Regard thyself, the living and the dead.”


“Thy eyes, great father! on this battle cast,

Shall learn from me Penelope was chaste.”


So spoke Telemachus: the gallant boy

Good old Laertes heard with panting joy.

“And bless’d! thrice bless’d this happy day! (he cries,)

The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes,

A son and grandson of the Arcesian name

Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!”


Then thus Minerva in Laertes’ ear:

“Son of Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear!

Jove and Jove’s daughter first implore in prayer,

Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air.”

She said, infusing courage with the word.

Jove and Jove’s daughter then the chief implored,

And, whirling high, dismiss’d the lance in air.

Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear:

The brass-cheek’d helmet opens to the wound;

He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound.

Before the father and the conquering son

Heaps rush on heaps, they fight, they drop, they run

Now by the sword, and now the javelin, fall

The rebel race, and death had swallow’d all;

But from on high the blue-eyed virgin cried;

Her awful voice detain’d the headlong tide:

“Forbear, ye nations, your mad hands forbear

From mutual slaughter; Peace descends to spare.”

Fear shook the nations: at the voice divine

They drop their javelins, and their rage resign.

All scatter’d round their glittering weapons lie;

Some fall to earth, and some confusedly fly.

With dreadful shouts Ulysses pour’d along,

Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong.

But Jove’s red arm the burning thunder aims:

Before Minerva shot the livid flames;

Blazing they fell, and at her feet expired;

Then stopped the goddess, trembled and retired.


“Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease;

Offend not Jove: obey, and give the peace.”


So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above

The king obey’d. The virgin-seed of Jove,

In Mentor’s form, confirm’d the full accord,