Classic Poem

Patroclus thus emploid in cure of hurt Eurypylus,
Both hosts are all for other wounds doubly contentious—
One all wayes labouring to expell, the other to invade.
Nor could the brode dike of the Greeks, nor that strong wall they made
To guard their fleete be long unrac't, because it was not raisd
By grave direction of the Gods, nor were their Deities praisd
(When they begun) with Hecatombes, that then they might be sure
(Their strength being season'd wel with heaven's) it should have force t' endure,
And so the safeguard of their fleete and all their treasure there
Infallibly had bene confirm'd; when now their bulwarks were
Not onely without powre of checke to their assaulting foe
(Even now, as soone as they were built) but apt to overthrow,
Such as in verie little time shall burie all their sight
And thought that ever they were made. As long as the despight
Of great Æacides held up and Hector went not downe
And that by those two meanes stood safe king Priam's sacred towne,
So long their rampire had some use (though now it gave some way),
But when Troy's best men sufferd Fate and many Greeks did pay
Deare for their sufferance, then the rest home to their countrie turnd
The tenth yeare of their warres at Troy, and Troy was sackt and burnd.
And then the Gods fell to their Fort, then they their powres imploy
To ruine their worke and left lesse of that than they of Troy.
Neptune and Phœbus tumbl'd downe from the Idalian hils
An inundation of all floods that thence the brode sea fils
On their huge rampire: in one glut all these together rorde,
Rhesus, Heptaporus, Rhodius, Scamander the adorde,
Caresus, Simois, Grenicus, Æsepus: of them all
Apollo open'd the rough mouths and made their lustie fall
Ravish the dustie champian where many a helme and shield
And halfe-god race of men were strew'd. And that all these might yeeld
Full tribute to the heavenly worke, Neptune and Phœbus wun
Jove to unburthen the blacke wombes of clouds (fild by the Sun)
And poure them into all their streames, that quickly they might send
The huge wall swimming to the Sea. Nine dayes their lights did spend
To nights in tempests, and, when all their utmost depth had made,
Jove, Phœbus, Neptune all came downe and all in state did wade
To ruine of that impious fort. Great Neptune went before,
Wrought with his trident, and the stones, trunkes, rootes of trees he tore
Out of the rampire, tost them all into the Hellespont,
Even all the prowd toile of the Greeks with which they durst confront
The to-be-shunned Deities, and not a stone remaind
Of all their huge foundations; all with the earth were plaind.
Which done, againe the Gods turnd backe the silver-flowing floods
By that vast channell through whose vaults they pourd abrode their broods
And coverd all the ample shore againe with dustie sand.
And this the end was of that wall, where now so many a hand
Was emptied of stones and darts, contending to invade,
Where Clamor spent so high a throate, and where the fell blowes made
The new-built woodden turrets grone. And here the Greeks were pent,
Tam'd with the iron whip of Jove, that terrors vehement
Shooke over them by Hector's hand, who was (in everie thought)
The terror-maister of the field and like a whirlewind fought,
As fresh as in his morn's first charge. And as a savage Bore
Or Lion, hunted long, at last with hounds' and hunters' store
Is compast round; they charge him close and stand (as in a towre
They had inchac't him) pouring on of darts an iron showre;
His glorious heart yet, nought appald and forcing forth his way,
Here overthrowes a troope and there a running ring doth stay
His utter passage when againe that stay he overthrowes,
And then the whole field frees his rage: so Hector wearies blowes,
Runs out his charge upon the Fort, and all his force would force
To passe the dike: which being so deepe, they could not get their horse
To venter on, but trample, snore and, on the verie brinke,
To neigh with spirit, yet still stand off. Nor would a humane thinke
The passage safe, or, if it were, twas lesse safe for retreate,
The dike being everie where so deep and (where twas least deep) set
With stakes exceeding thicke, sharpe, strong, that horse could never passe,
Much lesse their chariots after them: yet for the foote there was
Some hopefull service, which they wisht. Polydamas then spake:
‘Hector, and all our friends of Troy, we indiscreetly make
Offer of passage with our horse. Ye see the stakes, the wall,
Impossible for horse to take; nor can men fight at all,
The place being streight and much more apt to let us take our bane
Than give the enemie. And yet, if Jove decree the wane
Of Grecian glory utterly and so bereave their hearts
That we may freely charge them thus, and then will take our parts,
I would with all speed wish th' assault, that ugly shame might shed
(Thus farre from home) these Grecians' bloods. But, if they once turne head
And sallie on us from their fleet, when in so deepe a dike
We shall lie struggling, not a man of all our hoast is like
To live and carrie backe the newes. And, therefore, be it thus:
Here leave we horse, kept by our men, and all on foot let us
Hold close together and attend the grace of Hector's guide;
And then they shall not beare our charge, our conquest shall be dide
In their lives' purples.’ This advice pleasd Hector, for twas sound,
Who first obeyd it and full-arm'd betooke him to the ground.
And then all left their chariots when he was seene to leade,
Rushing about him, and gave up each chariot and steed
To their directors to be kept in all procinct of warre,
There, and on that side of the dike. And thus the rest prepare
Their onset. In five regiments they all their powre divide,
Each regiment allow'd three Chiefes, of all which even the pride
Serv'd in great Hector's Regiment—for all were set on fire
(Their passage beaten through the wall) with hazardous desire
That they might once but fight at fleete. With Hector Captaines were
Polydamas and Cebriones, who was his chariotere,
But Hector found that place a worse. Chiefes of the second band
Were Paris and Alcathous, Agenor. The command
The third strong Phalanx had was given to th' Augure Helenus,
Deiphobus, that God-like man, and mightie Asius,
Even Asius Hyrtacides that from Arisbe rode
The huge bay horse and had his house where river Selleës flowde.
The fourth charge good Æneas led, and with him were combinde
Archelochus and Acamas (Antenor's dearest kinde
And excellent at everie fight). The fifth brave companie
Sarpedon had to charge, who chusde for his command's supply
Asteropæus great in armes, and Glaucus, for both these
Were best of all men but himselfe: but he was fellowlesse.
Thus fitted with their well-wrought shields, downe the steepe dike they go,
And (thirstie of the wall's assault) beleeve in overthrow,
Not doubting but with headlong fals to tumble downe the Greeks
From their blacke navie. In which trust, all on, and no man seeks
To crosse Polydamas' advice with any other course
But Asius Hyrtacides, who (prowd of his bay horse)
Would not forsake them nor his man that was their manager
(Foole that he was), but all to fleete, and little knew how neare
An ill death sat him, and a sure, and that he never more
Must looke on loftie Ilion; but lookes, and all, before
Put on th' all-covering mist of Fate that then did hang upon
The lance of great Deucalides: he fatally rusht on
The left hand way by which the Greeks with horse and chariot
Came usually from field to fleet. Close to the gates he got,
Which both unbard and ope he found, that so the easier might
An entrie be for any friend that was behind in flight;
Yet not much easier for a foe, because there was a guard
Maintaind upon it past his thought—who still put for it hard,
Eagerly showting, and with him were five more friends of name
That would not leave him, though none else would hunt that way for fame
(In their free choice) but he himselfe. Orestes, Iamenus,
And Adamas Asiades, Thoon, OEnomaus
Were those that followed Asius. Within the gates they found
Two eminently valorous, that from the race renownd
Of the right valiant Lapithes deriv'd their high descent.
Fierce Leonteus was the one, like Mars in detriment;
The other mightie Polypœt, the great Pirithous' sonne.
These stood within the loftie gates, and nothing more did shun
The charge of Asius and his friends than two high hill-bred Okes,
Well-rooted in the binding earth, obey the airie strokes
Of wind and weather, standing firme gainst everie season's spight.
Yet they poure on continued showts and beare their shields upright:
When in the meane space Polypœt and Leonteus cheard
Their souldiers to the fleet's defence. But when the rest had heard
The Troyans in attempt to skale, Clamor and flight did flow
Amongst the Grecians; and then (the rest dismaid) these two
Met Asius entring, thrust him backe and fought before their doores.
Nor far'd they then like Okes that stood, but as a brace of Bores,
Coucht in their owne bred hill, that heare a sort of hunters showt
And hounds in hote traile coming on, then from their dens breake out,
Traverse their force and suffer not, in wildnesse of their way,
About them any plant to stand, but thickets, offering stay,
Breake through and rend up by the roots, whet gnashes into aire,
Which Tumult fils with showts, hounds, horns and all the hote affaire
Beates at their bosomes: so their armes rung with assailing blowes
And so they stird them in repulse, right well assur'd that those
Who were within and on the wall would adde their parts—who knew
They now fought for their tents, fleet, lives and fame, and therefore threw
Stones from the wals and towres as thicke as when a drift wind shakes
Blacke clouds in peeces and plucks snow in great and plumie flakes
From their soft bosomes, till the ground be wholly cloth'd in white.
So earth was hid with stones and darts—darts from the Troyan fight,
Stones from the Greeks, that on the helms and bossie Troyan shields
Kept such a rapping it amaz'd great Asius, who now yeelds
Sighes, beates his thighes and, in a rage, his fault to Jove applies:
‘O Jove,’ said he, ‘now cleare thou shew'st thou art a friend to lies,
Pretending in the flight of Greece the making of it good
To all their ruines, which I thought could never be withstood.
Yet they, as yellow Waspes or Bees (that having made their nest
The gasping Cranny of a hill) when for a hunter's feast
Hunters come hote and hungrie in and dig for honny Comes,
They flie upon them, strike and sting, and from their hollow homes
Will not be beaten but defend their labour's fruite and brood.
No more will these be from their port but either lose their blood
(Although but two against all us) or be our prisoners made.’
All this, to do his action grace, could not firme Jove perswade,
Who for the generall counsell stood and (gainst his singular brave)
Bestow'd on Hector that daie's fame. Yet he and these behave
Themselves thus nobly at this port: but how at other ports
And all alongst the stony wall sole force, gainst force and forts,
Rag'd in contention twixt both hoasts it were no easie thing
(Had I the bosome of a God) to tune to life and sing.
The Troyans fought not of themselves: a fire from heaven was throwne
That ran amongst them, through the wall, meere added to their owne.
The Greeks held not their owne: weake griefe went with her witherd hand
And dipt it deepely in their spirits since they could not command
Their forces to abide the field, whom harsh Necessitie
(To save those ships should bring them home) and their good forts' supply
Drave to th' expulsive fight they made, and this might stoope them more
Than Need it selfe could elevate, for even Gods did deplore
Their dire estates and all the Gods that were their aids in war,
Who (though they could not cleare their plights) yet were their friends thus far.
Still to uphold the better sort. For then did Polypœt passe
A lance at Damasus whose helme was made with cheekes of brasse
Yet had not proofe enough: the pyle drave through it and his skull:
His braine in blood drownd and the man, so late so spiritfull,
Fell now quite spirit-lesse to earth. So emptied he the veines
Of Pylon's and Ormenus' lives. And then Leonteus gaines
The life's end of Hippomachus, Antimachus his sonne:
His lance fell at his girdle stead and with his end begun
Another end. Leonteus left him and through the prease
(His keene sword drawne) ran desperatly upon Antiphates
And livelesse tumbled him to earth. Nor could all these lives quench
His fierie spirit that his flame in Menon's blood did drench,
And rag'd up even to Iamen's and yong Orestes' life.
All, heapt together, made their peace in that red field of strife,
Whose faire armes while the victors spoild, the youth of Ilion
(Of which there serv'd the most and best) still boldly built upon
The wisedome of Polydamas and Hector's matchlesse strength,
And follow'd, fild with wondrous spirit, with wish and hope at length
(The Greeks' wall wun) to fire their fleet. But (having past the dike
And willing now to passe the wall) this prodigie did strike
Their hearts with some deliberate stay. A high-flowne Eagle sorde
On their troope's left hand and sustaind a Dragon all engorde
In her strong seres, of wondrous sise and yet had no such checke
In life and spirit but still she fought and, turning backe her necke,
So stung the Eagle's gorge that downe she cast her fervent prey
Amongst the multitude and tooke upon the winds her way,
Crying with anguish. When they saw a branded Serpent sprawle
So full amongst them, from above and from Jove's fowle let fall,
They tooke it an ostent from him, stood frighted; and their cause
Polydamas thought just, and spake: ‘Hector, you know applause
Of humour hath bene farre from me, nor fits it, or in warre
Or in affaires of Court, a man imploid in publicke care
To blanch things further than their truth, or flatter any powre:
And therefore, for that simple course, your strength hath oft bene sowre
To me in counsels. Yet againe what shewes in my thoughts best
I must discover. Let us ceasse and make their flight our rest
For this daye's honor, and not now attempt the Grecian fleet.
For this (I feare) will be th' event—the prodigie doth meet
So full with our affaire in hand. As this high-flying fowle
Upon the left wing of our host (implying our controwle)
Hoverd above us and did trusse within her golden seres
A Serpent so embrew'd and bigge, which yet (in all her feares)
Kept life and fervent spirit to fight, and wrought her owne release,
Nor did the Eagle's Airie feed: so, though we thus farre prease
Upon the Grecians and perhaps may overrune their wall,
Our high minds aiming at their fleet, and that we much appall
Their trussed spirits, yet are they so Serpent-like disposd
That they will fight, though in our seres, and will at length be losd
With all our outcries: and the life of many a Troyan breast
Shall with the Eagle flie before we carrie to our nest
Them or their navie.’ Thus expounds the Augure this ostent,
Whose depth he knowes and these should feare. Hector, with countenance bent,
Thus answerd him: ‘Polydamas, your depth in augurie
I like not, and know passing well thou dost not satisfie
Thy selfe in this opinion or, if thou think'st it true,
Thy thoughts the Gods blind, to advise and urge that as our due
That breakes our duties, and to Jove, whose vow and signe to me
Is past directly for our speed; yet light-wingd birds must be
(By thy advice) our Oracles, whose feathers little stay
My serious actions. What care I if this or th' other way
Their wild wings sway them—if the right, on which the Sunne doth rise,
Or to the left hand, where he sets? Tis Jove's high counsell flies
With those wings that shall beare up us—Jove's, that both earth and heaven,
Both men and Gods, sustaines and rules. One augurie is given
To order all men best of all—fight for thy countrie's right.
But why fearst thou our further charge? For though the dangerous fight
Strew all men here about the fleet, yet thou needst never feare
To beare their Fates; thy warie heart will never trust thee where
An enemie's looke is and yet fight: for, if thou dar'st abstaine
Or whisper into any eare an abstinence so vaine
As thou advisest, never feare that any foe shall take
Thy life from thee, for tis this lance.’ This said, all forwards make,
Himselfe the first: yet before him exulting Clamor flew,
And thunder-loving Jupiter from loftie Ida blew
A storme that usherd their assault and made them charge like him.
It drave directly on the fleet a dust so fierce and dim
That it amaz'd the Grecians but was a grace divine
To Hector and his following troopes, who wholly did encline
To him, being now in grace with Jove, and so put boldly on
To raze the rampire, in whose height they fiercely set upon
The Parrapets and puld them downe, rac't every formost fight,
And all the Butteresses of stone that held their towers upright
They tore away with Crowes of Iron, and hop't to ruine all.
The Greeks yet stood and still repaird the forefights of their wall
With hides of Oxen, and from thence they pourd downe stones in showres
Upon the underminers' heads. Within the formost towres
Both the Ajaces had command, who answer'd everie part
Th' assaulters and their souldiers represt and put in heart,
Repairing valour as their wall—spake some faire, some reprov'd,
Who ever made not good his place; and thus they all sorts mov'd:
‘O countrimen, now need in aid would have excesse be spent;
The excellent must be admir'd, the meanest excellent;
The worst do well; in changing warre all should not be alike,
Nor any idle. Which to know fits all, lest Hector strike
Your minds with frights, as eares with threats. Forward be all your hands:
Urge one another: this doubt downe that now betwixt us stands,
Jove will go with us to their wals.’ To this effect alowd
Spake both the Princes, and as high (with this) th' expulsion flow'd.
And as in winter time when Jove his cold-sharpe javelines throwes
Amongst us mortals and is mov'd to white earth with his snowes
(The winds asleepe) he freely poures, till highest Prominents,
Hill tops, low meddowes and the fields that crowne with most contents
The toiles of men, sea ports and shores are hid, and everie place
But floods (that snowe's faire tender flakes, as their owne brood, embrace):
So both sides coverd earth with stones, so both for life contend
To shew their sharpnesse. Through the wall, uprore stood up on end.
Nor had great Hector and his friends the rampire overrun
If heaven's great Counsellour, high Jove, had not inflam'd his sonne
Sarpedon (like the forrest's king when he on Oxen flies)
Against the Grecians: his round targe he to his arme applies,
Brasse-leav'd without and all within thicke Oxe-hides quilted hard,
The verge naild round with rods of gold; and with two darts prepard
He leades his people. As ye see a mountaine Lion fare,
Long kept from prey, in forcing which his high mind makes him dare
Assault upon the whole full fold, though guarded never so
With well-arm'd men and eager dogs—away he will not go
But venture on and either snatch a prey or be a prey:
So far'd divine Sarpedon's mind, resolv'd to force his way
Through all the fore-fights and the wall. Yet, since he did not see
Others as great as he in name, as great in mind as he,
He spake to Glaucus: ‘Glaucus, say why are we honord more
Than other men of Lycia in place—with greater store
Of meates and cups, with goodlier roofes, delightsome gardens, walks,
More lands and better, so much wealth that Court and countrie talks
Of us and our possessions and every way we go
Gaze on us as we were their Gods? This where we dwell is so:
The shores of Xanthus ring of this: and shall not we exceed
As much in merit as in noise? Come, be we great in deed
As well as looke, shine not in gold but in the flames of fight,
That so our neat-arm'd Lycians may say: “See, these are right
Our kings, our Rulers: these deserve to eate and drinke the best;
These governe not ingloriously; these thus exceed the rest,
Do more than they command to do.” O friend, if keeping backe
Would keepe backe age from us, and death, and that we might not wracke
In this life's humane sea at all, but that deferring now
We shund death ever—nor would I halfe this vaine valour show,
Nor glorifie a folly so, to wish thee to advance:
But, since we must go though not here, and that, besides the chance
Proposd now, there are infinite fates of other sort in death
Which (neither to be fled nor scap't) a man must sinke beneath—
Come, trie we if this sort be ours and either render thus
Glorie to others or make them resigne the like to us.’
This motion Glaucus shifted not but (without words) obeyd.
Fore-right went both: a mightie troope of Lycians followed.
Which by Menestheus observ'd, his haire stood up on end,
For at the towre where he had charge he saw Calamitie bend
Her horrid browes in their approch. He threw his looks about
The whole fights neare, to see what Chiefe might helpe the miserie out
Of his poore souldiers, and beheld where both th' Ajaces fought,
And Teucer, newly come from fleete, whom it would profit nought
To call, since Tumult on their helmes, shields and upon the ports
Laid such lowde claps; for everie way defences of all sorts
Were adding as Troy tooke away, and Clamor flew so high
Her wings strooke heaven and drownd all voice. The two Dukes yet so nigh
And at the offer of assault he to th' Ajaces sent
Thoos the herald with this charge: ‘Run to the regiment
Of both th' Ajaces and call both, for both were better here
Since here will slaughter instantly be more enforc't than there.
The Lycian Captaines this way make, who in the fights of stand
Have often shew'd much excellence: yet if laborious hand
Be there more needfull than I hope, at least afford us some:
Let Ajax Telamonius and th' Archer Teucer come.’
The Herald hasted and arriv'd, and both th' Ajaces told
That Peteus' noble sonne desir'd their little labour would
Employ it selfe in succouring him. Both their supplies were best
Since death assaild his quarter most, for on it fiercely prest
The well-prov'd mightie Lycian Chiefs. Yet if the service there
Allowd not both, he praid that one part of his charge would beare
And that was Ajax Telamon, with whom he wisht would come
The Archer Teucer. Telamon left instantly his roome
To strong Lycomedes and will'd Ajax Oiliades
With him to make up his supply and fill with courages
The Grecian hearts till his returne, which should be instantly
When he had well reliev'd his friend. With this, the companie
Of Teucer he tooke to his aide—Teucer that did descend
(As Ajax did) from Telamon: with these two did attend
Pandion that bore Teucer's bow. When to Menestheus' towre
They came alongst the wall, they found him and his heartned powre
Toyling in making strong their fort. The Lycian Princes set
Blacke-whirlwind-like, with both their powers, upon the Parapet.
Ajax, and all, resisted them. Clamor amongst them rose.
The slaughter Ajax led, who first the last deare sight did close
Of strong Epicles, that was friend to Jove's great Lycian sonne.
Amongst the high munition heape a mightie marble stone
Lay highest, neare the Pinnacle—a stone of such a paise
That one of this time's strongest men with both hands could not raise.
Yet this did Ajax rowse and throw, and all in sherds did drive
Epicles' foure-topt caske and skull, who (as ye see one dive
In some deepe river) left his height: life left his bones withall.
Teucer shot Glaucus (rushing up yet higher on the wall)
Where naked he discernd his arme, and made him steale retreat
From that hote service, lest some Greeke, with an insulting thread
(Beholding it) might fright the rest. Sarpedon much was griev'd
At Glaucus' parting, yet fought on, and his great heart reliev'd
A little with Alcmaon's blood, surnamed Thestorides,
Whose life he hurld out with his lance, which, following through the prease,
He drew from him. Downe from the towre Alcmaon dead it strooke,
His faire armes ringing out his death. Then fierce Sarpedon tooke
In his strong hand the battlement and downe he tore it quite,
The wall stript naked and brode way for entrie and full fight
He made the many. Against him Ajax and Teucer made.
Teucer the rich belt on his breast did with a shaft invade,
But Jupiter averted death, who would not see his sonne
Die at the tailes of th' Achive ships. Ajax did fetch his run
And (with his lance) strooke through the targe of that brave Lycian King,
Yet kept he it from further passe, nor did it any thing
Dismay his mind, although his men stood off from that high way
His valour made them, which he kept and hop'd that stormie day
Should ever make his glorie cleare. His men's fault thus he blam'd:
‘O Lycians, why are your hote spirits so quickly disinflam'd?
Suppose me ablest of you all: tis hard for me alone
To ruine such a wall as this and make Confusion
Way to their Navie. Lend your hands. What many can dispatch
One cannot thinke: the noble worke of many hath no match.’
The wise king's just rebuke did strike a reverence to his will
Through all his souldiers: all stood in and gainst all th' Achives still
Made strong their Squadrons, insomuch that to the adverse side
The worke shewd mightie, and the wall, when twas within descride,
No easie service. Yet the Greeks could neither free their wall
Of these brave Lycians, that held firme the place they first did skale,
Nor could the Lycians from their fort the sturdie Grecians drive
Nor reach their fleet. But as two men about the limits strive
Of land that toucheth in a field, their measures in their hands,
They mete their parts out curiously and either stiffely stands
That so farre is his right in law, both hugely set on fire
About a passing little ground: so greedily aspire
Both these foes to their severall ends and all exhaust their most
About the verie battlements (for yet no more was lost).
With sword and fire they vext for them, their targes hugely round,
With Oxehides lin'd, and bucklers light; and many a ghastly wound
The sterne steele gave for that one prise; whereof though some receiv'd
Their portions on their naked backs, yet others were bereav'd
Of brave lives, face-turnd, through their shields. Towres, bulwarks every where
Were freckled with the blood of men, nor yet the Greeks did beare
Base back-turnd faces, nor their foes would therefore be outfac't.
But as a Spinster poore and just ye sometimes see straight-lac't
About the weighing of her web, who (carefull), having charge
For which she would provide some meanes, is loth to be too large
In giving or in taking weight, but ever with her hand
Is doing with the weights and wooll, till both in just paise stand:
So evenly stood it with these foes till Jove to Hector gave
The turning of the skoles, who first against the rampire drave
And spake so lowd that all might heare: ‘O stand not at the pale,
Brave Troyan friends, but mend your hands! Up, and breake through the wall
And make a bonfire of their fleet.’ All heard, and all in heapes
Got skaling ladders, and aloft. In meane space, Hector leapes
Upon the port, from whose cut-part he tore a massie stone,
Thicke downwards, upward edg'd it was: it was so huge an one
That two vast yoemen of most strength (such as these times beg
Could not from earth lift to a Cart. Yet he did brandish it
Alone (Saturnius made it light) and, swinging it as nought,
He came before the plankie gates, that all for strength were wrought
And kept the Port: two-fold they were and with two rafters bard
High and strong lockt. He raisd the stone, bent to the hurle so hard
And made it with so maine a strength that all the gates did cracke,
The rafters left them and the folds one from another brake,
The hinges peece-meale flew, and through the fervent little rocke
Thundred a passage. With his weight th' inwall his breast did knocke
And in rusht Hector, fierce and grimme as any stormie night:
His brasse armes round about his breast reflected terrible light.
Each arme held up held each a dart: his presence cald up all
The dreadfull spirits his Being held, that to the threatned wall
None but the Gods might checke his way: his eyes were furnaces.
And thus he look't backe, cald in all: all fir'd their courages
And in they flow'd. The Grecians fled—their fleet now and their freight
Askt all their rescue. Greece went downe: Tumult was at his height.