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Unseen she came, and burst the golden band;
And left an empty helmet in his hand.
The casque, enraged, amidst the Greeks he threw;
The Greeks with smiles the polish’d trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly dart,
In thirst of vengeance, at his rival’s heart;
The queen of love her favour’d champion shrouds
(For gods can all things) in a veil of clouds.
Raised from the field the panting youth she led,
And gently laid him on the bridal bed,
With pleasing sweets his fainting sense renews,
And all the dome perfumes with heavenly dews.
Meantime the brightest of the female kind,
The matchless Helen, o’er the walls reclined;
To her, beset with Trojan beauties, came,
In borrow’d form, the laughter-loving dame.
(She seem’d an ancient maid, well-skill’d to cull
The snowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The goddess softly shook her silken vest,
That shed perfumes, and whispering thus address’d:
“Haste, happy nymph! for thee thy Paris calls,
Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls,
Fair as a god; with odours round him spread,
He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed;
Not like a warrior parted from the foe,
But some gay dancer in the public show.”
She spoke, and Helen’s secret soul was moved;
She scorn’d the champion, but the man she loved.
Fair Venus’ neck, her eyes that sparkled fire,
And breast, reveal’d the queen of soft desire.
Struck with her presence, straight the lively red
Forsook her cheek; and trembling, thus she said:
“Then is it still thy pleasure to deceive?
And woman’s frailty always to believe!
Say, to new nations must I cross the main,
Or carry wars to some soft Asian plain?
For whom must Helen break her second vow?
What other Paris is thy darling now?
Left to Atrides, (victor in the strife,)
An odious conquest and a captive wife,
Hence let me sail; and if thy Paris bear
My absence ill, let Venus ease his care.
A handmaid goddess at his side to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state,
Be fix’d for ever to the Trojan shore,
His spouse, or slave; and mount the skies no more.
For me, to lawless love no longer led,
I scorn the coward, and detest his bed;
Else should I merit everlasting shame,
And keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame:
Ill suits it now the joys of love to know,
Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe.”
Then thus incensed, the Paphian queen replies:
“Obey the power from whom thy glories rise:
Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fly,
Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye.
Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more
The world’s aversion, than their love before;
Now the bright prize for which mankind engage,
Than, the sad victim, of the public rage.”
At this, the fairest of her sex obey’d,
And veil’d her blushes in a silken shade;
Unseen, and silent, from the train she moves,
Led by the goddess of the Smiles and Loves.
Arrived, and enter’d at the palace gate,
The maids officious round their mistress wait;
Then, all dispersing, various tasks attend;
The queen and goddess to the prince ascend.
Full in her Paris’ sight, the queen of love
Had placed the beauteous progeny of Jove;
Where, as he view’d her charms, she turn’d away
Her glowing eyes, and thus began to say:
“Is this the chief, who, lost to sense of shame,
Late fled the field, and yet survives his fame?
O hadst thou died beneath the righteous sword
Of that brave man whom once I call’d my lord!
The boaster Paris oft desired the day
With Sparta’s king to meet in single fray:
Go now, once more thy rival’s rage excite,
Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight:
Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill’d
Shouldst fall an easy conquest on the field.”
The prince replies: “Ah cease, divinely fair,
Nor add reproaches to the wounds I bear;
This day the foe prevail’d by Pallas’ power:
We yet may vanquish in a happier hour:
There want not gods to favour us above;
But let the business of our life be love:
These softer moments let delights employ,
And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy.
Not thus I loved thee, when from Sparta’s shore
My forced, my willing heavenly prize I bore,
When first entranced in Cranae’s isle I lay,
Mix’d with thy soul, and all dissolved away!”
Thus having spoke, the enamour’d Phrygian boy
Rush’d to the bed, impatient for the joy.
Him Helen follow’d slow with bashful charms,
And clasp’d the blooming hero in her arms.
While these to love’s delicious rapture yield,
The stern Atrides rages round the field:
