line, Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire; Their lives effused around thy flaming pyre. Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely press'd, Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast! While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay, Weep all the night and murmur all the day: Spoils of my arms, and thine; when, wasting wide, Our swords kept time, and conquer'd side by side." He spoke, and bade the sad attendants round Cleanse the pale corse, and wash each honour'd wound. A massy caldron of stupendous frame They brought, and placed it o'er the rising flame: Then heap'd the lighted wood; the flame divides Beneath the vase, and climbs around the sides: In its wide womb they pour the rushing stream; The boiling water bubbles to the brim. The body then they bathe with pious toil, Embalm the wounds, anoint the limbs with oil, High on a bed of state extended laid, And decent cover'd with a linen shade; Last o'er the dead the milk-white veil they threw; That done, their sorrows and their sighs renew. Meanwhile to Juno, in the realms above, (His wife and sister,) spoke almighty Jove. "At last thy will prevails: great Peleus' son Rises in arms: such grace thy Greeks have won. Say (for I know not), is their race divine, And thou the mother of that martial line?" "What words are these? (the imperial dame replies, While anger flash'd from her majestic eyes) Succour like this a mortal arm might lend, And such success mere human wit attend: And shall not I, the second power above, Heaven's queen, and consort of the thundering Jove, Say, shall not I one nation's fate command, Not wreak my vengeance on one guilty land?" [Illustration: TRIPOD.] TRIPOD. So they. Meanwhile the silver-footed dame Reach'd the Vulcanian dome, eternal frame! High-eminent amid the works divine, Where heaven's far-beaming brazen mansions shine. There the lame ar