with surprise, she seem'd to fly, Fear on her cheek, and sorrow m her eye. The nurse attended with her infant boy, The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy." Hector this heard, return'd without delay; Swift through the town he trod his former way, Through streets of palaces, and walks of state; And met the mourner at the Scaean gate. With haste to meet him sprung the joyful fair. His blameless wife, Aetion's wealthy heir: (Cilician Thebe great Aetion sway'd, And Hippoplacus' wide extended shade:) The nurse stood near, in whose embraces press'd, His only hope hung smiling at her breast, Whom each soft charm and early grace adorn, Fair as the new-born star that gilds the morn. To this loved infant Hector gave the name Scamandrius, from Scamander's honour'd stream; Astyanax the Trojans call'd the boy, From his great father, the defence of Troy. Silent the warrior smiled, and pleased resign'd To tender passions all his mighty mind; His beauteous princess cast a mournful look, Hung on his hand, and then dejected spoke; Her bosom laboured with a boding sigh, And the big tear stood trembling in her eye. [Illustration: THE MEETING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.] THE MEETING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE. "Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run? Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son! And think'st thou not how wretched we shall be, A widow I, a helpless orphan he? For sure such courage length of life denies, And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice. Greece in her single heroes strove in vain; Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain. O grant me, gods, ere Hector meets his doom, All I can ask of heaven, an early tomb! So shall my days in one sad tenor run, And end with sorrows as they first begun. No parent now remains my griefs to share, No father's aid, no mother's tender care. The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire, Laid Thebe waste, and slew my warlike si