Nor could his slaughter rest conceald from Menelaus' eare,
Who flew amongst the formost fights, and with his targe and speare
Circled the body, as much griev'd and with as tender heed
To keepe it theirs as any damme about her first-borne seed,
Not proving what the paine of birth, would make the love before.
Nor to pursue his first attaint Euphorbus' spirit forebore;
But, seeing Menelaus chiefe in rescue of the dead,
Assaid him thus: ‘Atrides, ceasse, and leave the slaughtered
With his embrew'd spoyle to the man that first of all our state
And famous succours, in faire fight, made passage to his fate.
And therefore suffer me to weare the good name I have wonne
Amongst the Troyans, lest thy life repay what his hath done.’
‘O Jupiter,’ said he, incenst, ‘Thou art no honest man
To boast so past thy powre to do. Not any Lion can,
Nor spotted Leopard, nor Bore (whose mind is mightiest
In powring furie from his strength) advance so prowd a crest
As Panthus' fighting progenie. But Hyperenor's pride
That joy'd so little time his youth, when he so vilifide
My force in armes and cald me worst of all our chevalrie
And stood my worst, might teach ye all to shun this surcuidrie:
I thinke he came not safely home to tell his wife his acts.
Nor lesse right of thy insolence my equall fate exacts
And will obtaine me, if thou stay'st. Retire then, take advise:
A foole sees nought before tis done, and still too late is wise.’
This mov'd not him but to the worse, since it renew'd the sting
That his slaine brother shot in him, rememberd by the king—
To whom he answer'd: ‘Thou shalt pay for all the paines endur'd
By that slaine brother, all the wounds sustaind for him recur'd
With one made in thy heart by me. Tis true, thou mad'st his wife
A heavie widow when her joyes of wedlocke scarce had life,
And hurt'st our parents with his griefe—all which thou gloriest in,
Forespeaking so thy death, that now their griefe's end shall begin.
To Panthus and the snowy hand of Phrontes I will bring
Those armes and that proud head of thine. And this laborious thing
Shall aske no long time to performe: nor be my words alone,
But their performance; Strength, and Fight, and Terror thus sets on.’
This said, he strooke his all-round shield, nor shrunke that, but his lance
That turn'd head in it. Then the king assaid the second chance,
First praying to the king of gods, and his dart entrie got
(The force much driving backe his foe) in low part of his throte
And ranne his necke through. Then fell pride, and he, and all with gore
His locks, that like the Graces were and which he ever wore
In gold and silver ribands wrapt, were piteously wet.
And when alone in some choice place a husband-man hath set
The young plant of an Olive tree, whose roote being ever fed
With plentie of delicious springs, his branches bravely spred
And all his fresh and lovely head growne curld with snowy flowres
That dance and florish with the winds that are of gentlest powres;
But when a whirlewind (got aloft) stoopes with a sodaine gale,
Teares from his head his tender curles, and tosseth therewithall
His fixt roote from his hollow mines: it well presents the force
Of Sparta's king, and so the Plant, Euphorbus, and his Corse.
He slaine, the king stript off his armes, and with their worthy prise
(All fearing him) had clearely past if heaven's faire eye of eyes
Had not (in envy of his acts) to his encounter stird
The Mars-like Hector, to whose powres the rescue he preferd
Of those faire armes, and tooke the shape of Mentes (Colonell
Of all the Cicones that neare the Thracian Hebrus dwell):
Like him, he thus put forth his voice: ‘Hector, thou scowr'st the field
In headstrong pursuite of those horse that hardly are compeld
To take the draught of chariots by any mortal's hand.
The great grand child of Æacus hath onely their command,
Whom an immortall mother bore. While thou attendst on these,
The young Atrides, in defence of Menœtiades,
Hath slaine Euphorbus.’ Thus the god tooke troope with men againe,
And Hector (heartily perplext) lookt round and saw the slaine,
Still shedding rivers from his wound; and then tooke envious view
Of brave Atrides with his spoyle, in way to whom he flew
Like one of Vulcan's quenchlesse flames. Atrides heard the crie
That ever usherd him, and sigh'd, and said: ‘O me, if I
Should leave these goodly armes and him that here lies dead for me,
I feare I should offend the Greeks. If I should stay and be
Alone with Hector and his men, I may be compast in;
Some sleight or other they may use. Many may quickly win
Their wils of one, and all Troy comes ever where Hector leades.
But why, deare mind, dost thou thus talke? When men dare set their heads
Against the gods (as sure they do that fight with men they love),
Straight one or other plague ensues. It cannot therefore move
The grudge of any Greeke that sees I yeeld to Hector, he
Still fighting with a spirit from heaven. And yet if I could see
Brave Ajax, he and I would stand, though gainst a god; and sure
Tis best I seeke him, and then see if we two can procure
This Corse's freedome through all these. A little then let rest
The body, and my mind be still. Of two bads chuse the best.’
In this discourse, the troopes of Troy were in with him, and he
Made such a Lionlike retreate, as when the herdsmen see
The royall savage and come on with men, dogs, cries and speares
To cleare their horned stall, and then the kingly heart he beares
(With all his high disdaine) fals off: so from this ods of aide
The golden-haird Atrides fled and in his strength displaid
Upon his left hand him he wisht, extremely busied
About encouraging his men, to whom an extreme dread
Apollo had infusde. The king reacht Ajax instantly,
And said: ‘Come, friend, let us two haste, and from the tyranny
Of Hector free Patroclus' corse.’ He strait and gladly went.
And then was Hector haling off the body, with intent
To spoile the shoulders of the head and give the dogs the rest
(His armes he having prisde before)—when Ajax brought his brest
To barre all further spoyle. With that he had sure, Hector thought
Twas best to satisfie his splene, which temper Ajax wrought
With his mere sight, and Hector fled. The armes he sent to Troy
To make his citizens admire and pray Jove send him joy.
Then Ajax gatherd to the corse and hid it with his targe,
There setting downe as sure a foote as (in the tender charge
Of his lov'd whelps) a Lion doth; two hundred hunters neare
To give him onset, their more force makes him the more austere,
Drownes all their clamors in his rores, darts, dogs, doth all despise,
And lets his rough browes downe so low they cover all his eyes:
So Ajax lookt, and stood, and stayd for great Priamides.
When Glaucus Hippolochides saw Ajax thus depresse
The spirit of Hector, thus he chid: ‘O goodly man at armes,
In fight a Paris, why should Fame make thee fort gainst our harmes,
Being such a fugitive? Now marke how well thy boasts defend
Thy citie onely with her owne. Be sure, it shall descend
To that proofe wholly. Not a man of any Lycian ranke
Shall strike one stroke more for thy towne: for no man gets a thanke
Should he eternally fight here, nor any guard of thee.
How wilt thou (worthlesse that thou art) keepe off an enemie
From our poore shoulders, when their Prince, Sarpedon, guest and friend
To thee (and most deservedly) thou flew'st from in his end
And left'st to all the lust of Greece? O gods, a man that was
(In life) so huge a good to Troy, and to thee such a grace,
(In death) not kept by thee from dogs? If my friends will do well,
We'le take our shoulders from your walls and let all sinke to hell—
As all will, were our faces turn'd. Did such a spirit breath
In all you Troyans as becomes all men that fight beneath
Their countrie's standerd, you would see that such as prop your cause
With like exposure of their lives have all the honour'd lawes
Of such a deare confederacie kept to them to a thred—
As now ye might reprise the armes Sarpedon forfeited
By forfeit of your rights to him, would you but lend your hands
And force Patroclus to your Troy. Ye know how deare he stands
In his love that of all the Greeks is (for himselfe) farre best
And leades the best, neare-fighting men: and therefore would (at least)
Redeeme Sarpedon's armes—nay him, whom you have likewise lost.
This body drawne to Ilion would after draw and cost
A greater ransome, if you pleasd. But Ajax startles you.
Tis his breast barres this right to us. His lookes are darts enow
To mixe great Hector with his men. And not to blame ye are
You chuse foes underneath your strengths; Ajax exceeds ye farre.’
Hector lookt passing sowre at this, and answerd: ‘Why dar'st thou
(So under) talke above me so? O friend, I thought till now
Thy wisdome was superiour to all th' inhabitants
Of gleby Lycia, but now impute apparent wants
To that discretion thy words shew, to say I lost my ground
For Ajax' greatnesse. Nor feare I the field in combats drownd,
Nor force of chariots: but I feare a powre much better seene,
In right of all warre, than all we—that god that holds betweene
Our victorie and us his shield, lets conquest come and go
At his free pleasure, and with feare converts her changes so
Upon the strongest: men must fight when his just spirit impels,
Not their vaine glories. But come on, make thy steps parallels
To these of mine, and then be judge how deepe the worke will draw—
If then I spend the day in shifts, or thou canst give such law
To thy detractive speeches then, or if the Grecian host
Holds any that in pride of strength holds up his spirit most
Whom (for the cariage of this Prince that thou enforcest so)
I make not stoope in his defence. You, friends, ye heare and know
How much it fits ye to make good this Grecian I have slaine
For ransome of Jove's sonne, our friend. Play then the worthy men
Till I endue Achilles' armes.’ This said, he left the fight
And cald backe those that bore the armes, not yet without his sight
In convoy of them towards Troy. For them, he chang'd his owne,
Remov'd from where it rained teares, and sent them backe to towne.
Then put he on th' eternall armes that the celestiall states
Gave Peleus; Peleus, being old, their use appropriates
To his Achilles, that (like him) forsooke them not for age.
When he whose Empire is in clouds saw Hector bent to wage
Warre in divine Achilles' armes, he shooke his head, and said:
‘Poore wretch, thy thoughts are farre from death, though he so neare hath laid
His ambush for thee. Thou putst on those armes as braving him
Whom others feare, hast slaine his friend and from his youthfull lim
Torne rudely off his heavenly armes, himselfe being gentle, kind
And valiant. Equall measure then thy life in youth must find.
Yet since the justice is so strickt that not Andromache
(In thy denied returne from fight) must ever take of thee
Those armes in glory of thy acts, thou shalt have that fraile blaze
Of excellence that neighbours death—a strength even to amaze.’
To this his sable browes did bow, and he made fit his lim
To those great armes, to fill which up the Warre god entred him,
Austere and terrible: his joynts and every part extends
With strength and fortitude; and thus to his admiring friends
High Clamor brought him. He so shin'd that all could thinke no lesse
But he resembl'd every way great-soul'd Æacides.
Then every way he scowr'd the field, his Captaines calling on—
Asteropæus, Ennomus (that foresaw all things done),
Glaucus and Medon, Deisenor and strong Thersilochus,
Phorcys and Mesthles, Chromius and great Hippothous:
To all these and their populous troopes, these his excitements were:
‘Heare us, innumerable friends; neare-bordering nations, heare.
We have not cald you from our townes to fill our idle eye
With number of so many men (no such vaine Emperie
Did ever joy us) but to fight, and of our Troyan wives
With all their children manfully to save the innocent lives.
In whose cares we draw all our townes of aiding souldiers drie
With gifts, guards, victuall, all things fit, and hearten their supplie
With all like rights; and therefore now let all sides set downe this,
Or live, or perish: this of warre the speciall secret is.
In which most resolute designe, who ever beares to towne
Patroclus (laid dead to his hand) by winning the renowne
Of Ajax' slaughter, the halfe spoyle we wholly will impart
To his free use, and to our selfe the other halfe convert.
And so the glory shall be shar'd; our selfe will have no more
Than he shall shine in.’ This drew all to bring abrode their store
Before the body: every man had hope it would be his
And forc't from Ajax. Silly fooles, Ajax prevented this
By raising rampiers to his friend with halfe their carkasses.
And yet his humour was to rore and feare—and now, no lesse
To startle Sparta's king, to whom he cried out: ‘O my friend!
O Menelaus! Now no hope to get off; here's the end
Of all our labours. Not so much I feare to lose the Corse
(For that's sure gone, the fowles of Troy and dogs will quickly force
That peece-meale) as I feare my head, and thine, O Atreus' sonne,
Hector a cloud brings will hide all; instant destruction
Grievous and heavie comes. O call, our Peeres to aid us; flie.’
He hasted and usde all his voice, sent farre and nere his crie:
‘O Princes, chiefe lights of the Greeks, and you that publickly
Eate with our Generall and me—all men of charge, O know
Jove gives both grace and dignitie to any that will show
Good minds for onely good it selfe, though presently the eye
Of him that rules discerne him not. Tis hard for me t' espie
(Through all this smoke of burning fight) each Captaine in his place
And call assistance to our need. Be then each other's grace
And freely follow each his next; disdaine to let the joy
Of great Æacides be forc't to feed the beasts of Troy.’
His voyce was first heard and obeyd by swift Oiliades.
Idomeneus and his mate (renown'd Meriones)
Were seconds to Oileus' sonne: but of the rest, whose mind
Can lay upon his voice the names that after these combind
In setting up this fight on end? The Troyans first gave on.
And as into the sea's vast mouth, when mightie rivers run,
Their billowes and the sea resound, and all the utter shore
Rebellowes (in her angry shocks) the sea's repulsive rore:
With such sounds gave the Troyans charge; so was their charge represt.
One mind fild all Greeks, good brasse shields close coucht to every brest.
And on their bright helmes Jove powr'd downe a mightie deale of night
To hide Patroclus—whom alive, and when he was the knight
Of that grand child of Æacus, Saturnius did not hate,
Nor, dead, would see him dealt to dogs and so did instigate
His fellowes to his worthy guard. At first the Troyans drave
The blacke-ey'd Grecians from the Corse; but not a blow they gave
That came at death. A while they hung about the bodie's heeles,
The Greekes quite gone. But all that while did Ajax whet the steeles
Of all his forces, that cut backe way to the Corse againe.
Brave Ajax (that for forme and fact past all that did maintaine
The Grecian fame, next Thetis' sonne) now flew before the first.
And as a sort of dogs and youths are by a Bore disperst
About a mountaine: so fled these from mightie Ajax, all
That stood in conflict for the Corse—who thought no chance could fall
Betwixt them and the prise at Troy. For bold Hippothous
(Lethus' Pelasgus' famous sonne) was so adventurous
That he would stand to bore the Corse about the ankle bone,
Where all the nervie fibers meete and ligaments in one,
That make the motion of those parts; through which he did convay
The thong or bawdricke of his shield, and so was drawing away
All thanks from Hector and his friends; but in their steed he drew
An ill that no man could avert. For Telamonius threw
A lance that strooke quite through his helme; his braine came leaping out;
Downe fell Letheides, and with him the bodie's hoisted foote.
Farre from Larissa's soyle he fell, a little time allow'd
To his industrious spirits to quit the benefits bestow'd
By his kind parents. But his wreake Priamides assaid,
And threw at Ajax; but his dart (discovered) past, and staid
At Schedius, sonne of Iphitus, a man of ablest hand
Of all the strong Phocensians, and liv'd with great command
In Panopeus. The fell dart fell through his channell bone,
Pierc't through his shoulder's upper part, and set his spirit gone.
When (after his) another flew, the same hand giving wing
To martiall Phorcys' startled soule, that was the after spring
Of Phænops' seed: the javelin strooke his curets through and tore
The bowels from the bellie's midst. His fall made those before
Give backe a little, Hector's selfe enforc't to turne his face.
And then the Greeks bestow'd their showts, took vantage of the chace,
Drew off, and spoild Hippothous and Phorcys of their armes.
And then ascended Ilion had shaken with alarmes
(Discovering th' impotence of Troy) even past the will of Jove
And by the proper force of Greece, had Phœbus faild to move
Æneas, in similitude of Periphas (the sonne
Of grave Epytus) king at armes, and had good service done
To old Anchises, being wise and even with him in yeares.
But (like this man) the farre-seene god to Venus' sonne appeares,
And askt him how he would maintaine steepe Ilion in her height,
In spite of gods (as he presum'd), when men approv'd so sleight
All his presumptions, and all theirs that puft him with that pride,
Beleeving in their proper strengths, and generally supplied
With such unfrighted multitudes? But he well knew that Jove
(Besides their selfe conceipts) sustaind their forces with more love
Than theirs of Greece, and yet all that lackt power to hearten them.
Æneas knew the god, and said: It was a shame extreme
That those of Greece should beate them so, and by their cowardise,
Not want of man's aide. nor the gods; and this (before his eyes)
A deitie stood even now and voucht, affirming Jove their aide—
And so bad Hector and the rest (to whom all this he said)
Turne head, and not in that quicke ease part with the corse to Greece.
This said, before them all he flew; and all (as of a peece)
Against the Greeks flew. Venus' sonne Leocritus did end,
Sonne of Arisbas, and had place of Lycomedes' friend;
Whose fall he friendly pittied, and in revenge bestow'd
A lance that Apisaon strooke so sore that straite he strow'd
The dustie center; it did sticke in that congealed blood
That formes the liver. Second man he was of all that stood
In name for armes amongst the troope that from Pæonia came,
Asteropæus being the first; who was in ruth the same
That Lycomedes was, like whom he put forth for the wreake
Of his slaine friend, but wrought it not because he could not breake
That bulwarke made of Grecian shields and bristl'd wood of speares
Combin'd about the body slaine. Amongst whom Ajax beares
The greatest labour, every way exhorting to abide
And no man flie the corse a foote, nor breake their rankes in pride
Of any foremost daring spirit, but each foote hold his stand
And use the closest fight they could. And this was the command
Of mightie Ajax: which observ'd, they steept the earth in blood.
The Troyans and their friends fell thicke. Nor all the Grecians stood
(Though farre the fewer suffred fate) for ever they had care
To shun confusion and the toyle that still oppresseth there.
So set they all the field on fire, with which you would have thought
The Sunne and Moone had bene put out, in such a smoke they fought
About the person of the Prince. But all the field beside
Fought underneath a lightsome heaven: the Sun was in his pride,
And such expansure of his beames he thrust out of his throne
That not a vapour durst appeare in all that region—
No, not upon the highest hill. There fought they still and breathd,
Shund danger, cast their darts aloofe, and not a sword unsheathd.
The other plyde it, and the warre and Night plyde them as well,
The cruell steele afflicting all; the strongest did not dwell
Unhurt within their iron roofes. Two men of speciall name,
Antilochus and Thrasymed were yet unserv'd by Fame
With notice of Patroclus' death: they thought him still alive
In foremost tumult—and might well, for (seeing their fellowes thrive
In no more comfortable sort than Fight and Death would yeeld)
They fought apart; for so their Sire, old Nestor, strictly wild,
Enjoyning fight more from the fleet. Warre here increast his heate
The whole day long, continually the labour and the sweate
The knees, calves, feete, hands, faces smear'd of men that Mars applide
About the good Achilles' friend. And as a huge Oxe hide
A Currier gives amongst his men to supple and extend
With oyle, till it be drunke withall; they tug, stretch out, and spend
Their oyle and licour liberally, and chafe the leather so
That out they make a vapour breathe, and in their oyle doth go;
A number of them set on worke, and in an Orbe they pull
That all waies all parts of the hide they may extend at full:
So here and there did both parts hale the Corse in little place,
And wrought it al waies with their sweate; the Troyans hop't for grace
To make it reach to Ilion, the Grecians to their fleet.
A cruell tumult they stird up, and such as should Mars see't
(That horrid hurrier of men) or she that betters him,
Minerva, never so incenst, they could not disesteeme.
So banefull a Contention did Jove that day extend
Of men and horse about the slaine. Of whom his god-like friend
Had no instruction—so farre off, and underneath the wall
Of Troy, that conflict was maintaind which was not thought at all
By great Achilles, since he charg'd that, having set his foote
Upon the Ports, he would retire, well knowing Troy no boote
For his assaults without himselfe, since not by him, as well
He knew, it was to be subdu'd. His mother oft would tell
The mind of mightie Jove therein, oft hearing it in heaven;
But of that great ill to his friend was no instruction given
By carefull Thetis. By degrees must ill events be knowne.
The foes cleft one to other still about the overthrowne.
His death with death infected both. Even private Greekes would say
Either to other: ‘Twere a shame for us to go our way
And let the Troyans beare to Troy the praise of such a prise:
Which let the blacke earth gaspe and drinke our blood for sacrifise
Before we suffer: tis an act much lesse infortunate.’
And then would those of Troy resolve: ‘Though certainly our fate
Will fell us altogether here, of all not turne a face.’
Thus either side his fellowe's strength excited past his place,
And thus through all th' unfruitfull aire an iron sound ascended
Up to the golden firmament—when strange affects contended
In these immortall heaven-bred horse of great Æacides,
Whom (once remov'd from forth the fight) a sodaine sense did seise
Of good Patroclus' death, whose hands they oft had undergone,
And bitterly they wept for him. Nor could Automedon
With any manage make them stirre; oft use the scourge to them,
Oft use his fairest speech, as oft threats never so extreme,
They neither to the Hellespont would beare him, nor the fight.
But still as any tombe-stone layes his never-stirred weight
On some good man or woman's grave for rites of funerall:
So unremoved stood these steeds, their heads to earth let fall
And warme teares gushing from their eyes with passionate desire
Of their kind manager; their manes, that florisht with the fire
Of endlesse youth allotted them, fell through the yokie sphere
Ruthfully rufl'd and defilde. Jove saw their heavy cheare,
And (pittying them) spake to his mind: ‘Poore wretched beasts,’ said he,
‘Why gave we you t' a mortall king, when immortalitie
And incapacitie of age so dignifies your states?
Was it to tast the miseries pour'd out on humane fates?
Of all the miserabl'st things that breathe and creepe on earth
No one more wretched is than man. And for your deathlesse birth,
Hector must faile to make you prise. Is't not enough he weares
And glories vainly in those armes? Your chariots, and rich geares
(Besides you) are too much for him. Your knees and spirits againe
My care of you shall fill with strength, that so ye may sustaine
Automedon and beare him off. To Troy I still will give
The grace of slaughter, till at fleet their bloody feete arrive,
Till Phoebus drinke the Westerne sea and sacred darknesse throwes
Her sable mantle twixt their points.’ Thus in the steeds he blowes
Excessive spirit, and through the Greeks and Ilians they rapt
The whirring chariot, shaking off the crumbl'd center, wrapt
Amongst their tresses. And with them Automedon let flie
Amongst the Troyans, making way through all as frightfully
As through a jangling flocke of Geese a lordly Vulture beats,
Given way with shrikes by every Goose that comes but neare his threats:
With such state fled he through the preasse, pursuing as he fled—
But made no slaughter; nor he could, alone being carried
Upon the sacred chariot. How could he both works do,
Direct his javelin and command his fiery horses too?
At length, he came where he beheld his friend Alcimedon,
That was the good Laercius', the sonne of Hæmon's sonne,
Who close came to his chariot side, and askt: ‘What god is he
That hath so robd thee of thy soule, to runne thus frantickly
Amongst these forefights, being alone, thy fighter being slaine
And Hector glorying in his armes?’ He gave these words againe:
‘Alcimedon, what man is he, of all the Argive race,
So able as thy selfe to keepe in use of preasse and pace
These deathlesse horse—himselfe being gone that like the gods had th' art
Of their high manage? Therefore take to thy command his part
And ease me of the double charge, which thou hast blam'd with right.’
He tooke the scourge and reines in hand, Automedon the fight.
Which Hector seeing, instantly (Æneas standing neare)
He told him he discern'd the horse that mere immortall were
Addrest to fight with coward guides, and therefore hop't to make
A rich prise of them if his mind would helpe to undertake—
For those two could not stand their charge. He granted, and both cast
Drie solid hides upon their neckes, exceeding soundly brast;
And forth they went, associate with two more god-like men,
Aretus and bold Chromius; nor made they question then
To prise the goodly-crested horse and safely send to hell
The soules of both their guardians. O fooles, that could not tell
They could not worke out their returne from fierce Automedon
Without the liberall cost of blood; who first made Orizon
To father Jove and then was fild with fortitude and strength;
When (counselling Alcimedon to keepe at no great length
The horse from him, but let them breathe upon his backe, because
He saw th' advance that Hector made, whose furie had no lawes
Proposd to it but both their lives and those horse made his prise—
Or his life theirs—he cald to friend these well-approv'd supplies,
Th' Ajaces and the Spartan king, and said: ‘Come, Princes, leave
A sure guard with the corse, and then to your kind care receive
Our threatned safeties. I discerne the two chief props of Troy
Prepar'd against us. But herein what best men can enjoy
Lies in the free knees of the gods. My dart shall leade ye all;
The sequell to the care of Jove I leave, what ever fall.’
All this spake good Automedon; then, brandishing his lance,
He threw and strooke Aretus' shield, that gave it enterance
Through all the steele and (by his belt) his bellie's inmost part
It pierc't, and all his trembling lims gave life up to his dart.
Then Hector at Automedon a blazing lance let flie,
Whose flight he saw and, falling flat, the compasse was too hie
And made it sticke beyond in earth; th' extreme part burst, and there
Mars buried all his violence. The sword then for the speare
Had chang'd the conflict, had not haste sent both th' Ajaces in
(Both serving close their fellowe's call), who where they did begin
There drew the end. Priamides, Æneas, Chromius
(In doubt of what such aid might worke) left broken-hearted thus
Aretus to Automedon, who spoild his armes, and said:
‘A little this revives my life for him so lately dead
(Though by this nothing countervail'd).’ And with this little vent
Of inward griefe he tooke the spoile; with which he made ascent
Up to his Chariot, hands and feete of bloudie staines so full
That Lion-like he lookt, new turn'd from tearing up a Bull.
And now another bitter fight about Patroclus grew,
Teare-thirstie, and of toile enough; which Pallas did renew,
Descending from the cope of starres, dismist by sharp-eyd Jove
To animate the Greeks; for now inconstant change did move
His mind from what he held of late. And as the purple bow
Jove bends at mortals when of warre he will the signall show,
Or make it a presage of cold in such tempestuous sort
That men are of their labours easde, but labouring cattell hurt:
So Pallas in a purple cloud involv'd her selfe, and went
Amongst the Grecians, stird up all, but first encouragement
She breath'd in Atreus' yonger sonne, and (for disguise) made choise
Of aged Phœnix' shape, and spake with his unwearied voice:
‘O Menelaus, much defame and equall heavinesse
Will touch at thee, if this true friend of great Æacides
Dogs teare beneath the Troyan wals; and therefore beare thee well,
Toile through the host, and every man with all thy spirit impell.’
He answerd: ‘O thou long-since borne, O Phœnix, that hast wonne
The honor'd foster-father's name of Thetis' god-like sonne,
I would Minerva would but give strength to me and but keepe
These busie darts off; I would then make in indeed and steepe
My income in their bloods, in aide of good Patroclus. Much
His death afflicts me, much; but yet this Hector's grace is such
With Jove, and such a fierie strength and spirit he has, that still
His steele is killing, killing still.’ The king's so royall will
Minerva joy'd to heare, since she did all the gods outgo
In his remembrance. For which grace she kindly did bestow
Strength on his shoulders and did fill his knees as liberally
With swiftnesse, breathing in his breast the courage of a flie
Which loves to bite so and doth beare man's bloud so much good will
That still (though beaten from a man) she flies upon him still:
With such a courage Pallas fild the blacke parts neare his hart.
And then he hasted to the slaine, cast off a shining dart,
And tooke one Podes, that was heire to old Eetion,
A rich man and a strenuous and by the people done
Much honour, and by Hector too, being consort and his guest.
And him the yellow-headed king laid hold on at his waste
In offering flight; his iron pile strooke through him; downe he fell,
And up Atrides drew his corse. Then Phœbus did impell
The spirit of Hector, Phænops like, surnam'd Asiades,
Whom Hector usde (of all his guests) with greatest friendlinesse,
And in Abydus stood his house; in whose forme thus he spake:
‘Hector! What man of all the Greeks will any terror make
Of meeting thy strength any more, when thou art terrified
By Menelaus, who, before he slue thy friend, was tried
A passing easie souldier, where now (besides his end
Imposde by him) he drawes him off (and not a man to friend)
From all the Troyans? This friend is Podes, Eetion's sonne.’
This hid him in a cloud of griefe and set him formost on.
And then Jove tooke his Snake-fring'd shield, and Ida cover'd all
With sulphurie clouds, from whence he let abhorred lightnings fall
And thunderd till the mountaine shooke: and with this dreadfull state
He usherd victorie to Troy, to Argos flight and fate.
Peneleus Bœotius was he that formost fled,
Being wounded in his shoulder's height, but there the lance's head
Strooke lightly, glancing to his mouth, because it strooke him neare,
Throwne from Polydamas. Leitus next left the fight in feare
(Being hurt by Hector in his hand) because he doubted sore
His hand, in wished fight with Troy, would hold his lance no more.
Idomeneus sent a dart at Hector (rushing in
And following Leitus) that strooke his bosome neare his chin
And brake at top; the Ilians for his escape did shout.
When Hector at Deucalides another lance sent out
As in his chariot he stood; it mist him narrowly,
For (as it fell) Cœranus drave his speedie chariot by
And tooke the Troyan lance himselfe; he was the Chariotere
Of sterne Meriones and first on foote did service there,
Which well he left to governe horse, for saving now his king
With driving twixt him and his death, though thence his owne did spring—
Which kept a mightie victorie from Troy in keeping death
From his great Soveraigne. The fierce dart did enter him beneath
His eare, betwixt his jaw and it, drave downe, cut through his tongue
And strooke his teeth out; from his hands the horses' raines he flung,
Which now Meriones receiv'd as they bestrew'd the field
And bad his Soveraigne scourge away; he saw that day would yeeld
No hope of victorie for them. He fear'd the same and fled.
Nor from the mightie-minded sonne of Telamon lay hid
(For all his clouds) high Jove himselfe, nor from the Spartan king.
They saw him in the victorie he still was varying
For Troy. For which sight Ajax said: ‘O heavens, what foole is he
That sees not Jove's hand in the grace now done our enemie?
Not any dart they touch but takes, from whom soever throwne,
Valiant or coward. What he wants, Jove addes; not any one
Wants his direction to strike sure—nor ours, to misse as sure.
But come, let us be sure of this, to put the best in ure
That lies in us; which two-fold is—both to fetch off our friend
And so to fetch him off as we may likeliest contend
To fetch our selves off—that our friends surviving may have right
In joy of our secure retreat, as he that fell in fight
Being kept as sure from further wrong. Of which perhaps they doubt,
And, looking this way, grieve for us, not able to worke out
Our passe from this man-slaughterer, great Hector, and his hands
That are too hote for men to touch, but that these thirstie sands
Before our fleete will be enforc't to drinke our headlong death.
Which to prevent by all fit meanes, I would the parted breath
Of good Patroclus to his friend with speed imparted were
By some he loves: for I beleeve no heavie messenger
Hath yet inform'd him. But, alas, I see no man to send;
Both men and horse are hid in mists that every way descend.
O father Jupiter, do thou the sonnes of Greece release
Of this felt darknesse; grace this day with fit transparences
And give the eyes thou giv'st, their use; destroy us in the light
And worke thy will with us, since needs thou wilt against us fight.’
This spake he weeping, and his teares Saturnius pitie show'd,
Disperst the darknesse instantly and drew away the clowd
From whence it fell: the Sunne shin'd out and all the host appear'd.
And then spake Ajax, whose heard prayre his spirits highly chear'd:
‘Brave Menelaus, looke about, and, if thou canst descrie
Nestor's Antilochus alive, incite him instantly
To tell Achilles that his friend most deare to him is dead.’
He said; nor Menelaus stucke at any thing he said
(As loth to do it) but he went. As from a Grasier's stall
A Lion goes when overlaid (with men, dogs, darts, and all
Not easely losing a fat Oxe, but strong watch all night held),
His teeth yet watering; oft he comes, and is as oft repeld,
The adverse darts so thicke are pour'd before his brow-hid eyes,
And burning firebrands; which, for all his great heart's heate, he flies
And (grumbling) goes his way betimes: so from Patroclus went
Atrides much against his mind, his doubts being vehement
Lest (he gone from his guard) the rest would leave (for very feare)
The person to the spoile of Troy. And yet his guardians were
Th' Ajaces and Meriones, whom much his care did presse
And thus exhort: ‘Ajaces both, and you Meriones,
Now let some true friend call to mind the gentle and sweete nature
Of poore Patroclus; let him thinke how kind to every creature
His heart was, living, though now dead.’ Thus urg'd the faire-hair'd king,
And parted, casting round his eye. As when upon her wing
An Eagle is, whom men affirme to have the sharpest sight
Of all aire's region of fowles, and, though of mightie height,
Sees yet within her leavie forme of humble shrubs, close laid,
A light-foote Hare, which straight she stoupes, trusses and strikes her dead:
So dead thou strook'st thy charge, O king, through all warre's thickets so
Thou look'dst and swiftly found'st thy man, exhorting gainst the foe
And heartning his plied men to blowes, usde in the warre's left wing.
To whom thou saidst: ‘Thou god-lov'd man, come here, and heare a thing
Which I wish never were to heare. I thinke even thy eye sees
What a destruction God hath laid upon the sonnes of Greece,
And what a conquest he gives Troy; in which the best of men,
Patroclus, lies exanimate, whose person passing faine
The Greeks would rescue and beare home; and therefore give thy speed
To his great friend, to prove if he will do so good a deed
To fetch the naked person off, for Hector's shoulders weare
His prised armes.’ Antilochus was highly griev'd to heare
This heavie newes, and stood surprisde with stupid silence long,
His faire eyes standing full of teares; his voice, so sweete and strong,
Stucke in his bosome; yet all this wrought in him no neglect
Of what Atrides gave in charge, but for that quicke effect
He gave Laodocus his armes (his friend that had the guide
Of his swift horse), and then his knees were speedily applide
In his sad message, which his eyes told all the way in teares.
Nor would thy generous heart assist his sore-charg'd souldiers,
O Menelaus, in meane time, though left in much distresse.
Thou sentst them god-like Thrasymed, and mad'st thy kind regresse
Backe to Patroclus, where arriv'd, halfe breathlesse thou didst say
To both th' Ajaces: ‘I have sent this messenger away
To swift Achilles, who, I feare, will hardly helpe us now
(Though mad with Hector); without armes he cannot fight, ye know.
Let us then thinke of some best meane, both how we may remove
The bodie and get off our selves from this vociferous drove
And fate of Troyans.’ ‘Bravely spoke at all parts,’ Ajax said,
‘O glorious sonne of Atreus. Take thou then straite the dead,
And thou Meriones. We two, of one mind as one name,
Will backe ye soundly and on us receive the wild-fire flame
That Hector's rage breathes after you, before it come at you.’
This said, they tooke into their armes the bodie—all the show
That might be made to those of Troy, at arme's end bearing it.
Out shriekt the Troyans when they saw the bodie borne to fleete,
And rusht on. As at any Bore, gasht with the hunters' wounds,
A kennell of the sharpest set and sorest bitten hounds
Before their youthfull huntsmen haste, and eagerly a while
Pursue as if they were assur'd of their affected spoile;
But when the Savage (in his strength as confident as they)
Turnes head amongst them, backe they flie, and every one his way:
So troope-meale Troy pursu'd a while, laying on with swords and darts,
But when th' Ajaces turn'd on them and made their stand, their harts
Drunke from their faces all their blouds, and not a man sustain'd
The forechace nor the after fight. And thus Greece nobly gain'd
The person towards home: but thus the changing warre was rackt
Out to a passing bloudie length. For as, once put in act,
A fire invading citie roofes is sodainly engrost
And made a wondrous mightie flame, in which is quickly lost
A house long building, all the while a boisterous gust of wind
Lumbring amongst it: so the Greekes (in bearing of their friend)
More and more foes drew, at their heeles a tumult thundering still
Of horse and foote. Yet as when Mules, in haling from a hill
A beame or mast through foule deepe way, well clapt and heartned, close
Lie to their labour, tug and sweate, and passing hard it goes
(Urg'd by their drivers to all hast): so dragg'd they on the corse,
Still both th' Ajaces at their backs, who backe still turn'd the force,
Though after it grew still the more. Yet as a sylvane hill
Thrusts backe a torrent that hath kept a narrow channell still,
Till at his Oken breast it beates, but there a checke it takes
That sends it over all the vale with all the stirre it makes,
Nor can with all the confluence breake through his rootie sides:
In no lesse firme and brave repulse th' Ajaces curb'd the prides
Of all the Troyans: yet all held the pursuite in his strength
Their chiefes being Hector and the sonne of Venus, who at length
Put all the youth of Greece besides in most amazefull rout—
Forgetting all their fortitudes, distraught and shrieking out,
A number of their rich armes lost, falne from them here and there
About and in the dike. And yet, the warre concludes not here.