Tydides, that 'gainst Jove himself durst now advance his arm.

He granted, and his chariot (perplex'd with her late harm)

She mounted, and on her waggoness was she that paints the air.

The horse she rein'd, and with a scourge importuned their repair,

That of themselves out-flew the wind, and quickly they ascend Olympus, high seat of the Gods. Th' horse

knew their journey's end, Stood still, and from their chariot the windy-footed dame

Dissolved, and gave them heavenly food; and to Dione came

Her wounded daughter, bent her knees: she kindly bade her stand, With sweet embraces help'd her up, stroked her with her soft hand, Call'd kindly by her name, and ask'd: "What God hath been so rude, Sweet daughter to chastise thee thus, as if thou wert pursued

Even to the act of some light sin, and deprehended so?

For otherwise, each close escape is in the great let go."

She answer'd: "Haughty Tydeus' son hath been so insolent,

Since, he whom most my heart esteems of all my loved descent,

I rescued from his bloody hand. Now battle is not given

To any Trojans by the Greeks, but by the Greeks to heaven."

She answer'd: "Daughter, think not much, though much it grieve thee; use The patience, whereof many Gods examples may produce,

In many bitter ills received, as well that men sustain

By their inflictions, as by men repaid to them again.

Mars suffer'd much more than thyself by Ephialtes' power, [tower, And Otus', Aloëus' sons; who in a brazen And in inextricable chains, cast that wargreedy God,

Where twice-six months and one he lived, and there the period

Of his sad life perhaps had closed, if his kind stepdame's eye,

Fair Erebæa, had not seen; who told it Mercury,

And he by stealth enfranchised him; though he could scarce enjoy

The benefit of franchisement, the chains did so destroy

His vital forces with their weight. So Juno suffer'd more

When, with a three-fork'd arrow's head, Amphitryo's son did gore

Her right breast, past all hope of cure. Pluto sustain'd no less [bitterness By that self man, and by a shaft of equal Shot through his shoulder at hell gates; and there, amongst the dead, Were he not deathless, he had died; but up to heaven he fled,

Extremely tortured, for recure, which instantly he won

At Pæon's hand, with sovereign balm; and this did Jove's great son.

Unblest, great-high-deed-daring man, that cared not doing ill,

That with his bow durst wound the Gods; but, by Minerva's will,

Thy wound the foolish Diomed was so profane to give ;

Not knowing he that fights with Heaven hath never long to live;

And for this deed, he never shall have child about his knee

To call him father, coming home. Besides, hear this from me,

Strength-trusting man, though thou be strong, and art in strength a tower, Take heed a stronger meet thee not, and that a woman's power

Contains not that superior strength, and lest that woman be

Adrastus' daughter, and thy wife, the wise Ægiale;

When, from this hour not far, she wakes, even sighing with desire

To kindle our revenge on thee, with her enamouring fire,

In choosing her some fresh young friend, and so drown all thy fame,

Won here in war, in her court-peace, and in an opener shame."

This said, with both her hands she cleansed the tender back and palm Of all the sacred blood they lost; and never using balm,

The pain ceased, and the wound was cured of this kind Queen of love.

Juno and Pallas, seeing this, assay'd to anger Jove,

And quit his late-made mirth with them, about the loving Dame,

With some sharp jest, in like sort built, upon her present shame.

Grey-eyed Athenia began, and ask'd the Thunderer,

If, nothing moving him to wrath, she boldly might prefer,

staying no reply,

She bade him view the Cyprian fruit he loved so tenderly,

Whom she though hurt, and by this means, intending to suborn Some other lady of the Greeks (whom lovely veils adorn)

To gratify some other friend of her muchloved Troy, [the Venerean joy, As she embraced and stirr'd her blood to The golden clasp, those Grecian dames upon their girdles wear,

Took hold of her delicious hand, and hurt it, she had fear.

The Thunderer smiled, and call'd to him love's golden Arbitress, And told her those rough works of war

were not for her access;

She should be making marriages, embracings, kisses, charms,

Stern Mars and Pallas had the charge of those affairs in arms

While these thus talk'd, Tydides' rage still thirsted to achieve

His prize upon Anchises' son, though well he did perceive

The Sun himself protected him; but his desires (inflamed

With that great Trojan prince's blood, and arms so highly famed)

Not that great God did reverence. Thrice rush'd he rudely on,

And thrice, betwixt his darts and death, the Sun's bright target shone; But when upon the fourth assault, much like a spirit, he flew,

The far-off-working Deity exceeding wrathful grew,

And ask'd him: "What! Not yield to
Gods? thy equals learn to know.
The race of Gods is far above men creeping
here below."

This drave him to some small retreat; he would not tempt more near The wrath of him that strook so far; whose power had now set clear Eneas from the stormy field within the holy place

Of Pergamus, where, to the hope of his so

he did create

Like Venus' son; for which the Greeks and Trojans made debate,

Laid loud strokes on their ox-hide shields,
and bucklers easily borne ;
Which error Phoebus pleased to urge on
Mars himself in scorn:

Of

"Mars, Mars," said he, "thou plague of men, smear'd with the dust and blood humans and their ruin'd walls, yet thinks thy Godhead good

To fright this fury from the field, who next will fight with Jove?

First in a bold approach he hurt, the moist palm of thy love,

And next, as if he did affect to have a Deity's power,

He held out his assault on me." This said, the lofty tower

Of Pergamus he made his seat; and Mars did now excite [led to fight The Trojan forces, in the form of him that The Thracian troops, swift Acamas.

Priam's sons," said he,

"How long the slaughter of your men can ye sustain to see?

Even till they brave ye at your gates?

"

ye suffer beaten down [we renown Eneas, great Anchises' son, whose prowess As much as Hector's; fetch him off from this contentious prease." With this, the strength and spirits of all his courage did increase; And yet Sarpedon seconds him, with this

particular taunt [unthankful vaunt, Of noble Hector: "Hector, where is thy And that huge strength on which it built, that thou, and thy allies,

With all thy brothers (without aid of us or our supplies,

And troubling not a citizen) the city safe would hold?

In all which friends' and brothers' helps I see not, nor am told

Of any one of their exploits (but all held in dismay [lion bay,

Of Diomed, like a sort of dogs, that at a And entertain no spirit to pinch) we, your assistants here,

Fight for the town as you help'd us; and I, an aiding peer,

come a man

No citizen, even out of care, that doth be[aid I can; For men and children's liberties, add all the Not out of my particular cause; far hence my profit grows,

For far hence Asian Lycia lies, where gulfy Xanthus flows,

And where my loved wife, infant son, and

treasure nothing scant,

I left behind me, which I see those men would have that want;

And therefore they that have would keep: yet I, as I would lose

Their sure fruition, cheer my troops, and with their lives propose

Mine own life, both to general fight, and

to particular cope [entertain no hope With this great soldier; though, I say, I To have such gettings as the Greeks, nor

fear to lose like Troy.

Yet thou, even Hector, deedless stand'st, and carest not to employ Thy town-born friends, to bid them stand, to fight and save their wives, Lest as a fowler casts his nets upon the silly lives

Of birds of all sorts, so the foe your walls and houses hales,

One with another, on all heads; or such as 'scape their falls,

Be made the prey and prize of them (as willing overthrown)

That holp not for you with their force; and so this brave-built town

Will prove a chaos. That deserves in thee so hot a care,

As should consume thy days and nights, to

hearten and prepare

Th' assistant princes; pray their minds to

bear their far-brought toils; To give them worth with worthy fight; in victories and foils

Still to be equal; and thyself, exampling them in all,

Need no reproofs nor spurs. All this in thy free choice should fall."

This stung great Hector's heart; and yet, as every generous mind Should silent bear a just reproof, and shew what good they find

In worthy counsels, by their ends put into present deeds,

Not stomach, nor be vainly shamed; so

Hector's spirit proceeds:

And from his chariot, wholly arm'd, he jump'd upon the sand,

On foot so toiling through the host, a dart in either hand,

And all hands turn'd against the Greeks:

the Greeks despised their worst, And, thickening their instructed powers, expected all they durst.

Then with the feet of horse and foot, the dust in clouds did rise.

And as, in sacred floors of barns, upon corn-winnowers flies

The chaff, driven with an opposite wind, when yellow Ceres dites,

Which all the diters' feet, legs, arms, their heads and shoulders whites; So look'd the Grecians grey with dust, that strook the solid heaven,

Raised from returning chariots, and troops together driven.

Each side stood to their labours firm: fierce Mars flew through the air, And gather'd darkness from the fight, and, with his best affair,

Obey'd the pleasure of the Sun, that wears the golden sword,

Who bade him raise the spirits of Troy, when Pallas ceased t' afford

Her helping office to the Greeks; and then his own hands wrought,

Which, from his fane's rich chancel, cured, the true Æneas brought,

And placed him by his peers in field; who did with joy admire

To see him both alive and safe, and all his powers entire :

Yet stood not sifting how it chanced; another sort of task,

Than stirring th' idle sieve of news, did all their forces ask,

Inflamed by Phoebus, harmful Mars, and Eris eagerer far.

The Greeks had none to hearten them; their hearts rose with the war ;

But chiefly Diomed, Ithacus, and both th' Ajaces used

Stirring examples and good words; their own fames had infused

Spirit enough into their bloods, to make them neither fear

The Trojans' force, nor Fate itself, but still expecting were,

When most was done, what would be more; their ground they still made good, And in their silence, and set powers, like fair still clouds, they stood, With which Jove crowns the tops of hills, in any quiet day, [to drive away When Boreas and the ruder winds (that use Air's dusky vapours, being loose, in many a whistling gale)

Are pleasingly bound up, and calm, and not a breath exhale;

So firmly stood the Greeks, nor fled for all the Ilions' aid.

Atrides yet coasts through the troops, confirming men so staid :

"O friends," said he, "hold up your

minds; strength is but strength of will; Reverence each other's good in fight, and shame at things done ill.

Where soldiers shew an honest shame, and

love of honour lives,

That ranks men with the first in fight, death fewer liveries gives Than life, or than where Fame's neglect makes cowards fight at length. Flight neither doth the body grace, nor shows the mind hath strength." He said, and swiftly through the troops a mortal lance did send,

That reft a standard-bearer's life, renown'd Eneas' friend,

Deïcoön Pergasides, whom all the Trojans loved

As he were one of Priam's sons, his mind

was so approved

In always fighting with the first. The lance his target took,

Which could not interrupt the blow, that through it clearly strook,

And in his belly's rim was sheathed, beneath his girdle-stead.

He sounded falling, and his arms with him resounded, dead.

Then fell two princes of the Greeks by great Æneas' ire, Diocleus' sons (Orsilochus and Crethon), whose kind sire

In bravely-builded Phæra dwelt, rich, and of sacred blood.

He was descended lineally from great
Alphæus' flood,

That broadly flows through Pylos' fields;
Alphæus did beget
[was set;
Orsiiochus, who in the rule of many men
And that Orsilochus begat the rich
Diocleus;

Diocleus sire to Crethon was, and this
Orsilochus.

Both these, arrived at man's estate, with both th' Atrides went,

To honour them in th' Ilion wars; and both were one day sent,

To death as well as Troy; for death hid both in one black hour.

As two young lions (with their dam, sustain'd but to devour)

Bred on the tops of some steep hill, and in the gloomy deep

Of an inaccessible wood, rush out, and prey on sheep,

Steers, oxen, and destroy men's stalls, so long that they came short, And by the owner's steel are slain; in such unhappy sort

Fell these beneath Æneas' power. When Menelaus view'd,

Like two tall fir-trees, these two fall, their timeless falls he rued,

And to the first fight, where they lay, a vengeful force he took;

His arms beat back the sun in flames, a dreadful lance he shook;

Mars put the fury in his mind, that by Eneas' hands,

Who was to make the slaughter good, he might have strew'd the sands. Antilochus, old Nestor's son, observing he was bent

To urge a combat of such odds, and knowing the event

Being ill on his part, all their pains (alone sustain'd for him)

Err'd from their end, made after hard, and took them in the trim Of an encounter.

Both their hands and darts advanced, and shook, And both pitch'd in full stand of charge; when suddenly the look

Of Anchisiades took note of Nestor's valiant

In

son,

full charge too; which, two to one, made Venus' issue shun

The hot adventure, though he were a soldier well-approved.

Then drew they off their slaughter'd

friends; who given to their beloved, They turn'd where fight shew'd deadliest

hate; and there mix'd with the dead Pylæmen, that the targeteers of Paphlagonia led,

A man like Mars; and with him fell good
Mydon that did guide
His chariot, Atymnus' son.
The prince
Pylæmen died

By Menelaus; Nestor's joy slew Mydon ; [did gore

one before

The other in the chariot. Atrides' lance Pylæmen's shoulder, in the blade. Antilochus did force

A mighty stone up from the earth, and, as he turn'd his horse,

Strook Mydon's elbow in the midst; the reins of ivory

Fell from his hands into the dust; Antilochus let fly

His sword withal, and, rushing in, a blow so deadly laid

Upon his temples, that he groan'd, tumbled to earth, and stay'd

A mighty while preposterously (because the dust was deep)

Upon his neck and shoulders there, even till his foe took keep

Of his prized horse, and made them stir;
and then he prostrate fell.
His horse Antilochus took home. When
Hector had heard tell,

Amongst the uproar, of their deaths, he laid out all his voice, And ran upon the Greeks.

Behind came

many men of choice, Before him march'd great Mars himself, match'd with his female mate,

The dread Bellona. She brought on, to fight for mutual fate,

A tumult that was wild and mad. He shook a horrid lance,

And now led Hector, and anon behind would make the chance.

This sight when great Tydides saw, his hair stood up on end; And him, whom all the skill and power of arms did late attend,

Now like a man in counsel poor, that, travelling, goes amiss,

And having pass'd a boundless plain, not knowing where he is,

Comes on the sudden where he sees a river rough, and raves

With his own billows ravished into the king of waves,

Murmurs with foam, and frights him back; so he, amazed, retired,

And thus would make good his amaze:

"O friends, we all admired Great Hector, as one of himself, welldarting, bold in war,

When some God guards him still from death, and makes him dare so far. Now Mars himself, form'd like a man, is present in his rage,

And therefore, whatsoever cause importunes you to wage

War with these Trojans, never strive, but

Whole storms of lances, large, and sharp,

of which a number stuck

In his rough shield; yet from the slain he did his javelin pluck,

But could not from his shoulders force the arms he did affect,

The Trojans with such drifts of darts the body did protect;

And wisely Telamonius fear'd their valorous defence, [with such expense So many, and so strong of hand, stood in Of deadly prowess; who repell'd, though big, strong, bold, he were,

The famous Ajax, and their friend did from his rapture bear.

Thus this place fill'd with strength of fight, in th' army's other prease, Tlepolemus, a tall big man, the son of Hercules,

A cruel destiny inspired, with strong desire to prove [son of cloudy Jove; Encounter with Sarpedon's strength, the Who, coming on to that stern end, had chosen him his foe:

Thus Jove's great nephew, and his son, 'gainst one another go. Tlepolemus, to make his end more worth the will of fate, [the mortal state Began as if he had her power, and shew'd Of too much confidence in man, with this

superfluous brave: [humour drave "Sarpedon, what necessity or needless Thy form to these wars? which in heart I

know thou dost abhor, [counsellor? A man not seen in deeds of arms, a Lycian They lie that call thee son to Jove, since Jove bred none so late;

The men of elder times were they, that his high power begat,

Such men as had Herculean force. My father Hercules

Was Jove's true issue; he was bold; his deeds did well express

They sprung out of a lion's heart. He whilom came to Troy

(For horse that Jupiter gave Tros, for Ganymed, his boy),

With six ships only and few men, and tore the city down,

Left all her broadways desolate, and made the horse his own.

For thee, thy mind is ill disposed, thy body's powers are poor,

And therefore are thy troops so weak; the soldier evermore

Follows the temper of his chief; and thou pull'st down a side.

But say thou art the son of Jove, and hast thy means supplied