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POPE'S 


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EDITED    WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOTES 


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4  publishers'  announcement. 

the  essay,  is  shown  in  the  Introduction  the  difference  between  the 
oratorical  and  the  essayistic  style. 

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son ;  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost,"  Books  I.  and  II. ;  Pope's  "  Iliad," 
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gestions which  have  been  presented. 


INTRODUCTION 


Many  of  Pope's  writings  give  no  better  idea  of  his  char- 
acter than  of  his  personal  appearance.  We  read  Pope's 
"Essay  on  Man/'  and  there  rises  up  before  us  a  majestic 
figure,  an  author  of  strong  frame,  and  with  a  mind  above 
the  petty  ambitions  of  the  world. 

But  Alexander  Pope  was  a  dwarf,  contorted  and  thin, 
sickly  when  an  infant,  and  at  maturity  obliged  to  wear  a 
canvas  jacket  in  order  to  stand  erect;  exacting  with  ser- 
vants, he  was  whimsical  and  splenetic;  ambitious  of  literary 
success,  he  was  jealous  of  other  writers,  and  wrote  the 
"  Dunciad  "  to  avenge  himself  on  his  literary  enemies :  yet 
he  wrote  most  exquisite  verses  ;  in  him  classical  art  found 
its  center;  laborious  study  made  him  master  of  perfect 
expression ;  and  Byron  said  of  him,  "  As  to  Pope,  I  have 
always  regarded  him  as  the  greatest  name  in  our  poetry." 

If  he  wrote  libels  and  then  disavowed  them,  he  could 
affect  the  noblest  sentiments  and  defend  them.  His 
"  Essay  on  Man  "  has  furnished  maxims  which  have  become 
proverbs.  If  he  was  melted  by  a  little  regard  shown  to 
him  by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  he  could  enact  the  part  of  a 
despiser  of  the  great,  especially  in  his  letters,  which  he 
wrote  to  display  his  rhetorical  skill,  and  which  he  pub- 
lished on  the  flimsy  pretext  that  some  one  might  misrepre- 
sent him. 

5  • 


b  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Macaulay  had  no  patience  with  him  as  a  man,  although 
forced  to  admire  him  as  a  poet.  He  says  of  him  (in  his 
" Essay  on  Addison")  that  "to  injure,  to  insult  by  lying 
and  equivocating,  was  the  habit  of  his  life;  [he]  puffed 
himself,  and  abused  his  enemies." 

His  diseased  body  was  but  the  receptacle  of  his  diseased 
mind.  Pope  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  had  no  real  re- 
ligious convictions.  In  politics,  he  wrote,  "I  think  no 
further  than  how  to  preserve  the  peace  of  my  life  in  any 
government  under  which  I  live."  He  lived  simply  for  his 
art,  and  fed  on  vanity. 

He  was  born  in  London,  1688,  and  was  a  sickly  child, 
with  a  pleasing  voice,  which  gave  him  the  name  of  "  The 
Little  Nightingale";  but,  says  Dr.  Johnson  in  his  "Lives  of 
the  Poets,"  "  the  mildness  of  his  mind  ended  with  his 
childhood."  When  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  he  became 
a  lover  of  books.  At  eight,  under  the  care  of  a  Eomish 
priest,  he  was  taught  Greek  and  Latin.  He  read  Ogilby's 
translation  of  Homer  and  Sandy's  Ovid.  He  framed  a  play 
from  Ogilby,  which  his  schoolfellows  acted,  and  he  also 
translated  one  quarter  of  the  "  Metamorphoses "  of  Ovid. 

At  twelve  he  formed  a  plan  of  study  for  himself,  and 
determined  to  be  a  poet.  He  made  Dryden  his  model,  and 
was  introduced,  while  yet  a  boy,  to  the  poet,  in  a  London 
coffeehouse,  much  to  his  delight.  Dryden  died  in  1700; 
before  this,  Pope  had  written  his  "  Ode  on  Solitude,"  which 
Dr.  Johnson  thought  less  meritorious  than  a  poem  of  Cow- 
ley's, written  at  the  same  age.  At  fourteen,  he  made  a 
version  of  the  "  First  Book  of  the  Thebais,"  which  he  after- 
wards revised  and   published.     He  also  rendered  Chaucer 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

into  modern  English.  Before  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age, 
he  wrote  comedies,  tragedies,  and  an  epic  poem,  and 
"  thought  himself  the  greatest  genius  that  ever  was."  All 
these  youthful  productions  he  afterwards  destroyed. 

It  was  not  until  he  had  passed  his  sixteenth  birthday 
that  his  life  as  an  author  began.  Addison  made  his  ac- 
quaintance when  Pope  was  twenty-five,  his  powers  having 
then  ripened  into  full  maturity.  He  had  published  his 
" Pastorals"  and  the  famous  "Preface."  He  had  varied 
the  quiet  life  of  his  father's  home  at  Binfield,  in  Windsor 
Forest,  by  visits  to  Co  vent  Garden,  where  the  wits  of  the 
day  were  accustomed  to  assemble ;  and  in  1711,  he  published 
the  "  Essay  on  Criticism,"  which  displays  an  acquaintance 
with  ancient  and  modern  learning  and  a  discriminating 
taste  which  usually  are  attained  only  by  the  longest  experi- 
ence among  men  and  books. 

His  humorous  poem,  "  The  Eape  of  the  Lock,"  appeared 
in  1812.  It  was  suggested  by  an  incident  at  a  house 
where  he  was  a  guest,  —  the  cutting  of  a  ringlet  of  Mrs.  Fer- 
more's  hair  by  Lord  Peter.  Taine  speaks  of  it  as  "  buffoon- 
ery in  a  noble  style " ;  Dr.  Johnson  thought  it  "  the  most 
airy,  most  ingenious,  and  most  delightful  of  all  his  compo- 
sitions "  ;  but  Swift  declared  it  to  be  "  an  insidious  pam- 
phlet against  the  religion  of  the  state."  However,  it  gave  the 
author  great  renown,  and  was  quickly  followed  by  other 
productions  :  "  The  Temple  of  Fame  "  ;  the  "  Epistle  of 
Eloisa  to  Abelard,"  which  Byron  preferred  to  the  celebrated 
ode  of  Sappho,  but  which  Taine  read  and  was  bored ;  and 
"  Windsor  Forest,"  written  at  Binfield  and  revised  later. 
In  1713,  he  projected  his  version  of  the  "Iliad,"  of  which 


8  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

the  first  four  books  appeared  in  1715,  the  whole  being  com- 
pleted in  1720. 

By  this  work  he  realized  a  sum  which  placed  him  in  very 
comfortable  circumstances,  and  enabled  him  to  look  down 
upon  the  "  beggarly  scribblers  in  the  pay  of  publishers."  He 
lived  in  his  pretty  house  at  Twickenham,  took  great  pleasure 
in  his  garden,  and,  with  many  poetical  schemes  in  his  head, 
wrote,  revised,  and  sent  to  the  press  numerous  volumes, 
among  which  was  a  version  of  the  " Odyssey"  of  Homer. 

Voltaire,  being  in  England  in  1725,  sent  Pope  a  sympa- 
thetic  letter  after  an  accident  by  which  the  poet  lost  the 
use  of  two  fingers ;  and,  in  spite  of  tilts  in  print  with  other 
authors,  and  his  constant  suspicion  of  the  motives  of  his 
friends,  the  little  man,  whose  chair  had  to  be  raised  at 
table,  became  the  pet  of  the  aristocracy,  the  libeler  of  his 
friends,  the  "realist  under  a  classic  wig," — but,  without 
doubt,  the  English  poet  whose  genius  and  diligence  raised 
him  to  the  highest  rank. 

Pope  died  May  30,  1744,  after  suffering  five  years  with 
asthma,  having  expressed  his  undoubted  belief  in  a  future 
state.  While  he  was  parsimonious  in  domestic  matters,  he 
gave  away  sometimes  as  much  as  one  hundred  pounds  a  year 
in  charity,  and  now  and  then  he  would  give  a  sumptuous  din- 
ner to  his  friends.  He  was  a  strange  character,  with  few 
intimate  friends,  a  host  of  enemies,  but  always  well  satisfied 
with  himself  and  his  works.  Vain,  proud  of  his  riches, 
and  feeling  his  own  importance,  his  life  was  a  triumph  over 
infirmity  of  body,  if  not  over  infirmities  of  mind  and  dis- 
position. 

Eew  now  understand  the  allusions  in  the  "  Dunciad,"  or 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

study  the  system  of  ethics  in  Pope's  "Essay  on  Man"; 
his  "Satires,"  "Dialogues/"  and  "Imitations  of  Horace" 
are  seldom  read  ;  his  character  and  his  foibles  are  generally 
unknown  or  ignored;  but  his  splendid  genius  rests  on  the 
impregnable  foundation  of  a  few  of  his  best  works,  among 
which  stands  his  translation  of  the  "Iliad"  of  Homer, 
which,  says  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  is  "the  noblest  version 
of  poetry  the  world  has  ever  seen." 

THE   POETIC   PARAPHRASE. 

Pope's  "  Iliad."  —  Books  I.,  VI.,  XXII.,  XXIV. 

In  the  introduction  to  a  London  edition  of  Pope's  transla- 
tion of  Homer's  "Iliad,"  the  editor,  Rev.  T.  A.  Buckley, 
writes :  "  We  must  be  content  to  look  at  it  as  a  most 
delightful  work  in  itself,  —  a  work  which  is  as  much  a  part 
of  English  literature  as  Homer  himself  is  of  Greek.  Pope 
was  not  a  Grecian.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  his 
whole  work  bears  the  impress  of  a  disposition  to  be  satis- 
fied with  the  general  sense,  rather  than  of  diving  deeply 
into  the  minute  and  delicate  features  of  language.  Hence, 
his  whole  work  is  to  be  looked  upon  rather  as  an  elegant 
paraphrase  than  a  translation." 

Pope  himself,  in  his  "  Preface,"  also  writes :  "  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.  .  .  .  The  fire  of  the 
poem  is  what  a  translator  should  principally  regard." 

Pope's  translation  of  the  "Iliad"  is  placed  in  this  series 


10  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

of  English  Classics  because,  as  is  shown  above,  it  is  the 
production  of  a  poet  who  has  expressed  the  sense  of  the 
original  after  a  manner  of  his  own,  not  only  in  elegant 
style,  but  also  with  great  freedom.  Such  a  version  is  called 
a  Paraphrase,  because,  to  use  an  expression  of  Dryden,  it  is 
"  a  translation  with  latitude,  the  author's  words  being  not 
so  strictly  followed  as  his  sense." 

This  translation  will  be  treated,  therefore,  as  a  paraphras- 
tic poem  5  not  to  show  wherein  it  differs  from  a  literal 
translation,  but  to  consider  it  as  it  conveys  to  the  reader 
the  spirit  and  sense  of  the  original. 

The  profit  in  the  study  of  this  work  as  a  poetic  para- 
phrase is  greatly  enhanced  to  a  student  who  understands 
the  Greek  language,  and  reads  Homer  in  the  original  with 
an  appreciation  of  his  style.  But,  as  an  English  classic, 
Pope's  translation  has  a  value  to  those  who  are  not  Greek 
scholars,  because  of  its  pure,  rhythmical  English,  its  u  ora- 
torical movement,"  its  grand  style,  and  its  fair  rendering,  in 
the  main,  of  one  of  the  noblest  epics  ever  written  in  any 
language.  To  place  before  the  average  English  reader  a 
poem  like  that  of  Pope,  with  its  fascinating  language,  its 
musical  cadence,  and  its  rich  versification,  is  a  boon  which 
can  be  fully  appreciated  only  by  those  who  have  tried  to 
wade  through  a  dreary  literal  translation,  which  gives 
equivalent  words,  but  nothing  of  the  poetic  force  and  feel- 
ing of  the  original. 

The  four  books  which  are  included  in  this  volume  have 
been  selected  from  the  twenty-four  which  comprise  the 
whole  work,  with  a  discrimination  that  can  readily  be  seen. 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

The  story  of  the  "  Iliad/'  as  a  whole,  is  the  wrath  of 
Achilles.  The  author  is  not  giving  a  history  of  the  Trojan 
War ;  that  contest  (between  the  Greeks,  angry  at  the  abduc- 
tion of  Helen,  and  the  Trojans,  who  have  received  and  are 
determined  to  defend  her  abductor)  is  only  the  background 
of  the  poetic  picture.  But  the  great  actor,  whose  godlike 
prowess  equals  his  wrath,  looms  up  in  bold  relief  before  all 
other  figures  in  the  scene,  and  becomes  the  central  object 
on  which  the  eye  fastens  itself  throughout  the  entire  pano- 
rama of  battles  between  men  and  men,  men  and  gods,  gods 
and  goddesses. 

These  four  books  contain  all  that  is  needed  to  give  the 
student  a  good  idea  of  the  story.  The  First  Book  opens 
in  the  tenth  year  of  the  siege  of  Troy.  Without  any 
explanation  of  the  cause  of  the  war,  it  describes  the  origin 
of  the  quarrel  between  Agamemnon  and  Achilles  over  the 
beautiful  captive  girl,  Brise'is.  Agamemnon,  as  absolute 
commander  of  the  Greeks,  succeeds  in  obtaining  possession 
of  the  fair  captive.  Achilles  sulks  in  his  tent,  and  refuses 
to  use  his  martial  strength  against  the  Trojans.  Thetis 
prevails  on  Jove  to  grant  success,  at  least  for  a  time,  to  the 
Trojan  arms.  Twenty-two  days  are  consumed  by  what  is 
described  in  this  First  Book. 

During  the  period  which  ensues  before  the  Sixth  Book 
opens,  Jupiter  by  a  deceitful  vision  persuades  Agamemnon 
to  lead  the  Greeks,  without  Achilles  and  his  warriors,  into 
battle.  A  single  combat  between  Menelaus  and  Paris  is 
agreed  upon  for  the  determination  of  the  war.  Paris  is 
rescued  in  a  cloud  by  Venus.  The  gods  deliberate  in  coun- 
cil.    Some  of  the  Trojan  warriors  attack  the  Greeks.     The 


12  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

battle  joins,  and  great  numbers  are  slain.  Diomed  per- 
forms wonders;  Mars  rallies  the  Trojans;  Juno  and 
Minerva  resist  Mars.  All  this  is  tributary  to  the  Sixth 
Book,  which  gives  the  episodes  of  Glaucus  and  Diomed  and 
of  Hector  and  Andromache,  while  Achilles  still  keeps  his 
sullen  mood. 

These  episodes  are  closely  related  to  the  main  purpose 
of  the  poem,  —  the  wrath  of  Achilles,  —  since  the  actors  in 
them  will  be  largely  connected  with  Achilles  in  the  scenes 
which  are  to  follow.  Therefore,  the  whole  of  the  Sixth 
Book  is  selected  and  given  in  this  volume. 

Between  the  Sixth  Book  and  the  Sixteenth,  there  are 
more  battles,  strategic  movements,  doughty  deeds  of  war- 
riors and  various  maneuvers  on  the  part  of  the  gods, 
Achilles  remaining  as  implacable  as  before.  In  the  Six- 
teenth Book  occurs  the  death  of  Achilles'  bosom  friend, 
Patroclus,  who  is  slain  by  Hector.  Then  follow,  in  Books 
XVII.-XXL,  the  struggle  to  obtain  the  body  of  Patroclus, 
the  grief  of  Achilles  over  his  friend,  the  solemn  reconcili- 
ation between  Achilles  and  Agamemnon,  the  return  to 
Achilles  of  the  captive  Briseis,  and  the  battles  in  which 
Achilles  performs  prodigies  of  valor. 

The  Twenty  second  Book  is  more  directly  connected  with 
the  main  purpose  of  the  poem,  in  that  it  brings  Achilles 
face  to  face  with  Hector,  the  slayer  of  Patroclus.  Achilles 
pursues  Hector,  who  flees  from  him  and  is  at  last  slain 
in  mortal  combat.  The  victor  drags  the  body  of  Hector 
around  the  walls  of  Troy,  and  the  Greeks  chant  the 
paean,  — 

"  Hector  is  dead,  and  Ilion  is  no  more." 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

The  wrath  of  Achilles,  having  occasioned  untold  calamities 
to  the  Greeks,  now  being  assuaged,  the  godlike  warrior 
becomes  the  savior  of  his  countrymen. 

The  Twenty-third  Book  merely  relates  the  funeral  games 
in  honor  of  Patroclus,  and  we  come,  in  the  Twenty -fourth 
and  last  Book,  to  the  conclusion  of  the  theme  which  has 
dominated  the  entire  story.  Achilles'  wrath  changes  to 
compassion ;  he  yields  the  body  of  Hector  to  the  tears  and 
prayers  of  Priam,  this  act  of  humanity  giving  proof  that 
the  son  of  Thetis  is  no  greater  as  a  hero  in  arms  and 
mighty  in  his  wrath  than  he  is  generous  and  compassion- 
ate as  a  conqueror  in  the  hour  of  victory. 

"  Then  gave  his  hand  at  parting,  to  prevent 
The  old  man's  fears,  and  turned  within  the  tent." 

XXIV.  840. 

Thus  ends  the  "Iliad"  of  Homer:  for  the  downfall  of 
Troy,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  Second  Book  of  Virgil's 
"  ^Eneid  " ;  for  the  death  of  Achilles,  to  the  Twenty-second 
Book  of  the  same  work ;  and  to  the  "  Odyssey  "  of  Homer 
for  the  innumerable  wanderings  and  the  safe  return  of  Ulys- 
ses to  Ithaca.  The  "  Cyclic  Poets  "  also  give  further  par- 
ticulars of  those  who  survived  the  fall  of  Troy.  But  the 
fifty  days,  the  period  of  action  described  in  the  "  Iliad," 
are  over,  and  Homer  has  adhered  to  his  theme,  the  reader 
having  no  right  to  expect  more  of  him  than  his  declared 
purpose  to  sing  of  the  godlike  Achilles  and  his  wrath. 

We  come  now  to  a  consideration  of  the  free  translation 
and  versification  of  Pope's  paraphrase  of  Homer's  "Iliad." 


14  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

As  to  the  translation,  Pope  himself  acknowledged  his 
version  to  be  a  very  free  paraphrase  of  the  original.  "  The 
chief  help  of  Pope  [says  Dr.  Johnson]  in  this  arduous 
undertaking  was  drawn  from  the  versions  of  Dryden.  .  .  . 
Pope  searched  the  pages  of  Dryden  for  happy  combina- 
tions of  heroic  diction ;  but  it  will  not  be  denied  that  he 
added  much  to  what  he  found.  His  version  may  be  said 
to  have  tuned  the  English  tongue." 

"  I  suppose  [continues  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  "  Life  of  Pope  "] 
many  readers  of  the  English  '  Iliad/  when  they  have  been 
touched  with  some  unexpected  beauty  of  the  lighter  kind, 
have  tried  to  enjoy  it  in  the  original,  where,  alas !  it  was 
not  to  be  found." 

Kichard  Bentley,  the  eminent  English  divine  and  philol- 
ogist, once  said  to  Pope  (in  answer  to  a  veiled  request  for 
his  opinion  of  the  translation),  "  Oh,  aye,  now  I  recollect ; 
your  translation  —  it  is  a  pretty  poem,  Mr.  Pope,  but  you 
must  not  call  it  Homer." 

"To  a  thousand  cavils  [Dr.  Johnson  concludes],  one 
answer  is  sufficient :  the  purpose  of  a  writer  is  to  be  read ; 
Pope  wrote  for  his  own  age  and  his  own  nation ;  he  knew 
that  it  was  necessary  to  color  the  images  and  point  the 
sentiments  of  his  author;  he  therefore  made  him  graceful, 
but  lost  some  of  his  sublimity." 

Matthew  Arnold  writes,  as  a  critic,  that  "between  Pope 
and  Homer  there  is  interposed  the  mist  of  Pope's  literary, 
artificial  manner."  He  thinks  Pope's  paraphrase  "extrava- 
gantly free  "  ;  that  Homer's  thought  "  has  passed  through  a 
literary  and  rhetorical  crucible  and  come  out  highly  intel- 
lectualized."    Homer  deals  with  common  facts  in  a  matter- 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

of-f act  way ;  Pope  gives  rhetorical  descriptions,  when  plain 
statements  would  more  exactly  express  the  original. 

Strangely  enough,  Pope  himself  has  said,  in  his  "  Preface," 
"  It  is  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  foot- 
steps." In  Pope's  case,  however,  the  pupil  did  not  always 
follow  his  teacher. 

At  the  time  when  Pope  wrote  his  poem  of  the  "  Iliad," 
there  were  but  three  English  versions,  those  of  Chapman, 
Hobbes,  and  Ogilby.  He  said,  in  answer  to  some  friendly 
criticisms  of  his  version,  "  The  greater  part  of  those  devia- 
tions from  the  Greek  which  you  have  observed,  I  was  led 
into  by  Chapman  and  Hobbes,  who  are,  it  seems,  as  much 
celebrated  for  their  knowledge  of  the  original  as  they 
are  decried  for  the  badness  of  their  translations ;  yet  their 
authority,  joined  to  the  knowledge  of  my  own  imperfect- 
ness  in  the  language,  overruled  me." 

From  these  criticisms  and  the  author's  own  acknowledg- 
ment of  a  lack  of  critical  understanding  of  the  beauties  of 
Homer  in  the  original,  the  conclusion  is  forced  upon  us, 
that  it  is  a  great  risk  to  attempt  a  translation,  or  even 
a  paraphrase,  without  better  equipment  than  Pope  pos- 
sessed. 

But  if  the  result  does  not  give  us  Homer,  it  may  yet 
have  so  much  in  it  of  the  fresh,  vigorous,  and  rapid  quality 
of  Homeric  verse,  or  present  so  much  merit  of  its  own  in 
other  respects,  as  will  entitle  the  author  to  a  high  degree 
of  praise  for  his  work. 

The  "prodigious  talent"  of  Pope  has  made  his  version 


16  ALEXANDER  POPE. 

of  the  "  Iliad "  an  English  classic,  even  if  it  cannot  hold 
the  first  rank  as  a  translation. 

At  least,  Pope  has  caught  the  spirit  and  the  force,  the 
rapidity  of  movement,  and  the  sense  of  Homer.  If  the 
perfect  simplicity  of  the  Homeric  style  is  lacking,  much 
of  its  nobleness  remains;  and  we  gain  a  rhetorical  finish 
which  the  Augustan  age  of  Queen  Anne  and  the  Victorian 
era  of  the  nineteenth  century  demand.  Where  one  per- 
son in  our  day  would  read,  from  a  sense  of  duty,  a  literal 
translation  of  Homer's  "  Iliad,"  hundreds  read  Pope's  para- 
phrase with  positive  pleasure. 

Of  course  there  is  no  modern  poet  that  can  compare  with 
Homer  in  his  grand  and  simple  style;  in  this  the  ancient 
bard  is  inimitable,  and  therefore  will  hold  his  supremacy 
in  literature  as  Michelangelo  does  in  art.  Even  Milton's 
sublime  style,  severe  and  classical,  cannot  vie  with  Homer's 
in  simplicity  and  directness.  Therefore,  a  paraphrase  like 
Pope's  "  Iliad "  must  have  some  special  and  extraordinary 
features  of  its  own  to. enable  it  to  live  among  the  nobler 
works  of  modern  times. 

And  these  peculiar  features  we  find  in  passages  of  strong 
emotion,  as  in  Book  XXIV.  634-646;  in  passages  of  ora- 
torical movement,  as  in  Book  XXII.  333-348;  also  in 
Book  I.  251-260,  which  depicts  Achilles'  conflict  with 
himself  in  the  midst  of  his  wrath ;  in  Book  VI.  604-648, 
which  narrates  the  parting  between  Hector  and  Andromache, 
and  in  Book  XXII.  23-30,  which  gives  the  angry  response 
of  Achilles  to  Apollo. 

Many  other  passages  might  be  cited,  not  only  from  the 
four   books   included   in   this  volume,  but   also   from   the 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

twenty  books  of  the  " Iliad"  not  herein  given;  for  ex- 
ample, Achilles'  address  to  his  horses,  one  of  which,  finding 
voice  miraculously,  prophesies  his  master's  fate  (Book  XIX.). 
The  student  should  seek  out  for  himself  these  special  ex- 
cellences of  Pope's  version,  remembering  to  credit  their 
modern  author  with  some  of  the  poetical  fancy  which  is 
not  found  in  the  ancient  poem. 

(It  is  perhaps  necessary  to  say  here,  that  the  question 
of  the  real  authorship  of  the  so-called  works  of  Homer  has 
not  been  raised  in  this  consideration  of  Pope's  version; 
that  question  is  left  for  the  student  to  answer  for  himself 
from  the  many  sources  of  information  within  his  reach.) 

As  to  its  versification,  Pope's  "  Iliad  "  undoubtedly  suf- 
fers as  a  translation,  from  the  measure  which  its  author 
selected ;  this  measure  was  the  heroic  couplet,  in  place  of 
the  hexameter  line  or  blank  verse.  If  he  had  aimed  at  a 
perfect  translation,  that  is,  a  literal  version  of  Homer 
(which  he  did  not),  then  he  would  have  endeavored  to 
make  his  English  conform  as  far  as  possible  to  the  Greek. 

He  chose,  however,  the  literary  manner  in  which  he 
excelled.  Although  this  style  may  be  called  artificial  and 
redundant,  it  enabled  him  to  give  a  magical  effect  to  his 
master  work.  By  a  different  choice,  it  is  not  probable  that 
he  would  have  escaped  Bentley's  criticism  that  his  poem 
was  not  Homer ;  nor  would  he,  in  all  probability,  have  pro- 
duced one  of  the  most  fascinating  renderings  that  any 
English  author  has  given  us  of  Homer's  " Iliad"  in  a 
modern  English  dress. 

It   may  be  true,  as  has   been   charged  by  critics,  that 


18  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Pope's  couplet,  with  its  endings  in  rhyme,  changes  the 
style  of  Homer  very  considerably ;  in  Homer  there  are  no 
such  corresponding  cadences.  It  may  also  be  good  scholar- 
ship to  affirm  that  a  translator,  even  though  a  poet,  must 
try  to  conform  to  the  rules  of  critical  scholars,  who  alone 
are  supposed  to  have  the  means  of  judging  style. 

Apply  these  tests,  and  Pope's  versification  lacks  a  degree 
of  Homeric  strength  and  beauty.  But  take  the  poem,  as  it 
was  intended  to  be,  as  a  paraphrase  in  English  and  nothing 
more,  and  who  will  deny  that  the  poet  has  at  least  adapted 
the  elaborate  style  at  his  command,  with  a  large  measure 
of  success,  to  the  various  sentiments  and  descriptions  which 
Homer  profusely  introduces  into  his  epic  ? 

We  have  never  yet  had  either  a  translation  or  a  para- 
phrase of  Homer,  which  really  reproduces  the  "  Iliad  "  as 
it  was  written  in  Greek.  To  adjust  the  English  language 
to  such  a  difficult  language  as  the  Greek,  is,  perhaps,  an 
impossibility  either  in  poetry  or  in  prose. 

Matthew  Arnold  thinks  that  an  English  poetical  version  of 
Homer  should  be  made  in  hexameters.  The  hexameter,  in 
which  the  "  Iliad  "  and  the  "  iEneid  "  are  written,  is  a  verse, 
or  line,  which  has  six  feet,  and,  as  every  student  knows,  the 
first  four  feet  may  be  either  dactyls  or  spondees,  but  the 
fifth  must  be  a  dactyl  and  the  sixth  a  spondee. 

Now  Arnold  says  that  the  well-known  German  transla- 
tion of  Voss,  in  hexameters,  is  heavy  in  construction  of 
sentences  and  in  selection  of  its  words,  and  that  it  is  far 
from  creating  in  us  the  impression  created  by  the  Greek. 

If  Pope  had  written  his  version  in  hexameters,  the  pauses 
which  it  was  his  custom  to  place  on  the  fourth  or   sixth 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

syllable  of  each  line,  making  the  style  somewhat  monoto- 
nous, would  have  been  avoided.  But  would  this  change  have 
"created  in  us  the  impression  created  by  the  Greek"?  It 
is  by  the  trained  ear  that  the  correct  rhythm  of  a  line  is 
felt,  and  is  it  certain  that  the  longer  line  would  make  the 
English  more  like  the  Greek  than  the  shorter  one  ? 

Then  as  to  the  words  to  be  used.  Professor  Sayce  tells  us 
that  the  language  in  which  the  "  Iliad  "  and  "  Odyssey  "  were 
written  is  a  very  artificial  one,  a  sort  of  curious  mosaic,  in 
which  fragments  of  iEolic,  Attic,  and  Ionic  are  embedded 
side  by  side.  He  also  says  that  the  contraction  of  syllables, 
during  the  age  of  Attic  influence,  resulted  in  various  cor- 
ruptions of  the  text  in  order  to  restore  the  violated  meter. 

Under  these  conditions,  can  we  suppose  that  an  English 
author,  even  if  he  used  the  most  suitable  words  in  the 
language,  could  conform  to  the  peculiar  vocabulary  of  the 
Homeric  diction,  or  imitate  with  success  the  many  styles 
and  subtle  differences  of  the  Greek  dialects  in  which  the 
epic  of  Homer  appeared  when  it  reached  the  form  in  which 
.it  has  come  down  to  us  ? 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  some  grave  faults  in 
Pope's  paraphrase.  The  monotony  of  its  pauses  has  al- 
ready been  mentioned  and  is  patent  to  any  one  who  reads 
it  aloud.  The  rhymes  are  limited  in  range,  as  may  readily 
be  seen;  neither  are  they  always  poetically  correct;  but 
that  this  paraphrase  of  the  " Iliad"  is  a  failure  cannot 
be  allowed  by  any  one  who  takes  into  consideration  what 
the  poet  set  himself  to  do,  and  what  he  has  actually  done. 

Of  course,  one  must  be  able  to  read  the  Greek  with  great 
facility,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  full  force  and  simplicity 


20  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

of  its  movement  and  the  sublimity  of  its  periods.  But  we 
may  well  rejoice  that,  even  with  the  ten-syllable  couplet 
of  Pope,  with  his  peculiar  pauses  and  separations  in  the 
lines,  and  with  some  glaring  variations  in  the  translation, 
we  still  have,  if  not  the  original  effect  of  Homer,  an  in- 
teresting and  superb  work,  which  formed  an  epoch  in  the 
epic  style  of  English  poetry. 

Therefore,  as  in  ancient  times  the  persons  of  bards  were 
inviolable,  under  the  protection  of  Apollo  and  inspired  by 
Calliope,  why  may  not  the  reputation  of  modern  poets  of 
acknowledged  genius  be  held  sacred,  although  in  fainter 
tones  they  echo  for  us  the  heroic  numbers  which  filled  the 
heroes  of  old  with  the  courage  of  the  gods? 

Only  in  this  spirit  of  fidelity  to  genius  can  the  rival 
schools  of  critics  join  in  a  common  purpose  to  elevate  the 
art,  and  say,  as  Diomed  to  Grlaucus :  — 

"  Now  change  we  arms  and  prove  to  either  host 
We  guard  the  friendship  of  the  line  we  boast." 

For  the  dramatis  personce  of  the  poem,  see  page  114. 


THE   ILIAD 


THE   ARGUMENT. 

THE   CONTENTION   OF   ACHILLES   AND   AGAMEMNON. 

In  the  war  of  Troy,  the  Greeks,  having  sacked  some  of  the  neigh- 
boring towns  and  taken  from  thence  two  beautiful  captives,  Chry- 
sei's  and  Brise'is,  allotted  the  first  to  Agamemnon,  and  the  last  to 
Achilles.  Chryses,  the  father  of  Chrysei's,  and  priest  of  Apollo, 
comes  to  the  Grecian  camp  to  ransom  her ;  with  which  the  action  of 
the  poem  opens,  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  siege.  The  priest,  being 
refused  and  insolently  dismissed  by  Agamemnon,  entreats  for  ven- 
geance 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  Chryseis.  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  Brise'is  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  and  himself 
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  Ethiopians  —  Thetis  preferring  her 
petition  on  his  return.  The  scene  lies  first  in  the  Grecian  camp,  then 
changes  to  Chrysa,  and  lastly  to  Olympus. 

Achilles'  wrath,  to  Greece  the  direful  spring 
Of  woes  unnumber'd,  heav'nly  goddess,  sing ! 

21 


22  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

That  wrath  which  hurl'd  to  Pluto's  gloomy  reign 

The  souls  of  mighty  chiefs  untimely  slain : 

Whose  limbs,  unburied  on  the  naked  shore,  5 

Devouring  dog  and  hungry  vultures  tore : 

Since  great  Achilles  and  Atrides  strove, 

Such  was  the  sovereign  doom,  and  such  the  will  of  Jove ! 

Declare,  0  Muse  !  in  what  ill-fated  hour 
Sprung  the  fierce  strife,  from  what  offended  power  ?  10 

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  defied, 
And  for  the  king's  offense  the  people  died. 

For  Chryses  sought  with  costly  gifts  to  gain  15 

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  scepter  and  the  laurel  crown. 
He  sued  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,  25 

Safe  to  the  pleasures  of  your  native  shore. 
But  oh !  relieve  a  wretched  parent's  pain, 
And  give  Chryse'is  to  these  arms  again ; 
If  mercy  fail,  yet  let  my  presents  move, 
And  dread  avenging  Phoebus,  son  of  Jove."  30 

The  Greeks  in  shouts  their  joint  assent  declare, 
The  priest  to  rev'rence  and  release  the  fair. 
Not  so  Atrides  :  he,  with  kingly  pride, 
Eepuls'd  the  sacred  sire,  and  thus  replied  : 

"  Hence  on  thy  life,  and  fly  these  hostile  plains,  35 

Nor  ask,  presumptuous,  what  the  king  detains ; 
Hence,  with  thy  laurel  crown  and  golden  rod, 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  23 

Nor  trust  too  far  those  ensigns  of  thy  god. 

Mine  is  thy  daughter,  priest,  and  shall  remain  — 

And  prayers,  and  tears,  and  bribes  shall  plead  in  vain  —   40 

Till  time  shall  rifle  every  youthful  grace, 

And  age  dismiss  her  from  my  cold  embrace ; 

In  daily  labors  of  the  loom  em  ploy' d, 

Or  doom'd  to  deck  the  bed  she  once  enjoy'd. 

Hence  then  !  to  Argos  shall  the  maid  retire,  45 

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,  not  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 : 

"  0  Smintheus  !  sprung  from  fair  Latona's  line, 
Thou  guardian  power  of  Cilia  the  divine, 
Thou  source  of  light !  whom  Tenedos  adores,  55 

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."  60 

Thus  Chryses  pray'd :  the  f av'ring  power  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,  65 

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.  70 

For  nine  long  nights  through  all  the  dusky  air 
The  pyres  thick-flaming  shot  a  dismal  glare. 


24  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

But  ere  the  tenth,  revolving  day  was  run, 

Inspired  by  Juno,  Thetis'  godlike  son 

Convened  to  council  all  the  Grecian  train ;  75 

For  much  the  goddess  mourn'd  her  heroes  slain. 

Th?  assembly  seated,  rising  o'er  the  rest, 

Achilles  thus  the  king  of  men  address'd : 

"  Why  leave  we  not  the  fatal  Trojan  shore, 
And  measure  back  the  seas  we  crossed  before  ?  80 

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  wasteful  vengeance  to  remove  85 

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."  90 

He  said,  and  sat :  when  Chalcas  thus  replied, 
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  95 

Thus  spoke  the  prudence  and  the  fears  of  age : 

"  Belov'd  of  Jove,  Achilles  !  wouldst  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.  100 

For  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  though  we  deem  the  short-liv'd  fury  past,  105 

'Tis  sure,  the  mighty  will  revenge  at  last." 

To  whom  Pelides  :  "  From  thy  inmost  soul 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  25 

Speak  what  thou  know'st,  and  speak  without  control. 

Ev'n  by  that  god  I  swear,  who  rules  the  day, 

To  whom  thy  hands  the  vows  of  Greece  convey,  110 

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,  115 

The  king  of  kings,  shall  touch  that  sacred  head." 

Encourag'd  thus,  the  blameless  man  replies : 
"  Nor  vows  unpaid,  nor  slighted  sacrifice, 
But  he,  our  chief,  provok'd  the  raging  pest, 
Apollo's  vengeance  for  his  injur'd  priest.  120 

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,  125 

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  eye-balls  flashed  the  living  fire.  130 

"  Augur  accurs'd !  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,  135 

To  teach  the  Greeks  to  murmur  at  their  lord  ? 
For  this  with  falsehoods  is  my  honor  stain'd, 
Is  heaven  offended  and  a  priest  profan'd, 
Because  my  prize,  my  beaute6us  maid,  I  hold, 
And  heav'nly  charms  prefer  to  proffer'd  gold  ?  140 

A  maid,  unmatch'd  in  manners  as  in  face, 
Skill'd  in  each  art,  and  crown'd  with  every  grace : 


26  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Not  half  so  dear  were  Clytsemnestra's  charms, 
When  first  her  blooming  beauties  bless'd  my  arms. 
Yet,  if  the  gods  demand  her,  let  her  sail ;  145 

Our  cares  are  only  for  the  public  weal : 
Let  me  be  deeni'd  the  hateful  cause  of  all, 
And  suffer,  rather  than  my  people  fall. 
The  prize,  the  beauteous  prize,  I  will  resign,  * 

So  dearly  valued,  and  so  justly  mine.  150 

But  since  for  common  good  I  yield  the  fair, 
My  private  loss  let  grateful  Greece  repair ; 
ISTor  unrewarded  let  your  prince  complain, 
That  he  alone  has  fought  and  bled  in  vain." 
x  "  Insatiate  king !  "  (Achilles  thus  replies)  155 

"  Fond  of  the  pow'r,  but  fonder  of  the  prize ! 
Wouldst  thou  the  Greeks  their  lawful  prey  should  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:  160 

But  to  resume  whate'er  thy  av'rice  craves 
(That  trick  of  tyrants)  may  be  borne  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  165 

Shall  humble  to  the  dust  her  lofty  tow'rs." 

Then  thus  the  king :  "  Shall  I  my  prize  resign, 
With  tame  content,  and  thou  possessed  of  thine  ? 
Great  as  thou  art,  and  like  a  god  in  right, 
Think  not  to  rob  me  of  a  soldier's  right.  170 

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  175 

This  hand  shall  seize  some  other  captive  dame. 
The  mighty  Ajax  shall  his  prize  resign, 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  27 

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.  180 

But  this  when  time  requires  —  it  now  remains 

We  launch  a  bark  to  plow  the  wat'ry  plains, 

And  waft  the  sacrifice  to  Chrysa's  shores, 

With  chosen  pilots  and  with  laboring  oars. 

Soon  shall  the  fair  the  sable  ship  ascend,  185 

And  some  deputed  prince  the  charge  attend ; 

This  Creta's  king  or  Ajax  shall  fulfill, 

Or  wise  Ulysses  see  performed  our  will ; 

Or,  if  our  royal  pleasure  shall  ordain, 

Achilles'  self  conduct  her  o'er  the  main;  190 

Let  fierce  Achilles,  dreadful  in  his  rage, 

The  god  propitiate  and  the  pest  assuage." 

At  this,  Pelides,  frowning  stern,  replied : 
"  0  tyrant,  arm'd  with  insolence  and  pride ! 
Inglorious  slave  to  int'rest,  ever  join'd  195 

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  :  200 

To  Phthia'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,  205 

Rich  in  her  fruits  and  in  her  martial  race. 
Hither  we  sail'd,  a  voluntary  throng, 
T'  avenge  a  private,  not  a  public  wrong : 
What  else  to  Troy  th'  assembl'd  nations  draws, 
But  thine,  ungrateful,  and  thy  brother's  cause  ?  210 

Is  this  the  pay  our  blood  and  toils  deserve, 
Disgrac'd  and  injur'd  by  the  man  we  serve  ? 


28  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

And  dar'st  thou  threat  to  snatch  my  prize  away, 
Due  to  the  deeds  of  many  a  dreadful  day ; 
A  prize  as  small,  0  tyrant !  matched  with  thine,  215 

As  thy  own  actions  if  compared  to  mine ! 
Thine  in  each  conquest  is  the  wealthy  prey, 
Though  mine  the  sweat  and  danger  of  the  day. 
Some  trivial  present  to  my  ships  I  bear, 
Or  barren  praises  pay  the  wounds  of  war.  220 

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  :  "  Ely,  mighty  warrior,  fly  !  225 

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 :  230 

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  valor  is  from  God. 
Haste,  launch  thy  vessels,  fly  with  speed  away,  235 

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.  240 

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,  245 

Thy  lov'd  Briseis  with  the  radiant  eyes. 
Hence  shalt  thou  prove  my  might,  and  curse  the  hour 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  29 

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."  250 

Achilles  heard,  with  grief  and  rage  oppressed ; 
His  heart  swell'd  high  and  labor'd  in  his  breast. 
Distracting  thoughts  by  turns  his  bosom  ruPd, 
Now  fir'd  by  wrath,  and  now  by  reason  cooPd : 
That  prompts  his  hand  to  draw  the  deadly  sword,  255 

Force  through  the  Greeks,  and  pierce  their  haughty  lord ; 
This  whispers  soft,  his  vengeance  to  control, 
And  calm  the  rising  tempest  of  his  soul. 
Just  as  in  anguish  of  suspense  he  stayed, 
While  half  unsheath'd  appeared  the  glittering  blade,  260 

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  confessed,  265 

A  sable  cloud  conceal'd  her  from  the  rest. 
He  sees,  and  sudden  to  the  goddess  cries, 
Known  by  the  flames  that  sparkle  from  her  eyes : 

"  Descends  Minerva  in  her  guardian  care, 
A  heav'nly  witness  of  the  wrongs  I  bear  270 

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  forsake  the  skies : 
Let  great  Achilles,  to  the  gods  resigned,  275 

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  sheathe,  obedient,  thy  revenging  steel.  280 

For  I  pronounce  (and  trust  a  heav'nly  pow'r) 
Thy  injured  honor  has  its  fated  hour, 


30  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

When  the  proud  monarch  shall  thy  arms  implore, 

And  bribe  thy  friendship  with  a  boundless  store. 

Then  let  revenge  no  longer  bear  the  sway,  285 

Command  thy  passions,  and  the  gods  obey." 

To  her  Pelides :  "  With  regardful  ear, 
?Tis  just,  0  goddess !  I  thy  dictates  hear. 
Hard  as  it  is,  my  vengeance  I  suppress : 
Those  who  revere  the  gods,  the  gods  will  bless."  290 

He  said,  observant  of  the  blue-ey'd  maid ; 
Then  in  the  sheath  returned  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,  295 

Which  thus  redoubling  on  Atrides  broke : 
"  0  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  die. 
So  much  'tis  safer  through  the  camp  to  go, 
And  rob  a  subject,  than  despoil  a  foe. 

Scourge  of  thy  people,  violent  and  base !  305 

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  scepter  hear  me  swear, 
Which  never  more  shall  leaves  or  blossoms  bear,     t  310 

Which,  sever' d  from  the  trunk  (as  I  from  thee) 
On  the  bare  mountains  left  its  parent  tree ; 
This  scepter,  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  315 

(Tremendous  oath !  inviolate  to  kings)  ; 
By  this  I  swear,  when  bleeding  Greece  again 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  31 

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,  320 

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  325 

His  scepter  starred  with  golden  studs  around ; 
Then  sternly  silent  sat.     With  like  disdain, 
The  raging  king  returned  his  frowns  again. 

To  calm  their  passion  with  the  words  of  age, 
Slow  from  his  seat  arose  the  Pylian  sage,  330 

Experienc'd  Nestor,  in  persuasion  skill'd  ; 
Words  sweet  as  honey  from  his  lips  distill'd : 
Two  generations  now  had  pass'd  away, 
Wise  by  his  rules  and  happy  by  his  sway ; 
Two  ages  o'er  his  native  realm  he  reign' d,  335 

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 !  340 

That  adverse  gods  commit  to  stern  debate 
The  best,  the  bravest  of  the  Grecian  state. 
Young  as  ye  are,  this  youthful  heat  restrain, 
ISTor  think  your  Nestor's  years  and  wisdom  vain. 
A  godlike  race  of  heroes  once  I  knew,  345 

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,  endued  with  more  than  mortal  might, 
Or  Polyphemus,  like  the  gods  in  fight  ?  350 

With  these  of  old  to  toils  of  battle  bred, 
In  early  youth  my  hardy  days  I  led, 


32  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Fir'd  with  the  thirst  which  virtuous  envy  breeds, 

And  smit  with  love  of  honorable  deeds. 

Strongest  of  men,  they  pierc'd  the  mountain  boar,  355 

Rang'd  the  wild  deserts  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  listened  and  obey'd. 

If  in  my  youth,  ev'n  these  esteem'd  me  wise,  360 

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  sovereign  pow'r  preside.  365 

Thee  the  first  honors  of  the  war  adorn, 

Like  gods  in  strength,  and  of  a  goddess  born ; 

Him  awful  majesty  exalts  above 

The  pow'rs  of  earth  and  scepter'd  sons  of  Jove. 

Let  both  unite  with  well-consenting  mind,  370 

So  shall  authority  with  strength  be  joined. 

Leave  me,  0  king !  to  calm  Achilles'  rage ; 

Rule  thou  thyself,  as  more  advanc'd  in  age. 

Forbid  it,  gods  !  Achilles  should  be  lost, 

The  pride  of  Greece  and  bulwark  of  our  host."  375 

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  control : 

Before  his  pride  must  his  superiors  fall,  380 

His  word  the  law,  and  he  the  lord  of  all  ? 
Him  must  our  hosts,  our  chiefs,  ourself  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  ?  "  385 

Here  on  the  monarch's  speech  Achilles  broke, 
And  furious,  thus,  and  interrupting,  spoke : 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  33 

"  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 :  390 

Command  thy  vassals,  but  command  not  me. 

Seize  on  Brise'is,  whom  the  Grecians  doom'd 

My  prize  of  war,  yet  tamely  see  resum'd; 

And  seize  secure ;  no  more  Achilles  draws 

His  conquering  sword  in  any  woman's  cause.  395 

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  :  400 

The  chiefs  in  sullen  majesty  retir'd. 

Achilles  with  Patroclus  took  his  way, 
Where  near  his  tents  his  hollow  vessels  lay. 
Meantime  Atrides  launch' d  with  numerous  oars 
A  well-rigg'd  ship  for  Chrysa's  sacred  shores :  405 

High  on  the  deck  was  fair  Chryseis  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,  410 

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  shores  whole  hecatombs  were  laid, 
And  bulls  and  goats  to  Phoebus'  altars  paid.  415 

The  sable  fumes  in  curling  spires  arise, 
And  waft  their  grateful  odors  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,  420 

Talthybius  and  Eurybates  the  good. 
"  Haste  to  the  fierce  Achilles'  tent "  (he  cries) ; 


34  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

"  Thence  bear  Briseis  as  our  royal  prize : 

Submit  he  must;  or,  if  they  will  not  part, 

Our  self  in  arms  shall  tear  her  from  his  heart."  425 

Th'  unwilling  heralds  act  their  lord's  commands ; 
Pensive  they  walk  along  the  barren  sands : 
Arrived,  the  hero  in  his  tent  they  find, 
With  gloomy  aspect,  on  his  arm  reclin'd. 
At  awful  distance  long  they  silent  stand,  430 

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  honor  enter  our  abodes, 
Ye  sacred  ministers  of  men  and  gods  !  435 

I  know  your  message ;  by  constraint  you  came ; 
Not  you,  but  your  imperious  lord,  I  blame. 
Patroclus,  haste,  the  fair  Briseis  bring ; 
Conduct  my  captive  to  the  haughty  king. 
But  witness,  heralds,  and  proclaim  my  vow,  440 

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, 
Though  prostrate  Greece  should  bleed  at  ev'ry  vein :         445 
The  raging  chief  in  frantic  passion  lost, 
Blind  to  himself  and  useless  to  his  host, 
Unskilled  to  judge  the  future  by  the  past, 
In  blood  and  slaughter  shall  repent  at  last." 

Patroclus  now  th?  unwilling  beauty  brought ;  450 

She,  in  soft  sorrows  and  in  pensive  thought, 
Pass'd  silent,  as  the  heralds  held  her  hand, 
And  oft  look'd  back,  slow-moving  o'er  the  strand. 

Not  so  his  loss  the  fierce  Achilles  bore ; 
But  sad  retiring  to  the  sounding  shore,  455 

O'er  the  wild  margin  of  the  deep  he  hung, 
That  kindred  deep  from  whence  his  mother  sprung ; 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  35 

There,  bath'd  in  tears  of  anger  and  disdain, 
Thus  loud  lamented  to  the  stormy  main : 

"  0  parent  goddess  !  since  in  early  bloom  460 

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. 
Honor  and  fame  at  least  the  Thund'rer  owed, 
And  ill  lie  pays  the  promise  of  a  god,  465 

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 ;  470 

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 ; 
Eeveal  the  cause,  and  trust  a  parent's  care."  475 

He,  deeply  sighing,  said :  "  To  tell  my  woe, 
Is  but  to  mention  what  too  well  you  know. 
From  Thebe,  sacred  to  Apollo's  name 
(Eetion's  realm),  our  conquering  army  came, 
With  treasure  loaded  and  triumphant  spoils,  480 

Whose  just  division  crown' d  the  soldier's  toils ; 
But  bright  Chryseis,  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 ;  485 

The  fleet  he  reach' d,  and,  lowly  bending  down, 
Held  forth  the  scepter  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,  490 

The  priest  to  rev'rence  and  release  the  fair. 
Not  so  Atrides :  he,  with  wonted  pride, 


36  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

The  sire  insulted,  and  his  gifts  denied : 

Th'  insulted  sire  (his  god's  peculiar  care) 

To  Phoebus  pray'd,  and  -Phoebus  heard  the  pray'r.  495 

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 : 

Myself  the  first  th'  assembled  chiefs  incline  500 

T'  avert  the  vengeance  of  the  pow'r  divine ; 

Then,  rising  in  his  wrath,  the  monarch  storm'd ; 

Incens'd  he  threatened,  and  his  threats  performed. 

The  fair  Chryseis  to  her  sire  was  sent, 

With  offer'd  gifts  to  make  the  god  relent ;  505 

But  now  he  seiz'd  Briseis'  heav'nly  charms, 

And  of  my  valor'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,  510 

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  triumphed  in  the  glorious  boast 

That  thou  stood'st  forth,  of  all  th'  ethereal  host,  515 

When  bold  rebellion  shook  the  realms  above, 

Th'  undaunted  guard  of  cloud-compelling  Jove. 

When  the  bright  partner  of  his  awful  reign, 

The  warlike  maid,  and  monarch  of  the  main, 

The  traitor-gods,  by  mad  ambition  driv'n,  520 

Durst  threat  with  chains  th'  omnipotence  of  heav'n, 

Then  call'd  by  thee,  the  monster  Titan  came 

(Whom  gods  Briareus,  men  iEgeon,  name) ; 

Through  wond'ring  skies  enormous  stalk' d  along, 

Not  he  that  shakes  the  solid  earth  so  strong :  525 

With  giant-pride  at  Jove's  high  throne  he  stands, 

And  brandish'd  round  him  all  his  hundred  hands. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  37 

Th'  affrighted  gods  confessed  their  awful  lord, 

They  dropp'd  the  fetters,  trembled,  and  ador'd. 

This,  goddess,  this  to  his  rememb'rance  call,  530 

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.  535 

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,  540 

While  tears  celestial  trickle  from  her  eyes) 
"  Why  have  I  borne  thee  with  a  mother's  throes, 
To  fates  adverse,  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 !  545 

Oh,  might  a  parent's  careful  wish  prevail, 
Far,  far  from  Ilion  should  thy  vessel  sail, 
And  thou,  from  camps  remote,  the  danger  shun, 
Which  now,  alas  !  too  nearly  threads  my  son : 
Yet  (what  I  can)  to  move  thy  suit  I'll  go  550 

To  great  Olympus  crown'd  with  fleecy  snow. 
Meantime,  secure  within  thy  ships,  from  far 
Behold  the  field,  nor  mingle  in  the  war. 
The  sire  of  gods  and  all  th'  ethereal  train 
On  the  warm  limits  of  the  farthest  main,  555 

Now  mix  with  mortals,  nor  disdain  to  grace 
The  feasts  of  ^Ethiopia's  blameless  race : 
Twelve  days  the  pow'rs  indulge  the  general  rite, 
Returning  with  the  twelfth  revolving  light. 
Then  will  I  mount  the  brazen  dome,  and  move  560 

The  high  tribunal  of  immortal  Jove." 

The  goddess  spoke  :  the  rolling  waves  unclose; 


38  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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.  565 

In  Chrysa's  port  now  sage  Ulysses  rode ; 
Beneath  the  deck  the  destined  victims  stow'd ; 
The  sails  they  furl'd,  they  lash'd  the  mast  aside, 
And  dropped  their  anchors,  and  the  pinnace  tied. 
Next  on  the  shore  their  hecatomb  they  land,  570 

Chryseis  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  hero  said :  575 

"  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,  580 

Aton'd  by  sacrifice,  desist  to  wound." 

At  this  the  sire  embraced  the  maid  again, 
So  sadly  lost,  so  lately  sought  in  vain. 
Then  near  the  altar  of  the  darting  king, 
Disposed  in  rank  their  hecatomb  they  bring :  585 

With  water  purify  their  hands,  and  take 
The  sacred  offering  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,  590 

Whose  pow'r  encircles  Cilia  the  divine ; 
Whose  sacred  eye  thy  Tenedos  surveys, 
And  gilds  fair  Chrysa  with  distinguished  rays  ! 
If,  fir'd  to  vengeance  at  thy  priest's  request, 
Thy  direful  darts  inflict  the  raging  pest ;  595 

Once  more  attend !  avert  the  wasteful  woe, 
And  smile  propitious,  and  unbend  thy  bow." 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK  I.  39 

So  Chryses  pray'd :  Apollo  heard  his  pray'r  ; 
And  now  the  Greeks  their  hecatomb  prepare ; 
Between  their  horns  the  salted  barley  threw,  600 

And  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  cauls  involv'd  with  art, 
The  choicest  morsels  lay  from  ev'ry  part.  605 

The  priest  himself  before  his  altar  stands, 
And  burns  the  off 'ring  with  his  holy  hands, 
Pours  the  black  wine,  and  sees  the  flames  aspire ; 
The  youths  with  instruments  surround  the  fire. 
The  thighs  thus  sacrificed,  and  entrails  dress'd,  610 

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  repressed, 
With  pure  libations  they  conclude  the  feast ;  615 

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  lengthened  till  the  sun  descends : 
The  Greeks,  restor'd,  the  grateful  notes  prolong :  620 

Apollo  listens,  and  approves  the  song. 

'Twas  night ;  the  chiefs  beside  their  vessel  lie, 
Till  rosy  morn  had  purpled  o'er,  the  sky  : 
Then  launch,  and  hoise  the  mast ;  indulgent  gales, 
Supplied  by  Phoebus,  fill  the  swelling  sails ;  625 

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  appeared  in  view; 
Far  on  the  beach  they  haul  their  barks  to  land  630 

(The  crooked  keel  divides  the  yellow  sand), 
Then  part,  where,  stretch'd  along  the  winding  bay, 


40  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

The  ships  and  tents  in  mingled  prospect  lay. 

But,  raging  still,  amidst  his  navy  sate 
The  stern  Achilles,  steadfast  in  his  hate ;  635 

Nor  mix'd  in  combat  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        640 
The  gods  had  summoned  to  th'  Olympian  height : 
Jove,  first  ascending  from  the  wat'ry  bow'rs, 
Leads  the  long  order  of  ethereal  pow'rs, 
When,  like  the  morning  mist,  in  early  day, 
Rose  from  the  flood  the  daughter  of  the  sea,  645 

And  to  the  seats  divine  her  flight  address'd. 
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  650 

Beneath  his  beard,  and  one  his  knees  embrac'd. 
"  If  e'er,  0  father  of  the  gods  ! "  she  said, 
"  My  words  could  please  thee  or  my  actions  aid ; 
Some  marks  of  honor  on  my  son  bestow, 
And  pay  in  glory  what  in  life  you  owe.  655 

Fame  is  at  least  by  heav'nly  promise  due 
To  life  so  short,  and  now  dishonor' d  too. 
Avenge  this  wrong,  0  ever  just  and  wise ! 
Let  Greece  be  humbled  and  the  Trojans  rise, — 
Till  the  proud  king  and  all  th'  Achaian  race  660 

Shall  heap  with  honors  him  they  now  disgrace." 

Thus  Thetis  spoke,  but  Jove  in  silence  held 
The  sacred  counsels  of  his  breast  conceal' d. 
Not  so  repuls'd,  the  goddess  closer  press'd, 
Still  grasp'd  his  knees,  and  urg'd  the  dear  request :  665 

"  0  sire  of  gods  and  men !  thy  suppliant  hear ; 
Refuse  or  grant ;  for  what  has  Jove  to  fear  ? 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  41 

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  670 

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  ?  675 

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  honors  of  our  head, 
The  nod  that  ratifies  the  will  divine,  680 

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 :  685 

High  heav'n  with  trembling  the  dread  signal  took, 
And  all  Olympus  to  the  center  shook. 

Swift  to  the  seas  profound  the  goddess  flies ; 
Jove,  to  his  starry  mansion  in  the  skies. 
The  shining  synod  of  th'  immortals  wait  690 

The  coming  god,  and  from  their  thrones  of  state 
Arising  silent,  rapt  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 :  695 

Late  had  she  view'd  the  silver-footed  dame, 
And  all  her  passions  kindled  into  flame. 
"  Say,  artful  manager  of  heaven  "  (she  cries), 
"  Who  now  partakes  the  secrets  of  the  skies  ? 
Thy  Juno  knows  not  the  decrees  of  fate,  700 

In  vain  the  partner  of  imperial  state. 
What  fav'rite  goddess  then  those  cares  divides 


42  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Which  Jove  in  prudence  from  his  consort  hides  ?  " 

To  this  the  Thunderer  :  "  Seek  not  thou  to  find 
The  sacred  counsels  of  almighty  mind :  705 

Involved  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        710 
Deep  in  the  close  recesses  of  my  soul." 

Full  on  the  sire  the  goddess  of  the  skies 
RolPd  the  large  orbs  of  her  majestic  eyes, 
And  thus  returned :  "  Austere  Saturnius,  say, 
From  whence  this  wrath,  or  who  controls  thy  sway  ?         715 
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,  720 

Nor  was  the  signal  vain  that  shook  the  sky. 
What  fatal  favor  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."  725 

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  730 

No  force  can  shake :  what  is,  that  ought  to  be. 
Goddess,  submit,  nor  dare  our  will  withstand, 
But  dread  the  power  of  this  avenging  hand ; 
Th?  united  strength  of  all  the  gods  above 
In  vain  resists  th?  omnipotence  of  Jove."  735 

The  Thund'rer  spoke,  nor  durst  the  queen  reply ; 
A  rev'rend  horror  silenc'd  all  the  sky. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   I.  43 

The  feast  disturbed,  with  sorrow  Vulcan  saw 

His  mother  menac'd  and  the  gods  in  awe ; 

Peace  at  his  heart  and  pleasure  his  design,  740 

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.  745 

Thou,  goddess-mother,  with  our  sire  comply, 

Nor  break  the  sacred  union  of  the  sky : 

Lest,  rous'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 ;  750 

The  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  cheerful  way,  — 
"  Goddess  "  (he  cried),  "  be  patient  and  obey.  755 

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,  760 

Hurl'd  headlong  downward  from  th?  ethereal  height ; 
Toss'd  all  the  day  in  rapid  circles  round, 
Nor,  till  the  sun  descended,  touched  the  ground : 
Breathless  I  fell,  in  giddy  motion  lost ; 
The  Sinthians  rais'd  me  on  the  Lemnian  coast."  765 

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  applied  the  nectar'd  urn. 
Vulcan  with  awkward  grace  his  office  plies,  770 

And  unextinguish'd  laughter  shakes  the  skies. 

Thus  the  blest  gods  the  genial  day  prolong 


44  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

In  feasts  ambrosial  and  celestial  song. 

Apollo  tun'd  the  lyre ;  the  muses  round 

With  voice  alternate  aid  the  silver  sound.  775 

Meantime  the  radiant  sun,  to  mortal  sight 

Descending  swift,  rolPd  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,  780 

And  Juno  slumber' d  on  the  golden  bed. 

BOOK   VI. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

EPISODES   OF   GLAUCUS   AND   DIOMED,    HECTOR   AND   ANDROMACHE. 

The  gods  having  left  the  field,  the  Grecians  prevail.  Helenas,  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  battle  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  per- 
formed the  orders  of  Helenus,  prevails  upon  Paris  to  return  to  the 
battle,  and,  taking  a  tender  leave  of  his  wife  Andromache,  hastens 
again  to  the  field.  The  scene  is  first  in  the  field  of  battle,  between 
the  rivers  Simois  and  Scamander,  and  then  changes  to  Troy. 

Now  heav'n  forsakes  the  fight ;  th'  immortals  yield 
To  human  force  and  human  skill  the  field : 
Dark  show'rs  of  jav'lins  fly  from  foes  to  foes  ; 
Now  here,  now  there,  the  tide  of  combat  flows  ; 
While  Troy's  fam'd  streams,  that  bound  the  deathful  plain, 
On  either  side  run  purple  to  the  main.  6 

Great  Ajax  first  to  conquest  led  the  way, 
Broke  the  thick  ranks,  and  turn'd  the  doubtful  day. 
The  Thracian  Acamas  his  falchion  found, 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   VI.  45 

And  hew'd  th'  enormous  giant  to  the  ground ;  10 

His  thund'ring  arm  a  deadly  stroke  impressed 

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,  15 

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.  20 

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,  died. 

By  great  Euryalus  was  Dresus  slain,  25 

And  next  he  laid  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 ;  30 

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  Polypoetes  fell ;  35 

Ulysses'  spear  Pidytes  sent  to  hell ; 
By  Teucer's  shaft  brave  Aretaon  bled, 
And  Nestor's  son  laid  stern  Ablerus  dead ; 
Great  Agamemnon,  leader  of  the  brave, 
The  mortal  wound  of  rich  Elatus  gave,  40 

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, 


46  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Unbless'd  Adrastus  next  at  mercy  lies  45 

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  shattered  chariot  from  the  crooked  yoke ;  50 

Wide  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  55 

The  victor's  knees,  and  thus  his  pray'rs  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  battle  slain, 
Thy  hollow  ships  his  captive  son  detain ;  60 

Eich  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  vanquished  prize,  65 

Stern  Agamemnon  swift  to  vengeance  flies, 
And  furious  thus  :  "  0  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 !  70 

Not  one  of  all  the  race,  nor  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,  75 

To  warn  the  nations  and  to  curb  the  great ! " 

The  monarch  spoke  ;  the  words,  with  warmth  address'd, 
To  rigid  justice  steel'd  his  brother's  breast. 
Fierce  from  his  knees  the  hapless  chief  he  thrust ; 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VI.  47 

The  monarch's  jav'lin  stretch' d  him  in  the  dust.  80 

Then,  pressing  with  his  foot  his  panting  heart. 

Forth  from  the  slain  he  tugg'd  the  reeking  dart. 

Old  Nestor  saw,  and  rous'd  the  warriors'  rage : 

"  Thus,  heroes  !  thus  the  vig'rous  combat  wage  ! 

Iso  son  of  Mars  descend,  for  servile  gains,  85 

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  acquired, 
And  frighted  Troy  within  her  walls  retired ;  90 

Had  not  sage  Helenus  her  state  redress'd, 
Taught  by  the  gods  that  mov'd  his  sacred  breast. 
Where  Hector  stood,  with  great  iEneas  join'd, 
The  seer  reveal'd  the  counsels  of  his  mind : 

"  Ye  gen'rous  chiefs  !  on  whom  th'  immortals  lay  95 

The  cares  and  glories  of  this  doubtful  day, 
On  whom  your  aids,  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 ;  100 

Ere  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, 
Ourselves,  here  fix'd,  will  make  the  dang'rous  stand ; 
Press'd  as  we  are  and  sore  of  former  fight,  105 

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 ;  110 

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  labor'd  o'er  with  gold, 


48  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Before  the  goddess'  honor'd  knees  be  spread ;  115 

And  twelve  young  heifers  to  her  altars  led. 

If  so  the  pow'r,  aton'd  by  fervent  prayer, 

Our  wives,  our  infants,  and  our  city  spare, 

And  far  avert  Tydides'  wasteful  ire, 

That  mows  whole  troops  and  makes  all  Troy  retire.  120 

Not  thus  Achilles  taught  our  hosts  to  dread, 

Sprung  though  he  was  from  more  than  mortal  bed ; 

Not  thus  resistless  rul'd  the  stream  of  fight, 

In  rage  unbounded  and  unmatched  in  might." 

Hector  obedient  heard,  and  with  a  bound  125 

Jjeap'd  from  his  trembling  chariot  to  the  ground ; 
Through  all  his  host,  inspiring  force,  he  flies, 
And  bids  the  thunder  of  the  battle  rise. 
With  rage  recruited,  the  bold  Trojans  glow 
And  turn  the  tide  of  conflict  on  the  foe  :  130 

Fierce  in  the  front  he  shakes  two  dazzling  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 !  135 

And  you  whom  distant  nations  send  to  war  ! 
Be  mindful  of  the  strength  your  fathers  bore ; 
Be  still  yourselves,  and  Hector  asks  no  more. 
One  hour  demands  me  in  the  Trojan  wall, 
To  bid  our  altars  flame  and  victims  fall :  140 

Nor  shall,  I  trust,  the  matrons'  holy  train 
And  rev'rend  elders  seek  the  gods  in  vain." 

This  said,  with  ample  strides  the  hero  pass'd; 
The  shield's  large  orb  behind  his  shoulder  cast, 
His  neck  o'ershading,  to  his  ankle  hung ;  145 

And  as  he  march' d  the  brazen  buckler  rung. 

Now  paus'd  the  battle  (godlike  Hector  gone), 
When  daring  Glaucus  and  great  Tydeus'  son 
Between  both  armies  met ;  the  chiefs  from  far 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VI.  49 

« 
Observed  each  other,  and  had  rnark'd  for  war.  150 

Near  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'  embattled  field ; 
Yet  far  before  the  troops  thou  dar'st  appear,  155 

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  heaven,  celestial,  thou  descend, 
Know,  with  immortals  we  no  more  contend.  160 

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  scattered  round,  165 

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  bless'd  with  endless  ease  above)  ;  170 

Depriv'd  of  sight  by  their  avenging  doom, 
Cheerless  he  breath'd  and  wander'd  in  the  gloom ; 
Then  sunk  unpitied  to  the  dire  abodes, 
A  wretch  accurs'd  and  hated  by  the  gods ! 
I  brave  not  heaven  ;  but  if  the  fruits  of  earth  175 

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  " 
(Replied  the  chief),  "can  Tydeus'  son  inquire?  180 

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 : 


50  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

So  generations  in  their  course  decay  ;  185 

So  flourish  these,  when  those  are  pass'd  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) ;  190 

iEolian  Sisyphus,  with  wisdom  bless'd, 
In  ancient  time  the  happy  walls  possess'd, 
Then  call'd  Ephyre  :  Glaucus  was  his  son, 
Great  Glaucus,  father  of  Bellerophon, 

Who  o'er  the  sons  of  men  in  beauty  shin'd,  195 

Jjov'd  for  that  valor  which  preserves  mankind. 
Then  mighty  Proetus  Argos'  scepter  sway'd, 
Whose  hard  commands  Bellerophon  obey'd. 
With  direful  jealousy  the  monarch  rag'd, 
And  the  brave  prince  in  numerous  toils  engag'd.  200 

For  him  Antea  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. 
Eir'd  at  his  scorn,  the  queen  to  Proetus  fled,  205 

And  begg'd  revenge  for  her  insulted  bed. 
Incens'd  he  heard,  resolving  on  his  fate ; 
But  hospitable  laws  restrained  his  hate: 
To  Lycia  the  devoted  youth  he  sent, 

With  tablets  seal'd,  that  told  his  dire  intent.  210 

Now,  bless'd  by  ev'ry  pow'r  who  guards  the  good, 
The  chief  arriv'd  at  Xanthus'  silver  flood : 
There  Lycia's  monarch  paid  him  honors  due ; 
Nine  days  he  feasted,  and  nine  bulls  he  slew. 
But  when  the  tenth  bright  morning  orient  glow'd,  215 

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  Chimsera's  conquest  was  enjoin'd : 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   VI.  51 

A  mingled  monster,  of  no  mortal  kind ;  220 

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  slaughtered  (for  he  read  the  skies,  225 

And  trusted  heavVs  informing  prodigies)  ; 
Then  met  in  arms  the  Solym^ean  crew 
(Fiercest  of  men),  and  those  the  warrior  slew. 
Next  the  bold  Amazons'  whole  force  defied ; 
And  conquered  still,  for  heav'n  was  on  his  side.  230 

"  Nor  ended  here  his  toils  :  his  Lycian  foes, 
At  his  return,  a  treach'rous  ambush  rose, 
With  level'd  spears  along  the  winding  shore : 
There  fell  they  breathless,  and  returned  no  more. 

"  At  length  the  monarch  with  repentant  grief  235 

Confessed  the  gods  and  god-descended  chief ; 
His  daughter  gave,  the  stranger  to  detain, 
With  half  the  honors  of  his  ample  reign. 
The  Lycians  grant  a  chosen  space  of  ground, 
With  woods,  with  vineyards,  and  with  harvests  crown'd.  240 
There  long  the  chief  his  happy  lot  possessed, 
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,  245 

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  consumed  his  wasted  heart ; 
His  beauteous  daughter  fell  by  Phoebe's  dart ;  250 

His  eldest-born  by  raging  Mars  was  slain, 
In  combat  on  the  Solymaean  plain. 
Hippolochus  survived ;  from  him  I  came, 
The  honor'd  author  of  my  birth  and  name ; 


52  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

By  his  decree  I  sought  the  Trojan  town,  255 

By  his  instructions  learn  to  win  renown ; 

To  stand  the  first  in  worth  as  in  command, 

To  add  new  honors  to  my  native  land, 

Before  my  eyes  my  mighty  sires  to  place, 

And  emulate  the  glories  of  our  race."  260 

He  spoke,  and  transport  fill'd  Tydides'  heart ; 
In  earth  the  gen'rous  warrior  fix'd  his  dart ; 
Then  friendly,  thus,  the  Lycian  prince  address'd : 
"  Welcome,  my  brave  hereditary  guest ! 
Thus  ever  let  us  meet,  with  kind  embrace,  265 

Nor  stain  the  sacred  friendship  of  our  race. 
Know,  chief,  our  grandsires  have  been  guests  of  old, 
GEneus  the  strong,  Bellerophon  the  bold ; 
Our  ancient  seat  his  honor'd  presence  grac'd, 
Where  twenty  days  in  genial  rites  he  pass'd.  270 

The  parting  heroes  mutual  presents  left : 
A  golden  goblet  was  thy  grandsire's  gift ; 
(Eneus  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  275 

Among  my  treasures,  still  adorns  my  board: 
For  Tydeus  left  me  young,  when  Thebe'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,  280 

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  dye  thy  spear  with  gore ; 
But  thou  and  Diomed  be  foes  no  more.  285 

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; 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VI.  53 

Brave  Glaucus  then  each  narrow  thought  resigned  290 

(Jove  warm'd  his  bosom  and  enlarged  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.  295 

Meantime  the  guardian  of  the  Trojan  state, 
Great  Hector,  entered  at  the  Scaean  gate. 
Beneath  the  beech-tree's  consecrated  shades, 
The  Trojan  matrons  and  the  Trojan  maids 
Around  him  flock'd,  all  pressed  with  pious  care  300 

For  husbands,  brothers,  sons,  engaged  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 ;  305 

O'er  these  a  range  of  marble  structure  runs, 
The  rich  pavilions  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,       310 
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  Laodice,  whose  beauteous  face 
Surpass'd  the  nymphs  of  Troy's  illustrious  race).  315 

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,  320 

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. 


54  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Then  with  a  plenteous,  draught  refresh  thy  soul,  325 

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,  330 

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  prof  an' d ; 

111  fits  it  me,  with  human  gore  distain'd,  335 

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,  340 

Most  priz'd  for  art,  and  labor'd  o'er  with  gold, 
Before  the  goddess'  honor'd  knees  be  spread, 
And  twelve  young  heifers  to  her  altar  led. 
So  may  the  pow'r,  aton'd  by  fervent  pray'r, 
Our  wives,  our  infants,  and  our  city  spare,  345 

And  far  avert  Tydides'  wasteful  ire, 
Who  mows  whole  troops,  and  makes  all  Troy  retire. 
Be  this,  0  mother,  your  religious  care ; 
I  go  to  rouse  soft  Paris  to  the  war  : 

If  yet,  not  lost  to  all  the  sense  of  shame,  350 

The  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."  355 

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. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK  VI.  55 

There  lay  the  vestures  of  no  vulgar  art,  360 

Sidonian  maids  embroidered  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  dyes,  365 

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,  370 

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.  375 

The  priestess  then  the  shining  veil  displays, 

Plac'd  on  Minerva's  knees,  and  thus  she  prays : 

"  0  awful  goddess  !  ever-dreadful  maid, 
Troy's  strong  defense,  unconquer'd  Pallas,  aid ! 
Break  thou  Tydides'  spear,  and  let  him  fall  380 

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,  aton'd  by  penitence  and  pray'r, 
Ourselves,  our  infants,  and  our  city  spare  !  "  385 

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  every  part  390 

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  wond'rous  strength : 


56  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Of  full  ten  cubits  was  the  lance's  length ;  395 

The  steely  point,  with  golden  ringlets  join'd, 

Before  him  brandished,  at  each  motion  shin'd. 

Thus  entering,  in  the  glittering  rooms  he  found 

His  brother-chief,  whose  useless  arms  lay  round, 

His  eyes  delighting  with  their  splendid  show,  400 

Brightening  the  shield,  and  polishing  the  bow. 

Beside  him  Helen  with  her  virgins  stands, 

Guides  their  rich  labors,  and  instructs  their  hands. 

Him  thus  inactive,  with  an  ardent  look 
The  prince  beheld,  and  high-resenting  spoke :  405 

><  Thy  hate  to  Troy  is  this  the  time  to  show 
(0  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,  410 

Till  heaps  of  dead  alone  defend  her  wall ; 
For  thee  the  soldier  bleeds,  the  matron  mourns, 
And  wasteful  war  in  all  its  fury  burns. 
Ungrateful  man !  deserves  not  this  thy  care, 
Our  troops  to  hearten  and  our  toils  to  share  ?  415 

Rise,  or  behold  the  conqu'ring  flames  ascend, 
And  all  the  Phrygian  glories  at  an  end." 

"  Brother,  'tis  just "  (replied  the  beauteous  youth)  ; 
"  Thy  free  remonstrance  proves  thy  worth  and  truth  : 
Yet  charge  my  absence  less,  0  gen'rous  chief,  420 

On  hate  to  Troy  than  conscious  shame  and  grief : 
Here,  hid  from  human  eyes,  thy  brother  sate, 
And  mourned  in  secret  his  and  Iliones  fate. 
?Tis  now  enough :  now  glory  spreads  her  charms, 
And  beauteous  Helen  calls  her  chief  to  arms.  425 

Conquest  to-day  my  happier  sword  may  bless, 
?Tis  manes  to  fight,  but  heavens  to  give  success. 
But  while  I  arm,  contain  thy  ardent  mind ; 
Or  go,  and  Paris  shall  not  lag  behind." 


THE  ILIAD  —  BOOK  VI.  57 

He  said,  nor  answer'd  Priam's  warlike  son ;  430 

When  Helen  thus  with  lowly  grace  begun : 

"  0  gen'rous  brother  !  if  the  guilty  dame 
That  caused  these  woes  deserve  a  sister's  name ! 
Would  heav'n,  ere  all  these  dreadful  deeds  were  done, 
The  day  that  show'd  me  to  the  golden  sun  435 

Had  seen  my  death !     Why  did  not  whirlwinds  bear 
The  fatal  infant  to  the  fowls  of  air  ? 
Why  sunk  I  not  beneath  the  whelming  tide, 
And  midst  the  roarings  of  the  waters  died  ? 
Heav'n  fill'd  up  all  my  ills,  and  I  accurst  440 

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  sustained  for  Paris'  sake  and  mine :  445 

The  gods  have  link'd  our  miserable  doom, 
Our  present  woe  and  infamy  to  come : 
Wide  shall  it  spread,  and  last  through  ages  long, 
•Example  sad !  and  theme  of  future  song ! " 

The  chief  replied :  "  This  time  forbids  to  rest :  450 

The  Trojan  bands,  by  hostile  fury  press' d, 
Demand  their  Hector,  and  his  arm  require ; 
The  combat  urges,  and  my  soul's  on  fire. 
Urge  thou  thy  knight  to  march  where  glory  calls, 
And  timely  join  me,  e'er  I  leave  the  walls.  455 

E'er  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  460 

May  vanquish  Hector  by  a  Grecian  hand." 

He  said,  and  pass'd  with  sad  presaging  heart 
To  seek  his  spouse,  his  soul's  far  dearer  part ; 
At  home  he  sought  her,  but  he  sought  in  vain : 


58  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

She,  with  one  maid  of  all  her  menial  train,  465 

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,  470 

Or  weep  the  wounds  her  bleeding  country  bore. 

But  he  who  found  not  whom  his  soul  desir'd, 
Whose  virtue  charmed  him  as  her  beauty  fir'd, 
Stood  in  the  gates,  and  ask'd  what  way  she  bent 
Her  parting  steps ;  if  to  the  fane  she  went,  475 

Where  late  the  mourning  matrons  made  resort, 
Or  sought  her  sisters  in  the  Trojan  court. 
"  Not  to  the  court "  (replied  th'  attendant  train), 
"  Nor,  mix'd  with  matrons,  to  Minerva's  fane : 
To  Ilion's  steepy  tow'r  she  bent  her  way,  480 

To  mark  the  fortunes  of  the  doubtful  day. 
Troy  fled,  she  heard,  before  the  Grecian  sword ; 
She  heard,  and  trembled  for  her  distant  lord : 
Distracted  with  surprise,  she  seem'd  to  fly, 
Fear  on  her  cheek  and  sorrow  in  her  eye.  485 

The  nurse  attended  with  her  infant  boy, 
The  young  Astyanax,  the  hope  of  Troy." 

Hector,  this  heard,  return'd  without  delay ; 
Swift  through  the  town  he  trod  his  former  way, 
Through  streets  of  palaces  and  walks  of  state,  490 

And  met  the  mourner  at  the  Scsean  gate. 
With  haste  to  meet  him  sprung  the  joyful  fair, 
His  blameless  wife,  Eetion's  wealthy  heir 
(Cilician  Thebe  great  Eetion  sway'd, 

And  Hippoplacus'  wide-extended  shade)  :  495 

The  nurse  stood  near,  in  whose  embraces  press'd 
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. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VI.  59 

To  this  lov'd  infant  Hector  gave  the  name  500 

Scamandrius,  from  Scamander's  honor'd  stream ; 

Astyanax  the  Trojans  call'd  the  boy, 

From  his  great  father,  the  defense  of  Troy. 

Silent  the  warrior  smil'd,  and  pleas'd,  resigned 

To  tender  passions  all  his  mighty  mind :  505 

His  beauteous  princess  cast  a  mournful  look, 

Hung  on  his  hand,  and  then  dejected  spoke; 

Her  bosom  labor' d  with  a  boding  sigh, 

And  the  big  tear  stood  trembling  in  her  eye. 

"  Too  daring  prince  !  ah  whither  dost  thou  run  ?  510 

Ah  too  forgetful  of  thy  wife  and  son  ! 

And  think'st  thou  not  how  wretched  we  shall  be, 

A  widow  I,  a  helpless  orphan  he ! 

For  sure  such  courage  length  of  life  denies, 

And  thou  must  fall,  thy  virtue's  sacrifice.  515 

Greece  in  her  single  heroes  strove  in  vain ; 

Now  hosts  oppose  thee,  and  thou  must  be  slain ! 

Oh  grant  me,  gods !  e'er  Hector  meets  his  doom, 

All  I  can  ask  of  heav'n,  an  early  tomb ! 

So  shall  my  days  in  one  sad  tenor  run,  520 

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, 

Laid  Thebe  waste,  and  slew  my  warlike  sire !  525 

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  laid  him  decent  on  the  f un'ral  pile ; 

Then  rais'd  a  mountain  where  his  bones  were  burn'd :        530 

The  mountain  nymphs  the  rural  tomb  adorn'd ; 

Jove's  sylvan  daughters  bade  their  elms  bestow 

A  barren  shade,  and  in  his  honor  grow. 

"  By  the  same  arm  my  seven  brave  brothers  fell ; 


60  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

In  one  sad  day  beheld  the  gates  of  hell :  535 

While  the  fat  herds  and  snowy  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 : 

Redeemed  too  late,  she  scarce  beheld  again  540 

Her  pleasing  empire  and  her  native  plain, 

When,  ah !  oppressed  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  :  545 

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,  550 

Where  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.  555 

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  replied :  "  That  post  shall  be  my  care,  560 

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  luster  of  my  former  name 

Should  Hector  basely  quit  the  field  of  fame  !  565 

My  early  youth  was  bred  to  martial  pains, 
My  soul  impels  me  to  th'  embattled  plains : 
Let  me  be  foremost  to  defend  the  throne, 
And  guard  my  father's  glories  and  my  own. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VE  61 

Yet  come  it  will,  the  day  decreed  by  fates  570 

(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  presage  so  wounds  my  mind, 

My  mother's  death,  the  ruin  of  my  kind,  575 

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  battles  to  design,  580 

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  ! '  585 

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,  590 

Press'd  with  a  load  of  monumental  clay  ! 

Thy  Hector,  wrapp'd  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.  595 

The  babe  clung  crying  to  his  nurse's  breast, 
Scar'd  at  the  dazzling  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,  600 

And  plac'd  the  beaming  helmet  on  the  ground. 
Then  kiss'd  the  child,  and,  lifting  high  in  air, 
Thus  to  the  gods  pref err'd  a  father's  pray'r : 

"  O  thou !  whose  glory  fills  th'  ethereal  throne, 


62  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

And  all  ye  deathless  pow'rs  !  protect  my  son !  605 

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,  610 

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."  615 

He  spoke,  and  fondly  gazing  on  her  charms, 
Restored  the  pleasing  burthen  to  her  arms ; 
Soft  on  her  fragrant  breast  the  babe  she  laid, 
Hush'd  to  repose,  and  with  a  smile  surveyed. 
The  troubled  pleasure  soon  chastis'd  by  fear,  620 

She  mingled  with  the  smile  a  tender  tear. 
The  soften'd  chief  with  kind  compassion  view'd, 
And  dried  the  falling  drops,  and  thus  pursued : 

"  Andromache  !  my  soul's  far  better  part, 
Why  with  untimely  sorrows  heaves  thy  heart  ?  625 

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 ;  630 

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  combat  is  the  sphere  for  men.  635 

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. 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   VI.  63 

His  princess  parts  with  a  prophetic  sigh,  640 

Unwilling  parts,  and  oft  reverts  her  eye, 

That  streamed  at  ev'ry  look :  then,  moving  slow, 

Sought  her  own  palace,  and  indulged  her  woe. 

There,  while  her  tears  deplor'd  the  godlike  man, 

Through  all  her  train  the  soft  infection  ran:  645 

The  pious  maids  their  mingled  sorrows  shed, 

And  mourn  the  living  Hector  as  the  dead. 

But  now,  no  longer  deaf  to  honor's  call, 
Forth  issues  Paris  from  the  palace  wall. 
In  brazen  arms  that  cast  a  gleamy  ray,  650 

Swift  through  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 :  655 

His  head,  now  freed,  he  tosses  to  the  skies ; 
His  mane  dishevePd  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,  660 

In  arms  refulgent  as  the  god  of  day, 
The  son  of  Priam,  glorying  in  his  might, 
Eush'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.  665 

To  whom  the  noble  Hector  thus  replied : 
"  0  chief,  in  blood,  and  now  in  arms,  allied ! 
Thy  pow'r  in  war  with  justice  none  contest ; 
Known  is  thy  courage  and  thy  strength  confess'd. 
What  pity,  sloth  should  seize  a  soul  so  brave,  670 

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  labors  share ; 


64  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

For  much  they  suffer,  for  thy  sake,  in  war.  675 

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  through  her  seas  returns." 

BOOK   XXII. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

THE    DEATH    OF    HECTOR. 

The  Trojans  being  safe  within  the  walls,  Hector  only  stays  to 
oppose  Achilles.  Priam  is  struck  at  his  approach,  and  tries  to  per- 
suade his  son  to  reenter  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  Deipho- 
bus ;  he  stands  the  combat,  and  is  slain.  Achilles  drags  the  dead 
body  at  his  chariot,  in  the  sight  of  Priam  and  Hecuba.  Their  lamen- 
tations, tears,  and  despair.  Their  cries  reach  the  ears  of  Androm- 
ache, 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. 

Thus  to  their  bulwarks,  smit  with  panic  fear, 
The  herded  Ilians  rush  like  driven  deer ; 
There,  safe,  they  wipe  the  briny  drops  away, 
And  drown  in  bowls  the  labors  of  the  day. 
Close  to  the  walls,  advancing  o'er  the  fields  5 

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  fix'd  he  stood  before  the  Scaean  gate,  10 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  65 

Still  his  bold  arms  determin'd  to  employ, 
The  guardian  still  of  long-defended  Troy. 

Apollo  now  to  tir'd  Achilles  turns 
(The  pcfwer  confessed  in  all  his  glory  burns), 
"  And  what  "  (he  cries)  "  has  Peleus'  son  in  view,  15 

With  mortal  speed  a  godhead  to  pursue  ? 
For  not  to  thee  to  know  the  gods  is  giv'n, 
UnskiU'd  to  trace  the  latent  marks  of  heav'n. 
What  boots  thee  now  that  Troy  forsook  the  plain  ? 
Vain  thy  past  labor  and  thy  present  vain  :  20 

Safe  in  their  walls  are  now  her  troops  bestow'd, 
While  here  thy  frantic  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  !  25 

What  gasping  numbers  now  had  bit  the  ground ! 
Thou  robb'st  me  of  a  glory  justly  mine, 
Powerful  of  godhead  and  of  fraud  divine : 
Mean  fame,  alas  !  for  one  of  heav'nly  strain, 
To  cheat  a  mortal  who  repines  in  vain."  30 

Then  to  the  city,  terrible  and  strong, 
With  high  and  haughty  steps  he  tower' d  along : 
So  the  proud  courser,  victor  of  the  prize, 
To  the  near  goal  with  double  ardor  flies. 
Him,  as  he  blazing  shot  across  the  field,  35 

The  careful  eyes  of  Priam  first  beheld. 
Not  half  so  dreadful  rises  to  the  sight, 
Through  the  thick  gloom  of  some  tempestuous  night, 
Orion's  dog  (the  year  when  autumn  weighs), 
And  o'er  the  feebler  stars  exerts  his  rays ;  40 

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  withered  arms  ;  obtests  the  skies  ;  45 


66  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

He  calls  his  much-lov'd  son  with  feeble  cries. 

The  son,  resolved  Achilles'  force  to  dare, 

Full  at  the  Scsean  gates  expects  the  war, 

While  the  sad  father  on  the  rampart  stands, 

And  thus  adjures  him  with  extended  hands  :  50 

"  Ah,  stay  not,  stay  not !  guardless  and  alone ; 
Hector,  my  lov'd,  my  dearest,  bravest  son ! 
Methinks  already  I  behold  thee  slain, 
And  stretched  beneath  that  fury  of  the  plain. 
Implacable  Achilles  !  might' st  thou  be  55 

To  all  the  gods  no  dearer  than  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  curs' d  arm  destroy ?d  :  60 

Or,  worse  than  slaughtered,  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  loved  Lycaon  ;  now  perhaps  no  more  !  65 

Oh !  if  in  yonder  hostile  camp  they  live, 
What  heaps  of  gold,  what  treasure  would  I  give 
(Their  grandsire's  wealth,  by  right  of  birth  their  own, 
Consigned  his  daughter  with  Lelegia's  throne)  ! 
But  if  (which  heav'n  forbid)  already  lost,  70 

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  deprived  of  thee.  75 

Yet  shun  Achilles  !  enter  yet  the  wall ; 
And  spare  thyself,  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 ;  80 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   XXII.  67 

While  yet  thy  father  feels  the  woes  he  bears, 

Yet  curs'd  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 :  85 

To  fill  with  scenes  of  death  his  closing  eyes, 

And  number  all  his  days  by  miseries  ! 

My  heroes  slain,  my  bridal  bed  overturn' d, 

My  daughters  ravish'd,  and  my  city  burn'd, 

My  bleeding  infants  dash'd  against  the  floor,  —  90 

These  I  have  yet  to  see,  perhaps  yet  more ! 

Perhaps  ev'n  I,  reserved  by  angry  fate 

The  last  sad  relic  of  my  ruin'd  state 

(Dire  pomp  of  sovereign  wretchedness),  must  fall 

And  stain  the  pavement  of  my  regal  hall,  95 

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  in  vigor,  dies  the  best,  100 

Struck  through  with  wounds,  all  honest  on  the  breast. 

But  when  the  fates,  in  fullness  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 ;  105 

This,  this  is  misery  !  the  last,  the  worst, 

That  man  can  feel,  man,  fated  to  be  curs'd ! " 

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 ;  110 

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 !  115 


68  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

If  ever  thee  in  these  fond  arms  I  press'd, 

Or  still'd  thy  infant  clamors  at  this  breast, 

Ah !  do  not  thus  our  helpless  years  forego, 

But,  by  our  walls  secured,  repel  the  foe. 

Against  his  rage  if  singly  thou  proceed,  120 

Shouldst  thou  (but  heav'n  avert  it !)  shouldst  thou  bleed, 

Nor  must  thy  corse  lie  honored  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."  125 

So  they,  while  down  their  cheeks  the  torrents  roll : 
But  fix'd  remains  the  purpose  of  his  soul ; 
Kesolv'd  he  stands,  and  with  a  fiery  glance 
Expects  the  hero's  terrible  advance. 

So,  roll'd  up  in  his  den,  the  swelling  snake  130 

Beholds  the  traveler  approach  the  brake, 
When,  fed  with  noxious  herbs,  his  turgid  veins 
Have  gathered  half  the  poisons  of  the  plains  ; 
He  burns,  he  stiffens  with  collected  ire, 

And  his  red  eyeballs  glare  with  living  fire.  135 

Beneath  a  turret,  on  his  shield  reclin'd, 
He  stood,  and  questioned  thus  his  mighty  mind : 

"  Where  lies  my  way  ?  to  enter  in  the  wall  ? 
Honor  and  shame  th'  ungenerous  thought  recall : 
Shall  proud  Polydamas  before  the  gate  140 

Proclaim,  his  counsels  are  obeyed  too  late, 
Which,  timely  followed  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.  145 

Methinks  my  suffering  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  150 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  69 

Glorious,  my  country's  terror  laid  in  dust : 

Or  if  I  perish,  let  her  see  my  fall 

In  field  at  least,  and  fighting  for  her  wall. 

And  yet  suppose  these  measures  I  forego, 

Approach  unarmed,  and  parley  with  the  foe,  156 

The  warrior-shield,  the  helm,  and  lance  lay  down, 

And  treat  on  terms  of  peace  to  save  the  town : 

The  wife  withheld,  the  treasure  ill-detain' d 

(Cause  of  the  war  and  grievance  of  the  land), 

With  honorable  justice  to  restore ;  160 

And  add  half  Ilion's  yet  remaining  store, 

Which  Troy  shall,  sworn,  produce ;  that  injured  Greece 

May  share  our  wealth,  and  leave  our  walls  in  peace. 

But  why  this  thought  ?     Unarmed  if  I  should  go, 

What  hope  of  mercy  from  this  vengeful  foe,  165 

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 :  170 

War  is  our  business,  but  to  whom  is  giv'n 

To  die  or  triumph,  that  determine  heav'n ! " 

Thus  pondering,  like  a  god  the  Greek  drew  nigh : 
His  dreadful  plumage  nodded  from  on  high ; 
The  Pelian  jav'lin,  in  his  better  hand,  175 

Shot  trembling  rays  that  glittered  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.  180 

He  leaves  the  gates,  he  leaves  the  walls  behind ; 
Achilles  follows  like  the  winged  wind. 
Thus  at  the  panting  dove  the  falcon  flies 
(The  swiftest  racer  of  the  liquid  skies), 
Just  when  he  holds,  or  thinks  he  holds,  his  prey,  185 


70  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Obliquely  wheeling  through  th'  aerial  way, 

With  open  beak  and  shrilling  cries  he  springs, 

And  aims  his  claws,  and  shoots  upon  his  wings : 

No  less  foreright  the  rapid  chase  they  held, 

One  urg'd  by  fury,  one  by  fear  impelPd ;  190 

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),  smoke  along  the  road. 

Next  by  Scamander's  double  source  they  bound,  195 

Where  two  f  am'd  fountains  burst  the  parted  ground : 

This,  hot  through  scorching  clefts,  is  seen  to  rise, 

With  exhalations  steaming  to  the  skies  ; 

That,  the  green  banks  in  summer's  heat  overflows, 

Like  crystal  clear,  and  cold  as  winter  snows.  200 

Each  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  pass'd,  one  chasing,  one  in  flight  205 

(The  mighty  fled,  pursued  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.  210 

As  when  some  hero's  fun'rals  are  decreed, 
In  grateful  honor  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,  215 

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  chase  they  look, 
The  sire  of  mortals  and  immortals  spoke :  220 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  71 

"  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  received  with  joy,  225 

From  Ida's  summits  and  the  towers  of  Troy  : 
Now  see  him  flying !  to  his  fears  resigned, 
And  Fate  and  fierce  Achilles  close  behind. 
Consult,  ye  pow'rs  ('tis  worthy  your  debate) 
Whether  to  snatch  him  from  impending  fate,  230 

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 !  235 

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."  240 

Swift  at  the  mandate  pleas'd  Tritonia  flies, 
And  stoops  impetuous  from  the  cleaving  skies. 

As  through  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,  245 

Or  deep  beneath  the  trembling  thicket  shakes : 
Sure  of  the  vapor  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.  250 

Oft  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 :  255 


72  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  chase, 

Their  sinking  limbs  the  fancied  course  forsake, 

Nor  this  can  fly,  nor  that  can  overtake :  260 

No  less  the  laboring  heroes  pant  and  strain, 

While  that  but  flies,  and  this  pursues,  in  vain. 

What  god,  0  Muse  !  assisted  Hector's  force, 
With  fate  itself  so  long  to  hold  the  course  ? 
Phoebus  it  was  :  who,  in  his  latest  hour,  265 

Endued  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  untouched  the  honors  of  the  day.  270 

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  surcharged  with  Hector's  fate ;  275 

Heavy  with  death  it  sinks,  and  hell  receives  the  weight. 

Then  Phoebus  left  him.     Pierce  Minerva  flies 
To  stern  Pelides,  and,  triumphing,  cries : 
"  0  lov'd  of  Jove !  this  day  our  labors  cease, 
And  conquest  blazes  with  full  beams  on  Greece.  280 

Great  Hector  falls ;  that  Hector,  f am'd  so  far, 
Drunk  with  renown,  insatiable  of  war, 
Palls  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,  285 

Eoll'd  at  the  feet  of  unrelenting  Jove ! 
Eest  here :  myself  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,  290 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  73 

While  like  Deiphobus  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  belied : 

"  Too  long,  0  Hector !  have  I  borne  the  sight  295 

Of  this  distress,  and  sorrowed  in  thy  flight : 
It  fits  us  now  a  noble  stand  to  make, 
And  here,  as  brothers,  equal  fates  partake." 

Then  he  :  "0  prince  !  allied  in  blood  and  fame, 
Dearer  than  all  that  own  a  brother's  name ;  300 

Of  all  that  Hecuba  to  Priam  bore, 
Long  tried,  long  lov'd ;  much  lov'd,  but  honor'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,  305 

And  much  my  mother's,  press'd  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;  310 

Or  let  us  stretch  Achilles  on  the  field, 
Or  to  his  arm  our  bloody  trophies  yield." 

Eraudful  she  said ;  then  swiftly  march'd  before ; 
The  Dardan  hero  shuns  his  foe  no  more. 
Sternly  they  met.     The  silence  Hector  broke  ;  315 

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.  320 

Yet  on  the  verge  of  battle  let  us  stay, 
And  for  a  moment's  space  suspend  the  day  : 
Let  heav'n's  high  pow'rs  be  call'd  to  arbitrate 
The  just  conditions  of  this  stern  debate,     . 
(Eternal  witnesses  of  all  below,  325 


74  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  dishonor  shall  thy  corse  pursue ; 

Stripped  of  its  arms  alone  (the  conqueror's  due),  330 

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  flashed  from  his  disdainful  eyes), 
"  Detested  as  thou  art  and  ought  to  be,  335 

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  lasting  rancor  and  eternal  hate :  340 

No  thought  but  rage  and  never-ceasing  strife, 
Till  death  extinguish  rage,  and  thought,  and  life. 
Rouse  then  thy  forces  this  important  hour, 
Collect  thy  soul,  and  call  forth  all  thy  pow'r. 
No  farther  subterfuge,  no  farther  chance ;  345 

'Tis  Pallas,  Pallas  gives  thee  to  my  lance. 
Each  Grecian  ghost  by  thee  deprived  of  breath, 
Now  hovers  round,  and  calls  thee  to  thy  death." 

He  spoke,  and  launched  his  jav'lin  at  the  foe; 
But  Hector  shunn'd  the  meditated  blow ;  350 

He  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,  355 

Now  shakes  his  lance,  and  braves  the  dread  of  Troy. 

"The  life  you  boasted  to  that  jav'lin  giv'n, 
Prince  !  you  have  miss'd.     My  fate  depends  on  heav'n. 
To  thee  (presumptuous  as  thou  art)  unknown 
Or  what  must  prove  my  fortune  or  thy  own.  360 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  75 

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,  365 

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  370 

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  De'iphobus,  demands  a  spear,  375 

In  vain,  for  no  De'iphobus  was  there. 
All  comfortless  he  stands :  then  with  a  sigh : 
"'Tis  so  —  heaven  wills  it,  and  my  hour  is  nigh! 
I  deem'd  Deiphobus  had  heard  my  call, 
But  he  secure  lies  guarded  in  the  wall.  380 

A  god  deceived  me ;  Pallas,  'twas  thy  deed. 
Death  and  black  fate  approach !     'Tis  I  must  bleed. 
No  refuge  now,  no  succor  from  above, 
Great  Jove  deserts  me  and  the  son  of  Jove, 
Propitious  once  and  kind  !     Then  welcome  fate  !  385 

'Tis  true  I  perish,  yet  I  perish  great : 
Yet  in  a  mighty  deed  I  shall  expire, 
Let  future  ages  hear  it,  and  admire  ! " 

Pierce,  at  the  word,  his  weighty  sword  he  drew, 
And,  all  collected,  on  Achilles  flew.  390 

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  the  flaming  shield  he  bears, 
Refulgent  orb  !     Above  his  fourfold  cone  395 


76  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  400 

When  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,  405 

Securely  cas'd  the  warrior's  body  o'er. 

One  place  at  length  he  spies,  to  let  in  fate, 

Where  'twixt  the  neck  and  throat  the  jointed  plate 

Gave  entrance :  through  that  penetrable  part 

Furious  he  drove  the  well-directed  dart :  410 

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,  415 

Who  f ear'd  no  vengeance  for  Patroclus  slain : 
Then,  prince  !  you  should  have  f ear'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  laid.  420 

Peaceful  he  sleeps,  with  all  our  rites  adorn'd, 
For  ever  honor'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 :  425 

"  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  soothe  a  father's  and  a  mother's  woe ;  430 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  77 

Let  their  large  gifts  procure  an  urn  at  least, 
And  Hector's  ashes  in  his  country  rest." 

"  No,  wretch  accurs'd !  "  relentless  he  replies 
(Flames,  as  he  spoke,  shot  flashing  from  his  eyes), 
"  Not  those  who  gave  me  breath  should  bid  me  spare.,        435 
Nor  all  the  sacred  prevalence  of  pray'r, 
Could  I  myself  the  bloody  banquet  join! 
No,  to  the  dogs  that  carcass  I  resign. 
Should  Troy  to  bribe  me  bring  forth  all  her  store, 
And,  giving  thousands,  offer  thousands  more ;  440 

Should  Dardan  Priam  and  his  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 :  445 

"  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 ;  450 

Phoebus  and  Paris  shall  avenge  my  fate, 
And  stretch  thee  here,  before  this  Scsean  gate." 

He  ceas'd.     The  fates  suppressed  his  laboring  breath, 
And  his  eyes' stiffened  at  the  hand  of  death; 
To  the  dark  realm  the  spirit  wings  its  way  455 

(The  manly  body  left  a  load  of  clay), 
And  plaintive  glides  along  the  dreary  coast, 
A  naked,  wandering,  melancholy  ghost ! 

Achilles,  musing  as  he  roll'd  his  eyes 
O'er  the  dead  hero,  thus  (unheard)  replies  :  460 

"  Die  thou  the  first !  when  Jove  and  heav'n  ordain, 
I  follow  thee."  —  He  said,  and  stripped  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  465 


78  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

His  manly  beauty  and  superior  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  scattered  fate  !  "  470 

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  powerful  will  of  heav'n  475 

The  dire  destroyer  to  our  arm  has  giv'n, 
Is  not  Troy  f alPn  already  ?     Haste,  ye  pow'rs ! 
See  if  already  their  deserted  tow'rs 
Are  left  unmann'd ;  or  if  they  yet  retain 
The  souls  of  heroes,  their  great  Hector  slain.  480 

But  what  is  Troy,  or  glory  what  to  me  ? 
Or  why  reflect  my  mind  on  aught  but  thee, 
Divine  Patroclus  !     Death  has  seal'd  his  eyes : 
Unwept,  unhonor'd,  uninterr'd  he  lies  ! 

Can  his  dear  image  from  my  soul  depart,  485 

Long  as  the  vital  spirit  moves  my  heart  ? 
If,  in  the  melancholy  shades  below, 
The  flames  of  friends  and  lovers  cease  to  glow, 
Yet  mine  shall  sacred  last ;  mine,  undecay'd, 
Burn  on  through  death  and  animate  my  shade.  490 

Meanwhile,  ye  sons  of  Greece !  in  triumph  bring 
The  corpse  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  495 

(Unworthy  of  himself  and  of  the  dead)  : 
The  nervous  ankles  bor'd,  his  feet  he  bound 
With  thongs  inserted  through  the  double  wound ; 
These  fixM  up  high  behind  the  rolling  wain, 
His  graceful  head  was  trail' d  along  the  plain.  500 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXII.  79 

Proud  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 ;  505 

The  face  divine  and  long-descending  hair 

Purple  the  ground,  and  streak  the  sable  sand; 

Def orm'd,  dishonored,  in  his  native  land ! 

Giv'n  to  the  rage  of  an  insulting  throng ! 

And,  in  his  parents'  sight,  now  dragg'd  along !  510 

The  mother  first  beheld  with  sad  survey ; 
She  rent  her  tresses,  venerably  gray, 
And  cast  far  off  the  regal  veils  away. 
With  piercing  shrieks  his  bitter  fate  she  moans, 
While  the  sad  father  answers  groans  with  groans ;  515 

Tears  after  tears  his  mournful  cheeks  overflow, 
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,  520 

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 :  525 

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 ;  530 

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  grief  perhaps  his  pity  may  engage  ; 
Perhaps  at  least  he  may  respect  my  age.  535 


80  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

He  has  a  father  too ;  a  man  like  me ; 

One  not  exempt  from  age  and  misery 

(Vigorous  no  more,  as  when  his  young  embrace 

Begot  his  pest  of  me  and  all  my  race). 

How  many  valiant  sons,  in  early  bloom,  540 

Has  that  curs'd  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  pass'd  in  peace, 

The  son  expiring  in  the  sire's  embrace,  545 

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  waiPd  the  father,  grov'ling  on  the  ground,  550 

And  all  the  eyes  of  Ilion  streamed  around. 

Amidst  her  matrons  Hecuba  appears 
(A  mourning  princess,  and  a  train  in  tears) : 
"  Ah !  why  has  heaven  prolonged  this  hated  breath, 
Patient  of  horrors,  to  behold  thy  death  ?  555 

O  Hector !  late  thy  parents'  pride  and  joy, 
The  boast  of  nations  !  the  defense  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  560 

A  senseless  corpse  !  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  Scsean  gate.  565 

Far  in  the  close  recesses  of  the  dome 
Pensive  she  plied  the  melancholy  loom ; 
A  growing  work  employed  her  secret  hours, 
Confus'dly  gay  with  intermingled  flow'rs. 
Her  fair-hair'd  handmaids  heat  the  brazen  urn,  570 


THE   ILIAD BOOK   XXII.  81 

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  clamors  reach  her  ear, 

And  all  her  members  shake  with  sudden  fear ;  575 

Forth  from  her  iv'ry  hand  the  shuttle  falls, 

As  thus,  astonish'd,  to  her  maids  she  calls : 

"  Ah,  follow  me  ! "  (she  cried)  "  what  plaintive  noise 
Invades  my  ear  ?     'Tis  sure  my  mother's  voice. 
My  falt'ring  knees  their  trembling  frame  desert,  580 

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  585 

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,  590 

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  through  the  dome  (the  maids  her  step  pursue), 
And  mounts  the  walls,  and  sends  around  her  view.  595 

Too  soon  her  eyes  the  killing  object  found, 
The  godlike  Hector  dragg'd  along  the  ground. 
A  sudden  darkness  shades  her  swimming  eyes : 
She  faints,  she  falls ;  her  breath,  her  color  flies. 
Her  hair's  fair  ornaments,  the  braids  that  bound,  600 

The  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.  605 


82  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Scarce  from  the  verge  of  death  recall'd,  again 
She  faints,  or  but  recovers  to  complain : 

"  0  wretched  husband  of  a  wretched  wife ! 
Born  with  one  fate,  to  one  unhappy  life ! 
For  sure  one  star  its  baneful  beam  displayed  610 

On  Priam's  roof  and  Hippoplacia's  shade. 
From  diff 'rent  parents,  different  climes,  we  came, 
At  diff 'rent  periods,  yet  our  fate  the  same ! 
Why  was  my  birth  to  great  Eetion  ow'd, 
And  why  was  all  that  tender  care  bestow'd  ?  615 

Would  I  had  never  been !  —  0  thou,  the  ghost 
Of  my  dead  husband !  miserably  lost ! 
Thou  to  the  dismal  realms  for  ever  gone ! 
And  I  abandoned,  desolate,  alone ! 

An  only  child,  once  comfort  of  my  pains,  620 

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 !  625 

Ev'n  from  his  own  paternal  roof  expell'd, 
Some  stranger  plows  his  patrimonial  field. 
The  day  that  to  the  shades  the  father  sends, 
Kobs  the  sad  orphan  of  his  father's  friends : 
He,  wretched  outcast  of  mankind !  appears  630 

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 :  635 

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  :  °  640 


! 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  83 

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.  645 

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  650 

Astyanax,  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  !  li'st  expos'd  in  air, 

Far  from  thy  parents'  and  thy  consort's  care,  655 

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,  660 

And  honor  to  the  living,  not  the  dead  ! " 

So  spake  the  mournful  dame :  her  matrons  hear, 
Sigh  back  her  sighs,  and  answer  tear  with  tear. 

BOOK  XXIV. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

THE  REDEMPTION  OF  THE  BODY  OF  HECTOR. 

The  gods  deliberate  about  the  redemption  of  Hector's  body.  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  encouraged  by  an  omen  from  Jupiter. 
He  sets  forth  in  his  chariot,  with  a  wagon  loaded  with  presents, 
under  the  charge  of  Idseus  the  herald.     Mercury  descends  in  the  shape 


84  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

of  a  young  man,  and  conducts  him  to  the  pavilion  of  Achilles.  Their 
conversation  on  the  way.  Priam  finds  Achilles  at  his  table,  casts  him- 
self at  his  feet,  and  begs  for  the  body  of  his  son :  Achilles,  moved 
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  lamentation  of  Andromache,  Hecuba,  and 
Helen,  with  the  solemnities  of  the  funeral. 

The  time  of  twelve  days  is  employed  in  this  book,  while  the  body  of 
Hector  lies  in  the  tent  of  Achilles.  And  as  many  more  are  spent  in 
the  truce  allowed  for  his  interment.  The  scene  is  partly  in  Achilles' 
camp,  and  partly  in  Troy. 

Now  from  the  finished  games  the  Grecian  band 
Seek  their  black  ships,  and  clear  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  resigned,  5 

His  friend's  dear  image  present  to  his  mind, 
Takes  his  sad  couch,  more  unobserved  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 :  10 

The  form  so  pleasing  and  the  heart  so  kind, 
That  youthful  vigor  and  that  manly  mind, 
What  toils  they  shar'd,  what  martial  works  they  wrought, 
What  seas  they  measured  and  what  fields  they  fought ;  — 
All  pass'd  before  him  in  remembrance  dear :  15 

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.  20 

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  25 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   XXIV.  85 

Was  Hector  dragg'd,  then  hurried  to  the  tent. 

There  sleep  at  last  o'ercomes  the  hero's  eyes ; 

While  foul  in  dust  th'  unhonor'd  carcass  lies, 

But  not  deserted  by  the  pitying  skies. 

For  Phoebus  watch' d  it  with  superior  care ;  30 

Preserved  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  niov'd,  and  Hermes  wilPd  to  go 

By  stealth  to  snatch  him  from  th'  insulting  foe :  35 

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),  40 

Their  charms  rejected  for  the  Cyprian  queen. 

But  when  the  tenth  celestial  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 !  45 

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  honors  of  a  fun'ral  fire  ? 

Is  then  the  dire  Achilles  all  your  care  ?  50 

That  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  ?  55 

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,  60 


86  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Heav'n  dooms  each  mortal,  and  its  will  is  done : 

Awhile  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 :  65 

Lo  how  his  rage  dishonest  drags  along 

Hector's  dead  earth,  insensible  of  wrong ! 

Brave  though  he  be,  yet  by  no  reason  aw'd, 

He  violates  the  laws  of  man  and  God." 

"If  equal  honors  by  the  partial  skies  70 

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 :  75 

Achilles,  of  your  own  ethereal  race, 
Springs  from  a  goddess  by  a  man's  embrace 
(A  goddess  by  ourself  to  Peleus  giv'n, 
A  man  divine,  and  chosen  friend  of  heav'n) : 
To  grace  those  nuptials,  from  the  bright  abode  80 

Yourselves  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  ;  85 

Their  merits  nor  their  honors  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  honors  men  to  gods  can  pay)  :  90 

Nor  ever  from  our  smoking  altar  ceas'd 
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  95 


THE  ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  87 

The  azure  queen ;  let  her  persuasion  move 

Her  furious  son  from  Priam  to  receive 

The  proffer'd  ransom,  and  the  corse  to  leave." 

He  added  not :  and  Iris  from  the  skies 
Swift  as  a  whirlwind  on  the  message  flies ;  100 

Meteorous  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)  ;  105 

She  plung'd,  and  instant  shot  the  dark  profound. 
As,  bearing  death  in  the  fallacious  bait, 
From  the  bent  angle  sinks  the  leaden  weight ; 
So  pass'd  the  goddess  through  the  closing  wave 
Where  Thetis  sorrowed  in  her  secret  cave :  110 

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  godlike  son's  approaching  doom. 

Then  thus  the  goddess  of  the  painted  bow :  115 

"  Arise,  0  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 !  120 

Howe'er,  be  heav'n's  almighty  sire  obeyed." 
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  through  the  world  of  waters  they  repair  125 

(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  lightning's  blaze  the  sire  they  found, 
And  all  the  gods  in  shining  synod  round.  130 


88  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Thetis  approached  with  anguish  in  her  face 

(Minerva  rising  gave  the  mourner  place)  ; 

E'en  Juno  sought  her  sorrows  to  console, 

And  offer'd  from  her  hand  the  nectar  bowl : 

She  tasted,  and  resigned  it :  then  began  135 

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.  140 

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  godlike  foe 
By  stealth  should  bear  him,  but  we  will'd  not  so : 
We  will  thy  son  himself  the  corse  restore,  145 

And  to  his  conquest  add  this  glory  more. 
Then  hie  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  :  150 

But  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  honor  asks  or  heart  demands." 

His  word  the  silver-footed  queen  attends,  155 

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 
Eepast  unheeded,  while  he  vents  his  woes.  160 

The  goddess  seats  her  by  her  pensive  son : 
She  press'd  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  165 


I 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  89 

Soothes  weary  life  and  softens  human  pain  ? 

Oh  snatch  the  moments  yet  within  thy  pow'r ; 

Not  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.  170 

No  longer  then  (his  fury  if  thou  dread) 

Detain  the  relics  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,  175 

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 ;  180 

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,  185 

May  the  slow  mules  and  fun'ral  car  command. 
Nor  let  him  death  nor  let  him  danger  dread, 
Safe  through  the  foe  by  our  protection  led : 
Him  Hermes  to  Achilles  shall  convey, 

Guard  of  his  life  and  partner  of  his  way.  190 

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,  195 

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  wrapp'd  attire  200 


90  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Conceal'd  from  sight ;  with  frantic  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  clamors  fill  the  vaulted  dome ; 

Mindful  of  those  who,  late  their  pride  and  joy,  .205 

Lie  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,  0  father !   no  ill  news  I  bear ; 
From  Jove  I  come,  Jove  makes  thee  still  his  care ;  210 

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  215 

May  the  slow  mules  and  fun'ral  car  command. 
Nor  shalt  thou  death  nor  shalt  thou  danger  dread ; 
Safe  through  the  foe  by  his  protection  led : 
Thee  Hermes  to  Pelides  shall  convey, 

Guard  of  thy  life  and  partner  of  thy  way.  220 

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  225 

His  gentle  mules,  and  harness  to  the  car ; 
There,  for  the  gifts,  a  polish'd  casket  lay : 
His  pious  sons  the  king's  commands  obey. 
Then  pass'd  the  monarch  to  his  bridal-room, 
Where  cedar  beams  the  lofty  roofs  perfume,  230 

And  where  the  treasures  of  his  empire  lay; 
Then  call'd  his  queen,  and  thus  began  to  say : 

"  Unhappy  consort  of  a  king  distress'd ! 
Partake  the  troubles  of  thy  husband's  breast : 
I  saw  descend  the  messenger  of  Jove,  235 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  91 

Who  bids  me  try  Achilles'  mind  to  move, 

Forsake  these  ramparts,  and  with  gifts  obtain 

The  corse  of  Hector  at  yon  navy  slain. 

Tell  me  thy  thought :  my  heart  impels  to  go 

Through  hostile  camps,  and  bears  me  to  the  foe."  240 

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, 
Through  Phrygia  once,  and  foreign  regions  known,  245 

Now  all  confus'd,  distracted,  overthrown  ? 
Singly  to  pass  through  hosts  of  foes  !   to  face 
(0  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 !  250 

Alas  !  my  lord !  he  knows  not  how  to  spare, 
And  what  his  mercy,  thy  slain  sons  declare ; 
So  brave,  so  many  f alPn !  to  calm  his  rage 
Vain  were  thy  dignity  and  vain  thy  age. 
No !  —  pent  in  this  sad  palace,  let  us  give  255 

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 !  260 

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  inactive  death  : 

He  pour'd  his  latest  blood  in  manly  fight,  265 

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 " 
(Replied  unmov'd  the  venerable  man)  : 
"  'Tis  heav'n  commands  me,  and  you  urge  in  vain.  270 


92  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Had  any  mortal  voice  th'  injunction  laid, 

Nor  augur,  priest,  nor  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 :  275 

If  in  yon  camp  your  pow'rs  have  doom'd  my  fall, 

Content :  by  the  same  hand  let  me  expire  ! 

Add  to  the  slaughtered  son  the  wretched  sire ! 

One  cold  embrace  at  least  may  be  allow'd, 

And  my  last  tears  flow  mingled  with  his  blood ! "  280 

Forth  from  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,  285 

With  ten  pure  talents  from  the  richest  mine ; 
And  last  a  large,  well-labor'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 !  290 

Lo !  the  sad  father,  frantic  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)  295 

"  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  ?  300 

No,  you  must  feel  him  too :  yourselves  must  fall ; 
The  same  stern  god  to  ruin  gives  you  all. 
Nor  is  great  Hector  lost  by  me  alone : 
Your  sole  defense,  your  guardian  pow'r  is  gone ! 
I  see  your  blood  the  fields  of  Phrygia  drown ;  305 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIY.  93 

I  see  the  ruins  of  your  smoking  town ! 

Oh  send  me,  gods,  ere  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  frantic  rage  obey.  310 

Next  on  his  sons  his  erring  fury  falls, 
Polites,  Paris,  Agathon,  he  calls ; 
His  threats  Deiphobus  and  Dius  hear, 
Hippothotis,  Pammon,  Helenus  the  seer, 
And  gen'rous  Antiphon ;  for  yet  these  nine  315 

Survived,  sad  relics  of  his  numerous  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 !  320 

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  terrestrial  line !  — 
All  those  relentless  Mars  untimely  slew,  325 

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  ?  "  330 

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,  emboss'd  with  costly  pains,  335 

And  hung  with  ringlets  to  receive  the  reins : 
Nine  cubits  long,  the  traces  swept  the  ground ; 
These  to  the  chariot's  polish'd  pole  they  bound, 
Then  fix'd  a  ring  the  running  reins  to  guide, 
And  close  beneath  the  gather'd  ends  were  tied.  340 


94  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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,  345 

Himself  receiv'd,  and  harness'd  to  his  car  : 

Griev'd  as  he  was,  he  not  this  task  denied ; 

The  hoary  herald  help'd  him  at  his  side. 

While  careful  these  the  gentle  coursers  join'd, 

Sad  Hecuba  approach'd  with  anxious  mind ;  350 

A  golden  bowl  that  foam'd  with  fragrant  wine 

(Libation  destin'd  to  the  power  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,    355 
His  gra,ce  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,  360 

His  winged  messenger  to  send  from  high, 
And  lead  the  way  with  heav'nly  augury  : 
Let  the  strong  sovereign  of  the  plumy  race 
Tow'r  on  the  right  of  yon  ethereal  space. 
That  sign  beheld,  and  strengthened  from  above,  365 

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  ?  "  370 

He  spoke,  and  bade  th'  attendant  handmaid  bring 
The  purest  water  of  the  living  spring 
(Her  ready  hands  the  ewer  and  bason  held) ; 
Then  took  the  golden  cup  his  queen  had  filPd ; 
On  the  mid  pavement  pours  the  rosy  wine,  375 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  95 

Uplifts  his  eyes,  and  calls  the  power  divine : 
"0  first  and  greatest!  heavVs  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.  380 

If  such  thy  will,  dispatch  from  yonder  sky 

Thy  sacred  bird,  celestial  augury ! 

Let  the  strong  sovereign  of  the  plumy  race 

Tow'r  on  the  right  of  yon  ethereal  space  : 

So  shall  thy  suppliant,  strengthened  from  above,  385 

Fearless  pursue  the  journey  marked  by  Jove." 

Jove  heard  his  pray'r,  and  from  the  throne  on  high 

Dispatch' d  his  bird,  celestial  augury  ! 

The  swift-wing'd  chaser  of  the  feather'd  game, 

And  known  to  gods  by  Percnos'  lofty  name.  390 

Wide  as  appears  some  palace  gate  displayed, 

So  broad  his  pinions  stretch'd  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 ;  395 

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 ;  Idseus  holds  the  rein :  400 

The  king  himself  his  gentle  steeds  controls, 

And  through  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  pass'd,  405 

And  gaze  upon  him  as  they  gaz'd  their  last. 
Now  forward  fares  the  father  on  his  way 

Through  the  lone  fields,  and  back  to  Ilion  they. 

Great  Jove  beheld  him  as  he  cross'd  the  plain, 

And  felt  the  wees  of  miserable  man.  410 


96  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Then  thus  to  Hermes  :  "  Thou,  whose  constant  cares 

Still  succor  mortals,  and  attend  their  pray'rs ! 

Behold  an  object  to  thy  charge  consigned ; 

If  ever  pity  touch'd  thee  for  mankind, 

Go,  guard  the  sire  ;  th'  observing  foe  prevent,  415 

And  safe  conduct  him  to  Achilles'  tent." 

The  god  obeys,  his  golden  pinions  binds, 
And  mounts  incumbent  on  the  wings  of  winds, 
That  high  through  fields  of  air  his  flight  sustain 
O'er  the  wide  earth  and  o'er  the  boundless  main ;  420 

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,  majestic  and  divine,  425 

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  chariot  stopping  at  the  silver  spring,  430 

That  circling  Ilus'  ancient  marble  flows, 
Allow'd  their  mules  and  steeds  a  short  repose. 
Through  the  dim  shade  the  herald  first  espies 
A  man's  approach,  and  thus  to  Priam  cries : 
"  I  mark  some  foe's  advance :  0  king !  beware ;  435 

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  ?  "  440 

Th'  afflicted  monarch  shiver'd  with  despair ; 
Pale  grew  his  face  and  upright  stood  his  hair ; 
Sunk  was  his  heart ;  his  color  went  and  came ; 
A  sudden  trembling  shook  his  aged  frame  ; 
When  Hermes,  greeting,  touch'd  his  royal  hand,  445 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  97 

And,  gentle,  thus  accosts  with  kind  demand : 

"  Say  whither,  father  !  when  each  mortal  sight 
Is  seal'd  in  sleep,  thou  wander'st  through  the  night  ? 
Why  roam  thy  mules  and  steeds  the  plains  along 
Through  Grecian  foes  so  numerous  and  so  strong  ?  450 

What  couldst  thou  hope,  shouldst  these  thy  treasures  view, 
These,  who  with  endless  hate  thy  race  pursue  ? 
For  what  defense,  alas  !  couldst  thou  provide, 
Thyself  not  young,  a  weak  old  man  thy  guide  ? 
Yet  suffer  not  thy  soul  to  sink  with  dread ;  455 

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  rejoined.  460 

"  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 
Appear  thy  form,  thy  feature,  and  thy  mind." 

"Nor  true  are  all  thy  words,  nor  erring  wide,"  465 

The  sacred  messenger  of  heav'n  replied ; 
"  But  say,  convey'st  thou  through  the  lonely  plains 
What  yet  most  precious  of  thy  store  remains, 
To  lodge  m  safety  with  some  friendly  hand, 
Prepared  perchance  to  leave  thy  native  land  ?  470 

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  godlike  Hector  died  ?  "  475 

Thus  Priam  spoke,  and  Hermes  thus  replied : 

"  You  tempt  me,  father,  and  with  pity  touch : 
On  this  sad  subject  you  inquire  too  much. 
Oft  have  these  eyes  the  godlike  Hector  view'd 
In  glorious  fight,  with  Grecian  blood  imbru'd :  480 


98  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

I  saw  him,  when,  like  Jove,  his  flames  he  toss'd 

On  thousand  ships,  and  withered  half  a  host : 

I  saw,  but  help'd  not ;  stern  Achilles'  ire 

Forbade  assistance,  and  enjoy 'd  the  fire. 

For  him  I  serve,  of  Myrmidonian  race ;  485 

One  ship  convey'd  us  from  our  native  place ; 

Polyctor  is  my  sire)  an  honor'd  name, 

Old,  like  thyself,  and  not  unknown  to  fame ; 

Of  seven  his  sons,  by  whom  the  lot  was  cast 

To  serve  our  prince,  it  fell  on  me  the  last.  490 

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  their  martial  rage." 

"  If  then  thou  art  of  stern  Pelides'  train  "  495 

(The  mournful  monarch  thus  rejoin'd  again), 
"  Ah,  tell  me  truly,  where,  oh !  where  are  laid 
My  son's  dear  relics  ?  what  befalls  him  dead  ? 
Have  dogs  dismembered  on  the  naked  plains, 
Or  yet  unmangled  rest  his  cold  remains  ?  "  500 

"  0  f avor'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  nested  there,  505 

Untouched  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,  510 

Majestical  in  death!     No  stains  are  found 
O'er  all  the  corse,  and  clos'd  is  ev'ry  wound ; 
Though  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  ,  515 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   XXIV.  99 

A  life  so  grateful,  still  regard  him  dead." 

Thus  spoke  to  Priam  the  celestial  guide, 
And  joyful  thus  the  royal  sire  replied: 
"  Bless'd  is  the  man  who  pays  the  gods  above 
The  constant  tribute  of  respect  and  love !  520 

Those  who  inhabit  the  Olympian  bow'r 
My  son  forgot  not,  in  exalted  pow'r ; 
And  Heav'ii,  that  ev'ry  virtue  bears  in  mind, 
Ev'n  to  the  ashes  of  the  just  is  kind. 

But  thou,  0  gen'rous  youth  !  this  goblet  take,  525 

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 :  "  0  king,  forbear 
To  tempt  my  youth  !  for  apt  is  youth  to  err :  530 

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'  offense;  535 

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."  540 

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  urged  them  on 
The  coursers  fly,  with  spirit  not  their  own. 
And  now  they  reach'd  the  naval  walls,  and  found  545 

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.  550 


100  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Unseen,  through  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  555 

(The  work  of  soldiers),  where  the  hero  sate. 

Large  was  the  door,  whose  well-compacted  strength 

A  solid  pine-tree  barr'd  of  wondrous  length ;        # 

Scarce  three  strong  Greeks  could  lift  its  mighty  weight, 

But  great  Achilles  singly  clos'd  the  gate.  560 

This  Hermes  (such  the  pow'r  of  gods)  set  wide ; 

Then  swift  alighted  the  celestial  guide, 

And  thus,  reveal'd :  "  Hear,  prince !  and  understand 

Thou  ow'st  thy  guidance  to  no  mortal  hand : 

Hermes  I  am,  descended  from  above  565 

The  king  of  arts,  the  messenger  of  Jove. 

Farewell :  to  shun  Achilles'  sight  I  fly ; 

Uncommon  are  such  favors  of  the  sky, 

Nor  stand  confess'd  to  frail  mortality. 

Now  fearless  enter  and  prefer  thy  pray'rs ;  570 

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 :  575 

The  king,  confirm' d  from  heav'n,  alighted  there, 
And  left  his  aged  herald  on  the  car. 
With  solemn  pace  through  various  rooms  he  went, 
And  found  Achilles  in  his  inner  tent : 

There  sat  the  hero ;  Alcimus  the  brave  580 

And  great  Automedon  attendance  gave ; 
These  serv'd  his  person  at  his  royal  feast ; 
Around,  at  awful  distance,  stood  the  rest. 

Unseen  by  these,  the  king  his  entry  made ; 
And,  prostrate  now  before  Achilles  laid,  585 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  101 

Sudden  (a  venerable  sight ! )  appears ; 
Einbrac'd  his  knees  and  bath'd  his  hands  in  tears ; 
Those  direful  hands  his  kisses  press'd,  imbru'd 
Ey'n  with  the  best,  the  dearest  of  his  blood ! 

As  when  a  wretch  (who,  conscious  of  his  crime,  590 

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  surprise ; 
All  mute,  yet  seem'd  to  question  with  their  eyes :  595 

Each  look'd  on  other,  none  the  silence  broke, 
Till  thus  at  last  the  kingly  suppliant  spoke: 

"  Ah  think,  thou  favor' d  of  the  pow'rs  divine  ! 
Think  of  thy  father's  age,  and  pity  mine ! 
In  me,  that  father's  rev'rend  image  trace,  600 

Those  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 
Expels  him  helpless  from  his  peaceful  state ;  605 

Think,  from  some  powerful  foe  thou  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  610 

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 !  ere  Greece  to  Ilion  came, 
The  pledge  of  many  a  lov'd  and  loving  dame !  615 

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  defense. 
Him  too  thy  rage  has  slain !  beneath  thy  steel,  620 


102  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Unhappy,  in  his  country's  cause  he  fell ! 

For  him  through  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  !  625 

Think  of  thy  father  and  this  face  behold ! 

See  him  in  me,  as  helpless  and  as  old ; 

Though  not  so  wretched :  there  he  yields  to  me, 

The  first  of  men  in  sovereign  misery : 

Thus  forc'd  to  kneel,  thus  grov'ling  to  embrace  630 

The  scourge  and  ruin  of  my  realm  and  race ; 

Suppliant  my  children's  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.  635 

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,  640 

A  father  one,  and  one  a  son,  deplore : 
But  great  Achilles  different  passions  rend, 
And  now  his  sire  he  mourns,  and  now  his  friend. 
Th'  infectious  softness  through  the  heroes  ran ; 
One  universal  solemn  show'r  began ;  645 

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  majestic  gaz'd,  650 

Not  unrelenting :  then  serene  began 
With  words  to  soothe  the  miserable  man : 

"  Alas !  what  weight  of  anguish  hast  thou  known, 
Unhappy  prince !  thus  guardless  and  alone 
To  pass  through  foes,  and  thus  undaunted  face  655 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   XXIV.  103 

The  man  whose  fury  has  destroyed  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.  660 

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,  665 

Blessings  to  these,  to  those  distributes  ills ; 

To  most  he  mingles  both :  the  wretch  decreed 

To  taste  the  bad,  unmix'd,  is  curs'd  indeed; 

Pursued  by  wrongs,  by  meager  famine  driv'n, 

He  wanders,  outcast  both  of  earth  and  heav'n.  670 

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  bless'd  his  natal  hour  ! 

A  realm,  a  goddess,  to  his  wishes  giv'n,  675 

Grac'd  by  the  gods  with  all  the  gifts  of  heav'n ! 

One  evil  yet  overtakes  his  latest  day ; 

No  race  succeeding  to  imperial  sway : 

An  only  son !  and  he  (alas !)  ordain' d 

To  fall  untimely  in  a  foreign  land !  680 

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,  685 

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  ?  690 


104  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  canst  not  call  him  from  the  Stygian  shore, 

But  thou,  alas  !  mayst  live  to  suffer  more  ! "  695 

To  whom  the  king :  "  0  f avor'd  of  the  skies  ! 
Here  let  me  grow  to  earth !  since  Hector  lies 
On  the  bare  beach,  deprived  of  obsequies. 
Oh  give  me  Hector !  to  my  eyes  restore 
His  corse,  and  take  the  gifts  !  I  ask  no  more  :  700 

Thou,  as  thou  mayst,  these  boundless  stores  enjoy ; 
Safe  mayst  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,  705 

While  kindling  anger  sparkled  in  his  eyes ; 
"  Nor  seek  by  tears  my  steady  soul  to  bend ; 
To  yield  thy  Hector  I  myself  intend  : 
For  know,  from  Jove  my  goddess  mother  came 
(Old  Ocean's  daughter,  silver-footed  dame) ;  710 

Nor  com'st  thou  but  by  heav'n,  nor  com'st  alone ; 
Some  god  impels  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.  715 

Cease ;  lest,  neglectful  of  high  Jove's  command, 
I  shew  thee,  king,  thou  tread'st  on  hostile  land ! 
Belease  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'eraw'd.  720 

Achilles  like  a  lion  rush'd  abroad ; 
Automedon  and  Alcimus  attend, 
Whom  most  he  honor'd  since  he  lost  his  friend ; 
These  to  unyoke  the  mules  and  horses  went, 
And  led  the  hoary  herald  to  the  tent ;  725 


THE    ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  105 

Next,  heap'd  on  high,  the  numerous  presents  bear 

(Great  Hector's  ransom)  from  the  polish'd  car. 

Two  splendid  mantles  and  a  carpet  spread 

They  leave,  to  cover  and  enwrap  the  dead : 

Then  call  the  handmaids,  with  assistant  toil  730 

To  wash  the  body,  and  anoint  with  oil, 

Apart  from  Priam  ;  lest  th7  unhappy  sire, 

Provok'd  to  passion,  once  more  rouse  to  ire 

The  stern  Pelides  ;  and  nor  sacred  age 

Nor  Jove's  command  should  check  the  rising  rage.  735 

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,  740 

The  deeds  of  mortals  touch  the  ghosts  below, 
0  friend  !  forgive  me  that  I  thus  fulfill 
(Restoring  Hector)  heav'n's  unquestioned  will. 
The  gifts  the  father  gave  be  ever  thine, 
To  grace  thy  manes  and  adorn  thy  shrine."  745 

He  said,  and  entering  took  his  seat  of  state, 
Where  full  before  him  rev'rend  Priam  sate : 
To  whom,  composed,  the  godlike  chief  begun : 
"  Lo  !  to  thy  pray'r  restored,  thy  breathless  son ; 
Extended  on  the  fun'ral  couch  he  lies  ;  750 

And  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,  0  father  !  thus  consumed  with  woe,  755 

The  common  cares  that  nourish  life  forego. 
Not  thus  did  Niobe,  of  form  divine, 
A  parent  once,  whose  sorrows  equaPd  thine : 
Six  youthful  sons,  as  many  blooming  maids, 
In  one  sad  day  beheld  the  Stygian  shades ;  760 


106  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

Those  by  Apollo's  silver  bow  were  slain, 

These  Cynthia's  arrow  stretch' d  upon  the  plain. 

So  was  her  pride  ehastis'd  by  wrath  divine, 

Who  match'd  her  own  with  bright  Latona's  line ; 

But  two  the  goddess,  twelve  the  queen  enjoy'd ;  765 

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)  :  770 

The  gods  themselves,  at  length  relenting,  gave 

Th'  unhappy  race  the  honors  of  a  grave. 

Herself  a  rock  (for  such  was  heav'n's  high  will), 

Through  deserts  wild  now  pours  a  weeping  rill ; 

Where  round  the  bed  whence  Acheloiis  springs,  775 

The  wat'ry  fairies  dance  in  mazy  rings : 

There  high  on  Sipylus's  shaggy  brow 

She  stands,  her  own  sad  monument  of  woe ; 

The  rock  for  ever  lasts,  the  tears  for  ever  flow. 

Such  griefs,  0  king!  have  other  parents  known:  780 

Remember  theirs,  and  mitigate  thy  own. 

The  care  of  heav'n  thy  Hector  has  appear'd ; 

Nor  shall  he  lie  unwept  and  uninterr'd ; 

Soon  may  thy  aged  cheeks  in  tears  be  drown' d, 

And  all  the  eyes  of  Ilion  stream  around."  785 

He  said,  and,  rising,  chose  the  victim  ewe 
With  silver  fleece,  which  his  attendants  slew. 
The  limbs  they  sever  from  the  reeking  hide, 
With  skill  prepare  them,  and  in  parts  divide : 
Each  on  the  coals  the  sep'rate  morsels  lays,  790 

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.  795 


THE   ILIAD 


BOOK   XXIV. 


107 


When  now  the  rage  of  hunger  was  repressed, 

The  wond'ring  hero  eyes  his  royal  guest ; 

No  less  the  royal  guest  the  hero  eyes, 

His  godlike  aspect  and  majestic  size  ; 

Here  youthful  grace  and  noble  fire  engage,  800 

And  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 :  805 

For  since  the  day  that  numbered  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,  encouraged  by  the  grace  you  give,  810 

I  share  thy  banquet  and  consent  to  live." 

With  that,  Achilles  bade  prepare  the  bed, 
With  purple  soft  and  shaggy  carpets  spread ; 
Forth  by  the  naming  lights  they  bend  their  way, 
And  place  the  couches,  and  the  coverings  lay.  815 

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  tent,  820 

Perchance  behold  thee  and  our  grace  prevent. 
Should  such  report  thy  honored  person  here, 
The  king  of  men  the  ransom  might  defer. 
But  say  with  speed,  if  aught  of  thy  desire 
Remains  unask'd,  what  time  the  rites  require  825 

T?  inter  thy  Hector  ?     For  so  long  we  stay 
Our  slaughtering  arm,  and  bid  the  hosts  obey." 
"  If  then  thy  will  permit,"  the  monarch  said, 
"  To  finish  all  due  honors  to  the  dead, 
This  of  thy  grace  accord :  to  thee  are  known  830 


108  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  f  un'ral  and  the  feast ;  835 

The  next  to  raise  his  monument  be  giv'n ; 

The  twelfth  we  war,  if  war  be  doom'd  by  heav'n ! " 

"This  thy  request"  (replied  the  chief)  "enjoy: 
Till  then  our  arms  suspend  the  fall  of  Troy." 
Then  gave  his  hand  at  parting,  to  prevent  840 

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.  845 

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,  850 

And,  "  Sleep'st  thou,  father?  "  (thus  the  vision  said) 
"  Now  dost  thou  sleep  when  Hector  is  restor'd  ? 
Nor  fear  the  Grecian  foes  or  Grecian  lord  ? 
Thy  presence  here  should  stern  Atrides  see, 
Thy  still-surviving  sons  may  sue  for  thee ;  855 

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,  860 

And  moves  in  silence  through  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.  865 


THE   ILIAD — BOOK   XXIV.  109 

Now  shed  Aurora  round  her  saffron  ray, 
Sprung  through  the  gates  of  light,  and  gave  the  day. 
Charg'd  with  their  mournful  load  to  Ilion  go 
The  sage  and  king,  majestically  slow. 

Cassandra  first  beholds  from  Ilion's  spire  870 

The  sad  procession  of  her  hoary  sire ; 
Then,  as  the  pensive  pomp  advanced  more  near 
(Her  breathless  brother  stretch'd  upon  the  bier), 
A  show'r  of  tears  overflow  her  beauteous  eyes, 
Alarming  thus  all  Ilion  with  her  cries :  875 

"  Turn  here  your  steps  and  here  your  eyes  employ, 
Ye  wretched  daughters  and  ye  sons  of  Troy ! 
If  e'er  ye  rushed  in  crowds  with  vast  delight 
To  hail  your  hero  glorious  from  the  fight, 
Now  meet  him  dead,  and  let  your  sorrows  flow !  880 

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  shewn, 
And  Troy  sends  forth  one  universal  groan.  885 

At  Scsea'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  scattered  hair : 
Thus  wildly  wailing,  at  the  gates  they  lay,  890 

And  there  had  sigh'd  and  sorrowed  out  the  day ; 
But  godlike  Priam  from  the  chariot  rose : 
"  Forbear,"  he  cried,  "  this  violence  of  woes ; 
First  to  the  x^alace  let  the  car  proceed, 
Then  pour  your  boundless  sorrows  o'er  the  dead."  895 

The  waves  of  people  at  his  word  divide  ; 
Slow  rolls  the  chariot  through  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  900 


110  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

With  plaintive  sighs  and  music'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.  905 

First  to  the  corse  the  weeping  consort  flew ; 
Around  his  neck  her  milk-white  arms  she  threw : 
And,  "  0  my  Hector  !  0  my  lord !  "  she  cries  ; 
"  Snatch'd  in  thy  bloom  from  these  desiring  eyes ! 
Thou  to  the  dismal  realms  for  ever  gone !  910 

And  I  abandoned,  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 ;  915 

For  Ilion  now  (her  great  defender  slain) 
Shall  sink,  a  smoking  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  920 

(Those  wives  must  wait  them)  to  a  foreign  shore ! 
Thou  too,  my  son !  to  barbarous  climes  shalt  go, 
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 :  925 

Or  else  some  Greek,  whose  father  press'd  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  :  930 

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  ?  935 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  Ill 

Some  word  thou  wouldst  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 ;  940 

Her  weeping  handmaids  echo  groan  for  groan. 

The  mournful  mother  next  sustains  her  part : 
"  0  thou,  the  best,  the  dearest  to  my  heart ! 
Of  all  my  race  thou  most  by  heav'n  approved, 
And  by  th'  immortals  ev'n  in  death  belov'd !  945 

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. 

Sentenced,  'tis  true,  by  his  inhuman  doom,  950 

Thy  noble  corse  was  dragg'd  around  the  tomb 
(The  tomb  of  him  thy  warlike  arm  had  slain) ; 
Ungenerous  insult,  impotent  and  vain ! 
Yet  glow'st  thou  fresh  with  ev'ry  living  grace, 
No  mark  of  pain  or  violence  of  face ;  955 

Kosy  and  fair  !  as  Phoebus'  silver  bow 
Dismissed  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  960 

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  965 

(Oh  had  I  perish' d,  ere  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  curs'd  the  auth'ress  of  their  woe,  970 


112  ALEXANDER   POPE. 

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  myself  in  thee,  975 

The  wretched  source  of  all  this  misery ! 

The  fate  I  caus'd  for  eve?  I  bemoan ; 

Sad  Helen  has  no  friend  now  thou  art  gone ! 

Through  Troy's  wide  streets  abandoned  shall  I  roam, 

In  Troy  deserted,  as  abhorr'd  at  home  !  "  980 

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,  985 

And  fell  the  forests  for  a  fun'ral  pyre ; 
Twelve  days,  nor  foes  nor  secret  ambush  dread ; 
Achilles  grants  these  honors  to  the  dead." 

He  spoke;  and  at  his  word  the  Trojan  train 
Their  mules  and  oxen  harness  to  the  wain,  990 

Pour  through  the  gates,  and,  felPd  from  Ida's  crown, 
Roll  back  the  gathered  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,  995 

Forth  to  the  pile  was  borne  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  luster  streak' d  the  dewy  lawn,  1000 

Again  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  rolPd  1005 


THE   ILIAD  —  BOOK   XXIV.  113 

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).  1010 

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  sepulchral  feast. 

Such  honors  Ilion  to  her  hero  paid,  1015 

And  peaceful  slept  the  mighty  Hector's  shade. 


LIST   OF  PEOPER   NAMES 


IN 


POPE'S    ILIAD,    BOOKS   L,  VI.,   XXII.,   XXIV. 


■•O*- 


Ablerus. 
Acamas. 

Achelotis. 
Achilles. 

Adrastus. 

iEneas. 

Agamemnon. 

Agathon. 
Ajax. 
Alcimus. 
Aleian  Field. 

Amazons. 
Andromache. 
Antsea. 
Antenor. 

Aretaon. 
Argos. 

Arisba. 
Artemis. 

Astyanax. 


A  Trojan  warrior. 

Son  of  Theseus  and  Phaedra.      Son-in-law  of 

Priam. 
The  largest  river  in  Greece. 
Son  of  Peleus  and  Thetis.     Bravest  of  the 

Greeks. 
Son  of  Talaus,  king  of  Argos. 
Son  of  Anchises.     A  Trojan  warrior. 
Son  of  Atreus,  king  of  Mycense.     Brother  of 

Menelaus. 
Son  of  Priam. 

Son  of  Telamon,  king  of  Salamis. 
A  Grecian  warrior.     Friend  of  Achilles. 
Between  the  rivers  Pyramus  and  Pinarus  in 

Cilicia. 
Warlike  race  of  females  in  Asia  Minor. 
Daughter  of  Eetion.     Wife  of  Hector. 
Demeter.     Goddess.    Mother  Earth. 
Son  of  Aesyetes  and  Cleomestra.    A  Trojan 

elder. 
A  Trojan  warrior. 
Agrolis  and  the  Peloponnesus,  named  from 

Argos. 
Colony  of  Mitylenseans  in  Troas. 
Daughter  of  Zeus  and  Latona.     Twin  sister 

of  Apollo.     Diana. 
Son  of  Hector  an  d  Andromache.  Scamandrius. 
114 


LIST   OF   PROPER   NAMES, 


115 


Astylus. 
Atreus. 

Atrides. 
Aurora. 

Automedon. 
Axylus. 

Bacchus. 
Briareus. 
Briseis. 

Bucolion. 

Calchas. 

Cassandra. 

Ceneus. 

Chimera. 

Chryseis. 

Cilia. 

Clytaemnestra. 

Colesius. 
Cynthia. 

Cyprian  Queen. 

Dardans. 

Deiphobus. 

Diana. 

Diomed  (Diomedes), 

Dius. 

Dresus. 

Dry  as. 

Eetion. 

Elatus. 

Ephyre  (Ephyra). 

Euryalus. 


A  Trojan  warrior. 

Son  of  Pelops  and  Hippodamia.     Grandson 

of  Tantalus. 
Agamemnon.     Also  applied  to  Menelaus. 
Eos,  goddess  of  the  morning.      Daughter  of 

Hyperion  and  Thia,  and  sister  of  Helios. 
Son  of  Diores.     Charioteer  of  Achilles. 
Son  of  Teuthras,  king  of  Mysia. 

Dionysus.     God  of  wine.     Son  of  Zeus  and 

Semele\ 
iEgseon.     Son  of  Uranus  (Heaven)  and  Gaea 

(Earth). 
Hippodamia.     Daughter  of   Briseus,  king  of 

the  Leleges. 
Son  of  Laomedon  and  Calybe.    A  Trojan. 

A  Grecian  soothsayer. 

Prophetess.     Daughter  of  Priam  and  Hecuba. 

Surname  of  Zeus. 

Eire- breathing  monster  of  Lycia. 

Daughter  of  Chryses,  priest  of  Apollo. 

A  town  of  Troas,  near  Thebe. 

Wife  of  Agamemnon.     Daughter  of  Tynda- 

rus  and  Leda. 
Servant  of  Axylus. 
Surname  of  Artemis,  from  Mount  Cynthus  on 

Delos,  where  she  was  born. 
Aphrodite^  or  Venus. 

Trojans. 

Son  of  Priam  and  Hecuba. 

Artemis.     Virgin  goddess. 

King  of  iEtolia. 

Son  of  Priam. 

Son  of  Bucoleon  and  Abarbarea. 

A  mythical  personage. 

King  of  Thebe\     Father  of  Andromache. 

A  mythical  personage. 

Ancient  name  of  Corinth. 

Son  of  Mecisteus.     One  of  the  Epigoni. 


116 


LIST   OF   PROPER   NAMES. 


Eurybates. 
Eurypylus. 

Glaucus. 

Hector. 
Hecuba. 

Helen. 


Herald  of  Achilles. 
Hero  of  Ormenium. 


Greek  warrior. 


Lycian  prince.     Ally  of  the  Trojans. 

Eldest  son  of  Priam.     Chief  Trojan  hero. 
Daughter  of  Dymas  of  Phrygia.     Second  wife 

of  Priam. 
Daughter  of  Zeus  and  Leda.     Wife  of  Mene- 

laiis,  abducted  by  Paris. 


Helenus. 

A  seer.     Son  of  Priam. 

Hermes. 

Son  of  Zeus  and  Maia.    Mercury. 

Hippothoiis. 

Leader  of  the  Pelasgians  on  the  side  of  Troy. 

Hyperia's  Spring. 

Near  Pherae,  Thessaly. 

Idaeus. 

Herald  of  the  Trojans. 

Ilion. 

Troy.     Ilium. 

Imbros. 

Island  in  iEgean  Sea. 

Iris. 

Daughter  of  Thaumas  and  Electra.     Messen- 

• 

ger  of  the  gods. 

Juno. 

Wife  of  Jupiter  (Zeus).     Here\ 

Jupiter. 

King  of  the  gods.     Zeus.     Jove. 

Laodice\ 

Daughter  of   Priam  and   Hecuba.     Wife  of 

Helicaon. 

Laomedon. 

King  of  Troy.     Father  of  Priam. 

Lapithse. 

A  mythical  race  in  Thessaly.     Allies  of  the 

Greeks. 

Latona's  Son. 

Apollo.     Latona,  daughter  of  the  Titan  Coeus 

and  Phoebe'. 

Leitus. 

Son  of  Alector.     Commanded  the  Boeotians. 

Lemnos. 

An  iEgean  island,  sacred  to  Vulcan. 

Lycaon. 

Son  of  Priam.     Slain  by  Achilles. 

Lycurgus. 

King  of  Edones,  in  Thrace. 

Mars. 

God  of  war. 

Melanthius. 

A  Trojan,  slain  by  Eurypylus. 

Menelaiis. 

Son  of  Atreus.      Brother  of    Agamemnon. 

Husband  of  Helen. 

Minerva. 

Virgin  goddess.     Pallas  Athene\ 

Myrmidons. 

Thessalians.    Descended  from  Zeus  and  Eu- 

Mysia. 


rymedusa.     Led  by  Achilles  in  war. 
A  country  in  northwestern  Asia  Minor, 


LIST   OF   PROPER   NAMES. 


117 


Neptune. 

Nestor. 

Niobe\ 


God  of  the  sea. 
A  Grecian  sage  and  warrior. 
Daughter  of  Tantalus  and  Dione\ 
slain  by  Apollo  and  Artemis. 


Children 


Olympus. 
Opheltius. 

Pallas. 

Paris. 

Patroclus. 

Pelides. 

Percuos. 

Phoabe\ 

Phoebus. 

Phthia. 

Phylacus. 

Pidytes. 

Pirithoiis. 

Pluto. 

Polites. 

Polydamas. 

Polydore  (Polydorus) 

Polyphemus. 

Polypoetes. 

Praetus. 

Priam. 

Pylian  Sage. 


A  mountain  in  Thessaly. 
Twin  brother  of  Dresus. 


Seat  of  the  gods. 


Surname  of  Minerva  (Athene*). 

Second  son  of  Priam  and  Hecuba. 

Son  of  Mencetius  and  Sthenele\    Bosom  friend 

of  Achilles. 
Achilles.     Son  of  Peleus  and  Thetis. 
Imperial  bird  of  Jove. 
Surname  of  Artemis,  the  moon  goddess. 
Grandson  of  Phcebe\    Apollo,  god  of  the  sun. 
A  district  in  Thessaly. 
A  Trojan,  slain  by  Leitus. 
A  Trojan  warrior. 
Son  of  Ixion  (or  Zeus)  and  Dia.     King  of  the 

Lapithae  in  Thessaly. 
God  of  the  infernal  regions. 
One  of  the  sons  of  Priam. 
Trojan  hero.     A  friend  of  Hector. 
Son  of  Priam,  slain  by  Achilles. 
One  of  the  Lapithae. 
One  of  the  Lapithae. 
King  of  Argos. 

King  of  Troy.     Son  of  Laomedon  and  Placia. 
Nestor.     Son  of  Neleus  and  Chloris. 


Samos. 

Sarpedon. 

Saturnius. 

Scaean  Gate. 

Scamander. 

Scamandrius. 

Sidon. 

Sipylus. 

Sisyphus. 

Smintheus. 


Island,  Grecian  Archipelago.      Samothrace. 

Son  of  Zeus  and  Europa.     A  Trojan  ally. 

Son  of  Saturn.     Surname  of  Zeus. 

Left-hand  gate  of  Troy. 

River  in  Troas.     The  Xanthus. 

Astyanax. 

Sidon  and  Tyre.     Phoenician  cities. 

A  mountain  in  Lydia. 

King  of  Corinth. 

Phrygian  name  for  Apollo. 


118 


LIST    OF   PROPER    NAMES, 


Solymaeans. 
Stygian  Coast. 

Talthybius. 

Tenedos. 

Teucer. 

Theano. 

Theseus. 

Thetis. 

Troi'lus. 

Tydeus. 

Ulysses. 

Venus. 
Vulcan. 

Xanthus. 


A  people  of  Lycia. 

The  River  Styx  flows  around  the  nether  world. 

Herald  of  Achilles. 

Island  in  the  Grecian  Archipelago. 

Son  of  Telamon  and  Hesion£,  of  Crete. 

Wife  of  Antenor.     Priestess  of  Minerva. 

Legendary  hero  of  Attica.     Rescued  Ariadne\ 

Wife  of  Peleus.     Mother  of  Achilles. 

Son  of  Priam  and  Hecuba. 

King  of  Calydon.     Father  of  Diomed. 

Odysseus.     King  of  Ithaca. 

Aphrodite'.     Goddess  of  love. 
God  of  fire.     Hephaestus. 

A  river  of  Troas.     The  Scamander. 


For  further  particulars,  see  Smith's  ''Dictionary  of  Greek  and 
Roman  Biography  and  Mythology,"  and  "Harper's  Dictionary  of 
Classical  Literature  and  Antiquities  "  (1897). 


NOTES 


ON 


POPE'S  «  ILIAD."  —  BOOKS  I.,  VI.,  XXII.,  XXIV. 


Book  I.  Line  2.  "Heav'nly  goddess."  Calliope,  the  Muse  of 
Poetry. 

Line  3.  "Pluto's  gloomy  reign."  Those  who  died  by  a  violent 
death  were  not  supposed  to  die  by  Fate. 

Line  8.  "  The  will  of  Jove."  It  was  Jove  who  raised  the  war,  to 
rid  the  earth  (as  was  supposed)  of  its  multitudes  of  men  who  had 
no  regard  for  the  gods.  Notice  the  meter  of  this  line,  twelve  sylla- 
bles. 

Line  20.  "Scepter  and  laurel  crown."  The  scepter,  symbol  of 
sovereignty,  oratory  and  justice.  The  laurel  was  used  by  the  priest  of 
Apollo,  in  memory  of  Daphne. 

Line  52.     Homer's  phrase  is  "  far-darting  Apollo." 

Line  53.  "Smintheus."  From  the  Phrygian  mouse.  Apollo  put 
an  end  to  the  plague  of  mice,  which  gnawed  the  bowstrings  and  braces 
of  the  Teucri. 

Line  59.  "  God  of  the  silver  bow."  Symbol  of  beams  and  rays  of 
light. 

Line  89.  "So  heav'n  aton'd."  Original  meaning  of  atone,  to 
make  at-one  ;  to  propitiate,  reconcile. 

Line  91.  "  Calchas."  He  conducted  the  Grecian  fleet  to  Troy  by 
divination.  Three  kinds  of  divination  ;  consulting  the  entrails  of  beasts, 
dreams,  and  the  flight  of  birds.     Calchas,  as  augur,  used  the  last. 

Line  116.  "  King  of  kings."  Kings  were  under  special  protection 
of  Jove. 

"Jove's,  Saturn's  offspring,  chiefest  care 
Is  still  for  them  who  Princes  are." 

—  Callimachus*  Hymn. 
119 


120  NOTES.  [Book  I. 

Line  131.  "  Denouncing  mischief  still."  Calchas  foretold  at  Aulis, 
that  the  Trojan  war  would  last  ten  years,  and  that  Agamemnon  must 
sacrifice  his  daughter  Iphigenia. 

Line  135.  "  Phoebus'  oracles."  Apollo  was  the  author  of  prophetic 
inspirations. 

Line  148.  uAnd  suffer  rather  than  my  people  fall."  Perhaps 
Agamemnon  feared  that  the  armies  would  make  Achilles  chief,  in  his 
place,  if  he  dared  the  anger  of  the  gods  any  farther. 

Line  161.     The  lines  161  and  162  are  Pope's. 

Line  177.     "  Ajax'  prize."     Tecmessa :  Ulysses  had  Laodice\ 

Line  191.  "Fierce  Achilles."  Notice  that  when  Agamemnon 
threatens,  he  mentions  Achilles  first ;  when  he  speaks  of  honors, 
Achilles  is  last. 

Line  198.  1 1  Shall  form  an  ambush. ' '  This  kind  of  fighting  required 
the  very  bravest  warriors. 

Lines  217  and  218.  The  antithesis  was  a  favorite  form  with  Pope. 
There  is  no  such  form  in  Homer. 

Line  223.  "Left  by  Achilles  on  the  Trojan  plain."  Achilles  was 
under  Agamemnon,  as  a  voluntary  ally  only,  for  the  Trojan  war.  If 
he  chose,  he  might  retire. 

Line  239.  "Earth-born  Myrmidons."  The  reference  here  to  the 
"earth-born"  is  derogatory  to  Achilles'  followers,  who  were  fabled 
to  have  been  descended  from  Myrmex.  See  Art.  "Myrmex"  in 
Smith's  Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Biography  and  Mythology. 

Line  261.  "Minerva."  Unseen.  This  is  a  mythological  render- 
ing of  the  conflict  in  Achilles'  breast.  He  saw  at  last  that  he  would 
gain  nothing  by  hasty  action. 

Line  264.  "By  the  golden  hair."  The  Greeks  placed  the  seat  of 
memory  in  the  back  of  the  head. 

Line  266.     Homer  has  no  "sable  cloud." 

Line  298.     "  Thou  dog  in  forehead."     Ogilby  translates, 

"Thou  dog-eyed  drunkard,  hearted  like  a  deer." 

Dog  and  deer,  symbols  of  imprudence  and  timidity. 

Line  313.  "This  scepter."  He  swears  by  the  scepter,  as  an 
emblem  of  justice. 

Line  315.  "  Laws."  Homer  would  not  use  such  a  word  ;  customs, 
precedents,  decrees. 

Line  324.  "  The  bravest  Greek."  Achilles  knew  that  it  was  fated 
that  Troy  could  not  be  taken  without  his  presence,  in  addition  to  the 
Palladium  and  the  arrows  of  Philoctetes. 


Book  I.]  NOTES.  121 

Line  332.  Recall  the  story  of  the  bees  which  settled  on  Plato's  lips 
at  Hymettus. 

Line  345.  "  A  godlike  race  of  heroes  once  I  knew."  Ihe  Lapithse, 
Argonauts,  Centaurs.     Look  them  up  in  a  Classical  Dictionary. 

Line  350.     "  Polyphemus."     Not  the  Cyclops  of  the  "  Odyssey." 

Line  379.  "  No  laws  can  limit,  no  respect  control."  This  is 
one  side  only  of  Achilles'  character,  violent,  irascible,  intracta- 
ble. The  other  side,  affectionate,  faithful  to  friendship,  and  capable 
of  pity  and  magnanimity,  will  appear  later. 

Line  393.  "Yet  tamely  see  resuin'd."  The  princes  of  Greece 
tamely  allowed  Achilles  to  be  defrauded  of  his  prize ;  therefore  he 
was  angry  with  them  also. 

Line  402.  "Achilles  with  Patroclus."  Brought  up  together  in 
Phthia,  and  bosom  friends. 

Line  408.  "The  hecatomb."  Literally,  a  hundred  oxen;  a  large 
sacrifice. 

Line  412.  "  Wash'd  by  the  briny  wave."  Salt  was  always  used  in 
lustrations. 

Line  420.  "Two  sacred  heralds."  Held  inviolable.  Achilles  re- 
spects their  office.     See  line  426,  "  unwilling." 

Line  430.     "  At  awful  distance."     Restrained  by  awe. 

Line  432.     "  Decent  confusion."     Becoming  hesitation. 

Line  457.  "  From  whence  his  mother  sprung."  Thetis  was  one  of 
the  sea-deities,  courted  by  Neptune  and  Jupiter. 

Line  460.  "  Since  in  early  bloom."  Thetis  was  told  that  Achilles 
should  either  become  famous  and  die  early,  or  live  obscure  to  an  old 
age.     Achilles  always  acts  with  this  doom  before  his  mind. 

Line  508.  "  Defrauds  the  votes."  The  prizes  of  war  were  allotted 
by  vote  of  the  chiefs. 

Line  514.  "  Triumph' d  in  the  glorious  boast."  The  chief  gods  con- 
spired against  Jove.  Thetis  heard  of  the  conspiracy  from  her  father 
Nereus,  a  prophet,  and  she  brought  on  the  sea-deity  iEgseon,  who 
rescued  Jove. 

Achilles  made  the  most  of  Thetis'  power  over  Jove,  and  the  defeats 
suffered  by  the  Greeks  are  the  result  of  her  intercession. 

Line  543.  "To  fates  averse."  Schlegel  says  this  power  of  fate 
extends  into  the  realm  of  the  gods,  Jove  being,  possibly,  the  only 
one  exempt. 

Line  557.  "  The  feasts  of  ^Ethiopia's  blameless  race."  The  wor- 
ship of  Jupiter  Ammon.  Heeren  thinks  this  procession  of  the  sacred 
ship  is  sculptured  on  the  temple  of  Karnak. 


122  NOTES.  [Book  VI. 

Line  601.  "  And  with  their  heads  to  heaven. "  If  in  honor  of  celes- 
tial deities,  the  heads  of  victims  were  bent  upward ;  if  of  the  lower 
gods,  downwards. 

Line  616.  "Goblets  crown'd."  Filled  to  the  brim.  Crowning 
with  garlands  not  then  the  custom. 

Line  671.  "  Who  rolls  the  thunder."  Homer's  epithet  for  Jupiter 
is  "  cloud-compelling  Jove. " 

Line  683.  "He  spoke;  and  awful  bends  his  sable  brows."  It  is 
said  that  Phidias  fashioned  his  immense  head  of  Jupiter  Olympus 
under  the  inspiration  of  these  lines  of  Homer. 

Line  698.  "Say,  artful  manager  of  heaven."  One  of  Pope's 
poorest  sentences.     Rather  "crafty  arbiter." 

Line  713.  "  Roll'd  the  large  orbs."  Homer  uses  "ox-eyed"  to 
denote  the  full  and  soft  eyes  of  Juno.  The  Greeks  especially  liked 
full,  round,  liquid  eyes. 

Line  731.     "  What  is,  that  ought  to  be."     This  is  Pope's. 

Line  735.  This  altercation  between  Jupiter  and  Juno  reveals  the 
sympathy  of  Juno  with  the  Greeks,  and  of  Vulcan  with  Juno.  Bear 
this  in  mind  as  the  story  proceeds. 

Line  741.     "  The  architect  divine."     See  line  779. 

Line  753.     "  The  double  bowl."     For  drinking  out  of  both  sides. 

Line  761.  "  Hurl' d  headlong  downward."  Compare  "Paradise 
Lost,"  I.  45.     Also  in  explanation  of  the  event,  "Iliad,"  Book  XV. 

Line  770.     "Vulcan  with  awkward  grace."     The  god  was  lame. 

Book  VI.  Line  7.  "  Great  Ajax  first. "  A jax  Telemon  is  made  to 
boast  of  not  needing  help  of  the  gods  in  battle. 

Line  9.     "  Acamas."     Mars  took  the  form  of  Acamas. 

Line  24.     "  His  faithful  servant."     Axylus'  charioteer. 

Line  27.     "  Two  twins."     "  Two  "  ;  an  unusual  slip  for  the  poet. 

Line  46.     "  Beneath  the  Spartan  spear."     Of  Menelaus. 

Line  56.  "The  victor's  knees."  Supposed  by  the  ancients  to  be 
the  seat  of  pity. 

•     Line  61.     "Rich  heaps  of  brass."     Not  known  in  Homeric  times. 
Bronze  and  hardened  copper. 

Line  66.  "  Stern  Agamemnon  swift  to  vengeance  flies."  No  quar- 
ter was  given  in  battle  except  with  a  view  to  the  ransom  of  a  prisoner. 
Agamemnon's  action  here  must  be  judged  by  his  times. 

Line  83.  "Old  Nestor  saw."  Nestor,  elderly  and  wise,  assented 
to  Agamemnon's  act,  thus  proving  that  the  epoch  was  one  of  relent- 
less cruelty  towards  enemies. 


Book  VI.]  NOTES.  123 

Line  91.  "  Had  not  sage  Helenus  her  state  redress'd."  Helenus, 
Hector's  brother.  First,  by  showing  how  the  tide  of  battle  might  be 
turned  against  the  Grecians,  and  then  by  offerings  to  Minerva. 

Line  147.     "  Godlike  Hector."     Homer  used  another  epithet. 

Line  149.  "Between  both  armies."  This  episode  of  Diomed  and 
Glaucus  is  introduced  with  great  art  by  Homer  to  gain  time  for  Hector 
to  go  and  return  before  the  battle  is  renewed.  The  incident  gives  a 
new  feature  of  ancient  friendship. 

Line  161.  "Not  long  Lycurgus  view'd  the  golden  light."  For  the 
story  of  Lycurgus  and  his  fate,  see  article  on  Lycurgus,  in  Classical 
Dictionary. 

Line  165.     u  Their  consecrated  spears."     The  thyrsus  ;  wands. 

Lines  167  and  168  ;  also  lines  173  and  174,  false  rhymes. 

Line  191.     "iEolian  Sisyphus."     For  the  story,  see  Smith's  Diet. 

Line  210.  "With  tablets  sealed."  Having  on  them  characters, 
not  letters.     Writing  not  then  invented. 

Line  215.  "Bright  morning  orient."  Homer's  usual  phrase  is 
"rosy-fingered  Aurora." 

Line  242.  "Two  brave  sons."  Isandros  and  Hippolochos.  "And 
one  fair  daughter."     Laodamia. 

Lines  279-281  make  a  "triplet."  Notice  the  pronunciation  of 
"join,"  line  279. 

Line  294.  "He  gave  his  own."  This  unequal  exchange  of  arms 
between  Diomed  and  Glaucus  has  become  proverbial  to  denote  a  bad 
bargain. 

Line  298.     "Beech-tree."     Oak. 

Line  322.     "  Bacchus."     Homer  does  not  refer  to  this  god. 

Line  331.     Pope's  views.     The  ancients  praised  the  vine. 

Line  357.  "  Each  noble  matron  and  illustrious  dame."  In  Homer's 
day,  matrons  could  officiate  as  priestesses  after  the  virgins. 

Line  361.  "  Sidonian  maids."  When  Paris  carried  off  Helen,  he 
stopped  at  Sidon  and  made  captives,  with  other  booty. 

Line  387.  "But  they  vow'd  in  vain."  Why  in  vain?  See 
Pope's  "Iliad,"  Book  VIII.  39-46,  570,  571,  and  Book  XXII.  35. 

Line  389.  "Hector  to  Paris'  lofty  dome  repairs."  Compare 
Paris  and  Hector.     See  lines  399-403,  et  al. 

Lines  404  and  405.     What  is  the  conspicuous  fault  in  these  lines  ? 

Line  427.  " 'Tis  man's  to  fight."  Pope's  epigrammatical  style 
again. 

Line  431.  "  Helen."  Study  her  character.  Coleridge  says,  "  She 
is  a  genuine  lady,  noble  in  her  associations,  full  of  remorse  for  which 


124  NOTES.  [Book  XXII. 

higher  powers  seem  responsible,  yet  grateful  and  affectionate  towards 
those  with  whom  that  fault  had  committed  her." 

Mr.  Gladstone  remarks,  "With  'beauty  such  as  never  woman 
wore,'  "  but  "  with  infirmity  of  purpose,  she  unites  grace  and  kindli- 
ness, and  a  peculiar  self-condemnation." 

Line  532.  * '  Bade  their  elms  bestow  a  barren  shade. ' '  The  ancients 
planted  only  barren  trees  about  sepulchers,  emblematic  of  the  unfruit- 
fulness  of  the  dead. 

Line  543.  "  She  fell  a  victim  to  Diana's  bow."  What  was  the 
name  of  Andromache's  mother  ? 

Line  551.  "  Where  yon  wild  fig  trees."  Landmarks.  Note  this 
detail,  giving  the  story  the  look  of  reality  and  probability,  as  if  told 
by  an  eye-witness.    . 

Lines  570-573.  Prophecy  showing  the  belief  in  fatalism  so  common 
at  that  time. 

Line  603.     "Preferr'd."     Proffered. 

Book  XXII.  Line  1.  See  "Introduction,"  for  the  progress  of 
the  story  between  Book  VI.  and  Book  XXII. 

Line  6.  "  Beneath  one  roof  of  well-compacted  shields."  Compare 
the  Eoman  "  tortoise,"  so  called,  of  shields  held  together  on  the  heads 
to  ward  off  missiles  in  scaling  walls. 

Line  13.  "  Apollo  now."  For  the  significance  of  this  address  of 
Apollo  to  Achilles,  see  Book  XXI.  699-724. 

Lines  21  and  22.     Another  false  rhyme. 

Line  45.     "  Obtests."     Beseeches. 

Line  49.     "  The  sad  father."    Priam,  too  aged  and  feeble  to  help  him. 

Lines  104  and  105.     Nothing  in  Homer  like  this. 

Line  130.  "  So,  roll'd  up  in  his  den."  This  is  one  of  Pope's  elabo- 
rations.    Compare  with  the  original. 

Line  137.  "  He  stood  and  question'd  thus  his  mighty  mind." 
Compare  "Paradise  Lost,"  VI.  113. 

Line  139.  "Honor  and  shame."  Study  the  character  of  Hector, 
the  noblest  and  bravest  of  the  Trojans. 

Line  140.     "  Polydamas. ' '     See  Book  XVIII. 

Line  158.     "The  wife  withheld."     Helen,  wife  of  Menelaiis. 

Line  173.     "  Thus  pond' ring."     Hector,  not  Achilles,  "  the  Greek." 

Line  180.  "  He  fears,  recedes,  and  flies."  Hector,  superior  to  men 
in  arms,  is  no  match  for  the  gods,  or  for  Achilles  assisted  by  a  god. 
His  fear  and  flight  are  the  effect  of  supernatural  forces  upon  him. 
His  courage  is  not  impugned  by  this  action. 


Book  XXII.]  NOTES.  125 

Line  216.  "The  rais'd  spectator."  Pope's  line  ;  "  raised "  in  the 
sense,  perhaps,  of  elevated  by  excitement. 

Line  218.  "The  gazing  gods."  It  is  for  their  honor  that  Achilles 
now  pursues  Hector. 

Line  220.  "  The  sire  of  mortals  and  immortals  spoke."  This  con- 
versation between  Jove  and  Minerva  reveals  the  ancient  belief  in  Fate, 
with  a  possible  power  in  Jove  to  snatch  from  preordained  death,  if  he 
will.  The  gods  are  the  real  actors  in  this  conflict  between  Hector  and 
Achilles.  Apollo  is  on  the  side  of  Hector ;  Minerva  for  Achilles. 
Hector  fled,  but  Minerva  deceitfully  induced  him  to  make  a  stand  and 
fight.     For  the  result,  see  lines  263-276  ;  also  line  283. 

Line  238.  "No  gods  indignant  blame  their  partial  Jove."  Jove  is 
never  called  "partial"  by  Homer.  Jove  simply  allows  the  Fates  to 
have  their  way. 

Line  247.     "  Tainted  dews."     Holding  the  scent. 

Line  279.  "  This  day  our  labors  cease."  With  the  death  of  Hector 
Troy's  doom  is  sealed. 

Line  295.  "  Too  long,  0  Hector !  have  I  borne  the  sight."  Minerva, 
in  the  form  of  Dei'phobus,  making  this  deceptive,  decoying  speech, 
gives  us  a  poor  opinion  of  Homer's  deities.  The  Grecian  mythology 
teems  (or  reeks)  with  such  evil  characteristics  of  the  gods. 

Line  329.  "  No  vile  dishonor  shall  thy  corse  pursue."  Compare 
Hector's  noble  vow  with  Achilles'  angry  retort  (line  433).,  and  his 
abuse  of  Hector's  body  after  he  had  slain  him.  This  rage  he  after- 
wards atoned  for  in  part,  by  giving  the  body  to  Priam. 

Line  353.  "Minerva  .  .  .  drew,  and  gave  to  great  Achilles'  hand." 
Also  line  370.  Utterly  unequal  and  unfair  fight.  What  the  gods  will, 
just  or  unjust,  is  Fate. 

Line  385.     "  Then  welcome  fate."    Hector  died  as  nobly  as  he  lived. 

Line  392 .     "  Truss. "     Hold  fast. 

Line  395.     "  Fourfold  cone."     Helmet  with  four  rows  of  plates. 

Line  415.  "  At  last  is  Hector  stretch' d  upon  the  plain."  Achilles 
adds  insult  to  injury,  as  he  gloats  over  his  fallen  foe. 

Line  429.  "The  common  rites  of  sepulture  bestow."  If  the  body 
was  not  buried,  the  spirit  must  wander  by  the  Styx  ages  on  ages.  (See 
line  458.) 

Line  432.  Homer  never  mentions  any  Greek  who  was  taken  captive 
alive,  or  who  sued  for  mercy.  Many  Trojans,  however,  were  so  taken, 
or  sued  for  life  or  for  honorable  burial. 

Line  437.  "Could  I  myself  the  bloody  banquet  join."  "I  would 
devour  thee  if  I  could,  but  I  cannot." 


126  NOTES.  [Book  XXIV. 

Line  452.  "And  stretch  thee  here,  before  this  Scsean  gate." 
Achilles  met  a  like  fate.     See  Art.  "  Achilles,"  Smith's  Dictionary. 

Line  495.  "  A  thought  of  vengeance  bred. "  Nothing  but  Achilles1 
grief  and  exasperation  at  Hector's  slaying  of  Patroclus,  and  his  threat 
to  impale  his  head,  could  have  made  him  so  vindictive.  This  must  be 
remembered  in  extenuation  of  the  deed. 

Line  547.  "  Mix'd  the  tender  shower."  An  artificial  expression 
for  a  simple  idea. 

Line  548.  "  Some  comfort  that  had  been."  One  would  suppose 
Priam  would  have  shown  some  exultant  pride  over  his  son's  heroic 
resistance  and  noble  death  in  battle.  The  old  man's  abject  grief 
shows  the  straits  to  which  the  Trojans  were  driven  by  the  loss  of 
Hector. 

Line  602.  "The  veil  and  diadem."  Homer  says  nothing  about 
this  sort  of  headgear. 

Line  610.  "One  star,  its  baneful  beam."  Homer  had  no  astro- 
logical ideas.  Pope  here  follows  Dry  den's  passion  for  astrology.  (See 
"Palamon  and  Arcite." 

Line  620.  "An  only  child."  The  moans  of  Andromache  and  her 
wailing  over  Astyanax  are  hardly  worthy  of  Homer.  They  form  a 
poor  ending  of  this  book. 

Book  XXIV.  Line  30.  "For  Phoebus  watch' d  it  with  superior 
care."  Give  the  reasons  why  the  gods  and  goddesses  took  sides  with 
Greeks  or  Trojans. 

Line  34.  "Hermes."  From  infancy  he  was  a  great  thief.  He 
stole  Apollo's  oxen,  and  became  the  patron  of  thieves. 

Line  39.  "  What  time  young  Paris."  Read  Tennyson's  "  CEnone," 
for  the  story  of  Paris  on  Mt.  Ida. 

Line  90.  "  The  only  honors  men  to  gods  can  pay."  It  was  a  very 
barbarous  age,  though  called  heroic,  when  the  people  accepted  such 
puerile  contests  and  conversations  on  Mt.  Olympus,  and  believed  in 
the  power  of  hecatombs  to  appease  the  divine  wrath.  The  "  Odyssey  " 
marks  a  somewhat  higher  standard  in  mythology,  and  the  Attic  mind 
raised  it  still  more,  only,  however,  to  result  in  utter  scepticism  as  to 
the  entire  system. 

Line  108.  "From  the  bent  angle."  From  the  ox-horn,  possibly, 
through  which  the  fisher's  line  passed.     A  doubtful  simile. 

Line  112.     "  The  blue-hair' d  sisters."     Nereids.     Water  nymphs. 

Line  266.  Compare  Hecuba's  courageous  words  with  Priam's  de- 
spair.    This  agrees  with  her  after  life. 


Book  XXIV.]  NOTES.  127 

Line  272.  "  Nor  augur,  priest,  nor  seer."  Each  has  a  different 
function  ;  what  had  each  ? 

Line  285.     "  Chargers."     Platters.     Compare  Matt,  xiv  :  8. 

Line  310.  "The  sorrowing  friends  his  frantic  rage  obey."  (Also 
line  311.)  Priam's  conduct,  for  a  Trojan  hero,  reminds  us  of  Jacob's 
cry  when  Benjamin  was  taken,  and  of  David's  lament  over  Absalom. 

Line  313.  uDei'phobus."  One  story  is  that  this  son  proved  him- 
self superior  in  a  contest  with  his  brothers,  and  carried  off  Helen  as 
his  prize. 

Line  322.  "Troilus."  See  Chaucer's  story  of  "  Troilus  and  Cres- 
sida."     Also  dramas  of  Dry  den  and  Shakespeare. 

Line  333.     "  The  cabinet."     The  main  body  of  the  chariot. 

Line  363.     "  Let  the  strong  sov'reign  of  the  plumy  race."     Ogilby 

translates, 

4 'And  beg  of  Jove, 

To  send  his  eagle,  who  so  swiftly  flies, 

A  dextrous  omen." 

(See  line  388.) 

Line  397.  "  Swift  on  his  car  the  impatient  monarch  sprung."  For 
a  feeble  old  man,  this  action  reveals  his  mental  excitement  rather  than 
the  alacrity  of  his  body.  Compare  line  403.  "  On  his  slow  wheels." 
The  original  Greek  suggests  haste. 

Line  417.  "The  god  obeys."  Compare  Dryden's  translation  of 
Virgil's  "^Eneid,"  IV.  350. 

Line  431.  "Ilus1  ancient  marble."  The  grandfather  of  Priam 
was  Ilus.     Hence  Ilium,  Troy. 

Line  458.  "  The  living  image  of  my  father  shines."  Hermes'  father 
was  Jupiter.  Priam's  father  was  Laomedon.  This  remark  of  Hermes 
is  not  so  strong  in  the  original,  and  merely  means  that  Hermes  will  be 
as  a  son  to  Priam  in  his  need. 

Line  487.  "  Polyctor  is  my  sire."  Hermes  takes  a  feigned  name 
to  conceal  his  divinity. 

Line  502.     How  pronounce  "  mediates  "  in  scanning  this  line  ? 

Line  541.  u  He  said,  then  took  the  chariot  at  a  bound."  The  pas- 
sages following  are  in  Pope's  best  manner. 

Line  598.  Coleridge  says  of  the  scene  which  follows  :  "  The  whole 
scene  between  Achilles  and  Priam  ...  is  at  once  the  most  pro- 
foundly skillful  and  yet  the  simplest  and  most  affecting  passage  in 
the  'Iliad.'  Observe  the  exquisite  tact  of  Priam  in  occupying  the 
mind  of  Achilles,  from  the  outset,  with  the  image  of  his  father ;  in 
gradually  introducing  the  parallel  of  his  own  situation ;   and  lastly, 


128  NOTES.  [Book  XXIV. 

mentioning  Hector's  name  when  he  perceives  that  the  hero  is  soft- 
ened, and  then  only  in  such  a  manner  as  to  flatter  the  pride  of  the 
conqueror." 

Line  681.  "  See  him  in  Troy  the  pious  care  decline."  What  is 
meant  in  this  confused  couplet  is,  "See  him  (Achilles)  in  Troy,  de- 
cline the  pious  care  of  his  father  Peleus  (at  home),  to  be  the  cause 
of  sorrow  to  Priam." 

Line  739.  uHe  groans,  and  calls  on  lov'd  Patroclus'  shade." 
Patroclus  was  supposed  to  harbor  revenge  against  his  slayer,  Hector, 
even  in  the  shades  below.  Although  Hector  was  himself  slain,  he 
must  still  feel  the  vengeance  of  his  victim,  and  if  Achilles  gives  back 
the  body  for  burial  rites,  for  so  doing  he  must  ask  pardon  from  Patro- 
clus' shade. 

Line  773.  "Herself  a  rock."  The  fable  is  that  Niobe,  after  the 
death  of  her  children,  went  to  Mount  Sipylus,  and  was  metamor- 
phosed into  a  rock,  which  was  supposed  to  have  the  appearance  of 
a  human  form. 

Line  795.  "And  each,  indulging,  shar'd  in  sweet  repast."  Does 
this  line  rhyme  with  line  796  ? 

Line  805.     "  Careful  temples."     Anxious,  troubled. 

Line  929.  "And  hurl  thee  headlong  from  the  tow'rs  of  Troy." 
When  Troy  was  taken,  Astyanax  was  thrown  from  the  walls  and 
killed  by  Ulysses. 

Line  964.  "Now  twice  ten  years."  Homer  has  somehow  mis- 
taken the  number.     Pope  does  not  correct  the  error. 

Line  1016.  "And  peaceful  slept  the  mighty  Hector's  shade." 
Homer's  last  line  is  more  homely.  "Thus  held  they  obsequies  for 
Hector,  the  tamer  of  horses." 

With  regard  to  the  mythology  of  Homer,  Max  Miiller,  in  his 
"Science  of  Language"  (Second  Series,  Appendix  to  Lecture  VIII.), 
tells  us  that  the  philosophers  of  Greece  were  shocked  by  these  religious 
fables  from  the  earliest  times.  Xenophanes,  who  lived  before  Pythago- 
ras, accuses  Homer  and  Hesiod  of  having  ascribed  to  the  gods  every- 
thing that  is  disgraceful  among  men.  Heraclitus  seems  to  have  looked 
upon  the  Homeric  system  of  theology  as  flippant  infidelity.  Anaxago- 
ras,  who  died  428  b.c,  is  said  to  have  explained  the  whole  of  the 
Homeric  mythology  allegorically.  Zeus  was  mind  ;  Athene,  art ;  and 
so  on.  The  student  may  read  profitably,  for  further  information, 
Lecture  X.  of  the  same  work  by  Miiller. 


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