Against the King himself some fatal aim, And full of war to his pavilion came. Now here she rush’d, now there; and had she been But duly prudent, she had slipp’d between, 530 With course oblique, into the fourth white square, And the long toil of war had ended there, The King had fallen, and all his sable state; And vanquish’d Hermes cursed his partial fate. For thence with ease the championess might go, 535 Murder the King, and none could ward the blow. With silence, Hermes, and with panting heart, Perceived the danger, but with subtle art, (Lest he should see the place) spurs on the foe, Confounds his thoughts, and blames his being slow. 540 For shame! move on; would you for ever stay? What sloth is this, what strange perverse delay?— How could you e’er my little pausing blame?— What! you would wait till night shall end the game? Phoebus, thus nettled, with imprudence slew 545 A vulgar Pawn, but lost his nobler view. Young Hermes leap’d, with sudden joy elate; And then, to save the monarch from his fate, Led on his martial Knight, who stepp’d between, Pleased that his charge was to oppose the Queen— 550 Then, pondering how the Indian beast to slay, That stopp’d the Foot from making farther way,— From being made a Queen; with slanting aim An archer struck him; down the monster came, And dying shook the earth: while Phoebus tries 555 Without success the monarch to surprise. The Foot, then uncontroll’d with instant pride, Seized the last spot, and moved a royal bride. And now with equal strength both war again, And bring their second wives upon the plain; 560 Then, though with equal views each hop’d and fear’d, Yet, as if every doubt had disappear’d, As if he had the palm, young Hermes flies Into excess of joy; with deep disguise, Extols his own Black troops, with frequent spite 565 And with invective taunts disdains the White. Whom Phoebus thus reproved with quick return— As yet we cannot the decision learn Of this dispute, and do you triumph now? Then your big words and vauntings I’ll allow, 570 When you the battle shall completely gain; At present I shall make your boasting vain. He said, and forward led the daring Queen; Instant the fury of the bloody scene Rises tumultuous, swift the warriors fly 575 From either side to conquer or to die. They front the storm of war: around ’em Fear, Terror, and Death, perpetually appear. All meet in arms, and man to man oppose, Each from their camp attempts to drive their foes; 580 Each tries by turns to force the hostile lines; Chance and impatience blast their best designs. The sable Queen spread terror as she went Through the mid ranks: with more reserved intent The adverse dame declined the open fray, 585 And to the King in private stole away: Then took the royal guard, and bursting in, With fatal menace close besieged the King.