Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/142

140 Full on his neck, from Hector's weighty hand;

And rolled, with limbs relaxed, along the land.

By Glaucus' spear the bold Iphinous bleeds,

Fixed in the shoulder as he mounts his steeds;

Headlong he tumbles: his slack nerves unbound

Drop the cold useless members on the ground.

When now Minerva saw her Argives slain,

From vast Olympus to the gleaming plain

Fierce she descends: Apollo marked her flight,

Nor shot less swift from Ilion's towery height:

Radiant they met, beneath the beechen shade;

When thus Apollo to the blue-eyed Maid:

"What cause, O daughter of almighty Jove,

Thus wings thy progress from the realms above?

Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy way

To give to Greece the long-divided day?

Too much has Troy already felt thy hate,

Now breathe thy rage, and hush the stern debate:

This day the business of the field suspend;

War soon shall kindle, and great Ilion bend,

Since vengeful goddesses confederate join

To raze her walls, though built by hands divine."

To whom the progeny of Jove replies:

"I left for this the council of the skies:

But who shall bid conflicting hosts forbear,

What art shall calm the furious sons of war?"

To her the god: "Great Hector's soul incite

To dare the boldest Greek to single fight,

Till Greece, provoked, from all her numbers shew

A warrior worthy to be Hector's foe."

At this agreed, the heavenly powers withdrew;

Sage Helenus their secret counsels knew:

Hector inspired he sought: to him addressed,

Thus told the dictates of his sacred breast:

"O son of Priam! let thy faithful ear

Receive my words; thy friend and brother hear!

Go forth persuasive, and awhile engage

The warring nations to suspend their rage;

Then dare the boldest of the hostile train

To mortal combat on the listed plain,

For not this day shall end thy glorious date;

The gods have spoke it, and their voice is fate."

He said: the warrior heard the word with joy;

Then with his spear restrained the youth of Troy,

Held by the midst athwart. On either hand

The squadrons part; the expecting Trojans stand,

Great Agamemnon bids the Greeks forbear;

They breathe, and hush the tumult of the war.

The Athenian Maid, and glorious god of day,