Book XV

TELEM ACHUS, in the mean time, was difplaying his courage among the perils of war. As soon as he had quitted Salentum, he apphed himself with great diUgence to gain the cfleem of the old commanders, whose reputation and experience were confummate. Neftor, who had before seen him at Pyios, and who had always loved Ulysses, treated him as if he had been his son; he gave him many leflbns of inflrudlion, and illuflrated his precepts by examples. He related all the adventures of his youth, and told him the moil remarkable atchicvements which he had seen performed by the heroes of the preceding age; for the memory of Neftor, who had lived to see three generations, . contained the history of ancient times, with the fame fidelity as an infciiption upon marble or brafs. <

N a Philodtetes

Philo(5letes did not at first regard Telemaciius with the fame kindness: the enmity which he had fo long cherished in his breast againfl: Ulysses, prejudiced him against his son, and he could not see without pain that the Gods appeared to interest themfclves in his fortunes, and to intend him a glory equal to that of the heroes by whom Troy had been overthrown. But the unaiTedted modesty of Telemachus at length furmounted his refentment, and he could not but love that virtue which appeared fo amiable and sweet. He frequently took him aside, and talked to him with the mod unreferved confidence: " My son, said he, for I now make no fcruple to call you fo, I must confess that your father and I have been long enemies to each other. I acknowledge also that my enmity was not foftened by mutual danger and mutual success, for it continued unabated after we had laid Troy in ruins; and when I saw you, I found it difficult to love even virtue in the son of Ulysses. I have often reproached myself for this reluctance, which, however, I Hill felt: but virtue, when it is gentle, placid, ingenuous, and unafTuming, must at last compel afFedlion and cdccm." Philo6letes, in the course of these converfations, was infenfibly led to acquaint Telemachus, with what had given rise to the animofity between him and Ulysses.

" It is necessary, said he, that I should tell my flory from the beginning. I was the infeparable companion of Hercules, the great example of divine virtue, the deftroyer of monflers, whose prowefs was ableffingto the earth; and, compared with whom, all other heroes are but as reeds to the oak, or fparrows to the eagle. Love, a passion that has produced every species of calamity, was the cause of his misfortunes; and his misfortunes were the cause of mine. To this fhameful passion, the virtues of Hercules were opposed in vain; and, after all his conquefts, he was himself the fport

1^ O O K XV. 275fport of Cupid. He never remembered, without a blufli of ingenuous shame, his having laid by his dignity, to fpin in the chamber of Omphale, hke the moH abje(5l and effeminate of men: he has frequently deplored this part of his life, as having fullied his virtue, and obfcurcd the glory of his laboursL- sfndr'yet, such is the weakness and inconfiftcncy of man, who thinks himself alL sufficient, and yet yields without a struggle; the great Hercules was again taken in the;Jnarejof Jpve, and funk again into a captivity, which he had fo often remembered with indignation and contempt. He became enamoured of Deianira, and would have been happy if he had continued conflant in his paflion for this woman, whom he made his wife; but the youthful beauty of lole, to whom the Graces had given all their charms, soon feduced him to a new passion. Deianira became jealous; and unhappily recolledled the fatal garment, which had been given her by NeiTus, the Centaur, when he was dying, as a certain means of reviving the love of Hercules, if he should ever negle6l her for another. This garment had imbibed the blood of the Centaur, to which •the arrow that slew him had communicated its poison; for the arrows of Hercules were dipped in the blood of the Lerncean Hydra, which gave them a malignity fo powerful, that the flightcfl: wound they could make v/as mortal.

" As soon as Hercules had put on the garment, he felt the poison burn even to the marrow in the bone: he cried out, in his agony, with a voice more than human; the found was returned by mount Oeta, the echo deepened in the vallies, and the fca itself seemed to be moved. The roar of the most furious bulls when they fight, was not fo dreadful as the cries of Hercules! Lycas, who brought him the garment from Deianira, happening imfortunately to approach him, he seized him in the difI;ra6lion of his torments, and whirling him round, as a llinger whi'rls a stone that he would

N n 2 difmifs difmifs with all his strength, he threw him from the top of the mountain j and falling into the sea, he was immediately tranfformed to a rock, which Hill retains the figure of a man, and which flill beaten by the furge, alarms the pilot, while he is yet dillant from the shore.

" After the fate of Lycas, I thought I could trust Hercules nc> more; and, therefore, endeavoured to conceal myself in the caverns of the rock. From this retreat, I saw him, with one hand, root up the lofty pines that towered to the sky, and oaks which had repelled the florms of successive generations; and, with the ether, endeavour to tear off the fatal garment which adhered like another fkin, and seemed to be incorporated with his body: in proportion as he tore it off, he tore off also the ilefh; his blood followed in a torrent, and the earth was impurpled round him. But his virtue at length furmounted his sense of pain, and he cried out, " Thou art witness, O Philodetes! to the torments, which the Gods inflidl upon me, and they are just: I have offended Heaven, and violated the vows of connubial love; after all my conquefts, I have meanly given up my heart to forbidden beauty: I perish, and am content to perish, that Divine justice may be satisfied. But alas, my dear friend! whither art thou fled! Tranfported by excess of pain, I have, indeed, destroyed unhappy Lycas, by an a<5l of cruelty for which I abhor myself: he was a fl;ranger to the poison that he brought me; he committed no crime, he deserved no punishment. But could the sacred tics of friendship be forgotten! could I attempt the life of Philodtetes! My love for him, can cease only with my life; into his breast, will I breathe my departiug spirit; and to his care, will I confide my allies. Where art thou, then, my dear Philocftetes? where art thou, Philodetes, the only objccft of my hope on earth?"

« Struck

*< Struck with this tender expoftulation, I ruflicd towards him, and he stretched out his arms to embrace me: yet, before I reached him, he drew them back, left he should kindle in my bosom the fatal fires that consumed his own. " Alas! said he, even this consolation is denied me!" He then turned from me; and colle<5ling all the trees that he had rooted up, into a funeral pile upon the fummit of the mountain, he ascended it with a kind of dreadful tranquillity: he spread, under him, the fkin of the Nemean lion, which, while he was traverfmg the earth, from one extremity to the other, destroying monfters, and fuccouring distress, he had worn as a mantle; and reclining upon his club, he coinmanded me to set fire to the wood. This command, though I trembled with horror, I could not refuse to obey; for his misery was fo great, that life was no longer a bounty of Heaven; and I feared, that, in the extremity of his torment, he might do fomcthing unworthy of the virtue which had astonished the world.

" When he perceived that the pile had taken fire; " Now, said he, my dear Philotftetcs! I know that thy friendship is finccre; for my honour is dearer to thee, than my life: may thy reward be from Heaven! I give thee all I can bcftow: these arrows, dipped in the blood of the Lcrnsean Hydra, I valued more than all that I poflefled; and they are thine. Thou knowest, that the wounds which they make, are mortal: they rendered me invincible, and fo they will render thee; nor will any man dare to lift up his hand against thee. Remember, that I die faithful to our friendship; and forget not how close I held thee to my heart. If thou art, indeed, touched with my misfortunes, there is still one consolation in thy power; promise to acquaint no man with my death, and never to reveal the place where thou shalt hide my ashes. I proniifed, in an agony of tenderness and grief; and I consecrated my promise by an oath. A beam of joy fparkled in his eyes; but a iheet

278 B O O K XV.

fl:ieet of flame immediately surrounded him, ftifled his voice, and almost hid him from my fight: I caught, however, a glimpfe of him through the flame; and I perceived, that his countenance was as ferene, as if he had been surrounded with feftivity and joy at the banquet of a friend, covered with perfume, and crowned with flowers.

" The flames quickly consumed his terreflrial and mortal part; of that nature, which he had received from his mother Alcmena, there were no remains; but he preserved, by the decree of Jove, that pure and immortal eflence, that celestial flame, the true principle of life, which he had received from the Father of the Gods: with the Gods, therefore, he drank immortality under the golden roofs of Olympus, and they gave him Hebe to wife; the lovely Hebe, the Goddefs of youth, who had filled the bowl of Ne6lar to Jupiter, before that honour was bellowed upon Ganymede.

" In the mean time, the arrows that had been given me as a pledge of superior prowefs and fame, proved an inexhauftible source of misforttme. When the confederate princes of Greece undertook to revenge the wrong done to Menelaus by Paris, who had bafely ftolen away Helen, and to lay the kingdom of Priam in rnins; they learned from the oracle of Apollo, that, in this enterprife, they would never succeed, if they did not take with them the arrows of Hercules.

" Your father Ulysses, whose penetration and acflivity rendered him superior in every council, undertook to persuade me to accompany them to the siege of Troy; and to take the arrows of Flercules, which he believed to be in my polleffion, with me. It was now long, since Hercules had appeared in the world; no exploit of the hero was related; and monftcrs and robbers began to appear with 4 impunity.

impunity. The Greeks knew not what opinion to form concerning him: some afHrmccl, that he was dead; others, that he was gone tofubdue the Scythians under the frozen bear; but Ulysses maintained that he was dead, and engaged to make me confess it. He came to mc, while I was still lamenting the loss of my illustrious friend with inconfolable sorrow; he found it extremely difficult to Ipeak to me, for I avoided the fight of mankind; I could not think of quitting the' defarts of mount Octa, where I had been witness to the death of Alcides; and was wholly employed in forming his image in my mind, and weeping at the remembrance of his sufferings, which every view of these mournful places renewed. But, upon the lips of your father, there was a sweet and irrefiftible eloquence: he fecmed to take an equal part in my affliction, and when I wept, he wept with me; he gaTRed upon my heart,> by an- infenfible approach -, and he obtained my confidence, even before I knew it. He intercfled my tenderness for the- Grecian princes, who had undertaken a jufl: Avar, in which, without me, they could not be successful: he could not, however, draw from me the secret that I had fworn to keep; but, though I did not confess it, he had sufficient evidence that Hercules was dead, and he preffed me to tell him where I had concealed his allies.

" I could not think of perjury, without horror:: and yet, alas!' I eluded the vow that I had made to Hercules and to Heaven. I discovered the place, v/here I had depofited the remains of the hero, by fti'iking it with my foot; and the Gods have punished me for the fraud. I then joined the confederates, who received me with as much joy, as they would have received Hercules himself. When we were on shore at the island of Lemnos, I waswilling to £how the Greeks what my arrows would do; and, therefore, prepared to Ihoot a deer, which I saw xuQx into the forefl y but.

but, by some accident, I let the fhaft flip out of my hand, and falling upon my foot, it gave me a wound, of which I still feel the efFecfts. I was immediately seized with the fame pains, that had dcftroyed Hercules; and the echoes of the island repeated my complaints day and night. A black and corrupted blood flowed inccfTantly from my wound, infecfled the air, and filled the camp with an intolerable flench: the whole army was flruck with horror at my condition, and concluded it to be the just punishment of the Gods.

" Ulysses, who had engaged me in the expedition, was the firfl to abandon me, as I have fmce learned, because he preferred victory and the common interefl of Greece, to private friendship, and the punctilios of decorum. The horror of my wound, the infedlion that it spread, and the dreadful cries that it forced from me, produced such an efFe£t upon the army, that it was no longer pofTible to sacrifice in the camp. But when the Greeks abandoned me by the counsel of Ulysses, I considered his policy, as the most aggravated inhumanity, and the bafell breach of faith. I was blinded by prejudice and self-love; and did not perceive, that the wifell men were most against me, and that the Gods themselves were become my enemies.

" I remained, during almost the whole time that Troy was befieged, alone, without fuccour, without consolation, without hope; the vi<5tim of intolerable anguish, in a desolate island, where I saw no objedl but the rude productions of uncultivated nature, and heard only the roaring of the furge that was broken against the rocks. In one of the mountains of this defart, I found a cavern: the fummit, which towered to the skies, was divided into a fork; and, at the bottom, was a spring of clear water. This:Cavern, my only dwelling, was the retreat of wildbeafts, of various 3 kinds,