Part 73 (1/2)
O send host to Pluto's dreary dome!”
He said, and feebly drives his friends away: The sorrowing friends his frantic rage obey
Next on his sons his erring fury falls, Polites, Paris, Agathon, he calls; His threats Deiphobus and Dius hear, Hippothous, Paenerous Antiphon: for yet these nine Survived, sad relics of his nulorious sons of an unhappy sire!
Why did not all in Hector's cause expire?
Wretch that I arace of Priam's house, remain!
Mestor the brave, renown'd in ranks of war, With Troilus, dreadful on his rushi+ng car,(293) And last great Hector, more than man divine, For sure he seem'd not of terrestrial line!
All those relentless Mars untimely slew, And left me these, a soft and servile crew, Whose days the feast and wanton dance employ, Gluttons and flatterers, the contempt of Troy!
Why teach ye not my rapid wheels to run, And speed my journey to redeee revere, Forgive his anger, and produce the car
High on the seat the cabinet they bind: The new-made car with solid beauty shi+ned; Box was the yoke, elets to receive the reins; Nine cubits long, the traces swept the ground: These to the chariot's polish'd pole they bound
Then fix'd a ring the running reins to guide, And close beneath the gather'd ends were tied
Next with the gifts (the price of Hector slain) The sad attendants load the groaning wain: Last to the yoke the well-ift of Mysia to the Trojan king) But the fair horses, long his darling care, Himself received, and harness'd to his car: Grieved as he was, he not this task denied; The hoary herald help'd hientle coursers join'd, Sad Hecuba approach'd with anxious rant wine, (Libation destined to the power divine,) Held in her right, before the steed she stands, And thus consigns it to the monarch's hands:
”Take this, and pour to Jove; that safe frorace restore thee to our roof and ar n; Pray to that God, who high on Ida's brow Surveys thy desolated realh, And lead thy ith heavenly augury: Let the strong sovereign of the pluht of yon ethereal space
That sign beheld, and strengthen'd from above, Boldly pursue the journey ury denies, Suppress thy impulse, nor reject advice”
”'Tis just (said Priaood as Jove?”
He spoke, and bade the attendant hand: (Her ready hands the ewer and bason held:) Then took the golden cup his queen had fill'd; On the mid pavement pours the rosy wine, Uplifts his eyes, and calls the power divine:
”O first and greatest! heaven's imperial lord!
On lofty Ida's holy hill adored!
To stern Achilles now direct my ways, And teach him mercy when a father prays
If such thy will, despatch froury!
Let the strong sovereign of the pluht of yon ethereal space; So shall thy suppliant, strengthen'd from above, Fearless pursue the journey mark'd by Jove”
Jove heard his prayer, and froury!
The sing'd chaser of the feather'd game, And known to Gods by Percnos' lofty naate display'd
So broad, his pinions stretch'd their as The is
A dawn of joy in every face appears: Thematron dries her ti; The brazen portal in his passage rung; The ifts: Idaeus holds the rein: The king hi friends the chariot rolls
On his sloheels the following people wait, Mourn at each step, and give him up to fate; With hands uplifted eye hiazed their last
Noard fares the father on his way, Through the lone fields, and back to Ilion they
Great Jove beheld him as he cross'd the plain, And felt the woes of miserable man
Then thus to Hermes: ”Thou whose constant cares Still succour mortals, and attend their prayers; Behold an object to thy charge consign'd: If ever pity touch'd thee forfoe prevent, And safe conduct hiolden pinions binds,(294) And h fields of air, his flight sustain, O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless rasps the wand that causes sleep to fly, Or in soft slumbers seals the wakeful eye: Thus arm'd, swift Hermes steers his airy way, And stoops on hellespont's resounding sea
A beauteous youth,of so face of day, And clad the dusky fields in sober grey; What ti at the silver spring, That circling Ilus' ancient marble flows) Allow'd their h the dim shade the herald first espies A man's approach, and thus to Pria! beware; This hard adventure claims thy uth: Our state asks counsel; is it best to fly?
Or old and helpless, at his feet to fall, Tretched suppliants, and for mercy call?”
The afflicted rew his face, and upright stood his hair; Sunk was his heart; his colour went and careeting, touch'd his royal hand, And, gentle, thus accosts with kind deht Is seal'd in sleep, thou wanderest through the night?