For all the army of the Greeks? For this hath Ilion sworn,
And trod all faith beneath their feet? Yet all this hath not worn
The right we challeng’d out of force; this cannot render vain
Our stricken right hands, sacred wine, nor all our off’rings slain;
For though Olympius be not quick in making good our ill,
He will be sure as he is slow, and sharplier prove his will.
Their own hands shall be ministers of those plagues they despise,
Which shall their wives and children reach, and all their progenies.
For both in mind and soul I know, that there shall come a day
When Ilion, Priam, all his pow’r, shall quite be worn away,
When heav’n-inhabiting Jove shall shake his fiery shield at all,
For this one mischief. This, I know, the world cannot recall.
But be all this, all my grief still for thee will be the same,
Dear brother. If thy life must here put out his royal flame,
I shall to sandy Argos turn with infamy my face;
And all the Greeks will call for home; old Priam and his race
Will flame in glory; Helena untouch’d be still their prey;
And thy bones in our enemies’ earth our curséd fates shall lay;
Thy sepulchre be trodden down; the pride of Troy desire
Insulting on it, ‘Thus, O thus, let Agamemnon’s ire
In all his acts be expiate, as now he carries home
His idle army, empty ships, and leaves here overcome
Good Menelaus.’ When this rave breaks in their bated breath,
Then let the broad earth swallow me, and take me quick to death.”
“Nor shall this ever chance,” said he, “and therefore be of cheer,
Lest all the army, led by you, your passions put in fear.
The arrow fell in no such place a death could enter at,
My girdle, curets doubled here, and my most trusted plate,
Objected all ‘twixt me and death, the shaft scarce piercing one.”
“Good brother,” said the king, “I wish it were no further gone,
For then our best in med’cines skilled shall ope and search the wound,
Applying balms to ease thy pains, and soon restore thee sound.”
This said, divine Talthybiús he call’d, and bad him haste
Machaon (Æsculapius’ son, who most of men was grac’d
With physic’s sov’reign remedies) to come and lend his hand
To Menelaus, shot by one well-skill’d in the command
Of bow and arrows, one of Troy, or of the Lycian aid,
Who much hath glorified our foe, and us as much dismay’d.
He heard, and hasted instantly, and cast his eyes about
The thickest squadrons of the Greeks, to find Machaon out.
He found him standing guarded well with well-arm’d men of Thrace;
With whom he quickly join’d, and said: “Man of Apollo’s race,
Haste, for the king of men commands, to see a wound impress’d
In Menelaus, great in arms, by one instructed best
In th’ art of archery, of Troy, or of the Lycian bands,
That them with much renown adorns, us with dishonour brands.”
Machaon much was mov’d with this, who with the herald flew
From troop to troop alongst the host; and soon they came in view
Of hurt Atrides, circled round with all the Grecian kings;
Who all gave way, and straight he draws the shaft, which forth he brings
Without the forks; the girdle then, plate, curets, off he plucks,
And views the wound; when first from it the clotter’d blood he sucks,
Then med’cines, wondrously compos’d, the skilful leech applied,
Which loving Chiron taught his sire, he from his sire had tried.
While these were thus employ’d to ease the Atrean martialist,
The Trojans arm’d, and charg’d the Greeks; the Greeks arm and resist.
Then not asleep, nor maz’d with fear, nor shifting off the blows,
You could behold the king of men, but in full speed he goes
To set a glorious fight on foot; and he examples this,
With toiling, like the worst, on foot; who therefore did dismiss
His brass-arm’d chariot, and his steeds, with Ptolemëus’ son,
Son of Piraides, their guide, the good Eurymedon;
“Yet,” said the king, “attend with them, lest weariness should seize
My limbs, surcharg’d with ord’ring troops so thick and vast as these.”
Eurymedon then rein’d his horse, that trotted neighing by;
The king a footman, and so scours the squadrons orderly.
Those of his swiftly-mounted Greeks, that in their arms were fit,
Those he put on with cheerful words, and bad them not remit
The least spark of their forward spirits, because the Trojans durst
Take these abhorr’d advantages, but let them do their worst;
For they might be assur’d that Jove would patronise no lies,
And that who, with the breach of truce, would hurt their enemies,
With vultures should be torn themselves; that they should raze their town,
Their wives, and children at their breast, led vassals to their own.
But such as he beheld hang of from that increasing fight,
Such would he bitterly rebuke, and with disgrace excite:
“Base Argives, blush ye not to stand as made for butts to darts?
Why are ye thus discomfited, like hinds that have no hearts,
Who, wearied with a long-run field, are instantly emboss’d,
Stand still, and in their beastly breasts is all their courage lost?
And so stand you strook with amaze, nor dare to strike a stroke.
Would ye the foe should nearer yet your dastard spleens provoke,
Ev’n where on Neptune’s foamy shore our navies lie in sight,
To see if Jove will hold your hands, and teach ye how to fight?”
Thus he, commanding, rang’d the host, and, passing many a band,
He came to the Cretensian troops, where all did arméd stand
About the martial Idomen; who bravely stood before
In vanguard of his troops, and match’d for strength a savage boar;
Meriones, his charioteer, the rearguard bringing on.
Which seen to Atreus’ son, to him it was a sight alone,
And Idomen’s confirméd mind with these kind words he seeks:
“O Idomen! I ever lov’d thy self past all the Greeks,
In war, or any work of peace, at table, ev’rywhere;
For when the best of Greece besides mix ever, at our cheer,
My good old ardent wine with small, and our inferior mates
Drink ev’n that mix’d wine measur’d too, thou drink’st, without those rates,
Our old wine neat, and evermore thy bowl stands full like mine,
To drink still when and what thou wilt. Then rouse that heart of thine,
And, whatsoever heretofore thou hast assum’d to be,
This day be greater.” To the king in this sort answer’d he:
“Atrides, what I ever seem’d, the same at ev’ry part
This day shall show me at the full, and I will fit thy heart.
But thou shouldst rather cheer the rest, and tell them they in right
Of all good war must offer blows, and should begin the fight,
(Since Troy first brake the holy truce) and not endure these braves.
To take wrong first, and then be dar’d to the revenge it craves;
Assuring them that Troy in fate must have the worst at last,
Since first, and ‘gainst a truce, they hurt, where they should have embrac’d.”
This comfort and advice did fit Atrides’ heart indeed
Who still through ne
w-rais’d swarms of men held his laborious speed,
And came where both th’ Ajaces stood; whom like the last he found
Arm’d, casqu’d, and ready for the fight. Behind them, hid the ground
A cloud of foot, that seem’d to smoke. And as a goatherd spies,
On some hill’s top, out of the sea a rainy vapour rise,
Driv’n by the breath of Zephyrus which, though far off he rest,
Comes on as black as pitch, and brings a tempest in his breast,
Whereat he frighted, drives his herds apace into a den;
So dark’ning earth with darts and shields show’d these with all their men.
This sight with like joy fir’d the king, who thus let forth the flame
In crying out to both the dukes: “O you of equal name,
I must not cheer, nay, I disclaim all my command of you,
Yourselves command with such free minds, and make your soldiers show
As you nor I led, but themselves. O would our father Jove,
Minerva, and the God of Light, would all our bodies move
With such brave spirits as breathe in you, then Priam’s lofty town
Should soon be taken by our hands, for ever overthrown!”
Then held he on to other troops, and Nestor next beheld,
The subtle Pylian orator, range up and down the field
Embattelling his men at arms, and stirring all to blows,
Points ev’ry legion out his chief, and ev’ry chief he shows
The forms and discipline of war, yet his commanders were
All expert, and renownéd men. Great Pelagon was there,
Alastor, manly Chromius, and Hæmon worth a throne,
Arid Bias that could armies lead. With these he first put on
His horse troops with their chariots; his foot (of which he choos’d
Many, the best and ablest men, and which he ever us’d
As rampire to his gen’ral pow’r) he in the rear dispos’d.
The slothful, and the least of spirit, he in the midst inclos’d,
That, such as wanted noble wills, base need might force to stand.
His horse troops, that the vanguard had, he strictly did command
To ride their horses temp’rately, to keep their ranks, and shun
Confusion, lest their horsemanship and courage made them run
(Too much presum’d on) much too far, and, charging so alone,
Engage themselves in th’ enemy’s strength, where many fight with one.
“Who his own chariot leaves to range, let him not freely go,
But straight unhorse him with a lance; for ’tis much better so.
And with this discipline,” said he, “this form, these minds, this trust,
Our ancestors have walls and towns laid level with the dust.”
Thus prompt, and long inur’d to arms, this old man did exhort;
And this Atrides likewise took in wondrous cheerful sort,
And said: “O father, would to heav’n, that as thy mind remains
In wonted vigour, so thy knees could undergo our pains!
But age, that all men overcomes, hath made his prise on thee;
Yet still I wish that some young man, grown old in mind, might be
Put in proportion with thy years, and thy mind, young in age,
Be fitly answer’d with his youth; that still where conflicts rage,
And young men us’d to thirst for fame, thy brave exampling hand
Might double our young Grecian spirits, and grace our whole command.”
The old knight answer’d: “I myself could wish, O Atreus’ son,
I were as young as when I slew brave Ereuthalion,
But Gods at all times give not all their gifts to mortal men.
If then I had the strength of youth, I miss’d the counsels then
That years now give me; and now years want that main strength of youth;
Yet still my mind retains her strength (as you now said the sooth)
And would be where that strength is us’d, affording counsel sage
To stir youth’s minds up; ’tis the grace and office of our age;
Let younger sinews, men sprung up whole ages after me,
And such as have strength, use it, and as strong in honour be.”
The king, all this while comforted, arriv’d next where he found
Well-rode Menestheus (Peteus’ son) stand still, inviron’d round
With his well-train’d Athenian troops, and next to him he spied
The wise Ulysses, deedless too, and all his bands beside
Of strong Cephalians; for as yet th’ alarm had not been heard
In all their quarters, Greece and Troy were then so newly stirr’d,
And then first mov’d, as they conceiv’d; and they so look’d about
To see both hosts give proof of that they yet had cause to doubt.
Atrides seeing them stand so still, and spend their eyes at gaze,
Began to chide: “And why,” said he, “dissolv’d thus in amaze,
Thou son of Peteus, Jove-nurs’d king, and thou in wicked sleight
A cunning soldier, stand ye off? Expect ye that the fight
Should be by other men begun? “Tis fit the foremost band
Should show you there; you first should front who first lifts up his hand.
First you can hear, when I invite the princes to a feast,
When first, most friendly, and at will, ye eat and drink the best,
Yet in the fight, most willingly, ten troops ye can behold
Take place before ye.” Ithacus at this his brows did fold,
And said: “How hath thy violent tongue broke through thy set of teeth,
To say that we are slack in fight, and to the field of death
Look others should enforce our way, when we were busied then,
Ev’n when thou spak’st, against the foe to cheer and lead our men?
But thy eyes shall be witnesses, if it content thy will,
And that (as thou pretend’st) these cares do so affect thee still,
The father of Telemachus (whom I esteem so dear,
And to whom, as a legacy, I’ll leave my deeds done here)
Ev’n with the foremost band of Troy hath his encounter dar’d,
And therefore are thy speeches vain, and had been better spar’d.”
He, smiling, since he saw him mov’d, recall’d his words, and said:
“Most generous Laertes’ son, most wise of all our aid,
I neither do accuse thy worth, more than thyself may hold
Fit, (that inferiors think not much, being slack, to be controll’d)
Nor take I on me thy command; for well I know thy mind
Knows how sweet gentle counsels are, and that thou stand’st inclin’d,
As I myself, for all our good. On then; if now we spake
What hath displeas’d, another time we full amends will make;
And Gods grant that thy virtue ere may prove so free and brave,
That my reproofs may still be vain, and thy deservings grave.”
Thus parted they; and forth he went, when he did leaning find,
Against his chariot, near his horse, him with the mighty mind,
Great Diomedes, Tydeus’ son, and Sthenelus, the seed
Of Capaneius; whom the king seeing likewise out of deed,
Thus cried he out on Diomed: “O me! In what a fear
The wise great warrior, Tydeus’ son, stands gazing ev’rywhere
For others to begin the fight! It was not Tydeus’ use
To be so daunted, whom his spirit would evermore produce
Before the foremost of his friends in these affairs of fright,
As they report that have beheld him labour in a fight.
For me, I never knew the man, nor in his presence came,
But excellent, above the rest, he was in gen’ral fame;
And one renown’d exploit of his, I am assu
r’d, is true.
He came to the Mycenian court, without arms, and did sue,
At godlike Polynices’ hands, to have some worthy aid
To their designs that ‘gainst the walls of sacred Thebes were laid.
He was great Polynices’ guest, and nobly entertain’d,
And of the kind Mycenian state what he requested gain’d,
In mere consent; but when they should the same in act approve,
By some sinister prodigies, held out to them by Jove,
They were discourag’d. Thence he went, and safely had his pass
Back to Asopus’ flood, renown’d for bulrushes and grass.
Yet, once more, their ambassador, the Grecian peers address
Lord Tydeus to Eteocles; to whom being giv’n access,
He found him feasting with a crew of Cadmeans in his hall;
Amongst whom, though an enemy, and only one to all;
To all yet he his challenge made at ev’ry martial feat,
And eas’ly foil’d all, since with him Minerva was so great.
The rank-rode Cadmeans, much incens’d with their so foul disgrace,
Lodg’d ambuscadoes for their foe, in some well-chosen place
By which he was to make return. Twice five-and-twenty men,
And two of them great captains too, the ambush did contain.
The names of those two men of rule were Mæon, Hæmon’s son,
And Lycophontes, Keep-field call’d, the heir of Autophon,
By all men honour’d like the Gods; yet these and all their friends
Were sent to hell by Tydeus’ hand, and had untimely ends.
He trusting to the aid of Gods, reveal’d by augury,
Obeying which, one chief he sav’d, and did his life apply
To be the heavy messenger of all the others’ deaths;
And that sad message, with his life, to Mæon he bequeaths.
So brave a knight was Tydeüs of whom a son is sprung,
Inferior far in martial deeds, though higher in his tongue.”
All this Tydides silent heard, aw’d by the rev’rend king;
Which stung hot Sthenelus with wrath, who thus put forth his sting:
“Atrides, when thou know’st the truth, speak what thy knowledge is,
And do not lie so; for I know and I will brag in this,
That we are far more able men than both our fathers were.
We took the sev’n-fold ported Thebes, when yet we had not there
So great help as our fathers had; and fought beneath a wall,
Sacred to Mars, by help of Jove, and trusting to the fall
Of happy signs from other Gods, by whom we took the town
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 57
