The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  In right of all war than all we. That God, that holds between

  Our victory and us his shield, lets conquest come and go

  At his free pleasure, and with fear converts her changes so

  Upon the strongest. Men must fight when his just spirit impels,

  Not their vain glories. But come on, make thy steps parallels

  To these of mine, and then be judge, how deep the work will draw.

  If then I spend the day in shifts, or thou canst give such law

  To thy detractive speeches then, or if the Grecian host

  Holds any that in pride of strength holds up his spirit most,

  Whom, for the carriage of this prince, that thou enforcest so,

  I make not stoop in his defence. You, friends, ye hear and know

  How much it fits ye to make good this Grecian I have slain,

  For ransom of Jove’s son, our friend. Play then the worthy men,

  Till I indue Achilles’ arms.” This said, he left the fight,

  And call’d back those that bore the arms, not yet without his sight,

  In convoy of them towards Troy. For them he chang’d his own,

  Remov’d from where it rained tears, and sent them back to town.

  Then put he on th’ eternal arms, that the Celestial States

  Gave Peleus; Peleus, being old, their use appropriates

  To his Achilles, that, like him, forsook them not for age.

  When He, whose empire is in clouds, saw Hector bent to wage

  War in divine Achilles’ arms, he shook his head, and said:

  “Poor wretch, thy thoughts are far from death, though he so near hath laid

  His ambush for thee. Thou putt’st on those arms, as braving him

  Whom others fear; hast slain his friend, and from his youthful limb

  Torn rudely off his heav’nly arms, himself being gentle, kind,

  And valiant. Equal measure then, thy life in youth must find.

  Yet since the justice is so strict, that not Andromache,

  In thy denied return from fight, must ever take of thee

  Those arms, in glory of thy acts; thou shalt have that frail blaze

  Of excellence that neighbours death, a strength ev’n to amaze.”

  To this His sable brows did bow; and he made fit his limb

  To those great arms, to fill which up the War-god enter’d him

  Austere and terrible, his joints and ev’ry part extends

  With strength and fortitude; and thus to his admiring friends

  High Clamour brought him. He so shin’d, that all could think no less

  But he resembled ev’ry way great-soul’d Æacides.

  Then ev’ry way he scour’d the field, his captains calling on;

  Asteropæus, Eunomus, that foresaw all things done,

  Glaucus, and Medon, Desinor, and strong Thersilochus,

  Phorcis, and Mesthles, Chromius, and great Hippothous;

  To all these, and their populous troops, these his excitements were:

  “Hear us, innumerable friends, near-bord’ring nations, hear.

  We have not call’d you from our towns, to fill our idle eye

  With number of so many men (no such vain empery

  Did ever joy us) but to fight; and of our Trojan wives,

  With all their children, manfully to save the innocent lives.

  In whose cares we draw all our towns of aiding soldiers dry,

  With gifts, guards, victual, all things fit; and hearten their supply

  With all like rights; and therefore now let all sides set down this,

  Or live, or perish; this of war the special secret is.

  In which most resolute design, whoever bears to town

  Patroclus, laid dead to his hand, by winning the renown

  Of Ajax’ slaughter, the half-spoil we wholly will impart

  To his free use, and to ourself the other half convert;

  And so the glory shall be shar’d, ourself will have no more

  Then he shall shine in.” This drew all to bring abroad their store

  Before the body. Ev’ry man had hope it would be his,

  And forc’d from Ajax. Silly fools, Ajax prevented this

  By raising rampires to his friend with half their carcasses.

  And yet his humour was to roar, and fear, and now no less

  To startle Sparta’s king, to whom he cried out: “O my friend!

  O Menelaus! Now no hope to get off; here’s the end

  Of all our labours. Not so much I fear to lose the corse

  (For that’s sure gone, the fowls of Troy and dogs will quickly force

  That piece-meal) as I fear my head, and thine, O Atreus’ son.

  Hector a cloud brings will hide all. Instant destructión,

  Grievous and heavy, comes. O call our peers to aid us; fly.”

  He hasted, and us’d all his voice, sent far and near his cry:

  “O princes, chief lights of the Greeks, and you that publicly

  Eat with our General and me, all men of charge, O know

  Jove gives both grace and dignity to any that will show

  Good minds for only good itself, though presently the eye

  Of him that rules discern him not. ’Tis hard for me t’espy,

  Through all this smoke of burning fight, each captain in his place,

  And call assistance to our need. Be then each other’s grace,

  And freely follow each his next. Disdain to let the joy

  Of great Æacides be forc’d to feed the beasts of Troy.”

  His voice was first heard and obey’d by swift Oïliades;

  Idomenëus and his mate, renown’d Meriones,

  Were seconds to Oïleus’ son; but, of the rest, whose mind

  Can lay upon his voice the names, that after these combin’d

  In setting up this fight on end? The Trojans first gave on.

  And as into the sea’s vast mouth, when mighty rivers run,

  Their billows and the sea resound, and all the utter shore

  Rebellows in her angry shocks the sea’s repulsive roar;

  With such sounds gave the Trojans charge, so was their charge repress’d.

  One mind fill’d all Greeks, good brass shields close couch’d to ev’ry breast,

  And on their bright helms Jove pour’d down a mighty deal of night,

  To hide Patroclus; whom alive, and when he was the knight

  Of that grandchild of Æacus, Saturnius did not hate,

  Nor dead would see him dealt to dogs, and so did instigate

  His fellows to his worthy guard. At first the Trojans drave

  The black-ey’d Grecians from the corse; but not a blow they gave

  That came at death. Awhile they hung about the body’s heels,

  The Greeks quite gone. But all that while, did Ajax whet the steels

  Of all his forces, that cut back way to the corse again.

  Brave Ajax (that for form and fact, pass’d all that did maintain

  The Grecian fame, next Thetis’ son) now flew before the first.

  And as a sort of dogs and youths are by a boar disperst

  About a mountain; so fled these from mighty Ajax, all

  That stood in conflict for the corse, who thought no chance could fall

  Betwixt them and the prise at Troy; for both Hippothous,

  Lethus’ Pelasgus’ famous son, was so adventurous

  That he would stand to bore the corse about the ancle-bone,

  Where all the nervy fibres meet and ligaments in one,

  That make the motion of those parts; through which he did convey

  The thong or bawdric of his shield, and so was drawing away

  All thanks from Hector and his friends; but in their stead he drew

  An ill that no man could avert; for Telamonius threw

  A lance that strook quite through his helm, his brain came leaping out;

  Down fell Letheides, and with him the body’s h
oisted foot.

  Far from Larissa’s soil he fell; a little time allow’d

  To his industrious spirits to quit the benefits bestow’d

  By his kind parents. But his wreak Priamides assay’d,

  And threw at Ajax; but his dart, discover’d, pass’d, and stay’d

  At Schedius, son of Iphitus, a man of ablest hand

  Of all the strong Phocensians, and liv’d with great command

  In Panopëus. The fell dart fell through his channel-bone,

  Pierc’d through his shoulder’s upper part, and set his spirit gone.

  When after his another flew, the same hand giving wing

  To martial Phorcis’ startled soul, that was the after spring

  Of Phænops’ seed. The jav’lin strook his curets through, and tore

  The bowels from the belly’s midst. His fall made those before

  Give back a little, Hector’s self enforc’d to turn his face.

  And then the Greeks bestow’d their shouts, took vantage of the chace,

  Drew off, and spoil’d Hippothous and Phorcis of their arms.

  And then ascended Ilion had shaken with alarms,

  Discov’ring th’ impotence of Troy, ev’n past the will of Jove,

  And by the proper force of Greece, had Phœbus fail’d to move

  Æneas in similitude of Periphas (the son

  Of grave Epytes) king at arms, and had good service done

  To old Anchises, being wise, and ev’n with him in years.

  But, like this man, the far-seen God to Venus’ son appears,

  And ask’d him how he would maintain steep Ilion in her height,

  In spite of Gods, as he presum’d; when men approv’d so slight

  All his presumptions, and all theirs that puff’d him with that pride,

  Believing in their proper strengths, and gen’rally supplied

  With such unfrighted multitudes? But he well knew that Jove,

  Besides their self-conceits, sustain’d their forces with more love

  Than theirs of Greece; and yet all that lack’d pow’r to hearten them.

  Æneas knew the God, and said: “It was a shame extreme,

  That those of Greece should beat them so, and by their cowardice,

  Not want of man’s aid nor the Gods’; and this before his eyes

  A Deity stood ev’n now and vouch’d, affirming Jove their aid;

  And so bade Hector and the rest, to whom all this he said,

  Turn head, and not in that quick ease part with the corse to

  Greece.”

  This said, before them all he flew, and all as of a piece

  Against the Greeks flew. Venus’ son Leocritus did end,

  Son of Arisbas, and had place of Lycomedes’ friend;

  Whose fall he friendly pitied, and, in revenge, bestow’d

  A lance that Apisaon strook, so sore that straight he strow’d

  The dusty centre, it did stick in that congealéd blood

  That forms the liver. Second man he was of all that stood

  In name for arms amongst the troop that from Pæonia came,

  Asteropæus being the first; who was in ruth the same

  That Lycomedes was; like whom, he put forth for the wreak

  Of his slain friend; but wrought it not, because he could not break

  That bulwark made of Grecian shields, and bristled wood of spears,

  Combin’d about the body slain. Amongst whom Ajax bears

  The greatest labour, ev’ry way exhorting to abide,

  And no man fly the corse a foot, nor break their ranks in pride

  Of any foremost daring spirit, but each foot hold his stand,

  And use the closest fight they could. And this was the command

  Of mighty Ajax; which observ’d, they steep’d the earth in blood.

  The Trojans and their friends fell thick. Nor all the Grecians stood

  (Though far the fewer suffer’d fate) for ever they had care

  To shun confusion, and the toil that still oppresseth there.

  So set they all the field on fire; with which you would have thought

  The sun and moon had been put out, in such a smoke they fought

  About the person of the prince. But all the field beside

  Fought underneath a lightsome heav’n; the sun was in his pride,

  And such expansure of his beams he thrust out of his throne,

  That not a vapour durst appear in all that region,

  No, not upon the highest hill. There fought they still, and breath’d,

  Shunn’d danger, cast their darts aloof, and not a sword unsheath’d.

  The other plied it, and the war and night plied them as well,

  The cruel steel afflicting all; the strongest did not dwell

  Unhurt within their iron roofs. Two men of special name.

  Antilochus and Thrasymed, were yet unserv’d by Fame

  With notice of Patroclus’ death. They thought him still alive

  In foremost tumult, and might well, for (seeing their fellows thrive

  In no more comfortable sort than fight and death would yield)

  They fought apart; for so their sire, old Nestor, strictly will’d,

  Enjoining fight more from the fleet. War here increas’d his heat

  The whole day long, continually the labour and the sweat

  The knees, calves, feet, hands, faces, smear’d, of men that Mars applied

  About the good Achilles’ friend. And as a huge ox-hide 3

  A currier gives amongst his men, to supple and extend

  With oil till it be drunk withall; they tug, stretch out, and spend

  Their oil and liquor lib’rally, and chafe the leather so

  That out they make a vapour breathe, and in their oil doth go,

  A number of them set on work, and in an orb they pull,

  That all ways all parts of the hide they may extend at full;

  So here and there did both parts hale the corse in little place,

  And wrought it all ways with their sweat; the Trojans hop’d for grace

  To make it reach to Ilion, the Grecians to their fleet,

  A cruel tumult they stirr’d up, and such as should Mars see’t

  (That horrid hurrier of men) or She that betters him,

  Minerva, never so incens’d, they could not disesteem.

  So baneful a contention did Jove that day extend

  Of men and horse about the slain. Of whom his god-like friend

  Had no instruction, so far off, and underneath the wall

  Of Troy, that conflict was maintain’d; which was not thought at all

  By great Achilles, since he charg’d, that having set his foot

  Upon the ports, he would retire, well knowing Troy no boot

  For his assaults without himself, since not by him as well

  He knew it was to be subdu’d. His mother oft would tell

  The mind of mighty Jove therein, oft hearing it in heav’n;

  But of that great ill to his friend was no instruction giv’n

  By careful Thetis. By degrees must ill events be known.

  The foes cleft one to other still, about the overthrown.

  His death with death infected both. Ev’n private Greeks would say

  Either to other: “‘Twere a shame, for us to go our way,

  And let the Trojans bear to Troy the praise of such a prise!

  Which, let the black earth gasp, and drink our blood for sacrifice,

  Before we suffer. ’Tis an act much less infortunate,

  And then would those of Troy resolve, though certainly our fate

  Will fell us altogether here. Of all not turn a face.”

  Thus either side his fellows’ strength excited past his place,

  And thus through all th’ unfruitful air, an iron sound ascended

  Up to the golden firmament; when strange affects contended

  In these immortal heav’n-bred horse of great Æacides,
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  Whom (once remov’d from forth the fight) a sudden sense did seize

  Of good Patroclus’ death, whose hands they oft had undergone,

  And bitterly they wept for him. Nor could Automedon

  With any manage make them stir, oft use the scourge to them,

  Oft use his fairest speech, as oft threats never so extreme,

  They neither to the Hellespont would bear him, nor the fight;

  But still as any tombstone lays his never stirréd weight

  On some good man or woman’s grave for rites of funeral;

  So unremovéd stood these steeds, their heads to earth let fall,

  And warm tears gushing from their eyes, with passionate desire

  Of their kind manager; their manes, that flourish’d with the fire

  Of endless youth allotted them, fell through the yoky sphere,

  Ruthfully ruffled and defil’d, Jove saw their heavy cheer,

  And, pitying them, spake to his mind: “Poor wretched beasts,” said he,

  “Why gave we you t’ a mortal king, when immortality

  And incapacity of age so dignifies your states?

  Was it to haste the miseries pour’d out on human fates?

  Of all the miserablest things that breathe and creep on earth,

  No one more wretched is than man. And for your deathless birth,

  Hector must fail to make you prise. Is’t not enough he wears,

  And glories vainly in those arms? Your chariots and rich gears,

  Besides you, are too much for him. Your knees and spirits again

  My care of you shall fill with strength, that so ye may sustain

  Automedon, and bear him off. To Troy I still will give

  The grace of slaughter, till at fleet their bloody feet arrive,

  Till Phœbus drink the western sea, and sacred Darkness throws

  Her sable mantle ‘twixt their points.” Thus in the steeds he blows

  Excessive spirit; and through the Greeks and Ilians they rapt

  The whirring chariot, shaking off the crumbled centre wrapt

  Amongst their tresses. And with them, Automedon let fly

  Amongst the Trojans, making way through all as frightfully

  As through a jangling flock of geese a lordly vulture beats,

  Giv’n way with shrikes by ev’ry goose, that comes but near his threats;

  With such state fled he through the press, pursuing as he fled;

  But made no slaughter; nor he could, alone being carried

  Upon the sacred chariot. How could he both works do,

  Direct his jav’lin, and command his fi’ry horses too?

  At length he came where he beheld his friend Alcimedon,