תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Thick Storms of Steel from either Army fly, And Clouds of clashing Darts obfcure the Sky.

Thus equal Deaths are dealt with equal Chance,

Dryd. Virg.

By Turns they quit their Ground, by Turns advance;
Victors and Vanquish'd in the various Field,

Not wholly overcome, nor wholly yield:

Dryd. Virg.

The Gods from Heav'n furvey the fatal Strife,
And mourn the Miseries of human Life.
Now bearded Darts, and fatal Jav'lins fly,
And Balls of Fire hifs through th'enlighten'd Sky.
Each on his Foe missive Destruction pours,
And Death receives and gives in feather'd Show'rs.
To the rude Shock of War both Armies came,
Their Leaders equal and their Strength the fame:
With Spears afar, with Swords at Hand they strike;
And Zeal of Slaughter fires their Souls alike.
The Soldiers dauntless thus maintain the Field,
And Hearts are pierc'd, unknowing how to yield:
They Blow for Blow return, and Wound for Wound;
And Heaps of Bodies raife the level Ground.

And now both Hofts their broken Troops unite,

In equal Ranks, and mix in mortal Fight.

Blac.

Dryd. Virg.

They ftrike, they pufh, they throng the fcanty Space,
Refolv'd on Death, impatient of Disgrace;

And where one falls, another fills his Place.
An undiftinguifh'd Noife afcends the Sky,

Dryd. Virg.

(Dryd. Virg.

The Shouts of those who kill, and Groans of those who die.
The Fight grows hot, the whole War's now at work,
And the goar'd Battel bleeds in ev'ry Vein.

Shak. K. Lear.

When Greeks joyn'd Greeks, then was the Tug of War;
The labour'd Battel fwet, and Conqueft bled.

Now dying Groans are heard, the Fields are ftrew'd
With fallen Bodies, and are drunk with Blood.
Arms, Horfes, Men, on Heaps together lie:
Confus'd the Fight, and more confus'd the Cry.
The Sands with ftreaming Blood are fanguin dy'd,
And Death with Honour fought on ev'ry Side.

Lee Alix.

Dryd. Virg.

What Noife of Arms, what Shouts the Air confound!
What Ruin, what flain Heaps deform the Ground?
The Dead make Bulwarks, which the Living climb,
That in the Air rife, like our Walls, fublime.
Dead Corps imbofs the Vale with little Hills.
His finoaking Horfes at their utmoft Speed

He lashes on, and urges o'er the Dead:

Their Fetlocks run with Blood, and when they bound,
The Gore and gathering Duft are dash'd around.

Blac. Cowl.

Dryd. Virg.

The

The Rear fo prefs'd the Front, they could not wield The angry Weapons to difpute the Field.

They Darts with Clamour at a distance drive,
And only keep the languifh'd War alive.

The frighted Soldiers when their Captains fly,
More on their Speed than on their Strength rely.
Confus'd in Fight they bear each other down,
And fpur their Horfes headlong to the Town;
Driv'n by their Foes, and to their Fears refign'd,
Not once they turn, but take their Wounds behind.
Thefe drop the Shield, and thofe the Lance forego,
Or on their Shoulders bear the flacken'd Bow:
The Hoofs of Horfes, with a rattling Sound,
Beat thick and fhort, and shake the folid Ground.
Black Clouds of Duft come rouling in the Sky,
And o'er the darken'd Walls and Rampiers fly.
All preffing on, Purfuers and Purfu'd

Are crush'd in Crowds, a mingled Multitude,
Some happy few efcap'd: The Throng too late
Rush on for Entrance, till they choak the Gate.
Then in Affright the folding Gates they clofe,
But leave their Friends excluded with their Foes.
The Vanquish'd cry, the Victors loudly fhout,
'Tis Terrour all within, and Slaughter all without.
Blind in their Fear, they bound against the Wall;
Or to the Moats purfu'd precipitate their Fall.

Dryd. Virg.

Dryd. Virg.

Dryd. Virg.

Then planting at the Walls a fcaling Ladder,
I mounted fpight of Show'rs of Stones, Bars, Arrows,
And all the Lumber which they thunder'd down.
I left the Walls to fly among my Foes,

And, like a baited Lyon, dy'd my felf

All over with the Blood of those bold Hunters;

Till fpent with Toil, I battel'd on my Knees,

Pluck'd forth the Darts that made my Shield a Foreft,

And hurl'd them back with most unconquer'd Fury. Lee Alex,
Now Peals of Shouts came thund'ring from afar,

Cries, Threats, and loud Laments, and mingled War:
Louder, and yet more loud, we hear th'Alarms
Of human Cries diftinct, and clafhing Arms:
New Clamours and new Clangours now arife,
The Sound of Trumpets mix'd with fighting Cries.
The Fire confumes the Town, the Foe commands;
And armed Hofts, an unexperienc'd Force,
Break in, and Foes for Entrance prefs without.
To fev'ral Pofts their Parties they divide;

Some block the narrow Streets, fome fcour the wide:

The

The Bold they kill, th'Unwary they furprize;
Who fights finds Death, and Death finds him who flies.
The Warders of the Gate but scarce maintain
Th'unequal Combat, and refift in vain.

We heard: And Heav'n, that well-born Souls infpires,
Prompts us thro' lifted Swords and rifing Fires

To run, where clafhing Arms and Clamour calls,
And rufh undaunted to defend the Walls.
The paffive Gods behold the Greeks defile
Their Temples, and abandon to the Spoil
Their own Abodes; we, feeble few, confpire
To fave a finking Town involv'd in Fire.
We leave the narrow Lanes behind, and dare
Th'unequal Combat in the publick Square;
Night was our Friend, our Leader was Defpair.
What Tongue can tell the Slaughter of that Night?
What Eyes can weep the Sorrows and Affright?
An antient and imperial City falls;

The Streets are fill'd with frequent Funerals:
Houses and holy Temples float in Blood,
And hoftile Nations make a common Flood.
Not only Trojans fall, but in their Turn,
The Vanquish'd triumph, and the Victors mourn.
Ours take new Courage from Defpair and Night,
Confus'd the Fortune is, confus'd the Fight;
All Parts refound with Tumults, Plaints, and Fears,
And griefly Death in fundry Shapes appears :
New Clamours from th'invefted Palace ring;
So hot th'Affault, fo high the Tumult rofe,
While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppofe ;
As if all Ilium elfe were void of Fear,
And Tumult, War, and Slaughter only there.
Their Targets in a Tortoife caft, our Foes
Secure advancing, to the Turrets rofe:

Some mount the scaling Ladders, fome more bold
Swerve upwards, and by Pofts and Pillars hold:
Their left Hand gripes their Bucklers in th' Afcent,
While with the right they fieze the Battlement.
From their demolish'd Tow'rs the Trojans throw
Huge Heaps of Stones, that falling, crush the Foe,
And heavy Beams and Rafters, from the Sides,
And gilded Roofs come tumbling from on high,
The Marks of State and antient Royalty.
The Lightning flies not fwifter than the Fall,
Nor Thunder louder than the ruin'd Wall.
Down goes the Top at once; the Greeks beneath
Are piecemeal torn, or pounded into Death.

[merged small][ocr errors]

Yet more fucceed, and more to Death are fent :
We cease not from above, nor they below relent.
The Guards below, fix'd in the Pafs, attend
The Charge undaunted, and the Gate defend.

The Infantry

Rufh on in Crowds, and the barr'd Paffage free.
Ent'ring the Court, with Shouts the Skies they rend,
And flaming Firebrands to the Roofs afcend.
Pyrrhus, among the foremoft, deals his Blows,
And with his Ax repeated Strokes bestows
On the ftrong Doors: Then all their Shoulders ply,
Till from the Posts the brazen Hinges fly.
He hews apace, the double Bars at length
Yield to his Ax and unrefifted Strength.

A mighty Breach is made: The Rooms conceal'd
Appear, and all the Palace is reveal'd.
The fatal Work inhuman Pyrrhus plies,
And all his Father fparkles in his Eyes.

Nor Bars, nor fighting Guards his Force fuftain,
The Bars are broken, and the Guards are flain.
In rush the Greeks, and all th' Apartments fill;
Those few Defendants which they find, they kiH:
Where'er the rifing Fire had left a Space,
They enter and poffefs the Place.

The fearful Matrons run from Place to Place.
And kifs the Thresholds, and the Pofts-embrace.
Driv'n like a Flock of Doves along the Sky,
The Images they hug, and to the Altars fly.
But the protecting Gods are deaf to Pray'rs.

Dryd. Virg.

The wondring Babes from Mothers Breafts are rent,
And fuffer Ills they neither fear'd nor meant:
No filver Rev'rence guards the ftooping Age,
No Rule or Method ties their boundless Rage.
Nothing but Fire and Slaughter meets the Eyes,
Nothing the Ear but Groans and difmal Cries.

Now march the bold Confederates thro' the Plain,
Well hors'd, well clad, a rich and fhining Train.
Silent they move; majeftically flow,
Like ebbing Nile, or Ganges in his Flow.
The Trojons view the dufty Cloud from far,
And the dark Menace of the distant War.

They from the Rampire faw it rife,

Black'ning the Fields, and thick'ning thro' the Skies.
And when the rouling Clouds approach the Walls,
They arm, and man the Works, prepare the Spears,
And pointed Darts: Then fhut their Gates; with Shouts afcend
Their Bulwarks, and fecure, their Foes attend.

For

For their wife Gen'ral, with foreseeing Care,
Had charg'd them not to tempt the doubtful War:
Nor, tho' provok'd, in open Fields advance ;
But clofe within their Lines attend their Chance.
Unwilling, yet they keep the Ari& Command;
And fourly wait in Arms the hoftile Band:
The Foe then fac'd the Lines,

Amaz'd to find a daftard Race, that run
Behind the Rampires, and the Battel fhun.
All clad in fhining Arms the Works inveft:
Each with a radiant Helm, and waving Creft.
The Trojans from above their Foes beheld,

And with arm'd Legions all the Rampiers fill'd:
Siez'd with Affright, their Gates they firft explore:
Join Works to Works with Bridges; Tow'r to Tow'r.
The Soldiers draw their Lots, and as they fall,
By Turns relieve each other on the Wall.

The Volfians bear their Shields upon their Head,
And rushing forward, form a moving Shed;

These fill the Ditch, thofe pull the Bulwarks down ;
Some raise the Ladders, others fcale the Town.
But where void Spaces on the Walls appear,
Or thin Defence, they pour their Forces there.
With Poles and miffive Weapons, from afar,
The Trojans keep aloof the rifing War.

They roul down Ribs of Rocks, an unrefifted Weight,
To break the Penthouse with the pond'rous Blow:
Which yet the patient Volfians undergo.

But could not bear th'unequal Combat long;
For where the Trojans find the thickeft Throng,
The Ruin falls: Their fcatter'd Shields give way,·
And their crush'd Heads become an eafy Prey.
They fhrink for Fear, abated of their Rage,
Nor longer dare in a blind Fight engage.
Contented now to gaul them from below,
With Darts and Slings, and with the diftant Bow.
They blazing Pines within the Trenches threw,
Broke down the Palisades; the Trenches won,
And loud for Ladders call, to fcale the Town.
The Ditch with Faggots fill'd, the daring Foe
Tofs'd Firebrands to the fteepy Turrets throw.

There food a Tow'r, amazing to the Sight,
Built up of Beams, and of ftupendious Height 3
Art and the Nature of the Place, confpir'd
To furnish all the Strength that War requir'd.
To level this, the bold Italians joyn;
The wary Trojans obviate their Defign:

« הקודםהמשך »