Part 65 (1/2)
One only soul inforives him all his faht; And all his beating bosoroood a panther starts, Roused froht to fear or fly, he hears the sounds Of shouting hunters, and of clah wounded, scarce perceives the pain; And the barb'd javelin stings his breast in vain: On their whole war, untae flies; And tears his hunter, or beneath him dies
Not less resolved, Antenor's valiant heir Confronts Achilles, and awaits the war, Disdainful of retreat: high held before, His shi+eld (a broad circuraceful as he stood, in act to throw The lifted javelin, thus bespoke the foe:
”How proud Achilles glories in his fame!
And hopes this day to sink the Trojan name Beneath her ruins! Know, that hope is vain; A thousand woes, a thousand toils remain
Parents and children our just ar and many are the sons of Troy
Great as thou art, even thou ian fields, and press a foreign shore”
He said: withS Beneath the pointed steel; but safe from harms He stands impassive in the ethereal ar foe, His lifted arm prepares the fatal blow: But, jealous of his fame, Apollo shrouds The God-like Trojan in a veil of clouds
Safe from pursuit, and shut from mortal view, Dismiss'd with fame, the favoured youth withdrew
Meanwhile the God, to cover their escape, assuenor's habit, voice and shape, Flies frouise; The furious chief still follohere he flies
Now o'er the fields they stretch with lengthen'd strides, Now urge the course where swift Scalides: The God, now distant scarce a stride before, Tempts his pursuit, and wheels about the shore; While all the flying troops their speed employ, And pour on heaps into the walls of Troy: No stop, no stay; no thought to ask, or tell, Who 'scaped by flight, or who by battle fell
'Twas tuht; And sudden joy confused, and ate: And nations breathe, deliver'd from their fate
BOOK XXII
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 persuade his son to re-enter the town Hecuba joins her entreaties, but in vain Hector consults within himself what measures to take; but at the advance of Achilles, his resolution fails him, and he flies Achilles pursues hi the fate of Hector; at length Minerva descends to the aid of Achilles She deludes Hector in the shape of Deiphobus; he stands the cos the dead body at his chariot in the sight of Priam and Hecuba Their lamentations, tears, and despair Their cries reach the ears of Andronorant 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 labours of the day
Close to the walls, advancing o'er the fields Beneath one roof of well-co on, the Greeks' e in the shade of Trojan towers
Great Hector singly stay'd: chain'd down by fate There fix'd he stood before the Scaean gate; Still his bold ar-defended Troy
Apollo now to tired Achilles turns: (The power confess'd in all his glory burns:) ”And what (he cries) has Peleus' son in view, With mortal speed a Godhead to pursue?
For not to thee to know the Gods is given, Unskill'd to trace the latent marks of heaven
What boots thee now, that Troy forsook the plain?
Vain thy past labour, and thy present vain: Safe in their walls are now her troops bestow'd, While here thy frantic rage attacks a God”
The chief incensed--”Too partial God of day!
To check my conquests in the e found!
What gasping nulory justly mine, Powerful of Godhead, and of fraud divine: Mean fame, alas! for one of heavenly strain, To cheat a mortal who repines in vain”
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 ardour flies
Hi shot across the field, The careful eyes of Priaht,(274) Through the thick gloo (the year when autuhs), And o'er the feebler stars exerts his rays; Terrific glory! for his burning breath Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death
So flae: He strikes his reverend head, nohite with age; He lifts his wither'd arms; obtests the skies; He calls his much-loved son with feeble cries: The son, resolved Achilles' force to dare, Full at the Scaean gates expects the war; While the sad father on the rampart stands, And thus adjures hiuardless and alone; Hector! my loved, my dearest, bravest son!
Methinks already I behold thee slain, And stretch'd beneath that fury of the plain
Iht'st thou be To all the Gods no dearer than to me!