The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  Fore-purpos’d by the skilful wright; so both hosts did contend

  With such a line or law applied, to what their steel would gain.

  At other ships fought other men; but Hector did maintain

  His quarrel firm at Ajax’ ship. And so did both employ

  About one vessel all their toil; nor could the one destroy

  The ship with fire, nor force the man, nor that man yet get gone

  The other from so near his ship, for God had brought him on.

  But now did Ajax, with a dart, wound deadly in the breast

  Caletor, son of Clytius, as he with fire address’d

  To burn the vessel; as he fell, the brand fell from his hand.

  When Hector saw his sister’s son lie slaughter’d in the sand,

  He call’d to all his friends, and pray’d they would not in that strait

  Forsake his nephew, but maintain about his corse the fight,

  And save it from the spoil of Greece. Then sent he out a lance

  At Ajax, in his nephew’s wreak; which miss’d, but made the chance

  On Lycophron Mastorides, that was the household friend

  Of Ajax, born in Cythera; whom Ajax did defend,

  Being fled to his protectión, for killing of a man

  Amongst the god-like Cytherans. The vengeful jav’lin ran

  Quite through his head, above his ear, as he was standing by

  His fautour then astern his ship, from whence his soul did fly,

  And to the earth his body fell. The hair stood up an end

  On Ajax, who to Teucer call’d (his brother) saying: “Friend

  Our lovéd consort, whom we brought from Cythera, and grac’d

  So like our father, Hector’s hand hath made him breathe his last.

  Where then are all thy death-borne shafts, and that unvalu’d bow

  Apollo gave thee?” Tencer straight his brother’s thoughts did know,

  Stood near him, and dispatch’d a shaft, amongst the Trojan fight.

  It strook Pisenor’s goodly son, young Clitus, the delight

  Of the renown’d Polydamus, the bridle in his hand,

  As he was labouring his horse, to please the high command

  Of Hector and his Trojan friends, and bring him where the fight

  Made greatest tumult; but his strife, for honour in their sight,

  Wrought not what sight or wishes help’d; for, turning back his look,

  The hollow of his neck the shaft came singing on, and strook,

  And down he fell; his horses back, and hurried through the field

  The empty chariot. Panthus’ son made all haste, and withheld

  Their loose career, disposing them to Protiaon’s son,

  Astynous, with special charge, to keep them ever on,

  And in his sight. So he again, amongst the foremost went.

  At Hector then another shaft, incenséd Teucer sent,

  Which, had it hit him, sure had hurt, and, had it hurt him, slain,

  And, had it slain him, it had driv’n all those to Troy again.

  But Jove’s mind was not sleeping now, it wak’d to Hector’s fame,

  And Teucer’s infamy; himself (in Teucer’s deadly aim)

  His well-wrought string dissevering, that serv’d his bravest bow;

  His shaft flew quite another way, his bow the earth did strow.

  At all which Teucer stood amaz’d, and to his brother cried:

  “O prodigy! Without all doubt, our angel doth deride

  The counsels of our fight; he brake a string my hands put on

  This morning, and was newly made, and well might have set gone

  A hundred arrows; and, beside, he strook out of my hand

  The bow Apollo gave.” He said: “Then, good friend, do not stand

  More on thy archery, since God, preventer of all grace

  Desir’d by Grecians, slights it so. Take therefore in the place

  A good large lance, and on thy neck a target cast as bright,

  With which come fight thyself with some, and other some excite,

  That without labour at the least, though we prove worser men,

  Troy may not brag it took our ships. Come, mind our business, then.”

  This said, he hasted to his tent, left there his shafts and bow,

  And then his double double shield did on his shoulders throw;

  Upon his honour’d head he plac’d his helmet thickly-plum’d,

  And then his strong and well-pil’d lance in his fair hand assum’d,

  Return’d; and boldly took his place, by his great brother’s side.

  When Hector saw his arrows broke, out to his friends he cried:

  “O friends, be yet more comforted; I saw the hands of Jove

  Break the great Grecian archer’s shafts. ’Tis easy to approve

  That Jove’s pow’r is direct with men; as well in those set high

  Upon the sudden, as in those depress’d as suddenly,

  And those not put in state at all. As now he takes away

  Strength from the Greeks, and gives it us; then use it, and assay

  With join’d hands this approachéd fleet. If any bravely buy

  His fame or fate with wounds or death, in Jove’s name let him die.

  Who for his country suffers death, sustains no shameful thing,

  His wife in honour shall survive, his progeny shall spring

  In endless summers, and their roofs with patrimony swell.

  And all this, though, with all their freight, the Greek ships we repell.”

  His friends thus cheer’d; on th’ other part, strong Ajax stirr’d his friends:

  “O Greeks,” said he, “what shame is this, that no man more defends

  His fame and safety, than to live, and thus be forc’d to shrink!

  Now either save your fleet, or die; unless ye vainly think

  That you can live and they destroy’d. Perceives not ev’ry ear

  How Hector heartens up his men, and hath his fire-brands here

  Now ready to inflame our fleet? He doth not bid them dance,

  That you may take your ease and see, but to the fight advance.

  No counsel can serve us but this: To mix both hands and hearts,

  And bear up close. ’Tis better much, t’ expose our utmost parts

  To one day’s certain life or death, than languish in a war

  So base as this, beat to our ships by our inferiors far.”

  Thus rous’d he up their spirits and strengths. To work then both sides went,

  When Hector the Phocensian duke to fields of darkness sent,

  Fierce Schedius, Perimedes’ son; which Ajax did requite

  With slaughter of Laodamas, that led the foot to fight,

  And was Antenor’s famous son. Polydamas did end

  Otus, surnam’d Cyllenius, whom Phydas made his friend,

  Being chief of the Epeians’ bands. Whose fall when Meges view’d,

  He let fly at his feller’s life; who, shrinking in, eschew’d

  The well-aim’d lance; Apollo’s will denied that Panthus’ son

  Should fall amongst the foremost fights; the dart the mid-breast won

  Of Crasmus; Meges won his arms. At Meges, Dolops then

  Bestow’d his lance; he was the son of Lampus, best of men,

  And Lampus of Laomedon, well-skill’d in strength of mind,

  He strook Phylides’ shield quite through, whose curets, better lin’d,

  And hollow’d fitly, sav’d his life. Phyleus left him them,

  Who from Epirus brought them home, on that part where the stream

  Of famous Seléés doth run; Euphetes did bestow,

  Being guest with him, those well-prov’d arms, to wear against the foe,

  And now they sav’d his son from death. At Dolops, Meges threw

  A spear well-pil’d, that strook his casque full in the height; off flew

  His purple feather, newly made, and in the dust
it fell.

  While these thus striv’d for victory, and either’s hope serv’d well,

  Atrides came to Meges’ aid, and, hidden with his side,

  Let loose a jav’lin at his foe, that through his back implied

  His lusty head, ev’n past his breast; the ground receiv’d his weight.

  While these made in to spoil his arms, great Hector did excite

  All his allies to quick revenge; and first he wrought upon

  Strong Manalippus, that was son to great Hycetaon,

  With some reproof. Before these wars, he in Percote fed

  Clov’n-foot’d oxen, but did since return where he was bred,

  Excell’d amongst the Ilians, was much of Priam lov’d,

  And in his court kept as his son. Him Hector thus reprov’d:

  “Thus, Menalippus, shall our blood accuse us of neglect?

  Nor moves it thy lov’d heart, thus urg’d, thy kinsman to protect?

  Seest thou not how they seek his spoil? Come, follow, now no more

  Our fight must stand at length, but close; nor leave the close before

  We close the latest eye of them, or they the lowest stone

  Tear up, and sack the citizens of lofty Ilion.”

  He led; he follow’d, like a God. And then must Ajax needs,

  As well as Hector, cheer his men, and thus their spirits he feeds:

  “Good friends, bring but yourselves to feel the noble stings of shame

  For what ye suffer, and be men. Respect each other’s fame;

  For which who strives in shame’s fit fear, and puts on ne’er so far,

  Comes oft’ner off. Then stick engag’d; these fugitives of war

  Save neither life, nor get renown, nor bear more mind than sheep.”

  This short speech fir’d them in his aid, his spirit touch’d them deep,

  And turn’d them all before the fleet into a wall of brass;

  To whose assault Jove stirr’d their foes, and young Atrides was

  Jove’s instrument, who thus set on the young Antilochus:

  “Antilochus, in all our host, there is not one of us

  More young than thou, more swift of foot, nor, with both those, so strong.

  O would thou wouldst then, for thou canst, one of this lusty throng,

  That thus comes skipping out before (whoever, any where)

  Make stick, for my sake, ‘twixt both hosts, and leave his bold blood there!”

  He said no sooner, and retir’d, but forth he rush’d before

  The foremost fighters, yet his eye did ev’ry way explore

  For doubt of odds; out flew his lance; the Trojans did abstain

  While he was darting; yet his dart he cast not off in vain,

  For Menalippus, that rare son of great Hycetaon,

  As bravely he put forth to fight, it fiercely flew upon;

  And at the nipple of his breast, his breast and life did part.

  And then, much like an eager hound, cast off at some young hart

  Hurt by the hunter, that had left his covert then but new,

  The great-in-war Antilochus, O Menalippus, flew

  On thy torn bosom for thy spoil. But thy death could not lie

  Hid to great Hector; who all haste made to thee, and made fly

  Antilochus, although in war he were at all parts skill’d.

  But as some wild beast, having done some shrewd turn (either kill’d

  The herdsman, or the herdsman’s dog) and skulks away before

  The gather’d multitude makes in; so Nestor’s son forbore,

  But after him, with horrid cries, both Hector and the rest

  Show’rs of tear-thirsty lances pour’d; who having arm’d his breast

  With all his friends, he turn’d it then. Then on the ships all

  Troy,

  Like raw-flesh-nourish’d lions, rush’d, and knew they did employ

  Their pow’rs to perfect Jove’s high will; who still their spirits enflam’d,

  And quench’d the Grecians’; one renown’d, the other often sham’d.

  For Hector’s glory still he stood, and ever went about

  To make him cast the fleet such fire, as never should go out;

  Heard Thetis’ foul petitión, and wish’d in any wise

  The splendour of the burning ships might satiate his eyes.

  From him yet the repulse was then to be on Troy conferr’d,

  The honour of it giv’n the Greeks; which thinking on, he stirr’d,

  With such addition of his spirit, the spirit Hector bore

  To burn the fleet, that of itself was hot enough before.

  But now he far’d like Mars himself, so brandishing his lance

  As, through the deep shades of a wood, a raging fire should glance,

  Held up to all eyes by a hill; about his lips a foam

  Stood as when th’ ocean is enrag’d, his eyes were overcome

  With fervour, and resembled flames, set off by his dark brows,

  And from his temples his bright helm abhorréd lightnings throws;

  For Jove, from forth the sphere of stars, to his state put his own,

  And all the blaze of both the hosts confin’d in him alone.

  And all this was, since after this he had not long to live,

  This lightning flew before his death, which Pallas was to give

  (A small time thence, and now prepar’d) beneath the violence

  Of great Pelides. In mean time, his present eminence

  Thought all things under it; and he, still where he saw the stands

  Of greatest strength and bravest arm’d, there he would prove his hands,

  Or nowhere; off’ring to break through, but that pass’d all his pow’r,

  Although his will were past all theirs, they stood him like a tow’r

  Conjoin’d so firm, that as a rock, exceeding high and great,

  And standing near the hoary sea, bears many a boist’rous threat

  Of high-voic’d winds and billows huge, belch’d on it by the storms;

  So stood the Greeks great Hector’s charge, nor stirr’d their battellous forms.

  He, girt in fire borne for the fleet, still rush’d at ev’ry troop,

  And fell upon it like a wave, high rais’d, that then doth stoop

  Out from the clouds, grows, as it stoops, with storms, then down doth come

  And cuff a ship, when all her sides are hid in brackish foam,

  Strong gales still raging in her sails, her sailors’ minds dismay’d,

  Death being but little from their lives; so Jove-like Hector fray’d

  And plied the Greeks, who knew not what would chance, for all their guards.

  And as the baneful king of beasts, leapt into oxen herds

  Fed in the meadows of a fen, exceeding great; the beasts

  In number infinite; ‘mongst whom (their herdsmen wanting breasts

  To fight with lions, for the price of a black ox’s life)

  He here and there jumps, first and last, in his blood-thirsty strife,

  Chas’d and assaulted; and, at length, down in the midst goes one,

  And all the rest spers’d through the fen; so now all Greece was gone;

  So Hector, in a flight from heav’n upon the Grecians cast,

  Turn’d all their backs; yet only one his deadly lance laid fast,

  Brave Mycenæus Periphes, Cypræus’ dearest son,

  Who of the heav’n’s-Queen-lovéd king, great Eurysthæus, won

  The grace to greet in ambassy the strength of Hercules,

  Was far superior to his sire in feet, fight, nobleness

  Of all the virtues, and all those did such a wisdom guide

  As all Mycena could not match; and this man dignified,

  Still making greater his renown, the state of Priam’s son,

  For his unhappy hasty foot, as he address’d to run,

  Stuck in th’ extreme ring of his shield, that to his ancles reach’d,


  And down he upwards fell, his fall up from the centre fetch’d

  A huge sound with his head and helm; which Hector quickly spied,

  Ran in, and in his worthy breast his lance’s head did hide;

  And slew about him all his friends, who could not give him aid,

  They griev’d, and of his god-like foe fled so extreme afraid.

  And now amongst the nearest ships, that first were drawn to shore,

  The Greeks were driv’n; beneath whose sides, behind them, and before,

  And into them they pour’d themselves, and thence were driv’n again

  Up to their tents, and there they stood; not daring to maintain

  Their guards more outward, but, betwixt the bounds of fear and shame,

  Cheer’d still each other; when th’ old man, that of the Grecian name

  Was call’d the Pillar, ev’ry man thus by his parents pray’d:

  “O friends, be men, and in your minds let others’ shames be weigh’d.

  Know you have friends besides yourselves, possessions, parents, wives,

  As well those that are dead to you, as those ye love with lives;

  All sharing still their good, or bad, with yours. By these I pray,

  That are not present (and the more should therefore make ye weigh

  Their miss of you, as yours of them) that you will bravely stand,

  And this forc’d flight you have sustain’d, at length yet countermand.”

  Supplies of good words thus supplied the deeds and spirits of all.

  And so at last Minerva clear’d, the cloud that Jove let fall

  Before their eyes; a mighty light flew beaming ev’ry way,

  As well about their ships, as where their darts did hottest play,

  Then saw they Hector great in arms, and his associates,

  As well all those that then abstain’d, as those that help’d the fates,

  And all their own fight at the fleet. Nor did it now content

  Ajax to keep down like the rest; he up the hatches went,

  Stalk’d here and there, and in his hand a huge great bead-hook held,

  Twelve cubits long, and full of iron. And as a man well-skill’d

  In horse, made to the martial race, when, of a number more,

  He chooseth four, and brings them forth, to run them all before

  Swarms of admiring citizens, amids their town’s high way,

  And, in their full career, he leaps from one to one, no stay

  Enforc’d on any, nor fails he, in either seat or leap;

  So Ajax with his bead-hook leap’d nimbly from ship to ship,