The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  The Greeks with their related drifts; but being past the troops

  Of horse and foot, he promptly runs, and as he runs he stoops

  To undermine Achilles’ horse. Ulysses straight did see,

  And said to Diomed: “This man makes footing towards thee,

  Out of the tents. I know not well, if he be us’d as spy

  Bent to our fleet, or come to rob the slaughter’d enemy.

  But let us suffer him to come a little further on,

  And then pursue him. If it chance, that we be overgone

  By his more swiftness, urge him still to run upon our fleet,

  And (lest he ‘scape us to the town) still let thy jav’lin meet

  With all his offers of retreat.” Thus stepp’d they from the plain

  Amongst the slaughter’d carcasses. Dolon came on amain,

  Suspecting nothing; but once past, as far as mules outdraw

  Oxen at plough, being both put on, neither admitted law,

  To plough a deep-soil’d furrow forth, so far was Dolon past.

  Then they pursu’d, which he perceiv’d, and stay’d his speedless haste,

  Subtly supposing Hector sent to countermand his spy;

  But, in a jav’lin’s throw or less, he knew them enemy.

  Then laid he on his nimble knees, and they pursu’d like wind.

  As when a brace of greyhounds are laid in with hare and hind,

  Close-mouth’d and skill’d to make the best of their industrious course,

  Serve either’s turn, and, set on hard, lose neither ground nor force;

  So constantly did Tydeus’ son, and his town-razing peer,

  Pursue this spy, still turning him, as he was winding near

  His covert, till he almost mix’d with their out-courts of guard.

  Then Pallas prompted Diomed, lest his due worth’s reward

  Should be impair’d if any man did vaunt he first did sheath

  His sword in him, and he be call’d but second in his death.

  Then spake he, threat’ning with his lance: “Or stay, or this comes on,

  And long thou canst not run before thou be by death outgone.”

  This said, he threw his jav’lin forth; which missed as Diomed would,

  Above his right arm making way, the pile stuck in the mould.

  He stay’d and trembled, and his teeth did chatter in his head.

  They came in blowing, seiz’d him fast; he, weeping, offeréd

  A wealthy ransom for his life, and told them he had brass,

  Much gold, and iron, that fit for use in many labours was,

  From whose rich heaps his father would a wondrous portion give,

  If, at the great Achaian fleet, he heard his son did live.

  Ulysses bad him cheer his heart. “Think not of death,” said he,

  “But tell us true, why runn’st thou forth, when others sleeping be?

  Is it to spoil the carcasses? Or art thou choicely sent

  T’ explore our drifts? Or of thyself seek’st thou some wish’d event?”

  He trembling answer’d: “Much reward did Hector’s oath propose,

  And urg’d me, much against my will, t’ endeavour to disclose

  If you determin’d still to stay, or bent your course for flight,

  As all dismay’d with your late foil, and wearied with the fight.

  For which exploit, Pelides’ horse and chariot he did swear,

  I only ever should enjoy.” Ulysses smil’d to hear

  So base a swain have any hope so high a prise t’ aspire,

  And said, his labours did affect a great and precious hire,

  And that the horse Pelides rein’d no mortal hand could use

  But he himself, whose matchless life a Goddess did produce.

  “But tell us, and report but truth, where left’st thou Hector now?

  Where are his arms? His famous horse? On whom doth he bestow

  The watch’s charge? Where sleep the kings? Intend they still to lie

  Thus near encamp’d, or turn suffic’d with their late victory?”

  “All this,” said he, “I’ll tell most true. At Ilus’ monument

  Hector with all our princes sits, t’ advise of this event;

  Who choose that place remov’d to shun the rude confuséd sounds

  The common soldiers throw about. But, for our watch, and rounds,

  Whereof, brave lord, thou mak’st demand, none orderly we keep.

  The Trojans, that have roofs to save, only abandon sleep,

  And privately without command each other they exhort

  To make prevention of the worst; and in this slender sort

  Is watch and guard maintain’d with us. Th’ auxiliary bands

  Sleep soundly, and commit their cares into the Trojans’ hands,

  For they have neither wives with them, nor children to protect;

  The less they need to care, the more they succour dull neglect.”

  “But tell me,” said wise Ithacus, “are all these foreign pow’rs

  Appointed quarters by themselves, or else commix’d with yours?”

  “And this,” said Dolon, “too, my lords, I’ll seriously unfold.

  The Pæons with the crookéd bows, and Cares, quarters hold

  Next to the sea, the Leleges, and Caucons, join’d with them,

  And brave Pelasgians. Thymber’s mead, remov’d more from the stream,

  Is quarter to the Lycians, the lofty Mysian force,

  The Phrygians and Meonians, that fight with arméd horse.

  But what need these particulars? If ye intend surprise

  Of any in our Trojan camps, the Thracian quarter lies

  Utmost of all, and uncommix’d with Trojan regiments,

  That keep the voluntary watch. New pitch’d are all their tents.

  King Rhesus, Eioneus’ son, commands them, who hath steeds

  More white than snow, huge, and well-shap’d, their fi’ry pace exceeds

  The winds in swiftness; these I saw; his chariot is with gold

  And pallid silver richly fram’d, and wondrous to behold;

  His great and golden armour is not fit a man should wear,

  But for immortal shoulders fram’d. Come then, and quickly bear

  Your happy prisn’er to your fleet; or leave him here fast bound,

  Till your well-urg’d and rich return prove my relation sound.”

  Tydides dreadfully replied: “Think not of passage thus,

  Though of right acceptable news thou hast advértis’d us,

  Our hands are holds more strict than so; and should we set the free

  For offer’d ransom, for this ‘scape thou still wouldst scouting be

  About our ships, or do us scathe in plain opposéd arms,

  But, if I take thy life, no way can we repent thy harms.”

  With this, as Dolon reach’d his hand to use a suppliant’s part,

  And stroke the beard of Diomed, he strook his neck athwart

  With his forc’d sword, and both the nerves he did in sunder wound,

  And suddenly his head, deceiv’d, fell speaking on the ground.

  His weasel’s helm they took, his bow, his wolf’s skin, and his lance,

  Which to Minerva Ithacus did zealously advance,

  With lifted arm into the air; and to her thus he spake:

  “Goddess, triumph in thine own spoils; to thee we first will make

  Our invocations, of all pow’rs thron’d on th’ Olympian hill;

  Now to the Thracians, and their horse, and beds, conduct us still.”

  With this, he hung them up aloft upon a tamrick bough

  As eyeful trophies, and the sprigs that did about it grow

  He proinéd from the leafy arms, to make it easier view’d

  When they should hastily retire, and be perhaps pursu’d,

  Forth went they through black blood and arms, and presently aspir’d

  The guardless Thracian regiment, fas
t bound with sleep, and tir’d;

  Their arms lay by, and triple ranks they, as they slept, did keep,

  As they should watch and guard their king, who, in a fatal sleep,

  Lay in the midst; their chariot horse, as they coach-fellows were,

  Fed by them; and the famous steeds, that did their gen’ral bear,

  Stood next him, to the hinder part of his rich chariot tied.

  Ulysses saw them first, and said, “Tydides, I have spied

  The horse that Dolon, whom we slew, assur’d us we should see.

  Now use thy strength; now idle arms are most unfit for thee;

  Prise thou the horse; or kill the guard, and leave the horse to me.”

  Minerva, with the azure eyes, breath’d strength into her king,

  Who filled the tent with mixéd death. The souls, he set on wing,

  Issu’d in groans, and made air swell into her stormy flood.

  Horror and slaughter had one pow’r, the earth did blush with blood.

  As when a hungry lion flies, with purpose to devour,

  On flocks unkept, and on their lives doth freely use his pow’r;

  So Tydeus’ son assail’d the foe; twelve souls before him flew;

  Ulysses waited on his sword, and ever as he slew,

  He drew them by their strengthless heels out of the horses’ sight.

  That, when he was to lead them forth, they should not with affright

  Boggle, nor snore, in treading on the bloody carcasses;

  For being new come, they were unus’d to such stern sights as these.

  Through four ranks now did Diomed the king himself attain,

  Who, snoring in his sweetest sleep, was like his soldiers slain.

  An ill dream by Minerva sent that night stood by his head,

  Which was Oenides’ royal, unconquer’d Diomed.

  Meanwhile Ulysses loos’d his horse, took all their reins in hand,

  And led them forth; but Tydeus’ son did in contention stand

  With his great mind to do some deed of more audacity;

  If he should take the chariot, where his rich arms did lie,

  And draw it by the beam away, or bear it on his back,

  Or if, of more dull Thracian lives, he should their bosoms sack.

  In this contention with himself, Minerva did suggest

  And bade him think of his retreat; lest from their tempted rest

  Some other God should stir the foe, and send him back dismay’d.

  He knew the voice, took horse, and fled. The Trojan’s heav’nly aid,

  Apollo with the silver how, stood no blind sentinel

  To their secure and drowsy host, but did discover well

  Minerva following Diomed; and, angry with his act,

  The mighty host of Ilion he enter’d, and awak’d

  The cousin-german of the king, a counsellor of Thrace,

  Hippocoon; who when he rose, and saw the desert place,

  Where Rhesus’ horse did use to stand, and th’ other dismal harms,

  Men struggling with the pangs of death, he shriek’d out thick alarms,

  Call’d “Rhesus! Rhesus!” but in vain; then still, “Arm! Arm!” he cried.

  The noise and tumult was extreme on every startled side

  Of Troy’s huge host; from whence in throngs all gather’d, and admir’d

  Who could perform such harmful facts, and yet be safe retir’d,

  Now, coming where they slew the scout, Ulysses stay’d the steeds,

  Tydides lighted, and the spoils, hung on the tamrick reeds,

  He took and gave to Ithacus, and up he got again.

  Then flew they joyful to their fleet. Nestor did first attain

  The sounds the horse-hoofs strook through air, and said: “My royal peers!

  Do I but dote, or say I true? Methinks about mine ears

  The sounds of running horses beat. O would to God they were

  Our friends thus soon return’d with spoils! But I have hearty fear,

  Lest this high tumult of the foe doth their distress intend.”

  He scarce had spoke, when they were come. Both did from horse descend.

  All, with embraces and sweet words, to heav’n their worth did raise.

  Then Nestor spake: “Great Ithacus, ev’n heap’d with Grecian praise,

  How have you made these horse your prise? Pierc’d you the dang’rous host,

  Where such gems stand? Or did some God your high attempts accost,

  And honour’d you with this reward? Why, they be like the rays

  The sun effuseth. I have mix’d with Trojans all my days;

  And now, I hope you will not say, I always lie aboard,

  Though an old soldier I confess; yet did all Troy afford

  Never the like to any sense that ever I possess’d.

  But some good God, no doubt, hath met, and your high valours bless’d,

  For He that shadows heav’n with clouds loves both as his delights,

  And She that supples earth with blood cannot forbear your sights.”

  Ulysses answer’d: “Honour’d sire, the willing Gods can give

  Horse much more worth than these men yield, since in more pow’r they live.

  These horse are of the Thracian breed; their king, Tydides slew,

  And twelve of his most trusted guard; and of that meaner crew

  A scout for thirteenth man we kill’d, whom Hector sent to spy

  The whole estate of our designs, if bent to fight or fly.”

  Thus, follow’d with whole troops of friends, they with applauses pass’d

  The spacious dike, and in the tent of Diomed they plac’d

  The horse without contention, as his deserving’s meed,

  Which, with his other horse set up, on yellow wheat did feed.

  Poor Dolon’s spoils Ulysses had; who shrin’d them on his stern,

  As trophies vow’d to her that sent the good-aboding hern.

  Then enter’d they the mere main sea, to cleanse their honour’d sweat

  From off their feet, their thighs and necks; and, when their vehement heat

  Was calm’d, and their swoln hearts refresh’d, more curious baths they us’d,

  Where od’rous and dissolving oils, they through their limbs diffus’d.

  Then, taking breakfast, a big bowl, fill’d with the purest wine,

  They offer’d to the Maiden Queen, that hath the azure eyne.

  THE END OF THE TENTH BOOK.

  ENDNOTES.

  1 These are the lightnings before snow, etc. that Scaliger’s Criticus so unworthily taxeth; citing the place falsely, as in the third book’s annotations, etc.

  2 ᾽Επὶ ξυρου̑ ἵσταται ἀκμη̑ς. This went into a proverb, used by Theocritus, in Dioscuris, out of Homer.

  THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER’S ILIADS

  THE ARGUMENT

  Atrides and his other peers of name

  Lead forth their men; whom Eris oath enflame.

  Hector (by Iris’ charge) takes deedless breath,

  Whiles Agamemnon plies the work of death,

  Who with the first bears his imperial head.

  Himself, Ulysses, and King Diomed,

  Eurypylus, and Æsculapius’ son,

  (Enforc’d with wounds) the furious skirmish shun.

  Which martial sight when great Achilles views,

  A little his desire of fight renews;

  And forth he sends his friend, to bring him word

  From old Neleides, what wounded lord

  He in his chariot from the skirmish brought;

  Which was Machaon. Nestor then besought

  He would persuade his friend to wreak their harms,

  Or come himself, deck’d in his dreadful arms.

  ANOTHER ARGUMENT

  Lambda presents the General,

  In fight the worthiest man of all,

  Aurora out of restful bed did from bright Tithon rise,

  To bring each death
less Essence light, and use to mortal eyes;

  When Jove sent Eris to the Greeks, sustaining in her hand

  Stern signs of her designs for war. She took her horrid stand

  Upon Ulysses’ huge black bark, that did at anchor ride

  Amidst the fleet, from whence her sounds might ring on ev’ry side,

  Both to the tents of Telamon, and th’ author of their smarts,

  Who held, for fortitude and force, the navy’s utmost parts.

  The red-ey’d Goddess, seated there, thunder’d the Orthian song,

  High, and with horror, through the ears of all the Grecian throng,

  Her verse with spirits invincible did all their breasts inspire,

  Blew out all darkness from their limbs, and set their hearts on fire;

  And presently was bitter war more sweet a thousand times,

  Than any choice in hollow keels to greet their native climes.

  Atrides summon’d all to arms, to arms himself dispos’d,

  First on his legs he put bright greaves, with silver buttons clos’d;

  Then with rich curace arm’d his breast, which Cinyras bestow’d

  To gratify his royal guest; for ev’n to Cyprus flowed

  Th’ unbounded fame of those designs the Greeks propos’d for Troy,

  And therefore gave he him those arms, and wish’d his purpose joy.

  Ten rows of azure mix’d with black, twelve golden like the sun,

  Twice-ten of tin, in beaten paths, did through this armour run.

  Three serpents to the gorget crept, that like three rainbows shin’d,

  Such as by Jove are fix’d in clouds, when wonders are divin’d.

  About his shoulders hung his sword, whereof the hollow hilt

  Was fashion’d all with shining bars, exceeding richly gilt;

  The scabbard was of silver plate, with golden hangers grac’d.

  Then he took up his weighty shield, that round about him cast

  Defensive shadows; ten bright zones of gold-affecting brass

  Were driv’n about it; and of tin, as full of gloss as glass,

  Swell’d twenty bosses out of it; in centre of them all

  One of black metal had engrav’n, full of extreme appall,

  An ugly Gorgon, compasséd with Terror and with Fear.

  At it a silver bawdrick hung, with which he us’d to bear,

  Wound on his arm, his ample shield; and in it there was wov’n

  An azure dragon, curl’d in folds, from whose one neck was clov’n

  Three heads contorted in an orb. Then plac’d he on his head