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Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series

Page 101

by Alexander Pope


  ‘Arm, arm, Patroclus! lo, the blaze aspires!

  The glowing ocean reddens with the fires.

  Arm, ere our vessels catch the spreading flame;

  Arm, ere the Grecians be no more a name;

  I haste to bring the troops.’ The Hero said; 160

  The friend with ardour and with joy obey’d.

  He cased his limbs in brass; and first around

  His manly legs with silver buckles bound

  The clasping greaves: then to his breast applies

  The flamy cuirass, of a thousand dyes; 165

  Emblazed with studs of gold, his falchion shone

  In the rich belt, as in a starry zone.

  Achilles’ shield his ample shoulders spread,

  Achilles’ helmet nodded o’er his head.

  Adorn’d in all his terrible array, 170

  He flash’d around intolerable day.

  Alone, untouch’d, Pelides’ jav’lin stands,

  Not to be pois’d but by Pelides’ hands:

  From Pelion’s shady brow the plant entire

  Old Chiron rent, and shaped it for his sire; 175

  Whose son’s great arm alone the weapon wields,

  The death of heroes, and the dread of fields.

  Then brave Automedon (an honour’d name,

  The second to his lord in love and fame,

  In peace his friend, and partner of the war) 180

  The winged coursers harness’d to the car.

  Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed,

  Sprung from the wind, and like the wind in speed;

  Whom the wing’d harpy, swift Podarge, bore,

  By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy shore. 185

  Swift Pedasus was added to their side

  (Once great Eëtion’s, now Achilles’ pride),

  Who, like in strength, in swiftness, and in grace,

  A mortal courser, match’d th’ immortal race.

  Achilles speeds from tent to tent, and warms 190

  His hardy Myrmidons to blood and arms.

  All breathing death, around their Chief they stand,

  A grim, terrific, formidable band;

  Grim as voracious wolves that seek the springs,

  When scalding thirst their burning bowels wrings 195

  (When some tall stag, fresh slaughter’d in the wood,

  Has drench’d their wide insatiate throats with blood);

  To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng,

  With paunch distended and with lolling tongue;

  Fire fills their eyes, their black jaws belch the gore, 200

  And, gorged with slaughter, still they thirst for more.

  Like furious rush’d the Myrmidonian crew,

  Such their dread strength, and such their dreadful view.

  High in the midst the great Achilles stands,

  Directs their order, and the war commands. 205

  He, lov’d of Jove, had launch’d for Ilion’s shores

  Full fifty vessels, mann’d with fifty oars:

  Five chosen leaders the fierce bands obey,

  Himself supreme in valour, as in sway.

  First march’d Menestheus, of celestial birth, 210

  Derived from thee, whose waters wash the earth,

  Divine Sperchins! Jove-descended flood!

  A mortal mother mixing with a God.

  Such was Menestheus, but miscall’d by Fame

  The son of Borus, that espous’d the dame. 215

  Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay,

  Famed in the graceful dance, produced to day.

  Her, sly Cyllenius lov’d; on her would gaze,

  As with swift step she form’d the running maze:

  To her high chamber, from Diana’s quire, 220

  The God pursued her, urged, and crown’d his fire.

  The son confess’d his father’s heav’nly race,

  And heir’d his mother’s swiftness in the chase.

  Strong Echecleüs, bless’d in all those charms

  That pleas’d a God, succeeded to her arms; 225

  Not conscious of those loves, long hid from fame,

  With gifts of price he sought and won the dame;

  Her secret offspring to her sire she bare;

  Her sire caress’d him with a parent’s care.

  Pisander follow’d; matchless in his art 230

  To wing the spear, or aim the distant dart;

  No hand so sure of all th’ Emathian line,

  Or if a surer, great Patroclus! thine.

  The fourth by Phœnix’ grave command was graced:

  Laërces’ valiant offspring led the last. 235

  Soon as Achilles with superior care

  Had call’d the Chiefs, and order’d all the war,

  This stern remembrance to his troops he gave:

  ‘Ye far-famed Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave!

  Think with what threats you dared the Trojan throng, 240

  Think what reproach these ears endured so long:

  “Stern son of Peleus” (thus ye used to say,

  While restless, raging, in your ships you lay),

  “Oh nurs’d with gall, unknowing how to yield!

  Whose rage defrauds us of so famed a field, 245

  If that dire fury must for ever burn,

  What make we here? Return, ye Chiefs, return!”

  Such were your words. Now, warriors, grieve no more,

  Lo there the Trojans! bathe your swords in gore!

  This day shall give you all your soul demands; 250

  Glut all your hearts! and weary all your hands!’

  Thus while he rous’d the fire in ev’ry breast,

  Close, and more close, the list’ning cohorts press’d;

  Ranks wedg’d in ranks, of arms a steely ring

  Still grows and spreads and thickens round the King. 255

  As when a circling wall the builder forms,

  Of strength defensive against winds and storms,

  Compacted stones the thick’ning work compose,

  And round him wide the rising structure grows:

  So helm to helm, and crest to crest they throng, 260

  Shield urged on shield, and man drove man along:

  Thick undistinguish’d plumes, together join’d,

  Float in one sea, and wave before the wind.

  Far o’er the rest, in glitt’ring pomp appear,

  There bold Automedon, Patroclus here; 265

  Brothers in arms, with equal fury fired;

  Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired.

  But, mindful of the Gods, Achilles went

  To the rich coffer in his shady tent:

  There lay on heaps his various garments roll’d, 270

  And costly furs, and carpets stiff with gold

  (The presents of the silver-footed dame);

  From thence he took a bowl of antique frame,

  Which never man had stain’d with ruddy wine,

  Nor rais’d in offerings but to Jove alone. 275

  But Peleus’ son; and Peleus’ son to none

  Had rais’d in offerings, but to Jove alone.

  This, tinged with sulphur, sacred first to flame,

  He purged; and wash’d it in the running stream.

  Then cleans’d his hands; and, fixing for a space 280

  His eyes on Heav’n, his feet upon the place

  Of sacrifice, the purple draught he pour’d

  Forth in the midst; and thus the God implor’d:

  ‘Oh thou Supreme! high-throned all height above!

  Oh great Pelasgic, Dodonean Jove! 285

  Who, ‘midst surrounding frosts, and vapours chill,

  Presid’st on bleak Dodona’s vocal hill

  (Whose groves the Selli, race austere!

  Their feet unwash’d, their slumbers on the ground;

  Who hear from rustling oaks thy dark decrees; 290

  And catch the fates low-whisper’d in the breeze):

  Hea
r, as of old: Thou gavest at Thetis’ prayer,

  Glory to me, and to the Greeks despair:

  Lo, to the dangers of the fighting field

  The best, the dearest of my friends, I yield: 295

  Tho’ still determin’d, to my ships confin’d,

  Patroclus gone, I stay but half behind.

  Oh be his guard thy providential care,

  Confirm his heart, and string his arm to war;

  Press’d by his single force, let Hector see 300

  His fame in arms not owing all to me.

  But when the fleets are saved from foes and fire,

  Let him with conquest and renown retire;

  Preserve his arms, preserve his social train,

  And safe return him to these eyes again!’ 305

  Great Jove consents to half the Chief’s request,

  But Heav’n’s eternal doom denies the rest:

  To free the fleet was granted to his prayer;

  His safe return the winds dispers’d in air.

  Back to his tent the stern Achilles flies, 310

  And waits the combat with impatient eyes.

  Meanwhile the troops, beneath Patroclus’ care,

  Invade the Trojans, and commence the war.

  As wasps, provoked by children in their play,

  Pour from their mansions by the broad highway, 315

  In swarms the guiltless traveller engage,

  Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage:

  All rise in arms, and with a gen’ral cry

  Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny.

  Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms, 320

  So loud their clamours, and so keen their arms;

  Their rising rage Patroclus’ breath inspires,

  Who thus inflames them with heroic fires:

  ‘Oh warriors, partners of Achilles’ praise!

  Be mindful of your deeds in ancient days: 325

  Your Godlike master let your acts proclaim,

  And add new glories to his mighty name.

  Think your Achilles sees you fight: be brave,

  And humble the proud Monarch whom you save.’

  Joyful they heard, and, kindling as he spoke, 330

  Flew to the fleet, involv’d in fire and smoke.

  From shore to shore the doubling shouts resound,

  The hollow ships return a deeper sound.

  The war stood still, and all around them gazed,

  When great Achilles’ shining armour blazed: 335

  Troy saw, and thought the dread Achilles nigh;

  At once they see, they tremble, and they fly.

  Then first thy spear, divine Patroclus! flew,

  Where the war raged, and where the tumult grew.

  Close to the stern of that famed ship, which bore 340

  Unbless’d Protesilaus to Ilion’s shore,

  The great Pæonian, bold Pyræchmes, stood,

  Who led his bands from Axius’ winding flood:

  His shoulder-blade receives the fatal wound;

  The groaning warrior pants upon the ground. 345

  His troops, that see their country’s glory slain,

  Fly diverse, scatter’d o’er the distant plain.

  Patroclus’ arm forbids the spreading fires,

  And from the half-burn’d ship proud Troy retires,

  Clear’d from the smoke the joyful navy lies, 350

  In heaps on heaps the foe tumultuous flies;

  Triumphant Greece her rescued decks ascends,

  And loud acclaim the starry region rends.

  So when thick clouds enwrap the mountain’s head,

  O’er Heav’n’s expanse like one black ceiling spread: 355

  Sudden the Thund’rer, with flashing ray,

  Bursts thro’ the darkness, and lets down the day:

  The hills shine out, the rocks in prospect rise,

  And streams, and vales, and forests strike the eyes;

  The smiling scene wide opens to the sight, 360

  And all th’ unmeasur’d ether flames with light.

  But Troy repuls’d, and scatter’d o’er the plains,

  Forc’d from the navy, yet fight maintains.

  Now ev’ry Greek some hostile hero slew,

  But still the foremost bold Patroclus flew: 365

  As Areïlycus had turn’d him round,

  Sharp in his thigh he felt the piercing wound;

  The brazen-pointed spear, with vigour thrown,

  The thigh transfix’d, and broke the brittle bone:

  Headlong he fell. Next, Thoas, was thy chance, 370

  Thy breast, unarm’d, receiv’d the Spartan lance.

  Phylides’ dart, as Amphiclus drew nigh,

  His blow prevented, and transpierc’d his thigh,

  Tore all the brawn, and rent the nerves away;

  In darkness and in death the warrior lay. 375

  In equal arms two sons of Nestor stand,

  And two bold brothers of the Lycian band:

  By great Antilochus, Antymnius dies,

  Pierc’d in the flank, lamented youth! he lies.

  Kind Maris, bleeding in his brother’s wound, 380

  Defends the breathless carcass on the ground.

  Furious he flies, his murd’rer to engage,

  But godlike Thrasymed prevents his rage:

  Between his arm and shoulder aims a blow;

  His arm falls spouting on the dust below: 385

  He sinks, with endless darkness cover’d o’er,

  And vents his soul, effused with gushing gore.

  Slain by two brothers, thus two brothers bleed,

  Sarpedon’s friends, Amisodarus’ seed;

  Amisodarus, who, by Furies led, 390

  The bane of man, abhorr’d Chimæra bred:

  Skill’d in the dart in vain, his sons expire,

  And pay the forfeit of their guilty sire.

  Stopp’d in the tumult Cleobulus lies,

  Beneath Oïleus’ arm, a living prize; 395

  A living prize not long the Trojan stood:

  The thirsty falchion drank his reeking blood;

  Plunged in his throat the smoking weapon lies:

  Black Death, and Fate unpitying, seal his eyes.

  Amid the ranks, with mutual thirst of fame, 400

  Lycon the brave, and fierce Peneleus came;

  In vain their jav’lins at each other flew;

  Now, met in arms, their eager swords they drew:

  On the plumed crest of his Bœotian foe

  The daring Lycon aim’d noble blow; 405

  The sword broke short; but his, Peneleus sped

  Full on the juncture of the neck and head:

  The head, divided by a stroke so just,

  Hung by the skin; the body sunk to dust.

  O’ertaken Acamas by Merion bleeds, 410

  Pierc’d thro’ the shoulders as he mounts his steeds:

  Back from the car he tumbles to the ground;

  His swimming eyes eternal shades surround.

  Next Erymas was doom’d his fate to feel:

  His open’d mouth receiv’d the Cretan steel; 415

  Beneath the brain the point a passage tore,

  Crash’d the thin bones, and ground the teeth in gore.

  His mouth his eyes, his nostrils, pour a flood;

  He sobs his soul out in the gush of blood.

  As when the flocks neglected by the swain 420

  (Or kids, or lambs) lie scatter’d o’er the plain,

  A troop of wolves th’ unguarded charge survey,

  And rend the trembling, unresisting prey:

  Thus on the foe the Greeks impetuous came:

  Troy fled, unmindful of her former fame. 425

  But still at Hector godlike Ajax aim’d,

  Still, pointed at his breast, his jav’lin flamed:

  The Trojan Chief, experienc’d in the field,

  O’er his broad shoulders spread the massy shield,


  Observ’d the storm of darts the Grecians pour, 430

  And on his buckler caught the ringing shower.

  He sees for Greece the scale of conquest rise,

  Yet stops, and turns, and saves his lov’d allies.

  As when the hand of Jove a tempest forms,

  And rolls the clouds to blacken Heav’n with storms, 435

  Dark o’er the fields th’ ascending vapour flies,

  And shades the sun, and blots the golden skies:

  So from the ships, along the dusky plain,

  Dire Fright and Terror drove the Trojan train.

  Ev’n Hector fled; thro’ heaps of disarray 440

  The fiery coursers forc’d their lord away:

  While far behind his Trojans fall confused,

  Wedg’d in the trench, in one vast carnage bruis’d.

  Chariots on chariots roll; the clashing spokes

  Shock; while the madd’ning steeds break short their yokes. 445

  In vain they labour up the steepy mound;

  Their charioteers lie foaming on the ground.

  Fierce on the rear, with shouts, Patroclus flies;

  Tumultuous clamour fills the fields and skies;

  Thick drifts of dust involve their rapid flight; 450

  Clouds rise on clouds, and Heav’n is snatch’d from sight.

  Th’ affrighted steeds, their dying lords cast down,

  Scour o’er the fields, and stretch to reach the town.

  Loud o’er the rout was heard the victor’s cry,

  Where the war bleeds, and where the thickest die; 455

  Where horse, and arms, and chariots, lie o’erthrown,

  And bleeding heroes under axles groan.

  No stop, no check, the steeds of Peleus knew;

  From bank to bank th’ immortal coursers flew,

  High-bounding o’er the fosse: the whirling car 460

  Smokes thro’ the ranks, o’ertakes the flying war,

  And thunders after Hector; Hector flies,

  Patroclus shakes his lance; but Fate denies.

  Not with less noise, with less impetuous force,

  The tide of Trojans urge their desperate course, 465

  Than when in autumn Jove his fury pours,

  And earth is laden with incessant showers

  (When guilty mortals break th’ eternal laws,

  Or judges, bribed, betray the righteous cause);

  From their deep beds he bids the rivers rise, 470

  And opens all the floodgates of the skies:

  Th’ impetuous torrents from their hills obey,

  Whole fields are drown’d, and mountains swept away;

  Loud roars the deluge till it meets the main;

  And trembling man sees all his labours vain. 475

  And now the Chief (the foremost troops repell’d)

  Back to the ships his destin’d progress held,

  Bore down half Troy in his resistless way,

 

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