The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

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by George Chapman


  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.

  THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH BOOK.

  ENDNOTES.

  1 The empire of Jove exceeded Neptune’s (saith Plut. upon this place) because he was more ancient, and excellent in knowledge and wisdom; and upon this verse, viz. ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς πρότερος, etc., sets down this his most worthy to be noted opinion: viz. I think also that the blessedness of eternal life, which God enjoys is this: that by any past time He forgets not notions presently apprehended; for otherwise, the knowledge and understanding of things taken away, immortality should not be life, but time, etc. (Plut. de Iside et Osiride).

  THE FOURTEENTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ILIADS

  THE ARGUMENT

  Atrides, to behold the skirmish, brings

  Old Nestor, and the other wounded kings.

  Juno (receiving of the Cyprian dame

  Her Ceston, whence her sweet enticements came)

  Descends to Somnus, and gets him to bind

  The pow’rs of Jove with sleep, to free her mind.

  Neptune assists the Greeks, and of the foe

  Slaughter inflicts a mighty overthrow.

  Ajax so sore strikes Hector with a stone,

  It makes him spit blood, and his sense sets gone.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT

  In Ξ with sleep, and bed, heav’n’s Queen

  Ev’n Jove himself makes overseen.

  Not wine, nor feasts, could lay their soft chains on old Nestor’s ear

  To this high clamour, who requir’d Machaon’s thoughts to bear

  His care in part, about the cause; “For, methink, still,” said he,

  “The cry increases. I must needs the watchtow’r mount, to see

  Which way the flood of war doth drive. Still drink thou wine, and eat,

  Till fair-hair’d Hecamed hath giv’n a little water heat

  To cleanse the quitture from thy wound.” This said, the goodly shield

  Of warlike Thrasymed, his son, who had his own in field,

  He took, snatch’d up a mighty lance, and so stept forth to view

  Cause of that clamour. Instantly th’ unworthy cause he knew,

  The Grecians wholly put in rout, the Trojans routing still,

  Close at the Greeks’ backs, their wall raz’d. The old man mourn’d this ill;

  And, as when with unwieldy waves the great sea fore-feels winds

  That both ways murmur, and no way her certain current finds,

  But pants and swells confusedly, here goes, and there will stay,

  Till on it air casts one firm wind, and then it rolls away;

  So stood old Nestor in debate, two thoughts at once on wing

  In his discourse, if first to take direct course to the king,

  Or to the multitude in fight. At last he did conclude

  To visit Agamemnon first. Mean time both hosts imbrued

  Their steel in one another’s blood, nought wrought their healths but harms,

  Swords, huge stones, double-headed darts, still thumping on their arms.

  And now the Jove-kept kings, whose wounds were yet in cure, did meet

  Old Nestor, Diomed, Ithacus, and Atreus’ sons, from fleet

  Bent for the fight which was far off, the ships being drawn to shore

  On heaps at first, till all their sterns a wall was rais’d before,

  Which, though not great, it yet suffic’d to hide them, though their men

  Were something straited; for whose scope, in form of battle then,

  They drew them through the spacious shore, one by another still,

  Till all the bosom of the strand their sable bulks did fill,

  Ev’n till they took up all the spa
ce ‘twixt both the promont’ries.

  These kings, like Nestor, in desire to know for what those cries

  Became so violent, came along, all leaning on their darts,

  To see, though not of pow’r to fight, sad and suspicious hearts

  Distemp’ring them; and, meeting now Nestor, the king in fear

  Cried out: “O Nestor our renown! Why shows thy presence here,

  The harmful fight abandoned? Now Hector will make good

  The threat’ning vow he made, I fear, that, till he had our blood,

  And fir’d our fleet, he never more would turn to Ilion.

  Nor is it long, I see, before his whole will will be done.

  O Gods! I now see all the Greeks put on Achilles’ ire

  Against my honour; no mean left to keep our fleet from fire.”

  He answer’d: “’Tis an evident truth, not Jove himself can now,

  With all the thunder in his hands, prevent our overthrow.

  The wall we thought invincible, and trusted more than Jove,

  Is scal’d, raz’d, enter’d; and our pow’rs (driv’n up) past breathing, prove

  A most inevitable fight; both slaughters so commix’d,

  That for your life you cannot put your diligent’st thought betwixt

  The Greeks and Trojans, and as close their throats cleave to the sky.

  Consult we then, if that will serve. For fight advise not I;

  It fits not wounded men to fight.” Atrides answer’d him:

  “If such a wall as cost the Greeks so many a tiréd limb,

  And such a dike be pass’d, and raz’d, that, as yourself said well,

  We all esteem’d invincible, and would past doubt repell

  The world from both our fleet and us; it doth directly show

  That here Jove vows our shames and deaths. I evermore did know

  His hand from ours when he help’d us, and now I see as clear

  That, like the blesséd Gods, he holds our hated enemies dear,

  Supports their arms, and pinions ours. Conclude then, ’tis in vain

  To strive with him. Our ships drawn up, now let us launch again,

  And keep at anchor till calm night, that then, perhaps, our foes

  May calm their storms, and in that time our scape we may dispose.

  ‘It is not any shame to fly from ill, although by night.

  Known ill he better does that flies, than he it takes in fight.’”

  Ulysses frown’d on him, and said: “Accurs’d, why talk’st thou thus?

  Would thou hadst led some barb’rous host, and not commanded us

 

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