Besides, full twenty nymphs of Trojan race With copious love shall crown thy warm embrace; Such as thyself shall chose; who yield to none, Or yield to Helen's heavenly charms alone.

Yet hear me further: when our wars are o'er, If safe we land on Argos' fruitful sh.o.r.e, There shalt thou live his son, his honour share, And with Orestes' self divide his care.

Yet more--three daughters in his court are bred, And each well worthy of a royal bed: Laodice and Iphigenia fair, And bright Chrysothemis with golden hair: Her shalt thou wed whom most thy eyes approve; He asks no presents, no reward for love: Himself will give the dower; so vast a store As never father gave a child before.

Seven ample cities shall confess thy sway, The Enope and Pherae thee obey, Cardamyle with ample turrets crown'd, And sacred Pedasus, for vines renown'd: aepea fair, the pastures Hira yields, And rich Antheia with her flowery fields; The whole extent to Pylos' sandy plain, Along the verdant margin of the main.

There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil; Bold are the men, and generous is the soil.

There shalt thou reign, with power and justice crown'd, And rule the tributary realms around.

Such are the proffers which this day we bring, Such the repentance of a suppliant king.

But if all this, relentless, thou disdain, If honour and if interest plead in vain, Yet some redress to suppliant Greece afford, And be, amongst her guardian G.o.ds, adored.

If no regard thy suffering country claim, Hear thy own glory, and the voice of fame: For now that chief, whose unresisted ire Made nations tremble, and whole hosts retire, Proud Hector, now, the unequal fight demands, And only triumphs to deserve thy hands."

Then thus the G.o.ddess-born: "Ulysses, hear A faithful speech, that knows nor art nor fear; What in my secret soul is understood, My tongue shall utter, and my deeds make good.

Let Greece then know, my purpose I retain: Nor with new treaties vex my peace in vain.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell, My heart detests him as the gates of h.e.l.l.

"Then thus in short my fix'd resolves attend, Which nor Atrides nor his Greeks can bend; Long toils, long perils in their cause I bore, But now the unfruitful glories charm no more.

Fight or not fight, a like reward we claim, The wretch and hero find their prize the same.

Alike regretted in the dust he lies, Who yields ign.o.bly, or who bravely dies.

Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains, A life of labours, lo! what fruit remains?

As the bold bird her helpless young attends, From danger guards them, and from want defends; In search of prey she wings the s.p.a.cious air, And with the untasted food supplies her care: For thankless Greece such hardships have I braved, Her wives, her infants, by my labours saved; Long sleepless nights in heavy arms I stood, And sweat laborious days in dust and blood.

I sack'd twelve ample cities on the main,(207) And twelve lay smoking on the Trojan plain: Then at Atrides' haughty feet were laid The wealth I gathered, and the spoils I made.

Your mighty monarch these in peace possess'd; Some few my soldiers had, himself the rest.

Some present, too, to every prince was paid; And every prince enjoys the gift he made: I only must refund, of all his train; See what pre-eminence our merits gain!

My spoil alone his greedy soul delights: My spouse alone must bless his l.u.s.tful nights: The woman, let him (as he may) enjoy; But what's the quarrel, then, of Greece to Troy?

What to these sh.o.r.es the a.s.sembled nations draws, What calls for vengeance but a woman's cause?

Are fair endowments and a beauteous face Beloved by none but those of Atreus' race?

The wife whom choice and pa.s.sion doth approve, Sure every wise and worthy man will love.

Nor did my fair one less distinction claim; Slave as she was, my soul adored the dame.

Wrong'd in my love, all proffers I disdain; Deceived for once, I trust not kings again.

Ye have my answer--what remains to do, Your king, Ulysses, may consult with you.

What needs he the defence this arm can make?

Has he not walls no human force can shake?

Has he not fenced his guarded navy round With piles, with ramparts, and a trench profound?

And will not these (the wonders he has done) Repel the rage of Priam's single son?

There was a time ('twas when for Greece I fought) When Hector's prowess no such wonders wrought; He kept the verge of Troy, nor dared to wait Achilles' fury at the Scaean gate; He tried it once, and scarce was saved by fate.

But now those ancient enmities are o'er; To-morrow we the favouring G.o.ds implore; Then shall you see our parting vessels crown'd, And hear with oars the h.e.l.lespont resound.

The third day hence shall Pthia greet our sails,(208) If mighty Neptune send propitious gales; Pthia to her Achilles shall restore The wealth he left for this detested sh.o.r.e: Thither the spoils of this long war shall pa.s.s, The ruddy gold, the steel, and shining bra.s.s: My beauteous captives thither I'll convey, And all that rests of my unravish'd prey.

One only valued gift your tyrant gave, And that resumed--the fair Lyrnessian slave.

Then tell him: loud, that all the Greeks may hear, And learn to scorn the wretch they basely fear; (For arm'd in impudence, mankind he braves, And meditates new cheats on all his slaves; Though shameless as he is, to face these eyes Is what he dares not: if he dares he dies;) Tell him, all terms, all commerce I decline, Nor share his council, nor his battle join; For once deceiv'd, was his; but twice were mine, No--let the stupid prince, whom Jove deprives Of sense and justice, run where frenzy drives; His gifts are hateful: kings of such a kind Stand but as slaves before a n.o.ble mind, Not though he proffer'd all himself possess'd, And all his rapine could from others wrest: Not all the golden tides of wealth that crown The many-peopled Orchomenian town;(209) Not all proud Thebes' unrivall'd walls contain, The world's great empress on the Egyptian plain (That spreads her conquests o'er a thousand states, And pours her heroes through a hundred gates, Two hundred hors.e.m.e.n and two hundred cars From each wide portal issuing to the wars);(210) Though bribes were heap'd on bribes, in number more Than dust in fields, or sands along the sh.o.r.e; Should all these offers for my friendship call, 'Tis he that offers, and I scorn them all.

Atrides' daughter never shall be led (An ill-match'd consort) to Achilles' bed; Like golden Venus though she charm'd the heart, And vied with Pallas in the works of art; Some greater Greek let those high nuptials grace, I hate alliance with a tyrant's race.

If heaven restore me to my realms with life, The reverend Peleus shall elect my wife; Thessalian nymphs there are of form divine, And kings that sue to mix their blood with mine.

Bless'd in kind love, my years shall glide away, Content with just hereditary sway; There, deaf for ever to the martial strife, Enjoy the dear prerogative of life.

Life is not to be bought with heaps of gold.

Not all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold, Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway, Can bribe the poor possession of a day!

Lost herds and treasures we by arms regain, And steeds unrivall'd on the dusty plain: But from our lips the vital spirit fled, Returns no more to wake the silent dead.

My fates long since by Thetis were disclosed, And each alternate, life or fame, proposed; Here, if I stay, before the Trojan town, Short is my date, but deathless my renown: If I return, I quit immortal praise For years on years, and long-extended days.

Convinced, though late, I find my fond mistake, And warn the Greeks the wiser choice to make; To quit these sh.o.r.es, their native seats enjoy, Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy.

Jove's arm display'd a.s.serts her from the skies!

Her hearts are strengthen'd, and her glories rise.

Go then to Greece, report our fix'd design; Bid all your counsels, all your armies join, Let all your forces, all your arts conspire, To save the ships, the troops, the chiefs, from fire.

One stratagem has fail'd, and others will: Ye find, Achilles is unconquer'd still.

Go then--digest my message as ye may-- But here this night let reverend Phoenix stay: His tedious toils and h.o.a.ry hairs demand A peaceful death in Pthia's friendly land.

But whether he remain or sail with me, His age be sacred, and his will be free."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GREEK GALLEY.]

GREEK GALLEY.

The son of Peleus ceased: the chiefs around In silence wrapt, in consternation drown'd, Attend the stern reply. Then Phoenix rose; (Down his white beard a stream of sorrow flows;) And while the fate of suffering Greece he mourn'd, With accent weak these tender words return'd.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PROSERPINE.]

PROSERPINE.

"Divine Achilles! wilt thou then retire, And leave our hosts in blood, our fleets on fire?

If wrath so dreadful fill thy ruthless mind, How shall thy friend, thy Phoenix, stay behind?

The royal Peleus, when from Pthia's coast He sent thee early to the Achaian host; Thy youth as then in sage debates unskill'd, And new to perils of the direful field: He bade me teach thee all the ways of war, To shine in councils, and in camps to dare.

Never, ah, never let me leave thy side!

No time shall part us, and no fate divide, Not though the G.o.d, that breathed my life, restore The bloom I boasted, and the port I bore, When Greece of old beheld my youthful flames (Delightful Greece, the land of lovely dames), My father faithless to my mother's arms, Old as he was, adored a stranger's charms.

I tried what youth could do (at her desire) To win the damsel, and prevent my sire.

My sire with curses loads my hated head, And cries, 'Ye furies! barren be his bed.'

Infernal Jove, the vengeful fiends below, And ruthless Proserpine, confirm'd his vow.

Despair and grief distract my labouring mind!

G.o.ds! what a crime my impious heart design'd!

I thought (but some kind G.o.d that thought suppress'd) To plunge the poniard in my father's breast; Then meditate my flight: my friends in vain With prayers entreat me, and with force detain.

On fat of rams, black bulls, and brawny swine, They daily feast, with draughts of fragrant wine; Strong guards they placed, and watch'd nine nights entire; The roofs and porches flamed with constant fire.

The tenth, I forced the gates, unseen of all: And, favour'd by the night, o'erleap'd the wall, My travels thence through s.p.a.cious Greece extend; In Phthia's court at last my labours end.

Your sire received me, as his son caress'd, With gifts enrich'd, and with possessions bless'd.

The strong Dolopians thenceforth own'd my reign, And all the coast that runs along the main.

By love to thee his bounties I repaid, And early wisdom to thy soul convey'd: Great as thou art, my lessons made thee brave: A child I took thee, but a hero gave.

Thy infant breast a like affection show'd; Still in my arms (an ever-pleasing load) Or at my knee, by Phoenix wouldst thou stand; No food was grateful but from Phoenix' hand.(211) I pa.s.s my watchings o'er thy helpless years, The tender labours, the compliant cares, The G.o.ds (I thought) reversed their hard decree, And Phoenix felt a father's joys in thee: Thy growing virtues justified my cares, And promised comfort to my silver hairs.

Now be thy rage, thy fatal rage, resign'd; A cruel heart ill suits a manly mind: The G.o.ds (the only great, and only wise) Are moved by offerings, vows, and sacrifice; Offending man their high compa.s.sion wins, And daily prayers atone for daily sins.

Prayers are Jove's daughters, of celestial race, Lame are their feet, and wrinkled is their face; With humble mien, and with dejected eyes, Constant they follow, where injustice flies.

Injustice swift, erect, and unconfined, Sweeps the wide earth, and tramples o'er mankind, While Prayers, to heal her wrongs, move slow behind.

Who hears these daughters of almighty Jove, For him they mediate to the throne above When man rejects the humble suit they make, The sire revenges for the daughters' sake; From Jove commission'd, fierce injustice then Descends to punish unrelenting men.

O let not headlong pa.s.sion bear the sway These reconciling G.o.ddesses obey Due honours to the seed of Jove belong, Due honours calm the fierce, and bend the strong.

Were these not paid thee by the terms we bring, Were rage still harbour'd in the haughty king; Nor Greece nor all her fortunes should engage Thy friend to plead against so just a rage.

But since what honour asks the general sends, And sends by those whom most thy heart commends; The best and n.o.blest of the Grecian train; Permit not these to sue, and sue in vain!

Let me (my son) an ancient fact unfold, A great example drawn from times of old; Hear what our fathers were, and what their praise, Who conquer'd their revenge in former days.

"Where Calydon on rocky mountains stands(212) Once fought the aetolian and Curetian bands; To guard it those; to conquer, these advance; And mutual deaths were dealt with mutual chance.

The silver Cynthia bade contention rise, In vengeance of neglected sacrifice; On OEneus fields she sent a monstrous boar, That levell'd harvests, and whole forests tore: This beast (when many a chief his tusks had slain) Great Meleager stretch'd along the plain, Then, for his spoils, a new debate arose, The neighbour nations thence commencing foes.

Strong as they were, the bold Curetes fail'd, While Meleager's thundering arm prevail'd: Till rage at length inflamed his lofty breast (For rage invades the wisest and the best).

"Cursed by Althaea, to his wrath he yields, And in his wife's embrace forgets the fields.

(She from Marpessa sprung, divinely fair, And matchless Idas, more than man in war: The G.o.d of day adored the mother's charms; Against the G.o.d the father bent his arms: The afflicted pair, their sorrows to proclaim, From Cleopatra changed their daughter's name, And call'd Alcyone; a name to show The father's grief, the mourning mother's woe.) To her the chief retired from stern debate, But found no peace from fierce Althaea's hate: Althaea's hate the unhappy warrior drew, Whose luckless hand his royal uncle slew; She beat the ground, and call'd the powers beneath On her own son to wreak her brother's death; h.e.l.l heard her curses from the realms profound, And the red fiends that walk the nightly round.

In vain aetolia her deliverer waits, War shakes her walls, and thunders at her gates.

She sent amba.s.sadors, a chosen band, Priests of the G.o.ds, and elders of the land; Besought the chief to save the sinking state: Their prayers were urgent, and their proffers great: (Full fifty acres of the richest ground, Half pasture green, and half with vineyards crown'd:) His suppliant father, aged OEneus, came; His sisters follow'd; even the vengeful dame, Althaea, sues; his friends before him fall: He stands relentless, and rejects them all.

Meanwhile the victor's shouts ascend the skies; The walls are scaled; the rolling flames arise; At length his wife (a form divine) appears, With piercing cries, and supplicating tears; She paints the horrors of a conquer'd town, The heroes slain, the palaces o'erthrown, The matrons ravish'd, the whole race enslaved: The warrior heard, he vanquish'd, and he saved.