Iliad

Aurora out of restful bed did from bright Tithon rise,

To bring each deathless Essence light, and use to mortal eyes;

When Jove sent Eris to the Greeks, sustaining in her hand

Stern signs of her designs for war. She took her horrid stand

Upon Ulysses' huge black bark, that did at anchor ride

Amidst the fleet, from whence her sounds might ring on ev'ry side,

Both to the tents of Telamon, and th' author of their smarts,

Who held, for fortitude and force, the navy's utmost parts.

The red-ey'd Goddess, seated there, thunder'd the Orthian song,

High, and with horror, through the ears of all the Grecian throng,

Her verse with spirits invincible did all their breasts inspire,

Blew out all darkness from their limbs, and set their hearts on fire;

And presently was bitter war more sweet a thousand times,

Than any choice in hollow keels to greet their native climes.

Atrides summon'd all to arms, to arms himself dispos'd,

First on his legs he put bright greaves, with silver buttons clos'd;

Then with rich curace arm'd his breast, which Cinyras bestow'd

To gratify his royal guest; for ev'n to Cyprus flowed

Th' unbounded fame of those designs the Greeks propos'd for Troy,

And therefore gave he him those arms, and wish'd his purpose joy.

Ten rows of azure mix'd with black, twelve golden like the sun,

Twice-ten of tin, in beaten paths, did through this armour run.

Three serpents to the gorget crept, that like three rainbows shin'd,

Such as by Jove are fix'd in clouds, when wonders are divin'd.

About his shoulders hung his sword, whereof the hollow hilt

Was fashion'd all with shining bars, exceeding richly gilt;

The scabbard was of silver plate, with golden hangers grac'd.

Then he took up his weighty shield, that round about him cast

Defensive shadows; ten bright zones of gold-affecting brass

Were driv'n about it; and of tin, as full of gloss as glass,

Swell'd twenty bosses out of it; in centre of them all

One of black metal had engrav'n, full of extreme appall,

An ugly Gorgon, compasséd with Terror and with Fear.

At it a silver bawdrick hung, with which he us'd to bear,

Wound on his arm, his ample shield; and in it there was wov'n

An azure dragon, curl'd in folds, from whose one neck was clov'n

Three heads contorted in an orb. Then plac'd he on his head

His four-plum'd casque; and in his hands two darts he managéd,

Arm'd with bright steel that blaz'd to heav'n. Then Juno, and the Maid

That conquers empires, trumpets serv'd to summon out their aid

In honour of the General, and on a sable cloud,

To bring them furious to the field, sat thund'ring out aloud.

Then all enjoin'd their charioteers, to rank their chariot horse

Close to the dike. Forth march'd the foot, whose front they did r'enforce

With some horse troops. The battle then was all of charioteers,

Lin'd with light horse. But Jupiter disturb'd this form with fears,

And from air's upper region bid bloody vapours rain,

For sad ostent much noble life should ere their times be slain.

The Trojan host at Ilus' tomb 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, unmarried Acamas

Proportion'd like the States of heav'n. In front of all the field,

Troy's great Priamides did bear his all-ways-equal shield,

Still plying th' ord'ring of his pow'r. And as amids the sky

We sometimes see an ominous star blaze clear and dreadfully,

Then run his golden head in clouds, and straight appear again;

So Hector otherwhiles did grace the vaunt-guard, shining plain,

Then in the rear-guard hid himself, and labour'd ev'rywhere

To order and encourage all; his armour was so clear,

And he applied each place so fast, that, like a lightning thrown

Out of the shield of Jupiter, in ev'ry eye he shone.

And as upon a rich man's crop of barley or of wheat,

Oppos'd for swiftness at their work, a sort of reaper's sweat,

Bear down the furrows speedily, and thick their handfuls fall;

So at the joining of the hosts ran slaughter through them all,

None stoop'd to any fainting thought of foul inglorious flight,

But equal bore they up their heads, and far'd like wolves in fight.

Stern Eris, with such weeping sights, rejoic'd to feed her eyes,

Who only show'd herself in field, of all the Deities;

The other in Olympus' tops sat silent, and repined

That Jove to do the Trojans grace should bear so fix'd a mind.

He car'd not, but, enthron'd apart, triumphant sat in sway

Of his free pow'r, and from his seat took pleasure to display

The city so adorn'd with tow'rs, the sea with vessels fill'd,

The splendour of refulgent arms, the killer and the kill'd.

As long as bright Aurora rul'd, and sacred day increas'd,

So long their darts made mutual wounds, and neither had the best;

But when, in hill-environ'd vales, the timber-feller takes

A sharp set stomach to his meat, and dinner ready makes,

His sinews 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 Trojan ranks, and cheer'd

Their gen'ral squadrons through the host; then first of all appear'd

The person of the king himself; and then the Trojans lost

Bianor by his royal charge, a leader in the host.

Who being slain, his charioteer, Oïleus, did alight,

And stood in skirmish with the king; the king did deadly smite

His forehead with his eager lance, and through his helm it ran,

Enforcing passage to his brain, quite through the harden'd pan,

His brain mix'd with his clotter'd blood, his body strew'd the ground.

There left he them, and presently he other objects found;

Isus and Antiphus, two sons King Priam did beget,

One lawful, th' other wantonly. Both in one chariot met

Their royal foe; the baser born, Isus, was charioteer,

And famous Antiphus did fight; both which king Peleus' heir,

Whilome in Ida keeping flocks, did deprehend and bind

With pliant osiers, and, for price, them to their sire resign'd.

Atrides, with his well-aim'd lance, smote Isus on the breast

Above the nipple; and his sword a mortal wound impress'd

Beneath the ear of Antiphus; down from their horse they fell.

The king had seen the youths before, and now did know them well,

Rememb'ring them the prisoners of swift Æacides,

Who brought them to the sable fleet from Ida's foody 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 joints snatch'd in his solid jaws, and crusheth into mist

Their tender lives; their dam, though near, not able to resist,

But shook with vehement fear herself, flies through the oaken chace

From that fell savage, drown'd in sweat, and seeks some covert place;

So when with most unmatched strength the Grecian Gen'ral bent

'Gainst these two princes, none durst aid their native king's descent,

But fled themselves before the Greeks. And where these two were slain,

Pisander and Hippolochus (not able to restrain

Their headstrong horse, the silken reins being from their hands let fall)

Were brought by their unruly guides before the General.

Antimachus begat them both, Antimachus that took

Rich gifts, and gold, of Helen's love, and would by no means brook

Just restitution should be made of Menelaus' wealth,

Bereft him, with his ravish'd queen, by Alexander's stealth.

Atrides, lion-like, did charge his sons, who on their knees

Fell from their chariot, and besought regard to their degrees,

Who, being Antimachus's sons, their father would afford

A worthy ransom for their lives, who in his house did hoard

Much hidden treasure, brass, and gold, and steel, wrought wondrous choice.

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 stay'd the honourable deed

The other peers of Ilion in council had decreed,

To render Helen and her wealth; and would have basely slain

My brother and wise Ithacus, ambassadors t' attain

The most due motion; now receive wreak for his shameful part.”

This said, in poor Pisander's breast he fix'd his wreakful dart,

Who upward spread th' oppresséd earth; his brother crouch'd for dread,

And, as he lay, the angry king cut off his arms and head,

And let him like a football lie for ev'ry man to spurn.

Then to th' extremest heat of fight he did his valour turn,

And led a multitude of Greeks, where foot did foot subdue,

Horse slaughter'd horse, Need feather'd flight, the batter'd centre flew

In clouds of dust about their ears, raised from the horses' hooves,

That beat a thunder out of earth as horrible as Jove's.

The king, persuading speedy chace, gave his persuasions way

With his own valour, slaught'ring still. As in a stormy day

In thick-set woods a rav'nous fire wraps in his fierce repair

The shaken trees, and by the roots doth toss them into air;

Ev'n so beneath Atrides' sword flew up Troy's flying heels,

Their horse drew empty chariots, and sought their thund'ring wheels

Some fresh directors through the field, where least the púrsuit drives.

Thick fell the Trojans, 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 firm to the púrsuit stood,

Till at old Ilus' monument, in midst of all the field,

They reach'd the wild fig-tree, and long'd to make their town their shield.

Yet there they rested not; the king still cried, 'Pursue! Pursue!'

And all his unreprovéd hands did blood and dust imbrue.

But when they came to Scæa's ports, and to the beech of Jove,

There made they stand; there ev'ry eye, fixed on each other, strove

Who should outlook his mate amaz'd; through all the field they fled.

And as a lion, when the night becomes most deaf and dead,

Invades ox-herds, affrighting all, that he of one may wreak

His dreadful hunger, and his neck he first of all doth break,

Then laps his blood and entrails up; so Agamemnon plied

The manage of the Trojan chace, and still the last man died,

The other fled, a number fell by his imperial hand,

Some grovelling downwards from their horse, some upwards strew'd the sand.

High was the fury of his lance. But, having beat them close

Beneath their walls, the both worlds' Sire did now again repose

On fountain-flowing Ida's tops, being newly slid from heav'n,

And held a lightning in his hand; from thence this charge was giv'n

To Iris with the golden wings: “Thaumantia, fly,” said he,

“And tell Troy's Hector, that as long as he enrag'd shall see

The soldier-loving Atreus' son amongst the foremost fight,

Depopulating troops of men, so long he must excite

Some other to resist the foe, and he no arms advance;

But when he wounded takes his horse, attain'd with shaft or lance,

Then will I fill his arm with death, ev'n till he reach the fleet,

And peaceful night treads busy day beneath her sacred feet.”

The wind-foot swift Thaumantia obey'd, and us'd her wings

To famous Ilion, from the mount enchas'd with silver springs,

And found in his bright chariot the hardy Trojan knight,

To whom she spake the words of Jove, and vanish'd from his sight.

He leapt upon the sounding earth, and shook his lengthful dart,

And ev'rywhere he breath'd exhorts, and stirr'd up ev'ry heart.

A dreadful fight he set on foot. His soldiers straight turn'd head.

The Greeks stood firm. In both the hosts, the field was perfected.

But Agamemnon, foremost still, did all his side exceed,

And would not be the first in name unless the first in deed.

Now sing, fair Presidents of verse, that in the heav'ns embow'r,

Who first encounter'd with the king, of all the adverse pow'r.

Iphidamas, Antenor's son, ample and bigly set,

Brought up in pasture-springing Thrace, that doth soft sheep beget,

In grave Cisseus' noble house, that was his mother's sire,

Fair Theano; and when his breast was heighten'd with the fire

Of gaysome youth, his grandsire gave his daughter to his love.

Who straight his bridal-chamber left. Fame with affection strove,

And made him furnish twelve fair ships, to lend fair Troy his hand.

His ships he in Percope left, and came to Troy by land.

And now he tried the fame of Greece, encount'ring with the king,

Who threw his royal lance and miss'd. Iphidamas did fling,

And strook him on the arming waist, beneath his coat of brass,

Which forc'd him stay upon his arm, so violent it was,

Yet pierc'd it not his well-wrought zone, but when the lazy head

Tried hardness with his silver waist, it turn'd again like lead.

He follow'd, grasping the ground end, but with a lion's wile

That wrests away a hunter's staff, he caught it by the pile,

And pluck'd it from the caster's hand, whom with his sword he strook

Beneath the ear, and with his wound his timeless death he took.

He fell and slept an iron sleep; wretched young man, he died,

Far from his newly-married wife, in aid of foreign pride,

And saw no pleasure of his love; yet was her jointure great,

An hundred oxen gave he her, and vow'd in his retreat

Two thousand head of sheep and goats, 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 form might feast an amorous eye,

And elder brother of the slain) beheld this tragedy,

Deep sorrow sat upon his eyes, and (standing laterally,

And to the Gen'ral undiscern'd) his jav'lin he let fly,

That 'twixt his elbow and his wrist transfix'd his armless arm;

The bright head shin'd on th' other side. The unexpected harm

Impress'd some horror in the king; yet so he ceas'd not fight,

But rush'd on Coon with his lance, who made what haste he might,

Seizing his slaughter'd brother's foot, to draw him from the field,

And call'd the ablest to his aid, when under his round shield

The king's brass jav'lin, as he drew, did strike him helpless dead;

Who made Iphidamas the block, and cut off Coon's head.

Thus under great Atrides' arm Antenor's issue thriv'd,

And, to suffice precisest fate, to Pluto's mansion div'd.

He with his lance, sword, mighty stones, pour'd his heroic wreak

On other squadrons of the foe, whiles yet warm blood did break

Through his cleft veins; but when the wound was quite exhaust and crude,

The eager anguish did approve his princely fortitude.

As when most sharp and bitter pangs distract a labouring dame,

Which the divine Ilithyæ, that rule the painful frame

Of human child-birth, pour on her; th' Ilithyæ that are

The daughters of Saturnia; with whose extreme repair

The woman in her travail strives to take the worst it gives,

With thought it must be, 'tis love's fruit, the end for which she lives,

The mean to make herself new born, what comforts will redound;

So Agamemnon did sustain the torment of his wound.

Then took he chariot, and to fleet bad haste his charioteer,

But first pour'd out his highest voice to purchase ev'ry ear:

“Princes and leaders of the Greeks, brave friends, now from our fleet

Do you expel this boist'rous sway. Jove will not let me meet

Illustrate Hector, nor give leave that I shall end the day

In fight against the Ilion pow'r; my wound is in my way.”

This said, his ready charioteer did scourge his spriteful horse,

That freely to the sable fleet perform'd their fi'ry course.

To bear their wounded sovereign apart the martial thrust,

Sprinkling their pow'rful breasts with foam, and snowing on the dust.

When Hector heard of his retreat, thus he for fame contends:

“Trojans, Dardanians, Lycians, all my close-fighting friends,

Think what it is to be renown'd, be soldiers all of name,

Our strongest enemy is gone, Jove vows to do us fame,

Then in the Grecian faces drive your one-hoof'd violent steeds,

And far above their best be best, and glorify your deeds.”

Thus as a dog-giv'n hunter sets upon a brace of boars

His white-tooth'd hounds, puffs, shouts, breathes terms, and on his emprese pours

All his wild art to make them pinch; so Hector urg'd his host

To charge the Greeks, and, he himself most bold and active most,

He brake into the heat of fight, as when a tempest raves,

Stoops from the clouds, and all on heaps doth cuff the purple waves.

Who then was first, and last, he kill'd, when Jove did grace his deed?

Assæus, and Autonous, Opys, and Clytus' seed

Prince Dolops, and the honour'd sire of sweet Euryalus

Opheltes, Agelaus next, and strong Hipponous,

Orus, Æsymnus, all of name. The common soldiers fell,

As when the hollow flood of air in Zephyr's cheeks doth swell,

And sparseth all the gather'd clouds white Notus' pow'r did draw,

Wraps waves in waves, hurls up the froth beat with a vehement flaw;

So were the common soldiers wrack'd in troops by Hector's hand.

Then ruin had enforc'd such works as no Greeks could withstand,

Then in their fleet they had been hous'd, had not Laertes' son

Stirr'd up the spirit of Diomed, with this impression:

“Tydides, what do we sustain, forgetting what we are?

Stand by me, dearest in my love. 'Twere horrible impair

For our two valours to endure a customary flight,

To leave our navy still engag'd, and but by fits to fight.”

He answer'd: “I am bent to stay, and anything sustain;

But our delight to prove us men will prove but short and vain,

For Jove makes Trojans instruments, and virtually then

Wields arms himself. Our cross affairs are not 'twixt men and men.”

This said, Thymbræus with his lance he tumbled from his horse,

Near his left nipple wounding him. Ulysses did enforce

Fair Molion, minion to this king that Diomed subdu'd.

Both sent they thence till they return'd, who now the king pursu'd

And furrow'd through the thicken'd troops. As when two chaséd boars

Turn head 'gainst kennels of bold hounds, and race way through their gores;

So, turn'd from flight, the forward kings show'd Trojans backward death.

Nor fled the Greeks, but by their wills, to get great Hector breath.

Then took they horse and chariot from two bold city foes,

Merops Percosius' mighty sons. 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'd their tragedies.

Tydides slew them with his lance, and made their arms his prise.

Hypirochus, and Hippodus, Ulysses reft of light.

But Jove, that out of Ida look'd, then equalis'd the fight,

A Grecian for a Trojan then paid tribute to the Fates.

Yet royal Diomed slew one, ev'n in those even debates,

That was of name more than the rest, Pæon's renownéd son,

The prince Agastrophus; his lance into his hip did run;

His squire detain'd his horse apart, that hinder'd him to fly,

Which he repented at his heart, yet did his feet apply

His 'scape with all the speed they had alongst the foremost bands,

And there his lovéd life dissolv'd. This Hector understands,

And rush'd with clamour on the king, right soundly seconded

With troops of Trojans. Which perceiv'd by famous Diomed,

The deep conceit of Jove's high will stiffen'd his royal hair,

Who spake to near-fought Ithacus: “The fate of this affair

Is bent to us. Come let us stand, and bound his violence.”

Thus threw he his long jav'lin forth, which smote his head's defence

Full on the top, yet pierc'd no skin; brass took repulse with brass;

His helm (with three folds made, and sharp) the gift of Phœbus was.

The blow made Hector take the troop, sunk him upon his hand,

And strook him blind. The king pursu'd before the foremost band

His dart's recov'ry, which he found laid on the purple plain;

By which time Hector was reviv'd, and, taking horse again,

Was far commix'd within his strength, and fled his darksome grave.

He follow'd with his thirsty lance, and this elusive brave:

“Once more be thankful to thy heels, proud dog, for thy escape.

Mischief sat near thy bosom now; and now another rape

Hath thy Apollo made of thee, to whom thou well mayst pray,

When through the singing of our darts thou find'st such guarded way.

But I shall meet with thee at length, and bring thy latest hour,

If with like favour any God be fautour of my pow'r.

Meanwhile some other shall repay, what I suspend in thee.”

This said, he set the wretched soul of Pæon's issue free,

Whom his late wound not fully slew. But Priam's amorous birth

Against Tydides bent his bow, hid with a hill of earth,

Part of the ruinated tomb for honour'd Ilus built,

And as the curace of the slain, engrav'n and richly gilt,

Tydides from his breast had spoil'd, and from his shoulders raft

His target and his solid helm, he shot, and his keen shaft

(That never flew from him in vain) did nail unto the ground

The king's right foot; the spleenful knight laugh'd sweetly at the wound,

Crept from his covert, and triumph'd: “Now art thou maim'd,” said he,

“And would to God my happy hand had so much honour'd me

To have infix'd it in thy breast, as deep as in thy foot,

Ev'n to th' expulsure of thy soul! Then blest had been my shoot

Of all the Trojans; who had then breath'd from their long unrests.

Who fear thee, as the braying goats abhor the king of beasts.”

Undaunted Diomed replied: “You braver with your bow,

You slick-hair'd lover, you that hunt and fleer at wenches so,

Durst thou but stand in arms with me, thy silly archery

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 touch'd my foot. A coward's steel hath never any edge.

But mine, t' assure it sharp, still lays dead carcasses in pledge;

Touch it, it renders lifeless straight, it strikes the fingers' ends

Of hapless widows in their cheeks, and children blind of friends.

The subject of it makes earth red, and air with sighs inflames,

And leaves limbs more embrac'd with birds than with enamour'd dames.”

Lance-fam'd Ulysses now came in, and stept before the king,

Kneel'd opposite, and drew the shaft. The eager pain did sting

Through all his body. Straight he took his royal chariot there,

And with direction to the fleet did charge his charioteer.

Now was Ulysses desolate, fear made no friend remain,

He thus spake to his mighty mind: “What doth my state sustain?

If I should fly this odds in fear, that thus comes clust'ring on,

'Twere high dishonour; yet 'twere worse, to be surpris'd alone.

'Tis Jove that drives the rest to fight; but that's a faint excuse.

Why do I tempt my mind so much? Pale cowards fight refuse.

He that affects renown in war must like a rock be fix'd,

Wound, or be wounded. Valour's truth puts no respect betwixt.”

In this contention with himself, in flew the shady bands

Of targeteers, who sieg'd him round with mischief-filléd hands.

As when a crew of gallants watch the wild muse of a boar,

Their dogs put after in full cry, he rusheth on before,

Whets, with his lather-making jaws, his crookéd tusks for blood,

And, holding firm his usual haunts, breaks through the deepen'd wood,

They charging, though his hot approach be never so abhorr'd;

So, to assail the Jove-lov'd Greek, the Ilians did accord,

And he made through them. First he hurt, upon his shoulder blade,

Deiops, a blameless man at arms; then sent to endless shade

Thoon and Eunomus; and strook the strong Chersidamas,

As from his chariot he leap'd down, beneath his targe of brass;

Who fell, and crawl'd upon the earth with his sustaining palms,

And left the fight. Nor yet his lance left dealing martial alms,

But Socus' brother by both sides, young Carops, did impress.

Then princely Socus to his aid made brotherly access,

And, coming near, spake in his charge: “O great Laertes' son,

Insatiate in sly stratagems, and labours never done,

This hour, or thou shalt boast to kill the two Hippasides

And prise their arms, or fall thyself in my resolv'd access.”

This said, he threw quite through his shield his fell and well-driv'n lance,

Which held way through his curaces, and on his ribs did glance,

Plowing the flesh alongst his sides; but Pallas did repel

All inward passage to his life. Ulysses, knowing well

The wound undeadly (setting back his foot to form his stand)

Thus spake to Socus: “O thou wretch, thy death is in this hand,

That stay'st my victory on Troy, and where thy charge was made

In doubtful terms (or this or that) this shall thy life invade.”

This frighted Socus to retreat, and, in his faint reverse,

The lance betwixt his shoulders fell, and through his breast did perse,

Down fell he sounding, and the king thus play'd with his mis-ease:

“O Socus, you that make by birth the two Hippasides,

Now may your house and you perceive death can outfly the flyer.

Ah wretch! thou canst not 'scape my vows. Old Hippasus thy sire,

Nor thy well-honour'd 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 tomb my corse with all their obsequies.”

Now from his body and his shield the violent lance he drew,

That princely Socus had infix'd; which drawn, a crimson dew

Fell from his bosom on the earth; the wound did dare him sore.

And when the furious Trojans saw Ulysses' forcéd gore,

Encouraging themselves in gross, all his destruction vow'd.

Then he retir'd, and summon'd aid. Thrice shouted he aloud,

As did denote a man engag'd. Thrice Menelaus' ear

Observ'd his aid-suggesting voice, and Ajax being near,

He told him of Ulysses' shouts, as if he were enclos'd

From all assistance, and advis'd their aids might be dispos'd

Against the ring that circled him, lest, charg'd with troops alone,

(Though valiant) he might be oppress'd, 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 bloody lucerns cling

About a goodly-palméd hart, hurt with a hunter's bow,

Whose 'scape his nimble feet enforce, whilst his warm blood doth flow,

And his light knees have pow'r to move; but, master'd of his wound,

Emboss'd within a shady hill, the lucerns charge him round,

And tear his flesh; when instantly fortune sends in the pow'rs

Of some stern lion, with whose sight they fly, and he devours;

So charged the Ilians Ithacus, many and mighty men.

But then made Menelaus in, and horrid Ajax then,

Bearing a target like a tow'r, close was his violent stand,

And every way the foe dispers'd, when, by the royal hand,

Kind Menelaus led away the hurt Laertes' son,

Till his fair squire had brought his horse. Victorious Telamon

Still plied the foe, and put to sword a young Priamides,

Doryclus, Priam's bastard son; then did his lance impress

Pandocus, and strong Pirasus, Lysander and Palertes.

As when a torrent from the hills, swoln with Saturnian show'rs,

Falls on the fields, bears blasted oaks, and wither'd rosin flow'rs,

Loose weeds, and all disperséd filth, into the ocean's force;

So matchless Ajax beat the field, and slaughter'd men and horse.

Yet had not Hector heard of this, who fought on the left wing

Of all the host, near those sweet herbs Scamander's flood doth spring,

Where many foreheads trod the ground, and where the skirmish burn'd

Near Nestor and king Idomen, where Hector over turn'd

The Grecian squadrons, authoring high service with his lance,

And skilful manage of his horse. Nor yet the discrepance

He made in death betwixt the hosts had made the Greeks retire,

If fair-hair'd Helen's second spouse had not repress'd the fire

Of bold Machaon's fortitude, who with a three-fork'd 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 near him, take him in, and bear him to their tents.

A surgeon is to be preferr'd, with physic ornaments,

Before a multitude; his life gives hurt lives native bounds,

With sweet inspersion of fit balms, and perfect search of wounds.

Thus spake the royal Idomen. Neleides obey'd,

And to his chariot presently the wounded Greek convey'd,

The son of Æsculapius, the great physician.

To fleet they flew. Cebriones perceiv'd the slaughter done

By Ajax on the other troops, and spake to Hector thus:

“Whiles we encounter Grecians here, stern Telamonius

Is yonder raging, turning up in heaps our horse and men;

I know him by his spacious shield. Let us turn chariot then,

Where, both of horse and foot, the fight most hotly is propos'd,

In mutual slaughters. Hark, their throats from cries are never clos'd.”

This said, with his shrill scourge he strook the horse, that fast ensu'd

Stung with his lashes, tossing shields, and carcasses imbru'd.

The chariot tree was drown'd in blood, and th' arches by the seat

Disperpled from the horses' hoofs, and from the wheel bands beat.

Great Hector long'd to break the ranks, and startle their close fight,

Who horribly amaz'd the Greeks, and plied their sudden fright

With busy weapons, ever wing'd; his lance, sword, weighty stones.

Yet charg'd he other leader's hands, not dreadful Telamon's;

With whom he wisely shunn'd foul blows. But Jove (that weighs above

All human pow'rs) to Ajax' breast divine repressions drove,

And made him shun who shunn'd himself; he ceas'd from fight amaz'd,

Cast on his back his sev'n-fold shield, and round about him gaz'd

Like one turn'd wild, look'd on himself in his distract retreat,

Knee before knee did scarcely move. As when from herds of neat,

Whole threaves of boors and mongrels chase a lion skulking near,

Loth he should taint the well-prized fat of any stall-fed steer,

Consuming all the night in watch, he, greedy of his prey,

Oft thrusting on is oft thrust off, so thick the jav'lins play

On his bold charges, and so hot the burning fire-brands shine,

Which he (though horrible) abhors, about his glowing eyne,

And early his great heart retires; so Ajax from the foe,

For fear their fleet should be inflam'd, 'gainst his swoln heart did go.

As when a dull mill ass comes near a goodly field of corn,

Kept from the birds by children's cries, the boys are overborne

By his insensible approach, and simply he will eat;

About whom many wands are broke, and still the children beat,

And still the self-providing ass doth with their weakness bear,

Not stirring till his paunch be full, and scarcely then will steer;

So the huge son of Telamon amongst the Trojans far'd,

Bore show'rs of darts upon his shield, yet scorn'd to fly as scar'd,

And so kept softly on his way; nor would he mend his pace

For all their violent pursuits, that still did arm the chace

With singing lances. But, at last, when their cur-like presumes

More urg'd the more forborne, his spirits did rarify their fumes,

And he revok'd his active strength, turn'd head, and did repell

The horse-troops that were new made in, 'twixt whom the fight grew fell;

And by degrees he stole retreat, yet with such puissant stay

That none could pass him to the fleet. In both the armies' sway

He stood, and from strong hands receiv'd sharp jav'lins on his shield,

Where many stuck, thrown on before, many fell short in field,

Ere the white body they could reach, and stuck, as telling how

They purpos'd to have pierc'd his flesh. His peril piercéd now

The eyes of prince Eurypylus, Evemon's famous son,

Who came close on, and with his dart strook duke Apisaon,

Whose surname was Phausiades, ev'n to the concrete blood

That makes the liver; on the earth, out gush'd his vital flood.

Eurypylus made in, and eas'd his shoulders of his arms;

Which Paris seeing, he drew his bow, and wreak'd in part the harms

Of his good friend Phausiades, his arrow he let fly

That smote Eurypylus, and brake in his attainted thigh;

Then took he troop to shun black death, and to the flyers cried:

“Princes, and leaders of the Greeks, stand, and repulse the tide

Of this our honour-wracking chace. Ajax is drown'd in darts,

I fear past 'scape; turn, honour'd friends, help out his vent'rous parts.”

Thus spake the wounded Greek; the sound cast on their backs their shields,

And rais'd their darts; to whose relief Ajax his person wields.

Then stood he firmly with his friends, retiring their retire.

And thus both hosts indiff'rent join'd, the fight grew hot as fire.

Now had Neleides' sweating steeds brought him, and his hurt friend,

Amongst their fleet. Æacides, that wishly did intend,

Standing astern his tall-neck'd ship, how deep 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 form celestial,

Came forth with first sound of his voice, first spring of his decay,

And ask'd his princely friend's desire. “Dear friend,” said he, “this day

I doubt not will enforce the Greeks, to swarm about my knees;

I see unsuffer'd need employ'd in their extremities.

Go, sweet Patroclus, and inquire of old Neleides

Whom he brought wounded from the fight; by his back parts I guess

It is Machaon, but his face I could not well descry,

They pass'd me in such earnest speed.” Patroclus presently

Obey'd his friend, and ran to know. They now descended were,

And Nestor's squire, Eurymedon, the horses did ungear;

Themselves stood near th' extremest shore, to let the gentle air

Dry up their sweat; then to the tent where Hecamed the fair

Set chairs, and for the wounded prince a potion did prepare.

This Hecamed, by war's hard fate, fell to old Nestor's share,

When Thetis' son sack'd Tenedos; she was the princely seed

Of worthy king Arsinous, and by the Greeks decreed

The prise of Nestor, since all men in counsel he surpass'd.

First, a fair table she appos'd, of which the feet were grac'd

With bluish metal mix'd with black; and on the same she put

A brass fruit-dish, in which she serv'd a wholesome onion cut

For pittance to the potion, and honey newly wrought,

And bread, the fruit of sacred meal. Then to the board she brought

A right fair cup with gold studs driv'n, which Nestor did transfer

From Pylos; on whose swelling sides four handles fixéd were,

And upon ev'ry handle sat a pair of doves of gold,

Some billing, and some pecking meat; two gilt feet did uphold

The antique body; and withal so weighty was the cup

That, being propos'd brimful of wine, one scarce could lift it up,

Yet Nestor drunk in it with ease, spite of his years' respect.

In this the goddess-like fair dame a potion did confect

With good old wine of Pramnius, and scrap'd into the wine

Cheese made of goat's milk, and on it spers'd flour exceeding fine.

In this sort for the wounded lord the potion she prepar'd,

And bad him drink. For company, with him old Nestor shar'd.

Thus physically quench'd they thirst, and then their spirits reviv'd

With pleasant conference. And now Patroclus, being arriv'd,

Made stay at th' entry of the tent. Old Nestor, seeing it,

Rose, and receiv'd him by the hand, and fain would have him sit.

He set that courtesy aside, excusing it with haste,

Since his much-to-be-rev'renced 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 fi'ry temper will inflame sometimes with innocence.”

He answer'd: “When will Peleus' son some royal pity show

On his thus wounded countrymen? Ah! is he yet to know

How much affliction tires our host? How our especial aid,

Tainted with lances, at their tents are miserably laid?

Ulysses, Diomed, our king, Eurypylus, Machaon,

All hurt, and all our worthiest friends; yet no compassion

Can supple thy friend's friendless breast! Doth he reserve his eye

Till our fleet burn, and we ourselves one after other die?

Alas, my forces are not now as in my younger life.

Oh would to God I had that strength I uséd in the strife

Betwixt us and the Elians, for oxen to be driv'n,

When Itymonius' lofty soul was by my valour giv'n

As sacrifice to destiny, Hypirochus' strong son,

That dwelt in Elis, and fought first in our contention!

We forag'd, as proclaiméd foes, a wondrous wealthy boot,

And he, in rescue of his herds, fell breathless at my foot.

All the dorp boors with terror fled. Our prey was rich and great;

Twice five and twenty flocks of sheep; as many herds of neat;

As many goats, and nasty swine; an hundred fifty mares,

All sorrel, most with sucking foals. And these soon-monied wares

We drave into Neleius' town, fair Pylos, all by night.

My father's heart was glad to see so much good fortune quite

The forward mind of his young son, that us'd my youth in deeds,

And would not smother it in moods. Now drew the Sun's bright steeds

Light from the hills; our heralds now accited all that were

Endamag'd by the Elians; our princes did appear;

Our boot was parted; many men th' Epeians much did owe,

That, being our neighbours, they did spoil; afflictions did so flow

On us poor Pylians, though but few. In brake great Hercules

To our sad confines of late years, and wholly did suppress

Our hapless princes. Twice-six Sons renown'd Neleius bred,

Only myself am left of all, the rest subdu'd and dead.

And this was it that made so proud the base Epeian bands,

On their near neighbours, being oppress'd, to lay injurious hands.

A herd of oxen for himself, a mighty flock of sheep,

My sire selected, and made choice of shepherds for their keep;

And from the gen'ral spoil he cull'd three hundred of the best.

The Elians ought him infinite, most plagu'd of all the rest.

Four wager-winning horse he lost, and chariots intervented,

Being led to an appointed race; the prize that was presented

Was a religious three-foot urn; Augeas was the king

That did detain them, and dismiss'd their keeper sorrowing

For his lov'd charge lost with foul words. Then both for words and deeds

My sire being worthily incens'd, thus justly he proceeds

To satisfaction, in first choice of all our wealthy prise;

And, as he shar'd much, much he left his subjects to suffice,

That none might be oppress'd with pow'r, or want his portion due.

Thus for the public good we shar'd. Then we to temples drew

Our cómplete city, and to heav'n we thankful rites did burn

For our rich conquest. The third day ensuing our return

The Elians flew on us in heaps; their gen'ral leaders were

The two Moliones, two boys, untrainéd in the fear

Of horrid war, or use of strength. A certain city shines

Upon a lofty prominent, and in th' extreme confines

Of sandy Pylos, seated where Alpheus' flood doth run,

And call'd Thryessa; this they sieg'd, and gladly would have won,

But, having pass'd through all our fields, Minerva as our spy

Fell from Olympus in the night, and arm'd us instantly;

Nor muster'd she unwilling men, nor unprepar'd for force.

My sire yet would not let me arm, but hid away my horse,

Esteeming me no soldier yet; yet shin'd I nothing less

Amongst our gallants, though on foot; Minerva's mightiness

Led me to fight, and made me bear a soldier's worthy name.

There is a flood falls into sea, and his crook'd course doth frame

Close to Arena, and is call'd bright Minyæus' stream.

There made we halt, and there the sun cast many a glorious beam

On our bright armours, horse and foot insea'd together there.

Then march'd we on. By fi'ry noon we saw the sacred clear

Of great Alpheus, where to Jove we did fair sacrifice;

And to the azure God, that rules the under-liquid skies,

We offer'd up a solemn bull; a bull t' Alpheus' name;

And to the blue-ey'd Maid we burn'd a heifer never tame.

Now was it night; we supp'd and slept, about the flood, in arms.

The foe laid hard siege to our town, and shook it with alarms,

But, for prevention of their spleens, a mighty work of war

Appear'd behind them; for as soon as Phœbus' fi'ry car

Cast night's foul darkness from his wheels (invoking rev'rend Jove,

And the unconquer'd Maid his birth) we did th' event approve,

And gave them battle. First of all, I slew (the army saw)

The mighty soldier Mulius, Augeas' son-in-law,

And spoil'd him of his one hoof'd horse; his eldest daughter was

Bright Agamede, that for skill in simples did surpass,

And knew as many kind of drugs, as earth's broad centre bred.

Him charg'd I with my brass-arm'd lance, the dust receiv'd him dead.

I, leaping to his chariot, amongst the foremost press'd,

And the great-hearted Elians fled frighted, seeing their best

And loftiest soldier taken down, the gen'ral of their horse.

I follow'd like a black whirlwind, and did for prise enforce

Full fifty chariots, ev'ry one furnish'd with two arm'd men,

Who ate the earth, slain with my lance. And I had slaughter'd then

The two young boys, Moliones, if their world-circling sire,

Great Neptune, had not saft their lives, and cover'd their retire

With unpierc'd clouds. Then Jove bestow'd a haughty victory

Upon us Pylians; for so long we did the chace apply,

Slaught'ring and making spoil of arms, till sweet Buprasius' soil,

Alesius, and Olenia, were fam'd with our recoil;

For there Minerva turn'd our pow'r, and there the last I slew

As, when our battle join'd, the first. The Pylians then withdrew

To Pylas from Buprasius. Of all th' Immortals then,

They most thank'd Jove for victory; Nestor the most of men.

Such was I ever, if I were employ'd with other peers,

And I had honour of my youth, which dies not in my years.

And great Achilles only joys hability of act

In his brave prime, and doth not deign t' impart it where 'tis lack'd.

No doubt he will extremely mourn, long after that black hour

Wherein our ruin shall be brought, and rue his ruthless pow'r,

O friend! my memory revives the charge Menœtius gave

Thy towardness, when thou sett'st forth, to keep out of the grave

Our wounded honour. I myself and wise Ulysses were

Within the room, where ev'ry word then spoken we did hear,

For we were come to Peleus' court, as we did must'ring pass

Through rich Achaia, where thy sire, Menœtius, was,

Thyself and great Æacides, when Peleüs the king

To thunder-loving Jove did burn an ox for offering,

In his court-yard. A cup of gold, crown'd with red wine, he held

On th' holy incensory pour'd. You, when the ox was fell'd,

Were dressing his divided limbs; we in the portal stood.

Achilles seeing us come so near, his honourable blood

Was strook with a respective shame, rose, took us by the hands,

Brought us both in, and made us sit, and us'd his kind commands

For seemly hospitable rites, which quickly were appos'd.

Then, after needfulness of food, I first of all disclos'd

The royal cause of our repair; mov'd you and your great friend

To consort our renown'd designs; both straight did condescend.

Your fathers knew it, gave consent, and grave instruction

To both your valours. Peleus charg'd his most unequall'd son

To govern his victorious strength, and shine past all the rest

In honour, as in mere main force. Then were thy partings blest

With dear advices from thy sire; 'My lovéd son,' said he,

'Achilles, by his grace of birth, superior is to thee,

And for his force more excellent, yet thou more ripe in years;

Then with sound counsels, age's fruits, employ his honour'd years,

Command and overrule his moods; his nature will obey

In any charge discreetly giv'n, that doth his good assay.'

“Thus charg'd thy sire, which thou forgett'st. Yet now at last approve,

With forcéd reference of these, th' attraction of his love;

Who knows if sacred influence may bless thy good intent,

And enter with thy gracious words, ev'n to his full consent?

The admonition of a friend is sweet and vehement.

If any oracle he shun, or if his mother-queen

Hath brought him some instinct from Jove, that fortifies his spleen,

Let him resign command to thee of all his Myrmidons,

And yield by that means some repulse to our confusions,

Adorning thee in his bright arms, that his resembled form

May haply make thee thought himself, and calm this hostile storm;

That so a little we may ease our overchargéd hands,

Draw some breath, not expire it all. The foe but faintly stands

Beneath his labours; and your charge being fierce, and freshly giv'n,

They eas'ly from our tents and fleet may to their walls be driv'n.”

This mov'd the good Patroclus' mind; who made his utmost haste

T' inform his friend; and as the fleet of Ithacus he past,

(At which their markets were dispos'd, councils, and martial courts,

And where to th' altars of the Gods they made divine resorts)

He met renown'd Eurypylus, Evemon's noble son,

Halting, his thigh hurt with a shaft, the liquid sweat did run

Down from his shoulders and his brows, and from his raging wound

Forth flow'd his melancholy blood, yet still his mind was sound.

His sight in kind Patroclus' breast to sacred pity turn'd,

And (nothing more immartial for true ruth) thus he mourn'd:

“Ah wretched progeny 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, Evemon's fame,

Do yet the Greeks withstand his force, whom yet no force can tame?

Or are they hopeless thrown to death by his resistless lance?”

“Divine Patroclus,” he replied, “no more can Greece advance

Defensive weapons, but to fleet they headlong must retire,

For those that to this hour have held our fleet from hostile fire,

And are the bulwarks of our host, lie wounded at their tents,

And Troy's unvanquishable pow'r, still as it toils augments.

But take me to thy black-stern'd ship, save me, and from my thigh

Cut out this arrow, and the blood, that is ingor'd and dry,

Wash with warm water from the wound; then gentle salves apply,

Which thou know'st best, thy princely friend hath taught thee surgery,

Whom, of all Centaurs the most just, Chiron did institute.

Thus to thy honourable hands my ease I prosecute,

Since our physicians cannot help. Machaon at his tent

Needs a physician himself, being leech and patient;

And Podalirius, in the field, the sharp conflict sustains.”

Strong Menœtiades replied: “How shall I ease thy pains?

What shall we do, Eurypylus? I am to use all haste,

To signify to Thetis' son occurrents that have past,

At Nestor's honourable suit. But be that work achiev'd

When this is done, I will not leave thy torments unrelieved.”

This said, athwart his back he cast, beneath his breast, his arm,

And nobly help'd him to his tent. His servants, seeing his harm,

Dispread ox-hides upon the earth, whereon Machaon lay.

Patroclus cut out the sharp shaft, and clearly wash'd away

With lukewarm water the black blood; then 'twixt his hands he bruis'd

A sharp and mitigatory root; which when he had infus'd

Into the green, well-cleansed, wound, the pains he felt before

Were well, and instantly allay'd; the wound did bleed no more.