660

The Centaurs saw, enraged, the unhoped success; And, rushing on, in crowds, together press; At him, and him alone, their darts they threw : Repulsed they from his fated body flew. Amazed they stood; till Monychus began: O shame, a nation conquer'd by a man! A woman-man; yet more a man is he, Than all our race; and what he was, are we. Now, what avail our nerves? the united force, 665 Of two the strongest creatures, man and horse? Nor goddess-born, nor of Ixion's seed We seem; (a lover built for Juno' bed ;) Master'd by this half man. Whole mountains throw

Where southern storms had rooted up a tree; This, raised from earth, against the foe he threw ;

675

The example shown, his fellow-brutes pursue.
With forest-loads the warrior they invade;
Othrys and Pelion soon were void of shade;
And spreading groves were naked mountains
made.

Press'd with the burden, Cæneus pants for breath;
And on his shoulders bears the wooden death. 681
To heave the intolerable weight he tries;
At length it rose above bis mouth and eyes;
Yet still he heaves: and struggling with despair,
Shakes all aside, and gains a gulp of air:
A short relief, which but prolongs his pain;
He faints by fits; and then respires again :
At last, the burden only nods above,

685

690

695

As when an earthquake stirs the Idæan grove.
Doubtful his death: he suffocated seem'd
To most; but otherwise our Mopsus deem'd:
Who said he saw a yellow bird arise
From out the pile, and cleave the liquid skies:
I saw it too, with golden feathers bright,
Nor e'er before beheld so strange a sight.
Whom Mopsus viewing, as it soar'd around
Our troop, and heard the pinions' rattling sound,
All hail, he cried, thy country's grace and love;
Once first of men below, now first of birds above.
Its author to the story gave belief:
For us, our courage was increased by grief:
Ashamed to see a single man, pursued
With odds, to sink beneath a multitude:
We push'd the foe, and forced to shameful fight;
Part fell; and part escaped by favour of the night.
This tale, by Nestor told, did much displease 706
Tlepolemus, the seed of Hercules:

For, often he had heard his father say,

700

That he himself was present at the fray;
And more than shared the glories of the day. 710
Old Chronicle, he said, among the rest,
You might have named Alcides at the least:
Is he not worth your praise? The Pylian prince
Sigh'd ere he spoke; then made this proud defence.
My former woes, in long oblivion drown'd,

715

I would have lost; but you renew the wound:
Better to pass him o'er, than to relate
The cause I have your mighty sire to hate.
His fame has fill'd the world, and reach'd the sky;
(Which, oh, I wish, with truth, I could deny!) 720
We praise not Hector; though his name, we know,
Is great in arms; 'tis hard to praise a foe.

72

He, your great father, levell'd to the ground Messenia's towers: nor better fortune found Elis, and Pylus; that, a neighbouring state, And this, my own: both guiltless of their fate. To pass the rest, twelve, wanting one, he slew, My brethren, who their birth from Neleus drew. All youths of early promise, had they lived; By him they perish'd: I alone survived. The rest were easy conquest: but the fate Of Periclymenos is wondrous to relate. To him our common grandsire of the main Had given to change his form, and, changed, resume again.

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735

740

Varied at pleasure, every shape he tried;
And in all beasts Alcides still defied:
Vanquish'd on earth, at length he soar'd above;
Changed to the bird that bears the bolt of Jove:
The new dissembled eagle, now endued
With beak and pounces, Hercules pursued,
And cuff'd his manly cheeks, and tore his face;
Then, safe retired, and tower'd in empty space.
Alcides bore not long his flying foe:
But bending his inevitable bow,
Reach'd him in air, suspended as he stood;
And in his pinion fix'd the feather'd wood.
Light was the wound; but in the sinew hung
The point; and his disabled wing unstrung.
He wheel'd in air, and stretch'd his vans in
vain ;

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750

His vans no longer could his flight sustain :
For while one gather'd wind, one unsupplied
Hung drooping down; nor poised his other side.
He fell the shaft that slightly was impress'd,
Now from his heavy fall with weight increased,
Drove through his neck, aslant; he spurns the
ground,

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765

And the soul issues through the weazen's wound,
Now, brave commander of the Rhodian seas,
What praise is due from me to Hercules?
Silence is all the vengeance I decree
For my slain brothers; but 'tis peace with thee. 760
Thus with a flowing tongue old Nestor spoke:
Then to full bowls each other they provoke:
At length with weariness and wine oppress'd,
They rise from table, and withdraw to rest.
The sire of Cygnus, monarch of the main,
Meantime, laments his son in battle slain :
And vows the victor's death, nor vows in vain.
For nine long years the smother'd pain he bore;
(Achilles was not ripe for fate before :)
Then when he saw the promised hour was near,
He thus bespoke the god, that guides the year.
Immortal offspring of my brother Jove;
My brightest nephew, and whom best I love,
Whose hands were join'd with mine, to raise the
wall

770

Of tottering Troy, now nodding to her fall; 775 Dost thou not mourn our power employ'd in vain ;

And the defenders of our city slain?
To pass the rest, could noble Hector lie
Unpitied, dragg'd around his native Troy?
And yet the murderer lives: himself by far
A greater plague than all the wasteful war:
He lives; the proud Pelides lives, to boast
Our town destroy'd, our common labour lost!
Oh, could I meet him! But I wish too late,
To prove my trident is not in his fate.
But let him try (for that 's allow'd) thy dart,
And pierce his only penetrable part.

780

785

Apollo bows to the superior throne;
And to his uncle's anger adds his own.
Then, in a cloud involved, he takes his flight, 790
Where Greeks and Trojans mix'd in mortal fight;
And found out Paris, lurking where he stood,
And stain'd his arrows with plebeian blood:
Phoebus to him alone the god confess'd,

Then to the recreant knight he thus address'd: 795
Dost thou not blush, to spend thy shafts in vain
On a degenerate and ignoble train?
If fame, or better vengeance, be thy care,
There aim: and, with one arrow, end the war.

The lance and double axe of the fair warrior queen.

And now, the terror of the Trojan field,
The Grecian honour, ornament, and shield,
High on a pile, the unconquer'd chief is placed:
The god, that arm'd him first, consumed at last. 815
Of all the mighty man, the small remains
A little urn, and scarcely fill'd, contains.
Yet great in Homer, still Achilles lives;
And, equal to himself, himself survives.

His buckler owns its former lord; and brings
New cause of strife betwixt contending kings; 821
Who worthiest, after him, his sword to wield,
Or wear his armour, or sustain his shield.
Ev'n Diomede sat mute, with downcast eyes;
Conscious of wanted worth to win the prize: 825
Nor Menelaus presumed these arms to claim,
Nor he the king of men, a greater name.
Two rivals only rose: Läertes' son,
And the vast bulk of Ajax Telamon.
The king, who cherish'd each with equal love, 830
And from himself all envy would remove,
Left both to be determined by the laws;
And to the Grecian chiefs transferr'd the cause.

THE SPEECHES OF

AJAX AND ULYSSES.

FROM THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.*

THE chiefs were set, the soldiers crown'd the field:
To these the master of the seven-fold shield
Upstarted fierce and kindled with disdain,
Eager to speak, unable to contain

The Metamorphoses (as well as the Fasti of Ovid) have preserved, it must be owned, many curious particulars of ancient history, philosophy, and mythology. For Ovid was a great and learned antiquarian, which, from the levity and sportiveness of some of his poems, one would not

His boiling rage, he roll'd his eyes around
The shore, and Grecian galleys haled aground
Then stretching out his hands, O Jove, he cried,
Must then our cause before the fleet be tried!
And dares Ulysses for the prize contend,
In sight of what he durst not once defend?
But basely fled, that memorable day,
When I from Hector's hands redeem'd the flaming
prey.

So much 'tis safer at the noisy bar

With words to flourish, than engage in war.

19

By different methods we maintain'd our right, 13 Nor am I made to talk, nor he to fight.

In bloody fields I labour to be great;

His arms are a smooth tongue, and soft deceit.
Nor need I speak my deeds, for those you see;
The sun and day are witnesses for me.
Let him who fights unseen relate his own,
And vouch the silent stars, and conscious moon.
Great is the prize demanded, I confess,
But such an abject rival makes it less.
That gift, those honours, he but hoped to gain,
Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain :
Losing he wins, because his name will be
Ennobled by defeat, who durst contend with me.
Were mine own valour question'd, yet my blood
Without that plea would make my title good:
My sire was Telamon, whose arms, employ'd
With Hercules, these Trojan walls destroy'd;
And who before, with Jason, sent from Greece,
In the first ship brought home the golden fleece:
Great Telamon from Eacus derives

30

His birth (the inquisitor of guilty lives
In shades below; where Sisyphus, whose son
This thief is thought, rolls up the restless heavy
stone,)

Just Eacus the king of gods above
Begot thus Ajax is the third from Jove.
Nor should I seek advantage from my line,
Unless (Achilles) it were mix'd with thine:
As next of kin Achilles' arms I claim;
This fellow would ingraft a foreign name
Upon our stock, and the Sisyphian seed
By fraud and theft asserts his father's breed.
Then must I lose these arms, because I came
To fight uncall'd, a voluntary name?
Nor shunn'd the cause, but offer'd you my aid,
While he long lurking was to war betray'd:
Forced to the field he came, but in the rear;
And feign'd distraction to conceal his fear:
Till one more cunning caught him in the snare,
(Ill for himself) and dragg'd him into war.
Now let a hero's arms a coward vest,
And he, who shunn'd all honours, gain the best;
And let me stand excluded from my right,
Robb'd of my kinsman's arms, who first appear'd

in fight.

Better for us, at home he had remain'd,
Had it been true the madness which he feign'd,

30

suspect. An old French translator of Ovid, Thomas Vallois, called the Metamorphoses the Bible of the poets; his work was printed at Paris, in black letter, 1523. The Abbe Panier published a magnificent edition in 4to. 4 vols. 1767, with historical and mythological illustrations.-Benserade made a kind of travestie of Ovid in Rondeaux, printed in 4to. with beautiful sculptures. The Abbé Bellegarde translated at the same time Ovid's Metamorphoses, and the pious Thomas à Kempis. Perhaps he was ordered by his confessor to undertake the latter work as an act of penance; as Dryden was ordered by his confessor to write the Hind and Panther, as an expiation for having written the Spanish Friar. Dr. JOSEPH WARTON.

To find him food and clothing, must employ Against the birds the shafts due to the fate of Troy.

75

Yet still he lives, and lives from treason free,
Because he left Ulysses' company:
Poor Palamede might wish, so void of aid
Rather to have been left, than so to death
betray'd.

The coward bore the man immortal spite,
Who shamed him out of madness into fight:
Nor daring otherwise to vent his hate,
Accused him first of treason to the state;
And then, for proof, produced the golden store
Himself had hidden in his tent before:
Thus of two champions he deprived our host,
By exile one, aud one by treason lost.
Thus fights Ulysses, thus his fame extends,
A formidable man, but to his friends :

80

85

Great, for what greatness is in words and sound:
Even faithful Nestor less in both is found:

But that he might without a rival reign,
He left his faithful Nestor on the plain;
Forsook his friend ev'n at his utmost need,
Who tired and tardy, with his wounded steed,
Cried out for aid, and call'd him by his name;
But cowardice has neither ears nor shame:
Thus fled the good old man, bereft of aid,
And, for as much as lay in him, betray'd.
That this is not a fable forged by me,
Like one of his, an Ulyssean lie,

I vouch ev'n Diomede, who, though his friend,
Cannot that act excuse, much less defend :
He call'd him back aloud, and tax'd his fear;
And sure enough he heard, but durst not hear.
The gods with equal eyes on mortals look;
He justly was forsaken, who forsook :
Wanted that succour he refused to lend,
Found every fellow such another friend:
No wonder, if he roar'd that all might hear,
His elocution was increased by fear:

I heard, I ran, I found him out of breath,
Pale, trembling, and half dead with fear
death.

90

95

100

105

110

of

Hector came on, and brought the gods along; Fear seized alike the feeble and the strong: Each Greek was an Ulysses; such a dread Th'approach, and ev'n the sound, of Hector bred : Him, flesh'd with slaughter, and with conquest crown'd,

140

I met, and overturn'd him to the ground.
When after, matchless as he deem'd in might,
He challenged all our host to single fight,
All eyes were fix'd on me: the lots were thrown
But for your champion I was wish'd alone:
Your vows were heard, we fought, and neither
yield;

Yet I return'd unvanquish'd from the field.
With Jove to friend th' insulting Trojan came, 145
And menaced us with force, our fleet with flame:
Was it the strength of this tongue-valiant lord,
In that black hour, that saved you from the
sword;

Or was my breast exposed alone, to brave

155

A thousand swords, a thousand ships to save? 150
The hopes of your return! and can you yield,
For a saved fleet, less than a single shield?
Think it no boast, O Grecians, if I deem
These arms want Ajax, more than Ajax them;
Or, I with them an equal honour share;
They honour'd to be worn, and I to wear.
Will he compare my courage with his flight?
As well he may compare the day with night.
Night is indeed the province of his reign:
Yet all his dark exploits no more contain
Than a spy taken, and a sleeper slain;
A priest made prisoner, Pallas made a prey:
But none of all these actions done by day:

160

But why for Ithacus such arms as those,
Who naked and by night invades his foes?
The glittering helm by moonlight will proclaim
The latent robber, and prevent his game:
Nor could he hold his tottering head upright
Beneath that motion, or sustain the weight;
Nor that right arm could toss the beamy lance;175
Much less the left that ampler shield advance;
Ponderous with precious weight, and rough with

cost

Of the round world in rising gold emboss'd.
That orb would ill become his hand to wield,
And look as for the gold he stole the shield;
Which should your error on the wretch bestow,
It would not frighten, but allure the foe:
Why asks he what avails him not in fight,
And world but cumber and retard his flight,
In which his only excellence is placed?
You give him death, that intercept his haste.
Add, that his own is yet a maiden-shield,
Nor the least dint has suffer'd in the field,

Since from a champion's arms the strife arose,
So cast the glorious prize amid the foes;

Then send us to redeem both arms and shield, 195
And let him wear who wins 'em in the field.

He said: a murmur from the multitude,
Or somewhat like a stifled shout, ensued:
Till from his seat arose Laertes' son,

Look'd down awhile, and paused ere he begun;200
Then to the expecting audience raised his look,
And not without prepared attention spoke :
Soft was his tone, and sober was his face;
Action his words, and words his action grace.

If heaven, my lords, had heard our common

(At this he sigh'd, and wiped his eyes, and drew,

Or seem'd to draw, some drops of kindly dew,)
Who better can succeed Achilles lost,
Than he who gave Achilles to your host?
This only I request, that neither he
May gain, by being what he seems to be,
A stupid thing, nor I may lose the prize,
By having sense, which heaven to him denies :
Since, great or small, the talent I enjoy'd
Was ever in the common cause employ'd:
Nor let my wit, and wonted eloquence,
Which often has been used in your defence
And in my own, this only time be brought
To bear against myself, and deem'd a fault.
Make not a crime, where nature made it none;
For every man may freely use his own.
The deeds of long-descended ancestors
Are but by grace of imputation ours,
Theirs in effect: but since he draws his line
From Jove, and seems to plead a right divine;
From Jove, like him, I claim my pedigree,
And am descended in the same degree:
My sire Laertes was Arcesius' heir,
Arcesius was the son of Jupiter:

No parricide, no banish'd man, is known
In all my line: let him excuse his own.
Hermes ennobles too my mother's side,
By both my parents to the gods allied;
But not because that on the female part
My blood is better, dare I claim desert,
Or that my sire from parricide is free,
But judge by merit betwixt him and me:
The prize be to the best; provided yet,
That Ajax for a while his kin forget,
And his great sire, and greater uncle's name,
To fortify by them his feeble claim:
Be kindred and relation laid aside,

And honour's cause by laws of honour tried:
For, if he plead proximity of blood,
Tat empty title is with ease withstood.
Pole the hero's sire, more nigh than he,
us his undoubted progeny,
these trophies of the field;
to Phthia, send the shield.

215

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225

230

235

240

245

250

And Teucer has an uncle's right; yet he
Waves his pretensions, nor contends with me.

Then, since the cause on pure desert is placed,
Whence shall I take my rise, what reckon last!
I not presume on every act to dwell,
But take these few, in order as they fell.

Thetis, who knew the fates, applied her care To keep Achilles in disguise from war; And till the threatening influence were past, A woman's habit on the hero cast: All eyes were cozen'd by the borrow'd vest, And Ajax (never wiser than the rest) Found no Pelides there: at length I came With proffer'd wares to this pretended dame; She, not discover'd by her mien or voice, Betray'd her manhood by her manly choice; And while on female toys her fellows look, Grasp'd in her warlike hand, a javelin shook; Whom, by this act reveal'd, I thus bespoke: O goddess-born! resist not heaven's decree, The fall of Ilium is reserved for thee; Then seized him, and, produced in open light, Sent blushing to the field the fatal knight. Mine then are all his actions of the war; Great Telephus was conquer'd by my spear, And after cured: to me the Thebans owe, Lesbos and Tenedos, their overthrow; Scyros and Cylla: not on all to dwell, By me Lyrnesus and strong Chrysa fell: And since I sent the man who Hector slew, To me the noble Hector's death is due: Those arms I put into his living hand, Those arms, Pelides dead, I now demand.

When Greece was injured in the Spartan prince,
And met at Aulis to revenge the offence,
'Twas a dead calm, or adverse blasts, that reign'd
And in the port the wind-bound fleet detain'd:"
Bad signs were seen, and oracles severe
Were daily thunder'd in our general's ear:
That by his daughter's blood we must appease
Diana's kindled wrath, and free the seas.
Affection, interest, fame, his heart assail'd;
But soon the father o'er the king prevail'd
Bold, on himself he took the pious crime,
As angry with the gods, as they with him.
No subject could sustain their sovereign's look,
Till this hard enterprise I undertook:

I only durst th' imperial power control,
And undermined the parent in his soul;
Forced him to exert the king for common good,
And pay our ransom with his daughter's blood.
Never was cause more difficult to plead,
Than where the judge against himself decreed:
Yet this I won by dint of argument;
The wrongs his injured brother underwent,
And his own office, shamed him to consent.
'Twas harder yet to move the mother's mind,
And to this heavy task was I design'd:
Reasons against her love I knew were vain:
I circumvented whom I could not gain :
Had Ajax been employ'd, our slacken'd sails
Had still at Aulis waited happy gales.

Arrived at Troy, your choice was fix'd on me,
A fearless envoy, fit for a bold embassy:
Secure, I enter'd through the hostile court,
Glittering with steel, and crowded with resort:
There, in the midst of arms, I plead our cause,
Urge the foul rape, and violated laws;
Accuse the foes, as authors of the strife,
Reproach the ravisher, demand the wife.

296

300

310

315

351

355

From shameful flight, but wishes were in vain ;
As wanting of effect had been his words,
Such as of course his thundering tongue affords.
But did this boaster threaten, did he pray,
Or by his own example urge their stay?
None, none of these, but ran himself away.
I saw him run, and was ashamed to see;
Who plied his feet so fast to get aboard as he?
Then speeding through the place, I made a stand,
And loudly cried, O base degenerate band,
To leave a town already in your hand!
After so long expense of blood, for fame,
To bring home nothing but perpetual shame!
These words, or what I have forgotten since,
(For grief inspired me then with eloquence)
Reduced their minds; they leave the crowded
port,

360

365

371

And to their late forsaken camp resort;
Dismay'd the council met: this man was there,
But mute, and not recover'd of his fear!
Thersites tax'd the king, and loudly rail'd,
But his wide opening mouth with blows I seal'd.
Then, rising, I excite their souls to fame,
And kindle sleeping virtue into flame;
From thence, whatever he perform'd in fight
Is justly mine, who drew him back from flight.
Which of the Grecian chiefs consorts with
thee?

375

380

But Diomede desires my company,
And still communicates his praise with me.
As guided by a god, secure he goes,
Arm'd with my fellowship, amid the foes:
And sure no little merit I may boast,
Whom such a man selects from such an host;
Unforced by lots I went without affright,
To dare with him the dangers of the night:
On the same errand sent, we met the spy
Of Hector, double-tongued, and used to lie;
Him I despatch'd, but not till, undermined,
I drew him first to tell what treacherous Troy
design'd:

385

At this he bared his breast, and show'd his scars,

As of a furrow'd field, well plough'd with wars;
Nor is this part unexercised, said he ;

That giant bulk of his from wounds is free:
Safe in his shield, he fears no foe to try,
And better manages his blood than I:
But this avails me not; our boaster strove
Not with our foes alone, but partial Jove,
To save the fleet: this I confess is true,
(Nor will I take from any man his due);
But thus assuming all, he robs from you.
Some part of honour to your share will fall;
He did the best indeed, but did not all.
Patroclus in Achilles' arms, and thought
The chief he seem'd, with equal ardour fought;
Preserved the fleet, repell'd the raging fire,
And forced the fearful Trojans to retire.

410

415

420

425

430

But Ajax boasts that he was only thought A match for Hector, who the combat sought: Sure he forgets the king, the chiefs, and me; All were as eager for the fight as he; He but the ninth, and, not by public voice, Or ours preferr'd, was only fortune's choice: They fought; nor can our hero boast th' event, For Hector from the field unwounded went. Why am I forced to name that fatal day, That snatch'd the prop and pride of Greece away? I saw Pelides sink, with pious grief, And ran in vain, alas! to his relief;

For the brave soul was fled: full of my friend,

435

I rush'd amid the war, his relics to defend : 440

Nor ceased my toil till I redeem'd the prey,
And, loaded with Achilles, march'd away:
Those arms, which on these shoulders then I
bore,

'Tis just you to these shoulders should restore. You see I want not nerves, who could sustain 445 The ponderous ruins of so great a man:

Or if in others equal force you find,
None is endued with a more grateful mind.
Did Thetis then, ambitious in her care,
These arms thus labour'd for her son prepare,
That Ajax after him the heavenly gift should
wear?

450