Classic Poem

Then Pallas breath'd in Tydeus' sonne—to render whom supreame
To all the Greekes at all his parts she cast a hoter beame
On his high mind, his body fild with much superiour might
And made his compleate armor cast a farre more complete light.
From his bright helme and shield did burne a most unwearied fire,
Like rich Autumnus' golden lampe, whose brightnesse men admire
Past all the other host of starres when with his chearefull face
Fresh washt in loftie Ocean waves he doth the skies enchase.
To let whose glory lose no sight, still Pallas made him turne
Where tumult most exprest his powre and where the fight did burne.
An honest and a wealthie man inhabited in Troy,
Dares, the Priest of Mulciber, who two sons did enjoy,
Idæus and bold Phegeus, well seene in everie fight.
These (singl'd from their troopes and horst) assaild Minerva's knight,
Who rang'd from fight to fight on foote. All hasting mutuall charge
(And now drawne neare), first Phegeus threw a javeline swift and large,
Whose head the king's left shoulder tooke but did no harme at all.
Then rusht he out a lance at him that had no idle fall
But in his breast stucke twixt the paps and strooke him from his horse.
Which sterne sight when Idæus saw (distrustfull of his force
To save his slaughterd brother's spoile) it made him headlong leape
From his faire chariot and leave all—yet had not scap't the heape
Of heavie funerall if the God, great president of fire,
Had not (in sodaine clouds of smoke, and pittie of his Sire
To leave him utterly unheird) given safe passe to his feet.
He gone, Tydides sent the horse and chariot to the fleet.
The Troyans seeing Dares' sonnes one slaine, the other fled,
Were strooke amaz'd. The blew-eyd maide (to grace her Diomed
In giving free way to his power) made this so ruthfull fact
A fit advantage to remove the warre-God out of act,
Who rag'd so on the Ilian side. She grip't his hand and said:
‘Mars, Mars, thou ruinor of men, that in the dust hast laid
So many cities and with blood thy Godhead dost disteine,
Now shall we ceasse to shew our breasts as passionate as men
And leave the mixture of our hands, resigning Jove his right
(As rector of the Gods) to give the glorie of the fight
Where he affecteth, lest he force what we should freely yeeld?’
He held it fit, and went with her from the tumultuous field,
Who set him in an nearby seate on brode Scamander's shore.
He gone, all Troy was gone with him; the Greekes drave all before
And everie Leader slue a man. But first the king of men
Deserv'd the honor of his name and led the slaughter then
And slue a Leader, one more huge than any man he led,
Great Odius, Duke of Halizons. Quite from his chariot's head
He strooke him with a lance to earth as first he flight addrest.
It tooke his forward-turned backe and lookt out of his breast:
His huge trunk sounded, and his armes did eccho the resound.
Idomeneus to the death did noble Phæstus wound,
The sonne of Meon-Borus that from cloddie Tarne came,
Who (taking chariot) tooke his wound and tumbl'd with the same
From his attempted seate. The lance through his right shoulder strooke
And horrid darknesse strooke through him. The spoile his souldiers tooke.
Atrides Menelaus slue (as he before him fled)
Scamandrius, sonne of Strophius, that was a huntsman bred—
A skilfull huntsman, for his skill Diana's selfe did teach
And made him able with his dart infallibly to reach
All sorts of subtlest savages which many a wooddie hill
Bred for him and he much preserv'd, and all to shew his skill.
Yet not the dart-delighting Queene taught him to shun this dart,
Nor all his hitting so farre off (the mastrie of his art).
His backe receiv'd it, and he fell upon his breast withall.
His bodie's ruine and his armes so sounded in his fall
That his affrighted horse flew off and left him, like his life.
Meriones slue Phereclus, whom she that nere was wife
Yet Goddesse of good housewives held in excellent respect
For knowing all the wittie things that grace an Architect
And having pow'r to give it all the cunning use of hand.
Harmonides, his sire, built ships and made him understand
(With all the practise it requir'd) the frame of all that skill.
He built all Alexander's ships, that authord all the ill
Of all the Troyans and his owne, because he did not know
The Oracles advising Troy (for feare of overthrow)
To meddle with no sea affaire but live by tilling land.
This man Meriones surprisd and drave his deadly hand
Through his right hip. The lance's head ran through the region
About the bladder, underneath th' in-muscles and the bone.
He (sighing) bow'd his knees to death and sacrific'd to earth.
Phylides staid Pedæus' flight, Antenor's bastard birth,
Whom vertuous Theano his wife (to please her husband) kept
As tenderly as those she lov'd. Phylides neare him stept
And in the fountaine of the nerves did drench his fervent lance
At his head's backe-part, and so farre the sharpe head did advance
It cleft the Organe of his speech and th' Iron (cold as death)
He tooke betwixt his grinning teeth and gave the aire his breath.
Eurypylus, the much renowm'd and great Euæmon's sonne,
Divine Hypsenor slue, begot by stout Dolopion
And consecrate Scamander's Priest. He had a God's regard
Amongst the people. His hard flight the Grecian followed hard,
Rusht in so close that with his sword he on his shoulder laid
A blow that his arme's brawne cut off; nor there his vigor staid
But drave downe and from off his wrist it hewd his holy hand,
That gusht out blood, and downe it dropt upon the blushing sand.
Death with his purple finger shut, and violent fate, his eyes.
Thus fought these; but, distinguisht well, Tydides so implies
His furie that you could not know whose side had interest
In his free labours, Greece or Troy. But as a flood increast
By violent and sodaine showres let downe from hils, like hils
Melted in furie, swels and fomes, and so he overfils
His naturall channell that besides both hedge and bridge resignes
To his rough confluence, farre spread, and lustie flourishing vines
Drownd in his outrage: Tydeus' sonne so over-ran the field,
Strew'd such as flourisht in his way and made whole squadrons yeeld.
When Pandarus, Lycaon's sonne, beheld his ruining hand
With such resistlesse insolence make lanes through everie band,
He bent his gold-tipt bow of horne and shot him rushing in
At his right shoulder where his armes were hollow. Foorth did spin
The blood and downe his curets ranne. Then Pandarus cried out:
‘Ranke-riding Troyans, now rush in! Now, now, I make no doubt
Our bravest foe is markt for death. He cannot long sustaine
My violent shaft, if Jove's faire Sonne did worthily constraine
My foot from Lycia.’ Thus he brav'd, and yet his violent shaft
Strooke short with all his violence. Tydides' life was saft,
Who yet withdrew himselfe behind his chariot and steeds
And cald to Sthenelus: ‘Come, friend, my wounded shoulder needs
Thy hand to ease it of this shaft.’ He hasted from his seate
Before the coach and drew the shaft. The purple wound did sweate
And drowne his shirt of male in blood, and as it bled he praid:
‘Heare me, of Jove Ægiochus thou most unconquerd maid!
If ever in the cruell field thou hast assistfull stood
Or to my father or my selfe, now love and do me good.
Give him into my lance's reach that thus hath given a wound
To him thou guardst, preventing me, and brags that never more
I shall behold the chearefull Sunne.’ Thus did the king implore.
The Goddesse heard, came neare and tooke the wearinesse of fight
From all his nerves and lineaments, and made them fresh and light,
And said: ‘Be bold, O Diomed. In everie combat shine.
The great shield-shaker Tydeus’ strength (that knight, that Sire of thine)
By my infusion breaths in thee. And from thy knowing mind
I have remov'd those erring mists that made it lately blind,
That thou maist difference Gods from men. And therefore use thy skill
Against the tempting Deities, if any have a will
To trie if thou presum'st of that, as thine, that flowes from them,
And so assum'st above thy right. Where thou discern'st a beame
Of any other heavenly power than she that rules in love
That cals thee to the change of blowes, resist not, but remove.
But if that Goddesse be so bold (since she first stird this warre)
Assault and marke her from the rest with some infamous scarre.’
The blew-eyd Goddesse vanished, and he was seene againe
Amongst the foremost, who before though he were prompt and faine
To fight against the Troyans' powers, now on his spirits were cald
With thrise the vigor. Lion-like, that hath bene lately gald
By some bold sheapheard in a field where his curld flockes were laid,
Who tooke him as he leapt the fold—not slaine yet but appaid
With greater spirit, comes againe, and then the shepheard hides
(The rather for the desolate place) and in his Coate abides,
His flockes left guardlesse, which, amaz'd, shake and shrinke up in heapes;
He (ruthlesse) freely takes his prey and out againe he leapes:
So sprightly, fierce, victorious, the great Heroe flew
Upon the Troyans, and at once he two Commanders slew,
Hypenor and Astynous. In one his lance he fixt
Full at the nipple of his breast: the other smote betwixt
The necke and shoulder with his sword, which was so well laid on
It swept his arme and shoulder off. These left, he rusht upon
Abas and Polyeidus, of old Eurydamas
The haplesse sonnes, who could by dreames tell what would come to passe,
Yet when his sonnes set forth to Troy, the old man could not read
By their dreames what would chance to them, for both were stricken dead
By great Tydides. After these, he takes into his rage
Xanthus and Thoon, Phænops' sonnes borne to him in his age—
The good old man even pin'd with yeares, and had not one sonne more
To heire his goods. Yet Diomed tooke both and left him store
Of teares and sorowes in their steeds since he could never see
His sonnes leave those hote warres alive: so this the end must be
Of all his labours; what he heapt to make his issue great
Authoritie heird and with her seed fild his forgotten seate.
Then snatcht he up two Priamists that in one chariot stood,
Echemmon and faire Chromius. As feeding in a wood
Oxen or steeres are, one of which a Lyon leapes upon,
Teares downe and wrings in two his necke, so sternely Tydeus' sonne
Threw from their chariot both these hopes of old Dardanides,
Then tooke their armes and sent their horse to those that ride the seas.
Æneas (seeing the troopes thus tost) brake through the heate of fight
And all the whizzing of the darts to find the Lycian knight
Lycaon's sonne, whom having found he thus bespake the Peere:
‘O Pandarus, where's now thy bow, thy deathfull arrowes where,
In which no one in all our host but gives the palme to thee,
Nor in the Sun-lov'd Lycian greenes that breed our Archerie
Lives any that exceeds thy selfe? Come, lift thy hands to Jove
And send an arrow at this man (if but a man he prove
That winnes such God-like victories and now affects our host
With so much sorrow, since so much of our best blood is lost
By his high valour). I have feare some God in him doth threat,
Incenst for want of sacrifice: the wrath of God is great.’
Lycaon's famous sonne replyde: ‘Great Counsellor of Troy,
This man so excellent in armes I think is Tydeus' joy.
I know him by his fierie shield, by his bright three-plum'd caske
And by his horse: nor can I say if or some God doth maske
In his apparance or he be (whom I nam'd) Tydeus' sonne;
But without God the things he does (for certaine) are not done;
Some great Immortall that conveyes his shoulders in a clowd
Goes by and puts by everie dart at his bold breast bestowd,
Or lets it take with little hurt; for I my selfe let flie
A shaft that shot him through his armes, but had as good gone by—
Yet which I gloriously affirm'd had driven him downe to hell.
Some God is angrie, and with me, for farre hence, where I dwell
My horse and Chariots idle stand with which some other way
I might repaire this shamefull misse. Eleven faire chariots stay
In old Lycaon's Court, new made, new trimd to have bene gone,
Curtaind and Arrast under-foote, two horse to every one,
That eate white Barly and blacke Otes and do no good at all;
And these Lycaon (that well knew how these affaires would fall)
Charg'd (when I set downe this designe) I should command with here
And gave me many lessons more, all which much better were
Than any I tooke forth my selfe. The reason I laid downe
Was but the sparing of my horse, since in a sieged towne
I thought our horse-meate would be scant, when they were usd to have
Their mangers full. So I left them and like a lackey slave
Am come to Ilion confident in nothing but my bow,
That nothing profits me. Two shafts I vainly did bestow
At two great Princes but of both my arrowes neither slew,
Nor this nor Atreus' yonger sonne: a little blood I drew
That serv'd but to incense them more. In an unhappie starre
I therefore from my Armorie have drawne those tooles of warre,
That day when for great Hector's sake to amiable Troy
I came to leade the Troyan bands. But if I ever joy
(In safe returne) my Countrie's sight, my wive's, my lofty towres,
Let any stranger take this head if to the firie powres
This bow, these shafts, in peeces burst (by these hands) be not throwne—
Idle companions that they are to me and my renowne.’
Æneas said: ‘Use no such words, for any other way
Than this they shall not now be usd. We first will both assay
This man with horse and chariot. Come then, ascend to me,
That thou maist trie our Troyan horse how skild in field they be,
And in pursuing those that flie, or flying, being pursude,
How excellent they are of foote: and these (if Jove conclude
The scape of Tydeus againe and grace him with our flight)
Shall serve to bring us safely off. Come, I'le be first shall fight:
Take thou these faire reines and this scourge. Or (if thou wilt) fight thou
And leave the horses' care to me.’ He answered: ‘I will now
Descend to fight; keepe thou the reines, and guide thy selfe thy horse,
Who with their wonted manager will better wield the force
Of the impulsive chariot, if we be driven to flie,
Than with a stranger—under whom they will be much more shye,
And (fearing my voice, wishing thine) grow restie, nor go on
To beare us off, but leave engag'd for mightie Tydeus' sonne
Themselves and us. Then be thy part thy one-hov'd horses' guide,
I'le make the fight, and with a dart receive his utmost pride.’
With this the gorgious chariot both (thus prepar'd) ascend
And make full way at Diomed; which noted by his friend,
‘Mine owne most loved Mind,’ said he, ‘two mightie men of warre
I see come with a purposd charge; one's he that hits so farre
With bow and shaft, Lycaon's sonne: the other fames the brood
Of great Anchises and the Queene that rules in Amorous blood—
Æneas, excellent in armes. Come up and use your steeds
And looke not warre so in the face, lest that desire that feeds
Thy great mind be the bane of it.’ This did with anger sting
The blood of Diomed, to see his friend, that chid the king
Before the fight, and then preferd his ablesse and his mind
To all his ancestors in fight, now come so farre behind—
Whom thus he answerd: ‘Urge no flight, you cannot please me so.
Nor is it honest, in my mind, to feare a coming foe,
Or make a flight good, though with fight. My powers are yet entire
And scorne the help-tire of a horse. I will not blow the fire
Of their hote valours with my flight, but cast upon the blaze
This body borne upon my knees. I entertaine amaze?
Minerva will not see that shame. And since they have begun,
They shall not both elect their ends; and he that scapes shall runne,
Or stay and take the other's fate. And this I leave for thee—
If amply wise Athenia give both their lives to me,
Reine our horse to their chariot hard, and have a speciall heed
To seise upon Æneas' steeds, that we may change their breed
And make a Grecian race of them that have bene long of Troy.
For these are bred of those brave beasts which, for the lovely Boy
That waits now on the cup of Jove, Jove, that farre-seeing God,
Gave Tros the king in recompence—the best that ever trod
The sounding Center underneath the Morning and the Sunne.
Anchises stole the breed of them, for where their Sires did runne
He closely put his Mares to them, and never made it knowne
To him that heird them, who was then the king Laomedon.
Sixe horses had he of that race, of which himselfe kept foure
And gave the other two his sonne; and these are they that scoure
The field so bravely towards us, expert in charge and flight.
If these we have the power to take, our prize is exquisite,
And our renowne will farre exceed.’ While these were talking thus,
The fir'd horse brought th'assailants neare, and thus spake Pandarus:
‘Most suffering-minded Tydeus' sonne, that hast of warre the art,
My shaft, that strooke thee, slue thee not; I now will prove a dart.’
This said, he shooke, and then he threw, a lance, aloft and large,
That in Tydides' curets stucke, quite driving through his targe.
Then braid he out so wild a voice that all the field might heare:
‘Now have I reacht thy root of life, and by thy death shall beare
Our praise's chiefe prize from the field.’ Tydides undismaid
Replide: ‘Thou err'st, I am not toucht: but more charge will be laid
To both your lives before you part: at least the life of one
Shall satiate the throate of Mars.’ This said, his lance was gone.
Minerva led it to his face, which at his eye ranne in,
And, as he stoopt, strooke through his jawes, his tong's roote and his chinne.
Downe from the chariot he fell, his gay armes shin'd and rung,
The swift horse trembled, and his soule for ever charm'd his tongue.
Æneas with his shield and lance leapt swiftly to his friend,
Affraid the Greekes would force his trunke; and that he did defend,
Bold as a Lyon of his strength. He hid him with his shield,
Shooke round his lance, and horribly did threaten all the field
With death, if any durst make in. Tydides raisd a stone,
With his one hand, of wondrous weight, and powr'd it mainly on
The hip of Anchisiades, wherein the joynt doth move
The thigh—tis cald the huckle bone—which all in sherds it drove,
Brake both the nerves, and with the edge cut all the flesh away.
It staggerd him upon his knees, and made th'Heroe stay
His strooke-blind temples on his hand, his elbow on the earth.
And there this Prince of men had died if she that gave him birth
(Kist by Anchises on the greene, where his faire oxen fed,
Jove's loving daughter) instantly had not about him spred
Her soft embraces, and convaid within her heavenly vaile
(Usd as a rampier gainst all darts, that did so hote assaile)
Her deare-lov'd issue from the field. Then Sthenelus in hast
(Remembring what his friend advisd) from forth the preasse made fast
His owne horse to their chariot, and presently laid hand
Upon the lovely-coated horse Æneas did command,
Which bringing to the wondring Greekes he did their guard commend
To his belov'd Deipylus, who was his inward friend
And (of his equals) one to whom he had most honor showne,
That he might see them safe at fleete. Then stept he to his owne,
With which he chearefully made in to Tydeus' mightie race.
He (madde with his great enemie's rape) was hote in desperate chase
Of her that made it, with his lance (arm'd lesse with steele than spight),
Well knowing her no Deitie that had to do in fight—
Minerva his great patronesse, nor she that raceth townes,
Bellona, but a Goddesse weake and foe to men's renownes.
Her (through a world of fight) pursude, at last he over-tooke,
And (thrusting up his ruthlesse lance) her heavenly veile he strooke
(That even the Graces wrought themselves at her divine command)
Quite through, and hurt the tender backe of her delicious hand.
The rude point piercing through her palme, forth flow'd th' immortall blood
(Blood such as flowes in blessed Gods, that eate no humane food
Nor drinke of our inflaming wine, and therefore bloodlesse are
And cald immortals). Out she cried, and could no longer beare
Her lov'd sonne, whom she cast from her; and in a sable clowd
Phœbus (receiving) hid him close from all the Grecian crowd,
Lest some of them should find his death. Away flew Venus then,
And after her cried Diomed: ‘Away, thou spoile of men,
Though sprung from all-preserving Jove! These hote encounters leave!
Is't not enough that sillie Dames thy sorceries should deceive
Unlesse thou thrust into the warre and rob a souldier's right?
I thinke a few of these assaults will make thee feare the fight,
Where ever thou shalt heare it nam'd.’ She, sighing, went her way
Extremely griev'd, and with her griefes her beauties did decay,
And blacke her Ivorie bodie grew. Then from a dewy mist
Brake swift-foot Iris to her aide from all the darts that hist
At her quicke rapture; and to Mars they tooke their plaintife course,
And found him on the fight's left hand, by him his speedie horse
And huge lance lying in a fogge. The Queene of all things faire
Her loved brother on her knees besought with instant prayre
His golden-ribband-bound-man'd horse to lend her up to heaven,
For she was much griev'd with a wound a mortall man had given—
Tydides, that gainst Jove himselfe durst now advance his arme.
He granted, and his chariot (perplext with her late harme)
She mounted, and her wagonnesse was she that paints the aire.
The horse she reind, and with a scourge importun'd their repaire
That of themselves out-flew the wind, and quickly they ascend
Olympus, high seate of the Gods; th' horse knew their journie's end,
Stood still, and from their chariot the windie-footed Dame
Dissolv'd and gave them heavenly food; and to Dione came
Her wounded daughter, bent her knees. She kindly bad her stand;
With sweet embraces helpt her up, strok't her with her soft hand;
Call'd kindly by her name, and askt: ‘What God hath bene so rude,
Sweet daughter, to chastise thee thus—as if thou wert pursude
Even to the act of some light sinne, and deprehended so?
For otherwise each close escape is in the Great let go.’
She answerd: ‘Haughtie Tydeus' sonne hath bene so insolent,
Since he whom most my heart esteemes of all my lov'd descent
I rescu'd from his bloodie hand. Now battell is not given
To any Troyans by the Greekes, but by the Greekes to heaven.’
She answerd: ‘Daughter, thinke not much, though much it grieve thee: use
The patience, whereof many Gods examples may produce
In many bitter ils receiv'd, as well that men sustaine
By their inflictions as by men repaid to them againe.
Mars sufferd much more than thy selfe by Ephialtes' powre
And Otus', Aloeus' sonnes, who in a brazen towre
(And in inextricable chaines) cast that warre-greedie God;
Where twise sixe months and one he liv'd, and there the period
Of his sad life perhaps had closd if his kind step-dame's eye,
Faire Erebœa, had not seene, who told it Mercurie,
And he by stealth enfranchisd him, though he could scarce enjoy
The benefite of franchisment, the chaines did so destroy
His vitall forces with their weight. So Juno sufferd more
When with a three-forkt arrowe's head Amphitryon's sonne did gore
Her right breast past all hope of cure. Pluto sustaind no lesse
By that selfe man, and by a shaft of equall bitternesse,
Shot through his shoulder at hell gates, and there (amongst the dead,
Were he not deathlesse) he had died, but up to heaven he fled
(Extremely tortur'd) for recure, which instantly he wonne
At Pæon's hand with soveraigne Balme—and this did Jove's great sonne,
Unblest, great-high-deed-daring man, that car'd not doing ill,
That with his bow durst wound the Gods. But by Minerva's will
Thy wound the foolish Diomed was so prophane to give,
Not knowing he that fights with heaven hath never long to live.
And for this deed he never shall have child about his knee
To call him father, coming home. Besides, heare this from me,
Strength-trusting man: though thou be strong and art in strength a towre,
Take heed a stronger meet thee not, and that a woman's powre
Containes not that superiour strength, and lest that woman be
Adrastus' daughter, and thy wife, the wise Ægiale,
When (from this houre not farre) she wakes, even sighing with desire
To kindle our revenge on thee with her enamouring fire,
In choosing her some fresh young friend and so drowne all thy fame
Wonne here in warre in her Court-peace and in an opener shame.’
This said, with both her hands she cleansd the tender backe and palme
Of all the sacred blood they lost; and, never using Balme,
The paine ceast, and the wound was cur'd of this kind Queene of love.
Juno and Pallas seeing this, assaid to anger Jove
And quit his late-made mirth with them about the loving Dame
With some sharpe jest, in like sort built upon her present shame.
Grey-eyd Athenia began, and askt the Thunderer,
If (nothing moving him to wrath) she boldly might preferre
What she conceiv'd to his conceipt; and (staying no reply)
She bade him view the Cyprian fruite he lov'd so tenderly,
Whom she thought hurt, and by this meanes—intending to suborne
Some other Ladie of the Greekes (whom lovely veiles adorne)
To gratifie some other friend of her much-loved Troy,
As she embrac't and stird her blood to the Venerean joy,
The golden claspe those Grecian Dames upon their girdles weare
Tooke hold of her delicious hand and hurt it, she had feare.
The Thunderer smil'd and cald to him love's golden Arbitresse,
And told her those rough workes of warre were not for her accesse:
She should be making mariages, embracings, kisses, charmes—
Sterne Mars and Pallas had the charge of those affaires in armes.
While these thus talkt, Tydides' rage still thirsted to atchieve
His prise upon Anchises' sonne, though well he did perceive
The Sunne himselfe protected him: but his desires (inflam'd
With that great Troyan Prince's blood and armes so highly fam'd)
Not that great God did reverence. Thrise rusht he rudely on,
And thrise betwixt his darts and death the Sunne's bright target shone.
But when upon the fourth assault (much like a spirit) he flew,
The far-off-working Deitie exceeding wrathfull grew,
And askt him: ‘What? Not yeeld to Gods? Thy equals learne to know:
The race of Gods is farre above men creeping here below.’
This drave him to some small retreite; he would not tempt more neare
The wrath of him that strooke so farre, whose powre had now set cleare
Æneas from the stormie field within the holy place
Of Pergamus, where to the hope of his so soveraigne grace
A goodly Temple was advanc't, in whose large inmost part
He left him, and to his supply enclin'd his mother's heart
Latona, and the dart-pleasd Queene, who cur'd and made him strong.
The silver-bow'd faire God then threw in the tumultuous throng
An Image that in stature, looke and armes he did create
Like Venus' sonne—for which the Greekes and Troyans made debate,
Laid lowd strokes on their Ox-hide shields and bucklers easly borne:
Which error Phœbus pleasd to urge on Mars himselfe in scorne:
‘Mars, Mars,’ said he, ‘thou plague of men, smeard with the dust and blood
Of humanes and their ruin'd wals, yet thinks thy God-head good
To fright this Furie from the field, who next will fight with Jove?
First, in a bold approch he hurt the moist palme of thy Love,
And next (as if he did affect to have a Deitie's powre)
He held out his assault on me.’ This said, the loftie towre
Of Pergamus he made his seate, and Mars did now excite
The Troyan forces, in the forme of him that led to fight
The Thracian troopes, swift Acamas: ‘O Priam's sonnes,’ said he,
‘How long the slaughter of your men can ye sustaine to see?
Even till they brave ye at your gates? Ye suffer beaten downe
Æneas, great Anchises' sonne, whose prowesse we renowne
As much as Hector's. Fetch him off from this contentious prease.’
With this, the strength and spirits of all his courage did increase;
And yet Sarpedon seconds him with this particular taunt
Of noble Hector: ‘Hector, where is thy unthankfull vaunt
And that huge strength on which it built—that thou and thy allies
With all thy brothers (without aid of us or our supplies,
And troubling not a citizen) the Citie safe would hold?
In all which, friends' and brothers' helps I see not, nor am told
Of any one of their exploits. But (all held in dismay
Of Diomed, like a sort of dogs that at a Lion bay
And entertaine no spirit to pinch), we (your assistants here)
Fight for the towne, as you helpt us: and I (an aiding Peere,
No Citizen, even out of care that doth become a man
For men and children's liberties) adde all the aide I can—
Not out of my particular cause; far hence my profit growes,
For far hence Asian Lycia lies, where gulfie Xanthus flowes,
And where my lov'd wife, infant sonne and treasure nothing scant
I left behind me, which I see those men would have that want,
And therefore they that have, would keepe. Yet I (as I would lose
Their sure fruition) cheere my troupes and with their lives propose
Mine owne life both to generall fight and to particular cope
With this great souldier—though (I say) I entertaine no hope
To have such gettings as the Greeks, nor feare to lose like Troy.
Yet thou (even Hector) deedlesse standst, and car'st not to employ
Thy towne-borne friends, to bid them stand, to fight and save their wives—
Lest as a Fowler casts his nets upon the silly lives
Of birds of all sorts, so the foe your walls and houses hales
(One with another) on all heads, or such as scape their fals
Be made the prey and prize of them (as willing overthrowne)
That hope not for you with their force: and so this brave-built towne
Will prove a Chaos. That deserves in thee so hote a care
As should consume thy dayes and nights to hearten and prepare
Th' assistant Princes, pray their minds to beare their far-brough toiles
To give them worth with worthy fight; in victories and foiles
Still to be equall; and thy selfe (exampling them in all)
Need no reproofes nor spurs. All this in thy free choice should fall.’
This stung great Hector's heart: and yet, as every generous mind
Should silent beare a just reproofe and shew what good they find
In worthy counsels, by their ends put into present deeds,
Not stomacke, nor be vainly sham'd, so Hector's spirit proceeds,
And from his Chariot (wholly arm'd) he jumpt upon the sand,
On foote so toiling through the hoast, a dart in either hand,
And all hands turn'd against the Greeks. The Greeks despisde their worst
And (thickning their instructed powres) expected all they durst.
Then with the feet of horse and foote the dust in clouds did rise.
And as in sacred floores of barnes upon corne-winowers flies
The chaffe, driven with an opposite wind, when yellow Ceres dites,
Which all the Diters' feet, legs, armes, their heads and shoulders whites:
So lookt the Grecians gray with dust, that strooke the solide heaven,
Raisd from returning chariots and troupes together driven.
Each side stood to their labours firme: fierce Mars flew through the aire
And gatherd darknesse from the fight, and, with his best affaire,
Obeyd the pleasure of the Sunne, that weares the golden sword,
Who bad him raise the spirits of Troy, when Pallas ceast t'afford
Her helping office to the Greeks; and then his owne hands wrought,
Which (from his Phane's rich chancell, cur'd) the true Æneas brought,
And plac't him by his Peeres in field—who did (with joy) admire
To see him both alive and safe and all his powers entire,
Yet stood not sifting how it chanc't—another sort of taske
Than stirring th' idle sive of newes did all their forces aske,
Inflam'd by Phœbus, harmfull Mars, and Eris, eagrer farre.
The Greekes had none to hearten them; their hearts rose with the warre;
But chiefly Diomed, Ithacus and both th' Ajaces usde
Stirring examples and good words: their owne fames had infusde
Spirit enough into their blouds to make them neither feare
The Troyans' force nor Fate it selfe, but still expecting were,
When most was done, what would be more. Their ground they stil made good,
And (in their silence and set powers) like faire still clouds they stood,
With which Jove crownes the tops of hils in any quiet day,
When Boreas and the ruder winds (that use to drive away
Aire's duskie vapors, being loose, in many a whistling gale)
Are pleasingly bound up and calme, and not a breath exhale:
So firmely stood the Greeks, nor fled for all the Ilians' ayd.
Atrides yet coasts through the troupes, confirming men so stayd:
‘O friends,’ said he, ‘hold up your minds; strength is but strength of will;
Reverence each other's good in fight, and shame at things done ill.
Where souldiers shew an honest shame, and love of honour lives
That ranks men with the first in fight, death fewer liveries gives
Than life, or than where Fame's neglect makes cow-herds fight at length.
Flight neither doth the bodie grace nor shewes the mind hath strength.’
He said, and swiftly through the troupes a mortall Lance did send,
That reft a standard-bearer's life, renownd Æneas' friend,
Deicoon Pergasides, whom all the Troyans lov'd
As he were one of Priam's sonnes, his mind was so approv'd
In alwayes fighting with the first. The Lance his target tooke,
Which could not interrupt the blow that through it cleerly strook
And in his bellie's rimme was sheath'd beneath his girdle-stead.
He sounded falling, and his armes with him resounded, dead.
Then fell two Princes of the Greeks, by great Æneas' ire,
Diocleus' sonnes, Orsilochus, and Crethon, whose kind Sire
In bravely-builded Phere dwelt, rich, and of sacred bloud.
He was descended lineally from great Alphæus' floud,
That broadly flowes through Pylos' fields: Alphæus did beget
Orsilochus, who in the rule of many men was set:
And that Orsilochus begat the rich Diocleus:
Diocleus sire to Crethon was and this Orsilochus.
Both these, arriv'd at man's estate, with both th' Atrides went
To honor them in th' Ilian warres; and both were one way sent
To death as well as Troy, for death hid both in one blacke houre.
As two yong Lions (with their dam, sustaind but to devoure)
Bred on the tops of some steepe hill and in the gloomie deepe
Of an inaccessible wood, rush out and prey on sheepe,
Steeres, Oxen, and destroy men's stals so long that they come short
And by the Owner's steele are slaine: in such unhappie sort
Fell these beneath Æneas' powre. When Menelaus view'd
(Like two tall fir-trees) these two fall, their timelesse fals he rew'd,
And to the first fight where they lay a vengefull force he tooke.
His armes beat backe the Sunne in flames; a dreadfull Lance he shooke;
Mars put the furie in his mind that by Æneas' hands
(Who was to make the slaughter good) he might have strewd the sands.
Antilochus (old Nestor's sonne) observing he was bent
To urge a combat of such ods, and knowing the event
Being ill on his part, all their paines (alone sustaind for him)
Er'd from their end, made after hard and tooke them in the trim
Of an encounter; both their hands and darts advanc't and shooke,
And both pitcht in full stand of charge—when suddenly the looke
Of Anchisiades tooke note of Nestor's valiant sonne
In full charge too, which two to one made Venus' issue shunne
The hote adventure, though he were a souldier well approv'd.
Then drew they off their slaughterd friends, who given to their belov'd,
They turnd where fight shewd deadliest hate, and there mixt with the dead
Pylæmen, that the targatiers of Paphlagonia led,
A man like Mars; and with him fell good Mydon that did guide
His chariot, Atymnus' sonne. The Prince Pylæmen died
By Menelaus; Nestor's joy slue Mydon; one before,
The other in the chariot. Atrides' lance did gore
Pylæmen's shoulder in the blade; Antilochus did force
A mightie stone up from the earth, and (as he turnd his horse)
Strooke Mydon's elbow in the midst; the reines of Ivorie
Fell from his hands into the dust; Antilochus let flie
His sword withall, and (rushing in) a blow so deadly layd
Upon his temples that he gron'd, tumbl'd to earth, and stayd
A mightie while preposterously (because the dust was deepe)
Upon his necke and shoulders there, even till his foe tooke keepe
Of his prisde horse and made them stirre; and then he prostrate fell.
His horse Antilochus tooke home. When Hector had heard tell
(Amongst the uprore) of their deaths, he laid out all his voice
And ran upon the Greeks: behind came many men of choice,
Before him marcht great Mars himselfe, matcht with his femall mate,
The drad Bellona. She brought on (to fight for mutuall Fate)
A tumult that was wilde and mad: he shooke a horrid Lance
And now led Hector, and anon behind would make the chance.
This sight when great Tydides saw, his haire stood up on end,
And him whom all the skill and powre of armes did late attend
Now like a man in counsell poore, that (travelling) goes amisse,
And (having past a boundlesse plaine) not knowing where he is,
Comes on the sodaine where he sees a river rough and raves
With his owne billowes ravished into the king of waves,
Murmurs with fome, and frights him backe: so he, amazd, retirde,
And thus would make good his amaze: ‘O friends, we all admirde
Great Hector as one of himselfe, well-darting, bold in warre,
When some God guards him still from death and makes him dare so farre.
Now Mars himselfe (formd like a man), is present in his rage,
And therefore whatsoever cause importunes you to wage
Warre with these Troyans, never strive, but gently take your rod,
Lest in your bosomes, for a man, ye ever find a God.’
As Greece retirde, the power of Troy did much more forward prease,
And Hector two brave men of warre sent to the fields of peace—
Menesthes and Anchialus; one chariot bare them both.
Their fals made Ajax Telamon ruthfull of heart and wroth,
Who lightned out a lance that smote Amphius Selages,
That dwelt in Pæsos, rich in lands, and did huge goods possesse,
But Fate to Priam and his sonnes conducted his supply:
The Javelin on his girdle strooke and pierced mortally
His bellie's lower part; he fell. His armes had lookes so trim
That Ajax needs would prove their spoile; the Troyans powrd on him
Whole stormes of Lances, large and sharpe, of which a number stucke
In his rough shield; yet from the slaine he did his Javelin plucke,
But could not from his shoulders force the armes he did affect,
The Troyans with such drifts of Darts the body did protect.
And wisely Telamonius fear'd their valorous defence,
So many and so strong of hand stood in with such expence
Of deadly prowesse, who repeld (though big, strong, bold he were)
The famous Ajax, and their friend did from his rapture beare.
Thus this place, fild with strength of fight in th' armie's other prease,
Tlepolemus, a tall big man, the sonne of Hercules,
A cruell destinie inspir'd with strong desire to prove
Encounter with Sarpedon's strength, the sonne of Cloudy Jove;
Who, coming on to that sterne end, had chosen him his foe.
Thus Jove's great Nephew and his sonne 'gainst one another go.
Tlepolemus (to make his end more worth the will of Fate)
Began, as if he had her powre, and shewd the mortall state
Of too much confidence in man with this superflous Brave:
‘Sarpedon, what necessitie, or needlesse humor drave
Thy forme to these warres—which in heart I know thou doest abhorre?
A man not seene in deeds of armes, a Lycian counsellor—
They lie that call thee sonne to Jove, since Jove bred none so late.
The men of elder times were they that his high powre begat,
Such men as had Herculean force. My father Hercules
Was Jove's true issue; he was bold, his deeds did well expresse
They sprung out of a Lion's heart. He whilome came to Troy
(For horse that Jupiter gave Tros, for Ganymed his boy)
With sixe ships onely and few men, and tore the Citie downe,
Left all her broad wayes desolate, and made the horse his owne.
For thee, thy mind is ill disposde, thy bodie's powers are poore,
And therefore are thy troopes so weake: the souldier evermore
Followes the temper of his chiefe, and thou pull'st downe a side.
But say thou art the sonne of Jove, and hast thy meanes supplide
With forces fitting his descent—the powers that I compell
Shall throw thee hence, and make thy head run ope the gates of hell.’
Jove's Lycian issue answerd him: ‘Tlepolemus, tis true
Thy father holy Ilion in that sort overthrew.
Th' injustice of the king was cause, that where thy father had
Usde good deservings, to his state he quitted him with bad.
Hesione, the joy and grace of king Laomedon,
Thy father rescude from a whale and gave to Telamon
In honourd Nuptials—Telamon, from whom your strongest Greeke
Boasts to have issude; and this grace might well expect the like,
Yet he gave taunts for thanks, and kept, against his oath, his horse.
And therefore both thy father's strength and justice might enforce
The wreake he tooke on Troy. But this and thy cause differ farre;
Sonnes seldome heire their fathers' worths; thou canst not make his warre.
What thou assum'st from him is mine, to be on thee imposde.’
With this, he threw an ashen dart, and then Tlepolemus losde
Another from his glorious hand. Both at one instant flew,
Both strooke, both wounded; from his necke, Sarpedon's Javelin drew
The life-bloud of Tlepolemus; full in the midst it fell,
And what he threatned, th' other gave—that darknesse, and that hell.
Sarpedon's left thigh tooke the Lance; it pierc't the solide bone
And with his raging head ranne through; but Jove preserv'd his sonne.
The dart yet vext him bitterly, which should have bene puld out,
But none considerd then so much, so thicke came on the rout
And fild each hand so full of cause to plie his owne defence.
Twas held enough (both falne) that both were nobly caried thence.
Ulysses knew the events of both and tooke it much to hart
That his friend's enemie should scape; and in a twofold part
His thoughts contended, if he should pursue Sarpedon's life
Or take his friend's wreake on his men. Fate did conclude this strife,
By whom twas otherwise decreed than that Ulysses' steele
Should end Sarpedon. In this doubt, Minerva tooke the wheele
From fickle Chance and made his mind resolve to right his friend
With that bloud he could surest draw. Then did Revenge extend
Her full powre on the multitude. Then did he never misse.
Alastor, Halius, Chromius, Noemon, Prytanis,
Alcander and a number more he slue, and more had slaine
If Hector had not understood, whose powre made in amaine
And strooke feare through the Grecian troupes, but to Sarpedon gave
Hope of full rescue, who thus cried: ‘O Hector! helpe and save
My body from the spoile of Greece, that to your loved towne
My friends may see me borne, and then let earth possesse her owne
In this soyle for whose sake I left my countrie's; for no day
Shall ever shew me that againe, nor to my wife display
(And yong hope of my Name) the joy of my much thirsted sight:
All which I left for Troy, for them let Troy then do this right.’
To all this Hector gives no word, but greedily he strives
With all speed to repell the Greekes and shed in floods their lives,
And left Sarpedon: but what face soever he put on
Of following the common cause, he left this Prince alone
For his particular grudge, because so late he was so plaine
In his reproofe before the host, and that did he retaine.
How ever, for example sake, he would not shew it then,
And for his shame too, since twas just. But good Sarpedon's men
Venturd themselves, and forc't him off and set him underneath
The goodly Beech of Jupiter, where now they did unsheath
The Ashen lance; strong Pelagon, his friend, most lov'd, most true,
Enforc't it from his maimed thigh—with which his spirit flew
And darknesse over-flew his eyes, yet with a gentle gale,
That round about the dying Prince coole Boreas did exhale,
He was reviv'd, recomforted, that else had griev'd and dyed.
All this time, flight drave to the fleet the Argives, who applyed
No weapon gainst the proud pursuite, nor ever turnd a head,
They knew so well that Mars pursude, and dreadfull Hector led.
Then who was first, who last, whose lives, the Iron Mars did seise,
And Priam's Hector? Helenus, surnam'd OEnopides;
Good Teuthras, and Orestes, skild in managing of horse;
Bold OEnomaus, and a man renownd for martiall force,
Trechus, the great Ætolian Chiefe; Oresbius, that did weare
The gawdy Myter, studied wealth extremely, and dwelt neare
Th' Atlantique lake Cephisides, in Hyla, by whose seate
The good men of Bœotia dwelt. This slaughter grew so great
It flew to heaven. Saturnia discernd it, and cried out
To Pallas: ‘O unworthy sight, to see a field so fought,
And breake our words to Sparta's king, that Ilion should be rac't
And he returne reveng'd, when thus we see his Greekes disgrac't
And beare the harmfull rage of Mars! Come, let us use our care
That we dishonor not our powers.’ Minerva was as yare
As she at the despight of Troy. Her golden-bridl'd steeds
Then Saturn's daughter brought abrode, and Hebe she proceeds
T' addresse her chariot; instantly she gives it either wheele,
Beam'd with eight Spokes of sounding brasse. The Axle-tree was steele,
The Felffes, incorruptible gold, their upper bands of brasse,
Their matter most unvallued, their worke of wondrous grace.
The Naves in which the Spokes were driven were all with silver bound;
The chariot's seate two hoopes of gold and silver strengthned round,
Edg'd with a gold and silver fringe; the beame that lookt before
Was massie silver, on whose top geres all of gold it wore
And golden Poitrils. Juno mounts and her hote horses rein'd,
That thirsted for contention and still of peace complaind.
Minerva wrapt her in the robe, that curiously she wove
With glorious colours as she sate on th' Azure floore of Jove,
And wore the armes that he puts on, bent to the tearefull field.
About her brode-spred shoulders hung his huge and horrid shield,
Fring'd round with ever-fighting Snakes; through it was drawne to life
The miseries and deaths of fight; in it frownd bloodie Strife;
In it shin'd sacred Fortitude; in it fell Pursuit flew;
In it the monster Gorgon's head, in which (held out to view)
Were all the dire ostents of Jove. On her big head she plac't
His foure-plum'd glittering caske of gold, so admirably vast
It would a hundred garrisons of souldiers comprehend.
Then to her shining chariot her vigorous feet ascend,
And in her violent hand she takes his grave, huge, solid lance,
With which the conquests of her wrath she useth to advance
And overturne whole fields of men, to shew she was the seed
Of him that thunders. Then heaven's Queene (to urge her horses' speed)
Takes up the scourge, and forth they flie; the ample gates of heaven
Rung, and flew open of themselves, the charge whereof is given
(With all Olympus and the skie) to the distinguisht Howres,
That cleare or hide it all in clowds, or powre it downe in showres.
This way their scourge-obeying horse made haste, and soone they wonne
The top of all the topfull heavens, where aged Saturn's sonne
Sate severd from the other Gods. Then staid the white-arm'd Queene
Her steeds, and askt of Jove, if Mars did not incense his spleene
With his foule deeds in ruining so many and so great
In the Command and grace of Greece, and in so rude a heate.
At which (she said) Apollo laught and Venus, who still sue
To that mad God for violence that never justice knew;
For whose impietie she askt, if, with his wished love,
Her selfe might free the field of him? He bade her rather move
Athenia to the charge she sought, who usd of old to be
The bane of Mars, and had as well the gift of spoile as he.
This grace she slackt not, but her horse scourg'd, that in nature flew
Betwixt the cope of starres and earth. And how farre at a view
A man into the purple Sea may from a hill descrie,
So farre a high-neighing horse of heaven at everie jumpe would flie.
Arriv'd at Troy, where, broke in curls, the two floods mixe their force,
Scamander and bright Simois, Saturnia staid her horse,
Tooke them from chariot, and a clowd of mightie depth diffusd
About them; and the verdant bankes of Simois produc'd
(In nature) what they eate in heaven. Then both the Goddesses
Marcht like a paire of timorous Doves, in hasting their accesse
To th' Argive succour. Being arriv'd where both the most and best
Were heapt together (shewing all like Lyons at a feast
Of new slaine carkasses, or Bores beyond encounter strong),
There found they Diomed; and there midst all th' admiring throng
Saturnia put on Stentor's shape, that had a brazen voice
And spake as lowd as fiftie men—like whom she made a noise
And chid the Argives: ‘O ye Greekes—in name and outward rite
But Princes onely, not in act—what scandall, what despight
Use ye to honor? All the time the great Æacides
Was conversant in armes, your foes durst not a foote addresse
Without their ports, so much they feard his lance that all controld—
And now they out-ray to your fleete.’ This did with shame make bold
The generall spirit and powre of Greece, when (with particular note
Of their disgrace) Athenia made Tydeus' issue hote.
She found him at his chariot, refreshing of his wound
Inflicted by slaine Pandarus; his sweat did so abound,
It much annoid him underneath the brode belt of his shield,
With which, and tired with his toile, his soule could hardly yeeld
His bodie motion. With his hand he lifted up the belt
And wip't away that clotterd blood the fervent wound did melt.
Minerva leand against his horse, and neare their withers laid
Her sacred hand; then spake to him: ‘Beleeve me, Diomed,
Tydeus exampl'd not himselfe in thee his sonne; not Great,
But yet he was a souldier; a man of so much heate
That in his Ambassie for Thebes, when I forbad his mind
To be too ventrous, and when Feasts his heart might have declind
(With which they welcom'd him), he made a challenge to the best,
And foild the best. I gave him aide, because the rust of rest
(That would have seisd another mind) he sufferd not, but usd
The triall I made like a man, and their soft feasts refusd.
Yet when I set thee on, thou faint'st; I guard thee, charge, exhort
That (I abetting thee) thou shouldst be to the Greekes a Fort,
And a dismay to Ilion; yet thou obey'st in nought—
Affraid, or slouthfull, or else both. Henceforth renounce all thought
That ever thou were Tydeus' sonne.’ He answerd her: ‘I know
Thou art Jove's daughter, and for that in all just dutie owe
Thy speeches reverence: yet affirme ingenuously that feare
Doth neither hold me spiritlesse, nor sloth. I onely beare
Thy charge in zealous memorie, that I should never warre
With any blessed Deitie, unlesse (exceeding farre
The limits of her rule) the Queene that governs Chamber sport
Should preasse to field; and her thy will enjoynd my lance to hurt.
But he whose powre hath right in armes I knew in person here
(Besides the Cyprian Deitie) and therefore did forbeare,
And here have gatherd in retreit these other Greekes you see
With note and reverence of your charge.’ ‘My dearest mind,’ said she,
‘What then was fit is chang'd. Tis true, Mars hath just rule in warre,
But just warre; otherwise he raves, not fights. He's alterd farre;
He vow'd to Juno and my selfe that his aide should be usd
Against the Troyans, whom it guards; and therein he abusd
His rule in armes, infring'd his word, and made his warre unjust.
He is inconstant, impious, mad. Resolve then; firmly trust
My aide of thee against his worst, or any Deitie.
Adde scourge to thy free horse, charge home: he fights perfidiously.’
This said, as that brave king, her knight, with his horse-guiding friend
Were set before the chariot (for signe he should descend.
That she might serve for wagonnesse) she pluckt the waggoner backe,
And up into his seate she mounts. The Beechen tree did cracke
Beneath the burthen, and good cause, it bore so huge a thing—
A Goddesse so repleate with powre, and such a puissant king.
She snatcht the scourge up and the reines, and shut her heavenly looke
In hel's vast helme from Mars his eyes: and full careere she tooke
At him, who then had newly slaine the mightie Periphas,
Renown'd sonne to Ochesius, and farre the strongest was
Of all th' Ætolians; to whose spoile the bloodie God was run.
But when this man-plague saw th' approch of God-like Tydeus' sonne,
He let his mightie Periphas lie, and in full charge he ran
At Diomed, and he at him. Both neare, the God began
And (thirstie of his blood) he throwes a brazen lance that beares
Full on the breast of Diomed, above the reines and geres;
But Pallas tooke it on her hand and strooke the eager lance
Beneath the chariot. Then the knight of Pallas doth advance,
And cast a Javeline off at Mars; Minerva sent it on,
That (where his arming girdle girt) his bellie graz'd upon
Just at the rim, and rancht the flesh. The lance againe he got,
But left the wound; that stung him so, he laid out such a throat,
As if nine or ten thousand men had bray'd out all their breaths
In one confusion, having felt as many sodaine deaths.
The rore made both the hosts amaz'd. Up flew the God to heaven,
And with him was through all the aire as blacke a tincture driven
(To Diomed's eyes) as when the earth, halfe chok't with smoking heate
Of gloomie clouds that stifle men and pitchie tempests' threat,
Usherd with horrid gusts of wind; with such blacke vapors plum'd
Mars flew t' Olympus and brode heaven, and there his place resum'd.
Sadly he went and sate by Jove, shew'd his immortall blood
That from a mortall-man-made wound powrd such an impious flood,
And (weeping) powr'd out these complaints: ‘O Father, stormst thou not
To see us take these wrongs from men? Extreme griefes we have got
Even by our owne deepe counsels held for gratifying them;
And thou (our Councel's President) conclud'st in this extreme
Of fighting ever, being ruld by one that thou hast bred,
One never well but doing ill, a girle so full of head
That, though all other Gods obey, her mad moods must command
By thy indulgence, nor by word nor any touch of hand
Correcting her. Thy reason is she is a sparke of thee,
And therefore she may kindle rage in men gainst Gods, and she
May make men hurt Gods, and those Gods that are (besides) thy seed.
First in the palm's height Cyprides, then runs the impious deed
On my hurt person; and could life give way to death in me,
Or had my feete not fetcht me off, heaps of mortalitie
Had kept me consort.’ Jupiter, with a contracted brow,
Thus answerd Mars: ‘Thou many minds, inconstant changling thou,
Sit not complaining thus by me, whom most of all the Gods
(Inhabiting the starrie hill) I hate, no periods
Being set to thy contentions, brawles, fights, and pitching fields,
Just of thy mother Juno's moods, stiffe-neckt and never yeelds,
Though I correct her still and chide, nor can forbeare offence,
Though to her sonne. This wound I know tasts of her insolence.
But I will prove more naturall, thou shalt be cur'd because
Thou com'st of me; but hadst thou bene so crosse to sacred lawes,
Being borne to any other God, thou hadst bene throwne from heaven
Long since as low as Tartarus, beneath the Giants driven.’
This said, he gave his wound in charge to Pæon, who applied
Such soveraigne medicines that as soone the paine was qualified
And he recur'd. As nourishing milke, when runnet is put in,
Runs all in heapes of tough thicke curd, though in his nature thin:
Even so soone his wounds' parted sides ran close in his recure—
For he (all deathlesse) could not long the parts of death endure.
Then Hebe bath'd, and put on him fresh garments, and he sate
Exulting by his Sire againe, in top of all his state.
So (having from the spoiles of men made his desir'd remove)
Juno and Pallas reascend the starrie Court of Jove.