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At this offence giv'n; amongst whom heav'n's famous artizan,

       Ephaistus, in his mother's care, this comely speech began:

       "Believe it, these words will breed wounds, beyond our pow'rs to

       bear,

       If thus for mortals ye fall out. Ye make a tumult here

       That spoils our banquet. Evermore worst matters put down best.

       But, mother, though yourself be wise, yet let your son request

       His wisdom audience. Give good terms to our lov'd father Jove,

       For fear he take offence again, and our kind banquet prove

       A wrathful battle. If he will, the heav'nly Light'ner can

       Take you and toss you from your throne; his pow'r Olympian

       Is so surpassing. Soften then with gentle speech his spleen,

       And drink to him; I know his heart will quickly down again."

       This said, arising from his throne, in his lov'd mother's hand

       He put the double-handed cup, and said: "Come, do not stand

       On these cross humours, suffer, bear, though your great bosom

       grieve,

       And lest blows force you; all my aid not able to relieve

       Your hard condition, though these eyes behold it, and this heart

       Sorrow to think it. 'Tis a task too dang'rous to take part

       Against Olympius. I myself the proof of this still feel.

       When other Gods would fain have help'd, he took me by the heel,

       And hurl'd me out of heav'n. All day I was in falling down;

       At length in Lemnos I strook earth. The likewise-falling sun

       And I, together, set; my life almost set too; yet there

       The Sintii cheer'd and took me up." This did to laughter cheer

       White-wristed Juno, who now took the cup of him, and smil'd.

       The sweet peace-making draught went round, and lame Ephaistus

       fill'd

       Nectar to all the other Gods. A laughter never left

       Shook all the blesséd deities, to see the lame so deft

       At that cup service. All that day, ev'n till the sun went down,

       They banqueted, and had such cheer as did their wishes crown.

       Nor had they music less divine; Apollo there did touch

       His most sweet harp, to which, with voice, the Muses pleas'd as

       much.

       But when the sun's fair light was set, each Godhead to his house

       Address'd for sleep, where ev'ry one, with art most curious,

       By heav'n's great both-foot-halting God a sev'ral roof had built.

       Ev'n he to sleep went, by whose hand heav'n is with lightning gilt,

       High Jove, where he had us'd to rest when sweet sleep seiz'd his

       eyes;

       By him the golden-thron'd Queen slept, the Queen of deities.

      THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.

      [1] "See my bed made," it may be Englished. The word is ἀντιόωσαν, which signifies contra stantem as standing of one side opposite to another on the other side; which yet others translate capessentem et adornantem; which since it shows best to a reader, I follow.

      [2] This simile Virgil directly translates.

      THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIADS

      THE ARGUMENT

      Jove calls a vision up from Somnus' den

       To bid Atrides muster up his men.

       The King, to Greeks dissembling his desire,

       Persuades them to their country to retire.

       By Pallas' will, Ulysses stays their flight:

       And wise old Nestor heartens them to fight.

       They take their meat; which done, to arms they go,

       And march in good array against the foe.

       So those of Troy; when Iris, from the sky,

       Of Saturn's son performs the embassy.

      ANOTHER ARGUMENT

      Beta the dream and synod cites;

       And catalogues the naval knights.

      The other Gods, and knights at arms, all night slept; only Jove

       Sweet slumber seiz'd not; he discours'd how best he might approve

       His vow made for Achilles' grace, and make the Grecians find

       His miss in much death. All ways cast, this counsel serv'd his mind

       With most allowance; to despatch a harmful Dream to greet

       The king of men, and gave this charge: "Go to the Achive fleet,

       Pernicious Dream, and, being arriv'd in Agamemnon's tent,

       Deliver truly all this charge. Command him to convent

       His whole host arm'd before these tow'rs; for now Troy's

       broad-way'd town

       He shall take in; the heav'n-hous'd Gods are now indiff'rent grown:

       Juno's request hath won them; Troy now under imminent ills

       At all parts labours." This charge heard, the Vision straight

       fulfils;

       The ships reach'd, and Atrides' tent, in which he found him laid,

       Divine sleep pour'd about his pow'rs. He stood above his head

       Like Nestor, grac'd of old men most, and this did intimate:

       "Sleeps the wise Atreus' tame-horse son? A councillor of state

       Must not the whole night spend in sleep, to whom the people are

       For guard committed, and whose life stands bound to so much care.

       Now hear me, then, Jove's messenger, who, though far off from thee,

       Is near thee yet in ruth and care, and gives command by me

       To arm thy whole host. Thy strong hand the broad-way'd town of Troy

       Shall now take in; no more the Gods dissentiously employ

       Their high-hous'd powers; Juno's suit hath won them all to her;

       And ill fates overhang these tow'rs, address'd by Jupiter.

       Fix in thy mind this, nor forget to give it action, when

       Sweet sleep shall leave thee." Thus, he fled; and left the king of

       men

       Repeating in discourse his dream, and dreaming still, awake,

       Of pow'r, not ready yet for act. O fool, he thought to take

       In that next day old Priam's town; not knowing what affairs

       Jove had in purpose, who prepar'd, by strong fight, sighs and cares

       For Greeks and Trojans. The Dream gone, his voice still murmured

       About the king's ears; who sate up, put on him in his bed

       His silken inner weed, fair, new; and then in haste arose,

       Cast on his ample mantle, tied to his soft feet fair shoes,

       His silver-hilted sword he hung about his shoulder, took

       His father's sceptre never stain'd, which

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