Thus Afius fteeds (their mighty master gone)
Remain the prize of Neftor's youthful fon.
Stabb'd at the fight, Deïphobus drew nigh, And made, with force, the vengeful weapon fly. 510 The Cretan faw; and, ftooping, caus'd to glance From his flope fhield, the disappointed lance. Beneath the fpacious targe (a blazing round, Thick with bull-hides and brazen orbits bound, On his rais'd arm by two ftrong braces ftay'd) He lay collected in defenfive fhade; O'er his fafe head the javelin idly fung, And on the tinkling verge more faintly rung. Ev'n then, the fpear the vigorous arm confeft, And pierc'd, obliquely, king Hypfenor's breaft: 520 Warm'd in his liver, to the ground it bore The chief, his people's guardian now no more! Not unattended (the proud Trojan cries)
Nor unreveng'd, lamented Afius lies:
For thee though hell's black portals stand difplay'd,
This mate fhall joy thy melancholy fhade.
Heart-piercing anguish, at the haughty boast,
Touch'd every Greek, but Neftor's fon the moft.
Griev'd as he was, his pious arms attend,
And his broad buckler fhields his flaughter'd friend ; Till fad Meciftheus and Alaftor bore
His honour'd body to the tented fhore.
Nor yet from fight Idomeneus withdraws ;
Refolv'd to perifh in his country's caufe,
Or find fome foe, whom heaven and he fhall doom 535 To wail his fate in death's eternal gloom.
He fees Alcathoüs in the front aspire :
Great Efyetes was the hero's fire:
His fpoufe Hippodamè, divinely fair,
Anchifes' eldest hope, and darling care;
Who charm'd her parent's and her husband's heart, With beauty, fenfe, and every work of art:
He once, of Ilion's youth, the loveliest boy,
The fairest fhe, of all the fair of Troy.
By Neptune now the hapless hero dies,
Who covers with a cloud those beauteous eyes,
And fetters every limb: yet, bent to meet
His fate, he ftands; nor fhuns the lance of Crete.
Fixt as fome column, or deep-rooted oak,
(While the winds fleep) his breast receiv'd the ftroke.
Before the ponderous ftroke his corfelet yields,
Long us'd to ward the death in fighting fields.
The riven armour fends a jarring found:
His labouring heart heaves with fo ftrong a bound,
The long lance shakes, and vibrates in the wound:
Faft-flowing from its fource, as prone he lay,
Life's purple tide impetuous gufh'd away.
Then Idomen, infulting o'er the flain;
Behold, Deïphobus! nor vaunt in vain :
See! on one Greek three Trojan ghofts attend, 560
This, my third victim, to the fhades I fend.
Approaching now, thy boasted might approve,
And try the prowess of the feed of Jove.
From Jove, enamour'd on a mortal dame,
Great Minos, guardian of his country, came:
Deucalion, blameless prince! was Minos' heir;
His firft-born I, the third from Jupiter:
O'er fpacious Crete and her bold fons I reign,
And thence my ships tranfport me through the main : Lord of a hoft, o'er all my host I shine,
A fcourge to thee, thy father, and thy line.
The Trojan heard; uncertain, or to meet Alone, with venturous arms, the king of Crete; Or feek auxiliar force: at length decreed
To call fome hero to partake the deed,
Forthwith Æneas rifes to his thought:
For him, in Troy's remoteft lines, he fought;
Where he, incens'd at partial Priam, ftands,
And fees fuperiour posts in meaner hands.
To him, ambitious of fo great an aid,
The bold Deïphobus approach'd, and faid:
Now, Trojan prince, employ thy pious arms,
If e'er thy bofom felt fair honour's charms.
Alcathous dies, thy brother and thy friend!
Come, and the warriour's lov'd remains defend. 585
Beneath his cares thy early youth was train'd,
One table fed you, and one roof contain'd.
This deed to fierce Idomeneus we owe;
Haste, and revenge it on th' infulting foe.
Æneas heard, and for a space refign'd
To tender pity all his manly mind;
Then, rifing in his rage, he burns to fight:
The Greek awaits him, with collected might.
As the fell boar on fome rough mountain's head,
Arm'd with wild terrours, and to flaughter bred, 595
When the loud rufticks rife, and fhout from far,
Attends the tumult, and expects the war;
O'er his bent back the briftly honours rife,
Fires ftream in lightning from his fanguine eyes;
His foaming tusks both dogs and men engage,
But most his hunters rouze his mighty rage:
So ftood Idomeneus, his javelin fhook,
And met the Trojan with a lowering look.
Antilochus, Deïpyrus, were near,
The youthful offspring of the God of war,
Merion, and Aphareus, in field renown'd :
To these the warriour fent his voice around:
Fellows in arms! your timely aid unite;
Lo, great Æneas rushes to the fight:
Sprung from a God, and more than mortal bold; 610 He fresh in youth, and I in arms grown old.
Elfe fhould this hand, this hour, decide the ftrife,
The great difpute, of glory, or of life.
He spoke; and all as with one foul obey'd;
Their lifted bucklers caft a dreadful fhade
Around the chief. Æneas too demands
Th' affifting forces of his native lands:
Paris, Deiphobus, Ajenor join;
(Co-aids and captains of the Trojan line)
In order follow all th' embodied train;
Like Ida's flocks proceeding o'er the plain;
Before his fleecy care, erect and bold,
Stalks the proud ram, the father of the fold:
With joy the fwain furveys them, as he leads
To the cool fountains, through the well-known meads,
So joys Æneas, as his native band
Moves on in rank, and ftretches o'er the land.
C 4
Round dead Alcathoüs now the battle rofe;
On every fide the steely circle grows;
Now batter'd breast-plates and hack'd helmets ring,
And o'er their heads unheeded javelins fing.
Above the rest two towering chiefs appear,
There great Idomeneus, Æneas here.
Like Gods of war, difpenfing fate, they stood,
And burn'd to drench the ground with mutual blood.
The Trojan weapon whizz'd along in air,
The Cretan faw, and shunn'd the brazen spear:
Sent from an arm fo ftrong, the miffive wood
Stuck deep in earth, and quiver'd where it stood.
But Oenomas receiv'd the Cretan's ftroke,
The forceful spear his hollow corfelet broke,
It ripp'd his belly with a ghaftly wound,
And roll'd the fmoaking entrails to the ground.
Stretch'd on the plain, he sobs away his breath,
And furious grasps the bloody duft in death.
The victor from his breaft the weapon tears;
(His fpoils he could not, for the fhower of spears.)
Though now unfit an active war to wage,
Heavy with cumberous arms, stiff with cold age,
His liftlefs limbs unable for the course;
In ftanding fight he yet maintains his force :
Till, faint with labour, and by foes repell'd,
His tir'd flow fteps he drags from off the field.
Deïphobus beheld him as he past,
And, fir'd with hate, a parting javelin caft:
The javelin err'd, but held its courfe along,
And pierc'd Afcalaphus, the brave and young:
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