Book 11
Aurora out of restfull bed did from bright Tithon rise,
To bring each deathlesse essence light, and use to mortall eyes;
When Jove sent Eris to the Greekes, sustaining in her hand
Sterne signes of her designes for warre. She tooke her horrid stand
Upon Ulysses' huge blacke Barke, that did at anchor ride
Amidst the fleet; from whence her sounds might ring on every side,
Both to the tents of Telamon and th' authors of their smarts,
Who held, for fortitude and force, the navie's utmost parts.
The red-eyd Goddesse, seated there, thunderd th' Orthian song,
High and with horror, through the eares of all the Grecian throng.
Her verse with spirits invincible did all their breasts inspire,
Blew out all starknesse from their lims and set their hearts on fire.
And presently was bitter warre more sweet a thousand times
Than any choice in hollow keeles to greet their native climes.
Atrides summon'd all to armes, to armes himselfe disposde.
First on his legs he put bright Greaves, with silver buttons closde,
Then with rich Curace arm'd his breast, which Cinyras bestow'd
To gratifie his royall guest; for even to Cyprus flow'd
Th' unbounded fame of those designes the Greeks proposde for Troy,
And therefore gave he him those armes and wisht his purpose joy.
Ten rowes of azure mixt with blacke, twelve golden like the Sunne,
Twise ten of tin, in beaten paths did through this armour runne.
Three serpents to the gorget crept, that like three rain-bowes shin'd,
Such as by Jove are fixt in clouds when wonders are divin'd.
About his shoulders hung his sword, whereof the hollow hilt
Was fashion'd all with shining barres exceeding richly gilt.
The scaberd was of silver plate with golden hangers grac't.
Then tooke he up his weightie shield, that round about him cast
Defensive shadowes. Ten bright zones of gold-affecting brasse
Were driven about it, and of tin (as full of glosse as glasse)
Sweld twentie bosses out of it: in center of them all
One of blacke mettall had engraven (full of extreme appall)
An ugly Gorgon, compassed with Terror and with Feare.
At it, a silver Bawdricke hung, with which he usde to beare
(Wound on his arme) his ample shield; and in it there was woven
An azure Dragon curl'd in folds, from whose one necke was cloven
Three heads contorted in an orbe. Then plac't he on his head
His foure-plum'd caske, and in his hands two darts he managed,
Arm'd with bright steele that blaz'd to heaven. Then Juno and the maide
That conquers Empires trumpets serv'd to summon out their aide
In honor of the Generall, and on a sable cloud
(To bring them furious to the field) sate thundring out aloud.
Then all enjoyn'd their charioteers to ranke their chariot horse
Close to the dike; forth march: the foot, whose front they did r'enforce
With some horse troupes. The battell then was all of Charioteers,
Lin'd with light horse. But Jupiter disturb'd this forme with feares,
And from aire's upper region did bloudie vapors raine
For sad ostent much noble life should ere their times be slaine.
The Troyan hoast, at Ilus' tombe, was in Battalia led
By Hector and Polydamas and old Anchises' seed,
Who God-like was esteem'd in Troy, by grave Antenor's race
Divine Agenor, Polybus, unmaried Acamas,
Proportion'd like the states of heaven. In front of all the field
Troy's great Priamides did beare his al-wayes-equall shield,
Still plying th' ordering of his power. And as amids the skie
We sometimes see an ominous starre blaze cleare and dreadfully,
Then run his golden head in clouds and straight appeare againe
So Hector otherwhiles did grace the vaunt-guard, shining plaine,
Then in the rere-guard hid himselfe and labour'd every where
To order and encourage all: his armor was so cleare
And he applide each place so fast that, like a lightning throwne
Out of the shield of Jupiter, in every eye he shone.
And as upon a rich man's crop of barley or of wheate
(Opposde for swiftnesse at their worke) a sort of reapers sweate,
Beare downe the furrowes speedily, and thicke their handfuls fall:
So at the joyning of the hoasts ran Slaughter through them all.
None stoopt to any fainting thought of foule inglorious flight
But equall bore they up their heads and far'd like wolves in fight
Sterne Eris, with such weeping sights, rejoyc't to feed her eies,
Who onely shew'd her selfe in field of all the Deities.
The other in Olympus' tops sate silent and repin'd
That Jove to do the Troyans grace should beare so fixt a mind.
He car'd not but (enthron'd apart) triumphant sat in sway
Of his free power, and from his seate tooke pleasure to display
The citie so adorn'd with towres, the sea with vessels fild,
The splendor of refulgent armes, the killer and the kild.
As long as bright Aurora rul'd and sacred day increast,
So long their darts made mutuall wounds and neither had the best:
But when in hill-environ'd vales the timber-feller takes
A sharpe-set stomacke to his meate and dinner ready makes,
His sinewes fainting and his spirits become surcharg'd and dull,
Time of accustom'd ease arriv'd, his hands with labour full,
Then by their valours Greeks brake through the Troyan rankes and chear'd
Their generall Squadrons through the hoast. Then first of all appear'd
The person of the King himselfe, and then the Troyans lost
Bianor by his royall charge, a leader in the host,
Who being slaine, his chariotere, Oileus, did alight
And stood in skirmish with the king. The king did deadly smite
His forehead with his eager lance and through his helme it ranne,
Enforcing passage to his braine, quite through the hardned pan;
His braine mixt with his clotterd bloud, his body strewd the ground.
There left he them, and presently he other objects found,
Isus and Antiphus, two sonnes king Priam did beget,
One lawfull, th' other wantonly. Both in one chariot met
Their royall foe: the baser borne, Isus, was chariotere
And famous Antiphus did fight; both which king Peleus' heire
(Whilome in Ida keeping flocks) did deprehend and bind
With pliant Osiers and for prize them to their Sire resign'd.
Atrides with his well-aim'd lance smote Isus on the brest
Above the nipple, and his sword a mortall wound imprest
Beneath the eare of Antiphus: downe from their horse they fell.
The king had seene the youths before and now did know them well,
Remembring them the prisoners of swift Æacides,
Who brought them to the sable fleet from Ida's foodie leas.
And as a Lion having found the furrow of a Hind
Where she hath calv'd two little twins, at will and ease doth grind
Their joynts snatcht in his sollide jawes and crusheth into mist
Their tender lives, their dam (though neare) not able to resist
But shooke with vehement feare her selfe, flies through the Oaken chace
From that fell savage, drown'd in sweat, and seekes some covert place:
So, when with most unmatched strength the Grecian Generall bent
Gainst these two Princes, none durst ayd their native king's descent
But fled themselves before the Greeks. And where these two were slaine,
Pisander and Hippolochus (not able to restraine
Their head-strong horse, the silken reines being from their hands let fall)
Were brought by their unruly guides before the Generall.
Antimachus begat them both, Antimachus that tooke
Rich guifts and gold of Helen's love and would by no meanes brooke
Just restitution should be made of Menelaus' wealth,
Bereft him, with his ravisht Queene, by Alexander's stealth.
Atrides Lion-like did charge his sonnes, who on their knees
Fell from their chariot and besought regard to their degrees,
Who, being Antimachus his sonnes, their father would affoord
A worthie ransome for their lives, who in his house did hoord
Much hidden treasure, brasse and gold and steele wrought wondrous choise.
Thus wept they, using smoothing terms, and heard this rugged voice
Breath'd from the unrelenting king: ‘If you be of the breed
Of stout Antimachus that staid the honorable deed
The other Peeres of Ilion in counsell had decreed
To render Helen and her wealth, and would have basely slaine
My brother and wise Ithacus, Ambassadors t' attaine
The most due motion, now receive wreake for his shamefull part.’
This said, in poore Pisander's breast he fixt his wreakfull dart,
Who upward spread th' oppressed earth. His brother croucht for dread,
And, as he lay, the angrie king cut off his armes and head
And let him like a football lie for everie man to spurne.
Then to th' extremest heate of fight he did his valour turne
And led a multitude of Greeks where foote did foote subdue,
Horse slaughterd horse, Need featherd flight, the batterd center flew
In clouds of dust about their eares, raisd from the horses' hooves,
That beat a thunder out of earth as horrible as Jove's.
The king (perswading speedie chace) gave his perswasions way
With his owne valour, slaughtring still. As in a stormie day
In thicke-set woods a ravenous fire wraps in his fierce repaire
The shaken trees, and by the rootes doth tosse them into aire:
Even so beneath Atrides' sword flew up Troy's flying heeles,
Their horse drew emptie chariots and sought their thundring wheeles
Some fresh directors through the field, where least the pursuite drives.
Thicke fell the Troyans, much more sweet to Vultures than their wives.
Then Jove drew Hector from the darts, from dust, from death and blood
And from the tumult. Still the king firme to the pursuite stood
Till at old Ilus' monument, in midst of all the field,
They reacht the wild Figtree and long'd to make their towne their shield.
Yet there they rested not: the king still cride: ‘Pursue, pursue,’
And all his unreproved hands did blood and dust embrue.
But when they came to Scæa's ports and to the Beech of Jove,
There made they stand; there everie eye, fixt on each other, strove
Who should outlooke his mate amaz'd: through all the field they fled.
And as a Lion, when the night becomes most deafe and dead,
Invades Oxe heards, affrighting all, that he of one may wreake
His dreadfull hunger, and his necke he first of all doth breake,
Then laps his blood and entrailes up: so Agamemnon plide
The manage of the Troyan chace, and still the last man di'd,
The other fled, a number fell by his imperiall hand,
Some groveling downwards from their horse, some upwards strew'd the sand.
High was the furie of his lance; but, having beat them close
Beneath their walls, the both-world's Sire did now againe repose
On fountaine-flowing Ida's tops, being newly slid from heaven,
And held a lightning in his hand. From thence this charge was given
To Iris with the golden wings: ‘Thaumantia, flie,’ said he,
‘And tell Troy's Hector that as long as he enrag'd shall see
The souldier-loving Atreus' sonne amongst the formost fight,
Depopulating troopes of men, so long he must excite
Some other to resist the foe and he no armes advance:
But, when he wounded takes his horse, attain'd with shaft or lance,
Then will I fill his arme with death even till he reach the Fleet
And peacefull night treads busie day beneath her sacred feet.’
The wind-foot-swift Thaumantia obeyd and usd her wings
To famous Ilion from the mount enchaste with silver springs,
And found in his bright chariot the hardie Troyan knight,
To whom she spake the words of Jove, and vanisht from his sight.
He leapt upon the sounding earth and shooke his lengthfull dart
And everie where he breath'd exhorts and stird up everie heart.
A dreadfull fight he set on foote: his souldiers straight turnd head.
The Greekes stood firme: in both the hoasts the field was perfected.
But Agamemnon formost still did all his side exceed
And would not be the first in name unlesse the first in deed.
Now sing, faire Presidents of verse that in the heavens embowre,
Who first encountred with the king of all the adverse powre.
Iphidamas, Antenor's sonne, ample and bigly set,
Brought up in pasture-springing Thrace that doth soft sheepe beget,
In grave Cisseus' noble house, that was his mother's Sire
(Faire Theano); and, when his breast was heightned with the fire
Of gaisome youth, his grandsire gave his daughter to his love,
Who straight his bridall chamber left. Fame with affection strove
And made him furnish twelve faire ships to lend faire Troy his hand.
His ships he in Percote left and came to Troy by land,
And now he tried the fame of Greece, encountring with the king,
Who threw his royall lance, and mist. Iphidamas did fling
And strooke him on the arming waste beneath his coate of brasse,
Which forc't him stay upon his arme, so violent it was;
Yet pierc't it not his wel-wrought zone, but when the lazie head
Tried hardnesse with his silver waste it turnd againe like lead.
He follow'd, grasping the ground end, but, with a Lion's wile
That wrests away a hunter's staffe, he caught it by the pile
And pluckt it from the caster's hand, whom with his sword he strooke
Beneath the eare, and with his wound his timelesse death he tooke.
He fell and slept an iron sleepe: wretched young man, he dide
Farre from his newly-married wife, in aide of forreine pride,
And saw no pleasure of his love: yet was her joynture great—
An hundred Oxen gave he her, and vow'd in his retreate
Two thousand head of sheepe and Goates, of which he store did leave;
Much gave he of his love's first fruits and nothing did receive.
When Coon (one that for his forme might feast an amorous eye,
And elder brother of the slaine) beheld this tragedie,
Deepe sorrow sate upon his eyes, and (standing laterally
And to the Generall undiscernd) his Javelin he let flie,
That twixt his elbow and his wrist transfixt his armelesse arme:
The bright head shin'd on th' other side. The unexpected harme
Imprest some horror in the king; yet so he ceast not fight,
But rusht on Coon with his lance, who made what haste he might
(Seising his slaughterd brother's foote) to draw him from the field
And cald the ablest to his aide, when under his round shield
The king's brasse Javelin, as he drew, did strike him helplesse dead,
Who made Iphidamas the blocke and cut off Coon's head.
Thus under great Atrides' arme Antenor's issue thriv'd
And to suffise precisest fate to Pluto's mansion div'd.
He with his lance, sword, mightie stones, pour'd his Heroicke wreake
On other Squadrons of the foe, whiles yet warme blood did breake
Through his cleft veines: but, when the wound was quite exhaust and crude,
The eager anguish did approve his Princely fortitude.
As, when most sharpe and bitter pangs distract a labouring Dame,
Which the divine Ilithyæ that rule the painefull frame
Of humane child-birth poure on her—th' Ilithyæ that are
The daughters of Saturnia, with whose extreme repaire
The woman in her travell strives, to take the worst it gives,
With thought it must be, tis love's fruite, the end for which she lives,
The meane to make her selfe new-borne, what comforts will redound:
So Agamemnon did sustaine the torment of his wound.
Then tooke he chariot, and to Fleet bad haste his chariotere,
But first pour'd out his highest voice to purchase everie eare:
‘Princes and Leaders of the Greekes, brave friends, now from our fleet
Do you expell this boistrous sway. Jove will not let me meet
Illustrate Hector, nor give leave that I shall end the day
In fight against the Ilian power: my wound is in my way.’
This said, his readie chariotere did scourge his spritefull horse,
That freely to the sable fleet performd their fierie course,
To beare their wounded Soveraigne apart the Martiall thrust,
Sprinkling their powerfull breasts with foame and snowing on the dust.
When Hector heard of his retreate, thus he for fame contends:
‘Troyans, Dardanians, Lycians, all my close-fighting friends,
Thinke what it is to be renownd: be souldiers all of name.
Our strongest enemie is gone: Jove vowes to do us fame.
Then in the Grecian faces drive your one-hov'd violent steeds
And farre above their best be best, and glorifie your deeds.’
Thus as a dog-given Hunter sets upon a brace of Bores
His white-toothd hounds, pufs, showts, breaths terms and on his emprese pores
All his wild art to make them pinch: so Hector urg'd his host
To charge the Greeks, and he himselfe most bold and active most.
He brake into the heate of fight, as when a tempest raves,
Stoops from the clouds and all on heapes doth cuffe the purple waves.
Who then was first and last he kild when Jove did grace his deed?
Asæus and Autonous, Opys and Clytus' seed,
Prince Dolops, and the honord Sire of sweet Euryalus,
Opheltes, Agelaus next and strong Hipponous,
Orus, Æsymnus, all of name. The common souldiers fell
As when the hollow flood of aire in Zephyr's cheeks doth swell
And sparseth all the gatherd clouds white Notus' power did draw,
Wraps waves in waves, hurls up the froath beat with a vehement flaw:
So were the common souldiers wrackt in troops by Hector's hand.
Then ruine had enforc't such works as no Greeks could withstand:
Then in their fleete they had bene housd—had not Laertes' sonne
Stird up the spirit of Diomed with this impression:
‘Tydides, what do we sustaine, forgetting what we are?
Stand by me, dearest in my love: twere horrible impaire
For our two valours to endure a customarie flight,
To leave our navie still ingag'd and but by fits to fight.’
He answerd: ‘I am bent to stay and any thing sustaine:
But our delight to prove us men will prove but short and vaine,
For Jove makes Troyans instruments, and virtually then
Wields arms himselfe: our crosse affaires are not twixt men and men.’
This said, Thymbræus with his lance he tumbled from his horse,
Neare his left nipple wounding him. Ulysses did enforce
Faire Molion, minion to this king that Diomed subdude.
Both sent they thence till they returnd, who now the king pursude
And furrowed through the thickned troopes. As when two chaced Bores
Turne head gainst kennels of bold hounds and race way through their gores,
So (turnd from flight) the forward kings shew'd Troyans backward death,
Nor fled the Greeks but by their wils, to get great Hector breath.
Then tooke they horse and chariot from two bold citie foes,
Merops Percosius' mightie sonnes: their father could disclose,
Beyond all men, hid Auguries and would not give consent
To their egression to these wars, yet wilfully they went,
For Fates that order sable death enforc't their tragedies.
Tydides slue them with his lance and made their armes his prise.
Hypirochus and Hippodam, Ulysses reft of light,
But Jove, that out of Ida lookt, then equallisde the fight:
A Grecian for a Troyan then paide tribute to the Fates,
Yet royall Diomed slue one, even in those even debates,
That was of name more than the rest—Pæon's renowned sonne,
The Prince Agastrophus: his lance into his hip did run;
His Squire detaind his horse apart, that hindred him to flie,
Which he repented at his heart; yet did his feet applie
His scape with all the speed they had alongst the formost bands,
And there his loved life dissolv'd. This Hector understands,
And rusht with clamor on the king, right soundly seconded
With troupes of Troyans; which perceiv'd by famous Diomed,
The deepe conceit of Jove's high will stifned his royall haire,
Who spake to neare-fought Ithacus: ‘The fate of this affaire
Is bent to us: come, let us stand and bound his violence.’
Thus threw he his long Javelin forth, which smote his head's defence
Full on the top, yet pierc't no skin: brasse tooke repulse with brasse.
His helme (with three folds made, and sharpe) the gift of Phœbus was.
The blow made Hector take the troupe, sunke him upon his hand
And strooke him blind: the king pursude, before the formost band,
His dart's recoverie, which he found laid on the purple plaine:
By which time Hector was reviv'd and, taking horse againe,
Was farre commixt within his strength and fled his darksome grave.
He followd with his thirstie lance and this elusive Brave:
‘Once more be thankfull to thy heeles, proud dog, for thy escape.
Mischiefe sate neare thy bosome now; and now another rape
Hath thy Apollo made of thee, to whom thou well maist pray
When through the singing of our darts thou findst such guarded way.
But I shall meet with thee at length and bring thy latest houre,
If with like favour any God be fautor of my powre.
Meane while, some other shall repay what I suspend in thee.’
This said, he set the wretched soule of Pæon's issue free,
Whom his late wound not fully slue. But Priam's amorous birth
Against Tydides bent his bow, hid with a hill of earth,
Part of the ruinated tombe for honor'd Ilus built,
And, as the Curace of the slaine (engraven and richly gilt)
Tydides from his breast had spoild and from his shoulders raft
His target and his solide helme, he shot; and his keene shaft
(That never flew from him in vaine) did naile unto the ground
The king's right foot. The spleenfull knight laught sweetly at the wound,
Crept from his covert and triumpht: ‘Now art thou maimd,’ said he,
‘And would to God my happie hand had so much honor'd me
To have infixt it in thy breast as deepe as in thy foote,
Even to th' expulsure of thy soule: then blest had bene my shoote
Of all the Troyans, who had then breath'd from their long unrests,
Who feare thee as the braying Goates abhorre the king of beasts.’
Undanted Diomed replide: ‘You Braver with your bow,
You slick-hair'd lover, you that hunt and fleere at wenches so,
Durst thou but stand in armes with me, thy silly archerie
Would give thee little cause to vaunt. As little suffer I
In this same tall exploit of thine, perform'd when thou wert hid,
As if a woman or a child, that knew not what it did,
Had toucht my foote. A coward's steele hath never any edge,
But mine (t' assure it sharpe) still layes dead carkasses in pledge.
Touch it: it renders livelesse straight: it strikes the fingers' ends
Of haplesse widowes in their cheeks, and children blind of friends:
The subject of it makes earth red and aire with sighes inflames,
And leaves lims more embrac't with birds than with enamour'd Dames.’
Lance-fam'd Ulysses now came in and stept before the king,
Kneeld opposite, and drew the shaft. The eager paine did sting
Through all his bodie: straight he tooke his royall chariot there
And with direction to the fleete did charge his chariotere.
Now was Ulysses desolate: feare made no friend remaine.
He thus spake to his mightie mind: ‘What doth my state sustaine?
If I should flie this ods in feare, that thus comes clustring on,
Twere high dishonour: yet twere worse to be surprisd alone.
Tis Jove that drives the rest to flight; but that's a faint excuse.
Why do I tempt my mind so much? Pale cowards fight refuse:
He that affects renowne in warre must like a rocke be fixt,
Wound or be wounded: valour's truth puts no respect betwixt.’
In this contention with himselfe, in flew the shadie bands
Of targateres, who sieg'd him round with mischiefe-filled hands.
As when a crew of gallants watch the wild muse of a Bore,
Their dogs put after in full crie, he rusheth on before,
Whets, with his lather-making jawes, his crooked tuskes for blood
And (holding firme his usuall haunts) breakes through the deepned wood,
They charging, though his hote approch be never so abhord:
So to assaile the Jove-lov'd Greeke, the Ilians did accord
And he made through them: first he hurt, upon his shoulder blade
Deiops, a blamelesse man at armes, then sent to endlesse shade
Thoon and Ennomus, and strooke the strong Chersidamas,
As from his chariot he leapt downe, beneath his targe of brasse,
Who fell and crawld upon the earth with his sustaining palmes
And left the fight. Nor yet his lance left dealing Martiall almes,
But Socus' brother by both sides, yong Charops, did impresse.
Then Princely Socus to his aide made brotherly accesse
And (coming neare) spake in his charge: ‘O great Laertes’ sonne,
Insatiate in slie stratagems and labours never done,
This houre or thou shalt boast to kill the two Hippasides
And prize their armes, or fall thy selfe in my resolv'd accesse.’
This said, he threw quite through his shield his fell and well-driven lance,
Which held way through his curaces and on his ribs did glance,
Plowing the flesh alongst his sides: but Pallas did repell
All inward passage to his life. Ulysses, knowing well
The wound undeadly, (setting backe his foote to forme his stand)
Thus spake to Socus: ‘O thou wretch, thy death is in this hand,
That stay'st my victorie on Troy, and where thy charge was made
In doubtfull terms (or this or that) this shall thy life invade.’
This frighted Socus to retreate, and in his faint reverse
The lance betwixt his shoulders fell and through his breast did perse.
Downe fell he sounding, and the king thus playd with his misease:
‘O Socus, you that make by birth the two Hippasides,
Now may your house and you perceive death can outflie the flier.
Ah wretch, thou canst not scape my vowes. Old Hippasus thy sire
Nor thy well-honord mother's hands, in both which lies thy worth,
Shall close thy wretched eyes in death, but Vultures dig them forth
And hide them with their darksome wings. But when Ulysses dies,
Divinest Greeks shall tombe my corse with all their obsequies.’
Now from his bodie and his shield the violent lance he drew
That Princely Socus had infixt; which drawne, a crimson dew
Fell from his bosome on the earth: the wound did dare him sore
And when the furious Troyans saw Ulysses' forced gore,
(Encouraging themselves in grosse) all his destruction vowd.
Then he retir'd and summond aide: thrise showted he allowd
(As did denote a man ingag'd): thrise Menelaus' eare
Observ'd his aid-suggesting voice and, Ajax being neare,
He told him of Ulysses' showts, as if he were enclosd
From all assistance, and advisd their aids might be disposd
Against the Ring that circled him—lest, charg'd with troopes alone,
(Though valiant) he might be opprest whom Greece so built upon.
He led, and Ajax seconded: they found their Jove-lov'd king
Circled with foes. As when a den of bloodie Lucerns cling
About a goodly palmed Hart hurt with a hunter's bow,
Whose scape his nimble feet inforce, whilst his warme blood doth flow
And his light knees have power to move, but (maistred of his wound,
Embost within a shadie hill) the Lucerns charge him round
And teare his flesh, when instantly fortune sends in the powres
Of some sterne Lion, with whose sight they flie and he devours:
So charg'd the Ilians Ithacus, many and mightie men.
But then made Menelaus in, and horrid Ajax then,
Bearing a target like a tower. Close was his violent stand,
And everie way the foe disperst, when, by the royall hand,
Kind Menelaus led away the hurt Laertes' sonne
Till his faire squire had brought his horse. Victorious Telamon
Still plied the foe and put to sword a young Priamides
Doryclus, Priam's bastard sonne. Then did his lance impresse
Pandocus and strong Pyrasus, Lysander and Pylartes.
As when a torrent from the hils, swolne with Saturnian showres,
Fals on the fields, beares blasted Oakes and witherd rosine flowres,
Loose weeds and all dispersed filth into the Ocean's force:
So matchlesse Ajax beat the field and slaughterd men and horse,
Yet had not Hector heard of this, who fought on the left wing
Of all the host, neare those sweet herbs Scamander's flood doth spring,
Where many foreheads trode the ground and where the skirmish burnd
Neare Nestor and king Idomen; where Hector overturnd
The Grecian squadrons, authoring high service with his lance
And skilfull manadge of his horse. Nor yet the discrepance
He made in death betwixt the hosts had made the Greeks retire
If faire-haird Helen's second spouse had not represt the fire
Of bold Machaon's fortitude, who with a three-forkt head
In his right shoulder wounded him: then had the Grecians dread
Lest, in his strength declin'd, the foe should slaughter their hurt friend.
Then Crete's king urg'd Neleides his chariot to ascend,
And, getting neare him, take him in and beare him to their tents:—
‘A Surgeon is to be preferd, with physicke ornaments,
Before a multitude: his life gives hurt lives native bounds
With sweet inspersion of fit balmes and perfect search of wounds.’
Thus spake the royall Idomen. Neleides obeyd
And to his chariot presently the wounded Greeke convaid,
The sonne of Æsculapius, the great Phisition.
To fleet they flew. Cebriones perceiv'd the slaughter done
By Ajax on the other troopes, and spake to Hector thus:
‘Whiles we encounter Grecians here, sterne Telamonius
Is yonder raging, turning up in heapes our horse and men.
I know him by his spacious shield. Let us turne chariot then
Where both of horse and foote the fight most hotely is proposde
In mutuall slaughters. Harke, their throats from cries are never closd.’
This said, with his shrill scourge he strooke the horse, that fast ensude,
Stung with his lashes, tossing shields and carkasses imbrude.
The chariot-tree was drownd in blood and th' arches by the seate
Disperpled from the horses' hoves and from the wheele-bands' beate.
Great Hector long'd to breake the rankes and startle their close fight,
Who horribly amaz'd the Greeks and plyed their suddaine fright
With busie weapons, ever wingd—his lance, sword, weightie stones.
Yet charg'd he other Leaders' bands, not dreadfull Telamon's,
With whom he wisely shund foule blowes. But Jove (that weighs above
All humane pow'rs) to Ajax' breast divine repressions drove
And made him shun who shund himselfe: he ceast from fight amaz'd,
Cast on his backe his seaven-fold shield and round about him gaz'd
Like one turnd wilde, lookt on himselfe in his distract retreate:
Knee before knee did scarcely move. As when from heards of Neate
Whole threaves of Bores and mungrils chace a Lion skulking neare,
Loth he should taint the wel-prisd fat of any stall-fed steere,
Consuming all the night in watch; he (greedie of his prey)
Oft thrusting on is oft thrust off, so thicke the Javelins play
On his bold charges and so hote the burning firebrands shine,
Which he (though horrible) abhors about his glowing eyne
And early his great heart retires: so Ajax from the foe,
For feare their fleet should be inflam'd, gainst his swolne heart did go.
As when a dull mill Asse comes neare a goodly field of corne,
Kept from the birds by children's cries, the boyes are overborne
By his insensible approach and simply he will eate,
About whom many wands are broke, and still the children beate,
And still the selfe-providing Asse doth with their weaknesse beare,
Not stirring till his panch be full, and scarcely then will stere:
So the huge sonne of Telamon amongst the Troyans far'd,
Bore showers of darts upon his shield, yet scornd to flie as skar'd;
And so kept softlie on his way, nor would he mend his pace
For all their violent pursuits, that still did arme the chace
With singing lances. But at last, when their Cur-like presumes,
More urg'd, the more forborne, his spirits did rarifie their fumes
And he revokt his active strength, turnd head and did repell
The horse troopes that were new made in; twixt whom the fight grew fell
And by degrees he stole retreate, yet with such puissant stay
That none could passe him to the fleet. In both the armies' sway
He stood and from strong hands receiv'd sharpe Javelins on his shield,
Where many stucke, throwne on before; many fell short in field
Ere the white bodie they could reach and stucke, as telling how
They purposd to have pierc't his flesh. His perill pierced now
The eyes of Prince Eurypylus, Euæmon's famous sonne,
Who came close on and with his dart strooke Duke Apisaon,
Whose surname was Phausiades, even to the concrete blood
That makes the liver: on the earth out gusht his vitall flood.
Eurypylus made in and easd his shoulders of his armes;
Which Paris seeing, he drew his bow and wreakt in part the harmes
Of his good friend Phausiades: his arrow he let flie
That smote Eurypylus and brake in his attainted thie.
Then tooke he troope to shun blacke death, and to the flyers cride:
‘Princes, and Leaders of the Greeks, stand and repulse the tide
Of this our honour-wracking chace. Ajax is drownd in darts,
I feare past scape. Turne, honord friends, helpe out his ventrous parts.’
Thus spake the wounded Greeke: the sound cast on their backs their shields
And raisd their darts; to whose reliefe Ajax his person wields.
Then stood he firmely with his friends, retiring their retire.
And thus both hosts indifferent joynd; the fight grew hote as fire.
Now had Neleides' sweating steeds brought him and his hurt friend
Amongst their Fleet. Æacides, that wishly did intend
(Standing asterne his tall-neckt ship) how deepe the skirmish drew
Amongst the Greeks and with what ruth the insecution grew,
Saw Nestor bring Machaon hurt, and from within did call
His friend Patroclus, who like Mars in forme celestiall
Came forth with first sound of his voice (first spring of his decay)
And askt his Princely friend's desire. ‘Deare friend,’ said he, ‘this day
I doubt not will enforce the Greeks to swarme about my knees:
I see unsufferd Need imployd in their extremities.
Go, sweet Patroclus, and enquire of old Neleides
Whom he brought wounded from the fight: by his backe parts I guesse
It is Machaon, but his face I could not well descrie,
They past me in such earnest speed.’ Patroclus presently
Obeyd his friend and ran to know. They now descended were
And Nestor's squire Eurymedon the horses did ungeare.
Themselves stood neare th' extremest shore, to let the gentle aire
Drie up their sweat; then to the tent, where Hecamed the faire
Set chaires and for the wounded Prince a potion did prepare.
This Hecamed, by war's hard fate, fell to old Nestor's share
When Thetis' sonne sackt Tenedos. She was the Princely seed
Of worthie king Arsinous, and by the Greeks decreed
The prize of Nestor, since all men in counsell he surpast.
First, a faire table she apposd of which the feet were grac't
With blewish mettall mixt with blacke; and on the same she put
A brasse fruit dish, in which she serv'd a holsome Onion cut
For pittance to the potion, and honey newly wrought,
And bread, the fruite of sacred meale. Then to the boord she brought
A right faire cup, with gold studs driven, which Nestor did transfer
From Pylos; on whose swelling sides foure handles fixed were
And upon everie handle sate a paire of doves of gold,
Some billing and some pecking meate. Two gilt feet did uphold
The antique body, and withall, so weightie was the cup
That, being proposd brim full of wine, one scarse could lift it up:
Yet Nestor drunke in it with ease, spite of his yeares' respect.
In this the Goddesse-like faire Dame a potion did confect
With good old wine of Pramnius, and scrap't into the wine
Cheese made of Goate's milke, and on it sperst flow'r exceeding fine.
In this sort for the wounded Lord the potion she prepar'd
And bad him drinke: for companie, with him old Nestor shar'd.
Thus physically quencht they thirst, and then their spirits reviv'd
With pleasant conference. And now Patroclus, being arriv'd,
Made stay at th' entrie of the tent. Old Nestor, seeing it,
Rose and receiv'd him by the hand and faine would have him sit.
He set that courtesie aside, excusing it with hast,
Since his much-to-be-reverenc't friend sent him to know who past
(Wounded with him in chariot) so swiftly through the shore—
‘Whom now,’ said he, ‘I see and know, and now can stay no more.
You know, good father, our great friend is apt to take offence,
Whose fierie temper will inflame sometimes with innocence.’
He answerd: ‘When will Peleus’ sonne some royall pittie show
On his thus wounded contrimen? Ah, is he yet to know
How much affliction tires our host—how our especiall aide
(Tainted with lances) at their tents are miserably laide?
Ulysses, Diomed, our King, Eurypylus, Machaon
All hurt, and all our worthiest friends; yet no compassion
Can supple thy friend's friendlesse breast. Doth he reserve his eye
Till our fleet burne and we our selves one after other die?
Alas, my forces are not now as in my yonger life!
Oh would to God I had that strength I used in the strife
Betwixt us and the Elians, for Oxen to be driven,
When Itymoneus' loftie soule was by my valour given
As sacrifice to destinie, Hypirochus' strong sonne
That dwelt in Elis and fought first in our contention.
We forrag'd (as proclaimed foes) a wondrous wealthie boote
And he, in rescue of his Herds, fell breathlesse at my foote.
All the Dorpe Bores with terror fled: our prey was rich and great,
Twise five and twentie flocks of sheepe, as many herds of neate,
As many goates and nastie swine, a hundred fiftie mares
All sorrell, most with sucking foales; and these soone-monied wares
We drave into Neleius' towne, faire Pylos, all by night.
My father's heart was glad to see so much good fortune quite
The forward mind of his young sonne, that usde my youth in deeds
And would not smother it in moods. Now drew the Sun's bright steeds
Light from the hils: our heralds now accited all that were
Endamag'd by the Elians: our Princes did appeare:
Our boote was parted: many men th' Epeians much did owe,
That (being our neighbors) they did spoile: afflictions did so flow
On us poore Pylians, though but few. In brake great Hercules
To our sad confines of late yeares, and wholly did suppresse
Our haplesse Princes. Twice sixe sonnes renownd Neleius bred;
Onely my selfe am left of all, the rest subdude and dead.
And this was it that made so proud the base Epeian bands
On their neare neighbors, being opprest, to lay injurious hands.
A heard of Oxen for himselfe, a mightie flocke of sheepe,
My Syre selected, and made choice of shepheards for their keep;
And from the generall spoyle he culd three hundred of the best:
The Elians ought him infinite, most plagu'd of all the rest.
Foure wager-winning horse he lost and chariots intervented,
Being led to an appointed race. The prize that was presented
Was a religious threefoote urne. Augeas was the king
That did detaine them and dismist their keeper sorrowing
For his lov'd charge, lost with foule words. Then both for words and deeds
My Sire, being worthily incenst, thus justly he proceeds
To satisfaction, in first choice of all our wealthie prize;
And as he shar'd much, much he left his subjects to suffise,
That none might be opprest with power or want his portion due.
Thus for the publike good we shar'd. Then we to temples drue
Our complete citie, and to heaven we thankfull rights did burne
For our rich conquest. The third day ensuing our returne
The Elians flew on us in heapes: their generall Leaders were
The two Moliones, two boyes untrained in the feare
Of horrid warre or use of strength. A certaine citie shines
Upon a loftie Prominent and in th' extreme confines
Of sandie Pylos, seated where Alpheus' flood doth run
And cald Thryessa: this they sieg'd and gladly would have wun;
But (having past through all our fields) Minerva as our spie
Fell from Olympus in the night and arm'd us instantly.
Nor mustred she unwilling men nor unprepar'd for force.
My Sire yet would not let me arme, but hid away my horse,
Esteeming me no souldier yet: yet shin'd I nothing lesse
Amongst our Gallants, though on foote: Minerva's mightinesse
Led me to fight and made me beare a souldier's worthie name.
There is a floud fals into sea and his crookt course doth frame
Close to Arena, and is cald bright Minyæus' streame.
There made we halt, and there the Sun cast many a glorious beame
On our bright armours: horse and foote insea'd together there;
Then marcht we on. By fierie noone we saw the sacred cleare
Of great Alpheus, where to Jove we did faire sacrifice,
And to the azure God that rules the under-liquid skies
We offerd up a solemne Bull, a bull t' Alpheus' name,
And to the blew-eyd maid we burnd a heifer never tame.
Now was it night: we supt and slept about the flood in armes.
The foe laide hard siege to our towne and shooke it with alarmes;
But for prevention of their splenes a mightie worke of warre
Appeard behind them. For, as soone as Phœbus' fierie Carre
Cast night's foule darknes from his wheeles, (invoking reverend Jove
And the unconquerd maide—his birth) we did th' event approve
And gave them battell. First of all, I slue (the armie saw)
The mightie souldier Mulius, Augeias' sonne in law,
And spoyld him of his one-hov'd horse: his eldest daughter was
Bright Agamede that for skill in simples did surpasse
And knew as many kind of drugs as earth's brode center bred.
Him charg'd I with my brasse-arm'd lance: the dust receiv'd him dead.
I (leaping to his chariot) amongst the formost prest,
And the great-hearted Elians fled frighted, seeing their best
And lofti'st souldier taken downe, the Generall of their horse.
I follow'd like a blacke whirlwind and did for prize enforce
Full fiftie chariots, everie one furnisht with two arm'd men,
Who eate the earth, slaine with my lance. And I had slaughterd then
The two young boyes, Moliones, if their world-circling Sire,
Great Neptune, had not saft their lives and covered their retire
With unpierc't clouds. Then Jove bestow'd a haughtie victorie
Upon us Pylians. For so long we did the chase apply,
Slaughtring and making spoile of armes, till sweet Buprasius' soile,
Alesius and Olenia were fam'd with our recoile.
For there Minerva turnd our power; and there the last I slew,
As when our battell joyn'd, the first: the Pylians then withdrew
To Pylos from Buprasius. Of all the Immortals then,
They most thankt Jove for victorie, Nestor the most of men.
Such was I ever, if I were employd with other Peeres,
And I had honour of my youth, which dies not in my yeares.
But Great Achilles onely joyes habilitie of act
In his brave Prime and doth not daine t' impart it where tis lackt.
No doubt he will extremely mourne, long after, that blacke howre
Wherein our ruine shall be wrought and rue his ruthlesse powre.
O friend, my memorie revives the charge Menœtius gave
Thy towardnesse when thou setst forth to keepe out of the grave
Our wounded honour. I my selfe and wise Ulysses were
Within the roome, where everie word then spoken we did heare;
For we were come to Peleus' Court as we did mustering passe
Through rich Achaia where thy Sire, renownd Menœtius, was,
Thy selfe and great Æacides—when Peleus the King
To thunder-loving Jove did burne an Oxe for offering
In his Court-yard: a cup of gold crownd with red wine he held
On th' holy Incensorie pour'd. You, when the Oxe was feld,
Were dressing his divided lims: we in the Portall stood.
Achilles seeing us come so neare, his honorable blood
Was strooke with a respective shame, rose, tooke us by the hands,
Brought us both in and made us sit and usde his kind commands
For seemely hospitable rights, which quickly were apposd.
Then (after needfulnesse of foode) I first of all disclosd
The royall cause of our repaire, mov'd you and your great friend
To consort our renown'd designes: both straight did condescend:
Your fathers knew it, gave consent and grave instruction
To both your valours. Peleus charg'd his most unequald sonne
To governe his victorious strength and shine past all the rest
In honour as in meere maine force. Then were thy partings blest
With deare advices from thy Sire. “My loved sonne,” said he,
“Achilles by his grace of birth superiour is to thee
And for his force more excellent, yet thou more ripe in yeares.
Then with sound counsels (age's fruits) imploy his honord eares;
Command and overrule his moodes; his nature will obay
In any charge discreetly given that doth his good assay.”
Thus charg'd thy Sire, which thou forgetst. Yet now at last approve
(With forced reference of these) th' attraction of his love.
Who knowes if sacred influence may blesse thy good intent
And enter with thy gracious words even to his full consent?
The admonition of a friend is sweet and vehement.
If any Oracle he shun or if his mother Queene
Hath brought him some instinct from Jove that fortifies his spleene,
Let him resigne command to thee of all his Myrmidons
And yeeld by that meanes some repulse to our confusions,
Adorning thee in his bright armes, that his resembled forme
May haply make thee thought himselfe and calme this hostile storme—
That so a little we may ease our overcharged hands,
Draw some breath, not expire it all. The foe but faintly stands
Beneath his labours, and your charge, being fierce and freshly given,
They easly from our tents and fleet may to their walls be driven.’
This mov'd the good Patroclus' mind, who made his utmost haste
T' informe his friend; and as the fleet of Ithacus he past
(At which their markets were disposd, counsels and martiall courts
And where to th' Altars of the Gods they made divine resorts)
He met renownd Eurypylus, Euæmon's noble sonne,
Halting, his thigh hurt with a shaft; the liquid sweate did run
Downe from his shoulders and his browes, and from his raging wound
Forth flow'd his melancholy blood, yet still his mind was sound.
His sight in kinde Patroclus' breast to sacred pittie turnd
And (nothing more immartiall for true ruth) thus he mournd:
‘Ah wretched progenie of Greece, Princes, dejected kings,
Was it your fates to nourish beasts and serve the outcast wings
Of savage Vultures here in Troy? Tell me, Euæmon's fame,
Do yet the Greeks withstand his force whom yet no force can tame?
Or are they hopelesse throwne to death by his resistlesse lance?’
‘Divine Patroclus,’ he replide, ‘no more can Greece advance
Defensive weapons, but to fleet they headlong must retire,
For those that to this howre have held our fleet from hostile fire
And are the bulwarks of our host lie wounded at their tents,
And Troy's unvanquishable powre still as it toiles augments.
But take me to thy blacke-sternd ship, save me, and from my thie
Cut out this arrow and the blood that is ingor'd and drie
Wash with warme water from the wound: then gentle salves apply,
Which thou knowest best—thy Princely friend hath taught thee surgerie,
Whom (of all Centaures the most just) Chiron did institute.
Thus to thy honorable hands my ease I prosecute,
Since our Physitians cannot helpe: Machaon at his tent
Needs a Physitian himselfe, being Leach and patient,
And Podalirius in the field the sharpe conflict sustaines.’
Strong Menœtiades replide: ‘How shall I ease thy paines?
What shall we do, Eurypylus? I am to use all haste
To signifie to Thetis' sonne occurrents that have past,
At Nestor's honorable suite. But be that worke atchiev'd,
When this is done, I will not leave thy torments unreliev'd.’
This said, athwart his backe he cast, beneath his breast, his arme
And nobly helpt him to his tent. His servants, seeing his harme,
Dispread Ox-hides upon the earth whereon Machaon lay.
Patroclus cut out the sharpe shaft and clearely washt away
With luke-warme water the blacke blood: then twixt his hands he brusde
A sharpe and mitigatorie roote, which, when he had infusde
Into the greene well-cleansed wound, the paines he felt before
Were well, and, instantly allaid, the wound did bleed no more.
To bring each deathlesse essence light, and use to mortall eyes;
When Jove sent Eris to the Greekes, sustaining in her hand
Sterne signes of her designes for warre. She tooke her horrid stand
Upon Ulysses' huge blacke Barke, that did at anchor ride
Amidst the fleet; from whence her sounds might ring on every side,
Both to the tents of Telamon and th' authors of their smarts,
Who held, for fortitude and force, the navie's utmost parts.
The red-eyd Goddesse, seated there, thunderd th' Orthian song,
High and with horror, through the eares of all the Grecian throng.
Her verse with spirits invincible did all their breasts inspire,
Blew out all starknesse from their lims and set their hearts on fire.
And presently was bitter warre more sweet a thousand times
Than any choice in hollow keeles to greet their native climes.
Atrides summon'd all to armes, to armes himselfe disposde.
First on his legs he put bright Greaves, with silver buttons closde,
Then with rich Curace arm'd his breast, which Cinyras bestow'd
To gratifie his royall guest; for even to Cyprus flow'd
Th' unbounded fame of those designes the Greeks proposde for Troy,
And therefore gave he him those armes and wisht his purpose joy.
Ten rowes of azure mixt with blacke, twelve golden like the Sunne,
Twise ten of tin, in beaten paths did through this armour runne.
Three serpents to the gorget crept, that like three rain-bowes shin'd,
Such as by Jove are fixt in clouds when wonders are divin'd.
About his shoulders hung his sword, whereof the hollow hilt
Was fashion'd all with shining barres exceeding richly gilt.
The scaberd was of silver plate with golden hangers grac't.
Then tooke he up his weightie shield, that round about him cast
Defensive shadowes. Ten bright zones of gold-affecting brasse
Were driven about it, and of tin (as full of glosse as glasse)
Sweld twentie bosses out of it: in center of them all
One of blacke mettall had engraven (full of extreme appall)
An ugly Gorgon, compassed with Terror and with Feare.
At it, a silver Bawdricke hung, with which he usde to beare
(Wound on his arme) his ample shield; and in it there was woven
An azure Dragon curl'd in folds, from whose one necke was cloven
Three heads contorted in an orbe. Then plac't he on his head
His foure-plum'd caske, and in his hands two darts he managed,
Arm'd with bright steele that blaz'd to heaven. Then Juno and the maide
That conquers Empires trumpets serv'd to summon out their aide
In honor of the Generall, and on a sable cloud
(To bring them furious to the field) sate thundring out aloud.
Then all enjoyn'd their charioteers to ranke their chariot horse
Close to the dike; forth march: the foot, whose front they did r'enforce
With some horse troupes. The battell then was all of Charioteers,
Lin'd with light horse. But Jupiter disturb'd this forme with feares,
And from aire's upper region did bloudie vapors raine
For sad ostent much noble life should ere their times be slaine.
The Troyan hoast, at Ilus' tombe, was in Battalia led
By Hector and Polydamas and old Anchises' seed,
Who God-like was esteem'd in Troy, by grave Antenor's race
Divine Agenor, Polybus, unmaried Acamas,
Proportion'd like the states of heaven. In front of all the field
Troy's great Priamides did beare his al-wayes-equall shield,
Still plying th' ordering of his power. And as amids the skie
We sometimes see an ominous starre blaze cleare and dreadfully,
Then run his golden head in clouds and straight appeare againe
So Hector otherwhiles did grace the vaunt-guard, shining plaine,
Then in the rere-guard hid himselfe and labour'd every where
To order and encourage all: his armor was so cleare
And he applide each place so fast that, like a lightning throwne
Out of the shield of Jupiter, in every eye he shone.
And as upon a rich man's crop of barley or of wheate
(Opposde for swiftnesse at their worke) a sort of reapers sweate,
Beare downe the furrowes speedily, and thicke their handfuls fall:
So at the joyning of the hoasts ran Slaughter through them all.
None stoopt to any fainting thought of foule inglorious flight
But equall bore they up their heads and far'd like wolves in fight
Sterne Eris, with such weeping sights, rejoyc't to feed her eies,
Who onely shew'd her selfe in field of all the Deities.
The other in Olympus' tops sate silent and repin'd
That Jove to do the Troyans grace should beare so fixt a mind.
He car'd not but (enthron'd apart) triumphant sat in sway
Of his free power, and from his seate tooke pleasure to display
The citie so adorn'd with towres, the sea with vessels fild,
The splendor of refulgent armes, the killer and the kild.
As long as bright Aurora rul'd and sacred day increast,
So long their darts made mutuall wounds and neither had the best:
But when in hill-environ'd vales the timber-feller takes
A sharpe-set stomacke to his meate and dinner ready makes,
His sinewes fainting and his spirits become surcharg'd and dull,
Time of accustom'd ease arriv'd, his hands with labour full,
Then by their valours Greeks brake through the Troyan rankes and chear'd
Their generall Squadrons through the hoast. Then first of all appear'd
The person of the King himselfe, and then the Troyans lost
Bianor by his royall charge, a leader in the host,
Who being slaine, his chariotere, Oileus, did alight
And stood in skirmish with the king. The king did deadly smite
His forehead with his eager lance and through his helme it ranne,
Enforcing passage to his braine, quite through the hardned pan;
His braine mixt with his clotterd bloud, his body strewd the ground.
There left he them, and presently he other objects found,
Isus and Antiphus, two sonnes king Priam did beget,
One lawfull, th' other wantonly. Both in one chariot met
Their royall foe: the baser borne, Isus, was chariotere
And famous Antiphus did fight; both which king Peleus' heire
(Whilome in Ida keeping flocks) did deprehend and bind
With pliant Osiers and for prize them to their Sire resign'd.
Atrides with his well-aim'd lance smote Isus on the brest
Above the nipple, and his sword a mortall wound imprest
Beneath the eare of Antiphus: downe from their horse they fell.
The king had seene the youths before and now did know them well,
Remembring them the prisoners of swift Æacides,
Who brought them to the sable fleet from Ida's foodie leas.
And as a Lion having found the furrow of a Hind
Where she hath calv'd two little twins, at will and ease doth grind
Their joynts snatcht in his sollide jawes and crusheth into mist
Their tender lives, their dam (though neare) not able to resist
But shooke with vehement feare her selfe, flies through the Oaken chace
From that fell savage, drown'd in sweat, and seekes some covert place:
So, when with most unmatched strength the Grecian Generall bent
Gainst these two Princes, none durst ayd their native king's descent
But fled themselves before the Greeks. And where these two were slaine,
Pisander and Hippolochus (not able to restraine
Their head-strong horse, the silken reines being from their hands let fall)
Were brought by their unruly guides before the Generall.
Antimachus begat them both, Antimachus that tooke
Rich guifts and gold of Helen's love and would by no meanes brooke
Just restitution should be made of Menelaus' wealth,
Bereft him, with his ravisht Queene, by Alexander's stealth.
Atrides Lion-like did charge his sonnes, who on their knees
Fell from their chariot and besought regard to their degrees,
Who, being Antimachus his sonnes, their father would affoord
A worthie ransome for their lives, who in his house did hoord
Much hidden treasure, brasse and gold and steele wrought wondrous choise.
Thus wept they, using smoothing terms, and heard this rugged voice
Breath'd from the unrelenting king: ‘If you be of the breed
Of stout Antimachus that staid the honorable deed
The other Peeres of Ilion in counsell had decreed
To render Helen and her wealth, and would have basely slaine
My brother and wise Ithacus, Ambassadors t' attaine
The most due motion, now receive wreake for his shamefull part.’
This said, in poore Pisander's breast he fixt his wreakfull dart,
Who upward spread th' oppressed earth. His brother croucht for dread,
And, as he lay, the angrie king cut off his armes and head
And let him like a football lie for everie man to spurne.
Then to th' extremest heate of fight he did his valour turne
And led a multitude of Greeks where foote did foote subdue,
Horse slaughterd horse, Need featherd flight, the batterd center flew
In clouds of dust about their eares, raisd from the horses' hooves,
That beat a thunder out of earth as horrible as Jove's.
The king (perswading speedie chace) gave his perswasions way
With his owne valour, slaughtring still. As in a stormie day
In thicke-set woods a ravenous fire wraps in his fierce repaire
The shaken trees, and by the rootes doth tosse them into aire:
Even so beneath Atrides' sword flew up Troy's flying heeles,
Their horse drew emptie chariots and sought their thundring wheeles
Some fresh directors through the field, where least the pursuite drives.
Thicke fell the Troyans, much more sweet to Vultures than their wives.
Then Jove drew Hector from the darts, from dust, from death and blood
And from the tumult. Still the king firme to the pursuite stood
Till at old Ilus' monument, in midst of all the field,
They reacht the wild Figtree and long'd to make their towne their shield.
Yet there they rested not: the king still cride: ‘Pursue, pursue,’
And all his unreproved hands did blood and dust embrue.
But when they came to Scæa's ports and to the Beech of Jove,
There made they stand; there everie eye, fixt on each other, strove
Who should outlooke his mate amaz'd: through all the field they fled.
And as a Lion, when the night becomes most deafe and dead,
Invades Oxe heards, affrighting all, that he of one may wreake
His dreadfull hunger, and his necke he first of all doth breake,
Then laps his blood and entrailes up: so Agamemnon plide
The manage of the Troyan chace, and still the last man di'd,
The other fled, a number fell by his imperiall hand,
Some groveling downwards from their horse, some upwards strew'd the sand.
High was the furie of his lance; but, having beat them close
Beneath their walls, the both-world's Sire did now againe repose
On fountaine-flowing Ida's tops, being newly slid from heaven,
And held a lightning in his hand. From thence this charge was given
To Iris with the golden wings: ‘Thaumantia, flie,’ said he,
‘And tell Troy's Hector that as long as he enrag'd shall see
The souldier-loving Atreus' sonne amongst the formost fight,
Depopulating troopes of men, so long he must excite
Some other to resist the foe and he no armes advance:
But, when he wounded takes his horse, attain'd with shaft or lance,
Then will I fill his arme with death even till he reach the Fleet
And peacefull night treads busie day beneath her sacred feet.’
The wind-foot-swift Thaumantia obeyd and usd her wings
To famous Ilion from the mount enchaste with silver springs,
And found in his bright chariot the hardie Troyan knight,
To whom she spake the words of Jove, and vanisht from his sight.
He leapt upon the sounding earth and shooke his lengthfull dart
And everie where he breath'd exhorts and stird up everie heart.
A dreadfull fight he set on foote: his souldiers straight turnd head.
The Greekes stood firme: in both the hoasts the field was perfected.
But Agamemnon formost still did all his side exceed
And would not be the first in name unlesse the first in deed.
Now sing, faire Presidents of verse that in the heavens embowre,
Who first encountred with the king of all the adverse powre.
Iphidamas, Antenor's sonne, ample and bigly set,
Brought up in pasture-springing Thrace that doth soft sheepe beget,
In grave Cisseus' noble house, that was his mother's Sire
(Faire Theano); and, when his breast was heightned with the fire
Of gaisome youth, his grandsire gave his daughter to his love,
Who straight his bridall chamber left. Fame with affection strove
And made him furnish twelve faire ships to lend faire Troy his hand.
His ships he in Percote left and came to Troy by land,
And now he tried the fame of Greece, encountring with the king,
Who threw his royall lance, and mist. Iphidamas did fling
And strooke him on the arming waste beneath his coate of brasse,
Which forc't him stay upon his arme, so violent it was;
Yet pierc't it not his wel-wrought zone, but when the lazie head
Tried hardnesse with his silver waste it turnd againe like lead.
He follow'd, grasping the ground end, but, with a Lion's wile
That wrests away a hunter's staffe, he caught it by the pile
And pluckt it from the caster's hand, whom with his sword he strooke
Beneath the eare, and with his wound his timelesse death he tooke.
He fell and slept an iron sleepe: wretched young man, he dide
Farre from his newly-married wife, in aide of forreine pride,
And saw no pleasure of his love: yet was her joynture great—
An hundred Oxen gave he her, and vow'd in his retreate
Two thousand head of sheepe and Goates, of which he store did leave;
Much gave he of his love's first fruits and nothing did receive.
When Coon (one that for his forme might feast an amorous eye,
And elder brother of the slaine) beheld this tragedie,
Deepe sorrow sate upon his eyes, and (standing laterally
And to the Generall undiscernd) his Javelin he let flie,
That twixt his elbow and his wrist transfixt his armelesse arme:
The bright head shin'd on th' other side. The unexpected harme
Imprest some horror in the king; yet so he ceast not fight,
But rusht on Coon with his lance, who made what haste he might
(Seising his slaughterd brother's foote) to draw him from the field
And cald the ablest to his aide, when under his round shield
The king's brasse Javelin, as he drew, did strike him helplesse dead,
Who made Iphidamas the blocke and cut off Coon's head.
Thus under great Atrides' arme Antenor's issue thriv'd
And to suffise precisest fate to Pluto's mansion div'd.
He with his lance, sword, mightie stones, pour'd his Heroicke wreake
On other Squadrons of the foe, whiles yet warme blood did breake
Through his cleft veines: but, when the wound was quite exhaust and crude,
The eager anguish did approve his Princely fortitude.
As, when most sharpe and bitter pangs distract a labouring Dame,
Which the divine Ilithyæ that rule the painefull frame
Of humane child-birth poure on her—th' Ilithyæ that are
The daughters of Saturnia, with whose extreme repaire
The woman in her travell strives, to take the worst it gives,
With thought it must be, tis love's fruite, the end for which she lives,
The meane to make her selfe new-borne, what comforts will redound:
So Agamemnon did sustaine the torment of his wound.
Then tooke he chariot, and to Fleet bad haste his chariotere,
But first pour'd out his highest voice to purchase everie eare:
‘Princes and Leaders of the Greekes, brave friends, now from our fleet
Do you expell this boistrous sway. Jove will not let me meet
Illustrate Hector, nor give leave that I shall end the day
In fight against the Ilian power: my wound is in my way.’
This said, his readie chariotere did scourge his spritefull horse,
That freely to the sable fleet performd their fierie course,
To beare their wounded Soveraigne apart the Martiall thrust,
Sprinkling their powerfull breasts with foame and snowing on the dust.
When Hector heard of his retreate, thus he for fame contends:
‘Troyans, Dardanians, Lycians, all my close-fighting friends,
Thinke what it is to be renownd: be souldiers all of name.
Our strongest enemie is gone: Jove vowes to do us fame.
Then in the Grecian faces drive your one-hov'd violent steeds
And farre above their best be best, and glorifie your deeds.’
Thus as a dog-given Hunter sets upon a brace of Bores
His white-toothd hounds, pufs, showts, breaths terms and on his emprese pores
All his wild art to make them pinch: so Hector urg'd his host
To charge the Greeks, and he himselfe most bold and active most.
He brake into the heate of fight, as when a tempest raves,
Stoops from the clouds and all on heapes doth cuffe the purple waves.
Who then was first and last he kild when Jove did grace his deed?
Asæus and Autonous, Opys and Clytus' seed,
Prince Dolops, and the honord Sire of sweet Euryalus,
Opheltes, Agelaus next and strong Hipponous,
Orus, Æsymnus, all of name. The common souldiers fell
As when the hollow flood of aire in Zephyr's cheeks doth swell
And sparseth all the gatherd clouds white Notus' power did draw,
Wraps waves in waves, hurls up the froath beat with a vehement flaw:
So were the common souldiers wrackt in troops by Hector's hand.
Then ruine had enforc't such works as no Greeks could withstand:
Then in their fleete they had bene housd—had not Laertes' sonne
Stird up the spirit of Diomed with this impression:
‘Tydides, what do we sustaine, forgetting what we are?
Stand by me, dearest in my love: twere horrible impaire
For our two valours to endure a customarie flight,
To leave our navie still ingag'd and but by fits to fight.’
He answerd: ‘I am bent to stay and any thing sustaine:
But our delight to prove us men will prove but short and vaine,
For Jove makes Troyans instruments, and virtually then
Wields arms himselfe: our crosse affaires are not twixt men and men.’
This said, Thymbræus with his lance he tumbled from his horse,
Neare his left nipple wounding him. Ulysses did enforce
Faire Molion, minion to this king that Diomed subdude.
Both sent they thence till they returnd, who now the king pursude
And furrowed through the thickned troopes. As when two chaced Bores
Turne head gainst kennels of bold hounds and race way through their gores,
So (turnd from flight) the forward kings shew'd Troyans backward death,
Nor fled the Greeks but by their wils, to get great Hector breath.
Then tooke they horse and chariot from two bold citie foes,
Merops Percosius' mightie sonnes: their father could disclose,
Beyond all men, hid Auguries and would not give consent
To their egression to these wars, yet wilfully they went,
For Fates that order sable death enforc't their tragedies.
Tydides slue them with his lance and made their armes his prise.
Hypirochus and Hippodam, Ulysses reft of light,
But Jove, that out of Ida lookt, then equallisde the fight:
A Grecian for a Troyan then paide tribute to the Fates,
Yet royall Diomed slue one, even in those even debates,
That was of name more than the rest—Pæon's renowned sonne,
The Prince Agastrophus: his lance into his hip did run;
His Squire detaind his horse apart, that hindred him to flie,
Which he repented at his heart; yet did his feet applie
His scape with all the speed they had alongst the formost bands,
And there his loved life dissolv'd. This Hector understands,
And rusht with clamor on the king, right soundly seconded
With troupes of Troyans; which perceiv'd by famous Diomed,
The deepe conceit of Jove's high will stifned his royall haire,
Who spake to neare-fought Ithacus: ‘The fate of this affaire
Is bent to us: come, let us stand and bound his violence.’
Thus threw he his long Javelin forth, which smote his head's defence
Full on the top, yet pierc't no skin: brasse tooke repulse with brasse.
His helme (with three folds made, and sharpe) the gift of Phœbus was.
The blow made Hector take the troupe, sunke him upon his hand
And strooke him blind: the king pursude, before the formost band,
His dart's recoverie, which he found laid on the purple plaine:
By which time Hector was reviv'd and, taking horse againe,
Was farre commixt within his strength and fled his darksome grave.
He followd with his thirstie lance and this elusive Brave:
‘Once more be thankfull to thy heeles, proud dog, for thy escape.
Mischiefe sate neare thy bosome now; and now another rape
Hath thy Apollo made of thee, to whom thou well maist pray
When through the singing of our darts thou findst such guarded way.
But I shall meet with thee at length and bring thy latest houre,
If with like favour any God be fautor of my powre.
Meane while, some other shall repay what I suspend in thee.’
This said, he set the wretched soule of Pæon's issue free,
Whom his late wound not fully slue. But Priam's amorous birth
Against Tydides bent his bow, hid with a hill of earth,
Part of the ruinated tombe for honor'd Ilus built,
And, as the Curace of the slaine (engraven and richly gilt)
Tydides from his breast had spoild and from his shoulders raft
His target and his solide helme, he shot; and his keene shaft
(That never flew from him in vaine) did naile unto the ground
The king's right foot. The spleenfull knight laught sweetly at the wound,
Crept from his covert and triumpht: ‘Now art thou maimd,’ said he,
‘And would to God my happie hand had so much honor'd me
To have infixt it in thy breast as deepe as in thy foote,
Even to th' expulsure of thy soule: then blest had bene my shoote
Of all the Troyans, who had then breath'd from their long unrests,
Who feare thee as the braying Goates abhorre the king of beasts.’
Undanted Diomed replide: ‘You Braver with your bow,
You slick-hair'd lover, you that hunt and fleere at wenches so,
Durst thou but stand in armes with me, thy silly archerie
Would give thee little cause to vaunt. As little suffer I
In this same tall exploit of thine, perform'd when thou wert hid,
As if a woman or a child, that knew not what it did,
Had toucht my foote. A coward's steele hath never any edge,
But mine (t' assure it sharpe) still layes dead carkasses in pledge.
Touch it: it renders livelesse straight: it strikes the fingers' ends
Of haplesse widowes in their cheeks, and children blind of friends:
The subject of it makes earth red and aire with sighes inflames,
And leaves lims more embrac't with birds than with enamour'd Dames.’
Lance-fam'd Ulysses now came in and stept before the king,
Kneeld opposite, and drew the shaft. The eager paine did sting
Through all his bodie: straight he tooke his royall chariot there
And with direction to the fleete did charge his chariotere.
Now was Ulysses desolate: feare made no friend remaine.
He thus spake to his mightie mind: ‘What doth my state sustaine?
If I should flie this ods in feare, that thus comes clustring on,
Twere high dishonour: yet twere worse to be surprisd alone.
Tis Jove that drives the rest to flight; but that's a faint excuse.
Why do I tempt my mind so much? Pale cowards fight refuse:
He that affects renowne in warre must like a rocke be fixt,
Wound or be wounded: valour's truth puts no respect betwixt.’
In this contention with himselfe, in flew the shadie bands
Of targateres, who sieg'd him round with mischiefe-filled hands.
As when a crew of gallants watch the wild muse of a Bore,
Their dogs put after in full crie, he rusheth on before,
Whets, with his lather-making jawes, his crooked tuskes for blood
And (holding firme his usuall haunts) breakes through the deepned wood,
They charging, though his hote approch be never so abhord:
So to assaile the Jove-lov'd Greeke, the Ilians did accord
And he made through them: first he hurt, upon his shoulder blade
Deiops, a blamelesse man at armes, then sent to endlesse shade
Thoon and Ennomus, and strooke the strong Chersidamas,
As from his chariot he leapt downe, beneath his targe of brasse,
Who fell and crawld upon the earth with his sustaining palmes
And left the fight. Nor yet his lance left dealing Martiall almes,
But Socus' brother by both sides, yong Charops, did impresse.
Then Princely Socus to his aide made brotherly accesse
And (coming neare) spake in his charge: ‘O great Laertes’ sonne,
Insatiate in slie stratagems and labours never done,
This houre or thou shalt boast to kill the two Hippasides
And prize their armes, or fall thy selfe in my resolv'd accesse.’
This said, he threw quite through his shield his fell and well-driven lance,
Which held way through his curaces and on his ribs did glance,
Plowing the flesh alongst his sides: but Pallas did repell
All inward passage to his life. Ulysses, knowing well
The wound undeadly, (setting backe his foote to forme his stand)
Thus spake to Socus: ‘O thou wretch, thy death is in this hand,
That stay'st my victorie on Troy, and where thy charge was made
In doubtfull terms (or this or that) this shall thy life invade.’
This frighted Socus to retreate, and in his faint reverse
The lance betwixt his shoulders fell and through his breast did perse.
Downe fell he sounding, and the king thus playd with his misease:
‘O Socus, you that make by birth the two Hippasides,
Now may your house and you perceive death can outflie the flier.
Ah wretch, thou canst not scape my vowes. Old Hippasus thy sire
Nor thy well-honord mother's hands, in both which lies thy worth,
Shall close thy wretched eyes in death, but Vultures dig them forth
And hide them with their darksome wings. But when Ulysses dies,
Divinest Greeks shall tombe my corse with all their obsequies.’
Now from his bodie and his shield the violent lance he drew
That Princely Socus had infixt; which drawne, a crimson dew
Fell from his bosome on the earth: the wound did dare him sore
And when the furious Troyans saw Ulysses' forced gore,
(Encouraging themselves in grosse) all his destruction vowd.
Then he retir'd and summond aide: thrise showted he allowd
(As did denote a man ingag'd): thrise Menelaus' eare
Observ'd his aid-suggesting voice and, Ajax being neare,
He told him of Ulysses' showts, as if he were enclosd
From all assistance, and advisd their aids might be disposd
Against the Ring that circled him—lest, charg'd with troopes alone,
(Though valiant) he might be opprest whom Greece so built upon.
He led, and Ajax seconded: they found their Jove-lov'd king
Circled with foes. As when a den of bloodie Lucerns cling
About a goodly palmed Hart hurt with a hunter's bow,
Whose scape his nimble feet inforce, whilst his warme blood doth flow
And his light knees have power to move, but (maistred of his wound,
Embost within a shadie hill) the Lucerns charge him round
And teare his flesh, when instantly fortune sends in the powres
Of some sterne Lion, with whose sight they flie and he devours:
So charg'd the Ilians Ithacus, many and mightie men.
But then made Menelaus in, and horrid Ajax then,
Bearing a target like a tower. Close was his violent stand,
And everie way the foe disperst, when, by the royall hand,
Kind Menelaus led away the hurt Laertes' sonne
Till his faire squire had brought his horse. Victorious Telamon
Still plied the foe and put to sword a young Priamides
Doryclus, Priam's bastard sonne. Then did his lance impresse
Pandocus and strong Pyrasus, Lysander and Pylartes.
As when a torrent from the hils, swolne with Saturnian showres,
Fals on the fields, beares blasted Oakes and witherd rosine flowres,
Loose weeds and all dispersed filth into the Ocean's force:
So matchlesse Ajax beat the field and slaughterd men and horse,
Yet had not Hector heard of this, who fought on the left wing
Of all the host, neare those sweet herbs Scamander's flood doth spring,
Where many foreheads trode the ground and where the skirmish burnd
Neare Nestor and king Idomen; where Hector overturnd
The Grecian squadrons, authoring high service with his lance
And skilfull manadge of his horse. Nor yet the discrepance
He made in death betwixt the hosts had made the Greeks retire
If faire-haird Helen's second spouse had not represt the fire
Of bold Machaon's fortitude, who with a three-forkt head
In his right shoulder wounded him: then had the Grecians dread
Lest, in his strength declin'd, the foe should slaughter their hurt friend.
Then Crete's king urg'd Neleides his chariot to ascend,
And, getting neare him, take him in and beare him to their tents:—
‘A Surgeon is to be preferd, with physicke ornaments,
Before a multitude: his life gives hurt lives native bounds
With sweet inspersion of fit balmes and perfect search of wounds.’
Thus spake the royall Idomen. Neleides obeyd
And to his chariot presently the wounded Greeke convaid,
The sonne of Æsculapius, the great Phisition.
To fleet they flew. Cebriones perceiv'd the slaughter done
By Ajax on the other troopes, and spake to Hector thus:
‘Whiles we encounter Grecians here, sterne Telamonius
Is yonder raging, turning up in heapes our horse and men.
I know him by his spacious shield. Let us turne chariot then
Where both of horse and foote the fight most hotely is proposde
In mutuall slaughters. Harke, their throats from cries are never closd.’
This said, with his shrill scourge he strooke the horse, that fast ensude,
Stung with his lashes, tossing shields and carkasses imbrude.
The chariot-tree was drownd in blood and th' arches by the seate
Disperpled from the horses' hoves and from the wheele-bands' beate.
Great Hector long'd to breake the rankes and startle their close fight,
Who horribly amaz'd the Greeks and plyed their suddaine fright
With busie weapons, ever wingd—his lance, sword, weightie stones.
Yet charg'd he other Leaders' bands, not dreadfull Telamon's,
With whom he wisely shund foule blowes. But Jove (that weighs above
All humane pow'rs) to Ajax' breast divine repressions drove
And made him shun who shund himselfe: he ceast from fight amaz'd,
Cast on his backe his seaven-fold shield and round about him gaz'd
Like one turnd wilde, lookt on himselfe in his distract retreate:
Knee before knee did scarcely move. As when from heards of Neate
Whole threaves of Bores and mungrils chace a Lion skulking neare,
Loth he should taint the wel-prisd fat of any stall-fed steere,
Consuming all the night in watch; he (greedie of his prey)
Oft thrusting on is oft thrust off, so thicke the Javelins play
On his bold charges and so hote the burning firebrands shine,
Which he (though horrible) abhors about his glowing eyne
And early his great heart retires: so Ajax from the foe,
For feare their fleet should be inflam'd, gainst his swolne heart did go.
As when a dull mill Asse comes neare a goodly field of corne,
Kept from the birds by children's cries, the boyes are overborne
By his insensible approach and simply he will eate,
About whom many wands are broke, and still the children beate,
And still the selfe-providing Asse doth with their weaknesse beare,
Not stirring till his panch be full, and scarcely then will stere:
So the huge sonne of Telamon amongst the Troyans far'd,
Bore showers of darts upon his shield, yet scornd to flie as skar'd;
And so kept softlie on his way, nor would he mend his pace
For all their violent pursuits, that still did arme the chace
With singing lances. But at last, when their Cur-like presumes,
More urg'd, the more forborne, his spirits did rarifie their fumes
And he revokt his active strength, turnd head and did repell
The horse troopes that were new made in; twixt whom the fight grew fell
And by degrees he stole retreate, yet with such puissant stay
That none could passe him to the fleet. In both the armies' sway
He stood and from strong hands receiv'd sharpe Javelins on his shield,
Where many stucke, throwne on before; many fell short in field
Ere the white bodie they could reach and stucke, as telling how
They purposd to have pierc't his flesh. His perill pierced now
The eyes of Prince Eurypylus, Euæmon's famous sonne,
Who came close on and with his dart strooke Duke Apisaon,
Whose surname was Phausiades, even to the concrete blood
That makes the liver: on the earth out gusht his vitall flood.
Eurypylus made in and easd his shoulders of his armes;
Which Paris seeing, he drew his bow and wreakt in part the harmes
Of his good friend Phausiades: his arrow he let flie
That smote Eurypylus and brake in his attainted thie.
Then tooke he troope to shun blacke death, and to the flyers cride:
‘Princes, and Leaders of the Greeks, stand and repulse the tide
Of this our honour-wracking chace. Ajax is drownd in darts,
I feare past scape. Turne, honord friends, helpe out his ventrous parts.’
Thus spake the wounded Greeke: the sound cast on their backs their shields
And raisd their darts; to whose reliefe Ajax his person wields.
Then stood he firmely with his friends, retiring their retire.
And thus both hosts indifferent joynd; the fight grew hote as fire.
Now had Neleides' sweating steeds brought him and his hurt friend
Amongst their Fleet. Æacides, that wishly did intend
(Standing asterne his tall-neckt ship) how deepe the skirmish drew
Amongst the Greeks and with what ruth the insecution grew,
Saw Nestor bring Machaon hurt, and from within did call
His friend Patroclus, who like Mars in forme celestiall
Came forth with first sound of his voice (first spring of his decay)
And askt his Princely friend's desire. ‘Deare friend,’ said he, ‘this day
I doubt not will enforce the Greeks to swarme about my knees:
I see unsufferd Need imployd in their extremities.
Go, sweet Patroclus, and enquire of old Neleides
Whom he brought wounded from the fight: by his backe parts I guesse
It is Machaon, but his face I could not well descrie,
They past me in such earnest speed.’ Patroclus presently
Obeyd his friend and ran to know. They now descended were
And Nestor's squire Eurymedon the horses did ungeare.
Themselves stood neare th' extremest shore, to let the gentle aire
Drie up their sweat; then to the tent, where Hecamed the faire
Set chaires and for the wounded Prince a potion did prepare.
This Hecamed, by war's hard fate, fell to old Nestor's share
When Thetis' sonne sackt Tenedos. She was the Princely seed
Of worthie king Arsinous, and by the Greeks decreed
The prize of Nestor, since all men in counsell he surpast.
First, a faire table she apposd of which the feet were grac't
With blewish mettall mixt with blacke; and on the same she put
A brasse fruit dish, in which she serv'd a holsome Onion cut
For pittance to the potion, and honey newly wrought,
And bread, the fruite of sacred meale. Then to the boord she brought
A right faire cup, with gold studs driven, which Nestor did transfer
From Pylos; on whose swelling sides foure handles fixed were
And upon everie handle sate a paire of doves of gold,
Some billing and some pecking meate. Two gilt feet did uphold
The antique body, and withall, so weightie was the cup
That, being proposd brim full of wine, one scarse could lift it up:
Yet Nestor drunke in it with ease, spite of his yeares' respect.
In this the Goddesse-like faire Dame a potion did confect
With good old wine of Pramnius, and scrap't into the wine
Cheese made of Goate's milke, and on it sperst flow'r exceeding fine.
In this sort for the wounded Lord the potion she prepar'd
And bad him drinke: for companie, with him old Nestor shar'd.
Thus physically quencht they thirst, and then their spirits reviv'd
With pleasant conference. And now Patroclus, being arriv'd,
Made stay at th' entrie of the tent. Old Nestor, seeing it,
Rose and receiv'd him by the hand and faine would have him sit.
He set that courtesie aside, excusing it with hast,
Since his much-to-be-reverenc't friend sent him to know who past
(Wounded with him in chariot) so swiftly through the shore—
‘Whom now,’ said he, ‘I see and know, and now can stay no more.
You know, good father, our great friend is apt to take offence,
Whose fierie temper will inflame sometimes with innocence.’
He answerd: ‘When will Peleus’ sonne some royall pittie show
On his thus wounded contrimen? Ah, is he yet to know
How much affliction tires our host—how our especiall aide
(Tainted with lances) at their tents are miserably laide?
Ulysses, Diomed, our King, Eurypylus, Machaon
All hurt, and all our worthiest friends; yet no compassion
Can supple thy friend's friendlesse breast. Doth he reserve his eye
Till our fleet burne and we our selves one after other die?
Alas, my forces are not now as in my yonger life!
Oh would to God I had that strength I used in the strife
Betwixt us and the Elians, for Oxen to be driven,
When Itymoneus' loftie soule was by my valour given
As sacrifice to destinie, Hypirochus' strong sonne
That dwelt in Elis and fought first in our contention.
We forrag'd (as proclaimed foes) a wondrous wealthie boote
And he, in rescue of his Herds, fell breathlesse at my foote.
All the Dorpe Bores with terror fled: our prey was rich and great,
Twise five and twentie flocks of sheepe, as many herds of neate,
As many goates and nastie swine, a hundred fiftie mares
All sorrell, most with sucking foales; and these soone-monied wares
We drave into Neleius' towne, faire Pylos, all by night.
My father's heart was glad to see so much good fortune quite
The forward mind of his young sonne, that usde my youth in deeds
And would not smother it in moods. Now drew the Sun's bright steeds
Light from the hils: our heralds now accited all that were
Endamag'd by the Elians: our Princes did appeare:
Our boote was parted: many men th' Epeians much did owe,
That (being our neighbors) they did spoile: afflictions did so flow
On us poore Pylians, though but few. In brake great Hercules
To our sad confines of late yeares, and wholly did suppresse
Our haplesse Princes. Twice sixe sonnes renownd Neleius bred;
Onely my selfe am left of all, the rest subdude and dead.
And this was it that made so proud the base Epeian bands
On their neare neighbors, being opprest, to lay injurious hands.
A heard of Oxen for himselfe, a mightie flocke of sheepe,
My Syre selected, and made choice of shepheards for their keep;
And from the generall spoyle he culd three hundred of the best:
The Elians ought him infinite, most plagu'd of all the rest.
Foure wager-winning horse he lost and chariots intervented,
Being led to an appointed race. The prize that was presented
Was a religious threefoote urne. Augeas was the king
That did detaine them and dismist their keeper sorrowing
For his lov'd charge, lost with foule words. Then both for words and deeds
My Sire, being worthily incenst, thus justly he proceeds
To satisfaction, in first choice of all our wealthie prize;
And as he shar'd much, much he left his subjects to suffise,
That none might be opprest with power or want his portion due.
Thus for the publike good we shar'd. Then we to temples drue
Our complete citie, and to heaven we thankfull rights did burne
For our rich conquest. The third day ensuing our returne
The Elians flew on us in heapes: their generall Leaders were
The two Moliones, two boyes untrained in the feare
Of horrid warre or use of strength. A certaine citie shines
Upon a loftie Prominent and in th' extreme confines
Of sandie Pylos, seated where Alpheus' flood doth run
And cald Thryessa: this they sieg'd and gladly would have wun;
But (having past through all our fields) Minerva as our spie
Fell from Olympus in the night and arm'd us instantly.
Nor mustred she unwilling men nor unprepar'd for force.
My Sire yet would not let me arme, but hid away my horse,
Esteeming me no souldier yet: yet shin'd I nothing lesse
Amongst our Gallants, though on foote: Minerva's mightinesse
Led me to fight and made me beare a souldier's worthie name.
There is a floud fals into sea and his crookt course doth frame
Close to Arena, and is cald bright Minyæus' streame.
There made we halt, and there the Sun cast many a glorious beame
On our bright armours: horse and foote insea'd together there;
Then marcht we on. By fierie noone we saw the sacred cleare
Of great Alpheus, where to Jove we did faire sacrifice,
And to the azure God that rules the under-liquid skies
We offerd up a solemne Bull, a bull t' Alpheus' name,
And to the blew-eyd maid we burnd a heifer never tame.
Now was it night: we supt and slept about the flood in armes.
The foe laide hard siege to our towne and shooke it with alarmes;
But for prevention of their splenes a mightie worke of warre
Appeard behind them. For, as soone as Phœbus' fierie Carre
Cast night's foule darknes from his wheeles, (invoking reverend Jove
And the unconquerd maide—his birth) we did th' event approve
And gave them battell. First of all, I slue (the armie saw)
The mightie souldier Mulius, Augeias' sonne in law,
And spoyld him of his one-hov'd horse: his eldest daughter was
Bright Agamede that for skill in simples did surpasse
And knew as many kind of drugs as earth's brode center bred.
Him charg'd I with my brasse-arm'd lance: the dust receiv'd him dead.
I (leaping to his chariot) amongst the formost prest,
And the great-hearted Elians fled frighted, seeing their best
And lofti'st souldier taken downe, the Generall of their horse.
I follow'd like a blacke whirlwind and did for prize enforce
Full fiftie chariots, everie one furnisht with two arm'd men,
Who eate the earth, slaine with my lance. And I had slaughterd then
The two young boyes, Moliones, if their world-circling Sire,
Great Neptune, had not saft their lives and covered their retire
With unpierc't clouds. Then Jove bestow'd a haughtie victorie
Upon us Pylians. For so long we did the chase apply,
Slaughtring and making spoile of armes, till sweet Buprasius' soile,
Alesius and Olenia were fam'd with our recoile.
For there Minerva turnd our power; and there the last I slew,
As when our battell joyn'd, the first: the Pylians then withdrew
To Pylos from Buprasius. Of all the Immortals then,
They most thankt Jove for victorie, Nestor the most of men.
Such was I ever, if I were employd with other Peeres,
And I had honour of my youth, which dies not in my yeares.
But Great Achilles onely joyes habilitie of act
In his brave Prime and doth not daine t' impart it where tis lackt.
No doubt he will extremely mourne, long after, that blacke howre
Wherein our ruine shall be wrought and rue his ruthlesse powre.
O friend, my memorie revives the charge Menœtius gave
Thy towardnesse when thou setst forth to keepe out of the grave
Our wounded honour. I my selfe and wise Ulysses were
Within the roome, where everie word then spoken we did heare;
For we were come to Peleus' Court as we did mustering passe
Through rich Achaia where thy Sire, renownd Menœtius, was,
Thy selfe and great Æacides—when Peleus the King
To thunder-loving Jove did burne an Oxe for offering
In his Court-yard: a cup of gold crownd with red wine he held
On th' holy Incensorie pour'd. You, when the Oxe was feld,
Were dressing his divided lims: we in the Portall stood.
Achilles seeing us come so neare, his honorable blood
Was strooke with a respective shame, rose, tooke us by the hands,
Brought us both in and made us sit and usde his kind commands
For seemely hospitable rights, which quickly were apposd.
Then (after needfulnesse of foode) I first of all disclosd
The royall cause of our repaire, mov'd you and your great friend
To consort our renown'd designes: both straight did condescend:
Your fathers knew it, gave consent and grave instruction
To both your valours. Peleus charg'd his most unequald sonne
To governe his victorious strength and shine past all the rest
In honour as in meere maine force. Then were thy partings blest
With deare advices from thy Sire. “My loved sonne,” said he,
“Achilles by his grace of birth superiour is to thee
And for his force more excellent, yet thou more ripe in yeares.
Then with sound counsels (age's fruits) imploy his honord eares;
Command and overrule his moodes; his nature will obay
In any charge discreetly given that doth his good assay.”
Thus charg'd thy Sire, which thou forgetst. Yet now at last approve
(With forced reference of these) th' attraction of his love.
Who knowes if sacred influence may blesse thy good intent
And enter with thy gracious words even to his full consent?
The admonition of a friend is sweet and vehement.
If any Oracle he shun or if his mother Queene
Hath brought him some instinct from Jove that fortifies his spleene,
Let him resigne command to thee of all his Myrmidons
And yeeld by that meanes some repulse to our confusions,
Adorning thee in his bright armes, that his resembled forme
May haply make thee thought himselfe and calme this hostile storme—
That so a little we may ease our overcharged hands,
Draw some breath, not expire it all. The foe but faintly stands
Beneath his labours, and your charge, being fierce and freshly given,
They easly from our tents and fleet may to their walls be driven.’
This mov'd the good Patroclus' mind, who made his utmost haste
T' informe his friend; and as the fleet of Ithacus he past
(At which their markets were disposd, counsels and martiall courts
And where to th' Altars of the Gods they made divine resorts)
He met renownd Eurypylus, Euæmon's noble sonne,
Halting, his thigh hurt with a shaft; the liquid sweate did run
Downe from his shoulders and his browes, and from his raging wound
Forth flow'd his melancholy blood, yet still his mind was sound.
His sight in kinde Patroclus' breast to sacred pittie turnd
And (nothing more immartiall for true ruth) thus he mournd:
‘Ah wretched progenie of Greece, Princes, dejected kings,
Was it your fates to nourish beasts and serve the outcast wings
Of savage Vultures here in Troy? Tell me, Euæmon's fame,
Do yet the Greeks withstand his force whom yet no force can tame?
Or are they hopelesse throwne to death by his resistlesse lance?’
‘Divine Patroclus,’ he replide, ‘no more can Greece advance
Defensive weapons, but to fleet they headlong must retire,
For those that to this howre have held our fleet from hostile fire
And are the bulwarks of our host lie wounded at their tents,
And Troy's unvanquishable powre still as it toiles augments.
But take me to thy blacke-sternd ship, save me, and from my thie
Cut out this arrow and the blood that is ingor'd and drie
Wash with warme water from the wound: then gentle salves apply,
Which thou knowest best—thy Princely friend hath taught thee surgerie,
Whom (of all Centaures the most just) Chiron did institute.
Thus to thy honorable hands my ease I prosecute,
Since our Physitians cannot helpe: Machaon at his tent
Needs a Physitian himselfe, being Leach and patient,
And Podalirius in the field the sharpe conflict sustaines.’
Strong Menœtiades replide: ‘How shall I ease thy paines?
What shall we do, Eurypylus? I am to use all haste
To signifie to Thetis' sonne occurrents that have past,
At Nestor's honorable suite. But be that worke atchiev'd,
When this is done, I will not leave thy torments unreliev'd.’
This said, athwart his backe he cast, beneath his breast, his arme
And nobly helpt him to his tent. His servants, seeing his harme,
Dispread Ox-hides upon the earth whereon Machaon lay.
Patroclus cut out the sharpe shaft and clearely washt away
With luke-warme water the blacke blood: then twixt his hands he brusde
A sharpe and mitigatorie roote, which, when he had infusde
Into the greene well-cleansed wound, the paines he felt before
Were well, and, instantly allaid, the wound did bleed no more.
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