Vulcanian arms, the labour of a God.’
Then turning to the Daughters of the Main, 175
The Goddess thus dismiss’d her azure train:
‘Ye sister Nereids! to your deeps descend;
Haste, and our father’s sacred seat attend;
I go to find the architect divine,
Where vast Olympus’ starry summits shine: 180
So tell our hoary Sire.’ This charge she gave:
The sea-green Sisters plunge beneath the wave:
Thetis once more ascends the blest abodes,
And treads the brazen threshold of the Gods.
And now the Greeks, from furious Hector’s force, 185
Urge to broad Hellespont their headlong course:
Nor yet their Chiefs Patroclus’ body bore
Safe thro’ the tempest, to the tented shore.
The horse, the foot, with equal fury join’d,
Pour’d on the rear, and thunder’d close behind; 190
And like a flame thro’ fields of ripen’d corn,
The rage of Hector o’er the ranks was borne.
Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew:
Thrice to the skies the Trojan clamours flew
As oft th’ Ajaces his assault sustain; 195
But check’d, he turns; repuls’d, attacks again.
With fiercer shouts his ling’ring troops he fires,
Nor yields a step, nor from his post retires:
So watchful shepherds strive to force, in vain,
The hungry lion from a carcass slain. 200
Ev’n yet, Patroclus had he borne away,
And all the glories of th’ extended day;
Had not high Juno, from the realms of air,
Secret despatch’d her trusty messenger,
The various Goddess of the Showery Bow, 205
Shot in a whirlwind to the shore below;
To great Achilles at his ships she came,
And thus began the Many-coloured Dame:
‘Rise, son of Peleus! rise, divinely brave!
Assist the combat, and Patroclus save: 210
For him the slaughter to the fleet they spread,
And fall with mutual wounds around the dead.
To drag him back to Troy the foe contends;
Nor with his death the rage of Hector ends;
A prey to dogs he dooms the corse to lie, 215
And marks the place to fix his head on high.
Rise, and prevent (if yet you think of fame)
Thy friend’s disgrace; thy own eternal shame!’
‘Who sends thee, Goddess! from th’ ethereal skies?’
Achilles thus: and Iris thus replies: 220
‘I come, Pelides, from the Queen of Jove,
Th’ immortal Empress of the realms above:
Unknown to him who sits remote on high,
Unknown to all the Synod of the Sky.’
‘Thou com’st in vain,’ he cries (with fury warm’d), 225
‘Arms I have none, and can I fight unarm’d?
Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,
Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of day
Vulcanian arms: what other can I wield,
Except the mighty Telamonian shield 230
That, in my friend’s defence, has Ajax spread,
While his strong lance around him heaps the dead:
The gallant Chief defends Menœtius’ son,
And does what his Achilles should have done.’
‘Thy want of arms’ (said Iris) ‘well we know; 235
But, tho’ unarm’d, yet, clad in terrors, go!
Let but Achilles o’er yon trench appear,
Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;
Greece from one glance of that tremendous eye
Shall take new courage, and disdain to fly.’ 240
She spoke, and pass’d in air. The hero rose:
Her ægis Pallas o’er his shoulder throws:
Around his brows a golden cloud she spread;
A stream of glory flamed above his head.
As when from some beleaguer’d town arise 245
The smokes, high curling to the shaded skies
(Seen from some island, o’er the main afar,
When men distress’d hang out the sign of war):
Soon as the sun in ocean hides his rays,
Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze; 250
With long-projected beams the seas are bright,
And Heav’n’s high arch reflects the ruddy light:
So from Achilles’ head the splendours rise,
Reflecting blaze on blaze, against the skies.
Forth march’d the Chief, and, distant from the crowd, 255
High on the rampart rais’d his voice aloud;
With her own shout Minerva swells the sound;
Troy starts astonish’d, and the shores rebound.
As the loud trumpet’s brazen mouth from far
With shrilling clangour sounds th’ alarm of war, 260
Struck from the walls, the echoes float on high,
And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply;
So high his brazen voice the hero rear’d:
Hosts dropt their arms, and trembled as they heard;
And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound, 265
And steeds and men lie mingled on the ground.
Aghast they see the living lightnings play,
And turn their eye-balls from the flashing ray.
Thrice from the trench his dreadful voice he raised:
And thrice they fled, confounded and amazed. 270
Twelve in the tumult wedg’d, untimely rush’d
On their own spears, by their own chariots crush’d;
While, shielded from the darts, the Greeks obtain
The long-contended carcass of the slain.
A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears: 275
Around, his sad companions melt in tears.
But chief Achilles, bending down his head,
Pours unavailing sorrows o’er the dead,
Whom late, triumphant with his steeds and car,
He sent refulgent to the Field of War 280
(Unhappy change!): now senseless, pale, he found,
Stretch’d forth, and gash’d with many a gaping wound.
Meantime, unwearied with his heav’nly way,
In ocean’s waves th’ unwilling light of day
Quench’d his red orb, at Juno’s high command, 285
And from their labours eas’d th’ Achaian band.
The frighted Trojans (panting from the war,
Their steeds unharness’d from the weary car)
A sudden council call’d: each Chief appear’d
In haste, and standing; for to sit they fear’d. 290
‘T was now no season for prolong’d debate;
They saw Achilles, and in him their fate.
Silent they stood: Polydamas at last,
Skill’d to discern the future by the past,
The son of Panthus, thus express’d his fears 295
(The friend of Hector, and of equal years:
The self-same night to both a being gave,
One wise in council, one in action brave):
‘In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak:
For me, I move, before the morning break, 300
To raise our camp: too dangerous here our post,
Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast.
I deem’d not Greece so dreadful, while engaged
In mutual feuds her King and Hero raged;
Then, while we hoped our armies might prevail, 305
We boldly camp’d beside a thousand sail.
I dread Pelides now: his rage of mind
Not long continues to the shores confin’d,
Nor to the fields, where long in equal fray
Contending nations won and lost the day; 310
For Troy, for Troy, sha
ll henceforth be the strife,
And the hard contest, not for Fame, but Life.
Haste then to Ilion, while the fav’ring night
Detains those terrors, keeps that arm from fight;
If but the morrow’s sun behold us here, 315
That arm, those terrors, we shall feel, not fear;
And hearts that now disdain, shall leap with joy,
If Heav’n permits them then to enter Troy.
Let not my fatal prophecy be true,
Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue. 320
Whatever be our fate, yet let us try
What force of thought and reason can supply;
Let us on council for our guard depend;
The town, her gates and bulwarks shall defend.
When morning dawns, our well-appointed powers, 325
Array’d in arms, shall line the lofty towers.
Let the fierce hero then, when fury calls,
Vent his mad vengeance on our rocky walls,
Or fetch a thousand circles round the plain,
Till his spent coursers seek the fleet again: 330
So may his rage be tired, and labour’d down;
And dogs shall tear him ere he sack the town.’
‘Return?’ (said Hector, fired with stern disdain),
‘What! coop whole armies in our walls again?
Was ‘t not enough, ye valiant warriors say, 335
Nine years imprison’d in those towers ye lay?
Wide o’er the world was Ilion famed of old
For brass exhaustless, and for mines of gold;
But while inglorious in her walls we stay’d,
Sunk were her treasures, and her stores decay’d; 340
The Phrygians now her scatter’d spoils enjoy,
And proud Mæonia wastes the fruits of Troy.
Great Jove at length my arms to conquest calls,
And shuts the Grecians in their wooden walls:
Darest thou dispirit whom the Gods incite? 345
Flies any Trojan? I shall stop his flight.
To better counsel then attention lend;
Take due refreshment, and the watch attend.
If there be one whose riches cost him care,
Forth let him bring them for the troops to share; 350
‘T is better gen’rously bestow’d on those,
Than left the plunder of our country’s foes.
Soon as the morn the purple orient warms,
Fierce on yon navy will we pour our arms.
If great Achilles rise in all his might, 355
His be the danger: I shall stand the fight.
Honour, ye Gods! or let me gain, or give;
And live he glorious, whosoe’er shall live!
Mars is our common Lord, alike to all:
And oft the victor triumphs, but to fall.’ 360
The shouting host in loud applauses join’d:
So Pallas robb’d the many of their mind;
To their own sense condemn’d, and left to choose
The worst advice, the better to refuse.
While the long night extends her sable reign, 365
Around Patroclus mourn’d the Grecian train.
Stern in superior grief Pelides stood;
Those slaught’ring arms, so used to bathe in blood,
Now clasp his clay-cold limbs: then, gushing, start
The tears, and sighs burst from his swelling heart. 370
The lion thus, with dreadful anguish stung,
Roars thro’ the desert, and demands his young;
When the grim savage, to his rifled den
Too late returning, snuffs the track of men,
And o’er the vales and o’er the forest bounds; 375
His clam’rous grief the bell’wing wood resounds.
So grieves Achilles; and impetuous vents
To all his Myrmidons, his loud laments:
‘In what vain promise, Gods! did I engage,
When, to console Menœtius’ feeble age, 380
I vow’d his much-lov’d offspring to restore,
Charged with rich spoils, to fair Opuntia’s shore?
But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain,
The long, long views of poor designing man!
One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike, 385
And Troy’s black sands must drink our blood alike:
Me, too, a wretched mother shall deplore,
An aged father never see me more!
Yet, my Patroclus! yet a space I stay,
Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way. 390
Ere thy dear relics in the grave are laid,
Shall Hector’s head be offer’d to thy shade:
That, with his arms, shall hang before thy shrine;
And twelve, the noblest of the Trojan line,
Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire, 395
Their lives effused around thy flaming pyre.
Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely press’d,
Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast!
While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay,
Weep all the night, and murmur all the day, 400
Spoils of my arms, and thine; when, wasting wide,
Our swords kept time, and conquer’d side by side.’
He spoke, and bid the sad attendants round
Cleanse the pale corse, and wash each honour’d wound.
A massy cauldron of stupendous frame 405
They brought, and placed it o’er the rising flame;
Then heap the lighted wood; the flame divides
Beneath the vase, and climbs around the sides.
In its wide womb they pour the rushing stream;
The boiling water bubbles to the brim. 410
The body then they bathe with pious toil,
Embalm the wounds, anoint the limbs with oil;
High on a bed of state extended laid,
And decent cover’d with a linen shade;
Last o’er the dead the milk-white veil they threw; 415
That done, their sorrows and their sighs renew.
Meanwhile to Juno, in the realms above
(His wife and sister) spoke almighty Jove:
‘At last thy will prevails: great Peleus’ son
Rises in arms: such grace thy Greeks have won. 420
Say (for I know not), is their race divine,
And thou the mother of that martial line?’
‘What words are these?’ (th’ Imperial Dame replies,
While anger flash’d from her majestic eyes);
‘Succour like this a mortal arm might lend, 425
And such success mere human wit attend:
And shall not I, the second Power above,
Heav’n’s Queen, and Consort of the thund’ring Jove,
Say, shall not I one nation’s fate command,
Not wreak my vengeance on one guilty land?’ 430
So they. Meanwhile the Silver-footed Dame
Reach’d the Vulcanian dome, eternal frame!
High-eminent amid the works divine,
Where Heav’n’s far-beaming brazen mansions shine.
There the lame architect the Goddess found, 435
Obscure in smoke, his forges flaming round,
While bathed in sweat from fire to fire he flew,
And, puffing loud, the roaring bellows blew.
That day no common task his labour claim’d:
Full twenty tripods for his hall he framed, 440
That, placed on living wheels of massy gold
(Wondrous to tell)! instinct with spirit roll’d
From place to place, around the blest abodes,
Self-mov’d, obedient to the beck of Gods:
For their fair handles now, o’erwrought with flowers, 445
In moulds prepared, the glowing ore he pours.
Just as, responsive to his thought, the frame
Stood prompt to move, the azure Godde
ss came:
Charis, his spouse, a Grace divinely fair
(With purple fillets round her braided hair), 450
Observ’d her ent’ring; her soft hand she press’d,
And, smiling, thus the wat’ry Queen address’d:
‘What, Goddess! this unusual favour draws?
All hail, and welcome! whatsoe’er the cause:
Till now a stranger, in a happy hour 455
Approach, and taste the dainties of the bower.’
High on a throne, with stars of silver graced,
And various artifice, the Queen she placed;
A footstool at her feet: then, calling, said,
‘Vulcan, draw near, ‘t is Thetis asks your aid.’ 460
‘Thetis’ (replied the God) ‘our powers may claim,
An ever-dear, an ever-honour’d name!
When my proud mother hurl’d me from the sky
(My awkward form, it seems, displeas’d her eye),
She, and Eurynome, my griefs redress’d, 465
And soft receiv’d me on their silver breast.
Ev’n then, these arts employ’d my infant thought;
Chains, bracelets, pendants, all their toys I wrought.
Nine years kept secret in the dark abode,
Secure I lay, conceal’d from man and God: 470
Deep in a cavern’d rock my days were led;
The rushing ocean murmur’d o’er my head.
Now since her presence glads our mansion, say,
For such desert what service can I pay?
Vouchsafe, O Thetis! at our board to share 475
The genial rites, and hospitable fare;
While I the labours of the forge forego,
And bid the roaring bellows cease to blow.’
Then from his anvil the lame artist rose;
Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes, 480
And stills the bellows, and (in order laid)
Locks in their chests his instruments of trade:
Then with a sponge the sooty workman dress’d
His brawny arms imbrown’d, and hairy breast.
With his huge sceptre graced, and red attire, 485
Came halting forth the Sov’reign of the Fire:
The Monarch’s steps two female forms uphold,
That mov’d, and breathed, in animated gold;
To whom was voice, and sense, and science giv’n
Of works divine (such wonders are in Heav’n!): 490
On these supported, with unequal gait,
He reach’d the throne where pensive Thetis sat;
There placed beside her on the shining frame,
He thus address’d the Silver-footed Dame:
‘Thee, welcome Goddess! what occasion calls 495
(So long a stranger) to these honour’d walls?
‘T is thine, fair Thetis, the command to lay,
And Vulcan’s joy and duty to obey.’
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 107