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. The literature of all nations and all ages; history, character, and incident . nd hurt, he fliesThrough empty courts and open Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues,And often reaches, and his thrusts youth transfixd, with lamentable cries,Expires before his wretched parents eyes:Whom gasping at his feet when Priam fear of death gave place to natures law; * Pyrrhus, called also Neoptolemus, was the son of Achilles. 124 LITERATURE OP , NATIONS. And, shaking more with anger than with age,The gods, said he, requite thy brutal rage!As sure they will, barbaria
. The literature of all nations and all ages; history, character, and incident . nd hurt, he fliesThrough empty courts and open Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues,And often reaches, and his thrusts youth transfixd, with lamentable cries,Expires before his wretched parents eyes:Whom gasping at his feet when Priam fear of death gave place to natures law; * Pyrrhus, called also Neoptolemus, was the son of Achilles. 124 LITERATURE OP , NATIONS. And, shaking more with anger than with age,The gods, said he, requite thy brutal rage!As sure they will, barbarian, sure they must,If there be gods in heaven, and gods be just—Who takst in wrongs an insolent delight;With a sons death t infect a fathers he, whom thou and lying fame conspireTo call thee his—not he, thy vaunted usd my wretched age: the gods he feared,The laws of nature and of nations cheerd my sorrows, and, for sums of gold,The bloodless carcass of my Hector sold;Pitied the woes a parent underwent,And sent me back in safety from his tent. *. This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw,Which fluttring, seemed to loiter as it flew;Just, and but barely, to the mark it faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. Then Pyrrhus thus: Hence, dotard! meet thy fate,And to my father my foul deeds die !—^With that he draggd the trembling sire,Sliddring through clottered blood and holy mire(The mingled mire his murderd son had made),Haled from beneath the violated shade,And on the sacred pile the royal victim laid,His right hand held his bloody falchion bare; * See Volume I., pp. 166-169. I,ATIN UTERATURB. 125 His left he twisted in his hoary hair:Then, with a speeding thrust, his heart he found:The lukewarm blood came rushing through the wound,And sanguine streams distained the sacred Priam fell, and shard one common fate- With Troy in ashes, and his ruind state—He, who the sceptre of all Asia monarchs like domesti
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