Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/394

392 Shouldst thou, but heaven avert it! shouldst thou bleed,

Nor must thy corse lie honoured on the bier,

Nor spouse, nor mother, grace thee with a tear;

Far from our pious rites, those dear remains

Must feast the vultures on the naked plains."

So they, while down their cheeks the torrents roll:

But fixed remains the purpose of his soul;

Resolved he stands, and with a fiery glance

Expects the hero's terrible advance.

So, rolled up In his den, the swelling snake

Beholds the traveller approach the brake;

When, fed with noxious herbs, his turgid veins

Have gathered half the poisons of the plains;

He burns, he stiffens with collected ire,

And his red eyeballs glare with living fire.

Beneath a turret, on his shield reclined,

He stood, and questioned thus his mighty mind:

"Where lies my way? To enter In the wall?

Honour and shame the ungenerous thought recall:

Shall proud Polydamas before the gate

Proclaim, his counsels are obeyed too late,

Which timely followed but the former night, What numbers had been saved by Hector's flight? That wise advice rejected with disdain, I feel my folly in my people slain. Methinks my suffering country's voice I hear, But most, her worthless sons insult my ear, On my rash courage charge the chance of war, And blame those virtues which they cannot share. No—If I e'er return, return I must Glorious, my country's terror laid in dust: Or if I perish, let her see my fall In field at least, and fighting for her wall. And yet suppose these measures I forgo, Approach unarmed, and parley with the foe, The warrior-shield, the helm, and lance lay down, And treat on terms of peace to save the town: The wife withheld, the treasure ill-detained, Cause of the war, and grievance of the land, With honourable justice to restore; And add half Ilion's yet remaining store, Which Troy shall, sworn, produce; that injured Greece May share our wealth, and leave our walls in peace. But why this thought? unarmed if I should go, What hope of mercy from this vengeful foe, But woman-like to fall, and fall without a blow? We greet not here, as man conversing man, Met at an oak, or journeying o'er a plain;