Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/83

366—414 The vital spirit issued at the wound,

And left the members quivering on the ground.

From the same urn they drink the mingled wine,

And add libations to the powers divine.

While thus their prayers united mount the sky:

"Hear, mighty Jove! and hear, ye gods on high!

And may their blood, who first the league confound,

Shed like this wine, disdain the thirsty ground;

May all their consorts serve promiscuous lust,

And all their race be scattered as the dust!"

Thus either host their imprecations joined,

Which Jove refused, and mingled with the wind.

The rites now finished, reverend Priam rose,

And thus expressed a heart o'ercharged with woes:

"Ye Greeks and Trojans, let the chiefs engage,

But spare the weakness of my feeble age;

In yonder walls that object let me shun,

Nor view the danger of so dear a son.

Whose arms shall conquer, and what prince shall fall,

Heaven only knows, for heaven disposes all."

This said, the hoary king no longer stayed,

But on his car the slaughtered victims laid;

Then seized the reins his gentle steeds to guide,

And drove to Troy, Antenor at his side.

Bold Hector and Ulysses now dispose

The lists of combat, and the ground enclose;

Next to decide by sacred lots prepare,

Who first shall lance his pointed spear in air.

The people pray with elevated hands,

And words like these are heard through all the bands:

"Immortal Jove! high heaven's superior lord,

On lofty Ida's holy mount adored!

Whoe'er involved us in this dire debate,

Oh give that author of the war to fate

And shades eternal! let division cease,

And joyful nations join in leagues of peace."

With eyes averted Hector hastes to turn

The lots of fight, and shakes the brazen urn.

Then, Paris, thine leaped forth; by fatal chance

Ordained the first to whirl the mighty lance.

Both armies sat, the combat to survey,

Beside each chief his azure armour lay,

And round the lists the generous coursers neigh.

The beauteous warrior now arrays for fight,

In gilded arms magnificently bright:

The purple cuishes clasp his thighs around,

With flowers adorned, with silver buckles bound:

Lycaon's corselet his fair body dressed,

Braced in, and fitted to his softer breast;