The generous Xanthus, as the words he said, Seem'd sensible of woe, and droop'd his head: Trembling he stood before the golden wain, And bow'd to dust the honours of his mane.

When, strange to tell! (so Juno will'd) he broke Eternal silence, and portentous spoke.

"Achilles! yes! this day at least we bear Thy rage in safety through the files of war: But come it will, the fatal time must come, Not ours the fault, but G.o.d decrees thy doom.

Not through our crime, or slowness in the course, Fell thy Patroclus, but by heavenly force; The bright far-shooting G.o.d who gilds the day (Confess'd we saw him) tore his arms way.

No--could our swiftness o'er the winds prevail, Or beat the pinions of the western gale, All were in vain--the Fates thy death demand, Due to a mortal and immortal hand."

Then ceased for ever, by the Furies tied, His fateful voice. The intrepid chief replied With unabated rage--"So let it be!

Portents and prodigies are lost on me.

I know my fate: to die, to see no more My much-loved parents, and my native sh.o.r.e-- Enough--when heaven ordains, I sink in night: Now perish Troy!" He said, and rush'd to fight.

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

HERCULES.

BOOK XX.

ARGUMENT.

THE BATTLE OF THE G.o.dS, AND THE ACTS OF ACHILLES.

Jupiter, upon Achilles' return to the battle, calls a council of the G.o.ds, and permits them to a.s.sist either party. The terrors of the combat described, when the deities are engaged. Apollo encourages aeneas to meet Achilles. After a long conversation, these two heroes encounter; but aeneas is preserved by the a.s.sistance of Neptune. Achilles falls upon the rest of the Trojans, and is upon the point of killing Hector, but Apollo conveys him away in a cloud. Achilles pursues the Trojans with a great slaughter.

The same day continues. The scene is in the field before Troy.

Thus round Pelides breathing war and blood Greece, sheathed in arms, beside her vessels stood; While near impending from a neighbouring height, Troy's black battalions wait the shock of fight.

Then Jove to Themis gives command, to call The G.o.ds to council in the starry hall: Swift o'er Olympus' hundred hills she flies, And summons all the senate of the skies.

These shining on, in long procession come To Jove's eternal adamantine dome.

Not one was absent, not a rural power That haunts the verdant gloom, or rosy bower; Each fair-hair'd dryad of the shady wood, Each azure sister of the silver flood; All but old Ocean, h.o.a.ry sire! who keeps His ancient seat beneath the sacred deeps.

On marble thrones, with lucid columns crown'd, (The work of Vulcan,) sat the powers around.

Even he whose trident sways the watery reign Heard the loud summons, and forsook the main, a.s.sumed his throne amid the bright abodes, And question'd thus the sire of men and G.o.ds:

"What moves the G.o.d who heaven and earth commands, And grasps the thunder in his awful hands, Thus to convene the whole ethereal state?

Is Greece and Troy the subject in debate?

Already met, the louring hosts appear, And death stands ardent on the edge of war."

"'Tis true (the cloud-compelling power replies) This day we call the council of the skies In care of human race; even Jove's own eye Sees with regret unhappy mortals die.

Far on Olympus' top in secret state Ourself will sit, and see the hand of fate Work out our will. Celestial powers! descend, And as your minds direct, your succour lend To either host. Troy soon must lie o'erthrown, If uncontroll'd Achilles fights alone: Their troops but lately durst not meet his eyes; What can they now, if in his rage he rise?

a.s.sist them, G.o.ds! or Ilion's sacred wall May fall this day, though fate forbids the fall."

He said, and fired their heavenly b.r.e.a.s.t.s with rage.

On adverse parts the warring G.o.ds engage: Heaven's awful queen; and he whose azure round Girds the vast globe; the maid in arms renown'd; Hermes, of profitable arts the sire; And Vulcan, the black sovereign of the fire: These to the fleet repair with instant flight; The vessels tremble as the G.o.ds alight.

In aid of Troy, Latona, Phoebus came, Mars fiery-helm'd, the laughter-loving dame, Xanthus, whose streams in golden currents flow, And the chaste huntress of the silver bow.

Ere yet the G.o.ds their various aid employ, Each Argive bosom swell'd with manly joy, While great Achilles (terror of the plain), Long lost to battle, shone in arms again.

Dreadful he stood in front of all his host; Pale Troy beheld, and seem'd already lost; Her bravest heroes pant with inward fear, And trembling see another G.o.d of war.

But when the powers descending swell'd the fight, Then tumult rose: fierce rage and pale affright Varied each face: then Discord sounds alarms, Earth echoes, and the nations rush to arms.

Now through the trembling sh.o.r.es Minerva calls, And now she thunders from the Grecian walls.

Mars hovering o'er his Troy, his terror shrouds In gloomy tempests, and a night of clouds: Now through each Trojan heart he fury pours With voice divine, from Ilion's topmost towers: Now shouts to Simois, from her beauteous hill; The mountain shook, the rapid stream stood still.

Above, the sire of G.o.ds his thunder rolls, And peals on peals redoubled rend the poles.

Beneath, stern Neptune shakes the solid ground; The forests wave, the mountains nod around; Through all their summits tremble Ida's woods, And from their sources boil her hundred floods.

Troy's turrets totter on the rocking plain, And the toss'd navies beat the heaving main.

Deep in the dismal regions of the dead,(260) The infernal monarch rear'd his horrid head, Leap'd from his throne, lest Neptune's arm should lay His dark dominions open to the day, And pour in light on Pluto's drear abodes, Abhorr'd by men, and dreadful even to G.o.ds.(261)

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE G.o.dS DESCENDING TO BATTLE.]

THE G.o.dS DESCENDING TO BATTLE.

Such war the immortals wage; such horrors rend The world's vast concave, when the G.o.ds contend First silver-shafted Phoebus took the plain Against blue Neptune, monarch of the main.

The G.o.d of arms his giant bulk display'd, Opposed to Pallas, war's triumphant maid.

Against Latona march'd the son of May.

The quiver'd Dian, sister of the day, (Her golden arrows sounding at her side,) Saturnia, majesty of heaven, defied.

With fiery Vulcan last in battle stands The sacred flood that rolls on golden sands; Xanthus his name with those of heavenly birth, But called Scamander by the sons of earth.

While thus the G.o.ds in various league engage, Achilles glow'd with more than mortal rage: Hector he sought; in search of Hector turn'd His eyes around, for Hector only burn'd; And burst like lightning through the ranks, and vow'd To glut the G.o.d of battles with his blood.

aeneas was the first who dared to stay; Apollo wedged him in the warrior's way, But swell'd his bosom with undaunted might, Half-forced and half-persuaded to the fight.

Like young Lycaon, of the royal line, In voice and aspect, seem'd the power divine; And bade the chief reflect, how late with scorn In distant threats he braved the G.o.ddess-born.

Then thus the hero of Anchises' strain: "To meet Pelides you persuade in vain: Already have I met, nor void of fear Observed the fury of his flying spear; From Ida's woods he chased us to the field, Our force he scattered, and our herds he kill'd; Lyrnessus, Pedasus in ashes lay; But (Jove a.s.sisting) I survived the day: Else had I sunk oppress'd in fatal fight By fierce Achilles and Minerva's might.

Where'er he moved, the G.o.ddess shone before, And bathed his brazen lance in hostile gore.

What mortal man Achilles can sustain?

The immortals guard him through the dreadful plain, And suffer not his dart to fall in vain.

Were G.o.d my aid, this arm should check his power, Though strong in battle as a brazen tower."

To whom the son of Jove: "That G.o.d implore, And be what great Achilles was before.

From heavenly Venus thou deriv'st thy strain, And he but from a sister of the main; An aged sea-G.o.d father of his line; But Jove himself the sacred source of thine.

Then lift thy weapon for a n.o.ble blow, Nor fear the vaunting of a mortal foe."

This said, and spirit breathed into his breast, Through the thick troops the embolden'd hero press'd: His venturous act the white-arm'd queen survey'd, And thus, a.s.sembling all the powers, she said:

"Behold an action, G.o.ds! that claims your care, Lo great aeneas rushing to the war!

Against Pelides he directs his course, Phoebus impels, and Phoebus gives him force.

Restrain his bold career; at least, to attend Our favour'd hero, let some power descend.

To guard his life, and add to his renown, We, the great armament of heaven, came down.

Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design, That spun so short his life's ill.u.s.trious line:(262) But lest some adverse G.o.d now cross his way, Give him to know what powers a.s.sist this day: For how shall mortal stand the dire alarms, When heaven's refulgent host appear in arms?"(263)

Thus she; and thus the G.o.d whose force can make The solid globe's eternal basis shake: "Against the might of man, so feeble known, Why should celestial powers exert their own?

Suffice from yonder mount to view the scene, And leave to war the fates of mortal men.

But if the armipotent, or G.o.d of light, Obstruct Achilles, or commence the fight.

Thence on the G.o.ds of Troy we swift descend: Full soon, I doubt not, shall the conflict end; And these, in ruin and confusion hurl'd, Yield to our conquering arms the lower world."

Thus having said, the tyrant of the sea, Coerulean Neptune, rose, and led the way.

Advanced upon the field there stood a mound Of earth congested, wall'd, and trench'd around; In elder times to guard Alcides made, (The work of Trojans, with Minerva's aid,) What time a vengeful monster of the main Swept the wide sh.o.r.e, and drove him to the plain.