The sending of some vent’rous Greek, t’ explore the foe’s intent?
Alas! I greatly fear, not one will give that work consent,
Expos’d alone to all the fears that flow in gloomy night.
He that doth this must know death well, in which ends ev’ry fright.”
“Brother,” said he, “in these affairs we both must use advice,
Jove is against us, and accepts great Hector’s sacrifice.
For I have never seen, nor heard, in one day, and by one,
So many high attempts well urg’d, as Hector’s pow’r hath done
Against the hapless sons of Greece: being chiefly dear to Jove,
And without cause, being neither fruit of any Goddess’ love,
Nor helpful God; and yet I fear the deepness of his hand,
Ere it be ras’d out of our thoughts, will many years withstand.
But, brother, hie thee to thy ships, and Idomen’s disease
With warlike Ajax; I will haste to grave Neleides,
Exhorting him to rise, and give the sacred watch command,
For they will specially embrace incitement at his hand,
And now his son their captain is, and Idomen’s good friend,
Bold Merion, to whose discharge we did that charge commend.”
“Command’st thou then,” his brother ask’d, “that I shall tarry here
Attending thy resolv’d approach, or else the message bear,
And quickly make return to thee?” He answer’d: “Rather stay,
Lest otherwise we fail to meet, for many a diff’rent way
Lies through our labyrinthian host. Speak ever as you go,
Command strong watch, from sire to son urge all t’ observe the foe,
Familiarly, and with their praise, exciting ev’ry eye,
Not with unseason’d violence of proud authority.
We must our patience exercise, and work ourselves with them,
Jove in our births combin’d such care to either’s diadem.”
Thus he dismiss’d him, knowing well his charge before he went.
Himself to Nestor, whom he found in bed within his tent,
By him his damask curets hung, his shield, a pair of darts,
His shining casque, his arming waist; in these he led the hearts
Of his apt soldiers to sharp war, not yielding to his years.
He quickly started from his bed, when to his watchful ears
Untimely feet told some approach; he took his lance in hand,
And spake to him: “Ho, what art thou that walk’st at midnight?
Stand.
Is any wanting at the guards? Or lack’st thou any peer?
Speak, come not silent towards me; say, what intend’st thou here?”
He answer’d: “O Neleides, grave honour of our host,
’Tis Agamemnon thou mayst know, whom Jove afflicteth most
Of all the wretched men that live, and will, whilst any breath
Gives motion to my toiléd limbs, and pears me up from death.
I walk the round thus, since sweet sleep cannot inclose mine eyes,
Nor shut those organs care breaks ope for our calamities.
My fear is vehement for the Greeks; my heart, the fount of heat,
With his extreme affects made cold, without my breast doth beat;
And therefore are my sinews strook with trembling; ev’ry part
Of what my friends may feel hath act in my disperséd heart.
But, if thou think’st of any course may to our good redound,
(Since neither thou thyself canst sleep) come, walk with me the round;
In way whereof we may confer, and look to ev’ry guard,
Lest watching long, and weariness with labouring so hard,
Drown their oppresséd memories of what they have in charge.
The liberty we give the foe, alas, is over large,
Their camp is almost mix’d with ours, and we have forth no spies
To learn their drifts; who may perchance this night intend surprise.”
Grave Nestor answer’d: “Worthy king, let good hearts bear our ill.
Jove is not bound to perfect all this busy Hector’s will;
But I am confidently giv’n, his thoughts are much dismay’d
With fear, lest our distress incite Achilles to our aid,
And therefore will not tempt his fate, nor ours, with further pride.
But I will gladly follow thee, and stir up more beside;
Tydides, famous for his lance; Ulysses; Telamon;
And bold Phylëus’ valiant heir. Or else, if anyone
Would haste to call king Idomen, and Ajax, since their sail
Lie so remov’d, with much good speed, it might our haste avail.
But, though he be our honour’d friend, thy brother I will blame,
Not fearing if I anger thee. It is his utter shame
He should commit all pains to thee, that should himself employ,
Past all our princes, in the care, and cure, of our annoy,
And be so far from needing spurs to these his due respects,
He should apply our spirits himself, with pray’rs and urg’d affects.
Necessity (a law to laws, and not to be endur’d)
Makes proof of all his faculties, not sound if not inur’d.”
“Good father,” said the king, “sometimes you know I have desir’d
You would improve his negligence, too oft to ease retir’d.
Nor is it for defect of spirit, or compass of his brain,
But with observing my estate, he thinks, he should abstain
Till I commanded, knowing my place; unwilling to assume,
For being my brother, anything might prove he did presume.
But now he rose before me far, and came t’ avoid delays,
And I have sent him for the men yourself desir’d to raise.
Come, we shall find them at the guards we plac’d before the fort,
For thither my direction was they should with speed resort.”
“Why now,” said Nestor, “none will grudge, nor his just rule withstand.
Examples make excitements strong, and sweeten a command.”
Thus put he on his arming truss, fair shoes upon his feet,
About him a mandilion, that did with buttons meet,
Of purple, large, and full of folds, curl’d with a warmful nap,
A garment that ‘gainst cold in nights did soldiers use to wrap;
Then took he his strong lance in hand, made sharp with proved steel,
And went along the Grecian fleet. First at Ulysses’ keel
He call’d, to break the silken fumes that did his senses bind.
The voice through th’ organs of his ears straight rung about his mind.
Forth came Ulysses, asking him: “Why stir ye thus so late?
Sustain we such enforcive cause?” He answered, “Our estate
Doth force this perturbation; vouchsafe it, worthy friend,
And come, let us excite one more, to counsel of some end
To our extremes, by fight, or flight.” He back, and took his shield,
And both took course to Diomed. They found him laid in field,
Far from his tent; his armour by; about him was dispread
A ring of soldiers, ev’ry man his shield beneath his head;
His spear fix’d by him as he slept, the great end in the ground,
The point, that bristled the dark earth, cast a reflection round
Like palid lightnings thrown from Jove; thus this heroë lay,
And under him a big ox-hide; his royal head had stay
On arras hangings, rolléd up; whereon he slept so fast,
That Nestor stirr’d him with his foot, and chid to see him cast
In such deep sleep in such deep woes, and ask’d him why he spent
All night in sleep, or did not hear the Trojans near his tent,
Their camp drawn close up
on their dike, small space ‘twixt foes and foes?
He, starting up, said, “Strange old man, that never tak’st repose,
Thou art too patient of our toil. Have we not men more young,
To be employ’d from king to king? Thine age hath too much wrong.”
“Said like a king,” replied the sire, “for I have sons renown’d,
And there are many other men, might go this toilsome round;
But, you must see, imperious Need hath all at her command.
Now on the eager razor’s edge, for life or death, we stand 2
Then go (thou art the younger man) and if thou love my ease,
Call swift-foot Ajax up thyself, and young Phyleides.”
This said, he on his shoulders cast a yellow lion’s hide,
Big, and reach’d earth; then took his spear, and Nestor’s will applied,
Rais’d the heroes, brought them both. All met; the round they went,
And found not any captain there asleep or negligent,
But waking, and in arms, gave ear to ev’ry lowest sound.
And as keen dogs keep sheep in cotes, or folds of hurdles bound,
And grin at ev’ry breach of air, envious of all that moves,
Still list’ning when the rav’nous beast stalks through the hilly groves,
Then men and dogs stand on their guards, and mighty tumults make,
Sleep wanting weight to close one wink; so did the captains wake,
That kept the watch the whole sad night, all with intentive ear
Converted to the enemies’ tents, that they might timely hear
If they were stirring to surprise; which Nestor joy’d to see.
“Why so, dear sons, maintain your watch, sleep not a wink,” said he,
“Rather than make your fames the scorn of Trojan perjury.”
This said, he foremost passed the dike, the others seconded,
Ev’n all the kings that had been call’d to council from the bed,
And with them went Meriones, and Nestor’s famous son;
For both were call’d by all the kings to consultation.
Beyond the dike they choos’d a place, near as they could from blood,
Where yet appear’d the falls of some, and whence, the crimson flood
Of Grecian lives being pour’d on earth by Hector’s furious chace,
He made retreat, when night repour’d grim darkness in his face.
There sat they down, and Nestor spake: “O friends, remains not one
That will rely on his bold mind, and view the camp, alone,
Of the proud Trojans, to approve if any straggling mate
He can surprise near th’ utmost tents, or learn the brief estate
Of their intentions for the time, and mix like one of them
With their outguards, expiscating if the renown’d extreme
They force on us will serve their turns, with glory to retire,
Or still encamp thus far from Troy? This may he well inquire,
And make a brave retreat untouch’d; and this would win him fame
Of all men canopied with heav’n, and ev’ry man of name,
In all this host shall honour him with an enriching meed,
A black ewe and her sucking lamb (rewards that now exceed
All other best possessions, in all men’s choice requests)
And still be bidden by our kings to kind and royal feasts.”
All rev’renc’d one another’s worth; and none would silence break,
Lest worst should take best place of speech; at last did Diomed speak:
“Nestor, thou ask’st if no man here have heart so well inclin’d
To work this stratagem on Troy? Yes, I have such a mind.
Yet, if some other prince would join, more probable will be
The strengthen’d hope of our exploit. Two may together see
(One going before another still) sly danger ev’ry way;
One spirit upon another works, and takes with firmer stay
The benefit of all his pow’rs; for though one knew his course,
Yet might he well distrust himself, which the other might enforce.”
This offer ev’ry man assum’d, all would with Diomed go;
The two Ajaces, Merion, and Menelaus too;
But Nestor’s son enforc’d it much; and hardy Ithacus,
Who had to ev’ry vent’rous deed a mind as venturous.
Amongst all these thus spake the king: “Tydides, most belov’d,
Choose thy associate worthily; a man the most approv’d
For use and strength in these extremes. Many thou seest stand forth;
But choose not thou by height of place, but by regard of worth,
Lest with thy nice respect of right to any man’s degree,
Thou wrong’st thy venture, choosing one least fit to join with thee,
Although perhaps a greater king.” This spake he with suspect
That Diomed, for honour’s sake, his brother would select.
Then said Tydides: “Since thou giv’st my judgment leave to choose,
How can it so much truth forget Ulysses to refuse,
That bears a mind so most exempt, and vig’rous in th’ effect
Of all high labours, and a man Pallas doth most respect?
We shall return through burning fire, if I with him combine,
He sets strength in so true a course, with counsels so divine.”
Ulysses, loth to be esteem’d a lover of his praise,
With such exceptions humbled him as did him higher raise,
And said: “Tydides, praise me not more than free truth will bear,
Nor yet impair me; they are Greeks that give judicial ear.
But come, the morning hastes, the stars are forward in their course,
Two parts of night are past, the third is left t’ employ our force.”
Now borrow’d they for haste some arms. Bold Thrasymedes lent
Advent’rous Diomed his sword (his own was at his tent),
His shield, and helm tough and well-tann’d, without or plume or crest,
And call’d a murrion, archers’ heads it uséd to invest.
Meriones lent Ithacus his quiver and his bow,
His helmet fashion’d of a hide; the workman did bestow
Much labour in it, quilting it with bow-strings, and, without
With snowy tusks of white-mouth’d boars ’twas arméd round about
Right cunningly, and in the midst an arming cap was plac’d,
That with the fix’d ends of the tusks his head might not be ras’d.
This, long since, by Autolycus was brought from Eleon,
When he laid waste Amyntor’s house, that was Ormenus’ son:
In Scandia, to Cytherius, surnam’d Amphidamas,
Autolycus did give this helm; he, when he feasted was
By honour’d Molus, gave it him, as present of a guest;
Molus to his son Merion did make it his bequest.
With this Ulysses arm’d his head; and thus they, both address’d,
Took leave of all the other kings. To them a glad ostent,
As they were ent’ring on their way, Minerva did present,
A hernshaw consecrate to her, which they could ill discern
Through sable night, but, by her clange, they knew it was a hern.
Ulysses joy’d, and thus invok’d: “Hear me, great Seed of Jove,
That ever dost my labours grace with presence of thy love,
And all my motions dost attend! Still love me, sacred Dame,
Especially in this exploit, and so protect our fame
We both may safely make retreat, and thriftily employ
Our boldness in some great affair baneful to them of Troy.”
Then pray’d illustrate Diomed: “Vouchsafe me likewise ear,
O thou unconquer’d Queen of arms! Be with thy favours near,
As, to my royal father’s steps, thou went’st a bounteous g
uide,
When th’ Achives and the peers of Thebes he would have pacified,
Sent as the Greeks’ ambassador, and left them at the flood
Of great Æsopus; whose retreat thou mad’st to swim in blood
Of his enambush’d enemies; and, if thou so protect
My bold endeavours, to thy name an heifer most select,
That never yet was tam’d with yoke, broad-fronted, one year old,
I’ll burn in zealous sacrifice, and set the horns in gold.”
The Goddess heard; and both the kings their dreadless passage bore
Through slaughter, slaughter’d carcassed, arms, and discolour’d gore,
Nor Hector let his princes sleep, but all to council call’d,
And ask’d, “What one is here will vow, and keep it unappall’d,
To have a gift fit for his deed, a chariot and two horse,
That pass for speed the rest of Greece? What one dares take this course,
For his renown, besides his gifts, to mix amongst the foe,
And learn if still they hold their guards, or with this overthrow
Determine flight, as being too weak to hold us longer war?”
All silent stood; at last stood forth one Dolon, that did dare
This dang’rous work, Eumedes’ heir, a herald much renown’d.
This Dolon did in gold and brass exceedingly abound,
But in his form was quite deform’d, yet passing swift to run;
Amongst five sisters, he was left Eumedes’ only son.
And he told Hector, his free heart would undertake t’ explore
The Greeks’ intentions, “but,” said he, “thou shalt be sworn before,
By this thy sceptre, that the horse of great Æacides,
And his strong chariot bound with brass, thou wilt (before all these)
Resign me as my valour’s prise; and so I rest unmov’d
To be thy spy, and not return before I have approv’d
(By vent’ring to Atrides’ ship, where their consults are held)
If they resolve still to resist, or fly as quite expell’d.”
He put his sceptre in his hand, and call’d the thunder’s God,
Saturnia’s husband, to his oath, those horse should not be rode
By any other man than he, but he for ever joy
(To his renown) their services, for his good done to Troy.
Thus swore he, and forswore himself, yet made base Dolon bold;
Who on his shoulders hung his bow, and did about him fold
A white wolf’s hide, and with a helm of weasels’ skins did arm
His weasel’s head, then took his dart, and never turn’d to harm
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 71