The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  Ev’n by our own deep councils, held for gratifying them;

  And thou, our council’s president, conclud’st in this extreme

  Of fighting ever; being rul’d by one that thou hast bred;

  One never well, but doing ill; a girl so full of head

  That, though all other Gods obey, her mad moods must command,

  By thy indulgence, nor by word, nor any touch of hand,

  Correcting her; thy reason is, she is a spark of thee,

  And therefore she may kindle rage in men ‘gainst Gods, and she

  May make men hurt Gods, and those Gods that are besides thy seed.

  First in the palm’s hit Cyprides; then runs the impious deed

  On my hurt person; and, could life give way to death in me,

  Or had my feet not fetched me off, heaps of mortality

  Had kept me consort.” Jupiter, with a contracted brow,

  Thus answered Mars: “Thou many minds, inconstant changeling thou,

  Sit not complaining thus by me, whom most of all the Gods,

  Inhabiting the starry hill, I hate; no periods

  Being set to thy contentions, brawls, fights, and pitching fields;

  Just of thy mother Juno’s moods, stiff-neck’d, and never yields,

  Though I correct her still, and chide, nor can forbear offence,

  Though to her son; this wound I know tastes of her insolence;

  But I will prove more natural; thou shalt be cur’d, because

  Thou com’st of me, but hadst thou been so cross to sacred laws,

  Being born to any other God, thou had’st been thrown from heav’n

  Long since, as low as Tartarus, beneath the giants driv’n.”

  This said, he gave his wound in charge to Pæon, who applied

  Such sov’reign med’cines, that as soon the pain was qualified,

  And he recur’d; as nourishing milk, when runnet is put in,

  Runs all in heaps of tough thick curd, though in his nature thin,

  Ev’n so soon his wound’s parted sides ran close in his recure;

  For he, all deathless, could not long the parts of death endure,

  Then Hebe bath’d, and put on him fresh garments, and he sate

  Exulting by his sire again, in top of all his state.

  So, having, from the spoils of men, made his desir’d remove,

  Juno and Pallas re-ascend the starry court of Jove.

  THE END OF THE FIFTH BOOK.

  ENDNOTES.

  1 This simile likewise Virgil learns of him.

  2 How far a heavenly horse took at one reach or stroke in galloping or running; wherein Homer’s mind is far from being expressed in his interpreters, all taking it for how far Deities were borne from the earth, when instantly they came down to earth: τόσσον ἐπιθρώσκουσι, etc. tantun uno saltu conficiunt, vel, tantum subsultim progrediuntur, deorum altizoni equi, etc. uno being understood, and the horse’s swiftness highly expressed. The sense, otherwise, is senseless and contradictory.

  3 ᾽Αμβροσίην is the original word, which Scaliger taxeth very learnedly, asking how the horse came by it on those banks, when the text tells him Simois produced it; being willing to express by hyperbole the delicacy of that soil. If not, I hope the Deities could ever command it.

  THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ILIADS

  THE ARGUMENT

  The Gods now leaving an indiff’rent field,

  The Greeks prevail, the slaughter’d Trojans yield.

  Hector, by Helenus’ advice, retires

  In haste to Troy, and Hecuba desires

  To pray Minerva to remove from fight

  The son of Tydeus, her affected knight,

  And vow to her, for favour of such price,

  Twelve oxen should be slain in sacrifice.

  In mean space Glaucus and Tydides meet;

  And either other with remembrance greet

  Of old love ‘twixt their fathers, which inclines

  Their hearts to friendship; who change arms for signs

  Of a continu’d love for either’s life.

  Hector, in his return, meets with his wife,

  And, taking in his arméd arms his son,

  He prophesies the fall of Ilion.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT

  In Zeta, Hector prophesies;

  Prays for his son; wills sacrifice.

  The stern fight freed of all the Gods, conquest with doubtful wings

  Flew on their lances; ev’ry way the restless field she flings

  Betwixt the floods of Simois and Xanthus, that confin’d

  All their affairs of Ilion, and round about them shin’d.

  The first that weigh’d down all the field, of one particular side,

  Was Ajax, son of Telamon; who, like a bulwark, plied

  The Greeks’ protection, and of Troy the knotty orders brake,

  Held out a light to all the rest, and showed them how to make

  Way to their conquest, He did wound the strongest man of Thrace,

  The tallest and the biggest set, Eussorian Acamas;

  His lance fell on his casque’s plum’d top, in stooping; the fell head

  Drave through his forehead to his jaws; his eyes night shadowéd.

  Tydides slew Teuthranides Axylus, that did dwell,

  In fair Arisba’s well-built tow’rs. He had of wealth a well,

  And yet was kind and bountiful; he would a traveller pray

  To be his guest, his friendly house stood in the broad highway,

  In which he all sorts nobly us’d; yet none of them would stand

  ‘Twixt him and death, but both himself, and he that had command

  Of his fair horse, Calesius, fell lifeless on the ground.

  Euryalus, Opheltius and Dresus dead did wound;

  Nor ended there his fi’ry course, which he again begins,

  And ran to it successfully, upon a pair of twins,

  Æsepus, and bold Pedasus, whom good Bucolion

  (That first call’d father, though base-born, renown’d Laomedon)

  On Nais Abarbaræa got, a nymph that, as she fed

  Her curléd flocks, Bucolion woo’d, and mix’d in love and bed.

  Both these were spoiled of arms and life, by Mecistiades.

  Then Polypœtes, for stern death, Astyalus did seize;

  Ulysses slew Percosius; Teucer Aretaön;

  Antilochus (old Nestor’s joy) Ablerus; the great son

  Of Atreüs, and king of men, Elatus, whose abode:

  He held at upper Pedasus, where Satnius’ river flowed;

  The great heroë Leitus stay’d Phylacus in flight

  From further life; Eurypylus, Melanthius reft of light.

  The brother to the king of men, Adrestus took alive;

  Whose horse, affrighted with the flight, their driver now did drive

  Amongst the low-grown tam’risk trees, and at an arm of one

  The chariot in the draught-tree brake; the horse brake loose, and ron

  The same way other flyers fled, contending all to town;

  Himself close at the chariot wheel, upon his face was thrown,

  And there lay flat, rolled up in dust. Atrides inwards drave;

  And, holding at his breast his lance, Adrestus sought to save

  His head by losing of his feet, and trusting to his knees;

  On which the same parts of the king he hugs, and offers fees

  Of worthy value for his life, and thus pleads their receipt:

  “Take me alive, O Atreus’ son, and take a worthy weight

  Of brass, elab’rate iron, and gold. 1 A heap of precious things

  Are in my father’s riches hid, which, when your servant brings

  News of my safety to his ears, he largely will divide

  With your rare bounties.” Atreus’ son thought this the better side,

  And meant to take it, being about to send him safe to fleet;

  Which when, far off, his brother saw, he wing�
��d his royal feet,

  And came in threat’ning, crying out: “O soft heart! What’s the cause

  Thou spar’st these men thus? Have not they observ’d these gentle laws

  Of mild humanity to thee, with mighty argument

  Why thou shouldst deal thus; in thy house, and with all precedent

  Of honour’d guest-rites, entertain’d? Not one of them shall fly

  A bitter end for it from heav’n, and much less, dotingly,

  ‘Scape our revengeful fingers; all, ev’n th’ infant in the womb,

  Shall taste of what they merited, and have no other tomb

  Than razéd Ilion; nor their race have more fruit than the dust.”

  This just cause turn’d his brother’s mind, who violently thrust

  The pris’ner from him; in whose guts the king of men impress’d

  His ashen lance, which (pitching down his foot upon the breast

  Of him that upwards fell) he drew; then Nestor spake to all:

  “O friends, and household men of Mars, let not your púrsuit fall,

  With those ye fell, for present spoil; nor, like the king of men,

  Let any ‘scape unfell’d; but on, dispatch them all, and then

  Ye shall have time enough to spoil.” This made so strong their chace,

  That all the Trojans had been hous’d, and never turned a face,

  Had not the Priamist Helenus, an augur most of name,

  Will’d Hector and Æneas thus: “Hector! Anchises’ fame!

  Since on your shoulders, with good cause, the weighty burden lies

  Of Troy and Lycia (being both of noblest faculties

  For counsel, strength of hand, and apt to take chance at her best

  In ev’ry turn she makes) stand fast, and suffer not the rest,

  By any way search’d out for ‘scape, to come within the ports,

  Lest, fled into their wives’ kind arms, they there be made the sports

  Of the pursuing enemy. Exhort, and force your bands

  To turn their faces; and, while we employ our ventur’d hands,

  Though in a hard conditión, to make the other stay,

  Hector, go thou to Ilion, and our queen-mother pray

  To take the richest robe she hath; the same that’s chiefly dear

  To her court fancy; with which gem, assembling more to her

  Of Troy’s chief matrons, let all go, for fear of all our fates,

  To Pallas’ temple, take the key, unlock the leavy gates,

  Enter, and reach the highest tow’r, where her Palladium stands,

  And on it put the precious veil with pure and rev’rend hands,

  And vow to her, besides the gift, a sacrificing stroke

  Of twelve fat heifers-of-a-year, that never felt the yoke,

  (Most answ’ring to her maiden state) if she will pity us,

  Our town, our wives, our youngest joys, and him, that plagues them thus,

  Take from the conflict, Diomed, that fury in a fight,

  That true son of great Tydeús, that cunning lord of flight,

  Whom I esteem the strongest Greek; for we have never fled

  Achilles, that is prince of men, and whom a Goddess bred,

  Like him; his fury flies so high, and all men’s wraths commands.”

  Hector intends his brother’s will, but first through all his bands

  He made quick way, encouraging; and all, to fear afraid,

  All turn’d their heads, and made Greece turn. Slaughter stood still dismay’d

  On their parts, for they thought some God, fall’n from the vault of stars,

  Was rush’d into the Ilions’ aid, they made such dreadful wars.

  Thus Hector, toiling in the waves, and thrusting back the flood

  Of his ebb’d forces, thus takes leave: “So, so, now runs your blood

  In his right current; forwards now, Trojans, and far-call’d friends!

  Awhile hold out, till, for success to this your brave amends,

  I haste to Ilion, and procure our counsellors and wives

  To pray, and offer hecatombs, for their states in our lives.”

  Then fair-helm’d Hector turn’d to Troy, and, as he trode the field,

  The black bull’s hide, that at his back he wore about his shield,

  In the extreme circumference, was with his gait so rock’d,

  That, being large, it both at once his neck and ankles knock’d.

  And now betwixt the hosts were met, Hippolochus’ brave son,

  Glaucus, who in his very look hope of some wonder won,

  And little Tydeus’ mighty heir; who seeing such a man

  Offer the field, for usual blows, with wondrous words began:

  “What art thou, strong’st of mortal men, that putt’st so far before,

  Whom these fights never show’d mine eyes? They have been evermore

  Sons of unhappy parents born, that came within the length

  Of this Minerva-guided lance, and durst close with the strength

  That she inspires in me. If heav’n be thy divine abode,

  And thou a Deity thus inform’d, no more with any God

  Will I change lances. The strong son of Dryus did not live

  Long after such a conflict dar’d, who godlessly did drive

  Nysæus’ nurses through the hill made sacred to his name,

  And called Nysseius; with a goad he punch’d each furious dame,

  And made them ev’ry one cast down their green and leavy spears.

  This th’ homicide Lycurgus did; and those ungodly fears,

  He put the froes in, seiz’d their God. Ev’n Bacchus he did drive

  From his Nysseius; who was fain, with huge exclaims, to dive

  Into the ocean. Thetis there in her bright bosom took

  The flying Deity; who so fear’d Lycurgus’ threats, he shook.

  For which the freely-living Gods so highly were incens’d,

  That Saturn’s great Son strook him blind, and with his life dispens’d

  But small time after; all because th’ Immortals lov’d him not,

  Nor lov’d him since he striv’d with them; and his end hath begot

  Fear in my pow’rs to fight with heav’n. But, if the fruits of earth

  Nourish thy body, and thy life be of our human birth,

  Come near, that thou mayst soon arrive on that life-bounding shore,

  To which I see thee hoise such sail.” “Why dost thou so explore,”

  Said Glaucus, “of what race I am, when like the race of leaves

  The race of man is, that deserves no question; nor receives

  My being any other breath? The wind in autumn strows

  The earth with old leaves then the spring the woods with new endows;

  And so death scatters men on earth, so life puts out again

  Man’s leavy issue. But my race, if, like the course of men,

  Thou seek’st in more particular terms, ’tis this, to many known:

  In midst of Argos, nurse of horse, there stands a walléd town,

  Ephyré, where the mansion-house of Sisyphus did stand,

  Of Sisyphus-Æölides, most wise of all the land.

  Glaucus was son to him, and he begat Bellerophon,

  Whose body heav’n indu’d with strength, and put a beauty on,

  Exceeding lovely. Prætis yet his cause of love did hate,

  And banish’d him the town; he might; he rul’d the Argive state.

  The virtue of the one Jove plac’d beneath the other’s pow’r,

  His exile grew, since he denied to be the paramour

  Of fair Anteia, Prætus’ wife, who felt a raging fire

  Of secret love to him; but he, whom wisdom did inspire

  As well as prudence, (one of them advising him to shun

  The danger of a princess’ love, the other not to run

  Within the danger of the Gods, the act being simply ill,)

  Still entertaining thoughts divine, subdu
’d the earthly still.

  She, rul’d by neither of his wits, preferr’d her lust to both,

  And, false to Prætus, would seem true, with this abhorr’d untroth:

  ‘Prætus, or die thyself,’ said she, ‘or let Bellerophon die.

  He urg’d dishonour to thy bed; which since I did deny,

  He thought his violence should grant, and sought thy shame by force.’

  The king, incens’d with her report, resolv’d upon her course,

  But doubted how it should be run; he shunn’d his death direct,

  (Holding a way so near not safe) and plotted the effect

  By sending him with letters seal’d (that, open’d, touch his life) 2

  To Rhëuns king of Lycia, and father to his wife.

  He went; and happily he went, the Gods walk’d all his way;

  And being arriv’d in Lycia, where Xanthus doth display

  The silver ensigns of his waves, the king of that broad land

  Receiv’d him with a wondrous free and honourable hand.

  Nine days he feasted him, and kill’d an ox in ev’ry day,

  In thankful sacrifice to heav’n, for his fair guest; whose stay,

  With rosy fingers, brought the world, the tenth well-welcom’d morn,

  And then the king did move to see, the letters he had borne

  From his lov’d son-in-law; which seen, he wrought thus their contents:

  Chimæra, the invincible, he sent him to convince,

  Sprung from no man, but mere divine; a lion’s shape before,

  Behind a dragon’s, in the midst a goat’s shagg’d form, she bore,

  And flames of deadly fervency flew from her breath and eyes;

  Yet her he slew; his confidence in sacred prodigies

  Render’d him victor. Then he gave his second conquest way

  Against the famous Solymi, when (he himself would say,

  Reporting it) he enter’d on a passing vig’rous fight.

  His third huge labour he approv’d against a woman’s spite,

  That fill’d a field of Amazons; he overcame them all.

  Then set they on him sly Deceit, when Force had such a fall;

  An ambush of the strongest men, that spacious Lycia bred,

  Was lodg’d for him; whom he lodg’d sure, they never rais’d a head.

  His deeds thus showing him deriv’d from some celestial race,

  The king detain’d, and made amends, with doing him the grace

  Of his fair daughter’s princely gift; and with her, for a dow’r,

  Gave half his kingdom; and to this, the Lycians on did pour