ANOTHER ARGUMENT In Zeta, Hector prophesies; Prays for his son; wills sacrifice. The stern fight freed of all the Gods, conquest with doubtful wings Flew on their lances; ev’ry way the restless field she flings Betwixt the floods of Simois and Xanthus, that confin’d All their affairs of Ilion, and round about them shin’d. The first that weigh’d down all the field, of one particular side, Was Ajax, son of Telamon; who, like a bulwark, plied The Greeks’ protection, and of Troy the knotty orders brake, Held out a light to all the rest, and showed them how to make Way to their conquest, He did wound the strongest man of Thrace, The tallest and the biggest set, Eussorian Acamas; His lance fell on his casque’s plum’d top, in stooping; the fell head Drave through his forehead to his jaws; his eyes night shadowéd. Tydides slew Teuthranides Axylus, that did dwell, In fair Arisba’s well-built tow’rs. He had of wealth a well, And yet was kind and bountiful; he would a traveller pray To be his guest, his friendly house stood in the broad highway, In which he all sorts nobly us’d; yet none of them would stand ‘Twixt him and death, but both himself, and he that had command Of his fair horse, Calesius, fell lifeless on the ground. Euryalus, Opheltius and Dresus dead did wound; Nor ended there his fi’ry course, which he again begins, And ran to it successfully, upon a pair of twins, Æsepus, and bold Pedasus, whom good Bucolion (That first call’d father, though base-born, renown’d Laomedon) On Nais Abarbaræa got, a nymph that, as she fed Her curléd flocks, Bucolion woo’d, and mix’d in love and bed. Both these were spoiled of arms and life, by Mecistiades. Then Polypœtes, for stern death, Astyalus did seize; Ulysses slew Percosius; Teucer Aretaön; Antilochus (old Nestor’s joy) Ablerus; the great son Of Atreüs, and king of men, Elatus, whose abode: He held at upper Pedasus, where Satnius’ river flowed; The great heroë Leitus stay’d Phylacus in flight From further life; Eurypylus, Melanthius reft of light. The brother to the king of men, Adrestus took alive; Whose horse, affrighted with the flight, their driver now did drive Amongst the low-grown tam’risk trees, and at an arm of one The chariot in the draught-tree brake; the horse brake loose, and ron The same way other flyers fled, contending all to town; Himself close at the chariot wheel, upon his face was thrown, And there lay flat, rolled up in dust. Atrides inwards drave; And, holding at his breast his lance, Adrestus sought to save His head by losing of his feet, and trusting to his knees; On which the same parts of the king he hugs, and offers fees Of worthy value for his life, and thus pleads their receipt: “Take me alive, O Atreus’ son, and take a worthy weight Of brass, elab’rate iron, and gold.[1] A heap of precious things Are in my father’s riches hid, which, when your servant brings News of my safety to his ears, he largely will divide