Book 15
The Troyans (beate past pale and dike, and numbers prostrate laide)
All got to chariot, feare-driven all; and fear'd as men dismaide.
Then Jove, on Ida's top, awakt, rose from Saturnia's side,
Stood up, and lookt upon the warre: and all inverted spide,
Since he had seene it, th' Ilians now in rowt, the Greeks in fight;
King Neptune, with his long sword, Chiefe; great Hector put downe quite,
Laide flat in field, and with a crowne of Princes compassed,
So stopt up that he scarce could breath, his mind's sound habite fled
And he still spitting blood. Indeed, his hurt was not set on
By one that was the weakest Greeke. But him Jove lookt upon
With eyes of pittie, on his wife with horrible aspect,
To whom he said: ‘O thou in ill most cunning Architect,
All Arts and comments that exceedst! not onely to enforce
Hector from fight, but with his men to shew the Greeks a course.
I feare (as formerly so now) these ils have with thy hands
Their first fruits sowne, and therefore could lode all thy lims with bands.
Forgetst thou, when I hangd thee up, how to thy feete I tyed
Two Anvils, golden manacles on thy false wrists implied,
And let thee mercilesly hang from our refined heaven
Even to earth's vapors; all the gods in great Olympus given
To mutinies about thee, yet (though all stood staring on)
None durst dissolve thee; for these hands (had they but seisd upon
Thy friend) had headlong throwne him off from our star-bearing round
Till he had tumbl'd out his breath and peecemeale dasht the ground.
Nor was my angry spirit calm'd so soone for those foule seas
On which (inducing Northerne flawes) thou shipwrack'dst Hercules
And tost him to the Coan shore, that thou shouldst tempt againe
My wrath's importance, when thou seest (besides) how grosly vaine
My powres can make thy policies: for from their utmost force
I freed my sonne and set him safe in Argos, nurse of horse.
These I remember to thy thoughts, that thou mayst shun these sleights
And know how badly bed-sports thrive, procur'd by base deceits.’
This frighted the offending Queene, who with this state excusde
Her kind unkindnesse: ‘Witnesse earth and heaven, so farre diffusde,
Thou Flood whose silent-gliding waves the under ground doth beare,
(Which is the great'st and gravest oath that any god can sweare)
Thy sacred head, those secret joyes that our yong bed gave forth
(By which I never rashly swore), that he who shakes the earth
Not by my counsell did this wrong to Hector and his host;
But (pittying th' oppressed Greekes, their fleete being neerly lost)
Reliev'd their hard condition, yet utterly impeld
By his free mind. Which since I see is so offensive held
To thy high pleasure, I will now advise him not to tread
But where thy tempest-raising feete, O Jupiter, shall leade.’
Jove laught to heare her so submisse, and said: ‘My faire-eyd love,
If still thus thou and I were one (in counsels held above),
Neptune would still in word and fact be ours, if not in heart.
If then thy tongue and heart agree, from hence to heaven depart
To call the excellent in bowes, the Raine-bow, and the Sunne,
That both may visite both the hosts—the Grecian armie, one,
And that is Iris, let her haste and make the sea-god cease
T' assist the Greekes and to his court retire from warre, in peace.
Let Phœbus (on the Troyan part) inspire with wonted powre
Great Hector's spirits, make his thoughts forget the late sterne houre
And all his anguish, setting on his whole recover'd man
To make good his late grace in fight, and hold in constant wane
The Grecian glories, till they fall in flight before the fleete
Of vext Achilles. Which extreme will prove the meane to greete
Thee with thy wish, for then the eyes of great Æacides
(Made witnesse of the generall ill that doth so neare him prease)
Will make his owne particular looke out and by degrees
Abate his wrath, that though himselfe for no extremities
Will seeme reflected, yet his friend may get of him the grace
To helpe his countrey in his Armes; and he shall make fit place
For his full presence with his death, which shall be well forerunne:
For I will first renowne his life with slaughter of my sonne,
Divine Sarpedon, and his death great Hector's powre shall wreake,
Ending his ends. Then, at once, out shall the furie breake
Of fierce Achilles, and with that the flight now felt shall turne,
And then last till in wrathfull flames the long-sieg'd Ilion burne.
Minerva's counsell shall become grave meane to this my will,
Which no god shall neglect before Achilles take his fill
Of slaughter for his slaughterd friend—even Hector's slaughter throwne
Under his anger—that these facts may then make fully knowne
My vowe's performance, made of late and with my bowed head
Confirm'd to Thetis, when her armes embrac't my knees and praid
That to her citie-racing sonne I would all honour shew.’
This heard, his charge she seem'd t'intend and to Olympus flew.
But, as the mind of such a man that hath a great way gone
And, either knowing not his way, or then would let alone
His purposde journey, is distract and in his vexed mind
Resolves now not to go, now goes, still many wayes inclin'd:
So reverend Juno headlong flew, and gainst her stomacke striv'd.
For (being amongst th' immortall gods in high heaven soone arriv'd,
All rising, welcoming with cups her litle absence thence)
She all their courtships overpast with solemne negligence,
Save that which faire-cheekt Themis shewd, and her kind cup she tooke.
For first, she ranne and met with her, and askt: What troubled looke
She brought to heaven? She thought (for truth) that Jove had terrified
Her spirits strangely, since she went. The faire-arm'd Queene replide:
‘That truth may easily be supposde: you, goddesse Themis, know
His old severitie and pride, but you bear't out with show,
And like the banquet's arbiter amongst th' Immortals fare,
Though well you heare amongst them all how bad his actions are.
Nor are all here, nor any where, mortals nor gods, (I feare)
Entirely pleasd with what he does, though thus ye banquet here.’
Thus tooke she place displeasedly, the feast in generall
Bewraying privie splenes at Jove; and then (to colour all)
She laught, but meerly from her lips, for over her blacke browes
Her still-bent forehead was not cleer'd; yet this her passion's throwes
Brought forth in spight, being lately school'd: ‘Alas, what fooles are we
That envie Jove, or that by act, word, thought can fantasie
Any resistance to his will. He sits farre off, nor cares,
Nor moves, but sayes he knowes his strength, to all degrees compares
His greatnesse past all other gods, and that in fortitude
And every other godlike powre he reignes past all indude.
For which great eminence all you Gods, what ever ill he does,
Sustaine with patience. Here is Mars, I thinke, not free from woes,
And yet he beares them like himselfe. The great God had a sonne
Whom he himselfe yet justifies, one that from all men wonne
Just surname of their best belov'd, Ascalaphus; yet he
(By Jove's high grace to Troy) is slaine.’ Mars started horribly
(As Juno knew he would) at this, beate with his hurld-out hands
His brawnie thighes, cried out, and said: ‘O you that have commands
In these high temples, beare with me if I revenge the death
Of such a sonne. I'le to the fleete, and though I sinke beneath
The fate of being shot to hell by Jove's fell thunder stone
And lie all grim'd amongst the dead with dust and bloud, my sonne
Revenge shall honour.’ Then he charg'd Feare and Dismay to joyne
His horse and chariot: he got armes, that over heaven did shine,
And then a wrath more great and grave in Jove had bene prepar'd
Against the gods than Juno causde, if Pallas had not car'd
More for the peace of heaven than Mars; who leapt out of her throne,
Rapt up her helmet, lance, and shield, and made her Phanes' porch grone
With her egression to his stay, and thus his rage defers:
‘Furious and foolish, th' art undone! Hast thou for nought thine eares?
Heard'st thou not Juno, being arriv'd from heaven's great king but now?
Or wouldst thou he himselfe should rise (forc't with thy rage) to show
The dreadfull powre she urg'd in him, so justly being stird?
Know (thou most impudent and mad) thy wrath had not inferd
Mischiefe to thee, but to us all: his spirit had instantly
Left both the hosts and turn'd his hands to uprores in the skie.
Guiltie and guiltlesse both to wracke in his high rage had gone.
And therefore (as thou lovest thy selfe) ceasse furie for thy sonne.
Another, farre exceeding him in heart and strength of hand,
Or is, or will be shortly slaine. It were a worke would stand
Jove in much trouble to free all from death that would not die.’
This threat even nail'd him to his throne, when heaven's chiefe Majestie
Cald bright Apollo from his Phane and Iris that had place
Of Internunciesse from the Gods; to whom she did the grace
Of Jupiter to this effect: ‘It is Saturnius’ will
That both, with utmost speed, should stoope to the Idalian hill
To know his further pleasure there. And this let me advise,
When you arrive and are in reach of his refulgent eyes,
His pleasure heard, performe it all, of whatsoever kind.’
Thus mov'd she backe, and usde her throne. Those two outstript the wind,
And Ida (all enchac't with springs) they soone attaind and found
Where farre-discerning Jupiter, in his repose, had crown'd
The browes of Gargarus and wrapt an odoriferous cloud
About his bosome. Coming neare, they stood, nor now he show'd
His angry countenance since so soone he saw they made th' accesse
That his lov'd wife enjoyn'd. But first, the faire Ambassadresse
He thus commanded: ‘Iris, go to Neptune, and relate
Our pleasure truly and at large; command him from the Fate
Of humane warre, and either greete the gods' societie
Or the divine sea make his seate. If proudly he denie,
Let better counsels be his guides than such as bid me warre
And tempt my charge, though he be strong; for I am stronger farre
And elder borne: nor let him dare to boast even state with me,
Whom all Gods else preferre in feare.’ This said, downe hasted she
From Ida's top to Ilion. And like a mightie snow
Or gelide haile that from the clouds the Northerne spirit doth blow,
So fell the windie-footed Dame, and found with quicke repaire
The watrie God, to whom she said: ‘God with the sable haire,
I come from Ægis-bearing Jove to bid thee ceasse from fight
And visite heaven or th' ample seas; which, if in his despight
Or disobedience, thou deniest, he threatens thee to come
(In opposite fight) to field himselfe—and therefore warnes thee home,
His hands eschewing, since his powre is farre superiour,
His birth before thee, and affirmes thy lov'd heart should abhorre
To vaunt equalitie with him, whom every deitie feares.’
He answerd: ‘O unworthy thing! though he be great, he beares
His tongue too proudly, that our selfe, borne to an equall share
Of state and freedome, he would force. Three brothers borne we are
To Saturne; Rhea brought us forth—this Jupiter and I
And Pluto, god of under-grounds. The world indifferently
Disposde betwixt us; every one his kingdome; I, the seas;
Pluto, the blacke lot; Jupiter, the principalities
Of broad heaven, all the skie and clouds, was sorted out: the earth
And high Olympus common are and due to either's birth.
Why then should I be aw'd by him? Content he his great heart
With his third portion and not thinke to amplifie his part
With terrors of his stronger hands on me, as if I were
The most ignoble of us all. Let him containe in feare
His daughters and his sonnes, begot by his owne person: this
Holds more convenience: they must heare these violent threats of his.’
‘Shall I,’ said Iris, ‘beare from thee an answer so austere?
Or wilt thou change it? Changing minds all noble natures beare:
And well thou know'st these greatest borne the Furies follow still.’
He answerd: ‘Iris, thy reply keepes time, and shewes thy skill.
O tis a most praise-worthy thing when messengers can tell
(Besides their messages) such things as fit th' occasion well.
But this much grieves my heart and soule, that being in powre and state
All wayes his equall and so fixt by one decree in fate,
He should to me, as under him, ill language give and chide.
Yet now (though still incenst) I yeeld, affirming this beside—
And I enforce it with a threat—that if without consent
Of me, Minerva, Mercurie, the Queene of regiment,
And Vulcan, he will either spare high Ilion or not race
Her turrets to the lowest stone, and (with both these) not grace
The Greekes as victors absolute, informe him this from me,
His pride and my contempt shall live at endlesse enmitie.’
This said, he left the Greeks and rusht into his watrie throne,
Much mist of all th' heroicke host. When Jove discern'd him gone,
Apollo's service he employd, and said: ‘Lov'd Phœbus, go
To Hector: now th' earth-shaking god hath taken sea and so
Shrunke from the horrors I denounc't, which standing, he and all
The under-seated deities that circle Saturne's fall
Had heard of me in such a fight as had gone hard for them.
But both for them and me tis best that thus they flie th' extreme
That had not past us without sweate. Now then, in thy hands take
My Adder-fring'd affrighting shield, which with such terror shake
That Feare may shake the Greekes to flight: besides this, adde thy care
(O Phœbus, farre-off-shooting god) that this so sickly fare
Of famous Hector be recur'd, and quickly so excite
His amplest powres that all the Greeks may grace him with their flight
Even to their ships and Hellespont; and then will I devise
All words and facts againe for Greece, that largely may suffice
To breathe them from their instant toiles.’ Thus from th' Idæan height
(Like ayre's swift pigeon-killer) stoupt the far-shot God of light,
And found great Hector sitting up, not stretcht upon his bed,
Not wheasing with a stopt-up spirit, not in cold sweates, but fed
With fresh and comfortable veines, but his mind all his owne,
But round about him all his friends as well as ever knowne.
And this was with the mind of Jove, that flew to him before
Apollo came, who (as he saw no signe of any sore)
Askt (like a chearfull visitant): ‘Why in this sickly kind,
Great Hector, sitst thou so apart? Can any griefe of mind
Invade thy fortitude?’ He spake, but with a feeble voice:
‘O thou, the best of deities! Why (since I thus rejoyce
By thy so serious benefite) demandst thou (as in mirth,
And to my face) if I were ill? For (more than what thy worth
Must needs take note of) doth not Fame from all mouthes fill thine eares,
That (as my hand at th' Achive fleete was making massacres
Of men whom valiant Ajax led) his strength strooke with a stone
All powre of more hurt from my brest? My very soule was gone,
And once to day I thought to see the house of Dis and Death.’
‘Be strong,’ said he, ‘for such a spirit now sends the god of breath
From airie Ida as shall runne through all Greeke spirits in thee.
Apollo with the golden sword, the cleare farre-seer, see,
Him who betwixt death and thy life, twixt ruine and those towres,
Ere this day oft hath held his shield. Come then, be all thy powres
In wonted vigour: let thy knights, with all their horse assay
The Grecian fleete; my selfe will leade and scoure so cleare the way
That Flight shall leave no Greeke a Rub.’ Thus instantly inspir'd
Were all his nerves with matchlesse strength, and then his friends he fir'd
Against their foes, when (to his eyes) his eares confirm'd the god.
Then, as a goodly-headed Hart, or Goate, bred in the wood,
A rout of country huntsmen chase with all their hounds in crie,
The beast yet or the shadie woods or rocks excessive hie
Keepe safe, or our unwieldie fates (that even in hunters sway)
Barre them the poore beast's pulling downe, when straight the clamorous fray
Cals out a Lion hugely man'd, and his abhorred view
Turnes headlong in unturning flight (though ventrous) all the crew:
So hitherto the chasing Greeks their slaughter dealt by troupes,
But, after Hector was beheld, range here and there. Then stoupes
The boldest courage, then their heeles tooke in their dropping harts,
And then spake Andræmonides, a man of farre-best parts
Of all th' Ætolians, skild in darts, strenuous in fights of stand,
And one of whom few of the Greekes could get the better hand
(For Rhetorique) which they fought with words; with all which being wise,
Thus spake he to his Grecian friends: ‘O mischiefe! Now mine eyes
Discerne no litle miracle—Hector escapt from death
And all recoverd, when all thought his soule had sunke beneath
The hands of Ajax. But some God hath sav'd and freed againe
Him that but now dissolv'd the knees of many a Grecian
And now I feare will weaken more; for not without the hand
Of him that thunders can his powres thus still the forefights stand,
Thus still triumphant. Heare me then: our troupes in quicke retreate
Let's draw up to our fleete, and we that boast our selves the Great
Stand firme and trie if these that raise so high their charging darts
May be resisted. I beleeve even this great heart of harts
Will feare himselfe to be too bold in charging thorow us.’
They easely heard him, and obeyd; when all the generous
They cald t' encounter Hector's charge and turn'd the common men
Backe to the fleete. And these were they that bravely furnisht then
The fierce forefight—th' Ajaces both, the worthy Cretan king,
The Mars-like Meges, Merion, and Teucer. Up then bring
The Troyan chiefes their men in heapes, before whom (amply pac't)
Marcht Hector, and in front of him Apollo, who had cast
About his bright aspect a cloud and did before him beare
Jove's huge and each-where shaggie shield, which (to containe in feare
Offending men) the god-smith gave to Jove: with this he led
The Troyan forces. The Greeks stood. A fervent clamor spred
The aire on both sides as they joyn'd; out flew the shafts and darts,
Some falling short, but othersome found buts in brests and harts.
As long as Phœbus held but out his horrid shield, so long
The darts flew raging either way, and death grew both wayes strong.
But when the Greeks had seene his face and who it was that shooke
The bristled targe knew by his voice, then all their strengths forsooke
Their nerves and minds. And then looke how a goodly herd of Neate,
Or wealthy flocke of sheepe, being close and dreadlesse at their meate,
In some blacke midnight sodainly (and not a keeper neere)
A brace of horrid Beares rush in, and then flie here and there
The poore affrighted flocks or herds; so every way disperst
The heartlesse Grecians, so the Sunne their headstrong chace reverst
To headlong flight, and that day raisde, with all grace, Hector's head.
Arcesilaus then he slue, and Stichius; Stichius led
Bœotia's brazen-coted men; the other was the friend
Of mightie-soul'd Menestheus. Æneas brought to end
Medon and Jasus; Medon was the brother (though but base)
Of swift Oiliades, and dwelt farre from his breeding place
In Phylace; the other led th' Athenian bands, his Sire
Was Sphelus, Bucolus his sonne, Mecisteus did expire
Beneath Polydamas his hand. Polites, Echius slew
Just at the joyning of the hosts. Agenor overthrew
Clonius. Bold Deiochus felt Alexander's lance;
It strooke his shoulder's upper part and did his head advance
Quite through his brest, as from the fight he turn'd him for retreat.
While these stood spoiling of the slaine, the Greeks found time to get
Beyond the dike and th' undik't pales: all scapes they gladly gain'd
Till all had past the utmost wall: Necessitie so raign'd.
Then Hector cried out: ‘Take no spoile, but rush on to the fleete,
From whose assault (for spoile or flight) if any man I meete,
He meets his death: nor in the fire of holy funerall
His brother's or his sister's hands shall cast (within our wall)
His lothed body, but, without, the throtes of dogs shall grave
His manlesse lims.’ This said, the scourge his forward horses drave
Through every order, and with him all whipt their chariots on,
All threatningly out thundering shouts as earth were overthrowne.
Before them marcht Apollo still, and, as he marcht, digd downe
(Without all labour) with his feete the dike, till with his owne
He fild it to the top and made way both for man and horse
As broade and long as with a lance (cast out to trie one's force)
A man could measure. Into this they powr'd whole troupes as fast
As numerous, Phœbus still before, for all their hast,
Still shaking Jove's unvalewed shield, and held it up to all.
And then as he had chok't their dike he tumbl'd downe their wall.
And looke how easely any boy upon the sea-ebd shore
Makes with a litle sand a toy and cares for it no more,
But as he raisd it childishly, so in his wanton vaine
Both with his hands and feete he puls and spurnes it downe againe:
So sleight, O Phœbus, thy hands made of that huge Grecian toile
And their late stand, so well resolv'd, as easely mad'st recoile.
Thus stood they driven up at their fleete, where each heard other's thought
Exhorted, passing humbly prayd, all, all the gods besought
(With hands held up to heaven) for helpe. Mongst all the good old man,
Grave Nestor (for his counsels cald the Argives' guardian),
Fell on his aged knees and prayd, and to the starrie host
Stretcht out his hands for ayd to theirs, of all thus moving most:
‘O father Jove, if ever man of all our host did burne
Fat thighes of oxen or of sheepe (for grace of safe returne)
In fruitfull Argos, and obtaind the bowing of thy head
For promise of his humble prayers, O now remember him,
Thou meerly heavenly, and cleare up the foule browes of this dim
And cruell day; do not destroy our zeale for Troyan pride.’
He prayd, and heaven's great Counsellor with store of thunder tride
His former grace good, and so heard the old man's heartie prayres.
The Troyans tooke Jove's signe for them, and powr'd out their affaires
In much more violence on the Greeks and thought on nought but fight.
And as a huge wave of a sea, swolne to his rudest height,
Breakes over both sides of a ship, being all urg'd by the wind,
For that's it makes the wave so proud in such a borne-up kind,
The Troyans overgat the wall and, getting in their horse,
Fought close at fleete, which now the Greeks ascended for their force.
Then from their chariots they with darts, the Greeks with bead-hooks fought
(Kept still aboord for navall fights), their heads with iron wrought
In hookes and pikes. Achilles' friend still while he saw the wall
That stood without their fleete affoord employment for them all
Was never absent from the tent of that man-loving Greeke,
Late-hurt Eurypylus, but sate and every way did seeke
To spend the sharpe time of his wound with all the ease he could
In medicines and in kind discourse: but when he might behold
The Troyans past the wall, the Greekes flight driven and all in cries,
Then cride he out, cast downe his hands and beate with griefe his thighes:
Then, ‘O Eurypylus,’ he cride, ‘now all thy need of me
Must beare my absence: now a worke of more necessitie
Cals hence, and I must hast to call Achilles to the field.
Who knowes but (God assisting me) my words may make him yeeld?
The motion of a friend is strong.’ His feete thus tooke him thence.
The rest yet stood their enemies firme, but all their violence
(Though Troy fought there with fewer men) lackt vigor to repell
Those fewer from their Navie's charge, and so that charge as well
Lackt force to spoile their fleete or tents. And as a shipwright's line
(Disposde by such a hand as learn'd from th' Artizan divine
The perfect practise of his Art) directs or guards so well
The navall timber then in frame that all the layd-on steele
Can hew no further than may serve to give the timber th' end
Fore-purposde by the skilfull wright: so both hosts did contend
With such a line or law applide to what their steele would gaine.
At other ships fought other men, but Hector did maintaine
His quarrell firme at Ajax' ship, and so did both employ
About one vessell all their toyle: nor could the one destroy
The ship with fire nor force the man, nor that man yet get gone
The other from so neare his ship; for God had brought him on.
But now did Ajax with a dart wound deadly in the brest
Caletor, sonne of Clytius, as he with fire addrest
To burne the vessell; as he fell, the brand fell from his hand.
When Hector saw his sister's sonne lie slaughterd in the sand
He cald to all his friends and prayd they would not in that streight
Forsake his nephew but maintaine about his corse the fight
And save it from the spoile of Greece. Then sent he out a lance
At Ajax in his nephewe's wreake, which mist but made the chance
On Lycophron Mastorides, that was the houshold friend
Of Ajax, borne in Cythera, whom Ajax did defend
(Being fled to his protection) for killing of a man
Amongst the god-like Cytherans. The vengefull Javelin ran
Quite through his head above his eare as he was standing by
His Fautor, then asterne his ship, from whence his soule did flie
And to the earth his body fell. The haire stood up an end
On Ajax, who to Teucer cald (his brother) saying: ‘Friend,
Our loved consort, whom we brought from Cythera and grac't
So like our father, Hector's hand hath made him breathe his last.
Where then are all thy death-borne shafts and that unvallewed bow
Apollo gave thee?’ Teucer strait his brother's thoughts did know,
Stood neare him and dispatcht a shaft amongst the Troyan fight
It strooke Pisenor's goodly sonne, yong Cleitus, the delight
Of the renowm'd Polydamas, the bridle in his hand,
As he was labouring his horse to please the high command
Of Hector and his Troyan friends and bring him where the fight
Made greatest tumult. But his strife for honour in their sight
Wrought not what sight or wishes helpt; for, turning backe his looke,
The hollow of his necke the shaft came singing on, and strooke,
And downe he fell; his horses backe and hurried through the field
The emptie chariot. Panthus' sonne made all haste and withheld
Their loose carier, disposing them to Protiaon's sonne,
Astynous, with speciall charge to keepe them ever on
And in his sight: so he againe amongst the foremost went.
At Hector then another shaft incensed Teucer sent,
Which, had it hit him, sure had hurt and, had it hurt him, slaine—
And had it slaine him, it had driven all those to Troy againe.
But Jove's mind was not sleeping now; it wak't to Hector's fame
And Teucer's infamie, himselfe (in Teucer's deadly aime)
His well-wrought string dissevering that serv'd his bravest bow:
His shaft flew quite another way, his bow the earth did strow.
At all which, Teucer stood amaz'd and to his brother cride:
‘O prodigie! Without all doubt our Angell doth deride
The counsels of our fight; he brake a string my hands put on
This morning and was newly made and well might have set gone
A hundred arrowes; and beside, he strooke out of my hand
The bow Apollo gave.’ He sayd: ‘Then, good friend, do not stand
More on thy archerie, since God (preventer of all grace
Desir'd by Grecians) sleights it so. Take therefore in the place
A good large lance, and on thy necke a target cast as bright;
With which, come fight thy selfe with some and othersome excite,
That without labour at the least (though we prove worser men)
Troy may not brag it tooke our ships: come, mind our businesse then.’
This said, he hasted to his tent, left there his shafts and bow,
And then his double, double shield, did on his shoulders throw,
Upon his honor'd head he plac't his helmet, thickly plum'd,
And then his strong and well-pilde lance in his faire hand assum'd,
Return'd, and boldly tooke his place by his great brother's side.
When Hector saw his arrowes broke, out to his friends he cride:
‘O friends, be yet more comforted! I saw the hands of Jove
Breake the great Grecian archer's shafts. Tis easie to approve
That Jove's powre is direct with men, as well in those set hie
Upon the sodaine as in those deprest as sodainly,
And those not put in state at all—as now he takes away
Strength from the Greeks and gives it us. Then use it, and assay
With joyn'd hands this approched fleete. If any bravely buy
His fame or fate with wounds or death, in Jove's name let him die.
Who for his country suffers death sustaines no shamefull thing:
His wife in honour shall survive, his progenie shall spring
In endlesse summers and their roofes with patrimonie swell;
And all this, though, with all their freight, the Greeke ships we repell.’
His friends thus cheer'd, on th' other part strong Ajax stird his friends:
‘O Greeks,’ said he, ‘what shame is this that no man more defends
His fame and safetie than to live, and thus be forc't to shrinke!
Now either save your fleet, or die—unlesse ye vainly thinke
That you can live and they destroyd? Perceives not every eare
How Hector hartens up his men and hath his firebrands here
Now ready to enflame our fleet? He doth not bid them dance,
That you may take your ease and see, but to the fight advance.
No counsell can serve us but this—to mixe both hands and harts
And beare up close; tis better much t' expose our utmost parts
To one daie's certaine life or death than languish in a warre
So base as this, beate to our ships by our inferiours farre.’
Thus rowsd he up their spirits and strengths. To work then both sides went,
When Hector, the Phocensian Duke, to fields of darknesse sent
Fierce Schedius, Perimedes' sonne; which Ajax did requite
With slaughter of Laodamas, that led the foote to fight
And was Antenor's famous sonne. Polydamas did end
Otus, surnam'd Cyllenius, whom Phyleus made his friend,
Being chiefe of the Epeians' Bands: whose fall, when Meges viewd,
He let flie at his feller's life, who (shrinking-in) eschew'd
The wel-aym'd lance. Apollo's will denied that Panthus' sonne
Should fall amongst the foremost fights; the dart the mid-brest wonne
Of Crœsmus; Meges wonne his armes. At Meges, Dolops then
Bestow'd his lance; he was the sonne of Lampus, best of men,
And Lampus, of Laomedon, well-skild in strength of mind.
He strooke Phylides' shield quite through, whose curets, better lin'd
And hollow'd fitly, sav'd his life. Phyleus left him them,
Who from Epirus brought them home, on that part where the streme
Of famous Seléés doth runne; Euphetes did bestow
(Being guest with him) those wel-prov'd armes to weare against the foe,
And now they sav'd his sonne from death. At Dolops, Meges threw
A speare well-pilde, that strooke his caske full in the height; off flew
His purple feather, newly made, and in the dust it fell.
While these thus striv'd for victorie and either's hope serv'd well,
Atrides came to Meges' aide, and (hidden with his side)
Let loose a javelin at his foe that through his backe implied
His lustie head, even past his breast; the ground receiv'd his weight.
While these made-in to spoyle his armes, great Hector did excite
All his allies to quicke revenge; and first he wrought upon
Strong Melanippus (that was sonne to great Hicetaon)
With some reproofe. Before these warres, he in Percote fed
Cloven-footed Oxen, but did since returne where he was bred,
Exceld amongst the Ilians, was much of Priam lov'd,
And in his court kept as his sonne. Him Hector thus reprov'd:
‘Thus, Melanippus, shall our blood accuse us of neglect?
Nor moves it thy lov'd heart (thus urg'd) thy kinsman to protect?
Seest thou not how they seeke his spoyle? Come, follow; now no more
Our fight must stand at length, but close: nor leave the close before
We close the latest eye of them—or they the lowest stone
Teare up and sacke the citizens of loftie Ilion.’
He led; he followd like a god. And then must Ajax needs
(As well as Hector) cheare his men, and thus their spirits he feeds:
‘Good friends, bring but your selves to feele the noble stings of shame
For what ye suffer, and be men: respect each other's fame,
For which who strives in shame's fit feare and puts on ne'er so farre
Comes oftner off than sticke engag'd: these fugitives of warre
Save neither life, nor get renowne, nor beare more minds than sheepe.’
This short speech fir'd them in his aide, his spirit toucht them deepe
And turn'd them all before the fleet into a wall of brasse:
To whose assault Jove stird their foes, and young Atrides was
Jove's instrument, who thus set on the yong Antilochus:
‘Antilochus, in all our host there is not one of us
More yong than thou, more swift of foote, nor (with both those) so strong.
O would thou wouldst then (for thou canst) one of this lustie throng
That thus comes skipping out before (whoever, any where)
Make sticke (for my sake) twixt both hosts, and leave his bold blood there.’
He said no sooner and retir'd, but forth he rusht before
The foremost fighters, yet his eye did every way explore
For doubt of ods; out flew his lance: the Troyans did abstaine
While he was darting, yet his dart he cast not off in vaine,
For Melanippus, that rare sonne of great Hicetaon
(As bravely he put foorth to fight) it fiercely flew upon,
And at the nipple of his breast, his breast and life did part.
And then, much like an eager hound cast off at some yong Hart
Hurt by the hunter, that had left his covert then but new,
The great-in-warre Antilochus (O Melanippus) flew
On thy torne bosome for thy spoyle. But thy death could not lie
Hid to great Hector, who all haste made to thee and made flie
Antilochus, although in warre he were at all parts skild.
But as some wild beast, having done some shrewd turne (either kild
The heardsman, or the heardsman's dogge,) and skulks away before
The gatherd multitude makes in: so Nestor's sonne forbore,
But after him with horrid cryes both Hector and the rest
Showres of teare-thirstie lances powr'd, who, having arm'd his brest
With all his friends, he turn'd it then. Then on the ships all Troy,
Like raw-flesh-nourisht Lions, rusht, and knew they did imploy
Their powres to perfect Jove's high will, who still their spirits enflam'd
And quencht the Grecians; one, renownd; the other, often sham'd.
For Hector's glorie still he stood, and ever went about
To make him cast the fleet such fire as never should go out,
Heard Thetis' foule petition, and wisht, in any wise,
The splendor of the burning ships might satiate his eyes.
From him yet the repulse was then to be on Troy conferd
The honor of it given the Greeks, which (thinking on) he stird
(With such addition of his spirit) the spirit Hector bore
To burne the fleet, that of it selfe was hote enough before.
But now he far'd like Mars himselfe, so brandishing his lance
As through the deepe shades of a wood a raging fire should glance,
Held up to all eyes by a hill; about his lips a fome
Stood, as when th' Ocean is enrag'd; his eyes were overcome
With fervour and resembl'd flames, set off by his darke browes;
And from his temples his bright helme abhorred lightnings throwes.
For Jove, from foorth the sphere of starres, to his state put his owne
And all the blaze of both the hosts confin'd in him alone.
And all this was, since after this he had not long to live;
This lightning flew before his death, which Pallas was to give
(A small time thence, and now prepar'd) beneath the violence
Of great Pelides. In meane time, his present eminence
Thought all things under it: and he, still where he saw the stands
Of greatest strength and bravest arm'd, there he would prove his hands
Or no where, offering to breake through. But that past all his powre,
Although his will were past all theirs; they stood him like a towre
Conjoynd so firme that as a rocke, exceeding high and great
And standing neare the hoarie sea, beares many a boisterous threate
Of high-voic't winds and billowes huge belcht on it by the stormes;
So stood the Greeks great Hector's charge, nor stird their battellous formes.
He (guirt in fire, borne for the fleet) still rusht at every troope,
And fell upon it like a wave high raisd that then doth stoope
Out from the clouds, grows as it stoops with stormes, then downe doth come
And cuffe a ship, when all her sides are hid in brackish fome,
Strong gales still raging in her sailes, her sailers' minds dismaid,
Death being but little from their lives: so Jove-like Hector fraid
And plyde the Greeks, who knew not what would chance for all their guards.
And as the banefull king of beasts, leapt in to Oxen heards
Fed in the meddowes of a fenne exceeding great, the beasts
In number infinite, mongst whom (their heardsmen wanting breasts
To fight with Lions for the price of a blacke Oxe's life)
He here and there jumps, first and last in his bloodthirstie strife
Chac't and assaulted, and at length downe in the midst goes one,
And all the rest sperst through the fenne: so now, all Greece was gone—
So Hector (in a flight from heaven upon the Grecians cast)
Turnd all their backs; yet onely one his deadly lance laid fast,
Brave Mycenæus Periphes, Copreus dearest sonne,
Who of the heaven's-Queene-lov'd-king (great Eurystheus) wonne
The grace to greet in Ambassie the strength of Hercules,
Was farre superiour to his sire in feete, fight, noblenes
Of all the vertues, and all those did such a wisedome guide
As all Mycena could not match: and this man dignified
(Stil making greater his renowne) the state of Priam's sonne.
For his unhappie hastie foote, as he addrest to runne,
Stucke in th' extreme ring of his shield that to his ankles reacht,
And downe he upwards fell; his fall up from the center fetcht
A huge sound with his head and helme; which Hector quickly spide,
Ranne in, and in his worthy breast his lance's head did hide
And slue about him all his friends, who could not give him aide:
They griev'd, and of his god-like foe fled so extreme afraid.
And now amongst the nearest ships that first were drawne to shore
The Greeks were driven, beneath whose sides, behind them and before
And into them, they powr'd themselves, and thence were driven againe
Up to their tents, and there they stood—not daring to maintaine
Their guards more outward, but betwixt the bounds of Feare and Shame
Chear'd still each other; when th' old man that of the Grecian name
Was cald the pillar every man thus by his parents praid:
‘O friends, be men, and in your minds let others' shames be weigh'd.
Know you have friends besides your selves, possessions, parents, wives,
As well those that are dead to you as those ye love with lives—
All sharing still their good, or bad, with yours. By these I pray
That are not present (and the more should therefore make ye wey
Their misse of you, as yours of them), that you will bravely stand
And this forc't flight you have sustain'd at length yet countermand.’
Supplies of good words thus supplide the deeds and spirits of all
And so at last Minerva clear'd the cloud that Jove let fall
Before their eyes: a mightie light flew beaming every way,
As well about their ships as where their darts did hotest play.
Then saw they Hector great in armes and his associates,
As well all those that then abstaind as those that helpt the fates,
And all their owne fight at the fleete. Nor did it now content
Ajax to keepe downe like the rest; he up the hatches went,
Stalkt here and there, and in his hand a huge great beadhooke held,
Twelve cubits long and full of Iron. And as a man well skild
In horse made to the martiall race, when (of a number more)
He chuseth foure and brings them foorth to runne them all before
Swarmes of admiring citizens amids their towne's high-way,
And (in their full carier) he leapes from one to one, no stay
Enforc't on any, nor failes he in either seate or leape:
So Ajax with his beadhooke leapt nimbly from ship to ship
As actively, commanding all—them in their men as well
As men in them most terribly exhorting to repell,
To save their navie and their tents. But Hector nothing needs
To stand on exhortations now at home; he strives for deeds.
And looke how Jove's great Queene of birds (sharpe set) lookes out for prey,
Knowes floods that nourish wild-wing'd fowles and (from her airie way)
Beholds where Cranes, Swans, Cormorands have made their foody fall,
Darkens the river with her wings and stoopes amongst them all:
So Hector flew amongst the Greekes, directing his command
(In chiefe) against one opposite ship, Jove with a mightie hand
Still backing him and all his men. And then againe there grew
A bitter conflict at the fleet; you would have said none drew
A wearie breath, nor ever would, they layd so freshly on.
And this was it that fir'd them both: the Greeks did build upon
No hope but what the field would yeeld, flight an impossible course;
The Troyans all hope entertaind that sword and fire should force
Both ships and lives of all the Greekes; and thus unlike affects
Bred like strenuitie in both. Great Hector still directs
His powres against the first neare ship. Twas that faire barke that brought
Protesilaus to those warres, and now her selfe to nought
With many Greeke and Troyan lives, all spoyld about her spoyle.
One slue another desperately, and close the deadly toyle
Was pitcht on both parts. Not a shaft nor farre-off striking dart
Was usde through all: one fight fell out of one despitefull hart.
Sharpe axes, twibils, two-hand swords and speares with two heads borne
Were then the weapons, faire short swords, with sanguine hilts still worne,
Had use in like sort; of which last ye might have numbers view'd
Drop with dissolv'd armes from their hands, as many downright hew'd
From off their shoulders as they fought, their bawdricks cut in twaine.
And thus the blacke blood flow'd on earth from souldiers hurt and slaine.
When Hector once had seisd the ship, he clapt his faire brode hand
Fast on the sterne and held it there; and there gave this command:
‘Bring fire, and altogether showt. Now Jove hath drawne the veile
From such a day as makes amends for all his stormes of haile;
By whose blest light we take those ships that, in despite of heaven,
Tooke sea and brought us worlds of woe—all since our Peeres were given
To such a lasinesse and feare they would not let me end
Our lingring banes and charge thus home, but keepe home and defend.
And so they rul'd the men I led. But though Jove then withheld
My naturall spirit, now by Jove tis freed, and thus impeld.’
This more inflam'd them; in so much that Ajax now no more
Kept up, he was so drownd in darts; a little he forbore
The hatches to a seate beneath, of seven foote long, but thought
It was impossible to scape; he sate yet where he fought
And hurld out lances thicke as haile at all men that assaid
To fire the ship—with whom he found his hands so overlaid
That on his souldiers thus he cryed: ‘O friends, fight I alone?
Expect ye more wals at your backes? Townes rampir'd here are none—
No citizens to take ye in, no helpe in any kind.
We are, I tell you, in Troy's fields, have nought but seas behind
And foes before, farre, farre, from Greece. For shame, obey commands;
There is no mercie in the warres; your healthes lie in your hands.’
Thus rag'd he, and powr'd out his darts: who ever he espied
Come neare the vessell arm'd with fire, on his fierce dart he died.
All that pleasd Hector made him mad, all, that his thanks would erne—
Of which twelve men, his most resolv'd, lay dead before his sterne.
All got to chariot, feare-driven all; and fear'd as men dismaide.
Then Jove, on Ida's top, awakt, rose from Saturnia's side,
Stood up, and lookt upon the warre: and all inverted spide,
Since he had seene it, th' Ilians now in rowt, the Greeks in fight;
King Neptune, with his long sword, Chiefe; great Hector put downe quite,
Laide flat in field, and with a crowne of Princes compassed,
So stopt up that he scarce could breath, his mind's sound habite fled
And he still spitting blood. Indeed, his hurt was not set on
By one that was the weakest Greeke. But him Jove lookt upon
With eyes of pittie, on his wife with horrible aspect,
To whom he said: ‘O thou in ill most cunning Architect,
All Arts and comments that exceedst! not onely to enforce
Hector from fight, but with his men to shew the Greeks a course.
I feare (as formerly so now) these ils have with thy hands
Their first fruits sowne, and therefore could lode all thy lims with bands.
Forgetst thou, when I hangd thee up, how to thy feete I tyed
Two Anvils, golden manacles on thy false wrists implied,
And let thee mercilesly hang from our refined heaven
Even to earth's vapors; all the gods in great Olympus given
To mutinies about thee, yet (though all stood staring on)
None durst dissolve thee; for these hands (had they but seisd upon
Thy friend) had headlong throwne him off from our star-bearing round
Till he had tumbl'd out his breath and peecemeale dasht the ground.
Nor was my angry spirit calm'd so soone for those foule seas
On which (inducing Northerne flawes) thou shipwrack'dst Hercules
And tost him to the Coan shore, that thou shouldst tempt againe
My wrath's importance, when thou seest (besides) how grosly vaine
My powres can make thy policies: for from their utmost force
I freed my sonne and set him safe in Argos, nurse of horse.
These I remember to thy thoughts, that thou mayst shun these sleights
And know how badly bed-sports thrive, procur'd by base deceits.’
This frighted the offending Queene, who with this state excusde
Her kind unkindnesse: ‘Witnesse earth and heaven, so farre diffusde,
Thou Flood whose silent-gliding waves the under ground doth beare,
(Which is the great'st and gravest oath that any god can sweare)
Thy sacred head, those secret joyes that our yong bed gave forth
(By which I never rashly swore), that he who shakes the earth
Not by my counsell did this wrong to Hector and his host;
But (pittying th' oppressed Greekes, their fleete being neerly lost)
Reliev'd their hard condition, yet utterly impeld
By his free mind. Which since I see is so offensive held
To thy high pleasure, I will now advise him not to tread
But where thy tempest-raising feete, O Jupiter, shall leade.’
Jove laught to heare her so submisse, and said: ‘My faire-eyd love,
If still thus thou and I were one (in counsels held above),
Neptune would still in word and fact be ours, if not in heart.
If then thy tongue and heart agree, from hence to heaven depart
To call the excellent in bowes, the Raine-bow, and the Sunne,
That both may visite both the hosts—the Grecian armie, one,
And that is Iris, let her haste and make the sea-god cease
T' assist the Greekes and to his court retire from warre, in peace.
Let Phœbus (on the Troyan part) inspire with wonted powre
Great Hector's spirits, make his thoughts forget the late sterne houre
And all his anguish, setting on his whole recover'd man
To make good his late grace in fight, and hold in constant wane
The Grecian glories, till they fall in flight before the fleete
Of vext Achilles. Which extreme will prove the meane to greete
Thee with thy wish, for then the eyes of great Æacides
(Made witnesse of the generall ill that doth so neare him prease)
Will make his owne particular looke out and by degrees
Abate his wrath, that though himselfe for no extremities
Will seeme reflected, yet his friend may get of him the grace
To helpe his countrey in his Armes; and he shall make fit place
For his full presence with his death, which shall be well forerunne:
For I will first renowne his life with slaughter of my sonne,
Divine Sarpedon, and his death great Hector's powre shall wreake,
Ending his ends. Then, at once, out shall the furie breake
Of fierce Achilles, and with that the flight now felt shall turne,
And then last till in wrathfull flames the long-sieg'd Ilion burne.
Minerva's counsell shall become grave meane to this my will,
Which no god shall neglect before Achilles take his fill
Of slaughter for his slaughterd friend—even Hector's slaughter throwne
Under his anger—that these facts may then make fully knowne
My vowe's performance, made of late and with my bowed head
Confirm'd to Thetis, when her armes embrac't my knees and praid
That to her citie-racing sonne I would all honour shew.’
This heard, his charge she seem'd t'intend and to Olympus flew.
But, as the mind of such a man that hath a great way gone
And, either knowing not his way, or then would let alone
His purposde journey, is distract and in his vexed mind
Resolves now not to go, now goes, still many wayes inclin'd:
So reverend Juno headlong flew, and gainst her stomacke striv'd.
For (being amongst th' immortall gods in high heaven soone arriv'd,
All rising, welcoming with cups her litle absence thence)
She all their courtships overpast with solemne negligence,
Save that which faire-cheekt Themis shewd, and her kind cup she tooke.
For first, she ranne and met with her, and askt: What troubled looke
She brought to heaven? She thought (for truth) that Jove had terrified
Her spirits strangely, since she went. The faire-arm'd Queene replide:
‘That truth may easily be supposde: you, goddesse Themis, know
His old severitie and pride, but you bear't out with show,
And like the banquet's arbiter amongst th' Immortals fare,
Though well you heare amongst them all how bad his actions are.
Nor are all here, nor any where, mortals nor gods, (I feare)
Entirely pleasd with what he does, though thus ye banquet here.’
Thus tooke she place displeasedly, the feast in generall
Bewraying privie splenes at Jove; and then (to colour all)
She laught, but meerly from her lips, for over her blacke browes
Her still-bent forehead was not cleer'd; yet this her passion's throwes
Brought forth in spight, being lately school'd: ‘Alas, what fooles are we
That envie Jove, or that by act, word, thought can fantasie
Any resistance to his will. He sits farre off, nor cares,
Nor moves, but sayes he knowes his strength, to all degrees compares
His greatnesse past all other gods, and that in fortitude
And every other godlike powre he reignes past all indude.
For which great eminence all you Gods, what ever ill he does,
Sustaine with patience. Here is Mars, I thinke, not free from woes,
And yet he beares them like himselfe. The great God had a sonne
Whom he himselfe yet justifies, one that from all men wonne
Just surname of their best belov'd, Ascalaphus; yet he
(By Jove's high grace to Troy) is slaine.’ Mars started horribly
(As Juno knew he would) at this, beate with his hurld-out hands
His brawnie thighes, cried out, and said: ‘O you that have commands
In these high temples, beare with me if I revenge the death
Of such a sonne. I'le to the fleete, and though I sinke beneath
The fate of being shot to hell by Jove's fell thunder stone
And lie all grim'd amongst the dead with dust and bloud, my sonne
Revenge shall honour.’ Then he charg'd Feare and Dismay to joyne
His horse and chariot: he got armes, that over heaven did shine,
And then a wrath more great and grave in Jove had bene prepar'd
Against the gods than Juno causde, if Pallas had not car'd
More for the peace of heaven than Mars; who leapt out of her throne,
Rapt up her helmet, lance, and shield, and made her Phanes' porch grone
With her egression to his stay, and thus his rage defers:
‘Furious and foolish, th' art undone! Hast thou for nought thine eares?
Heard'st thou not Juno, being arriv'd from heaven's great king but now?
Or wouldst thou he himselfe should rise (forc't with thy rage) to show
The dreadfull powre she urg'd in him, so justly being stird?
Know (thou most impudent and mad) thy wrath had not inferd
Mischiefe to thee, but to us all: his spirit had instantly
Left both the hosts and turn'd his hands to uprores in the skie.
Guiltie and guiltlesse both to wracke in his high rage had gone.
And therefore (as thou lovest thy selfe) ceasse furie for thy sonne.
Another, farre exceeding him in heart and strength of hand,
Or is, or will be shortly slaine. It were a worke would stand
Jove in much trouble to free all from death that would not die.’
This threat even nail'd him to his throne, when heaven's chiefe Majestie
Cald bright Apollo from his Phane and Iris that had place
Of Internunciesse from the Gods; to whom she did the grace
Of Jupiter to this effect: ‘It is Saturnius’ will
That both, with utmost speed, should stoope to the Idalian hill
To know his further pleasure there. And this let me advise,
When you arrive and are in reach of his refulgent eyes,
His pleasure heard, performe it all, of whatsoever kind.’
Thus mov'd she backe, and usde her throne. Those two outstript the wind,
And Ida (all enchac't with springs) they soone attaind and found
Where farre-discerning Jupiter, in his repose, had crown'd
The browes of Gargarus and wrapt an odoriferous cloud
About his bosome. Coming neare, they stood, nor now he show'd
His angry countenance since so soone he saw they made th' accesse
That his lov'd wife enjoyn'd. But first, the faire Ambassadresse
He thus commanded: ‘Iris, go to Neptune, and relate
Our pleasure truly and at large; command him from the Fate
Of humane warre, and either greete the gods' societie
Or the divine sea make his seate. If proudly he denie,
Let better counsels be his guides than such as bid me warre
And tempt my charge, though he be strong; for I am stronger farre
And elder borne: nor let him dare to boast even state with me,
Whom all Gods else preferre in feare.’ This said, downe hasted she
From Ida's top to Ilion. And like a mightie snow
Or gelide haile that from the clouds the Northerne spirit doth blow,
So fell the windie-footed Dame, and found with quicke repaire
The watrie God, to whom she said: ‘God with the sable haire,
I come from Ægis-bearing Jove to bid thee ceasse from fight
And visite heaven or th' ample seas; which, if in his despight
Or disobedience, thou deniest, he threatens thee to come
(In opposite fight) to field himselfe—and therefore warnes thee home,
His hands eschewing, since his powre is farre superiour,
His birth before thee, and affirmes thy lov'd heart should abhorre
To vaunt equalitie with him, whom every deitie feares.’
He answerd: ‘O unworthy thing! though he be great, he beares
His tongue too proudly, that our selfe, borne to an equall share
Of state and freedome, he would force. Three brothers borne we are
To Saturne; Rhea brought us forth—this Jupiter and I
And Pluto, god of under-grounds. The world indifferently
Disposde betwixt us; every one his kingdome; I, the seas;
Pluto, the blacke lot; Jupiter, the principalities
Of broad heaven, all the skie and clouds, was sorted out: the earth
And high Olympus common are and due to either's birth.
Why then should I be aw'd by him? Content he his great heart
With his third portion and not thinke to amplifie his part
With terrors of his stronger hands on me, as if I were
The most ignoble of us all. Let him containe in feare
His daughters and his sonnes, begot by his owne person: this
Holds more convenience: they must heare these violent threats of his.’
‘Shall I,’ said Iris, ‘beare from thee an answer so austere?
Or wilt thou change it? Changing minds all noble natures beare:
And well thou know'st these greatest borne the Furies follow still.’
He answerd: ‘Iris, thy reply keepes time, and shewes thy skill.
O tis a most praise-worthy thing when messengers can tell
(Besides their messages) such things as fit th' occasion well.
But this much grieves my heart and soule, that being in powre and state
All wayes his equall and so fixt by one decree in fate,
He should to me, as under him, ill language give and chide.
Yet now (though still incenst) I yeeld, affirming this beside—
And I enforce it with a threat—that if without consent
Of me, Minerva, Mercurie, the Queene of regiment,
And Vulcan, he will either spare high Ilion or not race
Her turrets to the lowest stone, and (with both these) not grace
The Greekes as victors absolute, informe him this from me,
His pride and my contempt shall live at endlesse enmitie.’
This said, he left the Greeks and rusht into his watrie throne,
Much mist of all th' heroicke host. When Jove discern'd him gone,
Apollo's service he employd, and said: ‘Lov'd Phœbus, go
To Hector: now th' earth-shaking god hath taken sea and so
Shrunke from the horrors I denounc't, which standing, he and all
The under-seated deities that circle Saturne's fall
Had heard of me in such a fight as had gone hard for them.
But both for them and me tis best that thus they flie th' extreme
That had not past us without sweate. Now then, in thy hands take
My Adder-fring'd affrighting shield, which with such terror shake
That Feare may shake the Greekes to flight: besides this, adde thy care
(O Phœbus, farre-off-shooting god) that this so sickly fare
Of famous Hector be recur'd, and quickly so excite
His amplest powres that all the Greeks may grace him with their flight
Even to their ships and Hellespont; and then will I devise
All words and facts againe for Greece, that largely may suffice
To breathe them from their instant toiles.’ Thus from th' Idæan height
(Like ayre's swift pigeon-killer) stoupt the far-shot God of light,
And found great Hector sitting up, not stretcht upon his bed,
Not wheasing with a stopt-up spirit, not in cold sweates, but fed
With fresh and comfortable veines, but his mind all his owne,
But round about him all his friends as well as ever knowne.
And this was with the mind of Jove, that flew to him before
Apollo came, who (as he saw no signe of any sore)
Askt (like a chearfull visitant): ‘Why in this sickly kind,
Great Hector, sitst thou so apart? Can any griefe of mind
Invade thy fortitude?’ He spake, but with a feeble voice:
‘O thou, the best of deities! Why (since I thus rejoyce
By thy so serious benefite) demandst thou (as in mirth,
And to my face) if I were ill? For (more than what thy worth
Must needs take note of) doth not Fame from all mouthes fill thine eares,
That (as my hand at th' Achive fleete was making massacres
Of men whom valiant Ajax led) his strength strooke with a stone
All powre of more hurt from my brest? My very soule was gone,
And once to day I thought to see the house of Dis and Death.’
‘Be strong,’ said he, ‘for such a spirit now sends the god of breath
From airie Ida as shall runne through all Greeke spirits in thee.
Apollo with the golden sword, the cleare farre-seer, see,
Him who betwixt death and thy life, twixt ruine and those towres,
Ere this day oft hath held his shield. Come then, be all thy powres
In wonted vigour: let thy knights, with all their horse assay
The Grecian fleete; my selfe will leade and scoure so cleare the way
That Flight shall leave no Greeke a Rub.’ Thus instantly inspir'd
Were all his nerves with matchlesse strength, and then his friends he fir'd
Against their foes, when (to his eyes) his eares confirm'd the god.
Then, as a goodly-headed Hart, or Goate, bred in the wood,
A rout of country huntsmen chase with all their hounds in crie,
The beast yet or the shadie woods or rocks excessive hie
Keepe safe, or our unwieldie fates (that even in hunters sway)
Barre them the poore beast's pulling downe, when straight the clamorous fray
Cals out a Lion hugely man'd, and his abhorred view
Turnes headlong in unturning flight (though ventrous) all the crew:
So hitherto the chasing Greeks their slaughter dealt by troupes,
But, after Hector was beheld, range here and there. Then stoupes
The boldest courage, then their heeles tooke in their dropping harts,
And then spake Andræmonides, a man of farre-best parts
Of all th' Ætolians, skild in darts, strenuous in fights of stand,
And one of whom few of the Greekes could get the better hand
(For Rhetorique) which they fought with words; with all which being wise,
Thus spake he to his Grecian friends: ‘O mischiefe! Now mine eyes
Discerne no litle miracle—Hector escapt from death
And all recoverd, when all thought his soule had sunke beneath
The hands of Ajax. But some God hath sav'd and freed againe
Him that but now dissolv'd the knees of many a Grecian
And now I feare will weaken more; for not without the hand
Of him that thunders can his powres thus still the forefights stand,
Thus still triumphant. Heare me then: our troupes in quicke retreate
Let's draw up to our fleete, and we that boast our selves the Great
Stand firme and trie if these that raise so high their charging darts
May be resisted. I beleeve even this great heart of harts
Will feare himselfe to be too bold in charging thorow us.’
They easely heard him, and obeyd; when all the generous
They cald t' encounter Hector's charge and turn'd the common men
Backe to the fleete. And these were they that bravely furnisht then
The fierce forefight—th' Ajaces both, the worthy Cretan king,
The Mars-like Meges, Merion, and Teucer. Up then bring
The Troyan chiefes their men in heapes, before whom (amply pac't)
Marcht Hector, and in front of him Apollo, who had cast
About his bright aspect a cloud and did before him beare
Jove's huge and each-where shaggie shield, which (to containe in feare
Offending men) the god-smith gave to Jove: with this he led
The Troyan forces. The Greeks stood. A fervent clamor spred
The aire on both sides as they joyn'd; out flew the shafts and darts,
Some falling short, but othersome found buts in brests and harts.
As long as Phœbus held but out his horrid shield, so long
The darts flew raging either way, and death grew both wayes strong.
But when the Greeks had seene his face and who it was that shooke
The bristled targe knew by his voice, then all their strengths forsooke
Their nerves and minds. And then looke how a goodly herd of Neate,
Or wealthy flocke of sheepe, being close and dreadlesse at their meate,
In some blacke midnight sodainly (and not a keeper neere)
A brace of horrid Beares rush in, and then flie here and there
The poore affrighted flocks or herds; so every way disperst
The heartlesse Grecians, so the Sunne their headstrong chace reverst
To headlong flight, and that day raisde, with all grace, Hector's head.
Arcesilaus then he slue, and Stichius; Stichius led
Bœotia's brazen-coted men; the other was the friend
Of mightie-soul'd Menestheus. Æneas brought to end
Medon and Jasus; Medon was the brother (though but base)
Of swift Oiliades, and dwelt farre from his breeding place
In Phylace; the other led th' Athenian bands, his Sire
Was Sphelus, Bucolus his sonne, Mecisteus did expire
Beneath Polydamas his hand. Polites, Echius slew
Just at the joyning of the hosts. Agenor overthrew
Clonius. Bold Deiochus felt Alexander's lance;
It strooke his shoulder's upper part and did his head advance
Quite through his brest, as from the fight he turn'd him for retreat.
While these stood spoiling of the slaine, the Greeks found time to get
Beyond the dike and th' undik't pales: all scapes they gladly gain'd
Till all had past the utmost wall: Necessitie so raign'd.
Then Hector cried out: ‘Take no spoile, but rush on to the fleete,
From whose assault (for spoile or flight) if any man I meete,
He meets his death: nor in the fire of holy funerall
His brother's or his sister's hands shall cast (within our wall)
His lothed body, but, without, the throtes of dogs shall grave
His manlesse lims.’ This said, the scourge his forward horses drave
Through every order, and with him all whipt their chariots on,
All threatningly out thundering shouts as earth were overthrowne.
Before them marcht Apollo still, and, as he marcht, digd downe
(Without all labour) with his feete the dike, till with his owne
He fild it to the top and made way both for man and horse
As broade and long as with a lance (cast out to trie one's force)
A man could measure. Into this they powr'd whole troupes as fast
As numerous, Phœbus still before, for all their hast,
Still shaking Jove's unvalewed shield, and held it up to all.
And then as he had chok't their dike he tumbl'd downe their wall.
And looke how easely any boy upon the sea-ebd shore
Makes with a litle sand a toy and cares for it no more,
But as he raisd it childishly, so in his wanton vaine
Both with his hands and feete he puls and spurnes it downe againe:
So sleight, O Phœbus, thy hands made of that huge Grecian toile
And their late stand, so well resolv'd, as easely mad'st recoile.
Thus stood they driven up at their fleete, where each heard other's thought
Exhorted, passing humbly prayd, all, all the gods besought
(With hands held up to heaven) for helpe. Mongst all the good old man,
Grave Nestor (for his counsels cald the Argives' guardian),
Fell on his aged knees and prayd, and to the starrie host
Stretcht out his hands for ayd to theirs, of all thus moving most:
‘O father Jove, if ever man of all our host did burne
Fat thighes of oxen or of sheepe (for grace of safe returne)
In fruitfull Argos, and obtaind the bowing of thy head
For promise of his humble prayers, O now remember him,
Thou meerly heavenly, and cleare up the foule browes of this dim
And cruell day; do not destroy our zeale for Troyan pride.’
He prayd, and heaven's great Counsellor with store of thunder tride
His former grace good, and so heard the old man's heartie prayres.
The Troyans tooke Jove's signe for them, and powr'd out their affaires
In much more violence on the Greeks and thought on nought but fight.
And as a huge wave of a sea, swolne to his rudest height,
Breakes over both sides of a ship, being all urg'd by the wind,
For that's it makes the wave so proud in such a borne-up kind,
The Troyans overgat the wall and, getting in their horse,
Fought close at fleete, which now the Greeks ascended for their force.
Then from their chariots they with darts, the Greeks with bead-hooks fought
(Kept still aboord for navall fights), their heads with iron wrought
In hookes and pikes. Achilles' friend still while he saw the wall
That stood without their fleete affoord employment for them all
Was never absent from the tent of that man-loving Greeke,
Late-hurt Eurypylus, but sate and every way did seeke
To spend the sharpe time of his wound with all the ease he could
In medicines and in kind discourse: but when he might behold
The Troyans past the wall, the Greekes flight driven and all in cries,
Then cride he out, cast downe his hands and beate with griefe his thighes:
Then, ‘O Eurypylus,’ he cride, ‘now all thy need of me
Must beare my absence: now a worke of more necessitie
Cals hence, and I must hast to call Achilles to the field.
Who knowes but (God assisting me) my words may make him yeeld?
The motion of a friend is strong.’ His feete thus tooke him thence.
The rest yet stood their enemies firme, but all their violence
(Though Troy fought there with fewer men) lackt vigor to repell
Those fewer from their Navie's charge, and so that charge as well
Lackt force to spoile their fleete or tents. And as a shipwright's line
(Disposde by such a hand as learn'd from th' Artizan divine
The perfect practise of his Art) directs or guards so well
The navall timber then in frame that all the layd-on steele
Can hew no further than may serve to give the timber th' end
Fore-purposde by the skilfull wright: so both hosts did contend
With such a line or law applide to what their steele would gaine.
At other ships fought other men, but Hector did maintaine
His quarrell firme at Ajax' ship, and so did both employ
About one vessell all their toyle: nor could the one destroy
The ship with fire nor force the man, nor that man yet get gone
The other from so neare his ship; for God had brought him on.
But now did Ajax with a dart wound deadly in the brest
Caletor, sonne of Clytius, as he with fire addrest
To burne the vessell; as he fell, the brand fell from his hand.
When Hector saw his sister's sonne lie slaughterd in the sand
He cald to all his friends and prayd they would not in that streight
Forsake his nephew but maintaine about his corse the fight
And save it from the spoile of Greece. Then sent he out a lance
At Ajax in his nephewe's wreake, which mist but made the chance
On Lycophron Mastorides, that was the houshold friend
Of Ajax, borne in Cythera, whom Ajax did defend
(Being fled to his protection) for killing of a man
Amongst the god-like Cytherans. The vengefull Javelin ran
Quite through his head above his eare as he was standing by
His Fautor, then asterne his ship, from whence his soule did flie
And to the earth his body fell. The haire stood up an end
On Ajax, who to Teucer cald (his brother) saying: ‘Friend,
Our loved consort, whom we brought from Cythera and grac't
So like our father, Hector's hand hath made him breathe his last.
Where then are all thy death-borne shafts and that unvallewed bow
Apollo gave thee?’ Teucer strait his brother's thoughts did know,
Stood neare him and dispatcht a shaft amongst the Troyan fight
It strooke Pisenor's goodly sonne, yong Cleitus, the delight
Of the renowm'd Polydamas, the bridle in his hand,
As he was labouring his horse to please the high command
Of Hector and his Troyan friends and bring him where the fight
Made greatest tumult. But his strife for honour in their sight
Wrought not what sight or wishes helpt; for, turning backe his looke,
The hollow of his necke the shaft came singing on, and strooke,
And downe he fell; his horses backe and hurried through the field
The emptie chariot. Panthus' sonne made all haste and withheld
Their loose carier, disposing them to Protiaon's sonne,
Astynous, with speciall charge to keepe them ever on
And in his sight: so he againe amongst the foremost went.
At Hector then another shaft incensed Teucer sent,
Which, had it hit him, sure had hurt and, had it hurt him, slaine—
And had it slaine him, it had driven all those to Troy againe.
But Jove's mind was not sleeping now; it wak't to Hector's fame
And Teucer's infamie, himselfe (in Teucer's deadly aime)
His well-wrought string dissevering that serv'd his bravest bow:
His shaft flew quite another way, his bow the earth did strow.
At all which, Teucer stood amaz'd and to his brother cride:
‘O prodigie! Without all doubt our Angell doth deride
The counsels of our fight; he brake a string my hands put on
This morning and was newly made and well might have set gone
A hundred arrowes; and beside, he strooke out of my hand
The bow Apollo gave.’ He sayd: ‘Then, good friend, do not stand
More on thy archerie, since God (preventer of all grace
Desir'd by Grecians) sleights it so. Take therefore in the place
A good large lance, and on thy necke a target cast as bright;
With which, come fight thy selfe with some and othersome excite,
That without labour at the least (though we prove worser men)
Troy may not brag it tooke our ships: come, mind our businesse then.’
This said, he hasted to his tent, left there his shafts and bow,
And then his double, double shield, did on his shoulders throw,
Upon his honor'd head he plac't his helmet, thickly plum'd,
And then his strong and well-pilde lance in his faire hand assum'd,
Return'd, and boldly tooke his place by his great brother's side.
When Hector saw his arrowes broke, out to his friends he cride:
‘O friends, be yet more comforted! I saw the hands of Jove
Breake the great Grecian archer's shafts. Tis easie to approve
That Jove's powre is direct with men, as well in those set hie
Upon the sodaine as in those deprest as sodainly,
And those not put in state at all—as now he takes away
Strength from the Greeks and gives it us. Then use it, and assay
With joyn'd hands this approched fleete. If any bravely buy
His fame or fate with wounds or death, in Jove's name let him die.
Who for his country suffers death sustaines no shamefull thing:
His wife in honour shall survive, his progenie shall spring
In endlesse summers and their roofes with patrimonie swell;
And all this, though, with all their freight, the Greeke ships we repell.’
His friends thus cheer'd, on th' other part strong Ajax stird his friends:
‘O Greeks,’ said he, ‘what shame is this that no man more defends
His fame and safetie than to live, and thus be forc't to shrinke!
Now either save your fleet, or die—unlesse ye vainly thinke
That you can live and they destroyd? Perceives not every eare
How Hector hartens up his men and hath his firebrands here
Now ready to enflame our fleet? He doth not bid them dance,
That you may take your ease and see, but to the fight advance.
No counsell can serve us but this—to mixe both hands and harts
And beare up close; tis better much t' expose our utmost parts
To one daie's certaine life or death than languish in a warre
So base as this, beate to our ships by our inferiours farre.’
Thus rowsd he up their spirits and strengths. To work then both sides went,
When Hector, the Phocensian Duke, to fields of darknesse sent
Fierce Schedius, Perimedes' sonne; which Ajax did requite
With slaughter of Laodamas, that led the foote to fight
And was Antenor's famous sonne. Polydamas did end
Otus, surnam'd Cyllenius, whom Phyleus made his friend,
Being chiefe of the Epeians' Bands: whose fall, when Meges viewd,
He let flie at his feller's life, who (shrinking-in) eschew'd
The wel-aym'd lance. Apollo's will denied that Panthus' sonne
Should fall amongst the foremost fights; the dart the mid-brest wonne
Of Crœsmus; Meges wonne his armes. At Meges, Dolops then
Bestow'd his lance; he was the sonne of Lampus, best of men,
And Lampus, of Laomedon, well-skild in strength of mind.
He strooke Phylides' shield quite through, whose curets, better lin'd
And hollow'd fitly, sav'd his life. Phyleus left him them,
Who from Epirus brought them home, on that part where the streme
Of famous Seléés doth runne; Euphetes did bestow
(Being guest with him) those wel-prov'd armes to weare against the foe,
And now they sav'd his sonne from death. At Dolops, Meges threw
A speare well-pilde, that strooke his caske full in the height; off flew
His purple feather, newly made, and in the dust it fell.
While these thus striv'd for victorie and either's hope serv'd well,
Atrides came to Meges' aide, and (hidden with his side)
Let loose a javelin at his foe that through his backe implied
His lustie head, even past his breast; the ground receiv'd his weight.
While these made-in to spoyle his armes, great Hector did excite
All his allies to quicke revenge; and first he wrought upon
Strong Melanippus (that was sonne to great Hicetaon)
With some reproofe. Before these warres, he in Percote fed
Cloven-footed Oxen, but did since returne where he was bred,
Exceld amongst the Ilians, was much of Priam lov'd,
And in his court kept as his sonne. Him Hector thus reprov'd:
‘Thus, Melanippus, shall our blood accuse us of neglect?
Nor moves it thy lov'd heart (thus urg'd) thy kinsman to protect?
Seest thou not how they seeke his spoyle? Come, follow; now no more
Our fight must stand at length, but close: nor leave the close before
We close the latest eye of them—or they the lowest stone
Teare up and sacke the citizens of loftie Ilion.’
He led; he followd like a god. And then must Ajax needs
(As well as Hector) cheare his men, and thus their spirits he feeds:
‘Good friends, bring but your selves to feele the noble stings of shame
For what ye suffer, and be men: respect each other's fame,
For which who strives in shame's fit feare and puts on ne'er so farre
Comes oftner off than sticke engag'd: these fugitives of warre
Save neither life, nor get renowne, nor beare more minds than sheepe.’
This short speech fir'd them in his aide, his spirit toucht them deepe
And turn'd them all before the fleet into a wall of brasse:
To whose assault Jove stird their foes, and young Atrides was
Jove's instrument, who thus set on the yong Antilochus:
‘Antilochus, in all our host there is not one of us
More yong than thou, more swift of foote, nor (with both those) so strong.
O would thou wouldst then (for thou canst) one of this lustie throng
That thus comes skipping out before (whoever, any where)
Make sticke (for my sake) twixt both hosts, and leave his bold blood there.’
He said no sooner and retir'd, but forth he rusht before
The foremost fighters, yet his eye did every way explore
For doubt of ods; out flew his lance: the Troyans did abstaine
While he was darting, yet his dart he cast not off in vaine,
For Melanippus, that rare sonne of great Hicetaon
(As bravely he put foorth to fight) it fiercely flew upon,
And at the nipple of his breast, his breast and life did part.
And then, much like an eager hound cast off at some yong Hart
Hurt by the hunter, that had left his covert then but new,
The great-in-warre Antilochus (O Melanippus) flew
On thy torne bosome for thy spoyle. But thy death could not lie
Hid to great Hector, who all haste made to thee and made flie
Antilochus, although in warre he were at all parts skild.
But as some wild beast, having done some shrewd turne (either kild
The heardsman, or the heardsman's dogge,) and skulks away before
The gatherd multitude makes in: so Nestor's sonne forbore,
But after him with horrid cryes both Hector and the rest
Showres of teare-thirstie lances powr'd, who, having arm'd his brest
With all his friends, he turn'd it then. Then on the ships all Troy,
Like raw-flesh-nourisht Lions, rusht, and knew they did imploy
Their powres to perfect Jove's high will, who still their spirits enflam'd
And quencht the Grecians; one, renownd; the other, often sham'd.
For Hector's glorie still he stood, and ever went about
To make him cast the fleet such fire as never should go out,
Heard Thetis' foule petition, and wisht, in any wise,
The splendor of the burning ships might satiate his eyes.
From him yet the repulse was then to be on Troy conferd
The honor of it given the Greeks, which (thinking on) he stird
(With such addition of his spirit) the spirit Hector bore
To burne the fleet, that of it selfe was hote enough before.
But now he far'd like Mars himselfe, so brandishing his lance
As through the deepe shades of a wood a raging fire should glance,
Held up to all eyes by a hill; about his lips a fome
Stood, as when th' Ocean is enrag'd; his eyes were overcome
With fervour and resembl'd flames, set off by his darke browes;
And from his temples his bright helme abhorred lightnings throwes.
For Jove, from foorth the sphere of starres, to his state put his owne
And all the blaze of both the hosts confin'd in him alone.
And all this was, since after this he had not long to live;
This lightning flew before his death, which Pallas was to give
(A small time thence, and now prepar'd) beneath the violence
Of great Pelides. In meane time, his present eminence
Thought all things under it: and he, still where he saw the stands
Of greatest strength and bravest arm'd, there he would prove his hands
Or no where, offering to breake through. But that past all his powre,
Although his will were past all theirs; they stood him like a towre
Conjoynd so firme that as a rocke, exceeding high and great
And standing neare the hoarie sea, beares many a boisterous threate
Of high-voic't winds and billowes huge belcht on it by the stormes;
So stood the Greeks great Hector's charge, nor stird their battellous formes.
He (guirt in fire, borne for the fleet) still rusht at every troope,
And fell upon it like a wave high raisd that then doth stoope
Out from the clouds, grows as it stoops with stormes, then downe doth come
And cuffe a ship, when all her sides are hid in brackish fome,
Strong gales still raging in her sailes, her sailers' minds dismaid,
Death being but little from their lives: so Jove-like Hector fraid
And plyde the Greeks, who knew not what would chance for all their guards.
And as the banefull king of beasts, leapt in to Oxen heards
Fed in the meddowes of a fenne exceeding great, the beasts
In number infinite, mongst whom (their heardsmen wanting breasts
To fight with Lions for the price of a blacke Oxe's life)
He here and there jumps, first and last in his bloodthirstie strife
Chac't and assaulted, and at length downe in the midst goes one,
And all the rest sperst through the fenne: so now, all Greece was gone—
So Hector (in a flight from heaven upon the Grecians cast)
Turnd all their backs; yet onely one his deadly lance laid fast,
Brave Mycenæus Periphes, Copreus dearest sonne,
Who of the heaven's-Queene-lov'd-king (great Eurystheus) wonne
The grace to greet in Ambassie the strength of Hercules,
Was farre superiour to his sire in feete, fight, noblenes
Of all the vertues, and all those did such a wisedome guide
As all Mycena could not match: and this man dignified
(Stil making greater his renowne) the state of Priam's sonne.
For his unhappie hastie foote, as he addrest to runne,
Stucke in th' extreme ring of his shield that to his ankles reacht,
And downe he upwards fell; his fall up from the center fetcht
A huge sound with his head and helme; which Hector quickly spide,
Ranne in, and in his worthy breast his lance's head did hide
And slue about him all his friends, who could not give him aide:
They griev'd, and of his god-like foe fled so extreme afraid.
And now amongst the nearest ships that first were drawne to shore
The Greeks were driven, beneath whose sides, behind them and before
And into them, they powr'd themselves, and thence were driven againe
Up to their tents, and there they stood—not daring to maintaine
Their guards more outward, but betwixt the bounds of Feare and Shame
Chear'd still each other; when th' old man that of the Grecian name
Was cald the pillar every man thus by his parents praid:
‘O friends, be men, and in your minds let others' shames be weigh'd.
Know you have friends besides your selves, possessions, parents, wives,
As well those that are dead to you as those ye love with lives—
All sharing still their good, or bad, with yours. By these I pray
That are not present (and the more should therefore make ye wey
Their misse of you, as yours of them), that you will bravely stand
And this forc't flight you have sustain'd at length yet countermand.’
Supplies of good words thus supplide the deeds and spirits of all
And so at last Minerva clear'd the cloud that Jove let fall
Before their eyes: a mightie light flew beaming every way,
As well about their ships as where their darts did hotest play.
Then saw they Hector great in armes and his associates,
As well all those that then abstaind as those that helpt the fates,
And all their owne fight at the fleete. Nor did it now content
Ajax to keepe downe like the rest; he up the hatches went,
Stalkt here and there, and in his hand a huge great beadhooke held,
Twelve cubits long and full of Iron. And as a man well skild
In horse made to the martiall race, when (of a number more)
He chuseth foure and brings them foorth to runne them all before
Swarmes of admiring citizens amids their towne's high-way,
And (in their full carier) he leapes from one to one, no stay
Enforc't on any, nor failes he in either seate or leape:
So Ajax with his beadhooke leapt nimbly from ship to ship
As actively, commanding all—them in their men as well
As men in them most terribly exhorting to repell,
To save their navie and their tents. But Hector nothing needs
To stand on exhortations now at home; he strives for deeds.
And looke how Jove's great Queene of birds (sharpe set) lookes out for prey,
Knowes floods that nourish wild-wing'd fowles and (from her airie way)
Beholds where Cranes, Swans, Cormorands have made their foody fall,
Darkens the river with her wings and stoopes amongst them all:
So Hector flew amongst the Greekes, directing his command
(In chiefe) against one opposite ship, Jove with a mightie hand
Still backing him and all his men. And then againe there grew
A bitter conflict at the fleet; you would have said none drew
A wearie breath, nor ever would, they layd so freshly on.
And this was it that fir'd them both: the Greeks did build upon
No hope but what the field would yeeld, flight an impossible course;
The Troyans all hope entertaind that sword and fire should force
Both ships and lives of all the Greekes; and thus unlike affects
Bred like strenuitie in both. Great Hector still directs
His powres against the first neare ship. Twas that faire barke that brought
Protesilaus to those warres, and now her selfe to nought
With many Greeke and Troyan lives, all spoyld about her spoyle.
One slue another desperately, and close the deadly toyle
Was pitcht on both parts. Not a shaft nor farre-off striking dart
Was usde through all: one fight fell out of one despitefull hart.
Sharpe axes, twibils, two-hand swords and speares with two heads borne
Were then the weapons, faire short swords, with sanguine hilts still worne,
Had use in like sort; of which last ye might have numbers view'd
Drop with dissolv'd armes from their hands, as many downright hew'd
From off their shoulders as they fought, their bawdricks cut in twaine.
And thus the blacke blood flow'd on earth from souldiers hurt and slaine.
When Hector once had seisd the ship, he clapt his faire brode hand
Fast on the sterne and held it there; and there gave this command:
‘Bring fire, and altogether showt. Now Jove hath drawne the veile
From such a day as makes amends for all his stormes of haile;
By whose blest light we take those ships that, in despite of heaven,
Tooke sea and brought us worlds of woe—all since our Peeres were given
To such a lasinesse and feare they would not let me end
Our lingring banes and charge thus home, but keepe home and defend.
And so they rul'd the men I led. But though Jove then withheld
My naturall spirit, now by Jove tis freed, and thus impeld.’
This more inflam'd them; in so much that Ajax now no more
Kept up, he was so drownd in darts; a little he forbore
The hatches to a seate beneath, of seven foote long, but thought
It was impossible to scape; he sate yet where he fought
And hurld out lances thicke as haile at all men that assaid
To fire the ship—with whom he found his hands so overlaid
That on his souldiers thus he cryed: ‘O friends, fight I alone?
Expect ye more wals at your backes? Townes rampir'd here are none—
No citizens to take ye in, no helpe in any kind.
We are, I tell you, in Troy's fields, have nought but seas behind
And foes before, farre, farre, from Greece. For shame, obey commands;
There is no mercie in the warres; your healthes lie in your hands.’
Thus rag'd he, and powr'd out his darts: who ever he espied
Come neare the vessell arm'd with fire, on his fierce dart he died.
All that pleasd Hector made him mad, all, that his thanks would erne—
Of which twelve men, his most resolv'd, lay dead before his sterne.
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