Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/146

144 Then in the general's helm the fates are thrown.

The people pray with lifted eyes and hands,

And vows like these ascend from all the bands:

"Grant thou, Almighty! in whose hand is fate,

A worthy champion for the Grecian state.

This task let Ajax or Tydides, prove,

Or he, the king of kings, beloved by Jove."

Old Nestor shook the casque. By heaven inspired,

Leaped forth the lot, of every Greek desired.

This from the right to left the herald bears,

Held out in order to the Grecian peers;

Each to his rival yields the mark unknown,

Till godlike Ajax finds the lot his own;

Surveys the inscription with rejoicing eyes,

Then casts before him, and with transport cries:

"Warriors! I claim the lot, and arm with joy;

Be mine the conquest of this chief of Troy.

Now, while my brightest arms my limbs invest,

To Saturn's son be all your vows addressed:

But pray in secret, lest the foes should hear,

And deem your prayers the mean effect of fear.

Said I in secret? No, your vows declare

In such a voice as fills the earth and air.

Lives there a chief whom Ajax ought to dread,

Ajax, in all the toils of battle bred?

From warlike Salamis I drew my birth,

And, born to combats, fear no force of earth."

He said. The troops with elevated eyes,

Implore the god whose thunder rends the skies:

"O father of mankind, superior lord!

On lofty Ida's holy hill adored;

Who in the highest heaven hast fixed thy throne,

Supreme of gods! unbounded, and alone:

Grant thou, that Telamon may bear away

The praise and conquest of this doubtful day;

Or if illustrious Hector be thy care,

That both may claim it, and that both may share."

Now Ajax braced his dazzling armour on;

Sheathed in bright steel the giant warrior shone:

He moves to combat with majestic pace;

So stalks in arms the grizly god of Thrace,

When Jove to punish faithless men prepares,

And gives whole nations to the waste of wars.

Thus marched the chief, tremendous as a god;

Grimly he smiled: earth trembled as he strode:

His massy javelin quivering in his hand,

He stood, the bulwark of the Grecian band.

Through every Argive heart new transport ran;

All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man.