THE ARGUMENT

By Jove’s permission, all the Gods descend
To aid on both parts. For the Greeks contend
Juno, Minerva, Neptune, Mulciber,
And Mercury. The Deities that prefer
The Trojan part are Phœbus, Cyprides,
Phœbe, Latona, and the Foe to peace,
With bright Scamander. Neptune in a mist
Preserves Æneas daring to resist
Achilles; by whose hand much scathe is done;
Besides the slaughter of old Priam’s son
Young Polydor, whose rescue Hector makes;
Him flying, Phœbus to his rescue takes.
The rest, all shunning their importun’d fates,
Achilles beats even to the Ilian gates.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT

In Upsilon, Strife stirs in heav’n;
The day’s grace to the Greeks is giv’n.

The Greeks thus arm’d, and made insatiate with desire of fight,
About thee, Peleus’ son, the foe, in ground of greatest height,
Stood opposite, rang’d. Then Jove charg’d Themis from Olympus’ top
To call a court. She ev’ry way dispers’d, and summon’d up
All Deities; not any flood, besides Oceanus,
But made appearance; not a nymph (that arbours odorous,
The heads of floods, and flow’ry meadows, make their sweet abodes)
Was absent there; but all at his court, that is King of Gods,
Assembled, and, in lightsome seats of admirable frame,
Perform’d for Jove by Vulcan, sat. Ev’n angry Neptune came,
Nor heard the Goddess with unwilling ear, but with the rest
Made free ascension from the sea, and did his state invest
In midst of all, began the council, and inquir’d of Jove
His reason for that sessión, and on what point did move
His high intention for the foes; he thought the heat of war
Was then near breaking out in flames? To him the Thunderer:
“Thou knowest this council by the rest of those fore-purposes
That still inclin’d me; my cares still must succour the distress
Of Troy; though in the mouth of Fate, yet vow I not to stir
One step from off this top of heav’n, but all th’ affair refer
To anyone. Here I’ll hold state, and freely take the joy
Of either’s fate. Help whom ye please; for ’tis assur’d that Troy
Not one day’s conflict can sustain against Æacides,
If Heav’n oppose not. His mere looks threw darts enow t’ impress
Their pow’rs with trembling; but when blows, sent from his fi’ry hand,
(Thrice heat by slaughter of his friend) shall come and countermand
Their former glories, we have fear, that though Fate keep their wall,
He’ll overturn it. Then descend; and cease not till ye all
Add all your aids; mix earth and heav’n together with the fight
Achilles urgeth.” These his words did such a war excite
As no man’s pow’r could wrastle down; the Gods with parted hearts
Departed heav’n, and made earth war. To guide the Grecian darts,
Juno and Pallas, with the God that doth the earth embrace,
And most-for-man’s-use Mercury (whom good wise inwards grace)
Were partially and all employ’d; and with them halted down
(Proud of his strength) lame Mulciber, his walkers quite misgrown,
But made him tread exceeding sure. To aid the Ilian side,
The changeable in arms went, Mars; and him accompanied
Diana that delights in shafts, and Phœbus never shorn,
And Aphrodite laughter-pleas’d, and She of whom was born
Still young Apollo, and the Flood that runs on golden sands
Bright Xanthus. All these aided Troy; and, till these lent their hands,
The Grecians triumph’d in the aid Æacides did add;
The Trojans trembling with his sight; so gloriously clad
He overshin’d the field, and Mars no harmfuller than he,
He bore the iron stream on clear. But when Jove’s high decree
Let fall the Gods amongst their troops, the field swell’d, and the fight
Grew fierce and horrible. The Dame, that armies doth excite,
Thunder’d with clamour, sometimes set at dike without the wall,
And sometimes on the bellowing shore. On th’ other side, the call
Of Mars to fight was terrible, he cried out like a storm,
Set on the city’s pinnacles; and there he would inform
Sometimes his heart’nings, other times where Simois pours on
His silver current at the foot of high Callicolon.
And thus the bless’d Gods both sides urg’d; they all stood in the mids,
And brake contention to the hosts. And over all their heads
The Gods’ King in abhorréd claps his thunder rattled out.
Beneath them Neptune toss’d the earth; the mountains round about
Bow’d with affright and shook their heads; Jove’s hill the earthquake felt,
(Steep Ida) trembling at her roots, and all her fountains spilt,
Their brows all crannied; Troy did nod; the Grecian navy play’d
As on the sea; th’ Infernal King, that all things frays, was fray’d,
And leap’d affrighted from his throne, cried out, lest over him
Neptune should rend in two the earth, and so his house, so dim,
So loathsome, filthy, and abhorr’d of all the Gods beside,
Should open both to Gods and men. Thus all things shook and cried,
When this black battle of the Gods was joining. Thus array’d
‘Gainst Neptune, Phœbus with wing’d shafts; ’gainst Mars, the blue-ey’d Maid;
‘Gainst Juno, Phœbe, whose white hands bore singing darts of gold,
Her side arm’d with a sheaf of shafts, and (by the birth twofold
Of bright Latona) sister twin to Him that shoots so far.
Against Latona, Hermes stood, grave guard, in peace and war,
Of human beings. ’Gainst the God, whose empire is in fire,
The wat’ry Godhead, that great Flood, to show whose pow’r entire
In spoil as th’ other, all his stream on lurking whirlpits trod,
Xanthus by Gods, by men Scamander, call’d. Thus God ’gainst God
Enter’d the field. Æacides sustain’d a fervent mind
To cope with Hector; past all these, his spirit stood inclin’d
To glut Mars with the blood of him. And at Æacides
Apollo sent Anchises’ son; but first he did impress
A more than natural strength in him, and made him feel th’ excess
Infus’d from heav’n; Lycaon’s shape gave show to his address,
(Old Priam’s son) and thus he spake: “Thou counsellor of Troy,
Where now fly out those threats that late put all our peers in joy
Of thy fight with Æacides? Thy tongue once, steep’d in wine,
Durst vaunt as much.” He answer’d him: “But why wouldst thou incline
My pow’rs ’gainst that proud enemy, and ’gainst my present heat?
I mean not now to bid him blows. That fear sounds my retreat,
That heretofore discourag’d me, when after he had ras’d
Lyrnessus, and strong Pedasus, his still breath’d fury chas’d
Our oxen from th’ Idæan hill, and set on me; but Jove
Gave strength and knees, and bore me off, that had not walk’d above
This centre now but propp’d by him; Minerva’s hand (that held
A light to this her favourite, whose beams show’d and impell’d
His pow’rs to spoil) had ruin’d me, for these ears heard her cry:
‘Kill, kill the seed of Ilion, kill th’ Asian Lelegi.’
Mere man then must not fight with him that still hath Gods to friend,
Averting death on others’ darts, and giving his no end
But with the ends of men. If God like fortune in the fight
Would give my forces, not with ease wing’d victory should light
On his proud shoulders, nor he ’scape, though all of brass he boasts
His plight consisteth.” He replied: “Pray thou those Gods of hosts,
Whom he implores, as well as he; and his chance may be thine;
Thou cam’st of Gods like him; the Queen that reigns in Salamine
Fame sounds thy mother; he deriv’d of lower Deity,
Old Nereus’ daughter bearing him. Bear then thy heart as high,
And thy unwearied steel as right; nor utterly be beat
With only cruelty of words, not proof against a threat.”
This strengthen’d him, and forth he rush’d; nor could his strength’ning fly
White-wristed Juno, nor his drifts. She ev’ry Deity
Of th’ Achive faction called to her, and said: “Ye must have care,
Neptune and Pallas, for the frame of this important war
Ye undertake here. Venus’ son, by Phœbus being impell’d,
Runs on Achilles; turn him back, or see our friend upheld
By one of us. Let not the spirit of Æacides
Be over-dar’d, but make him know the mightiest Deities
Stand kind to him; and that the Gods, protectors of these tow’rs
That fight against Greece, and were here before our eminent pow’rs,
Bear no importance. And besides, that all we stoop from heav’n,
To curb this fight, that no impair be to his person giv’n
By any Trojans, nor their aids, while this day bears the sun.
Hereafter, all things that are wrapp’d in his birth-thread, and spun
By Parcas in that point of time his mother gave him air,
He must sustain. But if report perform not the repair
Of all this to him, by the voice of some Immortal State,
He may be fearful (if some God should set on him) that Fate
Makes him her minister. The Gods, when they appear to men,
And manifest their proper forms, are passing dreadful then.”
Neptune replied: “Saturnia, at no time let your care
Exceed your reason; ’tis not fit. Where only humans are,
We must not mix the hands of Gods, our odds is too extreme.
Sit we by, in some place of height, where we may see to them,
And leave the wars of men to men. But if we see from thence
Or Mars or Phœbus enter fight, or offer least offence
To Thetis’ son, not giving free way to his conqu’ring rage,
Then comes the conflict to our cares; we soon shall disengage
Achilles, and send them to heav’n, to settle their abode
With equals, flying under-strifes.” This said, the black-hair’d God
Led to the tow’r of Hercules, built circular and high
By Pallas and the Ilians, for fit security
To Jove’s divine son ’gainst the whale, that drave him from the shore
To th’ ample field. There Neptune sat, and all the Gods that bore
The Greeks good meaning, casting all thick mantles made of clouds
On their bright shoulders. Th’ oppos’d Gods sat hid in other shrouds
On top of steep Callicolon, about thy golden sides,
O Phœbus, brandisher of darts, and thine, whose rage abides
No peace in cities. In this state, these Gods in council sate,
All ling’ring purpos’d fight, to try who first would elevate
His heav’nly weapon. High-thron’d Jove cried out to set them on,
Said, all the field was full of men, and that the earth did groan
With feet of proud encounterers, burn’d with the arms of men
And barbed horse. Two champions for both the armies then
Met in their midst prepar’d for blows; divine Æacides,
And Venus’ son. Æneas first stepp’d threat’ning forth the prease,
His high helm nodding, and his breast barr’d with a shady shield,
And shook his jav’lin. Thetis’ son did his part to the field.
As when the harmful king of beasts (sore threaten’d to be slain
By all the country up in arms) at first makes coy disdain
Prepare resistance, but at last, when anyone hath led
Bold charge upon him with his dart, he then turns yawning head,
Fell anger lathers in his jaws, his great heart swells, his stern
Lasheth his strength up, sides and thighs waddled with stripes to learn
Their own pow’r, his eyes glow, he roars, and in he leaps to kill,
Secure of killing; so his pow’r then rous’d up to his will
Matchless Achilles, coming on to meet Anchises’ son.
Both near, Achilles thus inquir’d: “Why stand’st thou thus alone,
Thou son of Venus? Calls thy heart to change of blows with me?
Sure Troy’s whole kingdom is propos’d: some one hath promis’d thee
The throne of Priam for my life; but Priam’s self is wise,
And, for my slaughter, not so mad to make his throne thy prise.
Priam hath sons to second him. Is’t then some piece of land,
Past others fit to set and sow, that thy victorious hand
The Ilians offer for my head? I hope that prise will prove
No easy conquest. Once, I think, my busy jav’lin drove,
With terror, those thoughts from your spleen. Retain’st thou not the time,
When single on th’ Idæan hill I took thee with the crime
Of runaway, thy oxen left, and when thou hadst no face
That I could see; thy knees bereft it, and Lyrnessus was
The mask for that? Then that mask, too, I open’d to the air
(By Jove and Pallas’ help) and took the free light from the fair,
Your ladies bearing prisoners; but Jove and th’ other Gods
Then saft thee. Yet again I hope, they will not add their odds
To save thy wants, as thou presum’st. Retire then, aim not at
Troy’s throne by me; fly ere thy soul flies; fools are wise too late.”
He answer’d him: “Hope not that words can child-like terrify
My stroke-proof breast. I well could speak in this indecency,
And use tart terms; but we know well what stock us both put out,
Too gentle to bear fruits so rude. Our parents ring about
The world’s round bosom, and by fame their dignities are blown
To both our knowledges, by sight neither to either known,
Thine to mine eyes, nor mine to thine. Fame sounds thy worthiness
From famous Peleus; the sea-nymph, that hath the lovely tress,
Thetis, thy mother; I myself affirm my sire to be
Great-soul’d Anchises; she that holds the Paphian Deity,
My mother. And of these this light is now t’ exhale the tears
For their lov’d issue; thee or me; childish, unworthy, dares
Are not enough to part our pow’rs; for if thy spirits want
Due excitation, by distrust of that desert I vaunt,
To set up all rests for my life, I’ll lineally prove
(Which many will confirm) my race. First, cloud-commanding Jove
Was sire to Dardanus, that built Dardania; for the walls
Of sacred Ilion spread not yet these fields; those fair-built halls
Of divers-languag’d men, not rais’d; all then made populous
The foot of Ida’s fountful hill. This Jove-got Dardanus
Begot king Erichthonius, for wealth past all compares
Of living mortals; in his fens he fed three thousand mares,
All neighing by their tender foals, of which twice-six were bred
By lofty Boreas, their dams lov’d by him as they fed,
He took the brave form of a horse that shook an azure mane,
And slept with them. These twice-six colts had pace so swift, they ran
Upon the top-ayles of corn-ears, nor bent them any whit;
And when the broad back of the sea their pleasure was to sit,
The superficies of his waves they slid upon, their hoves
Not dipp’d in dank sweat of his brows. Of Erichthonius’ loves
Sprang Tros, the king of Trojans. Tros three young princes bred,
Ilus, renown’d Assaracus, and heav’nly Ganymed
The fairest youth of all that breath’d, whom, for his beauty’s love,
The Gods did ravish to their state, to bear the cup to Jove.
Ilus begot Laomedon, God-like Laomedon
Got Tithon, Priam, Clytius, Mars-like Hycetaon,
And Lampus. Great Assaracus, Capys begot; and he
Anchises. Prince Anchises, me. King Priam, Hector. We
Sprang both of one high family. Thus fortunate men give birth,
But Jove gives virtue; he augments, and he impairs the worth
Of all men; and his will their rule; he, strong’st, all strength affords.
Why then paint we, like dames, the face of conflict with our words?
Both may give language that a ship, driv’n with a hundred oars,
Would overburthen. A man’s tongue is voluble, and pours
Words out of all sorts ev’ry way. Such as you speak you hear.
What then need we vie calumnies, like women that will wear
Their tongues out, being once incens’d, and strive for strife to part
(Being on their way) they travel so? From words, words may avert;
From virtue, not. It is your steel, divine Æacides,
Must prove my proof, as mine shall yours.” Thus amply did he ease
His great heart of his pedigree; and sharply sent away
A dart that caught Achilles’ shield, and rung so it did fray
The son of Thetis, his fair hand far-thrusting out his shield,
For fear the long lance had driv’n through. O fool, to think ’twould yield,
And not to know the God’s firm gifts want want to yield so soon
To men’s poor pow’rs. The eager lance had only conquest won
Of two plates, and the shield had five, two forg’d of tin, two brass,
One, that was centre-plate, of gold; and that forbad the pass
Of Anchisiades’s lance. Then sent Achilles forth
His lance, that through the first fold strook, where brass of little worth
And no great proof of hides was laid; through all which Pelias ran
His iron head, and after it his ashen body wan
Pass to the earth, and there it stuck, his top on th’ other side,
And hung the shield up; which hard down Æneas pluck’d, to hide
His breast from sword blows, shrunk up round, and in his heavy eye
Was much grief shadow’d, much afraid that Pelias stuck so nigh.
Then prompt Achilles rushing in, his sword drew; and the field
Rung with his voice. Æneas now, left and let hang his shield,
And all-distracted, up he snatch’d a two-men’s strength of stone,
And either at his shield or casque he set it rudely gone,
Nor car’d where, so it strook a place that put on arms for death.
But he (Achilles came so close) had doubtless sunk beneath
His own death had not Neptune seen and interpos’d the odds
Of his divine pow’r, utt’ring this to the Achaian Gods:
“I grieve for this great-hearted man; he will be sent to hell,
Ev’n instantly, by Peleus’ son, being only mov’d to deal
By Phœbus’ words. What fool is he! Phœbus did never mean
To add to his great words his guard against the ruin then
Summon’d against him. And what cause, hath he to head him on
To others’ mis’ries, he being clear of any trespass done
Against the Grecians? Thankful gifts he oft hath giv’n to us.
Let us then quit him, and withdraw this combat; for if thus
Achilles end him, Jove will rage; since his escape in fate
Is purpos’d, lest the progeny of Dardanus take date,
Whom Jove, past all his issue, lov’d, begot of mortal dames.
All Priam’s race he hates; and this must propagate the names
Of Trojans, and their sons’ sons’ rule, to all posterity.”
Saturnia said: “Make free your pleasure. Save, or let him die.
Pallas and I have taken many, and most public, oaths,
That th’ ill day never shall avert her eye, red with our wroths,
From hated Troy; no, not when all in studied fire she flames
The Greek rage, blowing her last coal.” This nothing turn’d his aims
From present rescue, but through all the whizzing spears he pass’d,
And came where both were combating; when instantly he cast
A mist before Achilles’ eyes, drew from the earth and shield
His lance, and laid it at his feet; and then took up and held
Aloft the light Anchises’ son, who pass’d, with Neptune’s force,
Whole orders of heroës’ heads, and many a troop of horse
Leap’d over, till the bounds he reach’d of all the fervent broil,
Where all the Caucons’ quarters lay. Thus, far freed from the toil,
Neptune had time to use these words: “Æneas, who was he
Of all the Gods, that did so much neglect thy good and thee
To urge thy fight with Thetis’ son, who in immortal rates
Is better and more dear than thee? Hereafter, lest, past fates,
Hell be thy headlong home, retire, make bold stand never near
Where he advanceth. But his fate once satisfied, then bear
A free and full sail; no Greek else shall end thee.” This reveal’d,
He left him, and dispers’d the cloud, that all this act conceal’d
From vex’d Achilles; who again had clear light from the skies,
And, much disdaining the escape, said: “O ye Gods, mine eyes
Discover miracles! My lance submitted, and he gone
At whom I sent it with desire of his confusion!
Æneas sure was lov’d of heav’n. I thought his vaunt from thence
Had flow’d from glory. Let him go, no more experience
Will his mind long for of my hands, he flies them now so clear.
Cheer then the Greeks, and others try.” Thus rang’d he ev’rywhere
The Grecian orders; ev’ry man (of which the most look’d on
To see their fresh lord shake his lance) he thus put charge upon:
“Divine Greeks, stand not thus at gaze, but man to man apply
Your sev’ral valours. ’Tis a task laid too unequally
On me left to so many men, one man oppos’d to all.
Not Mars, immortal and a God, not war’s She-General,
A field of so much fight could chase, and work it out with blows.
But what a man may execute, that all limbs will expose,
And all their strength to th’ utmost nerve (though now I lost some play
By some strange miracle) no more shall burn in vain the day
To any least beam. All this host, I’ll ransack, and have hope,
Of all not one again will scape, whoever gives such scope
To his adventure, and so near dares tempt my angry lance.”
Thus he excited. Hector then as much strives to advance
The hearts of his men, adding threats, affirming he would stand
In combat with Æacides: “Give fear,” said he, “no hand
Of your great hearts, brave Ilians, for Peleus’ talking son,
I’ll fight with any God with words; but when their spears put on,
The work runs high, their strength exceeds mortality so far,
And they may make works crown their words; which holds not in the war
Achilles makes; his hands have bounds; this word he shall make good,
And leave another to the field. His worst shall be withstood
With sole objection of myself; though in his hands he bear
A rage like fire, though fire itself his raging fingers were,
And burning steel flew in his strength.” Thus he incited his;
And they rais’d lances, and to work with mixéd courages;
And up flew Clamour. But the heat in Hector, Phœbus gave
This temper: “Do not meet,” said he, “in any single brave
The man thou threaten’st, but in press; and in thy strength impeach
His violence; for, far off, or near, his sword or dart will reach.”
The God’s voice made a difference in Hector’s own conceit
Betwixt his and Achilles’ words, and gave such over-weight
As weigh’d him back into his strength, and curb’d his flying out.
At all threw fierce Æacides, and gave a horrid shout.
The first, of all he put to dart, was fierce Iphition,
Surnam’d Otryntides, whom Nais the water-nymph made son
To town-destroy’r Otrynteüs. Beneath the snowy hill
Of Tmolus, in the wealthy town of Hyda, at his will
Were many able men at arms. He, rushing in, took full
Pelides’ lance in his head’s midst, that cleft in two his skull.
Achilles knew him one much fam’d, and thus insulted then:
“Th’ art dead, Otryntides, though call’d the terriblest of men.
Thy race runs at Gygæus’ lake, there thy inheritance lay,
Near fishy Hyllus and the gulfs of Hermus; but this day
Removes it to the fields of Troy.” Thus left he night to seize
His closéd eyes, his body laid in course of all the prease,
Which Grecian horse broke with the strakes nail’d to their chariot wheels.
Next, through the temples, the burst eyes his deadly jav’lin seels
Of great-in-Troy Antenor’s son, renown’d Demoleon,
A mighty turner of a field. His overthrow set gone
Hippodamas; who leap’d from horse, and, as he fled before
Æacides’s turnéd back, he made fell Pelias gore,
And forth he puff’d his flying soul. And as a tortur’d bull,
To Neptune brought for sacrifice, a troop of youngsters pull
Down to the earth, and drag him round about the hallow’d shore,
To please the wat’ry Deity with forcing him to roar,
And forth he pours his utmost throat; so bellow’d this slain friend
Of flying Ilion, with the breath that gave his being end.
Then rush’d he on, and in his eye had heav’nly Polydore,
Old Priam’s son, whom last of all his fruitful princess bore,
And for his youth, being dear to him, the king forbad to fight.
Yet (hot of unexperienc’d blood, to show how exquisite
He was of foot, for which of all the fifty sons he held
The special name) he flew before the first heat of the field,
Ev’n till he flew out breath and soul; which, through the back, the lance
Of swift Achilles put in air, and did his head advance
Out at his navel. On his knees the poor prince crying fell,
And gather’d with his tender hands his entrails, that did swell
Quite through the wide wound, till a cloud as black as death conceal’d
Their sight, and all the world from him. When Hector had beheld
His brother tumbled so to earth, his entrails still in hand,
Dark sorrow overcast his eyes; nor far off could he stand
A minute longer, but like fire he brake out of the throng,
Shook his long lance at Thetis’ son; and then came he along
To feed th’ encounter: “O,” said he, “here comes the man that most
Of all the world destroys my mind, the man by whom I lost
My dear Patroclus. Now not long the crooked paths of war
Can yield us any privy scapes. ‘Come, keep not off so far,’
He cried to Hector, ‘make the pain of thy sure death as short,
As one so desp’rate of his life hath reason.’” In no sort
This frighted Hector, who bore close, and said: “Æacides,
Leave threats for children. I have pow’r to thunder calumnies
As well as others, and well know thy strength superior far
To that my nerves hold; but the Gods, not nerves, determine war.
And yet, for nerves, there will be found a strength of pow’r in mine
To drive a lance home to thy life. My lance as well as thine
Hath point and sharpness, and ’tis this.” Thus brandishing his spear,
He set it flying; which a breath of Pallas back did bear
From Thetis’ son to Hector’s self, and at his feet it fell.
Achilles us’d no dart, but close flew in; and thought to deal
With no strokes but of sure dispatch, but, what with all his blood
He labour’d, Phœbus clear’d with ease, as being a God, and stood
For Hector’s guard, as Pallas did, Æacides, for thine.
He rapt him from him, and a cloud of much night cast between
His person and the point oppos’d. Achilles then exclaim’d:
“O see, yet more Gods are at work. Apollo’s hand hath fram’d,
Dog that thou art, thy rescue now; to whom go pay thy vows
Thy safety owes him, I shall vent in time those fatal blows
That yet beat in my heart on thine, if any God remain
My equal fautor. In mean time, my anger must maintain
His fire on other Ilians.” Then laid he at his feet
Great Demuchus, Philetor’s son; and Dryope did greet
With like encounter. Dardanus and strong Laogonus,
Wise Bias’ sons, he hurl’d from horse; of one victorious
With his close sword, the other’s life he conquer’d with his lance.
Then Tros, Alastor’s son, made in, and sought to scape their chance
With free submission. Down he fell, and pray’d about his knees
He would not kill him, but take ruth, as one that destinies
Made to that purpose, being a man born in the self same year
That he himself was. O poor fool, to sue to him to bear
A ruthful mind! He well might know, he could not fashion him
In ruth’s soft mould, he had no spirit to brook that interim
In his hot fury, he was none of these remorseful men,
Gentle and affable, but fierce at all times, and mad then.
He gladly would have made a pray’r, and still so hugg’d his knee
He could not quit him; till at last his sword was fain to free
His fetter’d knees, that made a vent for his white liver’s blood
That caus’d such pitiful affects; of which it pour’d a flood
About his bosom, which it fill’d, ev’n till it drown’d his eyes,
And all sense fail’d him. Forth then flew this prince of tragedies;
Who next stoop’d Mulius ev’n to death with his insatiate spear;
One ear it enter’d, and made good his pass to th’ other ear.
Echeclus then, Agenor’s son, he strook betwixt the brows;
Whose blood set fire upon his sword, that cool’d it till the throes
Of his then labouring brain let out his soul to fixéd fate,
And gave cold entry to black death. Deucalion then had state
In these men’s beings, where the nerves about the elbow knit,
Down to his hand his spear’s steel pierc’d, and brought such pain to it
As led death jointly; whom he saw before his fainting eyes,
And in his neck felt, with a stroke, laid on so, that off flies
His head. One of the twice-twelve bones, that all the backbone make,
Let out his marrow; when the head he, helm and all, did take,
And hurl’d amongst the Ilians; the body stretch’d on earth.
Rhigmus of fruitful Thrace next fell. He was the famous birth
Of Pireüs; his belly’s midst the lance took, whose stern force
Quite tumbled him from chariot. In turning back the horse,
Their guider Areithous receiv’d another lance
That threw him to his lord. No end was put to the mischance
Achilles enter’d. But as fire, fall’n in a flash from heav’n,
Inflames the high woods of dry hills, and with a storm is driv’n
Through all the sylvan deeps; and raves, till down goes ev’rywhere
The smother’d hill; so ev’ry way Achilles and his spear
Consum’d the champain, the black earth flow’d with the veins he tore.
And look how oxen, yok’d and driv’n about the circular floor
Of some fair barn, tread suddenly the thick sheaves thin of corn,
And all the corn consum’d with chaff; so mix’d and overborne,
Beneath Achilles’ one-hoof’d horse, shields, spears, and men, lay trod,
His axle-trees and chariot wheels, all spatter’d with the blood
Hurl’d from the steeds’ hooves and the strakes. Thus, to be magnified,
His most inaccessible hands in human blood he dyed.
THE END OF THE TWENTIETH BOOK.