If still he will persist, and urge the Strife,
First let him give me back his forfeit Life:
Let him return to that opprobrious Field;
Again creep under my protecting Shield:
Let him lie wounded, let the Foe be near,
And let his quiv'ring Heart confess his Fear;
There put him in the very Jaws of Fate;
And let him plead his Cause in that Estate:
And yet when snatch'd from Death, when from below
My lifted Shield I loos'd, and let him go;
Good Heav'ns, how light he rose, with what a bound
He sprung from Earth, forgetful of his Wound;
How fresh, how eager then his Feet to ply;
Who had not Strength to stand, had Speed to fly!
Hector came on, and brought the Gods along;
Fear seiz'd alike the Feeble, and the Strong:
Each Greek was an Ulysses; such a Dread
Th' Approach, and ev'n the Sound of Hector bred:
Him, flesh'd with Slaughter, and with Conquest crown'd,
I met, and over-turn'd him to the Ground;
When after, matchless as he deem'd in Might,
He challeng'd all our Host to single Fight;
All Eyes were fix'd on me: The Lots were thrown;
But for your Champion I was wish'd alone:
Your Vows were heard; we fought, and neither yield;
Yet I return'd unvanquish'd from the Field.
With Jove to friend th' insulting Trojan came,
And menac'd us with Force, our Fleet with Flame.
Was it the Strength of this Tongue-valiant Lord,
In that black Hour, that sav'd you from the Sword?
Or was my Breast expos'd alone, to brave
A thousand Swords, a thousand Ships to save?
The hopes of your return! And can you yield,
For a sav'd Fleet, less than a single Shield?
Think it no Boast, O Grecians, if I deem
These Arms want Ajax, more than Ajax them:
Or,
