Chapter II

He entered Ilion once before,
With foam his eyes were covered o’er,
In tatters hung his squalid vest;
He artfully concealed his sword,
And sued for fragments from our board;
Shorn was his head, and like a beggar dressed;
He cursed with simulated hate
Th’ Atrides, rulers of the Grecian state.
May just revenge his forfeit life demand:
Would he had perished as his crimes deserve,
Before he reached the Phrygian land.

1st SEMICHOR. Whether this deed was by Ulysses wrought
It matters not, I shrink with fear, for Hector
Will to us guards impute the blame.

2nd SEMICHOR. What charge
Can he allege?

1st SEMICHOR. He will suspect.

2nd SEMICHOR. Why shrink
With terror?

1st SEMICHOR. ’Twixt our ranks they passed.

2nd SEMICHOR. Who passed?

1st SEMICHOR. They, who this night have entered Phrygia’s camp.

CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS.

CHA. Alas! intolerable stroke of fate!

1st SEMICHOR. Be silent.

2nd SEMICHOR. Rouse! for some one may have fallen
Into the snare.

CHA. O dire calamity
Of Troy’s allies, the Thracians!

1st SEMICHOR. Who is he
That groans?

CHA. Ah! wretched me, and O thou king
Of Thrace, who in an evil hour beheld’st
Accursed Ilion; what an end of life
Was thine!

CHOR. But which of our allies art thou?
For o’er these eyes the gloom of night is spread,
And I discern thee not.

CHA. Where shall I find
Some of the Trojan chiefs? beneath his shield
O where doth Hector taste the charms of sleep?
To which of Ilion’s leaders shall I tell
All we have suffered? and what wounds unseen
Some stranger hath on us with ruthless hand
Inflicted? but he vanished and hath heaped
Conspicuous sorrows on the Thracian realm.

CHOR. Some terrible disaster to the troops
Of Thrace it seems hath happened, if aright
I comprehend what I from him have heard.

CHA. Our host is utterly destroyed, our king
Hath been despatched by some foul secret stroke.
How am I tortured by a deadly wound,
Yet know not to what cause I must impute
My perishing! ’Twas by the Fates ordained,
That I, and Rhesus, who to Ilion led
Auxiliar troops, ingloriously should bleed.

CHOR. He in no riddle hath expressed the tale
Of our misfortunes; he asserts too clearly
That our allies are slain.

CHA. We are most wretched,
And to our wretchedness have joined disgrace,
A twofold evil. For, to die with glory,
If glory must be purchased at the expense
Of life, is very bitterness I deem
To him who bleeds (for what can make amends
For such a loss as life); but to the living
Is he the source of pride, from him his house
Derives renown. But we, alas! like fools,
Ignobly perish. Hector in the camp
No sooner fixed our station, and pronounced
The watchword, than we slept upon the plain,
O’ercome with toil; no sentinels were stationed
To watch our troops by night, nor were our arms
Duly arranged, and to the harnessed steeds
Hung no alarm bell; for our monarch heard
That ye had proved victorious, and with ruin
Threatened the Grecian fleet. Immersed we lay
In luckless slumber; till disturbed in mind
I started up, and with a liberal hand
Measured the coursers’ food, resolved betimes
To yoke them for the battle. I beheld
Two men, who, in the midnight darkness, walked
Around our camp; but when I moved, they fled,
And disappeared immediately; with threats
I bade them keep aloof: ’twas my conjecture
That robbers, some of our own countrymen,
Approached: they answered not, nor know I more.
Returning to my tent, again I slept,
And forms tremendous hovered in my dream.
For near my royal master, as I stood,
I saw two visionary wolves ascend
Those coursers’ backs which I was wont to guide,
Oft lashing with their tails they forced them on,
Indignant breathing as they champed the bit,
And struggling with dismay; but in attempting
To drive away these ravenous beasts, I woke,
Roused by the terrors of the night, and heard,
Soon as I raised my head, expiring groans;
The tepid current of my master’s blood,
Yet gasping in the agonies of death,
Besprinkled me. As from the couch I leaped
Unarmed, and sought for weapons, some strong warrior
Smote with his sword my ribs; the ghastly wound
Displayed his might: prostrate I sunk to earth.
Bearing the steeds away, and glittering car,
They by the swiftness of their feet escaped,
Tortured with pain, too faint to stand, I know
Too well the dire calamity these eyes
Beheld; but cannot say, or through what means,
Or by the hand of whom, my lord was slain:
Yet can I guess that by our friends we suffer.

CHOR. O charioteer of Thracia’s wretched king,
Be well assured this deed was by our foes
Committed. For lo! Hector’s self, apprized
Of this calamity, draws near; he feels
Such anguish as he ought for thy disasters.

HECTOR, CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS.

HEC. O ye accursed authors of this mischief,
How did those spies, who by the foe were sent
Thus, to your infamy, escape, and spread
Dire havoc through the host; both as they entered
And as they left the camp? Yet, unmolested,
Ye suffered them to pass. Who should be punished
But you? for you, I say, were stationed here
To watch the camp; but they without a wound
Are vanished, laughing at the Phrygian troops
For their unmanly cowardice, and me
Their leader. Be assured, by Jove I swear,
All-gracious father, or the scourge or death
Shall wait you for such guilt, else deem that Hector
Is but a thing of nought, a very coward.

CHOR. Great is, alas! my danger, mighty prince,
The foe stole in while I to you conveyed
Those tidings, that the Greeks around their ships
Had kindled fires: through all the live-long night
These watchful eyes have ne’er been sealed by sleep.
By Simois’ holy fountain I conjure you,
My royal lord, impute no blame to me,
For I am wholly guiltless. If you learn
That in my deeds or words I have offended,
Plunge me alive beneath earth’s deepest vault;
I ask no mercy.

CHA. Why dost thou upbraid
These for the guilt? by plausible harangues
Wouldst thou impose on thy barbarian friends;
O thou barbarian, thou the bloody deed
Didst perpetrate; nor can our slaughtered comrades,
Nor we who linger pierced with ghastly wounds,
Admit that ’twas another. There requires
A long and subtle speech to make me think
Thou didst not basely murder thy allies,
Because the beauty of our steeds attracted
Thy admiration, and on their account
Hast thou slain those who at thy earnest prayer
Landed on Ilion’s shore; they came, they died.
With greater decency than thou observ’st,
Who dost assassinate thy friends, did Paris
The rites of hospitality infringe.
Pretend not that some Grecian came unseen
And smote us. Who subdued the Phrygian host,
Who reached our quarters unobserved by Hector?
Thou with the Trojan army wert before us;
But who was wounded, who among thy troops
Expired, when through their ranks as thou pretend’st
The foe to us advanced? But I was wounded,
And they, whom a more grievous ill o’ertook,
No more behold the sun. To be explicit,
I charge no Greek: what foe could come by night
And find out Rhesus’ tent, unless some god
Had told the murderers, for they sure knew nought
Of his arrival? therefore all this mischief
Must be thy sole contrivance.

HEC. Our allies
Have long assisted us since first the Greeks
This realm invaded; and I never heard
They to my charge imputed any crime.
Could I begin with thee? by such desire
For beauteous steeds may I be never seized,
As to induce me to destroy my friends.
Ulysses was the author of this deed.
What Greek could have accomplished or contrived
Such an exploit, but he? Him much I fear:
My soul is also troubled lest he light
On Dolon too, and slay him, for ’tis long
Since he went forth, nor doth he yet return.

CHA. I know not that Ulysses whom thou nam’st,
Nor did a foe inflict this ghastly wound.

HEC. Therefore retain, since thus to thee it seems,
Thy own opinion.

CHA. O my native land,
Might I but die in thee!

HEC. Thou shalt not die:
For of the dead the number is sufficient.

CHA. Reft of my lord, but whither shall I turn?

HEC. Thou in my house shalt careful treatment find,
And healing balsams.

CHA. Shall the ruthless hands
Of murderers dress my wounds?

HEC. He will not cease
Alleging the same charge.

CHA. Perdition seize
The author of this bloody deed! my tongue
Has fixed no charge, as thou pretend’st, on thee;
But Justice knows.

HEC. Conduct him to my palace
With speed, that we may ’scape his clamorous plaints.
But you must go, and to the citizens
Proclaim, acquainting Priam, and the elders
Who sit in council, first, that I direct
The bodies of the slain shall be interred
With due respect beside the public road.

[_Exit_ CHARIOTEER, _supported by one of_
HECTOR’S _Attendants_.

CHOR. Why from the summit of exalted bliss
Into fresh woes hath some malignant god
Plunged Troy, why caused this sad reverse of fortune?

_The_ MUSE _appears in the air_, HECTOR, CHORUS.

CHOR. High o’er our heads what deity, O king,
Is hovering? in her hands a recent corse
She bears: I shudder at the dreadful sight.

MUSE. Ye Trojans, mark me well: for I a Muse
Who by the wise am worshipped, hither come,
One of the nine famed sisters, having seen
The wretched fate of this my dearest son,
Who by the foe was slain: but he who smote
The generous youth, Ulysses, that dissembler,
At length shall suffer as his crimes deserve.

ODE.

I.

Parental anguish rends my breast,
For thee my son, my son, I grieve,
Thy mother sinks with woes oppressed.
Why didst thou take this road, why leave
Thy home, and march to Ilion’s gate,
Where death did thy arrival wait?
Oft with maternal zeal I strove
Thy luckless courage to restrain,
And oft thy sire opposed in vain.
But now with ineffectual love,
My dearest son, thee now no more,
Thee, O my son, must I deplore.

CHOR. As far as bosoms, by no kindred ties
United, can partake a mother’s grief,
Do I bewail thy son’s untimely fate.

MUSE.