Classic Poem

Not wine, nor feasts, could lay their soft chaines on old Nestor's eare
To this high Clamor; who requir'd Machaon's thoughts to beare
His care in part about the cause: ‘For me thinke still,’ said he
‘The crie increases. I must needs the watch towre mount to see
Which way the flood of warre doth drive. Still drinke thou wine, and eate
Till faire-hair'd Hecamed hath given a little water heate,
To cleanse the quitture from thy wound.’ This said, the goodly shield
Of war-like Thrasymed, his sonne (who had his owne in field),
He tooke, snatcht up a mightie lance, and so stept forth to view
Cause of that Clamor. Instantly, th' unworthy cause he knew,
The Grecians wholly put in rout, the Troyans rowting still,
Close at the Greeks' backs, their wall rac't. The old man mournd this ill.
And as when, with unwieldie waves, the great Sea forefeeles winds
That both waies murmure, and no way her certaine current finds,
But pants and swels confusedly, here goes, and there will stay,
Till on it aire casts one firme winde, and then it rolles away:
So stood old Nestor in debate, two thoughts at once on wing
In his discourse—if first to take direct course to the King,
Or to the multitude in fight. At last he did conclude
To visite Agamemnon first. Meane time both hosts imbrewd
Their steele in one another's blood, nought wrought their healths but harmes,
Swords, huge stones, double-headed darts still thumping on their armes.
And now the Jove-kept Kings, whose wounds were yet in cure, did meet
Old Nestor, Diomed, Ithacus, and Atreus' sonne, from fleet
Bent for the fight, which was farre off, the ships being drawne to shore
On heapes at first, till all theire sterns a wall was raisd before;
Which (though not great) it yet suffisd to hide them, though their men
Were something streighted—for whose scope, in forme of battel then,
They drew them through the spacious shore one by another still,
Till all the bosome of the Strand their sable bulks did fill,
Even till they tooke up all the space twixt both the Promontories.
These kings (like Nestor), in desire to know for what those cries
Became so violent, came along (all leaning on their darts)
To see, though not of powre to fight, sad and suspicious hearts
Distempring them, and (meeting now Nestor) the king in feare
Cried out: ‘O Nestor, our renowne, why shewes they presence here,
The harmefull fight abandoned? Now Hector will make good
The threatning vow he made (I feare) that till he had our blood,
And fir'd our fleet, he never more would turne to Ilion.
Nor is it long, I see, before his whole will will be done.
O Gods, I now see all the Greeks put on Achilles' ire
Against my honour—no meane left, to keepe our fleet from fire.’
He answerd: ‘Tis an evident truth, not Jove himselfe can now
(With all the thunder in his hands) prevent our overthrow.
The wall we thought invincible, and trusted more than Jove,
Is scal'd, rac't, enterd, and our powres (driven up), past breathing, prove
A most inevitable fight: both slaughters so commixt,
That for your life you cannot put your diligent'st thought betwixt
The Greeks and Troyans, and as close their throates cleave to the skie.
Consult we then (if that will serve). For fight, advise not I;
It fits not wounded men to fight.’ Atrides answerd him:
‘If such a wall, as cost the Greeks so many a tired lim,
And such a dike be past and rac't, that (as your selfe said well)
We all esteemd invicible, and would past doubt repell
The world from both our fleete and us, it doth directly show,
That here Jove vowes our shames and deaths. I evermore did know
His hand from ours, when he helpt us: and now I see as cleare
That (like the blessed Gods) he holds our hated enemies deare,
Supports their armes, and pinnions ours. Conclude then, tis in vaine
To strive with him. Our ships drawne up, now let us lanch againe
And keepe at anchor, till calme Night; that then (perhaps) our foes
May calme their stormes, and in that time our scape we may dispose.
It is not any shame to flie from ill, although by night:
Knowne ill, he better does that flies than he it takes in fight.’
Ulysses frown'd on him, and said: ‘Accurst, why talk'st thou thus?
Would thou hadst led some barbarous host, and not commanded us
Whom Jove made souldiers from our youth, that age might scorne to flie
From any charge it undertakes, and every dazeled eye
The honord hand of warre might close. Thus wouldst thou leave this towne
For which our many miseries felt entitle it our owne?
Peace, lest some other Greeke give eare, and heare a sentence such
As no man's pallate should prophane—at least, that knew how much
His own right weigh'd, and being a Prince, and such a Prince as beares
Rule of so many Greeks as thou. This counsell lothes mine eares—
Let others toyle in fight and cries, and we so light of heeles
Upon their verie noise and grones to hoise away our keeles!
Thus we should fit the wish of Troy, that being something neare
The victorie we give it cleare. And we were sure to beare
A slaughter to the utmost man, for no man will sustaine
A stroke, the fleete gone, but at that looke still, and wish him slaine.
And therefore, Prince of men, be sure thy censure is unfit.’
‘O Ithacus,’ replied the King, ‘thy bitter termes have smit
My heart in sunder. At no hand, gainst any Prince's will
Do I command this. Would to God that any man of skill
To give a better counsell would, or old, or younger man:
My voice should gladly go with his.’ Then Diomed began:
‘The man not farre is, nor shall aske much labour to bring in,
That willingly would speake his thoughts, if, spoken, they might win
Fit eare, and suffer no empaire that I discover them,
Being yongest of you—since my Sire, that heir'd a Diadem,
May make my speech to Diadems decent enough, though he
Lies in his sepulcher at Thebes. I bost this pedigree.
Portheus three famous sonnes begot, that in high Calydon
And Pleuron kept, with state of kings, their habitation.
Agrius, Melas and the third, the horseman OEneus,
My father's father, that exceld in actions generous
The other two. But these kept home, my father being driven
With wandring and adventrous spirits, for so the king of heaven
And th' other Gods set downe their willes, and he to Argos came,
Where he begun the world and dwelt, there marying a dame,
One of Adrastus' femall race. He kept a royall house,
For he had great demeanes, good land, and (being industrious)
He planted many orchard grounds about his house, and bred
Great store of sheepe. Besides all this, he was well qualited
And past all Argives for his speare. And these digressive things
Are such as you may well endure, since (being deriv'd from kings,
And kings not poore, nor vertulesse) you cannot hold me base,
Nor scorne my words, which oft (though true) in meane men meet disgrace.
How ever, they are these in short. Let us be seene at fight,
And yeeld to strong Necessitie, though wounded, that our sight
May set those men on that of late have to Achilles' spleene
Bene too indulgent, and left blowes: but be we onely seene,
Not come within the reach of darts, lest wound on wound we lay—
(Which reverend Nestor's speech implide) and so farre him obay.’
This counsell gladly all observ'd, went on, Atrides led.
Nor Neptune this advantage lost, but closely followed,
And like an aged man appear'd t' Atrides, whose right hand
He seisd, and said: ‘Atrides, this doth passing fitly stand
With sterne Achilles' wreakfull spirit, that he can stand a sterne
His ship, and both in flight and death the Grecian bane discerne,
Since not in his breast glowes one sparke of any humane mind.
But be that his owne bane: let God by that losse make him find
How vile a thing he is. For know, the blest Gods have not given
Thee ever over; but perhaps the Troyans may from heaven
Receive that justice. Nay, tis sure, and thou shalt see their fals,
Your fleete soone freed, and for fights here they glad to take their wals.’
This said, he made knowne who he was, and parted with a crie
As if ten thousand men had joynd in battaile then, so hie
His throate flew through the host: and so this great earth-shaking God
Chear'd up the Greeke hearts that they wisht their paines no period.
Saturnia from Olympus top saw her great brother there
And her great husband's brother too, exciting every where
The glorious spirits of the Greeks; which, as she joy'd to see,
So (on the fountfull Ida's top) Jove's sight did disagree
With her contentment, since she fear'd, that his hand would descend
And checke the sea-God's practises. And this she did contend
How to prevent, which thus seem'd best—to decke her curiously
And visite the Idalian hill, that so the Lightner's eye
She might enamour with her lookes and his high temples steepe
(Even to his wisedome) in the kind and golden juyce of sleepe.
So tooke she chamber, which her sonne, the God of ferrary,
With firme doores made, being joyned close and with a privie key,
That no God could command but Jove; where (enterd) she made fast
The shining gates, and then upon her lovely bodie cast
Ambrosia, that first made it cleare, and after laid on it
An odorous, rich and sacred oyle, that was so wondrous sweet
That, ever, when it was but toucht, it sweetn'd heaven and earth.
Her body being cleansd with this, her Tresses she let forth,
And comb'd (her combe dipt in the oyle), then wrapt them up in curles:
And thus (her deathlesse head adornd) a heavenly veile she hurles
On her white shoulders, wrought by her that rules in housewiferies,
Who wove it full of antique workes, of most divine device.
And this, with goodly clasps of gold, she fastn'd to her breast:
Then with a girdle (whose rich sphere a hunderd studs imprest)
She girt her small wast. In her eares (tenderly pierc't) she wore
Pearles, great and orient: on her head, a wreath not worne before
Cast beames out like the Sunne. At last, she to her feete did tie
Faire shoes, and thus, entire attir'd, she shin'd in open skie,
Cald the faire Paphian Queene apart from th' other Gods, and said:
‘Lov'd daughter, should I aske a grace, should I or be obeyd,
Or wouldst thou crosse me, being incenst, since I crosse thee and take
The Greeks' part, thy hand helping Troy?’ She answerd: ‘That shall make
No difference in a different cause. Aske, ancient Deitie,
What most contents thee. My mind stands inclin'd as liberally
To grant it as thine owne to aske, provided that it be
A favour fit and in my powre.’ She (given deceiptfully)
Thus said: ‘Then give me those two powres with which both men and Gods
Thou vanquishest, Love and Desire. For now, the periods
Of all the many-feeding earth and the originall
Of all the gods, Oceanus, and Thetis, whom we call
Our mother, I am going to greet. They nurst me in their court
And brought me up, receiving me in most respectfull sort
From Rhea; when Jove under earth and the unfruitfull seas
Cast Saturne. These I go to see, intending to appease
Jarres growne betwixt them, having long abstaind from speech and bed—
Which jarres could I so reconcile that in their anger's stead
I could place love, and so renew their first societie,
I should their best lov'd be esteem'd and honord endlesly.’
She answerd: ‘Tis not fit nor just thy will should be denied,
Whom Jove in his embraces holds.’ This spoken, she untied
And from her odorous bosome tooke her Ceston, in whose sphere
Were all enticements to delight, all Loves, all Longings were,
Kind conference, Faire speech, whose powre the wisest doth enflame.
This she resigning to her hands, thus urg'd her by her name:
‘Receive this bridle, thus faire wrought, and put it twixt thy brests,
Where all things to be done are done; and whatsoever rests
In thy desire, returne with it.’ The great-eyd Juno smild
And put it twixt her brests. Love's Queene, thus cunningly beguild,
To Jove's court flew. Saturnia (straight stooping from heaven's height)
Pieria and Emathia (those countries of delight)
Soone reacht, and (to the snowy mounts where Thracian souldiers dwell
Approaching) past their tops untoucht. From Athos then she fell
Past all the brode sea and arriv'd in Lemnos, at the towres
Of god-like Thoas, where she met the Prince of all men's powres,
Death's brother, Sleepe, whose hand she tooke, and said: ‘Thou king of men,
Prince of the Gods too, if before thou heardst my suites, againe
Give helpefull eare, and through all times I'le offer thanks to thee.
Lay slumber on Jove's fierie eyes that I may comfort me
With his embraces. For which grace, I'le grace thee with a throne
Incorruptible, all of gold, and elegantly done
By Mulciber, to which he forg'd a footestoole for the ease
Of thy soft feete, when wine and feasts thy golden humours please.’
Sweet Sleepe replyed: ‘Saturnia, there lives not any god
(Besides Jove) but I would becalme—ay, if it were the flood
That fathers all the Deities, the great Oceanus.
But Jove we dare not come more neare than he commandeth us.
Now you command me, as you did when Jove's great-minded sonne
Alcides (having sackt the towne of stubborne Ilion)
Tooke saile from thence, when by your charge I pour'd about Jove's mind
A pleasing slumber, calming him till thou drav'st up the wind,
In all his cruelties, to sea, that set his sonne ashore
In Cous, farre from all his friends. Which (waking) vext so sore
The supreme godhead that he cast the gods about the skie
And me (above them all) he sought, whom he had utterly
Hurld from the sparkling firmament if all-gods-taming Night,
(Whom, flying, I besought for aid) had sufferd his despight
And not preserv'd me: but his wrath with my offence dispenc't,
For feare t' offend her, and so ceast, though never so incenst.
And now another such escape you wish I should prepare.’
She answerd: ‘What hath thy deepe rest to do with his deepe care?
As though Jove's love to Ilion in all degrees were such
As twas to Hercules, his sonne, and so would storme as much
For their displeasure as for his? Away, I will remove
Thy feare with giving thee the dame that thou didst ever love,
One of the faire young Graces borne, divine Pasithae.’
This started Somnus into joy, who answerd: ‘Sweare to me,
By those inviolable springs that feed the Stygian lake,
With one hand touch the nourishing earth and in the other take
The marble sea, that all the gods of the infernall state
Which circle Saturne may to us be witnesses, and rate
What thou hast vow'd—that with all truth, thou wilt bestow on me
The dame (I grant) I ever lov'd, divine Pasithae.’
She swore, as he enjoyn'd, in all, and strengthend all his joyes,
By naming all th' infernall gods surnam'd the Titanois.
The oath thus taken, both tooke way and made their quicke repaire
To Ida from the towne and Ile, all hid in liquid aire.
At Lecton first they left the sea, and there, the land they trod:
The fountfull nurse of savages with all her woods did nod
Beneath their feete: there Somnus staid, lest Jove's bright eye should see;
And yet (that he might see to Jove) he climb'd the goodliest tree
That all th' Idalian mountaine bred, and crownd her progenie.
A firre it was, that shot past aire and kist the burning skie.
There sate he hid in his darke armes, and in the shape, withall,
Of that continuall prating bird whom all the Dieties call
Chalcis; but men Cymindis name. Saturnia tript apace
Up to the top of Gargarus, and shewd her heavenly face
To Jupiter, who saw, and lov'd, and with as hote a fire
(Being curious in her tempting view) as when with first desire
(The pleasure of it being stolne) they mixt in love and bed.
And (gazing on her still) he said: ‘Saturnia, what hath bred
This haste in thee from our high court, and whither tends thy gate,
That voide of horse and chariot, fit for thy soveraigne state,
Thou lackiest here?’ Her studied fraude replyed: ‘My journey now
Leaves state and labours to do good. And where in right I owe
All kindnesse to the Sire of gods and our good mother Queene,
That nurst and kept me curiously in court (since both have bene
Long time at discord) my desire is to attone their hearts.
And therefore go I now to see those earth's extremest parts,
For whose farre-seate I spar'd my horse the skaling of this hill,
And left them at the foote of it: for they must taste their fill
Of travaile with me, that must draw my coach through earth and seas,
Whose farre-intended reach, respect and care not to displease
Thy graces made me not attempt without thy gracious leave.’
The cloud-compelling god, her guile in this sort did receive;
‘Juno, thou shalt have after leave, but, ere so farre thou stray,
Convert we our kind thoughts to love, that now doth every way
Circle with victorie my powers: nor yet with any dame
(Woman, or goddesse) did his fires my bosome so enflame
As now with thee. Not when it lov'd the parts so generous
Ixion's wife had, that brought foorth the wise Pirithous;
Nor when the lovely Danae, Acrisius' daughter, stird
My amorous powres, that Perseus bore, to all men else preferd;
Nor when the dame, that Phœnix got, surprisd me with her sight,
Who the divine-soul'd Rhadamanth and Minos brought to light;
Nor Semele, that bore to me the joy of mortall men,
The sprightly Bacchus, nor the dame that Thebes renowned then,
Alcmena, that bore Hercules; Latona, so renownd;
Queene Ceres, with the golden haire; nor thy faire eyes did wound
My entrailes to such depth as now with thirst of amorous ease.’
The cunning dame seem'd much incenst, and said: ‘What words are these,
Unsufferable Saturn's sonne? What? Here? In Ida's height?
Desir'st thou this? How fits it us? Or what if in the sight
Of any god thy will were pleasd, that he the rest might bring
To witnesse thy incontinence? T'were a dishonourd thing.
I would not shew my face in heaven, and rise from such a bed.
But, if love be so deare to thee, thou hast a chamber sted
Which Vulcan purposely contriv'd with all fit secrecie:
There sleepe at pleasure.’ He replyed: ‘I feare not if the eye
Of either god or man observe: so thicke a cloude of gold
I'le cast about us that the Sunne (who furthest can behold)
Shall never find us.’ This resolv'd, into his kind embrace
He tooke his wife. Beneath them both faire Tellus strewd the place
With fresh-sprung herbes, so soft and thicke that up aloft it bore
Their heavenly bodies: with his leaves did deawy Lotus store
Th' Elysian mountaine; Saffron flowres and Hyacinths helpt make
The sacred bed; and there they slept. When sodainly there brake
A golden vapour out of aire, whence shining dewes did fall,
In which they wrapt them close, and slept till Jove was tam'd withall.
Meane space flew Somnus to the ships, found Neptune out, and said:
‘Now chearfully assist the Greeks and give them glorious head—
At least a little, while Jove sleepes, of whom through ever limme
I pour'd darke sleepe; Saturnia's love hath so illuded him.’
This newes made Neptune more secure in giving Grecians heart,
And through the first fights thus he stird the men of most desert:
‘Yet, Grecians, shall we put our ships and conquest in the hands
Of Priam's Hector by our sloth? He thinks so, and commands
With pride according, all because Achilles keepes away.
Alas, as we were nought but him! We little need to stay
On his assistance, if we would our owne strengths call to field
And mutually maintaine repulse. Come on then, all men yeeld
To what I order; we that beare best armes in all our host,
Whose heads sustaine the brightest helms, whose hands are bristl'd most
With longest lances, let us on. But stay, I'le leade you all.
Nor thinke I but great Hector's spirits will suffer some apall,
Though they be never so inspir'd. The ablest of us then,
That on our shoulders worst shields beare, exchange with worser men
That fight with better.’ This proposd, all heard it, and obeyd.
The kings (even those that sufferd wounds, Ulysses, Diomed
And Agamemnon) helpt t' instruct the complete army thus—
To good, gave good armes; worse, to worse, yet none were mutinous.
Thus (arm'd with order) forth they flew: the great Earth-shaker led,
A long sword in his sinowy hand, which when he brandished,
It lighten'd still: there was no law for him and it; poore men
Must quake before them. These thus man'd, illustrous Hector then
His hoast brought up. The blew-hair'd god and he stretcht through the prease
A greivous fight—when to the ships and tents of Greece the seas
Brake loose and rag'd. But when they joynd, the dreadfull Clamor rose
To such a height as not the sea, when up the North-spirit blowes
Her raging billowes, bellowes so against the beaten shore—
Nor such a rustling keeps a fire, driven with violent blore,
Through woods that grow against a hill—nor so the fervent strokes
Of almost-bursting winds resound against a grove of Okes:
As did the clamor of these hoasts, when both the battels closd.
Of all which, noble Hector first at Ajax' breast disposd
His javelin, since so right on him the great-soul'd souldier bore;
Nor mist it, but the bawdricks both that his brode bosome wore
To hang his shield and sword it strooke; both which his flesh preserv'd.
Hector (disdaining that his lance had thus as good as swerv'd)
Trode to his strength; but going off, great Ajax with a stone
(One of the many props for ships that there lay trampl'd on)
Strooke his brode breast above his shield, just underneath his throte,
And shooke him peecemeale—when the stone sprung backe againe and smote
Earth, like a whirlewind gathering dust with whirring fiercely round,
For fervour of his unspent strength, in setling on the ground.
And, as when Jove's bolt by the rootes rends from the earth an Oke,
His sulphure casting with the blow a strong, unsavoury smoke,
And on the falne plant none dare looke but with amazed eyes,
(Jove's thunder being no laughing game), so bowd strong Hector's thyes,
And so with tost-up heeles he fell: away his lance he flung,
His round shield followd, then his helme, and out his armour rung.
The Greeks then showted and ran in, and hop't to hale him off,
And therefore powr'd on darts in stormes, to keepe his aide aloofe.
But none could hurt the people's guide, nor stirre him from his ground.
Sarpedon, prince of Lycia, and Glaucus so renownd,
Divine Agenor, Venus' sonne, and wise Polydamas
Rusht to his rescue, and the rest; no one neglective was
Of Hector's safetie. All their shields they coucht about him close,
Raisd him from earth, and (giving him in their kind armes repose)
From off the labour caried him to his rich chariot,
And bore him mourning towards Troy. But when the flood they got
Of gulphy Xanthus, that was got by deathlesse Jupiter,
There tooke they him from chariot, and all besprinkled there
His temples with the streame. He breath'd, lookt up, assaid to rise,
And on his knees staid, spitting blood: againe then closd his eyes,
And backe againe his body fell; the maine blow had not done
Yet with his spirit. When the Greeks saw worthy Hector gone,
Then thought they of their worke, then charg'd with much more chere the foe,
And then (farre first) Oiliades began the overthrow.
He darted Satnius, Enops' sonne, whom famous Nais bore
(As she was keeping Enops' flocks) on Satnius' river's shore,
And strooke him in his bellie's rimme, who upwards fell and raisd
A mightie skirmish with his fall. And then Panthœdes seisd
Prothenor Areilycides with his revend'gfull speare
On his right shoulder, strooke it through, and laid him breathlesse there.
For which he insolently bragd, and cryed out: ‘Not a dart
From great-soul'd Panthus' sonne, I thinke, shall ever vainlier part,
But some Greeke bosome it shall take, and make him give his ghost.’
This bragge the Grecians stomackt much, but Telamonius most,
Who stood most neare Prothenor's fall: and out he sent a lance,
Which Panthus' sonne (declining) scap't, yet tooke it to sad chance
Archelochus, Antenor's sonne, whom heaven did destinate
To that sterne end; twixt necke and head the javelin wrought his fate,
And ran in at the upper joint of all the back's long bone,
Cut both the nerves and such a lode of strength laid Ajax on
As, that small part he seisd outwaid all th' under lims, and strooke
His heeles up so that head and face the earth's possession tooke,
When all the low parts sprung in air. And thus did Ajax quit
Panthœdes' Brave: ‘Now, Panthus' sonne, let thy prophetique wit
Consider and disclose a truth, if this man do not wey
Even with Prothenor. I conceive no one of you will say
That either he was base himselfe, or sprung of any base.
Antenor's brother, or his sonne, he should be by his face;
One of his race, past question, his likenesse shewes he is.’
This spake he, knowing it well enough. The Troyans storm'd at this,
And then slue Acamas (to save his brother, yet ingag'd),
Bœotius, dragging him to spoile; and thus the Greeks enrag'd:
‘O Greeks, even borne to beare our darts, yet ever breathing threats,
Not alwayes under teares and toyles ye see our fortune sweats,
But sometimes you drop under death. See now your quicke among
Our dead, intranc't with my weake lance, to prove I have ere long
Reveng'd my brother. Tis the wish of every honest man
His brother slaine in Mars his field may rest wreakt in his Phane.’
This stird fresh envie in the Greeks, but urg'd Peneleus most,
Who hurld his lance at Acamas; he scap't; nor yet it lost
The force he gave it, for it found the flocke-rich Phorbas' sonne,
Ilioneus, whose deare Sire (past all in Ilion)
Was lov'd of Hermes and enricht, and to him onely bore
His mother this now slaughterd man. The dart did undergore
His eye-lid, by his eye's deare rootes, and out the apple fell,
The eye pierc't through: nor could the nerve that staies the necke repell
His strong-wing'd lance, but necke and all gave way, and downe he dropt.
Peneleus then unsheath'd his sword, and from the shoulders chopt
His lucklesse head, which downe he threw, the helme still sticking on
And still the lance fixt in his eye; which not to see alone
Contented him, but up againe he snatcht and shewd it all
With this sterne Brave: ‘Ilians, relate brave Ilioneus’ fall
To his kind parents, that their roofes their teares may overrunne;
For so the house of Promachus, and Alegenor's sonne,
Must with his wive's eyes overflow, she never seeing more
Her deare Lord, though we tell his death when to our native shore
We bring from ruin'd Troy our fleete, and men so long forgone.’
This said, and seene, pale Feare possest all those of Ilion,
And ev'ry man cast round his eye to see where Death was not,
That he might flie him. Let not then his grac't hand be forgot
(O Muses you that dwell in heaven) that first embrude the field
With Troyan spoile, when Neptune thus had made their irons yeeld.
First Ajax Telamonius the Mysian Captaine slew,
Great Hyrtius Gyrtiades. Antilochus o'rethrew
Phalces and Mermer, to their spoyle. Meriones gave end
To Morys and Hippotion. Teucer to Fate did send
Prothoon and Periphetes. Atrides' Javelin chac't
Duke Hyperenor, wounding him in that part that is plac't
Betwixt the short ribs and the bones that to the triple gut
Have pertinence. The Javelin's head did out his entrailes cut,
His forc't soule breaking through the wound: night's black hand closde his eies.
Then Ajax, great Oileus' sonne, had divers victories:
For when Saturnius sufferd flight, of all the Grecian race
Not one with swiftnesse of his feete could so enrich a chace.