ARGUMENT. APOLLO'S priest to th' Argive fleet doth bring Gifts for his daughter, prisoner to the king; For which her tender'd freedom he entreats; But, being dismiss'd with contumelious threats, At Phœbus' hands, by vengeful prayer, he seeks To have a plague inflicted on the Greeks. Which had, Achilles doth a council cite, Embold'ning Calchas, in the king's despite, To tell the truth why they were punish'd so. From hence their fierce and deadly strife did grow. For wrong in which Aeacides so raves, That goddess Thetis, from her throne of waves Ascending heaven, of Jove assistance won, To plague the Greeks by absence of her son, And make the general himself repent To wrong so much his army's ornament. This found by Juno, she with Jove contends; Till Vulcan, with heaven's cup, the quarrel ends.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Alpha the prayer of Chryses sings: The army's plague: the strife of kings.

ACHILLES' baneful wrath resound, O Goddess, that impos'd Infinite sorrows on the Greeks, and many brave souls los'd From breasts heroic; sent them far to that invisible cave That no light comforts; and their limbs to dogs and vultures gave: Aeacides—Achilles, grandson of Aeacus. Invisible cave—Hades. To all which Jove's will gave effect; from whom first strife begun Betwixt Atrides, king of men, and Thetis' godlike son. What god gave Eris their command, and op'd that fighting vein? Jove's and Latona's son; who, fir'd against the king of men For contumely shown his priest, infectious sickness sent To plague the army, and to death by troops the soldiers went. Occasion'd thus: Chryses, the priest, came to the fleet to buy, For presents of unvalu'd price, his daughter's liberty; The golden sceptre and the crown of Phœbus in his hands Proposing; and made suit to all, but most to the commands Of both th' Atrides, who most rul'd. "Great Atreus' sons," said he, "And all ye well-greav'd Greeks, the gods, whose habitations be In heavenly houses, grace your powers with Priam's razed town, And grant ye happy conduct home! To win which wish'd renown Of Jove, by honouring his son, far-shooting Phœbus, deign For these fit presents to dissolve the ransomable chain Of my lov'd daughter's servitude." The Greeks entirely gave Glad acclamations, for sign that their desires would have The grave priest reverenc'd, and his gifts of so much price embrac'd. The general yet bore no such mind, but viciously disgrac'd With violent terms the priest, and said:—"Dotard! avoid our fleet, Where ling'ring be not found by me, nor thy returning feet Let ever visit us again, lest nor thy godhead's crown, Nor sceptre, save thee! Her thou seek'st I still will hold mine own Till age deflow'r her. In our court at Argos, far transferr'd From her lov'd country, she shall ply her web, and see prepar'd Atrides—patronymic of Agamemnon and Menelaus. Thetis' son—Achilles. Eris—the goddess of strife, personification of strife. Jove and Latona's son—Apollo. Unvalued—invaluable, not to be valued. So Shakespeare—"Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels." — Rich. III. 1. 4. "See my bed made," it may be Englished. The word is ἀντιόωσαν, which signifies contra stantem, as standing of one side opposite to another on the other side; which yet others translate capessentem et adornantem; which, since it shows best to a reader, I follow.—CHAPMAN. With all fit ornaments my bed. Incense me then no more, But, if thou wilt be safe, begone." This said, the sea-beat shore, Obeying his high will, the priest trod off with haste and fear; And, walking silent, till he left far off his enemies' ear, Phœbus, fair hair'd Latona's son, he stirr'd up with a vow, To this stern purpose: "Hear, thou God that bear'st the silver bow, That Chrysa guard'st, rul'st Tenedos with strong hand, and the round Of Cilla most divine dost walk! O Smintheus! if crown'd With thankful offerings thy rich fane I ever saw, or fir'd Fat thighs of oxen and of goats to thee, this grace desir'd Vouchsafe to me: pains for my tears let these rude Greeks repay, Forc'd with thy arrows." Thus he pray'd, and Phœbus heard him pray, And, vex'd at heart, down from the tops of steep heaven stoop'd; his bow, And quiver cover'd round, his hands did on his shoulders throw; And of the angry Deity the arrows as he mov'd Rattled about him. Like the night he rang'd the host, and rov'd (Apart the fleet set) terribly; with his hard-loosing hand His silver bow twang'd; and his shafts did first the mules command And swift hounds; then the Greeks themselves his deadly arrows shot. The fires of death went never out; nine days his shafts flew hot About the army; and the tenth, Achilles called a court Of all the Greeks; heaven's white-arm'd Queen (who, everywhere cut short, Beholding her lov'd Greeks, by death) suggested it; and he (All met in one) arose, and said: "Atrides, now I see We must be wandering again, flight must be still our stay, If flight can save us now, at once sickness and battle lay Such strong hand on us. Let us ask some prophet, priest, or prove Some dream-interpreter (for dreams are often sent from Jove) Why Phœbus is so much incens'd; if unperformed vows He blames in us, or hecatombs; and if these knees he bows Went—the second folio omits this word. White-arm'd queen—Juno. To death may yield his graves no more, but offering all supply Of savours burnt from lambs and goats, avert his fervent eye, And turn his temperate." Thus, he sat; and then stood up to them Calchas, surnam'd Thestorides, of augurs the supreme; He knew things present, past, to come, and rul'd the equipage Of th' Argive fleet to Ilion, for his prophetic rage Given by Apollo; who, well-seen in th' ill they felt, propos'd This to Achilles: "Jove's belov'd, would thy charge see disclos'd The secret of Apollo's wrath? then covenant and take oath To my discovery, that, with words and powerful actions both, Thy strength will guard the truth in me; because I well conceive That he whose empire governs all, whom all the Grecians give Confirm'd obedience, will be mov'd; and then you know the state Of him that moves him. When a king hath once mark'd for his hate A man inferior, though that day his wrath seems to digest Th' offence he takes, yet evermore he rakes up in his breast Brands of quick anger, till revenge hath quench'd to his desire The fire reserv'd. Tell me, then, if, whatsoever ire Suggests in hurt of me to him, thy valour will prevent?" Achilles answer'd: "All thou know'st speak, and be confident; For by Apollo, Jove's belov'd, (to whom performing vows, O Calchas, for the state of Greece, thy spirit prophetic shows Skills that direct us) not a man of all these Grecians here, I living, and enjoying the light shot through this flowery sphere, Shall touch thee with offensive hands; though Agamemnon be The man in question, that doth boast the mightiest empery Of all our army." Then took heart the prophet, unreprov'd, And said: "They are not unpaid vows, nor hecatombs, that mov'd Rage—i. e. power, a frequent use of the word, —the poetic inspiration. Discovery—declaration. Empery—sovereign authority;—"Ruling in large and ample empery / O'er France, and all her almost kingly dukedoms." SHAKESPEARE. Hen. V. 1. 2. The God against us; his offence is for his priest impair'd By Agamemnon, that refus'd the present he preferr'd, And kept his daughter. This is cause why heaven's Far-darter darts These plagues amongst us; and this still will empty in our hearts His deathful quiver, uncontain'd till to her loved sire The black-eyed damsel be resign'd; no rédemptory hire Took for her freedom, —not a gift, but all the ransom quit, And she convey'd, with sacrifice, till her enfranchis'd feet Tread Chrysa under; then the God, so pleas'd, perhaps we may Move to remission." Thus, he sate; and up, the great in sway, Heroic Agamemnon rose, eagerly bearing all; His mind's seat overcast with fumes; an anger general Fill'd all his faculties; his eyes sparkled like kindling fire, Which sternly cast upon the priest, thus vented he his ire: "Prophet of ill; for never good came from thee towards me Not to a word's worth; evermore thou took'st delight to be Offensive in thy auguries, which thou continuest still, Now casting thy prophetic gall, and vouching all our ill, Shot from Apollo, is impos'd since I refus'd the price Of fair Chryseis' liberty; which would in no worth rise To my rate of herself, which moves my vows to have her home, Past Clytemnestra loving her, that grac'd my nuptial room With her virginity and flower. Nor ask her merits less For person, disposition, wit, and skill in housewiferies. And yet, for all this, she shall go, if more conducible That course be than her holding here. I rather wish the weal Of my lov'd army than the death. Provide yet instantly Supply for her, that I alone of all our royalty Uncontain'd—not to be emptied, unrestrainable. Quit—paid. To quite, or quit, often used in this sense by Chapman. Eagerly bearing all—treating all angrily, sourly (from the French aigre.) "If thou think'st so, vex him with eager words." SHAKESPEARE. 3 Hen. VI. 11. 6. Supply for her—compensation for her loss. Lose not my winnings. 'Tis not fit. Ye see all I lose mine Forc'd by another, see as well some other may resign His prise to me." To this replied the swift-foot, god-like, son Of Thetis, thus: "King of us all, in all ambition Most covetous of all that breathe, why should the great-soul'd Greeks Supply thy lost prise out of theirs? Nor what thy avarice seeks Our common treasury can find; so little it doth guard Of what our ras'd towns yielded us; of all which most is shar'd, And given our soldiers; which again to take into our hands Were ignominious and base. Now then, since God commands, Part with thy most-lov'd prise to him; not any one of us Exacts it of thee, yet we all, all loss thou suffer'st thus, Will treble, quadruple, in gain, when Jupiter bestows The sack of well-wall'd Troy on us; which by his word he owes." "Do not deceive yourself with wit," he answer'd, "god-like man, Though your good name may colour it; 'tis not your swift foot can Outrun me here; nor shall the gloss, set on it with the God, Persuade me to my wrong. Wouldst thou maintain in sure abode Thine own prise, and slight me of mine? Resolve this: if our friends, As fits in equity my worth, will right me with amends, So rest it; otherwise, myself will enter personally On thy prise, that of Ithacus, or Ajax, for supply; Let him on whom I enter rage. But come, we'll order these Hereafter, and in other place. Now put to sacred seas Our black sail; in it rowers put, in it fit sacrifice; And to these I will make ascend my so much envied prise, Prise—booty, anything seized. I shall retain this orthography throughout, as more expressive of the original. Chapman uses prize elsewhere when meaning value, price. Thus, in the continuation of Marlowe's Musæus,— "And five they hold in most especial prize, / Since 'tis the first odd number that doth rise / From the two foremost numbers' unity / That odd and even are." — Sestyad V. Ithacus—Ulysses. Let him, &c. i. e. though he may rage. Bright-cheek'd Chryseis. For conduct of all which, we must choose A chief out of our counsellors. Thy service we must use, Idomeneus; Ajax, thine; or thine, wise Ithacus; Or thine, thou terriblest of men, thou son of Peleus, Which fittest were, that thou might'st see these holy acts perform'd For which thy cunning zeal so pleads; and he, whose bow thus storm'd For our offences, may be calm'd." Achilles, with a frown, Thus answer'd: "O thou impudent! of no good but thine own Ever respectful, but of that with all craft covetous, With what heart can a man attempt a service dangerous, Or at thy voice be spirited to fly upon a foe, Thy mind thus wretched? For myself, I was not injur'd so By any Trojan, that my powers should bid them any blows; In nothing bear they blame of me; Phthia, whose bosom flows With corn and people, never felt impair of her increase By their invasion; hills enow, and far-resounding seas, Pour out their shades and deeps between; but thee, thou frontless man, We follow, and thy triumphs make with bonfires of our bane; Thine, and thy brother's, vengeance sought, thou dog's eyes, of this Troy By our expos'd lives; whose deserts thou neither dost employ With honour nor with care. And now, thou threat'st to force from me The fruit of my sweat, which the Greeks gave all; and though it be, Compar'd with thy part, then snatch'd up, nothing; nor ever is At any sack'd town; but of fight, the fetcher in of this, My hands have most share; in whose toils when I have emptied me Of all my forces, my amends in liberality, Though it be little, I accept, and turn pleas'd to my tent; And yet that little thou esteem'st too great a continent In thy incontinent avarice. For Phthia therefore now My course is; since 'tis better far, than here t' endure that thou Bid—threaten, challenge. The second folio has "your exposed lives;" evidently an error of the press. The Greeks gave all—i. e. all the Greeks gave. Continent—i. e. possession. Continent incontinent, a quibble of Chapman's. Should'st still be ravishing my right, draw my whole treasure dry, And add dishonour." He replied: "If thy heart serve thee, flee; Stay not for my cause; other here will aid and honour me; If not, yet Jove I know is sure; that counsellor is he That I depend on. As for thee, of all our Jove-kept kings Thou still art most mine enemy; strifes, battles, bloody things, Make thy blood-feasts still. But if strength, that these moods build upon, Flow in thy nerves, God gave thee it; and so 'tis not thine own, But in his hands still. What then lifts thy pride in this so high? Home with thy fleet, and Myrmidons; use there their empery; Command not here. I weigh thee not, nor mean to magnify Thy rough-hewn rages, but, instead, I thus far threaten thee: Since Phœbus needs will force from me Chryseis, she shall go; My ships and friends shall waft her home; but I will imitate so His pleasure, that mine own shall take, in person, from thy tent Bright-cheek'd Briseis; and so tell thy strength how eminent My power is, being compar'd with thine; all other making fear To vaunt equality with me, or in this proud kind bear Their beards against me." Thetis's son at this stood vex'd, his heart Bristled his bosom, and two ways drew his discursive part; If, from his thigh his sharp sword drawn, he should make room about Atrides' person, slaught'ring him, or sit his anger out, And curb his spirit. While these thoughts striv'd in his blood and mind, And he his sword drew, down from heaven Athenia stoop'd, and shin'd About his temples, being sent by th' ivory-wristed Queen Saturnia, who out of her heart had ever loving been And careful for the good of both. She stood behind, and took Achilles by the yellow curls, and only gave her look To him; appearance not a man of all the rest could see. He turning back his eye, amaze strook every faculty; Discursive part—reasoning power. Athenia—Minerva. Saturnia—Juno. Only gave her look to him—i. e. only made herself seen by him. Yet straight he knew her by her eyes, so terrible they were, Sparkling with ardour, and thus spake: "Thou seed of Jupiter, Why com'st thou? To behold his pride that boasts our empery? Then witness with it my revenge, and see that insolence die That lives to wrong me." She replied: "I come from heaven to see Thine anger settled, if thy soul will use her sovereignty In fit reflection. I am sent from Juno, whose affects standings Stand heartily inclin'd to both. Come, give us both respects, And cease contention; draw no sword; use words, and such as may Be bitter to his pride, but just; for trust in what I say, A time shall come, when, thrice the worth of that he forceth now, He shall propose for recompense of these wrongs; therefore throw Reins on thy passions, and serve us." He answer'd: "Though my heart Burn in just anger, yet my soul must conquer th' angry part, And yield you conquest. Who subdues his earthy part for heaven, Heaven to his prayers subdues his wish." This said, her charge was given Fit honour; in his silver hilt he held his able hand, And forc'd his broad sword up; and up to heaven did re-ascend Minerva, who, in Jove's high roof that bears the rough shield, took Her place with other deities. She gone, again forsook Patience his passion, and no more his silence could confine His wrath, that this broad language gave: "Thou ever steep'd in wine, Dog's face, with heart but of a hart, that nor in th' open eye Of fight dar'st thrust into a prease, nor with our noblest lie In secret ambush! These works seem too full of death for thee; 'Tis safer far in th' open host to dare an injury To any crosser of thy lust. Thou subject-eating king! Base spirits thou govern'st, or this wrong had been the last foul thing Thou ever author'dst; yet I vow, and by a great oath swear, Even by this sceptre, that, as this never again shall bear Green leaves or branches, nor increase with any growth his size, Nor did since first it left the hills, and had his faculties Affects—affections, passions. Prease—press. "This simile Virgil directly translates." — CHAPMAN. And ornaments bereft with iron; which now to other end Judges of Greece bear, and their laws, receiv'd from Jove, defend; (For which my oath to thee is great); so, whensoever need Shall burn with thirst of me thy host, no prayers shall ever breed Affection in me to their aid, though well-deserved woes Afflict thee for them, when to death man-slaught'ring Hector throws Whole troops of them, and thou torment'st thy vex'd mind with conceit Of thy rude rage now, and his wrong that most deserv'd the right Of all thy army." Thus, he threw his sceptre 'gainst the ground, With golden studs stuck, and took seat. Atrides' breast was drown'd In rising choler. Up to both sweet-spoken Nestor stood, The cunning Pylian orator, whose tongue pour'd forth a flood Of more-than-honey-sweet discourse; two ages were increas'd Of divers-languag'd men, all born in his time and deceas'd, In sacred Pylos, where he reign'd amongst the third ag'd men. He, well-seen in the world, advis'd, and thus express'd it then: "O Gods! Our Greek earth will be drown'd in just tears; rapeful Troy, Her king, and all his sons, will make as just a mock, and joy, Of these disjunctions; if of you, that all our host excel In counsel and in skill of fight, they hear this. Come, repel These young men's passions. Y' are not both, put both your years in one, So old as I. I liv'd long since, and was companion With men superior to you both, who yet would ever hear My counsels with respect. Mine eyes yet never witness were, Nor ever will be, of such men as then delighted them; Pirithous, Exadius, and god-like Polypheme, Cæneus, and Dryas prince of men, Aegean Theseus, A man like heaven's immortals form'd; all, all most vigorous, Of all men that even those days bred; most vigorous men, and fought With beasts most vigorous, mountain beasts, (for men in strength were nought The second folio has "this wrong." The second folio has "put both you years." It will not be necessary to note the many manifest errors that disfigure this second edition. Match'd with their forces) fought with them, and bravely fought them down. Yet even with these men I convers'd, being call'd to the renown Of their societies, by their suits, from Pylos far, to fight In th' Asian kingdom; and I fought, to a degree of might That help'd even their mights, against such as no man now would dare To meet in conflict; yet even these my counsels still would hear, And with obedience crown my words. Give you such palm to them; 'Tis better than to wreath your wrath. Atrides, give not stream To all thy power, nor force his prise, but yield her still his own, As all men else do. Nor do thou encounter with thy crown, Great son of Peleus, since no king that ever Jove allow'd Grace of a sceptre equals him. Suppose thy nerves endow'd With strength superior, and thy birth a very goddess gave, Yet he of force is mightier, since what his own nerves have Is amplified with just command of many other. King of men, Command thou then thyself; and I with my prayers will obtain Grace of Achilles to subdue his fury; whose parts are Worth our intreaty, being chief check to all our ill in war." "All this, good father," said the king, "is comely and good right; But this man breaks all such bonds; he affects, past all men, height; All would in his power hold, all make his subjects, give to all His hot will for a temperate law; all which he never shall Persuade at my hands. If the gods have given him the great style Of ablest soldier, made they that his licence to revile Men with vile language?" Thetis' son prevented him, and said: "Fearful and vile I might be thought, if the exactions laid By all means on me I should bear. Others command to this, Thou shalt not me; or if thou dost, far my free spirit is To wreath your wrath—to allow your wrath to triumph: an allusion to the wreaths worn by victors.—DR. COOKE TAYLOR. Encounter with thy crown—enter into dispute with thy sovereign. Amplified. The second folio (which Dr. Taylor follows) has "amplied." The metre would require that the word "many" should be omitted. Good right—right good, very good. Affects height—aims at superiority above all men. From serving thy command. Beside, this I affirm (afford Impression of it in thy soul) I will not use my sword On thee or any for a wench, unjustly though thou tak'st The thing thou gav'st; but all things else that in my ship thou mak'st Greedy survey of, do not touch without my leave; or do,— Add that act's wrong to this, that these may see that outrage too,— And then comes my part; then be sure thy blood upon my lance Shall flow in vengeance." These high terms these two at variance Us'd to each other; left their seats; and after them arose The whole court. To his tents and ships, with friends and soldiers, goes Angry Achilles. Atreus' son the swift ship launch'd, and put Within it twenty chosen row'rs, within it likewise shut The hecatomb t' appease the God; then caus'd to come aboard Fair-cheek'd Chryseis; for the chief, he in whom Pallas pour'd Her store of counsels, Ithacus, aboard went last; and then The moist ways of the sea they sail'd. And now the king of men Bade all the host to sacrifice. They sacrific'd, and cast The offal of all to the deeps; the angry God they grac'd With perfect hecatombs; some bulls, some goats, along the shore Of the unfruitful sea, inflam'd. To heaven the thick fumes bore Enwrapped savours. Thus, though all the politic king made shew Respects to heaven, yet he himself all that time did pursue His own affections; the late jar, in which he thunder'd threats Against Achilles, still he fed, and his affections' heats Thus vented to Talthybius, and grave Eurybates, Heralds, and ministers of trust, to all his messages. "Haste to Achilles' tent; where take Briseis' hand, and bring Her beauties to us. If he fail to yield her, say your king Will come himself, with multitudes that shall the horribler Make both his presence, and your charge, that so he dares defer." This said, he sent them with a charge of hard condition. They went unwillingly, and trod the fruitless sea's shore; soon They reach'd the navy and the tents, in which the quarter lay Of all the Myrmidons, and found the chief Chief in their sway Set at his black bark in his tent. Nor was Achilles glad To see their presence; nor themselves in any glory had Their message, but with reverence stood, and fear'd th' offended king, Ask'd not the dame, nor spake a word. He yet, well knowing the thing That caus'd their coming, grac'd them thus: "Heralds, ye men that bear The messages of men and gods, y' are welcome, come ye near. I nothing blame you, but your king; 'tis he I know doth send You for Briseis; she is his. Patroclus, honour'd friend, Bring forth the damsel, and these men let lead her to their lord. But, heralds, be you witnesses before the most ador'd, Before us mortals, and before your most ungentle king, Of what I suffer, that, if war ever hereafter bring My aid in question, to avert any severest bane It brings on others, I am 'scus'd to keep mine aid in wane, Since they mine honour. But your king, in tempting mischief, raves, Nor sees at once by present things the future; how like waves Ills follow ills; injustices being never so secure In present times, but after-plagues even then are seen as sure; Which yet he sees not, and so soothes his present lust, which check'd, Would check plagues future; and he might, in succouring right, protect Such as fight for his right at fleet. They still in safety fight That fight still justly." This speech us'd, Patroclus did the rite His friend commanded, and brought forth Briseis from her tent, Gave her the heralds, and away to th' Achive ships they went. She sad, and scarce for grief could go. Her love all friends forsook, And wept for anger. To the shore of th' old sea he betook Himself alone, and casting forth upon the purple sea His wet eyes, and his hands to heaven advancing, this sad plea Made to his mother: "Mother! Since you brought me forth to breathe So short a life, Olympius had good right to bequeath Her love—Achilles. Olympius—Jupiter. My short life honour; yet that right he doth in no degree, But lets Atrides do me shame, and force that prise from me That all the Greeks gave." This with tears he utter'd, and she heard, Set with her old sire in his deeps, and instantly appear'd Up from the grey sea like a cloud, sate by his side, and said: "Why weeps my son? What grieves thee? Speak, conceal not what hath laid Such hard hand on thee, let both know." He, sighing like a storm, Replied: "Thou dost know. Why should I things known again inform? We march'd to Thebes, the sacred town of king Eëtion, Sack'd it, and brought to fleet the spoil, which every valiant son Of Greece indifferently shar'd. Atrides had for share Fair-cheek'd Chryseis. After which, his priest, that shoots so far, Chryses, the fair Chryseis' sire, arriv'd at th' Achive fleet, With infinite ransom, to redeem the dear imprison'd feet Of his fair daughter. In his hands he held Apollo's crown, And golden sceptre; making suit to every Grecian son, But most the sons of Atreus, the others' orderers, Yet they least heard him; all the rest receiv'd with reverend ears The motion, both the priest and gifts gracing, and holding worth His wish'd acceptance. Atreus' son yet (vex'd) commanded forth With rude terms Phœbus' reverend priest; who, angry, made retreat, And pray'd to Phœbus, in whose grace he standing passing great Got his petition. The God an ill shaft sent abroad That tumbled down the Greeks in heaps. The host had no abode That was not visited. We ask'd a prophet that well knew The cause of all; and from his lips Apollo's prophecies flew, Telling his anger. First myself exhorted to appease The anger'd God, which Atreus' son did at the heart displease; And up he stood, us'd threats, perform'd. The black-ey'd Greeks sent home Chryseis to her sire, and gave his God a hecatomb. His wish'd acceptance—that which he wished to be accepted. Then, for Briseis, to my tents Atrides' heralds came, And took her that the Greeks gave all. If then thy powers can frame Wreak for thy son, afford it. Scale Olympus, and implore Jove (if by either word, or fact, thou ever didst restore Joy to his griev'd heart) now to help. I oft have heard thee vaunt, In court of Peleus, that alone thy hand was conversant In rescue from a cruel spoil the black-cloud-gathering Jove, Whom other Godheads would have bound (the Power whose pace doth move The round earth, heaven's great Queen, and Pallas); to whose bands Thou cam'st with rescue, bringing up him with the hundred hands To great Olympus, whom the Gods call Briareus, men Aegæon, who his sire surpass'd, and was as strong again, And in that grace sat glad by Jove. Th' immortals stood dismay'd At his ascension, and gave free passage to his aid. Of all this tell Jove; kneel to him, embrace his knee, and pray, If Troy's aid he will ever deign, that now their forces may Beat home the Greeks to fleet and sea; embruing their retreat In slaughter; their pains paying the wreak of their proud sovereign's heat; And that far-ruling king may know from his poor soldier's harms His own harm falls; his own and all in mine, his best in arms." Her answer she pour'd out in tears: "O me, my son," said she, "Why brought I up thy being at all, that brought thee forth to be Sad subject of so hard a fate? O would to heaven, that since Thy fate is little, and not long, thou might'st without offence And tears perform it! But to live thrall to so stern a fate As grants thee least life, and that least so most unfortunate, Grieves me t' have given thee any life. But what thou wishest now, If Jove will grant, I'll up and ask; Olympus crown'd with snow I'll climb; but sit thou fast at fleet, renounce all war, and feed Thy heart with wrath, and hope of wreak; till which come, thou shalt need Wreak—revenge. A frequent word in Elizabethan writers. Spoil—injury. Neptune, Juno, Minerva. A little patience. Jupiter went yesterday to feast Amongst the blameless Aethiops, in th' ocean's deepen'd breast, All Gods attending him; the twelfth, high heaven again he sees, And then his brass-pav'd court I'll scale, cling to his pow'rful knees, And doubt not but to win thy wish." Thus, made she her remove, And left wrath tyring on her son for his enforced love. Ulysses, with the hecatomb, arriv'd at Chrysa's shore; And when amidst the haven't deep mouth they came to use the oar, They straight struck sail, then roll'd them up, and on the hatches threw; The top-mast to the kelsine then with halyards down they drew; Then brought the ship to port with oars; then forked anchor cast; And, 'gainst the violence of storm, for drifting made her fast. All come ashore, they all expos'd the holy hecatomb To angry Phœbus, and, with it, Chryseis welcom'd home; Whom to her sire, wise Ithacus, that did at th' altar stand, For honour, led, and, speaking thus, resign'd her to his hand: "Chryses, the mighty king of men, great Agamemnon, sends Thy lov'd seed by my hands to thine; and to thy God commends A hecatomb, which my charge is to sacrifice, and seek Our much-sigh-mix'd woe his recure, invok'd by every Greek." Thus he resign'd her, and her sire receiv'd her highly joy'd. About the well-built altar, then, they orderly employ'd The sacred offering, wash'd their hands, took salt cakes; and the priest, With hands held up to heaven, thus pray'd: "O thou that all things seest, Fautour of Chrysa, whose fair hand doth guardfully dispose Celestial Cilla, governing in all power Tenedos, Tyring—a term in falconry; from tirer (French) to drag or pull. The hawk was said to tire on her prey, when it was thrown at her, and she began to pull at it and tear it. Hence, metaphorically, for being engaged eagerly on any thing. Shakespeare thus uses it; Cymb. 111. 4, Tim. of Athens, III. 6.—NARES. For his enforced love—for Briseis forced from him. Speaking thus. The first folio has "spoken thus." Recure—cure. His refers to cure—our woe's recure. Fautour—(Lat.) aider, protector. O hear thy priest, and as thy hand, in free grace to my prayers, Shot fervent plague-shafts through the Greeks, now hearten their affairs With health renew'd, and quite remove th' infection from their blood." He pray'd; and to his pray'rs again the God propitious stood. All, after pray'r, cast on salt cakes, drew back, kill'd, flay'd the beeves, Cut out and dubb'd with fat their thighs, fair dress'd with doubled leaves, And on them all the sweetbreads prick'd. The priest, with small sere wood, Did sacrifice, pour'd on red wine; by whom the young men stood, And turn'd, in five ranks, spits. On which (the legs enough) they eat The inwards; then in giggots cut the other fit for meat, And put to fire; which roasted well they drew. The labour done, They serv'd the feast in that fed all to satisfaction. Desire of meat and wine thus quench'd, the youths crown'd cups of wine, Drunk off, and fill'd again to all. That day was held divine, And spent in pæans to the Sun, who heard with pleased ear; When whose bright chariot stoop'd to sea, and twilight hid the clear, All soundly on their cables slept, even till the night was worn. And when the Lady of the light, the rosy-finger'd Morn, Rose from the hills, all fresh arose, and to the camp retir'd. Apollo with a fore-right wind their swelling bark inspir'd. The top-mast hoisted, milk-white sails on his round breast they put, The mizens strooted with the gale, the ship her course did cut So swiftly that the parted waves against her ribs did roar; Which, coming to the camp, they drew aloft the sandy shore; Where, laid on stocks, each soldier kept his quarter as before. But Peleus' son, swift-foot Achilles, at his swift ships sate Burning in wrath, nor ever came to councils of estate Dubb'd—From the French dauber. We use the word dabbed on now in the same sense. Halliwell, in his Archaic Dict. quotes "Morte Arthure, MS. Linc. f. 88;" — "His dyademe was droppede downe / Dubbyde with stonys." Giggots—quarters; from French gigot. Strooted—swelled out. Halliwell spells it strout, which he says is still in use. Aloft—high up on. That make men honour'd, never trod the fierce embattled field, But kept close, and his lov'd heart pin'd, what fight and cries could yield Thirsting at all parts to the host. And now, since first he told His wrongs to Thetis, twelve fair morns their ensigns did unfold, And then the ever-living gods mounted Olympus, Jove First in ascension. Thetis then remember'd well to move Achilles' motion, rose from sea, and, by the morn's first light, The great heaven and Olympus climb'd; where, in supremest height Of all that many-headed hill, she saw the far-seen son Of Saturn, set from all the rest, in his free seat alone. Before whom, on her own knees fall'n, the knees of Jupiter Her left hand held, her right his chin, and thus she did prefer Her son's petition: "Father Jove! If ever I have stood Aidful to thee in word or work, with this implored good Requite my aid, renown my son, since in so short a race (Past others) thou confin'st his life. An insolent disgrace Is done him by the king of men; he forc'd from him a prise Won with his sword. But thou, O Jove, that art most strong, most wise, Honour my son for my sake; add strength to the Trojans' side By his side's weakness in his want; and see Troy amplified In conquest, so much, and so long, till Greece may give again The glory reft him, and the more illustrate the free reign Of his wrong'd honour." Jove at this sate silent; not a word In long space pass'd him. Thetis still hung on his knee, implor'd The second time his help, and said: "Grant, or deny my suit, Be free in what thou dost; I know thou canst not sit thus mute For fear of any; speak, deny, that so I may be sure, Of all heaven's Goddesses, 'tis I that only must endure Dishonour by thee." Jupiter, the great cloud-gatherer, griev'd With thought of what a world of griefs this suit ask'd, being achiev'd, "Eagerly desirous of what fight and cries could yield at all parts of the host. The Greek is more simple: He ardently desired shout and war." DR. COOKE TAYLOR. The second folio reads "rose from the sea." Swell'd, sigh'd, and answer'd: "Works of death thou urgest. O at this Juno will storm, and all my powers inflame with contumelies. Ever she wrangles, charging me in ear of all the Gods That I am partial still, that I add the displeasing odds Of my aid to the Ilians. Begone then, lest she see; Leave thy request to my care; yet, that trust may hearten thee With thy desire's grant, and my power to give it act approve How vain her strife is, to thy prayer my eminent head shall move; Which is the great sign of my will with all th' immortal states; Irrevocable; never fails; never without the rates Of all powers else; when my head bows, all heads bow with it still As their first mover; and gives power to any work I will." He said; and his black eyebrows bent; above his deathless head Th' ambrosian curls flow'd; great heaven shook; and both were severed, Their counsels broken. To the depth of Neptune's kingdom div'd Thetis from heaven's height; Jove arose, and all the Gods receiv'd (All rising from their thrones) their sire, attending to his court. None sate when he rose, none delay'd the furnishing his port Till he came near, all met with him, and brought him to his throne. Nor sate great Juno ignorant, when she beheld alone Old Nereus' silver-footed seed with Jove, that she had brought Counsels to heaven; and straight her tongue had teeth in it, that wrought This sharp invective: "Who was that (thou craftiest counsellor Of all the Gods) that so apart some secret did implore? Ever, apart from me, thou lov'st to counsel and decree Things of more close trust than thou think'st are fit t' impart to me. Whatever thou determin'st, I must ever be denied The knowledge of it by thy will." To her speech thus replied The Father both of men and Gods: "Have never hope to know My whole intentions, though my wife; it fits not, nor would show Rates—ratifications Furnishing his port—assuming a proper deportment. Nereus' silver-footed seed—Thetis. Well to thine own thoughts; but what fits thy woman's ear to hear, Woman, nor man, nor God, shall know before it grace thine ear. Yet, what apart from men and Gods I please to know, forbear T' examine, or enquire of that." She with the cow's fair eyes, Respected Juno, this return'd: "Austere king of the skies, What hast thou utter'd? When did I before this time inquire, Or sift thy counsels? Passing close you are still. Your desire Is serv'd with such care, that I fear you can scarce vouch the deed That makes it public, being seduc'd by this old sea-god's seed, That could so early use her knees, embracing thine. I doubt The late act of thy bowed head was for the working out Of some boon she ask'd; that her son thy partial hand would please With plaguing others." "Wretch!" said he, "thy subtle jealousies Are still exploring; my designs can never 'scape thine eye, Which yet thou never canst prevent. Your curiosity Makes thee less car'd for at my hands, and horrible the end Shall make thy humour. If it be what thy suspects intend, What then? 'Tis my free will it should; to which let way be given With silence. Curb your tongue in time, lest all the Gods in heaven Too few be and too weak to help thy punish'd insolence, When my inaccessible hands shall fall on thee." The sense Of this high threat'ning made her fear, and silent she sate down, Humbling her great heart. All the Gods in court of Jove did frown At this offence given; amongst whom heaven's famous artizan, Ephaistus, in his mother's care this comely speech began; "Believe it, these words will breed wounds beyond our powers to bear, If thus for mortals ye fall out. Ye make a tumult here That spoils our banquet. Evermore worst matters put down best. But, mother, though yourself be wise, yet let your son request With the cow's fair eyes—Chapman has retained the original meaning of the word βοῶπις, and, I think, rightly. Oxen have beautiful eyes irrespective of their magnitude. In Bk. vii. 10, he translates it "that had her eyes so clear." Still exploring—ever prying. Ephaistus—Vulcan. His wisdom audience. Give good terms to our lov'd father Jove, For fear he take offence again, and our kind banquet prove A wrathful battle. If he will, the heavenly Light'ner can Take you and toss you from your throne, his power Olympian Is so surpassing. Soften then with gentle speech his spleen, And drink to him; I know his heart will quickly down again." This said, arising from his throne, in his lov'd mother's hand He put the double-handed cup, and said: "Come, do not stand On these cross humours, suffer, bear, though your great bosom grieve, And lest blows force you, all my aid not able to relieve Your hard condition, though these eyes behold it, and this heart Sorrow to think it. 'Tis a task too dangerous to take part Against Olympius. I myself the proof of this still feel. When other Gods would fain have help'd, he took me by the heel, And hurl'd me out of heaven. All day I was in falling down; At length in Lemnos I struck earth. The likewise-falling sun And I, together, set; my life almost set too; yet there The Sintii cheer'd and took me up." This did to laughter cheer White-wristed Juno, who now took the cup of him, and smil'd. The sweet peace-making draught went round, and lame Ephaistus fill'd Nectar to all the other Gods. A laughter never left Shook all the blessed deities, to see the lame so deft At that cup service. All that day, even till the sun went down, They banqueted, and had such cheer as did their wishes crown. Nor had they music less divine; Apollo there did touch His most sweet harp, to which, with voice, the Muses pleas'd as much. But when the sun's fair light was set, each Godhead to his house Address'd for sleep, where every one, with art most curious, Wisdom audience—i. e. a hearing for his wisdom. Double-handed—so reads the second folio; in the first it was "double-handled." The δέπας ἀμφικύπελλον, however, was not a cup with two handles, but which was held in the middle with a cup at each end. Deft—dexterous, neat. By heaven's great both-foot-halting God a several roof had built. Even he to sleep went, by whose hand heaven is with lightning gilt, High Jove, where he had us'd to rest when sweet sleep seiz'd his eyes; By him the golden-thron'd Queen slept, the Queen of deities. Great both-foot-halting God—Vulcan.

THE ARGUMENT. PARIS, betwixt the hosts, to single fight, Of all the Greeks, dares the most hardy knight. King Menelaus doth accept his brave, Conditioning that he again should have Fair Helena, with all she brought to Troy, If he subdu'd; else Paris should enjoy Her, and her wealth, in peace. Conquest doth grant Her dear wreath to the Grecian combatant; But Venus to her champion's life doth yield Safe rescue, and conveys him from the field Into his chamber, and for Helen sends, Whom much her lover's foul disgrace offends; Yet Venus still for him makes good her charms, And ends the second combat in his arms.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Gamma the single fight doth sing 'Twixt Paris and the Spartan king.

WHEN every least commander's will best soldiers had obey'd, And both the hosts were rang'd for fight, the Trojans would have fray'd The Greeks with noises, crying out, in coming rudely on At all parts, like the cranes that fill with harsh confusion His brave—bravado, boasting speech, or challenge. A very frequent word. Her dear wreath—the wreath, or victor's crown, the sign of conquest. Here put for Helen herself. Of brutish clanges all the air, and in ridiculous war (Eschewing the unsuffer'd storms shot from the winter's star) Visit the ocean, and confer the Pygmei soldiers death. The Greeks charg'd silent, and, like men, bestow'd their thrifty breath In strength of far-resounding blows, still entertaining care Of either's rescue, when their strength did their engagements dare. And as, upon a hill's steep top, the south wind pours a cloud, To shepherds thankless, but by thieves, that love the night, allow'd, A darkness letting down, that blinds a stone's cast off men's eyes : Such darkness from the Greeks' swift feet (made all of dust) did rise. But, ere stern conflict mix'd both strengths, fair Paris stept before The Trojan host; athwart his back a panther's hide he wore, A crooked bow, and sword, and shook two brazen-headed darts, With which well arm'd, his tongue provok'd the best of Grecian hearts To stand with him in single fight. Whom when the man, wrong'd most Of all the Greeks, so gloriously saw stalk before the host; As when a lion is rejoic'd, with hunger half forlorn, That finds some sweet prey, as a hart, whose grace lies in his horn, Or sylvan goat, which he devours, though never so pursu'd With dogs and men; so Sparta's king exulted, when he view'd The fair-faced Paris so expos'd to his so thirsted wreak, Whereof his good cause made him sure. The Grecian front did break, And forth he rush'd, at all parts arm'm'd, leapt from his chariot, And royally prepar'd for charge. Which seen, cold terror shot Clanges—so both the folios. Dr. Taylor has printed clangour. I have retained the old reading, as Chapman probably meant it for the plural of clange or clang. Unsuffer'd—insufferable. Pygmei—Pygmy, the battle of the Cranes and Pygmies. Thankless—not liked by, not grateful to. Allow'd—liked by, approved of. "O heavens / If you do love old men, if your sweet sway / Allow obedience." — SHAKESPEARE. Lear, II. 4. That blinds a stone's cast off men's eyes—that prevents one seeing beyond a stone's throw. So thirsted wreak—so desired revenge. The heart of Paris, who retir'd as headlong from the king As in him he had shunn'd his death; and as a hilly spring Presents a serpent to a man, full underneath his feet, Her blue neck, swoln with poison, rais'd, and her sting out, to greet His heedless entry, suddenly his walk he altereth, Starts back amaz'd, is shook with fear, and looks as pale as death; So Menelaus Paris scar'd; so that divine-fac'd foe Shrunk in his beauties. Which beheld by Hector, he let go This bitter check at him: "Accurs'd, made but in beauty's scorn, line problem Impostor, woman's man! O heaven, that thou hadst ne'er been born, Or, being so manless, never liv'd to bear man's noblest state, The nuptial honour! Which I wish, because it were a fate Much better for thee than this shame. This spectacle doth make A man a monster. Hark! how loud the Greeks laugh, who did take Thy fair form for a continent of parts as fair. A rape Thou mad'st of nature, like their queen. No soul, an empty shape, Takes up thy being; yet how spite to every shade of good Fills it with ill, for, as thou art, thou couldst collect a brood Of others like thee, and far hence fetch ill enough to us, Even to thy father; all these friends make those foes mock them thus In thee, for whose ridiculous sake, so seriously they lay All Greece, and fate, upon their necks. O wretch! Not dare to stay Weak Menelaus? But 'twas well; for in him thou hadst tried What strength lost beauty can infuse, and with the more grief died, To feel thou robb'st a worthier man, to wrong a soldier's right. Your harp's sweet touch, curl'd locks, fine shape, and gifts so exquisite, Given thee by Venus, would have done your fine dames little good, When blood and dust had ruffled them, and had as little stood Thelf in stead; but what thy care of all these in thee flies Monster—Dr. Taylor observes this is used here in its primitive sense, "a thing to be gazed at." Dr. Taylor, following the second folio, has incorrectly printed "fetched." We should inflict on thee ourselves. Infectious cowardice In thee hath terrified our host; for which thou well deserv'st A coat of tombstone, not of steel in which for form thou serv'st." To this thus Paris spake, (for form, that might inhabit heaven) "Hector, because thy sharp reproof is out of justice given, I take it well; but though thy heart, inur'd to these affrights, Cuts through them as an axe through oak, that more us'd more excites The workman's faculty, whose art can make the edge go far, Yet I, less practis'd than thyself in these extremes of war, May well be pardon'd, though less bold; in these your worth exceeds, In others mine. Nor is my mind of less force to the deeds Requir'd in war, because my form more flows in gifts of peace. Reproach not therefore the kind gifts of golden Cyprides. All heaven's gifts have their worthy price; as little to be scorn'd As to be won with strength, wealth, state; with which, to be adorn'd, Some men would change state, wealth, or strength. But if your martial heart Wish me to make my challenge good, and hold it such a part Of shame to give it over thus, cause all the rest to rest, And, 'twixt both hosts, let Sparta's king and me perform our best For Helen and the wealth she brought; and he that overcomes, Or proves superior any way, in all your equal dooms, Let him enjoy her utmost wealth, keep her, or take her home; The rest strike leagues of endless date, and hearty friends become; You dwelling safe in gleby Troy, and Greeks retire their force T' Achaia, that breeds fairest dames, and Argos, fairest horse." He said, and his amendsful words did Hector highly please, Who rush'd betwixt the fighting hosts, and made the Trojans cease, By holding up in midst his lance. The Grecians noted not The signal he for parley used, but at him fiercely shot, Hurl'd stones, and still were levelling darts. At last the king of men, A coat of tombstone.—The expression to put on a coat of stone was a Greek mode of speaking of those who were stoned. Similarly to put on the earth (γαῖαν ἐφέσσασθαι) was a term for burial. Equal dooms—just decisions, judgments. Great Agamemnon, cried aloud : "Argives! for shame, contain; Youths of Achaia, shoot no more; the fair-helm'd Hector shows As he desir'd to treat with us." This said, all ceas'd from blows, And Hector spake to both the hosts: "Trojans, and hardy Greeks, Hear now what he that stirr'd these wars for their cessation seeks. He bids us all, and you, disarm, that he alone may fight With Menelaus, for us all, for Helen and her right, With all the dow'r she brought to Troy; and he that wins the day, Or is in all the art of arms superior any way, The queen, and all her sorts of wealth, let him at will enjoy; The rest strike truce, and let love seal firm leagues 'twixt Greece and Troy." The Greek host wonder'd at this brave; silence flew everywhere ; At last spake Sparta's warlike king: "Now also give me ear, Whom grief gives most cause of reply. I now have hope to free The Greeks and Trojans of all ills they have sustain'd for me, And Alexander, that was cause I stretch'd my spleen so far. Of both then, which is nearest fate, let his death end the war; The rest immediately retire, and greet all homes in peace. Go then (to bless your champion, and give his powers success) Fetch for the Earth, and for the Sun (the Gods on whom ye call) Two lambs, a black one and a white, a female and a male; And we another for ourselves will fetch, and kill to Jove. To sign which rites bring Priam's force, because we well approve His sons perfidious, envious, and, out of practis'd bane To faith, when she believes in them, Jove's high truce may profane. All young men's hearts are still unstaid; but in those well-weigh'd deeds An old man will consent to pass things past, and what succeeds He looks into, that he may know how best to make his way Through both the fortunes of a fact, and will the worst obey." This granted, a delightful hope both Greeks and Trojans fed Of long'd-for rest from those long toils their tedious war had bred. Their horses then in rank they set, drawn from their chariots round, Alexander—Paris. Priam's force—see Bk. II. 587. Descend themselves, took off their arms, and plac'd them on the ground, Near one another; for the space 'twixt both the hosts was small. Hector two heralds sent to Troy, that they from thence might call King Priam, and to bring the lambs, to rate the truce they swore. But Agamemnon to the fleet Talthybius sent before, To fetch their lamb, who nothing slackt the royal charge was given. Iris, the rainbow, then came down, ambassadress from heaven, To white-arm'd Helen. She assum'd at every part the grace Of Helen's last love's sister's shape, who had the highest place In Helen's love, and had to name Laodice, most fair Of all the daughters Priam had, and made the nuptial pair With Helicaon, royal sprout of old Antenor's seed. She found queen Helena at home, at work about a weed, Wov'n for herself; it shin'd like fire, was rich, and full of size, The work of both sides being alike; in which she did comprise The many labours warlike Troy and brass-arm'd Greece endur'd For her fair sake, by cruel Mars and his stern friends procur'd. Iris came in in joyful haste, and said: "O come with me, Lov'd nymph, and an admired sight of Greeks and Trojans see, Who first on one another brought a war so full of tears, Even thirsty of contentious war. Now every man forbears, And friendly by each other sits, each leaning on his shield, Their long and shining lances pitch'd fast by them in the field. Paris, and Sparta's king, alone must take up all the strife; And he that conquers only call fair Helena his wife." Thus spake the thousand-colour'd Dame, and to her mind commends The joy to see her first espous'd, her native tow'rs, and friends; Which stirr'd a sweet desire in her, to serve the which she hied, Shadow'd her graces with white veils, and (though she took a pride To set her thoughts at gaze, and see, in her clear beauty's flood, What choice of glory swum to her yet tender womanhood) Season'd with tears her joys to see more joys the more offence, And that perfection could not flow from earthly excellence. Rate—see Bk. I. 508. Helen's last love's sister—Paris's sister. Thus went she forth, and took with her her women most of name, Aethra, Pittheus' lovely birth, and Clymene, whom fame Hath for her fair eyes memoris'd. They reach'd the Scæan tow'rs, Where Priam sat, to see the fight, with all his counsellors; Panthous, Lampus, Clytius, and stout Hicetaon, Thymœtes, wise Antenor, and profound Ucalegon; All grave old men; and soldiers they had been, but for age Now left the wars; yet counsellors they were exceeding sage. And as in well grown woods, on trees, cold spiny grasshoppers Sit chirping, and send voices out that scarce can pierce our ears For softness, and their weak faint sounds; so, talking on the tow'r, These seniors of the people sat; who when they saw the pow'r Of beauty, in the queen, ascend, even those cold-spirited peers, Those wise and almost wither'd men, found this heat in their years That they were forc'd (though whispering) to say: "What man can blame The Greeks and Trojans to endure, for so admir'd a dame, So many miseries, and so long? In her sweet countenance shine Looks like the Goddesses. And yet (though never so divine) Before we boast, unjustly still, of her enforced prise, And justly suffer for her sake, with all our progenies, Labour and ruin, let her go; the profit of our land Must pass the beauty." Thus, though these could bear so fit a hand On their affections, yet, when all their gravest powers were us'd, They could not choose but welcome her, and rather they accus'd The Gods than beauty, for thus spake the most fam'd king of Troy : "Come, loved daughter, sit by me, and take the worthy joy Of thy first husband's sight, old friends, and princes near allied, And name me some of these brave Greeks, so manly beautified. Come, do not think I lay the wars endur'd by us on thee, Spiny. Nares says he never met with this word. Thin, thorny-looking. It is peculiarly expressive here. The Gods have sent them, and the tears in which they swum to me. Sit then, and name this goodly Greek, so tall, and broadly spread, Who than the rest, that stand by him, is higher by the head; The bravest man I ever saw, and most majestical, His only presence makes me think him king amongst them all." The fairest of her sex replied: "Most reverend father-in-law, Most lov'd, most fear'd, would some ill death had seiz'd me, when I saw The first mean why I wrong'd you thus; that I had never lost The sight of these my ancient friends, of him that lov'd me most, Of my sole daughter, brothers both, with all those kindly mates, Of one soil, one age, born with me, though under different fates! But these boons envious stars deny; the memory of these In sorrow pines those beauties now that then did too much please; Nor satisfy they your demand, to which I thus reply: That's Agamemnon, Atreus' son, the great in empery; A king, whom double royalty doth crown, being great and good, And one that was my brother-in-law, when I contain'd my blood, And was more worthy; if at all I might be said to be, My being being lost so soon in all that honour'd me." The good old king admir'd, and said: "O Atreus' blessed son, Born unto joyful destinies, that hast the empire won Of such a world of Grecian youths as I discover here, I once march'd into Phrygia, that many vines doth bear, Where many Phrygians I beheld, well skill'd in use of horse, That of the two men, like two Gods, were the commanded force, Otrëus, and great Mygdonus, who on Sangarius' sands Set down their tents, with whom myself, for my assistant bands, Was number'd as a man in chief; the cause of war was then Th' Amazon dames, that in their facts affected to be men. In all there was a mighty pow'r, which yet did never rise Only presence—his mere appearance. Pines—causes to pine. Contained my blood—restrained my passions. To equal these Achaian youths that have the sable eyes." Then (seeing Ulysses next) he said: "Lov'd daughter, what is he That, lower than great Atreus' son, seems by the head to me, Yet, in his shoulders and big breast, presents a broader show? His armour lies upon the earth; he up and down doth go, To see his soldiers keep their ranks, and ready have their arms, If, in this truce, they should be tried by any false alarms. Much like a well-grown bell-wether, or feltred ram, he shows, That walks before a wealthy flock of fair white-fleeced ewes." High Jove and Leda's fairest seed to Priam thus replies : "This is the old Laertes' son, Ulysses, call'd the wise; Who, though unfruitful Ithaca was made his nursing seat, Yet knows he every sort of sleight, and is in counsels great." The wise Antenor answer'd her: "'Tis true, renowned dame, For, some times past, wise Ithacus to Troy a legate came, With Menelaus, for your cause; to whom I gave receipt As guests, and welcom'd to my house, with all the love I might. I learn'd the wisdoms of their souls, and humours of their blood ; For when the Trojan council met, and these together stood, By height of his broad shoulders had Atrides eminence, Yet, set, Ulysses did exceed, and bred more reverence. And when their counsels and their words they wove in one, the speech Of Atreus' son was passing loud, small, fast, yet did not reach To much, being naturally born Laconical, nor would His humour lie for anything, or was, like th' other, old; But when the prudent Ithacus did to his counsels rise, He stood a little still, and fix'd upon the earth his eyes, His sceptre moving neither way, but held it formally, Like one that vainly doth affect. Of wrathful quality, And frantic (rashly judging him) you would have said he was, Feltred—matted close together, like felt; applied to the wool. Blood—disposition, a sense in which it is used by Shakespeare and others. But when out of his ample breast he gave his great voice pass, And words that flew about our ears like drifts of winter's snow, Nonethenceforth might contend with him, though nought admir'd for show." The third man, aged Priam mark'd, was Ajax Telamon, Of whom he ask'd: "What lord is that, so large of limb and bone, So rais'd in height, that to his breast I see there reacheth none ?" To him the Goddess of her sex, the large-veil'd Helen, said: "That lord is Ajax Telamon, a bulwark in their aid. On th' other side stands Idomen, in Crete of most command, And round about his royal sides his Cretan captains stand; Oft hath the warlike Spartan king given hospitable due To him within our Lacene court, and all his retinue. And now the other Achive dukes I generally discern; All which I know, and all their names could make thee quickly learn. Two princes of the people yet I nowhere can behold, Castor, the skilful knight on horse, and Pollux, uncontroll'd For all stand-fights, and force of hand; both at a burthen bred; My natural brothers; either here they have not followed From lovely Sparta, or, arriv'd within the sea-born fleet, In fear of infamy for me in broad field shame to meet." Nor so; for holy Tellus' womb inclos'd those worthy men In Sparta, their beloved soil. The voiceful heralds then The firm agreement of the Gods through all the city ring, Two lambs, and spirit-refreshing wine (the fruit of earth) they bring, Within a goat-skin bottle clos'd; Idæus also brought A massy glittering bowl, and cups, that all of gold were wrought; Which bearing to the king, they cried: "Son of Laomedon Rise, for the well-rode peers of Troy, and brass-arm'd Greeks, in one, Send to thee to descend the field, that they firm vows may make ; For Paris, and the Spartan king, must fight for Helen's sake, With long arm'd lances; and the man that proves victorious, Natural—by the same father and mother. The woman, and the wealth she brought, shall follow to his house; The rest knit friendship, and firm leagues; we safe in Troy shall dwell, In Argos and Achaia they, that do in dames excel." He said; and Priam's aged joints with chilled fear did shake, Yet instantly he bade his men his chariot ready make. Which soon they did, and he ascends. He takes the reins, and guide Antenor calls; who instantly mounts to his royal side, And, through the Scæan ports to field, the swift-foot horse they drive. And when at them of Troy and Greece the aged lords arrive, From horse, on Troy's well-feeding soil, 'twixt both the hosts they go. When straight up rose the king of men, up rose Ulysses too, The heralds in their richest coats repeat (as was the guise) The true vows of the Gods (term'd theirs, since made before their eyes) Then in a cup of gold they mix the wine that each side brings, And next pour water on the hands of both the kings of kings. Which done, Atrides drew his knife, that evermore he put Within the large sheath of his sword, with which away he cut The wool from both fronts of the lambs, which (as a rite in use Of execration to their heads that brake the plighted truce) The heralds of both hosts did give the peers of both; and then, With hands and voice advanc'd to heav'n, thus pray'd the king of men : "O Jove, that Ida dost protect, and hast the titles won Most glorious, most invincible; and thou all-seeing Sun, All-hearing, all re-comforting; Floods; Earth; and Powers beneath, That all the perjuries of men chastise even after death! Be witnesses, and see perform'd the hearty vows we make.— If Alexander shall the life of Menelaus take, He shall from henceforth Helena, with all her wealth, retain, And we will to our household Gods, hoise sail, and home again. If by my honour'd brother's hand be Alexander slain, The Trojans then shall his forc'd queen with all her wealth restore, And pay convenient fine to us, and ours for evermore. If Priam and his sons deny to pay this, thus agreed, When Alexander shall be slain, for that perfidious deed, And for the fine, will I fight here, till dearly they repay, By death and ruin, the amends that falsehood keeps away." This said, the throats of both the lambs cut with his royal knife, He laid them panting on the earth, till, quite depriv'd of life, The steel had robb'd them of their strength; then golden cups they crown'd With wine out of a cistern drawn; which pour'd upon the ground, They fell upon their humble knees to all the Deities, And thus pray'd one of both the hosts that might do sacrifice : "O Jupiter, most high, most great, and all the deathless Powers ! Who first shall dare to violate the late sworn oaths of ours, So let the bloods and brains of them, and all they shall produce, Flow on the stain'd face of the earth, as now this sacred juice; And let their wives with bastardice brand all their future race." Thus pray'd they; but with wish'd effects their pray'rs Jove did not grace; When Priam said: "Lords of both hosts, I can no longer stay To see my lov'd son try his life, and so must take my way To wind-exposed Ilion. Jove yet and heaven's high States Know only which of these must now pay tribute to the Fates." Thus, putting in his coach the lambs, he mounts and reins his horse; Antenor to him; and to Troy both take their speedy course. Then Hector, Priam's martial son, stepp'd forth, and met the ground, With wise Ulysses, where the blows of combat must resound; Which done, into a helm they put two lots, to let them know Which of the combatants should first his brass-pil'd javelin throw; When all the people standing by, with hands held up to heaven, Pray'd Jove the conquest might not be by force or fortune given, But that the man, who was in right the author of most wrong, Might feel his justice, and no more these tedious wars prolong, But, sinking to the house of death, leave them (as long before) Link'd fast in leagues of amity that might dissolve no more. Then Hector shook the helm that held the equal dooms of chance, Met—meted, measured. Brass-piled—brass-pointed. Look'd back, and drew; and Paris first had lot to hurl his lance. The soldiers all sat down enrank'ranked, each by his arms and horse That then lay down and cool'd their hoofs. And now th' allotted course Bids fair-hair'd Helen's husband arm; who first makes fast his greaves With silver buckles to his legs; then on his breast receives The curets that Lycaon wore (his brother) but made fit For his fair body; next his sword he took, and fasten'd it, All damask'd, underneath his arm; his shield then grave and great His shoulders wore; and on his head his glorious helm he set, Topp'd with a plume of horse's hair, that horribly did dance, And seem'd to threaten as he mov'd; at last he takes his lance, Exceeding big, and full of weight, which he with ease could use. In like sort, Sparta's warlike king himself with arms indues. Thus arm'd at either army both, they both stood bravely in, Possessing both hosts with amaze, they came so chin to chin, And, with such horrible aspects, each other did salute. A fair large field was made for them, where wraths, for hugeness mute, And mutual, made them mutually at either shake their darts Before they threw. Then Paris first with his long javelin parts; It smote Atrides' orby targe, but ran not through the brass, For in it (arming well the shield) the head reflected was. Then did the second combatant apply him to his spear, Which ere he threw, he thus besought almighty Jupiter : "O Jove! Vouchsafe me now revenge, and that my enemy, For doing wrong so undeserv'd, may pay deservedly The pains he forfeited; and let these hands inflict those pains, By conquering, ay, by conquering dead, him on whom life complains; That any now, or any one of all the brood of men To live hereafter, may with fear from all offence abstain, Much more from all such foul offence to him that was his host, Curets—cuirass. Sometimes spelt curace, curat, and curiet. Damask'd—inlaid. Reflected—turned back. And entertain'd him as the man whom he affected most." This said, he shook and threw his lance; which struck through Paris' shield, And, with the strength he gave to it, it made the curets yield, His coat of mail, his breast, and all, and drove his entrails in, In that low region where the guts in three small parts begin; Yet he, in bowing of his breast, prevented sable death. This taint he follow'd with his sword, drawn from a silver sheath, Which lifting high, he struck his helm full where his plume did stand, On which it piecemeal brake, and fell from his unhappy hand. At which he sighing stood, and star'd upon the ample sky, And said: "O Jove, there is no God given more illiberally To those that serve thee than thyself, why have I pray'd in vain ? I hop'd my hand should have reveng'd the wrongs I still sustain On him that did them, and still dares their foul defence pursue, And now my lance hath miss'd his end, my sword in shivers flew, And he 'scapes all." With this, again he rush'd upon his guest, And caught him by the horse-hair plume that dangled on his crest, With thought to drag him to the Greeks, which he had surely done, And so, besides the victory, had wondrous glory won, Because the needle-painted lace, with which his helm was tied Beneath his chin, and so about his dainty throat implied, Had strangled him but that, in time, the Cyprian seed of Jove Did break the string, with which was lin'd that which the needle wove, And was the tough thong of a steer, and so the victor's palm Was, for so full a man-at-arms, only an empty helm. That then he swung about his head, and cast among his friends, Who scrambled, and took 't up with shouts. Again then he intends To force the life-blood of his foe, and ran on him amain, With shaken javelin; when the Queen, that lovers loves, again Taint—a term at tilting, when the blow, or thrust, given by the lance, failed in its effect. Halliwell explains it "injuring a lance without breaking it;" Gifford, " breaking a staff, but not in the most honourable manner." Chapman however frequently uses it to express simply a thrust with a spear. When the Queen, &c.—" This place Virgil imitateth."—CHAPMAN. Attended, and now ravish'd him from that encounter quite, With ease, and wondrous suddenly, for she, a Goddess, might. She hid him in a cloud of gold, and never made him known Till in his chamber, fresh and sweet, she gently set him down, And went for Helen, whom she found in Scæa's utmost height, To which whole swarms of city dames had climb'd to see the sight. To give her errand good success, she took on her the shape Of beldame Græa, who was brought by Helen, in her rape, From Lacedæmon, and had trust in all her secrets still, Being old, and had (of all her maids) the main bent of her will, And spun for her her finest wool. Like her, Love's Empress came, Pull'd Helen by the heavenly veil, and softly said : " Madáme, My lord calls for you, you must needs make all your kind haste home; He's in your chamber, stays, and longs; sits by your bed; pray come, 'Tis richly made, and sweet; but he more sweet, and looks so clear, So fresh, and movingly attir'd, that, seeing, you would swear He came not from the dusty fight, but from a courtly dance, Or would to dancing." This she made a charm for dalliance; Whose virtue Helen felt, and knew, by her so radiant eyes, White neck, and most enticing breasts, the deified disguise. At which amaz'd, she answer'd her : “Unhappy Deity! Why lov'st thou still in these deceits to wrap my phantasy? Or whither yet, of all the towns given to their lust beside, In Phrygia, or Mæonia, com'st thou to be my guide, If there (of divers languag'd men) thou hast, as here in Troy, Some other friend to be my shame, since here thy latest joy By Menelaus now subdu'd, by him shall I be borne Home to his court, and end my life in triumphs of his scorn? And, to this end, would thy deceits my wanton life allure? Hence, go thyself to Priam's son, and all the ways abjure Of Gods, or godlike-minded dames, nor ever turn again Thy earth-affecting feet to heaven, but for his sake sustain Beldame—formerly a term of respect for an old woman. Toils here; guard, grace him endlessly, till he requite thy grace By giving thee my place with him; or take his servant's place, If, all dishonourable ways, your favours seek to serve His never-pleas'd incontinence; I better will deserve, Than serve his dotage now. What shame were it for me to feed This lust in him; all honour'd dames would hate me for the deed; He leaves a woman's love so sham'd, and shows so base a mind To feel nor my shame nor his own; griefs of a greater kind Wound me than such as can admit such kind delights so soon." The Goddess, angry that, past shame, her mere will was not done, Replied: " Incense me not, you wretch, lest, once incens'd, I leave Thy curs'd life to as strange a hate, as yet it may receive A love from me; and lest I spread through both hosts such despite, For those plagues they have felt for thee, that both abjure thee quite, And setting thee in midst of both, turn all their wraths on thee, And dart thee dead; that such a death may wreak thy wrong of me." This struck the fair dame with such fear it took her speech away, And, shadow'd in her snowy veil, she durst not but obey; And yet, to shun the shame she fear'd, she vanish'd undescried Of all the Trojan ladies there, for Venus was her guide. Arriv'd at home, her women both fell to their work in haste; When she that was of all her sex the most divinely grac'd Ascended to a higher room, though much against her will, Where lovely Alexander was, being led by Venus still. The Laughter-loving Dame discern'd her mov'd mind by her grace, And, for her mirth' sake, set a stool, full before Paris' face, Where she would needs have Helen sit; who, though she durst not choose But sit, yet look'd away for all the Goddess' pow'r could use, And used her tongue too, and to chide whom Venus sooth'd so much, And chid, too, in this bitter kind: "And was thy cowardice such, So conquer'd, to be seen alive? O would to God, thy life Had perish'd by his worthy hand to whom I first was wife! Before this, thou wouldst glorify thy valour and thy lance, And, past my first love's, boast them far. Go once more, and advance Thy braves against his single power; this foil might fall by chance. Poor conquer'd man! 'Twas such a chance, as I would not advise Thy valour should provoke again. Shun him, thou most unwise, Lest next, thy spirit sent to hell, thy body be his prise." He answer'd: "Pray thee, woman, cease to chide and grieve me thus. Disgraces will not ever last. Look on their end. On us Will other Gods, at other times, let fall the victor's wreath, As on him Pallas put it now. Shall our love sink beneath The hate of fortune? In love's fire let all hates vanish. Come, Love never so inflam'd my heart; no, not when, bringing home Thy beauty's so delicious prise, on Cranaë's blest shore I long'd for, and enjoy'd thee first." With this he went before, She after, to th' odorous bed. While these to pleasure yield, Perplex'd Atrides, savage-like, ran up and down the field, And every thickest troop of Troy, and of their far-call'd aid, Search'd for his foe, who could not be by any eye betray'd; Nor out of friendship (out of doubt) did they conceal his sight, All hated him so like their deaths, and ow'd him such despite. At last thus spake the king of men : "Hear me, ye men of Troy, Ye Dardans, and the rest, whose pow'rs you in their aids employ. The conquest on my brother's part ye all discern is clear, Do you then Argive Helena, with all her treasure here, Restore to us, and pay the mulct that by your vows is due, Yield us an honour'd recompense, and, all that should accrue To our posterities, confirm; that when you render it, Our acts may here be memoris'd." This all Greeks else thought fit.

THE ARGUMENT. THE Gods in council, at the last, decree That famous Ilion shall expugned be; And that their own continued faults may prove The reasons that have so incensed Jove, Minerva seeks, with more offences done Against the lately injur'd Atreus' son, (A ground that clearest would make seen their sin) To have the Lycian Pandarus begin. He ('gainst the truce with sacred covenants bound) Gives Menelaus a dishonour'd wound. Machaon heals him. Agamemnon then To mortal war incenseth all his men. The battles join; and, in the heat of fight, Cold death shuts many eyes in endless night.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. In Delta is the Gods' Assize; The truce is broke; wars freshly rise.

WITHIN the fair-pav'd court of Jove he and the Gods conferr'd About the sad events of Troy; amongst whom minister'd Bless'd Hebe nectar. As they sat, and did Troy's tow'rs behold, They drank, and pledg'd each other round in full-crown'd cups of gold. The mirth at whose feast was begun by great Saturnides In urging a begun dislike amongst the Goddesses, But chiefly in his solemn queen, whose spleen he was dispos'd To tempt yet further, knowing well what anger it inclos'd, And how wives' angers should be used. On which, thus pleas'd, he play'd: "Two Goddesses there are that still give Menelaus aid, And one that Paris loves. The two that sit from us so far (Which Argive Juno is, and She that rules in deeds of war,) No doubt are pleas'd to see how well the late-seen fight did frame; And yet, upon the adverse part, the Laughter-loving Dame Made her power good too for her friend; for, though he were so near The stroke of death in th' others' hopes, she took him from them clear. The conquest yet is questionless the martial Spartan king's. We must consult then what events shall crown these future things, If wars and combats we shall still with even successes strike, Or as impartial friendship plant on both parts. If ye like The last, and that it will as well delight as merely please Your happy deities, still let stand old Priam's town in peace, And let the Lacedæmon king again his queen enjoy." As Pallas and Heaven's Queen sat close, complotting ill to Troy, With silent murmurs they receiv'd this ill-lik'd choice from Jove; Option 'gainst whom was Pallas much incens'd, because the Queen of Love Could not, without his leave, relieve in that late point of death The son of Priam, whom she loath'd; her wrath yet fought beneath Her supreme wisdom, and was curb'd; but Juno needs must ease Her great heart with her ready tongue, and said; "What words are these, Austere, and too-much-Saturn's son? Why wouldst thou render still My labours idle, and the sweat of my industrious will Dishonour with so little power? My chariot horse are tir'd With posting to and fro for Greece, and bringing banes desir'd To people-must'ring Priamus, and his perfidious sons; Yet thou protect'st, and join'st with them whom each just Deity shuns. Go on, but ever go resolv'd all other Gods have vow'd To cross thy partial course for Troy in all that makes it proud." At this, the cloud-compelling Jove a far-fetch'd sigh let fly, And said: "Thou fury! What offence of such impiety Hath Priam or his sons done thee, that, with so high a hate, Thou shouldst thus ceaselessly desire to raze and ruinate So well a builded town as Troy? I think, hadst thou the pow'r, Thou wouldst the ports and far-stretch'd walls fly over, and devour Old Priam and his issue quick, and make all Troy thy feast, And then at length I hope thy wrath and tired spleen would rest, To which run on thy chariot, that nought be found in me Of just cause to our future jars. In this yet strengthen thee, And fix it in thy memory fast, that if I entertain As peremptory a desire to level with the plain A city where thy loved live, stand not betwixt my ire And what it aims at, but give way, when thou hast thy desire, Which now I grant thee willingly, although against my will. For not beneath the ample sun, and heaven's star-bearing hill, There is a town of earthly men so honour'd in my mind As sacred Troy; nor of earth's kings as Priam and his kind, Who never let my altars lack rich feast of off'rings slain, And their sweet savours; for which grace I honour them again." Dread Juno, with the cow's fair eyes, replied: "Three towns there are Of great and eminent respect both in my love and care; Mycene, with the broad highways; and Argos, rich in horse; And Sparta; all which three destroy, when thou envi'st their force, I will not aid them, nor malign thy free and sovereign will, For if I should be envious, and set against their ill, I know my envy were in vain, since thou art mightier far. But we must give each other leave, and wink at either's war. I likewise must have power to crown my works with wished end, Because I am a Deity, and did from thence descend Resolved—informed. Whence thou thyself, and th' elder born; wise Saturn was our sire ; And thus there is a two-fold cause that pleads for my desire, Being sister, and am call'd thy wife; and more, since thy command Rules all Gods else, I claim therein a like superior hand. All wrath before then now remit, and mutually combine In either's empire; I, thy rule, and thou, illustrate, mine; So will the other Gods agree, and we shall all be strong. And first (for this late plot) with speed let Pallas go among The Trojans, and some one of them entice to break the truce By offering in some treacherous wound the honour'd Greeks abuse." The Father both of men and Gods agreed, and Pallas sent, With these wing'd words, to both the hosts : "Make all haste, and invent Some mean by which the men of Troy, against the truce agreed, May stir the glorious Greeks to arms with some inglorious deed." Thus charg'd he her with haste that did before in haste abound, Who cast herself from all the heights with which steep heaven is crown'd; And as Jove, brandishing a star, which men a comet call, Hurls out his curled hair abroad, that from his brand exhals A thousand sparks, to fleets at sea, and every mighty host, Of all presages and ill-haps a sign mistrusted most ; So Pallas fell 'twixt both the camps, and suddenly was lost, When through the breasts of all that saw she struck a strong amaze With viewing in her whole descent her bright and ominous blaze. When straight one to another turn'd, and said: "Now thund'ring Jove (Great Arbiter of peace and arms) will either stablish love Amongst our nations, or renew such war as never was." Thus either army did presage, when Pallas made her pass Amongst the multitude of Troy; who now put on the grace Of brave Laodocus, the flow'r of old Antenor's race, Which men a comet call—so both the folios. Dr. Taylor has printed "which man a comet calls." This certainly suits the rhyme, but I adhere to Chapman's text. And sought for Lycian Pandarus, a man that, being bred Out of a faithless family, she thought was fit to shed The blood of any innocent, and break the covenant sworn; He was Lycaon's son, whom Jove into a wolf did turn For sacrificing of a child, and yet in arms renown'd As one that was inculpable. Him Pallas standing found, And round about him his strong troops that bore the shady shields; He brought them from Aesepus flood let through the Lycian fields; Whom standing near, she whisper'd thus: "Lycaon's warlike son, Shall I despair at thy kind hands to have a favour done? Nor dar'st thou let an arrow fly upon the Spartan king? It would be such a grace to Troy, and such a glorious thing, That every man would give his gift; but Alexander's hand Would load thee with them, if he could discover from his stand His foe's pride struck down with thy shaft, and he himself ascend The flaming heap of funeral. Come, shoot him, princely friend; But first invoke the God of Light, that in thy land was born, And is in archers' art the best that ever sheaf hath worn, To whom a hundred first-ew'd lambs vow thou in holy fire, When safe to sacred Zelia's tow'rs thy zealous steps retire." With this the mad gift-greedy man Minerva did persuade, Who instantly drew forth a bow, most admirably made Of th' antler of a jumping goat bred in a steep up-land, Which archer-like (as long before he took his hidden stand, The evicke skipping from a rock) into the breast he smote, And headlong fell'd him from his cliff. The forehead of the goat A man that being bred out of a faithless family.—This description of Pandarus has been introduced into the text by Chapman from the commentators, as Dr. Taylor observes. The evicke. It is doubtful what this word really is. Dr. Taylor suggests that it may probably mean the evict, or doomed one—but? It is possible Chapman meant to Anglicise the Greek αἴξ; or should we read Ibex, as the αἴξ ἴξαλος was such ? Held out a wondrous goodly palm that sixteen branches brought, Of all which, join'd, an useful bow a skilful bowyer wrought, Which pick'd and polish'd, both the ends he hid with horns of gold. And this bow, bent, he close laid down, and bad his soldiers hold Their shields before him, lest the Greeks, discerning him, should rise In tumults ere the Spartan king could be his arrow's prise. Mean space, with all his care he choos'd, and from his quiver drew, An arrow, feather'd best for flight, and yet that never flew, Strong headed, and most apt to pierce; then took he up his bow, And nock'd his shaft, the ground whence all their future grief did grow. When, praying to his God the Sun, that was in Lycia bred, And king of archers, promising that he the blood would shed Of full an hundred first-fall'n lambs, all offer'd to his name, When to Zelia's sacred walls from rescu'd Troy he came, He took his arrow by the nock, and to his bended breast The oxy sinew close he drew, even till the pile did rest Upon the bosom of the bow; and as that savage prise His strength constrain'd into an orb, as if the wind did rise The coming of it made a noise, the sinew-forged string Did give a mighty twang, and forth the eager shaft did sing, Affecting speediness of flight, amongst the Achive throng. Nor were the blessed Heavenly Pow'rs unmindful of thy wrong, O Menelaus, but, in chief, Jove's seed, the Pillager, Stood close before, and slack'd the force the arrow did confer With as much care and little hurt as doth a mother use, And keep off from her babe, when sleep doth through his pow'rs diffuse His golden humour, and th' assaults of rude and busy flies She still checks with her careful hand; for so the shaft she plies Palm—Nares says " the broad part of a deer's horns, when fully grown." Pick'd—piked, pointed. Nock—the notch of the arrow, where it rests upon the string. Pile—point, barb of the arrow. Prise—here used for grasp. The Pillager— the goddess Ageleia. That on the buttons made of gold which made his girdle fast, And where his curets double were, the fall of it she plac'd. And thus much proof she put it to: the buckle made of gold; The belt it fast'ned, bravely wrought; his curets' double fold; And last, the charmed plate he wore which help'd him more than all, And, 'gainst all darts and shafts bestow'd, was to his life a wall; So, through all these, the upper skin the head did only race; Yet forth the blood flow'd, which did much his royal person grace, And show'd upon his ivory skin, as doth a purple dye Laid, by a dame of Caïra, or lovely Mæony, On ivory, wrought in ornaments to deck the cheeks of horse; Which in her marriage room must lie; whose beauties have such force That they are wish'd of many knights, but are such precious things, That they are kept for horse that draw the chariots of kings, Which horse, so deck'd, the charioteer esteems a grace to him; Like these, in grace, the blood upon thy solid thighs did swim, O Menelaus, down thy calves and ankles to the ground. For nothing decks a soldier so, as doth an honour'd wound. Yet, fearing he had far'd much worse, the hair stood up on end On Agamemnon, when he saw so much black blood descend; And stiff'ned with the like dismay was Menelaus too, But seeing th' arrow's stale without, and that the head did go No further than it might be seen, he call'd his spirits again; Which Agamemnon marking not, but thinking he was slain, He grip'd his brother by the hand, and sigh'd as he would break, Which sigh the whole host took from him, who thus at last did speak : "O dearest brother, is't for this, that thy death must be wrought, Wrought I this truce? For this hast thou the single combat fought Race—rase, slightly scratch. I have retained this orthography throughout, for the rhyme's sake. Stale—" stele, the stem or stalk of any thing. The stem or body of an arrow;—' A shaft hath three principle parts, the stele, the fethers, and the head.' ASCHAM'S Toxophilus, p. 161." NARES'S GLOSS. in voc. For all the army of the Greeks? For this hath Ilion sworn, And trod all faith beneath their feet? Yet all this hath not worn The right we challeng'd out of force; this cannot render vain Our stricken right hands, sacred wine, nor all our off'rings slain; For though Olympius be not quick in making good our ill, He will be sure as he is slow, and sharplier prove his will. Their own hands shall be ministers of those plagues they despise, Which shall their wives and children reach, and all their progenies. For both in mind and soul I know that there shall come a day When Ilion, Priam, all his pow'r, shall quite be worn away, When heaven-inhabiting Jove shall shake his fiery shield at all, For this one mischief. This, I know, the world cannot recall. But be all this, all my grief still for thee will be the same, Dear brother. If thy life must here put out his royal flame, I shall to sandy Argos turn with infamy my face; And all the Greeks will call for home; old Priam and his race Will flame in glory; Helena untouch'd be still their prey; And thy bones in our enemies' earth our cursed fates shall lay; Thy sepulchre be trodden down; the pride of Troy desire Insulting on it, 'Thus, O thus, let Agamemnon's ire In all his acts be expiate, as now he carries home His idle army, empty ships, and leaves here overcome Good Menelaus.' When this brave breaks in their hated breath, Then let the broad earth swallow me, and take me quick to death.” "Nor shall this ever chance," said he, "and therefore be of cheer, Lest all the army, led by you, your passions put in fear. The arrow fell in no such place as death could enter at, My girdle, curets doubled here, and my most trusted plate, Objected all 'twixt me and death, the shaft scarce piercing one." "Good brother," said the king, " I wish it were no further gone, For then our best in medicines skill'd shall ope and search the wound, Applying balms to ease thy pains, and soon restore thee sound." Objected—interposed. This said, divine Talthybius he call'd, and bad him haste Machaon, Esculapius' son, who most of men was grac'd With physic's sovereign remedies, to come and lend his hand To Menelaus shot by one well-skill'd in the command Of bow and arrows, one of Troy, or of the Lycian aid, Who much hạth glorified our foe, and us as much dismayd. He heard, and hasted instantly, and cast his eyes about The thickest squadrons of the Greeks, to find Machaon out. He found him standing guarded well with well-arm'd men of Thrace; With whom he quickly join'd, and said: "Man of Apollo's race, Haste, for the king of men commands, to see a wound impress'd In Menelaus, great in arms, by one instructed best In th' art of archery, of Troy, or of the Lycian bands, That them with much renown adorns, us with dishonour brands." Machaon much was mov'd with this, who with the herald flew From troop to troop alongst the host, and soon they came in view Of hurt Atrides circled round with all the Grecian kings, Who all gave way, and straight he draws the shaft, which forth he brings Without the forks; the girdle then, plate, curets, off he plucks, And views the wound; when first from it the clotter'd blood he sucks, Then medicines, wondrously compos'd, the skilful leech applied, Which loving Chiron taught his sire, he from his sire had tried. While these were thus employ'd to ease the Atrean martialist, The Trojans arm'd, and charg'd the Greeks; the Greeks arm and resist. Then not asleep, nor maz'd with fear, nor shifting off the blows, You could behold the king of men, but in full speed he goes To set a glorious fight on foot; and he examples this, With toiling, like the worst, on foot; who therefore did dismiss His brass-arm'd' chariot, and his steeds, with Ptolemeus' son, Son of Piraides, their guide, the good Eurymedon; "Yet," said the king, " attend with them, lest weariness should seize My limbs, surcharg'd with ordering troops so thick and vast as these." Eurymedon then rein'd his horse, that trotted neighing by; The king a footman, and so scours the squadrons orderly. Those of his swiftly-mounted Greeks that in their arms were fit, Those he put on with cheerful words, and bad them not remit The least spark of their forward spirits, because the Trojans durst Take these abhorr'd advantages, but let them do their worst; For they might be assur'd that Jove would patronise no lies, And that who with the breach of truce would hurt their enemies With vultures should be torn themselves; that they should raze their town, Their wives, and children at their breast, led vassals to their own. But such as he beheld hang off from that increasing fight, Such would he bitterly rebuke, and with disgrace excite: "Base Argives, blush ye not to stand as made for butts to darts? Why are ye thus discomfited like hinds that have no hearts, Who, wearied with a long-run field, are instantly emboss'd, Stand still, and in their beastly breasts is all their courage lost? And so stand you struck with amaze, nor dare to strike a stroke. Would ye the foe should nearer yet your dastard spleens provoke, Even where on Neptune's foamy shore our navies lie in sight, To see if Jove will hold your hands, and teach ye how to fight?" Thus he, commanding, rang'd the host, and, passing many a band, He came to the Cretensian troops, where all did armed stand About the martial Idomen; who bravely stood before In vanguard of his troops, and match'd for strength a savage boar, Meriones, his charioteer, the rearguard bringing on. Which seen to Atreus' son, to him it was a sight alone, And Idomen's confirmed mind with these kind words he seeks: "O Idomen! I ever lov'd thy self past all the Greeks, In war, or any work of peace, at table, every where; For when the best of Greece besides mix ever at our cheer Emboss'd. A hunting term. "When the hart is foamy at the mouth, we say, that he is embossed."—TURBERVILLE on Hunt. p. 242. See NARES'S GLOSSARY. My good old ardent wine with small, and our inferior mates Drink even that mix'd wine measur'd too, thou drink'st, without those rates, Our old wine neat, and evermore thy bowl stands full like mine, To drink still when and what thou wilt. Then rouse that heart of thine, And, whatsoever heretofore thou hast assum'd to be, This day be greater." To the king in this sort answer'd he: "Atrides, what I ever seem'd, the same at every part This day shall show me at the full, and I will fit thy heart. But thou shouldst rather cheer the rest, and tell them they in right Of all good war must offer blows, and should begin the fight, (Since Troy first brake the holy truce) and not endure these braves, To take wrong first, and then be dar'd to the revenge it craves; Assuring them that Troy in fate must have the worse at last, Since first, and gainst a truce, they hurt, where they should have embrac'd." This comfort and advice did fit Atrides' heart indeed, Who still through new-rais'd swarms of men held his laborious speed, And came where both th' Ajaces stood; whom like the last he found Arm'm'd, casqued, and ready for the fight. Behind them, hid the ground A cloud of foot, that seem'd to smoke. And as a goatherd spies, On some hill's top, out of the sea, a rainy vapour rise, Driven by the breath of Zephyrus, which, though far off he rest, Comes on as black as pitch, and brings a tempest in his breast, Whereat he frighted, drives his herds apace into a den; So dark'ning earth with darts and shields show'd these with all their men. This sight with like joy fir'd the king, who thus let forth the flame In crying out to both the dukes: "O you of equal name, I must not cheer, nay, I disclaim all my command of you, Yourselves command with such free minds, and make your soldiers show, As you nor I led, but themselves. O would our father Jove, Minerva, and the God of Light, would all our bodies move With such brave spirits as breathe in you, then Priam's lofty town Should soon be taken by our hands, for ever overthrown !" Rates—ratifications, agreements. Here perhaps, qualifications. Then held he on to other troops, and Nestor next beheld, The subtle Pylian orator, range up and down the field, Embattelling his men at arms, and stirring all to blows, Points every legion out his chief, and every chief he shows The forms and discipline of war, yet his commanders were All éxpert, and renowned men. Great Pelagon was there, Alastor, manly Chromius, and Hæmon worth a throne, And Bias that could armies lead. With these he first put on His horse troops with their chariots; his foot (of which he choos'd Many, the best and ablest men, and which he ever us'd As rampire to his general power) he in the rear dispos'd. The slothful, and the least in spirit, he in the midst inclos'd, That such as wanted noble wills base need might force to stand. His horse troops, that the vanguard had, he strictly did command To ride their horses temperately, to keep their ranks, and shun Confusion, lest their horsemanship and courage made them run (Too much presum'd on) much too far, and, charging so alone, Engage themselves in th' enemy's strength, where many fight with one. "Who his own chariot leaves to range, let him not freely go, But straight unhorse him with a lance; for 'tis much better so. And with this discipline," said he, " this form, these minds, this trust, Our ancestors have walls and towns laid level with the dust." Thus prompt, and long inur'd to arms, this old man did exhort; And this Atrides likewise took in wondrous cheerful sort, And said: " O father, would to heaven, that as thy mind remains In wonted vigour, so thy knees could undergo our pains! But age, that all men overcomes, hath made his prise on thee; Yet still I wish that some young man, grown old in mind, might be Put in proportion with thy years, and thy mind, young in age, Be fitly answer'd with his youth; that still where conflicts rage, And young men us'd to thirst for fame, thy brave exampling hand Might double our young Grecian spirits, and grace our whole command." The old knight answer'd: "I myself could wish, O Atreus' son, I were as young as when I slew brave Ereuthalion, But Gods at all times give not all their gifts to mortal men. If then I had the strength of youth, I miss'd the counsels then That years now give me; and now years want that main strength of youth; Yet still my mind retains her strength (as you now said the sooth) And would be where that strength is us'd, affording counsels sage To stir youth's minds up; 'tis the grace and office of our age; Let younger sinews, men sprung up whole ages after me, And such as have strength, use it, and as strong in honour be." The king, all this while comforted, arriv'd next where he found Well-rode Menestheus (Peteus' son) stand still, inviron'd round With his well-train'd Athenian troops; and next to him he spied The wise Ulysses, deedless too, and all his bands beside Of strong Cephalians; for as yet th' alarm had not been heard In all their quarters, Greece and Troy were then so newly stirr'd, And then first mov'd, as they conceiv'd; and they so look'd about To see both hosts give proof of that they yet had cause to doubt. Atrides seeing them stand so still, and spend their eyes at gaze, Began to chide: "And why," said he, " dissolv'd thus in amaze, Thou son of Peteus, Jove-nurs'd king, and thou in wicked sleight A cunning soldier, stand ye off? Expect ye that the fight Should be by other men begun? 'Tis fit the foremost band Should show you there; you first should front who first lifts up his hand. First you can hear when I invite the princes to a feast, When first, most friendly, and at will, ye eat and drink the best, Yet in the fight, most willingly, ten troops ye can behold Take place before ye." Ithacus at this his brows did fold, And said: "How hath thy violent tongue broke through thy set of teeth To say that we are slack in fight, and to the field of death Sooth—truth, a common word. Thus Shakespeare,— "He looks like sooth; he says he loves my daughter, I think so too." — Wint. Tale, IV. 3. Look others should enforce our way, when we were busied then, Even when thou speak'st against the foe to cheer and lead our men? But thy eyes shall be witnesses, if it content thy will, And that (as thou pretend'st) these cares do so affect thee still, The father of Telemachus (whom I esteem so dear, And to whom, as a legacy, I'll leave my deeds done here) Even with the foremost band of Troy hath his encounter dar'd, And therefore are thy speeches vain, and had been better spar'd." He, smiling, since he saw him mov'd, recall'd his words, and said : "Most generous Laertes' son, most wise of all our aid, I neither do accuse thy worth, more than thyself may hold Fit, (that inferiors think not much, being slack, to be controll'd) Nor take I on me thy command; for well I know thy mind Knows how sweet gentle counsels are, and that thou stand'st inclin'd, As I myself, for all our good. On then; if now we spake What hath displeas'd, another time we full amends will make; And Gods grant that thy virtue here may prove so free and brave That my reproofs may still be vain, and thy deservings grave." Thus parted they; and forth he went, when he did leaning find, Against his chariot, near his horse, him with the mighty mind, Great Diomedes, Tydeus' son, and Sthenelus, the seed Of Capaneius; whom the king seeing likewise out of deed, Thus cried he out on Diomed: "O me! In what a fear The wise great warrior, Tydeus' son, stands gazing everywhere For others to begin the fight! It was not Tydeus' use To be so daunted, whom his spirit would evermore produce Before the foremost of his friends in these affairs of fright, As they report that have beheld him labour in a fight. For me, I never knew the man, nor in his presence came, But excellent, above the rest, he was in general fame; And one renown'd exploit of his, I am assur'd, is true. He came to the Mycenian court, without arms, and did sue At godlike Polynices' hands to have some worthy aid To their designs that 'gainst the walls of sacred Thebes were laid. He was great Polynices' guest, and nobly entertain'd, And of the kind Mycenian state what he requested gain'd, In mere consent; but when they should the same in act approve, By some sinister prodigies, held out to them by Jove, They were discourag'd. Thence he went, and safely had his pass Back to Asopus flood, renown'd for bulrushes and grass. Yet, once more, their ambassador, the Grecian peers address Lord Tydeus to Eteocles; to whom being given access, He found him feasting with a crew of Cadmeans in his hall; Amongst whom, though an enemy, and only one to all, To all yet he his challenge made at every martial feat, And eas'ly foil'd all, since with him Minerva was so great. The rank-rode Cadmeans, much incens'd with their so foul disgrace, Lodg'd ambuscadoes for their foe in some well-chosen place By which he was to make return. Twice five-and-twenty men, And two of them great captains too, the ambush did contain. The names of those two men of rule were Mæon, Hæmon's son, And Lycophontes, Keep-field call'd, the heir of Autophon, By all men honour'd like the Gods; yet these and all their friends Were sent to hell by Tydeus' hand, and had untimely ends. He trusting to the aid of Gods, reveal'd by augury, Obeying which one chief he sav'd, and did his life apply To be the heavy messenger of all the others' deaths; And that sad message, with his life, to Mæon he bequeaths. So brave a knight was Tydeus; of whom a son is sprung, Inferior far in martial deeds, though higher in his tongue." The construction is, “Once more the Grecian peers address (send) Tydeus to Eteocles as their ambassador." Rank-rode—daring-riders. Keep-field. The original is μενεπτόλεμος, one who remains in the battle. Dr. Taylor observes, "This is one of the happiest of Chapman's translations of Homer's compound epithets." All this Tydides silent heard, aw'd by the reverend king; Which stung hot Sthenelus with wrath, who thus put forth his sting: "Atrides, when thou know'st the truth, speak what thy knowledge is, And do not lie so; for I know, and I will brag in this, That we are far more able men than both our fathers were. We took the seven-fold ported Thebes, when yet we had not there So great help as our fathers had; and fought beneath a wall, Sacred to Mars, by help of Jove, and trusting to the fall Of happy signs from other Gods, by whom we took the town Untouch'd; our fathers perishing there by follies of their own; And therefore never more compare our fathers' worth with ours." Tydides frown'd at this, and said: "Suppress thine anger's pow'rs, Good friend, and hear why I refrain'd. Thou seest I am not mov'd 'Gainst our general, since he did but what his place behoov'd, Admonishing all Greeks to fight; for, if Troy prove our prise, The honour and the joy is his, if here our ruin lies, The shame and grief for that as much is his in greatest kinds. As he then his charge, weigh we ours; which is our dauntless minds." Thus, from his chariot, amply arm'd, he jump'd down to the ground. The armour of the angry king so horribly did sound, It might have made his bravest foe let fear take down his braves. And as when with the west-wind flaws the sea thrusts up her waves, One after other, thick and high, upon the groaning shores, First in herself loud, but oppos'd with banks and rocks she roars, And, all her back in bristles set, spits every way her foam; So after Diomed instantly the field was overcome With thick impressions of the Greeks, and all the noise that grew (Ordering and cheering up their men) from only leaders flew. The rest went silently away, you could not hear a voice, Nor would have thought in all their breasts they had one in their choice, Their silence uttering their awe of them that them controll'd, Which made each man keep bright his arms, march, fight still where he should. The Trojans, like a sort of ewes penn'd in a rich man's fold, Close at his door, till all be milk'd, and never baaing hold Hearing the bleating of their lambs, did all their wide host fill With shouts and clamours, nor observ'd one voice, one baaing still, But show'd mix'd tongues from many a land of men call'd to their aid. Rude Mars had th' ordering of their spirits; of Greeks, the learned Maid. But Terror follow'd both the hosts, and Flight, and furious Strife (The sister, and the mate, of Mars) that spoil of human life; And never is her rage at rest, at first she is but small, Yet after, but a little fed, she grows so vast and tall That, while her feet move here in earth, her forehead is in heaven; And this was she that made even then both hosts so deadly given. Through every troop she stalk'd, and stirr'd rough sighs up as she went; But when in one field both the foes her fury did content, And both came under reach of darts, then darts and shields oppos'd To darts and shields; strength answer'd strength; then swords and targets clos'd With swords and targets; both with pikes; and then did tumult rise Up to her height; then conquerors' boasts mix'd with the conquer'd's cries; Earth flow'd with blood. And as from hills rain-waters headlong fall, That all ways eat huge ruts, which, met in one bed, fill a vall With such a confluence of streams that on the mountain grounds Far off, in frighted shepherds' ears, the bustling noise rebounds : So grew their conflicts, and so show'd their scuffling to the ear, With flight and clamour still commix'm'ix'd, and all effects of fear. And first renown'd Antilochus slew (fighting, in the face Of all Achaia's foremost bands, with an undaunted grace) Sort—set, or, as we say, a lot of pigs, sheep, &c. "Remember who you are to cope withall, / A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways." — SHAKESPEARE. Rich. III. v. 3. The learned Maid—Pallas. Chapman observes that Virgil has applied this description of Strife to Fame. Vall—ravine, valley. Echepolus Thalysiades; he was an armed man; Whom on his hair-plum'd helmet's crest the dart first smote, then ran Into his forehead, and there stuck; the steel pile making way Quite through his skull; a hasty night shut up his latest day. His fall was like a fight-rac'd tow'r; like which lying there dispread, King Elephenor (who was son to Chalcodon, and led The valiant Abants) covetous that he might first possess His arms, laid hands upon his feet, and hal'd him from the press Of darts and javelins hurl'd at him. The action of the king When great-in-heart Agenor saw, he made his javelin sing To th' others' labour; and along as he the trunk did wrest, His side (at which he bore his shield) in bowing of his breast Lay naked, and receiv'd the lance that made him lose his hold And life together; which, in hope of that he lost, he sold. But for his sake the fight grew fierce, the Trojans and their foes Like wolves on one another rush'd, and man for man it goes. The next of name, that serv'd his fate, great Ajax Telamon Preferr'd so sadly. He was heir to old Anthemion, And deck'd with all the flow'r of youth, the fruit of which yet fled Before the honour'd nuptial torch could light him to his bed. His name was Simoisius; for, some few years before, His mother walking down the hill of Ida, by the shore Of silver Simois, to see her parents' flocks, with them She, feeling suddenly the pains of child-birth, by the stream Of that bright river brought him forth; and so (of Simois) They call'd him Simoisius. Sweet was that birth of his To his kind parents, and his growth did all their care employ; And yet those rites of piety, that should have been his joy To pay their honour'd years again in as affectionate sort, He could not graciously perform, his sweet life was so short, Fight-raced—razed in battle. An unworthy conceit of Chapman's, as Dr. Taylor observes, and unwarranted. Cut off with mighty Ajax' lance; for, as his spirit put on, He struck him at his breast's right pap, quite through his shoulder-bone, And in the dust of earth he fell that was the fruitful soil Of his friends' hopes; but where he sow'd he buried all his toil. And as a poplar shot aloft, set by a river side, In moist edge of a mighty fen, his head in curls implied, But all his body plain and smooth, to which a wheelwright puts The sharp edge of his shining axe, and his soft timber cuts From his innative root, in hope to hew out of his bole The fell'ffs, or out-parts of a wheel, that compass in the whole, To serve some goodly chariot, but being big and sad, And to be hal'd home through the bogs, the useful hope he had Sticks there, and there the goodly plant lies withering out his grace : So lay, by Jove-bred Ajax' hand, Anthemion's forward race, Nor could through that vast fen of toils be drawn to serve the ends Intended by his body's pow'rs, nor cheer his aged friends. But now the gay-arm'd Antiphus, a son of Priam, threw His lance at Ajax through the press, which went by him, and flew On Leucus, wise Ulysses' friend; his groin it smote, as fain He would have drawn into his spoil the carcass of the slain, By which he fell, and that by him; it vex'd Ulysses heart, Who thrust into the face of fight, well arm'd at every part, Came close, and look'd about to find an object worth his lance; Which when the Trojans saw him shake, and he so near advance, All shrunk, he threw, and forth it shin'd, nor fell but where it fell'd, His friend's grief gave it angry pow'r, and deadly way it held Upon Democoon, who was sprung of Priam's wanton force, Came from Abydus, and was made the master of his horse. As his spirit put on—urged him forwards. Fell'ffs—fellies of a wheel. Sad—heavy. In the North the word is applied to bread, when the dough, from bad yeast, or not being well kneaded, does not rise properly. HALLIWELL, ARCHAIC AND PROVIN. DICT. From line 516 to this, Chapman has unwarrantably amplified, and somewhat distorted, the original. Nor fell but where it fell'd—a silly quibble of Chapman's. Through both his temples struck the dart, the wood of one side show'd, The pile out of the other look'd, and so the earth he strew'd With much sound of his weighty arms. Then back the foremost went ; Even Hector yielded; then the Greeks gave worthy clamours vent, Effecting then their first-dumb powers; some drew the dead, and spoil'd; Some follow'd, that, in open flight, Troy might confess it foil'd. Apollo, angry at the sight, from top of Ilion cried : "Turn head, ye well-rode peers of Troy, feed not the Grecians' pride, They are not charm'd against your points, of steel, nor iron, fram'm'd; Nor fights the fair-hair'd Thetis' son, but sits at fleet inflam'd." So spake the dreadful God from Troy. The Greeks Jove's noblest Seed Encourag'd to keep on the chace, and, where fit spirit did need, She gave it, marching in the midst. Then flew the fatal hour Back on Diores, in return of Ilion's sun-burn'd pow'r; Diores Amaryncides, whose right leg's ankle-bone, And both the sinews, with a sharp and handful-charging stone Pirus Imbrasides did break, that led the Thracian bands And came from Aenos; down he fell, and up he held his hands To his lov'd friends; his spirit wing'd to fly out of his breast; With which not satisfied, again Imbrasides address'd His javelin at him, and so ripp'd his navel, that the wound, As endlessly it shut his eyes, so, open'd, on the ground It pour'd his entrails. As his foe went then suffic'd away, Thoas Aetolius threw a dart that did his pile convey, Above his nipple, through his lungs; when, quitting his stern part, He clos'd with him, and, from his breast first drawing out his dart, His sword flew in, and by the midst it wip'd his belly out; So took his life, but left his arms; his friends so flock'd about, And thrust forth lances of such length before their slaughter'd king, Which, though their foe were big and strong, and often brake the ring Of steel, nor iron, fram'd. i. e. they (the Greeks) are not framed of steel or iron. Jove's noblest Seed—Pallas. His stern part—breast-bone; from the Greek στέρνον. Forg'd of their lances, yet (enforc'd) he left th' affected prise. The Thracian and Epeian dukes, laid close with closed eyes By either other, drown'd in dust, and round about the plain All hid with slaughter'd carcases, yet still did hotly reign The martial planet, whose effects had any eye beheld, Free and unwounded (and were led by Pallas through the field, To keep off javelins, and suggest the least fault could be found) He could not reprehend the fight, so many strew'd the ground.

THE ARGUMENT. KING Diomed (by Pallas' spirit inspir'd With will and power) is for his acts admir'd. Mere men, and men deriv'd from Deities, And Deities themselves, he terrifies. Adds wounds to terrors. His inflamed lance Draws blood from Mars, and Venus. In a trance He casts Aeneas, with a weighty stone; Apollo quickens him, and gets him gone. Mars is recur'd by Pæon, but by Jove Rebuk'd for authoring breach of human love.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. In Epsilon, Heaven's blood is shed By sacred rage of Diomed.

THEN Pallas breath'd in Tydeus' son; to render whom supreme To all the Greeks, at all his parts, she cast a hotter beam On his high mind, his body fill'd with much superior might, And made his cómplete armour cast a far more cómplete light. From his bright helm and shield did burn a most unwearied fire, Like rich Autumnus' golden lamp, whose brightness men admire Past all the other host of stars, when, with his cheerful face Fresh wash'd in lofty Ocean waves, he doth the skies enchase. "This simile likewise Virgil learns of him."—CHAPMAN. Autumnus' golden lamp—Sirius, or the Dog Star. To let whose glory lose no sight, still Pallas made him turn Where tumult most express'd his power, and where the fight did burn. An honest and a wealthy man inhabited in Troy, Dares the priest of Mulciber, who two sons did enjoy, Idæus, and bold Phegeus, well seen in every fight. These (singled from their troops, and hors'd) assail'd Minerva's knight, Who rang'd from fight to fight on foot. All hasting mutual charge, And now drawn near, first Phegeus threw a javelin swift and large, Whose head the king's left shoulder took, but did no harm at all; Then rush'd he out a lance at him, that had no idle fall, But in his breast stuck 'twixt the paps, and struck him from his horse. Which stern sight when Idæus saw, distrustful of his force To save his slaughter'd brother's spoil, it made him headlong leap From his fair chariot, and leave all, yet had not 'scap'd the heap Of heavy funeral, if the God, great President of fire, Had not in sudden clouds of smoke, and pity of his sire To leave him utterly unheir'd, given safe pass to his feet. He gone, Tydides sent the horse and chariot to the fleet. The Trojans seeing Dares' sons, one slain, the other fled, Were struck amaz'd. The blue-ey'd Maid, to grace her Diomed In giving free way to his power, made this so ruthful fact A fit advantage to remove the War-god out of act, Who rag'd so on the Ilion side. She grip'd his hand, and said : "Mars, Mars, thou ruiner of men, that in the dust hast laid So many cities, and with blood thy godhead dost distain, Now shall we cease to show our breasts as passionate as men, And leave the mixture of our hands, resigning Jove his right, As Rector of the Gods, to give the glory of the fight Where he affecteth, lest he force what we should freely yield?" He held it fit, and went with her from the tumultuous field, Who set him in a herby seat on broad Scamander's shore. He gone, all Troy was gone with him, the Greeks drave all before, And every leader slew a man; but first the king of men Deserv'd the honour of his name, and led the slaughter then, And slew a leader, one more huge than any man he led, Great Odius, duke of Halizons; quite from his chariot's head He struck him with a lance to earth, as first he flight address'd; It took his forward-turned back, and look'd out of his breast; His huge trunk sounded, and his arms did echo the resound. Idomenæus to the death did noble Phæstus wound, The son of Meon-Borus, that from cloddy Terna came; Who, taking chariot, took his wound, and tumbled with the same From his attempted seat; the lance through his right shoulder strook, And horrid darkness struck through him; the spoil his soldiers took. Atrides-Menelaus slew, as he before him fled, Scamandrius, son of Strophius, that was a huntsman bred; A skilful huntsman, for his skill Diana's self did teach, And make him able with his dart infallibly to reach All sorts of subtlest savages, which many a woody hill Bred for him, and he much preserv'd, and all to show his skill. Yet not the dart-delighting Queen taught him to shun this dart, Nor all his hitting so far off, the mast'ry of his art; His back receiv'd it, and he fell upon his breast withal; His body's ruin, and his arms, so sounded in his fall, That his affrighted horse flew off, and left him, like his life. Meriones slew Phereclus, whom she that ne'er was wife, Yet Goddess of good housewives, held in excellent respect For knowing all the witty things that grace an architect, And having pow'r to give it all the cunning use of hand. Harmonides, his sire, built ships, and made him understand, With all the practice it requir'd, the frame of all that skill. He built all Alexander's ships, that author'd all the ill Of all the Trojans and his own, because he did not know The oracles advising Troy, for fear of overthrow, Goddess of housewives—Minerva. To meddle with no sea affair, but live by tilling land. This man Meriones surpris'd, and drave his deadly hand Through his right hip; the lance's head ran through the region About the bladder, underneath th' in-muscles and the bone; He, sighing, bow'd his knees to death, and sacrific'd to earth. Phylides stay'd Pedæus' flight, Antenor's bastard birth, Whom virtuous Theano his wife, to please her husband, kept As tenderly as those she lov'd. Phylides near him stept, And in the fountain of his nerves did drench his fervent lance, At his head's back-part; and so far the sharp head did advance, It cleft the organ of his speech, and th' iron, cold as death, He took betwixt his grinning teeth, and gave the air his breath. Eurypylus, the much renown'd, and great Evemon's son, Divine Hypsenor slew, begot by stout Dolopion, And consecrate Scamander's priest; he had a God's regard Amongst the people; his hard flight the Grecian follow'd hard, Rush'd in so close, that with his sword he on his shoulder laid A blow that his arm's brawn cut off; nor there his vigour stay'd, But drave down, and from off his wrist it hew'd his holy hand That gush'd out blood, and down it dropp'd upon the blushing sand; Death, with his purple finger, shut, and violent fate, his eyes. Thus fought these, but distinguish'd well. Tydides so implies His fury that you could not know whose side had interest In his free labours, Greece or Troy; but as a flood, increas'd By violent and sudden show'rs, let down from hills, like hills Melted in fury, swells and foams, and so he overfills His natural channel, that besides both hedge and bridge resigns To his rough confluence, far spread and lusty flourishing vines Drown'd in his outrage; Tydeus' son so overran the field, Strew'd such as flourish'd in his way, and made whole squadrons yield. When Pandarus, Lycaon's son, beheld his ruining hand, With such resistless insolence, make lanes through every band, Fountain of the nerves—nape of the neck. He bent his gold-tipp'd bow of horn, and shot him rushing in, At his right shoulder, where his arms were hollow; forth did spin The blood, and down his curets ran; then Pandarus cried out: "Rank-riding Trojans, now rush in. Now, now, I make no doubt Our bravest foe is mark'd for death; he cannot long sustain My violent shaft, if Jove's fair Son did worthily constrain My foot from Lycia." Thus he brav'd, and yet his violent shaft Struck short with all his violence, Tydides' life was saft; Who yet withdrew himself behind his chariot and steeds, And call'd to Sthenelus: "Come friend, my wounded shoulder needs Thy hand to ease it of this shaft." He hasted from his seat Before the coach, and drew the shaft; the purple wound did sweat, And drown his shirt of mail in blood, and as it bled he pray'd: "Hear me, of Jove-Aegiochus thou most unconquer'd Maid! If ever in the cruel field thou hast assistful stood Or to my father, or myself, now love, and do me good. Give him into my lance's reach that thus hath given a wound To him thou guard'st, preventing me, and brags that never more I shall behold the cheerful sun." Thus did the king implore. The Goddess heard, came near, and took the weariness of fight From all his nerves and lineaments, and made them fresh and light, And said: "Be bold, O Diomed, in every combat shine, The great shield-shaker Tydeus' strength (that knight, that sire of thine) By my infusion breathes in thee; and from thy knowing mind I have remov'd those erring mists that made it lately blind, That thou may'st difference Gods from men, and therefore use thy skill Against the tempting Deities, if any have a will To try if thou presum'st of that, as thine, that flows from them, And so assum'st above thy right. Where thou discern'st a beam Of any other Heavenly Power than She that rules in love That calls thee to the change of blows, resist not, but remove; Saft—secured, saved. The past tense of the verb to safe, to secure, or make safe, used by Shakespeare. But if that Goddess be so bold, since she first stirr'd this war, Assault and mark her from the rest with some infamous scar." The blue-eyed Goddess vanished, and he was seen again Amongst the foremost, who before though he were prompt and fain To fight against the Trojans' powers, now, on his spirits were call'd With thrice the vigour; lion-like, that hath been lately gall'd By some bold shepherd in a field, where his curl'd flocks were laid, Who took him as he leap'd the fold, not slain yet, but appaid With greater spirit, comes again, and then the shepherd hides, (The rather for the desolate place) and in his cote abides, His flocks left guardless, which, amaz'd, shake and shrink up in heaps, He, ruthless, freely takes his prey, and out again he leaps; So sprightly, fierce, victorious, the great heroë flew Upon the Trojans, and, at once, he two commanders slew, Hypenor and Astynous; in one his lance he fix'd Full at the nipple of his breast, the other smote betwixt The neck and shoulder with his sword, which was so well laid on It swept his arm and shoulder off. These left, he rush'd upon Abas and Polyëidus, of old Eurydamas The hapless sons, who could by dreams tell what would come to pass, Yet, when his sons set forth to Troy, the old man could not read By their dreams what would chance to them, for both were stricken dead By great Tydides. After these, he takes into his rage Xanthus and Thoön, Phænops' sons, born to him in his age; The good old man even pin'd with years, and had not one son more To heir his goods, yet Diomed took both, and left him store Of tears and sorrows in their steads, since he could never see His sons leave those hot wars alive; so this the end must be Of all his labours; what he heap'd to make his issue great Authority heir'd, and with her seed fill'd his forgotten seat. Authority heir'd—The word that Chapman here translates authority is in the Greek χηρωσταί, and means those more remote relatives who succeeded by authority, or law, to the property when there had been a χήρωσις, or the family had lost its nearer heirs. Then snatch'd he up two Priamists that in one chariot stood, Echemon, and fair Chromius. As feeding in a wood Oxen or steers are, one of which a lion leaps upon, Tears down, and wrings in two his neck; so, sternly, Tydeus' son Threw from their chariot both these hopes of old Dardanides, Then took their arms, and sent their horse to those that ride the seas. Aeneas, seeing the troops thus toss'd, brake through the heat of fight, And all the whizzing of the darts, to find the Lycian knight, Lycaon's son; whom having found, he thus bespake the peer: “O Pandarus, where's now thy bow, thy deathful arrows where, In which no one in all our host but gives the palm to thee, Nor in the sun-lov'd Lycian greens, that breed our archery, Lives any that exceeds thyself? Come, lift thy hands to Jove, And send an arrow at this man, if but a man he prove, That wins such god-like victories, and now affects our host With so much sorrow, since so much of our best blood is lost By his high valour. I have fear some God in him doth threat, Incens'd for want of sacrifice; the wrath of God is great." Lycaon's famous son replied: "Great counsellor of Troy, This man, so excellent in arms, I think is Tydeus' joy; I know him by his fiery shield, by his bright three-plum'd casque, And by his horse; nor can I say, if or some God doth mask In his appearance, or he be whom I nam'd Tydeus' son, But without God the things he does for certain are not done. Some great Immortal, that conveys his shoulders in a cloud, Goes by and puts by every dart at his bold breast bestow'd, Or lets it take with little hurt; for I myself let fly A shaft that shot him through his arms, but had as good gone by, Yet which I gloriously affirm'd had driven him down to hell. Some God is angry, and with me, for far hence, where I dwell, My horse and chariots idle stand, with which some other way I might repair this shameful miss. Eleven fair chariots stay That ride the seas—Greek " to the ships." In old Lycaon's court, new made, new trimm'd to have been gone, Curtain'd, and arrast under foot; two horse to every one, That eat white barley and black oats, and do no good at all; And these Lycaon (that well knew how these affairs would fall) Charg'd, when I set down this design, I should command with here, And gave me many lessons more, all which much better were Than any I took forth myself. The reason I laid down Was but the sparing of my horse, since in a sieged town I thought our horse-meat would be scant, when they were us'd to have Their manger full; so I left them, and like a lackey slave Am come to Ilion, confident in nothing but my bow That nothing profits me. Two shafts I vainly did bestow At two great princes, but of both my arrows neither slew; Nor this, nor Atreus' younger son; a little blood I drew, That serv'd but to incense them more. In an unhappy star I therefore from my armoury have drawn those tools of war That day, when, for great Hector's sake, to amiable Troy I came to lead the Trojan bands. But if I ever joy, In safe return, my country's sight, my wife's, my lofty tow'rs, Let any stranger take this head, if to the fiery Powers This bow, these shafts, in pieces burst, by these hands be not thrown; Idle companions that they are to me and my renown." Aeneas said: "Use no such words; for, any other way Than this, they shall not now be us'd. We first will both assay This man with horse and chariot. Come then, ascend to me, That thou mayst try our Trojan horse, how skill'd in field they be, And in pursuing those that fly, or flying, being pursued, How excellent they are of foot; and these, if Jove conclude The 'scape of Tydeus again, and grace him with our flight, Shall serve to bring us safely off. Come, I'll be first shall fight, Both the folios have "wives," but the true reading is " wife's," if we consult the Greek. Take thou these fair reins and this scourge; or, if thou wilt, fight thou, And leave the horses' care to me." He answer'd: "I will now Descend to fight, keep thou the reins, and guide thyself thy horse, Who with their wonted manager will better wield the force Of the impulsive chariot, if we be driven to fly, Than with a stranger; under whom they will be much more shy, And, fearing my voice, wishing thine, grow resty, nor go on To bear us off, but leave engag'd for mighty Tydeus' son Themselves and us. Then be thy part thy one-hoof'd horses' guide, I'll make the fight, and with a dart receive his utmost pride." With this the gorgeous chariot both, thus prepar'd, ascend, And make full way at Diomed; which noted by his friend, " Mine own most-loved mind," said he, " two mighty men of war I see come with a purpos'd charge; one's he that hits so far With bow and shaft, Lycaon's son, the other fames the brood Of great Anchises and the Queen that rules in amorous blood, Aeneas, excellent in arms. Come up, and use your steeds, And look not war so in the face, lest that desire that feeds Thy great mind be the bane of it." This did with anger sting The blood of Diomed, to see his friend, that chid the king Before the fight, and then preferr'd his ablesse and his mind To all his ancestors in fight, now come so far behind; Whom thus he answer'd: "Urge no flight, you cannot please me so; Nor is it honest in my mind to fear a coming foe, Or make a flight good, though with fight. My powers are yet entire, And scorn the help-tire of a horse. I will not blow the fire Of their hot valours with my flight, but cast upon the blaze This body borne upon my knees. I entertain amaze The second folio (which Dr. Taylor follows) omits "for;" a typographical error. Friend—Sthenelus. Ablesse. The second folio reads "ablenesse" which Dr. Taylor has followed. I retain the original reading which the metre requires. Minerva will not see that shame; and since they have begun, They shall not both elect their ends, and he that 'scapes shall run, Or stay and take the other's fate. And this I leave for thee;— If amply-wise Athenia give both their lives to me, Rein our horse to their chariot hard, and have a special heed To seize upon Aeneas' steeds, that we may change their breed, And make a Grecian race of them that have been long of Troy. For these are bred of those brave beasts which, for the lovely boy That waits now on the cup of Jove, Jove, that far-seeing God, Gave Tros the king in recompense; the best that ever trod The sounding centre, underneath the morning and the sun. Anchises stole the breed of them; for, where their sires did run, He closely put his mares to them, and never made it known To him that heir'd them, who was then the king Laomedon. Six horses had he of that race, of which himself kept four, And gave the other two his son; and these are they that scour The field so bravely towards us, expert in charge and flight. If these we have the power to take, our prise is exquisite, And our renown will far 'exceed." While these were talking thus, The fir'd horse brought th' assailants near, and thus spake Pandarus : "Most suffering-minded Tydeus' son, that hast of war the art, My shaft, that struck thee, slew thee not, I now will prove a dart." This said, he shook, and then he threw, a lance, aloft and large, That in Tydides' curets stuck, quite driving through his targe; Then bray'd he out so wild a voice that all the field might hear : "Now have I reach'd thy root of life, and by thy death shall bear Our praise's chief prise from the field." Tydides undismay'd Replied: " Thou err'st, I am not touch'd; but more charge will be laid To both your lives before you part; at least the life of one Shall satiate the throat of Mars." This said, his lance was gone, Minerva led it to his face, which at his eye ran in, And, as he stoop'd, struck through his jaws, his tongue's root, and his chin. Down from the chariot he fell, his gay arms shin'd and rung, The swift horse trembled, and his soul for ever charm'm'd his tongue. Aeneas with his shield, and lance, leapt swiftly to his friend, Afraid the Greeks would force his trunk, and that he did defend, Bold as a lion of his strength; he hid him with his shield, Shook round his lance, and horribly did threaten all the field With death, if any durst make in. Tydides rais'd a stone With his one hand, of wondrous weight, and pour'd it mainly on The hip of Anchisiades, wherein the joint doth move The thigh ('tis call'd the huckle-bone) which all in sherds it drove, Brake both the nerves, and with the edge cut all the flesh away. It stagger'd him upon his knees, and made the heroë stay His struck-blind temples on his hand, his elbow on the earth; And there this prince of men had died, if She that gave him birth, (Kiss'd by Anchises on the green where his fair oxen fed) Jove's loving daughter, instantly had not about him spread Her soft embraces, and convey'd within her heavenly veil (Us'd as a rampire 'gainst all darts that did so hot assail) Her dear-lov'd issue from the field. Then Sthenelus in haste, Remembering what his friend advis'd, from forth the press made fast His own horse to their chariot, and presently laid hand Upon the lovely-coated horse Aeneas did command; Which bringing to the wond'ring Greeks, he did their guard commend To his belov'd Deipylus, who was his inward friend, And, of his equals, one to whom he had most honour shown, That he might see them safe at fleet; then stept he to his own, With which he cheerfully made in to Tydeus' mighty race. He, mad with his great enemy's rape, was hot in desperate chace Of her that made it, with his lance, arm'm'd less with steel than spite, Well knowing her no Deity that had to do in fight, Rape—here used for his being carried off by Venus. Minerva his great patroness, nor, She that raceth towns, Bellona, but a Goddess weak, and foe to men's renowns. Her, through a world of fight pursu'd, at last he overtook, And, thrusting up his ruthless lance, her heavenly veil he strook (That even the Graces wrought themselves, at her divine command) Quite through, and hurt the tender back of her delicious hand. The rude point piercing through her palm, forth flow'd th'immortal blood; Blood, such as flows in blessed Gods, that eat no human food, Nor drink of our inflaming wine, and therefore bloodless are, And call'd Immortals; out she cried, and could no longer bear Her lov'd son, whom she cast from her, and in a sable cloud Phœbus, receiving, hid him close from all the Grecian crowd, Lest some of them should find his death. Away flew Venus then, And after her cried Diomed: "Away, thou spoil of men, Though sprung from all-preserving Jove, these hot encounters leave. Is't not enough that silly dames thy sorceries should deceive, Unless thou thrust into the war, and rob a soldier's right? I think a few of these assaults will make thee fear the fight, Wherever thou shalt hear it nam'd." She, sighing, went her way Extremely griev'd, and with her griefs her beauties did decay, And black her ivory body grew. Then from a dewy mist Brake swift-foot Iris to her aid from all the darts that hiss'd At her quick rapture, and to Mars they took their plaintive course, And found him on the fight's left hand, by him his speedy horse, And huge lance, lying in a fog. The Queen of all things fair Her loved brother on her knees besought, with instant prayer, His golden-riband-bound-man'd horse to lend her up to heaven, For she was much griev'd with a wound a mortal man had given, Tydides, that 'gainst Jove himself durst now advance his arm. He granted, and his chariot (perplex'd with her late harm) \ She mounted, and her waggoness was She that paints the air. The horse she rein'd, and with a scourge importun'd their repair, Iris. That of themselves out-flew the wind, and quickly they ascend Olympus, high seat of the Gods. Th' horse knew their journey's end, Stood still, and from their chariot the windy-footed dame Dissolv'd, and gave them heavenly food; and to Dione came Her wounded daughter, bent her knees. She kindly bade her stand, With sweet embraces help'd her up, strok'd her with her soft hand, Call'd kindly by her name, and ask'd: "What God hath been so rude, Sweet daughter, to chastise thee thus, as if thou wert pursued Even to the act of some light sin, and deprehended so? For otherwise, each close escape is in the great let go." She answer'd: "Haughty Tydeus' son hath been so insolent, Since, he whom most my heart esteems of all my lov'd descent, I rescu'd from his bloody hand. Now battle is not given To any Trojans by the Greeks, but by the Greeks to heaven." She answer'd: "Daughter, think not much, though much it grieve thee; use The patience, whereof many Gods examples may produce, In many bitter ills receiv'd, as well that men sustain By their inflictions as by men repaid to them again. Mars suffer'd much more than thyself by Ephialtes' power, And Otus', Aloeus' sons, who in a brazen tower, And in inextricable chains, cast that war-greedy God, Where twice six months and one he liv'd, and there the period Of his sad life perhaps had clos'd, if his kind stepdame's eye, Fair Erebæa, had not seen, who told it Mercury, And he by stealth enfranchis'd him; though he could scarce enjoy The benefit of franchisement, the chains did so destroy His vital forces with their weight. So Juno suffer'd more When, with a three-fork'd arrow's head, Amphytrio's son did gore Her right breast, past all hope of cure. Pluto sustain'd no less By that self man, and by a shaft of equal bitterness Dione—mother of Venus. Shot through his shoulder at hell gates, and there, amongst the dead, Were he not deathless, he had died; but up to heaven he fled, Extremely tortur'd, for recure, which instantly he won At Pæon's hand, with sovereign balm; and this did Jove's great son, Unblest, great-high-deed-daring man, that car'd not doing ill, That with his bow durst wound the Gods! But, by Minerva's will, Thy wound the foolish Diomed was so profane to give, Not knowing he that fights with Heaven hath never long to live, And for this deed, he never shall have child about his knee To call him father, coming home. Besides, hear this from me, Strength-trusting man, though thou be strong, and art in strength a tower, Take heed a stronger meet thee not, and that a woman's power Contains not that superior strength, and lest that woman be Adrastus' daughter, and thy wife, the wise Aegiale, When, from this hour not far, she wakes, even sighing with desire To kindle our revenge on thee, with her enamouring fire, In choosing her some fresh young friend, and so drown all thy fame, Won here in war, in her court-piece, and in an opener shame." This said, with both her hands she cleans'd the tender back and palm Of all the sacred blood they lost; and, never using balm, The pain ceas'd, and the wound was cur'd of this kind Queen of love. Juno and Pallas, seeing this, assay'd to anger Jove, And quit his late-made mirth with them about the loving Dame, With some sharp jest, in like sort, built upon her present shame. Grey-ey'd Athenia began, and ask'd the Thunderer, If, nothing moving him to wrath, she boldly might prefer, What she conceiv'd, to his conceit; and, staying no reply, She bade him view the Cyprian fruit he lov'd so tenderly, Whom she thought hurt, and by this means;—intending to suborn Some other lady of the Greeks (whom lovely veils adorn) Whom she thought hurt. Both the folios read " though hurt." Dr. Taylor prints " thought," which is perhaps the true reading. To gratify some other friend of her much-loved Troy, As she embrac'd and stirr'd her blood to the Venerean joy, The golden clasp those Grecian dames upon their girdles wear Took hold of her delicious hand, and hurt it, she had fear. The Thunderer smil'd, and call'd to him love's golden Arbitress, And told her those rough works of war were not for her access, She should be making marriages, embracings, kisses, charms, Stern Mars and Pallas had the charge of those affairs in arms. While these thus talk'd, Tydides' rage still thirsted to achieve His prise upon Anchises' son, though well he did perceive The Sun himself protected him; but his desires (enflam'd With that great Trojan prince's blood, and arms so highly fam'd) Not that great God did reverence. Thrice rush'd he rudely on, And thrice, betwixt his darts and death, the Sun's bright target shone; But when upon the fourth assault, much like a spirit, he flew, The far-off-working Deity exceeding wrathful grew, And ask'd him: "What! Not yield to gods? Thy equals learn to know. The race of Gods is far above men creeping here below." This drave him to some small retreat; he would not tempt more near The wrath of him that struck so far, whose power had now set clear Aeneas from the stormy field within the holy place Of Pergamus, where, to the hope of his so sovereign grace, A goodly temple was advanc'd, in whose large inmost part He left him, and to his supply inclin'd his mother's heart, Latona, and the dart-pleas'd Queen, who cur'd, and made him strong. The silver-bow'd fair God then threw in the tumultuous throng An image, that in stature, look, and arms, he did create Like Venus' son; for which the Greeks and Trojans made debate, Laid loud strokes on their ox-hide shields and bucklers easily borne ; Which error Phœbus pleas'd to urge on Mars himself in scorn; Dart-pleas'd Queen—Diana. " Mars, Mars," said he, " thou plague of men, smear'd with the dust and blood Of humans, and their run'd walls, yet thinks thy Godhead good To fright this fury, from the field, who next will fight with Jove? First, in a bold approach, he hurt the moist palm of thy love, And next, as if he did affect to have a Deity's power, He held out his assault on me." This said, the lofty tower Of Pergamus he made his seat; and Mars did now excite The Trojan forces, in the form of him that led to fight The Thracian troops, swift Acamas. "O Priam's sons," said he, "How long the slaughter of your men can ye sustain to see? Even till they brave you at your gates? Ye suffer beaten down Aeneas, great Anchises' son, whose prowess we renown As much as Hector's; fetch him off from this contentious prease." With this, the strength and spirits of all his courage did increase; And yet Sarpedon seconds him, with this particular taunt Of noble Hector: "Hector, where is thy unthankful vaunt, And that huge strength on which it built, that thou, and thy allies, With all thy brothers (without aid of us or our supplies, And troubling not a citizen) the city safe would hold? In all which friends' and brothers' helps I see not, nor am told Of any one of their exploits, but (all held in dismay Of Diomed, like a sort of dogs that at a lion bay, And entertain no spirit to pinch) we, your assistants here, Fight for the town as you help'd us, and I, an aiding peer, No citizen, even out of care that doth become a man For men and children's liberties, add all the aid I can; Not out of my particular cause; far hence my profit grows, For far hence Asian Lycia lies, where gulfy Xanthus flows, Prease—press. Sort—See Bk. IV. 460. Pinch—a term frequently used for dogs pressing on and seizing their game. As—as if. And where my lov'd wife, infant son, and treasure nothing scant, I left behind me, which I see those men would have that want, And therefore they that have would keep. Yet I, as I would lose Their sure fruition, cheer my troops, and with their lives propose Mine own life, both to general fight, and to particular cope With this great soldier; though, I say, I entertain no hope To have such gettings as the Greeks, nor fear to lose like Troy. Yet thou, even Hector, deedless stand'st, and car'st not to employ Thy town-born friends, to bid them stand, to fight and save their wives, Lest as a fowler casts his nets upon the silly lives Of birds of all sorts, so the foe your walls and houses hales, One with another, on all heads; or such as 'scape their falls, Be made the prey and prise of them (as willing overthrown) That hope not for you with their force; and so this brave-built town Will prove a chaos. That deserves in thee so hot a care As should consume thy days and nights, to hearten and prepare Th' assistant princes; pray their minds to bear their far-brought toils; To give them worth with worthy fight; in victories and foils Still to be equal; and thyself, exampling them in all, Need no reproofs nor spurs. All this in thy free choice should fall." This stung great Hector's heart; and yet, as every generous mind Should silent bear a just reproof, and show what good they find In worthy counsels, by their ends put into present deeds, Not stomach nor be vainly sham'd, so Hector's spirit proceeds, And from his chariot, wholly arm'd, he jump'd upon the sand, On foot so toiling through the host, a dart in either hand, And all hands turn'd against the Greeks. The Greeks despis'd their worst, And, thick'ning their instructed powers, expected all they durst. Propose.—Bk. I. 14. Both the folios read "hope." Dr. Taylor has "holp"—help, which seems preferable. All hands turn'd—excited all the army. Then with the feet of horse and foot the dust in clouds did rise; And as, in sacred floors of barns, upon corn-winnowers flies The chaff, driven with an opposite wind, when yellow Ceres dites, Which all the diters' feet, legs, arms, their heads and shoulders whites, So look'd the Grecians grey with dust, that struck the solid heaven, Rais'd from returning chariots, and troops together driven. Each side stood to their labours firm. Fierce Mars flew through the air, And gather'd darkness from the fight, and, with his best affair, Obey'd the pleasure of the Sun, that wears the golden sword, Who bade him raise the spirits of Troy when Pallas ceas'd t' afford Her helping office to the Greeks; and then his own hands wrought, Which, from his fane's rich chancel, cur'd, the true Aeneas brought, And plac'd him by his peers in field, who did with joy admire To see him both alive and safe, and all his powers entire, Yet stood not sifting how it chanc'd, another sort of task, Then stirring th' idle sieve of news, did all their forces ask, Inflam'd by Phœbus, harmful Mars, and Eris eag'rer far. The Greeks had none to hearten them; their hearts rose with the war; But chiefly Diomed, Ithacus, and both th' Ajaces us'd Stirring examples and good words; their own fames had infus'd Spirit enough into their bloods, to make them neither fear The Trojans' force, nor Fate itself, but still expecting were, When most was done, what would be more; their ground they still made good, And in their silence, and set powers, like fair still clouds, they stood, With which Jove crowns the tops of hills in any quiet day, When Boreas and the ruder winds (that use to drive away Air's dusky vapours, being loose, in many a whistling gale) Are pleasingly bound up, and calm, and not a breath exhale. So firmly stood the Greeks, nor fled for all the Ilion's aid. Atrides yet coasts through the troops, confirming men so staid : Dites—winnows. NARES quotes this passage for the word. I have not met with it elsewhere. Affair—action, endeavour. " O friends," said he, " hold up your minds; strength is but strength of will; Reverence each other's good in fight, and shame at things done ill. Where soldiers show an honest shame, and love of honour lives That ranks men with the first in fight, death fewer liveries gives Than life, or than where Fame's neglect makes cowards fight at length. Flight neither doth the body grace, nor shows the mind hath strength." He said, and swiftly through the troops a mortal lance did send That reft a standard-bearer's life, renown'd Aeneas' friend, Deïcoön Pergasides, whom all the Trojans lov'd As he were one of Priam's sons, his mind was so approv'd In always fighting with the first. The lance his target took, Which could not interrupt the blow that through it clearly strook, And in his belly's rim was sheath'd, beneath his girdle-stead. He sounded falling, and his arms with him resounded, dead. Then fell two princes of the Greeks by great Aeneas' ire, Diocleus' sons, Orsilochus and Crethon, whose kind sire In bravely-builded Phæra dwelt, rich, and of sacred blood. He was descended lineally from great Alphæus' flood, That broadly flows through Pylos' fields; Alphæus did beget Orsilochus, who in the rule of many men was set; And that Orsilochus begat the rich Diocleus; Diocleus sire to Crethon was, and this Orsilochus. Both these, arriv'd at man's estate, with both th' Atrides went, To honour them in th' Ilion wars; and both were one way sent, To death as well as Troy, for death hid both in one black hour. As two young lions (with their dam sustain'd but to devour) Bred on the tops of some steep hill, and in the gloomy deep Of an inaccessible wood, rush out, and prey on sheep, Liveries—deliveries. The first folio has "cow-herds." This has frequently been given as the derivation of the word "coward." Girdle-stead. The composition stead is used to mark the place or position of anything, thus homestead, noonsted; Girdle-stead, the place of the girdle. Steers, oxen, and destroy men's stalls, so long that they come short, And by the owner's steel are slain; in such unhappy sort Fell these beneath Aeneas' power. When Menelaus view'd Like two tall fir-trees these two fall, their timeless falls he rued, And to the first fight, where they lay, a vengeful force he took; His arms beat back the sun in flames, a dreadful lance he shook; Mars put the fury in his mind, that by Aeneas' hands, Who was to make the slaughter good, he might have strew'd the sands. Antilochus, old Nestor's son, observing he was bent To urge a combat of such odds, and knowing, the event Being ill on his part, all their pains (alone sustain'd for him) Err'd from their end, made after hard, and took them in the trim Of an encounter. Both their hands and darts advanc'd, and shook, And both pitch'd in full stand of charge; when suddenly the look Of Anchisiades took note of Nestor's valiant son, In full charge too; which, two to one, made Venus' issue shun The hot adventure, though he were a soldier well approv'd. Then drew they off their slaughter'd friends; who given to their belov'd, They turn'd where fight show'd deadliest hate, and there mix'd with the dead Pylæmen, that the targeteers of Paphlagonia led, A man like Mars; and with him fell good Mydon that did guide His chariot, Atymnus' son. The prince Pylæmen died By Menelaus; Nestor's joy slew Mydon; one before The other in the chariot. Atrides' lance did gore Pylæmen's shoulder, in the blade. Antilochus did force A mighty stone up from the earth, and, as he turn'd his horse, Struck Mydon's elbow in the midst; the reins of ivory Fell from his hands into the dust; Antilochus let fly Trim—order, or disposition." Beaumont and Fletcher speak of the 'horrid trims of war.' "—DR. TAYLOR. His sword withal, and, rushing in, a blow so deadly laid Upon his temples, that he groan'd, tumbled to earth, and stay'd A mighty while preposterously (because the dust was deep) Upon his neck and shoulders there, even till his foe took keep Of his pris'd horse, and made them stir, and then he prostrate fell. His horse Antilochus took home. When Hector had heard tell, Amongst the uproar, of their deaths, he laid out all his voice, And ran upon the Greeks. Behind came many men of choice, Before him march'd great Mars himself, match'd with his female mate, The dread Bellona. She brought on, to fight for mutual fate, A tumult that was wild and mad. He shook a horrid lance, And now led Hector, and anon behind would make the chance. This sight when great Tydides saw, his hair stood up on end; And him, whom all the skill and power of arms did late attend, Now like a man in counsel poor, that, travelling, goes amiss, And having pass'd a boundless plain, not knowing where he is, Comes on the sudden where he sees a river rough, and raves With his own billows ravished into the king of waves, Murmurs with foam, and frights him back; so he, amaz'd, retir'd, And thus would make good his amaze: "O friends, we all admir'd Great Hector, as one of himself, well-darting, bold in war, When some God guards him still from death, and makes him dare so far. Now Mars himself, form'd like a man, is present in his rage, And therefore, whatsoever cause importunes you to wage War with these Trojans, never strive, but gently take your rod, Lest in your bosoms for a man ye ever find a God." As Greece retir'd, the power of Troy did much more forward prease, And Hector two brave men of war sent to the fields of peace; Menesthes, and Anchialus; one chariot bare them both. Their falls made Ajax Telamon ruthful of heart, and wroth, Preposterously.—Chapman uses this word in a somewhat unusual way; pre-posterous, hind part foremost. Here, on his head. Take your rod—submit. Who light'ned out a lance that smote Amphius Selages, That dwelt in Pæsos, rich in lands, and did huge goods possess, But Fate, to Priam and his sons, conducted his supply. The javelin on his girdle struck, and pierced mortally His belly's lower part; he fell; his arms had looks so trim, That Ajax needs would prove their spoil; the Trojans pour'd on him Whole storms of lances, large, and sharp, of which a number stuck In his rough shield, yet from the slain he did his javelin pluck, But could not from his shoulders force the arms he did affect, The Trojans with such drifts of darts the body did protect, And wisely Telamonius fear'd their valorous defence, So many, and so strong of hand, stood in with such expense Of deadly prowess, who repell'd, though big, strong, bold, he were, The famous Ajax, and their friend did from his rapture bear. Thus this place fill'd with strength of fight; in th' army's other prease, Tlepolemus, a tall big man, the son of Hercules, A cruel destiny inspir'd with strong desire to prove Encounter with Sarpedon's strength, the son of cloudy Jove; Who, coming on to that stern end, had chosen him his foe. Thus Jove's great nephew, and his son, 'gainst one another go. Tlepolemus, to make his end more worth the will of fate, Began as if he had her pow'r, and show'd the mortal state Of too much confidence in man, with this superfluous brave: "Sarpedon, what necessity or needless humour drave Thy form to these wars, which in heart I know thou dost abhor, A man not seen in deeds of arms, a Lycian counsellor? They lie that call thee son to Jove, since Jove bred none so late; The men of elder times were they that his high power begat, Such men as had Herculean force. My father Hercules Was Jove's true issue; he was bold; his deeds did well express Conducted his supply—led him to assist. Expense—profusion, giving forth. They sprung out of a lion's heart. He whilome came to Troy (For horse that Jupiter gave Tros for Ganimed, his boy) With six ships only, and few men, and tore the city down, Left all her broad ways desolate, and made the horse his own. For thee, thy mind is ill dispos'd, thy body's pow'rs are poor, And therefore are thy troops so weak; the soldier evermore Follows the temper of his chief; and thou pull'st down a side. But say thou art the son of Jove, and hast thy means supplied With forces fitting his descent, the powers that I compel Shall throw thee hence, and make thy head run ope the gates of hell." Jove's Lycian issue answer'd him: "Tlepolemus, 'tis true Thy father holy Ilion in that sort overthrew; Th' injustice of the king was cause, that, where thy father had Us'd good deservings to his state, he quitted him with bad. Hesione, the joy and grace of King Laomedon, Thy father rescu'd from a whale, and gave to Telamon In honour'd nuptials (Telamon, from whom your strongest Greek Boasts to have issu'd) and this grace might well expect the like, Yet he gave taunts for thanks, and kept, against his oath, his horse, And therefore both thy father's strength, and justice, might enforce The wreak he took on Troy; but this and thy cause differ far. Sons seldom heir their fathers' worths. Thou canst not make his war. What thou assum'st for him, is mine, to be on thee impos'd." With this, he threw an ashen dart; and then Tlepolemus los'd Another from his glorious hand. Both at one instant flew, Both struck, both wounded. From his neck Sarpedon's javelin drew The life blood of Tlepolemus; full in the midst it fell; And what he threaten'd, th' other gave, that darkness, and that hell. Sarpedon's left thigh took the lance; it pierc'd the solid bone, And with his raging head ran through; but Jove preserv'd his son. The dart yet vex'd him bitterly, which should have been pull'd out, But none consider'd then so much, so thick came on the rout, Side—your party. Compel—collect together, possess in myself. And fill'd each hand so full of cause to ply his own defence; To help 'was held enough, both fall'n, that both were nobly carried thence. Ulysses knew th' events of both, and took it much to heart That his friend's enemy should 'scape; and in a twofold part His thoughts contended, if he should pursue Sarpedon's life, Or take his friend's wreak on his men. Fate did conclude this strife, By whom 'twas otherwise decreed than that Ulysses' steel Should end Sarpedon. In this doubt Minerva took the wheel From fickle Chance, and made his mind resolve to right his friend With that blood he could surest draw. Then did Revenge extend Her full power on the multitude; then did he never miss; Alastor, Halius, Chromius, Noemon, Prytanis, Alcander, and a number more, he slew, and more had slain, If Hector had not understood, whose pow'r made in amain, And struck fear through the Grecian troops, but to Sarpedon gave Hope of full rescue, who thus cried : "O Hector! Help and save My body from the spoil of Greece, that to your loved town My friends may see me borne, and then let earth possess her own In this soil, for whose sake I left my country's; for no day Shall ever show me that again, nor to my wife display, And young hope of my name, the joy of my much thirsted sight; All which I left for Troy, for them let Troy then do this right." To all this Hector gives no word, but greedily he strives With all speed to repel the Greeks, and shed in floods their lives, And left Sarpedon; but what face soever he put on Of following the common cause, he left this prince alone For his particular grudge, because, so late, he was so plain In his reproof before the host, and that did he retain; However, for example sake, he would not show it then, And for his shame too, since 'twas just. But good Sarpedon's men Ventur'd themselves, and forc'd him off, and set him underneath The goodly beech of Jupiter, where now they did unsheath The ashen lance; strong Pelagon, his friend, most lov'd, most true, Enforc'd it from his maimed thigh; with which his spirit flew, And darkness over-flew his eyes; yet with a gentle gale, That round about the dying prince cool Boreas did exhale, He was revived, recomforted, that else had griev'd and died. All this time flight drave to the fleet the Argives, who applied No weapon 'gainst the proud pursuit, nor ever turn'd a head, They knew so well that Mars pursu'd, and dreadful Hector led. Then who was first, who last, whose lives the iron Mars did seize, And Priam's Hector? Helenus, surnamed Enopides; Good Teuthras; and Orestes, skill'd in managing of horse; Bold Enomaus; and a man renown'd for martial force, Trechus, the great Aetolian chief; Oresbius, that did wear The gaudy mitre, studied wealth extremely, and dwelt near Th' Atlantic lake Cephisides, in Hyla by whose seat The good men of Bœotia dwelt. This slaughter grew so great, It flew to heaven; Saturnia discern'd it, and cried out To Pallas: " O unworthy sight! To see a field so fought, And break our words to Sparta's king, that Ilion should be rac'd, And he return reveng'd, when thus we see his Greeks disgrac'd, And bear the harmful rage of Mars! Come, let us use our care, That we dishonour not our powers." Minerva was as yare As she at the despite of Troy. Her golden-bridled steeds Then Saturn's daughter brought abroad; and Hebe, she proceeds T' address her chariot; instantly she gives it either wheel, Beam'd with eight spokes of sounding brass; the axle-tree was steel; The fell'ffs incorruptible gold, their upper bands of brass, Their matter most unvalued, their work of wondrous grace; The naves, in which the spokes were driven, were all with silver bound; The chariot's seat two hoops of gold and silver strength'ned round, Yare—quick, ready. Frequently used by Shakespeare; generally applied to sailors, sometimes not. "If you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare." — Meas. for Meas. IV. 2. i. e. she puts on both wheels. Edg'd with a gold and silver fringe; the beam, that look'd before, Was massy silver; on whose top, gears all of gold it wore, And golden poitrils. Juno mounts, and her hot horses rein'd, That thirsted for contention, and still of peace complain'd. Minerva wrapt her in the robe that curiously she wove, With glorious colours, as she sate on th' azure floor of Jove, And wore the arms that he puts on, bent to the tearful field. About her broad-spread shoulders hung his huge and horrid shield, Fring'd round with ever-fighting snakes, through it was drawn to life The miseries and deaths of fight, in it frown'd bloody Strife, In it shin'd sacred Fortitude, in it fell Pursuit flew, In it the monster Gorgon's head, in which held out to view Were all the dire ostents of Jove; on her big head she plac'd His four-plum'd glittering casque of gold, so admirably vast It would an hundred garrisons of soldiers comprehend; Then to her shining chariot her vigorous feet ascend; And in her violent hand she takes his grave, huge, solid lance, With which the conquests of her wrath she useth to advance, And overturns whole fields of men, to show she was the Seed Of him that thunders. Then heaven's Queen, to urge her horses' speed, Takes up the scourge, and forth they fly. The ample gates of heaven Rung, and flew open of themselves; the charge whereof is given, With all Olympus, and the sky, to the distinguish'd Hours, That clear or hide it all in clouds, or pour it down in showers. This way their scourge-obeying horse made haste, and soon they won The top of all the topful heavens, where aged Saturn's son Sat sever'd from the other Gods; then stay'd the white-arm'd Queen Her steeds, and ask'd of Jove, if Mars did not incense his spleen With his foul deeds, in ruining so many and so great In the command and grace of Greece, and in so rude a heat? The beam, &c. the pole. Gears—here for collars. Poitrils—breast-pieces, pectorals. Distinguished—varied, marked with distinctions. At which, she said, Apollo laugh'd, and Venus, who still sue To that mad God, for violence that never justice knew; For whose impiety, she ask'd, if, with his wished love, Herself might free the field of him? He bade her rather move Athenia to the charge she sought, who us'd of old to be The bane of Mars, and had as well the gift of spoil as he. This grace she slack'd not, but her horse scourg'd, that in nature flew Betwixt the cope of stars and earth; and how far at a view A man into the purple sea may from a hill descry, So far a high-neighing horse of heaven at every jump would fly. Arriv'd at Troy, where, broke in curls, the two floods mix their force, Scamander and bright Simois, Saturnia stay'd her horse, Took them from chariot, and a cloud of mighty depth diffus'd About them; and the verdant banks of Simois produc'd In nature what they eat in heaven. Then both the Goddesses March'd, like a pair of timorous doves, in hasting their access To th' Argive succour. Being arriv'd, where both the most and best Were heap'd together (showing all, like lions at a feast Of new-slain carcasses, or boars, beyond encounter strong) There found they Diomed; and there, 'midst all th' admiring throng, Saturnia put on Stentor's shape, that had a brazen voice, And spake as loud as fifty men, like whom she made a noise, And chid the Argives: "O ye Greeks, in name and outward rite But princes only, not in act, what scandal, what despite, " How far a heavenly horse took at one reach or stroke in galloping or running; wherein Homer's mind is far from being expressed in his interpreters, all taking it for how far Deities were borne from the earth, when instantly they came down to earth : τόσσον ἐπιθρώσκουσι, &c. tantum uno saltu conficiunt, vel, tantum subsultim progrediuntur, deorum altizoni equi, &c. uno-being understood, and the horse's swiftness highly expressed. The sense, otherwise, is senseless and contradictory." CHAPMAN. “ ᾿Αμβροσίην is the original word, which Scaliger taxeth very learnedly, asking how the horse came by it on those banks, when the text tells him Simois produced it; being willing to express by hyperbole the delicacy of that soil. If not, I hope the Deities could ever command it." - CHAPMAN. Use ye to honour! All the time the great Aeacides Was conversant in arms, your foes durst not a foot address Without their ports, so much they fear'd his lance that all controll'd, And now they out-ray to your fleet." This did with shame make bold The general spirit and power of Greece; when, with particular note Of their disgrace, Athenia made Tydeus' issue hot. She found him at his chariot, refreshing of his wound Inflicted by slain Pandarus; his sweat did so abound, It much annoy'd him underneath the broad belt of his shield; With which, and tired with his toil, his soul could hardly yield His body motion. With his hand he lifted up the belt, And wip'd away that clotter'd blood the fervent wound did melt. Minerva lean'd against his horse, and near their withers laid Her sacred hand, then spake to him : " Believe me, Diomed, Tydeus exampled not himself in thee his son; not great, But yet he was a soldier; a man of so much heat, That in his embassy for Thebes, when I forbad his mind To be too vent'rous, and when feasts his heart might have declin'd, With which they welcom'd him, he made a challenge to the best, And foil'd the best; I gave him aid, because the rust of rest, That would have seiz'd another mind, he suffer'd not, but us'd The trial I made like a man, and their soft feasts refus'd. Yet, when I set thee on, thou faint'st; I guard thee, charge, exhort That, I abetting thee, thou shouldst be to the Greeks a fort, And a dismay to Ilion, yet thou obey'st in nought, Afraid, or slothful, or else both; henceforth renounce all thought That ever thou wert Tydeus' son." He answer'd her: "I know Thou art Jove's daughter, and, for that, in all just duty owe Thy speeches reverence, yet affirm ingenuously that fear Doth neither hold me spiritless, nor sloth. I only bear Out-ray—spread out in array; abbreviated from array. Dr. Taylor says " rush out," from the Anglo-Sax. "rean," to flow; but there seems no necessity for such an etymology. Declin'd—turned aside. Thy charge in zealous memory, that I should never war With any blessed Deity, unless, exceeding far The limits of her rule, the Queen, that governs chamber sport, Should press to field; and her thy will enjoin'd my lance to hurt. But, He whose power hath right in arms, I knew in person here, Besides the Cyprian Deity, and therefore did forbear, And here have gather'd in retreat these other Greeks you see, With note and reverence of your charge." "My dearest mind," said she, "What then was fit is chang'd. 'Tis true, Mars hath just rule in war, But just war; otherwise he raves, not fights. He's alter'd far. He vow'd to Juno, and myself, that his aid should be us'd Against the Trojans, whom it guards; and therein he abus'd His rule in arms, infring'd his word, and made his war unjust. He is inconstant, impious, mad. Resolve then; firmly trust My aid of thee against his worst, or any Deity; Add scourge to thy free horse, charge home; he fights perfidiously." This said; as that brave king, her knight, with his horse-guiding friend, Were set before the chariot, for sign he should descend That she might serve for waggoness, she pluck'd the wagg'ner back, And up into his seat she mounts; the beechen tree did crack Beneath the burthen, and good cause, it bore so huge a thing, A Goddess so replete with power, and such a puissant king. She snatch'd the scourge up and the reins, and shut her heavenly look In Hell's vast helm from Mars's eyes; and full career she took At him, who then had newly slain the mighty Periphas, Renown'd son to Ochesius, and far the strongest was Of all th' Aetolians; to whose spoil the bloody God was run. But when this man-plague saw th' approach of god-like Tydeus' son, He let his mighty Periphas lie, and in full charge he ran At Diomed; and he at him. Both near, the God began, And, thirsty of his blood, he throws a brazen lance that bears Full on the breast of Diomed, above the reins and gears; Beechen tree—axle. The second folio reads "large" for "huge." But Pallas took it on her hand, and struck the eager lance Beneath the chariot. Then the knight of Pallas doth advance, And cast a javelin off at Mars, Minerva sent it on, That, where his arming girdle girt, his belly graz'd upon, Just at the rim, and ranch'd the flesh; the lance again he got, But left the wound, that stung him so, he laid out such a throat As if nine or ten thousand men had bray'd out all their breaths In one confusion, having felt as many sudden deaths. The roar made both the hosts amaz'd. Up flew the God to heaven; And with him was through all the air as black a tincture driven To Diomed's eyes, as when the earth half chok'd with smoking heat Of gloomy clouds, that stifle men and pitchy tempests threat, Usher'd with horrid gusts of wind; with such black vapours plum'd, Mars flew t' Olympus, and broad heaven, and there his place resum'd. Sadly he went and sat by Jove, show'd his immortal blood, That from a mortal-man-made wound pour'd such an impious flood, And weeping pour'd out these complaints: "O Father, storm'st thou not To see us take these wrongs from men? Extreme griefs we have got Even by our own deep counsels, held for gratifying them; And thou, our council's president, conclud'st in this extreme Of fighting ever; being rul'd by one that thou hast bred; One never well, but doing ill; a girl so full of head That, though all other Gods obey, her mad moods must command, By thy indulgence, nor by word, nor any touch of hand, Correcting her; thy reason is, she is a spark of thee, And therefore she may kindle rage in men 'gainst Gods, and she May make men hurt Gods, and those Gods that are besides thy seed. First in the palm 's hit Cyprides; then runs the impious deed On my hurt person; and, could life give way to death in me, Or had my feet not fetch'd me off, heaps of mortality Ranch'd—wrenched, tore. He—Diomede. Nor by word.—The second folio has incorrectly " sword." First in the palm 's hit. Both the folios have "First in the palms height Cyprides;" and Dr. Taylor has thus printed, but the true meaning and reading must be obvious. Had kept me consort." Jupiter, with a contracted brow, Thus answer'd Mars: "Thou many minds, inconstant changeling thou, Sit not complaining thus by me, whom most of all the Gods Inhabiting the starry hill I hate; no periods Being set to thy contentions, brawls, fights, and pitching fields; Just of thy mother Juno's moods, stiff-neck'd, and never yields, Though I correct her still, and chide, nor can forbear offence, Though to her son; this wound I know tastes of her insolence; But I will prove more natural; thou shalt be cur'd because Thou com'st of me, but hadst thou been so cross to sacred laws, Being born to any other God, thou hadst been thrown from heaven Long since, as low as Tartarus, beneath the giants driven." This said, he gave his wound in charge to Pæon, who applied Such sovereign medicines, that as soon the pain was qualified, And he recur'd; as nourishing milk, when runnet is put in, Runs all in heaps of tough thick curd, though in his nature thin, Even so soon his wound's parted sides ran close in his recure; For he, all deathless, could not long the parts of death endure. Then Hebe bath'd, and put on him fresh garments, and he sate Exulting by his sire again, in top of all his state. So, having, from the spoils of men, made his desir'd remove, Juno and Pallas re-ascend the starry court of Jove.

THE ARGUMENT. THE Gods now leaving an indifferent field, The Greeks prevail, the slaughter'd Trojans yield. Hector, by Helenus' advice, retires In haste to Troy, and Hecuba desires To pray Minerva to remove from fight The son of Tydeus, her affected knight, And vow to her, for favour of such price, Twelve oxen should be slain in sacrifice. In mean space Glaucus and Tydides meet; And either other with remembrance greet Of old love 'twixt their fathers, which inclines Their hearts to friendship; who change arms for signs Of a continued love for either's life. Hector, in his return, meets with his wife, And, taking in his armed hands his son, He prophesies the fall of Ilion.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. In Zeta, Hector prophesies; Prays for his son; wills sacrifice.

THE stern fight freed of all the Gods, conquest with doubtful wings Flew on their lances; every way the restless field she flings Betwixt the floods of Simois and Xanthus that confin'd All their affairs at Ilion, and round about them shin'd. Indifferent—impartial. The first that weigh'd down all the field of one particular side Was Ajax, son of Telamon; who, like a bulwark, plied The Greeks' protection, and of Troy the knotty orders brake, Held out a light to all the rest, and show'd them how to make Way to their conquest. He did wound the strongest man of Thrace, The tallest and the biggest set, Eussorian Acamas; His lance fell on his casque's plum'd top in stooping; the fell head Drave through his forehead to his jaws; his eyes night shadowed. Tydides slew Teuthranides Axylus, that did dwell In fair Arisba's well-built tow'rs. He had of wealth a well, And yet was kind and bountiful, he would a traveller pray To be his guest, his friendly house stood in the broad highway, In which he all sorts nobly us'd, yet none of them would stand 'Twixt him and death, but both himself, and he that had command Of his fair horse, Calesius, fell lifeless on the ground. Euryalus, Opheltius and Dresus, dead did wound; Nor ended there his fiery course, which he again begins, And ran to it successfully, upon a pair of twins, Aesepus, and bold Pedasus, whom good Bucolion, (That first call'd father, though base born, renown'd Laomedon) On Nais Abarbaræa got, a nymph that, as she fed Her curled flocks, Bucolion woo'd, and mix'd in love and bed. Both these were spoil'd of arms and life by Mecistiades. Then Polypœtes, for stern death, Astyalus did seize; Ulysses slew Percosius; Teucer Aretaön; Antilochus (old Nestor's joy) Ablerus; the great son Of Atreus, and king of men, Elatus, whose abode He held at upper Pedasus, where Satnius' river flow'd; The great heroë Leitus stay'd Phylacus in flight From further life; Eurypylus Melanthius reft of light. The brother to the king of men Adrestus took alive; Whose horse, affrighted with the flight, their driver now did drive The brother to the king of men—Menelaus. Amongst the low-grown tamarisk trees, and at an arm of one The chariot in the draught-tree brake, the horse brake loose, and ron The same way other flyers fled, contending all to town; Himself close at the chariot wheel upon his face was thrown, And there lay flat, roll'd up in dust. Atrides inwards drave; And, holding at his breast his lance, Adrestus sought to save His head by losing of his feet, and trusting to his knees; On which the same parts of the king he hugs, and offers fees Of worthy value for his life, and thus pleads their receipt: "Take me alive, O Atreus' son, and take a worthy weight Of brass, elaborate iron, and gold. A heap of precious things Are in my father's riches hid, which, when your servant brings News of my safety to his ears, he largely will divide With your rare bounties." Atreus' son thought this the better side, And meant to take it, being about to send him safe to fleet; Which when, far off, his brother saw, he wing'd his royal feet, And came in threatening, crying out : "O soft heart! What's the cause Thou spar'st these men thus? Have not they observ'd these gentle laws Of mild humanity to thee with mighty argument Why thou shouldst deal thus, in thy house, and with all precedent Of honour'd guest rites, entertain'd? Not one of them shall fly A bitter end for it from heaven, and much less, dotingly, 'Scape our revengeful fingers; all, even th' infant in the womb, Shall taste of what they merited, and have no other tomb Than razed Ilion; nor their race have more fruit than the dust." This just cause turn'd his brother's mind, who violently thrust The prisoner from him; in whose guts the king of men impress'd His ashen lance, which (pitching down his foot upon the breast Of him that upwards fell) he drew; then Nestor spake to all : " O friends, and household men of Mars, let not your púrsuit fall, The second folio reads— "The same way others fled, contending all to town;" omitting "flyers." Argument—example. With those ye fell, for present spoil; nor, like the king of men, Let any 'scape unfell'd; but on, dispatch them all, and then Ye shall have time enough to spoil." This made so strong their chace That all the Trojans had been hous'd, and never turn'd a face, Had not the Priamist Helenus, an augur most of name, Will'd Hector and Aeneas thus: "Hector! Anchises' fame! Since on your shoulders, with good cause, the weighty burden lies Of Troy and Lycia (being both of noblest faculties For counsel, strength of hand, and apt to take chance at her best In every turn she makes) stand fast, and suffer not the rest, By any way search'd out for 'scape, to come within the ports, Lest, fled into their wives' kind arms, they there be made the sports Of the pursuing enemy. Exhort, and force your bands To turn their faces; and, while we employ our ventur'd hands, Though in a hard condition, to make the other stay, Hector, go thou to Ilion, and our queen-mother pray To take the richest robe she hath; the same that's chiefly dear To her court fancy; with which gem, assembling more to her Of Troy's chief matrons, let all go, for fear of all our fates, To Pallas' temple, take the key, unlock the leavy gates, Enter, and reach the highest tow'r, where her Palladium stands, And on it put the precious veil with pure and reverend hands, And vow to her, besides the gift, a sacrificing stroke Of twelve fat heifers-of-a-year, that never felt the yoke, (Most answering to her maiden state) if she will pity us, Our town, our wives, our youngest joys, and him that plagues them thus That true son of great Tydeus, that cunning lord of flight, Take from the conflict, Diomed, that fury in a fight, Whom I esteem the strongest Greek; for we have never fled Achilles, that is prince of men, and whom a Goddess bred, Leavy—leafy, folding doors. Like him; his fury flies so high, and all men's wraths commands." Hector intends his brother's will, but first through all his bands He made quick way, encouraging; and all, to fear afraid, All turn'd their heads and made Greece turn. Slaughter stood still dismay'd On their parts, for they thought some God, fallen from the vault of stars, Was rush'd into the Ilions' aid, they made such dreadful wars. Thus Hector, toiling in the waves, and thrusting back the flood, Of his ebb'd forces, thus takes leave: "So, so, now runs your blood In his right current; forwards now, Trojans, and far-call'd friends, Awhile hold out, till, for success to this your brave amends, I haste to Ilion, and procure our counsellors and wives To pray, and offer hecatombs, for their states in our lives." Then fair-helm'd Hector turn'd to Troy, and, as he trode the field, The black bull's hide, that at his back he wore about his shield, In the extreme circumference, was with his gait so rock'd, That, being large, it both at once his neck and ankles knock'd. And now betwixt the hosts were met Hippolochus' brave son, Glaucus, who in his very look hope of some wonder won, And little Tydeus' mighty heir; who seeing such a man Offer the field, for usual blows, with wondrous words began: "What art thou, strong'st of mortal men, that putt'st so far before, Whom these fights never show'd mine eyes? They have been evermore Sons of unhappy parents born that came within the length Of this Minerva-guided lance, and durst close with the strength That she inspires in me. If heaven be thy divine abode, And thou a Deity thus inform'd, no more with any God Will I change lances. The strong son of Dryus did not live Long after such a conflict dar'd, who godlessly did drive Intends—attends to; a common use of the word in old writers. Ilions' aid.—Chapman not infrequently uses Ilions for people of Ilion, or Troy. Their states in our lives. This is a somewhat complicated expression. The meaning is probably, as Dr. Taylor says, " for their lives and properties which depend on our lives." Nysæus' nurses through the hill made sacred to his name, And called Nysseius; with a goad he punch'd each furious dame, And made them every one cast down their green and leavy spears. This th' homicide Lycurgus did; and those ungodly fears, He put the froes in, seized their God. Even Bacchus he did drive From his Nysseius, who was fain, with huge exclaims, to dive Into the ocean. Thetis there in her bright bosom took The flying Deity, who so fear'd Lycurgus' threats, he shook. For which the freely-living Gods so highly were incens'd, That Saturn's great Son struck him blind, and with his life dispens'd But small time after; all because th' Immortals lov'd him not, Nor lov'd him since he striv'd with them; and his end hath begot Fear in my powers to fight with heaven. But, if the fruits of earth Nourish thy body, and thy life be of our human birth, Come near, that thou mayst soon arrive on that life-bounding shore, To which I see thee hoise such sail." "Why dost thou so explore," Said Glaucus, " of what race I am, when like the race of leaves The race of man is, that deserves no question; nor receives My being any other breath? The wind in autumn strows The earth with old leaves, then the spring the woods with new endows; And so death scatters men on earth, so life puts out again Man's leavy issue. But my race, if, like the course of men, Thou seek'st in more particular terms, 'tis this, to many known: In midst of Argos, nurse of horse, there stands a walled town, Ephyré, where the mansion-house of Sisyphus did stand, Of Sisyphus-Æölides, most wise of all the land. Glaucus was son to him, and he begat Bellerophon, Whose body heaven indued with strength, and put a beauty on, Nysæus—Bacchus. Leavy spears—the thyrsi, or wands, of the Bacchanals. Froes—for frows, Dutch for women. "Buxom as Bacchus' froes, revelling and dancing." — BEAUM. AND FLETCHER. — NARES. Him—Lycurgus. Leavy—leafy. Ephyré—Corinth. Exceeding lovely. Prætus yet his cause of love did hate, And banish'd him the town; he might; he rul'd the Argive state. The virtue of the one Jove plac'd beneath the other's pow'r. His exile grew since he denied to be the paramour Of fair Anteia, Prætus' wife, who felt a raging fire Of secret love to him; but he, whom wisdom did inspire As well as prudence, (one of them advising him to shun The danger of a princess' love, the other not to run Within the danger of the Gods, the act being simply ill,) Still entertaining thoughts divine, subdu'd the earthly still. She, rul'd by neither of his wits, preferr'd her lust to both, And, false to Prætus, would seem true, with this abhorr'd untroth: "Prætus, or die thyself," said she, " or let Bellerophon die. He urg'd dishonour to thy bed; which since I did deny, He thought his violence should grant, and sought thy shame by force." The king, incens'd with her report, resolv'd upon her course, But doubted how it should be run; he shunn'd his death direct, (Holding a way so near not safe) and plotted the effect By sending him with letters seal'd (that, opened, touch his life) To Rheuns king of Lycia, and father to his wife. He went; and happily he went, the Gods walk'd all his way; And being arriv'd in Lycia, where Xanthus doth display His cause of love—his personal beauty. His exile grew—the origin of his exile was, &c. "Bellerophontis literæ. Ad. Eras. This long speech many critics tax as untimely, being, as they take it, in the heat of fight; Hier. Vidas, a late observer, being eagerest against Homer. Whose ignorance in this I cannot but note, and prove to you; for, besides the authority and office of a poet, to vary and quicken his poem with these episodes, sometimes beyond the leisure of their actions, the critic notes not how far his forerunner prevents his worst as far; and sets down his speech at the sudden and strange turning of the Trojan field, set on a little before by Hector; and that so fiercely, it made an admiring stand among the Grecians, and therein gave fit time for these great captains to utter their admirations, the whole field in that part being to stand like their commanders. And then how full of decorum this gallant show and speech was to sound understandings, I leave only to such, and let our critics go cavil."—CHAPMAN. The silver ensigns of his waves, the king of that broad land Receiv'd him with a wondrous free and honourable hand. Nine days he feasted him, and kill'd an ox in every day, In thankful sacrifice to heaven, for his fair guest; whose stay, With rosy fingers, brought the world the tenth well-welcom'd morn, And then the king did move to see the letters he had borne From his lov'd son-in-law; which seen, he wrought thus their contents : Chimæra, the invincible, he sent him to convince, Sprung from no man, but mere divine; a lion's shape before, Behind a dragon's, in the midst a goat's shagg'd form, she bore, And flames of deadly fervency flew from her breath and eyes; Yet her he slew; his confidence in sacred prodigies Render'd him victor. Then he gave his second conquest way Against the famous Solymi, when (he himself would say, Reporting it) he enter'd on a passing vigorous fight. His third huge labour he approv'd against a woman's spite, That fill'd a field of Amazons; he overcame them all. Then set they on him sly Deceit, when Force had such a fall; An ambush of the strongest men, that spacious Lycia bred, Was lodg'd for him; whom he lodg'd sure, they never rais'd a head. His deeds thus showing him deriv'd from some celestial race, The king detain'd, and made amends, with doing him the grace Of his fair daughter's princely gift; and with her, for a dow'r, Gave half his kingdom; and to this, the Lycians on did pour More than was given to any king, a goodly planted field, In some parts thick of groves and woods, the rest rich crops did yield. This field the Lycians futurely (of future wand'rings there And other errors of their prince, in the unhappy rear Convince—overcome. "This field the Lycians futurely, &c. Chapman has transposed the clauses of the history to accommodate the theory of some commentators who assert that ' the field of wandering' was the original demesne assigned to Bellerophon."—COOKE TAYLOR. Of his sad life) the Errant call'd. The princess brought him forth Three children (whose ends griev'd him more, the more they were of worth) Isander; and Hippolochus; and fair Laodomy, With whom, even Jupiter himself left heaven itself, to lie, And had by her the man at arms, Sarpedon, call'd divine. The Gods then left him, lest a man should in their glories shine, And set against him; for his son, Isandrus, in a strife Against the valiant Solymi, Mars reft of light and life; Laödamïa, being envíed of all the Goddesses, The golden-bridle-handling Queen, the maiden Patroness, Slew with an arrow; and for this he wand'red evermore Alone through this his Aleian field, and fed upon the core Of his sad bosom, flying all the loth'd consorts of men. Yet had he one surviv'd to him of those three childeren, Hippolochus, the root of me; who sent me here with charge That I should always bear me well, and my deserts enlarge Beyond the vulgar, lest I sham'd my race, that far excell'd All that Ephyra's famous towers, or ample Lycia, held. This is my stock, and this am I." This cheer'd Tydides' heart, Who pitch'd his spear down, lean'd, and talk'd in this affectionate part: "Certes, in thy great ancestor, and in mine own, thou art A guest of mine, right ancient. King Oeneus twenty days Detain'd, with feasts, Bellerophon, whom all the world did praise. Betwixt whom mutual gifts were given. My grandsire gave to thine A girdle of Phœnician work, impurpled wondrous fine. Thine gave a two-neck'd jug of gold, which, though I use not here, Yet still it is my gem at home. But, if our fathers were Familiar, or each other knew, I know not, since my sire Left me a child, at siege of Thebes, where he left his life's fire. But let us prove our grandsires' sons, and be each other's guests. To Lycia when I come, do thou receive thy friend with feasts; Diana. Peloponnesus, with the like, shall thy wish'd presence greet. Mean space, shun we each other here, though in the press we meet. There are enow of Troy beside, and men enough renown'd, To right my pow'rs, whomever heaven shall let my lance confound. So are there of the Greeks for thee; kill who thou canst. And now For sign of amity 'twixt us, and that all these may know We glory in th' hospitious rites our grandsires did commend, Change we our arms before them all." From horse then both descend, Join hands, give faith, and take; and then did Jupiter elate The mind of Glaucus, who, to show his reverence to the state Of virtue in his grandsire's heart, and gratulate beside The offer of so great a friend, exchanged, in that good pride, Curets of gold for those of brass that did on Diomed shine, One of a hundred oxen's price, the other but of nine. By this, had Hector reach'd the ports of Scæa, and the tow'rs. About him flock'd the wives of Troy, the children, paramours, Inquiring how their husbands did, their fathers, brothers, loves. He stood not then to answer them, but said : "It now behoves Ye should all go t' implore the aid of heaven in a distress Of great effect, and imminent." Then hasted he access To Priam's goodly builded court, which round about was run With walking porches, galleries, to keep off rain and sun. Within, of one side, on a rew, of sundry colour'd stones, Fifty fair lodgings were built out, for Priam's fifty sons, And for as fair sort of their wives; and, in the opposite view, Twelve lodgings of like stone, like height, were likewise built arew, " Φρένας ἐξέλετο Ζεὺς. Mentem ademit Jup., the text hath it; which only I alter of all Homer's original, since Plutarch against the Stoics excuses this supposed folly in Glaucus. Spondanus likewise encouraging my alterations, which I use for the loved and simple nobility of the free exchange in Glaucus, contrary to others that, for the supposed folly in Glaucus, turned his change into a proverb, χρύσεα χαλχείων, golden for brazen."—CHAPMAN. Rew—row. Where, with their fair and virtuous wives, twelve princes, sons in law To honourable Priam, lay. And here met Hecuba, The loving mother, her great son, and with her needs must be The fairest of her female race, the bright Laodice. The queen grip't hard her Hector's hand, and said: "O worthiest son, Why leav'st thou field? Is't not because the cursed nation Afflict our countrymen and friends? They are their moans that move Thy mind to come and lift thy hands, in his high tow'r, to Jove. But stay a little, that myself may fetch our sweetest wine To offer first to Jupiter, then that these joints of thine May be refresh'd, for, woe is me, how thou art toil'd and spent ! Thou for our city's general state, thou for our friends far sent, Must now the press of fight endure, now solitude to call Upon the name of Jupiter, thou only for us all. But wine will something comfort thee; for to a man dismayd With careful spirits, or too much with labour overlaid, Wine brings much rescue, strengthening much the body and the mind." The great helm-mover thus receiv'd the auth'ress of his kind : "My royal mother, bring no wine, lest rather it impair Than help my strength, and make my mind forgetful of th' affair Committed to it; and, to pour it out in sacrifice, I fear with unwash'd hands to serve the pure-liv'd Deities. Nor is it lawful, thus imbrued with blood and dust, to prove The will of heaven, or offer vows to cloud-compelling Jove. I only come to use your pains (assembling other dames, Matrons, and women honour'd most, with high and virtuous names) With wine and odours, and a robe most ample, most of price, And which is dearest in your love, to offer sacrifice In Pallas' temple; and to put the precious robe ye bear On her Palladium; vowing all, twelve oxen-of-a-year, Whose necks were never rung with yoke, shall pay her grace their lives, If she will pity our sieg'd town; pity ourselves, our wives; Pity our children; and remove from sacred Ilion The dreadful soldier Diomed. And, when yourselves are gone About this work, myself will go to call into the field, If he will hear me, Helen's love, whom would the earth would yield, And headlong take into her gulf, even quick before mine eyes (For then my heart, I hope, would cast her load of miseries) Borne for the plague he hath been born, and bred to the deface, By great Olympius, of Troy, our sire, and all our race." This said, grave Hecuba went home, and sent her maids about To bid the matrons. She herself descended, and search'd out, Within a place that breath'd perfumes, the richest robe she had; Which lay with many rich ones more, most curiously made By women of Sidonia, which Paris brought from thence, Sailing the broad sea, when he made that voyage of offence In which he brought home Helena. That robe transferr'd so far (That was the undermost) she took; it glitter'd like a star; And with it went she to the fane, with many ladies more, Amongst whom fair-cheek'd Theano unlock'd the folded door; Chaste Theano, Antenor's wife, and of Cisseüs' race, Sister to Hecuba, both born to that great king of Thrace. Her th' Ilions made Minerva's priest; and her they follow'd all Up to the temple's highest tow'r, where on their knees they fall, Lift up their hands, and fill the fane with ladies' piteous cries. Then lovely Theano took the veil, and with it she implies The great Palladium, praying thus: "Goddess of most renown In all the heaven of Goddesses, great Guardian of our town, Reverend Minerva, break the lance of Diomed, cease his grace, Give him to fall in shameful flight, headlong, and on his face, Before our ports of Ilion, that instantly we may Twelve unyok'd oxen-of-a-year in this thy temple slay To thy sole honour; take their bloods, and banish our offence; Accept Troy's zeal, her wives and save, our infants' innocence." She pray'd, but Pallas would not grant. Mean space was Hector come Where Alexander's lodgings were, that many a goodly room Had built in them by architects of Troy's most curious sort, And were no lodgings, but a house; nor no house, but a court; Or had all these contain'd in them; and all within a tow'r, Next Hector's lodgings and the king's. The lov'd of heaven's chief Pow'r, Hector, here ent'red. In his hand a goodly lance he bore, Ten cubits long; the brazen head went shining in before, Help'd with a burnish'd ring of gold. He found his brother then Amongst the women, yet prepar'd to go amongst the men, For in their chamber he was set, trimming his arms, his shield, His curets, and was trying how his crooked bow would yield To his straight arms. Amongst her maids was set the Argive Queen, Commanding them in choicest works. When Hector's eye had seen His brother thus accompanied, and that he could not bear The very touching of his arms but where the women were, And when the time so needed men, right cunningly he chid. That he might do it bitterly, his cowardice he hid, That simply made him so retir'd, beneath an anger, feign'd In him by Hector, for the hate the citizens sustain'd Against him, for the foil he took in their cause; and again, 'For all their general foils in his. So Hector seems to plain Of his wrath to them, for their hate, and not his cowardice; As that were it that shelt'red him in his effeminacies, And kept him, in that dangerous time, from their fit aid in fight; For which he chid thus: "Wretched man! So timeless is thy spite Argive Queen—Helen, formerly Argive queen. Plain—complain. "Hector dissembles the cowardice he finds in Paris; turning it, as if he chid him for his anger at the Trojans for hating him, being conquered by Menelaus, when it is for his effeminacy. Which is all paraphrastical in my translation."—CHAPMAN. Timeless—untimely. "Poison I see has been his timeless end."—Romeo and Jul. v. 5. That 'tis not honest; and their hate is just 'gainst which it bends. War burns about the town for thee; for thee our slaughter'd friends Besiege Troy with their carcasses, on whose heaps our high walls Are overlook'd by enemies; the sad sounds of their falls Without are echo'd with the cries of wives and babes within ; And all for thee; and yet for them thy honour cannot win Head of thine anger. Thou shouldst need no spirit to stir up thine, But thine should set the rest on fire, and with a rage divine Chastise impartially the best that impiously forbears. Come forth, lest thy fair tow'rs and Troy be burn'd about thine ears." Paris acknowledg'd, as before, all just that Hector spake, Allowing justice, though it were for his injustice' sake; And where his brother put a wrath upon him by his art, He takes it, for his honour's sake, as sprung out of his heart, And rather would have anger seem his fault than cowardice; And thus he answer'd: "Since, with right, you join'd check with advice, And I hear you, give equal ear: It is not any spleen Against the town, as you conceive, that makes me so unseen, But sorrow for it; which to ease, and by discourse digest Within myself, I live so close; and yet, since men might wrest My sad retreat, like you, my wife with her advice inclin'd This my addression to the field, which was mine own free mind, As well as th' instance of her words; for though the foil were mine, Conquest brings forth her wreaths by turns. Stay then this haste of thine But till I arm, and I am made a cónsort for thee straight ;— Or go, I'll overtake thy haste." Helen stood at receipt, Dr. Taylor has printed " care," but probably through an oversight. Foil—defeat; alluding to the fight with Menelaus. Stood at receipt. Dr. Taylor has strangely misunderstood this passage, when he says " stood as to cover her husband's confusion," which was the very thing she did not wish to do. The meaning is simply " stood at hand," " stood by, or ready." The next line would seem to be, "and took up Hector's powerful arguments to enforce her own words, which left Paris no escape;" but it might mean, as Dr. Taylor says, " occupied Hector's attention" by her speech. The whole passage is an interpolation by Chapman. And took up all great Hector's powers t' attend her heavy words, By which had Paris no reply. This vent her grief affords : " Brother (if I may call you so, that had been better born A dog, than such a horrid dame as all men curse and scorn, A mischief-maker, a man-plague) O would to God, the day, That first gave light to me, had been a whirlwind in my way, And borne me to some desert hill, or hid me in the rage Of earth's most far-resounding seas, ere I should thus engage The dear lives of so many friends! Yet since the Gods have been Helpless foreseers of my plagues, they might have likewise seen That he they put in yoke with me, to bear out their award, Had been a man of much more spirit, and, or had noblier dar'd To shield mine honour with this deed, or with his mind had known Much better the upbraids of men, that so he might have shown (More like a man) some sense of grief for both my shame and his. But he is senseless, nor conceives what any manhood is, Nor now, nor ever after will, and therefore hangs, I fear, A plague above him. But come near, good brother; rest you here, Who, of the world of men, stands charg'd with most unrest for me, Vile wretch, and for my lover's wrong, on whom a destiny So bitter is impos'd by Jove, that all succeeding times Will put, to our unended shames, in all men's mouths our crimes." He answer'd: "Helen, do not seek to make me sit with thee; I must not stay, though well I know thy honour'd love of me. My mind calls forth to aid our friends, in whom my absence breeds Longings to see me; for whose sakes, importune thou to deeds This man by all means, that your care may make his own make hast And meet me in the open town, that all may see at last He minds his lover. I myself will now go home, and see My household, my dear wife, and son, that little hope of me; For, sister, 'tis without my skill, if I shall evermore Return, and see them, or to earth, her right in me, restore. Helpless—unaiding. Without my skill—beyond my knowledge, more than I know. The Gods may stoop me by the Greeks." This said, he went to see The virtuous princess, his true wife, white-arm'd Andromache. She, with her infant son and maid, was climb'd the tow'r, about The sight of him that sought for her, weeping and crying out. Hector, not finding her at home, was going forth, retir'd, Stood in the gate, her woman call'd, and curiously inquir'd Where she was gone; bad tell him true, if she were gone to see His sisters, or his brothers' wives; or whether she should be At temple with the other dames, t' implore Minerva's ruth. Her woman answer'd: Since he ask'd, and urg'd so much the truth, The truth was she was neither gone to see his brothers' wives, His sisters, nor t' implore the ruth of Pallas on their lives; But she (advertis'd of the bane Troy suffer'd, and how vast Conquest had made herself for Greece) like one distraught, made hast To ample Ilion with her son, and nurse, and all the way Mourn'd, and dissolv'd in tears for him. Then Hector made no stay, But trod her path, and through the streets, magnificently built, All the great city pass'd, and came where, seeing how blood was spilt, Andromache might see him come; who made as he would pass The ports without saluting her, not knowing where she was. She, with his sight, made breathless haste to meet him; she, whose grace Brought him withal so great a dow'r; she that of all the race Of king Aetion only liv'd, Aetion, whose house stood Beneath the mountain Placius, environ'd with the wood Of Theban Hypoplace, being court to the Cilician land. She ran to Hector, and with her, tender of heart and hand, Her son, borne in his nurse's arms; when, like a heavenly sign, Compact of many golden stars, the princely child did shine, Whom Hector call'd Scamandrius, but whom the town did name Astyanax, because his sire did only prop the same. Hector, though grief bereft his speech, yet smil'd upon his joy. Andromache cried out, mix'd hands, and to the strength of Troy Thus wept forth her affection: "O noblest in desire! Thy mind, inflam'd with others' good, will set thyself on fire. Nor pitiest thou thy son, nor wife, who must thy widow be If now thou issue; all the field will only run on thee. Better my shoulders underwent the earth, than thy decease; For then would earth bear joys no more; then comes the black increase Of griefs, like Greeks, on Ilion. Alas! What one survives To be my refuge? One black day bereft seven brothers' lives, By stern Achilles; by his hand my father breath'd his last, His high-wall'd rich Cilician Thebes sack'd by him, and laid wast; The royal body yet he left unspoil'd; religion charm'd That act of spoil; and all in fire he burn'd him cómplete arm'm'd; Built over him a royal tomb; and to the monument He left of him th' Oreades (that are the high descent Of Aegis-bearing Jupiter) another of their own Did add to it, and set it round with elms; by which is shown, In theirs, the barrenness of death; yet might it serve beside To shelter the sad monument from all the ruffinous pride Of storms and tempests, us'd to hurt things of that noble kind. The short life yet my mother liv'd he sav'd, and serv'd his mind With all the riches of the realm; which not enough esteem'm'd, He kept her prisoner, whom small time, but much more wealth, re-deem'd, And she, in sylvan Hypoplace, Cilicia rul'd again, But soon was over-rul'd by death; Diana's chaste disdain Gave her a lance, and took her life. Yet, all these gone from me, Thou amply render'st all; thy life makes still my father be, My mother, brothers; and besides thou art my husband too, Most lov'd, most worthy. Pity then, dear love, and do not go, For thou gone, all these go again; pity our common joy, Lest, of a father's patronage, the bulwark of all Troy, The second folio (which Dr. Taylor follows) reads " said monument;" an evident typographical error. Thou leav'st him a poor widow's charge. Stay, stay then, in this tow'r, And call up to the wild fig-tree all thy retired pow'r; For there the wall is easiest scal'd, and fittest for surprise, And there, th' Ajaces, Idomen, th' Atrides, Diomed, thrice Have both survey'd and made attempt, I know not if induc'd By some wise augury, or the fact was naturally infus'd Into their wits, or courages." To this, great Hector said: " Be well assured, wife, all these things in my kind cares are weighed. But what a shame, and fear, it is to think how Troy would scorn (Both in her husbands and her wives, whom long-train'd gowns adorn) That I should cowardly fly off! The spirit I first did breath Did never teach me that; much less, since the contempt of death Was settled in me, and my mind knew what a worthy was Whose office is to lead in fight, and give no danger pass Without improvement. In this fire must Hector's trial shine; Here must his country, father, friends, be, in him, made divine. And such a stormy day shall come (in mind and soul I know) When sacred Troy shall shed her tow'rs for tears of overthrow, When Priam, all his birth and pow'r, shall in those tears be drown'd. But neither Troy's posterity so much my soul doth wound, Priam, nor Hecuba herself, nor all my brothers' woes, (Who though so many, and so good, must all be food for foes) As thy sad state, when some rude Greek shall lead thee weeping hence, These free days clouded, and a night of captive violence Loading thy temples, out of which thine eyes must never see, But spin the Greek wives' webs of task, and their fetch-water be To Argos, from Messeides, or clear Hyperia's spring; Which howsoever thou abhorr'st, Fate's such a shrewish thing She will be mistress; whose curs'd hands, when they shall crush out cries From thy oppressions (being beheld by other enemies) Free days. The second folio has "three days;" a misprint. Shrewish—cursed, malicious. Thus they will nourish thy extremes: 'This dame was Hector's wife, A man that, at the wars of Troy, did breathe the worthiest life Of all their army.' This again will rub thy fruitful wounds, To miss the man that to thy bands could give such narrow bounds. But that day shall not wound mine eyes; the solid heap of night Shall interpose, and stop mine ears against thy plaints, and plight." This said, he reach'd to take his son, who, of his arms afraid, And then the horse-hair plume, with which he was so overlaid, Nodded so horribly, he cling'd back to his nurse, and cried. Laughter affected his great sire, who doff'd, and laid aside, His fearful helm, that on the earth cast round about it light, Then took and kiss'd his loving son, and (balancing his weight In dancing him) these loving vows to living Jove he us'd, And all the other bench of Gods: "O you that have infus'd Soul to this infant, now set down this blessing on his star;— Let his renown be clear as mine; equal his strength in war; And make his reign so strong in Troy, that years to come may yield His facts this fame, when, rich in spoils, he leaves the conquer'd field Sown with his slaughters: 'These high deeds exceed his father's worth.' And let this echo'd praise supply the comforts to come forth Of his kind mother with my life." This said, th' heroic sire Gave him his mother, whose fair eyes fresh streams of love's salt fire Billow'd on her soft cheeks, to hear the last of Hector's speech, In which his vows compris'd the sum of all he did beseech In her wish'd comfort. So she took into her odorous breast Her husband's gift; who, mov'd to see her heart so much oppress'd, He dried her tears, and thus desir'd: "Afflict me not, dear wife, With these vain griefs. He doth not live that can disjoin my life And this firm bosom, but my fate; and fate, whose wings can fly? Noble, ignoble, fate controls. Once born, the best must die. To miss the man, &c.—To miss him who could soon put an end or stop to your slavery. Go home, and set thy housewifery on these extremes of thought; And drive war from them with thy maids; keep them from doing nought; These will be nothing; leave the cares of war to men, and me In whom of all the Ilion race they take their high'st degree." On went his helm; his princess home, half cold with kindly fears, When every fear turn'd back her looks, and every look shed tears. Foe-slaughtering Hector's house soon reach'd, her many women there Wept all to see her; in his life great Hector's funerals were; Never look'd any eye of theirs to see their lord safe home, 'Scap'd from the gripes and powers of Greece. And now was Paris come From his high tow'rs; who made no stay, when once he had put on His richest armour, but flew forth; the flints he trod upon Sparkled with lustre of his arms; his long-ebb'd spirits now flow'd The higher for their lower ebb. And as a fair steed proud With full-given mangers, long tied up, and now, his head-stall broke, He breaks from stable, runs the field, and with an ample stroke Measures the centre, neighs, and lifts aloft his wanton head, About his shoulders shakes his crest, and where he hath been fed, Or in some calm flood wash'd, or, stung with his high plight, he flies Amongst his females, strength put forth, his beauty beautifies, And, like life's mirror, bears his gait; so Paris from the tow'r Of lofty Pergamus came forth; he show'd a sun-like pow'r In carriage of his goodly parts, address'd now to the strife; And found his noble brother near the place he left his wife. Him thus respected he salutes: "Right worthy, I have fear That your so serious haste to field my stay hath made forbear, And that I come not as you wish." He answer'd: "Honour'd man, Be confident, for not myself, nor any others, can Reprove in thee the work of fight, at least, not any such As is an equal judge of things; for thou hast strength as much As serves to execute a mind very important, but Thy strength too readily flies off, enough will is not put Important—full of anxiety, restless. To thy ability. My heart is in my mind's strife sad, When Troy (out of her much distress she and her friends have had By thy procurement) doth deprave thy noblesse in mine ears. But come, hereafter we shall calm these hard conceits of theirs, When, from their ports the foe expuls'd, high Jove to them hath given Wish'd peace, and us free sacrifice to all the Powers of heaven." Noblesse. The second folio has “noblenesse," which Dr. Taylor adopts; but the earlier reading is manifestly the true one.

THE ARGUMENT. WHEN Jove to all the Gods had given command, That none to either host should helpful stand, To Ida he descends; and sees from thence Juno and Pallas haste the Greeks' defence; Whose purpose, his command, by Iris given, Doth intervent. Then came the silent even, When Hector charg'd fires should consume the night, Lest Greeks in darkness took suspected flight.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. In Theta, Gods a Council have. Troy's conquest. Glorious Hector's brave.

THE cheerful Lady of the light, deck'd in her saffron robe, Dispers'd her beams through every part of this enflow'red globe, When thund'ring Jove a Court of Gods assembled by his will, In top of all the topful heights that crown th' Olympian hill. He spake, and all the Gods gave ear : "Hear how I stand inclin'd, That God nor Goddess may attempt t' infringe my sovereign mind, But all give suffrage that with speed I may these discords end. What God soever I shall find endeavour to defend Or Troy or Greece, with wounds to heaven he, sham'd, shall reascend; Or, taking him with his offence, I'll cast him down as deep As Tartarus, the brood of night, where Barathrum doth steep Torment in his profoundest sinks, where is the floor of brass, And gates of iron; the place, for depth, as far doth hell surpass, As heaven, for height, exceeds the earth; then shall he know from thence How much my power, past all the Gods, hath sovereign eminence. Endanger it the whiles and see. Let down our golden chain, And at it let all Deities their utmost strengths constrain, To draw me to the earth from heaven; you never shall prevail, Though, with your most contention, ye dare my state assail. But when my will shall be dispos'd to draw you all to me, Even with the earth itself, and seas, ye shall enforced be; Then will I to Olympus' top our virtuous engine bind, And by it everything shall hang, by my command inclin'd. So much I am supreme to Gods, to men supreme as much." The Gods sat silent, and admir'd, his dreadful speech was such. At last his blue-ey'd daughter spake : "O great Saturnides ! O father, O heaven's highest king, well know we the excess Of thy great power, compar'd with all; yet the bold Greeks' estate We needs must mourn, since they must fall beneath so hard a fate; For, if thy grave command enjoin, we will abstain from fight. But to afford them such advice as may relieve their plight We will, with thy consent, be bold; that all may not sustain The fearful burthen of thy wrath, and with their shames be slain." He smil'd, and said: "Be confident, thou art belov'd of me; I speak not this with serious thoughts, but will be kind to thee." This said, his brass-hoof'd winged horse he did to chariot bind, Whose crests were fringed with manes of gold; and golden garments shin'd On his rich shoulders; in his hand he took a golden scourge, Divinely fashion'd, and with blows their willing speed did urge " Virgil maketh this likewise his place, adding, / Bis patet in præceps tantum, tenditque sub umbras, &c."—CHAPMAN. Mid way betwixt the earth and heaven. To Ida then he came, Abounding in delicious springs, and nurse of beasts untame, Where, on the mountain Gargarus, men did a fane erect To his high name, and altars sweet; and there his horse he check'd Dissolv'd them from his chariot, and in a cloud of jet He cover'd them, and on the top took his triumphant seat, Beholding Priam's famous town, and all the fleet of Greece. The Greeks took breakfast speedily, and arm'd at every piece. So Trojans; who though fewer far, yet all to fight took arms, Dire need enforc'd them to avert their wives' and children's harms. All gates flew open; all the host did issue, foot and horse, In mighty tumult; straight one place adjoin'd each adverse force. Then shields with shields met, darts with darts, strength against strength oppos'd; The boss-pik'd targets were thrust on, and thunder'd as they clos'd In mighty tumult; groan for groan, and breath for breath did breath, Of men then slain, and to be slain; earth flow'd with fruits of death. While the fair morning's beauty held, and day increas'd in height, Their javelins mutually made death transport an equal freight, But when the hot meridian point bright Phœbus did ascend, Then Jove his golden balances did equally extend, And of long-rest-conferring death put in two bitter fates For Troy and Greece; he held the midst; the day of final dates Fell on the Greeks; the Greeks' hard lots sunk to the flow'ry ground, The Trojans' leapt as high as heaven. Then did the claps resound Of his fierce thunder; lightning leapt amongst each Grecian troop; The sight amaz'd them; pallid fear made boldest stomachs stoop. Then Idomen durst not abide, Atrides went his way, And both th' Ajaces; Nestor yet against his will did stay, That grave protector of the Greeks, for Paris with a dart Enrag'd one of his chariot horse; he smote the upper part Of all his skull, even where the hair, that made his foretop, sprung. The hurt was deadly, and the pain so sore the courser stung, Pierc'd to the brain, he stamp'd and plung'd. One on another bears, Entangled round about the beam; then Nestor cut the gears With his new-drawn authentic sword. Meanwhile the fiery horse Of Hector brake into the press, with their bold ruler's force; Then good old Nestor had been slain, had Diomed not espy'd, Who to Ulysses, as he fled, importunately cried : "Thou that in counsels dost abound, O Laertiades, Why flyest thou? Why thus, coward-like, shunn'st thou the honour'd prease? Take heed thy back take not a dart. Stay, let us both intend To drive this cruel enemy from our dear aged friend." He spake, but wary Ithacus would find no patient ear, But fled forthright, even to the fleet. Yet, though he single were, Brave Diomed mix'g'd amongst the fight, and stood before the steeds Of old Neleides, whose estate thus kingly he areeds : " O father, with these youths in fight thou art unequal plac'd, Thy willing sinews are unknit, grave age pursues thee fast, And thy unruly horse are slow; my chariot therefore use, And try how ready Trojan horse can fly him that pursues, Pursue the flier, and every way perform the varied fight; I forc'd them from Anchises' son, well skill'd in cause of flight. Then let my squire lead hence thy horse; mine thou shalt guard, whilst I, By thee advanc'd, assay the fight, that Hector's self may try If my lance dote with the defects that fail best minds in age, Or find the palsy in my hands, that doth thy life engage." This noble Nestor did accept, and Diomed's two friends, Eurymedon that valour loves, and Sthenelus, ascends Old Nestor's coach. Of Diomed's horse Nestor the charge sustains, And Tydeus' son took place of fight. Neleides held the reins, And scourg'd the horse, who swiftly ran direct in Hector's face, Whom fierce Tydides bravely charg'd, but, he turn'd from the chace, Authentic—i. e. his own. Intend—apply ourselves. Areeds—counsels, advises. See Bk. v. 308. The second folio has "my." His javelin Eniopeus smit, mighty Thebæus' son, And was great Hector's charioteer; it through his breast did run, Near to his pap; he fell to earth, back flew his frighted horse, His strength and soul were both dissolv'd. Hector had deep remorse Of his mishap, yet left he him, and for another sought; Nor long his steeds did want a guide, for straight good fortune brought Bold Archeptolemus, whose life did from Iphitis spring; He made him take the reins and mount. Then souls were set on wing; Then high exploits were undergone; then Trojans in their walls Had been infolded like meek lambs, had Jove wink'd at their falls, Who hurl'd his horrid thunder forth, and made pale lightnings fly Into the earth, before the horse that Nestor did apply. A dreadful flash burnt through the air, that savour'd sulphur-like, Which down before the chariot the dazzled horse did strike. The fair reins fell from Nestor's hand, who did in fear entreat Renown'd Tydides into flight to turn his fury's heat: " For know'st thou not," said he, " our aid is not supplied from Jove? This day he will give fame to Troy, which when it fits his love We shall enjoy. Let no man tempt his unresisted will, Though he exceed in gifts of strength, for he exceeds him still." " Father," replied the king, " 'tis true; but both my heart and soul Are most extremely griev'd to think how Hector will control My valour with his vaunts in Troy, that I was terror-sick With his approach; which when he boasts, let earth devour me quick." "Ah! warlike Tydeus' son," said he, "what needless words are these?" Though Hector should report thee faint, and amorous of thy ease, The Trojans, nor the Trojan wives, would never give him trust, Whose youthful husbands thy free hand hath smother'd so in dust." This said, he turn'd his one-hoof'd horse to flight, and troop did take, When Hector and his men, with shouts, did greedy púrsuit make, Troop did take—to take troop is a frequent expression for taking shelter amidst the troops, running back. And pour'd on darts that made air sigh. Then Hector did exclaim : "O Tydeus' son, the kings of Greece do most renown thy name With highest place, feasts, and full cups; who now will do thee shame; Thou shalt be like a woman us'd, and they will say: 'Depart, Immartial minion, since to stand Hector thou hast no heart.' Nor canst thou scale our turrets' tops, nor lead the wives to fleet Of valiant men, that wife-like fear'st my adverse charge to meet." This two ways mov'd him,—still to fly, or turn his horse and fight. Thrice thrust he forward to assault, and every time the fright Of Jove's fell thunder drave him back, which he propos'd for sign (To show the change of victory) Trojans should victors shine. Then Hector comforted his men : "All my adventurous friends, Be men, and of your famous strength think of the honour'd ends. I know benevolent Jupiter did by his beck profess Conquest and high renown to me, and to the Greeks distress. O fools, to raise such silly forts, not worth the least account, Nor able to resist our force! With ease our horse may mount Quite over all their hollow dike. But, when their fleet I reach, Let Memory to all the world a famous bonfire teach, For I will all their ships inflame, with whose infestive smoke, Fear-shrunk, and hidden near their keels, the conquer'd Greeks shall choke." Then cherish'd he his famous horse : "O Xanthus, now," said he, " And thou Podargus, Aethon too, and Lampus, dear to me, Make me some worthy recompense for so much choice of meat, Given you by fair Andromache; bread of the purest wheat, And with it, for your drink, mix'd wine, to make ye wished cheer, Still serving you before myself, her husband young and dear. Pursue, and use your swiftest speed, that we may take for prise The shield of old Neleides, which Fame lifts to the skies, Even to the handles telling it to be of massy gold. And from the shoulders let us take, of Diomed the bold, The second folio has a strange misprint in " immortal" for "immartial." The royal curace Vulcan wrought with art so exquisite. These if we make our sacred spoil, I doubt not, but this night, Even to their navy to enforce the Greeks' unturned flight." This Juno took in high disdain, and made Olympus shake As she but stirr'd within her throne, and thus to Neptune spake: "O Neptune, what a spite is this! Thou God so huge in power, Afflicts it not thy honour'd heart to see rude spoil devour These Greeks that have in Helice, and Aege, off'red thee So many and such wealthy gifts? Let them the victors be. If we, that are the aids of Greece, would beat home these of Troy, And hinder broad-ey'd Jove's proud will, it would abate his joy." He, angry, told her she was rash, and he would not be one, Of all the rest, should strive with Jove, whose power was match'd by none. Whiles they conferr'd thus, all the space the trench contain'd before (From that part of the fort that flank'd the navy-anchoring shore) Was fill'd with horse and targeteers, who there for refuge came, By Mars-swift Hector's power engaged; Jove gave his strength the fame; And he with spoilful fire had burn'd the fleet, if Juno's grace Had not inspir'd the king himself to run from place to place, And stir up every soldier's power to some illustrious deed. First visiting their leaders' tents, his ample purple weed He wore, to show all who he was, and did his station take At wise Ulysses' sable barks that did the battle make Of all the fleet; from whence his speech might with more ease be driven To Ajax' and Achilles' ships, to whose chief charge were given The vanguard and the rearguard both, both for their force of hand, And trusty bosoms. There arriv'd, thus urg'd he to withstand Th' insulting Trojans : "O what shame, ye empty-hearted lords, Is this to your admired forms! Where are your glorious words In Lemnos vaunting you the best of all the Grecian host? 'We are the strongest men,' ye said, 'we will command the most, The second folio and Dr. Taylor read, "So many and so wealthy gifts." Eating most flesh of high-horn'd beeves, and drinking cups full crown'd, And every man a hundred foes, two hundred, will confound; Now all our strength, dar'd to our worst, one Hector cannot tame,' Who presently with horrid fire will all our fleet inflame. O Father Jove, hath ever yet thy most unsuffer'd hand Afflicted with such spoil of souls the king of any land, And taken so much fame from him, when I did never fail, Since under most unhappy stars this fleet was under sail, Thy glorious altars, I protest, but, above all the Gods, Have burnt fat thighs of beeves to thee, and pray'd to raze th' abodes Of rape-defending Ilion? Yet grant, almighty Jove, One favour; that we may at least with life from hence remove, Not under such inglorious hands the hands of death employ, And, where Troy should be stoop'd by Greece, let Greece fall under Troy." To this even weeping king did Jove remorseful audience give, And shook great heaven to him, for sign his men and he should live. Then quickly cast he off his hawk, the eagle prince of air, That perfects his unspotted vows; who seiz'd in her repair A sucking hind calf, which she truss'd in her enforcive seres, And by Jove's altar let it fall, amongst th' amazed peers, Where the religious Achive kings with sacrifice did please The author of all oracles, divine Saturnides. Now, when they knew the bird of Jove, they turn'd courageous head. When none, though many kings put on, could make his vaunt, he led Tydides to renew'd assault, or issued first the dike, Or first did fight; but, far the first, stone dead his lance did strike Remorseful—compassionate. — “O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, / (Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not) / Valiant, wise, remorseful.” SHAKESPEARE. Two Gent. Ver. IV. 3. Seres—talons. Put on—attempted, came forward. Make his vaunt—make good his boast. Dr. Taylor says, "gain the vantage, come first to fight." Tydides.—He led Tydides, i. e. Tydides he led. An unusual construction. Arm'd Agelaus, by descent surnamed Phradmonides; He turn'd his ready horse to flight, and Diomed's lance did seize His back betwixt his shoulder-blades, and look'd out at his breast; He fell, and his arms rang his fall. Th' Atrides next address'd Themselves to fight; th' Ajaces next, with vehement strength endued ; Idomeneus, and his friend stout Merion, next pursued; And after these Eurypylus, Evemon's honour'd race; The ninth, with backward-wreathed bow, had little Teucer place, He still fought under Ajax' shield, who sometimes held it by, And then he look'd his object out, and let his arrow fly, And, whomsoever in the press he wounded, him he slew, Then under Ajax' seven-fold shield he presently withdrew. He far'd like an unhappy child, that doth to mother run For succour, when he knows full well he some shrewd turn hath done. What Trojans then were to their deaths by Teucer's shafts impress'd? Hapless Orsilochus was first, Ormenus, Ophelest, Dætor, and hardy Cronius, and Lycophon divine, And Amopaon that did spring from Polyæmon's line, And Menalippus; all, on heaps, he tumbled to the ground. The king rejoic'd to see his shafts the Phrygian ranks confound, Who straight came near, and spake to him: "O Teucer, lovely man, Strike still so sure, and be a grace to every Grecian, And to thy father Telamon, who took thee kindly home (Although not by his wife his son) and gave thee foster room, Even from thy childhood; then to him, though far from hence remov'd, Make good fame reach; and to thyself I vow what shall be prov'd: If he that dreadful Aegis bears, and Pallas, grant to me Th' expugnance of well-builded Troy, I first will honour thee Next to myself with some rich gift, and put it in thy hand: A three-foot vessel, that, for grace, in sacred fanes doth stand; Or two horse and a chariot; or else a lovely dame That may ascend on bed with thee, and amplify thy name." Teucer right nobly answer'd him: "Why, most illustrate king, I being thus forward of myself, dost thou adjoin a sting? Without which all the power I have I cease not to employ, For, from the place where we repuls'd the Trojans towards Troy, I all the purple field have strew'd with one or other slain. Eight shafts I shot, with long steel heads, of which not one in vain, All were in youthful bodies fix'd, well skill'd in war's constraint; Yet this wild dog, with all my aim, I have no power to taint." This said, another arrow forth from his stiff string he sent At Hector, whom he long'd to wound, but still amiss it went. His shaft smit fair Gorgythion, of Priam's princely race, Who in Aepina was brought forth, a famous town in Thrace, By Castianira, that for form was like celestial breed; And, as a crimson poppy flower, surcharged with his seed, And vernal humours falling thick, declines his heavy brow, So, of one side, his helmet's weight his fainting head did bow. Yet Teucer would another shaft at Hector's life dispose, So fain he such a mark would hit, but still beside it goes; Apollo did avert the shaft; but Hector's charioteer, Bold Archeptolemus, he smit, as he was rushing near To make the fight; to earth he fell, his swift horse back did fly, And there were both his strength and soul exil'd eternally. Huge grief for Hector's slaughter'd friend pinch'd in his mighty mind, Yet was he forc'd to leave him there, and his void place resign'd To his sad brother, that was by, Cebriones; whose ear Receiving Hector's charge, he straight the weighty reins did bear; And Hector from his shining coach, with horrid voice, leap'd on, To wreak his friend on Teucer's hand, and up he took a stone, With which he at the archer ran, who from his quiver drew A sharp-pil'd shaft, and nock'd it sure, but in great Hector flew Illustrate. The second folio, which Dr. Taylor follows, has " illustrious." Adjoin a sting—add an impulse. Taint. See Bk. III. 374. With such fell speed, that, in his draught, he his right shoulder strook Where, 'twixt his neck and breast, the joint his native closure took. The wound was wondrous full of death, his string in sunder flees, His numbed hand fell strengthless down, and he upon his knees. Ajax neglected not to aid his brother thus depress'd, But came and saft him with his shield; and two more friends, address'd To be his aid, took him to fleet, Mecisteus, Echius' son, And gay Alastor. Teucer sigh'd, for all his service done. Then did Olympius, with fresh strength, the Trojan powers revive, Who to their trenches once again the troubled Greeks did drive. Hector brought terror with his strength, and ever fought before. As when some highly-stomach'd hound, that hunts a sylvan boar, Or kingly lion, loves the haunch, and pincheth oft behind, Bold of his feet, and still observes the game to turn inclin'd, Not utterly dissolv'd in flight; so Hector did pursue, And whosoever was the last he ever did subdue. They fled, but, when they had their dike and palisadoes pass'd, (A number of them put to sword) at ships they stay'd at last. Then mutual exhortations flew, then, all with hands and eyes Advanc'd to all the Gods, their plagues wrung from them open cries. Hector, with his four rich-man'd horse, assaulting always rode, The eyes of Gorgon burnt in him, and war's vermilion God. The Goddess that all Goddesses, for snowy arms, out-shin'd, Thus spake to Pallas, to the Greeks with gracious ruth inclin'd: "O Pallas, what a grief is this! Is all our succour past To these our perishing Grecian friends? At least withheld at last, Even now, when one man's violence must make them perish all In satisfaction of a fate so full of funeral? Hector Priamides now raves, no more to be endur'd, That hath already on the Greeks so many harms inur'd. The azure Goddess answer'd her: "This man had surely found His fortitude and life dissolv'd, even on his father's ground, In his draught—as he (Teucer) was drawing his bow. Juno. By Grecian valour, if my sire, infested with ill moods, Did not so dote on these of Troy, too jealous of their bloods, And ever an unjust repulse stands to my willing powers, Little rememb'ring what I did in all the desperate hours Of his affected Hercules; I ever rescued him, In labours of Eurystheus, untouch'd in life or limb, When he, heaven knows, with drowned eyes look'd up for help to heaven, Which ever, at command of Jove, was by my suppliance given. But had my wisdom reach'd so far, to know of this event, When to the solid-ported depths of hell his son was sent To hale out hateful Pluto's dog from darksome Erebus, He had not 'scap'd the streams of Styx, so deep and dangerous. Yet Jove hates me, and shows his love in doing Thetis' will, That kiss'd his knees, and strok'd his chin, pray'd, and importun'd still, That he would honour with his aid her city-razing son, Displeas'd Achilles; and for him our friends are thus undone. But time shall come again, when he, to do his friends some aid, Will call me his Glaucopides, his sweet and blue-eyed Maid. Then harness thou thy horse for me, that his bright palace gates I soon may enter, arming me, to order these debates; And I will try if Priam's son will still maintain his cheer, When in the crimson paths of war I dreadfully appear; For some proud Trojans shall be sure to nourish dogs and fowls, And pave the shore with fat and flesh, depriv'd of lives and souls." Juno prepar'd her horse, whose manes ribands of gold enlac'd. Pallas her party-colour'd robe on her bright shoulders cast, Divinely wrought with her own hands in th' entry of her sire. Then put she on her ample breast her under-arming tire, And on it her celestial arms. The chariot straight she takes, With her huge heavy violent lance, with which she slaughter makes Affected—beloved. Suppliance—supply, assistance. Of armies fatal to her wrath. Saturnia whipp'd her horse, And heaven-gates, guarded by the Hours, op'd by their proper force. Through which they flew. Whom when Jove saw (set near th' Idalian springs) Highly displeas'd, he Iris call'd, that hath the golden wings, And said: "Fly, Iris, turn them back, let them not come at me, Our meetings, severally dispos'd, will nothing gracious be. Beneath their o'erthrown chariot I'll shiver their proud steeds, Hurl down themselves, their waggon break, and, for their stubborn deeds, In ten whole years they shall not heal the wounds I will impress With horrid thunder; that my maid may know when to address Arms 'gainst her father. For my wife, she doth not so offend, 'Tis but her use to interrupt whatever I intend." Iris, with this, left Ida's hills, and up t' Olympus flew, Met near heaven-gates the Goddesses, and thus their haste withdrew : "What course intend you? Why are you wrapp'd with your fancies' storm? Jove likes not ye should aid the Greeks, but threats, and will perform, To crush in pieces your swift horse beneath their glorious yokes, Hurl down yourselves, your chariot break, and, those empoison'd strokes His wounding thunder shall imprint in your celestial parts, In ten full springs ye shall not cure; that She that tames proud hearts (Thyself, Minerva) may be taught to know for what, and when, Thou dost against thy father fight; for sometimes childeren May with discretion plant themselves against their fathers' wills, But not, where humours only rule, in works beyond their skills. For Juno, she offends him not, nor vexeth him so much, For 'tis her use to cross his will, her impudence is such, The habit of offence in this she only doth contract, And so grieves or incenseth less, though ne'er the less her fact. Fatal—decreed by fate. See Bk. Ix. 241. Severally—separately, oppositely. "Facilè facit quod semper facit."—CHAPMAN. But thou most griev'st him, dogged dame, whom he rebukes in time, Lest silence should pervert thy will, and pride too highly climb In thy bold bosom, desperate girl, if seriously thou dare Lift thy unwieldy lance 'gainst Jove, as thy pretences are." She left them, and Saturnia said: "Ah me! Thou seed of Jove, By my advice we will no more unfit contention move With Jupiter, for mortal men; of whom, let this man die, And that man live, whoever he pursues with destiny; And let him, plotting all events, dispose of either host, As he thinks fittest for them both, and may become us most." Thus turn'd she back, and to the Hours her rich-man'd horse resign'd, Who them t' immortal mangers bound; the chariot they inclin'd Beneath the crystal walls of heaven; and they in golden thrones Consorted other Deities, replete with passions. Jove, in his bright-wheel'd chariot, his fiery horse now beats Up to Olympus, and aspir'd the Gods' eternal seats. Great Neptune loos'd his horse, his car upon the altar plac'd, And heavenly-linen coverings did round about it cast. The Far-seer us'd his throne of gold. The vast Olympus shook Beneath his feet. His wife, and maid, apart their places took, Nor any word afforded him. He knew their thoughts, and said: " Why do you thus torment yourselves? You need not sit dismay'd With the long labours you have us'd in your victorious fight, Destroying Trojans, 'gainst whose lives you heap such high despite. Ye should have held your glorious course; for, be assur'd, as far As all my pow'rs, by all means urg'd, could have sustain'd the war, Not all the host of Deities should have retir'd my hand From vow'd inflictions on the Greeks, much less you two withstand. But you, before you saw the fight, much less the slaughter there, Had all your goodly lineaments possess'd with shaking fear, And never had your chariot borne their charge to heaven again, But thunder should have smit you both, had you one Trojan slain." Both Goddesses let fall their chins upon their ivory breasts, Set next to Jove, contriving still afflicted Troy's unrests. Pallas for anger could not speak; Saturnia, contrary, Could not for anger hold her peace, but made this bold reply: "Not-to-be-suff'red Jupiter, what need'st thou still enforce Thy matchless power? We know it well; but we must yield remorse To them that yield us sacrifice. Nor need'st thou thus deride Our kind obedience, nor our griefs, but bear our powers applied To just protection of the Greeks, that anger tomb not all In Troy's foul gulf of perjury, and let them stand should fall." "Grieve not," said Jove, "at all done yet; for, if thy fair eyes please, This next red morning they shall see the great Saturnides Bring more destruction to the Greeks; and Hector shall not cease, Till he have rous'd from the fleet swift-foot Aeacides, In that day, when before their ships, for his Patroclus slain, The Greeks in great distress shall fight; for so the Fates ordain. I weigh not thy displeased spleen, though to th' extremest bounds Of earth and seas it carry thee, where endless night confounds, Japet, and my dejected Sire, who sit so far beneath, They never see the flying sun, nor hear the winds that breath, Near to profoundest Tartarus. Nor, thither if thou went, Would I take pity of thy moods, since none more impudent." To this she nothing did reply. And now Sol's glorious light Fell to the sea, and to the land drew up the drowsy night. The Trojans griev'd at Phœbus' fall, which all the Greeks desir'd, And sable night, so often wish'd, to earth's firm throne aspir'd. Hector, intending to consult, near to the gulfy flood, Far from the fleet, led to a place, pure and exempt from blood, The Trojans' forces. From their horse all lighted, and did hear Th' oration Jove-lov'd Hector made; who held a goodly spear, Eleven full cubits long, the head was brass, and did reflect A wanton light before him still, it round about was deck'd -Remorse-See suprà, line 208. Iapetus, and Chronos. Dejected-cast down from heaven. With strong hoops of new burnish'd gold. On this he lean'd, and said: "Hear me, my worthy friends of Troy, and you our honour'd aid. A little since, I had conceit we should have made retreat, By light of the inflamed fleet, with all the Greeks' escheat, But darkness hath prevented us, and saft, with special grace, These Achives and their shore-hal'd fleet. Let us then render place To sacred Night, our suppers dress, and from our chariot free Our fair-man'd horse, and meat them well. Then let there convoy'd be, From forth the city presently, oxen and well-fed sheep, Sweet wine, and bread; and fell much wood, that all night we may keep Plenty of fires, even till the light bring forth the lovely morn, And let their brightness glaze the skies, that night may not suborn The Greeks' escape, if they for flight the sea's broad back would take; At least they may not part with ease, but, as retreat they make, Each man may bear a wound with him, to cure when he comes home, Made with a shaft or sharp'ned spear, and others fear to come, With charge of lamentable war, 'gainst soldiers bred in Troy. Then let our heralds through the town their offices employ To warn the youth, yet short of war, and time-white fathers, past, That in our god-built tow'rs they see strong courts of guard be plac'd About the walls; and let our dames, yet flourishing in years, That, having beauties to keep pure, are most inclin'd to fears (Since darkness in distressful times more dreadful is than light) Make lofty fires in every house; and thus, the dangerous night, Held with strong watch, if th' enemy have ambuscadoes laid Near to our walls (and therefore seem in flight the more dismay'd, Intending a surprise, while we are all without the town) They every way shall be impugn'd to every man's renown. Perform all this, brave Trojan friends. What now I have to say Is all express'd; the cheerful morn shall other things display. It is my glory (putting trust in Jove, and other Gods) That I shall now expulse these dogs Fates sent to our abodes, Who bring ostents of destiny, and black their threat'ning fleet. But this night let us hold strong guards; to-morrow we will meet (With fierce-made war) before their ships, and I'll make known to all If strong Tydides from their ships can drive me to their wall, Or I can pierce him with my sword, and force his bloody spoil. The wished morn shall show his power, if he can shun his foil I running on him with my lance. I think, when day ascends, He shall lie wounded with the first, and by him many friends. O that I were as sure to live immortal, and sustain No frailties with increasing years, but evermore remain Ador'd like Pallas, or the Sun, as all doubts lie in me That heaven's next light shall be the last the Greeks shall ever see!" This speech all Trojans did applaud; who from their traces los'd Their sweating horse, which severally with headstalls they repos'd, And fast'ned by their chariots, when others brought from town Fat sheep and oxen, instantly, bread, wine, and hewed down Huge store of wood. The winds transferr'd into the friendly sky Their supper's savour; to the which they sat delightfully, And spent all night in open field. Fires round about them shin'd. As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind, And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, and the brows Of all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows, And even the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight, When the unmeasur'd firmament bursts to disclose her light, And all the signs in heaven are seen that glad the shepherd's heart; So many fires disclos'd their beams, made by the Trojan part, Before the face of Ilion, and her bright turrets show'd. A thousand courts of guard kept fires, and every guard allow'd Fifty stout men, by whom their horse ate oats and hard white corn, And all did wilfully expect the silver-throned morn. black i. e. their fleet is black. The original is simply "who bring (carry) fates (or destinies) upon their black ships." Wilfully-willingly, anxiously.

To Agamemnon, urging hopeless flight, Stand Diomed, and Nestor, opposite. By Nestor's counsel, legates are dismiss'd To Thetis' son; who still denies t' assist.

Iota sings the Ambassy, And great Achilles' stern reply.

So held the Trojans sleepless guard; the Greeks to Flight were given, The feeble consort of cold Fear, strangely infus'd from heaven; Grief, not to be endur'd, did wound all Greeks of greatest worth. And as two lateral-sited winds, the west wind and the north, Meet at the Thracian sea's black breast, join in a sudden blore, Tumble together the dark waves, and pour upon the shore A mighty deal of froth and weed, with which men manure ground; So Jove and Troy did drive the Greeks, and all their minds confound. With which men manure ground This piece of agricultural information is an addition of Chapman's. But Agamemnon most of all was tortur'd at his heart, Who to the voiceful heralds went, and bad them cite, apart, Each Grecian leader severally, not openly proclaim. In which he labour'd with the first; and all together came. They sadly sate. The king arose, and pour'd out tears as fast As from a lofty rock a spring doth his black waters cast, And, deeply sighing, thus bespake the Achives: “O my friends, Princes, and leaders of the Greeks, heaven's adverse King extends His wrath, with too much detriment, to my so just design, Since he hath often promis'd me, and bound it with the sign Of his bent forehead, that this Troy our vengeful hands should race, And safe return; yet, now engag'd, he plagues us with disgrace, When all our trust to him hath drawn so much blood from our friends. My glory, nor my brother's wreak, were the proposed ends, For which he drew you to these toils, but your whole countries' shame, Which had been huge to bear the rape of so divine a dame Made in despite of our revenge. And yet not that had mov'd Our pow'rs to these designs, if Jove had not our drifts approv'd; Which since we see he did for blood, 'tis desperate fight in us To strive with him; then let us fly; 'tis flight he urgeth thus." Long time still silence held them all; at last did Diomed rise: "Atrides, I am first must cross thy indiscreet advice, As may become me, being a king, in this our martial court. Be not displeas'd then; for thyself didst broadly misreport In open field my fortitude, and call'd me faint and weak, Yet I was silent, knowing the time, loth any rites to break That appertain'd thy public rule, yet all the Greeks knew well, Of every age, thou didst me wrong. As thou then didst refel My valour first of all the host, as of a man dismay'd; So now, with fit occasion given, I first blame thee afraid. " Diomed takes fit time to answer his wrong done by Agamemnon in the fourth book." - CHAPMAN. Inconstant Saturn's son hath given inconstant spirits to thee, And, with a sceptre over all, an eminent degree, But with a sceptre's sovereign grace, the chief pow'r, Fortitude, To bridle thee, he thought not best thy breast should be endu'd. Unhappy king, think'st thou the Greeks are such a silly sort, And so excessive impotent, as thy weak words import? If thy mind move thee to be gone, the way is open, go; Mycenian ships enow ride near, that brought thee to this woe. The rest of Greece will stay, nor stir till Troy be overcome With full eversion; or if not, but doters of their home, Will put on wings to fly with thee. Myself and Sthenelus Will fight till (trusting favouring Jove) we bring home Troy with us." This all applauded, and admir'd the spirit of Diomed; When Nestor, rising from the rest, his speech thus seconded: "Tydides, thou art questionless our strongest Greek in war, And gravest in thy counsels too, of all that equal are In place with thee, and stand on strength; nor is there any one Can blame, or contradict thy speech; and yet thou hast not gone So far, but we must further go. Thou'rt young, and well mightst be My youngest son, though still I yield thy words had high degree Of wisdom in them to our king, since well they did become Their right in question, and refute inglorious going home. But I, well known thy senior far, will speak, and handle all Yet to propose, which none shall check; no, not our general. A hater of society, unjust, and wild, is he That loves intestine war, being stuff'd with manless cruelty. And therefore in persuading peace, and home-flight, we the less May blame our gen'ral, as one loth to wrap in more distress Yield-acknowledge. Had thus the first folio; the second reads " hath," and Dr. Taylor " have." Propose-so the first folio; the second reads " purpose," which Dr. Taylor has adopted, and explained in a note as meaning "propose." Manless-opposite to manful, cowardly, inhuman. Bk. 111. 39. His loved soldiers. But because they bravely are resolv'd To cast lives after toils, before they part in shame involv'd, Provide we for our honour'd stay; obey black night, and fall Now to our suppers; then appoint our guards without the wall, And in the bottom of the dike; which guards I wish may stand Of our brave youth. And, Atreus' son, since thou art in command Before our other kings, be first in thy command's effect. It well becomes thee; since 'tis both what all thy peers expect, And in the royal right of things is no impair to thee. Nor shall it stand with less than right, that they invited be To supper by thee; all thy tents are amply stor'd with wine, Brought daily in Greek ships from Thrace; and to this grace of thine All necessaries thou hast fit, and store of men to wait; And, many meeting there, thou may'st hear every man's conceit, And take the best. It much concerns all Greeks to use advice Of gravest nature, since so near our ships our enemies Have lighted such a sort of fires, with which what man is joy'd? Look, how all bear themselves this night; so live, or be destroy'd." All heard, and follow'd his advice. There was appointed then Seven captains of the watch, who forth did march with all their men. The first was famous Thrasymed, adviceful Nestor's son; Ascalaphus; and Ialmen; and mighty Merion; Alphareus; and Deipyrus; and lovely Lycomed, Old Creon's joy. These seven bold lords an hundred soldiers led, In every sever'd company, and every man his pike, Some placed on the rampire's top, and some amidst the dike. All fires made, and their suppers took. Atrides to his tent Invited all the peers of Greece, and food sufficient Appos'd before them, and the peers appos'd their hands to it. Hunger and thirst being quickly quench'd, to counsel still they sit. And first spake Nestor, who they thought of late advis'd so well, A father grave, and rightly wise, who thus his tale did tell: " Most high Atrides, since in thee I have intent to end, From thee will I begin my speech, to whom Jove doth commend The empire of so many men, and puts into thy hand A sceptre, and establish'd laws, that thou mayst well command, And counsel all men under thee. It therefore doth behove Thyself to speak most, since of all thy speeches most will move; And yet to hear, as well as speak; and then perform as well A free just counsel; in thee still must stick what others tell. For me, what in my judgment stands the most convenient I will advise, and am assur'd advice more competent Shall not be given, the general proof, that hath before been made Of what I speak, confirms me still, and now may well persuade, Because I could not then, yet ought, when thou, most royal king, Even from the tent, Achilles' love didst violently bring, Against my counsel, urging thee by all means to relent; But you, obeying your high mind, would venture the event, Dishonouring our ablest Greek, a man th' Immortals grace. Again yet let's deliberate, to make him now embrace Affection to our general good, and bring his force to field; Both which kind words and pleasing gifts must make his virtues yield." "O father," answered the king, "my wrongs thou tell'st me right. Mine own offence mine own tongue grants. One man must stand in fight For our whole army; him I wrong'd; him Jove loves from his heart, He shows it in thus honouring him; who, living thus apart, Proves us but number, for his want makes all our weakness seen. Yet after my confess'd offence, soothing my hum'rous spleen, I'll sweeten his affects again with presents infinite, Which, to approve my firm intent, I'll openly recite : Seven sacred tripods free from fire; ten talents of fine gold; Twenty bright cauldrons; twelve young horse, well shap'd, and well controll'd, Proves us but number-numerous only, not powerful or valiant. And victors too, for they have won the prize at many a race, That man should not be poor that had but what their winged pace Hath added to my treasury, nor feel sweet gold's defect. Seven Lesbian ladies he shall have, that were the most select, And in their needles rarely skill'd, whom, when he took the town Of famous Lesbos, I did choose, who won the chief renown For beauty from their whole fair sex, amongst whom I'll resign Fair Brisis, and I deeply swear (for any fact of mine That may discourage her receipt) she is untouch'd, and rests As he resign'd her. To these gifts, if Jove to our requests Vouchsafe performance, and afford the work, for which we wait, Of winning Troy, with brass and gold he shall his navy freight; And, ent'ring when we be at spoil, that princely hand of his Shall choose him twenty Trojan dames, excepting Tyndaris, The fairest Pergamus enfolds; and, if we make retreat To Argos, call'd of all the world the Navel, or chief seat, He shall become my son-in-law, and I will honour him Even as Orestes, my sole son, that doth in honours swim. Three daughters in my well-built court unmarried are, and fair; Laodice, Chrysothemis that hath the golden hair, And Iphianassa; of all three the worthiest let him take All jointureless to Peleus' court, I will her jointure make, And that so great as never yet did any maid prefer. Seven cities right magnificent I will bestow on her ; Enope, and Cardamyle, Hira for herbs renown'd, The fair Aepea, Pedasus that doth with grapes abound, Anthæa girded with green meads, Phera surnam'd Divine; All whose bright turrets on the seas, in sandy Pylos, shine. Th' inhabitants in flocks and herds are wondrous confluent, Who like a God will honour him, and him with gifts present, Tyndaris-Helen. Jointureless-i. e. without the portion it was usual to pay the father on marrying his daughter. Confluent-affluent. And to his throne will contribute what tribute he will rate. All this I gladly will perform, to pacify his hate. Let him be mild and tractable; 'tis for the God of ghosts To be unrul'd, implacable, and seek the blood of hosts, Whom therefore men do much abhor; then let him yield to me, I am his greater, being a king, and more in years than he." "Brave king," said Nestor, "these rich gifts must make him needs relent, Choose then fit legates instantly to greet him at his tent. But stay; admit my choice of them, and let them straight be gone. Jove-loved Phenix shall be chief, then Ajax Telamon, And prince Ulysses; and on them let these two heralds wait, Grave Odius and Eurybates. Come, lords, take water straight, Make pure your hands, and with sweet words appease Achilles' mind, Which we will pray the king of Gods may gently make inclin'd." All lik'd his speech; and on their hands the heralds water shed, The youths crown'd cups of sacred wine to all distributed. But having sacrific'd, and drunk to every man's content, With many notes by Nestor given, the legates forward went. With courtship in fit gestures us'd he did prepare them well, But most Ulysses, for his grace did not so much excel. Such rites beseem ambassadors; and Nestor urged these, That their most honours might reflect enrag'd Aeacides. They went along the shore, and pray'd the God, that earth doth bind In brackish chains, they might not fail, but bow his mighty mind. The quarter of the Myrmidons they reach'd, and found him set Delighted with his solemn harp, which curiously was fret With works conceited through the verge; the bawdrick that embrac'd His lofty neck was silver twist; this, when his hand laid waste target="n9.177_ref With courtship in fit gestures us'd-Chapman has well preserved the meaning of the original δενδίλλων. for his grace did not so much excel. This is quite contrary to Homer's meaning. He simply says Nestor addressed each chief, but principally Ulysses. The reason doubtless being because he had most confidence in him. Reflect-turn back. Aëtion's city, he did choose as his especial prise, And, loving sacred music well, made it his exercise. To it he sung the glorious deeds of great heroës dead, And his true mind, that practice fail'd, sweet contemplation fed. With him alone, and opposite, all silent sat his friend, Attentive, and beholding him, who now his song did end. Th' ambassadors did forwards press, renown'd Ulysses led, And stood in view. Their sudden sight his admiration bred, Who with his harp and all arose; so did Menetius' son When he beheld them. Their receipt Achilles thus begun: "Health to my lords! Right welcome men assure yourselves you be, Though some necessity I know doth make you visit me Incens'd with just cause 'gainst the Greeks." This said, a several seat With purple cushions he set forth, and did their ease intreat, And said: "Now, friend, our greatest bowl, with wine unmix'd and neat, Appose these lords, and of the depth let every man make proof, These are my best-esteemed friends, and underneath my roof." Patroclus did his dear friend's will; and he that did desire To cheer the lords, come faint from fight, set on a blazing fire A great brass pot, and into it a chine of mutton put, And fat goat's flesh. Automedon held, while he pieces cut, To roast and boil, right cunningly; then of a well-fed swine A huge fat shoulder he cuts out, and spits it wondrous fine. His good friend made a goodly fire; of which the force once past, He laid the spit low, near the coals, to make it brown at last, Then sprinkled it with sacred salt, and took it from the racks. This roasted and on dresser set, his friend Patroclus takes Bread in fair baskets; which set on, Achilles brought the meat, And to divinest Ithacus took his opposed seat Upon the bench. Then did he will his friend to sacrifice, Who cast sweet incense in the fire to all the Deities. He-Achilles. Thus fell they to their ready food. Hunger and thirst allay'd, Ajax to Phœnix made a sign, as if too long they stay'd Before they told their legacy. Ulysses saw him wink, And filling the great bowl with wine did to Achilles drink : "Health to Achilles! But our plights stand not in need of meat, Who late supp'd at Atrides' tent, though for thy love we eat Of many things, whereof a part would make a cómplete feast. Nor can we joy in these kind rites, that have our hearts oppress'd, O prince, with fear of utter spoil. 'Tis made a question now If we can save our fleet or not, unless thyself endow Thy powers with wonted fortitude. Now Troy and her consorts, Bold of thy want, have pitch'd their tents close to our fleet and forts, And made a firmament of fires; and now no more they say Will they be prison'd in their walls, but force their violent way Even to our ships; and Jove himself hath with his lightnings show'd Their bold adventures happy signs; and Hector grows so proud Of his huge strength, borne out by Jove, that fearfully he raves, Presuming neither men nor Gods can interrupt his braves, Wild rage invades him, and he prays that soon the sacred Morn Would light his fury, boasting then our streamers shall be torn, And all our naval ornaments fall by his conquering stroke, Our ships shall burn, and we ourselves lie stifled in the smoke. And I am seriously afraid Heaven will perform his threats, And that 'tis fatal to us all, far from our native seats, To perish in victorious Troy. But rise, though it be late, Deliver the afflicted Greeks from Troy's tumultuous hate, It will hereafter be thy grief, when no strength can suffice To remedy th' affected threats of our calamities. Consider these affairs in time, while thou mayst use thy pow'r, And have the grace to turn from Greece fate's unrecover'd hour. Legacy--embassy. Bk. vII. 348. Fatal-fated. Bk. VIII. 344. Unrecover'd-irrecoverable. O friend, thou know'st thy royal sire forewarn'd what should be done, That day he sent thee from his court to honour Atreus' son : 'My son,' said he, 'the victory let Jove and Pallas use At their high pleasures, but do thou no honour'd means refuse That may advance her. In fit bounds contain thy mighty mind, Nor let the knowledge of thy strength be factiously inclin'd, Contriving mischiefs. Be to fame and general good profess'd. The more will all sorts honour thee. Benignity is best.' Thus charg'd thy sire, which thou forgett'st. Yet now those thoughts appease That torture thy great spirit with wrath, which if thou wilt surcease, The king will merit it with gifts; and, if thou wilt give ear, I'll tell how much he offers thee yet thou sitt'st angry here: Seven tripods that no fire must touch; twice ten pans fit for flame; Ten talents of fine gold; twelve horse that ever overcame, And brought huge prizes from the field with swiftness of their feet, That man should bear no poor account, nor want gold's quick'ning sweet, That had but what he won with them; seven worthiest Lesbian dames, Renown'd for skill in housewifery, and bear the sovereign fames For beauty from their general sex, which, at thy overthrow Of well-built Lesbos, he did choose; and these he will bestow, And with these her he took from thee, whom, by his state, since then, He swears he touch'd not, as fair dames use to be touch'd by men. All these are ready for thee now. And, if at length we take, By helps of Gods, this wealthy town, thy ships shall burthen make Of gold and brass at thy desires, when we the spoil divide; And twenty beauteous Trojan dames thou shall select beside, Next Helen, the most beautiful; and, when return'd we be To Argos, be his son-in-law, for he will honour thee Like his Orestes, his sole son, maintain'd in height of bliss. Three daughters beautify his court, the fair Chrysothemis, Laodice, and Iphianesse; of all the fairest take To Peleus' thy grave father's court, and never jointure make, Merit-reward. An unusual application of the word. Yet-while. He will the jointure make himself, so great, as never sire Gave to his daughter's nuptials. Seven cities left entire; Cardamyle, and Enope, and Hira full of flowers, Anthæa for sweet meadows prais'd, and Phera deck'd with towers, The bright Aepea, Pedasus that doth God Bacchus please; All, on the sandy Pylos' soil, are seated near the seas. Th' inhabitants in droves and flocks exceeding wealthy be, Who, like a God, with worthy gifts will gladly honour thee, And tribute of especial rate to thy high sceptre pay. All this he freely will perform thy anger to allay. But if thy hate to him be more than his gifts may repress, Yet pity all the other Greeks, in such extreme distress, Who with religion honour thee; and to their desperate ill, Thou shalt triumphant glory bring, and Hector thou mayst kill, When pride makes him encounter thee, fill'd with a baneful sprite, Who vaunts our whole fleet brought not one equal to him in fight." Swift-foot Aeacides replied: "Divine Laertes' son, 'Tis requisite I should be short, and show what place hath won Thy serious speech, affirming nought but what you shall approve Establish'd in my settled heart, that in the rest I move No murmur nor exception; for like hell mouth I loath Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguish'd troth. What fits the freeness of my mind my speech shall make display'd. Nor Atreus' son, nor all the Greeks, shall win me to their aid, Their suit is wretchedly enforced to free their own despairs, And my life never shall be hir'd with thankless desperate prayers; For never had I benefit, that ever foil'd the foe. Even share hath he that keeps his tent and he to field doth go, With equal honour cowards die, and men most valiant, The much performer, and the man that can of nothing vaunt. No overplus I ever found, when, with my mind's most strife To do them good, to dangerous fight I have expos'd my life. But even as to unfeather'd birds the careful dam brings meat, Which when she hath bestow'd, herself hath nothing left to eat; So, when my broken sleeps have drawn the nights t' extremest length, And ended many bloody days with still-employed strength, To guard their weakness, and preserve their wives' contents infract, I have been robb'd before their eyes. Twelve cities I have sack'd Assail'd by sea, eleven by land, while this siege held at Troy; And of all these, what was most dear, and most might crown the joy Of Agamemnon, he enjoy'd, who here behind remain'd; Which when he took, a few he gave, and many things retain'd, Other to optimates and kings he gave, who hold them fast, Yet mine he forceth; only I sit with my loss disgrac'd. But so he gain a lovely dame, to be his bed's delight, It is enough; for what cause else do Greeks and Trojans fight? Why brought he hither such an host? Was it not for a dame? For fair-hair'd Helen? And doth love alone the hearts inflame Of the Atrides to their wives of all the men that move? Every discreet and honest mind cares for his private love As much as they; as I myself lov'd Brisis as my life, Although my captive, and had will to take her for my wife. Whom since he forc'd, preventing me, in vain he shall prolong Hopes to appease me that know well the deepness of my wrong. But, good Ulysses, with thyself, and all you other kings, Let him take stomach to repel Troy's fiery threatenings. Much hath he done without my help, built him a goodly fort, Cut a dike by it, pitch'd with pales, broad and of deep import, And cannot all these helps repress this kill-man Hector's fright? When I was arm'd among the Greeks, he would not offer fight Without the shadow of his walls, but to the Scæan ports, Or to the holy beech of Jove, come back'd with his consorts; Where once he stood my charge alone, and hardly made retreat, And to make new proof of our powers, the doubt is not so great. To-morrow then, with sacrifice perform'd t' imperial Jove And all the Gods, I'll launch my fleet, and all my men remove; Which (if thou wilt use so thy sight, or think'st it worth respect) In forehead of the morn, thine eyes shall see, with sails erect Amidst the fishy Hellespont, help'd with laborious oars. And, if the Sea-god send free sail, the fruitful Phthian shores Within three days we shall attain, where I have store of prise, Left when with prejudice I came to these indignities. There have I gold as well as here, and store of ruddy brass, Dames slender, elegantly girt, and steel as bright as glass. These will I take as I retire, as shares I firmly save, Though Agamemnon be so base to take the gifts he gave. Tell him all this, and openly, I on your honours charge, That others may take shame to hear his lusts command so large, And, if there yet remain a man he hopeth to deceive (Being dyed in endless impudence) that man may learn to leave His trust and empire. But alas, though, like a wolf he be, Shameless and rude, he durst not take my prise, and look on me. I never will partake his works, nor counsels, as before, He once deceiv'd and injur'd me, and he shall never more Tye my affections with his words. Enough is the increase Of one success in his deceits, which let him joy in peace, And bear it to a wretched end. Wise Jove hath reft his brain To bring him plagues, and these his gifts I, as my foes, disdain. Even in the numbness of calm death I will revengeful be, Though ten or twenty times so much he would bestow on me, All he hath here, or any where, or Orchomen contains, To which men bring their wealth for strength, or all the store remains In circuit of Egyptian Thebes, where much hid treasure lies, Whose walls contain an hundred ports, of so admir'd a size Two hundred soldiers may a-front with horse and chariots pass. Nor, would he amplify all this like sand, or dust, or grass, Prejudice-loss to myself. Should he reclaim me, till this wreak pay'd me for all the pains That with his contumely burn'd like poison in my veins. Nor shall his daughter be my wife, although she might contend With golden Venus for her form, or if she did transcend Blue-ey'd Minerva for her works; let him a Greek select Fit for her, and a greater king. For if the Gods protect My safety to my father's court, he shall choose me a wife. Many fair Achive princesses of unimpeached life In Helle and in Phthia live, whose sires do cities hold, Of whom I can have whom I will. And, more an hundred fold My true mind in my country likes to take a lawful wife Than in another nation, and there delight my life With those goods that my father got, much rather than die here. Not all the wealth of well-built Troy, possess'd when peace was there, All that Apollo's marble fane in stony Pythos holds, I value equal with the life that my free breast enfolds. Sheep, oxen, tripods, crest-deck'd horse, though lost, may come again, But when the white guard of our teeth no longer can contain Our human soul, away it flies, and, once gone, never more To her frail mansion any man can her lost pow'rs restore. And therefore since my mother-queen, fam'd for her silver feet, Told me two fates about my death in my direction meet: The one, that, if I here remain t' assist our victory, My safe return shall never live, my fame shall never die; If my return obtain success, much of my fame decays, But death shall linger his approach, and I live many days. This being reveal'd, 'twere foolish pride t' abridge my life for praise. Then with myself I will advise others to hoise their sail, For, 'gainst the height of Ilion, you never shall prevail, Jove with his hand protecteth it, and makes the soldiers bold. This tell the kings in every part, for so grave legates should, Once gone-the second folio erroneously reads " once again." Both folios have "king;" but it is evident from the context, and a reference to the original, that the plural is the true reading. That they may better counsels use, to save their fleet and friends By their own valours; since this course, drown'd in my anger, ends. Phœnix may in my tent repose, and in the morn steer course For Phthia, if he think it good; if not, I'll use no force." All wond'red at his stern reply; and Phenix, full of fears His words would be more weak than just, supplied their wants with tears. "If thy return incline thee thus, Peleus' renowned joy, And thou wilt let our ships be burn'd with harmful fire of Troy, Since thou art angry, O my son, how shall I after be Alone in these extremes of death, relinquished by thee? I, whom thy royal father sent as orderer of thy force, When to Atrides from his court he left thee for this course, Yet young, and when in skill of arms thou didst not so abound, Nor hadst the habit of discourse that makes men so renown'd. In all which I was set by him t' instruct thee as my son, That thou might'st speak, when speech was fit, and do, when deeds were done, Not sit as dumb, for want of words, idle, for skill to move. I would not then be left by thee, dear son, begot in love, No, not if God would promise me to raze the prints of time Carv'd in my bosom and my brows, and grace me with the prime Of manly youth, as when at first I left sweet Helle's shore Deck'd with fair dames, and fled the grudge my angry father bore ; Who was the fair Amyntor call'd, surnam'd Ormenides, And for a fair-hair'd harlot's sake, that his affects could please, Contemn'd my mother, his true wife, who ceaseless urged me To use his harlot Clytia, and still would clasp my knee To do her will, that so my sire might turn his love to hate Of that lewd dame, converting it to comfort her estate. At last I was content to prove to do my mother good, And reconcile my father's love; who straight suspicious stood, Pursuing me with many a curse, and to the Furies pray'd No dame might love, nor bring me seed. The Deities obey'd The second folio reads, " since this course drowned in my eager ends." That govern hell, infernal Jove, and stern Persephone. Then durst I in no longer date with my stern father be. Yet did my friends, and near allies, inclose me with desires Not to depart; kill'd sheep, boars, beeves; roast them at solemn fires; And from my father's tuns we drunk exceeding store of wine. Nine nights they guarded me by turns, their fires did ceaseless shine, One in the porch of his strong hall, and in the portal one, Before my chamber; but when day beneath the tenth night shone, I brake my chamber's thick-fram'd doors, and through the hall's guard pass'd, Unseen of any man or maid. Through Greece then, rich and vast, I fled to Phthia, nurse of sheep, and came to Peleus' court, Who entertain'd me heartily, and in as gracious sort As any sire his only son, born when his strength is spent, And bless'd with great possessions to leave to his descent. He made me rich, and to my charge did much command commend. I dwelt in th' utmost region rich Phthia doth extend, And govern'd the Dolopians, and made thee what thou art. O thou that like the Gods art fram'd, since, dearest to my heart, I us'd thee so, thou lov'dst none else; nor anywhere wouldst eat, Till I had crown'd my knee with thee, and carv'd thee tend'rest meat, And given thee wine so much, for love, that, in thy infancy (Which still discretion must protect, and a continual eye) My bosom lovingly sustain'd the wine thine could not bear. Then, now my strength needs thine as much, be mine to thee as dear, Much have I suffer'd for thy love, much labour'd, wished much, Thinking, since I must have no heir (the Gods' decrees are such) I would adopt thyself my heir. To thee my heart did give What any sire could give his son. In thee I hop'd to live. O mitigate thy mighty spirits. It fits not one that moves The hearts of all to live unmov'd, and succour hates for loves. Persephone-the Greek form; thus the first folio. The second has "Proserpine." Thyself the second folio has " myself." The Gods themselves are flexible, whose virtues, honours, powers, Are more than thine, yet they will bend their breasts as we bend ours. Perfumes, benign devotions, savours of off'rings burn'd, And holy rites, the engines are with which their hearts are turn'd By men that pray to them, whose faith their sins have falsified. For Prayers are daughters of great Jove, lame, wrinkled, ruddy ey'd, And ever following Injury, who, strong and sound of feet, Flies through the world, afflicting men. Believing Prayers yet, To all that love that Seed of Jove, the certain blessing get To have Jove hear, and help them too; but if he shall refuse, And stand inflexible to them, they fly to Jove, and use Their powers against him, that the wrongs he doth to them may fall On his own head, and pay those pains whose cure he fails to call. Then, great Achilles, honour thou this sacred Seed of Jove, And yield to them, since other men of greatest minds they move. If Agamemnon would not give the selfsame gifts he vows, But offer other afterwards, and in his still-bent brows Entomb his honour and his word, I would not thus exhort, With wrath appeas'd, thy aid to Greece, though plagued in heaviest sort; But much he presently will give, and after yield the rest. T' assure which he hath sent to thee the men thou lovest best, And most renown'd of all the host, that they might soften thee. Then let not both their pains and prayers lost and despised be, Before which none could reprehend the tumult of thy heart, But now to rest inexpiate were much too rude a part. Of ancient worthies we have heard, when they were more displeas'd, To their high fames, with gifts and prayers they have been still appeas'd. For instance, I remember well a fact perform'd of old, Which to you all, my friends, I'll tell: The Curets wars did hold With the well-fought Aetolians, where mutual lives had end About the city Calydon. Th' Aetolians did defend Their flourishing country, which to spoil the Curets did contend. Rest inexpiate-remain implacable. Diana with-the-golden-throne, with Oeneus much incens'd Since with his plenteous land's first fruits she was not reverenc'd (Yet other Gods, with hecatombs, had feasts, and she alone, Great Jove's bright daughter, left unserv'd, or by oblivion, Or undue knowledge of her dues) much hurt in heart she swore; And she, enrag'd, excited much, she sent a sylvan boar From their green groves, with wounding tusks, who usually did spoil King Oeneus' fields, his lofty woods laid prostrate on the soil, Rent by the roots trees fresh, adorn'd with fragrant apple flow'rs. Which Meleager (Oeneus' son) slew, with assembled pow'rs Of hunters, and of fiercest hounds, from many cities brought, For such he was that with few lives his death could not be bought, Heaps of dead humans, by his rage, the funeral piles applied. Yet, slain at last, the Goddess stirr'd about his head, and hide, A wondrous tumult, and a war betwixt the Curets wrought And brave Aetolians. All the while fierce Meleager fought, Ill far'd the Curets. Near the walls none durst advance his crest, Though they were many. But when wrath inflam'd his haughty breast (Which oft the firm mind of the wise with passion doth infest) Since 'twixt his mother-queen and him arose a deadly strife, He left the court, and privately liv'd with his lawful wife, Fair Cleopatra, female birth of bright Marpessa's pain, And of Ideus; who of all terrestrial men did reign, At that time, king of fortitude, and for Marpessa's sake, 'Gainst wanton Phœbus, king of flames, his bow in hand did take, Since he had ravish'd her, his joy; whom her friends after gave The surname of Alcyone, because they could not save Their daughter from Alcyone's fate. In Cleopatra's arms Lay Meleager, feeding on his anger, for the harms His mother pray'd might fall on him; who, for her brother slain By Meleager, griev'd, and pray'd the Gods to wreak her pain Usually as is their wont. With all the horror could be pour'd upon her furious birth. Still knock'd she with her impious hands the many-feeding earth, To urge stern Pluto and his Queen t' incline their vengeful ears, Fell on her knees, and all her breast dew'd with her fiery tears, To make them massacre her son, whose wrath enrag'd her thus. Erinnys, wand'ring through the air, heard, out of Erebus, Pray'rs fit for her unpleased mind. Yet Meleager lay Obscur'd in fury. Then the bruit of the tumultuous fray Rung through the turrets as they scal'd; then came the Aetolian peers To Meleager with low suits to rise and free their fears; Then sent they the chief priests of Gods with offer'd gifts t' atone His differing fury, bade him choose, in sweet-soil'd Calydon, Of the most fat and yieldy soil, what with an hundred steers Might in an hundred days be plough'd, half that rich vintage bears, And half of naked earth to plough; yet yielded not his ire. Then to his lofty chamber-door ascends his royal sire With ruthful plaints, shook the strong bars; then came his sisters' cries; His mother then; and all intreat;-yet still more stiff he lies;- His friends, most reverend, most esteem'd; yet none impression took, Till the high turrets where he lay, and his strong chamber, shook With the invading enemy, who now forc'd dreadful way Along the city. Then his wife, in pitiful dismay, Besought him, weeping; telling him the miseries sustain'd By all the citizens, whose town the enemy had gain'd; Men slaughter'd; children bondslaves made; sweet ladies forc'd with lust; Fires climbing tow'rs, and turning them to heaps of fruitless dust. These dangers soft'ned his steel heart. Up the stout prince arose, Indu'd his body with rich arms, and freed th' Aetolians' woes, His smother'd anger giving air, which gifts did not assuage But his own peril. And because he did not disengage Unpleased-implacable. Differing-angry. As we use the word a difference in the sense of a quarrel. Their lives for gifts, their gifts he lost. But for my sake, dear friend, Be not thou bent to see our plights to these extremes descend, Ere thou assist us; be not so by thy ill angel turn'd From thine own honour. It were shame to see our navy burn'd, And then come with thy timeless aid. For offer'd presents, come, And all the Greeks will honour thee, as of celestial room. But if without these gifts thou fight, forc'd by thy private woe, Thou wilt be nothing so renown'd, though thou repel the foe." Achilles answer'd the last part of this oration thus: "Phœnix, renown'd and reverend, the honours urg'd on us We need not. Jove doth honour me, and to my safety sees, And will, whiles I retain a spirit, or can command my knees. Then do not thou with tears and woes impassion my affects, Becoming gracious to my foe. Nor fits it the respects Of thy vow'd love to honour him that hath dishonour'd me, Lest such loose kindness lose his heart that yet is firm to thee. It were thy praise to hurt with me the hurter of my state, Since half my honour and my realm thou mayst participate. Let these lords then return th' event, and do thou here repose, And, when dark sleep breaks with the day, our counsels shall disclose The course of our return or stay." This said, he with his eye Made to his friend a covert sign, to hasten instantly A good soft bed, that the old prince, soon as the peers were gone, Might take his rest; when, soldier-like, brave Ajax Telamon Spake to Ulysses, as with thought Achilles was not worth The high direction of his speech, that stood so sternly forth Unmov'd with th' other orators, and spake, not to appease Pelides' wrath, but to depart. His arguments were these: As of celestial room-as one of the family of the Gods. The second folio has "his," which Dr. Taylor has followed. Impassion my affects-passionately appeal to my feelings. -Return th' event- tell the issue of their embassy. We use the word, to make a parliamentary return. "High-issued Laertiades, let us insist no more On his persuasion. I perceive the world would end before Our speeches end in this affair. We must with utmost haste Return his answer, though but bad. The peers are elsewhere plac'd, And will not rise till we return. Great Thetis' son hath stor'd Proud wrath within him, as his wealth, and will not be implor'd, Rude that he is, nor his friends' love respects, do what they can, Wherein past all, we honour'd him. O unremorseful man! Another for his brother slain, another for his son, Accepts of satisfaction; and he the deed hath done Lives in belov'd society long after his amends, To which his foe's high heart, for gifts, with patience condescends; But thee a wild and cruel spirit the Gods for plague have given, And for one girl, of whose fair sex we come to offer seven, The most exempt for excellence, and many a better prise. Then put a sweet mind in thy breast, respect thy own allies, Though others make thee not remiss. A multitude we are, Sprung of thy royal family, and our supremest care Is to be most familiar, and hold most love with thee Of all the Greeks, how great an host soever here there be." He answer'd: "Noble Telamon, prince of our soldiers here, Out of thy heart I know thou speak'st, and as thou hold'st me dear, But still as often as I think how rudely I was us'd, And, like a stranger, for all rites, fit for our good, refus'd, My heart doth swell against the man that durst be so profane To violate his sacred place; not for my private bane, But since wrack'd virtue's general laws he shameless did infringe; For whose sake I will loose the reins, and give mine anger swinge, Without my wisdom's least impeach. He is a fool, and base, That pities vice-plagued minds, when pain, not love of right, gives place. And therefore tell your king, my lords, my just wrath will not care For all his cares, before my tents and navy charged are Unremorseful- See Bk. VIII. 208. By warlike Hector, making way through flocks of Grecian lives, Enlight'ned by their naval fire; but when his rage arrives About my tent, and sable bark, I doubt not but to shield Them and myself, and make him fly the there strong-bounded field." This said, each one but kiss'd the cup, and to the ships retir'd; Ulysses first. Patroclus then the men and maids requir'd To make grave Phoenix' bed with speed, and see he nothing lacks. They straight obey'd, and thereon laid the subtile fruit of flax, And warm sheep-fells for covering; and there the old man slept, Attending till the golden Morn her usual station kept. Achilles lay in th' inner room of his tent richly wrought, And that fair lady by his side that he from Lesbos brought, Bright Diomeda, Phorbas' seed. Patroclus did embrace The beauteous Iphis, given to him when his bold friend did race The lofty Scyrus that was kept in Enyeius' hold. Now at the tent of Atreus' son, each man with cups of gold Receiv'd th' ambassadors return'd. All cluster'd near to know What news they brought; which first the king would have Ulysses show : " Say, most praiseworthy Ithacus, the Grecians' great renown, Will he defend us? Or not yet will his proud stomach down?" Ulysses made reply: "Not yet will he appeased be, But grows more wrathful, prizing light thy offer'd gifts and thee, And wills thee to consult with us, and take some other course To save our army and our fleet, and says, ' with all his force, The morn shall light him on his way to Phthia's wished soil, For never shall high-seated Troy be sack'd with all our toil, Jove holds his hand 'twixt us and it, the soldiers gather heart.' Thus he replies, which Ajax here can equally impart, And both these heralds. Phœnix stays, for so was his desire, To go with him, if he thought good; if not, he might retire." Subtile-Latin subtilis, fine. Ben Jonson uses the word in this sense (Catiline II. 3) when he speaks of " subtile lips." Shakespeare, (Coriolanus v. 2.) "Like to a bowl upon a subtile ground," where it refers to the smoothness of the bowling ground. All wond'red he should be so stern; at last bold Diomed spake : "Would God, Atrides, thy request were yet to undertake, And all thy gifts unoffer'd him! He's proud enough beside, But this ambassage thou hast sent will make him burst with pride. But let us suffer him to stay, or go, at his desire, Fight when his stomach serves him best, or when Jove shall inspire. Meanwhile, our watch being strongly held, let us a little rest After our food; strength lives by both, and virtue is their guest. Then when the rosy-finger'd Morn holds out her silver light, Bring forth thy host, encourage all, and be thou first in fight." The kings admir'd the fortitude that so divinely mov'd The skilful horseman Diomed, and his advice approv'd. Then with their nightly sacrifice each took his several tent, Where all receiv'd the sovereign gifts soft Somnus did present. Virtue is their guest-valour accompanies food and rest.

THE ARGUMENT. Jove calls a vision up from Somnus' den To bid Atrides muster up his men. The King, to Greeks dissembling his desire, Persuades them to their country to retire. By Pallas' will, Ulysses stays their flight; And wise old Nestor heartens them to fight. They take their meat; which done, to arms they go, And march in good array against the foe. So those of Troy; when Iris, from the sky, Of Saturn's son performs the embassy.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Kappa the night's watch companion chooses; The spies adventure; and the horse of Rhesus.

Preparing some exceeding rain, or hail the fruit of cold, Or down-like snow that suddenly makes all the fields look old, Or opes the gulfy mouth of war with his ensulphur'd hand, In dazzling flashes pour'd from clouds, on any punish'd land; So from Atrides' troubled heart, through his dark sorrows, flew Redoubled sighs; his entrails shook, as often as his view Admir'd the multitude of fires that gilt the Phrygian shade, And heard the sounds of fifes, and shawms, and tumults soldiers made. But when he saw his fleet and host kneel to his care and love, He rent his hair up by the roots as sacrifice to Jove, Burnt in his fiery sighs, still breath'd out of his royal heart, And first thought good to Nestor's care his sorrows to impart, To try if royal diligence, with his approv'd advice, Might fashion counsels to prevent their threat'ned miseries. So up he rose, attir'd himself, and to his strong feet tied Rich shoes, and cast upon his back a ruddy lion's hide, So ample it his ankles reach'd, then took his royal spear. Like him was Menelaus pierc'd with an industrious fear, Nor sat sweet slumber on his eyes, lest bitter fates should quite The Greeks' high favours, that for him resolv'd such endless fight. And first a freckled panther's hide hid his broad back athwart ; His head his brazen helm did arm; his able hand his dart; Then made he all his haste to raise his brother's head as rare, That he who most excell'd in rule might help t' effect his care. He found him, at his ship's crook'd stern, adorning him with arms, Who joy'd to see his brother's spirits awak'd without alarms, Well weighing th' importance of the time. And first the younger spake: "Why, brother, are ye arming thus? Is it to undertake The sending of some vent'rous Greek t' explore the foe's intent? Alas! I greatly fear, not one will give that work consent, Expos'd alone to all the fears that flow in gloomy night. He that doth this must know death well, in which ends every fright." Quite—requite, put a stop to. " Brother," said he, " in these affairs we both must use advice, Jove is against us, and accepts great Hector's sacrifice. For I have never seen, nor heard, in one day, and by one, So many high attempts well urg'd, as Hector's power hath done Against the hapless sons of Greece; being chiefly dear to Jove, And without cause, being neither fruit of any Goddess' love, Nor helpful God; and yet I fear the deepness of his hand, Ere it be 'ras'd out of our thoughts, will many years withstand. But, brother, hie thee to thy ships, and Idomen dis-ease, With warlike Ajax; I will haste to grave Neleides, Exhorting him to rise, and give the sacred watch command, For they will specially embrace incitement at his hand, And now his son their captain is, and Idomen's good friend, Bold Merion, to whose discharge we did that charge commend." " Command'st thou then," his brother ask'd, " that I shall tarry here Attending thy resolv'd approach, or else the message bear, And quickly make return to thee?" He answer'd: "Rather stay, Lest otherwise we fail to meet, for many a different way Lies through our labyrinthian host. Speak ever as you go, Command strong watch, from sire to son urge all t' observe the foe, Familiarly, and with their praise, exciting every eye, Not with unseason'd violence of proud authority. We must our patience exercise, and work ourselves with them, Jove in our births combin'd such care to either's diadem." Thus he dismiss'm'iss'd him, knowing well his charge before he went. Himself to Nestor, whom he found in bed within his tent, By him his damask curets hung, his shield, a pair of darts, His shining casque, his arming waist; in these he led the hearts Of his apt soldiers to sharp war, not yielding to his years. He quickly started from his bed, when to his watchful ears Untimely feet told some approach; he took his lance in hand, And spake to him: "Ho, what art thou that walk'st at midnight? Stand. Dis-ease—disturb, arouse. Damask—inlaid. Is any wanting at the guards? Or lack'st thou any peer? Speak, come not silent towards me; say, what intend'st thou here?" He answer'd: "O Neleides, grave honour of our host, 'Tis Agamemnon thou mayst know, whom Jove afflicteth most Of all the wretched men that live, and will, whilst any breath Gives motion to my toiled limbs, and bears me up from death. I walk the round thus, since sweet sleep cannot inclose mine eyes, Nor shut those organs care breaks ope for our calamities. My fear is vehement for the Greeks; my heart, the fount of heat, With his extreme affects made cold, without my breast doth beat; And therefore are my sinews struck with trembling; every part Of what my friends may feel hath act in my dispersed heart. But, if thou think'st of any course may to our good redound, (Since neither thou thyself canst sleep) come, walk with me the round; In way whereof we may confer, and look to every guard, Lest watching long, and weariness with labouring so hard, Drown their oppressed memories of what they have in charge. The liberty we give the foe, alas, is over large, Their camp is almost mix'd with ours, and we have forth no spies To learn their drifts; who may perchance this night intend surprise." Grave Nestor answer'd: “Worthy king, let good hearts bear our ill. Jove is not bound to perfect all this busy Hector's will; But I am confidently given, his thoughts are much dismay'd With fear, lest our distress incite Achilles to our aid, And therefore will not tempt his fate, nor ours, with further pride. But I will gladly follow thee, and stir up more beside ; Tydides, famous for his lance; Ulysses; Telamon; And bold Phyleus' valiant heir. Or else, if any one Would haste to call king Idomen, and Ajax, since their sail Lie so remov'd, with much good speed, it might our haste avail. But, though he be our honour'd friend, thy brother I will blame, Not fearing if I anger thee. It is his utter shame He should commit all pains to thee, that should himself employ, Past all our princes, in the care, and cure, of our annoy, And be so far from needing spurs to these his due respects, He should apply our spirits himself, with pray'rs and urg'd affects. Necessity (a law to laws, and not to be endur'd) Makes proof of all his faculties, not sound if not inur'd. "Good father," said the king, " sometimes you know I have desir'd You would improve his negligence, too oft to ease retir'd. Nor is it for defect of spirit, or compass of his brain, But with observing my estate, he thinks, he should abstain Till I commanded, knowing my place; unwilling to assume, For being my brother, anything might prove he did presume. But now he rose before me far, and came t' avoid delays, And I have sent him for the men yourself desir'd to raise. Come, we shall find them at the guards we plac'd before the fort, For thither my direction was they should with speed resort." " Why now," said Nestor, " none will grudge, nor his just rule withstand. Examples make excitements strong, and sweeten a command." Thus put he on his arming truss, fair shoes upon his feet, About him a mandilion, that did with buttons meet, Of purple, large, and full of folds, curl'd with a warmful nap, A garment that 'gainst cold in nights did soldiers use to wrap; Then took he his strong lance in hand, made sharp with proved steel, And went along the Grecian fleet. First at Ulysses' keel He call'd, to break the silken fumes that did his senses bind. The voice through th' organs of his ears straight rung about his mind. Improve—reprove. An unusual signification. NARES quotes two authorities. Both the folios read "man." Dr. Taylor has "men," which the context requires. Mandilion—" A loose cassock such as souldiers use to wear."-BLOUNT, GLOSSOGRAPH. From Ital. Forth came Ulysses, asking him: "Why stir ye thus so late? Sustain we such enforcive cause?" He answer'd, "Our estate Doth force this perturbation; vouchsafe it, worthy friend, And come, let us excite one more, to counsel of some end To our extremes, by fight, or flight." He back, and took his shield, And both took course to Diomed. They found him laid in field, Far from his tent; his armour by; about him was dispread A ring of soldiers, every man his shield beneath his head; His spear fix'd by him as he slept, the great end in the ground, The point, that bristled the dark earth, cast a reflection round Like pallid lightnings thrown from Jove; thus this heroë lay, And under him a big ox-hide; his royal head had stay On arras hangings, rolled up; whereon he slept so fast, That Nestor stirr'd him with his foot, and chid to see him cast In such deep sleep in such deep woes, and ask'd him why he spent All night in sleep, or did not hear the Trojans near his tent, Their camp drawn close upon their dike, small space 'twixt foes and foes? He, starting up, said, " Strange old man, that never tak'st repose, Thou art too patient of our toil. Have we not men more young, To be employ'd from king to king? Thine age hath too much wrong." " Said like a king," replied the sire, " for I have sons renown'd, And there are many other men, might go this toilsome round; But, you must see, imperious Need hath all at her command. Now on the eager razor's edge, for life or death, we stand. Then go (thou art the younger man) and if thou love my ease, Call swift-foot Ajax up thyself, and young Phyleides." This said, he on his shoulders cast a yellow lion's hide, Big, and reach'd earth, then took his spear, and Nestor's will applied, Rais'd the heroës, brought them both. All met; the round they went, And found not any captain there asleep or negligent, And there are, &c.—The second folio reads, " As there are;" and so Dr. Taylor. " ᾿Ἐπὶ ξυροῦ ἵσταται ἀκμῆς. This went into a proverb, used by Theocritus, in Dioscuris, out of Homer." -CHAPMAN. But waking, and in arms, gave ear to every lowest sound. And as keen dogs keep sheep in cotes, or folds of hurdles bound, And grin at every breach of air, envious of all that moves, Still list'ning when the ravenous beast stalks through the hilly groves, Then men and dogs stand on their guards, and mighty tumults make, Sleep wanting weight to close one wink; so did the captains wake, That kept the watch the whole sad night, all with intentive ear Converted to the enemies' tents, that they might timely hear If they were stirring to surprise; which Nestor joy'd to see. "Why so, dear sons, maintain your watch, sleep not a wink," said he, Rather than make your fames the scorn of Trojan perjury." This said, he foremost pass'd the dike, the others seconded, Even all the kings that had been call'd to counsel from the bed, And with them went Meriones, and Nestor's famous son; For both were call'd by all the kings to consultation. Beyond the dike they chose a place, near as they could from blood, Where yet appear'd the falls of some, and whence, the crimson flood Of Grec Grecian lives being pour'd on earth by Hector's furious chace, He made retreat, when night repour'd grim darkness in his face. There sat they down, and Nestor spake : "O friends, remains not one That will rely on his bold mind, and view the camp, alone, Of the proud Trojans, to approve if any straggling mate He can surprise near th' utmost tents, or learn the brief estate Of their intentions for the time, and mix like one of them With their outguards, expiscating if the renown'd extreme They force on us will serve their turns, with glory to retire, Or still encamp thus far from Troy? This may he well inquire, And make a brave retreat untouch'd; and this would win him fame Of all men canopied with heaven, and every man of name In all this host shall honour him with an enriching meed, A black ewe and her sucking lamb (rewards that now exceed Dr. Taylor, with the second folio, reads " give ear." Expiscating—inquiring into, fishing out. All other best possessions, in all men's choice requests) And still be bidden by our kings to kind and royal feasts." All reverenc'd one another's worth; and none would silence break, Lest worst should take best place of speech; at last did Diomed speak: "Nestor, thou ask'm'st if no man here have heart so well inclin'd To work this stratagem on Troy? Yes, I have such a mind. Yet, if some other prince would join, more probable would be The strengthened hope of our exploit. Two may together see (One going before another still) sly danger every way; One spirit upon another works, and takes with firmer stay The benefit of all his powers; for though one knew his course, Yet might he well distrust himself, which th' other might enforce." This offer every man assum'd; all would with Diomed go; The two Ajaces, Merion, and Menelaus too; But Nestor's son enforc'd it much, and hardy Ithacus Who had to every vent'rous deed a mind as venturous. Amongst all these thus spake the king: "Tydides, most belov'd, Choose thy associate worthily; a man the most approv'd For use and strength in these extremes. Many thou seest stand forth; But choose not thou by height of place, but by regard of worth, Lest with thy nice respect of right to any man's degree, Thou wrong'st thy venture, choosing one least fit to join with thee, Although perhaps a greater king." This spake he with suspect That Diomed, for honour's sake, his brother would select. Then said Tydides: "Since thou giv'st my judgment leave to choose, How can it so much truth forget Ulysses to refuse That bears a mind so most exempt, and vigorous in th' effect Of all high labours, and a man Pallas doth most respect? We shall return through burning fire, if I with him combine, He sets strength in so true a course with counsels so divine." Ulysses, loth to be esteem'd a lover of his praise, With such exceptions humbled him as did him higher raise, And said: "Tydides, praise me not more than free truth will bear, 220 Nor yet impair me; they are Greeks that give judicial ear. But come, the morning hastes, the stars are forward in their course, Two parts of night are past, the third is left t'employ our force." Now borrow'd they for haste some arms. Bold Thrasymedes lent Advent'rous Diomed his sword (his own was at his tent) His shield, and helm tough and well tann'd, without or plume or crest, And call'd a murrion, archers' heads it used to invest. Meriones lent Ithacus his quiver and his bow, His helmet fashion'd of a hide, the workman did bestow Much labour in it, quilting it with bow-strings, and without With snowy tusks of white-mouth'd boars 'twas armed round about Right cunningly, and in the midst an arming cap was plac'd, That with the fix'd ends of the tusks his head might not be ras'd. This, long since, by Autolycus was brought from Eleon, When he laid waste Amyntor's house, that was Ormenus' son. In Scandia, to Cytherius, surnam'm'd Amphidamas, Autolycus did give this helm; he, when he feasted was By honour'd Molus, gave it him, as present of a guest; Molus to his son Merion did make it his bequest. With this Ulysses arm'm'd his head; and thus they, both address'd, Took leave of all the other kings. To them a glad ostent, As they were ent'ring on their way, Minerva did present, A hernshaw consecrate to her, which they could ill discern Through sable night, but, by her clange, they knew it was a hern. Ulysses joy'd, and thus invok'd: “Hear me, great Seed of Jove, That ever dost my labours grace with presence of thy love, And all my motions dost attend! Still love me, sacred Dame, Especially in this exploit, and so protect our fame We both may safely make retreat, and thriftily employ Our boldness in some great affair baneful to them of Troy." Murrion—i, e. morion. Clange. See Bk. III. 5. Then pray'd illustrate Diomed : "Vouchsafe me likewise ear, O thou unconquer'd Queen of arms! Be with thy favours near, As, to my royal father's steps, thou went'st a bounteous guide, When th' Achives and the peers of Thebes he would have pacified, Sent as the Greeks' ambassador, and left them at the flood Of great Aesopus; whose retreat thou mad'st to swim in blood Of his enambush'd enemies; and, if thou so protect My bold endeavours, to thy name an heifer most select, That never yet was tam'm'd with yoke, broad-fronted, one year old, I'll burn in zealous sacrifice, and set the horns in gold." The Goddess heard; and both the kings their dreadless passage bore Through slaughter, slaughter'd carcasses, arms, and discolour'd gore. Nor Hector let his princes sleep, but all to council call'd, And ask'd, " What one is here will vow, and keep it unappall'd, To have a gift fit for his deed, a chariot and two horse, That pass for speed the rest of Greece? What one dares take this course, For his renown, besides his gifts, to mix amongst the foe, And learn if still they hold their guards, or with this overthrow Determine flight, as being too weak to hold us longer war?" All silent stood; at last stood forth one Dolon, that did dare This dangerous work, Eumedes' heir, a herald much renown'd. This Dolon did in gold and brass exceedingly abound, But in his form was quite deform'd, yet passing swift to run, Amongst five sisters, he was left Eumedes' only son. And he told Hector, his free heart would undertake t' explore The Greeks' intentions, "but," said he, " thou shalt be sworn before, By this thy sceptre, that the horse of great Aeacides, And his strong chariot bound with brass, thou wilt (before all these) Resign me as my valour's prise; and so I rest unmov'd To be thy spy, and not return before I have approv'd (By venturing to Atrides' ship, where their consults are held) If they resolve still to resist, or fly as quite expell'd.” He put his sceptre in his hand, and call'd the thunder's God, Saturnia's husband, to his oath, those horse should not be rode By any other man than he, but he for ever joy (To his renown) their services, for his good done to Troy. Thus swore he, and forswore himself, yet made base Dolon bold; Who on his shoulders hung his bow, and did about him fold A white wolf's hide, and with a helm of weasels' skins did arm His weasel's head, then took his javelin, and never turn'd to harm The Greeks with their related drifts; but being past the troops Of horse and foot, he promptly runs, and as he runs he stoops To undermine Achilles' horse. Ulysses straight did see, And said to Diomed: " This man makes footing towards thee, Out of the tents. I know not well, if he be us'd as spy Bent to our fleet, or come to rob the slaughter'd enemy. But let us suffer him to come a little further on, And then pursue him. If it chance, that we be overgone By his more swiftness, urge him still to run upon our fleet, And (lest he 'scape us to the town) still let thy javelin meet With all his offers of retreat." Thus stepp'd they from the plain Amongst the slaughter'd carcasses. Dolon came on amain, Suspecting nothing; but once past, as far as mules outdraw Oxen at plough, being both put on, neither admitted law, To plough a deep-soil'd furrow forth, so far was Dolon past. Then they pursu'd, which he perceiv'd, and stay'd his speedless haste, Subtly supposing Hector sent to countermand his spy; But, in a javelin's throw or less, he knew them enemy. Then laid he on his nimble knees, and they pursu'd like wind. As when a brace of greyhounds are laid in with hare or hind, Close-mouth'd and skill'd to make the best of their industrious course, Serve either's turn, and, set on hard, lose neither ground nor force; Related drifts—i. e. never returned to harm the Greeks by a relation of their designs. İnfrà, line 332. So constantly did Tydeus' son, and his town-razing peer, Pursue this spy, still turning him, as he was winding near His covert, till he almost mix'd with their out-courts of guard. Then Pallas prompted Diomed, lest his due worth's reward Should be impair'd if any man did vaunt he first did sheath His sword in him, and he be call'd but second in his death. Then spake he, threat'ning with his lance: "Or stay, or this comes on, And long thou canst not run before thou be by death outgone." This said, he threw his javelin forth; which miss'd as Diomed would, Above his right arm making way, the pile stuck in the mould. He stay'd and trembled, and his teeth did chatter in his head. They came in blowing, seiz'd him fast; he, weeping, offered A wealthy ransom for his life, and told them he had brass, Much gold, and iron, that fit for use in many labours was, From whose rich heaps his father would a wondrous portion give, If, at the great Achaian fleet, he heard his son did live. Ulysses bad him cheer his heart. "Think not of death," said he, "But tell us true, why run'st thou forth when others sleeping be? 330 Is it to spoil the carcasses? Or art thou choicely sent T' explore our drifts? Or of thyself seek'st thou some wish'd event?" He trembling answer'd: "Much reward did Hector's oath propose, And urg'd me, much against my will, t' endeavour to disclose If you determin'd still to stay, or bent your course for flight, As all dismay'd with your late foil, and wearied with the fight. For which exploit, Pelides' horse and chariot he did swear, I only ever should enjoy." Ulysses smil'd to hear So base a swain have any hope so high a prise t' aspire, And said, his labours did affect a great and precious hire, And that the horse Pelides rein'd no mortal hand could use But he himself, whose matchless life a Goddess did produce. " But tell us, and report but truth, where left'st thou Hector now? Where are his arms? His famous horse? On whom doth he bestow His time and councils? Where do rest the other kingly peers? Where go their rounds? Or what intentis their late fortune stirs? Sleep they, or keep they still their guards, and purpose to retire?" The watch's charge? Where sleep the kings? Intend they still to lie Thus near encamp'm'd, or turn suffic'd with their late victory?" "All this," said he, " I'll tell most true. At Ilus' monument Hector with all our princes sits, t'advise of this event, Who choose that place remov'd to shun the rude confused sounds The common soldiers throw about. But, for our watch, and rounds, Whereof, brave lord, thou mak'st demand, none orderly we keep. The Trojans, that have roofs to save, only abandon sleep, And privately without command each other they exhort To make prevention of the worst; and in this slender sort Is watch and guard maintain'd with us. Th' auxiliary bands Sleep soundly, and commit their cares into the Trojans' hands, For they have neither wives with them, nor children to protect; The less they need to care, the more they succour dull neglect." " But tell me," said wise Ithacus, " are all these foreign powers Appointed quarters by themselves, or else commix'd with yours?" " And this," said Dolon, "too, my lords, I'll seriously unfold. The Pæons with the crooked bows, and Cares, quarters hold Next to the sea, the Leleges, and Caucons, join'd with them, And brave Pelasgians. Thymber's mead, remov'd more from the stream, Is quarter to the Lycians, the lofty Mysian force, The Phrygians and Meonians, that fight with armed horse. But what need these particulars? If ye intend surprise Of any in our Trojan camps, the Thracian quarter lies Utmost of all, and uncommix'd with Trojan regiments, That keep the voluntary watch. New pitch'd are all their tents. King Rhesus, Eioneus' son, commands them, who hath steeds More white than snow, huge, and well-shap'd, their fiery pace exceeds The winds in swiftness; these I saw; his chariot is with gold And pallid silver richly fram'd, and wondrous to behold; His great and golden armour is not fit a man should wear, But for immortal shoulders fram'd. Come then, and quickly bear Your happy prisoner to your fleet; or leave him here fast bound Till your well-urg'd and rich return prove my relation sound." Tydides dreadfully replied: "Think not of passage thus, Though of right acceptable news thou hast advértis'd us, Our hands are holds more strict than so; and should we set thee free For offer'd ransom, for this 'scape thou still wouldst scouting be About our ships, or do us scathe in plain opposed arms, But, if I take thy life, no way can we repent thy harms." With this, as Dolon reach'd his hand to use a suppliant's part And stroke the beard of Diomed, he struck his neck athwart With his forc'd sword, and both the nerves he did in sunder wound, And suddenly his head, deceiv'd, fell speaking on the ground. His weasel's helm they took, his bow, his wolf's skin, and his lance, Which to Minerva Ithacus did zealously advance, With lifted arm into the air; and to her thus he spake : "Goddess, triumph in thine own spoils; to thee we first will make Our invocations, of all powers thron'd on th' Olympian hill; Now to the Thracians, and their horse, and beds, conduct us still." With this, he hung them up aloft upon a tamrick bough As eyeful trophies, and the sprigs that did about it grow He proined from the leafy arms, to make it easier view'd When they should hastily retire, and be perhaps pursu'd. Forth went they through black blood and arms, and presently aspir'd The guardless Thracian regiment, fast bound with sleep, and tir'd; Their arms lay by, and triple ranks they, as they slept, did keep, As they should watch and guard their king, who, in a fatal sleep, Lay in the midst; their chariot horse, as they coachfellows were, Fed by them; and the famous steeds, that did their general bear, Stood next him, to the hinder part of his rich chariot tied. Ulysses saw them first, and said, "Tydides, I have spied The horse that Dolon, whom we slew, assur'd us we should see. Now use thy strength; now idle arms are most unfit for thee; Prise thou the horse; or kill the guard, and leave the horse to me." Proined—plucked off, pruned. Minerva, with the azure eyes, breath'd strength into her king, Who fill'd the tent with mixed death. The souls, he set on wing, Issued in groans, and made air swell into her stormy flood. Horror and slaughter had one power; the earth did blush with blood. As when a hungry lion flies, with purpose to devour, On flocks unkept, and on their lives doth freely use his power; So Tydeus' son assail'd the foe; twelve souls before him flew; Ulysses waited on his sword, and ever as he slew, He drew them by their strengthless heels out of the horses' sight, That, when he was to lead them forth, they should not with affright Boggle, nor snore, in treading on the bloody carcasses ; For being new come, they were unus'd to such stern sights as these. Through four ranks now did Diomed the king himself attain, Who, snoring in his sweetest sleep, was like his soldiers slain. An ill dream by Minerva sent that night stood by his head, Which was Oenides' royal son, unconquer'd Diomed. Meanwhile Ulysses loos'd his horse, took all their reins in hand, And led them forth; but Tydeus' son did in contention stand With his great mind to do some deed of more audacity, If he should take the chariot, where his rich arms did lie, And draw it by the beam away, or bear it on his back, Or if, of more dull Thracian lives, he should their bosoms sack. In this contention with himself, Minerva did suggest And bade him think of his retreat, lest from their tempted rest Some other God should stir the foe, and send him back dismay'd. He knew the voice, took horse, and fled. The Trojans' heavenly aid, Apollo with the silver bow, stood no blind sentinel To their secure and drowsy host, but did discover well Minerva following Diomed; and, angry with his act, The mighty host of Ilion he ent'red, and awak'd The cousin german of the king, a counsellor of Thrace, Hippocoon; who when he rose, and saw the desert place, Tempted—tried. Where Rhesus' horse did use to stand, and th' other dismal harms, Men struggling with the pangs of death, he shriek'd out thick alarms, Call'd "Rhesus! Rhesus!" but in vain; then still, "Arm! Arm!" he cried. The noise and tumult was extreme on every startled side Of Troy's huge host; from whence in throngs all gather'd, and admir'd Who could perform such harmful facts, and yet be safe retir'd. Now, coming where they slew the scout, Ulysses stay'd the steeds, Tydides lighted, and the spoils, hung on the tamrick reeds, He took and gave to Ithacus, and up he got again. Then flew they joyful to their fleet. Nestor did first attain The sounds the horse-hoofs struck through air, and said: " My royal peers! Do I but dote, or say I true? Methinks about mine ears The sounds of running horses beat. O would to God they were Our friends thus soon return'd with spoils! But I have hearty fear, Lest this high tumult of the foe doth their distress intend." He scarce had spoke, when they were come. Both did from horse descend. All, with embraces and sweet words, to heaven their worth did raise. Then Nestor spake : "Great Ithacus, even heap'd with Grecian praise, How have you made these horse your prise? Pierc'd you the dangerous host, Where such gems stand? Or did some God your high attempts accost, And honour'd you with this reward? Why, they be like the rays The sun effuseth. I have mix'd with Trojans all my days; And now, I hope you will not say, I always lie aboard, Though an old soldier I confess; yet did all Troy afford Never the like to any sense that ever I possess'd. But some good God, no doubt, hath met, and your high valours bless'd, Aboard. Dr. Taylor has printed "abord," and ridiculously says, " abord, readily; from the French." Had he consulted the original, or given one moment's thought, he would have seen what the true word was. Nestor says, "І have mixed with Trojans all my days, and now, though I confess I am an old man, I hope you will not say I always lie aboard, remain on board ship, and avoid the battle." For He that shadows heaven with clouds loves both as his delights, And She that supples earth with blood cannot forbear your sights." Ulysses answer'd: "Honour'd sire, the willing Gods can give Horse much more worth than these men yield, since in more power they live. These horse are of the Thracian breed; their king Tydides slew, And twelve of his most trusted guard, and of that meaner crew A scout for thirteenth man we kill'd, whom Hector sent to spy The whole estate of our designs, if bent to fight or fly." Thus, follow'd with whole troops of friends, they with applauses pass'd The spacious dike, and in the tent of Diomed they plac'd The horse without contention, as his deserving's meed, Which, with his other horse set up, on yellow wheat did feed. Poor Dolon's spoils Ulysses had; who shrin'd them on his stern, As trophies vow'd to her that sent the good-aboding hern. Then enter'd they the mere main sea, to cleanse their honour'd sweat From off their feet, their thighs and necks; and, when their vehement heat Was calm'd, and their swoln hearts refresh'd, more curious baths they us'd, Where odorous and dissolving oils they through their limbs diffus'd. Then, taking breakfast, a big bowl fill'd with the purest wine They offer'd to the Maiden Queen, that hath the azure eyne. Stern—hung them up as votive offerings on the stern of his ship. Mere—pure, unmixed. See Bk. XVII. 420.

THE ARGUMENT. ATRIDES and his other peers of name Lead forth their men; whom Eris doth inflame. Hector (by Iris' charge) takes deedless breath, Whiles Agamemnon plies the work of death, Who with the first bears his imperial head. Himself, Ulysses, and king Diomed, Eurypylus, and Esculapius' son, (Enforc'd with wounds) the furious skirmish shun. Which martial sight when great Achilles views, A little his desire of fight renews; And forth he sends his friend, to bring him word From old Neleides, what wounded lord He in his chariot from the skirmish brought; Which was Machaon. Nestor then besought He would persuade his friend to wreak their harms, Or come himself, deck'd in his dreadful arms.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT. Lambda presents the General, In fight the worthiest man of all.

AURORA out of restful bed did from bright Tithon rise. To bring each deathless Essence light, and use to mortal eyes; When Jove sent Eris to the Greeks, sustaining in her hand Stern signs of her designs for war. She took her horrid stand Upon Ulysses' huge black bark that did at anchor ride Amidst the fleet, from whence her sounds might ring on every side, Both to the tents of Telamon, and th' author of their smarts, Who held, for fortitude and force, the navy's utmost parts. The red-ey'd Goddess, seated there, thunder'd th' Orthian song, High, and with horror, through the ears of all the Grecian throng. Her verse with spirits invincible did all their breasts inspire, Blew out all darkness from their limbs, and set their hearts on fire, And presently was bitter war more sweet a thousand times Than any choice in hollow keels to greet their native climes. Atrides summon'd all to arms, to arms himself dispos'd. First on his legs he put bright greaves with silver buttons clos'closed; Then with rich curace arm'd his breast, which Cinyras bestow'd To gratify his royal guest; for even to Cyprus flow'd Th' unbounded fame of those designs the Greeks propos'd for Troy, And therefore gave he him those arms, and wish'd his purpose joy. Ten rows of azure mix'd with black, twelve golden like the sun, Twice ten of tin, in beaten paths, did through this armour run. Three serpents to the gorget crept, that like three rainbows shin'd Such as by Jove are fix'd in clouds when wonders are divin'd. About his shoulders hung his sword, whereof the hollow hilt Was fashion'd all with shining bars, exceeding richly gilt; The scabbard was of silver plate, with golden hangers grac'd. Then took he up his weighty shield, that round about him cast Defensive shadows; ten bright zones of gold-affecting brass Were driven about it, and of tin, as full of gloss as glass, Swell'd twenty bosses out of it; in centre of them all One of black metal had engraven, full of extreme appall, An ugly Gorgon, compassed with Terror and with Fear. At it a silver bawdrick hung, with which he us'd to bear, Wound on his arm, his ample shield, and in it there was woven An azure dragon, curl'd in folds, from whose one neck was cloven Author—Achilles. Both folios and Dr. Taylor have erroneously " authors." Three heads contorted in an orb. Then plac'd he on his head His four-plum'd casque; and in his hands two darts he managed, Arm'm'd with bright steel that blaz'd to heaven. Then Juno, and the Maid That conquers empires, trumpets serv'd to summon out their aid In honour of the General, and on a sable cloud, To bring them furious to the field, sat thund'ring out aloud. Then all enjoin'd their charioteers to rank their chariot horse Close to the dike. Forth march'd the foot, whose front they did r'enforce With some horse troops. The battle then was all of charioteers, Lin'd with light horse. But Jupiter disturb'd this form with fears, And from air's upper region did bloody vapours rain, For sad ostent much noble life should ere their times be slain. The Trojan host at Ilus' tomb was in battalia led By Hector and Polydamas, and old Anchises' seed Who god-like was esteem'd in Troy, by grave Antenor's race Divine Agenor, Polybus, unmarried Acamas Proportion'd like the States of heaven. In front of all the field, Troy's great Priamides did bear his all-ways-equal shield, Still plying th' ordering of his power. And as amids the sky We sometimes see an ominous star blaze clear and dreadfully, Then run his golden head in clouds, and straight appear again; So Hector otherwhiles did grace the vaunt-guard, shining plain, Then in the rear-guard hid himself, and labour'd everywhere To order and encourage all; his armour was so clear, And he applied each place so fast, that, like a lightning thrown Out of the shield of Jupiter, in every eye he shone. And as upon a rich man's crop of barley or of wheat, Oppos'd for swiftness at their work, a sort of reapers sweat, Bear down the furrows speedily, and thick their handfuls fall; So at the joining of the hosts ran slaughter through them all, Opposed—standing opposite to one another for expedition's sake. Sort—set. See Bk. IV. 460. None stoop'd to any fainting thought of foul inglorious flight, But equal bore they up their heads, and far'd like wolves in fight. Stern Eris, with such weeping sights, rejoic'd to feed her eyes, Who only show'd herself in field of all the Deities; The other in Olympus' tops sat silent, and repin'd That Jove to do the Trojans grace should bear so fix'd a mind. He car'd not, but, enthron'd apart, triumphant sat in sway Of his free power, and from his seat took pleasure to display The city so adorn'd with tow'rs, the sea with vessels fill'd, The splendour of refulgent arms, the killer and the kill'd. As long as bright Aurora rul'd, and sacred day increas'd, So long their darts made mutual wounds, and neither had the best; But when in hill-environ'd vales the timber-feller takes A sharp set stomach to his meat, and dinner ready makes, His sinews fainting, and his spirits become surcharg'd and dull, Time of accustom'd ease arriv'd, his hands with labour full, Then by their valours Greeks brake through the Trojan ranks, and cheer'd Their general squadrons through the host, then first of all appear'd The person of the king himself, and then the Trojans lost Bianor by his royal charge, a leader in the host. Who being slain, his charioteer, Oileus, did alight, And stood in skirmish with the king; the king did deadly smite His forehead with his eager lance, and through his helm it ran, Enforcing passage to his brain quite through the hard'ned pan, His brain mix'd with his clotter'd blood, his body strew'd the ground. There left he them, and presently he other objects found; Isus and Antiphus, two sons king Priam did beget, One lawful, th' other wantonly. Both in one chariot met Their royal foe; the baser born, Isus, was charioteer, And famous Antiphus did fight; both which king Peleus' heir, Display—behold, view. A rare sense. See Bk. XVII. 90. Pan—skull, brain-pan. Whilome in Ida keeping flocks, did deprehend and bind With pliant osiers, and, for price, them to their sire resign'd. Atrides with his well-aim'd lance smote Isus on the breast Above the nipple; and his sword a mortal wound impress'd Beneath the ear of Antiphus; down from their horse they fell. The king had seen the youths before, and now did know them well, Rememb'ring them the prisoners of swift Aeacides, Who brought them to the sable fleet from Ida's foody leas. And as a lion having found the furrow of a hind, Where she hath calv'd two little twins, at will and ease doth grind Their joints snatch'd in his solid jaws, and crusheth into mist Their tender lives; their dam, though near, not able to resist, But shook with vehement fear herself, flies through the oaken chace From that fell savage, drown'd in sweat, and seeks some covert place; So when with most unmatched strength the Grecian General bent 'Gainst these two princes, none durst aid their native king's descent, But fled themselves before the Greeks. And where these two were slain, Pisander and Hippolochus, not able to restrain Their headstrong horse, the silken reins being from their hands let fall, Were brought by their unruly guides before the General. Antimachus begat them both, Antimachus that took Rich gifts, and gold, of Helen's love, and would by no means brook Just restitution should be made of Menelaus' wealth, Bereft him, with his ravish'd queen, by Alexander's stealth. Atrides, lion-like, did charge his sons, who on their knees Fell from their chariot, and besought regard to their degrees, Who, being Antimachus's sons, their father would afford A. worthy ransom for their lives, who in his house did hoard Much hidden treasure, brass, and gold, and steel, wrought wondrous choice. Thus wept they, using smoothing terms, and heard this rugged voice Foody leas—fertile, fruitful, meads. The word occurs again Bk. XV. 638. Helen's love—Paris. Breath'd from the unrelenting king: "If you be of the breed Of stout Antimachus, that stay'd the honourable deed The other peers of Ilion in counsel had decreed, To render Helen and her wealth, and would have basely slain My brother and wise Ithacus, ambassadors t' attain The most due motion, now receive wreak for his shameful part." This said, in poor Pisander's breast he fix'd his wreakful dart, Who upward spread th' oppressed earth; his brother crouch'd for dread, And, as he lay, the angry king cut off his arms and head, And let him like a football lie for every man to spurn. Then to th' extremest heat of fight he did his valour turn, And led a multitude of Greeks, where foot did foot subdue, Horse slaughter'd horse, Need feather'd flight, the batter'd centre flew In clouds of dust about their ears, rais'd from the horses' hooves, That beat a thunder out of earth as horrible as Jove's. The king, persuading speedy chace, gave his persuasions way With his own valour, slaught'ring still, as in a stormy day In thick-set woods a ravenous fire wraps in his fierce repair The shaken trees, and by the roots doth toss them into air; Even so beneath Atrides' sword flew up Troy's flying heels, Their horse drew empty chariots, and sought their thund'ring wheels Some fresh directors through the field, where least the pursuit drives. Thick fell the Trojans, much more sweet to vultures than their wives. Then Jove drew Hector from the darts, from dust, from death and blood, And from the tumult. Still the king firm to the pursuit stood, Till at old Ilus' monument, in midst of all the field, They reach'd the wild fig-tree, and long'd to make their town their shield. Yet there they rested not; the king still cried, 'Pursue! Pursue!' And all his unreproved hands did blood and dust imbrue. But when they came to Scæa's ports, and to the beech of Jove, There made they stand; there every eye, fix'd on each other, strove Directors. The second folio erroneously prints "directions," which has been adopted by Dr. Taylor. Who should outlook his mate amaz'd; through all the field they fled. And as a lion, when the night becomes most deaf and dead, Invades ox herds, affrighting all, that he of one may wreak His dreadful hunger, and his neck he first of all doth break, Then laps his blood and entrails up; so Agamemnon plied The manage of the Trojan chace, and still the last man died, The other fled, a number fell by his imperial hand, Some grovelling downwardsfromtheir horse, some upwardsstrew'dthesand. High was the fury of his lance. But, having beat them close Beneath their walls, the both worlds' Sire did now again repose On fountain-flowing Ida's tops, being newly slid from heaven, And held a lightning in his hand; from thence this charge was given To Iris with the golden wings: "Thaumantia, fly," said he, " And tell Troy's Hector, that as long as he enrag'm'd shall see The soldier-loving Atreus' son amongst the foremost fight, Depopulating troops of men, so long he must excite Some other to resist the foe, and he no arms advance; But when he wounded takes his horse, attain'd with shaft or lance, Then will I fill his arm with death, even till he reach the fleet, And peaceful night treads busy day beneath her sacred feet." The wind-foot swift Thaumantia obey'd, and us'd her wings To famous Ilion from the mount enchas'd with silver springs, And found in his bright chariot the hardy Trojan knight, To whom she spake the words of Jove, and vanish'd from his sight. He leapt upon the sounding earth, and shook his lengthful dart, And everywhere he breath'd exhorts, and stirr'd up every heart. A dreadful fight he set on foot. His soldiers straight turn'd head. The Greeks stood firm. In both the hosts the field was perfected. But Agamemnon foremost still did all his side exceed, And would not be the first in name unless the first in deed. This charge. The second folio, followed by Dr. Taylor, reads "his charge." Attain'd—touched, hit. Infrà, line 512, we have "attainted." See note on Bk. III. 374. Now sing, fair Presidents of verse, that in the heavens embow'r, Who first encounter'd with the king, of all the adverse pow'r. Iphidamas, Antenor's son, ample and bigly set, Brought up in pasture-springing Thrace that doth soft sheep beget, In grave Cissëus' noble house, that was his mother's sire, Fair Theano; and when his breast was height'ned with the fire Of gaysome youth, his grandsire gave his daughter to his love. Who straight his bridal-chamber left. Fame with affection strove, And made him furnish twelve fair ships to lend fair Troy his hand. His ships he in Percope left, and came to Troy by land. And now he tried the fame of Greece, encount'ring with the king, Who threw his royal lance and miss'd. Iphidamas did fling, And struck him on the arming waist, beneath his coat of brass, Which forc'd him stay upon his arm, so violent it was, Yet pierc'd it not his well-wrought zone, but when the lazy head Tried hardness with his silver waist, it turn'm'd again like lead. He follow'd, grasping the ground end, but with a lion's wile That wrests away a hunter's staff, he caught it by the pile, And pluck'd it from the caster's hand, whom with his sword he strook Beneath the ear, and with his wound his timeless death he took. He fell and slept an iron sleep; wretched young man, he died, Far from his newly-married wife, in aid of foreign pride, And saw no pleasure of his love; yet was her jointure great, An hundred oxen gave he her, and vow'd in his retreat Two thousand head of sheep and goats, of which he store did leave. Much gave he of his love's first-fruits, and nothing did receive. When Coon (one that for his form might feast an amorous eye, And elder brother of the slain) beheld his tragedy, Deep sorrow sat upon his eyes, and (standing laterally, And to the General undiscern'd) his javelin he let fly, That 'twixt his elbow and his wrist transfix'd his armless arm; The bright head shin'd on th' other side. The unexpected harm Timeless. — See Bk. VI. 349. His. Both folios have "this;" the older copies "his.” Impress'd some horror in the king; yet so he ceas'd not fight, But rush'd on Coon with his lance, who made what haste he might, Seizing his slaughter'd brother's foot, to draw him from the field, And call'd the ablest to his aid, when under his round shield The king's brass javelin, as he drew, did strike him helpless dead; Who made Iphidamas the block, and cut off Coon's head. Thus under great Atrides' arm Antenor's issue thriv'd, And, to suffice precisest fate, to Pluto's mansion div'd. He with his lance, sword, mighty stones, pour'd his heroic wreak On other squadrons of the foe, whiles yet warm blood did break Through his cleft veins; but when the wound was quite exhaust and crude, The eager anguish did approve his princely fortitude. As when most sharp and bitter pangs distract a labouring dame, Which the divine Ilithyæ, that rule the painful frame Of human child-birth, pour on her; th' Ilithyæ that are The daughters of Saturnia; with whose extreme repair The woman in her travail strives to take the worst it gives, With thought it must be, 'tis love's fruit, the end for which she lives, The mean to make herself new born, what comforts will redound; So Agamemnon did sustain the torment of his wound. Then took he chariot, and to fleet bad haste his charioteer, But first pour'd out his highest voice to purchase every ear : "Princes and leaders of the Greeks, brave friends, now from our fleet Do you expel this boist'rous sway. Jove will not let me meet Illustrate Hector, nor give leave that I shall end the day In fight against the Ilion power; my wound is in my way." This said, his ready charioteer did scourge his spriteful horse, That freely to the sable fleet perform'd their fiery course, To bear their wounded sovereign apart the martial thrust, Sprinkling their powerful breasts with foam, and snowing on the dust. Eager.— "It is a nipping and an eager air." - SHAKESPEARE. Hamlet. I. 4. Approve—try. When Hector heard of his retreat, thus he for fame contends: "Trojans, Dardanians, Lycians, all my close-fighting friends, Think what it is to be renown'd, be soldiers all of name, Our strongest enemy is gone, Jove vows to do us fame, Then in the Grecian faces drive your one-hoof'd violent steeds, And far above their best be best, and glorify your deeds." Thus as a dog-given hunter sets upon a brace of boars His white-tooth'd hounds, puffs, shouts, breathes terms, and on his em-prese pours All his wild art to make them pinch; so Hector urg'd his host To charge the Greeks, and, he himself most bold and active most, He brake into the heat of fight, as when a tempest raves, Stoops from the clouds, and all on heaps doth cuff the purple waves. Who then was first, and last, he kill'd, when Jove did grace his deed? Assæus, and Autonous, Opys, and Clytus' seed Prince Dolops, and the honour'd sire of sweet Euryalus Opheltes, Agelaus next, and strong Hipponous, Orus, Aesymnus, all of name. The common soldiers fell, As when the hollow flood of air in Zephyr's cheeks doth swell, And sparseth all the gather'd clouds white Notus' power did draw, Wraps waves in waves, hurls up the froth beat with a vehement flaw; So were the common soldiers wrack'd in troops by Hector's hand. Then ruin had enforc'd such works as no Greeks could withstand, Then in their fleet they had been hous'd, had not Laertes' son Stirr'd up the spirit of Diomed, with this impression : "Tydides, what do we sustain, forgetting what we are? Stand by me, dearest in my love. 'Twere horrible impair For our two valours to endure a customary flight, To leave our navy still engag'd, and but by fits to fight." Emprese. Thus both the folios, doubtless for emprise, the contracted form of enterprise. Pinch. See Bk. V. 462. He answer'd: "I am bent to stay, and anything sustain ; But our delight to prove us men will prove but short and vain, For Jove makes Trojans instruments, and virtually then Wields arms himself. Our cross affairs are not 'twixt men and men." This said, Thymbræus with his lance he tumbled from his horse, Near his left nipple wounding him. Ulysses did enforce Fair Molion, minion to this king that Diomed subdu'd. Both sent they thence till they return'd, who now the king pursu'd And furrow'd through the thick'ned troops. As when two chased boars Turn head 'gainst kennels of bold hounds, and race way through their gores; So, turn'd from flight, the forward kings show'd Trojans backward death. Nor fled the Greeks, but by their wills, to get great Hector breath. Then took they horse and chariot from two bold city foes, Merops Percosius' mighty sons. Their father could disclose, Beyond all men, hid auguries, and would not give consent To their egression to these wars, yet wilfully they went, For Fates, that order sable death, enforc'd their tragedies. Tydides slew them with his lance, and made their arms his prise. Hypirochus, and Hippodus, Ulysses reft of light. But Jove, that out of Ida look'd, then equalis'd the fight, A Grecian for a Trojan then paid tribute to the Fates. Yet royal Diomed slew one, even in those even debates, That was of name more than the rest, Pæon's renowned son, The prince Agastrophus; his lance into his hip did run; His squire detain'd his horse apart, that hinder'd him to fly, Which he repented at his heart, yet did his feet apply His 'scape with all the speed they had alongst the foremost bands, And there his loved life dissolv'd. This Hector understands, And rush'd with clamour on the king, right soundly seconded With troops of Trojans. Which perceiv'd by famous Diomed, The deep conceit of Jove's high will stiffen'd his royal hair, Who spake to near-fought Ithacus: "The fate of this affair Show'd Trojans, &c. i. e. as they retreated slew the Trojans. Is bent to us. Come let us stand, and bound his violence." Thus threw he his long javelin forth, which smote his head's defence Full on the top, yet pierc'd no skin; brass took repulse with brass; His helm (with three folds made, and sharp) the gift of Phœbus was. The blow made Hector take the troop, sunk him upon his hand, And struck him blind. The king pursu'd before the foremost band His dart's recovery, which he found laid on the purple plain; By which time Hector was reviv'd, and, taking horse again, Was far commix'm'ix'd within his strength, and fled his darksome grave. He follow'd with his trusty lance, and this elusive brave: "Once more be thankful to thy heels, proud dog, for thy escape. Mischief sat near thy bosom now; and now another rape Hath thy Apollo made of thee, to whom thou well mayst pray, When through the singing of our darts thou find'st such guarded way. But I shall meet with thee at length, and bring thy latest hour, If with like favour any God be fautour of my pow'r. Meanwhile some other shall repay what I suspend in thee." This said, he set the wretched soul of Pæon's issue free, Whom his late wound not fully slew. But Priam's amorous birth Against Tydides bent his bow, hid with a hill of earth, Part of the ruinated tomb for honour'd Ilus built, And as the curace of the slain, engraven and richly gilt, Tydides from his breast had spoil'd, and from his shoulders raft His target and his solid helm, he shot, and his keen shaft (That never flew from him in vain) did nail unto the ground The king's right foot; the spleenful knight laugh'd sweetly at the wound, Crept from his covert, and triumph'd: "Now art thou maim'm'd," said he, "And would to God my happy hand had so much honour'd me To have infix'd it in thy breast as deep as in thy foot, Even to th' expulsure of thy soul! Then blest had been my shoot Fautour. See Bk. I. 441, XV. 399. Priam's amorous birth—Paris. The second folio, followed as usual by Dr. Taylor, reads " nail upon the ground." Of all the Trojans; who had then breath'd from their long unrests, Who fear thee, as the braying goats abhor the king of beasts." Undaunted Diomed replied: "You braver with your bow, You slick-hair'd lover, you that hunt and fleer at wenches so, Durst thou but stand in arms with me, thy silly archery Would give thee little cause to vaunt. As little suffer I In this same tall exploit of thine, perform'd when thou wert hid, As if a woman, or a child that knew not what it did, Had touch'd my foot. A coward's steel hath never any edge. But mine, t' assure it sharp, still lays dead carcasses in pledge; Touch it, it renders lifeless straight, it strikes the fingers' ends Of hapless widows in their cheeks, and children blind of friends. The subject of it makes earth red, and air with sighs inflames, And leaves limbs more embrac'd with birds than with enamour'd dames." Lance-fam'd Ulysses now came in, and stept before the king, Kneel'd opposite, and drew the shaft. The eager pain did sting Through all his body. Straight he took his royal chariot there, And with direction to the fleet did charge his charioteer. Now was Ulysses desolate, fear made no friend remain, He thus spake to his mighty mind: "What doth my state sustain ? If I should fly this odds in fear, that thus comes clust'ring on, '"Twere high dishonour; yet 'twere worse to be surpris'd alone. Tis Jove that drives the rest to flight; but that's a faint excuse. Why do I tempt my mind so much? Pale cowards fight refuse. He that affects renown in war must like a rock be fix'd, Wound, or be wounded. Valour's truth puts no respect betwixt." In this contention with himself, in flew the shady bands Of targeteers, who sieg'd him round with mischief-filled hands. As when a crew of gallants watch the wild muse of a boar, Their dogs put after in full cry, he rusheth on before, Muse—haunt of an animal. The word seems to have been applied more especially to the "run" of a hare. Whets, with his lather-making jaws, his crooked tusks for blood, And, holding firm his usual haunts, breaks through the deep'ned wood, They charging, though his hot approach be never so abhorr'd; So, to assail the Jove-lov'd Greek, the Ilians did accord, And he made through them. First he hurt, upon his shoulder blade, Deiops, a blameless man at arms; then sent to endless shade Thoon and Eunomus; and struck the strong Chersidamas, As from his chariot he leap'd down, beneath his targe of brass, Who fell, and crawl'd upon the earth with his sustaining palms, And left the fight. Nor yet his lance left dealing martial alms, But Socus' brother by both sides, young Carops, did impress. Then princely Socus to his aid made brotherly access, And, coming near, spake in his charge : "O great Laertes' son, Insatiate in sly stratagems, and labours never done, This hour, or thou shalt boast to kill the two Hippasides And prise their arms, or fall thyself in my resolv'd access." This said, he threw quite through his shield his fell and well-driven lance, Which held way through his curaces, and on his ribs did glance, Plowing the flesh alongst his sides; but Pallas did repel All inward passage to his life. Ulysses, knowing well The wound undeadly (setting back his foot to form his stand) Thus spake to Socus: "O thou wretch, thy death is in this hand, That stay'st my victory on Troy, and where thy charge was made In doubtful terms (or this or that) this shall thy life invade." This frighted Socus to retreat, and, in his faint reverse, The lance betwixt his shoulders fell, and through his breast did perse, Down fell he sounding, and the king thus play'd with his mis-ease : "O Socus, you that make by birth the two Hippasides, Now may your house and you perceive death can outfly the flyer. Ah wretch! thou canst not 'scape my vows. Old Hippasus thy sire, Perse—pierce; probably so printed merely to suit the rhyme. Nor thy well-honour'd mother's hands, in both which lies thy worth, Shall close thy wretched eyes in death, but vultures dig them forth, And hide them with their darksome wings; but when Ulysses dies, Divinest Greeks shall tomb my corse with all their obsequies." Now from his body and his shield the violent lance he drew, That princely Socus had infix'd; which drawn, a crimson dew Fell from his bosom on the earth; the wound did dare him sore. And when the furious Trojans saw Ulysses' forced gore, Encouraging themselves in gross, all his destruction vow'd. Then he retir'd, and summon'd aid. Thrice shouted he aloud, As did denote a man engag'd. Thrice Menelaus' ear Observ'd his aid-suggesting voice, and Ajax being near, He told him of Ulysses' shouts, as if he were enclos'd From all assistance, and advis'd their aids might be dispos'd Against the ring that circled him, lest, charg'd with troops alone, (Though valiant) he might be oppress'd, whom Greece so built upon. He led, and Ajax seconded. They found their Jove-lov'd king Circled with foes. As when a den of bloody lucerns cling About a goodly-palmed hart, hurt with a hunter's bow, Whose 'scape his nimble feet enforce, whilst his warm blood doth flow, And his light knees have power to move; but, mast'red of his wound, Emboss'd within a shady hill, the lucerns charge him round, And tear his flesh; when instantly fortune sends in the pow'rs Of some stern lion, with whose sight they fly, and he devours ; So charg'd the Ilians Ithacus, many and mighty men. But then made Menelaus in, and horrid Ajax then, Lucerns. The original is θῶες, wolves, or jackalls. The term "lucern" is used by Chapman in his " Bussy d'Ambois" (Act III.) for a sort of hunting dog. Beaumont and Fletcher apply it to an animal whose fur was much valued, " the rich-skinned lucerne," (Beggar's Bush, III. 3). Some writers have described it as the lynx. Others (Minshew and Blount) say it was " a beast almost as big as a wolf, breeding in Muscovia and Russia, of colour between red and brown, mingled with black spots; its skin is a very rich fur." The etymology seems uncertain. Emboss'd. - See Bk. IV. 258. Bearing a target like a tower, close was his violent stand, And every way the foe dispers'd; when, by the royal hand, Kind Menelaus led away the hurt Laertes' son, Till his fair squire had brought his horse. Victorious Telamon Still plied the foe, and put to sword a young Priamides, Doryclus, Priam's bastard son; then did his lance impress Pandocus, and strong Pirasus, Lysander and Palertes. As when a torrent from the hills, swoln with Saturnian show'rs, Falls on the fields, bears blasted oaks and wither'd rosin flow'rs, Loose weeds, and all dispersed filth, into the ocean's force; So matchless Ajax beat the field, and slaughter'd men and horse. Yet had not Hector heard of this, who fought on the left wing Of all the host, near those sweet herbs Scamander's flood doth spring, Where many foreheads trode the ground, and where the skirmish burn'd Near Nestor and king Idomen, where Hector overturn'd The Grecian squadrons, authoring high service with his lance, And skilful manage of his horse. Nor yet the discrepance He made in death betwixt the hosts had made the Greeks retire, If fair-hair'd Helen's second spouse had not regress'd the fire Of bold Machaon's fortitude, who with a three-fork'd head In his right shoulder wounded him. Then had the Grecians dread, Lest, in his strength declin'd, the foe should slaughter their hurt friend. Then Crete's king urg'd Neleides his chariot to ascend, And getting near him, take him in, and bear him to their tents. A surgeon is to be preferr'd, with physic ornaments, Before a multitude; his life gives hurt lives native bounds With sweet inspersion of fit balms, and perfect search of wounds. Thus spake the royal Idomen. Neleides obey'd, And to his chariot presently the wounded Greek convey'd Rosin flow'rs.—Dr. Taylor has printed "withered rosy flow'rs." Had he known the original, he would have found no necessity for altering the reading of both folios. Homer speaks of the river bearing down in its course " many withered oaks and fir trees;" which latter Chapman has translated "rosin flowers." The son of Esculapius, the great physician. To fleet they flew. Cebriones perceiv'd the slaughter done By Ajax on the other troops, and spake to Hector thus : "Whiles we encounter Grecians here, stern Telamonius Is yonder raging, turning up in heaps our horse and men; I know him by his spacious shield. Let us turn chariot then Where both of horse and foot the fight most hotly is propos'd, In mutual slaughters. Hark, their throats from cries are never clos'd." This said, with his shrill scourge he struck the horse, that fast ensu'd Stung with his lashes, tossing shields, and carcasses imbru'd. The chariot tree was drown'd in blood, and th' arches by the seat Dispurpled from the horses' hoofs, and from the wheelbands beat. Great Hector long'd to break the ranks and startle their close fight, Who horribly amaz'd the Greeks, and plied their sudden fright With busy weapons, ever wing'd; his lance, sword, weighty stones. Yet charg'd he other leaders' bands not dreadful Telamon's, With whom he wisely shunn'd foul blows. But Jove (that weighs above All human pow'rs) to Ajax' breast divine repressions drove, And made him shun who shunn'd himself; he ceas'd from fight amaz'd, Cast on his back his seven-fold shield, and round about him gaz'd Like one turn'd wild, look'd on himself in his distract retreat, Knee before knee did scarcely move. As when from herds of neat Whole threaves of boors and mongrels chase a lion skulking near, Loth he should taint the well-priz'd fat of any stall-fed steer, Consuming all the night in watch, he, greedy of his prey, Oft thrusting on is oft thrust off, so thick the javelins play Threaves—properly a "number of sheaves of corn;" in which sense the word is still in use in the Northern Counties. Metaphorically applied to a collection of any objects. Taint. See suprà, line 175. On his bold charges, and so hot the burning fire-brands shine, Which he, though horrible, abhors, about his glowing eyne, And early his great heart retires; so Ajax from the foe, For fear their fleet should be inflam'd, 'gainst his swoln heart did go. As when a dull mill ass comes near a goodly field of corn Kept from the birds by children's cries, the boys are overborne By his insensible approach, and simply he will eat, About whom many wands are broke, and still the children beat, And still the self-providing ass doth with their weakness bear, Not stirring till his paunch be full, and scarcely then will steer ; So the huge son of Telamon amongst the Trojans far'd, Bore showers of darts upon his shield, yet scorn'd to fly as scar'd, And so kept softly on his way; nor would he mend his pace For all their violent pursuits that still did arm the chase With singing lances. But, at last, when their cur-like presumes More urg'd the more forborne, his spirits did rarify their fumes, And he revok'd his active strength, turn'd head, and did repel The horse troops that were new made in, 'twixt whom the fight grew fell, And by degrees he stole retreat, yet with such puissant stay That none could pass him to the fleet. In both the armies' sway He stood, and from strong hands receiv'd sharp javelins on his shield, Where many stuck, thrown on before, many fell short in field, Ere the white body they could reach, and stuck, as telling how They purpos'd to have pierc'd his flesh. His peril pierced now The eyes of prince Eurypylus, Evemon's famous son, Who came close on, and with his dart struck duke Apisaon, Whose surname was Phausiades, even to the concrete blood That makes the liver; on the earth out gush'd his vital flood. Eurypylus made in, and eas'd his shoulders of his arms; Which Paris seeing, he drew his bow, and wreak'd in part the harms Rarify—the second folio reads " ratify;" and so Dr. Taylor. Vital flood.—Both the folios have "blood;" the older editions however have " flood." Of his good friend Phausiades, his arrow he let fly That smote Eurypylus, and brake in his attainted thigh; Then took he troop to shadow black death, and to the flyers cried : "Princes, and leaders of the Greeks, stand, and repulse the tide Of this our honour-wracking chase. Ajax is drown'd in darts, I fear past 'scape; turn, honour'd friends, help out his vent'rous parts." Thus spake the wounded Greek; the sound cast on their backstheirshields, And rais'd their darts; to whose relief Ajax his person wields. Then stood he firmly with his friends, retiring their retire. And thus both hosts indifferent join'd, the fight grew hot as fire. Now had Neleides' sweating steeds brought him, and his hurt friend, Amongst their fleet. Aeacides, that wishly did intend, Standing astern his tall-neck'd ship, how deep the skirmish drew Amongst the Greeks, and with what ruth the insecution grew, Saw Nestor bring Machaon hurt, and from within did call His friend Patroclus, who, like Mars in form celestial, Came forth with first sound of his voice, first spring of his decay, And ask'd his princely friend's desire. "Dear friend," said he, " this day I doubt not will enforce the Greeks to swarm about my knees; I see unsuffer'd need employ'd in their extremities. Go, sweet Patroclus, and inquire of old Neleides Whom he brought wounded from the fight; by his back parts I guess It is Machaon, but his face I could not well descry, They pass'd me in such earnest speed." Patroclus presently Obey'd his friend, and ran to know. They now descended were, And Nestor's squire, Eurymedon, the horses did ungear; Attainted. See suprà, line 175. Wishly intend—anxiously regard, watch. Insecution—pursuit. Latin. First spring of his decay—first dawning of his approaching fate. Themselves stood near th' extremest shore to let the gentle air Dry up their sweat; then to the tent, where Hecamed the fair Set chairs, and for the wounded prince a potion did prepare. This Hecamed, by war's hard fate, fell to old Nestor's share, When Thetis' son sack'd Tenedos; she was the princely seed Of worthy king Arsinous, and by the Greeks decreed The prise of Nestor, since all men in counsel he surpass'd. First, a fair table she appos'd, of which the feet were grac'd With bluish metal mix'd with black; and on the same she put A brass fruit dish, in which she serv'd a wholesome onion cut For pittance to the potion, and honey newly wrought, And bread, the fruit of sacred meal. Then to the board she brought A right fair cup with gold studs driven, which Nestor did transfer From Pylos; on whose swelling sides four handles fixed were, And upon every handle sat a pair of doves of gold, Some billing, and some pecking meat; two gilt feet did uphold The antique body; and withal so weighty was the cup That, being propos'd brimful of wine, one scarce could lift it up, Yet Nestor drunk in it with ease, spite of his years' respect. In this the goddess-like fair dame a potion did confect With good old wine of Pramnius, and scrap'd into the wine Cheese made of goat's milk, and on it 'spers'd flour exceeding fine. In this sort for the wounded lord the potion she prepar'd, And bad him drink. For company, with him old Nestor shar'd. Thus physically quench'd they thirst, and then their spirits reviv'd With pleasant conference. And now Patroclus, being arriv'd, Made stay at th' entry of the tent. Old Nestor, seeing it, Rose, and receiv'd him by the hand, and fain would have him sit. He set that courtesy aside, excusing it with haste, Since his much-to-be-reverenced friend sent him to know who past, Wounded with him in chariot, so swiftly through the shore; " Whom now," said he, " I see and know, and now can stay no more; Proposed—held forth, set before (Lat. proponere). See Bk. I. 14. You know, good father, our great friend is apt to take offence, Whose fiery temper will inflame sometimes with innocence." He answer'd: "When will Peleus' son some royal pity show On his thus wounded countrymen? Ah! is he yet to know How much affliction tires our host? How our especial aid, Tainted with lances, at their tents are miserably laid? Ulysses, Diomed, our king, Eurypylus, Machaon, All hurt, and all our worthiest friends; yet no compassion Can supple thy friend's friendless breast! Doth he reserve his eye Till our fleet burn, and we ourselves one after other die? Alas, my forces are not now as in my younger life. Oh would to God I had that strength I used in the strife Betwixt us and the Elians, for oxen to be driven, When Itymonius' lofty soul was by my valour given As sacrifice to destiny, Hypirochus' strong son, That dwelt in Elis, and fought first in our contention ! We foraged, as proclaimed foes, a wondrous wealthy boot, And he, in rescue of his herds, fell breathless at my foot. All the dorp boors with terror fled. Our prey was rich and great ; Twice five and twenty flocks of sheep; as many herds of neat ; As many goats, and nasty swine; an hundred fifty mares, All sorrel, most with sucking foals. And these soon-monied wares We drave into Neleius' town, fair Pylos, all by night. My father's heart was glad to see so much good fortune quite The forward mind of his young son, that us'd my youth in deeds, And would not smother it in moods. Now drew the Sun's bright steeds Light from the hills; our heralds now accited all that were Endamag'd by the Elians; our princes did appear; Our boot was parted; many men th' Epeians much did owe, That, being our neighbours, they did spoil; afflictions did so flow On us poor Pylians though but few. In brake great Hercules To our sad confines of late years, and wholly did suppress Dorp—village, Anglo-Sax. Accited—summoned, roused. Our hapless princes. Twice six sons renown'd Neleius bred, Only myself am left of all, the rest subdued and dead. And this was it that made so proud the base Epeian bands, On their near neighbours, being oppress'd, to lay injurious hands. A herd of oxen for himself, a mighty flock of sheep, My sire selected, and made choice of shepherds for their keep; And from the general spoil he cull'd three hundred of the best. The Elians ought him infinite, most plagued of all the rest. Four wager-winning horse he lost, and chariots intervented, Being led to an appointed race; the prize that was presented Was a religious three-foot urn; Augeas was the king That did detain them, and dismiss'd their keeper sorrowing For his lov'd charge lost with foul words. Then both for words and deeds My sire being worthily incens'd, thus justly he proceeds To satisfaction, in first choice of all our wealthy prise; And, as he shar'd much, much he left his subjects to suffice, That none might be oppress'd with power, or want his portion due. Thus for the public good we shar'd. Then we to temples drew Our complete city, and to heaven we thankful rights did burn For our rich conquest. The third day ensuing our return The Elians flew on us in heaps; their general leaders were The two Moliones, two boys, untrained in the fear Of horrid war, or use of strength. A certain city shines Upon a lofty prominent, and in th' extreme confines Of sandy Pylos, seated where Alpheus' flood doth run, And call'd Thryessa; this they sieg'd, and gladly would have won, But, having pass'd through all our fields, Minerva as our spy Fell from Olympus in the night, and arm'd us instantly; Nor muster'd she unwilling men, nor unprepar'd for force. My sire yet would not let me arm, but hid away my horse, Esteeming me no soldier yet; yet shin'd I nothing less Amongst our gallants, though on foot; Minerva's mightiness Ought—owed. Led me to fight, and made me bear a soldier's worthy name. There is a flood falls into sea, and his crook'd course doth frame Close to Arena, and is call'd bright Minyæus' stream. There made we halt, and there the sun cast many a glorious beam On our bright armours, horse and foot insea'd together there. Then march'd we on. By fiery noon we saw the sacred clear Of great Alphæus, where to Jove we did fair sacrifice; And to the azure God, that rules the under-liquid skies, We offer'd up a solemn bull; a bull t' Alphæus' name; And to the blue-ey'd Maid we burn'd a heifer never tame. Now was it night; we supp'd and slept, about the flood, in arms. The foe laid hard siege to our town, and shook it with alarms, But, for prevention of their spleens, a mighty work of war Appear'd behind them; for as soon as Phœbus' fiery car Cast night's foul darkness from his wheels (invoking reverend Jove, And the unconquer'd Maid his birth) we did th' event approve, And gave them battle. First of all, I slew (the army saw) The mighty soldier Mulius, Augeas' son-in-law, And spoil'd him of his one-hoof'd horse; his eldest daughter was Bright Agamede, that for skill in simples did surpass, And knew as many kind of drugs as earth's broad centre bred. Him charg'd I with my brass-arm'd lance, the dust receiv'd him dead. I, leaping to his chariot, amongst the foremost press'd, And the great hearted Elians fled frighted, seeing their best And loftiest soldier taken down, the general of their horse. I follow'd like a black whirlwind, and did for prise enforce Full fifty chariots, every one furnish'd with two arm'd men, Who ate the earth, slain with my lance. And I had slaughter'd then The two young boys, Moliones, if their world-circling sire, Great Neptune, had not saft their lives, and cover'd their retire Insea'd—enclosed by the sea. Eldest. The second folio reads " elder daughter." With unpierced clouds. Then Jove bestow'd a haughty victory Upon us Pylians; for so long we did the chase apply, Slaught'ring and making spoil of arms, till sweet Buprasius' soil, Alesius, and Olenia, were fam'd with our recoil; For there Minerva turn'd our power, and there the last I slew As, when our battle join'd, the first. The Pylians then withdrew To Pylos from Buprasius. Of all the Immortals then They most thank'd Jove for victory; Nestor the most of men. Such was I ever, if I were employ'd with other peers, And I had honour of my youth which dies not in my years. But great Achilles only joys hability of act In his brave prime, and doth not deign t' impart it where 'tis lack'd. No doubt he will extremely mourn long after that black hour Wherein our ruin shall be wrought, and rue his ruthless pow'r. O friend! my memory revives the charge Menœtius gave Thy towardness, when thou sett'st forth, to keep out of the grave Our wounded honour. I myself and wise Ulysses were Within the room, where every word then spoken we did hear, For we were come to Peleus' court, as we did mustering pass Through rich Achaia, where thy sire, renown'd Menœtius, was, Thyskelf and great Eacides, when Peleus the king To thunder-loving Jove did burn an ox for offering, In his court-yard. A cup of gold, crown'd with red wine, he held On th' holy incensory pour'd. You, when the ox was fell'd, Were dressing his divided limbs. We in the portal stood. Achilles seeing us come so near, his honourable blood Was struck with a respective shame, rose, took us by the hands, Brought us both in, and made us sit, and us'd his kind commands Incensory—altar of incense. Respective—respectful. For seemly hospitable rights, which quickly were appos'd. Then, after needfulness of food, I first of all disclos'd The royal cause of our repair; mov'd you and your great friend To consort our renown'd designs; both straight did condescend. Your fathers knew it, gave consent, and grave instruction To both your valours. Peleus charg'd his most unequall'd son To govern his victorious strength, and shine past all the rest In honour as in mere main force. Then were thy partings blest With dear advices from thy sire; 'My loved son,' said he, 'Achilles, by his grace of birth, superior is to thee, And for his force more excellent, yet thou more ripe in years;. Then with sound counsels, age's fruits, employ his honour'd years, Command and overrule his moods; his nature will obey In any charge discreetly given, that doth his good assay.' "Thus charg'd thy sire, which thou forgett'st. Yet now at last approve, With forced reference of these, th' attraction of his love; Who knows if sacred influence may bless thy good intent, And enter with thy gracious words, even to his full consent? The admonition of a friend is sweet and vehement. If any oracle he shun, or if his mother-queen Hath brought him some instinct from Jove that fortifies his spleen, Let him resign command to thee of all his Myrmidons, And yield by that means some repulse to our confusions, Adorning thee in his bright arms, that his resembled form May haply make thee thought himself, and calm this hostile storm; That so a little we may ease our overcharged hands, Draw some breath, not expire it all. The foe but faintly stands Beneath his labours; and your charge being fierce, and freshly given, They easily from our tents and fleet may to their walls be driven.” This mov'd the good Patroclus' mind, who made his utmost haste T' inform his friend; and as the fleet of Ithacus he past, As. Both folios have "at." (At which their markets were dispos'd, counsels, and martial courts, And where to th' altars of the Gods they made divine resorts) He met renown'd Eurypylus, Evemon's noble son, Halting, his thigh hurt with a shaft, the liquid sweat did run Down from his shoulders and his brows, and from his raging wound Forth flow'd his melancholy blood, yet still his mind was sound. His sight in kind Patroclus' breast to sacred pity turn'd, And (nothing more immartial for true ruth) thus he mourn'd: " Ah wretched progeny of Greece, princes, dejected kings, Was it your fates to nourish beasts, and serve the outcast wings Of savage vultures here in Troy? Tell me, Evemon's fame, Do yet the Greeks withstand his force whom yet no force can tame? Or are they hopeless thrown to death by his resistless lance?" " Divine Patroclus," he replied, " no more can Greece advance Defensive weapons, but to fleet they headlong must retire, For those that to this hour have held our fleet from hostile fire, And are the bulwarks of our host, lie wounded at their tents, And Troy's unvanquishable pow'r, still as it toils, augments. But take me to thy black-stern'd ship, save me, and from my thigh Cut out this arrow, and the blood, that is ingor'd and dry, Wash with warm water from the wound; then gentle salves apply, Which thou knowest best, thy princely friend hath taught thee surgery, Whom, of all Centaurs the most just, Chiron did institute. Thus to thy honourable hands my ease I prosecute, Since our physicians cannot help. Machaon at his tent Needs a physician himself, being leech and patient; And Podalirius, in the field, the sharp conflict sustains." Strong Menœtiades replied: "How shall I ease thy pains? What shall we do, Eurypylus? I am to use all haste To signify to Thetis' son occurrents that have past Nothing more immartial for true ruth—not the worse soldier for feeling true pity. At Nestor's honourable suit. But be that work achiev'd When this is done, I will not leave thy torments unreliev'd." This said, athwart his back he cast, beneath his breast, his arm, And nobly help'd him to his tent. His servants, seeing his harm, Dispread ox-hides upon the earth, whereon Eurypylus lay. Patroclus cut out the sharp shaft, and clearly wash'd away With lukewarm water the black blood; then 'twixt his hands he bruis'd A sharp and mitigatory root, which when he had infus'd Into the green, well-cleansed, wound, the pains he felt before Were well, and instantly allay'd, the wound did bleed no more.