Then, not before, I felt my
Congeal with fear, my hair with horror ftood: 765
My father's image fill'd my pious mind,
Left equal years might equal fortune find.
Again I thought on my forfaken wife,
And trembled for my fon's abandon'd life.
I look'd about, but found myself alone,
Deferted at my need, my friends were gone.
Some spent with toil, fome with despair oppress'd,
Leap'd headlong from the heights; the flames confum'd
Thus, wandering in my way, without a guide,
The graceless Helen in the porch I spy'd
Of Vesta's temple; there fhe lurk'd alone;
Muffled the fate, and, what fhe could, unknown:
But, by the flames, that cast their blaze around,
That common bane of Greece and Troy, I found.
For Ilium burnt, fhe dreads the Trojan's sword;
More dreads the vengeance of her injur❜d lord;
Ev'n by thofe gods, who refug'd her, abhorr'd.
Trembling with rage, the ftrumpet I regard;
Refolv'd to give her guilt the due reward.
Shall the triumphant fail before the wind,
And leave in flames unhappy Troy behind?
Shall the her kingdom and her friends review,
In ftate attended with a captive crew;
While unreveng'd the good old Priam falls,
And Grecian fires confume the Trojan walls?
For this the Phrygian fields and Xanthian flood
Were fwell'd with bodies, and were drunk with blood!
'Tis true, a foldier can small honour gain,
And boast no conquest from a woman slain;
Yet shall the fact not pass without applause,
Of vengeance taken in so just a caufe.
The punish'd crime shall fet my
And murmuring manes of my friends appease.
Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasant light
Spread o'er the place, and, fhining heavenly bright,
My mother food reveal'd before my fight.
Never fo radiant did her eyes appear;
Nor her own ftar confefs'd a light fo clear.
Great in her charms, as when the gods above
She looks, and breathes herself into their love.
She held my hand, the destin’d blow to break :
Then, from her rofy lips, began to speak :
My fon, from whence this madness, this neglect
Of my commands, and those whom I protect?
Why this unmanly rage? recal to mind
Whom you forfake, what pledges leave behind.
Look if your hapless father yet furvive;
Or if Afcanius, or Creüfa, live.
Around your house the greedy Grecians err;
And these had perish'd in the nightly war,
But for my prefence and protecting care.
Not Helen's face, nor Paris, was in fault :
But by the gods was this destruction brought.
Now caft your eyes around; while I diffolve
The mifts and films that mortal eyes involve:
Purge from your fight the drofs, and make
The fhape of each avenging deity.
Enlighten'd thus, my just commands fulfil :
Nor fear obedience to your mother's will.
Where yon diforder'd heap of ruin lies,
Stones rent from stones, where clouds of duft arise,
Amid that fmother, Neptune holds his place:
Below the wall's foundation drives his mace:
And heaves the building from the folid base.
Look where, in arms, imperial Juno stands,
Full in the Scæan gate, with loud commands,
Urging on fhore the tardy Grecian bands.
See Pallas, of her fnaky buckler proud,
Beftrides the tower, refulgent through the cloud:
See Jove new courage to the foe fupplies,
And arms against the town the partial deities.
Hafte hence, my fon; this fruitlefs labour end:
Hafte where your trembling spouse and fire attend:
Hafte, and a mother's care your paffage shall befriend.
She faid and fwiftly vanifh'd from my fight,
Obfcure in clouds, and gloomy shades of night.
I look'd, I liften'd; dreadful founds I hear;
And the dire forms of hoftile gods appear.
Troy funk in flames I faw, nor could prevent;
And Ilium from its old foundations rent.
Rent like a mountain ash, which dar'd the winds;
And stood the sturdy strokes of labouring hinds :
About the roots the cruel ax refounds,
The ftumps are pierc'd with oft-repeated wounds.
The war is felt on high, the nodding crown
Now threats a fall, and throws the leafy honours down.
To their united force it yields, though late;
And mourns, with mortal groans, th' ap proaching fate: The roots no more their upper load sustain ;
But down the falls, and fpreads a ruin through the plain.
Defcending thence, I 'fcape through foes, and fire:
Before the goddess, foes and flames retire.
Arriv'd at home, he for whofe only fake,
Or moft for his, fuch toils I undertake,
The good Anchifes, whom, by timely flight,
I purpos'd to fecure on Ida's height,
Refus'd the journey; refolute to die,
And add his funerals to the fate of Troy :
Rather than exile and old age fuftain.
Go
you, whofe blood runs warm in every
Had heaven decreed that I fhould life enjoy,
Heaven had decreed to fave unhappy Troy.
'Tis fure enough, if not too much for one,
Twice to have feen our Ilium overthrown.
Make hafte to fave the poor remaining crew;
And give this useless corpse a long adieu.
Thefe weak old hands fuffice to stop my breath:
At leaft the pitying foes will aid my death,
To take my fpoils and leave my body bare:
As for my fepulchre let heaven take care.
'Tis long fince I, for my celestial wife,
Loath'd by the gods, have dragg'd a lingering life :
Since every hour and moment I expire,
Blafted from heaven by Jove's avenging fire.
This oft repeated, he stood fix'd to die :
Myfelf, my wife, my fon, my family,
Intreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry.
What, will he still perfift, on death resolve,
And in his ruin all his house involve?
He ftill perfifts his reasons to maintain ;
Our prayers, our tears, our loud laments, are vain.
Urg'd by defpair, again I go to try
The fate of arms, refolv'd in fight to die.
What hope remains, but what my death must give? Can I without fo dear a father live?
You term it prudence, what I baseness call:
Could such a word from such a parent fall?
If fortune please, and so the gods ordain,
That nothing should of ruin'd Troy remain;
And you confpire with fortune, to be flain;
The way to death is wide, th' approaches near:
For foon relentless Pyrrhus will appear,
Reeking with Priam's blood: the wretch who flew
The fon (inhuman) in the father's view,
And then the fire himself to the dire altar drew.
O goddess-mother, give me back to fate;
Your gift was undefir'd, and came too late.
Did you for this, unhappy me convey
Through foes and fires to see my house a prey?
Shall I, my father, wife, and fon, behold
Weltering in blood, each other's arms infold?
Hafte gird my fword, though spent and overcome :
'Tis the laft fummons to receive your doom.
I hear thee, fate, and I obey thy call:
Not unreveng'd the foe fhall fee my fall.
Reftore me yet to the unfinish'd fight:
My death is wanting to conclude the night.
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