THE chiefs were fet, the foldiers crown'd the field:

To these the master of the sevenfold fhield
Upftarted fierce and kindled with disdain,
Eager to speak, unable to contain

His boiling rage, he roll'd his eyes around
The shore, and Grecian gallies haul'd a-ground.
Then ftretching out his hands, O Jove, he cry'd,
Muft then our caufe before the fleet be try'd?
And dares Ulyffes for the prize contend,
In fight of what he durft not once defend?
But bafely fled that memorable day,

When I from Hector's hands redeem'd the flaming prey.

in war.

So much 'tis fafer at the noify bar
With words to flourish, than engage
By different methods we maintain'd our right,
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 foft deceit.
Nor need I fpeak my deeds, for these you fee;
The fun and day are witneffes for me.
Let him who fights unfeen relate his own,
And vouch'd the filent ftars and confcious moon.
Great is the prize demanded, I confefs,
But fuch an abject rival makes it lefs.

That gift, thofe honours, he but hop'd to gain,
Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain :
Lofing he wins, because his name will be
Ennobled by defeat, who durft contend with me.
Were mine own valour question'd, yet my blood
Without that plea would make my title good:,
My fire was Telamon, whofe arms, employ'd
With Hercules, thefe Trojan walls deftroy'd;
And who before, with Jafon, fent from Greece,
In the first ship brought home the golden fleece:
Great Telamon from acus derives

His birth (th' inquifitor of guilty lives
In fhades below; where Sifyphus, whose son
This thief is thought, rolls up the reftlefs heavy
Just Eacus the king of Gods above [stone).
Begot: thus Ajax is the third from Jove.
Nor fhould I feek 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 feed
By fraud and theft afferts his father's breed.
Then must I lofe thefe arms, because I came
To fight uncall'd, a voluntary name?
Nor fhunn'd the cause, but offer'd you my aid,
While he long lurking was to war betray'd:

Forc'd 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,
(III for himself) and dragg'd him into war.
Now let a hero's arms a coward vest,
And he, who fhunn'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,
Or fo believ'd; the lefs had been our shame,
The lefs his counsel'd crime, which brands the
Grecian name;

Nor Philoctetes had been left inclos'd
In a bare ifle, to wants and pains expos'd,
Where to the rocks, with folitary groans,
His fufferings and our bafenefs he bemoans;
And wishes (fo may heaven his wifh fulfill)
The due reward to him who caus'd his ill.
Now he, with us to Troy's deftruction sworn,
Our brother of the war, by whom are borne
Alcides' arrows, pent in narrow bounds,

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

death.

Though he had judg'd himself by his own laws,
And stood condemn'd, I help'd the common cause:
With my broad buckler hid him from the foe;
(Ev'n the fhield trembling as he lay below);
And from impending fate the coward freed:
Good heaven forgive me for so bad a deed!
If ftill he will perfift, and urge the strife,
Firft let him give me back his forfeit life:
Let him return to that opprobrious field;
Again creep under my protecting shield:
Let him lie wounded, let the foe be near,
And let his quivering heart confefs his fear;
There put him in the very jaws of fate;
And let him plead his caufe in that estate :
And yet, when snatch'd from death, when from
below

My lifted fhield I loos'd and let him go,

Good heavens, how light he rose, with what a bound

He fprung from earth, forgetful of his wound :

wounds,

To find him food and cloathing, must employ
Against the birds the shafts due to the fate of Troy.
Yet ftill he lives, and lives from treason free,
Because he left Ulyffes' company:
Poor Palamede might wish, fo void of aid

Rather to have been left, than fo to death betray'd.

The coward bore the man immortal spite,
Who fham'd him out of madness into fight:
Nor, daring otherwife to vent his hate;
Accus'd him first of treason to the state;
And then for proof produc'd the golden store
Himself had hidden in his tent before :
Thus of two champions he depriv'd our host,
By exile one, and one by treafon loft.
Thus fights Ulyffes, thus his fame extends,
A formidable man, but to his friends:
Great, for what greatness is in words and found:
Ev'n faithful Neftor lefs in both is found:
But that he might without a rival reign,
He left his faithful Neftor on the plain;
Forlook his friend ev'n at his utmost need,
Who tir'd and tardy, with his wounded steed,
Cry'd out for aid, and call'd him by his name ;
But cowardice has neither ears nor fhame:
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 forg'd by me,
Like one of his, an Ulyffean lie,

I vouch ev'n Diomede, who, though his friend,
Cannot that act excuse, much lefs defend:
He call'd him back aloud, and tax'd his fear';
And fure enough he heard, but durft not hear.
The Gods with equal eyes on mortals look;
He justly was forfaken, who forfook :
Wanted that fuccour he refus'd to lend,
Found every fellow fuch another friend:
No wonder, if he roar'd that all might hear,
His elocution was increas'd by fear :

Who had not ftrength to ftand, had speed to fly!
Hector came on, and brought the Gods along;
Fear feiz'd alike the feeble and the ftrong:
Each Greek was an Ulyffes; fuch a dread
Th' approach, and ev'n the found, of Hector bred:
Him, flefh'd with flaughter, and with conque
crown'd,

I met, and overturn'd him to the ground.
When after, matchlefs as he deem'd in might,
He challeng'd 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' infulting Trojan came,
And menac'd us with force, our fleet with flame:
Was it the ftrength of this tongue-valiant lord,
In that black hour that fav'd you from the fword?
Or was my breast expos'd alone, to brave
A thousand fwords, a thousand ships to fave?
The hopes of your return! and can you yield,
For a fav'd 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 fleeper flain;
A priest made prifoner, Pallas made a prey:
But none of all these actions done by day:
Nor aught of these was done and Diomede ag
way.

If on fuch petty merits you confer

So vaft a prize, let each his portion share;
Make a juft dividend; and if not all,
The greater part to Diomede will fall,

But why for Ithacus fuch arms as thofe,
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 fuftain the weight;
Nor that right arm could tofs the beamy lance;
Much lefs the left that ampler fhield advance;
Ponderous with precious weight, and rough with
coft

Of the round world in rifing gold emboss'd.
That orb would ill become his hand to wield,
And look as for the gold he stole the shield;
Which fhould your error on the wretch bestow,
It would not freighten, but allure the foe:
Why afks he, what avails him not in fight,
And would but cumber and retard his flight,
In which his only excellence is plac'd?
You give him death, that intercept his hafte.
Add, that his own is yet a maiden fhield,
Nor the leaft dint has fuffer'd in the field,
Guiltlefs of fight. mine batter'd, hew'd, and bor'd,
Worn out of fervice, muft forfake his lord.
What farther need of words our right to scan?
My arguments are deeds, let action fpeak the man.
Since from a champion's at ms the ftrife arose,
So caft the glorious prize amid the foes;
Then fend us to redeem both arms and fhield,
And let him wear who wins them in the field.
He faid a murmur from the multitude,
Or fomewhat like a ftifled out, enfued:
Till from his feat arose Lact tes' fon,

Look'd down awhile, and pa us'd e'er he begun ;
Then to th' expecting audien ce rais'd his look,
And not without prepar'd attention spoke :
Soft was his tone, and fober vas his face;
Action his words, and words his action grace.
If heaven, my lords, had heard our common
prayer.
These arms had caus'd no quarrel for an heir;
Still great Achilles had his own poffefs'd,
And we with great Achilles had been blefs'd.
But fince hard fate, and heave n's fevere decree,
Have ravish'd him away from you and me
(At this he figh'd, and wip'd his eyes, and drew,
Or feem'd to draw, fome drops of kindly dew);
Who better can fucceed Achilles loft,
Than he who gave Achilles to your host?
This only I requeft, that neither he
May gain, by being what he feems to be,
A ftupid thing, nor I may lose the prize,
By having fenfe, which heaven to him denies :
Since, great or fmall, the talent I enjoy'd
Was ever in the common caufe employ'd:
Nor let my wit, and wonted eloquence,
Which often has been us'd 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 defcended ancestors
Are but by grace of imputation ours,
Theirs in effect: but fince he draws his line
From Jove, and feems to plead a right divine ;

From Jove, like him, I claim my pedigree,
And am defcended in the fame degree:
My fire Laertes was Arcefius' heir,
Arcefius was the fon of Jupiter :
No parricide, no banish'd man, is known
In all my line: let him excufe his own.
Hermes ennobles too my mother's fide,
By both my parents to the Gods ally'd;
But not because that on the female part
My blood is better, dare I claim defert,
Or that my fire from parricide is free;
But judge by merit betwixt him and me:
The prize be to the beft: provided yet,
That Ajax for a while his kin forget,
And his great fire, and greater uncle's name,
To fortify by them his feeble claim:
Be kindred and relation laid afide,
And honour's caufe by laws of honour try'd:
For if he plead proximity of blood,
That empty title is with ease withstood.
Peleus, the hero's fire, more nigh than he,
And Pyrrhus his undoubted progeny,
Inherit first these trophies of the field;
To Scyros, or to Phthia, fend the shield:
And Teucer has an uncle's right; yet he
Waves his pretenfions, nor contends with me.

Then, fince the cause on pure defert is plac'd,
Whence fhall I take my rife, what reckon last?
I not prefume on every act to dwell,
But take these few, in order as they fell.

}

Thetis, who knew the fates, apply'd her care
To keep Achilles in difguife 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 veft,
And Ajax (never wifer than the reft)
Found no Pelides there: at length I came
With proffer'd wares to this pretended dame;
She, not difcover'd by her mien or voice,
Betray'd her manhood by her manly choice;
And while on female toys her fellows look,
Grafp'd in her warlike hand, a javelin fhook;
Whom, by this act reveal'd, I thus bespoke :
O Goddess born! refift not heaven's decree,
The fall of Ilium is referv'd for thee;
Then feiz'd him, and, produc'd 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 cur'd: to me the Thebans owe,
Lefbos and Tenedos, their over overthrow;
Scyros and Cylla: not on all to dwell,
By me Lyrnefus and strong Chrysa fell:
And fince I fent the man who Hector flew,
To me the noble Hector's death is due:
Those arms I put into his living hand,
Thofe arms, Pelides dead, I now demand.
When Greece was injur'd in the Spartan
prince,

And met at Aulis to revenge th' offence,
'Twas a dead calm, or adverse blafts, that reign'd,
And in the port the wind-bound fleet detain'd:
Bad figns were seen, and oracles severe
Were daily thunder'd in our general's ear:

}

That by his daughter's blood we muft appease
Diana's kindled wrath, and free the feas.
Affection, intereft, fame, his heart affail'd;
But foon 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 fubject could fuftain their sovereign's look,
Till this hard enterprize I undertook:
I only durft th' imperial power control,
And undermin'd the parent in his foul;
Forc'd him t'exert the king for common good,
And pay our ranfom with his daughter's blood.
Never was caufe more difficult to plead,
Than where the judge against himself decreed:
Yet this I won by dint of argument;
The wrongs his injur'd brother underwent,
And his own office, fham'd him to confent.
'Twas harder yet to move the mother's mind,
And to this heavy task was I defign'd:
Realons against her love I knew were vain :
I circumvented whom I could not gain :
Had Ajax been employ'd, our flacken'd fails
Had ftill at Aulis waited happy gales.
Arriv'd at Troy, your choice was fix'd on me.
A fearless envoy, fit for a bold embaffy:
Secure, I enter'd through the hostile court,
Glittering with fteel and crowded with resort :
There in the midst of arms, I plead our cause,
Urge the foul rape, and violated laws;
Accufe the foes, as authors of the ftrife,
Reproach the ravifher, demand the wife.
Priam, Antenor, and the wifer few,

I mov'd; but Paris and his lawlefs crew

Scarce held their hands, and lifted fwords: but food

In ac to quench their impious thirst of blood :
This Menelaus knows; expos'd to fhare
With me the rough preludium of the war.

Endless it were to tell what I have done,
In arms, or counfel, fince the fiege begun :
The first encounters paft, the foe repell'd,
They fkulk'd within the town, we kept the field,
War feem'd afleep for nine long years; at length,
Both fides refolv'd to pufh, we try'd our strength.
Now what did Ajax while our arms took breath,
Vers'd only in the grofs mechanic trade of death?
If you require my deeds, with ambush'd arms
I trapp'd the foe, or tir'd with falfe alarms;
Secur'd the fhips, drew lines along the plain,
The fainting cheer'd, chaftis'd the rebel train,
Provided forage, our spent arms renew'd;
Imploy'd at home, or fent abroad, the common
caufe purfu'd.

The king, deluded in a dream by Jove, Defpair'd to take the town, and order'd to remove. What fubject durft arraign the power fupreme, Producing Jove to justify his dream? Ajax might wish the foldiers to retain From fhameful 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 boafter threaten, did he pray, Or by his own example urge their stay? None, none of thefe, but ran himself away.

I saw him run, and was afham'd to fee;
Who ply'd his feet so fast to get aboard as he?
Then, fpeeding through the place, I made a
ftand,

And loudly cry'd, O bafe degenerate band,
To leave a town already in your hand,
After so long expence of blood, for fame,
To bring home nothing but perpetual shame!
Thefe words, or what I have forgotten fince,
(For grief infpir'd me then with eloquence)
Reduc'd their minds, they leave the crowded port,
And to their late forfaken camp refort;
Difmay'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 feal'd.
Then, rifing, I excite their fouls to fame,
And kindle fleeping virtue into flame.

From thence, whatever he perform❜d in fight
Is juftly mine who drew him back from flight.
Which of the Grecian chiefs conforts with
thee?

But Diomede defires my company,
And still communicates his praife with me.
As guided by a God, fecure he goes,
Arm'd with my fellowship, amid the foes:
And fure no little merit I may boast,
Whom fuch a man felects from such an host ;
Unforc'd by lots, I went without affright,
To dare with him the dangers of the night:
On the fame errand fent, we met the spy
Of Hector, double-tongued, and us'd to lie;
Him I difpatch'd, but not till, undermin'd,

I drew him first to tell what treacherous Troy

Invaded Rhæfus, and his Thracian crew,
And him, and his, in their own ftrength, I flew;
Return'd a victor, all my vows complete,
With the king's chariot, in his royal feat :
Refuse me now his arms, whose fiery steeds
Were promis'd to the fpy for his nocturnal deeds:
And let dull Ajax bear away my right,
When all his days out-balance this one night.

Nor fought 1 darkling tili: the fun beheld
With flaughter'd Lycians when I ftrew'd the field:
You faw and counted as I pafs'd along,
Alaftor, Cromius, Ceranos the strong,
Alcander, Prytanis, and Halius,
Noemon, Charopes, and Ennomus,
Choon, Cherfidamus; and five belide,
Men of obfcure defcent, but courage try'd :
All these this hand laid breathless on the ground;
Nor want I proofs of many a manly wound:
All honest, all before: believe not me;
Words may deceive, but credit what you fee.

At this he bar'd his breast, and show'd his fears, As of a furrow'd field, well plough'd with wars; Nor is this part unexercis'd, faid he; That giant bulk of his from wounds is free: Safe in his fhield he fears no foe to try, And better manages his blood than I:

But this avails me not; our boaster ftrove
Not with our foes alone, but partial Jove,
To fave the fleet: this I confefs is true
(Nor will I take from any man his due):
But thus affuming all, he robs from you.
Some part of honour to your share will fall,
He did the beft indeed, but did not all.
Patrocles in Achilles' arms, and thought
The chief he feem'd, with equal ardour fought;
Preferv'd the fleet, repell'd the raging fire
And forc'd the fearful Trojans to retire.

But Ajax boafts, that he was only thought
A match for Hector, who the combat fought:
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 boaft th' event,
For Hector from the field unwounded went.

Why am I forc'd to name that fatal day, That fnatch'd the prop and pride of Greece away? I faw Pelides fink, with pious grief, And ran in vain, alas! to his relief; For the brave foul was fled: full of my friend, I rush'd amid the war, his relics to defend : Nor ceas'd my toil till I redeem'd the prey, And, loaded with Achilles march'd away: Thofe arms, which on thefe fhoulders then I bore, 'Tis juft you to these fhoulders should restore. You fee I want not nerves, who could fuftain The ponderous ruins of fo 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, Thefe arms thus labour'd for her fon prepare; That Ajax after him the heavenly gift fhould wear?

For that dull foul to ftare with ftupid eyes,
On the learn'd unintelligible prize!
What are to him the fculptures of the shield,
Heaven's planets, earth, and ocean's watery field?
The Pleiads, Hyads; lefs and greater Bear,
Undipp'd in feas; Orion's angry star;
Two differing cities, grav'd on either hand?
Wonid he wear arms he cannot understand?

Befide, what wife objections he prepares
Against my late accellion to the wars!
Does not the fool perceive his argument
Is with more force against Achilles bent?
For if diffembling be fo great a crime,
The fault is common, and the fame in him;
And if he taxes both of long delay,
My guilt is lefs, who fooner came away,
His pious mother, anxious for his life,
Detain'd her fon; and me, my pions wife.
To them the bloffoms of our youth were due:
Our riper manhood we referv'd for you.
But grant me guilty, 'tis not much my care,
When with fo great a man my guilt 1 fhare:
My wit to war the matchlefs hero brought,
But by this fool he never had been caught.

Nor need I wonder, that on me he threw
Such foul afperfions, when he fpares not you:
If Palamede unjustly fell by me,
Your honour fuffer'd in th' unjust decree;

I but accus'd, you doom d: and yet he dy ́d,
Convinc'd of treafon, and was fairly try'd:
You heard not he was falfe; your eyes beheld
The traitor manifeft; the bribe reveal'd.
That Philoctetes is on Lemnos left,
Wounded, forlorn, of human aid bereft,
Is not my crime, or not my crime alone;
Defend your juftice, for the fact's your own:
'Tis true, th' advice was mine; that staying
there

He might his weary limbs with reft repair,
From a long voyage free, and from a longer war.,
He took th' counfel, and he lives at least;
Th' event declares I counsel'd for the beft:
Though faith is all, in minifters of state;
For who can promise to be fortunate?
Now fince his arrows are the fate of Troy,
Do not my wit, or weak address, employ;
Send Ajax there, with his perfuafive sense,
To mollify the man, and draw him thence:
But Xanthus fhall run backward; Ida ftand
A leaflefs mountain; and the Grecian band
Shall fight for Troy; if, when my counfels fail,
The wit of heavy Ajax can prevail.

Hard Philoctetes, exercife thy fpleen
Against thy fellows, and the king of men ;
Curfe my devoted head, above the rest,
And with in arms to meet me breast to breast:
Yet I the dangerous task will undertake,
And either die myself, or bring thee back.

Nor doubt the fame fuccefs, as when before
The Phrygian prophet to these tents I bore,
Surpris'd by night, and forc'd him to declare
In what was plac'd the fortune of the war;
Heaven's dark decrees and answers to difplay, [lay:
And how to take the town, and where the fecret
Yet this I compafs'd, and from Troy convey'd
The fatal image of their guardian maid;
That work was mine; for Pallas, though our
friend,

Yet while the was in Troy, did Troy defend.
Now what has Ajax done, or what design'd?
A noify nothing, and an empty wind.
If he be what he promises in fhow,
Why was I fent, and why fear'd he to go?
Our boasting champion thought the task not light
To pafs the guards, commit himself to night:
Not only through a hoftile town to pass,
But fcale, with fteep afcent, the facred place;
With wandering steps to fearch the citadel,
And from the priefts their patronefs to steal:
Then through furrounding foes to force my way,
And bear in triumph honie the heavenly prey;"
Which had I not, Ajax in vain had held,
Before that monftrous bulk, his fevenfold fhield.
That night to conquer Troy I might be said,
When Troy was liable to conquest made.

Why point't thou to my partner of the war? Tydides had indeed a worthy fhare

In all my toil and praife; but when thy might
Our fhips protected, didft thou fingly fight?
All join'd, and thou of many wert but one;
I afk'd no friend, nor had, but him alone:
Who, had he not been well affur'd, that art'
And condu& were of war the better part,