Versification above that of our Author; against which Censure we need only appeal to the Ears of the Reader.
[Greek]&c.
But Scaliger was unlucky in his Choice of this particular Comparison: There is a very fine one in the sixth Aeneid, ℣. 707. that better agrees with Homer’s: And nothing is more evident than that the design of these two is very different: Homer intended to describe the Multitude of Greeks pouring out of the Ships, Virgil the Diligence and Labour of the Builders at Carthage. And Macrobius who observes this difference Sat. l. 5. c. 11. should also have found, that therefore the Similes ought not to be compar’d together. The Beauty of Homer’s is not inferior to Virgil’s, if we consider with what Exactness it answers to its end. It consists of three Particulars; the vast Number of the Troops is exprest in the Swarms, their tumultuous manner of issuing out of the Ships, and the perpetual Egression which seem’d without end, are imaged in the Bees pouring out of the Rock; and lastly their Dispersion over all the Shore, in their descending on the Flowers in the Vales. Spondanus was therefore mistaken when he thought the whole Application of this Comparison lay in the single word [Greek], catervatim, as Chapman has justly observ’d.
Note VII.
VERSE 121. Fame flies before. ]
This assembling of the Army is full of Beauties: The lively Description of their overspreading the Field, the noble Boldness of the Figure when Fame is represented in Person shining at their Head, the universal Tumult succeeded by a solemn Silence; and lastly the graceful rising of Agamemnon, all contribute to cast a Majesty on this Part. In the Passage of the Sceptre, Homer has found an artful and poetical manner of acquainting us with the high Descent of Agamemnon, and celebrating the hereditary Right of his Family; as well as finely hinted the Original of his Power to be deriv’d from Heaven, in saying the Sceptre was first the Gift of Jupiter. It is with reference to this that in the Line where he first mentions it, he calls it [Greek], and accordingly it is translated in that Place.
Note VIII.
VERSE 138. And artful thus pronounc’d the Speech design’d. ]
The Remarks of Dionysius upon this Speech I shall give the Reader altogether, tho’ they lie scatter’d in his two Discourses [Greek], the second of which is in a great Degree but a Repetition of the Precepts and Examples of the first. This happen’d, I believe, from his having compos’d them at distinct Times and upon different Occasions.
"It is an exquisite Piece of Art, when you seem to aim at persuading one thing, and at the same time inforce the contrary. This kind of Rhetorick is of great use in all
Occasions of Danger, and is what Homer has afforded a most powerful Example of in the Oration of Agamemnon. ’Tis a Method perfectly wonderful, and even carries in it an Appearance of Absurdity; for all that we generally esteem the Faults of Oratory, by this means become the Virtues of it. Nothing is look’d upon as a greater Error in a Rhetorician than to alledge such Arguments as either are easily answer’d, or may be retorted upon himself, the former is a weak Part, the latter a dangerous one; and Agamemnon here designedly deals in both. For it is plain that if a Man must not use weak Arguments, or such as may make against him, when he intends to persuade the Thing he says; then on the other side, when he does not intend it; he must observe the contrary Proceeding, and make what are the Faults of Oratory in general, the Excellencies of that Oration in particular, or otherwise he will contradict his own Intention and perssuade the contrary to what he means. Agamemnon begins with an Argument easily answer’d, by telling them that Jupiter had promis’d to crown their Arms with Victory. For if Jupiter had promis’d this, it was a reason for the Stay in the Camp. But now (says he) Jove has deceiv’d us, and we must return with Ignominy. This is another of the same kind, for it shews what a Disgrace it is to return. What follows is of the second sort and may be turn’d against him. Jove will have it so: For which they have only Agamemnon’s Word, but Jove’s own Promise for the contrary. That God has overthrown many Cities, and will yet overturn many others. This was a strong Reafon to stay, and put their Confidence in him. It is shameful to have it told to all Posterity that so many thousand Greeks, after a War of so long Continuance, at last return’d home baffled and unsuccessful. All this might have been said by a profest Adversary to the Cause he pleads, and indeed is the same thing Ulysses says elsewhere in Reproach of their Flight. The Conclusion evidently shews the Intent of the Speaker. Haste then, let us fly; [Greek], the Word which of all others was most likely to prevail upon them to stay; the most open Term of Disgrace he could
possibly have us’d: ’Tis the same which Juno makes use of to Minerva, Minerva to Ulysses, and Ulysses again to the Troops, to dissuade their Return; the same which Agamemnon himself had used to insult Achilles, and which Homer never employs but with the Mark of Cowardice and Infamy."
The same Author farther observes,
"That this whole Oration has the Air of being spoken in a Passion. It begins with a Stroke of the greatest Rashness and Impatience. Jupiter has been unjust, Heaven has deceiv’d us. This renders all he shall say of the less Authority, at the same time that it conceals his own Artifice; for his Anger seems to account for the Incongruities he utters."
I could not suppress so fine a Remark, tho’ it falls out of the Order of those which precede it.
Before I leave this Article, I must take notice that this Speech of Agamemnon is again put into his Mouth in the ninth Iliad, and (according to Dionysius ) for the same Purpose, to detain the Army at the Siege after a Defeat; tho’ it seems unartful to put the same Trick twice upon the Greeks by the same Person, and in the same Words too. We may indeed suppose the first Feint to have remain’d undiscover’d, but at best it is a Management in the Poet not very entertaining to the Readers.
Note IX.
VERSE 155. So small their Number, &c.]
This Part has a low Air in Comparison with the rest of the Speech. Scaliger calls it Tabernariam Orationem: But it is well observ’d by Madam Dacier, that the Image Agamemnon here gives of the Trojans, does not only render their Numbers contemptible in Comparison of the Greeks, but their Persons too. For it makes them appear but as a few vile Slaves fit only to serve them with Wine: To which we may add that it affords a Prospect to his Soldiers of their future State and Triumph after the Conquest of their Enemies.
This Passage gives me occasion to animadvert upon a Computation of the Number of the Trojans, which the learned Angelus Politian has offer’d at in his Preface to Homer. He thinks they were fifty thousand without the Auxiliaries, from the Conclusion of the eighth Iliad, where it is said there were a thousand funeral Piles of Trojans, and fifty Men attending each of them. But that the Auxiliaries are to be admitted into that Number appears plainly from this Place: Agamemnon expresly distinguishes the native Trojans from the Aids, and reckons but one to ten Graecians, at which Estimate there could not be above ten thousand Trojans. See the Notes on the Catalogue.
Note X.
VERSE 163. —Decay’d our Vessels lie, And scarce ensure the wretched Power to fly.
This, and some other Passages, are here translated correspondent to the general Air and Sense of this Speech, rather than just to the Letter. The telling them in this Place how much their Shipping was decay’d, was a Hint of their Danger in returning, as Madam Dacier has remark’d.
Note XI.
VERSE 175. So roll the Billows, &c.]
One may take notice that Homer in these two Similitudes has judiciously made choice of the two most wavering and inconstant Things in Nature, to compare with the Multitude; the Waves, and Ears of Corn. The first alludes to the Noise and Tumult of the People, in the breaking and rolling of the Billows; the second to their taking the same Course, like Corn bending one way; and both to the Easiness with which they are mov’d by every Breath.
Note XII.
VERSE 243. To one sole Monarch. ]
Those Persons are under a Mistake who would make this Sentence a Praise of Absolute Monarchy. Homer speaks it only with regard to a General of an Army during the time of his Commission. Nor is Agamemnon styl’d King of Kings in any other Sense, than as the rest of the Princes had given him the supreme Authority over them in the Siege. Aristotle defines a King, [Greek]; Leader of the War, Judge of Controversies, and President of the Ceremonies of the Gods. That he had the principal Care of religious Rites appears from many Places in Homer; and that his Power was no where absolute but in War: for we find Agamemnon insulted in the Council, but in the Army threatning Deserters with Death. He was under an Obligation to preserve the Privileges of his Country, pursuant to which Kings are called by our Author [Greek], and [Greek], the Dispensers or Managers of Justice. And Dionysius of Halicarnassus acquaints us, that the old Graecian Kings, whether Hereditary or Elective, had a Council of their chief Men, as Homer and the most ancient Poets testify; nor was it (he adds) in those Times as in ours, when Kings have a full Liberty to do whatever they please. Dion. Hal. lib. 2. Hist.
Note XIII.
VERSE 255. Thersites only. ]
The Ancients have ascrib’d to Homer the first Sketch of Satyric or Comic Poetry, of which sort was his Poem call’d Margites, as Aristotle reports. Tho’ that Piece be lost, this Character of Thersites may give us a Taste of his Vein in that kind. But whether ludicrous Descriptions ought to have Place in the Epic Poem, has been justly question’d: Neither Virgil nor any of the most approv’d Ancients have thought fit to admit them into their Compositions of that Nature; nor any of the best Moderns except Milton, whose Fondness for Homer might be the reason of it. However this is in its kind a very masterly Part, and our Author has shewn great Judgment in the Particulars he has chosen to compose the Picture of a pernicious Creature of Wit; the chief of which are a Desire of promoting Laughter at any rate, and a Contempt of his Superiors. And he sums up the whole very strongly, by saying that Thersites hated Achilles and Ulysses; in which, as Plutarch has remark’d in his Treatise of Envy and Hatred, he makes it the utmost Completion of an ill Character to bear a Malevolence to the best Men. What is farther observable is, that Thersites is never heard of after this his first Appearance: Such a scandalous Character is to be taken no more notice of, than just to shew that ’tis despised. Homer has observ’d the same Conduct with regard to the most deform’d and most beautiful Person of his Poem: For Nireus is thus mention’d once and no more throughout the Ilaid. He places a worthless Beauty and an ill-natur’d Wit upon the same Foot, and shews that the Gifts of the Body without those of the Mind are not more despicable, than those of the Mind itself without Virtue.
Note XIV.
VERSE 275. Amidst the Glories. ]
’Tis remark’d by Dionysius Halicar. in his Treatise of the Examination of Writers; that there could not be a better Artifice thought on to recal the Army to their Obedience, than this of our Author. When they were offended at their General in favour of Achilles, nothing could more weaken Achilles’s Interest than to make such a Fellow as Thersites appear of his Party, whose Impertinence would give them a Disgust of thinking or acting like him. There is no surer Method to reduce generous Spirits, than to make them see they are pursuing the same Views with People of no Merit, and such whom they cannot forbear despising themselves. Otherwise there is nothing in this Speech but what might become the Mouth of Nestor himself, if you except a word or two. And had Nestor spoken it, the Army had certainly set sail for Greece; but because it was utter’d by a ridiculous Fellow whom they are asham’d to follow, they are reduc’d, and satisfy’d to continue the Siege.
Note XV.
VERSE 284. The Greeks and I. ]
These Boasts of himself are the few Words which Dionysius objects to in the foregoing Passage. I cannot but think the grave Commentators here very much mistaken, who imagine Thersites in earnest in these Vaunts, and seriously reprove his Insolence. They seem to me manifest Strokes of Irony, which had render’d them so much the more improper in the Mouth of Nestor, who was otherwise none of the least Boasters himself. And consider’d as such they are equal to the rest of the Speech, which has an infinite deal of Spirit, Humour, and Satyr.
Note XVI.
VERSE 326. He said, and cow’ring. ]
The vile Figure Thersites makes here is a good Piece of Grotesque; the Pleasure express’d by the Soldiers at this Action of Ulysses (notwithstanding they are disappointed by him of their Hopes of returning) is agreeable to that generous Temper, at once honest and thoughtless, which is commonly found in military Men; to whom nothing is so odious as a Dastard, and who have not naturally the greatest Kindness for a Wit.
Note XVII.
VERSE 348. Unhappy Monarch! &c.]
Quintilian speaking of the various Kinds of Oratory which may be learn’d from Homer, mentions among the greatest Instances the Speeches in this Book. Nonne vel unus liber quo missa ad Achillem legatio continetur, vel in primo inter duces illa contentio, vel dictae in secundo sententiae, omnes litium ac consiliorum explicat artes? Affectus quidem vel illos mites, vel hos concitatos, nemo erit tam indoctus, qui non suâ in potestate hunc autorem habuisse fateatur. It is indeed hardly possible to find any where more refin’d Turns of Policy, or more artful Touches of Oratory. We have no sooner seen Agamemnon excel in one sort, but Ulysses is to shine no less in another directly opposite to it. When the Stratagem of pretending to set sail, had met with too ready a Consent from the People, his Eloquence appears in all the Forms of Art. In his first Speech he had persuaded the Captains with Mildness, telling them the People’s Glory depended upon them, and readily giving a Turn to the first Design, which had like to have been so dangerous, by representing it only as a Project of Agamemnon to discover the cowardly. In his second, he had commanded the Soldiers with Bravery, and made them know what Part they sustain’d in the War. In his third, he had rebuk’d the Seditious in the Person of Thersites, by Reproofs, Threats, and actual Chastisements. And now in this fourth, when all are gather’d he applies to them in Topics which equally affect them all: He raises their Hearts by putting them in mind of the Promises of Heaven, and those Prophecies of which as they had seen the Truth in the nine Years Delay, they might now expect the Accomplishment in the tenth Year’s Success: which is a full Answer to what Agamemnon had said of Jupiter’s deceiving them.
Dionysius observes one singular Piece of Art, in Ulysses’s manner of applying himself to the People when he would insinuate any thing to the Princes, and addressing to the Princes when he would blame the People. He tells the Soldiers, they must not all pretend to be Rulers there, let there be one King, one Lord; which is manifestly a Precept design’d for the Leaders to take to themselves. In the same manner Tiberius Rhetor remarks the beginning of his last Oration to be a fine Ethopopeia or oblique Representation of the People, upon whom the Severity of the Reproach is made to fall, while he seems to render the King an Object of their Pity.
Unhappy Monarch! whom the Graecian Race With Shame deserting, &c.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 402. Then Nestor thus. ]
Nothing is more observable than Homer’s Conduct of this whole Incident; by what judicious and well-imagined Degrees the Army is restrain’d, and wrought up to the Desires of the General. We have given the Detail of all the Methods Ulysses proceeded in: The Activity of his Character is now to be contrasted with the Gravity of Nestor’s, who covers and strengthens the other’s Arguments, and constantly appears thro’ the Poem a weighty Closer of Debates. The Greeks had already seen their General give way to his Authority, in the Dispute with Achilles in the former Book, and could expect no less than that their Stay should be concluded on by Agamemnon as soon as Nestor undertook that Cause. For this was all they imagin’d his Discourse aim’d at; but we shall find it had a farther Design, from Dionysius of Halicarnassus.
"There are two things (says that excellent Critick) worthy of Admiration in the Speeches of Ulysses and Nestor, which are the different Designs they speak with, and the different Applauses they receive. Ulysses has the Acclamations of the Army, and Nestor the Praise of Agamemnon. One may enquire the Reason, why he extols the latter preferably to the former, when all that Nestor alledges seems only a Repetition of the same Arguments which Ulysses had given before him? It might be done in Encouragement to the old Man, in whom it might raise a Concern to find his Speech not follow’d with so general an Applause as the other’s. But we are to refer the Speech of Nestor to that Part of Oratory which seems only to confirm what another has said, and yet superinduces and carries a farther Point. Ulysses and Nestor both compare the Greeks to Children for their unmanly Desire to return home; they both reproach them with the Engagements and Vows they had past, and were now about to break; they both alledge the prosperous Signs and Omens receiv’d from Heaven. Notwithstanding this, the End of their Orations is very different. Ulysses’s Business was to detain the Graecians when they were upon the Point of flying; Nestor finding that Work done to his Hands, design’d to draw them instantly to Battel. This was the utmost Agamemnon had aim’d at, which Nestor’s Artifice brings to pass; for while they imagine by all he says that he is only persuading them to stay, they find themselves unawares put into Order of Battel, and led under their Princes to fight."
Dion. Hal. [Greek]Part 1 and 2.
We may next take notice of some Particulars of this Speech: Where he says they lose their time in empty Words, he hints at the Dispute between Agamemnon and Achilles: Where he speaks of those who deserted the Graecian Cause, he glances at Achilles in particular. When he represents Helen in Affliction and Tears, he removes the Odium from the Person in whose Cause they were to fight; and when he moves Agamemnon to advise with his Council, artfully prepares for a Reception of his own Advice by that modest way of proposing it. As for the Advice itself, to divide the Army into Bodies, each of which should be compos’d entirely of Men of the same Country; nothing could be better judg’d both in regard to the present Circumstance, and with an Eye to the future carrying on of the War. For the first, its immediate Effect was to take the whole Army out of its Tumult, break whatever Cabals they might have form’d together by separating them into a new Division, and cause every single Mutineer to come instantly under the View of his own proper Officer for Correction. For the second, it was to be thought the Army would be much strengthen’d by this Union: Those of different Nations who had different Aims, Interests and Friendships, could not assist each other with so much Zeal or so well concur to the same End, as when Friends aided Friends, Kinsmen their Kinsmen, &c. when each Commander had the Glory of his own Nation in view, and a greater Emulation was excited between Body and Body; as not only warring for the Honour of Greece in general, but for that of every distinct State in particular.
Note XIX.
VERSE 440. How much thy Years excel. ]
Every one has observ’d how glorious an Elogium of Wisdom Homer has here given, where Agamemnon so far prefers it to Valour, as to wish not for ten Ajax’s or Achilles’s but only for ten Nestors. For the rest of this Speech, Dionysius has summ’d it up as follows.
" Agamemnon being now convinc’d the Greeks were offended at him on account of the Departure of Achilles, pacifies them by a generous Confession of his Fault, but then asserts the Character of a supreme Ruler, and with the Air of Command threatens the Disobedient."
I cannot conclude this Part of the Speeches without remarking how beautifully they rise above one another, and how they more and more awaken the Spirit of War in the Graecians. In this last there is a wonderful Fire and Vivacity, when he prepares them for the glorious Toils they were to undergo by a warm and lively Description of them. The Repetition of the Words in that Part has a Beauty, which (as well as many others of the same kind) has been lost by most Translators.
[Greek]—
I cannot but believe Milton had this Passage in his Eye in that of his sixth Book.
—Let each His Adamantine Coat gird well; and each Fit well his Helm, gripe fast his orbed Shield, &c.
Note XX.
VERSE 485. And Menelaus came unbid. ]
The Criticks have enter’d into a warm Dispute, whether Menelaus was in the right or in the wrong, in coming uninvited: Some maintaining it the Part of an Impertinent or a Fool to intrude upon another Man’s Table; and others insisting upon the Privilege a Brother or a Kinsman may claim in this Case. The English Reader had not been troubled with the Translation of this Word [Greek], but that Plato and Plutarch have taken notice of the Passage. The Verse following this in most Editions, [Greek], &c. being rejected as spurious by Demetrius Phalereus, is omitted here upon his Authority.
Note XXI.
VERSE 526. The dreadful Aegis, Jove ’s immortal Shield. ]
Homer does not expresly call it a Shield in this Place, but he does in the fifth Iliad, where this Aegis is describ’d with a Sublimity that is inexpressible. The Figure of the Gorgon’s Head upon it is there specify’d, which will justify the mention of the Serpents in the Translation here: The Verses are remarkably sonorous in the Original. The Image of the Goddess of Battels blazing with her immortal Shield before the Army, inspiring every Heroe, and assisting to range the Troops, is agreeable to the bold Painting of our Author. And the Encouragement of a divine Power seem’d no more than was requisite to change so totally the Dispositions of the Graecians, as to make them now more ardent for the Combate than they were before desirous of a Return. This finishes the Conquest of their Inclinations, in a manner at once wonderfully Poetical, and correspondent to the Moral which is every where spread through Homer, that nothing is entirely brought about but by the divine Assistance.
Note XXII.
VERSE 534. As on some Mountain, &c.]
The Imagination of Homer was so vast and so lively, that whatsoever Objects presented themselves before him impress’d their Images so forcibly, that he pour’d them forth in Comparisons equally simple and noble; without forgetting any Circumstance which could instruct the Reader, and make him see those Objects in the same strong Light wherein he saw them himself. And in this one of the principal Beauties of Poetry consists. Homer, on the sight of the March of this numerous Army, gives us five Similes in a Breath, but all entirely different. The first regards the Splendor of their Armour, As a Fire, &c. The second the various Movements of so many thousands before they can range themselves in Battel-Array, Like the Swans, &c. The third respects their Number, As the Leaves or Flowers, &c. The fourth the Ardour with which they run to the Combate, Like the Legions of Insects, &c. And the fifth the Obedience and exact Discipline of the Troops, ranged without Confusion under their Leaders, As Flocks under their Shepherds. This Fecundity and Variety can never be enough admired. Dacier.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 545. Or milk white Swans on Asius’ watry Plains. ]
Scaliger, who is seldom just to our Author, yet confesses these Verses to be plenissima Nectaris. But he is greatly mistaken when he accuses this Simile of Impropriety, on the Supposition that a Number of Birds flying without Order are here compar’d to an Army ranged in Array of Battel. On the contrary, Homer in this expresses the Stir and Tumult the Troops were in, before they got into Order, running together from the Ships and Tents: [Greek]. But when they are plac’d in their Ranks, he compares them to the Flocks under their Shepherds. This Distinction will plainly appear from the Detail of the five Similes in the foregoing Note.
Virgil has imitated this with great Happiness in his seventh Aeneid.
Ceu quondam nivei liquida inter nubila cycni Cum sese è pastu referunt, & longa canoros Dant per colla modos, sonat amnis & Asia longè Pulsa palus—.
Like a long Team of snowy Swans on high, Which clap their Wings and cleave the liquid Sky, When homeward from their watry Pastures born, They sing, and Asia’s Lakes their Notes return.
Mr. Dryden in this Place has mistaken Asius for Asia, which Virgil took care to distinguish by making the first Syllable of Asius long, as of Asia short. Tho’ (if we believe Madam Dacier ) he was himself in an Error, both here and in the first Georgic.
—Quae Asia circum Dulcibus in stagnis rimantur prata Caystri.
For she will not allow that [Greek]can be a Patronymic Adjective, but the Genitive of a proper Name, [Greek], which being turn’d into Ionic is [Greek], and by a Syncope makes [Greek]. This puts me in mind of another Criticism upon the 290th Verse of this Book: ’Tis observ’d that Virgil uses Inarime for Arime, as if he had read [Greek], instead of [Greek]Scaliger ridicules this trivial Remark, and asks if it can be imagin’d that Virgil was ignorant of the Name of a Place so near him as Baiae? It is indeed unlucky for good Writers, that Men who have Learning should lay a Stress upon such Trifles, and that those who have none should think it Learning to do so.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 552. Or thick as Insects play. ]
This Simile translated literally runs thus; As the numerous Troops of Flies about a Shepherd’s Cottage in the Spring, when the Milk moistens the Pails; such Numbers of Greeks stood in the Field against the Trojans, desiring their Destruction. The Lowness of this Image in Comparison with those which precede it, will naturally shock a modern Critick, and would scarce be forgiven in a Poet of these Times. The utmost a Translator can do is to heighten the Expression, so as to render the Disparity less observable: which is endeavour’d here, and in other Places. If this be done successfully the Reader is so far from being offended at a low Idea, that it raises his Surprize to find it grown great in the Poet’s Hands, of which we have frequent Instances in Virgil’s Georgicks. Here follows another of the same kind, in the Simile of Agamemnon to a Bull just after he has been compar’d to Jove, Mars, and Neptune. This, Eustathius tells us, was blam’d by some Criticks, and Mr. Hobbes has left it out in his Translation. The Liberty has been taken here to place the humbler Simile first, reserving the noble one as a more magnificent Close of the Description: The bare turning the Sentence removes the Objection. Milton who was a close Imitator of our Author, has often copy’d him in these humble Comparisons. He has not scrupled to insert one in the midst of that pompous Description of the Rout of the Rebel-Angels in the sixth Book, where the Son of God in all his dreadful Majesty is represented pouring his Vengeance upon them:
—As a Herd Of Goats, or tim’rous Flocks together throng’d, Drove them before him Thunder-struck—.
Note XXV.
VERSE 568. Great as the Gods. ]
Homer here describes the Figure and Port of Agamemnon with all imaginable Grandeur, in making him appear cloath’d with the Majesty of the greatest of the Gods; and when Plutarch (in his second Oration of the Fortune of Alexander ) blamed the Comparison of a Man to three Deities at once, that Censure was not pass’d upon Homer as a Poet, but by Plutarch as a Priest. This Character of Majesty in which Agamemnon excels all the other Heroes, is preserv’d in the different Views of him throughout the Iliad. It is thus he appears on his Ship in the Catalogue, thus he shines in the Eyes of Priam in the third Book, thus again in the beginning of the thirteenth, and so in the rest.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 572. Say Virgins. ]
It is hard to conceive any Address more solemn, any Opening to a Subject more noble and magnificent, than this Invocation of Homer before his Catalogue. That Omnipresence he gives to the Muses, their Post in the highest Heaven, their comprehensive Survey thro’ the whole Extent of the Creation, are Circumstances greatly imagined. Nor is any thing more perfectly fine or exquisitely moral, than the Opposition of the extensive Knowledge of the Divinities on the one side, to the Blindness and Ignorance of Mankind on the other. The Greatness and Importance of his Subject is highly rais’d by his exalted manner of declaring the Difficulty of it, Not tho’ my Lungs were Brass, &c. and by the Air he gives as if what follows were immediately inspir’d, and no less than the joint Labour of all the Muses.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 586. The hardy Warriors. ]
The Catalogue begins in this Place, which I forbear to treat of at present: only I must acknowledge here that the Translation has not been exactly punctual to the Order in which Homer places his Towns.
However it has not trespass’d against Geography; the Transpositions I mention being no other than such minute ones, as Strabo confesses the Author himself is not free from: [Greek]. Lib. 8. There is not to my Remembrance any Place throughout this Catalogue omitted; a Liberty which Mr. Dryden has made no difficulty to take and to confess, in his Virgil. But a more scrupulous Care was owing to Homer, on account of that wonderful Exactness and unequal’d Diligence, which he has particularly shewn in this Part of his Work.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 649. Down their broad Shoulders, &c.]
The Greek has it [Greek]à tergo comantes. It was the Custom of these People to shave the fore-part of their Heads, which they did that their Enemies might not take the Advantage of seizing them by the Hair: the hinder Part they let grow, as a valiant Race that would never turn their Backs. Their manner of fighting was hand to hand, without quitting their Javelins (in the way of our Pike-men.) Plutarch tells us this in the Life of Theseus, and cites to strengthen the Authority of Homer, some Verses of Archilochus to the same Effect. Eobanus Hessus who translated Homer into Latine Verse was therefore mistaken in his Version of this Passage.
Praecipuè Jaculatores, hastamque periti Vibrare, & longis contingere pectora telis.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 711. Eager and loud from Man to Man he flies. ]
The Figure Menelaus makes in this Place is remarkably distinguish’d from the rest, and sufficient to shew his Concern in the War was personal, while the others acted only for Interest or Glory in general. No Leader in all the List is represented thus eager and passionate; he is louder than them all in his Exhortations; more active in running among the Troops; and inspirited with the Thoughts of Revenge, which he still encreases with the secret Imagination of Helen’s Repentance. This Behaviour is finely imagined.
The Epithet [Greek]which is apply’d in this and other Places to Menelaus, and which literally signifies loud-voiced, is made by the Commentators to mean valiant, and translated bello strenuus. The reason given by Eustathius is, that a loud Voice is a Mark of Strength, the usual Effect of Fear being to cut short the Respiration. I own this seems to be forc’d, and rather believe it was one of those kind of Sir-Names given from some distinguishing Quality of the Person (as that of a loud Voice might belong to Menelaus ) which Mons. Boileau mentions in his ninth Reflection upon Longinus; in the same manner as some of our Kings were called Edward Long-shanks, William Rufus, &c. But however it be, the Epithet taken in the literal Sense has a Beauty in this Verse from the Circumstance Menelaus is described in, which determined the Translator to use it.
Note XXX.
VERSE 746. New to all the Dangers of the Main. ]
The Arcadians being an Inland People were unskill’d in Navigation, for which reason Agamemnon furnish’d them with Shipping. From hence, and from the last Line of the Description of the Sceptre, where he is said to preside over many Islands, Thucydides takes occasion to observe that the Power of Agamemnon was superior to the rest of the Princes of Greece, on account of his Naval Forces, which had render’d him Master of the Sea. Thucyd. lib. 1.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 815. Three Ships with Nireus.]
This Leader is no where mention’d but in these Lines, and is an Exception to the Observation of Macrobius that all the Persons of the Catalogue make their Appearance afterwards in the Poem. Homer himself gives us the reason, because Nireus had but a small Share of Worth and Valour; his Quality only gave him a Privilege to be nam’d among Men. The Poet has caused him to be remember’d no less than Achilles or Ulysses, but yet in no better manner than he deserv’d, whose only Qualification was his Beauty: ’Tis by a bare Repetition of his Name three times, which just leaves some Impression of him on the Mind of the Reader. Many others, of as trivial Memory as Nireus, have been preserv’d by Poets from Oblivion; but few Poets have ever done this Favour to Want of Merit with so much Judgment. Demetrius Phalereus [Greek], Sect. 61. takes notice of this beautiful Repetition, which in a just Deference to so delicate a Critick is here preserv’d in the Translation.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 871. The Grace and Glory of the beauteous Kind. ]
He gives Alcestis this Elogy of the Glory of her Sex, for her conjugal Piety, who dy’d to preserve the Life of her Husband Admetus. Euripides has a Tragedy on this Subject, which abounds in the most masterly Strokes of Tenderness: In particular the first Act, which contains the Description of her Preparation for Death; and her Behaviour in it can never be enough admired.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 906. In twenty Ships the bold Perrhaebians came. ]
I cannot tell whether it be worth observing that, except Ogilby, we have not met with one Translator who has exactly preserv’d the Number of the Ships. Chapman puts eighteen under Eumelus instead of eleven. Hobbes but twenty under Ascalaphus and Ialmen instead of thirty, and but thirty under Menelaus instead of sixty. Valterie (the former French Translator) has given Agapenor forty for sixty, and Nestor forty for ninety. Madam Dacier gives Nestor but eighty. I must confess this Translation not to have been quite so exact as Ogilby’s, having cut off one from the Number of Eumelus’s Ships, and two from those of Guneus: Eleven and two and twenty would sound but oddly in English Verse, and a Poem contracts a Littleness by insisting on such trivial Niceties.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 925. Or rein’d the noblest Steeds. ]
This coupling together the Men and Horses seems odd enough, but Homer every where treats these noble Animals with remarkable Regard. We need not wonder at this Enquiry, which were the best Horses? from him, who makes his Horses of heavenly Extraction as well as his Heroes, who makes his Warriours address them with Speeches and excite them by all those Motives which affect a human Breast, who describes them sheding Tears of Sorrow, and even capable of Voice and Prophecy: In most of which Points Virgil has not scrupled to imitate him.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 939. His Troops, &c.]
The Image in these Lines of the Amusements of the Myrmidons, while Achilles detain’d them from the Fight, has an exquisite Propriety in it. Tho’ they are not in Action, their very Diversions are Military, and a kind of Exercise of Arms. The cover’d Chariot and feeding Horses, make a natural Part of the Picture; and nothing is finer than the manly Concern of the Captains, who as they are suppos’d more sensible of Glory than the Soldiers, take no share in their Diversions, but wander sorrowfully round the Camp, and lament their being kept from the Battel. This difference betwixt the Soldiers and the Leaders (as Dacier observes) is a Decorum of the highest Beauty. Milton has admirably imitated this in the Description he gives in his second Book of the Diversions of the Angels during the Absence of Lucifer.
Part on the Plain, or in the Air sublime, Upon the Wing, or in swift Race contend; Part curb their fiery Steeds, or shun the Goal With rapid Wheels, or fronted Brigades form.
But how nobly and judiciously has he raised the Image, in proportion to the Nature of those more exalted Beings, in that which follows.
Others with vast Typhoean Rage more fell Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air In Whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild Uproar.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 950. As when angry Jove.]
The Comparison preceding this, of a Fire which runs thro’ the Corn and blazes to Heaven, had exprest at once the dazling of their Arms and the Swiftness of their March. After which Homer having mention’d the Sound of their Feet, superadds another Simile, which comprehends both the Ideas of the Brightness and the Noise: for here (says Eustathius ) the Earth appears to burn and groan at the same time. Indeed the first of these Similes is so full and so noble, that it scarce seem’d possible to be exceeded by any Image drawn from Nature. But Homer to raise it yet higher, has gone into the Marvellous, given a prodigious and supernatural Prospect, and brought down Jupiter himself, array’d in all his Terrors, to discharge his Lightnings and Thunders on Typhoeus. The Poet breaks out into this Description with an Air of Enthusiasm, which greatly heightens the Image in general, while it seems to transport him beyond the Limits of an exact Comparison. And this daring manner is particular to our Author above all the Ancients, and to Milton above all the Moderns.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 1012. From Practius’ Stream, Percote ’s Pasture Lands. ]
Homer does not expresly mention Practius as a River, but Strabo, lib. 13. tells us it is to be understood so in this Passage. The Appellative of Pasture Lands to Percote is justify’d in the 15 th Iliad, ℣. 547. where Hicetaon is said to feed his Oxen in that Place.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 1032. Axius, that swells with all his neighb’ring Rills. ]
According to the common Reading this Verse should be translated, Axius that diffuses his beautiful Waters over the Land. But we are assured by Strabo that Axius was a muddy River, and that the Ancients understood it thus, Axius that receives into it several beautiful Rivers. The Criticism lies in the last word of the Verse, [Greek], which Strabo reads [Greek], and interprets of the River Aea, whose Waters were pour’d into Axius. However Homer describes this River agreeable to the vulgar reading in Il. 21. ℣. 158. [Greek]. This Version takes in both.
Note OBSERVATIONS on the CATALOGUE.
IF we look upon this Piece with an Eye to ancient Learning, it may be observ’d that however fabulous the other Parts of Homer’s Poem may be according to the Nature of Epic Poetry, this Account of the People, Princes, and Countries is purely Historical, founded on the real Transactions of those Times, and by far the most valuable Piece of History and Geography left us concerning the State of Greece in that early Period. Greece was then divided into several Dynasties, which our Author has enumerated under their respective Princes; and his Division was look’d upon so exact, that we are told of many Controversies concerning the Boundaries of Graecian Cities which have been decided upon the Authority of this Piece. Eustathius has collected together the following Instances. The City of Calydon was adjudg’d to the Aetolians notwithstanding the Pretensions of Aeolia, because Homer had rank’d it among the Towns belonging to the former. Sestos was given to those of Abydos, upon the Plea that he had said, the Abydonians were Possessors of Sestos, Abydos, and Arisbe. When the Milesians and People of Priene disputed their Claim to Mycale, a Verse of Homer carry’d it in favour of the Milesians. And the Athenians were put in Possession of Salamis by another which was cited by Solon, or (as some think) interpolated by him for that Purpose. Nay in so high Estimation has this Catalogue been held, that (as Porphyry has written) there have been Laws in some Nations for the Youth to learn it by heart, and particularly Cerdias (whom Cuperus de Apoth. Homer. takes to be Cercydas a Law-giver of the Megalopolitans ) made it one to his Countrymen.
But if we consider the Catalogue purely as poetical, it will not want its Beauties in that Light. Rapin who was none of the most superstitious Admirers of our Author, reckons it among those Parts which had particularly charm’d him. We may observe first, what an Air of Probability is spread over the whole Poem by the particularizing of every Nation and People concern’d in this War. Secondly, what an entertaining Scene he presents to us, of so many Countries drawn in their liveliest and most natural Colours, while we wander along with him amidst a beautiful Variety of Towns, Havens, Forests, Vineyards, Groves, Mountains, and Rivers, and are perpetually amus’d with his Observations on the different Soils, Products, Situations, or Prospects. Thirdly, what a noble Review he passes before us of so mighty an Army, drawn out in order Troop by Troop; which had the Number only been told in the Gross, had never fill’d the Reader with so great a Notion of the Importance of the Action. Fourthly, the Description of the differing Arms and manner of fighting of the Soldiers, and the various Attitudes he had given to the Commanders: Of these Leaders, the greatest Part are either the immediate Sons of Gods, or the Descendants of Gods; and how great an Idea must we have of a War, to the waging of which so many Demi-Gods and Heroes are assembled? Fifthly, the several artful Compliments he paid by this means to his own Country in general, and many of his Contemporaries in particular, by a Celebration of the Genealogies, ancient Seats, and Dominions of the great Men of his Time. Sixthly, the agreeable Mixture of Narrations from Passages of History or Fables, with which he amuses and relieves us at proper Intervals. And lastly, the admirable Judgment wherewith he introduces this whole Catalogue, just at a Time when the Posture of Affairs in the Army render’d such a Review of absolute Necessity to the Greeks; and in a Pause of Action, while each was refreshing himself to prepare for the ensuing Battels.
Macrobius in his Saturnalia, lib. 5. cap. 15. has given us a judicious Piece of Criticism, in the Comparison betwixt the Catalogues of Homer and of Virgil, in which he justly allows the Preference to our Author for the following Reasons. Homer (says he) has begun his Description from the most noted Promontory of Greece (he means that of Aulis, where was the narrowest Passage to Euboea. ) From thence with a regular Progress he describes either the maritime or mediterranean Towns as their Situations are contiguous; he never passes with sudden Leaps from Place to Place, omitting those which lie between; but proceeding like a Traveller in the way he has begun, constantly returns to the Place from whence he digress’d, ’till he finishes the whole Circle he design’d. Virgil on the contrary has observ’d no Order in the Regions describ’d in his Catalogue, l. 10. but is perpetually breaking from the Course of the Country in a loose and desultory manner. You have Clusium and Cosae at the beginning, next Populonia and Ilva, then Pisae, which lie at a vast distance in Etruria; and immediately after Cerete, Pyrgi, and Graviscae, Places adjacent to Rome: From hence he is snatch’d to Liguria, then to Mantua. The same Negligence is observable in his Enumeration of the Aids that follow’d Turnus in l. 7. Macrobius next remarks, that whatever Persons are nam’d by Homer in his Catalogue, are afterwards introduc’d in his Battels, and whenever any others are kill’d, he mentions only a Multitude in general. Whereas Virgil (he continues) has spar’d himself the Labour of that Exactness; For not only several whom he mentions in the List are never heard of in the War, but others make a Figure in the War of whom we had no notice in the List. For Example, he specifies a thousand Men under Massicus who came from Clusium, l. 10. ℣. 167. Turnus soon afterwards is in the Ship which had carry’d King Osinius from the same Place, l. 10. ℣. 655. This Osinius was never nam’d before, nor is it probable a King should serve under Massicus. Nor indeed does either Massicus or Osinius ever make their Appearance in the Battels—He proceeds to instance several others, who tho’ celebrated for Heroes in the Catalogue, have no farther notice taken of them throughout the Poem. In the third Place he animadverts upon the Confusion of the same Names in Virgil: As where Corinaeus in the ninth Book is kill’d by Asylas, ℣. 571. and Corinaeus in the twelfth kills Ebusus, ℣. 298. Numa is slain by Nisus, l. 9. ℣. 554. and Aeneas is afterwards in pursuit of Numa, l. 10. ℣. 562. Aeneas kills Camertes in the tenth Book, ℣. 562. and Juturna assumes his Shape in the twelfth, ℣. 224. He observes the same Obscurity in his Patronymics. There is Palinurus Iasides, and Iapix Iasides, Hippocoon Hyrtacides, and Asylas Hyrtacides. On the contrary the Caution of Homer is remarkable, who having two of the Name of Ajax is constantly careful to distinguish them by Oïleus or Telamonius, the lesser or the greater Ajax. I know nothing to be alledg’d in Defence of Virgil, in answer to this Author, but the common Excuse that his Aeneis was left unfinish’d. And upon the whole, these are such trivial Slips as great Wits may pass over, and little Criticks rejoice at.
But Macrobius has another Remark which one may accuse of evident Partiality on the side of Homer. He blames Virgil for having vary’d the Expression in his Catalogue to avoid the Repetition of the same Words, and prefers the bare and unadorn’d Reiterations of Homer; who begins almost every Article the same way, and ends perpetually, [Greek], &c. Perhaps the best reason to be given for this, had been the artless Manner of the first Times, when such Repetitions were not thought ungraceful. This may appear from several of the like Nature in the Scripture; as in the twenty sixth Chapter of Numbers, where the Tribes of Israel are enumerated in the Plains of Moab, and each Division recounted in the same Words. So in the seventh Chapter of the Revelations: Of the Tribe of Gad were sealed twelve thousand, &c. But the Words of Macrobius are Has copias fortasse putat aliquis Divinae illi simplicitati praeferendas. Sed nescio quo modo Homerum repetitio illa unicè decet, & est genio antiqui Poetae digna. This is exactly in the Spirit, and almost in the Cant of a true modern Critick. The Simplicitas, the Nescio quo modo, the Genio antiqui Poetae digna, are excellent general Phrases for those who have no Reasons. Simplicity is our Word of Disguise for a shameful unpoetical Neglect of Expression: The Term of the Je ne sçay quoy is the very Support of all ignorant Pretenders to Delicacy; and to lift up our Eyes, and talk of the Genius of an Ancient, is at once the cheapest way of shewing our own Taste, and the shortest way of criticizing the Wit of others our Contemporaries.
One may add to the foregoing Comparison of these two Authors, some Reasons for the Length of Homer’s, and the Shortness of Virgil’s Catalogues. As, that Homer might have a Design to settle the Geography of his Country, there being no Description of Greece before his Days; which was not the Case with Virgil. Homer’s Concern was to compliment Greece at a time when it was divided into many distinct States, each of which might expect a Place in his Catalogue: But when all Italy was swallow’d up in the sole Dominion of Rome, Virgil had only Rome to celebrate. Homer had a numerous Army, and was to describe an important War with great and various Events; whereas Virgil’s Sphere was much more confined. The Ships of the Greeks are computed at about one thousand two hundred, those of Aeneas and his Aids but at two and forty; and as the Time of the Action of both Poems is the same, we may suppose the Built of their Ships, and the Number of Men they contain’d, to be much alike. So that if the Army of Homer amounts to about a hundred thousand Men, that of Virgil cannot be above four thousand. If any one be farther curious to know upon what this Computation is founded, he may see it in the following Passage of Thucidydes, lib. 1.
" Homer’s Fleet (says he) consisted of one thousand two hundred Vessels: those of the Boeotians carry’d one hundred and twenty Men in each, and those of Philoctetes fifty. By these I suppose Homer exprest the largest and the smallest Size of Ships, and therefore mentions no other sort. But he tells us of those who sail’d
with Philoctetes, that they serv’d both as Mariners and Soldiers, in saying the Rowers were all of them Archers. From hence the whole Number will be seen, if we estimate the Ships at a Medium between the greatest and the least."
That is to say, at eighty five Men to each Vessel (which is the Mean between fifty and a hundred and twenty) the Total comes to a hundred and two thousand Men. Plutarch was therefore in a Mistake when he computed the Men at a hundred and twenty thousand, which proceeded from his supposing a hundred and twenty in every Ship; the contrary to which appears from the above-mention’d Ships of Philoctetes, as well as from those of Achilles, which are said to carry but fifty Men a-piece, in the sixteenth Iliad, ℣. 167.
Besides Virgil’s Imitation of this Catalogue, there has scarce been any Epic Writer but has copy’d after it; which is at least a Proof how beautiful this Part has been ever esteem’d by the finest Genius’s in all Ages. The Catalogues in the ancient Poets are generally known, only I must take notice that the Phocian and Boeotian Towns in the fourth Thebaid of Statius are translated from hence. Of the Moderns, those which most excel, owe their Beauty to the Imitation of some single Particular only of Homer. Thus the chief Grace of Tasso’s Catalogue consists in the Description of the Heroes, without any thing remarkable on the side of the Countries: Of the Pieces of Story he has interwoven, that of Tancred’s Amour to Clorinda is ill placed, and evidently too long for the rest. Spencer’s Enumeration of the British and Irish Rivers in the eleventh Canto of his fourth Book, is one of the noblest in the World; if we consider his Subject was more confined, and can excuse his not observing the Order or Course of the Country; but his Variety of Description, and Fruitfulness of Imagination are no where more admirable than in that Part. Milton’s List of the fallen Angels in his first Book is an exact Imitation of Homer, as far as regards the Digressions of History and Antiquities, and his manner of inserting them: In all else I believe it must be allow’d inferior. And indeed what Macrobius has said to cast Virgil below Homer, will fall much more strongly upon all the rest.
I had some cause to fear that this Catalogue which contributed so much to the Success of the Author, should ruin that of the Translator. A meer heap of proper Names tho’ but for a few Lines together, could afford little Entertainment to an English Reader, who probably could not be appriz’d either of the Necessity or Beauty of this Part of the Poem. There were but two things to be done to give it a chance to please him; to render the Versification very flowing and musical, and to make the whole appear as much a Landscape or Piece of Painting as possible. For both of these I had the Example of Homer in general; and Virgil, who found the Necessity in another Age to give more into Description, seem’d to authorise the latter in particular. Dionysius of Halicarnassus in his Discourse of the Structure and Disposition of Words, professes to admire nothing more than that harmonious Exactness with which Homer has placed these Words, and soften’d the Syllables into each other, so as to derive Musick from a Croud of Names which have in themselves no Beauty or Dignity. I would flatter my self that I have practis’d this not unsuccessfully in our Language, which is more susceptible of all the Variety and Power of Numbers than any of the modern, and second to none but the Greek and Roman. For the latter Point, I have ventured to open the Prospect a little, by the addition of a few Epithets or short Hints of Description to some of the Places mention’d; tho’ seldom exceeding the Compass of half a Verse (the Space to which my Author himself generally confines these Pictures in Miniature.) But this has never been done without the best Authorities from the Ancients, which may be seen under the respective Names in the Geographical Table following.
The Table itself I thought but necessary to annex to the Map, as my Warrant for the Situations assign’d in it to several of the Towns. For in whatever Maps I have seen to this Purpose, many of the Places are omitted, or else set down at random. Sophianus and Gerbelius have labour’d to settle the Geography of old Greece, many of whose Mistakes were rectify’d by Laurenbergius. These however deserv’d a greater Commendation than those who succeeded them; and particularly Sanson’s Map prefix’d to Du Pin’s Bibliotheque Historique is miserably defective both in Omissions and false Placings; which I am obliged to mention, as it pretends to be design’d expresly for this Catalogue of Homer. I am persuaded the greater Part of my Readers will have no Curiosity this way, however they may allow me the Endeavour of gratifying those few who have: The rest are at liberty to pass the two or three following Leaves unread.
Book III THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Armies being ready to engage, a single Combate is agreed upon between Menelaus and Paris (by the Intervention of Hector ) for the Determination of the War. Iris is sent to call Helena to behold the Fight. She leads her to the Walls of Troy, where Priam sate with his Counsellors observing the Graecian Leaders on the Plain below, to whom Helen gives an Account of the chief of them. The Kings on either Part take the solemn Oath for the Conditions of the Combate. The Duel ensues, wherein Paris being overcome is snatch’d away in a Cloud by Venus, and transported to his Apartment. She then calls Helen from the Walls, and brings the Lovers together. Agamemnon on the Part of the Graecians, demands the Restoration of Helen, and the Performance of the Articles. The three and twentieth Day still continues throughout this Book. The Scene is sometimes in the Fields before Troy, and sometimes in Troy itself.
Index to The Argument
- [1-24] Armies deploy; cranes & mist similes
- [25-32] Paris steps forth to challenge
- [33-52] Menelaus sights Paris; Paris shrinks back
- [53-84] Hector’s rebuke of Paris
- [85-108] Paris’ proposal: single combat for Helen
- [109-120] Parley opened; fighting checked
- [121-150] Terms proclaimed; Menelaus accepts and calls for oaths
- [151-164] Arms grounded; heralds dispatched
- [165-182] Iris summons Helen from the loom
- [183-190] Helen goes to the Scaean Gate
- [191-210] Trojan elders’ verdict on Helen
- [211-226] Priam greets Helen; asks her to name the Greek chiefs
- [227-238] Helen identifies Agamemnon
- [239-252] Priam’s Phrygian memory
- [253-264] Who is the organizer?—Helen names Odysseus
- [265-288] Antenor’s embassy tale: Menelaus vs. Odysseus
- [289-298] Priam asks the giant warrior; Helen names Ajax and Idomeneus
- [299-310] Helen notes two missing: the Dioscuri
- [311-314] Narrator’s aside: the Dioscuri are dead
- [315-339] Priam descends to seal the truce
- [340-363] Oath and imprecations: terms set before the gods
- [364-377] Sacrifice and libations; Zeus refuses the prayer
- [378-389] Priam withdraws, unable to watch
- [390-405] Lists enclosed; lots shaken—Paris to throw first
- [406-420] Armies seated; Paris arms in splendor
- [421-424] Menelaus arms for the duel
- [425-430] First cast: Paris’ spear fails
- [431-442] Menelaus’ prayer and cast: spear bites through
- [443-454] Sword-break and outcry
- [455-462] The helmet-drag; Aphrodite snaps the strap
- [463-472] Aphrodite whisks Paris to safety
- [473-486] Aphrodite summons Helen (disguised as her maid)
- [487-506] Helen recognizes and rebukes the goddess
- [507-528] Aphrodite’s threat; Helen yields
- [529-542] In Paris’ chamber: Helen’s scorn
- [543-554] Paris’ reply; love before war
- [555-558] The lovers united
- [559-566] Menelaus’ futile hunt
- [567-576] Agamemnon claims verdict: restore Helen, pay the fine
- [235-238] On the wall: Agamemnon identified
- [261-288] On the wall: Odysseus identified
- [289-298] On the wall: Ajax & Idomeneus identified
- [299-314] On the wall: the absent Dioscuri
- [340-377] Oath ritual: hair, prayer, libation, curse
- [402-405] Lot falls to Paris
- [425-442] The casts exchanged
- [443-472] Sword breaks; helmet-drag; divine rescue
- [1-164] Scene: Plain before Troy—deployment to parley
- [165-190] Scene: Troy—palace & Scaean gate
- [191-314] Scene: Scaean tower—teichoscopia
- [315-389] Scene: Plain—oaths and truce
- [390-442] Scene: Lists—duel prepared and begun
- [443-468] Scene: Lists—crisis and disappearance
- [469-472] Scene: Troy—Paris’ chamber (first)
- [473-528] Scene: Wall & palace—Aphrodite and Helen
- [529-558] Scene: Troy—Paris’ chamber (rejoined)
- [559-576] Scene: Plain—Greek claim of victory
THUS by their Leader’s Care each martial Band
Moves into Ranks, and stretches o’er the Land.
With Shouts the Trojans rushing from afar
Proclaim their Motions, and provoke the War:
So when inclement Winters vex the Plain
With piercing Frosts, or thick-descending Rain,
To warmer Seas the Cranes embody’d fly,
With Noise, and Order, thro’ the mid-way Sky;
To Pygmy-Nations Wounds and Death they bring,
And all the War descends upon the Wing.
But silent, breathing Rage, resolv’d, and skill’d
By mutual Aids to fix a doubtful Field,
Swift march the Greeks: the rapid Dust around
Dark’ning arises from the labour’d Ground.
Thus from his flaggy Wings when Notus sheds
A Night of Vapors round the Mountain-Heads,
Swift-gliding Mists the dusky Fields invade,
To Thieves more grateful than the Midnight Shade;
While scarce the Swains their feeding Flocks survey,
Lost and confus’d amidst the thicken’d Day:
So wrapt in gath’ring Dust, the Grecian Train
A moving Cloud, swept on, and hid the Plain.
Now Front to Front the hostile Armies stand,
Eager of Fight, and only wait Command:
When, to the Van, before the Sons of Fame
Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came:
In Form a God! the Panther’s speckled Hyde
Flow’d o’er his Armour with an easy Pride,
His bended Bow a-cross his Shoulders flung,
His Sword beside him negligently hung,
Two pointed Spears he shook with gallant Grace,
And dar’d the Bravest of the Grecian Race.
As thus with glorious Air and proud Disdain,
He boldly stalk’d, the foremost on the Plain,
Him Menelaus, lov’d of Mars, espies,
With Heart elated, and with joyful Eyes:
So joys a Lion if the branching Deer
Or Mountain Goat, his bulky Prize, appear;
In vain the Youths oppose, the Mastives bay,
The Lordly Savage rends the panting Prey.
Thus fond of Vengeance, with a furious Bound,
In clanging Arms he leaps upon the Ground
From his high Chariot: Him, approaching near,
The beauteous Champion views with Marks of Fear,
Smit with a conscious Sense, retires behind,
And shuns the Fate he well deserv’d to find.
As when some Shepherd from the rustling Trees
Shot forth to View, a scaly Serpent sees;
Trembling and pale, he starts with wild Affright,
And all confus’d, precipitates his Flight.
50So from the King the shining Warrior flies,
And plung’d amid the thickest Trojans lies.
As Godlike Hector sees the Prince retreat,
He thus upbraids him with a gen’rous Heat.
Unhappy Paris! but to Women brave,
So fairly form’d, and only to deceive!
Oh had’st thou dy’d when first thou saw’st the Light,
Or dy’d at least before thy Nuptial Rite!
A better Fate, than vainly thus to boast,
And fly, the Scandal of thy Trojan Host.
Gods! how the scornful Greeks exult to see
Their Fears of Danger undeceiv’d in thee!
Thy Figure promis’d with a martial Air,
But ill thy Soul supplies a Form so fair.
In former Days, in all thy gallant Pride,
When thy tall Ships triumphant stem’d the Tide,
When Greece beheld thy painted Canvas flow,
And Crowds stood wond’ring at the passing Show;
Say, was it thus, with such a baffled Mien,
You met th’ Approaches of the Spartan Queen,
Thus from her Realm convey’d the beauteous Prize,
And both her warlike Lords outshin’d in Helen’s Eyes?
This Deed, thy Foes Delight, thy own Disgrace,
Thy Father’s Grief, and Ruin of thy Race;
This Deed recalls thee to the proffer’d Fight;
Or hast thou injur’d whom thou dar’st not right?
Soon to thy Cost the Field wou’d make thee know
Thou keep’st the Consort of a braver Foe.
Thy graceful Form instilling soft Desire,
Thy curling Tresses, and thy silver Lyre,
Beauty and Youth, in vain to these you trust,
When Youth and Beauty shall be laid in Dust:
Troy yet may wake, and one avenging Blow
Crush the dire Author of his Country’s Woe.
His Silence here, with Blushes, Paris breaks;
’Tis just, my Brother, what your Anger speaks:
But who like thee can boast a Soul sedate,
So firmly Proof to all the Shocks of Fate?
Thy Force like Steel a temper’d Hardness shows,
Still edg’d to wound, and still untir’d with Blows,
Like Steel, uplifted by some strenuous Swain,
With falling Woods to strow the wasted Plain.
Thy Gifts I praise, nor thou despise the Charms
With which a Lover golden Venus arms;
Soft moving Speech, and pleasing outward Show,
No Wish can gain ’em, but the Gods bestow.
Yet, wou’d’st thou have the proffer’d Combate stand,
The Greeks and Trojans seat on either Hand;
Then let a mid-way Space our Hosts divide,
And, on that Stage of War, the Cause be try’d:
100By Paris there the Spartan King be fought,
For beauteous Helen and the Wealth she brought;
And who his Rival can in Arms subdue,
His be the Fair, and his the Treasure too.
Thus with a lasting League your Toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile Fields in Peace;
Thus may the Greeks review their native Shore,
Much fam’d for gen’rous Steeds, for Beauty more.
He said. The Challenge Hector heard with Joy,
Then with his Spear restrain’d the Youth of Troy,
Held by the midst, athwart; and near the Foe
Advanc’d with Steps majestically slow.
While round his dauntless Head the Grecians pour
Their Stones and Arrows in a mingled Show’r.
Then thus the Monarch great Atrides cry’d;
Forbear ye Warriors! lay the Darts aside:
A Parley Hector asks, a Message bears;
We know him by the various Plume he wears.
Aw’d by his high Command the Greeks attend,
The Tumult silence, and the Fight suspend.
While from the Centre Hector rolls his Eyes
On either Host, and thus to both applies.
Hear, all ye Trojans, all ye Grecian Bands!
What Paris, Author of the War, demands.
Your shining Swords within the Sheath restrain,
And pitch your Lances in the yielding Plain.
Here, in the midst, in either Army’s sight,
He dares the Spartan King to single Fight;
And wills, that Helen and the ravish’d Spoil
That caus’d the Contest, shall reward the Toil.
Let these the brave triumphant Victor grace,
And diff’ring Nations part in Leagues of Peace.
He spoke: in still Suspense on either side
Each Army stood: The Spartan Chief reply’d.
Me too ye Warriors hear, whose fatal Right
A World engages in the Toils of Fight.
To me the Labour of the Field resign;
Me Paris injur’d; all the War be mine.
Fall he that must beneath his Rival’s Arms,
And live the rest secure of future Harms.
Two Lambs, devoted by your Country’s Rite,
To Earth a sable, to the Sun a white,
Prepare ye Trojans! while a third we bring
Select to Jove, th’ Inviolable King.
Let rev’rend Priam in the Truce engage,
And add the Sanction of consid’rate Age;
His Sons are faithless, headlong in Debate,
And Youth itself an empty wav’ring State:
Cool Age advances venerably wise,
Turns on all hands its deep-discerning Eyes;
150Sees what befell, and what may yet befall;
Concludes from both, and best provides for all.
The Nations hear, with rising Hopes possest,
And peaceful Prospects dawn in ev’ry Breast.
Within the Lines they drew their Steeds around,
And from their Chariots issu’d on the Ground:
Next all unbuckling the rich Mail they wore,
Lay’d their bright Arms along the sable Shore.
On either side the meeting Hosts are seen,
With Lances fix’d, and close the Space between.
Two Heralds now dispatch’d to Troy, invite
The Phrygian Monarch to the Peaceful Rite;
Talthybius hastens to the Fleet, to bring
The Lamb for Jove th’ Inviolable King.
Meantime, to beauteous Helen from the Skies
The various Goddess of the Rain-bow flies:
(Like fair Laodicè in Form and Face,
The loveliest Nymph of Priam’s Royal Race)
Her in the Palace, at her Loom she found;
The golden Web her own sad Story crown’d,
The Trojan Wars she weav’d (herself the Prize)
And the dire Triumphs of her fatal Eyes.
To whom the Goddess of the painted Bow;
Approach, and view the wond’rous Scene below!
Each hardy Greek and valiant Trojan Knight,
So dreadful late, and furious for the Fight,
Now rest their Spears, or lean upon their Shields;
Ceas’d is the War, and silent all the Fields.
Paris alone and Sparta’s King advance,
In single Fight to toss the beamy Lance;
Each met in Arms the Fate of Combate tries,
Thy Love the Motive, and thy Charms the Prize.
This said, the many-colour’d Maid inspires
Her Husband’s Love, and wakes her former Fires;
Her Country, Parents, all that once were dear,
Rush to her Thought, and force a tender Tear.
O’er her fair Face a snowy Veil she threw,
And, softly sighing, from the Loom withdrew.
Her Handmaids Clymenè and Aethra wait
Her silent Footsteps to the Scaean Gate.
There sate the Seniors of the Trojan Race,
(Old Priam’s Chiefs, and most in Priam’s Grace)
The King the first; Thymaetes at his side;
Lampus and Clytius, long in Council try’d;
Panthus, and Hicetäon, once the strong,
And next the wisest of the Rev’rend Throng,
Antenor grave, and sage Ucalegon,
Lean’d on the Walls, and bask’d before the Sun.
Chiefs, who no more in bloody Fights engage,
But Wise thro’ Time, and Narrative with Age,
200In Summer-Days like Grashoppers rejoice,
A bloodless Race, that send a feeble Voice.
These, when the Spartan Queen approach’d the Tow’r,
In secret own’d resistless Beauty’s Pow’r:
They cry’d, No wonder such Celestial Charms
For nine long Years have set the World in Arms;
What winning Graces! what majestick Mien!
She moves a Goddess, and she looks a Queen!
Yet hence oh Heav’n! convey that fatal Face,
And from Destruction save the Trojan Race.
The good old Priam welcom’d her, and cry’d,
Approach my Child, and grace thy Father’s Side.
See on the Plain thy Grecian Spouse appears,
The Friends and Kindred of thy former Years.
No Crime of thine our present Suff’rings draws,
Not Thou, but Heav’ns disposing Will, the Cause;
The Gods these Armies and this Force employ,
The hostile Gods conspire the Fate of Troy.
But lift thy Eyes, and say, What Greek is He
(Far as from hence these aged Orbs can see)
Around whose Brow such martial Graces shine,
So tall, so awful, and almost Divine?
Tho’ some of larger Stature tread the Green,
None match his Grandeur and exalted Mien:
He seems a Monarch, and his Country’s Pride.
Thus ceas’d the King, and thus the Fair reply’d.
Before thy Presence, Father, I appear
With conscious Shame and reverential Fear.
Ah! had I dy’d, e’re to these Walls I fled,
False to my Country and my Nuptial Bed,
My Brothers, Friends, and Daughter left behind,
False to them all, to Paris only kind!
For this I mourn, ’till Grief or dire Disease
Shall waste the Form whose Crime it was to please!
The King of Kings, Atrides, you survey,
Great in the War, and great in Arts of Sway.
My Brother once, before my Days of Shame;
And oh! that still he bore a Brother’s Name!
With Wonder Priam view’d the Godlike Man,
Extoll’d the happy Prince, and thus began.
O blest Atrides! born to prosp’rous Fate,
Successful Monarch of a mighty State!
How vast thy Empire? Of yon’ matchless Train
What Numbers lost, what Numbers yet remain?
In Phrygia once were gallant Armies known,
In ancient Time, when Otreus’ fill’d the Throne,
When Godlike Mygdon led their Troops of Horse,
And I, to join them, rais’d the Trojan Force:
Against the Manlike Amazons we stood,
And Sangar’s Stream ran purple with their Blood.
250But far inferior those, in manly Grace
And Strength of Numbers, to this Grecian Race.
This said, once more he view’d the martial Train:
What’s He, whose Arms lie scatter’d on the Plain?
Broad is his Breast, his Shoulders larger spread,
Tho’ great Atrides overtops his Head.
Nor yet appear his Care and Conduct small;
From Rank to Rank he moves, and orders all.
The stately Ram thus measures o’er the Ground,
And, Master of the Flocks, surveys them round.
Then Helen thus. Whom your discerning Eyes
Have singled out, is Ithacus the Wife:
A barren Island boasts his glorious Birth;
His Fame for Wisdom fills the spacious Earth.
Antenor took the Word, and thus began:
My self, O King! have seen that wondrous Man;
When trusting Jove and hospitable Laws,
To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian Cause;
(Great Menelaus urg’d the same Request)
My House was honour’d with each Royal Guest:
I knew their Persons, and admir’d their Parts,
Both brave in Arms, and both approv’d in Arts.
Erect, the Spartan most engag’d our View,
Ulysses seated, greater Rev’rence drew.
When Atreus’ Son harangu’d the list’ning Train,
Just was his Sense, and his Expression plain,
His Words succinct, yet full, without a Fault;
He spoke no more than just the Thing he ought.
But when Ulysses rose, in Thought profound,
His modest Eyes he fix’d upon the Ground,
As one unskill’d or dumb, he seem’d to stand,
Nor rais’d his Head, nor stretch’d his sceptred Hand;
But, when he speaks, what Elocution flows!
Soft as the Fleeces of descending Snows
The copious Accents fall, with easy Art;
Melting they fall, and sink into the Heart!
Wond’ring we hear, and fix’d in deep Surprize
Our Ears refute the Censure of our Eyes.
The King then ask’d (as yet the Camp he view’d)
What Chief is that with Giant Strength endu’d,
Whose brawny Shoulders, and whose swelling Chest,
And lofty Stature far exceed the rest?
Ajax the great (the beauteous Queen reply’d)
Himself an Host: the Grecian Strength and Pride.
See! bold Idomeneus superior tow’rs
Amidst yon’ Circle of his Cretan Pow’rs,
Great as a God! I saw him once before,
With Menelaus, on the Spartan Shore.
The rest I know, and could in Order name;
All valiant Chiefs, and Men of mighty Fame.
300Yet two are wanting of the num’rous Train,
Whom long my Eyes have sought, but sought in vain;
Castor and Pollux, first in martial Force,
One bold on Foot, and one renown’d for Horse.
My Brothers these; the same our native Shore,
One House contain’d us, as one Mother bore.
Perhaps the Chiefs, from warlike Toils at ease,
For distant Troy refus’d to sail the Seas:
Perhaps their Sword some nobler Quarrel draws,
Asham’d to combate in their Sister’s Cause.
So spoke the Fair, nor knew her Brothers Doom,
Wrapt in the cold Embraces of the Tomb;
Adorn’d with Honours in their native Shore,
Silent they slept, and heard of Wars no more.
Meantime the Heralds, thro’ the crowded Town,
Bring the rich Wine and destin’d Victims down.
Idaeus’ Arms the golden Goblets prest,
Who thus the venerable King addrest.
Arise, O Father of the Trojan State!
The Nations call, thy joyful People wait,
To seal the Truce and end the dire Debate.
Paris thy Son, and Sparta’s King advance,
In measur’d Lists to toss the weighty Lance;
And who his Rival shall in Arms subdue,
His be the Dame, and his the Treasure too.
Thus with a lasting League our Toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile Fields in Peace;
So shall the Greeks review their native Shore,
Much fam’d for gen’rous Steeds, for Beauty more.
With Grief he heard, and bade the Chiefs prepare
To join his milk-white Coursers to the Car:
He mounts the Seat, Antenor at his side;
The gentle Steeds thro’ Scaea’s Gates they guide:
Next from the Car descending on the Plain,
Amid the Grecian Host and Trojan Train
Slow they proceed: The sage Ulysses then
Arose, and with him rose the King of Men.
On either side a sacred Herald stands,
The Wine they mix, and on each Monarch’s Hands
Pour the full Urn; Then drew the Grecian Lord
His Cutlace sheath’d beside his pondrous Sword.
From the sign’d Victims crops the curling Hair,
The Heralds part it, and the Princes share;
Then loudly thus before th’ attentive Bands
He calls the Gods, and spreads his lifted Hands.
O first and greatest Pow’r! whom all obey,
Who high on Ida’s holy Mountain sway,
Eternal Jove! and you bright Orb that roll
From East to West, and view from Pole to Pole!
Thou Mother Earth! and all ye living Floods!
350Infernal Furies, and Tartarean Gods,
Who rule the Dead, and horrid Woes prepare
For perjur’d Kings, and all who falsely swear!
Hear, and be Witness. If, by Paris slain,
Great Menelaus press the fatal Plain;
The Dame and Treasures let the Trojan keep,
And Greece returning plow the watry Deep.
If by my Brother’s Lance the Trojan bleed;
Be his the Wealth and beauteous Dame decreed:
Th’ appointed Fine let Ilion justly pay,
And ev’ry Age record the signal Day.
This if the Phrygians shall refuse to yield,
Arms must revenge, and Mars decide the Field.
With that, the Chief the tender Victims slew,
And in the Dust their bleeding Bodies threw,
The vital Spirit issu’d at the Wound,
And left the Members quiv’ring on the Ground.
From the same Urn they drink the mingled Wine,
And add Libations to the Pow’rs Divine.
While thus their Pray’rs united mount the Sky;
Hear mighty Jove! and hear ye Gods on high!
And may their Blood who first the League confound,
Shed like this Wine, distain the thirsty Ground;
May all their Consorts serve promiscuous Lust,
And all their Race be scatter’d as the Dust!
Thus either Host their Imprecations join’d,
Which Jove refus’d, and mingled with the Wind.
The Rites now finish’d, rev’rend Priam rose,
And thus express’d a Heart o’ercharg’d with Woes.
Ye Greeks and Trojans, let the Chiefs engage,
But spare the Weakness of my feeble Age:
In yonder Walls that Object let me shun,
Nor view the Danger of so dear a Son.
Whose Arms shall conquer, and what Prince shall fall,
Heav’n only knows, for Heav’n disposes all.
This said, the hoary King no longer stay’d,
But on his Car the slaughter’d Victims laid,
Then seiz’d the Reins his gentle Steeds to guide,
And drove to Troy, Antenor at his Side.
Bold Hector and Ulysses now dispose
The Lists of Combate, and the Ground inclose;
Next to decide by sacred Lots prepare,
Who first shall launce his pointed Spear in Air.
The People pray with elevated Hands,
And Words like these are heard thro’ all the Bands.
Immortal Jove! high Heav’n’s superior Lord,
On lofty Ida’s holy Mount ador’d!
Whoe’er involv’d us in this dire Debate,
Oh give that Author of the War to Fate,
And Shades Eternal! Let Division cease,
400And joyful Nations join in Leagues of Peace.
With Eyes averted Hector hasts to turn
The Lots of Fight, and shakes the brazen Urn.
Then Paris, thine leap’d forth, by fatal Chance
Ordain’d the first to whirl the weighty Lance.
Both Armies sate, the Combate to survey,
Beside each Chief his Azure Armour lay,
And round the Lists the gen’rous Coursers neigh.
The beauteous Warrior now arrays for Fight,
In gilded Arms magnificently bright:
The Purple Cuishes clasp his Thighs around,
With Flow’rs adorn’d, and silver Buckles bound:
Lycaon’s Cors’let his fair Body drest,
Brac’d in, and fitted to his softer Breast;
A radiant Baldric, o’er his Shoulder ty’d,
Sustains the Sword that glitters at his side.
His youthful Face a polish’d Helm o’erspread;
The waving Horse-hair nodded on his Head.
His figur’d Shield, a shining Orb, he takes,
And in his Hand a pointed Jav’lin shakes.
With equal Speed, and fir’d by equal Charms,
The Spartan Hero sheaths his Limbs in Arms.
Now round the Lists th’ admiring Armies stand,
With Jav’lins fix’d, the Greek and Trojan Band.
Amidst the dreadful Vale the Chiefs advance,
All pale with Rage, and shake the threat’ning Lance.
The Trojan first his shining Jav’lin threw;
Full on Atrides’ ringing Shield it flew,
Nor pierc’d the brazen Orb, but with a Bound
Leap’d from the Buckler blunted on the Ground.
Atrides then his massy Lance prepares,
In Act to throw, but first prefers his Pray’rs.
Give me, great Jove! to punish lawless Lust,
And lay the Trojan gasping in the Dust:
Destroy th’ Aggressor, aid my righteous Cause,
Avenge the Breach of hospitable Laws!
Let this Example future Times reclaim,
And guard from Wrong fair Friendship’s holy Name.
He said, and poiz’d in Air the Jav’lin sent,
Thro’ Paris’ Shield the forceful Weapon went,
His Cors’let pierces, and his Garment rends,
And glancing downward, near his Flank descends.
The wary Trojan, bending from the Blow,
Eludes his Death, and disappoints the Foe:
But fierce Atrides wav’d his Sword and strook
Full on his Casque; the crested Helmet shook;
The brittle Steel, unfaithful to his Hand,
Broke short: the Fragments glitter’d on the Sand.
The raging Warrior to the spacious Skies
Rais’d his upbraiding Voice, and angry Eyes:
450Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust?
And is it thus the Gods assist the Just?
When Crimes provoke us, Heav’n Success denies;
The Dart falls harmless, and the Faulchion flies.
Furious he said, and tow’rd the Grecian Crew
(Seiz’d by the Crest) th’ unhappy Warrior drew;
Struggling he follow’d, while th’ embroider’d Thong
That ty’d his Helmet, dragg’d the Chief along.
Then had his Ruin crown’d Atrides’ Joy,
But Venus trembl’d for the Price of Troy:
Unseen she came, and burst the golden Band;
And left an empty Helmet in his Hand.
The Casque, enrag’d, amidst the Greeks he threw;
The Greeks with Smiles the polish’d Trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly Dart,
In Thirst of Vengeance, at his Rival’s Heart,
The Queen of Love her favour’d Champion shrouds
(For Gods can all things) in a Veil of Clouds.
Rais’d from the Field the panting Youth she led,
And gently laid him on the Bridal Bed,
With pleasing Sweets his fainting Sense renews,
And all the Dome perfumes with Heav’nly Dews.
Meantime the brightest of the Female Kind,
The matchless Helen o’er the Walls reclin’d:
To her, beset with Trojan Beauties, came
In Groea’s Form, the Laughter-loving Dame.
( Groea, her Fav’rite Maid, well-skill’d to cull
The snowie Fleece, and wind the twisted Wool.)
The Goddess softly shook her silken Vest
That shed Perfumes, and whisp’ring thus addrest.
Haste, happy Nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the Fight, in yonder lofty Walls,
Fair as a God with Odours round him spread
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known Bed:
Not like a Warrior parted from the Foe,
But some gay Dancer in the publick Show.
She spoke, and Helen’s secret Soul was mov’d;
She scorn’d the Champion, but the Man she lov’d.
Fair Venus’ Neck, her Eyes that sparkled Fire,
And Breast, reveal’d the Queen of soft Desire.
Struck with her Presence, strait the lively Red
Forsook her Cheek; and, trembling, thus she said.
Then is it still thy Pleasure to deceive?
And Woman’s Frailty always to believe?
Say, to new Nations must I cross the Main,
Or carry Wars to some soft Asian Plain?
For whom must Helen break her second Vow?
What other Paris is thy Darling now?
Left to Atrides, (Victor in the Strife)
An odious Conquest and a Captive Wife,
500Hence let me sail: And if thy Paris bear
My Absence ill, let Venus ease his Care.
A Hand-maid Goddess at his Side to wait,
Renounce the Glories of thy Heav’nly State,
Be fix’d for ever to the Trojan Shore,
His Spouse, or Slave; and mount the Skies no more.
For me, to lawless Love no longer led,
I scorn the Coward, and detest his Bed;
Else should I merit everlasting Shame,
And keen Reproach, from ev’ry Phrygian Dame:
Ill suits it now the Joys of Love to know,
Too deep my Anguish, and too wild my Woe.
Then thus, incens’d, the Paphian Queen replies;
Obey the Pow’r from whom thy Glories rise:
Should Venus leave thee, ev’ry Charm must fly,
Fade from thy Cheek, and languish in thy Eye.
Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more
The World’s Aversion, than their Love before;
Now the bright Prize for which Mankind engage,
Then, the sad Victim of the Publick Rage.
At this, the Fairest of her Sex obey’d,
And veil’d her Blushes in a silken Shade;
Unseen, and silent, from the Train she moves,
Led by the Goddess of the Smiles and Loves.
Arriv’d, and enter’d at the Palace Gate,
The Maids officious round their Mistress wait,
Then all dispersing, various Tasks attend;
The Queen and Goddess to the Prince ascend.
Full in her Paris’ Sight the Queen of Love
Had plac’d the beauteous Progeny of Jove;
Where, as he view’d her Charms, she turn’d away
Her glowing Eyes, and thus began to say.
Is this the Chief, who lost to Sense of Shame
Late fled the Field, and yet survives his Fame?
Oh hadst thou dy’d beneath the righteous Sword
Of that brave Man whom once I call’d my Lord!
The Boaster Paris oft’ desir’d the Day
With Sparta’s King to meet in single Fray:
Go now, once more thy Rival’s Rage excite,
Provoke Atrides and renew the Fight:
Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill’d
Should’st fall an easy Conquest on the Field.
The Prince replies; Ah cease, divinely fair,
Nor add Reproaches to the Wounds I bear,
This Day the Foe prevail’d by Pallas’ Pow’r;
We yet may vanquish in a happier Hour:
There want not Gods to favour us above;
But let the Business of our Life be Love:
These softer Moments let Delights employ,
And kind Embraces snatch the hasty Joy.
550Not thus I lov’d thee, when from Sparta’s Shore
My forc’d, my willing Heav’nly Prize I bore,
When first entranc’d in Cranaë’s Isle I lay,
Mix’d with thy Soul, and all dissolv’d away.
Thus having spoke, th’ enamour’d Phrygian Boy
Rush’d to the Bed, impatient for the Joy.
Him Helen follow’d slow with bashful Charms,
And clasp’d the blooming Hero in her Arms.
While these to Love’s delicious Rapture yield,
The stern Atrides rages round the Field:
So some fell Lion whom the Woods obey,
Roars thro’ the Desart, and demands his Prey.
Paris he seeks, impatient to destroy,
But seeks in vain along the Troops of Troy;
Ev’n those had yielded to a Foe so brave
The recreant Warrior, hateful as the Grave.
Then speaking thus the King of Kings arose;
Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our gen’rous Foes!
Hear and attest! From Heav’n with Conquest crown’d,
Our Brother’s Arms the just Success have found:
Be therefore now the Spartan Wealth restor’d,
Let Argive Helen own her lawful Lord,
Th’ appointed Fine let Ilion justly pay,
And Age to Age record this signal Day.
He ceas’d; His Army’s just Applauses rise,
And the long Shout runs ecchoing thro’ the Skies.
Observations on the 3rd Book
Notes Index
Note I.
VERSE 3. With Shouts the Trojans.]
The Book begins with a fine Opposition of the Noise of the Trojan Army to the Silence of the Graecians. It was but natural to imagine this, since the former was compos’d of many different Nations, of various Languages and Strangers to each other; the latter were more united in their Neighbourhood, and under Leaders of the same Country. But as this Observation seems particularly insisted upon by our Author (for he uses it again in the fourth Book, ℣. 430.) so he had a farther Reason for it. Plutarch in his Treatise of reading the Poets, remarks upon this Distinction, as a particular Credit to the military Discipline of the Greeks. And several ancient Authors tell us, it was the Manner of the Barbarians to encounter with Shouts and Outcries; as it continues to this Day the Custom of the Eastern Nations. Perhaps these Clamours were only to encourage their Men, instead of martial Instruments. I think Sir Walter Raleigh says, there never was a People but made use of some sort of Musick in Battel: Homer never mentions any in the Greek or Trojan Armies, and it is scarce to be imagined he would omit a Circumstance so poetical without some particular Reason. The Verb [Greek]which the modern Greeks have since appropriated to the sound of a Trumpet, is used indifferently in our Author for other Sounds, as for Thunder in the the 21 st Iliad, ℣. 388. [Greek]—. He once names the Trumpet [Greek]in a Simile, upon which Eustathius and Didymus observe that the use of it was known in the Poet’s Time, but not in that of the Trojan War. And hence we may infer that Homer was particularly careful not to confound the Manners of the Times he wrote of, with those of the Times he liv’d in.
Note II.
VERSE 7. The Cranes embody’d fly. ]
If Wit has been truly describ’d to be a Similitude in Ideas, and is more excellent as that Similitude is more surprizing; there cannot be a truer kind of Wit than what is shewn in apt Comparisons, especially when composed of such Subjects as having the least Relation to each other in general, have yet some Particular that agrees exactly. Of this Nature is the Simile of the Cranes to the Trojan Army, where the Fancy of Homer flew to the remotest Part of the World for an Image which no Reader could have expected. But it is no less exact than surprizing. The Likeness consists in two Points, the Noise and the Order; the latter is so observable as to have given some of the Ancients occasion to imagine the embatteling of an Army was first learn’d from the close manner of Flight of these Birds. But this Part of the Simile not being directly express’d by the Author, has been overlook’d by some of the Commentators. It may be remark’d that Homer has generally a wonderful Closeness in all the Particulars of his Comparisons, notwithstanding he takes a Liberty in his Expression of them. He seems so secure of the main Likeness, that he makes no scruple to play with the Circumstances; sometimes by transposing the Order of them, sometimes by super-adding them, and sometimes (as in this Place) by neglecting them in such a manner as to leave the Reader to supply them himself. For the present Comparison, it has been taken by Virgil in the tenth Book, and apply’d to the Clamours of Soldiers in the same manner.
—Quales sub nubibus atris Strymoniae dant signa grues, atque aethera tranant Cum sonitu, fugiuntque Notos clamore secundo.
Note III.
VERSE 26. The beauteous Paris came, In Form a God. ]
This is meant by the Epithet [Greek], as has been said in the 24 th Note on the first Book. The Picture here given of Paris’s Air and Dress, is exactly correspondent to his Character; you see him endeavouring to mix the fine Gentleman with the Warriour; and this Idea of him Homer takes care to keep up, by describing him not without the same Regard when he is arming to encounter Menelaus afterwards in a close Fight, as he shews here where he is but preluding and flourishing in the Gaiety of his Heart. And when he tells us in that Place that he was in danger of being strangled by the Strap of his Helmet, he takes notice that it was [Greek]embroider’d.
Note IV.
VERSE 37. So joys a Lion if the branching Deer, Or Mountain Goat. ]
The old Scholiasts refining on this Simile will have it that Paris is compar’d to a Goat on account of his Incontinence, and to a Stag for his Cowardice: To this last they make an Addition which is very ludicrous, that he is also liken’d to a Deer for his Skill in Musick, and cite Aristotle to prove that Animal delights in Harmony, which Opinion is alluded to by Mr. Waller in these Lines,
Here Love takes stand, and while she charms the Ear Empties his Quiver on the list’ning Deer.
But upon the whole, it is whimsical to imagine this Comparison consists in any thing more, than the Joy which Menelaus conceiv’d at the sight of his Rival, in the hopes of destroying him. It is equally an Injustice to Paris, to abuse him for understanding Musick, and to represent his Retreat as purely the Effect of Fear, which proceeded from his Sense of Guilt with respect to the particular Person of Menelaus. He appear’d at the Head of the Army to challenge the boldest of the Enemy: Nor is his Character elsewhere in the Iliad by any means that of a Coward. Hector at the end of the sixth Book confesses, that no Man could justly reproach him as such. Nor is he represented so by Ovid (who copy’d Homer very closely) in the end of his Epistle to Helen. The Moral of Homer is much finer: A brave Mind however blinded with Passion is sensible of Remorse as soon as the injur’d Object presents itself; and Paris never behaves himself ill in War, but when his Spirits are depress’d by the Consciousness of an Injustice. This also will account for the seeming Incongruity of Homer in this Passage, who (as they would have us think) paints him a shameful Coward, at the same time that he is perpetually calling him the divine Paris, and Paris like a God. What he says immediately afterwards in answer to Hector’s Reproof, will make this yet more clear.
Note V.
VERSE 47. As when a Shepherd. ]
This Comparison of the Serpent is finely imitated by Virgil in the second Aeneid.
Improvisum aspris veluti qui sentibus anguem Pressit humi nitens, trepidus{que} repentè refugit Attollentem iras, & caerula colla tumentem: Haud secus Androgeus visu tremefaclus abibat.
But it may be said to the Praise of Virgil, that he has apply’d it upon an Occasion where it has an additional Beauty. Paris upon the sight of Menelaus’s Approach, is compar’d to a Traveller who sees a Snake shoot on a sudden towards him. But the Surprize and Danger of Androgeus is more lively, being just in the reach of his Enemies before he perceiv’d it; and the Circumstance of the Serpent’s rouzing his Crest, which brightens with Anger, finely images the shining of their Arms in the Night-time, as they were just lifted up to destroy him. Scaliger criticizes on the needless Repetition in the Words [Greek]and [Greek], which is avoided in the Translation. But it must be observ’d in general, that little Exactnesses are what we should not look for in Homer; the Genius of his Age was too incorrect, and his own too fiery to regard them.
Note VI.
VERSE 53. As God-like Hector.]
This is the first Place of the Poem where Hector makes a figure, and here it seems proper to give an Idea of his Character, since if he is not the chief Heroe of the Iliad, he is at least the most amiable. There are several Reasons which render Hector a favorite Character with every Reader, some of which shall here be offer’d. The chief Moral of Homer was to expose the ill Effects of Discord; the Greeks were to be shewn disunited, and to render that Disunion the more probable, he has designedly given them mixt Characters. The Trojans on the other hand were to be represented making all Advantages of the others Disagreement, which they could not do without a strict Union among themselves. Hector therefore who commanded them, must be endu’d with all such Qualifications as tended to the Preservation of it; as Achilles with such as promoted the contrary. The one stands in Contraste to the other, an accomplish’d Character of Valour unruffled by Rage and Anger, and uniting his People by his Prudence and Example. Hector has also a Foil to set him off in his own Family; we are perpetually opposing in our Minds the Incontinence of Paris, who exposes his Country, to the Temperance of Hector who protects it. And indeed it is this Love of his Country which appears his principal Passion, and the Motive of all his Actions. He has no other Blemish than that he fights in an unjust Cause, which Homer has yet been careful to tell us he would not do, if his Opinion were followed. But since he cannot prevail, the Affection he bears to his Parents and Kindred, and his desire of defending them, incites him to do his utmost for their Safety. We may add that Homer having so many Greeks to celebrate, makes them shine in their turns, and singly in their several Books, one succeeding in the Absence of another: Whereas Hector appears in every Battel the Life and Soul of his Party, and the constant Bulwark against every Enemy: He stands against Agamemnon’s Magnanimity, Diomed’s Bravery, Ajax’s Strength, and Achilles’s Fury. There is besides, an accidental Cause for our liking him from reading the Writers of the Augustan Age, especially Virgil, whose Favorite he grew more particularly from the time when the Caesars fancy’d to derive their Pedigree from Troy.
Note VII.
VERSE 55. Unhappy Paris, &c. ]
It may be observ’d in Honour of Homer’s Judgment, that the Words which Hector is made to speak here, very strongly mark his Character. They contain a warm Reproach of Cowardice, and shew him to be touch’d with so high a Sense of Glory, as to think Life insupportable without it. His calling to mind the gallant Figure which Paris had made in his Amours to Helen, and opposing to it the Image of his Flight from her Husband, is a Sarcasm of the utmost Bitterness and Vivacity. After he has named that Action of the Rape, the Cause of so many Mischiefs, his insisting upon it in so many broken Periods, those disjointed Shortnesses of Speech,
( [Greek])
That hasty manner of Expression without the Connexion of Particles, is (as Eustathius remarks) extreamly natural to a Man in Anger, who thinks he can never vent himself too soon. That Contempt of outward Shew, of the Gracefulness of Person, and of the Accomplishments of a Courtly Life, is what corresponds very well with the War-like Temper of Hector; and these Verses have therefore a Beauty here which they want in Horace, however admirably he has translated them, in the Ode of Nireus’s Prophecy.
Nequicquam Veneris praesidio ferox, Pectes caesariem; grataque foeminis Imbelli citharâ carmina divides, &c.
Note VIII.
VERSE 72. And both her Warlike Lords. ]
The Original is [Greek]The Spouse of Martial Men. I wonder why Madam Dacier chose to turn it Alliée à tant de braves guerriers, since it so naturally refers to Theseus and Menelaus, the former Husbands of Helena.
Note IX.
VERSE 80. Thy curling Tresses, and thy silver Lyre. ]
It is ingeniously remark’d by Dacier, that Homer who celebrates the Greeks for their long Hair [ [Greek]] and Achilles for his Skill on the Harp, makes Hector in this Place object them both to Paris. The Greeks nourished their Hair to appear more dreadful to the Enemy, and Paris to please the Eyes of Women. Achilles sung to his Harp the Acts of Heroes, and Paris the Amours of Lovers. The same reason which makes Hector here displeas’d at them, made Alexander afterwards refuse to see this Lyre of Paris when offer’d to be shewn to him, as Plutarch relates the Story in his Oration of the Fortune of Alexander.
Note X.
VERSE 83. One avenging Blow. ]
It is in the Greek, You had been clad in a Coat of Stone. Giphanius would have it to mean stoned to death on the account of his Adultery: But this does not appear to have been the Punishment of that Crime among the Phrygians. It seems rather to signify, destroy’d by the Fury of the People for the War he had brought upon them; or perhaps may imply no more than being laid in his Grave under a Monument of Stones; but the former being the stronger Sense is here followed.
Note XI.
VERSE 86. ’Tis just, my Brother. ]
This Speech is a farther opening of the true Character of Paris. He is a Master of Civility, no less well-bred to his own Sex than courtly to the other. The Reproof of Hector was of a severe Nature, yet he receives it as from a Brother and a Friend, with Candour and Modesty. This Answer is remarkable for its fine Address; he gives the Heroe a decent and agreeable Reproof for having too rashly depreciated the Gifts of Nature. He allows the Quality of Courage its utmost due, but desires the same Justice to those softer Accomplishments, which he lets him know are no less the Favour of Heaven. Then he removes from himself the Charge of want of Valour, by proposing the single Combate with the very Man he had just declined to engage; which having shewn him void of any Malevolence to his Rival on the one hand, he now proves himself free from the Imputation of Cowardice on the other. Homer draws him (as we have seen) soft of Speech, the natural Quality of an amorous Temper; vainly gay in War as well as Love; with a Spirit that can be surprized and recollected, that can receive Impressions of Shame or Apprehension on the one side, or of Generosity and Courage on the other; the usual Disposition of easy and courteous Minds which are most subject to the Rule of Fancy and Passion. Upon the whole, this is no worse than the Picture of a gentle Knight, and one might fancy the Heroes of the modern Romance were form’d upon the Model of Paris.
Note XII.
VERSE 108. Much fam’d for gen’rous Steeds, for Beauty more. ]
The Original is, [Greek]. Perhaps this Line is translated too close to the Letter, and the Epithets might have been omitted. But there are some Traits and Particularities of this Nature, which methinks preserve to the Reader the Air of Homer. At least the latter of these Circumstances, that Greece was eminent for beautiful Women, seems not improper to be mention’d by him who had rais’d a War on the account of a Grecian Beauty.
Note XIII.
VERSE 109. The Challenge Hector heard with Joy. ]
Hector stays not to reply to his Brother, but runs away with the Challenge immediately. He looks upon all the Trojans as disgrac’d by the late Flight of Paris, and thinks not a Moment is to be lost to regain the Honour of his Country. The Activity he shews in all this Affair wonderfully agrees with the Spirit of a Soldier.
Note XIV.
VERSE 123. Hear all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian Bands. ]
It has been ask’d how the different Nations could understand one another in these Conferences, since we have no mention in Homer of any Interpreter between them? He who was so very particular in the most minute Points, can hardly be thought to have been negligent in this. Some Reasons may be offer’d that they both spoke the same Language; for the Trojans (as may be seen in Dion. Halic. lib. 1.) were of Grecian Extraction originally. Dardanus the first of their Kings was born in Arcadia; and even their Names were generally Greek, as Hector, Anchises, Andromache, Astyanax, &c. Of the last of these in particular Homer gives us a Derivation which is purely Greek in Il. 6. ℣. 403. But however it be, this is no more (as Dacier somewhere observes) than the just Privilege of Poetry. Aeneas and Turnus understand each other in Virgil, and the Language of the Poet is suppos’d to be universally intelligible, not only between different Countries, but between Earth and Heaven itself.
Note XV.
VERSE 135. Me too ye Warriors hear, &c.]
We may observe what care Homer takes to give every one his proper Character, and how this Speech of Menelaus is adapted to the Laconick; which the better to comprehend, we may remember there are in Homer three Speakers of different Characters, agreeable to the three different kinds of Eloquence. These we may compare with each other in one Instance, supposing them all to use the same Heads, and in the same Order.
The Materials of the Speech are, The manifesting his Grief for the War, with the hopes that it is in his Power to end it; an Acceptance of the propos’d Challenge; an Account of the Ceremonies to be us’d in the League; and a Proposal of a proper Caution to secure it.
Now had Nestor these Materials to work upon, he would probably have begun with a Relation of all the Troubles of the nine Year’s Siege which he hop’d he might now bring to an end; he would court their Benevolence and good Wishes for his Prosperity with all the Figures of Amplification; while he accepted the Challenge, he would have given an Example to prove that the single Combate was a wise, gallant, and gentle way of ending the War, practis’d by their Fathers; in the Description of the Rites he would be exceeding particular; and when he chose to demand the Sanction of Priam rather than of his Sons, he would place in Opposition on one side the Son’s Action which began the War, and on the other the Impressions of Concern or Repentance which it must by this time have made in the Father’s Mind, whose Wisdom he would undoubtedly extol as the effect of his Age. All this he would have expatiated upon with Connexions of the Discourses in the most evident manner, and the most easy, gliding, undisobliging Transitions. The Effect would be, that the People would hear him with Pleasure.
Had it been Ulysses who was to make the Speech, he would have mention’d a few of their most affecting Calamities in a pathetick Air; then have undertaken the Fight with testifying such a chearful Joy, as should have won the Hearts of the Soldiers to follow him to the Field without being desired. He would have been exceeding cautious in wording the Conditions; and solemn rather than particular in speaking of the Rites, which he would only insist on as an Opportunity to exhort both sides to a fear of the Gods, and a strict regard of Justice. He would have remonstrated the use of sending for Priam; and (because no Caution could be too much) have demanded his Sons to be bound with him. For a Conclusion he would have us’d some noble Sentiment agreeable to a Heroe, and (it may be) have enforc’d it with some inspirited Action. In all this you would have known that the Discourse hung together, but its Fire would not always suffer it to be seen in cooler Transitions, which (when they are too nicely laid open) may conduct the Reader, but never carry him away. The People would hear him with Emotion.
These Materials being given to Menelaus, he but just mentions their Troubles, and his Satisfaction in the Prospect of ending them, shortens the Proposals, says a Sacrifice is necessary, requires Priam’s Presence to confirm the Conditions, refuses his Sons with a Resentment of that Injury he suffer’d by them, and concludes with a Reason for his Choice from the Praise of Age, with a short Gravity, and the Air of an Apothegm. This he puts in order without any more Transition than what a single Conjunction affords. And the effect of the Discourse is, that the People are instructed by it in what is to be done.
Note XVI.
VERSE 141. Two Lambs devoted. ]
The Trojans (says the old Scholiast) were required to sacrifice two Lambs; one Male, of a white Colour, to the Sun, and one Female, and black, to the Earth; as the Sun is Father of Light, and the Earth the Mother and Nurse of Men. The Greeks were to offer a third to Jupiter, perhaps to Jupiter Xenius because the Trojans had broken the Laws of Hospitality: on which account we find Menelaus afterwards invoking him in the Combate with Paris. That these were the Powers to which they sacrific’d, appears by their being attested by Name in the Oath, ℣. 340.
Note XVII.
VERSE 153. The Nations hear, with rising Hopes possest. ]
It seem’d no more than what the Reader would reasonably expect, in the Narration of this long War, that a Period might have been put to it by the single danger of the Parties chiefly concern’d, Paris and Menelaus. Homer has therefore taken care toward the beginning of his Poem to obviate that Objection; and contriv’d such a Method to render this Combate of no effect, as should naturally make way for all the ensuing Battels, without any future Prospect of a Determination but by the Sword. It is farther worth observing, in what manner he has improved into Poetry the common History of this Action, if (as one may imagine) it was the same with that we have in the second Book of Dictys Cretensis. When Paris (says he) being wounded by the Spear of Menelaus fell to the Ground, just as his Adversary was rushing upon him with his Sword, he was shot by an Arrow from Pandarus, which prevented his Revenge in the Moment he was going to take it. Immediately on the sight of this perfidious Action, the Greeks rose in a Tumult; the Trojans rising at the same time, came on, and rescued Paris from his Enemy. Homer has with great Art and Invention mingled all this with the Marvellous, and rais’d it in the Air of Fable. The Goddess of Love rescues her Favourite; Jupiter debates whether or no the War shall end by the Defeat of Paris; Juno is for the Continuance of it; Minerva incites Pandarus to break the Truce, who thereupon shoots at Menelaus. This heightens the Grandeur of the Action without destroying the Verisimilitude, diversifies the Poem, and exhibits a fine Moral; that whatever seems in the World the Effect of common Causes, is really owing to the Decree and Disposition of the Gods.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 165. Mean while to beauteous Helen, &c. ]
The following Part where we have the first sight of Helena, is what I cannot think inferior to any in the Poem. The Reader has naturally an Aversion to this pernicious Beauty, and is apt enough to wonder at the Greeks for endeavouring to recover her at such an Expence. But her amiable Behaviour here, the secret Wishes that rise in favour of her rightful Lord, her Tenderness for her Parents and Relations, the Relentings of her Soul for the Mischiefs her Beauty had been the Cause of, the Confusion she appears in, the veiling her Face and dropping a Tear, are Particulars so beautifully natural, as to make every Reader no less than Menelaus himself, inclin’d to forgive her at least, if not to love her. We are afterwards confirm’d in this Partiality by the Sentiment of the old Counsellors upon the sight of her, which one would think Homer put into their Mouths with that very view: We excuse her no more than Priam does himself, and all those do who felt the Calamities she occasion’d: And this Regard for her is heighten’d by all she says herself; in which there is scarce a word that is not big with Repentance and Good-nature.
Note XIX.
VERSE 170. The golden Web her own sad Story crown’d. ]
This is a very agreeable Fiction, to represent Helena weaving in a large Veil, or Piece of Tapestry, the Story of the Trojan War. One would think that Homer inherited this Veil, and that his Iliad is only an Explication of that admirable Piece of Art. Dacier.
Note I.
VERSE 3. With Shouts the Trojans.]
The Book begins with a fine Opposition of the Noise of the Trojan Army to the Silence of the Graecians. It was but natural to imagine this, since the former was compos’d of many different Nations, of various Languages and Strangers to each other; the latter were more united in their Neighbourhood, and under Leaders of the same Country. But as this Observation seems particularly insisted upon by our Author (for he uses it again in the fourth Book, ℣. 430.) so he had a farther Reason for it. Plutarch in his Treatise of reading the Poets, remarks upon this Distinction, as a particular Credit to the military Discipline of the Greeks. And several ancient Authors tell us, it was the Manner of the Barbarians to encounter with Shouts and Outcries; as it continues to this Day the Custom of the Eastern Nations. Perhaps these Clamours were only to encourage their Men, instead of martial Instruments. I think Sir Walter Raleigh says, there never was a People but made use of some sort of Musick in Battel: Homer never mentions any in the Greek or Trojan Armies, and it is scarce to be imagined he would omit a Circumstance so poetical without some particular Reason. The Verb [Greek]which the modern Greeks have since appropriated to the sound of a Trumpet, is used indifferently in our Author for other Sounds, as for Thunder in the the 21 st Iliad, ℣. 388. [Greek]—. He once names the Trumpet [Greek]in a Simile, upon which Eustathius and Didymus observe that the use of it was known in the Poet’s Time, but not in that of the Trojan War. And hence we may infer that Homer was particularly careful not to confound the Manners of the Times he wrote of, with those of the Times he liv’d in.
Book IV THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Gods deliberate in Council concerning the Trojan War: They agree upon the Continuation of it, and Jupiter sends down Minerva to break the Truce. She persuades Pandarus to aim an Arrow at Menelaus, who is wounded, but cured by Machaon. In the mean time some of the Trojan Troops attack the Greeks. Agamemnon is distinguished in all the Parts of a good General; he reviews the Troops and exhorts the Leaders, some by Praises and others by Reproofs. Nestor is particularly celebrated for his military Discipline. The Battel joins, and great Numbers are slain on both sides. The same Day continues thro’ this, as thro’ the last Book (as it does also thro’ the two following, and almost to the end of the seventh Book.) The Scene is wholly in the Field before Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-6] Divine council opens on Olympus
- [7-26] Jove provokes Juno: Paris spared; peace or war?
- [27-34] Juno & Pallas confer apart
- [35-44] Juno’s tirade against Troy
- [45-72] Jove’s reply: he loves Troy, but bargains
- [73-94] Juno’s concession & plan
- [95-98] Decree: Minerva to dissolve the league
- [99-114] Athena’s comet-bright descent
- [115-122] In disguise among Trojans
- [123-134] Temptation: Pandarus urged to shoot Menelaus
- [135-143] Arming the bow
- [144-157] The shot that breaks the truce
- [158-169] Athena deflects; Menelaus only grazed
- [170-177] Simile: blood like Tyrian dye on ivory
- [178-199] Agamemnon’s alarm & curse of perjury
- [220-225] Menelaus steadies him
- [226-241] Call for the surgeon
- [242-251] Surgery: dart drawn; Chiron’s balm
- [252-265] Trojans surge; Agamemnon goes on foot
- [266-273] Exhortation to the brave
- [274-285] Reproach to the faint-hearted
- [286-301] Praise of Idomeneus and Meriones
- [302-309] Idomeneus’ stout reply
- [310-333] The Ajaxes in phalanx
- [334-359] Nestor’s discipline manual
- [360-379] Praise & the wisdom of age
- [380-417] Menestheus & Odysseus rebuked—then reconciled
- [418-451] Diomedes reproved by his father’s fame
- [452-473] Sthenelus boasts; Diomedes checks him
- [474-477] Tydides arms and advances
- [478-497] Battle closes: ordered Greeks vs. clamorous Trojans
- [498-507] Gods inflame both sides; Discord strides the field
- [508-521] First general shock
- [522-529] Antilochus kills Echepolus
- [530-537] Elephenor slain while stripping the dead
- [538-541] Wolves over prey; melee thickens
- [542-561] Ajax kills Simoeisius
- [562-566] Antiphus kills Leucus
- [567-584] Odysseus kills Democoon
- [585-596] Apollo rallies Troy; Athena cheers Greece
- [597-609] Diores slain by Peiros of Thrace
- [610-623] Thoas fells Peiros, then yields the spoil
- [624-637] Dual fall & widening carnage
- [1-6] Time marker: the same day continues (Day 23)
- [1-637] Scene: the field before Troy
- [135-143] Background: Pandarus’ horn bow
- [250-251] Background: Heroic medicine
AND now Olympus’ shining Gates unfold;
The Gods, with Jove, assume their Thrones of Gold:
Immortal Hebè, fresh with Bloom Divine,
The golden Goblets crowns with Purple Wine:
While the full Bowls flow round, the Pow’rs employ
Their careful Eyes on long-contended Troy.
When Jove, dispos’d to tempt Saturnia’s Spleen,
Thus wak’d the Fury of his partial Queen.
Two Pow’rs Divine the Son of Atreus aid,
Imperial Juno, and the Martial Maid;
But high in Heav’n they sit, and gaze from far,
The tame Spectators of his Deeds of War.
Not thus fair Venus helps her favour’d Knight,
The Queen of Pleasures shares the Toils of Fight,
Each Danger wards, and constant in her Care
Saves in the Moment of the last Despair.
Her Act has rescu’d Paris’ forfeit Life,
Tho’ great Atrides gain’d the glorious Strife.
Then say ye Pow’rs! what signal Issue waits
To crown this Deed, and finish all the Fates?
Shall Heav’n by Peace the bleeding Kingdoms spare,
Or rowze the Furies and awake the War?
Yet, would the Gods for human Good provide,
Atrides soon might gain his beauteous Bride,
Still Priam’s Walls in peaceful Honours grow,
And thro’ his Gates the crowding Nations flow.
Thus while he spoke, the Queen of Heav’n enrag’d
And Queen of War, in close Consult engag’d.
Apart they sit, their deep Designs employ,
And meditate the future Woes of Troy.
Tho’ secret Anger swell’d Minerva’s Breast,
The prudent Goddess yet her Wrath supprest;
But Juno, impotent of Passion, broke
Her sullen Silence, and with Fury spoke.
Shall then, O Tyrant of th’ Aethereal Reign!
My Schemes, my Labours, and my Hopes be vain?
Have I, for this, shook Ilion with Alarms,
Assembled Nations, set two Worlds in Arms?
To spread the War, I flew from Shore to Shore;
Th’ Immortal Coursers scarce the Labour bore.
At length, ripe Vengeance o’er their Heads impends,
But Jove himself the faithless Race defends:
Loth as thou art to punish lawless Lust,
Not all the Gods are partial and unjust.
The Sire whose Thunder shakes the cloudy Skies,
Sighs from his inmost Soul, and thus replies;
Oh lasting Rancour! oh insatiate Hate
To Phrygia’s Monarch, and the Phrygian State!
What high Offence has fir’d the Wife of Jove,
Can wretched Mortals harm the Pow’rs above,
50That Troy, and Troy’s whole Race thou woud’st confound,
And yon’ fair Structures level with the Ground?
Haste, leave the Skies, fulfil thy stern Desire,
Burst all her Gates, and wrap her Walls in Fire!
Let Priam bleed! If yet thou thirst for more,
Bleed all his Sons, and Ilion float with Gore,
To boundless Vengeance the wide Realm be giv’n,
’Till vast Destruction glut the Queen of Heav’n!
So let it be, and Jove his Peace enjoy,
When Heav’n no longer hears the Name of Troy.
But should this Arm prepare to wreak our Hate
On thy lov’d Realms whose Guilt demands their Fate,
Presume not thou the lifted Bolt to stay,
Remember Troy, and give the Vengeance way.
For know, of all the num’rous Towns that rise
Beneath the rowling Sun, and starry Skies,
Which Gods have rais’d, or Earth-born Men enjoy;
None stands so dear to Jove as sacred Troy.
No Mortals merit more distinguish’d Grace
Than Godlike Priam, or than Priam’s Race.
Still to our Name their Hecatombs expire,
And Altars blaze with unextinguish’d Fire.
At this the Goddess roll’d her radiant Eyes,
Then on the Thund’rer fix’d them, and replies.
Three Towns are Juno’s on the Grecian Plains,
More dear than all th’ extended Earth contains,
Mycenae, Argos, and the Spartan Wall;
These thou may’st raze, nor I forbid their Fall:
’Tis not in me the Vengeance to remove;
The Crime’s sufficient that they share my Love.
Of Pow’r superior why should I complain?
Resent I may, but must resent in vain.
Yet some Distinction Juno might require,
Sprung, with thy self, from one Celestial Sire,
A Goddess born to share the Realms above,
And styl’d the Consort of the thund’ring Jove.
Nor thou a Wife and Sister’s Right deny;
Let both consent, and both by turns comply:
So shall the Gods our joint Decrees obey,
And Heav’n shall act as we direct the way.
See ready Pallas waits thy high Commands,
To raise in Arms the Greek and Phrygian Bands;
Their sudden Friendship by her Arts may cease,
And the proud Trojans first infringe the Peace.
The Sire of Men and Monarch of the Sky
Th’ Advice approv’d, and bade Minerva fly,
Dissolve the League, and all her Arts employ
To make the Breach the faithless Act of Troy.
Fir’d with the Charge, she head-long urg’d her Flight,
And shot like Light’ning from Olympus’ Height.
100As the red Comet from Saturnius sent
To fright the Nations with a dire Portent,
(A fatal Sign to Armies on the Plain,
Or trembling Sailors on the wintry Main)
With sweeping Glories glides along in Air,
And shakes the Sparkles from its blazing Hair:
Between both Armies thus, in open Sight,
Shot the bright Goddess in a Trial of Light.
With Eyes erect the gazing Hosts admire
The Pow’r descending, and the Heav’ns on Fire!
The Gods (they cry’d) the Gods this Signal sent,
And Fate now labours with some vast Event:
Jove seals the League, or bloodier Scenes prepares;
Jove, the great Arbiter of Peace and Wars!
They said, while Pallas thro’ the Trojan Throng
(In Shape a Mortal) pass’d disguis’d along.
Like bold Laödocus, her Course she bent,
Who from Antenor trac’d his high Descent.
Amidst the Ranks Lycaön’s Son she found,
The warlike Pandarus, for Strength renown’d;
Whose Squadrons, led from black Aesepus’ Flood,
With flaming Shields in martial Circle stood.
To him the Goddess: Phrygian! can’st thou hear
A well-tim’d Counsel with a willing Ear?
What Praise were thine, cou’d’st thou direct thy Dart
Amidst his Triumph to the Spartan’s Heart?
What Gifts from Troy, from Paris wou’d’st thou gain,
Thy Country’s Foe, the Grecian Glory slain?
Then seize th’ Occasion, dare the mighty Deed,
Aim at his Breast, and may that Aim succeed!
But first, to speed the Shaft, address thy Vow
To Lycian Phoebus with the Silver Bow,
And swear the Firstlings of thy Flock to pay
On Zelia’s Altars, to the God of Day.
He heard, and madly at the Motion pleas’d,
His polish’d Bow with hasty Rashness seiz’d.
’Twas form’d of Horn, and smooth’d with artful Toil;
A Mountain Goat resign’d the shining Spoil,
Who peirc’d long since beneath his Arrows bled;
The stately Quarry on the Cliffs lay dead,
And sixteen Palms his Brows large Honours spread:
The Workman join’d, and shap’d the bended Horns,
And beaten Gold each taper Point adorns.
This, by the Greeks unseen, the Warrior bends,
Screen’d by the Shields of his surrounding Friends.
There meditates the Mark; and couching low,
Fits the sharp Arrow to the well-strung Bow.
One from a hundred feather’d Deaths he chose,
Fated to wound, and Cause of future Woes.
Then offers Vows with Hecatombs to crown
150Apollo’s Altars in his Native Town.
Now with full Force the yielding Horn he bends,
Drawn to an Arch, and joins the doubling Ends;
Close to his Breast he strains the Nerve below,
’Till the barb’d Point approach the circling Bow;
Th’ impatient Weapon whizzes on the Wing,
Sounds the tough Horn, and twangs the quiv’ring String.
But Thee, Atrides! in that dang’rous Hour
The Gods forget not, nor thy Guardian Pow’r.
Pallas assists, and (weaken’d in its Force)
Diverts the Weapon from the destin’d Course.
So from her Babe, when Slumber seals his Eye,
The watchful Mother wafts th’ envenom’d Fly.
Just where his Belt with golden Buckles join’d,
Where Linen Folds the double Corslet lin’d,
She turn’d the Shaft, which hissing from above,
Pass’d the broad Belt, and thro’ the Corslet drove;
The Folds it pierc’d, the plaited Linen tore,
And raz’d the Skin and drew the Purple Gore.
As when some stately Trappings are decreed,
To grace a Monarch on his bounding Steed,
A Nymph in Caria or Meönia bred,
Stains the pure Iv’ry with a lively Red;
With equal Lustre various Colours vie,
The shining Whiteness and the Tyrian Dye.
So, great Atrides! show’d thy sacred Blood,
As down thy snowie Thigh distill’d the streaming Flood.
With Horror seiz’d, the King of Men descry’d
The Shaft infix’d, and saw the gushing Tide:
Nor less the Spartan fear’d, before he found
The shining Barb appear above the Wound.
Then, with a Sigh that heav’d his manly Breast,
The Royal Brother thus his Grief exprest,
And grasp’d his Hand; while all the Greeks around
With answering Sighs return’d the plaintive Sound.
Oh dear as Life! did I for this agree
The solemn Truce, a fatal Truce to thee!
Wert thou expos’d to all the hostile Train,
To fight for Greece, and conquer to be slain?
The Race of Trojans in thy Ruin join,
And Faith is scorn’d by all the perjur’d Line.
Not thus our Vows, confirm’d with Wine and Gore,
Those Hands we plighted, and those Oaths we swore,
Shall all be vain: When Heav’n’s Revenge is slow,
Jove but prepares to strike the fiercer Blow.
The Day shall come, that great avenging Day,
Which Troy’s proud Glories in the Dust shall lay,
When Priam’s Pow’rs and Priam’s self shall fall,
And one prodigious Ruin swallow All.
I see the God, already, from the Pole
200Bare his red Arm, and bid the Thunder roll;
I see th’ Eternal all his Fury shed,
And shake his Aegis o’er their guilty Head.
Such mighty Woes on perjur’d Princes wait;
But thou, alas! deserv’st a happier Fate.
Still must I mourn the Period of thy Days,
And only mourn, without my Share of Praise?
Depriv’d of thee, the heartless Greeks no more
Shall dream of Conquests on the hostile Shore;
Troy seiz’d of Helen, and our Glory lost,
Thy Bones shall moulder on a foreign Coast:
While some proud Trojan thus insulting cries,
(And spurns the Dust where Menelaus lies)
" Such are the Trophies Greece from Ilion brings,
" And such the Conquests of her King of Kings!
" Lo his proud Vessels scatter’d o’er the Main,
" And unreveng’d, his mighty Brother slain.
Oh! e’re that dire Disgrace shall blast my Fame,
O’erwhelm me, Earth! and hide a Monarch’s Shame.
He said: A Leader’s and a Brother’s Fears
Possess his Soul, which thus the Spartan chears:
Let not thy Words the Warmth of Greece abate;
The feeble Dart is guiltless of my Fate:
Stiff with the rich embroider’d Work around,
My vary’d Belt repell’d the flying Wound.
To whom the King. My Brother and my Friend,
Thus, always thus, may Heav’n thy Life defend!
Now seek some skilful Hand whose pow’rful Art
May stanch th’ Effusion and extract the Dart.
Herald be swift, and bid Machaon bring
His speedy Succour to the Spartan King;
Pierc’d with a winged Shaft (the Deed of Troy )
The Grecian’s Sorrow, and the Dardan’s Joy.
With hasty Zeal the swift Talthybius flies;
Thro’ the thick Files he darts his searching Eyes,
And finds Machaön, where sublime he stands
In Arms encircled with his native Bands.
Then thus: Machaön, to the King repair,
His wounded Brother claims thy timely Care;
Pierc’d by some Lycian or Dardanian Bow,
A Grief to us, a Triumph to the Foe.
The heavy Tidings griev’d the Godlike Man;
Swift to his Succour thro’ the Ranks he ran:
The dauntless King yet standing firm he found,
And all the Chiefs in deep Concern around.
Where to the steely Point the Reed was join’d,
The Shaft he drew, but left the Head behind.
Strait the broad Belt with gay Embroid’ry grac’d
He loos’d; the Corslet from his Breast unbrac’d;
Then suck’d the Blood, and Sov’reign Balm infus’d,
250Which Chiron gave, and Aesculapius us’d.
While round the Prince the Greeks employ their Care,
The Trojans rush tumultuous to the War;
Once more they glitter in refulgent Arms,
Once more the Fields are fill’d with dire Alarms.
Nor had you seen the King of Men appear
Confus’d, unactive, or surpriz’d with Fear;
But fond of Glory, with severe Delight,
His beating Bosom claim’d the rising Fight.
No longer with his warlike Steeds he stay’d,
Or press’d the Car with polish’d Brass inlay’d,
But left Eurymedon the Reins to guide;
The fiery Coursers snorted at his side.
On Foot thro’ all the martial Ranks he moves,
And these encourages, and those reproves.
Brave Men! he cries (to such who boldly dare
Urge their swift Steeds to face the coming War)
Your ancient Valour on the Foes approve;
Jove is with Greece, and let us trust in Jove.
’Tis not for us, but guilty Troy to dread,
Whose Crimes sit heavy on her perjur’d Head;
Her Sons and Matrons Greece shall lead in Chains,
And her dead Warriors strow the mournful Plains.
Thus with new Ardour he the Brave inspires,
Or thus the fearful with Reproaches fires.
Shame to your Country, Scandal of your Kind!
Born to the Fate ye well deserve to find!
Why stand ye gazing round the dreadful Plain,
Prepar’d for Flight, but doom’d to fly in vain?
Confus’d and panting, thus, the hunted Deer
Falls as he flies, a Victim to his Fear.
Still must ye wait the Foes, and still retire,
’Till yon’ tall Vessels blaze with Trojan Fire?
Or trust ye, Jove a valiant Foe shall chace,
To save a trembling, heartless, dastard Race?
This said, he stalk’d with ample Strides along,
To Crete’s brave Monarch and his martial Throng;
High at their Head he saw the Chief appear,
And bold Meriones excite the Rear.
At this the King his gen’rous Joy exprest,
And clasp’d the Warrior to his armed Breast.
Divine Idomeneus! what Thanks we owe
To Worth like thine? what Praise shall we bestow?
To thee the foremost Honours are decreed,
First in the Fight, and ev’ry graceful Deed.
For this, in Banquets when the gen’rous Bowls
Restore our Blood, and raise the Warrior’s Souls,
Tho’ all the rest with stated Rules we bound,
Unmix’d, unmeasur’d are thy Goblets crown’d.
Be still thy self; in Arms a mighty Name;
300Maintain thy Honours, and enlarge thy Fame.
To whom the Cretan thus his Speech addrest;
Secure of me, O King! exhort the rest:
Fix’d to thy Side, in ev’ry Toil I share,
Thy firm Associate in the Day of War.
But let the Signal be this Moment giv’n;
To mix in Fight is all I ask of Heav’n.
The Field shall prove how Perjuries succeed,
And Chains or Death avenge their impious Deed.
Charm’d with this Heat, the King his Course pursues,
And next the Troops of either Ajax views:
In one firm Orb the Bands were rang’d around,
A Cloud of Heroes blacken’d all the Ground.
Thus from the lofty Promontory’s Brow
A Swain surveys the gath’ring Storm below;
Slow from the Main the heavy Vapours rise,
Spread in dim Streams, and sail along the Skies,
’Till black as Night the swelling Tempest shows,
The Cloud condensing as the West-Wind blows:
He dreads th’ impending Storm, and drives his Flock
To the close Covert of an arching Rock.
Such, and so thick, th’ embattel’d Squadrons stood,
With Spears erect, a moving Iron Wood;
A shady Light was shot from glimm’ring Shields,
And their brown Arms obscur’d the dusky Fields.
O Heroes! worthy such a dauntless Train,
Whose Godlike Virtue we but urge in vain,
(Exclaim’d the King) who raise your eager Bands
With great Examples more than loud Commands.
Ah would the Gods but breathe in all the rest
Such Souls as burn in your exalted Breast!
Soon should our Arms with just Success be crown’d,
And Troy’s proud Walls lie smoaking on the Ground.
Then to the next the Gen’ral bends his Course;
(His Heart exults, and glories in his Force)
There rev’rend Nestor ranks his Pylian Bands,
And with inspiring Eloquence commands,
With strictest Order sets his Train in Arms,
The Chiefs advises, and the Soldiers warms.
Alastor, Chromius, Haemon round him wait,
Bias the good, and Pelagon the great.
The Horse and Chariots to the Front assign’d,
The Foot (the Strength of War) he rang’d behind;
The middle Space suspected Troops supply,
Inclos’d by both, nor left the Pow’r to fly:
He gives Command to curb the fiery Steed,
Nor cause Confusion, nor the Ranks exceed;
Before the rest let none too rashly ride;
No Strength or Skill, but just in Time, be try’d:
The Charge once made, no Warrior turn the Rein,
350But fight, or fall; a firm, embody’d Train.
He whom the Fortune of the Field shall cast
From forth his Chariot, mount the next in haste;
Nor seek unpractis’d to direct the Car,
Content with Jav’lins to provoke the War.
Our great Fore-fathers held this prudent Course,
Thus rul’d their Ardour, thus preserv’d their Force,
By Laws like these Immortal Conquests made,
And Earth’s proud Tyrants low in Ashes laid.
So spoke the Master of the martial Art,
And touch’d with Transport great Atrides’ Heart.
Oh! had’st thou Strength to match thy brave Desires,
And Nerves to second what thy Soul inspires!
But wasting Years that wither human Race,
Exhaust thy Spirits, and thy Arms unbrace.
What once thou wert, oh ever might’st thou be!
And Age the Lot of any Chief but thee.
Thus to th’ experienc’d Prince Atrides cry’d;
He shook his hoary Locks, and thus reply’d.
Well might I wish, could Mortal Wish renew
That Strength which once in boiling Youth I knew;
Such as I was, when Ereuthalion slain
Beneath this Arm fell prostrate on the Plain.
But Heav’n its Gifts not all at once bestows,
These Years with Wisdom crowns, with Action those:
The Field of Combate fits the Young and Bold,
The solemn Council best becomes the Old:
To you the glorious Conflict I resign,
Let sage Advice, the Palm of Age, be mine.
He said. With Joy the Monarch march’d before,
And found Menestheus on the dusty Shore,
With whom the firm Athenian Phalanx stands;
And next Ulysses, with his Subject Bands.
Remote their Forces lay, nor knew so far
The Peace infring’d, nor heard the Sounds of War;
The Tumult late begun, they stood intent
To watch the Motion, dubious of th’ Event.
The King, who saw their Squadrons yet unmov’d,
With hasty Ardour thus the Chiefs reprov’d.
Can Peteus’ Son forget a Warrior’s Part,
And fears Ulysses, skill’d in ev’ry Art?
Why stand you distant, and the rest expect
To mix in Combate which your selves neglect?
From you ’twas hop’d among the first to dare
The Shock of Armies, and commence the War.
For this your Names are call’d, before the rest,
To share the Pleasures of the Genial Feast:
And can you, Chiefs! without a Blush survey
Whole Troops before you lab’ring in the Fray?
Say, is it thus those Honours you requite?
400The first in Banquets, but the last in Fight.
Ulysses heard; The Hero’s Warmth o’erspread
His Cheek with Blushes; and severe, he said.
Take back th’ unjust Reproach! Behold we stand
Sheath’d in bright Arms, and but expect Command.
If glorious Deeds afford thy Soul delight,
Behold me plunging in the thickest Fight.
Then give thy Warrior-Chief a Warrior’s Due,
Who dares to act whate’er thou dar’st to view.
Struck with his gen’rous Wrath, the King replies;
Oh great in Action, and in Council wise!
With ours, thy Care and Ardour are the same,
Nor need I to command, nor ought to blame.
Sage as thou art, and learn’d in Humankind,
Forgive the Transport of a martial Mind.
Haste to the Fight, secure of just Amends;
The Gods that make, shall keep the Worthy, Friends.
He said, and pass’d where great Tydides lay,
His Steeds and Chariots wedg’d in firm Array:
(The warlike Sthenelus attends his side)
To whom with stern Reproach the Monarch cry’d.
Oh Son of Tydeus! (He, whose Strength could tame
The bounding Steed, in Arms a mighty Name)
Can’st thou, remote, the mingling Hosts descry
With Hands unactive, and a careless Eye?
Not thus thy Sire the fierce Encounter fear’d;
Still first in Front the matchless Prince appear’d:
What glorious Toils, what Wonders they recite,
Who view’d him lab’ring thro’ the Ranks of Fight!
I saw him once, when gath’ring martial Pow’rs
A peaceful Guest, he sought Mycenae’s Tow’rs;
Armies he ask’d, and Armies had been giv’n,
Not we deny’d, but Jove forbad from Heav’n;
While dreadful Comets glaring from afar
Forewarn’d the Horrors of the Theban War.
Next, sent by Greece from where Asopus flows,
A fearless Envoy he approach’d the Foes;
Thebes’ hostile Walls, unguarded and alone,
Dauntless he enters, and demands the Throne.
The Tyrant feasting with his Chiefs he found,
And dar’d to Combate all those Chiefs around;
Dar’d and subdu’d, before their haughty Lord;
For Pallas strung his Arm, and edg’d his Sword.
Stung with the Shame, within the winding Way,
To bar his Passage fifty Warriors lay;
Two Heroes led the secret Squadron on,
Moeon the fierce, and hardy Lycophon;
Those fifty slaughter’d in the gloomy Vale,
He spar’d but one to bear the dreadful Tale.
Such Tydeus was, and such his martial Fire;
450Gods! how the Son degen’rates from the Sire?
No Words the Godlike Diomed return’d,
But heard respectful, and in secret burn’d:
Not so fierce Capaneus’ undaunted Son,
Stern as his Sire, the Boaster thus begun.
What needs, O Monarch, this invidious Praise,
Our selves to lessen, while our Sires you raise?
Dare to be just, Atrides! and confess
Our Valour equal, tho’ our Fury less.
With fewer Troops we storm’d the Theban Wall,
And happier, saw the Sev’nfold City fall.
In impious Acts the guilty Fathers dy’d;
The Sons subdu’d, for Heav’n was on their side.
Far more than Heirs of all our Parent’s Fame,
Our Glories darken their diminish’d Name.
To him Tydides thus. My Friend forbear,
Suppress thy Passion, and the King revere:
His high Concern may well excuse this Rage,
Whose Cause we follow, and whose War we wage;
His the first Praise were Ilion’s Tow’rs o’erthrown,
And, if we fail, the chief Disgrace his own.
Let him the Greeks to hardy Toils excite,
’Tis ours, to labour in the glorious Fight.
He spoke, and ardent, on the trembling Ground
Sprung from his Car; his ringing Arms resound.
Dire was the Clang, and dreadful from afar,
Of arm’d Tydides rushing to the War.
As when the Winds, ascending by degrees,
First move the whitening Surface of the Seas,
The Billows float in order to the Shore,
The Wave behind rolls on the Wave before;
Till, with the growing Storm, the Deeps arise,
Foam o’er the Rocks, and thunder to the Skies.
So to the Fight the thick Battalions throng,
Shields urg’d on Shields, and Men drove Men along.
Sedate and silent move the num’rous Bands;
No Sound, no Whisper, but their Chief’s Commands,
Those only heard; with Awe the rest obey,
As if some God had snatch’d their Voice away.
Not so the Trojans, from their Host ascends
A gen’ral Shout that all the Region rends.
As when the fleecy Flocks unnumber’d stand
In wealthy Folds, and wait the Milker’s Hand,
The hollow Vales incessant Bleating fills,
The Lambs reply from all the neighb’ring Hills:
Such Clamours rose from various Nations round,
Mix’d was the Murmur, and confus’d the Sound.
Each Host now joins, and each a God inspires,
These Mars incites, and those Minerva fires.
Pale Flight around, and dreadful Terror reign;
500And Discord raging bathes the purple Plain:
Discord! dire Sister of the slaught’ring Pow’r,
Small at her Birth, but rising ev’ry Hour,
While scarce the Skies her horrid Head can bound,
She stalks on Earth, and shakes the World around;
The Nations bleed, where-e’er her Steps she turns,
The Groan still deepens, and the Combate burns.
Now Shield with Shield, with Helmet Helmet clos’d,
To Armour Armour, Lance to Lance oppos’d,
Host against Host with shadowy Squadrons drew,
The sounding Darts in Iron Tempests flew,
Victors and Vanquish’d join promiscuous Cries,
And shrilling Shouts and dying Groans arise;
With streaming Blood the slipp’ry Fields are dy’d,
And slaughter’d Heroes swell the dreadful Tide.
As Torrents roll, increas’d by num’rous Rills,
With Rage impetuous down their ecchoing Hills;
Rush to the Vales, and pour’d along the Plain,
Roar thro’ a thousand Chanels to the Main;
The distant Shepherd trembling hears the Sound:
So mix both Hosts, and so their Cries rebound.
The bold Antilochus the Slaughter led,
The first who strook a valiant Trojan dead:
At great Echepolus the Lance arrives,
Raz’d his high Crest, and thro’ his Helmet drives,
Warm’d in the Brain the brazen Weapon lies,
And Shades Eternal settle o’er his Eyes.
So sinks a Tow’r, that long Assaults had stood
Of Force and Fire; its Walls besmear’d with Blood.
Him, the bold Leader of th’ Abantian Throng
Seiz’d to despoil, and dragg’d the Corps along:
But while he strove to tug th’ inserted Dart,
Agenor’s Jav’lin reach’d the Hero’s Heart.
His Flank, unguarded by his ample Shield,
Admits the Lance: He falls, and spurns the Field;
The Nerves unbrac’d support his Limbs no more;
The Soul comes floating in a Tide of Gore.
Trojans and Greeks now gather round the Slain;
The War renews, the Warriors bleed again;
As o’er their Prey rapacious Wolves engage,
Man dies on Man, and all is Blood and Rage.
In blooming Youth fair Simoïsius fell,
Sent by great Ajax to the Shades of Hell;
Fair Simoïsius, whom his Mother bore
Amid the Flocks on silver Simois’ Shore:
The Nymph descending from the Hills of Ide,
To seek her Parents on his flow’ry Side,
Brought forth the Babe, their common Care and Joy,
And thence from Simois nam’d the lovely Boy.
Short was his Date! by dreadful Ajax slain
550He falls, and renders all their Cares in vain!
So falls a Poplar, that in watry Ground
Rais’d high the Head, with stately Branches crown’d,
(Fell’d by some Artist with his shining Steel,
To shape the Circle of the bending Wheel)
Cut down it lies, tall, smooth, and largely spread,
With all its beauteous Honours on its Head;
There left a Subject to the Wind and Rain
And scorch’d by Suns, it withers on the Plain.
Thus pierc’d by Ajax, Simoïsius lies
Stretch’d on the Shore, and thus neglected dies.
At Ajax, Antiphus his Jav’lin threw;
The pointed Lance with erring Fury flew,
And Leucus, lov’d by wise Ulysses, slew.
He drops the Corps of Simoïsius slain,
And sinks a breathless Carcass on the Plain.
This saw Ulysses, and with Grief enrag’d
Strode where the foremost of the Foes engag’d;
Arm’d with his Spear, he meditates the Wound,
In Act to throw; but cautious, look’d around.
Struck at his Sight the Trojans backward drew,
And trembling heard the Jav’lin as it flew.
A Chief stood nigh who from Abydos came,
Old Priam’s Son, Democoon was his Name;
The Weapon enter’d close above his Ear,
Cold thro’ his Temples glides the whizzing Spear;
With piercing Shrieks the Youth resigns his Breath,
His Eye-balls darken with the Shades of Death;
Down sinks the Chief: his clanging Arms resound;
And his broad Buckler rings against the Ground.
Seiz’d with Affright the boldest Foes appear;
Ev’n Godlike Hector seems himself to fear;
Slow he gave way, the rest tumultuous fled;
The Greeks with Shouts press on, and spoil the Dead,
But Phoebus now from Ilion’s tow’ring Height
Shines forth reveal’d, and animates the Fight.
Trojans be bold, and Force with Force oppose;
Your foaming Steeds urge headlong on the Foes!
Nor are their Bodies Rocks, nor ribb’d with Steel;
Your Weapons enter, and your Strokes they feel.
Have ye forgot what seem’d your Dread before?
The great, the fierce Achilles fights no more.
Apollo thus from Ilion’s lofty Tow’rs
Array’d in Terrors, rowz’d the Trojan Pow’rs:
While War’s fierce Goddess fires the Grecian Foe,
And shouts and thunders in the Fields below.
Then great Diores fell, by Doom Divine,
In vain his Valour, and illustrious Line.
A broken Rock the Force of Pirus threw,
(Who from cold Aenus led the Thracian Crew)
600Full on his Ankle dropt the pond’rous Stone,
Burst the strong Nerves, and crash’d the solid Bone:
Supine he tumbles on the crimson’d Sands,
Before his helpless Friends, and native Bands,
And spreads for Aid his unavailing Hands.
The Foe rush’d furious as he pants for Breath,
And thro’ his Navel drove the pointed Death:
His gushing Entrails smoak’d upon the Ground,
And the warm Life came issuing from the Wound.
His Lance bold Thoas at the Conqu’ror sent,
Deep in his Breast above the Pap it went,
Amid the Lungs was fix’d the winged Wood,
And quiv’ring in his heaving Bosom stood:
’Till from the dying Chief, approaching near,
Th’ Aetolian Warrior tugg’d his weighty Spear:
Then sudden wav’d his flaming Faulchion round,
And gash’d his Belly with a ghastly Wound.
The Corps now breathless on the bloody Plain,
To spoil his Arms the Victor strove in vain;
The Thracian Bands against the Victor prest;
A Grove of Lances glitter’d at his Breast.
Stern Thoas, glaring with revengeful Eyes,
In sullen Fury slowly quits the Prize.
Thus fell two Heroes; one the Pride of Thrace,
And one the Leader of th’ Epeian Race;
Death’s sable Shade at once o’ercast their Eyes,
In Dust the Vanquish’d, and the Victor lies.
With copious Slaughter all the Fields are red,
And heap’d with growing Mountains of the Dead.
Had some brave Chief this martial Scene beheld,
By Pallas guarded thro’ the dreadful Field,
Might Darts be bid to turn their Points away,
And Swords around him innocently play,
The War’s whole Art with Wonder had he seen,
And counted Heroes where he counted Men.
So fought each Host, with Thirst of Glory fir’d,
And Crowds on Crowds triumphantly expir’d.
Observations on the 4th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
Note I.
IT was from the beginning of this Book that Virgil has taken that of his tenth Aeneid, as the whole Tenour of the Story in this and the last Book is followed in his twelfth. The Truce and the solemn Oath, the Breach of it by a Dart thrown by Tolumnius, Juturna’s inciting the Latines to renew the War, the Wound of Aeneas, his speedy Cure, and the Battel ensuing, all these are manifestly copied from hence. The Solemnity, Surprize, and Variety of these Circumstances seem’d to him of Importance enough, to build the whole Catastrophe of his Work upon them; tho’ in Homer they are but Openings to the general Action, and such as in their Warmth are still exceeded by all that follows them. They are chosen, we grant, by Virgil with great Judgment, and conclude his Poem with a becoming Majesty: Yet the finishing his Scheme with that which is but the coolest Part of Homer’s Action, tends in some degree to shew the Disparity of the Poetical Fire in these two Authors.
Note II.
VERSE 3. Immortal Hebe.]
The Goddess of Youth is introduc’d as an Attendant upon the Banquets of the Gods, to shew that the divine Beings enjoy an eternal Youth, and that their Life is a Felicity without end. Dacier.
Note III.
VERSE 9. Two Pow’rs Divine. ]
Jupiter’s reproaching these two Goddesses with neglecting to assist Menelaus, proceeds (as M. Dacier remarks) from the Affection he bore to Troy: Since if Menelaus by their help had gain’d a compleat Victory, the Siege had been rais’d, and the City deliver’d. On the contrary, Juno and Minerva might suffer Paris to escape, as the Method to continue the War to the total Destruction of Troy. And accordingly a few Lines after we find them complotting together, and contriving a new Scene of Miseries to the Trojans.
Note IV.
VERSE 18. Tho’ great Atrides gain’d the glorious Strife. ]
Jupiter here makes it a Question, Whether the foregoing Combate should determine the Controversy, or the Peace be broken. His putting it thus, that Paris is not killed, but Menelaus has the Victory, gives a Hint for a Dispute whether the Conditions of the Treaty were valid or annulled; that is to say, whether the Controversy was to be determined by the Victory or by the Death of one of the Combatants. Accordingly it has been disputed whether the Articles were really binding to the Trojans or not? Plutarch has treated the Question in his Symposiacks l. 9. qu. 13. The Substance is this. In the first Proposal of the Challenge Paris mentions only the Victory, And who his Rival shall in Arms subdue: Nor does Hector who carries it say any more. However Menelaus understands it of the Death, by what he replies: Fall he that must beneath his Rival’s Arms, And live the rest—Iris to Helen speaks only of the former; and Idaeus to Priam repeats the same Words. But in the solemn Oath Agamemnon specifies the latter, If by Paris slain— and If by my Brother’s Arms the Trojan bleed. Priam also understands it of both, saying at his leaving the Field, What Prince shall fall Heav’n only knows— (I do not cite the Greek because the English has preserv’d the same Nicety.) Paris himself confesses he has lost the Victory, in his Speech to Helen, which he would hardly have done had the whole depended on that alone: And lastly Menelaus (after the Conquest is clearly his by the Flight of Paris ) is still searching round the Field to kill him, as if all were of no effect without the Death of his Adversary. It appears from hence that the Trojans had no ill Pretence to break the Treaty, so that Homer ought not to have been directly accus’d of making Jupiter the Author of Perjury in what follows, which is one of the Chief of Plato’s Objections against him.
Note V.
VERSE 31. Tho’ secret Anger swell’d Minerva ’s Breast ]
Spondanus takes notice that Minerva, who in the first Book had restrain’d the Anger of Achilles, had now an Opportunity of exerting the same Conduct in respect to herself. We may bring the Parallel close, by observing that she had before her in like manner a Superior, who had provok’d her by sharp Expressions, and whose Counsels ran against her Sentiments. In all which the Poet takes care to preserve her still in the Practice of that Wisdom of which she was Goddess.
Note VI.
VERSE 55. Let Priam bleed, &c.]
We find in Persius’s Satyrs the Name of Labeo, as an ill Poet who made a miserable Translation of the Iliad; one of whose Verses is still preserv’d, and happens to be that of this Place.
Crudum manduces Priamum, Priamique pisinnos.
It may seem from this, that his Translation was servilely literal (as the old Scholiast on Persius observes.) And one cannot but take notice that Ogilby’s and Hobbes’s in this Place are not unlike Labeo’s.
Both King and People thou would’st eat alive. And eat up Priam and his Children all.
Note VII.
VERSE 61. But should this Arm prepare to wreak our Hate On thy lov’d Towns— ]
Homer in this Place has made Jupiter to prophecy the Destruction of Mycenae the favour’d City of Juno, which happen’d a little before the Time of our Author. Strab. l. 8. The Trojan War being over, and the Kingdom of Agamemnon destroy’d, Mycenae daily decreas’d after the Return of the Heraclidae: For these becoming Masters of Peloponnesus, cast out the old Inhabitants; so that they who possess’d Argos overcame Mycenae also, and contracted both into one Body. A short time after, Mycenae was destroy’d by the Argives, and not the least Remains of it are now to be found.
Note VIII.
VERSE 96. Th’Advice approv’d. ]
This is one of the Places for which Homer is blamed by Plato, who introduces Socrates reprehending it in his Dialogue of the Republick. And indeed if it were granted that the Trojans had no Right to break this Treaty, the present Machine where Juno is made to propose Perjury, Jupiter to allow it, and Minerva to be commission’d to hasten the Execution of it, would be one of the hardest to be reconciled to reason in the whole Poem. Unless even then one might imagine, that Homer’s Heaven is sometimes no more than an Ideal World of abstracted Beings; and so every Motion which rises in the Mind of Man is attributed to the Quality to which it belongs, with the Name of the Deity who is suppos’d to preside over that Quality superadded to it. In this Sense the present Allegory is easy enough. Pandarus thinks it Prudence to gain Honour and Wealth at the Hands of the Trojans by destroying Menelaus. This Sentiment is also incited by a Notion of Glory, of which Juno is represented as Goddess. Jupiter who is suppos’d to know the Thoughts of Men, permits the Action which he is not Author of, but sends a Prodigy at the same time to give warning of a coming Mischief, and accordingly we find both Armies descanting upon the sight of it in the following Lines.
Note IX.
VERSE 120. Pandarus for Strength renown’d. ]
Homer, says Plutarch in his Treatise of the Pythian Oracle, makes not the Gods to use all Persons indifferently as their second Agents, but each according to the Powers he is endu’d with by Art or Nature. For a Proof of this, he puts us in Mind how Minerva when she would persuade the Greeks, seeks for Ulysses; when she would break the Truce, for Pandarus; and when she would conquer, for Diomed. If we consult the Scholia upon this Instance, they give several Reasons why Pandarus was particularly proper for the Occasion. The Goddess went not to the Trojans, because they hated Paris, and (as we are told in the end of the foregoing Book) would rather have given him up, than have done an ill Action for him: She therefore looks among the Allies, and finds Pandarus who was of a Nation noted for Perfidiousness, and had a Soul avaricious enough to be capable of engaging in this Treachery for the hopes of a Reward from Paris: as appears by his being so covetous as not to bring Horses to the Siege for fear of the Expence or Loss of them; as he tells Aeneas in the fifth Book.
Note X.
VERSE 141. Sixteen Palms. ]
Both the Horns together made this Length; and not each, as Madam Dacier renders it. I do not object it as an Improbability that the Horns were of sixteen Palms each; but that this would be an extravagant and unmanageable Size for a Bow, is evident.
Note XI.
VERSE 144. This, by the Greeks unseen, the Warrior bends. ]
The Poet having held us thro’ the foregoing Book in Expectation of a Peace, makes the Conditions be here broken after such a manner, as should oblige the Greeks to act thro’ the War with that irreconcileable Fury which affords him the Opportunity of exerting the full Fire of his own Genius. The Shot of Pandarus being therefore of such Consequence (and as he calls it, the [Greek], the Foundation of future Woes ) it was thought fit not to pass it over in a few Words, like the Flight of every common Arrow, but to give it a Description some way corresponding to its Importance. For this, he surrounds it with a Train of Circumstances; the History of the Bow, the bending it, the covering Pandarus with Shields, the Choice of the Arrow, the Prayer, and Posture of the Shooter, the Sound of the String, and Flight of the Shaft; all most beautifully, and livelily painted. It may be observed too, how proper a time it was to expatiate in these Particulars; when the Armies being unemploy’d, and only one Man acting, the Poet and his Readers had leisure to be the Spectators of a single and deliberate Action. I think it will be allow’d that the little Circumstances which are sometimes thought too redundant in Homer, have a wonderful Beauty in this Place. Virgil has not fail’d to copy it, and with the greatest Happiness imaginable.
Dixit, & auratâ volucrem Threissa sagittam Deprompsit pharetrâ, cornuque infensa tetendit, Et duxit longè, donec curvata coirent Inter se capita, & manibus jam tangeret aequis, Laevâ aciem ferri, dextrâ nervoque papillam. Extemplo teli stridorem aurasque sonantes Audiit unà Aruns, haesitque in corpore ferrum.
Note XII.
VERSE 160. Pallas assists, and weaken’d in its force Diverts the Weapon— ]
For she only designed, by all this Action, to encrease the Glory of the Greeks in the taking of Troy: Yet some Commentators have been so stupid as to wonder that Pallas should be employ’d first in the wounding of Menelaus, and after in the protecting him.
Note XIII.
VERSE 163. Wafts the wing’d Hornet. ]
This is one of those humble Comparisons which Homer sometimes uses to diversify his Subject, but a very exact one in its kind, and corresponding in all its Parts. The Care of the Goddess, the unsuspecting Security of Menelaus, the Ease with which she diverts the Danger, and the Danger itself, are all included in this short Compass. To which it may be added, that if the Providence of heavenly Powers to their Creatures is exprest by the Love of a Mother to her Child, if Men in regard to them are but as heedless sleeping Infants, and if those Dangers which may seem great to us, are by them as easily warded off as the Simile implies; there will appear something sublime in this Conception, however little or low the Image may be thought at first sight in respect to a Heroe. A higher Comparison would but have tended to lessen the Disparity between the Gods and Man, and the Justness of the Simile had been lost, as well as the Grandeur of the Sentiment.
Note XIV.
VERSE 170. As when some stately Trappings, &c.]
Some have judg’d the Circumstances in this Simile to be superfluous, and think it foreign to the Purpose to take notice that this Ivory was intended for the Bosses of a Bridle, was laid up for a Prince, or that a Woman of Caria or Meonia dy’d it. Eustathius was of a different Opinion, who extols this Passage for the Variety it presents, and the Learning it includes: We learn from hence that the Lydians and Carians were famous in the first Times for their staining in Purple, and that the Women excell’d in Works of Ivory: As also that there were certain Ornaments which only Kings and Princes were privileged to wear. But without having recourse to Antiquities to justify this Particular, it may be alledg’d, that the Simile does not consist barely in the Colours; It was but little to tell us, that the Blood of Menelaus appearing on the Whiteness of his Skin, vyed with the purpled Ivory; but this implies that the honourable Wounds of a Heroe are the beautiful Dress of War, and become him as much as the most gallant Ornaments in which he takes the Field. Virgil, ’tis true, has omitted the Circumstance in his Imitation of this Comparison, Aen. 12.
Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro Si quis ebur—
But in this he judges only for himself, and does not condemn Homer. It was by no means proper that his Ivory should have been a Piece of martial Accoutrement, when he apply’d it so differently, transferring it from the Wounds of a Heroe to the Blushes of the fair Lavinia.
Note XV.
VERSE 177. As down thy snowy Thigh. ]
Homer is very particular here, in giving the Picture of the Blood running in a long Trace, lower and lower, as will appear from the Words themselves.
[Greek]
The Translator has not thought fit to mention every one of these Parts, first the Thigh, then the Leg, then the Foot, which might be tedious in English: But the Author’s Design being only to image the streaming of the Blood, it seem’d equivalent to make it trickle thro’ the Length of an Alexandrine Line.
Note XVI.
VERSE 186. Oh dear as Life, &c.]
This Incident of the Wound of Menelaus gives occasion to Homer to draw a fine Description of fraternal Love in Agamemnon. On the first sight of it, he is struck with Amaze and Confusion, and now breaks out in Tenderness and Grief. He first accuses himself as the Cause of this Misfortune, by having consented to expose his Brother to the single Combate which had drawn on this fatal Consequence. Next he inveighs against the Trojans in general for their Perfidiousness, as not yet knowing it was the Act of Pandarus only. He then comforts himself with the Confidence that the Gods will revenge him upon Troy; but doubts by what Hands this Punishment may be inflicted, as fearing the Death of Menelaus will force the Greeks to return with Shame to their Country. There is no Contradiction in all this, but on the other side a great deal of Nature, in the confused Sentiments of Agamemnon on the occasion, as they are very well explained by Spondanus.
Note XVII.
VERSE 212. While some proud Trojan, &c. ]
Agamemnon here calls to mind how, upon the Death of his Brother, the ineffectual Preparations and Actions against Troy must become a Derision to the World. This is in its own Nature a very irritating Sentiment, tho’ it were never so carelesly exprest; but the Poet has found out a peculiar Air of Aggravation, in making him bring all the Consequences before his Eyes, in a Picture of their Trojan Enemies gathering round the Tomb of the unhappy Menelaus, elated with Pride, insulting the Dead, and throwing out disdainful Expressions and Curses against him and his Family. There is nothing which could more effectually represent a State of Anguish, than the drawing such an Image as this, which shews a Man increasing his present Unhappiness by the Prospect of a future Train of Misfortunes.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 222. Let not thy Words the Warmth of Greece abate. ]
In Agamemnon, Homer has shewn an Example of a tender Nature and fraternal Affection, and now in Menelaus he gives us one of a generous warlike Patience and Presence of Mind. He speaks of his own Case with no other Regard, but as this Accident of his Wound may tend to the Discouragement of the Soldiers; and exhorts the General to beware of dejecting their Spirits from the Prosecution of the War. Spondanus.
Note XIX.
VERSE 253. The Trojans rush tumultuous to the War. ]
They advanced to the Enemy in the Belief that the Shot of Pandarus was made by Order of the Generals. Dacier.
Note XX.
VERSE 256. Nor had you seen. ]
The Poet here changes his Narration, and turns himself to the Reader in an Apostrophe. Longinus in his 22d Chapter commends this Figure, as causing a Reader to become a Spectator, and keeping his Mind fixed upon the Action before him. The Apostrophe (says he) renders us more awaken’d, more attentive, and more full of the Thing described. Madam Dacier will have it, that it is the Muse who addresses herself to the Poet in the second Person: ’Tis no great matter which, since it has equally its Effect either way.
Note XXI.
VERSE 264. Thro’ all the martial Ranks he moves, &c.]
In the following Review of the Army, which takes up a great Part of this Book, we see all the Spirit, Art, and Industry of a compleat General; together with the proper Characters of those Leaders whom he incites. Agamemnon considers at this sudden Exigence, that he should first address himself to all in general; he divides his Discourse to the Brave and the Fearful, using Arguments which arise from Confidence or Despair, Passions which act upon us most forcibly: To the Brave, he urges their secure Hopes of Conquest since the Gods must punish Perjury; to the Timorous, their inevitable Destruction if the Enemy should burn their Ships. After this he flies from Rank to Rank, applying himself to each Ally with particular Artifice: He caresses Idomeneus as an old Friend who had promised not to forsake him; and meets with an Answer in that Hero’s true Character, short, honest, hearty, and Soldier-like. He praises the Ajaxes as Warriors whose Examples fired the Army; and is received by them without any Reply, as they were Men who did not profess Speaking. He passes next to Nestor, whom he finds talking to his Soldiers as he marshal’d them; here he was not to part without a Compliment on both sides; he wishes him the Strength he had once in his Youth, and is answer’d with an Account of something which the old Heroe had done in his former Days. From hence he goes to the Troops which lay farthest from the Place of Action; where he finds Menestheus and Ulysses, not intirely unprepar’d nor yet in Motion, as being ignorant of what had happen’d. He reproves Ulysses for this, with Words agreeable to the Hurry he is in, and receives an Answer which suits not ill with the twofold Character of a wise and a valiant Man: Hereupon Agamemnon appears present to himself, and excuses his hasty Expressions. The next he meets is Diomed, whom he also rebukes for Backwardness but after another manner, by setting before him the Example of his Father. Thus is Agamemnon introduced, praising, terrifying, exhorting, blaming, excusing himself, and again relapsing into Reproofs; a lively Picture of a great Mind in the highest Emotion. And at the same time the Variety is so kept up, with a regard to the different Characters of the Leaders, that our Thoughts are not tired with running along with him over all his Army.
Note XXII.
VERSE 296. For this, in Banquets. ]
The Ancients usually in their Feasts divided to the Guests by equal Portions, except when they took some particular occasion to shew Distinction and give the Preference to any one Person. It was then look’d upon as the highest Mark of Honour to be allotted the best Portion of Meat and Wine, and to be allowed an Exemption from the Laws of the Feast, in drinking Wine unmingled and without Stint. This Custom was much more ancient than the time of the Trojan War, and we find it practised in the Banquet given by Joseph to his Brethren in Aegypt, Gen. 43. ℣. ult. And he sent Messes to them from before him, but Benjamin ’s Mess was five times so much as any of theirs. Dacier.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 336. There rev’rend Nestor ranks his Pylian Bands. ]
This is the Prince whom Homer chiefly celebrates for martial Discipline, of the rest he is content to say they were valiant and ready to fight: The Years, long Observation and Experience of Nestor render’d him the fittest Person to be distinguished on this account. The Disposition of his Troops in this Place (together with what he is made to say, that their Fore-fathers used the same Method) may be a Proof that the Art of War was well known in Greece before the Time of Homer. Nor indeed can it be imagined otherwise, in an Age when all the World made their Acquisitions by Force of Arms only. What is most to be wonder’d at, is, that they had not the use of Cavalry, all Men engaging either on Foot, or from Chariots (a Particular necessary to be known by every Reader of Homer’s Battels.) In these Chariots there were always two Persons, one of whom only fought, the other was wholly employ’d in managing the Horses. Madam Dacier in her excellent Preface to Homer is of Opinion, that there were no Horsemen ’till near the Time of Saul, threescore Years after the Siege of Troy; so that altho’ Cavalry were in use in Homer’s Days, yet he thought himself obliged to regard the Customs of the Age of which he writ, rather than those of his own.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 344. The middle Space suspected Troops supply. ]
This Artifice, of placing those Men whose Behaviour was most to be doubted, in the middle, (so as to put them under a necessity of engaging even against their Inclinations) was followed by Hannibal in the Battel of Zama; as is observed and praised by Polybius, who quotes this Verse on that occasion in Acknowledgment of Homer’s Skill in military Discipline.
That our Author was the first Master of that Art in Greece is the Opinion of Aelian, Tactic. c. 1. Frontinus gives us another Example of Pyrrhus King of Epirus’s following this Instruction of Homer. Vide Stratag. lib. 2. c. 3. So Ammianus Marcellinus l. 14. Imperator catervis peditum infirmis, medium inter acies spacium, secundùm Homericam dispositionem, praestituit.
Note XXV.
VERSE 353. He whom the Fortune of the Field shall cast From forth his Chariot, mount the next —&c.]
The Words in the Original are capable of four different Significations, as Eustathius observes. The first is, that whoever in fighting upon his Chariot shall win a Chariot from his Enemy, he shall continue to fight, and not retire from the Engagement to secure his Prize. The second, that if any one be thrown out of his Chariot, he who happens to be nearest shall hold forth his Javelin to help him up into his own. The third is directly the contrary to the last, that if any one be cast from his Chariot and would mount up into another Man’s, that other shall push him back with his Javelin, and not admit him for fear of interrupting the Combate. The fourth is the Sense which is followed in the Translation as seeming much the most natural, that every one should be left to govern his own Chariot, and the other who is admitted fight only with the Javelin. The reason of this Advice appears by the Speech of Pandarus to Aeneas in the next Book: Aeneas having taken him up into his Chariot to go against Diomed, compliments him with the Choice either to fight, or to manage the Reins, which was esteem’d an Office of Honour. To this Pandarus answers, that it is more proper for Aeneas to guide his own Horses; lest they not feeling their accustomed Master, should be ungovernable and bring them into Danger.
Upon occasion of the various and contrary Significations of which these Words are said to be capable, and which Eustathius and Dacier profess to admire as an Excellence; Mons.
de la Motte in his late Discourse upon Homer very justly animadverts, that if this be true, it is a grievous Fault in Homer. For what can be more absurd than to imagine, that the Orders given in a Battel should be delivered in such ambiguous Terms, as to be capable of many Meanings? These double Interpretations must proceed not from any design in the Author, but purely from the Ignorance of the Moderns in the Greek Tongue: It being impossible for any one to possess the dead Languages to such a degree, as to be certain of all the Graces and Negligences; or to know precisely how far the Licences and Boldnesses of Expression were happy, or forced. But Criticks, to be thought learned, attribute to the Poet all the random Senses that amuse them, and imagine they see in a single Word a whole heap of Things, which no modern Language can express; so are oftentimes charmed with nothing but the Confusion of their own Ideas.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 385. Remote their Forces lay. ]
This is a Reason why the Troops of Ulysses and Menestheus were not yet in Motion. Tho’ another may be added in respect to the former, that it did not consist with the Wisdom of Ulysses to fall on with his Forces ’till he was well assured. Tho’ Courage be no inconsiderable Part of his Character, yet it is always join’d with great Caution. Thus we see him soon after in the very Heat of a Battel, when his Friend was just slain before his Eyes, first looking carefully about him, before he would throw his Spear to revenge him.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 431. I saw him once, when, &c.]
This long Narration concerning the History of Tydeus, is not of the Nature of those for which Homer has been blam’d with some Colour of Justice: It is not a cold Story but a warm Reproof, while the particularising the Actions of the Father is made the highest Incentive to the Son. Accordingly the Air of this Speech ought to be inspirited above the common Narrative Style. As for the Story itself, it is finely told by Statius in the second Book of the Thebais.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 453. No Words the Godlike Diomed return’d. ]
"When Diomed is reproved by Agamemnon, he holds his Peace in respect to his General, but Sthenelus retorts upon him with Boasting and Insolence. It is here worth observing in what manner Agamemnon behaves himself; he passes by Sthenelus without affording any Reply; whereas just before, when Ulysses testify’d his Resentment, he immediately return’d him an Answer. For as it is a mean and servile thing, and unbecoming the Majesty of a Prince, to make Apologies to every Man in Justification of what he has said or done; so to treat all Men with equal Neglect is meer Pride and Excess of Folly. We also see of Diomed, that tho’ he refrains from speaking in this Place when the Time demanded Action; he afterwards expresses himself in such a manner, as shews him not to have been insensible of this unjust Rebuke: ( as in the ninth Book ) when he tells the King, he was the first who had dar’d to reproach him with want of Courage."
Plutarch of reading the Poets.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 461. We storm’d the Theban Wall. ]
The first Theban War, of which Agamemnon spoke in the preceding Lines, was seven and twenty Years before the War of Troy. Sthenelus here speaks of the second Theban War, which happen’d ten Years after the first: when the Sons of the seven Captains conquer’d the City, before which their Fathers were destroyed. Tydeus expired gnawing the Head of his Enemy, and Capaneus was Thunder-struck while he blasphemed Jupiter. Vid. Stat. Thebaid.
Note XXX.
VERSE 479. As when the Winds. ]
Madam Dacier thinks it may seem something odd, that an Army going to conquer should be compared to the Waves going to break themselves against the Shore; and would solve the appearing Absurdity by imagining the Poet laid not the Stress so much upon this Circumstance, as upon the same Waves assaulting a Rock, lifting themselves over its Head, and covering it with Foam as the Trophy of their Victory (as she expresses it.) But to this it may be answer’d, that neither did the Greeks get the better in this Battel, nor will a Comparison be allowed intirely beautiful, which instead of illustrating its Subject stands itself in need of so much Illustration and Refinement, to be brought to agree with it. The Passage naturally bears this Sense. As when, upon the rising of the Wind, the Waves roll after one another to the Shore; at first there is a distant Motion in the Sea, then they approach to break with Noise on the Strand, and lastly rise swelling over the Rocks, and toss their Foam above their Heads: So the Greeks, at first, marched in order one after another silently to the Fight— Where the Poet breaks off from prosecuting the Comparison, and by a Prolepsis, leaves the Reader to carry it on; and image to himself the future Tumult, Rage, and Force of the Battel, in Opposition to that Silence in which he describes the Troops at present, in the Lines immediately ensuing. What confirms this Exposition is, that Virgil has made use of the Simile in the same Sense in the seventh Aeneid.
Fluctus uti primo coepit cùm albescere vento, Paulatim sese tollit mare, & altiùs undas Erigit; inde imo consurgit ad aethera fundo.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 479. As when the Winds, &c.]
This is the first Battel in Homer, and it is worthy Observation with what Grandeur it is described, and raised by one Circumstance above another, ’till all is involved in Horror and Tumult: The foregoing Simile of the Winds, rising by degrees into a general Tempest, is an Image of the Progress of his own Spirit in this Description. We see first an innumerable Army moving in order, and are amus’d with the Pomp and Silence, then waken’d with the Noise and Clamour; next they join, the adverse Gods are let down among them; the Imaginary Persons of Terror, Flight, Discord succeed to re-inforce them; then all is undistinguish’d Fury and a Confusion of Horrors, only that at different Openings we behold the distinct Deaths of several Heroes, and then are involv’d again in the same Confusion.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 503. Discord, dire Sister, &c.]
This is the Passage so highly extoll’d by Longinus, as one of the most signal Instances of the noble Sublimity of this Author: where it is said, that the Image here drawn of Discord, whose Head touch’d the Heavens, and whose Feet were on Earth, may as justly be apply’d to the vast Reach and Elevation of the Genius of Homer. But Mons. Boileau informs us that neither the Quotation nor these Words were in the Original of Longinus, but partly inserted by Gabriel de Petra. However the best Encomium is, that Virgil has taken it word for word, and apply’d it to the Person of Fame.
Parva metu primo, mox sese attollit in auras, Ingrediturque solo, & caput inter nubila condit.
Aristides had formerly blamed Homer for admitting Discord into Heaven, and Scaliger takes up the Criticism to throw him below Virgil. Fame (he says) is properly feign’d to hide her Head in the Clouds, because the Grounds and Authors of Rumours are commonly unknown. As if the same might not be alledg’d for Homer, since the Grounds and Authors of Discord are often no less secret. Macrobius has put this among the Passages where he thinks Virgil has fallen short in his Imitation of Homer, and brings these Reasons for his Opinion. Homer represents Discord to rise from small beginnings, and afterwards in her Encrease to reach the Heavens: Virgil has said this of Fame, but not with equal Propriety; for the Subjects are very different. Discord, tho’ it reaches to War and Devastation, is still Discord; nor ceases to be what it was at first. But Fame, when it grows to be universal, is Fame no longer, but becomes Knowledge and Certainty. For who calls any thing Fame, which is known from Earth to Heaven? Nor has Virgil equal’d the Strength of Homer’s Hyperbole, for one speaks of Heaven, the other only of the Clouds. Macrob. Sat. l. 5. c. 13. Scaliger is very angry at this last Period, and by mistake blames Gellius for it, in whom there is no such thing. His Words are so insolently dogmatical, that barely to quote them is to answer them, and the only Answer which such a Spirit of Criticism deserves. Clamant quòd Maro de Fama dixit eam inter nubila caput condere, cùm tamen Homerus unde ipse accepit, in coelo caput Eridis constituit. Jam tibi pro me respondeo. Non sum imitatus, nolo imitari: non placet, non est verum, Contentionem ponere caput in coelo. Ridiculum est, fatuum est, Homericum est, Graeculum est. Poetic. l. 5. c. 3.
This fine Verse was also criticiz’d by Mons. Perault, who accuses it as a forc’d and extravagant Hyperbole. M. Boileau answers, that Hyperboles as strong are daily used even in common Discourse, and that nothing is in effect more strictly true than that Discord reigns over all the Earth, and in Heaven itself, that is to say, among the Gods of Homer. It is not (continues this excellent Critick) the Description of a Giant, as this Censor would pretend, but a just Allegory; and as he makes Discord an allegorical Person, she may be of what Size he pleases without shocking us; since it is what we regard only as an Idea and Creature of the Fancy, and not as a material Substance that has any Being in Nature. The Expression in the Psalms, that the impious Man is lifted up as a Cedar of Libanus, does by no means imply that the impious Man was a Giant as tall as the Cedar. Thus far Boileau; and upon the whole we may observe, that it seems not only the Fate of great Genius’s to have met with the most malignant Criticks, but of the finest and noblest Passages in them to have been particularly pitch’d upon for impertinent Criticisms. These are the divine Boldnesses which in their very Nature provoke Ignorance and Short-sightedness to shew themselves; and which whoever is capable of attaining, must also certainly know, that they will be attack’d by such as cannot reach them.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 509. Now Shield with Shield, &c.]
The Verses which follow in the Original are perhaps excell’d by none in Homer; and that he had himself a particular Fondness for them, may be imagin’d from his inserting them again in the same Words in the eighth Book. They are very happily imitated by Statius lib. 7.
Jam clypeus clypeis, umbone repellitur umbo, Ense minax ensis, pede pes, & cuspide cuspis, &c.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 517. As Torrents roll. ]
This Comparison of Rivers meeting and roaring, with two Armies mingling in Battel, is an Image of that Nobleness, which (to say no more) was worthy the Invention of Homer and the Imitation of Virgil.
Aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis, Dant sonitum spumosi amnes, & in aequora currunt, Quisque suum populatus iter;—Stupet inscius alto Accipiens sonitum saxi de vertice Pastor.
The word populatus here has a Beauty which one must be insensible not to observe. Scaliger prefers Virgil’s, and Macrobius Homer’s, without any Reasons on either side, but only one Critick’s positive Word against another’s. The Reader may judge between them.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 523. The bold Antilochus.]
Antilochus the Son of Nestor is the first who begins the Engagement. It seems as if the old Hero having done the greatest Service he was capable of at his Years, in disposing the Troops in the best order (as we have seen before) had taken care to set his Son at the head of them, to give him the Glory of beginning the Battel.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 540. As o’er their Prey rapacious Wolves engage. ]
This short Comparison in the Greek consists only of two Words, [Greek], which Scaliger observes upon as too abrupt. But may it not be answer’d that such a Place as this, where all things are in Confusion, seems not to admit of any Simile, except of one which scarce exceeds a Metaphor in Length? When two Heroes are engag’d, there is a plain View to be given us of their Actions, and there a long Simile may be of use, to raise and enliven them by parallel Circumstances; but when the Troops fall in promiscuously upon one another, the Conclusion excludes distinct or partiticular Images, and consequently Comparisons of any Length would be less natural.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 542. In bloom of Youth fair Simoisius fell. ]
This Prince receiv’d his Name from the River Simois on whose Banks he was born. It was the Custom of the Eastern People to give Names to their Children deriv’d from the most remarkable Accidents of their Birth. The holy Scripture is full of Examples of this kind. It is also usual in the Old Testament to compare Princes to Trees, Cedars, &c. as Simoisius is here resembled to a Poplar. Dacier.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 552. So falls a Poplar. ]
Eustathius in Macrobius prefers to this Simile that of Virgil in the second Aeneid.
Ac veluti in summis antiquam montibus ornum, Cum ferro accisam crebrisque bipennibus instant
Eruere agricolae certatim; illa usque minatur, Et tremefacta comam concusso vertice nutat; Vulneribus donec paulatim evicta supremùm Congemuit, traxitque jugis avulsa ruinam.
Mr. Hobbes in the Preface to his Translation of Homer has discours’d upon this Occasion very judiciously. Homer (says he) intended no more in this Place than to shew how comely the Body of Simoisius appear’d as he lay dead upon the Bank of Scamander, strait and tall, with a fair Head of Hair, like a strait and high Poplar with the Boughs still on; and not at all to describe the manner of his falling, which (when a Man is wounded thro’ the Breast as he was with a Spear) is always sudden. Virgil’s is the Description of a great Tree falling when many Men together hew it down. He meant to compare the manner how Troy after many Battels, and after the Loss of many Cities, conquer’d by the many Nations under Agamemnon in a long War, was thereby weaken’d and at last overthrown, with a great Tree hewn round about, and then falling by little and little leisurely. So that neither these two Descriptions nor the two Comparisons can be compared together. The Image of a Man lying on the Ground is one thing; the Image of falling (especially of a Kingdom) is another. This therefore gives no Advantage to Virgil over Homer. Thus Mr. Hobbes.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 585. But Phoebus now. ]
Homer here introduces Apollo on the side of the Trojans: He had given them the Assistance of Mars at the beginning of this Battel; but Mars (which signifies Courage without Conduct) proving too weak to resist Minerva (or Courage with Conduct) which the Poet represents as constantly aiding his Greeks; they want some prudent Management to rally them again: He therefore brings in a Wisdom to assist Mars, under the Appearance of Apollo.
Note XL.
VERSE 592. Achilles fights no more. ]
Homer from time to time puts his Readers in mind of Achilles, during his Absence from the War; and finds occasions of celebrating his Valour with the highest Praises. There cannot be a greater Encomium than this, where Apollo himself tells the Trojans they have nothing to fear, since Achilles fights no longer against them. Dacier.
Note XLI.
VERSE 630. Had some brave Chief. ]
The turning off in this Place from the Actions of the Field, to represent to us a Man with Security and Calmness walking thro’ it, without being able to reprehend any thing in the whole Action; this is not only a fine Praise of the Battel, but as it were a Breathing-place to the Poetical Spirit of the Author, after having rapidly run along with the Heat of the Engagement: He seems like one who having got over a Part of his Journey, stops upon an Eminence to look back upon the Space he has pass’d, and concludes the Book with an agreeable Pause or Respite.
The Reader will excuse our taking notice of such a Trifle, as that it was an old Superstition, that this fourth Book of the Iliads being laid under the Head, was a Cure for the Quartan Ague. Serenus Sammonicus, a celebrated Physician in the time of the younger Gordian and Preceptor to that Emperor, has gravely prescrib’d it among other Receipts in his medicinal Precepts, Praec. 50.
Moeoniae Iliados quartum suppone timenti.
I believe it will be found a true Observation, that there never was any thing so absurd or ridiculous, but has at one time or other been written even by some Author of Reputation: A Reflection it may not be improper for Writers to make, as being at once some Mortification to their Vanity, and some Comfort to their Infirmity.
Book V THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
DIOMED, assisted by Pallas, performs Wonders in this Day’s Battel. Pandarus wounds him with an Arrow, but the Goddess cures him, enables him to discern Gods from Mortals, and prohibits him from contending with any of the former, excepting Venus. Aeneas joins Pandarus to oppose him, Pandarus is killed, and Aeneas in great danger but for the Assistance of Venus; who, as she is removing her Son from the Fight, is wounded on the Hand by Diomed. Apollo seconds her in his Rescue, and at length carries off Aeneas to Troy, where he is heal’d in the Temple of Pergamus. Mars rallies the Trojans, and assists Hector to make a Stand. In the mean time Aeneas is restor’d to the Field, and they overthrow several of the Greeks; among the rest Tlepolemus is slain by Sarpedon. Juno and Minerva descend to resist Mars; the latter incites Diomed to go against that God; he wounds him, and sends him groaning to Heaven. The first Battel continues thro’ this Book. The Scene is the same as in the former.
Index to The Argument
- [1-14] Athena ignites Diomedes; blazing arms
- [15-34] Sons of Dares: Phegeus slain, Idaeus saved
- [37-48] Athena stays Ares; both gods withdraw
- [49-109] Greek leaders cut down Trojans
- [110-125] Diomedes’ torrent: Trojans driven
- [126-145] Pandarus’ arrow wounds Diomedes
- [146-173] Prayer answered: cure & god-sight; license vs. Venus
- [174-211] Renewed aristeia: Diomedes kills in heaps
- [212-297] Aeneas finds Pandarus; they mount one car
- [298-337] Sthenelus warns; Diomedes refuses; prize the divine horses
- [338-368] Clash: Pandarus’ spear fails; Pandarus slain
- [369-406] Aeneas crushed; Venus rescues; Sthenelus captures the team
- [407-438] Venus wounded by Diomedes
- [441-522] Venus to Olympus; Dione consoles; Zeus assigns ‘softer wars’
- [523-549] Diomedes fronts Apollo; Aeneas healed; phantom set
- [551-600] Apollo rouses Ares; Sarpedon shames Hector
- [601-634] Hector rallies; dust-cloud and Mars’ shadow; Aeneas returns
- [635-668] Greek phalanx holds; Agamemnon kills Deicoon
- [669-704] Aeneas’ counterblow; Menelaus checked by Antilochus
- [705-721] Pylaemenes and Mydon fall; chariot taken
- [722-749] Hector with Mars and Bellona drives in; Diomedes counsels steady retreat
- [750-771] Hector slays two; Ajax kills Amphius but cannot strip him
- [772-825] Duel: Tlepolemus vs. Sarpedon
- [826-857] Odysseus cuts down Lycians; Hector charges; Sarpedon rescued
- [860-873] Greek fighting retreat; Mars and Hector’s tally
- [874-955] Hera and Athena arm; petition Zeus; leave to curb Ares
- [956-985] Descent by Simois; Juno as Stentor rouses the Greeks
- [986-1027] Athena rebukes Diomedes; orders him at Ares
- [1028-1057] Athena takes the reins; Ares wounded
- [1058-1121] Ares’ complaint; Zeus’ rebuke; Paeon heals; close
- [459-522] Scene: Olympus — Venus succoured
- [541-549] Scene: Troy — Pergamus temple
- [940-955] Scene: Olympus — Hera’s plea to Zeus
- [1064-1119] Scene: Olympus — Ares healed
BUT Pallas now Tydides Soul inspires,
Fills with her Force, and warms with all her Fires,
Above the Greeks his deathless Fame to raise,
And crown her Hero with distinguish’d Praise.
High on his Helm Celestial Lightnings play,
His beamy Shield emits a living Ray;
Th’ unweary’d Blaze incessant Streams supplies,
Like the red Star that fires th’ Autumnal Skies,
When fresh he rears his radiant Orb to Sight,
And bath’d in Ocean, shoots a keener Light.
Such Glories Pallas on the Chief bestow’d,
Such, from his Arms, the fierce Effulgence flow’d:
Onward she drives him, furious to engage,
Where the Fight burns, and where the thickest rage.
The Sons of Dares first the Combate sought,
A wealthy Priest, but rich without a Fault;
In Vulcan’s Fane the Father’s Days were led,
The Sons to Toils of glorious Battel bred;
These singled from their Troops the Fight maintain,
These from their Steeds, Tydides on the Plain.
Fierce for Renown the Brother Chiefs draw near,
And first bold Phegeus cast his sounding Spear,
Which o’er the Warrior’s Shoulder took its Course,
And spent in empty Air its erring Force.
Not so, Tydides, flew thy Lance in vain,
But pierc’d his Breast, and stretch’d him on the Plain.
Seiz’d with unusual Fear Idaeus fled,
Left the rich Chariot, and his Brother dead;
And had not Vulcan lent Celestial Aid,
He too had sunk to Death’s Eternal Shade;
But in a smoaky Cloud the God of Fire
Preserv’d the Son, in Pity to the Sire.
The Steeds and Chariot, to the Navy led,
Encreas’d the Spoils of gallant Diomed.
Struck with Amaze, and Shame, the Trojan Crew
Or slain, or fled, the Sons of Dares view:
When by the blood-stain’d Hand Minerva prest
The God of Battels, and this Speech addrest.
Stern Pow’r of War! by whom the Mighty fall,
Who bath’st in Blood, and shak’st the lofty Wall!
Let the brave Chiefs their glorious Toils divide;
And whose the Conquest, mighty Jove decide:
While we from interdicted Fields retire,
Nor tempt the Wrath of Heav’ns avenging Sire.
Her Words allay th’ impetuous Warrior’s Heat,
The God of Arms and Martial Maid retreat;
Remov’d from Fight, on Xanthus- flow’ry Bounds
They sate, and listen’d to the dying Sounds.
Meantime the Greeks the Trojan Race pursue,
And some bold Chieftain ev’ry Leader slew:
50First Odius falls, and bites the bloody Sand,
His Death ennobled by Atrides’ Hand;
As he to Flight his wheeling Car addrest,
The speedy Javelin drove from Back to Breast.
In Dust the mighty Halizonian lay,
His Arms resound, the Spirit wings its way.
Thy Fate was next, O Phaestus! doom’d to feel
The great Idomeneus’ protended Steel;
Whom Borus sent (his Son and only Joy)
From fruitful Tarne to the Fields of Troy.
The Cretan Javelin reach’d him from afar,
And pierc’d his Shoulder as he mounts his Car;
Back from the Car he tumbles to the Ground,
And everlasting Shades his Eyes surround.
Then dy’d Scamandrius, expert in the Chace,
In Woods and Wilds to wound the Savage Race;
Diana taught him all her Sylvan Arts,
To bend the Bow and aim unerring Darts:
But vainly here Diana’s Arts he tries,
The fatal Lance arrests him as he flies;
From Menelaus’ Arm the Weapon sent,
Thro’ his broad Back and heaving Bosom went:
Down sinks the Warrior with a thundring Sound,
His Brazen Armor rings against the Ground.
Next artful Phereclus untimely fell;
Bold Merion sent him to the Realms of Hell.
Thy Father’s Skill, O Phereclus, was thine,
The graceful Fabrick and the fair Design;
For lov’d by Pallas, Pallas did impart
To him the Shipwright’s and the Builder’s Art.
Beneath his Hand the Fleet of Paris rose,
The fatal Cause of all his Country’s Woes,
But he, the mystick Will of Heav’n unknown,
Nor saw his Country’s Peril, nor his own.
The hapless Artist, while confus’d he fled,
The Spear of Merion mingled with the Dead.
Thro’ his right Hip with forceful Fury cast,
Between the Bladder and the Bone it past:
Prone on his Knees he falls with fruitless Cries,
And Death in lasting Slumber seals his Eyes.
From Meges’ Force the swift Pedaeus fled,
Antenor’s Offspring from a foreign Bed,
Whose gen’rous Spouse, Theano, heav’nly Fair,
Nurs’d the young Stranger with a Mother’s Care.
How vain those Cares! when Meges in the Rear
Full in his Nape infix’d the fatal Spear;
Swift thro’ his crackling Jaws the Weapon glides,
And the cold Tongue and grinning Teeth divides.
Then dy’d Hypsenor, gen’rous and divine,
Sprung from the brave Dolopion’s mighty Line,
100Who near ador’d Scamander made Abode,
Priest of the Stream, and honour’d as a God.
On him, amidst the flying Numbers found,
Eurypilus inflicts a deadly Wound;
On his broad Shoulder fell the forceful Brand,
Thence glancing downward lopp’d his Holy Hand,
Which stain’d with sacred Blood the blushing Sand.
Down sunk the Priest: the Purple Hand of Death
Clos’d his dim Eye, and Fate suppress’d his Breath.
Thus toil’d the Chiefs in diff’rent Parts engag’d,
In ev’ry Quarter fierce Tydides rag’d,
Amid the Greek, amid the Trojan Train,
Rapt thro’ the Ranks he thunders o’er the Plain,
Now here, now there, he darts from Place to Place,
Pours on the Rear, or lightens in their Face.
Thus from high Hills the Torrents swift and strong
Deluge whole Fields, and sweep the Trees along,
Thro’ ruin’d Moles the rushing Wave resounds,
O’erwhelms the Bridge, and bursts the lofty Bounds;
The yellow Harvests of the ripen’d Year,
And flatted Vineyards, one sad Waste appear;
While Jove descends in sluicy Sheets of Rain,
And all the Labours of Mankind are vain.
So rag’d Tydides, boundless in his Ire,
Drove Armies back, and made all Troy retire.
With Grief the Leader of the Lycian Band
Saw the wide Waste of his destructive Hand:
His bended Bow against the Chief he drew;
Swift to the Mark the thirsty Arrow flew,
Whose forky Point the hollow Breastplate tore,
Deep in his Shoulder pierc’d, and drank the Gore:
The rushing Stream his Brazen Armor dy’d,
While the proud Archer thus exulting cry’d.
Hither ye Trojans, hither drive your Steeds!
Lo! by our Hand the bravest Grecian bleeds.
Not long the deathful Dart he can sustain;
Or Phaebus urg’d me to these Fields in vain.
So spoke he, boastful; but the winged Dart
Stopt short of Life, and mock’d the Shooter’s Art.
The wounded Chief behind his Car retir’d,
The helping Hand of Sthenelus requir’d;
Swift from his Seat he leap’d upon the Ground,
And tugg’d the Weapon from the gushing Wound;
When thus the King his Guardian Pow’r addrest,
The purple Current wand’ring o’er his Vest.
O Progeny of Jove! unconquer’d Maid!
If e’er my Godlike Sire deserv’d thy Aid,
If e’er I felt thee in the fighting Field;
Now, Goddess, now, thy sacred Succour yield.
Oh give my Lance to reach the Trojan Knight,
150Whose Arrow wounds the Chief thou guard’st in Fight;
And lay the Boaster grov’ling on the Shore,
That vaunts these Eyes shall view the Light no more.
Thus pray’d Tydides, and Minerva heard,
His Nerves confirm’d, his languid Spirits chear’d;
He feels each Limb with wonted Vigor light;
His beating Bosom claims the promis’d Fight.
Be bold (she cry’d) in ev’ry Combate shine,
War be thy Province, thy Protection mine;
Rush to the Fight, and ev’ry Foe controul;
Wake each Paternal Virtue in thy Soul:
Strength swells thy boiling Breast, infus’d by me,
And all thy Godlike Father breathes in thee!
Yet more, from mortal Mists I purge thy Eyes,
And set to View the warring Deities.
These see thou shun, thro’ all th’ embattled Plain,
Nor rashly strive where human Force is vain.
If Venus mingle in the martial Band,
Her shalt thou wound: So Pallas gives Command.
With that, the blue-ey’d Virgin wing’d her Flight;
The Hero rush’d impetuous to the Fight;
With tenfold Ardor now invades the Plain,
Wild with Delay, and more enrag’d by Pain.
As on the fleecy Flocks, when Hunger calls,
Amidst the Field a brindled Lyon falls;
If chance some Shepherd with a distant Dart
The Savage wound, he rowzes at the Smart,
He foams, he roars; The Shepherd dares not stay,
But trembling leaves the scatt’ring Flocks a Prey.
Heaps fall on Heaps; he bathes with Blood the Ground,
Then leaps victorious o’er the lofty Mound.
Not with less Fury stern Tydides flew,
And two brave Leaders at an Instant slew;
Astynous breathless fell, and by his side
His People’s Pastor, good Hypenor, dy’d;
Astynous’ Breast the deadly Lance receives,
Hypenor’s Shoulder his broad Faulchion cleaves.
Those slain he left; and sprung with noble Rage
Abas, and Polyidus to engage;
Sons of Eurydamas, who wise and old,
Could Fates foresee, and mystic Dreams unfold;
The Youths return’d not from the doubtful Plain,
And the sad Father try’d his Arts in vain;
No mystic Dream could make their Fates appear,
Tho’ now determin’d by Tydides’ Spear.
Young Xanthus next and Thoon felt his Rage,
The Joy and Hope of Phoenops feeble Age,
Vast was his Wealth, and these the only Heirs
Of all his Labours, and a Life of Cares;
Cold Death o’ertakes them in their blooming Years,
200And leaves the Father unavailing Tears:
To Strangers now descends his heapy Store,
The Race forgotten, and the Name no more.
Two Sons of Priam in one Chariot ride,
Glitt’ring in Arms, and combate Side by Side.
As when the lordly Lyon seeks his Food
Where grazing Heifers range the lonely Wood,
He leaps amidst them with a furious Bound,
Bends their strong Necks, and tears them to the Ground.
So from their Seats the Brother-Chiefs are torn,
Their Steeds and Chariot to the Navy born.
With deep Concern divine Aeneas view’d
The Foe prevailing, and his Friends pursu’d,
Thro’ the thick Storm of singing Spears he flies,
Exploring Pandarus with careful Eyes.
At length he found Lycaon’s mighty Son;
To whom the Chief of Venus’ Race begun.
Where, Pandarus, are all thy Honours now,
Thy winged Arrows and unerring Bow,
Thy matchless Skill, thy yet-unrival’d Fame,
And boasted Glory of the Lycian Name?
Oh pierce that Mortal, if we Mortal call
That wondrous Force by which whole Armies fall,
Or God incens’d, who quits the distant Skies
To punish Troy for slighted Sacrifice;
(Which oh avert from our unhappy State!
For what so dreadful as Celestial Hate?)
Whoe’er he be, propitiate Jove with Pray’r;
If Man, destroy; if God, entreat to spare.
To him the Lycian. Whom your Eyes behold,
If right I judge, is Diomed the bold.
Such Coursers whirl him o’er the dusty Field,
So tow’rs his Helmet, and so flames his Shield.
If ’tis a God, he wears that Chief’s Disguise;
Or if that Chief, some Guardian of the Skies
Involv’d in Clouds, protects him in the Fray,
And turns unseen the frustrate Dart away.
I wing’d an Arrow, which not idly fell,
The Stroke had fix’d him to the Gates of Hell,
And, but some God, some angry God withstands,
His Fate was due to these unerring Hands.
Skill’d in the Bow, on Foot I sought the War,
Nor join’d swift Horses to the rapid Car.
Ten polish’d Chariots I possess’d at home,
And still they grace Lycaon’s Princely Dome:
There veil’d in spacious Coverlets they stand;
And twice ten Coursers wait their Lord’s Command.
The good old Warrior bade me trust to these,
When first for Troy I sail’d the sacred Seas,
In Fields, aloft, the whirling Car to guide,
250And thro’ the Ranks of Death triumphant ride.
But vain with Youth, and yet to Thrift inclin’d,
I heard his Counsels with unheedful Mind,
And thought the Steeds (your large Supplies unknown)
Might fail of Forage in the straiten’d Town:
So took my Bow and pointed Darts in hand,
And left the Chariots in my Native Land.
Too late, O Friend! my Rashness I deplore;
These Shafts, once fatal, carry Death no more.
Tydeus’ and Atreus’ Sons their Points have found,
And undissembled Gore pursu’d the Wound.
In vain they bled: This unavailing Bow
Serves not to slaughter, but provoke the Foe.
In evil Hour these bended Horns I strung,
And seiz’d the Quiver where it idly hung.
Curs’d be the Fate that sent me to the Field,
Without a Warrior’s Arms, the Spear and Shield!
If e’er with Life I quit the Trojan Plain,
If e’er I see my Spouse and Sire again,
This Bow, unfaithful to my glorious Aims,
Broke by my Hand, shall feed the blazing Flames.
To whom the Leader of the Dardan Race:
Be calm, nor Phoebus’ honour’d Gift disgrace.
The distant Dart be prais’d, tho’ here we need
The rushing Chariot, and the bounding Steed.
Against yon’ Hero let us bend our Course,
And, Hand to Hand, encounter Force with Force.
Now haste, ascend my Seat, and from the Car
Observe my Father’s Steeds, renown’d in War,
Practis’d alike to turn, to stop, to chace,
To dare the Shock, or urge the rapid Race:
Secure with these, thro’ fighting Fields we go,
Or safe to Troy, if Jove assist the Foe.
Haste, seize the Whip, and snatch the guiding Rein;
The Warrior’s Fury let this Arm sustain;
Or if to Combate thy bold Heart incline,
Take thou the Spear, the Chariot’s Care be mine.
O Prince! ( Lycaon’s valiant Son reply’d)
As thine the Steeds, be thine the Task to guide.
The Horses practis’d to their Lord’s Command,
Shall hear the Rein, and answer to thy Hand.
But if unhappy, we desert the Fight,
Thy Voice alone can animate their Flight:
Else shall our Fates be number’d with the Dead,
And these, the Victor’s Prize, in Triumph led.
Thine be the Guidance then: With Spear and Shield
My self will charge this Terror of the Field.
And now both Heroes mount the glitt’ring Car;
The bounding Coursers rush amidst the War.
Their fierce Approach bold Sthenelus espy’d,
300Who thus, alarm’d, to great Tydides cry’d.
O Friend! two Chiefs of Force immense I see,
Dreadful they come, and bend their Rage on thee:
Lo the brave Heir of old Lycaon’s Line,
And great Aeneas, sprung from Race Divine!
Enough is giv’n to Fame. Ascend thy Car;
And save a Life, the Bulwark of our War.
At this the Hero cast a gloomy Look,
Fix’d on the Chief with Scorn, and thus he spoke.
Me dost thou bid to shun the coming Fight,
Me would’st thou move to base inglorious Flight?
Know, ’tis not honest in my Soul to fear,
Nor was Tydides born to tremble here.
I loath in lazy Fights to press the Car,
At distance wound, or wage a flying War;
But while my Nerves are strung, my Force entire,
Thus front the Foe, and emulate my Sire.
Nor shall yon’ Steeds that fierce to Fight convey
Those threatning Heroes, bear them both away;
One Chief at least beneath this Arm shall die;
So Pallas tells me, and forbids to fly.
But if she dooms, and if no God withstand,
That both shall fall by one victorious Hand;
Then heed my Words: My Horses here detain,
Fix’d to the Chariot by the straiten’d Rein;
Swift to Aeneas’ empty Seat proceed,
And seize the Coursers of Aetherial Breed.
The Race of those which once the thund’ring God
For ravish’d Ganymede on Tros bestow’d,
The best that e’er on Earth’s broad Surface run,
Beneath the rising or the setting Sun.
Hence great Anchises stole a Breed unknown
By mortal Mares, from fierce Laomedon.
Four of this Race his ample Stalls contain,
And two transport Aeneas o’er the Plain.
These, were the rich immortal Prize our own,
Thro’ the wide World should make our Glory known.
Thus while they spoke, the Foe came furious on,
And stern Lycaon’s warlike Race begun.
Prince, thou art met. Tho’ late in vain assail’d,
The Spear may enter where the Arrow fail’d.
He said, then shook the pondrous Lance and flung,
On his broad Shield the sounding Weapon rung,
Pierc’d the tough Orb, and in his Cuirass hung.
He bleeds! The Pride of Greece! (the Boaster cries)
Our Triumph now, the mighty Warrior lies!
Mistaken Vaunter! Diomed reply’d;
Thy Dart has err’d, and now my Spear be try’d:
Ye scape not both; One, headlong from his Car,
With hostile Blood shall glut the God of War.
350He spoke, and rising hurl’d his forceful Dart,
Which driv’n by Pallas, pierc’d a vital Part;
Full in his Face it enter’d, and betwixt
The Nose and Eye-ball the proud Lycian fixt;
Crash’d all his Jaws, and cleft the Tongue within,
’Till the bright Point look’d out beneath the Chin.
Headlong he falls, his Helmet knocks the Ground;
Earth groans beneath him, and his Arms resound;
The starting Coursers tremble with Affright;
The Soul indignant seeks the Realms of Night.
To guard his slaughter’d Friend, Aeneas flies,
His Spear extending where the Carcass lies;
Watchful he wheels, protects it ev’ry way,
As the grim Lyon stalks around his Prey.
O’er the fall’n Trunk his ample Shield display’d,
He hides the Hero with his mighty Shade.
And threats aloud: The Greeks with longing Eyes
Behold at distance, but forbear the Prize.
Then fierce Tydides stoops; and from the Fields
Heav’d with vast Force, a Rocky Fragment wields.
Not two strong Men th’ enormous Weight could raise,
Such Men as live in these degen’rate Days.
He swung it round; and gath’ring Strength to throw,
Discharg’d the pond’rous Ruin at the Foe.
Where to the Hip th’ inserted Thigh unites,
Full on the Bone the pointed Marble lights;
Thro’ both the Tendons broke the rugged Stone,
And stripp’d the Skin, and crack’d the solid Bone.
Sunk on his Knees and stagg’ring with his Pains,
His falling Bulk his bended Arm sustains;
Lost in a dizzy Mist the Warrior lies;
A sudden Cloud comes swimming o’er his Eyes.
There the brave Chief who mighty Numbers sway’d
Oppress’d had sunk to Death’s Eternal Shade,
But Heav’nly Venus, mindful of the Love
She bore Anchises in th’ Idaean Grove,
His Danger views with Anguish and Despair,
And guards her Offspring with a Mother’s Care.
About her much-lov’d Son her Arms she throws,
Her Arms whose Whiteness match’d the falling Snows.
Screen’d from the Foe behind her shining Veil,
The Swords wave harmless, and the Javelins fail:
Safe thro’ the rushing Horse and feather’d Flight
Of sounding Shafts, she bears him from the Fight.
Nor Sthenelus, with unassisting Hands,
Remain’d unheedful of his Lord’s Commands:
His panting Steeds, remov’d from out the War,
He fix’d with straiten’d Traces to the Car.
Next rushing to the Dardan Spoil, detains
The heav’nly Coursers with the flowing Manes.
400These in proud Triumph to the Fleet convey’d,
No longer now a Trojan Lord obey’d.
That Charge to bold Deipylus he gave,
(Whom most he lov’d, as brave Men love the Brave)
Then mounting on his Car, resum’d the Rein,
And follow’d where Tydides swept the Plain.
Meanwhile (his Conquest ravish’d from his Eyes)
The raging Chief in chace of Venus flies:
No Goddess She, commission’d to the Field,
Like Pallas dreadful with her sable Shield,
Or fierce Bellona thund’ring at the Wall,
While Flames ascend, and mighty Ruins fall.
He knew soft Combates suit the tender Dame,
New to the Field, and still a Foe to Fame.
Thro’ breaking Ranks his furious Course he bends,
And at the Goddess his broad Lance extends;
Thro’ her bright Veil the daring Weapon drove
Th’ Ambrosial Veil which all the Graces wove:
Her snowie Hand the razing Steel profan’d,
And the transparent Skin with Crimson stain’d.
From the clear Vein a Stream immortal flow’d,
Such Stream as issues from a wounded God;
Pure Emanation! uncorrupted Flood;
Unlike our gross, diseas’d, terrestrial Blood:
(For not the Bread of Man their Life sustains,
No Wine’s inflaming Juice supplies their Veins.)
With tender Shrieks the Goddess fill’d the Place,
And dropt her Offspring from her weak Embrace.
Him Phaebus took: He casts a Cloud around
The fainting Chief, and wards the mortal Wound.
Then with a Voice that shook the vaulted Skies,
The King insults the Goddess as she flies.
Ill with Jove’s Daughter bloody Fights agree,
The Field of Combate is no Scene for thee:
Go, let thy own soft Sex employ thy Care,
Go lull the Coward, or delude the Fair.
Taught by this Stroke, renounce the War’s Alarms,
And learn to tremble at the Name of Arms.
Tydides thus. The Goddess, seiz’d with Dread,
Confus’d, distracted, from the Conflict fled.
To aid her, swift the winged Iris flew,
Wrapt in a Mist above the warring Crew.
The Queen of Love with faded Charms she found,
Pale was her Cheek, and livid look’d the Wound.
To Mars, who sate remote, they bent their way;
Far on the left, with Clouds involv’d, he lay;
Beside him stood his Lance, distain’d with Gore,
And, rein’d with Gold, his foaming Steeds before.
Low at his Knee, she begg’d, with streaming Eyes,
Her Brother’s Car, to mount the distant Skies,
450And shew’d the Wound by fierce Tydides giv’n,
A mortal Man, who dares encounter Heav’n.
Stern Mars attentive hears the Queen complain,
And to her Hand commits the golden Rein:
She mounts the Seat oppress’d with silent Woe,
Driv’n by the Goddess of the painted Bow.
The Lash resounds, the rapid Chariot flies,
And in a Moment scales the lofty Skies.
There stopp’d the Car, and there the Coursers stood,
Fed by fair Iris with Ambrosial Food.
Before her Mother Love’s bright Queen appears,
O’erwhelm’d with Anguish and dissolv’d in Tears;
She rais’d her in her Arms, beheld her bleed,
And ask’d, what God had wrought this guilty Deed?
Then she: This Insult from no God I found,
An impious Mortal gave the daring Wound!
Behold the Deed of haughty Diomed!
’Twas in the Son’s Defence the Mother bled.
The War with Troy no more the Grecians wage;
But with the Gods (th’ immortal Gods) engage.
Dione then. Thy Wrongs with Patience bear,
And share those Griefs inferior Pow’rs must share;
Unnumber’d Woes Mankind from us sustain,
And Men with Woes afflict the Gods again.
The mighty Mars in mortal Fetters bound,
And lodg’d in Brazen Dungeons under Ground,
Full thirteen Moons imprison’d roar’d in vain;
Otus and Ephialtes held the Chain:
Perhaps had perish’d; had not Hermes’ Care
Restor’d the groaning God to upper Air.
Great Juno’s self has born her Weight of Pain,
Th’ imperial Partner of the heav’nly Reign;
Amphitryon’s Son infix’d the deadly Dart,
And fill’d with Anguish her immortal Heart.
Ev’n Hell’s grim King Alcides’ Pow’r confest,
The Shaft found Entrance in his Iron Breast,
To Jove’s high Palace for a Cure he fled,
Pierc’d in his own Dominions of the Dead;
Where Paeon sprinkling heav’nly Balm around,
Asswag’d the glowing Pangs, and clos’d the Wound.
Rash, impious Man! to stain the blest Abodes,
And drench his Arrows in the Blood of Gods!
But thou (tho’ Pallas urg’d thy frantic Deed)
Whose Spear ill-fated makes a Goddess bleed,
Know thou, whoe’er with heav’nly Pow’r contends,
Short is his Date, and soon his Glory ends;
From Fields of Death when late he shall retire,
No Infant on his Knees shall call him Sire.
Strong as thou art, some God may yet be found,
To stretch thee pale and gasping on the Ground;
500Thy distant Wife, Aegiale the Fair,
Starting from Sleep with a distracted Air,
Shall rowze thy Slaves, and her lost Lord deplore,
The brave, the great, the glorious, now no more!
This said, she wip’d from Venus’ wounded Palm
The sacred Ichor, and infus’d the Balm.
Juno and Pallas with a Smile survey’d,
And thus to Jove began the blue-ey’d Maid.
Permit thy Daughter, gracious Jove! to tell
How this Mischance the Cyprian Queen befell.
As late she try’d with Passion to inflame
The tender Bosome of a Grecian Dame,
Allur’d the Fair with moving Thoughts of Joy,
To quit her Country for some Youth of Troy;
The clasping Zone, with golden Buckles bound,
Raz’d her soft Hand with this lamented Wound.
The Sire of Gods and Men superior smil’d,
And, calling Venus, thus addrest his Child.
Not these, O Daughter, are thy proper Cares,
Thee milder Arts befit, and softer Wars;
Sweet Smiles are thine and kind endearing Charms,
To Mars and Pallas leave the Deeds of Arms.
Thus they in Heav’n: While on the Plain below
The fierce Tydides charg’d his Dardan Foe:
Flush’d with Celestial Blood pursu’d his way,
And fearless dar’d the threatning God of Day;
Already in his Hopes he saw him kill’d,
Tho’ screen’d behind Apollo’s mighty Shield.
Thrice rushing furious, at the Chief he strook;
His blazing Buckler thrice Apollo shook:
He try’d the fourth: When breaking from the Cloud,
A more than mortal Voice was heard aloud.
O Son of Tydeus, cease! be wise and see
How vast the Diff’rence of the Gods and Thee;
Distance immense! between the Pow’rs that shine
Above, Eternal, Deathless, and Divine,
And mortal Man! a Wretch of humble Birth,
A short-liv’d Reptile in the Dust of Earth.
So spoke the God who darts Celestial Fires;
He dreads his Fury, and some Steps retires.
Then Phoebus bore the Chief of Venus’ Race
To Troy’s high Fane, and to his Holy Place;
Latona there and Phoebe heal’d the Wound,
With Vigor arm’d him, and with Glory crown’d.
This done, the Patron of the Silver Bow
A Phantom rais’d, the same in Shape and Show
With great Aeneas; such the Form he bore,
And such in Fight the radiant Arms he wore.
Around the Spectre bloody Wars are wag’d,
And Greece and Troy with clashing Shields engag’d.
550Meantime on Ilion’s Tow’r Apollo stood,
And calling Mars, thus urg’d the raging God.
Stern Pow’r of Arms! by whom the Mighty fall,
Who bathe in Blood, and shake th’ embattel’d Wall!
Rise in thy Wrath! To Hell’s abhorr’d Abodes
Dispatch yon’ Greek, and vindicate the Gods.
First rosie Venus felt his brutal Rage;
Me next he charg’d, and dares all Heav’n engage:
The Wretch would brave high Heav’ns immortal Sire,
His triple Thunder, and his Bolts of Fire.
The God of Battel issues on the Plain,
Stirs all the Ranks, and fires the Trojan Train;
In Form like Acamas, the Thracian Guide,
Enrag’d, to Troy’s retiring Chiefs he cry’d.
How long, ye Sons of Priam! will ye fly,
And unreveng’d see Priam’s People die?
Still unresisted shall the Foe destroy,
And stretch the Slaughter to the Gates of Troy?
Lo brave Aeneas sinks beneath his Wound,
Not Godlike Hector more in Arms renown’d:
Haste all, and take the gen’rous Warrior’s Part.
He said; new Courage swell’d each Hero’s Heart.
Sarpedon first his ardent Soul express’d,
And, turn’d to Hector, these bold Words address’d.
Say, Chief, is all thy ancient Valor lost,
Where are thy Threats, and where thy glorious Boast,
That propt alone by Priam’s Race should stand
Troy’s sacred Walls, nor need a foreign Hand?
Now, now thy Country calls her wanted Friends,
And the proud Vaunt in just Derision ends.
Remote they stand, while Alien Troops engage,
Like trembling Hounds before the Lion’s Rage.
Far distant hence I held my wide Command,
Where foaming Xanthus laves the Lycian Land,
With ample Wealth (the Wish of Mortals) blest,
A beauteous Wife, and Infant at her Breast;
With those I left whatever dear could be;
Greece, if she conquers, nothing wins from me.
Yet first in Fight my Lycian Bands I chear,
And long to meet this mighty Man ye fear.
While Hector idle stands, nor bids the Brave
Their Wives, their Infants, and their Altars save.
Haste, Warrior, haste! preserve thy threaten’d State;
Or one vast Burst of all-involving Fate
Full o’er your Tow’rs shall fall, and sweep away
Sons, Sires, and Wives, an undistinguish’d Prey.
Rowze all thy Trojans, urge thy Aids to fight;
These claim thy Thoughts by Day, thy Watch by Night:
With Force incessant the brave Greeks oppose;
Such Cares thy Friends deserve, and such thy Foes.
600Stung to the Heart the gen’rous Hector hears,
But just Reproof with decent Silence bears.
From his proud Car the Prince impetuous springs;
On Earth he leaps; his Brazen Armor rings.
Two shining Spears are brandish’d in his Hands;
Thus arm’d, he animates his drooping Bands,
Revives their Ardor, turns their Steps from Flight,
And wakes anew the dying Flames of Fight.
They turn, they stand: The Greeks their Fury dare,
Condense their Pow’rs, and wait the growing War.
As when on Ceres’ sacred Floor the Swain
Spreads the wide Fan to clear the golden Grain,
And the light Chaff, before the Breezes born,
Ascends in Clouds from off the heapy Corn;
The grey Dust, rising with collected Winds,
Drives o’er the Barn, and whitens all the Hinds.
So white with Dust the Grecian Host appears,
From trampling Steeds, and thundring Charioteers,
The dusky Clouds from labour’d Earth arise,
And roll in smoaking Volumes to the Skies.
Mars hovers o’er them with his sable Shield,
And adds new Horrors to the darken’d Field;
Pleas’d with his Charge, and ardent to fulfill
In Troy’s Defence Apollo’s heav’nly Will:
Soon as from Fight the blue-ey’d Maid retires,
Each Trojan Bosom with new Warmth he fires.
And now the God, from forth his sacred Fane,
Produc’d Aeneas to the shouting Train;
Alive, unharm’d, with all his Peers around,
Erect he stood, and vig’rous from his Wound:
Enquiries none they made; the dreadful Day
No Pause of Words admits, no dull Delay;
Fierce Discord storms, Apollo loud exclaims,
Fame calls, Mars thunders, and the Field’s in Flames.
Stern Diomed with either Ajax stood,
And great Ulysses, bath’d in hostile Blood.
Embodied close, the lab’ring Grecian Train
The fiercest Shock of charging Hosts sustain;
Unmov’d and silent, the whole War they wait,
Serenely dreadful, and as fix’d as Fate.
So when th’ embattel’d Clouds in dark Array
Along the Skies their gloomy Lines display,
When now the North his boist’rous Rage has spent,
And peaceful sleeps the liquid Element,
The low-hung Vapors, motionless and still,
Rest on the Summits of the shaded Hill;
’Till the Mass scatters as the Winds arise,
Dispers’d and kroken thro’ the ruffled Skies.
Nor was the Gen’ral wanting to his Train,
From Troop to Troop he toils thro’ all the Plain.
650Ye Greeks be Men! the Charge of Battel bear;
Your brave Associates, and Your-selves revere!
Let glorious Acts more glorious Acts inspire,
And catch from Breast to Breast the noble Fire!
On Valor’s side the Odds of Combate lie,
The Brave live glorious, or lamented die;
The Wretch who trembles in the Field of Fame,
Meets Death, and worse than Death, Eternal Shame.
These Words he seconds with his flying Lance,
To meet whose Point was strong Deicoon’s Chance;
Aeneas’ Friend, and in his native Place
Honour’d and lov’d like Priam’s Royal Race:
Long had he fought the foremost in the Field;
But now the Monarch’s Lance transpierc’d his Shield,
His Shield too weak the furious Dart to stay,
Thro’ his broad Belt the Weapon forc’d its way;
The grizly Wound dismiss’d his Soul to Hell,
His Arms around him rattled as he fell.
Then fierce Aeneas brandishing his Blade,
In Dust Orsilochus and Crethon laid,
Whose Sire Diöcleus, wealthy, brave and great,
In well-built Pherae held his lofty Seat:
Sprung from Alpheus, plenteous Stream! that yields
Encrease of Harvests to the Pylian Fields:
He got Orsilochus, Diöcleus He,
And these descended in the third Degree.
Too early expert in the martial Toil,
In sable Ships they left their native Soil,
T’avenge Atrides: Now, untimely slain,
They fell with Glory on the Phrygian Plain.
So two young Mountain Lions, nurs’d with Blood
In deep Recesses of the gloomy Wood,
Rush fearless to the Plains, and uncontroul’d
Depopulate the Stalls and waste the Fold;
’Till pierc’d at distance from their native Den,
O’erpow’r’d they fall beneath the Force of Men.
Prostrate on Earth their beauteous Bodies lay,
Like Mountain Firs, as tall and strait as they.
Great Menelaus views with pitying Eyes,
Lifts his bright Lance, and at the Victor flies;
Mars urg’d him on; yet, ruthless in his Hate,
The God but urg’d him to provoke his Fate.
He thus advancing, Nestor’s valiant Son
Shakes for his Danger, and neglects his own;
Struck with the Thought, should Helen’s Lord be slain,
And all his Country’s glorious Labours vain.
Already met the threat’ning Heroes stand;
The Spears already tremble in their Hand;
In rush’d Antilochus, his Aid to bring,
And fall or conquer by the Spartan King.
700These seen, the Dardan backward turn’d his Course,
Brave as he was, and shunn’d unequal Force.
The breathless Bodies to the Greeks they drew;
Then mix in Combate and their Toils renew.
First Pylaemenes, great in Battel, bled,
Who sheath’d in Brass the Paphlagonians led.
Atrides mark’d him where sublime he stood;
Fix’d in his Throat, the Javelin drank his Blood.
The faithful Mydon as he turn’d from Fight
His flying Coursers, sunk to endless Night:
A broken Rock by Nestor’s Son was thrown,
His bended Arm receiv’d the falling Stone,
From his numb’d Hand the Iv’ry-studded Reins
Dropt in the Dust are trail’d along the Plains.
Meanwhile his Temples feel a deadly Wound;
He groans in Death, and pondrous sinks to Ground:
Deep drove his Helmet in the Sands, and there
The Head stood fix’d, the quiv’ring Legs in Air:
’Till trampled flat beneath the Courser’s Feet,
The youthful Victor mounts his empty Seat,
And bears the Prize in Triumph to the Fleet.
Great Hector saw, and raging at the View
Pours on the Greeks: The Trojan Troops pursue:
He fires his Host with animating Cries,
And brings along the Furies of the Skies.
Mars, stern Destroyer! and Bellona dread,
Flame in the Front, and thunder at their Head:
This swells the Tumult and the Rage of Fight;
That shakes a Spear that casts a dreadful Light;
Where Hector march’d, the God of Battels shin’d,
Now storm’d before him, and now rag’d behind.
Tydides paus’d amidst his full Carrier;
Then first the Hero’s manly Breast knew Fear.
As when some simple Swain his Cot forsakes,
And wide thro’ Fens an unknown Journey takes;
If chance a swelling Brook his Passage stay,
And foam impervious cross the Wand’rer’s way,
Confus’d he stops, a Length of Country past,
Eyes the rough Waves, and tir’d returns at last.
Amaz’d no less the great Tydides stands;
He stay’d, and turning, thus address’d his Bands.
No wonder, Greeks! that all to Hector yield,
Secure of fav’ring Gods, he takes the Field;
His Strokes they second, and avert our Spears:
Behold where Mars in mortal Arms appears!
Retire then Warriors, but sedate and slow;
Retire, but with your Faces to the Foe.
Trust not too much your unavailing Might;
’Tis not with Troy, but with the Gods ye fight.
Now near the Greeks the black Battalions drew,
750And first two Leaders valiant Hector slew,
His Force Anchialus and Mnesthes found,
In ev’ry Art of glorious War renown’d;
In the same Car the Chiefs to Combate ride,
And fought united, and united dy’d.
Struck at the Sight, the mighty Ajax glows
With Thirst of Vengeance, and assaults the Foes.
His massy Spear with matchless Fury sent
Thro’ Amphius’ Belt and heaving Belly went:
Amphius Apaesus’ happy Soil possess’d,
With Herds abounding, and with Treasure bless’d;
But Fate resistless from his Country led
The Chief, to perish at his People’s Head.
Shook with his Fall his Brazen Armor rung,
And fierce, to seize it, conqu’ring Ajax sprung:
Around his Head an Iron Tempest rain’d;
A Wood of Spears his ample Shield sustain’d;
Beneath one Foot the yet-warm Corps he prest,
And drew his Javelin from the bleeding Breast:
He could no more; The show’ring Darts deny’d
To spoil his glitt’ring Arms, and Plumy Pride.
Now Foes on Foes came pouring on the Fields,
With bristling Lances, and compacted Shields;
’Till in the Steely Circle straiten’d round,
Forc’d he gives way, and sternly quits the Ground.
While thus they strive, Tlepolemus the great,
Urg’d by the Force of unresisted Fate,
Burns with Desire Sarpedon’s Strength to prove;
Alcides’ Offspring meets the Son of Jove.
Sheath’d in bright Arms each adverse Chief came on,
Jove’s great Descendent, and his greater Son.
Prepar’d for Combate, e’re the Lance he tost,
The daring Rhodian vents his haughty Boast.
What brings this Lycian Counsellor so far,
To tremble at our Arms, not mix in War?
Know thy vain self, nor let their Flatt’ry move
Who style thee Son of Cloud-compelling Jove.
How far unlike those Chiefs of Race divine,
How vast the Diff’rence of their Deeds and thine?
Jove got such Heroes as my Sire, whose Soul
No Fear could daunt, nor Earth, nor Hell controul.
Troy felt his Arm, and yon’ proud Ramparts stand
Rais’d on the Ruins of his vengeful Hand:
With six small Ships, and but a slender Train,
He left the Town a wide, deserted Plain.
But what art thou? who deedless look’st around,
While unreveng’d thy Lycians bite the Ground:
Small Aid to Troy thy feeble Force can be,
But wert thou greater, thou must yield to me.
Pierc’d by my Spear to endless Darkness go!
800I make this Present to the Shades below.
The Son of Hercules, the Rhodian Guide,
Thus haughty spoke. The Lycian King reply’d.
Thy Sire, O Prince! o’erturn’d the Trojan State,
Whose perjur’d Monarch well deserv’d his Fate;
Those heav’nly Steeds the Hero sought so far,
False he detain’d, the just Reward of War:
Nor so content, the gen’rous Chief defy’d,
With base Reproaches and unmanly Pride.
But you, unworthy the high Race you boast,
Shall raise my Glory when thy own is lost:
Now meet thy Fate, and by Sarpedon slain
Add one more Ghost to Pluto’s gloomy Reign.
He said: Both Javelins at an Instant flew:
Both strook, both wounded, but Sarpedon’s slew:
Full in the Boaster’s Neck the Weapon stood,
Transfix’d his Throat, and drank the vital Blood;
The Soul disdainful seeks the Caves of Night,
And his seal’d Eyes for ever lose the Light.
Yet not in vain, Tlepolemus, was thrown
Thy angry Lance; which piercing to the Bone
Sarpedon’s Thigh, had robb’d the Chief of Breath;
But Jove was present, and forbad the Death.
Born from the Conflict by his Lycian Throng,
The wounded Hero dragg’d the Lance along.
(His Friends, each busy’d in his sev’ral Part,
Thro’ Haste, or Danger, had not drawn the Dart)
The Greeks with slain Tlepolemus retir’d;
Whose Fall Ulysses view’d, with Fury fir’d;
Doubtful if Jove’s great Son he should pursue,
Or pour his Vengeance on the Lycian Crew.
But Heav’n and Fate the first Design withstand,
Nor this great Death must grace Ulysses’ Hand.
Minerva drives him on the Lycian Train;
Alastor, Chromius, Halius strow’d the Plain,
Alcander, Prytanis, Noëmon fell,
And Numbers more his Sword had sent to Hell:
But Hector saw; and furious at the Sight,
Rush’d terrible amidst the Ranks of Fight.
With Joy Sarpedon view’d the wish’d Relief,
And faint, lamenting, thus implor’d the Chief.
Oh suffer not the Foe to bear away
My helpless Corps, an unassisted Prey.
If I, unblest, must see my Son no more,
My much-lov’d Consort, and my native Shore,
Yet let me die in Ilion’s sacred Wall;
Troy, in whose Cause I fell, shall mourn my Fall.
He said, nor Hector to the Chief replies,
But shakes his Plume, and fierce to Combate flies,
Swift as a Whirlwind drives the scatt’ring Foes,
850And dyes the Ground in Purple as he goes.
Beneath a Beech, Jove’s consecrated Shade,
His mournful Friends divine Sarpedon laid:
Brave Pelagon, his fav’rite Chief, was nigh,
Who wrench’d the Javelin from his sinewy Thigh.
The fainting Soul stood ready wing’d for Flight,
And o’er his Eye-balls swum the Shades of Night.
But Boreas rising fresh, with gentle Breath,
Recall’d his Spirit from the Gates of Death.
The gen’rous Greeks recede with tardy Pace,
Tho Mars and Hector thunder in their Face;
None turn their Backs to mean ignoble Flight,
Slow they retreat, and ev’n retreating fight.
Who first, who last, by Mars and Hector’s Hand
Stretch’d in their Blood lay gasping on the Sand?
Teuthras the great, Orestes the renown’d
For manag’d Steeds, and Trechus press’d the Ground;
Next Oenomaus, and Oenops’ Offspring dy’d;
Oresbius last fell groaning at their side:
Oresbius, in his painted Mitre gay,
In fat Boeotia held his wealthy Sway,
Where Lakes surround low Hylè’s watry Plain;
A Prince and People studious of their Gain.
The Carnage Juno from the Skies survey’d,
And touch’d with Grief bespoke the blue-ey’d Maid.
Oh Sight accurst! Shall faithless Troy prevail,
And shall our Promise to our People fail?
How vain the Word to Menelaus giv’n
By Jove’s great Daughter and the Queen of Heav’n,
Beneath his Arms that Priam’s Tow’rs should fall;
If warring Gods for ever guard the Wall?
Mars, red with Slaughter, aids our hated Foes:
Haste, let us arm, and Force with Force oppose!
She spoke; Minerva burns to meet the War:
And now Heav’ns Empress calls her blazing Car.
At her Command rush forth the Steeds Divine;
Rich with immortal Gold their Trappings shine.
Bright Hebè waits; by Hebè, ever young,
The whirling Wheels are to the Chariot hung.
On the bright Axle turns the bidden Wheel,
Of sounding Brass; the polish’d Axle Steel.
Eight brazen Spokes in radiant Order flame;
The Circles Gold, of uncorrupted Frame,
Such as the Heav’ns produce: and round the Gold
Two brazen Rings of Work divine were roll’d.
The bossie Naves of solid Silver shone;
Braces of Gold suspend the moving Throne:
The Car behind an arching Figure bore;
The bending Concave form’d an Arch before.
Silver the Beam, th’ extended Yoke was Gold,
900And golden Reins th’ immortal Coursers hold.
Herself, impatient, to the ready Car
The Coursers joins, and breathes Revenge and War.
Pallas disrobes; Her radiant Veil unty’d,
With Flow’rs adorn’d, with Art diversify’d,
(The labour’d Veil her heav’nly Fingers wove)
Flows on the Pavement of the Court of Jove.
Now Heav’ns dread Arms her mighty Limbs invest,
Jove’s Cuirass blazes on her ample Breast;
Deck’d in sad Triumph for the mournful Field,
O’er her broad Shoulders hangs his horrid Shield,
Dire, black, tremendous! Round the Margin roll’d,
A Fringe of Serpents hissing guards the Gold:
Here all the Terrors of grim War appear,
Here rages Force, here tremble Flight and Fear,
Here storm’d Contention, and here Fury frown’d;
And the dire Orb Portentous Gorgon crown’d.
The massy golden Helm she next assumes,
That dreadful nods with four o’ershading Plumes;
So vast, the broad Circumference contains
A hundred Armies on a hundred Plains.
The Goddess thus th’ imperial Car ascends;
Shook by her Arm the mighty Javelin bends,
Pond’rous and huge; that when her Fury burns,
Proud Tyrants humbles, and whole Hosts o’erturns.
Swift at the Scourge th’ Ethereal Coursers fly,
While the smooth Chariot cuts the liquid Sky.
Heav’n Gates spontaneous open to the Pow’rs,
Heav’ns golden Gates, kept by the winged Hours;
Commission’d in alternate Watch to stand,
The Sun’s bright Portals and the Skies command,
Involve in Clouds th’ Eternal Gates of Day,
Or the dark Barrier roll with Ease away.
The sounding Hinges ring: On either side
The gloomy Volumes, pierc’d with Light, divide.
The Chariot mounts, where deep in ambient Skies,
Confus’d, Olympus’ hundred Heads arise;
Where far apart the Thund’rer fills his Throne,
O’er all the Gods, superior and alone.
There with her snowy Hand the Queen restrains
The fiery Steeds, and thus to Jove complains.
O Sire! can no Resentment touch thy Soul?
Can Mars rebel, and does no Thunder roll?
What lawless Rage on yon’ forbidden Plain,
What rash Destruction! and what Heroes slain?
Venus, and Phoebus with the dreadful Bow,
Smile on the Slaughter, and enjoy my Woe.
Mad, furious Pow’r! whose unrelenting Mind
No God can govern, and no Justice bind.
Say, mighty Father! Shall we scourge his Pride,
950And drive from Fight th’ impetuous Homicide?
To whom assenting, thus the Thund’rer said:
Go! and the great Minerva be thy Aid.
To tame the Monster-God Minerva knows,
And oft’ afflicts his Brutal Breast with Woes.
He said; Saturnia, ardent to obey,
Lash’d her white Steeds along th’ Aerial Way.
Swift down the Steep of Heav’n the Chariot rolls,
Between th’ expanded Earth and starry Poles.
Far as a Shepherd, from some Point on high,
O’er the wide Main extends his boundless Eye,
Thro’ such a Space of Air, with thund’ring Sound,
At ev’ry Leap th’ Immortal Coursers bound.
Troy now they reach’d, and touch’d those Banks Divine
Where Silver Simois and Scamander join.
There Juno stop’d, and (her fair Steeds unloos’d)
Of Air condens’d a Vapor circumfus’d:
For these, impregnate with Celestial Dew
On Simois’ Brink Ambrosial Herbage grew.
Thence, to relieve the fainting Argive Throng,
Smooth as the sailing Doves they glide along.
The best and bravest of the Grecian Band
(A warlike Circle) round Tydides stand:
Such was their Look as Lions bath’d in Blood,
Or foaming Boars, the Terror of the Wood.
Heav’ns Empress mingles with the mortal Crowd,
And shouts, in Stentor’s sounding Voice, aloud:
Stentor the strong, endu’d with Brazen Lungs,
Whose Throat surpass’d the Force of fifty Tongues.
Inglorious Argives! to your Race a Shame,
And only Men in Figure and in Name!
Once from their Walls your tim’rous Foes engag’d,
While fierce in War divine Achilles rag’d;
Now issuing fearless they possess the Plain,
Now win the Shores, and scarce the Seas remain.
Her Speech new Fury to their Hearts convey’d;
While near Tydides stood th’ Athenian Maid:
The King beside his panting Steeds she found,
O’erspent with Toil, reposing on the Ground;
To cool his glowing Wound he sate apart,
(The Wound inflicted by the Lycian Dart)
Large Drops of Sweat from all his Limbs descend,
Beneath his pond’rous Shield his Sinews bend,
Whose ample Belt that o’er his Shoulder lay,
He eas’d; and wash’d the clotted Gore away.
The Goddess leaning o’er the bending Yoke,
Beside his Coursers, thus her Silence broke.
Degen’rate Prince! and not of Tydeus’ Kind,
Whose little Body lodg’d a mighty Mind.
Foremost he press’d, in glorious Toils to share,
1000And scarce refrain’d when I forbad the War.
Alone, unguarded, once he dar’d to go,
And feast encircled by the Theban Foe;
There brav’d, and vanquish’d, many a hardy Knight;
Such Nerves I gave him, and such Force in Fight.
Thou too no less hast been my constant Care;
Thy Hands I arm’d, and sent thee forth to War:
But Thee or Fear deterrs, or Sloth detains;
No Drop of all thy Father warms thy Veins.
The Chief thus answer’d mild. Immortal Maid!
I own thy Presence, and confess thy Aid.
Not Fear, thou know’st, withholds me from the Plains,
Nor Sloth hath seiz’d me, but thy Word restrains:
From warring Gods thou bad’st me turn my Spear,
And Venus only found Resistance here.
Hence, Goddess! heedful of thy high Commands,
Loth I gave way, and warn’d our Argive Bands:
For Mars, the Homicide, these Eyes beheld,
With Slaughter red, and raging round the Field.
Then thus Minerva. Brave Tydides hear!
Not Mars himself, nor ought Immortal fear.
Full on the God impell thy foaming Horse:
Pallas commands, and Pallas lends thee Force.
Rash, furious, blind, from these to those he flies,
And ev’ry side of wav’ring Combate tries;
Large Promise makes, and breaks the Promise made;
Now gives the Grecians, now the Trojans Aid.
She said, and to the Steeds approaching near,
Drew from his Seat the martial Charioteer.
The vig’rous Pow’r the trembling Car ascends,
Fierce for Revenge; and Diomed attends.
The groaning Axle bent beneath the Load;
So great a Hero, and so great a God.
She snatch’d the Reins, she lash’d with all her Force,
And full on Mars impell’d the foaming Horse:
But first, to hide her Heav’nly Visage, spread
Black Orcus’ Helmet o’er her radiant Head.
Just then Gigantic Periphas lay slain,
The strongest Warrior of th’ Aetolian Train;
The God who slew him, leaves his prostrate Prize
Stretch’d where he fell, and at Tydides flies.
Now rushing fierce, in equal Arms appear,
The daring Greek; the dreadful God of War!
Full at the Chief, above his Courser’s Head,
From Mars his Arm th’ enormous Weapon fled:
Pallas oppos’d her Hand, and caus’d to glance
Far from the Car, the strong immortal Lance.
Then threw the Force of Tydeus’ warlike Son;
The Javelin hiss’d; the Goddess urg’d it on:
Where the broad Cincture girt his Armor round,
1050It pierc’d the God: His Groin receiv’d the Wound.
From the rent Skin the Warrior tuggs again
The smoaking Steel. Mars bellows with the Pain:
Loud, as the Roar encountring Armies yield,
When shouting Millions shake the thund’ring Field.
Both Armies start, and trembling gaze around;
And Earth and Heav’n rebellow to the Sound.
As Vapors blown by Auster’s sultry Breath,
Pregnant with Plagues, and shedding Seeds of Death,
Beneath the Rage of burning Sirius rise,
Choak the parch’d Earth, and blacken all the Skies;
In such a Cloud the God from Combate driv’n,
High o’er the dusty Whirlwind scales the Heav’n.
Wild with his Pain, he sought the bright Abodes,
There sullen sate beneath the Sire of Gods,
Show’d the Celestial Blood, and with a Groan
Thus pour’d his Plaints before th’ immortal Throne.
Can Jove, supine, flagitious Facts survey,
And brook the Furies of this daring Day?
For mortal Men Celestial Pow’rs engage,
And Gods on Gods exert Eternal Rage.
From thee, O Father! all these Ills we bear,
And thy fell Daughter with the Shield and Spear:
Thou gav’st that Fury to the Realms of Light,
Pernicious, wild, regardless of the Right.
All Heav’n beside revere thy Sov’reign Sway,
Thy Voice we hear, and thy Behests obey:
’Tis hers t’offend; and ev’n offending share
Thy Breast, thy Counsels, thy distinguish’d Care:
So boundless she, and thou so partial grown,
Well may we deem the wond’rous Birth thy own.
Now frantic Diomed, at her Command,
Against th’ Immortals lifts his raging Hand:
The heav’nly Venus first his Fury found,
Me next encount’ring, me he dar’d to wound;
Vanquish’d I fled: Ev’n I, the God of Fight,
From mortal Madness scarce was sav’d by Flight.
Else had’st thou seen me sink on yonder Plain,
Heap’d round, and heaving under Loads of slain;
Or pierc’d with Grecian Darts, for Ages lie,
Condemn’d to Pain, tho’ fated not to die.
Him thus upbraiding, with a wrathful Look
The Lord of Thunders view’d, and stern bespoke.
To me, Perfidious! this lamenting Strain?
Of lawless Force shall lawless Mars complain?
Of all the Gods who tread the spangled Skies,
Thou most unjust, most odious in our Eyes!
Inhuman Discord is thy dire Delight,
The Waste of Slaughter, and the Rage of Fight.
No Bound, no Law thy fiery Temper quells,
1100And all thy Mother in thy Soul rebells.
In vain our Threats, in vain our Pow’r we use;
She gives th’ Example, and her Son pursues.
Yet long th’ inflicted Pangs thou shalt not mourn,
Sprung since thou art from Jove, and Heav’nly born.
Else, sing’d with Light’ning, had’st thou hence been thrown,
Where chain’d on burning Rocks the Titans groan.
Thus He who shakes Olympus with his Nod;
Then gave to Poeon’s Care the bleeding God.
With gentle Hand the Balm he pour’d around,
And heal’d th’ immortal Flesh, and clos’d the Wound
As when the Fig’s prest Juice, infus’d in Cream,
To Curds coagulates the liquid Stream,
Sudden the Fluids fix, the Parts combin’d;
Such, and so soon, th’ Aetherial Texture join’d.
Cleans’d from the Dust and Gore, fair Hebè drest
His mighty Limbs in an immortal Vest.
Glorious he sate, in Majesty restor’d,
Fast by the Throne of Heav’ns superior Lord.
Juno and Pallas mount the blest Abodes,
Their Task perform’d, and mix among the Gods.
Observations on the 5th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
- Note LVIII.
- Note LIX.
- Note LX.
Note I.
VERSE 1. BUT Pallas now, &c.]
As in every just History Picture there is one principal Figure, to which all the rest refer and are subservient; so in each Battel of the Iliad there is one principal Person, that may properly be call’d the Hero of that Day or Action. This Conduct preserves the Unity of the Piece, and keeps the Imagination from being distracted and confused with a wild Number of independent Figures, which have no Subordination to each other. To make this probable, Homer supposes these extraordinary Measures of Courage to be the immediate Gift of the Gods; who bestow them sometimes upon one, and sometimes upon another, as they think fit to make them the Instruments of their Designs; an Opinion conformable to true Theology. Whoever reflects upon this, will not blame our Author for representing the same Heroes brave at one time, and dispirited at another; just as the Gods assist, or abandon them on different Occasions.
Note II.
VERSE 1. Tydides.]
That we may enter into the Spirit and Beauty of this Book, it will be proper to settle the true Character of Diomed who is the Hero of it. Achilles is no sooner retired, but Homer raises his other Greeks to supply his Absence; like Stars that shine each in his due Revolution, till the principal Hero rises again, and eclipses all others. As Diomed is the first in this Office, he seems to have more of the Character of Achilles than any besides. He has naturally an Excess of Boldness and too much Fury in his Temper, forward and intrepid like the other, and running after Gods or Men promiscuously as they offer themselves. But what differences his Character is, that he is soon reclaim’d by Advice, hears those that are more experienced, and in a word, obeys Minerva in all things. He is assisted by the Patroness of Wisdom and Arms, as he is eminent both for Prudence and Valor. That which characterizes his Prudence is a quick Sagacity and Presence of Mind in all Emergencies, and an undisturb’d Readiness in the very Article of Danger. And what is particular in his Valor is agreeable to these Qualities; his Actions being always performed with remarkable Dexterity, Activity, and Dispatch. As the gentle and manageable Turn of his Mind seems drawn with an Opposition to the boisterous Temper of Achilles, so his bodily Excellencies seem design’d as in Contraste to those of Ajax, who appears with great Strength, but heavy and unwieldy. As he is forward to act in the Field, so is he ready to speak in the Council: But ’tis observable that his Counsels still incline to War, and are byass’d rather on the side of Bravery than Caution. Thus he advises to reject the Proposals of the Trojans in the seventh Book, and not to accept of Helen her self, tho’ Paris should offer her. In the ninth, he opposes Agamemnon’s Proposition to return to Greece, in so strong a manner, as to declare he will stay and continue the Siege himself, if the General should depart. And thus he hears without Concern Achilles’s Refusal of a Reconciliation, and doubts not to be able to carry on the War without him. As for his private Character, he appears a gallant Lover of Hospitality in his Behaviour to Glaucus in the sixth Book; a Lover of Wisdom in his Assistance of Nestor in the eighth, and his Choice of Ulysses to accompany him in the tenth; upon the whole, an open sincere Friend, and a generous Enemy.
The wonderful Actions he performs in this Battel, seem to be the Effect of a noble Resentment at the Reproach he had receiv’d from Agamemnon in the foregoing Book, to which these Deeds are the Answer. He becomes immediately the second Hero of Greece, and dreaded equally with Achilles by the Trojans. At the first Sight of him his Enemies make a Question, Whether he is a Man or a God? Aeneas and Pandarus go against him, whose Approach terrifies Sthenelus, and the Apprehension of so great a Warrior marvellously exalts the Intrepidity of Diomed. Aeneas himself is not sav’d but by the interposing of a Deity: He pursues and wounds that Deity, and Aeneas again escapes only by the Help of a stronger Power, Apollo. He attempts Apollo too, retreats not till the God threatens him in his own Voice, and even then retreats but a few Steps. When he sees Hector and Mars himself in open Arms against him, he had not retir’d tho’ he was wounded, but in Obedience to Minerva, and then retires with his Face toward them. But as soon as she permits him to engage with that God, he conquers, and sends him groaning to Heaven. What Invention and what Conduct appears in this whole Episode? What Boldness in raising a Character to such a Pitch, and what Judgment in raising it by such Degrees? While the most daring Flights of Poetry are employ’d to move our Admiration, and at the same time the justest and closest Allegory, to reconcile those Flights to moral Truth and Probability? It may be farther remark’d, that the high Degree to which Homer elevates this Character, enters into the principal Design of his whole Poem; which is to shew, that the greatest Personal Qualities and Forces are of no Effect when Union is wanting among the chief Rulers, and that nothing can avail till they are reconciled so as to act in Concert.
Note III.
VERSE 5. High on his Helm Celestial Light’nings play. ]
This beautiful Passage gave occasion to Zoilus for an insipid Piece of Raillery, who ask’d how it happen’d that the Hero escap’d burning by these Fires that continually broke from his Armor? Eustathius answers, that there are several Examples in History, of Fires being seen to break forth from human Bodies as Presages of Greatness and Glory. Among the rest, Plutarch in the Life of Alexander describes his Helmet much in this manner. This is enough to warrant the Fiction, and were there no such Example, the same Author says very well that the Imagination of a Poet is not to be confined to strict Physical Truths. But all Objections may easily be removed, if we consider it as done by Minerva, who had determined this Day to raise Diomed above all the Heroes, and caused this Apparition to render him formidable. The Power of a God makes it not only allowable but highly noble, and greatly imagined by Homer; as well as correspondent to a Miracle in holy Scripture, where Moses is described with a Glory shining on his Face at his Descent from Mount Sinai, a Parallel which Spondanus has taken notice of.
Virgil was too sensible of the Beauty of this Passage not to imitate it, and it must be owned he has surpassed his Original.
Ardet apex capiti, cristisque ac vertice flamma Funditur, & vastos umbo vomit aureus ignes. Non secus ac liquida si quando nocte Cometae Sanguinei lugubre rubent: aut Sirius ardor, Ille sitim morbosque ferens mortalibus aegris, Nascitur, & laevo contristat lumine caelum.
In Homer’s Comparison there is no other Circumstance alluded to but that of a remarkable Brightness: Whereas Virgil’s Comparison, beside this, seems to foretel the immense Slaughter his Hero was to make, by comparing him first to a Comet, which is vulgarly imagin’d a Prognostick, if not the real Cause of much Misery to Mankind; and again to the Dog-star, which appearing with the greatest Brightness in the latter end of Summer, is suppos’d the Occasion of all the Distempers of that sickly Season. And methinks the Objection of Macrobius to this Place is not just, who thinks the Simile unseasonably apply’d by Virgil to Aeneas, because he was yet on his Ship, and had not begun the Battel. One may answer, that this miraculous Appearance could never be more proper than at the first Sight of the Hero, to strike Terror into the Enemy, and to prognosticate his approaching Victory.
Note IV.
VERSE 27. Idaeus fled, Left the rich Chariot. ]
It is finely said by M. Dacier, that Homer appears perhaps greater by the Criticisms that have been past upon him, than by the Praises which have been given him. Zoilus had a Cavil at this Place; he thought it ridiculous in Idaeus to descend from his Chariot to fly, which he might have done faster by the help of his Horses. Three things are said in answer to this; first, that Idaeus knowing the Passion which Diomed had for Horses, might hope the Pleasure of seizing these would retard him from pursuing him. Next, that Homer might design to represent in this Action of Idaeus the common Effect of Fear, which disturbs the Understanding to such a degree, as to make Men abandon the surest means to save themselves. And then, that Idaeus might have some Advantage of Diomed in Swiftness, which he had reason to confide in. But I fancy one may add another Solution which will better account for this Passage. Homer’s word is [Greek], which I believe would be better translated non perseveravit, than non sustinuit defendere fratrem interfectum: and then the Sense will be clear, that Idaeus made an Effort to save his Brother’s Body, which proving impracticable, he was obliged to fly with the utmost Precipitation. One may add, that his alighting from his Chariot was not that he could run faster on foot, but that he could sooner escape by mixing with the Crowd of common Soldiers. There is a Particular exactly of the same Nature in the Book of Judges, Ch. 4. ℣. 15. where Sisera alights to fly in the same manner.
Note V.
VERSE 40. Who bathe in Blood. ]
It may seem something unnatural, that Pallas at a time when she is endeavouring to work upon Mars under the Appearance of Benevolence and Kindness, should make use of Terms which seem so full of bitter Reproaches; but these will appear very properly applied to this warlike Deity. For Persons of this martial Character, who scorning Equity and Reason, carry all things by Force, are better pleas’d to be celebrated for their Power than their Virtue. Statues are rais’d to the Conquerors, that is, the Destroyers of Nations, who are complemented for excelling in the Arts of Ruine. Demetrius the Son of Antigonus was celebrated by his Flatterers with the Title of Poliorcetes, a Term equivalent to one here made use of.
Note VI.
VERSE 46. The God of Arms and martial Maid retreat. ]
The Retreat of Mars from the Trojans intimates that Courage forsook them: It may be said then, that Minerva’s Absence from the Greeks will signify that Wisdom deserted them also. It is true she does desert them, but it is at a time when there was more occasion for gallant Actions than for wise Counsels. Eustathius.
Note VII.
VERSE 48. The Greeks the Trojan Race pursue. ]
Homer always appears very zealous for the Honour of Greece, which alone might be a Proof of his being of that Country, against the Opinion of those who would have him of other Nations.
It is observable thro’ the whole Ilaid, that he endeavours every where to represent the Greeks as superior to the Trojans in Valor and the Art of War. In the beginning of the third Book he describes the Trojans rushing on to the Battel in a barbarous and confus’d manner, with loud Shouts and Cries, while the Greeks advance in the most profound Silence and exact Order. And in the latter Part of the fourth Book, where the two Armies march to the Engagement, the Greeks are animated by Pallas, while Mars instigates the Trojans, the Poet attributing by this plain Allegory to the former a well-conducted Valor, to the latter rash Strength and brutal Force: So that the Abilities of each Nation are distinguish’d by the Characters of the Deities who assist them.
But in this Place, as Eustathius observes, the Poet being willing to shew how much the Greeks excell’d their Enemies when they engag’d only with their proper Force, and when each side was alike destitute of divine Assistance, takes occasion to remove the Gods out of the Battel, and then each Grecian Chief gives signal Instances of Valor superior to the Trojans. A modern Critick observes that this constant Superiority of the Greeks in the Art of War, Valor, and Number, is contradictory to the main Design of the Poem, which is to make the Return of Achilles appear necessary for the Preservation of the Greeks; but this Contradiction vanishes when we reflect that the Affront given Achilles was the occasion of Jupiter’s interposing in favour of the Trojans. Wherefore the Anger of Achilles was not pernicious to the Greeks purely because it kept him inactive, but because it occasion’d Jupiter to afflict them in such a manner, as made it necessary to appease Achilles in order to render Jupiter propitious.
Note VIII.
VERSE 63. Back from the Car he tumbles. ]
It is in Poetry as in Painting, the Postures and Attitudes of each Figure ought to be different: Homer takes care not to draw two Persons in the same Posture; one is tumbled from his Chariot, another is slain as he ascends it, a third as he endeavours to escape on Foot, a Conduct which is every where observed by the Poet. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 75. Next artful Phereclus.]
This Character of Phereclus is finely imagined, and presents a noble Moral in an uncommon manner. There ran a Report, that the Trojans had formerly receiv’d an Oracle, commanding them to follow Husbandry, and not apply themselves to Navigation. Homer from hence takes occasion to feign, that the Shipwright who presumed to build the Fleet of Paris when he took his fatal Voyage to Greece, was overtaken by the divine Vengeance so long after as in this Battel. One may take notice too in this, as in many other Places, of the remarkable Disposition Homer shews to Mechanicks; he never omits an Opportunity either of describing a Piece of Workmanship, or of celebrating an Artist.
Note X.
VERSE 92. Antenor ’s Offspring from a foreign Bed, Whose gen’rous Spouse Theano heav’nly Fair, Nurs’d the young Stranger with a Mother’s Care.
Homer in this remarkable Passage commends the fair Theano for breeding up a Bastard of her Husband’s with the same Tenderness as her own Children. This Lady was a Woman of the first Quality, and (as it appears in the sixth Iliad) the high Priestess of Minerva: So that one cannot imagine the Education of this Child was imposed upon her by the Authority or Power of Antenor; Homer himself takes care to remove any such derogatory Notion, by particularizing the Motive of this unusual Piece of Humanity to have been to please her Husband, [Greek]. Nor ought we to lessen this Commendation by thinking the Wives of those Times in general were more complaisant than those of our own. The Stories of Phoenix, Clytemnestra, Medea, and many others, are plain Instances how highly the keeping of Mistresses was resented by the married Ladies. But there was indeed a difference between the Greeks and Asiaticks as to their Notions of Marriage: For it is certain the latter allowed Plurality of Wives; Priam had many lawful ones, and some of them Princesses who brought great Dowries. Theano was an Asiatick, and that is the most we can grant; for the Son she nurs’d so carefully was apparently not by a Wife, but by a Mistress; and her Passions were naturally the same with those of the Grecian Women. As to the Degree of Regard then shewn to the Bastards, they were carefully enough educated, tho’ not (like this of Antenor ) as the lawful Issue, nor admitted to an equal share of Inheritance. Megapenthes and Nicostratus were excluded from the Inheritance of Sparta, because they were born of Bond-Women, as Pausanias says. But Neoptolemus, a natural Son of Achilles by Deidamia, succeeded in his Father’s Kingdom, perhaps with respect to his Mother’s Quality who was a Princess. Upon the whole, however that Matter stood, Homer was very favourable to Bastards, and has paid them more Complements than one in his Works. If I am not mistaken Ulysses reckons himself one in the Odysseis. Agamemnon in the eighth Iliad plainly accounts it no Disgrace, when charm’d with the noble Exploits of young Teucer, and praising him in the Rapture of his Heart, he just then takes occasion to mention his Illegitimacy as a kind of Panegyrick upon him. The Reader may consult the Passage, ℣. 284 of the Original and ℣. 333 of the Translation. From all this I should not be averse to believe that Homer himself was a Bastard, as Virgil was, of which I think this Observation a better Proof, than what is said for it in the common Lives of him.
Note XI.
VERSE 100. —Hypsenor, gen’rous and divine, Sprung from the brave Dolopion ’s mighty Line; Who near ador’d Scamander made Abode; Priest of the Stream, and honour’d as a God.
From the Number of Circumstances put together here, and in many other Passages, of the Parentage, Place of Abode, Profession, and Quality of the Persons our Author mentions; I think it is plain he composed his Poem from some Records or Traditions of the Actions of the Times preceding, and complied with the Truth of History. Otherwise these particular Descriptions of Genealogies and other minute Circumstances would have been an Affectation extremely needless and unreasonable. This Consideration will account for several things that seem odd or tedious, not to add that one may naturally believe he took these Occasions of paying a Complement to many great Men and Families of his Patrons, both in Greece and Asia.
Note XII.
VERSE 108. Down sinks the Priest. ]
Homer makes him die upon the cutting off his Arm, which is an Instance of his Skill; for the great Flux of Blood that must follow such a Wound, would be the immediate Cause of Death.
Note XIII.
VERSE 116. Thus Torrents swift and strong. ]
This whole Passage (says Eustathius ) is extremely beautiful. It describes the Hero carry’d by an Enthusiastick Valor into the midst of his Enemies, and so mingled with their Ranks as if himself were a Trojan. And the Simile wonderfully illustrates this Fury proceeding from an uncommon Infusion of Courage from Heaven, in resembling it not to a constant River, but a Torrent rising from an extraordinary Burst of Rain. This Simile is one of those that draws along with it some foreign Circumstances: We must not often expect from Homer those minute Resemblances in every Branch of a Comparison, which are the Pride of modern Similes. If that which one may call the main Action of it, or the principal Point of Likeness, be preserved; he affects, as to the rest, rather to present the Mind with a great Image, than to fix it down to an exact one. He is sure to make a fine Picture in the whole, without drudging on the under Parts; like those free Painters who (one would think) had only made here and there a few very significant Strokes, that give Form and Spirit to all the Piece. For the present Comparison, Virgil in the second Aeneid has inserted an Imitation of it, which I cannot think equal to this, tho’ Scaliger prefers Virgil’s to all our Author’s Similitudes from Rivers put together.
Non sic aggeribus ruptis cum spumeus amnis Exiit, oppositasque evicit gurgite moles, Fertur in arva furens cumulo, camposque per omnes Cum stabulis armenta trahit—
Not with so fierce a Rage, the foaming Flood Roars, when he finds his rapid Course withstood; Bears down the Dams with unresisted Sway, And sweeps the Cattel and the Cotts away. Dryden.
Note XIV.
VERSE 139. The Dart stopt short of Life. ]
Homer says it did not kill him, and I am at a Loss why M. Dacier translates it, The Wound was slight; when just after the Arrow is said to have pierc’d quite thro’, and she herself there turns it, Perçoit l’espaule d’outre en outre. Had it been so slight, he would not have needed the immediate Assistance of Minerva to restore his usual Vigor, and enable him to continue the Fight.
Note XV.
VERSE 164. From mortal Mists I purge thy Eyes. ]
This Fiction of Homer (says M. Dacier ) is founded upon an important Truth of Religion, not unknown to the Pagans, that God only can open the Eyes of Men, and enable them to see what they cannot discover by their own Capacity. There are frequent Examples of this in the Old Testament. God opens the Eyes of Hagar that she might see the Fountain, in Genes. 21. ℣. 14. So Numbers 22. ℣. 31. The Lord open’d the Eyes of Balaam, and he saw the Angel of the Lord standing in his way, and his Sword drawn in his Hand. A Passage much resembling this of our Author. Venus in Virgil’s second Aeneid performs the same Office to Aeneas, and shews him the Gods who were engag’d in the Destruction of Troy.
Aspice; namque omnem quae nunc obducta tuenti Mortales hebetat visus tibi, & humida circum Caligat, nubem eripiam— Apparent dirae facies, inimicaque Trojae Numina magna Deûm.—
Milton seems likewise to have imitated this where he makes Michael open Adam’s Eyes to see the future Revolutions of the World, and Fortunes of his Posterity, Book 11.
—He purg’d with Euphrasie and Rue The visual Nerve, for he had much to see, And from the Well of Life three Drops distill’d.
This distinguishing Sight of Diomed was given him only for the present Occasion and Service in which he was employ’d by Pallas. For we find in the sixth Book that upon meeting Glaucus, he is ignorant whether that Hero be a Man or a God.
Note XVI.
VERSE 194. No mystic Dream. ]
This Line in the Original, [Greek], contains as puzzling a Passage for the Construction as I have met with in Homer. Most Interpreters join the negative Particle [Greek]with the Verb [Greek], which may receive three different Meanings: That Eurydamas had not interpreted the Dreams of his Children when they went to the Wars, or that he had foretold them by their Dreams they should never return from the Wars, or that he should now no more have the Satisfaction to interpret their Dreams at their Return. After all, this Construction seems forced, and no way agreeable to the general Idiom of the Greek Language, or to Homer’s simple Diction in particular. If we join [Greek]with [Greek], I think the most obvious Sense will be this; Diomed attacks the two Sons of Eurydamas an old Interpreter of Dreams; his Children not returning, the Prophet sought by his Dreams to know their Fate; however they fall by the Hands of Diomed. This Interpretation seems natural and poetical, and tends to move Compassion, which is almost constantly the Design of the Poet in his frequent short Digressions concerning the Circumstances and Relations of dying Persons.
Note XVII.
VERSE 202. To Strangers now descends his wealthy Store. ]
This is a Circumstance than which nothing could be imagined more tragical, considering the Character of the Father. Homer says the Trustees of the remote collateral Relations seiz’d the Estate before his Eyes (according to a Custom of those Times) which to a covetous old Man must be the greatest of Miseries.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 212. Divine Aeneas.]
It is here Aeneas begins to act, and if we take a View of the whole Episode of this Hero in Homer, where he makes but an Under-part, it will appear that Virgil has kept him perfectly in the same Character in his Poem, where he shines as the first Hero. His Piety and his Valor, tho’ not drawn at so full a length, are mark’d no less in the Original than in the Copy. It is the manner of Homer to express very strongly the Character of each Person in the first Speech he is made to utter in the Poem. In this of Aeneas, there is a great Air of Piety in those Strokes, Is he some God who punishes Troy for having neglected his Sacrifices? And then that Sentence, The Anger of Heaven is terrible. When he is in Danger afterwards, he is saved by the heavenly Assistance of two Deities at once, and his Wounds cured in the holy Temple of Pergamus by Latona and Diana. As to his Valor, he is second only to Hector, and in personal Bravery as great in the Greek Author as in the Roman. He is made to exert himself on Emergencies of the first Importance and Hazard, rather than on common Occasions: he checks Diomed here in the midst of his Fury; in the thirteenth Book defends his Friend Deiphobus before it was his Turn to fight, being placed in one of the hindmost Ranks (which Homer, to take off all Objection to his Valor, tells us happen’d because Priam had an Animosity to him, tho’ he was one of the bravest of the Army.) He is one of those who rescue Hector when he is overthrown by Ajax in the fourteenth Book. And what alone were sufficient to establish him a first-rate Hero, he is the first that dares resist Achilles himself at his Return to the Fight in all his Rage for the Loss of Patroclus. He indeed avoids encountering two at once, in the present Book; and shews upon the whole a sedate and deliberate Courage, which if not so glaring as that of some others, is yet more just. It is worth considering how thoroughly Virgil penetrated into all this, and saw into the very Idea of Homer; so as to extend and call forth the whole Figure in its full Dimensions and Colours from the slightest Hints and Sketches which were but casually touch’d by Homer, and even in some Points too where they were rather left to be understood, than express’d. And this, by the way, ought to be consider’d by those Criticks who object to Virgil’s Hero the want of that sort of Courage which strikes us so much in Homer’s Achilles. Aeneas was not the Creature of Virgil’s Imagination, but one whom the World was already acquainted with, and expected to see continued in the same Character; and one who perhaps was chosen for the Hero of the Latin Poem, not only as he was the Founder of the Roman Empire, but as this more calm and regular Character better agreed with the Temper and Genius of the Poet himself.
Note XIX.
VERSE 242. Skill’d in the Bow, &c.]
We see thro’ this whole Discourse of Pandarus the Character of a vain-glorious passionate Prince, who being skill’d in the Use of the Bow, was highly valued by himself and others for this Excellence; but having been successless in two different Trials of his Skill, he is rais’d into an outragious Passion, which vents itself in vain Threats on his guiltless Bow. Eustathius on this Passage relates a Story of a Paphlagonian famous like him for his Archery, who having miss’d his Aim at repeated Trials, was so transported by Rage, that breaking his Bow and Arrows, he executed a more fatal Vengeance by hanging himself.
Note XX.
VERSE 244. Ten polish’d Chariots. ]
Among the many Pictures Homer gives us of the Simplicity of the Heroic Ages, he mingles from time to time some Hints of an extraordinary Magnificence. We have here a Prince who has all these Chariots for Pleasure at one time, with their particular Sets of Horses to each, and the most sumptuous Coverings in their Stables. But we must remember that he speaks of an Asiatic Prince, those Barbarians living in great Luxury. Dacier.
Note XXI.
VERSE 252. Yet to Thrift inclin’d. ]
’Tis Eustathius his Remark, that Pandarus did this out of Avarice, to save the Expence of his Horses. I like this Conjecture, because nothing seems more judicious, than to give a Man of a perfidious Character a strong Tincture of Avarice.
Note XXII.
VERSE 261. And undissembled Gore pursu’d the Wound. ]
The Greek is [Greek]. He says he is sure it was real Blood that follow’d his Arrow; because it was anciently a Custom, particularly among the Spartans, to have Ornaments and Figures of a purple Colour on their Breast-Plates, that the Blood they lost might not be seen by the Soldiers, and tend to their Discouragement. Plutarch in his Instit. Lacon. takes notice of this Point of Antiquity, and I wonder it escap’d Madam Dacier in her Translation.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 273. Nor Phoebus’ honour’d Gift disgrace. ]
For Homer tells us in the second Book, ℣. 334 of the Catalogue, that the Bow and Shafts of Pandarus were given him by Apollo.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 284. Haste, seize the Whip, &c.]
Homer means not here, that one of the Heroes should alight or descend from the Chariot, but only that he should quit the Reins to the Management of the other, and stand on Foot upon the Chariot to fight from thence. As one might use the Expression, to descend from the Ship, to signify to quit the Helm or Oar, in order to take up Arms. This is the Note of Eustathius, by which it appears that most of the Translators are mistaken in the Sense of this Passage, and among the rest Mr. Hobbes.
Note XXV.
VERSE 320. One Chief at least beneath this Arm shall die. ]
It is the manner of our Author to make his Persons have some Intimation from within, either of prosperous or adverse Fortune, before it happens to them. In the present Instance, we have seen Aeneas, astonish’d at the great Exploits of Diomed, proposing to himself the Means of his Escape by the Swiftness of his Horses, before he advances to encounter him. On the other hand, Diomed is so filled with Assurance, that he gives Orders here to Sthenelus to seize those Horses, before they come up to him. The Opposition of these two (as Mad. Dacier has remark’d) is very observable.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 327. The Coursers of Aethereal Breed. ]
We have already observed the great Delight Homer takes in Horses. He makes some Horses, as well as Heroes, of celestial Race: and if he has been thought too fond of the Genealogies of some of his Warriors, in relating them even in a Battel; we find him here as willing to trace that of his Horses in the same Circumstance. These were of that Breed which Jupiter bestow’d upon Tros, and far superior to the common Strain of Trojan Horses. So that (according to Eustathius’s Opinion) the Translators are mistaken who turn [Greek]the Trojan Horses, in ℣. 222 of the Original, where Aeneas extolls their Qualities to Pandarus. The same Author takes notice, that Frauds in the Case of Horses have been thought excusable in all Times, and commends Anchises for this Piece of Theft. Virgil was so well pleas’d with it as to imitate this Passage in the seventh Aeneid.
Absenti Aeneae currum, geminosque jugales Semine ab aethereo, spirantes naribus ignem, Illorum de gente, patri quos daedala Circe Supposita de matre nothos furata creavit.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 353. Full in his Face it enter’d. ]
It has been ask’d, how Diomed being on Foot, could naturally be suppos’d to give such a Wound as is describ’d here. Were it never so improbable, the express mention that Minerva conducted the Javelin to that Part, would render this Passage unexceptionable. But without having recourse to a Miracle, such a Wound might be receiv’d by Pandarus either if he stoop’d; or if his Enemy took the Advantage of a rising Ground, by which means he might not impossibly stand higher, tho’ the other were in a Chariot. This is the Solution given by the ancient Scholia, which is confirm’d by the Lowness of the Chariots, observed in the Essay on Homer’s Battels.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 361. To guard his slaughter’d Friend Aeneas flies. ]
This protecting of the dead Body was not only an Office of Piety agreeable to the Character of Aeneas in particular, but look’d upon as a Matter of great Importance in those Times. It was believ’d that the very Soul of the deceas’d suffer’d by the Body’s remaining destitute of the Rites of Sepulture, as not being else admitted to pass the Waters of Styx.
Haec omnis, quam cernis, inops inhumataque turba est; Portitor ille, Charon; hi, quos vehit unda, sepulti. Nec ripas datur horrendas & rauca fluenta Transportare prius, quam sedibus ossa quierunt. Centum errant annos, volitantque haec litora circum. Virg. Aen. 6.
Whoever considers this, will not be surprized at those long and obstinate Combates for the Bodies of the Heroes, so frequent in the Iliad. Homer thought it of such Weight, that he has put this Circumstance of want of Burial into the Proposition at the beginning of his Poem, as one of the chief Misfortunes that befel the Greeks.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 371. Not two strong Men. ]
This Opinion of a Degeneracy of human Size and Strength in the Process of Ages, has been very general. Lucretius, Lib. 2.
Jamque adeo fracta est aetas, effoetaque tellus Vix animalia parva creat, quae cuncta creavit Saecla, deditque ferarum ingentia corpora partu.
The active Life and Temperance of the first Men, before their native Powers were prejudiced by Luxury, may be supposed to have given them this Advantage. Celsus in his first Book observes, that Homer mentions no sort of Diseases in the old Heroic Times but what were immediately inflicted by Heaven, as if their Temperance and Exercise preserved them from all besides. Virgil imitates this Passage, with a farther Allowance of the Decay in Proportion to the Distance of his Time from that of Homer. For he says it was an Attempt that exceeded the Strength of twelve Men, instead of two.
—Saxum circumspicit ingens— Vix illud lecti bis sex cervice subirent. Qualia nunc hominum producit corpora tellus.
Juvenal has made an agreeable Use of this Thought in his fourteenth Satyr.
Nam genus hoc vivo jam decrescebat Homero, Terra malos homines nunc educat, atque pusillos.
Note XXX.
VERSE 391. Hid from the Foe behind her shining Veil. ]
Homer says, she spread her Veil that it might be a Defence against the Darts. How comes it then afterwards to be pierc’d thro’, when Venus is wounded? It is manifest the Veil was not impenetrable, and is said here to be a Defence only as it render’d Aeneas invisible, by being interposed. This is the Observation of Eustathius, and was thought too material to be neglected in the Translation.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 403. To bold Deipylus —Whom most he lov’d. ]
Sthenelus (says M. Dacier ) loved Deipylus, parce qu’il avoit la mesme humeur que luy, la mesme sagesse. The Words in the Original are [Greek]Because his Mind was equal and consentaneous to his own; which I should rather translate, with regard to the Character of Sthenelus, that he had the same Bravery, than the same Wisdom. For that Sthenelus was not remarkable for Wisdom appears from many Passages, and particularly from his Speech to Agamemnon in the fourth Book, upon which see Plutarch’s Remark, Note 28.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 408. The Chief in chace of Venus flies. ]
We have seen with what Ease Venus takes Paris out of the Battel in the third Book, when his Life was in danger from Menelaus; but here when she has a Charge of more Importance and nearer Concern, she is not able to preserve her self or her Son from the Fury of Diomed. The difference of Success in two Attempts so like each other, is occasion’d by that Penetration of Sight with which Pallas had endu’d her Favorite. For the Gods in their Intercourse with Men are not ordinarily seen but when they please to render themselves visible; wherefore Venus might think her self and her Son secure from the Insolence of this daring Mortal; but was in this deceiv’d, being ignorant of that Faculty, wherewith the Hero was enabled to distinguish Gods as well as Men.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 419. Her snowie Hand the razing Steel profan’d. ]
Plutarch in his Symposiacks l. 9. tells us, that Maximus the Rhetorician propos’d this far-fetch’d Question at a Banquet, On which of her Hands Venus was wounded? and that Zopyrion answer’d it by asking, On which of his Legs Philip was lame? But Maximus reply’d it was a different Case: For Demosthenes left no Foundation to guess at the one, whereas Homer gives a Solution of the other, in saying that Diomed throwing his Spear across, wounded her Wrist: so that it was her right Hand he hurt, her left being opposite to his right. He adds another humorous Reason from Pallas’s reproaching her afterwards, as having got this Wound while she was stroking and solliciting some Grecian Lady, and unbuckling her Zone; An Action (says this Philosopher) in which no one would make use of the left Hand.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 422. Such Stream as issues from a wounded God. ]
This is one of those Passages in Homer which have given occasion to that famous Censure of Tully and Longinus, That he makes Gods of his Heroes, and Mortals of his Gods. These, taken in a general Sense, appear’d the highest Impiety to Plato and Pythagoras; one of whom has banish’d Homer from his Commonwealth, and the other said he was tortured in Hell, for Fictions of this Nature. But if a due Distinction be made of a difference among Beings superior to Mankind, which both the Pagans and Christians have allowed, these Fables may be easily accounted for. Wounds inflicted on the Dragon, Bruising of the Serpent’s Head, and other such metaphorical Images are consecrated in holy Writ, and apply’d to Angelical and incorporeal Natures. But in our Author’s Days they had a Notion of Gods that were corporeal, to whom they ascribed Bodies, tho’ of a more subtil Kind than those of Mortals. So in this very Place he supposes them to have Blood, but Blood of a finer and superior Nature. Notwithstanding the foregoing Censures, Milton has not scrupled to imitate and apply this to Angels in the Christian System, when Satan is wounded by Michael in his sixth Book.
—Then Satan first knew Pain, And writh’d him to and fro convolv’d; so sore The griding Sword with discontinuous Wound Pass’d thro’ him; but th’ Aetherial Substance clos’d, Not long divisible, and from the gash A Stream of Nectarous Humour issuing flow’d, Sanguin, such as Celestial Spirits may bleed— Yet soon he heal’d, for Spirits that live throughout, Vital in ev’ry Part, not as frail Man In Entrails, Head or Heart, Liver or Reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
Aristotle, Cap. 26. Art. Poet. excuses Homer for following Fame and common Opinion in his Account of the Gods, tho’ no way agreeable to Truth. The Religion of those Times taught no other Notions of the Deity, than that the Gods were Beings of human Forms and Passions; so that any but a real Anthropomorphite would probably have past among the ancient Greeks for an impious Heretick: They thought their Religion, which worshipped the Gods in Images of human Shape, was much more refin’d and rational than that of Aegypt and other Nations, who ador’d them in animal or monstrous Forms. And certainly Gods of human Shape cannot justly be esteemed or described otherwise, than as a celestial Race, superior only to mortal Men by greater Abilities, and a more extensive Degree of Wisdom and Strength, subject however to the necessary Inconveniencies consequent to corporeal Beings. Cicero in his Book de Nat. Deor. urges this Consequence strongly against the Epicureans, who tho’ they depos’d the Gods from any Power in creating or governing the World, yet maintain’d their Existence in human Forms.
Non enim sentitis quam multa vobis suscipienda sunt si impetraveritis ut concedamus eandem esse hominum & deorum
figuram; omnis cultus & curatio corporis erit eadem adhibenda Deo quae adhibetur homini, ingressus, cursus, accubatio, inclinatio, sessio, comprehensio, ad extremum etiam sermo & oratio. Nam quod & mares Deos & faeminas esse dicitis, quid sequatur videtis.
This Particular of the wounding of Venus seems to be a Fiction of Homer’s own Brain, naturally deducible from the Doctrine of corporeal Gods above-mentioned; and considered as Poetry, no way shocking. Yet our Author as if he had foreseen some Objection, has very artfully inserted a Justification of this bold Stroke, in the Speech Dione soon after makes to Venus. For as it was natural to comfort her Daughter, by putting her in mind that many other Deities had receiv’d as ill Treatment from Mortals by the Permission of Jupiter; so it was of great Use to the Poet, to enumerate those ancient Fables to the same Purpose, which being then generally assented to might obtain Credit for his own. This fine Remark belongs to Eustathius.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 424. Unlike our gross, diseas’d, terrestrial Blood, &c.]
The Opinion of the Incorruptibility of Celestial Matter seems to have been receiv’d in the Time of Homer. For he makes the Immortality of the Gods to depend upon the incorruptible Nature of the Nutriment by which they are sustained: As the Mortality of Men to proceed from the corruptible Materials of which they are made, and by which they are nourished. We have several Instances in him from whence this may be inferred, as when Diomed questions Glaucus if he be a God or a Mortal, he adds, One who is sustained by the Fruits of the Earth. Lib. 6. ℣. 142.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 449. Low at his Knee she begg’d. ]
All the former English Translators make it, she fell on her Knees, an Oversight occasion’d by the want of a competent Knowledge in Antiquities (without which no Man can tolerably understand this Author.) For the Custom of praying on the Knees was unknown to the Greeks, and in use only among the Hebrews.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 472. And share those Griefs inferior Pow’rs must share. ]
The word Inferior is added by the Translator, to open the Distinction Homer makes between the Divinity itself, which he represents impassible, and the subordinate celestial Beings or Spirits.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 475. The mighty Mars, &c.]
Homer in these Fables, as upon many other Occasions, makes a great Show of his Theological Learning, which was the manner of all the Greeks who had travell’d into Aegypt. Those who would see these Allegories explained at large, may consult Eustathius on this Place. Virgil speaks much in the same Figure when he describes the happy Peace with which Augustus had blest the World,
—Furor impius intus Saeva sedens super arma, & centum vinctus aënis Post tergum nodis, fremit horridus ore cruento.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 479. Perhaps had perish’d. ]
Some of Homer’s Censurers have inferr’d from this Passage, that the Poet represents his Gods subject to Death, when nothing but great Misery is here described. It is a common way of Speech to use Perdition and Destruction for Misfortune. The Language of Scripture calls eternal Punishment perishing everlastingly. There is a remarkable Passage to this Purpose in Tacitus, An. 6. which very lively represents the miserable State of a distracted Tyrant: It is the beginning of a Letter from Tiberius to the Senate,
Quid scribam vobis, P. C. aut quomodo scribam, aut quid omnino non scribam hoc tempore, Dii me deaeque pejus perdant quam perire quotidie sentio, si scio.
Note XL.
VERSE 498. No Infant on his Knees shall call him Sire. ]
This is Homer’s manner of foretelling that he shall perish unfortunately in Battel, which is infinitely a more artful way of conveying that Thought than by a direct Expression. He does not simply say, he shall never return from the War, but intimates as much by describing the Loss of the most sensible and affecting Pleasure that a Warrior can receive at his Return. Of the like Nature is the Prophecy at the end of this Speech of the Hero’s Death, by representing it in a Dream of his Wife’s. There are many fine Strokes of this kind in the Prophetical Parts of the Old Testament. Nothing is more natural than Dione’s forming these Images of Revenge upon Diomed, the Hope of which Vengeance was so proper a Topick of Consolation to Venus.
Note XLI.
VERSE 500. To stretch thee pale, &c.]
Virgil has taken notice of this threatning Denunciation of Vengeance, tho’ fulfill’d in a different manner, where Diomed in his Answer to the Embassador of K. Latinus enumerates his Misfortunes, and imputes the Cause of them to this impious Attempt upon Venus. Aeneid, Lib. 11.
Invidisse Deos patriis ut redditus oris Conjugium optatum & pulchram Calydona viderem? Nunc etiam horribili visu portenta sequuntur: Et socii amissi petierunt Aequora pennis: Fluminibusque vagantur aves (heu dira meorum Supplicia!) & scopulos, lachrymosis vocibus implent. Haec adeo ex illo mihi jam speranda fuerunt Tempore, cum ferro caelestia corpora demens Appetii, & Veneris violavi vulnere dextram.
Note XLII.
VERSE 501. Thy distant Wife. ]
The Poet seems here to complement the Fair Sex at the Expence of Truth, by concealing the Character of Aegiale, whom he has describ’d with the Disposition of a faithful Wife; tho’ the History of those Times represents her as an abandon’d Prostitute, who gave up her own Person and her Husband’s Crown to her Lover. So that Diomed at his Return from Troy, when he expected to be receiv’d with all the Tenderness of a loving Spouse, found his Bed and Throne possess’d by an Adulterer, was forc’d to fly his Country, and seek Refuge and Subsistence in foreign Lands. Thus the offended Goddess executed her Vengeance by the proper Effects of her own Power, by involving the Hero in a Series of Misfortunes proceeding from the Incontinence of his Wife.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 517. The Sire of Gods and Men superior smil’d. ]
One may observe the Decorum and Decency our Author constantly preserves on this Occasion: Jupiter only smiles, the other Gods laugh out. That Homer was no Enemy to Mirth may appear from several Places of his Poem; which so serious as it is, is interspers’d with many Gayeties, indeed more than he has been follow’d in by the succeeding Epic Poets. Milton, who was perhaps fonder of him than the rest, has given most into the ludicrous; of which his Paradise of Fools in the third Book, and his Jesting Angels in the sixth, are extraordinary Instances. Upon the Confusion of Babel, he says there was great Laughter in Heaven: as Homer calls the Laughter of the Gods in the first Book [Greek], an inextinguishable Laugh: But the Scripture might perhaps embolden the English Poet, which says, The Lord shall laugh them to Scorn, and the like. Plato is very angry at Homer for making the Deities laugh, as a high Indecency and Offence to Gravity. He says the Gods in our Author represent Magistrates and Persons in Authority, and are designed as Examples to such: On this Supposition, he blames him for proposing immoderate Laughter as a thing decent in great Men. I forgot to take notice in its proper Place, that the Epither inextinguishable is not to be taken literally for dissolute or ceasless Mirth, but was only a Phrase of that time to signify Chearfulness and seasonable Gayety; in the same manner as we may now say, to die with Laughter, without being understood to be in danger of dying with it. The Place, Time, and Occasion were all agreeable to Mirth: It was at a Banquet; and Plato himself relates several things that past at the Banquet of Agathon, which had not been either decent or rational at any other Season. The same may be said of the present Passage: Raillery could never be more natural than when two of the Female Sex had an Opportunity of triumphing over another whom they hated. Homer makes Wisdom her self not able, even in the Presence of Jupiter, to resist the Temptation. She breaks into a ludicrous Speech, and the supreme Being himself vouchsafes a Smile at it. But this (as Eustathius remarks) is not introduduced without Judgment and Precaution. For we see he makes Minerva first beg Jupiter’s Permission for this Piece of Freedom, Permit thy Daughter, gracious Jove; in which he asks the Reader’s leave to enliven his Narration with this Piece of Gayety.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 540. He dreads his Fury, and some Steps retires. ]
Diomed still maintains his intrepid Character; he retires but a Step or two even from Apollo. The Conduct of Homer is remarkably just and rational here. He gives Diomed no sort of Advantage over Apollo, because he would not feign what was entirely incredible, and what no Allegory could justify. He wounds Venus and Mars, as it is morally possible to overcome the irregular Passions which are represented by those Deities. But it is impossible to vanquish Apollo, in whatsoever Capacity he is considered, either as the Sun, or as Destiny: One may shoot at the Sun but not hurt him, and one may strive against Destiny but not surmount it. Eustathius.
Note XLV.
VERSE 546. A Phantome rais’d. ]
The Fiction of a God’s placing a Phantome instead of the Hero, to delude the Enemy and continue the Engagement, means no more than that the Enemy thought he was in the Battel. This is the Language of Poetry, which prefers a marvellous Fiction to a plain and simple Truth, the Recital whereof would be cold and unaffecting. Thus Minerva’s guiding a Javelin, signifies only that it was thrown with Art and Dexterity; Mars taking upon him the Shape of Acamas, that the Courage of Acamas incited him to do so, and in like manner of the rest. The present Passage is copied by Virgil in the tenth Aeneid, where the Spectre of Aeneas is raised by Juno or the Air, as it is here by Apollo or the Sun; both equally proper to be employ’d in forming an Apparition. Whoever will compare the two Authors on this Subject, will observe with what admirable Art, and what exquisite Ornaments, the latter has improved and beautify’d his Original. Scaliger in comparing these Places, has absurdly censured the Phantome of Homer for its Inactivity; whereas it was only form’d to represent the Hero lying on the Ground, without any Appearance of Life or Motion. Spencer in the eighth Canto of the third Book seems to have improved this Imagination, in the Creation of his false Florimel, who performs all the Functions of Life, and gives occasion for many Adventures.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 575. The Speech of Sarpedon to Hector.]
It will be hard to find a Speech more warm and spirited than this of Sarpedon, or which comprehends so much in so few Words. Nothing could be more artfully thought upon to pique Hector, who was so jealous of his Country’s Glory, than to tell him he had formerly conceiv’d too great a Notion of the Trojan Valor; and to exalt the Auxiliaries above his Countrymen. The Description Sarpedon gives of the little Concern or Interest himself had in the War, in Opposition to the Necessity and imminent Danger of the Trojans, greatly strengthens this Preference, and lays the Charge very home upon their Honour. In the latter Part, which prescribes Hector his Duty, there is a particular Reprimand in telling him how much it behoves him to animate and encourage the Auxiliaries; for this is to say in other Words, You should exhort them, and they are forc’d on the contrary to exhort you.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 611. Ceres’ sacred Floor. ]
Homer calls the Threshing Floor sacred (says Eustathius ) not only as it was consecrated to Ceres, but in regard of its great Use and Advantage to human Kind; in which Sense also he frequently gives the same Epithet to Cities, &c. This Simile is of an exquisite Beauty.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 641. So when th’ embattel’d Clouds. ]
This Simile contains as proper a Comparison, and as fine a Picture of Nature as any in Homer: Yet however it is to be fear’d the Beauty and Propriety of it will not be very obvious to many Readers, because it is the Description of a natural Appearance which they have not had an Opportunity to remark, and which can be observed only in a mountainous Country. It happens frequently in very calm Weather, that the Atmosphere is charg’d with thick Vapors, whose Gravity is such, that they neither rise nor fall, but remain poiz’d in the Air at a certain Height, where they continue frequently for several Days together. In a plain Country this occasions no other visible Appearance, but of an uniform clouded Sky; but in a Hilly Region these Vapors are to be seen covering the Tops and stretch’d along the Sides of the Mountains, the clouded Parts above being terminated and distinguish’d from the clear Parts below by a strait Line running parallel to the Horizon, as far as the Mountains extend. The whole Compass of Nature cannot afford a nobler and more exact Representation of a numerous Army, drawn up in Line of Battel, and expecting the Charge. The long-extended even front, the Closeness of the Ranks; the Firmness, Order, and Silence of the whole, are all drawn with great Resemblance in this one Comparison. The Poet adds, that this Appearance is while Boreas and the other boisterous Winds which disperse and break the Clouds, are laid asleep. This is as exact as it is Poetical; for when the Winds arise, this regular Order is soon dissolv’d. This Circumstance is added to the Description, as an ominous Anticipation of the Flight and Dissipation of the Greeks, which soon ensued when Mars and Hector broke in upon them.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 651. Ye Greeks be Men, &c.]
If Homer in the longer Speeches of the Iliad, says all that could be said by Eloquence, in the shorter he says all that can be said with Judgment. Whatever some few modern Criticks have thought, it will be found upon due Reflection, that the Length or Brevity of his Speeches is determined as the Occasions either allow Leisure or demand Haste. This concise Oration of Agamemnon is a Masterpiece in the Laconic way. The Exigence required he should say something very powerful, and no Time was to be lost. He therefore warms the Brave and the Timorous by one and the same Exhortation, which at once moves by the Love of Glory, and the Fear of Death. It is short and full, like that of the brave Scotch General under Gustavus, who upon Sight of the Enemy, said only this; See ye those Lads? Either fell them or they’ll fell you.
Note L.
VERSE 652. Your brave Associates and your selves revere. ]
This noble Exhortation of Agamemnon is correspondent to the wise Scheme of Nestor in the second Book: where he advised to rank the Soldiers of the same Nation together, that being known to each other, all might be incited either by a generous Emulation or a decent Shame. Spondanus.
Note LI.
VERSE 691. Mars urg’d him on. ]
This is another Instance of what has been in general observ’d in the Discourse on the Battels of Homer, his artful manner of making us measure one Hero by another. We have here an exact Scale of the Valor of Aeneas and of Menelaus; how much the former outweighs the latter, appears by what is said of Mars in these Lines, and by the Necessity of Antilochus’s assisting Menelaus: as afterwards what Over-balance that Assistance gave him, by Aeneas’s retreating from them both. How very nicely are these Degrees mark’d on either Hand? This Knowledge of the Difference which Nature itself sets between one Man and another, makes our Author neither blame these two Heroes for going against one, who was superior to each of them in Strength; nor that one for retiring from both, when their Conjunction made them an Overmatch to him. There is great Judgment in all this.
Note LII.
VERSE 696. And all his Country’s glorious Labours vain. ]
For (as Agamemnon said in the fourth Book upon Menelaus’s being wounded) if he were slain, the War would be at an end, and the Greeks think only of returning to their Country. Spondanus.
Note LIII.
VERSE 726. Mars, stern Destroyer, &c.]
There is a great Nobleness in this Passage. With what Pomp is Hector introduced into the Battel, where Mars and Bellona are his Attendants? The Retreat of Diomed is no less beautiful; Minerva had remov’d the Mist from his Eyes, and he immediately discovers Mars assisting Hector. His Surprize on this Occasion is finely imag’d by that of the Traveller on the sudden Sight of the River.
Note LIV.
VERSE 784. What brings this Lycian Counsellor so far? ]
There is a particular Sarcasm in Tlepolemus’s calling Sarpedon in this Place [Greek]Lycian Counsellor, one better skill’d in Oratory than War; as he was the Governor of a People who had long been in Peace, and probably (if we may guess from his Character in Homer ) remarkable for his Speeches. This is rightly observed by Spondanus, tho’ not taken notice of by M. Dacier.
Note LV.
VERSE 792. Troy felt his Arm. ]
He alludes to the History of the first Destruction of Troy by Hercules, occasion’d by Laomedon’s refusing that Hero the Horses, which were the Reward promis’d him for the Delivery of his Daughter Hesione.
Note LVI.
VERSE 809. With base Reproaches and unmanly Pride. ]
Methinks these Words [Greek]include the chief Sting of Sarpedon’s Answer to Tlepolemus, which no Commentator that I remember has remark’d. He tells him Laomedon deserv’d his Misfortune, not only for his Perfidy, but for injuring a brave Man with unmanly and scandalous Reproaches; alluding to those which Tlepolemus had just before cast upon him.
Note LVII.
VERSE 848. Nor Hector to the Chief replies. ]
Homer is in nothing more admirable than in the excellent Use he makes of the Silence of the Persons he introduces. It would be endless to collect all the Instances of this Truth throughout his Poem; yet I cannot but put together those that have already occurr’d in the Course of this Work, and leave to the Reader the Pleasure of observing it in what remains. The Silence of the two Heralds when they were to take Briseis from Achilles in Lib. 1. of which see Note 39. In the third Book, when Iris tells Helen the two Rivals were to fight in her Quarrel, and that all Troy were standing Spectators; that guilty Princess makes no Answer, but casts a Veil over her Face and drops a Tear; and when she comes just after into the Presence of Priam, she speaks not, till after he has in a particular manner encourag’d and commanded her. Paris and Menelaus being just upon the Point to encounter, the latter declares his Wishes and Hopes of Conquest to Heaven, the former being engag’d in an unjust Cause, says not a word. In the fourth Book, when Jupiter has express’d his Desire to favour Troy, Juno declaims against him, but the Goddess of Wisdom, tho’ much concern’d, holds her Peace. When Agamemnon too rashly reproves Diomed, that Hero remains silent, and in the true Character of a rough Warrior, leaves it to his Actions to speak for him. In the present Book when Sarpedon has reproach’d Hector in an open and generous manner, Hector preserving the same warlike Character, returns no Answer, but immediately hastens to the Business of the Field; as he also does in this Place, where he instantly brings off Sarpedon, without so much as telling him he will endeavour his Rescue. Chapman was not sensible of the Beauty of this, when he imagined Hector’s Silence here proceeded from the Pique he had conceiv’d at Sarpedon for his late Reproof of him. That Translator has not scrupled to insert this Opinion of his in a groundless Interpolation altogether foreign to the Author. But indeed it is a Liberty he frequently takes, to draw any Passage to some new, far-fetch’d Conceit of his Invention; insomuch, that very often before he translates any Speech, to the Sense or Design of which he gives some fanciful Turn of his own; he prepares it by several additional Lines purposely to prepossess the Reader of that Meaning. Those who will take the Trouble may see Examples of this in what he sets before the Speeches of Hector, Paris, and Helena in the sixth Book, and innumerable other Places.
Note LVIII.
VERSE 858. But Boreas rising fresh. ]
Sarpedon’s fainting at the Extraction of the Dart, and reviving by the free Air, shews the great Judgment of our Author in these Matters. But how Poetically has he told this Truth in raising the God Boreas to his Hero’s Assistance, and making a little Machine of but one Line? This manner of representing common Things in Figure and Person, was perhaps the Effect of Homer’s Aegyptian Education.
Note LIX.
VERSE 860. The gen’rous Greeks, &c.]
This slow and orderly Retreat of the Greeks with their Front constantly turn’d to the Enemy, is a fine Encomium both of their Courage and Discipline. This manner of Retreat was in use among the ancient Lacedaemonians, as were many other martial Customs describ’d by Homer. This Practice took its Rise among that brave People from the Apprehensions of being slain with a Wound receiv’d in their Back. Such a Misfortune was not only attended with the highest Infamy, but they had found a way to punish them who suffer’d thus even after their Death, by denying them (as Eustathius informs us) the Rites of Burial.
Note LX.
VERSE 864. Who first, who last, by Mars and Hector ’s Hand Stretch’d in their Blood, lay gasping on the Sand? ]
This manner of breaking out into an Interrogation, amidst the Description of a Battel, is what serves very much to awaken the Reader. It is here an Invocation to the Muse that prepares us for something uncommon; and the Muse is suppos’d immediately to answer, Teuthras the great, &c. Virgil, I think, has improved the Strength of this Figure by addressing the Apostrophe to the Person whose Exploits he is celebrating, as to Camilla in the eleventh Book.
Quem telo primum, quem postremum, aspera virgo, Dejicis? aut quot humi morientia corpora fundis?
Book VI THE SIXTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Gods having left the Field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the chief Augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the City in order to appoint a solemn Procession of the Queen and the Trojan Matrons to the Temple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the Fight. The Battel relaxing during the Absence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have an Interview between the two Armies; where coming to the Knowledge of the Friendship and Hospitality past between their Ancestors, they make exchange of their Arms. Hector having performed the Orders of Helenus, prevail’d upon Paris to return to the Battel, and taken a tender Leave of his Wife Andromache, hastens again to the Field. The Scene is first in the Field of Battel, between the Rivers Simois and Scamander, and then changes to Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-44] The battle resumes; Greeks prevail
- [45-82] Agamemnon denies mercy to Adrastus
- [83-88] Nestor’s exhortation: Kill before you plunder
- [89-124] Helenus’s counsel: A procession to appease Minerva
- [125-146] Hector rallies the Trojans and departs for Troy
- [147-178] Diomedes and Glaucus meet between the armies
- [179-260] Glaucus recounts the tale of Bellerophon
- [261-287] Diomedes discovers their ancestral guest-friendship
- [288-295] A friendly exchange of arms
- [296-303] Hector enters Troy and is met by the women
- [304-355] Hector instructs his mother Hecuba on the sacred rites
- [356-387] The Trojan women pray to Minerva, but are denied
- [388-429] Hector rebukes Paris in his chambers
- [430-449] Helen’s lament and shame before Hector
- [450-491] Hector seeks Andromache at the Scaean Gate
- [492-559] Andromache pleads with Hector not to fight
- [560-593] Hector’s reply: Duty, honour, and a vision of Troy’s fall
- [594-615] Hector’s farewell and prayer for his son, Astyanax
- [616-647] The final parting of Hector and Andromache
- [648-679] Paris rejoins Hector, and they return to battle
- [1-295] Scene: The field of battle
- [296-679] Scene: The city of Troy
NOW Heav’n forsakes the Fight: Th’Immortals yield
To human Force and human Skill, the Field:
Dark Show’rs of Javelins fly from Foes to Foes;
Now here, now there, the Tyde of Combate flows;
While Troy’s fam’d Streams that bound the deathful Plain
On either side run purple to the Main.
Great Ajax first to Conquest led the way,
Broke the thick Ranks, and turn’d the doubtful Day.
The Thracian Acamas his Faulchion found,
That hew’d th’ enormous Giant to the Ground;
His thundring Arm a deadly Stroke imprest
Where the black Horse-hair nodded o’er his Crest:
Fix’d in his Front the brazen Weapon lies,
And seals in endless Shades his swimming Eyes.
Next Teuthras’ Son distain’d the Sands with Blood,
Axylus, hospitable, rich and good:
In fair Arisba’s Walls (his native Place)
He held his Seat; a Friend to Human Race.
Fast by the Road, his ever-open Door
Oblig’d the Wealthy, and reliev’d the Poor.
To stern Tydides now he falls a Prey,
No Friend to guard him in the dreadful Day!
Breathless the good Man fell, and by his side
His faithful Servant, old Calesius dy’d.
By great Euryalus was Dresus slain,
And next he lay’d Opheltius on the Plain.
Two Twins were near, bold beautiful and young,
From a fair Naiad and Bucolion sprung:
( Laomedon’s white Flocks Bucolion fed,
That Monarch’s First-born by a foreign Bed;
In secret Woods he won the Naiad’s Grace,
And two fair Infants crown’d his strong Embrace.)
Here dead they lay in all their youthful Charms;
The ruthless Victor stripp’d their shining Arms.
Astyalus by Polypaetes fell;
Ulysses’ Spear Pidytes sent to Hell;
By Teuter’s Shaft brave Arctaon bled,
And Nestor’s Son laid stern Ablerus dead.
Great Agamemnon, Leader of the Brave,
The mortal Wound of rich Elatus gave,
Who held in Pedasus his proud Abode,
And till’d the Banks where silver Satnio flow’d.
Melanthius by Eurypylus was slain;
And Phylacus from Leitus flies in vain.
Unblest Adrastus next at Mercy lies
Beneath the Spartan Spear, a living Prize.
Scar’d with the Din and Tumult of the Fight,
His headlong Steeds, precipitate in Flight,
Rush’d on a Tamarisk’s strong Trunk, and broke
The shatter’d Chariot from the crooked Yoke:
50Wide o’er the Field, resistless as the Wind,
For Troy they fly, and leave their Lord behind.
Prone on his Face he sinks beside the Wheel;
Atrides o’er him shakes his vengeful Steel;
The fallen Chief in suppliant Posture press’d
The Victor’s Knees, and thus his Pray’r address’d.
Oh spare my Youth, and for the Life I owe
Large Gifts of Price my Father shall bestow;
When Fame shall tell, that not in Battel slain
Thy hollow Ships his Captive Son detain,
Rich Heaps of Brass shall in thy Tent be told;
And Steel well-temper’d, and persuasive Gold.
He said: Compassion touch’d the Hero’s Heart,
He stood suspended with the lifted Dart:
As Pity pleaded for his vanquish’d Prize,
Stern Agamemnon swift to Vengeance flies,
And furious, thus. Oh impotent of Mind!
Shall these, shall these Atrides’ Mercy find?
Well hast thou known proud Troy’s perfidious Land,
And well her Natives merit at thy Hand!
Not one of all the Race, not Sex, nor Age,
Shall save a Trojan from our boundless Rage:
Ilion shall perish whole, and bury All;
Her Babes, her Infants at the Breast, shall fall.
A dreadful Lesson of exampled Fate,
To warn the Nations, and to curb the Great!
The Monarch spoke: the Words with Warmth addrest
To rigid Justice steel’d his Brother’s Breast.
Fierce from his Knees the hapless Chief he thrust;
The Monarch’s Javelin stretch’d him in the Dust.
Then pressing with his Foot his panting Heart,
Forth from the slain he tugg’d the reeking Dart.
Old Nestor saw, and rowz’d the Warrior’s Rage;
Thus, Heroes! thus the vig’rous Combate wage!
No Son of Mars descend, for servile Gains,
To touch the Booty, while a Foe remains.
Behold yon’ glitt’ring Host, your future Spoil!
First gain the Conquest, then reward the Toil.
And now had Greece Eternal Fame acquir’d.
And frighted Troy within her Walls retir’d;
Had not sage Helenus her State redrest,
Taught by the Gods that mov’d his sacred Breast:
Where Hector stood, with great Aeneas join’d,
The Seer reveal’d the Counsels of his Mind.
Ye gen’rous Chiefs! on whom th’ Immortals lay
The Cares and Glories of this doubtful Day,
On whom your Aid’s, your Country’s Hopes depend,
Wise to consult, and active to defend!
Here, at our Gates, your brave Efforts unite,
Turn back the Routed, and forbid the Flight;
100E’re yet their Wives soft Arms the Cowards gain,
The Sport and Insult of the Hostile Train.
When your Commands have hearten’d ev’ry Band,
Our selves, here fix’d, will make the dang’rous Stand:
Press’d as we are, and sore of former Fight,
These Straits demand our last Remains of Might.
Meanwhile, thou Hector to the Town retire,
And teach our Mother what the Gods require:
Direct the Queen to lead th’ assembled Train
Of Troy’s chief Matrons to Minerva’s Fane;
Unbar the sacred Gates; and seek the Pow’r
With offer’d Vows, in Ilion’s topmost Tow’r.
The largest Mantle her rich Wardrobes hold,
Most priz’d for Art, and labour’d o’er with Gold,
Before the Goddess’ honour’d Knees be spread;
And twelve young Heifers to her Altars led.
If so the Pow’r, atton’d by fervent Pray’r,
Our Wives, our Infants, and our City spare,
And far avert Tydides’ wastful Ire,
That mows whole Troops, and makes all Troy retire.
Not thus Achilles taught our Hosts to dread,
Sprung tho’ he was from more than mortal Bed;
Not thus resistless rul’d the Stream of Fight,
In Rage unbounded, and unmatch’d in Might.
Hector obedient heard; and, with a Bound,
Leap’d from his trembling Chariot to the Ground;
Thro’ all his Host, inspiring Force he flies,
And bids the Thunder of the Battel rise.
With Rage recruited the bold Trojans glow;
And turn the Tyde of Conflict on the Foe:
Fierce in the Front he shakes two dazling Spears;
All Greece recedes, and ’midst her Triumph fears.
Some God, they thought, who rul’d the Fate of Wars,
Shot down avenging, from the Vault of Stars.
Then thus, aloud. Ye dauntless Dardans hear!
And you whom distant Nations send to War!
Be mindful of the Strength your Fathers bore;
Be still your selves, and Hector asks no more.
One Hour demands me in the Trojan Wall,
To bid our Altars flame, and Victims fall:
Nor shall, I trust, the Matron’s holy Train
And rev’rend Elders, seek the Gods in vain.
This said, with ample Strides the Hero past;
The Shield’s large Orb behind his Shoulder cast,
His Neck o’ershading, to his Ancle hung;
And as he march’d, the brazen Buckler rung.
Now paus’d the Battel, (Godlike Hector gone)
When daring Glaucus and great Tydeus’ Son
Between both Armies met: The Chiefs from far
Observ’d each other, and had mark’d for War.
150Near as they drew, Tydides thus began.
What art thou, boldest of the Race of Man?
Our Eyes, till now, that Aspect ne’er beheld,
Where Fame is reap’d amid th’ embattel’d Field;
Yet far before the Troops thou dar’st appear,
And meet a Lance the fiercest Heroes fear.
Unhappy they, and born of luckless Sires,
Who tempt our Fury when Minerva fires!
But if from Heav’n, Celestial thou descend;
Know, with Immortals we no more contend.
Not long Lycurgus view’d the Golden Light,
That daring Man who mix’d with Gods in Fight;
Bacchus, and Bacchus’ Votaries he drove
With brandish’d Steel from Nyssa’s sacred Grove,
Their consecrated Spears lay scatter’d round,
With curling Vines and twisted Ivy bound;
While Bacchus headlong sought the briny Flood,
And Thetis’ Arms receiv’d the trembling God.
Nor fail’d the Crime th’ Immortals Wrath to move,
(Th’ Immortals blest with endless Ease above)
Depriv’d of Sight by their avenging Doom,
Chearless he breath’d, and wander’d in the Gloom,
Then sunk unpity’d to the dire Abodes,
A Wretch accurst, and hated by the Gods!
I brave not Heav’n: But if the Fruits of Earth
Sustain thy Life, and Human be thy Birth;
Bold as thou art, too prodigal of Breath,
Approach, and enter the dark Gates of Death.
What, or from whence I am, or who my Sire,
(Reply’d the Chief) can Tydeus’ Son enquire?
Like Leaves on Trees the Race of Man is found,
Now green in Youth, now with’ring on the Ground,
Another Race the following Spring supplies,
They fall successive, and successive rise;
So Generations in their Course decay,
So flourish these, when those are past away.
But if thou still persist to search my Birth,
Then hear a Tale that fills the spacious Earth.
A City stands on Argos’ utmost Bound,
( Argos the fair for warlike Steeds renown’d)
Aeolian Sysiphus, with Wisdom blest,
In ancient Time the happy Walls possest,
Then call’d Ephyre: Glaucus was his Son;
Great Glaucus Father of Bellerophon,
Who o’er the Sons of Men in Beauty shin’d,
Lov’d for that Valour which preserves Mankind.
Then mighty Praetus Argos’ Sceptres sway’d,
Whose hard Commands Bellerophon obey’d.
With direful Jealousy the Monarch rag’d,
And the brave Prince in num’rous Toils engag’d.
200For him, Antaea burn’d with lawless Flame,
And strove to tempt him from the Paths of Fame:
In vain she tempted the relentless Youth,
Endu’d with Wisdom, sacred Fear, and Truth.
Fir’d at his Scorn the Queen to Praetus fled,
And beg’d Revenge for her insulted Bed:
Incens’d he heard, resolving on his Fate;
But Hospitable Laws restrain’d his Hate:
To Lycia the devoted Youth he sent,
With Tablets seal’d, that told his dire Intent.
Now blest by ev’ry Pow’r who guards the Good,
The Chief arriv’d at Xanthus’ silver Flood:
There Lycia’s Monarch paid him Honours due;
Nine Days he feasted, and nine Bulls he slew.
But when the tenth bright Morning Orient glow’d,
The faithful Youth his Monarch’s Mandate show’d:
The fatal Tablets, till that Instant seal’d,
The deathful Secret to the King reveal’d.
First, dire Chymaera’s Conquest was enjoin’d;
A mingled Monster, of no mortal Kind;
Behind, a Dragon’s fiery Tail was spread;
A Goat’s rough Body bore a Lion’s Head;
Her pitchy Nostrils flaky Flames expire;
Her gaping Throat emits infernal Fire.
This Pest he slaughter’d (for he read the Skies,
And trusted Heav’ns informing Prodigies)
Then met in Arms the Solymaean Crew,
(Fiercest of Men) and those the Warrior slew.
Next the bold Amazon’s whole Force defy’d;
And conquer’d still, for Heav’n was on his side.
Nor ended here his Toils: His Lycian Foes
At his Return, a treach’rous Ambush, rose,
With levell’d Spears along the winding Shore;
There fell they breathless, and return’d no more.
At length the Monarch with repentant Grief
Confess’d the Gods, and God-descended Chief;
His Daughter gave, the Stranger to detain,
With half the Honours of his ample Reign.
The Lycians grant a chosen Space of Ground,
With Woods, with Vineyards, and with Harvests crown’d.
There long the Chief his happy Lot possess’d,
With two brave Sons and one fair Daughter bless’d;
(Fair ev’n in heav’nly Eyes; her fruitful Love
Crown’d with Sarpedon’s Birth th’ Embrace of Jove )
But when at last, distracted in his Mind,
Forsook by Heav’n, forsaking Human-kind,
Wide o’er th’ Aleian Field he chose to stray,
A long, forlorn, uncomfortable Way!
Woes heap’d on Woes oppress’d his wasted Heart;
His beauteous Daughter fell by Phoebè’s Dart;
250His Eldest-born by raging Mars was slain,
In Combate on the Solymaean Plain.
Hippolochus surviv’d; from him I came,
The honour’d Author of my Birth and Name;
By his Decree I sought the Trojan Town,
By his Instructions learn to win Renown,
To stand the first in Worth as in Command,
To add new Honours to my native Land,
Before my Eyes my mighty Sires to place,
And emulate the Glories of our Race.
He spoke, and Transport fill’d Tydides’ Heart;
In Earth the gen’rous Warrior fix’d his Dart,
Then friendly, thus, the Lycian Prince addrest.
Welcome, my brave Hereditary Guest!
Thus ever let us meet, with kind Embrace,
Nor stain the sacred Friendship of our Race.
Know, Chief, our Grandsires have been Guests of old;
Oeneus the strong, Bellerophon the bold:
Our ancient Seat his honour’d Presence grac’d,
Where twenty Days in Genial Rites he pass’d.
The parting Heroes mutual Presents left;
A golden Goblet was thy Grandsire’s Gift;
Oeneus a Belt of matchless Work bestow’d,
That rich with Tyrian Dye refulgent glow’d.
(This from his Pledge I learn’d, which safely stor’d
Among my Treasures, still adorns my Board:
For Tydeus left me young, when Thebè’s Wall
Beheld the Sons of Greece untimely fall.)
Mindful of this, in Friendship let us join;
If Heav’n our Steps to foreign Lands incline,
My Guest in Argos thou, and I in Lycia thine.
Enough of Trojans to this Lance shall yield,
In the full Harvest of yon’ ample Field;
Enough of Greeks shall die thy Spear with Gore;
But Thou and Diomed be Foes no more.
Now change we Arms, and prove to either Host
We guard the Friendship of the Line we boast.
Thus having said, the gallant Chiefs alight,
Their Hands they join, their mutual Faith they plight,
Brave Glaucus then each narrow Thought resign’d,
( Jove warm’d his Bosom and enlarg’d his Mind)
For Diomed’s Brass Arms, of mean Device,
For which nine Oxen paid (a vulgar Price)
He gave his own, of Gold divinely wrought,
A hundred Beeves the shining Purchase bought.
Meantime the Guardian of the Trojan State,
Great Hector enter’d at the Scaean Gate.
Beneath the Beech-Tree’s consecrated Shades,
The Trojan Matrons and the Trojan Maids
Around him flock’d, all press’d with pious Care
300For Husbands, Brothers, Sons, engag’d in War.
He bids the Train in long Procession go,
And seek the Gods, t’ avert th’ impending Woe.
And now to Priam’s stately Courts he came,
Rais’d on arch’d Columns of stupendous Frame;
O’er these a Range of Marble Structure runs,
The rich Pavillions of his fifty Sons,
In fifty Chambers lodg’d; and Rooms of State
Oppos’d to those, where Priam’s Daughters sate:
Twelve Domes for them and their lov’d Spouses shone,
Of equal Beauty, and of polish’d Stone.
Hither great Hector pass’d, nor pass’d unseen
Of Royal Hecuba, his Mother Queen.
(With her Laodicè, whose beauteous Face
Surpass’d the Nymphs of Troy’s illustrious Race)
Long in a strict Embrace she held her Son,
And press’d his Hand, and tender thus begun.
O Hector! say, what great Occasion calls
My Son from Fight, when Greece surrounds our Walls?
Com’st thou to supplicate th’ Almighty Pow’r,
With lifted Hands from Ilion’s lofty Tow’r?
Stay, till I bring the Cup with Bacchus crown’d,
In Jove’s high Name to sprinkle on the Ground,
And pay due Vows to all the Gods around.
Then with a plenteous Draught refresh thy Soul,
And draw new Spirits from the gen’rous Bowl;
Spent as thou art with long laborious Fight,
The brave Defender of thy Country’s Right.
Far hence be Bacchus’ Gifts (the Chief rejoin’d)
Inflaming Wine, pernicious to Mankind,
Unnerves the Limbs, and dulls the noble Mind.
Let Chiefs abstain, and spare the sacred Juice
To sprinkle to the Gods, its better Use.
By me that holy Office were prophan’d;
Ill fits it me, with human Gore distain’d,
To the pure Skies these horrid Hands to raise,
Or offer Heav’n’s great Sire polluted Praise.
You, with your Matrons, go! a spotless Train,
And burn rich Odors in Minerva’s Fane.
The largest Mantle your full Wardrobes hold,
Most priz’d for Art, and labour’d o’er with Gold,
Before the Goddess’ honour’d Knees be spread,
And twelve young Heifers to her Altar led.
So may the Pow’r, atton’d by fervent Pray’r,
Our Wives, our Infants, and our City spare,
And far avert Tydides’ wastful Ire,
Who mows whole Troops and makes all Troy retire.
Be this, O Mother, your religious Care;
I go to rowze soft Paris to the War;
If yet not lost to all the Sense of Shame,
350The recreant Warrior hear the Voice of Fame.
Oh would kind Earth the hateful Wretch embrace,
That Pest of Troy, that Ruin of our Race!
Deep to the dark Abyss might he descend,
Troy yet should flourish, and my Sorrows end.
This heard, she gave Command; and summon’d came
Each noble Matron, and illustrious Dame.
The Phrygian Queen to her rich Wardrobe went,
Where treasur’d Odors breath’d a costly Scent.
There lay the Vestures, of no vulgar Art,
Sidonian Maids embroider’d ev’ry Part,
Whom from soft Sidon youthful Paris bore,
With Helen touching on the Tyrian Shore.
Here as the Queen revolv’d with careful Eyes
The various Textures and the various Dies,
She chose a Veil that shone superior far,
And glow’d refulgent as the Morning Star.
Herself with this the long Procession leads;
The Train majestically slow proceeds.
Soon as to Ilion’s topmost Tow’r they come,
And awful reach the high Palladian Dome,
Antenor’s Consort, fair Theano, waits
As Pallas’ Priestess, and unbars the Gates.
With Hands uplifted and imploring Eyes,
They fill the Dome with supplicating Cries.
The Priestess then the shining Veil displays,
Plac’d on Minerva’s Knees, and thus she prays.
Oh awful Goddess! ever-dreadful Maid,
Troy’s strong Defence, unconquer’d Pallas, aid!
Break thou Tydides’ Spear, and let him fall
Prone on the Dust before the Trojan Wall.
So twelve young Heifers, guiltless of the Yoke,
Shall fill thy Temple with a grateful Smoke.
But thou, atton’d by Penitence and Pray’r,
Our selves, our Infants, and our City spare!
So pray’d the Priestess in her holy Fane;
So vow’d the Matrons, but they vow’d in vain.
While these appear before the Pow’r with Pray’rs,
Hector to Paris’ lofty Dome repairs.
Himself the Mansion rais’d, from ev’ry Part
Assembling Architects of matchless Art.
Near Priam’s Court and Hector’s Palace stands
The pompous Structure, and the Town commands.
A Spear the Hero bore of wondrous Strength,
Of full ten Cubits was the Lance’s Length,
The steely Point with golden Ringlets join’d,
Before him brandish’d, at each Motion shin’d.
Thus entring in the glitt’ring Rooms, he found
His Brother-Chief, whose useless Arms lay round,
His Eyes delighting with their splendid Show,
400Bright’ning the Shield, and polishing the Bow.
Beside him, Helen with her Virgins stands,
Guides their rich Labours, and instructs their Hands.
Him thus unactive, with an ardent Look
The Prince beheld, and high-resenting spoke.
Thy Hate to Troy, is this the Time to show?
(Oh Wretch ill-fated, and thy Country’s Foe!)
Paris and Greece against us both conspire;
Thy close Resentment, and their vengeful Ire.
For thee great Ilion’s Guardian Heroes fall,
Till Heaps of Dead alone defend her Wall;
For thee the Soldier bleeds, the Matron mourns,
And wastful War in all its Fury burns.
Ungrateful Man! deserves not this thy Care,
Our Troops to hearten, and our Toils to share?
Rise, or behold the conqu’ring Flames ascend,
And all the Phrygian Glories at an end.
Brother, ’tis just (reply’d the beauteous Youth)
Thy free Remonstrance proves thy Worth and Truth:
Yet charge my Absence less, oh gen’rous Chief!
On Hate to Troy, than conscious Shame and Grief:
Here, hid from human Eyes, thy Brother sate,
And mourn’d in secret, his, and Ilion’s Fate.
’Tis now enough: now Glory spreads her Charms,
And beauteous Helen calls her Chief to Arms.
Conquest to Day my happier Sword may bless,
’Tis Man’s to fight, but Heav’ns to give Success.
But while I arm, contain thy ardent Mind;
Or go, and Paris shall not lag behind.
He said, nor answer’d Priam’s warlike Son;
When Helen thus with lowly Grace begun.
Oh gen’rous Brother! if the guilty Dame
That caus’d these Woes, deserve a Sister’s Name!
Would Heav’n, e’re all these dreadful Deeds were done,
The Day, that show’d me to the golden Sun,
Had seen my Death! Why did not Whirlwinds bear
The fatal Infant to the Fowls of Air?
Why sunk I not beneath the whelming Tyde,
And ’midst the Roarings of the Waters dy’d?
Heav’n fill’d up all my Ills, and I accurst
Bore all, and Paris of those Ills the worst.
Helen at least a braver Spouse might claim,
Warm’d with some Virtue, some Regard of Fame!
Now tir’d with Toils, thy fainting Limbs recline,
With Toils, sustain’d for Paris’ sake and mine:
The Gods have link’d our miserable Doom,
Our present Woe, and Infamy to come:
Wide shall it spread, and last thro’ Ages long,
Example sad! and Theme of future Song.
The Chief reply’d: This Time forbids to rest:
450The Trojan Bands by hostile Fury prest.
Demand their Hector, and his Arm require;
The Combate urges, and my Soul’s on fire.
Urge thou thy Knight to march where Glory calls,
And timely join me, e’re I leave the Walls.
E’re yet I mingle in the direful Fray,
My Wife, my Infant, claim a Moment’s Stay;
This Day (perhaps the last that sees me here)
Demands a parting Word, a tender Tear:
This Day, some God who hates our Trojan Land
May vanquish Hector by a Grecian Hand.
He said, and past with sad presaging Heart
To seek his Spouse, his Soul’s far dearer Part;
At home he sought her, but he sought in vain;
She, with one Maid of all her Menial Train,
Had thence retir’d; and with her second Joy,
The young Astyanax, the Hope of Troy.
Pensive she stood on Ilion’s Tow’ry Height,
Beheld the War, and sicken’d at the Sight;
There her sad Eyes in vain her Lord explore,
Or weep the Wounds her bleeding Country bore.
But he who found not whom his Soul desir’d,
Whose Virtue charm’d him as her Beauty fir’d,
Stood in the Gates, and ask’d what way she bent
Her parting Step? If to the Fane she went,
Where late the mourning Matrons made Resort;
Or sought her Sisters in the Trojan Court?
Not to the Court (reply’d th’ Attendant Train)
Nor mix’d with Matrons to Minerva’s Fane:
To Ilion’s steepy Tow’r she bent her way,
To mark the Fortunes of the doubtful Day.
Troy fled, she heard, before the Grecian Sword;
She heard, and trembled for her absent Lord:
Distracted with Surprize, she seem’d to fly,
Fear on her Cheek, and Sorrow in her Eye.
The Nurse attended with her Infant Boy,
The young Astyanax, the Hope of Troy.
Hector, this heard, return’d without Delay;
Swift thro’ the Town he trod his former way,
Thro’ Streets of Palaces and Walks of State;
And met the Mourner at the Scaean Gate.
With haste to meet him sprung the joyful Fair,
His blameless Wife, Aëtion’s wealthy Heir:
( Cilician Thebè great Aëtion sway’d,
And Hippoplacus’ wide-extended Shade)
The Nurse stood near, in whose Embraces prest
His only Hope hung smiling at her Breast,
Whom each soft Charm and early Grace adorn,
Fair as the new-born Star that gilds the Morn.
To this lov’d Infant Hector gave the Name
500Scamandrius, from Scamander’s honour’d Stream;
Astyanax the Trojans call’d the Boy,
From his great Father, the Defence of Troy.
Silent the Warrior smil’d, and pleas’d resign’d
To tender Passions all his mighty Mind:
His beauteous Princess cast a mournful Look,
Hung on his Hand, and then dejected spoke;
Her Bosom labour’d with a boding Sigh,
And the big Tear stood trembling in her Eye.
Too daring Prince! ah whither dost thou run?
Ah too forgetful of thy Wife and Son!
And think’st thou not how wretched we shall be,
A Widow I, an helpless Orphan He!
For sure such Courage Length of Life denies,
And thou must fall, thy Virtue’s Sacrifice.
Greece in her single Heroes strove in vain;
Now Hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain!
Oh grant me Gods! e’re Hector meets his Doom,
All I can ask of Heav’n, an early Tomb!
So shall my Days in one sad Tenor run,
And end with Sorrows as they first begun.
No Parent now remains, my Griefs to share,
No Father’s Aid, no Mother’s tender Care.
The fierce Achilles wrapt our Walls in Fire,
Lay’d Thebè waste, and slew my warlike Sire!
His Fate Compassion in the Victor bred;
Stern as he was, he yet rever’d the Dead,
His radiant Arms preserv’d from hostile Spoil,
And lay’d him decent on the Fun’ral Pyle;
Then rais’d a Mountain where his Bones were burn’d,
The Mountain Nymphs the rural Tomb adorn’d,
Jove’s Sylvan Daughters bade their Elms bestow
A barren Shade, and in his Honour grow.
By the same Arm my sev’n brave Brothers fell,
In one sad Day beheld the Gates of Hell;
While the fat Herds and snowie Flocks they fed,
Amid their Fields the hapless Heroes bled!
My Mother liv’d to bear the Victor’s Bands,
The Queen of Hippoplacia’s Sylvan Lands:
Redeem’d too late, she scarce beheld again
Her pleasing Empire and her native Plain,
When ah! opprest by Life-consuming Woe,
She fell a Victim to Diana’s Bow.
Yet while my Hector still survives, I see
My Father, Mother, Brethren, all, in thee.
Alas! my Parents, Brothers, Kindred, all,
Once more will perish if my Hector fall.
Thy Wife, thy Infant, in thy Danger share:
Oh prove a Husband’s and a Father’s Care!
That Quarter most the skillful Greeks annoy,
550Where yon’ wild Fig-Trees join the Wall of Troy:
Thou, from this Tow’r defend th’ important Post;
There Agamemnon points his dreadful Host,
That Pass Tydides, Ajax strive to gain,
And there the vengeful Spartan fires his Train.
Thrice our bold Foes the fierce Attack have giv’n,
Or led by Hopes, or dictated from Heav’n.
Let others in the Field their Arms employ,
But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy.
The Chief reply’d: That Post shall be my Care,
Nor that alone, but all the Works of War.
How would the Sons of Troy, in Arms renown’d,
And Troy’s proud Dames whose Garments sweep the Ground,
Attaint the Lustre of my former Name,
Should Hector basely quit the Field of Fame?
My early Youth was bred to martial Pains,
My Soul impells me to th’ embattel’d Plains;
Let me be foremost to defend the Throne,
And guard my Father’s Glories, and my own.
Yet come it will, the Day decreed by Fates;
(How my Heart trembles while my Tongue relates!)
The Day when thou, Imperial Troy! must bend,
And see thy Warriors fall, thy Glories end.
And yet no dire Prefage so wounds my Mind,
My Mother’s Death, the Ruin of my Kind,
Not Priam’s hoary Hairs defil’d with Gore,
Not all my Brothers gasping on the Shore;
As thine, Andromache! thy Griefs I dread;
I see thee trembling, weeping, Captive led!
In Argive Looms our Battels to design,
And Woes, of which so large a Part was thine!
To bear the Victor’s hard Commands, or bring
The Weight of Waters from Hyperia’s Spring.
There, while you groan beneath the Load of Life,
They cry, Behold the mighty Hector’s Wife!
Some haughty Greek who lives thy Tears to see,
Embitters all thy Woes, by naming me.
The Thoughts of Glory past, and present Shame,
A thousand Griefs shall waken at the Name!
May I lie cold before that dreadful Day,
Press’d with a Load of Monumental Clay!
Thy Hector wrapt in everlasting Sleep,
Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep.
Thus having spoke, th’ illustrious Chief of Troy
Stretch’d his fond Arms to clasp the lovely Boy.
The Babe clung crying to his Nurse’s Breast,
Scar’d at the dazling Helm, and nodding Crest.
With secret Pleasure each fond Parent smil’d,
And Hector hasted to relieve his Child,
The glitt’ring Terrors from his Brows unbound,
600And plac’d the beaming Helmet on the Ground.
Then kist the Child, and lifting high in Air,
Thus to the Gods prefer’d a Father’s Pray’r.
O Thou! whose Glory fills th’ Aetherial Throne,
And all ye deathless Pow’rs! protect my Son!
Grant him, like me, to purchase just Renown,
To guard the Trojans, to defend the Crown,
Against his Country’s Foes the War to wage,
And rise the Hector of the future Age!
So when triumphant from successful Toils,
Of Heroes slain he bears the reeking Spoils,
Whole Hosts may hail him with deserv’d Acclaim,
And say, This Chief transcends his Father’s Fame:
While pleas’d amidst the gen’ral Shouts of Troy,
His Mother’s conscious Heart o’erflows with Joy.
He spoke, and fondly gazing on her Charms
Restor’d the pleasing Burden to her Arms;
Soft on her fragrant Breast the Babe she laid,
Hush’d to Repose, and with a Smile survey’d.
The troubled Pleasure soon chastis’d by Fear,
She mingled with the Smile a tender Tear.
The soften’d Chief with kind Compassion view’d,
And dry’d the falling Drops, and thus pursu’d.
Andromache! my Soul’s far better Part,
Why with untimely Sorrows heaves thy Heart?
No hostile Hand can antedate my Doom,
Till Fate condemns me to the silent Tomb.
Fix’d is the Term to all the Race of Earth,
And such the hard Condition of our Birth.
No Force can then resist, no Flight can save,
All sink alike, the Fearful and the Brave.
No more—but hasten to thy Tasks at home,
There guide the Spindle, and direct the Loom:
Me Glory summons to the martial Scene,
The Field of Combate is the Sphere for Men.
Where Heroes war, the foremost Place I claim,
The first in Danger as the first in Fame.
Thus having said, the glorious Chief resumes
His Tow’ry Helmet, black with shading Plumes.
His Princess parts with a prophetick Sigh,
Unwilling parts, and oft’ reverts her Eye
That stream’d at ev’ry Look: then, moving slow,
Sought her own Palace, and indulg’d her Woe.
There, while her Tears deplor’d the Godlike Man,
Thro’ all her Train the soft Infection ran,
The pious Maids their mingled Sorrows shed,
And mourn the living Hector, as the dead.
But now, no longer deaf to Honour’s Call,
Forth issues Paris from the Palace Wall.
In Brazen Arms that cast a gleamy Ray,
650Swift thro’ the Town the Warrior bends his way.
The wanton Courser thus, with Reins unbound,
Breaks from his Stall, and beats the trembling Ground;
Pamper’d and proud, he seeks the wonted Tides,
And laves, in Height of Blood, his shining Sides;
His Head now freed, he tosses to the Skies;
His Mane dishevel’d o’er his Shoulders flies;
He snuffs the Females in the distant Plain,
And springs, exulting, to his Fields again.
With equal Triumph, sprightly, bold and gay,
In Arms refulgent as the God of Day,
The Son of Priam, glorying in his Might,
Rush’d forth with Hector to the Fields of Fight.
And now the Warriors passing on the way,
The graceful Paris first excus’d his Stay.
To whom the noble Hector thus reply’d:
O Chief! in Blood, and now in Arms, ally’d!
Thy Pow’r in War with Justice none contest;
Known is thy Courage, and thy Strength confest.
What Pity, Sloath should seize a Soul so brave,
Or Godlike Paris live a Woman’s Slave!
My Heart weeps Blood at what the Trojans say,
And hopes, thy Deeds shall wipe the Stain away.
Haste then, in all their glorious Labours share;
For much they suffer, for thy sake, in War.
These Ills shall cease, whene’er by Jove’s Decree
We crown the Bowl to Heav’n and Liberty:
While the proud Foe his frustrate Triumphs mourns,
And Greece indignant thro’ her Seas returns.
Observations on the 6th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
Note I.
VERSE 7. FIRST Ajax.]
Ajax performs his Exploits immediately upon the Departure of the Gods from the Battel. It is observ’d that this Hero is never assisted by the Deities, as most of the rest are: See his Character in the Notes on the seventh Book. The Expression of the Greek is, that he brought Light to his Troops, which M. Dacier takes to be metaphorical: I do not see but it may be literal; he broke the thick Squadrons of the Enemy, and open’d a Passage for the Light.
Note II.
VERSE 9. The Thracian Acamas. ]
This Thracian Prince is the same in whose Likeness Mars appears in the preceding Book, rallying the Trojans and forcing the Greeks to retire. In the present Description of his Strength and Size, we see with what Propriety this Personage was selected by the Poet as fit to be assumed by the God of War.
Note III.
VERSE 16. Axylus, Hospitable. ]
This beautiful Character of Axylus has not been able to escape the Misunderstanding of some of the Commentators, who thought Homer design’d it as a Reproof of an undistinguish’d Generosity. It is evidently a Panegyrick on that Virtue, and not improbably on the Memory of some excellent, but unfortunate Man in that Country, whom the Poet honours with the noble Title of A Friend to Mankind. It is indeed a severe Reproof of the Ingratitude of Men, and a kind of Satyr on human Race, while he represents this Lover of his Species miserably perishing without Assistance from any of those Numbers he had obliged. This Death is very moving, and the Circumstance of a faithful Servant’s dying by his side, well imagined, and natural to such a Character. His manner of keeping House near a frequented Highway, and relieving all Travellers, is agreeable to that ancient Hospitality which we now only read of. There is Abundance of this Spirit every where in the Odysseis. The Patriarchs in the Old Testament sit at their Gates to see those who pass by, and entreat them to enter into their Houses: This cordial manner of Invitation is particularly described in the 18 th and 19 th Chapters of Genesis. The Eastern Nations seem to have had a peculiar Disposition to these Exercises of Humanity, which continues in a great measure to this Day. It is yet a Piece of Charity frequent with the Turks, to erect Caravanserahs, or Inns for the Reception of Travellers. Since I am upon this Head, I must mention one or two extraordinary Examples of ancient Hospitality. Diodorus Siculus writes of Gallias of Agrigentum, that having built severall Inns for the Relief of Strangers, he appointed Persons at the Gates to invite all who travell’d to make use of them; and that this Example was followed by many others who were inclined after the ancient manner to live in a human and beneficent Correspondence with Mankind. That this Gallias entertain’d and cloathed at one time no less than five hundred Horsemen; and that there were in his Cellars three hundred Vessels, each of which contain’d an hundred Hogsheads of Wine. The same Author tells us of another Agrigentine, that at the Marriage of his Daughter feasted all the People of his City, who at that time were above twenty thousand.
Herodotus in his seventh Book has a Story of this kind, which is prodigious, being of a private Man so immensely rich as to entertain Xerxes and his whole Army. I shall transcribe the Passage as I find it translated to my Hands.
" Pythius the Son of Atys, a Lydian, then residing in Celaene, entertain’d the King and all his Army with great Magnificence, and offer’d him his Treasures towards the Expence of the War: which Liberality Xerxes communicating to the Persians about him, and asking who this Pythius was, and what Riches he might have to enable him to make such an Offer? Receiv’d this Answer; Pythius, said they, is the Person who presented your Father Darius with a Plane-Tree and Vine of Gold: and after you, is the richest Man we know in the World. Xerxes surpriz’d with these last Words, ask’d him to what Sum his Treasures might amount. I shall conceal nothing from you, said Pythius; nor pretend to be ignorant of my own Wealth; but being perfectly inform’d of the State of my Accompts, shall tell you the Truth with Sincerity. When I heard you was ready to begin the March towards the Grecian Sea, I resolv’d to present you with a Sum of Money towards the Charge of the War; and to that end having taken an Account of my Riches, I found by Computation that I had two thousand Talents of Silver, and three Millions nine hundred ninety three thousand Pieces of Gold, bearing the Stamp of Darius. These Treasures I freely give you, because I shall be sufficiently furnish’d with whatever is necessary to Life by the Labour of my Servants and Husbandmen. " Xerxes heard these Words with Pleasure, and in answer to Pythius, said; My Lydian Host, since I parted from Susa I have not found a Man besides your self, who has offer’d to entertain my Army, or voluntarily to contribute his Treasures to promote the present Expedition. You alone have treated my Army magnificently, and readily offer’d me immense Riches: Therefore, in Return of your Kindness, I make you my Host; and that you may be Master of the intire Sum of four Millions in Gold, I will give you seven thousand Darian Pieces out of my own Treasure. Keep then all the Riches you now possess; and
" Pythius the Son of Atys, a Lydian, then residing in Celaene, entertain’d the King and all his Army with great Magnificence, and offer’d him his Treasures towards the Expence of the War: which Liberality Xerxes communicating to the Persians about him, and asking who this Pythius was, and what Riches he might have to enable him to make such an Offer? Receiv’d this Answer; Pythius, said they, is the Person who presented your Father Darius with a Plane-Tree and Vine of Gold: and after you, is the richest Man we know in the World. Xerxes surpriz’d with these last Words, ask’d him to what Sum his Treasures might amount. I shall conceal nothing from you, said Pythius; nor pretend to be ignorant of my own Wealth; but being perfectly inform’d of the State of my Accompts, shall tell you the Truth with Sincerity. When I heard you was ready to begin the March towards the Grecian Sea, I resolv’d to present you with a Sum of Money towards the Charge of the War; and to that end having taken an Account of my Riches, I found by Computation that I had two thousand Talents of Silver, and three Millions nine hundred ninety three thousand Pieces of Gold, bearing the Stamp of Darius. These Treasures I freely give you, because I shall be sufficiently furnish’d with whatever is necessary to Life by the Labour of my Servants and Husbandmen.
" Xerxes heard these Words with Pleasure, and in answer to Pythius, said; My Lydian Host, since I parted from Susa I have not found a Man besides your self, who has offer’d to entertain my Army, or voluntarily to contribute his Treasures to promote the present Expedition. You alone have treated my Army magnificently, and readily offer’d me immense Riches: Therefore, in Return of your Kindness, I make you my Host; and that you may be Master of the intire Sum of four Millions in Gold, I will give you seven thousand Darian Pieces out of my own Treasure. Keep then all the Riches you now possess; and
if you know how to continue always in the same good Disposition, you shall never have reason to repent of your Affection to me, either now or in future time.
if you know how to continue always in the same good Disposition, you shall never have reason to repent of your Affection to me, either now or in future time.
The Sum here offer’d by Pythius amounts by Brerewood’s Computation to three Millions three hundred seventy five thousand Pounds Sterling, according to the lesser Valuation of Talents. I make no Apology for inserting so remarkable a Passage at length, but shall only add, that it was at last the Fate of this Pythius (like our Axylus ) to experience the Ingratitude of Man; his eldest Son being afterwards cut in Pieces by the same Xerxes.
Note IV.
VERSE 57. Oh spare my Youth, &c.]
This Passage, where Agamemnon takes away that Trojan’s Life whom Menelaus had pardoned, and is not blamed by Homer for so doing, must be ascribed to the uncivilized Manners of those Times, when Mankind was not united by the Bonds of a rational Society, and is not therefore to be imputed to the Poet, who followed Nature as it was in his Days. The Historical Books of the Old Testament abound in Instances of the like Cruelty to conquer’d Enemies.
Virgil had this Part of Homer in his View when he described the Death of Magus in the tenth Aeneid. Those Lines of his Prayer where he offers a Ransome are translated from this of Adrastus, but both the Prayer and the Answer Aeneas makes when he refuses him Mercy, are very much heighten’d and improved. They also receive a great Addition of Beauty and Propriety from the Occasion on which he inserts them: Young Pallas is just kill’d, and Aeneas seeking to be reveng’d upon Turnus, meets this Magus. Nothing can be a more artful Piece of Address than the first Lines of that Supplication, if we consider the Character of Aeneas to whom it is made.
Per patrios manes, per spes surgentis Jüli, Te precor, hanc animam serves natoque, Patrique!
And what can exceed the Closeness and Fullness of that Reply to it?
—Belli commercia Turnus Sustulit ista prior, jam tum Pallante perempto. Hoc patris Anchisae manes, hoc sentit Jülus.
This removes the Imputation of Cruelty from Aeneas, which had less agreed with his Character than it does with Agamemnon’s; whose Reproof to Menelaus in this Place is not unlike that of Samuel to Saul for not killing Agag.
Note V.
VERSE 74. Her Infants at the Breast shall fall. ]
Or, her Infants yet in the Womb, for it will bear either Sense. But I think Madam Dacier in the right, in her Affirmation that the Greeks were not arrived to that Pitch of Cruelty to rip up the Wombs of Women with Child. Homer (says she) to remove all equivocal Meaning from this Phrase, adds the Words [Greek]juvenem puerulum existentem, which would be ridiculous were it said of a Child yet unborn. Besides, he would never have represented one of his first Heroes capable of so barbarous a Crime, or at least would not have commended him (as he does just after) for such a wicked Exhortation.
Note VI.
VERSE 88. First gain the Conquest, then divide the Spoil. ]
This important Maxim of War is very naturally introduced, upon Nestor’s having seen Menelaus ready to spare an Enemy for the sake of a Ransome. It was for such Lessons as these (says M. Dacier ) that Alexander so much esteem’d Homer and study’d his Poem. He made his Use of this Precept in the Battel of Arbela, when Parmenio being in danger of weakening the main Body to defend the Baggage, he sent this Message to him. Leave the Baggage there, for if we carry the Victory, we shall not only recover what is our own, but be Masters of all that is the Enemy’s. Histories ancient and modern are fill’d with Examples of Enterprizes that have miscarry’d, and Battels that have been lost, by the Greediness of Soldiers for Pillage.
Note VII.
VERSE 98. Wise to consult, and active to defend. ]
This is a twofold Branch of Praise, expressing the Excellence of these Princes both in Council and in Battel. I think Madam Dacier’s Translation does not come up to the Sense of the Original. Les plus hardis & les plus experimentez des nos Capitains.
Note VIII.
VERSE 107. Thou Hector to the Town. ]
It has been a modern Objection to Homer’s Conduct, that Hector upon whom the whole Fate of the Day depended, is made to retire from the Battel, only to carry a Message to Troy concerning a Sacrifice, which might have been done as well by any other. They think it absurd in Helenus to advise this, and in Hector to comply with it. What occasion’d this false Criticism was that they imagin’d it to be a Piece of Advice, and not a Command. Helenus was a Priest and Augur of the highest Rank, he enjoins it as a Point of Religion, and Hector obeys him as one inspired from Heaven. The Trojan Army was in the utmost Distress, occasion’d by the prodigious Slaughter made by Diomed: There was therefore more Reason and Necessity to propitiate Minerva who assisted that Hero; which Helenus might know, tho’ Hector would have chosen to have stay’d and trusted to the Arm of Flesh. Here is nothing but what may agree with each of their Characters. Hector goes as he was obliged in Religion, but not before he has animated the Troops, re-established the Combate, repulsed the Greeks to some distance, received a Promise from Helenus that they would make a stand at the Gates, and given one himself to the Army that he would soon return to the Fight: All which Homer has been careful to specify, to save the Honour and preserve the Character of this Hero. As to Helenus his Part, he saw the Straits his Countrymen were reduced to, he knew his Authority as a Priest, and design’d to revive the Courage of the Troops by a Promise of divine Assistance. Nothing adds more Courage to the Minds of Men than Superstition, and perhaps it was the only Expedient then left; much like a modern Practice in the Army, to enjoin a Fast when they wanted Provision. Helenus could no way have made his Promise more credible, than by sending away Hector; which look’d like an Assurance that nothing could prejudice them during his Absence on such a religious Account. No Leader of less Authority than Hector could so properly have enjoin’d this solemn Act of Religion; and lastly, no other whose Valour was less known than his, could have left the Army in this Juncture without a Taint upon his Honour. Homer makes this Piety succeed; Paris is brought back to the Fight, the Trojans afterwards prevail, and Jupiter appears openly in their favour, l. 8. Tho’ after all, I cannot dissemble my Opinion, that the Poet’s chief Intention in this, was to introduce that fine Episode of the Parting of Hector and Andromache. This Change of the Scene to Troy furnishes him with a great Number of Beauties. By this means (says Eustathius ) his Poem is for a time divested of the Fierceness and Violence of Battels, and being as it were wash’d from Slaughter and Blood, becomes calm and smiling by the Beauty of these various Episodes.
Note IX.
VERSE 117. If so the Pow’r atton’d. ]
The Poet here plainly supposes Helenus, by his Skill in Augury or some other divine Inspiration, well inform’d that the Might of Diomed which wrought such great Destruction among the Trojans, was the Gift of Pallas incens’d against them. The Prophet therefore directs Prayers, Offerings, and Sacrifices to be made to appease the Anger of this offended Goddess; not to invoke the Mercy of any propitious Deity. This is conformable to the whole System of Pagan Superstition, the Worship whereof being grounded not on Love but Fear, seems directed rather to avert the Malice and Anger of a wrathful and mischievous Daemon, than to implore the Assistance and Protection of a benevolent Being. In this Strain of Religion this same Prophet is introduced by Virgil in the third Aeneid, giving particular Direction to Aeneas to appease the Indignation of Juno, as the only means which could bring his Labours to a prosperous End.
Unum illud tibi, nate Dea, praeque omnibus unum Praedicam, & repetens iterumque iterumque monebo. Junonis magnae primum prece numen adora: Junoni cane vota libens, dominamque potentem Supplicibus supera donis:—
Note X.
VERSE 147. The Interview of Glaucus and Diomed.]
No Passage in our Author has been the Subject of more severe and groundless Criticisms than this, where these two Heroes enter into a long Conversation (as they will have it) in the Heat of a Battel. Monsieur Dacier’s Answer in Defence of Homer is so full, that I cannot do better than to translate it from his Remarks on the 26 th Chapter of Aristotle’s Poetic. There can be nothing more unjust than the Criticisms past upon things that are the Effect of Custom. It was usual in ancient Times for Soldiers to talk together before they encounter’d. Homer is full of Examples of this sort, and he very well deserves we should be so just as to believe, he had never done it so often, but that it was agreeable to the Manners of his Age. But this is not only a thing of Custom, but founded in Reason itself. The Ties of Hospitality in those Times were held more sacred than those of Blood; and it is on that Account Diomed gives so long an Audience to Glaucus, whom he acknowledges to be his Guest, with whom it was not lawful to engage in Combate. Homer makes an admirable Use of this Conjuncture, to introduce an entertaining History after so many Battels as he has been describing, and to unbend the Mind of his Reader by a Recital of so much Variety as the Story of the Family of Sisyphus. It may be farther observ’d, with what Address and Management he places this long Conversation; it is not during the Heat of an obstinate Battel, which had been too unseasonable to be excused by any Custom whatever; but he brings it in after he has made Hector retire into Troy, when the Absence of so powerful an Enemy had given Diomed that Leisure which he could not have had otherwise. One need only read the judicious Remark of Eustathius upon this Place. The Poet (says he) after having caus’d Hector to go out of the Fight, interrupts the Violence of Wars, and gives some Relaxation to the Reader, in causing him to pass from the Confusion and Disorder of the Action to the Tranquillity and Security of an Historical Narration. For by means of the happy Episode of Glaucus, he casts a thousand pleasing Wonders into his Poem; as Fables, that include beautiful Allegories, Histories, Genealogies, Sentences, ancient Customs, and several other Graces that tend to the diversifying of his Work, and which by breaking (as one may say) the Monotomy of it, agreeably instruct the Reader. Let us observe, in how fine a manner Homer has hereby praised both Diomed and Hector. For he makes us know, that as long as Hector is in the Field, the Greeks have not the least Leisure to take breath; and that as soon as he quits it, all the Trojans, however they had regain’d all their Advantages, were not able to employ Diomed so far as to prevent his entertaining himself with Glaucus without any danger to his Party. Some may think after all, that tho’ we may justify Homer, we cannot excuse the Manners of his Time; it not being natural for Men with Swords in their Hands to dialogue together in cold Blood just before they engage. But not to alledge, that these very Manners yet remain in those Countries, which have not been corrupted by the Commerce of other Nations, (which is a great Sign of their being natural) what Reason can be offer’d that it is more natural to fall on at first Sight with Rage and Fierceness, than to speak to an Enemy before the Encounter? Thus far Monsieur Dacier, and St. Evremont asks humourously, if it might not be as proper in that Country for Men to harangue before they fought, as it is in England to make Speeches before they are hanged.
That Homer is not in general apt to make unseasonable Harangues (as these Censurers would represent) may appear from that remarkable Care he has shewn in many Places to avoid them: As when in the fifth Book Aeneas being cured on a sudden in the middle of the Fight, is seen with Surprize by his Soldiers; he specifies with particular Caution, that they asked him no Questions how he became cured, in a time of so much Business and Action. Again, when there is a Necessity in the same Book that Minerva should have a Conference with Diomed, in order to engage him against Mars (after her Prohibition to him to fight with the Gods) Homer chuses a time for that Speech, just when the Hero is retir’d behind his Chariot to take Breath, which was the only Moment that could be spared during the Hurry of that whole Engagement. One might produce many Instances of the same kind.
The Discourse of Glaucus to Diomed is severely censured, not only on Account of the Circumstance of Time and Place, but likewise on the Score of the Subject, which is taxed as improper, and foreign to the End and Design of the Poem. But the Criticks who have made this Objection, seem neither to comprehend the Design of the Poet in general, nor the particular Aim of this Discourse. Many Passages in the best ancient Poets appear unaffecting at present, which probably gave the greatest Delight to their first Readers, because they were nearly interested in what was there related. It is very plain that Homer designed this Poem as a Monument to the Honour of the Greeks, who, tho’ consisting of several independent Societies, were yet very national in Point of Glory, being strongly affected with every thing that seem’d to advance the Honour of their common Country, and resentful of any Indignity offer’d to it. This Disposition was the Ground of that grand Alliance which is the Subject of this Poem. To Men so fond of their Country’s Glory, what could be more agreeable than to read a History fill’d with Wonders of a noble Family transplanted from Greece into Asia? They might here learn with Pleasure that the Grecian Virtues did not degenerate by removing into distant Climes: but especially they must be affected with uncommon Delight to find that Sarpedon and Glaucus, the bravest of the Trojan Auxiliaries, were originally Greeks. Tasso in this manner has introduced an agreeable Episode, which shews Clorinda the Offspring of Christian Parents, tho’ engag’d in the Service of the Infidels, Cant. 12.
Note XI.
VERSE 149. Between both Armies met, &c.]
It is usual with Homer before he introduces a Hero, to make as it were a Halt, to render him the more remarkable. Nothing could more prepare the Attention and Expectation of the Reader, than this Circumstance at the first meeting of Diomed and Glaucus. Just at the Time when the Mind begins to be weary with the Battel, it is diverted with the Prospect of a single Combate, which of a sudden turns to an Interview of Friendship and an unexpected Scene of sociable Virtue. The whole Air of the Conversation between these two Heroes has something heroically solemn in it.
Note XII.
VERSE 159. But if from Heav’n, &c.]
A quick change of Mind from the greatest Impiety to as great Superstition, is frequently observable in Men who having been guilty of the most heinous Crimes without any Remorse, on the sudden are fill’d with Doubts and Scruples about the most lawful or indifferent Actions. This seems the present Case of Diomed, who having knowingly wounded and insulted the Deities, is now afraid to engage the first Man he meets, lest perhaps a God might be conceal’d in that Shape. This Disposition of Diomed produces the Question he puts to Glaucus, which without this Consideration will appear impertinent, and so naturally occasions that agreeable Episode of Bellerophon which Glaucus relates in answer to Diomed.
Note XIII.
VERSE 161. Not long Lycurgus, &c.]
What Diomed here says is the Effect of Remorse, as if he had exceeded the Commission of Pallas in encountring with the Gods, and dreaded the Consequences of proceeding too far. At least he had no such Commission now, and besides, was no longer capable of distinguishing them from Men (a Faculty she had given him in the foregoing Book:) He therefore mentions this Story of Lycurgus as an Example that sufficed to terrify him from so rash an Undertaking. The Ground of the Fable they say is this, Lycurgus caused most of the Vines of his Country to be rooted up, so that his Subjects were obliged to mix it with Water when it was less plentiful: Hence it was feign’d that Thetis receiv’d Bacchus into her Bosom.
Note XIV.
VERSE 170. Immortals blest with endless Ease. ]
Tho’ Dacier’s and most of the Versions take no Notice of the Epithet used in this Place, [Greek]Dii facilè seu beatè viventes; the Translator thought it a Beauty which he could not but endeavour to preserve.
Note XV.
VERSE 178. Approach, and enter the dark Gates of Death. ]
This haughty Air which Homer gives his Heroes was doubtless a Copy of the Manners and hyperbolical Speeches of those Times. Thus Goliah to David, Sam. 1. Ch. 17. Approach, and I will give thy Flesh to the Fowls of the Air and the Beasts of the Field. The Orientals speak the same Language to this Day.
Note XVI.
VERSE 181. Like Leaves on Trees. ]
There is a noble Gravity in the beginning of this Speech of Glaucus, according to the true Style of Antiquity, Few and evil are our Days. This beautiful Thought of our Author whereby the Race of Men are compared to the Leaves of Trees, is celebrated by Simonides in a fine Fragment extant in Stobaeus. The same Thought may be found in Ecclesiasticus, Ch. 14. ℣. 18. almost in the same Words; As of the green Leaves on a thick Tree, some fall, and some grow; so is the Generation of Flesh and Blood, one cometh to an end, and another is born. The Reader who has seen so many Passages imitated from Homer by succeeding Poets, will no doubt be pleased to see one of an ancient Poet which Homer has here imitated; this is a Fragment of Musaeus preserv’d by Clemens Alexandrinus in his Stromata, Lib. 6.
[Greek]
Tho’ this Comparison be justly admir’d for its Beauty in this obvious Application to the Mortality and Succession of human Life, it seems however design’d by the Poet in this Place as a proper Emblem of the transitory State not of Men but of Families, which being by their Misfortunes or Follies fallen and decay’d, do again in a happier Season revive and flourish in the Fame and Virtues of their Posterity: In this Sense it is a direct Answer to what Diomed had ask’d, as well as a proper Preface to what Glaucus relates of his own Family, which having been extinct in Corinth, had recover’d new Life in Lycia.
Note XVII.
VERSE 193. Then call’d Ephyre.]
It was the same which was afterwards called Corinth, and had that Name in Homer’s Time, as appears from this Catalogue, ℣. 77.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 196. Lov’d for that Valour which preserves Mankind. ]
This Distinction of true Valour which has the Good of Mankind for its End, in Opposition to the Valour of Tyrants or Oppressors, is beautifully hinted by Homer in the Epithet [Greek], amiable Valour. Such as was that of Bellerophon who freed the Land from Monsters, and Creatures destructive to his Species. It is apply’d to this young Hero with particular Judgment and Propriety, if we consider the Innocence and Gentleness of his Manners appearing from the following Story, which every one will observe has a great Resemblance with that of Joseph in the Scriptures.
Note XIX.
VERSE 216. The faithful Youth his Monarch’s Mandate show’d. ]
Plutarch much commends the Virtue of Bellerophon, who faithfully carry’d those Letters he might so justly suspect of ill Consequence to him: The Passage is in his Discourse of Curiosity, and worth transcribing.
"A Man of Curiosity is void of all Faith, and it is better to trust Letters or any important Secrets to Servants, than to Friends and Familiars of an inquisitive Temper. Bellerophon when he carry’d Letters that order’d his own Destruction, did not unseal them, but forbore touching the King’s Dispatches with the same Continence, as he had refrain’d from injuring his Bed: For Curiosity is an Incontinence as well as Adultery.
Note XX.
VERSE 219. First dire Chimaera.]
Chimaera was feign’d to have the Head of a Lion breathing Flames, the Body of a Goat, and the Tail of a Dragon; because the Mountain of that Name in Lycia had a Vulcano on its top, and nourish’d Lions, the middle Part afforded Pasture for Goats, and the bottom was infested with Serpents. Bellerophon destroying these, and rendring the Mountain habitable, was said to have conquer’d Chimaera. He calls this Monster [Greek], in the manner of the Hebrews, who gave to any thing vast or extraordinary the Appellative of Divine. So the Psalmist says, The Mountains of God, &c.
Note XXI.
VERSE 227. The Solymaean Crew. ]
These Solymi were an ancient Nation inhabiting the mountainous Parts of Asia Minor between Lycia and Pisidia. Pliny mentions them as an Instance of a People so entirely destroy’d, that no Footsteps of them remain’d in his Time. Some Authors both ancient and modern, from a Resemblance in sound to the Latin Name of Jerusalem, have confounded them with the Jews. Tacitus; speaking of the various Opinions concerning the Origin of the Jewish Nation, has these Words, Clara alii tradunt Judaeorum initia, Solymos carminibus Homeri celebratum gentem, conditae urbi Hierosolymam nomen è suo fecisse. Hist. Lib. 6.
Note XXII.
VERSE 239. The Lycians grant a chosen Space of Ground. ]
It was usual in the ancient Times, upon any signal Piece of Service perform’d by the Kings or great Men, to have a Portion of Land decreed by the Publick as a Reward to them. Thus when Sarpedon in the twelfth Book incites Glaucus to behave himself valiantly, he puts him in mind of these Possessions granted by his Countrymen.
[Greek]—&c. [Greek]
In the same manner in the ninth Book of Virgil, Nisus is promised by Ascanius the Fields which were possess’d by Latinus, as a Reward for the Service he undertook.
—Campi quod rex habet ipse Latinus.
Chapman has an Interpolation in this Place, to tell us that this Field was afterwards called by the Lycians, The Field of Wandrings, from the Wandrings and Distraction of Bellerophon in the latter Part of his Life. But they were not these Fields that were call’d [Greek], but those upon which he fell from the Horse Pegasus, when he endeavour’d (as the Fable has it) to mount to Heaven.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 245. But when at last, &c.]
The same Criticks who have taxed Homer for being too tedious in this Story of Bellerophon, have censured him for omitting to relate the particular Offence which had rais’d the Anger of the Gods against a Man formerly so highly favour’d by them: But this Relation coming from the Mouth of his Grandson, it is with great Decorum and Propriety he passes over in Silence those Crimes of his Ancestor, which had provok’d the divine Vengeance against him. Milton has interwoven this Story with what Homer here relates of Bellerophon.
Lest from this flying Steed unrein’d (as once Bellerophon, though from a lower Clime) Dismounted on the Aleian Field I fall, Erroneous there to wander and forlorn. Parad. lost. B. 7.
Tully in his third Book of Tusculane Questions, having observ’d that Persons oppress’d with Woe naturally seek Solitude, instances this Example of Bellerophon, and gives us his Translation of two of these Lines.
Qui miser in campos moerens errabat Aleis, Ipse suum cor edens, hominum vestigia vitans.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 267. Our Grandsires have been Guests of old. ]
The Laws of Hospitality were anciently held in great Veneration. The Friendship contracted hereby was so sacred, that they prefer’d it to all the Bands of Consanguinity and Alliance, and accounted it obligatory even to the third and fourth Generation. We have seen in the foregoing Story of Bellerophon, that Proetus, a Prince under the Supposition of being injur’d in the highest degree, is yet afraid to revenge himself upon the Criminal on this Account: He is forced to send him into Lycia rather than be guilty of a Breach of this Law in his own Country. And the King of Lycia having entertain’d the Stranger before he unseal’d the Letters, puts him upon Expeditions abroad, in which he might be destroy’d, rather than at his Court. We here see Diomed and Glaucus agreeing not to be Enemies during the whole Course of a War, only because their Grandfathers had been mutual Guests. And we afterwards find Tea • • er engaged with the Greeks on this Account against the Trojans, tho’ he was himself of Trojan Extraction, the Nephew of Priam by the Mother’s side, and Cousin German of Hector, whose Life he pursues with the utmost Violence. They preserved in their Families the Presents which had been made on these Occasions, as obliged to transmit to their Children the Memorials of this Right of Hospitality. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 291. Jove warm’d his Bosom and enlarg’d his Mind. ]
The Words in the Original are [Greek], which may equally be interpreted, he took away his Sense, or he elevated his Mind. The former being a Reflection upon Glaucus’s Prudence, for making so unequal an Exchange, the latter a Praise of the Magnanimity and Generosity which induced him to it. Porphyry contends for its being understood in this last way, and Eustathius, Monsieur and Madam Dacier are of the same Opinion. Notwithstanding it is certain that Homer uses the same Words in the contrary Sense in the seventeenth Iliad, ℣. 470. and in the nineteenth, ℣. 137. And it is an obvious Remark, that the Interpretation of Porphyry as much dishonours Diomed who proposed this Exchange, as it does Honour to Glaucus for consenting to it. However I have followed it, if not as the juster, as the most heroic Sense, and as it has the nobler Air in Poetry.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 295. A hundred Beeves. ]
I wonder the Curious have not remark’d from this Place, that the Proportion of the Value of Gold to Brass in the Time of the Trojan War, was but as an hundred to nine; allowing these Armours of equal Weight; which as they belong’d to Men of equal Strength, is a reasonable Supposition. As to this manner of computing the Value of the Armour by Beeves or Oxen, it might be either because the Money was anciently stamp’d with those Figures, or (which is most probable in this Place) because in those Times they generally purchased by Exchange of Commodities, as we see by a Passage near the end of the seventh Book.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 329. Far hence be Bacchus’ Gifts—Enflaming Wine. ]
This Maxim of Hector’s concerning Wine, has a great deal of Truth in it. It is a vulgar Mistake to imagine the Use of Wine either raises the Spirits, or encreases Strength. The best Physicians agree with Homer in the Point; whatever our modern Soldiers may object to this old heroic Regimen. One may take notice that Sampson as well as Hector was a Water-drinker; for he was a Nazarite by Vow, and as such was forbid the Use of Wine. To which Milton alludes in his Sampson Agonistes.
Where-ever Fountain or fresh Current flow’d Against the Eastern Ray, translucent, pure, With touch Aethereal of Heav’ns fiery Rod, I drank, from the clear milky Juice allaying Thirst, and refresh’d; nor envy’d them the Grape, Whose Heads that turbulent Liquor fills with Fumes.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 335. Ill fits it me, with human Gore distain’d, &c.]
The Custom which prohibits Persons polluted with Blood to perform any Offices of divine Worship before they were purified, is so ancient and universal, that it may in some sort be esteem’d a Precept of natural Religion, tending to inspire an uncommon Dread and religious Horror of Bloodshed. There is a fine Passage in Euripides where Iphigenia argues how impossible it is that human Sacrifices should be acceptable to the Gods, since they do not permit any defil’d with Blood, or even polluted with the Touch of a dead Body, to come near their Altars. Iphig. in Tauris. ℣. 380. Virgil makes his Aeneas say the same thing Hector does here.
Me bello è tanto digressum & caede recenti Attrectare nefas, donec me flumine vivo Abluero.—
Note XXIX.
VERSE 361. Sidonian Maids. ]
Dictys Cretensis, lib. 1. acquaints us that Paris return’d not directly to Troy after the Rape of Helen, but fetch’d a Compass, probably to avoid Pursuit. He touch’d at Sidon, where he surprized the King of Phoenicia by Night, and carry’d off many of his Treasures and Captives, among which probably were these Sidonian Women. The Author of the ancient Poem of the Cypriacks says, he sailed from Sparta to Troy in the Space of three Days: from which Passage Herodotus concludes that Poem was not Homer’s. We find in the Scriptures, that Tyre and Sidon were famous for Works in Gold, Embroidery, &c. and for whatever regarded Magnificence and Luxury.
Note XXX.
VERSE 374. With Hands uplifted. ]
The only Gesture describ’d by Homer as used by the Ancients in the Invocation of the Gods, is the lifting up their Hands to Heaven. Virgil frequently alludes to this Practice; particularly in the second Book there is a Passage, the Beauty of which is much rais’d by this Consideration.
Ecce trahebatur passis Priameia virgo Crinibus, a Templo, Cassandra, adytisque Minervae, Ad caelum tendens ardentia lumina frustra, Lumina! nam teneras arcebant vincula palmas.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 378. Oh awful Goddess, &c.]
This Procession of the Trojan Matrons to the Temple of Minerva, with their Offering, and the Ceremonies; tho’ it be a Passage some Moderns have criticis’d upon, seems to have particularly pleas’d Virgil. For he has not only introduced it among the Figures in the Picture at Carthage,
Interea ad templum non aequae Palladis ibant Crinibus Iliades passis, peplumque ferebant Suppliciter tristes; & tunsis pectora palmis. Diva solo fixos oculos aversa tenebat.
But he has again copied it in the eleventh Book, where the Latian Dames make the same Procession upon the Approach of Aeneas to their City. The Prayer to the Goddess is translated almost word for word:
Armipotens praeses belli, Tritonia virgo, Frange manu telum Phrygii praedonis, & ipsum Pronum sterne solo portisque effunde sub altis.
This Prayer in the Latin Poet seems introduced with less Propriety, since Pallas appears no where interested in the Conduct of Affairs thro’ the whole Aeneid. The first Line of the Greek here is translated more literally than the former Versions; [Greek]. I take the first Epithet to allude to Minerva’s being the particular Protectress of Troy by means of the Palladium, and not (as Mr. Hobbes understands it) the Protectress of all Cities in general.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 387. But they vow’d in vain. ]
For Helenus only ordered that Prayers should be made to Minerva to drive Diomed from before the Walls. But Theano prays that Diomed may perish, and perish flying, which is included in his falling forward. Madam Dacier is so free as to observe here, that Women are seldom moderate in the Prayers they make against their Enemies, and therefore are seldom heard.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 390. Himself the Mansion rais’d. ]
I must own my self not so great an Enemy to Paris as some of the Commentators. His blind Passion is the unfortunate Occasion of the Ruine of his Country, and he has the ill Fate to have all his fine Qualities swallowed up in that. And indeed I cannot say he endeavours much to be a better Man than his Nature made him. But as to his Parts and Turn of Mind, I see nothing that is either weak, or wicked, the general Manners of those Times considered. On the contrary, a gentle Soul, patient of good Advice, tho’ indolent enough to forget it; and liable only to that Frailty of Love which methinks might in his Case as well as Helen’s be charged upon the Stars, and the Gods. So very amorous a Constitution, and so incomparable a Beauty to provoke it, might be Temptation enough even to a wise Man, and in some degree make him deserve Compassion, if not Pardon. It is remarkable, that Homer does not paint him and Helen (as some other Poets would have done) like Monsters, odious to Gods and Men, but allows their Characters such esteemable Qualifications as could consist, and in Truth generally do, with tender Frailties. He gives Paris several polite Accomplishments, and in particular a Turn to those Sciences that are the Result of a fine Imagination. He makes him have a Taste and Addiction to curious Works of all sorts, which caus’d him to transport Sidonian Artists to Troy, and employ himself at home in adorning and finishing his Armour: And now we are told that he assembled the most skilful Builders from all Parts of the Country, to render his Palace a compleat Piece of Architecture. This, together with what Homer has said elsewhere of his Skill in the Harp, which in those Days included both Musick and Poetry, may I think establish him a Bel-Esprit and a fine Genius.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 406. Thy Hate to Troy, &c.]
All the Commentators observe this Speech of Hector to be a Piece of Artifice; he seems to imagine that the Retirement of Paris proceeds only from his Resentment against the Trojans, and not from his Indolence, Luxury, or any other Cause. Plutarch thus discourses upon it.
"As a discreet Physician rather chuses to cure his Patient by Diet or Rest, than by Castoreum or Scammony, so a good Friend, a good Master, or a good Father, are always better pleased to make use of Commendation than Reproof, for the Reformation of Manners: For nothing so much assists a Man who reprehends with Frankness and Liberty, nothing renders him less offensive, or better promotes his good Design, than to reprove with Calmness, Affection, and Temper. He ought not therefore to urge them too severely if they deny the Fact, nor forestall their Justification of themselves, but rather try to help them out, and furnish them artificially with honest and colourable Pretences to excuse them; and tho’ he sees that their Fault proceeded from a more shameful Cause, he should yet impute it to something less criminal. Thus Hector deals with Paris, when he tells him, This is not the time to manifest your Anger against the Trojans: As if his Retreat from the Battel had not been absolutely a Flight, but merely the Effect of Resentment and Indignation.
Plut. Of knowing a Flatterer from a Friend, juxta fin.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 418. Brother, ’tis just, &c.]
Paris readily lays hold of the Pretext Hector had furnish’d him with, and confesses he has partly touch’d upon the true Reason of his Retreat, but that it was also partly occasion’d by the Concern he felt at the Victory of his Rival. Next he professes his Readiness for the Fight; but nothing can be a finer Trait (if we consider his Character) than what Homer puts into his Mouth just in this Place, that he is now exhorted to it by Helen: which shews that not the Danger of his Country and Parents, neither private Shame, nor publick Hatred, could so much prevail upon him, as the Commands of his Mistress, to go and recover his Honour.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 432. Helen ’s Speech. ]
The Repentance of Helena (which we have before observed Homer never loses an Opportunity of manifesting) is finely touch’d again here. Upon the whole we see the Gods are always concern’d in what befalls an unfortunate Beauty: Her Stars foredoom’d all the Mischief, and Heaven was to blame in suffering her to live: Then she fairly gets quit of the Infamy of her Lover, and shews she has higher Sentiments of Honour than he. How very natural is all this in the like Characters to this Day?
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 462. The Episode of Hector and Andromache.]
Homer undoubtedly shines most upon the great Subjects, in raising our Admiration or Terror: Pity, and the softer Passions, are not so much of the Nature of his Poem, which is formed upon Anger and the Violence of Ambition. But we have cause to think his Genius was no less capable of touching the Heart with Tenderness, than of firing it with Glory, from the few Sketches he has left us of his Excellency that way too. In the present Episode of the Parting of Hector and Andromache, he assembled all that Love, Grief, and Compassion could inspire. The greatest Censurers of Homer have acknowledg’d themselves charm’d with this Part, even Monsieur Perault translated it into French Verse as a kind of Penitential Sacrifice for the Sacrileges he had committed against this Author.
This Episode tends very much to raise the Character of Hector and endear him to every Reader. This Hero, tho’ doubtful if he should ever see Troy again, yet goes not to his Wife and Child, till after he has taken care for the Sacrifice, exhorted Paris to the Fight, and discharg’d every Duty to the Gods, and to his Country; his Love of which, as we formerly remark’d, makes his chief Character. What a beautiful Contraste has Homer made between the Manners of Paris and those of Hector, as he here shews them one after the other in this domestic Light, and in their Regards to the Fair Sex? What a Difference between the Characters and Behaviour of Helen and of Andromache? And what an amiable Picture of conjugal Love, oppos’d to that of unlawful Passion?
I must not forget, that Mr. Dryden has formerly translated this admirable Episode, and with so much Success, as to leave me at least no hopes of improving or equalling it. The utmost I can pretend is to have avoided a few modern Phrases and Deviations from the Original, which have escaped that great Man. I am unwilling to remark upon an Author to whom every English Poet owes so much; and shall therefore only take notice of a Criticism of his which I must be obliged to answer in its Place, as it is an Accusation of Homer himself.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 468. Pensive she stood on Ilion ’s Tow’ry Height. ]
It is a fine Imagination to represent the Tenderness of Andromache for Hector, by her standing upon the Tower of Troy, and watching all his Motions in the Field; even the religious Office of the Procession to Minerva’s Temple could not draw her from this Place, at a time when she thought her Husband in danger.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 473. Whose Virtue charm’d him, &c.]
Homer in this Verse particularizes the Virtue of Andromache in the Epithet [Greek], blameless, or without a Fault. I have used it literally in another Part of this Episode.
Note XL.
VERSE 487. Hector, this heard, return’d. ]
Hector does not stay to seek his Wife on the Tower of Ilion, but hastens where the Business of the Field calls him. Homer is never wanting in Point of Honour and Decency, and while he constantly obeys the strictest Rules, finds a way to make them contribute to the Beauty of his Poem. Here for instance he has managed it so, that this Observance of Hector’s is the Cause of a very pleasing Surprize to the Reader; for at first he is not a little disappointed to find that Hector does not meet Andromache, and is no less pleased afterwards to see them encounter by chance, which gives him a Satisfaction he thought he had lost. Dacier.
Note XLI.
VERSE 501. Scamandrius, from Scamander ’s honour’d Stream, &c.]
This manner of giving proper Names to Children derived from any Place, Accident, or Quality belonging to them or their Parents, is very ancient, and was customary among the Hebrews. The Trojans call’d the Son of Hector, Astyanax, because (as it is said here and at the end of the twenty second Book) his Father defended the City. There are many Instances of the same kind in the thirtieth Chapter of Genesis, where the Names given to Jacob’s Children, and the Reasons of those Names, are enumerated.
Note XLII.
VERSE 524. The fierce Achilles, &c.]
Mr. Dryden in the Preface to the third Volume of Miscellany Poems has past a Judgment upon Part of this Speech which is altogether unworthy of him.
" Andromache (says he) in the midst of her Concernment and Fright for Hector, runs off her Biass, to tell him a Story
of her Pedigree, and of the lamentable Death of her Father, her Mother, and her seven Brothers. The Devil was in Hector, if he knew not all this Matter, as well as she who told it him; for she had been his Bedfellow for many Years together: and if he knew it, then it must be confess’d, that Homer in this long Digression, has rather given us his own Character, than that of the fair Lady whom he paints. His dear Friends the Commentators, who never fail him at a Pinch, will needs excuse him, by making the present Sorrow of Andromache, to occasion the Remembrance of all the past: But others think that she had enough to do with that Grief which now oppress’d her, without running for Assistance to her Family."
But may not it be answer’d, that nothing was more natural in Andromache, than to recollect her past Calamities in order to represent her present Distress to Hector in a stronger Light, and shew her utter Desertion if he should perish. What could more effectually work upon a generous and tender Mind like that of Hector? What could therefore be more proper to each of their Characters? If Hector be induced to refrain from the Field, it proceeds from Compassion to Andromache: If Andromache endeavour to persuade him, it proceeds from her Fear for the Life of Hector. Homer had yet a farther View in this Recapitulation; it tends to raise his chief Hero Achilles, and acquaints us with those great Atchievements of his which preceded the Opening of the Poem. Since there was a Necessity that this Hero should be absent from the Action during a great Part of the Iliad, the Poet has shewn his Art in nothing more, than the Methods he takes from time to time to keep up our great Idea of him, and to awaken our Expectation of what he is to perform in the Progress of the Work. His greatest Enemies cannot upbraid or complain of him, but at the same time they confess his Glory and describe his Victories. When Apollo encourages the Trojans to fight, it is by telling them Achilles fights no more. When Juno animates the Greeks, it is by putting them in mind that they have to do with Enemies who durst not appear out of their Walls while Achilles engaged. When Andromache trembles for Hector, it is with Remembrance of the resistless Force of Achilles. And when Agamemnon would bribe him to a Reconciliation, it is partly with those very Treasures and Spoils which had been won by Achilles himself.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 528. His Arms preserv’d from hostile Spoil. ]
This Circumstance of Aetion’s being burned with his Arms will not appear trivial in this Relation, when we reflect with what eager Passion these ancient Heroes fought to spoil and carry off the Armour of a vanquish’d Enemy; and therefore this Action of Achilles is mention’d as an Instance of uncommon Favour and Generosity. Thus Aeneas in Virgil having slain Lausus, and being mov’d with Compassion for this unhappy Youth, gives him a Promise of the like Favour.
Arma, quibus laetatus, habe tua: teque parentum Manibus, & cineri, si qua est ea cura, remitto.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 532. Joves ’s Sylvan Daughters bade their Elms bestow A barren Shade, &c.]
It was the Custom to plant about Tombs only such Trees as Elms, Alders, &c. that bear no Fruit, as being most suitable to the Dead. This Passage alludes to that Piece of Antiquity.
Note XLV.
VERSE 543. A Victim to Diana ’s Bow. ]
The Greeks ascribed all sudden Deaths of Women to Diana. So Ulysses in Odyss. 11. asks Antyclia among the Shades if she died by the Darts of Diana? And in the present Book Laodame the Daughter of Bellerophon, is said to have perish’d young by the Arrows of this Goddess. Or perhaps it may allude to some Disease fatal to Women, such as Macrobius speaks of Sat. 1. 17.
Foeminas certis afflictas morbis [Greek] [Greek] vocant.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 550. That Quarter most—Where yon’ wild Figtrees. ]
The Artifice Andromache here uses to detain Hector in Troy is very beautifully imagined. She takes occasion from the three Attacks that had been made by the Enemy upon this Place, to give him an honourable Pretence for staying at that Rampart to defend it. If we consider that those Attempts must have been known to all in the City, we shall not think she talks like a Soldier, but like a Woman, who naturally enough makes use of any Incident that offers, to persuade her Lover to what she desires. The Ignorance too which she expresses, of the Reasons that mov’d the Greeks to attack this particular Place, was what I doubt not Homer intended, to reconcile it the more to a Female Character.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 583. Hyperia ’s Spring. ]
Drawing Water was the Office of the meanest Slaves. This appears by the holy Scripture, where the Gibeonites who had deceiv’d Josuah are made Slaves and subjected to draw Water. Josuah pronounces the Curse against them in these Words:
Now therefore ye are cursed, and there shall none of you be freed from being Bondmen, and Hewers of Wood, and Drawers of Water.
Josh. Ch. 9. V. 23. Dacier.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 595. Stretch’d his fond Arms. ]
There never was a finer Piece of Painting than this. Hector extends his Arms to embrace his Child; the Child affrighted at the glittering of his Helmet and the shaking of the Plume, shrinks backward to the Breast of his Nurse; Hector unbraces his Helmet, lays it on the Ground, takes the Infant in his Arms, lifts him towards Heaven, and offers a Prayer for him to the Gods: then returns him to the Mother Andromache, who receives him with a Smile of Pleasure, but at the same instant the Fears for her Husband make her burst into Tears. All these are but small Circumstances, but so artfully chosen, that every Reader immediately feels the force of them, and represents the whole in the utmost Liveliness to his Imagination. This alone might be a Confutation of that false Criticism some have fallen into, who affirm that a Poet ought only to collect the great and noble Particulars in his Paintings. But it is in the Images of Things as in the Characters of Persons; where a small Action, or even a small Circumstance of an Action, lets us more into the Knowledge and Comprehension of them, than the material and principal Parts themselves. As we find this in a History, so we do in a Picture, where sometimes a small Motion or Turning of a Finger will express the Character and Action of the Figure more than all the other Parts of the Design. Longinus indeed blames an Author’s insisting too much on trivial Circumstances; but in the same Place extols Homer as
"the Poet who best knew how to make use of important and beautiful Circumstances, and to avoid the mean and superfluous ones."
There is a vast difference betwixt a small Circumstance and a trivial one, and the smallest become important if they are well chosen, and not confused.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 604. Hector ’s Prayer for his Son. ]
It may be asked how Hector’s Prayer, that his Son might protect the Trojans, could be consistent with what he had said just before, that he certainly knew Troy and his Parents would perish. We ought to reflect that this is only a Prayer: Hector in the Excess of a tender Emotion for his Son, entreats the Gods to preserve Troy, and permit Astyanax to rule there. It is at all times allowable to beseech Heaven to appease its Anger, and change its Decrees; and we are taught that Prayers can alter Destiny. Dacier. Besides it cannot be infer’d from hence, that Hector had any divine Foreknowledge of his own Fate and the approaching Ruine of his Country; since in many following Passages we find him possess’d with strong Hopes and firm Assurances to raise the Siege by the Flight or Destruction of the Greeks. So that these Forebodings of his Fate were only the Apprehensions and Misgivings of a Soul dejected with Sorrow and Compassion, by considering the great Dangers to which he saw all that was dear to him expos’d.
Note L.
VERSE 612. Transcends his Father’s Fame. ]
The Commendation Hector here gives himself, is not only agreeable to the Openness of a brave Man, but very becoming on such a solemn Occasion; and a natural Effect from the Testimony of his own Heart to his Honour; at this time especially, when he knew not but he was speaking his last Words. Virgil has not scrupled it, in what he makes Aeneas say to Ascanius at his Parting for the Battel.
Et pater Aeneas & avunculus excitet Hector. Disce puer virtutem ex me, verumque laborem, Fortunam ex aliis— Aen. 12.
I believe he had this of Homer in his Eye, tho’ the pathetical mention of Fortune in the last Line seems an Imitation of that Prayer of Sophocles, copied also from hence, where Ajax wishes his Son may be like him in all things but in his Misfortunes.
Note LI.
VERSE 615. His Mother’s conscious Heart. ]
Tho’ the chief Beauty of this Prayer consists in the paternal Piety shewn by Hector, yet it wants not a fine Stroake at the end, to continue him in the Character of a tender Lover of his Wife, when he makes one of the Motives of his Wish, to be the Joy she shall receive on hearing her Son applauded.
Note LII.
VERSE 628. Fix’d is the Term. ]
The Reason which Hector here urges to allay the Affliction of his Wife, is grounded on a very ancient and common Opinion, that the fatal Period of Life is appointed to all Men at the time of their Birth; which as no Precaution can avoid, so no Danger can hasten. This Sentiment is as proper to give Comfort to the distress’d, as to inspire Courage to the desponding; since nothing is so fit to quiet and strengthen our Minds in Times of Difficulty, as a firm Assurance that our Lives are expos’d to no real Hazards, in the greatest Appearances of Danger.
Note LIII.
VERSE 649. Forth issues Paris.]
Paris stung by the Reproaches of Hector, goes to the Battel. ’Tis a just Remark of Eustathius, that all the Reproofs and Remonstrances made in Homer have constantly their Effect. The Poet by this shews the great Use of Reprehensions when properly apply’d, and finely intimates that every worthy Mind will be the better for them.
Note LIV.
VERSE 652. The wanton Courser thus, &c.]
This beautiful Comparison being translated by Virgil in the eleventh Aeneid; I shall transcribe the Originals that the Reader may have the Pleasure of comparing them.
[Greek]
Qualis ubi abruptis fugit praesepia vinclis Tandem liber equus, campoque potitus aperto, Aut ille in pastus armentaque tendit equarum: Aut assuetus aquae perfundi flumine noto Emicat, arrectisque fremit cervicibus alte Luxurians; luduntque jubae per colla, per armos.
Tho’ nothing can be translated better than this is by Virgil, yet in Homer the Simile seems more perfect, and the Place more proper. Paris had been indulging his Ease within the Walls of his Palace, as the Horse in his Stable, which was not the Case of Turnus. The Beauty and Wantonness of the Steed agrees more exactly with the Character of Paris than with the other: And the Insinuation of his Love of the Mares has yet a nearer Resemblance. The languishing Flow of that Verse,
[Greek]
finely corresponds with the Ease and Luxuriancy of the pamper’d Courser bathing in the Flood; a Beauty which Scaliger did not consider, when he criticis’d particularly upon that Line. Tasso has also imitated this Simile, Cant. 9.
Come destrier, che da la regie stalle Ove a l’uso de l’arme si reserba, Fugge, e libero alfin per largo calle Và trâ gl’armenti, ò al fiume usato, ò a l’erba; Scherzau sù ’l collo i crini, e sù le spalle, Si scote la cervice alta, e superba; Suonano i piè nel corso, e par, ch’auvampi, Di sonori nitriti empiendo i campi.
Note LV.
VERSE 665. Paris excus’d his Stay. ]
Here, in the Original, is a short Speech of Paris containing only these Words; Brother, I have detained you too long, and should have come sooner as you desired me. This and some few others of the same Nature in the Iliad, the Translator has ventured to omit, expressing only the Sense of them. A living Author (whom future Times will quote, and therefore I shall not scruple to do it) says that these short Speeches, tho’ they may be natural in other Languages, can’t appear so well in ours, which is much more stubborn and unpliant, and therefore are but as so many Rubs in the Story that are still turning the Narration out of its proper Course.
Note LVI.
VERSE 669. Known is thy Courage, &c.]
Hector here confesses the natural Valour of Paris, but observes it to be overcome by the Indolence of his Temper and the Love of Pleasure. An ingenious French Writer very well remarks, that the true Character of this Hero has a great Resemblance with that of Marc Anthony. See the 4 th and 11 th Notes on the third Book.
Note LVII.
VERSE 677. We crown the Bowl to Heav’n and Liberty. ]
The Greek is, [Greek]the free Bowl, in which they made Libations to Jupiter after the Recovery of their Liberty. The Expression is observed by M. Dacier to resemble those of the Hebrews; The Cup of Salvation, the Cup of Sorrow, the Cup of Benediction, &c. Athenaeus mentions those Cups which the Greeks call’d [Greek], and were consecrated to the Gods in Memory of some Success. He gives us the Inscription of one of this sort, which was, [Greek]
Book VII THE SEVENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Battel renewing with double Ardour upon the Return of Hector, Minerva is under Apprehensions for the Greeks. Apollo seeing her descend from Olympus, joins her near the Scaean Gate. They agree to put off the general Engagement for that Day, and incite Hector to challenge the Greeks to a single Combate. Nine of the Princes accepting the Challenge, the Lot is cast, and falls upon Ajax. These Heroes, after several Attacks, are parted by the Night. The Trojans calling a Council, Antenor proposes the Delivery of Helen to the Greeks, to which Paris will not consent, but offers to restore them her Riches. Priam sends a Herald to make this Offer, and to demand a Truce for burning the Dead, the last of which only is agreed to by Agamemnon. When the Funerals are performed, the Greeks, pursuant to the Advice of Nestor, erect a Fortification to protect their Fleet and Camp, flank’d with Towers, and defended by a Ditch and Palisades. Neptune testifies his Jealousy at this Work, but is pacified by a Promise from Jupiter. Both Armies pass the Night in Feasting, but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans with Thunder and other Signs of his Wrath. The three and twentieth Day ends with the Duel of Hector and Ajax: The next Day the Truce is agreed: Another is taken up in the Funeral Rites of the Slain; and one more in building the Fortification before the Ships: So that somewhat above three Days is employed in this Book. The Scene lies wholly in the Field.
Index to The Argument
- [1-22] Hector and Paris rejoin the battle
- [23-46] Apollo and Minerva conspire to arrange a duel
- [47-58] Helenus inspires Hector to issue a challenge
- [59-104] Hector's challenge to single combat
- [105-142] Menelaus accepts, but is restrained
- [143-194] Nestor's speech shames and inspires the Greeks
- [195-248] Nine princes volunteer; the lot falls to Ajax
- [249-330] The duel of Ajax and Hector
- [331-371] Heralds stop the duel at nightfall; gifts are exchanged
- [372-391] The champions return; the Greeks feast
- [392-413] Nestor's counsel: A truce for funerals and a new wall
- [414-453] Trojan council: Paris offers treasure, but not Helen
- [454-493] The truce is granted; the treasure is refused
- [494-515] A day of funerals
- [516-525] The Greeks build their defensive wall
- [526-555] On Olympus, Neptune protests the wall
- [556-579] Both armies feast; Jupiter sends ill omens
- [1-579] Scene: The field of battle
SO spoke the Guardian of the Trojan State,
Then rush’d impetuous thro’ the Scaean Gate.
Him Paris follow’d to the dire Alarms;
Both breathing Slaughter, both resolv’d in Arms.
As when to Sailors lab’ring thro’ the Main,
That long had heav’d the weary Oar in vain,
Jove bids at length th’ expected Gales arise;
The Gales blow grateful, and the Vessel flies:
So welcome these to Troy’s desiring Train;
The Bands are chear’d, the War awakes again.
Bold Paris first the Work of Death begun,
On great Menesthius, Areïthous’ Son;
Sprung from the fair Philomeda’s Embrace,
The pleasing Arnè was his native Place.
Then sunk Eioneus to the Shades below,
Beneath his steely Casque he felt the Blow
Full on his Neck, from Hector’s weighty Hand;
And roll’d, with Limbs relax’d, along the Land.
By Glaucus’ Spear the bold Iphinous bleeds,
Fix’d in the Shoulder as he mounts his Steeds;
Headlong he tumbles: His slack Nerves unbound
Drop the cold useless Members on the Ground.
When now Minerva saw her Argives slain,
From vast Olympus to the gleaming Plain
Fierce she descends: Apollo mark’d her Flight,
Nor shot less swift from Ilion’s Tow’ry Height:
Radiant they met, beneath the Beechen Shade;
When thus Apollo to the blue-ey’d Maid.
What cause, O Daughter of Almighty Jove!
Thus wings thy Progress from the Realms above?
Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy way,
To give to Greece the long-divided Day?
Too much has Troy already felt thy Hate,
Now breathe thy Rage, and hush the stern Debate:
This Day, the Business of the Field suspend;
War soon shall kindle, and great Ilion bend;
Since vengeful Goddesses confed’rate join
To raze her Walls, tho’ built by Hands Divine.
To whom the Progeny of Jove replies.
I left, for this, the Council of the Skies:
But who shall bid conflicting Hosts forbear,
What Art shall calm the furious Sons of War?
To her the God: Great Hector’s Soul incite
To dare the boldest Greek to single Fight,
Till Greece, provok’d, from all her Numbers show
A Warrior worthy to be Hector’s Foe.
At this agreed, the Heav’nly Pow’rs withdrew;
Sage Helenus their secret Counsels knew:
Hector inspir’d he sought: To him addrest,
Thus told the Dictates of his sacred Breast.
50O Son of Priam! let thy faithful Ear
Receive my Words; thy Friend and Brother hear!
Go forth persuasive, and a while engage
The warring Nations to suspend their Rage;
Then dare the boldest of the hostile Train
To mortal Combate on the listed Plain.
For not this Day shall end thy glorious Date;
The Gods have spoke it, and their Voice is Fate.
He said: The Warrior heard the Word with Joy.
Then with his Spear restrain’d the Youth of Troy,
Held by the midst athwart. On either Hand
The Squadrons part; th’ expecting Trojans stand.
Great Agamemnon bids the Greeks forbear;
They breathe, and hush the Tumult of the War.
Th’ Athenian Maid, and glorious God of Day,
With silent Joy the settling Hosts survey:
In Form like Vulturs, on the Beeche’s Height
They sit conceal’d, and wait the future Fight.
The thronging Troops obscure the dusky Fields,
Horrid with bristling Spears, and gleaming Shields.
As when a gen’ral Darkness veils the Main,
(Soft Zephyr curling the wide wat’ry Plain)
The Waves scarce heave, the Face of Ocean sleeps,
And a still Horror saddens all the Deeps:
Thus in thick Orders settling wide around,
At length compos’d they sit, and shade the Ground.
Great Hector first amidst both Armies broke
The solemn Silence, and their Pow’rs bespoke.
Hear all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian Bands,
What my Soul prompts, and what some God commands.
Great Jove averse our Warfare to compose,
O’erwhelms the Nations with new Toils and Woes;
War with a fiercer Tide once more returns,
Till Ilion falls, or till yon’ Navy burns.
You then, O Princes of the Greeks! appear,
’Tis Hector speaks, and calls the Gods to hear:
From all your Troops select the boldest Knight,
And him, the boldest, Hector dares to Fight.
Here if I fall, by chance of Battel slain,
Be his my Spoil, and his these Arms remain;
But let my Body, to my Friends return’d,
By Trojan Hands and Trojan Flames be burn’d.
And if Apollo, in whose Aid I trust,
Shall stretch your daring Champion in the Dust;
If mine the Glory to despoil the Foe;
On Phoebus’ Temple I’ll his Arms bestow:
The breathless Carcase to your Navy sent,
Greece on the Shore shall raise a Monument;
Which when some future Mariner surveys,
Wash’d by broad Hellespont’s resounding Seas,
100Thus shall he say. "A valiant Greek lies there,
"By Hector slain, the mighty Man of War.
The Stone shall tell your vanquish’d Hero’s Name,
And distant Ages learn the Victor’s Fame.
This fierce Defiance Greece astonish’d heard,
Blush’d to refuse, and to accept it fear’d.
Stern Menelaus first the Silence broke,
And inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke.
Women of Greece! Oh Scandal of your Race,
Whose Coward Souls your manly Form disgrace.
How great the Shame, when ev’ry Age shall know
That not a Grecian met this noble Foe!
Go then! resolve to Earth from whence ye grew,
A heartless, spiritless, inglorious Crew:
Be what ye seem, unanimated Clay!
My self will dare the Danger of the Day.
’Tis Man’s bold Task the gen’rous Strife to try,
But in the Hands of God is Victory.
These Words scarce spoke, with gen’rous Ardour prest,
His manly Limbs in Azure Arms he drest:
That Day, Atrides! a superior Hand
Had stretch’d thee breathless on the hostile Strand;
But all at once, thy Fury to compose,
The Kings of Greece, an awful Band, arose:
Ev’n He their Chief, great Agamemnon press’d
Thy daring Hand, and this Advice address’d.
Whither, O Menelaus! would’st thou run,
And tempt a Fate which Prudence bids thee shun?
Griev’d tho’ thou art, forbear the rash Design;
Great Hector’s Arm is mightier far than thine.
Ev’n fierce Achilles learn’d its Force to fear,
And trembling met this dreadful Son of War.
Sit thou secure amidst thy social Band;
Greece in our Cause shall arm some pow’rful Hand.
The mightiest Warrior of th’ Achaian Name,
Tho’ bold, and burning with Desire of Fame,
Content, the doubtful Honour might foregoe,
So great the Danger, and so brave the Foe.
He said, and turn’d his Brother’s vengeful Mind,
He stoop’d to Reason, and his Rage resign’d.
No longer bent to rush on certain Harms,
His joyful Friends unbrace his Azure Arms.
He, from whose Lips divine Persuasion flows,
Grave Nestor, then, in graceful Act arose.
Thus to the Kings he spoke. What Grief, what Shame
Attend on Greece, and all the Grecian Name?
How shall, alas! her hoary Heroes mourn,
Their Sons degen’rate, and their Race a Scorn?
What Tears shall down thy silver Beard be roll’d,
Oh Peleus, old in Arms, in Wisdom old!
150Once with what Joy the gen’rous Prince would hear
Of ev’ry Chief who sought this glorious War,
Participate their Fame, and pleas’d enquire
Each Name, each Action, and each Hero’s Sire?
Gods! should he see our Warriors trembling stand,
And trembling all before one hostile Hand;
How would he lift his aged Arms on high,
Lament inglorious Greece, and beg to die!
Oh would to all th’ immortal Pow’rs above,
Minerva, Phoebus, and Almighty Jove!
Years might again roll back, my Youth renew,
And give this Arm the Spring which once it knew:
When fierce in War, where Jardan’s Waters fall,
I led my Troops to Phea’s trembling Wall,
And with th’ Arcadian Spears my Prowess try’d,
Where Celadon rolls down his rapid Tide.
There Ereuthalion brav’d us in the Field,
Proud, Areithous’ dreadful Arms to wield;
Great Areithous, known from Shore to Shore
By the huge, knotted Iron-Mace he bore;
No Lance he shook, nor bent the twanging Bow,
But broke, with this, the Battel of the Foe.
Him not by manly Force Lycurgus slew,
Whose guileful Javelin from the Thicket flew,
Deep in a winding Way his Breast assail’d,
Nor ought the Warrior’s thund’ring Mace avail’d.
Supine he fell: Those Arms which Mars before
Had giv’n the Vanquish’d, now the Victor bore.
But when old Age had dim’d Lycurgus Eyes,
To Ereuthalion he consign’d the Prize.
Furious with this, he crush’d our levell’d Bands,
And dar’d the Trial of the strongest Hands;
Nor cou’d the strongest Hands his Fury stay;
All saw, and fear’d, his huge, tempestuous Sway.
Till I, the youngest of the Host, appear’d,
And youngest, met whom all our Army fear’d.
I fought the Chief: my Arms Minerva crown’d:
Prone fell the Giant o’er a Length of Ground.
What then I was, Oh were your Nestor now!
Not Hector’s self should want an equal Foe.
But Warriors, you, that youthful Vigour boast,
The Flow’r of Greece, th’ Examples of our Host,
Sprung from such Fathers, who such Numbers sway;
Can you stand trembling, and desert the Day?
His warm Reproofs the list’ning Kings inflame,
And nine, the noblest of the Grecian Name,
Up-started fierce: But far before the rest
The King of Men advanc’d his dauntless Breast:
Then bold Tydides, great in Arms, appear’d;
And next his Bulk gigantic Ajax rear’d:
200Oileus follow’d, Idomen was there,
And Merion, dreadful as the God of War:
With these Eurypylus and Thoas stand,
And wise Ulysses clos’d the daring Band.
All these, alike inspir’d with noble Rage,
Demand the Fight. To whom the Pylian Sage:
Lest Thirst of Glory your brave Souls divide,
What Chief shall combate, let the Lots decide.
Whom Heav’n shall chuse, be his the Chance to raise
His Country’s Fame, his own immortal Praise.
The Lots produc’d, each Hero signs his own,
Then in the Gen’rals Helm the Fates are thrown.
The People pray with lifted Eyes and Hands,
And Vows like these ascend from all the Bands.
Grant thou Almighty! in whose Hand is Fate,
A worthy Champion for the Grecian State.
This Task let Ajax or Tydides prove,
Or He, the King of Kings, belov’d by Jove.
Old Nestor shook the Casque. By Heav’n inspir’d,
Leap’d forth the Lot of ev’ry Greek desir’d.
This from the Right to Left the Herald bears,
Held out in Order to the Grecian Peers.
Each to his Rival yields the Mark unknown,
Till Godlike Ajax finds the Lot his own;
Surveys th’ Inscription with rejoicing Eyes,
Then casts before him, and with Transport cries:
Warriors! I claim the Lot, and arm with Joy;
Be mine the Conquest of this Chief of Troy.
Now, while my brightest Arms my Limbs invest,
To Saturn’s Son be all your Vows addrest:
But pray in secret, lest the Foes should hear,
And deem your Pray’rs the mean Effect of Fear.
Said I in secret? No, your Vows declare,
In such a Voice as fills the Earth and Air.
Lives there a Chief whom Ajax ought to dread,
Ajax, in all the Toils of Battel bred?
From warlike Salamis I drew my Birth,
And born to Combates, fear no Force of Earth.
He said. The Troops with elevated Eyes,
Implore the God whose Thunder rends the Skies.
O Father of Mankind, Superior Lord!
On lofty Ida’s holy Hill ador’d;
Who in the highest Heav’n hast fix’d thy Throne,
Supreme of Gods! unbounded, and alone:
Grant thou, that Telamon may bear away
The Praise and Conquest of this doubtful Day.
Or if illustrious Hector be thy Care,
That both may claim ’em, and that both may share.
Now Ajax brac’d his dazling Armour on;
Sheath’d in bright Steel the Giant-Warrior shone:
250He moves to Combate with majestic Pace;
So stalks in Arms the grizly God of Thrace,
When Jove to punish faithless Men prepares,
And gives whole Nations to the Waste of Wars.
Thus march’d the Chief, tremendous as a God;
Grimly he smil’d; Earth trembled as he strode:
His massy Javelin quiv’ring in his Hand,
He stood, the Bulwark of the Grecian Band.
Thro’ ev’ry Argive Heart new Transport ran,
All Troy stood trembling at the mighty Man.
Ev’n Hector paus’d, and with new Doubt opprest
Felt his great Heart suspended in his Breast:
’Twas vain to seek Retreat, and vain to fear;
Himself had challeng’d, and the Foe drew near.
Stern Telamon behind his ample Shield
As from a Brazen Tow’r, o’erlook’d the Field.
Huge was its Orb, with sev’n thick Folds o’ercast,
Of tough Bull-hides; of solid Brass the last.
(The Work of Tychius, who in Hylè dwell’d,
And All in Arts of Armoury excell’d.)
This Ajax bore before his manly Breast,
And threat’ning, thus his adverse Chief addrest.
Hector! approach my Arm, and singly know
What Strength thou hast, and what the Grecian Foe.
Achilles shuns the Fight; yet some there are
Not void of Soul, and not unskill’d in War:
Let him, unactive on the Sea-beat Shore,
Indulge his Wrath, and aid our Arms no more;
Whole Troops of Heroes, Greece has yet to boast,
And sends thee One, a Sample of her Host.
Such as I am, I come to prove thy Might;
No more—be sudden, and begin the Fight.
O Son of Telamon, thy Country’s Pride!
(To Ajax thus the Trojan Prince reply’d)
Me, as a Boy or Woman would’st thou fright,
New to the Field, and trembling at the Fight?
Thou meet’st a Chief deserving of thy Arms,
To Combate born, and bred amidst Alarms:
I know to shift my Ground, remount the Car,
Turn, charge, and answer ev’ry Call of War,
To right, to left, the dext’rous Lance I wield,
And bear thick Battel on my sounding Shield.
But open be our Fight, and bold each Blow;
I steal no Conquest from a noble Foe.
He said, and rising, high above the Field
Whirl’d the long Lance against the sev’nfold Shield.
Full on the Brass descending from above
Thro’ six Bull-hides the furious Weapon drove,
Till in the sev’nth it fix’d. Then Ajax threw,
Thro’ Hector’s Shield the forceful Javelin flew,
300His Corslet enters, and his Garment rends,
And glancing downwards near his Flank descends.
The wary Trojan shrinks, and bending low
Beneath his Buckler, disappoints the Blow.
From their bor’d Shields the Chiefs the Javelins drew,
Then close impetuous, and the Charge renew:
Fierce as the Mountain-Lions bath’d in Blood,
Or foaming Boars, the Terror of the Wood.
At Ajax Hector his long Lance extends;
The blunted Point against the Buckler bends.
But Ajax watchful as his Foe drew near,
Drove thro’ the Trojan Targe the knotty Spear;
It reach’d his Neck, with matchless Strength impell’d;
Spouts the black Gore, and dimms his shining Shield.
Yet ceas’d not Hector thus; but, stooping down,
In his strong Hand up-heav’d a flinty Stone,
Black, craggy, vast: To this his Force he bends;
Full on the Brazen Boss the Stone descends;
The hollow Brass resounded with the Shock.
Then Ajax seiz’d the Fragment of a Rock,
Apply’d each Nerve, and swinging round on high,
With Force tempestuous let the Ruin fly:
The huge Stone thund’ring thro’ his Buckler broke;
His slacken’d Knees receiv’d the numbing Stroke;
Great Hector falls extended on the Field,
His Bulk supporting on the shatter’d Shield.
Nor wanted heav’nly Aid: Apollo’s Might
Confirm’d his Sinews, and restor’d to Fight.
And now both Heroes their broad Faulchions drew,
In flaming Circles round their Heads they flew,
But then by Heralds Voice the Word was giv’n,
The sacred Ministers of Earth and Heav’n:
Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ,
And sage Idaeus on the Part of Troy,
Between the Swords their peaceful Sceptres rear’d;
When thus Idaeus’ awful Voice was heard.
Forbear, my Sons! your farther Force to prove,
Both dear to Men, and both belov’d of Jove.
To either Host your matchless Worth is known,
Each sounds your Praise, and War is all your own.
But now the Night extends her awful Shade;
The Goddess parts you: Be the Night obey’d.
To whom great Ajax his high Soul express’d.
O Sage! to Hector be these Words address’d.
Let him, who first provok’d our Chiefs to fight,
Let him demand the Sanction of the Night:
If first he ask it, I content obey,
And cease the Strife when Hector shows the way.
Oh first of Greeks! (his noble Foe rejoin’d)
Whom Heav’n adorns, superior to thy Kind,
350With Strength of Body, and with Worth of Mind!
Now Martial Law commands us to forbear,
Hereafter we shall meet in glorious War,
Some future Day shall lengthen out the Strife,
And let the Gods decide of Death or Life!
Since then the Night extends her gloomy Shade,
And Heav’n enjoins it, be the Night obey’d.
Return, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian Friends,
And joy the Nations whom thy Arm defends;
As I shall glad each Chief, and Trojan Wife,
Who wearies Heav’n with Vows for Hector’s Life.
But let us, on this memorable Day,
Exchange some Gift; that Greece and Troy may say,
"Not Hate, but Glory, made these Chiefs contend;
"And each brave Foe was in his Soul a Friend.
With that, a Sword with Stars of Silver grac’d,
The Baldric studded, and the Sheath enchas’d,
He gave the Greek. The gen’rous Greek bestow’d
A radiant Belt that rich with Purple glow’d.
Then with majestic Grace they quit the Plain;
This seeks the Grecian, that the Phrygian Train.
The Trojan Bands returning Hector wait,
And hail with Joy the Champion of their State:
Escap’d great Ajax, they survey’d him round,
Alive, unharm’d, and vig’rous from his Wound.
To Troy’s high Gates the God-like Chief they bear,
Their present Triumph, as their late Despair.
But Ajax, glorying in his hardy Deed,
The well-arm’d Greeks to Agamemnon lead.
A Steer for Sacrifice the King design’d,
Of full five Years, and of the nobler Kind.
The Victim falls, they strip the smoaking Hide,
The Beast they quarter, and the Joints divide,
Then spread the Tables, the Repast prepare,
Each takes his Seat, and each receives his Share.
The King himself (an Honorary Sign)
Before great Ajax plac’d the mighty Chine.
When now the Rage of Hunger was remov’d;
Nestor, in each persuasive Art approv’d,
The Sage whose Counsels long had sway’d the rest,
In Words like these his prudent Thought exprest.
How dear, O Kings! this fatal Day has cost,
What Greeks are perish’d! what a People lost!
What Tides of Blood have drench’d Scamander’s Shore?
What Crowds of Heroes sunk, to rise no more?
Then hear me, Chief! nor let the Morrow’s Light
Awake thy Squadrons to new Toils of Fight.
Some Space at least permit the War to breathe,
While we to Flames our slaughter’d Friends bequeathe,
From the red Field their scatter’d Bodies bear,
400And nigh the Fleet a Fun’ral Structure rear:
So decent Urns their snowy Bones may keep,
And pious Children o’er their Ashes weep.
Here, where on one promiscuous Pile they blaz’d,
High o’er them all a gen’ral Tomb be rais’d.
Next, to secure our Camp, and Naval Pow’rs,
Raise an embattel’d Wall, with lofty Tow’rs;
From Space to Space be ample Gates around,
For passing Chariots, and a Trench profound.
So Greece to Combate shall in Safety go,
Nor fear the fierce Incursions of the Foe.
’Twas thus the Sage his wholsome Counsel mov’d;
The sceptred Kings of Greece his Words approv’d.
Meanwhile, conven’d at Priam’s Palace Gate,
The Trojan Peers in nightly Council sate:
A Senate void of Union as of Choice,
Their Hearts were fearful, and confus’d their Voice.
Antenor rising, thus demands their Ear:
Ye Trojans, Dardans, and Auxiliars hear!
’Tis Heav’n the Counsel of my Breast inspires,
And I but move what ev’ry God requires,
Let Sparta’s Treasures be this Hour restor’d,
And Argive Helen own her ancient Lord.
The Ties of Faith, the sworn Alliance broke,
Our impious Battels the just Gods provoke.
As this Advice ye practise, or reject,
So hope Success, or dread the dire Effect.
The Senior spoke, and sate. To whom reply’d
The graceful Husband of the Spartan Bride.
Cold Counsels, Trojan, may become thy Years,
But sound ungrateful in a Warrior’s Ears:
Old Man, if void of Fallacy or Art
Thy Words express the Purpose of thy Heart,
Thou, in thy Time, more sound Advice hast giv’n;
But Wisdom has its Date, assign’d by Heav’n.
Then hear me, Princes of the Trojan Name!
Their Treasures I’ll restore, but not the Dame;
My Treasures too, for Peace, I will resign;
But be this bright Possession ever mine.
’Twas then, the growing Discord to compose,
Slow from his Seat the rev’rend Priam rose.
His God-like Aspect deep Attention drew:
He paus’d, and these pacific Words ensue.
Ye Trojans, Dardans, and Auxiliar Bands!
Now take Refreshment as the Hour demands:
Guard well the Walls, relieve the Watch of Night,
Till the new Sun restores the chearful Light:
Then shall our Herald to th’ Atrides sent,
Before their Ships, proclaim my Son’s Intent:
Next let a Truce be ask’d, that Troy may burn
450Her slaughter’d Heroes, and their Bones in-urn.
That done, once more the Fate of War be try’d,
And whose the Conquest, mighty Jove decide!
The Monarch spoke: the Warriors snatch’d with haste
(Each at his Post in Arms) a short Repaste.
Soon as the rosy Morn had wak’d the Day,
To the black Ships Idaeus bent his way:
There, to the Sons of Mars, in Council found,
He rais’d his Voice: The Hosts stood list’ning round.
Ye Sons of Atreus, and ye Greeks, give ear!
The Words of Troy, and Troy’s great Monarch hear.
Pleas’d may ye hear (so Heav’n succeed my Pray’rs)
What Paris, Author of the War, declares.
The Spoils and Treasures he to Ilion bore,
(Oh had he perish’d e’er they touch’d our Shore)
He proffers injur’d Greece; with large Encrease
Of added Trojan Wealth to buy the Peace.
But to restore the beauteous Bride again,
This Greece demands, and Troy requests in vain.
Next, O ye Chiefs! we ask a Truce to burn
Our slaughter’d Heroes, and their Bones in-urn.
That done, once more the Fate of War be try’d,
And whose the Conquest, mighty Jove decide!
The Greeks gave ear, but none the Silence broke,
At length Tydides rose, and rising spoke.
Oh take not, Friends! defrauded of your Fame;
Their proffer’d Wealth, nor ev’n the Spartan Dame.
Let Conquest make them ours: Fate shakes their Wall,
And Troy already totters to her Fall.
Th’ admiring Chiefs, and all the Grecian Name,
With gen’ral Shouts return’d him loud Acclaim.
Then thus the King of Kings rejects the Peace:
Herald! in him thou hear’st the Voice of Greece.
For what remains; let Fun’ral Flames be fed
With Heroes Corps: I war not with the Dead:
Go search your slaughter’d Chiefs on yonder Plain,
And gratify the Manes of the slain.
Be witness, Jove! whose Thunder rolls on high.
He said, and rear’d his Sceptre to the Sky.
To sacred Troy, where all her Princes lay
To wait th’ Event, the Herald bent his way.
He came, and standing in the midst, explain’d
The Peace rejected, but the Truce obtain’d.
Strait to their sev’ral Cares the Trojans move,
Some search the Plain, some fell the sounding Grove:
Nor less the Greeks, descending on the Shore,
Hew’d the green Forests, and the Bodies bore.
And now from forth the Chambers of the Main,
To shed his sacred Light on Earth again,
Arose the golden Chariot of the Day,
500And tipt the Mountains with a purple Ray.
In mingled Throngs, the Greek and Trojan Train
Thro’ Heaps of Carnage search’d the mournful Plain.
Scarce could the Friend his slaughter’d Friend explore,
With Dust dishonour’d, and deform’d with Gore.
The Wounds they wash’d, their pious Tears they shed,
And, lay’d along their Cars, deplor’d the dead.
Sage Priam check’d their Grief: With silent Haste
The Bodies decent on the Piles were plac’d:
With melting Hearts the cold Remains they burn’d;
And sadly slow, to sacred Troy return’d.
Nor less the Greeks their pious Sorrows shed,
And decent on the Pile dispose the dead;
The cold Remains consume with equal Care;
And slowly, sadly, to their Fleet repair.
Now, e’re the Morn had streak’d with red’ning Light
The doubtful Confines of the Day and Night;
About the dying Flames the Greeks appear’d,
And round the Pile a gen’ral Tomb they rear’d.
Then, to secure the Camp and Naval Pow’rs,
They rais’d embattel’d Walls with lofty Tow’rs:
From Space to Space were ample Gates around,
For passing Chariots; and a Trench profound,
Of large Extent, and deep in Earth below
Strong Piles infix’d stood adverse to the Foe.
So toil’d the Greeks: Meanwhile the Gods above
In shining Circle round their Father Jove,
Amaz’d beheld the wondrous Works of Man:
Then * He, whose Trident shakes the Earth, began.
What Mortals henceforth shall our Pow’r adore,
Our Fanes frequent, our Oracles implore,
If the proud Grecians thus successful boast
Their rising Bulwarks on the Sea-beat Coast?
See the long Walls extending to the Main,
No God consulted, and no Victim slain!
Their Fame shall fill the World’s remotest Ends,
Wide, as the Morn her golden Beam extends.
While old Laömedon’s divine Abodes,
Those radiant Structures rais’d by lab’ring Gods,
Shall, raz’d and lost, in long Oblivion sleep.
Thus spoke the hoary Monarch of the Deep.
Th’ Almighty Thund’rer with a Frown replies,
That clouds the World, and blackens half the Skies.
Strong God of Ocean! Thou, whose Rage can make
The solid Earth’s eternal Basis shake!
What Cause of Fear from mortal Works, cou’d move
The meanest Subject of our Realms above?
Where-e’er the Sun’s refulgent Rays are cast,
Thy Pow’r is honour’d, and thy Fame shall last.
But yon’ proud Work no future Age shall view,
550No Trace remain where once the Glory grew.
The sapp’d Foundations by thy Force shall fall,
And whelm’d beneath thy Waves, drop the huge Wall:
Vast Drifts of Sand shall change the former Shore;
The Ruin vanish’d, and the Name no more.
Thus they in Heav’n: while, o’er the Grecian Train,
The rolling Sun descending to the Main
Beheld the finish’d Work. Their Bulls they slew;
Black from the Tents the sav’ry Vapors flew.
And now the Fleet, arriv’d from Lemnos’ Strands,
With Bacchus’ Blessings chear’d the gen’rous Bands.
Of fragrant Wines the rich Eunaeus sent
A thousand Measures to the Royal Tent.
( Eunaeus, whom Hypsipyle of yore
To Jason, Shepherd of his People, bore)
The rest they purchas’d at their proper Cost,
And well the plenteous Freight supply’d the Host:
Each, in exchange, proportion’d Treasures gave;
Some Brass or Iron, some an Oxe, or Slave.
All Night they feast, the Greek and Trojan Pow’rs;
Those on the Fields, and these within their Tow’rs.
But Jove averse the Signs of Wrath display’d,
And shot red Light’nings thro’ the gloomy Shade:
Humbled they stood; pale Horror seiz’d on all,
While the deep Thunder shook th’ Aerial Hall.
Each pour’d to Jove before the Bowl was crown’d,
And large Libations drench’d the thirsty Ground;
Then late refresh’d with Sleep from Toils of Fight,
Enjoy’d the balmy Blessings of the Night.
Observations on the 7th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
Note I.
VERSE 2. THRO’ the Scaean Gate. ]
This Gate is not here particularized by Homer, but it appears by the 393d Verse of the sixth Book that it could be no other. Eustathius takes notice of the Difference of the Words [Greek]and [Greek], the one apply’d to Hector, the other to Paris: by which the Motion of the former is described as an impetuous sallying forth, agreeable to the Violence of a Warrior; and that of the latter as a calmer Movement, correspondent to the gentler Character of a Lover. But perhaps this Remark is too refined, since Homer plainly gives Paris a Character of Bravery in what immediately precedes and follows this Verse.
Note II.
VERSE 5. As when to Sailors, &c.]
This Simile makes it plain that the Battel had relax’d during the Absence of Hector in Troy; and consequently that the Conversation of Diomed and Glaucus in the former Book, was not (as Homer’s Censurers would have it) in the Heat of the Engagement.
Note III.
VERSE 23. When now Minerva, &c.]
This Machine of the two Deities meeting to part the Armies is very noble. Eustathius tells us it is an allegorical Minerva and Apollo: Minerva represents the prudent Valour of the Greeks, and Apollo who stood for the Trojans, the Power of Destiny: So that the Meaning of the Allegory may be, that the Valour and Wisdom of the Greeks had now conquer’d Troy, had not Destiny withstood. Minerva therefore complies with Apollo, an Intimation that Wisdom can never oppose Fate. But if you take them in the literal Sense as a real God and Goddess, it may be ask’d what Necessity there was for the Introduction of two such Deities? To this Eustathius answers, that the last Book was the only one in which both Armies were destitute of the Aid of the Gods: In Consequence of which there is no gallant Action atchiev’d, nothing extraordinary done, especially after the Retreat of Hector; but here the Gods are again introduced to usher in a new Scene of great Actions. The same Author offers this other Solution: Hector finding the Trojan Army overpower’d, considers how to stop the Fury of rhe present Battel; this he thinks may best be done by the Proposal of a single Combate: Thus Minerva by a very easy and natural Fiction may signify that Wisdom or Courage (she being the Goddess of both) which suggests the Necessity of diverting the War; and Apollo, that seasonable Stratagem by which he effected it.
Note IV.
VERSE 37. Vengesul Goddesses. ]
[Greek]in this Place must signify Minerva and Juno, the Word being of the feminine Gender. Eustathius.
Note V.
VERSE 48. Sage Helenus their sacred Counsels knew. ]
Helenus was the Priest of Apollo, and might therefore be suppos’d to be informed of this by his God, or taught by an Oracle that such was his Will. Or else being an Augur, he might learn it from the Flight of those Birds, into which the Deities are here feigned to transform themselves, (perhaps for that Reason, as it would be a very Poetical manner of expressing it.) The Fiction of these Divinities sitting on the Beech-Tree in the Shape of Vulturs, is imitated by Milton in the fourth Book of Paradise Lost, where Satan leaping over the Boundaries of Eden sits in the Form of a Cormorant upon the Tree of Life.
Note VI.
VERSE 57. For not this Day shall end thy glorious Date. ]
Eustathius justly observes that Homer here takes from the Greatness of Hector’s Intrepidity, by making him foreknow that he should not fall in this Combate; whereas Ajax encounters him without any such Encouragement. It may perhaps be difficult to give a Reason for this Management of the Poet, unless we ascribe it to that commendable Prejudice, and honourable Partiality he bears his Countrymen, which makes him give a Superiority of Courage to the Heroes of his own Nation.
Note VII.
VERSE 60. Then with his Spear restrain’d the Youth of Troy, Held by the midst athwart.— ]
The Remark of Eustathius here is observable: He tells us that the Warriors of those Times (having no Trumpets, and because the Voice of the loudest Herald would be drown’d in the Noise of a Battel) address’d themselves to the Eyes, and that grasping the middle of the Spear denoted a Request that the Fight might a while be suspended; the holding the Spear in that Position not being the Posture of a Warrior; and thus Agamemnon understands it without any farther Explication. But however it be, we have a lively Picture of a General who stretches his Spear across, and presses back the most advanced Soldiers of his Army.
Note VIII.
VERSE 71. As when a gen’ral Darkness, &c.]
The thick Ranks of the Troops composing themselves, in order to sit and hear what Hector was about to propose, are compared to the Waves of the Sea that are just stirr’d by the West Wind; the Simile partly consisting in the Darkness and Stillness. This is plainly different from those Images of the Sea, given us on other Occasions, where the Armies in their Engagement and Confusion are compared to the Waves in their Agitation and Tumult: And that the contrary is the Drift of this Simile appears particularly from Homer’s using the Word [Greek]sedebant, twice in the Application of it. All the other Versions seem to be mistaken here: What caused the Difficulty was the Expression [Greek], which may signify the West Wind blowing on a sudden, as well as first rising. But the Design of Homer was to convey an Image both of the gentle Motion that arose over the Field from the Helmets and Spears before their Armies were quite settled; and of the Repose and Awe which ensued, when Hector began to speak.
Note IX.
VERSE 79. Hear all ye Trojan, all ye Grecian Bands. ]
The Appearance of Hector, his formal Challenge, and the Affright of the Greeks upon it, have a near Resemblance to the Description of the Challenge of Goliah in the first Book of Samuel, Ch. 17.
And he stood and cried to the Armies of Israel —Chuse you a Man for you, and let him come down to me. If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, then will we be your Servants: but if I prevail against him, and kill him, then shall ye be our Servants.—When Saul and all Israel heard the Words of the Philistinc, they were dismayed, and greatly afraid, &c.
There is a fine Air of Gallantry and Bravery in this Challenge of Hector. If he seems to speak too vainly, we should consider him under the Character of a Challenger, whose Business it is to defy the Enemy. Yet at the same time we find a decent Modesty in his manner of expressing the Conditions of the Combate: He says simply, If my Enemy kills me; but of himself, If Apollo grant me Victory. It was an Imagination equally agreeable to a Man of Generosity and a Lover of Glory, to mention the Monument to be erected over his vanquish’d Enemy; tho’ we see he considers it not so much an Honour paid to the Conquer’d as a Trophie to the Conqueror. It was natural too to dwell most upon the Thought that pleas’d him best, for he takes no notice of any Monument that should be raised over himself if he should fall unfortunately. He no sooner allows himself to expatiate, but the Prospect of Glory carries him away thus far beyond his first Intention, which was only to allow the Enemy liberty to inter their Champion with Decency.
Note X.
VERSE 96. On Phoebus’ Temple I’ll his Arms bestow. ]
It was the Manner of the Ancients to dedicate Trophies of this kind to the Temples of the Gods. The particular Reason for consecrating the Arms in this Place to Apollo, is not only as he was the constant Protector of Troy, but as this Thought of the Challenge was inspired by him.
Note XI.
VERSE 98. Greece on the Shore shall raise a Monument. ]
Homer took the Hint of this from several Tombs of the ancient Heroes who had fought at Troy, remaining in his time upon the Shore of the Hellespont. He gives that Sea the Epithet broad, to distinguish the particular Place of those Tombs, which was on the Rhoetean or Sigaean Coast, where the Hellespont (which in other Parts is narrow) opens itself to the Aegean Sea. Strabo gives an Account of the Monument of Ajax near Rhoeteum, and of Achilles at the Promontory of Sigaeum. This is one among a thousand Proofs of our Author’s exact Knowledge in Geography and Antiquities. Time (says Eustathius ) has destroy’d those Tombs which were to have preserv’d Hector’s Glory, but Homer’s Poetry more lasting than Monuments and Proof against Ages, will for ever support and convey it to the latest Posterity.
Note XII.
VERSE 105. All Greece astonish’d heard. ]
It seems natural to enquire, why the Greeks, before they accepted Hector’s Challenge, did not demand Reparation for the former Treachery of Pandarus, and insist upon delivering up the Author of it; which had been the shortest way for the Trojans to have wip’d off that Stain: It was very reasonable for the Greeks to reply to this Challenge, that they could not venture a second single Combate for fear of such another insidious Attempt upon their Champion. And indeed I wonder that Nestor did not think of this Excuse for his Countrymen, when they were so backward to engage. One may make some sort of answer to this, if we consider the Clearness of Hector’s Character, and his Words at the beginning of the foregoing Speech, where he first complains of the Revival of the War as a Misfortune common to them both (which is at once very artful and decent) and lays the blame of it upon Jupiter. Tho’, by the way, his charging the Trojans Breach of Faith upon the Deity looks a little like the reasoning of some modern Saints in the Doctrine of absolute Reprobation, making God the Author of Sin, and may serve for some Instance of the Antiquity of that false Tenet.
Note XIII.
VERSE 109. Women of Greece! &c.]
There is a great deal of Fire in this Speech of Menelaus, which very well agrees with his Character and Circumstances. Methinks while he speaks one sees him in a Posture of Emotion, pointing with Contempt at the Commanders about him. He upbraids their Cowardice, and wishes they may become (according to the literal Words) Earth and Water: that is, be resolved into those Principles they sprung from, or die. Thus Eustathius explains it very exactly from a Verse he cites of Zenophanes.
[Greek]
Note XIV.
VERSE 131. Ev’n fierce Achilles learn’d his Force to fear. ]
The Poet every where takes occasion to set the brotherly Love of Agamemnon toward Menelaus in the most agreeable Light: When Menelaus is wounded, Agamemnon is more concern’d than He; and here dissuades him from a Danger, which he offers immediately after to undertake himself. He makes use of Hector’s superior Courage to bring him to a Compliance; and tells him that even Achilles dares not engage with Hector. This (says Eustathius ) is not true, but only the Affection for his Brother thus breaks out into a kind Extravagance. Agamemnon likewise consults the Honour of Menelaus, for it will be no Disgrace to him to decline encountering a Man whom Achilles himself is afraid of. Thus he artfully provides for his Safety and Honour at the same time.
Note XV.
VERSE 135. The mightiest Warrior, &c.]
It cannot with Certainty be concluded from the Words of Homer, who is the Person to whom Agamemnon applies the last Lines of this Speech; the Interpreters leave it as undetermin’d in their Translations as it is in the Original. Some would have it understood of Hector, that the Greeks would send such an Antagonist against him, from whose Hands Hector might be glad to escape. But this Interpretation seems contrary to the plain Design of Agamemnon’s Discourse, which only aims to deter his Brother from so rash an Undertaking as engaging with Hector. So that instead of dropping any Expression which might depreciate the Power or Courage of this Hero, he endeavours rather to represent him as the most formidable of Men, and dreadful even to Achilles. This Passage therefore will be most consistent with Agamemnon’s Design, if it be consider’d as an Argument offer’d to Menelaus, at once to dissuade him from the Engagement, and to comfort him under the Appearance of so great a Disgrace as refusing the Challenge; by telling him that any Warrior, how bold and intrepid soever, might be content to sit still and rejoice that he is not expos’d to so hazardous an Engagement. The Words [Greek], signify not to escape out of the Combate (as the Translators take it) but to avoid entring into it.
The Phrase of [Greek], which is literally to bend the Knee, means (according to Eustathius ) to rest, to sit down, [Greek], and is used so by Aeschylus in Prometheo. Those Interpreters were greatly mistaken who imagin’d it signify’d to kneel down, to thank the Gods for escaping from such a Combate; whereas the Custom of kneeling in Prayer (as we before observ’d) was not in use among these Nations.
Note XVI.
VERSE 145. The Speech of Nestor.]
This Speech, if we consider the Occasion of it, could be made by no Person but Nestor. No young Warrior could with Decency exhort others to undertake a Combate which himself declin’d. Nothing could be more in his Character than to represent to the Greeks how much they would suffer in the Opinion of another old Man like himself. In naming Peleus he sets before their Eyes the Expectations of all their Fathers, and the Shame that must afflict them in their old Age if their Sons behaved themselves unworthily. The Account he gives of the Conversations he had formerly held with that King, and his Jealousy for the Glory of Greece, is a very natural Picture of the warm Dialogues of two old Warriors upon the Commencement of a new War. Upon the whole, Nestor never more displays his Oratory than in this Place: You see him rising with a Sigh, expressing a pathetick Sorrow, and wishing again for his Youth that he might wipe away this Disgrace from his Country. The Humour of Story-telling, so natural to old Men, is almost always mark’d by Homer in the Speeches of Nestor. The Apprehension that their Age makes them contemptible, puts them upon repeating the brave Deeds of their Youth. Plutarch justifies the Praises Nestor here gives himself, and the Vaunts of his Valour, which on this Occasion were only Exhortations to those he address’d them to: By these he restores Courage to the Greeks who were astonish’d at the bold Challenge of Hector, and causes nine of the Princes to rise and accept it. If any Man had a right to commend himself, it was this venerable Prince, who in relating his own Actions did no more than propose Examples of Virtue to the Young. Virgil, without any such softening Qualification, makes his Hero say of himself,
Sum pius Aeneas, fama super aethera notus.
And comfort a dying Warrior with these Words,
Aeneae magni dextra cadis.—
The same Author also imitates the Wish of Nestor for a Return of his Youth, where Evander cries out,
O mihi praeteritos referat si Jupiter annos! Qualis eram, cum primam aciem Praeneste sub ipsa Stravi, scutorumque incendi Victor acervos, Et regem hac Herilum dextra sub Tartara misi!
As for the Narration of the Arcadian War introduced here, it is a Part of the true History of those Times, as we are inform’d by Pausanias.
Note XVII.
VERSE 177. Those Arms which Mars before Had giv’n. ]
Homer has the peculiar Happiness of being able to raise the obscurest Circumstance into the strongest Point of Light. Areithous had taken these Arms in Battel, and this gives occasion to our Author to say they were the Present of Mars. Eustathius.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 188. Prone fell the Giant o’er a Length of Ground. ]
Nestor’s insisting upon this Circumstance of the Fall of Ereuthalion, which paints his vast Body lying extended on the Earth, has a particular Beauty in it, and recalls into the old Man’s Mind the Joy he felt on the Sight of his Enemy after he was slain. These are the fine and natural Strokes that give Life to the Descriptions of Poetry.
Note XIX.
VERSE 195. And nine, the noblest, &c.]
In this Catalogue of the nine Warriors, who offer themselves as Champions for Greece, one may take notice of the first and the last who rises up. Agamemnon advanced foremost, as it best became the General, and Ulysses with his usual Caution took time to deliberate till seven more had offer’d themselves. Homer gives a great Encomium of the Eloquence of Nestor in making it produce so sudden an Effect; especially when Agamemnon, who did not proffer himself before, even to save his Brother, is now the first that steps forth: One would fancy this particular Circumstance was contrived to shew, that Eloquence has a greater Power than even Nature itself.
Note XX.
VERSE 207. Let the Lots decide. ]
This was a very prudent Piece of Conduct in Nestor: he does not chuse any of these nine himself, but leaves the Determination entirely to Chance. Had he named the Hero, the rest might have been griev’d to have seen another prefer’d before them; and he well knew that the Lot could not fall upon a wrong Person, where all were valiant. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 208. Whom Heav’n shall chuse, be his the Chance to raise His Country’s Fame, his own immortal Praise. ]
The Original of this Passage is somewhat confused; the Interpreters render it thus: Cast the Lots, and he who shall be chosen, if he escapes from this dangerous Combate, will do an eminent Service to the Greeks, and also have cause to be greatly satisfied himself. But the Sense will appear more distinct and rational if the Words [Greek]and [Greek]be not understood of the same Person: and the Meaning of Nestor will then be, he who is chosen for the Engagement by the Lot, will do his Country great Service, and he likewise who is not, will have reason to rejoice for escaping so dangerous a Combate. The Expression [Greek], is the same Homer uses in ℣. 118, 119. of this Book, which we explain’d in the same Sense in Note 15.
Note XXII.
VERSE 212. The People pray. ]
Homer who supposes every thing on Earth to proceed from the immediate Disposition of Heaven, allows not even the Lots to come up by Chance, but places them in the Hands of God. The People pray to him for the Disposal of them, and beg that Ajax, Diomed, or Agamemnon may be the Person. In which the Poet seems to make the Army give his own Sentiments, concerning the Preference of Valour in his Heroes, to avoid an odious Comparison in downright Terms, which might have been inconsistent with his Design of complementing the Grecian Families. They afterwards offer up their Prayers again, just as the Combate is beginning, that if Ajax does not conquer, at least he may divide the Glory with Hector; in which the Commentators observe Homer prepares the Readers for what is to happen in the Sequel.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 224. Surveys th’ Inscription. ]
There is no Necessity to suppose that they put any Letters upon these Lots, at least not their Names, because the Herald could not tell to whom the Lot of Ajax belong’d, till he claim’d it himself. It is more probable that they made some private Mark or Signet each upon his own Lot. The Lot was only a Piece of Wood, a Shell, or any thing that lay at hand. Eustathius.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 226. Warriors! I claim the Lot. ]
This is the first Speech of Ajax in the Iliad. He is no Orator, but always expresses himself in short, generally bragging, or threatning, and very positive. The Appellation of [Greek], the Bulwark of the Greeks, which Homer almost constantly gives him, is extremely proper to the Bulk, Strength, and Immobility of this heavy Hero, who on all Occasions is made to stand to the Business, and support the Brunt. These Qualifications are given him, that he may last out, when the rest of the chief Heroes are wounded. This makes him of excellent Use in Iliad 13, &c. He there puts a Stop to the whole Force of the Enemy, and a long time prevents the firing of the Ships. It is particularly observable that he is never assisted by any Deity as the others are. Yet one would think Mars had been no improper Patron for him, there being some Resemblance in the boisterous Character of that God and this Hero. However it be, this Consideration may partly account for a Particular which else might very well raise a Question: Why Ajax, who is in this Book superior in Strength to Hector, should afterward in the Iliad shun to meet him, and appear his Inferior? We see the Gods make this difference: Hector is not only assisted by them in his own Person, but his Men second him, whereas those of Ajax are dispirited by Heaven: To which one may add another which is a natural Reason, Hector in this Book expresly tells Ajax he will now make use of no Skill or Art in Fighting with him. The Greek in bare brutal Strength prov’d too hard for Hector, and therefore he might be suppos’d afterwards to have exerted his Dexterity against him.
Note XXV.
VERSE 250. He moves to Combate, &c.]
This Description is full of the sublime Imagery so peculiar to our Author. The Grecian Champion is drawn in all that terrible Glory with which he equals his Heroes to the Gods: He is no less dreadful than Mars moving to Battel to execute the Decrees of Jove upon Mankind, and determine the Fate of Nations. His March, his Posture, his Countenance, his Bulk, his Tow’r-like Shield, in a word, his whole Figure strikes our Eyes in all the strongest Colours of Poetry. We look upon him as a Deity, and are not astonish’d at those Emotions which Hector feels at the Sight of him.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 269. The Work of Tychius.]
I shall ask leave to transcribe here the Story of this Tychius, as we have it in the ancient Life of Homer attributed to Herodotus.
" Homer falling into Poverty, determined to go to Cuma, and as he past thro’ the Plain of Hermus, came to a Place called The New Wall, which was a Colony of the Cumaeans. Here ( after he had recited five Verses in Celebration of Cuma) he was received by a Leather-dresser, whose Name was Tychius, into his House, where he shew’d to his Host and his Company, a Poem on the Expedition of Amphiaraus, and his Hymns. The Admiration he there obtain’d procur’d him a present Subsistance. They shew to this Day with great Veneration the Place where he sate when he recited his Verses, and a Poplar which they affirm to have grown there in his Time."
If there be any thing in this Story, we have reason to be pleas’d with the grateful Temper of our Poet, who took this Occasion of immortalizing the Name of an ordinary Tradesman, who had obliged him. The same Account of his Life takes notice of several other Instances of his Gratitude in the same kind.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 270. In Arts of Armoury. ]
I have called Tychius an Armourer rather than a Leather-dresser or Currier; his making the Shield of Ajax authorizes one Expression as well as the other; and tho’ that which Homer uses had no Lowness or Vulgarity in the Greek, it was not to be admitted into English heroic Verse.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 273. Hector, approach my Arm, &c.]
I think it needless to observe how exactly this Speech of Ajax corresponds with his blunt and Soldier-like Character. The same Propriety, in regard to this Hero, is maintained throughout the Iliad. The Business he is about is all that employs his Head, and he speaks of nothing but Fighting. The last Line is an Image of his Mind at all times,
No more—be sudden, and begin the Fight.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 285. Me, as a Boy or Woman, would’st thou fright? ]
This Reply of Hector seems rather to allude to some Action Ajax had used in his Approach to him, as shaking his Spear, or the like, than to any thing he had said in his Speech. For what he had told him amounts to no more than that there were several in the Grecian Army who had courted the Honour of this Combate as well as himself. I think one must observe many things of this kind in Homer, that allude to the particular Attitude or Action in which the Author supposes the Person to be in at that time.
Note XXX.
VERSE 290. Turn, charge, and answer ev’ry Call of War. ]
The Greek is, To move my Feet to the Sound of Mars, which seems to shew that those military Dances were in Use even in Homer’s Time, which were afterwards practised in Greece.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 305. From their bor’d Shields the Chiefs their Javelins drew. ]
Homer in this Combate makes his Heroes perform all their Exercises with all sorts of Weapons; first darting Lances at distance, then advancing closer, and pushing with Spears, then casting Stones, and lastly attacking with Swords; in every one of which the Poet gives the Superiority to his Countryman. It is farther observable (as Eustathius remarks) that Ajax allows Hector an Advantage in throwing the first Spear.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 328. Apollo ’s Might. ]
In the beginning of this Book we left Apollo perch’d upon a Tree, in the Shape of a Vultur, to behold the Combate: He comes now very opportunely to save his Favourite Hector. Eustathius says that Apollo is the same with Destiny, so that when Homer says Apollo sav’d him, he means no more than that it was not his Fate yet to die, as Helenus had foretold him.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 332. Heralds, the sacred Ministers, &c.]
The Heralds of old were sacred Persons, accounted the Delegates of Mercury, and inviolable by the Law of Nations. The ancient Histories have many Examples of the Severity exercised against those who committed any Outrage upon them. Their Office was to assist in the Sacrifices and Councils, to proclaim War or Peace, to command Silence at Ceremonies or single Combates, to part the Combatants, and to declare the Conqueror, &c.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 334. Divine Talthybius, &c.]
This Interposition of the two Heralds to part the Combatants, on the Approach of the Night, is apply’d by Tasso to the single Combate of Tancred and Argantes in the sixth Book of his Jerusalem. The Herald’s Speech, and particularly that remarkable Injunction to Obey the Night, are translated literally by that Author. The Combatants there also part not without a Promise of meeting again in Battel, on some more favourable Opportunity.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 337. And first Idaeus.]
Homer observes a just Decorum in making Idaeus the Trojan Herald speak first, to end the Combate wherein Hector had the Disadvantage. Ajax is very sensible of this Difference, when in his Reply he requires that Hector should first ask for a Cessation, as he was the Challenger. Eustathius.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 350. O first of Greeks, &c.]
Hector, how hardly soever he is prest by his present Circumstance, says nothing to obtain a Truce that is not strictly consistent with his Honour. When he praises Ajax, it lessens his own Disadvantage, and he is careful to extol him only above the Greeks, without acknowledging him more valiant than himself or the Trojans: Hector is always jealous of the Honour of his Country. In what follows we see he keeps himself on a level with his Adversary; Hereafter we shall meet.—Go thou, and give the same Joy to thy Grecians for thy Escape, as I shall to my Trojans. The Point of Honour in all this is very nicely preserved.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 362. Who wearies Heav’n with Vows for Hector ’s Life. ]
Eustathius gives many Solutions of the Difficulty in these Words, [Greek]: They mean either that the Trojan Ladies will pray to the Gods for him ( [Greek], or certatim ) with the utmost Zeal and Transport; or that they will go in Procession to the Temples for him ( [Greek]coetum Deorum; ) or that they will pray to him as to a God, [Greek]
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 364. Exchange some Gift. ]
There is nothing that gives us a greater Pleasure in reading an heroic Poem, than the Generosity, which one brave Enemy shews to another. The Proposal made here by Hector, and so readily embraced by Ajax, makes the Parting of these two Heroes more glorious to them than the Continuance of the Combate had been. A French Critick is shock’d at Hector’s making Proposals to Ajax with an Air of Equality; he says a Man that is vanquish’d, instead of talking of Presents, ought to retire with Shame from his Conqueror. But that Hector was vanquish’d is by no means to be allowed; Homer had told us that his Strength was restored by Apollo, and that the two Combatants were engaging again upon equal Terms with their Swords. So that this Criticism falls to nothing. For the rest, ’tis said that this Exchange of Presents between Hector and Ajax gave Birth to a Proverb, that the Presents of Enemies are generally fatal. For Ajax with this Sword afterwards killed himself, and Hector was dragg’d by this Belt at the Chariot of Achilles.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 387. Before great Ajax plac’d the mighty Chine. ]
This is one of those Passages that will naturally fall under the Ridicule of a true modern Critick. But what Agamemnon here bestows on Ajax was in former Times a great Mark of Respect and Honour: Not only as it was customary to distinguish the Quality of their Guests by the Largeness of the Portions assigned them at their Tables, but as this Part of the Victim peculiarly belong’d to the King himself. It is worth remarking on this Occasion, that the Simplicity of those Times allowed the eating of no other Flesh but Beef, Mutton, or Kid. This is the Food of the Heroes of Homer, and the Patriarchs and Warriors of the Old Testament. Fishing and Fowling were the Arts of more luxurious Nations, and came much later into Greece and Israel. One cannot read this Passage without being pleased with the wonderful Simplicity of the old heroic Ages. We have here a gallant Warrior returning victorious (for that he thought himself so, appears from those Words [Greek]) from a single Combate with the bravest of his Enemies; and he is no otherwise rewarded than with a larger Portion of the Sacrifice at Supper. Thus an upper Seat or a more capacious Bowl was a Recompence for the greatest Actions; and thus the only Reward in the Olympic Games was a Pine-Branch, or a Chaplet of Parsley or wild Olive. The latter Part of this Note belongs to Eustathius.
Note XL.
VERSE 399. While we to Flames, &c.]
There is a great deal of Artifice in this Counsel of Nestor of burning the Dead and raising a Fortification; for tho’ Piety was the specious Pretext, their Security was the real Aim of the Truce, which they made use of to finish their Works. Their doing this at the same time they erected the Funeral Piles, made the Imposition easy upon the Enemy, who might naturally mistake one Work for the other. And this also obviates a plain Objection, viz. Why the Trojans did not interrupt them in this Work? The Truce determined no exact Time, but as much as was needful for discharging the Rites of the Dead.
I fancy it may not be unwelcome to the Reader to enlarge a little upon the way of disposing the Dead among the Ancients. It may be proved from innumerable Instances that the Hebrews interred their Dead; thus Abraham’s Burying-place is frequently mentioned in Scripture: And that the Aegyptians did the same is plain from their embalming them. Some have been of Opinion that the Usage of Burning the Dead was originally to prevent any Outrage to the Bodies from their Enemies; which Imagination is render’d not improbable by that Passage in the first Book of Samuel, where the Israelites burn the Bodies of Saul and his Sons after they had been misused by the Philistines, even tho’ their common Custom was to bury their Dead. And so Sylla among the Romans was the first of his Family who order’d his Body to be burnt, for fear the Barbarities he had exercised on that of Marius might be retaliated upon his own. Tully de legibus, lib. 2.
Proculdubio cremandi ritus a Graecis venit, nam sepultum legimus Numam ad Anienis fontem; totique genti Corneliae
solenne fuisse sepulcrum, usque ad Syllam, qui primus ex ea gente crematus est.
The Greeks used both ways of interring and burning; Patroclus was burned, and Ajax lay’d in the Ground, as appears from Sophocles’s Ajax, lin. 1185.
[Greek]—
Hasten (says the Chorus) to prepare a hollow Hole, a Grave for this Man.
Thucidydes in his second Book mentions [Greek]: Coffins or Chests made of Cypress Wood, in which the Athenians kept the Bones of their Friends that dy’d in the Wars.
The Romans derived from the Greeks both these Customs of burning and burying: In Urbe neve SEPELITO neve URITO, says the Law of the Twelve Tables. The Place where they burn’d the Dead was set apart for this religious Use, and called Glebe; from which Practice the Name is yet apply’d to all the Grounds belonging to the Church.
Plutarch observes that Homer is the first who mentions one general Tomb for a Number of dead Persons. Here is a Tumulus built round the Pyre, not to bury their Bodies, for they were to be burn’d; nor to receive the Bones, for those were to be carry’d to Greece; but perhaps to inter their Ashes, (which Custom may be gather’d from a Passage in Iliad 23. ℣. 255.) or it might be only a Cenotaph in Remembrance of the Dead.
Note XLI.
VERSE 415. The Trojan Peers in nightly Council sate. ]
There is a great Beauty in the two Epithets Homer gives to this Council, [Greek]timida, turbulenta. The unjust side is always fearful and discordant. I think M. Dacier has not entirely done Justice to this Thought in her Translation. Horace seems to have accounted this an useful and necessary Part, that contain’d the great Moral of the Iliad, as may be seen from his selecting it in particular from the rest, in his Epistle to Lollius.
Fabula, qua Paridis propter narratur amorem, Graecia Barbariae lento collisa duello, Stultorum Regum & populorum continet aestus. Antenor censet belli praecidere causam. Quid Paris? Ut salvus regnet, vivatque beatus, Cogi posse negat.—
Note XLII.
VERSE 441. The rev’rend Priam rose. ]
Priam rejects the wholsome Advice of Antenor, and complies with his Son. This is indeed extremely natural to the indulgent Character and easy Nature of the old King, of which the whole Trojan War is a Proof; but I could wish Homer had not just in this Place celebrated his Wisdom in calling him [Greek]Spondanus refers this Blindness of Priam to the Power of Fate, the Time now approaching when Troy was to be punish’d for its Injustice. Something like this weak Fondness of a Father is described in the Scripture in the Story of David and Absalom.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 450. Next let a Truce be ask’d. ]
The Conduct of Homer in this Place is remarkable: He makes Priam propose in Council to send to the Greeks to ask a Truce to bury the Dead. This the Greeks themselves had before determined to propose: But it being more honourable to his Country, the Poet makes the Trojan Herald prevent any Proposition that could be made by the Greeks. Thus they are requested to do what they themselves were about to request, and have the Honour to comply with a Proposal which they themselves would otherwise have taken as a Favour. Eustathius.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 455. Each at his Post in Arms. ]
We have here the manner of the Trojans taking their Repast: Not promiscuously, but each at his Post. Homer was sensible that military Men ought not to remit their Guard, even while they refresh themselves, but in every Action display the Soldier. Eustathius.
Note XLV.
VERSE 460. The Speech of Idaeus.]
The Proposition of restoring the Treasures, and not Helen, is sent as from Paris only; in which his Father seems to permit him to treat by himself as a Sovereign Prince, and the sole Author of the War. But the Herald seems to exceed his Commission in what he tells the Greeks. Paris only offer’d to restore the Treasures he took from Greece, not including those he brought from Sidon and other Coasts, where he touch’d in his Voyage: But Idaeus here proffers all that he brought to Troy. He adds, as from himself, a Wish that Paris had perish’d in that Voyage. Some ancient Expositors suppose those Words to be spoken aside, or in a low Voice, as it is usual in Dramatic Poetry. But without that Salvo, a generous Love for the Welfare of his Country might transport Idaeus into some warm Expressions against the Author of its Woes. He lays aside the Herald to act the Patriot, and speaks with a noble Indignation against Paris, that he may Influence the Grecian Captains to give a favourable Answer. Eustathius.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 474. The Greeks gave ear, but none the Silence broke. ]
This Silence of the Greeks might naturally proceed from their Opinion that however desirous they were to put an end to this long War, Menelaus would never consent to relinquish Helen, which was the thing insisted upon by Paris. Eustathius accounts for it in another manner, and it is from him M. Dacier has taken her Remark. The Princes (says he) were silent, because it was the Part of Agamemnon to determine in Matters of this Nature; and Agamemnon is silent, being willing to hear the Inclinations of the Princes. By this means he avoided the Imputation of exposing the Greeks to Dangers for his Advantage and Glory; since he only gives the Answer which is put into his Mouth by the Princes, with the general Applause of the Army.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 476. Oh take not, Greeks! &c.]
There is a peculiar Decorum in making Diomed the Author of this Advice, to reject even Helen herself if she were offer’d; this had not agreed with an amorous Husband like Menelaus, nor with a cunning Politician like Ulysses, nor with a wise old Man like Nestor. But it is proper to Diomed, not only as a young fearless Warrior, but as he is in particular an Enemy to the Interests of Venus.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 507. And lay’d along the Cars. ]
These probably were not Chariots, but Carriages; for Homer makes Nestor say in ℣. 332. that this was to be done with Mules and Oxen, which were not commonly join’d to Chariots, and the word [Greek]there, may be apply’d to any Vehicle that runs on Wheels. [Greek]signifies indifferently Plaustrum or Currus; and our English word Car implies either. But if they did use Chariots in bearing their Dead, it is at least evident, that those Chariots were drawn by Mules and Oxen at Funeral Solemnities. Homer’s using the word [Greek]and not [Greek], confirms this Opinion.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 520. Then, to secure the Camp, &c.]
Homer has been accus’d of an Offence against Probability, in causing this Fortification to be made so late as in the last Year of the War. Mad. Dacier answers to this Objection, that the Greeks had no Occasion for it till the Departure of Achilles: He alone was a greater Defence to them; and Homer had told the Reader in a preceding Book, that the Trojans never durst venture out of the Walls of Troy while Achilles fought: These Intrenchments therefore serve to raise the Glory of his principal Hero, since they become necessary as soon as he withdraws his Aid. She might have added, that Achilles himself says all this, and makes Homer’s Apology in the ninth Book, ℣. 349. The same Author, speaking of this Fortification, seems to doubt whether the Use of intrenching Camps was known in the Trojan War, and is rather inclined to think Homer borrowed it from what was practised in his own Time. But I believe if we consider the Caution with which he has been observed, in some Instances already given, to preserve the Manners of the Age he writes of, in Contradistinction to what was practised in his own; we may reasonably conclude the Art of Fortification was in use even so long before him, and in the Degree of Perfection that he here describes it. If it was not, and if Homer was fond of describing an Improvement in this Art made in his own Days, nothing could be better contrived than his feigning Nestor to be the Author of it, whose Wisdom and Experience in War render’d it probable that he might carry his Projects farther than the rest of his Contemporaries. We have here a Fortification as perfect as any in the modern Times. A strong Wall is thrown up, Towers are built upon it from Space to Space, Gates are made to issue out at, and a Ditch sunk, deep, wide and long: to all which Palisades are added to compleat it.
Note L.
VERSE 526. Meanwhile the Gods. ]
The Fiction of this Wall raised by the Greeks, has given no little Advantage to Homer’s Poem, in furnishing him with an Opportunity of changing the Scene, and in a great degree the Subject and Accidents of his Battels; so that the following Descriptions of War are totally different from all the foregoing. He takes care at the first mention of it to fix in us a great Idea of this Work, by making the Gods immediately concern’d about it. We see Neptune jealous lest the Glory of his own Work, the Walls of Troy, should be effaced by it; and Jupiter comforting him with a Prophecy that it shall be totally destroy’d in a short time. Homer was sensible that as this was a Building of his Imagination only, and not founded (like many other of his Descriptions) upon some Antiquities or Traditions of the Country, so Posterity might convict him of a Falsity when no Remains of any such Wall should be seen on the Coast. Therefore (as Aristotle observes) he has found this way to elude the Censure of an improbable Fiction: The Word of Jove was fulfilled, the Hands of the Gods, the Force of the Rivers, and the Waves of the Sea demolish’d it. In the twelfth Book he digresses from the Subject of his Poem to describe the Execution of this Prophecy. The Verses there are very noble, and have given the Hint to Milton for those in which he accounts, after the same Poetical manner, for the Vanishing of the Terrestrial Paradise.
—All Fountains of the Deep Broke up, shall heave the Ocean to usurp Beyond all bounds, till Inundation rise Above the highest Hills: Then shall this Mount Of Paradise by Might of Waves be mov’d Out of its place, push’d by the horned Flood, With all its Verdure spoil’d, and Trees adrift, Down the great River to the opening Gulf, And there take root an Island salt and bare, The Haunt of Seals and Orcs, and Sea-mews clang.
Note LI.
VERSE 560. And now the Fleet, &c.]
The Verses from hence to the end of the Book afford us the Knowledge of some Points of History and Antiquity. As that Jason had a Son by Hypsipyle, who succeeded his Mother in the Kingdom of Lemnos. That the Isle of Lemnos was anciently famous for its Wines, and drove a Traffick in them; and that coined Money was not in use in the Time of the Trojan War, but the Trade of Countries carry’d on by Exchange in gross, Brass, Oxen, Slaves, &c. I must not forget the particular Term used here for Slave, [Greek], which is literally the same with our modern word Footman.
Note LII.
VERSE 572. But Jove averse, &c.]
The Signs by which Jupiter here shews his Wrath against the Grecians, are a Prelude to those more open Declarations of his Anger which follow in the next Book, and prepare the Mind of the Reader for that Machine, which might otherwise seem too bold and violent.
Book VIII THE EIGHTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
JUPITER assembles a Council of the Deities, and threatens them with the Pains of Tartarus if they assist either side: Minerva only obtains of him that she may direct the Greeks by her Counsels. The Armies join Battel; Jupiter on Mount Ida weighs in his Balances the Fates of both, and affrights the Greeks with his Thunders and Lightnings. Nestor alone continues in the Field in great Danger; Diomed relieves him; whose Exploits, and those of Hector, are excellently described. Juno endeavours to animate Neptune to the Assistance of the Greeks, but in vain. The Acts of Teucer, who is at length wounded by Hector and carry’d off. Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians, but are restrained by Iris, sent from Jupiter. The Night puts an end to the Battel. Hector keeps the Field (the Greeks being driven to their Fortification before the Ships) and gives Orders to keep the Watch all Night in the Camp, to prevent the Enemy from reimbarking and escaping by Flight. They kindle Fires through all the Field, and pass the Night under Arms. The Time of seven and twenty Days is employed from the Opening of the Poem to the End of this Book. The Scene here (except of the Celestial Machines) lies in the Field toward the Sea Shore.
Index to The Argument
- [1-34] Jupiter forbids divine intervention
- [35-46] Minerva gains leave to offer counsel
- [47-86] Jupiter departs for Ida; the armies clash
- [87-102] Jupiter weighs the fates; the Greeks are routed
- [103-124] Nestor is stranded and imperiled by Hector
- [125-158] Diomed rescues Nestor; they attack Hector
- [159-193] Jupiter's thunder forces Diomed to retreat
- [194-239] Hector pursues and taunts the retreating Greeks
- [240-257] Juno fails to persuade Neptune to intervene
- [258-304] Agamemnon prays; Jupiter sends a favorable omen
- [305-354] The Greeks rally; Teucer excels with his bow
- [355-400] Hector wounds and disables Teucer
- [401-432] Hector drives the Greeks behind their wall
- [433-485] Juno and Minerva prepare to aid the Greeks
- [486-541] Iris, sent by Jupiter, restrains the goddesses
- [542-604] Jupiter returns to Olympus and foretells Greek defeat
- [605-672] Night falls; Hector calls a council
- [673-708] The Trojans light campfires across the plain
AURORA now, fair Daughter of the Dawn,
Sprinkled with rosy Light the dewy Lawn.
When Jove conven’d the Senate of the Skies,
Where high Olympus’ cloudy Tops arise.
The Sire of Gods his awful Silence broke;
The Heav’ns attentive trembled as he spoke.
Celestial States, Immortal Gods! give ear,
Hear our Decree, and rev’rence what ye hear;
The fix’d Decree which not all Heav’n can move;
Thou Fate! fulfill it; and ye Pow’rs! approve.
What God but enters yon’ forbidden Field,
Who yields Assistance, or but wills to yield;
Back to the Skies with Shame he shall be driv’n,
Gash’d with dishonest Wounds, the Scorn of Heav’n:
Or far, oh far from steep Olympus thrown,
Low in the dark, Tartarean Gulf shall groan,
With burning Chains fix’d to the Brazen Floors,
And lock’d by Hell’s inexorable Doors;
As deep beneath th’ Infernal Centre hurl’d,
As from that Centre to th’ Aethereal World.
Let him who tempts me, dread those dire Abodes;
And know, th’ Almighty is the God of Gods.
League all your Forces then, ye Pow’rs above,
Join all, and try th’ Omnipotence of Jove:
Let down our golden everlasting Chain,
Whose strong Embrace holds Heav’n, and Earth, and Main:
Strive all, of mortal and immortal Birth,
To drag, by this, the Thund’rer down to Earth:
Ye strive in vain! If I but stretch this Hand,
I heave the Gods, the Ocean, and the Land,
I fix the Chain to great Olympus’ Height,
And the vast World hangs trembling in my Sight!
For such I reign, unbounded and above;
And such are Men, and Gods, compar’d to Jove,
Th’ Almighty spoke, nor durst the Pow’rs reply,
A rev’rend Horror silenc’d all the Sky;
Trembling they stood before their Sov’reign’s Look;
At length his Best-belov’d, the Pow’r of Wisdom, spoke.
Oh First and Greatest! God by Gods ador’d!
We own thy Might, our Father and our Lord!
But ah! permit to pity human State;
If not to help, at least lament their Fate.
From Fields forbidden we submiss refrain,
With Arms unaiding mourn our Argives slain;
Yet grant my Counsels still their Breasts may move,
Or all must perish in the Wrath of Jove.
The Cloud-compelling God her Suit approv’d,
And smil’d superior on his Best-belov’d.
Then call’d his Coursers, and his Chariot took;
The stedfast Firmament beneath them shook:
50Rapt by th’ Aethereal Steeds the Chariot roll’d;
Brass were their Hoofs, their curling Manes of Gold.
Of Heav’ns undrossy Gold the God’s Array
Refulgent, flash’d intolerable Day.
High on the Throne he shines: His Coursers fly,
Between th’ extended Earth and starry Sky.
But when to Ida’s topmost Height he came,
(Fair Nurse of Fountains, and of Savage Game)
Where o’er her pointed Summits proudly rais’d,
His Fane breath’d Odours, and his Altar blaz’d:
There, from his radiant Car, the sacred Sire
Of Gods and Men releas’d the Steeds of Fire:
Blue ambient Mists th’ immortal Steeds embrac’d;
High on the cloudy Point his Seat he plac’d.
Thence his broad Eye the subject World surveys,
The Town, the Tents, and navigable Seas.
Now had the Grecians snatch’d a short Repaste,
And buckled on their shining Arms with Haste.
Troy rowz’d as soon; for on this dreadful Day
The Fate of Fathers, Wives, and Infants lay.
The Gates unfolding pour forth all their Train;
Squadrons on Squadrons cloud the dusky Plain:
Men, Steeds, and Chariots shake the trembling Ground;
The Tumult thickens, and the Skies resound.
And now with Shouts the shocking Armies clos’d,
To Lances, Lances, Shields to Shields oppos’d,
Host against Host with shadowy Legions drew,
The sounding Darts in Iron Tempests flew,
Victors and Vanquish’d join promiscuous Cries,
Triumphant Shouts and dying Groans arise;
With streaming Blood the slipp’ry Fields are dy’d,
And slaughter’d Heroes swell the dreadful Tide.
Long as the Morning Beams encreasing bright,
O’er Heav’ns clear Azure spread the sacred Light;
Commutual Death the Fate of War confounds,
Each adverse Battel goar’d with equal Wounds.
But when the Sun the Height of Heav’n ascends;
The Sire of Gods his golden Scales suspends,
With equal Hand: In these explor’d the Fate
Of Greece and Troy, and pois’d the mighty Weight.
Press’d with its Load the Grecian Balance lies
Low sunk on Earth, the Trojan strikes the Skies.
Then Jove from Ida’s Top his Horrors spreads;
The Clouds burst dreadful o’er the Grecian Heads;
Thick Light’nings flash; the mutt’ring Thunder rolls;
Their Strength he withers, and unmans their Souls.
Before his Wrath the trembling Host retire;
The God in Terrors, and the Skies on fire.
Nor great Idomeneus that Sight could bear,
Nor each stern Ajax, Thunderbolts of War:
100Nor He, the King of Men, th’Alarm sustain’d;
Nestor alone amidst the Storm remain’d.
Unwilling he remain’d, for Paris’ Dart
Had pierc’d his Courser in a mortal Part;
Fix’d in the Forehead where the springing Mane
Curl’d o’er the Brow, it stung him to the Brain;
Mad with his Anguish, he begins to rear,
Paw with his Hoofs aloft, and lash the Air.
Scarce had his Falchion cut the Reins, and freed
Th’ incumber’d Chariot from the dying Steed,
When dreadful Hector, thund’ring thro’ the War,
Pour’d to the Tumult on his whirling Car.
That Day had stretch’d beneath his matchless Hand
The hoary Monarch of the Pylian Band,
But Diomed beheld; from forth the Crowd
He rush’d, and on Ulysses call’d aloud.
Whither, oh whither does Ulysses run?
Oh Flight unworthy great Laertes’ Son!
Mix’d with the Vulgar shall thy Fate be found,
Pierc’d in the Back, a vile, dishonest Wound?
Oh turn and save from Hector’s direful Rage
The Glory of the Greeks, the Pylian Sage.
His fruitless Words are lost unheard in Air;
Ulysses seeks the Ships, and shelters there.
But bold Tydides to the Rescue goes,
A single Warrior ’midst a Host of Foes;
Before the Coursers with a sudden Spring
He leap’d, and anxious thus bespoke the King.
Great Perils, Father! wait th’ unequal Fight;
These younger Champions will oppress thy Might.
Thy Veins no more with ancient Vigour glow,
Weak is thy Servant, and thy Coursers slow.
Then haste, ascend my Seat, and from the Car
Observe the Steeds of Tros, renown’d in War,
Practis’d alike to turn, to stop, to chace,
To dare the Fight, or urge the rapid Race;
These late obey’d Aeneas’ guiding Rein;
Leave thou thy Chariot to our faithful Train:
With these against yon’ Trojans will we go,
Nor shall great Hector want an equal Foe;
Fierce as he is, ev’n He may learn to fear
The thirsty Fury of my flying Spear.
Thus said the Chief; and Nestor, skill’d in War,
Approves his Counsel, and ascends the Car:
The Steeds he left, their trusty Servants hold;
Eurymedon and Sthenelus the bold.
The rev’rend Charioteer directs the Course,
And strains his aged Arm to lash the Horse.
Hector they face; unknowing how to fear,
Fierce he drove on; Tydides whirl’d his Spear.
150The Spear with erring Haste mistook its way,
But plung’d in Eniopeus’ Bosom lay.
His opening Hand in Death forsakes the Rein;
The Steeds fly back: He falls, and spurns the Plain.
Great Hector sorrows for his Servant kill’d,
Yet unreveng’d permits to press the Field;
Till to supply his Place and rule the Car,
Rose Archeptolemus, the fierce in War.
And now had Death and Horror cover’d all;
Like tim’rous Flocks the Trojans in their Wall
Inclos’d had bled: but Jove with awful Sound
Roll’d the big Thunder o’er the vast Profound:
Full in Tydides’ Face the Light’ning flew;
The Ground before him flam’d with Sulphur blew;
The quiv’ring Steeds fell prostrate at the Sight;
And Nestor’s trembling Hand confess’d his Fright.
He drop’d the Reins; and shook with sacred Dread,
Thus, turning, warn’d th’ intrepid Diomed.
O Chief! too daring in thy Friend’s Defence,
Retire advis’d, and urge the Chariot hence.
This Day, averse, the Sov’reign of the Skies
Assists great Hector, and our Palm denies.
Some other Sun may see the happier Hour,
When Greece shall conquer by his heav’nly Pow’r.
’Tis not in Man his fix’d Decree to move:
The Great will glory to submit to Jove.
O rev’rend Prince! ( Tydides thus replies)
Thy Years are awful, and thy Words are wise.
But ah! what Grief? should haughty Hector boast,
I fled inglorious to the guarded Coast.
Before that dire Disgrace shall blast my Fame,
O’erwhelm me Earth! and hide a Warrior’s Shame.
To whom Gerenian Nestor thus reply’d,
Gods! can thy Courage fear the Phrygian’s Pride?
Hector may vaunt, but who shall heed the Boast?
Not those who felt thy Arm, the Dardan Host,
Nor Troy, yet bleeding in her Heroes lost;
Not ev’n a Phrygian Dame, who dreads the Sword
That lay’d in Dust her lov’d, lamented Lord.
He said; and hasty, o’er the gasping Throng
Drives the swift Steeds; the Chariot smoaks along.
The Shouts of Trojans thicken in the Wind;
The Storm of hissing Javelins pours behind.
Then with a Voice that shakes the solid Skies,
Pleas’d Hector braves the Warrior as he flies.
Go, mighty Hero! grac’d above the rest
In Seats of Council and the sumptuous Feast:
Now hope no more those Honours from thy Train;
Go, less than Woman in the Form of Man!
To scale our Walls, to wrap our Tow’rs in Flames
200To lead in Exile the fair Phrygian Dames,
Thy once-proud Hopes, presumptuous Prince! are fled;
This Arm shall reach thy Heart, and stretch thee dead.
Now Fears dissuade him, and now Hopes invite,
To stop his Coursers, and to stand the Fight;
Thrice turn’d the Chief, and thrice imperial Jove
On Ida’s Summits thunder’d from above.
Great Hector heard; he saw the flashing Light,
(The Sign of Conquest) and thus urg’d the Fight.
Hear ev’ry Trojan, Lycian, Dardan Band,
All fam’d in War, and dreadful hand to hand.
Be mindful of the Wreaths your Arms have won,
Your great Forefathers Glories, and your own.
Heard ye the Voice of Jove? Success and Fame
Await on Troy, on Greece eternal Shame.
In vain they skulk behind their boasted Wall,
Weak Bulwarks! destin’d by this Arm to fall.
High o’er their slighted Trench our Steeds shall bound,
And pass victorious o’er the levell’d Mound.
Soon as before yon’ hollow Ships we stand,
Fight each with Flames, and toss the blazing Brand;
Till their proud Navy wrapt in Smoak and Fires,
All Greece, encompass’d, in one Blaze expires.
Furious he said; then, bending o’er the Yoke,
Encourag’d his proud Steeds, while thus he spoke.
Now Xanthus, Aethon, Lampus! urge the Chace,
And thou, Podargus! prove thy gen’rous Race:
Be fleet, be fearless, this important Day,
And all your Masters well-spent Care repay.
For this, high fed in plenteous Stalls ye stand,
Serv’d with pure Wheat, and by a Princess’ Hand;
For this my Spouse of great Aetion’s Line
So oft’ has steep’d the strength’ning Grain in Wine.
Now swift pursue, now thunder uncontroll’d;
Give me to seize rich Nestor’s Shield of Gold;
From Tydeus’ Shoulders strip the costly Load,
Vulcanian Arms, the Labour of a God:
These if we gain, then Victory, ye Pow’rs!
This Night, this glorious Night, the Fleet is ours.
That heard, deep Anguish stung Saturnia’s Soul;
She shook her Throne that shook the starry Pole:
And thus to Neptune: Thou! whose Force can make
The stedfast Earth from her Foundations shake,
See’st thou the Greeks by Fates unjust opprest,
Nor swells thy Heart in that immortal Breast?
Yet Aegae, Helicè, thy Pow’r obey,
And Gifts unceasing on thine Altars lay.
Would all the Deities of Greece combine,
In vain the gloomy Thund’rer might repine:
Sole should he sit, with scarce a God to Friend,
250And see his Trojans to the Shades descend.
Such be the Scene from his Idaean Bow’r;
Ungrateful Prospect to the sullen Pow’r!
Neptune with Wrath rejects the rash Design:
What Rage, what Madness, furious Queen! is thine?
I war not with the Highest. All above
Submit and tremble at the Hand of Jove.
Now Godlike Hector, to whose matchless Might
Jove gave the Glory of the destin’d Fight,
Squadrons on Squadrons drives, and fills the Fields
With close-rang’d Chariots, and with thicken’d Shields.
Where the deep Trench in Length extended lay,
Compacted Troops stand wedg’d in firm Array,
A dreadful Front! they shake the Bands, and threat
With long-destroying Flames, the hostile Fleet.
The King of Men, by Juno’s self inspir’d,
Toil’d thro’ the Tents, and all his Army fir’d,
Swift as he mov’d he lifted in his Hand
His Purple Robe, bright Ensign of Command.
High on the midmost Bark the King appear’d;
There, from Ulysses’ Deck, his Voice was heard.
To Ajax and Achilles reach’d the Sound,
Whose distant Ships the guarded Navy bound.
Oh Argives! Shame of human Race; he cry’d,
(The hollow Vessels to his Voice reply’d)
Where now are all our glorious Boasts of yore,
Our hasty Triumphs on the Lemnian Shore?
Each fearless Hero dares an hundred Foes,
While the Feast lasts, and while the Goblet flows;
But who to meet one martial Man is found,
When the Fight rages, and the Flames surround?
Oh mighty Jove! oh Sire of the distress’d!
Was ever King like me, like me oppress’d?
With Pow’r immense, with Justice arm’d in vain;
My Glory ravish’d, and my People slain!
To thee my Vows were breath’d from ev’ry Shore;
What Altar smoak’d not with our Victims Gore?
With Fat of Bulls I fed the constant Flame,
And ask’d Destruction to the Trojan Name.
Now, gracious God! far humbler our Demand;
Give these at least to ’scape from Hector’s Hand,
And save the Reliques of the Grecian Land!
Thus pray’d the King, and Heav’ns great Father heard
His Vows, in Bitterness of Soul preferr’d;
The Wrath appeas’d, by happy Signs declares,
And gives the People to their Monarch’s Pray’rs.
His Eagle, sacred Bird of Heav’n! he sent,
A Fawn his Talons truss’d (divine Portent)
High o’er the wond’ring Hosts he soar’d above,
Who paid their Vows to Panomphaean Jove;
300Then let the Prey before his Altar fall;
The Greeks beheld, and Transport seiz’d on all:
Encourag’d by the Sign, the Troops revive,
And fierce on Troy with doubled Fury drive.
Tydides first, of all the Grecian Force,
O’er the broad Ditch impell’d his foaming Horse;
Pierc’d the deep Ranks; their strongest Battel tore;
And dy’d his Javelin red with Trojan Gore.
Young Ageläus ( Phradmon was his Sire)
With flying Coursers shun’d his dreadful Ire:
Strook thro’ the Back the Phrygian fell opprest;
The Dart drove on, and issu’d at his Breast:
Headlong he quits the Car; his Arms resound;
His pond’rous Buckler thunders on the Ground.
Forth rush a Tide of Greeks, the Passage freed;
th’ Atridae first, th’ Ajaces next succeed:
Meriones, like Mars in Arms renown’d,
And Godlike Idomen, now pass the Mound;
Euaemon’s Son next issues to the Foe,
And last young Teucer with his bended Bow.
Secure behind the Telamonian Shield
The skilful Archer wide survey’d the Field,
With ev’ry Shaft some hostile Victim slew,
Then close beneath the sev’nfold Orb withdrew.
The conscious Infant so, when Fear alarms,
Retires for Safety to the Mother’s Arms.
Thus Ajax guards his Brother in the Field,
Moves as he moves, and turns the shining Shield.
Who first by Teucer’s mortal Arrows bled?
Orsilochus; then fell Ormenus dead:
The Godlike Lycophon next press’d the Plain,
With Chromius, Daetor, Ophelestes slain:
Bold Hamopäon breathless sunk to Ground;
The bloody Pile great Melanippus crown’d.
Heaps fell on Heaps, sad Trophies of his Art,
A Trojan Ghost attending ev’ry Dart.
Great Agamemnon views with joyful Eye
The Ranks grow thinner as his Arrows fly,
Oh Youth for ever dear! (the Monarch cry’d)
Thus, always thus, thy early Worth be try’d.
Thy brave Example shall retrieve our Host,
Thy Country’s Saviour, and thy Father’s Boast!
Sprung from an Alien’s Bed thy Sire to grace,
The vig’rous Offspring of a stol’n Embrace,
Proud of his Boy, he own’d the gen’rous Flame,
And the brave Son repays his Cares with Fame.
Now hear a Monarchs Vow: If Heav’ns high Pow’rs
Give me to raze Troy’s long-defended Tow’rs;
Whatever Treasures Greece for me design,
The next rich Honorary Gift be thine:
350Some golden Tripod, or distinguish’d Car,
With Coursers dreadful in the Ranks of War;
Or some fair Captive whom thy Eyes approve
Shall recompence the Warrior’s Toils with Love.
To this the Chief: With Praise the rest inspire,
Nor urge a Soul already fill’d with fire.
What Strength I have, be now in Battel try’d,
Till ev’ry Shaft in Phrygian Blood be dy’d.
Since rallying from our Wall we forc’d the Foe,
Still aim’d at Hector have I bent my Bow;
Eight forky Arrows from this Hand have fled,
And eight bold Heroes by their Points lie dead:
But sure some God denies me to destroy
This Fury of the Field, this Dog of Troy.
He said, and twang’d the String. The Weapon flies
At Hector’s Breast, and sings along the Skies:
He miss’d the Mark; but pierc’d Gorgythio’s Heart,
And drench’d in Royal Blood the thirsty Dart.
(Fair Castianira, Nymph of Form Divine,
This Offspring added to King Priam’s Line)
As full blown Poppies overcharg’d with Rain
Decline the Head, and drooping kiss the Plain;
So sinks the Youth: his beauteous Head, depress’d
Beneath his Helmet, drops upon his Breast.
Another Shaft the raging Archer drew;
That other Shaft with erring Fury flew,
(From Hector Phoebus turn’d the flying Wound)
Yet fell not dry, or guiltless to the Ground:
Thy Breast, brave Archeptolemus! it tore,
And dipp’d its Feathers in no vulgar Gore.
Headlong he falls; his sudden Fall alarms
The Steeds that startle at his sounding Arms.
Hector with Grief his Charioteer beheld,
And ey’d him breathless on the sanguin Field.
Then bids Cebriones direct the Rein,
Quits his bright Car, and issues on the Plain.
Dreadful he shouts: from Earth a Stone he took,
And rush’d on Teucer with the lifted Rock.
The Youth already strain’d the forceful Yew;
The Shaft already to his Shoulder drew;
The Feather in his Hand, just wing’d for flight,
Touch’d where the Neck and hollow Chest unite:
There, where the Juncture knits the Channel Bone,
The furious Chief discharg’d the craggy Stone.
The Tendon burst beneath the pondrous Blow,
And his numb’d Hand dismiss’d his useless Bow.
He fell: But Ajax his broad Shield display’d,
And screen’d his Brother with the mighty Shade;
Till great Alastor, and Mecistheus, bore
The batter’d Archer groaning to the Shore.
400Troy yet found Grace before th’ Olympian Sire,
He arm’d their Hands, and fill’d their Breasts with Fire.
The Greeks, repuls’d, retreat behind their Wall,
Or in the Trench on Heaps confus’dly fall.
First of the Foe great Hector march’d along,
With Terror cloath’d, and more than mortal strong.
As the bold Hound that gives the Lion chace,
With beating Bosom, and with eager Pace,
Hangs on his Haunch, or fastens on his Heels,
Guards as he turns, and circles as he wheels:
Thus oft’ the Grecians turn’d, but still they flew;
Thus following Hector still the hindmost slew.
When flying they had pass’d the Trench profound,
And many a Chief lay gasping on the Ground;
Before the Ships a desp’rate Stand they made,
And fir’d the Troops, and call’d the Gods to aid.
Fierce on his ratt’ling Chariot Hector came;
His Eyes like Gorgon shot a sanguin Flame
That wither’d all their Host: Like Mars he stood,
Dire as the Monster, dreadful as the God!
Their strong Distress the Wife of Jove survey’d;
Then pensive thus, to War’s triumphant Maid.
Oh Daughter of that God, whose Arm can wield
Th’ avenging Bolt, and shake the sable Shield!
Now, in this Moment of her last Despair,
Shall wretched Greece no more confess our Care,
Condemn’d to suffer the full Force of Fate,
And drain the Dregs of Heav’ns relentless Hate?
Gods! shall one raging Hand thus level All?
What Numbers fell! what Numbers yet shall fall!
What Pow’r Divine shall Hector’s Wrath asswage?
Still swells the Slaughter, and still grows the Rage!
So spoke th’ imperial Regent of the Skies;
To whom the Goddess with the Azure Eyes.
Long since had Hector stain’d these Fields with Gore,
Stretch’d by some Argive on his native Shore:
But He above, the Sire of Heav’n withstands,
Mocks our Attempts, and slights our just Demands.
The stubborn God, inflexible and hard,
Forgets my Service and deserv’d Reward.
Sav’d I, for this, his Fav’rite Son distress’d,
By stern Eurystheus with long Labours prefs’d?
He begg’d, with Tears he begg’d, in deep Dismay;
I shot from Heav’n, and gave his Arm the Day.
Oh had my Wisdom known this dire Event,
When to grim Pluto’s gloomy Gates he went;
The Triple Dog had never felt his Chain,
Nor Styx been cross’d, nor Hell explor’d in vain.
Averse to me of all his Heav’n of Gods;
At Thetis’ Suit the partial Thund’rer nods.
450To grace her gloomy, fierce, resenting Son,
My Hopes are frustrate, and my Greeks undone.
Some future Day, perhaps he may be mov’d
To call his blue-ey’d Maid his Best-belov’d.
Haste, launch thy Chariot, thro’ yon’ Ranks to ride;
My self will arm, and thunder at thy side.
Then Goddess! say, shall Hector glory then,
(That Terror of the Greeks, that Man of Men)
When Juno’s self, and Pallas shall appear,
All dreadful in the crimson Walks of War?
What mighty Trojan then, on yonder Shore,
Expiring, pale, and terrible no more,
Shall feast the Fowls, and glut the Dogs with Gore?
She ceas’d, and Juno rein’d her Steeds with Care;
Heav’ns awful Empress, Saturn’s other Heir)
Pallas, meanwhile, her various Veil unbound,
With Flow’rs adorn’d, with Art immortal crown’d;
The radiant Robe her sacred Fingers wove,
Floats in rich Waves, and spreads the Court of Jove.
Her Father’s Arms her mighty Limbs invest,
His Cuirass blazes on her ample Breast.
The vig’rous Pow’r the trembling Car ascends;
Shook by her Arm, the massy Javelin bends;
Huge, pond’rous, strong! that when her Fury burns,
Proud Tyrants humbles, and whole Hosts o’erturns.
Saturnia lends the Lash; the Coursers fly;
Smooth glides the Chariot thro’ the liquid Sky.
Heav’n-Gates spontaneous open to the Pow’rs,
Heav’ns golden Gates, kept by the winged Hours,
Commission’d in alternate Watch to stand,
The Sun’s bright Portals and the Skies command;
Close, or unfold, th’ Eternal Gates of Day;
Bar Heav’n with Clouds, or roll those Clouds away.
The sounding Hinges ring, the Clouds divide;
Pronedown the Steep of Heav’n their Course they guide.
But Jove incens’d from Ida’s Top survey’d,
And thus enjoin’d the many-colour’d Maid.
Thaumantia! mount the Winds, and stop their Car;
Against the Highest who shall wage the War?
If furious yet they dare the vain Debate,
Thus have I spoke, and what I spake is Fate.
Their Coursers crush’d beneath the Wheels shall lie,
Their Car in Fragments scatter’d o’er the Sky;
My Light’ning these Rebellious shall confound,
And hurl them flaming, headlong to the Ground,
Condemn’d for ten revolving Years to weep
The Wounds impress’d by burning Thunder deep.
So shall Minerva learn to sear our Ire,
Nor dare to combate her’s and Natures Sire.
For Juno, headstrong and imperious still,
500She claims some Title to transgress our Will.
Swift as the Wind, the various-colour’d Maid
From Ida’s Top her golden Wings display’d;
To great Olympus’ shining Gates she flies,
There meets the Chariot rushing down the Skies,
Restrains their Progress from the bright Abodes,
And speaks the Mandate of the Sire of Gods.
What Frenzy, Goddesses! what Rage can move
Celestial Minds to tempt the Wrath of Jove?
Desist, obedient to his high Command;
This is his Word; and know his Word shall stand.
His Light’ning your Rebellion shall confound,
And hurl ye headlong, flaming to the Ground:
Your Horses crush’d beneath the Wheels shall lie
Your Car in Fragments scatter’d o’er the Sky;
Your selves condemn’d ten rolling Years to weep
The Wounds impress’d by burning Thunder deep.
So shall Minerva learn to fear his Ire,
Nor dare to combate her’s and Nature’s Sire.
For Juno, headstrong and imperious still,
She claims some Title to transgress his Will:
But Thee what desp’rate Insolence has driv’n,
To lift thy Lance against the Sire of Heav’n?
Then mounting on the Pinions of the Wind,
She flew; and Juno thus her Rage resign’d.
O Daughter of that God, whose Arm can wield
Th’avenging Bolt, and shake the dreadful Shield!
No more let Beings of superior Birth
Contend with Jove for this low Race of Earth:
Triumphant now, now miserably slain,
They breathe or perish, as the Fates ordain.
But Jove’s high Counsels full Effect shall find,
And ever constant, ever rule Mankind.
She spoke, and backward turn’d her Steeds of Light,
Adorn’d with Manes of Gold, and Heav’nly bright.
The Hours unloos’d them, panting as they stood,
And heap’d their Mangers with Ambrosial Food.
There ty’d, they rest in high Celestial Stalls;
The Chariot propt against the Crystal Walls.
The pensive Goddesses, abash’d, controul’d,
Mix with the Gods, and fill their Seats of Gold.
And now the Thund’rer meditates his Flight
From Ida’s Summits to th’ Olympian Height.
Swifter than Thought the Wheels instinctive fly,
Flame thro’ the Vast of Air, and reach the Sky.
’Twas Neptune’s Charge his Coursers to unbrace,
And fix the Car on its immortal Base;
There stood the Chariot beaming forth its Rays,
Till with a snowy Veil he screen’d the Blaze.
He, whose all-conscious Eyes the World behold,
550Th’ Eternal Thunderer, sate thron’d in Gold.
High Heav’n the Footstool of his Feet he makes,
And wide beneath him, all Olympus shakes.
Trembling afar th’ offending Pow’rs appear’d,
Confus’d and silent, for his Frown they fear’d.
He saw their Soul, and thus his Word imparts.
Pallas and Juno! say, why heave your Hearts?
Soon was your Battel o’er: Proud Troy retir’d
Before your Face, and in your Wrath expir’d.
But know, whoe’er Almighty Pow’r withstand!
Unmatch’d our Force, unconquer’d is our Hand:
Who shall the Sov’reign of the Skies controul?
Not all the Gods that crown the starry Pole.
Your Hearts shall tremble, if our Arms we take,
And each immortal Nerve with Horror shake.
For thus I speak, and what I speak shall stand;
What Pow’r soe’er provokes our lifted Hand,
On this our Hill no more shall hold his Place,
Cut off, and exil’d from th’Aethereal Race.
Juno and Pallas grieving hear the Doom,
But feast their Souls on Ilion’s Woes to come.
Tho’ secret Anger swell’d Minerva’s Breast,
The prudent Goddess yet her Wrath represt,
But Juno, impotent of Rage, replies.
What hast thou said, Oh Tyrant of the Skies!
Strength and Omnipotence invest thy Throne;
’Tis thine to punish; ours to grieve alone.
For Greece we grieve, abandon’d by her Fate
To drink the Dregs of thy unmeasur’d Hate:
From Fields forbidden we submiss refrain,
With Arms unaiding see our Argives slain;
Yet grant our Counsels still their Breasts may move,
Lest all should perish in the Rage of Jove.
The Goddess thus: and thus the God replies
Who swells the Clouds, and blackens all the Skies.
The Morning Sun, awak’d by loud Alarms,
Shall see th’ Almighty Thunderer in Arms.
What Heaps of Argives then shall load the Plain,
These radiant Eyes shall view, and view in vain.
Nor shall great Hector cease the Rage of Fight,
The Navy flaming, and thy Greeks in Flight,
Ev’n till the Day, when certain Fates ordain
That stern Achilles (his Patroclus slain)
Shall rise in Vengeance, and lay waste the Plain.
For such is Fate, nor can’st thou turn its Course
With all thy Rage, with all thy Rebel Force.
Fly, if thou wilt, to Earth’s remotest Bound,
Where on her utmost Verge the Seas resound;
Where curs’d Iäpetus and Saturn dwell,
Fast by the Brink, within the Steams of Hell;
600No Sun e’er gilds the gloomy Horrors there,
No chearful Gales refresh the lazy Air:
There arm once more the bold Titanian Band;
And arm in vain: For what I will, shall stand.
Now deep in Ocean sunk the Lamp of Light,
And drew behind the cloudy Veil of Night:
The conqu’ring Trojans mourn his Beams decay’d;
The Greeks rejoicing bless the friendly Shade.
The Victors keep the Field; and Hector calls
A martial Council near the Navy-Walls:
These to Scamander’s Bank apart he led,
Where thinly scatter’d lay the Heaps of Dead.
Th’ assembled Chiefs, descending on the Ground,
Attend his Order, and their Prince surround.
A massy Spear he bore of mighty Strength,
Of full ten Cubits was the Lance’s Length;
The Point was Steel, refulgent to behold,
Fix’d to the Wood with circling Rings of Gold:
The noble Hector on this Lance reclin’d,
And bending forward, thus reveal’d his Mind.
Ye valiant Trojans, with Attention hear!
Ye Dardan Bands, and gen’rous Aids give ear!
This Day, we hop’d, would wrap in conq’ring Flame
Greece with her Ships, and crown our Toils with Fame:
But Darkness now, to save the Cowards, falls,
And guards them trembling in their wooden Walls.
Obey the Night, and use her peaceful Hours
Our Steeds to forage, and refresh our Pow’rs.
Strait from the Town be Sheep and Oxen sought,
And strength’ning Bread, and gen’rous Wine be brought.
Wide o’er the Field, high-blazing to the Sky,
Let num’rous Fires the absent Sun supply;
The flaming Piles with plenteous Fuel raise,
Till the bright Morn her purple Beam displays:
Lest in the Silence and the Shades of Night,
Greece on her sable Ships attempt her Flight.
Not unmolested let the Wretches gain
Their lofty Decks, and safely cleave the Main;
Some hostile Wound let ev’ry Dart bestow,
Some lasting Token of the Phrygian Foe,
Wounds, that long hence may ask their Spouses Care,
And warn their Children from a Trojan War.
Now thro’ the Circuit of our Ilian Wall,
Let sacred Heralds sound the solemn Call;
To bid the Sires with hoary Honours crown’d,
And beardless Youths, the Battlements surround.
Firm be the Guard, while distant lie our Pow’rs,
And let the Matrons hang with Lights the Tow’rs:
Lest under Covert of the Midnight Shade,
Th’ insidious Foe the naked Town invade.
650Suffice, to Night, these Orders to obey;
A nobler Charge shall rowze the dawning Day.
The Gods, I trust, shall give to Hector’s Hand,
From these detested Foes to free the Land,
Who plow’d, with Fates averse, the wat’ry way;
For Trojan Vulturs a predestin’d Prey.
Our common Safety must be now the Care;
But soon as Morning paints the Fields of Air,
Sheath’d in bright Arms let ev’ry Troop engage,
And the fir’d Fleet behold the Battel rage.
Then, then shall Hector and Tydides prove,
Whose Fates are heaviest in the Scale of Jove.
To Morrow’s Light (oh haste the glorious Morn!)
Shall see his bloody Spoils in Triumph born,
With this keen Javelin shall his Breast be gor’d,
And prostrate Heroes bleed around their Lord.
Certain as this, oh might my Days endure,
From Age inglorious and black Death secure;
So might my Life and Glory know no bound,
Like Pallas worship’d, like the Sun renown’d;
As the next Dawn, the last they shall enjoy,
Shall crush the Greeks, and end the Woes of Troy.
The Leader spoke. From all his Hosts around
Shouts of Applause along the Shores resound.
Each from the Yoke the smoaking Steeds unty’d,
And fix’d their Headstalls to his Chariot-side.
Fat Sheep and Oxen from the Town are led,
With gen’rous Wine, and all-sustaining Bread.
Full Hecatombs lay burning on the Shore;
The Winds to Heav’n the curling Vapours bore.
Ungrateful Off’ring to th’ immortal Pow’rs,
Whose Wrath hung heavy o’er the Trojan Tow’rs;
Nor Priam, nor his Sons obtain’d their Grace;
Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty Race.
The Troops exulting sate in order round,
And beaming Fires illumin’d all the Ground.
As when the Moon, refulgent Lamp of Night!
O’er Heav’ns clear Azure sheds her sacred Light,
When not a Breath disturbs the deep Serene;
And not a Cloud o’ercasts the solemn Scene;
Around her Throne the vivid Planets roll,
And Stars unnumber’d gild the glowing Pole,
O’er the dark Trees a yellower Verdure shed,
And tip with Silver ev’ry Mountain’s Head;
Then shine the Vales, the Rocks in Prospect rise,
A Flood of Glory bursts from all the Skies:
The conscious Swains, rejoicing in the Sight,
Eye the blue Vault, and bless the useful Light.
So many Flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimm’ring Xanthus with their Rays.
700The long Reflections of the distant Fires
Gleam on the Walls, and tremble on the Spires.
A thousand Piles the dusky Horrors gild,
And shoot a shady Lustre o’er the Field.
Full fifty Guards each flaming Pile attend,
Whose umber’d Arms, by fits, thick Flashes send.
Loud neigh the Coursers o’er their Heaps of Corn,
And ardent Warriors wait the rising Morn.
Observations on the 8th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
Note I.
HOMER, like most of the Greeks, is thought to have travell’d into Aegypt, and brought from the Priests there not only their Learning, but their manner of conveying it in Fables and Hieroglyphicks. This is necessary to be consider’d by those who would thoroughly penetrate into the Beauty and Design of many Parts of this Author. For whoever reflects that this was the Mode of Learning in those Times, will make no doubt but there are several Mysteries both of Natural and Moral Philosophy involv’d in his Fictions, which otherwise in the literal Meaning appear too trivial or irrational; and it is but just, when these are not plain or immediately intelligible, to imagine that something of this kind may be hid under them. Nevertheless, as Homer travell’d not with a direct View of writing Philosophy or Theology, so he might often use these Hieroglyphical Fables and Traditions as Embellishments of his Poetry only, without taking the Pains to open their mystical Meaning to his Readers, and perhaps without diving very deeply into it himself.
Note II.
VERSE 25. Let down our golden everlasting Chain. ]
The various Opinions of the Ancients concerning this Passage are collected by Eustathius. Jupiter says, If he holds this Chain of Gold, the Force of all the Gods is unable to draw him down, but that he can draw up them, the Seas, and the Earth, and cause the whole Universe to hang unactive. Some think that Jupiter signifies the Aether, the golden Chain the Sun: If the Aether did not temper the Rays of the Sun as they pass thro’ it, his Beams would not only drink up and exhale the Ocean in Vapours, but also exhale the Moisture from the Veins of the Earth, which is the Cement that holds it together; by which means the whole Creation would become unactive, and all its Powers be suspended.
Others affirm, that by this golden Chain may be meant the Days of the World’s Duration, [Greek], which are as it were painted by the Lustre of the Sun, and follow one another in a successive Chain till they arrive at their final Period: While Jupiter or the Aether (which the Ancients call’d the Soul of all Things) still remains unchanged.
Plato in his Theaetetus says that by this golden Chain is meant the Sun, whose Rays enliven all Nature and cement the Parts of the Universe.
The Stoicks will have it that by Jupiter is implied Destiny, which over-rules every thing both upon, and above the Earth.
Others (delighted with their own Conceits) imagine that Homer intended to represent the Excellence of Monarchy; that the Sceptre ought to be sway’d by one Hand, and that all the Wheels of Government should be put in Motion by one Person.
But I fancy a much better Interpretation may be found for this, if we allow (as there is great Reason to believe) that the Aegyptians understood the true System of the World, and that Pythagoras first learn’d it from them. They held that the Planets were kept in their Orbits by Gravitation upon the Sun, which was therefore called Jovis carcer; and sometimes by the Sun (as Macrobius informs us) is meant Jupiter himself: We see too that the most prevailing Opinion of Antiquity fixes it to the Sun; so that I think it will be no strained Interpretation to say, that by the Inability of the Gods to pull Jupiter out of his Place with this Catena, may be understood the superior attractive Force of the Sun, whereby he continues unmoved, and draws all the rest of the Planets toward him.
Note III.
VERSE 16. Low in the dark Tartarean Gulf, &c.]
This Opinion of Tartarus, the Place of Torture for the Impious after Death, might also be taken from the Aegyptians: for it seems not improbable, as some Writers have observed, that some Tradition might then be spread in the Eastern Parts of the World, of the Fall of the Angels, the Punishment of the Damned, and other sacred Truths which were afterwards more fully explain’d and taught by the Prophets and Apostles. These Homer seems to allude to in this and other Passages; as where Vulcan is said to be precipitated from Heaven in the first Book, where Jupiter threatens Mars with Tartarus in the fifth, and where the Daemon of Discord is cast out of Heaven in the nineteenth. Virgil has translated a part of these Lines into the sixth Aeneid.
—Tum Tartarus ipse Bis patet in praeceps tantum, tenditque sub umbras, Quantus ad aethereum coeli suspectus Olympum.
And Milton in his first Book,
As far remov’d from God and Light of Heav’n, As from the Centre thrice to th’ utmost Pole.
It may not be unpleasing just to observe the Gradation in these three great Poets, as if they had vied with each other, in extending this Idea of the Depth of Hell. Homer says as far, Virgil twice as far, Milton thrice.
Note IV.
VERSE 35. Th’ Almighty spoke. ]
Homer in this whole Passage plainly shews his Belief of one supreme, omnipotent God, whom he introduces with a Majesty and Superiority worthy the great Ruler of the Universe. Accordingly Justin Martyr cites it as a Proof of our Author’s attributing the Power and Government of all things to one First God, whose Divinity is so far superior to all other Deities, that if compared to him they may be rank’d among Mortals. Admon. ad Gentes. Upon this Account, and with the Authority of that learned Father, I have ventur’d to apply to Jupiter in this Place such Appellatives as are suitable to the supreme Deity: a Practice I would be cautious of using in many others where the Notions and Descriptions of our Author must be own’d to be unworthy of the Divinity.
Note V.
VERSE 39. O first and greatest! &c.]
Homer is not only to be admir’d for keeping up the Characters of his Heroes, but for adapting his Speeches to the Characters of his Gods. Had Juno here given the Reply, she would have begun with some Mark of Resentment, but Pallas is all Submission; Juno would probably have contradicted him, but Pallas only begs leave to be sorry for those whom she must not assist; Juno would have spoken with the Prerogative of a Wife, but Pallas makes her Address with the Obsequiousness of a prudent Daughter. Eustathius.
Note VI.
VERSE 70. For on this dreadful Day The Fate of Fathers, Wives, and Infants lay. ]
It may be necessary to explain why the Trojans thought themselves obliged to fight in order to defend their Wives and Children. One would think they might have kept within their Walls, the Grecians made no Attempt to batter them, neither were they invested; and the Country was open on all sides except towards the Sea, to give them Provisions. The most natural thought is, that they and their Auxiliaries being very numerous, could not subsist but from a large Country about them; and perhaps not without the Sea, and the Rivers, where the Greeks encamp’d: That in time the Greeks would have surrounded them, and block’d up every Avenue to their Town: That they thought themselves obliged to defend the Country with all the Inhabitants of it; and that indeed at first this was rather a War between two Nations, and became not properly a Siege till afterwards.
Note VII.
VERSE 71. The Gates unfolding, &c.]
There is a wonderful Sublimity in these Lines; one sees in the Description the Gates of a warlike City thrown open, and an Army pouring forth; and one hears the Trampling of Men and Horses rushing to the Battel.
These Verses are, as Eustathius observes, only a Repetition of a former Passage, which shews that the Poet was particularly pleas’d with them, and that he was not ashamed of a Repetition when he could not express the same Image more happily than he had already done.
Note VIII.
VERSE 84. The sacred Light. ]
Homer describing the Advance of the Day from Morning till Noon, calls it [Greek], or sacred, says Eustathius, who gives this Reason for it, because that Part of the Day was allotted to Sacrifice and religious Worship.
Note IX.
VERSE 88. The Sire of Gods his golden Scales suspends. ]
This Figure representing God as weighing the Destinies of Men in his Balances, was first made use of in holy Writ. In the Book of Job, which is acknowledg’d to be one of the most ancient of all the Scriptures, he prays to be weighed in an even Balance, that God may know his Integrity. Daniel declares from God to Belshazzar, thou art weighed in the Balances, and sound light. And Proverbs, Ch. 16. ℣. 11. A just Weight and Balance are the Lord’s. Our Author has it again in the twenty second Iliad, and it appear’d so beautiful to succeeding Poets, that Aeschylus (as we are told by Plutarch de aud. Poetis ) writ a whole Tragedy upon this Foundation, which he called Psychostasia, or the weighing of Souls. In this he introduced Thetis and Aurora standing on either side of Jupiter’s Scales, and praying each for her Son while the Heroes fought.
[Greek]
It has been copied by Virgil in the last Aeneid.
Jupiter ipse duas aequato examine lances Sustinet, & fata imponit diversa duorum: Quem damnet labor, & quo vergat pondere lethum.
I cannot agree with Madam Dacier that these Verses are inferior to Homer’s; but Macrobius observes with some Colour, that the Application of them is not so just as in our Author; for Virgil had made Juno say before, that Turnus would certainly perish.
Nunc Juvenem imparibus video concurrere Fatis, Parcarumque dies & vis inimica propinquat.
So that there was less reason for weighing his Fate with that of Aeneas after that Declaration. Scaliger trifles miserably when he says Juno might have learn’d this from the Fates, tho’ Jupiter did not know it, before he consulted them by weighing the Scales. But Macrobius’s Excuse in behalf of Virgil is much better worth regard: I shall transcribe it entire, as it is perhaps the finest Period in all that Author.
Haec & alia ignoscenda Virgilio, qui studii circa Homerum nimietate excedit modum. Et revera non poterat non in aliquibus minor videri, qui per omnem poësim suam hoc uno est praecipue usus Archetypo. Acriter enim in Homerum oculos intendit, ut aemularetur
ejus non modo magnitudinem sed & simplicitatem, & praesentiam orationis, & tacitam majestatem. Hinc diversarum inter Heroas suos personarum varia magnificatio, hinc Deorum interpositio, hinc autoritas fabulosa, hinc affectuum naturalium expressio, hinc monumentorum persecutio, hinc parabolarum exaggeratio, hinc torrentis orationis sonitus, hinc rerum singularum cum splendore fastigium.
Sat. l. 5. c. 13.
As to the Ascent or Descent of the Scales, Eustathius explains it in this manner. The Descent of the Scale toward Earth signifies Unhappiness and Death, the Earth being the Place of Misfortune and Mortality; the Mounting of it signifies Prosperity and Life, the superior Regions being the Seats of Felicity and Immortality.
Milton has admirably improved upon this fine Fiction, and with an Alteration agreeable to a Christian Poet. He feigns that the Almighty weighed Satan in such Scales, but judiciously makes this difference, that the Mounting of his Scale denoted ill Success; whereas the same Circumstance in Homer points the Victory. His Reason was, because Satan was immortal, and therefore the sinking of his Scale could not signify Death, but the mounting of it did his Lightness, conformable to the Expression we just now cited from Daniel.
Th’ Eternal to prevent such horrid Fray Hung forth in Heav’n his golden Scales, yet seen Between Astraea and the Scorpion Sign: Wherein all things created first he weigh’d, The pendulous round Earth, with balanc’d Air, In counterpoise; now ponders all Events, Battels and Realms: In these he put two Weights, The Sequel each of Parting and of Fight; The latter quick up-flew, and kick’d the Beam.
I believe upon the whole this may with Justice be preferr’d both to Homer’s and Virgil’s, on account of the beautiful Allusion to the Sign of Libra in the Heavens, and that noble Imagination of the Maker’s weighing the whole World at the Creation, and all the Events of it since; so correspondent at once to Philosophy, and to the Style of the Scriptures.
Note X.
VERSE 93. Then Jove from Ida ’s Top, &c.]
This Distress of the Greeks being suppos’d, Jupiter’s Presence was absolutely necessary to bring them into it: for the inferior Gods that were friendly to Greece were rather more in Number and superior in Force to those that favour’d Troy; and the Poet had shew’d before, when both Armies were left to themselves, that the Greeks could overcome the Trojans; besides it would have been an indelible Reflection upon his Countrymen to have been vanquish’d by a smaller Number. Therefore nothing less than the immediate Interposition of Jupiter was requisite, which shews the wonderful Address of the Poet in his Machinery. Virgil makes Turnus say in the last Aeneid,
—Dii me terrent & Jupiter hostis.
And indeed this Defeat of the Greeks seems more to their Glory than all their Victories, since even Jupiter’s Omnipotence could with difficulty effect it.
Note XI.
VERSE 95. Thick Light’nings flash. ]
This Notion of Jupiter’s declaring against the Greeks by Thunder and Lightning, is drawn (says Dacier ) from Truth itself. Sam. 1. Ch. 7.
And as Samuel was offering up the Burnt-offering, the Philistines drew near to Battel against Israel: But the Lord thunder’d with a great Thunder on that Day upon the Philistines, and discomfited them, and they were smitten before Israel.
To which may be added that in the 18 th Psalm.
The Lord thunder’d in the Heavens, and the Highest gave his Voice; Hailstones and Coals of Fire. Yea, he sent out his Arrows and scatter’d them; he shot out Lightnings and discomfited them.
Upon occasion of the various Successes given by Jupiter, now to Grecians, now to Trojans, whom he suffers to perish interchangeably; some have fancy’d this Supposition injurious to the Nature of the Sovereign Being, as representing him variable or inconstant in his Rewards and Punishments. It may be answer’d, that as God makes use of some People to chastise others, and none are totally void of Crimes, he often decrees to punish those very Persons for lesser Sins, whom he makes his Instruments to punish others for greater: so purging them from their own Iniquities before they become worthy to be Chastisers of other Men’s. This is the Case of the Greeks here, whom Jupiter permits to suffer many ways, tho’ he had destin’d them to revenge the Rape of Helen upon Troy. There is a History in the Bible just of this Nature. In the 20 th Chapter of Judges, the Israelites are commanded to make War against the Tribe of Benjamin, to punish a Rape on the Wife of a Levite committed in the City of Gibeah: When they have laid Siege to the Place, the Benjamites sally upon them with so much Vigour, that a great Number of the Besiegers are destroy’d; they are astonish’d at these Defeats, as having undertaken the Siege in Obedience to the Command of God: But they are still order’d to persist, till at length they burn the City, and almost extinguish the Race of Benjamin. There are many Instances in Scripture, where Heaven is represented to change its Decrees according to the Repentance or Relapses of Men: Hezechias is order’d to prepare for Death, and afterwards fifteen Years are added to his Life: It is foretold to Achab that he shall perish miserably, and then upon his Humiliation God defers the Punishment till the Reign of his Successor, &c. I must confess, that in comparing Passages of the sacred Books with our Author one ought to use a great deal of Caution and Respect. If there are some Places in Scripture that in Compliance to human Understanding represent the Deity as acting by Motives like those of Men; there are infinitely more that shew him as he is, all Perfection, Justice, and Beneficence; whereas in Homer the general Tenor of the Poem represents Jupiter as a Being subject to Passion, Inequality, and Imperfection. I think M. Dacier has carry’d these Comparisons too far, and is too zealous to defend him upon every occasion in the Points of Theology and Doctrine.
Note XII.
VERSE 115. But Diomed beheld. ]
The whole following Story of Nestor and Diomed is admirably contriv’d to raise the Character of the latter. He maintains his Intrepidity, and ventures singly to bring off the old Hero, notwithstanding the general Consternation. The Art of Homer will appear wonderful to any one who considers all the Circumstances of this Part, and by what degrees he reconciles this Flight of Diomed to that undaunted Character. The Thunderbolt falls just before him; that is not enough; Nestor advises him to submit to Heaven; this does not prevail, he cannot bear the Thoughts of Flight: Nestor drives back the Chariot without his Consent; he is again inclined to go on till Jupiter again declares against him. These two Heroes are very artfully placed together, because none but a Person of Nestor’s Authority and Wisdom could have prevailed upon Diomed to retreat: A younger Warrior could not so well in Honour have given him such Counsel, and from no other would he have taken it. To cause Diomed to fly, required both the Counsel of Nestor, and the Thunder of Jupiter.
Note XIII.
VERSE 121. Oh turn and save, &c.]
There is a Decorum in making Diomed call Ulysses to the Assistance of his Brother Sage; for who better knew the Importance of Nestor, than Ulysses? But the Question is, whether Ulysses did not drop Nestor as one great Minister would do another, and fancy’d He should be the wise Man when the other was gone? Eustathius indeed is of Opinion that Homer meant not to cast any Aspersion on Ulysses, nor would have given him so many noble Appellations when in the same Breath he reflected upon his Courage. But perhaps the contrary Opinion may not be ill grounded if we observe the manner of Homer’s Expression. Diomed call’d Ulysses, but Ulysses was deaf, he did not hear; and whereas the Poet says of the rest, that they had not the Hardiness to stay, Ulysses is not only said to fly, but [Greek], to make violent Haste towards the Navy.
Ovid at least understood it thus, for he puts an Objection in Ajax’s Mouth, Metam. 13. drawn from this Passage, which would have been improper had not Ulysses made more speed than he ought; since Ajax on the same occasion retreated as well as he.
Note XIV.
VERSE 142. The thirsty Fury of my flying Spear. ]
Homer has Figures of that Boldness which it is impossible to preserve in another Language. The Words in the Original are [Greek], Hector shall see if my Spear is mad in my Hands. The Translation pretends only to have taken some Shadow of this, in animating the Spear, giving it Fury, and strengthning the Figure with the Epithet thirsty.
Note XV.
VERSE 159. And now had Death, &c.]
Eustathius observes how wonderfully Homer still advances the Character of Diomed: when all the Leaders of Greece were retreated, the Poet says that had not Jupiter interposed, Diomed alone had driven the whole Army of Troy to their Walls, and with his single Hand have vanquish’d an Army.
Note XVI.
VERSE 164. The Ground before him flam’d. ]
Here is a Battel describ’d with so much Fire, that the warmest Imagination of an able Painter cannot add a Circumstance to heighten the Surprize or Horror of the Picture. Here is what they call the Fracas, or Hurry and Tumult of the Action in the utmost Strength of Colouring, upon the Foreground; and the Repose or Solemnity at a distance, with great Propriety and Judgment. First, in the Eloignement, we behold Jupiter in golden Armour, surrounded with Glory, upon the Summit of Mount Ida; his Chariot and Horses by him, wrapt in dark Clouds. In the next Place below the Horizon, appear the Clouds rolling and opening, thro’ which the Lightning flashes in the Face of the Greeks, who are flying on all sides; Agamemnon and the rest of the Commanders in the Rear, in Postures of Astonishment. Towards the middle of the Piece, we see Nestor in the utmost Distress, one of his Horses having a deadly Wound in the Forehead with a Dart, which makes him rear and writhe, and disorder the rest. Nestor is cutting the Harness with his Sword, while Hector advances driving full speed. Diomed interposes, in an Action of the utmost Fierceness and Intrepidity: These two Heroes make the principal Figures and Subject of the Picture. A burning Thunderbolt falls just before the Feet of Diomed’s Horses, from whence a horrid Flame of Sulphur arises.
This is only a Specimen of a single Picture design’d by Homer out of the many with which he has beautified the Iliad. And indeed every thing is so natural and so lively, that the History-Painter would generally have no more to do but to delincate the Forms, and copy the Circumstances just as he finds them described by this great Master. We cannot therefore wonder at what has been so often said of Homer’s furnishing Ideas to the most famous Painters of Antiquity.
Note XVII.
VERSE 194. The solid Skies. ]
Homer sometimes calls the Heavens Brazen, [Greek], and Jupiter’s Palace, [Greek]. One might think from hence that the Notion of the Solidity of the Heavens, which is indeed very ancient, had been generally receiv’d. The Scripture uses Expressions agreeable to it, A Heaven of Brass, and the Firmament.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 214. Heard ye the Voice of Jove?]
It was a noble and effectual manner of encouraging the Troops, by telling them that God was surely on their side: This, it seems, has been an ancient Practice, as it has been used in modern Times by those who never read Homer.
Note XIX.
VERSE 226. Now Xanthus, Aethon, &c.]
There have been those who blame this manner introduced by Homer and copied by Virgil, of making a Hero address his Discourse to his Horses. Virgil has given human Sentiments to the Horse of Pallas, and made him weep for the Death of his Master. In the tenth Aeneid Mezentius speaks to his Horse in the same manner as Hector does here. Nay; he makes Turnus utter a Speech to his Spear, and invoke it as a Divinity. All this is agreeable to the Art of Oratory, which makes it a Precept to speak to every thing, and make every thing speak; of which there are innumerable applauded Instances in the most celebrated Orators. Nothing can be more spirited and affecting than this Enthusiasm of Hector, who, in the Transport of his Joy at the Sight of Diomed flying before him, breaks out into this Apostrophe to his Horses, as he is pursuing. And indeed the Air of this whole Speech is agreeable to a Man drunk with the Hopes of Success, and promising himself a Series of Conquests. He has in Imagination already forced the Grecian Retrenchments, set the Fleet in Flames, and destroyed the whole Army.
Note XX.
VERSE 231. For this my Spouse. ]
There is (says M. Dacier ) a secret Beauty in this Passage, which perhaps will only be perceiv’d by those who are particularly vers’d in Homer. He describes a Princess so tender in her Love to her Husband, that she takes care constantly to go and meet him at his Return from every Battel, and in the Joy of seeing him again, runs to his Horses, and gives them Bread and Wine as a Testimony of her Acknowledgment to them for bringing him back. Notwithstanding the Raillery that may be past upon this Remark, I take a Lady to be the best Judge to what Actions a Woman may be carry’d by Fondness to her Husband. Homer does not expresly mention Bread, but Wheat; and the Commentators are not agreed whether she gave them Wine to drink, or steep’d the Grain in it. Hobbes translates it as I do.
Note XXI.
VERSE 237. Vulcanian Arms, the Labour of a God. ]
These were the Arms that Diomed had received from Glaucus, and a Prize worthy Hector, being (as we were told in the sixth Book) entirely of Gold. I do not remember any other Place where the Shield of Nestor is celebrated by Homer.
Note XXII.
VERSE 245. Yet Aegae, Helice.]
These were two Cities of Greece in which Neptune was particularly honoured, and in each of which there was a Temple and Statue of him.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 262. Where the deep Trench. ]
That is to say, the Space betwixt the Ditch and the Wall was filled with the Men and Chariots of the Greeks. Hector not having yet past the Ditch. Eustathius.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 269. His Purple Robe. ]
Agamemnon here addresses himself to the Eyes of the Army; his Voice might have been lost in the Confusion of a Retreat, but the Motion of this purple Robe could not fail of attracting the Regards of the Soldiers. His Speech also is very remarkable; he first endeavours to shame them into Courage, and then begs of Jupiter to give that Courage Success; at least so far as not to suffer the whole Army to be destroyed. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 270. High on the midmost Bark, &c.]
We learn from hence the Situation of the Ships of Ulysses, Achilles, and Ajax. The two latter being the strongest Heroes of the Army, were placed to defend either end of the Fleet as most obnoxious to the Incursions or Surprizes of the Enemy; and Ulysses being the ablest Head, was allotted the middle Place, as more safe and convenient for the Council, and that he might be the nearer if any Emergency required his Advice. Eustathius, Spondanus.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 293. Thus pray’d the King, and Heav’ns great Father heard. ]
It is to be observ’d in general, that Homer hardly ever makes his Heroes succeed, unless they have first offer’d a Prayer to Heaven. Whether they engage in War, go upon an Embassy, undertake a Voyage; in a word, whatever they enterprize, they almost always supplicate some God; and whenever we find this omitted, we may expect some Adversity to befall them in the Course of the Story.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 297. The Eagle, sacred Bird! ]
Jupiter upon the Prayers of Agamemnon sends an Omen to encourage the Greeks. The Application of it is obvious: The Eagle signified Hector, the Fawn denoted the Fear and Flight of the Greeks, and being drop’d at the Altar of Jupiter, shew’d that they would be saved by the Protection of that God. The word [Greek](says Eustathius ) has a great Significancy in this Place. The Greeks having just received this happy Omen from Jupiter, were offering Oblations to him under the Title of the Father of Oracles. There may also be a natural Reason for this Appellation, as Jupiter signified the Aether, which is the Vehicle of all Sounds.
Virgil has a fine Imitation of this Passage, but diversify’d with many more Circumstances, where he make Juturna shew a Prodigy of the like Nature to encourage the Latins, Aen. 12.
Namque volans rubrâ sulvus Jovis ales in aethrâ, Litoreas agitabat aves, turbamque sonantem
Agminis aligeri: subito cum lapsus ad undas Cycnum excellentem pedibus rapit improbus uncis. Arrexere animos Itali: cunctaeque volucres Convertunt clamore fugam (mirabile visu) Aetheraque obscurant pennis, hostemque per auras Factâ nube premunt: donec vi victus & ipso Pondere defecit, praedamque ex unguibus ales Projecit fluvio, penitusque in nubila fugit.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 305. Tydides first. ]
Diomed, as we have before seen, was the last that retreated from the Thunder of Jupiter; he is now the first that returns to the Battel. It is worth while to observe the Behaviour of the Hero upon this Occasion: He retreats with the utmost Reluctancy, and advances with the greatest Ardour, he flies with greater Impatience to meet danger, than he could before to put himself in Safety. Eustathius.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 320. Secure behind the Telamonian Shield. ]
Eustathius observes that Teucer being an excellent Archer, and using only the Bow, could not wear any Arms which would incumber him, and render him less expedite in his Archery. Homer to secure him from the Enemy, represents him as standing behind Ajax’s Shield, and shooting from thence. Thus the Poet gives us a new Circumstance of a Battel, and tho’ Ajax atchieves nothing himself, he maintains a Superiority over Teucer: Ajax may be said to kill these Trojans with the Arrows of Teucer. There is also a wonderful Tenderness in the Simile with which he illustrates the Retreat of Teucer behind the Shield of Ajax: Such tender Circumstances soften the Horrors of a Battel, and diffuse a Dawn of Serenity over the Soul of the Reader.
Note XXX.
VERSE 336. Great Agamemnon views. ]
Eustathius observes that Homer would here teach the Duty of a General in a Battel. He must observe the Behaviour of his Soldiers: He must honour the Hero, reproach the Coward, reduce the disorderly; and for the Encouragement of the deserving, he must promise Rewards, that Desert in Arms may not only be paid with Glory.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 342. Sprung from an Alien’s Bed. ]
Agamemnon here in the Height of his Commendations of Teucer, tells him of his spurious Birth: This (says Eustathius ) was reckon’d no Disgrace among the Ancients; nothing being more common than for Heroes of old to take their Female Captives to their Beds; and as such Captives were then given for a Reward of Valour, and as a Matter of Glory, it could be no Reproach to be descended from them. Thus Teucer (says Eustathius ) was descended from Telamon, and Hesione the Sister of Priam, a Female Captive.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 363. This Dog of Troy.]
This is literal from the Greek, and I have ventured it as no improper Expression of the Rage of Teucer for having been so often disappointed in his Aim, and of his Passion against that Enemy who had so long prevented all the Hopes of the Grecians. Milton was not scrupulous of imitating even these, which the modern Refiners call unmannerly Strokes of our Author (who knew to what Extreams human Passions might proceed, and was not ashamed to copy them.) He has put this very Expression into the Mouth of God himself, who upon beholding the Havock which Sin and Death made in the World, is moved in his Indignation to cry out,
See with what Heat these Dogs of Hell advance!
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 365. He miss’d the Mark. ]
These Words, says Eustathius, are very artfully inserted; the Reader might wonder why so skilful an Archer should so often miss his Mark, and it was necessary that Teucer should miss Hector because Homer could not falsify the History: This Difficulty he removes by the Intervention of Apollo, who wafts the Arrow aside from him: The Poet does not tell us that this was done by the Hand of a God, till the Arrow of Teucer came so near Hector as to kill his Charioteer, which made some such Contrivance necessary.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 370. As full-blown Poppies. ]
This Simile is very beautiful, and exactly represents the manner of Gorgythion’s Death: There is such a Sweetness in the Comparison, that it makes us pity the Youth’s Fall, and almost feel his Wound. Virgil has apply’d it to the Death of Euryalus.
—Inque humeros cervix collapsa recumbit: Purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro Languescit moriens; lassove papavera collo Demisere caput, pluvia cum forte gravantur.
This is finely improved by the Roman Author with the Particulars of succisus aratro, and lasso collo. But it may on the other hand be observ’d in the favour of Homer, that the Circumstance of the Head being oppressed and weigh’d down by the Helmet is so remarkably just, that it is a wonder Virgil omitted it, and the rather because he had particularly taken notice before that it was the Helmet of Euryalus which occasion’d the Discovery and unfortunate Death of this young Hero and his Friend.
One may make a general Observation, that Homer in those Comparisons that breath an Air of Tenderness, is very exact, and adapts them in every Point to the Subject which he is to illustrate: But in other Comparisons, where he is to inspire the Soul with sublime Sentiments, he gives a Loose to his Fancy, and does not regard whether the Images exactly correspond. I take the Reason of it to be this: In the first, the Copy must be like the Original to cause it to affect us; the Glass needs only to return the real Image to make it beautiful; whereas in the other, a Succession of noble Ideas will cause the like Sentiments in the Soul, and tho’ the Glass should enlarge the Image, it only strikes us with such Thoughts as the Poet intended to raise, sublime and great.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 393. There, where the Juncture knits the Channel Bone. ]
Hector struck Teucer (it seems) just about the Articulation of the Arm, with the Shoulder; which cut the Tendon or wounded it so, that the Arm lost its Force: This is a true Description of the Effect of such a Blow.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 406. As the bold Hound that gives the Lion chace. ]
This Simile is the justest imaginable; and gives the most lively Picture of the manner in which the Grecians fled, and Hector pursued them, still slaughtering the hindmost. Gratius and Oppian have given us particular Descriptions of those sort of Dogs, of prodigious Strength and Size, which were employ’d to hunt and tear down wild Beasts. To one of these fierce Animals he compares Hector, and one cannot but observe his Care not to disgrace his Grecian Countrymen by an unworthy Comparison: Tho’ he is obliged to represent them flying, he makes them fly like Lions, and as they fly, turn frequently back upon their Pursuer; so that it is hard to say if they, or he, be in the greater Danger. On the contrary, when any of the Grecian Heroes pursue the Trojans, it is He that is the Lion, and the Flyers are but Sheep or trembling Deer.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 438. The stubborn God, inflexible and hard. ]
It must be owned that this Speech of Minerva against Jupiter, shocks the Allegory more than perhaps any in the Poem. Unless the Deities may sometimes be thought to mean no more than Beings that presided over those Parts of Nature, or those Passions and Faculties of the Mind. Thus as Venus suggests unlawful as well as lawful Desires, so Minerva may be described as the Goddess not only of Wisdom but of Craft, that is, both of true and false Wisdom. So the Moral of Minerva’s speaking rashly of Jupiter may be, that the wisest of finite Beings is liable to Passion and Indiscretion, as the Commentators have already observ’d.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 460. What mighty Trojan then, on yonder Shore. ]
She means Hector, whose Death the Poet makes her foresee is such a lively manner as if the Image of the Hero lay bleeding before her. This Picture is noble, and agreeable to the Observation we formerly made of Homer’s Method of Prophecying in the Spirit of Poetry.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 468. Floats in rich Waves. ]
The Greek word is [Greek]pours the Veil on the Pavement. I must just take Notice that here is a Repetition of the same beautiful Verses which the Author had used in the fifth Book.
Note XL.
VERSE 477. Smooth glides the Chariot, &c.]
One would almost think Homer made his Gods and Goddesses descend from Olympus, only to mount again, and mount only to descend again, he is so remarkably delighted with the Descriptions of their Horses, and their manner of Flight. We have no less than three of these in the present Book.
Note XLI.
VERSE 500. For Juno headstrong and imperious still, She claims, &c.]
Eustathius observes here, if a good Man does us a Wrong, we are justly angry at it, but if it proceeds from a bad one, it is no more than we expected, we are not at all surprized, and we bear it with Patience.
There are many such Passages as these in Homer which glance obliquely at the Fair Sex, and Jupiter is here forced to take upon himself the severe Husband, to teach Juno the Duty of a Wife.
Note XLII.
VERSE 522. But thee what desp’rate Insolence. ]
It is observable that Homer generally makes his Messengers, divine as well as human, very punctual in delivering their Messages in the very Words of the Persons who commission’d them. Iris however in the Close of her Speech has ventur’d to go beyond her Instructions and all Rules of Decorum, by adding these Expressions of bitter Reproach to a Goddess of superior Rank. The Words of the Original, [Greek], are too gross to be literally translated.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 524. Juno her Rage resign’d. ]
Homer never intended to give us the Picture of a good Wife in the Description of Juno: She obeys Jupiter, but it is a forced Obedience: She submits rather to the Governor than to the Husband, and is more afraid of his Lightning than his Commands.
Her Behaviour in this Place is very natural to a Person under a Disappointment: She had set her Heart upon preferring the Greeks, but failing in that Point, she assumes an Air of Indifference, and says, whether they live or die, she is unconcern’d.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 530. They breathe or perish as the Fates ordain. ]
The Translator has turn’d this Line in Compliance to an old Observation upon Homer, which Macrobius has written, and several others have since fallen into: They say he was so great a Fatalist, as not so much as to name the word Fortune in all his Works, but constantly Fate instead of it. This Remark seems curious enough, and indeed does agree with the general Tenor and Doctrine of this Poet; but unluckily it is not true, the Word which they have proscribed being imply’d in the Original of this ℣. 430. [Greek]
Note XLV.
VERSE 545. And fix the Car on its immortal Base. ]
It is remark’d by Eustathius that the word [Greek]signifies not only Altars, but Pedestals or Bases, of Statues, &c. I think our Language will bear this literally, tho’ M. Dacier durst not venture it in the French. The Solemnity with which this Chariot of Jupiter is set up, by the Hands of a God, and cover’d with a fine Veil, makes it easy enough to imagine that this Distinction also might be shewn it.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 569. Juno and Pallas.]
In the beginning of this Book Juno was silent, and Minerva reply’d: Here, says Eustathius, Homer makes Juno reply with great Propriety to both their Characters. Minerva resents the Usage of Jupiter, but the Reverence she bears to her Father, and her King, keeps her silent; she has not less Anger than Juno, but more Reason. Minerva there spoke with all the Submission and Deference that was owing from a Child to a Father, or from a Subject to a King; but Juno is more free with her Husband, she is angry, and lets him know it by the first word she utters.
Juno here repeats the same Words which had been us’d by Minerva to Jupiter near the beginning of this Book. What is there utter’d by Wisdom herself, and approv’d by him, is here spoken by a Goddess who (as Homer tells us at this very time) imprudently manifested her Passion, and whom Jupiter answers with Anger. To deal fairly, I cannot defend this in my Author, any more than some other of his Repetitions; as when Ajax in the fifteenth Iliad, ℣. 561. uses the same Speech word for word to encourage the Greeks, which Agamemnon had made in the fifth, ℣. 529. I think it equally an Extreme, to vindicate all the Repetitions of Homer, and to excuse none. However Eustathius very ingeniously excuses this, by saying that the same Speeches become entirely different by the different manner of introducing them. Minerva address’d herself to Jupiter with Words full of Respect, but Juno with Terms of Resentment. This, says he, shews the Effect of opening our Speeches with Art: It prejudices the Audience in our favour, and makes us speak to Friends: whereas the Auditor naturally denies that Favour, which the Orator does not seem to ask; so that what he delivers, tho’ it has equal Merit, labours under this Disadvantage, that his Judges are his Enemies.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 590. Nor shall great Hector cease, &c.]
Here, says Eustathius, the Poet prepares the Reader for what is to succeed: he gives us the Outlines of his Piece, which he is to fill up in the Progress of the Poem. This is so far from cloying the Reader’s Appetite, that it raises it, and makes him desirous to see the Picture drawn in its full length.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 620. Ye valiant Trojans, &c.]
Eustathius observes that Hector here speaks like a Soldier: He bears a Spear, not a Sceptre in his Hand; he harangues like a Warrior, but like a Victor; he seems to be too much pleased with himself, and in this Vein of Self-flattery, he promises a compleat Conquest over the Greeks.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 647. And let the Matrons. ]
I have been more observant of the Decorum in this Line than my Author himself. He calls the Women [Greek], an Epithet of scandalous Import, upon which Porphyry and the Greek Scholiast have said but too much. I know no Man that has yet had the Impudence to translate that Remark, in regard of which it is Politeness to imitate the Barbarians, and say, Graecum est, non legitur. For my part, I leave it as a Motive to some very curious Persons of both Sexes to study the Greek Language.
Note L.
VERSE 679. Full Hecatombs, &c.]
The six Lines that follow being a Translation of four in the Original, are added from the Authority of Plato in Mr. Barnes his Edition: That Author cites them in his second Alcibiades. There is no doubt of their being genuine, but the Question is only whether they are rightly placed here? I shall not pretend to decide upon a Point which will doubtless be the Speculation of future Criticks.
Note LI.
VERSE 687. As when the Moon, &c.]
This Comparison is inferior to none in Homer. It is the most beautiful Nightpiece that can be found in Poetry. He presents you with a Prospect of the Heavens, the Seas, and the Earth: The Stars shine, the Air is serene, the World enlighten’d, and the Moon mounted in Glory. Eustathius remarks that [Greek]does not signify the Moon at full, for then the Light of the Stars is diminish’d or lost in the greater Brightness of the Moon. And others correct the word [Greek], to [Greek], for [Greek], but this Criticism is forced, and I see no Necessity why the Moon may not be said to be bright, tho’ it is not in the full. A Poet is not obliged to speak with the Exactness of Philosophy, but with the Liberty of Poetry.
Note LII.
VERSE 702. A thousand Piles. ]
Homer in his Catalogue of the Grecian Ships, tho’ he does not recount expresly the Number of the Greeks, has given some Hints from whence the Sum of their Army may be collected. But in the same Book where he gives an Account of the Trojan Army, and relates the Names of the Leaders and Nations of the Auxiliaries, he says nothing by which we may infer the Number of the Army of the besieged. To supply therefore that Omission, he has taken occasion by this Piece of Poetical Arithmetick, to inform his Reader, that the Trojan Army amounted to fifty thousand. That the Assistant Nations are to be included herein, appears from what Dolon says in l. 10. that the Auxiliaries were encamped that Night with the Trojans. This Passage gives me occasion to animadvert upon a Mistake of a modern Writer, and another of my own. The Abbè Terasson in a late Treatise against Homer, is under a grievous Error, in saying that all the Forces of Troy and the Auxiliaries cannot be reasonably suppos’d from Homer to be above ten thousand Men. He had entirely overlook’d this Place, which says there were a thousand Fires, and fifty Men at each of them. See my Observation on the second Book, where these Fires by a slip of my Memory are called Funeral Piles: I should be glad it were the greatest Error I have committed in these Notes.
Note LIII.
VERSE 706. The Coursers o’er their Heaps of Corn. ]
I durst not take the same Liberty with M. Dacier, who has omitted this Circumstance, and does not mention the Horses at all. In the following Line, the last of the Book, Homer has given to the Morning the Epithet fair-haired, or bright-throned, [Greek]. I have already taken notice in the Preface of the Method of translating the Epithets of Homer, and must add here, that it is often only the Uncertainty the Moderns lie under, of the true genuine Signification of an ancient word, which causes the many various Constructions of it. So that it is probable the Author’s own Words, at the time he used them, never meant half so many things as we translate them into. Madam Dacier generally observes one Practice as to these throughout her Version: She renders almost every such Epithet in Greek by two or three in French, from a fear of losing the least part of its Significance. This perhaps may be excusable in Prose; tho’ at best it makes the whole much more verbose and tedious, and is rather like writing a Dictionary than rendring an Author: But in Verse, every Reader knows such a Redoubling of Epithets would not be tolerable. A Poet has therefore only to chuse that, which most agrees with the Tenor and main Intent of the particular Passage, or with the Genius of Poetry itself.
It is plain that too scrupulous an Adherence to many of these, gives the Translation an exotic, pedantic, and whimsical Air, which it is not to be imagined the Original ever had. To call a Hero the great Artificer of Flight, the swift of Foot, or the Horse-tamer, these give us Ideas of little Peculiarities, when in the Author’s Time they were Epithets used only in general to signify Alacrity, Agility, and Vigor. A common Reader would imagine from these servile Versions, that Diomed and Achilles were Foot-Racers, and Hector a Horse-Courser, rather than that any of them were Heroes. A Man shall be call’d a faithful Translator for rendring [Greek]in English, swift-footed; but laugh’d at if he should translate our English word dext’rous into any other Language, right-handed.
Book IX THE NINTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
AGamemnon after the last Day’s Defeat, proposes to the Greeks to quit the Siege, and return to their Country. Diomed opposes this, and Nestor seconds him, praising his Wisdom and Resolution. He orders the Guard to be strengthen’d, and a Council summon’d to deliberate what Measures were to be follow’d in this Emergency. Agamemnon pursues this Advice, and Nestor farther prevails upon him to send Ambassadors to Achilles, in order to move him to a Reconciliation. Ulysses and Ajax are made choice of, who are accompanied by old Phoenix. They make, each of them, very moving and pressing Speeches, but are rejected with Roughness by Achilles, who notwithstanding retains Phoenix in his Tent. The Ambassadors return unsuccessfully to the Camp, and the Troops betake themselves to sleep. This Book, and the next following, take up the Space of one Night, which is the twenty seventh from the beginning of the Poem. The Scene lies on the Sea-shore, the Station of the Grecian Ships.
Index to The Argument
- [1-38] Agamemnon's despair: A call to retreat
- [39-70] Diomed's rebuke: 'I will fight on!'
- [71-108] Nestor's counsel: Set the watch, call the elders
- [109-120] The night watch is set
- [121-146] Council of elders: Nestor advises appeasing Achilles
- [147-214] Agamemnon's offer of reconciliation and gifts
- [215-242] The embassy is chosen and dispatched
- [243-270] The embassy arrives at Achilles' tent
- [271-405] Ulysses' speech: The Greek plight and Agamemnon's gifts
- [406-555] Achilles' reply: The great refusal
- [556-712] Phoenix's speech: A personal plea and the tale of Meleager
- [713-756] Ajax's speech: A blunt appeal to reason
- [757-770] Achilles' final word: 'I will fight when the fire reaches my ships'
- [771-785] The embassy departs; Achilles and Phoenix retire
- [786-811] Ulysses reports the failure to the council
- [812-837] Diomed's resolve: To fight on without Achilles
- [1-837] Scene: The Greek camp by the sea
THUS joyful Troy maintain’d the Watch of Night,
While Fear, pale Comrade of inglorious Flight,
And heav’n-bred Horror, on the Grecian part,
Sate on each Face, and sadden’d ev’ry heart.
As from its cloudy Dungeon issuing forth,
A double Tempest of the West and North
Swells o’er the Sea, from Thracia’s frozen Shore,
Heaps Waves on Waves, and bids th’ Aegean roar;
This way and that, the boiling Deeps are tost;
Such various Passions urg’d the troubled Host.
Great Agamemnon griev’d above the rest;
Superior Sorrows swell’d his Royal Breast;
Himself his Orders to the Heralds bears,
To bid to Council all the Grecian Peers,
But bid in Whispers: These surround their Chief,
In solemn Sadness, and majestic Grief.
The King amidst the mournful Circle rose;
Down his wan Cheek a briny Torrent flows;
So silent Fountains, from a Rock’s tall Head,
In sable Streams soft-trickling Waters shed.
With more than vulgar Grief he stood opprest;
Words, mixt with Sighs, thus bursting from his Breast.
Ye Sons of Greece! partake your Leader’s Care,
Fellows in Arms, and Princes of the War!
Of partial Jove too justly we complain,
And heav’nly Oracles believ’d in vain;
A safe Return was promis’d to our toils,
With Conquest honour’d, and enrich’d with Spoils:
Now shameful flight alone can save the Host;
Our Wealth, our People, and our Glory lost.
So Jove decrees, Almighty Lord of all!
Jove, at whose Nod whole Empires rise or fall,
Who shakes the feeble Props of human Trust,
And Tow’rs and Armies humbles to the Dust.
Haste then, for ever quit these fatal Fields,
Haste to the Joys our native Country yields;
Spread all your Canvas, all your Oars employ,
Nor hope the Fall of heav’n-defended Troy.
He said; deep Silence held the Grecian Band,
Silent, unmov’d, in dire Dismay they stand,
A pensive Scene! ’till Tydeus’ warlike Son
Roll’d on the King his Eyes, and thus begun.
When Kings advise us to renounce our Fame,
First let him speak, who first has suffer’d Shame.
If I oppose thee, Prince! thy Wrath with-hold,
The Laws of Council bid my Tongue be bold.
Thou first, and thou alone, in Fields of Fight,
Durst brand my courage, and defame my might;
Nor from a Friend th’ unkind Reproach appear’d,
The Greeks stood witness, all our Army heard.
50The Gods, O Chief! from whom our honours spring,
The Gods have made thee but by halves a King;
They gave thee Scepters, and a wide Command,
They gave Dominion o’er the Seas and Land,
The noblest Pow’r that might the World controul
They gave thee not—a brave and virtuous Soul.
Is this a Gen’ral’s Voice, that would suggest
Fears like his own to ev’ry Grecian Breast?
Confiding in our want of Worth, he stands,
And if we fly, ’tis what our King commands.
Go thou inglorious! from th’ embattel’d Plain;
Ships thou hast store, and nearest to the Main,
A nobler Care the Grecians shall employ,
To combate, conquer, and extirpate Troy.
Here Greece shall stay; or if all Greece retire,
My self will stay, till Troy or I expire;
My self, and Sthenelus, will fight for Fame;
God bad us fight, and ’twas with God we came.
He ceas’d: the Greeks loud Acclamations raise,
And Voice to Voice resounds Tydides’ Praise.
Wise Nestor then his Rev’rend Figure rear’d;
He spoke: the Host in still Attention heard.
O truly great! in whom the Gods have join’d
Such Strength of Body, with such Force of Mind;
In Conduct, as in Courage, you excell,
Still first to act what you advise so well.
Those wholsome Counsels which thy Wisdom moves,
Applauding Greece with common Voice approves.
Kings thou canst blame; a bold, but prudent Youth;
And blame ev’n Kings with Praise, because with Truth.
And yet those Years that since thy Birth have run,
Would hardly stile thee Nestor’s youngest Son.
Then let me add what yet remains behind,
A Thought unfinish’d in that gen’rous Mind;
Age bids me speak; nor shall th’Advice I bring
Distast the People, or offend the King.
Curs’d is the Man, and void of Law and Right,
Unworthy Property, unworthy Light,
Unfit for publick Rule, or private Care;
That Wretch, that Monster, who delights in War:
Whose Lust is Murder, and whose horrid Joy,
To tear his Country, and his Kind destroy!
This Night, refresh and fortify thy Train;
Between the Trench and Wall, let Guards remain:
Be that the Duty of the young and bold;
But thou, O King, to Council call the old:
Great is thy Sway, and weighty are thy Cares;
Thy high Commands must spirit all our Wars.
With Thracian Wines recruit thy honour’d Guests,
For happy Counsels flow from sober Feasts.
100Wise, weighty Counsels aid a State distrest,
And such a Monarch as can chuse the best.
See! what a Blaze from hostile Tents aspires,
How near our Fleet approach the Trojan Fires?
Who can, unmov’d, behold the dreadful Light,
What Eye beholds ’em, and can close to night?
This dreadful Interval determines all;
To morrow, Troy must flame, or Greece must fall.
Thus spoke the hoary Sage: the rest obey;
Swift thro’ the Gates the Guards direct their way.
His Son was first to pass the lofty Mound,
The gen’rous Thrasymed, in Arms renown’d:
Next him Ascalaphus, Iäalmen, stood,
The double Offspring of the Warrior-God.
Deipyrus, Aphareus, Merion join,
And Lycomed, of Creon’s noble Line.
Sev’n were the Leaders of the nightly Bands,
And each bold Chief a hundred Spears commands.
The Fires they light, to short Repasts they fall,
Some line the Trench, and others man the Wall.
The King of Men, on publick Counsels bent,
Conven’d the Princes in his ample Tent;
Each seiz’d a Portion of the Kingly Feast,
But stay’d his Hand when Thirst and Hunger ceast.
Then Nestor spoke, for Wisdom long approv’d,
And slowly rising, thus the Council mov’d.
Monarch of Nations! whose superior Sway
Assembled States, and Lords of Earth obey,
The Laws and Scepters to thy Hand are giv’n,
And Millions own the Care of thee and Heav’n.
O King! the Counsels of my Age attend;
With thee my Cares begin, in thee must end;
Thee, Prince! it fits alike to speak and hear,
Pronounce with Judgment, with Regard give ear,
To see no wholsom Motion be withstood,
And ratify the best, for publick Good.
Nor, tho’ a meaner give Advice, repine,
But follow it, and make the Wisdom thine.
Hear then a Thought, not now conceiv’d in hast,
At once my present Judgment, and my past;
When from Pelides’ Tent you forc’d the Maid,
I first oppos’d, and faithful, durst dissuade;
But bold of Soul, when headlong Fury fir’d,
You wrong’d the Man, by Men and Gods admir’d:
Now seek some means his fatal wrath to end,
With Pray’rs to move him, or with Gifts to bend.
To whom the King. With Justice hast thou shown
A Prince’s Faults, and I with Reason own.
That happy Man whom Jove still honours most,
Is more than Armies, and himself an Host.
150Blest in his Love, this wond’rous Hero stands;
Heav’n fights his War, and humbles all our Bands.
Fain wou’d my Heart, which err’d thro’ frantic Rage,
The wrathful Chief and angry Gods assuage.
If Gifts immense his mighty Soul can bow,
Hear all ye Greeks, and witness what I vow.
Ten weighty Talents of the purest Gold,
And twice ten Vases of refulgent Mold;
Sev’n sacred Tripods, whose unfully’d Frame
Yet knows no Office, nor has felt the Flame:
Twelve Steeds unmatch’d in Fleetness and in Force,
And still victorious in the dusty Course:
(Rich were the Man, whose ample Stores exceed
The Prizes purchas’d by their winged Speed)
Sev’n lovely Captives of the Lesbian Line,
Skill’d in each Art, unmatch’d in Form divine,
The same I chose for more than vulgar Charms,
When Lesbos sunk beneath the Hero’s Arms.
All these, to buy his Friendship, shall be paid,
And join’d with these, the long contested Maid;
With all her Charms, Briseis I resign,
And solemn swear those Charms were never mine;
Untouch’d she stay’d, uninjur’d she removes,
Pure from my Arms, and guiltless of my Loves,
These instant shall be his; and if the Pow’rs
Give to our Arms proud Ilion’s hostile Tow’rs,
Then shall he store (when Greece the Spoil divides)
With Gold and Brass his loaded Navy’s sides.
Besides full twenty Nymphs of Trojan Race,
With copious Love shall crown his warm Embrace;
Such as himself will chuse; who yield to none,
Or yield to Helen’s heav’nly Charms alone.
Yet hear me farther: When our Wars are o’er,
If safe we land on Argos fruitful Shore,
There shall he live my Son, our Honours share,
And with Orestes’ self divide my Care.
Yet more—three Daughters in my Court are bred,
And each well worthy of a Royal Bed;
Laodice and Iphigenia fair,
And bright Chrysothemis with golden Hair;
Her let him choose, whom most his Eyes approve,
I ask no Presents, no Reward for Love.
My self will give the Dow’r; so vast a Store,
As never Father gave a Child before.
Sev’n ample Cities shall confess his Sway,
Him Enope, and Phaerae him obey,
Cardamyle with ample Turrets crown’d,
And sacred Pedasus, for Vines renown’d;
Aepea fair, the Pastures Hyra yields,
And rich Antheia with her flow’ry Fields:
200The whole Extent to Pylos’ sandy Plain
Along the verdant Margin of the Main.
There Heifers graze, and lab’ring Oxen toil;
Bold are the Men, and gen’rous is the Soil;
There shall he reign with Pow’r and Justice crown’d,
And rule the tributary Realms around.
All this I give, his Vengeance to controul,
And sure all this may move his mighty Soul.
Pluto, the grizly God who never spares,
Who feels no Mercy, and who hears no Pray’rs,
Lives dark and dreadful in deep Hell’s Abodes,
And Mortals hate him, as the worst of Gods.
Great tho’ he be, it fits him to obey;
Since more than his my Years, and more my Sway.
The Monarch thus: the Rev’rend Nestor then:
Great Agamemnon! glorious King of Men!
Such are thy Offers as a Prince may take,
And such as fits a gen’rous King to make.
Let chosen Delegates this Hour be sent,
(My self will name them) to Pelides’ Tent:
Let Phaenix lead, rever’d for hoary Age,
Great Ajax next, and Ithacus the sage.
Yet more to sanctify the Word you send,
Let Hodius and Eurybates attend.
Now pray to Jove to grant what Greece demands;
Pray, in deep Silence, and with purest Hands.
He said, and all approv’d. The Heralds bring
The cleansing Water from the living Spring.
The Youth with Wine the sacred Goblets crown’d,
And large Libations drench’d the Sands around.
The Rite perform’d, the Chiefs their Thirst allay,
Then from the Royal Tent they took their way;
Wise Nestor turns on each his careful Eye,
Forbids t’ offend, instructs them to apply:
Much he advis’d them all, Ulysses most,
To deprecate the Chief, and save the Host.
Thro’ the still Night they march, and hear the roar
Of murm’ring Billows on the sounding Shore.
To Neptune, Ruler of the Seas profound,
Whose liquid Arms the mighty Globe surround,
They pour forth Vows their Embassy to bless,
And calm the Rage of stern Aeacides.
And now arriv’d, where, on the sandy Bay
The Myrmidonian Tents and Vessels lay;
Amus’d at Ease, the godlike Man they found,
Pleas’d with the solemn Harp’s harmonious Sound.
(The well-wrought Harp from conquer’d Thebae came,
Of polish’d Silver was its costly Frame)
With this he sooths his angry Soul, and sings
Th’ immortal Deeds of Heroes and of Kings.
250Patroclus only of the Royal Train,
Plac’d in his Tent, attends the lofty Strain:
Full opposite he sate, and listen’d long,
In Silence waiting till he ceas’d the Song.
Unseen the Grecian Embassy proceeds
To his high Tent; the great Ulysses leads.
Achilles, starting as the Chiefs he spy’d,
Leap’d from his Seat, and laid the Harp aside.
With like Surprize arose Menaetius’ Son:
Pelides grasp’d their Hands, and thus begun.
Princes all hail! whatever brought ye here,
Or strong Necessity, or urgent Fear:
Welcome, tho’ Greeks! for not as Foes ye came;
To me more dear than all that bear the Name.
With that, the Chiefs beneath his Roof he led,
And plac’d in Seats with purple Carpets spread.
Then thus— Patroclus; crown a larger Bowl,
Mix purer Wine, and open ev’ry Soul.
Of all the Warriors yonder Host can send,
Thy Friend most honours these, and these thy Friend.
He said; Patroclus o’er the blazing Fire
Heaps in a Brazen Vase three Chines entire:
The Brazen Vase Automedon sustains,
Which Flesh of Porker, Sheep, and Goat contains:
Achilles at the genial Feast presides,
The Parts transfixes, and with Skill divides.
Mean while Patroclus sweats the Fire to raise;
The Tent is brightned with the rising Blaze:
Then, when the languid Flames at length subside,
He strows a Bed of glowing Embers wide,
Above the Coals the smoaking Fragments turns,
And sprinkles sacred Salt from lifted Urns;
With Bread the glitt’ring Canisters they load,
Which round the Board Menaetius’ Son bestow’d;
Himself, oppos’d t’ Ulysses full in sight,
Each Portion parts, and orders ev’ry Rite.
The first fat Off’rings, to th’Immortals due,
Amidst the greedy Flames Patroclus threw;
Then each, indulging in the social Feast,
His Thirst and Hunger soberly represt.
That done, to Phaenix Ajax gave the Sign;
Not unperceiv’d; Ulysses crown’d with Wine
The foaming Bowl, and instant thus began,
His Speech addressing to the Godlike Man.
Health to Achilles! happy are thy Guests!
Not those more honour’d whom Atrides feasts:
Tho’ gen’rous Plenty crown thy loaded Boards,
That, Agamemnon’s regal Tent affords;
But greater Cares sit heavy on our Souls,
Not eas’d by Banquets or by flowing Bowls.
300What Scenes of Slaughter in yon Fields appear!
The dead we mourn, and for the living fear;
Greece on the Brink of Fate all doubtful stands,
And owns no Help but from thy saving Hands:
Troy and her Aids for ready Vengeance call;
Their threat’ning Tents already shade our Wall,
Hear how with Shouts their Conquest they proclaim,
And point at ev’ry Ship their vengeful Flame!
For them, the Father of the Gods declares,
Theirs are his Omens, and his Thunder theirs.
See, full of Jove, avenging Hector rise!
See! Heav’n and Earth the raging Chief defies;
What Fury in his Breast, what Light’ning in his Eyes!
He waits but for the Morn, to sink in Flame
The Ships, the Greeks, and all the Grecian Name.
Heav’ns! how my Country’s Woes distract my Mind
Lest Fate accomplish all his Rage design’d.
And must we, Gods! our Heads inglorious lay
In Trojan Dust, and this the fatal Day?
Return, Achilles! oh return, tho’ late,
To save thy Greeks, and stop the Course of Fate;
If in that Heart, or Grief, or Courage lies,
Rise to redeem; ah yet, to conquer, rise!
The Day may come, when all our Warriors slain,
That Heart shall melt, that Courage rise in vain.
Regard in time, O Prince divinely brave!
Those wholsome Counsels which thy Father gave.
When Peleus in his aged Arms embrac’d
His parting Son, these Accents were his last.
My Child! with Strength, with Glory and Success,
Thy Arms may Juno and Minerva bless!
Trust that to Heav’n—but thou, thy Cares engage
To calm thy Passions, and subdue thy Rage:
From gentler Manners let thy Glory grow,
And shun Contention, the sure Source of Woe;
That young and old may in thy Praise combine,
The Virtues of Humanity be thine—
This, now despis’d Advice, thy Father gave;
Ah! check thy Anger, and be truly brave,
If thou wilt yield to great Atrides’ Pray’rs,
Gifts worthy thee, his Royal Hand prepares;
If not—but hear me, while I number o’er
The proffer’d Presents, an exhaustless Store.
Ten weighty Talents of the purest Gold,
And twice ten Vases of refulgent Mold;
Sev’n sacred Tripods, whose unsully’d Frame
Yet knows no Office, nor has felt the Flame:
Twelve Steeds unmatch’d in Fleetness and in Force,
And still victorious in the dusty Course:
(Rich were the Man, whose ample Stores exceed
350The Prizes purchas’d by their winged Speed)
Sev’n lovely Captives of the Lesbian Line,
Skill’d in each Art, unmatch’d in Form divine,
The same he chose for more than vulgar Charms,
When Lesbos sunk beneath thy conqu’ring Arms.
All these, to buy thy Friendship, shall be paid,
And join’d with these, the long contested Maid;
With all her Charms, Briseis he’ll resign,
And solemn swear those Charms were only thine;
Untouch’d she stay’d, uninjur’d she removes,
Pure from his Arms, and guiltless of his Loves.
These instant shall be thine; and if the Pow’rs
Give to our Arms proud Ilion’s hostile Tow’rs,
Then shalt thou store (when Greece the Spoil divides)
With Gold and Brass thy loaded Navy’s sides.
Besides full twenty Nymphs of Trojan Race,
With copious Love shall crown thy warm Embrace;
Such as thy self shall chuse; who yield to none,
Or yield to Helen’s heav’nly Charms alone.
Yet hear me farther: When our Wars are o’er,
If safe we land on Argos fruitful Shore,
There shalt thou live his Son, his Honours share,
And with Orestes’ self divide his Care.
Yet more—three Daughters in his Court are bred,
And each well worthy of a Royal Bed;
Laodice and Iphigenia fair,
And bright Chrysothemis with golden Hair;
Her shalt thou wed whom most thy Eyes approve,
He asks no Presents, no Reward for Love.
Himself will give the Dow’r; so vast a Store,
As never Father gave a Child before.
Sev’n ample Cities shall confess thy Sway,
Thee Enope, and Phaerae thee obey,
Cardamyle with ample Turrets crown’d,
And sacred Pedasus, for Vines renown’d;
Aepea fair, the Pastures Hyra yields,
And rich Antheia with her flow’ry Fields:
The whole Extent to Pylos’ sandy Plain
Along the verdant Margin of the Main.
There Heifers graze, and lab’ring Oxen toil;
Bold are the Men, and gen’rous is the Soil;
There shalt thou reign with Pow’r and Justice crown’d,
And rule the tributary Realms around.
Such are the Proffers which this Day we bring,
Such the Repentance of a suppliant King.
But if all this relentless thou disdain,
If Honour, and if Int’rest plead in vain;
Yet some Redress to suppliant Greece afford,
And be, amongst her guardian Gods, ador’d.
If no Regard thy suff’ring Country claim,
400Hear thy own Glory, and the Voice of Fame:
For now that Chief, whose unresisted Ire,
Made Nations tremble, and whole Hosts retire,
Proud Hector, now, th’ unequal Fight demands,
And only triumphs to deserve thy Hands.
Then thus the Goddess-born. Ulysses, hear
A faithful Speech, that knows nor Art, nor Fear;
What in my secret Soul is understood,
My Tongue shall utter, and my Deeds make good.
Let Greece then know, my Purpose I retain,
Nor with new Treaties vex my Peace in vain.
Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My Heart detests him as the Gates of Hell.
Then thus in short my fixt Resolves attend,
Which nor Atrides, nor his Greeks can bend;
Long Toils, long Perils in their Cause I bore,
But now th’ unfruitful Glories charm no more.
Fight or not fight, a like Reward we claim,
The Wretch and Hero find their Prize the same;
Alike regretted in the Dust he lies,
Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies.
Of all my Dangers, all my glorious Pains,
A Life of Labours, lo! what Fruit remains.
As the bold Bird her helpless Young attends,
From Danger guards them, and from Want defends;
In Search of Prey she wings the spacious Air,
And with th’ untasted Food supplies her Care:
For thankless Greece such Hardships have I brav’d,
Her Wives, her Infants by my Labours sav’d;
Long sleepless Nights in heavy Arms I stood,
And sweat laborious Days in Dust and Blood.
I sack’d twelve ample Cities on the Main,
And twelve lay smoaking on the Trojan Plain:
Then at Atrides’ haughty Feet were laid
The Wealth I gather’d, and the Spoils I made.
Your mighty Monarch these in Peace possest;
Some few my Soldiers had, himself the rest.
Some Present too to ev’ry Prince was paid;
And ev’ry Prince enjoys the Gift he made;
I only must refund, of all his Train;
See what Preheminence our Merits gain!
My Spoil alone his greedy Soul delights;
My Spouse alone must bless his lustful Nights:
The Woman, let him (as he may) enjoy;
But what’s the Quarrel then of Greece to Troy?
What to these Shores th’ assembled Nations draws,
What calls for Vengeance but a Woman’s Cause?
Are fair Endowments and a beauteous Face
Belov’d by none but those of Atreus’ Race?
The Wife whom Choice and Passion both approve,
450Sure ev’ry wise and worthy Man will love.
Nor did my fair one less Distinction claim;
Slave as she was, my Soul ador’d the Dame.
Wrong’d in my Love, all Proffers I disdain;
Deceiv’d for once, I trust not Kings again.
Ye have my Answer—what remains to do,
Your King, Ulysses, may consult with you.
What needs he the Defence this Arm can make?
Has he not Walls no human Force can shake?
Has he not fenc’d his guarded Navy round,
With Piles, with Ramparts, and a Trench profound?
And will not these (the Wonders he has done)
Repell the Rage of Priam’s single Son?
There was a time (’twas when for Greece I fought)
When Hector’s Prowess no such Wonders wrought;
He kept the Verge of Troy, nor dar’d to wait
Achilles’ Fury at the Scaean Gate;
He try’d it once, and scarce was sav’d by Fate.
But now those ancient Enmities are o’er;
To morrow we the fav’ring Gods implore,
Then shall you see our parting Vessels crown’d,
And hear with Oars the Hellespont resound.
The third Day hence, shall Pthia greet our Sails,
If mighty Neptune send propitious Gales;
Pthia to her Achilles shall restore
The Wealth he left for this detested Shore:
Thither the Spoils of this long War shall pass,
The ruddy Gold, the Steel, and shining Brass;
My beauteous Captives thither I’ll convey,
And all that rests of my unravish’d Prey.
One only valu’d Gift your Tyrant gave,
And that resum’d; the fair Lyrnessian Slave.
Then tell him; loud, that all the Greeks may hear,
And learn to scorn the Wretch they basely fear.
(For arm’d in Impudence, Mankind he braves,
And meditates new Cheats on all his Slaves:
Tho’ shameless as he is, to face these Eyes
Is what he dares not; if he dares, he dies)
Tell him, all Terms, all Commerce I decline,
Nor share his Council, nor his Battel join;
For once deceiv’d, was his; but twice, were mine.
No—let the stupid Prince, whom Jove deprives
Of Sense and Justice, run where Frenzy drives;
His Gifts are hateful: Kings of such a Kind
Stand but as Slaves before a noble Mind.
Not tho’ he proffer’d all himself possest;
And all his Rapine cou’d from others wrest;
Not all the golden Tydes of Wealth that crown
The many-peopled Orchomenian Town;
Not all proud Thebes’ unrival’d Walls contain,
500The World’s great Empress on th’ Aegyptian Plain,
(That spreads her Conquests o’er a thousand States,
And pours her Heroes thro’ a hundred Gates,
Two hundred Horsemen, and two hundred Cars
From each wide Portal issuing to the Wars)
Tho’ Bribes were heap’d on Bribes, in Number more
Than Dust in Fields, or Sands along the Shore;
Should all these Offers for my Friendship call;
’Tis he that offers, and I scorn them all.
Atrides’ Daughter never shall be led
(An ill-match’d Consort) to Achilles’ Bed;
Like golden Venus tho’ she charm’d the Heart,
And vy’d with Pallas in the Works of Art.
Some greater Greek let those high Nuptials grace,
I hate Alliance with a Tyrant’s Race.
If Heav’n restore me to my Realms with Life,
The rev’rend Peleus shall elect my Wife;
Thessalian Nymphs there are, of Form divine,
And Kings that sue to mix their Blood with mine.
Blest in kind Love, my Years shall glide away,
Content with just hereditary Sway;
There deaf for ever to the martial Strife,
Enjoy the dear Prerogative of Life.
Life is not to be bought with Heaps of Gold;
Not all Apollo’s Pythian Treasures hold,
Or Troy once held, in Peace and Pride of Sway,
Can bribe the poor Possession of a Day!
Lost Herds and Treasures, we by Arms regain,
And Steeds unrival’d on the dusty Plain;
But from our Lips the vital Spirit fled,
Returns no more to wake the silent dead.
My Fates long since by Thetis were disclos’d,
And each alternate, Life or Fame propos’d:
Here, if I stay, before the Trojan Town,
Short is my Date, but deathless my Renown;
If I return, I quit immortal Praise
For Years on Years, and long-extended Days.
Convinc’d, tho’ late, I find my fond Mistake,
And warn the Greeks the wiser Choice to make:
To quit these Shores, their native Seats enjoy,
Nor hope the Fall of Heav’n-defended Troy.
Jove’s Arm, display’d, asserts her from the Skies;
Her Hearts are strengthen’d, and her Glories rise.
Go then, to Greece report our fixt Design;
Bid all your Counsels, all your Armies join,
Let all your Forces, all your Arts conspire,
To save the Ships, the Troops, the Chiefs from Fire.
One Stratagem has fail’d, and others will:
Ye find, Achilles is unconquer’d still.
Go then—digest my Message as ye may—
550But here this Night let rev’rend Phaenix stay:
His tedious Toils, and hoary Hairs demand
A peaceful Death in Pthia’s friendly Land.
But whether he remain, or sail with me,
His Age be sacred, and his Will be free.
The Son of Peleus ceas’d: The Chiefs around
In Silence wrapt, in Consternation drown’d,
Attend the stern Reply. Then Phaenix rose;
(Down his white Beard a Stream of Sorrow flows)
And while the Fate of suff’ring Greece he mourn’d,
With Accents weak these tender Words return’d.
Divine Achilles! wilt thou then retire,
And leave our Hosts in Blood, our Fleets on Fire?
If Wrath so dreadful fill thy ruthless Mind,
How shall thy Friend, thy Phaenix, stay behind?
The Royal Peleus, when from Pthia’s Coast
He sent thee early to th’ Achaian Hoast;
Thy Youth as then in sage Debates unskill’d,
And new to Perils of the direful Field:
He bade me teach thee all the ways of War.
To shine in Councils, and in Camps to dare.
Never, ah never let me leave thy side!
No Time shall part us, and no Fate divide.
Not tho’ the God that breath’d my Life, restore
The Bloom I boasted, and the Port I bore,
When Greece of old beheld my youthful Flames,
(Delightful Greece, the Land of lovely Dames.)
My Father, faithless to my Mother’s Arms,
Old as he was, ador’d a Stranger’s Charms.
I try’d what Youth could do (at her Desire)
To win the Damsel, and prevent my Sire.
My Sire with Curses loads my hated Head,
And cries, Ye Furies! barren be his Bed.
Infernal Jove, the vengeful Fiends below,
And ruthless Proserpine, confirm’d his Vow.
Despair and Grief distract my lab’ring Mind;
Gods! what a Crime my impious Heart design’d?
I thought (but some kind God that Thought supprest)
To plunge the Ponyard in my Father’s Breast:
Then meditate my Flight; my Friends in vain
With Pray’rs entreat me, and with Force detain.
On fat of Rams, black Bulls, and brawny Swine,
They daily feast, with Draughts of fragrant Wine.
Strong Guards they plac’d, and watch’d nine Nights entire;
The Roofs and Porches flam’d with constant Fire.
The tenth, I forc’d the Gates, unseen of all;
And favour’d by the Night, o’er leap’d the Wall.
My Travels thence thro’ spacious Greece extend;
In Pthia’s Court at last my Labours end.
Your Sire receiv’d me, as his Son caress’d,
600With Gifts enrich’d, and with Possessions bless’d.
The strong Dolopians thenceforth own’d my Reign,
And all the Coast that runs along the Main.
By Love to thee his Bounties I repay’d,
And early Wisdom to thy Soul convey’d:
Great as thou art, my Lessons made thee brave,
A Child I took thee, but a Hero gave.
Thy Infant Breast a like Affection show’d;
Still in my Arms (an ever-pleasing Load)
Or at my Knee, by Phoenix wouldst thou stand;
No Food was grateful but from Phoenix’ Hand.
I pass my Watchings o’er thy helpless Years,
The tender Labours, the compliant Cares;
The Gods (I thought) revers’d their hard Decree,
And Phoenix felt a Father’s Joys in thee:
Thy growing Virtues justify’d my Cares,
And promis’d Comfort to my silver Hairs.
Now by thy Rage, thy fatal Rage, resign’d;
A cruel Heart ill suits a manly Mind:
The Gods (the only great, and only wise)
Are mov’d by Off’rings, Vows, and Sacrifice;
Offending Man their high Compassion wins,
And daily Pray’rs attone for daily Sins.
Pray’rs are Jove’s Daughters, of celestial Race,
Lame are their Feet, and wrinkled is their Face;
With humble Mien, and with dejected Eyes,
Constant they follow where Injustice flies:
Injustice swift, erect, and unconfin’d,
Sweeps the wide Earth, and tramples o’er Mankind,
While Pray’rs, to heal her Wrongs, move slow behind.
Who hears these Daughters of Almighty Jove,
For him they mediate to the Throne above:
When Man rejects the humble Suit they make,
The Sire revenges for the Daughter’s sake,
From Jove commission’d fierce Injustice then
Descends, to punish unrelenting Men.
Oh let not headlong Passion bear the Sway;
These reconciling Goddesses obey:
Due Honours to the Seed of Jove belong;
Due Honours calm the fierce, and bend the strong.
Were these not paid thee by the Terms we bring,
Were Rage still harbour’d in the haughty King,
Nor Greece, nor all her Fortunes, should engage
Thy Friend to plead against so just a Rage.
But since what Honour asks, the Gen’ral sends,
And sends by those whom most thy Heart commends,
The best and noblest of the Grecian Train;
Permit not these to sue, and sue in vain!
Let me (my Son) an ancient Fact unfold,
A great Example drawn from Times of old;
650Hear what our Fathers were, and what their Praise,
Who conquer’d their Revenge in former Days.
Where Calydon on rocky Mountains stands,
Once fought th’ Aetolian and Curetian Bands;
To guard it those, to conquer, these advance;
And mutual Deaths were dealt with mutual Chance.
The silver Cynthia bade Contention rise,
In Vengeance of neglected Sacrifice;
On Oeneus’ Fields she sent a monstrous Boar,
That levell’d Harvests, and whole Forests tore:
This Beast (when many a Chief his Tusks had slain)
Great Meleager stretch’d along the Plain.
Then, for his Spoils, a new Debate arose,
The Neighbour Nations thence commencing Foes.
Strong as they were, the bold Curetes fail’d,
While Meleager’s thund’ring Arm prevail’d:
Till Rage at length inflam’d his lofty Breast,
(For Rage invades the wisest and the best.)
Curs’d by Althaea, to his Wrath he yields,
And in his Wife’s Embrace forgets the Fields.
"(She from Marpessa sprung, divinely fair,
"And matchless Idas, more than Man in War;
"The God of Day ador’d the Mother’s Charms;
"Against the God the Father bent his Arms:
"Th’ afflicted Pair, their Sorrows to proclaim,
"From Cleopatra chang’d this Daughter’s Name,
"And call’d Alcyone; a Name to show
"The Father’s Grief, the mourning Mother’s Woe.)
To her the Chief retir’d from stern Debate,
But found no Peace from fierce Althaea’s Hate:
Althaea’s Hate th’ unhappy Warrior drew,
Whose luckless Hand his Royal Uncle slew;
She beat the Ground, and call’d the Pow’rs beneath
On her own Son to wreak her Brother’s Death:
Hell heard her Curses from the Realms profound,
And the red Fiends that walk the nightly Round.
In vain Aetolia her Deliv’rer waits,
War shakes her Walls, and thunders at her Gates.
She sent Embassadors, a chosen Band,
Priests of the Gods, and Elders of the Land;
Besought the Chief to save the sinking State;
Their Pray’rs were urgent, and their Proffers great:
(Full fifty Acres of the richest Ground,
Half Pasture green, and half with Vin’yards crown’d.)
His suppliant Father, aged Oeneus, came;
His Sisters follow’d; ev’n the vengeful Dame,
Althaea sues; His Friends before him fall:
He stands relentless, and rejects ’em all.
Mean while the Victor’s Shouts ascend the Skies;
The Walls are scal’d; the rolling Flames arise;
700At length his Wife (a Form divine) appears,
With piercing Cries, and supplicating Tears:
She paints the Horrors of a conquer’d Town,
The Heroes slain, the Palaces o’erthrown,
The Matrons ravish’d, the whole Race enslav’d:
The Warrior heard, he vanquish’d, and he sav’d.
Th’ Aetolians, long disdain’d, now took their turn,
And left the Chief their broken Faith to mourn.
Learn hence, betimes to curb pernicious Ire,
Nor stay, till yonder Fleets ascend in Fire:
Accept the Presents; draw thy conqu’ring Sword;
And be amongst our guardian Gods ador’d.
Thus he: The stern Achilles thus reply’d.
My second Father, and my rev’rend Guide!
Thy Friend, believe me, no such Gifts demands,
And asks no Honours from a Mortal’s Hands:
Jove honours me, and favours my Designs;
His Pleasure guides me, and his Will confines:
And here I stay, (if such his high Behest)
While Life’s warm Spirit beats within my Breast.
Yet hear one word, and lodge it in thy Heart,
No more molest me on Atrides’ Part:
Is it for him these Tears are taught to flow,
For him these Sorrows? for my mortal Foe?
A gen’rous Friendship no cold Medium knows,
Burns with one Love, with one Resentment glows;
One should our Int’rests, and our Passions be;
My Friend must hate the Man that injures me.
Do this, my Phoenix, ’tis a gen’rous Part,
And share my Realms, my Honours, and my Heart.
Let these return: Our Voyage, or our Stay,
Rest undetermin’d till the dawning Day.
He ceas’d; then order’d for the Sage’s Bed
A warmer Couch with num’rous Carpets spread.
With that, stern Ajax his long Silence broke,
And thus, impatient, to Ulysses spoke.
Hence, let us go—why waste we Time in vain?
See what Effect our low Submissions gain!
Lik’d or not lik’d, his Words we must relate,
The Greeks expect them, and our Heroes wait.
Proud as he is, that Iron-heart retains
Its stubborn Purpose, and his Friends disdains.
Stern, and unpitying! if a Brother bleed,
On just Attonement, we remit the Deed;
A Sire the Slaughter of his Son forgives;
The Price of Blood discharg’d, the Murd’rer lives:
The haughtiest Hearts at length their Rage resign,
And Gifts can conquer ev’ry Soul but thine.
The Gods that unrelenting Breast have steel’d,
And curs’d thee with a Mind that cannot yield.
750One Woman-Slave was ravish’d from thy Arms:
Lo, sev’n are offer’d, and of equal Charms.
Then hear, Achilles! be of better Mind;
Revere thy Roof, and to thy Guests be kind;
And know the Men, of all the Grecian Host,
Who honour Worth, and prize thy Valour most.
Oh Soul of Battels, and thy People’s Guide!
(To Ajax thus the first of Greeks reply’d)
Well hast thou spoke; but at the Tyrant’s Name,
My Rage rekindles, and my Soul’s on flame,
’Tis just Resentment, and becomes the brave;
Disgrac’d, dishonour’d, like the vilest Slave!
Return then Heroes! and our Answer bear,
The glorious Combat is no more my Care;
Not till amidst yon’ sinking Navy slain,
The Blood of Greeks shall dye the sable Main;
Not till the Flames, by Hector’s Fury thrown,
Consume your Vessels, and approach my own;
Just there, th’ impetuous Homicide shall stand,
There cease his Battel, and there feel our Hand.
This said, each Prince a double Goblet crown’d,
And cast a large Libation on the Ground;
Then to their Vessels, thro’ the gloomy Shades,
The Chiefs return; divine Ulysses leads.
Meantime Achilles’ Slaves prepar’d a Bed,
With Fleeces, Carpets, and soft Linen spread:
There, till the sacred Morn restor’d the Day,
In Slumbers sweet the rev’rend Phoenix lay.
But in his inner Tent, an ampler Space,
Achilles slept; and in his warm Embrace
Fair Diomedè of the Lesbian Race.
Last, for Patroclus was the Couch prepar’d,
Whose nightly Joys the beauteous Iphis shar’d:
Achilles to his Friend consign’d her Charms,
When Scyros fell before his conqu’ring Arms.
And now th’ elected Chiefs whom Greece had sent,
Pass’d thro’ the Hosts, and reach’d the Royal Tent.
Then rising all, with Goblets in their Hands,
The Peers and Leaders of th’ Achaian Bands
Hail’d their Return: Atrides first begun.
Say what Success? divine Laertes Son!
Achilles’ high Resolves declare to all;
Returns the Chief, or must our Navy fall?
Great King of Nations! ( Ithacus reply’d)
Fixt is his Wrath, unconquer’d is his Pride;
He slights thy Friendship, thy Proposals scorns,
And thus implor’d, with fiercer Fury burns.
To save our Army, and our Fleets to free,
Is not his Care; but left to Greece and thee.
Your Eyes shall view, when Morning paints the Sky,
800Beneath his Oars the whitening Billows fly.
Us too he bids our Oars and Sails employ,
Nor hope the Fall of Heav’n-protected Troy;
For Jove o’ershades her with his Arm divine,
Inspires her War, and bids her Glory shine.
Such was his Word: What farther he declar’d,
These sacred Heralds and great Ajax heard.
But Phoenix in his Tent the Chief retains,
Safe to transport him to his native Plains,
When Morning dawns: if other he decree,
His Age is sacred, and his Choice is free.
Ulysses ceas’d: The great Achaian Host,
With Sorrow seiz’d, in Consternation lost,
Attend the stern Reply. Tydides broke
The gen’ral Silence, and undaunted spoke.
Why shou’d we Gifts to proud Achilles send,
Or strive with Pray’rs his haughty Soul to bend?
His Country’s Woes he glories to deride,
And Pray’rs will burst that swelling Heart with Pride.
Be the fierce Impulse of his Rage obey’d;
Our Battels let him, or desert, or aid;
Then let him arm when Jove or he think fit;
That, to his Madness, or to Heav’n commit.
What for our selves we can, is always ours;
This Night, let due Repast refresh our Pow’rs;
(For Strength consists in Spirits and in Blood,
And those are ow’d to gen’rous Wine and Food)
But when the rosy Messenger of Day
Strikes the blue Mountains with her golden Ray,
Rang’d at the Ships let all our Squadrons shine,
In flaming Arms, a long-extended Line:
In the dread Front let great Atrides stand,
The first in Danger, as in high Command.
Shouts of Acclaim the list’ning Heroes raise,
Then each to Heav’n the due Libations pays;
Till Sleep descending o’er the Tents, bestows
The grateful Blessings of desir’d Repose.
Observations on the 9th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
- Note LVIII.
- Note LIX.
- Note LX.
Note I.
WE have here a new Scene of Action opened; the Poet has hitherto given us an Account of what happened by Day only: the two following Books relate the Adventures of the Night.
It may be thought that Homer has crowded a great many Actions into a very short Time. In the ninth Book a Council is conven’d, an Embassy sent, a considerable Time passes in the Speeches and Replies of the Embassadors and Achilles: In the tenth Book a second Council is call’d, after this a Debate is held, Dolon is intercepted, Diomed and Ulysses enter into the Enemy’s Camp, kill Rhesus, and bring away his Horses: And all this done in the narrow Compass of one Night.
It must therefore be remember’d that the ninth Book takes up the first Part of the Night only; that after the first Council was dissolv’d, there pass’d some time before the second was summon’d, as appears by the Leaders being awakened by Menelaus. So that it was almost Morning before Diomed and Ulysses set out upon their Design, which is very evident from the Words of Ulysses, Book. 10. ℣. 251.
[Greek]
So that altho’ a great many Incidents are introduc’d, yet every thing might easily have been perform’d in the allotted Time.
Note II.
VERSE 7. From Thracia ’s Shore. ]
Homer has been suppos’d by Eratosthenes and others, to have been guilty of an Error, in saying that Zephyrus or the West Wind blows from Thrace, whereas in Truth it blows toward it. But the Poet speaks so either because it is fabled to be the Rendezvous of all the Winds; or with respect to the particular Situation of Troy and the Aegean Sea. Either of these Replies are sufficient to solve that Objection.
The particular Parts of this Comparison agree admirably with the Design of Homer, to express the Distraction of the Greeks: the two Winds representing the different Opinions of the Armies, one Part of which were inclin’d to return, the other to stay. Eustathius.
Note III.
VERSE 15. But bid in Silence. ]
The Reason why Agamemnon commands his Heralds to summon the Leaders in Silence, is for fear the Enemy should discover their Consternation, by reason of their Nearness, or perceive what their Designs were in this Extremity. Eustathius.
Note IV.
VERSE 23. Agamemnon ’s Speech. ]
The Criticks are divided in their Opinion whether this Speech, which is word for word the same with that he makes in Lib. 2. be only a Feint to try the Army, as it is there, or the real Sentiments of the General. Dionysius of Halicarnassus explains it as the former, with whom Madam Dacier concurs; she thinks they must be both counterfeit, because they are both the same, and believes Homer would have varied them, had the Design been different. She takes no notice that Eustathius is of the contrary Opinion; as is also Monsieur de la Motte, who argues as if he had read him.
" Agamemnon (says he) in the second Iliad thought himself assured of Victory from the Dream which Jupiter had sent to him, and in that Confidence was desirous to bring the Greeks to a Battel: But in the ninth Book his Circumstances are changed, he is in the utmost Distress and Despair upon his Defeat, and therefore his Proposal to raise the Siege is in all Probability sincere. If Homer had intended we should think otherwise, he would have told us so, as he did on the former Occasion; and some of the Officers would have suspected a Feint the rather, because they had been impos’d upon by the same Speech before. But none of them suspect him at all. Diomed thinks him so much in earnest as to reproach his Cowardice, Nestor applauds Diomed’s Liberty, and Agamemnon makes not the least Defence for himself.
Dacier answers, that Homer had no Occasion to tell us this was counterfeit, because the Officers could not but remember it to have been so before; and as for the Answers of Diomed and Nestor, they only carry on the same Feint, as Dionysius has prov’d, whose Reasons may be seen in the following Note.
I do not pretend to decide upon this Point; but which way soever it be, I think Agamemnon’s Design was equally answer’d by repeating the same Speech: So that the Repetition at least is not to be blamed in Homer. What obliged Agamemnon to that Feint in the second Book was the Hatred he had incurred in the Army by being the Cause of Achilles’s Departure; this made it but a necessary Precaution in him to try, before he came to a Battel, whether the Greeks were dispos’d to it? And it was equally necessary, in case the Event should prove unsuccessful, to free himself from the Odium of being the occasion of it. Therefore when they were now actually defeated, to repeat the same Words, was the readiest way to put them in mind that he had propos’d the same Advice to them before the Battel; and to make it appear unjust that their ill Fortune should be charged upon him. See the 5 th and 8 th Notes on the second Iliad.
Note V.
VERSE 43. The Speech of Diomed.]
I shall here translate the Criticism of Dionysius on this Passage. He asks,
"What can be the Drift of Diomed, when he insults Agamemnon in his Griefs and Distresses? For what Diomed here says seems not only very ill tim’d, but inconsistent with his own Opinion, and with the Respect he had shewn in the beginning of this very Speech. If I upbraid thee, Prince, thy Wrath with-hold, The Laws of Council bid my Tongue be bold. This is the Introduction of a Man in Temper, who is willing to soften and Excuse the Liberty of what is to follow, and what Necessity only obliges him to utter. But he subjoins a Resentment of the Reproach the King had formerly thrown upon him, and tells him that Jupiter had given him Power and Dominion without Courage and Virtue. These are things which agree but ill together, that Diomed should upbraid Agamemnon in his Adversity with past Injuries, after he had endur’d his Reproaches with so much Moderation, and had reproved Sthenelus so warmly for the contrary Practice in the fourth Book. If any one answer, that Diomed was warranted in this Freedom by the Bravery of his warlike Behaviour since that Reproach, he supposes this Hero very ignorant how to demean himself in Prosperity. The Truth is, this whole Accusation of Diomed’s is only a Feint to serve the Designs of Agamemnon. For being desirous to persuade the Greeks against their Departure, he effects that Design by this counterfeited Anger, and License of Speech: And seeming to resent, that Agamemnon should be capable of imagining the Army would return to Greece, he artificially makes use of these Reproaches to cover his Argument. This is farther confirm’d by what follows, when he bids Agamemnon return, if he pleases, and affirms that the Grecians will stay without him. Nay he carries the Matter so
far, as to boast, that if all the rest should depart, himself and Sthenelus alone would continue the War, which would be extremely childish and absurd in any other View than this.
Note VI.
VERSE 73. The Speech of Nestor.]
" Nestor (continues Dionysius ) seconds the Oration of Diomed: We shall perceive the Artifice of his Discourse, if we reflect to how little Purpose it would be without this Design. He praises Diomed for what he has said, but does it not without declaring, that he had not spoken fully to the Purpose, and fallen short in some Points, which he ascribes to his Youth, and promises to supply them. Then after a long Preamble, when he has turn’d himself several ways, as if he was sporting in a new and uncommon Vein of Oratory, he concludes by ordering the Watch to their Stations, and advising Agamemnon to invite the Elders of the Army to a Supper, there, out of many Counsels, to chuse the best. All this at first Sight appears absurd: But we must know that Nestor too speaks in Figure. Diomed seems to quarrel with Agamemnon, purely to gratify him; but Nestor praises his Liberty of Speech, as it were to vindicate a real Quarrel with the King. The End of all this is only to move Agamemnon to supplicate Achilles; and to that End he so much commends the young Man’s Freedom. In proposing to call a Council only of the eldest, he consults the Dignity of Agamemnon, that he might not be expos’d to make this Condescension before the younger Officers. And he concludes by an artful Inference of the absolute Necessity of applying to Achilles from the present Posture of their Affairs. See what a Blaze from hostile Tents aspires, How near our Fleets approach the Trojan Fires! This is all Nestor says at this time before the general Assembly of the Greeks; but in his next Speech, when the Elders only are present, he explains the whole Matter at
large, and openly declares that they must have Recourse to Achilles.
Dion. Hal. [Greek]p. 2.
Plutarch de aud. Poetis, takes notice of this Piece of Decorum in Nestor, who when he intended to move for a Mediation with Achilles, chose not to do it in publick, but propos’d a private Meeting of the Chiefs to that End. If what these two great Authors have said be consider’d, there will be no room for the trivial Objection some Moderns have made to this Proposal of Nestor’s, as if in the present Distress he did no more than impertinently advise them to go to Supper.
Note VII.
VERSE 53. They gave thee Sceptres, &c.]
This is the Language of a brave Man, to affirm and say boldly, that Courage is above Scepters and Crowns. Scepters and Crowns were indeed in former Times not hereditary, but the Recompence of Valour. With what Art and Haughtiness Diomed sets himself indirectly above Agamemnon? Eustathius.
Note VIII.
VERSE 62. And nearest to the Main. ]
There is a secret Stroke of Satyr in these Words: Diomed tells the King that his Squadron lies next the Sea, insinuating that they were the most distant from the Battel, and readiest for Flight. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 68. God bade us fight, and ’twas with God we came. ]
This is literal from the Greek, and therein may be seen the Style of holy Scripture, where ’tis said that they come with God, or that they are not come without God, meaning that they did not come without his Order: Numquid sine Domino ascendi in terram istam? says Rabshekah to Hezekiah in Isaiah 36. ℣. 8. This Passage seems to be very beautiful. Homer adds it to shew that the Valour of Diomed, which puts him upon remaining alone with Sthenelus, when all the Greeks were gone, is not a Rash and mad Boldness, but a reasonable one, and founded on the Promises of God himself, who cannot lye. Dacier.
Note X.
VERSE 73. Oh truly great. ]
Nestor could do no less than commend Diomed’s Valour, he had lately been a Witness of it when he was preserv’d from falling into the Enemy’s Hands till he was rescu’d by Diomed. Eustathius.
Note XI.
VERSE 87. Curs’d is the Man. ]
Nestor, says the same Author, very artfully brings in these Words as a general Maxim, in order to dispose Agamemnon to a Reconciliation with Achilles: He delivers it in general Terms, and leaves the King to make the Application. This Passage is translated with Liberty, for the Original comprizes a great deal in a very few Words, [Greek]; it will be proper to give a particular Explication of each of these; [Greek], says Eustathius, signifies one who is a Vagabond or Foreigner. The Athenians kept a Register, in which all that were born were enroll’d, whence it easily appear’d who were Citizens, or not; [Greek]therefore signifies one who is depriv’d of the Privilege of a Citizen. [Greek]is one that had forfeited all Title to be protected by the Laws of his Country. [Greek], one that has no Habitation, or rather one that was not permitted to partake of any Family Sacrifice. For [Greek]is a Family Goddess; and Jupiter sometimes is called [Greek]There is a sort of Gradation in these Words. [Greek]signifies a Man that has lost the Privileges of his Country; [Greek]those of his own Tribe, and [Greek]those of his own Family.
Note XII.
VERSE 94. Between the Trench and Wall. ]
It is almost impossible to make such Particularities as these appear with any tolerable Elegance in Poetry: And as they cannot be rais’d, so neither must they be omitted. This particular Space here mention’d between the Trench and Wall, is what we must carry in our Mind thro’ this and the following Book: Otherwise we shall be at a loss to know the exact Scene of the Actions and Councils that follow.
Note XIII.
VERSE 119. The Fires they light. ]
They lighted up a Fire that they might not seem to be under any Consternation, but to be upon their Guard against any Alarm. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 124. When Thirst and Hunger ceast. ]
The Conduct of Homer in this Place is very remarkable; he does not fall into a long Description of the Entertainment, but complies with the Exigence of Affairs, and passes on to the Consultation. Eustathius.
Note XV.
VERSE 138. And make the Wisdom thine. ]
Eustathius thought that Homer said this, because in Councils, as in the Army, all is attributed to the Princes, and the whole Honour ascrib’d to them: but this is by no means Homer’s Thought. What he here says, is a Maxim drawn from profoundest Philosophy. That which often does Men the most harm, is Envy, and the Shame of yielding to Advice, which proceeds from others. There is more Greatness and Capacity in following good Advice, than in proposing it; by executing it, we render it our own, and we ravish even the Property of it from its Author; and Eustathius seems to incline to this Thought, when he afterwards says, Homer makes him that follows good Advice, equal to him that gives it; but he has not fully express’d himself. Dacier.
Note XVI.
VERSE 140. At once my present Judgment and my past. ]
Nestor here by the word [Greek], means the Advice he gave at the time of the Quarrel in the first Book: He says, as it was his Opinion then that Agamemnon ought not to disgrace Achilles, so after the maturest Deliberation, he finds no Reason to alter it. Nestor here launches out into the Praises of Achilles, which is a secret Argument to induce Agamemnon to regain his Friendship, by shewing the Importance of it. Eustathius.
Note XVII.
VERSE 151. This wondrous Hero. ]
It is remarkable that Agamemnon here never uses the Name of Achilles: tho’ he is resolv’d to court his Friendship, yet he cannot bear the mention of his Name. The Impression which the Dissention made, is not yet worn off, tho’ he expatiates in Commendation of his Valour. Eustathius.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 155. If Gifts immense his mighty Soul can bow. ]
The Poet, says Eustathius, makes a wise Choice of the Gifts that are to be proffer’d to Achilles. Had he been ambitious of Wealth, there are golden Tripods, and ten Talents of Gold to bribe his Resentment. If he had been addicted to the Fair Sex, there was a King’s Daughter and seven fair Captives to win his Favour. Or if he had been ambitious of Greatness, there were seven wealthy Cities and a Kingly Power to court him to a Reconciliation: But he takes this way to shew us that his Anger was stronger than all his other Passions. It is farther observable, that Agamemnon promises these Presents at three different times; first, at this Instant; secondly, on the taking of Troy; and lastly, after their Return to Greece. This Division in some degree multiplies them. Dacier.
Note XIX.
VERSE 157. Ten weighty Talents. ]
The ancient Criticks have blamed one of the Verses in the Enumeration of these Presents, as not sufficiently flowing and harmonious, the Pause is ill placed, and one word does not fall easily into the other. This will appear very plain if we compare it with a more numerous Verse.
[Greek]
The Ear immediately perceives the Musick of the former Line, every Syllable glides smoothly away, without offending the Ear with any such Roughness, as is found in the second. The first runs as swiftly as the Wind which it describes; but the latter is a broken interrupted uneven Verse. But it is certainly pardonable in this Place, where the Musick of Poetry is not necessary; the Mind is entirely taken up in learning what Presents Agamemnon intended to make Achilles: and is not at leisure to regard the Ornaments of Versification; and even those Pauses are not without their Beauties, as they would of Necessity cause a Stop in the Delivery, and so give time for each Particular to sink into the Mind of Achilles. Eustathius.
Note XX.
VERSE 159. Sev’n sacred Tripods. ]
There were two kinds of Tripods: in the one they used to boil Water, the other was entirely for Shew, to mix Wine and Water in, says Athenaeus: the first were called [Greek], or Cauldrons, for common Use, and made to bear the Fire; the other were [Greek], and made chiefly for Ornament. It may be ask’d why this could be a proper Present for Achilles, who was a martial Man, and regarded nothing but Arms? It may be answer’d, that these Presents were very well suited to the Person to whom they were sent, as Tripods in ancient Days were the usual Prizes in Games, and they were given by Achilles himself in those which he exhibited in Honour of Patroclus: the same may be said of the female Captives, which are also among the Prizes in the Games of Patroclus. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 161. Twelve Steeds unmatch’d. ]
From hence it is evident that Games us’d to be celebrated in the Grecian Army during the Time of War; perhaps in Honour of the deceas’d Heroes. For had Agamemnon sent Achilles Horses that had been victorious before the beginning of the Trojan War, they would by this time have been too old to be of any Value. Eustathius.
Note XXII
VERSE 189. Laodice and Iphigenia, &c.]
These are the Names of Agamemnon’s Daughters, among which we do not find Electra. But some affirm, says Eustathius, that Laodice and Electra are the same, (as Iphianassa is the same with Iphigenia ) and she was called so, either by way of Sir-name, or by reason of her Complexion, which was [Greek]flava; or by way of Derision [Greek]quasi [Greek], because she was an old Maid, as appears from Euripides, who says that she remain’d long a Virgin.
[Greek]
And in Sophocles she says of herself, [Greek]I wander a disconsolate unmarry’d Virgin, which shews that it was ever look’d upon as a Disgrace to continue long so.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 192. I ask no Presents—My self will give the Dow’r. ]
For in Greece the Bridegroom, before he marry’d, was obliged to make two Presents, one to his betroth’d Wife, and the other to his Father in Law. This Custom is very ancient; it was practised by the Hebrews in the time of the Patriarchs. Abraham’s Servant gave Necklaces and Ear-rings to Rebecca, whom he demanded for Isaac. Genesis 24. 22. Shechem Son of Hamor says to Jacob and his Sons, whose Sister he was desirous to espouse,
"Ask me never so much Dowry and Gifts.
Genesis 34. 12. For the Dowry was for the Daughter. This Present serv’d for her Dowry, and the other Presents were for the Father. In the first Book of Samuel 18. 25. Saul makes them say to David, who by reason of his Poverty said he could not be Son in Law to the King:
"The King desireth not any Dowry.
And in the two last Passages, we see the Presents were commonly regulated by the Father of the Bride. There is no mention in Homer of any Present made to the Father, but only of that which was given to the married Daughter, which was call’d [Greek]. The Dowry which the Father gave to his Daughter was called [Greek]: Wherefore Agamemnon says here [Greek]Dacier.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 209. Pluto, the grizly God, who never spares. ]
The meaning of this may be gather’d from Aeschylus, cited here by Eustathius.
[Greek]
Death is the only God who is not mov’d by Offerings, whom you cannot conquer by Sacrifices and Oblations, and therefore he is the only God to whom no Altar is erected, and no Hymns are sung.
Note XXV.
VERSE 221. Let Phoenix lead. ]
How comes it to pass that Phoenix is in the Grecian Camp: when undoubtedly he retir’d with his Pupil Achilles? Eustathius says the Ancients conjectur’d that he came to the Camp to see the last Battel: and indeed nothing is more natural to imagine, than that Achilles would be impatient to know the Event of the Day, when he was himself absent from the Fight: and as his Revenge and Glory were to be satisfied by the ill Success of the Grecians, It is highly probable that he sent Phoenix to enquire after it. Eustathius farther observes, Phoenix was not an Embassador, but only the Conductor of the Embassy. This is evident from the Words themselves, which are all along deliver’d in the dual Number; and farther from Achilles’s requiring Phoenix to stay with him when the other two departed.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 222. Great Ajax next, and Ithacus the sage. ]
The Choice of these Persons is made with a great deal of Judgment. Achilles could not but reverence the venerable Phoenix his Guardian and Tutor. Ajax and Ulysses had been disgrac’d in the first Book, Line 145, as well as he, and were therefore Instances of that Forgiveness they came to ask: besides it was the greatest Honour that could be done to Achilles to send the most worthy Personages in the Army to him. Ulysses was inferior to none in Eloquence but to Nestor. Ajax was second to none in Valour but to Achilles. Ajax might have an Influence over him as a Relation, by Descent from Aeacus, Ulysses as an Orator: To these are join’d Hodius and Eurybates, two Heralds, which tho it were not customary, yet was necessary in this Place, both to certify Achilles that this Embassage was the Act of Agamemnon himself, and also to make these Persons who had been Witnesses before God and Man of the Wrong done to Achilles in respect to Briseis, Witnesses also of the Satisfaction given him. Eustathius.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 235. Much he advis’d them all, Ulysses most. ]
There is a great Propriety in representing Nestor as so particularly applying himself on this Occasion to Ulysses. Tho’ he of all Men had the least need of his Instructions; yet it is highly natural for one wise Man to talk most to another.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 246. Pleas’d with the solemn Harp’s harmonious Sound. ]
" Homer (says Plutarch ) to prove what an excellent Use may be made of Musick, feign’d Achilles to compose by this means the Wrath he had conceiv’d against Agamemnon. He sung to his Harp the noble Actions of the Valiant, and the Atchievements of Heroes and Demigods, a Subject worthy of Achilles. Homer moreover teaches us in this Fiction the proper Season for Musick, when a Man is at leisure and unemploy’d in greater Affairs. For Achilles, so valorous as he was, had retir’d from Action thro’ his Displeasure to Agamemnon. And nothing was better suited to the martial Disposition of this Hero, than these heroick Songs, that prepared him for the Deeds and Toils he afterwards undertook, by the Celebration of the like in those who had gone before him. Such was the ancient Musick, and to such Purposes it was apply’d.
Plut. of Musick. The same Author relates in the Life of Alexander, that when the Lyre of Paris was offer’d to that Prince, he made answer,
"He had little Value for it, but much desired that of Achilles, on which he sung the Actions of Heroes in former Times.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 261. Princes all hail! ]
This short Speech is wonderfully proper to the Occasion, and to the Temper of the Speaker. One is under a great Expectation of what Achilles will say at the Sight of these Heroes, and I know nothing in Nature that could satisfy it, but the very thing he here accosts them with.
Note XXX.
VERSE 268. Mix purer Wine. ]
The Meaning of this word [Greek]is very dubious; some say it signifies warm Wine, from [Greek]ferveo: According to Aristotle, it is an Adverb, and implies to mix Wine quickly. And others think it signifies pure Wine. In this last Sense Herodotus uses it.
[Greek].
Which in English is thus:
"When the Spartans have an Inclination to drink their Wine pure and not diluted, they propose to drink after the Manner of the Scythians; some of whom coming Embassadors to Sparta, taught Cleomenes to drink his Wine unmix’d.
I think this Sense of the Word is most natural, and Achilles might give this particular Order not to dilute the Wine so much as usually, because the Embassadors who were brave Men, might be suppos’d to be much fatigu’d in the late Battel, and to want a more than usual Refreshment. Eustathius. See Plutarch Symp. l. 4. c. 5.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 271. Patroclus o’er the blazing Fire, &c.]
The Reader must not expect to find much Beauty in such Descriptions as these: they give us an exact Account of the Simplicity of that Age, which for all we know might be a Part of Homer’s Design; there being, no doubt, a considerable Change of Customs in Greece from the Time of the Trojan War to those wherein our Author lived; and it seem’d demanded of him to omit nothing that might give the Greeks an Idea of the Manners of their Predecessors. But however that Matter stood, it should methinks be a Pleasure to a modern Reader to see how such mighty Men, whose Actions have surviv’d their Persons three thousand Years, liv’d in the earliest Ages of the World. The Embassadors found this Hero, says Eustathius, without any Attendants, he had no Ushers or Waiters to introduce them, no servile Parasites about him: The latter Ages degenerated into these Pieces of State and Pageantry.
The Supper also is describ’d with an equal Simplicity: three Princes are busied in preparing it, and they who made the greatest Figure in the Field of Battel, thought it no Disparagement to prepare their own Repast. The Objections some have made that Homer’s Gods and Heroes do every thing for themselves, as if several of those Offices were unworthy of them, proceeds from the corrupt Idea of modern Luxury and Grandeur: Whereas in truth it is rather a Weakness and Imperfection to stand in need of the Assistance and Ministry of others. But however it be, methinks those of the nicest Taste might relish this Entertainment of Homer’s, when they consider these great Men as Soldiers in a Camp, in whom the least Appearance of Luxury would have been a Crime.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 271. Patroclus o’er the blazing Fire. ]
Madam Dacier’s general Note on this Passage deserves to be transcribed.
" Homer, says she, is in the right not to avoid these Descriptions, because nothing can properly be called vulgar which is drawn from the Manner and Usages of Persons of the first Dignity; and also because in his Tongue even the Terms of Cookery are so noble, and of so agreeable a Sound, and he likewise knows how to place them so well, as to extract a perfect Harmony from them: So that he may be said to be as excellent a Poet, when he describes these small Matters, as when he treats of the greatest Subjects. ’Tis not so either with our Manners, or our Language. Cookery is left to Servants, and all its Terms so low and disagreeable, even in the Sound, that nothing can be made of them, that has not some Taint of their Meanness. This great Disadvantage made me at first think of abridging this Preparation of the Repast; but when I had well consider’d
it, I was resolv’d to preserve and give Homer as he is, without retrenching any thing from the Simplicity of the heroick Manners. I do not write to enter the List against Homer, I will dispute nothing with him; my Design is only to give an Idea of him, and to make him be understood: The Reader will therefore forgive me if this Description has none of its original Graces.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 272. In a Brazen Vase. ]
The word [Greek]signifies the Vessel, and not the Meat itself, as Euphorion conjectured, giving it as a Reason that Homer makes no mention of boiled Meat: But this does not hinder but that the Meat might be parboil’d in the Vessel to make it roast the sooner. This, with some other Notes on the Particulars of this Passage, belong to Eustathius, and Madam Dacier ought not to have taken to herself the Merit of his Explanations.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 282. And sprinkles sacred Salt. ]
Many Reasons are given why Salt is called sacred or divine, but the best is because it preserves things incorrupt, and keeps them from Dissolution.
"So Thunder (says Plutarch Sympos. l. 5. qu. 10.) is called divine, because Bodies struck with Thunder will not putrify; besides Generation is divine, because God is the Principle of all things, and Salt is most operative in Generation. Lycophron calls it [Greek]: For this Reason Venus was feign’d by the Poets to spring from the Sea.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 291. To Phoenix Ajax gave the Sign. ]
Ajax who was a rough Soldier and no Orator, is impatient to have the Business over: He makes a Sign to Phoenix to begin, but Ulysses prevents him. Perhaps Ulysses might flatter himself that his Oratory would prevail upon Achilles, and so obtain the Honour of making the Reconciliation himself: Or if he were repuls’d, there yet remain’d a second and third Resource in Ajax and Phoenix, who might renew the Attempt, and endeavour to shake his Resolution: There would still be some hopes of Success, as one of these was his Guardian, the other his Relation. One may farther add to these Reasons of Eustathius, that it would have been improper for Phoenix to have spoken first, since he was not an Embassador; and therefore Ulysses was the fitter Person, as being impower’d by that Function to make an Offer of the Presents in the Name of the King.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 295. Health to Achilles.]
There are no Discourses in the Iliad better placed, better tim’d, or that give a greater Idea of Homer’s Genius, than these of the Embassadors to Achilles. These Speeches are not only necessarily demanded by the Occasion, but disposed with Art, and in such an Order, as raises more and more the Pleasure of the Reader. Ulysses speaks the first, the Character of whose Discourse is a well-address’d Eloquence; so the Mind is agreeably engag’d by the Choice of his Reasons and Applications: Achilles replies with a magnanimous Freedom, whereby the Mind is elevated with the Sentiments of the Hero: Phoenix discourses in a manner touching and pathetick, whereby the Heart is moved: and Ajax concludes with a generous Disdain, that leaves the Soul of the Reader inflamed. This Order undoubtedly denotes a great Poet, who knows how to command Attention as he pleases by the Arrangement of his Matter; and I believe it it not possible to propose a better Model for the happy Disposition of a Subject. These Words are Monsieur de la Motte’s, and no Testimony can be more glorious to Homer than this, which comes from the Mouth of an Enemy.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 296. Not those more honour’d whom Atrides feasts. ]
I must just mention Dacier’s Observation: With what Cunning Ulysses here slides in the odious Name of Agamemnon, as he praises Achilles, that the Ear of this impetuous Man might be familiariz’d to that Name.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 314. He waits but for the Morn, to sink in Flame The Ships, the Greeks, &c.]
There is a Circumstance in the Original which I have omitted, for fear of being too particular in an Oration of this Warmth and Importance; but as it preserves a Piece of Antiquity I must not forget it here. He says that Hector will not only fire the Fleet, but bear off the Statues of the Gods, which were carv’d on the Prows of the Vessels. These were hung up in the Temples, as a Monument of Victory, according to the Custom of those Times.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 342. But hear me, while I number o’er The proffer’d Presents. ]
Monsieur de la Motte finds fault with Homer for making Ulysses in this Place repeat all the Offers of Agamemnon to Achilles. Not to answer that it was but necessary to make known to Achilles all the Proposals, or that this distinct Enumeration serv’d the more to move him, I think one may appeal to any Person of common Taste whether the solemn Recital of these Circumstances does not please him more, than the simple Narration could have done, which Monsieur de la Motte would have put in its stead. Ulysses made all the Offers Agamemnon had commission’d him.
Note XL.
VERSE 406. Achilles ’s Speech. ]
Nothing is more remarkable than the Conduct of Homer in this Speech of Achilles. He begins with some degree of Coolness, as in respect to the Embassadors whose Persons he esteem’d, yet even there his Temper just shews itself in the Insinuation that Ulysses had dealt artfully with him, which in two Periods rises into an open Detestation of all Artifice. He then falls into a sullen Declaration of his Resolves, and a more sedate Representation of his past Services; but warms as he goes on, and every Minute he but names his Wrongs, flies out into Extravagance. His Rage awaken’d by that Injury, is like a Fire blown by a Wind, that sinks and rises by fits, but keeps continually burning, and blazes but the more for those Intermissions.
Note XLI.
VERSE 424. As the bold Bird, &c.]
This Simile (says La Motte ) must be allow’d to be just, but was not fit to be spoken in a Passion. One may answer, that the Tenderness of the Comparison renders it no way the less proper to a Man in a Passion, it being natural enough, the more one is disgusted at present, the more to recollect the Kindness we have formerly shewn to those who are ungrateful. Eustathius observes, that so soft as the Simile seems, it has nevertheless its fiertè; for Achilles herein expresses his Contempt for the Greeks, as a weak defenceless People, who must have perished if he had not preserved them. And indeed if we consider what is said in the preceding Note, it will appear that the Passion of Achilles ought not as yet to be at the Height.
Note XLII.
VERSE 432. I sack’d twelve ample Cities. ]
Eustathius says, that the Anger of Achilles not only throws him into Tautology, but also into Ambiguity: For, says he, these Words may either signify that he destroy’d twelve Cities with his Ships, or barely Cities with twelve Ships. But Eustathius in this Place is like many other Commentators, who can see a Meaning in a Sentence that never enter’d into the Thoughts of an Author. It is not easy to conceive how Achilles could have express’d himself more clearly. There is no doubt but [Greek]agrees with the same word that [Greek]does, in the following Line, which is certainly [Greek]: and there is a manifest Enumeration of the Places he had conquer’d, by Sea, and by Land.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 450. The Wife whom Choice and Passion both approve, Sure ev’ry wise and worthy Man will love. ]
The Argument of Achilles in this Place is very a-propos with Reference to the Case of Agamemnon. If I translated it verbatim, I must say in plain English, Every honest Man loves his Wife. Thus Homer has made this rash, this fiery Soldier, govern’d by his Passions, and in the Rage of Youth, bear Testimony to his own Respect for the Ladies. But it seems Poltis King of Thrace was of another Opinion, who would have parted with two Wives, out of pure Good-nature to two meer Strangers; as I have met with the Story somewhere in Plutarch. When the Greeks were raising Forces against Troy, they sent Embassadors to this Poltis to desire his Assistance. He enquir’d the Cause of the War, and was told it was the Injury Paris had done Menelaus in taking his Wife from him.
"If that be all, said the good King, let me accomodate the Difference: Indeed it is not just the Greek Prince should lose a Wife, and on the other side it is pity the Trojan should want one. Now I have two Wives, and to prevent all this Mischief, I’ll send one of them to Menelaus, and the other to Paris.
It is a shame this Story is so little known, and that poor Poltis yet remains uncelebrated: I cannot but recommend him to the modern Poets.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 457. Your King, Ulysses, may consult with you. ]
Achilles still remembers what Agamemnon said to him when they quarrel’d, Other brave Warriors will be left behind to follow me in Battel, as we have seen in the first Book. He answers here without either sparing Ajax or Ulysses; as much his Friends as they are, they have their Share in this Stroke of Raillery. Eustathius.
Note XLV.
VERSE 459. Has he not Walls? ]
This is a bitter Satyr (says Eustathius ) against Agamemnon, as if his only Deeds were the making of this Wall, this Ditch, these Pallisades, to defend himself against those whom he came to besiege: There was no need of these Retrenchments, whilst Achilles fought. But (as Dacier observes) this Satyr does not affect Agamemnon only, but Nestor too, who had advis’d the making of these Retrenchments, and who had said in the second Book, If there are a few who separate themselves from the rest of the Army, let them stay and perish, ℣. 346. Probably this had been reported to Achilles, and that Hero revenges himself here by mocking these Retrenchments.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 473. Pthia the third Day hence, &c.]
Monsieur de la Motte thinks the mention of these minute Circumstances not to agree with the passionate Character of the Speaker; that he shall arrive at Pthia in three Days, that he shall find there all the Riches he left when he came to the Siege, and that he shall carry other Treasures home. Dacier answers, that we need only consider the present Situation of Achilles, and his Cause of Complaint against Agamemnon, and we shall be satisfied here is nothing but what is exactly agreeable to the Occasion. To convince the Embassadors that he will return home, he instances the Easiness of doing it, in the Space of three Days. Agamemnon had injur’d him in the Point of Booty, he therefore declares he had sufficient Treasures at home, and that he will carry off Spoils enough, and Women enough, to make amends for those that Prince had ravish’d from him. Every one of these Particulars marks his Passion and Resentment.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 481. One only valu’d Gift your Tyrant gave. ]
The Injury which Agamemnon offer’d to Achilles is still uppermost in his Thoughts, he has but just dismiss’d it, and now returns to it again. These Repetitions are far from being Faults in Achilles’s Wrath, whose Anger is perpetually breaking out upon the same Injury.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 494. Kings of such a kind Stand but as Slaves before a noble Mind. ]
The Words in the Greek are, I despise him as a Carian. The Carians were People of Boeotia, the first that sold their Valour, and were ready to fight for any that gave them their Pay. This was look’d upon as the vilest of Actions in those heroical Ages. I think there is at present but one Nation in the World distinguish’d for this Practice, who are ready to prostitute their Hands to kill for the highest Bidder.
Eustathius endeavours to give many other Solutions of this Place, as that [Greek]may be mistaken for [Greek]from [Greek], pediculus; but this is too mean and trivial to be Homer’s Sentiment. There is more Probability that it comes from [Greek], [Greek], and so [Greek]by the Change of the Eta into Alpha; and then the Meaning will be, that Achilles hates him as much as Hell or Death, agreeable to what he had said a little before.
[Greek]
Note L.
VERSE 500. Proud Thebes’ unrival’d Walls, &c.]
"The City which the Greeks call Thebes, the Aegyptians Heliopolis (says Diodorus lib. 1. part. 2.) was in Circuit a hundred and forty Stadia, adorned with stately Buildings, magnificent Temples, and rich Donations. It was not only the most beautiful and noble City of Aegypt, but of the whole World. The Fame of its Wealth and Grandeur was so celebrated in all Parts, that the Poet took notice of it in these Words. — [Greek]Tho’ others affirm it had not a hundred Gates, but several vast Porches to the Temples; from whence the City was call’d the Hundred-gated, only as having many Gates. Yet it is certain it furnished twenty thousand Chariots of War; for there were a hundred Stables along the River,
from Memphis to Thebes towards Lybia, each of which contain’d two hundred Horses, the Ruins whereof are shewn at this Day. The Princes from time to time made it their care to beautify and enlarge this City, to which none under the Sun was equal in the many and magnificent Treasures of Gold, Silver, and Ivory; with innumerable Colossus’s, and Obelisques of one entire Stone. There were four Temples admirable in Beauty and Greatness, the most ancient of which was in Circuit thirteen Stadia, and five and forty Cubits in Heighth, with a Wall of four and twenty Foot broad. The Ornaments and Offerings within were agreeable to this Magnificence, both in Value and Workmanship. The Fabrick is yet remaining, but the Gold, Silver, Ivory, and precious Stones were ransack’d by the Persians when Cambyses burn’d the Temples of Aegypt. There were found in the Rubbish above three hundred Talents of Gold, and no less than two thousand three hundred of Silver.
The same Author proceeds to give many Instances of the Magnificence of this great City. The Description of the Sepulchres of their Kings, and particularly that of Osymanduas, is perfectly astonishing, to which I refer the Reader.
Strabo farther informs us, that the Kings of Thebes extended their Conquests as far as Scythia, Bactria, and India.
Note LI.
VERSE 525. Not all Apollo ’s Pythian Treasures. ]
The Temple of Apollo at Delphos was the richest Temple in the World, by the Offerings which were brought to it from all Parts; there were Statues of massy Gold of a human Size, Figures of Animals in Gold, and several other Treasures. A great Sign of its Wealth is, that the Phocians pillag’d it in the Time of Philip the Son of Amyntas, which gave Occasion to the holy War. ’Tis said to have been pillag’d before, and that the great Riches of which Homer speaks, had been carried away. Eustathius.
Note LII.
VERSE 530. The vital Spirit bled, Returns no more. ]
Nothing sure could be better imagin’d, or more strongly paint Achilles’s Resentment, than this Commendation which Homer puts into his Mouth of a long and peaceable Life. That Hero whose very Soul was possessed with Love of Glory, and who prefer’d it to Life itself, lets his Anger prevail over this his darling Passion: He despises even Glory, when he cannot obtain that, and enjoy his Revenge at the same time; and rather than lay this aside, becomes the very Reverse of himself.
Note LIII.
VERSE 532. My Fates long since by Thetis were disclos’d. ]
It was very necessary for Homer to put the Reader more than once in mind of this Piece of Achilles’s Story: There is a Remark of Monsieur de la Motte which deserves to be transcribed entire on this Occasion.
"The Generality of People who do not know Achilles by the Iliad, and who upon a most noted Fable conceive him invulnerable all but in the Heel, find it ridiculous that he should be placed at the Head of Heroes; so true it is, that the Idea of Valour implies it always from Danger. "Should a Giant, well arm’d, fight against a Legion of Children, whatever Slaughter he should make, the Pity any one would have for them would not turn at all to any Admiration of him, and the more he should applaud his own Courage, the more one would be offended at his Pride. " Achilles had been in this Case, if Homer, besides all the Superiority of Strength he has given him, had not found the Art of putting likewise his Greatness of Soul out of all Suspicion. "He has perfectly well succeeded, in feigning that Achilles before his setting out to the Trojan War, was sure of meeting his Death. The Destinies had proposed to him by the
"The Generality of People who do not know Achilles by the Iliad, and who upon a most noted Fable conceive him invulnerable all but in the Heel, find it ridiculous that he should be placed at the Head of Heroes; so true it is, that the Idea of Valour implies it always from Danger.
"Should a Giant, well arm’d, fight against a Legion of Children, whatever Slaughter he should make, the Pity any one would have for them would not turn at all to any Admiration of him, and the more he should applaud his own Courage, the more one would be offended at his Pride.
" Achilles had been in this Case, if Homer, besides all the Superiority of Strength he has given him, had not found the Art of putting likewise his Greatness of Soul out of all Suspicion.
"He has perfectly well succeeded, in feigning that Achilles before his setting out to the Trojan War, was sure of meeting his Death. The Destinies had proposed to him by the
Mouth of Thetis, the Alternative of a long and happy, but obscure Life, if he stay’d in his own State; or of a short but glorious one, if he embrac’d the Vengeance of the Greeks. He wishes for Glory in Contempt of Death; and thus all his Actions, all his Motions are so many Proofs of his Courage; he runs, in hastening his Exploits, to a Death which he knows infallibly attends him; what does it avail him, that he routs every thing almost without Resistance? It is still true, that he every Moment encounters and faces the Sentence of his Destiny, and that he devotes himself generously for Glory. Homer was so sensible that this Idea must force a Concern for Hero, that he scatters it throughout his Poem, to the end that the Reader having it always in view, may esteem Achilles even for what he performs without the least Danger.
Mouth of Thetis, the Alternative of a long and happy, but obscure Life, if he stay’d in his own State; or of a short but glorious one, if he embrac’d the Vengeance of the Greeks. He wishes for Glory in Contempt of Death; and thus all his Actions, all his Motions are so many Proofs of his Courage; he runs, in hastening his Exploits, to a Death which he knows infallibly attends him; what does it avail him, that he routs every thing almost without Resistance? It is still true, that he every Moment encounters and faces the Sentence of his Destiny, and that he devotes himself generously for Glory. Homer was so sensible that this Idea must force a Concern for Hero, that he scatters it throughout his Poem, to the end that the Reader having it always in view, may esteem Achilles even for what he performs without the least Danger.
Note LIV.
VERSE 565. How shall thy Friend, thy Phoenix stay behind. ]
This is a strong Argument to persuade Achilles to stay, but dress’d up in the utmost Tenderness: the venerable old Man rises with Tears in his Eyes, and speaks the Language of Affection. He tells him that he would not be left behind him, tho’ the Gods would free him from the Burthen of old Age, and restore him to his Youth: But in the midst of so much Fondness, he couches a powerful Argument to persuade him not to return home, by adding that his Father sent him to be his Guide and Guardian, Phoenix ought not therefore to follow the Inclinations of Achilles, but Achilles the Directions of Phoenix. Eustathius.
"The Art of this Speech of Phoenix (says Dionysius [Greek], lib. 1.) consists in his seeming to agree with all that Achilles had said: Achilles, he sees, will depart; and he must go along with him; but in assigning the Reasons why he must go with him, he proves that Achilles ought not to depart. And thus while he seems only to shew his Love to his Pupil in his Inability to stay behind him, he indeed challenges the other’s Gratitude for the Benefits he had confer’d upon him in his Infancy and
Education. At the same time that he moves Achilles, he gratifies Agamemnon; and that this was the real Design which he disguised in that manner, we are inform’d by Achilles himself in the Reply he makes: For Homer, and all the Authors that treat of this Figure, generally contrive it so, that the Answers made to these kind of Speeches; discover all the Art and Structure of them. Achilles therefore asks him, Is it for him these Tears are taught to flow, For him these Sorrows, for my mortal Foe? You see the Scholar reveals the Art and Dissimulation of his Master; and as Phoenix had recounted the Benefits done him, he takes off that Expostulation by promising to divide his Empire with him, as may be seen in the same Answer.
Note LV.
VERSE 567. He sent thee early to th’ Achaian Host. ]
Achilles (says Eustathius ) according to some of the Ancients, was but twelve Years old when he went to the Wars of Troy; [Greek]) and it may be gather’d from what the Poet here relates of the Education of Achilles under Phoenix, that the Fable of his being tutor’d by Chiron was the Invention of latter Ages, and unknown to Homer. Mr. Bayle in his Article of Achilles, has very well proved this. He might indeed as he grew up, have learn’d Musick and Physick of Chiron, without having him formally as his Tutor; for it is plain from this Speech that he was put under the Direction of Phoenix as his Governor in Morality, when his Father sent him along with him to the Siege of Troy.
Note LVI.
VERSE 576. My Father, faithless to my Mother’s Arms, &c.]
Homer has been blamed for introducing two long Stories into this Speech of Phoenix; this concerning himself is said not to be in the proper Place, and what Achilles must needs have heard over and over: It also gives (say they) a very ill Impression of Phoenix himself, and makes him appear a very unfit Person to be a Teacher of Morality to the young Hero. It is answer’d, that tho’ Achilles might have known the Story before in general, ’tis proboble Phoenix had not till now so pressing an Occasion to make him discover the Excess his Fury had transported him to, in attempting the Life of his own Father: The whole Story tends to represent the dreadful Effects of Passion; and I cannot but think the Example is the more forcible, as it is drawn from his own Experience.
Note LVII.
VERSE 579. To win the Damsel. ]
The Counsel that this Mother gives to her Son Phoenix is the same that Achitophel gave to Absolom, to hinder him from ever being reconcil’d to David. Et ait Achitophel ad Absolom: ingredere ad concubinos patris tui, quas dimisit ad custodiendam domum, ut cum audierit omnis Israel quod foedaveris patrem tuum, roborentur tecum manus eorum. 2 Sam. 14. 20. Dacier.
Note LVIII.
VERSE 579. Prevent my Sire. ]
This Decency of Homer is worthy Observation, who to remove all the disagreeable Ideas which might proceed from this Intrigue of Phoenix with his Father’s Mistress, took care to give us to understand in one single word, that Amyntor had no share in her Affections, which makes the Action of Phoenix the more excusable. He does it only in Obedience to his Mother, in order to reclaim his Father, and oblige him to live like her Husband: Besides, his Father had yet no Commerce with this Mistress to whose Love he pretended. Had it been otherwise, and had Phoenix committed this sort of Incest, Homer would neither have presented this Image to his Reader, nor Peleus chosen Phoenix to be Governor to Achilles. Dacier.
Note LIX.
VERSE 584. Infernal Jove.]
The Greek is [Greek]. The Ancients gave the Name of Jupiter not only to the God of Heaven, but likewise to the God of Hell, as is seen here, and to the God of the Sea, as appears from Aeschylus. They thereby meant to shew that one sole Deity governed the World; and it was to teach the same Truth, that the ancient Statuaries made Statues of Jupiter, which had three Eyes. Priam had one of them in that manner in the Court of his Palace, which was there in Laomedon’s Time: After the taking of Troy, when the Greeks shar’d the Booty, it fell to Sthenelus’s Lot, who carry’d it into Greece. Dacier.
Note LX.
VERSE 586. Despair and Grief distract, &c.]
I have taken the Liberty to replace here four Verses which Aristarchus had cut out, because of the Horror which the Idea gave him of a Son who is going to kill his Father; but perhaps Aristarchus’s Niceness was too great. These Verses seem to me necessary, and have a very good Effect; for Phoenix’s Aim is to shew Achilles, that unless we overcome our Wrath, we are expos’d to commit the greatest Crimes: He was going to kill his own Father. Achilles in the same manner is going to let his Father Phoenix and all the Greeks perish, if he does not appease his Wrath. Plutarch relates these four Verses in his Treatise of reading the Poets; and adds,
" Aristarchus frightned at this horrible Crime, cut out these Verses; but they do very well in this Place, and on this Occasion, Phoenix intending to shew Achilles what Wrath is, and to what abominable Excesses it hurries Men who do not obey Reason, and who refuse to follow the Counsels of those that advise them.
These sort of Curtailings from Homer, often contrary to all Reason, gave room to Lucian to feign that being in the fortunate Islands, he ask’d Homer a great many Questions. Among other things (says he in his second Book of his true History)
"I ask’d him whether he had made all the Verses which had been rejected in his Poem? He assur’d me they were all his own, which made me laugh at the impertinent and bold Criticisms of Zenodorus and Aristarchus, who had retrench’d them.
Dacier.
Book X THE TENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
UPON the Refusal of Achilles to return to the Army; the Distress of Agamemnon is describ’d in the most lively manner. He takes no Rest that Night, but passes thro’ the Camp, awaking the Leaders, and contriving all possible Methods for the publick Safety. Menelaus, Nestor, Ulysses and Diomed are employ’d in raising the rest of the Captains. They call a Council of War, and determine to send Scouts into the Enemy’s Camp to learn their Posture and discover their Intentions. Diomed undertakes this hazardous Enterprize, and makes choice of Ulysses for his Companion. In their Passage they surprize Dolon, whom Hector had sent on a like Design to the Camp of the Grecians. From him they are inform’d of the Situation of the Trojan and Auxiliary Forces, and particularly of Rhesus and the Thracians who were lately arrived. They pass on with Success, kill Rhesus, with several of his Officers, and seize the famous Horses of that Prince with which they return in Triumph to the Camp. The same Night continues; the Scene lies in the two Camps.
Index to The Argument
- [1-30] Agamemnon's sleepless night and distress
- [31-79] Menelaus awakens; the brothers meet and confer
- [80-113] Agamemnon seeks out Nestor
- [114-149] Nestor agrees and plans to rouse the other chiefs
- [150-206] Nestor rouses Ulysses and Diomed
- [207-240] The leaders assemble for a council of war
- [241-268] A spy mission is proposed; Diomed volunteers
- [269-298] Diomed chooses Ulysses as his companion
- [299-356] The heroes arm and receive an omen from Minerva
- [357-400] In the Trojan camp, Hector sends Dolon as a spy
- [401-460] Diomed and Ulysses surprise and capture Dolon
- [461-515] Dolon reveals the Trojan positions and the arrival of Rhesus
- [516-539] Diomed slays Dolon; his spoils are dedicated
- [540-581] The raid: They find the Thracian camp and kill Rhesus
- [582-601] Ulysses seizes the horses; Pallas warns them to retreat
- [602-623] Apollo awakens the Trojans as the heroes escape
- [624-680] The triumphant return to the Greek camp
- [1-680] Scene: The Greek and Trojan camps by night
ALL Night the Chiefs before their Vessels lay,
And lost in Sleep the Labours of the Day:
All but the King; with various Thoughts opprest,
His Country’s Cares lay rowling in his Breast.
As when by Light’nings Jove’s Aetherial Pow’r
Foretells the ratling Hail, or weighty Show’r,
Or sends soft Snows to whiten all the Shore,
Or bids the brazen Throat of War to roar;
By fits one Flash succeeds, as one expires,
And Heav’n flames thick with momentary Fires.
So bursting frequent from Atrides ’ Breast,
Sighs following Sighs his inward Fears confest.
Now o’er the Fields, dejected, he surveys
From thousand Trojan Fires the mounting Blaze;
Hears in the passing Wind their Music blow,
And marks distinct the Voices of the Foe.
Now looking backwards to the Fleet and Coast,
Anxious he sorrows for th’ endanger’d Host.
He rends his Hairs, in sacrifice to Jove,
And sues to Him that ever lives above:
Inly he groans; while Glory and Despair
Divide his Heart, and wage a doubtful War.
A thousand Cares his lab’ring Breast revolves;
To seek sage Nestor now the Chief resolves,
With him, in wholsome Counsels, to debate
What yet remains to save th’ afflicted State.
He rose, and first he cast his Mantle round,
Next on his Feet the shining Sandals bound;
A Lion’s yellow Spoils his Back conceal’d;
His warlike Hand a pointed Javelin held.
Meanwhile his Brother, prest with equal Woes,
Alike deny’d the Gifts of soft Repose,
Laments for Greece; that in his Cause before
So much had suffer’d, and must suffer more.
A Leopard’s spotted Hide his Shoulders spread;
A brazen Helmet glitter’d on his Head:
Thus (with a Javelin in his Hand) he went,
To wake Atrides in the Royal Tent.
Already wak’d, Atrides he descry’d,
His Armour buckling at his Vessel’s side.
Joyful they met; the Spartan thus begun:
Why puts my Brother his bright Armour on?
Sends he some Spy, amidst these silent Hours,
To try yon’ Camp, and watch the Trojan Pow’rs?
But say, what Hero shall sustain that Task?
Such bold Exploits uncommon Courage ask,
Guideless, alone, through Night’s dark Shade to go,
And ’midst a hostile Camp explore the Foe?
To whom the King. In such Distress we stand,
No vulgar Counsels our Affairs demand;
50Greece to preserve, is now no easy part,
But asks high Wisdom, deep Design, and Art.
For Jove, averse, our humble Vows denies,
And bows his Head to Hector’s Sacrifice.
What Eye has witness’d, or what Ear believ’d,
In one great Day, by one great Arm atchiev’d,
Such wond’rous Deeds as Hector’s Hand has done,
And we beheld, the last revolving Sun?
What Honours the belov’d of Jove adorn!
Sprung from no God, and of no Goddess born,
Yet such his Acts, as Greeks unborn shall tell,
And curse the Battel where their Fathers fell.
Now speed thy hasty Course along the Fleet,
There call great Ajax, and the Prince of Creet.
Our self to hoary Nestor will repair;
To keep the Guards on Duty, be his Care;
(For Nestor’s Influence best that Quarter guides;
Whose Son, with Merion, o’er the Watch presides.)
To whom the Spartan: These thy Orders born,
Say shall I stay, or with Dispatch return?
There shalt thou stay (the King of Men reply’d)
Else may we miss to meet, without a Guide,
The Paths so many, and the Camp so wide.
Still, with your Voice, the sloathful Soldiers raise,
Urge by their Father’s Fame, their future Praise.
Forget we now our State and lofty Birth;
Not Titles here, but Works, must prove our Worth.
To labour is the Lot of Man below;
And when Jove gave us Life, he gave us Woe.
This said, each parted to his sev’ral Cares;
The King to Nestor’s sable Ship repairs;
The sage Protector of the Greeks he found
Stretch’d in his Bed, with all his Arms around;
The various-colour’d Scarf, the Shield he rears,
The shining Helmet, and the pointed Spears:
The dreadful Weapons of the Warrior’s Rage,
That old in Arms, disdain’d the Peace of Age.
Then leaning on his Hand his watchful Head,
The hoary Monarch rais’d his Eyes, and said.
What art thou, speak, that on Designs unknown
While others sleep, thus range the Camp alone?
Seek’st thou some Friend, or nightly Centinel?
Stand off, approach not, but thy Purpose tell.
O Son of Neleus (thus the King rejoin’d)
Pride of the Greeks, and Glory of thy Kind!
Lo here the wretched Agamemnon stands,
Th’ unhappy Gen’ral of the Grecian Bands;
Whom Jove decrees with daily Cares to bend,
And Woes, that only with his Life shall end!
Scarce can my Knees these trembling Limbs sustain,
100And scarce my Heart support its Load of Pain.
No Taste of Sleep these heavy Eyes have known;
Confus’d, and sad, I wander thus alone,
With Fears distracted, with no fix’d Design;
And all my People’s Miseries are mine.
If ought of use thy waking Thoughts suggest,
(Since Cares, like mine, deprive thy Soul of Rest)
Impart thy Counsel, and assist thy Friend:
Now let us jointly to the Trench descend,
At ev’ry Gate the fainting Guard excite,
Tir’d with the Toils of Day, and Watch of Night:
Else may the sudden Foe our Works invade,
So near, and favour’d by the gloomy Shade.
To him thus Nestor. Trust the Pow’rs above,
Nor think proud Hector’s Hopes confirm’d by Jove:
How ill agrees the Views of vain Mankind,
And the wise Counsels of th’ eternal Mind?
Audacious Hector, if the Gods ordain
That great Achilles rise and rage again,
What Toils attend thee, and what Woes remain?
Lo faithful Nestor thy Command obeys;
The Care is next our other Chiefs to raise:
Ulysses, Diomed we chiefly need;
Mages for Strength, Oïleus fam’d for Speed.
Some other be dispatch’d, of nimbler Feet,
To those tall Ships, remotest of the Fleet,
Where lie great Ajax and the King of Crete.
To rouse the Spartan I my self decree;
Dear as he is to us, and dear to thee,
Yet must I tax his Sloath, that claims no share
With his great Brother in this martial Care:
Him it behov’d to ev’ry Chief to sue,
Preventing ev’ry Part perform’d by you;
For strong Necessity our Toils demands,
Claims all our Hearts, and urges all our Hands.
To whom the King: With Rev’rence we allow
Thy just Rebukes, yet learn to spare them now.
My gen’rous Brother is of gentle kind,
He seems remiss, but bears a valiant Mind;
Thro’ too much Def’rence to our Sov’reign Sway,
Content to follow when we lead the way.
But now our Ills industrious to prevent,
Long e’er the rest, he rose, and sought my Tent.
The Chiefs you nam’d, already, at his Call,
Prepare to meet us near the Navy-wall;
Assembling there, between the Trench and Gates,
Near the Night-Guards, our chosen Council waits.
Then none (said Nestor ) shall his Rule withstand,
For great Examples justify Command.
With that, the venerable Warrior rose;
150The shining Greaves his manly Legs inclose;
His purple Mantle golden Buckles join’d,
Warm with the softest Wool, and doubly lin’d.
Then rushing from his Tent, he snatch’d in hast
His steely Lance, that lighten’d as he past.
The Camp he travers’d thro’ the sleeping Crowd,
Stopp’d at Ulysses’ Tent, and call’d aloud.
Ulysses, sudden as the Voice was sent,
Awakes, starts up, and issues from his Tent.
What new Distress, what sudden Cause of Fright
Thus leads you wandring in the silent Night?
O prudent Chief! (the Pylian Sage reply’d)
Wise as thou art, be now thy Wisdom try’d:
Whatever means of Safety can be sought,
Whatever Counsels can inspire our Thought,
Whatever Methods, or to fly, or fight;
All, all depend on this important Night!
He heard, return’d, and took his painted Shield:
Then join’d the Chiefs, and follow’d thro’ the Field.
Without his Tent, bold Diomed they found,
All sheath’d in Arms; his brave Companions round:
Each sunk in Sleep, extended on the Field,
His Head reclining on his bossy Shield.
A Wood of Spears stood by, that fixt upright,
Shot from their flashing Points a quiv’ring Light.
A Bull’s black Hide compos’d the Hero’s Bed;
A splendid Carpet roll’d beneath his Head.
Then, with his Foot, old Nestor gently shakes
The slumb’ring Chief, and in these Words awakes.
Rise, Son of Tydeus! to the brave and strong
Rest seems inglorious, and the Night too long.
But sleep’st thou now? when from yon’ Hills the Foe
Hangs o’er the Fleet, and shades our Walls below?
At this, soft Slumber from his Eyelids fled;
The Warrior saw the hoary Chief, and said.
Wond’rous old Man! whose Soul no Respite knows,
Tho’ Years and Honours bid thee seek Repose.
Let younger Greeks our sleeping Warriors wake;
Ill fits thy Age these Toils to undertake.
My Friend, (he answer’d) gen’rous is thy Care,
These Toils, my Subjects and my Sons might bear,
Their loyal Thoughts and pious Loves conspire
To ease a Sov’reign, and relieve a Sire.
But now the last Despair surrounds our Host;
No Hour must pass, no Moment must be lost;
Each single Greek, in this conclusive Strife,
Stands on the sharpest Edge of Death or Life:
Yet if my Years thy kind Regard engage,
Employ thy Youth as I employ my Age;
Succeed to these my Cares, and rouze the rest;
200He serves me most, who serves his Country best.
This said, the Hero o’er his Shoulders slung
A Lion’s Spoils, that to his Ankles hung;
Then seiz’d his pond’rous Lance, and strode along.
Meges the bold, with Ajax fam’d for speed,
The Warrior rouz’d, and to th’ Entrenchments led.
And now the Chiefs approach the nightly Guard;
A wakeful Squadron, each in Arms prepar’d:
Th’ unweary’d Watch their list’ning Leaders keep,
And couching close, repell invading Sleep.
So faithful Dogs their fleecy Charge maintain,
With Toil protected from the prowling Train;
When the gaunt Lioness, with Hunger bold,
Springs from the Mountains tow’rd the guarded Fold:
Thro’breaking Woods her rust’ling Course they hear;
Loud, and more loud, the Clamours strike their Ear
Of Hounds and Men; they start, they gaze around;
Watch ev’ry Side, and turn to ev’ry Sound.
Thus watch’d the Grecians, cautious of Surprize,
Each Voice, each Motion, drew their Ears and Eyes;
Each Step of passing Feet increas’d th’Affright;
And hostile Troy was ever full in Sight.
Nestor with Joy the wakeful Band survey’d,
And thus accosted thro’ the gloomy Shade.
’Tis well, my Sons, your nightly Cares employ,
Else must our Host become the Scorn of Troy.
Watch thus, and Greece shall live—The Hero said;
Then o’er the Trench the following Chieftains led.
His Son, and godlike Merion march’d behind,
(For these the Princes to their Council join’d)
The Trenches past, th’ assembl’d Kings around
In silent State the Consistory crown’d.
A Place there was, yet undefil’d with Gore,
The Spot, where Hector stop’d his Rage before,
When Night descending, from his vengeful Hand
Repriev’d the Relicks of the Grecian Band:
(The Plain beside with mangled Corps was spread,
And all his Progress mark’d by Heaps of dead.)
There sate the mournful Kings: when Neleus’ Son,
The Council opening, in these Words begun.
Is there (he said) a Chief so greatly brave,
His Life to hazard, and his Country save?
Lives there a Man, who singly dares to go
To yonder Camp, or seize some stragling Foe?
Or favour’d by the Night, approach so near,
Their Speech, their Counsels, and Designs to hear?
If to besiege our Navies they prepare,
Or Troy once more must be the Seat of War?
This could he learn, and to our Peers recite,
And pass unharm’d the Dangers of the Night;
250What Fame were his thro’ all succeeding Days,
While Phoebus shines, or Men have tongues to praise?
What Gifts his grateful Country would bestow?
What must not Greece to her Deliv’rer owe?
A sable Ewe each Leader should provide,
With each a sable Lambkin by her side;
At ev’ry Rite his Share should be increas’d,
And his the foremost Honours of the Feast.
Fear held them mute: Alone, untaught to fear,
Tydides spoke—The Man you seek, is here.
Thro’ yon’ black Camps to bend my dang’rous way,
Some God within commands, and I obey.
But let some other chosen Warrior join,
To raise my Hopes, and second my Design.
By mutual Confidence, and mutual Aid,
Great Deeds are done, and great Discov’ries made;
The Wise new Prudence from the Wise acquire,
And one brave Hero fans another’s Fire.
Contending Leaders at the Word arose;
Each gen’rous Breast with Emulation glows:
So brave a Task each Ajax strove to share,
Bold Merion strove, and Nestor’s valiant Heir;
The Spartan wish’d the second Place to gain,
And great Ulysses wish’d, nor wish’d in vain.
Then thus the King of Men the Contest ends:
Thou first of Warriors, and thou best of Friends,
Undaunted Diomed! what Chief to join
In this great Enterprize, is only thine.
Just be thy Choice, without Affection made,
To Birth, or Office, no respect be paid;
Let Worth determine here. The Monarch spake,
And inly trembled for his Brother’s sake.
Then thus (the Godlike Diomed rejoin’d)
My Choice declares the Impulse of my Mind.
How can I doubt, while great Ulysses stands
To lend his Counsels, and assist our Hands?
A Chief, whose Safety is Minerva’s Care;
So fam’d, so dreadful, in the Works of War?
Blest in his Conduct, I no Aid require,
Wisdom like his might pass thro’ Flames of Fire.
It fits thee not, before these Chiefs of Fame,
(Reply’d the Sage) to praise me, or to blame:
Praise from a Friend, or Censure from a Foe,
Are lost on Hearers that our Merits know.
But let us haste—Night rolls the Hours away,
The red’ning Orient shows the coming Day,
The Stars shine fainter on th’Aetherial Plains,
And of Night’s Empire but a third remains.
Thus having spoke, with gen’rous Ardour prest,
In Arms Terrific their huge Limbs they drest.
300A two-edg’d Faulchion Thrasymed the brave,
And ample Buckler, to Tydides gave:
Then in a leathern Helm he cas’d his Head,
Short of its Crest, and with no Plume o’erspread;
(Such as by Youths unus’d to Arms, are worn;
No Spoils enrich it, and no Studs adorn.)
Next him Ulysses took a shining Sword,
A Bow and Quiver, with bright Arrows stor’d:
A well-prov’d Casque with Leather Braces bound
(Thy Gift, Meriones ) his Temples crown’d;
Soft Wool within; without, in order spread,
A Boar’s white Teeth grinn’d horrid o’er his Head.
This from Amyntor, rich Ormenus’ Son,
Autolychus by fraudful Rapine won,
And gave Amphydamas; from him the Prize
Molus receiv’d, the Pledge of social Ties;
The Helmet next by Merion was possess’d,
And now Ulysses’ thoughtful Temples press’d.
Thus sheath’d in Arms, the Council they forsake,
And dark thro’ Paths oblique their Progress take.
Just then, in sign she favour’d their Intent,
A long-wing’d Heron great Minerva sent;
This, tho’ surrounding Shades obscur’d their View,
By the shrill Clang and whistling Wings, they knew.
As from the Right she soar’d, Ulysses pray’d,
Hail’d the glad Omen, and address’d the Maid.
O Daughter of that God, whose Arm can wield
Th’ avenging Bolt, and shake the dreadful Shield.
O thou! for ever present in my way,
Who, all my Motions, all my Toils survey!
Safe may we pass beneath the gloomy Shade,
Safe by thy Succour to our Ships convey’d;
And let some Deed this signal Night adorn,
To claim the Tears of Trojans yet unborn.
Then Godlike Diomed prefer’d his Pray’r:
Daughter of Jove, unconquer’d Pallas! hear.
Great Queen of Arms, whose Favour Tydeus won,
As thou defend’st the Sire, defend the Son.
When on Aesopus’ Banks the banded Pow’rs
Of Greece he left, and sought the Theban Tow’rs,
Peace was his Charge; receiv’d with peaceful Show,
He went a Legat, but return’d a Foe:
Then help’d by thee, and cover’d by thy Shield,
He fought with numbers, and made numbers yield.
So now be present, Oh celestial Maid!
So still continue to the Race thine Aid!
A youthful Steer shall fall beneath the Stroke,
Untam’d, unconscious of the galling Yoke,
With ample Forehead, and with spreading Horns,
Whose taper tops refulgent Gold adorns.
350The Heroes pray’d, and Pallas from the Skies,
Accords their Vow, succeeds their Enterprize.
Now, like two Lions panting for the Prey,
With deathful Thoughts they trace the dreary way,
Thro’ the black Horrors of th’ ensanguin’d Plain,
Thro’ Dust, thro’ Blood, o’er Arms, and Hills of Slain.
Nor less bold Hector, and the Sons of Troy,
On high Designs the wakeful Hours employ;
Th’ assembled Peers their lofty Chief inclos’d;
Who thus the Counsels of his Breast propos’d.
What glorious Man, for high Attempts prepar’d,
Dares greatly venture for a rich Reward?
Of yonder Fleet a bold Discov’ry make,
What Watch they keep, and what Resolves they take:
If now subdu’d they meditate their Flight,
And spent with Toil neglect the Watch of Night?
His be the Chariot that shall please him most,
Of all the Plunder of the vanquish’d Host;
His the fair Steeds that all the rest excell,
And his the Glory to have serv’d so well.
A Youth there was among the Tribes of Troy,
Dolon his Name, Eumedes’ only Boy,
(Five Girls beside the rev’rend Herald told)
Rich was the Son in Brass, and rich in Gold;
Not blest by Nature with the Charms of Face,
But swift of Foot, and matchless in the Race.
Hector! (he said) my Courage bids me meet
This high Atchievement, and explore the Fleet:
But first exalt thy Sceptre to the Skies,
And swear to grant me the demanded Prize;
Th’ immortal Courses, and the glitt’ring Car,
That bear Pelides thro’ the Ranks of War.
Encourag’d thus, no idle Scout I go,
Fulfill thy Wish, their whole Intention know,
Ev’n to the Royal Tent pursue my way,
And all their Counsels, all their Aims betray.
The Chief then heav’d the golden Sceptre high,
Attesting thus the Monarch of the Sky.
Be witness thou! immortal Lord of all!
Whose Thunder shakes the dark aerial Hall.
By none but Dolon shall this Prize be born,
And him alone th’ immortal Steeds adorn.
Thus Hector swore: the Gods were call’d in vain;
But the rash Youth prepares to scour the Plain:
A-cross his Back the bended Bow he flung,
A Wolf’s grey Hide around his Shoulders hung.
A Ferret’s downy Fur his Helmet lin’d,
And in his Hand a pointed Javelin shin’d.
Then (never to return) he sought the Shore,
And trod the Path his Feet must tread no more.
400Scarce had he pass’d the Steeds and Trojan Throng,
(Still bending forward as he cours’d along)
When, on the hollow way, th’ approaching Tread
Ulysses mark’d, and thus to Diomed.
O Friend! I hear some Step of hostile Feet,
Moving this way, or hast’ning to the Fleet;
Some Spy perhaps, to lurk beside the Main;
Or nightly Pillager that strips the slain.
Yet let him pass, and win a little Space;
Then rush behind him, and prevent his Pace.
But if too swift of Foot he flies before,
Confine his Course along the Fleet and Shore,
Betwixt the Camp and him our Spears employ,
And intercept his hop’d return to Troy.
With that, they step’d aside, and stoop’d their head,
(As Dolon pass’d) behind a Heap of dead:
Along the Path the Spy unwary flew;
Soft, at just distance, both the Chiefs pursue.
So distant they, and such the Space between,
As when two Teams of Mules divide the Green,
(To whom the Hind like Shares of Land allows)
When now few Furrows part th’ approaching Ploughs.
Now Dolon list’ning, heard them as they past;
Hector (he thought) had sent, and check’d his hast,
Till scarce at distance of a Javelin’s throw,
No Voice succeeding, he perceiv’d the Foe.
As when two skilful Hounds the Lev’ret winde,
Or chase thro’ Woods obscure the trembling Hinde;
Now lost, now seen, they intercept his way,
And from the Herd still turn the flying Prey:
So fast, and with such Fears, the Trojan flew;
So close, so constant, the bold Greeks pursue.
Now almost on the Fleet the Dastard falls,
And mingles with the Guards that watch the Walls;
When brave Tydides stopp’d; a gen’rous Thought
(Inspir’d by Pallas ) in his Bosom wrought,
Lest on the Foe some forward Greek advance,
And snatch the Glory from his lifted Lance.
Then thus aloud: Whoe’er thou art, remain;
This Javelin else shall fix thee to the Plain.
He said, and high in Air the Weapon cast,
Which wilful err’d, and o’er his Shoulder past;
Then fix’d in Earth. Against the trembling Wood
The Wretch stood prop’d, and quiver’d as he stood;
A sudden Palsy seiz’d his turning Head;
His loose Teeth chatter’d, and his Colour fled:
The panting Warriors seize him as He stands,
And with unmanly Tears his Life demands.
O spare my Youth, and for the Breath I owe,
Large Gifts of Price my Father shall bestow:
450Vast Heaps of Brass shall in your Ships be told,
And Steel well temper’d, and refulgent Gold.
To whom Ulysses made this wise Reply;
Whoe’er thou art, be bold, nor fear to die.
What moves thee, say, when Sleep has clos’d the Sight,
To roam the silent Fields in dead of Night?
Cam’st thou the Secrets of our Camp to find,
By Hector prompted, or thy daring Mind,
Or art some Wretch by hopes of Plunder led,
Thro’ Heaps of Carnage to despoil the dead?
Then thus pale Dolon with a fearful Look,
(Still, as he spoke, his Limbs with Horror shook)
Hither I came, by Hector’s Words deceiv’d;
Much did he promise, rashly I believ’d:
No less a Bribe than great Achilles’ Car,
And those swift Steeds that sweep the Ranks of War,
Urg’d me, unwilling, this Attempt to make;
To learn what Counsels, what Resolves you take,
If now subdu’d, you fix your Hopes on Flight,
And tir’d with Toils, neglect the Watch of Night?
Bold was thy Aim, and glorious was the Prize,
( Ulysses, with a scornful Smile, replies)
Far other Rulers those proud Steeds demand,
And scorn the Guidance of a vulgar Hand;
Ev’n great Achilles scarce their Rage can tame,
Achilles sprung from an immortal Dame.
But say, be faithful, and the Truth recite!
Where lies encamp’d the Trojan Chief to Night?
Where stand his Coursers? In what Quarter sleep
Their other Princes? tell what Watch they keep?
Say, since this Conquest, what their Counsels are?
Or here to combat, from their City far,
Or back to Ilion’s Walls transfer the War?
Ulysses thus, and thus Eumedes’ Son:
What Dolon knows, his faithful Tongue shall own.
Hector, the Peers assembling in his Tent,
A Council holds at Ilus’ Monument.
No certain Guards the nightly Watch partake;
Where e’er yon’ Fires ascend, the Trojans wake:
Anxious for Troy, the Guard the Natives keep;
Safe in their Cares, th’ auxiliar Forces sleep,
Whose Wives and Infants, from the Danger far,
Discharge their Souls of half the Fears of War.
Then sleep those Aids among the Trojan Train,
(Enquir’d the Chief) or scatter’d o’er the Plain?
To whom the Spy: Their Pow’rs they thus dispose:
The Paeons, dreadful with their bended Bows,
The Carians, Caucons, the Pelasgian Host,
And Leleges, encamp along the Coast.
Not distant far, lie higher on the Land
500The Lycian, Mysian, and Maeonian Band,
And Phrygia’s Horse, by Thymbras’ ancient Wall;
The Thracians utmost, and a-part from all.
These Troy but lately to her Succour won,
Led on by Rhesus, great Eioneus’ Son:
I saw his Coursers in proud Triumph go,
Swift as the Wind, and white as Winter-Snow:
Rich silver Plates his shining Car infold;
His solid Arms, refulgent, flame with Gold;
No mortal Shoulders suit the glorious Load,
Celestial Panoply, to grace a God!
Let me, unhappy, to your Fleet be born,
Or leave me here, a Captive’s Fate to mourn,
In cruel Chains; till your Return reveal
The Truth or Falshood of the News I tell.
To this Tydides, with a gloomy Frown:
Think not to live, tho’ all the Truth be shown:
Shall we dismiss thee, in some future Strife
To risk more bravely thy now forfeit Life?
Or that again our Camps thou may’st explore?
No—once a Traytor, thou betray’st no more.
Sternly he spoke, and as the Wretch prepar’d
With humble Blandishment to stroke his Beard,
Like Light’ning swift the wrathful Faulchion flew,
Divides the Neck, and cuts the Nerves in two;
One Instant snatch’d his trembling Soul to Hell,
The Head, yet speaking, mutter’d as it fell.
The furry Helmet from his Brow they tear,
The Wolf’s grey Hide, th’unbended Bow and Spear;
These great Ulysses lifting to the Skies,
To fav’ring Pallas dedicates the Prize.
Great Queen of Arms! receive this hostile Spoil,
And let the Thracian Steeds reward our Toil:
Thee first of all the heav’nly Host we praise;
Oh speed our Labours, and direct our ways!
This said, the Spoils with dropping Gore defac’d,
High on a spreading Tamarisk he plac’d;
Then heap’d with Reeds and gather’d Boughs the Plain,
To guide their Footsteps to the Place again.
Thro’ the still Night they cross the devious Fields,
Slipp’ry with Blood, o’er Arms and Heaps of Shields.
Arriving where the Thracian Squadrons lay,
And eas’d in Sleep the Labours of the Day,
Rang’d in three Lines they view the prostrate Band;
The Horses yok’d beside each Warrior stand.
Their Arms in order on the Ground reclin’d,
Thro’ the brown Shade the fulgid Weapons shin’d.
Amidst, lay Rhesus, stretch’d in Sleep profound,
And the white Steeds behind his Chariot bound.
The welcome Sight Ulysses first descries,
550And points to Diomed the tempting Prize.
The Man, the Coursers, and the Car behold!
Describ’d by Dolon, with the Arms of Gold.
Now, brave Tydides! now thy Courage try,
Approach the Chariot, and the Steeds untye;
Or if thy Soul aspire to fiercer Deeds,
Urge thou the Slaughter, while I seize the Steeds.
Pallas (this said) her Hero’s Bosom warms,
Breath’d in his Heart, and strung his nervous Arms;
Where e’er he pass’d, a purple Stream pursu’d;
His thirsty Faulchion, fat with hostile Blood,
Bath’d all his Footsteps, dy’d the Fields with Gore,
And a low Groan remurmur’d thro’ the Shore.
So the grim Lion, from his nightly Den,
O’erleaps the Fences, and invades the Pen;
On Sheep or Goats, resistless in his way,
He falls, and foaming rends the guardless Prey.
Nor stopp’d the Fury of his vengeful Hand,
Till twelve lay breathless of the Thracian Band.
Ulysses following, as his Part’ner slew,
Back by the Foot each slaughter’d Warrior drew;
The milk-white Coursers studious to convey
Safe to the Ships, he wisely clear’d the way,
Lest the fierce Steeds, not yet to Battels bred,
Should start, and tremble at the Heaps of dead.
Now twelve dispatch’d, the Monarch last they found;
Tydides’ Faulchion fix’d him to the Ground.
Just then a deathful Dream Minerva sent;
A warlike Form appear’d before his Tent,
Whose visionary Steel his Bosom tore:
So dream’d the Monarch, and awak’d no more.
Ulysses now the snowy Steeds detains,
And leads them, fasten’d by the silver Reins;
These, with his Bow unbent, he lash’d along;
(The Scourge forgot, on Rhesus Chariot hung.)
Then gave his Friend the Signal to retire;
But him, new Dangers, new Atchievements fire:
Doubtful he stood, or with his reeking Blade
To send more Heroes to th’ infernal Shade,
Drag off the Car where Rhesus Armour lay,
Or heave with manly Force, and lift away.
While unresolv’d the Son of Tydeus stands,
Pallas appears, and thus her Chief commands.
Enough, my Son, from farther Slaughter cease,
Regard thy Safety, and depart in Peace;
Haste to the Ships, the gotten Spoils enjoy,
Nor tempt too far the hostile Gods of Troy.
The Voice divine confess’d the martial Maid;
In haste he mounted, and her Word obey’d;
The Coursers fly before Ulysses’ Bow,
600Swift as the Wind, and white as Winter-Snow.
Not unobserv’d they pass’d: the God of Light
Had watch’d his Troy, and mark’d Minerva’s Flight;
Saw Tydeus’ Son with heav’nly Succour blest,
And vengeful Anger fill’d his sacred Breast.
Swift to the Trojan Camp descends the Pow’r,
And wakes Hippocoon in the Morning-Hour,
(On Rhesus’ side accustom’d to attend,
A faithful Kinsman, and instructive Friend.)
He rose, and saw the Field deform’d with Blood,
An empty Space where late the Coursers stood,
The yet-warm Thracians panting on the Coast;
For each he wept, but for his Rhesus most:
Now while on Rhesus’ Name he calls in vain,
The gath’ring Tumult spreads o’er all the Plain;
On Heaps the Trojans rush, with wild affright,
And wond’ring view the Slaughters of the Night.
Mean while the Chiefs, arriving at the Shade
Where late the Spoils of Hector’s Spy were laid,
Ulysses stopp’d; to him Tydides bore
The Trophee, dropping yet with Dolon’s Gore:
Then mounts again; again their nimble Feet
The Coursers ply, and thunder tow’rds the Fleet.
Old Nestor first perceiv’d th’ approaching Sound,
Bespeaking thus the Grecian Peers around.
Methinks the Noise of tramp’ling Steeds I hear
Thick’ning this way, and gath’ring on my Ear;
Perhaps some Horses of the Trojan Breed
(So may, ye Gods! my pious Hopes succeed)
The great Tydides and Ulysses bear,
Return’d triumphant with this Prize of War.
Yet much I fear (ah may that Fear be vain)
The Chiefs out-number’d by the Trojan Train:
Perhaps, ev’n now pursu’d, they seek the Shore;
Or oh! perhaps those Heroes are no more.
Scarce had he spoke, when lo! the Chiefs appear,
And spring to Earth: the Greeks dismiss their Fear:
With Words of Friendship and extended Hands
They greet the Kings; and Nestor first demands:
Say thou, whose Praises all our Host proclaim,
Thou living Glory of the Grecian Name!
Say whence these Coursers? by what Chance bestow’d,
The Spoil of Foes, or Present of a God?
Not those fair Steeds so radiant and so gay,
That draw the burning Chariot of the Day.
Old as I am, to Age I scorn to yield,
And daily mingle in the martial Field;
But sure till now no Coursers struck my Sight
Like these, conspicuous thro’ the Ranks of Fight.
Some God, I deem, conferr’d the glorious Prize,
650Blest as ye are, and fav’rites of the Skies;
The Care of him who bids the Thunder roar,
And her, whose Fury bathes the World with Gore.
Father! not so, (sage Ithacus rejoin’d)
The Gifts of Heav’n are of a nobler kind.
Of Thracian Lineage are the Steeds ye view,
Whose hostile King the brave Tydides slew;
Sleeping he dy’d, with all his Guards around,
And twelve beside lay gasping on the Ground.
These other Spoils from conquer’d Dolon came,
A Wretch, whose Swiftness was his only Fame,
By Hector sent our Forces to explore,
He now lies headless on the sandy Shore.
Then o’er the Trench the bounding Coursers flew;
The joyful Greeks with loud Acclaim pursue.
Strait to Tydides’ high Pavilion born,
The matchless Steeds his ample Stalls adorn:
The neighing Coursers their new Fellows greet,
And the full Racks are heap’d with gen’rous Wheat.
But Dolon’s Armour, to his Ships convey’d,
High on the painted Stern Ulysses laid,
A Trophy destin’d to the blue-ey’d Maid.
Now from nocturnal Sweat, and sanguine Stain,
They cleanse their Bodies in the neighb’ring Main:
Then in the polish’d Bath, refresh’d from Toil,
Their Joints they supple with dissolving Oil,
In due Repast indulge the genial Hour,
And first to Pallas the Libations pour:
They sit, rejoicing in her Aid divine,
And the crown’d Goblet foams with Floods of Wine.
Observations on the 10th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
Note I.
IT is observable, says Eustathius, that the Poet very artfully repairs the Loss of the last Day by this nocturnal Stratagem; and it is plain that such a Contrivance was necessary: The Army was dispirited and Achilles inflexible; but by the Success of this Adventure the Scale is turn’d in favour of the Grecians.
Note II.
VERSE 3. All but the King, &c.]
Homer here with a very small Alteration repeats the Verses which begin the second Book: He introduces Agamemnon with the same Pomp as he did Jupiter; he ascribes to him the same Watchfulness over Men, as he exercis’d over the Gods, and Jove and Agamemnon are the only Persons awake, while Heaven and Earth are asleep. Eustathius.
Note III.
VERSE 7. Or sends soft Snows. ]
Scaliger’s Criticism against this passage, that it never lightens and snows at the same time, is sufficiently refuted by Experience. See Bossu of the Epic Poem lib. 3. c. 7. and Barnes’s Note on this Place.
Note IV.
VERSE 8. Or bids the brazen Throat of War to roar. ]
There is something very noble and sublime in this Image: The vast Jaws of War is an Expression that very poetically represents the Voraciousness of War, and gives us a lively Idea of an insatiate Monster. Eustathius.
Note V.
VERSE 9. By fits one Flash succeeds, &c.]
It requires some Skill in Homer to take the chief Point of his Similitudes; he has often been misunderstood in that respect, and his Comparisons have frequently been strain’d to comply with the Fancies of Commentators. This Comparison which is brought to illustrate the Frequency of Agamemnon’s Sighs, has been usually thought to represent in general the Groans of the King, whereas what Homer had in his view was only the quick Succession of them.
Note VI.
VERSE 13. Now o’er the Fields, &c.]
Aristotle answers a Criticism of some Censurers of Homer on this Place. They asked how it was that Agamemnon, shut up in his Tent in the Night, could see the Trojan Camp at one view, and the Fleet at another, as the Poet represents it? It is (says Aristotle ) only a metaphorical manner of Speech; To cast one’s Eye, means but to reflect upon, or to revolve in one’s Mind: and that employ’d Agamemnon’s Thoughts in his Tent, which had been the chief Object of his Eyes the Day before.
Note VII.
VERSE 19. He rends his Hairs in sacrifice to Jove.]
I know this Action of Agamemnon has been taken only as a common Expression of Grief, and so indeed it was render’d by Accius, as cited by Tully, Tusc. quaest. l. 3. Scindens dolore identidem intonsam comam. But whoever reads the Context will, I believe, be of Opinion, that Jupiter is mention’d here on no other Account than as he was apply’d to in the offering of these Hairs, in an humble Supplication to the offended Deity who had so lately manifested his Anger.
Note VIII.
VERSE 27. He rose, and first he cast his Mantle round. ]
I fancy it will be entertaining to the Reader to observe how well the Poet at all times suits the Descriptions to the Circumstances of the Persons: We must remember that this Book continues the Actions of one Night; the whole Army is now asleep, and the Poet takes this Opportunity to give us a Description of several of his Heroes suitable to their proper Characters. Agamemnon who is every where describ’d as anxious for the Good of his People, is kept awake by a fatherly Care for their Preservation. Menelaus, for whose sake the Greeks had suffer’d so greatly, shares all their Misfortunes, and is restless while they are in danger. Nestor, a provident, wise old Man, sacrifices his Rest even in the Extremity of Age, to his Love for his Country. Ulysses, a Person next to Nestor in Wisdom, is ready at the first Summons; he finds it hard, while the Greeks suffer, to compose himself to Sleep, but is easily awak’d to march to its Defence: But Diomed, who is every where describ’d as a daring Warrior, sleeps unconcern’d at the Nearness of the Enemy, and is not awaked without some Violence: He is said to be asleep, but he sleeps like a Soldier in compleat Arms.
I could not pass over one Circumstance in this Place in Relation to Nestor. It is a Pleasure to see what Care the Poet takes of his favourite Councellor: He describes him lying in a soft Bed, wraps him up in a warm Cloak, to preserve his Age from the Coldness of the Night; but Diomed, a gallant young Hero, sleeps upon the Ground in open Air; and indeed every Warrior is dress’d in Arms peculiar to that Season: The Hide of a Lion or Leopard is what they all put on, being not to engage an Enemy, but to meet their Friends in Council. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 43. Sends he some Spy? &c.]
Menelaus in this Place starts a Design which is afterwards proposed by Nestor in Council; the Poet knew that the Project would come with greater Weight from the Age of the one, than from the Youth of the other: and that the Valiant would be ready to execute a Design, which so venerable a Counsellor had form’d. Eustathius.
Note X.
VERSE 57. Such wondrous Deeds as Hector ’s Hand, &c.]
We hear Agamemnon in this Place launching into the Praises of a gallant Enemy; but if any one think that he raises the Actions of Hector too high, and sets him above Achilles himself, this Objection will vanish if he considers that he commends him as the bravest of mere Men, but still he is not equal to Achilles who was descended from a Goddess. Agamemnon undoubtedly had Achilles in his Thoughts when he says,
Sprung from no God, &c.
But his Anger will not let him even name the Man whom he thus obliquely praises.
Eustathius proceeds to observe, that the Poet ascribes the gallant Exploits of Hector to his Piety; and had he not been favour’d by Jove, he had not been thus victorious.
He also remarks that there is a double Tautology in this Speech of Agamemnon, as [Greek], and [Greek]. This proceeds from the Wonder which the King endeavours to express at the Greatness of Hector’s Actions: He labours to make his Words answer the great Idea he had conceiv’d of them, and while his Mind dwells upon the same Object, he falls into the same manner of expressing it. This is very natural to a Person in his Circumstances, whose Thoughts are as it were pent up, and struggle for an Utterance.
Note XI.
VERSE 73. The Paths so many, &c.]
’Tis plain from this Verse, as well as from many others, that the Art of Fortification was in some degree of Perfection in Homer’s Days: Here are Lines drawn that traverse the Camp ev’ry way; the Ships are drawn up in the manner of a Rampart, and sally Ports made at proper Distances, that they might without Difficulty either retire or issue out, as the Occasion should require. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 92. Seek’st thou some Friend or nightly Centinel? ]
It has been thought that Nestor asks this Question upon the Account of his Son Thrasymedes, who commanded the Guard that Night. He seems to be under some Apprehension lest he should have remitted the Watch. And it may also be gather’d from this Passage, that in those Times the Use of the Watch-word was unknown; because Nestor is oblig’d to crowd several Questions together, before he can learn whether Agamemnon be a Friend or an Enemy. The Shortness of the Questions agrees admirably with the Occasion upon which they were made; it being necessary that Nestor should be immediately inform’d who he was who pass’d along the Camp: If a Spy, that he might stand upon his Guard; if a Friend, that he might not cause an Alarm to be given to the Army, by multiplying Questions. Eustathius.
Note XIII.
VERSE 96. Lo here the wretched Agamemnon stands. ]
Eustathius observes, that Agamemnon here paints his Distress in a very pathetical manner: while the meanest Soldier is at rest, the General wanders about disconsolate, and is superior now in nothing so much as in Sorrow; but this Sorrow proceeds not from a base abject Spirit, but from a generous Disposition; he is not anxious for the Loss of his own Glory, but for the Sufferings of his People: It is a noble Sorrow, and springs from a commendable Tenderness and Humanity.
Note XIV.
VERSE 138. My gen’rous Brother is of gentle Kind. ]
Agamemnon is every where represented as the greatest Example of brotherly Affection; and he at all times defends Menelaus, but never with more Address than now: Nestor had accus’d Menelaus of Sloath; the King is his Advocate, but pleads his Excuse only in part: He does not entirely acquit him, because he would not contradict so wise a Man as Nestor; nor does he condemn him, because his Brother at this time was not guilty; but he very artfully turns the Imputation of Nestor, to the Praise of Menelaus; and affirms, that what might seem to be Remissness in his Character was only a Deference to his Authority, and that his seeming Inactivity was but an Unwillingness to act without Command. Eustathius.
Note XV.
VERSE 174. A Wood of Spears stood by, &c.]
The Picture here given us of Diomed sleeping in his Arms, with his Soldiers about him, and the Spears sticking upright in the Earth, has a near Resemblance to that in the first Book of Samuel, Ch. 26. ℣. 7. Saul lay sleeping within the Trench, and his Spear stuck in the Ground at his Bolster, but Abner and the People lay round about him.
Note XVI.
VERSE 182. From yon’ Hill the Foe, &c.]
It is necessary, if we would form an exact Idea of the Battels of Homer, to carry in our Minds the Place where each Action was fought. It will therefore be proper to enquire where that Eminence stood, upon which the Trojans encamp’d this Night. Eustathius is inclinable to believe it was Callicolone, (the Situation of which you will find in the Map of Homer’s Battels) but it will appear from what Dolon says, ℣. 415. (of Hector’s being encamp’d at the Monument of Ilus ) that this Eminence must be the Tumulus on which that Monument was situate, and so the old Scholiast rightly explains it.
Note XVII.
VERSE 194. But now the last Despair surrounds our Host. ]
The different Behaviour of Nestor upon the same Occasion, to different Persons, is worthy Observation: Agamemnon was under a Concern and Dejection of Spirit from the Danger of his Army: To raise his Courage, Nestor gave him hopes of Success, and represented the State of Affairs in the most favourable view. But he applies himself to Diomed, who is at all times enterprizing and incapable of Despair, in a far different manner: He turns the darkest side to him, and gives the worst Prospect of their Condition. This Conduct (says Eustathius ) shews a great deal of Prudence: ’tis the Province of Wisdom to encourage the dishearten’d with hopes, and to qualify the forward Courage of the daring with Fears; that the Valour of the one may not sink thro’ Despair, nor that of the other fly out into Rashness.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 207. And now the Chiefs approach the nightly Guard. ]
It is usual in Poetry to pass over little Circumstances, and carry on the greater. Menelaus in this Book was sent to call some of the Leaders; the Poet has too much Judgment to dwell upon the trivial Particulars of his performing his Message, but lets us know by the Sequel that he had performed it. It would have clogg’d the poetical Narration to have told us how Menelaus waked the Heroes to whom he was dispatched, and had been but a Repetition of what the Poet had fully describ’d before: He therefore (says the same Author) drops these Particularities, and leaves them to be supply’d by the Imagination of the Reader. ’Tis so in Painting, the Painter does not always draw at the full length, but leaves what is wanting to be added by the Fancy of the Beholder.
Note XIX.
VERSE 211. So faithful Dogs, &c.]
This Simile is in all its Parts just to the Description it is meant to illustrate. The Dogs represent the Watch, the Flock the Greeks, the Fold their Camp, and the wild Beast that invades them, Hector. The Place, Posture, and Circumstance, are painted with the utmost Life and Nature.
Eustathius takes notice of one Particular in this Description, which shews the manner in which their Centinels kept the Guard. The Poet tells us, that they sate down with their Arms in their Hands. I think that this was not so prudent a Method as is now used; it being almost impossible for a Man that stands, to drop asleep, whereas one that is seated may easily be overpower’d by the Fatigue of a long Watch. Eustathius.
Note XX.
VERSE 228. Then o’er the Trench the following Princes led ]
The Reason why Nestor did not open the Council within the Trenches, was with a design to encourage the Guards, and those whom he intended to send to enter the Trojan Camp. It would have appear’d unreasonable to send others over the Entrenchments upon a hazardous Enterprize, and not to have dared himself to set a Foot beyond them. This also could not fail of inflaming the Courage of the Grecian Spies, who would know themselves not to be far from Assistance, while so many of the Princes were passed over the Ditch as well as they. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 241. Is there (he said) a Chief so greatly brave? ]
Nestor proposes his Design of sending Spies into the Trojan Army with a great deal of Address: He begins with a general Sentence, and will not choose any one Hero, for fear of disgusting the rest: Had Nestor named the Person, he would have paid him a Complement that was sure to be attended with the Hazard of his Life; and that Person might have believ’d that Nestor exposed him to a Danger, which his Honour would not let him decline; while the rest might have resented such a Partiality, which would have seem’d to give the Preference to another before them. It therefore was Wisdom in Nestor to propose the Design in general Terms, whereby all the gallant Men that offer’d themselves satisfy’d their Honour, by being willing to share the Danger with Diomed; and it was no Disgrace to be left behind, after they had offer’d to hazard their Lives for their Country. Eustathius.
Note XXII.
VERSE 244. Or seize some straggling Foe? ]
It is worthy Observation with how much Caution Nestor opens this Design, and with how much Courage Diomed accepts it. Nestor forms it with Coolness, but Diomed embraces it with Warmth and Resolution. Nestor only proposes that some Man would approach the Enemy and intercept some straggling Trojan, but Diomed offers to penetrate the very Camp. Nestor was afraid lest no one should undertake it: Diomed overlooks the Danger, and presents himself, as willing to march against the whole Army of Troy. Eustathius.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 280. To Birth or Office no respect be paid. ]
Eustathius remarks that Agamemnon artfully steals away his Brother from Danger; the Foundness he bears to him makes him think him unequal to so bold an Enterprize, and prefer his Safety to his Glory. He farther adds, that the Poet intended to condemn that faulty Modesty which makes one sometimes prefer a Nobleman before a Person of more real Worth. To be greatly born is an Happiness, but no Merit; whereas personal Virtues shew a Man worthy of that Greatness to which he is not born.
It appears from hence, how honourable it was of old to go upon these Parties by Night, or undertake those Offices which are now only the Task of common Soldiers. Gideon in the Book of Judges (as Dacier observes) goes as a Spy into the Camp of Midian, tho’ he was at that time General of the Israelites.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 288. Blest in his Conduct. ]
There requir’d some Address in Diomed to make his Choice without offending the Grecian Princes; each of them might think it an Indignity to be refus’d such a Place of Honour. Diomed therefore chuses Ulysses not because he is braver than the rest, but because he is wiser. This part of his Character was allow’d by all the Leaders of the Army; and none of them thought it a Disparagement to themselves as they were Men of Valour, to see the first Place given to Ulysses in Point of Wisdom. No doubt but the Poet by causing Diomed to make this Choice, intended to insinuate that Valour ought always to be temper’d with Wisdom; to the end that what is design’d with Prudence, may be executed with Resolution. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 290. It fits thee not to praise me or to blame. ]
The Modesty of Ulysses in this Passage is very remarkable; tho’ undoubtedly he deserved to be praised, yet he interrupts Diomed rather than he would be a Hearer of his own Commendation. What Diomed spoke in Praise of Ulysses, was utter’d to justify his Choice of him to the Leaders of the Army; otherwise the Praise he had given him, would have been no better than Flattery. Eustathius.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 294. —Night rolls the Hours away, The Stars shine fainter on th’ Aetherial Plains, And of Night’s Empire but a third remains. ]
It has been objected that Ulysses is guilty of a threefold Tautology, when every word he utter’d shews the Necessity of being concise: If the Night was nigh spent, there was the less time to lose in Tautologies. But this is so far from being a fault, that it is a Beauty: Ulysses dwells upon the Shortness of the time before the Day appears, in order to urge Diomed to the greater Speed in prosecuting the Design. Eustathius.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 297. But a third remains. ]
One ought to take notice with how much Exactness Homer proportions his Incidents to the time of Action: These two Books take up no more than the Compass of one Night; and this Design could not have been executed in any other Part of it. The Poet had before told us, that all the Plain was enlightned by the Fires of Troy, and consequently no Spy could pass over to their Camp, till they were almost sunk and extinguish’d, which could not be till near the Morning.
’Tis observable that the Poet divides the Night into three Parts, from whence we may gather, that the Grecians had three Watches during the Night: The first and second of which were over, when Diomed and Ulysses set out to enter the Enemy’s Camp. Eustathius.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 300. A two-edg’d Faulchion Thrasymed the brave, &c.]
It is a very impertinent Remark of Scaliger, that Diomed should not have gone from his Tent without a Sword. The Expedition he now goes upon could not be foreseen by him at the time he rose: He was awak’d of a sudden, and sent in haste to call some of the Princes: Besides, he went but to Council, and even then carry’d his Spear with him, as Homer had already inform’d us. I think if one were to study the Art of cavilling, there would be more occasion to blame Virgil for what Scaliger praises him, giving a Sword to Euryalus when he had one before, Aen. 9. ℣. 303.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 302. Then in a Leathern Helm. ]
It may not be improper to observe how conformably to the Design the Poet arms these two Heroes: Ulysses has a Bow and Arrows, that he might be able to wound the Enemy at a distance, and so retard his Flight till he could overtake him; and for fear of a Discovery, Diomed is arm’d with an Helmet of Leather, that the glittering of it might not betray him. Eustathius. There is some Resemblance in this whole Story to that of Nisus and Euryalus in Virgil: and as the Heroes are here successful, and in Virgil unfortunate, it was perhaps as great an Instance of Virgil’s Judgment to describe the unhappy Youth in a glittering Helmet, which occasion’d his Discovery, as it was in Homer to arm his successful one in the contrary manner.
Note XXX.
VERSE 309. A well-prov’d Casque. ]
Mr. Barnes has a pretty Remark on this Place, that it was probably from this Description, [Greek], that the ancient Painters and Tragic Poets constantly represented Ulysses with the Pileus on his Head; but this Particularity could not be preserved with any Grace in the Translation.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 312. This from Amyntor, &c.]
The Succession of this Helmet descending from one Hero to another, is imitated by Virgil in the Story of Nisus and Euryalus..
Euryalus phaleras Rhamnetis, & aurea bullis Cingula, Tiburti Remulo ditissimus olim Quae mittit dona, hospitio cum jungeret absens Caedicus, ille suo moriens dat habere nepoti. Post mortem bello Rutuli pugnamque potiti.
It was anciently a Custom to make these military Presents to brave Adventurers. So Jonathan in the first Book of Samuel, stript himself of the Robe that was upon him, and gave it to David; and his Garments, even to his Sword, and his Bow, and his Girdle. Ch. 18. ℣. 4.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 325. Ulysses hail’d the glad Omen. ]
This Passage sufficiently justifies Diomed for his Choice of Ulysses: Diomed, who was most renown’d for Valour, might have given a wrong Interpretation to this Omen, and so have been discourag’d from proceeding in the Attempt. For tho’ it really signify’d, that as the Bird was not seen, but only heard by the Sound of its Wings, so they should not be discover’d by the Trojans, but perform Actions which all Troy should hear with Sorrow; yet on the other hand it might imply, that as they discovered the Bird by the Noise of its Wings, so they should be betray’d by the Noise they should make in the Trojan Army. The Reason why Pallas does not send the Bird that is sacred to her self, but the Heron, is because it is a Bird of Prey, and denoted that they should spoil the Trojans. Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 355. Thro’ Dust, thro’ Blood, &c.]
Zenophon has imitated this Passage; but what the Poet gives us in one Line, the Historian portracts into several Sentences.
[Greek], &c.
"When the Battel was over, one might behold the Ground dy’d red with Blood, and cover’d with the Dead; Spears broken, and drawn Swords, some on the Ground, some in the Bodies of the slain.
Eustathius.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 356. Nor less bold Hector, &c.]
It is the Remark of Eustathius, that Homer sends out the Trojan Spy in this Place in a very different manner from the Grecian ones before. Having been very particular in describing the Counsel of the Greeks, he avoids tiring the Reader here with parallel Circumstances, and passes it in general Terms. In the first, a wise old Man proposes the Adventure with an Air of Deference; in the second, a brave young Man with an Air of Authority. The one promises a small Gift, but very honourable and certain; the other a great one, but uncertain and less honourable, because ’tis given as a Reward. So that Diomed and Ulysses are inspired with the Love of Glory, Dolon is possest with a Thirst of Gain: They proceed with a sage and circumspect Valour, he with Rashness and Vanity; they go in Conjunction, he alone; they cross the Fields out of the Road, he follows the common Track. In all this there is a Contraste that is admirable, and a Moral that strikes every Reader at first Sight.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 370. Dolon his Name. ]
’Tis scarce to be conceiv’d with what Conciseness the Poet has here given us the Name, the Fortunes, the Pedigree, the Office, the Shape, the Swiftness of Dolon. He seems to have been eminent for nothing so much as for his Wealth, tho’ undoubtedly he was by Place one of the first Rank in Troy: Hector summons him to this Assembly amongst the Chiefs of Troy; nor was he unknown to the Greeks, for Diomed immediately after he had seiz’d him, calls him by his Name. Perhaps being an Herald, he had frequently pass’d between the Armies in the Execution of his Office.
The Ancients observ’d upon this Place, that it was the Office of Dolon which made him offer himself to Hector. The Sacred Character gave him hopes that they would not violate his Person, should he happen to be taken; and his Riches he knew were sufficient to purchase his Liberty; besides all which Advantages, he had hopes from his Swiftness to escape any Pursuers. Eustathius.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 374. Not blest by Nature with the Charms of Face. ]
The Original is,
[Greek]
Which some ancient Criticks thought to include a Contradiction, because the Man who is ill-shap’d can hardly be swift in running; taking the word [Greek]as apply’d in general to the Air of the whole Person. But Aristotle acquaints us that word was as proper in regard to the Face only, and that it was usual with the Cretans to call a Man with a handsome Face, [Greek]. So that Dolon might want a good Face, and yet be well-shap’d enough to make an excellent Racer. Poet. c. 26.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 379. Swear to grant me, &c.]
It is evident from this whole Narration, that Dolon as a Man of no Worth or Courage; his Covetousness seems to be the sole Motive of his undertaking this Exploit: and whereas Diomed neither desir’d any Reward, nor when promis’d, requir’d any Assurance of it; Dolon demands an Oath, and will not trust the Promise of Hector; he every where discovers a base Spirit, and by the Sequel it will appear, that this vain Boaster instead of discovering the Army of the Enemy, becomes a Traytor to his own. Eustathius.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 380. Th’ immortal Coursers, and the glitt’ring Car. ]
Hector in the foregoing Speech promises the best Horses in the Grecian Army, as a Reward to any one who would undertake what he propos’d. Dolon immediately demands those of Achilles, and confines the general Promise of Hector to the particular Horses of that brave Hero.
There is something very extraordinary in Hector’s taking a solemn Oath, that he will give the Chariots and Steeds of Achilles to Dolon. The Ancients, says Eustathius, knew not whose Vanity most to wonder at, that of Dolon, or Hector; the one for demanding this, or the other for promising it. Tho’ we may take notice, that Virgil lik’d this Extravagance so well as to imitate it, where Ascanius (without being asked) promises the Horses and Armour of Turnus to Nisus, on his undertaking a like Enterprize.
Vidisti, quo Turnus equo, quibus ibat in armis, Aureus; ipsum illum, clypeum cristasque rubentes Excipiam sorti, jam nunc tua praemia, Nise.
Unless one should think the Rashness of such a Promise better agreed with the Ardour of this youthful Prince, than with the Character of an experienc’d Warrior like Hector.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 420. —Such the Space between As when two Teams of Mules, &c.]
I wonder Eustathius takes no notice of the manner of Ploughing used by the Ancients, which is describ’d in these Verses, and of which we have the best Account from Dacier. She is not satisfied with the Explanation given by Didymus, that Homer meant the Space which Mules by their Swiftness gain upon Oxen that plow in the same Field.
"The Grecians (says she) did not plow in the manner now in use. They first broke up the Ground with Oxen, and then plow’d it more lightly with Mules. When they employed two Plows in a Field, they measured the Space they could Plow in a Day, and set their Plows at the two ends of that Space, and those Plows proceeded toward each other. This intermediate Space was constantly fix’d, but less in Proportion for two Plows of Oxen than for two of Mules; because Oxen are slower and toil more in a Field that has not been yet turn’d up, whereas Mules are naturally swifter, and make greater speed in a Ground that has already had the first Plowing. I therefore believe that what Homer calls [Greek], is the Space left by the Husbandmen between two Plows of Mules which till the same Field: And as this Space was so much the greater in a Field already plow’d by Oxen, he adds what he says of Mules, that they are swifter and fitter to give the second Plowing than Oxen, and therefore distinguishes the Field so plowed by the Epithet of deep, [Greek]: For that Space was certain, of so many Acres or Perches, and always larger than in a Field as yet untill’d, which being heavier and more difficult, requir’d the Interval to be so much the less between two Plows of Oxen, because they could not dispatch so much Work. Homer could not have serv’d himself of a juster Comparison for a thing that pass’d in the Fields; at the same time he shews his Experience in the Art of Agriculture, and gives his Verses a most agreeable Ornament, as indeed all the Images drawn from this Art are peculiarly entertaining.
This manner of measuring a Space of Ground by a Comparison from Plowing, seems to have been customary in those times, from that Passage in the first Book of Samuel, Ch. 14. ℣. 14. And the first Slaughter which Jonathan and his Armour-bearer made, was about twenty Men, within as it were half a Furrow of an Acre of Land, which a Yoke of Oxen might plow.
Note XL.
VERSE 444. Quiver’d as he stood, &c.]
The Poet here gives us a very lively Picture of a Person in the utmost Agonies of Fear: Dolon’s Swiftness forsakes him, and he stands shackled by his Cowardice. The very Words express the thing he describes by the broken Turn of the Greek Verses. And something like it is aimed at in the English.
— [Greek]—
Note XLI.
VERSE 454. Be bold, nor fear to die. ]
’Tis observable what Caution the Poet here uses in reference to Dolon: Ulysses does not make him any Promises of Life, but only bids him very artfully not to think of dying: So that when Diomed kills him, he was not guilty of a Breach of Promise, and the Spy was deceiv’d rather by the Art and Subtlety of Ulysses, than by his Falshood. Dolon’s Understanding seems entirely to be disturb’d by his Fears; he was so cautious as not to believe a Friend just before without an Oath, but here he trusts an Enemy without so much as a Promise. Eustathius.
Note XLII.
VERSE 467. Urg’d me unwilling. ]
’Tis observable that the Cowardice of Dolon here betrays him into a Falshood: Tho’ Eustathius is of Opinion that the word in the Original means no more than contrary to my Judgment.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 477. Where lies encamp’d. ]
The Night was now very far advanc’d, the Morning approach’d, and the two Heroes had their whole Design still to execute: Ulysses therefore complies with the Necessity of the Time, and makes his Questions very short, tho’ at the same time very full. In the like manner when Ulysses comes to shew Diomed the Chariot of Rhesus, he uses a sudden Transition without the usual Form of speaking.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 488. No certain Guards. ]
Homer to give an Air of Probability to this Narration, lets us understand that the Trojan Camp might easily be enter’d without a Discovery, because there were no Centinels to guard it. This might happen partly thro’ the Security which their late Success had thrown them into, and partly thro’ the Fatigues of the former Day. Besides which, Homer gives us another very natural Reason, the Negligence of the auxiliar Forces, who being Foreigners, had nothing to lose by the Fall of Troy.
Note XLV.
VERSE 489. Where e’er yon Fires ascend. ]
This is not to be understood of those Fires which Hector commanded to be kindled at the beginning of this Night, but only of the houshold Fires of the Trojans, distinct from the Auxiliars. The Expression in the Original is somewhat remarkable; but implies those People that were Natives of Troy; [Greek]and [Greek]signifying the same thing. So that [Greek]and [Greek]mean to have Houses or Hearths in Troy. Eustathius.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 525. Divides the Neck. ]
It may seem a Piece of Barbarity in Diomed to kill Dolon thus, in the very Act of supplicating for Mercy. Eustathius answers, that it was very necessary that it should be so, for fear, if he had defer’d his Death, he might have cry’d out to the Trojans, who hearing his Voice, would have been upon their guard.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 578. Just then a deathful Dream Minerva sent. ]
All the Circumstances of this Action, the Night, Rhesus buried in a profound Sleep, and Diomed with the Sword in his Hand hanging over the Head of that Prince, furnish’d Homer with the Idea of this Fiction, which represents Rhesus dying fast asleep, and as it were beholding his Enemy in a Dream plunging a Sword into his Bosom. This Image is very natural, for a Man in this Condition awakes no farther than to see confusedly what environs him, and to think it not a Reality, but a Vision. Eustathius, Dacier.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 607. And wakes Hippocoon.]
Apollo’s waking the Trojans is only an Allegory to imply that the Light of the Morning awaken’d them. Eustathius.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 624. Old Nestor first perceiv’d, &c.]
It may with an Appearance of Reason be ask’d, whence it could be that Nestor, whose Sense of hearing might be suppos’d to be impair’d by his great Age, should be the first Person among so many youthful Warriors who hears the Tread of the Horse’s Feet at a distance? Eustathius answers, that Nestor had a particular Concern for the Safety of Diomed and Ulysses on this Occasion, as he was the Person who, by proposing the Undertaking, had exposed them to a very signal Danger: and consequently his extraordinary Care for their Preservation, did more than supply the Disadvantage of his Age. This agrees very well with what immediately follows; for the old Man breaks out into a Transport at the Sight of them, and in a wild sort of Joy asks some Questions, which could not have proceeded from him, but while he was under that happy Surprize. Eustathius.
Note L.
VERSE 656. Of Thracian Lineage, &c.]
It is observable, says Eustathius, that Homer in this Place unravels the Series of this Night’s Exploits, and inverts the Order of the former Narration. This is partly occasion’d by a Necessity of Nestor’s Enquiries, and partly to relate the same thing in a diffeway, that he might not tire the Reader with an exact Repetition of what he knew before.
Note LI.
VERSE 659. And twelve beside, &c.]
How comes it to pass that the Poet should here call Dolon the thirteenth that was slain, whereas he had already number’d up thirteen besides him? Eustathius answers, that he mentions Rhesus by himself, by way of Eminence. Then coming to recount the Thracians, he reckons twelve of ’em; so that taking Rhesus separately, Dolon will make the thirteenth.
Note LII.
VERSE 674. They cleanse their Bodies in the Main, &c.]
We have here a Regimen very agreeable to the Simplicity and Austerity of the old heroic Times. These Warriors plunge into the Sea to wash themselves; for the salt Water is not only more purifying than any other, but more corroborates the Nerves. They afterwards enter into a Bath, and rub their Bodies with Oil, which by softening and moistening the Flesh prevents too great a Dissipation, and restores the natural Strength. Eustathius.
Note LIII.
VERSE 677. In due Repast, &c.]
It appears from hence with what Preciseness Homer distinguishes the Time of these Actions. ’Tis evident from this Passage, that immediately after their Return, it was Day-light; that being the Time of taking such a Repast as is here describ’d.
Note LIV.
I cannot conclude the Notes to this Book without observing, that what seems the principal Beauty of it, and what distinguishes it among all the others, is the Liveliness of its Paintings: The Reader sees the most natural Night-Scene in the World; he is led step by step with the Adventurers, and made the Companion of all their Expectations, and Uncertainties. We see the very Colour of the Sky, know the Time to a Minute, are impatient while the Heroes are arming, our Imagination steals out after them, becomes privy to all their Doubts, and even to the secret Wishes of their Hearts sent up to Minerva. We are alarmed at the Approach of Dolon, hear his very Footsteps, assist the two Chiefs in pursuing him, and stop just with the Spear that arrests him. We are perfectly acquainted with the Situation of all the Forces, with the Figure in which they lie, with the Disposition of Rhesus and the Thracians, with the Posture of his Chariot and Horses. The marshy Spot of Ground where Dolon is killed, the Tamarisk, or aquatic Plants upon which they hang his Spoils, and the Reeds that are heap’d together to mark the Place, are Circumstances the most Picturesque imaginable. And tho’ it must be owned, that the human Figures in this Piece are excellent, and disposed in the properest Actions; I cannot but confess my Opinion, that the chief Beauty of it is in the Prospect, a finer than which was never drawn by any Pencil.
Book XI THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
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.
Index to The Argument
- [1-18] The Goddess Discord rouses the Greeks
- [19-68] Agamemnon arms for battle
- [69-126] The armies clash; the battle is joined
- [127-216] Agamemnon's aristeia and great slaughter
- [217-280] Jupiter's command to Hector via Iris
- [281-340] Agamemnon's glory and wounding
- [341-364] Agamemnon retires from the field
- [365-402] Hector's onslaught
- [403-472] Ulysses and Diomed check the Trojan advance
- [473-508] Paris wounds Diomed, who withdraws
- [509-577] Ulysses is surrounded and wounded
- [578-619] Menelaus and Ajax rescue Ulysses
- [620-641] Paris wounds Machaon; Nestor evacuates him
- [642-725] The great fighting retreat of Ajax
- [726-753] Achilles sees Nestor's chariot and sends Patroclus
- [754-813] Patroclus arrives at Nestor's tent
- [814-897] Nestor's long tale of his youthful wars
- [898-933] Nestor's plea: Urge Achilles to fight, or fight in his armour
- [934-985] Patroclus meets and tends the wounded Eurypylus
- [73-217] Scene: The field near Ilus' Tomb
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.
When baleful Eris, sent by Jove’s Command,
The Torch of Discord blazing in her Hand,
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
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,
The same which once King Cinyras possest:
(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
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;
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,
50His 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
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.
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
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;
Aeneas, 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.
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;
While streamy Sparkles, restless as he flies,
Flash from his Arms as Light’ning from the Skies.
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:
100Discord 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.
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.
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)
Then, nor till then, the Greeks impulsive Might
Pierc’d the black Phalanx, and let in the Light.
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, and stretch’d him on the Ground:
Atrides spoil’d, and left them on the Plain;
Vain was their Youth, their glitt’ring Armour vain:
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.
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:
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.
150The 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;
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:
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.
His Brother leap’d to Earth; but as he lay,
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.
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.
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.
200As 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.
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;
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.
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 Scaean 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.
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’ Idaean 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.
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:
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,
250Till 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,
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.
Ye sacred Nine, Celestial Muses! tell,
Who fac’d him first, and by his Prowess fell?
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.
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
( 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.
300Then 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.
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.
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,
Then grinding Tortures his strong Bosom rend,
Less keen those Darts the fierce Ilythiae send,
(The Pow’rs that cause the teeming Matron’s Throes,
Sad Mothers of unutterable Woes!)
350Stung 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:
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.
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.
Say Muse! when Jove the Trojan’s Glory crown’d,
Beneath his Arm what Heroes bit the Ground?
Assaeus, 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,
Aesymnus, 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.
400Thus 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;
But wise Ulysses call’d Tydides forth,
His Soul rekindled, and awak’d his Worth.
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 Thymbraeus 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:
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 Paeonian 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.
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:
450Here 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 Phoebus’ 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 Phoebus for thy forfeit Breath,
Or thank that Swiftness which outstrips the Death.
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,
From ancient Ilus’ ruin’d Monument;
Behind the Column plac’d, he bent his Bow,
And wing’d an Arrow at th’ unwary Foe;
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,
But pierc’d his Foot, and nail’d it to the Plain.
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!
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,
500Where 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:
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,
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;
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;
Thro’ the strong Brass the ringing Javelin thrown,
Plow’d half his side, and bar’d it to the Bone.
By Pallas’ Care, the Spear, tho’ deep infix’d,
Stop’d short of Life, nor with his Entrails mix’d.
550The 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.
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.
Ah Wretch! no Father shall thy Corps compose,
Thy dying Eyes no tender Mother close,
But hungry Birds shall tear those Balls away,
And hov’ring Vulturs scream around their Prey.
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.
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;
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,
600The 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;
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.
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.
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!
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;
650There 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.
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,
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,
700Drinks 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.
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.
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:
His Coursers steep’d in Sweat, and stain’d with Gore,
The Greeks Preserver, great Machaon bore.
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.
His Friend Machaon singled from the rest,
A transient Pity touch’d his vengeful Breast.
Strait to Maenetius’ 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:
Now at my Knees the Greeks shall pour their Moan,
And proud Atrides tremble on his Throne.
Go now to Nestor, and from him be taught
What wounded Warrior late his Chariot brought?
For seen at distance, and but seen behind,
750His 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,
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)
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,
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:
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
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.
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.
Can then the Sons of Greece (the Sage rejoin’d)
800Excite 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.
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,
The Bulls of Elis in glad Triumph led,
And stretch’d the great Itymonaeus 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.
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,
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;
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;
Not far the Streams of fam’d Alphaeus flow;
The Stream they pass’d, and pitch’d their Tents below.
Pallas, descending in the Shades of Night,
850Alarms 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 Alphaeus’ 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 Alphaeus; and a Bull was slain
To the blue Monarch of the wat’ry Main.
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,
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.
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
900Her 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.
Thy self, Achilles, and thy rev’rend Sire
Menoetius, 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;
Peleus said only this,—"My Son! be brave.
Menoetius 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.
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,
If ought from Heav’n with-hold his saving Arm;
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 arife:
There sad he met the brave Evaemon’s Son,
Large painful Drops from all his Members run,
An Arrow’s Head yet rooted in his Wound,
The fable 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.
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,
950Far 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.
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:
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.
Observations on the 11th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
- Note LVIII.
Note I.
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.
[Greek]
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.
Note II.
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 Eris 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.
Note III.
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.
Note IV.
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.
Note V.
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.
Note VI.
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.
Note VII.
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.
Note VIII.
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.
Note IX.
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.
Note X.
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, ℣. 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 longliv’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 Chaldaeans, 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 12 th 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.
Note XI.
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.
Note XII.
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.
Note XIII.
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.
Note XIV.
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.
Note XV.
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.
Note XVI.
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.
Note XVII.
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 [Greek], from the Figure of an Half-Moon.
Note XVIII.
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,
"For, says he, which comprehends a severe Raillery: 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.
Note XIX.
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 Scaean 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.
Note XX.
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.
Note XXI.
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.
Note XXII.
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.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 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.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 349. The fierce Ilythiae.]
These Ilythiae 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.
Note XXV.
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.
Note XXVI.
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.
Note XXVII.
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.
Note XXVIII.
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.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 477. Ilus’ 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.
Note XXX.
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.
Note XXXI.
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. Eustathius.
Note XXXII.
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.
Note XXXIII.
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.
Note XXXIV.
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, [Greek]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 Daemons 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 [Greek], the invisible Guides of Life.
Note XXXV.
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.
Note XXXVI.
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.
Note XXXVII.
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.
Note XXXVIII.
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.
Note XXXIX.
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 Diaetetic 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, ℣. 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, ℣. 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.
Note XL.
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 plagae— &c. Aen. 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 Aeneid; 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, [Greek]and [Greek], 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.
Note XLI.
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.
Note XLII.
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.
Note XLIII.
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 Aesculapius, 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.
Note XLIV.
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.
Note XLV.
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.
Note XLVI.
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.
Note XLVII.
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 [Greek]but [Greek], when spoken but of two. But why then may it not signify any other old Men?
Note XLVIII.
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. Caelius Aurelianus, lib. 4. c. 14.
Note XLIX.
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.
Note L.
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.
Note LI.
VERSE 839. At the publick Course Detain’d his Chariot. ]
’Tis said that these were particular 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.
Note LII.
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.
Note LIII.
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.
Note LIV.
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 Menoetius 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.
Note LV.
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.
Note LVI.
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.
Note LVII.
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.
Note LVIII.
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.
Book XII THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Greeks being retir’d into their Entrenchments, Hector attempts to force them; but it proving impossible to pass the Ditch, Polydamas advises to quit their Chariots, and manage the Attack on Foot. The Trojans follow his Counsel, and having divided their Army into five Bodies of Foot, begin the Assault. But upon the Signal of an Eagle with a Serpent in his Talons, which appear’d on the left Hand of the Trojans, Polydamas endeavours to withdraw them again. This Hector opposes, and continues the Attack; in which, after many Actions, Sarpedon makes the first Breach in the Wall: Hector also casting a Stone of a vast Size, forces open one of the Gates, and enters at the Head of his Troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their Ships.
Index to The Argument
- [1-40] Prelude: battle renewed & the wall’s doomed fate
- [41-90] Hector sweeps to the ditch; Polydamas counsels to fight on foot
- [93-118] Five Trojan corps deployed before the wall
- [125-160] Asius’ headlong chariot charge at the western gate
- [161-200] Storm of stones; Asius repulsed and railing at the gods
- [211-228] Lapith heroics: Polypoetes & Leonteus heap the dead
- [229-298] The eagle-serpent portent and the quarrel of seers and prince
- [299-344] Zeus sends a dust-storm; Trojans mine and batter
- [345-396] Sarpedon’s royal exhortation to Glaucus
- [399-450] Lycians assault Menestheus’ sector; Ajax and Teucer hurry up
- [451-472] Ajax fells Epicles; Teucer wounds Glaucus
- [473-488] Sarpedon tears the first breach
- [505-526] Deadlock: weight of men and stone hangs even
- [529-562] Hector’s colossal stone shatters the gate; Trojans pour in
WHile thus the Hero’s pious Cares attend
The Cure and Safety of his wounded Friend,
Trojans and Greeks with clashing Shields engage,
And mutual Deaths are dealt with mutual Rage.
Nor long the Trench or lofty Walls oppose;
With Gods averse th’ ill-fated Works arose;
Their Pow’rs neglected and no Victim slain,
The Walls were rais’d, the Trenches sunk in vain.
Without the Gods, how short a Period stands
The proudest Monument of mortal Hands!
This stood, while Hector and Achilles rag’d,
While sacred Troy the warring Hosts engag’d;
But when her Sons were slain, her City burn’d,
And what surviv’d of Greece to Greece return’d;
Then Neptune and Apollo shook the Shore,
Then Ida’s Summits pour’d their wat’ry Store;
Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their Rills,
Caresus roaring down the stony Hills,
Aesepus, Granicus, with mingled Force,
And Zanthus foaming from his fruitful Source;
And gulphy Simois, rolling to the Main
Helmets, and Shields, and God-like Heroes slain:
These, turn’d by Phoebus from their wonted ways,
Delug’d the Rampire nine continual Days;
The Weight of Waters saps the yielding Wall,
And to the Sea the floating Bulwarks fall.
Incessant Cataracts the Thund’rer pours,
And half the Skies descend in sluicy Show’rs.
The God of Ocean, marching stern before,
With his huge Trident wounds the trembling Shore,
Vast Stones and Piles from their Foundation heaves,
And whelms the smoaky Ruin in the Waves.
Now smooth’d with Sand, and levell’d by the Flood,
No Fragment tells where once the Wonder stood;
In their old Bounds the Rivers roll again,
Shine ’twixt the Hills, or wander o’er the Plain.
But this the Gods in later Times perform;
As yet the Bulwark stood, and brav’d the Storm;
The Strokes yet echo’d of contending Pow’rs;
War thunder’d at the Gates, and Blood distain’d the Tow’rs.
Smote by the Arm of Jove, with dire Dismay,
Close by their hollow Ships the Grecians lay;
Hector’s Approach in ev’ry Wind they hear,
And Hector’s Fury ev’ry moment fear.
He, like a Whirlwind, toss’d the scatt’ring Throng,
Mingled the Troops, and drove the Field along.
So ’midst the Dogs and Hunter’s daring Bands,
Fierce of his Might, a Boar or Lion stands;
Arm’d Foes around a dreadful Circle form,
And hissing Javelins rain an Iron Storm:
50His Pow’rs untam’d their bold Assault defy,
And where he turns, the Rout disperse, or die:
He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all,
And if he falls, his Courage makes him fall.
With equal Rage encompass’d Hector glows;
Exhorts his Armies, and the Trenches shows.
The panting Steeds impatient Fury breathe,
But snort and tremble at the Gulph beneath;
Just on the Brink, they neigh, and paw the Ground,
And the Turf trembles, and the Skies resound.
Eager they view’d the Prospect dark and deep,
Vast was the Leap, and headlong hung the Steep;
The bottom bare, (a formidable Show!)
And bristled thick with sharpen’d Stakes below.
The Foot alone this strong Defence could force,
And try the Pass impervious to the Horse.
This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave,
Restrain’d great Hector, and this Counsel gave.
Oh thou! brave Leader of our Trojan Bands,
And you, confed’rate Chiefs from foreign Lands!
What Entrance here can cumb’rous Chariots find,
The Stakes beneath, the Grecian Walls behind?
No Pass thro’ those, without a thousand Wounds,
No Space for Combat in yon’ narrow Bounds.
Proud of the Favours mighty Jove has shown,
On certain Dangers we too rashly run:
If ’tis his Will our haughty Foes to tame,
Oh may this Instant end the Grecian Name!
Here, far from Argos, let their Heroes fall,
And one great Day destroy, and bury all!
But should they turn, and here oppress our Train,
What Hopes, what Methods of Retreat remain?
Wedg’d in the Trench, by our own Troops confus’d,
In one promiscuous Carnage crush’d and bruis’d,
All Troy must perish, if their Arms prevail,
Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the Tale.
Hear then ye Warriors! and obey with speed;
Back from the Trenches let your Steeds be led;
Then all alighting, wedg’d in firm Array,
Proceed on Foot, and Hector lead the way.
So Greece shall stoop before our conqu’ring Pow’r,
And this (if Jove consent) her fatal Hour.
This Counsel pleas’d: the God-like Hector sprung
Swift from his Seat; his clanging Armour rung.
The Chief’s Example follow’d by his Train,
Each quits his Car, and issues on the Plain.
By Orders strict the Charioteers enjoin’d,
Compell the Coursers to their Ranks behind.
The Forces part in five distinguish’d Bands,
And all obey their sev’ral Chief’s Commands.
100The best and bravest in the first conspire,
Pant for the Fight, and threat the Fleet with Fire:
Great Hector glories in the Van of these,
Polydamas, and brave Cebriones.
Before the next the graceful Paris shines,
And bold Alcathous, and Agenor joins.
The Sons of Priam with the third appear,
Deiphobus, and Helenus the Seer:
In Arms with these the mighty Asius stood,
Who drew from Hyrtacus his noble Blood,
And whom Arisba’s yellow Coursers bore,
The Coursers fed on Selle’s winding Shore.
Antenor’s Sons the fourth Battalion guide,
And great Aeneas, born on fount-full Ide.
Divine Sarpedon the last Band obey’d,
Whom Glaucus and Asteropaeus aid,
Next him, the bravest at their Army’s Head,
But he more brave than all the Hosts he led.
Now with compacted Shields, in close Array,
The moving Legions speed their headlong way:
Already in their Hopes they fire the Fleet,
And see the Grecians gasping at their Feet.
While ev’ry Trojan thus, and ev’ry Aid,
Th’Advice of wise Polydamas obey’d;
Asius alone, confiding in his Car,
His vaunted Coursers urg’d to meet the War.
Unhappy Hero! and advis’d in vain!
Those Wheels returning ne’er shall mark the Plain;
No more those Coursers with triumphant Joy
Restore their Master to the Gates of Troy!
Black Death attends behind the Grecian Wall,
And great Idomeneus shall boast thy Fall!
Fierce to the left he drives, where from the Plain
The flying Grecians strove their Ships to gain;
Swift thro’ the Wall their Horse and Chariots past,
The Gates half-open’d to receive the last.
Thither, exulting in his Force, he flies;
His following Host with Clamours rend the Skies:
To plunge the Grecians headlong in the Main,
Such their proud Hopes, but all their Hopes were vain!
To guard the Gates, two mighty Chiefs attend,
Who from the Lapiths warlike Race descend;
This Polypaetes, great Perithous’ Heir,
And that Leonteus, like the God of War.
As two tall Oaks, before the Wall they rise;
Their Roots in Earth, their Heads amidst the Skies,
Whose spreading Arms with leafy Honours crown’d,
Forbid the Tempest, and protect the Ground;
High on the Hills appears their stately Form,
And their deep Roots for ever brave the Storm.
150So graceful these, and so the Shock they stand
Of raging Asius, and his furious Band.
Orestes, Acamas in Front appear,
And Oenomaus and Thoon close the Rear;
In vain their Clamours shake the ambient Fields,
In vain around them beat their hollow Shields;
The fearless Brothers on the Grecians call,
To guard their Navies, and defend the Wall.
Ev’n when they saw Troy’s sable Troops impend,
And Greece tumultuous from her Tow’rs descend,
Forth from the Portals rush’d th’ intrepid Pair,
Oppos’d their Breasts, and stood themselves the War.
So two wild Boars spring furious from their Den,
Rouz’d with the Cries of Dogs, and Voice of Men;
On ev’ry side the crackling Trees they tear,
And root the Shrubs, and lay the Forest bare;
They gnash their Tusks, with Fire their Eye-balls roll,
Till some wide Wound lets out their mighty Soul.
Around their Heads the whistling Javelins sung;
With sounding Strokes their brazen Targets rung:
Fierce was the Fight, while yet the Grecian Pow’rs
Maintain’d the Walls and mann’d the lofty Tow’rs:
To save their Fleet, the last Efforts they try,
And Stones and Darts in mingled Tempests fly.
As when sharp Boreas blows abroad, and brings
The dreary Winter on his frozen Wings;
Beneath the low-hung Clouds the Sheets of Snow
Descend, and whiten all the Fields below.
So fast the Darts on either Army pour,
So down the Rampires rolls the rocky Show’r;
Heavy, and thick, resound the batter’d Shields,
And the deaf Eccho rattles round the Fields.
With Shame repuls’d, with Grief and Fury driv’n,
The frantic Asius thus accuses Heav’n.
In Pow’rs immortal who shall now believe?
Can those too flatter, and can Jove deceive?
What Man could doubt but Troy’s victorious Pow’r
Should humble Greece, and this her fatal Hour?
But look how Wasps from hollow Crannies drive,
To guard the Entrance of their common Hive,
Dark’ning the Rock, while with unweary’d Wings
They strike th’Assailants, and infix their Stings;
A Race determin’d, that to Death contend:
So fierce, these Greeks their last Retreats defend.
Gods! shall two Warriors only guard their Gates,
Repell an Army, and defraud the Fates?
These empty Accents mingled with the Wind,
Nor mov’d great Jove’s unalterable Mind;
To God-like Hector and his matchless Might
Was ow’d the Glory of the destin’d Fight.
200Like Deeds of Arms thro’ all the Forts were try’d,
And all the Gates sustain’d an equal Tide;
Thro’ the long Walls the stony Show’rs were heard,
The Blaze of Flames, the Flash of Arms appear’d.
The Spirit of a God my Breast inspire,
To raise each Act to Life, and sing with Fire!
While Greece unconquer’d kept alive the War,
Secure of Death, confiding in Despair;
And all her guardian Gods in deep Dismay,
With unassisting Arms deplor’d the Day.
Ev’n yet the dauntless Lapithae maintain
The dreadful Pass, and round them heap the slain.
First Damasus, by Polypoetes’ Steel,
Pierc’d thro’ his Helmet’s brazen Vizor, fell;
The Weapon drank the mingled Brains and Gore;
The Warrior sinks, tremendous now no more!
Next Ormenus and Pylon yield their Breath:
Nor less Leonteus strows the Field with Death;
First thro’ the Belt Hippomachus he goar’d,
Then sudden wav’d his unresisted Sword;
Antiphates, as thro’ the Ranks he broke,
The Faulchion strook, and Fate pursu’d the Stroke;
Iämenus, Orestes, Menon, bled;
And round him rose a Monument of Dead.
Mean-time the bravest of the the Trojan Crew
Bold Hector and Polydamas pursue;
Fierce with Impatience on the Works to fall,
And wrap in rowling Flames the Fleet and Wall.
These on the farther Bank now stood and gaz’d,
By Heav’n alarm’d, by Prodigies amaz’d:
A signal Omen stopp’d the passing Host,
Their martial Fury in their Wonder lost.
Jove’s Bird on sounding Pinions beat the Skies;
A bleeding Serpent, of enormous Size,
His Talons truss’d; alive, and curling round,
He stung the Bird, whose Throat receiv’d the Wound:
Mad with the Smart, he drops the fatal Prey,
In airy Circles wings his painful way,
Floats on the Winds, and rends the Heav’ns with Cries:
Amidst the Host the fallen Serpent lies:
They, pale with Terror, mark its Spires unroll’d,
And Jove’s Portent with beating Hearts behold.
Then first Polydamas the Silence broke,
Long weigh’d the Signal, and to Hector spoke.
How oft, my Brother, thy Reproach I bear,
For Words well meant, and Sentiments sincere?
True to those Counsels which I judge the best,
I tell the faithful Dictates of my Breast.
To speak his Thought, is ev’ry Freeman’s Right,
In Peace and War, in Council, and in Fight;
250And all I move, deferring to thy Sway,
But tends to raise that Pow’r which I obey.
Then hear my Words, nor may my Words be vain:
Seek not, this Day, the Grecian Ships to gain;
For sure to warn us Jove his Omen sent,
And thus my Mind explains its clear Event.
The Victor Eagle, whose sinister Flight
Retards our Host, and fills our Hearts with Fright,
Dismiss’d his Conquest in the middle Skies,
Allow’d to seize, but not possess the Prize;
Thus tho’ we gird with Fires the Grecian Fleet,
Tho’ these proud Bulwarks tumble at our Feet,
Toils unforeseen, and fiercer, are decreed;
More Woes shall follow, and more Heroes bleed.
So bodes my Soul, and bids me thus advise;
For thus a skilful Seer would read the Skies.
To him then Hector with Disdain return’d;
(Fierce as he spoke, his Eyes with Fury burn’d)
Are these the faithful Counsels of thy Tongue?
Thy Will is partial, not thy Reason wrong:
Or if the Purpose of thy Heart thou vent,
Sure Heav’n resumes the little Sense it lent.
What coward Counsels would thy Madness move,
Against the Word, the Will reveal’d of Jove?
The leading Sign, th’ irrevocable Nod,
And happy Thunders of the fav’ring God,
These shall I slight? and guide my wav’ring Mind
By wand’ring Birds, that flit with ev’ry Wind?
Ye Vagrants of the Sky! your Wings extend,
Or where the Suns arise, or where descend;
To right, to left, unheeded take your way,
While I the Dictates of high Heav’n obey.
Without a Sign, his Sword the brave Man draws,
And asks no Omen but his Country’s Cause.
But why should’st thou suspect the War’s Success?
None fears it more, as none promotes it less:
Tho’ all our Chiefs amid yon’ Ships expire,
Trust thy own Cowardice to ’scape their Fire.
Troy and her Sons may find a gen’ral Grave,
But thou can’st live, for thou can’st be a Slave.
Yet should the Fears that wary Mind suggests
Spread their cold Poison thro’ our Soldier’s Breasts,
My Javelin can revenge so base a Part,
And free the Soul that quivers in thy Heart.
Furious he spoke, and rushing to the Wall,
Calls on his Host; his Host obey the Call;
With Ardour follow where their Leader flies:
Redoubling Clamours thunder in the Skies.
Jove breaths a Whirlwind from the Hills of Ide,
And Drifts of Dust the clouded Navy hide:
300He fills the Greeks with Terror and Dismay,
And gives great Hector the predestin’d Day.
Strong in themselves, but stronger in his Aid,
Close to the Works their rigid Siege they laid.
In vain the Mounds and massy Beams defend,
While these they undermine, and those they rend;
Upheave the Piles that prop the solid Wall;
And Heaps on Heaps the smoaky Ruins fall.
Greece on her Ramparts stands the fierce Alarms;
The crowded Bulwarks blaze with waving Arms,
Shield touching Shield, a long-refulgent Row;
Whence hissing Darts, incessant, rain below.
The bold Ajaces fly from Tow’r to Tow’r,
And rouze, with Flame divine, the Grecian Pow’r.
The gen’rous Impulse ev’ry Greek obeys;
Threats urge the fearful, and the valiant, Praise.
Fellows in Arms! whose Deeds are known to Fame,
And you whose Ardour hopes an equal Name!
Since not alike endu’d with Force or Art,
Behold a Day when each may act his Part!
A Day to fire the brave, and warm the cold,
To gain new Glories, or augment the old.
Urge those who stand, and those who faint excite;
Drown Hector’s Vaunts in loud Exhorts of Fight;
Conquest, not Safety, fill the Thoughts of all;
Seek not your Fleet, but sally from the Wall;
So Jove once more may drive their routed Train,
And Troy lie trembling in her Walls again.
Their Ardour kindles all the Grecian Pow’rs;
And now the Stones descend in heavier Show’rs.
As when high Jove his sharp Artill’ry forms,
And opes his cloudy Magazine of Storms;
In Winter’s bleak, uncomfortable Reign,
A Snowy Inundation hides the Plain;
He stills the Winds, and bids the Skies to sleep;
Then pours the silent Tempest, thick, and deep:
And first the Mountain Tops are cover’d o’er,
Then the green Fields, and then the sandy Shore;
Bent with the Weight the nodding Woods are seen,
And one bright Waste hides all the Works of Men:
The circling Seas alone absorbing all,
Drink the dissolving Fleeces as they fall.
So from each side increas’d the stony Rain,
And the white Ruin rises o’er the Plain.
Thus God-like Hector and his Troops contend
To force the Ramparts, and the Gates to rend;
Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield,
Till great Sarpedon tow’r’d amid the Field;
For mighty Jove inspir’d with martial Flame
His matchless Son, and urg’d him on to Fame.
350In Arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,
And bears aloft his ample Shield in Air;
Within whose Orb the thick Bull-Hides were roll’d,
Pond’rous with Brass, and bound with ductile Gold:
And while two pointed Javelins arm his Hands,
Majestick moves along, and leads his Lycian Bands.
So press’d with Hunger, from the Mountain’s Brow
Descends a Lion on the Flocks below;
So stalks the lordly Savage o’er the Plain,
In sullen Majesty, and stern Disdain:
In vain loud Mastives bay him from from afar,
And Shepherds gaul him with an Iron War;
Regardless, furious, he pursues his way;
He foams, he roars, he rends the panting Prey.
Resolv’d alike, divine Sarpedon glows
With gen’rous Rage that drives him on the Foes.
He views the Tow’rs, and meditates their Fall,
To sure Destruction dooms th’ aspiring Wall;
Then casting on his Friend an ardent Look,
Fir’d with the Thirst of Glory, thus he spoke.
Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended Reign,
Where Xanthus’ Streams enrich the Lycian Plain,
Our num’rous Herds that range the fruitful Field,
And Hills where Vines their purple Harvest yield,
Our foaming Bowls with purer Nectar crown’d,
Our Feasts enhanc’d with Music’s sprightly Sound?
Why on those Shores are we with Joy survey’d,
Admir’d as Heroes, and as Gods obey’d?
Unless great Acts superior Merit prove,
And vindicate the bount’ous Pow’rs above.
’Tis ours, the Dignity they give, to grace;
The first in Valour, as the first in Place.
That when with wond’ring Eyes our martial Bands
Behold our Deeds transcending our Commands,
Such, they may cry, deserve the sov’reign State,
Whom those that envy, dare not imitate!
Could all our Care elude the gloomy Grave,
Which claims no less the fearful than the brave,
For Lust of Fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting Fields, nor urge thy Soul to War.
But since, alas! ignoble Age must come,
Disease, and Death’s inexorable Doom;
The Life which others pay, let us bestow,
And give to Fame what we to Nature owe;
Brave tho’ we fall, and honour’d if we live,
Or let us Glory gain, or Glory give!
He said; his Words the list’ning Chief inspire
With equal Warmth, and rouze the Warrior’s Fire;
The Troops pursue their Leaders with Delight,
Rush to the Foe, and claim the promis’d Fight.
400Menestheus from on high the Storm beheld,
Threat’ning the Fort, and black’ning in the Field;
Around the Walls he gaz’d, to view from far
What Aid appear’d t’avert th’ approaching War,
And saw where Teucer with th’ Ajaces stood,
Of Fight insatiate, prodigal of Blood.
In vain he calls; the Din of Helms and Shields
Rings to the Skies, and ecchos thro’ the Fields,
The brazen Hinges fly, the Walls resound,
Heav’n trembles, roar the Mountains, thunders all the Ground.
Then thus to Thoos;— hence with speed, (he said)
And urge the bold Ajaces to our Aid;
Their Strength, united, best may help to bear
The bloody Labours of the doubtful War:
Hither the Lycian Princes bend their Course,
The best and bravest of the hostile Force.
But if too fiercely there the Foes contend,
Let Telamon, at least, our Tow’rs defend,
And Teucer haste with his unerring Bow,
To share the Danger, and repell the Foe.
Swift as the Word, the Herald speeds along
The lofty Ramparts, through the martial Throng;
And finds the Heroes, bath’d in Sweat and Gore,
Oppos’d in Combat on the dusty Shore.
Ye valiant Leaders of our warlike Bands!
Your Aid (said Thoos ) Peteus’ Son demands,
Your Strength, united, best may help to bear
The bloody Labours of the doubtful War:
Thither the Lycian Princes bend their Course,
The best and bravest of the hostile Force.
But if too fiercely, here, the Foes contend,
At least, let Telamon those Tow’rs defend,
And Teucer haste, with his unerring Bow,
To share the Danger, and repell the Foe.
Strait to the Fort great Ajax turn’d his Care,
And thus bespoke his Brothers of the War.
Now valiant Lycomede! exert your Might,
And brave Oïleus, prove your Force in Fight:
To you I trust the Fortune of the Field,
Till by this Arm the Foe shall be repell’d;
That done, expect me to compleat the Day—
Then, with his sev’nfold Shield, he strode away.
With equal Steps bold Teucer press’d the Shore,
Whose fatal Bow the strong Pandion bore.
High on the Walls appear’d the Lycian Pow’rs,
Like some black Tempest gath’ring round the Tow’rs;
The Greeks, oppress’d, their utmost Force unite,
Prepar’d to labour in th’ unequal Fight;
The War renews, mix’d Shouts and Groans arise;
Tumultuous Clamour mounts, and thickens in the Skies.
450Fierce Ajax first th’ advancing Host invades,
And sends the brave Epicles to the Shades;
Sarpedon’s Friend; A-cross the Warrior’s way,
Rent from the Walls a rocky Fragment lay;
In modern Ages not the strongest Swain
Could heave th’ unwieldy Burthen from the Plain.
He poiz’d, and swung it round; then toss’d on high,
It flew with Force, and labour’d up the Sky;
Full on the Lycian’s Helmet thund’ring down,
The pond’rous Ruin crush’d his batter’d Crown.
As skilful Divers, from some airy Steep,
Headlong descend, and shoot into the Deep,
So falls Epicles; then in Groans expires,
And murm’ring to the Shades the Soul retires.
While to the Ramparts daring Glaucus drew,
From Teucer’s Hand a winged Arrow flew;
The bearded Shaft the destin’d Passage found,
And on his naked Arm inflicts a Wound.
The Chief, who fear’d some Foe’s insulting Boast
Might stop the Progress of his warlike Host,
Conceal’d the Wound, and leaping from his Height,
Retir’d reluctant from th’ unfinish’d Fight.
Divine Sarpedon with Regret beheld
Disabl’d Glaucus slowly quit the Field;
His beating Breast with gen’rous Ardour glows,
He springs to Fight, and flies upon the Foes.
Alcmäon first was doom’d his Force to feel;
Deep in his Breast he plung’d the pointed Steel;
Then, from the yawning Wound with Fury tore
The Spear, pursu’d by gushing Streams of Gore;
Down sinks the Warrior with a thund’ring Sound,
His brazen Armour rings against the Ground.
Swift to the Battlement the Victor flies,
Tugs with full force, and ev’ry Nerve applies;
It shakes; the pond’rous Stones disjointed yield;
The rowling Ruins smoak along the Field.
A mighty Breach appears; the Walls lie bare;
And, like a Deluge, rushes in the War.
At once bold Toucer draws the twanging Bow,
And Ajax sends his Javelin at the Foe;
Fix’d in his Belt the feather’d Weapon stood,
And thro’ his Buckler drove the trembling Wood;
But Jove was present in the dire Debate,
To shield his Off-spring, and avert his Fate.
The Prince gave back, not meditating Flight
But urging Vengeance, and severer Fight;
Then rais’d with Hopes, and fir’d with Glory’s Charms,
His fainting Squadrons to new Fury warms.
O where, ye’ Lycians! is the Strength you boast?
Your former Fame, and ancient Virtue lost!
500The Breach lies open, but your Chief in vain
Attempts alone the guarded Pass to gain:
Unite, and soon that hostile Fleet shall fall;
The Force of pow’rful Union conquers all.
This just Rebuke inflam’d the Lycian Crew,
They join, they thicken, and th’ Assault renew;
Unmov’d th’ embody’d Greeks their Fury dare,
And fix’d support the Weight of all the War:
Nor could the Greeks repell the Lycian Pow’rs,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian Tow’rs.
As on the Confines of adjoining Grounds,
Two stubborn Swains with Blows dispute their Bounds;
They tugg, they sweat; but neither gain, nor yield,
One Foot, one Inch, of the contended Field:
Thus obstinate to Death, they fight, they fall;
Nor these can keep, nor those can win the Wall.
Their manly Breasts are pierc’d with many a Wound,
Loud Strokes are heard, and ratling Arms resound,
The copious Slaughter covers all the Shore,
And the high Ramparts drop with human Gore.
As when two Scales are charg’d with doubtful Loads,
From side to side the trembling Balance nods,
(While some laborious Matron, just and poor,
With nice Exactness weighs her woolly Store)
Till pois’d aloft, the resting Beam suspends
Each equal Weight; nor this, nor that, descends.
So stood the War, till Hector’s matchless Might
With Fates prevailing, turn’d the Scale of Fight.
Fierce as a Whirlwind up the Walls he flies,
And fires his Host with loud repeated Cries.
Advance ye Trojans! lend your valiant Hands,
Hast to the Fleet, and toss the blazing Brands!
They hear, they run, and gath’ring at his Call,
Raise scaling Engines, and ascend the Wall:
Around the Works a Wood of glitt’ring Spears
Shoots up, and all the rising Host appears.
A pond’rous Stone bold Hector heav’d to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong Men th’ enormous Weight could raise,
Such Men as live in these degen’rate Days.
Yet this, as easy as a Swain could bear
The snowy Fleece, he toss’d, and shook in Air:
For Jove upheld, and lighten’d of its Load
Th’ unweildy Rock, the Labour of a God.
Thus arm’d, before the folded Gates he came,
Of massy Substance and stupendous Frame;
With Iron Bars and Brazen Hinges strong,
On lofty Beams of solid Timber hung.
Then thund’ring thro’ the Planks, with forceful Sway,
Drives the sharp Rock; the solid Beams give way,
550The Folds are shatter’d; from the crackling Door
Leap the resounding Bars, the flying Hinges roar.
Now rushing in the furious Chief appears,
Gloomy as Night! and shakes two shining Spears:
A dreadful Gleam from his bright Armour came,
And from his Eye-balls flash’d the living Flame;
He moves a God, resistless in his Course,
And seems a Match for more than mortal Force.
Then pouring after thro’ the gaping Space,
A Tyde of Trojans flows, and fills the Place;
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly;
The Shore is heap’d with Death, and Tumult rends the Sky.
Observations on the 12th Book
Notes Index
Note I.
IT may be proper here to take a general View of the Conduct of the Iliad: The whole Design turns upon the Wrath of Achilles: that Wrath is not to be appeas’d but by the Calamities of the Greeks, who are taught by their frequent Defeats the Importance of this Hero: For in Epic, as in Tragic Poetry, there ought to be some evident and necessary Incident at the winding up of the Catastrophe, and that should be founded upon some visible Distress. This Conduct has an admirable Effect, not only as it gives an Air of Probability to the Relation, by allowing Leisure to the Wrath of Achilles to cool and die away by degrees, (who is every where describ’d as a Person of a stubborn Resentment, and consequently ought not to be easily reconcil’d) but also as it highly contributes to the Honour of Achilles, which was to be fully satisfy’d, before he could relent.
Note II.
VERSE 9. Without the Gods how short a Period, &c.]
Homer here teaches a Truth conformable to sacred Scripture, and almost in the very Words of the Psalmist; Unless the Lord build the House, they labour in vain that build it.
Note III.
VERSE 15. Then Neptune and Apollo, &c.]
This whole Episode of the Destruction of the Wall is spoken as a kind of Prophecy, where Homer in a poetical Enthusiasm relates what was to happen in future Ages. It has been conjectur’d from hence that our Author flourish’d not long after the Trojan War; for had he lived at a greater Distance, there had been no occasion to have Recourse to such extraordinary means to destroy a Wall, which would have been lost and worn away by Time alone. Homer (says Aristotle ) foresaw the Question might be ask’d, how it came to pass that no Ruins remain’d of so great a Work? and therefore contrived to give his Fiction the nearest Resemblance to Truth. Inundations and Earthquakes are sufficient to abolish the strongest Works of Man, so as not to leave the least Remains where they stood. But we are told this in a manner wonderfully noble and poetical: We see Apollo turning the Course of the Rivers against the Wall, Jupiter opening the Cataracts of Heaven, and Neptune rending the Foundations with his Trident: That is, the Sun exhales the Vapours, which descend in Rain from the Air or Aether, this Rain causes an Inundation, and that Inundation overturns the Wall. Thus the Poetry of Homer, like Magick, first raises a stupendous Object, and then immediately causes it to vanish.
What farther strengthens the Opinion, that Homer was particularly careful to avoid the Objection which those of his own Age might raise against the Probability of this Fiction, is, that the Verses which contain this Account of the Destruction of the Wall seem to be added and interpolated after the first writing of the Iliad, by Homer himself. I believe the Reader will incline to my Opinion, if he considers the manner in which they are introduced, both here, and in the seventh Book, where first this Wall is mention’d. There, describing how it was made, he ends with this Line,
[Greek]
After which is inserted the Debate of the Gods concerning the Method of its Destruction, at the Conclusion whereof immediately follows a Verse that seems exactly to connect with the former,
[Greek]
In like manner in the present Book, after the fourth Verse,
[Greek]
That which is now the thirty sixth, seems originally to have follow’d.
[Greek], &c.
And all the Lines between (which break the Course of the Narration, and are introduced in a manner not usual in Homer ) seem to have been added for the Reason above-said. I do not insist much upon this Observation, but I doubt not several will agree to it upon a Review of the Passages.
Note IV.
VERSE 24. Nine continual Days. ]
Some of the Ancients thought it incredible that a Wall which was built in one Day by the Greeks, should resist the joint Efforts of three Deities nine Days: To solve this Difficulty, Crates the Mallesian was of Opinion, that it should be writ, [Greek]one day. But there is no occasion to have Recourse to so forc’d a Solution; it being sufficient to observe, that nothing but such an extraordinary Power could have so entirely ruin’d the Wall, that not the least Remains of it should appear; but such a one (as we have before said) Homer stood in need of. Eustathius.
Note V.
VERSE 99. The Forces part in five distinguish’d Bands. ]
The Trojan Army is divided into five Parts, perhaps because there were five Gates in the Wall, so that an Attack might be made upon every Gate at the same Instant: By this means the Greeks would be obliged to disunite, and form themselves into as many Bodies, to guard five Places at the same time.
The Poet here breaks the Thread of his Narration, and stops to give us the Names of the Leaders of every Battalion: By this Conduct he prepares us for an Action entirely new, and different from any other in the Poem. Eustathius.
Note VI.
VERSE 125. Asius alone confiding in his Car. ]
It appears from hence that the three Captains who commanded each Battalion, were not subordinate one to the other, but commanded separately, each being impower’d to order his own Troop as he thought fit: For otherwise Asius had not been permitted to keep his Chariot when the rest were on Foot. One may observe from hence, that Homer does not attribute the same regular Discipline in War to the barbarous Nations, which he had given to his Grecians; and he makes some use too of this Defect, to cast the more Variety over this part of the Description. Dacier.
Note VII.
VERSE 127. Unhappy Hero! &c.]
Homer observes a poetical Justice in Relation to Asius; he punishes his Folly and Impiety with Death, and shews the Danger of despising wise Counsel, and blaspheming the Gods. In Pursuance of this Prophecy, Asius is killed in the thirteenth Book by Idomeneus.
Note VIII.
VERSE 143. This Polypoetes —And that Leonteus, &c.]
These Heroes are the Originals of Pandarus and Bitias in Virgil. We see two gallant Officers exhorting their Soldiers to act bravely; but being deserted by them, they execute their own Commands, and maintain the Pass against the united Force of the Battalions of Asius: Nor does the Poet transgress the Bounds of Probability in the Story: The Greeks from above beat off some of the Trojans with Stones, and the Gate-way being narrow, it was easy to be defended. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 185. The Speech of Asius.]
This Speech of Asius is very extravagant: He exclaims against Jupiter for a Breach of Promise, not because he had broken his Word, but because he had not fulfill’d his own vain Imaginations. This Conduct, tho’ very blameable in Asius, is very natural to Persons under a Disappointment, who are ever ready to blame Heaven, and turn their Misfortunes into a Crime. Eustathius.
Note X.
VERSE 233. Jove ’s Bird on sounding Pinions, &c.]
Virgil has imitated this Passage in the eleventh Aeneid, ℣. 751.
Utque volans altè raptum cum fulva draconem Fert aquila, implicuitque pedes, atque unguibus haesit; Saucius at serpens sinuosa volumina versat, Arrectisque horret squamis, & sibilat ore Arduus insurgens; illa haud minùs urget obunco Luctantem rostro; simul aethera verberat alis.
Which Macrobius compares with this of Homer, and gives the Preference to the Original, on account of Virgil’s having neglected to specify the Omen. His praetermissis, (quod sinistra veniens vincentium prohibebat accessum, & accepto à serpente morsu praedam dolore dejecit; factoque Tripudio solistimo, cum clamore dolorem testante, praetervolat) quae animam Parabolae dabant, velut exanime in latinis versibus corpus remansit. Sat. l. 5. c. 14. But methinks this Criticism might have been spared, had he consider’d that Virgil had no Design, or occasion, to make an Omen of it; but took it only as a natural Image, to paint the Posture of two Warriors strugling with each other.
Note XI.
VERSE 245. The Speech of Polydamas.]
The Address of of Polydamas to Hector in this Speech is admirable: He knew that the daring Spirit of that Hero would not suffer him to listen to any mention of a Retreat: He had already storm’d the Walls in Imagination, and consequently the Advice of Polydamas was sure to meet with a bad Reception. He therefore softens every Expression, and endeavours to flatter Hector into an Assent; and tho’ he is assured he gives a true Interpretation of the Prodigy, he seems to be diffident; but that his personated Distrust may not prejudice the Interpretation, he concludes with a plain Declaration of his Opinion, and tells him that what he delivers is not Conjecture, but Science, and appeals for the Truth of it to the Augurs of the Army. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 267. The Speech of Hector.]
This Speech of Hector’s is full of Spirit: His Valour is greater than the Skill of Polydamas, and he is not to be argu’d into a Retreat. There is something very heroic in that Line,
—His Sword the brave Man draws, And asks no Omen but his Country’s Cause.
And if any thing can add to the Beauty of it, it is in being so well adapted to the Character of him who speaks it, who is every where describ’d as a great Lover of his Country.
It may seem at the first View that Hector uses Polydamas with too much Severity in the Conclusion of his Speech: But he will be sufficiently justify’d, if we consider that the Interpretation of the Omen given by Polydamas might have discourag’d the Army; and this makes it necessary for him to decry the Prediction, and insinuate that the Advice proceeded not from his Skill but his Cowardice. Eustathius.
Note XIII.
VERSE 281. To right, to left, unheeded take your way. ]
Eustathius has found out four Meanings in these two Lines, and tells us that the Words may signify East, West, North, and South. This is writ in the true Spirit of a Critick, who can find out a Mystery in the plainest Words, and is ever learnedly obscure: For my part, I cannot imagine how any thing can be more clearly express’d; I care not, says Hector, whether the Eagle flew on the right, towards the Sun-rising, which was propitious, or on the left towards his setting, which was unlucky.
Note XIV.
VERSE 299. Jove rais’d a Whirlwind. ]
It is worth our Notice to observe how the least Circumstance grows in the Hand of a great Poet. In this Battel it is to be supposed that the Trojans had got the Advantage of the Wind of the Grecians, so that a Cloud of Dust was blown upon their Army: This gave room for this Fiction of Homer, which supposes that Jove, or the Air, rais’d the Dust, and drove it in the Face of the Grecians. Eustathius.
Note XV.
VERSE 348. Till great Sarpedon, &c.]
The Poet here ushers in Sarpedon with Abundance of Pomp: He forces him upon the Observation of the Reader by the Greatness of the Description, and raises our Expectations of him, intending to make him perform many remarkable Actions in the Sequel of the Poem, and become worthy to fall by the Hand of Patroclus. Eustathius.
Note XVI.
VERSE 357. So press’d with Hunger, from the Mountain’s Brow, Descends a Lion. ]
This Comparison very much resembles that of the Prophet Isaiah, Ch. 31. ℣. 4. where God himself is compared to a Lion: Like as the Lion, and the young Lion roaring on his Prey, when a Multitude of Shepherds is call’d forth against him, he will not be afraid of their Voice, nor abase himself for the Noise of them: So shall the Lord of Hosts come down that he may fight upon Mount Sion. Dacier.
Note XVII.
VERSE 371. The Speech of Sarpedon to Glaucus.]
In former Times Kings were look’d upon as the Generals of Armies, who to return the Honours that were done them, were oblig’d to expose themselves first in the Battel, and be an Example to their Soldiers. Upon this Sarpedon grounds his Discourse, which is full of Generosity and Nobleness. We are, says he, honour’d like Gods; and what can be more unjust, than not to behave our selves like Men? he ought to be superior in Virtue, who is superior in Dignity; What Strength is there, and what Greatness in that Thought? it includes Justice, Gratitude, and Magnanimity; Justice, in that he scorns to enjoy what he does not merit; Gratitude, because he would endeavour to recompense his Obligations to his Subjects; and Magnanimity, in that he despises Death, and thinks of nothing but Glory. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 387. Could all our Care, &c.]
There is not a more forcible Argument than this, to make Men contemn Dangers, and seek Glory by brave Actions. Immortality with eternal Youth, is certainly preferable to Glory purchas’d with the Loss of Life; but Glory is certainly better than an ignominious Life; which at last, tho’ perhaps late, must end. It is ordain’d that all Men shall die, nor can our escaping from Danger secure us Immortality; it can only give us a longer Continuance in Disgrace, and even that Continuance will be but short, tho’ the Infamy everlasting. This is incontestable, and whoever weighs his Actions in these Scales, can never hesitate in his Choice: But what is most worthy of Remark is, that Homer does not put this in the Mouth of an ordinary Person, but ascribes it to the Son of Jupiter. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XIX.
VERSE 444. Whose fatal Bow the strong Pandion bore. ]
It is remarkable that Teucer who is excellent for his Skill in Archery, does not carry his own Bow, but has it born after him by Pandion: I thought it not improper to take notice of this, by reason of its Unusualness. It may be suppos’d that Teucer had chang’d his Arms in this Fight, and comply’d with the Exigence of the Battel which was about the Wall: He might judge that some other Weapon might be more necessary upon this Occasion, and therefore committed his Bow to the Care of Pandion. Eustathius.
Note XX.
VERSE 454. A Rocky Fragment, &c.]
In this Book both Ajax and Hector are describ’d throwing Stones of a prodigious Size. But the Poet who loves to give the Preference to his Countrymen, relates the Action much to the Advantage of Ajax: Ajax by his natural Strength performs what Hector could not do without the Assistance of Jupiter. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 455. Not two strong Men. ]
The Difference which our Author makes between the Heroes of his Poem, and the Men of his Age, is so great, that some have made use of it as an Argument that Homer liv’d many Ages after the War of Troy: But this Argument does not seem to be of any Weight; for supposing Homer to have writ two hundred and fifty or two hundred and sixty Years after the Destruction of Troy, this Space is long enough to make such a Change as he speaks of; Peace, Luxury, or Effeminacy would do it in a much less Time. Dacier.
Note XXII.
VERSE 483. Swift to the Battlement the Victor flies. ]
From what Sarpedon here performs, we may gather that this Wall of the Greeks was not higher than a tall Man: From the great Depth and Breadth of it, as it is described just before, one might have concluded that it had been much higher: But it appears to be otherwise from this Passage; and consequently the Thickness of the Wall was answerable to the Wideness of the Ditch. Eustathius.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 511. As on the Confines of adjoining Ground. ]
This Simile, says Eustathius, is wonderfully proper; it has one Circumstance that is seldom to be found in Homer’s Allusions; it corresponds in every Point with the Subject it was intended to illustrate: The Measures of the two Nighbours represent the Spears of the Combatants: The Confines of the Fields, shews that they engag’d hand to hand; and the Wall which divides the Armies, gives us a lively Idea of the large Stones that were fix’d to determine the Bounds of adjoining Fields.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 521. As when two Scales, &c.]
This Comparison is excellent on account of its Justness; for there is nothing better represents an exact Equality than a Balance: But Homer was particularly exact, in having neither describ’d a Woman of Wealth and Condition, for such a one is never very exact, not valuing a small Inequality; nor a Slave, for such a one is ever regardless of a Master’s Interest: But he speaks of a poor Woman that gains her Livelihood by her Labour, who is at the same time just and honest; for she will neither defraud others, nor be defrauded her self. She therefore takes care that the Scales be exactly of the same Weight.
It was an ancient Tradition, (and is countenanced by the Author of Homer’s Life ascribed to Herodotus ) that the Poet drew this Comparison from his own Family; being himself the Son of a Woman who maintain’d her self by her own Industry: He therefore to extol her Honesty, (a Qualification very rare in Poverty) gives her a Place in his Poem. Eustathius.
Book XIII THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
NEptune, concern’d for the Loss of the Grecians, upon seeing the Fortification forc’d by Hector, (who had enter’d the Gate near the Station of the Ajaxes) assumes the Shape of Calchas, and inspires those Heroes to oppose him: Then in the Form of one of the Generals, encourages the other Greeks who had retir’d to their Vessels. The Ajaxes form their Troops in a close Phalanx, and put a stop to Hector and the Trojans. Several Deeds of Valour are perform’d; Meriones losing his Spear in the Encounter, repairs to seek another at the Tent of Idomeneus. This occasions a Conversation between those two Warriors, who return together to the Battel. Idomeneus signalizes his Courage above the rest; he kills Othryoneus, Asius, and Alcathous. Deiphobus and Aeneas march against him, and at length Idomeneus retires. Menelaus wounds Helenus, and kills Pisander. The Trojans are repuls’d in the Left Wing; Hector still keeps his Ground against the Ajaxes, till being gaul’d by the Locrian Slingers and Archers, Polydamas advises to call a Council of War: Hector approves his Advice, but goes first to rally the Trojans; upbraids Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again, and renews the Attack. The eight and twentieth Day still continues. The Scene is etween the Grecian Wall and the Sea-shore.
Index to The Argument
- [1-16] Jupiter looks away; Neptune sees his chance
- [17-66] The Sea God's wrathful journey to the fight
- [67-114] In Calchas's form, Neptune inspires the two Ajaxes
- [115-168] Neptune rallies the other Greek leaders
- [169-210] The Ajaxes form a phalanx and halt Hector
- [211-272] Combat at the wall; Meriones' spear breaks
- [273-383] Idomeneus and Meriones confer and arm for battle
- [384-454] The Cretan lords enter the fray on the left wing
- [455-508] Idomeneus slays Othryoneus and Asius
- [509-593] Idomeneus kills Alcathous; Aeneas is roused
- [594-663] The combat of gods' descendants; Idomeneus retires
- [664-752] Menelaus wounds Helenus the seer
- [753-826] Menelaus kills Pisander and rebukes Trojan impiety
- [827-844] The Trojans are repulsed on the left wing
- [845-904] Hector checked by the Locrian archers
- [905-938] Polydamas advises Hector to regroup
- [939-990] Hector rallies his captains and upbraids Paris
- [991-1061] Hector confronts Ajax and renews the attack
- [1-1061] Scene: Between the Greek wall and the sea
WHEN now the Thund’rer, on the Seabeat Coast,
Had fix’d great Hector and his conqu’ring Host;
He left them to the Fates, in bloody Fray,
To toil and struggle thro’ the well-fought Day.
Then turn’d to Thracia from the Field of Fight
Those Eyes, that shed insufferable Light,
To where the Mysians prove their martial Force,
And hardy Thracians tame the savage Horse;
And where the far-fam’d Hippemolgian strays,
Renown’d for Justice and for length of Days,
Thrice happy Race! that, innocent of Blood,
From Milk, innoxious, seek their simple Food:
Jove sees delighted, and avoids the Scene
Of guilty Troy, of Arms, and dying Men:
No Aid, he deems, to either Host is giv’n,
While his high Law suspends the Pow’rs of Heav’n.
Meantime the Monarch of the watry Main
Observ’d the Thund’rer, nor observ’d in vain.
In Samothracia, on a Mountain’s Brow,
Whose waving Woods o’erhung the Deeps below,
He sate; and round him cast his azure Eyes,
Where Ida’s misty Tops confus’dly rise;
Below, fair Ilion’s glitt’ring Spires were seen,
The crowded Ships, and sable Seas between.
There, from the crystal Chambers of the Main
Emerg’d, he sate; and mourn’d his Argives slain.
At Jove incens’d, with Grief and Fury stung,
Prone down the rocky Steep, he rush’d along;
Fierce as he past, the lofty Mountains nod,
The Forests shake! Earth trembled as he trod,
And felt the Footsteps of th’ immortal God.
From Realm to Realm three ample Strides he took,
And, at the fourth, the distant Aegae shook.
Far in the Bay his shining Palace stands,
Eternal Frame! not rais’d by mortal Hands:
This having reach’d, his brass-hoof’d Steeds he reins,
Fleet as the Winds, and deck’d with golden Manes.
Refulgent Arms his mighty Limbs infold,
Immortal Arms, of Adamant and Gold.
He mounts the Car, the golden Scourge applies;
He sits superior, and the Chariot flies.
His whirling Wheels the glassy Surface sweep;
Th’ enormous Monsters, rolling o’er the Deep,
Gambol around him, on the watry way;
And heavy Whales in aukward Measures play:
The Sea subsiding spreads a level Plain,
Exults, and owns the Monarch of the Main;
The parting Waves before his Coursers fly;
The wond’ring Waters leave his Axle dry.
Deep in the liquid Regions lies a Cave,
50Between where Tenedos the Surges lave,
And rocky Imbrus breaks the rolling Wave:
There the great Ruler of the azure Round
Stop’d his swift Chariot, and his Steeds unbound,
Fed with ambrosial Herbage from his Hand,
And link’d their Fetlocks with a golden Band,
Infrangible, immortal: There they stay:
The Father of the Floods pursues his way;
Where, like a Tempest, dark’ning Heav’n around,
Or fiery Deluge that devours the Ground,
Th’ impatient Trojans, in a gloomy Throng,
Embattel’d roll’d, as Hector rush’d along.
To the loud Tumult, and the barb’rous Cry,
The Heav’ns re-echo, and the Shores reply;
They vow Destruction to the Grecian Name,
And, in their Hopes, the Fleets already flame.
But Neptune, rising from the Seas profound,
The God whose Earthquakes rock the solid Ground,
Now wears a mortal Form; like Calchas seen,
Such his loud Voice, and such his manly Mien;
His Shouts incessant ev’ry Greek inspire,
But most th’ Ajaces, adding Fire to Fire.
’Tis yours, O Warriors, all our Hopes to raise;
Oh recollect your ancient Worth and Praise!
’Tis yours to save us, if you cease to fear;
Flight, more than shameful, is destructive here.
On other Works tho’ Troy with Fury fall,
And pour her Armies o’er our batter’d Wall;
There, Greece has strength: but this, this Part o’erthrown,
Her Strength were vain; I dread for you alone.
Here Hector rages like the Force of Fire,
Vaunts of his Gods, and calls high Jove his Sire.
If yet some heav’nly Pow’r your Breast excite,
Breathe in your Hearts, and string your Arms to Fight,
Greece yet may live, her threatned Fleet maintain,
And Hector’s Force, and Jove’s own Aid, be vain.
Then with his Sceptre that the Deep controuls,
He touch’d the Chiefs, and steel’d their manly Souls;
Strength, not their own, the Touch divine imparts,
Prompts their light limbs, and swells their daring hearts.
Then, as a Falcon from the rocky Height,
Her Quarry seen, impetuous at the Sight,
Forth-springing instant, darts her self from high,
Shoots on the Wing, and skims along the Sky:
Such, and so swift, the Pow’r of Ocean flew;
The wide Horizon shut him from their View.
Th’ inspiring God, Oileus’ active Son
Perceiv’d the first, and thus to Telamon.
Some God, my Friend, some God in human form
Fav’ring descends, and wills to stand the Storm.
100Not Calchas this, the venerable Seer;
Short as he turn’d, I saw the Pow’r appear:
I mark’d his parting, and the Steps he trod;
His own bright evidence reveals a God.
Ev’n now some Energy divine I share,
And seem to walk on Wings, and tread in Air.
With equal Ardour ( Telamon returns)
My Soul is kindled, and my Bosom burns;
New rising Spirits all the Man alarm,
Lift each impatient Limb, and brace my Arm;
This ready Arm, unthinking, shakes the Dart;
The Blood pours back, and fortifies my Heart:
Singly methinks, yon’ tow’ring Chief I meet,
And stretch the dreadful Hector at my Feet.
Full of the God that urg’d their burning Breast
The Heroes thus their mutual Warmth express’d.
Neptune meanwhile the routed Greeks inspir’d;
Who breathless, pale, with length of Labours tir’d,
Pant in the Ships; while Troy to Conquest calls,
And swarms victorious o’er their yielding Walls:
Trembling before th’ impending Storm they lie,
While Tears of Rage stand burning in their Eye.
Greece sunk they thought, and this their fatal Hour;
But breathe new Courage as they feel the Pow’r:
Teucer and Leitus first his Words excite;
Then stern Peneleus rises to the Fight;
Thoas, Deipyrus, in Arms renown’d,
And Merion next, th’ impulsive Fury found;
Last Nestor’s Son the same bold Ardour takes,
While thus the God the martial Fire awakes.
Oh lasting Infamy, oh dire Disgrace
To Chiefs of vig’rous Youth, and manly Race!
I trusted in the Gods and you, to see
Brave Greece victorious, and her Navy free:
Ah no—the glorious Combate you disclaim,
And one black Day clouds all her former Fame.
Heav’ns! what a prodigy these Eyes survey,
Unseen, unthought, till this amazing Day!
Fly we at length from Troy’s oft-conquer’d Bands,
And falls our Fleet by such inglorious Hands?
A Rout undisciplin’d, a straggling Train,
Not born to Glories of the dusty Plain;
Like frighted Fawns from Hill to Hill pursu’d,
A Prey to every Savage of the Wood;
Shall these, so late who trembled at your Name,
Invade your Camps, involve your Ships in Flame?
A Change so shameful, say what Cause has wrought?
The Soldiers Baseness, or the Gen’ral’s Fault?
Fools! will ye perish for your Leader’s Vice?
The Purchase Infamy, and Life the Price!
150’Tis not your Cause, Achilles’ injur’d Fame:
Another’s is the Crime, but yours the Shame.
Grant that our Chief offend thro’ Rage or Lust,
Must you be Cowards, if your King’s unjust?
Prevent this Evil, and your Country save:
Small Thought retrieves the Spirits of the Brave.
Think, and subdue! on Dastards dead to Fame
I waste no Anger, for they feel no Shame:
But you, the Pride, the Flow’r of all our Host,
My Heart weeps blood to see your Glory lost!
Nor deem this Day, this Battel, all you lose;
A Day more black, a Fate more vile, ensues.
Let each reflect, who prizes Fame or Breath,
On endless Infamy, on instant Death.
For lo! the fated Time, th’ appointed Shore;
Hark! the Gates burst, the brazen Barriers roar!
Impetuous Hector thunders at the Wall;
The Hour, the Spot, to conquer, or to fall.
These Words the Grecians fainting Hearts inspire,
And list’ning Armies catch the godlike Fire.
Fix’d at his Post was each bold Ajax found,
With well-rang’d Squadrons strongly circled round:
So close their Order, so dispos’d their Fight,
As Pallas’ self might view with fixt Delight;
Or had the God of War inclin’d his Eyes,
The God of War had own’d a just Surprize.
A chosen Phalanx, firm, resolv’d as Fate,
Descending Hector and his Battel wait;
An Iron Scene gleams dreadful o’er the Fields,
Armour in Armour lock’d, and Shields in Shields,
Spears lean on Spears, on Targets Targets throng,
Helms stuck to Helms, and Man drove Man along.
The floating Plumes unnumber’d wave above,
As when an Earthquake stirs the nodding Grove;
And levell’d at the Skies with pointing Rays,
Their brandish’d Lances at each Motion blaze.
Thus breathing Death, in terrible Array,
The close-compacted Legions urg’d their way:
Fierce they drove on, impatient to destroy;
Troy charg’d the first, and Hector first of Troy.
As from some Mountain’s craggy Forehead torn,
A Rock’s round Fragment flies, with Fury born,
(Which from the stubborn Stone a Torrent rends)
Precipitate the pond’rous Mass descends:
From Steep to Steep the rolling Ruin bounds;
At ev’ry Shock the crackling Wood resounds;
Still gath’ring Force, it smoaks; and, urg’d amain,
Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the Plain
There stops—So Hector: Their whole Force he prov’d:
Resistless when he rag’d, and when he stop’d, unmov’d.
200On him the War is bent, the Darts are shed,
And all their Faulchions wave around his Head.
Repuls’d he stands; nor from his Stand retires;
But with repeated Shouts his Army fires.
Trojans, be firm; this Arm shall make your way
Thro’ yon’ square Body, and that black Array:
Stand, and my Spear shall rout their scatt’ring Pow’r,
Strong as they seem, embattel’d like a Tow’r.
For He that Juno’s heav’nly Bosom warms,
The first of Gods, this Day inspires our Arms.
He said, and rouz’d the Soul in ev’ry Breast;
Urg’d with Desire of Fame, beyond the rest,
Forth march’d Deiphobus; but marching held
Before his wary Steps, his ample Shield.
Bold Merion aim’d a Stroke (nor aim’d it wide)
The glitt’ring Javelin pierc’d the tough Bull-hide:
But pierc’d not thro: Unfaithful to his Hand,
The Point broke short, and sparkled in the Sand.
The Trojan Warrior, touch’d with timely Fear,
On the rais’d Orb to distance bore the Spear:
The Greek retreating mourn’d his frustrate Blow,
And curs’d the treach’rous Lance that spar’d a Foe;
Then to the Ships with surly Speed he went,
To seek a surer Javelin in his Tent.
Meanwhile with rising Rage the Battel glows,
The Tumult thickens, and the Clamour grows.
By Teucer’s Arm the warlike Imbrius bleeds,
The Son of Mentor, rich in gen’rous Steeds.
E’re yet to Troy the Sons of Greece were led,
In fair Pedaeus’ verdant Pastures bred,
The Youth had dwelt; remote from War’s alarms,
And bless’d in bright Medesicaste’s Arms:
(This Nymph, the Fruit of Priam’s ravish’d Joy,
Ally’d the Warrior to the House of Troy. )
To Troy, when Glory call’d his Arms, he came,
And match’d the bravest of her Chiefs in Fame:
With Priam’s Sons, a Guardian of the Throne,
He liv’d, belov’d and honour’d as his own.
Him Teucer pierc’d between the Throat and Ear;
He groans beneath the Telamonian Spear.
As from some far-seen Mountain’s airy Crown,
Subdu’d by Steel, a tall Ash tumbles down,
And soils its verdant Tresses on the Ground:
So falls the Youth; his Arms the Fall resound.
Then Teucer rushing to despoil the dead,
From Hector’s Hand a shining Javelin fled:
He saw, and shun’d the Death; the forceful Dart
Sung on, and pierc’d Amphimachus his Heart,
Cteatus’ Son, of Neptune’s boasted Line;
Vain was his Courage, and his Race divine!
250Prostrate he falls; his clanging Arms resound,
And his broad Buckler thunders on the Ground.
To seize his beamy Helm the Victor flies,
And just had fastned on the dazling Prize,
When Ajax’ manly Arm a Javelin flung;
Full on the Shield’s round Boss the Weapon rung;
He felt the Shock, nor more was doom’d to feel,
Secure in Mail, and sheath’d in shining Steel.
Repuls’d he yields; the Victor Greeks obtain
The Spoils contested, and bear off the slain.
Between the Leaders of th’ Athenian Line,
( Stichius the brave, Menestheus the divine,)
Deplor’d Amphimachus, sad Object! lies;
Imbrius remains the fierce Ajaces’ Prize.
As two grim Lyons bear across the Lawn
Snatch’d from devouring Hounds, a slaughter’d Fawn,
In their fell Jaws high-lifted thro’ the Wood,
And sprinkling all the Shrubs with dropping Blood;
So these the Chief: Great Ajax from the dead
Strips his bright Arms, Oileus lops his Head:
Toss’d like a Ball, and whirl’d in Air away,
At Hector’s Feet the goary Visage lay.
The God of Ocean, fir’d with stern Disdain,
And pierc’d with Sorrow for his Grandson slain,
Inspires the Grecian Hearts, confirms their Hands.
And breathes Destruction to the Trojan Bands,
Swift as a Whirlwind rushing to the Fleet,
He finds the Lance-fam’d Idomen of Crete;
His pensive Brow the gen’rous Care exprest
With which a wounded Soldier touch’d his Breast,
Whom in the Chance of War a Javelin tore,
And his sad Comrades from the Battel bore;
Him to the Surgeons of the Camp he sent;
That Office paid, he issu’d from his Tent,
Fierce for the Fight: To him the God begun,
In Thoas’ Voice, Andraemon’s valiant Son,
Who rul’d where Calydon’s white Rocks arise,
And Pleuron’s chalky Cliffs emblaze the Skies.
Where’s now th’imperious Vaunt, the daring Boast
Of Greece victorious, and proud Ilion lost?
To whom the King. On Greece no blame be thrown,
Arms are her Trade, and War is all her own.
Her hardy Heroes from the well-fought Plains
Nor Fear with-holds, nor shameful Sloth detains.
’Tis Heav’n, alas! and Jove’s all-pow’rful Doom,
That far, far distant from our native Home
Wills us to fall, inglorious! Oh my Friend!
Once foremost in the Fight, still prone to lend
Or Arms, or Counsels; now perform thy best,
And what thou canst not singly, urge the rest.
300Thus he; and thus the God, whose Force can make
The solid Globe’s eternal Basis shake.
Ah! never may he see his native Land,
But feed the Vulturs on this hateful Strand,
Who seeks ignobly in his Ships to stay,
Nor dares to combate on this signal Day!
For this, behold! in horrid Arms I shine,
And urge thy Soul to rival Acts with mine:
Together let us battel on the Plain;
Two, not the worst; nor ev’n this Succour vain.
Not vain the weakest, if their Force unite;
But ours, the bravest have confess’d in Fight.
This said, he rushes where the Combate burns;
Swift to his Tent the Cretan King returns.
From thence, two Javelins glitt’ring in his Hand,
And clad in Arms that lighten’d all the Strand,
Fierce on the Foe th’ impetuous Hero drove;
Like Light’ning bursting from the Arm of Jove,
Which to pale Man the Wrath of Heav’n declares,
Or terrifies th’ offending World with Wars:
In streamy Sparkles, kindling all the Skies,
From Pole to Pole the Trail of Glory flies.
Thus his bright Armour o’er the dazled Throng
Gleam’d dreadful, as the Monarch flash’d along.
Him, near his Tent, Meriones attends;
Whom thus he questions: Ever best of Friends!
O say, in ev’ry Art of Battel skill’d,
What holds thy Courage from so brave a Field?
On some important Message art thou bound,
Or bleeds my Friend by some unhappy Wound?
Inglorious here, my Soul abhors to stay,
And glows with Prospects of th’approaching Day.
O Prince! ( Meriones replies) whose Care
Leads forth th’ embattel’d Sons of Crete to War;
This speaks my Grief; this headless Lance I wield;
The rest lies rooted in a Trojan Shield.
To whom the Cretan: Enter, and receive
The wanted Weapons; those my Tent can give.
Spears I have store, (and Trojan Lances all)
That shed a Lustre round th’ illumin’d Wall.
Tho’ I, disdainful of the distant War,
Nor trust the Dart, or aim th’ uncertain Spear,
Yet hand to hand I fight, and spoil the slain;
And thence these Trophies and these Arms I gain.
Enter, and see on heaps the Helmets roll’d,
And high-hung spears, and shields that flame with Gold.
Nor vain (said Merion ) are our martial Toils;
We too can boast of no ignoble Spoils.
But those my Ship contains, whence distant far,
I fight conspicuous in the Van of War.
350What need I more? If any Greek there be
Who knows not Merion, I appeal to thee.
To this, Idomeneus. The Fields of Fight
Have prov’d thy Valour and unconquer’d Might;
And were some Ambush for the Foes design’d,
Ev’n there, thy Courage would not lag behind.
In that sharp Service, singled from the rest,
The Fear of each, or Valour, stands confest.
No Force, no Firmness, the pale Coward shows;
He shifts his Place, his Colour comes and goes;
A dropping Sweat creeps cold on ev’ry Part;
Against his Bosom beats his quiv’ring Heart;
Terror and Death in his wild Eye-balls stare;
With chatt’ring Teeth he stands, and stiff’ning Hair,
And looks a bloodless Image of Despair!
Not so the Brave—still dauntless, still the same,
Unchang’d his Colour, and unmov’d his Frame;
Compos’d his Thought, determin’d is his Eye,
And fix’d his Soul, to conquer or to die:
If ought disturb the Tenour of his Breast,
’Tis but the Wish to strike before the rest.
In such Assays, thy blameless Worth is known,
And ev’ry Art of dang’rous War thy own.
By chance of Fight whatever Wounds you bore,
Those Wounds were glorious all, and all before;
Such as may teach, ’twas still thy brave Delight
T’ oppose thy Bosom where the foremost fight.
But why, like Infants, cold to Honour’s Charms,
Stand we to talk, when Glory calls to Arms?
Go—from my conquer’d Spears, the choicest take,
And to their Owners send them nobly back.
Swift as the Word bold Merion snatch’d a Spear,
And breathing Slaughter, follow’d to the War.
So Mars Armipotent invades the Plain,
(The wide Destroyer of the Race of Man)
Terror, his best lov’d Son, attends his Course,
Arm’d with stern Boldness, and enormous Force;
The Pride of haughty Warriors to confound,
And lay the Strength of Tyrants on the Ground:
From Thrace they fly, call’d to the dire Alarms
Of warring Phlegyans, and Ephyrian Arms;
Invok’d by both, relentless they dispose
To these, glad Conquest, murd’rous Rout to those.
So march’d the Leaders of the Cretan Train,
And their bright Arms shot Horror o’er the Plain.
Then first spake Merion: Shall we join the Right,
Or combate in the Centre of the Fight?
Or to the Left our wanted Succour lend?
Hazard and Fame all Parts alike attend.
Not in the Centre, ( Idomen reply’d)
400Our ablest Chieftains the main Battel guide;
Each godlike Ajax makes that Post his Care,
And gallant Teucer deals Destruction there:
Skill’d, or with Shafts to gall the distant Field,
Or bear close Battel on the sounding Shield.
These can the Rage of haughty Hector tame;
Safe in their Arms, the Navy fears no Flame;
Till Jove himself descends, his Bolts to shed,
And hurl the blazing Ruin at our Head.
Great must he be, of more than human Birth,
Nor feed like Mortals on the Fruits of Earth,
Him neither Rocks can crush, nor Steel can wound,
Whom Ajax fells not on th’ ensanguin’d Ground.
In standing Fight he mates Achilles’ Force,
Excell’d alone in Swiftness in the Course.
Then to the Left our ready Arms apply,
And live with Glory, or with Glory die.
He said; and Merion to th’ appointed Place,
Fierce as the God of Battels, urg’d his Pace.
Soon as the Foe the shining Chiefs beheld
Rush like a fiery Torrent o’er the Field,
Their Force embody’d, in a Tyde they pour;
The rising Combate sounds along the Shore.
As warring Winds, in Sirius’ sultry Reign,
From diff’rent Quarters sweep the sandy Plain;
On ev’ry side the dusty Whirlwinds rise,
And the dry Fields are lifted to the Skies:
Thus by Despair, Hope, Rage, together driv’n,
Met the black Hosts, and meeting, darken’d Heav’n.
All dreadful glar’d the Iron Face of War,
Bristled with upright Spears, that flash’d afar;
Dire was the Gleam, of Breastplates, Helms and Shields,
And polish’d Arms emblaz’d the flaming Fields:
Tremendous Scene, that gen’ral Horror gave,
But touch’d with Joy the Bosoms of the Brave.
Saturn’s great Sons in fierce Contention vy’d,
And Crowds of Heroes in their Anger dy’d.
The Sire of Earth and Heav’n, by Thetis won
To crown with Glory Peleus’ godlike Son,
Will’d not Destruction to the Grecian Pow’rs,
But spar’d a while the destin’d Trojan Tow’rs:
While Neptune rising from his azure Main,
Warr’d on the King of Heav’n with stern Disdain,
And breath’d Revenge, and fir’d the Grecian Train.
Gods of one Source, of one ethereal Race,
Alike divine, and Heav’n their native Place;
But Jove the greater, First-born of the Skies,
And more than Men, or Gods, supremely wise.
For this, of Jove’s superior Might afraid,
Neptune in human Form conceal’d his Aid.
450These Pow’rs inclose the Greek and Trojan Train
In War and Discord’s adamantine Chain;
Indissolubly strong, the fatal Tye
Is stretch’d on both, and Heaps on Heaps they dye.
Dreadful in Arms, and grown in Combats grey,
The bold Idomeneus controuls the Day.
First by his Hand Othryoneus was slain,
Swell’d with false Hopes, with mad Ambition vain!
Call’d by the Voice of War to martial Fame,
From high Cabesus’ distant Walls he came;
Cassandra’s Love he sought with Boasts of Pow’r,
And promis’d Conquest was the proffer’d Dow’r.
The King consented, by his Vaunts abus’d;
The King consented, but the Fates refus’d.
Proud of himself, and of th’ imagin’d Bride,
The Field he measur’d with a larger Stride.
Him, as he stalk’d, the Cretan Javelin found;
Vain was his Breastplate to repel the Wound:
His Dream of Glory lost, he plung’d to Hell;
The Plains resounded as the Boaster fell.
The great Idomeneus bestrides the dead:
And thus (he cries) behold thy Promise sped!
Such is the Help thy Arms to Ilion bring,
And such the Contract of the Phrygian King!
Our Offers now, illustrious Prince! receive;
For such an Aid what will not Argos give?
To conquer Troy, with ours thy Forces join,
And count Atrides’ fairest Daughter thine.
Meantime, on farther Methods to advise,
Come, follow to the Fleet thy new Allies;
There hear what Greece has on her Part to say.
He spoke, and dragg’d the goary Corse away.
This Asius view’d, unable to contain,
Before his Chariot warring on the Plain;
(His valu’d Coursers, to his Squire consign’d,
Impatient panted on his Neck behind)
To Vengeance rising with a sudden Spring,
He hop’d the Conquest of the Cretan King.
The wary Cretan, as his Foe drew near,
Full on his Throat discharg’d the forceful Spear:
Beneath the Chin the Point was seen to glide,
And glitter’d, extant at the farther side.
As when the Mountain Oak, or Poplar tall,
Or Pine, fit Mast for some great Admiral,
Groans to the oft-heav’d Axe, with many a Wound,
Then spreads a length of Ruin o’er the Ground.
So sunk proud Asius in that deathful Day,
And stretch’d before his much-lov’d Coursers lay.
He grinds the Dust distain’d with streaming Gore,
And, fierce in Death, lies foaming on the Shore.
500Depriv’d of Motion, stiff with stupid Fear,
Stands all aghast his trembling Charoteer,
Nor shuns the Foe, nor turns the Steeds away,
But falls transfix’d, an unresisting Prey:
Pierc’d by Antilochus, he pants beneath
The stately Car, and labours out his Breath.
Thus Asius’ Steeds (their mighty Master gone)
Remain the Prize of Nestor’s youthful Son.
Stabb’d at the Sight, Deiphobus drew nigh,
And made, with force, the vengeful Weapon fly:
The Cretan saw; and stooping, caus’d to glance
From his slope Shield, the disappointed Lance.
Beneath the spacious Targe (a blazing Round,
Thick with Bull-hides, with brazen Orbits bound,
On his rais’d Arm by two strong Braces stay’d)
He lay collected, in defensive Shade.
O’er his safe Head the Javelin idly sung,
And on the tincling Verge more faintly rung.
Ev’n then, the Spear the vig’rous Arm confest,
And pierc’d, obliquely, King Hypsenor’s Breast:
Warm’d in his Liver, to the Ground it bore
The Chief, his People’s Guardian now no more!
Not unattended (the proud Trojan cries)
Nor unreveng’d, lamented Asius lies:
For thee, tho’ Hell’s black Portals stand display’d,
This Mate shall joy thy melancholy Shade.
Heart-piercing Anguish, at this haughty Boast,
Touch’d ev’ry Greek, but Nestor’s Son the most.
Griev’d as he was, his pious Arms attend
And his broad Buckler shields his slaughter’d Friend;
Till sad Mecistheus and Alastor bore
His honour’d Body to the Tented Shore.
Nor yet from Fight Idomeneus withdraws;
Resolv’d to perish in his Country’s Cause,
Or find some Foe whom Heav’n and he shall doom
To wail his Fate in Death’s eternal Gloom.
He sees Alcathous in the Front aspire:
Great Aesyetes was the Hero’s Sire;
His Spouse Hippodamè, divinely fair,
Anchises’ eldest Hope, and darling Care;
Who charm’d her Parent’s and her Husband’s Heart,
With Beauty, Sense, and ev’ry Work of Art:
He once, of Ilion’s Youth, the loveliest Boy,
The fairest she, of all the Fair of Troy.
By Neptune now the hapless Hero dies,
Who covers with a Cloud those beauteous Eyes,
And fetters ev’ry Limb: yet bent to meet
His Fate, he stands; nor shuns the Lance of Crete.
Fixt as some Column, or deep-rooted Oak,
(While the Winds sleep) his Breast receiv’d the Stroke.
550Before the pond’rous Stroke his Corselet yields,
Long us’d to ward the Death in fighting Fields:
The riven Armour sends a jarring Sound:
His lab’ring Heart, heaves, with so strong a bound,
The long Lance shakes, and vibrates in the Wound:
Fast-flowing from its Source, as prone he lay,
Life’s purple Tyde, impetuous, gush’d away.
Then Idomen, insulting o’er the slain;
Behold, Deiphobus! nor vaunt in vain.
See! on one Greek three Trojan Ghosts attend,
This, my third Victim, to the Shades I send.
Approaching now, thy boasted Might approve,
And try the Prowess of the Seed of Jove.
From Jove, enamour’d on a mortal Dame,
Great Minos, Guardian of his Country, came:
Deucalion, blameless Prince! was Minos’ Heir;
His First-born I, the third from Jupiter:
O’er spacious Crete, and her bold Sons I reign,
And thence my Ships transport me thro’ the Main;
Lord of a Host, o’er all my Host I shine,
A Scourge to thee, thy Father, and thy Line.
The Trojan heard; uncertain, or to meet
Alone, with vent’rous Arms, the King of Crete;
Or seek auxiliar Force; at length decreed
To call some Hero to partake the Deed.
Forthwith Aeneas rises to his Thought;
For him, in Troy’s remotest Lines, he sought,
Where he, incens’d at partial Priam, stands,
And sees superior Posts in meaner Hands.
To him, ambitious of so great an Aid,
The bold Deïphobus approach’d, and said.
Now, Trojan Prince, employ thy pious Arms,
If e’er thy Bosom felt fair Honour’s Charms.
Alcathous dies, thy Brother and thy Friend!
Come, and the Warrior’s lov’d Remains defend.
Beneath his Cares thy early Youth was train’d,
One Table fed you, and one Roof contain’d.
This Deed to fierce Idomeneus we owe;
Haste, and revenge it on th’ insulting Foe.
Aeneas heard, and for a Space resign’d
To tender Pity all his manly Mind;
Then rising in his Rage, he burns to fight:
The Greek awaits him, with collected Might.
As the fell Boar on some rough Mountain’s Head,
Arm’d with wild Terrors, and to Slaughter bred,
When the loud Rusticks rise, and shout from far,
Attends the Tumult, and expects the War;
O’er his bent Back the bristly Horrors rise,
Fires stream in Light’ning from his sanguin Eyes,
His foaming Tusks both Dogs and Men engage,
600But most his Hunters rouze his mighty Rage.
So stood Idomeneus, his Javelin shook,
And met the Trojan with a low’ring Look.
Antilochus, Deipyrus were near,
The youthful Offspring of the God of War,
Merion, and Aphareus, in Field renown’d:
To these the Warrior sent his Voice around.
Fellows in Arms! your timely Aid unite;
Lo, great Aeneas rushes to the Fight:
Sprung from a God, and more than Mortal bold;
He fresh in Youth, and I in Arms grown old.
Else should this Hand, this Hour, decide the Strife,
The great Dispute, of Glory, or of Life.
He spoke, and all as with one Soul obey’d;
Their lifted Bucklers cast a dreadful Shade
Around the Chief. Aeneas too demands
Th’ assisting Forces of his native Bands:
Paris, Deïphobus, Agenor join;
(Co-aids and Captains of the Trojan Line.)
In order follow all th’ embody’d Train;
Like Ida’s Flocks proceeding o’er the Plain;
Before his fleecy Care, erect and bold,
Stalks the proud Ram, the Father of the Fold:
With Joy the Swain surveys them, as he leads
To the cool Fountains, thro’ the well-known Meads.
So joys Aeneas, as his native Band
Moves on in Rank, and stretches o’er the Land.
Round dead Alcathous now the Battel rose;
On ev’ry side the steely Circle grows;
Now batter’d Breastplates and hack’d Helmets ring,
And o’er their Heads unheeded Javelins sing.
Above the rest, two tow’ring Chiefs appear,
There great Idomeneus, Aeneas here.
Like Gods of War, dispensing Fate, they stood,
And burn’d to drench the Ground with mutual Blood.
The Trojan Weapon whizz’d along in Air;
The Cretan saw, and shun’d the brazen Spear:
Sent from an Arm so strong, the missive Wood
Stuck deep in Earth, and quiver’d where it stood.
But Oenomas receiv’d the Cretan’s stroke,
The forceful Spear his hollow Corselet broke,
It ripp’d his Belly with a ghastly Wound,
And roll’d the smoaking Entrails to the Ground.
Stretch’d on the Plain, he sobs away his Breath,
And furious, grasps the bloody Dust in Death.
The Victor from his Breast the Weapon tears;
His Spoils he could not, for the Show’r of Spears.
Tho’ now unfit an active War to wage,
Heavy with cumb’rous Arms, stiff with cold Age,
His listless Limbs unable for the Course;
650In standing Fight he yet maintains his Force:
Till faint with Labour, and by Foes repell’d,
His tir’d, slow Steps, he drags from off the Field.
Deiphobus beheld him as he past,
And, fir’d with Hate, a parting Javelin cast:
The Javelin err’d, but held its Course along,
And pierc’d Ascalaphus, the brave and young:
The Son of Mars fell gasping on the Ground,
And gnash’d the Dust all bloody with his Wound.
Nor knew the furious Father of his Fall;
High-thron’d amidst the great Olympian Hall,
On golden Clouds th’ immortal Synod sate;
Detain’d from bloody War by Jove and Fate.
Now, where in Dust the breathless Hero lay,
For slain Ascalaphus commenc’d the Fray.
Deiphobus to seize his Helmet flies,
And from his Temples rends the glitt’ring Prize;
Valiant as Mars, Meriones drew near,
And on his loaded Arm discharg’d his Spear:
He drops the Weight, disabled with the Pain,
The hollow Helmet rings against the Plain.
Swift as a Vultur leaping on his Prey,
From his torn Arm the Grecian rent away
The reeking Javelin, and rejoin’d his Friends.
His wounded Brother good Polites tends;
Around his Waste his pious Arms he threw,
And from the Rage of Combate gently drew:
Him his swift Coursers, on his splendid Car
Rapt from the less’ning Thunder of the War;
To Troy they drove him, groaning from the Shore,
And sprinkling, as he past, the Sands with Gore.
Meanwhile fresh slaughter bathes the sanguin ground,
Heaps fall on Heaps, and Heav’n and Earth resound.
Bold Aphareus by great Aeneas bled;
As tow’rd the Chief he turn’d his daring Head,
He pierc’d his Throat; the bending Head deprest
Beneath his Helmet, nods upon his Breast;
His Shield revers’d o’er the fall’n Warror lies;
And everlasting Slumber seals his Eyes.
Antilochus, as Thoon turn’d him round,
Transpierc’d his Back with a dishonest Wound:
The hollow Vein that to the Neck extends
Along the Chine, his eager Javelin rends:
Supine he falls, and to his social Train
Spreads his imploring Arms, but spreads in vain.
Th’ exulting Victor leaping where he lay,
From his broad Shoulders tore the Spoils away;
His Time observ’d; for clos’d by Foes around,
On all sides thick, the Peals of Arms resound.
His Shield emboss’d the ringing Storm sustains,
700But he impervious and untouch’d remains.
(Great Neptune’s Care preserv’d from hostile Rage
This Youth, the Joy of Nestor’s glorious Age)
In Arms intrepid, with the first he fought,
Fac’d ev’ry Foe, and ev’ry Danger sought;
His winged Lance, resistless as the Wind,
Obeys each Motion of the Master’s Mind,
Restless it flies, impatient to be free,
And meditates the distant Enemy.
The Son of Asius, Adamas, drew near,
And struck his Target with the brazen Spear,
Fierce in his Front: but Neptune wards the Blow,
And blunts the Javelin of th’ eluded Foe.
In the broad Buckler half the Weapon stood;
Splinter’d on Earth flew half the broken Wood.
Disarm’d, he mingled in the Trojan Crew;
But Merion’s Spear o’ertook him as he flew,
Deep in the Belly’s Rim an Entrance found,
Where sharp the Pang, and mortal is the Wound.
Bending he fell, and doubled to the Ground
Lay panting. Thus an Oxe, in Fetters ty’d,
While Death’s strong Pangs distend his lab’ring Side,
His Bulk enormous on the Field displays;
His heaving Heart beats thick, as ebbing Life decays.
The Spear, the Conqu’ror from his Body drew,
And Death’s dim Shadows swam before his View.
Next brave Deipyrus in Dust was lay’d;
King Helenus wav’d high the Thracian Blade,
And smote his Temples, with an Arm so strong
The Helm fell off, and roll’d amid the Throng:
There, for some luckier Greek it rests a Prize,
For dark in Death the godlike Owner lies!
With raging Grief great Menelaus burns,
And fraught with Vengeance, to the Victor turns;
That shook the pond’rous Lance, in Act to throw,
And this stood adverse with the bended Bow:
Full on his Breast the Trojan Arrow fell,
But harmless bounded from the plated Steel.
As on some ample Barn’s well-harden’d Floor,
(The Winds collected at each open Door)
While the broad Fan with Force is whirl’d around,
Lightleaps the golden grain, resulting from the ground:
So from the Steel that guards Atrides’ Heart,
Repell’d to distance flies the bounding Dart.
Atrides, watchful of th’ unwary Foe,
Pierc’d with his Lance the Hand that grasp’d the Bow,
And nail’d it to the Eugh: The wounded Hand
Trail’d the long Lance that mark’d with Blood the Sand.
But good Agenor gently from the Wound
The Spear sollicites, and the Bandage bound;
750A Slings soft Wool, snatch’d from a Soldier’s side,
At once the Tent and Ligature supply’d.
Behold! Pisander, urg’d by Fate’s Decree,
Springs thro’ the Ranks to fall, and fall by thee,
Great Menelaus! to enhance thy Fame,
High-tow’ring in the Front, the Warrior came.
First the sharp Lance was by Atrides thrown;
The Lance far distant by the Winds was blown.
Nor pierc’d Pisander thro’ Atrides’ Shield;
Pisander’s Spear fell shiver’d on the Field.
Not so discourag’d, to the Future blind,
Vain Dreams of Conquest swell his haughty Mind;
Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan Lord
Like Light’ning brandish’d his far-beaming Sword.
His left Arm high oppos’d the shining Shield;
His right, beneath, the cover’d Pole-Axe held;
(An Olive’s cloudy Grain the Handle made,
Distinct with Studs; and brazen was the Blade)
This on the Helm discharg’d a noble Blow;
The Plume dropp’d nodding to the Plain below,
Shorn from the Crest. Atrides wav’d his Steel:
Deep thro’ his Front the weighty Faulchion fell.
The crashing Bones before its Force gave way;
In Dust and Blood the groaning Hero lay;
Forc’d from their ghastly Orbs, and spouting Gore,
The clotted Eye-balls tumble on the Shore.
The fierce Atrides spurn’d him as he bled,
Tore off his Arms, and loud-exulting said.
Thus, Trojans, thus, at length be taught to fear;
O Race perfidious, who delight in War!
Already noble Deeds ye have perform’d,
A Princess rap’d transcends a Navy storm’d:
In such bold Feats your impious Might approve,
Without th’Assistance, or the Fear of Jove.
The violated Rites, the ravish’d Dame,
Our Heroes slaughter’d, and our Ships on flame,
Crimes heap’d on Crimes, shall bend your Glory down,
And whelm in Ruins yon’ flagitious Town.
O thou, great Father! Lord of Earth and Skies,
Above the Thought of Man, supremely wise!
If from thy Hand the Fates of Mortals flow,
From whence this favour to an impious Foe?
A godless Crew, abandon’d and unjust,
Still breathing Rapine, Violence, and Lust!
The best of Things beyond their Measure, cloy;
Sleeps balmy Blessing, Love’s endearing Joy;
The Feast, the Dance; whate’er Mankind desire,
Ev’n the sweet Charms of sacred Numbers tire.
But Troy for ever reaps a dire Delight
In Thirst of Slaughter, and in Lust of Fight.
800This said, he seiz’d (while yet the Carcass heav’d)
The bloody Armour, which his Train receiv’d:
Then sudden mix’d among the warring Crew,
And the bold Son of Pylaemenes slew.
Harpalion had thro’ Asia travell’d far,
Following his martial Father to the War;
Thro’ filial Love he left his native Shore,
Never, ah never, to behold it more!
His unsuccessful Spear he chanc’d to fling
Against the Target of the Spartan King;
Thus of his Lance disarm’d, from Death he flies,
And turns around his apprehensive Eyes.
Him, thro’ the Hip transpiercing as he fled,
The Shaft of Merion mingled with the dead.
Beneath the Bone the glancing Point descends,
And driving down, the swelling Bladder rends:
Sunk in his sad Companion’s Arms he lay,
And in short Pantings sobb’d his Soul away;
(Like some vile Worm extended on the Ground)
While Life’s red Torrent gush’d from out the Wound.
Him on his Car the Paphlagonian Train
In slow Procession bore from off the Plain.
The pensive Father, Father now no more!
Attends the mournful Pomp along the Shore,
And unavailing Tears profusely shed,
And unreveng’d, deplor’d his Offspring dead.
Paris from far the moving Sight beheld,
With Pity soften’d, and with Fury swell’d:
His honour’d Host, a Youth of matchless Grace,
And lov’d of all the Paphlagonian Race!
With his full Strength he bent his angry Bow,
And wing’d the feather’d Vengeance at the Foe.
A Chief there was, the brave Euchenor nam’d,
For Riches much, and more for Virtue fam’d,
Who held his Seat in Corinth’s stately Town;
Polydus’ Son, a Seer of old Renown.
Oft’ had the Father told his early Doom,
By Arms abroad, or slow Disease at home:
He climb’d his Vessel, prodigal of Breath,
And chose the certain, glorious Path to Death.
Beneath his Ear the pointed Arrow went;
The Soul came issuing at the narrow Vent:
His Limbs, unnerv’d, drop useless on the Ground,
And everlasting Darkness shades him round.
Nor knew great Hector how his Legions yield,
(Wrapt in the Cloud and Tumult of the Field)
Wide on the Left the Force of Greece commands,
And Conquest hovers o’er th’ Achaian Bands:
With such a Tyde superior Virtue sway’d,
And he that shakes the solid Earth, gave Aid.
850But in the Centre Hector fix’d remain’d,
Where first the Gates were forc’d, and Bulwarks gain’d;
There, on the Margin of the hoary Deep,
(Their Naval Station where th’ Ajaces keep,
And where low Walls confine the beating Tydes
Whose humble Barrier scarce the Foes divides,
Where late in Fight, both Foot and Horse engag’d,
And all the Thunder of the Battel rag’d)
There join’d, the whole Boeotian Strength remains,
The proud Ionians with their sweeping Trains,
Locrians and Pthians, and th’ Epaean Force;
But join’d, repel not Hector’s fiery Course.
The Flow’r of Athens, Stichius, Phidas led,
Bias, and great Menestheus at their Head.
Meges the strong th’ Epeian Bands controul’d,
And Dracius prudent, and Amphion bold;
The Pthians Medon, fam’d for martial Might,
And brave Podarces, active in the Fight.
This drew from Phylacus his noble Line;
Iphyclus’ Son: and that (Oileus) thine:
(Young Ajax Brother, by a stol’n Embrace;
He dwelt far distant from his native Place,
By his fierce Stepdame from his Father’s Reign
Expell’d and exil’d, for her Brother slain.)
These rule the Pthians, and their Arms employ
Mixt with Boeotians, on the Shores of Troy.
Now side by side, with like unweary’d Care,
Each Ajax labour’d thro’ the Field of War.
So when two lordly Bulls, with equal Toil,
Force the bright Plowshare thro’ the fallow Soil,
Join’d to one Yoke, the stubborn Earth they tear,
And trace large Furrows with the shining Share;
O’er their huge Limbs the Foam descends in Snow,
And Streams of Sweat down their sow’r Foreheads flow.
A Train of Heroes follow’d thro’ the Field,
Who bore by turns great Ajax’ sev’nfold Shield;
Whene’er he breath’d, remissive of his Might,
Tir’d with th’ incessant Slaughters of the Fight.
His brave Associate had no following Band,
His Troops unpractis’d in the Fights of Stand:
For not the Spear the Locrian Squadrons wield,
Nor bear the Helm, nor lift the moony Shield;
But skill’d from far the flying Shaft to wing,
Or whirl the sounding Pebble from the Sling,
Dext’rous with these they aim a certain Wound,
Or fell the distant Warrior to the Ground.
Thus in the Van, the Telamonian Train
Throng’d in bright Arms, a pressing Fight maintain;
Far in the Rear the Locrian Archers lie,
Thick Stones and Arrows intercept the Sky,
900The mingled Tempest on the Foes they pour;
Troy’s scatt’ring Orders open to the Show’r.
Now had the Greeks eternal Fame acquir’d,
And the gall’d Ilians to their Walls retir’d;
But sage Polydamas, discreetly brave,
Address’d great Hector, and this Counsel gave.
Tho’ great in all, thou seem’st averse to lend
Impartial Audience to a faithful Friend:
To Gods and Men thy matchless Worth is known,
And ev’ry Art of glorious War thy own;
But in cool Thought and Counsel to excel,
How widely differs this from warring well?
Content with what the bounteous Gods have giv’n,
Seek not alone t’engross the Gifts of Heav’n.
To some the Pow’rs of bloody War belong,
To some, sweet Music, and the Charm of Song;
To few, and wond’rous few, has Jove assign’d
A wise, extensive, all-consid’ring Mind;
Their Guardians these, the Nations round confess,
And Towns and Empires for their Safety bless.
If Heav’n have lodg’d this Virtue in my Breast,
Attend, O Hector, what I judge the best.
See, as thou mov’st, on Dangers Dangers spread,
And Wars whole Fury burns around thy Head.
Behold! distress’d within yon’ hostile Wall,
How many Trojans yield, disperse, or fall?
What Troops, out-number’d, scarce the War maintain?
And what brave Heroes at the Ships lie slain?
Here cease thy Fury; and the Chiefs and Kings
Convok’d to Council, weigh the Sum of things.
Whether (the Gods succeeding our Desires)
To yon’ tall Ships to bear the Trojan Fires;
Or quit the Fleet, and pass unhurt away,
Contented with the Conquest of the Day.
I fear, I fear, lest Greece (not yet undone)
Pay the large Debt of last revolving Sun;
Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains
On yonder Decks, and yet o’erlooks the Plains!
The Counsel pleas’d; and Hector, with a Bound,
Leap’d from his Chariot on the trembling Ground;
Swift as he leap’d, his clanging Arms resound.
To guard this Post (he cry’d) thy Art employ,
And here detain the scatter’d Youth of Troy:
Where yonder Heroes faint, I bend my way,
And hasten back to end the doubtful Day.
This said; the tow’ring Chief, prepar’d to go,
Shakes his white Plumes that to the Breezes flow,
And seems a moving Mountain topt with Snow.
Thro’ all his Host, inspiring Force, he flies,
And bids anew the martial Thunder rise.
950To Panthus’ Son, at Hector’s high Command,
Haste the bold Leaders of the Trojan Band:
But round the Battlements, and round the Plain,
For many a Chief he look’d, but look’d in vain;
Deiphobus, nor Helenus the Seer,
Nor Asius’ Son, nor Asius’ self appear.
For these were pierc’d with many a ghastly Wound,
Some cold in Death, some groaning on the Ground,
Some low in Dust (a mournful Object) lay,
High on the Wall some breath’d their Souls away.
Far on the Left amid the Throng he found
(Cheering the Troops, and dealing Deaths around)
The graceful Paris; whom, with Fury mov’d,
Opprobrious, thus, th’ impatient Chief reprov’d.
Ill-fated Paris! Slave to Womankind,
As smooth of Face as fraudulent of Mind!
Where is Deiphobus, where Asius gone?
The godlike Father, and th’ intrepid Son?
The Force of Helenus, dispensing Fate,
And great Othryoneus, so fear’d of late?
Black Fate hangs o’er thee from th’ avenging Gods,
Imperial Troy from her Foundations nods;
Whelm’d in thy Country’s Ruins shalt thou fall,
And one devouring Vengeance swallow all.
When Paris thus: My Brother and my Friend,
Thy warm Impatience makes thy Tongue offend.
In other Battels I deserv’d thy Blame,
Tho’ then not deedless, nor unknown to Fame:
But since yon’ Rampart by thy Arms lay low,
I scatter’d Slaughter from my fatal Bow.
The Chiefs you seek on yonder Shore lie slain;
Of all those Heroes, two alone remain;
Deiphobus, and Helenus the Seer:
Each now disabled by a hostile Spear.
Go then, successful, where thy Soul inspires;
This Heart and Hand shall second all thy Fires:
What with this Arm I can, prepare to know,
Till Death for Death be paid, and Blow for Blow.
But ’tis not ours, with Forces not our own
To combate; Strength is of the Gods alone.
These Words the Hero’s angry Mind asswage:
Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage.
Around Polydamas, distain’d with Blood,
Cebrion, Phalces, stern Orthaeus stood,
Palmus, with Polypaetes the divine,
And two bold Brothers of Hippotion’s Line:
(Who reach’d fair Ilion, from Ascania far,
The former Day; the next, engag’d in War.)
As when from gloomy Clouds a Whirlwind springs,
That bears Jove’s Thunder on its dreadful Wings,
1000Wide o’er the blasted Fields the Tempest sweeps,
Then, gather’d, settles on the hoary Deeps;
Th’ afflicted Deeps, tumultuous, mix and roar;
The Waves behind impel the Waves before,
Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.
Thus Rank on Rank the thick Battalions throng,
Chief urg’d on Chief, and Man drove Man along:
Far o’er the Plains, in dreadful Order bright,
The brazen Arms reflect a beamy Light.
Full in the blazing Van great Hector shin’d,
Like Mars commission’d to confound Mankind.
Before him flaming, his enormous Shield
Like the broad Sun, illumin’d all the Field:
His nodding Helm emits a streamy Ray;
His piercing Eyes thro’ all the Battel stray,
And while beneath his Targe he flash’d along,
Shot Terrors round, that wither’d ev’n the Strong.
Thus stalk’d he, dreadful; Death was in his Look:
Whole Nations fear’d: but not an Argive shook.
The tow’ring Ajax, with an ample Stride,
Advanc’d the first; and thus the Chief defy’d.
Hector! come on, thy empty Threats forbear:
’Tis not thy Arm, ’tis thund’ring Jove we fear:
The Skill of War to us not idly giv’n,
Lo! Greece is humbled not by Troy, but Heav’n.
Vain are the Hopes that haughty Mind imparts,
To force our Fleet: The Greeks have hands, and hearts.
Long e’er in Flames our lofty Navy fall,
Your boasted City and your god-built Wall
Shall sink beneath us, smoaking on the Ground;
And spread a long, unmeasur’d Ruin round.
The time shall come, when chas’d along the Plain,
Ev’n thou shalt call on Jove, and call in vain;
Ev’n thou shalt wish, to aid thy desp’rate Course,
The Wings of Falcons for thy flying Horse;
Shalt run, forgetful of a Warrior’s Fame,
While Clouds of friendly Dust conceal thy Shame.
As thus he spoke, behold, in open View,
On sounding Wings a dexter Eagle flew.
To Jove’s glad Omen all the Grecians rise,
And hail, with Shouts, his Progress thro’ the Skies:
Far-echoing Clamours bound from side to side;
They ceas’d; and thus the Chief of Troy reply’d.
From whence this Menace, this insulting Strain,
Enormous Boaster! doom’d to vaunt in vain.
So may the Gods on Hector Life bestow,
(Not that short Life which Mortals lead below,
But such as those of Jove’s high Lineage born,
The blue-ey’d Maid, or he that gilds the Morn.)
As this decisive Day shall end the Fame
1050Of Greece, and Argos be no more a Name.
And thou, Imperious! if thy Madness wait
The Lance of Hector, thou shalt meet thy Fate:
That Giant-Corse, extended on the Shore,
Shall largely feast the Fowls with Fat and Gore.
He said, and like a Lion stalk’d along:
With Shouts incessant Earth and Ocean rung,
Sent from his follo’wing Host: The Grecian Train
With answ’ring Thunders fill’d the echoing Plain;
A Shout, that tore Heav’ns Concave, and above
Shook the fix’d Splendors of the Throne of Jove.
Observations on the 13th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI,
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
- Note LII.
- Note LIII.
- Note LIV.
- Note LV.
- Note LVI.
- Note LVII.
- Note LVIII.
Note I.
VERSE 5. ONE might fancy at the first reading of this Passage, that Homer here turn’d aside from the main View of his Poem in a vain Ostentation of Learning, to amuse himself with a foreign and unnecessary Description of the Manners and Customs of these Nations. But we shall find, upon better Consideration, that Jupiter’s turning aside his Eyes was necessary to the Conduct of the Work, as it gives Opportunity to Neptune to assist the Greeks, and thereby causes all the Adventures of this Book. Madam Dacier is too refining on this occasion; when she would have it, that Jupiter’s averting his Eyes signifies his abandoning the Trojans; in the same manner, as the Scripture represents the Almighty turning his Face from those whom he deserts. But at this rate Jupiter turning his Eyes from the Battel, must desert both the Trojans and the Greeks; and it is evident from the Context, that Jupiter intended nothing less than to let the Trojans suffer.
Note II.
VERSE 9. And where the far-fam’d Hippemolgian strays. ]
There is much dispute among the Criticks, which are the proper Names, and which the Epithets, in these Verses: Some making [Greek]the Epithet to [Greek], others [Greek]the Epithet to [Greek]; and [Greek], which by the common Interpreters is thought only an Epithet, is by Strabo and Ammianus Marcellinus made the proper Name of a People. In this Diversity of Opinions, I have chosen that which I thought would make the best Figure in Poetry. It is a beautiful and moral Imagination, to suppose that the long Life of the Hippemolgians was an Effect of their simple Diet, and a Reward of their Justice: And that the supreme Being, displeas’d at the continued Scenes of human Violence and Dissension, as it were recreated his Eyes in contemplating the Simplicity of these People.
It is observable that the same Custom of living on Milk is preserv’d to this Day by the Tartars, who inhabit the same Country.
Note III.
VERSE 28. At Jove incens’d, with Grief and Fury stung, Prone down the rocky Steep he rush’d.— ]
Mons. de la Motte has play’d the Critick upon this Passage a little unadvisedly.
" Neptune, says he, is impatient to assist the Greeks. Homer tells us that this God goes first to seek his Chariot in a certain Place; next he arrives at another Place nearer the Camp; there he takes off his Horses, and then he locks them fast to secure them at his Return. The Detail of so many little Particularities no way suits the Majesty of a God, or the Impatience in which he is described."
Another French Writer makes answer, that however impatient Neptune is represented to be, none of the Gods ever go to the War without their Arms; and the Arms, Chariot and Horses of Neptune were at Aegae. He makes but four Steps to get thither; so that what M. de la Motte calls being slow, is Swiftness itself. The God puts on his Arms, mounts his Chariot, and departs: nothing is more rapid than his Course; he flies over the Waters: the Verses of Homer in that Place run swifter than the God himself. It is sufficient to have Ears, to perceive the Rapidity of Neptune’s Chariot in the very Sound of those three Lines, each of which is entirely compos’d of Dactyles, excepting that one Spondee which must necessarily terminate the Verse.
[Greek]
Note IV.
VERSE 29. —The lofty Mountains nod, The Forests shake! Earth trembled as he trod, And felt the Footsteps of th’ immortal God. ]
Longinus confesses himself wonderfully struck with the Sublimity of this Passage. That Critick, after having blam’d the Defects with which Homer draws the Manners of his Gods, adds, that he has much better succeeded in describing their Figure and Persons. He owns that he often paints a God such as he is, in all his Majesty and Grandeur, and without any Mixture of mean and terrestrial Images; of which he produces this Passage as a remarkable Instance, and one that had challeng’d the Admiration of all Antiquity.
The Book of Psalms affords us a Description of the like sublime manner of Imagery, which is parallel to this. O God, when thou wentest forth before thy People, when thou didst march through the Wilderness, the Earth shook, the Heavens dropped at the Presence of God, even Sinai itself was moved at the Presence of God, the God of Israel. Ps. 68.
Note V.
VERSE 32. —Three ample Strides he took. ]
This is a very grand Imagination, and equals, if not transcends, the Sublimity of what he has feign’d before of the Passage of this God. We are told, that at four Steps he reach’d Aegae, which (supposing it meant of the Town of that Name in Euboea, which lay the nighest to Thrace ) is hardly less than a Degree at each Step. One may, from a View of the Map, imagine him striding from Promontory to Promontory, his first Step on Mount Athos, his second on Pallene, his third upon Pelion, and his fourth in Euboea. Dacier is not to be forgiven for omitting this miraculous Circumstance, which so perfectly agrees with the marvellous Air of the whole Passage, and without which the sublime Image of Homer is not compleat.
Note VI.
VERSE 33. —The distant Aegae shook. ]
There were three Places of this Name which were all sacred to Neptune; an Island in the Aegean Sea mention’d by Nicostratus, a Town in Peloponnesus, and another in Euboea. Homer is supposed in this Passage to speak of the last; but the Question is put, why Neptune who stood upon a Hill in Samothrace, instead of going on the left to Troy, turns to the right, and takes a way contrary to that which leads to the Army? This Difficulty is ingeniously solv’d by the old Scholiast; who says, that Jupiter being now on Mount Ida, with his Eyes turn’d towards Thrace, Neptune could not take the direct way from Samothrace to Troy without being discover’d by him; and therefore fetches this Compass to conceal himself. Eustathius is contented to say, that the Poet made Neptune go so far about, for the Opportunity of those fine Descriptions of the Palace, the Chariot, and the Passage of this God.
Note VII.
VERSE 43. Th’ enormous Monsters rolling o’er the Deep. ]
This Description of Neptune rises upon us; his Passage by Water is yet more pompous than that by Land. The God driving thro’ the Seas, the Whales acknowledging him, and the Waves rejoicing and making way for their Monarch, are full of that Marvellous so natural to the Imagination of our Author. And I cannot but think the Verses of Virgil in the fifth Aeneid are short of his Original.
Coeruleo per summa levis volat aequora curru: Subsidunt undae, tumidum{que} sub axe tonanti Sternitur aequor aquis: fugiunt vasto aethere nimbi. Tum variae comitum facies, immania cete, &c.
I fancy Scaliger himself was sensible of this, by his passing in Silence a Passage which lay so obvious to Comparison.
Note VIII.
VERSE 79. —This Part o’erthrown, Our Strength were vain: I dread for you alone. ]
What Address, and at the same time, what Strength is there in these Words? Neptune tells the two Ajaces, that he is only afraid for their Post, and that the Greeks will perish by that Gate, since it is Hector who assaults it; at every other Quarter, the Trojans will be repuls’d: It may therefore be properly said, that the Ajaces only are vanquish’d, and that their Defeat draws Destruction upon all the Greeks. I don’t think that any thing better could be invented to animate couragious Men, and make them attempt even Impossibilities. Dacier.
Note IX.
VERSE 83. If yet some heav’nly Pow’r, &c.]
Here Neptune considering how the Greeks were discourag’d by the Knowledge that Jupiter assisted Hector, insinuates, that notwithstanding Hector’s Confidence in that Assistance, yet the Power of some other God might countervail it on their part; wherein he alludes to his own aiding them, and seems not to doubt his Ability of contesting the Point with Jove himself. ’Tis with the same Confidence he afterwards speaks to Iris, of himself and his Power, when he refuses to submit to the Order of Jupiter in the fifteenth Book. Eustathius remarks, what an Incentive it must be to the Ajaces, to hear those who could stand against Hector equall’d, in this oblique manner, to the Gods themselves.
Note X.
VERSE 97. Th’ inspiring God Oileus’ active Son—Perceiv’d the first. ]
The Reason has been ask’d, why the lesser Ajax is the first to perceive the Assistance of the God? And the ancient Solution of this Question was very ingenious, as we have it from Eustathius. They said that the greater Ajax, being slow of Apprehension, and naturally valiant, could not be sensible so soon of this Accession of Strength, as the other, who immediately perceiv’d it as not owing so much to his natural Courage.
Note XI.
VERSE 102. Short as he turn’d, I saw the Pow’r. ]
This Opinion, that the Majesty of the Gods was such that they could not be seen Face to Face by Men, seems to have been generally receiv’d in most Nations. Spondanus observes, that it might be derived from sacred Truth, and founded upon what God says to Moses in Exodus, Ch. 33. ℣. 20, 23. Man shall not see me and live: Thou shalt see my back Parts, but my Face thou shalt not behold. For the farther Particulars of this Notion among the Heathens, see the 30 th Note on the first, and the 69 th on the fifth Book.
Note XII.
VERSE 131. The Speech of Neptune to the Greeks.]
After Neptune in his former Discourse to the Ajaces, who yet maintain’d a retreating Fight, had encouraged them to withstand the Attack of the Trojans; he now addresses himself to those, who having fled out of the Battel, and retired to the Ships, had given up all for lost. These he endeavours to bring again to the Engagement, by one of the most noble and spirited Speeches in the whole Iliad. He represents that their present miserable Condition was not to be imputed to their want of Power, but to their want of Resolution to withstand the Enemy, whom by Experience they had often found unable to resist them. But what is particularly artful, while he is endeavouring to prevail upon them, is that he does not attribute their present Dejection of Mind to a cowardly Spirit, but to a Resentment and Indignation of their General’s Usage of their favourite Hero Achilles. With the same softning Art, he tells them, he scorns to speak thus to Cowards, but is only concern’d for their Misbehaviour as they are the bravest of the Army. He then exhorts them for their own sake to avoid Destruction, which would certainly be inevitable, if for a Moment longer they delay’d to oppose so imminent a Danger.
Note XIII.
VERSE 141. A Rout undisciplin’d, &c.]
I translate this Line,
[Greek]
with Allusion to the want of military Discipline among the Barbarians, so often hinted at in Homer. He is always opposing to this the exact and regular Disposition of his Greeks, and accordingly a few Lines after, we are told that the Grecian Phalanxes were such, that Mars or Minerva could not have found a Defect in them.
Note XIV.
VERSE 155. Prevent this Evil, &c.]
The Verse in the Original,
[Greek]
may be capable of receiving another Sense to this Effect. If it be your Resentment of Agamemnon’s Usage of Achilles, that withholds you from the Battel, that Evil viz. the Dissension of those two Chiefs) may soon be remedy’d, for the Minds of good Men are easily calm’d and compos’d. I had once translated it,
Their future Strife with Speed we shall redress, For noble Minds are soon compos’d to Peace.
But upon considering the whole Context more attentively, the other Explanation (which is that of Didymus ) appeared to me the more natural and unforc’d, and I have accordingly follow’d it.
Note XV.
VERSE 171. Fix’d at his Post was each bold Ajax found, &c.]
We must here take notice of an old Story, which however groundless and idle it seems, is related by Plutarch, Philostratus and others. Ganictor the Son of Amphidamas King of Euboea, celebrating with all Solemnity the Funeral of his Father, proclaimed according to Custom several publick Games, among which was the Prize for Poetry: Homer and Hesiod came to dispute for it. After they had produc’d several Pieces on either side, in all which the Audience declar’d for Homer, Panides the Brother of the deceased, who sate as one of the Judges, order’d each of the contending Poets to recite that Part of his Works which he esteem’d the best. Hesiod repeated those Lines which make the beginning of his second Book,
[Greek], &c.
Homer answer’d with the Verses which follow here: But the Prince preferring the peaceful Subject of Hesiod to the martial one of Homer, contrary to the Expectation of all, adjudg’d the Prize to Hesiod. The Commentators upon this occasion are very rhetorical, and universally exclaim against so crying a Piece of Injustice. All the hardest Names which Learning can furnish, are very liberally bestow’d upon poor Panides. Spondanus is mighty smart, calls him Midas, takes him by the Ear, and asks the dead Prince as many insulting Questions, as any of his Author’s Heroes could have done. Dacier with all Gravity tells us, that Posterty prov’d a more equitable Judge than Panides. And if I had not told this Tale in my turn, I must have incurred the Censure of all the Schoolmasters in the Nation.
Note XVI,
VERSE 173. So close their Order, &c.]
When Homer retouches the same Subject, he has always the Art to rise in his Ideas above what he said before. We shall find an Instance of it in this Place; if we compare this manner of commending the exact Discipline of an Army, with what he had made use of on the same occasion at the end of the fourth Iliad. There it is said, that the most experienc’d Warrior could not have reprehended any thing, had he been led by Pallas thro’ the Battel; but here he carries it farther, in affirming that Pallas and the God of War themselves must have admir’d this Disposition of the Grecian Forces. Eustathius.
Note XVII.
VERSE 177. A chosen Phalanx, firm, &c.]
Homer in these Lines has given us a Description of the Ancient Phalanx, which consisted of several Ranks of Men closely ranged in this order. The first Line stood with their Spears levell’d directly forward; the second Rank being armed with Spears two Cubits longer, levell’d them likewise forward thro’ the Interstices of the first; and the third in the same manner held forth their Spears yet longer, thro’ the two former Ranks; so that the Points of the Spears of the three Ranks terminated in one Line. All the other Ranks stood with their Spears erected, in Readiness to advance, and fill the vacant Places of such as fell. This is the Account Eustathius gives of the Phalanx, which he observes was only fit for a Body of Men acting on the Defensive, but improper for the Attack: And accordingly Homer here only describes the Greeks ordering their Battel in this manner, when they had no other View but to stand their Ground against the furious Assault of the Trojans. The same Commentator observes from Hermolytus, an ancient Writer of Tacticks, that this manner of ordering the Phalanx was afterwards introduc’d among the Spartans by Lycurgus, among the Argives by Lysander, among the Thebans by Epaminondas, and among the Macedonians by Charidemus.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 191. As from some Mountain’s craggy Forehead torn, &c.]
This is one of the noblest Simile’s in all Homer, and the most justly corresponding in its Circumstances to the thing described. The furious Descent of Hector from the Wall represented by a Stone that flies from the top of a Rock, the Hero push’d on by the superior Force of Jupiter, as the Stone driven by a Torrent, the Ruins of the Wall falling after him, all things yielding before him, the Clamour and Tumult around him, all imag’d in the violent bounding and leaping of the Stone, the crackling of the Woods, the Shock, the Noise, the Rapidity, the Irresistibility, and the Augmentation of Force in its Progress. All these Points of Likeness make but the first Part of this admirable Simile. Then the sudden Stop of the Stone when it comes to the Plain, as of Hector at the Phalanx of the Ajaces (alluding also to the natural Situation of the Ground, Hector rushing down the Declivity of the Shore, and being stopp’d on the Level of the Sea.) And lastly, the Immobility of both when so stopp’d, the Enemy being as unable to move him back, as he to get forward: This last Branch of the Comparison is the happiest in the World, and tho’ not hitherto observ’d, is what methinks makes the principal Beauty and Force of it. The Simile is copied by Virgil, Aen. 12.
Ac veluti montis saxum de vertice praeceps, Cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber Proluit, aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas: Fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu Exultatque solo; sylvas, armenta, virosque Involvens secum. Disjecta per agmina Turnus Sic urbis ruit ad muros—
And Tasso has again copied it from Virgil in his 18 th Book.
Qual gran sasso tal hor, che o la vecchiezza Solve da un monte, o svelle ira de ’venti Ruinoso dirupa, e porta, e spezza Le selve, e con le case anco gli armenti Tal giù trahea de la sublime altezza L’horribil trave e merli, e arme, e gente, Diè la torre a quel moto uno, o duo crolli; Tremar le mura, e rimbombaro i colli.
It is but Justice to Homer to take notice how infinitely inferior both these Similes are to their Original. They have taken the Image without the Likeness, and lost those corresponding Circumstances which raise the Justness and Sublimity of Homer’s. In Virgil it is only the Violence of Turnus in which the whole Application consists: And in Tasso it has no farther Allusion than to the Fall of a Tower in general.
There is yet another Beauty in the Numbers of this Part. As the Verses themselves make us see, the Sound of them makes us hear what they represent, in the noble Roughness, Rapidity, and sonorous Cadence that distinguishes them.
[Greek], &c.
The Translation, however short it falls of these Beauties, may yet serve to shew the Reader, that there was at least an Endeavour to imitate them.
Note XIX.
VERSE 279. Idomen of Crete.]
Idomeneus appears at large in this Book, whose Character (if I take it right) is such as we see pretty often in common Life: A Person of the first Rank, sufficient enough of his high Birth, growing into Years, conscious of his Decline in Strength and active Qualities; and therefore endeavouring to make it up to himself in Dignity, and to preserve the Veneration of others. The true Picture of a stiff old Soldier, not willing to lose any of the Reputation he has acquir’d; yet not inconsiderate in Danger; but by the Sense of his Age, and by his Experience in Battel, become too cautious to engage with any great odds against him: Very careful and tender of his Soldiers, whom he had commanded so long that they were become old Acquaintance; (so that it was with great Judgment Homer chose to introduce him here, in performing a kind Office to one of ’em who was wounded.) Talkative upon Subjects of War, as afraid that others might lose the Memory of what he had done in better Days, of which the long Conversation with Meriones, and Ajax’s Reproach to him in Iliad 23. ℣. 478. are sufficient Proofs. One may observe some Strokes of Lordliness and State in his Character: That Respect Agamemnon seems careful to treat him with, and the particular Distinctions shewn him at Table, are mention’d in a manner that insinuates they were Points upon which this Prince not a little insisted. Il. 4. ℣. 257, &c. The vaunting of his Family in this Book, together with his Sarcasms and contemptuous Railleries on his dead Enemies, savour of the same Turn of Mind. And it seems there was among the Ancients a Tradition of Idomeneus which strengthens this Conjecture of his Pride: For we find in the Heroicks of Philostratus, that before he would come to the Trojan War, he demanded a Share in the sovereign Command with Agamemnon himself.
I must, upon this occasion, make an Observation once for all, which will be applicable to many Passages in Homer, and afford a Solution of many Difficulties. It is that our Author drew several of his Characters with an Eye to the Histories then known of famous Persons, or the Traditions that past in those Times. One cannot believe otherwise of a Poet, who appears so nicely exact in observing all the Customs of the Age he described; nor can we imagine the infinite Number of minute Circumstances relating to particular Persons, which we meet with every where in his Poem, could possibly have been invented purely as Ornaments to it. This Reflection will account for a hundred seeming Oddnesses not only in the Characters, but in the Speeches of the Iliad: For as no Author is more true than Homer to the Character of the Person he introduces speaking, so no one more often suits his Oratory to the Character of the Person spoken to. Many of these Beauties must needs be lost to us, yet this Supposition will give a new Light to several Particulars. For instance, the Speech I have been mentioning of Agamemnon to Idomeneus in the 4 th Book, wherein he puts this Hero in mind of the magnificent Entertainments he had given him, becomes in this View much less odd and surprizing. Or who can tell but it had some Allusion to the Manners of the Cretans whom he commanded, whose Character was so well known, as to become a Proverb: The Cretans, evil Beasts, and slow Bellies.
Note XX.
VERSE 283. The Surgeons of the Camp. ]
Podalirius and Machaon were not the only Physicians in the Army; it appears from some Passages in this Poem, that each Body of Troops had one peculiar to themselves. It may not be improper to advertise, that the ancient Physicians were all Surgeons. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 325.—Meriones attends, Whom thus he questions— ]
This Conversation between Idomeneus and Meriones is generally censured as highly improper and out of Place, and as such is given up even by M. Dacier, the most zealons of our Poet’s Defenders. However, if we look closely into the Occasion and Drift of this Discourse, the Accusation will I believe, appear not so well grounded. Two Persons of Distinction, just when the Enemy is put to a stop by the Ajaces, meet behind the Army: Having each on important occasions retired out of the Fight, the one to help a wounded Soldier, the other to seek a new Weapon. Idomeneus, who is superior in Years as well as Authority, returning to the Battel, is surprized to meet Meriones out of it, who was one of his own Officers, ( [Greek], as Homer here calls him) and being jealous of his Soldier’s Honour, demands the Cause of his quitting the Fight? Meriones having told him it was the want of a Spear, he yet seems unsatisfy’d with the Excuse; adding, that he himself did not approve of that distant manner of fighting with a Spear: Meriones being touch’d to the quick with this Reproach, replies, that He of all the Greeks had the least reason to suspect his Courage: Whereupon Idomeneus perceiving him highly piqued, assures him he entertains no such hard Thoughts of him, since he had often known his Courage prov’d on such Occasions, where the Danger being greater, and the Number smaller, it was impossible for a Coward to conceal his natural Infirmity: But now recollecting that a malicious Mind might give a sinister Interpretation to their Inactivity during this Discourse, he immediately breaks it off upon that Reflection. As therefore this Conversation has its Rise from a Jealousy in the most tender Point of Honour, I think the Poet cannot justly be blamed for suffering a Discourse so full of warm Sentiments to run on for about forty Verses; which after all cannot be suppos’d to take up more than two or three Minutes from Action.
Note XXII.
VERSE 335. This headless Lance, &c.]
We have often seen several of Homer’s Combatants lose and break their Spears, yet they do not therefore retire from the Battel to seek other Weapons, why therefore does Homer here send Meriones on this Errand? It may be said, that in the kind of Fight which the Greeks now maintain’d drawn up into the Phalanx, Meriones was useless without this Weapon.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 339. Spears I have store, &c.]
Idomeneus describes his Tent as a Magazine, stored with Variety of Arms won from the Enemy, which were not only laid up as useless Trophies of his Victories, but kept there in order to supply his own, and his Friends Occasions. And this Consideration shews us one reason why these Warriors contended with such Eagerness to carry off the Arms of a vanquish’d Enemy.
This gives me an occasion to animadvert upon a false Remark of Eustathius, which is inserted in the 30 th Note on the 11 th Book,
"that Homer, to shew us nothing is so unseasonable in a Battel as to stay to despoil the slain, feigns that most of the Warriors who do it, are kill’d, wounded, or unsuccessful."
I am astonish’d how so great a Mistake should fall from any Man who had read Homer, much more from one who had read him so thoroughly, and even superstitiously, as the old Archbishop of Thessalonica. There is scarce a Book in Homer that does not abound with Instances to the contrary, where the Conquerors strip their Enemies, and bear off their Spoils in Triumph. It was (as I have already said in the Essay on Homer’s Battels) as honourable an Exploit in those Days to carry off the Arms, as it is now to gain a Standard. But it is a strange Consequence, that because our Author sometimes represents a Man unsuccessful in a glorious Attempt, he therefore discommends the Attempt itself; and is as good an Argument against encountring an Enemy living, as against spoiling him dead. One ought not to confound this with Plundering, between which Homer has so well mark’d the Distinction; when he constantly speaks of the Spoils as glorious, but makes Nestor in the 6 th Book, and Hector in the 15 th directly forbid the Pillage, as a Practice that has often prov’d fatal in the midst of a Victory, and sometimes even after it.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 353. To him Idomeneus.]
There is a great deal more Dialogue in Homer than in Virgil. The Roman Poet’s are generally set Speeches, those of the Greek more in Conversation. What Virgil does by two Words of a Narration, Homer brings about by a Speech; he hardly raises one of his Heroes out of Bed without some Talk concerning it. There are not only Replies, but Rejoinders in Homer, a thing scarce ever to be found in Virgil; the Consequence whereof is, that there must be in the Iliad many continued Conversations (such as this of our two Heroes) a little resembling common Chit-chat. This renders the Poem more natural and animated, but less grave and majestick. However, that such was the way of writing generally practis’d in those ancient Times, appears from the like manner used in most of the Books of the Old Testament; and it particularly agreed with our Author’s warm Imagination, which delighted in perpetual Imagery, and in painting every Circumstance of what he described.
Note XXV.
VERSE 355. In that sharp Service, &c.]
In a general Battel Cowardise may be the more easily conceal’d, by reason of the Number of the Combatants; but in an Ambuscade, where the Soldiers are few, each must be discover’d to be what he is; this is the reason why the Ancients entertain’d so great an Idea of this sort of War; the bravest Men were always chosen to serve upon such Occasions. Eustathius.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 384. So Mars Armipotent, &c.]
Homer varies his Similitudes with all imaginable Art, sometimes deriving them from the Properties of Animals, sometimes from natural Passions, sometimes from the Occurrences of Life, and sometimes (as in the Simile before us) from History. The Invention of Mars’s Passage from Thrace (which was feign’d to be the Country of that God) to the Phlegyans and Ephyrians, is a very beautiful and poetical manner of celebrating the martial Genius of that People, who liv’d in perpetual Wars.
Methinks there is something of a fine Enthusiasm, in Homer’s manner of fetching a Compass, as it were, to draw in new Images besides those in which the direct Point of Likeness consists. Milton perfectly well understood the Beauty of these digressive Images, as we may see from the following Simile, which is in a manner made up of them.
Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks In Vallombrosa (where th’ Etrurian Shades High-overarch’d embow’r.) Or scatter’d Sedge Afloat, when with fierce Winds Orion arm’d Hath vex’d the Red Sea -Coast, (whose Wave o’erthrew Busiris and his Memphian Chivalry, While with perfidious Hatred they pursu’d The Sojourners of Goshen, who beheld From the safe Shore their floating Carcasses, And broken Chariot-Wheels)—So thick bestrown Abject and lost lay these.—
As for the general Purport of this Comparison of Homer, it gives us a noble and majestick Idea, at once of Idomeneus and Meriones, represented by Mars and his Son Terror; in which each of these Heroes is greatly elevated, yet the just Distinction between them preserved. The beautiful Simile of Virgil in his 12 th Aeneid is drawn with an Eye to this of our Author.
Qualis apud gelidi cùm flumina concitus Hebri Sanguineus Mavors clypeo increpat, atque furentes Bella movens immittit equos; illi aequore aperto Ante Notos Zephyrumque volant: gemit ultima pulsu Thraca pedum: circumque atrae Formidinis ora, Iraeque, Insidiaeque, Dei comitatus, aguntur.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 396. —Shall we join the Right, Or combate in the Centre of the Fight, Or to the Left our wanted Succour lend? ]
The common Interpreters have to this Question of Meriones given a meaning which is highly impertinent, if not downright Nonsense; explaining it thus. Shall we fight on the right, or in the middle, or on the left, for no where else doe the Greeks so much want Assistance; which amounts to this; Shall we engage where our Assistance is most wanted, or where it is not wanted? The Context, as well as the Words of the Original, oblige us to understand it in this obvious meaning; Shall we bring our Assistance to the right, to the left, or to the Centre? Since the Greeks being equally press’d and engag’d on all sides, equally need our Aid in all Parts.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 400. Not in the Centre, &c.]
There is in this Answer of Idomeneus a small Circumstance which is overlook’d by the Commentators, but in which the whole Spirit and Reason of what is said by him consists. He says he is in no fear for the Centre, since it is defended by Teucer and Ajax: Teucer being not only most famous for the Use of the Bow, but likewise excellent [Greek], in a close standing Fight: And as for Ajax, tho’ not so swift of Foot as Achilles, yet he was equal to him [Greek], in the same stedfast manner of fighting; hereby plainly intimating that he was secure for the Centre, because that Post was defended by two Persons both accomplish’d in that Part of War, which was most necessary for the Service they were then engaged in; the two Expressions before mention’d peculiarly signifying a firm and steady way of fighting, most useful in maintaining a Post.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 451. In War and Discord’s Adamantine Chain. ]
This short but comprehensive Allegory is very proper to give us an Idea of the present Condition of the two contending Armies, who being both powerfully sustain’d by the Assistance of superior Deities, join and mix together in a close and bloody Engagement, without any remarkable Advantage on either side. To image to us this State of Things, the Poet represents Jupiter and Neptune holding the two Armies close bound by a mighty Chain, which he calls the Knot of Contention and War, and of which the two Gods draw the Extremities, whereby the enclos’d Armies are compell’d together, without any Possibility on either side to separate or to conquer; there is not perhaps in Homer any Image at once so exact and so bold. Madam Dacier acknowledges, that despairing to make this Passage shine in her Language, she purposely omitted it in her Translation: But from what she says in her Annotations, it seems that she did not rightly apprehend the Propriety and Beauty of it. Hobbes too was not very sensible of it, when he translated it so oddly.
And thus the Saw from Brother unto Brother Of cruel War was drawn alternately, And many slain on one side and the other.
Note XXX.
VERSE 451.] It will be necessary, for the better understanding the Conduct of Homer in every Battel he describes, to reflect on the particular kind of Fight, and the Circumstances that distinguish each. In this View therefore we ought to remember thro’ this whole Book, that the Battel describ’d in it, is a fix’d close Fight, wherein the Armies engage in a gross compact Body, without any of those Skirmishes or Feats of Activity so often mention’d in the foregoing Engagements. We see at the beginning of it the Grecians form a Phalanx, ℣. 126. which continues unbroken at the very end, ℣. 806. The chief Weapon made use of is a Spear, being most proper for this manner of Combat; nor do we see any other use of a Chariot, but to carry off the dead or wounded (as in the Instance of Harpalion and Deiphobus. ) From hence we may observe, with what Judgment and Propriety Homer introduces Idomeneus as the chief in Action on this occasion: For this Hero being declined from his Prime, and somewhat stiff with Years, was only fit for this kind of Engagement, as Homer expressly says in the 512th Verse of the present Book.
[Greek]
Note XXXI.
VERSE 471. The great Idomeneus bestrides the dead: And thus (he cries)— ]
It seems (says Eustathius on this Place) that the Iliad being an heroick Poem, is of too serious a Nature to admit of Raillery: Yet Homer has found the secret of joining two things that are in a manner incompatible. For this Piece of Raillery is so far from raising Laughter, that it becomes a Hero, and is capable to enflame the Courage of all who hear it. It also elevates the Character of Idomeneus, who notwithstanding he is in the midst of imminent Dangers, preserves his usual Gaiety of Temper, which is the greatest Evidence of an uncommon Courage. Id. p. 935.
I confess I am of an Opinion very different from this of Eustathius, which is also adopted by M. Dacier. So severe and bloody an Irony to a dying Person is a fault in Morals, if not in Poetry itself. It should not have place at all, or if it should, is ill placed here. Idomeneus is represented a brave Man, nay a Man of a compassionate Nature, in the Circumstance he was introduc’d in, of assisting a wounded Soldier. What Provocation could such an one have, to insult so barbarously an unfortunate Prince, being neither his Rival nor particular Enemy? True Courage is inseparable from Humanity, and all generous Warriors regret the very Victories they gain, when they reflect what a Price of Blood they cost. I know it may be answer’d, that these were not the Manners of Homer’s Time, a Spirit of Violence and Devastation then reigned, even among the chosen People of God, as may be seen from the Actions of Joshua, &c. However, if one would forgive the Cruelty, one cannot forgive the Gaiety on such an occasion. These inhuman Jests the Poet was so far from being oblig’d to make, that he was on the contrary forced to break through the general serious Air of his Poem to introduce them. Would it not raise a Suspicion, that (whatever we see of his superior Genius in other respects) his own Views of Morality were not elevated above the Barbarity of his Age? I think indeed the thing by far the most shocking in this Author, is that Spirit of Cruelty which appears too manifestly in the Iliad.
Virgil was too judicious to imitate Homer in these Licences, and is much more reserv’d in his Sarcasms and Insults. There are not above four or five in the whole Aeneid. That of Pyrrhus to Priam in the second Book, tho’ barbarous in itself, may be accounted for as intended to raise a Character of Horror, and render the Action of Pyrrhus odious; whereas Homer stains his most Favourite Characters with these Barbarities. That of Ascanius over Numanus in the ninth, was a fair Opportunity where Virgil might have indulg’d the Humour of a cruel Raillery, and have been excus’d by the Youth and Gaiety of the Speaker; yet it is no more than a very moderate Answer to the Insolences with which he had just been provok’d by his Enemy, only retorting two of his own Words upon him.
—I, verbis virtutem illude superbis! Bis capti Phryges haec Rutulis responsa remittunt.
He never suffers his Aeneas to fall into this Practice, but while he is on fire with Indignation after the Death of his Friend Pallas: That short one to Mezentius is the least that could be said to such a Tyrant.
—Ubi nunc Mezentius acer, & illa Effera vis animi?—
The worst-natur’d one I remember (which yet is more excusable than Homer’s) is that of Turnus to Eumedes in the 12 th Book.
En, agros, & quam bello, Trojane, petisti, Hesperiam metire jacens: haec praemia, qui me Ferro ausi tentare, ferunt: sic moenia condunt.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 474. And such the Contract of the Phrygian King, &c.]
It was but natural to raise a Question, on occasion of these and other Passages in Homer, how it comes to pass that the Heroes of different Nations are so well acquainted with the Stories and Circumstances of each other? Eustathius’s Solution is no ill one, that the Warriors on both sides might learn the Story of their Enemies from the Captives they took, during the Course of so long a War.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 513. The Cretan saw, and stooping, &c.]
Nothing could paint in a more lively manner this whole Action, and every Circumstance of it, than the following Lines. There is the Posture of Idomeneus upon seeing the Lance flying toward him; the lifting the Shield obliquely to turn it aside; the Arm discover’d in that Position; the Form, Composition, Materials, and Ornaments of the Shield distinctly specify’d; the Flight of the Dart over it, the Sound of it first as it flew, then as it fell; and the Decay of that Sound on the Edge of the Buckler, which being thinner than the other Parts rather tinkled than rung, especially when the first Force of the Stroke was spent on the Orb of it. All this in the Compass of so few Lines, in which every word is an Image, is something more beautifully particular, than I remember to have met with in any Poet.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 543. He, once of Ilion ’s Youth the loveliest Boy. ]
Some Manuscripts, after these Words [Greek], insert the three following Verses,
[Greek]
which I have not translated, as not thinking them genuine. Mr. Barnes is of the same Opinion.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 554. His lab’ring Heart, heaves, with so strong a bound, The long Lance shakes, and vibrates in the Wound. ]
We cannot read Homer without observing a wonderful Variety in the Wounds and Manner of dying. Some of these Wounds are painted with very singular Circumstances, and those of uncommon Art and Beauty. This Passage is a Masterpiece in that way; Alcathous is pierced into the Heart, which throbs with so strong a Pulse, that the Motion is communicated even to the distant End of the Spear, which is vibrated thereby. This Circumstance might appear too bold, and the Effect beyond Nature, were we not inform’d by the most skilful Anatomists of the wonderful Force of this Muscle, which some of them have computed to be equal to the Weight of several thousand Pounds. Lower de Corde. Borellus.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 578. Incens’d at partial Priam, &c.]
Homer here gives the reason why Aeneas did not fight in the foremost Ranks. It was against his Inclination that he serv’d Priam, and he was rather engag’d by Honour and Reputation to assist his Country, than by any Disposition to aid that Prince. This Passage is purely historical, and the Ancients have preserv’d to us a Tradition which serves to explain it. They say, that Aeneas became suspected by Priam, on account of an Oracle which prophesied he should in Process of Time rule over the Trojans. The King therefore shew’d him no great Degree of Esteem or Consideration, with Design to discredit, and render him despicable to the People. Eustathius. This Envy of Priam, and this Report of the Oracle, are mention’d by Achilles to Aeneas in the 20 th Book, ℣. 179.
— [Greek]
[Greek]—
And Neptune in the 306th Verse of the same Book,
[Greek]
I shall conclude this Note with the Character of Aeneas, as it is drawn by Philostratus, wherein he makes mention of the same Tradition.
" Aeneas (says this Author) was inferior to Hector in Battel only, in all else equal, and in Prudence superior. He was likewise skilful in whatever related to the Gods, and conscious of what Destiny had reserv’d for him after the taking of Troy. Incapable of Fear, never discompos’d, and particularly possessing himself in the Article of Danger. Hector is reported to have been call’d the Hand, and Aeneas the Head of the Trojans; and the latter more advantag’d their Affairs by his Caution, than the former by his Fury. These two Heroes were much of the same Age, and the same Stature: The Air of Aeneas had something in it less bold and forward, but at the same time more fix’d and constant.
Philostrat. Heroic.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 621. Like Ida ’s Flocks, &c.]
Homer, whether he treats of the Customs of Men or Beasts, is always a faithful Interpreter of Nature. When Sheep leave the Pasture and drink freely, it is a certain Sign, that they have found good Pasturage, and that they are all sound; ’tis therefore upon this Account, that Homer says the Shepherd rejoices. Homer, we find, well understood what Aristotle many Ages after him remark’d, viz. that Sheep grow fat by drinking. This therefore is the reason, why Shepherds are accustom’d to give their Flocks a certain Quantity of Salt every five Days in the Summer, that they may by this means drink the more abundantly. Eustathius.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 655. And, fir’d with Hate. ]
Homer does not tell us the occasion of this Hatred; but since his Days, Simonides and Ibycus write, that Idomeneus and Deiphobus were Rivals, and both in love with Helen. This very well agrees with the ancient Tradition which Eurypides and Virgil have follow’d: For after the Death of Paris, they tell us she was espous’d to Deiphobus. Eustathius.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 721. Bending he fell, and doubled to the Ground, Lay panting.— ]
The Original is,
— [Greek]—
The Versification represents the short broken Pantings of the dying Warrior, in the short sudden Break at the second Syllable of the second Line. And this beauty is, as it happens, precisely copied in the English. It is not often that a Translator can do this Justice to Homer, but he must be content to imitate these Graces and Proprieties at more distance, by endeavouring at something parallel, tho’ not the same.
Note XL.
VERSE 728. King Helenus.]
The Appellation of King was not anciently confin’d to those only who bore the sovereign Dignity, but apply’d also to others. There was in the Island of Cyprus a whole Order of Officers call’d Kings, whose Business it was to receive the Relations of Informers, concerning all that happen’d in the Island, and to regulate Affairs accordingly. Eustathius.
Note XLI.
VERSE 739. As on some ample Barn’s well-harden’d Floor. ]
We ought not to be shock’d at the Frequency of these Similes taken from the Ideas of a rural Life. In early Times, before Politeness had rais’d the Esteem of Arts subservient to Luxury, above those necessary to the Subsistence of Mankind, Agriculture was the Employment of Persons of the greatest Esteem and Distinction: We see in sacred History Princes busy at Sheep-shearing; and in the middle Times of the Roman Common-wealth, a Dictator taken from the Plough. Wherefore it ought not to be wonder’d that Allusions and Comparisons of this kind are frequently used by ancient heroick Writers, as well to raise, as illustrate their Descriptions. But since these Arts are fallen from their ancient Dignity, and become the Drudgery of the lowest People, the Images of them are likewise sunk into Meanness, and without this Consideration, must appear to common Readers unworthy to have place in Epic Poems. It was perhaps thro’ too much Deference to such Tastes, that Chapman omitted this Simile in his Translation.
Note XLII.
VERSE 751. A Sling’s soft Wool, snatch’d from a Soldier’s side, At once the Tent and Ligature supply’d. ]
The Words of the Original are these,
[Greek]
This Passage, by the Commentators ancient and modern, seems rightly understood in the Sense express’d in this Translation: The word [Greek]properly signifying a Sling; which (as Eustathius observes from an old Scholiast) was anciently made of woollen Strings. Chapman alone dissents from the common Interpretation, boldly pronouncing that Slings are no where mention’d in the Iliad, without giving any reason for his Opinion. He therefore translates the word [Greek], a Skarffe, by no other Authority but that he says, it was a fitter thing to hang a wounded Arm in, than a Sling; and very prettily wheedles his Reader into this Opinion by a most gallant Imagination, that his Squire might carry this Skarffe about him as a Favour of his own or of his Master’s Mistress. But for the use he has found for this Skarffe, there is not any Pretence from the Original; where it is only said the Wound was bound up, without any mention of hanging the Arm. After all, he is hard put to it in his Translation; for being resolv’d to have a Scarf, and oblig’d to mention Wool, we are left entirely at a loss to know from whence he got the latter.
A like Passage recurs near the end of this Book, where the Poet says the Locrians went to War without Shield or Spear, only armed,
[Greek]
Which last Expression, as all the Commentators agree, signifies a Sling, tho’ the word [Greek]is not used. Chapman here likewise, without any Colour of Authority, dissents from the common Opinion; but very inconstant in his Errors, varies his Mistake, and assures us, this Expression is the true Periphrasis of a light kind of Armour, call’d a Jack, by which all our Archers used to serve in of old, and which were ever quilted with Wool.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 766. The cover’d Pole-Axe. ]
Homer never ascribes this Weapon to any but the Barbarians, for the Battel-Axe was not used in War by the politer Nations. It was the favourite Weapon of the Amazons. Eustathius.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 779. The Speech of Menelaus.]
This Speech of Menelaus over his dying Enemy, is very different from those with which Homer frequently makes his Heroes insult the vanquish’d, and answers very well the Character of this goodnatur’d Prince. Here are no insulting Taunts, no cruel Sarcasms, nor any sporting with the particular Misfortunes of the dead: The Invectives he makes are general, arising naturally from a Remembrance of his Wrongs, and being almost nothing else but a Recapitulation of them. These Reproaches come most justly from this Prince, as being the only Person among the Greeks who had receiv’d any personal Injury from the Trojans. The Apostrophe he makes to Jupiter, wherein he complains of his protecting a wicked People, has given occasion to censure Homer as guilty of Impiety, in making his Heroes tax the Gods with Injustice: But since, in the former Part of this Speech, it is expresly said, that Jupiter will certainly punish the Trojans by the Destruction of their City for violating the Laws of Hospitality, the latter Part ought only to be consider’d as a Complaint to Jupiter for delaying that Vengeance: This Reflection being no more than what a pious suffering Mind, griev’d at the flourishing Condition of prosperous Wickedness, might naturally fall into. Not unlike this is the Complaint of the Prophet Jeremiah, Ch. 12. ℣. 1. Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee: yet let me talk with thee of thy Judgments. Wherefore doth the way of the wicked prosper? Wherefore are all they happy that deal very treacherously? Nothing can more fully represent the Cruelty and Injustice of the Trojans, than the Observation with which Menelaus finishes their Character, by saying, that they have a more strong, constant, and insatiable Appetite after Blood-shed and Rapine, than others have to satisfy the most agreeable Pleasures and natural Desires.
Note XLV.
VERSE 795. The best of things beyond their Measure cloy. ]
These Words comprehend a very natural Sentiment, which perfectly shews the wonderful Folly of Men: They are soon weary’d with the most agreeable things, when they are innocent, but never with the most toilsome things in the World, when injust and criminal. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 797. The Dance. ]
In the Original it is call’d [Greek]the blameless Dance; to distinguish (says Eustathius ) what sort of Dancing it is that Homer commends. For there were two kinds of Dancing practis’d among the Ancients, the one reputable, invented by Minerva, or by Castor and Pollux; the other dishonest, of which Pan, or Bacchus, was the Author. They were distinguish’d by the Name of the Tragic, and the Comic or Satyric Dance. But those which probably our Author commends were certain military Dances us’d by the greatest Heroes. One of this sort was known to the Macedonians and Persians, practis’d by Antiochus the Great, and the famous Polyperchon. There was another which was danc’d in compleat Armour, call’d the Pyrrhick, from Pyrrhicus the Spartan its Inventor, which continu’d in fashion among the Lacedaemonians. Scaliger the Father remarks, that this Dance was too laborious to remain long in use even among the Ancients; however it seems that Labour could not discourage this bold Critick from reviving that laudable kind of Dance in the Presence of the Emperor Maximilian and his whole Court. It is not to be doubted but the Performance rais’d their Admiration; nor much to be wonder’d at, if they desir’d to see more than once so extraordinary a Spectacle, as we have it in his own Words. Poëtices, lib. 1. cap. 18. Hanc saltationem [Pyrrhicam] nos & saepe, & diu, coram Divo Maximiliano, jussu Bonisacii patrui, non sine stupore totius Germaniae, repraesentavimus.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 819. Like some vile Worm extended on the Ground. ]
I cannot be of Eustathius’s Opinion, that this Simile was design’d to debase the Character of Harpalion, and to represent him in a mean and disgraceful View, as one who had nothing noble in him. I rather think from the Character he gives of this young Man, whose Piety carry’d him to the Wars to attend his Father, and from the Air of this whole Passage, which is tender and pathetick, that he intended this humble Comparison only as a mortifying Picture of human Misery and Mortality. As to the Verses which Eustathius alledges for a Proof of the Cowardice of Harpalion,
[Greek]—
The Retreat described in the first Verse is common to the greatest Heroes in Homer; the same Words are apply’d to Deiphobus and Meriones in this Book, and to Patroclus in the 16 th, ℣. 817. The same thing in other Words is said even of the great Ajax, Il. 15. ℣. 728. And we have Ulysses describ’d in the 4 th, ℣. 497. with the same Circumspection and Fear of the Darts: tho’ none of those Warriors have the same reason as Harpalion for their Retreat or Caution, he alone being unarm’d, which Circumstance takes away all Imputation of Cowardice.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 823. The pensive Father. ]
We have seen in the 5 th Iliad the Death of Pylaemenes General of the Paphlagonians: How comes he then in this Place to be introduced as following the Funeral of his Son? Eustathius informs us of a most ridiculous Solution of some Criticks, who thought it might be the Ghost of this unhappy Father, who not being yet interr’d, according to the Opinion of the Ancients, wander’d upon the Earth. Zenodotus not satisfy’d with this, (as indeed he had little reason to be) chang’d the Name of Pylaemenes into Kylaemenes. Didymus thinks there were two of the same Name; as there are in Homer two Schedius’s. two Eurymedon’s, and three Adrastus’s. And others correct the Verse by adding a Negative, [Greek]his Father did not follow his Chariot with his Face bath’d in Tears. Which last, if not of more Weight than the rest, is yet more ingenious. Eustathius. Dacier.
Nor did his valiant Father (now no more) Pursue the mournful Pomp along the Shore, No Sire surviv’d, to grace th’ untimely Bier, Or sprinkle the cold Ashes with a Tear.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 840. And chose the certain, glorious Path to Death. ]
Thus we see Euchenor is like Achilles, who sail’d to Troy, tho’ he knew he should fall before it: This might somewhat have prejudic’d the Character of Achilles, every Branch of which ought to be single, and superior to all others, as he ought to be without a Rival in every thing that speaks a Hero: Therefore we find two essential Differences between Euchenor and Achilles, which preserve the Superiority of the Hero of the Poem. Achilles, if he had not sail’d to Troy, had enjoy’d a long Life; but Euchenor had been soon cut off by some cruel Disease. Achilles being independent, and as a King, could have liv’d at ease at home, without being obnoxious to any Disgrace; but Euchenor being but a private Man, must either have gone to the War, or been expos’d to an ignominious Penalty. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note L.
VERSE 845. Nor knew great Hector, &c.]
Most part of this Book being employ’d to describe the brave Resistance the Greeks made on their left under Idomeneus and Meriones; the Poet now shifts the Scene, and returns to Hector, whom he left in the Centre of the Army, after he had pass’d the Wall, endeavouring in vain to break the Phalanx where Ajax commanded. And that the Reader might take notice of this Change of Place, and carry distinctly in his Mind each Scene of Action, Homer is very careful in the following Lines to let us know that Hector still continues in the Place where he had first pass’d the Wall, at that part of it which was lowest, (as appears from Sarpedon’s having pull’d down one of its Battlements on foot, lib. 12.) and which was nearest the Station where the Ships of Ajax were lay’d, because that Hero was probably thought a sufficient Guard for that Part. As the Poet is so very exact in describing each Scene as in a Chart or Plan, the Reader ought to be careful to trace each Action in it; otherwise he will see nothing but Confusion in things which are in themselves very regular and distinct. This Observation is the more necessary, because even in this Place, where the Poet intended to prevent any such Mistake, Dacier and other Interpreters have apply’d to the present Action what is only a Recapitulation of the Time and Place describ’d in the former Book.
Note LI.
VERSE 858. Pthians.]
These Pthians are not the Troops of Achilles, for those were call’d Pthiotes; but they were the Troops of Protesilaus and Philoctetes. Eustathius.
Note LII.
VERSE 875. So when two lordly Bulls, &c.]
The Image here given of the Ajaces is very lively and exact; there being no Circumstance of their present Condition that is not to be found in the Comparison, and no Particular in the Comparison that does not resemble the Action of the Heroes. Their Strength and Labour, their Unanimity and Nearness to each other, the Difficulties they struggle against, and the Sweat occasion’d by this Struggling, perfectly corresponding with the Simile.
Note LIII.
VERSE 933. Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains On yonder Decks, and yet o’erlooks the Plains. ]
There never was a nobler Encomium than this of Achilles. It seems enough to so wise a Counsellor as Polydamas, to convince so intrepid a Warrior as Hector, in how great Danger the Trojans stood, to say, Achilles sees us.
"Tho’ he abstains from the Fight, he still casts his Eye on the Battel; it
is true, we are a brave Army, and yet keep our Ground, but still Achilles sees us, and we are not safe."
This Reflection makes him a God, a single Regard of whom can turn the Fate of Armies, and determine the Destiny of a whole People. And how nobly is this Thought extended in the Progress of the Poem, where we shall see in the 16 th Book the Trojans fly at the first Sight of his Armour, worn by Patroclus; and in the 18 th their Defeat compleated by his sole Appearance, unarm’d, on his Ship.
Note LIV.
VERSE 939. Hector, with a bound, Leapt from his Chariot. ]
Hector having in the last Book alighted, and caused the Trojans to leave their Chariots behind them, when they pass’d the Trench, and no mention of any Chariot but that of Asius since occurring in the Battel; we must necessarily infer, either that Homer has neglected to mention the Advance of the Chariots, (a Circumstance which should not have been omitted) or else that he is guilty here of a great Mistake in making Hector leap from his Chariot. I think it evident, that this is really a Slip of the Poet’s Memory: For in this very Book, ℣. 533. we see Polites leads off his wounded Brother to the Place where his Chariot remain’d behind the Army. And again in the next Book, Hector being wounded, is carried out of the Battel in his Soldier’s Arms to the Place where his Horses and Chariot waited at a distance from the Battel,
— [Greek]— Lib. 14. ℣. 428.
But what puts it beyond Dispute, that the Chariots continued all this time in the Place where they first quitted them, is a Passage in the beginning of the fifteenth Book, where the Trojans being overpower’d by the Greeks, fly back over the Wall and Trench till they came to the Place where their Chariots stood,
[Greek]Lib. 15. ℣. 3.
Neither Eustathius nor Dacier have taken any notice of this Incongruity, which would tempt one to believe they were willing to overlook what they could not excuse. I must honestly own my Opinion, that there are several other Negligences of this kind in Homer. I cannot think otherwise of the Passage in the present Book concerning Pylaemenes; notwithstanding the Excuses of the Commentators which are there given. The very using the same Name in different Places for different Persons, confounds the Reader in the Story, and is what certainly would be better avoided: So that ’tis to no purpose to say, there might as well be two Pylaemenes’s as two Schedius’s, two Eurymedons, two Ophelestes’s, &c. since it is more blameable to be negligent in many Instances than in one. Virgil is not free from this, as Macrobius has observ’d. Sat. l. 5. c. 15. But the abovemention’d Names are Proofs of that Critick’s being greatly mistaken in affirming that Homer is not guilty of the same. It is one of those many Errors he was led into, by his Partiality to Homer above Virgil.
Note LV.
VERSE 948. And seem’d a moving Mountain topt with Snow. ]
This Simile is very short in the Original, and requires to be open’d a little to discover its full Beauty. I am not of Mad. Dacier’s Opinion, that the Lustre of Hector’s Armour was that which furnish’d Homer with this Image; it seems rather to allude to the Plume upon his Helmet, in the Action of shaking which, this Hero is so frequently painted by our Author, and from thence distinguish’d by the remarkable Epithet [Greek]. This is a very pleasing Image, and very much what the Painters call Picturesque. I fancy it gave the Hint for a very fine one in Spenser, where he represents the Person of Contemplation in the Figure of a venerable old Man almost consum’d with Study.
His snowy Locks adown his Shoulders spread, As hoary Frost with Spangles doth attire The mossy Branches of an Oak half dead.
Note LVI.
VERSE 965. Ill-fated Paris.]
The Reproaches which Hector here casts on Paris, give us the Character of this Hero, who in many things resembles Achilles; being (like him) injust, violent, and impetuous, and making no Distinction between the innocent and criminal. ’Tis he who is obstinate in attacking the Entrenchments, yet asks an Account of those who were slain in the Attack from Paris; and tho’ he ought to blame himself for their Deaths, yet he speaks to Paris, as if thro’ his Cowardice he had suffer’d these to be slain, whom he might have preserv’d if he had fought couragiously. Eustathius.
Note LVII.
VERSE 1005. Wide-rowling, foaming high, and tumbling to the Shore. ]
I have endeavour’d in this Verse to imitate the Confusion, and broken Sound of the Original, which images the Tumult and roaring of many Waters.
[Greek]—
Note LVIII.
VERSE 1037. Clouds of rolling Dust. ]
A Critick might take occasion from hence, to speak of the exact time of the Year in which the Actions of the Iliad are suppos’d to have happen’d. And (according to the grave manner of a learned Dissertator) begin by informing us, that he has found it must be the Summer-Season, from the frequent mention made of Clouds of Dust: Tho what he discovers might be full as well inferr’d from common Sense, the Summer being the natural Season for a Campaign. However he should quote all those Passages at large; and adding to the Article of Dust as much as he can find of the Sweat of the Heroes, it might fill three Pages very much to his own Satisfaction. It would look well to observe farther, that the Fields are describ’d flowery, Il. 2. ℣. 467. that the Branches of a Tamarisk Tree are flourishing, Il. 10. ℣. 767. that the Warriors sometimes wash themselves in the Sea, Il. 10. ℣. 572. and sometimes refresh themselves by cool Breezes from the Sea, Il. 11. ℣. 620. that Diomed sleeps out of his Tent on the Ground, Il. 10. ℣. 150. that the Flies are very busy about the dead Body of Patroclus, Il. 19. ℣. 23. that Apollo covers the Body of Hector with a Cloud to prevent its being scorch’d, Il. 23. ℣. 190. All this would prove the very thing which was said at first, that it was Summer. He might next proceed to enquire, what precise critical Time of Summer? And here the mention of new-made Honey in Il. 11. ℣. 630. might be of great Service in the Investigation of this important Matter: He would conjecture from hence, that it must be near the end of Summer, Honey being seldom taken till that time; to which having added the Plague which rages in Book 1. and remark’d, that Infections of that kind generally proceed from the extremest Heats, which Heats are not till near the Autumn; the learned Enquirer might hug himself in this Discovery, and conclude with Triumph.
If any one think this too ridiculous to have been ever put in Practice, he may see what Bossu has done to determine the precise Season of the Aeneid, lib. 3. ch. 12. The Memory of that learned Critick fail’d him, when he produc’d as one of the Proofs that it was Autumn, a Passage in the 6 th Book, where the Fall of the Leaf is only mention’d in a Simile. He has also found out a Beauty in Homer, which few even of his greatest Admirers can believe he intended; which is, that to the Violence and Fury of the Iliad he artfully adapted the Heat of Summer, but to the Odysseis the cooler and maturer Season of Autumn, to correspond with the Sedateness and Prudence of Ulysses.
Book XIV THE FOURTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
NEstor sitting at the Table with Machaon, is alarm’d with the encreasing Clamour of the War, and hastens to Agamemnon: On his way he meets that Prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the Extremity of the Danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their Escape by Night, which Ulysses withstands; to which Diomed adds his Advice, that, wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the Army with their Presence; which Advice is pursued. Juno seeing the Partiality of Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a Design to over-reach him; she sets off her Charms with the utmost Care, and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains the Magick Girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the God of Sleep, and with some Difficulty, persuades him to seal the Eyes of Jupiter; this done she goes to Mount Ida, where the God, at first sight, is ravish’d with her Beauty, sinks in her Embraces, and is laid asleep. Neptune takes Advantage of his Slumber, and succours the Greeks: Hector is struck to the Ground with a prodigious Stone by Ajax, and carry’d off from the Battel: Several Actions succeed; till the Trojans much distress’d, are obliged to give way: The lesser Ajax signalizes himself in a particular manner.
Index to The Argument
- [1-34] Nestor leaves the feast, alarmed by the battle
- [35-58] Nestor meets the wounded kings
- [59-87] Agamemnon proposes retreat by night
- [88-113] Ulysses' fiery rebuke
- [114-152] Diomed's counsel: Return to the field to inspire the men
- [153-178] Neptune encourages Agamemnon and rallies the Greeks
- [179-190] Juno plans the seduction of Jupiter
- [191-218] The adornment of the goddess
- [219-256] Juno borrows the magic girdle from Venus
- [257-316] Juno persuades Sleep to aid her scheme
- [317-406] The seduction on Mount Ida
- [407-448] Neptune, informed of Jove's slumber, aids the Greeks
- [449-470] The armies clash; Hector faces Ajax
- [471-514] Ajax fells Hector with a great stone
- [515-618] The Trojans are repulsed; the Lesser Ajax excels
- [1-618] Scene: The Greek camp, Olympus, and Mount Ida
BUT nor the genial Feast, nor flowing Bowl,
Could charm the Cares of Nestor’s watchful Soul;
His startled Ears th’ encreasing Cries attend;
Then thus, impatient, to his wounded Friend.
What new Alarm, divine Machaon say,
What mixt Events attend this mighty Day?
Hark! how the Shouts divide, and how they meet,
And now come full, and thicken to the Fleet!
Here, with the cordial Draught, dispel thy Care,
Let Hecamede the strength’ning Bath prepare,
Refresh thy Wound, and cleanse the clotted Gore;
While I th’Adventures of the Day explore.
He said: and seizing Thrasimedes’ Shield,
(His valiant Offspring) hasten’d to the Field;
(That Day, the Son his Father’s Buckler bore)
Then snatch’d a Lance, and issu’d from the Door.
Soon as the Prospect open’d to his View,
His wounded Eyes the Scene of Sorrow knew;
Dire Disarray! the Tumult of the Fight,
The Wall in Ruins, and the Greeks in Flight.
As when old Ocean’s silent Surface sleeps,
The Waves just heaving on the purple Deeps;
While yet th’ expected Tempest hangs on high,
Weighs down the Cloud, and blackens in the Sky,
The Mass of Waters will no Wind obey;
Jove sends one Gust, and bids them roll away.
While wav’ring Counsels thus his Mind engage,
Fluctuates, in doubtful Thought, the Pylian Sage;
To join the Host, or to the Gen’ral haste,
Debating long, he fixes on the last:
Yet, as he moves, the Fight his Bosom warms;
The Field rings dreadful with the Clang of Arms;
The gleaming Faulchions flash, the Javelins fly;
Blows echo Blows, and all, or kill, or die.
Him, in his March, the wounded Princes meet,
By tardy Steps ascending from the Fleet.
The King of Men, Ulysses the divine,
And who to Tydeus owes his noble Line.
(Their Ships at distance from the Battel stand,
In Lines advanc’d along the shelving Strand;
Whose Bay, the Fleet unable to contain
At length, beside the Margin of the Main,
Rank above Rank, the crowded Ships they moor;
Who landed first lay highest on the Shore.)
Supported on their Spears, they took their way,
Unfit to fight, but anxious for the Day.
Nestor’s Approach alarm’d each Grecian Breast,
Whom thus the Gen’ral of the Host addrest.
O Grace and Glory of th’ Achaian Name!
What drives thee, Nestor, from the Field of Fame?
50Shall then proud Hector see his Boast fulfill’d,
Our Fleets in Ashes, and our Heroes kill’d?
Such was his Threat, ah now too soon made good,
On many a Grecian Bosom writ in Blood.
Is ev’ry Heart inflam’d with equal Rage
Against your King, nor will one Chief engage?
And have I liv’d to see with mournful Eyes
In ev’ry Greek a new Achilles rise?
Gerenian Nestor then. So Fate has will’d;
And all-confirming Time has Fate fulfill’d.
Not he that thunders from th’ aerial Bow’r,
Not Jove himself, upon the Past has pow’r.
The Wall, our late inviolable Bound,
And best Defence, lies smoaking on the Ground:
Ev’n to the Ships their conqu’ring Arms extend,
And Groans of slaughter’d Greeks to Heav’n ascend.
On speedy Measures then employ your Thought;
In such Distress if Counsel profit ought;
Arms cannot much: Tho’ Mars our Souls incite,
These gaping Wounds withhold us from the Fight.
To him the Monarch. That our Army bends,
That Troy triumphant our high Fleet ascends,
And that the Rampart, late our surest Trust,
And best Defence, lies smoaking in the Dust;
All this from Jove’s afflictive Hand we bear:
Who, far from Argos, wills our Ruin here.
Past are the Days when happier Greece was blest,
And all his Favour, all his Aid confest;
Now Heav’n averse, our Hands from Battel ties,
And lifts the Trojan Glory to the Skies.
Cease we at length to waste our Blood in vain,
And launch what Ships lie nearest to the Main;
Leave these at Anchor till the coming Night:
Then if impetuous Troy forbear the Fight,
Bring all to Sea, and hoist each Sail for flight.
Better from Evils, well foreseen, to run,
Than perish in the Danger we may shun.
Thus he. The sage Ulysses thus replies,
While Anger flash’d from his disdainful Eyes.
What shameful Words, (unkingly as thou art)
Fall from that trembling Tongue, and tim’rous Heart?
Oh were thy Sway the Curse of meaner Pow’rs,
And thou the Shame of any Host but ours!
A Host, by Jove endu’d with martial Might,
And taught to conquer, or to fall in Fight:
Advent’rous Combats and bold Wars to wage,
Employ’d our Youth, and yet employs our Age.
And wilt thou thus desert the Trojan Plain?
And have whole Streams of Blood been spilt in vain?
In such base Sentence if thou couch thy Fear,
100Speak it in Whispers, lest a Greek should hear.
Lives there a Man so dead to Fame, who dares
To think such Meanness, or the Thought declares?
And comes it ev’n from him, whose sov’reign Sway
The banded Legions of all Greece obey?
Is this a Gen’ral’s Voice, that calls to flight,
While War hangs doubtful, while his Soldiers fight?
What more could Troy? What yet their Fate denies
Thou giv’st the Foe: all Greece becomes their Prize.
No more the Troops, our hoisted Sails in view,
Themselves abandon’d, shall the Fight pursue,
Thy Ships first flying with Despair shall see,
And owe Destruction to a Prince like thee.
Thy just Reproofs ( Atrides calm replies)
Like Arrows pierce me, for thy Words are wise.
Unwilling as I am to lose the Host,
I force not Greece to quit this hateful Coast.
Glad I submit, whoe’er, or young or old,
Ought, more conducive to our Weal, unfold.
Tydides cut him short, and thus began.
Such Counsel if you seek, behold the Man
Who boldly gives it, and what he shall say,
Young tho’ he be, disdain not to obey:
A Youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs,
May speak to Councils and assembled Kings.
Hear then in me the great Oenides’ Son,
Whose honour’d Dust (his Race of Glory run)
Lies whelm’d in Ruins of the Theban Wall,
Brave in his Life, and glorious in his Fall.
With three bold Sons was gen’rous Prothous blest,
Who Pleuron’s Walls and Calydon possest;
Melas and Agrius, but (who surpast
The rest in Courage) Oeneus was the last.
From him, my Sire: from Calydon expell’d,
He fled to Argos, and in Exile dwell’d;
The Monarch’s Daughter there (so Jove ordain’d)
He won, and flourish’d where Adrastus reign’d:
There rich in Fortune’s Gifts, his Acres till’d,
Beheld his Vines their liquid Harvest yield,
And num’rous Flocks, that whiten’d all the Field.
Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in Fame!
Nor lives in Greece a Stranger to his Name.
Then, what for common Good my Thoughts inspire,
Attend, and in the Son, respect the Sire.
Tho’ sore of Battel, tho’ with Wounds opprest,
Let each go forth, and animate the rest,
Advance the Glory which he cannot share,
Tho’ not Partaker, Witness of the War.
But lest new Wounds on Wounds o’erpower us quite,
Beyond the missile Javelin’s sounding Flight,
150Safe let us stand; and from the Tumult far,
Inspire the Ranks, and rule the distant War.
He added not: The list’ning Kings obey,
Slow moving on; Atrides leads the way.
The God of Ocean (to inflame their Rage)
Appears a Hero furrow’d o’er with Age;
Prest in his own, the Gen’ral’s Hand he took,
And thus the venerable Warrior spoke.
Atrides, lo! with what disdainful Eye
Achilles sees his Country’s Forces fly:
Blind impious Man! whose Anger is his Guide,
Who glories in inutterable Pride!
So may he perish, so may Jove disclaim
The Wretch relentless, and o’erwhelm with Shame!
But Heav’n forsakes not thee: O’er yonder Sands
Soon shalt thou view the scatter’d Trojan Bands
Fly diverse; while proud Kings, and Chiefs renown’d
Driv’n Heaps on Heaps, with Clouds involv’d around
Of rolling Dust, their winged Wheels employ,
To hide their ignominious Heads in Troy.
He spoke, then rush’d amid the warring Crew;
And sent his Voice before him as he flew,
Loud, as the Shout encountring Armies yield,
When twice ten thousand shake the lab’ring Field;
Such was the Voice, and such the thund’ring Sound
Of him, whose Trident rends the solid Ground.
Each Argive Bosom beats to meet the Fight,
And grizly War appears a pleasing Sight.
Meantime Saturnia from Olympus’ Brow,
High-thron’d in Gold, beheld the Fields below;
With Joy the glorious Conflict she survey’d,
Where her great Brother gave the Grecians Aid.
But plac’d aloft, on Ida’s shady Height
She sees her Jove, and trembles at the Sight.
Jove to deceive, what Methods shall she try,
What Arts, to blind his all-beholding Eye?
At length she trusts her Pow’r; resolv’d to prove
’The old, yet still successful, Cheat of Love;
Against his Wisdom to oppose her Charms,
And lull the Lord of Thunders in her Arms.
Swift to her bright Apartment she repairs,
Sacred to Dress, and Beauty’s pleasing Cares:
With Skill divine had Vulcan form’d the Bow’r,
Safe from Access of each intruding Pow’r.
Touch’d with her secret Key, the Doors unfold;
Self-clos’d behind her shut the Valves of Gold.
Here first she bathes; and round her Body pours
Soft Oils of Fragrance, and ambrosial Show’rs:
The Winds perfum’d, the balmy Gale convey
Thro’ Heav’n, thro’ Earth, and all th’aerial Way;
200Spirit divine! whose Exhalation greets
The Sense of Gods with more than mortal Sweets.
Thus while she breath’d of Heav’n, with decent Pride
Her artful Hands the radiant Tresses ty’d;
Part on her Head in shining Ringlets roll’d,
Part o’er her Shoulders wav’d like melted Gold.
Around her next a heav’nly Mantle flow’d,
That rich with Pallas’ labour’d Colours glow’d;
Large Clasps of Gold the Foldings gather’d round,
A golden Zone her swelling Bosom bound.
Far-beaming Pendants tremble in her Ear,
Each Gemm illumin’d with a triple Star.
Then o’er her Head she casts a Veil more white
Than new fal’n Snow, and dazling as the Light.
Last her fair Feet celestial Sandals grace.
Thus issuing radiant, with majestic Pace,
Forth from the Dome th’Imperial Goddess moves,
And calls the Mother of the Smiles and Loves.
How long (to Venus thus apart she cry’d)
Shall human Strifes celestial Minds divide?
Ah yet, will Venus aid Saturnia’s Joy,
And set aside the Cause of Greece and Troy?
Let Heav’n’s dread Empress ( Cytheraea said)
Speak her Request, and deem her Will obey’d.
Then grant me (said the Queen) those conqu’ring Charms,
That Pow’r, which Mortals and Immortals warms,
That Love, which melts Mankind in fierce Desires,
And burns the Sons of Heav’n with sacred Fires!
For lo! I haste to those remote Abodes,
Where the great Parents (sacred Source of Gods!)
Ocean and Tethys their old Empire keep,
On the last Limits of the Land and Deep.
In their kind Arms my tender Years were past;
What-time old Saturn, from Olympus cast,
Of upper Heav’n to Jove resign’d the Reign,
Whelm’d under the huge Mass of Earth and Main.
For Strife, I hear, has made the Union cease,
Which held so long that ancient Pair in Peace.
What Honour, and what Love shall I obtain,
If I compose those fatal Feuds again?
Once more their Minds in mutual Ties engage,
And what my Youth has ow’d, repay their Age.
She said. With Awe divine the Queen of Love
Obey’d the Sister and the Wife of Jove:
And from her fragrant Breast the Zone unbrac’d,
With various Skill and high Embroid’ry grac’d.
In this was ev’ry Art, and ev’ry Charm,
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm:
Fond Love, the gentle Vow, the gay Desire,
The kind Deceit, the still-reviving Fire,
250Persuasive Speech, and more persuasive Sighs,
Silence that spoke, and Eloquence of Eyes.
This on her Hand the Cyprian Goddess lay’d;
Take this, and with it all thy Wish, she said:
With Smiles she took the Charm; and smiling prest
The pow’rful Cestus to her snowy Breast.
Then Venus to the Courts of Jove withdrew;
Whilst from Olympus pleas’d Saturnia flew.
O’er high Pieria thence her Course she bore,
O’er fair Emathia’s ever pleasing Shore,
O’er Haemus’ Hills with Snows eternal crown’d;
Nor once her flying Foot approach’d the Ground.
Then taking wing from Athos’ lofty Steep,
She speeds to Lemnos o’er the rowling Deep,
And seeks the Cave of Death’s half-Brother, Sleep.
Sweet pleasing Sleep! ( Saturnia thus began)
Who spread’st thy Empire o’er each God and Man;
If e’er obsequious to thy Juno’s Will,
O Pow’r of Slumbers! hear, and favour still.
Shed thy soft Dews on Jove’s immortal Eyes,
While sunk in Love’s entrancing Joys he lies.
A splendid Footstool, and a Throne, that shine
With Gold unfading, Somnus, shall be thine;
The Work of Vulcan; to indulge thy Ease,
When Wine and Feasts thy golden Humours please.
Imperial Dame (the balmy Pow’r replies)
Great Saturn’s Heir, and Empress of the Skies!
O’er other Gods I spread my easy Chain;
The Sire of all, old Ocean, owns my Reign,
And his hush’d Waves lie silent on the Main.
But how, unbidden, shall I dare to steep
Jove’s awful Temples in the Dew of Sleep?
Long since too vent’rous, at thy bold Command,
On those eternal Lids I laid my Hand;
What-time, deserting Ilion’s wasted Plain,
His conqu’ring Son, Alcides, plow’d the Main:
When lo! the Deeps arise, the Tempests roar,
And drive the Hero to the Coan Shore:
Great Jove awaking, shook the blest Abodes,
With rising Wrath, and tumbled Gods on Gods;
Me chief he sought, and from the Realms on high
Had hurl’d indignant to the nether Sky,
But gentle Night, to whom I fled for Aid,
(The Friend of Earth and Heav’n) her Wings display’d;
Impow’r’d the Wrath of Gods and Men to tame,
Ev’n Jove rever’d the Venerable Dame.
Vain are thy Fears (the Queen of Heav’n replies,
And speaking rolls her large, majestic Eyes)
Think’st thou that Troy has Jove’s high Favour won,
Like great Alcides, his all-conqu’ring Son?
300Hear, and obey the Mistress of the Skies,
Nor for the Deed expect a vulgar Prize;
For know, thy lov’d one shall be ever thine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.
Swear then (he said) by those tremendous Floods
That roar thro’ Hell, and bind th’ invoking Gods:
Let the great Parent Earth one Hand sustain,
And stretch the other o’er the sacred Main.
Call the black Gods that round Saturnus dwell,
To hear, and witness from the Depths of Hell;
That, she, my lov’d one, shall be ever mine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.
The Queen assents, and from th’ infernal Bow’rs
Invokes the sable Subtartarean Pow’rs,
And those who rule th’ inviolable Floods,
Whom Mortals name the dread Titanian Gods.
Then swift as Wind, o’er Lemnos smoaky Isle,
They wing their way, and Imbrus’ Sea-beat Soil,
Thro’ Air unseen involv’d in Darkness glide,
And light on Lectos, on the Point of Ide.
(Mother of Savages, whose echoing Hills
Are heard resounding with a hundred Rills)
Fair Ida trembles underneath the God;
Hush’d are her Mountains, and her Forests nod.
There on a Fir, whose spiry Branches rise
To join its Summit to the neighb’ring Skies,
Dark in embow’ring Shade, conceal’d from Sight,
Sate Sleep, in Likeness of the Bird of Night,
( Chalcis his Name with those of heav’nly Birth,
But call’d Cymindis by the Race of Earth.)
To Ida’s Top successful Juno flies:
Great Jove surveys her with desiring Eyes:
The God, whose Light’ning sets the Heav’ns on fire,
Thro’ all his Bosom feels the fierce Desire;
Fierce as when first by stealth he seiz’d her Charms,
Mix’d with her Soul, and melted in her Arms.
Fix’d on her Eyes he fed his eager Look,
Then press’d her Hand, and thus with Transport spoke.
Why comes my Goddess from th’ aethereal Sky,
And not her Steeds and flaming Chariot nigh?
Then she—I haste to those remote Abodes,
Where the great Parents of the deathless Gods,
The rev’rend Ocean and grey Tethys reign,
On the last Limits of the Land and Main.
I visit these, to whose indulgent Cares
I owe the nursing of my tender Years.
For Strife, I hear, has made that Union cease
Which held so long this ancient Pair in Peace.
The Steeds, prepar’d my Chariot to convey
O’er Earth and Seas, and thro’ th’ aërial way,
350Wait under Ide: Of thy superior Pow’r
To ask Consent, I leave th’ Olympian Bow’r;
Nor seek, unknown to thee, the sacred Cells
Deep under Seas, where hoary Ocean dwells.
For that (said Jove ) suffice another Day;
But eager Love denies the least Delay.
Let softer Cares the present Hour employ,
And be these Moments sacred all to Joy.
Ne’er did my Soul so strong a Passion prove,
Or for an earthly, or a heav’nly Love:
Not when I press’d Ixion’s matchless Dame,
Whence rose Perithous like the Gods in Fame.
Not when fair Danaë felt the Show’r of Gold
Stream into Life, whence Perseus brave and bold.
Not thus I burn’d for either Theban Dame,
( Bacchus from this, from that Alcides came)
Not Phoenix’ Daughter, beautiful and young,
Whence godlike Rhadamanth and Minos sprung.
Not thus I burn’d for fair Latona’s Face,
Nor comelier Ceres’ more majestic Grace.
Not thus ev’n for thy self I felt Desire,
As now my Veins receive the pleasing Fire.
He spoke; the Goddess with the charming Eyes
Glows with celestial Red, and thus replies.
Is this a Scene for Love? On Ida’s Height,
Expos’d to mortal, and immortal Sight;
Our Joys prophan’d by each familiar Eye;
The Sport of Heav’n, and Fable of the Sky!
How shall I e’er review the blest Abodes,
Or mix among the Senate of the Gods?
Shall I not think, that, with disorder’d Charms,
All Heav’n beholds me recent from thy Arms?
With Skill divine has Vulcan form’d thy Bow’r,
Sacred to Love and to the genial Hour;
If such thy Will, to that Recess retire,
And secret there indulge thy soft Desire.
She ceas’d, and smiling with superior Love,
Thus answer’d mild the Cloud-compelling Jove.
Nor God, nor Mortal shall our Joys behold,
Shaded with Clouds, and circumfus’d in Gold,
Not ev’n the Sun, who darts thro’ Heav’n his Rays,
And whose broad Eye th’ extended Earth surveys.
Gazing he spoke, and kindling at the view,
His eager Arms around the Goddess threw.
Glad Earth perceives, and from her Bosom pours
Unbidden Herbs, and voluntary Flow’rs;
Thick new-born Vi’lets a soft Carpet spread,
And clust’ring Lotos swell’d the rising Bed,
And sudden Hyacinths the Turf bestrow,
And flamy Crocus made the Mountain glow.
400There golden Clouds conceal the heav’nly Pair,
Steep’d in soft Joys, and circumfus’d with Air;
Celestial Dews, descending o’er the Ground,
Perfume the Mount, and breathe Ambrosia round.
At length with Love and Sleep’s soft Pow’r opprest,
The panting Thund’rer nods, and sinks to Rest.
Now to the Navy born on silent Wings,
To Neptune’s Ear soft Sleep his Message brings;
Beside him sudden, unperceiv’d he stood,
And thus with gentle Words address’d the God.
Now, Neptune! now, th’ important Hour employ,
To check a while the haughty Hopes of Troy:
While Jove yet rests, while yet my Vapours shed
The golden Vision round his sacred Head;
For Juno’s Love, and Somnus’ pleasing Ties,
Have clos’d those awful and eternal Eyes.
Thus having said, the Pow’r of Slumber flew,
On human Lids to drop the balmy Dew.
Neptune, with Zeal encreas’d, renews his Care,
And tow’ring in the foremost Ranks of War,
Indignant thus—Oh once of martial Fame!
O Greeks! if yet ye can deserve the Name!
This half-recover’d Day shall Troy obtain?
Shall Hector thunder at your Ships again?
Lo still he vaunts, and threats the Fleet with Fires,
While stern Achilles in his Wrath retires.
One Hero’s Loss too tamely you deplore,
Be still your selves, and we shall need no more.
Oh yet, if Glory any Bosom warms,
Brace on your firmest Helms, and stand to Arms:
His strongest Spear each valiant Grecian wield,
Each valiant Grecian seize his broadest Shield;
Let, to the weak, the lighter Arms belong,
The pond’rous Targe be wielded by the strong.
(Thus arm’d) not Hector shall our Presence stay;
My self, ye Greeks! my self will lead the way.
The Troops assent; their martial Arms they change,
The busy Chiefs their banded Legions range.
The Kings, tho’ wounded, and oppress’d with Pain,
With helpful Hands themselves assist the Train.
The strong and cumb’rous Arms the valiant wield,
The weaker Warrior takes a lighter Shield.
Thus sheath’d in shining Brass, in bright Array,
The Legions march, and Neptune leads the way:
His brandish’d Faulchion flames before their Eyes,
Like Light’ning flashing thro’ the frighted Skies.
Clad in his Might th’ Earth-shaking Pow’r appears;
Pale Mortals tremble, and confess their Fears.
Troy’s great Defender stands alone unaw’d,
Arms his proud Host, and dares oppose a God:
450And lo! the God, and wond’rous Man appear;
The Sea’s great Ruler there, and Hector here.
The roaring Main, at her great Master’s Call,
Rose in huge Ranks, and form’d a watry Wall
Around the Ships: Seas hanging o’er the Shores,
Both Armies join: Earth thunders, Ocean roars.
Not half so loud the bellowing Deeps resound,
When stormy Winds disclose the dark Profound;
Less loud the Winds, that from th’ Aeolian Hall
Roar thro’ the Woods, and make whole Forests fall;
Less loud the Woods, when Flames in Torrents pour,
Catch the dry Mountain, and its Shades devour.
With such a Rage the meeting Hosts are driv’n,
And such a Clamour shakes the sounding Heav’n.
The first bold Javelin urg’d by Hector’s Force,
Direct at Ajax’ Bosom wing’d its Course;
But there no Pass the crossing Belts afford,
(One brac’d his Shield, and one sustain’d his Sword.)
Then back the disappointed Trojan drew,
And curs’d the Lance that unavailing flew:
But ’scap’d not Ajax; his tempestuous Hand
A pond’rous Stone up-heaving from the Sand,
(Where Heaps lay’d loose beneath the Warrior’s Feet,
Or serv’d to ballast, or to prop the Fleet)
Toss’d round and round, the missive Marble flings;
On the raz’d Shield the falling Ruin rings:
Full on his Breast and Throat with Force descends;
Nor deaden’d there its giddy Fury spends,
But whirling on, with many a fiery round,
Smoaks in the Dust, and ploughs into the Ground.
As when the Bolt, red-hissing from above,
Darts on the consecrated Plant of Jove,
The Mountain-Oak in flaming Ruin lies,
Black from the Blow, and Smoaks of Sulphur rise;
Stiff with Amaze the pale Beholders stand,
And own the Terrors of th’ Almighty Hand!
So lies great Hector prostrate on the Shore;
His slacken’d Hand deserts the Lance it bore;
His following Shield the fallen Chief o’erspread;
Beneath his Helmet drop’d his fainting Head;
His Load of Armour, sinking to the Ground,
Clanks on the Field; a dead, and hollow Sound.
Loud Shouts of Triumph fill the crowded Plain;
Greece sees, in hope, Troy’s great Defender slain:
All spring to seize him; Storms of Arrows fly;
And thicker Javelins intercept the Sky.
In vain an Iron Tempest hisses round;
He lies protected, and without a Wound.
Polydamas, Agenor the divine,
The pious Warrior of Anchises’ Line,
500And each bold Leader of the Lycian Band;
With cov’ring Shields (a friendly Circle) stand.
His mournful Followers with assistant Care,
The groaning Hero to his Chariot bear;
His foaming Coursers, swifter than the Wind,
Speed to the Town, and leave the War behind.
When now they touch’d the Mead’s enamel’d Side,
Where gentle Xanthus rolls his easy Tyde,
With watry Drops the Chief they sprinkle round,
Plac’d on the Margin of the flow’ry Ground.
Rais’d on his Knees, he now ejects the Gore;
Now faints anew, low-sinking on the Shore;
By fits he breathes, half views the fleeting Skies,
And seals again, by fits, his swimming Eyes.
Soon as the Greeks the Chief’s Retreat beheld,
With double Fury each invades the Field.
Oïlean Ajax first his Javelin sped,
Pierc’d by whose Point, the Son of Enops bled;
( Satnius the brave, whom beauteous Neis bore
Amidst her Flocks on Satnio’s silver Shore)
Struck thro’ the Belly’s Rim, the Warrior lies
Supine, and Shades eternal veil his Eyes.
An arduous Battel rose around the dead;
By turns the Greeks, by turns the Trojans bled.
Fir’d with Revenge, Polydamas drew near,
And at Prothoenor shook the trembling Spear;
The driving Javelin thro’ his Shoulder thrust,
He sinks to Earth, and grasps the bloody Dust.
Lo thus (the Victor cries) we rule the Field,
And thus their Arms the Race of Panthus wield:
From this unerring Hand there flies no Dart
But bathes its Point within a Grecian Heart.
Propt on that Spear to which thou ow’st thy Fall,
Go, guide thy darksome Steps, to Pluto’s dreary Hall!
He said, and Sorrow touch’d each Argive Breast:
The Soul of Ajax burn’d above the rest.
As by his side the groaning Warrior fell,
At the fierce Foe he launch’d his piercing Steel;
The Foe reclining, shunn’d the flying Death;
But Fate, Archelochus, demands thy Breath:
Thy lofty Birth no Succour could impart,
The Wings of Death o’ertook thee on the Dart,
Swift to perform Heav’n’s fatal Will it fled,
Full on the Juncture of the Neck and Head,
And took the Joint, and cut the Nerves in twain:
The dropping Head first tumbled to the Plain.
So just the Stroke, that yet the Body stood
Erect, then roll’d along the Sands in Blood.
Here, proud Polydamas, here turn thy Eyes!
(The tow’ring Ajax loud-insulting cries)
550Say, is this Chief, extended on the Plain,
A worthy Vengeance for Prothoenor slain?
Mark well his Port! his Figure and his Face
Nor speak him vulgar, nor of vulgar Race;
Some Lines, methinks, may make his Lineage known,
Antenor’s Brother, or perhaps his Son.
He spake, and smil’d severe, for well he knew
The bleeding Youth: Troy sadden’d at the View.
But furious Acamas aveng’d his Cause;
As Promachus his slaughter’d Brother draws,
He pierc’d his Heart—Such Fate attends you all,
Proud Argives! destin’d by our Arms to fall.
Not Troy alone, but haughty Greece shall share
The Toils, the Sorrows, and the Wounds of War.
Behold your Promachus depriv’d of Breath,
A Victim ow’d to my brave Brother’s Death.
Not unappeas’d, He enters Pluto’s Gate,
Who leaves a Brother to revenge his Fate.
Heart-piercing Anguish struck the Grecian Host,
But touch’d the Breast of bold Peneleus most:
At the proud Boaster he directs his Course;
The Boaster flies, and shuns superior Force.
But young Ilioneus receiv’d the Spear,
Ilioneus, his Father’s only Care:
( Phorbas the rich, of all the Trojan Train
Whom Hermes lov’d, and taught the Arts of Gain)
Full in his Eye the Weapon chanc’d to fall,
And from the Fibres scoop’d the rooted Ball,
Drove thro’ the Neck, and hurl’d him to the Plain;
He lifts his miserable Arms in vain!
Swift his broad Faulchion fierce Peneleus spread,
And from the spouting Shoulders struck his Head;
To Earth at once the Head and Helmet fly;
The Lance, yet sticking thro’ the bleeding Eye,
The Victor seiz’d; and as aloft he shook
The goary Visage, thus insulting spoke.
Trojans! your great Ilioneus behold!
Haste, to his Father let the Tale be told:
Let his high Roofs resound with frantic Woe,
Such, as the House of Promachus must know;
Let doleful Tidings greet his Mother’s Ear,
Such, as to Promachus’ sad Spouse we bear;
When we, victorious, shall to Greece return,
And the pale Matron in our Triumphs mourn.
Dreadful he spoke, then toss’d the Head on high;
The Trojans hear, they tremble, and they fly:
Aghast they gaze, around the Fleet and Wall,
And dread the Ruin that impends on all.
Daughters of Jove! that on Olympus shine,
Ye all-beholding, all-recording Nine!
600O say, when Neptune made proud Ilion yield,
What Chief, what Hero first embru’d the Field?
Of all the Grecians, what immortal Name,
And whose blest Trophies, will ye raise to Fame?
Thou first, great Ajax! on th’ ensanguin’d Plain
Laid Hyrtius, Leader of the Mysian Train.
Phalces and Mermer, Nestor’s Son o’erthrew.
Bold Merion, Morys and Hippotion slew.
Strong Periphaetes and Prothoön bled,
By Teucer’s Arrows mingled with the dead.
Pierc’d in the Flank by Menelaus’ Steel,
His People’s Pastor, Hyperenor fell;
Eternal Darkness wrapt the Warrior round,
And the fierce Soul came rushing thro’ the Wound.
But stretch’d in heaps before Oïleus’ Son,
Fall mighty Numbers; mighty Numbers run;
Ajax the less, of all the Grecian Race
Skill’d in Pursuit, and swiftest in the Chace.
Ce tissu, le simbole, & la cause à la sois,
Du pouvoir d’l’Amour, du charme de ses loix.
Elle enflamme les yeux, de cet Ardeur qui touche;
D’un sourire enchanteur, elle anime la bouche;
Passionne la voix, en adoucit les sons,
Prête ces tours heureux, plus forts que les raisons;
Inspire, pour toucher, ces tendres stratagêmes,
Ces resus attirans, l’ecueil des sages mêmes.
Et la nature enfin, y voulut rensermer,
Tout ce qui persuade, & ce qui fait aimer.
En prenant ce tissu, que Venus lui presente,
Junon n’etoit que belle, elle devient charmante.
Les graces, & les ris, les plaisirs, & les jeux,
Surpris cherchent Venus, doutent qui l’est des deux.
L’Amour même trompè, trouve Junon plus belle;
Et son Arc à la main, deja vole après elle.
For never did thy Beauty since the Day
I saw thee first, and wedded thee, adorn’d
With all Perfections, so enflame my Sense,
With Ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now
Than ever; Bounty of this virtuous Tree!
So said he, and forbore not Glance or Toy
Of amorous Intent, well understood
Of Eve, whose Eye darted contagious Fire.
Her Hand he seiz’d, and to a shady Bank
Thick over-head with verdant Roof embow’r’d,
He led her, nothing loath: Flow’rs were the Couch,
Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel,
And Hyacinth; Earth’s freshest, softest Lap.
There they their Fill of Love and Love’s Disport
Took largely, of their mutual Guilt the Seal;
The Solace of their Sin, till dewy Sleep
650Oppress’d them, weary of their amorous Play.
Observations on the 14th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
Note I.
THE Poet, to advance the Character of Nestor, and give us a due Esteem for his Conduct and Circumspection, represents him as deeply sollicitous for the common Good: In the very Article of Mirth or Relaxation from the Toils of War, he is all Attention to learn the Fate and Issue of the Battel: And through his long Use and Skill in martial Events, he judges from the Quality of the Uproar still encreasing, that the Fortune of the Day is held no longer in suspense, but inclines to one side. Eustathius.
Note II.
VERSE 1. But nor the Genial Feast. ]
At the end of the 11 th Book we left Nestor at the Table with Machaon. The Attack of the Entrenchments, describ’d thro’ the 12 th and 13 th Books, happen’d while Nestor and Machaon sate at the Table; nor is there any Improbability herein, since there is nothing perform’d in those two Books, but what might naturally happen in the Space of two Hours. Homer constantly follows the Thread of his Narration, and never suffers his Reader to forget the Train of Action, or the time it employs. Dacier.
Note III.
VERSE 10. Let Hecamede the Bath prepare. ]
The Custom of Women officiating to Men in the Bath was usual in ancient Times. Examples are frequent in the Odysseis. And it is not at all more odd, or to be sneer’d at, than the Custom now us’d in France, of Valets de Chambres dressing and undressing Ladies.
Note IV.
VERSE 21. As when old Ocean’s silent Surface sleeps. ]
There are no where more finish’d Pictures of Nature, than those which Homer draws in several of his Comparisons. The Beauty however of some of these will be lost to many, who cannot perceive the Resemblance, having never had Opportunity to observe the things themselves. The Life of this Description will be most sensible to those who have been at Sea in a Calm: In this Condition the Water is not entirely motionless, but swells gently in smooth Waves, which fluctuate backwards and forwards in a kind of balancing Motion: This State continues till a rising Wind gives a Determination to the Waves, and rolls ’em one certain way. There is scarce any thing in the whole Compass of Nature that can more exactly represent the State of an irresolute Mind, wavering between two different Designs, sometimes inclining to the one, sometimes to the other, and then moving to the Point to which its Resolution is at last determin’d. Every Circumstance of this Comparison is both beautiful and just; and it is the more to be admir’d, because it is very difficult to find sensible Images proper to represent the Motions of the Mind; wherefore we but rarely meet with such Comparisons even in the best Poets. There is one of great Beauty in Virgil, upon a Subject very like this, where he compares his Hero’s Mind, agitated with a great Variety and quick Succession of Thoughts, to a dancing Light reflected from a Vessel of Water in Motion.
Cuncta videns, magno curarum fluctuat aestu, Atque animum, nunc huc, celerem, nunc dividit illuc, In partes{que} rapit varias, perque omnia versat. Sicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis Sole repercussum, aut radiantis imagine lunae, Omnia pervolitat latè loca; jamque sub auras Erigitur, summique ferit laquearia tecti. Aen. l. 8. ℣. 19.
Note V.
VERSE 30. He fixes on the last. ]
Nestor appears in this Place a great Friend to his Prince; for upon deliberating whether he should go through the Body of the Grecian Host, or else repair to Agamemnon’s Tent; he determines at last, and judges it the best way to go to the latter. Now because it had been ill concerted to have made a Man of his Age walk a great way round about in quest of his Commander, Homer has order’d it so that he should meet Agamemnon in his way thither. And nothing could be better imagin’d than the reason, why the wounded Princes left their Tents; they were impatient to behold the Battel, anxious for its Success, and desirous to inspirit the Soldiers by their Presence. The Poet was obliged to give a reason; for in Epic Poetry, as well as in Dramatic, no Person ought to be introduced without some Necessity, or at least some Probability, for his Appearance. Eustathius.
Note VI.
VERSE 39. Their Ships at distance, &c.]
Homer being always careful to distinguish each Scene of Action, gives a very particular Description of the Station of the Ships, shewing in what manner they lay drawn up on the Land. This he had only hinted at before; but here taking occasion on the wounded Heroes coming from their Ships, which were at a distance from the Fight (while others were engag’d in the Defence of those Ships where the Wall was broke down) he tells us, that the Shore of the Bay (comprehended between the Rhaetean and Sigaean Promontories) was not sufficient to contain the Ships in one Line; which they were therefore obliged to draw up in Ranks, ranged in parallel Lines along the Shore. How many of these Lines there were, the Poet does not determine. M. Dacier, without giving any reason for her Opinion, says they were but two; one advanced near the Wall, the other on the Verge of the Sea. But it is more than probable, that there were several intermediate Lines; since the Order in which the Vessels lay is here describ’d by a Metaphor taken from the Steps of a Scaling-Ladder; which had been no way proper to give an Image only of two Ranks, but very fit to represent a greater, tho’ undetermin’d Number. That there were more than two Lines, may likewise be inferr’d from what we find in the beginning of the 11 th Book; where it is said, that the Voice of Discord, standing on the Ship of Ulysses, in the middle of the Fleet, was heard as far as the Stations of Achilles and Ajax, whose Ships were drawn up in the two Extremities: Those of Ajax were nearest the Wall (as is expresly said in the 68 th Verse of the 13 th Book) and those of Achilles nearest the Sea, as appears from many Passages scatter’d thro’ the Iliad.
It must be suppos’d, that those Ships were drawn highest upon Land, which first approached the Shore; the first Line therefore consisted of those who first disembark’d, which were the Ships of Ajax and Protesilaus; the latter of whom seems mention’d in the Verse above cited of the 13 th Book, only to give occasion to observe this, for he was slain as he landed first of the Greeks. And accordingly we shall see in the 15 th Book, it is his Ship that is first attack’d by the Trojans, as it lay the nearest to them.
We may likewise guess how it happens, that the Ships of Achilles were plac’d nearest to the Sea; for in the Answer of Achilles to Ulysses in the 9 th Book, ℣. 328. he mentions a Naval Expedition he had made while Agamemnon lay safe in the Camp: So that his Ships at their Return did naturally lie next the Sea; which, without this Consideration, might appear a Station not so becoming this Hero’s Courage.
Note VII.
VERSE 47. Nestor ’s Approach alarm’d. ]
That so laborious a Person as Nestor has been described, so indefatigable, so little indulgent of his extreme Age, and one that never receded from the Battel, should approach to meet them; this it was that struck the Princes with Amazement, when they saw he had left the Field. Eustathius.
Note VIII.
VERSE 81. Cease we at length, &c.]
Agamemnon either does not know what Course to take in this Distress, or only sounds the Sentiments of his Nobles (as he did in the second Book of the whole Army.) He delivers himself first after Nestor’s Speech, as it became a Counseller to do. But knowing this Advice to be dishonourable, and unsuitable to the Character he assumes elsewhere, [Greek]&c. and considering that he should do no better than abandon his Post, when before he had threaten’d the Deserters with Death; he reduces his Counsel into the Form of a Proverb, disguising it as handsomly as he can under a Sentence. It is better to avoid an Evil, &c. It is observable too how he has qualify’d the Expression: He does not say, to shun the Battel, for that had been unsoldierly, but he softens the Phrase, and calls it, to shun Evil: And this word Evil he applies twice together, in advising them to leave the Engagement.
It is farther remark’d, that this was the noblest Opportunity for a General to try the Temper of his Officers; for he knew that in a Calm of Affairs, it was common with most People either out of Flattery or Respect to submit to their Leaders: But in imminent Danger, Fear does not bribe them, but every one discovers his very Soul, valuing all other Considerations, in regard to his Safety, but in the second Place. He knew the Men he spoke to were prudent Persons, and not easy to cast themselves into a precipitate Flight. He might likewise have a mind to recommend himself to his Army by the means of his Officers; which he was not very able to do of himself, angry as they were at him, for the Affront he had offer’d Achilles, and by Consequence thinking him the Author of all their present Calamities. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 92. Oh were thy Sway the Curse of meaner Pow’rs, And thou the Shame of any Host but ours. ]
This is a noble Complement to his Country and to the Grecian Army, to shew that it was an Impossibility for them to follow even their General in any thing that was cowardly, or shameful; tho’ the Lives and Safeties of ’em all were concern’d in it.
Note X.
VERSE 104. And comes it ev’n from him whose sov’reign Sway The banded Legions of all Greece obey? ]
As who should say, that another Man might indeed have utter’d the same Advice, but it could not be a Person of Prudence; or if he had Prudence, he could not be a Governour, but a private Man; or if a Governour, yet one who had not a welldisciplin’d and obedient Army; or lastly, if he had an Army so condition’d, yet it could not be so large and numerous an one as that of Agamemnon. This is a fine Climax, and of a wonderful Strength. Eustathius.
Note XI.
VERSE 118. Whoe’er, or young, or old, &c.]
This nearly resembles an ancient Custom at Athens, where in Times of Trouble and Distress, every one, of what Age or Quality soever, was invited to give in his Opinion with Freedom by the publick Cryer. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 120.] This Speech of Diomed is naturally introduced, beginning with an Answer, as if he had been call’d upon to give his Advice. The Counsel he proposes was that alone which could be of any real Service in their present Exigency: However since he ventures to advise where Ulysses is at a Loss, and Nestor himself silent, he thinks it proper to apologize for this Liberty by reminding them of his Birth and Descent, hoping thence to add to his Counsel a Weight and Authority which he could not from his Years and Experience. It can’t indeed be deny’d that this historical Digression seems more out of Season than any of the same kind which we so frequently meet with in Homer, since his Birth and Parentage must have been sufficiently known to all at the Siege, as he here tells them. This must be own’d a Defect not altogether to be excus’d in the Poet, but which may receive some Alleviation, if consider’d as a Fault of Temperament. For he had certainly a strong Inclination to genealogical Stories, and too frequently takes occasion to gratify this Humour.
Note XIII.
VERSE 135. He fled to Argos.]
This is a very artful Colour: He calls the Flight of his Father for killing one of his Brothers, travelling and dwelling at Argos, without mentioning the Cause and Occasion of his Retreat. What immediately follows (so Jove ordain’d) does not only contain in it a Disguise of his Crime, but is a just Motive likewise for our Compassion. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 146. Let each go forth and animate the rest. ]
It is worth a Remark, with what Management and Discretion the Poet has brought these four Kings, and no more, towards the Engagement, since these are sufficient alone to perform all that he requires. For Nestor proposes to them to enquire, if there be any way or means which Prudence can direct for their Security. Agamemnon attempts to discover that Method. Ulysses refutes him as one whose Method was dishonourable, but proposes no other Project. Diomed supplies that Deficiency, and shews what must be done: That wounded as they are, they should go forth to the Battel; for tho’ they were not able to engage, yet their Presence would re-establish their Affairs by detaining in Arms those who might otherwise quit the Field. This Counsel is embrac’d, and readily obey’d by the rest. Eustathius.
Note XV.
VERSE 179. The Story of Jupiter and Juno.]
I don’t know a bolder Fiction in all Antiquity, than this of Jupiter’s being deceiv’d and laid asleep, or that has a greater Air of Impiety and Absurdity. ’Tis an Observation of Mons. de St. Evremond upon the ancient Poets, which every one will agree to;
"that it is surprizing enough to find them so scrupulous to preserve Probability, in Actions purely human; and so ready to violate it, in representing the Actions of the Gods. Even those who have spoken more sagely than the rest, of their Nature, could not forbear to speak extravagantly of their Conduct. When they establish their Being and their Attributes, they make them immortal, infinite, almighty, perfectly wise, and perfectly good: But the Moment they represent them acting, there’s no Weakness to which they do not make ’em stoop, and no Folly or Wickedness they do not make ’em commit."
The same Author answers this in another Place by remarking,
"that Truth was not the Inclination of the first Ages: A foolish Lye or a lucky Falshood gave Reputation to Impostors, and Pleasure to the credulous. ’Twas the whole Secret of the great and the wise to govern the simple and ignorant Herd. The vulgar, who pay a profound Reverence to mysterious Errors, would have despised plain Truth, and it was thought a piece of Prudence to deceive them. All the Discourses of
the Ancients were fitted to so advantagious a Design. There was nothing to be seen but Fictions, Allegories, and Similitudes, and nothing was to appear as it was in itself."
I must needs, upon the whole, as far as I can judge, give up the Morality of this Fable; but what Colour of Excuse for it Homer might have from ancient Tradition, or what mystical or allegorical Sense might attone for the appearing Impiety, is hard to be ascertain’d at this distant Period of Time. That there had been before his Age a Tradition of Jupiter’s being laid asleep, appears from the Story of Hercules at Coos, referr’d to by our Author, ℣. 285. There is also a Passage in Diodorus, lib. 1. c. 7. which gives some small Light to this Fiction. Among other Reasons which that Historian lays down to prove that Homer travell’d into Egypt, he alledges this Passage of the Interview of Jupiter and Juno, which he says was grounded upon an Egyptian Festival, whereon the nuptial Ceremonies of these two Deities were celebrated, at which time both their Tabernacles, adorned with all sorts of Flowers, are carry’d by the Priests to the top of a high Mountain. Indeed as the greatest Part of the Ceremonies of the ancient Religions consisted in some symbolical Representations of certain Actions of their Gods, or rather deify’d Mortals, so a great part of ancient Poetry consisted in the Description of the Actions exhibited in these Ceremonies. The Loves of Venus and Adonis are a remarkable Instance of this kind, which, tho’ under different Names, were celebrated by annual Representations, as well in Egypt as in several Nations of Greece and Asia: and to the Images which were carry’d in these Festivals, several ancient Poets were indebted for their most happy Descriptions. If the Truth of this Observation of Diodorus be admitted, the present Passage will appear with more Dignity, being grounded on Religion; and the Conduct of the Poet will be more justifiable, if that, which has been generally accounted an indecent wanton Fiction, should prove to be the Representation of a religious Solemnity. Considering the great Ignorance we are in of many ancient superstitious Ceremonies, there may be probably in Homer many Incidents entirely of this Nature; wherefore we ought to be reserv’d in our Censures, lest what we decry as wrong in the Poet, should prove only a Fault in his Religion. And indeed it would be a very unfair way to tax any People, or any Age whatever, with Grossness in general, purely from the gross or absurd Ideas or Practices that are to be found in their Religions.
In the next Place, if we have recourse to Allegory, (which softens and reconciles every thing) it may be imagin’d that by the Congress of Jupiter and Juno, is meant the mingling of the Aether and the Air (which are generally said to be signify’d by these two Deities.) The Ancients believ’d the Aether to be Igneous, and that by its kind Influence upon the Air it was the Cause of all Vegetation: To which nothing more exactly corresponds, than the Fiction of the Earth putting forth her Flowers immediately upon this Congress. Virgil has some Lines in the second Georgic, that seem a perfect Explanation of the Fable into this Sense. In describing the Spring, he hints as if something of a vivifying Influence was at that time spread from the upper Heavens into the Air. He calls Jupiter expresly Aether, and represents him operating upon his Spouse for the Production of all things.
Tum pater omnipotens foecundis imbribus aether Conjugis in gremio laetae descendit, & omnes Magnus alit, magno commixtus corpore, foetus. Parturit omnis ager, &c.
But, be all this as it will, it is certain, that whatever may be thought of this Fable in a theological or philosophical View, it is one of the most beautiful Pieces that ever was produc’d by Poetry. Neither does it want its Moral; an ingenious modern Writer (whom I am pleas’d to take any occasion of quoting) has given it us in these Words.
"This Passage of Homer may suggest abundance of Instruction to a Woman who has a mind to preserve or recall the Affection of her Husband. The Care of her Person and Dress, with the particular Blandishments woven in the Cestus, are so plainly recommended by this Fable,
and so indispensably necessary in every Female who desires to please, that they need no farther Explanation. The Discretion likewise in covering all matrimonial Quarrels from the Knowledge of others, is taught in the pretended Visit to Tethys, in the Speech where Juno addresses herself to Venus; as the chaste and prudent Management of a Wife’s Charms is intimated by the same Pretence for her appearing before Jupiter, and by the Concealment of the Cestus in her Bosom. I shall leave this Tale to the Consideration of such good Houswives who are never well dress’d but when they are abroad, and think it necessary to appear more agreeable to all Men living than their Husbands: As also to those prudent Ladies, who, to avoid the Appearance of being over-fond, entertain their Husbands with Indifference, Aversion, sullen Silence, or exasperating Language."
Note XVI.
VERSE 191. Swift to her bright Apartment she repairs, &c.]
This Passage may be of Consideration to the Ladies, and, for their sakes, I take a little Pains to observe upon it. Homer tells us that the very Goddesses, who are all over Charms, never dress in Sight of any one: The Queen of Heaven adorns herself in private, and the Doors lock after her. In Homer there are no Dieux des Ruelles, no Gods are admitted to the Toilette.
I am afraid there are some earthly Goddesses of less Prudence, who have lost much of the Adoration of Mankind by the contrary Practice. Lucretius (a very good Judge in Gallantry) prescribes as a Cure to a desperate Lover, the frequent Sight of his Mistress undress’d. Juno herself has suffer’d a little by the very Muse’s peeping into her Chamber, since some nice Criticks are shock’d in this Place of Homer to find that the Goddess washes herself, which presents some Idea as if she was dirty. Those who have Delicacy will profit by this Remark.
Note XVII.
VERSE 198. Soft Oils of Fragrance. ]
The Practice of Juno in anointing her Body with perfumed Oils was a remarkable part of ancient Cosmeticks, tho’ entirely disused in the modern Arts of Dress. It may possibly offend the Niceness of modern Ladies; but they who paint so artificially ought to consider that this Practice might, without much greater Difficulty, be reconciled to Cleanliness. This Passage is a clear Instance of the Antiquity of this Custom, and clearly determines against Pliny, who is of Opinion that it was not so ancient as those times, where, speaking of perfum’d Unguents, he says, Quis primus invenerit non traditur; Iliacis temporibus non erant. lib. 13. c. 1. Besides the Custom of anointing Kings among the Jews, which the Christians have borrow’d, there are several Allusions in the Old Testament which shew that this Practice was thought ornamental among them. The Psalmist, speaking of the Gifts of God, mentions Wine and Oil, the former to make glad the Heart of Man, and the latter to give him a chearful Countenance. It seems most probable that this was an Eastern Invention, agreeable to the Luxury of the Asiaticks, among whom the most proper Ingredients for these Unguents were produc’d; from them this Custom was propagated among the Romans, by whom it was esteem’d a Pleasure of a very refin’d Nature. Whoever is curious to see Instances of their Expence and Delicacy therein, may be satisfy’d in the three first Chapters of the thirteenth Book of Pliny’s Natural History.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 203. Thus while she breath’d of Heav’n, &c.]
We have here a compleat Picture from Head to Foot of the Dress of the Fair Sex, and of the Mode between two and three thousand Years ago. May I have leave to observe the great Simplicity of Juno’s Dress, in Comparison with the innumerable Equipage of a modern Toilette? The Goddess, even when she is setting herself out on the greatest Occasion, has only her own Locks to tie, a white Veil to cast over them, a Mantle to dress her whole Body, her Pendants, and her Sandals. This the Poet expresly says was all her Dress, [ [Greek];] and one may reasonably conclude it was all that was used by the greatest Princesses and finest Beauties of those Times. The good Eustathius is ravish’d to find, that here are no Washes for the Face, no Dies for the Hair, and none of those artificial Embellishments since in Practice; he also rejoices not a little, that Juno has no Looking-Glass, Tire-Woman, or waiting Maid. One may preach till Doomsday on this Subject, but all the Commentators in the World will never prevail upon a Lady to stick one Pin the less in her Gown, except she can be convinced, that the ancient Dress will better set off her Person.
As the Asiaticks always surpass’d the Grecians in whatever regarded Magnificence and Luxury, so we find their Women far gone in the contrary Extreme of Dress. There is a Passage in Isaiah, Ch. 3. that gives us a Particular of their Wardrobe, with the Number and Uselessness of their Ornaments; and which I think appears very well in Contrast to this of Homer. The Bravery of their tinkling Ornaments about their Feet, and their Cauls, and their round Tires like the Moon: The Chains, and the Bracelets, and the Mufflers, the Bonnets, and the Ornaments of the Legs, and the Headbands, and the Tablets, and the Ear-rings, the Rings and Nose-jewels, the changeable Suits of Apparel, and the Mantles, and the Wimples, and the Crisping-Pins, the Glasses, and the fine Linen, and the Hoods, and the Veils. I could be glad to ask the Ladies, which they should like best to imitate, the Greeks, or the Asiaticks? I would desire those that are handsome and well-made, to consider, that the Dress of Juno (which is the same they see in Statues ) has manifestly the Advantage of the present, in displaying whatever is beautiful: That the Charms of the Neck and Breast are not less laid open, than by the modern Stays; and that those of the Leg are more gracefully discover’d, than even by the Hoop-petticoat: That the fine Turn of the Arms is better observ’d: and that several natural Graces of the Shape and Body appear much more conspicuous. It is not to be deny’d but the Asiatic and our present Modes were better contriv’d to conceal some People’s Defects, but I don’t speak to such People: I speak only to Ladies of that Beauty, who can make any Fashion prevail by their being seen in it; and who put others of their Sex under the wretched Necessity of being like them in their Habits, or not being like them at all. As for the rest, let ’em follow the Mode of Judaea, and be content with the Name of Asiaticks.
Note XIX.
VERSE 216. Thus issuing radiant, &c.]
Thus the Goddess comes from her Apartment against her Spouse in compleat Armour. The Pleasures of Women mostly prevail upon us by pure cunning, and the artful Management of their Persons; against which a wise Man ought to be upon his guard: For there is but one way for the weak to subdue the mighty, and that is by Pleasure. The Poet shews at the same time, that Men of Understanding are not master’d, without a great deal of Artifice and Address. There are but three ways, whereby to overcome another, by Violence, by Persuasion, or by Craft: Jupiter was invincible by main Force; to think of persuading was as fruitless, after he had pass’d his Nod to Achilles; therefore Juno was obliged of necessity to turn her Thoughts entirely upon Craft; and by the Force of Pleasure it is, that she insnares and manages the God. Eustathius.
Note XX.
VERSE 218. And calls the Mother of the Smiles and Loves.]
Notwithstanding all the Pains Juno has been at, to adorn herself, she is still conscious that neither the natural Beauty of her Person, nor the artificial one of her Dress, will be sufficient to work upon a Husband. She therefore has Recourse to the Cestus of Venus, as a kind of Love-charm, not doubting to enflame his Mind by magical Enchantment; a Folly which in all Ages has possest her Sex. To procure this, she applies to the Goddess of Love; from whom hiding her real Design under a feign’d Story, (another Propriety in the Character of the Fair) she obtains the invaluable Present of this wonder-working Girdle. The Allegory of the Cestus lies very open, tho’ the Impertinences of Eustathius on this Head are unspeakable. In it are comprized the most powerful Incentives to Love, as well as the strongest Effects of the Passion. The just Admiration of this Passage has been a-l+ways so great and universal, that the Cestus of Venus is become proverbial. The Beauty of the Lines which in a few Words comprehend this agreeable Fiction, can scarce be equall’d. So beautiful an Original has produc’d very fine Imitations, wherein we may observe a few additional Figures, expressing some of the Improvements which the Affectation, or Artifice, of the Fair Sex have introduc’d into the Art of Love since Homer’s Days. Tasso has finely imitated this Description in the magical Girdle of Armida. Gierusalemme liberata, Cant. 16.
Teneri Sdegni, e placide e tranquille Repulse, e cari vezzi, e liete paci, Sorrisi, parrolette, e dolci stille Di pianto, e sospir tronchi, e molli baci.
Mons. de la Motte’s Imitation of this Fiction is likewise wonderfully beautiful.
Ce tissu, le simbole, & la cause à la sois, Du pouvoir d’l’Amour, du charme de ses loix. Elle enflamme les yeux, de cet Ardeur qui touche; D’un sourire enchanteur, elle anime la bouche; Passionne la voix, en adoucit les sons, Prête ces tours heureux, plus forts que les raisons; Inspire, pour toucher, ces tendres stratagêmes, Ces resus attirans, l’ecueil des sages mêmes. Et la nature enfin, y voulut rensermer, Tout ce qui persuade, & ce qui fait aimer.
En prenant ce tissu, que Venus lui presente, Junon n’etoit que belle, elle devient charmante. Les graces, & les ris, les plaisirs, & les jeux, Surpris cherchent Venus, doutent qui l’est des deux. L’Amour même trompè, trouve Junon plus belle; Et son Arc à la main, deja vole après elle.
Spencer, in his 4 th Book, Canto 5. describes a Girdle of Venus of a very different Nature; for as this had the Power to raise up loose Desires in others, that had a more wonderful Faculty to suppress them in the Person that wore it: But it had a most dreadful Quality, to burst asunder whenever tied about any but a chaste Bosom. Such a Girdle, ’tis to be fear’d, would produce Essects very different from the other: Homer’s Cestus would be a Peace-maker to reconcile Man and Wife; but Spencer’s Cestus would probably destroy the good Agreement of many a happy Couple.
Note XXI.
VERSE 255. —And prest The pow’rful Cestus to her snowy Breast. ]
Eustathius takes notice, that the word Cestus is not the Name, but Epithet only, of Venus’s Girdle; tho’ the Epithet has prevail’d so far as to become the proper Name in common use. This has happen’d to others of our Author’s Epithets; the word Pygmy is of the same Nature. Venus wore this Girdle below her Neck, and in open Sight, but Juno hides it in her Bosom, to shew the difference of the two Characters: It suits well with Venus to make a Shew of whatever is engaging in her; but Juno, who is a Matron of Prudence and Gravity, ought to be more modest.
Note XXII.
VERSE 263. She speeds to Lemnos o’er the rolling Deep, And seeks the Cave of Death’s Half-brother, Sleep.]
In this Fiction Homer introduces a new divine Personage: It does not appear whether this God of Sleep was a God of Homer’s Creation, or whether his Pretensions to Divinity were of more ancient Date. The Poet indeed speaks of him as of one formerly active in some heavenly Transactions. Be this as it will, succeeding Poets have always acknowledg’d his Title. Virgil would not let his Aeneid be without a Person so proper for poetical Machinery; tho’ he has employ’d him with much less Art than his great Master, since he appears in the 5 th Book without Provocation or Commission, only to destroy the Trojan Pilot. The Criticks, who cannot see all the Allegories which the Commentators pretend to find in Homer’s Divinities, must be obliged to acknowledge the Reality and Propriety of this; since every thing that is here said of this imaginary Deity is justly applicable to Sleep. He is called the Brother of Death; is said to be protected by Night; and is employed very naturally to lull a Husband to Rest in the Embraces of his Wife; which Effect of this Conjugal Opiate even the modest Virgil has remark’d in the Persons of Vulcan and Venus, probably with an Eye to this Passage of Homer.
—Placidumque petivit Conjugis infusus gremio per membra soporem.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 263. To Lemnos.]
The Commentators are hard put to it, to give a Reason why Juno seeks for Sleep in Lemnos. Some finding out that Lemnos anciently abounded with Wine, inform us that it was a proper Place of Residence for him, Wine being naturally a great Provoker of Sleep. Others will have it, that this God being in love with Pasithaë, who resided with her Sister the Wife of Vulcan, in Lemnos, it was very probable he might be found haunting near his Mistress. Other Commentators perceiving the Weakness of these Conjectures, will have it that Juno met Sleep here by mere Accident; but this is contradictory to the whole Thread of the Narration. But who knows whether Homer might not design this Fiction as a Piece of Raillery upon the Sluggishness of the Lemnians; tho’ this Character of them does not appear?
A kind of Satyr like that of Ariosto, who makes the Angel find Discord in a Monastery: Or like that of Boileau in his Lutrin, where he places Mollesse in a Dormitory of the Monks of St. Bernard?
Note XXIV.
VERSE 266. Sweet-pleasing Sleep, &c.]
Virgil has copied some part of this Conversation between Juno and Sleep, where he introduces the same Goddess making a Request to Aeolus. Scaliger, who is always eager to depreciate Homer, and zealous to praise his favourite Author, has highly censured this Passage: But notwithstanding this Critick’s Judgment, an impartial Reader will find, I don’t doubt, much more Art and Beauty in the Original than the Copy. In the former, Juno endeavours to engage Sleep in her Design by the Promise of a proper and valuable Present; but having formerly run a great Hazard in a like Attempt, he is not prevail’d upon. Hereupon the Goddess, knowing his Passion for one of the Graces, engages to give her to his Desires: This Hope brings the Lover to Consent, but not before he obliges Juno to confirm her Promise by an Oath in a most solemn manner, the very Words and Ceremony whereof he prescribes to her. These are all beautiful and poetical Circumstances, most whereof are untouch’d by Virgil, and which Scaliger therefore calls low and vulgar. He only makes Juno demand a Favour from Aeolus, which he had no reason to refuse; and promise him a Reward, which it does not appear he was fond of. The Latin Poet has indeed with great Judgment added one Circumstance concerning the Promise of Children,
—& pulchrâ faciat te prole parentem.
And this is very conformable to the Religion of the Romans, among whom Juno was suppos’d to preside over human Births; but it does not appear she had any such Office in the Greek Theology.
Note XXV.
VERSE 272. A splendid Footstool. ]
Notwithstanding the Cavils of Scaliger, it may be allow’d, that an easy Chair was no improper Present for Sleep. As to the Footstool, Mad. Dacier’s Observation is a very just one; that besides its being a Conveniency, it was a Mark of Honour, and was far from presenting any low or trivial Idea. ’Tis upon that Account we find it so frequently mention’d in Scripture, where the Earth is call’d the Footstool of the Throne of God. In Jeremiah, Judaea is call’d (as a Mark of Distinction) the Footstool of the Feet of God. Lament. 2. ℣. 1. And he remember’d not the Footstool of his Feet, in the Day of his Wrath. We see here the same Image, founded no doubt upon the same Customs. Dacier.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 279. The Sire of all, old Ocean.]
" Homer (says Plutarch ) calls the Sea Father of All, with a View to this Doctrine, that all things were generated from Water. Thales the Milesian, the Head of the Ionick Sect who seems to have been the first Author of Philosophy, affirmed Water to be the Principle from whence all things spring, and into which all things are resolv’d; because the prolific Seed of all Animals is a Moisture; all Plants are nourished by Moisture; the very Sun and Stars, which are Fire, are nourished by moist Vapours and Exhalations; and consequently he thought the World was produc’d from this Element."
Plut. Opin. of Philos. lib. 1. c. 3.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 281. But how, unbidden, &c.]
This Particularity is worth remarking; Sleep tells Juno that he dares not approach Jupiter without his own Order; whereby he seems to intimate, that a Spirit of a superior kind may give itself up to a voluntary Cessation of Thought and Action, tho’ it does not want this Relaxation from any Weakness or Necessity of its Nature.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 285. What-time deserting Ilion ’s wasted Plain, &c.]
One may observe from hence, that to make Falsity in Fables useful and subservient to our Designs, it is not enough to cause the Story to resemble Truth, but we are to corroborate it by parallel Places; which Method the Poet uses elsewhere. Thus many have attempted great Difficulties, and surmounted ’em. So did Hercules, so did Juno, so did Pluto. Here therefore the Poet feigning that Sleep is going to practise insidiously upon Jove, prevents the Strangeness and Incredibility of the Tale, by squaring it to an ancient Story; which ancient Story was, that Sleep had once before got the mastery of Jove in the case of Hercules. Eustathius.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 296. Ev’n Jove rever’d the venerable Dame. ]
Jupiter is represented as unwilling to do any thing that might be offensive or ungrateful to Night; the Poet (says Eustathius ) instructs us by this, that a wise and honest Man will curb his Wrath before any awful and venerable Person: Such was Night in regard of Jupiter, feign’d as an Ancestor, and honourable on account of her Antiquity and Power. For the Greek Theology teaches that Night and Chaos were before all things. Wherefore it was held sacred to obey the Night in the Conflicts of War, as we find by the Admonitions of the Heralds to Hector and Ajax in the 7 th Iliad.
Milton has made a fine Use of this ancient Opinion in relation to Chaos and Night, in the latter Part of his second Book, where he describes the Passage of Satan thro’ their Empire. He calls them,
—Eldest Night And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature;—
And alludes to the same, in those noble Verses,
—Behold the Throne Of Chaos, and his dark Pavillion spread Wide on the wasteful Deep: With him enthron’d Sate sable-vested Night, eldest of things The Consort of his Reign.—
That fine Apostrophe of Spenser has also the same Allusion, Book 1.
O thou, most ancient Grandmother of all, More old than Jove, whom thou at first didst breed, Or that great House of Gods coelestial; Which was begot in Daemogorgon’s Hall, And saw’st the Secrets of the World unmade.
Note XXX.
VERSE 307. Let the great Parent Earth one Hand sustain, And stretch the other o’er the sacred Main, &c.]
There is something wonderfully solemn in this manner of Swearing propos’d by Sleep to Juno. How answerable is this Idea to the Dignity of the Queen of the Goddesses, where Earth, Ocean, and Hell itself, where the whole Creation, all things visible and invisible, are call’d to be Witnesses of the Oath of the Deity.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 311. That she, my lov’d one, &c.]
Sleep is here made to repeat the Words of Juno’s Promise, than which Repetition nothing, I think, can be more beautiful or better placed. The Lover fired with these Hopes, insists on the Promise, dwelling with Pleasure on each Circumstance that relates to his fair one. The Throne and Footstool, it seems, are quite out of his Head.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 323. Fair Ida trembles. ]
It is usually suppos’d at the Approach or Presence of any heavenly Being, that upon their Motion, all should shake that lies beneath ’em. Here the Poet giving a Description of the Descent of these Deities upon the Ground at Lectos, says that the loftiest of the Wood trembled under their Feet: Which Expression is to intimate the Lightness and Swiftness of the Motions of heavenly Beings; the Wood does not shake under their Feet from any corporeal Weight, but from a certain awful Dread and Horror Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 328. In Likeness of a Bird of Night. ]
This is a Bird of Night about the Size of a Hawk, entirely black; and that is the reason why Homer describes Sleep under its Form. Here (says Eustathius Homer lets us know, as well as in many other Places, that he is no Stranger to the Language of the Gods. Hobbes has taken very much from the Dignity of this Supposition, in translating the present Lines in this manner.
And there sate Sleep in Likeness of a Fowl, Which Gods do Chalcis call, but Men an Owl.
We find in Plato’s Cratylus a Discourse of great Subtility, grounded chiefly on this Observation of Homer, that the Gods and Men call the same thing by different Names. The Philosopher supposes that in the original Language every thing was express’d by a word, whose Sound was naturally apt to mark the Nature of the thing signify’d. This great Work he ascribes to the Gods, since it required more Knowledge both in the Nature of Sounds and Things, than Man had attain’d to. This Resemblance he says was almost lost in modern Languages by the unskilful Alterations Men had made, and the great Licence they had taken in compounding of Words. However, he observes there were yet among the Greeks some Remains of this original Language, of which he gives a few Instances, adding, that many more were to be found in some of the barbarous Languages, that had deviated less from the Original, which was still preserv’d entire among the Gods. This appears a Notion so uncommon, that I could not forbear to mention it.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 345. —To whose indulgent Cares I owe the Nursing, &c.]
The Allegory of this is very obvious. Juno is constantly understood to be the Air; and we are here told she was nourished by Oceanus and Tethys: That is to say, the Air is fed and nourished by the Vapours which rise from the Ocean and the Earth. For Tethys is the same with Rhea. Eustathius.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 359.] This Courtship of Jupiter to Juno may possibly be thought pretty singular. He endeavours to prove the Ardour of his Passion to her, by the Instances of its Warmth to other Women. A great many People will look upon this as no very likely Method to recommend himself to Juno’s Favour. Yet, after all, something may be said in Defence of Jupiter’s way of thinking, with respect to the Ladies. Perhaps a Man’s Love to the Sex in general may be no ill Recommendation of him to a Particular. And to be known, or thought, to have been successful with a good many, is what some Moderns have found no unfortunate Qualification in gaining a Lady, even a most virtuous one like Juno, especially one who (like her) has had the Experience of a married State.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 395. Glad Earth perceives, &c.]
It is an Observation of Aristotle in the 25 th Chapter of his Poeticks, that when Homer is obliged to describe any thing of itself absurd or too improbable, he constantly contrives to blind and dazle the Judgment of his Readers with some shining Description. This Passage is a remarkable Instance of that Artifice, for having imagined a Fiction of very great Absurdity, that the supreme Being should be laid asleep in a female Embrace, he immediately, as it were to divert his Reader from reflecting on his Boldness, pours forth a great Variety of poetical Ornaments; by describing the various Flowers the Earth shoots up to compose their Couch, the golden Clouds that encompass’d them, and the bright heavenly Dews that were shower’d round them. Eustathius observes it as an Instance of Homer’s modest Conduct in so delicate an Affair, that he has purposely adorn’d the Bed of Jupiter with such a Variety of beautiful Flowers, that the Reader’s Thoughts being entirely taken up with these Ornaments, might have no room for loose Imaginations. In the same manner an ancient Scholiast has observ’d, that the golden Cloud was contriv’d to lock up this Action from any farther Enquiry of the Reader.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 395.] I cannot conclude the Notes on this Story of Jupiter and Juno, without observing with what particular Care Milton has imitated the several beautiful Parts of this Episode, introducing them upon different Occasions as the Subjects of his Poem would admit. The Circumstance of Sleep’s sitting in Likeness of a Bird on the Fir-Tree upon Mount Ida, is alluded to in his 4 th Book, where Satan sits in Likeness of a Cormorant on the Tree of Life. The Creation is made to give the same Tokens of Joy at the Performance of the nuptial Rites of our first Parents, as she does here at the Congress of Jupiter and Juno. Lib. 8.
—To the nuptial Bow’r I led her blushing like the Morn, all Heav’n And happy Constellations on that Hour Shed their selectest Influence; the Earth
Gave sign of Gratulation, and each Hill; Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Airs Whisper’d it to the Woods, and from their Wings Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicy Shrub.
Those Lines also in the 4 th Book are manifestly from the same Original.
—Roses and Jessamine Rear’d high their flourish’d Heads between, and wrought Mosaic, underfoot the Violet, Crocus and Hyacinth with rich Inlay Broider’d the Ground.—
Where the very Turn of Homer’s Verses is observed, and the Cadence, and almost the Words, finely translated.
But it is with wonderful Judgment and Decency he has used that exceptionable Passage of the Dalliance, Ardour, and Enjoyment: That which seems in Homer an impious Fiction, becomes a moral Lesson in Milton; since he makes that lascivious Rage of the Passion the immediate Effect of the Sin of our first Parents after the Fall. Adam expresses it in the Words of Jupiter.
For never did thy Beauty since the Day I saw thee first, and wedded thee, adorn’d With all Perfections, so enflame my Sense, With Ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now Than ever; Bounty of this virtuous Tree! So said he, and forbore not Glance or Toy Of amorous Intent, well understood Of Eve, whose Eye darted contagious Fire. Her Hand he seiz’d, and to a shady Bank Thick over-head with verdant Roof embow’r’d, He led her, nothing loath: Flow’rs were the Couch, Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, And Hyacinth; Earth’s freshest, softest Lap. There they their Fill of Love and Love’s Disport Took largely, of their mutual Guilt the Seal;
The Solace of their Sin, till dewy Sleep Oppress’d them, weary of their amorous Play. Milton, l. 9.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 417. The Pow’r of Slumbers flew. ]
M. Dacier in her Translation of this Passage has thought fit to dissent from the common Interpretation, as well as obvious Sense of the Words. She restrains the general Expression [Greek]the famous Nations of Men, to signify only the Country of the Lemnians, who, she says, were much celebrated on account of Vulcan. But this strain’d Interpretation cannot be admitted, especially when the obvious Meaning of the Words express what is very proper and natural. The God of Sleep having hastily delivered his Message to Neptune, immediately leaves the Hurry of the Battel, (which was no proper Scene for him) and retires among the Tribes of Mankind. The word [Greek], on which M. Dacier grounds her Criticism, is an expletive Epithet very common in Homer, and no way fit to point out one certain Nation, especially in an Author one of whose most distinguishing Characters is Particularity in Description.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 444. The Legions march, and Neptune leads the way. ]
The chief Advantage the Greeks gain by the Sleep of Jupiter seems to be this: Neptune unwilling to offend Jupiter, has hitherto concealed himself in disguised Shapes; so that it does not appear that Jupiter knew of his being among the Greeks, since he takes no notice of it. This Precaution hinders him from assisting the Greeks otherwise than by his Advice. But upon the Intelligence receiv’d of what Juno had done, he assumes a Form that manifests his Divinity, inspiring Courage into the Grecian Chiefs, appearing at the Head of their Army, brandishing a Sword in his Hand, the Sight of which struck such a Terror into the Trojans that, as Homer says, none durst approach it. And therefore it is not to be wonder’d, that the Trojans who are no longer sustain’d by Jupiter, immediately give way to the Enemy.
Note XL.
VERSE 442. The weaker Warrior takes a lighter Shield. ]
Plutarch seems to allude to this Passage in the beginning of the Life of Pelopidas.
" Homer, says he, makes the bravest and stoutest of his Warriors march to Battel in the best Arms. The Grecian Legislators punish’d those who cast away their Shields, but not those who lost their Spears or their Swords, as an Intimation, that the Care of preserving and defending our selves is preferable to the wounding our Enemy, especially in those who are Generals of Armies, or Governors of States."
Eustathius has observ’d, that the Poet here makes the best Warriors take the largest Shields and longest Spears, that they might be ready prepar’d, with proper Arms, both offensive and defensive, for a new kind of Fight, in which they are soon to be engaged when the Fleet is attack’d. Which indeed seems the most rational Account that can be given for Neptune’s Advice in this Exigence.
Mr. Hobbes has committed a great Oversight in this Place; he makes the wounded Princes (who it is plain were unfit for the Battel, and do not engage in the ensuing Fight) put on Arms as well as the others; whereas they do no more in Homer than see their Orders obey’d by the rest as to this Change of Arms.
Note XLI.
VERSE 452. And lo the God, and wondrous Man appear. ]
What Magnificence and Nobleness is there in this Idea? where Homer opposes Hector to Neptune, and equalizes him in some degree to a God. Eustathius.
Note XLII.
VERSE 453. The roaring Main, &c.]
This swelling and Inundation of the Sea towards the Grecian Camp, as if it had been agitated by a Storm, is meant for a Prodigy, intimating that the Waters had the same Resentments with their Commander Neptune, and seconded him in his Quarrel. Eustathius.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 457. Not half so loud, &c.]
The Poet having ended the Episode of Jupiter and Juno, returns to the Battel, where the Greeks being animated and led on by Neptune, renew the Fight with Vigour. The Noise and Outcry of this fresh Onset, he endeavours to express by these three sounding Comparisons; as if he thought it necessary to awake the Reader’s Attention, which by the preceding Descriptions might be lull’d into a Forgetfulness of the Fight. He might likewise design to shew how soundly Jupiter slept, since he is not awak’d by so terrible an Uproar.
This Passage cannot be thought justly liable to the Objections which have been made against heaping Comparisons one upon another, whereby the principal Object is lost amidst too great a Variety of different Images. In this Case the principal Image is more strongly impress’d on the Mind by a Multiplication of Similes, which are the natural Product of an Imagination labouring to express something very vast: But finding no single Idea sufficient to answer its Conceptions, it endeavours by redoubling the Comparisons to supply this Defect: the different Sounds of Waters, Winds, and Flames being as it were united in one. We have several Instances of this sort even in so castigated and reserv’d a Writer as Virgil, who has joined together the Images of this Passage in the 4 th Georgic, ℣. 261. and apply’d them, beautifully softened by a kind of Parody, to the buzzing of a Beehive.
Frigidus ut quondam sylvis immurmurat Auster, Ut mare sollicitum stridet refluentibus undis, Aestuat ut clausis rapidus fornacibus ignis.
Tasso has not only imitated this particular Passage of Homer, but likewise added to it. Cant. 9. St. 22.
Rapido si che torbida procella De cavernosi monti esce piu tarda: Fiume, ch’ alberi insieme, e case svella: Folgore, che le torri abbatta, & arda: Terremoto, che’l mondo empia d’horrore, Son picciole sembianze al suo furore.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 480. Smoaks in the Dust, and ploughs into the Ground. ]
[Greek], &c.
These Words are translated by several as if they signify’d, that Hector was turn’d round with the Blow, like a Whirlwind; which would enhance the wonderful Greatness of Ajax’s Strength. Eustathius rather inclines to refer the Words to the Stone itself, and the Violence of its Motion. Chapman I think is in the right to prefer the latter, but he should not have taken the Interpretation to himself. He says, it is above the Wit of Man to give a more fiery Illustration both of Ajax’s Strength and Hector’s; of Ajax, for giving such a Force to the Stone, that it could not spend itself on Hector, but afterwards turn’d upon the Earth with that Violence; and of Hector, for standing the Blow so solidly; for without that Consideration, the Stone could never have recoil’d so fiercely. This Image, together with the noble Simile following it, seem to have given Spencer the Hint of those sublime Verses.
As when almighty Jove, in wrathsul Mood, To wreak the Guilt of mortal Sins is bent,
Hurls forth his thund’ring Dart, with deadly Food Enroll’d, of Flames, and smouldring Dreariment Thro’ riven Clouds, and molten Firmament, The fierce three-forked Engine making way, Both lofty Tow’rs and highest Trees hath rent, And all that might his dreadful Passage stay, And shooting in the Earth, casts up a Mound of Clay. His boist’rous Club so bury’d in the Ground, He could not rear again, &c. —
Note XLV.
VERSE 533. Propt on that Spear, &c.]
The occasion of this Sarcasm of Polydamas seems taken from the Attitude of his falling Enemy, who is transfixed with a Spear thro’ his right Shoulder. This Posture bearing some Resemblance to that of a Man leaning on a Staff, might probably suggest this Conceit.
The Speech of Polydamas begins a long String of Sarcastick Raillery, in which Eustathius pretends to observe very different Characters. This of Polydamas, he says, is pleasant, that of Ajax, heroic; that of Acamas, plain; and that of Peneleus, pathetick.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 599. Daughters of Jove! &c.]
Whenever we meet with these fresh Invocations in the midst of Action, the Poets would seem to give their Readers to understand, that they are come to a Point where the Description being above their own Strength, they have occasion for supernatural Assistance; by this Artifice at once exciting the Reader’s Attention, and gracefully varying the Narration. In the present case Homer seems to triumph in the Advantage the Greeks had gain’d in the Flight of the Trojans, by invoking the Muses to snatch the brave Actions of his Heroes from Oblivion, and set them in the Light of Eternity. This Power is vindicated to them by the Poets on every occasion, and it is to this Task they are so solemnly and frequently summon’d by our Author. Tasso has, I think, introduced one of these Invocations in a very noble and peculiar manner; where, on occasion of a Battle by Night, he calls upon the Night to allow him to draw forth those mighty Deeds which were perform’d under the Concealment of her Shades, and to display their Glories, notwithstanding that Disadvantage, to all Posterity.
Notte, che nel profondo oscuro seno Chiudesti, e ne l’oblio fatto si grande; Piacciati, ch’io nel tragga, e’n bel sereno A la future età lo spieghi, e mande. Viva la fame loro, e trà lor gloria Splenda del fosco tuo l’alta memoria.
Book XV THE FIFTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
JUpiter awaking, sees the Trojans repuls’d from the Trenches, Hector in a Swoon, and Neptune at the Head of the Greeks: He is highly incens’d at the Artifice of Juno, who appeases him by her Submissions; she is then sent to Iris and Apollo. Juno repairing to the Assembly of the Gods, attempts with extraordinary Address to incense them against Jupiter, in particular she touches Mars with a violent Resentment: He is ready to take Arms, but is prevented by Minerva. Iris and Apollo obey the Orders of Jupiter; Iris commands Neptune to leave the Battel, to which, after much Reluctance and Passion, he consents. Apollo re-inspires Hector with Vigour, brings him back to the Battel, marches before him with his Aegis, and turns the Fortune of the Fight. He breaks down great part of the Grecian Wall; the Trojans rush in and attempt to fire the first Line of the Fleet, but are, as yet, repell’d by the greater Ajax with a prodigious Slaughter.
Index to The Argument
- [1-38] Jupiter awakes; his wrath at Juno's deceit
- [39-83] Juno's oath; Jupiter foretells the course of the war
- [84-125] Juno returns to Olympus and incites Mars
- [126-161] Minerva restrains the rage of Mars
- [162-205] Iris commands Neptune to quit the field
- [206-245] Neptune's defiance and reluctant retreat
- [246-297] Apollo finds and reinvigorates Hector
- [298-337] Hector, divinely restored, returns to battle
- [338-405] Apollo leads the charge with the Aegis
- [406-449] Apollo destroys the Greek wall; the Trojans pour in
- [450-469] The battle at the ships; Patroclus departs
- [470-513] Close combat: Hector vs. Ajax
- [514-569] Jupiter breaks Teucer's bow
- [570-609] Exhortations of Hector and Ajax
- [610-785] The fight for the first ship
- [786-909] Ajax's desperate stand upon the decks
- [1-167] Scene: The field, Mount Ida, and Olympus
NOW in swift Flight they past the Trench profound,
And many a Chief lay gasping on the Ground:
Then stopp’d, and panted, where the Chariots lie;
Fear on their Cheek, and Horror in their Eye.
Meanwhile awaken’d from his Dream of Love,
On Ida’s Summit sate imperial Jove:
Round the wide Fields he cast a careful view,
There saw the Trojans fly, the Greeks pursue,
These proud in Arms, those scatter’d o’er the Plain;
And, ’midst the War, the Monarch of the Main.
Not far, great Hector on the Dust he spies,
(His sad Associates round with weeping Eyes)
Ejecting Blood, and panting yet for Breath,
His Senses wandring to the Verge of Death.
The God beheld him with a pitying Look,
And thus, incens’d, to fraudful Juno spoke.
O thou, still adverse to th’ eternal Will,
For ever studious in promoting Ill!
Thy Arts have made the godlike Hector yield,
And driv’n his conqu’ring Squadrons from the Field.
Can’st thou, unhappy in thy Wiles! withstand
Our Pow’r immense, and brave th’ Almighty Hand?
Hast thou forgot, when bound and fix’d on high,
From the vast Concave of the spangled Sky,
I hung thee trembling, in a golden Chain;
And all the raging Gods oppos’d in vain?
Headlong I hurl’d them from th’ Olympian Hall,
Stunn’d in the Whirl, and breathless with the Fall.
For godlike Hercules these Deeds were done,
Nor seem’d the Vengeance worthy such a Son;
When by thy Wiles induc’d, fierce Boreas tost
The shipwrack’d Hero on the Coan Coast:
Him thro’ a thousand Forms of Death I bore,
And sent to Argos, and his native Shore.
Hear this, remember, and our Fury dread,
Nor pull th’ unwilling Vengeance on thy Head,
Lest Arts and Blandishments successless prove,
Thy soft Deceits, and well-dissembled Love.
The Thund’rer spoke: Imperial Juno mourn’d,
And trembling, these submissive Words return’d.
By ev’ry Oath that Pow’rs immortal ties,
The foodful Earth, and all-infolding Skies,
By thy black Waves, tremendous Styx! that flow
Thro’ the drear Realms of gliding Ghosts below:
By the dread Honours of thy sacred Head,
And that unbroken Vow, our Virgin Bed!
Not by my Arts the Rulet of the Main
Steeps Troy in Blood, and rages round the Plain;
By his own Ardour, his own Pity sway’d
To help his Greeks; he fought, and disobey’d:
50Else had thy Juno better Counsels giv’n,
And taught Submission to the Sire of Heav’n.
Think’st thou with me? fair Empress of the Skies!
(Th’ immortal Father with a Smile replies!)
Then soon the haughty Sea-God shall obey,
Nor dare to act, but when we point the way.
If Truth inspires thy Tongue, proclaim our Will
To yon’ bright Synod on th’ Olympian Hill;
Our high Decree let various Iris know,
And call the God that bears the silver Bow.
Let her descend, and from th’ embattel’d Plain
Command the Sea-God to his watry Reign:
While Phoebus hastes, great Hector to prepare
To rise afresh, and once more wake the War,
His lab’ring Bosom re-inspires with Breath,
And calls his Senses from the Verge of Death.
Greece chas’d by Troy ev’n to Achilles’ Fleet,
Shall fall by thousands at the Hero’s Feet.
He, not untouch’d with Pity, to the Plain
Shall send Patroclus, but shall send in vain.
What Youth he slaughters under Ilion’s Walls?
Ev’n my lov’d Son, divine Sarpedon falls!
Vanquish’d at last by Hector’s Lance he lies.
Then, nor till then, shall great Achilles rise:
And lo! that Instant, godlike Hector dies.
From that great Hour the War’s whole Fortune turns,
Pallas assists, and lofty Ilion burns.
Not till that Day shall Jove relax his Rage,
Nor one of all the heav’nly Host engage
In aid of Greece. The Promise of a God
I gave, and seal’d it with th’ Almighty Nod,
Achilles’ Glory to the Stars to raise;
Such was our Word, and Fate the Word obeys.
The trembling Queen (th’ Almighty Order giv’n)
Swift from th’ Idaean Summit shot to Heav’n.
As some way-faring Man, who wanders o’er
In Thought, a Length of Lands he trod before,
Sends forth his active Mind from Place to Place,
Joins Hill to Dale, and measures Space with Space:
So swift flew Juno to the blest Abodes,
If Thought of Man can match the Speed of Gods.
There sate the Pow’rs in awful Synod plac’d;
They bow’d, and made Obeysance as she pass’d,
Thro’ all the brazen Dome: With Goblets crown’d
They hail her Queen; the Nectar streams around.
Fair Themis first presents the golden Bowl,
And anxious asks, what Cares disturb her Soul?
To whom the white-arm’d Goddess thus replies:
Enough thou know’st the Tyrant of the Skies,
Severely bent his Purpose to fulfill,
100Unmov’d his Mind, and unrestrain’d his Will.
Go thou, the Feasts of Heav’n attend thy Call;
Bid the crown’d Nectar circle round the Hall;
But Jove shall thunder thro’ th’ Ethereal Dome,
Such stern Decrees, such threatned Woes to come,
As soon shall freeze Mankind with dire Surprize,
And damp th’ eternal Banquets of the Skies.
The Goddess said, and sullen took her Place;
Blank Horror sadden’d each celestial Face.
To see the gath’ring Grudge in ev’ry Breast,
Smiles on her Lips a spleenful Joy exprest,
While on her wrinkled Front, and Eyebrow bent,
Sate stedfast Care, and low’ring Discontent.
Thus she proceeds—Attend ye Pow’rs above!
But know, ’tis Madness to contest with Jove:
Supreme he sits; and sees, in Pride of Sway,
Your Vassal Godheads grudgingly obey;
Fierce in the Majesty of Pow’r controuls,
Shakes all the Thrones of Heav’n, and bends the Poles.
Submiss, Immortals! all he wills, obey;
And thou great Mars, begin and shew the way.
Behold Ascalaphus! behold him die,
But dare not murmur, dare not vent a Sigh;
Thy own lov’d boasted Offspring lies o’erthrown,
If that lov’d boasted Offspring be thy own.
Stern Mars, with Anguish for his slaughter’d Son,
Smote his rebelling Breast, and fierce begun.
Thus then, Immortals! thus shall Mars obey;
Forgive me Gods, and yield my Vengeance way:
Descending first to yon’ forbidden Plain,
The God of Battels dares avenge the slain;
Dares, tho’ the Thunder bursting o’er my Head
Should hurl me blazing on those heaps of dead.
With that, he gives command to Fear and Flight
To join his rapid Coursers for the Fight:
Then grim in Arms, with hasty Vengeance flies;
Arms, that reflect a Radiance thro’ the Skies.
And now had Jove, by bold Rebellion driv’n,
Discharg’d his Wrath on half the Host of Heav’n;
But Pallas springing thro’ the bright Abode,
Starts from her azure Throne to calm the God.
Struck, for th’ immortal Race with timely Fear,
From frantic Mars she snatch’d the Shield and Spear;
Then the huge Helmet lifting from his Head,
Thus, to th’ impetuous Homicide she said.
By what wild Passion, Furious! art thou tost?
Striv’st thou with Jove? Thou art already lost.
Shall not the Thund’rer’s dread Command restrain,
And was Imperial Juno heard in vain?
Back to the Skies would’st thou with Shame be driv’n,
150And in thy Guilt involve the Host of Heav’n?
Ilion and Greece no more should Jove engage;
The Skies would yield an ampler Scene of Rage,
Guilty and guiltless find an equal Fate,
And one vast Ruin whelm th’ Olympian State.
Cease then thy Offspring’s Death unjust to call;
Heroes as great have dy’d, and yet shall fall.
Why should Heav’n’s Law with foolish Man comply,
Exempted from the Race ordain’d to die?
This Menace fix’d the Warrior to his Throne;
Sullen he sate, and curb’d the rising Groan.
Then Juno call’d ( Jove’s Orders to obey)
The winged Iris, and the God of Day.
Go wait the Thund’rer’s Will ( Saturnia cry’d)
On yon’ tall Summit of the fount-ful Ide:
There in the Father’s awful Presence stand,
Receive, and execute his dread Command.
She said, and sate: the God that gilds the Day,
And various Iris wing their airy way.
Swift as the Wind, to Ida’s Hills they came,
(Fair Nurse of Fountains and of savage Game.)
There sate th’ Eternal; He, whose Nod controuls
The trembling World, and shakes the steady Poles.
Veil’d in a Mist of Fragrance him they found,
With Clouds of Gold and Purple circled round.
Well-pleas’d the Thund’rer saw their earnest care,
And prompt Obedience to the Queen of Air;
Then (while a Smile serenes his awful Brow)
Commands the Goddess of the show’ry Bow.
Iris! descend, and what we here ordain
Report to yon’ mad Tyrant of the Main.
Bid him from Fight to his own Deeps repair,
Or breathe from Slaughter in the Fields of Air.
If he refuse, then let him timely weigh
Our elder Birthright, and superior Sway.
How shall his Rashness stand the dire Alarms,
If Heav’ns Omnipotence descend in Arms?
Strives he with me, by whom his Pow’r was giv’n,
And is there Equal to the Lord of Heav’n?
Th’ Almighty spoke; the Goddess wing’d her Flight
To sacred Ilion from th’ Idaean Height.
Swift as the rat’ling Hail, or fleecy Snows
Drive thro’ the Skies, when Boreas fiercely blows;
So from the Clouds descending Iris falls;
And to blue Neptune thus the Goddess calls.
Attend the Mandate of the Sire above,
In me behold the Messenger of Jove:
He bids thee from forbidden Wars repair
To thy own Deeps, or to the Fields of Air.
This if refus’d, he bids thee timely weigh
200His elder Birthright, and superior Sway.
How shall thy Rashness stand the dire Alarms,
If Heav’ns Omnipotence descend in Arms?
Striv’st thou with him, by whom all Pow’r is giv’n?
And art thou Equal to the Lord of Heav’n?
What means the haughty Sov’reign of the Skies,
(The King of Ocean thus, incens’d, replies)
Rule as he will his portion’d Realms on high;
No Vassal God, nor of his Train am I.
Three Brother Deities from Saturn came,
And ancient Rhea, Earth’s immortal Dame:
Assign’d by Lot, our triple Rule we know;
Infernal Pluto sways the Shades below;
O’er the wide Clouds, and o’er the starry Plain,
Ethereal Jove extends his high Domain;
My Court beneath the hoary Waves I keep,
And hush the Roarings of the sacred Deep:
Olympus, and this Earth, in common lie;
What Claim has here the Tyrant of the Sky?
Far in the distant Clouds let him controul,
And awe the younger Brothers of the Pole;
There to his Children his Commands be giv’n,
The trembling, servile, second Race of Heav’n.
And must I then (said she) O Sire of Floods!
Bear this fierce Answer to the King of Gods?
Correct it yet, and change thy rash Intent;
A noble Mind disdains not to repent.
To elder Brothers guardian Fiends are giv’n,
To scourage the Wretch insulting them and Heav’n.
Great is the Profit (thus the God rejoin’d)
When Ministers are blest with prudent Mind:
Warn’d by thy Words, to pow’rful Jove I yield,
And quit, tho’ angry, the contended Field.
Not but his Threats with Justice I disclaim,
The same our Honours, and our Birth the same.
If yet, forgetful of his Promise giv’n
To Hermes, Pallas, and the Queen of Heav’n;
To favour Ilion, that perfidious Place,
He breaks his Faith with half th’ ethereal Race;
Give him to know, unless the Grecian Train
Lay yon’ proud Structures level with the Plain,
Howe’er th’ Offence by other Gods be past,
The Wrath of Neptune shall for ever last.
Thus speaking, furious from the Field he strode,
And plung’d into the Bosom of the Flood.
The Lord of Thunders from his lofty Height
Beheld, and thus bespoke the Source of Light.
Behold! the God whose liquid Arms are hurl’d
Around the Globe, whose Earthquakes rock the World;
Desists at length his Rebel-war to wage,
250Seeks his own Seas, and trembles at our Rage!
Else had my Wrath, Heav’ns Thronesall shaking round,
Burn’d to the bottom of his Seas profound;
And all the Gods that round old Saturn dwell,
Had heard the Thunders to the Deeps of Hell.
Well was the Crime, and well the Vengeance spar’d;
Ev’n Pow’r immense had found such Battel hard.
Go thou my Son! the trembling Greeks alarm,
Shake my broad Aegis on thy active Arm,
Be godlike Hector thy peculiar Care,
Swell his bold Heart, and urge his Strength to War:
Let Ilion conquer, till th’ Achaian Train
Fly to their Ships and Hellespont again:
Then Greece shall breathe from Toils—The Godhead said;
His Will divine the Son of Jove obey’d.
Not half so swift the sailing Falcon flies,
That drives a Turtle thro’ the liquid Skies;
As Phoebus shooting from th’ Idaean Brow,
Glides down the Mountain to the Plain below.
There Hector seated by the Stream he sees,
His Sense returning with the coming Breeze;
Again his Pulses beat, his Spirits rise;
Again his lov’d Companions meet his Eyes;
Jove thinking of his Pains, they past away.
To whom the God who gives the golden Day.
Why sits great Hector from the Field so far,
What grief, what wound, withholds him from the War?
The fainting Hero, as the Vision bright
Stood shining o’er him, half unseal’d his Sight:
What blest Immortal, with commanding Breath,
Thus wakens Hector from the Sleep of Death?
Has Fame not told, how, while my trusty Sword
Bath’d Greece in Slaughter, and her Battel gor’d,
The mighty Ajax with a deadly Blow
Had almost sunk me to the Shades below?
Ev’n yet, methinks, the gliding Ghosts I spy,
And Hell’s black Horrors swim before my Eye.
To him Apollo. Be no more dismay’d;
See, and be strong! the Thund’rer sends thee Aid,
Behold! thy Phoebus shall his Arms employ,
Phoebus, propitious still to thee, and Troy.
Inspire thy Warriors then with manly Force,
And to the Ships impell thy rapid Horse:
Ev’n I will make thy fiery Coursers way,
And drive the Grecians headlong to the Sea.
Thus to bold Hector spoke the Son of Jove,
And breath’d immortal Ardour from above.
As when the pamper’d Steed, with Reins unbound,
Breaks from his Stall, and pours along the Ground;
With ample Strokes he rushes to the Flood,
300To bathe his Sides and cool his fiery Blood.
His Head now freed, he tosses to the Skies;
His Mane dishevel’d o’er his Shoulders flies;
He snuffs the Females in the well known Plain,
And springs, exulting, to his Fields again:
Urg’d by the Voice divine, thus Hector flew,
Full of the God; and all his Hosts pursue.
As when the Force of Men and Dogs combin’d
Invade the Mountain Goat, or branching Hind;
They gain th’impervious Rock, and safe retreat
(For Fate preserves them) from the Hunter’s Threat.
When lo! a Lyon shoots across the way:
They fly; at once the Chasers and the Prey.
So Greece, that late in conq’ring Troops pursu’d,
And mark’d their Progress thro’ the Ranks in Blood,
Soon as they see the furious Chief appear,
Forget to vanquish, and consent to fear.
Thoas with Grief observ’d his dreadful Course,
Thoas, the bravest of th’ Aetolian Force:
Skill’d to direct the Javelin’s distant Flight,
And bold to combate in the standing Fight;
Nor more in Councils fam’d for solid Sense,
Than winning Words and heav’nly Eloquence.
Gods! what Portent (he cry’d) these Eyes invades?
Lo! Hector rises from the Stygian Shades!
We saw him, late, by thund’ring Ajax kill’d;
What God restores him to the frighted Field;
And not content that half of Greece lie slain,
Pours new Destruction on her Sons again?
He comes not, Jove! without thy pow’rful Will;
Lo! still he lives, pursues, and conquers still!
Yet hear my Counsel, and his worst withstand;
The Greek’s main Body to the Fleet command;
But let the few whom brisker Spirits warm,
Stand the first Onset, and provoke the Storm:
Thus point your Arms; and when such Foes appear,
Fierce as he is, let Hector learn to fear.
The Warrior spoke, the list’ning Greeks obey,
Thick’ning their Ranks, and form a deep Array.
Each Ajax, Teucer, Merion, gave command,
The valiant Leader of the Cretan Band,
And Mars- like Meges: These the Chiefs excite,
Approach the Foe, and meet the coming Fight.
Behind, unnumber’d Multitudes attend,
To flank the Navy, and the Shores defend.
Full on the Front the pressing Trojans bear,
And Hector first came tow’ring to the War.
Phoebus himself the rushing Battel led;
A Veil of Clouds involv’d his radiant Head:
High-held before him, Jove’s enormous Shield
350Portentous shone, and shaded all the Field,
Vulcan to Jove th’ immortal Gift consign’d,
To scatter Hosts, and terrify Mankind.
The Greeks expect the Shock; the Clamours rise
From diff’rent parts, and mingle in the Skies.
Dire was the Hiss of Darts, by Heroes flung,
And Arrows leaping from the Bowstring sung;
These drink the Life of gen’rous Warriors slain;
Those guiltless fall, and thirst for Blood in vain.
As long as Phoebus bore unmov’d the Shield,
Sate doubtful Conquest hov’ring o’er the Field;
But when aloft he shakes it in the Skies,
Shouts in their Ears, and lightens in their Eyes,
Deep Horror seizes ev’ry Grecian Breast,
Their Force is humbled, and their Fear confest.
So flies a Herd of Oxen, scatter’d wide,
No Swain to guard ’em, and no Day to guide,
When two fell Lyons from the Mountain come,
And spread the Carnage thro’ the shady Gloom.
Impending Phoebus pours around ’em Fear,
And Troy and Hector thunder in the Rear.
Heaps fall on Heaps: the Slaughter Hector leads;
First great Arcesilas, then Stichius bleeds;
One to the bold Boeotians ever dear,
And one Menestheus’ Friend, and fam’d Compeer.
Medon and Iäsus, Aeneas sped;
This sprung from Phelus, and th’ Athenians led;
But hapless Medon from Oïleus came;
Him Ajax honour’d with a Brother’s Name,
Tho’ born of lawless Love: From home expell’d,
A banish’d Man, in Phylace he dwell’d,
Press’d by the Vengeance of an angry Wife;
Troy ends, at last, his Labours and his Life.
Mecistes next, Polydamas o’erthrew;
And thee, brave Clonius! great Agenor slew.
By Paris, Deiochus inglorious dies,
Pierc’d thro’ the Shoulder as he basely flies.
Polites’ Arm laid Echius on the Plain;
Stretch’d on one Heap, the Victors spoil the slain.
The Greeks dismay’d, confus’d, disperse or fall,
Some seek the Trench, some skulk behind the Wall,
While these fly trembling, others pant for Breath,
And o’er the Slaughter stalks gigantic Death.
On rush’d bold Hector, gloomy as the Night,
Forbids to plunder, animates the Fight,
Points to the Fleet: For by the Gods, who flies,
Who dares but linger, by this Hand he dies:
No weeping Sister his cold Eye shall close,
No friendly Hand his fun’ral Pyre compose.
Who stops to plunder, in this signal Hour,
400The Birds shall tear him, and the Dogs devour.
Furious he said; the smarting Scourge resounds;
The Coursers fly; the smoaking Chariot bounds:
The Hosts rush on; loud Clamours shake the Shore;
The Horses thunder, Earth and Ocean roar!
Apollo, planted at the Trenche’s Bound,
Push’d at the Bank: Down sunk th’ enormous Mound:
Roll’d in the Ditch the heapy Ruin lay;
A sudden Road! a long and ample way.
O’er the dread Fosse (a late-impervious Space)
Now Steeds, and Men, and Cars, tumultuous pass.
The wond’ring Crowds the downward Level trod;
Before them flam’d the Shield, and march’d the God.
Then with his Hand he shook the mighty Wall;
And lo! the Turrets nod, the Bulwarks fall.
Easy, as when ashore an Infant stands,
And draws imagin’d Houses in the Sands;
The sportive Wanton, pleas’d with some new Play,
Sweeps the slight Works and fashion’d Domes away.
Thus vanish, at thy touch, the Tow’rs and Walls;
The Toil of thousands in a Moment falls.
The Grecians gaze around with wild Despair,
Confus’d, and weary all the Pow’rs with Pray’r;
Exhort their Men, with Praises, Threats, Commands;
And urge the Gods, with Voices, Eyes, and Hands.
Experienc’d Nestor chief obtests the Skies,
And weeps his Country with a Father’s Eyes.
O Jove! if ever, on his native Shore,
One Greek enrich’d thy Shrine with offer’d Gore;
If e’er, in hope our Country to behold,
We paid the fattest Firstlings of the Fold;
If e’er thou sign’st our Wishes with thy Nod;
Perform the Promise of a gracious God!
This Day, preserve our Navies from the Flame,
And save the Reliques of the Grecian Name.
Thus pray’d the Sage: Th’ Eternal gave consent,
And Peals of Thunder shook the Firmament.
Presumptuous Troy mistook th’ accepting Sign,
And catch’d new Fury at the Voice divine.
As, when black Tempests mix the Seas and Skies,
The roaring Deeps in watry Mountains rise,
Above the sides of some tall Ship ascend,
Its Womb they deluge, and its Ribs they rend:
Thus loudly roaring, and o’erpow’ring all,
Mount the thick Trojans up the Grecian Wall;
Legions on Legions from each side arise;
Thick sound the Keels; the Storm of Arrows flies.
Fierce on the Ships above, the Cars below,
These wield the Mace, and those the Javelin throw.
While thus the Thunder of the Battel rag’d,
450And lab’ring Armies round the Works engag’d;
Still in the Tent Patroclus sate, to tend
The good Eurypylus, his wounded Friend.
He sprinkles healing Balmes, to Anguish kind,
And adds Discourse, the Med’cine of the Mind.
But when he saw, ascending up the Fleet,
Victorious Troy: Then, starting from his Seat,
With bitter Groans his Sorrows he exprest,
He wrings his Hands, he beats his manly Breast.
Tho’ yet thy State require Redress (he cries)
Depart I must: What Horrors strike my Eyes?
Charg’d with Achilles’ high Commands I go,
A mournful Witness of this Scene of Woe:
I haste to urge him, by his Country’s Care,
To rise in Arms, and shine again in War.
Perhaps some fav’ring God his Soul may bend;
The Voice is pow’rful of a faithful Friend.
He spoke; and speaking, swifter than the Wind
Sprung from the Tent, and left the War behind.
Th’ embody’d Greeks the fierce Attack sustain,
But strive, tho’ num’rous, to repulse in vain.
Nor could the Trojans, thro’ that firm Array,
Force, to the Fleet and Tents, th’ impervious way.
As when a Shipwright, with Palladian Art,
Smooths the rough Wood, and levels ev’ry Part;
With equal Hand he guides his whole Design,
By the just Rule, and the directing Line.
The martial Leaders, with like Skill and Care,
Preserv’d their Line, and equal kept the War.
Brave Deeds of Arms thro’ all the Ranks were try’d,
And ev’ry Ship sustain’d an equal Tyde.
At one proud Bark, high-tow’ring o’er the Fleet
Ajax the Great, and Godlike Hector meet:
For one bright Prize the matchless Chiefs contend;
Nor this the Ships can fire, nor that defend;
One kept the Shore, and one the Vessel trod;
That fix’d as Fate, this acted by a God.
The Son of Clytius, in his daring Hand,
The Deck approaching, shakes a flaming Brand;
But pierc’d by Telamon’s huge Lance expires;
Thund’ring he falls, and drops th’ extinguish’d Fires.
Great Hector view’d him with a sad Survey,
As stretch’d in Dust before the Stern he lay.
Oh! all of Trojan, all of Lycian Race!
Stand to your Arms, maintain this arduous Space!
Lo! where the Son of Royal Clytius lies,
Ah save his Arms, secure his Obsequies!
This said, his eager Javelin sought the Foe:
But Ajax shunn’d the meditated Blow.
Not vainly yet the forceful Lance was thrown;
500It stretch’d in Dust unhappy Lycophron:
An Exile long, sustain’d at Ajax’ Board,
A faithful Servant to a foreign Lord;
In Peace, in War, for ever at his side,
Near his lov’d Master, as he liv’d, he dy’d.
From the high Poop he tumbles on the Sand,
And lies, a lifeless Load, along the Land.
With Anguish Ajax views the piercing Sight,
And thus inflames his Brother to the Fight.
Teucer, behold! extended on the Shore
Our Friend, our lov’d Companion! now no more!
Dear as a Parent, with a Parent’s Care,
To fight our Wars, he left his native Air.
This Death deplor’d to Hector’s Rage we owe;
Revenge, revenge it on the cruel Foe.
Where are those Darts on which the Fates attend?
And where the Bow, which Phoebus taught to bend?
Impatient Teucer, hastening to his Aid,
Before the Chief his ample Bow display’d;
The well-stor’d Quiver on his Shoulders hung:
Then hiss’d his Arrow, and the Bowstring sung.
Clytus, Pisenor’s Son, renown’d in Fame,
(To thee, Polydamas! an honour’d Name)
Drove thro’ the thickest of th’ embattel’d Plains
The startling Steeds, and shook his eager Reins.
As all on Glory ran his ardent Mind,
The pointed Death arrests him from behind:
Thro’ his fair Neck the thrilling Arrow flies;
In Youth’s first Bloom reluctantly he dies.
Hurl’d from the lofty Seat, at distance far,
The headlong Coursers spurn his empty Car;
Till sad Polydamas the Steeds restrain’d,
And gave, Astynous, to thy careful Hand;
Then, fir’d to Vengeance, rush’d amidst the Foe;
Rage edg’d his Sword, and strengthen’d ev’ry Blow.
Once more bold Teucer, in his Country’s Cause,
At Hector’s Breast a chosen Arrow draws;
And had the Weapon found the destin’d way,
Thy Fall, great Trojan! had renown’d that Day.
But Hector was not doom’d to perish then:
Th’ all-wise Disposer of the Fates of Men,
(Imperial Jove ) his present Death withstands;
Nor was such Glory due to Teucer’s Hands.
At his full Stretch, as the tough String he drew,
Struck by an Arm unseen, it burst in two;
Down drop’d the Bow: the Shaft with brazen Head
Fell innocent, and on the Dust, lay dead.
Th’ astonish’d Archer to great Ajax cries;
Some God prevents our destin’d Enterprize:
Some God, propitious to the Trojan Foe,
550Has, from my Arm unfailing, struck the Bow,
And broke the Nerve my Hands had twin’d with Art,
Strong to impell the Flight of many a Dart.
Since Heav’n commands it ( Ajax made reply)
Dismiss the Bow, and lay thy Arrows by;
Thy Arms no less suffice the Lance to wield,
And quit the Quiver for the pond’rous Shield.
In the first Ranks indulge thy Thirst of Fame,
Thy brave Example shall the rest enflame.
Fierce as they are, by long Successes vain;
To force our Fleet, or ev’n a Ship to gain,
Asks Toil, and Sweat, and Blood: Their utmost Might
Shall find its Match—No more: ’Tis ours to fight.
Then Teucer laid his faithless Bow aside;
The fourfold Buckler o’er his Shoulder ty’d;
On his brave Head a crested Helm he plac’d,
With nodding Horsehair formidably grac’d;
A Dart, whose Point with Brass refulgent shines,
The Warrior wields; and his great Brother joins.
This Hector saw, and thus express’d his Joy.
Ye Troops of Lycia, Dardanus, and Troy!
Be mindful of your selves, your ancient Fame,
And spread your Glory with the Navy’s Flame.
Jove is with us; I saw his Hand, but now,
From the proud Archer strike his vaunted Bow.
Indulgent Jove! how plain thy Favours shine,
When happy Nations bear the Marks divine!
How easy then, to see the sinking State
Of Realms accurs’d, deserted, reprobate!
Such is the Fate of Greece, and such is ours:
Behold, ye Warriors, and exert your Pow’rs.
Death is the worst; a Fate which all must try;
And, for our Country, ’tis a Bliss to die.
The gallant Man, tho’ slain in Fight he be,
Yet leaves his Nation safe, his Children free;
Entails a Debt on all the grateful State;
His own brave Friends shall glory in his Fate;
His Wife live honour’d, all his Race succeed;
And late Posterity enjoy the Deed!
This rouz’d the Soul in ev’ry Trojan Breast:
The godlike Ajax next his Greeks addrest.
How long, ye Warriors of the Argive Race,
(To gen’rous Argos what a dire Disgrace!)
How long, on these curs’d Confines will ye lie,
Yet undetermin’d, or to live, or die!
What Hopes remain, what Methods to retire,
If once your Vessels catch the Trojan Fire?
Mark how the Flames approach, how near they fall,
How Hector calls, and Troy obeys his Call!
Not to the Dance that dreadful Voice invites,
600It calls to Death, and all the Rage of Fights.
’Tis now no time for Wisdom or Debates;
To your own Hands are trusted all your Fates:
And better far, in one decisive Strife,
One Day should end our Labour, or our Life;
Than keep this hard-got Inch of barren Sands,
Still press’d, and press’d by such inglorious Hands.
The list’ning Grecians feel their Leader’s Flame,
And ev’ry kindling Bosom pants for Fame.
Then mutual Slaughters spread on either side;
By Hector here the Phocian Schedius dy’d;
There pierc’d by Ajax, sunk Laodamas,
Chief of the Foot, of old Antenor’s Race.
Polydamas laid Otus on the Sand,
The fierce Commander of th’ Epeian Band.
His Lance bold Meges at the Victor threw;
The Victor stooping, from the Death withdrew:
(That valu’d Life, O Phoebus! was thy Care)
But Croesmus’ Bosom took the flying Spear;
His Corps fell bleeding on the slipp’ry Shore;
His radiant Arms triumphant Meges bore.
Dolops, the Son of Lampus rushes on,
Sprung from the Race of old Laomedon,
And fam’d for Prowess in a well-fought Field;
He pierc’d the Centre of his sounding Shield:
But Meges, Phyleus’ ample Breastplate wore,
(Well known in Fight on Selles’ winding Shore,
For King Euphetes gave the golden Mail,
Compact, and firm with many a jointed Scale)
Which oft, in Cities storm’d, and Battels won,
Had sav’d the Father, and now saves the Son.
Full at the Trojan’s Head he urg’d his Lance,
Where the high Plumes above the Helmet dance,
New-ting’d with Tyrian Dye: In Dust below,
Shorn from the Crest, the purple Honours glow.
Meantime their Fight the Spartan King survey’d,
And stood by Meges’ side, a sudden Aid,
Thro’ Dolops’ Shoulder urg’d his forceful Dart,
Which held its Passage thro’ the panting Heart,
And issu’d at his Breast. With thund’ring Sound
The Warrior falls, extended on the Ground.
In rush the conqu’ring Greeks to spoil the slain;
But Hector’s Voice excites his kindred Train;
The Hero most, from Hicetaon sprung,
Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and young.
He (e’er to Troy the Grecians cross’d the Main)
Fed his large Oxen on Percote’s Plain;
But when oppress’d, his Country claim’d his Care,
Return’d to Ilion, and excell’d in War:
For this, in Priam’s Court he held his Place,
650Belov’d no less than Priam’s Royal Race.
Him Hector singled, as his Troops he led,
And thus inflam’d him, pointing to the Dead.
Lo Melanippus! lo where Dolops lies;
And is it thus our Royal Kinsman dies?
O’ermatch’d he falls; to two at once a Prey,
And lo! they bear the bloody Arms away!
Come on—a distant War no longer wage,
But hand to hand thy Country’s Foes engage:
Till Greece at once, and all her Glory end;
Or Ilion from her tow’ry Height descend,
Heav’d from the lowest Stone; and bury All,
In one sad Sepulchre, one common Fall.
Hector (this said) rush’d forward on the Foes:
With equal Ardour Melanippus glows:
Then Ajax thus—Oh Greeks! respect your Fame,
Respect your selves, and learn an honest Shame:
Let mutual Reverence mutual Warmth inspire,
And catch from Breast to Breast the noble Fire.
On Valour’s side the odds of Combate lie,
The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
The Wretch that trembles in the Field of Fame,
Meets Death, and worse than Death, eternal Shame.
His gen’rous Sense he not in vain imparts;
It sunk, and rooted in the Grecian Hearts.
They join, they throng, they thicken at his Call,
And flank the Navy with a brazen Wall;
Shields touching Shields in order blaze above,
And stop the Trojans, tho’ impell’d by Jove.
The fiery Spartan first, with loud Applause,
Warms the bold Son of Nestor in his Cause.
Is there (he said) in Arms a Youth like you,
So strong to fight, so active to pursue?
Why stand you distant, nor attempt a Deed?
Lift the bold Lance, and make some Trojan bleed.
He said, and backward to the Lines retir’d;
Forth rush’d the Youth, with martial Fury fir’d,
Beyond the foremost Ranks; his Lance he threw,
And round the black Battalions cast his View.
The Troops of Troy recede with sudden Fear,
While the swift Javelin hiss’d along in Air.
Advancing Menalippus met the Dart
With his bold Breast, and felt it in his Heart:
Thund’ring he falls; his falling Arms resound,
And his broad Buckler rings against the Ground.
The Victor leaps upon his prostrate Prize;
Thus on a Roe the well-breath’d Beagle flies,
And rends his side, fresh-bleeding with the Dart
The distant Hunter sent into his Heart.
Observing Hector to the Rescue flew;
700Bold as he was, Antilochus withdrew:
So when a Savage, ranging o’er the Plain,
Has torn the Shepherd’s Dog, or Shepherd Swain;
While conscious of the Deed, he glares around,
And hears the gath’ring Multitude resound,
Timely he flies the yet-untasted Food,
And gains the friendly Shelter of the Wood.
So fears the Youth; all Troy with Shouts pursue,
While Stones and Darts in mingled Tempest flew;
But enter’d in the Grecian Ranks, he turns
His manly Breast, and with new Fury burns.
Now on the Fleet the Tydes of Trojans drove,
Fierce to fulfill the stern Decrees of Jove:
The Sire of Gods, confirming Thetis’ Pray’r,
The Grecian Ardour quench’d in deep Despair;
But lifts to Glory Troy’s prevailing Bands,
Swells all their Hearts, and strengthens all their Hands.
On Ida’s Top he waits with longing Eyes,
To view the Navy blazing to the Skies;
Then, nor till then, the Scale of War shall turn,
The Trojans fly, and conquer’d Ilion burn.
These Fates revolv’d in his almighty Mind,
He raises Hector to the Work design’d,
Bids him with more than mortal Fury glow,
And drives him, like a Light’ning, on the Foe.
So Mars, when human Crimes for Vengeance call,
Shakes his huge Javelin, and whole Armies fall.
Not with more Rage a Conflagration rolls,
Wraps the vast Mountains, and involves the Poles.
He foames with Wrath; beneath his gloomy Brow
Like fiery Meteors his red Eyeballs glow:
The radiant Helmet on his Temples burns,
Waves when he nods, and lightens as he turns:
For Jove his Splendour round the Chief had thrown,
And cast the Blaze of both the Hosts on one.
Unhappy Glories! for his Fate was near,
Due to stern Pallas, and Pelides’ Spear:
Yet Jove deferr’d the Death he was to pay,
And gave what Fate allow’d, the Honours of a Day!
Now all on fire for Fame; his Breast, his Eyes
Burn at each Foe, and single ev’ry Prize;
Still at the closest Ranks, the thickest Fight,
He points his Ardour, and exerts his Might.
The Grecian Phalanx moveless as a Tow’r,
On all sides batter’d, yet resists his Pow’r:
So some tall Rock o’erhangs the hoary Main,
By Winds assail’d, by Billows beat in vain,
Unmov’d it hears, above, the Tempest blow,
And sees the watry Mountains break below.
Girt in surrounding Flames, he seems to fall
750Like Fire from Jove, and bursts upon them all:
Bursts as a Wave, that from the Clouds impends,
And swell’d with Tempests on the Ship descends;
White are the Decks with Foam; the Winds aloud
Howl o’er the Masts, and sing thro’ ev’ry Shroud:
Pale, trembling, tir’d, the Sailors freeze with Fears;
And instant Death on ev’ry Wave appears.
So pale the Greeks the Eyes of Hector meet,
The Chief so thunders, and so shakes the Fleet.
As when a Lion, rushing from his Den,
Amidst the Plain of some wide-water’d Fen,
(Where num’rous Oxen, as at ease they feed,
At large expatiate o’er the ranker Mead;)
Leaps on the Herds before the Herdsman’s Eyes;
The trembling Herdsman far to distance flies:
Some lordly Bull (the rest dispers’d and fled)
He singles out; arrests, and lays him dead.
Thus from the Rage of Jove- like Hector, flew
All Greece in Heaps; but one he seiz’d, and slew.
Mycenian Periphes, a mighty Name,
In Wisdom great, in Arms well known to Fame:
The Minister of stern Euristheus’ Ire
Against Alcides, Copreus, was his Sire:
The Son redeem’d the Honours of the Race,
A Son as gen’rous as his Sire was base;
O’er all his Country’s Youth conspicuous far,
In ev’ry Virtue, or of Peace or War:
But doom’d to Hector’s stronger Force to yield!
Against the Margin of his ample Shield
He struck his hasty Foot: his Heels up-sprung;
Supine he fell; his brazen Helmet rung.
On the fall’n Chief th’ invading Trojan prest,
And plung’d the pointed Javelin in his Breast.
His circling Friends, who strove to guard too late
Th’ unhappy Hero; fled, or shar’d his Fate.
Chas’d from the foremost Line, the Grecian Train
Now man the next, receding tow’rd the Main:
Wedg’d in one Body at the Tents they stand,
Wall’d round with Sterns, a gloomy, desp’rate Band.
Now manly Shame forbids th’ inglorious Flight;
Now Fear itself confines them to the Fight:
Man Courage breathes in Man; but Nestor most
(The sage Preserver of the Grecian Host)
Exhorts, adjures, to guard these utmost Shores;
And by their Parents, by themselves, implores.
O Friends! be Men: your gen’rous Breasts inflame
With mutual Honour, and with mutual Shame!
Think of your Hopes, your Fortunes; all the Care
Your Wives, your Infants, and your Parents share:
Think of each living Father’s rev’rend Head;
800Think of each Ancestor with Glory dead;
Absent, by me they speak, by me they sue;
They ask their Safety and their Fame from you:
The Gods their Fates on this one Action lay,
And all are lost, if you desert the Day.
He spoke, and round him breath’d heroic Fires;
Minerva seconds what the Sage inspires.
The Mist of Darkness Jove around them threw,
She clear’d, restoring all the War to view;
A sudden Ray shot beaming o’er the Plain,
And shew’d the Shores, the Navy, and the Main:
Hector they saw, and all who fly, or fight,
The Scene wide-opening to the Blaze of Light.
First of the Field, great Ajax strikes their Eyes,
His Port majestick, and his ample Size:
A pond’rous Mace, with Studs of Iron crown’d,
Full twenty Cubits long, he swings around.
Nor fights like others, fix’d to certain Stands,
But looks a moving Tow’r above the Bands;
High on the Decks, with vast gigantic Stride,
The godlike Hero stalks from side to side.
So when a Horseman from the watry Mead
(Skill’d in the Manage of the bounding Steed)
Drives four fair Coursers, practis’d to obey,
To some great City thro’ the publick way;
Safe in his Art, as side by side they run,
He shifts his Seat, and vaults from one to one;
And now to this, and now to that he flies;
Admiring Numbers follow with their Eyes.
From Ship to Ship thus Ajax swiftly flew,
No less the Wonder of the warring Crew.
As furious, Hector thunder’d Threats aloud,
And rush’d enrag’d before the Trojan Croud:
Then swift invades the Ships, whose beaky Prores
Lay rank’d contiguous on the bending Shores.
So the strong Eagle from his airy Height
Who marks the Swan’s or Crane’s embody’d Flight,
Stoops down impetuous, while they light for Food,
And stooping, darkens with his Wings the Flood.
Jove leads him on with his almighty Hand,
And breathes fierce Spirits in his following Band.
The warring Nations meet, the Battel roars,
Thick beats the Combate on the sounding Prores.
Thou wouldst have thought, so furious was their Fire
No Force could tame them, and no Toil could tire;
As if new Vigour from new Fights they won,
And the long Battel was but then begun.
Greece yet unconquer’d, kept alive the War,
Secure of Death, confiding in Despair;
Troy in proud Hopes already view’d the Main
850Bright with the Blaze, and red with Heroes slain:
Like Strength is felt, from Hope, and from Despair,
And each contends, as his were all the War.
’Twas thou, bold Hector! whose resistless Hand
First seiz’d a Ship on that contested Strand;
The same which dead Protesilaus bore,
The first that touch’d th’ unhappy Trojan Shore:
For this in Arms the warring Nations stood,
And bath’d their gen’rous Breasts with mutual Blood.
No room to poize the Lance, or bend the Bow;
But hand to hand, and Man to Man they grow.
Wounded, they wound; and seek each others Hearts
With Faulchions, Axes, Swords, and shorten’d Darts.
The Faulchions ring, Shields rattle, Axes sound,
Swords flash in Air, or glitter on the Ground;
With streaming Blood the slipp’ry Shores are dy’d,
And slaughter’d Heroes swell the dreadful Tyde.
Still raging Hector with his ample Hand
Grasps the high Stern, and gives this loud Command.
Haste, bring the Flames! the Toil of ten long Years
Is finish’d; and the Day desir’d appears!
This happy Day with Acclamations greet,
Bright with Destruction of yon’ hostile Fleet.
The Coward-Counsels of a tim’rous Throng
Of rev’rend Dotards, check’d our Glory long:
Too long Jove lull’d us with lethargic Charms,
But now in Peals of Thunder calls to Arms;
In this great Day he crowns our full Desires,
Wakes all our Force, and seconds all our Fires.
He spoke—The Warriors, at his fierce Command,
Pour a new Deluge on the Grecian Band.
Ev’n Ajax paus’d (so thick the Javelins fly)
Step’d back, and doubted or to live, or die.
Yet where the Oars are plac’d, he stands to wait
What Chief approaching dares attempt his Fate;
Ev’n to the last, his Naval Charge defends,
Now shakes his Spear, now lifts, and now protends,
Ev’n yet, the Greeks with piercing Shouts inspires,
Amidst Attacks, and Deaths, and Darts, and Fires.
O Friends! O Heroes! Names for ever dear,
Once Sons of Mars, and Thunderbolts of War!
Ah yet be mindful of your old Renown,
Your great Forefathers Virtues, and your own.
What Aids expect you in this utmost Strait?
What Bulwarks rising between you and Fate?
No Aids, no Bulwarks your Retreat attend,
No Friends to help, no City to defend.
This Spot is all you have, to lose or keep;
There stand the Trojans, and here rolls the Deep.
’Tis hostile Ground you tread; your native Lands
900Far, far from hence: your Fates are in your Hands.
Raging he spoke; nor farther wastes his Breath,
But turns his Javelin to the Work of Death.
Whate’er bold Trojan arm’d his daring Hands
Against the sable Ships with flaming Brands,
So well the Chief his Naval Weapon sped,
The luckless Warrior at his Stern lay dead:
Full twelve, the boldest, in a Moment fell,
Sent by great Ajax to the Shades of Hell.
Observations on the 15th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note I.
Note I.
ADAM, in Paradise lost, awakes from the Embrace of Eve, in much the same Humour with Jupiter in this Place. Their Circumstance is very parallel; and each of ’em, as soon as his Passion is over, full of that Resentment natural to a Superior, who is imposed upon by one of less Worth and Sense than himself, and imposed upon in the worst manner by Shews of Tenderness and Love.
Note II.
VERSE 23. Hast thou forgot, &c.]
It is in the Original to this Effect. Have you forgot how you swung in the Air when I hung a Load of two Anvils at your Feet, and a Chain of Gold on your Hands?
"Tho’ it is not my Design, says M. Dacier, to give a Reason for every Story in the Pagan Theology, yet I can’t prevail upon my self to pass over this in Silence. The physical Allegory seems very apparent to me: Homer mysteriously in this Place explains the Nature of the
Air, which is Juno; the two Anvils which she had at her Feet are the two Elements, Earth and Water; and the Chains of Gold about her Hands are the Aether, or Fire, which fills the superior Region: The two grosser Elements are called Anvils, to shew us, that in these two Elements only, Arts are exercis’d. I don’t know but that a moral Allegory may here be found, as well as a physical one; the Poet by these Masses tied to the Feet of Juno, and by the Chain of Gold with which her Hands were bound, might signify, that on one side domestick Affairs should like Fetters detain the wise at home; and on the other, that proper and beautiful Works like Chains of Gold ought to employ her Hands."
The physical part of this Note belongs to Heraclides Pontius, Eustathius, and the Scholiast: M. Dacier might have been contented with the Credit of the moral one, as it seems an Observation no less singular in a Lady.
Note III.
VERSE 23.] Eustathius tells us, that there were in some Manuscripts of Homer two Verses which are not to be found in any of the printed Editions, (which Hen. Stephens places here.)
[Greek]
By these two Verses Homer shews us, that what he says of the Punishment of Juno was not an Invention of his own, but founded upon an ancient Tradition. There had probably been some Statue of Juno with Anvils at her Feet, and Chains on her Hands; and nothing but Chains and Anvils being left by Time, superstitious People rais’d this Story; so that Homer only follow’d common Report. What farther confirms it, is what Eustathius adds, that there were shewn near Troy certain Ruins, which were said to be the Remains of these Masses. Dacier.
Note IV.
VERSE 43. And thy black Waves, tremendous Styx!]
The Epithet Homer here gives to Styx is [Greek]subterlabens, which I take to refer to its Passage thro’ the infernal Regions. But there is a Refinement upon it, as if it signify’d ex alto stillans, falling drop by drop from on high. Herodotus in his sixth Book, writes thus.
"The Arcadians say, that near the City Nonacris flows the Water of Styx, and that it is a small Rill, which distilling from an exceeding high Rock, falls into a little Cavity or Bason, environ’d with a Hedge."
Pausanias, who had seen the Place, gives Light to this Passage of Herodotus.
"Going from Phereus, says he, in the Country of the Arcadians, and drawing towards the West, we find on the left the City Clytorus, and on the right that of Nonacris, and the Fountain of Styx, which from the Height of a shaggy Precipiece falls drop by drop upon an exceeding high Rock, and before it has travers’d this Rock, flows into the River Crathis; this Water is mortal both to Man and Beast, and therefore it is said to be an infernal Fountain. Homer gives it a Place in his Poems, and by the Description which he delivers, one would think he had seen it."
This shews the wonderful Exactness of Homer in the Description of Places which he mentions. The Gods swore by Styx, and this was the strongest Oath they could take; but we likewise find that Men too swore by this fatal Water: for Herodotus tells us, that Cleomenes going to Arcadia to engage the Arcadians to follow him in a War against Sparta, had a design to assemble at the City Nonacris, and make them swear by the Water of this Fountain. Dacier. Eustath. in Odyss.
Note V.
VERSE 47. Not by my Arts, &c.]
This Apology is well contriv’d; Juno could not swear that she had not deceiv’d Jupiter, for this had been entirely false, and Homer would be far from authorizing Perjury by so great an Example. Juno, we see, throws part of the Fault on Neptune, by shewing she had not acted in concert with him. Eustathius.
Note VI.
VERSE 67. Greece chas’d by Troy, &c.]
In this Discourse of Jupiter the Poet opens his Design, by giving his Readers a Sketch of the principal Events he is to expect. As this Conduct of Homer may to many appear no way artful, and since it is a principal Article of the Charge brought against him by some late French Criticks, it will not be improper here to look a little into this Dispute. The Case will be best stated by translating the following Passage from Mr. de la Motte’s Reflections sur la Critique.
"I could not forbear wishing that Homer had an Art, which he seems to have neglected, that of preparing Events without making them known beforehand, so that when they happen one might be surprized agreeably. I could not be quite satisfied to hear Jupiter, in the middle of the Iliad, give an exact Abridgment of the Remainder of the Action. Mad. Dacier alledges as an Excuse, that this past only between Jupiter and Juno; as if the Reader was not let into the Secret, and had not as much share in the Confidence.
She adds,
"that as we are capable of a great deal of Pleasure at the Representation of a Tragedy which we have seen before, so the Surprizes which I require are no way necessary to our Entertainment. This I think a pure Piece of Sophistry: One may have two sorts of Pleasure at the Representation of a Tragedy; in the first place, that of taking part in an Action of Importance the first time it passes before our Eyes, of being agitated by Fear and Hope for the Persons one is most concern’d about, and in fine, of partaking their Felicity or Misfortune, as they happen to succeed, or be disappointed. "This therefore is the first Pleasure which the Poet should design to give his Auditors, to transport them by pathetic
"This therefore is the first Pleasure which the Poet should design to give his Auditors, to transport them by pathetic
Surprizes which excite Terror or Pity. The second Pleasure must proceed from a View of that Art which the Author has shewn in raising the former. "’Tis true, when we have seen a Piece already, we have no longer that first Pleasure of the Surprize, at least not in all its Vivacity; but there still remains the second, which could never have its turn, had not the Poet labour’d successfully to excite the first, it being upon that indispensable Obligation that we judge of his Art. "The Art therefore consists in telling the Hearer only what is necessary to be told him, and in telling him only as much as is requisite to the Design of pleasing him. And altho’ we know this already when we read it a second time, we yet taste the Pleasure of that Order and Conduct which the Art required. "From hence it follows, that every Poem ought to be contrived for the first Impression it is to make. If it be otherwise, it gives us (instead of two Pleasures which we expected) two sorts of Disgusts; the one, that of being cool and untouch’d when we should be mov’d and transported; the other, that of perceiving the Defect which caus’d that Disgust. "This, in one word, is what I have found in the Iliad. I was not interested or touch’d by the Adventures, and I saw it was this cooling Preparation that prevented my being so."
Surprizes which excite Terror or Pity. The second Pleasure must proceed from a View of that Art which the Author has shewn in raising the former.
"’Tis true, when we have seen a Piece already, we have no longer that first Pleasure of the Surprize, at least not in all its Vivacity; but there still remains the second, which could never have its turn, had not the Poet labour’d successfully to excite the first, it being upon that indispensable Obligation that we judge of his Art.
"The Art therefore consists in telling the Hearer only what is necessary to be told him, and in telling him only as much as is requisite to the Design of pleasing him. And altho’ we know this already when we read it a second time, we yet taste the Pleasure of that Order and Conduct which the Art required.
"From hence it follows, that every Poem ought to be contrived for the first Impression it is to make. If it be otherwise, it gives us (instead of two Pleasures which we expected) two sorts of Disgusts; the one, that of being cool and untouch’d when we should be mov’d and transported; the other, that of perceiving the Defect which caus’d that Disgust.
"This, in one word, is what I have found in the Iliad. I was not interested or touch’d by the Adventures, and I saw it was this cooling Preparation that prevented my being so."
It appears clearly that M. Dacier’s Defence no way excuses the Poet’s Conduct; wherefore I shall add two or three Considerations which may chance to set it in a better Light. It must be own’d that a Surprize artfully managed, which arises from unexpected Revolutions of great Actions, affects the Mind with a peculiar Delight: In this consists the principal Pleasure of a Romance and well writ Tragedy. But besides this, there is in the Relation of great Events a different kind of Pleasure which arises from the artful unravelling a Knot of Actions, which we knew before in the gross. This is a Delight peculiar to History and Epic Poetry, which is founded on History. In these kinds of writing, a preceding summary Knowledge of the Events described, does no way damp our Curiosity, but rather makes it more eager for the Detail. This is evident in a good History, where generally the Reader is affected with a greater Delight, in proportion to his preceding Knowledge of the Facts described: The Pleasure in this case is like that of an Architect first viewing some magnificent Building, who was before well acquainted with the Proportions of it. In an Epic Poem the case is of a like Nature; where, as if the historical Fore-knowledge were not sufficient, the most judicious Poets never fail to excite their Reader’s Curiosity by some small Sketches of their Design; which like the Outlines of a fine Picture, will necessarily raise in us a greater desire to see it in its finish’d Colouring.
Had our Author been inclined to follow the Method of managing our Passions by Surprizes, he could not well have succeeded by this manner in the Subject he chose to write upon, which being a Story of great Importance, the principal Events of which were well known to the Greeks, it was not possible for him to alter the Ground-work of his Piece; and probably he was willing to mark by these Recapitulations how much of his Story was founded on historical Truths, and that what is superadded were the poetical Ornaments.
There is another Consideration worth remembring on this Head, to justify our Author’s Conduct. It seems to have been an Opinion in these early times, deeply rooted in most Countries and Religions, that the Actions of Men were not only foreknown, but predestinated by a superior Being. This Sentiment is very frequent in the most ancient Writers both sacred and prophane, and seems a distinguishing Character of the Writings of the greatest Antiquity. The Word of the Lord was fulfill’d, is the principal Observation in the History of the Old Testament, and [Greek]is the declared and most obvious Moral of the Iliad. If this great Moral be fit to be represented in Poetry, what Means so proper to make it evident, as this introducing Jupiter foretelling the Events which he had decreed?
Note VII.
VERSE 86. As some way-faring Man, &c.]
The Discourse of Jupiter to Juno being ended, she ascends to Heaven with wonderful Celerity, which the Poet explains by this Comparison. On other Occasions he has illustrated the Action of the Mind by sensible Images from the Motion of the Bodies; here he inverts the Case, and shews the great Velocity of Juno’s Flight by comparing it to the Quickness of Thought. No other Comparison could have equall’d the Speed of an heavenly Being. To render this more beautiful and exact, the Poet describes a Traveller who revolves in his Mind the several Places which he has seen, and in an Instant passes in Imagination from one distant Part of the Earth to another. Milton seems to have had it in his Eye in that elevated Passage,
—The Speed of Gods Time counts not, tho’ with swiftest Minutes wing’d.
As the Sense in which we have explain’d this Passage is exactly literal, as well as truly sublime, one cannot but wonder what should induce both Hobbes and Chapman to ramble so wide from it in their Translations.
This said, went Juno to Olympus high. As when a Man looks o’er an ample Plain, To any distance quickly goes his Eye: So swiftly Juno went with little Pain.
Chapman’s is yet more foreign to the Subject,
But as the Mind of such a Man, that hath a great way gone, And either knowing not his way, or then would let alone His purpos’d Journey; is distract, and in his vexed Mind Resolves now not to go, now goes, still many ways inclin’d—
Note VIII.
VERSE 102. Go thou, the Feasts of Heav’n attend thy Call. ]
This is a Passage worthy our Observation: Homer feigns, that Themis, that is Justice, presides over the Feasts of the Gods; to let us know, that she ought much more to preside over the Feasts of Men. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 114. Juno ’s Speech to the Gods. ]
It was no sort of Exaggeration what the Ancients have affirm’d of Homer, that the Examples of all kinds of Oratory are to be found in his Works. The present Speech of Juno is a Masterpiece in that sort, which seems to say one thing, and persuades another: For while she is only declaring to the Gods the Orders of Jupiter, at the time that she tells ’em they must obey, she fills them with a Reluctance to do it. By representing so strongly the Superiority of his Power, she makes them uneasy at it, and by particularly advising that God to submit, whose Temper could least brook it, she incites him to downright Rebellion. Nothing can be more sly and artfully provoking, than that Stroke on the Death of his darling Son. Do thou, O Mars, teach Obedience to us all, for ’tis upon thee that Jupiter has put the severest Trial: Ascalaphus thy Son lies slain by his means: Bear it with so much Temper and Moderation, that the World may not think he was thy Son.
Note X.
VERSE 134. To Fear and Flight.—]
Homer does not say, that Mars commanded they should join his Horses to his Chariot, which Horses were call’d Fear and Flight. Fear and Flight are not the Names of the Horses of Mars, but the Names of two Furies in the Service of this God: It appears likewise by other Passages, that they were his Children, Book 13. ℣. 299. This is a very ancient Mistake; Eustathius mentions it as an Error of Antimachus, yet Hobbes and most others have fallen into it.
Note XI.
VERSE 164. Go wait the Thund’rer’s Will. ]
’Tis remarkable, that whereas it is familiar with the Poet to repeat his Errands and Messages, here he introduces Juno with very few Words, where she carries a Dispatch from Jupiter to Iris and Apollo. She only says,
" Jove commands you to attend him on Mount Ida, "
and adds nothing of what had pass’d between herself and her Consort before. The reason of this Brevity is not only that she is highly disgusted with Jupiter, and so unwilling to tell her Tale from the Anguish of her Heart; but also because Jupiter had given her no Commission to relate fully the Subject of their Discourse; wherefore she is cautious of declaring what possibly he would have concealed. Neither does Jupiter himself in what follows reveal his Decrees: For he lets Apollo only so far into his Will, that he would have him discover and rout the Greeks: Their good Fortune, and the Success which was to ensue, he hides from him, as one who favour’d the Cause of Troy. One may remark in this Passage Homer’s various Conduct and Discretion concerning what ought to be put in Practice, or left undone; whereby his Reader may be inform’d how to regulate his own Affairs. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 210. Three Brother Deities, from Saturn came, And ancient Rhea, Earth’s immortal Dame: Assign’d by Lot, our Triple Rule we know, &c.
Some have thought the Platonic Philosophers drew from hence the Notion of their Triad (which the Christian Platonists since imagined to be an obscure Hint of the Sacred Trinity. ) The Trias of Plato is well known, [Greek]In his Gorgias he tells us, [Greek](autorem sc. fuisse) [Greek]. See Proclus in Plat. Theol. lib. 1. c. 5. Lucian Philopatr. Aristotle de coelo, l. 1. c. 1. speaking of the Ternarian Number from Pythagoras, has these Words; [Greek]. From which Passage Trapezuntius endeavour’d very seriously to prove, that Aristotle had a perfect Knowledge of the Trinity. Duport (who furnish’d me with this Note, and who seems to be sensible of the Folly of Trapezuntius ) nevertheless in his Gnomologia Homerica, or Comparison of our Author’s Sentences with those of the Scripture, has placed opposite to this Verse that of St. John. There are three who give Testimony in Heaven, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. I think this the strongest Instance I ever met with of the manner of thinking of such Men, whose too much Learning has made them mad.
Lactantius, de Fals. Relig. lib. 1. cap. 11. takes this Fable to be a Remain of ancient History, importing, that the Empire of the then known World was divided among the three Brothers; to Jupiter the Oriental part, which was call’d Heaven, as the Region of Light, or the Sun: To Pluto the Occidental, or darker Regions: And to Neptune the Sovereignty of the Seas.
Note XIII.
VERSE 228. To elder Brothers. ]
Iris, that she may not seem to upbraid Neptune with Weakness of Judgment, out of Regard to the Greatness and Dignity of his Person, does not say that Jupiter is stronger or braver; but attacking him from a Motive not in the least invidious, Superiority of Age, she says sententiously, that the Furies wait upon our Elders. The Furies are said to wait upon Men in a double Sense: either for Evil, as they did upon Orestes after he had slain his Mother; or else for their good, as upon Elders when they are injur’d, to protect them and avenge their Wrongs. This is an Instance that the Pagans look’d upon Birth-right as a Right divine. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 252. Else had our Wrath, &c.]
This Representation of the Terrors which must have attended the Conflict of two such mighty Powers as Jupiter and Neptune, whereby the Elements had been mix’d in Confusion, and the whole Frame of Nature endangered, is imaged in these few Lines with a Nobleness suitable to the Occasion. Milton has a Thought very like it in his fourth Book, where he represents what must have happen’d if Satan and Gabriel had encounter’d.
—Not only Paradise In this Commotion, but the starry Cope Of Heav’n, perhaps, and all the Elements At least had gone to wrack, disturb’d and torn With Violence of this Conflict, had not soon Th’ Almighty, to prevent such horrid Fray, &c.
Note XV.
VERSE 274. Jove thinking of his Pains, they past away. ]
Eustathius observes, that this is a very sublime Representation of the Power of Jupiter, to make Hector’s Pains cease from the Moment wherein Jupiter first turn’d his Thoughts towards him. Apollo finds him so far recover’d, as to be able to sit up, and know his Friends. Thus much was the Work of Jupiter; the God of Health perfects the Cure.
Note XVI.
VERSE 298. As when the pamper’d Steed. ]
This Comparison is repeated from the sixth Book, and we are told that the ancient Criticks retain’d no more than the two first Verses and the four last in this Place, and that they gave the Verses two Marks; by the one (which was the Asterism) they intimated, that the four Lines were very beautiful; but by the other (which was the Obelus ) that they were ill placed. I believe an impartial Reader who considers the two Places will be of the same Opinion.
Tasso has improv’d the Justness of this Simile in his sixteenth Book, where Rinaldo returning from the Arms of Armida to Battel, is compared to the Steed that is taken from his Pastures and Mares to the Service of the War: The Reverse of the Circumstance better agreeing with the Occasion.
Qual feroce destrier, ch’al faticoso Honor de l’arme vincitor sia tolto, E lascivo marito in vil riposo Frà gli armenti, e ne’paschi erri disciolto; Se’l desta o suon di tromba, o luminoso Acciar, colà tosto annittendo è volto; Già già brama l’arringo, e l’huom sùl dorso Portando, urtato riurtar nel corso.
Note XVII.
VERSE 311. For Fate preserves them. ]
Dacier has a pretty Remark on this Passage, that Homer extended Destiny (that is, the Care of Providence) even over the Beasts of the Field; an Opinion that agrees perfectly with true Theology. In the Book of Jonas, the Regard of the Creator extending to the meanest Rank of his Creatures, is strongly express’d in those Words of the Almighty, where he makes his Compassion to the Brute Beasts one of the Reasons against destroying Nineveh. Shall I not spare the great City, in which there are more than sixscore thousand Persons, and also much Cattel? And what is still more parallel to this Passage, in St. Matth. Ch. 10. Are not two Sparrows sold for a Farthing? And yet one of them shall not fall to the Ground, without your Father.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 363. But when aloft he shakes. ]
Apollo in this Passage by the mere shaking his Aegis, without acting offensively, annoys and puts the Greeks into Disorder. Eustathius thinks that such a Motion might possibly create the same Confusion, as hath been reported by Historians to proceed from Panic Fears: or that it might intimate some dreadful Confusion in the Air, and a Noise issuing from thence; a Notion which seems to be warranted by Apollo’s Outcry, which presently follows in the same Verse. But perhaps we need not go so far to account for this Fiction of Homer: The Sight of a Hero’s Armour often has the like Effect in an Epic Poem: The Shield of Prince Arthur in Spencer works the same Wonders with this Aegis of Apollo.
Note XIX.
VERSE 386. By Paris, Deiochus inglorious dies, Pierc’d thro’ the Shoulder as he basely flies. ]
Here is one that falls under the Spear of Paris, smitten in the Extremity of his Shoulder, as he was flying. This gives occasion to a pretty Observation in Eustathius, that this is the only Greek who falls by a Wound in the Back, so careful is Homer of the Honour of his Countrymen. And this Remark will appear not ill grounded, if we except the Death of Eioneus in the beginning of Lib. 6.
Note XX.
VERSE 396. For by the Gods, who slies, &c.]
It sometimes happens (says Longinus ) that a Writer in speaking of some Person, all on a sudden puts himself in that other’s Place, and acts his part; a Figure which marks the Impetuosity and Hurry of Passion. It is this which Homer practises in these Verses; the Poet stops his Narration, forgets his own Person, and instantly, without any Notice puts this precipitate Menace into the Mouth of his furious and transported Hero. How must his Discourse have languish’d, had he stay’d to tell us, Hector then said these, or the like Words. Instead of which by this unexpected Transition he prevents the Reader, and the Transition is made before the Poet himself seems sensible he had made it. The true and proper Place for this Figure is when the Time presses, and when the Occasion will not allow of any Delay: It is elegant then to pass from one Person to another, as in that of Hecataeus. The Herald, extremely discontented at the Orders he had receiv’d, gave command to the Heraclidae to withdraw.—It is no way in my Power to help you; if therefore you would not perish entirely, and if you would not involve me too in your Ruin, depart, and seek a Retreat among some other People. Longinus, ch. 23.
Note XXI.
VERSE 416. As when ashore an Infant stands. ]
This Simile of the Sand is inimitable; it is not easy to imagine any thing more exact and emphatical to describe the tumbling and confus’d Heap of a Wall, in a Moment. Moreover the Comparison here taken from Sand is the juster, as it rises from the very Place and Scene before us. For the Wall here demolished, as it was founded on the Coast, must needs border on the Sand; wherefore the Similitude is borrowed immediately from the Subject Matter under View. Eustathius.
Note XXII.
VERSE 427, Oh Jove! if ever, &c.]
The Form of Nestor’s Prayer in this Place resembles that of Chryses in the first Book. And it is worth remarking, that the Poet well knew what Shame and Confusion the reminding one of past Benefits is apt to produce. From the same Topick Achilles talks with his Mother, and Thetis herself accosts Jove; and likewise Phoenix where he holds a Parley with Achilles. This righteous Prayer hath its wished Accomplishment. Eustathius.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 438. Presumptuous Troy mistook the Sign. ]
The Thunder of Jupiter is design’d as a Mark of his Acceptance of Nestor’s Prayers, and a Sign of his Favour to the Greeks. However, there being nothing in the Prodigy particular to the Greeks, the Trojans expound it in their own Favour, as they seem warranted by their present Success. This Selfpartiality of Men in appropriating to themselves the Protection of Heaven, has always been natural to them. In the same manner Virgil makes Turnus explain the Transformation of the Trojan Ships into Nymphs, as an ill Omen to the Trojans.
Trojanos haec monstra petunt, his Jupiter ipse Auxilium solitum eripuit.—
History furnishes many Instances of Oracles, which by reason of this partial Interpretation, have prov’d an occasion to lead Men into great Misfortunes: It was the Case of Craesus in his Wars with Cyrus; and a like Mistake engaged Pyrrhus to make War upon the Romans.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 448. On the Ships above, the Cars below. ]
This is a new sort of Battel, which Homer has never before mention’d; the Greeks on their Ships, and the Trojans in their Chariots, fight as on a Plain. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 472. Nor could the Trojans —Force to the Fleet and Tents th’ impervious way. ]
Homer always marks distinctly the Place of Battel; he here shews us clearly, that the Trojans attack’d the first Line of the Fleet that stood next the Wall, or the Vessels which were drawn foremost on the Land: These Vessels were a strong Rampart to the Tents, which were pitch’d behind, and to the other Line of the Navy which stood nearer to the Sea; to penetrate therefore to the Tents, they must necessarily force the first Line, and defeat the Troops which defended it. Eustathius.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 582. Death is the worst, &c.]
’Tis with very great Address, that to the Bitterness of Death, he adds the Advantages that were to accrue after it. And the Ancients are of Opinion, that ’twou’d be as advantageous for young Soldiers to read this Lesson, concise as it is, as all the Volumes of Tyrtaeus, wherein he endeavours to raise the Spirits of his Countrymen. Homer makes a noble Enumeration of the Parts wherein the Happiness of a City consists. For having told us in another Place, the three great Evils to which a Town, when taken, is subject; the Slaughter of the Men, the Destruction of the Place by Fire; the leading of their Wives and Children into Captivity: now he reckons up the Blessings that are contrary to those Calamities. To the Slaughter of the Men indeed he makes no Opposition; because it is not necessary to the Well-being of a City, that every Individual should be saved, and not a Man slain. Eustathius.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 590. The godlike Ajax next. ]
The Oration of Hector is more splendid and shining than that of Ajax, and also more solemn, from his Sentiments concerning the Favour and Assistance of Jupiter. But that of Ajax is the more politick, fuller of Management, and apter to persuade: For it abounds with no less than seven generous Arguments to inspire Resolution. He exhorts his People even to Death, from the Danger to which their Navy was exposed, which if once consumed, they were never like to get home. And as the Trojans were bid to die, so he bids his Men dare to die likewise: and indeed with great Necessity, for the Trojans may recruit after the Engagement, but for the Greeks, they had no better way than to hazard their Lives; and if they should gain nothing else by it, yet at least they would have a speedy Dispatch, not a lingring and dilatory Destruction. Eustathius.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 677. And flank the Navy with a Brazen Wall. ]
The Poet has built the Grecians a different sort of Wall from what they had before, out of their Arms; and perhaps one might say, that ’twas from this Passage Apollo borrow’d that Oracle which he gave to the Athenians about their Wall of Wood; in like manner, the Spartans were said to have a Wall of Bones: If so, we must allow the God not a little obliged to the Poet. Eustathius.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 723. He raises Hector, &c.]
This Picture of Hector, impuls’d by Jupiter, is a very finish’d Piece, and excels all the Drawings of this Hero which Homer has given us in so various Attitudes. He is here represented as an Instrument in the Hand of Jupiter, to bring about those Designs the God had long projected: And as his fatal Hour now approaches, Jove is willing to recompence his hasty Death with this short-liv’d Glory. Accordingly this being the last Scene of Victory he is to appear in, the Poet introduces him with all imaginable Pomp, and adorns him with all the Terror of a Conqueror: His Eyes sparkle with Fire, his Mouth foams with Fury, his Figure is compared to the God of War, his Rage is equall’d to a Conflagration and a Storm, and the Destruction he causes is resembled to that which a Lyon makes among the Herds. The Poet, by this Heap of Comparisons, raises the Idea of the Hero higher than any single Description could reach.
Note XXX.
VERSE 736. —His Fate was near—Due to stern Pallas.]
It may be ask’d, what Pallas has to do with the Fates, or what Power has she over them? Homer speaks thus, because Minerva has already resolv’d to succour Achilles, and deceive Hector in the Combate between these two Heroes, as we find in Book 22. Properly speaking, Pallas is nothing but the Knowledge and Wisdom of Jove, and it is Wisdom which presides over the Councels of his Providence; therefore she may be look’d upon as drawing all things to the fatal Term to which they are decreed. Dacier.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 752. Bursts as a Wave, &c.]
Longinus, observing that oftentimes the principal Beauty of Writing consists in the judicious assembling together of the great Circumstances, and the Strength with which they are mark’d in the proper Place, chuses this Passage of Homer as a plain Instance of it.
"Where (says that noble Critick) in describing the Terror of a Tempest, he takes care to express whatever are the Accidents of most Dread and Horror in such a Situation: He is not content to tell us that the Mariners were in danger, but he brings them before our Eyes, as in a Picture, upon the Point of being every Moment overwhelm’d by every Wave; nay the very Words and Syllables of the Description give us an Image of their Peril."
He shews, that a Poet of less Judgment would amuse himself in less important Circumstances, and spoil the whole Effect of the Image by minute, ill-chosen, or superfluous Particulars. Thus Aratus endeavouring to refine upon that Line,
And instant Death on ev’ry Wave appears!
He turn’d it thus,
A slender Plank preserves them from their Fate.
Which, by flourishing upon the Thought, has lost the Loftiness and Terror of it, and is so far from improving the Image, that it lessens and vanishes in his Management. By confining the Danger to a single Line, he has scarce left the Shadow of it; and indeed the word preserves takes away even that. The same Critick produces a Fragment of an old Poem on the Arimaspians, written in this false Taste, whose Author he doubts not imagin’d he had said something wonderful in the following affected Verses. I have done my best to give ’em the same turn, and believe there are those, who will not think ’em bad ones.
Ye Pow’rs! what Madness! How, on Ships so frail, (Tremendous Thought!) can thoughtless Mortals sail? For stormy Seas they quit the pleasing Plain, Plant Woods in Waves, and dwell amidst the Main. Far o’er the Deep (a trackless Path) they goe, And wander Oceans, in pursuit of Woe. No Ease their Hearts, no Rest their Eyes can find, On Heav’n their Looks, and on the Waves their Mind; Sunk are their Spirits, while their Arms they rear; And Gods are weary’d with their fruitless Pray’r.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 796. Nestor ’s Speech. ]
This popular Harangue of Nestor is justly extoll’d as the strongest and most persuasive Piece of Oratory imaginable. It contains in it every Motive by which Men can be affected; the Preservation of their Wives and Children, the secure Possession of their Fortunes, the Respect of their living Parents, and the due Regard for the Memory of those that were departed: By these he diverts the Grecians from any Thoughts of Flight in the Article of extreme Peril. Eustathius. This noble Exhortation is finely imitated by Tasso, Jerusalem. l. 20.
—O valoroso, hor via con questa Faccia, a ritor la preda a noi rapita. L’imagine ad alcuno in mente desta, Glie la figura quasi, e glie l’addita De la pregante patria e de la mesta Supplice famiglivola sbigottita. Credi (dicea) che la tua patria spieghi Per la mia lingua in tai parole i preghi. Guarda tù le mie leggi, e i sacri Tempi Fà, ch’io del sangue mio non bagni, e lavi, Assicura le virgini da gli empi, E i sepolchri, e le cinere de gli avi. A te piangendo i lor passati tempi Mostran la bianca chioma i vecchi gravi: A tè la moglie, e le mammelle, e’l petto, Le cune, e i figli, e’l marital suo letto.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 814. First of the Field, great Ajax.]
In this very Book, Homer, to raise the Valour of Hector, gives him Neptune for an Antagonist; and to raise that of Ajax, he first opposed to him Hector, supported by Apollo, and now the same Hector impell’d and seconded by Jupiter himself. These are Strokes of a Master-hand. Eustathius.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 824. Drives four fair Coursers, &c.]
The Comparison which Homer here introduces, is a Demonstration, that the Art of mounting and managing Horses was brought to so great a Perfection in these early Times, that one Man could manage four at once, and leap from one to the other even when they run full speed. But some object, that the Custom of Riding was not known in Greece at the time of the Trojan War: Besides, they say the Comparison is not just, for the Horses are said to run full speed, whereas the Ships stand firm and unmov’d. Had Homer put the Comparison in the Mouth of one of his Heroes, the Objection had been just, and he guilty of an Inconsistency; but it is he himself who speaks: Saddle-Horses were in use in his Age, and any Poet may be allow’d to illustrate Pieces of Antiquity by Images familiar to his own Times. This I hope is sufficient for the first Objection; nor is the second more reasonable than this; for it is not absolutely necessary that Comparisons should correspond in every Particular; it suffices if there be a general Resemblance. This is only introduced to shew the Agility of Ajax, who passes swiftly from one Vessel to another, and is therefore entirely just. Eustathius.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 856. The same that dead Protesilaus bore. ]
Homer feigns that Hector laid hold on the Ship of the dead Protesilaus, rather than that of any other, that he might not disgrace any of his Grecian Generals. Eustathius.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 874. The Coward Counsels of a tim’rous Throng Of rev’rend Dotards.— ]
Homer adds this with a great deal of Art and Prudence, to answer beforehand all the Objections which he well foresaw might be made, because Hector never till now once attacks the Grecians in their Camp, or endeavours to burn their Navy. He was retain’d by the Elders of Troy, who frozen with Fear at the Sight of Achilles, never suffer’d him to march from the Ramparts. Our Author forgets nothing that has the Resemblance of Truth; but he had yet a farther Reason for inserting this, as it exalts the Glory of his principal Hero: These Elders of Troy thought it less difficult to defeat the Greeks, tho’ defended with strong Entrenchments, while Achilles was not with them; than to overcome them without Entrenchments when he assisted them. And this is the reason that they prohibited Hector before, and permit him now, to sally upon the Enemy. Dacier.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 877. But now Jove calls to Arms, &c.]
Hector seems to be sensible of an extraordinary Impulse from Heaven, signified by these Words, the most mighty Hand of Jove pushing him on. ’Tis no more than any other Person would be ready to imagine, who should rise from a State of Distress or Indolence, into one of good Fortune, Vigour, and Activity. Eustathius.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 890. The Speech of Ajax.]
There is great Strength, Closeness, and Spirit in this Speech, and one might (like many Criticks) employ a whole Page in extolling and admiring it in general Terms. But sure the perpetual Rapture of such Commentators, who are always giving us Exclamations instead of Criticisms, may be a Mark of great Admiration, but of little Judgment. Of what Use is this either to a Reader who has a Taste, or to one who has not? To admire a fine Passage is what the former will do without us, and what the latter cannot be taught to do by us. However we ought gratefully to acknowledge the good Nature of most People, who are not only pleased with this superficial Applause given to fine Passages, but are likewise inclined to transfer to the Critick, who only points at these Beauties, part of the Admiration justly due to the Poet. This is a cheap and easy way to Fame, which many Writers ancient and modern have pursued with great Success. Formerly indeed this sort of Authors had Modesty, and were humbly content to call their Performances only Florilegia or Posies: But some of late have pass’d such Collections on the World for Criticisms of great Depth and Learning, and seem to expect the same Flowers should please us better, in these paltry Nosegays of their own making up, than in the native Gardens where they grew. As this Practice of extolling without giving Reasons, is very convenient for most Writers; so it excellently suits the Ignorance or Laziness of most Readers, who will come into any Sentiment rather than take the trouble of refuting it. Thus the Complement is mutual: For as such Criticks do not tax their Readers with any thought to understand them, so their Readers in Return advance nothing in Opposition to such Criticks. They may go roundly on, admiring and exclaiming in this manner; What an exquisite Spirit of Poetry—How beautiful a Circumstance—What Delicacy of Sentiments—With what Art has the Poet—In how sublime and just a manner—How finely imagined—How wonderfully beautiful and poetical— And so proceed, without one Reason to interrupt the Course of their Eloquence, most comfortably and ignorantly Apostrophising to the end of the Chapter.
Note I.
ADAM, in Paradise lost, awakes from the Embrace of Eve, in much the same Humour with Jupiter in this Place. Their Circumstance is very parallel; and each of ’em, as soon as his Passion is over, full of that Resentment natural to a Superior, who is imposed upon by one of less Worth and Sense than himself, and imposed upon in the worst manner by Shews of Tenderness and Love.
Book XVI THE SIXTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
PAtroclus (in Pursuance of the Request of Nestor in the eleventh Book) entreats Achilles to suffer him to go to the Assistance of the Greeks with Achilles’s Troops and Armour. He agrees to it, but at the same time charges him to content himself with rescuing the Fleet, without farther Pursuit of the Enemy. The Armour, Horses, Soldiers, and Officers of Achilles are described. Achilles offers a Libation for the Success of his Friend, after which Patroclus leads the Myrmidons to Battel. The Trojans at the Sight of Patroclus in Achilles’s Armour, taking him for that Hero, are cast into the utmost Consternation: He beats them off from the Vessels, Hector himself flies, Sarpedon is kill’d, tho’ Jupiter was averse to his Fate. Several other Particulars of the Battel are described; in the Heat of which, Patroclus, neglecting the Orders of Achilles, pursues the Foe to the Walls of Troy; where Apollo repulses and disarms him, Euphorbus wounds him, and Hector kills him, which concludes the Book.
Index to The Argument
- [1-65] Patroclus's Plea to Achilles
- [66-127] Achilles Grants His Armor with a Fateful Command
- [128-153] Hector Overwhelms Ajax and Burns a Ship
- [154-189] The Arming of Patroclus
- [190-267] Achilles Rouses the Myrmidons
- [268-309] Achilles's Prayer to Jove for Patroclus
- [310-425] Patroclus Routs the Trojans
- [426-511] Patroclus Drives Hector Back
- [512-563] Jove Laments the Fate of His Son, Sarpedon
- [564-624] Patroclus Slays Sarpedon
- [625-772] The Fight for Sarpedon's Body
- [773-836] Apollo Rescues Sarpedon's Body
- [837-868] Apollo Repels Patroclus from Troy's Walls
- [869-937] Patroclus Kills Hector's Charioteer, Cebrion
- [938-982] Apollo Disarms Patroclus
- [983-1031] Hector Kills Patroclus, Who Delivers a Prophecy
- [1032-1049] Hector Attempts to Capture Achilles's Horses
SO warr’d both Armies on th’ ensanguin’d Shore,
While the black Vessels smoak’d with human gore.
Meantime Patroclus to Achilles flies;
The streaming Tears fall copious from his Eyes;
Not faster, trickling to the Plains below,
From the tall Rock the sable Waters flow.
Divine Pelides, with Compassion mov’d,
Thus spoke, indulgent to his best belov’d.
Patroclus, say, what Grief thy Bosom bears,
That flows so fast in these unmanly Tears?
No Girl, no Infant whom the Mother keeps
From her lov’d Breast, with fonder Passion weeps;
Not more the Mother’s Soul that Infant warms,
Clung to her Knees, and reaching at her Arms,
Than thou hast mine! Oh tell me, to what end
Thy melting Sorrows thus pursue thy Friend?
Griev’st thou for me, or for my martial Band?
Or come sad Tidings from our native Land?
Our Fathers live, (our first, most tender Care)
Thy good Menoetius breathes the vital Air,
And hoary Peleus yet extends his Days;
Pleas’d in their Age to hear their Children’s Praise.
Or may some meaner Cause thy Pity claim?
Perhaps yon’ Reliques of the Grecian Name,
Doom’d in their Ships to sink by Fire and Sword,
And pay the Forfeit of their haughty Lord?
Whate’er the Cause, reveal thy secret Care,
And speak those Sorrows which a Friend would share.
A Sigh, that instant, from his Bosom broke,
Another follow’d, and Patroclus spoke.
Let Greece at length with Pity touch thy Breast,
Thy self a Greek; and, once, of Greeks the best!
Lo! ev’ry Chief that might her Fate prevent,
Lies pierc’d with Wounds, and bleeding in his Tent.
Eurypylus, Tydides, Atreus’ Son,
And wise Ulysses, at the Navy groan
More for their Country’s Wounds, than for their own.
Their Pain, soft Arts of Pharmacy can ease,
Thy Breast alone no Lenitives appease.
May never Rage like thine my Soul enslave,
O great in vain! unprofitably brave!
Thy Country slighted in her last Distress,
What Friend, what Man, from thee shall hope redress?
No—Men unborn, and Ages yet behind,
Shall curse that fierce, that unforgiving Mind.
O Man unpitying! if of Man thy Race;
But sure thou spring’st not from a soft Embrace,
Nor ever am’rous Hero caus’d thy Birth,
Nor ever tender Goddess brought thee forth.
Some rugged Rock’s hard Entrails gave thee Form,
50And raging Seas produc’d thee in a Storm,
A Soul well-suiting that tempestuous Kind,
So rough thy Manners, so untam’d thy Mind.
If some dire Oracle thy Breast alarm,
If ought from Jove, or Thetis, stop thy Arm,
Some Beam of Comfort yet on Greece may shine,
If I but lead the Myrmidonian Line:
Clad in thy dreadful Arms if I appear,
Proud Troy shall tremble, and desert the War:
Without thy Person Greece shall win the Day,
And thy mere Image chase her Foes away.
Press’d by fresh Forces, her o’erlabour’d Train
Shall quit the Ships, and Greece respire again.
Thus, blind to Fate! with supplicating Breath,
Thou beg’st his Arms, and in his Arms, thy Death.
Unfortunately Good! a boding Sigh
Thy Friend return’d; and with it, this Reply.
Patroclus! thy Achilles knows no Fears;
Nor Words from Jove, nor Oracles he hears;
Nor ought a Mother’s Caution can suggest;
The Tyrant’s Pride lies rooted in my Breast.
My Wrongs, my Wrongs, my constant Thought engage,
Those, my sole Oracles, inspire my Rage:
I made him Tyrant; gave him Pow’r to wrong
Ev’n me: I felt it; and shall feel it long.
The Maid, my black-ey’d Maid, he forc’d away,
Due to the Toils of many a well-fought Day;
Due to my Conquest of her Father’s Reign;
Due to the Votes of all the Grecian Train.
From me he forc’d her; me, the bold and brave;
Disgrac’d, dishonour’d, like the meanest Slave.
But bear we this—The Wrongs I grieve, are past;
’Tis time our Fury should relent at last:
I fix’d its Date; the Day I wish’d appears:
Now Hector to my Ships his Battel bears,
The Flames my Eyes, the Shouts invade my Ears.
Go then Patroclus! court fair Honour’s Charms
In Troy’s fam’d Fields, and in Achilles’ Arms
Lead forth my martial Myrmidons to fight,
Go save the Fleets, and conquer in my right.
See the thin Reliques of their baffled Band,
At the last Edge of yon’ deserted Land!
Behold all Ilion on their Ships descends;
How the Cloud blackens, how the Storm impends!
It was not thus, when, at my Sight amaz’d,
Troy saw and trembled, as this Helmet blaz’d:
Had not th’ injurious King our Friendship lost,
Yon’ ample Trench had bury’d half her Host.
No Camps, no Bulwarks now the Trojans fear,
Those are not dreadful, no Achilles there:
100No longer flames the Lance of Tydeus’ Son;
No more your Gen’ral calls his Heroes on;
Hector, alone, I hear; His dreadful Breath
Commands your Slaughter, or proclaims your Death.
Yet now, Patroclus, issue to the Plain;
Now save the Ships, the rising Fires restrain,
And give the Greeks to visit Greece again.
But heed my Words, and mark a Friend’s Command
Who trusts his Fame and Honours in thy Hand,
And from thy Deeds expects, th’ Achaian Host
Shall render back the beauteous Maid he lost:
Rage uncontroul’d thro’ all the hostile Crew,
But touch not Hector, Hector is my due.
Tho’ Jove in Thunder should command the War,
Be just, consult my Glory, and forbear.
The Fleet once sav’d, desist from farther chace,
Nor lead to Ilion’s Walls the Grecian Race;
Some adverse God thy Rashness may destroy;
Some God, like Phoebus, ever kind to Troy.
Let Greece, redeem’d from this destructive Strait,
Do her own Work, and leave the rest to Fate.
Oh! would to all th’ immortal Pow’rs above,
Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove!
That not one Trojan might be left alive,
And not a Greek of all the Race survive;
Might only we the vast Destruction shun,
And only we destroy th’ accursed Town!
Such Conf’rence held the Chiefs: while on the Strand,
Great Jove with Conquest crown’d the Trojan Band.
Ajax no more the sounding Storm sustain’d,
So thick, the Darts an Iron Tempest rain’d:
On his tir’d Arm the weighty Buckler hung;
His hollow Helm with falling Javelins rung;
His Breath, in quick, short Pantings, comes, and goes;
And painful Sweat from all his Members flows.
Spent and o’erpow’r’d, he barely breathes at most;
Yet scarce an Army stirs him from his Post:
Dangers on Dangers all around him grow,
And Toil to Toil, and Woe succeeds to Woe.
Say, Muses, thron’d above the starry Frame,
How first the Navy blaz’d with Trojan Flame?
Stern Hector wav’d his Sword; and standing near
Where furious Ajax ply’d his Ashen Spear,
Full on the Lance a Stroke so justly sped,
That the broad Faulchion lopp’d its brazen Head:
His pointless Spear the Warrior shakes in vain;
The brazen Head falls sounding on the Plain.
Great Ajax saw, and own’d the Hand divine,
Confessing Jove, and trembling at the Sign;
Warn’d, he retreats. Then swift from all sides pour
150The hissing Brands; thick streams the fiery Show’r;
O’er the high Stern the curling Volumes rise,
And Sheets of rolling Smoke involve the Skies.
Divine Achilles view’d the rising Flames,
And smote his Thigh, and thus aloud exclaims.
Arm, arm, Patroclus! Lo, the Blaze aspires!
The glowing Ocean reddens with the Fires.
Arm, e’er our Vessels catch the spreading Flame;
Arm, e’er the Grecians be no more a Name;
I haste to bring the Troops.—The Hero said;
The Friend with Ardour and with Joy obey’d.
He cas’d his Limbs in Brass, and first around,
His manly Legs, with silver Buckles bound
The clasping Greaves; then to his Breast applies
The flamy Cuirass, of a thousand Dyes;
Emblaz’d with Studs of Gold, his Faulchion shone,
In the rich Belt, as in a starry Zone.
Achilles’ Shield his ample Shoulders spread,
Achilles’ Helmet nodded o’er his Head.
Adorn’d in all his terrible Array,
He flash’d around intolerable Day.
Alone, untouch’d, Pelides’ Javelin stands,
Not to be pois’d but by Pelides’ Hands:
From Pelion’s shady Brow the Plant entire
Old Chiron rent, and shap’d it for his Sire;
Whose Son’s great Arm alone the Weapon wields,
The Death of Heroes, and the dread of Fields.
Then brave Automedon (an honour’d Name,
The second to his Lord in Love and Fame,
In Peace his Friend, and Part’ner of the War)
The winged Coursers harness’d to the Car.
Xanthus and Balius, of immortal Breed,
Sprung from the Wind, and like the Wind in speed;
Whom the wing’d Harpye, swift Podarge, bore,
By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy Shore.
Swift Pedasus was added to their side,
(Once great Aëtion’s, now Achilles’ Pride)
Who, like in Strength, in Swiftness, and in Grace,
A mortal Courser match’d th’ immortal Race.
Achilles speeds from Tent to Tent, and warms
His hardy Myrmidons to Blood and Arms.
All breathing Death, around their Chief they stand,
A grim, terrific, formidable Band:
Grim as voracious Wolves that seek the Springs
When scalding Thirst their burning Bowels wrings.
(When some tall Stag fresh-slaughter’d in the Wood
Has drench’d their wide, insatiate Throats with Blood)
To the black Fount they rush a hideous Throng,
With Paunch distended, and with rolling Tongue,
Fire fills their Eyes, their black Jaws belch the Gore,
200And gorg’d with Slaughter, still they thirst for more.
Like furious, rush’d the Myrmidonian Crew,
Such their dread Strength, and such their deathful View.
High in the midst the great Achilles stands,
Directs their Order, and the War commands.
He, lov’d of Jove, had launch’d for Ilion’s Shores
Full fifty Vessels, mann’d with fifty Oars:
Five chosen Leaders the fierce Bands obey,
Himself supreme in Valour, as in Sway.
First march’d Menestheus, of celestial Birth,
Deriv’d from thee whose Waters wash the Earth,
Divine Sperchius! Jove- descended Flood!
A mortal Mother mixing with a God.
Such was Menestheus, but mis-call’d by Fame
The Son of Borus, that espous’d the Dame.
Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay,
Fam’d in the graceful Dance, produc’d to Day.
Her, sly Cyllenius lov’d; on her would gaze,
As with swift Step she form’d the running Maze:
To her high Chamber, from Diana’s Quire,
The God pursu’d her, urg’d, and crown’d his Fire.
The Son confess’d his Father’s heav’nly Race,
And heir’d his Mother’s Swiftness, in the Chace.
Strong Echecloeus, blest in all those Charms
That pleas’d a God, succeeded to her Arms;
Not conscious of her Love, long hid from Fame,
With Gifts of Price he sought and won the Dame;
Her secret Offspring to her Sire she bare;
Her Sire caress’d him with a Parent’s Care.
Pisander follow’d; matchless in his Art
To wing the Spear, or aim the distant Dart;
No Hand so sure of all th’ Emathian Line,
Or if a surer, great Patroclus! thine.
The fourth by Phoenix’ grave Command was grac’d;
Laerces’ valiant Offspring led the last.
Soon as Achilles, with superior Care,
Had call’d the Chiefs, and order’d all the War,
This stern Remembrance to his Troops he gave:
Ye far-fam’d Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave!
Think with what Threats you dar’d the Trojan Throng,
Think what Reproach these Ears endur’d so long,
"Stern Son of Peleus (thus ye us’d to say,
While restless, raging, in your Ships you lay)
"Oh nurs’d with Gall, unknowing how to yield!
"Whose Rage defrauds us of so fam’d a Field.
"If that dire Fury must for ever burn,
"What make we here? Return, ye Chiefs, return!
Such were your words—Now Warriors grieve no more,
Lo there the Trojans! bath your Swords in Gore!
This Day shall give you all your Soul demands;
250Glut all your Hearts! and weary all your Hands!
Thus while he rowz’d the Fire in ev’ry Breast,
Close, and more close, the list’ning Cohorts prest;
Ranks wedg’d in Ranks; of Arms a steely Ring
Still grows, and spreads, and thickens round the King.
As when a circling Wall the Builder forms,
Of Strength defensive against Winds and Storms,
Compacted Stones the thick’ning Work compose,
And round him wide the rising Structure grows.
So Helm to Helm, and Crest to Crest they throng,
Shield urg’d on Shield, and Man drove Man along:
Thick, undistinguish’d Plumes, together join’d,
Float in one Sea, and wave before the Wind.
Far o’er the rest, in glitt’ring Pomp appear,
There, bold Automedon; Patroclus here;
Brothers in Arms, with equal Fury fir’d;
Two Friends, two Bodies with one Soul inspir’d.
But mindful of the Gods, Achilles went
To the rich Coffer, in his shady Tent:
There lay on Heaps his various Garments roll’d,
And costly Furs, and Carpets stiff with Gold.
(The Presents of the silver-footed Dame)
From thence he took a Bowl, of antique Frame,
Which never Man had stain’d with ruddy Wine,
Nor rais’d in Off’rings to the Pow’rs divine,
But Peleus’ Son; and Peleus’ Son to none
Had rais’d in Off’rings, but to Jove alone.
This ting’d with Sulphur, sacred first to Flame,
He purg’d; and wash’d it in the running Stream.
Then cleans’d his Hands; and fixing for a Space
His Eyes on Heaven, his Feet upon the Place
Of Sacrifice, the purple Draught he pour’d
Forth in the midst; and thus the God implor’d.
Oh thou Supreme! high-thron’d, all Height above!
Oh Great! Pelasgic, Dodonaean Jove!
Who ’midst surrounding Frosts, and Vapours chill,
Preside on bleak Dodona’s vocal Hill:
(Whose Groves, the Selli, Race austere! surround,
Their Feet unwash’d, their Slumbers on the Ground;
Who hear, from rustling Oaks, their dark Decrees;
And catch the Fates, low-whisper’d in the Breeze.)
Hear, as of old! Thou gav’st, at Thetis Pray’r,
Glory to me, and to the Greeks Despair:
Lo to the Dangers of the fighting Field
The best, the dearest of my Friends, I yield:
Tho’ still determin’d, to my Ships confin’d,
Patroclus gone, I stay but half behind.
Oh! be his Guard thy providential Care,
Confirm his Heart, and string his Arm to War:
Press’d by his single Force, let Hector see,
300His Fame in Arms, not owing all to me.
But when the Fleets are sav’d from Foes and Fire,
Let him with Conquest and Renown retire;
Preserve his Arms, preserve his social Train,
And safe return him to these Eyes again!
Great Jove consents to half the Chief’s Request,
But Heav’ns eternal Doom denies the rest;
To free the Fleet was granted to his Pray’r;
His safe Return, the Winds dispers’d in Air.
Back to his Tent the stern Achilles flies,
And waits the Combate with impatient Eyes.
Meanwhile the Troops beneath Patroclus’ Care,
Invade the Trojans, and commence the War.
As Wasps, provok’d by Children in their Play,
Pour from their Mansions by the broad High-way,
In Swarms the guiltless Traveller engage,
Whet all their Stings, and call forth all their Rage;
All rise in Arms, and with a gen’ral Cry
Assert their waxen Domes, and buzzing Progeny.
Thus from the Tents the fervent Legion swarms,
So loud their Clamours, and so keen their Arms.
Their rising Rage Patroclus’ Breath inspires,
Who thus inflames them with heroick Fires.
Oh Warriors, Part’ners of Achilles’ Praise!
Be mindful of your Deeds in ancient Days:
Your godlike Master let your Acts proclaim,
And add new Glories to his mighty Name.
Think, your Achilles sees you fight: Be brave,
And humble the proud Monarch whom you save.
Joyful they heard, and kindling as he spoke
Flew to the Fleet, involv’d in Fire and Smoke.
From Shore to Shore the doubling Shouts resound,
The hollow Ships return a deeper Sound.
The War stood still, and all around them gaz’d,
When great Achilles’ shining Armour blaz’d:
Troy saw, and thought the dread Achilles nigh,
At once they see, they tremble, and they fly.
Then first thy Spear, divine Patroclus! flew,
Where the War rag’d, and where the Tumult grew.
Close to the Stern of that fam’d Ship, which bore
Unblest Protesilaus to Ilion’s Shore,
The great Paeonian, bold Pyrechmes, stood;
(Who led his Bands from Axius’ winding Flood)
His Shoulder-blade receives the fatal Wound;
The groaning Warrior pants upon the Ground.
His Troops, that see their Country’s Glory slain,
Fly diverse, scatter’d o’er the distant Plain.
Patroclus’ Arm forbids the spreading Fires,
And from the half-burn’d Ship proud Troy retires:
Clear’d from the Smoke the joyful Navy lies;
350In Heaps on Heaps the Foe tumultuous flies,
Triumphant Greece her rescu’d Decks ascends,
And loud Acclaim the starry Region rends.
So when thick Clouds inwrap the Mountain’s Head,
O’er Heav’ns Expanse like one black Cieling spread;
Sudden, the Thund’rer, with a flashing Ray,
Bursts thro’ the Darkness, and lets down the Day:
The Hills shine out, the Rocks in Prospect rise,
And Streams, and Vales, and Forests strike the Eyes,
The smiling Scene wide opens to the Sight,
And all th’ unmeasur’d Aether flames with Light.
But Troy repuls’d, and scatter’d o’er the Plains,
Forc’d from the Navy, yet the Fight maintains.
Now ev’ry Greek some hostile Hero slew,
But still the foremost bold Patroclus flew:
As Areïlycus had turn’d him round,
Sharp in his Thigh he felt the piercing Wound;
The brazen-pointed Spear, with Vigour thrown,
The Thigh transfix’d, and broke the brittle Bone:
Headlong he fell. Next Thoas was thy Chance,
Thy Breast, unarm’d, receiv’d the Spartan Lance.
Phylides’ Dart, (as Amphiclus drew nigh)
His Blow prevented, and transpierc’d his Thigh,
Tore all the Brawn, and rent the Nerves away:
In Darkness, and in Death, the Warrior lay.
In equal Arms two Sons of Nestor stand,
And two bold Brothers of the Lycian Band:
By great Antilochus, Atymnius dies,
Pierc’d in the Flank, lamented Youth! he lies.
Kind Maris, bleeding in his Brother’s Wound,
Defends the breathless Carcase on the Ground;
Furious he flies, his Murd’rer to engage,
But godlike Thrasimed prevents his Rage,
Between his Arm and Shoulder aims a Blow,
His Arm falls spouting on the Dust below:
He sinks, with endless Darkness cover’d o’er,
And vents his Soul effus’d with gushing Gore.
Slain by two Brothers, thus two Brothers bleed,
Sarpedon’s Friends, Amisodarus’ Seed;
Amisodarus, who by Furies led,
The Bane of Men, abhorr’d Chimaera bred;
Skill’d in the Dart in vain, his Sons expire,
And pay the Forfeit of their guilty Sire.
Stopp’d in the Tumult Cleobulus lies,
Beneath Oileus’ Arm, a living Prize;
A living Prize not long the Trojan stood;
The thirsty Faulchion drank his reeking Blood:
Plung’d in his Throat the smoaking Weapon lies;
Black Death, and Fate unpitying, seal his Eyes.
Amid the Ranks, with mutual Thirst of Fame,
400Lycon the brave, and fierce Peneleus came;
In vain their Javelins at each other flew,
Now, met in Arms, their eager Swords they drew.
On the plum’d Crest of his Boeotian Foe,
The daring Lycon aim’d a noble Blow;
The Sword broke short; but his, Peneleus sped
Full on the Juncture of the Neck and Head:
The Head, divided by a Stroke so just,
Hung by the Skin: the Body sunk to Dust.
O’ertaken Neamas by Merion bleeds;
Pierc’d thro’ the Shoulder as he mounts his Steeds;
Back from the Car he tumbles to the Ground;
His swimming Eyes eternal Shades surround.
Next Erymas was doom’d his Fate to feel,
His open’d Mouth receiv’d the Cretan Steel:
Beneath the Brain the Point a Passage tore,
Crash’d the thin Bones, and drown’d the Teeth in Gore:
His Mouth, his Eyes, his Nostrils pour a Flood;
He sobs his Soul out in the Gush of Blood.
As when the Flocks, neglected by the Swain
(Or Kids, or Lambs) lie scatter’d o’er the Plain,
A Troop of Wolves th’ unguarded Charge survey,
And rend the trembling, unresisting Prey.
Thus on the Foe the Greeks impetuous came;
Troy fled, unmindful of her former Fame.
But still at Hector godlike Ajax aim’d,
Still, pointed at his Breast, his Javelin flam’d:
The Trojan Chief, experienc’d in the Field,
O’er his broad Shoulders spread the massy Shield;
Observ’d the Storm of Darts the Grecians pour,
And on his Buckler caught the ringing Show’r.
He sees for Greece the Scale of Conquest rise,
Yet stops, and turns, and saves his lov’d Allies.
As when the Hand of Jove a Tempest forms,
And rolls the Cloud to blacken Heav’n with Storms,
Dark o’er the Fields th’ ascending Vapour flies,
And shades the Sun, and blots the golden Skies:
So from the Ships, along the dusky Plain,
Dire Flight and Terror drove the Trojan Train.
Ev’n Hector fled; thro’ Heaps of Disarray
The fiery Coursers forc’d their Lord away:
While far behind, his Trojans fall confus’d,
Wedg’d in the Trench, in one vast Carnage bruis’d.
Chariots on Chariots rowl; the clashing Spokes
Shock; while the madding Steeds break short their Yokes:
In vain they labour up the steepy Mound;
Their Charioteers lie foaming on the Ground.
Fierce on the Rear, with Shouts, Patroclus flies;
Tumultuous Clamour fills the Fields and Skies;
Thick Drifts of Dust involve their rapid Flight,
450Clouds rise on Clouds, and Heav’n is snatch’d from sight.
Th’ affrighted Steeds, their dying Lords cast down,
Scour o’er the Fields, and stretch to reach the Town.
Loud o’er the Rout was heard the Victor’s Cry,
Where the War bleeds, and where the thickest die.
Where Horse and Arms, and Chariots lie o’erthrown,
And bleeding Heroes under Axles groan.
No Stop, no Check, the Steeds of Peleus knew;
From Bank to Bank th’ immortal Coursers flew,
High-bounding o’er the Fosse: the whirling Car
Smoaks thro’ the Ranks, o’ertakes the flying War,
And thunders after Hector; Hector flies,
Patroclus shakes his Lance; but Fate denies.
Not with less Noise, with less impetuous force,
The Tyde of Trojans urge their desp’rate Course,
Than when in Autumn Jove his Fury pours,
And Earth is loaden with incessant Show’rs,
(When guilty Mortals break th’ eternal Laws,
And Judges brib’d, betray the righteous Cause)
From their deep Beds he bids the Rivers rise,
And opens all the Floodgates of the Skies:
Th’ impetuous Torrents from their Hills obey,
Whole Fields are drown’d, and Mountains swept away;
Loud roars the Deluge till it meets the Main;
And trembling Man sees all his Labours vain!
And now the Chief (the foremost Troops repell’d)
Back to the Ships his destin’d Progress held,
Bore down half Troy, in his resistless way,
And forc’d the routed Ranks to stand the Day.
Between the Space where silver Simois flows,
Where lay the Fleets, and where the Rampires rose,
All grim in Dust and Blood, Patroclus stands,
And turns the Slaughter on the conqu’ring Bands.
First Pronous dy’d beneath his fiery Dart,
Which pierc’d below the Shield his valiant Heart.
Thestor was next; who saw the Chief appear,
And fell the Victim of his coward Fear;
Shrunk up he sate, with wild and haggard Eye,
Nor stood to combate, nor had Force to fly:
Patroclus mark’d him as he shunn’d the War,
And with unmanly Tremblings shook the Car,
And dropp’d the flowing Reins. Him ’twixt the Jaws
The Javelin sticks, and from the Chariot draws:
As on a Rock that overhangs the Main,
An Angler, studious of the Line and Cane,
Some mighty Fish draws panting to the Shore;
Not with less ease the barbed Javelin bore
The gaping Dastard: As the Spear was shook;
He fell, and Life his heartless Breast forsook.
Next on Eryalus he flies; a Stone
500Large as a Rock, was by his Fury thrown.
Full on his Crown the pond’rous Fragment flew,
And burst the Helm, and cleft the Head in two:
Prone to the Ground the breathless Warrior fell,
And Death involv’d him with the Shades of Hell.
Then low in Dust Epaltes, Echius, lie;
Ipheas, Evippus, Polymelus, die;
Amphoterus, and Erymas succeed,
And last, Tlepolemus and Pyres bleed.
Where’er he moves, the growing Slaughters spread
In Heaps on Heaps; a Monument of Dead.
When now Sarpedon his brave Friends beheld
Grov’ling in Dust, and gasping on the Field,
With this Reproach his flying Host he warms,
Oh Stain to Honour! oh Disgrace to Arms!
Forsake, inglorious, the contended Plain;
This Hand, unaided, shall the War sustain:
The Task be mine this Hero’s Strength to try,
Who mows whole Troops, and makes an Army fly.
He spake; and speaking, leaps from off the Car;
Patroclus lights, and sternly waits the War.
As when two Vulturs on the Mountain’s Height
Stoop with re-sounding Pinions to the Fight;
They cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming Cry;
The Desert echoes, and the Rocks reply:
The Warriors thus oppos’d in Arms, engage
With equal Clamours, and with equal Rage,
Jove view’d the Combate, whose Event foreseen,
He thus bespoke his Sister and his Queen.
The Hour draws on; the Destinies ordain,
My godlike Son shall press the Phrygian Plain:
Already on the Verge of Death he stands,
His Life is ow’d to fierce Patroclus’ Hands.
What Passions in a Parent’s Breast debate!
Say, shall I snatch him from impending Fate,
And send him safe to Lycia, distant far
From all the Dangers and the Toils of War;
Or to his Doom my bravest Offspring yield,
And fatten, with celestial Blood, the Field?
Then thus the Goddess with the radiant Eyes:
What Words are these, O Sov’reign of the Skies?
Short is the Date prescrib’d to mortal Man;
Shall Jove, for one, extend the narrow Span,
Whose Bounds were fix’d before his Race began?
How many Sons of Gods, foredoom’d to Death,
Before proud Ilion, must resign their Breath!
Were thine exempt, Debate would rise above,
And murm’ring Pow’rs condemn their partial Jove.
Give the bold Chief a glorious Fate in fight;
And when th’ ascending Soul has wing’d her flight,
550Let Sleep and Death convey, by thy Command,
The breathless Body to his native Land.
His Friends and People, to his future Praise,
A marble Tomb and Pyramid shall raise,
And lasting Honours to his Ashes give;
His Fame (’tis all the Dead can have!) shall live.
She said; the Cloud-compeller overcome,
Assents to Fate, and ratifies the Doom.
Then, touch’d with Grief, the weeping Heav’ns distill’d
A Show’r of Blood o’er all the fatal Field.
The God, his Eyes averting from the Plain,
Laments his Son, predestin’d to be slain,
Far from the Lycian Shores, his happy native Reign.
Now met in Arms, the Combatants appear,
Each heav’d the Shield, and pois’d the lifted Spear:
From strong Patroclus’ Hand the Javelin fled,
And pass’d the Groin of valiant Thrasymed,
The Nerves unbrac’d no more his Bulk sustain,
He falls, and falling bites the bloody Plain.
Two sounding Darts the Lycian Leader threw;
The first aloof with erring Fury flew,
The next transpierc’d Achilles’ mortal Steed,
The gen’rous Pedasus, of Theban Breed;
Fix’d in the Shoulders Joint, he reel’d around;
Rowl’d in the bloody dust, and paw’d the slip’ry ground.
His sudden Fall th’ entangled Harness broke;
Each Axle crackled, and the Chariot shook:
When bold Automedon, to disengage
The starting Coursers, and restrain their Rage,
Divides the Traces with his Sword, and freed
Th’ incumber’d Chariot from the dying Steed:
The rest move on, obedient to the Rein;
The Car rowls slowly o’er the dusty Plain.
The tow’ring Chiefs to fiercer Fight advance,
And first Sarpedon whirl’d his weighty Lance,
Which o’er the Warrior’s Shoulder took its course,
And spent in empty Air its dying Force.
Not so Patroclus’ never erring Dart;
Aim’d at his Breast, it pierc’d the mortal Part
Where the strong Fibres bind the solid Heart.
Then, as the Mountain Oak, or Poplar tall,
Or Pine (fit Mast for some great Admiral)
Nods to the Axe, till with a groaning Sound
It sinks, and spreads its Honours on the Ground;
Thus fell the King; and laid on Earth supine,
Before his Chariot stretch’d his Form divine:
He grasp’d the Dust distain’d with streaming Gore,
And pale in Death, lay groaning on the Shore.
So lies a Bull beneath the Lion’s Paws,
While the grim Savage grinds with foamy Jaws
600The trembling Limbs, and sucks the smoaking Blood;
Deep groans, and hollow roars, rebellow thro’ the Wood.
Then to the Leader of the Lycian Band
The dying Chief address’d his last Command.
Glaucus, be bold; thy Task be first to dare
The glorious Dangers of destructive War,
To lead my Troops, to combate at their Head,
Incite the Living, and supply the Dead.
Tell ’em, I charg’d them with my latest Breath
Not unreveng’d to bear Sarpedon’s Death.
What Grief, what Shame must Glaucus undergo,
If these spoil’d Arms adorn a Grecian Foe?
Then as a Friend, and as a Warrior, fight;
Defend my Corpse, and conquer in my Right;
That taught by great Examples, all may try
Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die.
He ceas’d; the Fates suppress’d his lab’ring Breath,
And his Eyes darken’d with the Shades of Death:
Th’ insulting Victor with Disdain bestrode
The prostrate Prince, and on his Bosom trod;
Then drew the Weapon from his panting Heart,
The reeking Fibres clinging to the Dart;
From the wide Wound gush’d out a Stream of Blood,
And the Soul issu’d in the purple Flood.
His flying Steeds the Myrmidons detain,
Unguided now, their mighty Master slain.
All-impotent of Aid, transfix’d with Grief,
Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying Chief.
His painful Arm, yet useless with the Smart
Inflicted late by Teucer’s deadly Dart,
Supported on his better Hand he stay’d;
To Phoebus then (’twas all he could) he pray’d.
All-seeing Monarch! whether Lycia’s Coast
Or sacred Ilion, thy bright Presence boast,
Pow’rful alike to ease the Wretche’s Smart;
Oh hear me! God of ev’ry healing Art!
Lo! stiff with clotted Blood, and pierc’d with Pain,
That thrills my Arm and shoots thro’ ev’ry Vein,
I stand unable to sustain the Spear,
And sigh, at distance from the glorious War.
Low in the Dust is great Sarpedon laid,
Nor Jove vouchsaf’d his hapless Off’ring Aid.
But thou, O God of Health! thy Succour lend,
To guard the Reliques of my slaughter’d Friend.
For thou, tho’ distant, can’st restore my Might,
To head my Lycians, and support the Fight.
Apollo heard; and suppliant as he stood,
His heav’nly Hand restrain’d the Flux of Blood;
He drew the Dolours from the wounded Part,
And breath’d a Spirit in his rising Heart.
650Renew’d by Art divine, the Hero stands,
And owns th’ Assistance of immortal Hands.
First to the Fight his native Troops he warms,
Then loudly calls on Troy’s vindictive Arms;
With ample Strides he stalks from Place to Place.
Now fires Agenor, now Polydamas;
Aeneas next, and Hector he accosts;
Inflaming thus the Rage of all their Hosts.
What Thoughts, regardless Chief! thy Breast employ?
Oh too forgetful of the Friends of Troy!
Those gen’rous Friends, who, from their Country far,
Breathe their brave Souls out, in another’s War.
See! where in Dust the great Sarpedon lies,
In Action valiant, and in Council wise,
Who guarded Right, and kept his People free;
To all his Lycians lost, and lost to thee!
Stretch’d by Patroclus’ Arm on yonder Plains,
Oh save from hostile Rage his lov’d Remains:
Ah let not Greece his conquer’d Trophies boast,
Nor on his Corpse revenge her Heroes lost.
He spoke; each Leader in his Grief partook,
Troy, at the Loss, thro’ all her Legions shook.
Tranfix’d with deep Regret, they view’d o’erthrown
At once his Country’s Pillar, and their own;
A Chief, who led to Troy’s beleaguer’d Wall
A Host of Heroes, and outshin’d them all.
Fir’d, they rush on; First Hector seeks the Foes,
And with superior Vengeance, greatly glows.
But o’er the Dead the fierce Patroclus stands,
And rowzing Ajax, rowz’d the list’ning Bands.
Heroes, be Men! be what you were before;
Or weigh the great Occasion, and be more.
The Chief who taught our lofty Walls to yield,
Lies pale in Death, extended on the Field.
To guard his Body Troy in Numbers flies;
’Tis half the Glory to maintain our Prize.
Haste, strip his Arms, the Slaughter round him spread,
And send the living Lycians to the Dead.
The Heroes kindle at his fierce Command;
The martial Squadrons close on either Hand:
Here Troy and Lycia charge with loud Alarms,
Thessalia there, and Greece, oppose their Arms.
With horrid Shouts they circle round the Slain;
The Clash of Armour rings o’er all the Plain.
Great Jove, to swell the Horrors of the Fight,
O’er the fierce Armies pours pernicious Night,
And round his Son confounds the warring Hosts,
His Fate ennobling with a Croud of Ghosts.
Now Greece gives way, and great Epigeus falls;
Agacleus’ Son, from Budium’s lofty Walls:
700Who chas’d for Murder thence, a Suppliant came
To Peleus, and the silver-footed Dame;
Now sent to Troy, Achilles’ Arms to aid,
He pays due Vengeance to his Kinsman’s Shade.
Soon as his luckless Hand had touch’d the Dead,
A Rock’s large Fragment thunder’d on his Head;
Hurl’d by Hectorean Force, it cleft in twain
His shatter’d Helm, and stretch’d him o’er the Slain.
Fierce to the Van of Fight Patroclus came;
And, like an Eagle darting at his Game,
Sprung on the Trojan and the Lycian Band;
What Grief thy Heart, what Fury urg’d thy Hand.
Oh gen’rous Greek! when with full Vigour thrown
At Stenelaus flew the weighty Stone,
Which sunk him to the dead: when Troy, too near
That Arm, drew back; and Hector learn’d to fear.
Far as an able Hand a Lance can throw,
Or at the Lists, or at the fighting Foe;
So far the Trojans from their Lines retir’d;
Till Glaucus’ turning, all the rest inspir’d.
Then Bathyclaeus fell beneath his Rage,
The only Hope of Chalcon’s trembling Age:
Wide o’er the Land was stretch’d his large Domain,
With stately Seats, and Riches, blest in vain:
Him, bold with Youth, and eager to pursue
The flying Lycians, Glaucus met, and slew;
Pierc’d thro’ the Bosom with a sudden Wound,
He fell, and falling, made the Fields resound.
Th’ Achaians sorrow for their Hero slain;
With conqu’ring Shouts the Trojans shake the Plain,
And crowd to spoil the Dead: The Greeks oppose:
An Iron Circle round the Carcase grows.
Then brave Laogonus resign’d his Breath,
Dispatch’d by Merion to the Shades of Death:
On Ida’s holy Hill he made abode,
The Priest of Jove, and honour’d like his God.
Between the Jaw and Ear the Javelin went;
The Soul, exhaling, issu’d at the vent.
His Spear Aeneas at the Victor threw,
Who stooping forward from the Death withdrew;
The Lance hiss’d harmless o’er his cov’ring Shield,
And trembling strook, and rooted in the Field,
There yet scarce spent, it quivers on the Plain,
Sent by the great Aeneas’ Arm in vain.
Swift as thou art (the raging Hero cries)
And skill’d in Dancing to dispute the Prize,
My Spear, the destin’d Passage had it found,
Had fix’d thy active Vigour to the Ground.
Oh valiant Leader of the Dardan Host!
(Insulted Merion thus retorts the Boast)
750Strong as you are, ’tis mortal Force you trust,
An Arm as strong may stretch thee in the Dust.
And if to this my Lance thy Fate be giv’n,
Vain are thy Vaunts, Success is still from Heav’n;
This Instant sends thee down to Pluto’s Coast,
Mine is the Glory, his thy parting Ghost.
O Friend ( Menoetius’ Son this Answer gave)
With Words to combate, ill befits the Brave:
Not empty Boasts the Sons of Troy repell,
Your Swords must plunge them to the Shades of Hell.
To speak, beseems the Council; but to dare
In glorious Action, is the Task of War.
This said, Patroclus to the Battel flies;
Great Merion follows, and new Shouts arise:
Shields, Helmets rattle, as the Warriors close;
And thick and heavy sounds the Storm of Blows.
As thro’ the shrilling Vale, or Mountain Ground,
The Labours of the Woodman’s Axe resound;
Blows following Blows are heard re-echoing wide,
While crackling Forests fall on ev’ry side.
Thus echo’d all the Fields with loud Alarms,
So fell the Warriors, and so rung their Arms.
Now great Sarpedon, on the sandy Shore,
His heav’nly Form defac’d with Dust and Gore,
And stuck with Darts by warring Heroes shed;
Lies undistinguish’d from the vulgar dead.
His long-disputed Corpse the Chiefs inclose,
On ev’ry side the busy Combate grows;
Thick, as beneath some Shepherd’s thatch’d Abode,
The Pails high-foaming with a milky Flood,
The buzzing Flies, a persevering Train,
Incessant swarm, and chas’d, return again.
Jove view’d the Combate with a stern Survey,
And Eyes that flash’d intolerable Day;
Fix’d on the Field his Sight, his Breast debates
The Vengeance due, and meditates the Fates;
Whether to urge their prompt Effect, and call
The Force of Hector to Patroclus’ Fall,
This Instant see his short-liv’d Trophies won,
And stretch him breathless on his slaughter’d Son;
Or yet, with many a Soul’s untimely flight,
Augment the Fame and Horror of the Fight?
To crown Achilles’ valiant Friend with Praise
At length he dooms; and that his last of Days
Shall set in Glory; bids him drive the Foe;
Nor unattended, see the Shades below.
Then Hector’s Mind he fills with dire Dismay;
He mounts his Car, and calls his Hosts away;
Sunk with Troy’s heavy Fates, he sees decline
The Scales of Jove, and pants with Awe divine.
800Then, nor before, the hardy Lycians fled,
And left their Monarch with the common dead:
Around, in heaps on heaps, a dreadful Wall
Of Carnage rises, as the Heroes fall.
(So Jove decreed!) At length the Greeks obtain
The Prize contested, and despoil the Slain.
The radiant Arms are by Patroclus born,
Patroclus’ Ships the glorious Spoils adorn.
Then thus to Phoebus, in the Realms above,
Spoke from his Throne the Cloud-compelling Jove.
Descend, my Phoebus! on the Phrygian Plain,
And from the Fight convey Sarpedon slain;
Then bathe his Body in the crystal Flood,
With Dust dishonour’d, and deform’d with Blood:
O’er all his Limbs Ambrosial Odours shed,
And with celestial Robes adorn the Dead.
Those Rites discharg’d, his sacred Corpse bequeath
To the soft Arms of silent Sleep and Death;
They to his Friends the mournful Charge shall bear,
His Friends a Tomb and Pyramid shall rear;
What Honours Mortals after Death receive,
Those unavailing Honours we may give!
Apollo bows, and from Mount Ida’s Height,
Swift to the Field precipitates his Flight;
Thence from the War the breathless Hero bore,
Veil’d in a Cloud, to silver Simois’ Shore:
There bath’d his honourable Wounds, and drest
His manly Members in th’ immortal Vest;
And with Perfumes of sweet Ambrosial Dews,
Restores his Freshness, and his Form renews.
Then Sleep and Death, two Twins of winged Race,
Of matchless Swiftness, but of silent Pace,
Receiv’d Sarpedon, at the God’s Command,
And in a Moment reach’d the Lycian Land;
The Corpse amidst his weeping Friends they laid,
Where endless Honours wait the sacred Shade.
Meanwhile Patroclus pours along the Plains,
With foaming Coursers, and with loosen’d Reins.
Fierce on the Trojan and the Lycian Crew,
Ah blind to Fate! thy headlong Fury flew:
Against what Fate and pow’rful Jove ordain,
Vain was thy Friend’s Command, thy Courage vain.
For he, the God, whose Counsels uncontroll’d,
Dismay the mighty, and confound the bold:
The God who gives, resumes, and orders all,
He urg’d thee on, and urg’d thee on to fall.
Who first, brave Hero! by that Arm was slain,
Who last, beneath thy Vengeance, press’d the Plain;
When Heav’n itself thy fatal Fury led,
And call’d to fill the Number of the Dead?
850Adrestus first; Autonous then succeeds,
Echeclus follows; next young Megas bleeds;
Epistor, Menalippus, bite the Ground;
The Slaughter, Elasus and Mulius crown’d:
Then sunk Pylartes to eternal Night;
The rest dispersing, trust their Fates to Flight.
Now Troy had stoop’d beneath his matchless Pow’r,
But flaming Phoebus kept the sacred Tow’r.
Thrice at the Battlement Patroclus strook,
His blazing Aegis thrice Apollo shook:
He try’d the fourth; when, bursting from the Cloud,
A more than mortal Voice was heard aloud.
Patroclus! cease: This Heav’n-defended Wall
Defies thy Lance; not fated yet to fall;
Thy Friend, thy greater far, it shall withstand,
Troy shall not stoop ev’n to Achilles’ Hand.
So spoke the God who darts celestial Fires:
The Greek obeys him, and with Awe retires.
While Hector checking at the Scaean Gates
His panting Coursers, in his Breast debates,
Or in the Field his Forces to employ,
Or draw the Troops within the Walls of Troy.
Thus while he thought, beside him Phoebus stood,
In Asius’ Shape, who reign’d by Sangar’s Flood;
(Thy Brother, Hecuba! from Dymas sprung;
A valiant Warrior, haughty, bold, and young.)
Thus he accosts him. What a shameful Sight!
Gods! is it Hector that forbears the Fight?
Were thine my Vigour, this successful Spear
Should soon convince thee of so false a Fear.
Turn then, ah turn thee to the Field of Fame,
And in Patroclus’ Blood efface thy Shame.
Perhaps Apollo shall thy Arms succeed,
And Heav’n ordains him by thy Lance to bleed.
So spoke th’ inspiring God; then took his slight,
And plung’d amidst the Tumult of the Fight.
He bids Cebrion drive the rapid Car;
The Lash resounds; the Coursers rush to War.
The God the Grecians sinking Souls deprest,
And pour’d swift Spirits thro’ each Trojan Breast.
Patroclus lights, impatient for the Fight;
A Spear his Left, a Stone employs his Right:
With all his Nerves he drives it at the Foe;
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
The falling Ruin crush’d Cebrion’s Head,
(The lawless Offspring of King Priam’s Bed,)
His Front, Brows, Eyes, one undistinguish’d Wound,
The bursting Balls drop sightless to the Ground.
The Charioteer, while yet he held the Rein,
Struck from the Car, falls headlong on the Plain.
900To the dark Shades the Soul unwilling glides,
While the proud Victor thus his Fall derides,
Good Heav’ns! what active Feats yon’ Artist shows,
What skilful Divers are our Phrygian Foes!
Mark with what Ease they sink into the Sand!
Pity! that all their Practice is by Land.
Then rushing sudden on his prostrate Prize,
To spoil the Carcase fierce Patroclus flies:
Swift as a Lion, terrible and bold,
That sweeps the Fields, depopulates the Fold;
Pierc’d thro’ the dauntless Heart, then tumbles slain;
And from his fatal Courage finds his Bane.
At once bold Hector leaping from his Car,
Defends the Body, and provokes the War.
Thus for some slaughter’d Hind, with equal Rage,
Two lordly Rulers of the Wood engage;
Stung with fierce Hunger, each the Prey invades,
And echoing Roars rebellow thro’ the Shades.
Stern Hector fastens on the Warrior’s Head,
And by the Foot Patroclus drags the Dead.
While all around, Confusion, Rage, and Fright
Mix the contending Hosts in mortal Fight.
So pent by Hills, the wild Winds roar aloud
In the deep Bosom of some gloomy Wood;
Leaves, Arms, and Trees aloft in Air are blown,
The broad Oaks crackle, and the Sylvans groan;
This way and that, the ratt’ling Thicket bends,
And the whole Forest in one Crash descends.
Not with less Noise, with less tumultuous Rage,
In dreadful Shock the mingled Hosts engage.
Darts show’r’d on Darts, now round the Carcase ring;
Now Flights of Arrows bounding from the String:
Stones follow Stones; some clatter on the Fields,
Some, hard and heavy, shake the sounding Shields.
But where the rising Whirlwind clouds the Plains,
Sunk in soft Dust the mighty Chief remains,
And stretch’d in Death, forgets the guiding Reins!
Now flaming from the Zenith, Sol had driv’n
His fervid Orb thro’ half the Vault of Heav’n;
While on each Host with equal Tempest fell
The show’ring Darts, and Numbers sunk to Hell.
But when his Ev’ning Wheels o’erhung the Main,
Glad Conquest rested on the Grecian Train.
Then from amidst the Tumult and Alarms,
They draw the conquer’d Corpse, and radiant Arms.
Then rash Patroclus with new Fury glows,
And breathing Slaughter, pours amid the Foes.
Thrice on the Press like Mars himself he flew,
And thrice three Heroes at each Onset slew.
There ends thy Glory! there the Fates untwine
950The last, black Remnant of so bright a Line.
Apollo dreadful stops thy middle way;
Death calls, and Heav’n allows no longer Day!
For lo! the God, in dusky Clouds enshrin’d,
Approaching dealt a stagg’ring Blow behind.
The weighty Shock his Neck and Shoulders feel;
His Eyes flash Sparkles, his stunn’d Senses reel
In giddy Darkness: Far to distance flung,
His bounding Helmet on the Champain rung.
Achilles’ Plume is stain’d with Dust and Gore;
That Plume, which never stoop’d to Earth before,
Long us’d, untouch’d, in fighting Fields to shine,
And shade the Temples of the Man divine.
Jove dooms it now on Hector’s Helm to nod;
Not long—For Fate pursues him, and the God.
His Spear in Shivers falls: His ample Shield
Drops from his Arm: his Baldrick strows the Field:
The Corselet his astonish’d Breast forsakes:
Loose is each Joint; each Nerve with Horror shakes.
Stupid he stares, and all-assistless stands:
Such is the Force of more than mortal Hands!
A Dardan Youth there was, well-known to Fame,
From Panthus sprung, Euphorbus was his Name;
Fam’d for the Manage of the foaming Horse,
Skill’d in the Dart, and matchless in the Course:
Full twenty Knights he tumbled from the Car
While yet he learn’d his Rudiments of War.
His vent’rous Spear first drew the Hero’s Gore;
He strook, he wounded, but he durst no more;
Nor tho’ disarm’d, Patroclus’ Fury stood:
But swift withdrew the long-protended Wood,
And turn’d him short, and herded in the Croud.
Thus, by an Arm divine, and mortal Spear,
Wounded at once, Patroclus yields to fear,
Retires for Succour to his social Train,
And flies the Fate, which Heav’n decreed, in vain.
Stern Hector, as the bleeding Chief he views,
Breaks thro’ the Ranks, and his Retreat pursues:
The Lance arrests him with a mortal Wound;
He falls, Earth thunders, and his Arms resound.
With him all Greece was sunk; that Moment all
Her yet-surviving Heroes seem’d to fall.
So scorch’d with Heat along the desart Shore,
The roaming Lyon meets a bristly Boar,
Fast by the Spring; they both dispute the Flood,
With flaming Eyes, and Jaws besmear’d with Blood;
At length the sov’reign Savage wins the Strife,
And the torn Boar resigns his Thirst and Life.
Patroclus thus, so many Chiefs o’erthrown,
So many Lives effus’d, expires his own.
1000As dying now at Hector’s Feet he lies,
He sternly views him, and triumphing cries.
Lie there Patroclus! and with thee, the Joy
Thy Pride once promis’d, of subverting Troy;
The fancy’d Scenes, of Ilion wrapt in Flames,
And thy soft Pleasures serv’d with captive Dames!
Unthinking Man! I fought, those Tow’rs to free,
And guard that beauteous Race from Lords like thee:
But thou a Prey to Vulturs shalt be made!
The great Achilles cannot lend thee Aid;
Tho much at parting that great Chief might say,
And much enjoin thee, this important Day.
"Return not, my brave Friend (perhaps he said)
"Without the bloody Arms of Hector dead:
He spoke, Patroclus march’d, and thus he sped.
Supine, and wildly gazing on the Skies,
With faint, expiring Breath, the Chief replies.
Vain Boaster! cease, and know the Pow’rs divine;
Jove’s and Apollo’s is this Deed, not thine;
To Heav’n is ow’d whate’er your own you call,
And Heav’n itself disarm’d me e’er my Fall.
Had twenty Mortals, each thy Match in Might,
Oppos’d me fairly, they had sunk in Fight:
By Fate and Phoebus was I first o’erthrown,
Euphorbus next; the third mean Part thy own.
But thou Imperious! hear my latest Breath;
The Gods inspire it, and it sounds thy Death.
Insulting Man! thou shalt be soon, as I;
Black Fate hangs o’er thee, and thy Hour draws nigh;
Ev’n now on Life’s last Verge I see thee stand,
I see thee fall, and by Achilles’ Hand.
He faints; the Soul unwilling wings her way,
(The beauteous Body left a Load of Clay)
Flits to the lone, uncomfortable Coast;
A naked, wand’ring, melancholy Ghost!
Then Hector pausing, as his Eyes he fed
On the pale Carcase thus address’d the dead.
From whence this boding Speech, the stern Decree
Of Death denounc’d, or why denounc’d to me?
Why not as well Achilles’ Fate be giv’n
To Hector’s Lance? Who knows the Will of Heav’n?
Pensive he said; then pressing as he lay
His breathless Bosom, tore the Lance away;
And upwards cast the Corps: The reeking Spear
He shakes, and charges the bold Charioteer.
But swift Automedon with loosned Reins
Rapt in the Chariot o’er the distant Plains,
Far from his Rage th’ immortal Courses drove;
Th’ immortal Coursers were the Gift of Jove.
—When we propounded Terms
1050Of Composition, strait they chang’d their Minds,
Flew off, and into strange Vagaries fell,
As they would dance; yet for a Dance they seem’d
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps
For joy of offer’d Peace— &c.
—Terms that amus’d ’em all,
And stumbled many; who receives them right
Had need from Head to Foot well understand:
Not understood, this Gift they have besides,
They show us when our Foes walk not upright.
Observations on the 16th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note XLVIII.
- Note XLIX.
- Note L.
- Note LI.
Note I.
WE have at the Entrance of this Book one of the most beautiful Parts of the Iliad. The two different Characters are admirably sustain’d in the Dialogue of the two Heroes, wherein there is not a Period but strongly marks not only their natural Temper, but that particular Disposition of Mind in either, which arises from the present State of Affairs. We see Patroclus touch’d with the deepest Compassion for the Misfortune of the Greeks, (whom the Trojans had forc’d to retreat to their Ships, and which Ships were on the Point of burning) prostrating himself before the Vessel of Achilles, and pouring out his Tears at his Feet. Achilles, struck with the Grief of his Friend, demands the Cause of it. Patroclus, pointing to the Ships, where the Flames already began to rise, tells him he is harder than the Rocks or Sea which lay in prospect before them, if he is not touch’d with so moving a Spectacle, and can see in cold Blood his Friends perishing before his Eyes. As nothing can be more natural and affecting than the Speech of Patroclus, so nothing is more lively and Picturesque than the Attitude he is here describ’d in.
The Pathetic of Patroclus’s Speech is finely contrasted by the Fiertè of that of Achilles. While the former is melting with Sorrow for his Countrymen, the utmost he can hope from the latter, is but to borrow his Armour and Troops; to obtain his personal Assistance he knows is impossible. At the very Instant that Achilles is mov’d to ask the Cause of his Friend’s Concern, he seems to say that nothing could deserve it but the Death of their Fathers: and in the same Breath speaks of the total Destruction of the Greeks as of too slight a Cause for Tears. Patroclus, at the opening of this Speech, dares not name Agamemnon even for being wounded; and after he has tried to bend him by all the Arguments that could affect an human Breast, concludes by supposing that some Oracle or supernatual Inspiration is the Cause that with-holds his Arms. What can match the Fierceness of his Answer? Which implies, that not the Oracles of Heaven itself should be regarded, if they stood in Competition with his Resentment: That if he yields, it must be thro’ his own mere Motive: The only reason he has ever to yield, is that Nature itself cannot support Anger eternally: And if he yields now, it is only because he had before determin’d to do so at a certain time, ( Il. 9. ℣. 773.) That time was not till the Flames should approach to his own Ships, till the last Article of Danger, and that not of Danger to Greece, but to himself. Thus his very Pity has the sternest Qualifications in the World. After all, what is it he yields to? Only to suffer his Friend to go in his stead, just to save them from present Ruin, but he expressly forbids him to proceed any farther in their Assistance, than barely to put out the Fires, and secure his own and his Friend’s Return into their Country: And all this concludes with a Wish, that (if it were possible) every Greek and every Trojan might perish except themselves. Such is that Wrath of Achilles, that more than Wrath, as the Greek [Greek]implies, which Homer has painted in so strong a Colouring.
Note II.
VERSE 8. Indulgent to his best belov’d. ]
The Friendship of Achilles and Patroclus is celebrated by all Antiquity: And Homer, notwithstanding the Anger of Achilles was his profess’d Subject, has found the Secret to discover, thro’ that very Anger, the softer Parts of his Character. In this View we shall find him generous in his Temper, despising Gain and Booty, and as far as his Honour is not concern’d, fond of his Mistress, and easy to his Friend: Not proud, but when injur’d; and not more revengeful when ill us’d, than grateful and gentle when respectfully treated.
" Patroclus (says Philostratus, who probably grounds his Assertion on some ancient Tradition) was not so much elder than Achilles as to pretend to direct him, but of a tender, modest, and unassuming Nature; constant and diligent in his Attendance, and seeming to have no Affections but those of his Friend."
The same Author has a very pretty Passage, where Ajax is introduced enquiring of Achilles,
"Which of all his warlike Actions were the most difficult and dangerous to him? He answers, Those which he undertook for the sake of his Friends. And which (continues Ajax ) were the most pleasing and easy? The very same, replies Achilles. He then asks him, Which of all the Wounds he ever bore in Battel was the most painful to him? Achilles answers, That which he receiv’d from Hector. But Hector, says Ajax, never gave you a Wound. Yes, replies Achilles, a mortal one, when he slew my Friend Patroclus. "
It is said in the Life of Alexander the Great, that when that Prince visited the Monuments of the Heroes at Troy, and plac’d a Crown upon the Tomb of Achilles; his Friend Hephaestion plac’d another on that of Patroclus, as an Intimation of his being to Alexander what the other was to Achilles. On which Occasion the Saying of Alexander is recorded; That Achilles was happy indeed, for having had such a Friend to love him living, and such a Poet to celebrate him dead.
Note III.
VERSE 11. No Girl, no Infant, &c.]
I know the obvious Translation of this Passage makes the Comparison consist only in the Tears of the Infant, apply’d to those of Patroclus. But certainly the Idea of the Simile will be much finer, if we comprehend also in it the Mother’s Fondness and Concern, awaken’d by this Uneasiness of the Child, which no less aptly corresponds with the Tenderness of Achilles on the Sight of his Friend’s Affliction. And there is yet a third Branch of the Comparison, in the Pursuit, and constant Application the Infant makes to the Mother, in the same manner as Patroclus follows Achilles with his Grief, till he forces him to take notice of it. I think (all these Circumstances laid together) nothing can be more affecting or exact in all its Views, than this Similitude; which without that Regard, has perhaps seem’d but low and trivial to an unreflecting Reader.
Note IV.
VERSE 31. Let Greece at length with Pity touch thy Breast. ]
The Commentators labour to prove, that the Words in the Original, which begin this Speech, [Greek]Be not angry, are not meant to desire Achilles to bear no farther Resentment against the Greeks, but only not to be displeas’d at the Tears which Patroclus sheds for their Misfortune. Patroclus (they say) was not so imprudent to begin his Intercession in that manner, when there was need of something more insinuating. I take this to be an Excess of Refinement: The Purpose of every Period in his Speech is to persuade Achilles to lay aside his Anger; why then may he not begin by desiring it? The whole Question is, whether he may speak openly in favour of the Greeks in the first half of the Verse, or in the latter? For in the same Line he represents their Distress.
— [Greek]
’Tis plain he treats him without much Reserve, calls him implacable, inexorable, and even mischievous (for [Greek]implies no less.) I don’t see wherein the Caution of this Speech consists; it is a generous, unartful Petition, whereof Achilles’s Nature would much more approve, than of all the Artifice of Ulysses (to which he express’d his Hatred in the ninth Book, ℣. 310.)
Note V.
VERSE 35. Eurypylus, Tydides, Atreus’ Son, And wise Ulysses.—]
Patroclus in mentioning the wounded Princes to Achilles, takes care not to put Agamemnon first, lest that odious Name striking his Ear on a sudden, should shut it against the rest of his Discourse: Neither does he name him last, for fear Achilles dwelling upon it should fall into Passion: But he slides it into the middle, mixing and confounding it with the rest, that it might not be taken too much notice of, and that the Names which precede and follow it may diminish the Hatred it might excite. Wherefore he does not so much as accompany it with an Epithet.
I think the foregoing Remark of Eustathius is very ingenious, and I have given into it so far, as to chuse rather to make Patroclus call him Atreus’ Son than Agamemnon, which yet farther softens it, since thus it might as well be imagin’d he spoke of Menelaus, as of Agamemnon.
Note VI.
VERSE 61. And thy mere Image chase her Foes away. ]
It is hard to conceive a greater Complement, or one that could more touch the warlike Ambition of Achilles, than this which Homer puts into the Mouth of Patroclus. It was also an Encomium which he could not suspect of Flattery; since the Person who made it, desires to hazard his Life upon the Security, that the Enemy could not support the Sight of the very Armour of Achilles: And indeed Achilles himself seems to entertain no less a Thought, in the Answer to this Speech, where he ascribes the Flight of Troy to the blazing of his Helmet: a Circumstance wonderfully fine, and nobly exalting the Idea of this Hero’s terrible Character. Besides all this, Homer had it in his View to prepare hereby the wonderful Incident that is to ensue in the eighteenth Book, where the very Sight of Achilles from his Ship turns the Fortune of the War.
Note VII.
VERSE 101. No longer flames the Lance of Tydeus’ Son. ]
By what Achilles here says, joining Diomede to Agamemnon in this taunting Reflection, one may justly suspect there was some particular Disagreement and Emulation between these two Heroes. This we may suppose to be the more natural, because Diomede was of all the Greeks confessedly the nearest in Fame and Courage to Achilles, and therefore the most likely to move his Envy, as being the most likely to supply his Place. The same Sentiments are to be observ’d in Diomede with regard to Achilles; he is always confident in his own Valour, and therefore in their greatest Extremities he no where acknowledges the Necessity of appeasing Achilles, but always in Council appears most forward and resolute to carry on the War without him. For this reason he was not thought a fit Embassador to Achilles; and upon Return from the Embassy, he breaks into a severe Reflection, not only upon Achilles, but even upon Agamemnon who had sent this Embassy to him. I wish thou hadst not sent these Supplications and Gifts to Achilles; his Insolence was extreme before, but now his Arrogance will be intolerable; let us not mind whether he goes or stays, but do our Duty and prepare for the Battel. Eustathius observes, that Achilles uses this particular Expression concerning Diomede,
[Greek]—
because it was the same boasting Expression Diomed had apply’d to himself, Il. 8. ℣. 111. But this having been said only to Nestor in the Heat of Fight, how can we suppose Achilles had Notice of it? This Observation shews the great Diligence, if not the Judgment, of the good Archbishop.
Note VIII.
VERSE 111. Shall render back the beauteous Maid. ]
But this is what the Greeks have already offer’d to do, and which he has refus’d; this then is an Inequality in Achilles’s Manners. Not at all: Achilles is still ambitious; when he refused these Presents, the Greeks were not low enough, he would not receive them till they were reduced to the last Extremity, and till he was sufficiently reveng’d by their Losses. Dacier.
Note IX.
VERSE 113. But touch not Hector.]
This Injunction of Achilles is highly correspondent to his ambitious Character: He is by no means willing that the Conquest of Hector should be atchiev’d by any Hand but his own: In that Point of Glory he is jealous even of his dearest Friend. This also wonderfully strengthens the Idea we have of his Implacability and Resentment; since at the same time that nothing can move him to assist the Greeks in the Battel, we see it is the utmost Force upon his Nature to abstain from it, by the fear he manifests lest any other should subdue this Hero.
The Verse I am speaking of,
[Greek]
is cited by Diogenes Laertius as Homer’s, but not to be found in the Editions before that of Barnes. It is certainly one of the Instructions of Achilles to Patroclus, and therefore properly placed in this Speech; but I believe better after
— [Greek]
than where he has inserted it four Lines above: For Achilles’s Instructions not beginning till ℣. 83.
[Greek]
it is not so proper to divide this material one from the rest. Whereas (according to the Method I propose) the whole Context will lie in this order. Obey my Injunctions, as you consult my Interest and Honour. Make as great a Slaughter of the Trojans as you will, but abstain from Hector. And as soon as you have repuls’d them from the Ships, be satisfy’d and return: For it may be fatal to pursue the Victory to the Walls of Troy.
Note X.
VERSE 115. Consult my Glory, and forbear. ]
Achilles tells Patroclus, that if he pursues the Foe too far, whether he shall be Victor or Vanquish’d, it must prove either way prejudicial to his Glory. For by the former, the Greeks having no more need of Achilles’s Aid, will not render him his Captive, nor try any more to appease him by Presents: By the latter, his Arms would be left in the Enemy’s Hands, and he himself upbraided with the Death of Patroclus. Dacier.
Note XI.
VERSE 122. Oh would to all, &c.]
Achilles from his overflowing Gall vents this Execration: The Trojans he hates as professed Enemies, and he detests the Grecians as People who had with Calmness overlook’d his Wrongs. Some of the ancient Criticks not entring into the Manners of Achilles, would have expunged this Imprecation, as uttering an universal Malevolence to Mankind. This Violence agrees perfectly with his implacable Character. But one may observe at the same time the mighty Force of Friendship, if for the sake of his dear Patroclus he will protect and secure those Greeks, whose Destruction he wishes. What a little qualifies this bloody Wish, is that we may suppose it spoken with great Unreservedness, as in secret, and between Friends.
Mons. de la Motte has a lively Remark upon the Absurdity of this Wish. Upon the Supposition that Jupiter had granted it, if all the Trojans and Greeks were destroy’d, and only Achilles and Patroclus left to conquer Troy, he asks, what would be the Victory without any Enemies, and the Triumph without any Spectators? But the Answer is very obvious; Homer intends to paint a Man in Passion; the Wishes and Schemes of such an one are seldom conformable to Reason; and the Manners are preserv’d the better, the less they are represented to be so.
This brings into my Mind that Curse in Shakespear, where that admirable Master of Nature makes Northumberland, in the Rage of his Passion, wish for an universal Destruction.
—Now let not Nature’s Hand Keep the wild Flood confin’d! Let Order die, And let the World no longer be a Stage To feed Contention in a lingring Act: But let one Spirit of the first-born Cain Reign in all Bosoms, that each Heart being set On bloody Courses, the rude Scene may end, And Darkness be the Burier of the Dead!
Note XII.
VERSE 130. Ajax no more, &c.]
This Description of Ajax weary’d out with Battel, is a Passage of exquisite Life and Beauty: Yet what I think nobler than the Description itself, is what he says at the end of it, that his Hero even in this Excess of Fatigue and Languor, could scarce be mov’d from his Post by the Efforts of a whole Army. Virgil has copy’d the Description very exactly, Aen. 9.
Ergo nec clypeo juvenis subsistere tantum Nec dextra valet: injectis sic undique telis Obruitur. Strepit assiduo cava tempora circum
Tinnitu galea, & saxis solida aera fatiscunt: Discussaeque jubae capiti, nec sufficit umbo Ictibus : ingeminant hastis & Troes, & ipse Fulmineus Mnestheus; tum toto corpore sudor Liquitur, & piceum, nec respirare potestas, Flumen agit; fessos quatit aeger anhelitus artus.
The Circumstances which I have mark’d in a different Character are Improvements upon Homer, and the last Verse excellently expresses, in the short catching up of the Numbers, the quick, short Panting, represented in the Image. The Reader may add to the Comparison an Imitation of the same Place in Tasso, Canto 9. St. 97.
Fatto intanto hà il Soldan cio, ch’e concesso Fare a terrena forza, hor piu non puote: Tutto e sangue e sudore; un grave, e spesso Anhelar gli ange il petto, e i fianche scote. Langue sotto lo scudo il brachio oppresso, Gira la destra il ferro in pigre rote; Spessa, e non taglia, e divenendo ottuso Perduto il brando omai di brando hà l’uso.
Note XIII.
VERSE 148. Great Ajax saw, and own’d the Hand divine, Confessing Jove, and trembling at the Sign. ]
In the Greek there is added an Explication of this Sign, which has no other Allusion to the Action but a very odd one in a single Phrase, or Metaphor.
— [Greek]
Which may be translated,
So seem’d their Hopes cut off by Heav’ns high Lord, So doom’d to fall before the Trojan Sword.
Chapman endeavours to account for the Meanness of this Conceit, by the gross Wit of Ajax; who seeing the Head of his Lance cut off, took it into his Fancy that Jupiter would in the same manner cut off the Counsels and Schemes of the Greeks. For to understand this far-fetch’d Apprehension gravely, as the Commentators have done, is indeed (to use the Words of Chapman ) most dull and Ajantical. I believe no Man will blame me for leaving these Lines out of the Text.
Note XIV.
VERSE 154. Achilles view’d the rising Flames. ]
This Event is prepar’d with a great deal of Art and Probability. That Effect which a Multitude of Speeches was not able to accomplish, one lamentable Spectacle, the Sight of the Flames, at length overcomes, and moves Achilles to Compassion. This it was (say the Ancients) that moved the Tragedians to make visible Representations of Misery; for the Spectators beholding People in unhappy Circumstances, find their Souls more deeply touch’d, than by all the Strains of Rhetorick. Eustathius.
Note XV.
VERSE 162. He cas’d his Limbs in Brass, &c.]
Homer does not amuse himself here to describe these Arms of Achilles at length, for besides that the time permits it not, he reserves this Description for the new Armour which Thetis shall bring that Hero; a Description which will be plac’d in a more quiet Moment, and which will give him all the Leisure of making it, without requiring any Force to introduce it. Eustathius.
Note XVI.
VERSE 172. Alone untouch’d Pelides’ Javelin stands. ]
This Passage affords another Instance of the Stupidity of the Commentators, who are here most absurdly inquisitive after the Reasons why Patroclus does not take the Spear, as well as the other Arms of Achilles? He thought himself a very happy Man, who first found out, that Homer had certainly given this Spear to Patroclus, if he had not foreseen that when it should be lost in his future unfortunate Engagement, Vulcan could not furnish Achilles with another; being no Joiner, but only a Smith. Virgil, it seems, was not so precisey acquainted with Vulcan’s Disability to profess the two Trades; since he has, without any scruple, employed him in making a Spear, as well as the other Arms for Aeneas. Nothing is more obvious than this Thought of Homer, who intended to raise the Idea of his Hero, by giving him such a Spear as no other could wield: The Description of it in this Place is wonderfully pompous.
Note XVII.
VERSE 183. Sprung from the Wind. ]
It is a beautiful Invention of the Poet to represent the wonderful Swiftness of the Horses of Achilles, by saying they were begotten by the western Wind. This Fiction is truly poetical, and very proper in the way of natural Allegory. However, it is not altogether improbable our Author might have design’d it even in the literal Sense: Nor ought the Notion to be thought very extravagant in a Poet, since grave Naturalists have seriously vouched the Truth of this kind of Generation. Some of these relate as an undoubted Piece of natural History, that there was anciently a Breed of this kind of Horses in Portugal, whose Damms were impregnated by a western Wind: Varro, Collumella, and Pliny, are all of this Opinion. I shall only mention the Words of Pliny, Nat. Hist. lib. 8. cap. 42. Constat in Lusitania circa Olyssiponem oppidum, & Tagum amnem, equas Favonio flante obversas animalem concipere spiritum, idque partum fieri & gigni pernicissimum. See also the same Author, l. 4. c. 22. l. 16. c. 25. Possibly Homer had this Opinion in view, which we see has Authority more than sufficient to give it place in Poetry. Virgil has given us a Description of this manner of Conception, Georgic 3.
Continuoque avidis ubi subdita flamma medullis, Vere magis (quia vere calor redit ossibus) illae Ore omnes versae in Zephyrum, stant rupibus altis, Exceptantque leves auras: & saepe sine ullis Conjugiis, vento gravidae (mirabile dictu) Saxa per & scopulos & depressas convalles Diffugiunt.—
Note XVIII.
VERSE 186. Swift Pedasus was added to their side. ]
Here was a necessity for a spare Horse (as in another Place Nestor had occasion for the same) that if by any Misfortune one of the other Horses should fall, there might be a fresh one ready at hand to supply his Place. This is good Management in the Poet, to deprive Achilles not only of his Charioteer and his Arms, but of one of his inestimable Horses. Eustathius.
Note XIX.
VERSE 194. Grim as voracious Wolves, &c.]
There is scarce any Picture in Homer so much in the savage and terrible way, as this Comparison of the Myrmidons to Wolves: It puts one in mind of the Pieces of Spagnolett, or Salvator Rosa: Each Circumstance is made up of Images very strongly colour’d, and horridly lively. The principal Design is to represent the stern Looks and fierce Appearance of the Myrmidons, a gaunt and ghastly Train of raw-bon’d bloodyminded Fellows. But besides this, the Poet seems to have some farther Views in so many different Particulars of the Comparison: Their eager desire of Fight is hinted at by the Wolves thirsting after Water: Their Strength and Vigour for the Battel is intimated by their being fill’d with Food: And as these Beasts are said to have their Thirst sharper after they are gorg’d with Prey; so the Myrmidons are strong and vigorous with Ease and Refreshment, and therefore more ardently desirous of the Combate. This Image of their Strength is inculcated by several Expressions, both in the Simile and the Application, and seems design’d in contraste to the other Greeks, who are all wasted and spent with Toil.
We have a Picture much of this kind given us by Milton, lib. 10. where Death is let loose into the new Creation, to glut his Appetite, and discharge his Rage upon all Nature.
—As when a Flock Of rav’nous Fowls, tho’ many a League remote, Against the Day of Battel, to a Field Where Armies lie encamp’d, come flying, lur’d With Scent of living Carcasses, design’d For Death the following Day, in bloody Fight. So scented the grim Feature, and upturn’d His Nostril wide into the murky Air, Sagacious of his Quarry from afar.
And by Tasso, Canto 10. St. 2. of the furious Soldan cover’d with Blood, and thirsting for fresh Slaughter.
Come dal chiuso ovil cacciato viene Lupo tal’ hor, che fugge, e si nasconde; Che se ben del gran ventre omai ripiene Ha l’ ingorde voragini profonde. Avido pur di sangue anco fuor tiene La lingua, e’l sugge da le labbra immonde; Tal’ ei sen già dopo il sanguigno stratio De la sua cupa fame anco non satio.
Note XX.
VERSE 211. Deriv’d from him whose Waters, &c.]
Homer seems resolv’d that every thing about Achilles shall be miraculous. We have seen his very Horses are of celestial Origine; and now his Commanders, tho’ vulgarly reputed the Sons of Men, are represented as the real Offspring of some Diety. The Poet thus inhances the Admiration of his chief Hero by every Circumstance with which his Imagination could furnish him.
Note XXI.
VERSE 220. To her high Chamber. ]
It was the Custom of those Times to assign the uppermost Rooms to the Women, that they might be the farther remov’d from Commerce: Wherefore Penelope in the Odysseis mounts up into a Garret, and there sits to her Business. So Priam, in the 16 th Book, ℣. 248. had Chambers for the Ladies of his Court, under the Roof of his Palace.
The Lacedaemonians call’d these high Apartments [Greek], and as the word also signifies Eggs, ’tis probable it was this that gave occasion to the Fable of Helen’s Birth, who is said to be born from an Egg. Eustathius.
Note XXII.
VERSE 283. And thus the God implor’d. ]
Tho’ the Character of Achilles every where shews a Mind sway’d with unbounded Passions, and entirely regardless of all human Authority and Law; yet he preserves a constant Respect to the Gods, and appears as zealous in the Sentiments and Actions of Piety as any Hero of the Iliad; who indeed are all remarkable this way. The present Passage is an exact Description and perfect Ritual of the Ceremonies on these Occasions. Achilles, tho’ an urgent Affair call’d for his Friend’s Assistance, would not yet suffer him to enter the Fight, till in a most solemn manner he had recommended him to the Protection of Jupiter: And this I think a stronger Proof of his Tenderness and Affection for Patroclus, than either the Grief he express’d at his Death, or the Fury he shew’d to revenge it.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 285. Dodonaean Jove.]
The frequent mention of Oracles in Homer and the ancient Authors, may make it not improper to give the Reader a general Account of so considerable a part of the Grecian Superstition; which I cannot do better than in the Words of my Friend Mr. Stanyan, in his excellent and judicious Abstract of the Grecian History.
"The Oracles were rank’d among the noblest and most religious kinds of Divination; the Design of them being to settle such an immediate way of Converse with their Gods, as to be able by them not only to explain things intricate and obscure, but also to anticipate the Knowledge of future Events; and that with far greater Certainty than they could hope for from Men, who out of Ignorance and Prejudice must sometimes either conceal or betray the Truth. So that this became the only safe way of deliberating upon Affairs of any Consequence, either publick or private. Whether to proclaim War, or conclude a Peace, to institute a new Form of Government, or enact new Laws, all was to be done with the Advice and Approbation of the Oracle, whose Determinations were always held sacred and inviolable. As to the Causes of Oracles, Jupiter was look’d upon as the first Cause of this, and all other sorts of Divination; he had the Book of Fate before him, and out of that reveal’d either more or less, as he pleas’d, to inferior Daemons. But to argue more rationally, this way of Access to the Gods has been branded as one of the earliest and grossest Pieces of Priestcraft, that obtain’d in the World. For the Priests, whose Dependance was on the Oracles, when they found the Cheat had got sufficient footing, allow’d no Man to consult the Gods without costly Sacrifices and rich Presents to themselves: And as few could bear this Expence, it serv’d to raise their Credit among the common People, by keeping them at an awful distance. And to heighten their Esteem with the better and wealthier sort, even they were only admitted upon a
few stated Days: By which the thing appear’d still more mysterious, and for want of this good Management, must quickly have been seen through, and fell to the Ground. But whatever juggling there was as to the religious Part, Oracles had certainly a good Effect as to the Publick; being admirably suited to the Genius of a People, who would join in the most desperate Expedition, and admit of any Change of Government, when they understood by the Oracle it was the irresistible Will of the Gods. This was the Method Minos, Lycurgus, and all the famous Lawgivers took; and indeed they found the People so entirely devoted to this Part of Religion, that it was generally the easiest, and sometimes the only way of winning them into a Compliance. And then they took care to have them deliver’d in such ambiguous Terms, as to admit of different Constructions according to the Exigency of the Times; so that they were generally interpreted to the Advantage of the State, unless sometimes there happen’d to be Bribery, or Flattery in the Case; as when Demosthenes complain’d that the Pythia spoke as Philip would have her. The most numerous, and of greatest Repute were the Oracles of Apollo, who in Subordination to Jupiter, was appointed to preside over, and inspire all sorts of Prophets and Diviners. And amongst these, the Delphian challeng’d the first Place, not so much in respect of its Antiquity, as its Perspicuity and Certainty; insomuch that the Answers of the Tripos came to be used proverbially for clear and infallible Truths. Here we must not omit the first Pythia or Priestess of this famous Oracle in heroic Verse. They found a secret Charm in Numbers, which made every thing look pompous and weighty. And hence it became the general Practice of Legislators, and Philosophers, to deliver their Laws and Maxims in that Dress: And scarce any thing in those Ages was writ of Excellence or Moment but in Verse. This was the Dawn of Poetry. which soon grew into Repute; and so long as it serv’d to such noble Purposes as Religion and Government, Poets were highly honour’d, and admitted into a Share of the Administration. But by that time it arriv’d to any Perfection,
they pursu’d more mean and servile Ends; and as they prostituted their Muse, and debased the Subject, they sunk proportionably in their Esteem and Dignity. As to the History of Oracles, we find them mention’d in the very Infancy of Greece; and it is as uncertain when they were finally extinct, as when they began. For they often lost their prophetick Faculty for some time, and recover’d it again. I know ’tis a common Opinion, that they were universally silenc’d upon our Saviour’s Appearance in the World: And if the Devil had been permitted for so many Ages to delude Mankind, it might probably have been so. But we are assur’d from History, that several of them continu’d till the Reign of Julian the Apostate, and were consulted by him: And therefore I look upon the whole Business as of human Contrivance; an egregious Imposture founded upon Superstition, and carry’d on by Policy and Interest, till the brighter Oracles of the holy Scriptures dispell’d these Mists of Error and Enthusiasm."
Note XXIV.
VERSE 285. Pelasgic, Dodonaean Jove.]
Achilles invokes Jupiter with these particular Appellations, and represents to him the Services perform’d by these Priests and Prophets, making these Honours paid in his own Country, his Claim for the Protection of the Deity. Jupiter was look’d upon as the first Cause of all Divination and Oracles, from whence he had the Appellation of [Greek]Il. 8. ℣. 250. The first Oracle of Dodona was founded by the Pelasgi, the most ancient of all the Inhabitants of Greece, which is confirm’d by this Verse of Hesiod, preserv’d by the Scholiast on Sophocles Trachin.
[Greek]
The Oaks of this Place were said to be endu’d with Voice, and prophetic Spirit; the Priests who gave Answers concealing themselves in these Trees; a Practice which the pious Frauds of succeeding Ages have render’d not improbable.
Note XXV.
VERSE 288. Whose Groves the Selli, Race austere! &c.]
Homer seems to me to say clearly enough, that these Priests lay on the Ground and forbore the Bath, to honour by these Austerities the God they serv’d; for he says, [Greek]and this [Greek]can in my Opinion only signify for you, that is to say, to please you, and for your Honour. This Example is remarkable, but I do not think it singular; and the earliest Antiquity may furnish us with the like of Pagans, who by an austere Life try’d to please their Gods. Nevertheless I am obliged to say, that Strabo, who speaks very much at length of these Selli in his 7 th Book, has not taken this Austerity of Life for an Effect of their Devotion, but for a Remain of the Grossness of their Ancestors; who being Barbarians, and straying from Country to Country, had no Bed but the Earth, and never used a Bath. But it is no way unlikely that what was in the first Pelasgians (who founded this Oracle) only Custom and Use, might be continu’d by these Priests thro’ Devotion. How many things do we at this Day see, which were in their Original only ancient Manner, and which are continu’d thro’ Zeal and a Spirit of Religion? It is very probable that these Priests by this hard living had a mind to attract the Admiration and Confidence of a People who lov’d Luxury and Delicacy so much. I was willing to search into Antiquity for the Original of these Selli, Priests of Jupiter, but found nothing so ancient as Homer: Herodotus writes in his second Book, that the Oracle of Dodona was the ancientest in Greece, and that it was a long time the only one; but what he adds, that it was founded by an Egyptian Woman, who was the Priestess of it, is contradicted by this Passage of Homer, who shews, that in the time of the Trojan War this Temple was serv’d by Men call’d Selli, and not by Women. Strabo informs us of a curious ancient Tradition, importing, that this Temple was at first built in Thessaly, that from thence it was carry’d into Dodona, that several Women who had plac’d their Devotion there follow’d it, and that in Process of Time the Priestesses used to be chosen from among the Descendents of those Women. To return to these Selli; Sophocles, who of all the Greek Poets is he who has most imitated Homer, speaks in like manner of these Priests in one of his Plays, where Hercules says to his Son Hillus;
"I will declare to thee a new Oracle, which perfectly agrees with this ancient one; I my self having enter’d into the sacred Wood inhabited by the austere Selli, who lie on the Ground, writ this Answer of the Oak, which is consecrated to my Father Jupiter, and which renders his Oracles in all Languages."
Dacier.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 288.] Homer in this Verse uses a word which I think singular and remarkable, [Greek]I cannot believe that it was put simply for [Greek], but am persuaded that this Term includes some particular Sense, and shews some Custom but little known, which I would willingly discover. In the Scholia of Didymus there is this Remark:
"They call’d those who serv’d in the Temple, and who explain’d the Oracles render’d by the Priests, Hypothets, or Under-Prophets. "
It is certain that there were in the Temples Servitors, or Subaltern Ministers, who for the sake of Gain, undertook to explain the Oracles which were obscure. This Custom seems very well establish’d in the Ion of Euripides; where that young Child (after having said that the Priestess is seated on the Tripod, and renders the Oracles which Apollo dictates to her) addresses himself to those who serve in the Temple, and bids them go and wash in the Castalian Fountain, to come again into the Temple and explain the Oracles to those who should demand the Explication of them. Homer therefore means to shew, that these Selli were, in the Temple of Dodona, those Subaltern Ministers that interpreted the Oracles. But this, after all, does not appear to agree with the present Passage: For, besides that the Custom was not establish’d in Homer’s Time, and that there is no Footstep of it founded in that early Age; these Selli (of whom Homer speaks) are not here Ministers subordinate to others, they are plainly the chief Priests. The Explication of this word therefore must be elsewhere sought, and I shall offer my Conjecture, which I ground upon the very Nature of this Oracle of Dodona, which was very different from all the other Oracles: In all other Temples the Priests deliver’d the Oracle which they had receiv’d from their Gods, immediately: But in the Temple of Dodona, Jupiter did not utter his Oracles to his Priests, but to his Selli; he render’d them to the Oaks, and the wonderful Oaks render’d them to the Priests, who declared them to those who consulted them: So these Priests were not properly [Greek], Prophets, since they did not receive those Answers from the Mouth of their God immediately; but they were [Greek], Under-Prophets, because they receiv’d them from the Mouth of the Oaks, if I may say so. The Oaks, properly speaking, were the Prophets, the first Interpreters of Jupiter’s Oracles; and the Selli were [Greek], Under-Prophets, because they pronounc’d what the Oaks had said. Thus Homer in one single word includes a very curious Piece of Antiquity. Dacier.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 306. Great Jove agrees to half. ]
Virgil has finely imitated this in his 11 th Aeneid.
Audiit, & voti Phoebus succedere partem Mente dedit; partem volucres dispersit in auras. Sterneret ut subitâ turbatam morte Camillam Annuit oranti; reducem ut patria alta videret Non dedit, inque notos vocem vertêre procellae.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 314. As Wasps, provok’d, &c.]
One may observe, that tho’ Homer sometimes takes his Similitudes from the meanest and smallest things in Nature, yet he orders it so as by their Appearance to signalize and give Lustre to his greatest Heroes. Here he likens a Body of Myrmidons to a Nest of Wasps, not on account of their Strength and Bravery, but of their Heart and Resentment. Virgil has imitated these humble Comparisons, as when he compares the Builders of Carthage to Bees. Homer has carry’d it a little farther in another Place, where he compares the Soldiers to Flies, for their busy Industry and Perseverance about a dead Body; not diminishing his Heroes by the Size of these small Animals, but raising his Comparisons from certain Properties inherent in them, which deserve our Observation. Eustathius. This brings into my Mind a pretty rural Simile in Spencer, which is very much in the Simplicity of the old Father of Poetry.
As gentle Shepherd in sweet Even-tide, When ruddy Phoebus ’gins to welke in West, High on a Hill, his Flock to viewen wide, Marks which do bite their hasty Supper best; A Cloud of cumb’rous Gnats do him molest, All striving to infix their feeble Stings, That from their Noyance he no whit can rest, But with his clownish Hand their tender Wings He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their Murmurings.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 354. So when thick Clouds, &c.]
All the Commentators take this Comparison in a Sense different from that in which it is here translated. They suppose Jupiter is here described cleaving the Air with a Flash of Lightning, and spreading a Gleam of Light over a high Mountain, which a black Cloud held bury’d in Darkness. The Application is made to Patroclus falling on the Trojans, and giving Respite to the Greeks, who were plung’d in Obscurity. Eustathius gives this Interpretation, but at the same time acknowledges it improper in this Comparison to represent the Extinction of the Flames by the darting of Lightning. This Explanation is founded solely on the Expression [Greek], Fulgurator Jupiter, which Epithet is often applied when no such Action is supposed. The most obvious Signification of the Words in this Passage, gives a more natural and agreeable Image, and admits of a juster Application. The Simile therefore seems to be of Jupiter dispersing a black Cloud which had cover’d a high Mountain, whereby a beautiful Prospect, which was before hid in Darkness, suddenly appears. This is applicable to the present State of the Greeks, after Patroclus had extinguish’d the Flames, which began to spread Clouds of Smoak over the Fleet. It is Homer’s Design in his Comparisons to apply them to the most obvious and sensible Image of the thing to be illustrated; which his Commentators too frequently endeavour to hide by moral and allegorical Refinements; and thus injure the Poet more, by attributing to him what does not belong to him, than by refusing him what is really his own.
It is much the same Image with that of Milton in his second Book, tho’ apply’d in a very different way.
As when from Mountain tops the dusky Clouds Ascending, while the North Wind sleeps, o’er spread Heav’ns chearful Face; the low’ring Element Scowls o’er the darkned Landskip Snow or Show’r; If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet Extend his Evening Beam, the Fields revive, The Birds their Notes renew, the bleating Herds Attest their Joy, that Hill and Vally rings.
Note XXX.
VERSE 390. Amisodarus, who, &c.]
Amisodarus was King of Caria; Bellerophon marry’d his Daughter. The Ancients guess’d from this Passage that the Chimaera was not a Fiction, since Homer marks the Time wherein she liv’d, and the Prince with whom she liv’d; they thought it was some Beast of that Prince’s Herds, who being grown furious and mad, had done a great deal of Mischief, like the Calydonian Boar. Eustathius.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 433. Yet stops, and turns, and saves his lov’d Allies. ]
Homer represents Hector, as he retires, making a stand from time to time, to save his Troops: And he expresses it by this single word [Greek]; for [Greek]does not only signify to stay, but likewise in retiring to stop from time to time; for this is the Power of the Preposition [Greek], as in the word [Greek], which signifies to fight by fits and starts; [Greek], to wrestle several times, and in many others. Eustathius.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 459. From Bank to Bank th’ immortal Coursers flew, &c.]
Homer has made of Hector’s Horses all that Poetry could make of common and mortal Horses; they stand on the Bank of the Ditch foaming and neighing for Madness that they cannot leap it. But the immortal Horses of Achilles find no Obstacle; they leap the Ditch, and fly into the Plain. Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 466. As when in Autumn Jove his Fury pours— —When guilty Mortals,, &c.]
The Poet in this Image of an Inundation, takes occasion to mention a Sentiment of great Piety, that such Calamities were the Effects of divine Justice punishing the Sins of Mankind. This might probably refer to the Tradition of an universal Deluge, which was very common among the ancient heathen Writers; most of them ascribing the Cause of this Deluge to the Wrath of Heaven provoked by the Wickedness of Men. Diodorus Siculus, l. 15. c. 5. speaking of an Earthquake and Inundation, which destroyed a great part of Greece in the 101 st Olympiad, has these Words. There was a great Dispute concerning the Cause of this Calamity: The Natural Philosophers generally ascribed such Events to necessary Causes, not to any divine Hand: But they who had more devout Sentiments gave a more probable Account hereof; asserting, that it was the divine Vengeance alone that brought this Destruction upon Men who had offended the Gods with their Impiety. And then proceeds to give an Account of those Crimes which drew down this Punishment upon them.
This is one, among a thousand Instances, of Homer’s indirect and oblique manner of introducing moral Sentences and Instructions. These agreeably break in upon his Reader even in Descriptions and poetical Parts, where one naturally expects only Painting and Amusement. We have Virtue put upon us by Surprize, and are pleas’d to find a thing where we should never have look’d to meet with it. I must do a noble English Poet the justice to observe, that it is this particular Art that is the very distinguishing Excellence of Cooper’s-Hill; throughout which, the Descriptions of Places, and Images rais’d by the Poet, are still tending to some Hint, or leading into some Reflection, upon moral Life or political Institution: Much in the same manner as the real Sight of such Scenes and Prospects is apt to give the Mind a compos’d Turn, and incline it to Thoughts and Contemplations that have a Relation to the Object.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 480. Between the Space where silver Simois flows, Where lay the Ships, and where the Rampires rose. ]
It looks at first Sight as if Patroclus was very punctual in obeying the Orders of Achilles, when he hinders the Trojans from ascending to their Town, and holds an Engagement with ’em between the Ships, the River, and the Wall. But he seems afterwards from very haste to have slipt his Commands, for his Orders were that he should drive ’em from the Ships, and then presently return; but he proceeds farther, and his Death is the Consequence, Eustathius.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 512. When now Sarpedon, &c.]
The Poet preparing to recount the Death of Sarpedon, it will not be improper to give a Sketch of some Particulars which constitute a Character the most faultless and amiable in the whole Iliad. This Hero is by Birth superior to all the Chiefs of either side, being the only Son of Jupiter engaged in this War. His Qualities are no way unworthy his Descent, since he every where appears equal in Valour, Prudence, and Eloquence, to the most admired Heroes: Nor are these Excellences blemish’d with any of those Defects with which the most distinguishing Characters of the Poem are stain’d. So that the nicest Criticks cannot find any thing to offend their Delicacy, but must be obliged to own the Manners of this Hero perfect. His Valour is neither rash nor boisterous; his Prudence neither timorous nor tricking; and his Eloquence neither talkative nor boasting. He never reproaches the living, or insults the dead: but appears uniform thro’ his Conduct in the War, acted with the same generous Sentiments that engaged him in it, having no Interest in the Quarrel but to succour his Allies in Distress. This noble Life is ended with a Death as glorious; for in his last Moments he has no other Concern, but for the Honour of his Friends, and the Event of the Day.
Homer justly represents such a Character to be attended with universal Esteem: As he was greatly honour’d when living, he is as much lamented when dead, as the chief Prop of Troy. The Poet by his Death, even before that of Hector, prepares us to expect the Destruction of that Town, when its two great Defenders are no more: and in order to make it the more signal and remarkable, it is the only Death in the Iliad attended with Prodigies: Even his Funeral is perform’d by divine Assistance, he being the only Hero whose Body is carried back to be interr’d in his native Country, and honour’d with Monuments erected to his Fame. These peculiar and distinguishing Honours seem appropriated by our Author to him alone, as the Reward of a Merit superior to all his other less perfect Heroes.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 522. As when two Vulturs. ]
Homer compares Patroclus and Sarpedon to two Vulturs, because they appear’d to be of equal Strength and Abilities, when they had dismounted from their Chariots. For this reason he has chosen to compare them to Birds of the same kind; as on another occasion, to image the like Equality of Strength, he resembles both Hector and Patroclus to Lions: But a little after this Place, diminishing the Force of Sarpedon, he compares him to a Bull, and Patroclus to a Lion. He has placed these Vulturs upon a high Rock, because it is their Nature to perch there, rather than in the Boughs of Trees. Their crooked Talons make them unfit to walk on the Ground, they could not fight steadily in the Air, and therefore their fittest Place is the Rock. Eustathius.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 535. Say, shall I snatch him from impending Fate. ]
It appears by this Passage, that Homer was of Opinion, that the Power of God could over-rule Fate or Destiny. It has puzzled many to distinguish exactly the Notion of the Heathens as to this Point. Mr. Dryden contends that Jupiter was limited by the Destinies, or (to use his Expression) was no better than Book-Keeper to them. He grounds it upon a Passage in the tenth Book of Virgil, where Jupiter mentions this Instance of Sarpedon as a Proof of his yielding to the Fates. But both that and his Citation from Ovid, amounts to no more than that Jupiter gave way to Destiny, not that he could not prevent it; the contrary to which is plain from his Doubt and Deliberation in this Place. And indeed whatever may be inferr’d of other Poets, Homer’s Opinion at least, as to the Dispensations of God to Man, has ever seem’d to me very clear, and distinctly agreeable to Truth. We shall find, if we examine his whole Works with an Eye to this Doctrine, that he assigns three Causes of all the Good and Evil that happens in this World, which he takes a particular Care to distinguish. First the Will of God, superior to all.
— [Greek]Il. 1. — [Greek]Il. 19. ℣. 90. [Greek]— &c.
Secondly, Destiny or Fate, meaning the Laws and Order of Nature affecting the Constitutions of Men, and disposing them to Good or Evil, Prosperity or Misfortune; which the supreme Being, if it be his Pleasure, may over-rule (as he is inclin’d to do in this Place) but which he generally suffers to take effect. Thirdly, our own Free-will, which either by Prudence overcomes those natural Influences and Passions, or by Folly suffers us to fall under them. Odyss. 1. ℣. 32.
[Greek]
Why charge Mankind on Heav’n their own Offence, And call their Woes the Crime of Providence? Blind! who themselves their Miseries create, And perish, by their Folly, not their Fate.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 551. Let Sleep and Death convey, by thy Command, The breathless Body to his native Land. ]
The History or Fable received in Homer’s Time imported, that Sarpedon was interr’d in Lycia, but it said nothing of his Death. This gave the Poet the Liberty of making him die at Troy, provided that after his Death he was carry’d into Lycia, to preserve the Fable. The Expedient propos’d by Juno solves all; Sarpedon dies at Troy, and is interr’d at Lycia; and what renders this probable, is, that in those Times, as at this Day, Princes and Persons of Quality who dy’d in foreign Parts, were carry’d into their own Country to be laid in the Tombs of their Fathers. The Antiquity of this Custom cannot be doubted, since it was practis’d in the Patriarch’s Times: Jacob dying in Egypt, orders his Children to carry him into the Land of Canaan, where he desir’d to be bury’d. Gen. 49. 29. Dacier.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 560. A Show’r of Blood. ]
As to Showers of a bloody Colour, many both ancient and modern Naturalists agree in asserting the Reality of such Appearances, tho’ they account for ’em differently. You may see a very odd Solution of ’em in Eustathius, Note 7 on the 11 th Iliad. What seems the most probable, is that of Fromondus in his Meteorology, who observ’d, that a Shower of this kind, which gave great Cause of Wonder, was nothing but a Quantity of very small red Insects, beat down to the Earth by a heavy Shower, whereby the Ground was spotted in several Places, as with Drops of Blood.
Note XL.
VERSE 572. —Achilles’ mortal Steed, The gen’rous Pedasus—.]
For the other two Horses of Achilles, Xanthus and Balius, were mortal, as we have already seen in this Book. ’Tis a merry Conceit of Eustathius, that Pedasus is only said to be mortal, because of the three Horses he only was a Gelding. ’Tis pity poor Pedasus had not a better Fate, to have recompensed the Loss of his Immortality.
Note XLI.
VERSE 605. Glaucus, be bold, &c.]
This dying Speech of Sarpedon deserves particular Notice, being made up of noble Sentiments, and fully answering the Character of this brave and generous Prince, which he preserves in his last Moments. Being sensible of approaching Death, without any Transports of Rage, or Desire of Revenge, he calls to his Friend to take care to preserve his Body and Arms from becoming a Prey to the Enemy: And this he says without any regard to himself, but out of the most tender Concern for his Friend’s Reputation, who must for ever become infamous if he fails in this Point of Honour and Duty. If we conceive this said by the expiring Hero, his dying Looks fix’d on his wounded disconsolate Friend, the Spear remaining in his Body, and the Victor standing by in a kind of Extasy surveying his Conquest; these Circumstances will form a very moving Picture. Patroclus all this time, either out of Humanity or Surprize, omits to pull out the Spear, which however he does not long forbear, but with it drawing forth his Vitals, puts a Period to this gallant Life.
Note XLII.
VERSE 637. —pierc’d with Pain That thrils my Arm, and shoots thro’ ev’ry Vein. ]
There seems to be an Oversight in this Place. Glaucus in the twelfth Book had been wounded with an Arrow by Teucer at the Attack of the Wall; and here so long after, we find him still on the Field, in the sharpest Anguish of his Wound, the Blood not being yet stanch’d, &c. In the Speech that next follows to Hector, there is also something liable to Censure, when he imputes to the Negligence of the Trojans the Death of Sarpedon, of which they knew nothing till that very Speech inform’d ’em. I beg leave to pass over these things without exposing or defending them, tho’ such as these may be sufficient Grounds for a most inveterate War among the Criticks.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 696. Great Jove —O’er the fierce Armies pours pernicious Night. ]
Homer calls here by the Name of Night, the Whirlwinds of thick Dust which rise from beneath the Feet of the Combatants, and which hinders them from knowing one another. Thus Poetry knows how to convert the most natural things into Miracles; these two Armies are bury’d in Dust round Sarpedon’s Body, ’tis Jupiter who pours upon them an obscure Night, to make the Battel bloodier, and to honour the Funeral of his Son by a greater Number of Victims. Eustathius.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 746. And skill’d in Dancing. ]
This Stroke of Raillery upon Meriones is founded on the Custom of his Country. For the Cretans were peculiarly addicted to this Exercise, and in particular are said to have invented the Pyrrhic Dance, which was perform’d in compleat Armour. See the forty sixth Note on the thirteenth Book.
Note XLV.
VERSE 831. Then Sleep and Death, &c.]
It is the Notion of Eustathius, that by this Interment of Sarpedon, where Sleep and Death are concern’d, Homer seems to intimate, that there was nothing else but an empty Monument of that Hero in Lycia, for he delivers him not to any real or solid Persons, but to certain unsubstantial Phantoms to conduct his Body thither. He was forced (continues my Author) to make use of these Machines, since there were no other Deities he could with any likelihood employ about this Work; for the Ancients (as appears from Euripides, Hippolyto ) had a Superstition that all dead Bodies were offensive to the Gods, they being of a Nature celestial and uncorruptible. But this last Remark is impertinent, since we see in this very Place Apollo is employ’d in adorning and embalming the Body of Sarpedon. What I think better accounts for the Passage, is what Philostratus in Heroicis affirms, that this alludes to a Piece of Antiquity.
"The Lycians shew’d the Body of Sarpedon, strew’d over with Aromatical Spices, in such a graceful Composure, that he seem’d to be only asleep: And it was this that gave Rise to the Fiction of Homer, that his Rites were perform’d by Sleep and Death. "
But after all these refin’d Observations, it is probable the Poet intended only to represent the Death of this favourite Son of Jupiter, and one of his most amiable Characters, in a gentle and agreeable View, without any Circumstances of Dread or Horror; intimating by this Fiction, that he was delivered out of all the Tumults and Miseries of Life by two imaginary Deities, Sleep and Death, who alone can give Mankind Ease and Exemption from their Misfortunes.
Note XLVI.
VERSE 847. Who first, brave Hero! &c.]
The Poet in a very moving and solemn way turns his Discourse to Patroclus. He does not accost his Muse, as it is usual with him to do, but enquires of the Hero himself who was the first, and who the last, who fell by his Hand? This Address distinguishes and signalizes Patroclus, (to whom Homer uses it more frequently, than I remember on any other occasion) as if he was some Genius or divine Being, and at the same time it is very pathetical and apt to move our Compassion. The same kind of Apostrophe is used by Virgil to Camilla.
Quem telo primum, quem postremum, aspera virgo! Dejicis? Aut quot humi morientia corpora fundis?
Note XLVII.
VERSE 904. What skilful Divers, &c.]
The Original is literally thus. ’Tis pity he is not nearer the Sea, he would furnish good Quantities of excellent Oisters, and the Storms would not frighten him; see how he exercises and plunges from the Top of his Chariot into the Plain! Who would think that there were such good Divers at Troy? This seems to be a little too long; and if this Passage be really Homer’s, I could almost swear that he intended to let us know, that a good Soldier may be an indifferent Jester. But I very much doubt whether this Passage be his: It is very likely these five last Verses were added by some of the ancient Criticks, whose Caprices Homer has frequently undergone; or perhaps some of the Rhapsodists, who in reciting his Verses, made Additions of their own to please their Auditors. And what persuades me of its being so, is, that ’tis by no means probable that Patroclus who had lately blam’d Meriones for his little Raillery against Aeneas, and told him;
"that ’twas not by Raillery or Invective that they were to repel the Trojans, but by Dint of Blows; that Council requir’d Words, but War Deeds:"
It is by no means probable, I say, that the same Patroclus should forget that excellent Precept, and amuse himself with Raillery, especially in the Sight of Hector. I am therefore of Opinion that Patroclus said no more than this Verse, [Greek], &c. Good Gods! what an active Trojan it is, and how cleverly he dives, and that the five following are Strangers, tho’ very ancient. Dacier. I must just take notice, that however mean or ill placed these Railleries may appear, there have not been wanting such fond Lovers of Homer as have admir’d and imitated ’em. Milton himself is of this Number, as may be seen from those very low Jests, which he has put into the Mouth of Satan and his Angels in the 6 th Book. What Aeneas says to Meriones upon his Dancing is nothing so trivial as those Lines, where after the Displosion of their Diabolical Enginry, Angel rowling on Archangel, they are thus derided.
—When we propounded Terms Of Composition, strait they chang’d their Minds, Flew off, and into strange Vagaries fell, As they would dance; yet for a Dance they seem’d
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps For joy of offer’d Peace— &c. —Terms that amus’d ’em all, And stumbled many; who receives them right Had need from Head to Foot well understand: Not understood, this Gift they have besides, They show us when our Foes walk not upright.
Note XLVIII.
VERSE 952. Apollo, dreadful, &c.]
If Homer is resolv’d to do any thing extraordinary, or arbitrary, which his Readers may not very well relish, he takes care however to prepare them by degrees for receiving such Innovations. He had before given us a Sketch of this Trick of the Gods in the 13 th Book, where Neptune serves Alcathous much in the same manner. Apollo here carries it a little farther; and both these are Specimens of what we are to expect from Minerva at the Death of Hector in Il. 22.
Note XLIX.
VERSE 1003. Lie there, Patroclus! &c.]
There is much Spirit in this Sarcasm of Hector upon Patroclus: Nor is Achilles exempt from the Severity of the Reflection, who (as he imagines) had persuaded his dearest Friend to attempt Exploits that were impracticable. He touches him also, for staying at home in Security himself, and encouraging Patroclus to undertake this perillous Adventure, and to seek after Spoils which he was never like to enjoy. Eustathius.
Note L.
VERSE 1027. —Hear my latest Breath, The Gods inspire in.— ]
It is an Opinion of great Antiquity, that when the Soul is on the point of being delivered from the Body, and makes a nearer Approach to the divine Nature, at such a time its Views are stronger and clearer, and the Mind endow’d with a Spirit of true Prediction. So Artemon of Miletum says in his Book of Dreams, that when the Soul hath collected all its Powers from every Limb and Part of the Body, and is just ready to be severed from it, at that time it becomes Prophetical. Socrates also in his Defence to the Athenians,
"I am now arrived at the Verge of Life, wherein it is familiar with People to foretell what will come to pass."
Eustathius. This Opinion seems alluded to in those admirable Lines of Waller.
Leaving the old, both Worlds at once they view, Who stand upon the Threshold of the new.
Note LI.
VERSE 955. The Death of Patroclus.]
I sometimes think I am in respect to Homer much like Sancho Panca with regard to Don Quixote. I believe upon the whole that no Mortal ever came near him for Wisdom, Learning, and all good Qualities. But sometimes there are certain Starts which I cannot tell what to make of, and am forced to own that my Master is a little out of the way, if not quite besides himself. The present Passage of the Death of Patroclus, attended with so many odd Circumstances to overthrow this Hero (who might, for all I can see, as decently have fallen by the Force of Hector ) are what I am at a loss to excuse, and must indeed (in my own Opinion) give them up to the Criticks. I really think almost all those Parts which have been objected against with most Clamour and Fury, are honestly defensible, and none of ’em (to confess my private Sentiment) seem to me to be Faults of any Consideration, except this Conduct in the Death of Patroclus; the Length of Nestor’s Discourse in Lib. 11. the Speech of Achilles’s Horse in the 19 th. the Conversation of that Hero with Aeneas in Lib. 20. the manner of Hector’s Flight round the Walls of Troy, and his Death, in Lib. 22. I hope, after so free a Confession, no reasonable Modern will think me touch’d with the [Greek]of Madam Dacier and others. I am sensible of the Extremes which Mankind run into, in extolling and depreciating Authors: We are not more violent and unreasonable in attacking those who are not yet establish’d into Fame, than in defending those who are, even in every minute Trifle. Fame is a Debt, which when we have kept from People as long as we can, we pay with a prodigious Interest, which amounts to twice the Value of the Principal. Thus ’tis with ancient Works as with ancient Coins, they pass for a vast deal more than they were worth at first; and the very Obscurities and Deformities which Time has thrown upon them, are the sacred Rust, which enhances their Value with all true Lovers of Antiquity.
But as I have own’d what seem my Author’s Faults, and subscrib’d to the Opinion of Horace, that Homer sometimes nods; I think I ought to add that of Longinus as to such Negligences. I can no way so well conclude the Notes to this Book as with the Translation of it.
"It may not be improper to discuss the Question in general, which of the two is the more estimable, a faulty Sublime, or a faultless Mediocrity? And consequently, if of two Works, one has the greater Number of Beauties, and the other attains directly to the Sublime, which of these shall in Equity carry the Prize? I am really persuaded that the true Sublime is incapable of that Purity which we find in Compositions of a lower Strain, and in effect that too much Accuracy sinks the Spirit of an Author; whereas the Case is generally the same with the Favourites of Nature, and those of Fortune, who with the best Oeconomy cannot, in the great Abundance they are blest with, attend to the minuter Articles of their Expence. Writers of a cool Imagination are cautious in their Management, and venture nothing, merely to gain the Character of being correct; but the Sublime is bold and enterprizing, notwithstanding that on every Advance the Danger encreaseth. Here probably some will say that Men take a malicious Satisfaction in exposing the Blemishes of an Author; that his
Errors are never forgot, while the most exquisite Beauties leave but very imperfect Traces on the Memory. To obviate this Objection I will solemnly declare, that in my Criticisms on Homer and other Authors, who are universally allow’d to be authentic Standards of the Sublime, tho’ I have censur’d their Failings with as much Freedom as any one, yet I have not presum’d to accuse them of voluntary Faults, but have gently remark’d some little Defects and Negligences, which the Mind being intent on nobler Ideas did not condescend to regard. And on these Principles I will venture to lay it down for a Maxim, that the Sublime (purely on account of its Grandeur) is preferable to all other kinds of Style, however it may fall into some Inequalities. The Argonauticks of Apollonius are faultless in their kind; and Theocritus hath shewn the happiest Vein imaginable for Pastorals, excepting those in which he has deviated from the Country: And yet if it were put to your Choice, would you have your Name descend to Posterity with the Reputation of either of those Poets, rather than with that of Homer? Nothing can be more correct than the Erigone of Eratosthenes; but is he therefore a greater Poet than Archilochus, in whose Composures Perspicuity and Order are often wanting; the divine Fury of his Genius being too impatient for Restraint, and superior to Law? Again, do you prefer the Odes of Bacchilides to Pindar’s, or the Scenes of Ion of Chios to those of Sophocles? Their Writings are allow’d to be correct, polite, and delicate; whereas, on the other Hand, Pindar and Sophocles sometimes hurry on with the greatest Impetuosity, and like a devouring Flame seize and set on Fire whatever comes in their way; but on a sudden the Conflagration is extinguish’d, and they most miserably flag when no body expects it. Yet none have so little Discernment as not to prefer the single Oedipus of Sophocles to all the Tragedies that Ion ever brought on the Stage. "In our Decisions therefore on the Characters of these great Men, who have illustrated what is useful and necessary with all the Graces and Elevation of Style; we must impartially confess that, with all their Errors, they have
"In our Decisions therefore on the Characters of these great Men, who have illustrated what is useful and necessary with all the Graces and Elevation of Style; we must impartially confess that, with all their Errors, they have
more Perfections than the Nature of Man can almost be conceiv’d capable of attaining: For ’tis merely human to excell in other kinds of Writing, but the Sublime ennobleth our Nature, and makes near Approaches to Divinity: He who commits no Faults, is barely read without Censure; but a Genius truly great excites Admiration. In short, the Magnificence of a single Period in one of these admirable Authors is sufficient to attone for all their Defects: Nay farther, if any one should collect from Homer, Demosthenes, Plato, and other celebrated Heroes of Antiquity, the little Errors that have escap’d them; they would not bear the least Proportion to the infinite Beauties to be met with in every Page of their Writings. ’Tis on this account that Envy, thro’ so many Ages, hath never been able to wrest from them the Prize of Eloquence which-their Merits have so justly acquir’d: An Acquisition which they still are, and will, in all Probability continue possess’d of, As long as Streams in silver Mazes rove, Or Spring with annual Green renews the Grove. Mr. FENTON.
more Perfections than the Nature of Man can almost be conceiv’d capable of attaining: For ’tis merely human to excell in other kinds of Writing, but the Sublime ennobleth our Nature, and makes near Approaches to Divinity: He who commits no Faults, is barely read without Censure; but a Genius truly great excites Admiration. In short, the Magnificence of a single Period in one of these admirable Authors is sufficient to attone for all their Defects: Nay farther, if any one should collect from Homer, Demosthenes, Plato, and other celebrated Heroes of Antiquity, the little Errors that have escap’d them; they would not bear the least Proportion to the infinite Beauties to be met with in every Page of their Writings. ’Tis on this account that Envy, thro’ so many Ages, hath never been able to wrest from them the Prize of Eloquence which-their Merits have so justly acquir’d: An Acquisition which they still are, and will, in all Probability continue possess’d of,
As long as Streams in silver Mazes rove, Or Spring with annual Green renews the Grove. Mr. FENTON.
Book XVII THE SEVENTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
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: Aeneas sustains the Trojans. Aeneas 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.
Index to The Argument
- [1-18] Menelaus stands guard over Patroclus
- [37-72] Euphorbus confronts—and is slain by—Menelaus
- [75-140] Apollo turns Hector back; Ajax summoned
- [153-176] Glaucus reproaches Hector’s pause
- [187-220] Hector arms in Achilles’ gear and rallies allies
- [225-250] Zeus permits Hector a brief blaze of glory
- [253-279] Trojans surge; Ajax braces the line
- [330-369] Ajax kills Hippothous and checks the drag attempt
- [374-409] Apollo rouses Aeneas to the fight
- [422-457] Combat in Zeus-sent darkness
- [462-483] Achilles unaware, Greeks vow to hold the dead
- [485-527] Achilles’ horses mourn; Zeus speaks and spurs them
- [528-607] Automedon & Alcimedon hold the chariot—Aretus falls
- [612-665] Athena, as Phoenix, steels Menelaus; Podes slain
- [668-720] Zeus’ aegis swings battle to Troy
- [721-740] Ajax prays for light; Antilochus dispatched
- [741-800] Antilochus runs; Menelaus reassumes the fight
- [801-838] Ajaxes and Meriones hoist the corpse, begin retreat
- [839-854] Fighting withdrawal to the ships
ON the cold Earth divine Patroclus spread,
Lies pierc’d with Wounds among the vulgar Dead.
Great Menelaus, touch’d with gen’rous Woe,
Springs to the Front, and guards him from the Foe:
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.
The Son of Panthus, skill’d the Dart to send,
Eyes the dead Hero and insults the Friend.
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;
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;
50Wide 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,
Instarr’d with Gems and Gold, bestrow the Shore,
With Dust dishonour’d, and deform’d with Gore.
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.
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)
Forbear, he cry’d, with fruitless Speed to chace
Achilles’ Coursers of aethereal 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.
100Then 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,
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.
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,
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.
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;
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,
Darko’er the fiery Balls, each hanging Eye-brow lowrs.
150Fast 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:
Say, shall our slaughter’d Bodies guard your Walls
While unreveng’d the great Sarpedon falls?
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.
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.
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!
200Come, 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.
Hector in proud Achilles’ Arms shall shine,
Torn from his Friend, by right of Conquest mine.
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
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.
Ah wretched Man! unmindful of thy End!
A Moment’s Glory! and what Fates attend?
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.
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,
250The 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.
Now Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon he inspires,
Now Phorcys, Chromius, and Hippothous fires;
The great Thersilochus like Fury found,
Asteropaeus kindled at the Sound,
And Ennomus, in Augury renown’d.
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 chase,
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;
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!
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!
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,
300And save Patroclus from the Dogs of Troy.
Oilean 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:
Jove, pouring Darkness o’er the mingled Fight,
Conceals the Warriors’ shining Helms in Night:
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 Moutain 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:
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;
350The 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:
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;
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 Phoebus urg’d Aeneas to the Fight;
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,
Your shameful Efforts ’gainst your selves employ,
And force th’unwilling God to ruin Troy.
Aeneas 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,
400Descends, and pants in Apisaon’s Breast:
From rich Paeonias’ 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,
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.
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,
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.
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;
As when a slaughter’d Bull’s yet reeking Hyde,
450Strain’d with full Force, and tugg’d from Side to Side,
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.
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;
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;
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.
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.
Meantime, at distance from the Scene of Blood,
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
A marble Courser by the Sculptor’s Hands,
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,
500And 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.
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;
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.
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,
550And call’d Aeneas 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,
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.
Them Chromius follows, Aretus succeeds,
Each hopes the Conquest of the lofty Steeds:
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 Aeneas’ Rage:
Yet mighty as they are, my Force to prove,
Is only mine: th’ Event belongs to Jove.
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,
600But 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.
Thus have I sooth’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 Phoenix’ 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?
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.
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;
With Riches honour’d, and with Courage blest,
650By 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 Phaenops, 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;
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 Boeotian 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: Coeranus his Name,
Who left fair Lyctus for the Fields of Fame.
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:
700This 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.
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.
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:
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.
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:
750The 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;
The mildest Manners, and the gentlest Heart:
He was, alas! But Fate decreed his End;
In Death a Hero, as in Life a Friend!
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.
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.
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)
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.
800’Tis well (said Ajax ) be it then thy Care
With Merion’s Aid, the weighty Corse to rear;
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:
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;
Aeneas storms, and Hector foams with Rage:
While Greece a heavy, thick Retreat maintains,
Wedg’d in one Body like a Flight of Cranes,
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.
850Within, 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.
Observations on the 17th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
Note I.
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.
Note II.
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 29 th Note on the 3 d Book.
Note III.
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.
Note IV.
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 16 th 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, ℣. 671. [Greek]. 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.
Note V.
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.
Note VI.
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 foeminis coeperit. 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.
Note VII.
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 at 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.
Note VIII.
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 Lapithae, 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.
Note IX.
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.
Note X.
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.
Note XI.
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.
Note XII.
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.
Note XIII.
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.
Note XIV.
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 Armous 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.
Note XV.
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.
Note XVI.
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!
Note XVII.
VERSE 247. The stubborn Arms &c.]
The Words are,
[Greek]
If we give [Greek]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.
Note XVIII.
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.
Note XIX.
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.
Note XX.
VERSE 302. Oilean Ajax first. ]
Ajax Oileus (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.
Note XXI.
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.
Note XXII.
VERSE 356. Panope renown’d. ]
Panope was a small Town twenty Stadia from Chaeronea 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 Boeotians, Schedius made use of Panope as a sort of Citadel, or Place of Arms. Dacier.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 375. He seem’d like aged Periphas.]
The Speech, of Periphas to Aeneas 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.
Note XXIV.
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.
Note XXV.
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.
Note XXVI.
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.
Note XXVII.
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.
Note XXVIII.
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.
Note XXIX.
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.
Note XXX.
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. Aelian 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 Caesar, 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, ubertim{que} 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, Aethon, It lacrymans, guttis{que} humectat grandibus ora.
Note XXXI.
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.
Note XXXII.
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,— [Greek], 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.
Note XXXIII.
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.
Note XXXIV.
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 Aeneas. 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.
Note XXXV.
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 failing, hapless Eve! Thou never from that Hour, in Paradise, Found’st either sweet Repast, or sound Repose.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 642. So burns the vengesul 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.
Note XXXVII.
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.
Note XXXVIII.
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 particuar Friend to Achilles, who might condole with him. Such was Antilochus who is sent afterwards, and who, besides, had that necessary Qualification of being [Greek]Eustathius.
Note XXXIX.
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.
[Greek]
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. [Greek]—(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.
Note XL.
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.
Note XLI.
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.
Note XLII.
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.
Note XLIII.
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.
Note XLIV.
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.
Book XVIII THE EIGHTEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE News of the Death of Patroclus, is brought to Achilles by Antilochus. Thetis hearing his Lamentations comes with all her Sea-Nymphs to comfort him. The Speeches of the Mother and Son on this Occasion. Iris appears to Achilles by the Command of Juno, and orders him to shew himself at the Head of the Intrenchments. The Sight of him turns the Fortune of the Day, and the Body of Patroclus is carried off by the Greeks. The Trojans call a Council, where Hector and Polydamas disagree in their Opinions; but the Advice of the former prevails, to remain encamp’d in the Field: The Grief of Achilles over the Body of Patroclus. Thetis goes to the Palace of Vulcan to obtain new Arms for her Son. The Description of the wonderful Works of Vulcan, and lastly, that noble one of the Shield of Achilles. The latter part of the nine and twentieth Day, and the Night ensuing, take up this Book. The Scene is at Achilles’s Tent on the Sea-shore, from whence it changes to the Palace of Vulcan.
Index to The Argument
- [1-40] Antilochus Delivers News of Patroclus’s Death
- [41-94] Thetis and the Nereids Ascend to Achilles
- [95-162] Achilles's Vow to Avenge Patroclus
- [163-184] Thetis Promises New Armor from Vulcan
- [185-240] Iris Commands Achilles to Appear at the Trench
- [241-282] Achilles's War Cry Routs the Trojans
- [283-332] The Trojan Council: Polydamas Urges Retreat
- [333-364] Hector Rejects Prudence and Vows to Fight
- [365-416] Achilles's Vigil Over Patroclus
- [417-460] Thetis Arrives at Vulcan's Forge
- [461-530] Thetis Pleads with Vulcan for New Armor
- [531-556] Vulcan Forges the Arms
- [557-626] The Shield: Cosmos, Peace, and War
- [627-664] The Shield: Plowing, Harvest, and Vineyard
- [665-704] The Shield: The Herd, the Dance, and Oceanus
- [705-712] Vulcan Completes the Armor
THUS like the Rage of Fire the Combat burns,
And now it rises, now it sinks by turns.
Meanwhile, where Hellespont’s broad Waters flow
Stood Nestor’s Son, the Messenger of Woe:
There sate Achilles, shaded by his Sails,
On hoisted Yards extended to the Gales;
Pensive he sate; for all that Fate design’d,
Rose in sad Prospect to his boding Mind.
Thus to his Soul he said. Ah! what constrains
The Greeks, late Victors, now to quit the Plains?
Is this the Day, which Heav’n so long ago
Ordain’d, to sink me with the Weight of Woe?
(So Thetis warn’d) when by a Trojan Hand,
The bravest of the Myrmidonian Band
Should lose the Light? Fulfill’d is that Decree;
Fal’n is the Warrior, and Patroclus he!
In vain I charg’d him soon to quit the Plain,
And warn’d to shun Hectorean Force in vain!
Thus while he thinks, Antilochus appears,
And tells the melancholy Tale with Tears.
Sad Tydings, Son of Peleus! thou must hear;
And wretched I, th’unwilling Messenger!
Dead is Patroclus! For his Corps they fight;
His naked Corps: His Arm’s are Hector’s Right.
A sudden Horror shot thro’ all the Chief,
And wrapt his Senses in the Cloud of Grief;
Cast on the Ground, with furious Hands he spread
The scorching Ashes o’er his graceful Head;
His purple Garments, and his golden Hairs,
Those he deforms with Dust, and these he tears:
On the hard Soil his groaning Breast he threw,
And roll’d and grovel’d, as to Earth he grew.
The Virgin Captives, with disorder’d Charms,
(Won by his own, or by Patroclus’ Arms)
Rush’d from the Tents with Cries; and gath’ring round
Beat their white Breasts, and fainted on the Ground:
While Nestor’s Son sustains a manlier Part,
And mourns the Warrior with a Warrior’s Heart;
Hangs on his Arms, amidst his frantic Woe,
And oft prevents the meditated Blow.
Far in the deep Abysses of the Main,
With hoary Nereus, and the watry Train,
The Mother Goddess from her crystal Throne
Heard his loud Cries, and answer’d Groan for Groan.
The circling Nereids with their Mistress weep,
And all the Sea-green Sisters of the Deep.
Thalia, Glauce, (ev’ry wat’ry Name)
Nesaea mild, and Silver Spio came.
Cymothoe and Cymodoce were nigh,
And the blue Languish of soft Alia’s Eye.
50Their Locks Actaea and Limnoria rear,
Then Proto, Doris, Panope appear;
Thoa, Pherusa, Doto, Melita;
Agave gentle, and Amphithoe gay:
Next Callianira, Callianassa show
Their Sister Looks; Dexamene the slow,
And swift Dynamene, now cut the Tydes:
Iaera now the verdant Wave divides;
Nemertes with Apseudes lifts the Head:
Bright Galatea quits her pearly Bed:
These Orythia, Clymene, attend,
Maera, Amphinome, the Train extend,
And black Janira, and Janassa fair,
And Amatheia with her amber Hair.
All these, and all that deep in Ocean held
Their sacred Seats, the glimm’ring Grotto fill’d;
Each beat her Iv’ry Breast with silent Woe,
Till Thetis’ Sorrows thus began to flow.
Hear me, and judge, ye Sisters of the Main!
How just a Cause has Thetis to complain?
How wretched, were I mortal, were my Fate!
How more than wretched in th’immortal State!
Sprung from my Bed a god-like Hero came,
The bravest far that ever bore the Name;
Like some fair Olive, by my careful Hand
He grew, he flourish’d, and adorn’d the Land:
To Troy I sent him; but the Fates ordain
He never, never must return again.
So short a space the Light of Heav’n to view,
So short alas! and fill’d with Anguish too?
Hear how his Sorrows echo thro’ the Shore!
I cannot ease them, but I must deplore;
I go at least to bear a tender part,
And mourn my lov’d one with a Mother’s Heart.
She said, and left the Caverns of the Main.
All bath’d in Tears, the melancholy Train
Attend her Way. Wide-opening part the Tides,
While the long Pomp the silver Wave divides.
Approaching now, they touch’d the Trojan Land;
Then, two by two, ascended up the Strand.
Th’immortal Mother, standing close beside
Her mournful Offspring, to his Sighs reply’d;
Along the Coast their mingled Clamours ran,
And thus the silver-footed Dame began.
Why mourns my Son? thy late-preferr’d Request
The God has granted, and the Greeks distrest:
Why mourns my Son? thy Anguish let me share,
Reveal the Cause, and trust a Parent’s Care.
He, deeply groaning—To this cureless Grief
Not ev’n the Thund’rers Favour brings Relief.
100Patroclus— Ah!—Say Goddess can I boast
A Pleasure now? Revenge itself is lost:
Patroclus, lov’d of all my martial Train,
Beyond Mankind, beyond my self, is slain!
Lost are those Arms the Gods themselves bestow’d
On Peleus; Hector bears the glorious Load.
Curs’d be that Day, when all the Pow’rs above
Thy Charms submitted to a mortal Love:
Oh had’st thou still, a Sister of the Main,
Pursu’d the Pleasures of the wat’ry Reign;
And happier Peleus, less ambitious, led
A mortal Beauty to his equal Bed!
E’er the sad Fruit of thy unhappy Womb
Had caus’d such Sorrows past, and Woes to come.
For soon alas! that wretched Offspring slain,
New Woes, new Sorrows shall create again:
’Tis not in Fate th’Alternate now to give;
Patroclus dead, Achilles hates to live.
Let me revenge it on proud Hector’s Heart,
Let his last Spirit smoak upon my Dart;
On these Conditions will I breathe: Till then,
I blush to walk among the Race of Men.
A Flood of Tears, at this, the Goddess shed:
Ah then, I see thee dying, see thee dead!
When Hector falls, thou dy’st.—Let Hector die,
And let me fall! ( Achilles made reply)
Far lyes Patroclus from his native plain!
He fell, and falling wish’d my Aid in vain.
Ah then, since from this miserable Day
I cast all hope of my Return away,
Since unreveng’d, a hundred Ghosts demand
The Fate of Hector from Achilles’ hand;
Since here, for brutal Courage far renown’d,
I live an idle Burden to the Ground,
(Others in Council fam’d for nobler Skill,
More useful to preserve, than I to kill)
Let me—But oh! ye gracious Pow’rs above!
Wrath and Revenge from Men and Gods remove:
Far, far too dear to ev’ry mortal Breast,
Sweet to the Soul, as Hony to the Taste;
Gath’ring like Vapours of a noxious kind
From fiery Blood, and dark’ning all the Mind.
Me Agamemnon urg’d to deadly Hate;
’Tis past—I quell it; I resign to Fate.
Yes—I will meet the Murd’rer of my Friend,
Or (if the Gods ordain it) meet my End.
The Stroke of Fate the bravest cannot shun:
The great Alcides, Jove’s unequal’d Son,
To Juno’s Hate at length resign’d his Breath,
And sunk the Victim of all-conqu’ring Death.
150So shall Achilles fall! stretch’d pale and dead,
No more the Grecian Hope, or Trojan Dread!
Let me, this instant, rush into the Fields,
And reap what Glory Life’s short Harvest yields.
Shall I not force some widow’d Dame to tear
With frantic Hands, her long dishevell’d Hair?
Shall I not force her Breast to heave with Sighs,
And the soft Tears to trickle from her Eyes?
Yes, I shall give the Fair those mournful Charms—
In vain you hold me—Hence! my Arms, my Arms!
Soon shall the sanguine Torrent spread so wide,
That all shall know, Achilles swells the Tide.
My Son (Coerulean Thetis made reply,
To Fate submitting with a secret Sigh)
The Host to succour, and thy Friends to save,
Is worthy thee; the Duty of the Brave.
But can’st thou, naked, issue to the Plains?
Thy radiant Arms the Trojan Foe detains.
Insulting Hector bears the Spoils on high,
But vainly glories, for his Fate is nigh.
Yet, yet awhile, thy gen’rous Ardor stay;
Assur’d, I meet thee at the dawn of Day,
Charg’d with refulgent Arms (a glorious Load)
Vulcanian Arms, the Labour of a God.
Then turning to the Daughters of the Main,
The Goddess thus dismiss’d her azure Train.
Ye Sister Nereids! to your Deeps descend,
Haste, and our Fathers sacred Seat attend,
I go to find the Architect divine,
Where vast Olympus starry Summits shine:
So tell our hoary Sire—This Charge she gave:
The Sea-green Sisters plunge beneath the Wave:
Thetis once more ascends the blest Abodes,
And treads the brazen Threshold of the Gods.
And now the Greeks, from furious Hector’s Force,
Urge to broad Hellespont their headlong Course:
Nor yet their Chiefs Patroclus’ Body bore
Safe thro’ the Tempest, to the Tented Shore.
The Horse, the FOot, with equal Fury join’d,
Pour’d on the Rear, and thunder’d close behind;
And like a Flame thro’ Fields of ripen’d Corn,
The Rage of Hector o’er the Ranks was born:
Thrice the slain Hero by the Foot he drew;
Thrice to the Skies the Trojan Clamours flew.
As oft’ th’ Ajaces his Assault sustain;
But check’d, he turns; repuls’d, attacks again.
With fiercer Shouts his ling’ring Troops he fires,
Nor yields a Step, nor form his Post retires:
So watchful Sheperds strive to force, in vain,
The hungry Lion from a Carcase slain.
200Ev’n yet, Patroclus had he born away,
And all the Glories of th’extended Day;
Had not high Juno, from the Realme of Air,
Secret, dispatch’d her trusty Messenger.
The various Goddess of the painted Bow,
Shot in a Whirlwind to the Shore below;
To great Achilles at his Ships she came,
And thus began the many-colour’d Dame.
Rise, Son of Peleus! rise divinely brave!
Assist the Combate, and Patroclus save:
For him the Slaughter to the Fleet they spread,
And fall by mutual Wounds around the Dead.
To drag him back to Troy the Foe contends;
Nor with his Death the Rage of Hector ends:
A Prey to Dogs he dooms the Corse to lye,
And marks the Place to fix his Head on high.
Rise, and prevent (if yet thou think of Fame)
Thy Friend’s Disgrace, thy own eternal Shame!
Who sends thee, Goddess! from th’Etherial Skies?
Achilles thus. And Iris thus replies.
I come, Pelides! from the Queen of Jove,
Th’immortal Empress of the Reamls above;
Unknown to him who sits remote on high,
Unknown to all the Synod of the Sky.
Thou com’st in vain, he cries (with Fury warm’d)
Arms I have none, and can I fight unarm’d?
Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,
Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of Day
Vulcanian Arms: What other should I wield?
Except the mighty Telamonian Shield?
That, in my Friends Defence, has Ajax spread,
While his strong Lance around him heaps the Dead:
The gallant Chief defends Menoetius’ Son,
And does, what his Achilles should have done.
Thy want of Arms (said Iris ) well we know,
But tho’ unarm’d, yet clad in Terrors, go!
Let but Achilles o’er yon’ Trench appear,
Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;
Greece from one Glance of that tremendous Eye
Shall take new Courage, and disdain to fly.
She spoke, and past in Air. The Hero rose;
Her Aegis, Pallas o’er his Shoulders throws;
Around his Brows a golden Cloud she spread;
A Stream of Glory flam’d above his Head.
As when from some beleagur’d Town arise
The Smokes high-curling to the shaded Skies;
(Seen from some Island o’er the Main afar,
When Men distrest hang out the Sign of War)
Soon as the Sun in Ocean hides his Rays,
Thick on the Hills the flaming Beacons blaze;
250With long-projected Beams the Seas are bright,
And Heav’ns high Arch reflects the ruddy Light:
So from Achilles’ Head the Splendours rise,
Reflecting Blaze on Blaze, against the Skies
Forth march’d the Chief, and distant from the Croud,
High on the Rampart rais’d his Voice aloud;
With her own Shout Minerva swells the Sound;
Troy starts astonish’d, and the Shores rebound.
As the loud Trumpet’s brazen Mouth from far
With shrilling Clangor sounds th’ Alarm of War,
Struck from the Walls, the Echoes float on high,
And the round Bulwarks, and thick Tow’rs reply,
So high his brazen Voice the Hero rear’d,
Hosts drop their Arms, and trembled as they heard;
And back the Chariots roll, and Coursers bound,
And Steeds and Men lye mingled on the Ground.
Aghast they see the living Light’nings play,
And turn their Eye-balls from the flashing Ray.
Thrice from the Trench his dreadful Voice he rais’d;
And thrice they fled, confounded and amaz’d.
Twelve in the Tumult wedg’d, untimely rush’d
On their own Spears, by their own Chariots crush’d:
While shielded from the Darts, the Greeks obtain
The long-contended Carcase of the Slain.
A lofty Bier the breathless Warrior bears:
Around, his sad Companions melt in Tears
But chief Achilles, bending down his Head,
Pours unavailing Sorrows o’er the Dead.
Whom late, triumphant with his Steeds and Car,
He sent refulgent to the Field of War,
(Unhappy Change!) now senseless, pale, he found,
Stretch’d forth, and gash’d with many a gaping Wound.
Meantime, unweary’d with his heavenly Way,
In Ocean’s Waves th’unwilling Light of Day
Quench his red Orb, at Juno’s high Command,
And from their Labours eas’d th’ Achaian Band.
The frighted Trojans (panting from the War,
Their Steeds unharness’d from the weary Car)
A sudden Council call’d: Each Chief appear’d
In haste, and standing; for to sit they fear’d.
’Twas now no Season for prolong’d Debate;
They saw Achilles, and in him their Fate.
Silent they stood: Polydamas at last,
Skill’d to discern the Future by the past,
The Son of Panthus, thus exprest his Fears;
(The Friend of Hector, and of equal Years:
The self same Night to both a Being gave,
One wise in Council, one in Action brave.)
In free Debate, my Friends, your Sentence speak:
For me, I move, before the Morning break
300To raise our Camp: Too dang’rous here our Post,
Far from Troy Walls, and on a naked Coast.
I deem’d not Greece so dreadful, while engag’d
In mutual Feuds, her King and Hero rag’d;
Then, while we hop’d our Armies might prevail,
We boldly camp’d beside a thousand Sail.
I dread Pelides now: his Rage of Mind
Not long continues to the Shores confin’d,
Nor to the Fields, where long in equal Fray
Contending Nations won and lost the Day;
For Troy, for Troy, shall henceforth be the Strife,
And the hard Contest not for Fame, but Life.
Haste then to Ilion, while the fav’ring Night
Detains those Terrors, keeps that Arm from Fight;
If but the Morrow’s Sun behold us here,
That Arm, those Terrors, we shall feel, not fear;
And Hearts that now disdain, shall leap with Joy,
If Heav’n permits them then to enter Troy.
Let not my fatal Prophecy be true,
Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue.
Whatever be our Fate, yet let us try
What Force of Thought and Reason can supply;
Let us on Counsel for our Guard depend;
The Town, her Gates and Bulwarks shall defend:
When Morning dawns, our well-appointed Pow’rs
Array’d in Arms, shall line the lofty Tow’rs.
Let the fierce Hero then, when Fury calls,
Vent his mad Vengeance on our rocky Walls,
Or fetch a thousand Circles round the Plain,
Till his spent Coursers seek the Fleet again:
So may his Rage be tir’d, and labour’d down;
And Dogs shall tear him, e’er he sack the Town.
Return? (said Hector, fir’d with stern Disdain)
What, coop whole Armies in our Walls again?
Was’t not enough, ye valiant Warriors say,
Nine Years imprison’d in those Tow’rs ye lay?
Wide o’er the World was Ilion fam’d of old
For Brass exhaustless, and for Mines of Gold:
But while inglorious in her Walls we stay’d,
Sunk were her Treasures, and her Stores decay’d;
The Phrygians now her scatter’d spoils enjoy,
And proud Maeonia wasts the Fruits of Troy.
Great Jove at length my Arms to Conquest calls,
And shuts the Grecians in their wooden Walls:
Dar’st thou dispirit whom the Gods incite?
Flies any Trojan? I shall stop his Flight.
To better Counsel then Attention lend,
Take due Refreshment, and the Watch attend.
If there be one whose Riches cost him Care,
Forth let him bring them, for the Troops to share;
350’Tis better gen’rously bestow’d on those,
Than left the Plunder of our Country’s Foes.
Soon as the Morn the rosie Welkin warms
Fierce on yon’ Navy will we pour our Arms.
If great Achilles rise in all his Might,
His be the Danger: I shall stand the Fight.
Honor, ye Gods! or let me gain, or give;
And live he glorious, whosoe’er shall live!
Mars is our common Lord, alike to all;
And oft’ the Victor triumphs, but to fall.
The shouting Host in loud Applauses join’d;
So Pallas robb’d the Many of their Mind,
To their own Sense condemn’d! and left to chuse
The worse Advice, the better to refuse.
While the long Night extends her sable Reign,
Around Patroclus mourn’d the Grecian Train.
Stern in superior Grief Pelides stood;
Those slaught’ring Arms, so us’d to bathe in Blood,
Now clasp his clay-cold Limbs: Then gushing start
The Tears, and Sighs burst from his swelling Heart.
The Lion thus, with dreadful Anguish stung,
Roars thro’ the Desart, and demands his Young;
When the grim Savage to his rifled Den
Too late returning, snuffs the Track of Men,
And o’er the Vales, and o’er the Forrest bounds;
His clam’rous Grief the bellowing Wood resounds.
So grieves Achilles; and impetuous, vents
To all his Myrmidons, his loud Laments.
In what vain Promise, Gods! did I engage?
When to console Menaetius’ feeble Age,
I vow’d his much-lov’d Offspring to restore,
Charg’d with rich Spoils, to fair Opuntia’s Shore!
But mighty Jove cuts short, with just Disdain,
The long, long Views of poor, designing Man!
One Fate the Warrior and the Friend shall strike,
And Troy’s black Sands must drink our Blood alike:
Me too, a wretched Mother shall deplore,
An aged Father never see me more!
Yet, my Patroclus! yet a space I stay,
Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way.
E’er thy dear Relicks in the Grave are laid,
Shall Hector’s Head be offer’d to thy Shade;
That, with his Arms, shall hang before thy Shrine,
And twelve, the noblest of the Trojan Line,
Slain by this Hand, sad Sacrifice! expire;
Their Lives effus’d around thy flaming Pyre.
Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely prest,
Bathe thy cold Face, and sob upon thy Breast!
While Trojan Captives here thy Mourners stay,
Weep all the Night, and murmur all the Day:
400Spoils of my Arms, and thine; when, wasting wide,
Our Swords kept time, and conquer’d side by side.
He spoke, and bid the sad Attendants round
Cleanse the pale Corse, and wash each honour’d Wound.
A massy Caldron of stupendous Frame
They brought, and plac’d it o’er the rising Flame:
Then heap the lighted Wood; the Flame divides
Beneath the Vase, and climbs around the Sides:
In its wide Womb they pour the rushing Stream;
The boiling Water bubbles to the Brim:
The Body then they bathe with pious Toil,
Embalm the Wounds, anoint the Limbs with Oyl;
High on a Bed of State extended laid,
And decent cover’d with a linen Shade;
Last o’er the Dead the milkwhite Linen threw;
That done, their Sorrows and their Sighs renew.
Meanwhile to Juno, in the Realms above,
(His Wife and Sister) spoke almighty Jove.
At last thy Will prevails: Great Peleus’ Son
Rises in Arms: Such Grace thy Greeks have won.
Say (for I know not) is their Race divine,
And thou the Mother of that martial Line?
What Words are these (th’Imperial Dame replies,
While Anger flash’d from her majestick Eyes)
Succour like this a mortal Arm might lend,
And such Success mere human Wit attend:
And shall not I, the second Pow’r above,
Heav’ns Queen, and Consort of the thund’ring Jove,
Say, shall not I one Nation’s Fate command,
Not wreak my Vengeance on one guilty Land?
So they. Meanwhile the silver-footed Dame
Reach’d the Vulcanian Dome, Eternal Frame!
High eminent amid the Works divine,
Where Heav’ns far-beaming, brazen Mansions shine.
There the lame Architect the Goddess found,
Obscure in Smoak, his Forges flaming round,
While bath’d in Sweat from Fire to Fire he flew,
And puffing loud, the roaring Bellows blew.
That Day, no common Task his Labour claim’d:
Full twenty Tripods for his Hall he fram’d,
That plac’d on living Wheels of massy Gold,
(Wond’rous to tell) instinct with Spirit roll’d
From Place to Place, around the blest Abodes,
Self-mov’d, obedient to the Beck of Gods:
For their fair Handles now, o’erwrought with Flow’rs,
In Molds prepar’d, the glowing Ore he pours.
Just as responsive to his Thought, the Frame
Stood prompt to move, the Azure Goddess came:
Charis, his Spouse, a Grace divinely fair,
(With purple Fillets round her braided Hair)
450Observ’d her ent’ring; her soft Hand she press’d,
And smiling, thus the wat’ry Queen address’d.
What, Goddess! this unusual Favour draws?
All hail, and welcome! whatsoe’er the Cause:
Till now a Stranger, in a happy Hour
Approach, and taste the Dainties of the Bow’r.
High on a Throne, with Stars of silver grac’d
And various Artifice, the Queen she plac’d;
A Footstool at her Feet: then calling, said,
Vulcan draw near, ’tis Thetis asks your Aid.
Thetis (reply’d the God) our Pow’rs may claim,
An ever dear, and ever honour’d Name!
When my proud Mother hurl’d me from the Sky,
(My aukward Form, it seems, displeas’d her Eye)
She, and Eurynome, my Griefs redrest,
Tnd soft receiv’d me on their silver Breast.
Ev’n then, these Arts employ’d my infant Thought;
Chains, Bracelets, Pendants, all their Toys I wrought.
Nine Years kept secret in the dark Abode,
Secure I lay, conceal’d from Man and God:
Deep in a cavern’d Rock my Days were led;
The rushing Ocean murmur’d o’er my Head.
Now since her Presence glads our Mansion, say,
For such Desert what Service can I pay?
Vouchsafe, O Thetis! at our Board to share
The genial Rites, and hospitable Fare;
While I my Labours of the Forge forego,
And bid the roaring Bellows cease to blow.
Then from his Anvil the lame Artist rose;
Wide with distorted Legs, oblique he goes,
And stills the Bellows, and (in order laid)
Locks in their Chest his Instruments of Trade.
Then with a Sponge the sooty Workman drest
His brawny Arms imbrown’d, and hairy Breast.
With his huge Scepter grac’d, and red Attire,
Came halting forth the Sov’reign of the Fire:
The Monarch’s Steps two Female Forms uphold,
That mov’d, and breath’d, in animated Gold;
To whom was Voice, and Sense, and Science given
Of Works divine (such Wonders are in Heav’n!)
On these supported, with unequal Gait,
He reach’d the Throne where pensive Thetis sate;
There plac’d beside her on the shining Frame,
He thus address’d the silver-footed Dame.
Thee, welcome Goddess! what Occasion calls,
(So long a Stranger) to these honour’d Walls?
’Tis thine, fair Thetis, the Command to lay,
And Vulcan’s Joy, and Duty, to obey,
To whom the mournful Mother thus replies,
(The crystal Drops stood trembling in her Eyes)
500Oh Vulcan! say, was ever Breast divine
So pierc’d with Sorrows, so o’erwhelm’d as mine?
Of all the Goddesses, did Jove prepare
For Thetis only such a Weight of Care?
I, only I, of all the wat’ry Race,
By Force subjected to a Man’s Embrace,
Who, sinking now with Age, and Sorrow, pays
The mighty Fine impos’d on length of Days.
Sprung from my Bed a god-like Hero came,
The bravest sure that ever bore the Name;
Like some fair Plant beneath my careful Hand
He grew, he flourish’d, and he grac’d the Land:
To Troy I sent him! but his native Shore
Never, ah never, shall receive him more;
(Ev’n while he lives, he wastes with secret Woe)
Nor I, a Goddess, can retard the Blow!
Robb’d of the Prize the Grecian Suffrage gave,
The King of Nations forc’d his royal Slave:
For this he griev’d; and till the Greeks opprest
Requir’d his Arm, he sorrow’d unredrest.
Large Gifts they promise, and their Elders send;
In vain—He arms not, but permits his Friend
His Arms, his Steeds, his Forces to employ;
He marches, combates, almost conquers Troy:
Then slain by Phoebus ( Hector had the Name)
At once resigns his Armour, Life, and Fame.
But thou, in Pity, by my Pray’r be won;
Grace with immortal Arms this short-liv’d Son,
And to the Field in martial Pomp restore,
To shine with Glory, till he shines no more!
To her the Artist-God. Thy Griefs resign,
Secure, what Vulcan can, is ever thine.
O could I hide him from the Fates as well,
Or with these Hands the cruel Stroke repell,
As I shall forge most envy’d Arms, the Gaze
Of wond’ring Ages, and the World’s Amaze!
Thus having said, the Father of the Fires
To the black Labours of his Forge retires.
Soon as he bade them blow, the Bellows turn’d
Their iron Mouths; and where the Furnace burn’d,
Resounding breath’d: At once the Blast expires,
And twenty Forges catch at once the Fires;
Just as the God directs, now loud, now low,
They raise a Tempest, or they gently blow.
In hissing Flames huge silver Bars are roll’d,
And stubborn Brass, and Tin, and solid Gold:
Before, deep fix’d, th’eternal Anvils stand;
The pond’rous Hammer loads his better Hand,
His left with Tongs turns the vex’d Metal round;
And thick, strong Strokes, the doubling Vaults rebound.
550Then first he form’d th’immense and solid Shield;
Rich, various Artifice emblaz’d the Field;
Its utmost Verge a threefold Circle bound;
A silver Chain suspends the massy Round,
Five ample Plates the broad Expanse compose,
And god-like Labours on the Surface rose.
There shone the Image of the Master Mind:
There Earth, there Heav’n, there Ocean he design’d;
Th’unweary’d Sun, the Moon compleatly round;
The starry Lights that Heav’ns high Convex crown’d;
The Pleiads, Hyads, with the Northern Team;
And great Orion’s more refulgent Beam;
To which, around the Axle of the Sky,
The Bear revolving, points his golden Eye,
Still shines exalted on th’aetherial Plain,
Nor bends his blazing Forehead to the Main.
Two Cities radiant on the Shield appear,
The Image one of Peace, and one of War.
Here sacred Pomp, and genial Feast delight,
And solemn Dance, and Hymenaeal Rite;
Along the Street the new-made Brides are led,
With Torches flaming, to the nuptial Bed;
The youthful Dancers in a Circle bound
To the soft Flute, and Cittern’s silver Sound:
Thro’ the fair Streets, the Matrons in a Row,
Stand in their Porches, and enjoy the Show.
There, in the Forum swarm a num’rous Train;
The Subject of Debate, a Townsman slain:
One pleads the Fine discharg’d, which one deny’d,
And bade the Publick and the Laws decide:
The Witness is produc’d on either Hand;
For this, or that, the partial People stand:
Th’appointed Heralds still the noisy Bands,
And form a Ring, with Scepters in their Hands;
On Seats of Stone, within the sacred Place,
The rev’rend Elders nodded o’er the Case;
Alternate, each th’attesting Scepter took,
And rising solemn, each his Sentence spoke.
Two golden Talents lay amidst, in sight,
The Prize of him who best adjudg’d the Right.
Another Part (a Prospect diff’ring far)
Glow’d with refulgent Arms, and horrid War.
Two mighty Hosts a leaguer’d Town embrace,
And one would pillage, one wou’d burn the Place.
Meantime the Townsmen, arm’d with silent Care,
A secret Ambush on the Foe prepare:
Their Wives, their Children, and the watchful Band,
Of trembling Parents on the Turrets stand.
They march; by Pallas and by Mars made bold;
Gold were the Gods, their radiant Garments Gold,
600And Gold their Armour: These the Squadron led,
August, Divine, Superior by the Head!
A Place for Ambush fit, they found, and stood
Cover’d with Shields, beside a silver Flood.
Two Spies at distance lurk, and watchful seem
If Sheep or Oxen seek the winding Stream.
Soon the white Flocks proceeded o’er the Plains,
And Steers slow-moving, and two Shepherd Swains;
Behind them, piping on their Reeds, they go,
Nor fear an Ambush, nor suspect a Foe.
In Arms the glitt’ring Squadron rising round
Rush sudden; Hills of Slaughter heap the Ground,
Whole Flocks and Herds lye bleeding on the Plains,
And, all amidst them, dead, the Shepherd wains!
The bellowing Oxen the Besiegers hear;
They rise, take Horse, approach, and meet the War;
They fight, they fall, beside the silver Flood;
The waving Silver seem’d to blush with Blood.
There Tumult, there Contention stood confest;
One rear’d a Dagger at a Captive’s Breast,
One held a living Foe, that freshly bled
With new-made Wounds; another dragg’d a dead;
Now here, now there, the Carcasses they tore:
Fate stalk’d amidst them, grim with human Gore.
And the whole War came out, and met the Eye;
And each bold Figure seem’d to live, or die.
A Field deep furrow’d, next the God design’d,
The third time labour’d by the sweating Hind;
The shining Shares full many Plowmen guide,
And turn their crooked Yokes on ev’ry side.
Still as at either End they wheel around,
The Master meets ’em with his Goblet crown’d;
The hearty Draught rewards, renews their Toil;
Then back the turning Plow-shares cleave the Soil:
The new-ear’d Earth in blacker Ridges roll’d;
Sable it look’d, tho form’d of molten Gold.
Another Field rose high with waving Grain;
With bended Sickles stand the Reaper-Train:
Here stretch’d in Ranks the level’d Swarths are found,
Sheaves heap’d on Sheaves, here thicken up the Ground.
With sweeping Stroke the Mowers strow the Lands;
The Gath’rers follow, and collect in Bands;
And last the Children, in whose Arms are born
(Too short to gripe them) the brown Sheaves of Corn.
The rustic Monarch of the Field descries
With silent Glee, the Heaps around him rise.
A ready Banquet on the Turf is laid,
Beneath an ample Oak’s expanded Shade.
The Victim-Ox the sturdy Youth prepare;
The Reaper’s due Repast, the Women’s Care.
650Next, ripe in yellow Gold, a Vineyard shines,
Bent with the pond’rous Harvest of its Vines;
A deaper Dye the dangling Clusters show,
And curl’d on silver Props, in order glow:
A darker Metal mixt, intrench’d the Place;
And Pales of glitt’ring Tin th’Enclosure grace.
To this, one Pathway gently winding leads,
Where march a Train with Baskets on their Heads,
(Fair Maids, and blooming Youths) that smiling bear
The purple Product of th’Autumnal Year.
To these a Youth awakes the warbling Strings,
Whose tender Lay the Fate of Linus sings;
In measur’d Dance behind him move the Train,
Tune soft the Voice, and answer to the Strain.
Here, Herds of Oxen march, erect and bold,
Rear high their Horns, and seem to lowe in Gold,
And speed to Meadows on whose sounding Shores
A rapid Torrent thro’ the Rushes roars:
Four golden Herdsmen as their Guardians stand,
And nine sour Dogs compleat the rustic Band.
Two Lions rushing from the Wood appear’d;
And seiz’d a Bull, the Master of the Herd:
He roar’d: in vain the Dogs, the Men withstood,
They tore his Flesh, and drank the sable Blood.
The Dogs (oft’ chear’d in vain) desert the Prey,
Dread the grim Terrors, and at distance bay.
Next this, the Eye the Art of Vulcan leads
Deep thro’ fair Forests, and a Length of Meads;
And Stalls, and Folds, and scatter’d Cotts between;
And fleecy Flocks, that whiten all the Scene.
A figur’d Dance succeeds: Such once was seen
In lofty Gnossus, for the Cretan Queen,
Form’d by Daedalean Art. A comely Band
Of Youths and Maidens, bounding Hand in Hand;
The Maids in soft Cymarrs of Linen drest;
The Youths all graceful in the glossy Vest;
Of those the Locks with flow’ry Wreaths inroll’d,
Of these the Sides adorn’d with Swords of Gold,
That glitt’ring gay, from silver Belts depend.
Now all at once they rise, at once descend,
With well-taught Feet: Now shape, in oblique ways,
Confus’dly regular, the moving Maze:
Now forth at once, too swift for sight, they spring,
And undistinguish’d blend the flying Ring:
So whirls a Wheel, in giddy Circle tost,
And rapid as it runs, the single Spokes are lost.
The gazing Multitudes admire around;
Two active Tumblers in the Center bound;
Now high, now low, their plaint Limbs they bend,
And gen’ral Songs the sprightly Revel end.
700Thus the broad Shield complete the Artist crown’d
With his last Hand, and pour’d the Ocean round:
In living Silver seem’d the Waves to roll,
And beat the Buckler’s Verge, and bound the whole.
This done, whate’er a Warrior’s Use requires
He forg’d; the Cuirass that outshone the Fires;
The Greaves of ductile Tin, the Helm imprest
With various Sculpture, and the golden Crest.
At Thetis’ Feet the finish’d Labour lay;
She, as a Falcon cuts th’Aerial way,
Swift from Olympus’ snowy Summit flies,
And bears the blazing Present through the Skies.
One way, a Band select from Forage drives
A Herd of Beeves, fair Oxen, and fair Kine
From a fat Meadow-ground; or fleecy Flock,
Ewes and their bleating Lambs, across the Plain,
Their Booty: Scarce with Life the Shepherds fly,
But call in Aid, which makes a bloody Fray,
With cruel Tournament the Squadrons join
Where Cattel pastur’d late, now scatter’d lies
With Carcasses and Arms th’ensanguin’d Field
Deserted.—Others to a City strong
Lay siege, encamp’d; by Battery, Scale, and Mine
Assaulting; others from the Wall defend
With Dart and Jav’lin, Stones, and sulph’rous Fire:
On each hand Slaughter and gigantic Deeds.
In other part, the scepter’d Heralds call
To Council in the City Gates: anon
Grey-headed Men and grave, with Warriors mixt,
Assemble, and Harangues are heard—
Observations on the 18th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
- Note XLVI.
- Note XLVII.
- Note OBSERVATIONS ON THE SHIELD of ACHILLES.
Note I.
VERSE 1. Thus like the Rage of Fire, &c.]
This Phrase is usual in our Author, to signify a sharp Battel fought with Heat and Fury on both parts; such an Engagement like a Flame, preying upon all sides, and dying the sooner, the fiercer it burns. Eustathius.
Note II.
VERSE 6. On hoisted Yards. ]
The Epithet [Greek]in this Place has a more than ordinary Sgnification. It implies that the Sail-yards were hoisted up, and Achilles’s Ships on the point to set sail. This shews that it was purely in Compliance to his Friend that he permitted him to succour the Greeks; he meant to leave ’em as soon as Patroclus return’d; he still remember’d what he told the Embassadors in the ninth Book; ℣. 360. To morrow you shall see my Fleet set sail. Accordingly this is the Day appointed, and he is fix’d to his Resolution: This Circumstance wonderfully strengthens his implacable Character.
Note III.
VERSE 7. Pensive he sate. ]
Homer in this artful manner prepares Achilles for the fatal Message, and gives him these Forebodings of his Misfortunes, that they might be no less than he expected.
His Expressions are suitable to his Concern, and deliver’d confusedly.
"I bad him (says he) after he had sav’d the Ships, and repuls’d the Trojans, to return back, and not engage himself too far."
Here he breaks off, when he should have added;
"But he was so unfortunate as to forget my Advice."
As he is reasoning with himself, Antilochus comes in, which makes him leave the Sense imperfect. Eustathius.
Note IV.
VERSE 15. Fulfill’d is that Decree? Slain is the Warrior? and Patroclus he!
It may be objected, that Achilles seems to contradict what had been said in the foregoing Book, that Thetis conceal’d from her Son the Death of Patroclus in her Prediction. Whereas here he says, that she had foretold he should lose the bravest of the Thessalians. There is nothing in this but what is natural and common among Mankind: And it is still more agreeable to the hasty and inconsiderate Temper of Achilles, not to have made that Reflection till it was too late. Prophecies are only Marks of divine Prescience, not Warnings to prevent human Misfortunes; for if they were, they must hinder their own Accomplishment.
Note V.
VERSE 21. Sad Tydings, Son of Peleus!]
This Speech of Antilochus ought to serve as a Model for the Brevity with which so dreadful a piece of News ought to be deliver’d; for in two Verses it comprehends the whole Affair, the Death of Patroclus, the Person that kill’d him, the Contest for his Body, and his Arms in the Possession of the Enemy. Besides, it shou’d be observ’d that Grief has so crowded his Words, that in these two Verses he leaves the Verb [Greek], they fight, without its Nominative, the Greeks or Trojans. Homer observes this Brevity upon all the like Occasions. The Greek Tragic Poets have not always imitated this Discretion. In great Distresses there is nothing more ridiculous than a Messenger who begins a long Story with pathetic Descriptions; he speaks without being heard; for the Person to whom he addresses himself has no time to attend him: The first Word, which discovers to him his Misfortune, has made him deaf to all the rest. Eustathius.
Note VI.
VERSE 25. A sudden Horrour, &c.]
A modern French Writer has drawn a Parallel of the Conduct of Homer and Virgil, in relation to the Deaths of Patroclus and of Pallas. The latter is kill’d by Turnus, as the former by Hector; Turnus triumphs in the Spoils of the one, as Hector is clad in the Arms of the other; Aeneas revenges the Death of Pallas by that of Turnus, as Achilles the Death of Patroclus by that of Hector. The Grief of Achilles in Homer on the score of Patroclus, is much greater than that of Aeneas in Virgil, for the sake of Pallas. Achilles gives himself up to Despair with a Weakness which Plato could not pardon in him, and which can only be excus’d on account of the long and close Friendship between ’em: That of Aeneas is more discreet, and seems more worthy of a Hero. It was not possible that Aeneas could be so deeply interested for any Man, as Achilles was interested for Patroclus: For Virgil had no Colour to kill Ascanius, who was little more than a Child; besides, that his Hero’s Interest in the War of Italy was great enough of itself, not to need to be animated by so touching a Concern as the fear of losing his Son. On the other hand, Achilles having but very little personal Concern in the War of Troy (as he had told Agamemnon in the beginning of the Poem) and knowing, besides, that he was to perish there, required some very pressing Motive to engage him to persist in it, after such Disgusts and Insults as he had received. It was this which made it necessary for these two great Poets to treat a Subject so much in their own Nature alike, in a manner so different. But as Virgil found it admirable in Homer, he was willing to approach it, as near as the Oeconomy of his Work would permit.
Note VII.
VERSE 27. Cast on the Ground, &c.]
This is a fine Picture of the Grief of Achilles: We see on the one hand, the Posture in which the Hero receives the News of his Friend’s Death; he falls upon the Ground, he rends his Hair, he snatches the Ashes and casts them on his Head, according to the manner of those Times; (but what much enlivens it in this place, is his sprinkling Embers instead of Ashes in the Violence of his Passion.) On the other side, the Captives are running from their Tents, ranging themselves about him, and answering to his Groans: Beside him stands Antilochus, fetching deep Sighs, and hanging on the Arms of the Hero, for fear his Despair and Rage should cause some desperate Attempt upon his own Life: There is no Painter but will be touch’d with this Image.
Note VIII.
VERSE 33. The Virgin Captives. ]
The captive Maids lamented either in Pity for their Lord, or in Gratitude to the Memory of Patroclus, who was remarkable for his Goodness and Affability; or under these Pretences mourn’d for their own Misfortunes and Slavery. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 75. Like some fair Plant, beneath my careful Hand. ]
This Passage, where the Mother compares her Son to a tender Plant, rais’d and preserv’d with Care; has a most remarkable Resemblance to that in the Psalms, Thy Children like Branches of Olive Trees round thy Table. Psal. 127.
Note X.
VERSE 100, 125. The two Speeches of Achilles to Thetis.]
It is not possible to imagine more lively and beautiful Strokes of Nature and Passion, than those which our Author ascribes to Achilles throughout these admirable Speeches. They contain all, that the truest Friend, the most tender Son, and the most generous Hero, could think or express in this delicate and affecting Circumstance. He shews his Excess of Love to his Mother, by wishing he had never been born or known to the World, rather than she should have endur’d so many Sufferings on his account: He shews no less Love for his Friend, in resolving to revenge his Death upon Hector, tho’ his own would immediately follow. We see him here ready to meet his Fate for the sake of his Friend, and in the Odysseis we find him wishing to live again only to maintain his Father’s Honour against his Enemies: Thus he values neither Life nor Death, but as they conduce to the Good of his Friend and Parents, or the Encrease of his Glory.
After having calmly consider’d the present State of his Life, he deliberately embraces his approaching Fate; and comforts himself under it, by a Reflection on those great Men, whom neither their illustrious Actions, nor their Affinity to Heaven, could save from the general Doom. A Thought very natural to him, whose Business it was in Peace to sing their Praises, and in War to imitate their Actions. Achilles, like a Man passionate of Glory, takes none but the finest Models; he thinks of Hercules, who was the Son of Jupiter, and who had fill’d the Universe with the Noise of his immortal Actions: These are the Sentiments of a real Hero. Eustathius.
Note XI.
VERSE 137. Let me—But oh ye gracious Powers &c.]
Achilles’s Words are these;
"Now since I am never to return home, and since I lie here an useless Person, losing my best Friend, and exposing the Greeks to so many Dangers by my own Folly; I who am superior to them all in Battel
—Here he breaks off, and says—May Contention perish everlastingly, &c. Achilles leaves the Sentence thus suspended, either because in his Heat he had forgot what he was speaking of, or because he did not know how to end it; for he should have said,—
"Since I have done all this, I’ll perish to revenge him:"
Nothing can be finer than this sudden Execration against Discord and Revenge, which breaks from the Hero in the deep Sense of the Miseries those Passions had occasion’d him.
Achilles could not be ignorant that he was superior to others in Battel; and it was therefore no Fault in him to say so. But he is so ingenuous as to give himself no farther Commendation than what he undoubtedly merited; confessing at the same time, that many exceeded him in Speaking: Unless one may take this as said in contempt of Oratory, not unlike that of Virgil,
Orabunt caussas meliùs— &c.
Note XII.
VERSE 153. Let me this instant. ]
I shall have time enough for inglorious Rest when I am in the Grave, but now I must act like a living Hero: I shall indeed lie down in Death, but at the same time rise higher in Glory. Eustathius.
Note XIII.
VERSE 162. That all shall know, Achilles.]
There is a great Stress on [Greek]and [Greek]. They shall soon find that their Victories have been owing to the long Absence of a Hero, and that Hero Achilles. Upon which the Ancients have observ’d, that since Achilles’s Anger there past in reality but a few Days: To which it may be reply’d, that so short a Time as this might well seem long to Achilles, who thought all unactive Hours tedious and insupportable; and if the Poet himself had said that Achilles was long absent, he had not said it because a great many Days had past, but because so great a Variety of Incidents had happen’d in that Time. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 217.—This Promise of Thetis to present her Son with a new Suit of Armour, was the most artful Method of hindering him from putting immediately in practice his Resolutions of fighting, which according to his violent Manners, he must have done: Therefore the Interposition of Thetis here was absolutely necessary; it was Dignus vindice nodus.
Note XV.
VERSE 219. Who sends thee Goddess, &c.]
Achilles is amazed, that a Moment after the Goddess his Mother had forbid him fighting, he shou’d receive a contrary Order from the Gods: Therefore he asks what God sent her? Dacier.
Note XVI.
VERSE 226. Arms I have none. ]
It is here objected against Homer, that since Patroclus took Achilles’ Armour, Achilles could not want Arms while he had those of Patroclus; but (besides that Patroclus might have given his Armour to his Squire Automedon, the better to deceive the Trojans by making them take Automedon for Patroclus, as they took Patroclus for Achilles ) this Objection may be very solidly answer’d by saying that Homer has prevented it, since he made Achilles’s Armour fit Patroclus’s Body not without a Miracle, which the Gods wrought in his Favour. Furthermore, it does not follow that because the Armour of a large Man fits one that is smaller, the Armour of a little Man shou’d fit one that is larger. Eustathius.
Note XVII.
VERSE 230. Except the mighty Telamonian Shield. ]
Achilles seems not to have been of so large a Stature as Ajax: Yet his Shield ’tis likely might be fit enough for him, because his great Strength was sufficient to wield it. This Passage, I think, might have been made use of by the Defenders of the Shield of Achilles against the Criticks, to shew that Homer intended the Buckler of his Hero for a very large one: And one would think he put it into this place, just a little before the Description of that Shield, on purpose to obviate that Objection.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 236. But as thou art, unarm’d ]
A Hero so violent and so outragious as Achilles, and who had just lost the Man he lov’d best in the World, is not likely to refuse shewing himself to the Enemy, for the single Reason of having no Armour. Grief and Despair in a great Soul are not so prudent and reserv’d; but then on the other side, he is not to throw himself in the midst of so many Enemies arm’d and flush’d with Victory. Homer gets out of this nice Circumstance with great Dexterity, and gives to Achilles’s Character every thing he ought to give it, without offending either against Reason or Probability. He judiciously feigns, that Juno sent this Order to Achilles, for Juno is the Goddess of Royalty, who has the Care of Princes and Kings; and who inspires them with the Sense of what they owe to their Dignity and Character. Dacier.
Note XIX.
VERSE 237. Let but Achilles o’er yon’ Trench appear. ]
There cannot be a greater Instance, how constantly Homer carry’d his whole Design in his Head, as well as with what admirable Art he raises one great Idea upon another, to the highest Sublime, than this Passage of Achilles’s Appearance to the Army, and the Preparations by which we are led to it. In the thirteenth Book, when the Trojans have the Victory, they check their Pursuit of it, in the mere Thought that Achilles sees them: In the sixteenth, they are put into the utmost Consternation at the sight of his Armour and Chariot: In the seventeenth, Menelaus and Ajax are in Despair, on the Consideration that Achilles cannot succour them for want of Armour: In the present Book, beyond all Expectation he does but shew him unarm’d, and the very Sight of him gives the Victory to Greece: How extremely noble is this Gradation!
Note XX.
VERSE 245. The Smokes high-curling. ]
For Fires in the Day appear nothing but Smoak, and in the Night Flames are visible because of the Darkness. And thus it is said in Exodus, That God led his People in the Day with a Pillar of Smoak, and in the Night with a Pillar of Fire. Per Diem in Columna nubis, & per Noctem in Columna ignis. Dacier.
Note XXI.
VERSE 247. Seen from some Island. ]
Homer makes choice of a Town placed in an Island, because such a Place being besieg’d has no other Means of making its Distress known than by Signals of Fire; whereas a Town upon the Continent has other Means to make known to its Neighbours the Necessity it is in. Dacier.
Note XXII.
VERSE 259. As the loud Trumpets, &c.]
I have already observ’d, that when the Poet speaks as from himself, he may be allow’d to take his Comparisons from things which were not known before his Time. Here he borrows a Comparison from the Trumpet, as he has elsewhere done from Saddle-Horses, tho’ neither one nor the other were us’d in Greece at the time of the Trojan War. Virgil was less exact in this respect, for he describes the Trumpet as used in the sacking of Troy,
Exoritur clamorque virûm clangorque tubarum.
And celebrates Misenus as the Trumpeter of Aeneas. But as Virgil wrote at a time more remote from those heroic Ages, perhaps this Liberty may be excused. But a Poet had better confine himself to Customs and Manners, like a Painter; and it is equally a Fault in either of them to ascribe to Times and Nations any thing with which they were unacquainted.
One may add an Oservation to this Note of M. Dacier, that the Trumpet’s not being in use at that time, makes very much for Homer’s Purpose in this Place. The Terror rais’d by the Voice of his Hero, is much the more strongly imag’d by a Sound that was unusual, and capable of striking more from its very Novelty.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 315. If but the Morrow’s Sun, &c.]
Polydamas says in the Original,
"If Achilles comes to morrow in his Armour.
There seems to lye an Objection against this Passage, for Polydamas knew that Achilles’s Armour was won by Hector, he must also know that no other Man’s Armour would fit him; how then could he know that new Arms were made for him that very Night? Those who are resolv’d to defend Homer, may answer, it was by his Skill in Prophecy; but to me, this seems to be a Slip of our Author’s Memory, and one of those little Nods which Horace speaks of.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 333. The Speech of Hector.]
Hector in this severe Answer to Polydamas, takes up several of his Words and turns them another way.
Polydamas had said [Greek],
"To Morrow by break of Day let us put on our Arms, and defend the Castles and City-Walls,"
to which Hector replies, [Greek]
"To Morrow by break of Day let us put on our Arms, not to defend our selves at home, but to fight the Greeks before their own Ships.
Polydamas, speaking of Achilles, had said [Greek], &c.
"if he comes after we are within the Walls of our City, ’twill be the worse for him, for he may drive round the City long enough before he can hurt us."
To which, Hector answers;
"If Achilles should come [Greek], &c. ’Twill be "the worse for him, as you say, because I’ll fight him: [Greek], says Hector, in reply to Polydamas’s Saying, [Greek].
But Hector is not so far gone in Passion or Pride, as to forget himself; and accordingly in the next Lines he modestly puts it in doubt, which of them shall conquer. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 340. Sunk were her Treasures, and her Stores decay’d. ]
As well by reason of the Convoys, which were necessarily to be sent for with ready Money; as by reason of the great Allowances which were to be given to the auxiliary Troops, who came from Phrygia and Maeonia. Hector’s Meaning is, that since all the Riches of Troy are exhausted, it is no longer necessary to spare themselves, or shut themselves up within their Walls. Dacier.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 349. If there be one, &c,]
This noble and generous Proposal is worthy of Hector, and at the same time very artful to ingratiate himself with the Soldiers. Eustathius farther observes that it is said with an Eye to Polydamas, as accusing him of being rich, and of not opening the Advice he had given, for any other End than to preserve his great Wealth; for Riches commonly make Men Cowards, and the Desire of saving them has often occasion’d Men to give Advice very contrary to the publick Welfare.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 379. In what vain Promise. ]
The Lamentation of Achilles over the Body of Patroclus is exquisitely touch’d: It is Sorrow in the extreme, but the Sorrow of Achilles. It is nobly usher’d in by that Simile of the Grief of the Lion: An Idea which is fully answer’d in the savage and bloody Conclusion of this Speech. One would think by the Beginning of it, that Achilles did not know his Fate, till after his Departure from Opuntium; and yet how does that agree with what is said of his Choice of the short and active Life, rather than the long and inglorious one? Or did not he flatter himself sometimes, that his Fate might be changed? This may be conjectur’d from several other Passages, and is indeed the most natural Solution.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 404. Cleanse the pale Corse, &c.]
This Custom of washing the Dead, is continu’d amongst the Greeks to this Day; and ’tis a pious Duty perform’d by the dearest Friend or Relation, to see it wash’d and anointed with a Perfume, after which they cover it with Linen exactly in the manner here related.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 417. Jupiter and Juno.]
Virgil has coppy’d the Speech of Juno to Jupiter. Ast ego quae divûm incedo Regina, &c. But it is exceeding remarkable, that Homer should upon every Occasion make Marriage and Discord inseperable: ’Tis an unalterable Rule with him, to introduce the Husband and Wife in a Quarrel.
Note XXX.
VERSE 440. Full twenty Tripods. ]
Tripods were Vessels supported on three Feet, with Handles on the Sides; they were of several Kinds, and for several Uses; some were consecrated to Sacrifices, some used as Tables, some as Seats, others hung up as Ornaments on Walls of Houses or Temples; these of Vulcan have an Addition of Wheels, which was not usual, which intimates them to be made with Clockwork. Mons. Dacier has commented very well on this Passage. If Vulcan (says he) had made ordinary Tripods, they had not answer’d the Greatness, Power, and Skill of a God. It was therefore necessary that his Work should be above that of Men: To effect this, the Tripods were animated, and in this Homer doth not deviate from the Probability; for every one is fully persuaded, that a God can do things more difficult than these, and that all Matter will obey him. What has not been said of the Statues of Daedalus? Plato writes, that they walked alone, and if they had not taken care to tie them, they would have got loose, and run from their Master. If a Writer in Prose can speak hyperbollically of a Man, may not Homer do it much more of a God? Nay, this Circumstance with which Homer has embellish’d his Poem, would have had nothing too surprizing tho’ these Tripods had been made by a Man; for what may not be done in Clock-work by an exact Management of Springs?
This Criticism is then ill grounded, and Homer does not deserve the Ridicule they would cast on him.
The same Author applies to this Passage of Homer that Rule of Aristotle, Poetic. Chap. 26. which deserves to be alledged at large on this Occasion.
"When a Poet is accus’d of saying any thing that is impossible; we must examine that Impossibility, either with respect to Poetry, with respect to that which is best, or with respect to common Fame. First, with regard to Poetry, The Probable Impossible ought to be preferr’d to the Possible, which bath no Verisimilitude, and which would not be believ’d; and ’tis thus that Zeuxis painted his Pieces. Secondly, with respect to that which is best, We see that a thing is most excellent and more wonderful this way, and that the Originals ought always to surpass. Lastly, in respect to Fame, It is prov’d that the Poet need only follow common Opinion. All that appears absurd may be also justify’d by one of these three ways; or else by the Maxim we have already laid down, that it is probable, that a great many things may happen against Probability."
A late Critick has taken notice of the Conformity of this Passage of Homer with that in the first Chapter of Ezekiel, The Spirit of the living Creatures was in the Wheels; when those went, these went, and when those stood, these stood; and when those were listed up, the Wheels were lifted up over against them; for the Spirit of the living Creature was in the Wheels.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 450. A Footstool at her Feet. ]
It is at this Day the usual Honour paid amongst the Greeks, to a Visiter of supeperior Quality, to set them higher than the rest of the Company, and put a Footstool under their Feet. See Note 25. on Book 14. This, with innumerable other Customs, are still preserv’d in the Eastern Nations.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 460. Vulcan draw near, ’tis Thetis asks your Aid. ]
The Story the Ancients tell, of Plato’s Application of this Verse is worth observing. That great Philosopher had in his Youth a strong Inclination to Poetry, and not being satisfy’d to compose little Pieces of Gallantry and Amour, he tried his Forces in Tragedy and Epic Poetry; but the Success was not answerable to his Hopes: He compared his Performance with that of Homer, and was very sensible of the Difference. He therefore abandon’d a sort of Writing wherein at best he could only be the second, and turn’d his Views to an other, wherein he despaired not to become the first. His Anger transported him so far, as to cast all his Verses into the Fire. But while he was burning them, he could not help citing a Verse of the very Poet who had caus’d his Chagrin. It was the present Line, which Homer has put into the Mouth of Charis, when Thetis demands Arms for Achilles.
[Greek]
Plato only inserted his own Name instead of that of Thetis.
Vulcan draw near, ’tis Plato asks your Aid.
If we credit the Ancients, it was the Discontentment his own Poetry gave him, that rais’d in him all the Indignation he afterwards express’d against the Art itself. In which (say they) he behaved like those Lovers, who speak ill of the Beauties whom they cannot prevail upon. Fraguier, Parall. de Hom. & de Platon.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 461. Thetis (reply’d the God) our Pow’rs may claim, &c.
Vulcan throws by his Work to perform Thetis’s Request, who had laid former Obligations upon him; the Poet in this Example giving us an excellent Precept, that Gratitude should take place of all other Concerns.
The Motives which should engage a God in a new Travel in the Night-time upon a Suit of Armour for a Mortal, ought to be strong; and therefore artfully enough put upon the foot of Gratitude: Besides, they afford at the same time a noble Occasion for Homer to retail his Theology, which he is always very fond of.
The Allegory of Vulcan, or Fire (according to Heraclides ) is this. His Father is Jupiter, or the Aether, his Mother Juno, or the Air, from whence he fell to us, whether by Lightning, or otherwise. He is said to be lame, that is, to want Support, because he cannot subsist without the continual Subsistance of Fuel. The Aetherial Fire, Homer calls Sol or Jupiter, the inferior Vulcan; the one wants nothing of Perfection, the other is subject to Decay, and is restor’d by Accession of Materials. Vulcan is said to fall from Heaven, because at first, when the Opportunity of obtaining Fire was not so frequent, Men prepared Instruments of Brass, by which they collected the Beams of the Sun; or else they gain’d it from accidental Lightning, that set fire to some combustible Matter. Vulcan had perish’d when he fell from Heaven unless Thetis and Eurynome had received him; that is, unless he had been preserv’d by falling into some convenient Receptacle, or subterranean Place; and so was afterwards distributed for the common Necessities of Mankind. To understand these strange Explications, it must be known, that Thetis is deriv’d from [Greek]to lay up, and Eurynome from [Greek]and [Greek], a wide Distribution. They are call’d Daughters of the Ocean, because the Vapours and Exhalations of the Sea forming themselves into Clouds, find Nourishment for Lightnings.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 488. Two semale Forms, That mov’d and breath’d in animated Gold. ]
It is very probable, that Homer took the Idea of these from the Statues of Daedalus, which might be extant in his Time.
The Ancients tell us, they were made to imitate Life, in rolling their Eyes, and in all other Motions. From whence indeed it should seem, that the Excellency of Daedalus consisted in what we call Clock-work, or the Management of moving Figures by Springs, rather than in Sculpture or Imagery: And accordingly, the Fable of his fitting Wings to himself and his Son, is form’d entirely upon the Foundation of the former.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 518. Robb’d of the Prize, &c.]
Thetis to compass her Design, recounts every thing to the Advantage of her Son; she therefore suppresses the Episode of the Embassy, the Prayers that had been made use of to move him, and all that the Greeks had suffer’d after the Return of the Ambassadors; and artfully puts together two very distant things, as if they had follow’d each other in the same Moment. He declin’d, says she, to succour the Greeks, but he sent Patroclus. Now between his refusing to help the Greeks, and his sending Patroclus, terrible things had fallen out; but she suppresses them, for fear of offending Vulcan with the recital of Achilles’s inflexible Obduracy, and thereby create in that God an Aversion to her Son. Eustathius.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 526. Then slain by Phoebus (Hector had the Name )
It is a Passage worth taking notice of, that Brutus is said to have consulted the Sortes Homericae, and to have drawn one of these Lines, wherein the Death of Patroclus is ascribed to Apollo: After which, unthinkingly, he gave the Name of that God for the Word of Battel. This is remarked as an unfortunate Omen by some of the Ancients, tho’ I forget where I met with it.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 537. The Father of the Fires, &c.]
The Ancients (says Eustathius ) have largely celebrated the philosophical Mysteries which they imagined to be shadowed under these Descriptions, especially Damo (suppos’d the Daughter of Pythagoras ) whose Explication is as follows. Thetis, who receives the Arms, means the apt Order and Disposition of all things in the Creation. By the Fire and the Wind rais’d by the Bellows, are meant Air and Fire the most active of all the Elements. The Emanations of the Fire are those golden Maids, that waited on Vulcan. The circular Shield is the World, being of a sphaerical Figure. The Gold, the Brass, the Silver, and the Tin are the Elements: Gold is Fire, the firm Brass is Earth, the Silver is Air, and the soft Tin, Water. And thus far (say they) Homer speaks a little obscurely, but afterwards he names ’em expressly, [Greek], to which, for the fourth Element, you must add Vulcan, who makes the Shield. The extreme Circle that run round the Shield which he calls splendid and threefold, is the Zodiack; threefold for its Breadth, within which all the Planets move; splendid, because the Sun passes always thro’ the midst of it. The silver Handle by which the Shield is fastened at both Extremities, is the Axis of the World, imagin’d to pass thro it, and upon which it turns. The five folds are those parallel Circles that divide the World, the Polar, the Tropicks, and the Aequator. Heraclides Ponticus thus pursues the Allegory. Homer (says he) makes the working of his Shield, that is the World, to be begun by Night, as indeed all Matter lay undistinguish’d in an original and universal Night; which is called Chaos by the Poets.
To bring the matter of the Shield to Separation and Form, Vulcan presides over the Work, or as we may say, an essential Warmth: All things, says Heraclitus, being made by the Operation of Fire. And because the Architect is at this time to give a Form and Ornament to the World he is making, it is not rashly that he is said to be married to one of the Graces.
On the broad Shield the Maker’s Hand engraves The Earth and Seas beneath, the Pole above, The Sun unwearied, and the circled Moon.
Thus in the Beginning of the World, he first lays the Earth as the Foundation of a Building, whose Vacancies are fill’d up with the Flowings of the Sea. Then he spreads out the Sky for a kind of divine Roof over it, and lights the Elements, now separated from their former Confusion, with the Sun, the Moon,
And all those Stars that crown the Skies with Fire:
Where, by the Word crown, which gives the Idea of Roundness, he again hints at the Figure of the World; and tho’ he cou’d not particularly name the Stars like Aratus (who profess’d to write upon them) yet he has not omitted to mention the principal. From hence he passes to represent two Allegorical Cities, one of Peace, the other of War; Empedocles seems to have taken from Homer his Assertion, that all Things had their Original from Strife and Friendship. All these Refinements (not to call ’em absolute Whimsies) I leave just as I found ’em, to the Reader’s Judgment or Mercy.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 566. Nor bends his blazing Forehead to the Main. ]
The Criticks have made use of this Passage, to prove that Homer was ignorant of Astronomy; since he believ’d, that the Bear was the only Constellation which never bathed itself in the Ocean, that is to say that did not set, and was always visible; for say they, this is common to other Constellations of the Artick Circle, as the lesser Bear, the Dragon, the greatest part of Cepheus, &c. To salve Homer, Aristotle answers, That he calls it the only one, to shew that ’tis the only one of those Constellations he had spoken of, or that he has put the only, for the principal or the most known. Strabo justifies this after another manner, in the Beginning of his first Book,
"Under the Name of the Bear and the Chariot, Homer comprehends all the Artick Circle; for there being several other Stars in that Circle which never set, he could not say, that the Bear was the only
one which did not bath itself in the Ocean; wherefore those are deceived, who accuse the Poet of Ignorance, as if he knew one Bear only when there are two; for the lesser was not found out in his Time. The Phoenicians were the first who observ’d it and made use of it in their Navigation; and the Figure of that Sign passed from them to the Greeks: The same thing happen’d in regard to the Constellation of Berenice’s Hair, and that of Canopus, which receiv’d those Names very lately; and as Aratus says well, there are several other Stars which have no Names. Crates was then in the wrong to endeavour to correct this Passage, in putting [Greek]for [Greek], for he tries to avoid that which there is no occasion to avoid. Heraclitus did better, who put the Bear for the Artick Circle as Homer has done. The Bear (says he) is the Limit of the rising and setting of the Stars. "
Now it is the Artic Circle, and not the Bear which is that Limit.
"’Tis therefore evident, that by the Word Bear, which he calls the Waggon, and which he says observes Orion, he understands the Artick Circle; that by the Ocean he means the Horizon where the Stars rise and set; and by those Words, which turns in the same place, and doth not bath itself in the Ocean, he shews that the Artick Circle is the most Northern Part of the Horizon, &c.
Dacier on Arist. Mons. Terasson combates this Passage with great Warmth. But it will be a sufficient Vindication of our Author to say, that some other Constellations, which are likewise perpetually above the Horizon in the Latitude where Homer writ, were not at that time discovered; and that whether Homer knew that the Bear’s not setting was occasion’d by the Latitude, and that in a smaller Latitude it would set, is of no consequence; for if he had known it, it was still more poetical not to take notice of it.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 467. Two Cities, &c.]
In one of these Cities are represented all the Advantages of Peace: And it was impossible to have chosen two better Emblems of Peace, than Marriages and Justice. ’Tis said this City was Athens, for Marriages were first instituted there by Cecrops; and Judgment upon Murder was first founded there. The ancient State of Attica seems represented in the neighbouring Fields, where the Ploughers and Reapers are at work, and a King is overlooking them; for Triptolemus who reigned there, was the first who sowed Corn: This was the Imagination of Agallias Cercyreus, as we find him cited by Eustathius.
Note XL.
VERSE 579. The Fine discharg’d. ]
Murder was not always punish’d with Death, or so much as Banishment; but when some Fine was paid, the Criminal was suffer’d to remain in the City. So Iliad 9.
— [Greek]
—If a Brother bleed, On just Atonement, we remit the Deed; A Sire the Slaughter of his Son forgives, The Price of Blood discharg’d, the Murd’rer lives.
Note XLI.
VERSE 590. The Prize of him who best adjudg’d the Right. ]
Eustathius informs us, that it was anciently the Custom to have a Reward given to that Judge who pronounced the best Sentence. M. Dacier opposes this Authority, and will have it, that this Reward was given to the Person who upon the Decision of the Suit appear’d to have the justest Cause. The Difference between these two Customs, in the Reason of the thing, is very great: For the one must have been an Encouragement to Justice, the other a Provocation to Dissension.
It were to be wanting in a due Reverence to the Wisdom of the Ancients, and of Homer in particular, not to chuse the former Sense: And I have the Honour to be confirmed in this Opinion, by the ablest Judge, as well as the best Practiser, of Equity, my Lord Harcourt, at whose Seat I translated this Book.
Note XLII.
VERSE 591. Another Part (a Prospect diff’rent far, &c.]
The same Agallias, cited above, would have this City in War to be meant of Eleusina, but upon very slight Reasons. What is wonderful is, that all the Accidents and Events of War are set before our Eyes in this short Compass. The several Scenes are excellently dispos’d to represent the whole Affair. Here is in the space of thirty Lines a Siege, a Sally, an Ambush, the Surprize of a Convoy, and a Battel; with scarce a single Circumstance proper to any of these, omitted.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 627. A Field deep-furrow’d, &c.]
Here begin the Descriptions of rural Life, in which Homer appears as great a Master as in the great and terrible Parts of Poetry. One wou’d think, he did this on purpose to rival his Contemporary Hesiod, on those very Subjects to which his Genius was particularly bent. Upon this Occasion, I must take notice of that Greek Poem, which is commonly ascribed to Hesiod under the Title of [Greek]. Some of the Ancients mention such a Work as Hesiod’s, but that amounts to no Proof that this is the same: Which indeed is not an express Poem upon the Shield of Hercules, but Fragment of the Story of that Hero. What regards the Shield is a manifest Copy from this of Achilles; and consequently it is not of Hesiod. For if he was not more Ancient, he was at least Contemporary with Homer: And neither of them could be supposed to borrow so shamelesly from the other, not only the Plan of entire Descriptions, (as those of the Marriage, the Harvest, the Vineyard, the Ocean round the Margin, &c. ) but also whole Verses together: Those of the Parca in the Battel, are repeated Word for Word,
— [Greek]
And indeed half the Poem is but a sort of Cento compos’d out of Homer’s Verses. The Reader needs only cast an Eye on these two Descriptions, to see the vast Difference of the Original and the Copy; and I dare say he will readily agree with the Sentiment of Monsieur Dacier, in applying to them that famous Verse of Sannazarius,
Illum hominem dices, hunc posuisse Deum.
Note XLIV.
VERSE id. ] I ought not to forget the many apparent Allusions to the Descriptions on this Shield, which are to be found in those Pictures of Peace and War, the City and Countrey, in the eleventh Book of Milton: Who was doubtless fond of any Occasion to shew, how much he was charm’d with the Beauty of all these lively Images. He makes his Angel paint those Objects which he shews to Adam, in the Colours, and almost the very Strokes of Homer. Such is that Passage of the Harvest-field,
His Eye he open’d, and beheld a Field Part Arable and Tilth, whereon were Sheaves New-reap’d; the other Part Sheep-walks and Folds. In midst an Altar, as the Landmark, stood, Rustic, of grassy sord, &c.
That of the Marriages,
They light the nuptial Torch, and bid invoke Hymen (then first to marriage Rites invok’d) With Feast and Musick all the Tents resound.
But more particularly, the following Lines are in a manner a Translation of our Author.
One way, a Band select from Forage drives A Herd of Beeves, fair Oxen, and fair Kine From a fat Meadow-ground; or fleecy Flock, Ewes and their bleating Lambs, across the Plain, Their Booty: Scarce with Life the Shepherds fly, But call in Aid, which makes a bloody Fray, With cruel Tournament the Squadrons join Where Cattel pastur’d late, now scatter’d lies With Carcasses and Arms th’ensanguin’d Field Deserted.—Others to a City strong Lay siege, encamp’d; by Battery, Scale, and Mine Assaulting; others from the Wall defend With Dart and Jav’lin, Stones, and sulph’rous Fire: On each hand Slaughter and gigantic Deeds. In other part, the scepter’d Heralds call To Council in the City Gates: anon Grey-headed Men and grave, with Warriors mixt, Assemble, and Harangues are heard—
Note XLV.
VERSE 645. The rustic Monarch of the Field. ]
Dacier takes this to be a piece of Ground given to a Hero in reward of his Services. It was in no respect unworthy such a Person, in those Days, to see his Harvest got in, and to overlook his Reapers: It is very conformable to the Manners of the ancient Patriarchs, such as they are describ’d to us in the Holy Scriptures.
Note XLVI.
VERLE 662. The Fate of Linus.]
There are two Interpretations of this Verse in the Original: That which I have chosen is confirm’d by the Testimony of Herodotus lib. 2. and Pausanias, Boeoticis. Linus was the most ancient Name in Poetry, the first upon Record who invented Verse and Measure among the Grecians: He past for the Son of Apollo or Mercury, and was Praeceptor to Hercules, Thamyris, and Orpheus. There was a solemn Custom among the Greeks of bewailing annually the Death of their first Poet: Pausanias informs us, that before the yearly Sacrifice to the Muses on Mount Helicon, the Obsequies of Linus were perform’d, who had a Statue and Altar erected to him, in that Place. Homer alludes to that Custom in this Passage, and was doubtless fond of paying this Respect to the old Father of Poetry. Virgil has done the same in that Fine Celebration of him, Eclog. 6.
Tum canit errantem Permessi ad flumina Gallum, Utque viro Phoebi chorus assurrexerit omnis; Ut Linus haec illi, divino carmine, pastor (Floribus atque apio crines ornatus amaro) Dixerit— &c.
And again in the fourth Eclog.
Non me carminibus vincet nec Thracius Orpheus, Nec Linus; huic Mater, quamvis at{que} huic Pater adsit, Orpheo Calliopea, Lino formosus Apollo.
Note XLVII.
VERSE 681. A figur’d Dance. ]
There were two sorts of Dances, the Pyrrhick, and the common Dance: Homer has joyn’d both in this Description. We see the Pyrrhick, or Military, is perform’d by the Youths who have Swords on, the other by the Virgins crown’d with Garlands.
Here the ancient Scholiasts say, that whereas before it was the Custom for Men and Women to dance separately, the contrary Practice was afterwards brought in, by seven Youths, and as many Virgins, who were sav’d by Theseus from the Labyrinth; and that this Dance was taught them by Daedalus: To which Homer here alludes. See Dion. Halic. Hist. l. 7. c. 68.
It is worth observing that the Grecian Dance is still perform’d in this manner in the Oriental Nations: The Youths and Maids dance in a Ring, beginning slowly; by Degrees the Musick plays a quicker time, till at last they dance with the utmost Swiftness: And towards the Conclusion, they sing (as it is said here) in a general Chorus.
Note OBSERVATIONS ON THE SHIELD of ACHILLES.
OBSERVATIONS ON THE SHIELD of ACHILLES. THE Poet intending to shew in its full Lustre, his Genius for Description, makes choice of this Interval from Action and the Leisure of the Night, to display that Talent at large in the famous Buckler of Achilles. His Intention was no less, than to draw the Picture of the whole World in the Compass of this Shield. We first see the Universe in general; the Heavens are spread, the Stars are hung up, the Earth is stretched forth, the Seas are pour’d round: We next see the World in a nearer and more particular view; the Cities, delightful in Peace, or formidable in War; the Labours of the Countrey, and the Fruit of those Labours, in the Harvests and the Vintages; the Pastoral Life in its Pleasures and its Dangers: In a word, all the Occupations, all the Ambitions, and all the Diversions of Mankind. This noble and comprehensive Design he has executed in a manner that challeng’d the Admiration of all the Ancients: And how right an Idea they had of this grand Design, may be judg’d from that Verse of Ovid, Met. 13. where he calls it
—Clypeus vasti coelatus imagine mundi.
It is indeed astonishing how after this the Arrogance of some Moderns could unfortunately chuse the noblest Part of the noblest Poet for the Object of their blind Criticisms.
I design to give the Reader the Sum of what has been said on this Subject. First, a Reply to the loose and scatter’d Objections of the Criticks, by M. Dacier: Then the regular Plan and Distribution of the Shield, by Mons. Boivin: And lastly, I shall attempt what has not yet been done, to consider it as a Work of Painting, and prove it in all respects conformable to the most just Ideas and establish’d Rules of that Art.
I.
It is the Fate (says M. Dacier ) of these Arms of Achilles, to be still the Occasion of Quarrels and Disputes. Julius Scaliger was the first who appear’d against this Part, and was follow’d by a whole Herd. These object in the first place, that ’tis impossible to represent the Movement of the Figures; and in condemning the manner, they take the Liberty to condemn also the Subject, which they say is trivial, and not well understood. ’Tis certain that Homer speaks of the Figures on this Buckler, as if they were alive: And some of the Ancients taking his Expressions to the Strictness of the Letter, did really believe that they had all sorts of Motion. Eustathius shewed the Absurdity of that Sentiment by a Passage of Homer himself,
"That Poet, says he, to shew that his Figures are not animated, as some have pretended by an excessive Affection for the Prodigious, took care to say that they moved and fought, as if they were living Men. "
The Ancients certainly founded this ridiculous Opinion on a Rule of Aristotle: For they thought the Poet could not make his Description more admirable and marvellous, than in making his Figures animated, since (as Aristotle says) the Original should always excel the Copy. That Shield is the Work of a God: ’Tis the Original, of which the Engraving and Painting of Men is but an imperfect Copy; and there is nothing impossible to the Gods. But they did not perceive, that by this Homer would have fallen into an extravagant Admirable which would not have been probable. Therefore, ’tis without any Necessity Eustathius adds,
"That ’tis possible all those Figures did not stick close to the Shield, but that they were detach’d from it, and mov’d by Springs, in such a manner that they appear’d to have Motion; as Aeschylus has feign’d something like it, in his seven Captains against Thebes."
But without having recourse to that C0onjecture, we can shew that there is nothing more simple and natural than the Description of that Shield, and there is not one Word which Homer might not have said of it, if it had been the Work of a Man; for there is a great deal of difference between the Work itself, and the Description of it.
Let us examine the Particulars for which they blame Homer. They say he describes two Towns on his Shield which speak different Languages. ’Tis the Latin Translation, and not Homer, that says so; the Word [Greek], is a common Epithet of Men, and which signifies only, that they have an articulate Voice. These Towns could not speak different Languages, since, as the Ancients have remarked, they were Athens and Eleusina, both which spake the same Language. But tho’ that Epithet should signify, which spake different Languages, there would be nothing very surprizing; for Virgil said what Homer it seems must not:
Victae longo ordine gentes, Quam variae linguis.— Aen. 8.
If a Painter should put into a Picture one Town of France and another of Flanders, might not one say they were two Towns which spake different Languages?
Homer (they tell us) says in another place; that we hear the Harangues of two Pleaders. This is an unfair Exaggeration: He only says, Two Men pleaded, that is, were represented pleading. Was not the same said by Pliny of Nicomachus, that he had painted two Greeks, which spake one after another? Can we express ourselves otherwise of these two Arts, which tho’ they are mute, yet have a Language?
Or in explaining a Painting of Raphael or Poussin, can we prevent animating the Figures, in making them speak conformably to the Design of the Painter? But how could the Engraver represent those young Shepherds and Virgins that dance first in a Ring, and then in Setts? Or those Troops which were in Ambuscade? This would be difficult indeed if the Workman had not the Liberty to make his Persons appear in different Circumstances. All the Objections against the young Man who sings at the same time that he plays on the Harp, the Bull that roars whilst he is devoured by a Lion, and against the musical Consorts, are childish; for we can never speak of Painting if we banish those Expressions. Pliny says of Apelles, that he painted Clytus on Horseback going to Battel, and demanding his Helmet of his Squire: Of Aristides, that he drew a Beggar whom we could almost understand, pene cum voce: Of Ctesilochus, that he had painted Jupiter bringing forth Bacchus, and crying out like a Woman, & muliebriter ingemiscentem: And of Nicearchus, that he had drawn a Piece, in which Hercules was seen very melancholy for having been a Fool, Herculem tristem, Insaniae poenitentiâ. No one sure will condemn those ways of Expression which are so common. The same Author has said much more of Apelles, he tells us, he painted those things which could not be painted, as Thunder; Pinxit quae pingi non possunt: And of Timanthus, that in all his Works there was something more understood than was seen; and tho’ there was all the Art imaginable, yet there was still more Ingenuity than Art: Atque in omnibus ejus operibus, intelligitur plus semper quàm pingitur; & cùm Ars summa sit, Ingenium tamen ultra Artem est. If we take the pains to compare these Expressions with those of Homer, we shall find him altogether excusable in his Manner of describing the Buckler.
We come now to the Matter. If this Shield (says a modern Critick) had been made in a wiser Age, it would have been more correct and less charg’d with Objects. There are two things which cause the Censurers to fall into this false Criticism: The first is, that they think the Shield was no broader than the brims of a Hat, whereas it was large enough to cover a whole Man. The other is, that they did not know the Design of the Poet, and imagined this Description was only the Whimsy of an irregular Wit, who did it by chance, and not following Nature; for they never so much as enter’d into the Intention of the Poet, nor knew the Shield was design’d as a Representation of the Universe.
’Tis happy that Virgil has made a Buckler for Aeneas, as well as Homer for Achilles. The Latin Poet, who imitated the Greek one, always took care to accommodate those things which Time had chang’d, so as to render them agreeable to the Palate of his Readers; yet he hath not only charg’d his Shield with a great deal more Work, since he paints all the Actions of the Romans from Ascanius to Augustus; but has not avoided any of those manners of Expression which offend the Criticks. We see there the Wolf of Romulus and Remus, who gives them her Dugs one after another, Mulcere alternos, & Corpora fingere Linguâ: The Rape of the Sabines and the War which follow’d it, subitoque novum consurgere Bellum: Metius torn by four Horses, and Tullus who draws his Entrails thro’ the Forest: Porsenna commanding the Romans to receive Tarquin, and besieging Rome: The Geese flying to the Porches of the Capitol, and giving notice by their Cries of the Attack of the Gauls.
At{que} hic auratis volitans argenteus Anser, Porticibus, Gallos in Limine adesse canebat.
We see the Salian Dance, Hell, and the Pains of the Damn’d; and farther off, the Place of the Blessed, where Cato presides: We see the famous Battel of Actium, where we may distinguish the Captains: Agrippa with the Gods, and the Winds favourable; and Anthony leading on all the Forces of the East, Egypt, and the Bactrians: The Fight begins, The Sea is red with Blood, Cleopatra gives the Signal for a Retreat, and calls her Troops with a Systrum. Patrio vocat agmina Systro. The Gods, or rather the Monsters of Egypt, fight against Neptune, Venus, Minerva, Mars and Apollo: We see Anthony’s Fleet beaten, and the Nile sorrowfully opening his Bosom to receive the Conquer’d: Cleopatra looks pale and almost dead at the Thought of that Death she had already determined; nay we see the very Wind Iapis, which hastens her Flight: We see the three Triumphs of Augustus; that Prince consecrates three hundred Temples, the Altars are fill’d with Ladies offering up Sacrifices, Augustus sitting at the Entrance of Apollo’s Temple, receives Presents, and hangs them on the Pillars of the Temple; while all the conquer’d Nations pass by, who speak different Languages, and are differently equipp’d and arm’d.
—Incedunt victae longo ordine Gentes, Quam variae Linguis, habitu tum vestis & armis.
Nothing can better justify Homer, or shew the Wisdom and Judgment of Virgil: He was charm’d with Achilles’s Shield, and therefore would give the same Ornament to his Poem. But as Homer had painted the Universe, he was sensible that nothing remain’d for him to do; he had no other way to take than that of Prophecy, and shew what the Descendant of his Hero should perform; and he was not afraid to go beyond Homer, because there is nothing improbable in the Hands of a God. If the Criticks say, that this is justifying one Fault by another; I desire they would agree among themselves; for Scaliger, who was the first that condemn’d Homer’s Shield, admires Virgil’s; but suppose they should agree, ’twould be foolish to endeavour to persuade us, that what Homer and Virgil have done by the Approbation of all Ages, is not good; and to make us think that their particular Taste should prevail over that of all other Men. Nothing is more ridiculous than to trouble one’s self to answer Men, who shew so little Reason in their Criticisms, that we can do them no greater Favour, than to ascribe it to their Ignorance.
Thus far the Objections are answer’d by Mons. Dacier. Since when, some others have been started, as that the Objects represented on the Buckler have no reference to the Poem, no Agreement with Thetis who procur’d it, Vuloan who made it, or Achilles for whom it was made.
To this it is reply’d, that the Representation of the Sea was agreeable enough to Thetis; that the Spheres and celestial Fires were so to Vulcan; (tho’ the truth is, any piece of Workmanship was equally fit to come from the Hands of this God) and that the Images of a Town besieg’d, a Battel, and an Ambuscade, were Objects sufficiently proper for Achilles. But after all, where was the Necessity that they should be so? They had at least been as fit for one Hero as for another; and Aeneas, as Virgil tells us, knew not what to make of the Figures on his Shield.
Rerumque Ignarus, imagine gaudet.
II.
But still the main Objection, and that in which the Vanity of the Moderns has triumph’d the most, is, that the Shield is crowded with such a Multiplicity of Figures, as could not possibly be represented in the Compass of it. The late Dissertation of Mons. Boivin has put an end to this Cavil, and the Reader will have the Pleasure to be convinced of it by ocular Demonstration, in the Print annexed.
This Author supposes the Buckler to have been perfectly round: He divides the convex Surface into four concentrick Circles.
The Circle next the Center contains the Globe of the Earth and the Sea, in miniature; He gives this Circle the Dimension of three Inches.
The second Circle is allotted for the Heavens and the Stars: He allows the Space of ten Inches between this, and the former Circle.
The third shall be eight Inches distant from the second. The Space between these two Circles shall be divided into twelve Compartiments, each of which makes a Picture of ten or eleven Inches deep.
The fourth Circle makes the Margin of the Buckler: And the Interval between this and the former, being of three Inches, is sufficient to represent the Waves and Currents of the Ocean.
All these together make but four Foot in the whole in Diameter. The Print of these Circles and Divisions will serve to prove, that the Figures will neither be crowded nor confused, if disposed in the proper Place and Order.
As to the Size and Figure of the Shield, it is evident from the Poets, that in the time of the Trojan War there were Shields of an extraordinary Magnitude. The Buckler of Ajax is often compar’d by Homer to a Tower, and in the sixth Iliad that of Hector is described to cover him from the Shoulders to the Ankles.
[Greek]℣. 117.
In the second Verse of the Description of this Buckler of Achilles, it is said that Vulcan cast round it a radiant Circle.
[Greek]℣. 479.
Which proves the Figure to have been round. But if it be alledg’d that [Greek]as well signifies oval as circular, it may be answer’d, that the circular Figure better agrees to the Spheres represented in the Center, and to the Course of the Ocean at the Circumference.
We may very well allow four Foot Diameter to this Buckler: As one may suppose a larger Size would have been too unwieldy, so a less would not have been sufficient to cover the Breast and Arm of a Man of a Stature so large as Achilles. In allowing four Foot Diameter to the whole each of the twelve Compartiments may be of ten or eleven Inches in Depth, which will be enough to contain, without any Confusion, all the Objects which Homer mentions. Indeed in this Print, each Compartiment being but of one Inch, the principal Figures only are represented; but the Reader may easily imagine the Advantage of nine or ten Inches more. However, if the Criticks are not yet satisfy’d there is room enough, it is but taking in the literal Sense the Words [Greek], with which Homer begins his Description, and the Buckler may be suppos’d engraven on both Sides, which Supposition will double the Size of each Piece: The one side may serve for the general Description of Heaven and Earth, and the other for all the Particulars.
III.
IT having been now shewn, that the Shield of Homer is blameless as to its Design and Disposition, and that the Subject (so extensive as it is) may be contracted within the due Limits; not being one vast unproportion’d Heap of Figures, but divided into twelve regular Compartiments. What remains, is to consider this Piece as a complete Idea of Painting, and a Sketch for what one may call an universal Picture. This is certainly the Light in which it is chiefly to be admired, and in which alone the Criticks have neglected to place it.
There is reason to believe that Homer did in this, as he has done in other Arts, (even in Mechanicks) that is, comprehend whatever was known of it in his Time; if not (as is highly probable) from thence extend his Ideas yet farther, and give a more enlarged Notion of it. Accordingly it is very observable, that there is scarce a Species or Branch of this Art which is not here to be found, whether History, Battel-Painting, Landskip, Architecture, Fruits, Flowers, Animals, &c. I think it possible that Painting was arrived to a greater Degree of Perfection, even at that early Period, than is generally supposed by those who have written upon it. Pliny expresly says, that it was not known in the time of the Trojan War. The same Author, and others, represent it in a very imperfect State in Greece, in, or near the Days of Homer. They tell us of one Painter, that he was the first who begun to shadow; and of another, that he fill’d his Outlines only with a single Colour, and that laid on every where alike: But we may have a higher Notion of the Art, from those Descriptions of Statues, Carvings, Tapestrys, Sculptures upon Armour, and Ornaments of all kinds, which every where occur in our Author; as well as from what he says of their Beauty, the Relievo, and their Emulation of Life itself. If we consider how much it is his constant Practice to confine himself to the Custom of the Times whereof he writ, it will be hard to doubt but that Painting and Sculpture must have been then in great Practice and Repute.
The Shield is not only describ’d as a Piece of Sculpture but of Painting; the Outlines may be suppos’d engraved, and the rest enamel’d, or inlaid with various-colour’d Metals. The Variety of Colours is plainly distinguish’d by Homer, where he speaks of the Blackness of the new-open’d Earth, of the several Colours of the Grapes and Vines; and in other Places. The different Metals that Vulcan is feign’d to cast into the Furnace, were sufficient to afford all the necessary Colours: But if to those which are natural to the Metals, we add also those which they are capable of receiving from the Operation of Fire, we shall find, that Vulcan had as great a Variety of Colours to make use of as any modern Painter. That Enamelling, or fixing Colours by Fire, was practised very anciently, may be conjectur’d from what Diodorus reports of one of the Walls of Babylon, built by Semiramis, that the Bricks of it were painted before they were burn’d, so as to represent all sorts of Animals. lib. 2. chap. 4. Now it is but natural to infer, that Men had made use of ordinary Colours for the Representation of Objects, before they learnt to represent them by such as are given by the Operation of Fire; one being much more easy and obvious than the other, and that sort of Painting by means of Fire being but an Imitation of the Painting with a Pencil and Colours. The same Inference will be farther enforc’d from the Works of Tapestry, which the Women of those Times interweaved with many Colours; as appears from the Description of that Veil which Hecuba offers to Minerva in the sixth Iliad, and from a Passage in the twenty second where Andromache is represented working Flowers in a Piece of this kind. They must certainly have known the Use of the Colours themselves for Painting, before they could think of dying Threads with those Colours, and weaving those Threads close to one another, in order only to a more laborious Imitation of a thing so much more easily perform’d by a Pencil. This Observation I owe to the Abbè Fraguier. It may indeed be thought, that a Genius so vast and comprehensive as that of Homer might carry his Views beyond the rest of Mankind, and that in this Buckler of Achilles he rather design’d to give a Scheme of what might be perform’d, than a Description of what really was so: And since he made a God the Artist, he might excuse himself from a strict Confinement to what was known and practised in the Time of the Trojan War. Let this be as it will, it is certain that he had, whether by Learning, or by Strength of Genius, (tho’ the latter be more glorious for Homer ) a full and exact Idea of Painting in all its Parts; that is to say, in the Invention, the Composition, the Expression, &c.
The Invention is shewn in finding and introducing, in every Subject, the greatest, the most significant, and most suitable Objects. Accordingly in every single Picture of the Shield, Homer constantly finds out either those Objects which are naturally the Principal, those which most conduce to shew the Subject, or those which set it in the liveliest and most agreeable Light: These he never fails to dispose in the most advantagious Manners, Situations, and Oppositions.
Next, we find all his Figures differently characterized, in their Expressions and Attitudes, according to their several Natures: The Gods (for instance) are distinguish’d in Air, Habit, and Proportion, from Men, in the fourth Picture; Masters from Servants, in the eighth; and so of the rest.
Nothing is more wonderful than his exact Observation of the Contrast, not only between Figure and Figure, but between Subject and Subject. The City in Peace is a Contrast to the City in War: Between the Siege in the fourth Picture, and the Battel in the sixth, a piece of Paisage is introduced, and rural Scenes follow after. The Country too is represented in War in the fifth, as well as in Peace in the seventh, eighth, and ninth. The very Animals are shewn in these two different States, in the tenth and the eleventh. Where the Subjects appear the same, he contrastes them some other way: Thus the first Picture of the Town in Peace having a predominant Air of Gaiety, in the Dances and Pomps of the Marriage; the second has a Character of Earnestness and Sollicitude, in the Dispute and Pleadings. In the Pieces of rural Life, that of the Plowing is of a different Character from the Harvest, and that of the Harvest from the Vintage. In each of these there is a Contrast of the Labour and Mirth of the country People: In the first, some are plowing, others taking a Cup of good Liquor; in the next, we see the Reapers working in one part, and the Banquet prepar’d in another; in the last, the Labour of the Vineyard is reliev’d with Musick and a Dance. The Persons are no less varied, Old and Young, Men and Women: There being Women in two Pictures together, namely the eighth and ninth, it is remarkable that those in the latter are of a different Character from the former; they who dress the Supper being ordinary Women, the others who carry Baskets in the Vineyard, young and beautiful Virgins: And these again are of an inferior Character to those in the twelfth Piece, who are distinguish’d as People of Condition by a more elegant Dress. There are three Dances in the Buckler; and these too are varied: That at the Wedding is in a circular Figure, that of the Vineyard in a Row, that in the last Picture, a mingled one. Lastly, there is a manifest Contrast in the Colours; nay, ev’n in the Back-Grounds of the several Pieces: For Example, that of the Plowing is of a dark Tinct, that of the Harvest yellow, that of the Pasture green, and the rest in like manner.
That he was not a Stranger to Aerial Perspective, appears in his expresly marking the Distance of Object from Object: He tells us, for instance, that the two Spies lay a little remote from the other Figures; and that the Oak under which was spread the Banquet of the Reapers, stood apart. What he says of the Valley sprinkled all over with Cottages and Flocks, appears to be a Description of a large Country in Perspective. And indeed a general Argument for this may be drawn from the Number of Figures on the Shield; which could not be all express’d in their full Magnitude: And this is therefore a sort of Proof that the Art of lessening them according to Perspective was known at that Time.
What the Criticks call the three Unities, ought in reason as much to be observed in a Picture as in a Play; each should have only one principal Action, one Instant of Time, and one Point of View. In this Method of Examination also, the Shield of Homer will bear the Test: He has been more exact than the greatest Painters, who have often deviated from one or other of these Rules; whereas (when we examine the detail of each Compartiment) it will appear, First, that there is but one principal Action in each Picture, and that no supernumerary Figures or Actions are introduced. This will answer all that has been said of the Confusion and Crowd of Figures on the Shield, by those who never comprehended the Plan of it.
Secondly, that no Action is represented in one Peice, which could not happen in the same Instant of Time. This will overthrow the Objection against so many different Actions appearing in one Shield; which, in this Case, is much as absurd as to object against so many of Raphael’s Cartons appearing in one Gallery.
Thirdly, It will be manifest that there are no Objects in any one Picture which could not be seen in one Point of View. Hereby the Abbè Terasson’s whole Criticism will fall to the Ground, which amounts but to this, that the general Objects of the Heavens, Stars and Sea, with the particular Prospects of Towns, Fields, &c. could never be seen all at once. Homer was incapable of so absurd a Thought, nor could these heavenly Bodies (had he intended them for a Picture) have ever been seen together from one Point; for the Constellations and the Full Moon, for example, could never be seen at once with the Sun. But the celestial Bodies were placed on the Boss, as the Ocean at the Margin of the Shield: These were no Parts of the Painting, but the former was only an Ornament to the Projection in the middle, and the latter a Frame round about it: In the same manner as the Divisions, Projections, or Angles of a Roof are left to be ornamented at the Discretion of the Painter, with Foliage, Architecture, Grotesque, or what he pleases: However his Judgment will be still more commendable, if he contrives to make even these extrinsical Parts, to bear some Allusion to the main Design: It is this which Homer has done, in placing a sort of Sphere in the middle, and the Ocean at the Border, of a Work, which was expressly intended to represent the Universe.
I proceed now to the Detail of the Shield; in which the Words of Homer being first translated, an Attempt will be made to shew with what exact Order all that he describes may enter into the Composition, according to the Rules of Painting.
THE SHIELD of ACHILLES Divided into its several Parts. The BOSS of the SHIELD.
VERSE 483. [Greek], &c. ]
Here Vulcan represented the Earth, the Heaven, the Sea, the indefatigable Course of the Sun, the Moon in her full, all the celestial Signs that crown Olympus, the Pleiades, the Hyades, the great Orion, and the Bear, commonly call’d the Wain, the only Constellation which never bathing itself in the Ocean, turns about the Pole, and observes the Course of Orion.
The Sculpture of these resembled somewhat of our terrestrial and celestial Globes, and took up the Center of the Shield: ’Tis plain by the huddle in which Homer expresses this, that he did not describe it as a Picture for a point of Sight.
The Circumference is divided into twelve Compartiments, each being a separate Picture: As follow, First Compartiment A Town in Peace,
[Greek], &c. ]
He engraved two Cities; in one of them were represented Nuptials and Festivals. The Spouses from their bridal Chambers, were conducted thro’ the Town by the Light of Torches. Every Mouth sung the Hymeneal Song: The Youths turn’d rapidly about in a circular Dance: The Flute and the Lyre resounded: The Women, every one in the Street, standing in the Porches, beheld and admired. In this Picture, the Brides preceded by Torch-bearers are on the Fore-ground: The Dance in Circles, and Musicians behind them: The Street in Perspective on either side, the Women and Spectators, in the Porches, &c. dispers’d thro’ all the Architecture.
Second Compartiment. An Assembly of People.
[Greek], &c. ]
There was seen a Number of People in the Market-place, and two Men disputing warmly: The Occasion was the Payment of a Fine for a Murder, which one affirm’d before the People he had paid, the other deny’d to have receiv’d; both demanded, that the Affair should be determined by the Judgment of an Arbiter: The Acclamations of the Multitude favour’d sometimes the one Party, sometimes the other. Here is a fine Plan for a Master-piece of Expression; any Judge of Painting will see our Author has chosen that Cause which of all others, wou’d give occasion to the greatest Variety of expression: The Father, the Murderer, the Witnesses, and the different Passions of the Assembly, would afford an ample Field for this Talent even to Raphael himself.
Third Compartiment. The Senate.
[Greek], &c. ]
The Heralds rang’d the People in order: The reverend Elders were seated on Seats of polish’d Stone, in the sacred Circle; they rose up and declared their Judgment, each in his Turn, with the Scepter in his Hand: Two Talents of Gold were laid in the middle of the Circle, to be given to him who should pronounce the most equitable Judgment. The Judges are seated in the Center of the Picture; one (who is the principal Figure) standing up as speaking, another in an Action of rising, as in order to speak: The Ground about ’em a Prospect of the Forum, fill’d with Auditors and Spectators.
Fourth Compartiment. A Town in War.
[Greek], &c.]
The other City was besieged by two glittering Armies: They were not agreed, whether to sack the Town, or divide all the Booty of it into two equal Parts, to be shared between them: Meantime the besieged secretly armed themselves for an Ambuscade. Their Wives, Children, and old Men were posted to defend the Walls: The Warriors march’d from the Town with Pallas and Mars at their Head: The Deities were of Gold, and had golden Armours, by the Glory of which they were distinguish’d above the Men, as well as by their superior Stature, and more elegant Proportions. This Subject may be thus disposed: The Town pretty near the Eye, a-cross the whole Picture, with the old Men on the Walls: The Chiefs of each Army on the Foreground: Their different Opinions for putting the Town to the Sword, or sparing it on account of the Booty, may be express’d by some having their Hands on their Swords, and looking up to the City, others stopping them, or in an Action of persuading against it. Behind, in Prospect, the Townsmen may be seen going out from the back Gates, with the two Deities at their Head.
Homer here gives a clear Instance of what the Ancients always practised; the distinguishing the Gods and Goddesses by Characters of Majesty or Beauty somewhat superior to Nature; we constantly find this in their Statues, and to this the modern Masters owe the grand Taste in the Perfection of their Figures.
Fifth Compartiment. An Ambuscade.
[Greek], &c. ]
Being arrived at the River where they design’d their Ambush (the Place where the Cattel were water’d) they dispos’d themselves along the Bank, cover’d with their Arms: Two Spies lay at a distance from them, observing when the Oxen and Sheep should come to drink. They came immediately, followed by two Shepherds, who were playing on their Pipes, without any Apprehension of their Danger. This quiet Picture is a kind of Repose between the last, and the following, active Pieces. Here is a Scene of a River and Trees, under which lye the Soldiers, next the Eye of the Spectator; on the farther Bank are placed the two Spies on one Hand, and the Flocks and Shepherds appear coming at a greater Distance on the other.
Sixth Compartiment. The Battel.
[Greek], &c. ]
The People of the Town rush’d upon them, carried off the Oxen and Sheep, and kill’d the Shepherds. The Besiegers sitting before the Town, heard the Outcry, and mounting their Horses, arriv’d at the Bank of the River; where they stopp’d, and encounter’d each other with their Spears. Discord, Tumult, and Fate rag’d in the midst of them. There might you see cruel Destiny dragging a dead Soldier thro’ the Battel; two others she seiz’d alive; one of which was mortally wounded; the other not yet hurt: The Garment on her Shoulders was stain’d with human Blood: The Figures appear’d as if they lived, moved, and fought, you would think they really dragged off their Dead. The Sheep and two Shepherds lying dead upon the Foreground. A Battel-piece fills the Picture. The Allegorical Figure of the Parca or Destiny is the Principal. This had been a noble Occasion for such a Painter as Rubens, who has with most Happiness and Learning, imitated the Ancients in these fictitious and symbolical Persons.
Seventh Compartiment. Tillage.
[Greek].]
The next Piece represented a large Field, a deep and fruitful Soil, which seem’d to have been three times plow’d; the Labourers appear’d turning their Plows on every side. As soon as they came to a Land’s end, a Man presented them a Bowl of Wine; cheared with this, they return’d, and worked down a new furrow, desirous to hasten to the next Land’s end. The Field was of Gold, but look’d black behind the Plows, as if it had really been turn’d up; the surprizing Effect of the Art of Vulcan.
The Plowmen must be represented on the Fore-ground, in the Action of turning at the End of the Furrow. The Invention of Homer is not content with barely putting down the Figures, but enlivens them prodigiously with some remarkable Circumstance: The giving a Cup of Wine to the Plowmen must occasion a fine Expression in the Faces.
Eighth Compartiment. The Harvest.
[Greek], &c. ]
Next he represented a Field of Corn, in which the Reapers worked with sharp Sickles in their Hands; the Corn fell thick along the Furrows in equal Rows: Three Binders were employed in making up the Sheaves: The Boys attending them, gather’d up the loose Swarths, and carried them in their Arms to be bound: The Lord of the Field standing in the midst of the Heaps, with a Scepter in his Hand, rejoyces in Silence: His Officers, at a Distance, prepare a Feast under the Shade of an Oak, and hold an Ox ready to be sacrificed; while the Women mix the Flower of Wheat for the Reaper’s Supper. The Reapers on the Fore-ground, with their Faces towards the Spectators; the Gatherers behind, and the Children on the farther Ground. The Master of the Field, who is the chief Figure, may be set in the middle of the Picture with a strong Light upon him, in the Action of directing and pointing with his Scepter: The Oak, with the Servants under it, the Sacrifice, &c. on a distant Ground, would altogether make a beautiful Grouppe of great Variety.
Ninth Compartiment. The Vintage.
[Greek], &c. ]
He then engraved a Vineyard loaden with its Grapes: The Vineyard was Gold, but the Grapes black, and the Props of them Silver. A Trench of a dark Metal, and a Palisade of Tin encompass’d the whole Vineyard. There was one Path in it, by which the Labourers in the Vineyard pass’d: Young Men and Maids carried the Fruit in woven Baskets: In the middle of them a Youth play’d on the Lyre and charmed them with his tender Voice, as he sung to the Strings (or as he sung the Song of Linus:) The rest striking the Ground with their Feet in exact time, follow’d him in a Dance, and accompanied his Voice with their own. The Vintage scarce needs to be painted in any Colours but Homer’s. The Youths and Maids toward the Eye, as coming out of the Vineyard: The Enclosure, Pales, Gate, &c. on the Fore-ground. There is something inexpressibly riant in this Piece, above all the rest.
Tenth Compartiment. Animals.
[Greek], &c. ]
He graved a Herd of Oxen, marching with their Heads erected; These Oxen (inlaid with Gold and Tin) seem’d to bellow as they quitted their Stall, and run in haste to the Meadows, through which a rapid River roll’d with resounding Streams amongst the Rushes: Four Herdsmen of Gold attended them, follow’d by nine large Dogs: Two terrible Lions seized a Bull by the Throat, who roar’d as they dragg’d him along; the Dogs and the Herdsmen ran to his Rescue, but the Lions having torn the Bull, devour’d his Entrails, and drank his Blood, the Herdsmen came up with their Dogs and hearten’d them in vain; they durst not attack the Lions, but standing at some Distance, barked at them and shunn’d them. We have next a fine Piece of Animals, tame and savage: But what is remarkable, is, that these Animals are not coldly brought in to be gazed upon: The Herds, Dogs, and Lions are put into Action, enough to exercise the Warmth and Spirit of Rubens, or the great Taste of Julio Romano. The Lions may be next the Eye, one holding the Bull by the Throat, the other tearing out his Entrails: A Herdsman or two heartening the Dogs: All these on the Fore-ground. On the second Ground another Grouppe of Oxen, that seem to have been gone before, tossing their Heads and running; other Herdsmen and Dogs after ’em: And beyond them, a Prospect of the River.
Eleventh Compartiment. Sheep.
[Greek], &c.
The divine Artist then engraved a large Flock of white Sheep, feeding along a beautiful Valley. Innumerable Folds, Cottages, and enclos’d Shelters, were scatter’d thro’ the Prospect. This is an entire Landscape without human Figures, an Image of Nature solitary and undisturb’d: The deepest Repose and Tranquillity is that which distinguishes it from the others.
Twelfth Compartiment. The Dance.
[Greek], &c. ]
The skilful Vulcan then design’d the Figure and various Motions of a Dance, like that which Daedalus of old contrived in Gnossus for the fair Ariadne. There the young Men and Maidens danced Hand in Hand; the Maids were dress’d in linen Garments, the Men in rich and shining Stuffs: The Maids had flowery Crowns on their Heads; the Men had Swords of Gold hanging from their Sides in Belts of Silver. Here they seem’d to run in a Ring with active Feet, as swiftly as a Wheel runs round when tried by the Hand of the Potter. There, they appear’d to move in many Figures, and sometimes to meet, sometimes to wind from each other. A Multitude of Spectators stood round, delighted with the Dance. In the middle, two nimble Tumblers exercised themselves in Feats of Activity, while the Song was carried on by the whole Circle. This Picture includes the greatest Number of Persons: Homer himself has group’d them, and marked the manner of the Composition. This Piece would excel in the different Airs of Beauty which might be given to the young Men and Women, and the graceful Attitudes in the various manners of Dancing: On which account the Subject might be fit for Guido, or perhaps cou’d be no where better executed than in our own Countrey.
The BORDER of the SHIELD.
[Greek], &c. ]
Then laslly, he represented the rapid Course of the great Ocean, which he made to roll its Waves round the Extremity of the whole Circumference. This (as has been said before) was only the Frame to the whole Shield; and is therefore but slightly touch’d upon, without any mention of particular Objects.
I ought not to end this Essay, without vindicating myself from the Vanity of treating of an Art, which I love so much better than I understand: But I have been very careful to consult both the best Performers and Judges in Painting. I can’t neglect this occasion of saying, how happy I think myself in the Favour of the most distinguish’d Masters of that Art. Sir Godsrey Kneller in particular allows me to tell the World, that he entirely agrees with my Sentiments on this Subject: And I can’t help wishing, that he who gives this Testimony to Homer, would ennoble so great a Design by his own Execution of it. Vulcan never wrought for Thetis with more Readiness and Affection than Sir Godfrey has done for me: And so admirable a Picture of the whole Universe could not be a more agreeable Present than he has oblig’d me with, in the Portraits of some of those Persons who are to me the dearest Objects in it.
Book XIX THE NINETEENTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THETIS brings to her Son the Armour made by Vulcan. She preserves the Body of his Friend from Corruption, and commands him to assemble the Army, to declare his Resentment at an end. Agamemnon and Achilles are solemnly reconcil’d: The Speeches, Presents, and Ceremonies on that Occasion. Achilles is with great Difficulty persuaded to refrain from the Battel till the Troops have refresh’d themselves, by the Advice of Ulysses. The Presents are convey’d to the Tent of Achilles; where Briseis laments over the Body of Patroclus. The Hero obstinately refuses all repast, and gives himself up to Lamentations for his Friend. Minerva descends to strengthen him, by the Order of Jupiter. He arms for the Fight; his Appearance described. He addresses himself to his Horses, and reproaches them with the Death of Patroclus. One of them is miraculously endued with Voice, and inspir’d to prophecy his Fate; but the Hero, not astonish’d by that Prodigy, rushes with Fury to the Combate. The thirtieth Day. The Scene is on the Sea-shore.
Index to The Argument
- [1-24] Thetis brings the divine armour
- [25-42] Corpse preserved, counsel given
- [43-56] Achilles summons the Achaeans
- [57-78] Wrath laid down
- [79-136] Agamemnon’s defence and the myth of Ate
- [137-146] Restitution pledged
- [147-153] Achilles spurns delay
- [154-168] Odysseus argues for food and a public oath
- [169-196] Agamemnon adopts the plan
- [197-214] Achilles’ fast of vengeance
- [215-240] Odysseus’ final persuasion
- [241-258] Gifts and women arrive
- [259-280] Agamemnon’s solemn oath over the boar
- [281-288] Strife blamed on Zeus; council dismissed
- [289-322] Briseis laments Patroclus
- [323-334] Counsellors cannot console Achilles
- [335-359] A long, private lament
- [360-377] Athena secretly feeds the hero
- [378-389] The Achaeans arm—fields blaze with bronze
- [390-425] Achilles dons the work of Hephaestus
- [426-445] Chariot readied; the hero addresses his horses
- [446-471] Prophecy from Xanthus and Achilles’ fearless reply
SOON as Aurora heav’d her orient Head
Above the Waves that blush’d with early Red,
(With new-born Day to gladden mortal Sight,
And gild the Courts of Heav’n with sacred Light.)
Th’immortal Arms the Goddess-Mother bears
Swift to her Son: Her Son she finds in Tears,
Stretch’d o’er Patroclus’ Corse; while all the rest
Their Sov’reign’s Sorrows in their own exprest.
A Ray divine her heav’nly Presence shed,
And thus, his Hand soft-touching, Thetis said.
Suppress (my Son) this Rage of Grief, and know
It was not Man, but Heav’n that gave the Blow;
Behold what Arms by Vulcan are bestow’d,
Arms worthy thee, or fit to grace a God.
Then drops the radiant Burden on the Ground;
Clang the strong Arms, and ring the Shores around:
Back shrink the Myrmidons with dread Surprize,
And from the broad Effulgence turn their Eyes.
Unmov’d, the Hero kindles at the Show,
And feels with Rage divine his Bosom glow
From his fierce Eye-balls living Flames expire,
And flash incessant like a Stream of Fire:
He turns the radiant Gift; and feeds his Mind
On all th’immortal Artist had design’d.
Goddess (he cry’d) these glorious Arms that shine
With matchless Art, confess the Hand divine.
Now to the bloody Battel let me bend:
But ah! the Relicks of my slaughter’d Friend!
In those wide Wounds thro’ which his Spirit fled,
Shall Flies and Worms obscene, pollute the Dead?
That unavailing Care be laid aside,
(The Azure Goddess to her Son reply’d)
Whole Years untouch’d, uninjur’d shall remain
Fresh as in Life, the Carcase of the Slain.
But go, Achilles, (as Affairs require)
Before the Grecian Peers renounce thine Ire:
Then uncontroll’d in boundless War engage,
And Heav’n with Strength supply the mighty Rage!
Then in the Nostrils of the Slain she pour’d
Nectareous Drops, and rich Ambrosia showr’d
O’er all the Corse: The Flies forbid their Prey,
Untouch’d it rests, and sacred from Decay.
Achilles to the Strand obedient went;
The Shores resounded with the Voice he sent.
The Heroes heard, and all the Naval Train
That tend the Ships, or guide them o’er the Main,
Alarm’d, transported, at the well-known Sound,
Frequent and full, the great Assembly crown’d;
Studious to see that Terror of the Plain,
Long lost to Battel, shine in Arms again.
50Tydides and Ulysses first appear,
Lame with their Wounds, and leaning on the Spear;
These on the sacred Seats of Council plac’d,
The King of Men, Atrides, came the last:
He too sore wounded by Agenor’s Son.
Achilles (rising in the midst) begun.
Oh Monarch! better far had been the Fate
Of thee, of me, of all the Grecian State,
If, (e’er the Day when by mad Passion sway’d,
Rash we contended for the black-ey’d Maid)
Preventing Dian had dispatch’d her Dart,
And shot the shining Mischief to the Heart!
Then many a Hero had not press’d the Shore,
Nor Troy’s glad Fields been fatten’d with our Gore:
Long, long shall Greece the Woes we caus’d, bewail,
And sad Posterity repeat the Tale.
But this, no more the Subject of Debate,
Is past, forgotten, and resign’d to Fate:
Why should (alas) a mortal Man, as I,
Burn with a Fury that can never die?
Here then my Anger ends: Let War succeed,
And ev’n as Greece has bled, let Ilion bleed.
Now call the Hosts, and try, if in our Sight,
Troy yet shall dare to camp a second Night?
I deem, their Mightiest, when this Arm he knows,
Shall ’scape with Transport, and with Joy repose.
He said: His finish’d Wrath with loud Acclaim
The Greeks accept, and shout Pelides’ Name.
When thus, not rising from his lofty Throne,
In State unmov’d, the King of Men begun.
Hear me ye Sons of Greece! with Silence hear!
And grant your Monarch an impartial Ear;
Awhile your loud, untimely Joy suspend,
And let your rash, injurious Clamours end:
Unruly Murmurs, or ill-tim’d Applause,
Wrong the best Speaker, and the justest Cause.
Nor charge on me, ye Greeks, the dire Debate;
Know, angry Jove, and all-compelling Fate,
With fell Erynnis, urg’d my Wrath that Day
When from Achilles’ Arms I forc’d the Prey.
What then cou’d I, against the Will of Heaven?
Not by my self, but vengeful Ate driv’n;
She, Jove’s dread Daughter, fated to infest
The Race of Mortals, enter’d in my Breast.
Not on the Ground that haughty Fury treads,
But prints her lofty Footsteps on the Heads
Of mighty Men; inflicting as she goes
Long-fest’ring Wounds, inextricable Woes!
Of old, she stalk’d amid the bright Abodes;
And Jove himself, the Sire of Men and Gods,
100The World’s great Ruler, felt her venom’d Dart;
Deceiv’d by Juno’s Wiles, and female Art.
For when Alcmena’s nine long Months were run,
And Jove expected his immortal Son;
To Gods and Goddesses th’unruly Joy
He show’d, and vaunted of his matchless Boy:
From us (he said) this Day an Infant springs,
Fated to rule, and born a King of Kings.
Saturnia ask’d an Oath, to vouch the Truth,
And fix Dominion on the favour’d Youth.
The Thund’rer, unsuspicious of the Fraud,
Pronounc’d those solemn Words that bind a God.
The joyful Goddess, from Olympus’ Height,
Swift to Achaian Argos bent her Flight;
Scarce sev’n Moons gone, lay Sthenelus his Wife;
She push’d her ling’ring Infant into Life:
Her Charms Alcmena’s coming Labours stay,
And stop the Babe, just issuing to the Day.
Then bids Saturnius bear his Oath in mind;
A Youth (said she) of Jove’s immortal Kind
Is this Day born: From Sthenelus he springs,
And claims thy Promise to be King of Kings.
Grief seiz’d the Thund’rer, by his Oath engag’d;
Stung to the Soul, he sorrow’d, and he rag’d.
From his Ambrosial Head, where perch’d she sate,
He snatch’d the Fury-Goddess of Debate,
The dread, th’irrevocable Oath he swore,
Th’immortal Seats should ne’er behold her more;
And whirl’d her headlong down, for ever driv’n
From bright Olympus and the starry Heav’n:
Thence on the nether World the Fury fell;
Ordain’d with Man’s contentious Race to dwell.
Full oft’ the God his Son’s hard Toils bemoan’d,
Curs’d the dire Fury, and in secret groan’d.
Ev’n thus, like Jove himself, was I misled,
While raging Hector heap’d our Camps with Dead.
What can the Errors of my Rage attone?
My martial Troops, my Treasures, are thy own:
This Instant from the Navy shall be sent
Whate’er Ulysses promis’d at thy Tent:
But thou! appeas’d, propitious to our Pray’r,
Resume thy Arms, and shine again in War.
O King of Nations! whose superiour Sway
(Returns Achilles ) all our Hosts obey!
To keep, or send the Presents, be thy Care;
To us, ’tis equal: All we ask is War.
While yet we talk, or but an instant shun
The Fight, our glorious Work remains undone.
Let ev’ry Greek who sees my Spear confound
The Trojan Ranks, and deal Destruction round,
150With Emulation, what I act, survey,
And learn from thence the Business of the Day.
The Son of Peleus thus: And thus replies
The great in Councils, Ithacus the Wise.
Tho’ god-like Thou art by no Toils opprest,
At least our Armies claim Repast and Rest:
Long and laborious must the Combate be,
When by the Gods inspir’d, and led by thee.
Strength is deriv’d from Spirits and from Blood,
And those augment by gen’rous Wine and Food;
What boastful Son of War, without that Stay,
Can last a Hero thro’ a single Day?
Courage may prompt; but, ebbing out his Strength,
Mere unsupported Man must yield at length;
Shrunk with dry Famine, and with Toils declin’d,
The dropping Body will desert the Mind:
But built a new with Strength-conferring Fare,
With Limbs and Soul untam’d, he tires a War.
Dismiss the People then, and give command,
With strong Repast to hearten ev’ry Band;
But let the Presents, to Achilles made,
In full Assembly of all Greece be laid.
The King of Men shall rise in publick Sight,
And solemn swear, (observant of the Rite)
That spotless as she came, the Maid removes,
Pure from his Arms, and guiltless of his Loves.
That done, a sumptuous Banquet shall be made,
And the full Price of injur’d Honour paid.
Stretch not henceforth, O Prince! thy sov’reign Might,
Beyond the Bounds of Reason and of Right;
’Tis the chief Praise that e’er to Kings belong’d,
To right with Justice, whom with Pow’r they wrong’d.
To him the Monarch. Just is thy Decree,
Thy Words give Joy, and Wisdom breathes in thee.
Each due Atonement gladly I prepare;
And Heav’n regard me as I justly swear!
Here then awhile let Greece assembled stay,
Nor great Achilles grudge this short Delay;
Till from the Fleet our Presents be convey’d,
And, Jove attesting, the firm Compact made.
A Train of noble Youth the Charge shall bear;
These to select, Ulysses, be thy Care:
In order rank’d let all our Gifts appear,
And the fair Train of Captives close the Rear:
Talthybius shall the Victim Boar convey,
Sacred to Jove, and yon’ bright Orb of Day.
For this (the stern Aeacides replies)
Some less important Season may suffice,
When the stern Fury of the War is o’er,
And Wrath extinguish’d burns my Breast no more.
200By Hector slain, their Faces to the Sky,
All grim with gaping Wounds, our Heroes lye:
Those call to War! and might my Voice incite,
Now, now, this Instant, shou’d commence the Fight.
Then, when the Days’ complete, let gen’rous Bowls
And copious Banquets, glad your weary Souls.
Let not my Palate know the Taste of Food,
Till my insatiate Rage be cloy’d with Blood:
Pale lyes my Friend, with Wounds disfigur’d o’er,
And his cold Feet are pointed to the Door.
Revenge is all my Soul! no meaner Care,
Int’rest, or Thought, has room to harbour there;
Destruction be my Feast, and mortal Wounds,
And Scenes of Blood, and agonizing Sounds.
O first of Greeks ( Ulysses thus rejoin’d)
The best and bravest of the Warrior-Kind!
Thy Praise it is in dreadful Camps to shine,
But old Experience and calm Wisdom, mine.
Then hear my Counsel, and to Reason yield,
The bravest soon are satiate of the Field;
Tho’ vast the Heaps that strow the crimson Plain,
The bloody Harvest brings but little Gain:
The Scale of Conquest ever wav’ring lies,
Great Jove but turns it, and the Victor dies!
The Great, the Bold, by Thousands daily fall,
And endless were the Grief, to weep for all.
Eternal Sorrows what avails to shed?
Greece honours not with solemn Fasts the Dead:
Enough, when Death demands the Brave, to pay
The Tribute of a melancholy Day.
One Chief with Patience to the Grave resign’d,
Our Care devolves on others left behind.
Let gen’rous Food Supplies of Strength produce,
Let rising Spirits flow from sprightly Juice,
Let their warm Heads with Scenes of Battle glow,
And pour new Furies on the feebler Foe.
Yet a short Interval, and none shall dare
Expect a second Summons to the War;
Who waits for that, the dire Effect shall find,
If trembling in the Ships he lags behind.
Embodied, to the Battel let us bend,
And all at once on haughty Troy descend.
And now the Delegates Ulysses sent,
To bear the Presents from the royal Tent.
The Sons of Nestor, Phyleus’ valiant Heir,
Thias and Merion, Thunderbolts of War,
With Lycomedes of Creiontian Strain,
And Melanippus; form’d the chosen Train.
Swift as the Word was giv’n, the Youths obey’d;
Twice ten bright Vases in the midst they laid;
250A Rowe of six fair Tripods then succeeds;
And twice the Number of high-bounding Steeds:
Sev’n Captives next a lovely Line compose;
The eighth Briseis, like the blooming Rose,
Clos’d the bright Band: Great Ithacus, before,
First of the Train, the golden Talents bore:
The rest in publick View the Chiefs dispose,
A splendid Scene! Then Agamemnon rose:
The Boar Talthybius held: The Grecian Lord
Drew the broad Cutlace sheath’d beside his Sword;
The stubborn Bristles from the Victim’s Brow
He crops, and off’ring meditates his Vow.
His Hands uplifted to th’attesting Skies,
On Heav’ns broad marble Roof were fix’d his Eyes,
The solemn Words a deep Attention draw,
And Greece around sate thrill’d with sacred Awe.
Witness thou First! thou greatest Pow’r above!
All good, all-wise, and all-surveying Jove!
And Mother Earth, and Heav’ns revolving Light,
And ye, fell Furies of the Realms of Night,
Who rule the Dead, and horrid Woes prepare
For perjur’d Kings, and all who falsely swear!
The black-ey’d Maid inviolate removes,
Pure and unconscious of my manly Loves.
If this be false, Heav’n all its Vengeance shed,
And level’d Thunder strike my guilty Head!
With that, his Weapon deep inflicts the Wound;
The bleeding Savage tumbles to the Ground:
The sacred Herald rolls the Victim slain
(A Feast for Fish) into the foaming Main.
Then thus Achilles. Hear, ye Greeks! and know
Whate’er we feel, ’tis Jove inflicts the Woe:
Not else Atrides could our Rage inflame,
Nor from my Arms, unwilling, force the Dame.
’Twas Jove’s high Will alone, o’eruling all,
That doom’d our Strife, and doom’d the Greeks to fall.
Go then ye Chiefs! indulge the genial Rite;
Achilles waits ye, and expects the Fight.
The speedy Council at his Word adjourn’d;
To their black Vessels all the Greeks return’d.
Achilles sought his Tent. His Train before
March’d onward, bending with the Gifts they bore.
Those in the Tents the Squires industrious spread;
The foaming Coursers to the Stalls they led.
To their new Seats the Female Captives move;
Briseis, radiant as the Queen of Love,
Slow as she past, beheld with sad survey
Where gash’d with cruel Wounds, Patroclus lay.
Prone on the Body fell the heav’nly Fair,
Beat her sad Breast, and tore her golden Hair;
300All-beautiful in Grief, her humid Eyes
Shining with Tears, she lifts, and thus she cries.
Ah Youth! for ever dear, for ever kind,
Once tender Friend of my distracted Mind!
I left thee fresh in Life, in Beauty gay;
Now find thee cold, inanimated Clay!
What Woes my wretched Race of Life attend?
Sorrows on Sorrows, never doom’d to end!
The first lov’d Consort of my virgin Bed
Before these Eyes in fatal Battel bled:
My three brave Brothers in one mournful Day
All trod the dark, irremeable Way:
Thy friendly Hand uprear’d me from the Plain,
And dry’d my Sorrows for a Husband slain;
Achilles’ Care you promis’d I shou’d prove,
The first, the dearest Partner of his Love,
That Rites divine should ratify the Band,
And make me Empress in his native Land.
Accept these grateful Tears! For thee they flow,
For thee, that ever felt another’s Woe!
Her Sister Captives echo’d Groan for Groan,
Nor mourn’d Patroclus’ Fortunes, but their own.
The Leaders press’d the Chief on ev’ry side;
Unmov’d, he heard them, and with Sighs deny’d
If yet Achilles have a Friend, whose Care
Is bent to please him; this Request forbear:
Till yonder Sun descend, ah let me pay
To Grief and Anguish one abstemious Day.
He spoke, and from the Warriors turn’d his Face:
Yet still the Brother-Kings of Atreus’ Race:
Nestor, Idomeneus, Ulysses sage,
And Phoenix; strive to calm his Grief and Rage
His Rage they calm not, nor his Grief controul;
He groans, he raves, he sorrows from his Soul.
Thou too, Patroclus! (thus his Heart he vents)
Hast spread th’inviting Banquet in our Tents;
Thy sweet Society, thy winning Care,
Oft’ stay’d Achilles, rushing to the War.
But now alas! to Death’s cold Arms resign’d,
What Banquet but Revenge can glad my Mind?
What greater Sorrow could afflict my Breast,
What more, if hoary Peleus were deceast?
Who now, perhaps, in Pthia dreads to hear
His Son’s sad Fate, and drops a tender Tear.)
What more, should Neoptolemus the brave,
(My only Offspring) sink into the Grave?
If yet that Offspring lives, (I distant far,
Of all neglectful, wage a hateful War.)
I cou’d not this, this cruel Stroke attend;
Fate claim’d Achilles, but might spare his Friend.
350I hop’d Patroclus might survive, to rear
My tender Orphan with a Parent’s Care,
From Scyros Isle conduct him o’er the Main,
And glad his Eyes with his paternal Reign,
The lofty Palace, and the large Domain.
For Peleus breaths no more the vital Air;
Or drags a wretched Life of Age and Care,
But till the News of my sad Fate invades
His hastening Soul, and sinks him to the Shades.
Sighing he said: His Grief the Heroes join’d,
Each stole a Tear for what he left behind.
Their mingled Grief the Sire of Heav’n survey’d,
And thus, with Pity, to his blue-ey’d Maid.
Is then Achilles now no more thy Care,
And dost thou thus desert the Great in War?
Lo, where yon’ Sails their canvas Wings extend,
All comfortless he sits, and wails his Friend:
E’er Thirst and Want his Forces have opprest,
Haste and infuse Ambrosia in his Breast.
He spoke, and sudden as the Word of Jove
Shot the descending Goddess from above.
So swift thro’ Aether the shrill Harpye sings,
The wide Air floating to her ample Wings.
To great Achilles she her Flight addrest,
And pour’d divine Ambrosia in his Breast,
With Nectar sweet, (Refection of the God’s!)
Then, swift ascending, sought the bright Abodes.
Now issued from the Ships the warrior Train,
And like a Deluge pour’d upon the Plain.
As when the piercing Blasts of Boreas blow,
And scatter o’er the Fields the driving Snow;
From dusky Clouds the fleecy Winter flies,
Whose dazling Lustre whitens all the Skies:
So Helms succeeding Helms, so Shields from Shields
Catch the quick Beams, and brighten all the Fields;
Broad-glitt’ring Breastplates, Spears with pointed Rays
Mix in one Stream, reflecting Blaze on Blaze:
Thick beats the Center as the Coursers bound,
With Splendor flame the Skies, and laugh the Fields around.
Full in the midst, high tow’ring o’er the rest,
His Limbs in Arms divine Achilles drest;
Arms which the Father of the Fire bestow’d,
Forg’d on th’Eternal Anvils of the God.
Grief and Revenge his furious Heart inspire,
His glowing Eye-balls roll with living Fire,
He grinds his Teeth, and furious with Delay
O’erlooks th’embattled Host, and hopes the bloody Day.
The silver Cuishes first his Thighs infold;
Then o’er his Breast was brac’d the hollow Gold:
The brazen Sword a various Baldrick ty’d,
400That, starr’d with Gems, hung glitt’ring at his side;
And like the Moon, the broad refulgent Shield
Blaz’d with long Rays, and gleam’d athwart the Field.
So to Night-wand’ring Sailors, pale with Fears,
Wide o’er the wat’ry Waste, a Light appears,
Which on the far-seen Mountain blazing high,
Streams from some lonely Watch-tow’r to the Sky:
With mournful Eyes they gaze, and gaze again;
Loud howls the Storm, and drives them o’er the Main.
Next, his high Head the Helmet grac’d; behind
The sweepy Crest hung floating in the Wind:
Like the red Star, that from his flaming Hair
Shakes down Diseases, Pestilence and War;
So stream’d the golden Honours from his Head,
Trembled the sparkling Plumes, and the loose Glories shed.
The Chief beholds himself with wond’ring eyes;
His Arms he poises, and his Motions tries;
Buoy’d by some inward Force, he seems to swim,
And feels a Pinion lifting ev’ry Limb.
And now he shakes his great paternal Spear,
Pond’rous and huge! which not a Greek could rear.
From Pelion’s cloudy Top an Ash entire
Old Chiron fell’d, and shap’d it for his Sire;
A Spear which stern Achilles only wields,
The Death of Heroes, and the Dread of Fields.
Automedon and Alcimus prepare
Th’immortal Coursers, and the radiant Car,
(The silver Traces sweeping at their side)
Their fiery Mouths resplendent Bridles ty’d,
The Iv’ry studded Reins, return’d behind,
Wav’d o’er their Backs, and to the Chariot join’d.
The Charioteer then whirl’d the Lash around,
And swift ascended at one active Bound.
All bright in heav’nly Arms, above his Squire
Achilles mounts, and sets the Field on Fire;
Not brighter, Phoebus in th’Aethereal Way,
Flames from his Chariot, and restores the Day.
High o’er the Host, all terrible he stands,
And thunders to his Steeds these dread Commands.
Xanthus and Balius! of Podarges’ Strain,
(Unless ye boast that heav’nly Race in vain)
Be swift, be mindful of the Load ye bear,
And learn to make your Master more your Care:
Thro’ falling Squadrons bear my slaught’ring Sword,
Nor, as ye left Patroclus, leave your Lord.
The gen’rous Xanthus, as the Words he said,
Seem’d sensible of Woe, and droop’d his Head:
Trembling he stood before the golden Wain,
And bow’d to Dust the Honours of his Mane,
When strange to tell! (So Juno will’d) he broke
450Eternal Silence, and portentous spoke.
Achilles! yes! this Day at least we bear
Thy rage in safety thro’ the Files of War:
But come it will, the fatal Time must come,
Nor ours the Fault, but God decrees thy Doom.
Not thro’ our Crime, or Slowness in the Course;
Fell thy Patroclus, but by heav’nly Force.
The bright far-shooting God who gilds the Day,
(Confest we saw him) tore his Arms away.
No—could our Swiftness o’er the Winds prevail,
Or beat the Pinions of the Western Gale,
All were in vain—The Fates thy Death demand,
Due to a mortal and immortal Hand.
Then ceas’d for ever, by the Furies ty’d,
His fate-ful Voice. Th’intrepid Chief reply’d
With unabated Rage—So let it be!
Portents and Prodigies are lost on me.
I know my Fates: To die, to see no more
My much lov’d Parents, and my native Shore—
Enough—When Heav’n ordains, I sink in Night,
Now perish Troy! He said, and rush’d to Fight.
Observations on the 19th Book
Notes Index
Note I.
VERSE 13. BEhold what Arms, &c.]
’Tis not Poetry only which has had this Idea, of giving divine Ams to a Hero; we have a very remarkable Example of it in our holy Books. In the second of Maccabees, chap. 16. Judas sees in a Dream the Prophet Jeremiah bringing to him a Sword as from God: Tho’ this was only a Dream, or a Vision, yet still it is the same Idea. This Example is likewise so much the more worthy of Observation, as it is much later than the Age of Homer; and as thereby it is seen, that the same way of Thinking continued a long time amongst the Oriental Nations. Dacier.
Note II.
VERSE 30. Shall Flies and Worms obscene pollute the Dead? ]
The Care which Achilles takes in this place to drive away the Flies from the dead Body of Patroclus, seems to us a mean Employment, and a Care unworthy of a Hero. But that Office was regarded by Homer, and by all the Greeks of his time, as a pious Duty consecrated by Custom and Religion; which obliged the Kindred and Friends of the Deceas’d to watch his Corps, and prevent any Corruption before the solemn Day of his Funerals. It is plain this Devoir was thought an indispensable one, since Achilles could not discharge himself of it but by imposing it upon his Mother. It is also clear, that in those times the Preservation of a dead Body was accounted a very important Matter, since the Goddesses themselves, nay the most delicate of the Goddesses, made it the Subject of their utmost Attention. As Thetis preserves the Body of Patroclus, and chases from it those Insects that breed in the Wounds and cause Putrefaction, so Venus is employ’d Day and Night about that of Hector, in driving away the Dogs to which Achilles had expos’d it. Apollo, on his part, covers it with a thick Cloud, and preserves its Freshness amidst the greatest Heats of the Sun: And this Care of the Deities over the Dead was look’d upon by Men as a Fruit of their Piety.
There is an excellent Remark upon this Passage in Bossu’s admirable Treatise of the Epic Poem, lib. 3. c. 10.
"To speak (says this Author) of the Arts and Sciences as a Poet ought, we should veil them under Names and Actions of Persons fictitious and allegorical. Homer will not plainly say that Salt has the Virtue to preserve dead Bodies, and prevent the Flies from engendering Worms in them; he will not say, that the Sea presented Achilles a Remedy to preserve Patroclus from Putrefaction; but he will make the Sea a Goddess, and tell us, that Thetis to comfort Achilles, engaged to perfume the Body with an Ambrosia which shou’d keep it a whole Year from Corruption: It is thus Homer teaches the Poets to speak of Arts and Sciences. This Example shews the Nature of the things, that Flies cause Putrefaction, that Salt preserves Bodies from it; but all this is told us poetically, the whole is reduced into Action, the Sea is made a Person who speaks and acts, and this Prosopopoeia is accompanied with Passion, Tenderness and Affection; in a word, there is nothing which is not (according to Aristotle’s Precept) endued with Manners.
Note III.
VERSE 61. Preventing Dian had dispatch’d her Dart, And shot the shining Mischief to the Heart. ]
Achilles wishes Briseis had died before she had occasion’d so great Calamities to his Countreymen: I will not say, to excuse him, that his Virtue here overpowers his Love, but that the Wish is not so very barbarous as it may seem by the Phrase to a modern Reader. It is not, that Diana had actually kill’d her, as by a particular Stroke or Judgment from Heaven; it means no more than a natural Death, as appears from this Passage in Odyss. 15.
When Age or Sickness have unnerv’d the Strong, Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along, They bend the Silver Bows for sudden Ill, And every shining Arrow flies to kill.
And he does not wish her Death now, after she had been his Mistress, but only that she had died, before he knew, or lov’d her.
Note IV.
VERSE 93. She, Jove ’s dread daughter. ]
This Speech of Agamemnon, consisting of little else than the long Story of Jupiter’s casting Discord out of Heaven, seems odd enough at first sight; and does not indeed answer what I believe every Reader expects, at the Conference of these two Princes. Without excusing it from the Justness, and proper Application of the Allegory in the present Case, I think it a piece of Artifice, very agreeable to the Character of Agamemnon, which is a Mixture of Haughtiness and Cunning! He cannot prevail with himself any way to lessen the Dignity of the royal Character, of which he every where appears jealous: Something he is oblig’d to say in publick, and not brooking directly to own himself in the wrong, he slurs it over with this Tale. With what Stateliness is it that he yields?
"I was misled
(says he) but I was misled like Jupiter. We invest you with our Powers, take our Troops and our Treasures: Our royal Promise shall be fulfill’d, but be you pacified."
Note V.
VERSE 93. She, Jove ’s dread Daughter, fated to infest The Race of Mortals— ]
It appears from hence, that the Ancients own’d a Daemon, created by God himself, and totally taken up in doing Mischief.
This Fiction is very remarkable, in as much as it proves that the Pagans knew that a Daemon of Discord and Malediction was in Heaven, and afterwards precipitated to Earth, which perfectly agrees with holy History. St. Justin will have it, that Homer attain’d to the Knowledge thereof in Egypt, and that he had ev’n read what Isaiah writes, chap. 14. How art thou fal’n from Heaven, O Lucifer, Son of the Morning, how art thou cut down to the Ground which didst weaken the Nations? But our Poet could not have seen the Prophecy of Isaiah, because he liv’d 100, or 150 Years before that Prophet; and this Anteriority of Time makes this Passage the more observable. Homer therein bears authentick Witness to the Truth of the Story, of an Angel thrown from Heaven, and gives this Testimony above an 100 Years before one of the greatest Prophets spoke of it Dacier.
Note VI.
VERSE 145. To keep or send the Presents, be thy Care. ]
Achilles neither refuses nor demands Agamemnon’s Presents: The first would be too contemptuous, and the other would look too selfish. It wou’d seem as if Achilles fought only for Pay like a Mercenary, which wou’d be utterly unbecoming a Hero, and dishonourable to that Character: Homer is wonderful as to the Manners. Spond. Dac.
Note VII.
VERSE 197. The stern Aeacides replies. ]
The Greek Verse is
[Greek]
Which is repeated very frequently throughout the Iliad. It is a very just Remark of a French Critick, that what makes it so much taken notice of, is the rumbling Sound and Length of the Word [Greek]: This is so true, that if in a Poem or Romance of the same Length as the Iliad, we should repeat The Hero answer’d, full as often, we should never be sensible of that Repetition. And if we are not shock’d at the like Frequency of those Expressions in the Aeneid, sic ore refert, talia voce resert, talia dicta dabat, vix ea fatus erat, &c. it is only because the Sound of the Latin Words does not fill the Ear like that of the Greek [Greek]The Discourse of the same Critick upon these sort of Repetitions in general, deserves to be transcribed. That useless Nicety (says he) of avoiding every Repetition which the Delicacy of later Times has introduced, was not known to the first Ages of Antiquity: The Books of Moses abound with them. Far from condemning their frequent Use in the most ancient of all the Poets, we should look upon them as the certain Character of the Age in which he liv’d: They spoke so in his Time, and to have spoken otherwise had been a Fault. And indeed nothing is in itself so contrary to the true Sublime, as that painful and frivolous Exactness, with which we avoid to make use of a proper Word because it was us’d before. It is certain that the Romans were less scrupulous as to this point: You have often in a single Page of Tully, the same Word five or six times over. If it were really a Fault, it is not to be conceiv’d how an Author who so little wanted Variety of Expressions as Homer, could be so very negligent herein? On the contrary, he seems to have affected to repeat the same Things in the same Words, on many Occasions.
It was from two Principles equally true, that among several People, and in several Ages, two Practices entirely different took their Rise. Moses, Homer, and the Writers of the first Times, had found that Repetitions of the same Words recall’d the Ideas of Things, imprinted them much more strongly, and render’d the Discourse more intelligible. Upon this Principle, the Custom of repeating Words, Phrases, and even entire Speeches, insensibly establish’d itself both in Prose and in Poetry, especially in Narrations.
The Writers who succeeded them observ’d, even from Homer himself, that the greatest Beauty of Style consisted in Variety. This they made their Principle: They therefore avoided Repetitions of Words, and still more of whole Sentences; they endeavour’d to vary their Transitions; and found out new Turns and Manners of expressing the same Things.
Either of these Practices is good, but the Excess of either vicious: We should neither on the one hand, thro’ a Love of Simplicity and Clearness, continually repeat the same Words, Phrases, or Discourses; nor on the other, for the Pleasure of Variety, fall into a childish Affectation of expressing every thing twenty different Ways, tho’ it be never so natural and common.
Nothing so much cools the Warmth of a Piece or puts out the Fire of Poetry, as that perpetual Care to vary incessantly even in the smallest Circumstances. In this, as in many other Points, Homer has despis’d the ungrateful Labour of too scrupulous a Nicety. He has done like a great Painter, who does not think himself oblig’d to vary all his Pieces to that degree, as not one of ’em shall have the least Resemblance to another: If the principal Figures are entirely different, we easily excuse a Resemblance in the Landscapes, the Skies, or the Draperies. Suppose a Gallery full of Pictures, each of which represents a particular Subject: In one I see Achilles in Fury, menacing Agamemnon; in another the same Hero with regret delivers up Briseis to the Heralds; in a third ’tis still Achilles, but Achilles overcome with Grief, and lamenting to his Mother. If the Air, the Gesture, the Countenance, the Character of Achilles, are the same in each of these three Pieces; if the Ground of one of these be the same with that of the others in the Composition and general Design, whether it be Landscape, or Architecture; then indeed one should have reason to blame the Painter for the Uniformity of his Figures and Grounds. But if there be no Sameness but in the Folds of a few Draperies, in the Structure of some part of a Building, or in the Figure of some Tree, Mountain, or Cloud, it is what no one would regard as a Fault. The Application is obvious: Homer repeats, but they are not the great Strokes which he repeats, not those which strike and fix our Attention: They are only the little Parts, the Transitions, the general Circumstances, or familiar Images, which recur naturally, and upon which the Reader but casts his Eye carelesly: Such as the Descriptions of Sacrifices, Repasts, or Embarquements; such in short, as are in their own Nature much the same, which it is sufficient just to shew, and which are in a manner incapable of different Ornaments.
Note VIII.
VERSE 159. Strength is deriv’d from Spirits, &c.]
This Advice of Ulysses that the Troops shou’d refresh themselves with Eating and Drinking, was extremely necessary, after a Battel of so long Continuance as that of the Day before: And Achilles’s Desire that they shou’d charge the Enemy immediately, without any Reflection on the Necessity of that Refreshment, was also highly natural to his violent Character. This forces Ulysses to repeat that Advice, and insist upon it so much: Which these Criticks did not see into, who thro’ a false Delicacy are shock’d at his insisting so warmly on Eating and Drinking. Indeed to a common Reader who is more fond of heroick and romantick, than of just and natural Images, this at first sight may have an Air of Ridicule; but I’ll venture to say there is nothing ridiculous in the Thing itself, nor mean and low in Homer’s manner of expressing it: And I believe the same of this Translation, tho’ I have not soften’d or abated of the Idea they are so offended with.
Note IX.
VERSE 209. Pale lies my Friend, &c.]
It is in the Greek, lies extended in my Tent with his Face turned towards the Door, [Greek], that is to say, as the Scholiast has explain’d it, having his Feet turned towards the Door. For it was thus the Greeks placed their Dead in the Porches of their Houses, as likewise in Italy,
In portam rigidos calces extendit. Persius.
—Recepitque ad limina gressum Corpus ubi exanimi positum Pallantis Acetes Servabat Senior—
Thus we are told by Suetonius, of the Body of Augustus—Equester ordo suscepit, urbique intulit, atque in Vestibulo domus collocavit.
Note X.
VERSE 221. Tho’ vast the Heaps, &c.]
Ulysses’s Expression in the Original is very remarkable; he calls [Greek]Straw or Chaff, such as are kill’d in the Battel; and he calls [Greek], the Crop, such as make their Escape. This is very conformable to the Language of Holy Scripture, wherein those who perish are called Chaff, and those who are saved are call’d Corn. Dacier.
Note XI.
VERSE 237. —None shall dare Expect a second Summons to the War. ]
This is very artful; Ulysses, to prevail upon Achilles to let the Troops take Repast, and yet in some sort to second his impatience, gives with the same Breath Orders for Battel, by commanding the Troops to march, and expect no farther Orders. Thus tho’ the Troops go to take Repast, it looks as if they do not lose a moment’s time, but are going to put themselves in Array of Battel. Dacier.
Note XII.
VERSE 280. Rolls the Victim into the Main. ]
For it was not lawful to eat the Flesh of the Victims, that were sacrificed in Confirmation of Oaths; such were Victims of Malediction. Eustathius.
Note XIII.
VERSE 281. Hear ye Greeks, &c.]
Achilles, to let them see that he is entirely appeas’d, justifies Agamemnon himself, and enters into the Reasons with which that Prince had colour’d his Fault. But in that Justification he perfectly well preserves his Character, and illustrates the Advantage he has over that King who offended him. Dacier.
Note XIV.
VERSE 303, &c. The Lamentation of Briseis over Patroclus.]
This Speech (says Dionysius of Halicarnassus ) is not without its Artifice: While Briseis seems only to be deploring Patroclus, she represents to Achilles who stands by, the Breach of the Promises he had made her, and upbraids him with the Neglect he had been guilty of in resigning her up to Agamemnon. He adds, that Achilles hereupon acknowledges the Justice of her Complaint, and makes answer that his Promises should be performed: It was a slip in that great Critick’s Memory, for the Verse he cites is not in this Part of the Author, [ [Greek], Part 2.]
Note XV.
VERSE 315. Achilles Care you promis’d, &c.]
In these Days when our Manners are so different from those of the Ancients, and we see none of those dismal Catastrophes which laid whole Kingdoms waste and subjected Princesses and Queens to the Power of the Conqueror; it will perhaps seem astonishing, that a Princess of Briseis’s Birth, the very Day that her Father, Brothers, and Husband were kill’d by Achilles, should suffer her self to be comforted and even flatter’d with the Hopes of becoming the Spouse of their Murderer. But such were the Manners of those Times, as ancient History testifies: And a Poet represents them as they were; But if there was a Necessary for justifying them, it might be said that Slavery was at that time so terrible, that in truth a Princess like Briseis was pardonable, to chuse rather to become Achilles’s Wife than his Slave. Dacier.
Note XVI.
VERSE 322. Nor mourn’d Patroclus Fortunes but their own. ]
Homer adds this Touch, to heighten the Character of Briseis, and to shew the Difference there was between her and the other Captives. Briseis, as a well-born Princess, really bewail’d Patroclus out of Gratitude; but the others, by pretending to bewail him, wept only out of Interest. Dacier.
Note XVII.
VERSE 335. Thou too Patroclus, &c.]
This Lamentation is finely introduced: While the Generals are persuading him to take some Refreshment, it naturally awakens in his Mind the Remembrance of Patroclus, who had so often brought him Food every Morning before they went to Battel: This is very natural, and admirably well conceals the Art of drawing the Subject of his Discourse from the things that present themselves. Spondanus.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 351. I hop’d, Patroclus might survive, &c.]
Patroclu was young, and Achilles who had but a short time to lives hoped that after his Death his dear Friend wou’d be as a Father to his Son, and put him into the Possession of his Kingdom: Neoptolemus wou’d in Patroclus find Peleus and Achilles; whereas when Patroclus was dead, he must be an Orphan indeed. Homer is particularly admirable for the Sentiments, and always follows Nature. Dacier.
Note XIX.
VERSE 384. So Helms succeeding Helms, so Shields from Shields Catch the quick Beams, and brighten all the Fields. ]
It is probable the Reader may think the Words, shining, splendid, and others deriv’d from the Lustre of Arms, too frequent in these Books. My Author is to answer for it, but it may be alledg’d in his Excuse, that when it was the Custom for every Soldier to serve in Armour, and when those Arms were of Brass before the Use of Iron became common, these Image of Lustre were less avoidable, and more necessarily frequent in Descriptions of this nature.
Note XX.
VERSE 398. Achilles arming himself, &c.]
There is a wonderful Pomp in this Description of Achilles’s arming himself; every Reader without being pointed to it, will see the extreme Grandeur of all these Images; But what is particular, is, in what a noble Scale they rise one above another, and how the Hero is set still in a stronger Point of Light than before; till he is at last in a manner cover’d over with Glories: He is at first likened to the Moonlight, then to the Flames of a Beacon, then to a Comet, and lastly to the Sun it self.
Note XXI.
VERSE 450. Then (strange to tell! so Juno will’d) he broke Eternal Silence, and portentous spoke. ]
It is remark’d, in excuse of this extravagant Fiction of a Horse speaking, that Homer was authorized herein by Fable, Tradition, and History. Livy makes mention of two Oxen that spoke on different occasions, and recites the Speech of one, which was, Roma cave tibi. Pliny tells us, these Animals were particularly gifted this way, l. 8. c. 45. Est frequens in prodigiis priscorum, bovem locutum. Besides Homer had prepar’d us for expecting something miraculous from these Horses of Achilles, by representing them to be immortal. We have seen ’em already sensible, and weeping at the Death of Patroclus: And we must add to all this, that a Goddess is concern’d in working this Wonder: It is Juno that does it. Oppian alludes to this in a beautiful Passage of his first Book: Not having the Original by me, I shall quote (what I believe is no less beautiful) Mr. Fenton’s Translation of it.
Of all the prone Creation, none display A friendlier Sense of Man’s superior Sway: Some in the silent Pomp of Grief complain, For the brave Chief, by doom of Battel slain: And when young Peleus in his rapid Car Rush’d on, to rouze the Thunder of the War, With human Voice inspir’d, his Steed deplor’d The Fate impending dreadful o’er his Lord. Cyneg. lib. 1.
Spondanus and Dacier fail not to bring up Balaam’s Ass on this Occasion. But methinks the Commentators are at too much pains to discharge the Poet from the Imputation of extravagant Fiction, by accounting for Wonders of this kind: I am afraid, that next to the Extravagance of inventing them, is that of endeavouring to reconcile such Fictions to Probability. Would not one general Answer do better, to say once for all, that the abovecited Authors liv’d in the Age of Wonders: The Taste of the World has been generally turn’d to the Miraculous; Wonders were what the People would have, and what not only the Poets, but the Priests, gave ’em.
Note XXII.
VERSE 464. Then ceas’d for ever, by the Furies ty’d, His fate-ful Voice—
The Poet had offended against Probability if he had made Juno take away the Voice, for Juno (which signifies the Air) is the cause of the Voice. Besides, the Poet was willing to intimate that the Privation of the Voice is a thing so dismal and melancholy, that none but the Furies can take upon them so cruel an Employment. Eustathius.
Book XX THE TWENTIETH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
JUPITER upon Achilles’s returning to the Battel, calls a Council of the Gods, and permits them to assist either Party. The Terrors of the Combate describ’d, when the Deities are engag’d. Apollo encourages Aeneas to meet Achilles. After a long Conversation, these two Heroes encounter; but Aeneas is preserv’d by the Assistance of Neptune. Achilles falls upon the rest of the Trojans, and is upon the point of killing Hector, but Apollo conveys him away in a Cloud. Achilles pursues the Trojans with a great Slaughter. The same Day continues. The Scene is in the Field before Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-42] Jupiter's Council: The Gods Unleashed
- [43-62] The Gods Take Sides for Battle
- [63-102] The Earth Shakes as Gods Engage
- [103-141] Apollo Goads Aeneas to Fight Achilles
- [142-187] The Gods Debate Aeneas's Challenge
- [188-239] Achilles Taunts Aeneas
- [240-307] Aeneas Recounts His Trojan Lineage
- [308-339] The Duel Between Achilles and Aeneas Begins
- [340-366] Neptune Argues for Aeneas's Survival
- [367-400] Neptune Rescues Aeneas from Achilles
- [401-414] Achilles Rallies the Greeks
- [415-436] Hector Is Warned by Apollo
- [437-484] Achilles Slays Iphytion and Polydorus
- [485-514] Hector Confronts Achilles and Is Saved by Apollo
- [515-590] Achilles's Unstoppable Slaughter
THUS round Pelides breathing and Blood,
Greece sheath’d in Arms, beside her Vessels stood;
While near impending from a neighb’ring Height,
Troy’s black Battalions wait the Shock of Fight.
Then Jove to Themis gives Command, to call
The Gods to Council in the starry Hall:
Swift o’er Olympus hundred Hills she flies,
And summons all the Senate of the Skies.
These shining on, in long Procession come
To Joves eternal Adamantine Dome.
Not one was absent; not a Rural Pow’r
That haunts the verdant Gloom, or rosy Bow’r,
Each fair-hair’d Dryad of the shady Wood,
Each azure Sister of the silver Flood;
All but old Ocean, hoary Sire! who keeps
His ancient Seat beneath the sacred Deeps.
On Marble Thrones with lucid Columns crown’d,
(The Work of Vulcan ) sate the Gods around.
Ev’n He whose Trident sways the watry Reign,
Heard the loud Summons, and forsook the Main,
Assum’d his Throne amid the bright Abodes,
And question’d thus the Sire of Men and Gods.
What moves the God who Heav’n and Earth commands,
And grasps the Thunder in his awful Hands,
Thus to convene the whole aetherial State?
Is Greece and Troy the Subject in debate?
Already met, the low’ring Hosts appear,
And Death stands ardent on the Edge of War.
’Tis true (the Cloud-compelling Pow’r replies)
This Day, we call the Council of the Skies
In Care of human Race; ev’n Jove’s own Eye
Sees with Regret unhappy Mortals die.
Far on Olympus’ Top in secret State
Ourself will sit, and see the Hand of Fate
Work out our Will. Celestial Pow’rs! descend,
And as your Minds direct, your Succour lend
To either Host. Troy soon must lye o’erthrown,
If uncontroll’d Achilles fights alone:
Their Troops but lately durst not meet his Eyes;
What can they now, if in his Rage he rise?
Assist them Gods! or Ilion’s sacred Wall
May fall this Day, tho’ Fate forbids the Fall.
He said, and fir’d their heav’nly Breasts with Rage:
On adverse Parts the warring Gods engage.
Heav’ns awful Queen; and He whose azure Round
Girds the vast Globe; the Maid in Arms renown’d;
Hermes, of profitable Arts the Sire,
And Vulcan, the black Sov’reign of the Fire:
These to the Fleet repair with instant Flight,
The Vessels tremble as the Gods alight.
50In aid of Troy, Latona, Phoebus came,
Mars fiery-helm’d, the Laughter-loving Dame,
Xanthus whose Streams in golden Currents flow,
And the chast Huntress of the silver Bow.
E’er yet the Gods their various Aid employ,
Each Argive Bosom swell’d with manly Joy,
While great Achilles, (Terror of the Plain)
Long lost to Battel, shone in Arms again.
Dreadful he stood in Front of all his Host;
Pale Troy beheld, and seem’d already lost;
Her bravest Heroes pant with inward Fear,
And trembling see another God of War.
But when the Pow’rs descending swell’d the Fight,
Then Tumult rose; fierce Rage and pale Affright
Vary’d each Face; then Discord sounds Alarms,
Earth echoes, and the Nations rush to Arms.
Now thro’ the trembling Shores Minerva calls.
And now she thunders from the Grecian Walls.
Mars hov’ring o’er his Troy, his Terror shrouds
In gloomy Tempests, and a Night of Clouds:
Now thro’ each Trojan Heart he Fury pours
With Voice divine from Ilion’s topmost Towr’s,
Now shouts to Simois, from her beauteous * Hill;
The Mountain shook, the rapid Stream stood still.
Above, the Sire of Gods his Thunder rolls,
And Peals on Peals redoubled rend the Poles.
Beneath, stern Neptune shakes the solid Ground,
The Forests wave, the Mountains nod around;
Thro’ all their Summits tremble Ida’s Woods,
And from their Sources boil her hundred Floods.
Troy’s Turrets totter on the rocking Plain;
And the toss’d Navies beat the heaving Main.
Deep in the dismal Regions of the Dead,
Th’infernal Monarch rear’d his horrid Head,
Leap’d from his Throne, lest Neptunes Arm should lay
His dark Dominions open to the Day,
And pour in Light on Pluto’s drear Abodes,
Abhorr’d by Men, and dreadful ev’n to Gods.
Such War th’Immortals wage: Such Horrors rend
The World’s vast Concave, when the Gods contend.
First silver-shafted Phoebus took the Plain
Against blue Neptune, Monarch of the Main:
The God of Arms his Giant Bulk display’d,
Oppos’d to Pallas, War’s triumphant Maid.
Against Latona march’d the Son of May;
The quiver’d Dian, Sister of the Day,
(Her golden Arrows sounding at her side)
Saturnia, Majesty of Heav’n, defy’d.
With fiery Vulcan last in Battle stands
The sacred Flood that rolls on golden Sands;
100Xanthus his Name with those of heavenly Birth,
But call’d Scamander by the Sons of Earth.
While thus the Gods in various League engage,
Achilles glow’d with more than mortal Rage:
Hector he sought; in search of Hector turn’d
His Eyes around, for Hector only burn’d;
And burst like Light’ning thro’ the Ranks, and vow’d
To glut the God of Battles with his Blood.
Aeneas was the first who dar’d to stay;
Apollo wedg’d him in the Warrior’s Way,
But swell’d his Bosom with undaunted Might,
Half-forc’d, and half-persuaded to the Fight.
Like young Lycaon, of the Royal Line,
In Voice and Aspect, seem’d the Pow’r divine;
And bade the Chief reflect, how late with Scorn
In distant Threats he brav’d the Goddess-born.
Then thus the Hero of Anchises’ Strain.
To meet Pelides you persuade in vain:
Already have I met, nor void of Fear
Observ’d the Fury of his flying Spear;
From Ida’s Woods he chas’d us to the Field,
Our Force he scatter’d, and our Herds he kill’d;
Lyrnessus, Pedasus in Ashes lay;
But ( Jove assisting) I surviv’d the Day.
Else had I sunk opprest in fatal Fight,
By fierce Achilles and Minerva’s Might.
Where’ere he mov’d, the Goddess shone before,
And bath’d his brazen Lance in hostile Gore.
What mortal Man Achilles can sustain?
Th’Immortals guard him thro’ the dreadful Plain,
And suffer not his Dart to fall in vain.
Were God my Aid, this Arm should check his Pow’r,
Tho’ strong in Battel as a brazen Tow’r.
To whom the Son of Jove, That God implore,
And be, what great Achilles was before.
From heav’nly Venus thou deriv’st thy Strain,
And he, but from a Sister of the Main;
An aged Sea-God, Father of his Line,
But Jove himself the sacred Source of thine.
Then lift thy Weapon for a noble Blow,
Nor fear the vaunting of a mortal Foe.
This said, and Spirit breath’d into his Breast,
Thro’ the thick Troops th’embolden’d Hero prest:
His vent’rous Act the white-arm’d Queen survey’d,
And thus, assembling all the Pow’rs, she said.
Behold an Action, Gods! that claims your Care,
Lo great Aeneas rushing to the War;
Against Pelides he directs his Course,
Phoebus impells, and Phoebus gives him Force.
Restrain his bold Career; at least, t’attend
150Our favour’d Hero, let some Pow’r descend.
To guard his Life, and add to his Renown,
We, the great Armament of Heav’n came down.
Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design,
That spun so short his Life’s illustrious Line:
But lest some adverse God now cross his Way,
Give him to know, what Pow’rs assist this Day:
For how shall Mortal stand the dire Alarms,
When Heav’ns refulgent Host appear in Arms?
Thus she, and thus the God whose Force can make
The solid Globe’s eternal Basis shake.
Against the Might of Man, so feeble known,
Why shou’d coelestial Pow’rs exert their own?
Suffice, from yonder Mount to view the Scene;
And leave to War the Fates of mortal Men.
But if th’ Armipotent, or God of Light,
Obstruct Achilles, or commence the Fight,
Thence on the Gods of Troy we swift descend:
Full soon, I doubt not, shall the Conflict end,
And these, in Ruin and Confusion hurl’d,
Yield to our conqu’ring Arms the lower World.
Thus having said, the Tyrant of the Sea
Coerulean Neptune, rose, and led the Way.
Advanc’d upon the Field there stood a Mound
Of Earth congested, wall’d, and trench’d around;
In elder Times to guard Alcides made,
(The Work of Trojans, with Minerva’s Aid)
What-time, a vengeful Monster of the Main
Swept the wide Shore, and drove him to the Plain.
Here Neptune, and the Gods of Greece repair,
With Clouds encompass’d, and a Veil of Air:
The adverse Pow’rs, around Apollo laid,
Crown the fair Hills that silver Simois shade.
In Circle close each heav’nly Party sate,
Intent to form the future Scheme of Fate;
But mix not yet in Fight, tho’ Jove on high
Gives the loud signal, and the Heav’ns reply.
Meanwhile the rushing Armies hide the Ground;
The trampled Center yields a hollow Sound:
Steeds cas’d in Mail, and Chiefs in Armour bright,
The gleamy Champain glows with brazen Light.
Amid both Hosts (a dreadful Space) appear
There, great Achilles, bold Aeneas here.
With tow’ring Strides Aeneas first advanc’d;
The nodding Plumage on his Helmet danc’d,
Spread o’er his Breast the fencing Shield he bore,
And, as he mov’d, his Jav’lin flam’d before.
Not so Pelides; furious to engage,
He rush’d impetuous. Such the Lion’s Rage,
Who viewing first his Foes with scornful Eyes,
200Tho’ all in Arms the peopled City rise,
Stalks careless on, with unregarding Pride;
Till at the length, by some brave Youth defy’d,
To His bold Spear the Savage turns alone,
He murmurs Fury with an hollow Groan;
He grins, he foams, he rolls his Eyes around;
Lash’d by his Tail his heaving sides resound;
He calls up all his Rage; he grinds his Teeth,
Resolv’d on Vengeance, or resolv’d on Death.
So fierce Achilles on Aeneas flies;
So stands Aeneas, and his Force defies.
E’er yet the stern Encounter join’d, begun
The Seed of Thetis thus to Venus’ Son.
Why comes Aeneas thro’ the Ranks so far?
Seeks he to meet Achilles’ Arm in War,
In hope the Realms of Priam to enjoy,
And prove his Merits to the Throne of Troy?
Grant that beneath thy Lance Achilles dies,
The partial Monarch may refuse the Prize;
Sons he has many, those thy Pride may quell;
And ’tis his Fault to love those Sons too well.
Or, in reward of thy victorious Hand,
Has Troy propos’d some spacious Tract of Land?
An ample Forest, or a fair Domain,
Of Hills for Vines, and Arable for Grain?
Ev’n this, perhaps, will hardly prove thy Lot:
But can Achilles be so soon forgot?
Once (as I think) you saw this brandish’d Spear
And then the great Aeneas seem’d to fear.
With hearty Haste from Ida’s Mount he fled,
Nor, till he reach’d Lyrnessus, turn’d his Head.
Her lofty Walls not long our Progress stay’d;
Those, Pallas, Jove, and We, in Ruins laid:
In Grecian Chains her captive Race were cast;
’Tis true, the great Aeneas fled too fast.
Defrauded of my Conquest once before,
What then I lost, the Gods this Day restore.
Go; while thou may’st, avoid the threaten’d Fate;
Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late.
To this Anchises’ Son. Such Words employ
To one that fears thee, some unwarlike Boy:
Such we disdain; the best may be defy’d
With mean Reproaches, and unmanly Pride:
Unworthy the high Race from which we came,
Proclaim’d so loudly by the Voice of Fame,
Each from illustrious Fathers draws his Line;
Each Goddess-born; half human, half divine.
Thetis’ this Day, or Venus’ Offspring dies,
And Tears shall trickle from coelestial Eyes:
For when two Heroes, thus deriv’d, contend,
250’Tis not in Words the glorious strife can end.
If yet thou farther seek to learn my Birth
(A Tale resounded thro’ the spacious Earth)
Hear how the glorious Origine we prove
From ancient Dardanus, the first from Jove:
Dardania’s Walls he rais’d; for Ilion, then,
(The City since of many-languag’d Men)
Was not. The Natives were content to till
The shady Foot of Ida’s Fount-ful Hill.
From Dardanus, great Erichthonius springs,
The richest, once, of Asia’s wealthy Kings;
Three thousand Mares his spacious Pastures bred,
Three thousand Foals beside their Mothers fed.
Boreas, enamour’d of the sprightly Train,
Conceal’d his Godhead in a flowing Mane,
With Voice dissembled to his Loves he neigh’d,
And cours’d the dappled Beauties o’er the Mead:
Hence sprung twelve others of unrival’d Kind,
Swift as their Mother Mares, and Father Wind.
These lightly skimming, when they swept the Plain,
Nor ply’d the Grass, nor bent the tender Grain;
And when along the level Seas they flew,
Scarce on the Surface curl’d the briny Dew.
Such Erichthonius was: From him there came
The sacred Tros, of whom the Trojan Name.
Three Sons renown’d adorn’d his nuptial Bed,
Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymed:
The matchless Ganymed, divinely fair,
Whom Heaven enamour’d snatch’d to upper Air,
To bear the Cup of Jove (Aetherial Guest)
The Grace and Glory of th’Ambrosial Feast.
The two remaining Sons the Line divide:
First rose Laomedon from Ilus’ Side;
From him Tithonus, now in Cares grown old,
And Priam, (blest with Hector, brave and bold:)
Clytius and Lampus, ever-honour’d Pair;
And Hicetaon, Thunderbolt of War.
From great Assaracus sprung Capys, He
Begat Anchises, and Anchises me.
Such is our Race: ’Tis Fortune gives us Birth,
But Jove alone endues the Soul with Worth:
He, Source of Pow’r and Might! with boundless Sway,
All human Courage, gives, or takes away.
Long in the Field of Words we may contend,
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end,
Arm’d or with Truth or Falshood, Right or Wrong,
So voluble a Weapon is the Tongue;
Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail,
For ev’ry Man has equal Strength to rail:
Women alone, when in the Streets they jar,
300Perhaps excel us in this wordy War;
Like us they stand, encompass’d with the Crowd,
And vent their Anger, impotent and loud.
Cease then—Our Business in the Field of Fight
Is not to question, but to prove our Might.
To all those Insults thou hast offer’d here,
Receive this Answer: ’Tis my flying Spear.
He spoke. With all his Force the Jav’lin flung,
Fix’d deep, and loudly in the Buckler rung.
Far on his out-stretch’d Arm, Pelides held
(To meet the thund’ring Lance) his dreadful Shield,
That trembled as it stuck; nor void of Fear
Saw, e’er it fell, th’immeasurable Spear.
His Fears were vain; impenetrable Charms
Secur’d the Temper of th’Aetherial Arms.
Thro’ two strong Plates the Point its Passage held,
But stopp’d, and rested, by the third repell’d;
Five Plates of various Metal, various Mold,
Compos’d the Shield; of Brass each outward Fold,
Of Tin each inward, and the middle Gold:
There stuck the Lance. Then rising e’er he threw,
The forceful Spear of great Achilles flew,
And pierc’d the Dardan Shield’s extremest Bound,
Where the shrill Brass return’d a sharper Sound:
Thro’ the thin Verge the Pelian Weapon glides,
And the slight Cov’ring of expanded Hydes.
Aeneas his contracted Body bends,
And o’er him high the riven Targe extends,
Sees, thro’ its parting Plates, the upper Air,
And at his Back perceives the quiv’ring Spear:
A Fate so near him, chills his Soul with Fright,
And swims before his Eyes the many-colour’d Light.
Achilles, rushing in with dreadful Cries,
Draws his broad Blade, and at Aeneas flies:
Aeneas rouzing as the Foe came on,
(With Force collected) heaves a mighty Stone:
A Mass enormous! which in modern Days
No two of Earth’s degen’rate Sons could raise
But Ocean’s God, whose Earthquakes rock the Ground,
Saw the Distress, and mov’d the Pow’rs around.
Lo! on the Brink of Fate Aeneas stands,
An instant Victim to Achilles Hands:
By Phoebus urg’d; but Phoebus has bestow’d
His Aid in vain: The Man o’erpow’rs the God.
And can ye see this righteous Chief attone
With guiltless Blood, for Vices not his own?
To all the Gods his constant Vows were paid;
Sure, tho’ he wars for Troy, he claims our Aid.
Fate wills not this; nor thus can Jove resign
The future Father of the Dardan Line:
350The first great Ancestor obtain’d his Grace,
And still his Love descends on all the Race.
For Priam now, and Priam’s faithless Kind,
At length are odious to th’all-seeing Mind;
On great Aeneas shall devolve the Reign,
And Sons succeeding Sons, the lasting Line sustain.
The great Earth-shaker thus: To whom replies
Th’Imperial Goddess with the radiant Eyes.
Good as he is, to immolate or spare
The Dardan Prince, O Neptune, be thy Care;
Pallas and I, by all that Gods can bind,
Have sworn Destruction to the Trojan Kind;
Not ev’n an Instant to protract their Fate,
Or save one Member of the sinking State;
Till her last Flame be quench’d with her last Gore,
And ev’n her crumbling Ruins are no more.
The King of Ocean to the Fight descends,
Thro’ all the whistling Darts his Course he bends,
Swift interpos’d between the Warriors flies,
And casts thick Darkness o’er Achilles’ Eyes.
From great Aeneas’ Shield the Spear he drew,
And at its Master’s Feet the Weapon threw.
That done, with Force divine, he snatch’d on high
The Dardan Prince, and bore him thro’ the Sky,
Smooth-gliding without Step, above the Heads,
Of warring Heroes, and of bounding Steeds.
Till at the Battel’s utmost Verge they light,
Where the slow Caucons close the Rear of Fight.
The Godhead there (his heav’nly Form confess’d)
With Words like these the panting Chief address’d.
What Pow’r, O Prince, with Force inferior far,
Urg’d thee to meet Achilles’ Arm in War?
Henceforth beware, nor antedate thy Doom,
Defrauding Fate of all thy Fame to come.
But when the Day decreed (for come it must)
Shall lay this dreadful Hero in the Dust,
Let then the Furies of that Arm be known,
Secure, no Grecian Force transcends thy own.
With that, he left him wond’ring as he lay,
Then from Achilles chas’d the Mist away:
Sudden, returning with the Stream of Light,
The Scene of War came rushing on his Sight.
Then thus, amaz’d: What Wonders strike my Mind!
My Spear, that parted on the Wings of Wind,
Laid here before me! and the Dardan Lord
That fell this instant, vanish’d from my Sword!
I thought alone with Mortals to contend,
But Pow’rs coelestial sure this Foe defend.
Great as he is, our Arm he scarce will try,
Content for once, with all his Gods, to fly.
400Now then let others bleed—This said, aloud
He vents his Fury, and inflames the Crowd.
O Greeks (he cries, and every Rank alarms)
Join Battel, Man to Man, and Arms to Arms!
’Tis not in me, tho’ favour’d by the Sky,
To mow whole Troops, and make whole Armies fly:
No God can singly such a Host engage,
Not Mars himself, nor great Minerva’s Rage.
But whatsoe’er Achilles can inspire,
Whate’er of active Force, or acting Fire,
Whate’er this Heart can prompt, or Hand obey;
All, all Achilles, Greeks! is yours to Day.
Thro’ yon wide Host this Arm shall scatter Fear,
And thin the Squadrons with my single Spear.
He said: Nor less elate with martial Joy,
The god-like Hector warm’d the Troops of Troy.
Trojans to War! Think Hector leads you on;
Nor dread the Vaunts of Peleus’ haughty Son;
Deeds must decide our Fate. Ev’n those with Words
Insult the Brave, who tremble at their Swords:
The weakest Atheist-Wretch all Heav’n defies,
But shrinks and shudders, when the Thunder flies.
Nor from yon’ Boaster shall your Chief retire,
Not tho’ his Heart were Steel, his Hands were Fire;
That Fire, that Steel, your Hector shou’d withstand,
And brave that vengeful Heart, that dreadful Hand.
Thus, breathing Rage thro’ all the Hero said;
A Wood of Lances rises round his Head,
Clamors on Clamors tempest all the Air,
They join, they throng, they thicken to the War.
But Phoebus warns him from high Heav’n, to shun
The single Fight with Thetis’ god-like Son;
More safe to combate in the mingled Band,
Nor tempt too near the Terrors of his Hand.
He hears, obedient to the God of Light,
And plung’d within the Ranks, awaits the Fight.
Then fierce Achilles, shouting to the Skies,
On Troy’s whole Force with boundless Fury flies.
First falls Iphytion, at his Army’s Head;
Brave was the Chief, and brave the Host he led;
From great Otrynteus he deriv’d his Blood,
His Mother was a Nais of the Flood;
Beneath the Shades of Tmolus, crown’d with Snow,
From Hyde’s Walls, he rul’d the Lands below.
Fierce as he springs, the Sword his Head divides;
The parted Visage falls on equal Sides:
With loud-resounding Arms he strikes the Plain;
While thus Achilles glories o’er the Slain.
Lye there Otryntides! the Trojan Earth
Receives thee dead, tho’ Gygae boast thy Birth;
450Those beauteous Fields where Hyllus’ Waves are roll’d,
And plenteous Hermus swells with Tides of Gold,
Are thine no more—Th’insulting Hero said,
And left him sleeping in Eternal Shade.
The rolling Wheels of Greece the Body tore,
And dash’d their Axles with no vulgar Gore.
Demoleon next, Antenor’s Offspring, laid
Breathless in Dust, the Price of Rashness paid.
Th’impatient Steel with full-descending Sway
Forc’d thro’ his brazen Helm its furious Way,
Resistless drove the batter’d Skull before,
And dash’d and mingled all the Brains with Gore.
This sees Hippodamas, and seiz’d with Fright,
Deserts his Chariot for a swifter Flight:
The Lance arrests him: an ignoble Wound
The panting Trojan rivets to the Ground.
He groans away his Soul: Not louder roars
At Neptunes Shrine on Helice’s high Shores
The Victim Bull; the Rocks rebellow round,
And Ocean listens to the grateful Sound.
Then fell on Polydore his vengeful Rage,
The youngest Hope of Priam’s stooping Age:
(Whose Feet for Swiftness in the Race surpast)
Of all his Sons, the dearest, and the last.
To the forbidden Field he takes his Flight
In the first Folly of a youthful Knight,
To vaunt his Swiftness, wheels around the Plain,
But vaunts not long, with all his Swiftness slain.
Struck where the crossing Belts unite behind,
And golden Rings the double Back-plate join’d:
Forth thro’ the Navel burst the thrilling Steel;
And on his Knees with piercing Shrieks he fell;
The rushing Entrails pour’d upon the Ground
His Hands collect; and Darkness wraps him round.
When Hector view’d, all ghastly in his Gore
Thus sadly slain, th’unhappy Polydore;
A Cloud of Sorrow overcast his Sight,
His Soul no longer brook’d the distant Fight,
Full in Achilles’ dreadful Front he came,
And shook his Jav’lin like a waving Flame.
The Son of Peleus sees, with Joy possest,
His Heart high-bounding in his rising Breast:
And, lo! the Man, on whom black Fates attend;
The Man, that slew Achilles, in his Friend!
No more shall Hector’s and Pelides’ Spear
Turn from each other in the Walks of War—
Then with revengeful Eyes he scan’d him o’er:
Come, and receive thy Fate! He spake no more.
Hector, undaunted, thus. Such Words employ
To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike Boy:
500Such we could give, defying and defy’d,
Mean Intercourse of Obloquy and Pride!
I know thy Force to mine superior far;
But Heav’n alone confers Success in War:
Mean as I am, the Gods may guide my Dart,
And give it Entrance in a braver Heart.
Then parts the Lance: But Pallas’ heav’nly Breath,
Far from Achilles wafts the winged Death:
The bidden Dart again to Hector flies,
And at the Feet of its great Master lies.
Achilles closes with his hated Foe,
His Heart and Eyes with flaming Fury glow:
But present to his Aid, Apollo shrouds
The favour’d Hero in a Veil of Clouds.
Thrice struck Pelides with indignant Heart,
Thrice in impassive Air he plung’d the Dart:
The Spear a fourth time bury’d in the Cloud,
He foams with Fury, and exclaims aloud.
Wretch! Thou hast scap’d again. Once more thy Flight
Has sav’d thee, and the partial God of Light.
But long thou shalt not thy just Fate withstand,
If any Pow’r assist Achilles’ Hand.
Fly then inglorious! But thy Flight this Day
Whole Hecatombs of Trojan Ghosts shall pay.
With that, he gluts his Rage on Numbers slain:
Then Dryops tumbled to th’ensanguin’d Plain,
Pierc’d thro’ the Neck: He left him panting there,
And stopp’d Demuchus, great Philetor’s Heir,
Gigantic Chief! Deep gash’d th’enormous Blade,
And for the Soul an ample Passage made.
Laogonus and Dardanus expire,
The valiant Sons of an unhappy Sire;
Both in one Instant from the Chariot hurl’d,
Sunk in one Instant to the nether World;
This Diff’rence only their sad Fates afford,
That one the Spear destroy’d, and one the Sword.
Nor less unpity’d young Alastor bleeds;
In vain his Youth, in vain his Beauty pleads:
In vain he begs thee with a Suppliant’s Moan,
To spare a Form, and Age so like thy own!
Unhappy Boy! no Pray’r, no moving Art
E’er bent that fierce, inexorable Heart!
While yet he trembled at his Knees, and cry’d,
The ruthless Falchion op’d his tender Side;
The panting Liver pours a Flood of Gore,
That drowns his Bosom, till he pants no more.
Thro’ Mulius’ Head then drove th’impetuous Spear,
The Warrior falls, transfix’d from Ear to Ear.
Thy Life Echeclus! next the Sword bereaves,
Deep thro’ his Front the pond’rous Falchion cleaves;
550Warm’d in the Brain the smoaking Weapon lies,
The purple Death comes floating o’er his Eyes,
Then brave Deucalion dy’d: The Dart was flung
Where the knit Nerves the plaint Elbow strung;
He dropp’d his Arm, an unassisting Weight,
And stood all impotent, expecting Fate:
Full on his Neck the falling Falchion sped,
From his broad Shoulders hew’d his crested Head:
Forth from the Bone the spinal Marrow flies,
And sunk in Dust, the Corps extended lies.
Rhigmus, whose Race from fruitful Thracia came,
(The Son of Pireus, an illustrious Name,)
Succeeds to Fate: The Spear his Belly rends;
Prone from his Car the thund’ring Chief descends,
The Squire who saw expiring on the Ground
His prostrate Master, rein’d the Steeds around;
His Back scarce turn’d, the Pelian Jav’lin gor’d;
And stretch’d the Servant o’er his dying Lord.
As when a Flame the winding Valley fills,
And runs on crackling Shrubs between the Hills;
Then o’er the Stubble up the Mountain flies,
Fires the high Woods, and blazes to the Skies,
This way and that, the spreading Torrent roars;
So sweeps the Hero thro’ the wasted Shores;
Around him wide, immense Destruction pours,
And Earth is delug’d with the sanguine Show’rs.
As with Autumnal Harvests cover’d o’er,
And thick bestrown, lies Ceres’ sacred Floor,
When round and round with never-weary’d Pain,
The trampling Steers beat out th’unnumber’d Grain.
So the fierce Coursers, as the Chariot rolls,
Tread down whole Ranks, and crush out Hero’s Souls.
Dash’d from their Hoofs while o’er the Dead they fly,
Black bloody Drops the smoaking Chariot die:
The spiky Wheels thro’ Heaps of Carnage tore;
And thick the groaning Axles dropp’d with Gore.
High o’er the Scene of Death Achilles stood,
All grim with Dust, all horrible in Blood:
Yet still insatiate, still with Rage on flame;
Such is the Lust of never-dying Fame!
Observations on the 20th Book
Notes Index
Note I.
VERSE 5. Then Jove to Themis gives Command, &c.]
The Poet is now to bring his Hero again into Action, and he introduces him with the utmost Pomp and Grandeur: The Gods are assembled only upon this account, and Jupiter permits several Deities to join with the Trojans, and hinder Achilles from over-ruling Destiny itself.
The Circumstance of sending Themis to assemble the Gods is very beautiful; she is the Goddess of Justice; the Trojans by the Rape of Helen, and by repeated Perjuries having broken her Laws, she is the properest Messenger to summon a Synod to bring them to punishment. Eustathius. Proclus has given a farther Explanation of this. Themis or Justice (says he) is made to assemble the Gods round Jupiter, because it is from him that all the Powers of Nature take their Virtue, and receive their Orders; and Jupiter sends them to the Relief of both Parties, to shew that nothing falls out but by his Permission, and that neither Angels, nor Men, nor the Elements, act but according to the Power which is given them.
Note II.
VERSE 15. All but old Ocean. ]
Eustathius gives two Reasons why Oceanus was absent from this Assembly: The one is because he is fabled to be the Original of all the Gods, and it would have been a peice of Indecency for him to see the Deities, who were all his Descendents, war upon one another by joining adverse Parties: The other Reason he draws from the Allegory of Oceanus, which signifies the Element of Water, and consequently the whole Element could not ascend into the Aether; But whereas Neptune, the Rivers, and the Fountains are said to have been present, this is no way impossible, if we consider it in an allegorical Sense, which implies, that the Rivers, Seas, and Fountains supply the Air with Vapours, and by that means ascend into the Aether.
Note III.
VERSE 35. Coelestial Pow’rs descend, And as your Minds direct, your Succour lend To either Host— ]
Eustathius informs us, that the Ancients were very much divided upon this Passage of Homer. Some have criticised it, and others have answer’d their Criticism; but he reports nothing more than the Objection, without transmitting the Answer to us. Those who condemned Homer, said Jupiter was for the Trojans; he saw the Greeks were the strongest, so permitted the Gods to declare themselves and go to the Battel. But therein that God is deceived, and does not gain his Point; for the Gods who favour the Greeks being stronger than those who favour the Trojans, the Greeks will still have the same Advantage. I do not know what Answer the Partisans of Homer made, but for my part, I think this Objection is more ingenious than solid. Jupiter does not pretend that the Trojans shou’d be stronger than the Greeks, he has only a mind that the Decree of Destiny should be executed. Destiny had refused to Achilles the Glory of taking Troy, but if Achilles fights singly against the Trojans, he is capable of forcing Destiny; as Homer has already elsewhere said, that there had been brave Men who had done so. Whereas if the Gods took part, tho those who followed the Grecians were stronger than those who were for the Trojans, the latter wou’d however be strong enough to support Destiny, and to hinder Achilles from making himself Master of Troy: This was Jupiter’s sole View. Thus is this Passage far from being blameable, it is on the contrary very beautiful, and infinitely glorious for Achilles. Dacier.
Note IV.
VERSE 41. —Or Ilion ’s sacred Wall May fall this Day, tho’ Fate forbid the Fall. ]
Mons. de la Motte criticizes on this Passage, as thinking it absurd and contradictory to Homer’s own System, to imagine, that what Fate had ordained should not come to pass. Jupiter here seems to fear that Troy will be taken this very Day in spite of Destiny, [Greek]. M. Boivin answers, that the Explication hereof depends wholly upon the Principles of the ancient Pagan Theology and their Doctrine concerning Fate. It is certain, according to Homer and Virgil, that which Destiny had decreed did not constantly happen in the precise Time mark’d by Destiny, the fatal Moment was not to be retarded, but might be hastened: For example, that of the Death of Dido was advanced by the Blow she gave herself; her Hour was not then come.
—Nec fato, merita nec morte peribat, Sed misera ante diem—
Every violent Death was accounted [Greek], that is, before the fated Time, or (which is the same thing) against the natural Order, turbato mortalitatis ordine, as the Romans express’d it. And the same might be said of any Misfortunes which Men drew upon themselves by their own ill Conduct. (See the 37 th Note on lib. 16.) In a word, it must be allowed that it was not easy, in the Pagan Religion, to form the juses Ideas upon a Doctrine so difficult to be clear’d; and upon which it is no great wonder if a Poet should not always be perfectly consistent with himself, when it has puzzel’d such a Number of Divines and Philosophers.
Note V.
VERSE 44. On adverse Parts the warring Gods engage, Heav’ns awful Queen, &c.]
Eusahius has a very curious Remark upon this Division of the Gods in Homer, which M. Dacier has entirely borrowed (as indeed no Commentator ever borrowed more, or acknowledg’d less, than she has every where done from Eustathius. ) This Division, says he, is not made at random, but founded upon very solid Reasons, drawn from the Nature of those two Nations. He places on the Side of the Greeks all the Gods who preside over Arts and Sciences, to signify how much in that Respect the Greeks excell’d all other Nations. Juno, Pallas, Neptune, Mercury and Vulcan are for the Greeks; Juno, not only as the Goddess who presides over Marriage, and who is concern’d to revenge an Injury done to the nuptial Bed, but likewise as the Goddess who represents Monarchical Government, which was better establish’d in Greece than any where else; Pallas, because being the Goddess of War and Wisdom, she ought to assist those who are wrong’d; besides the Greeks understood the Art of War better than the Barbarians; Neptune, because he was an Enemy to the Trojans upon account of Laomedon’s Persidiousness, and because most of the Greeks being come from the Islands or Peninsula’s they were in some sort his Subjects; Mercury, because he is a God who presides over Stratagems of War, and because Troy was taken by that of the wooden Horse; and lastly Vulcan, as the declared Enemy of Mars and of all Adulterers, and as the Father of Arts.
Note VI.
VERSE 52. Mars, fiery-helm’d, the Laughter loving Dame. ]
The Reasons why Mars and Venus engage for the Trojans are very obvious; the Point in hand was to favour Ravishers and Debauchees. But the same Reason, you will say, does not serve for Apollo, Diana and Latona. It is urg’d that Apollo is for the Trojans, because of the Darts and Arrows which were the principal Strength of the Barbarians; and Diana, because she presided over Dancing, and those Barbarians were great Dancers; and Latona, as influenc’d by her Children. Xanthus being a Trojan River is interested for his Countrey. Eustathius.
Note VII.
VERSE 75. Above the Sire of Gods, &c.]
"The Images (says Longinus ) which Homer gives of the Combate of the Gods, have in ’em something prodigiously great and magnificent. We see in these Verses, the Earth open’d to its very Center, Hell ready to disclose itself, the whole Machine of the World upon the Point to be destroyed and overturn’d: To shew that in such a Conflict, Heaven and Hell, all Things mortal and immortal, the whole Creation in short was engag’d in this Battel, and all the Extent of Nature in Danger."
Non secus ac si qua penitus vi terra dehiscens Infernas reseret Sedes & Regna recludat Pallida, Diis invisa, superque immane barathrum Cernatur, trepidentque immisso lumine Manes. Virgil.
Madam Dacier rightly observes that this Copy is inferior to the Original on this account, that Virgil has made a Comparison of that which Homer made an Action. This occasions an infinite Difference, which is easy to be perceiv’d.
One may compare with this noble Passage of Homer, the Battel of the Gods and Giants in Hesiod’s Theogony, which is one of the sublimest Parts of that Author; and Milton’s Battel of the Angels in the sixth Book: The Elevation, and Enthusiasm of our great Countryman seems owing to this Original.
Note VIII.
VERSE 91. First silver shafted Phoebus took the Plain, &c.]
With what Art does the Poet engage the Gods in this Conflict! Neptune opposes Apollo, which implies that Things moist and dry are in continual Discord: Pallas fights with Mars, which signifies that Rashness and Wisdom always disagree: Juno is against Diana, that is, nothing more differs from a Marriage State, than Celibacy: Vulcan engages Xanthus, that is, Fire and Water are in perpetual Variance. Thus we have a fine Allegory conceal’d under the Veil of excellent Poetry, and the Reader receives a double Satisfaction at the same time from beautiful Verses, and an instructive Moral. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 119. Already have I met, &c.]
Eustathius remarks that the Poet lets no Opportunity pass of inserting into his Poem the Actions that preceded the tenth Year of the War, especially the Actions of Achilles the Hero of it. In this place he brings in Aeneas extolling the Bravery of his Enemy and confessing himself to have formerly been vanquish’d by him: At the same time he preserves a piece of ancient History by inserting into the Poem the Hero’s Conquest of Pedasus and Lyrnessus.
Note X.
VERSE 121. From Ida ’s Woods he chas’d us— But Jove assisting I surviv’d. ]
It is remarkable that Aeneas owed his Safety to his Flight from Achilles, but it may seem strange that Achilles who was so fam’d for his Swiftness, should not be able to overtake him, even with Minerva for his Guide. Eustathius answers, that this might proceed from the better Knowledge Aeneas might have of the Ways and Defiles: Achilles being a Stranger, and Aeneas having long kept his Father’s Flocks in those Parts.
He farther observes, that the Word [Greek]discovers that it was in the Night that Achilles pursu’d Aeneas.
Note XI.
VERSE 174. Advanc’d upon the Field there stood a Mound, &c.]
It may not be unnecessary to explain this Passage to make it understood by the Reader: The Poet is very short in the Description, as supposing the Fact already known, and hastens to the Combat between Achilles and Aeneas. This is very judicious in Homer not to dwell on a piece of History that had no relation to his Action, when he has rais’d the Reader’s Expectation by so pompous an Introduction, and made the Gods themselves his Spectators.
The Story is as follows. Laomedon having defrauded Neptune of the Reward he promis’d him for the building the Walls of Troy, Neptune sent a monstrous Whale, to which Laomedon exposed his Daughter Hesione: But Hercules having undertaken to destroy the Monster, the Trojans rais’d an Intrenchment to defend Hercules from his Pursuit: This being a remarkable piece of Conduct in the Trojans, it gave occasion to the Poet to adorn a plain Narration with Fiction by ascribing the Work to Pallas the Goddess of Wisdom. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 180. Here Neptune, and the Gods, &c.]
I wonder why Eustathius and all other Commentators should be silent upon this Recess of the Gods: It seems strange at the first view, that so many Deities, after having enter’d the Scene of Action, shou’d perform so short a Part, and immediately become themselves Spectators? I conceive the reason of this Conduct in the Poet to be, that Achilles has been inactive during the greatest part of the Poem; and as he is the Hero of it, ought to be the chief Character in it: The Poet therefore withdraws the Gods from the Field that Achilles may have the whole Honour of the Day, and not act in subordination to the Deities: Besides, the Poem now draws to a Conclusion, and it is necessary for Homer to enlarge upon the Exploits of Achilles, that he may leave a noble Idea of his Valour upon the Mind of the Reader.
Note XIII.
VERSE 214, &c. The Conversation of Achilles and Aeneas.]
I shall lay before the Reader the Words of Eustathius in defence of this Passage, which I confess seems to me to be faulty in the Poet. The Reader (says he) would naturally expect some great and terrible Atchievements should ensue from Achilles upon his first entrance upon Action. The Poet seems to prepare us for it, by his magnificent Introduction of him into the Field: But instead of a Storm, we have a Calm; he follows the same Method in this Book as he did in the third, where when both Armies were ready to engage in a general Conflict, he ends the Day in a single Combate between two Heroes: Thus he always agreeably surprizes his Readers. Besides the Admirers of Homer reap a farther Advantage from this Conversation of the Heroes: There is a Chain of ancient History as well as a Series of poetical Beauties.
Madam Dacier’s Excuse is very little better: And to shew that this is really a Fault in the Poet, I believe I may appeal to the Taste of every Reader who certainly finds himself disappointed: Our Expectation is rais’d to see Gods and Heroes engage, when suddenly it all sinks into such a Combat in which neither Party receive a Wound; and (what is more extraordinary) the Gods are made the Spectators of so small an Action! What occasion was there for Thunder, Earthquakes, and descending Deities, to introduce a Matter of so little Importance?
Neither is it any Excuse to say he has given us a peice of ancient History; We expected to read a Poet, not an Historian. In short, after the greatest Preparation for Action imaginable, he suspends the whole Narration, and from the Heat of a Poet, cools at once into the Simplicity of an Historian.
Note XIV.
VERSE 258. The Natives were content to till The shady Foot of Ida ’s Fount-ful Hill.
[Greek]
Plato and Strabo understand this Passage as favouring the Opinion that the Mountainous Parts of the World were first inhabited, after the universal Deluge; and that Mankind by degrees descended to dwell in the lower parts of the Hills (which they would have the Word [Greek]signify) and only in greater process of Time ventur’d into the Valleys: Virgil however seems to have taken this Word in a Sense something different where he alludes to this Passage. Aen. 3. 109.
—Nondum Ilium et arces Pergameae steterant, habitabant vallibus imis.
Note XV.
VERSE 262. Three thousand Mares, &c.]
The Number of the Horses and Mares of Ericthonius may seem incredible, were we not assured by Herodotus that there were in the Stud of Cyrus at one time (besides those for the Service of War) eight hundred Horses and six thousand six hundred Mares. Eustathius.
Note XVI.
VERSE 264. Boreas, enamour’d, &c.]
Homer has the Happiness of making the least Circumstance considerable; the Subject grows under his Hands, and the plainest Matter shines in his Dress of Poetry: Another Poet would have said these Horses were as swift as the Wind, but Homer tells you that they sprung from Boreas the God of Wind; and thence drew their Swiftness.
Note XVII.
VERSE 270. These lightly skimming, as they swept the Plain. ]
The Poet illustrates the Swiftness of these Horses by describing them as running over the standing Corn, and Surface of Waters, without making any Impression. Virgil has imitated these Lines, and adapts what Homer says of these Horses to the Swiftness of Camilla. Aen. 7. 809
Illa vel Intactae segetis per summa volaret Gramina; nec teneras cursu laesisset aristas: Vel mare per medium, fluctu supensa tumenti Ferret iter, celeres nec tingeret aequore plantas.
The Reader will easily perceive that Virgil’s is almost a literal Translation: He has imitated the very run of the Verses, which flow nimbly away in Dactyls, and as swift as the Wind they describe.
I cannot but observe one thing in favour of Homer, that there can no greater Commendation be given to him, than by considering the Conduct of Virgil: who, tho’ undoubtedly the greatest Poet after him, seldom ventures to vary much from his Original in the Passages he takes from him, as in a Despair of improving, and contented if he can but equal them.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 280. To bear the Cup of Jove.]
To be a Cup-bearer has in all Ages and Nations been reckon’d an honourable Employment: Sappho mentions it in honour of her Brother Larichus, that he was Cup-bearer to the Nobles of Mitylene: The Son of Menelaus executed the same Office, Hebe and Mercury serv’d the Gods in the same Station.
It was the Custom in the Pagan Worship to employ noble Youths to pour the Wine upon the Sacrifice: In this Office Ganymede might probably attend upon the Altar of Jupiter, and from thence was fabled to be his Cup-bearer. Eustath.
Note XIX.
VERSE 339. But Ocean’s God, &c.]
The Conduct of the Poet in making Aeneas owe his Safety to Neptune in this place is remarkable: Neptune is an Enemy to the Trojans, yet he dares not suffer so pious a Man to fall, lest Jupiter should be offended: This shews, says Eustathius, that Piety is always under the Protection of God; and that Favours are sometimes conferred not out of Kindness, but to prevent a greater Detriment; thus Neptune preserves Aeneas, lest Jupiter should revenge his Death upon the Grecians.
Note XX.
VERSE 345. And can ye see this righteous Chief, &c.]
Tho’ Aeneas is represented a Man of great Courage, yet his Piety is his most shining Character: This is the reason why he is always the Care of the Gods, and they favour him constantly thro’ the whole Poem with their immediate Protection.
’Tis in this Light that Virgil has presented him to the View of the Reader: His Valour bears but the second Place in the Aeneis. In the Ilias indeed he is drawn in Miniature, and in the Aeneis in full Length; but there are the same Features in the Copy, which are in the Original, and he is the same Aeneas in Rome as he was in Troy.
Note XXI.
VERSE 355. On great Aeneas shall devolve the Reign, And Sons succeeding Sons the Line sustain.
The Story of Aeneas his founding the Roman Empire gave Virgil the finest Occasion of paying a Complement to Augustus, and his Countrymen, who were fond of being thought the Descendants of Troy. He has translated these two Lines literally, and put them in the nature of a Prophecy; as the Favourers of the Opinion of Aeneas’s sailing into Italy, imagine Homer’s to be.
— [Greek]
Hic domus Aeneae cunctis dominabitur oris, Et nati natorum & qui nascentur ab illis.
There has been a very ancient Alteration made (as Strabo observes) in these two Lines by substituting [Greek]in the room of [Greek]. It is not improbable but Virgil might give occasion for it, by his cunctis dominabitur oris. Eustathius does not entirely discountenance this Story: If it be understood, says he, as a Prophecy, the Poet might take it from the Sibylline Oracles. He farther remarks that the Poet artfully interweaves into his Poem not only the things which happen’d before the Commencement, and in the Prosecution of the Trojan War; but other Matters of Importance which happen’d even after that War was brought to a Conclusion. Thus for instance, we have here a peice of History not extant in any other Author, by which we are inform’d that the House of Aeneas succeeded to the Crown of Troas, and to the Kingdom of Priam. Eustathius. This Passage is very considerable, for it ruins the famous Chimaera of the Roman Empire, and of the Family of the Caesars, who both pretended to deduce their Original from Venus by Aeneas, alledging that after the taking of Troy, Aeneas came into Italy, and this Pretension is hereby actually destroy’d. This Testimony of Homer ought to be look’d upon as an authentick Act, the Fidelity and Verity whereof cannot be questioned. Neptune, as much an Enemy as he is to the Trojans, declares that Aeneas, and after him his Posterity, shall reign over the Trojans. Wou’d Homer have put this Prophecy in Neptune’s Mouth, if he had not known that Aeneas did not leave Troy, that he reigned therein, and if he had not seen in his Time the Descendants of that Prince reign there likewise? That Poet wrote 260 Years, or thereabouts, after the taking of Troy, and what is very remarkable he wrote in some of the Towns of Ionia, that is to say, in the Neighbourhood of Phrygia, so that the Time and Place give such a Weight to his Deposition that nothing can invalidate it. All that the Historians have written concerning Aeneas’s Voyage into Italy, ought to be consider’d as a Romance, made on purpose to destroy all historical Truth, for the most ancient is posterior to Homer by many Ages. Before Dionysius of Halicarnassus, some Writers being sensible of the Strength of this Passage of Homer, undertook to explain it so as to reconcile it with this Fable, and they said that Aeneas, after having been in Italy, return’d to Troy, and left his Son Ascanius there. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, little satisfy’d with this Solution, which did not seem to him to be probable, has taken another Method: He would have it that by these Words,
"He shall reign over the Trojans,
Homer meant, he shall reign over the Trojans whom he shall carry with him into Italy.
"Is it not possible, says he, that Aeneas should reign over the Trojans, whom he had taken with him, though settled elsewhere?
That Historian, who wrote in Rome itself, and in the very Reign of Augustus, was willing to make his Court to that Prince, by explaining this Passage of Homer so as to favour the Chimaera he was possess’d with. And this is a Reproach that may with some Justice be cast on him; for Poets may by their Fictions flatter Princes and welcome: Tis their Trade. But for Historians to corrupt the Gravity and Severity of History, to substitute Fable in the place of Truth, is what ought not to be pardon’d. Strabo was much more religious, for though he wrote his Books of Geography towards the Beginning of Tiberius’s Reign, yet he had the Courage to give a right Explication to this Passage of Homer, and to aver, that this Poet said, and meant, that Aeneas remain’d at Troy, that he reign’d therein, Priam’s whole Race being extinguish’d, and that he left the Kingdom to his Children after him. lib. 13. You may see this whole Matter discuss’d in a Letter from the famous M. Bochart to M. de Segrais, who has prefix’d it to his Remarks upon the Translation of Virgil.
Note XXII.
VERSE 378. Where the slow Caucons close the Rear. ]
The Caucones (says Eustathius ) were of Paphlagonian Extract: And this Perhaps was the Reason why they are not distinctly mention’d in the Catalogue, they being included under the general Name of Paphlagonians: Tho’ two Lines are quoted which are said to have been left out by some Transcriber, and immediately followed this,
[Greek]
Which Verses are these,
[Greek]
Or as others read it, [Greek]
[Greek]
Or according to others,
[Greek]
But I believe these are not Homer’s Lines, but the Addition of some Transcriber, and tis evident by consulting the Passage from which they are said to have been curtail’d, that they would be absurd in that place; for the second Line is actually there already, and as these Caucons are said to live upon the Banks of the Parthenius, so are the Paphlagonians in the above-mention’d Passage. It is therefore more probable that the Caucons are included in the Paphlagonians.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 467. —Not louder roars At Neptune ’s Shrine on Helice ’s high Shores, &c.]
In Helice, a Town of Achaia, three quarters of a League from the Gulph of Corinth, Neptune had a magnificent Temple where the Ionians offer’d every Year to him a Sacrifice of a Bull; and it was with these People an auspicious Sign, and a certain Mark, that the Sacrifice would be accepted, if the Bull bellow’d as it was led to the Altar. After the Ionic Migration, which happen’d about 140 Years after the taking of Troy, the Ionians of Asia assembled in the Fields of Priene to celebrate the same Festival in honour of Heliconian Neptune; and as those of Priene valued themselves upon being originally of Helice, they chose for the King of the Sacrifice a young Prienian. It is needless to dispute from whence the Poet has taken his Comparison; for as he liv’d a 100, or 120 Years after the Ionic Migration, it cannot be doubted but he took it in the Asian Ionia, and at Priene itself; where he had doubtless often assisted at that Sacrifice, and been Witness of the Ceremonies therein observed. This Poet always appears strongly addicted to the Customs of the Ionians, which makes some conjecture that he was an Ionian himself. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 471. Then fell on Polydore his vengeful Rage. ]
Euripides in his Hecuba has follow’d another Tradition when he makes Polydorus the Son of Priam, and of Hecuba, and makes him slain by Polymnestor King of Thrace, after the taking of Troy; for according to Homer, he is not the Son of Hecuba, but of Laothoe, as he says in the following Book, and is slain by Achilles: Virgil too has rather chosen to follow Euripides than Homer.
Note XXV.
VERSE 489. Full in Achilles dreadful Front he came. ]
The great Judgment of the Poet in keeping the Character of his Hero is in this place very evident: When Achilles was to engage Aeneas he holds a long Conference with him, and with Patience bears the Reply of Aeneas: Had he pursu’d the same Method with Hector, he had departed from his Character. Anger is the prevailing Passion in Achilles: He left the Field in a Rage against Agamemnon, and enter’d it again to be reveng’d of Hector: The Poet therefore judiciously makes him take Fire at the sight of his Enemy: He describes him as impatient to kill him, he gives him a haughty Challenge, and that Challenge is comprehended in a single Line: His Impatience to be reveng’d, would not suffer him to delay it by a Length of Words.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 513. But present to his Aid Apollo.]
It is a common Observation that a God should never be introduced into a Poem but where his Presence is necessary. And it may be ask’d why the Life of Hector is of such Importance that Apollo should rescue him from the Hand of Achilles here, and yet suffer him to fall so soon after? Eustathius answers, that the Poet had not yet sufficiently exalted the Valour of Achilles, he takes time to enlarge upon his Atchievements, and rises by degrees in his Character, till he completes both his Courage and Resentment at one Blow in the Death of Hector. And the Poet, adds he, pays a great Complement to his favourite Countryman, by shewing that nothing but the Intervention of a God could have sav’d Aeneas and Hector from the Hand of Achilles.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 541. —No Pray’r, no moving Art E’er bent that fierce, inexorable Heart! ]
I confess it is a Satisfaction to me, to observe with what Art the Poet pursues his Subject: The opening of the Poem professes to treat of the Anger of Achilles; that Anger draws on all the great Events of the Story: And Homer at every Opportunity awakens the Reader to an Attention to it, by mentioning the Effects of it: So that when we see in this place the Hero deaf to Youth, and Compassion, it is what we expect: Mercy in him would offend, because it is contrary to his Character. Homer proposes him not as a Pattern for Imitation; but the Moral of the Poem which he design’d the Reader should draw from it, is, that we should avoid Anger, since it is ever pernicious in the Event.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 580. The trampling Steers beat out the unnumber’d Grain. ]
In Greece, instead of threshing the Corn as we do, they caus’d it to be trod out by Oxen; this was likewise practis’d in Judaea, as is seen by the Law of God, who forbad the Jews to muzzle the Ox who trod out the Corn, Non ligabis os bovis terentis in areâ fruges tuas. Deuteron. 25. Dacier. The self same Practice is still preserved among the Turks and modern Greeks.
Note XXX.
The Similes at the End. ]
It is usual with our Author to heap his Similes very thick together at the Conclusion of a Book. He has done the same in the seventeenth: ’Tis the natural Discharge of a vast Imagination, heated in its Progress, and giving itself vent in this Crowd of Images.
I cannot close the Notes upon this Book, without observing the dreadful Idea of Archilles, which the Poet leaves upon the Mind of the Reader. He drives his Chariot over Shields and mangled Heaps of Slain: The Wheels, the Axle-tree, and the Horses are stain’d with Blood, the Hero’s Eyes burn with Fury, and his Hands are red with Slaughter. A Painter might form from this Passage the Picture of Mars in the Fulness of his Terrors, as well as Phidias is said to have drawn from another, that of Jupiter in all his Majesty.
Book XXI THE TWENTY-FIRST BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Trojans fly before Achilles, some towards the Town, others to the River Scamander: He falls upon the latter with great slaughter, takes twelve captives alive, to sacrifice to the Manes of Patroclus; and kills Lycaon and Asteropaeus. Scamander attacks him with all his waves; Neptune and Pallas assist the Hero; Simois joins Scamander; at length Vulcan, by the instigation of Juno, almost dries up the River. This Combate ended, the other Gods engage each other. Meanwhile Achilles continues the slaughter, drives the rest into Troy; Agenor only makes a stand, and is convey’d away in a cloud by Apollo; who (to delude Achilles ) takes upon him Agenor’s shape, and while he pursues him in that disguise, gives the Trojans an opportunity of retiring into their City. The same Day continues. The Scene is on the Banks, and in the Stream, of Scamander.
Index to The Argument
- [1-19] Trojans split at the Scamander
- [20-39] River slaughter & twelve captives seized
- [40-60] Lycaon recognised
- [61-88] Lycaon’s plea for mercy
- [89-131] Mercy denied—Lycaon killed
- [132-150] Taunt to the river god
- [151-200] Duel with Asteropaeus
- [201-238] Paeonian rout & Scamander’s protest
- [239-273] First assault of the flood
- [274-320] Achilles trapped and prays for help
- [321-346] Poseidon and Athena intervene
- [347-365] Rivers unite against Achilles
- [366-385] Juno summons the god of fire
- [386-447] Hephaestus vs. Scamander
- [448-457] Ares challenges Athena
- [458-477] Athena fells Ares
- [478-578] Aphrodite and Artemis humbled
- [500-534] Poseidon debates Apollo
- [579-604] Latona comforts her children; gods retire
- [605-626] Achilles’ fiery advance
- [627-636] Apollo shields the retreat
- [637-654] Agenor armed with divine courage
- [655-708] The stand of Agenor
- [709-724] Apollo decoys Achilles
AND now to Xanthus’ gliding Stream they drove,
Xanthus, Immortal Progeny of Jove.
The River here divides the flying Train.
Part to the Town fly diverse o’er the Plain,
Where late their Troops triumphant bore the Fight,
Now chac’d, and trembling in ignoble flight:
(These with a gather’d Mist Saturnia shrouds,
And rolls behind the Rout a Heap of Clouds)
Part plunge into the Stream: Old Xanthus roars,
The flashing Billows beat the whiten’d Shores:
With Cries promiscuous all the Banks resound,
And here, and there, in Eddies whirling round,
The flouncing Steeds and shrieking Warriors drown’d
As the scorch’d Locusts from their Fields retire,
While fast behind them runs the Blaze of Fire;
Driv’n from the Land before the smoky Cloud,
The clust’ring Legions rush into the Flood:
So plung’d in Xanthus by Achilles’ Force,
Roars the resounding Surge with Men and Horse.
His bloody Lance the Hero casts aside,
(Which spreading Tam’risks on the Margin hide)
Then like a God, the rapid Billows braves,
Arm’d with his Sword, high-brandish’d o’er the Waves;
Now down he plunges, now he whirls it round,
Deep groan the Waters with the dying Sound;
Repeated Wounds the red’ning River dy’d,
And the warm Purple circled on the Tyde.
Swift thro’ the foamy Flood the Trojans fly,
And close in Rocks or winding Caverns lye.
So the huge Dolphin tempesting the Main,
In Shoals before him fly the scaly Train,
Confus’dly heap’d, they seek their inmost Caves,
Or pant and heave beneath the floating Waves.
Now tir’d with Slaughter, from the Trojan Band
Twelve chosen Youths he drags alive to Land;
With their rich Belts their Captive Arms constrains,
(Late their proud Ornaments, but now their Chains.)
These his Attendants to the Ships convey’d,
Sad Victims! destin’d to Patroclus’ Shade.
Then, as once more he plung’d amid the Flood,
The young Lycaon in his Passage stood;
The Son of Priam, whom the Hero’s Hand
But late made captive in his Father’s Land,
(As on a Fig-tree Top, his sounding Steel
Lopp’d the green Arms to spoke a Chariot Wheel)
To Lemnos’ Isle he sold the Royal Slave,
Where Jason’s Son the Price demanded gave;
But kind Eëtion touching on the Shore,
The ransom’d Prince to fair Arisbe bore.
Ten Days were past, since in his Father’s Reign
50He felt the Sweets of Liberty again;
The next, that God whom Men in vain withstand,
Gives the same Youth to the same conqu’ring Hand;
Now never to return! and doom’d to go
A sadder Journey to the Shades below.
His well-known Face when great Achilles ey’d,
(The Helm and Vizor he had cast aside
With wild Affright, and dropt upon the Field
His useless Lance and unavailing Shield.)
As trembling, panting, from the Stream he fled,
And knock’d his fault’ring Knees, the Hero said.
Ye mighty Gods! what Wonders strike my View:
Is it in vain our conqu’ring Arms subdue?
Sure I shall see yon’ Heaps of Trojans kill’d
Rise from the Shades, and brave me on the Field:
As now the Captive, whom so late I bound
And sold to Lemnos, stalks on Trojan Ground!
Not him the Seas unmeasur’d Deeps detain,
That barr such numbers from their native Plain:
Lo! he returns! Try then, my flying spear!
Try, if the Grave can hold the Wanderer;
If Earth at length this active Prince can seize,
Earth, whose strong Grasp has held down Hercules.
Thus while he spake, the Trojan pale with Fears
Approach’d, and sought his Knees with suppliant Tears;
Loth as he was to yield his youthful Breath,
And his Soul shiv’ring at th’ Approach of Death.
Achilles rais’d the Spear, prepar’d to wound;
He kiss’d his Feet, extended on the Ground:
And while above the Spear suspended stood,
Longing to dip its thristy Point in Blood;
One Hand embrac’d them close, one stopt the Dart;
While thus these melting Words attempt his Heart.
Thy well-known Captive, great Achilles! see,
Once more Lycaon trembling at thy Knee;
Some Pity to a Suppliant’s Name afford,
Who shar’d the Gifts of Ceres at thy Board,
Whom late thy conqu’ring Arm to Lemnos bore,
Far from his Father, Friends, and native Shore;
A hundred Oxen were his Price that Day,
Now Sums immense thy Mercy shall repay.
Scarce respited from Woes I yet appear,
And scarce twelve morning Suns have seen me here;
Lo! Jove again submits me to thy Hands,
Again, her Victim cruel Fate demands!
I sprung from Priam, and Laothoe fair,
(Old Alte’s Daughter, and Lelegia’s Heir;
Who held in Pedasus his fam’d Abode,
And rul’d the Fields where silver Satnio flow’d)
Two Sons (alas, unhappy Sons) she bore,
100For ah! one Spear shall drink each Brother’s Gore,
And I succeed to slaughter’d Polydore.
How from that Arm of Terror shall I fly?
Some Daemon urges! ’tis my Doom to die!
If ever yet soft Pity touch’d thy mind,
Ah! think not me too much of Hector’s Kind:
Not the same Mother gave thy Suppliant Breath,
With his, who wrought thy lov’d Patroclus’ Death.
These Words, attended with a Show’r of Tears,
The Youth addrest to unrelenting Ears:
Talk not of Life, or Ransom, (he replies)
Patroclus dead, whoever meets me, dies:
In vain a single Trojan sues for Grace;
But least, the Sons of Priam’s hateful Race.
Die then, my Friend! what boots it to deplore?
The great, the good Patroclus is no more!
He, far thy Better, was fore-doom’d to die,
"And thou, dost thou, bewail Mortality?
See’st thou not me, whom Nature’s Gifts adorn,
Sprung from a Hero, from a Goddess born;
The Day shall come (which nothing can avert)
When by the Spear, the Arrow, or the Dart,
By Night, or Day, by Force or by Design,
Impending Death and certain Fate are mine.
Die then—He said; and as the Word he spoke
The fainting Stripling sunk, before the Stroke;
His Hand forgot its Grasp, and left the Spear;
While all his trembling Frame confest his Fear.
Sudden, Achilles his broad Sword display’d,
And buried in his Neck the reeking Blade.
Prone fell the Youth; and panting on the Land,
The gushing Purple dy’d the thirsty Sand:
The Victor to the Stream the Carcass gave,
And thus insults him, floating on the Wave
Lie, there, Lycaon! let the Fish surround
Thy bloated Corse, and suck thy goary Wound:
There no sad Mother shall thy Fun’rals weep,
But swift Scamander roll thee to the Deep,
Whose ev’ry Wave some wat’ry Monster brings,
To feast unpunish’d on the Fat of Kings.
So perish Troy, and all the Trojan Line!
Such Ruin theirs, and such Compassion mine.
What boots ye now Scamander’s worship’d Stream,
His earthly Honours, and immortal Name;
In vain your immolated Bulls are slain,
Your living Coursers glut his Gulphs in vain:
Thus he rewards you, with this bitter Fate;
Thus, till the Grecian Vengeance is compleat;
Thus is aton’d Patroclus honour’d Shade,
And the short Absence of Achilles paid.
150These boastful Words provoke the raging God;
With Fury swells the violated Flood.
What Means divine may yet the Pow’r employ,
To check Achilles, and to rescue Troy?
Meanwhile the Hero springs in Arms, to dare
The great Asteropeus to mortal War;
The Son of Pelagon, whose lofty Line
Flows from the Source of Axius, Stream divine!
(Fair Peribaea’s Love the God had crown’d,
With all his refluent Waters circled round)
On him Achilles rush’d: He fearless stood,
And shook two Spears, advancing from the Flood;
The Flood impell’d him, on Pelides’ Head
T’avenge his Waters choak’d with Heaps of Dead.
Near as they drew, Achilles thus began.
What art thou, boldest of the Race of Man?
Who, or from whence? Unhappy is the Sire,
Whose Son encounters our resistless Ire.
O Son of Peleus! what avails to trace
(Reply’d the Warrior) our illustrious Race?
From rich Paeonia’s Vallies I command
Arm’d with protended Spears, my native Band;
Now shines the tenth bright Morning since I came
In aid of Ilion to the Fields of Fame:
Axius, who swells with all the neighb’ring Rills,
And wide around the floated Region fills,
Begot my Sire, whose Spear such Glory won:
Now lift thy Arm, and try that Hero’s Son!
Threat’ning he said: The hostile Chiefs advance;
At once Asteropeus discharg’d each Lance,
(For both his dext’rous Hands the Lance cou’d wield)
One struck, but pierc’d not the Vulcanian Shield;
One raz’d Achilles Hand; the spouting Blood
Spun forth, in Earth the fasten’d Weapon stood.
Like Lightning next the Pelian Jav’lin flies;
Its erring Fury hiss’d along the Skies;
Deep in the swelling Bank was driv’n the Spear,
Ev’n to the middle earth’d; and quiver’d there.
Then from his side the Sword Pelides drew,
And on his Foe with doubled Fury flew.
The Foe thrice tugg’d, and shook the rooted Wood;
Repulsive of his Might the Weapon stood:
The fourth, he tries to break the Spear in vain;
Bent as he stands, he tumbles to the Plain;
His Belly open’d with a ghastly Wound,
The reeking Entrails pour upon the Ground.
Beneath the Hero’s Feet he panting lies,
And his Eye darkens, and his Spirit flies:
While the proud Victor thus triumphing said,
His radiant Armour tearing from the Dead:
200So ends thy Glory! Such the Fate they prove
Who strive presumptuous with the Sons of Jove.
Sprung from a River didst thou boast thy Line,
But great Saturnius is the Source of mine.
How durst thou vaunt thy wat’ry Progeny?
Of Peleus, Aeacus, and Jove, am I;
The Race of these superior far to those,
As he that thunders to the Stream that flows.
What Rivers can, Scamander might have shown;
But Jove he dreads, nor wars against his Son.
Ev’n Achelöus might contend in vain,
And all the roaring Billows of the Main.
Th’Eternal Ocean, from whose Fountains flow
The Seas, the Rivers, and the Springs below,
The thund’ring Voice of Jove abhors to hear,
And in his deep Abysses shakes with Fear.
He said; then from the Bank his Jav’lin tore,
And left the breathless Warrior in his Gore.
The floating Tydes the bloody Carcass lave,
And beat against it, Wave succeeding Wave;
Till roll’d between the Banks, it lies the Food
Of curling Eels, and Fishes of the Flood.
All scatter’d round the Stream (their Mightiest slain)
Th’amaz’d Paeonians scour along the Plain:
He vents his Fury on the flying Crew,
Thrasius, Astypylus, and Mnesus slew;
Mydon, Thersilochus, with Aenius fell;
And Numbers more his Lance had plung’d to Hell;
But from the Bottom of his Gulphs profound,
Scamander spoke; the Shores return’d the Sound.
O first of Mortals! (for the Gods are thine)
In Valour matchless, and in Force divine!
If Jove have giv’n thee every Trojan Head,
’Tis not on me thy Rage should heap the Dead.
See! my choak’d Streams no more their Course can keep,
Nor roll their wonted Tribute to the Deep.
Turn then, Impetuous! from our injur’d Flood;
Content, thy Slaughters could amaze a God.
In human Form confess’d before his Eyes
The River thus; and thus the Chief replies.
O sacred Stream! thy Word we shall obey;
But not till Troy the destin’d Vengeance pay,
Not till within her Tow’rs the perjur’d Train
Shall pant, and tremble at our Arms again;
Not till proud Hector, Guardian of her Wall,
Or stain this Lance, or see Achilles fall.
He said; and drove with Fury on the Foe.
Then to the Godhead of the silver Bow
The yellow Flood began: O Son of Jove!
Was not the Mandate of the Sire above
250Full and express? that Phoebus should employ
His sacred Arrows in defence of Troy,
And make her conquer, till Hyperion’s Fall
In awful Darkness hide the Face of all?
He spoke in vain—The Chief without Dismay
Ploughs thro’ the boiling Surge his desp’rate Way.
Then rising in his Rage above the Shores,
From all his Deeps the bellowing River roars,
Huge Heaps of Slain disgorges on the Coast,
And round the Banks the ghastly Dead are tost.
While all before, the Billows rang’d on high
(A wat’ry Bulwark) screen the Bands who fly.
Now bursting on his Head with thund’ring Sound,
The falling Deluge whelms the Hero round:
His loaded Shield bends to the rushing Tide;
His Feet, upborn, scarce the strong Flood divide,
Slidd’ring, and stagg’ring. On the Border stood
A spreading Elm, that overhung the Flood;
He seiz’d a bending Bough, his Steps to stay;
The Plant uprooted to his Weight gave way,
Heaving the Bank, and undermining all;
Loud flash the Waters to the rushing Fall
Of the thick Foliage. The large Trunk display’d
Bridg’d the rough Flood across: The Hero stay’d
On this his Weight, and rais’d upon his Hand,
Leap’d from the Chanel, and regain’d the Land.
Then blacken’d the wild Waves; the Murmur rose;
The God pursues, a huger Billow throws,
And bursts the Bank, ambitious to destroy
The Man whose Fury is the Fate of Troy.
He, like the warlike Eagle speeds his Pace,
(Swiftest and strongest of th’aerial Race)
Far as a Spear can fly, Achilles springs
At every Bound; His clanging Armour rings:
Now here, now there, he turns on ev’ry side,
And winds his Course before the following Tide;
The Waves flow after, wheresoe’er he wheels,
And gather fast, and murmur at his Heels.
So when a Peasant to his Garden brings
Soft Rills of Water from the bubbling Springs,
And calls the Floods from high, to bless his Bow’rs
And feed with pregnant Streams the Plants and Flow’rs;
Soon as he clears whate’er their passage staid,
And marks their future Current with his Spade,
Swift o’er the rolling Pebbles, down the Hills
Louder and louder purl the falling Rills,
Before him scatt’ring, they prevent his pains,
And shine in mazy Wand’rings o’er the Plains.
Still flies Achilles, but before his eyes
Still swift Scamander rolls where’er he flies:
300Not all his Speed escapes the rapid Floods;
The first of Men, but not a Match for Gods.
Oft’ as he turn’d the Torrent to oppose,
And bravely try if all the Pow’rs were Foes;
So oft’ the Surge, in wat’ry Mountains spread,
Beats on his Back, or bursts upon his Head.
Yet dauntless still the adverse Flood he braves,
And still indignant bounds above the Waves.
Tir’d by the Tides, his Knees relax with Toil;
Wash’d from beneath him, slides the slimy Soil;
When thus (his Eyes on Heav’ns Expansion thrown)
Forth bursts the Hero with an angry Groan.
Is there no God Achilles to befriend,
No Pow’r t’avert his miserable End?
Prevent, oh Jove! this ignominious Date,
And make my future Life the Sport of Fate.
Of all Heav’ns Oracles believ’d in vain,
But most of Thetis, must her Son complain;
By Phoebus’ Darts she prophesy’d my Fall,
In glorious Arms before the Trojan Wall.
Oh! had I dy’d in Fields of Battel warm,
Stretch’d like a Hero, by a Hero’s Arm!
Might Hector’s Spear this dauntless Bosom rend,
And my swift Soul o’ertake my slaughter’d Friend!
Ah no! Achilles meets a shameful Fate,
Oh how unworthy of the Brave and Great!
Like some vile Swain, whom, on a rainy Day,
Crossing a Ford, the Torrent sweeps away,
An unregarded Carcase to the Sea.
Neptune and Pallas haste to his Relief,
And thus in human Form address the Chief:
The Pow’r of Ocean first. Forbear thy Fear,
O Son of Peleus! Lo thy Gods appear!
Behold! from Jove descending to thy Aid,
Propitious Neptune, and the blue-ey’d Maid.
Stay, and the furious Flood shall cease to rave;
Tis not thy Fate to glut his angry Wave.
But thou, the Counsel Heav’n suggests, attend!
Nor breathe from Combate, nor thy Sword suspend,
Till Troy receive her flying Sons, till all
Her routed Squadrons pant behind their Wall:
Hector alone shall stand his fatal Chance,
And Hector’s Blood shall smoke upon thy Lance.
Thine is the Glory doom’d. Thus spake the Gods;
Then swift ascended to the bright Abodes.
Stung with new Ardor, thus by Heav’n impell’d,
He springs impetuous, and invades the Field:
O’er all th’expanded Plain the Waters spread;
Heav’d on the bounding Billows, danc’d the Dead,
Floating midst scatter’d Arms; while Casques of Gold
350And turn’d up Bucklers glitter’d as they roll’d.
High o’er the surging Tide, by Leaps and Bounds,
He wades, and mounts; the parted Wave resounds.
Not a whole River stops the Hero’s Course,
While Pallas fills him with immortal Force.
With equal Rage, indignant Xanthus roars,
And lifts his Billows, and o’erwhelms his Shores.
Then thus to Simois: Haste, my Brother Flood!
And check this Mortal that controuls a God:
Our bravest Heroes else shall quit the Fight,
And Ilion tumble from her tow’ry Height.
Call then thy subject Streams, and bid them roar,
From all thy Fountains swell thy wat’ry Store,
With broken Rocks, and with a Load of Dead,
Charge the black Surge, and pour it on his Head.
Mark how resistless thro’ the Floods he goes,
And boldly bids the warring Gods be Foes!
But nor that Force, nor Form divine to Sight
Shall ought avail him, if our Rage unite:
Whelm’d under our dark Gulphs those Arms shall lie
That blaze so dreadful in each Trojan Eye;
And deep beneath a sandy Mountain hurl’d
Immers’d remain this Terror of the World.
Such pond’rous Ruin shall confound the Place,
No Greek shall e’er his perish’d Relicks grace,
No Hand his Bones shall gather, or inhume;
These his cold Rites, and this his wat’ry Tomb.
He said; and on the Chief descends amain,
Increas’d with Gore, and swelling with the Slain.
Then murm’ring from his Beds, he boils, he raves,
And a Foam whitens on the purple Waves.
At ev’ry Step, before Achilles stood
The crimson Surge, and delug’d him with Blood.
Fear touch’d the Queen of Heav’n: She saw dismay’d,
She call’d aloud, and summon’d Vulcan’s Aid.
Rise to the War! th’insulting Flood requires
Thy wasteful Arm: Assemble all thy Fires!
While to their aid, by our Command enjoin’d,
Rush the swift Eastern and the Western Wind:
These from old Ocean at my Word shall blow,
Pour the red Torrent on the wat’ry Foe,
Corses and Arms to one bright Ruin turn,
And hissing Rivers to their bottoms burn.
Go, mighty in thy Rage! display thy Pow’r,
Drink the whole Flood, the crackling Trees devour,
Scorch all the Banks! and (till our Voice reclaim)
Exert th’unweary’d Furies of the Flame!
The Pow’r Ignipotent her Word obeys:
Wide o’er the Plain he pours the boundless Blaze;
At once consumes the Dead, and dries the Soil;
400And the shrunk Waters in their Chanel boil:
As when Autumnal Boreas sweeps the Sky,
And instant, blows the water’d Garden dry:
So look’d the Field, so whiten’d was the Ground,
While Vulcan breath’d the fiery Blast around.
Swift on the sedgy Reeds the Ruin preys;
Along the Margin winds the running Blaze:
The Trees in flaming rows to Ashes turn,
The flow’ry Lotos, and the Tam’risk burn,
Broad Elm, and Cypress rising in a Spire;
The wat’ry Willows hiss before the Fire.
Now glow the Waves, the Fishes pant for Breath,
The Eels lie twisting in the Pangs of Death:
Now flounce aloft, now dive the scaly Fry,
Or gasping, turn their Bellies to the Sky.
At length the River rear’d his languid Head,
And thus short-panting, to the God he said.
O Vulcan, oh! what Pow’r resists thy Might?
I faint, I sink, unequal to the Fight—
I yield—Let Ilion fall; if Fate decree—
Ah—bend no more thy fiery Arms on me!
He ceas’d; wide Conflagration blazing round;
The bubbling Waters yield a hissing Sound.
As when the Flames beneath a Caldron rise,
To melt the Fat of some rich Sacrifice,
Amid the fierce Embrace of circling Fires
The Waters foam, the heavy Smoak aspires:
So boils th’ imprison’d Flood, forbid to flow,
And choak’d with Vapours, feels his Bottom glow.
To Juno then, Imperial Queen of Air,
The burning River sends his earnest Pray’r.
Ah why, Saturnia! must thy Son engage
Me, only me, with all his wastfull Rage?
On other Gods his dreadful Arm employ,
For mightier Gods assert the Cause of Troy.
Submissive I desist, if thou command,
But ah! withdraw this all-destroying Hand.
Hear then my solemn Oath, to yield to Fate
Unaided Ilion, and her destin’d State,
Till Greece shall gird her with destructive Flame,
And in one Ruin sink the Trojan Name.
His warm Intreaty touch’d Saturnia’s Ear;
She bade th’Ignipotent his Rage forbear,
Recall the Flame, nor in a mortal cause
Infest a God: Th’obedient Flame withdraws:
Again, the branching Streams begin to spread,
And soft re-murmur in their wonted Bed.
While these by Juno’s Will the Strife resign,
The warring Gods in fierce Contention join:
Re-kindling Rage each heavenly Breast alarms;
450With horrid Clangor shock th’aetherial Arms:
Heav’n in loud Thunder bids the Trumpet sound;
And wide beneath them groans the rending Ground.
Jove, as his Sport, the dreadful Scene descries,
And views contending Gods with careless Eyes.
The Pow’r of Battels lifts his brazen Spear,
And first assaults the radiant Queen of War,
What mov’d thy Madness, thus to disunite
Aethereal Minds, and mix all Heav’n in Fight?
What wonder this, when in thy frantick Mood
Thou drov’st a Mortal to insult a God;
Thy impious Hand Tydides’ Jav’lin bore,
And madly bath’d it in celestial Gore.
He spoke, and smote the loud-resounding Shield,
Which bears Jove’s Thunder on its dreadful Field;
The Adamantine Aegis of her Sire,
That turns the glancing Bolt, and forked Fire.
Then heav’d the Goddess in her mighty Hand
A Stone, the Limit of the neighb’ring Land,
There fix’d from eldest times; black, craggy, vast:
This, at the heav’nly Homicide she cast.
Thund’ring he falls; a Mass of monstrous Size,
And sev’n broad Acres covers as he lies.
The stunning Stroke his stubborn Nerves unbound;
Loud o’er the Fields his ringing Arms resound:
The scornful Dame her Conquest views with Smiles,
And glorying thus, the prostrate God reviles.
Hast thou not yet, insatiate Fury! known,
How far Minerva’s Force transcends thy own?
Juno, whom thou rebellious dar’st withstand,
Corrects thy Folly thus by Pallas’ Hand;
Thus meets thy broken Faith with just Disgrace,
And partial Aid to Troy’s perfidious Race.
The Goddess spoke, and turn’d her Eyes away
That beaming round, diffus’d celestial Day.
Jove’s Cyprian Daughter stooping on the Land,
Lent to the wounded God her tender Hand:
Slowly he rises, scarcely breathes with Pain,
And propt on her fair Arm, forsakes the Plain.
This the bright Empress of the Heav’ns survey’d,
And scoffing, thus, to War’s victorious Maid.
Lo, what an Aid on Mars’s Side is seen!
The Smiles and Love’s unconquerable Queen!
Mark with what Insolence, in open view,
She moves: Let Pallas, if she dares, pursue.
Minerva smiling heard, the Pair o’ertook,
And slightly on her Breast the Wanton strook:
She, unresisting, fell; (her Spirits fled)
On Earth together lay the Lovers spread!
And like these Hero’s, be the Fate of all
500( Minerva cries) who guard the Trojan Wall!
To Grecian Gods such let the Phrygian be,
So dread, so fierce, as Venus is to me;
Then from the lowest Stone shall Troy be mov’d—
Thus she, and Juno with a Smile approv’d.
Meantime, to mix in more than mortal Fight,
The God of Ocean dares the God of Light.
What Sloath has seiz’d us, when the Fields around
Ring with conflicting Pow’rs, and Heav’n returns the Sound?
Shall ignominious We with shame retire,
No Deed perform’d, to our Olympian Sire?
Come, prove thy Arm! for first the War to wage,
Suits not my Greatness, or superior Age.
Rash as thou art to prop the Trojan Throne,
(Forgetful of my Wrongs, and of thy own)
And guard the Race of proud Laomedon!
Hast thou forgot, how at the Monarch’s Pray’r,
We shar’d the lengthen’d Labours of a Year?
Troy Walls I rais’d (for such were Jove’s Commands)
And yon’ proud Bulwarks grew beneath my Hands:
Thy Task it was, to feed the bellowing Droves
Along fair Ida’s Vales, and pendent Groves.
But when the circling Seasons in their Train
Brought back the grateful Day that crown’d our Pain;
With Menace stern the fraudful King defy’d
Our latent Godhead, and the Prize deny’d:
Mad as he was, he threaten’d servile Bands,
And doom’d us Exiles far in barb’rous Lands.
Incens’d, we heav’nward fled with swiftest wing,
And destin’d Vengeance on the perjur’d King.
Dost thou, for this, afford proud Ilion Grace,
And not like us, infest the faithless Race?
Like us, their present, future Sons destroy,
And from its deep Foundations heave their Troy?
Apollo thus: To combat for Mankind
Ill suits the Wisdom of celestial Mind:
For what is Man? Calamitous by Birth,
They owe their Life and Nourishment to Earth;
Like yearly Leaves, that now, with Beauty crown’d,
Smile on the Sun; now, wither on the Ground:
To their own Hands commit the frantick Scene,
Nor mix Immortals in a Cause so mean.
Then turns his Face, far-beaming heav’nly Fires,
And from the Senior Pow’r, submiss retires;
Him, thus retreating, Artemis upbraids,
The quiver’d Huntress of the Sylvan Shades.
And is it thus the youthful Phoebus flies,
And yields to Ocean’s hoary Sire, the Prize?
How vain that martial Pomp, and dreadful Show,
Of pointed Arrows, and the silver Bow!
550Now boast no more in yon’ celestial Bow’r,
Thy Force can match the great Earth-shaking Pow’r.
Silent, he heard the Queen of Woods upbraid:
Not so Saturnia bore the vaunting Maid;
But furious thus. What Insolence has driv’n
Thy Pride to face the Majesty of Heav’n?
What tho’ by Jove the female Plague design’d,
Fierce to the feeble Race of Womankind,
The wretched Matron feels thy piercing Dart;
Thy Sexe’s Tyrant, with a Tyger’s Heart?
What tho’ tremendous in the woodland Chase,
Thy certain Arrows pierce the savage Race?
How dares thy Rashness on the Pow’rs divine
Employ those Arms, or match thy Force with mine?
Learn hence, no more unequal War to wage—
She said, and seiz’d her Wrists with eager Rage;
These in her Left-Hand lock’d, her Right unty’d
The Bow, the Quiver, and its plumy Pride.
About her Temples flies the busy Bow;
Now here, now there, she winds her from the Blow;
The scatt’ring Arrows rattling from the Case,
Drop round, and idly mark the dusty Place.
Swift from the Field the baffled Huntress flies,
And scarce restrains the Torrent in her Eyes:
So, when the Falcon wings her way above,
To the cleft Cavern speeds the gentle Dove,
(Not fated yet to die) There safe retreats,
Yet still her Heart against the Marble beats.
To her, Latona hasts with tender Care;
Whom Hermes viewing, thus declines the War.
How shall I face the Dame, who gives Delight
To him whose Thunders blacken Heav’n with Night?
Go matchless Goddess! triumph in the Skies,
And boast my Conquest, while I yeild the Prize.
He spoke; and past: Latona, stooping low,
Collects the scatter’d Shafts, and fallen Bow,
That glitt’ring on the Dust, lay here and there;
Dishonour’d Relicks of Diana’s War.
Then swift pursu’d her to the blest Abode,
Where, all confus’d, she sought the Sov’reign God;
Weeping she grasp’d his Knees: Th’ Ambrosial Vest
Shook with her Sighs, and panted on her Breast.
The Sire, superior smil’d; and bade her show,
What heav’nly Hand had caus’d his Daughter’s Woe?
Abash’d, she names his own Imperial Spouse;
And the pale Crescent fades upon her Brows.
Thus they above: While swiftly gliding down,
Apollo enters Ilion’s sacred Town:
The Guardian God now trembled for her Wall,
And fear’d the Greeks, tho’ Fate forbade her Fall.
600Back to Olympus, from the War’s Alarms,
Return the shining Bands of Gods in Arms;
Some proud in Triumph, some with Rage on fire;
And take their Thrones around th’Aethereal Sire.
Thro’ Blood, thro’Death, Achilles still proceeds,
O’er slaughter’d Heroes, and o’er rolling Steeds.
As when avenging Flames with Fury driv’n,
On guilty Towns exert the Wrath of Heav’n;
The Pale Inhabitants, some fall, some fly;
And the red Vapours purple all the Sky.
So rag’d Achilles: Death, and dire Dismay,
And Toils, and Terrors, fill’d the dreadful Day.
High on a Turret hoary Priam stands,
And marks the Waste of his destructive Hands;
Views, from his Arm, the Trojans scatter’d Flight,
And the near Hero rising on his Sight!
No Stop, no Check, no Aid! With feeble pace,
And settled Sorrow on his aged Face,
Fast as he could, he sighing quits the Walls;
And thus, descending, on the Guards he calls.
You to whose care our City Gates belong,
Set wide your Portals to the flying Throng.
For lo! he comes, with unresisted Sway;
He comes, and Desolation marks his way!
But when within the Walls our Troops take Breath,
Lock fast the brazen Bars, and shut out Death.
Thus charg’d the rev’rend Monarch: Wide were flung
The opening Folds; the sounding Hinges rung.
Phoebus rush’d forth, the flying Bands to meet,
Strook Slaughter back, and cover’d the Retreat.
On Heaps the Trojans crowd to gain the Gate,
And gladsome see their last Escape from Fate:
Thither, all parch’d with Thirst, a heartless Train,
Hoary with Dust, they beat the hollow Plain;
And gasping, panting, fainting, labour on
With heavier Strides, that lengthen tow’rd the Town.
Enrag’d Achilles follows with his Spear;
Wild with Revenge, insatiable of War.
Then had the Greeks Eternal Praise acquir’d,
And Troy inglorious to her Walls retir’d;
But he, the God who darts aethereal Flame,
Shot down to save her, and redeem her Fame.
To young Agenor Force divine he gave,
( Antenor’s Offspring, haughty, bold and brave)
In aid of him, beside the Beech he sate,
And wrapt in Clouds, restrain’d the Hand of Fate.
When now the gen’rous Youth Achilles spies,
Thick beats his Heart, the troubled Motions rise,
(So, e’re a Storm, the Waters heave and roll)
He stops, and questions thus his mighty Soul.
650What, shall I fly this Terror of the Plain?
Like others fly, and be like others slain?
Vain hope! to shun him by the self-same Road
Yon’ Line of slaughter’d Trojans lately trod.
No: with the common Heap I scorn to fall—
What if they pass’d me to the Trojan Wall,
While I decline to yonder Path, that leads
To Ida’s Forests and surrounding Shades?
So may I reach, conceal’d, the cooling Flood,
From my tir’d Body wash the Dust and Blood,
As soon as Night her dusky Veil extends,
Return in safety to my Trojan Friends.
What if?—But wherefore all this vain Debate?
Stand I to doubt, within the reach of Fate?
Ev’n now perhaps, e’er yet I turn the Wall,
The fierce Achilles sees me, and I fall:
Such is his Swiftness, ’tis in vain to fly,
And such his Valour, that who stands must die.
Howe’er, ’tis better, fighting for the State,
Here, and in publick view, to meet my Fate.
Yet sure He too is mortal; He may feel
(Like all the Sons of Earth) the Force of Steel;
One only Soul informs that dreadful Frame;
And Jove’s sole Favour gives him all his Fame.
He said, and stood; collected in his Might;
And all his beating Bosom claim’d the Fight.
So from some deep-grown Wood a Panther starts,
Rouz’d from his Thicket by a Storm of Darts;
Untaught to fear or fly, he hears the Sounds
Of shouting Hunters, and of clam’rous Hounds,
Tho’ strook, tho’ wounded, scarce perceives the Pain,
And the barb’d Jav’lin stings his Breast in vain:
On their whole War, untam’d the Savage flies;
And tears his Hunter, or beneath him dies.
Not less resolv’d, Antenor’s valiant Heir
Confronts Achilles, and awaits the War,
Disdainful of Retreat: High-held before,
His Shield (a broad Circumference) he bore;
Then graceful as he stood, in act to throw
The lifted Jav’lin, thus bespoke the Foe.
How proud Achilles glories in his Fame!
And hopes this day to sink the Trojan Name
Beneath her Ruins! Know, that Hope is vain;
A thousand Woes, a thousand Toils remain.
Parents and Children our just Arms employ,
And strong, and many, are the Sons of Troy.
Great as thou art, ev’n thou may’st stain with Gore
These Phrygian Fields, and press a foreign Shore.
He said: With matchless Force the Jav’lin flung
Smote on his Knee; the hollow Cuishes rung
700Beneath the pointed Steel; but safe from Harms
He stands impassive in th’ Aethereal Arms.
Then fiercely rushing on the daring Foe,
His lifted Arm prepares the fatal Blow;
But jealous of his Fame, Apollo shrouds
The god-like Trojan in a Veil of Clouds;
Safe from Pursuit, and shut from mortal View,
Dismiss’d with Fame, the favour’d Youth withdrew.
Meanwhile the God, to cover their Escape,
Assumes Agenor’s Habit, Voice, and Shape,
Flies from the furious Chief in this Disguise,
The furious Chief still follows where he flies.
Now o’er the Fields they stretch with lengthen’d Strides,
Now urge the Course where swift Scamander glides:
The God now distant scarce a Stride before,
Tempts his Pursuit, and wheels about the Shore.
While all the flying Troops their Speed employ,
And pour on Heaps into the Walls of Troy.
No stop, no stay; no thought to ask, or tell,
Who scap’d by Flight, or who by Battel fell.
’Twas Tumult all, and Violence of Flight;
And sudden Joy confus’d, and mix’d Affright:
Pale Troy against Achilles shuts her Gate;
And Nations breathe, deliver’d from their Fate.
Observations on the 21st Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
Note I.
THIS Book is entirely different from all the foregoing: Tho’ it be a Battel, it is entirely of a new and surprizing kind, diversify’d with a vast Variety of Imagery and Description. The Scene is totally chang’d, he paints the Combate of his Hero with the Rivers, and describes a Battel amidst an Inundation. It is observable that tho’ the whole War of the Iliad was upon the Banks of these Rivers, Homer has artfully left out the Machinery of River-Gods in all the other Battels, to aggrandize this of his Hero. There is no Book of the Poem that has more force of Imagination, or in which the great and inexhausted Invention of our Author is more powerfully exerted. After this Description of an Inundation, there follows a very beautiful Contrast in that of the Drought: The Part of Achilles is admirably sustain’d, and the new Strokes which Homer gives to his Picture are such as are deriv’d from the very source of his Character, and finish the entire Draught of this Hero.
How far all that appears wonderful or extravagant in this Episode, may be reconcil’d to Probability, Truth, and natural Reason, will be consider’d in a distinct Note on that Head: The Reader may find it on ℣. 447.
Note II.
VERSE 2. Xanthus, immortal Progeny of Jove.]
The River is here said to be the Son of Jupiter, on account of its being supply’d with Waters that fall from Jupiter, that is, from Heaven. Eustathius.
Note III.
VERSE 14. As the scorch’d Locusts, &c.]
Eustathius observes that several Countries have been much infested with Armies of Locusts; and that, to prevent their destroying the Fruits of the Earth, the Countrymen by kindling large Fires drove them from their Fields; the Locusts to avoid the intense Heat were forc’d to cast themselves into the Water. From this Observation the Poet draws his Allusion which is very much to the Honour of Achilles, since it represents the Trojans with respect to him as no more than so many Insects.
The same Commentator takes notice, that because the Island of Cyprus in particular was us’d to practise this Method with the Locusts, some Authors have conjectur’d that Homer was of that Country; but if this were a sufficient Reason for such a Supposition, he might be said to be born in almost all the Countries of the World, since he draws his Observations from the Customs of them all.
We may hence account for the innumerable Armies of these Locusts, mention’d among the Plagues of Aegypt, without having recourse to an immediate Creation, as some good Men have imagin’d, whereas the Miracle indeed consists in the wonderful manner of bringing them upon the Aegyptians: I have often observ’d with Pleasure the Similitude which many of Homer’s Expressions bear with the holy Scriptures, and that the oldest Writer in the World except Moses often speaks in the Idiom of Moses: Thus as the Locusts in Exodus are said to be driven into the Seas, so in Homer they are forc’d into a River.
Note IV.
VERSE 30. So the huge Dolphin, &c.]
It is observable with what Justness the Author diversifies his Comparisons, according to the different Scenes and Elements he is engag’d in: Achilles has been hitherto on the Land, and compar’d to Land Animals, a Lyon, &c. Now he is in the Water, the Poet derives his Images from thence, and likens him to a Dolphin. Eustathius.
Note V.
VERSE 34. Now tir’d with Slaughter. ]
This is admirably well suited to the Character of Achilles, his Rage bears him headlong on the Enemy, he kills all that oppose him, and stops not till Nature itself could not keep pace with his Anger; he had determin’d to reserve twelve noble Youths to sacrifice them to the Manes of Patroclus, but his Resentment gives him no time to think of them, till the hurry of his Passion abates, and he is tir’d with Slaughter: Without this Circumstance, I think an Objection might naturally be rais’d, that in the time of a Pursuit Achilles gave the Enemy too much Leisure to escape, while he busy’d himself with tying these Prisoners: Tho’ it is not absolutely necessary to suppose he did this with his own Hands.
Note VI.
VERSE 35. Twelve chosen Youths. ]
This piece of Cruelty in Achilles has appear’d shocking to many, and indeed is what I think can only be excus’d by considering the ferocious and vindictive Spirit of this Hero. ’Tis however certain that the Cruelties exercis’d on Enemies in War were authoriz’d by the military Laws of those Times; nay Religion itself became a Sanction to them. It is not only the fierce Achilles, but the pious and religious Aeneas, whose very Character is Virtue and Compassion, that reserves several young unfortunate Captives taken in Battel, to sacrifice them to the Manes of his favourite Hero. Aen. 10. ℣. 517.
—Sulmone creatos Quattuor hic juvenes, totidem quos educat Ufens Viventes rapit; inferias quos immolet umbris, Captivoque rogi perfundat sanguine flammas.
And Aen. 11. ℣. 81.
Vinxerat & post terga manus, quos mitteret umbris, Inferias, caeso sparsuros sanguine flammam.
And (what is very particular) the Latin Poet expresses no Disapprobation of the Action, which the Grecian does in plain terms, speaking of this in Iliad 23. ℣. 176.
— [Greek]
Note VII.
VERSE 41. The young Lycaon, &c. ]
Homer has a wonderful Art and Judgment in contriving such Incidents as set the characteristick Qualities of his Heroes in the highest point of Light. There is hardly any in the whole Iliad more proper to move Pity than this Circumstance of Lycaon, or to raise Terror, than this View of Achilles. It is also the finest Picture of them both imaginable: We see the different Attitude of their Persons, and the different Passions which appear’d in their Countenances: At first Achilles stands erect, with Surprize in his Looks, at the Sight of one whom he thought it impossible to find there; while Lycaon is in the Posture of a Suppliant, with Looks that plead for Compassion; with one Hand holding the Hero’s Lance, and his Knee with theother: Afterwards, when at his Death he lets go the Spear and places himself on his Knees, with his Arms extended, to receive the mortal Wound; how lively and how strongly is this painted? I believe every one perceives the Beauty of this Passage, and allows that Poetry (at least in Homer ) is truly a speaking Picture.
Note VIII.
VERSE 84, &c. The Speeches of Lycaon and Achilles.]
It is impossible for any thing to be better imagin’d than these two Speeches; that of Lycaon is moving and compassionate, that of Achilles haughty and dreadful; the one pleads with the utmost Tenderness, the other denies with the utmost Sternness: One would think it impossible to amass so many moving Arguments in so few Words as those of Lycaon: He forgets no Circumstance to soften his Enemy’s Anger, he flatters the Memory of Patroclus, is afraid of being thought too nearly related to Hector, and would willingly put himself upon him as a Suppliant, and consequently as an inviolable person: But Achilles is immoveable, his Resentment makes him deaf to Entreaties, and it must be remember’d that Anger, not Mercy, is his Character.
I must confess I could have wish’d Achilles had spared him: There are so many Circumstances that speak in his Favour, that he deserv’d his Life, had he not ask’d it in Terms a little too abject.
There is an Air of Greatness in the Conclusion of the Speech of Achilles, which strikes me very much: He speaks very unconcernedly of his own Death, and upbraids his Enemy for asking Life so earnestly, a Life that was of so much less Importance than his own.
Note IX.
VERSE 122. The Day shall come— When by the Spear, the Arrow, or the Dart.
This is not spoken at random, but with an Air of Superiority; when Achilles says he shall fall by an Arrow, a Dart or a Spear, he insinuates that no Man will have the Courage to approach him in a close Fight, or engage him Hand to Hand. Eustathius.
Note X.
VERSE 147. Your living Coursers glut his Gulphs in vain. ]
It was an ancient Custom to cast living Horses into the Sea, and into Rivers, to honour, as it were, by these Victims, the Rapidity of their Streams. This Practice continued a long time, and History supplies us with Examples of it: Aurelius Victor says of Pompey the younger, Cùm mari feliciter uteretur, Neptuni se filium confessus est, eumque bobus auratis & equo placavit. He offer’d Oxen in Sacrifice, and threw a living Horse into the Sea, as appears from Dion; which is perfectly conformable to this of Homer. Eustath. Dacier.
Note XI.
VERSE 153. With Fury swells the violated Flood. ]
The Poet has been preparing us for the Episode of the River Xanthus ever since the Beginning of the last Book; and here he gives us an account why the River wars upon Achilles: It is not only because he is a River of Troas, but, as Eustathius remarks, because it is in defence of a Man that was descended from a Brother-River God: He was angry too with Achilles on another account, because he had choak’d up his Current with the Bodies of his Countreymen, the Trojans.
Note XII.
VERSE 172. From rich Paeonia ’s—&c. ]
In the Catalogue Pyraechmes is said to be Commander of the Paeonians, where they are describ’d as Bow-Men; but here they are said to be arm’d with Spears, and to have Asteropaens for their General.
Eustathius tells us, some Criticks asserted that this Line in the Cat. ℣. 355.
[Greek]
followed
[Greek]
but I see no reason for such an Assertion. Homer has expressly told us in this Speech that it was but ten Days since he came to the Aid of Troy; he might be made General of the Paeonians upon the Death of Pyraechmes, who was kill’d in the sixteenth Book. Why also might not the Paeonians, as well as Teucer, excel in the Management both of the Bow and the Spear?
Note XIII.
VERSE 189. Deep in the swelling Bank was driv’n the Spear, Ev’n to the middle earth’d— ]
It was impossible for the Poet to give us a greater Idea of the Strength of Achilles than he has by this Circumstance: His Spear peirc’d so deep into the Ground, that another Hero of great Strength could not disengage it by repeated Efforts; but immediately after, Achilles draws it with the utmost Ease: How prodigious was the Force of that Arm that could drive at one throw a Spear half way into the Earth, and then with a touch release it?
Note XIV.
VERSE 264. Now bursting on his Head, &c.]
There is a great Beauty in the Versification of this whole Passage in Homer: Some of the Verses run hoarse, full, and sonorous, like the Torrent they describe; others by their broken Cadences, and sudden Stops, image the Difficulty, Labour, and Interruption of the Hero’s March against it. The fall of the Elm, the tearing up of the Bank, the rushing of the Branches in the Water, are all put into such Words, that almost every Letter corresponds in its Sound, and echoes to the Sense of each particular.
Note XV.
VERSE 275. Bridg’d the rough Flood across— ]
If we had no other account of the River Xanthus but this, it were alone sufficient to shew that the Current could not be very wide; for the Poet here says that the Elm stretch’d from Bank to Bank, and as it were made a Bridge over it: The Suddenness of this Inundation perfectly well agrees with a narrow River.
Note XVI.
VERSE 277. Leap’d from the Chanel. ]
Eustathius recites a Criticism on this Verse, in the Original the Word [Greek]signifies Stagnum, Palus, a standing-Water; now this is certainly contrary to the Idea of a River, which always implies a Current: To solve this, says that Author, some have suppos’d that the Tree which lay a-cross the River stopp’d the flow of the Waters, and forc’d them to spread as it were into a Pool. Others, dissatisfy’d with this Solution, think that a Mistake is crept into the Text, and that instead of [Greek], should be inserted [Greek]. But I do not see the Necessity of having recourse to either of these Solutions; for why may not the Word [Greek]signify here the Chanel of the River, as it evidently does in the 317th Verse? And nothing being more common than to substitute a part for the whole, why may not the Chanel be suppos’d to imply the whole River?
Note XVII.
VERSE 290. As when a Peasant to his Garden brings, &c.]
This changing of the Character is very beautiful: No Poet ever knew, like Homer, to pass from the vehement and the nervous, to the gentle and the agreeable; such Transitions, when properly made, give a singular Pleasure, as when in Musick a Master passes from the rough to the tender. Demetrius Phalereus, who only praises this Comparison for its Clearness, has not sufficiently recommended its Beauty and Value. Virgil has transfer’d it into his first Book of the Georgicks. ℣. 106.
Deinde satis fluvium inducit, rivosque sequentes: Et cùm exustus ager morientibus aestuat herbis, Ecce supercilio clivosi tramitis undam Elicit: Illa cadens raucum per levia murmur Saxa ciet, scatebris{que} arentia temperat arva.
Dacier.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 322. Oh had I dy’d in Fields of Battel warm! &c.]
Nothing is more agreeable than this Wish to the heroick Character of Achilles: Glory is his prevailing Passion; he grieves not that he must die, but that he should die unlike a Man of Honour. Virgil has made use of the same Thought in the same Circumstance, where Aeneas is in danger of being drowned, Aen. 1. ℣. 98.
—O ter{que} quaterque beati, Queis ante ora patrum Trojae sub moenibus altis Contigit oppetere! O Danaûm fortissime gentis Tydide, mene Iliacis occumbere campis Non potuisse? tuâque animam hanc effundere dextrâ!
Lucan, in the fifth Book of his Pharsalia, representing Caesar in the same Circumstance, has (I think) yet farther the Character of Ambition, and a boundless Thirst of Glory, in his Hero; when, after he has repin’d in the same manner with Achilles, he acquiesces at last in the Reflection of the Glory he had already acquired,
—Licet ingentes abruperit actus Festinata dies fatis, sat magna peregi. Arctoas domui gentes: inimica subegi Arma manu: vidit Magnum mihi Roma secundum.
And only wishes that his obscure Fate might be conceal’d, in the view that all the World might still fear and expect him.
—Lacerum retinete cadaver Fluctibus in mediis; desint mihi busta, rogusque, Dum metuar semper, terrâque expecter ab omni.
Note XIX.
VERSE 406. While Vulcan breath’d the fiery Blast around. ]
It is in the Original, ℣. 355.
[Greek]
The Epithet given to Vulcan in this Verse (as well as in the 367 th [Greek], has no sort of Allusion to the Action describ’d: For what has his Wisdom or Knowledge to do with burning up the River Xanthus? This is usual in our Author, and much exclaim’d against by his modern Antagonists, whom Mr. Boileau very well answers.
"It is not so strange in Homer to give these Epithets to Persons upon occasions which can have no reference to them; the same is frequent in modern Languages, in which we call a Man by the Name of Saint, when we speak of any Action of his that has not the least regard to his Sanctity: As when we say, for example, that St. Paul held the Garments of those who stoned St. Stephen.
Note XX.
VERSE 425. As when the Flames beneath a Caldron rise. ]
It is impossible to render literally such Passages with any tolerable Beauty. These Ideas can never be made to shine in English, some Particularities cannot be preserv’d; but the Greek Language gives them Lustre, the Words are noble and musical,
[Greek]
All therefore that can be expected from a Translator is to preserve the Meaning of the Simile, and embellish it with some Words of Affinity that carry nothing low in the Sense or Sound.
Note XXI.
VERSE 447. And soft re-murmur in their native bed. ]
Here ends the Episode of the River-Fight; and I must here lay before the Reader my Thoughts upon the whole of it: Which appears to be in part an Allegory, and in part a true History. Nothing can give a better Idea of Homer’s manner of enlivening his inanimate Machines, and of making the plainest and simplest Incidents noble and poetical, than to consider the whole Passage in the common historical Sense, which I suppose to be no more than this. There happen’d a great Overflow of the River Xanthus during the Seige, which very much incommoded the Assailants: This gave occasion for the Fiction of an Engagement between Achilles and the River-God: Xanthus calling Simois to assist him, implies that these two neighbouring Rivers join’d in the Inundation: Pallas and Neptune relieve Achilles; that is, Pallas, or the Wisdom of Achilles, found some means to divert the Waters, and turn them into the Sea; wherefore Neptune, the God of it, is feign’d to assist him. Jupiter and Juno (by which are understood the aerial Regions) consent to aid Achilles; this may signify, that after this great Flood their happen’d a warm, dry, windy Season, which asswaged the Waters, and dried the Ground: And what makes this in a manner plain, is, that Juno (which signifies the Air ) promises to send the North and West Winds to distress the River. Xanthus being consum’d by Vulcan, that is dried up with Heat, prays to Juno to relieve him: What is this, but that the Drought having almost drunk up his Streams, he has recourse to the Air for Rains to resupply his Current? Or perhaps the whole may signify no more, than that Achilles being on the farther side of the River, plung’d himself in to pursue the Enemy; that in this Adventure he run the risk of being drown’d; that to save himself he laid hold on a fallen Tree, which serv’d to keep him afloat; that he was still carried down the Stream to the Place where was the Confluence of the two Rivers, which is express’d by the one calling the other to his Aid; and that when he came nearer the Sea [ Neptune ] he found means by his Prudence (Pallas) to save himself from his Danger.
If the Reader still should think the Fiction of Rivers speaking and fighting is too bold, the Objection will vanish by considering how much the Heathen Mythology authorizes the Representation of Rivers as Persons: Nay even in old Historians nothing is more common than Stories of Rapes committed by River-Gods: And the Fiction was no way unpresidented, after one of the same nature so well known, as the Engagement between Hercules and the River Achelous.
Note XXII.
VERSE 455. Jove as his Sport, the dreadful Scene descries, And views contending Gods with careless Eyes. ]
I was at a loss for the reason why Jupiter is said to smile at the Discord of the Gods, till I found it in Eustathius; Jupiter, says he, who is the Lord of Nature, is well pleased with the War of the Gods, that is of Earth, Sea, and Air, &c. because the Harmony of all Beings arises from that Discord: Thus Earth is opposite to Water, Air to Earth, and Water to them all; and yet from this Opposition arises that discordant Concord by which all Nature subsists. Thus Heat and Cold, moist and dry, are in a continual War, yet upon this depends the Fertility of the Earth, and the Beauty of the Creation. So that Jupiter who according to the Greeks is the Soul of all, may well be said to smile at this Contention.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 456. The Power of Battels, &c.]
The Combate of Mars and Pallas is plainly allegorical: Justice and Wisdom demanded that an end should be put to this terrible War: the God of War opposes this, but is worsted. Eustathius says that this holds forth the Opposition of Rage and Wisdom; and no sooner has our Reason subdued one Temptation, but another succeeds to reinforce it, thus Venus succours Mars. The Poet seems farther to insinuate, that Reason when it resists a Temptation vigorously, easily overcomes it: So it is with the utmost Facility that Pallas conquers both Mars and Venus. He adds, that Pallas retreated from Mars in order to conquer him; this shews us that the best way to subdue a Temptation is to retreat from it.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 469. Then heav’d the Goddess in her mighty Hand A Stone, &c.]
The Poet has describ’d many of his Heroes in former parts of his Poem, as throwing Stones of enormous Bulk and Weight; but here he rises in his Image: He is describing a Goddess, and has found a way to make that Action excel all human Strength, and be equal to a Deity.
Virgil has imitated this Passage in his twelfth Book, and apply’d it to Turnus; but I can’t help thinking that the action in a Mortal is somewhat extravagantly imagined: What principally renders it so, is an Addition of two Lines to this Simile which he borrows from another part of Homer, only with this difference, that whereas Homer says no two Men could raise such a Stone, Virgil extends it to twelve.
—Saxum circumspicit ingens, Saxum, antiquum, ingens, campo quod forte jacebat, Limes agro positus, litem ut discerneret arvis.
(There is a Beauty in the Repetition of Saxum ingens, in the second Line; it makes us dwell upon the Image, and gives us Leisure to consider the Vastness of the Stone:) The other two Lines are as follow,
Vix illud, lecti bis sex cervice subirent, Qualia nunc hominum producit corpora tellus.
May I be allowed to think, they are not so well introduced in Virgil? For it is just after Turnus is describ’d as weaken’d and oppress’d with his Fears and ill Omens; it exceeds Probability; and Turnus, methinks, looks more like a Knight-Errant in a Romance, than an Hero in an Epick Poem.
Note XXV.
VERSE 508. The God of Ocean, and the God of Light. ]
The Interview between Neptune and Apollo is very judiciously in this place enlarged upon by our Author. The Poem now draws to a Conclusion, the Trojans are to be punish’d for their Perjury and Violence: Homer accordingly with a poetical Justice sums up the Evidence against them, and represents the very Founder of Troy as an injurious person. There have been several References to this Story since the Beginning of the Poem, but he forbore to give it at large till near the end of it; that it might be fresh upon the Memory, and shew, the Trojans deserve the Punishment they are about to suffer.
Eustathius gives the reason why Apollo assists the Trojans, tho’ he had been equally with Neptune affronted by Laomedon: This proceeded from the Honours which Apollo receiv’d from the Posterity of Laomedon; Troy paid him no less Worship than Cilla, or Tenedos; and by these means won him over to a Forgiveness: But Neptune still was slighted, and consequently continued an Enemy to the whole Race.
The same Author gives us various Opinions why Neptune is said to have built the Trojan Wall, and to have been defrauded of his Wages: Some say that Laomedon sacrilegiously took away the Treasures out of the Temples of Apollo and Neptune, to carry on the Fortifications: From whence it was fabled that Neptune and Apollo built the Walls. Others will have it, that two of the Workmen dedicated their Wages to Apollo and Neptune; and that Laomedon detained them: So that he might in some sense be said to defraud the Deities themselves, by with-holding what was dedicated to their Temples.
The reason why Apollo is said to have kept the Herds of Laomedon is not so clear: Eustathius observes that all Plagues first seize upon the four-footed Creation, and are suppos’d to arise from this Deity: Thus Apollo in the first Book sends the Plague into the Grecian Army: The Ancients therefore made him to preside over Cattel, that by preserving them from the Plague, Mankind might be safe from infectious Diseases. Others tell us, that this Employment is ascrib’d to Apollo, because he signifies the Sun: Now the Sun cloaths the Pastures with Grass and Herbs: So that Apollo may be said himself to feed the Cattel, by supplying them with Food. Upon either of these accounts Laomedon may be said to be ungrateful to that Deity, for raising no Temple to his Honour.
It is observable that Homer in this Story ascribes the building of the Wall to Neptune only: I should conjecture the reason might be, that Troy being a Sea-port Town, the chief Strength of it depended upon its Situation, so that the Sea was in a manner a Wall to it: Upon this account Neptune may not improbably be said to have built the Wall.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 537. For what is Man? &c.]
The Poet is very happy in interspersing his Poem with moral Sentences; in this place he steals away his Reader from War and Horror, and gives him a beautiful Admonition of his own Frailty.
"Shall I (says Apollo ) contend with thee for the sake of Man?
Man, who is no more than a Leaf of a Tree, now green and flourishing, but soon wither’d away and gone?"
The Son of Sirach has an Expression which very much resembles this, Ecclus. xiv. 18. As the green Leaves upon a thick Tree some fall, and some grow, so is the Generation of Flesh and Blood, one cometh to an end, and one is born.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 544. And from the Senior God submiss retires. ]
Two things hinder Homer from making Neptune and Apollo fight. First, because having already describ’d the Fight between Vulcan and Xanthus, he has nothing farther to say here, for it is the same Conflict between Humidity and Dryness. Secondly, Apollo being the same with Destiny, and the Ruin of the Trojans being concluded upon and decided, that God can no longer defer it. Dacier.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 557. The female Plague— Fierce to the feeble Race of Womankind, &c.]
The Words in the Original are, Tho’ Jupiter has made you a Lyon to Women. The meaning of this is, that Diana was terrible to that Sex, as being the same with the Moon, and bringing on the Pangs of Child-birth: Or else, that the Ancients attributed all sudden Deaths of Women to the Darts of Diana, as of Men to those of Apollo: Which Opinion is frequently alluded to in Homer. Eustathius.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 580. Whom Hermes viewing, thus declines the War. ]
It is impossible that Mercury should encounter Latona: Such a Fiction would be unnatural, he being a Planet, and she representing the Night; for the Planets owe all their Lustre to the Shades of the Night, and then only become visible to the World. Eustathius.
Note XXX.
VERSE 567. She said, and seiz’d her Wrists, &c.]
I must confess I am at a loss how to justify Homer in every point of these Combats of the Gods: When Diana and Juno are to fight, Juno calls her an impudent Bitch, [Greek]: When they fight, she boxes her soundly, and sends her crying and trembling to Heaven: As soon as she comes thither Jupiter falls a laughing at her: Indeed the rest of the Deities seem to be in a merry Vein during all the Action: Pallas beats Mars, and laughs at him, Jupiter sees them in the same merry mood: Juno when she had cuff’d Diana is not more serious: In short, unless there be some Depths that I am not able to fathom, Homer never better deserv’d than in this place the Censure past upon him by the Ancients, that as he rais’d the Characters of his Men up to Gods, so he sunk those of Gods down to Men.
Yet I think it but reasonable to conclude, from the very Absurdity of all this, supposing it had no hidden Meaning or Allegory, that there must therefore certainly be some. Nor do I think it any Inference to the contrary, that it is too obscure for us to find out: The Remoteness of our Times must necessarily darken yet more and more such Things as were Mysteries at first. Not that it is at all impossible, notwithstanding their present Darkness, but they might then have been very obvious; as it is certain Allegories ought to be disguis’d, but not obscur’d: An Allegory should be like a Veil over a beautiful Face, so fine and transparent, as to shew the very Charms it covers.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 608. As when avenging Flames with Fury driv’n, On guilty Towns exert the Wrath of Heaven. ]
This Passage may be explain’d two ways, each very remarkable. First, by taking this Fire for a real Fire, sent from Heaven to punish a criminal City, of which we have Example in holy Writ. Hence we find that Homer had a Notion of this great Truth, that God sometimes exerts his Judgments on whole Cities in this signal and terrible manner. Or if we take it in the other sense, simply as a Fire thrown into a Town by the Enemies who assault it, (and only express’d thus by the Author in the same manner as Jeremy makes the City of Jerusalem say, when the Chaldaeans burnt the Temple, The Lord from above hath sent Fire into my Bones. Lament. i. 13.) Yet still thus much will appear understood by Homer, that the Fire which is cast into a City comes not properly speaking from Men, but from God who delivers it up to their Fury. Dacier.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 614. High on a Turret hoary Priam, &c.]
The Poet still raises the Idea of the Courage and Strength of his Hero, by making Priam in a Terror that he should enter the Town with the routed Troops: For if he had not surpass’d all Mortals, what could have been more desireable for an Enemy, than to have let him in, and then destroy’d him?
Here again there was need of another Machine to hinder him from entring the City; for Achilles being vastly speedier than those he pursued, he must necessarily overtake some of them, and the narrow Gates could not let in a body of Troops without his mingling with the hindmost. The Story of Agenor is therefore admirably contriv’d, and Apollo, (who was to take care that the fatal Decrees should be punctually executed) interposes both to save Agenor and Troy; for Achilles might have kill’d Agenor, and still enter’d with the Troops, if Apollo had not diverted him by the Pursuit of that Phantom. Agenor oppos’d himself to Achilles only because he could not do better; for he sees himself reduc’d to a Dilemma, either ingloriously to perish among the Fugitives, or hide himself in the Forest; both which were equally unsafe: Therefore he is purposely inspir’d with a generous Resolution to try to save his Countreymen, and as the Reward of that Service, is at last sav’d himself.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 652. What shall I fly? &c.]
This is a very beautiful Soliloquy of Agenor, such a one as would naturally arise in the Soul of a brave Man, going upon a desperate Enterprise: He weighs every thing in the balance of Reason; he sets before himself the Baseness of Flight, and the Courage of his Enemy, till at last the thirst of Glory preponderates all other Considerations. From the Conclusion of this Speech it is evident, that the Story of Achilles his being invulnerable except in the Heel, is an Invention of latter Ages; for had he been so, there had been nothing wonderful in his Character. Eustathius.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 705. Meanwhile the God, to cover their Escape, &c.]
The Poet makes a double use of this Fiction of Apollo’s deceiving Achilles in the Shape of Agenor; by these means he draws him from the Pursuit, and gives the Trojans time to enter the City, and at the same time brings Agenor handsomely off from the Combat. The Moral of this Fable is, that Destiny would not yet suffer Troy to fall.
Eustathius fancies that the occasion of the Fiction might be this: Agenor fled from Achilles to the Banks of Xanthus, and might there conceal himself from the Pursuer behind some Covert that grew on the Shores; this perhaps might be the whole of the Story. So plain a Narration would have pass’d in the Mouth of an Historian, but the Poet dresses it in Fiction, and tells us that Apollo (or Destiny) conceal’d him in a Cloud from the sight of his Enemy.
The same Author farther observes, that Achilles by an unseasonable peice of Vain-glory, in pursuing a single Enemy gives time to a whole Army to escape; he neither kills Agenor, nor overtakes the Trojans.
Book XXII THE TWENTY-SECOND BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Trojans being safe within the Walls, Hector only stays to oppose Achilles. Priam is struck at his approach, and tries to persuade his Son to re-enter the Town. Hecuba joins her Entreaties, but in vain. Hector consults within himself what Measures to take; but at the advance of Achilles, his Resolution fails him, and he flies; Achilles pursues him thrice round the Walls of Troy. The Gods debate concerning the Fate of Hector, at length Minerva descends to the aid of Achilles. She deludes Hector in the Shape of Deiphobus, he stands the Combate, and is slain. Achilles drags the dead Body at his Chariot, in the sight of Priam and Hecuba. Their Lamentations, Tears, and Despair. Their Cries reach the Ears of Andromache, who, ignorant of this, was retired into the inner part of the Palace: She mounts up to the Walls, and beholds her dead Husband. She swoons at the Spectacle. Her Excess of Grief, and Lamentation. The thirtieth Day still continues. The Scene lies under the Walls, and on the Battlements of Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-50] Hector Stands Alone as Achilles Approaches
- [51-107] Priam's Plea from the Walls
- [108-125] Hecuba's Plea to Her Son
- [126-172] Hector's Inner Conflict
- [173-210] The Chase Around the Walls of Troy
- [211-276] The Gods' Debate and the Scales of Fate
- [277-312] Minerva Deceives Hector as Deiphobus
- [313-332] Hector Stops to Fight and Proposes a Pact
- [333-348] Achilles's Furious Rejection of the Pact
- [349-388] The Duel and Hector's Realization of Betrayal
- [389-414] The Death of Hector
- [415-461] Hector's Dying Plea and Final Prophecy
- [462-510] Achilles Desecrates the Body
- [511-561] The Lament of Priam and Hecuba
- [562-607] Andromache's Discovery of Her Husband's Fate
- [608-663] Andromache's Lament for Her Son, Astyanax
THUS to their Bulwarks, smit with Panick Fear,
The herded Ilians rush like driven Deer;
There safe, they wipe the briny Drops away,
And drown in Bowls the Labours of the Day.
Close to the Walls advancing o’er the Fields,
Beneath one Roof of well-compacted Shields
March, bending on, the Greeks embodied Pow’rs,
Far-stretching in the Shade of Trojan Tow’rs.
Great Hector singly stay’d; chain’d down by Fate,
There fixt he stood before the Scaean Gate;
Still his bold Arms determin’d to employ,
The Guardian still of long-defended Troy.
Apollo now to tir’d Achilles turns;
(The Pow’r confest in all his Glory burns)
And what (he cries) has Peleus’ Son in view,
With mortal Speed a Godhead to pursue?
For not to thee to know the Gods is giv’n,
Unskill’d to trace the latent Marks of Heav’n.
What boots thee now, that Troy forsook the Plain?
Vain thy past Labour, and thy present vain:
Safe in their Walls are now her Troops bestow’d,
While here thy frantick Rage attacks a God.
The Chief incens’d—Too partial God of Day!
To check my Conquests in the middle way:
How few in Ilion else had Refuge found?
What gasping Numbers now had bit the Ground?
Thou robb’st me of a Glory justly mine,
Pow’rful of Godhead, and of Fraud Divine:
Mean Fame, alas! for one of heav’nly Strain,
To cheat a Mortal, who repines in vain.
Then to the City, terrible and strong,
With high and haughty steps he towr’d along.
So the proud Courser, victor of the prize,
To the near Goal with doubled Ardor flies.
Him, as he blazing shot across the Field,
The careful Eyes of Priam first beheld.
Not half so dreadful rises to the Sight
Thro’ the thick Gloom of some tempestuous Night
Orion’s Dog (the Year when Autumn weighs)
And o’er the feebler Stars exerts his Rays;
Terrific Glory! for his burning Breath
Taints the red Air with Fevers, Plagues, and Death.
So flam’d his fiery Mail. Then wept the Sage;
He strikes his rev’rend Head now white with Age:
He lifts his wither’d Arms; obtests the Skies;
He calls his much lov’d Son with feeble Cries;
The Son, resolv’d Achilles’ Force to dare,
Full at the Scaean Gates expects the War;
While the sad Father on the Rampart stands,
And thus adjures him, with extended Hands.
50Ah stay not, stay not! guardless and alone;
Hector! my lov’d, my dearest, bravest Son!
Methinks already I behold thee slain,
And stretch’d beneath that Fury of the Plain.
Implacable Achilles! might’st thou be
To all th’ Immortals hateful as to me!
Thee, Vultures wild should scatter round the Shore
And bloody Dogs grow fiercer from thy Gore.
How many valiant Sons I late enjoy’d,
Valiant in vain! by thy curst Arm destroy’d:
Or, worse than slaughter’d, sold in distant Isles
To shameful Bondage and unworthy Toils.
Two, while I speak, my Eyes in vain explore,
Two from one Mother sprung, my Polydore,
And lov’d Lycaon; now perhaps no more!
Oh if in yonder hostile Camp they live,
What Heaps of Gold, what Treasures would I give?
(Their Grandsire’s Wealth, by right of Birth their own,
Consign’d his Daughter with Lelegia’s Throne)
But if (which Heav’n forbid) already lost,
All pale they wander on the Stygian Coast;
What Sorrows then must their sad Mother know,
What Anguish I? Unutterable Woe!
Yet less that Anguish, less to her, to me,
Less to all Troy, if not depriv’d of thee,
Yet shun Achilles! enter yet the Wall;
And spare thy self, thy Father, spare us all!
Save thy dear Life; or if a Soul so brave
Neglect that Thought, thy dearer Glory save.
Pity, while yet I live, these silver Hairs;
While yet thy Father feels the Woes he bears,
Yet curst with Sense! a Wretch, whom in his Rage
(All trembling on the Verge of helpless Age)
Great Jove has plac’d, sad Spectacle of Pain!
The bitter Dregs of Fortune’s Cup to drain:
To fill with Scenes of Death his closing Eyes,
And number all his Days by Miseries!
My Heroes slain, my Bridal Bed o’erturn’d,
My Daughters ravish’d, and my City burn’d,
My bleeding Infants dash’d against the Floor;
These I have yet to see, perhaps yet more!
Perhaps ev’n I, reserv’d by angry Fate
The last sad Relick of my ruin’d State,
(Dire Pomp of sov’reign Wretchedness!) must fall,
And stain the Pavement of my regal Hall;
Where famish’d Dogs, late Guardians of my Door,
Shall lick their mangled Master’s spatter’d Gore.
Yet for my Sons I thank ye Gods! ’twas well:
Well have they perish’d, for in Fight they fell.
Who dies in Youth, and Vigor, dies the best,
100Struck thro’ with Wounds, all honest on the Breast.
But when the Fates, in Fulness of their Rage,
Spurn the hoar Head of unresisting Age,
In Dust the rev’rend Lineaments deform,
And pour to Dogs the Life-blood scarcely warm;
This, this is Misery! the last, the worst,
That Man can feel; Man, fated to be curst!
He said, and acting what no Words could say,
Rent from his Head the silver Locks away.
With him the mournful Mother bears a Part;
Yet all their Sorrows turn not Hector’s Heart:
The Zone unbrac’d, her Bosom she display’d;
And thus, fast-falling the salt Tears, she said.
Have mercy on me, O my Son! Revere
The Words of Age; attend a Parent’s Pray’r!
If ever thee in these fond Arms I prest,
Or still’d thy infant Clamours at this Breast;
Ah do not thus our helpless Years foregoe,
But by our Walls secur’d, repel the Foe.
Against his Rage if singly thou proceed,
Should’st thou (but Heav’n avert it!) should’st thou bleed,
Nor must thy Corps lye honour’d on the Bier,
Nor Spouse nor Mother grace thee with a Tear;
Far from our pious Rites, those dear Remains
Must feast the Vultures on the naked Plains.
So they, while down their Cheeks the Torrents roll;
But fix’d remains the Purpose of his Soul:
Resolv’d he stands, and with a fiery Glance
Expects the Hero’s terrible Advance.
So roll’d up in his Den, the swelling Snake
Beholds the Traveller approach the Brake;
When fed with noxious Herbs his turgid Veins
Have gather’d half the Poisons of the Plains;
He burns, he stiffens with collected Ire,
And his red Eye-balls glare with living Fire.
Beneath a Turret, on his Shield reclin’d,
He stood, and question’d thus his mighty Mind.
Where lyes my Way? To enter in the Wall?
Honour and Shame th’ ungen’rous Thought recall:
Shall proud Polydamas before the Gate
Proclaim, his Counsels are obey’d too late,
Which, timely follow’d but the former Night,
What Numbers had been sav’d by Hector’s Flight?
That wise Advice rejected with Disdain,
I feel my Folly in my People slain.
Methinks my suff’ring Country’s Voice I hear,
But most, her worthless Sons insult my Ear,
On my rash Courage charge the Chance of War,
And blame those Virtues which they cannot share.
No—If I e’er return, return I must
150Glorious, my Country’s Terror laid in Dust:
Or if I perish, let her see me fall
In Field at least, and fighting for her Wall.
And yet suppose these Measures I forego,
Approach unarm’d, and parly with the Foe,
The Warrior-Shield, the Helm, and Lance lay down,
And treat on Terms of Peace to save the Town:
The Wife with-held, the Treasure ill detain’d,
(Cause of the War, and Grievance of the Land)
With honourable Justice to restore;
And add half Ilion’s yet remaining Store,
Which Troy shall, sworn, produce; that injur’d Greece
May share our Wealth, and leave our Walls in Peace.
But why this Thought? Unarm’d if I should go,
What hope of Mercy from this vengeful Foe?
But Woman-like to fall, and fall without a Blow.
We greet not here, as Man conversing Man
Met at an Oak, or journeying o’er a Plain;
No Season now for calm familiar Talk,
Like Youths and Maidens in an Evening Walk:
War is our Business; but to whom is giv’n
To die or triumph, that, determine Heav’n!
Thus pond’ring, like a God the Greek drew nigh;
His dreadful Plumage nodded from on high;
The Pelian Jav’lin, in his better Hand,
Shot trembling Rays that glitter’d o’er the Land;
And on his Breast the beamy Splendors shone
Like Jove’s own Lightning, or the rising Sun.
As Hector sees, unusual Terrors rise,
Struck by some God, he fears, recedes, and flies.
He leaves the Gates, he leaves the Walls behind;
Achilles follows like the winged Wind.
Thus at the panting Dove a Falcon flies,
(The swiftest Racer of the liquid Skies)
Just when he holds or thinks he holds his Prey,
Obliquely wheeling thro’ th’ aerial Way;
With open Beak and shrilling Cries he springs,
And aims his Claws, and shoots upon his Wings:
No less fore-right the rapid Chace they held,
One urg’d by Fury, one by Fear impell’d;
Now circling round the Walls their Course maintain,
Where the high Watch-tow’r overlooks the Plain;
Now where the Fig-trees spread their Umbrage broad,
(A wider Compass) smoak along the Road.
Next by Scamander’s double Source they bound,
Where two fam’d Fountains burst the parted Ground;
This hot thro’ scorching Clefts is seen to rise,
With Exhalations steaming to the Skies;
That the green Banks in Summer’s Heat o’erflows,
Like Crystal clear, and cold as Winter-Snows.
200Each gushing Fount a marble Cistern fills,
Whose polish’d Bed receives the falling Rills;
Where Trojan Dames, (e’er yet alarm’d by Greece, )
Wash’d their fair Garments in the Days of Peace.
By these they past, one chasing, one in Flight,
(The Mighty fled, pursu’d by stronger Might)
Swift was the Course; No vulgar Prize they play,
No vulgar Victim must reward the Day,
(Such as in Races crown the speedy Strife)
The Prize contended was great Hector’s Life.
As when some Hero’s Fun’rals are decreed
In grateful Honour of the mighty Dead;
Where high Rewards the vig’rous Youth inflame,
(Some golden Tripod, or some lovely Dame)
The panting Coursers swiftly turn the Goal,
And with them turns the rais’d Spectator’s Soul.
Thus three times round the Trojan Wall they fly;
The gazing Gods lean forward from the Sky:
To whom, while eager on the Chace they look,
The Sire of Mortals and Immortals spoke.
Unworthy Sight! The Man, belov’d of Heav’n,
Behold, inglorious round yon’ City driv’n!
My Heart partakes the gen’rous Hector’s Pain;
Hector, whose Zeal whole Hecatombs has slain,
Whose grateful Fumes the Gods receiv’d with Joy,
From Ida’s Summits, and the Tow’rs of Troy:
Now see him flying! to his Fears resign’d,
And Fate, and fierce Achilles, close behind.
Consult, ye Pow’rs! (’tis worthy your Debate)
Whether to snatch him from impending Fate,
Or let him bear, by stern Pelides slain,
(Good as he is) the Lot impos’d on Man?
Then Pallas thus: Shall he whose Vengeance forms
The forky Bolt, and blackens Heav’n with Storms,
Shall he prolong one Trojan’s forfeit Breath!
A Man, a Mortal, pre-ordain’d to Death!
And will no Murmurs fill the Courts above,
No Gods indignant blame their partial Jove?
Go then (return’d the Sire) without delay,
Exert thy Will: I give the Fates their Way.
Swift at the Mandate pleas’d Tritonia flies,
And stoops impetuous from the cleaving Skies.
As thro’ the Forest, o’er the Vale and Lawn,
The well-breath’d Beagle drives the flying Fawn;
In vain he tries the Covert of the Brakes,
Or deep beneath the trembling Thicket shakes;
Sure of the Vapour in the tainted Dews,
The certain Hound his various Maze pursues.
Thus step by step, where’er the Trojan wheel’d,
There swift Achilles compass’d round the Field.
250Oft’ as to reach the Dardan Gates he bends,
And hopes th’ Assistance of his pitying Friends,
(Whose show’ring Arrows, as he cours’d below,
From the high Turrets might oppress the Foe.)
So oft’ Achilles turns him to the Plain:
He eyes the City, but he eyes in vain.
As Men in Slumbers seem with speedy pace,
One to pursue, and one to lead the Chace,
Their sinking Limbs the fancy’d Course forsake,
Nor this can fly, nor that can overtake.
No less the lab’ring Heroes pant and strain;
While that but flies, and this pursues, in vain.
What God, O Muse! assisted Hector’s Force,
With Fate itself so long to hold the Course?
Phoebus it was; who, in his latest Hour,
Endu’d his Knees with strength, his Nerves with Pow’r:
And great Achilles, lest some Greek’s Advance
Should snatch the Glory from his lifted Lance,
Sign’d to the Troops, to yield his Foe the Way,
And leave untouch’d the Honours of the Day.
Jove lifts the golden Balances, that show
The Fates of mortal Men, and things below:
Here each contending Hero’s Lot he tries,
And weighs, with equal Hand, their Destinies.
Low sinks the Scale surcharg’d with Hector’s Fate;
Heavy with Death it sinks, and Hell receives the Weight.
Then Phoebus left him. Fierce Minerva flies
To stern Pelides, and triumphing, cries.
Oh lov’d of Jove! this Day our Labours cease,
And Conquest blazes with full Beams on Greece.
Great Hector falls; that Hector fam’d so far,
Drunk with Renown, insatiable of War,
Falls by thy Hand, and mine! Nor Force, nor Flight
Shall more avail him, nor his God of Light.
See, where in vain he supplicates above,
Roll’d at the Feet of unrelenting Jove!
Rest here: My self will lead the Trojan on,
And urge to meet the Fate he cannot shun.
Her Voice divine the Chief with joyful Mind
Obey’d; and rested, on his Lance reclin’d.
While like Deïphobus the martial Dame
(Her Face, her Gesture, and her Arms the same)
In show an Aid, by hapless Hector’s Side
Approach’d, and greets him thus with Voice bely’d.
Too long, O Hector! have I born the Sight
Of this Distress, and sorrow’d in thy Flight:
It fits us now a noble Stand to make,
And here, as Brothers, equal Fates partake.
Then he. O Prince! ally’d in Blood and Fame,
Dearer than all that own a Brother’s Name;
300Of all that Hecuba to Priam bore,
Long try’d, long lov’d; much lov’d, but honour’d more!
Since You of all our num’rous Race, alone
Defend my Life regardless of your own.
Again the Goddess. Much my Father’s Pray’r,
And much my Mother’s, prest me to forbear:
My Friends embrac’d my Knees, adjur’d my stay,
But stronger Love impell’d, and I obey.
Come then, the glorious Conflict let us try,
Let the Steel sparkle, and the Jav’lin fly:
Or let us stretch Achilles on the Field,
Or to his Arm our bloody Trophies yield.
Fraudful she said; then swiftly march’d before;
The Dardan Hero shuns his Foe no more.
Sternly they met. The Silence Hector broke;
His dreadful Plumage nodded as he spoke.
Enough, O Son of Peleus! Troy has view’d
Her Walls thrice circled, and her Chief pursu’d.
But now some God within me bids me try
Thine, or my Fate: I kill thee, or I die.
Yet on the Verge of Battel let us stay,
And for a Moment’s space, suspend the Day:
Let Heav’ns high Pow’rs be call’d to arbitrate
The just Conditions of this stern Debate.
(Eternal Witnesses of all below,
And faithful Guardians of the treasur’d Vow!)
To them I swear; if Victor in the Strife
Jove by these Hands shall shed thy noble Life;
No vile Dishonour shall thy Corse pursue;
Stript of its Arms alone (the Conqu’rors Due)
The rest to Greece uninjur’d I’ll restore:
Now plight thy mutual Oath, I ask no more.
Talk not of Oaths (the dreadful Chief replies,
While Anger flash’d from his disdainful Eyes)
Detested as thou art, and ought to be,
Nor Oath nor Pact Achilles plights with thee:
Such Pacts, as Lambs and rabid Wolves combine,
Such Leagues, as Men and furious Lions join,
To such I call the Gods! One constant state
Of lashing Rancour and eternal Hate:
No Thought but Rage, and never-ceasing Strife,
Till Death extinguish Rage, and Thought, and Life.
Rouze then thy Forces this important Hour;
Collect thy Soul, and call forth all thy Pow’r.
No farther Subterfuge, no farther Chance;
’Tis Pallas, Pallas gives thee to my Lance.
Each Grecian Ghost by thee depriv’d of Breath,
Now hovers round, and calls thee to thy Death.
He spoke, and lanch’d his Jav’lin at the Foe;
But Hector shun’d the meditated Blow:
350He stoop’d, while o’er his Head the flying Spear
Sung innocent, and spent its Force in Air.
Minerva watch’d it falling on the Land,
Then drew, and gave to great Achilles’ Hand,
Unseen of Hector, who, elate with Joy,
Now shakes his Lance, and braves the Dread of Troy.
The Life you boasted to that Jav’lin giv’n,
Prince! you have mist. My Fate depends on Heav’n.
To thee (presumptuous as thou art) unknown,
Or what must prove my Fortune or thy own.
Boasting is but an Art, our Fears to blind,
And with false Terrors sink another’s Mind.
But know, whatever Fate I am to try,
By no dishonest Wound shall Hector die;
I shall not fall a Fugitive at least,
My Soul shall bravely issue from my Breast.
But first, try thou my Arm; and may this Dart
End all my Country’s Woes, deep buried in thy Heart!
The Weapon flew, its Course unerring held,
Unerring, but the heav’nly Shield repell’d
The mortal Dart; resulting with a Bound
From off the ringing Orb, it struck the Ground.
Hector beheld his Jav’lin fall in vain,
Nor other Lance, nor other Hope remain;
He calls Deïphobus, demands a Spear,
In vain, for no Deïphobus was there.
All comfortless he stands: Then, with a Sigh,
’Tis so—Heav’n wills it, and my Hour is nigh!
I deem’d Deïphobus had heard my Call,
But he secure lyes guarded in the Wall.
A God deceiv’d me; Pallas, ’twas thy Deed.
Death, and black Fate approach! ’Tis I must bleed.
No Refuge now, no Succour from above;
Great Jove deserts me, and the Son of Jove,
Propitious once, and kind! Then welcome Fate!
’Tis true I perish, yet I’ perish great:
Yet in a mighty Deed I shall expire,
Let future Ages hear it, and admire!
Fierce, at the Word, his weighty Sword he drew
And, all collected, on Achilles flew.
So Jove’s bold Bird, high-balanc’d in the Air,
Stoops from the Clouds to truss the quiv’ring Hare.
Nor less Achilles his fierce Soul prepares;
Before his Breast his flaming Shield he bears,
Refulgent Orb! Above his four-fold Cone
The gilded Horsehair sparkled in the Sun,
Nodding at ev’ry Step: ( Vulcanian Frame!)
And as he mov’d, his Figure seem’d on flame.
As radiant Hesper shines with keener Light,
Far-beaming o’er the silver Host of Night,
400When all the starry Train emblaze the Sphere:
So shone the Point of great Achilles’ Spear.
In his right Hand he waves the Weapon round,
Eyes the whole Man, and meditates the Wound;
But the rich Mail Patroclus lately wore,
Securely cas’d the Warrior’s Body o’er.
One at cealp length he spies, to let in Fate,
Where ’twixt the Neck and Throat the jointed Plate
Gave entrance: Thro’ that penetrable Part
Furious he drove the well-directed Dart:
Nor pierc’d the Windpipe yet, nor took the Pow’r
Of Speech, Unhappy! from thy dying Hour.
Prone on the Field the bleeding Warrior lies,
While thus triumphing, stern Achilles cries.
At last is Hector stretch’d upon the Plain,
Who fear’d no Vengeance for Patroclus slain:
Then Prince! you should have fear’d, what now you feel;
Achilles absent, was Achilles still.
Yet a short space the great Avenger stay’d,
Then low in Dust thy Strength and Glory lay’d.
Peaceful He sleeps, with all our Rites adorn’d,
For ever honour’d, and for ever mourn’d:
While cast to all the Rage of hostile Pow’r,
Thee, Birds shall mangle, and the Dogs devour.
Then Hector, fainting at th’approach of Death.
By thy own Soul! by those who gave thee Breath!
By all the sacred Prevalence of Pray’r;
Ah, leave me not for Grecian Dogs to tear!
The common Rites of Sepulture bestow,
To sooth a Father’s and a Mother’s Woe;
Let their large Gifts procure an Urn at least,
And Hector’s Ashes in his Country rest.
No, Wretch accurst! Relentless he replies,
(Flames, as he spoke, shot flashing from his Eyes)
Not those who gave me Breath shou’d bid me spare,
Nor all the sacred Prevalence of Pray’r.
Could I my self the bloody Banquet join!
No—to the Dogs that Carcase I resign.
Shou’d Troy, to bribe me, bring forth all her Store,
And giving thousands, offer thousands more;
Should Dardan Priam, and the weeping Dame
Drain their whole Realm to buy one fun’ral Flame;
Their Hector on the Pile they should not see,
Nor rob the Vultures of one Limb of thee.
Then thus the Chief his dying Accents drew;
Thy Rage, Implacable! too well I knew:
The Furies that relentless Breast have steel’d,
And curs’d thee with a Heart that cannot yield.
Yet think, a Day will come, when Fate’s Decree
And angry Gods, shall wreak this Wrong on thee;
450Phoebus and Paris shall avenge my Fate,
And stretch thee here, before this Scaean Gate.
He ceas’d. The Fates supprest his lab’ring Breath,
And his Eyes stiffen’d at the Hand of Death;
To the dark Realm the Spirit wings its Way,
(The manly Body left a Load of Clay)
And plaintive glides along the dreary Coast,
A naked, wandring, melancholy Ghost!
Achilles, musing as he roll’d his eyes
O’er the dead Hero, thus (unheard) replies.
Die thou the first! When Jove and Heav’n ordain,
I follow thee—He said, and stripp’d the Slain.
Then forcing backward from the gaping Wound
The reeking Jav’lin, cast it on the Ground.
The thronging Greeks behold with wond’ring Eyes
His manly Beauty, and superiour Size:
While some ignobler, the great Dead deface
With Wounds ungen’rous, or with Taunts disgrace.
"How chang’d that Hector! who like Jove of late,
"Sent Lightning on our Fleets, and scatter’d Fate?
High o’er the Slain the great Achilles stands,
Begirt with Heroes, and surrounding Bands;
And thus aloud, while all the Host attends.
Princes and Leaders! Countrymen and Friends!
Since now at length the pow’rful Will of Heav’n
The dire Destroyer to our Arm has giv’n,
Is not Troy fall’n already? Haste, ye Pow’rs!
See, if already their deserted Tow’rs
Are left unman’d; or if they yet retain
The Souls of Heroes, their great Hector slain?
But what is Troy, or Glory what to me?
Or why reflects my Mind on ought but thee
Divine Patroclus! Death has seal’d his Eyes;
Unwept, unhonour’d, uninterr’d he lies!
Can his dear Image from my Soul depart,
Long as the vital Spirit moves my Heart?
If, in the silent Shades of Hell below,
The Flames of Friends and Lovers cease to glow,
Yet mine shall sacred last; mine, undecay’d,
Burn on thro’ Death, and animate my Shade.
Meanwhile ye Sons of Greece! in Triumph bring
The Corps of Hector, and your Paeans sing.
Be this the Song, slow-moving tow’rd the Shore,
" Hector is dead, and Ilion is no more.
Then his fell Soul a Thought of Vengeance bred,
(Unworthy of himself, and of the Dead)
The nervous Ancles bor’d, his Feet he bound
With Thongs inserted thro’ the double Wound;
These fix’d up high behind the rolling Wain,
His graceful Head was trail’d along the Plain.
500Proud on his Car th’insulting Victor stood,
And bore aloft his Arms, distilling Blood.
He smites the Steeds; the rapid Chariot flies;
The sudden Clouds of circling Dust arise.
Now lost is all that formidable Air;
The Face divine, and long-descending Hair
Purple the Ground, and streak the sable Sand;
Deform’d, dishonour’d, in his native Land!
Giv’n to the Rage of an insulting Throng!
And, in his Parent’s Sight, now dragg’d along!
The Mother first beheld with sad survey;
She rent her Tresses, venerably grey,
And cast, far off, the regal Veils away.
With piercing Shrieks his bitter Fate she moans,
While the sad Father answers Groans with Groans,
Tears after Tears his mournful Cheeks o’erflow,
And the whole City wears one Face of Woe.
No less, than if the Rage of hostile Fires
From her Foundations curling to her Spires,
O’er the proud Citadel at length should rise,
And the last Blaze send Ilion to the Skies.
The wretched Monarch of the falling State
Distracted, presses to the Dardan Gate.
Scarce the whole People stop his desp’rate Course,
While strong Affliction gives the Feeble Force:
Grief tears his Heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging Impotence of Woe.
At length he roll’d in Dust, and thus begun:
Imploring all, and naming one by one.
Ah! let me, let me go where Sorrow calls;
I, only I, will issue from your Walls,
(Guide or Companion, Friends! I ask ye none)
And bow before the Murd’rer of my Son.
My Griefs perhaps his Pity may engage;
Perhaps at least he may respect my Age.
He has a Father too; a Man like me,
One, not exempt from Age and Misery,
(Vig’rous no more, as when his young Embrace
Begot this Pest of me, and all my Race.)
How many valiant Sons, in early Bloom,
Has that curst Hand sent headlong to the Tomb?
Thee, Hector! last: Thy Loss (divinely brave)
Sinks my sad Soul with Sorrow to the Grave.
Oh had thy gentle Spirit past in Peace,
The Son expiring in the Sire’s Embrace;
While both thy Parents wept thy fatal Hour,
And bending o’er thee, mix’d the tender Show’r!
Some Comfort that had been, some sad Relief,
To melt in full Satiety of Grief!
Thus wail’d the Father, grov’ling on the Ground,
550And all the Eyes of Ilion stream’d around.
Amidst her Matrons Hecuba appears,
(A mourning Princess, and a Train in Tears)
Ah why has Heav’n prolong’d this hated Breath,
Patient of Horrors, to behold thy Death?
O Hector, late thy Parents Pride and Joy,
The Boast of Nations! the Defence of Troy!
To whom her Safety and her Fame she ow’d,
Her Chief, her Hero, and almost her God!
O fatal Change! become in one sad Day
A senseless Corps! inanimated Clay!
But not as yet the fatal News had spread
To fair Andromache, of Hector dead;
As yet no Messenger had told his Fate,
Nor ev’n his Stay without the Scaean Gate.
Far in the close Recesses of the Dome,
Pensive she ply’d the melancholy Loom;
A growing Work employ’d her secret Hours,
Confus’dly gay with intermingled Flowr’s.
Her fair-hair’d Handmaids heat the brazen Urn,
The Bath preparing for her Lord’s Return:
In vain: Alas! her Lord returns no more!
Unbath’d he lies, and bleeds along the Shore!
Now from the Walls the Clamours reach her Ear,
And all her Members shake with sudden Fear;
Forth from her Iv’ry Hand the Shuttle falls,
As thus, astonish’d, to her Maids she calls.
Ah follow me! (she cry’d) what plaintive Noise
Invades my Ear? ’Tis sure my Mother’s Voice.
My falt’ring Knees their trembling Frame desert,
A Pulse unusual flutters at my Heart.
Some strange Disaster, some reverse of Fate
Ye (Gods avert it) threats the Trojan State.
Far be the Omen which my Thoughts suggest!
But much I fear my Hector’s dauntless Breast
Confronts Achilles; chas’d along the Plain,
Shut from our Walls! I fear, I fear him slain!
Safe in the Crowd he ever scorn’d to wait,
And sought for Glory in the Jaws of Fate:
Perhaps that noble Heat has cost his Breath,
Now quench’d for ever in the Arms of Death.
She spoke; and furious, with distracted Pace,
Fears in her Heart, and Anguish in her Face,
Flies thro’ the Dome, (the Maids her Steps pursue)
And mounts the Walls, and sends around her View.
Too soon her Eyes the killing Object found,
The god-like Hector dragg’d along the Ground.
A sudden Darkness shades her swimming Eyes:
She faints, she falls; her Breath, her Colour flies.
Her Hair’s fair Ornaments, the Braids that bound,
600The Net that held them, and the Wreath that crown’d,
The Veil and Diadem, flew far away;
(The Gift of Venus on her bridal Day)
Around, a Train of weeping Sisters stands,
To raise her sinking with assistant Hands.
Scarce from the Verge of Death recall’d, again
She faints, or but recovers to complain.
O wretched Husband of a wretched Wife!
Born with one Fate, to one unhappy Life!
For sure one Star its baneful Beam display’d
On Priam’s Roof, and Hippoplacia’s Shade.
From diff’rent Parents, diff’rent Climes we came,
At diff’rent Periods, yet our Fate the same!
Why was my Birth to great Aëtion ow’d,
And why was all that tender Care bestow’d?
Would I had never been!—O thou, the Ghost
Of my dead Husband! miserably lost!
Thou to the dismal Realms for ever gone!
And I abandon’d, desolate, alone!
An only Child, once Comfort of my Pains,
Sad Product now of hapless Love, remains!
No more to smile upon his Sire! no Friend
To help him now! No Father to defend!
For should he ’scape the Sword, the common Doom,
What Wrongs attend him, and what Griefs to come?
Ev’n from his own paternal Roof expell’d,
Some Stranger plows his patrimonial Field.
The Day, that to the Shades the Father sends,
Robs the sad Orphan of his Father’s Friends:
He, wretched Outcast of Mankind! appears
For ever sad, for ever bath’d in Tears;
Amongst the Happy, unregarded he,
Hangs on the Robe, or trembles at the Knee,
While those his Father’s former bounty fed,
Nor reach the Goblet, nor divide the Bread:
The Kindest but his present Wants allay,
To leave him wretched the succeeding Day.
Frugal Compassion! Heedless they who boast
Both Parents still, nor feel what he has lost,
Shall cry, "Begone! Thy Father feasts not here:
The Wretch obeys, retiring with a Tear.
Thus wretched, thus retiring all in Tears,
To my sad Soul Astyanax appears!
Forc’d by repeated Insults to return,
And to his widow’d Mother vainly mourn.
He, who with tender Delicacy bred,
With Princes sported, and on Dainties fed,
And when still Ev’ning gave him up to Rest,
Sunk soft in Down upon the Nurse’s Breast,
Must—ah what must he not? Whom Ilion calls
650Astyanax, from her well-guarded Walls,
Is now that Name no more, unhappy Boy!
Since now no more the Father guards his Troy.
But thou my Hector ly’st expos’d in Air,
Far from thy Parent’s and thy Consort’s Care,
Whose Hand in vain, directed by her Love,
The martial Scarf and Robe of Triumph wove.
Now to devouring Flames be these a Prey,
Useless to thee, from this accursed Day!
Yet let the Sacrifice at least be paid,
An Honour to the Living, not the Dead!
So spake the mournful Dame: Her Matrons hear,
Sigh back her Sighs, and answer Tear with Tear.
Observations on the 22nd Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
Note I.
IT is impossible but the whole Attention of the Reader must be awaken’d in this Book: The Heroes of the two Armies are now to encounter, all the foregoing Battels have been but so many Preludes and Under-actions, in order to this great Event: Wherein the whole Fate of Greece and Troy is to be decided by the Sword of Achilles and Hector. This is the Book, which of the whole Iliad appears to me the most charming. It assembles in it all that can be imagined of great and important on the one hand, and of tender and melancholy on the other. Terror and Pity are here wrought up in Perfection, and if the Reader is not sensible of both in a high degree, either he is utterly void of all Taste, or the Translator of all Skill, in Poetry.
Note II.
VERSE 37. Not half so dreadful rises, &c.]
With how much dreadful Pomp is Achilles here introduced! How noble, and in what bold Colours hath he drawn the blazing of his Arms, the Rapidity of his Advance, the Terror of his Appearance, the Desolation around him; but above all, the certain Death attending all his Motions and his very Looks; what a Crowd of terrible Ideas in this one Simile!
But immediately after this, follows the moving Image of the two aged Parents, trembling, weeping, and imploring their Son: That is succeeded again by the dreadful gloomy Picture of Hector, all on fire, obstinately bent on Death, and expecting Achilles; admirably painted in the Simile of the Snake roll’d up in his Den and collecting his Poisons: And indeed thro’ the whole Book this wonderful Contrast and Opposition of the Moving and of the Terrible, is perpetually kept up, each heightening the other: I can’t find Words to express how so great Beauties affect me.
Note III.
VERSE 51. The Speech of Priam to Hector.]
The Poet has entertain’d us all along with various Scenes of Slaughter and Horrour: He now changes to the pathetick, and fills the Mind of the Reader with tender Sorrows. Eustathius observes that Priam preludes to his Words by Actions expressive of Misery: The unhappy Orator introduces his Speech to Hector with Groans and Tears, and rending his hoary Hair. The Father and the King plead with Hector to preserve his Life and his Country. He represents his own Age, and the Loss of many of his Children; and adds, that if Hector falls, he should then be inconsolable, and the Empire of Troy at an end.
It is a piece of great Judgment in Homer to make the Fall of Troy to depend upon the Death of Hector: The Poet does not openly tell us that Troy was taken by the Greeks, but that the Reader might not be unacquainted with what happen’d after the Period of his Poem, he gives us to understand in this Speech, that the City was taken, and that Priam, his Wives, his Sons and Daughters, were either kill’d or made Slaves.
Note IV.
VERSE 76. Enter yet the Wall, and save, &c.]
The Argument that Priam uses (says Eustathius ) to induce Hector to secure himself in Troy is remarkable; he draws it not from Hector’s Fears, nor does he tell him that he is to save his own Life; but he insists upon stronger Motives: He tells him he may preserve his Fellow-Citizens, his Country, and his Father; and farther, persuades him not to add Glory to his mortal Enemy by his Fall.
Note V.
VERSE 90. My bleeding Infants dash’d against the Floor. ]
Cruelties which the Barbarians usually exercis’d in the sacking of Towns. Thus Isaiah foretels to Babylon that her Children shall be dash’d in pieces before her Eyes by the Medes. Infantes eorum allidentur in oculis eorum, xii. 16. And David says to the same City, Happy shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the Stones. Psal. cxxxvii. 9. And in the Prophet Hosea, xiii. 16. Their Infants shall be dash’d in pieces. Dacier.
Note VI.
VERSE 102. But when the Fates, &c.]
Nothing can be more moving than the Image which Homer gives here, in comparing the different Effects produc’d by the View of a young Man, and that of an old one, both bleeding, and extended on the Dust. The old Man ’tis certain touches us most, and several Reasons may be given for it; the principal is, that the young Man defended himself, and his Death is glorious; whereas an old Man has no defence but his Weakness, Prayers, and Tears. They must be very insensible of what is dreadful, and have no Taste in Poetry, who omit this Passage in a Translation, and substitute things of a trivial and insipid Nature. Dacier.
Note VII.
VERSE 114. The Speech of Hecuba,]
The Speech of Hecuba opens with as much Tenderness as that of Priam: The Circumstance in particular of her shewing that Breast to her Son which had sustain’d his Infancy, is highly moving: It is a silent kind of Oratory, and prepares the Heart to listen, by prepossessing the Eye in favour of the Speaker.
Eustathius takes notice of the Difference between the Speeches of Priam and Hecuba: Priam dissuades him from the Combat by enumerating not only the Loss of his own Family, but of his whole Country: Hecuba dwells entirely upon his single Death; this is a great Beauty in the Poet, to make Priam a Father to his whole Countrey; but to describe the Fondness of the Mother as prevailing over all other Considerations, and to mention that only which chiefly affects her.
This puts me in mind of a judicious Stroke in Milton, with regard to the several Characters of Adam and Eve. When the Angel is driving them both out of Paradise, Adam grieves that he must leave a place where he had convers’d with God and his Angels; but Eve laments that she shall never more behold the fine Flowers of Eden: Here Adam mourns like a Man, and Eve like a Woman.
Note VIII.
VERSE 140. The Soliloquy of Hector.]
There is much Greatness in the Sentiments of this whole Soliloquy. Hector prefers Death to an ignominious Life: He knows how to die with Glory, but not how to live with Dishonour. The Reproach of Polydamas affects him; the Scandals of the meanest People have an Influence on his Thoughts.
’Tis remarkable that he does not say, he fears the Insults of the braver Trojans, but of the most worthless only. Men of Merit are always the most candid; but others are ever for bringing all Men to a Level with themselves. They cannot bear that any one should be so bold as to excel, and are ready to pull him down to them, upon the least Miscarriage. This Sentiment is perfectly fine, and agreeable to the way of thinking natural to a great and sensible Mind.
There is a very beautiful Break in the middle of this Speech. Hector’s Mind fluctuates every way, he is calling a Council in his own Breast, and consulting what Method to pursue: He doubts if he should not propose Terms of Peace to Achilles, and grants him very large Concessions; but of a sudden he checks himself, and leaves the Sentence unfinish’d. The Paragraph runs thus,
"If, says Hector, I should offer him the largest Conditions, give all that Troy contains—
There he stops, and immediately subjoins,
"But why do I delude myself, &c.
’Tis evident from this Speech that the Power of making Peace was in Hector’s Hands: For unless Priam had transfer’d it to him he could not have made these Propositions. So that it was Hector who broke the Treaty in the third Book; (where the very same Conditions were propos’d by Agamemnon. ) ’Tis Hector therefore that is guilty, he is blameable in continuing the War, and involving the Greeks and Trojans in Blood. This Conduct in Homer was necessary; he observes a poetical Justice, and shews us that Hector is a Criminal, before he brings him to Death. Eustathius.
Note IX.
VERSE 141. Shall proud Polydamas, &c. ]
Hector alludes to the Counsel given him by Polydamas in the eighteenth Book, which he then neglected to follow: It was, to withdraw to the City, and fortify themselves there, before Achilles return’d to the Battel.
Note X.
VERSE 167. We greet not here as Man conversing Man, Met at an Oak, or journeying o’er a Plain, &c.]
The Words literally are these,
" There is no talking with Achilles,
[Greek], from an Oak, or from a Rock, [or about an Oak or a Rock] as a young Man and a Maiden talk together.
It is thought an obscure Passage, tho’ I confess I am either too fond of my own Explication in the above-cited Verses, or they make it a very clear one.
"There is no conversing with this implacable Enemy in the Rage of Battel; as when sauntring People talk at leisure to one another on the Road, or when young Men and Women meet in a Field."
I think the Exposition of Eustathius more farfetch’d, tho’ it be ingenious; and therefore I must do him the Justice not to suppress it. It was a common Practice, says he, with the Heathens, to expose such Children as they either could not, or would not educate: The Places where they deposited them were usually in the Cavities of Rocks, or the Hollow of Oaks: These Children being frequently found and preserv’d by Strangers, were said to be the Offspring of those Oaks or Rocks where they were found. This gave occasion to the Poets to feign that Men were born of Oaks, and there was a famous Fable too of Deucalion and Pyrrha’s repairing Mankind by casting Stones behind them: It grew at last into a Proverb, to signify idle Tales; so that in the present Passage it imports, that Achilles will not listen to such idle Tales as may pass with silly Maids and fond Lovers. For Fables and Stories (and particularly such Stories as the Preservation, strange Fortune, and Adventures of expos’d Children) are the usual Conversation of young Men and Maidens Eustathius his Explanation may be corroborated by a Parallel Place in the Odyssey; where the Poet says,
[Greek]
The Meaning of which Passage is plainly this, Tell me of what Race you are, for undoubtedly you had a Father and Mother; you are not, according to the old Story, descended from an Oak or a Rock. Where the Word [Greek]shews that this was become an ancient Proverb even in Homer’s Days.
Note XI.
VERSE 180. Struck by some God, he fears, recedes, and flies. ]
I doubt not most Readers are shock’d at the Flight of Hector: It is indeed a high Exaltation of Achilles (which was the Poets chief Care, as he was his chief Hero) that so brave a Man as Hector durst not stand him. While Achilles was at a distance he had fortify’d his Heart with noble Resolutions, but at his approach they all vanish, and he flies. This (as exceptionable as some may think it) may yet be allow’d to be a true Portrait of human Nature; for Distance, as it lessens all Objects, so it does our Fears: But where inevitable Danger approaches, the stoutest Hearts will feel some Apprehensions at certain Fate. It was the Saying of one of the bravest Men in this Age, to one who told him he fear’d nothing, Shew me but a certain Danger, and I shall be as much afraid as any of you. I don’t absolutely pretend to justify this Passage in every point, but only to have thus much granted me, that Hector was in this desperate Circumstance.
First, It will not be found in the whole Iliad, that Hector ever thought himself a Match for Achilles. Homer (to keep this in our Minds) had just now made Priam tell him (as a thing known, for certainly Priam would not insult him at that time) that there was no Comparison between his own Strength, and that of his Antagonist.
— [Greek]
Secondly, we may observe with Dacier, the Degrees by which Homer prepares this Incident. In the 18th Book the mere Sight and Voice of Achilles, unarm’d, has terrify’d and put the whole Trojan Army into Disorder. In the 19th, the very Sound of the coelestial Arms given him by Vulcan, has affrighted his own Myrmidons as they stand about him. In the 20th, he has been upon the point of killing Aeneas, and Hector himself was not sav’d from him but by Apollo’s interposing. In that and the following Book, he makes an incredible Slaughter of all that oppose him; he overtakes most of those that fly from him, and Priam himself opens the Gates of Troy to receive the rest.
Thirdly, Hector stays, not that he hopes to overcome Achilles, but because Shame and the dread of Reproach forbid him to re-enter the City; a Shame (says Eustathius ) which was a Fault, that betray’d him out of his Life, and ruin’d his Countrey. Nay, Homer adds farther, that he only stay’d by the immediate Will of Heaven, intoxicated and irresistibly bound down by Fate.
[Greek]
Fourthly, He had just been reflecting on the Injustice of the War he maintain’d; his Spirits are deprest by Heaven, he expects certain Death, he perceives himself abandon’d by the Gods; (as he directly says in ℣. 300, &c. of the Greek, and 385 of the translation) so that he might say to Achilles what Turnus does to Aeneas,
Dii me terrent, & Jupiter hostis.
This indeed is the strongest Reason that can be offer’d for the Flight of Hector. He flies not from Achilles as a mortal Hero, but from one whom he sees clad in impenetrable Armour, seconded by Minerva, and one who had put to flight the inferior Gods themselves. This is not Cowardice according to the constant Principles of Homer, who thought it no part of a Hero’s Character to be impious, or to fancy himself independent on the supreme Being.
Indeed it had been a grievous Fault, had our Author suffer’d the Courage of Hector entirely to forsake him even in this Extremity: A brave Man’s Soul is still capable of rouzing itself, and acting honourably in the last Struggles. Accordingly Hector, tho’ deliver’d over to his Destiny, abandon’d by the Gods, and certain of Death, yet stops and attacks Achilles; When he loses his Spear, he draws his Sword: it was impossible he should conquer, it was only in his Power to fall gloriously; this he did, and it was all that Man could do.
If the Reader, after all, cannot bring himself to like this Passage, for his own particular; yet to induce him to suspend his absolute Censure, he may consider that Virgil had an uncommon Esteem for it, as he has testify’d in transferring it almost entirely to the Death of Turnus; where there was no necessity of making use of the like Incidents: But doubtless he was touch’d with this Episode, as with one of those which interest us most of the whole Iliad, by a Spectacle at once so terrible, and so deplorable. I must also add the Suffrage of Aristotle, who was so far from looking upon this Passage as ridiculous or blameable, that he esteem’d it marvellous and admirable.
"The wonderful, says he, ought to have place in Tragedy, but still more in Epic Poetry, which proceeds in this Point even to the Unreasonable: For as in Epic Poems one sees not the Persons acting, so whatever passes the Bounds of Reason is proper to produce the admirable and the marvellous. For example, what Homer says of Hector pursued by Achilles, would appear ridiculous on the Stage; for the Spectators could not forbear laughing to see on one side the Greeks standing without any motion, and on the other; Achilles pursuing Hector, and making Signs to the Troops not to dart at him. But all this does not appear when we read the Poem: For what is wonderful is always agreeable, and as a proof of it, we find that they who relate any thing usually add something to the Truth, that it may the better please those who hear it.
The same great Critick vindicates this Passage in the Chapter following.
"A Poet, says he, is inexcusable if he introduces such things as are impossible according to the Rules of Poetry: but this ceases to be a Fault, if by those means he attains to the End he propos’d; for he has then brought about what he intended: For example, if he renders by it any part of his Poem more astonishing or admirable. Such is the Place in the Iliad, where Achilles pursues Hector.
Arist. Poet. chap. 25, 26.
Note XII.
VERSE 197. Where two fam’d Fountains. ]
Strabo blames Homer for saying that one of the Sources of Scamander was a warm Fountain; whereas (says he) there is but one Spring, and that cold, neither is this in the Place where Homer fixes it, but in the Mountain. It is observ’d by Eustathius that tho’ this was not true in Strabo’s Days, yet it might in Homer’s, greater Changes having happen’d in less time than that which pass’d between those two Authors. Sandys, who was both a Geographer and Critick of great Accuracy, as well as a Traveller of great Veracity, affirms as an Eye witness, that there are yet some Hot-water Springs in that part of the Country, opposite to Tenedos. I cannot but think that Gentleman must have been particularly diligent and curious in his Enquiries into the Remains of a Place so celebrated in Poetry; as he was not only perhaps the most learned, but one of the best Poets of his Time: I am glad of this occasion to do his Memory so much Justice as to say, the English Versification owes much of its Improvement to his Translations, and especially that admirable one of Job. What chiefly pleases me in this place, is to see the exact Landskip of old Troy, we have a clear Idea of the Town itself, and of the Roads and Countrey about it; the River, the Fig-trees, and every part is set before our Eyes.
Note XIII.
VERSE 219. The gazing Gods lean forward from the Skies. ]
We have here an Instance of the great Judgment of Homer. The Death of Hector being the chief Action of the Poem; he assembles the Gods, and calls a Council in Heaven concerning it: It is for the same Reason that he represents Jupiter with the greatest Solemnity weighing in his Scales the Fates of the two Heroes: I have before observ’d at large upon the last Circumstance in a preceding Note, so that there is no occasion to repeat it.
I wonder that none of the Commentators have taken notice of this Beauty; in my Opinion it is a very necessary Observation, and shews the Art and Judgment of the Poet, in that he has made the greatest and finishing Action of the Poem of such Importance that it engages the Gods in Debates.
Note XIV.
VERSE 226. From Ida ’s Summits— ]
It was the Custom of the Pagans to sacrifice to the Gods upon the Hills and Mountains, in Scripture Language upon the high places, for they were persuaded that the Gods in a particular manner inhabited such Eminences: Wherefore God order’d his People to destroy all those high places, which the Nations had prophan’d by their Idolatry. You shall utterly destroy all the Places wherein the Nations which you shall possess served their Gods, upon the high Mountains, and upon the Hills, and under every green Tree. Deut. xii. 2. ’Tis for this Reason that so many Kings are reproach’d in Scripture for not taking away the high Places.
Note XV.
VERSE 249. Thus Step by Step, &c.]
There is some Difficulty in this Passage, and it seems strange that Achilles could not overtake Hector when he is allow’d to excel so much in Swiftness, especially when the Poet describes him as running in a narrower Circle than Hector: Eustathius gives us many Solutions from the Ancients: Homer has already told us that they run for the Life of Hector; and consequently Hector would exert his utmost Speed, whereas Achilles might only endeavour to keep him from entring the City: Besides, Achilles could not directly pursue him, because he frequently made Efforts to shelter himself under the Wall, and he being oblig’d to turn him from it, he might be forced to take more Steps than Hector; but the Poet to take away all Grounds of an Objection, tells us afterwards, that Apollo gave him a supernatural Swiftness.
Note XVI.
VERSE 251. As Men in Slumbers. ]
This beautiful Comparison has been condemn’d by some of the Ancients, even so far as to judge it unworthy of having a Place in the Iliad: They say the Diction is mean, and the Similitude itself absurd, because it compares the Swiftness of the Heroes to Men asleep, who are in a state of Rest and Inactivity; but surely there cannot be a more groundless Criticism: The Poet is so far from drawing his Comparison from the Repose of Men asleep, that he alludes only to their Dreams: It is a Race in fancy that he describes; and surely the Imagination is nimble enough to illustrate the greatest Degree of Swiftness: Besides the Verses themselves run with the utmost Rapidity, and imitate the Swiftness they describe. Eustathius. What sufficiently proves these Verses to be genuine, is, that Virgil has imitated them, Aen. 12.
Ac veluti in somnis—
Note XVII.
VERSE 270. Sign’d to the Troops, &c.]
The Difference which Homer here makes between Hector and Achilles deserves to be taken notice of; Hector in running away towards the Walls, to the end that the Trojans who are upon them may overwhelm Achilles with their Darts; and Achilles in turning Hector towards the Plain, makes a Sign to his Troops not to attack him. This shews the great Courage of Achilles; and yet this Action which appears so generous has been very much condemn’d by the Ancients; Plutarch in the Life of Pompey gives us to understand, that it was look’d upon as the Action of a Fool too greedy of Glory: Indeed this is not a single Combat of Achilles against Hector, (for in that case Achilles would have done very ill not to hinder his Troops from assaulting him) this was a Rencounter in a Battel, and so Achilles might, and ought to take all Advantage to rid himself, the readiest and the surest way, of an Enemy whose Death would procure an entire Victory to his Party. Wherefore does he leave this Victory to Chance? Why expose himself to the Hazard of losing it? Why does he prefer his private Glory to the publick Weal, and the Safety of all the Greeks, which he puts to the venture by delaying to conquer, and endangering his own Person? I grant it is a Fault, but it must be own’d to be the Fault of a Hero. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 278. Then Phoebus left him— ]
This is a very beautiful and poetical manner of describing a plain Circumstance: The Hour of Hector’s Death was now come, and the Poet expresses it by saying that Apollo, or Destiny, forsakes him: That is, the Fates no longer protect him. Eustathius.
Note XIX.
VERSE id.—Fierce Minerva flies to stern Pelides, &c. ]
The Poet may seem to diminish the Glory of Achilles, by ascribing the Victory over Hector to the Assistance of Pallas; whereas in truth he fell by the Hand only of Achilles: But Poetry loves to raise every thing into a Wonder; it steps out of the common Road of Narration, and aims to surprize; and the Poet would farther insinuate that it is a greater Glory to Achilles to be belov’d by the Gods, than to be only excellent in Valour: For many Men have Valour, but few the Favour of Heaven. Eustathius.
Note XX.
VERSE 291. Obey’d and rested. ]
The whole Passage where Pallas deceives Hector is evidently an Allegory: Achilles perceiving that he cannot overtake Hector, pretends to be quite spent and wearied in the Pursuit; the Stratagem takes effect, and recalls his Enemy: This the Poet expresses by saying that Pallas, or Wisdom, came to assist Achilles. Hector observing his Enemy stay to rest concludes that he is quite fatigued, and immediately takes Courage and advances upon him; he thinks he has him at an Advantage, but at last finds himself deceiv’d: Thus making a wrong Judgment he is betray’d into his Death; so that his own false Judgment is the treacherous Pallas that deceives him. Eustathius.
Note XXI.
VERSE 317. The Speeches of Hector, and of Achilles.]
There is an Opposition between these Speeches excellently adapted to the Characters of both the Heroes: That of Hector is full of Courage, but mixt with Humanity: That of Achilles, of Resentment and Arrogance: We see the great Hector disposing of his own Remains, and that Thirst of Glory which has made him live with Honour, now bids him provide, as Eustathius observes, that what once was Hector may not de dishonour’d: Thus we see a sedate, calm courage, with a Contempt of Death, in the Speeches of Hector. But in that of Achilles there is a Fiertè, and an insolent Air of Superiority; his Magnanimity makes him scorn to steal a Victory, he bids him prepare to defend himself with all his Forces, and that Valour and Resentment which made him desirous that he might revenge himself upon Hector with his own Hand, and forbade the Greeks to interpose, now directs him not to take any Advantage over a brave Enemy. I think both their Characters are admirably sustain’d, and tho’ Achilles be drawn with a great Violence of Features, yet the Picture is undoubtedly like him; and it had been the utmost Absurdity to have soften’d one Line upon this Occasion, when the Soul of Achilles was all on fire to revenge the Death of his Friend Patroclus. I must desire the Reader to carry this Observation in his Memory, and particularly in that place, where Achilles says he could eat the very Flesh of Hector; (tho’ I have a little soften’d it in the Translation) V. 438.
Note XXII.
VERSE 391. So Jove ’s bold Bird, &c.]
The Poet takes up some time in describing the two great Heroes before they close in Fight: The Verses are pompous and magnificent, and he illustrates his Description with two beautiful Similes: He makes a double use of this Conduct; he not only raises our Imagination to attend to so momentous an Action, but by lengthening his Narration he keeps the Mind in a pleasing Suspense, and divides it between Hopes and Fears for the Fate of Hector or Achilles.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 409. Thro’ that penetrable Part furious he drove, &c.]
It was necessary that the Poet shou’d be very particular in this Point, because the Arms that Hector wore, were the Arms of Achilles, taken from Patroclus; and consequently, as they were the Work of Vulcan, they would preserve Hector from the Possibility of a Wound: The Poet therefore to give an Air of Probability to his Story, tells us that they were Patroclus his Arms, and as they were not made for Hector, they might not exactly fit his Body: So that it is not improbable but there might be some place about the Neck of Hector so open as to admit the Spear of Achilles. Eustathius.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 438. Could I my self the bloody Banquet join! ]
I have before hinted that there is something very fierce and violent in this Passage; but I fancy that what I there observ’d will justify Homer in his Relation, tho’ not Achilles in his savage Sentiments: Yet the Poet softens the Expression by saying that Achilles only wishes that his Heart would permit him to devour him: This is much more tolerable than a Passage in the Thebais of Statius, where Tydeus in the very Pangs of Death is represented as knawing the Head of his Enemy.
Note XXV.
VERSE 440. Should Troy, to bribe me, &c.]
Such Resolutions as Achilles here makes, are very natural to Men in Anger; he tells Hector that no Motives shall ever prevail with him to suffer his Body to be ransom’d; yet when Time had cool’d his Heat, and he had somewhat satisfy’d his Revenge by insulting his Remains, he restores them to Priam, this perfectly agrees with his Conduct in the ninth Book, where at first he gives a rough Denial, and afterwards softens into an easier Temper. And this is very agreeable to the Nature of Achilles; his Anger abates very slowly; it is stubborn, yet still it remits: Had the Poet drawn him as never to be pacify’d, he had outrag’d Nature, and not represented his Hero as a Man, but as a Monster. Eustathius.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 450. A Day will come— ]
Hector prophesies at his Death that Achilles shall fall by the Hand of Paris. This confirms an Observation made in a former Note, that the Words of dying Men were look’d upon as Prophecies; but whether such Conjectures are true or false, it appears from hence, that such Opinions have prevail’d in the World above three thousand Years.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 468. The great Dead deface with Wounds, &c. ]
Eustathius tells us that Homer introduces the Soldiers wounding the dead Body of Hector, in order to mitigate the Cruelties which Achilles exercises upon his Body: For if every common Soldier takes a Pride in giving him a Wound, what Insults may we not expect from the inexorable, inflam’d Achilles? But I must confess myself unable to vindicate the Poet in giving us such an Idea of his Countreymen. I think the former Courage of their Enemy should have been so far from moving them to Revenge, that it should have recommended him to their Esteem: What Achilles afterwards acts is suitable to his Character, and consequently the Poet is justify’d; but surely all the Greeks were not of his Temper? Patroclus was not so dear to them all, as he was to Achilles. ’Tis true the Poet represents Achilles, (as Eustathius observes) enumerating the many Ills they had suffer’d from Hector; and he seems to endeavour to infect the whole Army with his Resentment. Had Hector been living, they had been acted by a generous Indignation against him: But these Men seem as if they only dared approach him dead; in short, what they say over his Body is a mean Insult, and the Stabs they give it are cowardly and barbarous.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 474. The Speech of Achilles.]
We have a very fine Observation of Eustathius on this Place, that the Judgment and Address of Homer here is extreamly worthy of Remark: He knew, and had often said, that the Gods and Fate had not granted Achilles the Glory of taking Troy: There was then no reason to make him march against the Town after the Death of Hector, since all his Efforts must have been ineffectual. What has the Poet done in this Conjuncture? It was but reasonable that the first Thought of Achilles should be to march directly to Troy, and to profit himself of the general Consternation into which the Death of Hector had thrown the Trojans. We here see he knows the Duty, and does not want the Ability, of a great General; but after this on a sudden he changes his Design, and derives a plausible Pretence from the Impatience he has to pay the last Devoirs to his Friend. The Manners of Achilles, and what he has already done for Patroclus, make this very natural. At the same time, this turning off to the tender and pathetick has a fine Effect; the Reader in the very Fury of the Hero’s Vengeance, perceives, that Achilles is still a Man, and capable of softer Passions.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 494. "Hector is dead, and Ilion is no more. ]
I have follow’d the Opinion of Eustathius, who thought that what Achilles says here was the Chorus or Burden of a Song of Triumph, in which his Troops bear a part with him, as he returns from this glorious Combate. Dacier observes that this is very correspondent to the Manners of those Times; and instances in that Passage of the Book of Kings, when David returns from the Conquest of Goliah: The Women there go out to meet him from all the Cities of Israel, and sing a triumphal Song, the Chorus whereof is, Saul has kill’d his Thousands, and David his ten Thousands.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 496.] Unworthy of himself, and of the Dead. ]
This Inhumanity of Achilles in dragging the dead Body of Hector, has been severely (and I think indeed not without some Justice) censur’d by several both Ancients and Moderns. Plato in his third Book de Republica, speaks of it with Detestation: But methinks it is a great Injustice to Homer to reflect upon the Morals of the Author himself, for things which he only paints as the Manners of a vicious Hero.
It may justly be observ’d in general of all Plato’s Objections against Homer, that they are still in a View to Morality, constantly blaming him for representing ill and immoral Things as the Opinions or Actions of his Persons. To every one of these one general Answer will serve, which is, that Homer as often describes ill things, in order to make us avoid them, as good, to induce us to follow them (which is the Case with all Writers whatever.) But what is extremely remarkable, and evidently shews the Injustice of Plato’s Censure is, that many of those very Actions for which he blames him are expressly characterized and marked by Homer himself as evil and detestable, by previous Expressions or Cautions. Thus in the present Place, before he describes this Barbarity of Achilles, he tells us it was a most unworthy Action.
— [Greek]
When Achilles sacrifices the twelve young Trojans in l. 23. he repeats the same Words. When Pandarus broke the Truce in l. 4. he told us it was a mad, unjust Deed,
— [Greek]
And so of the rest.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 506. The Face divine, and long-descending Hair. ]
It is impossible to read the Actions of great Men without having our Curiosity rais’d to know the least Circumstance that relates to them: Homer to satisfy it, has taken care in the Process of his Poem to give us the Shape of his Heroes, and the very Colour of their Hair; thus he has told us that Achilles’s Locks were yellow, and here the Epithet [Greek]shews us that those of Hector were of a darker Colour: As to his Person, he told us a little above that it was so handsome that all the Greeks were surpriz’d to see it. Plutarch recites a remarkable Story of the Beauty of Hector: It was reported in Lacedaemon, that a handsome Youth who very much resembled Hector, was arriv’d there; immediately the whole City run in such Numbers to behold him, that he was trampled to Death by the Crowd. Eustathius.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 543. Sinks my sad Soul with Sorrow to the Grave. ]
It is in the Greek
[Greek]
It is needless to observe to the Reader with what a beautiful Pathos the wretched Father laments his Son Hector: It is impossible not to join with Priam in his Sorrows. But what I would chiefly point out to my Reader, is the Beauty of this Line, which is particularly tender, and almost Word for Word the same with that of the Patriarch Jacob; who upon a like Occasion breaks out into the same Complaint, and tells his Children, that if they deprive him of his Son Benjamin, they will bring down his grey Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 563, &c. ] The Grief of Andromache, which is painted in the following Part, is far beyond all the Praises that can be given it; but I must take notice of one Particular which shews the great Art of the Poet. In order to make the Wife of Hector appear yet more afflicted than his Parents, he has taken care to encrease her Affliction by Surprize: It is finely prepar’d by the Circumstances of her being retir’d to her innermost Apartment, of her Employment in weaving a Robe for her Husband (as may be conjectur’d from what she says afterward, ℣. 657.) and of her Maids preparing the Bath for his Return: All which (as the Criticks have observ’d) augment the Surprize, and render this Reverse of Fortune much more dreadful and afflicting.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 600. Her Hair’s fair Ornaments. ]
Eustathius remarks, that in speaking of Andromache and Hecuba, Homer expatiates upon the Ornaments of Dress in Andromache, because she was a beautiful young Princess; but is very concise about that of Hecuba, because she was old, and wore a Dress rather suitable to her Age and Gravity, than to her State, Birth, and Condition. I cannot pass over a Matter of such Importance as a young Lady’s Dress, without endeavouring to explain what sort of Heads were worn above three thousand Years ago.
It is difficult to describe particularly every Ornament mention’d by the Poet, but I shall lay before my female Readers the Bishop’s Explanation. The [Greek]was used, [Greek], that is, to tye backwards the Hair that grew on the fore-part of the Head: The [Greek]was a Veil of Network that cover’d the Hair when it was so ty’d: [Greek]was an Ornament us’d [Greek], to tye backwards the Hair that grew on the Temples; and the [Greek]was a Fillet, perhaps embroider’d with Gold, (from the Expression of [Greek]) that bound the whole, and compleated the Dress.
The Ladies cannot but be pleas’d to see so much Learning and Greek upon this important Subject.
Homer is in nothing more excellent than in that Distinction of Characters which he maintains thro’ his whole Poem: What Andromache here says, can be spoken properly by none but Andromache: There is nothing general in her Sorrows, nothing that can be transfer’d to another Character: The Mother laments the Son, and the Wife weeps over the Husband.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 628. The Day that to the Shades, &c.]
The following Verses, which so finely describe the Condition of an Orphan, have been rejected by some ancient Criticks: It is a Proof there were always Criticks of no manner of Taste; it being impossible any where to meet with a more exquisite Passage. I will venture to say, there are not in all Homer any Lines more worthy of him: The Beauty of this tender and Compassionate Image is such, that it even makes amends for the many cruel ones, with which the Iliad is too much stained. These Censurers imagined this Description to be of too abject and mean a Nature for one of the Quality of Astyanax; but had they consider’d (says Eustathius ) that these are the Words of a fond Mother who fear’d every thing for her Son, that Women are by Nature timorous and think all Misfortunes will happen, because there is a Possibility that they may; that Andromache is in the very height of her Sorrows, in the Instant she is speaking; I fancy they would have alter’d their Opinion.
It is undoubtedly an Aggravation to our Misfortunes when they sink us in a Moment from the highest flow of Prosperity to the lowest Adversity: The Poet judiciously makes use of this Circumstance, the more to excite our Pity, and introduces the Mother with the utmost Tenderness, lamenting this Reverse of Fortune in her Son; chang’d all at once into a Slave, a Beggar, an Orphan! Have we not Examples in our own Times of such unhappy Princes, whose Condition renders this of Astyanax but too probable?
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 647. On Dainties fed. ]
It is in the Greek,
"Who upon his Father’s Knees us’d to eat Marrow and the Fat of Sheep.
This would seem gross if it were literally translated, but it is a figurative Expression; and in the Style of the Orientals, Marrow and Fatness are taken for whatever is best, tenderest, and most delicious. Thus in Job xxi. 24. Viscera ejus plena sunt adipe & medullis ossa ejus •… •… rigantur. And xxxvi. 16. Requies autem mensae tuae erit plena pinguedine. In Jer. xxxi. 14. God says, that he will satiate the Soul of the Priests with Fatness. Inebriabo animam Sacerdotum pinguedine. Dacier.
Note XL.
VERSE 657. The martial Scarf and Robe of Triumph wove. ]
This Idea very naturally offers itself to a Woman, who represents to herself the Body of her Husband dash’d to pieces, and all his Limbs dragg’d upon the Ground uncover’d; and nothing is more proper to excite Pity. ’Tis well known that it was anciently the Custom among Princesses and great Ladies to have large Quantities of Stuffs and Moveables. This Provision was more necessary in those Times than now, because of the great Consumption made of them on those Occasions of Mourning.
I am of Opinion that Homer had a farther View in expatiating thus largely upon the Death of Hector. Every Word that Hecuba, Priam, and Andromache speaks, shews us the Importance of Hector: Every Word adds a Weight to the concluding Action of his Poem, and at the same time represents the sad Effects of the Anger of Achilles, which is the Subject of it.
Book XXIII THE TWENTY-THIRD BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
ACHILLES and the Myrmidons do Honours to the Body of Patroclus. After the funeral Feast he retires to the Sea-Shore, where falling asleep, the Ghost of his Friend appears to him, and demands the Rites of Burial; the next Morning the Soldiers are sent with Mules and Waggons to fetch Wood for the Pyre. The funeral Procession, and the offering of their Hair to the Dead. Achilles sacrifices several Animals, and lastly, twelve Trojan Captives at the Pile, then sets fire to it. He pays Libations to the Winds, which (at the instance of Iris ) rise, and raise the Flames. When the Pile has burn’d all Night, they gather the Bones, place ’em in an Urn of Gold, and raise the Tomb. Achilles institutes the funeral Games: The Chariot Race, the Fight of the Caestus, the Wrestling, the Foot-Race, the single Combate, the Discus, the shooting with Arrows, the darting the Javelin: The various Descriptions of which, and the various Success of the several Antagonists, make the greatest part of the Book. In this Book ends the thirtieth Day: The Night following, the Ghost of Patroclus appears to Achilles: The one and thirtieth Day is employ’d in felling the Timber for the Pile; the two and thirtieth in burning it; and the three and thirtieth in the Games. The Scene is generally on the Sea-Shore.
Index to The Argument
- [1-24] Myrmidon lamentation at Patroclus’ body
- [25-36] Hector’s corpse displayed and Achilles’ vow
- [37-68] Funeral feast; Achilles’ abstinence oath
- [70-118] Patroclus’ ghost visits in a dream
- [119-157] Dawn mission: woodcutters sent to Ida
- [158-189] Procession to the pyre and hair offering
- [190-225] Pyre construction and bloody sacrifices
- [226-270] Wind invoked; gods guard Hector
- [271-306] Night vigil as the pyre burns
- [307-324] Bone collection and tomb mound
- [325-340] Announcement of the funeral games
- [341-417] Chariot race: entrants and strategy
- [418-480] Chariot race: contest and divine meddling
- [481-578] Crash, cunning overtake, and prize dispute
- [579-640] Resolution and additional gifts
- [641-752] Special honour for Nestor
- [753-813] Boxing bout: Epeius victorious
- [814-862] Wrestling: Ajax and Odysseus draw
- [863-940] Footrace: Odysseus wins after Ajax slips
- [941-972] Armed duel: Diomedes granted victory
- [973-1005] Discus throw: Polypoetes dominates
- [1006-1043] Archery contest: Meriones hits the dove
- [1044-1063] Javelin contest: Agamemnon acclaimed
THUS humbled in the Dust, the pensive Train
Thro’ the sad City mourn’d her Hero slain.
The Body soil’d with Dust, and black with Gore,
Lyes on broad Hellespont’s resounding Shore:
The Grecians seek their Ships, and clear the Strand,
All, but the martial Myrmidonian Band:
These yet assembled great Achilles holds,
And the stern purpose of his Mind unfolds.
Not yet (my brave Companions of the War)
Release your smoaking Coursers from the Car;
But, with his Chariot each in order led,
Perform due Honours to Patroclus dead.
E’er yet from Rest or Food we seek Relief,
Some Rites remain, to glut our Rage of Grief.
The Troops obey’d; and thrice in order led
( Achilles first) their Coursers round the Dead;
And thrice their Sorrows and Laments renew;
Tears drop the Sands, and Tears their Arms bedew.
For such a Warrior Thetis aids their Woe,
Melts their strong Hearts, and bids their Eyes to flow.
But chief, Pelides: thick-succeeding Sighs
Burst from his Heart, and Torrents from his Eyes:
His slaught’ring Hands, yet red with Blood, he laid
On his dead Friend’s cold Breast, and thus he said.
All hail Patroclus! let thy honour’d Ghost
Hear, and rejoice on Pluto’s dreary Coast;
Behold! Achilles’ Promise is compleat;
The bloody Hector stretch’d before thy Feet.
Lo! to the Dogs his Carcass I resign;
And twelve sad Victims of the Trojan Line
Sacred to Vengeance, instant shall expire,
Their Lives effus’d around thy fun’ral Pyre.
Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view)
Before the Bier the bleeding Hector threw,
Prone on the Dust. The Myrmidons around
Unbrac’d their Armour, and the Steeds unbound.
All to Achilles’ sable Ship repair,
Frequent and full, the genial Feast to share.
Now from the well-fed Swine black Smokes aspire,
The bristly Victims hissing o’er the Fire;
The huge Ox bellowing falls; with feebler cries
Expires the Goat; the Sheep in Silence dies:
Around the Hero’s prostrate Body flow’d
In one promiscuous Stream, the reeking Blood.
And now a Band of Argive Monarchs brings
The glorious Victor to the King of Kings.
From his dead Friend the pensive Warrior went,
With Steps unwilling, to the regal Tent.
Th’ attending Heralds, as by Office bound,
With kindled Flames the Tripod-Vase surround;
50To cleanse his conqu’ring Hands from hostile Gore,
They urg’d in vain; the Chief refus’d, and swore.
No Drop shall touch me, by almighty Jove!
The first and greatest of the Gods above!
Till on the Pyre I place thee; till I rear
The grassy Mound, and clip thy sacred Hair.
Some Ease at least those pious Rites may give,
And sooth my Sorrows, while I bear to live.
Howe’er, reluctant as I am, I stay,
And share your Feast; but, with the Dawn of Day,
(O King of Men!) it claims thy royal Care,
That Greece the Warrior’s fun’ral Pile prepare,
And bid the Forests fall: (Such Rites are paid
To Heroes slumb’ring in Eternal Shade)
Then, when his earthly Part shall mount in Fire,
Let the leagu’d Squadrons to their Posts retire.
He spoke; they hear him, and the Word obey;
The Rage of Hunger and of Thirst allay,
Then ease in Sleep the Labours of the Day.
But great Pelides, stretch’d along the Shore
Where dash’d on Rocks the broken Billows roar,
Lies inly groaning; while on either Hand
The martial Myrmidons confus’dly stand:
Along the Grass his languid Members fall,
Tir’d with his Chase around the Trojan Wall;
Hush’d by the Murmurs of the rolling Deep
At length he sinks in the soft Arms of Sleep.
When lo! the Shade before his closing Eyes
Of sad Patroclus rose, or seem’d to rise;
In the same Robe the Living wore, he came,
In Stature, Voice, and pleasing Look, the same.
The Form familiar hover’d o’er his Head,
And sleeps Achilles, (thus the Phantom said)
Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead?
Living, I seem’d his dearest, tend’rest Care,
But now forgot, I wander in the Air:
Let my pale Corse the Rites of Burial know,
And give me Entrance in the Realms below:
Till then, the Spirit finds no resting place,
But here and there th’ unbody’d Spectres chace
The vagrant Dead around the dark Abode,
Forbid to cross th’ irremeable Flood.
Now give thy Hand; for to the farther Shore
When once we pass, the Soul returns no more.
When once the last Funereal Flames ascend,
No more shall meet, Achilles and his Friend,
No more our Thoughts to those we lov’d make known,
Or quit the dearest, to converse alone.
Me Fate has sever’d from the Sons of Earth,
The Fate fore-doom’d that waited from my Birth:
100Thee too it waits; before the Trojan Wall
Ev’n great and god-like Thou art doom’d to fall.
Hear then; and as in Fate and Love we joyn,
Ah suffer that my Bones may rest with thine!
Together have we liv’d, together bred,
One House receiv’d us, and one Table fed;
That golden Urn thy Goddess Mother gave
May mix our Ashes in one common Grave.
And is it thou (he answers) to my Sight
Once more return’st thou from the Realms of Night?
Oh more than Brother! Think each Office paid,
Whate’er can rest a discontented Shade;
But grant one last Embrace, unhappy Boy!
Afford at least that melancholy joy.
He said, and with his longing Arms essay’d
In vain to grasp the visionary Shade;
Like a thin Smoke he sees the Spirit fly,
And hears a feeble, lamentable Cry.
Confus’d he wakes; Amazement breaks the Bands
Of golden Sleep, and starting from the Sands,
Pensive he muses with uplifted Hands.
’Tis true, ’tis certain; Man, tho’ dead, retains
Part of himself; th’immortal Mind remains:
The Form subsists, without the Body’s Aid,
Aerial Semblance, and an empty Shade!
This night my Friend, so late in Battel lost,
Stood at my side, a pensive, plaintive Ghost;
Ev’n now familiar, as in Life, he came,
Alas how diff’rent! yet how like the same!
Thus while he spoke, each Eye grew big with Tears:
And now the rosy-finger’d Morn appears,
Shews every mournful Face with Tears o’erspread,
And glares on the pale Visage of the Dead.
But Agamemnon, as the Rites demand,
With Mules and Waggons sends a chosen Band;
To load the Timber and the Pile to rear,
A Charge consign’d to Merion’s faithful Care.
With proper Instruments they take the Road,
Axes to cut, and Ropes to sling the Load.
First march the heavy Mules, securely slow,
O’er Hills, o’er Dales, o’er Crags, o’er Rocks, they go:
Jumping high o’er the Shrubs of the rough Ground,
Rattle the clatt’ring Cars, and the shockt Axles bound.
But when arriv’d at Ida’s spreading Woods,
(Fair Ida, water’d with descending Floods)
Loud sounds the Axe, redoubling Strokes on Strokes;
On all sides round the Forest hurles her Oaks
Headlong. Deep-echoing groan the Thickets brown;
Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
The Wood the Grecians cleave, prepar’d to burn;
150And the slow Mules the same rough Road return.
The sturdy Woodmen equal Burthens bore
(Such charge was giv’n ’em) to the sandy Shore;
There on the Spot which great Achilles show’d,
They eas’d their Shoulders, and dispos’d the Load;
Circling around the Place, where Times to come
Shall view Patroclus’ and Achilles’ Tomb.
The Hero bids his martial Troops appear
High on their Cars, in all the Pomp of War;
Each in refulgent Arms his Limbs attires,
All mount their Chariots, Combatants and Squires.
The Chariots first proceed, a shining Train;
Then Clouds of Foot that smoak along the Plain;
Next these a melancholy Band appear,
Amidst, lay dead Patroclus on the Bier:
O’er all the Corse their scatter’d Locks they throw.
Achilles next, opprest with mighty Woe,
Supporting with his Hands the Hero’s Head,
Bends o’er th’ extended Body of the Dead.
The Body decent, on th’ appointed Ground
They place, and heap the Sylvan Pile around.
But great Achilles stands apart in Pray’r,
And from his Head divides the yellow Hair;
The curling Locks which from his Youth he vow’d,
And sacred grew to Sperchius honour’d Flood:
Then sighing, to the Deep his Looks he cast,
And roll’d his Eyes around the wat’ry Waste.
Sperchius! whose Waves in mazy Errors lost
Delightful roll along my native Coast!
To whom we vainly vow’d, at our return,
These Locks to fall, and Hecatombs to burn;
Full fifty Rams to bleed in Sacrifice,
Where to the Day thy silver Fountains rise,
And where in Shade of consecrated Bow’rs
Thy Altars stand, perfum’d with native Flow’rs!
So vow’d my Father, but he vow’d in vain;
No more Achilles sees his native Plain;
In that vain Hope these Hairs no longer grow,
Patroclus bears them to the Shades below.
Thus o’er Patroclus while the Hero pray’d,
On his cold Hand the sacred Lock he laid.
Once more afresh the Grecian Sorrows flow:
And now the Sun had set upon their Woe;
But to the King of Men thus spoke the Chief.
Enough, Atrides! give the Troops Relief:
Permit the mourning Legions to retire,
And let the Chiefs alone attend the Pyre;
The pious Care be ours, the Dead to burn—
He said: The People to their Ships return:
While those deputed to inter the Slain
200Heap with a rising Pyramid the Plain.
A hundred Foot in length, a hundred wide,
The growing Structure spreads on ev’ry Side;
High on the Top the manly Corse they lay,
And well-fed Sheep, and sable Oxen slay:
Achilles cover’d with their Fat the Dead,
And the pil’d Victims round the Body spread.
Then Jars of Honey, and of fragrant Oil
Suspends around, low-bending o’er the Pile.
Four sprightly Coursers, with a deadly Groan
Pour forth their Lives, and on the Pyre are thrown.
Of nine large Dogs, domestick at his Board,
Fall two, selected to attend their Lord.
Then last of all, and horrible to tell,
Sad Sacrifice! twelve Trojan Captives fell.
On these the Rage of Fire victorious preys,
Involves, and joins them in one common Blaze.
Smear’d with the bloody Rites, he stands on high,
And calls the Spirit with a dreadful Cry.
All hail, Patroclus! let thy vengeful Ghost
Hear, and exult on Pluto’s dreary Coast.
Behold, Achilles’ Promise fully paid,
Twelve Trojan Heroes offer’d to thy Shade;
But heavier Fates on Hector’s Corse attend,
Sav’d from the Flames, for hungry Dogs to rend.
So spake he, threat’ning: But the Gods made vain
His Threat, and guard inviolate the Slain:
Celestial Venus hover’d o’er his Head,
And roseate Unguents, heav’nly Fragrance! shed:
She watch’d him all the Night, and all the Day,
And drove the Bloodhounds from their destin’d Prey.
Nor sacred Phoebus less employ’d his Care;
He pour’d around a Veil of gather’d Air,
And kept the Nerves undry’d, the Flesh entire,
Against the Solar Beam and Sirian Fire.
Nor yet the Pile where dead Patroclus lies,
Smokes, nor as yet the sullen Flames arise;
But fast beside Achilles stood in Pray’r,
Invok’d the Gods whose Spirit moves the Air,
And Victims promis’d, and Libations cast,
To gentle Zephyr and the Boreal Blast:
He call’d th’ Aerial Pow’rs, along the Skies
To breathe, and whisper to the Fires to rise.
The winged Iris heard the Hero’s Call,
And instant hasten’d to their airy Hall,
Where, in old Zephyr’s open Courts on high,
Sate all the blustring Brethren of the Sky.
She shone amidst them, on her painted Bow;
The rocky Pavement glitter’d with the Show.
All from the Banquet rise, and each invites
250The Various Goddess to partake the Rites.
Not so, (the Dame reply’d) I haste to go
To sacred Ocean, and the Floods below:
Ev’n now our solemn Hecatombs attend,
And Heav’n is feasting on the World’s green End,
With righteous Aethiops (uncorrupted Train!)
Far on th’extreamest Limits of the Main.
But Peleus’ Son intreats, with Sacrifice,
The Western Spirit, and the North to rise;
Let on Patroclus’ Pile your Blast be driv’n,
And bear the blazing Honours high to Heav’n.
Swift as the Word, she vanish’d from their View;
Swift as the Word, the Winds tumultuous flew;
Forth burst the stormy Band with thundring Roar,
And Heaps on Heaps the Clouds are tost before.
To the wide Main then stooping from the Skies,
The heaving Deeps in wat’ry Mountains rise:
Troy feels the Blast along her shaking Walls,
Till on the Pyle the gather’d Tempest falls.
The Structure crackles in the roaring Fires,
And all the Night the plenteous Flame aspires.
All Night, Achilles hails Patroclus Soul,
With large Libation from the golden Bowl.
As a poor Father helpless and undone,
Mourns o’er the Ashes of an only Son,
Takes a sad Pleasure the last Bones to burn,
And pour in Tears, e’er yet they close the Urn.
So stay’d Achilles, circling round the Shore,
So watch’d the Flames, till now they flam’d no more.
’Twas when, emerging thro’ the Shades of Night,
The Morning Planet told th’approach of Light;
And fast behind, Aurora’s warmer Ray
O’er the broad Ocean pour’d the golden Day:
Then sunk the Blaze, the Pyle no longer burn’d,
And to their Caves the whistling Winds return’d:
Across the Thracian Seas their Course they bore;
The ruffled Seas beneath their Passage roar.
Then parting from the Pyle he ceas’d to weep,
And sunk to Quiet in th’ Embrace of Sleep,
Exhausted with his Grief: Meanwhile the Crowd
Of thronging Grecians round Achilles stood;
The Tumult wak’d him: From his Eyes he shook
Unwilling Slumber, and the Chiefs bespoke.
Ye Kings and Princes of th’ Achaian Name!
First let us quench the yet-remaining Flame
With sable Wine; then, (as the Rites direct,)
The Hero’s Bones with careful view select:
(Apart, and easy to be known they lye,
Amidst the Heap, and obvious to the Eye;
The rest around the Margins will be seen,
300Promiscuous, Steeds, and immolated Men)
These wrapt in double Cauls of Fat, prepare;
And in the golden Vase dispose with Care;
There let them rest, with decent Honour laid,
Till I shall follow to th’Infernal Shade.
Meantime erect the Tomb with pious Hands,
A common Structure on the humble Sands;
Hereafter Greece some nobler Work may raise,
And late Posterity record our Praise.
The Greeks obey; where yet the Embers glow,
Wide o’er the Pyle the sable Wine they throw,
And deep subsides the ashy Heap below.
Next the white Bones his sad Companions place
With Tears collected, in the golden Vase.
The sacred Relicks to the Tent they bore;
The Urn a Veil of Linen cover’d o’er.
That done, they bid the Sepulchre aspire,
And cast the deep Foundations round the Pyre;
High in the midst they heap the swelling Bed
Of rising Earth, Memorial of the Dead.
The swarming Populace the Chief detains,
And leads amidst a wide Extent of Plains;
There plac’d ’em round: Then from the Ships proceeds
A Train of Oxen, Mules, and stately Steeds,
Vases and Tripods, for the Fun’ral Games,
Resplendent Brass, and more resplendent Dames.
First stood the Prizes to reward the Force
Of rapid Racers in the dusty Course.
A Woman for the first, in Beauty’s Bloom,
Skill’d in the Needle, and the lab’ring Loom;
And a large Vase, where two bright Handles rise,
Of twenty Measures its capacious Size.
The second Victor claims a Mare unbroke,
Big with a Mule, unknowing of the Yoke:
The third, a Charger yet untouch’d by Flame;
Four ample Measures held the shining Frame:
Two golden Talents for the fourth were plac’d;
An ample double Bowl contents the last.
These in fair Order rang’d upon the Plain,
The Hero, rising, thus addrest the Train.
Behold the Prizes, valiant Greeks! decreed
To the brave Rulers of the racing Steed;
Prizes which none beside our self could gain,
Should our immortal Coursers take the Plain;
(A Race unrival’d, which from Ocean’s God
Peleus receiv’d, and on his Son bestow’d.)
But this no time our Vigour to display,
Nor suit, with them, the Games of this sad Day:
Lost is Patroclus now, that wont to deck
Their flowing Manes, and sleek their glossy Neck.
350Sad, as they shar’d in human Grief, they stand,
And trail those graceful Honours on the Sand!
Let others for the noble Task prepare,
Who trust the Courser, and the flying Car.
Fir’d at his Word, the Rival Racers rise;
But far the first, Eumelus hopes the Prize,
Fam’d thro’ Pieria for the fleetest Breed,
And skill’d to manage the high-bounding Steed.
With equal Ardor bold Tydides swell’d
The Steeds of Tros beneath his Yoke compell’d,
(Which late obey’d the Dardan Chief’s Command,
When scarce a God redeem’d him from his Hand)
Then Menelaus his Podargus brings,
And the fam’d Courser of the King of Kings:
Whom rich Echepolus, (more rich than brave)
To ’scape the Wars, to Agamemnon gave,
( Aethe her Name) at home to end his Days,
Base Wealth preferring to eternal Praise.
Next him Antilochus demands the Course,
With beating Heart, and chears his Pylian Horse.
Experienc’d Nestor gives the Son the Reins,
Directs his Judgment, and his Heat restrains;
Nor idly warns the hoary Sire, nor hears
The prudent Son with unattending Ears.
My Son! tho’ youthful Ardor fire thy Berast,
The Gods have lov’d thee, and with Arts have blest.
Neptune and Jove on thee conferr’d the Skill,
Swift round the Goal to turn the flying Wheel.
To guide thy Conduct, little Precept needs;
But slow, and past their Vigour, are my Steeds.
Fear not thy Rivals, tho’ for Swiftness known,
Compare those Rivals Judgment, and thy own:
It is not Strength, but Art, obtains the Prize,
And to be swift is less than to be wise:
’Tis more by Art, than Force of num’rous Strokes,
The dext’rous Woodman shapes the stubborn Oaks;
By Art, the Pilot thro’ the boiling Deep
And howling Tempest, stears the fearless Ship;
And ’tis the Artist wins the glorious Course,
Not those, who trust in Chariots and in Horse.
In vain unskilfull to the Goal they strive,
And short, or wide, th’ungovern’d Courser drive:
While with sure Skill, tho’ with inferior Steeds,
The knowing Racer to his End proceeds;
Fix’d on the Goal his Eye fore-runs the Course,
His Hand unerring steers the steady Horse,
And now contracts, or now extends the Rein,
Observing still the foremost on the Plain.
Mark then the Goal, ’tis easy to be found;
Yon’ aged Trunk, a Cubit from the Ground;
400Of some once-stately Oak the last Remains,
Or hardy Fir, unperish’d with the Rains.
Inclos’d with Stones conspicuous from afar,
And round, a Circle for the wheeling Car.
(Some Tomb perhaps of old, the Dead to grace;
Or then, as now, the Limit of a Race)
Bear close to this, and warily proceed,
A little bending to the left-hand Steed;
But urge the Right, and give him all the Reins;
While thy strict Hand his Fellows Head restrains,
And turns him short; till, doubling as they roll,
The Wheel’s round Naves appear to brush the Goal.
Yet (not to break the Car, or lame the Horse)
Clear of the stony Heap direct the Course;
Lest thro’ Incaution failing, thou may’st be
A Joy to others, a Reproach to me.
So shalt thou pass the Goal, secure of Mind,
And leave unskilful Swiftness far behind.
Tho’ thy fierce Rival drove the matchless Steed
Which bore Adrastus, of celestial Breed;
Or the fam’d Race thro’ all the Regions known,
That whirl’d the Car of proud Laomedon.
Thus, (nought unsaid) the much-advising Sage
Concludes; then sate, stiff with unwieldy Age.
Next bold Meriones was seen to rise,
The last, but not least ardent for the Prize.
They mount their Seats; the Lots their Place dispose;
(Roll’d in his Helmet, these Achilles throws.)
Young Nestor leads the Race: Eumelus then;
And next, the Brother of the King of Men:
Thy Lot, Meriones, the fourth was cast;
And, far the bravest, Diomed, was last.
They stand in order, an impatient Train;
Pelides points the Barrier on the Plain,
And sends before old Phoenix to the Place,
To mark the Racers, and to judge the Race.
At once the Coursers from the Barrier bound;
The lifted Scourges all at once resound;
Their Heart, their Eyes, their Voice, they send before;
And up the Champain thunder from the Shore:
Thick, where they drive, the dusty Clouds arise,
And the lost Courser in the Whirlwind flies;
Loose on their Shoulders the long Manes reclin’d,
Float in their Speed, and dance upon the Wind:
The smoaking Chariots, rapid as they bound,
Now seem to touch the Sky, and now the Ground.
While hot for Fame, and Conquest all their Care,
(Each o’er his flying Courser hung in Air)
Erect with Ardour, pois’d upon the Rein,
They pant, they stretch, they shout along the Plain.
450Now, (the last Compass fetch’d around the Goal)
At the near Prize each gathers all his Soul,
Each burns with double Hope, with double Pain,
Tears up the Shore, and thunders tow’rd the Main.
First flew Eumelus on Pheretian Steeds;
With those of Tros, bold Diomed succeeds:
Close on Eumelus’ Back they puff the Wind,
And seem just mounting on his Car behind;
Full on his Neck he feels the sultry Breeze,
And hov’ring o’er, their stretching Shadows sees.
Then had he lost, or left a doubtful Prize;
But angry Phoebus to Tydides flies,
Strikes from his Hand the Scourge, and renders vain
His matchless Horses labour on the Plain.
Rage fills his Eye with Anguish, to survey
Snatch’d from his Hope, the Glories of the Day.
The Fraud celestial Pallas sees with Pain,
Springs to her Knight, and gives the Scourge again,
And fills his Steeds with Vigour. At a Stroke,
She breaks his Rivals Chariot from the Yoke;
No more their Way the startled Horses held;
The Car revers’d came rat’ling on the Field;
Shot headlong from his Seat, beside the Wheel,
Prone on the Dust th’ unhappy Master fell;
His batter’d Face and Elbows strike the Ground;
Nose, Mouth and Front, one undistinguish’d Wound:
Grief stops his Voice, a Torrent drowns his Eyes;
Before him far the glad Tydides flies;
Minerva’s Spirit drives his matchless Pace,
And crowns him Victor of the labour’d Race.
The next, tho’ distant, Menelas succeeds;
While thus young Nestor animates his Steeds.
Now, now, my gen’rous Pair, exert your Force;
Not that we hope to match Tydides’ Horse,
Since great Minerva wings their rapid Way,
And gives their Lord the Honours of the Day.
But reach Atrides! Shall his Mare out-go
Your Swiftness? Vanquish’d by a female Foe?
Thro’ your neglect if lagging on the Plain
The last ignoble Gift be all we gain;
No more shall Nestor’s Hand your Food supply,
The old Man’s Fury rises, and ye die.
Haste then; yon’ narrow Road before our Sight
Presents th’ occasion, could we use it right.
Thus He. The Coursers at their Master’s Threat
With quicker Steps the sounding Champain beat.
And now Antilochus, with nice survey,
Observes the Compass of the hollow way.
’Twas where by Force of wintry Torrents torn,
Fast by the Road a Precipice was worn:
500Here, where but one could pass, to shun the Throng
The Spartan Hero’s Chariot smoak’d along.
Close up the vent’rous Youth resolves to keep,
Still edging near, and bears him tow’rd the Steep.
Atrides, trembling casts his Eye below,
And wonders at the Rashness of his Foe.
Hold, stay your Steeds—What Madness thus to ride?
This narrow way? Take larger Field (he cry’d)
Or both mull fall —Atrides cry’d in vain;
He flies more fast, and throws up all the Rein.
Far as an able Arm the Disk can send,
When youthful Rivals their full Force extend,
So far Antilochus! thy Chariot flew
Before the King: He, cautious, backward drew
His Horse compell’d; foreboding in his Fears
The rattling Ruin of the clashing Cars,
The flound’ring Coursers rolling on the Plain,
And Conquest lost thro’ frantick Haste to gain.
But thus upbraids his Rival as he flies;
Go, furious Youth! ungen’rous and unwise!
Go, but expect not I’ll the Prize resign;
Add Perjury to Fraud, and make it thine.—
Then to his Steeds with all his Force he cries;
Be swift, be vig’rous, and regain the Prize!
Your Rivals, destitute of youthful Force,
With fainting Knees shall labour in the Course,
And yield the Glory yours—The Steeds obey;
Already at their Heels they wing their Way,
And seem already to retrieve the Day.
Meantime the Grecians in a Ring beheld
The Coursers bounding o’er the dusty Field.
The first who markd them was the Cretan King;
High on a rising Ground, above the Ring,
The Monarch sate; from whence with sure survey
He well observ’d the Chief who led the way,
And heard from far his animating Cries,
And saw the foremost Steed with sharpen’d Eyes;
On whose broad Front a Blaze of shining white,
Like the full Moon, stood obvious to the Sight.
He saw; and rising, to the Greeks begun.
Are yonder Horse discern’d by me alone?
Or can ye, all, another Chief survey,
And other Steeds, than lately led the Way?
Those, tho’ the swiftest, by some God with-held,
Lie sure disabled in the middle Field:
For since the Goal they doubled, round the Plain
I search to find them, but I search in vain.
Perchance the Reins forsook the Driver’s Hand,
And, turn’d too short, he tumbled on the Strand,
Shot from the Chariot; while his Coursers stray
550With frantick Fury from the destin’d Way.
Rise then some other, and inform my Sight,
(For these dim Eyes, perhaps, discern not right)
Yet sure he seems, (to judge by Shape and Air,)
The great Aetolian Chief, renown’d in War.
Old Man! ( Oïleus rashly thus replies)
Thy Tongue too hastily confers the Prize.
Of those who view the Course, not sharpest ey’d,
Nor youngest, yet the readiest to decide.
Eumelus’ Steeds high-bounding in the Chace,
Still, as at first, unrivall’d lead the Race,
I well discern him, as he shakes the Rein,
And hear his Shouts victorious o’er the Plain.
Thus he. Idomeneus incens’d rejoin’d:
Barb’rous of Words! and arrogant of Mind!
Contentious Prince! of all the Greeks beside
The last in Merit, as the first in Pride.
To vile Reproach what Answer can we make?
A Goblet or a Tripod let us stake,
And be the King the Judge. The most unwise
Will learn their Rashness, when they pay the Price.
He said: and Ajax by mad Passion born,
Stern had reply’d; fierce Scorn inhancing Scorn
To fell extreams. But Thetis’ god-like Son,
Awful, amidst them rose; and thus begun.
Forbear ye Chiefs! reproachful to contend;
Much would ye blame, should others thus offend:
And lo! th’approaching Steeds your Contest end.
No sooner had he spoke, but thund’ring near
Drives, thro’ a Stream of Dust, the Charioteer;
High o’er his Head the circling Lash he wields;
His bounding Horses scarcely touch the Fields:
His Car amidst the dusty Whirlwind roll’d,
Bright with the mingled Blaze of Tin and Gold,
Refulgent thro’ the Cloud, no Eye could find
The Track his flying Wheels had left behind:
And the fierce Coursers urg’d their rapid Pace
So swift, it seem’d a Flight, and not a Race.
Now Victor at the Goal Tydides stands,
Quits his bright Car, and springs upon the Sands;
From the hot Steeds the sweaty Torrents stream;
The well-ply’d Whip is hung athwart the Beam;
With Joy brave Sthenelus receives the Prize,
The Tripod-Vase, and Dame with radiant Eyes:
These to the Ships his Train triumphant leads,
The Chief himself unyokes the panting Steeds.
Young Nestor follows (who by Art, not Force,
O’er-past Atrides ) second in the Course.
Behind, Atrides urg’d the Race, or more near
Than to the Courser in his swift Career
600The following Car, just touching with his Heel
And brushing with his Tail the whirling Wheel.
Such, and so narrow now the Space between
The Rivals, late so distant on the Green.
So soon swift Aethe her lost Ground regain’d,
One Length, one Moment had the Race obtain’d.
Merion pursu’d, at greater Distance still,
With tardier Coursers, and inferior Skill.
Last came, Admetus! thy unhappy Son;
Slow dragg’d the Steeds his batter’d Chariot on:
Achilles saw, and pitying thus begun.
Behold! the Man whose matchless Art surpast
The Sons of Greece! the ablest, yet the last!
Fortune denies, but Justice bids us pay
(Since great Tydides bears the first away)
To him the second Honours of the Day.
The Greeks consent with loud applauding Cries,
And then Eumelus had receiv’d the Prize,
But youthful Nestor, jealous of his Fame,
Th’ Award opposes, and asserts his Claim.
Think not (he cries) I tamely will resign
O Peleus Son! the Mare so justly mine.
What if the Gods, the Skilful to confound,
Have thrown the Horse and Horseman to the Ground?
Perhaps he sought not Heav’n by Sacrifice,
And Vows omitted forfeited the Prize.
If yet (Distinction to thy Friend to show,
And please a Soul, desirous to bestow,)
Some Gift must grace Eumelus; view thy Store
Of beauteous Handmaids, Steeds, and shining Ore,
An ample Present let him thence receive,
And Greece shall praise thy gen’rous Thirst to give.
But this, my Prize, I never shall forego;
This, who but touches, Warriors! is my Foe.
Thus spake the Youth, nor did his Words offend;
Pleas’d with the well-turn’d Flattery of a Friend,
Achilles smil’d: The Gift propos’d (he cry’d)
Antilochus! we shall our self provide.
With Plates of Brass the Corselet cover’d o’er,
(The same renown’d Asteropaeus wore)
Whose glitt’ring Margins rais’d with Silver shine;
No vulgar Gift) Eumelus, shall be thine.
He said: Automedon at his Command
The Corselet brought, and gave it to his Hand.
Distinguish’d by his Friend, his Bosom glows
With gen’rous Joy: Then Menelaus rose;
The Herald plac’d the Sceptre in his Hands,
And still’d the Clamour of the shouting Bands.
Not without Cause incens’d at Nestor’s Son,
And inly grieving, thus the King begun:
650The Praise of Wisdom, in thy Youth obtain’d,
An Act so rash ( Antilochus ) has stain’d.
Robb’d of my Glory and my just Reward,
To you O Grecians! be my Wrong declar’d:
So not a Leader shall our Conduct blame,
Or judge me envious of a Rival’s Fame.
But shall not we, ourselves, the Truth maintain?
What needs appealing in a Fact so plain?
What Greek shall blame me, if I bid thee rise,
And vindicate by Oath th’ill-gotten Prize.
Rise if thou dar’st, before thy Chariot stand,
The driving Scourge high-lifted in thy Hand,
And touch thy Steeds, and swear, thy whole Intent
Was but to conquer, not to circumvent.
Swear by that God whose liquid Arms surround
The Globe, and whose dread Earthquakes heave the Ground.
The prudent Chief with calm Attention heard;
Then mildly thus: Excuse, if Youth have err’d;
Superior as thou art, forgive th’Offence,
Nor I thy Equal, or in Years, or Sense.
Thou know’st the Errors of unripen’d Age,
Weak are its Counsels, headlong is its Rage.
The Prize I quit, if thou thy Wrath resign;
The Mare, or ought thou ask’st, be freely thine,
E’er I become (from thy dear Friendship torn)
Hateful to thee, and to the Gods forsworn.
So spoke Antilochus; and at the Word
The Mare contested to the King restor’d.
Joy swells his Soul, as when the vernal Grain
Lifts the green Ear above the springing Plain,
The Fields their Vegetable Life renew,
And laugh and glitter with the Morning Dew:
Such Joy the Spartan’s shining Face o’erspread,
And lifted his gay Heart, while thus he said.
Still may our Souls, O gen’rous Youth! agree,
’Tis now Atrides’ turn to yield to thee.
Rash Heat perhaps a Moment might controul,
Not break, the settled Temper of thy Soul.
Not but (my Friend) ’tis still the wiser way
To wave Contention with superior Sway;
For ah! how few, who should like thee offend,
Like thee, have Talents to regain the Friend?
To plead Indulgence and thy Fault attone,
Suffice thy Father’s Merits, and thy own:
Gen’rous alike, for me, the Sire and Son
Have greatly suffer’d, and have greatly done.
I yield; that all may know, my Soul can bend,
Nor is my Pride preferr’d before my Friend.
He said; and pleas’d his Passion to command,
Resign’d the Courser to Noëmon’s Hand,
700Friend of the youthful Chief: Himself content,
The shining Charger to his Vessel sent.
The golden Talents Merion next obtain’d;
The fifth Reward, the double Bowl, remain’d.
Achilles this to rev’rend Nestor bears,
And thus the purpose of his Gift declares.
Accept thou this, O sacred Sire! (he said)
In dear Memorial of Patroclus dead;
Dead, and for ever lost Patroclus lies,
For ever snatch’d from our desiring Eyes!
Take thou this Token of a grateful Heart,
Tho’ ’tis not thine to hurl the distant Dart,
The Quoit to toss, the pond’rous Mace to wield,
Or urge the Race, or wrestle on the Field.
Thy present Vigour Age has overthrown,
But left the Glory of the past thy own.
He said, and plac’d the Goblet at his side;
With Joy, the venerable King reply’d.
Wisely and well, my Son, thy Words have prov’d
A Senior honour’d, and a Friend belov’d!
Too true it is, deserted of my Strength,
These wither’d Arms and Limbs have fail’d at length.
Oh! had I now that Force I felt of yore,
Known thro’ Buprasium and the Pylian Shore!
Victorious then in ev’ry solemn Game
Ordain’d to Amarynces’ mighty Name;
The brave Epeians gave my Glory way,
Aetolians, Pylians, all resign’d the Day.
I quell’d Clytomedes in Fights of Hand,
And backward hurl’d Ancaeus on the Sand,
Surpast Iphyclus in the swift Career,
Phyleus and Polydorus, with the Spear.
The Sons of Actor won the Prize of Horse,
But won by Numbers, not by Art or Force:
For the fam’d Twins, impatient to survey
Prize after Prize by Nestor born away,
Sprung to their Car; and with united Pains
One lash’d the Coursers, while one rul’d the Reins.
Such once I was! Now to these Tasks succeeds
A younger Race, that emulate our Deeds:
I yield alas! (to Age who must not yield?)
Tho’ once the foremost Hero of the Field.
Go thou, my Son! by gen’rous Friendship led,
With martial Honours decorate the Dead;
While pleas’d I take the Gift thy Hands present,
(Pledge of Benevolence, and kind Intent)
Rejoic’d, of all the num’rous Greeks, to see
Not one but honours sacred Age and me:
Those due distinctions thou so well can’st pay,
May the just Gods return another Day.
750Proud of the Gift, thus spake the Full of Days:
Achilles heard him, prouder of the Praise.
The Prizes next are order’d to the Field
For the bold Champions who the Caestus wield.
A stately Mule, as yet by Toils unbroke,
Of six years Age, unconscious of the Yoke,
Is to the Circus led, and firmly bound;
Next stands a Goblet, massy, large and round.
Achilles rising, thus: Let Greece excite
Two Heroes equal to this hardy Fight;
Who dares his Foe with lifted Arms provoke,
And rush beneath the long-descending Stroke?
On whom Apollo shall the Palm bestow,
And whom the Greeks supreme by Conquest know,
This Mule his dauntless Labours shall repay;
The Vanquish’d bear the massy Bowl away.
This dreadful Combate great Epaeus chose,
High o’er the Crowd, enormous Bulk! he rose,
And seiz’d the Beast, and thus began to say:
Stand forth some Man, to bear the Bowl away!
(Price of his Ruin:) For who dares deny
This Mule my right? th’undoubted Victor I.
Others ’tis own’d, in Fields of Battle shine,
But the first Honours of this Fight are mine;
For who excells in all? Then let my Foe
Draw near, but first his certain Fortune know,
Secure, this Hand shall his whole Frame confound,
Mash all his Bones, and all his Body pound:
So let his Friends be nigh, a needful Train
To heave the batter’d Carcase off the Plain.
The Giant spoke; and in a stupid Gaze
The Host beheld him, silent with Amaze!
’Twas thou, Euryalus! who durst aspire
To meet his Might, and emulate thy Sire,
The great Mecistheus; who in Days of yore
In Theban Games the noblest Trophy bore,
(The Games ordain’d dead Oedipus to grace)
And singly vanquish’d the Cadmaean Race.
Him great Tydides urges to contend,
Warm with the Hopes of Conquest for his Friend,
Officious with the Cincture girds him round;
And to his Wrists the Gloves of Death are bound.
Amid the Circle now each Champion stands,
And poises high in Air his Iron Hands;
With clashing Gantlets now they fiercely close,
Their crackling Jaws re-echoe to the Blows,
And painful Sweat from all their Members flows.
At length Epaeus dealt a weighty Blow
Full on the Cheek of his unwary Foe;
Beneath that pond’rous Arm’s resistless Sway
800Down dropt he, nerveless, and extended lay.
As a large Fish, when Winds and Waters roar,
By some huge Billow dash’d against the Shore,
Lies panting: Not less batter’d with his Wound,
The bleeding Hero pants upon the Ground.
To rear his fallen Foe, the Victor lends
Scornful, his Hand; and gives him to his Friends;
Whose Arms support him, reeling thro’ the Throng,
And dragging his disabled Legs along;
Nodding, his Head hangs down his Shoulder o’er;
His Mouth and Nostrils pour the clotted Gore;
Wrapt round in Mists he lies, and lost to Thought:
His Friends receive the Bowl, too dearly bought.
The third bold Game Achilles next demands,
And calls the Wrestlers to the level Sands:
A massy Tripod for the Victor lies,
Of twice six Oxen its reputed Price;
And next, the Losers Spirits to restore,
A female Captive, valu’d but at four.
Scarce did the Chief the vig’rous Strife propose,
When tow’r-like Ajax and Ulysses rose.
Amid the Ring each nervous Rival stands,
Embracing rigid with implicit Hands:
Close lock’d above, their Heads and Arms are mixt;
Below, their planted Feet at distance fixt:
Like two strong Rafters which the Builder forms
Proof to the wintry Winds and howling Storms,
Their Tops connected, but at wider space
Fixt on the Center stands their solid Base.
Now to the Grasp each manly Body bends;
The humid Sweat from ev’ry Pore descends;
Their Bones resound with Blows: Sides, Shoulders, Thighs
Swell to each Gripe, and bloody Tumours rise.
Nor could Ulysses, for his Art renown’d,
O’erturn the Strength of Ajax on the Ground;
Nor could the Strength of Ajax overthrow
The watchful Caution of his artful Foe.
While the long Strife ev’n tir’d the Lookers-on,
Thus to Ulysses spoke great Telamon.
Or let me lift thee, Chief, or lift thou me:
Prove we our Force, and Jove the rest decree.
He said; and straining, heav’d him off the Ground
With matchless Strength; that time Ulysses found
The Strength t’evade, and where the Nerves combine,
His Ankle strook: The Giant fell supine:
Ulysses following, on his Bosom lies;
Shouts of Applause run rattling thro the Skies.
Ajax to lift, Ulysses next essays,
He barely stirr’d him, but he could not raise:
His Knee lock’d fast the Foe’s Attempt deny’d;
850And grappling close, they tumble side by side.
Defil’d with honourable Dust, they roll,
Still breathing Strife, and unsubdu’d of Soul:
Again they rage, again to Combat rise;
When great Achilles thus divides the Prize.
Your noble Vigour, oh my Friends restrain;
Nor weary out your gen’rous Strength in vain.
Ye both have won: Let others who excell
Now prove that Prowess you have prov’d so well.
The Hero’s Words the willing Chiefs obey,
From their tir’d Bodies wipe the Dust away,
And, cloth’d anew, the following Games survey.
And now succeed the Gifts, ordain’d to grace
The Youths contending in the rapid Race.
A silver Urn; that full six Measures held,
By none in Weight or Workmanship excell’d:
Sidonian Artists taught the Frame to shine,
Elaborate, with Artifice divine;
Whence Tyrian Sailors did the Prize transport,
And gave to Thoas at the Lemnian Port:
From him descended good Eunaeus heir’d
The glorious Gift; and, for Lycaon spar’d,
To brave Patroclus gave the rich Reward.
Now, the same Hero’s Funeral Rites to grace,
It stands the Prize of Swiftness in the Race.
A well-fed Ox was for the second plac’d;
And half a Talent must content the last.
Achilles rising then bespoke the Train:
Who hopes the Palm of Swiftness to obtain,
Stand forth, and bear these Prizes from the Plain.
The Hero said, and starting from his Place
Oïlean Ajax rises to the Race;
Ulysses next; and he whose Speed surpast
His youthful Equals, Nestor’s Son the last.
Rang’d in a Line the ready Racers stand;
Pelides points the Barrier with his Hand;
All start at once; Oïleus led the Race;
The next Ulysses, meas’ring Pace with Pace;
Behind him, diligently close, he sped,
As closely following as the running Thread
The Spindle follows, and displays the Charms
Of the fair Spinster’s Breast, and moving Arms:
Graceful in Motion thus, his Foe he plies,
And treads each Footstep e’er the Dust can rise:
His glowing Breath upon his Shoulders plays;
Th’admiring Greeks loud Acclamations raise,
To him they give their Wishes, Hearts, and Eyes,
And send their Souls before him as he flies.
Now three times turn’d in prospect of the Goal,
The panting Chief to Pallas lifts his Soul:
900Assist O Goddess! (thus in Thought he pray’d)
And present at his Thought, defcends the Maid.
Buoy’d by her heav’nly Force, he seems to swim,
And feels a Pinion lifting ev’ry Limb.
All fierce, and ready now the Prize to gain,
Unhappy Ajax stumbles on the Plain;
(O’erturn’d by Pallas ) where the slipp’ry Shore
Was clogg’d with slimy Dung, and mingled Gore.
(The self-same Place beside Patroclus’ Pyre,
Where late the slaughter’d Victims fed the Fire)
Besmear’d with Filth, and blotted o’er with Clay,
Obscene to sight, the ruefull Racer lay;
The well-fed Bull (the second Prize) he shar’d,
And left the Urn Ulysses’ rich Reward.
Then, grasping by the Horn the mighty Beast,
The baffled Hero thus the Greeks addrest.
Accursed Fate! the Conquest I forego;
A Mortal I, a Goddess was my Foe:
She urg’d her Fav’rite on the rapid Way,
And Pallas, not Ulysses won the Day.
Thus fow’rly wail’d he, sputt’ring Dirt and Gore;
A burst of Laughter echo’d thro’ the Shore.
Antilochus, more hum’rous than the rest,
Takes the last Prize, and takes it with a Jest.
Why with our wiser Elders should we strive?
The Gods still love them, and they always thrive.
Ye see, to Ajax I must yield the Prize;
He to Ulysses, still more ag’d and wise;
(A green old Age unconscious of Decays,
That proves the Hero born in better Days!)
Behold his Vigor in this active Race!
Achilles only boasts a swifter Pace:
For who can match Achilles? He who can,
Must yet be more than Hero, or than Man.
Th’Effect succeeds the Speech. Pelides cries,
Thy artful Praise deserves a better Prize.
Nor Greece in vain shall hear thy Friend extoll’d;
Receive a Talent of the purest Gold.
The Youth departs content. The Hosts admire
The Son of Nestor, worthy of his Sire.
Next these a Buckler, Spear and Helm, he brings,
Cast on the Plain the brazen Burthen rings:
Arms, which of late divine Sarpedon wore,
And great Patroclus in short Triumph bore.
Stand forth the bravest of our Host! (he cries)
Whoever dares deserve so rich a Prize!
Now grace the Lists before our Army’s Sight,
And sheath’d in Steel, provoke his Foe to fight.
Who first the jointed Armour shall explore,
And stain his Rival’s Mail with issuing Gore;
950The Sword, Asteropeus possest of old,
(A Thracian Blade, distinct with Studs of Gold)
Shall pay the Stroke, and grace the Striker’s Side:
These Arms in common let the Chief divide:
For each brave Champion, when the Combat ends,
A sumptuous Banquet at our Tent attends.
Fierce, at the Word, uprose great Tydeus’ Son,
And the huge Bulk of Ajax Telamon.
Clad in refulgent Steel on either hand,
The dreadful Chiefs amid the Circle stand:
Low’ring they meet, tremendous to the Sight;
Each Argive Bosom beats with fierce Delight.
Oppos’d in Arms not long they idly stood,
But thrice they clos’d, and thrice the Charge renew’d.
A furious Pass the Spear of Ajax made
Thro’ the broad Shield, but at the Corselet stay’d:
Not thus the Foe: His Jav’lin aim’d above
The Buckler’s Margin, at the Neck he drove.
But Greece now trembling for her Hero’s Life,
Bade share the Honours, and surcease the Strife.
Yet still the Victor’s Due Tydides gains,
With him the Sword and studded Belt remains.
Then hurl’d the Hero, thund’ring on the Ground
A Mass of Iron, (an enormous Round)
Whose Weight and Size the circling Greeks admire,
Rude from the Furnace, and but shap’d by Fire.
This mighty Quoit Aëtion wont to rear,
And from his whirling Arm dismiss in Air:
The Giant by Achilles slain, he stow’d
Among his Spoils this memorable Load.
For this, he bids those nervous Artists vie,
That teach the Disk to sound along the Sky.
Let him whose Might can hurl this Bowl, arise,
Who farthest hurls it, take it as his Prize:
If he be one, enrich’d with large Domain
Of Downs for Flocks, and Arable for Grain,
Small Stock of Iron needs that Man provide;
His Hinds and Swains whole years shall be supply’d
From hence: Nor ask the neighb’ring City’s Aid,
For Plowshares, Wheels, and all the rural Trade.
Stern Polyphaetes stept before the Throng,
And great Leonteus, more than mortal strong;
Whose Force with rival Forces to oppose,
Uprose great Ajax; up Epaeus rose.
Each stood in order: First Epaeus threw;
High o’er the wond’ring Crowds the whirling Circle flew.
Leonteus next a little space surpast,
And third, the Strength of god-like Ajax cast.
O’er both their Marks it flew; till fiercely flung
From Polypaetes Arm, the Discus sung:
1000Far, as a Swain his whirling Sheephook throws,
That distant falls among the grazing Cows,
So past them all the rapid Circle flies:
His Friends (while loud Applauses shake the Skies)
With Force conjoin’d heave off the weighty Prize
Those, who in skilful Archery contend
He next invites the twanging Bow to bend:
And twice ten Axes casts amidst the Round,
(Ten double-edg’d, and ten that singly wound.)
The Mast, which late a first-rate Galley bore,
The Hero fixes in the sandy Shore:
To the tall Top a milk-white Dove they tye,
The trembling Mark at which their Arrows fly.
Whose Weapon strikes yon’ flutt’ring Bird, shall bear
These two-edg’d Axes, terrible in War;
The single, he, whose Shaft divides the Cord.
He said: Experienc’d Merion took the Word;
And skilful Teucer: In the Helm they threw
Their Lots inscrib’d, and forth the latter flew.
Swift from the String the sounding Arrow flies;
But flies unblest! No grateful Sacrifice,
No firstling Lambs, unheedful! didst thou vow,
To Phoebus, Patron of the Shaft and Bow.
For this, thy well-aim’d Arrow, turn’d aside,
Err’d from the Dove, yet cut the Cord that ty’d:
A-down the Main-mast fell the parted String,
And the free Bird to Heav’n displays her Wing:
Seas, Shores, and Skies with loud Applause resound,
And Merion eager meditates the Wound;
He takes the Bow, directs the Shaft above,
And following with his Eye the soaring Dove,
Implores the God to speed it thro’ the Skies,
With Vows of firstling Lambs, and grateful Sacrifice.
The Dove, in airy Circles as she wheels,
Amid the Clouds the piercing Arrow feels;
Quite thro’ and thro’ the Point its Passage found,
And at his Feet fell bloody to the Ground.
The wounded Bird, e’er yet she breath’d her last,
With flagging Wings alighted on the Mast,
A Moment hung, and spread her Pinions there,
Then sudden dropt, and left her Life in Air.
From the pleas’d Crowd new Peals of Thunder rise,
And to the Ships brave Merion bears the Prize.
To close the Fun’ral Games, Achilles last
A massy Spear amid the Circle plac’d,
And ample Charger of unsullyed Frame,
With Flow’rs high-wrought, not blacken’d yet by Flame.
For these he bids the Heroes prove their Art
Whose dext’rous Skill directs the flying Dart.
Here too great Merion hopes the noble Prize;
1050Nor here disdain’d the King of Men to rise.
With Joy Pelides saw the Honour paid,
Rose to the Monarch and respectful said.
Thee first in Virtue, as in Pow’r supreme,
O King of Nations! all thy Greeks proclaim;
In ev’ry martial Game thy Worth attest,
And know thee both their Greatest, and their Best.
Take then the Prize, but let brave Merion bear
This beamy Jav’lin in thy Brother’s War.
Pleas’d from the Hero’s Lips his Praise to hear,
The King to Merion gives the brazen Spear:
But, set apart for sacred Use, commands
The glitt’ring Charger to Talthybius’ Hands.
Observations on the 23rd Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVI.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
- Note XLIII.
- Note XLIV.
- Note XLV.
Note I.
THIS, and the following Book, which contain the Description of the Funeral of Patroclus, and other Matters relating to Hector, are undoubtedly superadded to the grand Catastrophe of the Poem; for the Story is compleatly finish’d with the Death of that Hero in the 22 d Book. Many judicious Criticks have been of opinion that Homer is blameable for protracting it. Virgil closes the whole Scene of Action with the Death of Turnus, and leaves the rest to be imagin’d by the Mind of the Reader: He does not draw the Picture at full Length, but delineates it so far, that we cannot fail of imagining the whole Draught. There is however one thing to be said in favour of Homer which may perhaps justify him in his Method, that what he undertook was to paint the Anger of Achilles: And as that Anger does not die with Hector, but persecutes his very remains, so the Poet still keeps up to his Subject; nay it seems to require that he should carry down the Relation of that Resentment, which is the Foundation of his Poem, till it is fully satisfy’d: And as this survives Hector, and gives the Poet an Opportunity of still shewing many sad Effects of Achilles’s Anger, the two following Books may be thought not to be Excrescencies, but essential to the Poem.
Virgil had been inexcusable had he trod in Homer’s Footsteps; for it is evident that the Fall of Turnus, by giving Aeneas a full Power over Italy, answers the whole Design and Intention of the Poem; had he gone farther he had overshot his Mark: And tho’ Homer proceeds after Hector’s Death, yet the Subject is still the Anger of Achilles. We are now past the War and Violence of the Ilias, the Scenes of Blood are closed during the rest of the Poem; we may look back with a pleasing kind of Horror upon the Anger of Achilles, and see what dire Effects it has wrought in the compass of nineteen Days: Troy and Greece are both in Mourning for it, Heaven and Earth, Gods and Men, have suffer’d in the Conflict. The Reader seems landed upon the Shore after a violent Storm; and has Leisure to survey the Consequences of the Tempest, and the Wreck occasion’d by the former Commotions, Troy weeping for Hector, and Greece for Patroclus. Our Passions have been in an Agitation since the opening of the Poem; wherefore the Poet, like some great Master in Musick, softens his Notes, and melts his Readers into Tenderness and Pity.
Note II.
VERSE 18. Tears bathe their Arms, and tears the Sands bedew,— —Thetis aids their Woe— ]
It is not easy to give a reason why Thetis should be said to excite the Grief of the Myrmidons, and of Achilles; it had seem’d more natural for the Mother to have compos’d the Sorrows of the Son, and restored his troubled Mind to Tranquillity.
But such a Procedure would have outrag’d the Character of Achilles, who is all along describ’d to be of such a Violence of Temper, that he is not easy to be pacify’d at any time, much less upon so great an Incident as the Death of his Friend Patroclus. Perhaps the Poet made use of this Fiction in honour of Achilles; he makes every Passion of his Hero considerable, his Sorrow as well as Anger is important, and he cannot grieve but a Goddess attends him, and a whole Army weeps.
Some Commentators fancy’d that Homer animates the very Sands of the Seas, and the Arms of the Myrmidons, and makes them sensible of the Loss of Patroclus; the preceding Words seem to strengthen that Opinion, because the Poet introduces a Goddess to raise the Sorrow of the Army. But Eustathius seems not to give into this Conjecture, and I think very judiciously; for what Relation is there between the Sands of the Shores, and the Arms of the Myrmidons? It would have been more poetical to have said, the Sands and the Rocks, than the Sands and the Arms; but it is very natural to say, that the Soldiers wept so bitterly, that their Armour and the very Sands were wet with their Tears. I believe this Remark will appear very just by reading the Verse, with a Comma after [Greek], thus,
[Greek]
Then the Construction will be natural and easy, Period will answer Period in the Greek, and the Sense in English will be, the Sands were wet, and the Arms were wet, with the Tears of the Mourners.
But however this be, there is a very remarkable Beauty in the run of the Verse in Homer, every Word has a melancholy Cadence, and the Poet has not only made the Sands and the Arms, but even his very Verse, to lament with Achilles.
Note III.
VERSE 23. His slaught’ring Hands yet red with Blood he laid On his dead Friend’s cold Breast— ]
I could not pass by this Passage without observing to my Reader the great Beauty of this Epithet, [Greek]. An ordinary Poet would have contented himself with saying, he laid his Hand upon the Breast of Patroclus, but Homer knows how to raise the most trivial Circumstance, and by adding this one Word, he laid his deadly Hands, or his murderous Hands on Patroclus Breast, he fills our Minds with great Ideas, and by a single Epithet recalls to our Thoughts all the noble Atchievements of Achilles thro’ the Iliad.
Note IV.
VERSE 25. All hail Patroclus, &c. ]
There is in this Apostrophe of Achilles to the Ghost of Patroclus, a sort of Savageness, and a mixture of Softness and Atrocity, which are highly conformable to his Character. Dacier.
Note V.
VERSE 51. To cleanse his conqu’ring Hands— —The Chief refus’d— ]
This is conformable to the Custom of the Orientals: Achilles will not be induc’d to wash, and afterwards retires to the Seashore, and sleeps on the Ground. It is just thus that David mourns in the Scriptures; he refuses to wash, or to take any Repast, but retires from Company, and lies upon the Earth.
Note VI.
VERSE 78. The Ghost of Patroclus.]
Homer has introduc’d into the former parts of the Poem the Personages of Gods and Goddesses from Heaven, and of Furies from Hell: He has embellished it with Ornaments from Earth, Sea, and Air; and he here opens a new Scene, and brings to the view a Ghost, the Shade of the departed Friend: By these Methods he diversifies his Poem with new and surprizing Circumstances, and awakens the Attention of the Reader; at the same time he very poetically adapts his Language to the Circumstances of this imaginary Patroclus, and teaches us the Opinions that prevail’d in his time, concerning the State of separate Souls.
Note VII.
VERSE 92. Forbid to pass th’irremeable Flood. ]
It was the common Opinion of the Ancients, that the Souls of the Departed were not admitted into the Number of the Happy till their Bodies had receiv’d the funeral Rites; they suppos’d those that wanted them wander’d an hundred Years before they were wafted over the infernal River: Virgil perhaps had this Passage of Homer in his view in the sixth Aeneis, at least he coincides with his Sentiments concerning the State of the departed Souls.
Haec omnis, quam cernis inops inhumata{que} Turba est: Nec ripas datur horrendas, nec rauca fluenta Transportare priùs, quàm sedibus ossa quierunt; Centum errant annos volitant{que} haec littora circum Tum demum admissi stagna exoptata revisunt.
It was during this Interval, between their Death and the Rites of Funeral, that they suppos’d the only Time allow’d for separate Spirits to appear to Men; therefore Patroclus here tells his Friend,
—To the farther Shore When once we pass, the Soul returns no more.
For the fuller understanding of Homer, it is necessary to be acquainted with his Notion of the State of the Soul after Death: He follow’d the Philosophy of the Aegyptians, who suppos’d Man to be compounded of three Parts, an intelligent Mind, a Vehicle for that Mind, and a Body; the Mind they call’d [Greek], or [Greek], the Vehicle [Greek], Image or Soul, and the gross Body [Greek]. The Soul, in which the Mind was lodg’d, was suppos’d exactly to resemble the Body in Shape, Magnitude, and Features; for this being in the Body as the Statue in its Mold, so soon as it goes forth is properly the Image of that Body in which it was enclos’d: This it was that appear’d to Achilles, with the full Resemblance of his Friend Patroclus. Vid. Dacier on the Life of Pythagoras, p. 71.
Note VIII.
VERSE 108. May mix our Ashes in one common Grave. ]
There is something very pathetical in this whole Speech of Patroclus; he begins it with kind Reproaches, and blames Achilles with a friendly Tenderness; he recounts to him the inseparable Affection that had been between them in their Lives, and makes it his last Request, that they may not be parted even in Death, but that their Bones may rest in the same Urn. The Speech itself is of a due Length, it ought not to be very short, because this Apparition is an Incident entirely different from any other in the whole Poem, and consequently the Reader would not have been satisfy’d with a cursory mention of it; neither ought it to be long, because this would have been contrary to the Nature of such Apparitions, whose Stay upon Earth has ever been describ’d as very short, and consequently they cannot be suppos’d to use many Words.
The Circumstance of being buried in the same Urn, is entirely conformable to the Eastern Custom: There are innumerable Instances in the Scriptures of great Personages being buried with their Fathers: So Joseph would not suffer his Bones to rest in Aegypt, but commands his Brethren to carry them into Canaan to the Burying-place of his Father Jacob.
Note IX.
VERSE 122. The Form subsists without the Body’s Aid, Aerial Semblance, and an empty Shade. ]
The Words of Homer are
[Greek]
In which there seems to be a great Difficulty; it being not casy to explain how Achilles can say that the Ghost of his Friend had no Understanding, when it had but just made such a rational and moving Speech: Especially when the Poet introduces the Apparition with the very Shape, Air, and Voice of Patroclus. But this Passage will be clearly understood, by explaining the Notion which the Ancients entertain’d of the Souls of the Departed, according to the fore-cited triple Division of Mind, Image, and Body. They imagin’d that the Soul was, not only separated from the Body at the Hour of Death, but that there was a farther Separation of the [Greek], or Understanding, from its [Greek], or Vehicle; so that while the [Greek], or Image of the Body, was in Hell, the [Greek], or Understanding, might be in Heaven: And that this is a true Explication is evident from a Passage in the Odysseis, Book 11. ℣. 600.
[Greek]
Now I the Strength of Hercules behold, A tow’ring Spectre of gigantick Mold; A shadowy Form! for high in Heav’n’s Abodes Himself resides, a God among the Gods! There in the bright Assemblies of the Skies He Nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns with Joys.
By this it appears that Homer was of opinion that Hercules was in Heaven, while his [Greek], or Image, was in Hell: So that when this second Separation is made, the Image or Vehicle becomes a mere thoughtless Form.
We have this whole Doctrine very distinctly deliver’d by Plutarch in these Words.
"Man is a compound Subject; but not of two Parts, as is commonly believed, because the Understanding is generally accounted a Part of the Soul; whereas indeed it as far exceeds the Soul, as the Soul is diviner than the Body. Now the Soul, when compounded with the Understanding, makes Reason, and when compounded with the Body, Passion: Whereof the one is the Source or Principle of Pleasure or Pain, the other of Vice or Virtue. Man therefore properly dies two Deaths; the first Death makes him two of three, and the second makes him one of two."
[Plutarch of the Face in the Moon.
Note X.
VERSE 139. O’er Hills, o’er Dales, o’er Rocks, o’er Crags they go— On all sides round the Forest hurls her Oaks Headlong— ]
The Numbers in the Original of this whole Passage are admirably adapted to the Images the Verses convey to us. Every Ear must have felt the Propriety of Sound in this Line,
[Greek]
That other in its kind is no less exact,
[Greek]—
Dionysius of Halicarnassus has collected many Instances of these sorts of Beauties in Homer. This Description of felling the Forests, so excellent as it is, is comprehended in a few Lines, which has left room for a larger and more particular one in Statius, one of the best (I think) in that Author.
—Cadit ardua fagus, Chaoniumque nemus, brumaeque illaesa cupressus; Procumbunt piceae, flammis alimenta supremis, Ornique, iliceaeque trabes, metuendaque sulco Taxus, & infandos belli potura cruores Fraxinus, atque situ non expugnabile robur: Hinc audax abies, & odorae vulnere pinus Scinditur, acclinant intonsa cacumina terrae Alnus amica fretis, nec inhospita vitibus ulmus, &c.
I the rather cite this fine Passage, because I find it copied by two of the greatest Poets of our own Nation, Chaucer and Spencer. The first in the Assembly of Fowls, the second in his Fairy Queen. lib. 1.
The sailing Pine, the Cedar proud and tall, The Vine-prop Elm, the Poplar never dry, The builder Oak, sole King of Forests all, The Aspine good for Staves, the Cypress Funeral.
The Laurel, Meed of mighty Conquerors, And Poets sage: The Fir that weepeth still, The Willow, worn of forlorn Paramours, The Ewe obedient to the Bender’s Will, The Birch for Shafts, the Sallow for the Mill, The Myrrh, sweet bleeding in the bitter Wound, The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill, The fruitful Olive, and the Platane round, The Carver Holme, the Maple seldom inward sound.
Note XI.
VERSE 158. Each in refulgent Arms, &c—]
’Tis not to be suppos’d that this was a general Custom used at all Funerals; but Patroclus being a Warrior he is buried like a Soldier, with military Honours. Eustathius.
Note XII.
VERSE 164. O’er all the Corse their scatterd Locks they throw. ]
The Ceremony of cutting off the Hair in honour of the Dead was practis’d not only among the Greeks, but also among other Nations; Thus Statius Thebaid. VI.
—Tergoque & pectore fusam Caesariem ferro minuit, sectisque jacentis Obnubit tenuia ora comis.
This Custom is taken notice of in holy Scripture: Ezekiel describing a great Lamentation, says, They shall make themselves utterly bald for thee, ch. 27. ℣. 31. I believe it was done not only in token of Sorrow, but perhaps had a conceal’d Meaning, that as the Hair was cut from the Head, and was never more to be join’d to it, so was the Dead for ever cut off from the Living, never more to return.
I must just observe that this Ceremony of cutting off the Hair was not always in token of Sorrow; Lycophron in his Cassandra, ℣. 976. describing a general Lamentation, says
[Greek]
A Length of unshorn Hair adorn’d their Backs.
And that the Ancients sometimes had their Hair cut off in token of Joy is evident from Juvenal Sat. 12. ℣. 82.
—Gaudent ibi vertice raso Garrula securi narrare pericula Nautae.
This seeming Contradiction will be solv’d by having respect to the different Practices of different Nations. If it was the general Custom of any Country to wear long Hair, then the cutting it off was a token of Sorrow; but if it was the Custom to wear short Hair, then the letting it grow long and neglecting it, shew’d that such People were Mourners.
Note XIII.
VERSE 166. Supporting with his Hands the Hero’s Head. ]
Achilles follows the Corpse as chief Mourner, and sustains the Head of his Friend: This last Circumstance seems to be neral; thus Euripides in the Funeral of Rhesus, ℣. 886.
[Greek]
What God, O King, with his Hands supports the Head of the deceased?
Note XIV.
VERSE 173. And sacred grew to Sperchius honour’d Flood. ]
It was the Custom of the Ancients not only to offer their own Hair, but likewise to consecrate that of their Children to the River-Gods of their Countrey. This is what Pausanias shews in his Attics: Before you pass the Cephisa (says he) you find the Tomb of Theodorus, who was the most excellent Actor of his Time for Tragedy; and on the Banks you see two Statues, one of Mnesimachus, and the other of his Son, who cut off his Hair in honour of the Rivers; for that this was in all Ages the Custom of the Greeks, may be inferr’d from Homer ’s Poetry, where Peleus promises by a solemn Vow to consecrate to the River Sperchius the Hair of his Son, if he returns safe from the Trojan War. This Custom was likewise in Aegypt, where Philostratus tells us, that Memnon consecrated his Hair to the Nile. This Practice of Achilles was imitated by Alexander at the Funeral of Hephaestion. Spondanus.
Note XV.
VERES 226. Coelestial Venus, &c. ]
Homer has here introduc’d a Series of Allegories in the Compass of a few Lines: The Body of Hector may be suppos’d to have continued beautiful even after he was slain; and Venus being the President of Beauty, the Poet by a natural Fiction tells us it was preserv’d by that Goddess.
Apollo’s covering the Body with a Cloud is a very natural Allegory: For the Sun (says Eustathius ) has a double Quality which produces contrary Effects; the Heat of it causes a Dryness, but at the same time it exhales the Vapours of the Earth, from whence the Clouds of Heaven are form’d. This Allegory may be founded upon Truth; there might happen to be a cool Season while Hector lay unburied, and Apollo, or the Sun, raising Clouds which intercept the Heat of his Beams, by a very easy Fiction in Poetry may be introduc’d in Person to preserve the Body of Hector.
Note XVI.
VERSE 261. The Allegory of the Winds. ]
A Poet ought to express nothing vulgarly; and sure no Poet ever trespass’d less against this Rule than Homer; the Fruitfulness of his Invention is continually raising Incidents new and surprising. Take this Passage out of its poetical Dress, and it will be no more than this: A strong Gale of Wind blew, and so increased the Flame that it soon consum’d the Pile. But Homer introduces the Gods of the Winds in Person: And Iris, or the Rainbow, being (as Eustathius observes) a Sign not only of Showers, but of Winds, he makes them come at her Summons.
Every Circumstance is well adapted: As soon as the Winds see Iris, they rise; that is, when the Rainbow appears, the the Wind rises: She refuses to sit, and immediately returns; that is, the Rainbow is never seen long at one time, but soon appears, and soon vanishes: She returns over the Ocean; that is, the Bow is compos’d of Waters, and it would have been an unnatural Fiction to have describ’d her as passing by Land.
The Winds are all together in the Cave of Zephyrus, which may imply that they were there as at their general Rendezvous; or that the Nature of all the Winds is the same; or that the Western Wind is in that Countrey the most constant, and consequently it may be said that at such Seasons all the Winds are assembled in one Corner, or rendezvous with Zephyrus. Iris will not enter the Cave: It is the Nature of the Rainbow to be stretch’d entirely upon the Surface, and therefore this Fiction is agreeable to Reason.
When Iris says that the Gods are partaking Hecatombs in Aethiopia, it is to be remember’d that the Gods are represented there in the first Book, before the Scenes of War were open’d, and now they are closed, they return thither. Eustathius— Thus Homer makes the Anger of his Hero so important, that it rouz’d Heaven to Arms, and now when it is almost appeas’d, Achilles as it were gives Peace to the Gods.
Note XVII.
VERSE 306. Hereafter Greece a nobler Pyle shall raise. ]
We see how Achilles consults his own Glory; the desire of it prevails over his Tenderness for Patroclus, and he will not permit any Man, not even his belov’d Patroclus, to share an equality of Honour with himself, even in the Grave. Eustathius.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 320. The Games for Patroclus.]
The Conduct of Homer in enlarging upon the Games at the Funeral of Patroclus is very judicious: There had undoubtedly been such Honours paid to several Heroes during this War, as appears from a Passage in the ninth Book, where Agamemnon to enhance the Value of the Horses which he offers Achilles, says, that any Person would be rich that had Treasures equal to the Value of the Prizes they had won; which Races must have been run during the Seige: for had they been before it, the Horses would now have been too old to be of any Value, this being the tenth Year of the War. But he Poet passes all those Games over in Silence, and reserves them for this Season; not only in honour of Patroclus, but also of his Hero Achilles; who exhibits Games to a whole Army; great Generals are Candidates for the Prizes, and he himself sits the Judge and Arbitrator: Thus in Peace as well as War the Poet maintains the Superiority of the Character of Achilles. But there is another Reason why the Poet deferr’d to relate any Games that were exhibited at any preceding Funerals: The Death of Patroclus was the most eminent Period; and consequently the most proper Time for such Games.
’Tis farther observable, that he chuses this peculiar Time with great Judgment. When the Fury of the War rag’d, the Army could not well have found Leisure for the Games, and they might have met with Interruption from the Enemy: But Hector being dead, all Troy is in Confusion: They are in too great a Consternation to make any Attempts, and therefore the Poet could not possibly have chosen a more happy Opportunity. Eustathius.
Note XIX.
VERSE 347. Lost is Patroclus now, &c.]
I am not ignorant that Homer has frequently been blamed for such little Digressions as these; in this Passage he gives us the Genealogy of his Horses, which he has frequently told us in the preceding part of the Poem. But Eustathius justifies his Conduct, and says that it was very proper to commend the Virtue of these Horses upon this Occasion, when Horses were to contend for Victory: At the same time he takes an Opportunity to make an honourable Mention of his Friend Patroclus, in whose Honour these Games were exhibited.
It may be added as a farther Justification of Homer, that this last Circumstance is very natural: Achilles while he commends his Horses remembers how careful Patroclus had been of them: His Love for his Friend is so great, that the minutest Circumstance recalls him to his Mind; and such little Digressions, such Avocations of Thought as these, very naturally proceed from the Overflows of Love and Sorrow.
Note XX.
VERSE 363. Whom rich Echepolus, &c. ]
One wou’d think that Agamemnon might be accus’d of Avarice, in dispensing a Man from going to the War for the sake of a Horse; but Aristotle very well observes, that this Prince is praiseworthy for having preferr’d a Horse to a Person so cowardly, and so uncapable of Service. It may also be conjectur’d from this Passage, that even in those elder Times it was the Custom, that those who were willing to be excus’d from the War, should give either a Horse or a Man and often both. Thus Scipio going to Africa order’d the Sicilians either to attend him, or to give him Horses or Men: And Agesilaus being at Ephesus and wanting Cavalry, made a Proclamation, that the rich Men who wou’d not serve in the War should be dispens’d with, provided they furnish’d a Man and a Horse in their stead: In which, says Plutarch, he wisely follow’d the Example of King Agamemnon, who excus’d a very rich Coward from serving in Person, for a Present of a good Mare. Eustathius. Dacier.
Note XXI.
VERSE 369. Experienc’d Nestor, &c. ]
The Poet omits no Opportunity of paying Honour to his old favourite Nestor, and I think he is no where more particularly complemented than in this Book. His Age had disabled him from bearing any share in the Games; and yet he artfully introduces him not as a mere Spectator, but as an Actor in the Sports. Thus he as it were wins the Prize for Antilochus, Antilochus wins not by the Swiftness of his Horses, but by the Wisdom of Nestor. This fatherly Tenderness is wonderfully natural: We see him in all imaginable Inquietude and Concern for his Son; He comes to the Barrier, stands beside the Chariot, animates his Son by his Praises, and directs him by his Lessons: You think the old Man’s Soul mounts on the Chariot with his Antilochus, to partake the same Dangers, and run the same Career.
Nothing can be better adapted to the Character than this Speech; he expatiates upon the Advantages of Wisdom over Strength, which is a tacit Complement to himself: And had there been a Prize for Wisdom, undoubtedly the old Man would have claim’d it as his Right. Eustathius.
Note XXII.
VERSE 426. The Lots their place dispose. ]
According to these Lots the Charioteers took their Places; but to know whether they stood all in an equal Front, or one behind the other, is a Difficulty: Eustathius says the Ancients were of Opinion that they did not stand in one Front; because it is evident that he who had the first Lot had a great Advantage of the other Charioteers: If he had not, why should Achilles cast Lots? Madam Dacier is of Opinion that they all stood a-breast at the Barrier, and that the first would still have a sufficient Advantage, as he was nearer the Bound, and stood within the rest, whereas the others must take a larger Circle, and consequently were forc’d to run a greater Compass of Ground. Phoenix was plac’d as an Inspector of the Race, that is, says Eustathius, he was to make report whether they had observ’d the Laws of the Race in their several Turnings.
Sophocles observes the same Method with Homer in relation to the Lots and Inspectors, in his Electra.
— [Greek]
The constituted Judges assign’d the Places according to the Lots.
The Ancients say that the Charioteers started at the Sigaeum, where the Ships of Achilles lay, and ran towards the Rhaeteum, from the Ships towards the Shores. But Aristarchus affirm’d that they run in the Compass of Ground of five Stadia, which lay between the Wall and the Tents toward the Shore. Eustathius.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 457. And seem just mounting on his Car behind. ]
A more natural Image than this could not be thought of. The Poet makes us Spectators of the Race, we see Diomed pressing upon Eumelus so closely, that his Chariot seems to climb the Chariot of Eumelus.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 464. Rage fills his Eye with Anguish to survey, &c.]
We have seen Diomed surrounded with innumerable Dangers, acting in the most perilous Scenes of Blood and Death, yet never shed one Tear: And now he weeps on a small occasion, for a mere Trifle: This must be ascrib’d to the Nature of Mankind, who are often transported with Trifles; and there are certain unguarded Moments in every Man’s Life; so that he who could meet the greatest Dangers with Intrepidity, may thro’ Anger be betray’d into an Indecency. Eustathius. The reason why Apollo is angry at Diomed, according to Eustathius, is because he was interested for Eumelus, whose Mares he had fed, when he serv’d Admetus; but I fancy he is under a Mistake: This indeed is a Reason why he should favour Eumelus, but not why he should be angry at Diomed. I rather think that the Quarrel of Apollo with Diomed was personal; because he offer’d him a Violence in the first Book, and Apollo still resents it.
The Fiction of Minerva’s assisting Diomed is grounded upon his being so wise as to take a couple of Whips to prevent any Mischance: So that Wisdom, or Pallas, may be said to lend him one. Eustathius.
Note XXV.
VERSE 486. The Speech of Antilochus to his Horses. ]
I fear Antilochus his Speech to his Horses is blameable; Eustathius himself seems to think it a Fault that he should speak so much in the very Heat of the Race. He commands and sooths, counsels and threatens his Horses, as if they were reasonable Creatures. The subsequent Speech of Menelaus is more excusable as it is more short, but both of them are spoken in a Passion, and Anger we know makes us speak to every thing, and we discharge it upon the most senseless Objects.
Note XXVI.
VERSE 563. The Dispute between Idomeneus and Ajax.]
Nothing could be more naturally imagin’d than this Contention at a Horse-Race: The Leaders were divided into Parties, and each was interested for his Friend: The Poet had a two-fold Design, not only to embellish and diversity his Poem by such natural Circumstances, but also to shew us, as Eustathius observes, from the Conduct of Ajax, that passionate Men betray themselves into Follies, and are themselves guilty of the Faults of which they accuse others.
It is with a particular Decency that Homer makes Achilles the Arbitrator between Idomeneus and Ajax: Agamemnon was his Superior in the Army, but as Achilles exhibited the Shows he was the proper Judge of any Difference that should arise about them; had the Contest been between Ajax and Idomeneus, consider’d as Soldiers, the Cause must have been brought before Agamemnon; but as they are to be consider’d as Spectators of the Games, they ought to be determin’d by Achilles. It may not be unnecessary just to observe to the Reader the Judiciousness of Homer’s Conduct in making Achilles exhibit the Games, and not Agamemnon: Achilles is the Hero of the Poem, and consequently must be the chief Actor in all the great Scenes of it: He had remain’d inactive during a great Part of the Poem, yet the Poet makes his very Inactivity contribute to the carrying on the Design of his Ilias: And to supply his Absence from many of the busy Scenes of the preceding Parts of it, he now in the Conclusion makes him almost the sole Agent: By these means he leaves a noble Idea of his Hero upon the Mind of his Reader, and as he rais’d our Expectations when he brought him upon the Stage of Action, so he makes him go off with the utmost Pomp and Applause.
Note XXVII.
VERSE 580. High o’er his Head the circling Lash he wields. ]
I am persuaded that the common Translation of the Word [Greek], in the Original of this Verse, is faulty: It is render’d, he lash’d the Horses continually over the Shoulders; whereas I fancy it should be translated thus, assiduè (Equos) agitabat scuticâ ab humero ductâ. This naturally expresses the very Action, and whirl of the Whip over the Driver’s Shoulder, in the Act of lashing the Horses, and agrees with the Use of the same Word in the 431 st Line of this Book, where [Greek]must be translated Jactus Disci ab humero vibrati.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 613. Fortune denies, but Justice, &c.]
Achilles here intends to shew, that it is not just Fortune should rule over Virtue, but that a brave Man who had perform’d his Duty, and who did not bring upon himself his Misfortune, ought to have the Recompence he has deserv’d: And this Principle is just, provided we do not reward him at the Expence of another’s Right: Eumelus is a Thessalian, and it is probable Achilles has a Partiality to his Countryman. Dacier.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 632. But this, my Prize, I never shall forego—
There is an Air of Bravery in this Discourse of Antilochus: He speaks with the Generosity of a gallant Soldier, and prefers his Honour to his Interest; he tells Achilles if he pleases he may make Eumelus a richer Present than his Prize; he is not concern’d for the Value of it, but as it was the Reward of Victory, he would not resign it, because that would be an Acknowledgment that Eumelus deserv’d it.
The Character of Antilochus is admirably sustain’d thro’ this whole Episode; he is a very sensible Man, but transported with youthful Heat, and ambitious of Glory: His Rashness in driving so furiously against Menelaus must be imputed to this; but his Passions being gratify’d by the Conquest in the Race, his Reason again returns, he owns his Error, and is full of Resignation to Menelaus.
Note XXX.
VERSE 662. And touch the Steeds, and swear— ]
’Tis evident, says Eustathius, from hence, that all Fraud was forbid in the Chariot-Race; but it is not very plain what unlawful Deceit Antilochus used against Menelaus; perhaps Antilochus in his Haste had declin’d from the Race-Ground, and avoided some of the uneven Places of it, and consequently took an unfair Advantage of his Adversary; or perhaps his driving so furiously against Menelaus as to endanger both their Chariots and their Lives, might be reckon’d foul play; and therefore Antilochus refuses to take the Oath.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 678. Joy swells his Soul, as when the vernal Grain, &c.]
Eustathius is very large in the Explication of this Similitude, which at the first view seems obscure: His Words are these As the Dew raises the Blades of Corn, that are for want of it weak and depressed, and by pervading the Pores of the Corn animates and makes it flourish, so did the Behaviour of Antilochus raise the dejected Mind of Menelaus, exalt his Spirits, and restore him to a full Satisfaction.
I have given the Reader his Interpretation, and translated it with the Liberty of Poetry: It is very much in the Language of Scripture, and in the Spirit of the Orientals.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 706. Accept thou this, O sacred Sire! ]
The Poet in my Opinion preserves a great deal of Decency towards this old Hero, and venerable Counsellour: He gives him an honorary Reward for his superior Wisdom, and therefore Achilles calls it [Greek], and not [Greek], a Prize, and not a Present. The Moral of Homer is, that Princes ought no less to honour and recompense those who excel in Wisdom and Counsel, than those who are capable of actual Service.
Achilles, perhaps, had a double view in paying him this Respect, not only out of Deference to his Age, and Wisdom, but also because he had, in a manner, won the Prize by the Advice he gave his Son: So that Nestor may be said to have conquer’d in the Person of Antilochus. Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 718. Nestor ’s Speech to Achilles.]
This Speech is admirably well adapted to the Character of Nestor: He aggrandizes, with an Infirmity peculiar to Age, his own Exploits; and one would think Horace had him in his Eye,
—Laudatur temporis acti Se puero—
Neither is it any Blemish to the Character of Nestor thus to be a little talkative about his own Atchievements: To have describ’d him otherwise would have been an Outrage to human Nature, in as much as the wisest Man living is not free from the Infirmities of Man: and as every Stage of Life has some Imperfection peculiar to it self.
— [Greek]— [Greek]
The Reader may observe that the old Man takes abundance of pains to give Reasons how his Rivals came to be Victors in the Chariot-Race: He is very solicitous to make it appear that it was not thro’ any want of Skill or Power in himself: And in my Opinion Nestor is never more vainglorious than in this recital of his own Disappointment.
It is for the same reason he repeats the Words I have cited above: He obtrudes (by that Repetition) the Disadvantages under which he labour’d, upon the Observation of the Reader, for fear he should impute the Loss of the Victory to his want of Skill.
Nestor says that these Moliones overpower’d him by their Number. The Criticks, as Eustathius remarks, have labour’d hard to explain this Difficulty; they tell us a formal Story, that when Nestor was ready to enter the Lists against these Brothers, he objected against them as unfair Adversaries, (for it must be remember’d that they were Monsters that grew together, and consequently had four Hands to Nestor’s two) but the Judges would not allow his plea, but determin’d, that as they grew together so they ought to be consider’d as one Man.
Others tell us, that they brought several Chariots into the Lists, whose Charioteers combin’d together in favour of Eurytus and Cteatus, these brother-Monsters.
Others say, that the Multitude of the Spectators conspir’d to disappoint Nestor. I thought it necessary to give my Reader these several Conjectures; that he might understand why Nestor says he was overpower’d by [Greek], or Numbers; and also, because it confirms my former Observation, that Nestor is very careful to draw his own Picture in the strongest Colours, and to shew it in the fairest Light.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 820. A female Captive valu’d but at four. ]
I cannot in Civility neglect a Remark made upon this Passage by Madam Dacier, who highly resents the Affront put upon her Sex by the Ancients, who set (it seems) thrice the Value upon a Tripod as upon a beautiful female Slave: Nay, she is afraid the Value of Women is not rais’d even in our Days; for she says there are curious Persons now living who had rather have a true antique Kettle, than the finest Woman alive: I confess I entirely agree with the Lady, and must impute such Opinions of the fair Sex to want of Taste in both Ancients and Moderns: The Reader may remember that these Tripods were of no use, but made entirely for Show, and consequently the most satyrical Critick could only say, the Woman and Tripod ought to have born an equal Value.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 827. Like two strong Rafters, &c.]
I will give the Reader the Words of Eustathius upon this Similitude, which very happily represents the Wrestlers in the Posture of Wrestling. Their Heads lean’d one against the other, like the Rafters that support the Roof of a House; at the Foot they are disjoin’d, and stand at a greater Distance, which naturally paints the Attitude of Body in these two Wrestlers, while they contend for Victory.
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 850. He barely stirr’d him, but he could not raise. ]
The Poet by this Circumstance excellently maintains the Character of Ajax, who has all along been describ’d as a strong, unweildy Warrior: He is so heavy that Ulysses can scarce lift him. The Words that follow will bear a different Meaning, either that Ajax lock’d his Leg within that of Ulysses, or that Ulysses did it. Eustathius observes, that if Ajax gave Ulysses this Shock, then he may be allow’d to have some appearance of an Equality in the Contest, but if Ulysses gave it, then Ajax must be acknowledg’d to have been foil’d: But (continues he) it appear’d to be otherwise to Achilles, who was the Judge of the Field, and therefore he gives them an equal Prize, because they were equal in the Contest.
Madam Dacier misrepresents Eustathius on this Place, in saying he thinks it was Ulysses who gave this second Stroke to Ajax, whereas it appears by the foregoing Note that he rather determines otherwise in consent with the Judgment given by Achilles.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 902. Assist O Goddess! (thus in Thought he pray’d) ]
Nothing could be better adapted to the present Circumstance of Ulysses than this Prayer: It is short, and ought to be so, because the Time would not allow him to make a longer; nay he prefers this Petition mentally, [Greek]; all his Faculties are so bent upon the Race, that he does not call off his Attention from it, even to speak so short a Petition as seven Words, which comprehend the whole of it: Such Passages as these are Instances of great Judgment in the Poet.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 926. And takes it with a Jest. ]
Antilochus comes off very well, and wittily prevents Raillery; by attributing the Victory of his Rivals to the Protection which the Gods gave to Age. By this he insinuates, that he has something to comfort himself with; (for Youth is better than the Prize) and that he may pretend hereafter to the same Protection, since ’tis a Privilege of Seniority. Dacier.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 935. For who can match Achilles?]
There is great Art in these transient Complements to Achilles: That Hero could not possibly shew his own Superiority in these Games by contending for any of the Prizes, because he was the Exhibiter of the Sports: But Homer has found out a way to give him the Victory in two of them. In the Chariot-Race Achilles is represented as being able to conquer every Opponent, and tho’ he speaks it himself, the Poet brings it in so happily, that he speaks it without any Indecency: And in this place Antilochus with a very good grace tells Achilles, that in the Foot-Race no one can dispute the Prize with him. Thus tho’ Diomed and Ulysses conquer in the Chariot and Foot-Race, it is only because Achilles is not their Antagonist.
Note XL.
VERSE 951. Who first the jointed Armour shall explore. ]
Some of the Ancients have been shock’d at this Combat, thinking it a Barbarity that Men in Sport should thus contend for their Lives; and therefore Aristophanes the Grammarian made this Alteration in the Verses.
[Greek], &c.
But it is evident that they entirely mistook the Meaning and Intention of Achilles; for he that gave the first Wound was to be accounted the Victor. How could Achilles promise to entertain them both in his Tent after the Combat, if he intended that one of them should fall in it? This Duel therefore was only a Tryal of Skill, and as such single Combats were frequent in the Wars of those Ages against Adversaries, so this was proposed only to shew the Dexterity of the Combatants in that Exercise. Eustathius.
Note XLI.
VERSE 973. Yet still the Victor’s Due Tydides gains. ]
Achilles In this place acts the part of a very just Arbitrator: Tho’ the Combat did not proceed to a full issue, yet Diomed had evidently the Advantage, and consequently ought to be rewarded as Victor, because he would have been victorious, had not the Greeks interpos’d.
I could have wish’d that the Poet had given Ajax the Prize in some of these Contests. He undoubtedly was a very gallant Soldier, and has been describ’d as repulsing a whole Army; yet in all these Sports he is foil’d. But perhaps the Poet had a double View in this Representation, not only to shew, that Strength without Conduct is usually unsuccessful, but also his Design might be to complement the Greeks his Countreymen; by shewing that this Ajax, who had repell’d a whole Army of Trojans was not able to conquer any one of the Grecian Worthies: For we find him overpower’d in three of these Exercises.
Note XLII.
VERSE 987. If he be one, enrich’d, &c.]
The Poet in this place speaks in the Simplicity of ancient Times: The prodigious Weight and Size of the Quoit is describ’d with a noble Plainness, peculiar to the oriental way, and agreeable to the Manners of those heroick Ages. He does not set down the Quantity of this enormous piece of Iron, neither as to its Bigness nor Weight, but as to the Use it will be of to him who shall gain it. We see from hence, that the Ancients in the Prizes they propos’d, had in view not only the Honourable, but the Useful; a Captive for Work, a Bull for Tillage, a Quoit for the Provision of Iron. Besides it must be remember’d, that in those Times Iron was very scarce; and a sure sign of this Scarcity, is, that their Arms were Brass. Eustath. Dacier.
Note XLIII.
VERSE 1032. He takes the Bow. ]
There having been many Editions of Homer, that of Marseilles represents these two Rivals in Archery as using two Bows in the Contest; and reads the Verses thus,
[Greek]
Our common Editions follow the better Alteration of Antimachus, with this only Difference, that he reads it
[Greek]
And they,
[Greek]
It is evident that these Archers had but one Bow, as they that threw the Quoit had but one Quoit; by these means the one had no Advantage over the other, because both of them shot with the same Bow. So that the common Reading is undoubtedly the best, where the Lines stand thus,
[Greek]Eustath.
This Teucer is the most eminent Man for Archery of any thro’ the whole Iliad, yet he is here excell’d by Meriones: And the Poet ascribes his Miscarriage to the neglect of invoking Apollo, the God of Archery; whereas Meriones, who invokes him, is crown’d with Success. There is an excellent Moral in this Passage, and the Poet would teach us, that without addressing to Heaven we cannot succeed: Meriones does not conquer because he is the better Archer, but because he is the better Man.
Note XLIV.
VERSE 1053. Nor here disdain’d the King of Men to rise. ]
There is an admirable Conduct in this Passage; Agamemnon never contended for any of the former Prizes, tho’ of much greater Value; so that he is a Candidate for this, only to honour Patroclus and Achilles. The decency which the Poet uses both in the choice of the Game, in which Agamemnon is about to contend, and the giving him the Prize without a Contest, is very remarkable: The Game was a warlike Exercise, fit for the General of an Army; the giving him the Prize without a Contest is a Decency judiciously observed, because no one ought to be suppos’d to excel the General in any military Art: Agamemnon does Justice to his own Character, for whereas he had been represented by Achilles in the opening of the Poem as a covetous Person, he now puts in for the Prize that is of the least Value, and generously gives even that to Talthybius. Eustathius. As to this last Particular, of Agamemnon’s presenting the Charger to Talthybius, I can’t but be of a different Opinion. It had been an Affront to Achilles not to have accepted of his Present on this Occasion, and I believe the Words of Homer,
[Greek]
mean no more, than that he put it into the Hands of this Herald to carry it to his Ships; Talthybius being by his Office an Attendant upon Agamemnon.
Note XLV.
It will be expected I should here say something tending to a Comparison between the Games of Homer and those of Virgil. If I may own my private Opinion, there is in general more Variety of natural Incidents, and a more lively Picture of natural Passions, in the Games and Persons of Homer. On the other hand, there seems to me more Art, Contrivance, Gradation, and a greater Pomp of Verse in those of Virgil. The Chariot-Race is that which Homer has most labour’d, of which Virgil being sensible, he judiciously avoided the Imitation of what he could not improve, and substituted in its place the Naval-Course, or Ship-Race. It is in this the Roman Poet has employ’d all his Force, as if on set purpose to rival his great Master; but it is extremely observable how constantly he keeps Homer in his Eye, and is afraid to depart from his very Track, even when he had vary’d the Subject itself. Accordingly the Accidents of the Naval-Course have a strange Resemblance with those of Homer’s Chariot-Race. He could not forbear at the very Beginning to draw a part of that Description into a Simile. Do not we see he has Homer’s Chariots in his Head, by these Lines
Non tam praecipites bijugó certamine campum Corripuere, ruuntque effusi carcere currus. Nec sic immissis aurigae undantia lora Concussere jugis, pronique in verbera pendent. Aen. v. ℣. 144.
What is the Encounter of Cloanthus and Gyas in the Strait between the Rocks, but the same with that of Menelaus and Antilochus in the hollow Way? Had the Galley of Sergestus been broken, if the Chariot of Eumelus had not been demolish’d? Or Mnestheus been cast from the Helm, had not the other been thrown from his Seat? Does not Mnestheus exhort his Rowers in the very Words Antilochus had us’d to his Horses?
Non jamprima peto Mnestheus, neque vincere cesto Quamquam O! sed superent quibus hoc Neptune dedisti; Extremos pudeat rediisse! hoc vincite, cives, Etprohibete nefas—
[Greek]— [Greek]—
Upon the whole, the Description of the Sea-Race I think has the more Poetry and Majesty, that of the Chariots more Nature, and lively Incidents. There is nothing in Virgil so picturesque, so animated, or which so much marks the Characters, as the Episodes of Antilochus and Menelaus, Ajax and Idomeneus, with that beautiful Interposition of old Nestor, (so naturally introduc’d into an Affair where one so little expects him.) On the other side, in Virgil the Description itself is much nobler; it has something more ostentatiously grand, and seems a Spectacle more worthy the Presence of Princes and great Persons.
In three other Games we find the Roman Poet contending openly with the Grecian. That of the Caestus is in great part a verbal Translation: But it must be own’d in favour of Virgil, that he has vary’d from Homer in the Event of the Combate with admirable Judgment and with an Improvement of the Moral. Epaeus and Dares are describ’d by both Poets as vain Boasters; but Virgil with more poetical Justice punishes Dares for his Arrogance, whereas the Presumption and Pride of Epaeus is rewarded by Homer. On the contrary, in the Foot-Race, I am of opinion that Homer has shewn more Judgment and Morality than Virgil. Nisus in the latter is unjust to his Adversary in favour of his Friend Euryalus; so that Euryalus wins the Race by palpable Fraud, and yet the Poet gives him the first Prize; whereas Homer makes Ulysses victorious, purely thro’ the Mischance of Ajax, and his own Piety in invoking Minerva. The shooting is also a direct Copy, but with the Addition of two Circumstances which make a beautiful Gradation. In Homer the first Archer cuts the String that held the Bird, and the other shoots him as he is mounting. In Virgil the first only hits the Mast which the Bird was fix’d upon, the second cuts the String, the third shoots him, and the fourth to vaunt the Strength of his Arm directs his Arrow up to Heaven, where it kindles into a Flame, and makes a Prodigy. This last is certainly superior to Homer in what they call the Wonderful: but what is the Intent or Effect of this Prodigy, or whether a Reader is not at least as much surprized at it, as at the most unreasonable Parts in Homer, I leave to those Criticks who are more inclin’d to find Faults than I am: Nor shall I observe upon the many literal Imitations in the Roman Poet, to object against which were to derogate from the Merit of those fine Passages, which Virgil was so very sensible of, that he was resolv’d to take them, at any rate, to himself.
There remain in Homer three Games untouch’d by Virgil; the Wrestling, the single Combate, and the Discus. In Virgil there is only the Lusus Trojae added, which is purely his own, and must be confest to be inimitable: I don’t know whether I may be allow’d to say, it is worth all those three of Homer? I could not forgive my self if I omitted to mention in this place the Funeral Games in the sixth Thebaïd of Statius; it is by much the most beautiful Book of that Poem. It’s very remarkable, that he has follow’d Homer thro’ the whole Course of his Games: There is the Chariot-Race, the Foot-Race, the Discus, the Caestus, the Wrestling, the single Combate (which is put off in the same manner as in Homer ) and the Shooting; which last ends (as in Virgil ) with a Prodigy: Yet in the particular Descriptions of each of these Games this Poet has not borrow’d from either of his Predecessors, and his Poem is so much the worse for it.
Book XXIV THE TWENTY-FOURTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD.
The Argument
THE Gods deliberate about the Redemption of Hector. Jupiter sends Thetis to Achilles to dispose him for the restoring it, and Iris to Priam, to encourage him to go in Person, and treat for it. The old King, notwithstanding the Remonstrances of his Queen, makes ready for the Journey, to which he is encourag’d by an Omen from Jupiter. He sets forth in his Chariot, with a Waggon loaded with Presents under the Charge of Idaeus the Herald. Mercury descends in the Shape of a young Man, and conducts him to the Pavilion of Achilles. Their Conversation on the way. Priam finds Achilles at his Table, casts himself at his Feet, and begs for the Body of his Son; Achilles, mov’d with Compassion, grants his Request, detains him one Night in his Tent, and the next Morning sends him home with the Body: The Trojans run out to meet him. The Lamentations of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen, with the Solemnities of the Funeral. The Time of twelve Days is employ’d in this Book, while the Body of Hector lies in the Tent of Achilles. And as many more are spent in the Truce allow’d for his Interment. The Scene is partly in Achilles’s Camp, and partly in Troy.
Index to The Argument
- [1-33] Achilles's Unceasing Grief
- [34-83] The Gods' Debate over Hector's Body
- [84-98] Jupiter Decrees the Ransom
- [99-176] Thetis Delivers Jupiter's Command to Achilles
- [177-224] Iris's Mission to King Priam
- [225-280] Priam Prepares the Ransom Amidst Hecuba's Fears
- [281-396] Priam's Prayer and Jupiter's Omen
- [397-464] Mercury Appears as a Guide
- [465-577] Mercury Leads Priam Through the Camp
- [578-633] Priam's Supplication at Achilles's Feet
- [634-646] Achilles and Priam Weep Together
- [647-695] Achilles's Speech on Fate and the Two Urns
- [696-745] The Ransom is Accepted and Hector's Body Prepared
- [746-845] A Shared Meal and a Truce for the Funeral
- [846-895] The Return to Troy and the City's Grief
- [896-984] The Laments of Andromache, Hecuba, and Helen
- [985-1016] The Funeral of Hector
NOW from the finish’d Games the Grecian Band
Sought their black Ships, and clear’d the crowded Strand;
All stretch’d at ease the genial Banquet share,
And pleasing Slumbers quiet all their Care.
Not so Achilles: He, to Grief resign’d,
His Friend’s dear Image present to his Mind,
Takes his sad Couch, more unobserv’d to weep,
Nor tastes the Gifts of all-composing Sleep.
Restless he roll’d around his weary Bed,
And all his Soul on his Patroclus fed:
The Form so pleasing, and the Heart so kind,
That youthful Vigour, and that manly Mind,
What Toils they shar’d, what martial Works they wrought,
What Seas they measur’d, and what Fields they fought;
All past before him in Remembrance dear,
Thought follows Thought, and Tear succeeds to Tear.
And now supine, now prone, the Hero lay,
Now shifts his Side, impatient for the Day:
Then starting up, disconsolate he goes
Wide on the lonely Beach to vent his Woes.
There as the solitary Mourner raves,
The ruddy Morning rises o’er the Waves;
Soon as it rose, his furious Steeds he join’d;
The Chariot flies, and Hector trails behind.
And thrice Patroclus! round thy Monument
Was Hector dragg’d, then hurry’d to the Tent.
There Sleep at last o’ercomes the Hero’s Eyes;
While foul in Dust th’unhonour’d Carcase lies,
But not deserted by the pitying Skies.
For Phoebus watch’d it with superior Care,
Preserv’d from gaping Wounds, and tainting Air;
And ignominious as it swept the Field,
Spread o’er the sacred Corse his golden Shield.
All Heav’n was mov’d, and Hermes will’d to go
By Stealth to snatch him from th’insulting Foe:
But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies,
And th’unrelenting Empress of the Skies:
E’er since that Day implacable to Troy,
What time young Paris, simple Shepherd Boy,
Won by destructive Lust (Reward obscene)
Their Charms rejected for the Cyprian Queen.
But when the tenth coelestial Morning broke;
To Heav’n assembled, thus Apollo spoke.
Unpitying Pow’rs! how oft each holy Fane
Has Hector ting’d with Blood of Victims slain?
And can ye still his cold Remains pursue?
Still grudge his Body to the Trojans View?
Deny to Consort, Mother, Son, and Sire,
The last sad Honours of the fun’ral Fire?
Is then the dire Achilles all your Care?
50That Iron Heart, inflexibly severe;
A Lion, not a Man, who slaughters wide
In Strength of Rage and Impotence of Pride,
Who hastes to murder with a savage Joy,
Invades around, and breathes but to destroy.
Shame is not of his Soul; nor understood,
The greatest Evil and the greatest Good
Still for one Loss he rages unresign’d,
Repugnant to the Lot of all Mankind;
To lose a Friend, a Brother, or a Son,
Heav’n dooms each Mortal, and its Will is done:
A while they sorrow, then dismiss their Care;
Fate gives the Wound, and Man is born to bear.
But this Insatiate the Commission giv’n
By Fate, exceeds; and tempts the Wrath of Heav’n:
Lo how his Rage dishonest drags along
Hector’s dead Earth insensible of Wrong!
Brave tho’ he be, yet by no Reason aw’d,
He violates the Laws of Man and God.
If equal Honours by the partial Skies
Are doom’d both Heroes, ( Juno thus replies)
If Thetis’ Son must no Distinction know,
Then hear, ye Gods! the Patron of the Bow.
But Hector only boasts a mortal Claim,
His Birth deriving from a mortal Dame:
Achilles of your own Aetherial Race
Springs from a Goddess, by a Man’s Embrace;
(A Goddess by our self to Peleus giv’n,
A Man divine, and chosen Friend of Heav’n.)
To grace those Nuptials, from the bright Abode
Your selves were present; where this Minstrel-God
(Well-pleas’d to share the Feast,) amid the Quire
Stood proud to Hymn, and tune his youthful Lyre.
Then thus the Thund’rer checks th’imperial Dame:
Let not thy Wrath the Court of Heav’n inflame;
Their Merits, nor their Honours, are the same.
But mine, and ev’ry God’s peculiar Grace
Hector deserves, of all the Trojan Race:
Still on our Shrines his grateful Off’rings lay,
(The only Honours Men to Gods can pay)
Nor ever from our smoking Altar ceast
The pure Libation, and the holy Feast.
Howe’er by Stealth to snatch the Corse away,
We will not: Thetis guards it Night and Day.
But haste, and summon to our Courts above
The Azure Queen; let her Persuasion move
Her furious Son from Priam to receive
The proffer’d Ransom, and the Corps to leave.
He added not: And Iris from the Skies
Swift as a Whirlwind, on the Message flies,
100Meteorous the Face of Ocean sweeps,
Refulgent gliding o’er the sable Deeps.
Between where Samos wide his Forests spreads,
And rocky Imbrus lifts its pointed Heads,
Down plung’d the Maid; (the parted Waves resound)
She plung’d, and instant shot the dark Profound.
As bearing Death in the fallacious Bait
From the bent Angle sinks the loaden Weight;
So past the Goddess thro’ the closing Wave,
Where Thetis sorrow’d in her secret Cave:
There plac’d amidst her melancholy Train
(The blue-hair’d Sisters of the sacred Main)
Pensive she sate, revolving Fates to come,
And wept her god-like Son’s approaching Doom:
Then thus the Goddess of the painted Bow.
Arise! O Thetis, from thy Seats below.
’Tis Jove that calls. And why (the Dame replies)
Calls Jove his Thetis to the hated Skies?
Sad Object as I am for heav’nly Sight!
Ah! may my Sorrows ever shun the Light!
Howe’er be Heav’ns almighty Sire obey’d—
She spake, and veil’d her Head in sable Shade,
Which, flowing long, her graceful Person clad;
And forth she pac’d, majestically sad.
Then thro’ the World of Waters, they repair
(The Way fair Iris led) to upper Air.
The Deeps dividing, o’er the Coast they rise,
And touch with momentary Flight the Skies.
There in the Light’nings Blaze the Sire they found,
And all the Gods in shining Synod round.
Thetis approach’d with Anguish in her Face,
( Minerva rising, gave the Mourner place)
Ev’n Juno sought her Sorrows to console,
And offer’d from her Hand the Nectar Bowl:
She tasted, and resign’d it: Then began
The sacred Sire of Gods and mortal Man:
Thou com’st fair Thetis, but with Grief o’ercast,
Maternal Sorrows, long, ah long to last!
Suffice, we know and we partake thy Cares:
But yield to Fate, and hear what Jove declares.
Nine Days are past, since all the Court above
In Hector’s Cause have mov’d the Ear of Jove;
’Twas voted, Hermes from his god-like Foe
By Stealth should bear him, but we will’d not so:
We will, thy Son himself the Corse restore,
And to his Conquest add this Glory more.
Then hye thee to him, and our Mandate bear;
Tell him he tempts the Wrath of Heav’n too far:
Nor let him more (our Anger if he dread)
Vent his mad Vengeance on the sacred Dead:
150But yield to Ransom and the Father’s Pray’r.
The mournful Father Iris shall prepare,
With Gifts to sue; and offer to his Hands
Whate’er his Honour asks, or Heart demands.
His Word the silver-footed Queen attends,
And from Olympus’ snowy Tops descends.
Arriv’d, she heard the Voice of loud Lament,
And echoing Groans that shook the lofty Tent.
His Friends prepare the Victim, and dispose
Repast unheeded, while he vents his Woes.
The Goddess seats her by her pensive Son,
She prest his Hand, and tender thus begun.
How long, unhappy! shall thy Sorrows flow,
And thy Heart waste with life-consuming Woe?
Mindless of Food, or Love whose pleasing Reign
Sooths weary Life, and softens human Pain.
O snatch the Moments yet within thy Pow’r,
Nor long to live, indulge the am’rous Hour!
Lo! Jove himself (for Jove’s Command I bear)
Forbids to tempt the Wrath of Heav’n too far,
No longer then (his Fury if thou dread)
Detain the Relicks of great Hector dead;
Nor vent on senseless Earth thy Vengeance vain,
But yield to Ransom, and restore the Slain.
To whom Achilles: Be the Ransom giv’n,
And we submit, since such the Will of Heav’n.
While thus they commun’d, from th’ Olympian Bow’rs
Jove orders Iris to the Trojan Tow’rs.
Haste, winged Goddess! to the sacred Town,
And urge her Monarch to redeem his Son;
Alone, the Ilian Ramparts let him leave,
And bear what stern Achilles may receive:
Alone, for so we will: No Trojan near;
Except, to place the Dead with decent Care,
Some aged Herald, who with gentle Hand,
May the slow Mules and fun’ral Car command.
Nor let him Death, nor let him Danger dread,
Safe thro’ the Foe by our Protection led:
Him Hermes to Achilles shall convey,
Guard of his Life, and Partner of his Way.
Fierce as he is, Achilles self shall spare
His Age, nor touch one venerable Hair,
Some Thought there must be, in a Soul so brave,
Some Sense of Duty, some Desire to save.
Then down her Bow the winged Iris drives,
And swift at Priam’s mournful Court arrives;
Where the sad Sons beside their Father’s Throne
Sate bath’d in Tears, and answer’d Groan with Groan.
And all amidst them lay the hoary Sire,
(Sad Scene of Woe!) His Face his wrapt Attire
200Conceal’d from Sight; With frantick Hands he spread
A Show’r of Ashes o’er his Neck and Head.
From Room to Room his pensive Daughters roam;
Whose Shrieks and Clamours fill the vaulted Dome;
Mindful of those, who, late their Pride and Joy,
Lye pale and breathless round the Fields of Troy!
Before the King Jove’s Messenger appears,
And thus in Whispers greets his trembling Ears.
Fear not, oh Father! no ill News I bear;
From Jove I come, Jove makes thee still his Care:
For Hector’s sake these Walls he bids thee leave,
And bear what stern Achilles may receive:
Alone, for so he wills: No Trojan near,
Except to place the Dead with decent Care,
Some aged Herald, who with gentle Hand
May the slow Mules and fun’ral Car command.
Nor shalt thou Death, nor shalt thou Danger dread;
Safe thro’ the Foe by his Protection led:
Thee Hermes to Pelides shall convey,
Guard of thy Life, and Partner of thy Way.
Fierce as he is, Achilles’ self shall spare
Thy Age, nor touch one venerable Hair,
Some Thought there must be, in a Soul so brave,
Some Sense of Duty, some Desire to save.
She spoke, and vanish’d. Priam bids prepare
His gentle Mules, and harness to the Car,
There, for the Gifts, a polish’d Casket lay:
His pious Sons the King’s Command obey.
Then past the Monarch to his Bridal-Room,
Where Cedar-Beams the lofty Roofs perfume,
And where the Treasures of his Empire lay;
Then call’d his Queen, and thus began to say.
Unhappy Consort of a King distrest!
Partake the Troubles of thy Husband’s Breast:
I saw descend the Messenger of Jove,
Who bids me try Achilles’ Mind to move,
Forsake these Ramparts, and with Gifts obtain
The Corps of Hector, at yon’ Navy slain.
Tell me thy Thought: My Heart impells to go
Thro’ hostile Camps, and bears me to the Foe.
The hoary Monarch thus. Her piercing Cries
Sad Hecuba renews, and then replies.
Ah! whither wanders thy distemper’d Mind,
And where the Prudence now that aw’d Mankind,
Thro’ Phrygia once, and foreign Regions known,
Now all confus’d, distracted, overthrown!
Singly to pass thro’ Hosts of Foes! to face
(Oh Heart of Steel!) the Murd’rer of thy Race!
To view that deathful Eye, and wander o’er
Those Hands, yet red with Hector’s noble Gore!
250Alas! my Lord! he knows not how to spare,
And what his Mercy, thy slain Sons declare;
So brave! so many fall’n! To calm his Rage
Vain were thy Dignity, and vain thy Age.
No—pent in this sad Palace let us give
To Grief the wretched Days we have to live.
Still, still for Hector let our Sorrows flow,
Born to his own, and to his Parents Woe!
Doom’d from the Hour his luckless Life begun,
To Dogs, to Vultures, and to Peleus’ Son!
Oh! in his dearest Blood might I allay
My Rage, and these Barbarities repay!
For ah! could Hector merit thus? whose Breath
Expir’d not meanly, in unactive Death:
He pour’d his latest Blood in manly Fight,
And fell a Hero in his Country’s Right.
Seek not to stay me, nor my Soul affright
With Words of Omen like a Bird of Night.
(Reply’d unmov’d the venerable Man)
’Tis Heav’n commands me, and you urge in vain.
Had any mortal Voice th’ Injunction laid,
Nor Augur, Priest, or Seer had been obey’d.
A present Goddess brought the high Command,
I saw, I heard her, and the Word shall stand.
I go, ye Gods! obedient to your Call:
If in yon’ Camp your Pow’rs have doom’d my Fall,
Content—By the same Hand let me expire!
Add to the slaughter’d Son the wretched Sire!
One cold Embrace at least may be allow’d,
And my last Tears flow mingled with his Blood!
From forth his open’d Stores, this said, he drew
Twelve costly Carpets of refulgent Hue,
As many Vests, as many Mantles told,
And twelve fair Veils, and Garments stiff with Gold.
Two Tripods next and twice two Chargers shine,
With ten pure Talents from the richest Mine;
And last a large well-labour’d Bowl had place,
(The Pledge of Treaties once with friendly Thrace )
Seem’d all too mean the Stores he could employ,
For one last Look to buy him back to Troy!
Lo! the sad Father, frantick with his Pain,
Around him furious drives his menial Train:
In vain each Slave with duteous Care attends,
Each Office hurts him, and each Face offends.
What make ye here? Officious Crowds? (he cries)
Hence! Nor obtrude your Anguish on my Eyes.
Have ye no Griefs at Home, to fix ye there?
Am I the only Object of Despair?
Am I become my People’s common Show,
Set up by Jove your Spectacle of Woe?
300No, you must feel him too; your selves must fall;
The same stern God to Ruin gives you all.
Nor is great Hector lost by me alone;
Your sole Defence, your guardian Pow’r is gone!
I see your Blood the Fields of Phrygia drown,
I see the Ruins of your smoking Town!
Oh send me, Gods! e’er that sad Day shall come,
A willing Ghost to Pluto’s dreary Dome!
He said, and feebly drives his Friends away;
The sorrowing Friends his frantick Rage obey.
Next on his Sons his erring Fury falls,
Polites, Paris, Agathon, he calls,
His Threats Deïphobus and Dius hear,
Hippothous, Pammon, Helenus the Seer,
And gen’rous Antiphon: For yet these nine
Surviv’d, sad Relicks of his num’rous Line.
Inglorious Sons of an unhappy Sire!
Why did not all in Hector’s Cause expire?
Wretch that I am! my bravest Offspring slain,
You, the Disgrace of Priam’s House, remain!
Mestor the brave, renown’d in Ranks of War,
With Troilus, dreadful on his rushing Car,
And last great Hector, more than Man divine,
For sure he seem’d not of terrestial Line!
All those relentless Mars untimely slew,
And left me these, a soft and servile Crew,
Whose Days the Feast and wanton Dance employ,
Gluttons and Flatt’rers, the Contempt of Troy!
Why teach ye not my rapid Wheels to run,
And speed my Journey to redeem my Son?
The Sons their Father’s wretched Age revere,
Forgive his Anger, and produce the Car.
High on the Seat the Cabinet they bind:
The new-made Car with solid Beauty shin’d;
Box was the Yoke, embost with costly Pains,
And hung with Ringlets to receive the Reins;
Nine Cubits long the Traces swept the Ground;
These to the Chariots polish’d Pole they bound,
Then fix’d a Ring the running Reins to guide,
And close beneath the gather’d Ends were ty’d.
Next with the Gifts (the Price of Hector slain)
The sad Attendants load the groaning Wain:
Last to the Yoke the well-match’d Mules they bring,
(The Gift of Mysia to the Trojan King.)
But the fair Horses, long his darling Care,
Himself receiv’d and harness’d to his Car:
Griev’d as he was, he not this Task deny’d;
The hoary Herald help’d him at his Side.
While careful these the gentle Coursers join’d,
Sad Hecuba approach’d with anxious Mind;
350A golden Bowl that foam’d with fragrant Wine,
(Libation destin’d to the Pow’r divine)
Held in her right, before the Steeds she stands,
And thus consigns it to the Monarch’s Hands.
Take this, and pour to Jove: that safe from Harms,
His Grace restore thee to our Roof, and Arms;
Since Victor of thy Fears, and slighting mine,
Heav’n, or thy Soul, inspire this bold Design:
Pray to that God, who high on Ida’s Brow
Surveys thy desolated Realms below,
His winged Messenger to send from high,
And lead thy way with heav’nly Augury:
Let the strong Sov’reign of the plumy Race
Tow’r on the right of yon’ aethereal Space.
That Sign beheld, and strengthen’d from above,
Boldly pursue the Journey mark’d by Jove;
But if the God his Augury denies,
Suppress thy Impulse, nor reject Advice.
’Tis just (said Priam ) to the Sire above
To raise our Hands, for who so good as Jove?
He spoke, and bad th’attendant Handmaid bring
The purest Water of the living Spring;
(Her ready Hands the Ew’er and Bason held)
Then took the golden Cup his Queen had fill’d,
On the mid Pavement pours the rosy Wine,
Uplifts his Eyes, and calls the Pow’r divine.
Oh First, and Greatest! Heav’ns Imperial Lord!
On lofty Ida’s holy Hill ador’d!
To stern Achilles now direct my ways,
And teach him Mercy when a Father prays.
If such thy Will, dispatch from yonder Sky
Thy sacred Bird, coelestial Augury!
Let the strong Sov’reign of the plumy Race
Tow’r on the right of you’ aethereal Space.
So shall thy Suppliant, strengthen’d from above,
Fearless pursue the Journey mark’d by Jove.
Jove heard his Pray’r, and from the Throne on high
Dispatch’d his Bird, coelestial Augury!
The swift-wing’d Chaser of the feather’d Game,
And known to Gods by Percnos’ lofty Name.
Wide as appears some Palace Gate display’d,
So broad, his Pinions stretch their ample Shade,
As stooping dexter with resounding Wings
Th’imperial Bird descends in airy Rings.
A Dawn of Joy in ev’ry Face appears;
The mourning Matron dries her tim’rous Tears.
Swift on his Car th’impatient Monarch sprung;
The brazen Portal in his Passage rung.
The Mules preceding draw the loaded Wain,
Charg’d with the Gifts; Idaeus holds the Rein,
400The King himself his gentle Steeds controuls,
And thro’ surrounding Friends the Chariot rolls.
On his slow Wheels the following People wait,
Mourn at each Step, and give him up to Fate,
With Hands uplifted, eye him as he past,
And gaze upon him as they gaz’d their last.
Now forward fares the Father on his way,
Thro’ the lone Fields, and back to Ilion they.
Great Jove beheld him as he crost the Plain,
And felt the Woes of miserable Man.
Then thus to Hermes. Thou whose constant Cares
Still succour Mortals, and attend their Pray’rs;
Behold an Object to thy Charge consign’d,
If ever Pity touch’d thee for Mankind.
Go, guard the Sire; th’observing Foe prevent,
And safe conduct him to Achilles’ Tent.
The God obeys, his golden Pinions binds,
And mounts incumbent on the Wings of Winds,
That high thro’ Fields of Air his Flight sustain,
O’er the wide Earth, and o’er the boundless Main:
Then grasps the Wand that causes Sleep to fly,
Or in soft Slumbers seals the wakeful Eye;
Thus arm’d, swift Hermes steers his airy way,
And stoops on Hellespont’s resounding Sea.
A beauteous Youth, majestick and divine,
He seem’d, fair Offspring of some princely Line!
Now Twilight veil’d the glaring Face of Day,
And clad the dusky Fields in sober Gray;
What time the Herald and the hoary King
Their Chariots stopping, at the silver Spring
That circling Ilus’ ancient Marble flows,
Allow’d their Mules and Steeds a short Repose.
Thro’ the dim Shade the Herald first espies
A Man’s approach, and thus to Priam cries.
I mark some Foes Advance: O King! beware;
This hard Adventure claims thy utmost Care:
For much I fear, Destruction hovers nigh:
Our State asks Counsel; is it best to fly?
Or, old and helpless, at his Feet to fall,
(Two wretched Suppliants) and for Mercy call?
Th’ afflicted Monarch shiver’d with Despair;
Pale grew his Face, and upright stood his Hair;
Sunk was his Heart; his Colour went and came;
A sudden Trembling shook his aged Frame:
When Hermes greeting, touch’d his royal Hand,
And gentle, thus accosts with kind Demand.
Say whither, Father! when each mortal Sight
Is seal’d in Sleep, thou wander’st thro’ the Night?
Why roam thy Mules and Steeds the Plains along,
Thro’ Grecian Foes, so num’rous and so strong?
450What couldst thou hope, should these thy Treasures view,
These, who with endless Hate thy Race pursue?
For what Defence alas! couldst thou provide?
Thy self not young, a weak old Man thy Guide.
Yet suffer not thy Soul to sink with Dread;
From me, no Harm shall touch thy rev’rend Head;
From Greece I’ll guard thee too; for in those Lines
The living Image of my Father shines.
Thy Words, that speak Benevolence of Mind
Are true, my Son! (the godlike Sire rejoin’d)
Great are my Hazards; but the Gods survey
My Steps, and send thee, Guardian of my way.
Hail, and be blest! For scarce of mortal Kind
Appears thy Form, thy Feature, and thy Mind.
Nor true are all thy Words, nor erring wide;
(The sacred Messenger of Heav’n reply’d)
But say, convey’st thou thro’ the lonely Plains
What yet most precious of thy Store remains,
To lodge in safety with some friendly Hand?
Prepar’d perchance to leave thy native Land.
Or fly’st thou now? What Hopes can Troy retain?
Thy matchless Son, her Guard and Glory, slain!
The King, alarm’d. Say what, and whence thou art,
Who search the Sorrows of a Parent’s Heart,
And know so well how god-like Hector dy’d?
Thus Priam spoke, and Hermes thus reply’d.
You tempt me, Father, and with Pity touch:
On this sad Subject you enquire too much.
Oft have these Eyes that godlike Hector view’d
In glorious Fight with Grecian Blood embru’d:
I saw him, when like Jove, his Flames he tost
On thousand Ships, and wither’d half an Host:
I saw, but help’d not: Stern Achilles’ Ire
Forbad Assistance, and enjoy’d the Fire.
For him I serve, of Myrmidonian Race;
One Ship convey’d us from our native Place;
Polyctor is my Sire, an honour’d Name,
Old like thy self, and not unknown to Fame;
Of sev’n his Sons, by whom the Lot was cast
To serve our Prince, it fell on me, the last.
To watch this Quarter my Adventure falls,
For with the Morn the Greeks attack your Walls;
Sleepless they sit, impatient to engage,
And scarce their Rulers check the martial Rage.
If then thou art of stern Pelides’ Train,
(The mournful Monarch thus rejoin’d again)
Ah tell me truly, where, oh where are laid
My Son’s dear Relicks? what befalls him dead?
Have Dogs dismember’d on the naked Plains,
Or yet unmangled rest his cold Remains?
500O favor’d of the Skies! (Thus answer’d then
The Pow’r that mediates between Gods and Men)
Nor Dogs nor Vultures have thy Hector rent,
But whole he lies, neglected in the Tent:
This the twelfth Evening since he rested there,
Untouch’d by Worms, untainted by the Air.
Still as Aurora’s ruddy Beam is spread,
Round his Friend’s Tomb Achilles drags the Dead;
Yet undisfigur’d, or in Limb, or Face,
All fresh he lies, with ev’ry living Grace,
Majestical in Death! No Stains are found
O’er all the Corse, and clos’d is ev’ry Wound,
(Tho’ many a Wound they gave) Some heav’nly Care,
Some Hand divine, preserves him ever fair:
Or all the Host of Heav’n, to whom he led
A Life so grateful, still regard him dead.
Thus spoke to Priam the coelestial Guide,
And joyful thus the royal Sire reply’d.
Blest is the Man who pays the Gods above
The constant Tribute of Respect and Love:
Those who inhabit the Olympian Bow’r
My Son forgot not, in exalted Pow’r;
And Heav’n, that ev’ry Virtue bears in mind,
Ev’n to the Ashes of the Just, is kind.
But thou, oh gen’rous Youth! this Goblet take,
A Pledge of Gratitude for Hector’s sake;
And while the fav’ring Gods our Steps survey,
Safe to Pelides’ Tent conduct my way.
To whom the latent God. O King forbear
To tempt my Youth, for apt is Youth to err:
But can I, absent from my Prince’s Sight,
Take Gifts in secret, that must shun the Light?
What from our Master’s Int’rest thus we draw,
Is but a licens’d Theft that ’scapes the Law.
Respecting him, my Soul abjures th’ Offence;
And as the Crime I dread the Consequence.
Thee, far as Argos, pleas’d I could convey;
Guard of thy Life, and Partner of thy Way.
On thee attend, thy Safety to maintain,
O’er pathless Forests, or the roaring Main.
He said, then took the Chariot at a Bound,
And snatch’d the Reins, and whirl’d the Lash around:
Before th’inspiring God that urg’d them on,
The Coursers fly with Spirit not their own.
And now they reach’d the naval Walls, and found
The Guards repasting, while the Bowls go round;
On these the Virtue of his Wand he tries,
And pours deep Slumber on their watchful Eyes:
Then heav’d the massy Gates, remov’d the Bars,
And o’er the Trenches led the rolling Cars.
550Unseen, thro’ all the hostile Camp they went,
And now approach’d Pelides’ lofty Tent.
Of Fir the Roof was rais’d, and cover’d o’er
With Reeds collected from the marshy Shore;
And, fenc’d with Palisades, a Hall of State,
(The Work of Soldiers) where the Hero sate.
Large was the Door, whose well-compacted Strength
A solid Pine-tree barr’d of wond’rous Length;
Scarce three strong Greeks could lift its mighty Weight,
But great Achilles singly clos’d the Gate.
This Hermes (such the Pow’r of Gods) set wide;
Then swift alighted the coelestial Guide,
And thus, reveal’d—Hear Prince! and understand
Thou ow’st thy Guidance to no mortal Hand:
Hermes I am, descended from above,
The King of Arts, the Messenger of Jove.
Farewell: To shun Achilles’ Sight I fly;
Uncommon are such Favours of the Sky,
Nor stand confest to frail Mortality.
Now fearless enter, and prefer thy Pray’rs;
Adjure him by his Father’s silver Hairs,
His Son, his Mother! urge him to bestow
Whatever Pity that stern Heart can know.
Thus having said, he vanish’d from his Eyes,
And in a moment shot into the Skies:
The King, confirm’d from Heav’n, alighted there,
And left his aged Herald on the Car.
With solemn Pace thro’ various Rooms he went,
And found Achilles in his inner Tent:
There sate the Hero; Alcimus the brave,
And great Automedon, Attendance gave:
These serv’d his Person at the royal Feast,
Around, at awful distance, stood the rest.
Unseen by these, the King his Entry made;
And prostrate now before Achilles laid,
Sudden, (a venerable Sight!) appears;
Embrac’d his Knees, and bath’d his Hands in Tears;
Those direful Hands his Kisses press’d, embru’d
Ev’n with the best, the dearest of his Blood!
As when a Wretch, (who conscious of his Crime
Pursu’d for Murder, flies his native Clime)
Just gains some Frontier, breathless, pale! amaz’d!
All gaze, all wonder: Thus Achilles gaz’d:
Thus stood th’Attendants stupid with Surprize;
All mute, yet seem’d to question with their Eyes:
Each look’d on other, none the Silence broke,
Till thus at last the Kingly Suppliant spoke,
Ah think, thou favour’d of the Pow’rs Divine!
Think of thy Father’s Age, and pity mine!
In me, that Father’s rev’rend Image trace,
600Those silver Hairs, that venerable Face;
His trembling Limbs, his helpless Person, see!
In all my Equal, but in Misery!
Yet now perhaps, some Turn of human Fate
Expells him helpless from his peaceful State;
Think from some pow’rful Foe tho see’st him fly,
And beg Protection with a feeble Cry,
Yet still one Comfort in his Soul may rise;
He hears his Son still lives to glad his Eyes;
And hearing still may hope, a better Day
May send him thee to chase that Foe away.
No Comfort to my Griefs, no Hopes remain,
The best, the bravest of my Sons are slain!
Yet what a Race? e’er Greece to Ilion came,
The Pledge of many a lov’d, and loving Dame;
Nineteen one Mother bore—Dead, all are dead!
How oft, alas! has wretched Priam bled?
Still One was left, their Loss to recompense;
His Father’s Hope, his Country’s last Defence.
Him too thy Rage has slain! beneath thy Steel
Unhappy, in his Country’s Cause he fell!
For him, thro’ hostile Camps I bent my way,
For him thus prostrate at thy Feet I lay;
Large Gifts, proportion’d to thy Wrath, I bear;
Oh hear the Wretched, and the Gods revere!
Think of thy Father, and this Face behold!
See him in me, as helpless and as old!
Tho’ not so wretched: There he yields to me,
The First of Men in sov’reign Misery.
Thus forc’d to kneel, thus grov’ling to embrace
The Scourage and Ruin of my Realm and Race;
Suppliant my Childrens Murd’rer to implore,
And kiss those Hands yet reeking with their Gore!
These Words soft Pity in the Chief inspire,
Touch’d with the dear Remembrance of his Sire.
Then with his Hand (as prostrate still he lay)
The Old Man’s Cheek he gently turn’d away.
Now each by turns indulg’d the Gush of Woe;
And now the mingled Tides together flow:
This low on Earth, that gently bending o’er,
A Father one, and one a Son, deplore:
But great Achilles diff’rent Passions rend,
And now his Sire he mourns, and now his Friend.
Th’ infectious Softness thro’ the Heroes ran;
One universal, solemn Show’r began;
They bore as Heroes, but they felt as Man.
Satiate at length with unavailing Woes,
From the high Throne divine Achilles rose;
The rev’rend Monarch by the Hand he rais’d;
On his white Beard and Form majestick gaz’d,
650Not unrelenting: Then serene began
With Words to sooth the miserable Man.
Alas! what Weight of Anguish hast thou known?
Unhappy Prince! thus guardless and alone
To pass thro’ Foes, and thus undaunted face
The Man whose Fury has destroy’d thy Race?
Heav’n sure has arm’d thee with a Heart of Steel,
A Strength proportion’d to the Woes you feel.
Rise then: Let Reason mitigate our Care:
To mourn, avails not: Man is born to bear.
Such is, alas! the Gods severe Decree;
They, only they are blest, and only free.
Two Urns by Jove’s high Throne have ever stood,
The Source of Evil one, and one of Good;
From thence the Cup of mortal Man he fills,
Blessings to these, to those distributes Ills;
To most, he mingles both: The Wretch decreed
To taste the bad, unmix’d, is curst indeed;
Pursu’d by Wrongs, by meagre Famine driv’n,
He wanders, Outcast both of Earth and Heav’n.
The Happiest taste not Happiness sincere,
But find the cordial Draught is dash’d with Care.
Who more than Peleus shone in Wealth and Pow’r?
What Stars concurring blest his natal Hour?
A Realm, a Goddess, to his Wishes giv’n,
Grac’d by the Gods with all the Gifts of Heav’n!
One Evil yet o’ertakes his latest Day,
No Race succeeding to imperial Sway:
One only Son! and he (alas!) ordain’d
To fall untimely in a foreign Land!
See him, in Troy, the pious Care decline
Of his weak Age, to live the Curse of thine!
Thou too, Old Man, hast happier Days beheld;
In Riches once, in Children once excell’d;
Extended Phrygia own’d thy ample Reign,
And all fair Lesbos’ blissful Seats contain,
And all wide Hellespont’s unmeasur’d Main.
But since the God his Hand has pleas’d to turn,
And fill thy Measure from his bitter Urn,
What sees the Sun, but hapless Heroes Falls?
War, and the Blood of Men, surround thy Walls!
What must be, must be. Bear thy Lot, nor shed
These unavailing Sorrows o’er the Dead;
Thou can’st not call him from the Stygian Shore,
But thou alas! may’st live, to suffer more!
To whom the King. Oh favour’d of the Skies!
Here let me grow to Earth! since Hector lies
On the bare Beach, depriv’d of Obsequies.
Oh give me Hector! to my Eyes restore
His Corse, and take the Gifts: I ask no more.
700Thou, as thou may’st, these boundless Stores enjoy;
Safe may’st thou sail, and turn thy Wrath from Troy;
So shall thy Pity and Forbearance give
A weak old Man to see the Light and live!
Move me no more ( Achilles thus replies
While kindling Anger sparkled in his Eyes)
Nor seek by Tears my steady Soul to bend;
To yield thy Hector I my self intend:
For know, from Jove my Goddess-Mother came,
(Old Ocean’s Daughter, silver-footed Dame)
Nor com’st thou but by Heav’n; nor com’st alone,
Some God impells with Courage not thy own:
No human Hand the weighty Gates unbarr’d,
Nor could the boldest of our Youth have dar’d
To pass our Outworks, or elude the Guard.
Cease; lest neglectful of high Jove’s Command
I show thee, King! thou tread’st on hostile Land;
Release my Knees, thy suppliant Arts give o’er,
And shake the Purpose of my Soul no more.
The Sire obey’d him, trembling and o’er-aw’d.
Achilles, like a Lion, rush’d abroad:
Automedon and Alcimus attend,
Whom most he honour’d, since he lost his Friend;
These to unyoke the Mules and Horses went,
And led the hoary Herald to the Tent;
Next heap’d on high the num’rous Presents bear
(Great Hector’s Ransome) from the polish’d Car.
Two splendid Mantles, and a Carpet spread,
They leave; to cover, and inwrap the Dead.
Then call the Handmaids with assistant Toil
To wash the Body, and anoint with Oil;
Apart from Priam, lest th’ unhappy Sire
Provok’d to Passion, once more rouze to Ire
The stern Pelides; and nor sacred Age
Nor Jove’s Command, should check the rising Rage.
This done, the Garments o’er the Corse they spread;
Achilles lifts it to the fun’ral Bed:
Then, while the Body on the Car they laid,
He groans, and calls on lov’d Patroclus’ Shade.
If, in that Gloom which never Light must know,
The Deeds of Mortals touch the Ghosts below;
O Friend! forgive me, that I thus fulfill
(Restoring Hector ) Heav’ns unquestion’d Will.
The Gifts the Father gave, be ever thine,
To grace thy Manes, and adorn thy Shrine.
He said, and entring, took his Seat of State,
Where full before him rev’rend Priam sate:
To whom, compos’d, the god-like Chief begun.
Lo! to thy Pray’r restor’d, thy breathless Son:
Extended on the Fun’ral Couch he lies;
750And soon as Morning paints the Eastern Skies,
The Sight is granted to thy longing Eyes.
But now the peaceful Hours of sacred Night
Demand Refection, and to Rest invite:
Nor thou O Father! thus consum’d with Woe,
The common Cares that nourish Life, foregoe.
Not thus did Niobe, of Form divine,
A Parent once, whose Sorrows equal’d thine:
Six youthful Sons, as many blooming Maids
In one sad Day beheld the Stygian Shades;
These by Apollo’s silver Bow were slain,
Those, Cynthia’s Arrows stretch’d upon the Plain.
So was her Pride chastiz’d by Wrath divine,
Who match’d her own with bright Latona’s Line;
But two the Goddess, twelve the Queen enjoy’d;
Those boasted twelve th’avenging two destroy’d.
Steep’d in their Blood, and in the Dust outspread,
Nine Days neglected lay expos’d the Dead;
None by to weep them, to inhume them none;
(For Jove had turn’d the Nation all to Stone:)
The Gods themselves at length relenting, gave
Th’unhappy Race the Honours of a Grave.
Her self a Rock, (for such was Heav’ns high Will)
Thro’ Desarts wild now pours a weeping Rill;
Where round the Bed whence Acheloüs springs
The wat’ry Fairies dance in mazy Rings,
There high on Sipylus his shaggy Brow,
She stands her own sad Monument of Woe;
The Rock for ever lasts, the Tears for ever flow!
Such Griefs, O King! have other Parents known;
Remember theirs, and mitigate thy own.
The Care of Heav’n thy Hector has appear’d,
Nor shall he lye unwept, and uninterr’d;
Soon may thy aged Cheeks in Tears be drown’d,
And all the Eyes of Ilion stream around.
He said, and rising, chose the Victim Ewe
With silver Fleece, which his Attendants slew.
The Limbs they sever from the reeking Hyde,
With Skill prepare them, and in Parts divide:
Each on the Coals the sep’rate Morsels lays,
And hasty, snatches from the rising Blaze.
With Bread the glitt’ring Canisters they load,
Which round the Board Automedon bestow’d:
The Chief himself to each his Portion plac’d,
And each indulging shar’d in sweet Repast.
When now the Rage of Hunger was represt,
The wond’ring Hero eyes his royal Guest;
No less the royal Guest the Hero eyes,
His god-like Aspect and majestick Size;
Here, youthful Grace and noble Fire engage,
800And there, the mild Benevolence of Age.
Thus gazing long, the Silence neither broke,
(A solemn Scene!) at length the Father spoke.
Permit me now, belov’d of Jove! to steep
My careful Temples in the Dew of Sleep:
For since the Day that numbred with the Dead
My hapless Son, the Dust has been my Bed,
Soft Sleep a Stranger to my weeping Eyes,
My only Food my Sorrows and my Sighs!
Till now, encourag’d by the Grace you give,
I share thy Banquet, and consent to live.
With that, Achilles bad prepare the Bed,
With Purple soft, and shaggy Carpets spread;
Forth, by the flaming Lights, they bend their way,
And place the Couches, and the Cov’rings lay.
Then he: Now Father sleep, but sleep not here,
Consult thy Safety, and forgive my Fear,
Lest any Argive, (at this Hour awake,
To ask our Counsel or our Orders take,)
Approaching sudden to our open’d Tent,
Perchance behold thee, and our Grace prevent.
Should such report thy honour’d Person here,
The King of Men the Ransom might defer.
But say with speed, if ought of thy Desire
Remains unask’d; what Time the Rites require
T’ inter thy Hector? For, so long we stay
Our slaught’ring Arm, and bid the Hosts obey.
If then thy Will permit (the Monarch said)
To finish all due Honours to the Dead,
This, of thy Grace, accord: To thee are known
The Fears of Ilion, clos’d within her Town,
And at what distance from our Walls aspire
The Hills of Ide, and Forests for the Fire.
Nine Days to vent our Sorrows I request,
The tenth shall see the Fun’ral and the Feast;
The next, to raise his Monument be giv’n;
The twelfth we war, if War be doom’d by Heav’n!
This thy Request (reply’d the Chief) enjoy:
Till then, our Arms suspend the Fall of Troy.
Then gave his Hand at parting, to prevent
The Old Man’s Fears, and turn’d within the Tent;
Where fair Briseis bright in blooming Charms
Expects her Hero with desiring Arms.
But in the Porch the King and Herald rest,
Sad Dreams of Care yet wand’ring in their Breast.
Now Gods and Men the Gifts of Sleep partake;
Industrious Hermes only was awake,
The King’s Return revolving in his Mind,
To pass the Ramparts, and the Watch to blind.
The Pow’r descending hover’d o’er his Head:
850And sleep’st thou Father! (thus the Vision said)
Now dost thou sleep, when Hector is restor’d?
Nor fear the Grecian Foes, nor Grecian Lord?
Thy Presence here shou’d stern Atrides see,
Thy still-surviving Sons may sue for thee,
May offer all thy Treasures yet contain,
To spare thy Age; and offer all in vain!
Wak’d with the Word, the trembling Sire arose,
And rais’d his Friend: The God before him goes,
He joins the Mules, directs them with his Hand,
And moves in Silence thro’ the hostile Land.
When now to Xanthus’ yellow Stream they drove,
( Xanthus, immortal Progeny of Jove )
The winged Deity forsook their View,
And in a Moment to Olympus flew.
Now shed Aurora round her Saffron Ray,
Sprung thro’ the Gates of Light, and gave the Day:
Charg’d with their mournful Load, to Ilion goe
The Sage and King, majestically slow.
Cassandra first beholds, from Ilion’s Spire,
The sad Procession of her hoary Sire,
Then, as the pensive Pomp advanc’d more near,
Her breathless Brother stretch’d upon the Bier:
A Show’r of Tears o’erflows her beauteous Eyes,
Alarming thus all Ilion with her Cries.
Turn here your steps, and here your eyes employ,
Ye wretched Daughters, and ye Sons of Troy!
If e’er ye rush’d in Crowds, with vast Delight
To hail your Hero glorious from the Fight;
Now meet him dead, and let your Sorrows flow!
Your common Triumph, and your common Woe
In thronging Crowds they issue to the Plains,
Nor Man, nor Woman, in the Walls remains.
In ev’ry Face the self-same Grief is shown,
And Troy sends forth one universal Groan.
At Scaea’s Gates they meet the mourning Wain,
Hang on the Wheels, and grovel round the Slain.
The Wife and Mother, frantic with Despair,
Kiss his pale Cheek, and rend their scatter’d Hair:
Thus wildly wailing, at the Gates they lay;
And there had sigh’d and sorrow’d out the Day;
But god-like Priam from the Chariot rose:
Forbear (he cry’d) this Violence of Woes,
First to the Palace let the Car proceed,
Then pour your boundless Sorrows o’er the Dead.
The Waves of People at his Word divide,
Slow rolls the Chariot thro’ the following Tide;
Ev’n to the Palace the sad Pomp they wait:
They weep, and place him on the Bed of State.
A melancholy Choir attend around,
900With plaintive Sighs, and Musick’s solemn Sound:
Alternately they sing, alternate flow
Th’ obedient Tears, melodious in their Woe.
While deeper Sorrows groan from each full Heart,
And Nature speaks at ev’ry Pause of Art.
First to the Corse the weeping Consort flew;
Around his Neck her milk-white Arms she threw,
And oh my Hector! oh my Lord! she cries,
Snatch’d in thy Bloom from these desiring Eyes!
Thou to the dismal Realms for ever gone!
And I abandon’d, desolate, alone!
An only Son, once Comfort of our Pains,
Sad Product now of hapless Love, remains!
Never to manly Age that Son shall rise,
Or with increasing Graces glad my Eyes:
For Ilion now (her great Defender slain)
Shall sink, a smoaking Ruin on the Plain.
Who now protects her Wives with guardian Care?
Who saves her Infants from the Rage of War?
Now hostile Fleets must waft those Infants o’er,
(Those Wives must wait ’em) to a foreign Shore!
Thou too my Son! to barb’rous Climes shalt goe,
The sad Companion of thy Mother’s Woe;
Driv’n hence a Slave before the Victor’s Sword;
Condemn’d to toil for some inhuman Lord.
Or else some Greek whose Father prest the Plain,
Or Son, or Brother, by great Hector slain;
In Hector’s Blood his Vengeance shall enjoy,
And hurl thee headlong from the Tow’rs of Troy.
For thy stern Father never spar’d a Foe:
Thence all these Tears, and all this Scene of Woe!
Thence, many Evils his sad Parents bore,
His Parents many, but his Consort more.
Why gav’st thou not to me thy dying Hand?
And why receiv’d not I thy last Command?
Some Word thou would’st have spoke, which sadly dear,
My Soul might keep, or utter with a Tear;
Which never, never could be lost in Air,
Fix’d in my Heart, and oft repeated there!
Thus to her weeping Maids she makes her Moan;
Her weeping Handmaids echo Groan for Groan.
The mournful Mother next sustains her Part.
Oh thou, the best, the dearest to my Heart!
Of all my Race thou most by Heav’n approv’d,
And by th’Immortals ev’n in Death belov’d!
While all my other Sons in barb’rous Bands
Achilles bound, and sold to foreign Lands,
This felt no Chains, but went a glorious Ghost
Free, and a Hero, to the Stygian Coast.
Sentenc’d, ’tis true, by his inhuman Doom,
950Thy noble Corse was dragg’d around the Tomb,
(The Tomb of him thy warlike Arm had slain)
Ungen’rous Insult, impotent and vain!
Yet glow’st thou fresh with ev’ry living Grace,
No mark of Pain, or Violence of Face;
Rosy and fair! as Phoebus’ silver Bow
Dismiss’d thee gently to the Shades below.
Thus spoke the Dame, and melted into Tears.
Sad Helen next in Pomp of Grief appears:
Fast from the shining Sluices of her Eyes
Fall the round crystal Drops, while thus she cries.
Ah dearest Friend! in whom the Gods had join’d
The mildest Manners with the bravest Mind!
Now twice ten Years (unhappy Years) are o’er
Since Paris brought me to the Trojan Shore;
(Oh had I perish’d, e’er that Form divine
Seduc’d this soft, this easy Heart of mine!)
Yet was it ne’er my Fate, from thee to find
A Deed ungentle, or a Word unkind:
When others curst the Auth’ress of their Woe,
Thy Pity check’d my Sorrows in their Flow:
If some proud Brother ey’d me with Disdain,
Or scornful Sister with her sweeping Train,
Thy gentle Accents soften’d all my Pain.
For thee I mourn; and mourn my self in thee,
The wretched Source of all this Misery!
The Fate I caus’d, for ever I bemoan;
Sad Helen has no Friend now thou art gone!
Thro’ Troy’s wide Streets abandon’d shall I roam,
In Troy deserted, as abhorr’d at Home!
So spoke the Fair, with Sorrow-streaming Eye:
Distressful Beauty melts each Stander-by;
On all around th’infectious Sorrow grows;
But Priam check’d the Torrent as it rose.
Perform, ye Trojans! what the Rites require,
And fell the Forests for a fun’ral Pyre;
Twelve Days, nor Foes, nor secret Ambush dread;
Achilles grants these Honours to the Dead.
He spoke; and at his Word, the Trojan Train
Their Mules and Oxen harness to the Wain,
Pour thro’ the Gates, and, fell’d from Ida’s Crown,
Roll back the gather’d Forests to the Town.
These Toils continue nine succeeding Days,
And high in Air a Sylvan Structure raise.
But when the tenth fair Morn began to shine,
Forth to the Pile was born the Man divine,
And plac’d aloft: while all, with streaming Eyes,
Beheld the Flames and rolling Smokes arise.
Soon as Aurora, Daughter of the Dawn,
With rosy Lustre streak’d the dewy Lawn;
1000Again the mournful Crowds surround the Pyre,
And quench with Wine the yet remaining Fire.
The snowy Bones his Friends and Brothers place
(With Tears collected) in a golden Vase;
The golden Vase in purple Palls they roll’d,
Of softest Texture, and inwrought with Gold;
Last o’er the Urn the sacred Earth they spread,
And rais’d the Tomb, Memorial of the Dead.
(Strong Guards and Spies, till all the Rites were done,
Watch’d from the rising to the setting Sun)
All Troy then moves to Priam’s Court again,
A solemn, silent, melancholy Train.
Assembled there, from pious Toil they rest,
And sadly shar’d the last Sepulcral Feast.
Such Honours Ilion to her Hero paid,
And peaceful slept the mighty Hector’s Shade.
Observations on the 24th Book
Notes Index
- Note I.
- Note II.
- Note III.
- Note IV.
- Note V.
- Note VI.
- Note VII.
- Note VIII.
- Note IX.
- Note X.
- Note XI.
- Note XII.
- Note XIII.
- Note XIV.
- Note XV.
- Note XVI.
- Note XVII.
- Note XVIII.
- Note XIX.
- Note XX.
- Note XXI.
- Note XXII.
- Note XXIII.
- Note XXIV.
- Note XXV.
- Note XXVII.
- Note XXVIII.
- Note XXIX.
- Note XXX.
- Note XXXI.
- Note XXXII.
- Note XXXIII.
- Note XXXIV.
- Note XXXV.
- Note XXXVI.
- Note XXXVII.
- Note XXXVIII.
- Note XXXIX.
- Note XL.
- Note XLI.
- Note XLII.
Note I.
VERSE 14. What Seas they measur’d, &c.]
There is something very noble in these Sentiments of Achilles: He does not recollect any soft Moments, any Tendernesses that had pass’d between him and Patroclus, but he revolves the many Difficulties, the Toils by Land, and the Dangers by Sea, in which they had been Companions: Thus the Poet on all Occasions admirably sustains the Character of Achilles; when he play’d upon the Harp in the ninth Book, he sung the Atchievements of Kings; and in this place there is an air of Greatness in his very Sorrows: Achilles is as much a Hero when he weeps, as when he fights.
This Passage in Homer has not escap’d the Censure of Plato, who thought it a Diminution to his Character to be thus transported with Grief; but the Objection will vanish if we remember that all the Passions of Achilles are in the extreme; his Nature is violent, and it would have been an Outrage to his general Character to have represented him as mourning moderately for his Friend. Plato spoke more like a Philosopher than a Critick when he blamed the Behaviour of Achilles as unmanly: These Tears would have ill-become Plato, but they are graceful in Achilles. Besides there is something very instructive in this whole Representation, it shews us the Power of a sincere Friendship, and softens and recommends the Character of Achilles; the Violence he us’d towards his Enemy is alleviated by the Sincerity he expresses towards his Friend; he is a terrible Enemy, but an amiable Friend.
Note II.
VERSE 30. For Phoebus watch’d it, &c.]
Eustathius says, that by this Shield of Apollo are meant the Clouds that are drawn up by the Beams of the Sun, which cooling and qualifying the Sultriness of the Air, preserved the Body from Decay: But perhaps the Poet had something farther in his Eye when he introduc’d Apollo upon this Occasion: Apollo is a Physician and the God of Medicaments; if therefore Achilles used any Arts to preserve Hector from Decay that he might be able the longer to insult his Remains, Apollo may properly be said to protect it with his Aegis.
Note III.
VERSE 36. But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies. ]
It is with excellent Art that the Poet carries on this part of his Poem, he shews that he could have contriv’d another way to recover the Body of Hector, but as a God is never to be introduc’d but when human Means fail, he rejects the Interposition of Mercury, makes use of ordinary Methods, and Priam redeems his Son: This gives an Air of Probability to the Relation, at the same time that it advances the Glory of Achilles; for the greatest of his Enemies labours to purchase his Favour, the Gods hold a Consultation, and a King becomes his Suppliant. Eustathius. Those seven Lines, from [Greek]to [Greek], have been thought spurious by some of the Ancients: They judg’d it an Indecency that the Goddess of Wisdom and Achilles should be equally inexorable; and that it was below the Majesty of the Gods to be said at all to steal. Besides, say they, had Homer been acquainted with the Judgment of Paris, he would undoubtedly have mention’d it before this time in his Poem, and consequently that Story was of a later Invention: And Aristarchus affirms that [Greek]is a more modern Word, and never known before the Time of Hesiod, who uses it when he speaks of the Daughters of Praetus; and adds, that it is appropriated to signify the Incontinence of Women, and cannot be at all apply’d to Men: Therefore others read the last Verse,
[Greek]
These Objections are entirely gather’d from Eustathius; to which we may add, that Macrobius seems to have been one of those who rejected these Verses, since he affirms that our Author never mentions the Judgment of Paris. It may be answer’d, that the Silence of Homer in the foregoing part of the Poem, as to the Judgment of Paris, is no Argument that he was ignorant of that Story: Perhaps he might think it most proper to unfold the Cause of the Destruction of Troy in the Conclusion of the Ilias; that the Reader seeing the Wrong done, and the Punishment of that Wrong immediately following, might acknowledge the Justice of it.
The same Reason will be an answer to the Objection relating to the Anger of Pallas: Wisdom cannot be satisfy’d without Justice, and consequently Pallas ought not to cease from Resentment, till Troy has suffer’d the Deserts of her Crimes.
I cannot think that the Objection about the Word [Greek]is of any Weight; the Date of Words is utterly uncertain, and as no one has been able to determine the Ages of Homer, and Hesiod, so neither can any Person be assured that such Words were not in use in Homer’s Days.
Note IV.
VERSE 52. A Lion, not a Man, &c.]
This is a very formal Condemnation of the Morals of Achilles, which Homer puts into the Mouth of a God. One may see from this alone that he was far from designing his Hero a virtuous Character, yet the Poet artfully introduces Apollo in the midst of his Reproaches, intermingling the Hero’s Praises with his Blemishes: Brave tho’ he be, &c. Thus what is the real Merit of Achilles is distinguish’d from what is blameable in his Character, and we see Apollo, or the God of Wisdom, is no less impartial than just in his Representation of Achilles.
Note V.
VERSE 114. And wept her god like Son’s approaching Doom. ]
These words are very artfully inserted by the Poet. The Poem could not proceed to the Death of Achilles without breaking the Action; and therefore to satisfy the Curiosity of the Reader concerning the Fate of this great Man, he takes care to inform us that his Life draws to a Period, and as it were celebrates his Funeral before his Death.
Such Circumstances as these greatly raise the Character of Achilles; he is so truly valiant, that tho’ he knows he must fall before Troy, yet he does not abstain from the War, but couragiously meets his Death: And here I think it proper to insert an Observation that ought to have been made before, which is, that Achilles did not know that Hector was to fall by his Hand; if he had known it, where would have been the mighty Courage in engaging him in a single Combat, in which he was sure to conquer? The contrary of this is evident from the Words of Achilles to Hector just before the Combat,
[Greek], &c.—
I will make no Compacts with thee, says Achilles, but one of us shall fall.
Note VI.
VERSE 141. Nine Days are past since all the Court above, &c.]
It may be thought that so many Interpositions of the Gods, such Messages from Heaven to Earth, and down to the Seas, are needless Machines; and it may be imagin’d that it is an Offence against Probability that so many Deities should be employ’d to pacify Achilles: But I am of Opinion that the Poet conducts this whole Affair with admirable Judgment. The Poem is now almost at the Conclusion, and Achilles is to pass from a State of an almost inexorable Resentment to a State of perfect Tranquillity; such a Change could not be brought about by human Means; Achilles is too stubborn to obey any thing less than a God: This is evident from his rejecting the Persuasion of the whole Grecian Army to return to the Battle: So that it appears that this Machinery was necessary, and consequently a Beauty to the Poem.
It may be farther added, that these several Incidents proceed from Jupiter: It is by his Appointment that so many Gods are employ’d to attend Achilles. By these means Jupiter fulfills the Promise mention’d in the first Book, of honouring the Son of Thetis, and the Poet excellently sustains his Character by representing the inexorable Achilles as not parting with the Body of his mortal Enemy, but by the immediate Command of Jupiter. If the Poet had conducted these Incidents merely by human Means, or suppos’d Achilles to restore the Body of Hector entirely out of Compassion, the Draught had been unnatural, because unlike Achilles: Such a Violence of Temper was not to be pacify’d by ordinary Methods. Besides, the Poet has made use of the properest Personages to carry on the Affair; for who could be suppos’d to have so great an Influence upon Achilles as his own Mother, who is a Goddess?
Note VII.
VERSE 164. And thy Heart waste with life-consuming Woe. ]
This Expression in the Original is very particular. Were it to be translated literally it must be render’d, how long wilt thou eat, or prey upon thy own Heart by these Sorrows? And it seems that it was a common way of expressing a deep Sorrow; and Pythagoras uses it in this Sense, [Greek], that is, grieve not excessively, let not sorrow make too great an Impression upon thy Heart. Eustathius.
Note VIII.
VERSE 168. —Indulge the am’rous Hour! ]
The Ancients (says Eustathius ) rejected these Verses because of the indecent Idea they convey: The Goddess in plain Terms advises Achilles to go to Bed to his Mistress, and tells him a Woman will be a Comfort. The good Bishop is of Opinion, that they ought to be rejected, but the Reason he gives is as extraordinary as that of Thetis: Soldiers, says he, have more occasion for something to strengthen themselves with, than for Women: And this is the Reason, continues he, why Wrestlers are forbid all Commerce with that Sex during the whole Time of their Exercise.
Dionysius of Halicarnassus endeavours to justify Homer by observing, that this Advice of Thetis was not given him to induce him to any Wantonness, but was intended to indulge a nobler Passion, his Desire of Glory: She advises him to go to that Captive who was restor’d to him in a publick manner, to satisfy his Honour: To that Captive, the Detention of whom had been so great a Punishment to the whole Grecian Army: And therefore Thetis uses a very proper Motive to comfort her Son, by advising him to gratify at once both his Love and his Glory.
Plutarch has likewise labour’d in Homer’s Justification; he observes that the Poet has set the Picture of Achilles in this place in a very fair and strong point of Light: Tho’ Achilles had so lately receiv’d his belov’d Briseïs from the Hands of Agamemnon; tho’ he knew that his own Life drew to a sudden Period, yet the Hero prevails over the Lover, and he does not haste to indulge his Love: He does not lament Patroclus like a common Man by neglecting the Duties of Life, but he abstains from all Pleasures by an Excess of Sorrow, and the Love of his Mistress is lost in that of his Friend.
This Observation excellently justifies Achilles, in not indulging himself with the Company of his Mistress: The Hero prevails so much over the Lover, that Thetis thinks her self oblig’d to recall Briseïs to his Memory. Yet still the Indecency remains. All that can be said in favour of Thetis is, that she was Mother to Achilles, and consequently might take the greater Freedom with her Son.
Madam Dacier disapproves of both the former Observations: She has recourse to the Lawfulness of such a Practice between Achilles and Briseïs; and because such Commerces in those times were reputed honest, therefore she thinks the Advice was decent: The married Ladies are oblig’d to her for this Observation, and I hope all tender Mothers, when their Sons are afflicted, will advise them to comfort themselves in this manner.
In short, I am of Opinion that this Passage outrages Decency; and ’tis a sign of some Weakness to have so much occasion of Justification. Indeed the whole Passage is capable of a serious Construction, and of such a Sense as a Mother might express to a Son with Decency: And then it will run thus;
"Why art thou, my Son, thus afflicted? Why thus resign’d to Sorrow? Can neither Sleep nor Love divert you? Short is thy Date of Life, spend it not all in weeping, but allow some part of it to Love and Pleasure!"
But still the Indecency lies in the manner of the Expression, which must be allow’d to be almost obscene, (for such is the Word [Greek]misceri ) all that can be said in Defence of it is, that as we are not competent Judges of what Ideas Words might carry in Homer’s Time, so we ought not entirely to condemn him, because it is possible the Expression might not sound so indecently in ancient as in modern Ears.
Note IX.
VERSE 189. Him Hermes to Achilles shall convey. ]
The Intervention of Mercury was very necessary at this Time, and by it the Poet not only gives an Air of Probability to the Relation, but also pays a Complement to his Countreymen the Grecians: They kept so strict a Guard that nothing but a God could pass unobserv’d, and this highly recommends their military Discipline; and Priam not being able to carry the Ransom without a Chariot, it would have been an Offence against Probability, to have suppos’d him able to have pass’d all the Guards of the Army in his Chariot, without the Assistance of some Deity: Horace had this Passage in his view, Ode the 10 th of the first Book.
Iniqua Trojae castra fefellit.
Note X.
VERSE 191. —Achilles self shall spare His Age, nor touch one venerable Hair, &c.]
It is observable that every Word here is a Negative, [Greek]Achilles is still so angry that Jupiter cannot say he is wise, judicious, and merciful; he only commends him negatively, and barely says he is not a Madman, nor perversely wicked.
It is the Observation of the Ancients, says Eustathius, that all the Causes of the Sins of Man are included in those three Words: Man offends either out of Ignorance, and then he is [Greek], or thro’ Inadvertency, then he is [Greek], or wilfully and maliciously, and then he is [Greek]. So that this Description agrees very well with the present Disposition of Achilles; he is not [Greek], because his Resentment begins to abate; he is not [Greek], because his Mother has given him Instructions, nor [Greek], because he will not offend against the Injunctions of Jupiter.
Note XI.
VERSE 195. The winged Iris flies, &c.]
Mons. Rapin has been very free upon this Passage, where so many Machines are made use of to cause Priam to obtain the Body of Hector from Achilles.
"This Father (says he) who has so much Tenderness for his Son, who is so superstitious in observing the funeral Ceremonies, and saving those precious Remains from the Dogs and Vultures; ought not he to have thought of doing this himself, without being thus expressly commanded by the Gods? Was there need of a Machine to make him remember that he was a Father?"
But this Critick entirely forgets what render’d such a Conduct of absolute Necessity; namely, the extreme Danger and (in all Probability) imminent Ruin both of the King and State, upon Priam’s putting himself into the Power of his most inveterate Enemy. There was no other Method of recovering Hector, and of discharging his funeral Rites (which were look’d upon by the Ancients of so high Importance) and therefore the Message from Jupiter to encourage Priam, with the Assistance of Mercury to conduct him, and to prepare Achilles to receive him with Favour, was far from impertinent: It was Dignus vindice nodus, as Horace expresses it.
Note XII.
VERSE 200. His Face his wrapt Attire conceal’d from Sight. ]
The Poet has observ’d a great Decency in this place, he was not able to express the Grief of this royal Mourner, and so covers what he could not represent. From this Passage Semanthes the Sicyonian Painter borrow’d his Design in the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, and represents his Agamemnon, as Homer does his Priam: Aeschylus has likewise imitated this Place, and draws his Niobe exactly after the manner of Homer. Eustathius.
Note XIII.
VERSE 265. He pour’d his latest Blood in manly Fight, And fell a Hero— ]
This whole Discourse of Hecuba is exceedingly natural, she aggravates the Features of Achilles, and softens those of Hector: Her Anger blinds her so much that she can see nothing great in Achilles, and her Fondness so much, that she can discern no Defects in Hector: Thus she draws Achilles in the fiercest Colours, like a Barbarian, and calls him [Greek]: But at the same time forgets that Hector ever fled from Achilles, and in the Original directly tells us that he knew not how to fear, or how to fly. Eustathius.
Note XIV.
VERSE 291. Lo, the sad Father, &c.]
This Behaviour of Priam is very natural to a Person in his Circumstances: The Loss of his favourite Son makes so deep an Impression upon his Spirits, that he is incapable of Consolation; he is displeased with every body; he is angry he knows not why; the Disorder and Hurry of his Spirits make him break out into passionate Expressions, and those Expressions are contain’d in short Periods, very natural to Men in Anger, who give not themselves Leisure to express their Sentiments at full length: It is from the same Passion that Priam, in the second Speech, treats all his Sons with the utmost Indignity, calls ’em Gluttons, Dancers, and Flatterers. Eustathius very justly remarks, that he had Paris particularly in his Eye; but his Anger makes him transfer that Character to the rest of his Children, not being calm enough to make a Distinction between the Innocent and Guilty.
That Passage where he runs out into the Praises of Hector, is particularly natural: His Concern and Fondness makes him as extravagant in the Commendation of him, as in the Disparagement of his other Sons: They are less than Mortals, he more than Man. Rapin has censur’d this Anger of Priam as a Breach of the Manners, and says he might have shewn himself a Father, otherwise than by this Usage of his Children. But whoever considers his Circumstances will judge after another manner. Priam, after having been the most wealthy, most powerful and formidable Monarch of Asia, becomes all at once the most miserable of Men; He loses in less than eight Days the best of his Army, and a great Number of virtuous Sons; he loses the bravest of ’em all, his Glory and his Defence, the gallant Hector. This last Blow sinks him quite, and changes him so much, that he is no longer the same: He becomes impatient, frantick, unreasonable! The terrible Effect of ill Fortune! Whoever has the least Insight into Nature, must admire so fine a Picture of the Force of Adversity on an unhappy old Man.
Note XV.
VERSE 313. Deiphobus and Dius. ]
It has been a Dispute whether [Greek]or [Greek], in ℣. 251. was a proper Name, but Pherecydes (says Eustathius ) determines it, and assures us that Dios was a spurious Son of Priam.
Note XVI.
VERSE 342. The sad Attendants load the groaning Wain. ]
It is necessary to observe to the Reader, to avoid Confusion, that two Cars are here prepared; the one drawn by Mules, to carry the Presents, and to bring back the Body of Hector; the other drawn by Horses, in which the Herald and Priam rode. Eustathius.
Note XVII.
VERSE 377. Oh first, and greatest! &c.]
Eustathius observes, that there is not one Instance in the whole Ilias of any Prayer that was justly prefer’d, that fail’d of Success. This Procedure of Homer’s is very judicious, and answers exactly to the true end of Poetry, which is to please and instruct. Thus Priam prays that Achilles may cease his Wrath, and compassionate his Miseries; and Jupiter grants his Request: The unfortunate King obtains Compassion, and in his most inveterate Enemy finds a Friend.
Note XVIII.
VERSE 416. The Description of Mercury.]
A Man must have no Taste for Poetry that does not admire this sublime Description: Virgil has translated it almost verbatim in the 4th Book of the Aeneis, ℣. 240.
—Ille patris magni parere parabat Imperio, & primùm pedibus talaria nectit Aurea, quae sublimem alis, sive aequora supra, Seu terram rapido pariter cum flamine portant. Tum virgam capit, hâc animas ille evocat orco Pallentes, alias sub tristia tartara mittit; Dat somnos, adimitque, & lumina morte resignat.
It is hard to determine which is more excellent, the Copy, or the Original: Mercury appears in both Pictures with equal Majesty; and the Roman Dress becomes him, as well as the Grecian. Virgil has added the latter part of the fifth, and the whole sixth Line to Homer, which makes it still more full and majestical.
Give me leave to produce a Passage out of Milton, of near Affinity with the Lines above, which is not inferior to Homer or Virgil: It is the Description of the Descent of an Angel,
—Down thither, prone in Flight He speeds, and thro’ the vast Aethereal Sky Sails between Worlds and Worlds; with steady Wing Now on the polar Winds: Then with quick Force Winnows the buxom Air— Of beaming sunny Rays a golden Tiar Circled his Head; nor less his Locks behind Illustrious, on his Shoulders fledg’d with Wings, Lay waving round.— &c.
Note XIX.
VERSE 427. Now Twilight veil’d the glaring Face of Day. ]
The Poet by such Intimations as these recalls to our Minds the exact Time which Priam takes up in this Journey to Achilles: He set out in the Evening; and by the time that he reach’d the Tomb of Ilus, it was grown somewhat dark, which shews that this Tomb stood at some distance from the City: Here Mercury meets him, and when it was quite dark, guides him into the Presence of Achilles. By these Methods we may discover how exactly the Poet preserves the Unities of Time and Place, that he allots Space sufficient for the Actions which he describes, and yet does not crowd more Incidents into any Interval of Time than may be executed in as much as he allows: Thus it being improbable that so stubborn a Man as Achilles should relent in a few Moments, the Poet allows a whole Night for this Affair, so that Priam has Leisure enough to go and return, and Time enough remaining to persuade Achilles.
Note XX.
VERSE 447, &c. The Speech of Mercury to Priam.]
I shall not trouble the Reader with the Dreams of Eustathius, who tells us that this Fiction of Mercury is partly true, and partly false: ’Tis true that his Father is old, rich, and has seven Children; for Jupiter is King of the whole Universe, was from Eternity, and created both Men and Gods: In like manner, when Mercury says he is the seventh Child of his Father, Eustathius affirms that he meant that there were six Planets besides Mercury. Sure it requires great Pains and Thought to be so learnedly absurd: The Supposition which he makes afterwards is far more natural; Priam, says he, might by chance meet with one of the Myrmidons, who might conduct him unobserv’d thro’ the Camp into the Presence of Achilles, and as the Execution of any wise Design is ascrib’d to Pallas, so may this clandestine Enterprize be said to be manag’d by the Guidance of Mercury. But perhaps this whole Passage may be better explain’d by having recourse to the Pagan Theology: It was an Opinion that obtain’d in those early Days, that Jupiter frequently sent some friendly Messengers to protect the Innocent, so that Homer might intend to give his Readers a Lecture of Morality, by telling us that this unhappy King was under the Protection of the Gods.
Madam Dacier carries it farther. Homer (says she) instructed by Tradition, knew that God sends his Angels to the Succour of the afflicted. The Scripture is full of Examples of this Truth. The Story of Tobit has a wonderful Relation with this of Homer: Tobit sent his Son to Rages, a City of Media, to receive a considerable Sum; Tobias did not know the Way; he found at his Door a young Man cloath’d with a majestick Glory, which attracted Admiration: It was an Angel under the Form of a Man. This Angel being ask’d who he was, answer’d (as Mercury does here) by a Fiction: He said that he was of the Children of Israel, that his Name was Azarias, and that he was Son of Ananias. This Angel conducted Tobias in Safety; he gave him Instructions; and when he was to receive the Recompence which the Father and Son offer’d him, he declar’d that he was the Angel of the Lord, took his Flight towards heaven, and disappear’d. Here is a great Conformity in the Ideas and in the Style; and the Example of our Author so long before Tobit, proves, that this Opinion of God’s sending his Angels to the Aid of Man was very common, and much spread amongst the Pagans in those former Times. Dacier.
Note XXI.
VERSE 519. Blest is the Man, &c.]
Homer now begins after a beautiful and long Fable, to give the Moral of it, and display his poetical Justice in Rewards and Punishments: Thus Hector fought in a bad Cause, and therefore suffers in the Defence of it; but because he was a good Man, and obedient to the Gods in other Respects, his very Remains become the Care of Heaven.
I think it necessary to take notice to the Reader, that nothing is more admirable than the Conduct of Homer throughout his whole Poem, in respect to Morality. He justifies the Character of Horace,
—Quid pulchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, Plenius & melius Chrysippo & Crantore dicit.
If the Reader does not observe the Morality of the Ilias, he loses half, and the nobler part of its Beauty: He reads it as a common Romance, and mistakes the chief Aim of it, which is to instruct.
Note XXII.
VERSE 531. But can I, absent, &c.]
In the Original of this Place (which I have paraphras’d a little) the Word [Greek]is remarkable. Priam offers Mercury (whom he looks upon as a Soldier of Achilles ) a Present, which he refuses, because his Prince is ignorant of it: This Present he calls a direct Theft or Robbery; which may shew us how strict the Notions of Justice were in the Days of Homer, when if a Prince’s Servant receiv’d any Present without the Knowledge of his Master, he was esteem’d a Thief and a Robber. Eustathius.
Note XXIII.
VERSE 553. Of Fir the Roof was rais’d. ]
I have in the course of these Observations describ’d the Method of encamping used by the Grecians: The Reader has here a full and exact Description of the Tent of Achilles: This royal Pavilion was built with long Palisadoes made of Firr; the Top of it cover’d with Reeds, and the Inside was divided into several Apartments: Thus Achilles had his [Greek], or large Hall, and behind it were lodging Rooms. So in the ninth Book Phoenix has a Bed prepared for him in one Apartment, Patroclus has another for himself and his Captive Iphis, and Achilles has a third for himself and his Mistress Diomeda. But we must not imagine that the other Myrmidons had Tents of the like Dimensions: they were, as Eustathius observes, inferior to this royal one of Achilles: Which indeed is no better than an Hovel, yet agrees very well with the Duties of a Soldier, and the Simplicity of those early Times.
I am of Opinion that such fixed Tents were not used by the Grecians in their common Marches, but only during the time of Sieges, when their long stay in one Place made it necessary to build such Tents as are here describ’d; at other times they lay like Diomed in the tenth Book, in the open Air, their Spears standing upright, to be ready upon any Alarm; and with the Hides of Beasts spread on the Ground instead of a Bed.
It is worthy Observation that Homer even upon so trivial an Occasion as the describing the Tent of Achilles, takes an Opportunity to shew the superior Strength of his Hero; and tells us that three Men could scarce open the Door of his Pavilion, but Achilles could open it alone.
Note XXIV.
VERSE 569. Nor stand confest to frail Mortality. ]
Eustathius thinks it was from this Maxim, that the Princes of the East assum’d that Air of Majesty which separates them from the Sight of their Subjects; but I should rather believe that Homer copied this after the Originals from some Kings of his Time: it not being unlikely that this Policy is very ancient. Dacier.
Note XXV.
VERSE 571. Adjure him by his Father, &c.]
Eustathius observes that Priam does not entirely follow the Instructions of Mercury, but only calls to his remembrance his aged Father Peleus: And this was judiciously done by Priam: For what Motive to Compassion could arise from the mention of Thetis, who was a Goddess, and incapable of Misfortune? Or how could Neoptolemus be any Inducement to make Achilles pity Priam, when at the same time he flourish’d in the greatest Prosperity? And therefore Priam only mentions his Father Peleus, who like him, stood upon the very Brink of the Grave, and was liable to the same Misfortunes he then suffer’d. These are the Remarks of Eustathius, but how then shall we justify Mercury, the God of Eloquence, who gave him such improper Instructions with relation to Thetis? All that can be said in defence of the Poet is, that Thetis, tho’ a Goddess, has thro’ the whole Course of the Ilias been describ’d as a Partner in all the Afflictions of Achilles, and consequently might be made use of as an Inducement to raise the Compassion of Achilles. Priam might have said, I conjure thee by the Love thou bearest to thy Mother, take pity on me! For if she who is a Goddess would grieve for the Loss of her beloved Son, how greatly must the Loss of Hector afflict the unfortunate Hecuba and Priam?
Note XXVII.
VERSE 586. Sudden, (a venerable Sight!) appears. ]
I fancy this Interview between Priam and Achilles would furnish an admirable Subject for a Painter, in the Surprize of Achilles, and the other Spectators, the Attitude of Priam, and the Sorrows in the Countenance of this unfortunate King.
That Circumstance of Priam’s kissing the Hands of Achilles is inimitably fine; he kiss’d, says Homer, the Hands of Achilles, those terrible, murderous Hands that had robb’d him of so many Sons: By these two Words the Poet recalls to our Mind all the noble Actions perform’d by Achilles in the whole Ilias; and at the same time strikes us with the utmost Compassion for this unhappy King, who is reduc’d so low as to be oblig’d to kiss those Hands that had slain his Subjects, and ruin’d his Kingdom and Family.
Note XXVIII.
VERSE 598. The Speech of Priam to Achilles.]
The Curiosity of the Reader must needs be awaken’d to know how Achilles would behave to this unfortunate King; it requires all the Art of the Poet to sustain the violent Character of Achilles, and yet at the same time to soften him into Compassion. To this end the Poet uses no Preamble, but breaks directly into that Circumstance which is most likely to mollify him, and the two first Words he utters are, [Greek]see thy Father, O Achilles, in me! Nothing could be more happily imagin’d than this Entrance into his Speech; Achilles has every where been describ’d as bearing a great Affection to his Father, and by two Words the Poet recalls all the Tenderness that Love and Duty can suggest to an affectionate Son.
Priam tells Achilles that Hector fell in the Defence of his Country: I am far from thinking that this was inserted accidentally; it could not fail of having a very good Effect upon Achilles, not only as one brave Man naturally loves another, but as it implies that Hector had no particular Enmity against Achilles, but that tho’ he fought against him it was in Defence of his Country.
The Reader will observe that Priam repeats the Beginning of his Speech, and recalls his Father to his Memory in the Conclusion of it. This is done with great Judgment; the Poet takes care to enforce his Petition with the strongest Motive, and leaves it fresh upon his Memory; and possibly Priam might perceive that the mention of his Father had made a deeper Impression upon Achilles than any other part of his Petition, therefore while the Mind of Achilles dwells upon it, he again sets him before his Imagination by this Repetition, and softens him into Compassion.
Note XXIX.
VERSE 634. These Words soft Pity, &c.]
We are now come almost to the end of the Poem, and consequently to the end of the Anger of Achilles: And Homer has describ’d the Abatement of it with excellent Judgment. We may here observe how necessary the Conduct of Homer was, in sending Thetis to prepare her Son to use Priam with Civility: It would have ill suited with the violent Temper of Achilles to have used Priam with Tenderness without such Pre-admonition; nay, the unexpected Sight of his Enemy might probably have carry’d him into Violence and Rage: But Homer has avoided these Absurdities; for Achilles being already prepared for a Reconciliation, the Misery of this venerable Prince naturally melts him into Compassion.
Note XXX.
VERSE 653. Achilles ’s Speech to Priam.]
There is not a more beautiful Passage in the whole Ilias than this before us: Homer to shew that Achilles was not a mere Soldier, here draws him as a Person of excellent Sense and sound reason: Plato himself (who condemns this Passage) could not speak more like a true Philosopher: And it was a piece of great Judgment thus to describe him; for the Reader would have retain’d but a very indifferent Opinion of the Hero of a Poem, that had no Qualification but mere Strength: It also shews the Art of the Poet thus to defer this part of his Character till the very Conclusion of the Poem: By these means he fixes an Idea of his Greatness upon our Minds, and makes his Hero go off the Stage with Applause.
Neither does he here ascribe more Wisdom to Achilles than he might really be Master of; for as Eustathius observes, he had Chiron and Phoenix for his Tutors, and a Goddess for his Mother.
Note XXXI.
VERSE 663. Two Urns by Jove ’s high Throne, &c.
This is an admirable Allegory, and very beautifully imagin’d by the Poet. Plato has accus’d it as an Impiety to say that God gives Evil: But it seems borrow’d from the Eastern way of speaking, and bears a great Resemblance to several Expressions in Scripture: Thus in the Psalms, In the Hand of the Lord there is a Cup, and he poureth out of the same; as for the Dregs thereof, all the Ungodly of the Earth shall drink them. It was the Custom of the Jews to give condemn’d Persons just before Execution, [Greek], Wine mix’d with Myrrh; to make them less sensible of Pain: Thus Proverbs xxxi. 6. Give strong Drink to him that is ready to perish. This Custom was so frequent among the Jews, that the Cup which was given before Execution, came to denote Death itself, as in that Passage, Father let this Cup pass from me. Some have suppos’d that there were three Urns, one of Good, and two of Evil; thus Pindar,
[Greek]
But, as Eustathius observes, the Word [Greek]shews that there were but two, for that Word is never used when more than two are intended.
Note XXXII.
VERSE 685. Extended Phrygia, &c. ]
Homer here gives us a piece of Geography, and shews the full Extent of Priam’s Kingdom. Lesbos bounded it on the South, Phrygia on the East, and the Hellespont on the North. This Kingdom, according to Strabo in the 13th Book, was divided into nine Dynasties, who all depended upon Priam as their King: So that what Homer here relates of Priam’s Power is literally true, and confirm’d by History. Eustathius.
Note XXXIII.
VERSE 706. While kindling Anger sparkled in his Eyes. ]
I believe every Reader must be surpriz’d, as I confess I was, to see Achilles fly out into so sudden a Passion, without any apparent Reason for it. It can scarce be imagin’d that the Name of Hector (as Eustathius thinks, could throw him into so much Violence, when he had heard it mention’d with Patience and Calmness by Priam in this very Conference: Especially if we remember that Achilles had actually determin’d to restore the Body of Hector to Priam. I was therefore very well pleas’d to find that the Words in the Original would bear another Interpretation, and such a one as naturally solves the Difficulty. The Meaning of the Passage I fancy may be this: Priam perceiving that his address had mollify’d the Heart of Achilles, takes this Opportunity to persuade him to give over the War, and return home; especially since his Anger was sufficiently satisfy’d by the Fall of Hector. Immediately Achilles takes fire at this Proposal, and answers,
"Is it not enough that I have determin’d to restore thy Son? Ask no more, lest I retract that Resolution."
In this View we see a natural Reason for the sudden Passion of Achilles. What may perhaps strengthen this Conjecture is the Word [Greek]; and then the Sense will run thus; Since I have found so much Favour in thy Sight, as first to permit me to live, O wouldst thou still enlarge my Happiness, and return home to thy own Country! &c. This Opinion may be farther establish’d from what follows in the latter end of this Interview, where Achilles asks Priam how many Days he would request for the Interment of Hector? Achilles had refus’d to give over the war, but yet consents to intermit it a few Days; and then the Sense will be this,
"I will not consent to return home, but ask a time for a Cessation, and it shall be granted."
And what most strongly speaks for this Interpretation is the Answer of Priam, I ask, says he, eleven Days to bury my Son, and then let the War commence again, since it must be so, [Greek]; since you necessitate me to it; or since you will not be persuaded to leave these Shores.
Note XXXIV.
VERSE 706. While kindling Anger sparkled in his Eyes. ]
The Reader may be pleas’d to observe that this is the last Sally of the Resentment of Achilles; and the Poet judiciously describes him moderating it by his own Reflection: So that his Reason now prevails over his Anger, and the Design of the Poem is fully executed.
Note XXXV.
VERSE 708, 709. For know from Jove my Goddess Mother came. ]
The Injustice of La Motte’s Criticism (who blames Homer for representing Achilles so mercenary, as to enquire into the Price offer’d for Hector’s Body before he would restore it) will appear plainly from this Passage, where he makes Achilles expressly say, it is not for any other Reason that he delivers the Body, but that Heaven had directly commanded it. The Words are very full,
— [Greek]
Note XXXVI.
VERSE 757. Not thus did Niobe, &c. ]
Achilles, to comfort Priam, tells him a known History; which was very proper to work this Effect. Niobe had lost all her Children, Priam had some remaining. Niobe’s Children had been nine Days extended on the Earth, drown’d in their Blood, in the Sight of their People, without any one presenting himself to interr them: Hector has likewise been twelve Days, but in the midst of his Enemies; therefore ’tis no wonder that no one has paid him the last Duties. The Gods at last interr’d Niobe’s Children, and the Gods likewise are concern’d to procure honourable Funerals for Hector. Eustathius.
Note XXXVII.
VERSE 799. The royal Guest the Hero eyes, &c.]
The Poet omits no Opportunity of praising his Hero Achilles, and it is observable that he now commends him for his more amiable Qualities: He softens the terrible Idea we have conceiv’d of him, as a Warrior, with several Virtues of Humanity; and the angry, vindictive Soldier is become calm and compassionate. In this place he makes his very Enemy admire his Personage, and be astonish’d at his manly Beauty. So that tho’ Courage be his most distinguishing Character, yet Achilles is admirable both for the Endowments of Mind and Body.
[Greek]. The Sense of this Word differs in this place from that it usually bears: It does not imply [Greek], any reproachful Asperity of Language, but [Greek], the raising of a false Fear in the old Man, that he might not be concern’d at his being lodg’d in the outermost part of the Tent; and by this method he gives Priam an Opportunity of going away in the Morning without Observation. Eustathius.
Note XXXVIII.
VERSE 819. To ask our Counsel, or our Orders take. ]
The Poet here shews the Importance of Achilles in the Army; tho’ Agamemnon be the General, yet all the chief Commanders apply to him for Advice; and thus he promises Priam a Cessation of Arms for several Days, purely by his own Authority. The Method that Achilles took to confirm the Truth of the Cessation, agrees with the Custom which we use at this Day, he gave him his Hand upon it.
— [Greek]— Eustathius.
Note XXXIX.
VERSE 900. A melancholy Choir, &c.
This was a Custom generally receiv’d, and which passed from the Hebrews to the Greeks, Romans, and Asiaticks. There were Weepers by Profession, of both Sexes, who sung doleful Tunes round the Dead. Ecclesiasticus cap. 12. ℣. 5. When a Man shall go into the House of his Eternity, there shall encompass him Weepers. It appears from St. Matthew xi. 17. that Children were likewise employed in this Office. Dacier.
Note XL.
VERSE 906, &c. The Lamentations over Hector.]
The Poet judiciously makes Priam to be silent in this general Lamentation; he has already born a sufficient Share in these Sorrows, in the Tent of Achilles, and said what Grief can dictate to a Father and a King upon such a melancholy Subject. But he introduces three Women as chief Mourners, and speaks only in general of the Lamentation of the Men of Troy, an Excess of Sorrow being unmanly: Whereas these Women might with Decency indulge themselves in all the Lamentation that Fondness and Grief could suggest. The Wife, the Mother of Hector, and Helen, are the three Persons introduced; and tho’ they all mourn upon the same Occasion, yet their Lamentations are so different, that not a Sentence that is spoken by the one, could be made use of by the other: Andromache speaks like a tender Wife, Hecuba like a fond Mother, and Helen mourns with a Sorrow rising from Self-accusation: Andromache commends his Bravery, Hecuba his manly Beauty, and Helen his Gentleness and Humanity.
Homer is very concise in describing the Funeral of Hector, which was but a necessary piece of Conduct, after he had been so full in that of Patroclus.
Note XLI.
VERSE 394. Why gav’st thou not to me thy dying Hand, And why receiv’d not I thy last Command?
I have taken these two Lines from Mr. Congreve, whose Translation of this Part was one of his first Essays in Poetry. He has very justly render’d the Sense of [Greek]dictum prudens, which is meant of the Words of a dying Man, or one in some dangerous Exigence; at which times what is spoken is usually something of the utmost Importance, and deliver’d with the utmost Care: Which is the true Signification of the Epithet [Greek]in this place.
Note XLII.
We have now past thro’ the Iliad, and seen the Anger of Achilles, and the terrible Effects of it, at an end: As that only was the Subject of the Poem, and the Nature of Epic Poetry would not permit our Author to proceed to the Event of the War, it may perhaps be acceptable to the common Reader to give a short Account of what happen’d to Troy and the chief Actors in this Poem, after the Conclusion of it.
I need not mention that Troy was taken soon after the Death of Hector, by the Stratagem of the wooden Horse, the Particulars of which are describ’d by Virgil in the second Book of the Aeneis. Achilles fell before Troy, by the Hand of Paris, by the Shot of an Arrow in his Heel, as Hector had prophesied at his Death, Lib. 22.
The unfortunate Priam was kill’d by Pyrrhus the Son of Achilles. Ajax after the Death of Achilles had a Contest with Ulysses for the Armour of Vulcan, but being defeated in his Aim, he slew himself thro’ Indignation.
Helen, after the Death of Paris, married Deïphobus his Brother, and at the taking of Troy betray’d him, in order to reconcile herself to Menelaus her first Husband, who receiv’d her again into Favour.
Agamemnon at his return was barbarously murther’d by Aegysthus at the Instigation of Clytaemnestra his Wife, who in his Absence had dishonour’d his Bed with Aegysthus. Diomed after the Fall of Troy was expell’d his own Countrey, and scarce escap’d with Life from his adulterous Wife Aegiale; but at last was receiv’d by Daunus in Apulia, and shar’d his Kingdom: ’Tis uncertain how he died.
Nestor liv’d in Peace, with his Children, in Pylos his native Countrey.
Ulysses also after innumerable Troubles by Sea and Land, at last return’d in Safety to Ithaca, which is the Subject of Homer’s Odysses.