well her natives merit at thy hand! Not one of all the race, nor sex, nor age, Shall save a Trojan from our boundless rage: Ilion shall perish whole, and bury all; Her babes, her infants at the breast, shall fall;(165) A dreadful lesson of exampled fate, To warn the nations, and to curb the great!" The monarch spoke; the words, with warmth address'd, To rigid justice steel'd his brother's breast Fierce from his knees the hapless chief he thrust; The monarch's javelin stretch'd him in the dust, Then pressing with his foot his panting heart, Forth from the slain he tugg'd the reeking dart. Old Nestor saw, and roused the warrior's rage; "Thus, heroes! thus the vigorous combat wage; No son of Mars descend, for servile gains, To touch the booty, while a foe remains. Behold yon glittering host, your future spoil! First gain the conquest, then reward the toil." And now had Greece eternal fame acquired, And frighted Troy within her walls, retired, Had not sage Helenus her state redress'd, Taught by the gods that moved his sacred breast. Where Hector stood, with great Ćneas join'd, The seer reveal'd the counsels of his mind: "Ye generous chiefs! on whom the immortals lay The cares and glories of this doubtful day; On whom your aids, your country's hopes depend; Wise to consult, and active to defend! Here, at our gates, your brave efforts unite, Turn back the routed, and forbid the flight, Ere yet their wives' soft arms the cowards gain, The sport and insult of the hostile train. When your commands have hearten'd every band, Ourselves, here fix'd, will make the dangerous stand; Press'd as we are, and sore of former fight, These straits demand our last remains of might. Meanwhile thou, Hector, to the town retire, And teach our mother what the gods require: Direct the queen to lead the assembled train Of Troy's chief matrons to Minerva's fane;(166) Unbar the sacred gates, and seek the power,