Jove helping Hector and his host thus close to th' Achive fleet,
He let them then their own strengths try, and season there their sweet
With ceaslesse toils and grievances. For now he turnd his face,
Lookt downe and viewd the far-off land of welrode men in Thrace,
Of the renown'd milk-nourisht men, the Hippemolgians,
Long-liv'd, most just and innocent, and close-fought Mysians.
Nor turnd he any more to Troy his ever-shining eyes,
Because he thought not any one of all the Deities
(When his care left th' indifferent field) would aide on either side.
But this securitie in Jove the great Sea-Rector spide,
Who sate aloft on th' utmost top of shadie Samothrace
And viewd the fight. His chosen seate stood in so brave a place
That Priam's cittie, th' Achive ships, all Ida did appeare
To his full view, who from the sea was therefore seated there.
He tooke much ruth to see the Greeks by Troy sustaine such ill
And (mightily incenst with Jove) stoopt strait from that steepe hill,
That shooke as he flew off, so hard his parting prest the height.
The woods and all the great hils neare trembled beneath the weight
Of his immortall moving feet. Three steps he onely tooke
Before he far-off Ægas reacht, but with the fourth it shooke
With his drad entrie. In the depth of those seas he did hold
His bright and glorious pallace built of never-rusting gold:
And there arriv'd, he put in Coach his brazen-footed steeds.
All golden-man'd and pac't with wings; and all in golden weeds
He clothed himselfe. The golden scourge (most elegantly done)
He tooke and mounted to his seate, and then the God begun
To drive his chariot through the waves. From whirlepits every way
The whales exulted under him and knew their king: the Sea
For joy did open, and his horse so swift and lightly flew
The under-axeltree of brasse no drop of water drew.
And thus these deathlesse Coursers brought their king to th' Achive ships.
Twixt th' Imber Cliffs and Tenedos a certaine Caverne creepes
Into the deepe sea's gulphie breast, and there th' earth-shaker staid
His forward steeds, tooke them from coach and heavenly fodder laid
In reach before them. Their brasse hoves he girt with gives of gold,
Not to be broken nor dissolv'd, to make them firmely hold
A fit attendance on their king—who went to th' Achive host
Which (like to tempests or wild flames) the clustring Troyans tost,
Insatiably valourous, in Hector's like command,
High sounding, and resounding, shouts, for Hope chear'd every hand
To make the Greek fleete now their prise and all the Greeks destroy.
But Neptune (circler of the earth) with fresh heart did employ
The Grecian hands. In strength of voice and body, he did take
Calchas' resemblance and (of all) th' Ajaces first bespake,
Who of themselves were free enough: ‘Ajaces, you alone
Sustaine the common good of Greece, in ever putting on
The memorie of Fortitude and flying shamefull Flight.
Elsewhere, the desperate hands of Troy could give me no affright,
The brave Greeks have withstood their worst: but this our mightie wall
Being thus transcended by their powre, grave Feare doth much appall
My carefull spirits, lest we feele some fatall mischiefe here,
Where Hector, raging like a flame, doth in his charge appeare
And boasts himselfe the best God's sonne. Be you conceited so,
And fire so more than humane spirits, that God may seeme to do
In your deeds, and, with such thoughts chear'd, others to such exhort
And such resistance: these great minds will in as great a sort
Strengthen your bodies and force checke to all great Hector's charge,
Though nere so spirit-like, and though Jove still (past himselfe) enlarge
His sacred actions.’ Thus he toucht with his forckt scepter's point
The brests of both, fild both their spirits and made up every joynt
With powre responsive—when, hawk-like, swift and set sharpe to flie,
That fiercely stooping from a rocke inaccessible and hie
Cuts through a field and sets a fowle (not being of her kind)
Hard and gets ground still, Neptune so left these two, either's mind
Beyond themselves raisd. Of both which, Oileus first discern'd
The masking Deitie, and said: ‘Ajax, some God hath warn'd
Our powres to fight and save our fleet. He put on him the hew
Of th' Augure Calchas: by his pace (in leaving us) I knew
(Without all question) twas a God: the Gods are easly knowne,
And in my tender brest I feele a greater spirit blowne
To execute affaires of fight: I find my hands so free
To all high motion and my feete seeme featherd under me.’
This Telamonius thus receiv'd: ‘So to my thoughts my hands
Burne with desire to tosse my lance: each foote beneath me stands
Bare on bright fire to use his speed: my heart is raisd so hie
That to encounter Hector's selfe I long insatiately.’
While these thus talkt, as over-joyd with studie for the fight
(Which God had stird up in their spirits) the same God did excite
The Greekes that were behind at fleet, refreshing their free hear
And joynts, being even dissolv'd with toyle; and (seeing the desprate parts
Playd by the Troyans, past their wall) Griefe strooke them, and their eyes
Sweat teares from under their sad lids, their instant destinies
Never supposing they could scape. But Neptune, stepping in,
With ease stird up the able troopes, and did at first begin
With Teucer and Peneleus, th' Heroe Leitus,
Deipyrus, Meriones and yong Antilochus,
All expert in the deeds of armes: ‘O youths of Greece,’ said he,
‘What change is this? In your brave fight I onely lookt to see
Our fleet's whole safetie; and, if you neglect the harmefull field,
Now shines the day when Greece to Troy must all her honours yeeld.
O griefe! so great a miracle and horrible to sight
As now I see I never thought could have prophan'd the light.
The Troyans brave us at our ships, that have bene heretofore
Like faint and fearefull Deare in woods, distracted evermore
With everie sound, and yet scape not but prove the torne-up fare
Of Lynces, Wolves and Leopards, as never borne to warre:
Nor durst these Troyans at first siege in any least degree
Expect your strength or stand one shocke of Grecian Chivalrie.
Yet now farre from their walles they dare fight at our fleet maintaine,
All by our General's cowardise, that doth infect his men,
Who (still at ods with him) for that will needs themselves neglect
And suffer Slaughter in their ships. Suppose there was defect
(Beyond all question) in our king to wrong Æacides
And he for his particular wreake from all assistance cease;
We must not ceasse t' assist our selves. Forgive our Generall then,
And quickly too: apt to forgive are all good-minded men.
Yet you (quite voide of their good minds) give good, in you quite lost,
For ill in others, though ye be the worthiest of your host.
As old as I am, I would scorne to fight with one that flies
Or leaves the fight, as you do now. The Generall slothfull lies,
And you (though sloughfull too) maintaine with him a fight of splene.
Out, out, I hate ye from my heart, ye rotten-minded men.
In this ye adde an ill that's worse than all your sloth's dislikes.
But, as I know to all your hearts my reprehension strikes,
So thither let just shame strike too, for, while you stand still here,
A mightie fight swarmes at your fleete, great Hector rageth there,
Hath burst the long barre and the gates.’ Thus Neptune rowsd these men,
And round about th' Ajaces did their Phalanxes maintaine
Their station firme, whom Mars himselfe (had he amongst them gone)
Could not disparage, nor Jove's Maide that sets men fiercer on.
For now the best were chosen out, and they receiv'd th' advance
Of Hector and his men so full that lance was lin'd with lance,
Shields thickned with opposed shields, targets to targets nail'd,
Helmes stucke to helmes and man to man grew—they so close assail'd.
Plum'd caskes were hang'd in either's plumes, all joyn'd so close their stands,
Their lances stood thrust out so thicke by such all-daring hands.
All bent their firme brests to the point and made sad fight their joy.
Of both, Troy all in heapes strooke first, and Hector first of Troy.
And as a round peece of a rocke, which with a winter's flood
Is from his top torne, when a showre, powr'd from a bursten cloud
Hath broke the naturall bond it held within the rough steepe rocke,
And, jumping, it flies downe the woods, resounding everie shocke,
And on, uncheckt, it headlong leapes till in a plaine it stay,
And then (though never so impeld) it stirs not any way:
So Hector hereto throated threats, to go to sea in blood
And reach the Grecian ships and tents without being once withstood,
But, when he fell into the strengths the Grecians did maintaine
And that they fought upon the square, he stood as fetterd then.
And so the adverse sons of Greece laid on with swords and darts
(Whose both ends hurt) that they repeld his worst, and he converts
His threats by all meanes to retreats; yet made as he retir'd
Onely t' encourage those behind, and thus those men inspir'd:
‘Troyans! Dardanians! Lycians! All warlike friends! Stand close.
The Greeks can never beare me long, though towre-like they oppose.
This lance (be sure) will be their spoile, if even the best of Gods,
High-thundring Juno's husband, stirres my spirite with true abodes.’
With this, all strengths and minds he mov'd, but yong Deiphobus,
Old Priam's sonne, amongst them all was chiefly vertuous.
He bore before him his round shield, tript lightly through the prease,
At all parts coverd with his shield. And him Meriones
Charg'd with a glittring dart that tooke his bul-hide orbie shield,
Yet pierc't it not but in the top it selfe did peecemeale yeeld.
Deiphobus thrust forth his targe and fear'd the broken ends
Of strong Meriones his lance, who now turnd to his friends.
The great Heroe, scorning much by such a chance to part
With lance and conquest, forth he went to fetch another dart
Left at his tent. The rest fought on; the Clamor heightned there
Was most unmeasur'd. Teucer first did flesh the Massacre
And slue a goodly man at armes, the souldier Imbrius,
The sonne of Mentor, rich in horse: he dwelt at Pedasus
Before the sonnes of Greece sieg'd Troy, from whence he married
Medesicasté, one that sprung of Priam's bastard bed.
But when the Greeke ships (double-oar'd) arriv'd at Ilion,
To Ilion he returnd and prov'd beyond comparison
Amongst the Troyans: he was lodg'd with Priam, who held deare
His naturall sonnes no more than him. Yet him, beneath the eare,
The sonne of Telamon attain'd, and drew his lance. He fell
As when an Ash on some hil's top (it selfe topt wondrous well)
The steele hewes downe and he presents his young leaves to the soyle:
So fell he, and his faire armes gron'd—which Teucer long'd to spoyle,
And in he ranne; and Hector in, who sent a shining lance
At Teucer, who (beholding it) slipt by and gave it chance
On Actor's sonne Amphimachus, whose breast it strooke. And in
Flew Hector, at his sounding fall, with full intent to win
The tempting helmet from his head: but Ajax with a dart
Reacht Hector at his rushing in, yet toucht not any part
About his bodie: it was hid quite through with horrid brasse.
The bosse yet of his targe it tooke, whose firme stuffe staid the passe,
And he turnd safe from both the trunks, both which the Grecians bore
From off the field. Amphimachus, Menestheus did restore,
And Stichius, to th' Achaian strength. Th' Ajaces (that were pleasd
Still most with most hote services) on Troyan Imbrius seasd.
And as from sharply-bitten hounds a brace of Lions force
A new-slaine Goate, and through the woods beare in their jawes the corse
Aloft, lift up into the aire: so up into the skies
Bore both th' Ajaces Imbrius, and made his armes their prise.
Yet (not content) Oiliades, enrag'd to see there dead
His much-belov'd Amphimachus, he hewd off Imbrius' head
Which (swinging round) bowle-like he tost amongst the Troyan prease,
And full at Hector's feete it fell. Amphimachus' decease
(Being nephew to the God of waves) much vext the Deitie's mind
And to the ships and tents he marcht, yet more to make inclinde
The Grecians to the Troyan bane. In hasting to which end,
Idomeneus met with him, returning from a friend
Whose hamme late hurt his men brought off, and, having given command
To his Physitians for his cure (much fir'd to put his hand
To Troy's repulse) he left his tent. Him (like Andræmon's sonne,
Prince Thoas, that in Pleuron rulde, and loftie Calydon,
Th' Ætolian powres, and like a God was of his subjects lov'd)
Neptune encountred, and but thus his forward spirit mov'd:
‘Idomeneus, Prince of Crete, O whither now are fled
Those threats in thee which with the rest the Troyans menaced?’
‘O Thoas,’ he replide, ‘no one of all our host stands now
In any question of reproofe (as I am let to know)
And why is my intelligence false? We all know how to fight
And (Feare disanimating none) all do our knowledge right.
Nor can our harmes accuse our sloth: not one from worke we misse.
The great God onely workes our ill, whose pleasure now it is
That, farre from home in hostile fields and with inglorious fate,
Some Greeks should perish. But do thou, O Thoas (that of late
Hast prov'd a souldier and was wont where thou hast Sloth beheld
To chide it and exhort to paines) now hate to be repeld
And set on all men.’ He replied: ‘I would to heaven that he
Who ever this day doth abstaine from battell willinglie
May never turne his face from Troy, but here become the prey
And skorne of dogs! Come then, take armes, and let our kind assay
Joyne both our forces: though but two, yet being both combinde
The worke of many single hands we may performe: we finde
That Vertue coaugmented thrives in men of little minde,
But we have, singly, matcht the great.’ This said, the God again
(With all his conflicts) visited the ventrous fight of men.
The king turnd to his tent, rich armes put on his brest and tooke
Two darts in hand and forth he flew: his haste on made him looke
Much like a fierie Meteor with which Jove's sulphrie hand
Opes heaven and hurles about the aire, bright flashes showing aland
Abodes that ever run before tempest and plagues to men:
So, in his swift pace, shew'd his armes. He was encountred then
By his good friend Meriones, yet neare his tent, to whom
Thus spake the powre of Idomen: ‘What reason makes thee come,
Thou sonne of Molus, my most lov'd, thus leaving fight alone?
Is't for some wound? The Javelin's head (still sticking in the bone)
Desir'st thou ease of? Bring'st thou newes? Or what is it that brings
Thy presence hither? Be assur'd, my spirite needs no stings
To this hote conflict. Of my selfe thou seest I come, and loth
For any tent's love to deserve the hatefull taint of Sloth.’
He answerd, onely for a dart he that retreat did make
(Were any left him at his tent), for that he had he brake
On proud Deiphobus his shield. ‘Is one dart all?’ said he.
‘Take one and twentie, if thou like, for in my tent they be:
They stand there shining by the walls: I tooke them as my prise
From those false Troyans I have slaine. And this is not the guise
Of one that loves his tent or fights afarre off with his foe,
But, since I love fight, therefore doth my martiall starre bestow
(Besides those darts) helmes, targets bost and corslets bright as day.’
‘So I,’ said Merion, ‘at my tent and sable barke may say
I many Troyan spoiles retaine; but now not neare they be
To serve me for my present use, and therefore aske I thee.
Not that I lacke a fortitude to store me with my owne,
For ever in the formost fights, that render men renowne,
I fight when any fight doth stirre—and this perhaps may well
Be hid to others, but thou know'st, and I to thee appeale.’
‘I know,’ replide the king, ‘how much thou weigh'st in everie worth:
What needst thou therefore utter this? If we should now chuse forth
The worthiest men for ambushes in all our fleet and host—
For ambushes are services that trie men's vertues most,
Since there the fearefull and the firme will as they are appeare,
The fearefull altering still his hue and rests not any where,
Nor is his spirit capable of th' ambush constancie
But riseth, changeth still his place and croucheth curiously
On his bent hanches, halfe his height scarce seene above the ground
For feare to be seene, yet must see, his heart with many a bound
Offring to leape out of his breast and (ever fearing death)
The coldnesse of it makes him gnash and halfe shakes out his teeth;
Where men of valour neither feare nor ever change their lookes
From lodging th' ambush till it rise, but, since there must be strokes,
Wish to be quickly in their midst—thy strength and hand in these
Who should reprove? For if, farre off or fighting in the prease,
Thou shouldst be wounded, I am sure the dart that gave the wound
Should not be drawne out of thy backe or make thy necke the ground,
But meete thy bellie or thy breast, in thrusting further yet
When thou art furthest till the first, and before him, thou get.
But on: like children, let not us stand bragging thus, but do,
Lest some heare and past measure chide that we stand still and wooe.
Go, chuse a better dart and make Mars yeeld a better chance.’
This said, Mars-swift Meriones with haste a brazen lance
Tooke from his tent and overtooke (most carefull of the wars)
Idomeneus. And such two in field as harmfull Mars
And Terror, his beloved sonne, that without terror fights
And is of such strength that in warre the frighter he affrights,
When out of Thrace they both take armes against th' Ephyran bands
Or gainst the great-soul'd Phlegyans, nor favour their owne hands
But give the grace to others still—in such sort to the fight
Marcht these two managers of men in armours full of light.
And first spake Merion: ‘On which part, sonne of Deucalion,
Serves thy mind to invade the fight? Is't best to set upon
The Troyans, in our battel's aide, the right or left-hand wing,
For all parts I suppose employd?’ To this the Cretan king
Thus answerd: ‘In our navie's midst are others that assist—
The two Ajaces, Teucer too, with shafts the expertest
Of all the Grecians and, though small, is great in fights of stand.
And these (though huge he be of strength) will serve to fill the hand
Of Hector's selfe, that Priamist, that studier for blowes.
It shall be cald a deed of height for him (even suffring throwes
For knocks still) to out-labour them, and (bettring their tough hands)
Enflame our fleet. If Jove himselfe cast not his fier-brands
Amongst our navie, that affaire no man can bring to field.
Great Ajax Telamonius to none alive will yeeld
That yeelds to death and whose life takes Ceres' nutritions,
That can be cut with any iron or pasht with mightie stones.
Not to Æacides himselfe he yeelds for combats set,
Though cleare he must give place for pace and free swinge of his feete.
Since then the battell (being our place of most care) is made good
By his high valour, let our aid see all powres be withstood
That charge the left wing, and to that let us direct our course,
Where quickly feele we this hote foe or make him feele our force.’
This orderd, swift Meriones went, and forewent, his king,
Till both arriv'd where one enjoynd. When in the Greeks' left wing
The Troyans saw the Cretan king, like fire in fortitude,
And his attendant, in bright armes so gloriously indude,
Both chearing the sinister troopes, all at the king addresst
And so the skirmish at their sternes on both parts was increast—
That as from hollow bustling winds engenderd stormes arise
When dust doth chiefly clog the waies, which up into the skies
The wanton tempest ravisheth, begetting Night of Day,
So came together both the foes. Both lusted to assay
And worke with quicke steele either's death. Man's fierce corruptresse, Fight,
Set up her bristles in the field, with lances long and light,
Which thicke fell foule on either's face: the splendor of the steele,
In new-skowrd curets, radiant caskes and burnisht shields, did seele
Th' assailers' eyes up. He sustaind a huge spirit that was glad
To see that labour, or in soule that stood not stricken sad.
Thus these two disagreeing Gods, old Saturn's mightie sonnes,
Afflicted these heroique men with huge oppressions.
Jove, honouring Æacides (to let the Greeks still trie
Their want without him), would bestow (yet still) the victorie
On Hector and the Troyan powre: yet for Æacides
And honor of his mother Queene, great Goddesse of the seas,
He would not let proude Ilion see the Grecians quite destroid,
And therefore, from the hoarie deepe, he sufferd so imploid
Great Neptune in the Grecian aid, who griev'd for them and storm'd
Extremely at his brother Jove. Yet both one Goddesse form'd
And one soile bred: but Jupiter precedence tooke in birth
And had more knowledge, for which cause the other came not forth
Of his wet kingdome but with care of not being seene t' excite
The Grecian host, and like a man appeard and made the fight.
So these Gods made men's valours great, but equald them with warre
As harmefull as their hearts were good, and stretcht those chaines as farre
On both sides as their lims could beare—in which they were involv'd
Past breach or loosing, that their knees might therefore be dissolv'd.
Then, though a halfe-gray man he were, Crete's soveraigne did excite
The Greeks to blowes and flew upon the Troyans even to flight.
For he, in sight of all the host, Othryoneus slew,
That from Cabesus with the fame of those warres thither drew
His new-come forces and requir'd, without respect of dowre,
Cassandra, fair'st of Priam's race, assuring with his powre
A mightie labour—to expell, in their despite, from Troy
The sons of Greece. The king did vow (that done) he should enjoy
His goodliest daughter. He (in trust of that faire purchase) fought,
And at him threw the Cretan king a lance that singl'd out
This great assumer, whom it strooke just in his navil's stead:
His brazen curets helping nought, resignd him to the dead.
Then did the conquerour exclaime, and thus insulted then:
‘Othryoneus, I will praise beyond all mortall men
Thy living vertues, if thou wilt now perfect the brave vow
Thou mad'st to Priam for the wife he promisd to bestow.
And where he should have kept his word there, we assure thee here
To give thee for thy Princely wife the fairest and most deare
Of our great General's femall race, which from his Argive hall
We all will waite upon to Troy, if with our aids and all
Thou wilt but race this well-built towne. Come, therefore, follow me,
That in our ships we may conclude this royall match with thee.
I'le be no jote worse than my word.’ With that he tooke his feete,
And dragg'd him through the fervent fight: in which did Asius meete
The victor, to inflict revenge. He came on foote before
His horse, that on his shoulders breath'd, so closely evermore
His coachman led them to his Lord, who held a huge desire
To strike the King—but he strooke first, and underneath his chin
At his throat's height through th' other side his eager lance drave in,
And downe he busl'd, like an Oake, a Poplar or a Pine
Hewne downe for shipwood, and so lay. His fall did so decline
The spirit of his chariotere that, lest he should incense
The victor to empaire his spoile, he durst not drive from thence
His horse and chariot, and so pleasd with that respective part
Antilochus, that for his feare he reacht him with a dart
About his bellie's midst and downe his sad corse fell beneath
The richly-builded chariot, there labouring out his breath.
The horse Antilochus tooke off, when (griev'd for this event)
Deiphobus drew passing neare and at the victor sent
A shining Javelin, which he saw and shund with gathring round
His body in his all-round shield—at whose top, with a sound,
It overflew: yet, seising there, it did not idlely flie
From him that wing'd it: his strong hand still drave it mortally
On Prince Hypsenor. It did pierce his liver, underneath
The veines it passeth: his shrunke knees submitted him to death.
And then did loud Deiphobus miraculously vant:
‘Now Asius lies not unreveng'd, nor doth his spirit want
The joy I wish it, though it be now entring the strong gate
Of mightie Pluto, since this hand hath sent him downe a mate.’
This glorie in him griev'd the Greeks, and chiefly the great mind
Of martiall Antilochus, who (though to griefe inclind)
He left not yet his friend but ran and hid him with his shield,
And to him came two lovely friends that freed him from the field,
Mecisteus, sonne of Echius, and the right nobly borne
Alastor, bearing him to fleet, and did extremely mourne.
Idomeneus suncke not yet, but held his nerves entire,
His mind, much lesse deficient, being fed with firme desire
To hide more Troyans in dim night, or sinke himselfe, in guard
Of his lov'd countrimen. And then Alcathous prepar'd
Worke for his valour, offring fate his owne destruction—
A great Heroe and had grace to be the loved sonne
Of Æsyetes, sonne in law to Prince Æneas' Sire,
Hippodamia marrying, who most enflam'd the fire
Of her deare parents' love and tooke precedence in her birth
Of all their daughters, and as much exceeded in her worth
(For beautie answerd with her mind and both with housewiferie)
All the faire beauty of young Dames that usde her companie;
And therefore (being the worthiest Dame) the worthiest man did wed
Of ample Troy. Him Neptune stoopt beneath the royall force
Of Idomen, his sparkling eyes deluding and the course
Of his illustrous lineaments so out of nature bound
That backe nor forward he could stirre, but (as he grew to ground)
Stood like a pillar or high tree and neither mov'd nor fear'd
When strait the royall Cretan's dart in his mid breast appear'd:
It brake the curets that were proofe to everie other dart,
Yet now they cleft and rung: the lance stucke shaking in his heart—
His heart with panting made it shake. But Mars did now remit
The greatnesse of it and the king, now quitting the bragge fit
Of glorie in Deiphobus, thus terribly exclam'd:
‘Deiphobus, now may we thinke that we are evenly fam'd,
That three for one have sent to Dis. But come, change blowes with me;
Thy vaunts for him thou slew'st were vaine. Come, wretch, that thou maist see
What issue Jove hath. Jove begot Minos, the strength of Crete;
Minos begot Deucalion; Deucalion did beget
Me, Idomen, now Creta's king, that here my ships have brought
To bring thy selfe, thy father, friends, all Ilion's pompe to nought.’
Deiphobus at two wayes stood, in doubt to call some one
(With some retreat) to be his aide, or trie the chance alone.
At last, the first seem'd best to him, and backe he went to call
Anchises' sonne to friend, who stood in troope the last of all,
Where still he serv'd—which made him still incense against the king,
That, being amongst his best their Peere, he grac't not anything
His wrong'd deserts. Deiphobus spake to him, standing neare:
‘Æneas, Prince of Troyans, if any touch appeare
Of glorie in thee, thou must now assist thy sister's Lord
And one that to thy tendrest youth did carefull guard afford,
Alcathous, whom Creta's king hath chiefly slaine to thee,
His right most challenging thy hand. Come, therefore; follow me.’
This much excited his good mind and set his heart on fire
Against the Cretan, who, child-like dissolv'd not in his ire,
But stood him firme. As when in hils a strength-relying Bore,
Alone and hearing hunters come (whom Tumult flies before),
Up-thrusts his bristles, whets his tusks, sets fire on his red eyes
And in his brave-prepar'd repulse both dogs and men despise:
So stood the famous-for-his-lance, nor shund the coming charge
That resolute Æneas brought: yet (since the ods was large)
He cald, with good right, to his aide war-skild Ascalaphus,
Aphareus, Meriones, the strong Deipyrus
And Nestor's honorable sonne: ‘Come neare, my friends,’ said he,
‘And adde your aids to me alone. Feare taints me worthilie,
Though firme I stand and shew it not. Æneas, great in fight,
And one that beares youth in his flowre (that beares the greatest might)
Comes on with aime direct at me: had I his youthfull lim
To beare my mind, he should yeeld Fame or I would yeeld it him.’
This said, all held in many soules one readie helpfull mind,
Clapt shields on shoulders and stood close. Æneas (not inclind
With more presumption than the king) cald aid as well as he—
Divine Agenor, Helen's love, who followd instantly
And all their forces following them, as after Bellwethers
The whole flocks follow to their drinke, which sight the shepheard cheres.
Nor was Æneas' joy lesse mov'd to see such troopes attend
His honord person, and all these fought close about his friend.
But two of them past all the rest had strong desire to shed
The blood of either—Idomen and Cytherea's seed.
Æneas first bestowd his lance, which th' other seeing shund,
And that (throwne from an idle hand) stucke trembling in the ground.
But Idomen's (discharg'd at him) had no such vaine successe,
Which OEnomaus' entrailes found, in which it did impresse
His sharpe pile to his fall: his palms tore his returning earth.
Idomeneus strait stept in and pluckt his Javelin forth
But could not spoile his goodly armes, they prest him so with darts.
And now the long toile of the fight had spent his vigorous parts
And made them lesse apt to avoid the foe that should advance,
Or (when himselfe advanc't againe) to run and fetch his lance.
And therefore in stiffe fights of stand he spent the cruell day,
When (coming softly from the slaine) Deiphobus gave way
To his bright Javelin at the king, whom he could never brooke.
But then he lost his envie too: his lance yet deadly tooke
Ascalaphus, the sonne of Mars: quite through his shoulder flew
The violent head, and downe he fell. Nor yet by all meanes knew
Wide-throated Mars his sonne was falne, but in Olympus' top
Sat canapied with golden clouds. Jove's counsell had shut up
Both him and all the other Gods from that time's equall taske
Which now about Áscalaphus Strife set. His shining caske
Deiphobus had forc't from him, but instantly leapt in
Mars-swift Meriones and strooke, with his long Javelin,
The right arme of Deiphobus, which made his hand let fall
The sharp-topt helmet, the prest earth resounding therewithall.
When, Vulture-like, Meriones rusht in againe and drew
(From out the low part of his arme) his Javelin, and then flew
Backe to his friends. Deiphobus (faint with the blood's excesse
Falne from his wound) was carefully convaid out of the preasse
By his kind brother by both sides, Polites, till they gat
His horse and chariot, that were still set fit for his retreate,
And bore him now to Ilion. The rest fought fiercely on
And set a mightie fight on foote—when next Anchises' sonne
Aphareus Caletorides (that ran upon him) strooke
Just in the throate with his keene lance, and strait his head forsooke
His upright cariage, and his shield, his helme and all with him
Fell to the earth, where ruinous death made prise of everie lim.
Antilochus (discovering well that Thoon's heart tooke checke)
Let flie and cut the hollow veine that runs up to his necke
Along his backe part quite in twaine: downe in the dust he fell
Upwards and, with extended hands, bad all the world farewell.
Antilochus rusht nimbly in and (looking round) made prise
Of his faire armes, in which affaire his round-set enemies
Let flie their lances, thundering, on his advanced targe,
But could not get his flesh. The God that shakes the earth tooke charge
Of Nestor's sonne and kept him safe, who never was away
But still amongst the thickest foes his busie lance did play,
Observing ever when he might far-off or neare offend.
And, watching Asius' sonne in prease, he spide him and did send
(Close coming on) a dart at him that smote in midst his shield,
In which the sharpe head of the lance the blew-hair'd God made yeeld,
Not pleasd to yeeld his pupil's life—in whose shield halfe the dart
Stucke like a trunchion burnd with fire, on earth lay th' other part.
He, seeing no better end of all, retir'd, in feare of worse,
But him Meriones pursude, and his lance found full course
To th' other's life: it wounded him betwixt the privie parts
And navill, where (to wretched men that war's most violent smarts
Must undergo) wounds chiefly vexe. His dart Meriones
Pursude, and Adamas so striv'd with it and his misease,
As doth a Bullocke puffe and storme, whom in disdained bands
The upland heardsmen strive to cast, so (falne beneath the hands
Of his sterne foe) Asiades did struggle, pant and rave—
But no long time: for when the lance was pluckt out up he gave
His tortur'd soule. Then Troy's turne came, when with a Thracian sword
The temples of Deipyrus did Helenus afford
So huge a blow it strooke all light out of his cloudie eyes
And cleft his helmet, which a Greeke (there fighting) made his prise
(It fell so full beneath his feet). Atrides griev'd to see
That sight, and (threatning) shooke a lance at Helenus, and he
A bow halfe drew at him: at once out flew both shaft and lance.
The shaft Atrides' curets strooke and farre away did glance:
Atrides' dart, of Helenus the thrust-out bow-hand strooke,
And through the hand stucke in the bow. Agenor's hand did plucke
From forth the nailed prisoner the Javelin quickly out,
And fairely, with a little wooll enwrapping round about
The wounded hand, within a scarffe he bore it, which his Squire
Had readie for him: yet the wound would needs he should retire.
Pisander, to revenge his hurt, right on the King ran he.
A bloodie fate suggested him to let him runne on thee,
O Menelaus, that he might by thee in dangerous warre
Be done to death. Both coming on, Atrides' lance did erre.
Pisander strooke Atrides' shield, that brake at point, the dart
Not running through—yet he rejoyc't as playing a victor's part.
Atrides (drawing his faire sword) upon Pisander flew.
Pisander from beneath his shield his goodly weapon drew,
Two-edg'd, with right sharpe steele, and long, the handle Olive-tree
Well-polisht, and to blowes they go. Upon the top strooke he
Atrides' horse-hair'd-featherd helme. Atrides on his brow
(Above th' extreme part of his nose) laid such a heavie blow
That all the bones crasht under it and out his eyes did drop
Before his feete, in bloodie dust: he after, and shrunke up
His dying bodie, which the foote of his triumphing foe
Opened, and stood upon his breast, and off his armes did go,
This insultation usde the while: ‘At length forsake our fleete
Thus, ye false Troyans, to whom warre never enough is sweet.
Nor want ye more impieties, with which ye have abusde
Me, ye bold dogs, that your chiefe friends so honourably usde.
Nor feare you hospitable Jove, that lets such thunders go.
But build upon't, he will unbuild your towres that clamber so,
For ravishing my goods and wife, in flowre of all her yeares,
And without cause—nay, when that faire and liberall hand of hers
Had usde you so most lovingly. And now againe ye would
Cast fire into our fleet and kill our Princes if ye could.
Go to, one day you will be curb'd (though never so ye thirst
Rude warre) by warre. O Father Jove, they say thou art the first
In wisedome of all Gods and men; yet all this comes from thee,
And still thou gratifiest these men, how lewd so ere they be,
Though never they be cloid with sinnes, nor can be satiate
(As good men should) with this vile warre. Satietie of state,
Satietie of sleepe and love, satietie of ease,
Of musicke, dancing, can find place, yet harsh warre still must please
Past all these pleasures, even past these. They will be cloyd with these
Before their warre joyes: never warre gives Troy satieties.’
This said, the bloody armes were off and to his souldiers throwne,
He mixing in first fight againe. And then Harpalion,
Kind King Pylæmen's sonne, gave charge, who to those warres of Troy
His loved father followed, nor ever did enjoy
His countrie's sight againe. He strooke the targe of Atreus' sonne
Full in the midst: his javelin's steele yet had no powre to runne
The target through; nor had himselfe the heart to fetch his lance,
But tooke him to his strength and cast on every side a glance
Lest any his deare sides should dart. But Merion as he fled
Sent after him a brazen lance, that ranne his eager head
Through his right hippe and all along the bladder's region
Beneath the bone: it settl'd him and set his spirit gone
Amongst the hands of his best friends, and like a worme he lay
Stretcht on the earth, which his blacke blood embrewd and flow'd away.
His corse the Paphlagonians did sadly waite upon
(Reposd in his rich chariot) to sacred Ilion—
The king his father following, dissolv'd in kindly teares,
And no wreake sought for his slaine sonne. But at his slaughterers
Incensed Paris spent a lance (since he had bene a guest
To many Paphlagonians) and through the preasse it prest.
There was a certaine Augure's sonne, that did for wealth excell
And yet was honest: he was borne and did at Corinth dwell;
Who (though he knew his harmefull fate) would needs his ship ascend.
His father, Polyidus, oft would tell him that his end
Would either seise him at his house, upon a sharpe disease,
Or else amongst the Grecian ships, by Troyans slaine. Both these
Together he desir'd to shun, but the disease (at last,
And lingring death in it) he left and warre's quicke stroke embrac't.
The lance betwixt his eare and cheeke ran in, and drave the mind
Of both those bitter fortunes out. Night strooke his whole powres blind.
Thus fought they like the spirit of fire, nor Jove-lov'd Hector knew
How in the fleet's left wing the Greekes his downe-put souldiers slew
Almost to victorie, the God that shakes the earth so well
Helpt with his owne strength and the Greeks so fiercely did impell.
Yet Hector made the first place good, where both the ports and wall
(The thicke rancke of the Greeke shields broke) he enterd and did skall
Where on the gray sea's shore were drawne (the wall being there but sleight)
Protesilaus' ships and those of Ajax, where the fight
Of men and horse were sharpest set. There the Bœotian bands,
Long-rob'd Iaones, Locrians and (brave men of their hands)
The Phthian and Epeian troopes did spritefully assaile
The God-like Hector rushing in, and yet could not prevaile
To his repulse, though choicest men of Athens there made head—
Amongst whom was Menestheus Chiefe, whom Phidias followed,
Stichius and Bias, huge in strength. Th' Epeian troopes were led
By Meges' and Phylides' cares, Amphion, Dracius.
Before the Phthians Medon marcht and Meneptolemus,
And these (with the Bœotian powres) bore up the fleet's defence.
Oileus by his brother's side stood close and would not thence
For any moment of that time. But as through fallow fields
Blacke Oxen draw a well-joyn'd plough and either evenly yeelds
His thriftie labour, all heads coucht so close to earth they plow
The fallow with their hornes, till out the sweate begins to flow,
The stretcht yokes cracke, and yet at last the furrow forth is driven:
So toughly stood these to their taske and made their worke as even.
But Ajax Telamonius had many helpfull men,
That, when sweate ran about his knees and labour flow'd, would then
Helpe beare his mightie seven-fold shield; when swift Oiliades
The Locrians left and would not make those murthrous fights of prease,
Because they wore no bright steele caskes nor bristl'd plumes for show,
Round shields nor darts of solid Ash, but with the trustie bow
And jackes well-quilted with soft wooll they came to Troy and were
(In their fit place) as confident as those that fought so neare,
And reacht their foes so thicke with shafts that these were they that brake
The Troyan orders first, and then the brave-arm'd men did make
Good worke with their close fights before. Behind whom, having shot,
The Locrians hid still, and their foes all thought of fight forgot
With shewes of those farre-striking shafts, their eyes were troubled so.
And then assur'dly from the ships and tents th' insulting foe
Had miserably fled to Troy had not Polydamas
Thus spoke to Hector: ‘Hector, still impossible tis to passe
Good counsell upon you. But say some God prefers thy deeds,
In counsels wouldst thou passe us too? In all things none exceeds:
To some God gives the powre of warre, to some the sleight to dance,
To some the art of instruments, some doth for voice advance,
And that far-seeing God grants some the wisedome of the minde,
Which no man can keepe to himselfe, that (though but few can finde)
Doth profite many, that preserves the publique weale and state,
And that who hath he best can prise. But for me I'le relate
Onely my censure what's our best. The verie crowne of warre
Doth burne about thee, yet our men, when they have reacht thus farre,
Suppose their valours crownd, and ceasse. A few still stir their feet
And so a few with many fight, sperst thinly through the fleet.
Retire then, leave speech to the route and all thy Princes call,
That here, in counsels of most weight, we may resolve of all—
If, having likelihood to beleeve that God wil conquest give,
We shall charge through, or, with this grace, make our retreate and live.
For I must needs affirme I feare the debt of yesterday
(Since warre is such a God of change) the Grecians now will pay;
And, since th' insatiate man of warre remaines at fleet, if there
We tempt his safetie, no howre more his hote soule can forbeare.’
This sound stuffe Hector lik't, approv'd, jumpt from his chariot
And said: ‘Polydamas, make good this place and suffer not
One Prince to passe it. I my selfe will there go where you see
Those friends in skirmish and returne (when they have heard from me
Command that your advice obeys) with utmost speed.’ This said,
With day-bright armes, white plume, white skarffe his goodly lims arraid,
He parted from them, like a hill, removing, all of snow,
And to the Troyan Peres and Chiefes he flew, to let them know
The Counsell of Polydamas. All turnd and did rejoyce
To haste to Panthus' gentle sonne, being cald by Hector's voyce—
Who (through the forefights making way) lookt for Deiphobus,
King Helenus, Asiades, Hyrtasian Asius.
Of whom some were not to be found unhurt or undeceast,
Some onely hurt and gone from field. As further he addrest,
He found within the fight's left wing the faire-hair'd Helen's love
By all meanes moving men to blowes, which could by no meanes move
Hector's forbeareance, his friends' misse so put his powres in storme,
But thus in wonted terms he chid: ‘You with the finest forme,
Impostor, woman's man, where are (in your care markt) all these—
Deiphobus, king Helenus, Asius Hyrtacides,
Othryoneus, Adamas? Now haughtie Ilion
Shakes to his lowest groundworke, now just ruine fals upon
Thy head past rescue.’ He replyed: ‘Hector, why chid'st thou now
When I am guiltlesse? Other times there are for ease, I know,
Than these: for she that brought thee forth not utterly left me
Without some portion of thy spirit, to make me brother thee.
But, since thou first brought'st in thy force to this our navall fight,
I and my friends have ceaslesse fought to do thy service right.
But all those friends thou seek'st are slaine, excepting Helenus
(Who parted wounded in his hand) and so Deiphobus—
Jove yet averted death from them. And now leade thou as farre
As thy great heart affects: all we will second any warre
That thou endurest. And I hope my owne strength is not lost:
Though least, I'le fight it to his best—nor further fights the most.’
This calm'd hote Hector's spleene, and both turnd where they saw the face
Of warre most fierce, and that was where their friends made good the place
About renowm'd Polydamas and God-like Polyphet,
Palmus, Ascanius, Morus that Hippotion did beget
And from Ascania's wealthie fields but even the day before
Arriv'd at Troy, that with their aide they kindly might restore
Some kindnesse they receiv'd from thence. And, in fierce fight, with these
Phalces and tall Orthæus stood and bold Cebriones.
And then the doubt that in advice Polydamas disclosd,
To fight or flie, Jove tooke away, and all to fight disposd.
And as the floods of troubled aire to pitchie stormes increase,
That after thunder sweepes the fields and ravish up the seas,
Encountring with abhorred roares when the engrossed waves
Boile into foame; and endlesly one after other raves:
So rank't and guarded th' Ilians marcht; some now, more now, and then
More upon more in shining steele; now Captaines, then their men.
And Hector, like man-killing Mars, advanc't before them all,
His huge round target before him, through thickn'd like a wall
With hides well-coucht with store of brasse; and on his temples shin'd
His bright helme, on which danc't his plume; and in this horrid kind
(All hid within his worldlike shield) he everie troope assaid
For entrie, that in his despite stood firme and undismaid.
Which when he saw, and kept more off, Ajax came stalking then,
And thus provokt him: ‘O good man, why fright'st thou thus our men?
Come nearer. Not Art's want in warre makes us thus navie-bound,
But Jove's direct scourge; his arm'd hand makes our hands give you ground.
Yet thou hop'st (of thy selfe) our spoile. But we have likewise hands
To hold our owne as you to spoile; and, ere thy countermands
Stand good against our ransackt fleete, your hugely-peopl'd towne
Our hands shall take in, and her towres from all their heights pull downe.
And, I must tell thee, time drawes on when, flying, thou shalt crie
To Jove and all the Gods to make thy faire-man'd horses flie
More swift than Falkons, that their hoofes may rouse the dust and beare
Thy bodie, hid, to Ilion.’ This said, his bold words were
Confirm'd as soone as spoke; Jove's bird, the high-flowne Eagle, tooke
The right hand of their host, whose wings high acclamations strooke
From foorth the glad breasts of the Greeks. Then Hector made replie:
'Vaine-spoken man and glorious, what hast thou said? Would I
As surely were the sonne of Jove, and of great Juno borne,
Adorn'd like Pallas and the God that lifts to earth the Morne,
As this day shall bring harmefull light to all your host; and thou
(If thou dar'st stand this lance) the earth before the ships shalt strow,
Thy bosome torne up, and the dogs, with all the fowle of Troy,
Be satiate with thy fat and flesh.’ This said, with showting joy
His first troopes follow'd, and the last their showts with showts repeld.
Greece answerd all, nor could her spirits from all shew rest conceald.
And to so infinite a height all acclamations strove
They reacht the splendors stucke about the unreacht throne of Jove.