His strong-wing’d lance, but neck and all gave way, and down he dropp’d.
Peneleus then unsheath’d his sword, and from the shoulders chopp’d
His luckless head; which down he threw, the helm still sticking on,
And still the lance fix’d in his eye; which not to see alone
Contented him, but up again he snatch’d, and show’d it all,
With this stern brave: ‘Ilians, relate brave Ilioneus’ fall
To his kind parents, that their roofs their tears may overrun,
For so the house of Promachus, and Alegenor’s son,
Must with his wife’s eyes overflow, she never seeing more
Her dear lord, though we tell his death, when to our native shore
We bring from ruin’d Troy our fleet, and men so long forgone.’
This said, and seen, pale Fear possess’d all those of Ilion,
And ev’ry man cast round his eye, to see where death was not,
That he might flee him. Let not then his grac’d hand be forgot
(O Muses, you that dwell in heav’n) that first imbru’d the field
With Trojan spoil, when Neptune thus had made their irons yield.
First Ajax Telamonius the Mysian captain slew,
Great Hyrtius Gyrtiades; Antilochus o’erthrew
Phalces and Mermer, to their spoil; Meriones gave end
To Moris and Hippotion; Teucer to fate did send
Prothoön and Periphetes; Atrides’ javelin chas’d
Duke Hyperenor, wounding him in that part that is plac’d
Betwixt the short ribs and the bones that to the triple gut
Have pertinence; the javelin’s head did out his entrails cut,
His forc’d soul breaking through the wound: night’s black hand clos’d his eyes;
Then Ajax, great Oïleus’ son, had divers victories;
For when Saturnius suffer’d flight, of all the Grecian race
Not one with swiftness of his feet could so enrich a chace.
The end of the fourteenth book
Book 15
The Argument
Jove waking, and beloved Troy in flight,
Chides Juno, and sends Iris to the fight,
To charge the sea-god to forsake the field,
And Phoebus to invade it with his shield,
Recovering Hector’s bruis’d and eras’d pow’rs:
To field he goes, and makes new conquerors,
The Trojans giving now the Grecians chase
Ev’n to their fleet. Then Ajax turns his face,
And feeds, with many Trojan lives, his ire;
Who then brought brands to set the fleet on fire.
Another Argument
Jove sees in
O
his oversight,
Chides Juno, Neptune calls from fight.
Book 15
The Trojans (beat past pale and dike, and numbers prostrate laid)
All got to chariot, fear-driv’n all, and fear’d as men dismay’d.
Then Jove on Ida’s top awak’d, rose from Saturnia’s side,
Stood up, and look’d upon the war, and all inverted spied,
Since he had seen it – th’ Ilians now in rout, the Greeks in fight;
King Neptune, with his long sword, chief; great Hector put down quite,
Laid flat in field, and with a crown of princes compassed,
So stopp’d up that he scarce could breathe, his mind’s sound habit fled,
And he still spitting blood. Indeed, his hurt was not set on
By one that was the weakest Greek. But him Jove look’d upon
With eyes of pity; on his wife with horrible aspect,
To whom he said: ‘O thou in ill most cunning architect,
All arts and comments that exceed’st! Not only to enforce
Hector from fight, but with his men to show the Greeks a course.
I fear (as formerly, so now) these ills have with thy hands
Their first fruits sown, and therefore could load all thy limbs with bands.
Forgett’st thou when I hang’d thee up, how to thy feet I tied
Two anvils, golden manacles on thy false wrists implied,
And let thee mercilessly hang from our refined heav’n
Even to earth’s vapours; all the gods in great Olympus giv’n
To mutinies about thee, yet (though all stood staring on)
None durst dissolve thee; for these hands (had they but seiz’d upon
Thy friend) had headlong thrown him off, from our star-bearing round,
Till he had tumbled out his breath, and piece-meal dash’d the ground.
Nor was my angry spirit calm’d so soon for those foul seas,
On which (inducing northern flaws) thou shipwreck’dst Hercules,
And toss’d him to the Coan shore, that thou shouldst tempt again
My wrath’s importance, when thou seest (besides) how grossly vain
My pow’rs can make thy policies: for from their utmost force
I freed my son, and set him safe in Argos, nurse of horse.
These I remember to thy thoughts, that thou mayst shun these sleights,
And know how badly bed-sports thrive, procur’d by base deceits.’
This frighted the offending queen, who with this state excus’d
Her kind unkindness: ‘Witness earth and heaven, so far diffus’d,
Thou flood, whose silent-gliding waves the under ground doth bear
(Which is the great’st and gravest oath that any god can swear),
Thy sacred head, those secret joys, that our young bed gave forth
(By which I never rashly swore), that he who shakes the earth
Not by my counsel did this wrong to Hector and his host,
But pitying th’ oppressed Greeks, their fleet being nearly lost,
Reliev’d their hard condition, yet utterly impell’d
By his free mind: which since I see is so offensive held
To thy high pleasure, I will now advise him not to tread
But where thy tempest-raising feet, O Jupiter, shall lead.’
Jove laugh’d to hear her so submiss, and said: ‘My fair-ey’d love,
If still thus thou and I were one (in counsels held above),
Neptune would still, in word and fact, be ours, if not in heart;
If then thy tongue and heart agree, from hence to heav’n depart,
To call the excellent-in-bows, the Rain-bow, and the Sun,
That both may visit both the hosts – the Grecian army one,
And that is Iris; let her haste, and make the sea-god cease
T’ assist the Greeks, and to his court retire from war in peace.
Let Phoebus (on the Trojan part) inspire with wonted pow’r
Great Hector’s spirits: make his thoughts forget the late stern hour,
And all his anguish, setting on his whole recover’d man
To make good his late grace in fight, and hold in constant wane
The Grecian glories, till they fall in flight before the fleet
Of vex’d Achilles; which extreme will prove the mean to greet
Thee with thy wish, for then the eyes of great Aeacides
(Made witness of the general ill, that doth so near him prease)
Will make his own particular look out, and by degrees
Abate his wrath, that through himself for no extremities
Will seem reflected; yet his friend may get of him the grace
To help his country in his arms; and he shall make fit place
For his full presence with his death, which shall be well fore-run:
For I will first renown his life with slaughter of my son
(Divine Sarpedon), and his death great Hector’s pow’r shall wreak,
Ending his ends. Then at once, out shall the fury break
Of fierce Achilles: and with that, the flight now felt shall turn,
And then last, till in wrathful flames the long-sieg’d Ilion burn.
Minerva’s counsel shall become grave mean to this my will,
Which no god shall neglect, before Achilles take his fill
Of slaughter for his slaughter’d friend: even Hector’s slaughter, thrown
Under his anger; that these facts may then make fully known
My vow’s performance, made of late, and with my bowed head
Confirm’d to Thetis, when her arms embrac’d my knees, and pray’d
That to her city-razing son I would all honour show.’
This heard, his charge she seem’d t’ intend, and to Olympus flew.
But, as the mind of such a man that hath a great way gone,
And either knowing not his way, or then would let alone
His purpos’d journey, is distract, and in his vexed mind
Resolves now not to go, now goes, still many ways inclin’d:
So reverend Juno headlong flew, and ’gainst her stomach striv’d.
For (being amongst th’ immortal gods, in high heav’n, soon arriv’d,
All rising, welcoming with cups her little absence thence)
She all their courtships overpast with solemn negligence,
Save that which fair-cheek’d Themis show’d, and her kind cup she took:
For first she ran and met with her, and ask’d what troubled look
She brought to heav’n. She thought (for truth) that Jove had terrified
Her spirits strangely, since she went. The fair-arm’d queen replied:
‘That truth may easily be suppos’d; you (goddess Themis) know
His old severity and pride; but you bear’t out with show,
And like the banquet’s arbiter amongst th’ immortals fare,
Though well you hear amongst them all how bad his actions are,
Nor are all here, nor anywhere, mortals nor gods (I fear),
Entirely pleas’d with what he does, though thus ye banquet here.’
Thus took she place, displeasedly, the feast in general
Bewraying privy spleens at Jove; and then (to colour all)
She laugh’d, but merely from her lips: for over her black brows
Her still-bent forehead was not clear’d; yet this her passion’s throes
Brought forth in spite, being lately school’d: ‘Alas, what fools are we
That envy Jove, or that by act, word, thought, can fantasy
Any resistance to his will! He sits far off, nor cares,
Nor moves, but says he knows his strength, to all degrees compares
His greatness, past all other gods, and that in fortitude,
And every other godlike pow’r, he reigns past all indu’d.
For which great eminence all you gods whatever ill he does
Sustain with patience: here is Mars, I think, not free from woes,
And yet he bears them like himself. The great god had a son,
Whom he himself yet justifies, one that from all men won
Just surname of their best belov’d, Ascalaphus; yet he
(By Jove’s high grace to Troy) is slain.’ Mars started horribly
(As Juno knew he would) at this, beat, with his hurl’d out hands,
His brawny thighs, cried out, and said: ‘O you that have commands
In these high temples, bear with me, if I revenge the death
Of such a son: I’ll to the fleet, and though I sink beneath
The fate of being shot to hell by Jove’s fell thunder-stone,
And lie all grim’d amongst the dead with dust and blood, my son
Revenge shall honour.’ Then he charg’d Fear and Dismay to join
His horse and chariot; he got arms, that over heav’n did shine:
And then a wrath more great and grave in Jove had been prepar’d
Against the gods, than Juno caus’d, if Pallas had not car’d
More for the peace of heaven than Mars; who leap’d out of her throne,
Rapt up her helmet, lance and shield, and made her fane’s porch groan
With her egression to his stay, and thus his rage defers:
‘Furious and foolish, th’ art undone; hast thou for nought thine ears?
Heard’st thou not Juno, being arriv’d from heaven’s great king but now?
Or wouldst thou he himself should rise (forc’d with thy rage) to show
The dreadful pow’r she urg’d in him, so justly being stirr’d?
Know (thou most impudent and mad) thy wrath had not inferr’d
Mischief to thee, but to us all? His spirit had instantly
Left both the hosts, and turn’d his hands to uproars in the sky.
Guilty and guiltless both to wrack in his high rage had gone:
And therefore (as thou lov’st thysel
f
) cease fury for thy son.
Another, far exceeding him in heart and strength of hand,
Or is, or will be shortly slain. It were a work would stand
Jove in much trouble, to free all from death that would not die.’
This threat ev’n nail’d him to his throne, when heav’n’s chief majesty
Call’d bright Apollo from his fane, and Iris that had place
Of internunciess from the gods, to whom she did the grace
Of Jupiter, to this effect: ‘It is Saturnius’ will
That both, with utmost speed, should stoop to the Idalian hill,
To know his further pleasure there. And this let me advise,
When you arrive, and are in reach of his refulgent eyes,
His pleasure heard, perform it all, of whatsoever kind.’
Thus mov’d she back, and us’d her throne. Those two outstripp’d the wind,
And Ida (all enchas’d with springs) they soon attain’d, and found
Where far-discerning Jupiter, in his repose, had crown’d
The brows of Gargarus, and wrapt an odoriferous cloud
About his bosom. Coming near, they stood; nor now he show’d
His angry countenance, since so soon he saw they made th’ access
That his lov’d wife enjoin’d. But first the fair ambassadress
He thus commanded: ‘Iris, go to Neptune, and relate
Our pleasure truly, and at large; command him from the fate
Of human war, and either greet the gods’ society,
Or the divine sea make his seat. If proudly he deny,
Let better counsels be his guides than such as bid me war
And tempt my charge, though he be strong; for I am stronger far,
And elder born: nor let him dare to boast ev’n state with me,
Whom all gods else prefer in fear.’ This said, down hasted she
From Ida’s top to Ilion; and like a mighty snow,
Or gelid hail, that from the clouds the northern spirit doth blow:
So fell the windy-footed dame; and found with quick repair
The wat’ry god, to whom she said: ‘God with the sable hair,
I come from aegis-bearing Jove, to bid thee cease from fight,
And visit heav’n or th’ ample seas: which if, in his despite
Or disobedience, thou deniest, he threatens thee to come
(In opposite fight) to field himself, and therefore warns thee home,
His hands eschewing, since his pow’r is far superior,
His birth before thee, and affirms thy lov’d heart should abhor
To vaunt equality with him, whom every deity fears.’
He answer’d: ‘O unworthy thing! Though he be great, he bears
His tongue too proudly, that ourself, born to an equal share
Of state and freedom, he would force. Three brothers born we are
To Saturn; Rhea brought us forth: this Jupiter and I,
And Pluto, god of under-grounds. The world indifferently
Dispos’d betwixt us, every one his kingdom – I, the seas,
Pluto the black lot, Jupiter the principalities
Of broad heav’n, all the sky and clouds – was sorted out: the earth
And high Olympus common are, and due to either’s birth.
Why then should I be aw’d by him? Content he his great heart
With his third portion, and not think to amplify his part
With terrors of his stronger hands on me, as if I were
The most ignoble of us all: let him contain in fear
His daughters and his sons, begot by his own person: this
Holds more convenience; they must hear these violent threats of his.’
‘Shall I,’ said Iris, ‘bear from thee an answer so austere?
Or wilt thou change it? Changing minds all noble natures bear:
And well thou know’st, these greatest born the Furies follow still.’
He answer’d: ‘Iris, thy reply keeps time, and shows thy skill:
O ’tis a most praiseworthy thing, when messengers can tell
(Besides their messages) such things as fit th’ occasion well.
But this much grieves my heart and soul, that being in pow’r and state
All ways his equal, and so fix’d by one decree in fate,
He should to me, as under him, ill language give, and chide;
Yet now (though still incens’d) I yield, affirming this beside
(And I enforce it with a threat), that if without consent
Of me, Minerva, Mercury, the queen of regiment,
And Vulcan, he will either spare high Ilion, or not race
Her turrets to the lowest stone, and (with both these) not grace
The Greeks as victors absolute, inform him this from me:
His pride and my contempt shall live at endless enmity.’
This said, he left the Greeks, and rush’d into his wat’ry throne,
Much miss’d of all th’ heroic host. When Jove discern’d him gone,
Apollo’s service he employ’d, and said: ‘Lov’d Phoebus, go