Book 9
So held the Troyans sleeplesse guard: the Greeks to flight were given.
The feeble consort of cold feare (strangely infusde from heaven),
Grief not to be endur'd did wound all Greeks of greatest worth.
And as two laterall-sited winds (the West wind and the North)
Meete at the Thracian sea's blacke breast, joyne in a sodaine blore,
Tumble together the darke waves and powre upon the shore
A mightie deale of froth and weed, with which men manure ground,
So Jove and Troy did drive the Greeks and all their minds confound.
But Agamemnon most of all was tortur'd at his heart,
Who to the voicefull Heralds went and bad them cite, apart,
Each Grecian leader severally, not openly proclaime.
In which he labourd with the first, and all together came.
They sadly sate. The king arose and pour'd out teares as fast
As from a loftie rocke a spring doth his blacke waters cast;
And, deeply sighing, thus bespake the Achives: ‘O my friends,
Princes and leaders of the Greeks, heaven's adverse king extends
His wrath, with too much detriment to my so just designe,
Since he hath often promist me, and bound it with the signe
Of his bent forehead, that this Troy our vengefull hands should race
And safe returne. Yet, now ingag'd, he plagues us with disgrace
When all our trust to him hath drawne so much bloud from our friends.
My glorie, nor my brother's wreake, were the proposed ends
For which he drew you to these toiles, but your whole countrie's shame,
Which had bene huge, to beare the rape of so divine a Dame
Made in despite of our revenge. And yet not that had mov'd
Our powres to these designes if Jove had not our drifts approv'd,
Which, since we see he did for bloud, tis desperate fight in us
To strive with him. Then let us flie: tis flight he urgeth thus.’
Long time still silence held them all. At last did Diomed rise:
‘Atrides, I am first must crosse thy indiscreet advise,
As may become me, being a king, in this our martiall court.
Be not displeasd then, for thy selfe didst broadly misreport
In open field my fortitude, and cald me faint and weake.
Yet I was silent, knowing the time, loth any rites to breake
That appertaind thy publicke rule: yet all the Greekes knew well
(Of every age) thou didst me wrong. As thou then didst refell
My valour first of all the hoast, as of a man dismaid,
So now, with fit occasion given, I first blame thee afraid.
Inconstant Saturn's son hath given inconstant spirits to thee,
And, with a scepter over all, an eminent degree:
But with a scepter's soveraigne grace the chiefe powre, Fortitude,
(To bridle thee) he thought not best thy breast should be endude.
Unhappie king, think'st thou the Greeks are such a silly sort
And so excessive impotent as thy weake words import?
If thy mind move thee to be gone, the way is open: go.
Mycenian ships enow ride neare, that brought thee to this wo.
The rest of Greece will stay, nor stirre, till Troy be overcome
With full eversion—or, if not, but doters of their home,
Will put on wings to flie with thee, my selfe and Sthenelus
Will fight till (trusting favouring Jove) we bring home Troy with us.’
This all applauded and admir'd the spirit of Diomed,
When Nestor (rising from the rest) his speech thus seconded:
‘Tydides, thou art (questionlesse) our strongest Greeke in warre
And gravest in thy counsels too of all that equall are
In place with thee and stand on strength. Nor is there any one
Can blame or contradict thy speech. And yet thou hast not gone
So farre but we must further go. Th' art yong and well mightst be
My yongest sonne, though still I yeeld thy words had high degree
Of wisedome in them to our king, since well they did become
Their right in question and refute inglorious going home.
But I (well knowne thy senior far) will speake and handle all
Yet to propose—which none shall checke, no, not our Generall.
A hater of societie, unjust and wilde is he
That loves intestine warre, being stuft with manlesse crueltie,
And therefore in perswading peace and home-flight we the lesse
May blame our Generall, as one lothe to wrap in more distresse
His loved souldiers. But, because they bravely are resolv'd
To cast lives after toyles before they part in shame involv'd,
Provide we for our honourd stay: obey blacke night and fall
Now to our suppers, then appoint our guards without the wall
And in the bottome of the dike—which guards I wish may stand
Of our brave youth. And, Atreus' son, since thou art in command
Before our other Kings, be first in thy command's effect.
It well becomes thee, since tis both what all thy Peeres expect
And in the royall right of things is no impaire to thee.
Nor shall it stand with lesse than right that they invited be
To supper by thee: all thy tents are amply stor'd with wine
Brought dayly in Greeke ships from Thrace, and to this grace of thine
All necessaries thou hast fit and store of men to wait.
And, many meeting there, thou maist heare every man's conceit
And take the best. It much concernes all Greekes to use advise
Of gravest nature, since so neare our ships our enemies
Have lighted such a sort of fires—with which, what man is joyd?
Looke how all beare themselves this night, so live or be destroyed
All heard and followd his advice. There was appointed then
Seven Captaines of the watch, who forth did march with all their men.
The first was famous Thrasymed, advicefull Nestor's sonne,
Ascalaphus and Ialmen and mightie Merion,
Alphareus and Deipyrus and lovely Lycomed,
Old Creon's joy. These seven bold Lords an hundred souldiers led
In every severd company, and every man his pike,
Some placed on the rampire's top and some amidst the dike.
All fires made and their suppers tooke. Atrides to his tent
Invited all the Peeres of Greece, and food sufficient
Apposde before them, and the Peeres apposde their hands to it.
Hunger and thirst being quickly quencht, to counsell still they sit
And first spake Nestor, who they thought of late advisde so well,
A father grave and rightly wise, who thus his tale did tell:
‘Most high Atrides, since in thee I have intent to end,
From thee will I begin my speech, to whom Jove doth commend
The Empire of so many men and puts into thy hand
A Scepter and establisht lawes, that thou mayst well command
And counsell all men under thee. It therefore doth behove
Thy selfe to speake most, since, of all, thy speeches most will move—
And yet to heare as well as speake, and then performe as well
A free just counsell: in thee still must sticke what others tell.
For me, what in my judgement stands the most convenient
I will advise, and am assur'd advice more competent
Shall not be given: the generall proofe that hath before bene made
Of what I speake confirmes me still, and now may well perswade,
Because I could not then, yet ought, when thou, most royall King,
Even from the tent Achilles' love didst violently bring
Against my counsell, urging thee by all meanes to relent.
But you, obeying your high mind, would venture the event,
Dishonoring our ablest Greeke, a man th' immortals grace.
Againe yet let's deliberate, to make him now embrace
Affection to our generall good and bring his force to field,
Both which kind words and pleasing gifts must make his vertues yeeld.’
‘O father,’ answered the King, ‘my wrongs thou tell'st me right.
Mine owne offence, mine owne tongue grants. One man must stand in fight
For our whole armie: him I wrongd, him Jove loves from his hart:
He shewes it in thus honoring him, who, living thus apart,
Proves us but number, for his want makes all our weaknesse seene.
Yet after my confest offence, soothing my humorous spleene,
I'le sweeten his affects againe with presents infinite,
Which (to approve my firme intent) I'le openly recite—
Seven sacred Tripods free from fire, ten talents of fine gold,
Twentie bright caldrons, twelve yong horse, well-shap't and well-controld,
And victors too, for they have wonne the price at many a race;
That man should not be poore that had but what their winged pace
Hath added to my treasury, nor feele sweet gold's defect.
Seven Lesbian Ladies he shall have that were the most select
And in their needles rarely skild, whom (when he tooke the towne
Of famous Lesbos) I did chuse, who wonne the chiefe renowne
For beautie from their whole faire sexe, amongst whom I'le resigne
Faire Brisis, and I deeply sweare (for any fact of mine
That may discourage her receit) she is untoucht and rests
As he resign'd her. To these gifts (if Jove to our requests
Vouchsafe performance and affoord the worke for which we waite
Of winning Troy) with brasse and gold he shall his navie freight
And (entring when we be at spoile) that princely hand of his
Shall chuse him twentie Troyan Dames, excepting Tyndaris,
The fairest Pergamus infolds; and, if we make retreat
To Argos (cald, of all the world, the Navill or chiefe seat)
He shall become my sonne in law, and I will honour him
Even as Orestes, my sole sonne, that doth in honours swim.
Three daughters in my wel-built court unmarried are and faire,
Laodice, Chrysothemis that hath the golden haire
And Iphianassa; of all three the worthiest let him take
All joynturelesse to Peleus' Court. I will her joyncture make,
And that so great as never yet did any maide preferre—
Seven cities right magnificent I will bestow on her,
Enope and Cardamyle, Hira for herbes renownd,
The faire Æpeia, Pedasus that doth with grapes abound,
Anthæa girded with greene meades, Phera surnam'd Divine,
All whose bright turrets on the seas in sandie Pylos shine.
Th' inhabitants in flockes and heards are wondrous confluent,
Who like a God will honour him and him with gifts present,
And to his throne will contribute what tribute he will rate.
All this I gladly will performe to pacifie his hate.
Let him be milde and tractable: tis for the God of ghosts
To be unrul'd, implacable and seeke the bloud of hoasts,
Whom therefore men do much abhorre: then let him yeeld to me.
I am his greater, being a King and more in yeares than he.’
‘Brave King,’ said Nestor, ‘these rich gifts must needs make him relent.
Chuse then fit legates instantly to greete him at his Tent—
But stay, admit my choice of them, and let them strait be gone:
Jove-loved Phœnix shall be chiefe, then Ajax Telamon
And Prince Ulysses, and on them let these two heralds wait,
Grave Odius and Eurybates. Come, Lords, take water strait,
Make pure your hands, and with sweet words appease Achilles' mind,
Which we will pray the king of Gods may gently make inclin'd.’
All lik't his speech, and on their hands the Heralds water shed:
The youths crownd cups of sacred wine, to all distributed:
But, having sacrific'd and drunke to everie man's content
(With many notes by Nestor given), the Legats forwards went.
With courtship in fit gestures usd he did prepare them well,
But most Ulysses, for his grace did not so much excell.
Such rites beseeme Ambassadors, and Nestor urged these
That their most honours might reflect enrag'd Æacides.
They went along the shore and praid the God that earth doth bind
In brackish chaines they might not faile but bow his mightie mind.
The quarter of the Myrmidons they reacht, and found him set
Delighted with his solemne harpe, which curiously was fret,
With workes conceited, through the verge: the bawdricke that embrac't
His loftie necke was silver twist: this (when his hand laid waste
Eetion's citie) he did chuse as his especiall prise
And (loving sacred musicke well) made it his exercise.
To it he sung the glorious deeds of great Heroes dead,
And his true mind, that practise faild, sweet contemplation fed.
With him, alone and opposite, all silent sat his friend
Attentive and beholding him, who now his song did end.
Th' Ambassadors did forwards preasse, renown'd Ulysses led,
And stood in view. Their sodaine sight his admiration bred,
Who with his harpe and all arose: so did Menœtius' sonne
When he beheld them. Their receipt Achilles thus begun:
‘Health to my Lords: right welcome men assure your selves you be,
Though some necessitie I know doth make you visite me,
Incenst with just cause gainst the Greeks.’ This said, a severall seate
With purple cushions he set forth and did their ease intreate,
And said: ‘Now, friend, our greatest bolle with wine unmixt and neate
Appose these Lords, and of the depth let everie man make proofe.
These are my best-esteemed friends, and underneath my roofe.’
Patroclus did his deare friend's will: and he that did desire
To cheare the Lords (come faint from fight) set on a blasing fire
A great brasse pot and into it a chine of mutton put
And fat Goate's flesh. Automedon held while he peeces cut
To rost and boile right cunningly: then of a well-fed swine
A huge fat shoulder he cuts out and spits it wondrous fine.
His good friend made a goodly fire, of which the force once past,
He laid the spit low, neare the coales, to make it browne at last:
Then sprinkled it with sacred salt and tooke it from the rackes.
This rosted and on dresser set, his friend Patroclus takes
Bread in faire baskets, which set on, Achilles brought the meate
And to divinest Ithacus tooke his opposed seate
Upon the bench. Then did he will his friend to sacrifice,
Who cast sweet incense in the fire to all the Deities.
Thus fell they to their readie food. Hunger and thirst allaid,
Ajax to Phœnix made a signe as if too long they staid
Before they told their Legacie. Ulysses saw him winke
And (filling the great boule with wine) did to Achilles drinke:
‘Health to Achilles! But our plights stand not in need of meate
Who late supt at Atrides' tent, though for thy love we eate
Of many things whereof a part would make a compleat feast.
Nor can we joy in these kind rites that have our hearts opprest,
O Prince, with feare of utter spoile: tis made a question now
If we can save our fleet or not, unlesse thy selfe endow
Thy powers with wonted fortitude. Now Troy and her consorts,
Bold of thy want, have pitcht their tents close to our fleet and forts,
And made a firmament of fires; and now no more they say
Will they be prison'd in their wals, but force their violent way
Even to our ships: and Jove himselfe hath with his lightnings showd
Their bold adventures happie signes, and Hector growes so prowd
Of his huge strength, borne out by Jove, that fearfully he raves,
Presuming neither men nor Gods can interrupt his braves.
Wilde rage invades him, and he prayes that soone the sacred morne
Would light his furie, boasting then our streamers shall be torne
And all our navall ornaments fall by his conquering stroke:
Our ships shall burne and we our selves lie stifl'd in the smoke.
And I am seriously affraid, heaven will performe his threats
And that tis fatall to us all, farre from our native seates,
To perish in victorious Troy. But rise, though it be late,
Deliver the afflicted Greeks from Troy's tumultuous hate.
It will hereafter be thy griefe, when no strength can suffise
To remedie th' effected threats of our calamities.
Consider these affaires in time, while thou maist use thy powre,
And have the grace to turne from Greece fate's unrecovered houre.
O friend! thou knowest thy royall Sire forewarnd what should be done,
That day he sent thee from his Court to honour Atreus' sonne.
“My sonne,” said he, “the victory let Jove and Pallas use
At their high pleasures: but do thou no honor'd meanes refuse
That may advance her. In fit bounds containe thy mightie mind,
Nor let the knowledge of thy strength be factiously inclind,
Contriving mischiefes: be to fame and generall good profest:
The more will all sorts honour thee. Benignitie is best.”
Thus charg'd thy sire, which thou forgetst. Yet now those thoughts appease
That torture thy great spirit with wrath: which if thou wilt surcease,
The King will merit it with gifts, and (if thou wilt give eare)
I'le tell how much he offers thee—yet thou sitst angrie here.
Seven Tripods that no fire must touch; twise ten pans fit for flame;
Ten talents of fine gold; twelve horse that ever overcame
And brought huge prises from the field with swiftnes of their feete.
That man should beare no poore account, nor want gold's quickning sweete,
That had but what he won with them. Seven worthiest Lesbian Dames
Renown'd for skill in houswifrie and beare the soveraigne fames
For beautie from their generall sexe; which at thy overthrow
Of wel-built Lesbos he did chuse; and these he will bestow,
And with these her he tooke from thee, whom (by his state) since then
He sweares he toucht not, as faire Dames use to be toucht by men.
All these are readie for thee now: and, if at length we take,
By helpes of Gods, this wealthie towne, thy ships shall burthen make
Of gold and brasse at thy desires, when we the spoile divide;
And twentie beautious Troyan Dames thou shalt select beside
(Next Helen) the most beautifull. And (when return'd we be
To Argos) be his sonne in law: for he will honour thee
Like his Orestes, his sole sonne, maintaind in height of blisse.
Three daughters beautifie his Court, the faire Chrysothemis,
Laodice and Iphianesse: of all, the fairest take
To Peleus' thy grave father's Court and never joynture make.
He will the jointure make himselfe—so great as never Sire
Gave to his daughter's nuptials: seven cities left entire,
Cardamyle and Enope and Hira full of flowers,
Anthæa for sweet meadowes praisd, and Phera deckt with towers,
The bright Æpeia, Pedasus that doth God Bacchus please,
All on the sandie Pylos' soyle are seated neare the seas:
Th' inhabitants in droves and flocks exceeding wealthie be,
Who like a God with worthie gifts will gladly honour thee
And tribute of especiall rate to thy high scepter pay.
All this he freely will performe thy anger to allay.
But if thy hate to him be more than his gifts may represse,
Yet pittie all the other Greeks in such extreme distresse,
Who with religion honour thee, and to their desperate ill
Thou shalt triumphant glorie bring and Hector thou maist kill
When pride makes him encounter thee, fild with a banefull sprite,
Who vaunts our whole fleet brought not one equall to him in fight.’
Swift-foot Æacides replide: ‘Divine Laertes’ sonne,
Tis requisite I should be short and shew what place hath wonne
Thy serious speech, affirming nought but what you shall approve
Establisht in my settled heart, that in the rest I move
No murmure nor exception—for like hell mouth I loath
Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguisht troth.
What fits the freenesse of my mind my speech shall make displaid:
Nor Atreus' sonne nor all the Greeks shall winne me to their aid.
Their suite is wretchedly enforc't, to free their owne despaires,
And my life never shall be hir'd with thanklesse desperate praires.
For never had I benefite, that ever foild the foe:
Even share hath he that keepes his tent and he to field doth go:
With equall honour cowards die and men most valiant,
The much performer and the man that can of nothing vant.
No overplus I ever found when, with my mind's most strife
To do them good, to dangerous fight I have exposd my life.
But even as to unfeatherd birds the carefull dam brings meate,
Which when she hath bestow'd, her selfe hath nothing left to eat:
So when my broken sleepes have drawne the nights t' extremest length
And ended many bloodie daies with still-employed strength,
To guard their weaknesse and preserve their wives' contents infract,
I have been robd before their eyes. Twelve cities I have sackt,
Assaild by sea, eleven by land, while this siege held at Troy,
And of all these, what was most deare and most might crowne the joy
Of Agamemnon, he enjoyd, who here behind remaind:
Which when he tooke, a few he gave and many things retaind;
Other to Optimates and Kings he gave, who hold them fast.
Yet mine he forceth: onely I sit with my losse disgrac't.
But so he gaine a lovely Dame to be his bed's delight,
It is enough. For what cause else do Greeks and Troyans fight?
Why brought he hither such an hoast? was it not for a Dame,
For faire-hair'd Helen? And doth love alone the hearts inflame
Of the Atrides to their wives, of all the men that move?
Every discreet and honest mind cares for his private love
As much as they—as I my selfe lov'd Brisis as my life,
Although my captive, and had will to take her for my wife:
Whom since he forc't, preventing me, in vaine he shall prolong
Hopes to appease me, that know well the deepnesse of my wrong.
But, good Ulysses, with thy selfe and all you other Kings,
Let him take stomacke to repell Troy's firie threatenings.
Much hath he done without my helpe—built him a goodly fort,
Cut a dike by it pitcht with pales, broad and of deepe import.
And cannot all these helpes represse this kil-man Hector's fright?
When I was arm'd amongst the Greekes, he would not offer fight
Without the shadow of his wals, but to the Scæan ports
Or to the holy Beech of Jove come backt with his consorts—
Where once he stood my charge alone and hardly made retreat:
And to make new proofe of our powers the doubt is not so great.
Tomorrow then with sacrifice, perform'd t' imperiall Jove
And all the Gods, I'le lanch my fleet and all my men remove,
Which (if thou wilt use so thy sight, or think'st it worth respect)
In forehead of the morne thine eyes shall see with sailes erect
Amidst the fishie Hellespont, helpt with laborious oares.
And if the sea-god send free saile, the fruitfull Phthian shores
Within three dayes we shall attaine—where I have store of prise,
Left when with prejudice I came to these indignities.
There have I gold as well as here and store of ruddie brasse,
Dames slender, elegantly girt, and steele as bright as glasse.
These will I take as I retire, as shares I firmly save,
Though Agamemnon be so base to take the gifts he gave.
Tell him all this, and openly, I on your honors charge,
That others may take shame to heare his lust's command so large.
And if there yet remaine a man he hopeth to deceive
(Being dide in endlesse impudence), that man may learne to leave
His trust and Empire. But, alas, though like a wolfe he be,
Shamelesse and rude, he durst not take my prise and looke on me.
I never will partake his works nor counsels as before:
He once deceiv'd and injur'd me, and he shall never more
Tie my affections with his words: enough is the increase
Of one successe in his deceits, which let him joy in peace
And beare it to a wretched end. Wise Jove hath reft his braine
To bring him plagues, and these his gifts I (as my foes) disdaine.
Even in the numnesse of calme death I will revengefull be,
Though ten or twentie times so much he would bestow on me—
All he hath here or any where, or Orchomen containes,
To which men bring their wealth for strength, or all the store remaines
In circuite of Ægyptian Thebes, where much hid treasure lies,
Whose wals containe an hundred ports of so admir'd a size
Two hundred souldiers may, afront, with horse and chariots passe.
Nor, would he amplifie all this like sand, or dust, or grasse,
Should he reclaime me till his wreake payd me for all the paines
That with his contumely burnd like poison in my veines.
Nor shall his daughter be my wife, although she might contend
With golden Venus for her forme, or if she did transcend
Blew-eyd Minerva for her works: let him a Greeke select
Fit for her, and a greater King. For, if the Gods protect
My safetie to my father's court, he shall chuse me a wife.
Many faire Achive Princesses, of unimpeached life,
In Helle and in Phthia live whose Sires do cities hold,
Of whom I can have whom I will. And more an hundred fold
My true mind in my countrie likes to take a lawfull wife
Than in another nation, and there delight my life
With those goods that my father got much rather than die here.
Not all the wealth of wel-built Troy possest when peace was there,
All that Apollo's marble Fane in stonie Pythos holds,
I value equall with the life that my free breast infolds.
Sheepe, Oxen, Tripods, crest-deckt horse, though lost, may come againe,
But, when the white guard of our teeth no longer can containe
Our humane soule, away it flies; and, once gone, never more
To her fraile mansion any man can her lost powres restore.
And therefore since my mother queene (fam'd for her silver feet)
Told me two fates about my death in my direction meet—
The one, that, if I here remaine t' assist our victorie,
My safe returne shall never live, my fame shall never die:
If my returne obtaine successe, much of my fame decayes
But death shall linger his approach and I live many dayes.
This being reveal'd, twere foolish pride t' abridge my life for praise.
Then with my selfe, I will advise others to hoise their saile,
For gainst the height of Ilion you never shall prevaile:
Jove with his hand protecteth it and makes the souldiers bold.
This tell the King in every part, for so grave Legates should,
That they may better counsels use to save their fleet and friends
By their owne valours, since this course, drown'd in my anger, ends.
Phœnix may in my tent repose and in the morne stere course
For Phthia, if he thinks it good; if not, I'le use no force.’
All wondred at his sterne reply, and Phœnix, full of feares
His words would be more weake than just, supplide their wants with teares:
‘If thy returne incline thee thus, Peleus' renowned joy,
And thou wilt let our ships be burnd with harmfull fire of Troy,
Since thou art angrie, O my sonne, how shall I after be
Alone in these extremes of death, relinquished by thee?
I, whom thy royall father sent as orderer of thy force
When to Atrides from his Court he left thee for this course,
Yet young, and when in skill of armes thou didst not so abound
Nor hadst the habite of discourse that makes men so renownd;
In all which I was set by him t' instruct thee as my sonne,
That thou mightst speake when speech was fit, and do when deeds were done,
Not sit as dumbe for want of words, idle for skill to move.
I would not then be left by thee, deare sonne, begot in love—
No, not if God would promise me to raze the prints of time
Carv'd in my bosome and my browes and grace me with the prime
Of manly youth as when at first I left sweet Helle's shore,
Deckt with faire Dames, and fled the grudge my angrie father bore;
Who was the faire Amyntor cald, surnam'd Ormenides,
And for a faire-haird harlot's sake, that his affects could please,
Contemnd my mother his true wife, who ceaslesse urged me
To use his harlot Clytia, and still would claspe my knee
To do her will—that so my Sire might turne his love to hate
Of that lewde Dame, converting it to comfort her estate.
At last I was content to prove, to do my mother good
And reconcile my father's love; who straight suspitious stood,
Pursuing me with many a curse, and to the Furies praide
No Dame might love, nor bring me seed. The Deities obayd
That governe hell, infernall Jove and sterne Persephone.
Then durst I in no longer date with my sterne father be:
Yet did my friends and neare allies enclose me with desires
Not to depart, kild sheepe, bores, beeves, rost them at solemne fires,
And from my father's tuns we drunke exceeding store of wine.
Nine nights they guarded me by turns: their fires did ceaslesse shine,
One in the porch of his strong hall, and in the portall one
Before my chamber: but, when day beneath the tenth night shone,
I brake my chamber's thick-fram'd dores and through the hal's guard past,
Unseene of any man or maide. Through Greece, then, rich and vast,
I fled to Phthia, nurse of sheepe, and came to Peleus' Court,
Who entertaind me heartily and in as gracious sort
As any Sire his onely sonne, borne when his strength is spent
And blest with great possessions to leave to his descent.
He made me rich, and to my charge did much command commend.
I dwelt in th' utmost region rich Phthia doth extend
And governd the Dolopians and made thee what thou art,
O thou that like the Gods art fram'd. Since, dearest to my heart,
I usde thee so, thou lov'dst none else, nor any where wouldst eate
Till I had crownd my knee with thee and karv'd thee tenderst meate
And given thee wine so much, for love, that in thy infancie
(Which still discretion must protect and a continuall eye)
My bosome lovingly sustain'd the wine thine could not beare.
Then, now my strength needs thine as much, be mine to thee as deare.
Much have I sufferd for thy love, much labour'd, wished much,
Thinking, since I must have no heire (the Gods' decrees are such),
I would adopt thy selfe my heire: to thee my heart did give
What any Sire could give his sonne: in thee I hop't to live.
O mitigate thy mightie spirits! it fits not one that moves
The hearts of all to live unmov'd, and succour hates for loves.
The Gods themselves are flexible, whose vertues, honors, powers
Are more than thine; yet they will bend their breasts as we bend ours.
Perfumes, benigne devotions, savors of offrings burnd
And holy rites the engines are with which their hearts are turnd
By men that pray to them, whose faith their sinnes have falsified.
For prayers are daughters of great Jove, lame, wrinkled, ruddie-eyd
And ever following Injury, who (strong and sound of feet)
Flies through the world afflicting men. Beleeving prayers yet
(To all that love that seed of Jove) the certaine blessing get
To have Jove heare, and helpe them too; but, if he shall refuse
And stand inflexible to them, they flie to Jove and use
Their powres against him, that the wrongs he doth to them may fall
On his owne head and pay those paines whose cure he failes to call.
Then, great Achilles, honour thou this sacred seed of Jove
And yeeld to them, since other men of greatest minds they move.
If Agamemnon would not give the selfe-same gifts he vowes
But offer other afterwards and in his stil-bent browes
Entombe his honour and his word, I would not thus exhort
(With wrath appeasde) thy aide to Greece, though plagu'd in heaviest sort.
But much he presently will give and after yeeld the rest,
T' assure which he hath sent to thee the men thou lovest best
And most renownd of all the hoast, that they might soften thee.
Then let not both their paines and prayers lost and despised be.
Before which, none could reprehend the tumult of thy heart,
But now to rest inexpiate were much too rude a part.
Of ancient worthies we have heard, when they were more displeasde,
(To their high fames) with gifts and prayers they have bene still appeasde.
For instance, I remember well a fact perform'd of old,
Which to you all my friends I'le tell. The Curets warres did hold
With the well-fought Ætolians, where mutuall lives had end
About the citie Calydon. Th' Ætolians did defend
Their flourishing countrie, which to spoile the Curets did contend.
Diana with the golden throne with OEneus much incenc't,
Since with his plenteous land's first fruits she was not reverenc't,
Yet other Gods with Hecatombes had feasts, and she alone
(Great Jove's bright daughter) left unserv'd (or by oblivion
Or undue knowledge of her dues) much hurt in heart she swore.
And she, enrag'd, excited much, she sent a sylvan Bore
From their greene groves, with wounding tuskes, who usually did spoile
King OEneus' fields, his loftie woods layd prostrate on the soile,
Rent by the roots trees fresh, adornd with fragrant apple flow'rs;
Which Meleager, OEneus' sonne, slue with assembled pow'rs
Of hunters and of fiercest hounds from many cities brought.
For such he was that with few lives his death could not be bought;
Heapes of dead humanes by his rage the funerall piles applide,
Yet (slaine at last) the Goddesse stird about his head and hide
A wondrous tumult, and a warre betwixt the Curets wrought
And brave Ætolians. All the while fierce Meleager fought,
Ill far'd the Curets: neare the wals none durst advance his crest
Though they were many; but, when wrath inflam'd his hautie brest
(Which oft the firme mind of the wise with passion doth infest),
Since twixt his mother Queene and him arose a deadly strife,
He left the Court and privately liv'd with his lawfull wife,
Faire Cleopatra, femall birth of bright Marpessa's paine
And of Ideus, who of all terrestriall men did raigne
(At that time) king of fortitude, and for Marpessa's sake
Gainst wanton Phœbus, king of flames, his bow in hand did take,
Since he had ravisht her, his joy, whom her friends after gave
The surname of Alcyone, because they could not save
Their daughter from Alcyone's Fate. In Cleopatra's armes
Lay Meleager, feeding on his anger for the harmes
His mother praid might fall on him, who for her brother slaine
By Meleager griev'd and praid the Gods to wreake her paine
With all the horror could be pour'd upon her furious birth.
Still knockt she with her impious hands the many-feeding earth,
To urge sterne Pluto and his Queene t' incline their vengefull eares,
Fell on her knees and all her breast dewd with her fierie teares
To make them massacre her sonne, whose wrath enrag'd her thus.
Erinnys (wandring through the aire) heard, out of Erebus,
Pray'rs fit for her unpleased mind: yet Meleager lay
Obscurd in furie. Then the bruit of the tumultuous fray
Rung through the turrets as they scal'd: then came the Ætolian Peeres
To Meleager with low suits, to rise and free their feares:
Then sent they the chiefe Priests of Gods with offered gifts t' attone
His differing furie, bad him chuse in sweet-soild Calydon
Of the most fat and yeeldie soile what with an hundred steares
Might in a hundred dayes be plowde—halfe that rich vintage beares
And halfe of naked earth to plow. Yet yeelded not his ire.
Then to his loftie chamber dore ascends his royall Sire
With ruthfull plaints, shooke the strong barres: then came his sisters' cries:
His mother then, and all, intreate. Yet still more stiffe he lies.
His friends most reverend, most esteem'd—yet none impression tooke,
Till the high turrets where he lay and his strong chamber shooke
With the invading enemie, who now forc't dreadfull way
Along the cittie. Then his wife (in pittifull dismay)
Besought him, weeping, telling him the miseries sustaind
By all the citizens, whose towne the enemie had gaind,
Men slaughterd, children bondslaves made, sweet Ladies forc't with lust,
Fires climing towres and turning them to heapes of fruitlesse dust.
These dangers softned his steele heart: up the stout Prince arose,
Indude his bodie with rich armes and freed th' Ætolians' woes—
His smotherd anger giving aire, which gifts did not asswage
But his owne perill. And because he did not disingage
Their lives for gifts, their gifts he lost. But for my sake, deare friend,
Be not thou bent to see our plights to these extremes descend
Ere thou assist us: be not so by thy ill angell turnd
From thine owne honor: it were shame to see our navie burnd
And then come with thy timelesse aide. For offerd presents come
And all the Greeks will honour thee, as of celestiall roome:
But if without these gifts thou fight, forc't by thy private woe,
Thou wilt be nothing so renown'd, though thou repell the foe.’
Achilles answerd the last part of this oration thus:
‘Phœnix, renown'd and reverend, the honors urgde on us
We need not: Jove doth honor me and to my safetie sees,
And will whiles I retaine a spirit or can command my knees.
Then do not thou, with teares and woes, impassion my affects,
Becoming gracious to my foe. Nor fits it the respects
Of thy vowd love to honor him that hath dishonord me,
Lest such loose kindnesse lose his heart that yet is firme to thee.
It were thy praise to hurt, with me, the hurter of my state,
Since halfe my honor and my Realme thou maist participate.
Let these Lords then returne th' event, and do thou here repose,
And when darke sleepe breakes with the day our counsels shall disclose
The course of our returne or stay.’ This said, he with his eye
Made to his friend a covert signe to hasten instantly
A good soft bed, that the old Prince, soone as the Peeres were gone,
Might take his rest: when, souldier-like, brave Ajax Telamon
Spake to Ulysses, as with thought Achilles was not worth
The high direction of his speech, that stood so sternly forth,
Unmov'd with th' other Orators; and spake, not to appease
Pelides' wrath, but to depart. His arguments were these:
‘High-issued Laertiades! let us insist no more
On his perswasion. I perceive the world would end before
Our speeches end in this affaire. We must with utmost haste
Returne his answer, though but bad: the Peeres are else-where plac't
And will not rise till we returne. Great Thetis' sonne hath stor'd
Prowd wrath within him as his wealth, and will not be implor'd,
Rude that he is; nor his friends' love respects, do what they can,
Wherein past all we honourd him. O unremorsefull man!
Another for his brother slaine, another for his sonne,
Accepts of satisfaction; and he the deed hath done
Lives in belov'd societie long after his amends,
To which his foe's high heart, for gifts, with patience condescends.
But thee a wild and cruell spirit the Gods for plague have given,
And for one girle—of whose faire sexe we come to offer seaven
The most exempt for excellence and many a better prise.
Then put a sweet mind in thy breast, respect thy own allies,
Though others make thee not remisse. A multitude we are,
Sprung of thy royall familie, and our supremest care
Is to be most familiar and hold most love with thee
Of all the Greeks, how great an host soever here there be.’
He answerd: ‘Noble Telamon, Prince of our souldiers here,
Out of thy heart I know thou speakst, and as thou holdst me deare:
But still, as often as I thinke how rudely I was usd
And like a stranger for all rites fit for our good refusd,
My heart doth swell against the man that durst be so profane
To violate his sacred place—not for my private bane,
But since wrackt vertue's generall lawes he shamelesse did infringe,
For whose sake I will loose the reines and give mine anger swinge
Without my wisedome's least impeach. He is a foole, and base,
That pitties vice-plagu'd minds, when paine, not love of right, gives place.
And therefore tell your king, my Lords, my just wrath will not care
For all his cares before my tents and navie charged are
By warlike Hector, making way through flockes of Grecian lives,
Enlightned by their navall fire: but when his rage arrives
About my tent and sable barke I doubt not but to shield
Them and my selfe, and make him flie the there-strong-bounded field.’
This said, each one but kist the cup and to the ships retir'd,
Ulysses first. Patroclus then the men and maids requir'd
To make grave Phœnix' bed with speed and see he nothing lacks.
They straite obeyd, and thereon laid the subtile fruite of flax
And warme sheep-fels for covering: and there the old man slept,
Attending till the golden Morne her usuall station kept.
Achilles lay in th' inner roome of his tent richly wrought,
And that faire Ladie by his side that he from Lesbos brought,
Bright Diomeda, Phorbas' seed. Patroclus did embrace
The beautious Iphis, given to him when his bold friend did race
The loftie Scyrus, that was kept in Enyeius' hold.
Now at the tent of Atreus' sonne, each man with cups of gold
Receiv'd th' Ambassadors returnd: all clusterd neare to know
What newes they brought, which first the king would have Ulysses show:
‘Say, most praise-worthie Ithacus, the Grecians' great renowne,
Will he defend us? or not yet will his prowd stomacke downe?’
Ulysses made replie: ‘Not yet will he appeased be,
But growes more wrathfull, prizing light thy offerd gifts and thee,
And wils thee to consult with us and take some other course
To save our armie and our fleete, and sayes, with all his force,
The morne shall light him on his way to Phthia's wished soile,
For never shall high-seated Troy be sackt with all our toile,
Jove holds his hand twixt us and it, the souldiers gather heart.
Thus he replies, which Ajax here can equally impart
And both these Heralds. Phœnix stayes, for so was his desire
To go with him, if he thought good; if not, he might retire.’
All wondred he should be so sterne: at last bold Diomed spake:
‘Would God, Atrides, thy request were yet to undertake,
And all thy gifts unofferd him! He's proud enough beside,
But this ambassage thou hast sent will make him burst with pride.
But let us suffer him to stay or go at his desire,
Fight when his stomacke serves him best, or when Jove shall inspire.
Meane while, our watch being strongly held, let us a little rest
After our food: strength lives by both, and vertue is their guest.
Then, when the rosie-fingerd Morne holds out her silver light,
Bring forth thy host, encourage all, and be thou first in fight.’
The kings admir'd the fortitude that so divinely mov'd
The skilfull horseman Diomed, and his advice approv'd.
Then, with their nightly sacrifice, each tooke his severall tent,
Where all receiv'd the soveraigne gifts soft Somnus did present.
The feeble consort of cold feare (strangely infusde from heaven),
Grief not to be endur'd did wound all Greeks of greatest worth.
And as two laterall-sited winds (the West wind and the North)
Meete at the Thracian sea's blacke breast, joyne in a sodaine blore,
Tumble together the darke waves and powre upon the shore
A mightie deale of froth and weed, with which men manure ground,
So Jove and Troy did drive the Greeks and all their minds confound.
But Agamemnon most of all was tortur'd at his heart,
Who to the voicefull Heralds went and bad them cite, apart,
Each Grecian leader severally, not openly proclaime.
In which he labourd with the first, and all together came.
They sadly sate. The king arose and pour'd out teares as fast
As from a loftie rocke a spring doth his blacke waters cast;
And, deeply sighing, thus bespake the Achives: ‘O my friends,
Princes and leaders of the Greeks, heaven's adverse king extends
His wrath, with too much detriment to my so just designe,
Since he hath often promist me, and bound it with the signe
Of his bent forehead, that this Troy our vengefull hands should race
And safe returne. Yet, now ingag'd, he plagues us with disgrace
When all our trust to him hath drawne so much bloud from our friends.
My glorie, nor my brother's wreake, were the proposed ends
For which he drew you to these toiles, but your whole countrie's shame,
Which had bene huge, to beare the rape of so divine a Dame
Made in despite of our revenge. And yet not that had mov'd
Our powres to these designes if Jove had not our drifts approv'd,
Which, since we see he did for bloud, tis desperate fight in us
To strive with him. Then let us flie: tis flight he urgeth thus.’
Long time still silence held them all. At last did Diomed rise:
‘Atrides, I am first must crosse thy indiscreet advise,
As may become me, being a king, in this our martiall court.
Be not displeasd then, for thy selfe didst broadly misreport
In open field my fortitude, and cald me faint and weake.
Yet I was silent, knowing the time, loth any rites to breake
That appertaind thy publicke rule: yet all the Greekes knew well
(Of every age) thou didst me wrong. As thou then didst refell
My valour first of all the hoast, as of a man dismaid,
So now, with fit occasion given, I first blame thee afraid.
Inconstant Saturn's son hath given inconstant spirits to thee,
And, with a scepter over all, an eminent degree:
But with a scepter's soveraigne grace the chiefe powre, Fortitude,
(To bridle thee) he thought not best thy breast should be endude.
Unhappie king, think'st thou the Greeks are such a silly sort
And so excessive impotent as thy weake words import?
If thy mind move thee to be gone, the way is open: go.
Mycenian ships enow ride neare, that brought thee to this wo.
The rest of Greece will stay, nor stirre, till Troy be overcome
With full eversion—or, if not, but doters of their home,
Will put on wings to flie with thee, my selfe and Sthenelus
Will fight till (trusting favouring Jove) we bring home Troy with us.’
This all applauded and admir'd the spirit of Diomed,
When Nestor (rising from the rest) his speech thus seconded:
‘Tydides, thou art (questionlesse) our strongest Greeke in warre
And gravest in thy counsels too of all that equall are
In place with thee and stand on strength. Nor is there any one
Can blame or contradict thy speech. And yet thou hast not gone
So farre but we must further go. Th' art yong and well mightst be
My yongest sonne, though still I yeeld thy words had high degree
Of wisedome in them to our king, since well they did become
Their right in question and refute inglorious going home.
But I (well knowne thy senior far) will speake and handle all
Yet to propose—which none shall checke, no, not our Generall.
A hater of societie, unjust and wilde is he
That loves intestine warre, being stuft with manlesse crueltie,
And therefore in perswading peace and home-flight we the lesse
May blame our Generall, as one lothe to wrap in more distresse
His loved souldiers. But, because they bravely are resolv'd
To cast lives after toyles before they part in shame involv'd,
Provide we for our honourd stay: obey blacke night and fall
Now to our suppers, then appoint our guards without the wall
And in the bottome of the dike—which guards I wish may stand
Of our brave youth. And, Atreus' son, since thou art in command
Before our other Kings, be first in thy command's effect.
It well becomes thee, since tis both what all thy Peeres expect
And in the royall right of things is no impaire to thee.
Nor shall it stand with lesse than right that they invited be
To supper by thee: all thy tents are amply stor'd with wine
Brought dayly in Greeke ships from Thrace, and to this grace of thine
All necessaries thou hast fit and store of men to wait.
And, many meeting there, thou maist heare every man's conceit
And take the best. It much concernes all Greekes to use advise
Of gravest nature, since so neare our ships our enemies
Have lighted such a sort of fires—with which, what man is joyd?
Looke how all beare themselves this night, so live or be destroyed
All heard and followd his advice. There was appointed then
Seven Captaines of the watch, who forth did march with all their men.
The first was famous Thrasymed, advicefull Nestor's sonne,
Ascalaphus and Ialmen and mightie Merion,
Alphareus and Deipyrus and lovely Lycomed,
Old Creon's joy. These seven bold Lords an hundred souldiers led
In every severd company, and every man his pike,
Some placed on the rampire's top and some amidst the dike.
All fires made and their suppers tooke. Atrides to his tent
Invited all the Peeres of Greece, and food sufficient
Apposde before them, and the Peeres apposde their hands to it.
Hunger and thirst being quickly quencht, to counsell still they sit
And first spake Nestor, who they thought of late advisde so well,
A father grave and rightly wise, who thus his tale did tell:
‘Most high Atrides, since in thee I have intent to end,
From thee will I begin my speech, to whom Jove doth commend
The Empire of so many men and puts into thy hand
A Scepter and establisht lawes, that thou mayst well command
And counsell all men under thee. It therefore doth behove
Thy selfe to speake most, since, of all, thy speeches most will move—
And yet to heare as well as speake, and then performe as well
A free just counsell: in thee still must sticke what others tell.
For me, what in my judgement stands the most convenient
I will advise, and am assur'd advice more competent
Shall not be given: the generall proofe that hath before bene made
Of what I speake confirmes me still, and now may well perswade,
Because I could not then, yet ought, when thou, most royall King,
Even from the tent Achilles' love didst violently bring
Against my counsell, urging thee by all meanes to relent.
But you, obeying your high mind, would venture the event,
Dishonoring our ablest Greeke, a man th' immortals grace.
Againe yet let's deliberate, to make him now embrace
Affection to our generall good and bring his force to field,
Both which kind words and pleasing gifts must make his vertues yeeld.’
‘O father,’ answered the King, ‘my wrongs thou tell'st me right.
Mine owne offence, mine owne tongue grants. One man must stand in fight
For our whole armie: him I wrongd, him Jove loves from his hart:
He shewes it in thus honoring him, who, living thus apart,
Proves us but number, for his want makes all our weaknesse seene.
Yet after my confest offence, soothing my humorous spleene,
I'le sweeten his affects againe with presents infinite,
Which (to approve my firme intent) I'le openly recite—
Seven sacred Tripods free from fire, ten talents of fine gold,
Twentie bright caldrons, twelve yong horse, well-shap't and well-controld,
And victors too, for they have wonne the price at many a race;
That man should not be poore that had but what their winged pace
Hath added to my treasury, nor feele sweet gold's defect.
Seven Lesbian Ladies he shall have that were the most select
And in their needles rarely skild, whom (when he tooke the towne
Of famous Lesbos) I did chuse, who wonne the chiefe renowne
For beautie from their whole faire sexe, amongst whom I'le resigne
Faire Brisis, and I deeply sweare (for any fact of mine
That may discourage her receit) she is untoucht and rests
As he resign'd her. To these gifts (if Jove to our requests
Vouchsafe performance and affoord the worke for which we waite
Of winning Troy) with brasse and gold he shall his navie freight
And (entring when we be at spoile) that princely hand of his
Shall chuse him twentie Troyan Dames, excepting Tyndaris,
The fairest Pergamus infolds; and, if we make retreat
To Argos (cald, of all the world, the Navill or chiefe seat)
He shall become my sonne in law, and I will honour him
Even as Orestes, my sole sonne, that doth in honours swim.
Three daughters in my wel-built court unmarried are and faire,
Laodice, Chrysothemis that hath the golden haire
And Iphianassa; of all three the worthiest let him take
All joynturelesse to Peleus' Court. I will her joyncture make,
And that so great as never yet did any maide preferre—
Seven cities right magnificent I will bestow on her,
Enope and Cardamyle, Hira for herbes renownd,
The faire Æpeia, Pedasus that doth with grapes abound,
Anthæa girded with greene meades, Phera surnam'd Divine,
All whose bright turrets on the seas in sandie Pylos shine.
Th' inhabitants in flockes and heards are wondrous confluent,
Who like a God will honour him and him with gifts present,
And to his throne will contribute what tribute he will rate.
All this I gladly will performe to pacifie his hate.
Let him be milde and tractable: tis for the God of ghosts
To be unrul'd, implacable and seeke the bloud of hoasts,
Whom therefore men do much abhorre: then let him yeeld to me.
I am his greater, being a King and more in yeares than he.’
‘Brave King,’ said Nestor, ‘these rich gifts must needs make him relent.
Chuse then fit legates instantly to greete him at his Tent—
But stay, admit my choice of them, and let them strait be gone:
Jove-loved Phœnix shall be chiefe, then Ajax Telamon
And Prince Ulysses, and on them let these two heralds wait,
Grave Odius and Eurybates. Come, Lords, take water strait,
Make pure your hands, and with sweet words appease Achilles' mind,
Which we will pray the king of Gods may gently make inclin'd.’
All lik't his speech, and on their hands the Heralds water shed:
The youths crownd cups of sacred wine, to all distributed:
But, having sacrific'd and drunke to everie man's content
(With many notes by Nestor given), the Legats forwards went.
With courtship in fit gestures usd he did prepare them well,
But most Ulysses, for his grace did not so much excell.
Such rites beseeme Ambassadors, and Nestor urged these
That their most honours might reflect enrag'd Æacides.
They went along the shore and praid the God that earth doth bind
In brackish chaines they might not faile but bow his mightie mind.
The quarter of the Myrmidons they reacht, and found him set
Delighted with his solemne harpe, which curiously was fret,
With workes conceited, through the verge: the bawdricke that embrac't
His loftie necke was silver twist: this (when his hand laid waste
Eetion's citie) he did chuse as his especiall prise
And (loving sacred musicke well) made it his exercise.
To it he sung the glorious deeds of great Heroes dead,
And his true mind, that practise faild, sweet contemplation fed.
With him, alone and opposite, all silent sat his friend
Attentive and beholding him, who now his song did end.
Th' Ambassadors did forwards preasse, renown'd Ulysses led,
And stood in view. Their sodaine sight his admiration bred,
Who with his harpe and all arose: so did Menœtius' sonne
When he beheld them. Their receipt Achilles thus begun:
‘Health to my Lords: right welcome men assure your selves you be,
Though some necessitie I know doth make you visite me,
Incenst with just cause gainst the Greeks.’ This said, a severall seate
With purple cushions he set forth and did their ease intreate,
And said: ‘Now, friend, our greatest bolle with wine unmixt and neate
Appose these Lords, and of the depth let everie man make proofe.
These are my best-esteemed friends, and underneath my roofe.’
Patroclus did his deare friend's will: and he that did desire
To cheare the Lords (come faint from fight) set on a blasing fire
A great brasse pot and into it a chine of mutton put
And fat Goate's flesh. Automedon held while he peeces cut
To rost and boile right cunningly: then of a well-fed swine
A huge fat shoulder he cuts out and spits it wondrous fine.
His good friend made a goodly fire, of which the force once past,
He laid the spit low, neare the coales, to make it browne at last:
Then sprinkled it with sacred salt and tooke it from the rackes.
This rosted and on dresser set, his friend Patroclus takes
Bread in faire baskets, which set on, Achilles brought the meate
And to divinest Ithacus tooke his opposed seate
Upon the bench. Then did he will his friend to sacrifice,
Who cast sweet incense in the fire to all the Deities.
Thus fell they to their readie food. Hunger and thirst allaid,
Ajax to Phœnix made a signe as if too long they staid
Before they told their Legacie. Ulysses saw him winke
And (filling the great boule with wine) did to Achilles drinke:
‘Health to Achilles! But our plights stand not in need of meate
Who late supt at Atrides' tent, though for thy love we eate
Of many things whereof a part would make a compleat feast.
Nor can we joy in these kind rites that have our hearts opprest,
O Prince, with feare of utter spoile: tis made a question now
If we can save our fleet or not, unlesse thy selfe endow
Thy powers with wonted fortitude. Now Troy and her consorts,
Bold of thy want, have pitcht their tents close to our fleet and forts,
And made a firmament of fires; and now no more they say
Will they be prison'd in their wals, but force their violent way
Even to our ships: and Jove himselfe hath with his lightnings showd
Their bold adventures happie signes, and Hector growes so prowd
Of his huge strength, borne out by Jove, that fearfully he raves,
Presuming neither men nor Gods can interrupt his braves.
Wilde rage invades him, and he prayes that soone the sacred morne
Would light his furie, boasting then our streamers shall be torne
And all our navall ornaments fall by his conquering stroke:
Our ships shall burne and we our selves lie stifl'd in the smoke.
And I am seriously affraid, heaven will performe his threats
And that tis fatall to us all, farre from our native seates,
To perish in victorious Troy. But rise, though it be late,
Deliver the afflicted Greeks from Troy's tumultuous hate.
It will hereafter be thy griefe, when no strength can suffise
To remedie th' effected threats of our calamities.
Consider these affaires in time, while thou maist use thy powre,
And have the grace to turne from Greece fate's unrecovered houre.
O friend! thou knowest thy royall Sire forewarnd what should be done,
That day he sent thee from his Court to honour Atreus' sonne.
“My sonne,” said he, “the victory let Jove and Pallas use
At their high pleasures: but do thou no honor'd meanes refuse
That may advance her. In fit bounds containe thy mightie mind,
Nor let the knowledge of thy strength be factiously inclind,
Contriving mischiefes: be to fame and generall good profest:
The more will all sorts honour thee. Benignitie is best.”
Thus charg'd thy sire, which thou forgetst. Yet now those thoughts appease
That torture thy great spirit with wrath: which if thou wilt surcease,
The King will merit it with gifts, and (if thou wilt give eare)
I'le tell how much he offers thee—yet thou sitst angrie here.
Seven Tripods that no fire must touch; twise ten pans fit for flame;
Ten talents of fine gold; twelve horse that ever overcame
And brought huge prises from the field with swiftnes of their feete.
That man should beare no poore account, nor want gold's quickning sweete,
That had but what he won with them. Seven worthiest Lesbian Dames
Renown'd for skill in houswifrie and beare the soveraigne fames
For beautie from their generall sexe; which at thy overthrow
Of wel-built Lesbos he did chuse; and these he will bestow,
And with these her he tooke from thee, whom (by his state) since then
He sweares he toucht not, as faire Dames use to be toucht by men.
All these are readie for thee now: and, if at length we take,
By helpes of Gods, this wealthie towne, thy ships shall burthen make
Of gold and brasse at thy desires, when we the spoile divide;
And twentie beautious Troyan Dames thou shalt select beside
(Next Helen) the most beautifull. And (when return'd we be
To Argos) be his sonne in law: for he will honour thee
Like his Orestes, his sole sonne, maintaind in height of blisse.
Three daughters beautifie his Court, the faire Chrysothemis,
Laodice and Iphianesse: of all, the fairest take
To Peleus' thy grave father's Court and never joynture make.
He will the jointure make himselfe—so great as never Sire
Gave to his daughter's nuptials: seven cities left entire,
Cardamyle and Enope and Hira full of flowers,
Anthæa for sweet meadowes praisd, and Phera deckt with towers,
The bright Æpeia, Pedasus that doth God Bacchus please,
All on the sandie Pylos' soyle are seated neare the seas:
Th' inhabitants in droves and flocks exceeding wealthie be,
Who like a God with worthie gifts will gladly honour thee
And tribute of especiall rate to thy high scepter pay.
All this he freely will performe thy anger to allay.
But if thy hate to him be more than his gifts may represse,
Yet pittie all the other Greeks in such extreme distresse,
Who with religion honour thee, and to their desperate ill
Thou shalt triumphant glorie bring and Hector thou maist kill
When pride makes him encounter thee, fild with a banefull sprite,
Who vaunts our whole fleet brought not one equall to him in fight.’
Swift-foot Æacides replide: ‘Divine Laertes’ sonne,
Tis requisite I should be short and shew what place hath wonne
Thy serious speech, affirming nought but what you shall approve
Establisht in my settled heart, that in the rest I move
No murmure nor exception—for like hell mouth I loath
Who holds not in his words and thoughts one indistinguisht troth.
What fits the freenesse of my mind my speech shall make displaid:
Nor Atreus' sonne nor all the Greeks shall winne me to their aid.
Their suite is wretchedly enforc't, to free their owne despaires,
And my life never shall be hir'd with thanklesse desperate praires.
For never had I benefite, that ever foild the foe:
Even share hath he that keepes his tent and he to field doth go:
With equall honour cowards die and men most valiant,
The much performer and the man that can of nothing vant.
No overplus I ever found when, with my mind's most strife
To do them good, to dangerous fight I have exposd my life.
But even as to unfeatherd birds the carefull dam brings meate,
Which when she hath bestow'd, her selfe hath nothing left to eat:
So when my broken sleepes have drawne the nights t' extremest length
And ended many bloodie daies with still-employed strength,
To guard their weaknesse and preserve their wives' contents infract,
I have been robd before their eyes. Twelve cities I have sackt,
Assaild by sea, eleven by land, while this siege held at Troy,
And of all these, what was most deare and most might crowne the joy
Of Agamemnon, he enjoyd, who here behind remaind:
Which when he tooke, a few he gave and many things retaind;
Other to Optimates and Kings he gave, who hold them fast.
Yet mine he forceth: onely I sit with my losse disgrac't.
But so he gaine a lovely Dame to be his bed's delight,
It is enough. For what cause else do Greeks and Troyans fight?
Why brought he hither such an hoast? was it not for a Dame,
For faire-hair'd Helen? And doth love alone the hearts inflame
Of the Atrides to their wives, of all the men that move?
Every discreet and honest mind cares for his private love
As much as they—as I my selfe lov'd Brisis as my life,
Although my captive, and had will to take her for my wife:
Whom since he forc't, preventing me, in vaine he shall prolong
Hopes to appease me, that know well the deepnesse of my wrong.
But, good Ulysses, with thy selfe and all you other Kings,
Let him take stomacke to repell Troy's firie threatenings.
Much hath he done without my helpe—built him a goodly fort,
Cut a dike by it pitcht with pales, broad and of deepe import.
And cannot all these helpes represse this kil-man Hector's fright?
When I was arm'd amongst the Greekes, he would not offer fight
Without the shadow of his wals, but to the Scæan ports
Or to the holy Beech of Jove come backt with his consorts—
Where once he stood my charge alone and hardly made retreat:
And to make new proofe of our powers the doubt is not so great.
Tomorrow then with sacrifice, perform'd t' imperiall Jove
And all the Gods, I'le lanch my fleet and all my men remove,
Which (if thou wilt use so thy sight, or think'st it worth respect)
In forehead of the morne thine eyes shall see with sailes erect
Amidst the fishie Hellespont, helpt with laborious oares.
And if the sea-god send free saile, the fruitfull Phthian shores
Within three dayes we shall attaine—where I have store of prise,
Left when with prejudice I came to these indignities.
There have I gold as well as here and store of ruddie brasse,
Dames slender, elegantly girt, and steele as bright as glasse.
These will I take as I retire, as shares I firmly save,
Though Agamemnon be so base to take the gifts he gave.
Tell him all this, and openly, I on your honors charge,
That others may take shame to heare his lust's command so large.
And if there yet remaine a man he hopeth to deceive
(Being dide in endlesse impudence), that man may learne to leave
His trust and Empire. But, alas, though like a wolfe he be,
Shamelesse and rude, he durst not take my prise and looke on me.
I never will partake his works nor counsels as before:
He once deceiv'd and injur'd me, and he shall never more
Tie my affections with his words: enough is the increase
Of one successe in his deceits, which let him joy in peace
And beare it to a wretched end. Wise Jove hath reft his braine
To bring him plagues, and these his gifts I (as my foes) disdaine.
Even in the numnesse of calme death I will revengefull be,
Though ten or twentie times so much he would bestow on me—
All he hath here or any where, or Orchomen containes,
To which men bring their wealth for strength, or all the store remaines
In circuite of Ægyptian Thebes, where much hid treasure lies,
Whose wals containe an hundred ports of so admir'd a size
Two hundred souldiers may, afront, with horse and chariots passe.
Nor, would he amplifie all this like sand, or dust, or grasse,
Should he reclaime me till his wreake payd me for all the paines
That with his contumely burnd like poison in my veines.
Nor shall his daughter be my wife, although she might contend
With golden Venus for her forme, or if she did transcend
Blew-eyd Minerva for her works: let him a Greeke select
Fit for her, and a greater King. For, if the Gods protect
My safetie to my father's court, he shall chuse me a wife.
Many faire Achive Princesses, of unimpeached life,
In Helle and in Phthia live whose Sires do cities hold,
Of whom I can have whom I will. And more an hundred fold
My true mind in my countrie likes to take a lawfull wife
Than in another nation, and there delight my life
With those goods that my father got much rather than die here.
Not all the wealth of wel-built Troy possest when peace was there,
All that Apollo's marble Fane in stonie Pythos holds,
I value equall with the life that my free breast infolds.
Sheepe, Oxen, Tripods, crest-deckt horse, though lost, may come againe,
But, when the white guard of our teeth no longer can containe
Our humane soule, away it flies; and, once gone, never more
To her fraile mansion any man can her lost powres restore.
And therefore since my mother queene (fam'd for her silver feet)
Told me two fates about my death in my direction meet—
The one, that, if I here remaine t' assist our victorie,
My safe returne shall never live, my fame shall never die:
If my returne obtaine successe, much of my fame decayes
But death shall linger his approach and I live many dayes.
This being reveal'd, twere foolish pride t' abridge my life for praise.
Then with my selfe, I will advise others to hoise their saile,
For gainst the height of Ilion you never shall prevaile:
Jove with his hand protecteth it and makes the souldiers bold.
This tell the King in every part, for so grave Legates should,
That they may better counsels use to save their fleet and friends
By their owne valours, since this course, drown'd in my anger, ends.
Phœnix may in my tent repose and in the morne stere course
For Phthia, if he thinks it good; if not, I'le use no force.’
All wondred at his sterne reply, and Phœnix, full of feares
His words would be more weake than just, supplide their wants with teares:
‘If thy returne incline thee thus, Peleus' renowned joy,
And thou wilt let our ships be burnd with harmfull fire of Troy,
Since thou art angrie, O my sonne, how shall I after be
Alone in these extremes of death, relinquished by thee?
I, whom thy royall father sent as orderer of thy force
When to Atrides from his Court he left thee for this course,
Yet young, and when in skill of armes thou didst not so abound
Nor hadst the habite of discourse that makes men so renownd;
In all which I was set by him t' instruct thee as my sonne,
That thou mightst speake when speech was fit, and do when deeds were done,
Not sit as dumbe for want of words, idle for skill to move.
I would not then be left by thee, deare sonne, begot in love—
No, not if God would promise me to raze the prints of time
Carv'd in my bosome and my browes and grace me with the prime
Of manly youth as when at first I left sweet Helle's shore,
Deckt with faire Dames, and fled the grudge my angrie father bore;
Who was the faire Amyntor cald, surnam'd Ormenides,
And for a faire-haird harlot's sake, that his affects could please,
Contemnd my mother his true wife, who ceaslesse urged me
To use his harlot Clytia, and still would claspe my knee
To do her will—that so my Sire might turne his love to hate
Of that lewde Dame, converting it to comfort her estate.
At last I was content to prove, to do my mother good
And reconcile my father's love; who straight suspitious stood,
Pursuing me with many a curse, and to the Furies praide
No Dame might love, nor bring me seed. The Deities obayd
That governe hell, infernall Jove and sterne Persephone.
Then durst I in no longer date with my sterne father be:
Yet did my friends and neare allies enclose me with desires
Not to depart, kild sheepe, bores, beeves, rost them at solemne fires,
And from my father's tuns we drunke exceeding store of wine.
Nine nights they guarded me by turns: their fires did ceaslesse shine,
One in the porch of his strong hall, and in the portall one
Before my chamber: but, when day beneath the tenth night shone,
I brake my chamber's thick-fram'd dores and through the hal's guard past,
Unseene of any man or maide. Through Greece, then, rich and vast,
I fled to Phthia, nurse of sheepe, and came to Peleus' Court,
Who entertaind me heartily and in as gracious sort
As any Sire his onely sonne, borne when his strength is spent
And blest with great possessions to leave to his descent.
He made me rich, and to my charge did much command commend.
I dwelt in th' utmost region rich Phthia doth extend
And governd the Dolopians and made thee what thou art,
O thou that like the Gods art fram'd. Since, dearest to my heart,
I usde thee so, thou lov'dst none else, nor any where wouldst eate
Till I had crownd my knee with thee and karv'd thee tenderst meate
And given thee wine so much, for love, that in thy infancie
(Which still discretion must protect and a continuall eye)
My bosome lovingly sustain'd the wine thine could not beare.
Then, now my strength needs thine as much, be mine to thee as deare.
Much have I sufferd for thy love, much labour'd, wished much,
Thinking, since I must have no heire (the Gods' decrees are such),
I would adopt thy selfe my heire: to thee my heart did give
What any Sire could give his sonne: in thee I hop't to live.
O mitigate thy mightie spirits! it fits not one that moves
The hearts of all to live unmov'd, and succour hates for loves.
The Gods themselves are flexible, whose vertues, honors, powers
Are more than thine; yet they will bend their breasts as we bend ours.
Perfumes, benigne devotions, savors of offrings burnd
And holy rites the engines are with which their hearts are turnd
By men that pray to them, whose faith their sinnes have falsified.
For prayers are daughters of great Jove, lame, wrinkled, ruddie-eyd
And ever following Injury, who (strong and sound of feet)
Flies through the world afflicting men. Beleeving prayers yet
(To all that love that seed of Jove) the certaine blessing get
To have Jove heare, and helpe them too; but, if he shall refuse
And stand inflexible to them, they flie to Jove and use
Their powres against him, that the wrongs he doth to them may fall
On his owne head and pay those paines whose cure he failes to call.
Then, great Achilles, honour thou this sacred seed of Jove
And yeeld to them, since other men of greatest minds they move.
If Agamemnon would not give the selfe-same gifts he vowes
But offer other afterwards and in his stil-bent browes
Entombe his honour and his word, I would not thus exhort
(With wrath appeasde) thy aide to Greece, though plagu'd in heaviest sort.
But much he presently will give and after yeeld the rest,
T' assure which he hath sent to thee the men thou lovest best
And most renownd of all the hoast, that they might soften thee.
Then let not both their paines and prayers lost and despised be.
Before which, none could reprehend the tumult of thy heart,
But now to rest inexpiate were much too rude a part.
Of ancient worthies we have heard, when they were more displeasde,
(To their high fames) with gifts and prayers they have bene still appeasde.
For instance, I remember well a fact perform'd of old,
Which to you all my friends I'le tell. The Curets warres did hold
With the well-fought Ætolians, where mutuall lives had end
About the citie Calydon. Th' Ætolians did defend
Their flourishing countrie, which to spoile the Curets did contend.
Diana with the golden throne with OEneus much incenc't,
Since with his plenteous land's first fruits she was not reverenc't,
Yet other Gods with Hecatombes had feasts, and she alone
(Great Jove's bright daughter) left unserv'd (or by oblivion
Or undue knowledge of her dues) much hurt in heart she swore.
And she, enrag'd, excited much, she sent a sylvan Bore
From their greene groves, with wounding tuskes, who usually did spoile
King OEneus' fields, his loftie woods layd prostrate on the soile,
Rent by the roots trees fresh, adornd with fragrant apple flow'rs;
Which Meleager, OEneus' sonne, slue with assembled pow'rs
Of hunters and of fiercest hounds from many cities brought.
For such he was that with few lives his death could not be bought;
Heapes of dead humanes by his rage the funerall piles applide,
Yet (slaine at last) the Goddesse stird about his head and hide
A wondrous tumult, and a warre betwixt the Curets wrought
And brave Ætolians. All the while fierce Meleager fought,
Ill far'd the Curets: neare the wals none durst advance his crest
Though they were many; but, when wrath inflam'd his hautie brest
(Which oft the firme mind of the wise with passion doth infest),
Since twixt his mother Queene and him arose a deadly strife,
He left the Court and privately liv'd with his lawfull wife,
Faire Cleopatra, femall birth of bright Marpessa's paine
And of Ideus, who of all terrestriall men did raigne
(At that time) king of fortitude, and for Marpessa's sake
Gainst wanton Phœbus, king of flames, his bow in hand did take,
Since he had ravisht her, his joy, whom her friends after gave
The surname of Alcyone, because they could not save
Their daughter from Alcyone's Fate. In Cleopatra's armes
Lay Meleager, feeding on his anger for the harmes
His mother praid might fall on him, who for her brother slaine
By Meleager griev'd and praid the Gods to wreake her paine
With all the horror could be pour'd upon her furious birth.
Still knockt she with her impious hands the many-feeding earth,
To urge sterne Pluto and his Queene t' incline their vengefull eares,
Fell on her knees and all her breast dewd with her fierie teares
To make them massacre her sonne, whose wrath enrag'd her thus.
Erinnys (wandring through the aire) heard, out of Erebus,
Pray'rs fit for her unpleased mind: yet Meleager lay
Obscurd in furie. Then the bruit of the tumultuous fray
Rung through the turrets as they scal'd: then came the Ætolian Peeres
To Meleager with low suits, to rise and free their feares:
Then sent they the chiefe Priests of Gods with offered gifts t' attone
His differing furie, bad him chuse in sweet-soild Calydon
Of the most fat and yeeldie soile what with an hundred steares
Might in a hundred dayes be plowde—halfe that rich vintage beares
And halfe of naked earth to plow. Yet yeelded not his ire.
Then to his loftie chamber dore ascends his royall Sire
With ruthfull plaints, shooke the strong barres: then came his sisters' cries:
His mother then, and all, intreate. Yet still more stiffe he lies.
His friends most reverend, most esteem'd—yet none impression tooke,
Till the high turrets where he lay and his strong chamber shooke
With the invading enemie, who now forc't dreadfull way
Along the cittie. Then his wife (in pittifull dismay)
Besought him, weeping, telling him the miseries sustaind
By all the citizens, whose towne the enemie had gaind,
Men slaughterd, children bondslaves made, sweet Ladies forc't with lust,
Fires climing towres and turning them to heapes of fruitlesse dust.
These dangers softned his steele heart: up the stout Prince arose,
Indude his bodie with rich armes and freed th' Ætolians' woes—
His smotherd anger giving aire, which gifts did not asswage
But his owne perill. And because he did not disingage
Their lives for gifts, their gifts he lost. But for my sake, deare friend,
Be not thou bent to see our plights to these extremes descend
Ere thou assist us: be not so by thy ill angell turnd
From thine owne honor: it were shame to see our navie burnd
And then come with thy timelesse aide. For offerd presents come
And all the Greeks will honour thee, as of celestiall roome:
But if without these gifts thou fight, forc't by thy private woe,
Thou wilt be nothing so renown'd, though thou repell the foe.’
Achilles answerd the last part of this oration thus:
‘Phœnix, renown'd and reverend, the honors urgde on us
We need not: Jove doth honor me and to my safetie sees,
And will whiles I retaine a spirit or can command my knees.
Then do not thou, with teares and woes, impassion my affects,
Becoming gracious to my foe. Nor fits it the respects
Of thy vowd love to honor him that hath dishonord me,
Lest such loose kindnesse lose his heart that yet is firme to thee.
It were thy praise to hurt, with me, the hurter of my state,
Since halfe my honor and my Realme thou maist participate.
Let these Lords then returne th' event, and do thou here repose,
And when darke sleepe breakes with the day our counsels shall disclose
The course of our returne or stay.’ This said, he with his eye
Made to his friend a covert signe to hasten instantly
A good soft bed, that the old Prince, soone as the Peeres were gone,
Might take his rest: when, souldier-like, brave Ajax Telamon
Spake to Ulysses, as with thought Achilles was not worth
The high direction of his speech, that stood so sternly forth,
Unmov'd with th' other Orators; and spake, not to appease
Pelides' wrath, but to depart. His arguments were these:
‘High-issued Laertiades! let us insist no more
On his perswasion. I perceive the world would end before
Our speeches end in this affaire. We must with utmost haste
Returne his answer, though but bad: the Peeres are else-where plac't
And will not rise till we returne. Great Thetis' sonne hath stor'd
Prowd wrath within him as his wealth, and will not be implor'd,
Rude that he is; nor his friends' love respects, do what they can,
Wherein past all we honourd him. O unremorsefull man!
Another for his brother slaine, another for his sonne,
Accepts of satisfaction; and he the deed hath done
Lives in belov'd societie long after his amends,
To which his foe's high heart, for gifts, with patience condescends.
But thee a wild and cruell spirit the Gods for plague have given,
And for one girle—of whose faire sexe we come to offer seaven
The most exempt for excellence and many a better prise.
Then put a sweet mind in thy breast, respect thy own allies,
Though others make thee not remisse. A multitude we are,
Sprung of thy royall familie, and our supremest care
Is to be most familiar and hold most love with thee
Of all the Greeks, how great an host soever here there be.’
He answerd: ‘Noble Telamon, Prince of our souldiers here,
Out of thy heart I know thou speakst, and as thou holdst me deare:
But still, as often as I thinke how rudely I was usd
And like a stranger for all rites fit for our good refusd,
My heart doth swell against the man that durst be so profane
To violate his sacred place—not for my private bane,
But since wrackt vertue's generall lawes he shamelesse did infringe,
For whose sake I will loose the reines and give mine anger swinge
Without my wisedome's least impeach. He is a foole, and base,
That pitties vice-plagu'd minds, when paine, not love of right, gives place.
And therefore tell your king, my Lords, my just wrath will not care
For all his cares before my tents and navie charged are
By warlike Hector, making way through flockes of Grecian lives,
Enlightned by their navall fire: but when his rage arrives
About my tent and sable barke I doubt not but to shield
Them and my selfe, and make him flie the there-strong-bounded field.’
This said, each one but kist the cup and to the ships retir'd,
Ulysses first. Patroclus then the men and maids requir'd
To make grave Phœnix' bed with speed and see he nothing lacks.
They straite obeyd, and thereon laid the subtile fruite of flax
And warme sheep-fels for covering: and there the old man slept,
Attending till the golden Morne her usuall station kept.
Achilles lay in th' inner roome of his tent richly wrought,
And that faire Ladie by his side that he from Lesbos brought,
Bright Diomeda, Phorbas' seed. Patroclus did embrace
The beautious Iphis, given to him when his bold friend did race
The loftie Scyrus, that was kept in Enyeius' hold.
Now at the tent of Atreus' sonne, each man with cups of gold
Receiv'd th' Ambassadors returnd: all clusterd neare to know
What newes they brought, which first the king would have Ulysses show:
‘Say, most praise-worthie Ithacus, the Grecians' great renowne,
Will he defend us? or not yet will his prowd stomacke downe?’
Ulysses made replie: ‘Not yet will he appeased be,
But growes more wrathfull, prizing light thy offerd gifts and thee,
And wils thee to consult with us and take some other course
To save our armie and our fleete, and sayes, with all his force,
The morne shall light him on his way to Phthia's wished soile,
For never shall high-seated Troy be sackt with all our toile,
Jove holds his hand twixt us and it, the souldiers gather heart.
Thus he replies, which Ajax here can equally impart
And both these Heralds. Phœnix stayes, for so was his desire
To go with him, if he thought good; if not, he might retire.’
All wondred he should be so sterne: at last bold Diomed spake:
‘Would God, Atrides, thy request were yet to undertake,
And all thy gifts unofferd him! He's proud enough beside,
But this ambassage thou hast sent will make him burst with pride.
But let us suffer him to stay or go at his desire,
Fight when his stomacke serves him best, or when Jove shall inspire.
Meane while, our watch being strongly held, let us a little rest
After our food: strength lives by both, and vertue is their guest.
Then, when the rosie-fingerd Morne holds out her silver light,
Bring forth thy host, encourage all, and be thou first in fight.’
The kings admir'd the fortitude that so divinely mov'd
The skilfull horseman Diomed, and his advice approv'd.
Then, with their nightly sacrifice, each tooke his severall tent,
Where all receiv'd the soveraigne gifts soft Somnus did present.
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