No interdicted Pleasures did I prove,

Nor waft thou, Offspring of incestuous Love.
Focafta's Sons command the deathful Plain,

Fate gives the Scepter, and fhe fees them reign.
Let us for this ill-omen'd War atone,

1145

That they may mount by Turns the fully'd Throne.
(This pleases thee, O Cloud-compelling Jove)
Why cenfure I or Men or Gods above?
Tis thou, Menaceus, who has caus'd my Fall;
On thee it refts, the guilty Source of all.

1150
From whence this Love of Death, that feiz'd thy Mind,
And holy Rage? how diff'rent in their Kind
From their fad Mother thefe my Children prove,
Fruits of my Throes, and Pledges of my Love!
Full well alafs! the fatal Cause I read
In the fell Snake, and War-producing Mead:
Hence headstrong Valour, impotent of Reft,
Ufurp'd my Share in Guidance of thy Breast,

And, unconstrain'd, nay 'gainst the Will of Fate,

1155

Thou wing'ft thy Way to Pluto's gloomy State. 1160
Much of the Greeks and Capaneus I hear'd;
Yet this, this Hand alone was to be fear'd,
And Weapon, which imprudently I gave:
Yet why? It was fit Prefent for the Brave
See, the wide Wound absorbs the Length of Sword,
Deep as the fierceft Argive could have gor❜d.
More had she said, unknowing Check or Bound,
And fadden'd with her Wailings all around;
But her confoling Comrades homeward led

1166

Th' unwilling Dame, and plac'd her on the Bed: 1170 There, her torn Cheeks fuffus'd with Blood, fhe lay, Deaf to Advice, and fickn'ing at the Day;

And,

And, her Voice gone, and all confus'd her Mind,
Still kept her languid Eyes on Earth declin❜d.
The Scythian Tigrefs thus beneath fome Cave
For her stol'n Whelps is often feen to rave,
And, couching at the vafty Mouth alone,
Scents the fresh Trace, and licks the tepid Stone.
Her Hunger, Wrath, and native Rage fubfide,
In Grief confum'd.-Securely by her Side,
With paffive Impotency fhe furveys

1175

1180

The Flocks and Herds on verdant Pasture graze,
For where are those, for whom the now fhou'd feed
Her Dugs, and range, in queft of Prey, the Mead.
Thus far have Arms and Death adorn'd our lays, 1185
And War's grim Horrors been a Theme of Praise :
Now be the Song to Capaneus transferr❜d.

No more I grovel with the vulgar Herd,

v. 1175. The Scythian Tigrefs thus] The Grief of Menæceus's Mother for the Lofs of her Son, is aptly enough pourtray'd by this Simile of the Tigrefs; the Hint of it may have poffibly been taken from the following Comparison in the Eighteenth Book of Homer's Iliad.

Ωστερ λῖς ἠυγένεια

Ωὶ ῥά θ ̓ ὑπὸ σκύμνος ἐλαφηβόλο ἁρπάση ἀνὴρ

Ὕλης ἐκ πυκινῆς. ὁ δέ τ ̓ ἄχνεται ὕσερα ἐλθών.

기

Πολλὰ δὲ τ ̓ ἄγχε ̓ ἐπῆλθε μετ' ανέρθ· ἴχνι ἐρευνῶν,

Εἴποθεν ἐξεύροι· μάλα γάρ δριμὺς χόλον αίρεῖ. Verfe 318.

This is natural enough, but the Images contained in

Eunt

Tepidi lambit veftigia faxi.

præter fecura armenta, gregefque

Aut quos ingenti premat expectata rapina.

Are perhaps equal to any thing in the Homeric Allufion.

v. 1185. Thus far have Arms] The Poet raises the Character of his Hero very much by this Invocation. One Mufe fuffic'd before, but he now fummons all the Nine, by which the Grandeur of the Subject is very much enhanced, and the Difficulty of finging his great Exploits very ftrongly imaged.

But,

1190

1195

But, catching Fury from th' Aonian Grove,
Uncircumfcrib'd, thro' Realms of Æther rove.
With me, ye Mufes, prove the high Event.-
Whether from deepest Night this Rage was fent,
Or the dire Furies, rang'd beneath his Sign,
Impell'd him to confront the Pow'rs divine,
Or Rashness urg'd him on, or Luft of Fame,
Which woos by per❜lous Feats a deathless Name,
Or Preludes of Succefs, Heav'n sent to draw
The guilty Wretch, to break calm Caution's law;
He loaths all earthly Joys; the Rage of Fight
Palls on his Soul, and Slaughter fhocks his Sight:
And, all his Quiver spent, he lifts on high
His weary Arm, and points it to the Sky,
He rolls his wrathful Eyes round, metes the Height,
Of the tall Rampires, and th' unnumber'd Flight
Of Steps, and ftrait of two compacted Trees,
A Ladder forms, to scale the Walls with Ease.
Now, dreadful from afar, he bares to View
A clefted Oak, that lighten'd as he flew:
His burnifh'd Arms too ruddy Splendors yield,
And the Flame kindles on his blazing Shield.
Virtue directs me by this Path (he cry'd)
To Thebes, by which the flipp'ry Tow'r is dy'd
With brave Menaceus' Blood.-Then let me try,
If facred Rites avail, or Phebus lie.

120I

1205

1210

He faid, and, mounting up the captive Wall 1215 By Steps alternate, menaces its Fall.

Such in mid Air the fierce Alcide show'd,

When Earth's bold Sons with vain Ambition glow'd, Ere Pelion (hideous Height) was hurl'd above,

Or Offa caft a Shade on trembling Jove.

1220

Th' aftonish'd

Th' aftonish'd Thebans then, on th' utmost Verge
Of fated Ruin, the fharp Contest urge,

Nor lefs, than if Bellona, Torch in Hand,

Was bent to fire their Town, and waste their Land,
Huge Beams and Stones from ev'ry Quarter fling,
And ply with Hafte the Balearic Sling:

(For now no Hope, no Dawn of Safety lies

1226

1239

1235

In Darts, and random Shafts, that wing the Skies)
Vaft Engines too, in Paffion's giddy Whirl,
And maffy Fragments at the Foe they hurl.
The Weapons, that from ev'ry Part are thrown,
Deter him not, nor fetch the Warrior down :
Hanging in empty Air, his Steps he guides,
Secure of Danger, and with longfome Strides,
As on plain Ground, maintains an equal Pace,
Tho' Death on all Sides ftares him in the Face.
Thus fome deep River, thund'ring in it's Course,
Turns on an aged Bridge its watry Force:
And, as the loofen'd Stones and Beams give Way,
Doubles its Rage, and ftrives to wash away
The Mafs inert, nor ceafes, till it fees
Th' obftructing Pile difpers'd, and flows with Eafe.
Soon as he reach'd the Turret's long-fought Height
(Tho' leffen'd, yet confpicuous to the Sight)
And fcar'd the Thebans with his bulky Shade,
He caft a downward Look, and vaunting said.

་

1240

1245

v. 1237. Thus fome deep River] I know nothing that can give us a more terrible Idea of Capaneus affaulting the Theban Fortifications, than this Comparison of a River's beating with Violence against a Bridge: There is great Majefty of Style, and Variety of Images in it, and the Simile itself contains fuch an exact Point of Likeness, as cannot fail of pleafing every Reader of Taste.

Are

Are these the Bulwarks then, is this the Wall,
That erft obey'd Amphion's tuneful Call?

Are these the fabled Theme, and storied Boast
Of Thebes? fhall these oppose our conq'ring Hoft? 1250
What Honour, tho' beneath our frequent Stroke
These Lyre-constructed Tow'rs fhould yield?—he spoke,
And with his Hands and Feet faft-hurling down

The Coins and Beams compacted, lays the Town
Part-open. Then the Bridge-form'd Works divide,
And the Stone-Joifts from off the Ridges flide. 1256
The Fortress broken down, again he takes
Advantage of the Ruin, which he makes,
And, gath'ring rocky Fragments, as they fall,
Destroys the Town with its own shiver'd Wall.
Meantime round Jove's bright Throne the Pow'rs divine
For Thebes and Greece in fierce Contention join:
To both alike impartial, he defcries

Their animated Wrath with careless Eyes.
Restrain'd by Juno, Bacchus inly groans;
Then, glancing at his Sire, he thus bemoans.
O fove, where is that cruel Hand, which aims
The forked Bolt, and lanches livid Flames,
My Cradle once?-Sol for thofe Manfions fighs,
Which erft he gave to Cadmus, as a Prize.
His equal Love fad Hercules extends

1260

1265

1270

To both, and doubts, whilst yet his Bow he bends;

v. 1261. Mean time round Jove's bright Throne] Statius gives the Greeks the fame auxiliary Deities as Homer does. In this Particular he has shewn great Judgment, but ftill greater, in not imitating the ridiculous Battle of the Gods, which characterises the Twentyfirft Book of the Iliad.

v. 1269. My Cradle once] The Poet alludes to the fuppofed Notion, that Bacchus was taken out of Jupiter's Thigh.