Iliad

Jove helping Hector, and his host, thus close Achive fleet,

He let them then their own strengths try, and season there their sweet

With ceaseless toils and grievances; for now he turn'd his face,

Look'd down, and view'd the far-off land of well-rode men in Thrace,

Of the renown'd milk-nourish'd men, the Hippemolgians,

Long-liv'd, most just, and innocent, and close-fought Mysians.

Nor turn'd he any more to Troy his ever-shining eyes,

Because he thought not any one, of all the Deities,

When his care left th' indiff'rent field, would aid on either side.

But this security in Jove the great Sea-Rector spied,

Who sat aloft on th' utmost top of shady Samothrace,

And view'd the fight. His chosen seat stood in so brave a place,

That Priam's city, th' Achive ships, all Ida, did appear

To his full view; who from the sea was therefore seated there.

He took much ruth to see the Greeks by Troy sustain such ill,

And, mightily incens'd with Jove, stoop'd straight from that steep hill,

That shook as he flew off, so hard his parting press'd the height.

The woods, and all the great hills near, trembled beneath the weight

Of his immortal moving feet. Three steps he only took,

Before he far-off Ægas reach'd, but, with the fourth, it shook

With his dread entry. In the depth of those seas he did hold

His bright and glorious palace, built of never-rusting gold;

And there arriv'd, he put in coach his brazen-footed steeds,

All golden-maned, and pac'd with wings; and all in golden weeds

He cloth'd himself. The golden scourge, most elegantly done,

He took, and mounted to his seat; and then the God begun

To drive his chariot through the waves. From whirlpits ev'ry way

The whales exulted under him, and knew their king; the sea

For joy did open; and, his horse so swift and lightly flew,

The under axletree of brass no drop of water drew;

And thus these deathless coursers brought their king to th' Achive ships.

'Twixt th' Imber cliffs and Tenedos, a certain cavern creeps

Into the deep sea's gulfy breast, and there th' Earth-shaker stay'd

His forward steeds, took them from coach, and heav'nly fodder laid

In reach before them; their brass hoves he girt with gyves of gold,

Not to be broken, nor dissolved, to make them firmly hold

A fit attendance on their king; who went to th' Achive host,

Which, like to tempests or wild flames, the clust'ring Trojans tost,

Insatiably valorous, in Hector's like command,

High sounding, and resounding, shouts; for hope cheer'd ev'ry hand,

To make the Greek fleet now their prise, and all the Greeks destroy.

But Neptune, circler of the earth, with fresh heart did employ

The Grecian hands. In strength of voice and body he did take

Calchas' resemblance, and, of all, th' Ajaces first bespake,

Who of themselves were free enough: “Ajaces, you alone

Sustain the common good of Greece, in ever putting on

The memory of fortitude, and flying shameful flight.

Elsewhere the desp'rate hands of Troy could give me no affright,

The brave Greeks have withstood their worst; but this our mighty wall

Being thus transcended by their pow'r, grave fear doth much appall

My careful spirits, lest we feel some fatal mischief here,

Where Hector, raging like a flame, doth in his charge appear,

And boasts himself the best God's son. Be you conceited so,

And fire so, more than human spirits, that God may seem to do

In your deeds, and, with such thoughts cheer'd, others to such exhort,

And such resistance; these great minds will in as great a sort

Strengthen your bodies, and force check to all great Hector's charge,

Though ne'er so spirit-like, and though Jove still, past himself, enlarge

His sacred actions.” Thus he touched, with his fork'd sceptre's point,

The breasts of both; fill'd both their spirits, and made up ev'ry joint

With pow'r responsive; when, hawk-like, swift, and set sharp to fly,

That fiercely stooping from a rock, inaccessible and high,

Cuts through a field, and sets a fowl (not being of her kind)

Hard, and gets ground still; Neptune so left these two, either's mind

Beyond themselves rais'd. Of both which, Oïleus first discern'd

The masking Deity, and said: “Ajax, some God hath warn'd

Our pow'rs to fight, and save our fleet. He put on him the hue

Of th' augur Calchas. By his pace, in leaving us, I knew,

Without all question, 'twas a God; the Gods are eas'ly known;

And in my tender breast I feel a greater spirit blown,

To execute affairs of fight; I find my hands so free

To all high motion, and my feet seem feather'd under me,”

This Telamonius thus receiv'd: “So, to my thoughts, my hands

Burn with desire to toss my lance; each foot beneath me stands

Bare on bright fire, to use his speed; my heart is rais'd so high

That to encounter Hector's self, I long insatiately.”

While these thus talk'd, as overjoy'd with study for the fight,

(Which God had stirr'd up in their spirits) the same God did excite

The Greeks that were behind at fleet, refreshing their free hearts

And joints, being ev'n dissolv'd with toil; and (seeing the desp'rate parts

Play'd by the Trojans past their wall) grief strook them, and their eyes

Sweat tears from under their sad lids, their instant destinies

Never supposing they could 'scape. But Neptune, stepping in,

With ease stirr'd up the able troops, and did at first begin

With Teucer, and Peneleüs, th' heroe Leitus,

Deipyrus, Meriones, and young Antilochus,

All éxpert in the deeds of arms: “O youths of Greece,” said he,

“What change is this? In your brave fight, I only look'd to see

Our fleet's whole safety; and, if you neglect the harmful field,

Now shines the day when Greece to Troy must all her honours yield.

O grief! So great a miracle, and horrible to sight,

As now I see, I never thought could have profan'd the light!

The Trojans brave us at our ships, that have been heretofore

Like faint and fearful deer in woods, distracted evermore

With ev'ry sound, and yet 'scape not, but prove the torn up fare

Of lynces, wolves, and lëopards, as never born to war.

Nor durst these Trojans at first siege, in any least degree,

Expect your strength, or stand one shock of Grecian chivalry;

Yet now, far from their walls, they dare fight at our fleet maintain,

All by our Gen'ral's cowardice, that doth infect his men

Who, still at odds with him, for that will needs themselves neglect,

And suffer slaughter in their ships. Suppose there was defect

(Beyond all question) in our king, to wrong Æacides,

And he, for his particular wreak, from all assistance cease;

We must not cease t' assist ourselves. Forgive our Gen'ral then,

And quickly too. Apt to forgive are all good-minded men.

Yet you, quite void of their good minds, give good, in you quite lost,

For ill in others, though ye be the worthiest of your host.

As old as I am, I would scorn, to fight with one that flies,

Or leaves the fight as you do now. The Gen'ral slothful lies,

And you, though slothful too, maintain with him a fight of spleen.

Out, out, I hate ye from my heart. Ye rotten-minded men,

In this ye add an ill that's worse than all your sloth's dislikes.

But as I know to all your hearts my reprehension strikes,

So thither let just shame strike too; for while you stand still here

A mighty fight swarms at your fleet, great Hector rageth there,

Hath burst the long bar and the gates.” Thus Neptune rous'd these men,

And round about th' Ajaces did their phalanxes maintain

Their station firm; whom Mars himself, had he amongst them gone,

Could not disparage, nor Jove's Maid that sets men fiercer on;

For now the best were chosen out, and they receiv'd th' advance

Of Hector and his men so full, that lance was lin'd with lance,

Shields thicken'd with opposéd shields, targets to targets nail'd,

Helms stuck to helms, and man to man grew, they so close assail'd,

Plum'd casques were hang'd in either's plumes, all join'd so close their stands,

Their lances stood, thrust out so thick by such all-daring hands,

All bent their firm breasts to the point, and made sad fight their joy

Of both. Troy all in heaps strook first, and Hector first of Troy.

And as a round piece of a rock, which with a winter's flood

Is from his top torn, when a show'r, pour'd from a bursten cloud,

Hath broke the natural bond it held within the rough steep rock,

And, jumping, it flies down the woods, resounding ev'ry shock,

And on, uncheck'd, it headlong leaps, till in a plain it stay,

And then, though never so impell'd, it stirs not any way;

So Hector hereto throated threats, to go to sea in blood,

And reach the Grecian ships and tents, without being once withstood.

But when he fell into the strengths the Grecians did maintain,

And that they fought upon the square, he stood as fetter'd then;

And so the adverse sons of Greece laid on with swords and darts,

Whose both ends hurt, that they repell'd his worst; and he converts

His threats, by all means, to retreats; yet made as he retir'd,

Only t' encourage those behind; and thus those men inspir'd:

“Trojans! Dardanians! Lycians! All warlike friends, stand close;

The Greeks can never bear me long, though tow'r-like they oppose.

This lance, be sure, will be their spoil; if ev'n the best of Gods,

High thund'ring Juno's husband, stirs my spirit with true abodes,”

With this all strengths and minds he mov'd; but young Deiphobus,

Old Priam's son, amongst them all was chiefly virtuous,

He bore before him his round shield, tripp'd lightly through the prease,

At all parts cover'd with his shield; and him Meriones

Charg'd with a glitt'ring dart, that took his bull-hide orby shield,

Yet pierc'd it not, but in the top itself did piecemeal yield,

Deiphobus thrust forth his targe, and fear'd the broken ends

Of strong Meriones's lance, who now turn'd to his friends;

The great heroë scorning much by such a chance to part

With lance and conquest, forth he went to fetch another dart,

Left at his tent. The rest fought on, the clamour heighten'd there

Was most unmeasur'd. Teucer first did flesh the massacre,

And slew a goodly man at arms, the soldier Imbrius,

The son of Mentor, rich in horse; he dwelt at Pedasus

Before the sons of Greece sieg'd Troy; from whence he married

Medesicaste, one that sprung of Priam's bastard-bed;

But when the Greek ships, double-oar'd, arriv'd at Ilion,

To Ilion he return'd, and prov'd beyond comparison

Amongst the Trojans; he was lodg'd with Priam, who held dear

His natural sons no more than him; yet him, beneath the ear,

The son of Telamon attain'd, and drew his lance. He fell,

As when an ash on some hill's top (itself topp'd wondrous well)

The steel hews down, and he presents his young leaves to the soil;

So fell he, and his fair arms groan'd, which Teucer long'd to spoil,

And in he ran; and Hector in, who sent a shining lance

At Teucer, who, beholding it, slipp'd by, and gave it chance

On Actor's son, Amphimachus, whose breast it strook; and in

Flew Hector, at his sounding fall, with full intent to win

The tempting helmet from his head; but Ajax with a dart

Reach'd Hector at his rushing in, yet touch'd not any part

About his body; it was hid quite through with horrid brass;

The boss yet of his targe it took, whose firm stuff stay'd the pass,

And he turn'd safe from both the trunks; both which the Grecians bore

From off the field. Amphimachus Menestheus did restore,

And Stichius, to th' Achaian strength. Th' Ajaces (that were pleas'd

Still most with most hot services) on Trojan Imbrius seiz'd.

And as from sharply-bitten hounds, a brace of lions force

A new-slain goat, and through the woods bear in their jaws the corse

Aloft, lift up into the air; so, up into the skies,

Bore both th' Ajaces Imbrius, and made his arms their prise.

Yet, not content, Oïliades, enrag'd to see there dead

His much-belov'd Amphimachus, he hew'd off Imbrius' head;

Which, swinging round, bowl-like he toss'd amongst the Trojan prease,

And full at Hector's feet it fell. Amphimachus' decease,

Being nephew to the God of waves, much vex'd the Deity's mind,

And to the ships and tents he march'd, yet more to make inclin'd

The Grecians to the Trojan bane. In hasting to which end,

Idomenëus met with him, returning from a friend,

Whose ham late hurt, his men brought off; and having giv'n command

To his physicians for his cure, much fir'd to put his hand

To Troy's repulse, he left his tent. Him (like Andremon's son,

Prince Thoas, that in Pleuron rul'd, and lofty Calydon,

Th' Ætolian pow'rs, and like a God was of his subjects lov'd)

Neptune encounter'd, and but thus his forward spirit mov'd:

“Idomenëus, prince of Crete! O whither now are fled

Those threats in thee, with which the rest the Trojans menacéd?”

“O Thoas,” he replied, “no one of all our host stands now

In any question of reproof, as I am let to know,

And why is my intelligence false? We all know how to fight,

And, (fear disanimating none) all do our knowledge right.

Nor can our harms accuse our sloth, not one from work we miss.

The great God only works our ill, whose pleasure now it is

That, far from home, in hostile fields, and with inglorious fate,

Some Greeks should perish. But do thou, O Thoas, that of late

Hast prov'd a soldier, and was wont, where thou hast sloth beheld,

To chide it, and exhort to pains, now hate to be repell'd,

And set on all men.” He replied, “I would to heav'n, that he,

Whoever this day doth abstain from battle willingly,

May never turn his face from Troy, but here become the prey

And scorn of dogs! Come then, take arms, and let our kind assay

Join both our forces. Though but two, yet, being both combin'd,

The work of many single hands we may perform. We find,

That virtue co-augmented thrives in men of little mind,

But we have singly match'd the great.” Thus said, the God again,

With all his conflicts, visited the vent'rous flight of men.

The king turn'd to his tent; rich arms put on his breast, and took

Two darts in hand, and forth he flew. His haste on made him look

Much like a fi'ry meteor, with which Jove's sulph'ry hand

Opes heav'n, and hurls about the air bright flashes, showing aland

Abodes that ever run before tempest and plagues to men:

So, in his swift pace, show'd his arms. He was encounter'd then

By his good friend Meriones yet near his tent; to whom

Thus spake the pow'r of Idomen: “What reason makes thee come,

Thou son of Molus, my most lov'd, thus leaving fight alone?

Is't for some wound? The jav'lin's head, still sticking in the bone,

Desir'st thou ease of? Bring'st thou news? Or what is it that brings

Thy presence hither? Be assur'd, my spirit needs no stings

To this hot conflict. Of myself thou seest I come, and loth,

For any tent's love, to deserve the hateful taint of sloth.”

He answer'd: Only for a dart, he that retreat did make,

(Were any left him at his tent) for, that he had, he brake

On proud Deiphobus's shield. “Is one dart all?” said he,

“Take one and twenty, if thou like, for in my tent they be;

They stand there shining by the walls. I took them as my prise

From those false Trojans I have slain. And this is not the guise

Of one that loves his tent, or fights afar off with his foe,

But since I love fight, therefore doth my martial star bestow,

Besides those darts, helms, targets boss'd, and corslets bright as day.”

“So I,” said Merion, “at my tent, and sable bark, may say,

I many Trojan spoils retain, but now not near they be,

To serve me for my present use; and therefore ask I thee.

Not that I lack a fortitude to store me with my own,

For ever in the foremost fights, that render men renown,

I fight, when any fight doth stir. And this perhaps may well

Be hid to others, but thou know'st, and I to thee appeal.”

“I know,” replied the king, “how much thou weigh'st in ev'ry worth,

What need'st thou therefore utter this? If we should now choose forth

The worthiest men for ambushes, in all our fleet and host,

(For ambushes are services that try men's virtues most,

Since there the fearful and the firm will, as they are, appear,

The fearful alt'ring still his hue, and rests not anywhere,

Nor is his spirit capable of th' ambush constancy,

But riseth, changeth still his place, and croucheth curiously

On his bent haunches; half his height scarce seen above the ground,

For fear to be seen, yet must see; his heart, with many a bound,

Off'ring to leap out of his breast, and, ever fearing death,

The coldness of it makes him gnash, and half shakes out his teeth;

Where men of valour neither fear, nor ever change their looks,

From lodging th' ambush till it rise, but, since there must be strokes,

Wish to be quickly in their midst) thy strength and hand in these

Who should reprove? For if, far off, or fighting in the prease,

Thou shouldst be wounded, I am sure the dart that gave the wound

Should not be drawn out of thy back, or make thy neck the ground,

But meet thy belly, or thy breast, in thrusting further yet

When thou art furthest, till the first, and before him, thou get.

But on; like children let not us stand bragging thus, but do;

Lest some hear, and past measure chide, that we stand still and woo.

Go, choose a better dart, and make Mars yield a better chance.”

This said, Mars-swift Meriones, with haste, a brazen lance

Took from his tent, and overtook, most careful of the wars,

Idomenëus, And such two, in field, as harmful Mars,

And Terror, his belovéd son, that without terror fights,

And is of such strength that in war the frighter he affrights,

When, out of Thrace, they both take arms against th' Ephyran bands,

Or 'gainst the great-soul'd Phlegians, nor favour their own hands,

But give the grace to others still; in such sort to the fight,

March'd these two managers of men, in armours full of light.

And first spake Merion: “On which part, son of Deucalion,

Serves thy mind to invade the fight? Is't best to set upon

The Trojans, in our battle's aid, the right or left-hand wing,

For all parts I suppose employ'd?” To this the Cretan king

Thus answer'd: “In our navy's midst are others that assist;

The two Ajaces; Teucer too, with shafts the expertest

Of all the Grecians, and, though small, is great in fights of stand;

And these (though huge he be of strength) will serve to fill the hand

Of Hector's self, that Priamist, that studier for blows.

It shall be call'd a deed of height for him (even suff'ring throes

For knocks still) to outlabour them, and, bett'ring their tough hands,

Enflame our fleet. If Jove himself cast not his fire-brands

Amongst our navy, that affair no man can bring to field.

Great Ajax Telamonius to none alive will yield

That yields to death, and whose life takes Ceres' nutritions,

That can be cut with any iron, or pash'd with mighty stones;

Not to Æacides himself he yields for combats set,

Though clear he must give place for pace and free swing of his feet.

Since then, the battle (being our place of most care) is made good

By his high valour, let our aid see all pow'rs be withstood

That charge the left wing, and to that let us direct our course,

Where quickly feel we this hot foe, or make him feel our force.”

This order'd, swift Meriones went, and forewent his king,

Till both arriv'd where one enjoin'd. When, in the Greeks' left wing,

The Trojans saw the Cretan king, like fire in fortitude,

And his attendant, in bright arms so gloriously indu'd,

Both cheering the sinister troops, all at the king address'd,

And so the skirmish at their sterns on both parts were increas'd,

That, as from hollow bustling winds engender'd storms arise,

When dust doth chiefly clog the ways which up into the skies

The wanton tempest ravisheth, begetting night of day;

So came together both the foes, both lusted to assay,

And work with quick steel either's death. Man's fierce corruptress, Fight,

Set up her bristles in the field with lances long and light,

Which thick fell foul on either's face. The splendour of the steel,

In new-scour'd curets, radiant casques, and burnish'd shields, did seel

Th' assailer's eyes up. He sustain'd a huge spirit, that was glad

To see that labour, or in soul that stood not stricken sad.

Thus these two disagreeing Gods, old Saturn's mighty sons,

Afflicted these heroic men with huge oppressións.

Jove honouring Æacides (to let the Greeks still try

Their want without him) would bestow, yet still, the victory

On Hector, and the Trojan pow'r; yet for Æacides,

And honour of his mother-queen, great Goddess of the seas,

He would not let proud Ilion see the Grecians quite destroy'd,

And therefore from the hoary deep he suffered so employ'd

Great Neptune in the Grecian aid; who griev'd for them, and storm'd

Extremely at his brother Jove. Yet both one Goddess form'd,

And one soil bred, but Jupiter precedence took in birth,

And had more knowledge; for which cause, the other came not forth

Of his wet kingdom, but with care of not being seen t' excite

The Grecian host, and like a man appear'd, and made the fight.

So these Gods made men's valours great, but equall'd them with war

As harmful as their hearts were good; and stretch'd those chains as far

On both sides as their limbs could bear, in which they were involv'd

Past breach, or loosing, that their knees might therefore be dissolv'd.

Then, though a half-grey man he were, Crete's sov'reign did excite

The Greeks to blows, and flew upon the Trojans, ev'n to flight;

For he, in sight of all the host, Othryonëus slew,

That from Cabesus, with the fame of those wars, thither drew

His new-come forces, and requir'd, without respect of dow'r,

Cassandra, fair'st of Priam's race; assuring with his pow'r

A mighty labour, to expell, in their despite, from Troy

The sons of Greece. The king did vow, that done, he should enjoy

His goodliest daughter. He (in trust of that fair purchase) fought;

And at him threw the Cretan king a lance, that singled out

This great assumer, whom it strook just in his navel-stead.

His brazen curets helping nought, resign'd him to the dead.

Then did the conqueror exclaim, and thus insulted then:

“Othryonëus, I will praise, beyond all mortal men,

Thy living virtues, if thou wilt now perfect the brave vow

Thou mad'st to Priam, for the wife he promis'd to bestow.

And where he should have kept his word, there we assure thee here,

To give thee for thy princely wife the fairest and most dear

Of our great Gen'ral's female race, which from his Argive hall

We all will wait upon to Troy, if, with our aids, and all,

Thou wilt but raze this well-built town. Come, therefore, follow me,

That in our ships we may conclude this royal match with thee.

I'll be no jot worse than my word.” With that he took his feet,

And dragg'd him through the fervent fight; in which did Asius meet

The victor, to inflict revenge. He came on foot before

His horse, that on his shoulders breath'd; so closely evermore

His coachman led them to his lord; who held a huge desire

To strike the king, but he strook first, and underneath his chin,

At his throat's height, through th' other side, his eager lance drave in;

And down he bustled like an oak, a poplar, or a pine,

Hewn down for shipwood, and so lay. His fall did so decline

The spirit of his charioteer, that, lest he should incense

The victor to impair his spoil, he durst not drive from thence

His horse and chariot; and so pleas'd, with that respective part,

Antilochus, that for his fear he reach'd him with a dart

About his belly's midst, and down his sad corse fell beneath

The richly builded chariot, there labouring out his breath.

The horse Antilochus took off; when, griev'd for this event,

Deiphobus drew passing near, and at the victor sent

A shining jav'lin; which he saw, and shunn'd, with gath'ring round

His body in his all-round shield, at whose top, with a sound,

It overflew; yet, seizing there, it did not idly fly

from him that wing'd it, his strong hand still drave it mortally

On Prince Hypsenor; it did pierce his liver, underneath

The veins it passeth; his shrunk knees submitted him to death.

And then did lov'd Deiphobus miraculously vaunt:

“Now Asius lies not unreveng'd, nor doth his spirit want

The joy I wish it, though it be now ent'ring the strong gate

Of mighty Pluto, since this hand hath sent him down a mate.”

This glory in him griev'd the Greeks, and chiefly the great mind

Of martial Antilochus, who though to grief inclin'd,

He left not yet his friend, but ran and hid him with his shield;

And to him came two lovely friends, that freed him from the field,

Mecisteus, son of Echius, and the right nobly born

Alastor, bearing him to fleet, and did extremely mourn.

Idomenëus sunk not yet, but held his nerves entire,

His mind much less deficient, being fed with firm desire

To hide more Trojans in dim night, or sink himself in guard

Of his lov'd countrymen. And then Alcathous prepar'd

Work for his valour, off'ring fate his own destructión.

A great heroë, and had grace to be the lovéd son

Of Æsyetes, son-in-law to prince Æneas' sire,

Hippodamia marrying; who most enflam'd the fire

Of her dear parents' love, and took precedence in her birth

Of all their daughters, and as much exceeded in her worth

(For beauty answer'd with her mind, and both with housewif'ry)

All the fair beauty of young dames that us'd her company,

And therefore, being the worthiest dame, the worthiest man did wed

Of ample Troy. Him Neptune stoop'd beneath the royal force

Of Idomen, his sparkling eyes deluding, and the course

Of his illustrious lineaments so out of nature bound,

That back nor forward he could stir, but, as he grew to ground,

Stood like a pillar, or high tree, and neither mov'd, nor fear'd;

When straight the royal Cretan's dart in his mid breast appear'd,

It brake the curets, that were proof to ev'ry other dart,

Yet now they cleft and rung; the lance stuck shaking in his heart;

His heart with panting made it shake; but Mars did now remit

The greatness of it, and the king, now quitting the brag fit

Of glory in Deiphobus, thus terribly exclaim'd:

“Deiphobus, now may we think that we are ev'nly fam'd,

That three for one have sent to Dis. But come, change blows with me,

Thy vaunts for him thou slew'st were vain. Come, wretch, that thou may'st see

What issue Jove hath. Jove begot Minos, the strength of Crete;

Minos begot Deucalion; Deucalion did beget

Me Idomen, now Creta's king, that here my ships have brought

To bring thyself, thy father, friends, all Ilion's pomp, to nought.”

Deiphobus at two ways stood, in doubt to call some one,

With some retreat, to be his aid, or try the chance alone.

At last, the first seem'd best to him, and back he went to call

Anchises' son to friend, who stood in troop the last of all,

Where still he serv'd; which made him still incense against the king,

That, being amongst his best their peer, he grac'd not anything

His wrong'd deserts. Deiphobus spake to him, standing near:

“Æneas, prince of Troians, if any touch appear

Of glory in thee, thou must now assist thy sister's lord,

And one that to thy tend'rest youth did careful guard afford,

Alcathous, whom Creta's king hath chiefly slain to thee,

His right most challenging thy band. Come, therefore, follow me.”

This much excited his good mind, and set his heart on fire

Against the Cretan, who child-like dissolv'd not in his ire,

But stood him firm. As when in hills a strength relying boar,

Alone, and hearing hunters come, whom tumult flies before,

Up-thrusts his bristles, whets his tusks, sets fire on his red eyes,

And in his brave prepar'd repulse doth dogs and men despise;

So stood the famous-for-his-lance, nor shunn'd the coming charge

That resolute Æneas brought. Yet, since the odds was large,

He call'd with good right to his aid war-skill'd Ascalaphus,

Aphareüs, Meriones, the strong Deipyrus,

And Nestor's honourable son: “Come near, my friends,” said he,

“And add your aids to me alone. Fear taints me worthily,

Though firm I stand, and show it not. Æneas great in fight,

And one that bears youth in his flow'r, that bears the greatest might,

Comes on with aim direct at me. Had I his youthful limb

To bear my mind, he should yield fame, or I would yield it him.”

This said, all held, in many souls, one ready helpful mind,

Clapp'd shields and shoulders, and stood close. Æneas, not inclin'd

With more presumption than the king, call'd aid as well as he,

Divine Agenor, Helen's love, who follow'd instantly,

And all their forces following them; as after bellwethers

The whole flocks follow to their drink, which sight the shepherd cheers.

Nor was Æneas' joy less mov'd to see such troops attend

His honour'd person; and all these fought close about his friend;

But two of them, past all the rest, had strong desire to shed

The blood of either; Idomen, and Cytherea's seed.

Æneas first bestow'd his lance, which th' other seeing shunn'd,

And that, thrown from an idle hand, stuck trembling in the ground.

But Idomen's, discharg'd at him, had no such vain success,

Which Œnomaus' entrails found, in which it did impress

His sharp pile to his fall; his palms tore his returning earth.

Idomenëus straight stepp'd in, and pluck'd his jav'lin forth,

But could not spoil his goodly arms, they press'd him so with darts.

And now the long toil of the fight had spent his vig'rous parts,

And made them less apt to avoid the foe that should advance,

Or, when himself advanc'd again, to run and fetch his lance,

And therefore in stiff fights of stand he spent the cruel day.

When, coming softly from the slain, Deiphobus gave way

To his bright jav'lin at the king, whom he could never brook;

But then he lost his envy too. His lance yet deadly took

Ascalaphus, the son of Mars; quite through his shoulder flew

The violent head, and down he fell. Nor yet by all means knew

Wide-throated Mars his son was fall'n, but in Olympus' top

Sat canopied with golden clouds; Jove's counsel had shut up

Both him and all the other Gods from that time's equal task,

Which now, about Ascalaphus, strife set. His shining casque

Deiphobus had forc'd from him, but instantly leap'd in

Mars-swift Meriones, and strook, with his long javelin,

The right arm of Deiphobus, which made his hand let fall

The sharp-topp'd helmet; the press'd earth resounding there withal.

When, vulture-like, Meriones rush'd in again and drew,

From out the low part of his arm his jav'lin, and then flew

Back to his friends. Deiphobus, faint with the blood's excess

Fall'n from his wound, was carefully convey'd out of the press

By his kind brother by both sides, Polites, till they gat

His horse and chariot that were still set fit for his retreat,

And bore him now to Ilion. The rest fought fiercely on,

And set a mighty fight on foot. When next, Anchises' son

Aphareus Caletorides, that ran upon him, strook

Just in the throat with his keen lance; and straight his head forsook

His upright carriage; and his shield, his helm, and all, with him

Fell to the earth; where ruinous death made prise of ev'ry limb.

Antilochus, discov'ring well that Thoon's heart took check,

Let fly, and cut the hollow vein, that runs up to his neck,

Along his back part, quite in twain; down in the dust he fell,

Upwards, and, with extended hands, bade all the world farewell.

Antilochus rush'd nimbly in, and, looking round, made prise

Of his fair arms; in which affair his round-set enemies

Let fly their lances, thundering on his advanced targe,

But could not get his flesh. The God that shakes the earth took charge

Of Nestor's son and kept him safe; who never was away,

But still amongst the thickest foes his busy lance did play,

Observing ever when he might, far off, or near, offend;

And watching Asius' son, in prease he spied him, and did send,

Close coming on, a dart at him, that smote in midst his shield,

In which the sharp head of the lance the blue-hair'd God made yield,

Not pleas'd to yield his pupil's life; in whose shield half the dart

Stuck like a truncheon burn'd with fire; on earth lay th' other part.

He, seeing no better end of all, retir'd in fear of worse

But him Meriones pursu'd; and his lance found full course

To th' other's life. It wounded him betwixt the privy parts

And navel, where, to wretched men that war's most violent smarts

Must undergo, wounds chiefly vex. His dart Meriones

Pursu'd, and Adamas so striv'd with it, and his misease,

As doth a bullock puff and storm, whom in disdainéd bands

The upland herdsmen strive to cast; so, fall'n beneath the hands

Of his stern foe, Asiades did struggle, pant, and rave.

But no long time; for when the lance was pluck'd out, up he gave

His tortur'd soul. Then Troy's turn came; when with a Thracian sword

The temples of Deipyrus did Helenus afford

So huge a blow, it strook all light out of his cloudy eyes,

And cleft his helmet; which a Greek, there fighting, made his prise,

It fell so full beneath his feet. Atrides griev'd to see

That sight, and, threat'ning, shook a lance at Helenus, and he

A bow half drew at him; at once out flew both shaft and lance.

The shaft Atrides' curets strook; and far away did glance.

Atrides' dart of Helenus the thrust out bow-hand strook,

And, through the hand, stuck in the bow. Agenor's hand did pluck

From forth the nailéd prisoner the jav'lin quickly out;

And fairly, with a little wool, enwrapping round about

The wounded hand, within a scarf he bore it, which his squire

Had ready for him. Yet the wound would needs he should retire.

Pisander, to revenge his hurt, right on the king ran he.

A bloody fate suggested him to let him run on thee,

O Menelaus, that he might, by thee, in dang'rous war

Be done to death. Both coming on, Atrides' lance did err.

Pisander strook Atrides' shield, that brake at point the dart

Not running through; yet he rejoic'd as playing a victor's part.

Atrides, drawing his fair sword, upon Pisander flew;

Pisander, from beneath his shield, his goodly weapon drew,

Two-edg'd, with right sharp steel, and long, the handle olive-tree,

Well-polish'd; and to blows they go. Upon the top strook he

Atrides' horse-hair'd-feather'd helm; Atrides on his brow,

Above th' extreme part of his nose, laid such a heavy blow

That all the bones crash'd under it, and out his eyes did drop

Before his feet in bloody dust; he after, and shrunk up

His dying body, which the foot of his triumphing foe

Open'd, and stood upon his breast, and off his arms did go,

This insultation us'd the while: “At length forsake our fleet,

Thus ye false Trojans, to whom war never enough is sweet.

Nor want ye more impieties, with which ye have abus'd

Me, ye bold dogs, that your chief friends so honourably us'd.

Nor fear you hospitable Jove, that lets such thunders go.

But build upon't, he will unbuild your tow'rs that clamber so,

For ravishing my goods, and wife, in flow'r of all her years,

And without cause; nay, when that fair and lib'ral hand of hers

Had us'd you so most lovingly. And now again ye would

Cast fire into our fleet, and kill our princes if ye could.

Go to, one day you will be curb'd, though never so ye thirst

Rude war, by war. O father Jove, they say thou art the first

In wisdom of all Gods and men, yet all this comes from thee,

And still thou gratifiest these men, how lewd so e'er they be,

Though never they be cloy'd with sins, nor can be satiate,

As good men should, with this vile war. Satiety of state,

Satiety of sleep and love, satiety of ease,

Of music, dancing, can find place; yet harsh war still must please

Past all these pleasures, ev'n past these. They will be cloy'd with these

Before their war joys. Never war gives Troy satieties.”

This said, the bloody arms were oft; and to his soldiers thrown,

He mixing in first fight again. And then Harpalion,

Kind king Pylæmen's son, gave charge; who to those wars of Troy

His lovéd father followéd, nor ever did enjoy

His country's sight again. He strook the targe of Atreus' son

Full in the midst; his jav'lin's steel yet had no pow'r to run

The target through; nor had himself the heart to fetch his lance,

But took him to his strength, and cast on ev'ry side a glance,

Lest any his dear sides should dart. But Merion, as he fled,

Sent after him a brazen lance, that ran his eager head

Through his right hip, and all along the bladder's región

Beneath the bone; it settled him, and set his spirit gone

Amongst the hands of his best friends; and like a worm he lay

Stretch'd on the earth, which his black blood imbru'd, and flow'd away.

His corse the Paphlagonians did sadly wait upon,

Repos'd in his rich chariot, to sacred Ilion;

The king his father following, dissolv'd in kindly tears,

And no wreak sought for his slain son. But, at his slaughterers

Incenséd Paris spent a lance, since he had been a guest

To many Paphlagonians; and through the prease it press'd.

There was a certain augur's son, that did for wealth excell,

And yet was honest; he was born, and did at Corinth dwell;

Who, though he knew his harmful fate, would needs his ship ascend.

His father, Polyidus, oft would tell him that his end

Would either seize him at his house, upon a sharp disease,

Or else among the Grecian ships by Trojans slain. Both these

Together he desir'd to shun; but the disease, at last,

And ling'ring death in it, he left, and war's quick stroke embrac'd.

The lance betwixt his ear and cheek ran in, and drave the mind

Of both those bitter fortunes out. Night strook his whole pow'rs blind.

Thus fought they, like the spirit of fire; nor Jove-lov'd Hector knew

How in the fleet's left wing the Greeks his down-put soldiers slew

Almost to victory; the God that shakes the earth so well

Help'd with his own strength, and the Greeks so fiercely did impel.

Yet Hector made the first place good, where both the ports and wall

(The thick rank of the Greek shields broke) he enter'd, and did skall,

Where on the gray sea's shore were drawn (the wall being there but slight)

Protesilaus' ships, and those of Ajax, where the fight

Of men and horse were sharpest set. There the Bœotian bands,

Long-rob'd Iaons, Locrians, and, brave men of their hands,

The Phthian and Epeian troops did spritefully assail

The god-like Hector rushing in; and yet could not prevail

To his repulse, though choicest men of Athens there made head;

Amongst whom was Menestheus chief, whom Phidias followéd,

Stichius and Bias, huge in strength. Th' Epeian troops were led

By Meges' and Phylides' cares, Amphion, Dracius.

Before the Phthians Medon march'd, and Meneptolemus;

And these, with the Bœotian pow'rs, bore up the fleet's defence.

Oïleus by his brother's side stood close, and would not thence

For any moment of that time. But, as through fallow fields

Black oxen draw a well-join'd plough, and either ev'nly yields

His thrifty labour, all heads couch'd so close to earth they plow

The fallow with their horns, till out the sweat begins to flow,

The stretch'd yokes crack, and yet at last the furrow forth is driven;

So toughly stood these to their task, and made their work as even.

But Ajax Telamonius had many helpful men

That, when sweat ran about his knees, and labour flow'd, would then

Help bear his mighty sev'n-fold shield; when swift Oïliades

The Locrians left, and would not make those murth'rous fights of prease,

Because they wore no bright steel casques, nor bristled plumes for show,

Round shields, nor darts of solid ash, but with the trusty bow,

And jacks well-quilted with soft wool, they came to Troy, and were,

In their fit place, as confident as those that fought so near,

And reach'd their foes so thick with shafts, that these were they that brake

The Trojan orders first; and then, the brave arm'd men did make

Good work with their close fights before. Behind whom, having shot,

The Locrians hid still; and their foes all thought of fight forgot

With shows of those far-striking shafts, their eyes were troubled so.

And then, assur'dly, from the ships, and tents, th' insulting foe

Had miserably fled to Troy, had not Polydamas

Thus spake to Hector: “Hector, still impossible 'tis to pass

Good counsel upon you. But say some God prefers thy deeds,

In counsels wouldst thou pass us too? In all things none exceeds.

To some God gives the pow'r of war, to some the sleight to dance,

To some the art of instruments, some doth for voice advance;

And that far-seeing God grants some the wisdom of the mind,

Which no man can keep to himself, that, though but few can find,

Doth profit many, that preserves the public weal and state,

And that, who hath, he best can prize. But, for me, I'll relate

Only my censure what's our best. The very crown of war

Doth burn about thee; yet our men, when they have reach'd thus far,

Suppose their valours crown'd, and cease. A few still stir their feet,

And so a few with many fight, sperst thinly through the fleet.

Retire then, leave speech to the rout, and all thy princes call,

That, here, in counsels of most weight, we may resolve of all,

If having likelihood to believe that God will conquest give,

We shall charge through; or with this grace, make our retreat, and live.

For, I must needs affirm, I fear, the debt of yesterday

(Since war is such a God of change) the Grecians now will pay.

And since th' insatiate man of war remains at fleet, if there

We tempt his safety, no hour more his hot soul can forbear.”

This sound stuff Hector lik'd, approv'd, jump'd from his chariot,

And said: “Polydamas make good this place, and suffer not

One prince to pass it; I myself will there go, where you see

Those friends in skirmish, and return (when they have heard from me

Command that your advice obeys) with utmost speed.” This said,

With day-bright arms, white plume, white scarf, his goodly limbs array'd,

He parted from them, like a hill, removing, all of snow,

And to the Trojan peers and chiefs he flew, to let them know

The counsel of Polydamas. All turn'd, and did rejoice,

To haste to Panthus' gentle son, being call'd by Hector's voice;

Who, through the forefights making way, look'd for Deiphobus,

King Helenus, Asiades, Hyrtasian Asius,

Of whom, some were not to be found unhurt, or undeceas'd,

Some only hurt, and gone from field. As further he address'd,

He found within the fight's left wing the fair-hair'd Helen's love

By all means moving men to blows; which could by no means move

Hector's forbearance, his friends' miss so put his pow'rs in storm,

But thus in wonted terms he chid: “You with the finest form,

Impostor, woman's man! where are, in your care mark'd, all these,

Deiphobus, King Helenus, Asius Hyrtacides,

Othryonëus Acamas? Now haughty Ilion

Shakes to his lowest groundwork. Now just ruin falls upon

Thy head past rescue.” He replied: “Hector, why chid'st thou now,

When I am guiltless? Other times, there are for ease, I know,

Than these, for she that brought thee forth, not utterly left me

Without some portion of thy spirit, to make me brother thee.

But since thou first brought'st in thy force, to this our naval fight,

I and my friends have ceaseless fought, to do thy service right.

But all those friends thou seek'st are slain; excepting Helenus,

Who parted wounded in his hand, and so Deiphobus;

Jove yet averted death from them. And now lead thou as far

As thy great heart affects, all we will second any war

That thou endurest; and I hope, my own strength is not lost;

Though least, I'll fight it to his best; nor further fights the most.”

This calm'd hot Hector's spleen; and both turn'd where they saw the face

Of war most fierce, and that was where their friends made good the place

About renown'd Polydamas, and god-like Polypæt,

Palmus, Ascanius, Morus that Hippotion did beget,

And from Ascania's wealthy fields but ev'n the day before

Arriv'd at Troy, that with their aid they kindly might restore

Some kindness they receiv'd from thence. And in fierce fight with these,

Phalces and tall Orthæus stood, and bold Cebriones.

And then the doubt that in advice Polydamas disclos'd,

To fight or fly, Jove took away, and all to fight dispos'd.

And as the floods of troubled air to pitchy storms increase

That after thunder sweeps the fields, and ravish up the seas,

Encount'ring with abhorréd roars, when the engrosséd waves

Boil into foam, and endlessly one after other raves;

So rank'd and guarded th' Ilians march'd; some now, more now, and then

More upon more, in shining steel; now captains, then their men.

And Hector, like man-killing Mars, advanc'd before them all,

His huge round target before him, through thicken'd, like a wall.

With hides well-couch'd with store of brass; and on his temples shin'd

His bright helm, on which danc'd his plume; and in this horrid kind,

(All hid within his world-like shield) he ev'ry troop assay'd

For entry, that in his despite stood firm and undismay'd.

Which when he saw, and kept more off, Ajax came stalking then,

And thus provok'd him: “O good man, why fright'st thou thus our men?

Come nearer. Not art's want in war makes us thus navy-bound,

But Jove's direct scourge; his arm'd hand makes our hands give you ground.

Yet thou hop'st, of thyself, our spoil. But we have likewise hands

To hold our own, as you to spoil; and ere thy countermands

Stand good against our ransack'd fleet, your hugely-peopled town

Our hands shall take in, and her tow'rs from all their heights pull down.

And I must tell thee, time draws on, when, flying, thou shalt cry

To Jove and all the Gods to make thy fair-man'd horses fly

More swift than falcons, that their hoofs may rouse the dust, and bear

Thy body, hid, to Ilion.” This said, his bold words were

Confirm'd as soon as spoke. Jove's bird, the high-flown eagle, took

The right hand of their host; whose wings high acclamations strook

From forth the glad breasts of the Greeks. Then Hector made reply:

“Vain-spoken man, and glorious, what hast thou said? Would I

As surely were the son of Jove, and of great Juno born,

Adorn'd like Pallas, and the God that lifts to earth the morn,

As this day shall bring harmful light to all your host, and thou,

If thou dar'st stand this lance, the earth before the ships shalt strow,

Thy bosom torn up, and the dogs, with all the fowl of Troy,

Be satiate with thy fat and flesh.” This said, with shouting joy

His first troops follow'd, and the last their shouts with shouts repell'd.

Greece answer'd all, nor could her spirits from all show rest conceal'd.

And to so infinite a height all acclamations strove,

They reach'd the splendours stuck about the unreach'd throne of Jove.