Teucer sigh’d, for all his service done. Then did Olympius, with fresh strength, the Trojan pow’rs revive, Who, to their trenches once again, the troubled Greeks did drive. Hector brought terror with his strength, and ever fought before. As when some highly stomach’d hound, that hunts a sylvan boar, Or kingly lion, loves the haunch, and pincheth oft behind, Bold of his feet, and still observes the game to turn inclin’d, Not utterly dissolv’d in flight; so Hector did pursue, And whosoever was the last, he ever did subdue, They fled, but, when they had their dike, and palisadoes, pass’d, (A number of them put to sword) at ships they stay’d at last. Then mutual exhortations flew, then, all with hands and eyes Advanc’d to, all the Gods, their plagues wrung from them open cries. Hector, with his four rich-man’d horse, assaulting always rode, The eyes of Gorgon burnt in him, and war’s vermilion God. The Goddess that all Goddesses, for snowy arms, out-shin’d, Thus spake to Pallas, to the Greeks with gracious ruth inclin’d: “O Pallas, what a grief is this! Is all our succour past To these our perishing Grecian friends? At least withheld at last, Ev’n now, when one man’s violence must make them perish all, In satisfaction of a fate so full of funeral? Hector Priamides now raves, no more to be endur’d. That hath already on the Greeks so many harms inur’d.” The azure Goddess answer’d her: “This man had surely found His fortitude and life dissolv’d, ev’n on his father’s ground, By Grecian valour, if my sire, infested with ill moods, Did not so dote on these of Troy, too jealous of their bloods, And ever an unjust repulse stands to my willing pow’rs, Little rememb’ring what I did, in all the desp’rate hours Of his affected Hercules; I ever rescu’d him, In labours of Eurystheüs, untouch’d in life or limb, When he, heav’n knows, with drownéd eyes look’d up for help to heav’n, Which ever, at command of Jove, was by my suppliance giv’n, But had my wisdom reach’d so far, to, know of this event, When to the solid-ported depths of hell his son was sent, To hale out hateful Pluto’s dog from darksome Erebus, He had not ’scap’d the streams of Styx, so deep and dangerous. Yet Jove hates me, and shows his love in doing Thetis’ will, That kiss’d his knees, and strok’d his chin, pray’d, and importun’d till, That he would honour with his aid her city-razing son, Displeas’d Achilles; and for him our friends are thus undone. But time shall come again, when he, to do his friends some aid, Will call me his Glaucopides, his sweet and blue-eyed Maid. Then harness thou thy horse for me, that his bright palace gates I soon may enter, arming me, to order these debates; And I will try if Priam’s son will still maintain his cheer, When in the crimson paths of war, I dreadfully appear; For some proud Trojans shall be sure to nourish dogs and fowls, And pave the shore with fat and flesh, depriv’d of lives and souls.” Juno prepar’d her horse, whose manes ribands of gold enlac’d.