I nothing blame you, but your king; 'tis he, I know, doth send

You for Briseis; she is his. Patroclus, honour'd friend,

Bring forth the damsel, and these men let lead her to their lord.

But, heralds, be you witnesses, before the most adored,

Before us mortals, and before your most ungentle king, [bring Of what I suffer, that, if war ever hereafter My aid in question, to avert any severest bane

It brings on others, I am 'scused to keep my aid in wane,

Since they mine honour. But your king, in tempting mischief, raves, Nor sees at once by present things the future; how like waves

Ills follow ills; injustices being never so

secure

In present times, but after-plagues even then are seen as sure.

Which yet he sees not, and so soothes his

present lust, which, check'd, Would check plagues future; and he might, in succouring right, protect Such as fight for his right at fleet. They still in safety fight, That fight still justly.'

This speech used,

Patroclus did the rite His friend commanded, and brought forth Briseis from her tent,

Gave her the heralds, and away to th'
Achive ships they went.

She sad, and scarce for grief could go.
Her love all friends forsook,
And wept for anger. To the shore of th'
old sea he betook

Himself alone, and casting forth upon the purple sea

His wet eyes, and his hands to heaven ad

vancing, this sad plea

Made to his mother: Mother, since you brought me forth to breathe

So short a life, Olympius had good right to bequeath

My short life honour; yet that right he doth in no degree,

But lets Atrides do me shame, and force that prize from me That all the Greeks gave." This with tears he utter'd, and she heard, Set with her old sire in his deeps, and instantly appear'd'

Up from the grey sea like a cloud, sate by his side, and said: "Why weeps my son? What grieves thee? speak, conceal not what hath laid

priest that shoots so far,

Chryses, the fair Chryseis' sire, arrived at th' Achive fleet,

With infinite ransom, to redeem the dear
imprison'd feet
Of his fair daughter.
Apollo's crown,

In his hands he held [Greciar son, And golden sceptre; making suit to every But most the sons of Atreus, the others' orderers,

Yet they least heard him; all the rest received with reverend ears

The motion, both the priests and gifts gracing, and holding worth

His wish'd acceptance. Atreus' son yet (vex'd) commanded forth

With rude terms Phoebus' reverend priest; who, angry, made retreat,

And pray'd to Phoebus, in whose grace he standing passing great

Got his petition. The God an ill shaft sent abroad

That tumbled down the Greeks in heaps. The host had no abode

That was not visited. We ask'd a prophet that well knew

The cause of all; and from his lips Apollo's prophecies flew,

Telling his anger. First myself exhorted to appease

The anger'd God; which Atreus' son did at the heart displease,

And up he stood, used threats, perform'd. The black-eyed Greeks sent home Chryseis to her sire, and gave his God a hecatomb.

Then, for Briseis, to my tents Atrides' heralds came,

And took her, that the Greeks gave, all.
If then thy powers can frame
Wreak for thy son, afford it. Scale Olym-
pus, and implore

Jove (if by either word, or fact, thou ever didst restore

Joy to his grieved heart) now to help. I oft have heard thee vaunt,

In rescue from a cruel spoil the black

cloud-gathering Jove,

Whom other Godheads would have bound (the Power whose pace doth move The round earth, heaven's great Queen, and Pallas); to whose bands Thou camest with rescue, bringing up him with the hundred hands

To great Olympus, whom the Gods call Briareus, men

Ægaon, who his sire surpass'd, and was as strong again,

And in that grace sat glad by Jove. Th' immortals stood dismay'd [his aid. At his ascension, and gave free passage to Of all this tell Jove; kneel to him, embrace his knee, and pray

If Troy's aid he will ever deign, that now their forces may

Beat home the Greeks to fleet and sea; embruing their retreat

In slaughter; their pains paying the wreak of their proud sovereign's heat; And that far-ruling king may know, from his poor soldier's harms

His own harm falls; his own and all in mine, his Best in arms."

Her answer she pour'd out in tears: "O me, my son," said she, "Why brought I up thy being at all, that brought thee forth to be

Sad subject of so hard a fate? O would to heaven, that since

Thy fate is little, and not long, thou might'st without offence

And tears perform it. But to live, thrall to so stern a fate

As grants thee least life, and that least so most unfortunate,

Grieves me t' have given thee any life.
But what thou wishest now,
If Jove will grant, I'll up and ask; Olym-
pus crown'd with snow

I'll climb; but sit thou fast at fleet, renounce all war, and feed

Thy heart with wrath, and hope o. wreak ; till which come, thou shalt need A little patience. Jupiter went yesterday to feast Amongst the blameless Æthiops, in th' ocean's deepen'd breast,

All Gods attending him; the twelfth, high heaven again he sees, And then his brass-paved court I'll scale, cling to his powerful knees, And doubt not but to win thy wish." Thus, made she her remove,

And left wrath tyring on her son, for his enforced love.

Ulysses, with the hecatomb, arrived at Chrysa's shore;

And when amidst the haven's deep mouth, they came to use the oar,

They straight strook sail, then roll'd them up, and on the hatches threw ; The top-mast to the kelsine then, with halyards down they drew ;

Then brought the ship to port with oars; then forked anchor cast;

And, 'gainst the violence of storms, for drifting made her fast.

All come ashore, they all exposed the holy hecatomb

To angry Phoebus, and, with it, Chryseis welcomed home;

Whom to her sire, wise Ithacus, that did at th' altar stand,

For honour led, and, spoken thus, resign'd her to his hand :

"Chryses, the mighty king of men, great Agamemnon, sends

Thy loved seed by my hands to thine; and to thy God commends

A hecatomb, which my charge is to sacrifice, and seek

Our much-sigh-mix'd woe, his recure, invoked by every Greek."

Thus he resign'd her, and her sire received her, highly joy'd.

About the well-built altar, then, they orderly employ'd

The sacred offering, wash'd their hands,
took salt cakes; and the priest,
With hands held up to heaven, thus pray'd:
"O thou that all things seest,
Fautor of Chrysa, whose fair hand doth
guardfully dispose
[Tenedos,
Celestial Cilla, governing in all power
O hear thy priest, and as thy hand, in free
grace to my prayers,

Shot fervent plague-shafts through the
Greeks, now hearten their affairs
With health renew'd, and quite remove th'
infection from their blood."

He pray'd; and to his prayers again the
God propitious stood.

All, after prayer, cast on salt cakes, drew
back, kill'd, flay'd the beeves,
Cut out and dubb'd with fat their thighs,
fair dress'd with doubled leaves,
And on them all the sweetbreads prick'd.
The priest, with small sere wood,
Did sacrifice, pour'd on red wine; by
whom the young men stood,
And turn'd, in five ranks, spits; on which
(the legs enough) they eat
The inwards; then in giggots cut the other
fit for meat,

And put to fire; which, roasted well, they drew. The labour done,

They served the feast in, that fed all to satisfaction.

Desire of meat and wine thus quench'd, the youths crown'd cups of wine Drunk off, and fill'd again to all. That day was held divine,

And spent in pæans to the Sun, who heard with pleased ear;

When whose bright chariot stoop'd to sea, and twilight hid the clear,

All soundly on their cables slept, even till

the night was worn.

And when the lady of the light, the rosyfinger'd Morn,

Rose from the hills, all fresh arose, and to the camp retired.

Apollo with a fore-right wind their swelling bark inspired.

The top-mast hoisted, milk-white sails on his round breast they put,

The mizens strooted with the gale, the ship her course did cut

So swiftly that the parted waves against her

ribs did rore; [aloft the sandy shore, Which, coming to the camp, they drew Where, laid on stocks, each soldier kept his quarter as before.

But Feleus' son, swift-foot Achilles, at his swift ships sate, Burning in wrath, nor ever came to councils of estate

That make men honour'd; never trod the fierce embattail'd field,

But kept close, and his loved heart pined :

what fight and cries could yield Thirsting at all parts to the host. And now, since first he told

His wrongs to Thetis, twelve fair morns
their ensigns did unfold,
And then the ever-living gods mounted
Olympus, Jove

First in ascension. Thetis then, re

member'd well to move

Achilles' motion, rose from sea, and, by the morn's first light,

The great heaven and Olympus climb'd; where, in supremest height Of all that many-headed hill, she saw the far-seen son [seat alone. Of Saturn, set from all the rest, in his free Before whom, on her own knees fall'n, the knees of Jupiter

Her left hand held, her right his chin, and thus she did prefer

Her son's petition: "Father Jove! If ever
I have stood
[implored good
Aidful to thee in word or work, with this

Requite my aid, renown my son, since in so short a race

(Past others) thou confinest his life. An insolent disgrace

Is done him by the king of men; he forced from him a prize

Won with his sword. But thou, O Jove that art most strong, most wise, Honour my son for my sake; add strength to the Trojans' side

By his side's weakness in his want; and see Troy amplified

In conquest, so much, and so long, till Greece may give again

The glory reft him, and the more illustrate the free reign

Of his wrong'd honour." Jove at this sate silent; not a word

In

Thetis still

long space pass'd him. hung on his knee, implored The second time his help, and said: "Grant, or deny my suit,

Be free in what thou doest; I know, thou canst not sit thus mute

For fear of any; speak, deny, that so I may be sure,

Of all heaven's Goddesses 'tis I, that only must endure

Dishonour by thee." Jupiter, the great cloud-gatherer, grieved

With thought of what a world of griefs this suit ask'd, being achieved; Swell'd, sigh'd, and answer'd:

Works of

death thou urgest. O, at this Juno will storm, and all my powers inflame with contumelies.

Ever she wrangles, charging me in ear of all the Gods

That I am partial still, that I add the displeasing odds

Of my aid to the Ilians. Begone then, lest she see;

Leave thy request to my care; yet, that trust may hearten thee

With thy desire's grant, and my power to give it act approve

How vain her strife is, to thy prayer my eminent head shall move; Which is the great sign of my will with all th' immortal states; [rates Irrevocable; never fails; never without the Of all powers else; when my head bows, all heads bow with it still

As their first mover; and gives power to any work I will."

He said; and his black eyebrows bent; above his deathless head

Th' ambrosian curls flow'd; great heaven shook; and both were severed,

Their counsels broken. To the depth of

Neptune's kingdom dived

Thetis from heaven's height; Jove arose; and all the Gods received

(All rising from their thrones) their Sire,

attending to his court.

None sate when he rose, none delay'd the furnishing his port

Till he came near; all met with him, and brought him to his throne.

Nor sate great Juno ignorant, when she beheld alone

Old Nereus' silver-footed seed with Jove, that she had brought Counsels to heaven; and straight her

tongue had teeth in it, that wrought This sharp invective: "Who was that (thou craftiest counsellor

Of all the Gods) that so apart some secret did implore?

Ever, apart from me, thou lovest to counsel and decree

Things of more close trust than thou

think'st are fit t' impart to me. Whatever thou determinest, I must ever be denied [speech thus replied The knowledge of it by thy will." To her The Father both of men and Gods:

"Have never hope to know My whole intentions, though my wife; it fits not, nor would show Well to thine own thoughts; but what fits thy woman's ear to hear, Woman, nor man, nor God, shall know before it grace thine ear.

Yet what, apart from men and Gods, I please to know, forbear

T'examine, or inquire of that." She with the cow's fair eyes,

Respected Juno, this return'd: "Austere king of the skies,

What hast thou utter'd?

When did I

before this time inquire, Or sift thy counsels? Passing close you are still. Your desire

Is served with such care, that I fear you can scarce vouch the deed That makes it public, being seduced by this old sea-god's seed, That could so early use her knees, em

bracing thine. I doubt, [working out The late act of thy bowed head was for the Of some boon she ask'd; that her son thy

partial hand would please With plaguing others." "Wretch !" said he,thy subtle jealousies Are still exploring; my designs can never 'scape thine eye, [curiosity Which yet thou never canst prevent. Thy

Makes thee less cared for at my hands, and horrible the end [suspects intend, Shall make thy humour. If it be what thy What then? "Tis my free will it should; to which let way be given

With silence. Curb your tongue in time; lest all the Gods in heaven

Too few be and too weak to help thy punish'd insolence,

When my inaccessible hands shall fall on thee." The sense

Of this high threatening made her fear, and silent she sate down,

Humbling her great heart. All the Gods in court of Jove did frown

At this offence given; amongst whom heaven's famous artisan,

Ephaistus, in his mother's care, this comely speech began:

"Believe it, these words will breed

wounds, beyond our powers to bear, If thus for mortals ye fall out. Ye make a tumult here

That spoils our banquet. Evermore worst matters put down best.

But, mother, though yourself be wise, yet let your son request

His wisdom audience. Give good terms to our loved father Jove,

For fear he take offence again, and our kind banquet prove

A wrathful battle. If he will, the heavenly Lightener can

Take you and toss you from your throne ; his power Olympian

Is so surpassing. Soften then with gentle speech his spleen,

And drink to him; I know his heart will quickly down again."

This said, arising from his throne, in his loved mother's hand

He put the double-handled cup, and said: 'Come, do not stand

On these cross humours; suffer, bear, though your great bosom grieve, And let blows force you; all my aid not able to relieve

Your hard condition, though these eyes behold it, and this heart

Sorrow to think it. "Tis a task too dangerous to take part

Against Olympius. I myself the proof of this still feel.

When other Gods would fain have help'd, he took me by the heel,

And hurl'd me out of heaven. All day I was in falling down;

At length in Lemnos I strook earth; the likewise-falling sun