Fear not, my child! stern as mine accent was,45 I forced a frown—no more. For in mine heart Nought feel I but benevolence to thee. He said, and to his chariot join’d his steeds Swift, brazen-hoof’d, and mailed with wavy gold; He put on golden raiment, his bright scourge50 Of gold receiving rose into his seat, And lash’d his steeds; they not unwilling flew Midway the earth between and starry heaven. To spring-fed Ida, mother of wild beasts, He came, where stands in Gargarus[3] his shrine55 Breathing fresh incense! there the Sire of all Arriving, loosed his coursers, and around Involving them in gather’d clouds opaque, Sat on the mountain’s head, in his own might Exulting, with the towers of Ilium all60 Beneath his eye, and the whole fleet of Greece. In all their tents, meantime, Achaia’s sons Took short refreshment, and for fight prepared. On the other side, though fewer, yet constrain’d By strong necessity, throughout all Troy,65 In the defence of children and wives Ardent, the Trojans panted for the field. Wide flew the city gates: forth rush’d to war Horsemen and foot, and tumult wild arose. They met, they clash’d; loud was the din of spears70 And bucklers on their bosoms brazen-mail’d Encountering, shields in opposition from Met bossy shields, and tumult wild arose.[4] There many a shout and many a dying groan Were heard, the slayer and the maim’d aloud75 Clamoring, and the earth was drench’d with blood. Till sacred morn[5] had brighten’d into noon, The vollied weapons on both sides their task Perform’d effectual, and the people fell. But when the sun had climb’d the middle skies,80 The Sire of all then took his golden scales;[6] Doom against doom he weigh’d, the eternal fates In counterpoise, of Trojans and of Greeks. He rais’d the beam; low sank the heavier lot Of the Achaians; the Achaian doom85 Subsided, and the Trojan struck the skies. Then roar’d the thunders from the summit hurl’d of Ida, and his vivid lightnings flew Into Achaia’s host. They at the sight Astonish’d stood; fear whiten’d every cheek.[7]90 Idomeneus dared not himself abide That shock, nor Agamemnon stood, nor stood The heroes Ajax, ministers of Mars. Gerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, Alone fled not, nor he by choice remain’d,95 But by his steed retarded, which the mate Of beauteous Helen, Paris, with a shaft Had stricken where the forelock grows, a part Of all most mortal. Tortured by the wound Erect he rose, the arrow in his brain,100 And writhing furious, scared his fellow-steeds. Meantime, while, strenuous, with his falchion’s edge The hoary warrior stood slashing the reins, Through multitudes of fierce pursuers borne On rapid wheels, the dauntless charioteer105 Approach’d him, Hector. Then, past hope, had died The ancient King, but Diomede discern’d His peril imminent, and with a voice Like thunder, called Ulysses to his aid. Laertes’ noble son, for wiles renown’d!110 Art thou too fugitive, and turn’st thy back Like the base multitude? Ah! fear a lance