[. . .] the king then left his coach
To grave Idaeus , and went on; made his resolv'd approach:
And enterd in a goodly roome; where, with his Princes sate
Jove -lov'd Achilles , at their feast; two onely kept the state
Of his attendance, Alcymus , and Lord Automedon .
At Priams entrie; a great time, Achilles gaz'd upon
His wonderd-at approach; nor eate: the rest did nothing see,
While close he came up; with his hands, fast holding the bent knee
Of Hectors conqueror; and kist that large man-slaughtring hand,

Achilles banefull wrath resound, O Goddesse, that imposd
Infinite sorrowes on the Greekes ; and many brave soules losd
From breasts Heroique: sent them farre, to that invisible cave
That no light comforts: and their lims, to dogs and vultures gave.
To all which, Joves will gave effect; from whom, first strife begunne,
Betwixt Atrides , king of men; and Thetis godlike Sonne.

The Wrath of Peleus Son, O Muse, resound;
Whose dire Effects the Grecian Army found:
And many a Heroe, King, and hardy Knight,
Were sent, in early Youth, to Shades of Night:
Their Limbs a Prey to Dogs and Vulturs made;
So was the Sov'reign Will of Jove obey'd:
From that ill-omen'd Hour when Strife begun,
Betwixt Atrides Great, and Thetis God-like Son.

Thus to Glaucus spake
Divine Sarpedon , since he did not find
Others as great in Place, as great in Mind.
Above the rest, why is our Pomp, our Power?
Our flocks, our herds, and our possessions more?
Why all the Tributes Land and Sea affords
Heap'd in great Chargers, load our sumptuous boards?
Our chearful Guests carowse the sparkling tears
Of the rich Grape, whilst Musick charms their ears.
Why as we pass, do those on Xanthus shore,
As Gods behold us, and as Gods adore?
But that as well in danger, as degree,

. . . 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 Sarpedons 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

This speech all Troians did applaud; who from their traces losde
Their sweating horse; which severally with headstals they reposde,
And fastned by their chariots; when others brought from towne
Fat sheepe and oxen, instantly; bread, wine; and hewed downe
Huge store of wood: the winds transferd, into the friendly skie,
Their suppers savour; to the which, they sate delightfully,
And spent all night in open field; fires round about them shinde;
As when about the silver Moone, when aire is free from winde,

His hand came from the east,
And in His wrist lay all eternity;
And every atom of His mythic weight
Was poised between His fist and bent left leg.
Your eyes lurched out. Achilles' helmet rang
Far and away beneath the cannon-bones of Trojan horses,
And you were footless . . . staggering . . . amazed . . .
Between the clumps of dying, dying yourself,
Dazed by the brilliance in your eyes,
The noise — like weirs heard far away —
Dabbling your astounded fingers
In the vomit on your chest.

At this th' Impatient Hero sowrly smil'd:
His Heart, impetuous in his Bosom boil'd,
And justled by two Tides of equal sway,
Stood, for a while, suspended in his way.
Betwixt his Reason, and his Rage untam'd;
One whisper'd soft, and one aloud reclaim'd:
That only counsell'd to the safer side;
This to the Sword, his ready Hand apply'd.
Unpunish'd to support th' Affront was hard:
Nor easy was th' Attempt to force the Guard.
But soon the thirst of Vengeance fir'd his Blood:

Well may that kisse be sweet that's giv'n t' a sleek
And fragrant rose of a vermilion cheek;
And understanding tasters (as are true
And happy Lovers) will commend that too.
'Tis a dead kisse, say I, and must be poor,
Which the place kist hath no means to restore.
But the sweet ecchoing, and the Dove-like billing
Of two encountring Mouthes, when both are willing;
And when at once both Loves advance their bows,
Their shafts drawn home, at once sound at the loose,
(How sweet is such Revenge!) This is true kissing,

Blown in the morning, thou shalt fade ere noon.
What boots a life which in such haste forsakes thee?
Thou'rt wondrous frolic, being to die so soon,
And passing proud a little colour makes thee.

If thee thy brittle beauty so deceives,
Know then the thing that swells thee is thy bane;
For the same beauty doth, in bloody leaves.
The sentence of thy early death contain.
Some clown's coarse lungs will poison thy sweet flower,
If by the careless plough thou shalt be torn;
And many Herods lie in wait each hour