Part II

Wild from the forest, herds of boars were there,
And lions, mutual-glaring; and in wrath
Leap’d on each other; and by troops they drove
Their onset: nor yet these nor those recoil’d,
Nor quaked in fear. Of both the backs uprose
Bristling with anger: for a lion huge
Lay stretched amidst them, and two boars beside
Lifeless: the sable blood down-dropping ooz’d
Into the ground. So these with bowed backs
Lay dead beneath the terrible lions: they,
For this the more incensed, both savage boars
And tawny lions, chafing sprang to war.

There too the battle of the Lapithæ
Was wrought; the spear-arm’d warriors: Cæneus king,
Hopleus, Phalérus, and Pirithous,
And Dryas, and Exadius: Prolochus,
Mopsus of Titaressa, Ampyx’ son,
A branch of Mars, and Theseus like a god:
Son of Ægéus: silver were their limbs,
Their armour golden: and to them opposed
The Centaur band stood thronging: Asbolus,
Prophet of birds; Petræus huge of height;
Arctus, and Urius, and of raven locks
Mimas; the two Peucidæ, Dryalus,
And Perimedes: all of silver frame,
And grasping golden pine-trees in their hands.
At once they onset made: in very life
They rush’d, and hand to hand tumultuous closed
With pines and clashing spears. There fleet of hoof
The steeds were standing of stern-visaged Mars
In gold: and he himself, tearer of spoils,
Life-waster, purpled all with dropping blood,
As one who slew the living and despoil’d,
Loud-shouting to the warrior-infantry
There vaulted on his chariot. Him beside
Stood Fear and Consternation: high their hearts
Panted, all eager for the war of men.

There too Minerva rose, leader of hosts,
Resembling Pallas when she would array
The marshall’d battle. In her grasp the spear,
And on her brows a golden helm: athwart
Her shoulders thrown her ægis. Went she forth
In this array to meet the dreadful shout
Of war. And there a tuneful choir appear’d
Of heaven’s immortals: in the midst the son
Of Jove and of Latona sweetly rang
Upon his golden harp. Th’ Olympian mount,
Dwelling of gods, thrill’d back the broken sound.
And there were seen th’ assembly of the gods
Listening, encircled with their blaze of glory:
And in sweet contest with Apollo there
The virgins of Pieria raised the strain
Preluding; and they seem’d as though they sang
With clear sonorous voice. And there appear’d
A sheltering haven from the untamed rage
Of ocean. It was wrought of tin refined,
And rounded by the chisel: and it seem’d
Like to the dashing wave: and in the midst
Full many dolphins chased the fry, and show’d
As though they swam the waters, to and fro
Darting tumultuous. Two of silver scale,
Panting above the wave, the fishes mute
Gorged, that beneath them shook their quivering fins
In brass: but on the crag a fisher sate
Observant: in his grasp he held a net,
Like one that, poising, rises to the throw.

There was the horseman, fair-hair’d Danaë’s son,
Perseus: nor yet the buckler with his feet
Touch’d, nor yet distant hover’d: strange to think:
For nowhere on the surface of the shield
He rested: so the crippled artist-god
Illustrious framed him with his hands in gold.
Bound to his feet were sandals wing’d: a sword
Of brass with hilt of sable ebony
Hung round him from the shoulders by a thong:
Swift e’en as thought he flew. The visage grim
Of monstrous Gorgon all his back o’erspread:
And wrought in silver, wondrous to behold,
A veil was drawn around it, whence in gold
Hung glittering fringes: and the dreadful helm
Of Pluto clasp’d the temples of the prince,
Shedding a night of darkness. Thus outstretch’d
In air, he seem’d like one to trembling flight
Betaken. Close behind the Gorgons twain
Of nameless terror unapproachable
Came rushing: eagerly they stretch’d their arms
To seize him: from the pallid adamant,
Audibly as they rush’d, the clattering shield
Clank’d with a sharp shrill sound. Two grisly snakes
Hung from their girdles, and with forking tongues
Lick’d their inflected jaws; and violent gnash’d
Their fangs fell glaring: from around their heads
Those Gorgons grim a flickering horror cast
Through the wide air. Above them warrior men
Waged battle, grasping weapons in their hands.
Some from their city and their sires repell’d
Destruction: others hasten’d to destroy:
And many press’d the plain, but more still held
The combat. On the strong-constructed towers
Stood women, shrieking shrill, and rent their cheeks
In very life, by Vulcan’s glorious craft.
The elders hoar with age assembled stood
Without the gates, and to the blessed gods
Their hands uplifted, for their fighting sons
Fear-stricken. These again the combat held.
Behind them stood the Fates, of aspect black,
Grim, slaughter-breathing, stern, insatiable,
Gnashing their white fangs; and fierce conflict held
For those who fell. Each eager-thirsting sought
To quaff the sable blood. Whom first they snatch’d
Prostrate, or staggering with the fresh-made wound,
On him they struck their talons huge: the soul
Fled down th’ abyss, the horror-freezing gulf
Of Tartarus. They, glutted to the heart
With human gore, behind them cast the corse:
And back with hurrying rage they turn’d to seek
The throng of battle. And hard by there stood
Clotho and Lachesis; and Atropos,
Somewhat in years inferior: nor was she
A mighty goddess: yet those other Fates
Transcending, and in birth the elder far.
And all around one man in cruel strife
Were join’d: and on each other turn’d in wrath
Their glowing eyes: and mingling desperate hands
And talons mutual strove. And near to them
Stood Misery: wan, ghastly, worn with woe:
Arid, and swoln of knees; with hunger’s pains
Faint-falling: from her lean hands long the nails
Out-grew: an ichor from her nostrils flow’d:
Blood from her cheeks distill’d to earth: with teeth
All wide disclosed in grinning agony
She stood: a cloud of dust her shoulders spread,
And her eyes ran with tears. But next arose
A well-tower’d city, by seven golden gates
Enclosed, that fitted to their lintels hung:
There men in dances and in festive joys
Held revelry. Some on the smooth-wheel’d car
A virgin bride conducted: then burst forth
Aloud the marriage-song: and far and wide
Long splendours flash’d from many a quivering torch
Borne in the hands of slaves. Gay-blooming girls
Preceded, and the dancers follow’d blithe:
These with shrill pipe indenting the soft lip
Breathed melody, while broken echoes thrill’d
Around them: to the lyre with flying touch
Those led the love-enkindling dance. A group
Of youths was elsewhere imaged to the flute
Disporting: some in dances and in song,
In laughter others. To the minstrel’s flute
So pass’d they on; and the whole city seem’d
As fill’d with pomps, with dances, and with feasts.

Others again, without the city walls,
Vaulted on steeds and madden’d for the goal.
Others as husbandmen appear’d, and broke
With coulter the rich glebe, and gather’d up
Their tunics neatly girded. Next arose
A field thick-set with depth of corn: where some
With sickle reap’d the stalks, their speary heads
Bent, as weigh’d down with pods of swelling grain,
The fruits of Ceres. Others into bands
Gather’d, and threw upon the threshing-floor
The sheaves. And some again hard by were seen
Holding the vine-sickle, who clusters cut
From the ripe vines; which from the vintagers
Others in frails received, or bore away,
In baskets thus up-piled, the cluster’d grapes,
Or black or pearly-white, cut from deep ranks
Of spreading vines, whose tendrils curling twined
In silver, heavy-foliaged: near them rose
The ranks of vines, by Vulcan’s curious craft
Figured in gold. The vines leaf-shaking curl’d
Round silver props. They therefore on their way
Pass’d jocund to one minstrel’s flageolet,
Burthen’d with grapes that blacken’d in the sun.
Some also trod the wine-press, and some quaff’d
The foaming must. But in another part
Were men who wrestled, or in gymnic fight
Wielded the cæstus. Elsewhere men of chase
Were taking the fleet hares. Two keen-tooth’d dogs
Bounded beside: these ardent in pursuit,
Those with like ardour doubling on their flight.
Next them were horsemen, who sore effort made
To win the prize of contest and hard toil.
High o’er the well-compacted chariots hung
The charioteers: the rapid horses loosed
At their full stretch, and shook the floating reins.
Rebounding from the ground with many a shock
Flew clattering the firm cars, and creak’d aloud
The naves of the round wheels. They therefore toil’d
Endless: nor conquest yet at any time
Achiev’d they, but a doubtful strife maintain’d.
In the mid-course the prize, a tripod huge,
Was placed in open sight; and it was carved
In gold: the skilful Vulcan’s glorious craft.

Rounding the uttermost verge the ocean flow’d
As in full swell of waters: and the shield
All-variegated with whole circle bound.
Swans of high-hovering wing there clamour’d shrill,
And many skimm’d the breasted surge: and nigh
Fishes were tossing in tumultuous leaps.
Sight marvellous e’en to thundering Jove: whose will
Bade Vulcan frame the buckler; vast and strong.
This fitting to his grasp the strong-nerved son
Of Jupiter now shook with ease: and swift
As from his father’s ægis-wielding arm
The bolted lightning darts, he vaulted sheer
Above the harness’d chariot at a bound
Into the seat: the hardy charioteer
Stood o’er the steeds from high, and guided strong
The crooked car. Now near to them approach’d
Pallas, the blue-eyed goddess, and address’d
These winged words in animating voice:
“Race of the far-famed Lyngeus! both all-hail!
Now verily the ruler of the Blest,
E’en Jove, doth give you strength to spoil of life
Cygnus your foe, and strip his gorgeous arms.
But I will breathe a word within thine ear
In counsel, oh most mighty midst the strong!
Now soon as e’er from Cygnus thou hast reft
The sweets of life, there leave him: on that spot,
Him and his armour: but th’ approach of Mars,
Slayer of mortals, watch with wary eye:
And where thy glance discerns a part exposed,
Defenceless of the well-wrought buckler, strike!
With thy sharp point there wound him, and recede:
For know, thou art not fated to despoil
“The steeds and glorious armour of a god.”