But not as yet the fatal news had spread
To fair Andromache, of Hector dead;
As yet no meffenger had told his fate,
Nor ev'n his ftay without the Scaan gate,
Far in the clofe receffes of the dome,
Penfive the ply'd the melancholy loom;
A growing work employ'd her fecret hours; 570
Confus'dly gay with intermingled flowers.

505 Her fair-hair'd handmaids heat the brazen urn,
The bath preparing for her lord's return:

Scarce from the verge of death recall'd, again
She faints, er but recovers.to.complain.

O wretched husband of a wretched wife!
Born with one fate, to one unhappy life!
For fure one far its baneful beam difplay'd
On Priam's 1oof and Hippoplacia's fhrade.
From different parents, different, climes,

came,

While thofe his father's former bounty fed, Nor reach the goblet, nor divide the bread: 610] The kindest but his prefent wants allay,

we

615

620

At different periods, yet our fates the fame!
Why was my birth to great Action ow'd,
And why was all that tender care beftow'd?
Would I had never been!-0 thou, the ghoft
Of my dead hufband! miferably loft;
Thou, to the difinal realms for ever gone!
And I abandon'd, defolate, alone!
An only child, once comfort of my pains,
Sad product now of haplfs love, remains!
No more to fmile upon his fire, no friend
To help him now! no father to defend !
For fhould he 'fcape the fword, the common
doom,

To leave him wretched the fucceeding day.
Frugal compaffion! Heedlefs, they who boast 640
Both parents ftill, nor feel what he has loft,
Shall cry,, " Be gone! thy father feasts not here;"
The wretch obeys, retiring with a tear.
Thus wretched, thus retiring all in tears,
To my fad foul Aftyanax appears!

Forc'd by repeated infults to return,

645

And to his widow'd mother vainly mourn.
He, who, with tender delicacy bred;
With princes fported, and on dainties fed,
And when still evening gave him up to rest, 650
Sunk in foft down upon the nurse's breast,
Muftah what muft he-not?, Whom flioa calls
Aftyanax, from her well-guarded walls,
Is now that name no more, unhappy boy !,
Since now no more the father guards his Troy, 635
But thou, my Hector, lyft expos'd, in air,
Far from thy parents' and thy comfort's care,
Whofe hand in vain, directed by her love,
The martial fcarf and robe of triumph wove
Now to devouring flames be these a prey,
Ufeless to thee, from this accurfed day!
Yet let the facrifice at least be paid,

An honour to the living, not the ricad.

660

So fpake the mournful dame: her matrons hear, 635 Sigh back her fighs, and answer tear with tear. 76a

BOOK XXIII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Achilles and the Myrmilens do bonour to the body of Patroclar. After the funeral feaf, be retires to the fea-fbure, where, falling asleep, the ghost of his friend appears to him, and demands the right of burial; the next morning the foldiers are fent with mules and waggons to fetch wood for the pyre. The funeral proceffion, and the offering their bair to the dead. Achilles facrifices federal-animals, and laftly twelve Trojan captives, at the pile; then fets fire to it. He pays libations to the winds, which (at the infance of. Ivis) rife, and raife the flames. When the pile has burned all night, they gather the bones, place them in an urn of gold, and raife the tomb. Achilles inflitutes the funeral games: the chariot-race, the fight of the caftus, the wrefiling, the foot-race, the fingle combat, the difcus, the footing with arrows, the darting the javelin: the various defcrips tions of which, and the various fuccefs of the feveral antagonists, make the greatest part of the book., In this book ends the thirtieth day. The night following, the ghost of Patroclus appears to Achilles: the one and thirtieth day is employed in falling the timber for the pile; the two and thirtieth in burning it; and the three and thirtieth in the games. The feene is generally on the fea-fpore.

TH

Hus, humbled in the duft, the pensive train
Through the fad city mourn'd her hero flain.
The body foil'd with duft, and black with gore,
Lies on broad Hellefpont's refounding fhore:
The Grecians feek their fhips, and clear the ftrand,
All, but the martial Myrmidonian band;
Thefe yet affembled great Achilles holds,
And the ftern purpose of his mind unfolds:

Not yet, my brave companions of the war,
Releafe your fmoking courfers from the car;
But, with his chariot each in order led,
Perform duc honours to Patroclus dead,

Ere yet from reft or food we feek relief,
Some rites remain, to glut our rage of grief.

The troops obey'd; and thrice in order led 13
(Achilles first) their courfers round the dead;
And thrice their forrows and laments renew;
Tears bathe their arms, and tears the fands bedew.
For fuch a warrior Thetis aids their woe, [flow.20
Melts their ftrong hearts, and bids their eyes to
But chief, Pélides: thick-fucceeding fighs
10 Burst from his heart, and torrents from his eyes:
His flaughtering hands, yet red with blood, he laid
On his dead friend's cold breast, and thus he saida

All hail, Patroclus! let thy honour'd ghoft, 25 The vagrant dead around the dark abode,

Hear, and rejoice, on Pluto's dreary coaft;
Behold! Achilles' promife is complete;
The bloody Hector ftretch'd before thy feet.
Lo! to the dogs his carcafe I refign;
And twelve fad victims, of the Trojan line,
Sacred to vengeance, inftant, fhall expire;
Their lives effus'd around thy funeral pyre.
Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view)
Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw,

Forbid to crofs th' irremeable flood.

95

Now give thy hand; for to the farther shore When once we pafs, the foul returns no more: When once the last funereal flames afcend, 30 No more fhall meet Achilles and his friend; No more our thoughts to those we lov'd make known;

Or quit the dearcft, to converfe alone.

Me fate has fever'd from the fons of earth, [100

Prone on the dust. The Myrmidons around 35 The fate fore-doom'd that waited from my birth: Unbrac'd their armour, and the fteeds unbound,Thee too it waits; before the Trojan wall

All to Achilles' fable fhip repair,
Frequent and full, the genial feast to share.
Now from the well-fed fwine black smokes afpire,
The briftly victims hifling o'er the fire: 40
The huge ox bellowing falls; with feebler cries
Expires the goat; the fheep in filence dies.
Around the hero's proftrate body flow'd,
In one promifcuous fiream, the reeking blood.
And now a band of Argive monarchs brings
The glorious victor to the king of kings.
From his dead friend the penfive warrior went,
With steps unwilling, to the regal tent.
Th' attending heralds, as by office bound,
With kindled flames the tripod vafe furround; 50
To cleanfe his conquering hands from hoftile

gore,

45

55

[60

day,

[65

70

They urg'd in vain ; the chief refus'd, and fwore:
No drop fhall touch me, by almighty Jove!
The first and greatest of the Gods above!
Till on the pyre I place thee; till I rear
The graffy mound, and clip thy facred hair:
Some cafe at least thofe pious rites may give,
And foothe my forrows while I bear to live.
Howe'er, reluctant as I am, I ftay,
And share your scaft; but with the dawn of
(O king of men !) it claims thy royal care,
That Greece the warrior's funeral pile prepare,
And bid the forefts fall (fuch rites are paid
To heroes flumbering in eternal fhade).
Then, when his earthly part fhall mount in fire,
Let the leagued fquadrons to their posts retire.
He fpoke; they hear him, and the word obey;
The rage of hunger and the thirst allay,
Then cafe in fleep the labours of the day.
But great Pelides ftretch'd along the shore,
Where dafh'd on rocks the broken billows roar,
Lies inly groaning; while on either hand
The martial Myrmidons confus'dly stand.
Along the grais his languid members fall,
Tir'd with his chafe around the Trojan wall;
Hufh'd by the murmurs of the rolling deep,
At length he finks in the foft arms of fleep.
When, lo! the fhade, before his clofing eyes,
Of fad Patroclus rofe, or feem'd to rife;
In the fame robe he living wore, he came;
In ftature, voice, and pleafing look, the fame.
The form familiar hover'd o'er his head :
And fleeps Achilles (thus the phanton faid)
Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead?
Living, I feem'd his deareft, tenderest care,
But now forgot, I wander in the air.
Let my pale corpfe the rites of burial know,
And give me entrance in the realms below;
Till then the fpirit finds no refting place,

Ev'n great and godlike thou, art doom'd to fall.
Hear then; and as in fate and love we join,
Ah, fuffer that my bones may reft with thine!
Together have we liv'd; together bred,
One house receiv'd us, and one table fed;
That golden urn, thy Goddefs-mother gave,
May mix our afhes in one common grave.

105

And is it thou? (he answers) to my fight [110
Once more return'it thou from the realms of night?
Oh more than brother! Think each office paid,
Whate'er can reft a difcontented shade;
But grant one laft embrace, unhappy boy!
Afford at least that melancholy joy.

He faid, and with his longing arms effay'd 115
In vain to grafp the vifionary fhade;
Like a thin fmoke he fees the fpirit fly,
And hears a feeble, lamentable cry.
Confus'd he wakes; amazement breaks the
bands

Of golden fleep, and, ftarting from the fands, 120
Penfive he mufes with uplifted hands:

125

'Tis true, 'tis certain ; man, though dead, retains
Part of himself; th' immortal 'mind remains:
The form fubfifts without the body's aid,
Aerial femblance, and an empty shade!
This night my friend, fo late in battle loft,
9tood at my fide, a penfive, plaintive ghost;
Ev'n now familiar, as in life, he came,
Alas! how different! yet how like the fame ![139
Thus while he fpoke, each eye grew big with
And now the rofy-finger'd morn appears, [tears:
Shews every mournful face with tears o'erfpread,
And glares on the pale vifage of the dead.
But Agameninon, as the rites demand,
With mules and waggons fends a chofen band, 135
To load the timber, and the pile to rear;

A charge confign'd to Merion's faithful care.
With proper inftruments they take the road,
Axes to cut, and ropes to fling the load.

75 Firit march the heavy mules, fecurely flow, 140
O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks, they go:
Jumping, high o'er the fhrubs of the rough ground,
Rattle the clattering cars, and the fhock'd axles

bound.

85

brown;

Then, rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.
The wood the Grecians, cleave, prepar'd to burn;
And the flow mules the fame rough road return. 151
The sturdy woodmen equal burdens bore

But here and there th' unbody'd spectres chace, 90 Such charge was given them) to the fandy shore; VOL. VI.

Y

165

All mount their chariots, combatants and fquires.
The chariots first proceed, a fhining train;
Then clouds of foot that fimoke along the plain;
Next thefe a melancholy band appear,
Amidit, lay dead Patroclus on the bier :
O'er all the corpfe their scatter'd locks they throw;
Achilles next, oppreft with mighty woe,
Supporting with his hands the hero's head,
Bends o'er th' extended body of the dead.
Patroclus decent on th' appointed ground
They place, and heap the fylvan pile around,
But great Achilles ftands apart in prayer,
And from his head divides the yellow hair;
Thofe curling locks which from his you
vow'd,

170

All hail, Patroclus! let thy vengeful ghoft 220
Hear, and exult, on Pluto's dreary coait.
Beheid, Achilles' promife fully paid,
Twelve Trojan heroes offer'd to thy fhade;
But heavier fates on Hector's corpfe attend,
Sav'd from the flames for hungry dogs to rend. 225
So fpake he threatening: but the Gods made
vain

His threat, and guard inviolate the flain;
Celestial Venus hover'd o'er his head,

And rofeate unguents, heavenly fragrance! shed:
She watch'd him all the night, and all the day, 230
And drove the blood-hounds from their deftin'd

prey.

Nor facred Phoebus lefs employ'd his care;'
He pour'd around a veil of gather'd air,
And kept the nerves undry'd, the flesh entire,
Against the folar beam and Sirian fire.

Nor yet the pile where dead Patroclus lies,
Smokes, nor as yet the fullen flames arise;
he But faft befide, Achilles stood in prayer,
Invok'd the Gods, whofe fpirit moves the air,
And victims promis'd, and libations caft,
To gende Zephyr and the Boreal blast :
He call'd th' aërial Powers, along the fkies
To breathe and whisper to the fires to rife.
The winged Iris heard the hero's call,
And inftant haften'd to their airy hall,
Where, in old Zephyrs open courts on high,
Sat all the bluftering brethren of the sky.
She fhone amidst them, on her painted bow;
The rocky pavement glitter'd with the show.

And facred grew, to Sperchius' honour'd flood; 175
Then, fighing, to the deep his looks he caft,
And roll'd his eyes around the watery
waste:
Sperchius! whofe waves in mazy errors loft
Delightful roll along my native coaft!
To whom we vainly vow'd, at our return,
Thefe locks to fall, and hecatombs to burn:
Full fifty ramato bleed in facrifice,
Where to the day thy filver fountains rife,
And where in fhade of confecrated bower

180

Thy altars ftand, perfum'd with native flowers! 185 All from the banquet rife, and each invites

So vow'd my father, but he vow'd in vain ;
No more Achilles fees his native plain :
In that vain hope these hairs no longer grow,
Patroclus bears them to the fhades below.

190

195

235

240

245

250

(255

260

The various Goddefs to partake the rites:
Not fo (the dame reply'd) I hate to go
To facred Ocean, and the floods below:
Ev'n now our folemn hecatombs attend,
And Heaven is feasting on the world's green end,
With righteous Æthiops (uncorrupted train !)
Far on th' extremeft limits of the main.
But Peleus' fon intreats, with facrifice,
The Weltern Spirit, and the North, to rise;
Let on Patroclus' pile your blaft be driven,
And bear the blazing honours high to heaven.
Swift as the word fhe vanish'd from their view
Swift as the word the winds tumultuous Hew;
Forth burit the formy band with thundering roar,
200 And heaps on heaps the clouds are toft before. 265
To the wide main then trooping from the fkies,
The heaving deeps in watery mountains rife :
Troy feels the blaft along her shaking walls,
Till on the pile the gather'd tempelt falls.
The ftructure crackles in the roaring fires,
And all the night the pleureous flame afpires.
All night Achilles hails Patrocius' foul,
With large libations from the golden bowl.
As a poor father, helpless and undone,
Mourns o'er the afhes of an only fon,
Takes a fad pleasure the last bones to burn,
And pour in tears, ere yet they clofe the urn:
So flay'd Achilles, circling round the fhore,
So watch'd the flames, till now they flame no
[280
'Twas when, emerging through the shades of night,
The morning planet told th' approach of light;
high,And faft behind, Aurora's warmer ray

Thus o'er Patroclus while the hero pray'd,
On his cold hard the facred lock he laid,
Once more afresh the Grecian forrows flow:
And now the fun had fet upon their woe,
But to the king of men thus fpoke the chief:
Enough, Atrides! give the troops relief:
Permit the mourning legions to retire,
And let the chiefs alone attend the pyre;
The pious care be ours, the dead to burn-
He faid: the people to their fhips return;
While those deputed to inter the flain
Heap with a riling pyramid the plain.
A hundred foot in length, a hundred wide,
The growing fructure spreads on every fide;
High on the top the manly corpfe they lay,
And well-fed fheep and fable oxen flay:
Achilles cover'd with their fat the dead,
And the pil'd victims round the body spread;
Then jars of honey, and of fragrant oil,
Sufpends around, low-bending o'er the pile.
Four fprightly courfers, with a deadly grean, 210
Pour forth their lives, and on the pyre are thrown.
Of nine large dogs, domeflic at his board,
Fall two, felected to attend their lord,
Then last of all, and horrible to tell,
Sad facrifice! twelve I rojan captives fell.
On these the rage of fire victorious preys,
involves and joins them in one common blaze.
Smear'd with the bloody sites, he ftands on
And calls the spirit with a dreadful cry:

205

215

more.

Oe'r the broad ocean pour'd the golden day:

270

275

Then funk the blaze, the pile no longer burn'd,
And to their caves the whiftling winds return'd;285
Across the Thracian feas their course they bore;
The ruffled feas beneath their paffage roar.

Then parting from the pile he ceas'd to weep,
And funk to quiet in th' embrace of Leep,
Exhausted with his grief: mean while the crowd
Of thronging Grecians round Achilles ftood; 291
The tumult wak'd hini: from his eyes he fhook
Unwilling flumber, and the chiefs bespoke :

Ye kings and princes of th' Achaian name!
First let us quench the yet-remaining flame
With fable wine; then (as the rites direct)
The hero's bones with careful view fele&:
(Apart, and easy to be known, they lie
Amidst the heap, and obvious to the eye;
The rest around the margin will be feen
Promiscuous, fteeds and immolated men).
Thefe, wrapt in double cawls of fat, prepare;
And in the golden vafe difpofe with care;
There let them reft, with decent honour laid,
Till I fhall follow to th' infernal fhade.
Mean time ere& the tomb with pious hands,
A common ftructure on the humble fands;
Hereafter Greece fome nobler work may raise,
And late pofterity record our praife.

295

300

305

The Greeks obey; where yet' the embers) glow,

310

Wide o'er the pile the fable wine they throw,
And deep fubfides the ashy heap below.

Next, the white bones his fad companions place,
With tears collected in the golden vafe.
The facred relicks to the tent they bore;
The urn a veil of linen cover'd o'er.
That done, they bid the fepulchre aspire,
And caft the deep foundations round the pyre,
High in the midft they heap the fwelling bed
Of rifing earth, memorial of the dead.

The fwarming populace the chief detains,
And leads amidit a wide extent of plains;
There plac'd them round; then from the
proceeds

320

hips

Loft is Patroclus that wont to deck
Their flowing manes, and fleek their gloffy neck.
Sad, as they thar'd in human grief, they stand,
And trail thofe graceful honours on the fand;
Let others for the noble task prepare,
Who trust the courfer, and the flying car.

355

Fir'd at his word, the rival racers rife;
But far the first Eumelus hopes the prize,
Fam'd through Pieria for the fleetell breed,
And kill'd to manage the high-bounding steed,
With equal ardour bold Tydides swell'd,
The fleeds of Tros beneath his yoke compell'd 360
(Which late obey'd the Dardan chief's command,
When icarce a God redeem'd him from his hand).
Then Menelaus his Podargus brings,

And the fam'd courfer of the king of kings;
Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave) 365
To 'fcape the wars, to Agamemnon gave,
(the her name) at home to end his days,
Bale wealth preferring to eternal praife.

Next him Antilochus demands the courfe, [370
With beating heart, and cheers his Pylian horic.
Experienc'd Neftor gives his fon the reins,
Directs his judgment, and his heat restrains;
Nor idly warns the hoary fire, nor hears
The prudent fon with unattending ears:

My fon! though youthful ardour fire thy
breaft,
[bleft. 375
The Gods have lov'd thee, and with arts have
Neptune and Jove on thee conferr'd the skill,
Swift round the goal to turn the flying wheel.
To guide thy conduct, little precept needs;
But flow, and past their vigour, are my fleeds. 380
315
Fear not thy rivals, though for fwiftnefs known;
Compare thofe rivals' judgment, and thy own:
It is not ftrength, but art, obtains the prize,
[:35
And to be fwift is lefs than to be wife.
'Tis more by art, than force of numerous ftrokes,
The dextrous woodman fhapes the stubborn oaks;
By art the pilot, through the boiling deep-
And howling tempeft, iteers the feariefs thip;
And 'tis the artift wins the glorious course,
Not those who trust in chariots and in horfe. 3)
In vain; unskilful, to the goal they strive,
And short or wide, th' ungovern'd courfer drive?
While with fure kill, though with inferior &ced.,
The knowing racer to his end proceeds;
Fix'd on the goal, his eye fore-runs the course, 395
His hand unerring fteers the steady horfe,
And now contracts or now extends the rein,
Obferving ftill the foremoft on the plain.
Mark then the goal, 'tis eafy to be found;
Yon aged trunk, a cubit from the ground;
Of fome once-ftately oak the laft remains,
Or hardy fir, unperifh'd with the rains:
Inclos'd with ftones, confpicuous from afar;
And round, a circle for the wheeling car
(Some tomb, perhaps, of old, the dead to grace;
Or then, as now, the limit of a race);
Bear clofe to this, and warily proceed,
A little bending to the left-hand fteed:

325

A train of oxen, mules, and stately feeds,
Vafes and tripods (for the funeral games)
Refplendent brafs, and more refplendent dames.
First stood the prizes to reward the force
Of rapid racers in the dufty course:
A woman for the firfl, in beauty's bloom,
Skill'd in the needle, and the labouring loom; 330
And a large vafe, where two bright handles rile,
Of twenty measures its capacious size.
The fecond victor claims a mare unbroke,
Big with a mule, unknowing of the yoke:
The third, a charger yet untouch'd by flame; 335
Four ample meatures held the fhiting frame:
Two golden talents for the fourth were plac'd;
An ample double bowl contents the fast.
These in fair order rang'd upon the plain,
The hero, rifing, thus addreft the train:

340

Behold the prizes, valiant Greeks! decreed
To brave the rulers of the racing steed;
Prizes which none befide ourself could gain,
Should our immortal courfers take the plain
(A race unrivall'd, which from Ocean's God 345
Peleus receiv'd, and on his fon bestow'd.).
But this no time our vigour to display;
Nor fuit with them the games of this fad day:

4

[405

But urge the right, and give him all the reins :[410
While thy ftrict hand his fellow's head reftrains,
And turns him fhort; till, doubling as they roll,
The wheel's round naves appear to brush the goal
Yet (not to break the car, or lame the horse)
Clear of the ftony heap dire& the course:

Y 24