Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/435

For ah! could Hector merit thus? whose breath
Expired not meanly, in inactive death:
He poured his latest blood in manly fight,
And fell a hero in his country's right."
"Seek not to stay me, nor my soul affright
With words of omen, like a bird of night,"
Replied unmoved the venerable man:
"'Tis heaven commands me, and you urge in vain.
Had any mortal voice the injunction laid,
Nor augur, priest, nor seer had been obeyed.
A present goddess brought the high command:
I saw, I heard her, and the word shall stand.
I g> ye gods 1 obedient to your call
If in yon camp your powers have doomed my fall,
Content: by the same hand let me expire!
Add to the slaughtered son the wretched sire!
One cold embrace at least may be allowed,
And my last tears flow mingled with his blood!"
Forth from his opened stores, this said, he drew
Twelve costly carpets of refulgent hue;
As many vests, as many mantles told,
And twelve fair veils, and garments stiff with gold;
Two tripods next, and twice two chargers shine,
With ten pure talents from the richest mine;
And last a large, well-laboured bowl had place,
The pledge of treaties once with friendly Thrace;
Seemed all too mean the stores he could employ,
For one last look to buy him back to Troy!
Lo! the sad father, frantic with his pain,
Around him furious drives his menial train:
In vain each slave with duteous care attends,
Each office hurts him, and each face offends.
"What make ye here, officious crowds!" he cries,
"Hence, nor obtrude your anguish on my eyes.
Have ye no griefs at home, to fix ye there?
Am I the only object of despair?
Am I become my people's common show,
Set up by Jove your spectacle of woe?
No, you must feel him too: yourselves must fall;
The same stern god to ruin gives you all:
Nor is great Hector lost by me alone:
Your sole defence, your guardian power, is gone!
I see your blood the fields of Phrygia drown;
I see the ruins of your smoking town!
Oh send me, gods, ere that sad day shall come,
A willing ghost 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,