Classic Poem

But lo, Polites, one of Priam's sons,
Escaped from the slaughter of Pyrrhus,
Comes fleeing through the weapons of his foes,
Searching, all wounded, the long galleries
And the void courts; whom Pyrrhus all in rage
Followed fast to reach a mortal wound;
And now in hand, well near strikes with his spear.
Who fleeing forth till he came now in sight
Of his parents, before their face fell down
Yielding the ghost, with flowing streams of blood.
Priamus then, although he were half dead,
Might not keep in his wrath, nor yet his words;
But crieth out: "For this thy wicked work,
And boldness eke such thing to enterprise,
If in the heavens any justice be,
That of such things takes any care or keep,
According thanks the gods may yield to thee;
And send thee eke thy just deserved hire,
That made me see the slaughter of my child,
And with his blood defile the father's face.
But he, by whom thou feign'st thyself begot,
Achilles, was to Priam not so stern.
For lo, he tendering my most humble suit
The right and faith, my Hector's bloodless corpse
Render'd, for to be laid in sepulture,
And sent me to my kingdom home again.'
Thus said the aged man, and therewithal
Forceless he cast his weak unwieldy dart.
Which, repulst from the brass where it gave dint,
Without sound hung vainly in the shieldes boss.
Quod Pyrrhus: "Then thou shalt this thing report:
On message to Pelide my father go:
Show unto him my cruel deeds, and how
Neoptolem is swerved out of kind.
Now shalt thou die,' quod he. And with that word
At the altar him trembling gan he draw
Wallowing through the bloodshed of his son:
And his left hand all clasped in his hair,
With his right arm drew forth his shining sword,
Which in his side he thrust up to the hilt.
Of Priamus this was the fatal fine,
The woeful end that was allotted him,
When he had seen his palace all on flame,
With ruin of his Troyan turrets eke.
That royal prince of Asia, which of late
Reigned over so many peoples and realms,
Like a great stock now lieth on the shore;
His head and shoulders parted been in twain,
A body now without renown and fame.
Then first in me eter'd the grisly fear:
Dismay'd I was. Wherewith came to my mind
The image eke of my dear father, when
I thus beheld the king of equal age
Yield up the sprite with wounds so cruelly.
Then thought I of Creusa left along,
And of my house in danger of the spoil,
And the estate of young Iulus eke.
I looked back to seek what number then
I might discern about me of my feres:
But wearied they had left me all alone.
Some to the ground were lopen from above,
Some in the flame their irked bodies cast.
There was no moe but I left of them all,
When that I saw in Vesta's temple sit
Dame Helen, lurking in a secret place;
Such light the flame did give as I went by
While here and there I cast mine eyen about:
For she in dread lest that the Troians should
Revenge on her the ruin of their walls,
And of the Greeks the cruel wreaks also,
The fury eke of her forsaken make,
The common bane of Troy, and eke of Greece,
Hateful she sat beside the altars hid.
Then boiled my breast with flame, and burning wrath,
To revenge my town, unto such ruin brought;
With worthy pains on her to work my will.
Thought I: "Shall she pass to the land of Sparte
All safe, and see Mycene her native land,
And like a queen return with victory
Home to her spouse, her parents, and children,
Followed with a train of Troyan maids,
And served with a band of Phrygian slaves;
And Priam eke with iron murder'd thus,
And Troye town consumed all with flame,
Whose shore hath been so oft forbathed in blood?
No! no! for though on women the revenge
Unseemly is (such conquest hath no fame),
To give an end unto such mischief yet
My just revenge shall merit worthy praise;
And quiet eke my mind, for to be wroke
On her which was the causer of this flame,
And satisfy the cinder of my feres.'
With furious mind while I did argue thus,
My blessed mother then appear'd to me,
Whom erst so bright mine eyes had never seen,
And with pure light she glistred in the night,
Disclosing her in form a goddess like,
As she doth seem to such as dwell in heaven.
My right hand then she took, and held it fast,
And with her rosy lips thus did she say:
"Son! what fury hath thus provoked thee
To such untamed wrath? what ragest thou?
Or where is now become the care of us?
Wilt thou not first go see where thou hast left
Anchises, thy father fordone with age?
Doth Creusa live, and Ascanius thy son?
Whom now the Greekish bands have round beset,
And were they not defenced by my cure,
Flame had them raught and enemies' sword ere this.
Not Helen's beauty hateful unto thee,
Nor blamed Paris yet, but the gods' wrath
Reft you this wealth, and overthrew your town.
Behold! and I shall now the cloud remove
Which overcast thy mortal sight doth dim,
Whose moisture doth obscure all things about:
And fear not thou to do thy mother's will,
Nor her advice refuse thou to perform.
Here, where thou seest the turrets overthrown,
Stone beat from stone, smoke rising mixt with dust,
Neptunus there shakes with his mace the walls
And eke the loose foundations of the same,
And overwhelms the whole town from his seat:
And cruel Juno with the foremost here
Doth keep the gate that Scea cleped is,
Near woode for wrath, whereas she stands, and calls
In harness bright the Greeks out of their ships:
And in the turrets high behold where stands
Bright shining Pallas, all in warlike weed,
And with her shield, where Gorgon's head appears:
And Jupiter, my father, distributes
Availing strength and courage to the Greeks:
Yet evermore, against the Troyan power
He doth provoke the rest of all the gods.
Flee then, my son, and give this travail end;
Ne shall I thee forsake, in safeguard till
I have thee brought unto thy father's gate.'
This did she say: and therewith gan she hide
Herself in shadow of the close night.
Then dreadful figures gan appear to me,
And great gods eke aggrieved with our town.
I saw Troye fall down in burning gledes,
Neptunus' town clean razed from the soil.
Like as the elm forgrown in mountains high,
Round hewen with axe, that husbandmen
With thick assaults strive to tear up, doth threat;
And hackt beneath trembling doth bend his top,
Till yold with strokes, giving the latter crack,
Rent from the height, with ruin it doth fall.