William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

  Now feel the furies of thy mother’s ire 485

  Who hates thee for thy treachery to the Greeks,

  And for thy succor given to faithless Troy.

  She said, and turn’d from Mars her glorious eyes.

  But him deep-groaning and his torpid powers

  Recovering slow, Venus conducted thence 490

  Daughter of Jove, whom soon as Juno mark’d,

  In accents wing’d to Pallas thus she spake.

  Daughter invincible of glorious Jove!

  Haste — follow her — Ah shameless! how she leads

  Gore-tainted Mars through all the host of heaven. 495

  527 So she, whom Pallas with delight obey’d;

  To Venus swift she flew, and on the breast

  With such force smote her that of sense bereft

  The fainting Goddess fell. There Venus lay

  And Mars extended on the fruitful glebe, 500

  And Pallas thus in accents wing’d exclaim’d.

  I would that all who on the part of Troy

  Oppose in fight Achaia’s valiant sons,

  Were firm and bold as Venus in defence

  Of Mars, for whom she dared my power defy! 505

  So had dissension (Ilium overthrown

  And desolated) ceased long since in heaven.

  So Pallas, and approving Juno smiled.

  Then the imperial Shaker of the shores

  Thus to Apollo. Phœbus! wherefore stand 510

  We thus aloof? Since others have begun,

  Begin we also; shame it were to both

  Should we, no combat waged, ascend again

  Olympus and the brass-built hall of Jove.

  Begin, for thou art younger; me, whose years 515

  Alike and knowledge thine surpass so far,

  It suits not. Oh stupidity! how gross

  Art thou and senseless! Are no traces left

  In thy remembrance of our numerous wrongs

  Sustain’d at Ilium, when, of all the Gods 520

  Ourselves alone, by Jove’s commandment, served

  For stipulated hire, a year complete,

  Our task-master the proud Laomedon?

  Myself a bulwark’d town, spacious, secure

  Against assault, and beautiful as strong 525

  Built for the Trojans, and thine office was

  To feed for King Laomedon his herds

  Among the groves of Ida many-valed.

  But when the gladsome hours the season brought

  Of payment, then the unjust King of Troy 530

  Dismiss’d us of our whole reward amerced

  By violence, and added threats beside.

  Thee into distant isles, bound hand and foot,

  528 To sell he threatened, and to amputate

  The ears of both; we, therefore, hasted thence 535

  Resenting deep our promised hire withheld.

  Aid’st thou for this the Trojans? Canst thou less

  Than seek, with us, to exterminate the whole

  Perfidious race, wives, children, husbands, all?

  To whom the King of radiant shafts Apollo. 540

  Me, Neptune, thou wouldst deem, thyself, unwise

  Contending for the sake of mortal men

  With thee; a wretched race, who like the leaves

  Now flourish rank, by fruits of earth sustain’d,

  Now sapless fall. Here, therefore, us between 545

  Let all strife cease, far better left to them.

  He said, and turn’d away, fearing to lift

  His hand against the brother of his sire.

  But him Diana of the woods with sharp

  Rebuke, his huntress sister, thus reproved. 550

  Fly’st thou, Apollo! and to Neptune yield’st

  An unearn’d victory, the prize of fame

  Resigning patient and with no dispute?

  Fool! wherefore bearest thou the bow in vain?

  Ah, let me never in my father’s courts 555

  Hear thee among the immortals vaunting more

  That thou wouldst Neptune’s self confront in arms.

  So she, to whom Apollo nought replied.

  But thus the consort of the Thunderer, fired

  With wrath, reproved the Archeress of heaven. 560

  How hast thou dared, impudent, to oppose

  My will? Bow-practised as thou art, the task

  To match my force were difficult to thee.

  Is it, because by ordinance of Jove

  Thou art a lioness to womankind, 565

  Killing them at thy pleasure? Ah beware —

  Far easier is it, on the mountain-heights

  529 To slay wild beasts and chase the roving hind,

  Than to conflict with mightier than ourselves.

  But, if thou wish a lesson on that theme, 570

  Approach — thou shalt be taught with good effect

  How far my force in combat passes thine.

  She said, and with her left hand seizing both

  Diana’s wrists, snatch’d suddenly the bow

  Suspended on her shoulder with the right, 575

  And, smiling, smote her with it on the ears.

  She, writhing oft and struggling, to the ground

  Shook forth her rapid shafts, then, weeping, fled

  As to her cavern in some hollow rock

  The dove, not destined to his talons, flies 580

  The hawk’s pursuit, and left her arms behind.

  Then, messenger of heaven, the Argicide

  Address’d Latona. Combat none with thee,

  Latona, will I wage. Unsafe it were

  To cope in battle with a spouse of Jove. 585

  Go, therefore, loudly as thou wilt, proclaim

  To all the Gods that thou hast vanquish’d me.

  Collecting, then, the bow and arrows fallen

  In wild disorder on the dusty plain,

  Latona with the sacred charge withdrew 590

  Following her daughter; she, in the abode

  Brass-built arriving of Olympian Jove,

  Sat on his knees, weeping till all her robe

  Ambrosial shook. The mighty Father smiled,

  And to his bosom straining her, inquired. 595

  Daughter beloved! who, which of all the Gods

  Hath raised his hand, presumptuous, against thee,

  As if convicted of some open wrong?

  To whom the clear-voiced Huntress crescent-crown’d.

  My Father! Juno, thy own consort fair 600

  My sorrow caused, from whom dispute and strife

  Perpetual, threaten the immortal Powers.

  Thus they in heaven mutual conferr’d. Meantime

  Apollo into sacred Troy return’d

  Mindful to guard her bulwarks, lest the Greeks 605

  530 Too soon for Fate should desolate the town.

  The other Gods, some angry, some elate

  With victory, the Olympian heights regain’d,

  And sat beside the Thunderer. But the son

  Of Peleus — He both Trojans slew and steeds. 610

  As when in volumes slow smoke climbs the skies

  From some great city which the Gods have fired

  Vindictive, sorrow thence to many ensues

  With mischief, and to all labor severe,

  So caused Achilles labor on that day, 615

  Severe, and mischief to the men of Troy.

  But ancient Priam from a sacred tower

  Stood looking forth, whence soon he noticed vast

  Achilles, before whom the Trojans fled

  All courage lost. Descending from the tower 620

  With mournful cries and hasting to the wall

  He thus enjoin’d the keepers of the gates.

  Hold wide the portals till the flying host

  Re-enter, for himself is nigh, himself

  Achilles drives them home. Now, wo to Troy! 625

  But soon as safe within the walls received

  They breathe ag
ain, shut fast the ponderous gates

  At once, lest that destroyer also pass.

  He said; they, shooting back the bars, threw wide

  The gates and saved the people, whom to aid 630

  Apollo also sprang into the field,

  They, parch’d with drought and whiten’d all with dust,

  Flew right toward the town, while, spear in hand,

  Achilles press’d them, vengeance in his heart

  And all on fire for glory. Then, full sure, 635

  Ilium, the city of lofty gates, had fallen

  Won by the Grecians, had not Phœbus roused

  Antenor’s valiant son, the noble Chief

  Agenor; him with dauntless might he fill’d,

  And shielding him against the stroke of fate 640

  Beside him stood himself, by the broad beech

  Cover’d and wrapt in clouds. Agenor then,

  Seeing the city-waster hero nigh

  531 Achilles, stood, but standing, felt his mind

  Troubled with doubts; he groan’d, and thus he mused. 645

  Alas! if following the tumultuous flight

  Of these, I shun Achilles, swifter far

  He soon will lop my ignominious head.

  But if, these leaving to be thus dispersed

  Before him, from the city-wall I fly 650

  Across the plain of Troy into the groves

  Of Ida, and in Ida’s thickets lurk,

  I may, at evening, to the town return

  Bathed and refresh’d. But whither tend my thoughts?

  Should he my flight into the plain observe 655

  And swift pursuing seize me, then, farewell

  All hope to scape a miserable death,

  For he hath strength passing the strength of man.

  How then — shall I withstand him here before

  The city? He hath also flesh to steel 660

  Pervious, within it but a single life,

  And men report him mortal, howsoe’er

  Saturnian Jove lift him to glory now.

  So saying, he turn’d and stood, his dauntless heart

  Beating for battle. As the pard springs forth 665

  To meet the hunter from her gloomy lair,

  Nor, hearing loud the hounds, fears or retires,

  But whether from afar or nigh at hand

  He pierce her first, although transfixt, the fight

  Still tries, and combats desperate till she fall, 670

  So, brave Antenor’s son fled not, or shrank,

  Till he had proved Achilles, but his breast

  O’ershadowing with his buckler and his spear

  Aiming well-poised against him, loud exclaim’d.

  Renown’d Achilles! Thou art high in hope 675

  Doubtless, that thou shalt this day overthrow

  The city of the glorious sons of Troy.

  Fool! ye must labor yet ere she be won,

  532 For numerous are her citizens and bold,

  And we will guard her for our parents’ sake 680

  Our wives and little ones. But here thou diest

  Terrible Chief and dauntless as thou art.

  He said, and with full force hurling his lance

  Smote, and err’d not, his greave beneath his knee

  The glittering tin, forged newly, at the stroke 685

  Tremendous rang, but quick recoil’d and vain

  The weapon, weak against that guard divine.

  Then sprang Achilles in his turn to assail

  Godlike Agenor, but Apollo took

  That glory from him, snatching wrapt in clouds 690

  Agenor thence, whom calm he sent away.

  Then Phœbus from pursuit of Ilium’s host

  By art averted Peleus’ son; the form

  Assuming of Agenor, swift he fled

  Before him, and Achilles swift pursued. 695

  While him Apollo thus lured to the chase

  Wide o’er the fruitful plain, inclining still

  Toward Scamander’s dizzy stream his course

  Nor flying far before, but with false hope

  Always beguiling him, the scatter’d host 700

  Meantime, in joyful throngs, regain’d the town.

  They fill’d and shut it fast, nor dared to wait

  Each other in the field, or to inquire

  Who lived and who had fallen, but all, whom flight

  Had rescued, like a flood pour’d into Troy. 705

  The Trojans being now within the city, excepting Hector, the field is cleared for the most important and decisive action in the poem; that is, the battle between Achilles and Hector, and the death of the latter. This part of the story is managed with singular skill. It seems as if the poet, feeling the importance of the catastrophe, wished to withdraw from view the personages of less consequence, and to concentrate our attention upon those two alone. The poetic action and description are narrowed in extent, but deepened in interest. The fate of Troy is impending; the irreversible decree of Jupiter is about to be executed; the heroes, whose bravery is to be the instrument of bringing about this consummation, are left together on the plain. — Felton.

  ARGUMENT OF THE TWENTY-SECOND BOOK.

  Achilles slays Hector.

  BOOK XXII.

  Thus they, throughout all Troy, like hunted fawns

  Dispersed, their trickling limbs at leisure cool’d,

  And, drinking, slaked their fiery thirst, reclined

  Against the battlements. Meantime, the Greeks

  Sloping their shields, approach’d the walls of Troy, 5

  And Hector, by his adverse fate ensnared,

  Still stood exposed before the Scæan gate.

  Then spake Apollo thus to Peleus’ son.

  Wherefore, thyself mortal, pursuest thou me

  Immortal? oh Achilles! blind with rage, 10

  Thou know’st not yet, that thou pursuest a God.

  Unmindful of thy proper task, to press

  The flying Trojans, thou hast hither turn’d

  Devious, and they are all now safe in Troy;

  Yet hope me not to slay; I cannot die. 15

  To whom Achilles swiftest of the swift,

  Indignant. Oh, of all the Powers above

  To me most adverse, Archer of the skies!

  Thou hast beguiled me, leading me away

  From Ilium far, whence intercepted, else, 20

  No few had at this moment gnaw’d the glebe.

  Thou hast defrauded me of great renown,

  And, safe thyself, hast rescued them with ease.

  Ah — had I power, I would requite thee well.

  So saying, incensed he turned toward the town 25

  His rapid course, like some victorious steed

  536 That whirls, at stretch, a chariot to the goal.

  Such seem’d Achilles, coursing light the field.

  Him, first, the ancient King of Troy perceived

  Scouring the plain, resplendent as the star 30

  Autumnal, of all stars in dead of night

  Conspicous most, and named Orion’s dog;

  Brightest it shines, but ominous, and dire

  Disease portends to miserable man;

  So beam’d Achilles’ armor as he flew. 35

  Loud wail’d the hoary King; with lifted hands

  His head he smote, and, uttering doleful cries

  Of supplication, sued to his own son.

  He, fixt before the gate, desirous stood

  Of combat with Achilles, when his sire 40

  With arms outstretch’d toward him, thus began.

  My Hector! wait not, oh my son! the approach

  Of this dread Chief, alone, lest premature

  Thou die, this moment by Achilles slain,

  For he is strongest far. Oh that the Gods 45

  Him loved as I! then, soon should vultures rend

  And dogs his carcase, and my grief should cease.

  He hath unchilded me of many a son,

  Al
l valiant youths, whom he hath slain or sold

  To distant isles, and even now, I miss 50

  Two sons, whom since the shutting of the gates

  I find not, Polydorus and Lycaon,

  My children by Laothöe the fair.

  If they survive prisoners in yonder camp,

  I will redeem them with gold and brass 55

  By noble Eltes to his daughter given,

  Large store, and still reserved. But should they both,

  Already slain, have journey’d to the shades,

  We, then, from whom they sprang have cause to mourn

  537 And mourn them long, but shorter shall the grief 60

  Of Ilium prove, if thou escape and live.

  Come then, my son! enter the city-gate

  That thou may’st save us all, nor in thy bloom

  Of life cut off, enhance Achilles’ fame.

  Commiserate also thy unhappy sire 65

  Ere yet distracted, whom Saturnian Jove

  Ordains to a sad death, and ere I die

  To woes innumerable; to behold

  Sons slaughter’d, daughters ravish’d, torn and stripp’d

  The matrimonial chamber, infants dash’d 70

  Against the ground in dire hostility,

  And matrons dragg’d by ruthless Grecian hands.

  Me, haply, last of all, dogs shall devour

  In my own vestibule, when once the spear

  Or falchion of some Greek hath laid me low. 75

  The very dogs fed at my table-side,

  My portal-guards, drinking their master’s blood

  To drunkenness, shall wallow in my courts.

  Fair falls the warlike youth in battle slain,

  And when he lies torn by the pointed steel, 80

  His death becomes him well; he is secure,

  Though dead, from shame, whatever next befalls:

  But when the silver locks and silver beard

  Of an old man slain by the sword, from dogs

  Receive dishonor, of all ills that wait 85

  On miserable man, that sure is worst.

  So spake the ancient King, and his grey hairs

  Pluck’d with both hands, but Hector firm endured.

  On the other side all tears his mother stood,

  And lamentation; with one hand she bared, 90