II.

He entered Ilion once before, With foam his eyes were covered o’er, In tatters hung his squalid vest; He artfully concealed his sword, And sued for fragments from our board; Shorn was his head, and like a beggar dressed; He cursed with simulated hate Th’ Atrides, rulers of the Grecian state. May just revenge his forfeit life demand: Would he had perished as his crimes deserve, Before he reached the Phrygian land.

1st SEMICHOR. Whether this deed was by Ulysses wrought It matters not, I shrink with fear, for Hector Will to us guards impute the blame.

2nd SEMICHOR. What charge Can he allege?

1st SEMICHOR. He will suspect.

2nd SEMICHOR. Why shrink With terror?

1st SEMICHOR. ’Twixt our ranks they passed.

2nd SEMICHOR. Who passed?

1st SEMICHOR. They, who this night have entered Phrygia’s camp.

CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS.

CHA. Alas! intolerable stroke of fate!

1st SEMICHOR. Be silent.

2nd SEMICHOR. Rouse! for some one may have fallen Into the snare.

CHA. O dire calamity Of Troy’s allies, the Thracians!

1st SEMICHOR. Who is he That groans?

CHA. Ah! wretched me, and O thou king Of Thrace, who in an evil hour beheld’st Accursed Ilion; what an end of life Was thine!

CHOR. But which of our allies art thou? For o’er these eyes the gloom of night is spread, And I discern thee not.

CHA. Where shall I find Some of the Trojan chiefs? beneath his shield O where doth Hector taste the charms of sleep? To which of Ilion’s leaders shall I tell All we have suffered? and what wounds unseen Some stranger hath on us with ruthless hand Inflicted? but he vanished and hath heaped Conspicuous sorrows on the Thracian realm.

CHOR. Some terrible disaster to the troops Of Thrace it seems hath happened, if aright I comprehend what I from him have heard.

CHA. Our host is utterly destroyed, our king Hath been despatched by some foul secret stroke. How am I tortured by a deadly wound, Yet know not to what cause I must impute My perishing! ’Twas by the Fates ordained, That I, and Rhesus, who to Ilion led Auxiliar troops, ingloriously should bleed.

CHOR. He in no riddle hath expressed the tale Of our misfortunes; he asserts too clearly That our allies are slain.

CHA. We are most wretched, And to our wretchedness have joined disgrace, A twofold evil. For, to die with glory, If glory must be purchased at the expense Of life, is very bitterness I deem To him who bleeds (for what can make amends For such a loss as life); but to the living Is he the source of pride, from him his house Derives renown. But we, alas! like fools, Ignobly perish. Hector in the camp No sooner fixed our station, and pronounced The watchword, than we slept upon the plain, O’ercome with toil; no sentinels were stationed To watch our troops by night, nor were our arms Duly arranged, and to the harnessed steeds Hung no alarm bell; for our monarch heard That ye had proved victorious, and with ruin Threatened the Grecian fleet. Immersed we lay In luckless slumber; till disturbed in mind I started up, and with a liberal hand Measured the coursers’ food, resolved betimes To yoke them for the battle. I beheld Two men, who, in the midnight darkness, walked Around our camp; but when I moved, they fled, And disappeared immediately; with threats I bade them keep aloof: ’twas my conjecture That robbers, some of our own countrymen, Approached: they answered not, nor know I more. Returning to my tent, again I slept, And forms tremendous hovered in my dream. For near my royal master, as I stood, I saw two visionary wolves ascend Those coursers’ backs which I was wont to guide, Oft lashing with their tails they forced them on, Indignant breathing as they champed the bit, And struggling with dismay; but in attempting To drive away these ravenous beasts, I woke, Roused by the terrors of the night, and heard, Soon as I raised my head, expiring groans; The tepid current of my master’s blood, Yet gasping in the agonies of death, Besprinkled me. As from the couch I leaped Unarmed, and sought for weapons, some strong warrior Smote with his sword my ribs; the ghastly wound Displayed his might: prostrate I sunk to earth. Bearing the steeds away, and glittering car, They by the swiftness of their feet escaped, Tortured with pain, too faint to stand, I know Too well the dire calamity these eyes Beheld; but cannot say, or through what means, Or by the hand of whom, my lord was slain: Yet can I guess that by our friends we suffer.

CHOR. O charioteer of Thracia’s wretched king, Be well assured this deed was by our foes Committed. For lo! Hector’s self, apprized Of this calamity, draws near; he feels Such anguish as he ought for thy disasters.

HECTOR, CHARIOTEER OF RHESUS, CHORUS.

HEC. O ye accursed authors of this mischief, How did those spies, who by the foe were sent Thus, to your infamy, escape, and spread Dire havoc through the host; both as they entered And as they left the camp? Yet, unmolested, Ye suffered them to pass. Who should be punished But you? for you, I say, were stationed here To watch the camp; but they without a wound Are vanished, laughing at the Phrygian troops For their unmanly cowardice, and me Their leader. Be assured, by Jove I swear, All-gracious father, or the scourge or death Shall wait you for such guilt, else deem that Hector Is but a thing of nought, a very coward.

CHOR. Great is, alas! my danger, mighty prince, The foe stole in while I to you conveyed Those tidings, that the Greeks around their ships Had kindled fires: through all the live-long night These watchful eyes have ne’er been sealed by sleep. By Simois’ holy fountain I conjure you, My royal lord, impute no blame to me, For I am wholly guiltless. If you learn That in my deeds or words I have offended, Plunge me alive beneath earth’s deepest vault; I ask no mercy.

CHA. Why dost thou upbraid These for the guilt? by plausible harangues Wouldst thou impose on thy barbarian friends; O thou barbarian, thou the bloody deed Didst perpetrate; nor can our slaughtered comrades, Nor we who linger pierced with ghastly wounds, Admit that ’twas another. There requires A long and subtle speech to make me think Thou didst not basely murder thy allies, Because the beauty of our steeds attracted Thy admiration, and on their account Hast thou slain those who at thy earnest prayer Landed on Ilion’s shore; they came, they died. With greater decency than thou observ’st, Who dost assassinate thy friends, did Paris The rites of hospitality infringe. Pretend not that some Grecian came unseen And smote us. Who subdued the Phrygian host, Who reached our quarters unobserved by Hector? Thou with the Trojan army wert before us; But who was wounded, who among thy troops Expired, when through their ranks as thou pretend’st The foe to us advanced? But I was wounded, And they, whom a more grievous ill o’ertook, No more behold the sun. To be explicit, I charge no Greek: what foe could come by night And find out Rhesus’ tent, unless some god Had told the murderers, for they sure knew nought Of his arrival? therefore all this mischief Must be thy sole contrivance.

HEC. Our allies Have long assisted us since first the Greeks This realm invaded; and I never heard They to my charge imputed any crime. Could I begin with thee? by such desire For beauteous steeds may I be never seized, As to induce me to destroy my friends. Ulysses was the author of this deed. What Greek could have accomplished or contrived Such an exploit, but he? Him much I fear: My soul is also troubled lest he light On Dolon too, and slay him, for ’tis long Since he went forth, nor doth he yet return.

CHA. I know not that Ulysses whom thou nam’st, Nor did a foe inflict this ghastly wound.

HEC. Therefore retain, since thus to thee it seems, Thy own opinion.

CHA. O my native land, Might I but die in thee!

HEC. Thou shalt not die: For of the dead the number is sufficient.

CHA. Reft of my lord, but whither shall I turn?

HEC. Thou in my house shalt careful treatment find, And healing balsams.

CHA. Shall the ruthless hands Of murderers dress my wounds?

HEC. He will not cease Alleging the same charge.

CHA. Perdition seize The author of this bloody deed! my tongue Has fixed no charge, as thou pretend’st, on thee; But Justice knows.

HEC. Conduct him to my palace With speed, that we may ’scape his clamorous plaints. But you must go, and to the citizens Proclaim, acquainting Priam, and the elders Who sit in council, first, that I direct The bodies of the slain shall be interred With due respect beside the public road.

[_Exit_ CHARIOTEER, _supported by one of_ HECTOR’S _Attendants_.

CHOR. Why from the summit of exalted bliss Into fresh woes hath some malignant god Plunged Troy, why caused this sad reverse of fortune?

_The_ MUSE _appears in the air_, HECTOR, CHORUS.

CHOR. High o’er our heads what deity, O king, Is hovering? in her hands a recent corse She bears: I shudder at the dreadful sight.

MUSE. Ye Trojans, mark me well: for I a Muse Who by the wise am worshipped, hither come, One of the nine famed sisters, having seen The wretched fate of this my dearest son, Who by the foe was slain: but he who smote The generous youth, Ulysses, that dissembler, At length shall suffer as his crimes deserve.

ODE.