THE LIFE AND DEATH OF Hector. ONE, AND THE FIRST OF the most Puissant, Ʋaliant, and Renowned Monarches of the world, called the Nyne worthies. Shewing his jnvincible force, together with the marvailous, and most famous Acts by him atchieved and done in the great, long, and terrible Siege, which the Princes of Greece held about the towne of Troy, for the space of Tenne yeares. And finally his unfortunate death after hee had fought a Hundred mayne Battailes in open field against the Grecians: The which heerein are all at large described. Wherein there were slaine on both sides Fourteene Hundred, and Sixe Thowsand, Fourscore, and sixe men.

Written by Iohn Lidgate Monke of Berry, and by him dedica­ted to the high and mighty Prince Henrie the fift, King of England.

AT LONDON, Printed by Thomas Purfoot. Anno. Dom. 1614.

THE EPISTLE, AS IT vvas dedicated vnto the high and mightie Prince HENRY the Fift.

MOST puissant Prince,
whose fame is knowne so well,
And whose renowne
so farre abroad doth shine,
That it is found
all others to excell,
And equall with that of the worthies Nine:
Borne by discent of right Paternall line,
To be the heire, and th [...]onor to obtaine,
To weare the Crowne of mighty Kingdomes twaine.
Who even as farre as Phoebus in the spheare
Celestiall, doth spread his beames most bright;
And as Lucina with her face most cleare,
The world doth compasse round, & cast her light:
Art held to be the most renowned knight,
And worthy for the honor of thy name,
To sit on high in throane of Lady Fame.
And [...]hold the palme of honor in thy hand,
In triumph for thy noble victory,
For which thou feared [...]t by sea and land,
And ever with perpetuall praise and glory,
Shalt for thy conquest fresh in memory,
Sit opposite before her to be seene,
With wreath about thy head of Lawrell greene,
In former time for Conquerors ordain'd,
That constantly persever'd to the end,
And valiantly warre once begun maintain'd,
For causes iust, and did their right defend,
And therevnto their forces did only bend:
Whose fame's still spread, & was long time agone,
Among whom thou by right mayst sit for one.
For through the world it's known to every one,
(And flying Fame reports it farre and wide,)
That thou by naturall condition,
In things begun wilt constantly abide,
And for the time dost wholly set aside
All rest, and never carst what thou dost spend,
Till thou hast brought thy purpose to an end.
And that thou art most circumspect and wise,
And dost effect all things with providence,
(As Iosua did) by counsell and advise,
Against whose sword ther's none can make defēce,
And wisedome hast by heavenly influence,
With Salomon, to iudge and to discerne
Mens causes, and thy people to governe.
For mercy mixt with thy magnificence,
Doth make thee pitty all that are opprest,
And to withstand the force and violence
Of those that right and equity detest;
With Dauid thou to piety art prest;
And like to Iulius Caesar valorous,
That in his time was most victorious.
And in one hand (like worthy Prince) dost hold
Thy sword, to see that of thy subiects none
Against thee should presume, with courage bold
And pride of heart to raise rebellion,
Thereby to shake off thy subiection:
And in the other Scepter, to maintaine
True iustice, while amōgst vs thou dost raigne.
Then sith thou art adorn'd with Maiestie,
Grace, wisedome, pitie, and benignitie;
With humble heart I craue submissiuelie
That thou wilt not disdaine, but pleased be
T'accept this Booke, though rudely done by me:
Thereby thy great and Princely mind t'expresse,
By taking pitie of my simplenesse,
And in thy high and magnanimious hart,
With naturall jngrafted Sapience;
Remember Christ accepted in good part
The wido wes almes of two poore single pence,
When she (without expecting recompence)
Gaue to the poore with willing heart and glad,
That little gift being all that ere she had.
Let this, if that it may thee not offend,
Example be vnto thy Noblenesse,
And of thy great benignitie, extend
Thy favor vnto me with gentlenesse,
Not to disdaine me for my barrennesse
Of wit, and though I haue no skill in muse,
Let my good will and meaning me excuse.
More then good heart, none can whatsoere he bee
Present, or giue to God, nor vnto man.
Which for my part I wholy giue to thee,
And ever shall as farre foorth as I can,
Wherewith I will (as I at first began)
Continually, not ceasing night and day,
With sincere mind for thine estate thus pray.
First that thou maist Gods mercy so procure
Vnto thy selfe, that he may still advance
Thine honor, and that thou maist here endure
Thy raigne ore vs with long continuance,
And all thy Subiects true obeysance:
And that he will vouchsafe to giue to thee
All vertues whatsoere may reckned bee.

Lenvoy.

GO forth my Booke vaild with the Princely Grace
Of him, that is extold for excellence
Throughout the world, but do not shew thy face,
Without support of his magnificence:
And whosoere against thee takes offence,
Be thou not stubborne with presumption;
But see thou arme thy selfe with patience,
And gently yeeld to their correction.

The Translator to his Booke.

ANd sith thou art not limb'd with trees not flowers
Of Eloquence, but clad in white and blacke;
Thou must prepare thy selfe t'abide the showers,
Of them that of dislike occasion take:
And when thou likeliest art to go to wracke,
Seeme not gainst them thine error to defend;
But rather yeeld a little and giue backe,
And pray them, that they will thy faults amend.

THE PREFACE TO The READER.

MY Muses subiect
tending to intreate
Of ancient warres,
and acts of Chivalrie,
Whereby renowned Knights
much honour get:
And with Eternall parises deifie
(Their names and fames,) is forced to require
Thee mighty Mars with Art him to inspire.
Whose fiery nature bent to wrath and thrall,
(As being of complexion hot and drie,
Melancholicke, and furious withall,
For in thy bowels chollor hid doth lie)
Doth rightly cause all Poets sound thy fame,
And thee the God of warres in stories name.
Sith then thou art of warlike influence,
And that my stile of battailes must indite:
Assist me with some Marshall Eloquence,
That I may frame my hand and pen aright,
With words of Art and arteficiall phrase,
Of valiant Knights to sing th'eternall praise.
And if at my request thou dainst to list,
Or graunt the thing which I of thee do craue,
Yet for her sake that lovingly thee kist,
(Blacke Vulcans wife) and further fauour gaue;
Vouchsafe thy ayd my verse so to infuse,
That I therein fit tearmes and phrase may vse.
Els truth to say, so barren is my wit,
And void of Aureat liquord Eloquence,
That I confesse my selfe to be vnfit,
Or able to accomplish my pretence.
Helpe then God Mars for faire Bellonaes sake,
And of my worke vouchsafe protection take.
And thou sweet Clio with thy sisters deare,
Whose chiefe aboad is on Pernassus hill
By Helicon, the fountaine faire and cleare,
Lend me thine ayd, and giue to me some skill,
That loftie verse by stately tearmes may yeild
To valiant Knights their honour due in field.
Assist herein likewise, ift be thy will
Calliope, (to Orpheus mother deare,
Who insweet musicke so exceld for skill,
That with the sound of harpe as doth appeare,
He pleasd the monster Cerberus so well,
That he had leaue to enter into hell,
To fetch his loue out of th'infernall lake,
Where Pluto held her for his owne sweet-hart,
But with the musicke he to them did make,
He graunted she with him should thence depart.)
And with the dew of thy sweet liquor wet
My tongue so harsh, and in right tune it set.
For thou art sayd of Rethoricke to beare
The onely praise, and patronesse for skill,
And eke of musicke pleasant to the eare,
Thou canst direct each instrument at will:
Deny not then (sweet Muse) thy ayd to mee,
And I shall rest beholding vnto thee.
Els will the clowds of ignorance enclose
And round incampe my wits that are so bare,
And cause the rude (to Poets vtter foes)
To laugh at me: But such as learned are
I will intreat what faults soere they find
To winke thereat, and keepe them in their mind.
And if that in my verses I haue err'd,
(As no man but may erre what ere he be)
I must confesse I never yet deseru'd
To haue the praise for excellent Poetrie.
For God he knowes when I this worke began,
I did it not for praise of any man.
But for to please the humor and the hest
Of my good Lord and Princely Patron,
Who dained not to me to make request
To write the same, least that obliuson
By tract of time, and times swift passing by,
Such valiant acts should cause obscur'd to lie.
As also cause his Princely high degree,
Provokes him study ancient Histories,
Whereas in Myrrour be may plainely see
How valiant Knights haue won the masteries
In battailes fierce, by prowesse and by might,
To run like race, and proue a worthy knight.
And as they sought to clime to honors seat,
So doth my Lord seeke therein to excell,
That as his name, so may his fame be great,
And thereby likewise Idlenesse expell.
For so he doth to vertue bend his mind,
That hard it is his equall now to find.
To write his Princely vertues, and declare
His valor, high renowne, and Maiestie,
His braue exploits, & Marshall acts that are
Most rare, and worthy his great dignitie,
My barren head cannot devise by wit
T'extoll his fame with words & phrases fit.
This mighty Prince whom I so much cōmend,
(Yet not so much as well deserues his fame.)
By royall blood doth li [...]ally descend
From Henrie king of Englād forth by name
His eldest Son, & heire vnto the Crowne,
And by his vertues Prince of high renowne.
(For by the graft the fruit men easly know)
Excreasing th'honour of his pedigree:
His name Lord Henrie as our stories show,
And by his title Prince of Wales is hee:
Who with good right, his father being dead,
Shal weare the Crown of Brittain on his head.
This mighty Prince hath made me vndertake
To write the siege of Troy the ancient towne,
And of their warres a true discourse to make
From point to point, as Guydo sets it down:
Who long since wrot the same in latin verse,
Which in the English now I will rehearse.
The time when first I tooke the same in hand,
To say the truth was in the fourteenth yeare
Of famous Henrie King of England
The Fourth by [...]ne, my Princes Father deare.
When Phoebus shew'd in altitude to be,
Fine three times told, and foure and one degree.
When he did in his Chariot downe descend
With golden streames into the Ocean strand
To bath his steeds, and light to others l [...]nd,
That farre remote inhabite th'Indian land▪
Where when our Summer is clean [...] past and gon,
Their spring beg [...]s but newly to come on.
And when Lucina faire with paler light
Began in cold October to arise.
(T'enhase the darkenes of the winters night,
And glistring starres appeard in christall skies:)
And then was in the signe of Scorpion,
And Hesperus then westward running downe,
His course to hasten gainst tomorrow bright,
As Lucifer, that driues darke clouds away,
Is sayd to bee the messenger of light,
And shineth at the dawning of the day:
When Phoebus early shoes his glistring face,
Ascending from Proserpins obscure place,
Where Pluto sits environed about
With furies of the fowle infernall Lake.
In this yeare, moneth, and time as it fell out,
This Historie I first in hand did take.
And of the Troyan wars the truth vntwind,
As in my ancient Author I it find.
For if no Authors had the truth set downe
In written Bookes, of things that are forepast,
Forget fulnes would soone haue trodden downe
Each worthy act, and cleane extinct at last.
Which Serpent never ceaseth to assaile
The world, to cause all truth on earth to faile.
And had no ancient Histories been found,
But all things vnto memorie were left;
Truth surely then would soone be layd in ground,
And men of knowledge vtterly bereft.
But God intending Sathan to prevent,
That hath foreseene, and writers alwaies sent
From age to age, still to renew the same,
That truth might alwaies spring and come to light,
And thereby win an everlasting name,
Against the which sowle envy still doth fight.
But famous Clarkes not ceasing truth to show,
By writing leaue the same to vs to know.
Els time with syth, would soone cut downe the grasse,
And re [...]ening death extirpe the root and all,
And nothing whatsoere on earth did passe
Should haue record, the same to mind to call.
Nor honor due to valiant Knights be read,
But it with them should rest, and lie as dead.
And so not onely name, but fame would die,
And wholy be defaced out of mind.
But Histories explain the same to th'eie,
As daylie by experience we may find.
Nere ceasing spight of envy to vnfold
The truth of all which may not be controld.
Therein we see of high and low estate,
The life and acts as it were on a stage,
For writers that are wise in heart do hate
To speake vntruth, or flatter any age.
For tyrauts being dead they will not feare
To write and shew their follies as they were.
And t'yeild each man as he shall well deserue
Be't good or bad, and therefore it i [...] best,
For every one that credit will preserue,
In life to vertue cleaue, and vice detest:
For after death know this and marke it well,
Clarkes will not spare the truth of them to tell.
For such vnpartiall dealing in their daies,
Great Princes in them tooke no small delight
For truely blasing forth their laud & praise,
Their high renown, their power & their might
Their knightly acts, their victories, & fame,
Eternally with glory of their name.
For they still sought to shun the sisters three,
Fraud, Negligence, and Sloth, that none might doubt
Ought was forgot, or more p [...]t in to bee,
Then truth requird, and as the truth fell out.
Els worthy acts were wholy done in vaine,
And those that honour sought had lost their paine.
And time by length of yeares and ages past,
Would haue defaced name and honor cleane
Of Conquerors, (for what can ever last)
Vnlesse record thereof were to be seene:
Which Clarkes (for which they merit and deserue
Continuall praise,) haue sought still to preserue.
For Histories and Bookes are sayd to bee
The keyes of learning, memory, and skill,
In them, and by them all men plainely see,
What, hath forepast, and what is good, or ill:
Witnesse the fall of Thebes the ancient Towne,
In Stacies Booke for truth at large set downe.
Where you may read and see how Polinece
Was nere content with Etocles a day,
Nor would like louing Brother liue in peace,
Till Thebes Towne was brought vnto decay.
And h [...]w Tedeus through that mortall ctrife,
And by dissention was bereft of life▪
How Oedipus with sorrow, griefe, and woe,
Did loose his eies so bitterly he wept,
And how the Smo [...]kes devided were i [...] two,
Of fiers made, when funerall feasts was kept,
Which fier brothers hatred did engender,
And death to both for iust reward did render.
Mine author Guydo in like sort doth show
(As by his Booke most plainely it appeares)
Of all the Troian Princes overthrow,
While Greeks besieg'd the towne so many yeares:
In very truth, and though tis long since past,
No time, nor age, the storie hath defast.
For maugre them, you may it still behold
In Bookes set downe most plainely to mens eies,
For truth by lying will not be controld,
Though enviously some seeke it to disguise:
Transforming all the substance of the matter
By fayned tales, dissembling to flatter
As Homer did, who truth would seeme to show,
Yet covertly did seeke the same to hide,
And by vntruth which he full well did know,
With Artificiall words doth truth deride:
Who seeming Greecians honour to defend,
Doth faine the Gods from heaven to descend
In shape of men, and openly were knowne
To helpe the Greeks against the Troians fight,
And many such vntruths by him are showne
In sugred words, and phrases for delight:
Pretending so his malice for to hide,
For falsehood seekes in darkenes to abide.
The cause why he the Greeks so smothly prais'd,
Was for that he vnto them was allide,
And therefore sought their glory to haue rais'd.
But such as loue the truth cannot abide
Gainst conscience for to praise or discommend,
Where no desert their action may defind.
But Cupid (as the Poets faine) is blind,
And giues his doome more after lust, then law:
So Sicophants as we by proofe doe find
Commend and praise the men they never saw,
By false report extolling them to skie,
Of whom in heart they know full well they lie:
Whereby such men as never merit fa [...]e
But iust disgrace, are highly magnified:
And they contrary that deserue good name,
Are either not remembred or beli'd:
For favor now doth beare so great a s [...]ay,
That true desert is driven cleane away.
Ovidius Naso likewise hath devis [...]
A Booke in verse, of Troian [...]s to show,
Part true, part false, but in such sort disguisd,
That who so reads it, can by no meanes know
Which way to sound the deapth of his intent,
His phraise therein's so mis [...]ically bent.
Like story also Virgill doth declare,
When of Aeneas tra [...]les he doth write,
Where truth to tell in part he doth not spare,
Although s [...] time he seemth to delight
In Homers course, with Rethoricke to glose,
And truth with falsehood often to compose.
Dares an ancient Author first was found,
And Ditus eke of Troian warres to write,
Who both set down the truth & perfect groūd,
As being there, and did behold the fight.
And thogh their books in seuerall language be,
Yet they are knowen in all things to agree.
The Books in time to Athens being brought,
Salustius cousen, one Cornelius,
By diligent enquirie out them sought;
And being of a mind industrious,
Translated them with great & earnest care
In each respect, as th' Authors doth declare.
His only fault was, that he did not write
The story full at large as he it found,
But [...]ure he did in breuity delight;
Els would he not haue spar'd to shew the groūd
And first beginning of that mortall strife,
Which cost so many thousand men their life.
And how the Greeks came both by sea & lād
The nūber of their [...]en, and of their ships,
The manner how they first did take in hand
To plant their siege, (all this he ouerskips.)
How envy was the root and cause of all
The mischiefe that on Troy at last did fall.
How many Kings and Princes thither went
In warlike wise to win them high renowne,
How they agreed all with one conscent
To see the full sub [...]er [...]i [...] of the Towne:
What armes they [...]are, what men they did retaine,
Who in the siege did longest there remaine.
How one the other Knightly did assaile,
How many valiant Princes lost their life:
How of t they met in field to giue battaile:
How hatred still increast and bred new strife:
Nor of their deaths [...]e [...]iteth not the yeare:
Thus much he leaueth out as doth appeare.
Which lately causd an Author to arise,
Whose truth in writing is not to be bla [...]'d,
That tooke in hand this st [...]i [...] i [...] such wise,
As that of Ditus and of Dares nam'd:
He hath not sought one sentence to neglect,
Nor yet in ought the meaning to reiect.
This Clarkethat wrote so true, so iust, so well,
Was Guydo of Columpna by his name,
Who in sweet Rethoricke did so much excell,
That he enricht his storie with the same:
So Eloquently hath he set it downe,
That he deserueth praise and high renowne.
For which in heart and voice I will not stay,
To giue him praise and commendation due,
And with applause in truth, and rightly say,
He was the flower most certainely and true,
Of all that sought this storie to compile,
For wit, and soveraignty of stile.
Whose treces as I can I will obserue,
If God vouchsafe me time and grace to do't,
And graunt my labour may of him deserue
The Princely praise that first provokt me to't:
Beseeching all that see't, with heart & mind
Not spare to speake, if any fault they find.
And with good will I shall amend the same,
(For many eies may see much more then one.)
Correct then freely where you find the blame,
But find not fault whereas deserueth none.
And so in hope I shall your favours win,
With your support this storie ile begin.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF HECTOR.
THE FIRST BOOKE.

CHAP. 1.

I How Peleus King of Thessalie, lost his people, men, women, and Children, by diuine punishment; and after by prayer vnto the Gods, obtained others.

IN Thessalie King Peleus once did raigne,
For vertue held a Prince of worthy fame,
Whose subiects as mine Author doth explaine,
Were Myrmidons so called by their name.
Of whose beginning Ouid doth rehearse,
The History at large in Latine verse.
And saith, that in that Countrie downe did fall
So furious a tempest from the skie,
That it consum'd the people great and small,
And left not one, but all di'de sodainlie,
Except the King, who desolate alone,
Went wandring in the woods, to make his mone.
Where for a time he walked to and fro,
Lamenting sore in mind his dolefull state,
And to himselfe complaining of his woe,
Began to curse his hard and cruell fate:
Till in the wood he chanst to spie a tree,
For height and thicknesse huge of quantity.
Which at the foot a hole had in the ground,
From whence of Ants great quantitie did creepe,
Which when this Prince so desolate had found,
He fel [...] vpon his knees and sore did weepe:
And Paynim-like his prayer gan to make,
To moue the Gods some pittie on him take.
By miracle to shew their power as then
In transformation of those Ants so little,
Into the right and perfect shape of men,
Therewith againe his Land to fill with people:
And so his poore distressed case to tender,
For which he vow'd continuall thanks to render.
Which his request as Ouid setteth downe,
With pitty mou'd God Inpiter did heare,
And by a sodaine transmutation,
The Ants did cause in forme of men t'appeare:
Who presently arising on their feet,
With all speed went their famous Prince to meet.
Which people by their strength and hardinesse,
The Storie saith, obtained lofty fame,
And anciently for their great worthines,
As first I said, Myrmido [...]s had to name:
Who for their great fore-sight in euery thing,
The Poet fain'd them from those Ants to spring.
(For as the Ant in Summers heat by care,
Prouides his food in Winter time to liue,
This people so their labour did not spare,
Industriously their bodies to relie [...]e.
In Peace and Warre prouiding for their need,
As all men should, the better for to speed.
For if that care and labour we neglect,
Our food and clothes in time for to prouide,
We may perchance our follie so derect,
That men our [...]loath will▪ openly deride:)
But to affirme this fable to be true,
Therein I leaue the iudgement vnto you.
And of King Peleus further will declare,
Who as mine Author saith, did take to wife
One Thetides of shape and beauty rare,
And liu'd with her a long and happie life:
From whome descended by paternall right,
Achilles while he liu'd, a valiant Knight.
(For mong the Greeks none might compare with him,
For valour, high renowne, and chiualrie,
He would so boldly venture life and lim,
Which caus'd the Troians feele his cruelty
Before the Towne, which if you list to heare,
Read on this Booke, and there it will appeare.)
And though that Peleus did the Scepter hold,
Yet was his elder Brother liuing still,
Whose name was Aeson, but of yeares so old,
That vnto loue and lust he had no will:
And was so feeble and decayd in wit,
That for to rule the land he was vnfit.
His memorie as then became so bad,
And sences all from him were cleane bereft;
Who when he saw age him depriued had▪
Of meanes to rule the Land, the Crowne he left,
And regall state which he so long had held,
Vnto his Brother, in his stead to weld.

CHAP. II.

¶ How King Aeson by reason of his age would no longer rule in the Kingdome of Thessalie: but caused his Brother Peleus to be crowned in his stead.

YOu heard that when King Aeson did perceiue
His sences, eyes, and all his strength decay,
Expecting death would shortly him bereaue
Of life and all, he did no time delay,
To cause his Brother Peleus to be crownd,
As his next Heire then liuing to be found.
And made him King of Thessalie by name,
(For of his body was no jssue left
When he was dead, for to enjoy the same:)
And so of Princely power cleane bereft;
He liu'd a quiet solitarie life
In peace and rest, cleane voyd of care and strife.
But as some Authors in their Bookes explaine,
The Gods such grace to Aeson did jmpart,
That they restor'd him to his youth againe
By false enchantment, and by deuilish Art
Of charmes devised by Medeas skill,
That could command foule spirits at her will.
For shee compos'd a drinke (as it was found,)
By magicall confections in such wise,
That casting it vpon a barren ground,
Both buds and blossomes presently would rise
As fresh and greene as possible might bee,
Or any man in pleasant spring could see.
The which for that it semeth strange and rare:
And truth to say impossible like wise,
I will it vnto you at large declare,
And how she did her diu [...]lish charmes devise:
As Ovid doth set downe the same to vs
With in his booke, the which he saith was thus:
Medea who by Art and skill knew well,
What hearbs would serue t'effect so strange a thing▪
For that she did in Magicke much excéll,
Desiring it with speed to passe to bring,
That she might praise obtaine; made no delay,
But presently alone did goe her way
Abroad into the fields to seeke for some,
Such as she lik▪t, whereof when she had sped,
And with the same into a place did come,
Which she as then of purpose halowed:
She made two Altars all of Tur [...]e, of which,
One vnto triple Hecate the witch,
Th'other vnto youth was consecrate.
And hauing couered them in decent wise,
With Vervi [...] and with shrubs, such as she gat
There in the fields, to offer sacrifice:
She cut the throats of two black Rammes, whose blood
Mixt with a bowle of pure white milke and good▪
And with as much sweet hony clarified,
She put into two pits of purpose made
Within the ground, and after that she cryed,
And certaine mumbling prayers softly sayd
To Pluto and his Wife, the Lords of hell,
And all the Elfes and Gods on earth that dwell.
To spare old Aesons life a little space,
And not in hast his wearied lims depriue
Of his most aged soule, and t'giue him grace
To hold the same: That he might longer liue.
Whom when she had in that sort long besought▪
She wild that Aesons corps shold forth be brought
To her. Whereas with certaine carmes she said,
She cast him straight into a slumber deepe;
And then before the Altar he was layd
Vpon the hearbs, as dead; but yet a sleepe.
Which done, with haire disperst about her head,
The Altars she devoutly compassed.
And dipping sticks within the pits of blood,
She kindled them vpon the Altars twaine,
Betwixt the which at that same time she stood▪
And then vnto her purpose to attaine,
She did with Brimstone, fire, and water pure,
Thrise purge old Aesons corps that slept full sure.
Meane time the medecine boyld within a pan
Of Brasse, which she of purpose had broght thither,
Which at that time to gather froth began,
Where roots, seeds, flowers, and leaues she sod toge­ther.
(Which for that strāge confectiō she thoght best)
With pretious stones that came out of the East.
And grauell fine that in the West she had.
And dew that fell vpon a Monday night.
With flesh and feathers of a wicked jade
A filthy witch, (that had her sole delight
In shape of Owle by night, to flie and slay
Young children, or to beare them cleane away▪
And changlings in their cradles vs'd to leaue,)
The singles of a greedy Wolfe (that can
As some report, himselfe of shape bereaue,
And when he list take on him forme of man.)
The slimes of water-snailes the which she found,
With labour great within the Indian ground.
The liuer of a Hart that liues so long.
And of a Crow that loathsome carrion beast,
(The which by cause the nature was so strong,
Had liued then Nine hundred yeares at least▪)
The head and bill: of all which when she had,
An admirable composition made.
To lengthen Aesons aged yeares withall,
A withered bough (the which not long before
Downe from an Oliue tree did chance to fall,)
In hand she tooke, and with the same did pore,
And stir the liquor till the sticke waxe greene,
And sodainly both leaues and buds were seene
To spring thereon, & straight did berrie [...] beare.
And where the fire the skum thereof did throw
Vpon the earth, where it had drop [...], euen there▪
The ground began as fresh and green to show,
As it in summer did, and flowers to rise
Out of the same. Wh [...]h wh [...]n Medea spies,
She tooke a knife, and with a courage stout
Did cut old Aesons throat, where presently
His aged bloud did all come gushing out,
And with the boy ling iuce did new supply,
Which when to Aesons corps she had powr'd in,
His haire that was so gray did straight begin
To turne, and wax as blacke as any coale,
His leane pale, withered skin grew faire and fresh,
The wrinckles in his face, and euery hole
Therein, were fild with yong and lusty fresh,
His limbs waxt lith, and all his ioynts did grow
So supple that he plainly then did show
To be a man of yong and youthfull yeares.
At which when to his sences Aeson came,
He was abasht, but casting off all feares,
He knew at forty yeares he was the same.
And as backe from old age to youth he drew,
A youthfull spirit did in his heart renew.
By which so strange deuise she did restore
King Aeson vnto strength and former youth;
With wit and reason as he had before,
In each respect as much (if it be truth,
But be it true, or false, I haue not spar'd,
To write it as the story hath declar'd.)
And after on his wife he did beget
A valiant Sonne, that Iason had to name▪
In whose creation nature did not let
To shew hir skill, and to incurre no blame:
For neuer man mord perfectly was form'd▪
Nor with more graces inwardly ado [...]n'd▪
If I should striue here to describe at will,
His strength, his beauty, and his comlinesse,
His good behauiour, and his perfect skill,
His wisedome, vertue, and his gentlenes:
To all and euery one both high and low,
Like as mine Author plainly doth it show▪
My art and wit therein would be to little.
His qualities so pleased mens desire,
That he obtained praise of all the people,
For young and old each one did him admire▪
Iudge then what he would proue in elder yeares,
That in his childhood such a one appeares.
But while he was of age and stature small,
And far vnfit as then to rule the Land,
His Vnckle Peleus by consent of all,
Still held the Crowne and Scepter in his hand▪
From whom in ought he neuer seem'd to vary,
Nor his prcepts at any time contrary.
So diligent was he in euery thing,
To please and serue his Vnckle at a becke;
(As is the child held vnder tutors wing,
And seareth to incurre his Maisters checke:)
In heart no [...] outward shew whats'ere him toucht,
He neuer did repine, nor at it grutcht.
And though his Vncle held his heritage,
And rul'd his Princely Scepter at his will;
While he remained still in tender age,
Yet was he neuer mooued vnto ill:
Nor once of him a bad conceite to haue,
In any wise his honour to depraue.
But Peleus he contrarie mind did beare,
And [...]ullie had his heart to enuie bent;
Dissembling that in face and outward cheare,
Which inwardly was whollie his intent:
(Like Adder lurking closely in the grasse,
To sting all those that throgh the same doth passe.)
His heart and tongue contrary each to other.
For with pretence of faire and friendly show,
He seem'd to loue the Son of his deare Brother,
When inwardly his heart did ouerflow
With malice, though not outwardly espy'd,
So cunningly he did his malice hide.
For no man could by any meanes per [...] [...]au [...],
That he to Iason bare an enuinous eie;
(No cause he had) but feare he should bereaue
Him of his Crowne, and regall dignitie:
And at the time of riper yeares obtaine,
The right succession of his fathers raigne.
Which he as then vnjustly occupied,
And daily did devise how that he might,
On Iason whome in heart he envied,
Worke his pretended malice and despight:
Which made him oft build Castles in the aire,
Like one that liu'd in feare and great despaire.
Still compasing some way or meanes to find
T'intrap, and take his Nephew in a snare;
Which secretly [...]e kept still hid in mind,
Yet ceased not his engins to prepare:
(Like Sathan cuery minute▪ day, and hower,
Deuising how mans soule he may deuour.)
And as the Sun shines hot when raine is past,
So did his enuie burne more feruently;
And vext him sore till he deuis'd at last
To execute his wilfull trechery.
A Lambe in shew, a Lyon in his heart,
Fell (Tiger like) to play a double part.
A sugred face but false and bitter mind,
None might of him conceaue suspition;
That he should to his Nephew be vnkind,
And priuily worke his destruction:
Pretending loue but hatred was the end,
Description true of foule dissembling frend.
His bad intent disclosed might not be,
It was so well conceal'd within his heart;
(So is all close and priuy enmity,)
And yet although he playd so well his part:
His enuy still encreasing more and more▪
Did inwardly torment and vexe him sore.
Attending time t'effect and bring about,
That which he did in heart so much desire;
And so to be cleane freed from care and doubt,
(The only ioy that enuy doth require:)
But Iason he did not conceaue in mind,
His Vncle would vnto him proue vnkind.
Their thoughts were cleane contrary in effect.
The Cousin simply seeking Vncles good;
The Vncle he all friendship doth reiect,
Deuifing how to shead his Nephews blood.
Pro [...]ok't by malice and desire of gaine,
The roots of mischiefe, sorrow, woe, and paine.
For many Realmes and Cities old do feele
The poyson of the serpent Avarice;
But let all those that cruelly will deale,
Learne this of me, and thinke it good aduic [...]
That what so euer mischiefe they intend,
It's sweet at first, but bitter in the end.
And though the world doth flatter for a while,
Let not the enu [...]ous man be proud withall;
For he that thinks another to beguile,
Perhaps may chance in selfe same pit to fall.
But let vs enuy leaue as fiend of hell,
And of King Peleus further to you tell.
Who all this while imagined and sought
Meanes how he might attaine vnto his will;
Till at the last strang newes to him was brought▪
Which did his heart with admiration fill:
And thereby taking some occasion,
He purposed in mind to worke thereon.
The newes which at that time vnto him came,
(Though strange it were to heare & to be told;)
Was, that in Colchos js [...]e there was a Ramme
Which bare a fleece of pure and finest gold:
And for it was so rich esteem'd to bee,
They kept it close that no man might it see▪
Within that Isle a King of worthy fame,
Long had remain'd, and yet therein did dwell,
Well stricken in yeares, and Oeta had to name,
Who in his daies (as antient Authors tell)
Most noble acts archieued had and done,
Wherby much honor to himselfe he wonne.
His Pedigree (as Poets list to faine)
Doth shew he was the Sonne of Phebus bright,
Of whom, they say, he did the grace obtaine
For to become a braue and valiant Knight.
Let this suffice his Ancestor to know,
And of the Ram now will I further show;
That to be kept where no man should it find,
By Magicke art, was shut within a tower,
Whereas two Bulls of fierce and sauage kind,
With Brasen feet attended day and hower
To gard the place▪ that no man might go neere,
Out of their mouths still casting flames of fier.
Their eyes like burning fournace shining bright,
From whence great streams of lightning seem'd to▪ start,
So terrible that at the very sight,
It stroke a feare and terror to the heart
Of those that boldly ventur'd to assay,
To winne the golden Ram and bear't away.
For who so would that conquest take in hand,
Must first of all those furious Buls assaile▪
And both of them by force & strength withstand,
(Else could he by no meanes therein preuaile:)
And make them came and gentle as a Cow,
And being yok't, force thē the ground to plow.
That done, he must a second combat make,
As dangerous and fearfull as the first,
The which to thinke vpon might cause him quake,
Yet must he not refuse to doe his woo [...]st
Against a Serpent [...]gly, huge, and fell,
Much like a fiend that commeth out of hell.
Which had so [...]oule and v [...]nomous a breath,
That it infected all the aire about,
And who so ere it fel [...] was sure of death,
All, were he ne're sovaliant, strong, or stout▪
With scales vpon his backe as hard as steele,
That blow of sword or Lance he could not feele.
And to conclude, he that did vndertake
That enterprise, to bring vnto an end,
Ere he began a full account must make
Of cruell death▪ vnlesse himselfe defend,
And well resist he could in open field
That monster, and by force make him to y [...]eld.
Which done, and so the Serpent being dead,
The story sayth, it was ordain'd by law,
That he that did it slay should take the head,
And all the teeth out of the mouth must draw,
And after cast and sow them in the field,
The which the furious Buls before had tild.
Whereas vpon a sodaine men beheld,
Out of the ground a troope of Knights arise,
And euery one well arm'd with speare and shield,
Who valiantly in braue and war-like wise
Stayd not, but met most furiously together,
And fiercely kild & beat downe each th'other.
And in that sort dide presently againe,
In selfe same place where first they gan to liue;
For so the fatall furies did ordaine,
And to each one his desteny did giue:
That none should longer life on earth possesse,
But all together die in that distresse.
By this same way so strange and perillous,
Who so would seeke the Ram of gold to gaine,
And with the same returne victorious,
He must aduenture with no little paine:
And take his chance although t▪were nere so bad,
For remedy therein might not be had.
For by a law the King did so ordaine,
That who so ere aduentu [...]'d to assay;
To proue his force in hope the same t'obtaine,
Might not turne backe, nor take another way:
But forth must goe, & though his heart did faile,
His cowardise should him no whit preuaile.
Some menaffirme (which of this Ram entreat)
That by the same was meant great store of gold;
Which Oeta valiantly in time did get,
And by inchantment did so closely hold,
That who so euer sought to winne the same,
Must first begin those Monsters fierce to came.
The fame whereof did spread both far & neare,
Which made full many ventrously desire,
To winne the same, although it cost them deare,
(For gold doth set a greedy mind o [...]fi [...])
Through vaine report their honou [...] to ad [...]ance,
Respecting not what vnto them might chance.
For neither wit nor hardines of armes,
In that pursuit could any wh [...] av [...]
Gainst such accurst and fowle infernall charmes,
Which made full many Knights therein to faile:
But he that sets his mind on greedy gaine,
To haue his will regards not death▪ nor paine.
This news so brought to Peleus pleas'd him well,
Intending secret vse thereof to make,
And of his hidden malice (truth to tell)
The hard and heauy burthen off to shake.
For he the reby did sodainly surmise,
Some bad pretence his Nephew to surprise.
For by that meanes, he had a hope to moue
Young Iason valiantly to vndertake
The conquest of the golden Ramme to proue,
And presently a voyage thither make,
Supposing he nere should returne again,
And he thereby be easde of inward paine.
Concluding thus, he doth pretend a show
Of outward ioye, yet inwardly did hide
The treason of his heart, that none might know
What mischiefe he full smoothly did prouide.
Still spying time conuenient and fit,
In painted shew his malice out to spit.
With words of Art and eloquence refin'd,
Perswading men he meant nought else but good,
As knowing well his Nephews willing mind,
In such a cause to shead his dearest blood:
And for to bring his purpose to effect,
He doth no longer time therein neglect.
But straight throughout the land of Thessalie,
Commission sends forth presently to call
His noble Peeres and all his Baronny,
Commanding them what euer might befall,
Without delay t'assemble and to meet
At Eagee Towne, in parliament to sit
For three whole daies. Where with a fained face,
And sugred words he doth vnfold his mind,
And openly before them in the place,
Makes shew to be most louing and most kind
To Iason, who as then he did commend,
That none might deeme he would his death pre­tend.
And said, the cause that mou'd him to the same,
As also that assembly there to make,
Was specially t'aduance his Nephews name,
If so he would that voyage vndertake:
And then at large declar'd it in such wise,
That no man once his treason could surmise.
With countenance so glad, and ioyfull show
Of fained faith as after did appeare,
That they th [...] were in presence could not know,
But that he lou'd his Cousin very deare:
For which they all to praise him do begin,
Full little knowing his intent within.
Which hauing done, with faire & smiling cheare,
He did behold Prince Iason in the face,
And spake to him that euery man might heare,
When first he had causde silence in the place.
Such words as might seeme outwardly to show,
His heart with ioy did inwardly ore-flow.

CHAP. III.

¶ How King Peleus fearing to be deposed by his Nephew Iason, a worthy and valiant young Knight, coun­selled him to vndertake the perillous and most in­uincible conquest of the Golden fleece at Colchos, who was content to grant to his Vncles desire.

DEare Cousin harke what I to thee shall say,
And thinke not that I slatter, lie, or faine,
And see thou beare it well in mind away,
For wholesome counsell neuer comes in vaine:
And who so ere doth seeme it to reiect,
The prouerbe saith, his folly doth detect.
When as I thinke on thee I still do find,
Such sudden ioy euen at my very heart,
That whatsoeuer sorrow's in my mind,
It cannot choose but presently depart:
And specially when as I do remember,
Thy gifts so rare in this thy age so tender.
For (truth to say) thou wholy art enclind
To vertue, honour, curtesie, and fame,
So that on whether side so ere I winde,
My onely ioy's to thinke vpon the same,
And hold my selfe with all my whole estate,
For thy cause onely to be fortunate.
That by thy meanes am like to liue in rest,
And be aduanc't to honour and renowne,
(So that all vice in heart thou dost derest)
Whose valour will so much aduance our Crowne,
That it not onely shall the same amend,
But (which is more) encrease, and it defend
Against all those that seeke with vs to striue,
Maliciously our state to ouerthrow,
And such as cause new quarrels to arriue,
Through pride within their hea [...]s shall ouerflow,
This countries peace to alter and deface
Our glory, if they may with foule disgrace.
Who to withstand thou art our onely wall,
Our mighty shield, and our protection,
So that whatsoere vnto vs doth befall,
Can vs not hurt in mine opinion.
Such trust I doe repose in thy foresight,
Thy wit, thy prudence, and thy Princely might.
Which vnto thy great honour and renowne,
Reported are almost the world throughout:
For that thy fame in euery land and towne
Is knowne, and scene with wings to flie about;
Which makes me neither day nor howre cease
To find & seeke out meanes the same t'encrease.
For sith that thine, mine honour doth augment,
I can no better doe then seeke to rayse
Thy worthie fame with all my whole intent,
That thou maist haue thy well deserved prayse.
Which my desire to tell thee without fayle,
Proceeds of loue, and doth me so assayle,
That my insatiate mind can take no rest,
Till I aduance thine honour to the skie,
Which as I hope shall turne vnto the best.
This purposing, I did my selfe applie
To find the meanes t'effect my long desire,
And bring to passe the thing which I require.
At last it was my chance to vnderstand
This strange adventure of the golden fleece:
Which if thou dar'st vouchsafe to take in hand
With courage bold (thine honour to encrease,)
And that thou maist returne with victorie,
And so thy name for euer magnifie;
I shall esteeme my selfe [...]oue others blest,
And this my Realme (when others shall it heare)
Be sure to liue in peace and quiet rest▪
For by thy valor great men will vs feare.
Of Knighthood then, I pray thee grant to mee,
This just request, and I will promise thee
Vpon the faith and honour of a King,
That whatsoere is requisite to haue,
I will provide the call and euery thing,
Both Men and Armes as inuch as thou wilt craue.
Or any other necessarie thing
That needfull is, the sameto passe to bring.
And vnto thee a further promise make,
That if with cheerefull hear [...] thou goest about,
This enterprise with courage [...] vndertake,
Thou shalt not need to feare not stand in doubt,
Whensoeuer it shalbe my chance to die,
To we [...] the Royall Crowne of Thessalie.
Let courage therefore enter in thy mind,
And thinke thy fame hereby shalbe extold:
For he that shrinks for euery blast of wind,
In honours Booke shall neuer be intold.
Speake freely then, and see thou doe not spare,
Thy full intent and meaning to declare.
When Iason did King Peleus mind perceiue,
With joyfull heart consent thereto he did,
Not once so wise his treason to conceiue,
Nor that in sugred words lay poyson hid,
Nor yet that hony sweet was mixt with gall,
To be a potion to deceiue withall.
The outward glose so cunningly was laid,
That poyson closely hid, could not appeare.
Prince Iason thought all true that he had said,
For he suppos'd the King of conscience cleare
From mischiefe, falsehood, and from bad intent,
Or that his mind to villany was bent.
With speed therefore he did an answere make
In few and pithy words, and did declare,
He was content that voyage t'vndertake,
And that no paine nor labor he would spare,
His Vncles mind in all things to fulfill,
With all his heart, his power, and his skill.
Wherewith such joy possest King Peleus heart,
That much it were to tell or to declare.
And that he might the sooner thence depart,
He did all things in readines prepare,
Appointing many Knights with him to goe,
To honour him the more in outward show.
But for because that Colchos so did stand
Within the Sea, which did enclose it round,
That for to travell vnto it by land,
There could no way by any meanes be found.
The King an order presently did take,
That Argos should a ship of purpose make.
(Who as some Auchors say, did first invent
The Art to Sayle by Sea, and tooke in hand
To make a Ship the first that euer went
Vpon the Seas, to sayle from land to land.
And Argos [...] the same, as Guydoes booke
Declares at large, who list therein to looke.)
Which Ship in all points rigd and well set out,
Attending wind did in the harbourlie,
Where many Knights with courages most stout,
Prepard themselues their fortunes then to trie,
With willing minds and ioyfull hearts to ayd
Prince Iason: Who therewith was well apayd.
Among the which stout Hercules was one,
For courage and for strength a peereles Knight,
Whose mother was the faire Alcumenon,
In whom God Iupiter did so delight,
That in Amphitreons shape down from the skie
He did descend on earth, with her to lie.
And did on her stout Hercules beget,
Who in his time for valour did exceed;
Whose labours all in Ouids Booke are set,
Whereto his praise at large you may there read:
The which for that they seem'd both strange & rare,
I will in briefe the same to you declare.
The first how with Busiris he did fight,
Whose custome was to wash the ground with blood
Of men, and did orethrow him by his might,
And after shewd his fierce and furious mood
Gainst Antheon, and kild him valiantly,
And by the hornes in Candie furiously
A cruell Bull by force to ground he threw.
That don, on strong King Auger he did set,
Whom after long and cruell fight he slew.
And on a mighty Spaniard did not let
To trie his force, though it reported were,
That in one shape he did three bodies beare.
And after went vnto the gates of Hell,
And there assaild the Triple headed hound
Cald Cerberus, most cruell fierce and fell,
Who there to keepe th'infernall gates was bound.
And hauing overcome him at the last,
Did tie him in an Iron chainefull fast,
And like a Dog did lead him in his hand.
And ventring with a stout and valiant mind,
The Harpies slew within th'Arcadian land.
And after that in Mayden wood did find
A flying Hart, which he did swiftly take,
And by his force a prise thereof did make.
And did the monstrous Centaurs overthrow.
And after kild the strong and cruell Snake
Of Lerna, which in peeces cut did grow
Together still, and double force did take.
And in the Thracian Land when he did see
The pampred Horses mangers fild to bee
With flesh of men, in such a rage he grew,
That after he their mangers downe had cast,
The Iades themselues in cruell wise he slew,
And to their Maister did the like at last.
The monstrous Giant Cacus he orecame
By Tiber. And to his eternall fame,
With stout and Valiant courage he assaild
A Lyon fierce and horrible to view't,
Against the which his force so much prevaild,
That after long and dangerous fight he slew't,
And from the backe thereof the skin did teare,
Which after for an Armour he did weare.
His valor also did so much excell,
That boldly he adventured to take
The golden Apples from the Dragon fell.
And after did a bloody combat make
Against a fiery Cat with vgly sight,
Which lost her life by his exceeding might,
And entring in Arcadia againe,
His fortune was to trie his mightie strength
Vppon a cruell Bore: which hauing slaine,
He travelled to Atlas Mount at length,
And there tis said vpon his shoulders square,
By extreame force the Firmament he bare.
But for because to mind I cannot call
His worthy deeds, each one as they were don,
In Ovids Booke there shall you find them all,
And how his fame throughout the world did run.
As also of the Pillars he did rayse,
Within the Straights to his eternall prayse.
(Which Alexander Prince of great renowne,
Who for to conquer all the world did mind,
As Guydo in his storie setteth downe,
With his great hoast went purposely to find.)
For that beyond the same there was no ground
Inhabited, that any man had found.
Nor Sea to Sayle, for then it was vnknown,
As beeing farre beyond the Ocean shore,
For neuer any man that way had gon,
Nor Saylor past that narrow place before,
Which now is cald the Straights of Gibraltarre,
Well knowen to euery Nation neere and farre.
Which Guydo saith stout Hercules did set,
And in that place erect vnto this end,
The passage of all men that way to let,
And while he liu'd did valiantly defend.
That none durst be so bold through it to pas,
So great a terror to the world he was.
This now shall serue his puissance to know,
Who in his time of honor bare the prise.
And now againe I will of Iason show,
Who joyfully in most couragious wise
Without delay did great provision make,
Of such things as he ment with him to take.
And so began his strange and hard adventure,
As Guydo saith about the very time,
When as the Sunne in Cancer gan to enter,
And parching Summer then was in his prime.
When silly shepheards were full blith and glad,
To shun the heat, and seeke the pleasant shade.
Whē Phebus beames most bright & cleare did shine
And cast their extreame heat vpon the ground
Directly downe, and straight as any line,
Whereby the aire exceeding hot was found,
And every place great store of Corne did yeild,
And men did mow the grasse in pleasant field,
And on the hills and valleys let it rest,
Till moisture cleane consum'd from it away.
And prittie Lasses with their cheerefull brest,
Did sing sweet notes at tossing of the hay,
At that same time Prince Iason did begin:
With joyfull heart his Ship to enter in.
And with him many a hardy grecian Knight
All furnished, in braue and Warlike wise,
With gilt and graven Armour for delight,
As then it was the manner and the guise.
And hoysing sayle, did lanch into the deepe,
With purpose their directest course to keepe
To Colchos ward. Philoctetes their guide,
Still caring loadstone in their sight to keepe.
Whose skill in that same Art both sarre and wide,
Was knowne to be most exccellent and deepe.
As also to prepare for stormes and wind
Before they came, which Saylers often find.
For no man more experience had then he▪
In both the Pooles, (which every one should know
That takes on him, or will a Sayler be)
And how the Poole Articas still doth show
And cleerely shine vnto vs in the night,
But Antarticus neuer comes in sight.
But Saylers that are provident and wise,
Doe thinke they haue experience [...]nough,
When as the starres shine cleerely in the skies
For to direct their course by Arthures Plough,
By which they make account they cannot faile
Of any coast, or place whereto they sayle:
With help of Loadstone and true compassing,
For Saylers that are expert, wise, and bold,
Whensoever they a voyage doe begin,
Their course directly by the starres to hold,
That Arthur [...] doe inviron round about,
Which circle for to put you out of dout
Is called Artophilx by his name.
Which vnto Saylers, (when it giveth light
If that they be acquainted with the same)
Sufficeth to direct them in the right.
And bring them safely to their journeis end,
If God from stormes and tempests them defend.
To tell you what the ancient Poets faine,
And in their Bookes of those two Pooles do wright
Although it seeme a fable false and vaine,
Yet will I set it downe for your delight,
With choice for to conceiue thereof in mind,
As you best liking of the same shall find.
They say Calixto and Arcadius
Hirsonne, were both in heaven stellefied,
Where they remaine as Starres most glorious,
And by devine permission deified.
For that the Goddesse Iuno did hir spie
When shee with great God Iupiter did lie.
For which she did hir to a Beare transforme,
And so she long remaind on earth below
And did her woofull state lament and morne,
Till Iupiter that favor did her show,
(As Ovids Metamorphosis doth tell)
To place hir in the skies, where she doth dwell
Among the starres, and there shee is instald,
To be a certaine signe at Sea to find▪
And by the name of Vrsa Mayor cal'd.
Her Sonne likewise a starre of selfe same kind,
Was oppositely set, and for his fame
Of Vrsa Minor beareth still the name.
Which fixed starres their Pilot knew so well,
(As being in that Art the most expert,
And did in Navigation so excell,
That he deseru'd great praise by due desert,)
That of his course he could not lightly faile,
If stormes and winds did not too much prevaile.
And when the greekes with trauell overprest,
Had long on Seas been tossed too and fro,
Desiring to relieue themselues and rest
Their wearied limmes, they sought on land to go,
And being cast vpon the Tr [...]i [...] soyle
They lande there to ease their wearied toyle.

CHAP. IIII.

¶ How Iason [...] [...]is Voyage to Co [...]chos, by fortune was cast vppon the c [...]st of Troy, where he were on Land to refresh himselfe, and his company.

THe Ship at anker by the Frigian coast,
Vntill the weather waxed cleare and faire,
The Greekes that had so long on Seas been tost
Went all on shoare, to walke and take the aire,
Glad to relieue their wearied lims of paine,
And after to returne to ship againe.
At Sy [...]eon [...] a haven hard by Troy
Where they did stay, and ment there to abide
Not hurting any Woman, Man, or Boy,
A day or two, attending time and tide,
To hoyse vp Sayle, and toward Colchos wend,
Where first to go they onely did pretend.
Not once jntending treason, hurt, or guile,
In any wise, nor troublesome to bee,
Vnto the countrey people all the while,
They staied there for their necessitee,
For that as long as on the shoare they lay,
They did nought els but sport thēselues, & play.
But Fortune that so swiftly turnes about,
Delighting men of pleasure to bereaue,
Was th'onely cause, (though causeles without (doubt)
To make the Troians falsely to conceiue,
The Grecians sodaine landing did pretend
Some mischiefe to their countrey in the end.
For by such bad and false suspition,
Most puissant Kings and Princes of great fame
Haue brought themselues vnto destruction,
And been the onely causes of their shame.
Let Troyes example for this time suffice,
Which first did breed vpon a bare surmise.
Which was the cause and chiefe occasion,
As in the ancient Historie is found,
Of that most famous Townes destruction,
Whose mightie walles were rais'd vnto the ground.
And many men, and many a worthy Knight
Did loose their liues in that most bloody fight.
And many Ladies proper fine and faire,
(Their Husbands, and their Children being dead)
Were heard lament their losse in great dispaire.
And Mayds in tender yeares by Grecians led
As slaues in bondage to their paine and griefe,
Did liue without all comfort or reliefe.
And onely for that fortune doth delight,
To shew her power, and her majestie,
And make it knowne vnto each mortall wight
In taking vengeance with such crueltie,
As on that famous Citie shee did shoe,
To their destruction, miserie, and woe.
Great pittie t'was that men of such estate,
Both on the valiant Greekes and Troian side,
For little cause should fall at such debate,
But truth it is and cannot be deni'd,
That envy having entred in the hart,
From thence doth not so readily depart.
For from a little graft doth oft arise
A faire and goodly tree, both huge and tall.
And he that climeth high may well surmise
If that he slip, to haue the greater fall.
And of a sparke full small wee often see,
And find that mighty fiers kindled bee.
And as a gnat that's but a little thing
Doth often cause the flesh of man to rise,
And swell abroad with pricking of his sting.
So many Princes mighty, strong, and wise,
And famous Townes at mortall warres do fall,
For slight or else for causes very small.
But if they had been well advis'd in time,
When sparks of envy first began to show,
And sought to quench and kill them in the prime
Full many Cities now that lie full low,
Would haue stood still and flourisht till this day,
Which hatefull malice brought vnto decay.
For when the flame of envy spreads so wide,
That it embraceth heart, and head, and vaine,
And makes them bnrne so hot on either side,
There is no meanes to remedy that paine,
But fowle and cruell murther, warre, and strife,
Bereaving each the other of their life.
And thus death is the [...]ine of enmetie.
And though the first beginning be but small,
Th'encrease doth breed to such extremitie,
That th'end bereaueth joy and pleasures all.
As vnto Troy wee read it so befell
Which makes me sigth the truth thereof to test.
That for small cause such vengeance shold proceed▪
Vnles it were by providence divine,
And heavenly wisedome secretly decreed:
Their fall should cause a greater joy in [...]ine.
For Troy destroy'd by such occasion,
And finally brought to destruction,
Was th'onely meanes that th'ancient Citie Roome,
Receav'd her first beginning from the race:
And offspring of Aeneas, that did come
From Troy, when Grecians banisht him the place.
Which Towne of Roome as Authors plainely say
Of all [...]he world, once bare the chiefest sway.
Troy likewise brought into so great distresse,
And vtter ouerthrow of ancient fame,
Was cause that many Cities did encrease,
And divers Countries first obtain'd their name.
For Troiaus wanting habitation,
By force did enter many a Nation.
And after long and weary toyle orepast,
Aeneas many Countries Sayling by
With all his ships, did chance t'ariue at last
Vppon the pleasant coast of Italy,
Who wan the same by conquest and by might;
And made himselfe the Prince thereof by right.
And after him his Sonne Ascanius,
Succeeded, and as lawfull heire he raign'd,
Who beeing dead, his sonne Prince Siluius
The Diadem of Italy obtaind:
Of whom did come by right discent and true,
Most worthy Brute that Albion did subdue.
Wwo having woon't by force from Giants fell
And conquest braue, did thereof change the name,
And cal'd it Britaine as our stories tell,
And was the first inhabited the same.
With this Aeneas from the Troian towne
Came Francus also Lord of great renowne.
Who afterward his honour to advance,
Did build a towne both stately faire and great
Cald Parris, whieh doth stand in midst of France,
The which he made his chiefe and Princely seat.
And first gaue name of France vnto that land,
Which he did win by strong and valiant hand.
And Anthenor a Lord of Troian race,
Began the towne of Venice to erect,
Where during life he made his resting place,
And Sicanus (in whom was no defect
Of Troian blood) as Cronicles doe tell
Won Cicile, and long time therein did dwell.
And after him a Prince of worthy fame,
His Valiant brother Siculus did raigne
Within that Ile, of whom it tooke the name
Of Cicile, as records therein explaine.
Aeneas hauing conquered Italy,
Did not himselfe therewith so satisfie.
But into Tuscan entred which he wan,
And in the Ile of Cicile to his praise,
The regall Towne of Naples first began,
Which flourisheth so much in these our dayes
With braue and welthie Marchant men of fame,
Who throgh their traffick great inricht the same.
And of the Greekes that Troy did helpe to spoyle,
King Diomed, who with most great desire,
When he had spent his time with paine and toyl [...]
Ten yeares in warre, and thought home to retire,
And there to liue and rest secure from harmes,
He found his men and countrey vp in armes.
With full intent his entry to withstand,
And to bereaue him of his Diadem
And princely state, thrust him out of his land,
Who being thereby brought to that extream,
Was forst for his reliefe as stories tell,
To seeke another Countrey where to dwell.
And entring in Callabria by strength,
He brought the Countrey to subiection,
And there did rule in peace, till at the length
Dame Fortune seeking his subversion,
By Cerces meanes his grecian Knights did change
Into the forme of Birds most rare and strange.
Which presently did flie into the aire,
(And euer since continew thereabout)
Their seathers shining bright and very faire,
And called are (to put you out of dou [...]t)
As wee in Isydore the same may read
Among the Greekes the Birds of Diomede.
But as some Authors list hereof to wright,
They say this Metamorphosis was don
By Venus in her malice to that Knight,
Because against Aeneas hir deare Son
Feirce Diomede did cast a cruell dart,
As they too fought to strike him to the h [...]rt.
Which when his Mother Venus had espide
She causd a mistie clowd twixt them to rise,
And therewith did hir Sonne Eneas hide
From sight of Diomedes cruell eies:
And afterward wroght him that spightfull scorne
And did his men in shape of Birds transforme.
And in that sort from time to time they flie,
Vnto the place of Diomedes graue,
Where as his body deepe intombd doth lie,
To shew that still a mind of him they haue.
For yearely on his day of Funerall,
They flock about that place both great & small.
And there from morne till night you shall thē find.
It further is reported to be true,
That those strāge Birds do loue the Greekes by kind,
And vtterly doe hate and still eschew
The Latins, and do know them well asunder,
When they thē see. Which seemeth such a won­der
To me, that I by no meanes can espey,
Nor yet conceiue by any manner way,
The hidden causes of such sorcery;
But this I know, and that I dare well say,
The first beginning of so bad jntent,
Was wrought by art of foule jnchantment.
But faith doth teach vs boldly to defie,
And flatly banish all jllusion;
Which Satan daily casts before our eye,
To bring vs thereby to confusion.
And thus by famous Troyes subversion,
Full many ancient Cities first begun.
And diuers Lands, with many a wealthy towne,
By sequell of that warre long flourished;
Which fore that Troye was cruelly throwne downe,
Lay wast, and were not then jnhabited.
But to declare them orderly by name,
Were labour great for me to do the same.
And therefore to Prince Iason jle returne,
That went a shore at Simeont by Troye;
And for a day or two did there soiourne,
The comfort of the pleasant aire t'enjoye:
And of his weary toyle himselfe to ease,
Till wind and waues did calme vpon the Seas.
But enviously a false report was blowne,
And to the King Laomedon declar'd;
That certaine Grecian Knights to him vnknowne,
To enter in his land themselues prepar'd:
Well armed at each point, which bred surmise,
They sought t'jnvade the Country by surprise.
Else would they first (say they) a licence craue,
And not so proudly land without consent
Of him or his, and no safe conduct haue,
Which argued but a signe of bad intent:
Which if the King would not prenent in time,
They said, might proue his prejudice in fine.
For if (said they) he will not seeme to feare
Their landing, but deferre by negligence,
T'enquire & know from whence they are, & where
They meane to go, and what is their pretence:
He may perchance repent his little care,
Of making hast against them to prepare.
For sodaine things require sodaine sight,
And should not be deferd till mischiefe fall;
And Dogs are to be fear'd that first do bite,
And flie vpon a man before they braule:
So wisedome doth require present speed,
To stop a mischiefe ere it further breed.
Thus did the Troyans murmure in the towne,
And speake thereof each one vnto the other,
As in the streets they walked vp and downe,
That at the length there spread so great a rumor▪
That Laomedon did forthwith prepare
A messenger, to know from whence they were.
And without counsell taking in the same,
In hast did send to will them to depart;
Or else he said their pride he would so tame,
That stoutest of them all should wish in heart
He had not been so bold, to giue the venter
Without his leaue, within his land to enter.
The messenger in this sort sent away,
Made hast to let Prince Iason vnderstand,
What Laomedon willed him to say,
And to command him to auoyd the land:
Who all this while did nought but sport & play,
Attending time from thence to saile away.
Th'effect of which his message to declare,
From poynt to poynt, verbatim as it was;
As neere as ere I can, I will not spare,
And what thereof did after come to passe:
Which in the Chapter following shall appeare▪
If to the same you giue attentiue eare.

CHAP. V.

I How Laomedon King of Troye sent to Iason to command him and his company forthwith to depart out of his Countrie; and what answere they returned to the King againe.

THe high and mighty Prince of great renowne,
My most redoubted Lord and soueraigne true▪
Laomedon of Troye that beares the crowne,
By me his messenger hath sent to you:
To let you know he doth not well conceaue,
Of this your bold arriuall without leaue
Within his land, thus armed as you seeme,
Not once vouch [...]afing first to know his mind;
As though of him you made so small esteeme,
That no resistance gainst you he could find:
The which to let you well perceiue and see,
He doth expresly send you word by mee:
That presently and that without delay,
Both you and yours depart out of this land
And Troia [...] bounds, and get you hence away,
Or else by force he minds you to withstand
And will you nill you, make you leaue the place,
If you presume to offer him disgrace.
My counsell is (beleeue it if you list)
To get you hence in peace and quietnes,
For folly great t'were for you to resist,
And of meer pride or glorious wilfullnes,
Seeke to disturbe my Lorde feli [...]itie,
Which now doth liue in great tranquilitie.
And doth his kingdome governe and maintaine,
With so great wisedome and magnificence
By valor and by might, that twere in vaine,
For any to withstand him of pretence.
Wherefore I wish you all if you be wise,
Herein to take and follow mine advise.
And seeke not further now to moue offence,
Least you procure your perill woe and smart,
And find that true by good experience
Which friendly vnto you I doe impart.
This is my Lords embassage too you sent;
Conceiue it as you will tis his intent.
The messenger in this sort having said
What Laomedon charged him as then.
Iason therewith not very well apayd;
In face and colour waxed pale and wan.
Yet soberly with wisedome held his peace:
Not seeming once in chollor to encrease.
Nor yet to take offence what ere fell out,
Although it vext and grieu'd him at the hart,
But stood as mute: at last he turnd about;
And vnto all his fellowes did jmpart
What message Laomedon had him sent,
And how to him and them he seemed bent.
And willing them about him to draw neare,
He thus began his words and speech to frame.
My friends and fellowes whom I loue so de [...]e,
Know that King Laomedon doth vs blame
For entring (as he saith) within his land,
Before we craved licence at his hand.
And for that cause a messenger hath sent
With threatning words, to let vs know his mind,
That to driue vs from hence is his intent
If here we stay. Wherefore he doth vs bind,
And straightly charge eft-foones without delay,
All scuses set apart to packe away.
Behold said he what blindnes he doth [...]e,
And how he doth on honor set his mind,
That vnto wearied strangers doth refuse
To giue them leaue a little ease to find
In their distresse, who nothing lesse pretend,
Then him or his in any wise t'offend.
But where is antient libertie become,
Is neigher loue, nor kindnes to be found?
Both which in Princely harts should haue a roome.
And where is honor gon that vs'd t'abound
In Princes minde? who of an antient right,
Still mooved them with care and great delight,
To entertaine all strangers that resort
Vnto their Courts, or countreys whatsoere,
That afterward they might of them report,
What Princely and what noble minds they beare.
But neither loue nor libertie are found
In this Kings Court, or countrey to abound.
For if he were of noble heart and kind,
He could not chuse [...]ot in them both delight:
And to shew forth his great and Princely mind;
He would command his subjects to their might,
To succour men opprest with woe and griefe
And not haue sent vs hence without reliefe.
For if that he had chanced from the seas,
By fortune or adventure whatsoere,
T'ariue and set his foot on shoare for ease
Where any Grecian Prince doth Scepter beare,
With much more honor like to his degree,
He should not faile by vs receau'd to bee.
But sith that he for ought I can espie,
Hath banisht out of mind and doth disdaine,
All freedome, honor, and humanitie,
And cleane contrary vices doth retaine,
We must and will his mind herein fullfill,
Because as now our power's not like our will.
For this is sure and so it shall be found,
That this disgrace which to vs now is don,
In th'end may chance vpon himselfe rebound,
Sith that he hath of malice thus begon,
And peradventure it may chance fall out,
Ere Phebus thrice the Zod [...]ack runnes about.
For let him trust and thereof be assurd,
We will him serue, with such as he hath sent,
And if I liue, and what he hath procurd,
He shall not faile thereof by my intent,
Albeit now I set no time nor tide,
Sith longer here I mindd not to abide.
Till I haue better leisure to soiorne,
And so with stearne and yet with liuely cheare,
At that same word began about to turne,
And suddenly vnto the messenger
That from the King as then to him was sent,
In this wise he declared his jntent:
My friend (quoth he) know well and vnderstand
The message which as now thou bringst to me,
From Laomedon King of Tr [...]i [...] land,
Vnfit doth seeme from such a Prince as he.
For by each point thereof I doe perceaue,
How he doth vse of strangers to conceaue.
And cannot chuse but deepely in my mind,
Thinke much on his great favor to vs showne,
And of his liberalitie so kind,
And gifts which on vs now he hath bestowne.
Nor can I well let slip out of my thought,
The least reward that thou to vs hast brought.
For trust me well I can it not forget,
But needs must deepe jmprint it in my mind,
How by his honor he so much doth set,
As that he studieth onely to be kind.
That by thee now doth send vnto vs here,
Such intertainment, great and dainty cheare.
Cleane contrary to that we did expect;
From such a worthy famous Prince as he,
But god which doth all secrets deepe detect,
Can beare vs witnes jnnocents to be
From any hurtor any bad pretence,
That we ere ment gainst him to cause offence.
And Gods to record in this case I call,
With my whole heart to justifie the same,
(Whatsoever may hereafter chance to fall.)
We haue not once deserved any blame.
Nor violently taken any thing
From man, or boy, so mayst thou tell the King.
But being forst by great and stormy wind,
Necessity compelled vs to land
Vpon this coast, some succour here to find,
And rest our wearied limmes vpon the strand.
Intending but a day or two to stay,
And then againe with speed to go away,
Vnto the place where we desire to bee.
Which thou vnto thy Lord for truth maist say,
And further that the time he shall once see,
When as perchance more thanks receiue he may
From vs, or els it may be from some other,
So go thy waies, and farewell gentle brother.
When Iason thus an answere had returnd,
And bad the Tr [...]an messenger depart:
The noble Knight stout Hercules that burn'd
With rage, and fury inwardly in hart,
As he was gon [...] [...]ad him againe turne backe
Disdainefully, and thus to him he spake▪
Good fellow thou that art the messenger
Of thy good Lord, who hath thee hither sent▪
Content thy selfe, and stand thou not in feare,
That here to stay is ought of our jntent,
For that before the Sunne shall rise againe
We will be gon, and so I tell thee plaine.
And not a man of ours on sho [...]re shall be,
To morrow at this time what e [...]e befall,
And therevpon my troth I pledge to thee,
And Gods to witnes to the same I call.
For we intend no longer here t'soiorne,
But to our ships againe with speed returne.
As soone as it is dawning of the day,
On paine to suffer fowle reproch and blame,
But ere three yeares shall fully passe away,
Who euer saith contrary to the same,
We will returne againe into this land,
And cast our Ankors here vpon this sand.
Take heed thereof and note full well the time,
And let this now suffice and warning be,
That some new change shall follow of this Prime,
Which if Iliue thy King shall plainely see,
And when his power gainst vs shall not extend,
For his safe conduct we will scorne to send.
And then I tell thee plainely for no lie,
We will no more regard him then a straw,
Nor of his words nor threats that are so hie,
The least of vs shall stand in any awe.
Till when because we will him not deceaue,
We mind not once of him to take our leaue.
For that of vs he seemes to make a jest,
As though we were not worthy better cheare;
But though he now doth thinke to liue at rest,
I sweare by God he shall abide it deare.
Which in the end shall turne vnto his shame:
And see that to the King you tell the same.
The messenger thereto did thus reply,
And sayd, though for the King you do not care,
This privileged you can me not deny,
In decent tearmes the message to declare,
Which now to you I bring what ere it bee,
Good or els bad, there is no fault in mee.
And wheresoere it pleaseth you to stay,
The choise is in yourselues as being free,
Yet thus much vnto you I must needs say
You haue no cause now to be wroth with me.
But leaue your threatning while you here remain,
And doe your worst when as you come againe.
For wisedome doth require silence now
And secresie till that you be at large,
And then you may your courage boldly show.
But truth to say it longs not to my charge,
To stand and striue with you or make debate,
Yet better t'were betimes, then all to late
For you to shun the harmes that may befall.
And at this time I will with you be plaine,
For my discharge to tell it to you all,
That pittie t'were that here you should be slaine,
Or offered any point of villany,
Sith that no man whatsoeuer can deny,
But that your good behaviour doth declare,
And shew you worthie Personages to bee,
To governe and command in peace, and warre,
And to descend of great and high degree.
But least with words perchāce I might you grieue
Ile say no more but take of you my leaue.
The night ore-past at dawning of the day,
When as the Larke with sweet and pleasant note,
Doth straine hir brest as much as well she may,
To greet the streames of Phoebus Chariot,
As then beginning in the Orient skie
To shew themselues with crimson colourd die.
And faire Aurora with her silver showers,
The fragrant Roses had begon to wet,
And all bedew'd the blooming silver flowers,
As Lillies, Cowslippes, and sweet Margaret.
And made them spread their leaues both fresh & bright
Which had been closed vp by glooming night.
And hony-Suckles mong the bushes green
Perfumed had the aire with pleasant sent:
Long ere that Titans glistring beames were seene,
And to our Hemisphere their course had lent,
To comfort and relieue each living wight,
Which by his heat receiue their strēgth & might.
Long time I say, before the Sun did rise,
Prince Iason and his fellow Hercules
With all the speed they could in hasty-wise
Prepard themselues to put vnto the Seas.
Commanding every man his way to take,
Abord the ship, and all things ready make▪
The Ankor vp with merry heart and glad,
They hoysed Sayles, and straight put from the land.
For Iason knew the little traine he had,
Could not suffice the Troians to withstand:
As being much more weaker to conclude,
Then Troians were for strength and multitude.
So that as then warre with them to begin
Was not his wisest way to take in hand,
Nor likely was the victorie to win,
As having but a small and feeble band.
(For he that hewes aboue his head too hie,
Perchance a chip may fall into his eie.)
And therefore made great speed to get away,
And having wind at will did saile so fast,
That finding no occasion them to stay,
They did ariue at Colchos safe at last
By Fortunes aide, (although sometime vnstable)
That did them helpe as much as she was able.
In Colchos Isle a goodly towne did stand,
Which for the riches, worthines, and fame,
Was principall and chiefe within that land
That called was Iaconites by name,
With streets full large and howses very faire,
And seated in a good and wholsome aire.
Round compassed with towred walles about,
The which did make a stately show to see.
And strong and deepely ditched all without
To make defence against the enemy.
Wherein King Oeta with his Princely traine,
(As fittest place) did specially remaine.
(And at such time as Iason thether went,
He found him there with many a worthy Knight,
For whom the King then purposely had sent,
To shew his great magnificence and might.
That so his fame reported farre and neare,
Vnto the Greekes for truth might then appeare.)
About this towne were hilles and mountaines steep
And valleies faire and pleasant to the eie,
With divers Rivers sweet, and fresh, and deep,
That every where within the land did lie.
And many a lake, and many a goodly well,
Commodious for their vse which there did dwell
And store of Parkes for beasts both wild and [...]ame,
And wods and medowes fresh and very greene,
With sundry hearb [...] and flowers in the same,
Of faire and divers colours there were seene.
As pleased nature paint and set them out,
As time of yeare when Summer came about.
For fishing fowling, and for Princely game,
Of hunting and of hauking in the field,
No countrey in the world did passe the same,
Nor yet more store of fish and fowle did yeild,
And plenty of each other kind of thing,
As Corne, and graine, that firtile soyle did bring.
There likewise did the Birds most sweetly sing,
In time of yeare with pleasant harmony,
When trees and bushes gan to bud and spring,
Procuring with their cheerefull mellody.
Great joy and comfort to the wounded harts
Of lovers, that were peirst with cupids darts.
That certainely when Summer past away,
And winter cold and chill did end the yeare,
And that the faire delighfull month of May
With Lady Flora did begin t'appeare,
And deckt the fields with flowers of strange devise
That stately land did seeme a Parradise.
And for all kind of dainty food and fine,
Dame Ceres that the name had alwaies borne,
To be the Queene of plenty, sent them wine,
Flesh, fish, and fowle, with every kind of co [...]e,
in so great plenty and exceeding store,
No Nation in the world could wish for more.
For what soere Dame Nature could devise
Was found therein, for nothing there was seant,
That pleasure might procure to hart or eyes,
Nor any man therein complaind of want,
So great increase this little Isl [...] did bring,
Of all and eke of every kind of thing.
Vnto this Towne Prince Iason straight did goe
With Hercules, and all their noble traine,
Who in the way did make a goodly shoe
As hand in hand they marcht in rancks of twaine,
Each one of stature big and very tall,
Young, lustie, strong, and hady therewithall.
Their countenances sad and full demure,
In so good sort and in such comely wise,
That vnto every man it did procure,
Such pleasure to behold their greekish guise,
That all the Towne did run in flocks to see,
And learne what countrey people they might be.
That in such manner came into the Towne,
So vnexspected of the King and Peeres.
And every one went walking vp and downe
To hearken, and to tell what newes he heares.
So rude they were to wonder, stare, and gase.
And gape, and looke, as it were in a maze.
For such as in great Townes do vse to dwell,
Are commonly jnquisitiue of newes.
But of King Oates now I must you tell,
How kindly he those strangers then did vse,
And at their first ariuall in the court,
Receiu'd and welcom'd them in princely sort.
For presently as he did vnderstand
Th'ariuall of Prince Iason and his traine,
Of worthy grecian Knights within his land,
He did not seeme their comming to disd [...],
But rising from his chaire without delay,
In person went to meet them on the way.
Receaving them with glad and joyfull cheare.
In stately wise as it becomes a King.
And that his bountie might the more appeare,
Vnto his royall court he doth them bring,
With charge vnto his officers to see,
They should be seru'd each one in his degree.
And that not any thing what ere should want,
That might procure their pleasure or their ease,
Nor any one in duty should be scant
To honor them, if him they sought to please.
That don he leads them to his Royall place
Where he doth welcom thē with Princely grace.
And passing through a Marble paved yeard,
He went into a stately sumpteous hall,
Wherein no cost of any thing was spard,
That might adorne and beatifi't withall.
The walles beser with Images of gold,
And hangd with Arras costly to behold.
Where being entred in, and he set downe,
He doth them all in hearty manner greet,
And welcome bids to Iacomtes towne,
Each one in his degree as he thought meet.
Commanding straight great store of wine & bear
To be broght forth their wearied limbs to chear.
The King thus set and plast in Royall chaire,
All hang'd with rich and costly cloth of gold,
And gilt and set with pearles very faire,
Most sumptious and most stately to behold.
Environed with Lords and Knights that were
At his command, then summond to be there,
Beholding with a gracious countenance,
Prince Iason, and his fellow Hercules,
Their honors more t'encrease and to advance,
Willd them to sit downe by him for their ease.
But Iason would no longer time let pas,
To shew the King wherefore his comming was▪
Which he in words but few, (yet wisely told,)
Began to tell, with such a comely grace,
And so demurely (as full well he could)
That all that were then present in the place,
Admird his wit, his memory, and tongue,
To be most perfect in a Prince so young.
But ere he did begin his tale to frame,
With good advise, and great discretion,
He did in mind premeditate the same,
And to each sentence gaue direction,
And did his meaning then so wisely say,
That Oetes his request could not denay.
And so with sto [...] and princely courage bold,
He started vp; with due obedience,
And kneeling fore the King, began t'vnfold
Wherefore he came, and shewed the full pretence,
Of his so strange and valiant enterprise,
Which in this manner thus he did deuise.
Most puissant Prince, and King of Colchos land,
May't please you of your high and speciall grace,
Beningly now to heare and vnderstand
The cause of my repaire vnto this place,
And in good sort not taking of offence,
Vouchsafe therein to giue me audience.
To vse long speech and many words were vaine,
And might perhaps breed cause of tediousnes,
Or moue offence: but soothly to be plaine,
Reiecting rethoritian curiousnesse,
In briefe t'vnfold the some of mine intent,
I must confesse that honour hath me bent,
To trie th'adventure of the golden fleece,
And win the glory to atchiue the same,
And for that cause I passed out of Greece,
In hope t'augment my valor and my fame,
Which if your grace will giue me leaue t'assay,
I doubt not but to beare the prise away,
And though I know what ever men pretend,
And vndertake in hope of victory,
(Vnlesse the gods some savour to them lend,
In whom consisteth all felicitie)
It were in vaine for any man to venter,
Or on him take in perill great to enter.
For peace, and warre, dishonor eke, and fame,
Doe all vpon their willes and mights depend,
And no man can withstand them in the same.
What ever fortune shall vnto me send,
I will not spare th'adventure now to trie
And doe my best, for once I can but die.
If that your Grace thereto will giue consent,
And grant me leaue my force therein t'assay
Vnto your lawes therein, is my intent
In each respect to yeild and to obay,
And craue no favour whatsoere betide,
Hap good or ill, I will it all abide.
Most humbly craving that without delay,
My mind heerein your grace will not withstand,
But rather flatly bind me to a day,
The same t'achieue, if so I tak't in h [...]nd.
Speake gracious Prince, & grant to my request,
And loe your Knight at your command is prest.
While Iason thus his mind did boldly say,
The King that full attentiuely the while
His speech had mark't, with silence seem'd to stay
Before he spake, at last he gan to smile,
And friendly him beholding in the face,
Vnto him sayd with glad and cheerefull grace;
Young Knight, although thy mind be fully set,
And wholly bent vpon this enterprise
So dangerous, that no man can thee let,
Nor hold thee from't; yet follow my advise,
And wisely with thy selfe resolue in mind,
Ere thou begin't, what danger thou shalt find.
For know thou must (though valiant be thy hart)
That this adventure is so hard to win:
(As being wrought and fram'd by magicke Art)
That strength of man can not prevaile therein:
But he that dares the same once vndertake,
To end his life a full account must make.
No favor, nor no hope for him is left,
That doth presume to take the same in hand,
For by the law he is thereof bereft,
(Which by no means he may in ought withstand)
As having choise before he gines to venter,
To leaue the same, and not therein to enter.
But once begun, he must therein proceed,
For backe he may not turne, what ere betide.
And though he stand in never so great need,
His dome is past, he must his chance abide.
For death is his reward that doth begin
And take in hand the golden fleece to win.
So strickt a law binds him that this will trie,
Which vnto thee yong Iason I must tell,
I can by no meanes change, nor yet deny
To any one: therefore advise thee well,
Before thou ventrest t'vndertake the same,
Least afterward, on me be layd the blame
Of thy so desperate destruction.
Wherefore for my discharge I thee require,
With hearty and with true intention,
To leaue the same: and let not high desire
Procure thee to incurre thine owne decay,
By this so hard and vnexpected way.
Sith then thou seest what danger lies therein,
For that from point to point I haue thee told
The truth of all before thou dost begin,
Let reason rule, and be not overbold
To take in hand, while time thou hast to chuse,
Least when thou wouldst, thou canst it not refuse.
The time doth now afford thee space to take,
Or to refuse th'adventure, which you will,
For looke what law God Mars himsefe did make,
I must the same in all respects fulfill.
What ere he be that venters in this case,
Let him be sure, he gets no other grace.
Thus (youthfull Iason) whatsoere betide,
I haue thee told and openly let know
What danger thou art sure thereby t'abide:
Which if I could, I would haue kept thee fro.
But truth to say, I can it not deny
To any man that sekes the same to try.
Then to conclude, sith now thou dost perceiue
What danger lies herein, take heed in time
Of her that turnes the wheele, least she bereaue
Thee of thy life, while it is in the prime.
Doe as thou wilt, thou getst no more of mee,
Of weale or woe, the choise consists in thee.
With that the King did rise out of his seat,
When time drue neare for dinner to provide,
Whereto the preparation was so great,
That care of all things els being set aside,
Each Officer was busied to see,
That nothing whatsoere, should wanting bee.
The tables couered stately to behold,
And Cubbards well and costly garnished
With store of plate, of silver, and of gold,
(Whereof the King was richly furnished)
And Trumpets sounding every man to call,
When as the meat was brought into the hall:
The King set downe with in his Royall seate,
With Hercules and Iason at his bord,
Great store of sundrie kinds of dainty meate,
Were served in as time did then afford:
That done, the Marshall placed all the rest,
Each one in his degree, as he thought best.
Where every man was entertaind so well,
That wonder t'was to see their costly fare,
Which in each thing did there so much excell,
By reason that the King no cost did spare,
That all the Court admir'd his noble mind,
Cause he to strangers shew'd himselfe so kind.
And more for to delight their minds withall,
Musitions never ceased still to play
On Citern, Lute, Bandore, and Base-Viall,
Cornet, and Flute, to passe the time away:
With pleasant notes, and in such stately wise,
As it had been an earthly Paradize.
For truth to say, such plenty there was found,
That Oetaes liberalitie was prays'd,
And so extold in all things to abound,
That his great fame vnto the skies was rays'd,
For entertaining strangers in such wise,
By all the wayes and meanes he could devise.
To tell each severall kind of meate by name,
Or halfe thereof in order to descrie,
Impossible it were to do the same,
There was so much and great diversitie.
It shall suffice to say such was the store,
That wit of man could well devise no more.
And to be briefe, the King did so excell
In every point of liberalitie,
That rightly might be sayd, in him did dwell
The patterne of true magnanimitie:
No marvell then, as it did well appeare,
He made the Greekes so great and royall cheare.
And more for to augment his fame withall,
He caus'd his onely Daughter to be brought
Out of her chamber downe into the hall,
Whose beautie if the world throghout were sought
Could not be matcht, so much it did excell,
That to describ't were hard for me to tell.
Whose Princely presence wrought no smal delight,
Within the hearts of all the company,
When in most stately wise each Grecian Knight
She gan salute, and no man did deny
Hir courteous entertainment to afford,
As she did passe along from bord to bord.
And chiefely to behold hir comely face,
For whitenes like to Alablaster cleare,
With Roseat cheekes, yet mixed with such grace,
That no accesse of colour did appeare,
Wherein dame Nature plaid so kind a part,
That well she proved mistresse of her Art.
This Princesse cald Medea as we read,
Was th'only child King Oeta had aliue,
And rightly in his Kingdome should succeed,
If she her father chanced to suruiue.
So ripe of yeares and gallant to behold,
That nature neuer fram'd a finer mold.
But notwithstanding this, her beauty rare,
And youthfull yeares, (sufficient to inspire
Her heart with loue) yet was her onely care
To read and study with no small desire,
All kind of books that might or could be found,
Whereby she learn'd of euery Art the ground
So perfectly, that neuer yet was found
A man that did attaine vnto her skill;
Her learning was so great and so profound,
For to discusse of euery thing at will:
And nothing what so e're but she could tell,
Concerning things in heauen, earth, and hell.
No secrets of the earthly globe so round,
But she could well disclose them at her will,
The course of Starres and Planets she had found,
And did attaine vnto so lofty skill,
That by their motion she could truely show,
What should befall vpon the earth below.
She was so learned in Astronomie.
The Nigromancian Art she knew so well,
And thereto did her mind so well apply,
That by her charmes she called out of hell
Th'infernall spirits, and forst them to obay
Her word and will, they durst it not denay.
With words shee vsd to say in sundry wise,
(First casting incense sweet into the fire,
And doing of some diuelish sacrifice,
With Goat, horns, milke, & bloud) her whole desire
She could attaine, when time conuenient
She knew would be, to worke Inchantement.
Such was her skill, and eke so well she had
The heauenly and celestiall bodies found
How to discerne, that times both good and bad
By them she chose, to make and to compound
Her drugs, wherby she brought to passe her will
In euery thing, what euer good or ill.
She could command the winds to storme & blow,
And make the ground to freeze in euery vaine;
And cause it thunder, lighten, haile & snow,
And when she list it sodainly should raine.
And turne the day full cleare to vgly night,
And then againe cause Sun to shine most bright.
She could the waters make to rise and rage,
With huge and lofty billoes to the skye;
And then againe make calme, & eke asswage
The tempest, were it nere so great and hie.
She could yong trees dry vp both root & rind,
And them reuiue againe in selfe same kind.
And in the deepest time of Winter cold,
When buds and blossomes wither and decay;
And euery thing doth fade and waxeth old,
She could the earth make greene, & eke array
The fields with flowers of euery seuerall kind,
And colours as in Summer we them find.
And when she list she could the Summer cleare,
Cleane alter and convert to Winter cold,
And make it looke with darke & glooming cheare,
Strange, woonderfull, and vgly to behold.
Old men she could to youth againe restore,
And make them fresh and lusty as before.
And yong men that no haire on face could show,
Soone would she cause appeare both gray and old.
Such was her skill, that bought on earth below
But she could change, and secrets all vnfold.
And trees with fruit she would at will make bare
Of barke and leafe, a secret strange and rare.
She could the Sun and Moone 'gainst nature stay,
And cause ecclipses out of time by force;
For no man that is learned can denay,
But they are tyed vnto a certaine course.
(As by the Lord ordain'd at first it was,)
The which they may nor can by no means passe.
For till the Sun with glistering beames doth run,
By vsuall course vnto th'ecclipticke line,
And then is in coniunction with the Moone;
There's no ecclipse as writers do define,
But when the Sun with fiery beames most red,
His mansion hath in th'vgly Dragons head.
And that the Moone is seated in the taile
Of Dragon fell, then 'tis a thing most true,
That an ecclipse by nature cannot faile,
But certainly thereof must needs ensue:
By reason of intersecations,
Of circles and of reuolutions.
Which fixed are within the skies aloft,
And cause the shining beames of Phoebus bright,
(As it is seene within the world full oft)
To be obscur'd and shadowed from our sight;
For that the Moone doth make diuision,
By naturall interposition.
Betweene our eyes and Phebus glistring beames,
So as we may not then behold nor see,
How Tytans flaming Chariot weld his streames,
Which for a time cleane darkned seeme to bee.
But for bycause Ptholome the King,
Within his Booke shews cause of euery thing:
Both of ecclipses and coniunction,
Of Sun and Moone, with other planets bright,
That they doe hap by common motion.
I will no longer of this matter write.
And though that Ouid in his booke doth praise,
Medeas skill her honour so to raise,
And doth of her such fained fables tell,
Yet God forbid that credite we should giue
Vnto such fond conceits, as knowing well,
No creature that vpon the earth doth liue,
Hath power to work against dame natures course,
To make the Sun and Moone ecclipst by force.
For God that ruleth all things by his might,
Hath so disposd his heauenly creatures,
That they cannot remooue by day nor night,
Without his will as long as world endures:
But in a mutuall order still are bound,
Continually the world to compasse round.
For no ecclipse as yet was euer knowne,
The Moone not being in coniunction,
As I haue said, vnlesse that God hath showne
A miracle, as in the passion.
For then the Sun was found ecclipst to be,
Gainst natures course, as all the Iews might see.
For when that Christ vpon the crosse was nail'd,
The Son of life was darkened for our good,
And then of heauen and earth the powers fail'd,
(At shedding of his pure and precious bloud)
And shewed signes most strangely to behold,
The glory of his God-head to vnfold.
The earth did quake, great darknes did appeare,
The dead did rise (which caus'd no little wonder)
Within the Church the vale in midst did teare,
Hard stones and rocks did burst & cleaue in sunder.
That for the tokens strange and marueilous,
Which then were seene wise Diomsians,
When as he did such sodaine darknesse find,
(Although that he a heathen was by right)
Yet seemed much astonished in mind,
And flatly said, that sure the God of might,
Did suffer death, or else 'twas to presume,
The world as then would perish and consume.
Thus did this heathen man as then conceaue,
When as he did such wonders great behold;
For God his creatures can of power bereaue
As being all of him to be contrould.
For he that did all things on earth ordaine,
Can heauen & earth of vsuall course restraine.
As sacred Scriptures plainly testifie,
How Iosua caus'd the Sun his course to stay,
(While he did force his enemies to flie
At Gabaon, for space of one whole day)
Which God did grant vnto his faithfull Knight,
At his request to shew his power and might.
Then think't not strange, if at the passion
Of Iesus Christ, incarnate for our sake,
The heauens shew'd such alteration,
And bright Sun beames became of color blacke,
Sith he hath made both skie, & sea, & land,
And all are rul'd by his most mighty hand.
But though that Ouid list so much to wright,
And of Medea tells so false a fable,
And to extoll her seemes to take delight,
Yet all he said to proue he was not able;
Although she were a cunning sorceresse,
As ancient stories manifest no lesse.
This shall suffice to shew her wit and skill.
And now I will proceed to mine intent,
To tell how she obayd her fathers will,
When as she knew that he for her had sent,
Inuesting costly furniture great store,
That she might cause her beauty seeme the more.
For if of beauty women haue good store,
They will not faile to play a womans part,
By skill t'encrease dame natures worke the more,
And are therein such mistresses of Art:
That what so er's amisse they will it hide,
That no defect may outwardly be spide.
But she was faire and beautifull in face,
(And in behauiour womanly withall)
And set it forth with such a princely grace,
That euery man admir'd her in the hall:
Her entry so maiesticall did seeme,
As if she had a heauenly creature beene.
King Oeta as the story sheweth it,
As soone as she into the hall was brought,
Caus'd her by yong Prince Iason downe to sit,
For his desire, will, and onely thought
Was, how he might him princely entertaine,
And so his bounty to the Greeks explaine.
But in this point (alas) he seem'd to bee,
Cleane voyd of good aduise & prudent care;
(For wisedome wills vs wisely to foresee
Each danger, and against the same prepare)
To cause a maiden light of wit, and eie,
His pleasure in that case to satisfie.
And though his speciall meaning and desire
Was onlie for the honour of his guest;
Yet it did set his Daughters heart on fire,
Which burnt within the furrows of her brest,
So sore that it bred his confusion,
And finally her owne destruction.
Great follie 'twas so much her youth to trust,
And giue her cause of such a motion,
That might prouoke and stir her vnto lust,
And that through want of good discretion,
To thinke vpon (as reason doth require)
A womans light and mutable desire.
Which any man that's wise no doubt will feare.
For who was euer yet so mad or wood,
(Vnlesse he did so sound affection beare,
As that he seemed carelesse of his good)
Without good triall women to beleeue,
or hasty credite to their words to giue.
In whome is neither constancy nor trust,
They are so double and so full of wile,
That hard it is t'restraine them of their lust:
And set their minds so much on fraud & guile,
That no man can himselfe of them assure.
For it to them belongeth of nature.
Euen from the time they first creepe out of cradle,
To be both wilie, wauering and light,
Their hearts they are so fraile and so vnstable,
In youthfull yeares wherein they take delight:
For that while they in growing yeres are yong,
Their inward thoughts agree not with their rong.
Which is the cause that many wise men write,
That wau'ring, change, and mutability,
To women doth belong of ancient right,
As fram'd of mould of instability:
Which all that know them well cannot denay,
(Although it grieueth me so much to say.)
For if you could perceaue their inward mind,
And all their slights and wilie fetches know,
You might the true and liuely patterne find,
Within their hearts (they do so ouer flow)
Of fond and wauering false inconstancy,
Which here and there with euery wind doth fly.
For they are of so mutable a kind,
As if that valiant Hercules should prooue,
And Sampson, both would not suffice to bind
A womans heart, that it should not remooue:
For as the subtill flames of burning fire,
So too and fro they flie in their desire,
Till they accomplish fullie their delight.
For like as nature seeketh after forme,
And therein taketh kindly appetite,
Till she her course by processe may performe:
So womens hearts will ne're refraine from man
In wau'ring lust, deuise what meanes you can.
Nor will they cease till they haue all assaid,
Though that their minds to twenty men were bent,
But would to God as nature is appaid
With one forme onely, holding her content,
And nere desireth further to proceed,
But therein rests, and will it not exceed,
That women her example follow would,
And hold themselues content, and still abide
Constant to one, as they in duty should,
But want of footing makes them often slide:
For not content with perfect vnity,
They bend their minds to seeke plurality.
So much in mutability they flow,
Yet oft pretend a kind of stablenes;
Which outwardly by signes they seeme to show,
But inwardly is hidden doublenes:
So close and sure, that outwardly with eye
Full hard it is their malice to espy.
For vnder show and vaile of honestie,
Their deepe desire is kept full close in mew,
With fained show of simple modesty,
Refusing that which they in heart pursue;
And that an outward praise they may obtaine,
They will dissemble, flatter, lie, and faine.
Then must I needs King O [...]t [...]s tell thee true,
That in this case thou hadst too little care,
In that thou didst not doubt what might ensue,
But let thy daughter faire proceed so farre
Without aduise, with strangers so to deale,
To ouerthrow thy selfe and common weale.
For by that meanes thy treasure it was lost,
Thine honour staind, thy country cleane vndone,
Thy selfe in thousand cares in sorrows [...]ost,
Thy Daughter with a stranger way did run:
And in a fo [...]raigne land through care & thought,
Was in the end to vtter mischiefe brought.
And with no little scandall to thy name,
By miserie, by sorrow, and by griefe;
At last was brought vnto her death with shame,
And thou thy selfe berest of all reliefe,
Might'st [...]it and mourne thy hard & doleful case,
That to preuent it had no better grace.
If thou by wise and prouident foresight,
Hadst had the wit to thinke on future harmes,
And in thy mind would'st haue considered right,
Of women [...] soule and most deceitfull charmes:
Their fraud, their falshood, and fragility,
And that in them is no security:
(As Guydo in his verse doth well declare)
Then surely by thy too much wretchlesnes,
Thou haddest not with sorrow and with care,
Bereft thy selfe of all thy happines,
Thy treasure, and thy onely Daughter deare,
Which both at once were lost as doth appeare.
What could auaile the carefull prouidence,
And strange deuise fram'd by inchantement;
The warie heed and double diligence,
By thee song vs'd all danger to preuent,
Against the wylie wit of women-kind,
Whose subtilties as right by proofe we find,
Are of great force, for will with them is law,
Bee' [...] good or bad it must not be denide;
Nor yet do they of any stand in awe,
They are so full of will, deceit, and pride.
For as mine Author plainely doth expresse,
Medea by her wit and craftinesse,
Bereau'd her father of his treasure great,
And that because she would her mind fulfill;
And Iason to her loue by wiles intreate,
Wherein she did vse all her Art and skill;
As you shall heare if that ye will proceed.
The sequell of this History to read.
For as she had at table take her seat,
Tweene Oeta and the valiant Graecian knight;
And that she should haue fallen to her meat,
Loue did her heart with sodaine passion smight:
And made her colour alter in her face,
And fetch an hundred sighes in little space.
Sometime the blood down to her heart did fall,
And vp againe into her face would rise;
Sometime she blusht, sometime she shewed pael,
Now look't she downe, then cast she vp her eyes;
Yet still among to beautifie her colour,
The fragrant Rose was mixt with Lillie flower.
And though the Rose would somtimes seem to flee [...]
Yet did the Lillie hold her woonted place,
Till nature gaue them meanes againe to meet,
And shew alike within her comely face:
And thus with cold and eke with sodaine heat,
Medeas mind with griefe was sore beset.
Sometimes she burnt, sometimes she waxed cold,
And still as she did seeke with great desire,
Young Iason in the face for to behold,
Her heart it was set more and more on fire,
With his great beauty and his comlinesse,
Which she in heart most deepely did impresse.
His yellow crisped haire like golden wire,
His seemely face, his gracious countenance;
His War-like looke, his valerous desire,
(Which he then shew'd his honour to aduance)
His goodly shape of bodie, and of lim,
And all things else whatsoeuer was in him,
Within her eies and heart bread so great pleasure▪
That only to behold and view him still,
She did esteem't taboue all earthly treasure.
And could haue spent her time by her good will
In contemplation of his person rare,
For that as then for meat she did not care.
As hauing wholy lost all appetite,
So much he stucke in her rememberance;
That for to looke on him was her delight,
Loue had her then so brought into a trance,
And mark't her with her burning fiery brand,
That by no meanes she could escape his hand.
For she was yoked body, heart, and all,
To Iason, who within her heart did lie,
And when that oportunity did fall,
She would at him cast vp a glancing eye.
And then againe looke downe vnto the ground,
Least men should deeme she had some fancies found
For as all women right dissemblers bee,
She kept it close with such an outward show;
That by herface none might percerue nor see
What she did meane, nor her intent once know;
Thereby to take the least occasion,
Out of their minds of bad suspition.
For openly there could nothing be seen,
That should be cause of any heauinesse;
Her seeking was to make them all to ween
The reason, why she vs'd such sobernesse,
Onely of simple woman-hood to bee,
With honest shame and virgin chastitie.
Which both at once within her heart had met,
And caused her that modesty to vse:
And outward show on inward thought to set,
In that she seem'd her meat then to refuse;
The cause as then not being any such,
But onely loue which her at heart did touch.
She could so her hypocresie excuse,
And with an outward show of modesty,
Giue matter vnto fooles whereon to inuse,
When as she sought [...] abuse her chastity.
For not one word out of her mouth did passe,
Her looke vnto her heart contrary was.
For maidens seeme most commonly to spare,
In outward show t'expresse their inward griefe;
Or in their words their meaning to declare,
Of things wherein they wish to haue [...]liefe.
For while they liue in pure virginity,
And by the same are bard of liberty,
They keepe all close and will not seeme too bold,
To shew their minds although it grieue thē much:
Nor tell the thing which otherwise they would,
Although full neere vnto their hearts it tuch.
And so although t'were with a fained grace,
Medea sat with sober cheare and face.
And yet exprest her meaning with her eye,
So secretly that no man could discerne,
The burning fire that in her breast did lye,
The which because it did her much concerne:
She could not chuse her troubled mind t'appease,
But vse some words in secret, which were these:
Would God this braue and lusty Gentleman,
Which showes so faire and gallant in my sight,
Whose comelinesse not well expresse I can,
Assured were to me to be my Knight:
That I might once embrace him in mine arme,
Then would I to my will his sences charme.
His haire that shines like to the golden wire,
His limbs compact and fram'd in co [...]ley wise▪
His stature as proportion doth require.
In seemely height, so well doth please mine eies:
That by my will it would my heart content,
To winne his loue if fortune would consent.
For that his knightly face for to behold,
[...]s vnto me an earthly Deity;
Though inwardly I feele my heart full cold,
And yet in truth it may none other be.
Alas will he not pitty my estate,
And cause me thinke my selfe most fortunate?
I would he knew my true and good in [...]ent,
(Whereof I thinke he takes but little [...]eed)
And how my loue to him in fully bent,
Which inwardly doth make my heart to bleed;
Yet should I die I date i [...] not disclose,
Although for him I fo [...]le a thousand [...].
But curelesse is my sor [...] and my paine,
To friend no [...] foe I dare [...] not vnfold▪
Nor yet in any fort thereof complaine,
To find redresse▪ if any way I could▪
And yet I would not any should [...],
But that I would procur't in honest wise.
As openly in time it shall be found,
For that in lawfull wedlocke vnto him,
Is my desire truely to be bound,
And so my meaning's voyd of any sinne:
As being grounded vpon faithfulnesse,
Without all fraud or any doublenesse.
Behold how women craftily can play,
To wish a thing, and nothing lesse [...],
And secretly that no man ought should say,
With face full smooth can shadow their desire:
And hide their lust by wile and subtilty,
With meere pretence and vaile of honesty.
And though that to be faithfull they pretend,
And that the depenes of their trechery,
They can with outward flourishes defend▪
And all their wiles so closely couer'd lie,
Yet secretly deceit by them is meant,
With sugred words of good and true i [...]en [...].
As if they did all honesty pretend,
When certainly 'tis but an outward sho [...]
As it is found and proueth in the end,
And many men by true experience know:
So well they can say one, and other meane;
And colour blew, full lightly turne to greene
For vnder vaile of painted stablenesse,
And fained shew of honest modesty,
The wilie serpent cald now [...]anglenesse,
Within their hearts full secretly doth lie:
For what they most desire in outward sho,
They will deny't, and sweare it is not so.
Thus Guydo seemes of women to indi [...]e
Alas that he with them should make debate▪
Or cursedly so much of them should [...],
It grieueth me in English to translate
Their foule disgrace, o [...] to iustifie,
For rather had I for their sakes to die.
And therefore I will craue their patience,
To beare with me, because I write thus much,
My purpose is not for to giue offence,
As knowing well they are not any such.
They are so true and perfect in their thought,
That I suppose not one of them is nought.
And further I doe thinke there is not one,
But that in will and heart she will be true,
And keepe her selfe vnto one man alone,
But be it some doe choose them louers new:
To say the truth they are not worthy blame,
For oftentimes they see men do the same.
They must prouide for new when men refuse,
To loue them more, & seeke for other change,
And if I could, I would them full excuse,
(For why should men haue liberty to range)
And women not, which cannot liue alone,
Store is no sore, if they haue more then one.
Wherefore I must of them desire leaue,
Although I write as matter doth befall;
I hope it shall not giue them cause to grieue,
When as I follow mine originall:
For reason is that punishment should light
On him that doth so hard'gainst women write.
And them so much and causlesly offend,
By ouermuch inuaying'gainst their kind,
But if I might I would it soone amend,
And him to judgement of the women bind;
That they might him vnto his pennance set,
For if for to repent he should forget,
I would dispaire of his saluation,
And think that he straight down to hell should go,
And neuer should obtaine remission,
Vnlesse he did some satisfaction show.
For all's not true that we in bookes do find,
And if it were, 'twere hard for women kind.
If Guido therefore were as now aliue,
So bitter pennance he should furely haue;
If I were Priest and had him heare to shriue,
That till the time that he were layd in graue,
He should remember daily to repent,
And earnestly in heart his fact relent,
That he so spake to his confusion.
But let this passe, and now I will proceed,
And meane to make no more digression,
To tell how faire Medea then did speed;
Who taking leaue, did presently depart
Out of the hall, with sad and heauy heart.
And Iason when the King likewise did rise,
With Hercules, was to his chamber brought;
Most richly hang'd in braue and sumptuous wise,
With cloth of Gold in curious manner wrought:
Where they did rest and take their ease a while,
Vpon their beds the time so to beguile.
Meane while (as it already hath been sayd)
Medea was into her chamber gone,
Where to her selfe she thought vpon and wayd
(As she therein sat musing all alone)
How she might ease the sorrow & the smart,
Which her so sore then pinched at the heart.
For loue, which had her set in such a rage,
That easely she could it not forgo,
Nor find a ready meanes the same t'asswage,
For furious Cupid had her wounded so,
With his most fiery shafe within her brest,
That whereso e're she sat she could not rest.
So violent and seruent was the heat,
That still it did her paine and griefe encrease:
For in her breast there was a conflict great,
Twixt loue and shame which either did her presse,
To yeeld vnto their wills in some respect:
So that she could not tell which to reiect.
For loue a Knight of great renowne and fame,
Who neither feareth, dagger, sword, nor knife;
Like Lyon fierce pursued still his game,
And hot and hasty was t'aduenture life:
And there withall most proud in highest degree,
For Cupids chiefest officer is hee.
Who doth enforce both high and low of state,
In perills great and troublesome to enter,
And bringeth men by hard and cruellfate,
Vnto their ends, and thousand dangers t'venter.
For loue of feare nor perill takes no heed,
So that in his proceedings he may speed.
But shame of other nature that consists,
Is alwaies bashfull, cowardly, and faint:
And dares not once so much as bend her fi [...]s,
Vnlesse it be through very meere constraint:
For cowardise doth make her hide her face,
For feare least she should fall into disgrace.
Much like a child of young and tender yeares,
As hauing neither courage, will, nor heart,
To giue assault, she is so full of feares:
And yet full oft hath playd a peuish part,
And many louers crost when they should speed,
By counsell of his foster brother dread.
For feare and shame if they together lie,
Bereaue hot loue of heart and hardines,
And both together flatlie him denie,
The meanes or any power a word t'expresse:
Or once his mind to open and declare,
To ease himselfe of sorrow, woe, and care.
For when that loue doth boldlie thinke to speake,
And is vpon the very point t'assay.
And giue the venture forth his mind to breake,
Sharue s [...]eppeth out and vtterly saith nay:
And causes loue like Snaile his hornes to shrinke,
And bashfully with both his eies to winke.
And by that meanes he doth his suite impaire.
And thus is shame still froward and doth vary
From hardie loue, and puts him in despaire,
By helpe of feare, which both do him contrary.
For if that shame fond loue would neuer cheake,
Loue often times his lawes would surely breake.
For as a horse that seeks to be at large,
In furious wise breaks bridle, bit, and raine,
And striues to free himselfe from Keepers charge:
Solouers true to ease themselues of paine,
(I [...] feare & shame did not their wyls with-hold)
T'effect their lusts would be too hot and bold.
But all the while that shame is kept in mew,
Within the breast that no man doth it know,
No such effect of loue there doth ensue,
But still it makes an honest outward show.
For did not shame withstand loues lawlesse lust,
Loue out the hart all danger soone would thrust.
And were not shame the keeper and the gaile
Of womens hearts (as Authors plainely say)
It were in vaine the Castle to assaile,
Or any siege against the same to lay:
For in that case long parle shold not need,
For women hate delay, and loue to speed.
But shame and feare loues combe so short had cut,
And humbled him so much in heart and mind,
That they had him cleane vnto silence put,
And he no meanes to ease himselfe could find:
And thus twixt loue and shame in great distresse,
Medea sat in care and pensiuenesse.
Which she could not by any meanes endure.
So hot she burnt within her tender brest:
For when as loue did her in part assure,
In fine to giue some comfort, ease, and rest
Vnto her heart, shame put her in a doubt,
With feare to thinke how that it would fall out.
And thus she stood still more and more in feare,
Twixt loue and shame as it were at a stand,
For shame was great, but loue more force did beare,
And in the end did get the vpper hand.
For feare and shame she durst not once discouer,
The fire of loue which in her heart did houer.
Which easely she could not well shake off,
And so she sat perplex't without reliefe,
(Till fortune full dispos'd at her to scoffe,
By turning of her wheele, did ease her griefe:
But with vnhappy chance as she doth vse,
All those that put their trust in her t'abuse.
For when that men do thinke to sit at ease,
On top of fortunes wheele, and nothing doubt;
That smiling Lady can them soone displease,
By giuing it but one small turne about:
And cause them fall as much as they did rise,
When they least of her treason do surmise.
For she is alwaies false and eke vnstable,
Prouoking men to things aboue their reach,
Which though that they t'attaine thē are not able,
With fained showes she can them finely catch,
And make thē break their brains both night & day
Bout haddy-wist, when she with them doth play
With her deceitfull face and flattery,
As she that well cap bring such fooles to bed,
And caus'd them to their own destruction hie,
And when that she to mischiefe hath them led;
She turnes her back & with a pleasant smile,
Doth joy to thinke how she can men beguile.)
And striuing thus within her selfe, at last
When reason could not win the field of rage,
And she sometime in musing had ore-past,
At length her inward torment to asswage:
She ga [...]n both pro & contra to debate,
The matter with her selfe as still she sate.
And said, in vaine Medea thou dost striue,
For sure one of the heauenly Gods it is,
That bends his force gainst thee. Doth any liue
That euer saw so strange a thing as this?
Is any thing like vnto burning loue?
Should I my Fathers hests esteeme aboue
All measure hard? truth 'tis th'are hard and sore,
Why should I feare this strangers death so much,
Sith he's a man I neuer saw before?
Why should his perill me at heart so tuch?
Vnhappy wench, if thou couldst find some rest,
And coole the heat which burneth in my breast,
It were a good and blessed turne for thee.
For where as griefe now seemeth thee to kill,
Thou mightst thereby at heart well eased be.
But now a strange disease against my will
Doth draw me on, fond loue perswadeth me.
And though by Art whats best for me I see,
Yet do I headlong follow that is worst.
Why should I thus so fondlie seeme to raue?
And on a stranger dote as one accurst,
And seeke a forraine husband so to haue?
When as at home to my content and mind,
I may a louer meet for me well find.
But who can tell if he shall liue or no?
And yet I pray long life may be his lot,
For without all offence I may pray so,
And wish him well although I loue him not:
For what offence hath Iason done to me?
Who pittieth not his youth, should cruell be.
What is she but his valour might her moue?
But setting that aside, who would not rage,
And burne at heart with hot and feruent loue
With Iasons faire and goodlie personage?
My heart is toucht therewith assuredly.
And if that I prouide not remedy,
The burning breath of Buls will him so blast,
That with the fires his body sing'd shall be,
And of the seeds that he in ground shall cast,
A strange and vncoath haruest he shall see,
Of armed men, that out the earth shall grow,
Against whom he had need his valour show.
And as a prey he shall likewise be set,
Against the fierce and cruell Dragon fell:
Which things if that I do not seeke to let,
Then must I trulie say, and shew full well,
That Tyger did me breed, and in my brest
A heart more hard then flint or steele doth rest.
Why rather should I not with wrathfull eie,
His death behold, and in the same delight?
Why mooue I not the Buls most furiouslie,
Gainst him to hold a fierce and cruell fight?
And all the knights that shall rise out the ground,
Incite to set on him, and him confound.
And that same Dragon fell which nere doth rest?
The Gods forbid that I such things should do,
Such treacherie I vtterlie detest,
But praier is small remedy thereto,
Vnlesse that I do lend my helping hand.
And shall I then betray my natiue land?
Shall I a stranger saue I do not know?
And giue him aid that me perchance may leaue
Behind him, and into his Countrie go
And take an otherwise? It should me grieue.
But if I knew he would worke me that spight,
And in an other woman take delight:
Die sure he should. But he beares not the face
Like one that would so great a mischiefe worke:
His birth, his valour, and his comelie grace,
Show that in him such treason doth not lurke:
And me assure he will me not deceaue,
Nor once forget the good he shall receaue,
Thereby from me. Yet first he shall me plight
His faith and troth (according to the lawes)
To marrie me, and keepe his couenant right.
Why then am I in feare without a cause▪
To take this matter presently in hand,
And not delay it off, nor lingring stand?
Iason shall thinke himselfe much bound to me,
And gladly for his wife will me retaine,
And I thereby much honoured shall be
Of all the people, which as now remaine
Within the rich and fertile land of Greece,
For helping them to win the Golden fleece.
Shall I then leaue my Father and my kin,
And houshold Gods (to whome such loue I beare)
My natiue soile and all that is therein,
And with a stranger saile I know not where?
Yea: these, and all that ere I haue, why not?
My Father's hard, my Countries rude God wot.
The greatest good vnto my selfe will fall,
For that the things which I shall now forsake,
I may full well but meerely trifles call,
If I to those compare them which I take.
For Graecians safetie honoured shall I bee,
And dwell in Towns that are both rich and free.
Whose fame doth freshly florish euery where,
Mongst people that in liberall Arts excell,
And which of all things else I hold most dere,
And for all earthly treasure would not sell:
I shall enioy King Aesons Princely Son,
Whom had I once vnto my husband won.
Most happy then I would esteeme my state,
And thinke my selfe to be aduanst so hie,
That with my head I should be eleuate,
Boue all the starres within the Christ all skie:
But men report that rocks in Seas doe meet,
And gainst nature againe in sunder fleet.
And how Caribdis vtter enemie
To ships, doth cause the waues them ouethrow,
When vnder saile they chance to passe thereby.
And Scilla, with whome Dogs doth euer go:
Out of Cicillia gulfe comes barking out,
And puts such as saile by in feare and doubt.
But what skils that, if I enioy my loue,
And in my Iasons armes may safelie sleepe,
It shall me not in any wise once moue,
Though seas be nere so dang'rous, foule, & deepe:
For while that I my louer may embrace,
Nought can make me to feare in any case.
And if that feare should chance to trouble me,
And make my mind perplexed therewithall,
My feare should onlie for my husband be.
Dar'st thou him then so boldlie husband call?
Pretendest thou Medea title gaie
To thy offence? thou rather shouldst say naie,
And see what ledwnes thou dost go about,
Thereby to shunne the mischiefe dangerous,
Before that worse vnto thee chance fall out.
She had no soonner in that sort said thus,
But shamefastnes and feare that by her staid,
Made franticke loue to flie away dismaid.
And raging mood thereof was well alaid,
And for the present time put cleane to flight,
Till spying Aesons sonne the flames that staid,
And seemed as they had been quenched quight,
Did kindle, and againe began to show,
And with their heat did cause her cheeks to glow.
And scarlet blood within his face did rise.
And like vnto a sparke of fire that's hid
In ashes, with the whisking wind out flies,
And by that meanes againe is kindled.
So did her loue which then was put to flight,
Renew his former force at Iasons sight.
For when she did behold his comelie Grace,
And Princelie port, she judged him to bee,
Much fai [...]er, and more beautifull in face
Then ere she had, when first she did him see.
For which her iudgement sure it doth behoue
To beare with her, because she was in loue.
Thus as Medea wrought to ease her griefe,
She spun the web of her aduersitie,
For fortune making shew to send reliefe,
Procures her time her mind to certefie,
And to vnfold the secret of her heart
To Iason, though it bred her woe and smart.
For thus it chanst, when Phoebus bright did shine,
In th'afternoone at hottest time of day,
As he began then Westward to decline,
And by degrees his feruent heat delay.
King Oeta finding time conuenient,
In all the hast for faire Medea sent,
And willed her with present speed to go
Into the hall Prince Iason t'entertaine,
And vnto him all curtesie to sho:
Whereby she did occasion fit obtaine,
(When time conuenient serued) to discouer
Her hearts desire vnto her new found louer.
For when as she her father had espied,
With Graecian Knights in earnest speech to bee,
And that each man his mind was occupied,
To passe the time. When no man did her see,
In courteous wise to Iason she drew neere,
And he to her the like with ioyfull cheere.
And being set together in that sort,
With louelie looke and countenance bening,
Medea glad and willing t'yeeld the fort,
And parle first, well weighing euery thing,
With sighs beheld Prince Iason in the face,
And vnto him declar'd her doubtfull case.

CHAP. VI.

¶ How Iason by the onely helpe and aduise of (Medea King Oetas Daughter) enamored of him, acchieued the conquest of the Golden Fleece.

PRince Iason ere I speake to thee (said shee)
I charge thee by thy valour and thy might,
Thy courtesie, and true nobilitie,
And as thou art a stout and hardy Knight,
Desiring much t'aduance thy noble fame,
By valiant acts, and t'magnifie thy name.
That these my words (with rash opinion)
Thou dost not censure to proceed of guile,
Deceitfulnesse, nor yet presumption,
Nor from a womans heart that's full of wile.
In that I am so bold and do not spare,
My mind to thee at large now to declare,
Without all manner doublenes of heart.
First praying thee vnto my words giue eare,
And marke full well what I to thee impart,
And faile thou not the same in mind to beare:
For what so e're I say it's for thy weale,
As she that meanes in truth with thee to deale.
Two things there are that makes me thus proceed,
(That's seruent loue, and common courtesie,
Which both in one so fully are agreed)
To worke thy good, that nought I can deny,
Nor yet conceale within my breast from thee,
As ere we part, most plainly thou shalt see.
For first I thinke of very courtesie,
That vnto strangers men should take delight,
To shew all kind of liberalitie,
(As being thereto bound of ancient right)
Both in their words and works, & them defend
From harmes, as much as power doth extend.
And for my part (braue Iason) cause I see
Within thy thoughts the signes of worthines,
I will not faile as much as lies in mee,
To further thee with hearty carefulnes:
(And with that word she fetcht a sigh full kind,
For him that so did sticke within her mind.)
For thy sweet sake my heart within doth bleed,
Because thou seek'st without aduisednes,
The fleece of Gold to win, and to proceed
Therein of youth and wilfull hardines:
Which enterprise who so doth take in hand,
Is sure of death, and can it not withstand.
So perillous and dreadfull is the venter,
That pen nor tongue can well declare the same,
For doubtlesse who so ere therein doth enter,
Finds nought but death, and after to his shame.
Whereas he thinkes his honour to aduance,
Report shall blase his foule & wretched chance.
So much the end is found to be contrary,
Vnto the first beginning of th'aduenter,
For at the last he's certaine to miscarry,
Though't first it seemes an easie thing to enter:
For wit of man by engin, force, or might,
Although he had experience great to fight.
And had his armes most strong and passing sure,
And knew how to defend himselfe full well,
And were well breathed long time to endure,
And nere so much in valour did excell:
Or what so euer weapon he could bring,
To strike, to thrust, to shoot, or else to fling.
All were in vaine, it could auaile him nought,
For neither force, deuice, nor subtilly,
Nor any other thing what ere he sought,
Could saue his life but sure he were to die:
For earthly meanes may him no way defend,
Vnlesse that I mine ayd to him should lend.
Wherefore of thee I haue compassion,
That wilfully would'st cast thy selfe away,
And of thy youth with pure affection,
I should bewaile the losse both night and day:
If that thou dost with folly seeke to trie
This dangerous act, where nought but death doth lie▪
Thy Princely, rare, and noble progeny,
Vnworthy is t'abide so cruell end;
For certainly it may none other be,
If thou effect'st the thing thou dost pretend:
Vnlesse that to my counsell thou wilt list,
For none therein but I, can thee assist.
Alas good Iason rest thy selfe content,
And let thy noble courage yeeld herein,
And to my counsell see thy heart be bent,
Which if thou wilt before thou doest begin,
I dare be bold to sweare thou shalt preuaile,
And of thy hoped victory not faile.
Whereby thou maist eternall praise obtaine,
And in fames booke of Register be plast,
And shalt be sure the Golden fleece to gaine,
(Which thou to win so great desire hast)
In spight of Mars, and all that thee withstand,
If that by my aduise thou take't in hand.
Wherefore to me I pray thee giue consent,
And that full soone, if thou pretend'st to speed,
And to my counsell see thou dost assent,
Which can thee helpe with all thou stand'st in need.
Speake valiant Knight if that thou wilt by me,
In this thy hard aduenture ruled be.
Prince Iason for reply said Lady deare,
I can but yeeld you thanks for your good will,
And when occasion serues (as shall appeare)
I will not faile with all my power and skill,
(Mine own hearts Queene & Lady Soueraigne)
In full effect by action to explaine.
How much the loue you vnto me do show,
Shall bind me while that life in me doth rest,
To be your Knight, at your command to go,
To ride, and run, and thinke my selfe most blest,
To be esteem'd your true and faithfull man,
T'obay your hest in all that ere I can.
With hearty zeale and true affection,
That thus with so great kindnes thinkes on me,
And of my life haue such compassion,
As that you seeme in heart perplex't to be
For my mishap, which maketh me of right,
To bind my selfe to be your faithfull Knight
While life doth last. And that more specially,
Because you take such care me to protect,
And to vouchsafe with great benignity,
Your counsell and your aid in each respect,
To him that neuer fauour did afford
Vnto your Grace, in action, thought, or word.
And more to bind me vnto you in heart,
Your words so kind so much enflame my sence,
That Cupid with his piercing fiery dart,
Hath forst me yeeld (and dare not make defence)
Against the same, least I should seeme ingrate▪
To her that hath such care of my estate:
Without request or motion on my part,
Nor yet in any manner once deseru'd.
Then sith it doth proceed from out your heart,
To take such care that I should be preseru'd:
I vow to you vpon my faith most sure,
In seruing you as long I will endure
As life doth last, and nere therein shall faile,
Whereto I sweare and plight with all my troth,
That life nor death shall any way preuaile
To change my heart, for I would be full [...]ath
That foule vntruth should enter in my mind,
To do you wrong that showes your selfe so kind.
Few words therefore to vse I do pretend,
And meane my vow and promise to renew,
That till that Parcas doth my liues thread end,
I will remaine most constant vnto you:
Hap good or ill, my resolution's bent,
T'effect and do your will and your intent.
Well then (said she) let wisedome rule thy mind,
And so forecast with care and diligence,
The dangers that are insident to find,
If wilfully thou followest thy pretence:
And thinke not lightly to orepasse the same,
By fond conceit to win perpetuall fame.
For thus much I dare well affirme for true,
That though thou dost for honur tak't in hand,
Nought but dishonour can thereof ensue,
Which thou by no meanes shalt nor mayst with­stand:
For who against the powers diui [...]e can fight,
Or once resist their all sufficient might?
And this is sure, that he which doth desire
The fleece to win by valour and by might,
Shall nere attaine to that he doth aspire,
But worke his owne dishonour, shame and spight▪
For though at first fortune doth seeme thy [...]iend,
Be well assur'd shee'll crosse thee in the end.
For who so euer seeks to take in hand
This action strange, can by no meanes escape
The fiery flames, nor yet the force withstand
Of those two brasen Buls, which when they gape▪
Such furious flashes out their throats do send,
That folly t'were against them to contend▪
For much more dreadfull is their dangerous fight,
(Then lightning which down frō the skies doth fall,
Before the thunder-clap on earth doth light,
Which often battreth Castle, Towne, and wall)
For vnto ashes men they will consume.
Wherefore beware and see thou not presume,
The Ram t'assaile, least thou thy labour loose,
But take aduise and vse discretion
To leaue the same, while thou hast time to choose
How to preserue thy honour and renowne.
And striue not to aduance thy worthinesse,
By follie, and by too much hardinesse▪
And cast thy selfe away, where otherwise
Thou maist preserue thy life from danger great.
If thou dost [...]arken now to mine aduise▪
Whereto I would thee willingly entreat:
And therfore think what answere thou wilt make,
Before thou dost this danger vndertake.
Medeas speech thus ended as you heare,
Iason therewith did grow impatient,
And said, mine onely loue and Ladie deare,
Is this your mind, your will, and your intent,
To counsell me to leaue mine enterprise,
And staine my name and fame with cowardise?
A coward might I well be thought and deem'd,
That should begin a thing to vndertake,
And could nor durst not bring it to an end▪
So men a common jest of me might make,
And giue report to my confusion,
That I of pride and meere presumption,
Had boasted I would do a thing in word,
Which when it came t'effect I durst no [...] venter.
Nay Lady deare I sweare vpon my sword,
I rather had in perill great to enter,
Of life and lim, then cowardly forsake
The enterprise I meane to vndertake.
Your counsell to this end is meerely vaine▪
And so good Lady mine I you entreat,
To leaue your care herein, for this is plaine,
What ere you say, no more of me you get,
But that I meane my purpose to effect,
And feare of danger vtterly reiect.
For it I should through faintnes of my heart,
Refraine from such an enterprise begun,
And from your Court and pleasant jsle depart,
Ere for mine honour some thing I had done:
While life doth last reproach would me pursue,
And shame eternall be mine onely due.
For through the world report ful soone would spread
That Iason did this conquest vndertake;
And that his heart was so possest with dread,
That he an end thereof durst neuer make:
But be assur'd it neuer shall be said,
That danger could yong Iason make afraid.
And there vpon my faith I you ensure,
I will performe the thing I haue begun,
As long as life and limbs of mine endure,
Although thereby no honour may be woone:
And that mine onelie guerdon should be death,
Yet had I rather yeeld my vitall breath,
Then be reproacht of cowardise and shame,
For worse report of man cannot be spread,
Then that he hath dishonoured his name,
It were much better for him to be dead:
For euery man should seeke and striue t'aspire,
To honours seat with heart and whole desire.
And though it were with losse of life and lim,
Before he would procure his owne disgrace,
And breed the meanes for men to laugh at him,
And so for shame be forst to hide his face:
Then be assur'd what euer I abide,
No danger shall me cause to start aside.
Then do I well perceiue your wilfull mind,
(Said she to him) and that you sooner chuse
Your life to present danger now to bind,
(And my good counsell vtterly refuse:)
Then to your selfe you'le reape perpetuall shame.
And yet it is in earnest, and no game,
With Monsters strange vnwarilie to deale,
And hazard life when as your choyce is free▪
And therefore I am mooued for your weale,
In heart and mind your follie great to see:
That leauing all aduise, discretion,
Counsell, and good deliberation,
You rather choose hard and cruell end,
And wilfullie vnto the same will goe,
Then yeeld vnto the counsell of your friend,
Which shewes that youth and courage ouerslow
Within your heart, & keepe your mind in awe,
And make you thinke your lust to be a law.
Which in the end will breed your woe and griefe,
If you persist as now you do pretend,
For be you well assur'd there's no reliefe,
From certaine death your bodie to defend:
For neither force nor humane wit can serue,
Your life in this great danger to preserue.
Wherefore in heart I purposelie am bent,
To seeke your good and find a remedie,
Whereby you may this perill great preuent,
So loath and grieu'd I am to see you die,
And rather then your fortune should be such,
I will my father (whome I loue so much)
And all my friends for euermore displease,
And vtterlie abandon them each one,
So that I may procure your ioy and ease,
Which certainly by me shall soone be done.
For setting care of all things else aside,
In this your need I meane to be your guide.
And for your sake I will my royall seat
And Princelie Pallace leaue with heart and will:
My honour too, which I esteeme so great,
Ile set asid▪ your pleasure to fulfill.
All this and more (if you to me be kind)
For you lie do, and that you'le bend your mind
To recompence the kindnes I deserue:
And thinke it not a thing of small esteeme,
From cruell death your body to preserue:
(Though you perhaps contrarilie may deeme)
But ne're the lesse I will so well ordaine,
By Art and skill of mine, betwixt vs twaine,
That fore that we from others shall depart,
I hope all shall be well. If you do rest
Vpon this point, that happen woe or smart,
To satisfie my mind you'le do your best.
And there vpon my aid to you ile lend,
And vndertake you shall th'aduenture end.
Good Ladie (said Prince Iason) [...]est content,
And be assur'd it is mine onelie cane,
To satisfie your will and whole intent,
And nothing to omit, nor yet to spare
My life nor lims, all perill to endure,
Your pleasure and preferment to procure.
Then friend (said she) refer to me the rest,
But first to me by faith you shall be bound,
And with your heart vnfain c [...]e protest,
That no vntruth in you there shall be found▪
And sweare you must to take me to your wife,
And hold me as your owne for tearme of life.
This is the thing that I of you require,
If you will doo't and hold your word with me.
Yet onething more I will of you desire,
That when to Greece you shall prepared be
To make returne, and readie to set saile,
To take me with you hence you will not faile.
And when your father dies, and you succeed
To raigne as King, see that you not forget
To shew your selfe most true in word and deed,
And let your heart on me be wholie set,
To maintaine me as my estate requires,
And seeke no change to please loues fond desires.
And while you liue haue in rememberance,
My courtesie to you in this your need,
And think with what great hap it was your chance,
To win my heart, when none but you could speed.
For be assur'd no man that liues hath might,
Against the Buls and Dragon fierce to fight.
Vnlesse of me he first be taught the way,
And meanes whereby the conquest to obtaine;
The which as now my heart will not denay
To tell to you, when we shall meet againe.
So much I do my selfe vnto you bind,
For which I aske of you but to be kind.
All this and more (said Iason) will I do,
And what so euer else you shall deuise;
And by my faith do bind my selfe thereto.
So much your face, and sweet intising eies,
And beautie rare (surpassing all that liue)
Haue moou'd my heartall honour you to giue.
Your bountie in like sort doth so exceed,
In that such care of my estate you haue,
That while I liue (how euer that I speed)
Ile be your faithfull Knight, (else do I eraue)
The Gods to send iust vengeance for desert,
If I to you shall beare [...] fained heart.
Conditionallie, that you to me fulfill
The promise which it pleaseth you to make,
And as you say, so vse your Art and skill,
That in the thing which I now vndertake,
I may preuaile and win the victorie,
My name and fame t'aduance perpetuallie.
For truth to say, your beautie is so great,
Surpassing all that euer I did see;
That well it doth deserue the supreame seat,
In beauties bower and highest dignitie,
Excelling beauties all as much and more,
As doth the Rose surpasse each other flore,
Which in the Summer mongst the leaues full green,
(When as the spring hath forced out to flow,
The moisture that had long enclosed been,
And caus'd the soile that'▪ barren greene to show:
And trees & leaus that winters blasts made bare
With buds and blossomes new refreshed are:
And euerie garden's fild with flowers store,
Of sundrie kinds most pleasant to the eie;
And makes the buds Dame Flora to adore,
With ioyfull and melodious harwonie:
And that the heaueulie dew doth moist each place,
And to his sundrie colour yeeld his grace.)
Doth shew to be the fairst of euerie one.
So nature hath you made with good aduise,
As she that should deserue the same alone
Of beautie, and thereof to beare the prise,
Aboue all earthlie and each mortall thing,
And of all bountie great to be the spring.
As you surpasse without comparison,
All others what so ere on earth do liue,
For wisedome, kindnesse, and discretion,
The praise whereof I cannot choose but giue
Vnto your grace, as she that vnto me,
So courteous and so kind I find to be.
For if in this extreame you had me left,
I were for euer vtterlie vndone▪
And of all aid and succour cleane bereft.
But your exceeding bountie hath so wonne
And ouercome my heart, that while I liue,
To pleasure you, my life for you ile giue.
Sith that to aid me now when I haue need,
You spare not your good will to me t'extend,
In liew whereof if I should shew the deed,
Of an vngratefull or vnthankfull friend,
I might of right be counted obstinate,
And held a foole, so to with stand my fa [...]e▪
For he that in extremitie should lie▪
And knew how to relieue or ease his want,
And would refuse a Ladies curtesie▪
I thinke of wit he should be very scant,
And in the ship of fooles deserues to b [...]
Preferred and extold to highest degree▪
And therefore now I whollie do resigne,
Heart, body, life and lim, into your hand,
And till that death shall vitall thread vn [...]ne,
I will you not in any thing withstand.
And hereby oath I bind my selfe to be,
Your faithfull friend as you haue promist me.
And henceforth will not faile in ought t'obay,
What ere shall be your pleasure and your will,
At any time as well by night as day,
Till death shall with his dart my bodie kill:
Let this suffice to satisfie your mind,
That vnto you ile neuer prooue vnkind.
Medea hearing him protest and sweare,
So earnestly to be her faithfull Knight,
And that to her such loue he swore to beare,
She was in heart surprizd with such delight,
That for reply ere she from thence did go,
The secrets of her heart she did him sho.
And said, braue Prince, then will I soone ordaine
A way whereby we may together meet,
When we will with good leisure twixt vs twaine,
Take order in this case, and louely greet
Each other, and by holy Sacrament
Confirme our vowes with heart and true intent.
For that as now the time will not permit,
Nor yet affoord vs place of secresie,
But when night comes, when euening gins to shit,
In secret wise I will you certifie;
The time when as you shall your selfe conuay,
And come into my chamber by some way
In priuatenesse. Where to our great delight,
We may each other louingly embrace,
Which shall be when as glistring Phoebus bright,
Doth Westward wend, & yeeld dark night his place,
With thicke and gloomie clouds to ouer-shade.
Our Hemisphere, and cause the light to vade.
Which time (by fauour great which fortune sends
To louers arue) affoords conueniency
T'effect their wills, and likewise to them lends
Occasion how to speake in secresie.
Then as I say, my deare and louing frend,
To send for you I purposely intend,
To come to me, when as without all doubt,
In louing wise out minds we will vnfold,
And there determine how to bring about,
The thing whereof in part I haue you told.
And when we haue accomplished our will,
And of our pleasures had the scope and fill,
I will deuise how we may meet againe
In secret sort, when so it shall vs please,
(Who ere saith nay) and quietly obtaine
Our hearts delights, our comfort and our ease,
Which shall be when that Dame Lucine bright,
Doth walke abroad in darkest time of night.
For mighty Ioue who secrets all doth see,
Full well doth know my heart and my intent,
And how to you I will for euer be,
A faithfull friend, so much my mind is bent
To loue and honour you withall my hart,
If you will do the like for your owne part.
Wherewith Prince Iason lowlie did encline,
And said to her, Dame set your heart at rest,
And be assur'd I will my selfe combine
To you while life doth last. For I detest
To be accounted false in thought or deed
Vnto your Grace, how euer that I speed.
And though with painted words I cannot glose,
Nor yet with phrases fine perswade your mind,
I would not haue you thinke nor yet suppose,
In this my vow you shall me faithlesse find:
But while that breath doth in my corps remaine,
I will true loue within my heart retaine.
And to confirme my deed with heart and mind,
Lo here my hand and faith to bind the same,
Assuring you of certainty to find,
My ioue and zeale shall neuer merit blame:
And therewithall an end of speech to make,
Each for that time of th'other leaue did take.
Medea straight rose vp out of her place,
First hauing taken leaue in stately wise,
And with a braue and passing Princely grace,
With-drew her selfe as was her woonted guise,
Into her priuate chamber, where at will,
She might her mind with contemplation fill
Of her new loue, and find meanes how to frame
The thing which shee had purposed in heart,
Without disgrace or blot vnto her name:
Yet would she not to any one impart
The least conceit that rested in her mind.
Deuising how conveniently to find
The meanes to send vnto her dearest louer,
In secret wise, when night began t'appeare:
But loath she was her purpose to discouer,
Vnto her maids, so much she stood in feare
To be disgrac't, if they should it bewray.
Thus (as she thought) she past the long some day,
Still musing how to bring the same about,
And alwaies castng in her doubtfull head,
What lets to stay or stop it might fall out.
And so with flying fansies tost and led,
She rested sore perplext in griefe and woe,
Still walking in her chamber too and fro.
The mid-day gone and slide away full fast,
And Titan hauing fully run his race
From East to West, the Horison had past
So farre, that no man could perceiue his face,
Nor yet behold his glistring beames so bright,
As being cleane descended out of sight.
And Hiren with her mantle all of shade,
At th'euening shewd her darke & cloudy cheare,
In twy-light when the day began to vade,
And Hesperus with glistring streames t'appeare;
Amongst the twinckling starres about midnight,
Which to behold did breed no small delight.
Medea who perplexed all alone,
Sat counting euery hower of the night,
And secretly vnto her selfe did mone,
That she so long was absent from her Knight;
At last did find a meanes for to content
Her troubled head. And with a full intent,
Determined the same to bring about:
Although she kept it secret in her heart,
Which trembled like a leafe for feare & doubt,
Till hope stept forth, and as it is her part
Did comfort her and make her blith & glad,
But cherisht by feare she gan againe be sad.
Least her deuise which then she tooke in hand,
Might chance be crost, & she to shame be brought.
And thus twixt hope and feare she seem'd to stand,
Not knowing how t'effect the thing she sought:
But her affection, loue, and great desire,
Had set her heart and mind on such a fire
Of lust, to see and meet her louely Knight.
That hope did put her in some good conceit,
At last t'attaine her pleasure and delight,
But bashfulnes her mind had so beset,
That still she fear'd discouered to be,
And knew not how the same to remedy.
If fortune and the darksome cloudy night,
Had not procur'd her ease and chear'd her heart,
By filling it with ioy and great delight,
Wherewith sweet hope stept in & playd a part,
To pricke her forth, and caus'd her to deuise,
And calculate when that the Moone would rise,
And with her hornes that are of colour pale,
Appeare in skies at dead time of the night,
To shew her face vpon both hill and dale,
Whereof she found the course to fall out right,
A quarter of an hower after prime,
Which she perccaued well would fit the time.
And as she was full well beseen in Art,
She knew the body of the Moone to bee
Deckt over with new light in one forth part,
And passed had by order and degree,
After the time of her conivnction,
One or two signes by Computation:
And so the daies full seuen of her age.
Which time she being pierst with Cupids dart,
And in her loue did burne with cruell rage:
She gan to pr [...]e and listen in each part,
And to each dore and window had an eye,
If any one as then she could espy,
Within the Court that was not gone to bed,
Or any man to walke about the same.
So much her mind possessed was with dread,
To blemish or in ought t'impaire her fame.
The least and smalest stirring did procure,
Her panting heart a thousand woes t'endure.
For when she heard a whispering any where,
It was as ill as venome to her heart:
Such was her great impatience to beare
The least obiect that might her purpose thwart,
She wished all had slept full fast in bed.
This wofull life the longsome night she led,
And yet not any one the same might know,
So secretly she kept it in her mind,
Till full midnight when Cockes began to crow,
(Which orderly they doe obserue by kind.)
At which time when as all was husht and still,
To bring to passe her purpose and her will,
An old decrepit woman out she sought,
(Who in such case experience wanted none)
To whom in breefe she doth declare her thought,
And said she did depend on her alone,
To bring the thing she purposed about,
(For skill & age makes thē forecast each doubt.
Their yeares to them so much experience show,
And in their mind such subtilty infuse,
That they of loue the slights and wiles do know,
And counterminds against them all can vse)
To her Medea shewd her whole desire,
From point to point, and doth his helpe require,
To take the charge on her to ease her smart.
Which at that time she said encreased so,
And to reioyce her faint and troubled heart,
With present speed she willed her to go
To Iasons chamber where as then he lay,
And him to her in secret wise conuay.
Which she forthwith (as ready to fulfill)
Her charge receau'd, did presently effect,
And as it was hir Ladies hest and will,
(No point of hir commission to neglect,)
With soft and easie pace she went her way,
And brought him vnto her without delay.
When as the Cocke th' Astrologer of night,
With chearefull voice at twelue began to crow,
And gainst his brest his wings to beat and smite,
The time and season of the night to show.
To war [...]e those that in their beds do rest,
To rise betimes, and too much sleepe detest.
Medea to attend vpon her Knight,
Stood ready to receiue him at the dore,
(As shee that onely plast her hearts delight,
Her saint in her most secret shrine t'adore)
Full little lust she had as then to sleepe,
Her care was onely watch for him to keepe.
Prince Iason to her chamber being brought,
Not once perceiud nor seene of any wight.
Medea hauing got the thing she sought,
In heart was so possest with great delight,
That secretly she led him on the way,
Into her Close [...], where she made him stay.
The woman seeing them so closely plast,
Of three made two (as she that knew the game,)
And out the chamber went in all the hast,
Well knowing that hir Lady would the same,
And for to gaze and stare vppon the moone,
Walkt in the court, and left them there alone.
Wherewith Medea shut the chamber fast,
And to her Iason presently did call.
(But as mine Author saith she first had plast
Wax candles burning cleare on euery wall.
Which made the place as bright as if the sunne,
Had shon therein at twelue a clocke at noone.)
Then to her chest she did with speed repaire,
Which framed was of Christall pure and cleare,
Out of the which she tooke an Image faire,
Of fine and beaten gold as did appeare.
Which hallowed was, and consecrate withall
To mighty Ioue, whom they their God did call.
Which Image vnto Iason she did beare,
Desiring him in solemne wise to take
His oath vpon the same, and there to sweare
What ere befell he would hir not forsake,
But take and keepe her for his wedded wife,
From that time forth continuing all her life,
With stedfast heart and faith inviolate,
And that she should maintaind and cherisht bee
According to her honour and estate.
(For till that time the story saith that shee
Had liv'd a Virgin vndefiled and chaste,
In deed, & thought, though then she wholly cast
Her loue and whole affection on that Knight.)
Iason vpon the Image hand did lay,
And swore to her by Ioue the God of might,
He would her will in every thing obay,
And truely keepe his word and promise past
Perpetually while life of his did last.
(And yet he did his faith soone falsify,
For all the protestations he had made,
Were vaild and hid with fraud and flattery.
And proved cleane contrary as he sayd.
And so her loue, her true intent and mind,
In th'end were crost by him that prou'd vnkind.
For though that constant loue he did pretend,
And swore thereto, yet secretly in hart
He ment nought lesse as well it prou'd in th'end,
And fainedly did play a double part,
With her that simply shipwracke seem'd to make
Of all her weale, and onely for his sake.
Could she haue don more for a man then so?
To loose hir Crowne and royall dignitie,
Hir Countrey, friends, and kindred to forgo,
Reiecting wealth and all felicitie,
Hir honor, and hir Princely name and fame,
Onely to shield thee from disgrace and shame.
She that was borne and came of parentage,
So Royall, and so Princely by degree,
And should sncceed in all the heritage,
That Oeta had by regall dignitie.
At once did all those honors cleane forsake,
And vnto thee hir selfe did onely take.
Vpon meer hope thou wouldst her kindnes show,
She did abandon all the joyes she had,
And chose to liue in exile, and forgoe
With thee, hir natiue Countrey, and was glad
With all that losse thy loue so to obtaine.
Which she esteem'd aboue all earthly gaine.
It grieveth me thou provedst so vnkind,
Did she not saue and keepe thee from distresse,
Which thou by cruell death wast sure to find:
Had she not been thy guide: thou must confesse
That of thy conquest she was chiefe effect,
And couldst thou her so shamelesly reiect?
Her bounty was in each sort so declard,
And manifestly tryed in the end,
That truth to say, for thee she nothing spard,
Thy life from death, and danger to defend.
Which simply in few words now to explaine,
For me to take in hand it were in vaine.
For by her meanes the fleece of gold was won
And conquered by thee, which out of doubt,
Impossible had been for thee t'haue don,
If by her Art she had't not brought about.
For when thou knewst not how to effect thy will,
She did thee teach those Monsters strange to kill.
And furthermore thou canst it not deny,
That to redeeme thee from all pensiuenesse,
All earthly honors shee did cleane defie,
And left her father mourning in distresse,
For losse of his great treasure, and his Child,
Whereof by thee he onely was beguild.
Let women all by her example learne,
Not to beleeue nor credite men too soone,
But wisely seeke to find out and discerne
What minds they beare, and be not quickly woon,
Least that they fall into the like distresse
That faire Medea did, by carelesnesse.
She that accounted was to be so wise,
And deepely learned in Astronomy,
Could she not by her skill and Art surmise,
Nor yet foresee her fatall desteny?
Loue against Art in her did so prevaile,
That all her skill could her no whit availe.
She was too slow by calculation,
The figure of her breath and wofull fate
To cast, and know the constellation.
For want of care shee found it all too late.
Her Art it was false and deceiueable,
And in playne words wholy incredible.
For if thereby she could before haue knowne,
What fortune hard should vnto her befall,
She would not so her selfe haue overthrowne,
Nor haue indured such miserie and thrall,
As by the story men may plainely see,
Fell vnto her by this extremitee.
But first you shall behold and plainely see
How that she did proceed to effect her will.
For Iason having sworne fidelitie,
She gaue him leaue his pleasure to fulfill.
And that same night (as well you may suppose)
Her Maiden-head she willingly did lose.
(Great pitie twas that she was so deceau'd,
And yet she ment nought els but s [...]onestie,
For sure she thought and nothing els perceau'd,
But that his heart was set on loyaltie.
And that he would still hold her for his wife,
And keepe her so as long as he had life.
But thereof will I not as now dispute,
Yet one thing dare I sweare and will maintaine
Gainst any one, that will the same confute,
Though that they then agreed like, lovers twaine.
Their minds were different and contrary cleane,
For though that she plain truth & loue did meane,
In honest sort intending that was just:
(As jnnocent and harmelesse Virgins doe.)
He to performe his fowle and fleshly lost
With faire and flattering speeches did her woe.
Yet with pretence contrary to hir mind.
But pittie t'was she prou'd to him so kind.
As so to trust vnto his curtesie,
Headlong to runne in danger, woe, and smart,
And be bereau'd of her Virginitie.
But women are so pitifull in heart,
That fore a man himselfe for lo [...]e should kill,
They will not spare to grant him all his will,
And rather saue his life then he should die.
Medea so not thinking what might fall,
What ere he did, she would him not deny;
But his desire, his lust, and pleasures all
Obaid with all her power, will, and might,
Wherein she tooke such pleasure and delight.
That fore she wist, the night was overpast,
And beautifull Aurora gan t'appeare.
At which time Iason holding her full fast
Within his armes, said Loue and Lady deare,
Its now high time for me to hast away,
And get me hence for soone it will be day.
See you not how the light begins to spring,
And day appeares with faire and crimson face,
Listen and heare how Birds begin to sing,
And bids vs part for [...]are of some disgrace.
But fore I go, let me in hearty wi [...]e
Of you require your counsell and advise,
What I shall doe mine enterprise t'achiue,
And bring to passe the thing I so desire?
Speake Lady deare doe thou my heart [...]eviue,
And for thy sake jle venter through the fire.
That don. I meane with present speed to make
Returne to Greece, and thee with me to take.
Where thou shalt liue in princely dignitie,
And thereof be thou not in any doubt.
Thither I say shalt thou conducted be,
After I haue my conquest brought about.
Tellthen with speed this worke, how that I may
Bring to effect before that it be day.
To whom she spake and said as you shall heare,
Iason my loue and only hearts delight,
Perswade thy selfe thou art to me more deare
Then tongue can speake, or pen devise to write,
And therefore will I bend both wit and skill,
To teach thee how thou shalt obtaine thy will.
And bring to passe the conquest of the Ram,
By shewing thee the dangers of the Isle,
And how t'avoid the perill of the same,
Therefore abide and stay a little while,
And find thou shalt my words and deeds t'agree
In all and euery thing I vowe to thee.
And therewithall out of her bed she rose,
And in a costly coffer went to looke,
Where as she vsd her treasure to inclose,
From whence a silver Image forth she tooke,
(Which she did bring vnto him in her hand,)
That vertue had, and power to withstand
All Magicke Art, and cunning Sorcerie,
And to vndo jnchantments strange and rare,
Which was devised by Astronomy.
At such an howre (as those that skilfull are,
In starres and planets) know full well to chuse,
(Such Images the ancient Clarks did vse,
When as they sought by magicke Art to bring,
The strange effect [...]s of Incantations
Vnto an end. As Ptolomy the King
Of Egyt land, and other nations
We read haue done, and by their learned skill,
Effected many wonders at their will.
This Image she did Iason will to beare
In secret wise about him, till that hee
His enterprise had don, and nothing feare,
But his desire should well effected bee.
According to th'instructions he should haue,
Next oyntment pure to him likewise she gaue
To keepe him from the force of fier and flame,
The which the Buls out of their mouths wold throw
(More sweet then balme) & wild him with the same
His body to annoint from top to toe.
And so he need not feare the flames so great,
Would, should, or could by any wayes him let.
A Ring of gold then vnto him she gaue,
Wherein a stone of value great was set,
That vertue had him to preserue and saue
From venome, and the force thereof to let.
That vgly Serpents breath might not annoy
His valiant heart, nor yet the same destroy.
(Within this stone an other vertue rare,
And strange was found enclos▪d therein to lie,
For who so ere the same about him bare,
And in his hand did hold it secretly,
From all mens sight invisible should goe,
And no man could him see, perceiue, nor know
Those stones as ancient Authors do declare,
Are onely found in Cicile Is [...]e to be:
And Uirgill writes that Uenus hauing care
To saue her Son Aeneas, when as he
By Sea vnto the Isle of Carthage went,
One of those precious stones vnto him sent,
And then againe to Iason she betooke,
A writing that to him should much availe,
Which foulded was in manner of a booke.
And willed him to see he did not faile,
If he desired happely to speed,
With great devotion all the same to read
Ere he the Ram did touch, in any wise,
With further charge he should not vndertake,
Nor venter to effect his enterprise,
Before he did his Supplication make,
And on his knees with humble heart and will,
Beseech the Gods his prayer to fulfill
(Therein containd.) And lowly of them craue
To pittie his estate, and from distresse
And danger great his body then to saue,
And further loue vnto him to expresle,
And for his best and surest remedy,
To saue and keepe him in extreamity.
A Viall full of liquor forth she brought,
The whith all feare of danger set aside,
She willed him when with the Bulles he fought,
As oft as with their jawes they gaped wide,
He should it cast into their mouthes with speed,
That done, to stand in feare he should not need
That they could hurt or harme him any way,
For that their jawes together fast would cleaue,
So as of force they must to him obay,
Then might he them of power cleane bereaue,
And do with them what ever that him list,
For by that meanes they could him not resist.
This said when she had shew'd all her intent,
In every thing how that he should proceed
To scape the dangers that were incident,
It in th'effect he would but take good heed,
They did agree and hold it for the best,
To part as then ere men out of their rest
Awaked were, (for then it waxed day,)
And beautifull Aurora gan t'arise.
And shew her pleasant face in morning gray)
And that no man should any thing surmise,
Or of them haue the least suspision,
In twilight ere the Sun on earth had shon,
They tooke their leaues & parted each from other,
(With kisses sweet as lovers vse to doe
When as in secret wise they meet together.)
And he out of the chamber straight did goe,
And left her still in bed, whereas she lay,
In hope to find her there an other day.
And being gon from her without delay,
No longer time to spend nor to neglect,
Withall the speed he could he went that day
Vnto the King, his conquest to effect,
And bring the thing to passe for which he came,
And in this sort he did effect the same.
When as the clowds with crimson coloure red,
At rysing of the Sun began t'appeare,
And early in the East themselues did spread.
And when the Larke with glad and joyfull cheare,
And pleasant notes salutes in morning gray
Anrora faire, all th'opening of the day:
(Which orderly fore rising of the sunne,
Is wont t'enchase the clowdy darksome night)
When faire Diana bright her course had runne.
And Titan with the comfort of his light,
And brightnes of his beames ore covered had,
Each verdant hill and valey, and had made
The fragrant flowers with comfortable show,
To spread their leaues and lift their heads on hie.
Iason with all his company did goe
Vnto the King, (who in great maiestie)
As then in councell sat accompanied
With many Lords, and Knights on cuery side.
And when that he into his presence came,
with courage bold his Maiestie he praid
To graunt to him the conquest of the Ram,
As he before had promised: and said,
Sith that his comming thither purposely
Was that he might that strange adventure trie.
He would as then his vow performe, and all
That there vnto belongd without delay
By him should be fulfild, what ere should fall,
Yea though it were his ruine and decay.
Protesting that death neare should dant his hart,
Nor moue him once to play a cowards part.
Nor any way to doe his honor wrong.
And therefore prayd the King in humble wise,
The time therein no longer to prolong,
To grant to him that valiant enterprise,
That in the same he might his fortune trie,
To win it, or couragiously to die.
When Iason thus had spoken to the King,
And he the while attentiuely gaue eare,
And did in mind confider every rhing,
And all the words and arguments that were
Aledg'd by him. And saw no feare could daunt
His hautie heart, he was content to graunt
To his request, though much against his will▪
And sayd, sith that he saw he neads would stand
Vnto his vow, he would his mind fulfill,
And presently without delay command
That his desire should straight performed bee.
And yet he sayd, I am abasht to see
That thou w [...]th so great wilfulnesse wilt run
Vnto thy death, and be the onely cause
Of thy decay, when as thou maist it shun,
(The which thou oughst to doe by natures lawes)
For men will put the blame in me and say,
That I by Princely power and force might stay
Thy course, and so by wrong opinion,
And populer report would lay on mee
The onely cause of thy destruction,
Which God forbid should ever hap to thee.
My counsell therefore is thou shouldst aduise
Thy selfe heerein, and doe it not dispise.
For better tis thine honor to retaine,
And safely and securely to retire
Therewith into thy natiue soyle againe,
Then with vaine hope and over fond desire,
So wilfully to seeke to take in hand,
An enterprise which no man can withstand▪
This is my doome, my counsell, and advise,
Be ruld thereby, and shun thy cruell fate,
Refuse it not I say if thou beest wise,
Least thou repent when as it is too late.
But if thou dost persist and wilt not bend
Thine eares to mine advise. The God [...] defend,
And saue and keepe thy life what ere befall,
And vnto them Ile pray with great desire,
To be thy guide and shield from dangers all,
That thou maist from that enterprize retire,
In safety vnto thy land againe,
Without whose aid be sure thou shalt be slaine.
And so (though grieud) to see, I cannot stay
Thy youthfull fond desires from th'enterprize,
Ile hold my tongue for more I cannot say,
But wish thou hadst been ruld by mine advise,
And to the Gods thy enterprize commend,
Beseeching them good fortune to thee send.
When as the King to Iason had thus said,
And by no manner reasons he did vse,
Could draw him from his course, not once dismaid,
He did his counsell vtterly refuse.
And humbly kneeling downe vpon his knee,
With Knightly grace did thanke his maiestie,
That he vouchsaft to haue such speciall care
Of him, and so to pitie his estate,
And therewithall such favor to him bare,
That fearing he should proue vnfortunate,
And end his daies in that strange enterprize,
To keepe him from't had giuen him that advise.
But yet (said he) your grace shall vnderstand,
For th'enterprse which I now vndertake,
And mind by force of armes and valiant hand
T'effect the same, I will it not forsake▪
For no mans counsell nor perswasion,
Shall turne me from my resolution.
But as the law and statute hath decreed,
Which in this case is made to be obserud,
I will therein couragiously proceed,
If that my life from danger be preserud:
But whatsoere befalls Ile take th'adventer,
And first (said he) before that I do enter
Into the same, herein this Princely place,
And presence of his noble audience,
I do protest vnto your royall grace
That no man can against you take offence,
If that I die in this mine enterprize,
Because I do refuse your good advise.
And of my selfe doe onely tak't in hand,
Reiecting any counsell whatsoere,
And therefore doe protest thereto to stand,
And without dread or any manner feare,
Vnto the Gods my selfe I doe commit,
(Hap life or death) and what they shall thinke fit
T'ordaine for me, I will accept the same
And take it in good part what ere it be,
And neither them nor you therefore will blame,
But willingly will beare th'extremitie,
And thereof I my full account do make,
And so as now (sayd he) my leaue I take,
First of your grace, as dutie doth me bind,
And then of all this noble audience,
And so with louing countenance and kind,
Farewell vnto them all, he went from thence,
And downe vnto the water side did go,
T'effect his charge as I to you well sho.
When Titan with the fervor of his heate,
And brightnes of his beanes had driuen away,
The Roseat deaw that flowers and hearbs did weat,
About the howre of nine a clocke that day.
Iason put on a costly armour bright,
And joyfully like to a valiant Knight,
Vnto the water side did take his way,
And there alone into a boate did go,
Which purposely prepard for him there lay,
And with the same vnto the I sle did row,
Whereas the Bulls the golden Ram did keepe,
And presently vpon the shoare did leape.
And making fast the boat vnto the strand,
Withall the speed he could the next path-way
That he did find, marcht vp into the land,
Till wearied for a while and for to stay:
Downe on the grasse he sate, and there he thought
Vpon the course Medea had him taught,
To hold, when he should enter into fight
Against the brasen Bulls and Dragon fell,
And when like to a wise and valiant Knight,
He had a while thereon considered well,
He rose againe and went so long till hee
Came to the place where he the Bulls might see.
But there I must digresse and to you tell,
That when he first the enterprize began,
Medea grieu'd, into such passion fell,
That her faire face became both pale and wan,
And with a grieued countenance and sad,
She sat and wept and such great sorrow made,
That all her face and clothes bedewed were
With teares, that from her christall eies did fall,
Which onely did proceed of griefe and feare
By her conceiu'd, when she to mind did call,
What danger he might cast himselfe into,
If carelesly he should forget to do
As she had sayd, and taught him ere he went,
And for that cause she was so grieud in mind,
That nothing could her please nor giue content
Vnto her heart, the which no rest could find,
For sobbing, and for sighthing till in th'end,
Into a Terret hie she did assend.
On top whereof there stood a pinacle,
From whence (the aue being cleare and faire,) she might
Without all let or any obstacle
Behold and see her deare and loving Knight:
And there with teares whichout her eies then ran,
To speake vnto her selfe she thus began.
My dearest friend sweet Iason thou that art
To me so great a comfort and delight,
And th'onely joy and pleasure of my hart,
If that it were within thy power and might,
To know what griefe for thee as now I feele,
Thou wouldst to me continue true as steele.
Meanewhile withall my heart I wish and pray
The gods to make thy enterprise to thee,
So fortunate and prosperous this day,
That thou therein a conquerer maist be.
And safe and sound returne with euery member
To me againe. And that thou maist remember
To do as I thee taught in each respect,
And to obserue it orderly and well,
And nothing therein any wise neglect.
That so thine honor (which doth now excell)
May more and more encrease. Which vnto me
The greatest joy that ere I had would be.
For if to thee ought happen should amisse,
Then might I say fare well my hearts delight,
Farewell my health, farewell my worldly blisse,
Farewell my mirth, farewell my loving Knight,
Farewell my fortune and mine onely joy,
And welcome grefe, displeasure, and annoy.
And in this sort she stood, and their she staid,
While Iason fought against the Monsters fell,
Who comming to the place was halfe afraid,
To see the Bulls cast fire like fiends of hell
Out of their mouths. But to withstand the power,
And force thereof, his body was allore
Annointed with an oyntment precious,
That able was to keepe him from the flame
And fury of that fier dangerous:
Which from their mouthes so furiously then came,
Which otherwise had been impossible,
(For that it was exceeding terrible.)
Or to escape the huge and monstrous smoake
Within the aire, did rise so thicke and darke,
That it was able any man to choake.
Had not Medea taught him how to warke,
And how to shon each danger whatsoere,
By vertue of the Image he did beare,
For by the same his courage so surpast,
That when the Bulls with open throat did gape,
And fier out of their mouthes most fierce cast,
He did their furie easily escape,
And And all th'infection of the troubled aire.
Soone cleansd & made it show both bright & faire.
For gainst the fowle and stinking smoake and fume
Which round about the aire so thicke did flie,
And able was mans body to consume,
The Image was a perfect remedy.
And more to keepe his mind from feare & dread,
He often times within his booke did read.
For that the prayer so great of vertue was,
That it could saue him from all wretchednesse,
Yet for a further suretie in that case,
And to preserue his life from all distresse,
The liquor he into the mouthes did cast
Of both the Bulls, which closd their throts ful fast.
And by the vertue thereof had so glu'd
And shut them vp, that presently he staid
The filthy smoake, and it so well eschu'd,
That all the thicke and foggy clowds decayd
And vanished away, the christall skie,
Began t'appeare with faire and chrimson die.
Which don he boldly ventured to take
And draw the Bulls forth by their hornes full sone,
Who then gainst him durst no resistance make.
Which he no sooner had performd and done,
But straight he yoakt, & to the plow thē bound,
And draue them forth to eare and til the ground,
Wherein they wrought so well, and were so tame,
That what he would, they did, and neuer staid,
And as he was enioyned to the some,
They plowd the ground, and it in furrowes laid,
In such good sort, and made it smoth & plaine,
That ready t'was t'receaue each kind of graine.
Then like a Champion boldly he did goe,
Vnto the Dragon fierce and monstrous,
Which was a beast most huge in shape and shoe:
Fowle, Horrible, and deadly venemous,
With scales as hard, and strong as any steele,
That dint of sword, or speare [...] could not feele.
Whose breath then plague was more contagious,
T'effect therewith the cleare and pleasant skie:
And his strong poyson so outragious,
That whosoere it toucht, was sure to die.
And from his mouth such flames of fier did flow,
That like a burning furnace it did show,
Or like the streames of lightning which from East
Into the West do reach, in time of heate:
So from the mouth of that most vgly beast
The flames of fier did come, and were so great,
And in young Iasons face made such a blaze,
That at the first it stroke him in a maze.
(But thinking on his Ring it was straight gone,
And he of feare and danger out of care,
For in the same there was a precious stone
Of great esteeme and vertue passing rare,
Which Isydore doth write is onely found
Within the rich and fertile Indian ground.
And further saith it must he kept f [...]ll close
About a man, or woman pure and cleane,
Or else it will the vertue wholy lose.
Of colour t'was a passing orient greene,
And power had all venom to destroy,
That it could not the bearer ought annoy.
Nor Serpent, Dragon, Adder, nor yet Snake,
Can hurt or harme by venom any way,
If that the same within your hand you take,
And it directly gainst their eye-sight stay.
For presently they cannot will nor choose,
But all their force and poyson they must loose.
And in this sort the vertue hauing wrought,
It presently doth burst in peeces small,
In Cicile whence this stone is like wise brought,
There is a worme (which they do B [...]s [...] call)
Most venomous, which when so ere they will
Make tame, or els seeke to destroy or kill,
They take a cane, at th'end whereof they bind
The precious stone and hold it to the sa [...]e
Of that small beast, and presently by kind
She doth no sooner see't, but in that place
The bowels bursting forth, it there doth die,
Such force is found in that rich stone [...]olie.
For nature that all things on earth doth frame,
And whose decree no mortall wight can moue,
Doth secretly direct and rule the same,
And by his power receaued from aboue,
Such force hath giuen to hearbs, to g [...]asse, to stone,
The causes why none knowes, but she alone.)
By vertue of this Ring and precious stone,
He boldly fought against the Dragon fell,
(In whome as then resistance there was none,
Although to fore it did in force excell)
And soone had him bereaued of his life,
And presently did end his cruell strife
With that great beast. Whereof exceeding glad,
With sword in hand he gaue him many a stroke,
And chopt his scales that on his backe he had,
As if he should haue hewd and feld an Oke,
And then cut of his head, and with all speed,
Tooke out his teeth, and vsed them for seed,
And presently without delay did sow
Them in the ground, the which he did constraine,
The fierce and cruell Bulls before to plow.
From which so rare and strange a kind of graine,
A fruite more strange did presently proceed,
For as the Gods by power divine decreed,
A company of armed Knights arose
Out of the ground, who sought without delay,
Each other as most sterne and cruell foes,
By dint of sword to murther, kill, and slay.
And their most furious combat neuer left,
Till each his foe of life had cleane bereft.
For by the Law it so ordained was,
That each his brother presently should kill,
And that not one of them aliue should passe
Out of that place, nor yet should worke his will
By force of armes, the victory t'obtaine
Against his foe, but all should dead remaine
Within the field. Such was the desteny
Of that strange race, which was no sooner don,
But Iason straight to take the Ram did trie,
And with a courage bold laid hand thereon.
(Wherein as then resistance none was found)
And by the hornes he puld it to the ground.
Then did he kill and sheare the golden fleece
Of from the backe, (for valor so much deem'd
That all the treasure in the Land of Greece,
To halfe the worth thereof was not esteem'd)
And with his prize he did not time delay,
But straight vnto the boate he tooke his way.
And rowed therein vnto the other Isle
Not farre from thence, whereas vpon the shore
Prince Hercules attended all the while,
Accompanied with many Grecians more,
Till that he had his conquest brought to passe,
And when that he mongst them arived was.
For ioy they lept and to their Gods did call,
And yeilded thanks for his most happy chance,
That he had so preserved been from thrall,
And to such honor did him then advance,
By Knight-hood great to win the golden Ram,
Out of the midst of burning fier and flame.
And fore Apollo fully had run out,
And compassed the earthly globe so faire,
Or from the East to west had gon about,
(For still he was perceaved in the aire)
Although with speed he did as then decline,
And on the Seas full watrishly did shine.
Iason withall his grecian Knights did goe
Vnto the King, with glad and chearefull face,
And vnto him the golden sleece did shoe,
The which to wim the Gods had gin him grace.
Whereat the King did seeme much to reioyce
In outward show, and with dissembling voyce.
Did welcome him vnto his Court againe,
Glad (as he said) that he so well had sped:
And more his outward joy therein t'explaine,
Into the Pallace by the hand him him led,
And entertained him with royall chere,
As if that no dislike in him there were.
And shewed pleasant countenance and face,
(As hipocrites can do when as they faine
And thinke on craft, and rather seeke disgrace
To him, whom flatteringly they intertaine
With outward smiling and dissembling show,
When inwardly they wish his overthrow.)
So at that time King Octes entertaind
Prince Iason with a friendly countenance,
And show of ioy that he so well had gaind
The golden fleece, his honor to aduance.
Although from heart his ioy did not proceed,
For inwardly with griefe it seemd to bleed.
That of the Ram he was dispoyled so
To his great losse, and whole confusion:
And that he must the golden fleece forgo,
Which in him bred a great division.
Twixt outward show, and his interior mind,
As oft we see and by experience find,
That many men of double heart and mind.
And of meere malice hid in their desire,
With smothed face such subtill shifts can find,
To take and couer closely vp the fire
Of envie, with the ashes of deceit,
That no man can their wicked purpose let.
But well were he that could their craft espie,
And know their meaning false and fraudulent,
Wherein nought else but trecherie doth lie,
For to betray the simple innocent.
And such as by no villany are led,
Nor in the paths of subtilty haue tread.
But when a man a smiling face doth make,
With outward show of loue, and speaketh kind,
They do his words and all his gestures take
To be th'effects of his interior mind.
So Iason held himselfe full well apaid,
Withall the King then did to him or sayd,
Svpposing that no grudge to him he bare.
And doubtles though the King was griued sore,
And had his heart possest with thought and care,
Cause he should loose the Ram for evermore.
It had more folly been for him to fret,
When as the same by no meanes he could let.
And for as then he could not will nor chose,
(Such and so great was his extremitie).
But that of force he must his treasure lose
He made a vertue of necessitie.
And gainst his will his mind he wholy bent
To welcome him, though t'were with discontent.
And with all kind of common curtesie,
From day to day to show his gentlenesse,
He feasted Iason and his company,
And not one signe of grutging did expresse,
Vntill the time that he did steale away,
And secretly his daughter thence convay.
Meane while the people ran In flockes apace,
From all and euerie part of Colchos Isle,
Vpon the golden Ram to starre and gase:
Which some admir'd, some others seme'd to smile,
Each one his verdit and his Iudgment gaue,
But to the same men no respect should haue.
For they are so vnconstant in their mind,
That with each blast they varry like a phane,
And as the mone (according to hir kind)
To day th'encrease, to morow they do wane▪
So much they are of nature flexible,
And altogether light and variable.
Some did reioyce that Iason spead so well,
And some admir'd his great and passing might:
And said he did in valor much excell,
That gainst the Bulls, and Dragon so could fight,
And conquering thē returnd thence safe & sonnd,
Which to effect till then none could be found.
Some grieu'd thereat, dislike it ve [...]erly,
And wholy did repine, that so it was:
Some others said t'was done by Sorcery.
Thus each cast forth his verdict in that case:
One saying this, an other praring that,
And every one of Iason seem'd to chat.
At last, as though she knew not of the chance,
Medea from her chamber did descend,
Glad at her heart, although in countenance,
A sad and heavy cheare she did pretend.
That no man might her secret joy conceaue,
Nor of her mind the least pretence perceaue.
And by her wise and good discretion,
Not any one a misse of her could deeme,
Whereby she did avoid suspition,
And euery one of her did well esteeme.
Her port, and cheare nought els did signifie,
But signes of griefe, although full secretlie
She smild to thinke how well her loue had sped.
Then closely vnto Iason she drew neare,
And that of them suspision none might breed,
With voice full low, she whispred in his eare▪
And willed him in any wise to see
He did not faile with her at night to bee.
For that she sayd she would with him confer
Of matters that concernd them very neere,
Which at that time of force she must defer
To let him know, till that he met her there.
Which he suspecting, when as night came on.
Vnto his chamber went, where all alone
He found her sitting there, but not asleepe.
But wishing with her heart (as I do gesse)
By her straight watch which she as then did keepe,
With him to parle in great holinesse,
Of matters of deepe contemplation,
For she was moued with devotion.
To celebrate Dame Venus memory▪
And for her sake a Requiem to say
With him alone in her oratory.
(And not as foolish hipocrits doe pray
In open streets, that men may them commend,)
The time they did not passe, nor vainely spend,
For glory of the world, nor any laud
Of mortall wights, but closely all alone
Betweene themselues, not thinking any fraud,
And without any light of Sunne or Moone.
That longsome night they past and did not rest,
For sure they thoutht for them it was not best
To thinke on sleepe, [...]ll morning was in prime.
And so the night together they did spend▪
With great delight, not loosing any time,
But in what sort I cannot comprehend:
Nor their religious obseruations show,
But leaue that vnto them that better know.
Suppose what t'was, you get no more of me,
Let him that hath good skill and knowes the Art:
Or is acquainted with the facultie.
The misteries thereof to you impart,
And bid me not that am a simple swaine,
Snch secret obseruations to explaine,
Or to discourse of that I do not know.
If that in speculation I were seene▪
Or had by practise skill the same to show,
It had for me an easie matter beene.
But sith aboue my skill it is so farre,
Ile leaue it vnto you. And now declare
How Iason and Medea did agree,
And how it was their purpose and pretence,
That she should into Greece conducted bee.
And in so secret wise convaied thence
By him, that Faher, friend, nor any wight,
Should know, or once suspect her sudden flight.

CHAP. VII.

I How Iason after the conquest of the Golden-fle [...], taking Medea secretly with him, returned againe into Thessalie.

WHen Iasou had his dangerous cōquest wo [...],
And brauely feasted was like his degree,
With all the honor could to him be don,
He did deuise when oppertunitie
Should serue his turne, to sayle away by night,
And take Medea with him if he might.
And so when as a month had passed ore,
He closely caused all things t'ready make,
And as he fully purposed before.
Medea with him secrretly did take,
Withall the treasure that he could convay,
And hoysing sayles from Colchos stale away.
Alas Medea, why wast thou in hast
So perillous a iourney then to make,
And why wast thou so slow before to cast
The dangers thou as then didst vndertake:
Didst thou not proue him faithlesse and vnkind,
For all to thee by oath thou didst him bind?
To show he cast thee off and cleane forsooke,
Constraining thee to weepe and mourne in woe,
And how that he another louer tooke,
And for his wife would thee by no meanes know:
And caused thee thy golden lockes to rend,
And wofully thy dolefull life to end.
It were in vaine the same now to recite,
(Sith it is past) or show what did befall
To Iason in reward of his despight,
Who likewise fell into no little thrall:
And lost his life (for his vnnaturalnes)
In bloudy warre with griefe and great distresse.
This shall suffice th'vnfortunate estate
Of louers twaine, to set before your eye,
And t'show they lost their liues by cruell fate,
Because they set their minds on vanity:
For of beginning that's not vertuous,
The end for certaine proues but dangerous.
If they at first the perill had forecast,
And not so rashly run into the fire
Of burning lust, they had not at the last
Reapt iust reward of their so fond desire:
But he that's carelesse mischiefe to foresee,
Will surely fall into extreamitie.
For as a medcine ministred to man,
When that his bodie's mortifide and dead;
By no meanes helpe nor ought auaile him can.
And as the stomacke weake, or wounded head,
Cannot be eas'd by any potion,
Hearbe, stone, receit, salue, or confection,
That any Surgeon what so ere doth know,
Or learned Doctor in the world can giue,
When as the bodie's laid in earth full low.
Or what auaileth it to striue t'relieue▪
A beast whose carrion corps lies dead on ground,
And all together cold and sencles found.
In my conceit and simple fantasie,
Twere vaine, as dame Experience doth vs teach,
For nought as then can helpe or remedy
Health to procure, or dolour to impeach:
For that which im perform'd in time and date,
More vertue hath then that which comes to late.
Right so it is (and sure it is no fable)
He that thinkes not on danger till it fall,
But trusteth vnto worldly hopes vnstable,
In stead of suger sweet tasts bitter gall
Mixt with deceit, and doth at last repent
His carelesnes, and life so negligent.
That he the same could not in time forecast,
Nor in his mind resolue it to preuent▪
Till in the snare he's caught and holden fast,
And cannot shun the perill eminent.
Which shows that lust (not reason) did obtaine,
The highest seat within his head so vaine.
As Iason and Medea well did proue.
But how so euer Iason sped thereby,
The story saith (through fond and foolish loue)
Medea onely felt th'extreamity
Of danger, woe, perplexity, and griefe,
And dyed at the last without reliefe.
Because she did not warily forecast
What might fall out, ere she her iourney tooke
With Iason: for which cause she made such hast,
That Father, friends, and Country she forsooke.
But sith that it was done of wilfulnesse,
Without good counsell or aduisednesse,
Meere folly t'were her miseries to waile,
Or grieue at her so hard and lucklesse fate,
Sith that as now full little t'would availe:
But sure she chose an hower vnfortunate,
When as the Moone by constellation,
With some bad planet had coniunction.
Let it suffice that secretly alone,
To beare her deare friend Iason company,
To ship she went, and th'Isle of Colchos soone
She did forsake, to saile to Thessalie:
And in the night full closely stole away,
With as much treasure as she could conuay.
And hauing wind at will with gladsome cheare,
They put to sea and passed many an jsle,
Where least the voyage tedious should appeare
Vnto Medea, Iason all the while
With Hercules, still held her company,
With fained show of loue and courtesie.
And with dissembling face seem'd for her sake,
Much to reioyce, (as louers oft can do)
And thereof vse an exercise to make,
Till that they haue their losts attain'd vnto▪
As Iason did Medea soone deceaue,
And her of her virginitie bereaue.
Forsaking her when least [...]e did suspect,
He would haue playd so treacherous a part,
In so vild sort, and her so soone reiect,
With such a cruell, hard, and stony heart,
And left her in great miserie and woe.
But here of her I meane no more to thoe,
For that mine Author more to write doth spare.
But if at large the storie you will see,
Onid [...]s Naso plainly doth declare,
The miserie and great extreamitie
Wherein she fell, and with what great distresse,
She lost her life by Iasons wickednes.
And how that she by him two sons did beare,
The which she kild (although gainst natures kind)
Because that they like to their Father were,
And for that Iason falsely chang'd his mind,
And cast his loue vpon another Dame,
Whome Ouid saith Cerusa had to name.
And cleane forsooke Medea his true wife,
She falling in a rage and extreame griefe,
In cruell in wise, bereft her selfe of life,
And died distraught, dispairing of reliefe.
Of this her end if more you seeke to know,
Read Ouid, who the same at large doth show.
And now will I my stile directly turne,
To let you know what was by Iason done,
When he in Greece arriu'd. Whose heart did burne,
With rage and anger gainst Laomedon:
Till he could find a meane how to requight
The wrong receau'd from him, with like despight.
When Iason with his traine all landed were,
Vpon the pleasant coast of Thessalie,
And that King Peleus knew his being there,
Accompanied with all his chiualry:
He went out of his Court with him to meet,
And did him in most friendly manner greet.
But yet with outward show and countenance
Of fained loue, as seeming very glad,
That his so great good fortune was t'aduance
His honour and his house, and that he had
By Knightly force so much extold his name,
And home retourne with victory and fame,
From Calchos Isle. Yet gladder had he beene,
(Although in outward show he did explaine
The contrary) that he had neuer seene
His safe returne to Thessalie againe:
A nd yet to play a right dissemblers part,
He welcomd him, although against his heart.
Admiring how he could so soone obtaine,
(By that aduenture strange and perillous)
The fleece of Gold, and [...]ome roturne againe,
In so short time, and so victorious:
But couertly his treacherie to hide,
Without delay all scuses set aside.
To Iason he resigned presently
His Kingdome, which to him belong'd of right,
With Scepter, Crowne, and [...]ga [...] dignity,
And all his Soueraignty and might.
(His promise to obserue, which when he went,
He made to him, though otherwise he ment)
Supposing that he nere should come againe.
(But he that for another digs a p [...],
May faile in his imagination vaine,
And be the first himselfe that falls in it:
As Peleus did which sought his nephews end
With deadly hate, yet seemd his louing frend)
Which Iason did accept without delay,
And thanking him with louing face and cheare,
Besought him to giue eare what he would say:
And his request indifferently to heare,
Concerning Tooyans wrongs done as he went
To him and his, when he no hu [...]t them ment.
And said, my Lord, when as we sailed by
The coast of Troye, a tempest in the aire
Began to rise, with such extreamity,
That we of life were wholy in despaire:
And in that care, necessity, and griefe,
We forced were to land there for reliefe.
Not minding any iniury or wrong,
Vnto the King in any wise to doe:
But t'ease our selues, and then to passe along,
To Colchos Isle where first we ment to goe:
But Laomedon not therewith content,
A messenger in hast vnto vs sent.
(Pretending of meere malice vs to grieue)
And churlishly bad vs depart from thence,
Or else he said by force he would vs driue
Off from his coast, as taking great offence:
That we would seeme to enter in his land,
So sodainly with sueh a warlike band.
When we nought els but peace & friendship ment,
As glad to be relieu'd in our distresse,
Not hauing any kind of bad intent
That should him moue to seeke vs to oppresse.
Now then my Lord, sith he did so abuse
Both me and mine, and seem'd vs to refuse
A place of rest, from danger vs to saue,
Against the lawes of common courtesie,
I humbly you beseech that we may haue
Your aid of men and mony, both to trie
By force of armes if that we can requite
The Troyan King for his so great despight.
For truth to say, my mind and will is bent,
To saile to Troye with all the speed I may.
And to destroy the Land is mineintent,
And cruelly Laomedon to slay:
According to the vow that I did make,
When I was forst the Troyan soile forsake!
Is that it please your Grace to giue consent
To my request, and lend your helping hand,
And doubt not ere that many months are spent,
But maugre Troye, and Troyans, all wee'll land
With all our power of Graecian chiualrie,
And soone requite the Troyans crueltie.
When Peleus did Prince Iasons mind perceaue,
Without delay he said it should be so,
A [...]luring him he did so well conceaue
Of his intent that he himselfe would go
With him, and all his company to Troye,
By force of armes that Country to destroye.
Whereto his whole Nobility agreed,
And none of them vnto the King said nay,
But promised their aid with present speed,
Preparing for the same without delay:
Of which their Iourney chiefe Solicitor
Was Hercules the worthie Conqueror.
Who in all hast his forces to prepare
In readines, to Sparta straightway went,
(Which is an Isle from Thessalie not farre,
And subiect to the Graecian gouernment,
Wherein as then two Princes great did raigne,
King Castor, and King Pollux, brethren twaine.
Whome Poets in their Histories do set,
Brethren to be [...] Helena the faire,
Whome Iupiter on Led [...] did beget,
Whose beauty was esteem'd to be so [...]are▪
Which Helena (they write) conceaued was
In Tyn [...] an Isle, which as men passe
Along the se [...]s, [...]s by Sic [...] Land,
And that her name Tyn [...] of that Isle▪
Was also cald [...] [...] longer ile not stand
Their pedigree to tell, but speake a while
Of Hercules, to show how he did craue
The aid of those two Kings as then to haue,
To goe with him vnto the Towne of Troye,
With all the power they had, whereby he ment,
The same by force and valor to destroye.
To whose request they straight did giue consent:
And promised in readines to lie,
Till he to them the time should certifie,
When he would put to Sea. Wherewith content:
He thanked them, and did no longer stay,
But straight his course vnto Messena bent,
And there arriu'd about the breake of day:
And to the King cald Telamon did goe,
The cause of his repaire to him to shoe.
Whose comming when he knew, he was full glad
To see him, and in braue and Princely wise
Receaued him. To whome when as he had
Such honour done, as he could well deuise [...]
He promised to aid him with all speed,
With mony and with men what he should need,
And personally himselfe with him to goe.
Which Hercules accepting in good part,
Did take his leaue (his Princely mind to shoe)
And yeelded thanks to him with all his heart.
And entring Ship, returnd to Thessalie
To tell King Peleus, and to cer [...]
How he had sped. Beseeching him to write
To all the Lords and Barrons in his Land,
And them command with all the hast they might▪
In readines to make a warlike band▪
And to prouide a counsell wi [...]e and graue,
Which he that goes to warre, he said must haue▪
For that the wit of him thats growne in age,
Is more then strength without experience,
But when as force is ioynd with counsell sage.
It is a bulwarke strong for our defence,
And he that long a trauailer hath beene,
And by experience many things hath seene,
Is meet in peace and war to rule and guide.
For vnto age, experience great [...] and [...]
Belongs of right [...] [...] doth [...]
That strength and courage youth should best [...]:
And when both youth and age with one consent▪
To worke and ioyne together are content.
In any cause of equity and right,
Men need not feare with glistering sword & shield,
(By helpe of God the giuer of all might)
Against their foes to [...] in the field.
For neither fame of Knight-hood, not the glory,
Not yet the conquest, nor the victory
Of warre, are got or woone by multitude,
But as experience saith of right belong
To counsell, wisedome, and to fortitude,
Therefore (said he) let vs revenge our wrong
With courage bold, sith that our cause is good,
And for our honours spend our dearest blood,
And that we may our valours brauelie shew,
We will avoid the multitude of number,
And of our warlike Knights choose but a few,
Wherewith we shall our foes much more incomber,
Then if we had an armie huge and great,
For many in a field each other let.
This good aduise King Peleus did allow,
And whatsoeuer Hercules had said,
T'effect the same did make a solemne vow.
Then Hercules to haue and get more aid,
To Pilon went, wherein a Duke of fame
As then did rule, that Nestor had to name.
A Prince for wit and valour magnified,
(Yet of a hastie, fierce, and angrie mood)
And in some sort to Hercules allied:
Whose comming when he once had vnderstood,
He was contented for his Nephews sake,
The Troyan warre with him to vndertake.
(So Hercules the day and time would set)
And personally himselfe therein to be.
Then Hercules no further time to let,
With present speed returnd to Thessalie,
Whereas the Graecians Navie then did stay,
Attending time from thence to saile away.
Where after counsell tane they did agree,
That Peleus should be generall of the field,
And that each Lord and Prince of high degree,
While that their Troian warre did last should yeeld
To his command, as Soueraigne of them all,
And so they stayd till wind did them befall.

CHAP. VIII.

¶ How Iason, Hercules, and the Graecian Princes, assembled to make warre against the Towne of Troy, to reuenge the discurtesie done to them by Laomedon King of Troye, when they sailed to Colchos.

WHen as the temperate dewes of Aperill,
With many a sweet & comfortable shower,
Into the ground full deepely do distill,
To raise the grasse and beauty of each flower:
And Phoebus mounting the celestiall spheare,
In Aries doth place his beames most cleare.
And in the spring which yerely doth befall,
When as the calends of the month of May,
Do celebrate the Equinoctiall,
And make an equall length of night and day.
And euery branch and tree to spring are seen,
And after vading hew shew fresh and greene.
When Snow that on the mountaine tops doth lie,
By heat of Phoebus beames dissolues away,
And when a vapery balme ascends on hie,
Out from the pleasant flower at prime of day:
And that the root by Winter cold kept in,
Recouering sap to spring forth doth begin.
And mount into each flower, hearbe, and tree,
And by the force of Sols most burning heat,
Infuseth in each branch humidity,
Assisted by some showers of raine most sweet.
When siluer springs cast forth their currant stream
Into the Riuers glistring gainst Sonne beames.
And ere the Son new greene had sent againe,
Vnto each hearbe and grasse vpon the ground,
When as the pleasant Nightingale t'explaine
Her ioy within the shadie woods is found,
With sweet and amorous noats a loud to sing,
And makes the eire with sound thereof to ring.
To welcome in the faire and pleasant spring,
Which doth delight all creatures that are
Vpon the earth, and comforts euery thing,
Which Winter hard ore-whelmd with cold & care:
And when the winds did lessen, calme, & swage
The Seas, that by cold Winters storms did rage.
At that same time the Graecians did begin
To enter Ship, and towards Troye to saile,
Well rigged, man'd, & furnisht with each thing,
That for the wars might them as then availe,
And when the weather serued them to goe,
They put to Sea with braue and warlike shoe.
And made such hast by aid Neptune them lent,
That in few daies they saild vnto the Towne
Of Troye, (whereto their course as then was bent)
At euening when the Sun was almost downe,
And there cast anker, thinking it the best,
Within their Ships that night to take their rest.
And when the Larke did in the morning sing,
With pleasant noats to welcome Phebus bright,
[...]o set their men on land they did begin,
And mark't their ground and rais'd their tents vp­right
Before the Towne of Troy ere they it wist:
(For that they might as then do what they list.
And set a watch meane time in euery place
To guard their Campe, vntill the Sun most bright
Had in the morning shew'd his glistring face,
And on the tents had cast his crimson light:
And then they all agreed with one consent,
To make repaire vnto King Peleus tent.
And being there as then together met,
King Peleus causing silence to be made,
When euery one in his degree was set)
With courage bold vnto them spake, and said,
Most worthy Graecian Princes high and low,
Whose Knightly force the world throghout doth know,
Reported is as far as shines the Sun
In any place, it neuer yet was seen,
That Graecians haue an enterprise begun,
Which by them hath not well effected been:
And they victoriously with Lawrell crownd,
As in the ancient Histories is found.
Then valiant Lords and Princes of renowne,
Thinke on the wrong that vnto you was wrought,
By this discourteou [...] King Laomedon,
When as no [...]urt to him by you was thought:
Which to requight sith now you do pretend,
See that your selues you valiantly defend.
And let vs now with all the speed we may,
Prepare our battailes in a readines,
And setting on them straight without delay,
Shew forth our valours and our worthines:
But let me first three things to you declare,
Which at this time for vs most needfull are.
One is, that by discretion and aduise,
Our battailes we in such sort doe ordaine,
That no disorder may amongst vs rise,
That by the same aduantage none be tane
Against vs by our foes, to our disgrace,
And we thereby constrain'd to leaue the place.
The second is, that we our valours show,
And let no manner feare possesse our heart,
But stoutly let vs gainst our enemies goe,
And see we play the valiant souldiers part▪
Couragiously in battaile to endure,
And to our foes eternall shame procure.
The third and last is, that we striue to gaine,
The fame and name our Ancestors haue held,
And valiantly the victory obtaine
Against our foes, and driue them out the field:
For if by Knighthood through our hardines,
We vanquish them and put them to distresse,
We win not only praise and high renowne,
(Which to a valiant mind is chiefest blisse)
But if we once may enter in the Towne,
Of treasure great we surely cannot misse:
Which in the same is now there to be found,
For certaine 'tis it doth therein abound.
Which maugre all our foes we will conuay
Into our ships, and so with ioyfull cheare,
When wind and weather serues without delay,
The same with vs into our Countries beare:
Therefore in hope this treasure now to win,
With courage bold t'assaile them lets begin.
Whereto most valiant Hercules reply'd,
And did King Peleus counsell much commend,
And said 'tis truth, and cannot be deny'd,
That of beginning wise proues happy end:
But now to bring our purpose to effect,
My counsell is that we do not neglect,
(Before that it appeareth to be day)
To muster all our men vpon this plaine,
And being arm'd with all the speed we may,
Our forces to diuide in battailes twaine,
Whereof the one King Peleus the graue,
The other stout King Telamon shall haue.
And I my selfe and Iason secretly,
With one third part of our approoued bands,
Will closely mongst the vines and bushes lie:
For when as Laomedon vnderstands,
That we prepared are to giue battaile,
To issue forth of Troye he will not faile.
T'encounter vs with all his power and might,
Supposing gainst our forces for to preuaile,
And when with vs he commeth downe to fight,
Duke Nestor with the first wing shall assaile
And set on him, and Castor next shall go,
To aid them when occasion serues thereto.
And with the third King Peleus still shall lie,
To aid them both, and while he's occupied,
And little doth suspect our pollicie,
Ere we by him or his shall be espyed,
Iason and I will closely wheeele about,
And take the Towne of Troye, I do not doubt.
At vnawares: whereof we cannot faile,
If that we worke with good aduise and skill,
And gainst our foes shall presently preuaile
With little losse, and soone obtaine our will.
This is the counsell I can giue (saith he)
And 'tis the best if you will credite me.
Whereto they all agreed, and euery one
With speed did arme themselues, & all that night
Did rest, till that the Sun in morning shone,
And then with courage bold set forth to fight
The battaile with the Troians in such wise,
As Hercules did them before aduise.

CHAP. IX.

¶ Of the battaile fought by Hercules and the Graeci­ans, against Laomedon King of Troye, wherein Laomedon was slaine, and the Towne of Troye ta­ken, sacked, and vtterly rased to the ground.

THe newes to King Laomedon once sent,
That all the Graecians power were come on land,
And marched in great hast with full intent,
T'assaile and giue him battaile out of hand,
And to subdue, and vtterly destroy
Himselfe, his Country, & the Towne of Troy.
He nothing fearing them nor all their might,
Made no delay but presently went out,
Accompani'd with many a noble Knight,
And all the power that he could make throughout
The Land of Troye, and being entered,
Into the field whereas he mustered
His men, and them in sundry battels plast,
(As he for that time thought convenient)
Straight marched forth, and with his army past,
In order gainst the Graecians: fully bent,
With all his force couragiously to fight,
And driue them thence againe if that he might.
(Cleane voyd of feare, nor yet in any doubt,
That Hercules an ambush closely layd,
And secretly with it had marcht about
Behind the Towne, and purposely there stayd:
T'assault it when Laomedon was gone
With all his power, against the Greeks, and none
Or very few left in't to keepe the same.)
And had not gone farre forward but he spied,
The Graecian hoast that brauely gainst him came,
At t'head whereof Duke Nestor first did ride,
And fiercely on the Troyans force, set.
Where when on either side the battails met,
And with their swords and speares together ran:
Th'encounter at the first so hot was found,
That t'was the losse and end of many a man
On either side, that gasping on the ground
Among the trampling horses feet did lie,
And there did end their daies in miserie.
At which time all the field throughout did sound,
With noyse of drums and furious stroaks that w [...]
With swords and Lances giuen, and all the ground
Did shake with horses feet, that fiercely beare
Their masters on their backs, some deadly hurt,
Some trailing them sore bleeding throgh the d [...]
In great distresse: and then you might haue seen
The faire greene fields dyed into crimson red,
With streams of bloud, the which that day had been
Betweene the Greekes and Troians fiercely shed.
For many a valiant Knight then lost his life,
And certainly in that same mortall strife,
The Graecians had been all discomfited,
They were that time pursued so furiously,
If Castor with his Knights which he then led,
Had not come in to helpe them speedily:
And at that time so valiantly assaild
The Troyans, and so much gainst them preuaild▪
That many a worthy Troyan Knight was slaine,
And such was then the fight, that where before,
The Troians victors were, the Greekes againe,
Recouered ground and beat them backe so sore
That they were forst dispight their harts to [...],
If Laomedon had not spedily,
Relieued them and furiouslie assaild,
The Greekes and made such way on euerie side,
And in shortspace so much gainst them preua [...]d
That they before him fled and durst not byde
His strockes, that were so terrible and strong:
For who soere he hit was laid along,
Vpon the ground: and riding to and fro,
He made away before him like a lane,
And mongst the thickest of the prease did go,
And neuer left vntill that he had slane,
So many Greekes that by his valiantnes
He put them once againe to such distres,
That they to shun his sword away did flie,
And likely had at that time lost the field,
If Peleus had not come and valiantly,
With trenchant blade which in his hand he held,
Assailed, wounded, and vnhorst, and kild
The Troyans so, that all the plaine was fild
With them that he alone had ouercome.
And in such furious wise road too and fro
From place to place, that glad to make him roome,
The Troyans gan t'recoile and durst not show
Themselues to him, nor come within his sight▪
And at that time he shewd such passing might,
That cleving sheilds, heads, arms, & legs in sunder,
He made such havocke mongst the Troyan bands,
That to behold him every man did woonder,
And glad was he that could escape his hands,
He put them to so great extreamitie.
But when King Laomedon saw them flie
Before King Peleus sword, it did him grieue,
And riding backe amongst his troops did pray
Them turne againe and he would them relieue,
And they content at his request did stay:
And where before they had begun to flie,
He made the Greeks recoyle so furiously,
That in despight of all their power and force,
The Troyans had the vpperhand and slew
Great store of Greekes, and many did vnhorse,
And made them fight on foot, till Nestor knew,
Laomedon that fought so valiantly,
To be the King of Troye, and presently
Road towards him, and when the King did see
Him come so fast, he turnd his horse about,
And spurd it in such hast so might lie,
That euery pricke he gaue the bloud gusht out
The horses sides, and when with him he met,
His puissant Launce into his brest he set,
And ran at him with such a mighty force,
That with the blow his Launce in pieces brake,
Yet hurt him not, nor moou'd him off his horse,
Wherewith Duke Nestor stept a little backe,
And to requite Laomedon therefore,
Did with his Launce which in his hand he bore,
Giue him throgh sheild & brest a mighty wound,
Supposing that therewith he had him slaine,
Because as then he fell vpon the ground,
But he no whit abasht rose vp againe:
And drew his sword, and like a valiant Knight,
Advanst himselfe against his foe to fight.
Yet raging fore that he so dangerously
Must fight do [...], and in such sort did stay,
Till that a yong and [...] Knightpast by
Cald Cedar, (newly knighted that same day)
Who seeing King Laomedon to fight
On foot in danger great, with all his might
At Nestor [...]an, and valiantly by force,
While he with King Laomedon did fight
Vpon a sodaine [...] him off his horse,
But he rose vp againe with great despight:
And did himselfe in furious wise defend
Against the King, that many a blow did spend
On him, and he the like on him againe,
For on each other cruelly they smot,
And long twixt them the fight did so remaine,
Till that the King at last advantage got:
And such a blow on Nestors Bever stroke,
That there with all in pieces small he broke
A circle all with Pearle richly set,
Which he that time about his Helmet ware,
And then a second blow at him he set,
And with the same his crest in sunder care,
And smote it off, whereby Duke Nestor stood
Before the King his face all bath'd with blood.
And surely had (no doubt) been slaine as then,
By th'ands of King Laomedon at last,
Had not the Greekes with many thousand men,
Come thither to relieue him in great hast:
For he was stricken downe vnto the ground,
Among the horses feet where they him found.
At which their comming Castor furiously,
A mighty Launce into his hand did take,
And vnto Cedar road couragiously,
To be reveng'd on him for Nestors sake:
But ere he could get to him in the way,
Segnerides a Troyan Knight did stay
His course, and of his purpose did him let,
And with a Launce smote Castor such a stroke,
(Which with a great carriere he did set)
That it there with in many peeces broke:
And Castor to requite him for his paine,
Did with his Launce giue him the like against.
But in such sort that with the same he gaue
Him in the breast a deepe and deadly wound,
Wherewith yong Cedar gan such griefe to ha [...];
When as he saw him fall vnto the ground:
That in despight of all that him behe [...],
He did by force from Castor take his [...]rie [...]d.
And with hissword a mighty blow him st [...]ake
Vpon the face, and vounded him full deepe,
And then his horse from him likewise did take,
And to his Squier deliuered it to keepe:
Whereby as then he was in such a case,
That he was taken prisoner in that place.
The which when Pollux did perceiue and knew,
The Troyans had his Brother Castor tane,
He did them with a valiant pursue,
And after he great store of them had slaine,
Despight of them, he resoued him by force,
And made him mount againe vpon his horse.
And in that angry, fierce, and raging ire,
Vpon the Troyans furiously did set,
(For with revenge his heart did burne like fire)
And as with furious moode by chance he met,
The braue and valiant Knight Eliatus,
(Of stature meane, yet stour and valorous.
And yet as then but of a tender age,
Nephew vnto the King Laomedon,
And Son vnto the King of great Carthage)
With all his force he hath him overthrowne;
And with his Launce in pieces twaine did cleaue
His heart, and so did him of life bereaue.
Whose fall when King Laomedon did spie,
With inward griefe his heart began to bleed,
And when his death he could not remedy,
He swore he would revenge that cruell deed:
And straight he caus'd a horne full lowd to sound,
Which being heard, there did enclose him round
Seven thousand Troyan Knights in rich array,
All making solemne vowes reveng'd to be
For that Knights death, and straight without delay
Vpon the Greekes with extreame cruelty
Most furiously did set, and made them flie,
And caused many dead and wounded lie
Within the field, so that the Greeks at last,
Not able to resist the Troyans might,
Were forced to retire from thence as fast,
As at the first they hasty were to fight:
And certainly the victory had lost.
But that there came a messenger in post
Vnto the King with sad and wofull cheare,
The news to tell, how that the Greekes by force
Had woone the towne of Troye, and entred were,
And yong and old had slaine without remorse:
Whereat he gan most pittiously to weepe,
And from his heart did fetch a sigth most deepe.
For that as then before him he did see
The Grecians strong and readie to assaile
Him once againe with all extreamitie,
And in the towne (his courage more to quaile)
Another hoast to set on him behind,
Which made him so perplexed in his mind,
And put him to so great extreamitie,
To thinke vpon his hard and sodaine chance,
That faine he would haue [...]ound the means to flie,
But as aside his eies he chanc'st to glance,
From out the towne the Grecians he be held
Come marching gainst him proudly in the field
And in great hast the Gyant Hercules,
Like raging Tygar wild and furious,
Entring amongst the thick'st of all the prease,
With courage bold and heart most valorous:
Of new began the Troyans to assaile,
And with his sword to hew both plate & male.
His blowes they were so terrible and strong,
That nothing could withstand his passing might,
Whereby he laid full many a Knight along
Dead on the ground (for Troyans with the fight,
Which they against the Greekes all day had held,
So wearied were, that scarcely they could weld
Their weapons to defend themselues withall)
For as he road amongst them here and there,
You might behold here ten there twenty fall
Downe at his feet, that soone they forced were
To breake their rankes, and every man to flie
To saue themselue from his great crueltie.
And so disperst, for feare they shun'd the place,
Abandoning their King vnfortunate,
Who being left in that distressed case,
Could not withstand his hard and cruell fate:
For when as he with fierce and furious looke
Laomedon espied, his Launce he tooke:
And setting spurres vnto his horse in hast,
He ran at him as hard as ere he might,
And with a blow vnto the ground him cast:
Which done, with speed downe from his horse he light▪
And with one stroke smote of his head in hast,
Which scornefully vnto the ground he cast,
Among the horses feet in cruell wise.
Then in a rage he tooke his horse againe,
And staring with most fierce and fiery eies,
Like Lyon fell he ran vpon the plaine,
And killed all that met him in the way,
And brought full many Troyans to decay.
That like to sheepe amazed and in feare,
(As destitute of governor or guide)
Not able his great cruelty to beare,
Did run to saue their liues on every side:
The Grecians likewise in great multitude,
In every place so fiercely them pursude,
That scarce a man aliue of them remaind,
But all were slaine or else did slip aside
To saue themselues. Thus victorie obtaind,
The Grecians straight vnto the towne did ride:
Which presently they razed to the ground,
And al [...] the treasure which therein they found,
They tooke and bare't into their ships in hast,
Dispoyling Temples with great violence,
And to the ground their Pagan Gods did cast,
(For no man durst against them make defence)
And mercilesse (great pittie to behold)
With bloudy swords they kild both yong & old.
The tender child that mothers brest did sucke,
Escaped not their extreame cruelty,
For from the mothers arms they did them plucke,
And violently caused them to die:
Their maidens faire they did reserue for prise,
And with them did their beastly lusts suffice,
Regarding neither beautie, birth, nor name.
And when the houses all destroyed were,
They raz'd the wals, and quite defast the same,
And Laomedons onlie daughter deare,
Faire Exion, whose beautie did excell,
To go with them by force they did compell;
Who by them all was giuen to Telamon,
For his reward, (by Hercules his consent)
Because that he first enterd in the towne,
Wherewith he seemd to be as well conten [...]
As if that all the treasure they had got
Within the towne had fallen to his lot.
And yet he did himselfe therein abuse,
For being home returnd from victory,
To take her for his wife he did refuse,
But with her as his concubine did lie:
Regarding neither state nor high degree,
Nor her descent from Princely majestie.
For if he had her tane to be his spouse,
He could not haue disparag'd his estate,
Considering that she was of Princely house,
And royall bloud, although vnfortunate
Vpon his word and curtesie t'relie,
That kept her but his lust to satisfie.
But Telamon therin thou wast to blame,
To do a Princesse faire so great despight,
And make her to the world anopen shame,
When as thou shouldst haue shew'd thy selfe her knight
And rather in defence of her to die,
Then that she should haue suffred villanie.
For through thy bad and foolish government,
So hote a sparke of envie did arise
In Troyans hearts (which to revenge were bent)
That nothing could to quench the same suffice,
For envie old once rooted in the heart,
Doth sieldome, or else never thence depart.
And if it burne within and flames not out,
Nor maketh shew of fume nor smoke at all,
The greater cause men haue thereof to doubt,
And where it lights t'will haue the greater fall.
Which you within this History may see
At large in every point set downe to bee.
When that the towne was burnt & laid full low,
And all the wals vnto the ground was cast,
And nothing thereof left to make a show,
But it was spoyld and vtterly defast:
The Grecians did no longer time delay,
Vnto their ships their treasure to convay.
But being richly laden with great store
Of siluer, gold, and costly jewels rare,
(That not the meanest man of them was poore)
When wind did serue and weather waxed faire,
They [...] [...]iles returne againe to make
To Thessa [...] and with them then did take
Faire [...]on, and many a proper maide,
And sa [...]ing forth with prosperous wind and good,
It was not long (through gentle Neptunes aide)
But they [...] with glad and merry mood
At their d [...]sired port, where on the sand,
Great multitudes of people then did stand
To welcome them, with glad and ioyfull cheare,
Reioycing at their victory obtain'd,
With losse of so few men as did appeare:
And cause they had such store of treasure gain'd,
Their Country to enrich for evermore,
They gaue great thanks vnto their Gods there­fore.
Thus happily with triumph and renowne,
They being home returnd did liue in peace,
And throughout every City, land, and towne,
Their honor and their fame did still encrease:
So that the compasse of the world throughout,
Each Nation to offend them stood in doubt:
And feared them. For certaine tis they had
A multitude of men within their land
And wealth & treasure great, the which they made
(When s'ever they tooke any thing in hand)
As common to them all, whereby they were
A terror to all Nations farre and nere.
Till fortune chanst to whirle her wheele about,
And turnd their peace into such bloudie warre,
As after in few yeares it did fall out,
When they and Troyans once againe did jarre:
Which at this time I meane not to declare,
Desiring that herein you will mespare:
And giue me leaue to rest a little while,
For herewith I do meane to end this Booke,
And at another time direct my stile,
To perfect that which first I vndertooke:
Which in the next t'accomplish I intend,
If life and leisure God to me will lend.
Meane time if that by rudenesse I offend,
The gentle readers pardon I will craue,
With promise any fault I make t'amend,
If that the least instruction I may haue:
And so in hope your favours you'le extend
To me herein: my first Booke thus shall end.
FINIS.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF HECTOR.
THE SECOND BOOKE.

The Preface. CHAP. I.

THe envious vaine which fortune flattering,
Doth vse in this vncertaine state of life,
Where all things fickle are and wavering,
Addicted is so much to warre and strife:
That whatsoever course a man doth run,
The sparkes thereof by no meanes he can shun.
For she is still so false and mutable,
That he which on her wheele doth highest clime,
And thinketh his estate secure and stable,
(At some vncertaine hower, day, or time,
When least he doth suspect a change of state,)
She casts him downe, and makes vnfortunate.
And with a smooth and double flattering face,
Makes shew of loue when least she is to trust,
That well were he that had the power and grace,
To see and find her frauds and wiles vniust:
And all her engins and her snares well knew,
Which daily doe encrease and still renew.
The which in truth full well affirme I can,
So many and so diuers are of kind,
That hetherto not any mortall man
Could euer them avoid, that I can find:
For though vnequall ballance she doth beare,
With counterfeit & false dissembling cheare,
And looke most smooth & full of flatterie,
She can man soone beguile and cleane bereaue
Of all his blisse in twinckling of an eie,
Her nature is so readie to deceaue:
And when she changeth high to low estate,
With fleering looke she stands & laughs thereat.
And yet oft times she seemeth to be true,
For vnto some a while she's favorable,
And then when as she list to change her hew,
To othersome she is deceauable.
Such skill she hath in transmutation,
That one sheele raise, & other throweth downe.
To some she giues renowne and victory,
And doth exalt their honor and their fame.
And some she causeth most deceitfully,
(Though vndeseru'd) t'incurre perpetuall shame.
To othersome she's gentle and bening,
And giues them lucke in all and every thing.
On some she frownes, and hath them in disdaine,
And by her power imbaseth them full low.
And for to show that earthly hope is vaine,
She can the state of Princes overthrow:
And make them stoop for all their great renowne,
And high and mighty Emperors cast downe,
From off the mount of high felicity,
(To make them feele her rankor and disdaine,)
Into the vale of great adversity.
The rich she maketh poore, and then againe
Of poore makes rich, and as it is her kind,
Sets one before, another casts behind.
Some one she maketh run, another halt,
The third she plungeth in extreamity,
The fourth she doth to honor great exalt,
So that in her there's no security.
In some mans mouth sweet Nectar she disti [...]th▪
Anothers throat with bitter ga [...] she fil'th.
And thus this wilfull Lady as we find,
Within her power great store of potions hath,
And every one of strange and severall kind.
For she to some with false and fained faith
Giues pleasant wine, but when the sweet is past,
(As tis her vse) she giveth them a tast
Of Aloes, and of bitter wormewood drinke,
And corfiues which do fret and pierce most deepe
Into mens hearts, when as they little thinke
That fortune them beguiles and luls a sleepe.
And thus if in this Queene of Variance
(Whose ioy doth ever end with some mischāce.)
Men put their trust, let them besure at last,
Of what estate so euer that they be,
Sheele overthrow them with some sodaine blast,
And cleane bereaue of all felicitie.
As by example of Laomedon,
We may perceiue brought to confusion
For little cause, or truth to say, for nought,
Wherefore let euery man by him take heed,
A quarrell to begin where none is sought,
Least that like him destruction be their meed.
For little fire with ashes covered,
When men suppose it quencht and wholly dead,
May chance breake out, and on a sodaine burne,
And when as men the same do seeke to cease,
Full often in their faces it doth turne,
But he that medleth least, liues most at ease:
Therefore let Kings and Princes every one,
A mirror make of King Laomedon.
And see they vse no kind of violence,
Nor suffer any one to offer wrong
To strangers, when they giue them none offence:
For though their power & force be great & strong
Within their land, when least they thinke on it,
(As he was seru'd) they may their rigor quit,
And yeeld the like to them in other place,
When as perchance (vnto their overthrow)
They shall of them receiue but little grace.
Wherefore I wish when as they heare or know,
That strangers in their Countries are arriu'd,
Let them with loue and honor be receau'd.
And wisely thinke and hold it to be true,
That to a stranger courtesie to show,
Vnto a noble mind belongs of due;
For sure it is, as every man doth know,
That nothing doth their honors more augment,
Then when their only care and will is bent
For to relieue, to cherish, and to comfort,
With all the loue and honor that they may,
Such strangers as vnto their Courts resort,
That they of them may well report and say:
The contrary whereof much strife hath wrought,
As in this present History is taught.
The towne of Troy that first was built, thus spoil'd,
The people slaine, and many forst to fly▪
The remnant with great woe and sorrow toil'd,
Int'exile led, liue in captiuity:
And Exion, as you haue heard me tell,
Went into Greece with Telamon to dwell.
For whom there rose such bloudy warre & strife,
And so great vengeance tane for it in th'end
On either side, that thousands lost their life:
Which to declare I purposely intend,
If you vouchsafe it patiently to heare,
And for your good the same in mind will beare.
So hard and fatall is our destiny,
That no estate can permanently stand,
For every man ordained is to die,
And alterations chance in every Land:
And through the world where ever that we be,
We heare of nought but warre and treacherie.
Which serues to put vs in rememberance,
That many warres & battailes great are fought,
And many woes and miseries do chance,
And mooued are for little cause or nought:
And diuers things for matters small, or none,
At first begun, breed much confusion.
Each one doth seeke another to destroy,
And bloudy minds are greatly to be fear'd,
Man careth not his brother to annoy,
And all because we take no better heed:
But envie raignes so much in euery age,
That nought but bloud & death can it asswsge.
By it, although the causes were but small,
If truth were knowne, on th'ancient towne of Troy,
Both old and new such miseries did fall,
That at the last it did them both destroy:
Where during their so long & bloudy strife,
Full many a valiant Knight did loose his life.
And Kings and Princes died by dint of sword,
Which to recount my hand doth shake for feare,
Least that my barren wit should not afford,
Fit tearmes & phrases the truth for to declare,
Vnto my most renownd and soueraigne Liege,
Of all that past in that long ten yeres siege.
Which if that he with patience please to heare,
And not disdaine my rude and simple verse,
And in his sacred wisedome with it beare,
While I this wofull Historie rehearse:
(Whereof no doubt I haue, sith that of grace,
Sweet mercy in his heart he doth embrace▪
And that he is a Prince of Maiestie,
Whose vertues are so excellent and rare,
That to addict his mind to pietie
It is his onely study and his care.)
With his support I will here vndertake,
A true discourse vnto you now to make.
What did befall vnto the towne of Troy,
(That newly was erected once againe,)
When Greeks did it the second time destroy,
As Guydo doth the same at large explaine.
And if my verse for want of skill seeme lame,
Let me intreat you to correct the same.
But blame me not, sith that the fault's not mine,
For as you know the English tongue is harsh,
And wanteth words to make vp perfect rime,
Where it in many places is too scarce.
And truth to say, my wit will not aspire
To follow Guydoes phrase as I desire.
Who in his Latine verse doth so exceed
In Rethoricke, that my translation
Requires a farre more fine and subtill head,
To follow him in like construction.
Verbatim as a learned Gramarian,
Or as a skilfull Rethoritian,
I only take vpon me to declare
The Historie according to the sence,
And truth thereof, which is my chiefest care,
Least I thereby to some might breed offence.
And truth of verse I likewise set aside,
As wanting one therein to be my guide.
And to correct and mend them that are wrong.
My onely seeking is truth to declare,
Regarding neither verses short nor long,
For curiousnesse therein I doe not care.
Pretending not in any thing to varry,
Nor yet my Author Guido to contrary.
Nor from him disagree in truth of sence,
But to conclude our meanings all in one
And to agree therein, for Eloquence
Or Rethoricke, I you assure there's none
In me, your heads with phrases fine to fill,
Nor yet haue I in painting any skill.
With colours fresh and gay to please the ere,
I nought can vse, but sad and mournfull blacke,
And therewithall my selfe will satisfie,
Which in good part I you beseech to take.
And so in hope your favors I shall win,
I will proceed the story to begin.
WHen as the noble King Laomedon
Was slaine in field by cruell Hereules,
When as the Greekes did first destroy the towne,
He had a sonne and heire as Guido sa [...]es,
Cald Priamus, a Prince of courage stout,
Whose fortune was at that time to be out
With Hecuba his wife, and did assault
A Castle strong, wherein a Lord did lie,
Which at that time did stubbornly revolt,
And long before had warred cruelly
Against the towne of Troy with force and might,
(Yet subiect was vnto the same by right.)
Where Priam and his sonnes in campe did lie,
Accompanied with many a worthy Knight,
(Their power and force against their foes to trie,)
And it besieged round both day and night.
With vow the same by fierce assault to win,
And to destroy them all that were within.
(For he as then was strong and valorous,
Young, lusty, and of fierce and hawtie heart,
And therewithall so stout and ventrous,
That feare of death could neuer make him start.)
And to be first that in the field did enter
Against his foes, his life therein to venter.
Whereby hewan great honour and renowne,
And for his time was held a worthy Knight.
Till Fortune from her wheele did cast him downe;
And in his fall did show her power and might:
To change and alter things as she thinks good,
Respecting neither poore nor Princely blood.
This Priamus by Hecuba his wife
Eight goodly, faire, and Princely children had,
(Which all were slaine and died in the strife
And bloody warre that Grecions gainst him made:
Whereof there were fiue sons, & daughters three,
Which I will name each one in his degree.
The first and eldest Hector had to name,
Whose worthinesse as farre abroad doth flie;
(And is extold by Trumpe of Lady Fame.)
As Phoebus doth r [...]n compasse [...]out the skie
In one daies space, for authors certifie,
And say, be was th [...]oo [...] of chival [...]ie.
Of Knight-hood true the onely Soveraigne,
And Mirror bright and cleare of Noblenesse,
And did therein vnto such hight attaine,
That no man can sufficiently expresse
The great and valiant acts he did archiue,
Surpassing all that ever yet did liue:
And therewithall he was most vertuous,
Discreet, and wise, and friendly to each one.
Of whom the deeds and prowesse marvelous,
Reported are, and haue been long agone
By many ancient Authors fore our dayes,
That write of him to his eternall praise.
The second Sonne by birth and Dignitie
Was Parris cald, who did exceed so farre
In person, beautie, shape, dexteritie,
And was esteem'd therein, to be so rare,
That in his time as farre as I can heare,
Vpon the earth there neuer liu'd his peere.
Who likewise was a stout and worthy Knight,
And in a bow had such delight and skill,
(Wherewith he vsed commonly to fight,)
That where he aim'd, he would be sure to kill.
None ever did surpasse him in the same,
And Alexander was his other name.
Deiphobus was the third Sonne by degree,
A Knight of worthy same and great renowne,
Strong, hardy, and of courage franke and free,
Exceeding wise, and of great discretion,
A counsellor in peace and warre most graue,
And in the field a Champion bold and braue.
The fourth of them was Hele [...] by name,
Who onely gaue his minds vnto his booke,
And was so much addicted to the same,
That pleasure in no other thing he tooke.
Whereby so wise and learned he became,
That all men did admire him for the same.
The Fist Sonne was a hardie valiant Knight,
Although the last and yongest of them all,
And puissantly against his [...]oes did fight,
Whom Troy [...]l [...]s the historie doth call:
And for his valiant heart and courage braue,
The name of second Hector men him gaue.
So many valiant acts hy him were don,
While that the Grecian warre continued,
Whereby so much renowne therein he won,
That after Hectors death he was so feared,
And did the Greekes so cruelly assaile,
That nought against the Towne they could pre­vaile.
Yet Uirgill in his Booke of Troyan warre,
(By him cald his En [...]idos) saith thus,
That Hecuba vnto King Pryam bare
Two younger Sonnes, the one Polidorus,
Whom (when the Grecians first did take in ha [...]d
Their bloody warre, and entred in his land
As then but young) he straight did send away
Vnto a King that was his trusty friend,
With store of treasure great, with him to stay
Till he might see what jssue and what end
The warre would haue, as then but new begon
Betweene the Greekes and him, before the towne.
But he in whom he did repose his trust,
When as he vnderstood King Pryams state,
(Desirous of the gold which makes men thurst)
Did cause the Troian Prince vnfortunate,
To be bereav'd of life most cruelly,
And buried in a place full secretly,
Hard by the Sea, so deepe within the ground,
That no man could his treason great espie,
Nor never afterward his body found.
And so the Proverbe old did verefie,
(Who so on gold doth set his onely care,
To win the same no mischiefe he will spare.)
The second of those two cald Ganimed,
Vpon a time did hunt for his disport,
And straying in a wood by fortune led,
God Iupiter (as Uirgill doth report,)
Vp to the skies did sodainely him take,
And there for ever Butler did him make.
The eldest of King Priams daughters three,
Cerusa nam'd, the story doth declare,
Was married to a Lord of high degree,
Aeneas cal'd, a man of beauty rare:
(Whose Father was a Duke of noble fame,
And Uirgill saith, Anchises had to name,
And on the Goddesse Uenus him begot.)
For this Aeneas honor and his fame,
Uirgill compild a Booke wherein he wrot
His travells all at large, and doth the same
From his departure out of Troy begin,
And showes how he all Italie did win.
(Long after that the great and famous Towne
Of Troy destroyd, and cleane defaced was)
And what great conquests were archieu'd and d [...]n
By him, as he along the Seas did passe.
And how that first at Carthage he did stay,
Ere that he further forth went on his way,
Whereas Queene Dido pierst with Cupids dart,
Of him became so much enamored,
That for because from thence he did depart,
For loue of him her selfe she murthered.
All which and more in Virgill you may see
In Latine verse, at large declard to bee.
King Priams second daughter had to name
Cassandra, as the ancient stories saies,
Who by her wit attaind so loftie fame,
That she was holden for a Prophetes:
Her skill in Arts of all kinds was so much,
That like to her there nere was any such.
For future things she could declare and show,
And what was done within the world so round,
Before it came to passe she did it know,
Her learning was so deepe and so profound.
Her manner was religiously to liue,
And onely to the same her mind did giue.
The third and youngest daughter Policene,
For shape and beautie past her sisters twaine,
Who liued all her daies a Virgin cleane,
Till she by Pirrhus cruelty was slaine
In presence of her Mother, to fulfill
And satisfie his fierce and bloody will.
And Priamus as you likewise may read
Had thirty valiant bastard children,
All sonnes which did so much in armes exceed,
That in their times they proved valiant men.
Whose names to show as now ile overpasse,
Till that occasion serues in other place.
WHile Priam so the castle did inclose
To win the same by force, & dayly sought
All meanes he could to ouercome his foes:
The wofull newes vnto him there was brought,
How that the Greekes the towne of Troy had won,
And kild his father King Laomedon.
The walles and howses thereof cleane cast downe,
The people all slaine with great cruelty,
And left nought standing vpright in the towne,
But all on ground did flat and euen lie.
And Exion made to Thelamon a prey,
Who had her captiue led with him away.
He was in mind so much astonished,
And sodaine woe his sences so did straine,
That for a while he seem'd as one were dead,
And inwardly did feele such mortall paine;
That he did thinke his heart within his brest
Would cleaue in twaine, so much he was opprest
With sorrow, griefe, perplexitie, and woe,
And therewithall the teares did fast distill
Out from his eies, downe to the earth so low;
That sure if that he might haue had his will,
He rather would haue chosen there to die,
Then to haue felt so great extremitie.
(Wherewith he did on fortune much exclaime;
That she to him was so deceaueable,
To worke him such disgrace and open shame,
And shew'd her selfe to be so mutable,
With most despightfull, sterne, and cruell face,
As one cleane void of mercy, and of grace.
For she of envious heart and spightfull thought,
In cruell wise did shew her fell intent,
And all at once her malice on him wrought,
As vnto his destruction fully bent.
(So wauering and vnconstant is her mind.
Wherein her greatest pleasure she doth find.)
For which forthwith he made no more delay,
But with a heavy heart, and face full pale,
He did put off his faire and rich array,
And never ceast his fortune to bewaile
With mournfull cheare, still casting downe his head,
And in that sort a dolefull life he led.
Apparelling himselfe in mournfull blacke,
And minding there no longer to abide,
In all the hast he could the [...]iedge vp brake,
And presently to Troy ward forth did ride
With all his hoast, who likewise were full sad,
And for his losse and theirs, great sorrow made.
And when the towne so much defast he found,
And that the walles that were so huge and strong,
So plaine and even beaten were to ground,
And nothing stood, but all was laid along.
The towers that reacht allmost vp to the skie,
And builded were so faire and sumptuously,
Cleane overthrowne with great confusednesse,
His people slaine, and Sister led away,
And all made wast like to a wildernesse,
For griefe, and woe, he wist not what to say:
Such and so great was his extremitie,
But at that time he could't not remedie.
Which made him most extreamly sob and weepe▪
For nothing could his sorrow great asswage,
And from his brest to fetch great sighes and deepe▪
And in that wofull plight and furious rage,
His men and he a mournfull life did lead,
And in the same three daies continued.
Till at the last when clowdes of sorrow backe
Began to cleare, and stormes of woe to cease,
And that their mourning somewhat seem'd to slack
And causd them in their minds to find some ease.
For when the floood of warre is gone and past,
An ebbe of ioy doth follow it in hast,
Still to lament and mourne doth not amend,
But more impaire, and though we vse to waile
And weepe for friends, our sorrow once must end,
For after death teares will then nought availe.)
King Priamus abandoning all care,
Devising how he might the towne repaire.
Determin'd in that great extremitie,
To show himselfe a Prince of courage braue,
And making vertue of necessitie,
Couragiously his credit then to saue.
(When as his sorrowes great orepassed were,)
And that the aire began somewhat to cleare,
And void the mists of his adversitie,
And that the prime of woe and heauinesse,
Night past and gone, was forst away to flie,
By sonne-shine of some new found joyfulnesse.
For that the friend of woe and miserie
Is joy, when men haue past extremitie.
When he had grieu'd in mind a little space,
And long indured sorrow, woe, and smart,
(And that his care did somewhat overpasse)
He rous'd himselfe, and plucking vp his heart,
More ioyfull to his souldiers did appeare,
And so hegan to worke as you shall heare.

CHAP. II.

¶ How King Priam Sonne to Laomedon butl [...] the Cutie of Troy againe, much stronger, greater, and fairer then euer it was before.

KIng Priams sorrow great, and griefe ore-past,
As vnto you before I did declare.)
He purposed vpon the ground made wast,
Where as the ancient monuments first were:
To build a towne much stronger then it was,
Which to effect he did no time let passe.
But straight sent forth into each Countrey,
For certaine men or wit ingenious,
And skilfull worke: men in Geometrie,
That could invent workes fine and curious:
As Masons, Cervers, Carpenters, and all
That skilfull were in Arts mecannicall.
(And wheresoere he could once know or heare
Of any expert workemen of that kind,
He would not spare to send both farre and neare,
Nor never ceast vntill he did them find.)
For such as could devise a stately wall,
With battlements, and rauelings great & small.
For men that were of fine and subtill head,
The Marble stone to pollish with the graine,
And Alablaster white, and Purphier read,
To hew, and cut and make them smoth and plaine,
For gravers of all kind of Images,
And such as Art of painting did professe,
And cunning were their works to beautifie
With colours fresh, that long time would indure.
And that could make an Image with an eye,
As if it were a liuely creature.
And counterfeit in mettall, wood, and stone,
As curious worke as ere Pignalion
Devised, or as Histories doe tell
Apollo could invent, for he did frame
Darius Tombe, the which did so excell
For wormanship, that none ere past the same.
Which th'emperor commanded him to raise,
That men thereby his worthy fame might praise.
He sent likewise for ioyners that had skill
In Cedar, Cipresse, and in Walnut-tree,
To worke and with imbossed flowers to fill
The creasts that round about the walles should bee.
And whosoere in building was erpert,
And praise deserued therein by desert,
Or had the name in workeman-ship [...]excell,
The King would his direction therein haue,
How farre or wide soever he did dwell,
Or what soever wages he would craue.
No cost he spard in any kind of thing,
That he his worke vnto effect might bring.
Intending such a sumptuous Towne to frame,
That it should passe all others whatsoere,
And in most spacious wise to build the same,
For widenes, breadth, & length, that it should beare.
And with so high, so thicke, and strong a wall,
That when soever warre should him befall,
The enemy by no meanes might it take.
And to begin he made them dig the ground,
(Whereas the walles should stand that he wold make
To compasse and enclose the Citie round.)
Within the selfe same ruind place, whereas
The ancient towne of Troy first builded was.
Inlarging them much more then first they were,
By many miles, for that the towne new made
He purposed should greater compasse beare,
Then th'ancient Towne in circuit euer had.
And in so holsome aire the same did place,
That it vnto all men delightfull was.
The compasse of the walles so shaped out,
The workemen did begin to build the same,
Which being raisd and set vp round about,
They markt the streets, and did the howses frame
Of great and goodly stones, both square & rosid
The like whereof was no where to be found.
In all the world, (for buiding passing faire,)
If that the same throghout you shold haue sought.
The workeman-ship so curious was and rare,
That for to beautifi't it wanted nought.
I am too simple witted to define,
Aud tell how they did worke by rule and line.
Or to discribe the same in every part,
But well I dare affirme and witnesse beare,
It was so fram'd by cunning and by Art,
That of the like I nere did read nor heare.
And that it might haue great prosperity,
High honor, fame, and much felicity.
As soone as it was made he did it name
As it before was cald the towne of Troy,
And sole [...]ly did dedicate the same
To Neptune, with great triumphe, feats, and ioy,
(On whom the Troians chiefely did depend,
And therefore hope't he would the same defend
The length which in the walles it did include,
Right forth was three daies iourney and no lesse,
As much likewise in had in Latitude,
Which both compar'd the compasse doe expresse,
And show to be iust nine daies fully out,
Ere that a man could travell in about.
The like to it was never mentioned
Nor spoken off in any History,
Before or after to be edified,
Wherin so great a length and breadth did lie.
Nor yet so faire and beautif [...]ll to see
As Guido doth report the same to bee.
The walles in hight three hundred Cubits were,
Imbatled and bul warked for fight:
And in their thicknesse such proportion bare,
That Cannon sho [...] [...] them had no might.
And all the walles and howses in the towne
Were Marble mi [...] with Alablaster stone.
Which made it show so faire and delectable,
That since this earthly globe did first begin,
No Citie vnto [...] comparable,
That ever mortall man did enter in.
And at the end of every wall was plast
A Crowne of gold, with precious stones inchast▪
And round about the walles were towers set
Most beautifully and faire of Marble cleare,
And Alablaster fine, and shining jet,
Which gainst the sunne so glistring did appeare,
That as by them men longst the walles past vnder,
It stroke into their minds no little wonder.
To enter in the towne the story sayes,
Six beautifull and goodly gates there were,
Whereof the first was cald Dardamides,
The second did the name of [...] beare.
The third of them was called Helias,
The forth it had the name of Cethe [...],
The fift Troian, the sixt of them and last
Antinorides called. And on each side
At th'entring in of euery gate was plast
Two towers of stone, that were both spuare & wide
Before the which great Images did [...]and
Like Giants fell, with Pollaxes in hand.
And seem'd as if the entry they would let,
To euery one that through the gates did passe.
And on each terret likewise there was set,
The shapes of Tigers, Lyons, Beares, and Asse,
Bores, Bulls, and Harts, (with great and spacious
Fierce Dragos, Elophāts, & Vnicornes, (hornes)
All made of Copper, Latin, and of Brasse
So finely and so cunningly contriu'd,
That to behold them pleasure great it was,
For that they shew'd as if that they had liu'd▪
And seemd to threaten, grin at, and menace,
Such as did stand to looke them in the face.
About the towne for safegard and refuge,
Were many Bulwarks plast assaults to beare.
And at each gate Portcullices most huge
Of Iron strong, in warlike wise there were.
And for more strength the gates of brasse composd
The which within with massy barres were clos'd.
And crost with stakes, deepe pi [...]cht into the ground,
And chained vp for safety and defence,
So that no way there was, [...] be found
To enter in the [...] by violence.
The gates once shut, [...]ot it by strength to take,
Or forcibly [...]battery to make.
The howses in the [...]owne were finely plast
In even streets, not scattered here and there,
Not one of them in height the other past,
But all alike, iust [...] [...].
Most cunningly devisd and fram'd each one
Of Marble, and of costly Burpheir stone.
To tell you of the curious Masonrie,
Of grauen kno [...], and Antic [...]e works most braue,
Devisd to please the fine and curious eye,
I know my selfe too little wit to haue:
And though I would them name in english verse,
Yet would it be too long time to rehearse.
They are so many, strange, and rare to tell,
For that betweene the stones and morter were,
(So much they did in su [...]ptuousnesse excell.)
Thin plates of Copper gilt thrust in most faire,
To make them ioyne by level and by line, (shine.
Which mongst the Marble stones most cleare did
Against the Sunne, when as his Orient light
With radiant beames did from the christall skie
Smite on the gold, and made it glister bright,
And giue a show most beautifull to th'eie.
The streets likewise were set so large and wide,
With iust and equall distance on each side,
(By workemen worthy praise for rare devise,)
That no infectio [...]s aire once them annoyd▪
Within the towne, nor any mists did rise,
But presently againe did soone avoid.
Because there was so great and wide a space
Within the streets, the same away to chase
By wind, whose blasts most sweet and comfortable,
Did yeild so pleasant aire within the towne,
Which to the Troians was so delectable,
As in the streets they passed vp and downe:
That vnto them it was a great comfort,
When as they walks abroad to play and sport.
And through the towne in every street was made
Long galleries, that stood on pillars strong
Of Marble stone, (which such douises had
Of Pinacles, and arches wide and long,
That they most faire and beautifull did show,)
Deuised [...]rie [...]e head for men to go.
When as it chanst to raine, [...]d haile, or snow,
As also vnder them to sit and walke,
When stormes of wind in bolshous wise did b [...]
And therein to conferre, consult▪ and talke,
As marchants vse in townes for common we [...]e,
To meet about their marchandize to deale.
The howses covered were cleane ouer head,
(As being flat aboue that men might go
Thereon,) with plancks, and over that with lead,
With spouts full [...]ong the water forth to throw
Into the streets, from whence it past away
Through grates, which did the same from thēce cō [...]ay
The streets were smothly pau'd in chequer wise,
With pollisht stories of colourred and white.
And any Trade whatsoere man could devise,
King Priam vsd and sought all meanes he might
To bring't into the towne, where men did see
Each severall Art in severall streets to bee.
That so they might for more commoditie,
And better meanes to sell and vent their ware,
Worke by themselues at their one libertie,
As goldsmith rich that se [...]lles the jewels rare.
Th'imbroderer, and weauers of each kind.
The Mercers in whose costly shops men find
Rich cloth of Gold, of Arras, Tapistrie,
Of sendall, and of Taffetie most faire,
And every other stuffe which vsually
The weauers make, and commonly men were.
Smiths also, that could make and forge full well
Darts, Daggers, swords, & speares of perfect steele
Pollaxes, billes, and kniues most sharpely ground,
And arrowe heads, with other weapons more
That in the fields are vsd, were therein found.
Of Bowyers, and of fletchers eke great store.
And such as make coat armors faire and braue,
And ensignes which in field men vse to haue.
And euery other kind of furniture
For Marshall men, which commonly we see
Worne in the warre, and dayly put in vre.
And euery other Art that nam'd may bee
Was in that towne most plentifully found,
So much it did in every thing abound.
And through the towne a Riuer swift and cleare
Did passe along, deviding it in twaine,
Which on each side great store of Milles did beare
In time of need to grind each kind of graine:
The name whereof was Xa [...]tas as I find,
Which did abound with fish of euery kind.
Which River was so cunningly conuaid,
That in the arches built vpon the same,
Great store of pipes of lead were closely layd,
Whereby into the houses water came,
And serued many Conduits in the towne,
And scowr'd the filth away as it ran downe
In channels which did run cleane vnder ground,
Whereby they were washt and scowred cleane:
That neither filth nor durt was to be found,
Nor in the towne could any way be seene▪
And was convaied thence so secretly,
That no man could the passage thereof spie:
Wherby you might haue gon throughout the street,
And neither durt, nor dunghill once haue seene,
Which made the Towne so pleasant and so sweet,
Because that it was kept so faire and cleane,
That it was void of all corruption,
Pestiferous aire and fowle jnfection.
Which often by their force and violence
Doe breed continuall fowle and noysome smels,
And are the onely cause of pestilence.
A River like to this (as Virgill tells)
Within the towne of Roome devised was,
Cald Tiber, which through the midst therof doth passe.
To people this so great and famous towne,
The Troyans being but in number small:
King Priam sent to each place vp and downe,
In countreys farre and neere, to moue and call
All men to come and to jnhabite there,
Respecting not from whence they came, or were▪
And made them free to trafficke and to deale
Within the Towne, as natiue Countrey-men.
By that meanes to enrich the common-weale
Of his new Towne. Which being done, and when
It did begin with people to increase,
And that they liu'd in pleasure, wealth, & peace;
King Priam moued with gseat affection
Which vnto Mars the God of warre he had,
Determined of pure devotion,
In honour of his name, there should be made
A yeerely Iusts, where valiantly on horse
Each Knight should shew his power, strength, & force.
Within the towne, to win renowne and fame,
And to that end a place he did ordaine
All raild about, of purpose for the same,
Which halfe a mile in circuit did containe.
To wrastle in, and at the Barriers fight,
With playes in the Isle of Greet of ancient right.
Were long since found, and onely dedicate
To Mars their God, for they did then beleeue
By doing so he would preserue their state,
And in their need would aid them and releeue,
The like did noble Priamus fur [...]ise,
And to that end-those triumphs did devise.
Men sayd within this towne was first found out
The game of Chests, so subtill and so wise,
Which who so plaies (beleeue it without dout,)
Must driue out of his head all fantasies:
It is so full of shifts, and subtiltie,
And more and more a man may still devise.
Whereby if men should study all their daies,
To learne the skill of this so curious game;
He neuer could remember halfe the plaies,
That are and may be vsed in the same.
It doth consist of such diuersitie,
Of wards found out by skill and subtiltie.
Of Troians as mine Author testifies.
Which his supposed meere oppinion,
Iacobus de Vitriaco denies,
And in his Booke for truth makes mention
How that a graue Philosopher and wise,
Cald Philometer, first did it devise.
In Caldea with pollicy he wrought
To stay a tyrants fierce and furious mind.
And though frō thence it into Greece was brought.
They say likewise the Troians first did find
The playes of dice and tables dayly vsd,
Which since that time had been so much abusd.
For that in them there is so great deceit
By false and cousning dice, and wrangling play,
Which many vse the simple sort to cheat▪
That much debate ariseth night and day,
Mongst ihose that dayly excercise doe make
Of play and game, and pleasure therein take▪
For if the dice doe favor men a while,
And giue them leaue to win by happy chance:
An other time againe they [...]them beguile,
Which makes the players fall at variance.
For that when as they thinke to mend their state,
By play at dice they proue vnfortunate.
And many that are plunged in distresse,
And by their play made needy poore and bare,
By playe sometime attaine to great riches,
And some mans joy procures an others care,
And by a chance at hassard or passage,
Ones glad and laughes, an other he doth rage.
For if one win, another doth contrary,
Like as the bones are throwne out of the hand
An Hundred times a day, th'are seene to varry
And no man can his chance at them withstand.
Wherefore I wish each man such play to shunne,
Least that he loose, and so may be vndone.
In Troy likewise they vsed comedies,
In Theaters for pleasures and delight:
And many strange and stately Tragedies,
Which vsually were playd both day and night.
The difference whereof that you may know,
I will in briefe the same vnto you show.
A Comedie doth many times begin
With actions, that dislike at first doe cause,
But at the last as men proceed therein,
They end in joy, with gladnesse, and applause:
And onely speakes of men of meane degree,
And such as fallen are in povertie.
A Tragedy contrarily doth treate
Of matters which doe prosperously proceed,
And showes the liues and hearts of persons great,
As Princes which in honour doe exceed,
But ends with sorrow, griefe, and miserie,
That happeneth vnto them before they die.
And also tells how fortune doth beguile
Full nany Kings, and Emperors of fame,
Whose acts she seemes to favor for a while,
But at the last she brings them vnto shame,
And turnes their glory into miserie,
To make of them a woefull Tragedie.
The manner how their Tragedies they playd
Was in this sort, whereas they did devise,
(Within a Theater, as first I sayd,)
To set an Altar made halfe circle wise,
Which on the top a loftie pulpit bare,
Wherein there stood a Poet to declare
With Eloquent and Rethoricion phrase,
The noble deeds of Kings and Princes great,
And eke the fame of Conquerors to rayse,
Which in their liues by valor they did get.
And how that they with lawrell crowned were
For their deserts, as stories witnes beare.
An'd liud in honour great, tell Parchas fell
Did end their liues, by stroke of Atropos.
And afer that in mournefull wise did tell,
How piteously each one the same did lose,
And were by Fortune brought vnto their end,
Gainst whom it is but folly to contend.
And how the fine of all their worthines,
Their honour, fame, and magnanimitie,
Was onely sorrow, and great heavines:
Procur'd by treason false, or subtilty,
By murther, poyson, or by enmity,
Wrath, or despight, or some extremity.
And how their floud of joy was not so hie,
But that at last it had an ebbe as low.
And how that Fortune by her subtiltie
To show her spight, had wrought their overthrow.
All this with face full pale the Poet sayd.
And while that he within the pulpit staid,
Their jssued forth out of another place,
Men purposely disguisd and clad, which plaid
With gastly and with pale and deadly face,
By signes, all whatsoere the Poet said.
Twixt whom no difference was in any thing,
For What the Poet spake, or loud did sing,
They on the ground the same did represent,
And shew'd by outward gestures what had hapt
To Princes in their liues, and how they spent
Their daies on earth, till fortune them intrapt.
And suddenly orewhelming their estate,
Did end their liues by death vnfortunate.
These sports they vsed commonly to play
When Birds for ioy in woods and bushes sing,
In pleasant months of Aprill and of May,
To see the tree and flower begin to spring.
Thus haue you heard how Tragedies began,
And in what place they first were plaid, & whan.
Now will I show how Priam did proceed,
(When as the Towne of Troy erected was)
To build a stately Pallace with all speed,
Which did the rest of all his works surpasse.
And high vpon a rocke did place the same
In midst of Troy, and Ilion did it name.
The forme whereof was round as any ball,
Well wald about with Marble faire and cleare:
And other costly stones mixt therewithall,
And did in hight six hundred paces beare,
With Towers high and great, that whose would
Mount vp the same, might round about behold
The Countrey farre and neare, as it did lie,
And all the walles within, and eke without
Imbost with knots and flowers most curiously,
And richly guilt, and painted thoro [...]ghout.
Whereon when as the Sun shines cleare & bright,
The gold did cast a most exceeding light.
And in the midst of this his Pallace faire,
A sumptuous great and stately hall there stood,
(Which did in lēgth & breadth like distance beare)
All fram'd of Cedar tree and Heban wood,
(Which Heban tree they say is onely found
In Ethiopia, and the India ground.
Which colour hath as blacke as any jet,
And beeing cut, and wrought, doth waxe so hard,
That it will not consume with any wet.)
The pauement vnder foot was marble squard,
Both white and gray, which chequor wise did lie,
And made it show most beautifull to th'eie.
Within this hall was plast a royall throane,
Which was King Priams seat Maiesticall,
All made of Iasper and of Purphire stone,
Most richly guilt to beautifie't withall.
At foot whereof a sumptuous table stood,
Halfe Ivory, and halfe of Heban wood,
And on each side thereof were diuers chaires,
Wherein King Priams counsellors did sit,
There to consult about his chiefe affaires,
As often times they vsed were to meet.
Two daynty Tables fram'd of Heban tree,
Stood longst the walles with bords of Iuorie.
And opposite against the regall chaire,
At th'other end an Altar made of brasse,
[...]nchased, gilt, and grauen passing faire,
There stood, whereon an Image great there was
Of massie gold which Priam placed there,
In honor of his God cald Iupiter.
This Image fifteene Cubits high was made,
Besides the waight, that equall substance bare,
And on the head a Crowne of gold it hath,
Wherein were plast great store of Iewels rare,
As Rubies red, and Saphirs Christa [...]line,
With many oryent pearles round and fine.
And mongst the rest a Carbuncle most bright
And passing cleare was set in midst of all,
Which at all times did cast so great a light,
That night and day, that great and spacious hall,
Did show as bright, as if that sonne, or moone
Within the same continually had showne.
Which rich and stately Image was so well
And cunningly composd in euery part,
That from the head to foot it did excell
[...]n skilfull worke, deuisd by curious Art.
Who therein did not once seeme to deny,
His aid and helpe the same to beautifie.
And framed thus, it was to represent
Great Iupiter one of the Planets seaven,
(The which as Poets fainedly invent,
The Pagans thought to be a God in heauen.)
Which Priam held to be of power so great,
That he in him his whole a [...]iance set.
To him he prayd in his necessitie,
And had in him so firme affection,
That onely to his fained Deiti [...],
He did addict his whole devotion.
Supposing by his vertue, power and might,
To be preseru'd from harmes both day & night.
And onely vnto him he did commend
The care of his estate and dignitie,
Beleeuing that he would him still defend
In all distresse, and with prosperitie
Vphold his throane by his protection,
Such was his fond and vaine opinion.
This Image and this Pallace Ilyon,
Thus being made, and fully finished,
And every thing brought to perfection,
Which Priam had forecast and purposed
Full many yeares in his new towne of Troy:
He raignd in peace, in honor, and in joy.
And long might haue possest this happy state,
If fortune had not chang'd her smiling cheare,
(As all things subiect are to cursed [...]ate)
And brought him to decay, as you shall heare
By sequell of the story, where is showne
how he and his in [...]ine were overthrowne.

CHAP. III.

¶ How King Priam sent Anthenor into Greece, to haue his Sister Exion restored home againe.

OH cursed fiend which lurkest in the brest
Of man, inflam'd with thy most furious fier:
And never suffrest him to liue in rest,
Till that thou hast jncenced him with ire
To take reuenge for wrong, wherein thou ioy'st,
Not caring though all other thou annoy'st.
Thou seed of strife and root of all offence,
Why causest thou old sores againe to smart
With rancor, and through fowle jmpatience,
When thou once creepst into an envious hart,
Provoking it no time nor houre to cease
From hatefull thoughts, nor seeking any peace?
What needest thou thy malice to vnfold,
The ashes of discord againe to sift,
And causing a new debate to rise of old,
And halfe forgotten enuie? But thy drift
Is onely to procure the woe and fine,
Of those that to thy nature doe incline.
Why hast thou wak't King Priam from his rest,
And with thy poyson fowle incenst his braine,
That he in mind and heart should so detest
A quiet life, and through perswasions vaine,
Procured him to seeke revenge in hast,
Vpon the Greekes for harmes so long forepast?
For where as he in peace did rule and raigne
With honour great, and no man him annoyd;
The Serpent Enuie entring in his braine,
By no meanes would from thence againe avoyd:
But with such deepe impression there did rest,
And did so much inflame his furious brest
With his inveterate malice new reviu'd,
That by no meanes he could the same forget:
Whereby for ever after while he liu'd,
He brought on him and his such trouble great,
That wheretofore h'enioy'd a happy life,
His blisse was turn'd to bloody warre and strife.
For Priam in his riches glorying,
(Wherein as then he tooke no small delight,)
Imagining his state so flourishing,
His Towne of so great puissance and might,
His war-like Knights so many and so strong,
That no man could, no [...] durst him offer wrong.
Was so possest with Enuie, and with Pride,
That hap what would he had in heart forecast,
To take no rest vntill that he had tride,
How he might be reuengd for wrongs forepast.
Which to effect with full intent and mind,
He did a time and fit occasion find
To summon all his Lords and Knights each one
To make repaire, (all scuses set aside)
Vpon a day perfixt at Ilion.
Which his command not any one denide,
But there with speed did presently appeare,
Where all his sonnes likewise assembled were,
But Hector. Who from Troy as then was gon
Into the Province of Panomie,
Which Priam held in his subiection,
A new rebellion there to pacifie.
The which not long before was rais'd among
The Countrey people there for certaine wrong.
But Hector well advis'd and patient,
Loth to reuenge, where mercie might take place,
With curtesie so wanne them to content,
That he appeased them, and offring grace
And pardon vnto all that did repent,
Each one with satisfaction home he sent.
Such was the great and noble princely mind
Of that most braue renown'd and valiant Knight,
Alwaies vnto his subiects iust and kind,
And rather did in mercie more delight,
Then vse the force and rigor of the law,
When as in them no great offence he saw.
Meane while the King that held an open court,
With entertainment great and Princely cheare
Did wellcome all that thither did resort,
Which being done, and they assembled were
In open hall, he did with courage bold
And words most graue, his mind began t'vnfold
And sayd, my Lords assembled heere as now,
Whose loyalty I haue no cause to doubt,
I am assurd not any one of you
But well doth know what vnto vs fell out,
When as the Grecians causeles did inuade
Our Towne, and what a spoile therof they made.
And how with extreame barbrous crueltie,
They murthered our Subiects every one:
The memory whereof cannot but lie
As fresh within your thoughts, as it were done
But th'other day, for't may not out your mind,
If to your Countrey you be kind.
For sure in my oppinion I suppose,
Nought can you moue vnto forgetfulnesse
Of harmes forepast, by your most deadly foes,
Nor can you be without great heavines
To thinke thereon, for I must plainely tell,
Out of my heart I can it not expell.
For yet me thinks I see it with mine eie,
So fresh it is and yet doth still remaine
within my brest, and ever there shall lie.
(The which) I hope you likewise doe retaine,
To thinke how they haue slaine our Ancestors
(If while they liu'd were valiant warriors.)
Our Cittie burnt, and brought vnto decay,
And left it wast like to a wildernes,
And borne and taken forcibly away,
All that they found, our goods, and our riches.
And slayne my Father King Laomedon,
Without all cause or just occasion.
Amends whereof we lawfully may craue,
And both with reason, and with conscience,
Which all the Gods, I trust will let vs haue,
Sith that by vs was offered none offence.
But mongst all their so extreame crueltie,
One thing there is which chiefly grieueth me,
When as I call to mind their villany
In offering such wrong to Exion,
With whom, as with his concubine doth lie
The proud and hautie Grecian Telamon,
Abusing her with great dishonestie,
Not caring for her state nor high degree.
Nor if she was the daughter of a King,
Which vnto me can be no little scorne.
But they as seemes, respect not any thing,
Iudge then if she that is so highly borne
Be vsed so, with what extreamitie
Poore wiues and mayds, of them abus'd shall be,
With others of your friends and your alies,
Within their hands as captiues then did fall,
Assure your selues what wrongs they can devise
To doe to them, to vex you therewithall,
They will not spate to vse them in their lust,
For in the Greekes there is no truth nor trust.
For neither bewtie, age, ne high estate
Doe they respect, but all like slaues doe liue,
So that in heart I cannot chuse but hate
Their cursed race, and you likewise must grieue
As well as I, for you as well as me
It doth concerne. Therefore reueng'd to be
Should be your care, and bend your onely thought
To find the meanes your wrongs for to redresse,
For long ere now the same we should haue sought,
And haue relieu'd our friends from their distresse.
Let vs therefore joyne all with one consent,
And in our hearts jmprint a firme jntent
Of all their malice, rapes, and crueltie,
To be reuenged, for if that we vnite
Our minds in one, it cannot chuse but be
A doubling of our strength, and we shall fight
With courage bold, for vengeance doth belong,
As reason is, to him that offereth worng.
And though till now wee haue deferred it,
Yet doubt I not but wee a time shall find,
To yeeld to them such measure as they mete,
And vse both them and their in selfe same kind.
And all the Gods I hope will vs assist
In our just cause, and the in wrong resist.
You know our Towne is strong, and walld about
With high and mightie Towers for the warre,
The like whereof in all the world throughout,
Is not to find that with it may compare.
So that we may be well assur'd therein,
That th'enemy by force shall never win.
Of men and valiant Knights we haue no want,
For all you know what number we can make:
Our store of victualls also is not scant,
And whensoeuer we shall vndertake
To enter warre we need not be afraid,
But we shall likewise find some forren aid
To help vs to revenge our open wrong.
Wherefore I thinke that now the time is fit,
(Sith that we know our selues to be so strong)
To [...]et on them, and not still jdle sit,
For valor bids vs make no more delay
To be revengd, hap what so ever may.
The Proverb saith, delay may danger breed,
For by delay men often times are crost,
And to take time when time doth fall with speed,
I never heard by it that men haue lost.
And sith we nothing want, why should we pau [...]
And stay revenge in our so iust a cause?
But least we might too hasty be esteem'd,
And wilfull thought to runne so carelesly
Vnto the warre, which alwaies hath been deem'd
A doubtfull thing. We will not doggedly
Bite ere we barke, but first to Greece weele send,
To know if that they will our wrongs amend.
Which if they seeme vnto vs to refuse,
And obstinately will deny the same,
Then may we iustly force and power vse,
And no man for it can, nor may vs blame.
But first we will, with curtesie assay,
To see if we can win them by that way.
But if that they refuse with gentlenesse
To hrare vs speake, when as we are content
To aske amends, with peace and quietnesse,
I hope in th'end they shall the same repent:
For better tis by peace to haue redresse,
Then seeke for warre with vnadvisednesse.
Therefore let vs with patience yet indure
Our wrongs; and our great iniuries sustaine
In humble wise, vntill we may procure,
That they to vs an answere send againe▪
For though it be my whole and full desire,
And that our iust occasion doth require,
In furious sort of them to take vengeance,
I will as t'were in meere forgetfulnesse,
Put all their wrongs out of remembrance,
And cleane expell all griefe and heavinesse
Out of my heart, and of them aske no more,
But that they will againe to me restore
My Sister that vnto me is so deare.
There by to stint all bloody warre and strife,
And for the rest we shall with patience beare,
And never cal't in question during life.
Which to fulfill [...] purposely am bent,
If you thereto will giue your full consent.
Speake then my Lords, are you content to stay
Till that they answere make to our request,
Say all with one consent, your yea or nay,
And what for vs to do you thinke is best.
For I do meane Anthenor straight shall goe
Vnto the Greeks, our mind herein to show.
Of whose discretion, courage, and advise,
You need not once to doubt, for I haue knowne,
And found him by experience to be wise,
When he of other messages hath gone.
And therefore I of him my choyse doe make,
And thinke him fit that charge to vndertake.
The King thus hauing spoken as you heare,
The Lords and all the Nobles did agree,
That Lord Anthenor should the message beare
From them vnto the Greeks, and straight should be
Dispatcht, and with instructions sent away,
With charge he should no longer time delay,
But wind and weather serving straight set sayle,
Who hauing his instruction, and at large
Informd therein, as carefull not to fayle
In any point that should concerne his charge:
Did presently take ship for Thessalie,
Where being landed with his companie,
He went to seeke the King cald Peleus,
Who at that time the story saith, remaind
Within a Citie named Monosius,
Of whom he was at first well entertaind.
But when that he the cause did partly know
Wherefore he came, he willed him to show
Th'effect of his Embassage and his charge,
And with a frowning looke and visage fell,
Sat still till that Anthenor did at large
With courage bold the same vnto him cell,
With words most graue, and such as fitting were
For time and place, & spake as you shall heare.
Priam the most renowned King of Troy,
My Soveraigne Lord, his Princely Maiestie
Wishing to your grace prosperitie and ioy,
In friendly wise saluteth you by me.
A messenger expresly by him sent,
To shew to you his will and his intent.
If you vouchsafe to giue me audience,
Wherein if that in ought I shall offend,
I you beseech to heer't with patience,
And let the law of armes my guilt defend.
For as you know Embassadors are free,
To tell their message what soere it bee.
Your Grace I thinke doth yet remember well,
What wrongs of late by you and yours were done,
In Troian Land when ye with hearts most fell
And cruell minds the same did overcome,
And how without cause or occasion,
You brought them all vnto destruction,
The Citie burnt, and vtterly throwne downe,
Their riches by you tane and borne away,
How that the noble King Laomedon
As then was slaine, and would your rage not stay,
But in your fury, Children, Wiues, and men,
Were all destroyd, and murthered as then.
Some Mayds except, which to fulfill your lust
You led with you into captiuitie.
Which iniuries so great and most vniust,
(Deserving name of barbarous crueltie)
You may suppose cannot forgotten bee,
And yet mongst all this great indignitie,
One thing there is, which doth King Priam grieue
M [...]re then the rest, which is that Exion
His sister Captiue here in Greece doth liue,
And held a Concubine by Telamon
Dishonestly, not like a noble Knight,
Whose care should be with all his power & might
To saue and keepe poore Ladies in distresse:
But regarding nought her high degree,
By no meanes will this open wrong redresse,
But he still persisteth in his villanie.
Which his so great and fowle an oversight
(Most noble King) belongs to you of right
To looke into; and with a Princely care,
Seeke to restraine as much as in you lies,
Such foule misdeeds, and as a friend you are
To Telamon, see how you may deuise
T'amend and to redresse the iniurie,
Wherein consisteth true Nobility.
This thing hath caus'd King Priam now to moue
Your Grace with this embassage by me brought,
For to intreat in friendship and in loue,
That by your mediation may be wrought
The meanes, that Exion may deliuered be,
Out of her thraldome and captiuitie.
Which recompence so small he doth request,
For all the wrongs that vnto him were done
By you and yours, so much he doth detest
To liue in warre and strife, which for to shun
He is content all quarrells to surcease,
Desiring onely her returne with peace.
Which his request so lawfull, if you will
Procure King Telamon to grant with speed,
He you assures his promise to fulfill,
Or else he must by force of armes proceed:
Which by this meanes he doth desire to stay,
And this my Lord is all I haue to say.
When Peleus had Anthenors message heard,
His heart was so possest with wrath and ire,
That on him with a furious looke he star'd,
With eies enfiam'd as red as any fire:
And with dispightfull and incensed heart,
Vpon his feet did sodainlie vp start.
Disdainfullie reiecting the request
By Priam made, and setting him at nought,
Said, that both him and his he did detest,
Euen from his verie soule and inward thought:
Commanding Lord Anthenor not to stay,
But presentlie to get him thence away,
On perill that thereafter might befall▪
Which he in hast did presentlie obay,
And vnto him his companie did call,
With whome he made no longer time of stay:
But thence did saile directlie to a [...]owne
Salerne nam'd, which long'd to Telamon.
Whereas the King and all his Lords then were,
And to the Court Anthe [...]or straight did hie,
Where when he did before the King appeare,
At first he entertaind him courteouslie:
And without seeming once to take offence,
With present speed did grant him audience
For Exions sake, who then stood by his side,
For otherwise in heart he sore abhord
All Troyans, and by no meanes could abide
To see or heare of them, nor yet afford
A friendly thought of them, such was his rage
Gainst thē conceau [...]d, that nothing could't asswage.
This nere the lesse, he was content to heare
Anthenor speake, and patientlie to stay,
Till that he had with words that see mely were,
Declared what as then he had to say:
Who hauing to the King his reuerence made,
With courage bold vnto him spake, and said,
Most noble Prince sith that it pleases your Grace,
To heare the message which as now I bring
With patience, and t'afford me time and space,
For to declare the same, and euery thing
That's giuen me in charge, I will not stay,
But tell it you as briefly as I may.
Know then great King (without offence be't done)
That Priam King of Troye my soueraigne Lord,
Desirous strife and bloudie warre to shun,
Intreateth you in friendly wise t'afford
This fauour vnto him, to be content,
And thereto giue your full and free consent:
That Exion may her libertie obtaine,
And be deliuered from Captiuitie,
Whome you do hold as I must tell you plaine,
In slauish wise not like to her degree,
And to her great dishonour and her shame.
For which, although he may you iustlie blame,
Yet he content all wrongs to pacifie,
And peace and loue with you and yours to hold,
Desireth that you will him not denie
This his request, and that vouchsafe you would,
For to restore her vnto him with speed,
Which doing you shall act a Princely deed.
And saue your honor now imblemished,
By wronging her whome you so much abuse,
Wherein you haue so long time been misled,
That truth to say, you can it not excuse:
Yet he's content to lay this wrong aside,
And many more, so that you will prouide
To send her vnto Troye without delay,
And this is all the sum and full effect,
Of that I had in charge to you to say,
The which if that you seeme now to reiect:
It will old hate and enmitie reuiue,
Speake now my Lord what answere you will giue.
When Telamon had heard Anthenor speake,
And knew King Priams will and his desire,
He did into such extreame chollor breake,
That both his eyes did shine like flaming fire,
And in his face was not a drop of blood,
So that with cheeks most pale and angry mood
He lookt aside, and turning vp the white
Of both his eies, with most disdainfull smile,
Gnasht all his teeth, and seemd his tong to bite,
And after hauing paws'd a little while,
With furious voyce shewd forth the mortall hate,
That burnt within his heart most obstinate.
Saying, my friend what euer that thou be,
I muse in heart what strange and sodaine thing
Hath mooued Priam thus to send to me,
And that thou darst so proud a message bring:
I thinke thee but a foole or else starke mad,
That of thy selfe so little care hast had,
To put thy life in danger for his sake,
With whom I neuer had nor haue to deale,
Nor he with me, and this account do make
Neuer will haue, and so thou mayst him tell:
And as we haue acquaintance very small,
He may be well assured, I neither shall,
Nor will do any thing at his request,
For that it wholy is against my mind
With him to deale, and let that be his rest,
Which by experience plainly he shall find,
If so he list to try if that he may,
Fetch her by force of armes from me away.
This well I wot that but a while agoe,
I crost the seas with many Grecians more,
And saild to Troye, and if that thou wilt know
The cause? it was, for that not long before,
Laomedon had vs a trespasse done,
And for the same the Towne by force we wonne,
And slew the King, and all that with him held,
Not cowardly, as you perchance suppose,
But Knightly meeting him in open field.
And for I entred first vpon our foes
Into the Towne, by full consent of all
The Grecian Lords, vnto my share did fall
This faire and Princely Lady Exion,
Of whome I presently was there possest,
And since that time haue held her for mine owne,
And euerwill, let Priam doe his best
To fetch her hence, and therefore 'tis in vaine
For thee to send for her, I tell thee plaine.
For be assur'd, and trust me if thou wilt,
Thou getst her not from me if that I may,
And rather shall my dearest blood be spilt,
And many thousands more, before that day
Shall ere be seen that I will her forsake,
Though all the world her quarrell vndertake.
Thinkst thou I will so easly let her goe,
Whome for to win much of my blood was lost,
And for her did receaue so many a blow,
No sure, for that full deare she hath me cost:
And in good faith ile let her if I can,
From going from me to another man.
So deare her person and her seemly grace,
Her beautie, bounty, and her comlinesse,
Her faire and passing amiable face,
And all her Princely gifts I must confesse
Are printed in the closet of my heart,
That while I liue from thēce they shall not part.
Let Priam therefore doe the vttermost
That he can do, he shall but loose his paine,
For neuer did a thing so dearely cost,
As she shall do ere he haue her againe:
For nought can her redeeme but sword & speare,
And deepe and gastly wounds that mortall are.
For there shall sure be raised such a strife
And deadly warre ere she restored be,
That it will cost full many a man his life.
This is the answere that thou getst of me,
And bid thy Master when he list begin,
But I suppose he will but little win.
And for thy selfe, as first to thee I told,
I thinke thee mad, and more presumptuous
Then thou shouldst be, that darest be so bold
To bring this message so audacious,
The noble Grecians therewith to offend.
But let him thee no more vnto me send
On perill of thy life, that may betide
To thee for thy reward, and now get hence
With speed I thee command, for if thou bide
Here longer in my sight to breed offence,
Thou knowst the price (who euer sayeth nay)
Therefore be gone, and see thou make no stay.
Anthenor hearing this, without delay
Straight entred ship, and put to Sea in hast,
And sailed to an Island nam'd Achay,
Where when that he on shore had anchor cast,
He heard that both the Kings as then abode
Within the Isle, and presently he road
Vnto their Court, which was not very far,
And there he found thē both, to whom with speed
He shewd the cause that made him to repaire
To them as then, and so gan to proceed
With words most graue and courage bold & stout,
To tell his mind without all feare or doubt.
And said, my Lords, whose power here extends
For to command, may't please your Graces both
To know, that Priam King of Troye me sends
To you in Princely wise (as being loth
To giue offence) your ayd and helpe to haue,
T'obtaine a suite that he would gladly craue
Of Telamon, who gainst all equity
Doth hold his Sister Princesse Exion
As Concubine, with great indignity,
Whose liberty and restitution
To him againe, is onely his desire,
Which to effect he humbly doth require
You would vouchsafe your ayd therein t'afford,
Not doubting but as y'are discreet and wise,
That by your mediation and good word,
King Telamon will follow your aduise:
And Exion shall to him restored be,
Out of her long and hard captiuity.
Which his request he praies you not deny,
As you are Kings, for valour, high renownd,
Discreet, and wise, and of great maiesty.
And he shall thinke himselfe to you much bound,
And all his former wrong he will suspend,
For that to liue in peace he doth intend.
As he that is right prudent and discreet,
Forecasting what may after come to passe,
And seeth what perills and what dangers great
Doe follow warre, which neuer is nor was
Without confusion, misery and woe,
As Histories vnto vs plainly shoe:
Which to eschew he thinketh it the best
And wisest way, for euery man t'auoid
The hatefull path of strife, and it detest,
For by it many a Country is destroid:
Which by this meanes he is in hope to shun,
And that hath made him doe as he hath done:
In peace to craue your aid, that Exion
May be with speed sent home to him againe.
And thogh you may suppose that cause ther's none,
Why he should you request to take this paine
In his behalfe, let this be his excuse,
That Princes ought to punish all abuse.
And by all meanes should seeke the same to stay,
He in like case desires your Princely aid,
And hopes you will it not to him denay,
And he will thinke himselfe full well apaid:
This is the summe of his petition,
Which he referres to your discretion.
When both the Kings, Castor, and Polux had
Attentiuely heard what Anthenor spake;
King Castor sodainlie like one halfe mad,
Into such choller and impatience brake,
That by no meanes he could his furie stay,
But in most wrathfull wise to him did say:
I know not friend why thou of vs shouldst craue,
To haue amends for trespasse by vs done
Vnto the King, to whome we neuer gaue▪
Cause of offence. But when Laomedon
First offring wrong to vs, we did inuade,
And of his Towne a noble conquest made.
Wherein we did but right and equitie:
For had not he first offered offence
To vs and ours with great indignitie,
We nere had sought for any recompence,
Nor he nor his been brought vnto their ends.
For which if that thy Master aske amends
At our hands, tell him 'tis all too late,
For we with him desire no vnitie,
Peace nor accord, but rather mortall hate,
Dissention, strife, and vtter enmitie:
Which he may chance hereafter for to feele,
If that he dare presume with vs to deale.
For we so little do his friendship prise,
That what he saith or doth I doe not care,
Therefore if that he'le follow our aduise,
Let him prepare to enter into warre,
And it may chance to breed his owne decay,
And so from vs thou maist vnto him say.
And for thy selfe it seemeth vnto me,
Thy Lord and Master Priam loues thee not,
That sent thee messenger to vs to be,
And thou thy selfe hast foolishly oreshot,
To take on thee so perillous a thing,
As to the Grecians tydings such to bring,
Whereby thy life thou hast indangered:
But be thou rul'd by me if thou be wise,
(Vnlesse thou art cleane voyd of feare and dread)
And get thou out my sight I thee aduise:
For if thou stayst, mine anger is so bent,
That thou mayst chance thy follie to repent.
Anthenor to auoid the Court was glad,
And presentlie with speed from thence did goe,
And entring ship such hast from thence he made,
That though the wind contrarie then did blow,
He put to sea, and failed prosperouslie
To Pilon, where Duke Nestor then did lie,
And there did hold a sumptuous Princelie Court:
Of whome he craued leaue submissiuelie,
To shew the cause that made him then resort
To him, and there withall to signifie
King Priams mind as he had gin him charge,
From point to point as fullie and as large,
As he had done to other men before,
And all to one effect, so that in vaine
It were for me to show it any more,
Or to recite it word for word againe:
For his conclusion ended still in one,
As you haue heard concerning Exion.
Whereat Duke Nestor did so fret and fume,
And in so great a choller then did grow,
That all the bloud did presentlie consume
Out of his face, and he as pale did show
As ashes, and so grieued was in heart,
And therewithall did feele such inwardsmart
Through wrath and ire, that so possest each vaine
And ioynt he had, that he did seeme to shake
Like Aspen leafe, and hardlie could refraine,
Vpon Anthenor straight reuenge to take,
Like Lyon fell that hunteth after pray,
Whose furious course no man as then can stay.
So much his mind from him was alienate,
That t'yeeld himselfe by no meanes then he might,
And at his heart he was so passionate,
Which boyled with such ranchor and dispight,
That all that him beheld would iudge him mad,
So strange a looke and gesture then he had.
At last, in midst of this perplexitie,
Into a sodaine choler out he brake,
And with a voice distraind from crueltie,
Vnto Anthenor furiously he spake:
With countenance so gastlie to behold,
That sure to make a man to feare it would.
Saying, thou friend that canst so smoothly glose,
I think thou knowst not well whom thou hast told
Thy needlesse tale, nor yet dost thou suppose
Who that I am, that darest be so bold
Thus to presume mine eares so to offend,
Pretending that King Priam did thee send
Vnto the Greekes, to aske them in his name,
Redresse for wrongs that nere by vs was done,
And turnst on vs the merit and the blame,
For iniuries wrought by Laomedon
To vs and ours, and in presumptuous wise
Accusest vs with most notorious lies.
Which thy abuse most odious in mine eare,
So much doth fret and anger me at heart,
That by no meanes I can endure't to heare,
And but I know a messenger thou art,
And that I do mine honour more respect
Then thee, I would in cruell wise correct
And chastise thy so great temerity,
For by the rigour of our ancient law,
I should put thee vnto th'extreamity
By horses wild throughout the streets to draw
Thy bodie vild, and it in pieces teare,
To teach thee and all others how to beare
Such friuolous tales to any Prince or Lord,
Vnlesse thou better knowst the man before.
So much by me thy message is abhord,
And Priamus thy King in heart much more:
In whose dispight this should to thee be done,
For iust reward of thy presumption,
If thou wert vs'd as well thou dost deserue.
And now be gone out of my sight with speed,
If thou thy life from danger wilt preserue,
For that the sight of thee to me doth breed
Both in mines eies and heart so great offence,
That I can take no rest till thou goest hence.
Anthenor hearing this thought it the best
For him not to reply, but to be gone.
And with all speed he went and did not rest
Till that he entred ship and left Pilon,
Directly sayling vnto Troye in hast,
But presently the clouds gan ouer-cast,
The Seas to roare and rage in furious wise,
The wind to blow, and waues most high to swell,
And fearefull lightning flasht out of the skies,
And thunder-claps vpon the ship downe fell
With so great force, that maine mast gan to cracke,
And both the yard and it in sunder bracke.
The ship with billowes tossing too and fro,
In fearefull wise now mounting vp most hie,
And then againe descending downe so low,
As if that vnder water it would lie:
So fearfully the heauens then did frowne,
That they expected still whē they should drown.
For euery man made full account to die,
And to their Gods gan vowes and prayers make,
And with deuotion great on them to crie
For aid and helpe, with promise t'vndertake
On pilgrimage to goe in Paynim wise,
If they escapt, to offer sacrifice.
At last the skies as then as darke as night
Began to cleare, and Seas did cease to rage,
And Phebus with his cleare and shining light,
Did sodainly the tempest great asswage,
And not one man within the ship did perish,
Wherwith their hearts began againe to cherish.
And presently the Gods sent them such grace,
That hauing well escapt their danger great,
They did arriue at Troye in little space,
And safely euery man on shore was set:
For which Anthenor straight without delay,
Vnto the Temple went therein to pray.
And thanke his Gods for his deliuerance,
The like did all the rest with humble heart,
Reioycing much for their so happy chance,
Which done, he did with speed from thence depart,
And to King Priam presently did goe,
Th'effect of his proceeding there to shoe.
Whom he as then found sitting in his throne,
Accompanied with his Nobilitie,
To whom he did at full and large make knowne,
What he had done, and what extreamitie
He had escapt amongst the Grecians fell.
And first vnto King Priamus did tell,
How Peleus vsd him most vncourteously,
And hardly could endure him in his sight,
And how with visage fell most cruelly,
King Telamon in rage and great despight
Disdained him, and his request denide,
And Priam with most threatning words defide.
And how the proud and hawty brethren twaine,
Castor, and Pollux, in most furious wise,
Commanded him to get him thence againe,
And not to slander them with false surmise,
Of wrongs by them supposed to be done
To Troye & Troyans, when the towne they woon.
And lastly how Duke Nestor cruelly,
Like to a man out of his wits distraught,
Did rage and raile at him despightfully,
And Priam and his message set at nought:
And in what perill of his life he was,
Before that he from euery place could passe.
When Priam heard Anthenor thus declare,
What ill successe amongst the Greekes he had,
His mind was so possessed with despaire,
That it him wholly out of comfort made:
Either by peace or warre then to obtaine,
The meanes to get his sister home againe.
For well he saith by proofe that t'was in vaine,
For him to deale with them by courtesie,
And that thereby he neuer should obtaine
The thing he sought, so great hostilitie
He found in them, that more he did intreat,
The lesse they it esteem'd, or by him set.
Which grieued him for that he saw no way,
But by constraint he must be forst to vse
Another course (which gladly he would stay,
If that he might) sith that they did refuse
His profered peace, and stubbornly denie
To grant the things, he sought so courteously.
And that nought else would please their appetite,
But bloudy warre engendred of discord
And ranchor old, their chiefe and sole delight.
For peace and friendship they so much abhord,
That to giue eare to equitie and right,
They would not grant throgh malice & despight.
Which did so much torment King Priams heart,
That fire of enuie kindling in his breast,
He vow'd from thence it neuer should depart,
Nor would he be content nor take no rest,
Till that he were reuenged on his foes,
Although that he thereby were sure to lose.
And in the warre most like a valiant Knight,
What ere befell aduentur'd life and lim,
For to maintaine his honour and his right,
While that one drop of blood remain'd in him:
Intending first a Nauie forth to send,
There with by sea the Grecians to offend.
And boldly to assaile them on the land
With fire and sword, their haughty pride t'abate.
And whosoeuer durst or would withstand,
To kill and to destroy. Such was the hate
Which he as then conceaued in his mind
Gainst Grecians, that to him were so vnkind.
But tell me Priam what hard desteny,
What trouble new, what hatefull influence,
What great despight, what infelicitie
Out of the skies by sodaine influence,
Descended is (thy sorrow to encrease)
That should be cause thou canst not liue in peace?
What sodaine chance, what fortune hard & sharpe,
What wilfull lust, what foolish hardinesse,
Hath made thee on the strings of war to harpe?
What carelesse thoughts, what vnaduisednesse,
Hath put thy mind out of tranquilitie,
To make thee wearie of prosperitie?
Dost thou in bitter gall more pleasure take,
Then hony sweet, that wilfull motions
Should canse thee peace and quietnesse forsake,
To yeeld vnto thy hatefull passions:
Cleane voyd of wit, of reason, and of sence,
And wholly without discreet prouidence?
What should thee carelesse make, not to foresee
The things that after might to thee befall,
And not to shun the great aduersity,
Which through thy follie brought thee into thrall?
Sure t'was the mists of error made thee stray,
The crooked paths of the ready way.
Where were thy guides, discretion, and aduise,
That should haue kept thee from sensualitie,
And counseld thee in time for to be wise?
But sure 'tis not in mans abilitie:
Nor can he from his wilfulnes refraine,
When sodaine wrath therto doth him constraine.
Thou first shouldst haue forecast thy destenie,
And by good counsell wisely haue been led,
And not haue wayed thy securitie
In ballance that doth hang but by a thred:
And rather haue dissembled all thy woe,
And cleane forgotten wrongs done long agoe.
And still haue borne it in thy memory,
That dailie by experience we doe see,
That while men seeke reuenge for iniury
Done long before, they oft deceaued be:
And with a double harme ere th'are aware,
Fall sodainly into another snare.
And wrongs that cleane forgotten were and dead,
Renewed are by trump of flying fame,
Through salse report & rumor that is spread,
And often hurt mans honor and good name:
Especially when he doth rashly run
Vpon reuenge, not carring how 'tis done.
And by his pride and ouer-hasty mood,
Doth worke his own destruction and decay.
Remembring not the prouerbe old and good,
(Which vnto men discreet and wise doth say)
Let him that's well be sure to keepe him so,
Least afterward he doth himselfe beshrow.
And he that walkes on plaine and euen ground,
Needs not to feare nor doubt a stumbling cast,
Vnlesse of carelesnes (as oft is found)
He ouerthrow himselfe by too much hast:
And wilfullie aduentures t'haue a fall,
As hauing of his state no care at all.
So must I vnto thee King Priam say,
That all too retchlesse thou hast euer been,
The care on fickle fortune so to lay
Of thy secured peace, for it is seen:
And knowne to be her custome commonly,
That when a man trusts most assuredly
In her that is so blind and so vnstable,
She will to him then most inconstant be,
And as she alwaies was deceaueable,
Bereaue him soone of regall dignitie:
And with a trice downe from her wheele him throw,
Her power and force vnto the world to show.
Against the which it nought availes to striue.
For when a man thinkes his estate most sure,
And that in peace and welfare he doth liue,
She can (when he thinks least) his fall procure:
Therefore let no man hope for happy chance
At fortunes hand, so full of variance.
Nor hazard his estate vpon her wheeles,
Vnlesse he cares not how the same doth goe,
Nor whether well or ill with him she deales,
For neuer man did her so constant know:
That he might say, he had continued
In one estate, and neuer varied.
Let Priam King of Troye vnfortunate,
Example hereof be, that wilfully
Without aduise orethrew his owne estate,
And brought himselfe into such misery:
That he, his wife, and all his Sons being [...]laine,
His noble Citie was destroyd againe.
And all his Country round about laid wast,
And whollie brought vnto confusion,
The memorie whereof while world doth last,
From age to age, and by succession
Shall both in bookes and songs recorded be,
That men thereby may learne, & plainly see
What comes of rash conceit and wilfulnesse,
When men will run vpon extreamitie,
And put their happy state in doubtfulnesse
By warre, wherein there's no securitie?
For he that therein seemes most fortunate,
Oft vnawares doth soon'st receaue the mate.
For harme once done, too late is to amend,
And sieldome doth a wrong of hatred done,
Procure to him that doth it happie end.
Let men therefore be wise, and seeke to shun
King Priams course, and so their steps direct,
That they in time their error may correct.
To shew how he into this error fell,
Which bred his vtter ruine and decay,
Then must you know that wrath and envie fell,
Burnt so within his breast both night and day:
(Vpon the answere that Anthenor brought)
That he could neuer rest till he had wrought
The meanes to be reuenged (if he might)
Vpon the Greekes, and so in hast he sent
For all his Lords, and many a noble Knight,
To summon them vnto a Parliament:
Commanding them therein to make no stay,
But with all present speed to come away.
Where being come, and all together met,
The King with words most graue & courage bold,
(When euerie man in his degree was set)
His will and his intent gan to vnfold:
What caus'd him that assembly there to make,
And in this sort vnto them then he spake,
And said: my Lords, I know your minds so well,
That long discourse at this time shall not need,
The cause of our assemblie for to tell,
And therefore to the point I will proceed:
And vnto you as brieflie as I may,
Declare th'effect of that I haue to say.
You know full well how that not long agoe,
By counsell of you all I sent to Greece,
Anthenor, on embassage for to shoe,
That my desire was with loue and peace
To haue my sister Exion home againe,
But all my suite and labour was in vaine.
For that the Grecians most vncourteously,
With threatning words and speeches full of dread,
Receau'd and vs'd him so despightfully,
That hardlie he escaped with his head:
Desying vs most proudlie for the same,
To our no small dishonour, and our shame.
Which dailie more and more will still encrease,
Vnlesse that we some remedie procure.
For whereas we do seeke for loue and peace,
And all our wrongs would patientlie endure:
They offer war and flatlie vs denie
A small request to grant or satisfie.
And for the harmes that they to vs haue done,
They say they will no other order take,
But for amends our Countrie t'ouer run,
And bloudie war on vs and ours to make:
Which their desire increaseth our despight,
But would to God their hearts were so contrite,
To cease all strife, and friendly to accord,
That all the mischiefe and the crueltie
That bloudie wars doth commonlie afford,
Might be converted into amitie:
But they (alas) are so possest with pride,
That they disdaine all peace, and vs deride.
Still threatning vs in most despightfull wise,
But God forbid that all on vs should light,
Which they suppose, and gainst vs do surmise:
But sith they seeme to shew so great despight,
And vnto vs pretend such crueltie,
We must be forced of necessitie,
By helpe of God their furiousnes to stay,
And in our owne defence most boldlie stand,
Sith that our cause is iust; Which that we may
The better do, let vs with heart and hand,
Ioyn'd all in one most firme and full decree,
On them with might and maine reueng'd to be:
Which if we do, we doubt not to preuaile.
For where mens minds agree not in consent
Of victorie, they shall be sure to faile:
But when vnto an vnitie th'are bent,
They cannot choose but nappilie proceed,
And helpe each other when they stand in need.
My counsell therefore is, that we agree
And ioyne in one consent for to withstand
The Grecians, and the more assur'd to bee,
(Before that we begin to take't in hand)
I dare affirme our strength and forces far
Exceeds the Grecians power, what ere they are.
Our skill in armes is great, as well you know,
Our Knights they are most valorous and stout,
Great store of horse and foot-men we can show
Well arm'd for war, and this we need not doubt,
But that our towne is most invincible,
And for our foes to win't impossible.
Therefore I do intend (by your consent)
With all the speed I can for to prepare
A Navie well appointed, to be sent
Into the Grecian Land, which shall not spare
(In our behalfe, and to defend our right)
T'invade the same, and with our force & might
To burne their townes, & lay their Country wast,
And vse them as they well deserued haue
At our hands, for iniuries forepast:
For by my will they shall not one man saue,
But cruelly put all vnto the sword,
For they the like vnto vs did afford.
And let not their forepassed victory,
Against vs woone, be cause to make vs doubt,
For they that oft in field are forst to flie,
Do many times with courage bold and stout,
Couragiously turne backe and fight againe,
And in the end the victory obtaine.
Such is the chance of warre, wherein there is
No certaintie, but oftent mes it's seen,
That he that this day victory doth misse,
The selfe same day the Conqueror hath been:
And he that held the field victoriously,
By him that fled before, been forst to flie.
For no man may in warre himselfe assure,
So fickle and vnconstant it is found;
For Mars this day will to a man procure
A conquest great, and cause his honor sound
By trumpe of Fame throughout the world so wide:
And when he list he can for him prouide
A sodaine fall, (and like the summer flower
That vadeth with a blast, and is consum'd,
And cleane distroyd) in minute of an hower
His honor stain'd, (which he at first presum'd
Could never faile) and cause it to decay,
And all within the space of one short day.
And where before his name was magnifide,
(Even as the ebbe doth follow floud apace,)
(As by experience oft it hath been try'd,)
Full sodainly he can't as much abase:
For though this day the Sun doth shine most clear,
Next day to vs perhaps t'will not appeare.
When thick & mistie clouds the Sun doth trouble,
And for a time obscure his radiant beames;
Even so of Mars the chances are most double,
And mixed with a number of extreames:
Now vp, now downe, now low, & then aloft,
As fortune will, whose mind doth change full oft.
For when she list she'll make a man ascend
Vpon her wheele, his honour to advance,
And sodainly she'll cause him to descend
And much againe, by some vnhappy chance:
This day she will exalt him to the skie,
And next abase in twinckling of an eye.
Turning her wheelevnstable like a ball,
She smiles on some, and others she doth flout,
And while one mounts another hath a fall:
For every man when it doth turne about,
Must take the chance that she on him will thrust.
(But he that knowes her frauds & wiles vniust,
Will soone perceiue sweet hony mixt with gall,
In all her actions what so ere they be,)
For honour and renowne, mischife and thrall,
Peace, bloudy warre, and every dignitie,
Are at her will and pleasure for to grant,
Let no man therefore in his fortune vaunt.
For though the Grecians gainst vs did preuaile,
When they my Father slue, it may so chance,
That now they shall of their good fortune faile.
Therefore let every man himselfe advance,
And as you are renown'd for hardinesse,
Valour and might, shew forth your worthines.
And vnto fortune do your selues commend,
And let no feare your manly hearts possesse,
But boldlie fight your Country to defend,
As I perswaded am you'le do no lesse:
Now let me heare your answeres herevnto,
And what for me and mine you meane to do.
This said, the Nobles all with one consent,
Made answere vnto him, and did reply,
That they with hearts and minds were fully bent,
In his and their iust quarrell for to die,
And venture goods and all that ere they haue,
The honour of their Country for to saue.
For which the King did thanke them heartily,
And gaue them leaue each one for to be gone,
And went into his chamber presently,
Where solitarilie and all alone,
He sat still musing how to bring to passe,
The thing that wholly his desire was.
For he thereon did onely set his thought,
So much his mind vpon revenge did run,
That though his own decay thereby were wrought,
Yet would he not the danger thereof shun:
And so resolu'd, made this conclusion,
With present speed and resolution,
To send for all his Sons legitimate,
And those likewise that basely borne were,
To take advise of them 'bout his estate,
And none but they alone, that he might heare
What counsell they to him as then would giue,
His troubled mind with comfort to relieue.
Concerning his pretence of warre to make
Vpon the Grecians for their cruelty,
Which he did mind in hast to vndertake.
Who being all assembled priuately,
And every one set downe as his degree
And age required, the flower of Chiualrie.
Prince Hector (who as then returned was
Out of the Prouince of Panomie)
Next to the King in order tooke his place,
Whome when he did behold with watrie eye
And sighes full sore and deepe from out his heart,
He did vnto them all his mind impart.
But ere that he as then a word would speake,
A floud of teares from out his eyes distild,
Fast trickling downe vpon his aged cheake,
So much his heart with griefe as then was fild:
At last as't were a man with sobs dismaid,
With heavy heart these words vnto him said,
My deare and louing sonnes, as I suppose,
You all record and freshly beare in thought,
How that the Greekes our old possessed foes,
In cruell wise their furies on vs wrought:
Slaying my Father King Laomedon,
Burnt euen with the ground his ancient towne,
Put all his subiects to the sword, not one
Escapt their rage, and in captiuitie
Led wiues and maids, and mongst them Exion
My sister deare, who in extreamity
Still there remaines, to our no small offence,
And your reproch that fetch her not fro thence:
The which to shun nature me thinks should moue,
And cause you in your hearts to feele much griefe,
That she whom you cannot all choose but loue,
Should there remaine so long without reliefe:
And with most great dishonour of her name,
Indure th'abuse she doth vnto your shame.
Alas my Sons, why seeke you not the way,
To be reueng'd for this great jniurie,
Vpon our foes, and that without delay,
And her relieue in her extreamitie:
In truth me thinks (sith that you are so strong)
You are to blame to driue it off so long,
And thus from day to day the time deferre,
By Knightly force and valor great t'assay,
With might and maine vpon them to make warre,
It grieueth me you seeme so long to stay,
To grant to my request, whose whole desire
And heart gainst the doth burne like flaming fire.
With hatred, (as you plainely may behold)
Till that I be reueng'd with present speed,
The which if you regarded as you should,
And resolutely in your hearts decreed,
While you haue strength and valor so to do,
You would not be so hardlie drawne thereto.
Remember how t'was I did you beget,
And fostred you with care as tenderly
As I could do, and now you are thus great,
And held to be the flower of Chiualrie:
You should of nature for my sorrowes grieue,
And with all speedy meanes for to relieue
My troubled mind and great aduersitie,
Sith that you see it doth torment me so,
And that the cause concernes both you and me,
Whom nature bind, to feele one selfe same woe:
And as he spake, and thus to them did mourne,
His face vnto Prince Hector he did turne,
And said, Hector my Son, my chiefe and only ioy,
My trust, my sole delight, my eldest child,
And here sucessiuelie to raigne in Troy,
(Of whom my hopes as yet were nere beguild)
Thou that art nam'd the root, the spring, the well
Of Chivalrie, and dost therein excell
Thy Brethren all, whereby thou dost obtaine,
The soveraigntie of high renowne and fame,
Esteeme not I thee pray my words in vaine,
But yeeld and giue consent vnto the same:
And do the thing for which I long so sore,
For in thee is my trust, and in no more,
This thing t'effect and wholly bring about.
And for that cause I make thee Generall
Of all my force, and herein make no doubt,
But that thou wilt go forward therewithall:
And yeeld t'accept of this my iust request,
For in thy valor onely do I rest.
And vnto thee it chieflie doth belong,
As being wise, and full of gouerment
Flowring in youth, actiue, and passing strong,
And hast thy mind to honour onelie bent:
Though yong in yeares yet of discretion,
Belou'd of all, and of most high renowne.
And all thy younger Brethren shall obay
To thee, and at thy will be alwaies pres [...],
With thee to liue and dye, and therefore say
If that thou wilt consent to my request:
And let me heare thine answere herevnto,
That with all speed we may prepare thereto.
When Priam thus had shewed them his pretence,
Hector (the patterne of Nobilitie)
Bowing his knee with humble reuerence
Vnto the King, (as full of curtesie)
His answere gaue with sober countenance,
Th'effect whereof was this in full substance.
My most renowned Lord and Father deare,
Sith that it is your pleasure and your will
That I should speake, and you are pleas'd to heare
Attentiuely, I shall your mind fulfill:
And such good counsell as my wit affords,
Ile giue to you in few and pithy words.
True'tis my Lord, that natures lawes doe bind,
And still prouoke mans heart for to aspire,
(And all Gods creatures else of seuerall kind)
With earnest and most resolute desire
To seeke reuenge, for wrongs by them sustaind,
And specially such men as haue attaind
Vnto the honour of Nobility,
For vnto them t'were great reproach and shame,
And wholly gainst their state and dignity,
To suffer wrongs done to their name and fame:
For euery trespasse must considered be,
And wayd according to the qualitie
Of him gainst whome the jniurie is wrought,
(What way or meanes soeuer that it be)
As also of the person that it sought,
For tis more griefe to men of high degree
To suffer hurt or harme by aduenture,
Or any wrong vniustly to endure:
Then vnto men of meaner quality.
And jniury maliciously contriu'd,
Is more offence to Princelie Majesty,
And men from high Nobility deriu'd:
Then vnto such as by their wealth aspire
To worship, though the world doth thē admire.
This well considered of, much bound are we,
To seeke by force our honour to increase,
Sith we descend of Royall pedigree,
And let vs not from iust reuenge surcease:
For beasts that are by nature voyd of sence,
Desire the same, and seeke their owne defence.
And for my part I know assuredly,
That none of all your Sons was ere more prest,
Vpon the Greekes to be reueng'd then I,
And herevpon my faith I doe protest:
That with despight gainst them I burne like fire,
And thirst their bloud with all my whole desire.
For as I am your eldest by degree,
So am I mooued most with angry mood,
And long by valour and by chiualry,
With sword in hand to shed the Grecians bloud:
Which they perchāce shall feele ere that they ween,
When time doth serue, as shortly shall be seene.
But first I must aduise you t'haue a care,
(Ere you begin t'effect this your intent)
And thinke and way how great the dangers are,
Which vnto bloudy war are jncident:
And long not the beginning for to see,
But studie on the end what it may bee.
Which if you do you can by no meanes faile,
For counsell giuen in my opinion
Is little worth, and nothing may availe,
Nor yet deserueth commendation:
Which doth not tend t'advise men seriously
To thinke vpon future adversity.
For though that men at pleasure bring about,
The first beginning of their tragedies,
Yet oftentimes it commonly fals out,
That they doe end with great extreamities:
And what availes beginning fortunate,
That after causeth strife and great debate.
I say therefore great wisedome tis to doubt,
At th'entring into any enterprise;
What issue may thereof in th'end fall out,
Which who so doth I hold him to be wise:
For that beginning is most fortunate,
Where midst and end continue in like estate.
But when they do not happilie proceed,
T'were better wholly from it to abstaine,
Then t'hazard mans estate when there's no need,
For who so doth, assured is to gaine
Nought else but mischiefe and adversity,
And end his daies in great extreamity.
Let not your Majesty I yow beseech,
In any wise with me displeased be,
Nor yet to take exception at my speech,
For there's no sparke of any thought in me,
To giue a cause vnto you of offence:
For that I speake is onely with pretence,
To counsell you to see that wilfully
You enterprise not that which in the end,
By misadvice may chance vnhappily,
And be the cause in fine your selfe t'offend:
Nor of your foes too small account to make,
For so men oftentimes themselues mistake.
But thinke how they hold in subiection
All Affrica, and Europe, wide and long,
With many another warlike Nation,
And that they are most valiant Knights and strong:
Esteem'd of all the world for worthinesse,
Abounding in great wealth and happinesse.
So that with your support I dare bebold,
T'a [...]irme that danger tis them to displease;
And if our quiet state disturbe we should,
It's to be feard we must our selues disease:
And say that Asia should vs aid to fight,
It is not like vnto the Grecians might.
And though our Aunt the Princesse Exion,
Against all right be held by Telamon;
It is not fit for her redemption,
To bring vs all vnto destruction:
My counsel's not to buy her halfe so deare,
For that perhaps all we that now sit here,
And many more might also for her right,
In doubtfull warres loose both their lire & lim,
And after long and many a bloudy [...]ight,
Perehance shall nere get her away from him:
Which were no wisedome as it seemes to me.
And it may hap ere long time passe, that she
Her fatall course and daies on earth will end,
And then what shall we reap for her to striue,
And with our Grecian enemies contend?
But onely euer after while we liue,
Be sure of mortall warre and enmity,
Sorrow and griefe, and all extreamity.
My counsell therefore is, that we endure
Our wrongs forepast without contention,
And not vnto ourselues more hurt procure,
For tis a point of great discretion:
Think not my Lord I speake thus much for feare
Or cowardise, but yet I say that t'were
Great folly to commit our happinesse
(Sith that we now [...]iue in security)
To fortunes hands, so full of doublenes,
And barre our selues of all felicity:
This is (said he) all that I did pretend
To say to you, and so his speech did end.
When Hector thus his mind declared had,
And with most graue conclusion so did close,
The wise discourse which be to them had made:
His second brother Paris therewith rose,
And to the King along discourse did make,
Which in these words with courage bold he spake.
And said, my Lord, if't like your Grace to heare,
And giue me leaue to speake, then must I say
And will it proue, you haue no cause to feare,
(Nor would I wish you long the time delay)
With braue and valiant heart to vndertake,
Vpon the Greekes asodaine warre to make:
Therewith their pride and malice to confound,
Sith that you know yourselfe to be so strong
Of valiant Knights, and that we do abound
With plenty of each thing that doth belong
Vnto the warres, and how our towne most wide,
Is able all their proud assaults t'abide.
And which is more, invincible to win.
Besides all this, great Princes many aone
(Our friends, so were this warre with them begun)
Will vs assist to their destruction:
Let them therefore be nere so bold and stout,
I see no cause at all, why we should doubt:
Nor reason why we should our selues dismay.
Therefore if you my counsell now will take,
I thinke it best you should no time delay
Your Nauie to prepare, and if you'le make
Me Generall thereof, I you assure,
That I will such a speedy meanes procure,
That Exion shall recouered be full soone,
And in such sort it shall by me be wrought,
(That I esteeme it easie to be done.)
For I deuised haue within my thought,
By Knightly force with strong and mighty hand,
To rauish some faire Lady in that Land
Of high estate, and without tarrying,
(Despight of them when as I haue her wonne)
With all the speed I can, to Troy her bring,
That so you may haue restitution,
By change of her whom you long so to see,
And this shall soone by me dispatched be.
All were the Grecians nere so strong & bold.
And that hereof you may be out of doubt,
I will in briefe to you the meanes vnfold,
How I with ease will bring the same about:
And hope thereby your mind so to content,
That you'le reioyce that I was thither sent.
For that the Gods of their benignitie,
Haue shewed to me by reuelation,
Which way the same may well effected be:
And to that end I had a vision
Not long agoe, as in a sleepe I fell,
Which if you marke, and it consider well,
You need not feare to faile nor yet to care,
To get her home, whome you so much desire.
The manner of my dreame I will declare,
And in most humble wise your Grace require,
With patience to abide till I haue done,
And I will it in briefe soone over-run.
Your Grace remembreth well to what intent,
By your command and with commission large,
Into the Indian land of late I went,
For things that are committed to my charge:
And I as then tooke on me to effect,
Which that I might the time no whit neglect.
When Titan with his beames most faire and cleare
From Gemeny his furious steeds did chace,
And in the signe of Cancer gan apeare,
(Which called is Lucinaes mancion place)
When as the Sun was in the highest degree,
Which in the midst of Iuno we find to bee.
At that same time as soone as day I saw,
When Phoebus gan to shew his radiant light,
Commanding Pirrous vp his wane to draw,
And Dame Aurora beautifull and bright,
Began her face out of the East to shew,
And cast on hearbs and flowers her siluer dew,
I rose out of my bed with present speed,
And full intent on hunting forth to goe,
For that within my heart I had decreed,
Some honour vnto Cupid then to show:
And Ladie Venus that day magnifie,
Which called is the Queene of Venerie.
And reverently the ancient rights obserue,
Of Cinthia nam'd the faire bright shining Moone,
And her in all submissiue wise to serue,
The which by vs the better to be done,
My mates and I for pleasure and delight,
Determined to rest and stay till night
Within a wood, to play and make some sport,
(As best beseemeth men of youthfull mind)
And pleasantly our selues to recomfort,
For that day vnto Venus was assign'd,
And hallowed to her sacred deity,
With honour and with soueraigne Maiesty.
Which euery one obseru'd both small and great.
For on a Friday t'was when forth we went,
And when within the pleasant woods we met,
To hunt for game (as t'was our sole intent)
With labour great we rode both too and froe,
So long till many a fearefull Bucke and Doe
By strength were kil [...], as we them chanst to find,
And mongst the dales and vallies steepe and low,
With hounds did chase the Hart & tripping Hind,
Till Phoebus glistring in his chaire did show:
Iust in the midst or the Merid [...]en,
When as the beames most burning hot did shine,
And we vpon our chase most busied were.
As I by chance strayd from my companie,
Who in the woods were scattered here and there,
A mightie Hart did start forth sodenlie,
From out the thickets hasting to the greene
With most swift pace, which when that I had seen,
I spyed my horse, and after gallopt fast,
Vp hils, downe dales, through bushes thick & thin,
And yet for all I made as then such hast,
I could by no meanes ground vpon him win:
But maugre all I did to my despight,
In little space t'was gone out of my sight.
Into a wood that Ida had to name,
Wherewith I waxt so faint that I did stay
To rest my selfe, and so left off the game,
And for because that I had lost my way:
(And that my horse whereon I then did ride,
Foam'd at the mouth, and swet on euery side.
And all his flankes in every place were staind
With bloud, that with my spurs from him I drew,
So hotly in the chase I him constraind,
The Hart that ran so swiftly to pursue:
With hope in th'end he should by me be caught,
But all that I could do availd me nought.)
When a mongst the thick & lofty trees so greene,
I found by chance a sweet and pleasant shade,
As smooth and plaine as ever man had seene,
I lighted off my horse and fast him made
Vnto a tree, and wearie as I was,
I [...]ayd me downe vpon a tuft of grasse
Hard by a riuer side, whose streames most cleare,
Like cristall fine did cast a radiant light,
And all the stones and sand that therein were,
Appear'd and shone like gold most pure & bright:
Where presently with my great wearinesse,
A heauie sleepe did me so sore oppresse.
That since I first was clad with earthly mold,
I neuer slept so fast. And sodainly
As I lay still, me thought I did behold
God Mercurie descend downe from the skie,
And stood by me, which put me in a feare,
For he as then his crooked sword did weare
Gi [...]t to his side, and held within his hand
His charming rod, about the which did wind,
Two vgly Snakes, (with which his pliant wand,
He vs'd to worke all things vnto his mind:)
And at his feet me thought there stood a cocke,
That crowed each hower as true as any clocke.
And in his mouth were pipes that plaid so shrill,
And with so sweet and pleasant harmony,
That both mine eares and sences they did fill,
With many severall kinds of melody:
So that I did assuredly surmise,
That I had beene in earthly Paradise.
(In this strange sort appeared Mercury,
And much more strangethen I can well declare,
Like as Fulgence in his methologie
Of him d [...]th write, wherein he doth not spare,
In pleasant verse full of varietie,
His shape to show as you therein may see.
To moralise his shape, you must surmise
His rod so straight which neuer standeth bent,
Doth signifie men politicke and wise,
Who by their good and carefull gouernment
All dangers do prevent before they fall,
And by that meanes preserue themselues from thrall.
His pipes so sweet and pleasant to the eare,
Significantly vnto vs do show,
The eloquence which dailie we doe heare,
And Rethoritian phrases that doe flow
Out of mens mouths of great discretion,
Whereof that God is th'only pateron.
The Cocke that doth so louely chant and crow,
And iustly keepes each hower of the night,
Doth signifie and rightly to vs show,
The watch fulnesse and the interiour sight
Of men, that by their care and diligence,
Driue from their minds all sloth & negligence.
His sword that crookes like to a Fawchion,
Which neither forged was nor made in vaine,
Doth serue to force such as haue straid and gone,
Out of the way of truth to turne againe:
The serpents which about his rod do wind,
Are like to diuers crosses which we find,
And daily see do lie in wait to stop
The way of truth, by hatred and disdaine,
And of the same the branches so to lop,
That by their will it nere should grow againe:
And so poore truth constrained is to flie,
And in a hole lie hidden secretly.)
And with this winged God there did appeare
As then to me, three Goddesses most bright,
The which so faire and passing comely were,
That I in them did take no small delight:
To see and to behold their beauties rare,
The names whereof to you I will declare.
The first whereon my gasing eyes I cast,
Was Venus faire the Goddesse of delight;
Next vnto her Dame Iuno fore me past,
A Goddesse of no little power and might:
The third and last that showd her selfe in place,
The wise and valiant Goddesse Pallas was.
Faire Venus to procure the more delight,
To those that vnto her obedience shew,
Aboue her head had Pigeons faire and white,
Who flickering with their wings about her flew.
To shew to vs that by the same is meant,
That as those birds are meeke and innocent.
So louers that are faithfull and do meane
T'obserue God Cupids lawes, and truely giue
To loue her due, should be so pure and clane
In deed and thought, that while that they do liue,
No manner of disliking, nor of blame
Should be in them, their credits to defame.
The freshnes of the Roses faire and red,
Which in the Summer shew most pleasantly,
And in the Winter are so pale and dead.
The thoughts of louers yong do signifie,
And such as in hot loue do burne like fire,
With fervent hope t'attaine to their desire.
When loue at first within their hearts beares sway,
Vntill the time of old vnweldy age,
When lust is past and seemeth to decay,
And doth begin no more in them to rage
Through feeblenes, when spring of youth is gone,
Which by good proofe to many men is known.
Venus therefore we oft distiled see,
To sit within a floud of water deepe,
To show what trouble and adversity
Is found in loue, and how that it doth keepe
Men in despaire, with fancy them to feed,
Till hopelesse they remaine in doubt to speed.
Pallas me thought in th'one hand then did beare
A shield, the which of mettall pure was made.
In th'other hand a sharpe and warlike speare,
And round about his head a Rainebow had
O [...] colours three, red, greene, and perfect blew,
And as it seem'd to me before her grew
An Oliue tree, which shewd most fresh and greene,
And in the verdant branches thereof sat,
The vgliest Owle that ever eye had seene,
With staring eies, and face most brawd and flat,
Whereof the morrall with the restile show
As they in order stand. Then must you know
The [...]eld which Pallas beares within her hand,
D [...]th signifie the power and passing might
That [...] hath by wisedome to withstand
All [...] and manly gainst the same to fight.
A [...] that [...]er speares [...] smoth & sharply ground,
Was forg'd by iust reuenge, for to confound
And overthrow vniust and wicked men;
And for that mercie should with rigor goe,
The sta [...]e thereof is shau'd and smothed cleane,
Least merciles right should iust rigor shoe.
The Oliue tree [...]tokens signe of peace,
Which doth ensue, whē bloody warre doth cease.
The broad fac't staring eyed vgly Owle,
The which gainst death and bankets funerall
Of custome hath by kind to s [...]ritch and howle,
Doth show that death is th'onely end of all.
The glory of the world, and happie's he
That dayly beareth it in memory.
The Rainebow where such severall colours were
Of divers kinds to beautifi't withall,
Doth show what sundry chaunces are in warre,
Wherein some win, some loose, some fall.
Like constant, and light wavering greene,
Varietie so great therein is seene.
Iun [...] as learn'd Fulgentius to vs tells,
A [...] with barren wombe and dead,
And alwa [...] [...] in Rivers, and in Wells,
To whom the Peacocke proud is sacared,
With Argus eyes imprinted in her tayle,
The which she spreads abroad like to a sayle.
The waters sayd to be in wells and flouds,
Doe represent the cares and troubles great
That men indure, to scrape and gather goods,
Not sparing paine nor toile the same to get.
But whosoere within those floods doth row,
Let him beware, for after they doe flow,
By course of time, as it is most true
(Directed by the Moone their governesse,)
There will an ebbe with present speed ensue.
The feare is most, when Cinthia doth increase,
And orderly attaine vnto the the full,
Least Fortune chance the feathers way to pull
Of men that doe abound in riches great,
(For she is Queene of mutabilitie.)
And Argus eyes that in the tayle are set
Of Peacocks proud, are sayd to signifie
Such niggards hearts as commonly are blind,
And onely on their riches set their mind.
Remembring not, that it with them doth fare
As with the ebbe, which soone doth passe away.
(Whereof they seeme to haue but litte care.)
For as the Peacocks feathers fresh and gay
Doe often shed, and from her tayle doe fall:
So riches when men thinke them sur'st of all,
Will sodainely consume and wast away,
And vnawares their maister cleane desie,
For that in them there is no certaine stay.
And as the Goddesse Iuno's wombe is drie:
So are the greedy covetous hearts of such,
As on their riches set their minds so much.
That nothing whatsoere will satisfie
Their greedy thoughts, possest with feare and woe,
Least they should fall in want before they die,
And yet at last they must it all forgoe.
Thus riches breeds to thē continuall care, (spare▪
That while they liue, doe nought but pinch and
But he that hath a free and liberall heart,
Doth scorne to pinch and liue so niggardly:
But kindly vnto others will impart
Such as he hath, when opportunitie
And time doth serue, and doth in heart detest,
(Like greedy gut to hide his gold in chest.)
And thus these stately Goddesses all three,
Did show themselues in shape as I haue told,
And for their guide had winged Mercurie,
Who standing still a while did me behold.
At last his rod vpon my lips he laid,
And in these words did speake to me, and sayd;
Sir Paris, lift thine eyes vp now, and see
These goodly Dames that downe frō skies descend,
And in their severall shapes appeare to thee,
Are come a certaine strife; twixt them to end.
And thus it is as they with all the rest
Of great celestiall Gods, weare at a feast
With Iupiter, in his most heauenly bowre,
And not one fail'd but all as then were there,
Except the Goddesse Discord, who did lowre
And fret therefore, and such despight did beare
Against those Dames, that for revenge the sought
And at the last in this wise she it wrought.
She did by Art and skill an Apple frame
Of massie gold, and round as any ball,
With Grecian letters grauen vpon the same,
Which sayd let her that is the fair'st of all,
Take this for her reward, and bear't away,
And let the rest not once thereto say nay.
This Apple she vnto the feast did bring,
And when they were set downe about the board,
With countenance sterne she did it thereon fling,
And without more delay or speaking word,
Went out the hall as fast as ere she might,
And sodainely there rose so great despight
And envie for the same betweene these three,
To know which of them all hath greatest right,
(For every one of them doth thinke it's shee
That best deseru'd that golden Apple bright.)
And mongst them yet there is so great disdaine,
Which of them is in beautie Soveraigne,
And best desires to beare away the game?
That night and day they never cease to striue;
And wrangle, chide, and brawl about the same,
And all their hearts in manner seeme to riue
And burst for spight, vntill that they do see
Which of them shall obtaine the victorie.
Such enuy raignes in hearts of women kind,
That every one is jealous of the other,
And none of them but thinks within her mind,
That she deserues the praise before another.
And all of them in their opinions,
Doe thinke their beautie passeth every ones.
For not the fowlst amongst them all that are,
If that their face within a glasse they see,
But doth suppose their beauties to be rare.
But I thinke him a very foole to bee.
And one that hath in colours small insight,
That chuseth sallo, wyellow, for a white.
And that mans eye deceiued is full soone,
That vsually doth stay till it be night,
And then doth chuse his colours by the moone,
For colours are refined by fier-light:
And some encreast by wine and costly cheare,
And some with oyntmēts sweet their faces cleare.
And many times by false jllusion,
By night some doe show beautifull and faire,
But such as haue tried that conclusion,
Oft find them fowle by day-light in the aire:
It's good therefore to chuse (by my aduise)
In morning when a woman first doth rise.
For then her beautie best is to be tride,
And follow Ouids counsell in that case,
Who saith, when drugs and pots are set aside
Then chuse, and thou shalt truely see her face:
Least (as he saith) thou mayst deceiued bee,
And think thou seest, the thing thou dost not see
For at this day such practises are rife,
(And knowne and vsd too much in euery place.)
And thus began the malice and the strife,
Betweene these Ladies three, who for that case
By one consent descended from the skie,
The quarrell of their beautie there to trie.
The doome whereof committed is to thee
Sir Paris, that so wise and prudent art,
See that therein thou well advised bee,
For from it by no meanes they may not start:
But must abide all three by one consent,
Without delay or strife to thy iudgement.
But first before thou tak'st this thing in hand,
Or any word out of thy mouth be heard,
Thou shalt doe well from me to vnderstand,
What each of them will giue thee for reward,
If thou dost Iudge her beautie to excell
The other two, now harke and I will tell.
If thou vnto Queene Iune dost it giue,
She will reward thee highly for the same,
With riches store, and while thou heere dost liue,
Will thee advance to honour great and fame,
And in all these will prosper thee so well,
That thou in them all others shalt excell.
If vnto Goddesse Pallas it befall,
To haue his golden Apple for her fee,
And that thou judgest her the fair'st of all,
For thy reward she will assure to thee,
That thou in wisedome, wit, and government,
Shalt be so perfect and so excellent,
That euen as farre [...] Phebus giueth light,
And in the world since that it first began,
There never was a more couragious Knight
Then thou, nor nere was knowne a wiser man.
Thus riches, honour, wisedome, fortitude,
May be at thy command, if thou conclude
Thy iudgements on their sides; therefore beware,
And herein take aduise, and do not loose
These gifts that are so noble and so rare,
While thou to leaue or take hast time to choose,
I speake not this to moue thee therewithall,
To iudge amisse, or to be partiall.
And if to Venus thou this Apple giue,
Thou shalt for thy reward haue to thy wife
The fairest Dame that now on earth doth liue,
Or ever man did see in all his life,
Which thou by valour great in Greece shalt win.
Now be aduis'd, before thou dost begin
To iudge aright, and see for nought thou spare,
Least after thou repent for doing so.
Wherewith amaz'd I gan about me stare,
In doubt to thinke what I therein should doe,
At last I spake and said to Mercurie,
That I by no meanes would their beauties trie,
Nor iudge thereof, vnlesse they naked there
Before me stood, that at my libertie,
I might behold, if everie member were,
As faire in all respect and each degree,
As outwardlie their faces faire did show,
And then my doome they presentlie should know.
When they had heard me speak they gaue consent,
And did agree my mind therein t'obay,
(And straight to strip themselues were all content,
The which to do they made no long delay)
For they had all decreed before they came,
That in no point they would denie the same.)
When naked all before me there they stood,
And that I did behold them at the full,
And vewed everie part, it did me good
To see their bodies faire and beautifull:
But when mine eies on Venus bright I cast,
For her without delay my iudgement past.
And vnto her the Apple gaue with speed,
As fairest of them all (excepting none)
And as at first it was by them decreed,
I should not partiall be to any one,
So did I iudge her beautie great to be,
Much more then th'others two in each degree.
For as me thought her eies most faire and bright,
That cast forth streames so cleare and delectable,
Were like the starre that shines to vs by night,
Cald Hesperus, and so most amiable
Faire Venus shewd her selfe, ye t'was true,
I could not choose but giue to her her due.
Whereat this Goddesse faire did much reioyce,
And in her heart therewith did seeme to glorie,
That of her beautie rare I made the choice
T'excell the rest, and that the victorie
By iudgement, vnto her as then did fall,
To be the fair'st and beautiful'st of all.
And as the winged God to me did say,
What should be my reward of Venus part,
She said she would performe without delay,
And from his vowe and promise neuer start:
And saying so the Goddesses all three,
Did vanish and depart away from me.
And Mercurie with wings began to flie,
And soaring vp with speed his waie did take,
Directlie to the cleare and cristall skie,
And sodainlie therewith I did awake
Out of my deadlie sleepe, and vp I start,
And mounting horse from thence did straight depart.
Now my good Lord, whom I both loue & dread,
Ift please your Grace your selfe herein t'advise,
And vnto that which I haue said take heed,
You will it not esteeme, nor yet surmise
To be in vaine, by Venus to me said.
And therefore I wish you not to be afraid,
But boldlie let me goe to Greece in hast,
With some great power of men about the thing
Which I haue said, and ere long time be past,
I doubt not but the same to passe to bring:
And as by Venus I am promised,
Of some faire Ladie certainlie to speed.
That by exchange of her you may obtaine
An easie and a most assured way,
To get your Sister Exion home againe,
This is (said he) all that I haue to say,
For my advise and counsell to your Grace,
And so sate downe againe into his place.
But Priam what should cause thee to forget
Thy selfe so much, that thou shouldst be so vaine,
Thy hope and trust vpon a dreame to set?
I cannot choose but needs must tell thee plaine,
That shallow was thy wit and thy discretion,
To trust vnto a false illusion.
As that thou all care hadst set aside,
To follow after dreaming fantasie,
T'is sure that reason then was not thy guide,
That thou vpon meere follies wouldst relie
As Paris did, that Pallas did neglect,
And sacred wisedome wilfullie reiect.
And some also carelesly re [...]us'd
With riches and with all her offers great,
And she that hath all men so much abus'd,
(And at whose hands their's nothing els to get
But pleasure, and the fond delights of loue,
Which onely doe a man to folly moue)
Faire J'enus cal'd the blacksmith Vulcans wife,
(Whose seruice though it doth nought els procure
Vnto a man, but bloody warre and strife,)
By him preferred was, but tis most sure
That Paris in his judgement was vniust,
And that his mind was wholy set on lust.
Whereby the great and famous Troian Towne,
When it had long been vext with bloudy warre,
Was in the end brought to confusion
By Paris meanes, that had so little care,
When it was offred him, his choise to make
Of wisedome, gold, and valor; and to take
A Woman that was cause of all the woe
Which vnto Priam afterward befell.
A [...] in this Booke hereafter I will shoe,
And now on dreames I will no longer dwell,
But to my matter seriously proceed,
And shew you what by Priam was decreed.
Vpon the dreame by Paris then declard,
But first of all in briefe i'le let you know
What Diophebus sayd, who having heard
His brothers speech, stood vp his mind to show:
And grauely with a countenance benign,
Obedience made, and spake vnto the King,
And sayd, my Lord, if every man should doubt,
And in his mind forecast and deepely way,
Concerning future things what might fall out:
It would be cause to make men often stay
All actions whatsoere, and neuer bend
Their wits nor wils to bring them to an end.
Nor would they seeke their valours forth to show,
For he that doubts, dares nothing vndertake:
For if a man before that he doth throw
His Corne into the groūd, should recknoning make
How many grains thereof consum'd would be
By Birds, or by some other Casualtie:
I'would make him feare his ground to sow againe.
Let vs lay all such foolish doubts aside,
For I esteeme and hold them meerely vaine,
And counseil now no longer to abide,
Nor slacke the time, but with a Navy strong
Send Paris into Greece for to revenge our wrong:
This I dare affirme and boldly say,
That he hath counselled you and vs full well,
Which no man to speake truth can well denay.
So that I thinke and must you plainely tell,
Great error t'were his purpose to contrary,
And therefore let him now no longertarry.
But thither with a warlike Navy goe,
That we may quit them for the villany
Which they vnto vs and ours did show,
In former times with extreame cruelty.
And for the better execution,
And getting of our Aunt, faire Exion,
Whom they doe hold from vs by force and might,
And long haue done to our no little shame,
And that against all equitie and right,
Which wounds my heart to thinke vpon the same:
For remedy whereof I must needs say,
There is no better meanes, nor readier way
Then to send forth a strong and warlike band,
With him to Greece, that forcibly he may
Some Lady take, within the Grecians land,
And mauger all their might, her thence conuay,
And bring her vnto Troy, with present speed,
By which so braue exploit, and warlike deed,
You may haue meanes to satisfie your mind,
By changing her for Princes Exion.
This is the readiest way that I can find
For to procure her restitution.
Which my good Lord I hope you do intend,
(Quoth he) my counsell I will end.
Which sayd, his brother Helenus did rise
Out of his seate, and with due reverence
Vnto the King, as beeing learnd and wise,
Desired him he might haue audience
To speake, and to declare vnto them all,
What future danger might on them befall.
And so with sober countenance and sad,
He spake and sayd, my Lord may't please your grace
To giue command, that silence now be made,
And that I may haue licence for a space,
Without deceit or guile to shew my mind,
What I by secret Art and science find.
Hereafter will fall out, wherein as yet
I never fail'd as well your grace doth know,
And sure I am you doe it not forget,
For whatsoere I tooke on me to show,
Did come to passe as I did tell it you,
And you likewise did find it to be true.
And by Gods leaue I will not spare as now
To tell the truth without all flattery,
For I haue tane an oath, and made a vow
That from my mouth there shall proceed no lye,
I say therefore with true intention,
And as t'will follow in conclusion.
If you to Greece my brother Paris send,
I know it well by Revelation,
(Though he effect the thing you doe pretend.)
In fine twill be our owne confusion.
For so I find by true Astronomy.
And never yet in any Prophesie
Was I deceau,d in future accident,
Nor any that did put his trust in me.
Then sith all things must haue their true event,
I counsell you by me forewarn'd to be:
And by no meanes for malice, nor for pride,
Seeke not reuenge what ever may betide,
Against the Greeks: for if that you proceed
T'effect the thing which you as now intend,
And as within your mind you haue decreed,
Which is that you to Greece will Paris send:
Know for a truth and full conclusion,
Twill be the cause of our destruction.
For by that meanes will certainely befall
The ouerthrow of our most ancient Towne:
Wherefore the howses, Pallaces, and wall,
Shall be destroyd and cruelly throwne downe.
Few words me thinks heerein should now suffice
To men that are esteemd to be so wise.
Wherefore if you respect your owne estate,
Or doe regard my words, I doe not doubt
But that you will before it be too late,
Bethinke your selfe ere worse to vs fall out.
For better tis for to refraine in time
From your pretence, which yet is in the prime.
They hastily t'agree and giue consent
Vnto a thing that can vs nought availe,
And in the end will make vs all repent.
For this is true, and by no meanes can faile,
Twill be the death without exception,
Of all of vs that are within this Towne.
First, you my Lord, th'effect thereof shall trie,
And by the Grecians fury end your life.
Your noble Queene that by your side doth lie,
And long hath been your true and faithfull wife,
Shall end her daies by extreame cruelty,
In sorrow, woe, and great extreamity.
Your subiects all most woefully shall passe
By dint of sword, and none from it be freed,
For silly Infants then shall find no grace,
If that in your intent you doe proceed,
And willfully a warre begin to make
Against the Greeks, and fondly vndertake
To trouble your most peaceable estate,
And so procure the ruine of vs all.
I say no more, but ere it be to late,
And fore this mischiefe doth on vs befall,
My counsell is, against it to prouide,
And set all foolish willfulnesse aside:
Especially when death as I Iaue told
Will be the end, and finall destenie,
(If that this dangerous purpose you do hold,)
Which all too soone both you and we shall trie.
Whereof be sure, for it will fall out so,
If Paris in this Greecian voyage go.
And therewith hauing giuen his aduise,
With heauy cheare and pale and deadly face,
(As by his countenance sad they might surmise.)
He sate him downe againe within his place.
At which his words astonied they were,
And all their hearts were stricken into a feare.
So that to speake not any one was bold,
But every man as mute, his lips held close,
Till Troylus did them so sad behold,
With courage stout, out of his place arose:
(Who like a valiant and couragious Knight,
Desiring nought but gainst his foes to fight,
And manfully with them his force to trie,)
Then with a mind exceeding light and glad,
He did behold his Fathers heart to die
With feare, and all his brethren there so sad,
And all the rest to looke with heauie cheare:
T'incourage them, he spake as you shall heare;
And sayd, My Lords most valorous and strong,
Whose wisedomes and discretions well I know,
Why should you offer to your selues this wrong
That sodainely such signes of feare you show?
Are you perplext within your valiant breasts,
And feared at the words of coward Priests?
For all of them as you full well shall find,
By nature are addicted vnto rest,
Desirous from their hearts (by very kind)
To liue at ease, and travell doe detest.
Abhorring warre, and onely doe apply
Their minds to lust, and filthy gluttony.
And care for nought, but how they may devise
To fill their guts, and please their appetite
In eating, drinking, and in avarice,
They haue their onely joy, and sole delight,
And all their study is on lust and ease,
For nothing els their greedy minds will please.
Now fie for shame why are you so dismayd,
And set abashed thus with inward griefe,
To heare the words that Helenus hath sayd,
Whom I dare swere doth shake as t'were a leafe,
And tremble, but to heare vs speake of fight,
And which is more, against all law and right?
In preiudice of th'immortallitie,
Doth take on him the truth to certefie
Of future things decreed in heauens hie,
As if he had a spirit of Prophesie
Given vnto him alone in speciall,
And that he were in science coequall
With all the Gods, and in him had the skill,
By wisedome and prescience to declare
When vnto men shall happen good or ill,
But I suppose that none so simple are,
V [...]e [...]e they want their sences to beleeue,
That any man that on the earth doth liue,
Hath knowledge to deuine of things to come,
Nor yet can show the fatall destinie
Of any one, (although that there be some
Which take on them to do't, but sure they lie.)
For that such things conceald in secresie,
Reserved are to Gods owne privitie.
Men may divine, but nought it will availe
To credit them, for as it doth appeare
None of them all but doth in judgement fayle,
Wherefore my counsell is good, Father deare,
And brethren all, this feare aside to lay
Out of your hearts, and let not that dismay
Your courages, which Helenus hath told,
Let him within the sacred Temple lie
If that in heart he feares, (as no man would)
To helpe vs to revenge our jniurie,
And spend his time in contemplation,
And fast and pray with great devotion
In those most holy places, dayes, and nites,
And study vpon his spels, and charmes:
And let such as are lusty valiant Knights
Imploy their greene and youthfull time in armes,
That they may know the better how to weild
A sword and lawnce when as they come in field.
Against their foes, for to revenge their wrong,
And giue command to Paris straight to goe,
As you pretend well furnished and strong,
With all your ships, his puissant force to show
Vpon the Greeks, our jniuries to requite,
Which to our shames, are vnrevenged yet.
And with that word he did sit downe againe,
And sayd no more, when all that present were
Did much commend his wit and warlike vaine,
And sayd that he deserued praise to beare,
For valor, high renowne, and chivalrie,
And with applause extold him to the skie.
Wherewith the King gaue thanks vnto them all,
Dismissing them as then; and presently
To dinner went in his most sumptuous hall,
Withall his sonnes, and his Nobilitie,
And hauing din'd, as soone as he did rise
From Table, cald his sonnes in secret wise.
Prince Paris and Deiphobus his brother,
And bad them straight into Panomia hie,
And take with them great store of Knights & other
To ayd them and to beare them company,
And therewith speed a Navy to prepare
To put to Sea, vpon the Greeks to warre.
And next day after Priam hastily
Appointed all his counsellors to meet
In Ilyon, and they accordingly
With speed did come, and when they were all set,
The King commanding silence to be made,
In pithie words spake vnto them, and sayd,
My noble Lords, and Counsellors most graue,
The cause that I for you as now haue sent,
Is your advise and counsell wise to haue
About our Grecian warres, which my intent
I did jmpart to you not long agoe,
And now againe the same doe meane to show.
It's not vnknowne vnto you all full well,
How that the Greeks gainst vs so enviously,
In most dispightfull wise, like Tygars [...]ell,
Did execute their cruell tyranny:
The which is yet so fresh within my thought▪
That I cannot forget it if I mought.
Which day by day increasing more and more
Within my breast, it doth so much torment
My grieued heart, and vexeth me so sore,
That in my mind I cannot becontent,
Especially when as I thinke vpon
My deare and loving Sister Ex [...].
Who by them still is held in servitude,
Which many times constraineth me to weepe,
And doth all joy ou [...] of my heart exclude,
And makes me fetch most extreame sighes & deepe,
Whose cruelty we haue too deerely bought,
And yet of late in friendly wise I sought
To them, to graunt me one thing and no more,
(In recompence of all the wrongs I had,)
Which was my Sister Exion to restore
To me againe, but they an answere made
Contrary to my expectation,
In scornesull wise and great presumption.
Refusing that so small and iust request,
And with proud threats and brags did me defie:
And sayd, that in their hearts they did detest,
In any thing my mind to satisfie.
But as we learne by rules of Surgerie,
We must with Irons sharpe seeke remedie
To cut away dead flesh, which oft doth lie
Within a wound, and will by no meanes heale,
Though nere so many oyntments we applie:
Even so we must be forst with them to deale.
For sith peace can procure no remedie,
It's our best way to vse extremitie.
Therefore by your advise I do jntend,
As soone as ere I can without delay
A Navy to the Grecian land to send
With Paris, to find meanes if that he may,
Despight of all that dare him there withstand,
Some Lady faire by force take in that land
And bring her vnto Troy, and so constraine
Them spight their hearts t'exchange faire Exion
For her, before they get her home againe,
Which by vs cannot faile for to be done,
If that the Gods to vs be favourable,
And this my counsell be acceptable
To you each one, as well as't pleaseth me.
For when a thing concernes the whole estate
Of Subiects, and their Princes dignitie,
It's reason they both should thereof debate.
And that before they doe thereon decree,
They should with one consent agree.
For things that meerely touch the comminalty,
Of right should be approved by them all,
And therefore (by you all advis'd to be,
What I should do,) this counsell I did call:
Now let me heare (sayd he) what you will say,
And therewithall his speech as then did stay.
This sayd, a Knight Percheus cal'd by name,
Stood vp (who was as Ovid telleth vs,
The sonne of that most worthy man of fame,
In his time cal'd the great Euforbius)
(In whom as Ovid fames, transformed was
The soule of learn'd and wise Pithagoras.)
And in most humble wise these words he spake:
My soveraigne Lord, may't please your noble grace
To giue me leaue (and no displeasure take,)
In this most high and honourable place,
With faithfull zeale my mind now to declare
And giue you my advise, I will not spare
To tell the truth, for favor nor for dread,
And to my power advise you to beware
Of danger that as now begins to breed,
For doubtles this t'affirme I boldly dare,
That if you meane to do as you pretend,
And Paris into Greece of purpose send;
You will repent the same [...]re long time passe,
For that my Father cal'd Euforbius,
(Whose skill in Art so true and perfect was,
And therewithall most wise and vertuous,
Who future things by his prescience knew,
And could divine what after would ensue:
And plainely tell by true Philosophy,
Th'event of future Fortune ere it fell:
For nothing whatsoere of secresie,
But he it knew, and could the same foretell,)
And all men esteem'd him wise and sage,
When he was iust an hundred yeares of age.
I do remember well would sit and weepe,
And let fall teares vpon his beard so gray,
And many times with sighes full sore and deepe,
And mournfull wise would to me speake and say:
If Paris once be sent to fetch a wife
By force in Greece, t'will breed such mortall strife
Against vs all, that this most noble Towne,
By Grecians force and extreame crueltie,
Shall be destroi'd and vtterly throwne downe:
And nothing shall procure our safety,
But Grecians swords shall all of vs devoure,
So much (sayd he) shall fortune on vs lowre.
Wherefore I you beseech now euery one,
(Without offence at that which I haue sayd,)
Let all revenge for former wrongs alone,
And your pretended voyage likewise stay,
And let not malice be the cause to cease,
The pleasant course of your most happy peace.
Nor let vs not commit ore hastely
Our happines to fickle Fortunes hand,
Ne yet disturbe with ancient enmitie
This state which now so flourishing doth stand.
For if that to the same you giue consent,
Ther's none of you but shall it sore repent.
And if thereto your minds so much are bent,
That by no meanes this voyage you will stay,
Let some man els in Paris place be sent,
That so perhaps the better speed you may:
This is (sayd he) my counsell in this case,
Which I thought good to giue vnto your grace.
Which sayd, they all began to shoot and cry
Against him in most fierce and furious wise,
And ra [...]l'd at him and at the Prophesie,
His Father told, and sayd t'was all but lies.
Which after proved in conclusion,
To turne vnto their owne confusion.
For that's before ordain'd, shall sure fall out,
And state of things with fate is so inglewd,
That whatsoere must be, without all doubt
Will come to passe, and may not be eschewd:
Which cau [...]d them all t'agree in one consent,
That Paris into Greece should straight be sent.
(Their destiny was such they could't not shun)
And hauing all agreed thereon, they rose,
And for that time their counsell it was don.
But when t'was knowne abroad as Guydo shoes,
Like woman cleane distraught of wit she far'd,
And wise and learn'd Cassandra thereof heard.
And sayd, alas what will you doe?
And in most dolefull wise began to weepe,
And sayd, shall Paris thither goe?
Which words she did pronounce with sighes full deepe,
And falling in a swound with extreame paine,
Infurious wise began sore to complaine.
And woefully gaue many a grieuous groane,
And for to die, she could not then with hold
To mourne and make great lamentation,
And tare her haire, and both her hands did fold,
And said, alas (a hundred times and more)
Oh fortune fell why is thy rage so sore
Against vs bent, that with most angry frowne,
Thou weau'st the webbe of our adversitie?
And plotting the vtter ruine of our Towne,
Procur'st our deaths with great extreamitie
By sword of vengeance, (worse then pestilence,)
Increasing of hate and extreame violence.
Oh woefull Troy, what is thy gu [...]lt alas
That thou must be destroid & brought to nought?
What hast thou done, or what is thy trespasse,
That for the same such vengance shold be wrought?
Oh Priam noble King, what fault hast thou
Committed gainst the Gods, that they as now
Provoked are such vengeance great to throw
On thee, and on thy whole posteritie?
Oh Mother deare, Queene Hecuba also,
Tell me I thee beseech the certaintie,
What manner crime, and other great offence
Hast thou committed, t'haue such recompence?
For to behold the daies so terrible,
When all thy sonnes in cruell wise shall die
By dint of sword, and death most horrible:
Why will you not alas your minds applie
To hearken to my counsell now in time,
And seeke how to prevent while t'is the prime,
These dangers great before they doe proceed
Vnto the full effect and period?
Which by the Gods is certainely decreed,
And by no meanes nor way may be withstood;
Vnlesse that wee another course will shape,
The doome of th'incensed Gods t'escape.
The memory whereof doth so torment
My grieued mind, that I cannot jndure
The woe I feele. And therewithall she went
To Priamus her Father to procure
Some remedy, and fell vpon the ground,
And wept as fast as if she should haue dround
In flouds of teares, which trickled downe her face▪
And as her paine would her permit, she spake
To him, and cried in that most woefull case,
Beseeching him some remedy to take
In that extreame, as she that too well knew
What danger by the same there would ensue.
But all her teares and cries did nought preuaile,
For Priam would no answere thereto make,
For as men say, what shall be, cannot faile,
But in due time the full effect will take.
And fortune with her smoth dissembling face,
Offended (as it seemes) with Troian race;
With malice did in heart against them burne▪
And waighting to intrap them by a wile,
Vpon a sudden gaue her wheele a turne,
And that she might the sooner them beguile,
She hastened them to their confusion,
With wilfulnesse, and jndiscretion
Against the Greeks a quarrell to vndertake,
And therevpon their counsell they did hold,
And did agree that voyage then to make
Into the Grecian land, fall out what would.
But if they had been rul'd by good advise,
Of those that did perswade them to be wise.
And followe Hectors counsell which he gaue,
And Helenus advise retaind in mind,
And well obserud Percheus sentence graue,
Which after they to be most true did find:
And lastly to Cassandraes Prophesie,
Had bent their [...]ares, and holden't for no lie:
They had not fallen into such miserie,
As afterward they did, but had liu [...]d still
In honor, and in great felicitie.
But Fortune that will alwaies haue her will
Who ere sayth nay, was cause that mou'd themso
In hast vpon their voiage for to goe.
And with lookes smoth and full of flatterie,
And sugred words with venomous intent,
To show her double heart and trecherie,
Pretending good, but vnto mischiefe be [...]t.
And watching time against them to preuaile,
With Faith in face, but fraud within her tayle.
So much intised them to giue consent,
That Paris should in hast to Grecia goe,
That by no meanes they could themselues content,
Till that they had agreed it should be so.
Whose Voyage in the chapter doth ensue,
I will at large declare and show to you.

CHAP. IIII.

¶ How King Priam sent Paris, Diophebus, and o­thers into Greece, to be revenged for the rauishing of his Sister Exion, and how they being in Grecia rauished faire Helena wife to Menelaus, and brought her with them to Troy.

WHen time approacht that Titan gan to lead
His chariot twixt the starres of Hiades,
(Which haue their seate in Taurus horned head,)
And in the glistring starres cal'd Pleiades:
Whereof six doe continually appeare
Vnto our sight, the Seauenth for shame & feare
Doth hide her head, still thinking on her crime,
And therefore dares nor show her beames so cleare
But keepeth backe, and will not in due time
With her faire sisters openly appeare,
Because that she with an earthly God did lie,
And was found with him in adulterie.
And since that time she hath so bashfull beene,
(And for her fact asham'd as doth appeare,
That seldome in our sight she wilbe seene.)
And when the Sun in the celestiall spheare,
Betweene these starres in full sixteenth degree,
Of Taurus heat was iustly found to bee,
And in the sweet and pleasant moneth of May
When Flora fills each medow, hill, and dale,
With faire and dainty flowers fresh and gay,
And Zephyrus with his most pleasant gale
Doth ayd to cloth them there in liueries new,
And makes their blossomes show with liuely hew.
And bid vs to be merry, light, and glad,
That they new fruit vpon them gin to beare,
Gainst Antumne when as haruest in his had,
And ripened grapes vpon each Vine appeare.
In that same moneth when men for their disport,
Doe walke abroad themselues to recomfort,
Reioycing to behold the trees so full
Of blossomes sweet, in hope that they will beare
Good store of fruit, to gather and to pull,
In ripening time, and season of the yeare,
In midst of the fresh and pleasant spring,
When little Birds delightfull notes do sing.
Paris and Deiphobus that were gon
In hast into Panomie, purposely
To mustar men and make provision,
And all things for the Navy, speedily
Returne to Troy, and in their company
Three thousand valiant Knights of great activity
And twenty two faire ships well furnished,
With all things that to them belonging were,
Who having all provided that should need,
King Priam did no longer time deferre,
But willed Lord Aeneas, Anthenor,
And Polidamus, and many Troians more
To arme themselues, and preparation make,
With Paris on that voiage for to goe:
And when they came their leaues of him to take,
In pithie words he did vnto them show
The full effect of his intention,
Was chiefly to recover Exion.
For when that Voyage especially he made,
And so the time no longer to delay,
When Paris and the rest together had
Their leaues of Priam tane, they went their way,
And entring ship, did presently set sayle
(In Venus name,) in hope she would not fayle
By ayd of Ioue, t'assist them in their need,
And entring Sea, with weather faire and cleare,
And wind at will, they sayled with great speed,
That in short time they vnto land gr [...]w neare.
For nothing in their voyage did them let,
And yet by chance vpon the Sea they met
A Ship wherein King Menalaus then was,
That Sayled vnto Pyilon there to see
Duke Nestor, and the time with him to passe,
Suspecting not each to other foes to bee.
Within those ships, the which King Menalaus
Vnto King Agamennon brother was,
And husband to Queene Helena the faire,
That sister was vnto the brothren twaine,
King Castor and King Pollux, Knights that were
Of great renowne in armes, and did attaine
Vnto such height therein, that for the same
No Grecian Knights did ere deserue more fame.
Who at that time remaind within a Towne
Cald Strinester, their cheife and princely seat,
Wherein they joyntly raignd with great renowne,
For that the loue betweene them was so great
That they could not jndure to liue alone,
And with them was the Princes Hermione.
(A Lady that in beautie did excell
The daughter of their sister Helena.)
And yet although as then it so befell,
That they together met vpon the Sea,
And that they saild close by each others side,
Yet were their hearts fild with inward pride,
That neither to each other one made show
To call or aske from wence they came or were,
But past along, and for the wind did blow
Directly with the Troians, and did beare
Them swiftly thence, they did within a while
Ariue before an old and ancient Isle,
Which Cithera is called at this day.
And there within the haven did anchor cast,
Where presently not making any stay,
Apparelling themselues, they did in hast
Set foot on land with resolution stout,
And hope to bring their purposesone about.
(Within this Isle an ancient Temple was,
Most pleasant and most beautifull to see,
For that in sumpteous worke it did surpasse
All other whatsoere in that countrie,
Which honourd was of all both farre and neare
Throughout the Land, and once in every yeare
A solemne feast was kept within the same,
Where many men with great devotion,
In honour of the Goddesse Venus came.
To whom they vse with superstition,
(Which by them was obserud from age to age,)
To bring great gifts, and went on pilgrimage,
And every man did offer sacrifice,
Where while they kneeld and most deuoutly said
Their Orations to her in Parum wise,
The Image vnto them an answere made
Of every thing whereof they stood in doubt,
Resolving them, how that it would fall out.
This custome they do vse continually
Within that Church so sumptuous and so braue,
And did obserue the same most reuerently,
(In hope that they the better speed should haue.)
And as the Gods would hau't, their fortune was
To goe on shoare the selfe same day when as
This yearely feast was kept in solemne wise,
Whereto great store of Grecians flockt and came
From every place to offer sacrifice,
And other rights t'obserue about the same.
The which as soone as Paris did espie,
He tooke with him some of his company
And with them to the Temple went his way,
Apparelled in braue and sumptuous wise,
T'obserue the ancient rights there vsd that day,
At Uenus shrine and t'offer sacrifice,
And kneeling downe with great devotion.
Before her Altar made his Oration,
And on it layd great store of Iewells rare,
Orientall pearles, rich stones, and heapes of gold,
(For at that time he would not seeme to spare.)
Which made the Greekes admire, and to behold
His beauty, sumptuous port and Maiestie,
And in their hearts to muse what he might be.
For as the story saith, he was so faire▪
That no man might therein compare with him.
And therewithall so fine proportion bare,
For comely shape of body and of lim,
That there was never seene a brauer Knight,
For all men to behold him tooke delight.
And prest in heaps about him for the same,
Desiring much his name and state to know,
And for what cause as then he thither came,
And prayd his men the same to them to show:
But they did make their answere in such wise,
That no man by their speech could ought surmise.
Yet some of them not fearing to declare,
The truth both of his name and dwelling place,
Did boldly tell, and thereof made no spare,
That Priam King of Troye his Father was,
A Prince of mighty force and great renowne,
And that he thither came for Exion.
And thus of him they did enquire and spake,
As they together were, and every one
Of severall minds did severall verdicts make,
And all of them were in suspition:
But chiefly they in whome no iudgement were,
For euery man desireth newes to heare.
And whilst of him the speech went far and neare,
And past from man to man in Greecian land,
Queene Helena at last thereof did heare,
And when as she the same did vnderstand,
And truth thereof for certainty did know,
Of those that went and came both too and fro,
She could not rest vntill that with her eie,
She found report and sight in one t'agree,
And for that time determined to trie
The truth, and those braue Troyan Knights to see:
(But more (God knows) of meere intention
For Paris sake, then for devotion.)
She fained on a Pilgrimage to goe,
Vnto the shrine of Venus bright and cleare,
That vnto her some honor she might shoe:
And when all things for her prepared were,
And she adorn'd most like a stately Queene,
She went to see, and likewise to be seene.
For what should mooue her else with such desire,
And in her heart put such a motion,
To goe to see new sights; but secret fire
Of wanton lust? and no devotion,
Vpon the Goddesse Venus then to call.
And as the manner is of women all,
Delighting to be there where great resort
Of people are, and t [...]shew themselues at playes,
And at each common pastime and disport,
That men their beauties may commend & praise:
And at their better libertie to see,
How they may find an oportunitie
T'effect their wils, and alwaies lie in wait,
In places where their minds and thoughts are se [...],
In couert wise their wanton lookes to [...]ait,
And priuily like favor there to get
From those they loue, by glauncing of the eie,
And for to shew what in their hearts doth lie.
With touch of hand in secret mongst the prease,
Or pinch on arme, or on the foot to tread,
Of those whome they do like, they never cease,
Till of their wanton purpose they haue sped:
For gainst their wils there's neither wit nor might
That may prevaile: for be it wrong or right,
They'l haue their wils who so saith yea or nay,
For to withstand their lust no man hath might,
Thus much of them doth Guido boldly say,
And throughout all his Booke takes great delight,
Of women-kind to speake nought else but ill,
The which to write is sore against my will.
And't grieues me that I must of force rehearse,
The bitter words which in his Booke are found,
Whereby he doth their honors so reverse;
For that I am to women so much bound:
And sith th'are all so courteous and so kind,
I dare notspeake of them more then I find
In Guidoes Booke, which when I read, did make
My very heart and sences all to tremble,
And with the feare I had my hand did shake,
To thinke my words with his I must resemble:
But to amend his fault, as loath t'abide
Too long in speaking ill, he seemes to chide
With Helena, because that then she went
With fained shew of great devotion,
Her offring vnto Venus to present,
When as she had another motion
Within her heart, the which she should haue stayd,
And in these words his mind he spake, & sayd:
The greatest crosse that man on earth can find,
And of all woes beginning, and the root,
Is the deceit and fraud of women-kind,
Against the which to striue it doth not boot:
For when as lust doth in their hearts preuaile,
Some mischiefe doth ensue without all faile.
Which no man can by any meanes restraine,
Whereof let faire Queene Helen sample bee,
The which could not her inward lust refraine,
But needs would go the Troyan Knight to see,
Whome he had never knowne in all his life,
For which there did arise such mortall strife,
That thousands for her sake were after slaine,
And brought vnto their ends by cruelty.
But Helena, in sooth now tell me plaine,
What vglie ghost was it that mooued thee,
To leaue thy louing Lord and husband so,
And all along on pilgrimage to goe?
Didst thou at home liue discontentedly,
That needs thou must go seeke for companie?
Thou rather shouldst haue staied priuatelie
Within thy house, and not so careleslie
Haue left the same in absence of thy King:
But sure thou wast too wilfull in that thing,
And negligent, to thinke what might ensue;
Thou oughtst t'haue kept thy self out of thy boūds,
And not haue tane thy flight within thy mew,
But thou wentst out like Hare amongst the hounds,
There to be caught of very wilfulnesse:
For true, it is, and so thou must confesse,
That thou couldst not thy wanton lust refraine,
And wilfullie thy fained vowe wouldst keepe.
But oh how many women haue been tane
In such a snare, when fitter t'was to sleepe
Within their beds, and not abroad been found!
Was't ever heard that any ship was drownd,
Or cast on rocks, and all in peeces rent,
Or tost in seas by weather foule and ill,
If that vnto the sea it neuer went,
But alwaies kept within the hauen still?
So he that no occasions will eschew,
Nor feare what danger after may ensue,
Cannot but needs must of necessity,
At vnawares, when least he doth suspect,
Fall into trouble and adversity:
And he that is so foolish to neglect
His way, and of his footing hath no care,
Let him take heed he fals not in a snare.
For when as any harme is done and past,
It is too late thereof for to repent:
If Helena had in her mind forecast
What after might ensue, and been content
To stay at home, bad rumor had not run
Of her throughout the world as it hath done.
Which her mishap men pittie may of right,
That she the cause was and destruction
Of many a valiant, braue, and worthy Knight,
And likewise brought vnto confusion
Her husband, and full many thousands more,
That in her quarrell fought, & dyde therefore.
Thus Helen vnto Cithezon did goe,
In all her braue and Princely ornaments,
And solemnly (although with fained shoe)
Her offring made, with many rich presents
Vnto the Goddesse Venus, on whose name
She called, cry'd, and prayd t'accept the same.
When Paris this advantage had espide,
With all the hast and speed that ere he might,
Vnto the Temple presently he hide,
Where he of her no sooner had a sight,
But he was pierced through with Cupids dart,
And stricken in loue euen at the very heart.
So much he mus'd at her great seemlinesse,
Her goodly face, and her intising eye,
Her fine proportion, and her comlinesse,
And last of all, her great and rare beautie:
Presuming that for fame and feature,
Nature nere fram'd a fairer creature.
So Angell like to him she did appeare,
And therewithall she was so amiable,
That in his sight she seem'd as if she were
A heauenly Goddesse, faire and admirable:
For in his heart he did himselfe assure,
That she could be no mortall creature.
So faire and so celestiall she did looke,
In every part, whereof most curiously
Within his heart a perfect view he tooke,
And well beheld and mark't aduisedly,
Her golden haire like to the radiant streames,
Which do descend from Phebus glistring beams.
Her beautifull complection cleare and bright,
Her cherry checkes like to the Damaske Rose,
Mixt with the leaues of Lillies pure and white,
Her christ all eyes, which in them did inclose
A Paradise of pleasure and delight,
And able were with their transparant sight,
This amorous heart cleane through & through to pierce
All which with other parts in her that were,
If I should take vpon me to rehearse,
As Guido doth from head to foot declare
The same at large, with eloquent deuise,
My english tong thereto would not suffice:
For that our speech and Latine are vnlike,
I likewise want the Art of Portraiture,
And haue no skill in copious Rethoricke,
For to describe so faire a Creature.
And of the Muses nine I know not one:
Therefore I must vnto you every one,
Excuse my selfe, though not of negligence,
For that no want of will there is in me,
But onlie for default of eloquence,
And vnto Guido send you there to see,
How orderlie he did declare the same,
So that to tak't on me I were too blame.
But I will to the point proceed and show,
How Paris still his eye on her did cast,
And in the temple walked too and fro,
Till hauing well bethought himselfe at last,
To ease his heart enflam'd with Cupids fire,
He did approach vnto her somewhat nier:
And still full of this colour went and came,
So deeply was his mind with loue possest,
And Helena for her part did the same,
And priuately in heart could take no rest:
But still on him by stealth did cast an eye,
Though outwardly none could her well espie.
For as she thought she never saw his peere,
Mongst all the men that on the earth did liue,
For comelinesse and beautie passing cleere,
Nor that to her contentment more did giue:
So that on nothing else she set her mind,
But how she might a fit occasion find,
And haue the meanes and opportunitie,
Conveniently with him a word to speake,
In other place at better libertie,
Which was the onely thing that she did seeke:
And stil her countenance chang'd. For Cupids fire
In both their hearts had kindled like desire.
And cloathed them with Venus liverie,
And yet no message twixt them then there went,
But privie lookes glauncing from the e [...]e,
Assured them what each to other ment:
And made them wish in heart, that secretly
An amorous combate twixt them they might try,
And their desires vnto each other shoe.
At last as Paris by degrees him gat
Vp higher, and vnto the place did goe,
Whereas the faire Queene Helena then: sat:
In secret wise together they did speake,
And as they might their minds to other breake.
Declaring what did punish them at the heart,
But this was done least that it should be spied,
When as the presse of people did depart,
And such as stayd were busie occupied
To stare vpon the temple, and to gase
About the same, as people in a mase,
To see it so adornd in sumptuous wise,
And while they spake not any one might heare
A word that past, least that they should surmise,
That twixt them any bad intent there were,
Nor what their secret speech as then should meane.
At last it was agreed by the Queene
And Paris with one full and free consent,
What time they should together meet againe,
And so they both out of the Temple went,
(Though loath) with hearts repleat with louers paine,
And that they might avoyd suspition.
When Paris from Queene Helena as gone,
With present speed vnto his ship he went,
Where hauing sta [...]d a while, without delay
For all the Troyan Lords and Knights he seat,
To whome in pithie words he gan to say,
My Lords and friends in briefe to you to tell,
The cause vnto you all is knowne full well,
Wherefore to Greece my Father hath vs sent,
And what Commission to vs he did giue:
You know it was the full of his intent,
That we should seeke to take and to relieue
My noble Aunt, the Princely Exion,
Out of the hands of proud King Telamon.
The which to do I can deuise no way,
How it by vs should well effected be,
For no man can this vnto me denay,
That he is mighty strong in his Country:
And well alied with friends on everie side,
And hath an heart abounding with such pride,
That to leaue her by force he doth disdaine.
The best way then that I can now deuise,
(Sith with him so to deale it is in vaine,
And that our power thereto doth not suffice:
Because we are not able to withstand
His force, nor with him fight within his Land.)
Is, sith that fortune hath vs hither brought,
And caus'd vs by adventure here to land,
(When as God knows it was not in our thought)
At Venus home, that not far hence doth stand,
And wherein at this time there is great store
Of Iewels, Gold, and other treasures more,
The which the Greekes vnto it hither bring
By sea and land, and there both rich and poore,
To Uenus vse to make their offering,
And her therein most solemnly adore:
And that the faire Queene Helen now is there,
I thinke that it the best course for vs were
To beare her hence by force, and prisoner make,
And having put the Grecians to the foile,
Their gold and treasure forcibly to take,
And them of it and of their liues to spoile:
Which hauing done without all tarrying,
The same into our ships this night to bring.
Whereof we cannot faile who ere saith nay,
And to that end (said he) let's ready make,
And without further respect or delay,
Our armours and our weapons to vs take:
To set on them with all our force and might,
Which said, within their ships they staid till night,
Till Phebus did on earth no more appeare,
But was gone downe as t'was his woonted guise,
And glistring stars did shine most bright & cleare:
Before the Moone that time began to rise,
They all went forth their ships in braue array,
And to the temple straight did take their way.
Intending not long in the same to tarry,
And so in hast they entred Citheron,
Where going straight vnto the Sanctuarie,
(Without all manner of devotion,
To Venus done in her Oratorie,
For it was then out of their memorie
To worship her, they had no such intent,
But onely for to rob and spoile the same,
Whereto as then their minds were wholly bent)
All what so ere vnto their hands then came
They tooke and bore away, and nothing left
Within the Church nor I sle, but them bereft
Of all their Iewels, precious stones, and gold,
Their reliques and their vessels sacared,
And every other thing what ere they could,
Were it prophane, or were it hallowed,
They made it prey, and in their furious mood,
Did kill and slay all those that them withstood.
And many that with gastly wounds did bleed,
Which they receaued had to saue their right,
As prisoners to their ships with them were led,
(Not able to withstand their puissant might:)
Which after liu'd in long captiuity,
With sorrow, griefe, and great extreamity.
While Paris earnestlie for Helen sought,
Whom when he found in courteous wise he kist,
And ioy fullie within his armes her caught,
For she seem'd not to striue nor to resist:
But yeelded vnto him without delay,
For't had been but meere follie to say nay.
Her heart being woone before that he came there,
She could not striue, (for women tis not fit)
And for that cause to yeeld she had lesse feare,
And he with such good words as then were meet
Did comfort her, and therewith did her beare
Vnto his ship, and letting her stay there
Well guarded by his men returnd againe,
To make an end of his desired pray.
Not far from thence within a pleasant plaine
A Castle stood, where many souldiers lay
To keepe the same, who waking gaue a shout,
And sodainly at once did issue out,
Andran in hast to rescue Citheron.
But ere they came the Troyans had their pray,
And with the same vnto their ships were gone,
Wherewith the Greekes did make no long delay
But followed them, and then began to fight
On either side, with all their force and might.
And Tygar like each other slew and kild,
Till many dead within the field did lie,
For neither vnto other then would yeeld,
But at the last the Greekes were forst to flye:
For that the Troyans doubled them in nomber
With multitudes, and did them fore incomber.
And made them run backe to the Castle gate,
In hope to saue themselues therein by flight,
But all in vaine for them, for t'was too late,
The Troyans were of so great force and might,
That to resist it could them not availe,
So cruelly they did them then assaile.
And furiously did put them all to death,
Not sparing one, but all they ouertooke,
By dint of sword did yeeld their vitall breath,
And when the field by force they had forsooke,
The battaile by the Troyans being woone,
In fierce and furious wise he then begun
The Castle straight to ransacke and to pill,
Wherein they did great store of treasure gaine,
And hauing done their pleasures and their will,
With that and all the rest they did obtaine
In Citheron, vnto their ships they went,
And as it was their purpose and intent.
The wind as then being good and peaceable,
They sailed towards Troye without delay,
And hauing weather faire and comfortable,
They did arriue within the seauenth day
That they put to the sea, at Tenedowne,
A Castle standing neere vnto the Towne.
And presently out of their ships they went,
And with all speed the King aduertised,
(By messenger whom they in hast then sent)
Of their returne▪ and how that they had sped:
The which when Priam heard he was full glad,
And in his heart such ioy and pleasure had,
That their affaires so well had fallen out,
That in all hast by his authority,
He caus'd it to be publisht round about
The towne of Troye, with great solemnity:
Comanding that for those good news they shold,
In sumptuous wise a solemne feast-day hold.
To thanke their Gods in meeke and humble wise,
And on their Altars with devotion,
To offer them great guifts and sacrifice,
While Paris staying still at Tenedon,
Did welcome, feast, and Princely entertain'd
Queene Helena, that wept and sore complain'd.
And evermore bewaild her fortune fell,
That so mongst strangers comfortlesse alone,
She was constraind against her will to dwell
Farre sequestred from friends, and knew not one,
To whome she might declare in privitie,
The griefe she had for her Captivity.
And still she wept and waild with pittious cheare,
That flouds of tears down frō her cheeks did raine,
Distilling from her eies most faire and cleare,
And through the great extreamity and paine
Which she then felt, she sighed bitterly,
And with a wofull voice did often crye.
To thinke how she had left King Menelaus,
For which she wished death her heart to ease,
And for that cause became so furious,
That nothing could her griefe and woe appease:
And more t'encrease and multiply her paine,
When as she thought vpon her brethren twaine,
Her Husband, and her little Daughter deare
Faire Hermion, whome she did loue so well,
Her face with griefe did pale and wan appeare,
Which other times in beautie did excell
The Lillie flower, and much the same surpasse:
But then her roseat colour changed was.
And more and more her griefe did still encrease,
That in her face she was cleane altered,
And by no meanes her sorrow would surcease,
But in most dolefull wise that life she led:
Till Paris to relieue her heauinesse,
Went vnto her, and with all gentlenesse,
And pleasant words somewhat appeasd her mind,
And said, alas most faire and noble Queene,
Why are you to your selfe so much vnkind?
I surely thinke that purposely you meane,
And will your death and finall end procure,
Or els you wold not such extreme greefe endure▪
Nor causlesse shed so many a brinish teare,
That with the same you wet your outward weed,
And shew your selfe like vnto one that were
A penitent, lamenting her misdeed:
Alas faire Queene, alas, why do you so?
Let all this griefe and sorrow now cleane goe.
And liue no more sweet Ladie in distresse,
But leaue your woe and chearish vp your heart,
And thinke no more vpon this heauinesse,
But as it is a prudent womans part,
Be glad, and what so ever you will craue
Of me or mine, be sure you shall it haue.
Let passe I say these salt and brinish teares,
For tis in vaine in sorrow still to liue,
And here my faith I plight to you and yours,
That I will you maintaine, keepe, and relieue,
In better sort then ever yet you were
By Menelaus, and therefore haue no feare.
For I will doe what I to you protest,
Vpon the faith and honour of a Knight,
For falshood in my heart I do detest.
Wherewith the Queene as well as then she might,
Fayning sighes with water in her eyes
Did answere him, and spake in louely wise:
I know (sayd she) whether I be loath or leefe,
Vnto your will I must not now say nay,
Although it be to my no little griefe,
For she that's bound, of force must needs obay:
And sith that from your hands I cannot flie,
I rest content with my Captiuity.
Which (gainst my will) constraines me here to dwell.
For it belongeth not to women-kind,
In forraine soyle to striue or to rebell,
Where they are like no favour great to find:
And that their cause shall not maintained be.
But if you list in heart to pittie me,
And in your mind conceaue so good a deed,
As to extend to vs some charitie,
While that you liue you shall the better speed:
For he that helps man in necessity,
And comforts them that are in woe and griefe,
Shall never faile of comfort and reliefe.
Then Lady deare, quoth Paris, I assure
Vnto you now, that what so ere you craue,
I will the same at your desire procure,
And thereof in your heart assurance haue:
And that in such aboundance as you list,
For no man shall your will and heast resist.
And therefore be no whit at all dismaid,
But comfort take and certainly belieue,
That I will doe what euer I haue said,
And now (said he) all sorrow cleane remoue:
And saying so, he led her to a place,
That purposely for her prepared was.
Where, after certaine speeches twixt them two,
In secret wise when they together were,
He did begin her plainly there to woe,
And vnto her did say, my Ladie deare,
(Thinke not I call you so, to please your mind,
But from my very heart as you shall find.)
And therefore entertaine within your thought,
What I to you shall speake, and thus I say,
S [...]th that by gods decree y'are hither brought,
(For no man can their will and power stay)
I dare affirme that you were not accurst
Therein, and that they do't not for the worst,
But for your good, and so you must it take,
And sith there is no other remedie,
You must of your necessitie vertue make,
And be as glad, and liue as merrilie,
As if you were within your natiue land,
For now I giue and plight to you my hand.
That here you shall at pleasure all things haue,
How deare so ere it doth vnto me cost,
And what so ere your heart can wish or craue,
You shall it haue, and hereof dare I boast,
That this our land, (as well it shall be found)
In everie thing doth plenteouslie abound.
And much more then within the Grecian land,
And though that far from th'I sland cald Achay,
You are as now, sith you cannot withstand
Your fortune, you must not your selfe dismay:
For that with more and greater maiestie,
Honor, dutie, wealth and dignitie,
You shall be serued here, then there you were.
And cause you must your husband now forsake,
And gainst your will his companie forbeare,
For which you seeme such sorrow here to make,
Your care therein by me shall soone be eas'd,
For that if you therewith be not displeas'd:
In stead of him I will your husband be,
And loue and honour you with all my heart,
If you can likewise thinke so well of me:
And till that death by force shall make vs part,
I will be true both in my word and deed,
For in my heart I fullie haue decreed,
To be to you as loving and as kind▪
As dutifull, as friendlie, and as true,
As ever you King Menelaus did find,
And in all things will yeeld to you your due:
And here my faith and troth to you I plight;
To last vntill that death with dart me smight.
And though my words do seeme but rude & plaine▪
I hope for that you will me not disgrace,
Nor any whit this my request disdaine,
Sith I descend and come of roy all race,
And am as noble of degree and blood
As Menelaus, and in each point as good;
And will to you more faithfull be in loue
Then ere he was, and never change for new,
For nothing shall my heart from you remoue;
Then sith this I protest to you is true,
I pray you now leaue off to waile and weepe,
And let some comfort in your bosome creepe:
For little doth availe this woe and greefe,
If you consider well your owne estate,
And thanke the Gods that send you such reliefe
In your distresse, and thinke y'are fortunate
To hap so well, and this is all I craue,
That loue for loue of you I now may haue.
Alas (said she) can it possible be,
That I which haue my friends abandoned,
And liue in sorrow and adversitie,
Should not be grieu'd, and wish that I were dead?
I see no cause why I should cease to erie,
Nor yet my cheeks from brinish teares to drie.
It cannot be, for sure it were gainst kind,
That my so sore and great extreamitie,
I should so soone abandon out of mind,
And that the thing which toucheth me so nie,
And is the onely cause of this my smart,
Could be so lightlie cast out of my heart:
And for whose sake I am as now constrain'd,
To sorrow for our separation:
But sith the Gods for me haue thus ordain'd,
That I should loue in this strange Nation,
I am content to take it patientlie,
And to their heasts t'ob [...]y submissiuely.
For follie t'were to striue against their will.
Wherefore as now my selfe I will prouoke,
(Although it seeme my very heart to kill)
For to submit my necke vnto this yoke:
And gainst my will of meere necessitie,
Obay to what so ere you'l do with me,
For't would not helpe if that I should't refuse.
And thus somewhat he did her griefe appease,
And yet what ere she said, she could not chuse
But thinke thereon. But what should she disease
Her selfe so much, sith t'is a thing most sure,
An heart of [...]int could not so much endure.
For 'tis the common vse of women-kind,
Till they haue wept and wailed at their will,
Nere to surcease nor to content their mind,
But when they haue of sorrow had their fill,
And wearied are therewith, they will as fast,
All sorrow from their hearts as lightlie cast:
And soone lay hold on comfort in their griefe,
A man their hearts may easilie disseuer,
From woe to ioye, from sorrow to reliefe,
There is no storme that can endure for euer:
For as the learned write, things violent,
By natures course cannot be permanent.
When stormes are past the Sun much brighter is,
And shineth hotter after then before,
So by the speech and counsell of Paris,
Faire Helena as then did weepe no more.
For as the faire and pleasant morning bright,
By custome and by kind doth follow night:
Right so in time her heart began to cheare,
And of her teares the flouds likewise to drie,
And hauing cleane abandoned all feare,
She liu'd in Troye with Paris ioyfullie:
As in the Chapter following you may see,
Whereas at large it shall declared bee.

CHAP. V.

¶ How Paris was receaued into Troye at his returne out of Greece, and how he was married to Queene Helena.

WHen Helena had left her mourning cheare,
And that her rosent colour shewd againe,
Within her face most beautifull and cleare,
And had forgotten all her griefe and paine:
Paris that was in heart so amorous,
In hast did send vnto King Priamus,
For horse and men, apparell gorgeous,
And diuers costlie iewels of great prise,
That Helena might shew more glorious,
And enter Troye in braue and sumptuous wise:
And all things he desired being sent,
Without delay to Troye with her he went.
And by the way King Priamus them met,
Accompanied with his Nobilitie,
And many faire and gallant Ladies great,
And maidens by their birth of high degree:
And with thē store of knights that were most braue▪
And Citizens which their attendance gaue.
To welcome Paris, who as then did ride
With all his prisoners, two and two before,
And he, and Deiphobus on each side
Of Helena, to honor her the more:
And after them the Lords of high degree,
And all the rest most orderlie to see.
And tweene each ranke did leaue a little space,
That so their traine the longer might appeare,
And in that sort they road an easie pace,
Till that by Priam they encountred were:
Who met them in a faire and pleasant plaine,
And in his hand tooke Helens horses raine.
And so conuaied her into the towne,
Where store of people flockt on every side,
And all the way along ran vp and downe,
To gase and looke vpon their new come bride:
The Trumpets sounding in most stately wise,
Which made their eccho mount vp to the skies.
And many another kind of Instrument,
In sundrie wise playd seuerall melodie
Before them as into the Towne they went,
So that to heare the pleasant harmonie,
T'would make mans heart to leap & mount for ioy.
And when they all were entred into Troye,
King Priam at his Pallace did alight,
And by the hand did take the Grecian Queene,
And straight with all convenient speed he might,
Led her into a Chamber well beseene:
Commanding all his Officers to see,
That all what ere she need prepar'd should be.
And calling for a cup of wine, he dranke
Vnto the Queene to welcome her withall,
Forthwith she did in humble wise him thanke,
And so he went againe into the Hall
Till supper time, and left her there to make
Her ready, and her ease meane while to take.
But of the ioy that was within the towne,
In every place where people sat together,
And in the streets of Troye walk't vp and downe,
And spake thereof the one vnto the other:
My stile is all to rude of it to write,
So much they did in heart and mind delight.
That Paris safely home returned is,
And in his voyage sped so luckily,
And of his men not any one did misse,
But all had scaped death most happily:
And to fulfill their ioy vpon next day,
As Guido in his Latine verse doth say,
They did the time no further off prolong,
But with all speed t'Apolloes Temple went,
And fore the Larke that morne begun his song,
Together did with full and free consent,
Giue faith and troth, & knit the wedlocke band
Betweene them two, for euermore to stand.
Whereto the King himselfe did giue consent,
And all his Lords and Nobles in likewise,
The Commons also were therewith content
And greed thereto, in favour of Paris:
And so the wedding feast most royally,
Continued was with great solemnity
Within the towne of Troye for eight daies space.
To write each kind of revell, sport, and dance,
The severall sorts of mirths that then there was,
The braue attire and lofty countenance
Of Courtiers proud, and lovers amorous,
The privie grutching of the jealious.
The runnings and the tilts on every day,
The divers courses serued at the feast,
The seuerall kinds of musicke that did play,
The Largis given, the overplus did rest,
When all was done whole thousands to suffice;
My English will not serue for to devise,
Such tearmes and phrases as sufficient were
To shew the same. But when the certainty
Thereof did come vnto Cassandraes eare,
A thousand sighs she fetcht and gan to cry:
And woefully did teare and rent her haires,
And in this sort her face all wet with teares,
Said wretched Troye, why erst thou in this case,
And giu'st consent vnto this villanie,
Why art thou now become so voyd of grace,
As to maintaine so foule adultery:
And suffrest Paris thus to wed and wiue
Queene Helena, whose husband is aliue?
Oh woefull Troye too cruell is thy fate,
The time is come thou shalt destroyed be,
To shun the same it is now all too late,
For many Fathers shall their children lee
This day in health, the next day shall be slaine,
And midst the fields lie wounded in great paine.
And many wiues in sorrow great shall weepe,
To see their husbands lie in open field,
Their bodies pierst and cut with wounds full deepe,
And there in grieuous wise their breaths to yeeld:
Alas how can they chuse but sore complaine,
And yet must be content and this sustaine.
Oh wretched Mother, woefull is thy case,
To loose thy children without remedy,
And see them slaine each one before thy face,
And shall not help't though nere so lowd thou cry:
Alas (good Queene) what griefe shall thee surpresse,
And yet shalt and no ease in thy distresse.
Oh Troyans blinded with security,
Why will you not be rul'd by my aduise,
And to avoyd the Grecians cruelty,
With speed make seperation twixt Paris
And Helena, and their foule act abhorre,
And her againe vnto her Lord restore.
What, thinke you that his theft and cruell deed,
The Grecians will forget and not require?
No, no, assure your selues without all dread,
The sword of vengeance shall most sharpely bite
For his offence, and will endure the smart,
When as we shall behold in spight our heart,
Our Pallaces and houses all cast downe,
And cruelly destroyd before our face,
And lastly the subversion of our towne,
Which at the Grecians hands shall find no grace:
Alas, alas, most wretchlesse Queene Helaine,
Vnhappy woman causer of our paine.
Bold misadvis'd, and meerly without grace,
Thou onely art procurer of our care,
And sole disturber of our happie peace,
And kindled hast the brand of cruell warre:
For thou alone art ground and root of all
The mischiefe that on vs is like to fall.
And shall see many a dolefull funerall,
And mournfull feasts held herewithin this towne,
Thus did Cassandra loudly cry and call,
To every one as she went vp and downe
Throughout the streets, & boldly to them told,
What by that meanes vnto them happen shold.
Still crying out alas and welaway,
Are you so hard of heart that you nought feare?
And no man could her furious course then stay,
Till Priamus the King thereof did heare:
Who that she might no more such crying make
About the Towne, he did her cause to take,
And being bound with chaines in prison cast,
Where she remain'd long time in miserie,
(And no man for her words and counsell past,
But liued all in great securitie:)
Where I will let her lye to weepe and mourne,
And to the Greekes my stile againe retourne.
The most vnhappy time being come, and while
That fortune wild the Troyans to be glad,
And with dissembling face on them did smile,
For which great ioy and triumph then they made:
Supposing that all things would fall out weele,
Not thinking on the turning of the wheele
Of her that is as wavering as the clocke,
And when men trust her most will turne aside,
And sodainly vnto them giue a mocke,
For in deceit she hath her onely pride:
And loues to hide her beauty vnder cloud,
Against whose might ther's no man can him shroud
For when she fawnes, she's least to trust vpon,
For in her smile the Troyans little thought,
That she pretended their confusion,
And by that means which they as then had sought:
For they suppos'd of that to be secure
Which they desir'd, & should the Greeks procure
To yeeld vnto their wills and not resist,
Supposing by that thing by Paris done,
They should be forst to doe what ere they list.
But when report thereof abroad did runne,
And tydings vnto Menelaus was brought,
Of all the wrongs gainst him by Troyans wrought.
Whil'st he with Nestor did at Pirrha stay,
Where he receaued newes most certainly
What they had done in th' Island Citheray,
And what exceeding rage and tyranny,
They did vpon his men there execute,
As also of th' assault and hot pursute
That on the Greekes they made that fled away,
And how they spar'd no man nor woman-kind,
But killed some, and tooke the rest as pray,
And all the gold and treasure they could find:
And when he heard how they had tane his wife,
Whome he did loue as dearely as his life,
And more, if more might be, a thousand fold,
His face did looke with pale and deadly hue,
And therewithall his heart did wax so cold
With sorrow which therein did still renue:
That with much griefe being cast into a sound,
Like sencelesse corps he fell vnto the ground,
And could vpon his feet no longer stand:
Which when Duke Nestor mark't, & saw him striue
Twixt life and death, he tooke him by the hand,
And speedilie did him againe reviue:
Wherewith he sigh'd and said, now woe is me,
That of my wife I should bereaued be,
Which was my onely ioy and my delight.
Come death I say and with thy cruell dart,
(Sith fortune hath to me done this despight)
In pieces twaine now cleaue my wofull heart:
For I cannot indure that Helena
My Queene should thus frō me be borne away.
Farewell my ioy, farewell my chiefest blisse,
Now strangers haue thee in possession,
And I the thing I loue do so much do misse,
And must endure't with extreame passion:
Would God I knew how that they doe intreat
My Helena, that was to me so sweet.
Now thou art gone the thought of thee me slayth,
And I must liue in sorrow, griefe, and woe,
Expecting still my end by cruell death.
And therewithall he said, that he would goe
To Sparta, therein comfortlesse alone,
His great & grievous losse to waile and mone.
But Nestor would not leaue his company,
But went with him for consolation,
By all meanes seeking how to pacifie
His mind; and hauing great compassion
On his distresse, did make no longer stay,
But did him to his Country thence convay.
And being there arriu'd with woefull heart,
By letters sent in post to euery place,
He did vnto his brethren twaine impart,
His great mischance, and sad, and woefull case:
Desiring them to come to him with speed,
To aid him with their counsell in his need.
And first to King Agamemnon did write,
And to King Castor and King Pollux send,
Desiring them with all the speed they might,
In his distresse their ayd to him to lend:
And when they came and saw his countnance dead,
Like to a man with thought halfe murthered,
They could not chuse but for his sorrow grieue,
And by perswasions sought the same to ease,
But when they saw they could it not remoue
Out of his mind, nor him no whit appease:
King Agamemnon wisely gan to speake,
And in these words his mind to him did breake;
Brother (said he) what woe, what heauinesse,
What deadly griefe doth thus torment your mind,
And as it seemes your sences all oppresse
So furiouslie; and we no case can find,
You should do thus? but grant it to be true,
That cause for to be grieu'd is giuen you:
Yet you should be so arm'd with providence,
That what so ere dislike were offered you,
You should thereat not seeme to take offence,
And make as though thereof you nothing knew:
For that a wise man in adversitie,
Should ioyfull countenance shew, and secretly
Conceiue in mind the thing that doth him grieue,
And priuilie within his breast inclose
His wrath and ire, that none might it perceiue,
Nor let it once be knowen vnto his foes:
For tis the counsell of the provident,
That when mans heart with furie thinks to rent,
He should not seeme to be possest with ire,
Till that he findeth fit occasion,
To kindle and reviue the burning fire
Of vengeance, when his foe thinks not thereon:
For griefe shew'd outwardlie, by proofe we find
Two things doth breed, which are of several kind;
First, it provokes thy friend to sigh full sore,
(For nature binds him to lament thy griefe)
And it doth cause thy foe reioyce the more,
(For he is glad when thou dost want reliefe:)
Wherefore when griefe most in thy heart doth lie,
Shew cheerefull face to crosse thine enemie.
And make as though thou dost esteeme at nought,
The thing which doth thee most torment and vex,
And evermore remaineth in thy thought,
Ye though it doth thee nere so much perplex:
And where thou hast most cause for to complaine,
There make best show, & ioyful countnance faine.
For into teares although thou should'st distill,
And never cease tormenting of thy mind,
Yea though thy selfe thou shouldest therewith kill,
Thou could'st but little ease and pleasure find:
For vengeance nere was tane, nor honor wonne,
By any thing that man that way hath done.
For though it lasteth long, it brings no gaine,
It's said the man that can dissemble wrong,
(Although it be with inward greete and paine)
Is subtill, and of valiant heart and strong:
And he that can be peaceable in smart,
Doth well declare he hath a noble heart.
For he that weepes like women in their rage,
And thinkes by words and teares to ease his paine,
His sorrow and his griefe shall nere asswage,
And by no meanes to honor shall attaine:
Let's not with words, but with our weapons fight,
And hold our tongs, & manlike try our might.
Words are but wind, and water tis we weepe,
And though the stormes & flouds of either two
Do multiply, and vs in sorrow keepe,
They do no good but still increase our woe:
And to our foes (when as that they do [...]e [...]e
That we doe make so sad and heauie [...]
It doth increase and multiply their ioy,
And giues them cause much more to laugh at vs;
Wherefore let not this sorrow thee annoy,
Which now doth seeme so to torment thee thus:
For it is said, the courage of a Knight
Is prou'd, when as with mischiefe and despight
He is not feard, nor in adversity
Doth not himselfe faint-heartedly submit
To any danger what so ere it be,
Nor doth impaire his honor any whit
Through foule despaire, but hopeth alwaies well,
And hath a mind as firme as any steele,
T'effect the thing that he doth take in hand,
And his desire at last to satisfie;
For this from me I pray you vnderstand,
That he which in himselfe hath fantasie
T'assaile his foe, and venture life and lim,
What ere befall or happeneth vnto him,
And takes the chance that vnto him is cast;
He commonly nere failes in victorie,
And hauing dangers all cleane over-past,
In fine obtaineth praise eternally:
And now tis time to speake in words but few,
Good brother mine your valour forth to shew,
To cheare your heart, and for to make you strong,
The forces of your foes for to withstand,
And to revenge your domages and wrong,
And we thereto will put our helping hand:
And all with one consent, and force, and might,
Assist you in your need t'obtaine your right.
And in despight of all that shall vs let,
Within the fields before the Towne of Troye
Will plant our siege, and there our tents vp set,
And ere we part will't vtterlie destroy,
Albeit as now I can appoint no day.
Therefore let vs with all the speed we may
Send messengers into the Grecian Land,
The Princes of the same to certifie
Of these your wrongs, & craue their helping hand
T'assist you, and the same to remedie:
And so full well revenge your selfe you may,
And this is all that I to you can say.
King Menelaus therewith somewhat appeas'd,
Began more cherefull countenance to make,
And with his heart and mind thereby was eas'd,
All outward griefe did presently forsake:
And seeing that by care he could't not mend,
To all his friends throughout the land did send.
And first his Kinne and allies he did moue,
By showing them what had chanced vnto him,
Desiring them of courtesie and loue,
His case as t'were their owne for to esteeme:
And with their powers assistants to him be,
To ayd him in his great extreamitie.
His letters seene and read, there did resort
Achilles, and Patroclus Princes stout,
Diomedes, and others to his Court:
Who having heard what things had fallen out,
Did all with one consent and will agree,
Vpon the King of Troye reveng'd to bee.
And in that case and enterprise refer'd
Themselues vnto the prudent government
Of valiant King Agamemnon, prefer'd
By them (with all their full and free consent)
To be the chiefe Commander of their host,
Provided at each severall Princes cost.
With faithfull vow and promise to maintaine
And follow warres, while life & meanes should last,
Against their foes triumphantly to gaine
Renowne and fame when vitall daies were past:
Thereof to leaue perpetuall memorie,
From age to age, to their posteritie.
But ere they did assemble all their men,
And bring them to the place by them assign'd,
Queene Helena had two valiant bretheren,
King Pollux and King Castor, grieu'd in mind
To thinke thereon, their ship did rig in hast,
And with the same to sea did hie them fast,
Accompanyed with many a valiant Knight,
In mind t'oretake the Troyans on the way,
And to recouer Helen by their might,
But Gods decree no mortall man can stay:
For ere that they three daies had sail'd along
The Grecian seas, the wind did blow so strong,
And such a darknesse rose within the skies,
That it did seeme as day had turn'd to night,
And therewithall so great a storme did rise,
That billows huge against the ship did smight:
And then a great and mighty clap of thunder,
Stroke down their masts, & broke thē cleane in sun­der.
And with the furious blasts of Eolus,
The waue so high did mount vnto the skie,
And made them swell so huge monsterous,
That every man made full account to die:
And after they had tossed too and fro,
Sometimes aloft, and then againe as lowe.
The waters greene and white so sore did rage,
And seem'd to boyle with furie of the wind,
That nothing could th'vnpiteous tempest swage,
Nor yet procure the Grecians ease in mind:
For what so ere resistance they would make,
At last the ship in many pieces brake.
And rent in twaine with great extreamity,
Whereby not one escapt, but all were drownd,
And in the raging Seas cast furiously,
And of them all not any one was found
To saue their liues, except the Brethren twaine,
Who as in Stories Poets of them faine,
The Gods did in the heavens deifie,
And in the skies did place them there to be
A starre in th'aire by name of Gemini,
And as the learned in Astronomie
Affirme, it is by Constellation,
Of Mercurie the house and mansion.
Which is both male and female in his kind,
The Eagle and the Dolphin in it rise,
And in the same iust three degrees we find,
The Dragons taile exalted is likewise:
In Man it's said to rule the armes and hand,
And mongst the signs the third in place doth stand.
Thus were these stout & valiant brethren twaine,
In heauen pla'st (if that we may belieue
The fables of the Poets fond and vaine)
Which earnest did the valiant Grecians grieue:
And was to them beginning of their woe,
And to the Brethren twaine their overthrow.

CHAP. VI.

How the Grecians assembled to be reuenged of the Troyans for rauishing of Helena.

ERe that mine Author Guido doth declare,
What Grecian power did gainst the Troyans goe;
It seemes he had a great and speciall care,
The forme and shape of everie Prince to shoe:
Both on the Greekes, and on the Troyans side,
The which while he amongst them did abide
In time of truce, beheld with great delight,
Omitting neither port nor seemelinesse,
Beautie, nor yet deformitie that might
Be seene in them, but as he doth confesse,
Hath made a true and right description,
Of everie one in his proportion.
And first he setteth downe Queene Helens shape,
As Dares hath describ'd the same at large,
Wherein no point thereof he doth escape,
But tels the truth his promise to discharge:
And saith, she had a scarre vpon her face,
And yet it did her beautie not disgrace.
He saith, King Agamemnon was a man
Of bodie strong and good proportion,
Of stature tall, of colour pale and wan,
And flegmaticke of his complexion:
Vnquiet, and impatient in his brest,
Eschewing, and refusing ease and rest.
So much to war and strife his mind he gaue,
And yet he was to vertue whollie bent,
And therewithall a Prince most wise and graue,
Learned, discreet, and passing eloquent:
Whereby amongst the Grecian Princes all,
He was elected to be Generall.
King Menelaus was valiant, stout, and strong,
Of courage, and of heart victorious,
His stature middle-siz'd, twixt short and long,
Of good proportion, and desirous
Vnquietlie to liue in warre and strife,
Then to possesse great wealth with quiet life.
Achilles was of stature huge, and tall,
With sholders broad, & breast both big & square,
Faire faced, and right seemely therewithall,
And in each part the like proportion bare;
With eies most great, deepe, broad, & very quicke,
And a browne haire that curl'd, it was so thicke.
In Armes most fierce and right couragious,
And did in strength the Grecians all surmount,
And yet of looke was passing amorous:
Of liberall mind, and made so small account
To giue large gifts, and royally to spend,
That all men for the same did him commend.
The valiant Grecian Tantalus was strong,
Of bodie huge, and good proportion,
Indifferent grosse, and neither short nor long,
Of sanguine colour and complexion:
Vnsteadfast ey'd, and wavering in his head,
Abhorring strife whereas he saw no need.
Of word and promise true what so ere he made,
And never any quarrell tooke in hand,
Vnlesse that he a good occasion had:
And when he knew and well did vnderstand,
His cause to be both lawfull, iust and right,
Then would he shew himselfe a valiant Knight.
Oileus Aiax was of bodie great,
And in apparell rich and curious,
Whereon his heart and mind was onely set,
And yet of shape both huge and monstrous,
With armes so great, & sholders broad & square,
And waied so much, no horse could well him bare.
His stature it was high and very tall,
Vnweldy, and vnseemely to behold,
Of speach he was both rude and rusticall,
And car'd not how his mind he did vnfold:
And though to ayd the Greeks he did his part,
Yet was he but a coward in his heart.
Another Aiax (surnamed Telamon)
There was, a man that learning did adore,
Of bodie straight and faire complexion,
His haire cole blacke, and turning vp before:
Who did so much in eloquence abound,
That in his time the like could not be found.
In Musicke sweet his time most part he spent,
Wherein he tooke such pleasure and delight,
That he did his owne instruments invent,
And yet he was a braue and valiant Knight:
And one that hated pride and flattery,
With honor, seeking fame and victory.
Vlisses was a Prince of power and might,
That liued in great fame and royalty,
And yet he tooke great pleasure and delight,
To vse all kind of fraud and subtilty:
Of double, hollow, deepe dissembling heart,
And well could play a perfect lyers part.
With face that made a [...]hew cleane void of guile,
And words full smooth whē nothing lesse he ment,
Much giuen to mirth, yet sieldome seene to smile,
In counsell he was graue and provident;
Right eloquent in speech, and did with speed
Full often aid the Greekes in time of need.
Diomedes was valiant, fierce, and tall,
Of countnance proud, and passing strong & bold,
Broad breasted, & most sterne of looks withall,
Deceitfull, and his promise nere would hold:
So hasty that his hand he could not stay,
But strike he must who ere stood in the way,
If once to wrath and anger he was bent;
Desiring strife, still shunning rest and peace,
Vnto his servants most impatient,
And never frō contentious thoughts would cease:
But quarrell still (though t'were but for a straw)
And held his will and pleasure for a law.
In lecherie his whole delight he plast,
And was so giuen thereto, that where so ere
He did become, on loue his mind he cast,
And from the same could by no meanes forbeare:
But spent therein full many a night and day,
Which at the last procur'd his owne decay.
Duke Nestor was of stature somewhat tall,
And well composde of members in each part,
Crooke sholdered, his middle very small,
Exceeding strong of hands, and valiant heart:
In counsell wise, well learnd, and politicke,
And yet of nature was so cholericke;
That neither friend nor foe he could refraine,
He was so given to melancholie,
And would with no man flatter nor yet fame,
Nor for the time his anger mollifie;
Which nere the lesse but little space did last,
For as it lightly came it lightly past.
Prothesalus was gallant, fresh, and gay,
Of seemly shape, and beautie passing rare,
Wherein no man surpast him as they say;
Quicke sprighted, light, of courage passing rare,
Exceeding swift, and therewithall most strong,
And heart so fierce that he would take no wrong.
The valiant Grecian cald Neptolemus,
That had his haire as blacke as any Iet,
Was of proportion made right curious,
With eyes that were exceeding broad and great:
His breast most large, & somewhat stooping back,
And vsed much to stammer when he spake.
An Orator he was but turbulent,
And willingly would plead in any cause,
For that he was of nature wholly bent
To studie, and to learne the Grecian lawes:
Where in he tooke great pleasure and delight,
And yet he was a most couragious Knight.
Pallamides King Naulus Son was strong,
Of valiant heart and courage passing great,
Of face most faire, of body leane and long,
And fierce vpon his enemie to set:
Familiar, courteous, wise, and tractable,
In all his actions iust and laudable.
Of great account, and onely had the name
For bounty and for liberality,
Amongst the Grecians all, which caus'd his fame
To spread abroad into each Country:
Whereby in fine great honor he obtain'd,
And for the same perpetuall praises gain'd.
The worthy Polidamus was so fat,
And big of body, bellie, and of bone,
And so vnweldy that most part he sat,
And could not well sustaine himselfe alone:
Exceeding proud of heart, and very sad,
And sodaine or else nere shewd countnance glad▪
King Machaons stature was indifferent,
Twixt short and long, his forehead broad & hie,
Most prowd and fierce, to choller wholly bent,
And so much giuen vnto jmpatiencie;
That nothing but revenge his mind would plea [...]
Whereby he sieldome slept or tooke his ease.
Next after these of Cresida he tels,
But here my pen is dasht, for long agoe,
My Maister Chawcer that each one excels
In Rethoricke, her shape so well did shoe;
And thereof such a fine discourse doth make,
That follie t'were for me to vndertake
To write thereof, or adde vnto the same;
As knowing well that when that I haue done,
I shall deserue no praise but rather blame,
And yet I can the same by no meanes shun:
For if I write it not I must truth leaue,
And of the truth the Historie bereaue.
If I presume to slip and let it goe,
And not as Guido doth write orderlie,
Or vndertake the very same to shoe,
Which Chawcer hath declar'd so learnedly:
Full sure I am therein to make offence,
Either by folly, or by negligence
And so am plung'd twixt two extremities,
Great cause I haue to find fault and dislike
Of Atropos, that mongst her cruelties,
Durst with her knife the thread in sunder strike
Of Chawcers life, chiefe Poet of Britaine,
That first did cause to flourish and to raine
The golden drops of Rethoricke so sweet
Mongst English-men, their speech to clarifie,
And their dull wits with Eloquence to whet.
(But who liues neare so long at last shall die.)
I must be forst his ayd herein to craue,
And read his booke, to see if I may haue
Some words of Art from thence to place with mine,
Which are so rude, so bare, so plaine, and course,
For as the Ruby red that bright doth shine,
Set in a Copper Ring, is nere the worse,
But beautified the more, so is his phrase
When it's compar'd with wrighters of our daies.
It's knowne so well, and is so excellent,
That tis in vaine the same mongst ours to set,
For all our paine is as it were misspent,
When as wee seeke his stile to counterfet:
Well may we do't on meere presumption,
But when al's done there's no comparison.
Yet for all this I must it not deny,
(Craving excuse) but as I first began,
Proceed to end the Troian History,
And doe the best that possibly I can
T'effect the same; and now of Cresida
I will declare her beauty as I may.
Yet must I vnder Chawcers whings still hover,
And plainely tell that Rethoricke I haue none,
Nor eloquence my learning to discouer,
But letting all curiositie alone,
(As Bayard blind doth boldly giue the venter,
And never feares what perill he doth enter.)
To show my simple skill I will not spare,
And thereby some prospect vnto you giue
Of Colchos daughters beauty passing rare,
That while she in this earthly mould did liue,
Was held to be an excellent faire creature
For forme of face, and comlinesse of feature.
Wherein none did surpasse her in her daies,
Her stature and proportion was but small,
Her haire that shind like Phoebus glistring raies
In comly wise did on her shoulders fall:
And at her backe in tresses hung behind
Which oft she did't with golden hearlace bind.
And but that both her eye-browes ioynd in one,
You could no fault at all in her espie,
And that was all her imperfection,
To speake of her faire, cleare, and rowling eye,
Whose glistring beams was of such force & might
And from the same did cast such peircing light,
That whosoere them earnestly beheld,
Could not withstand their power, but must confesse
Their extreame beauty had them forst to yeild
Vnto her loue, and with her seemelinesse
She was indowed with great sobriety,
Well spoken, wise, and full of modestie,
And therewithall gentle and tractable,
And yet my Author Guydo plaine doth wright,
That in her loue she was too variable,
And tooke too great a pleasure and delight,
To giue her mind vnto vnstedfastnesse,
And womanly to all new fanglenesse.
Lastly he sayth how that the Percian King
Came to the Greeks, with many a worthy Knight,
And with him diuers thousands more did bring
To succour them with all his power and might:
And that he was of body tall and long,
Yet very fat, and therewithall most strong.
Red haire and beard, and deepe and fiery eyes,
And in his face great store of warts he had,
His countnance sterne, and often times would rise
Into such rage that he did seeme halfe mad,
Which did in him so deepe jmpression take,
That therewithall his body it would shake.
Thus much I find that Dares doth declare
Of all the Grecians shapes and personages.
But of the Troians he no paines doth spare,
In cerious wise at large them to expresse;
Omitting none, as you may well behold,
The Chapter next ensuing doth vnfold.

CHAP. VII.

¶ The description of Priam and his sonnes, and daugh­ters, and of the arriuall of the Greeks, at the Temple of Diana.

ANd first he sheweth how King Priamus
Of body was both slender, tall, and strong,
Of countenance and looke right gratious,
Delighting much in musicke and in song,
And therewithall was most desirous
To heare such ditties as were amorous.
A seemely Prince and of great hardines,
Cleane void of feare, abhorring flattery,
And with low voyce his speech he did expresse,
Of word most true much given to equitie,
And never did refuse to any wight,
To doe him vpright justice, law, and right.
No favor nor no loue made him decline,
Nor leane vnto the greatest or the least,
His manner was full sone in morne to dine,
And of all Kings he was the worthiest.
One that esteem'd each worthy Knight and trew
Or any valiant souldier that he knew.
On whom he did bestow great store of gold,
And did aduance them vnto dignitie.
And spared not his treasure to vnfold
Mongst them, to show his magnanimitie.
And by that meanes in such wise with them dealt,
That every one his bounty largely felt.
Of many sonnes he had, the eldest was
Hector, the famous Prince and worthy Knight
Who all the world in valor did surpasse,
Such was his courage, hardinesse, and might:
The very root and spring of Chivalry,
As ancient Histories doe certifie.
And therewithall so sober, wise, and sad,
Courteous, demure, and full of gentlenesse,
That in his time no Prince more honor had,
And truth to say, he did deserue no lesse.
Forvertue did so much in him abound,
That throughout all the world he was renownd.
Of flesh and bones he was so well compact,
And rightly formed in proportion,
And every lim so perfect and exact,
That no defect has found in any one.
Huge made he was, and of just hight & length
Thereto compleat and of surpassing strength.
Liuely, well breathed, and able to sustaine
Against his foe a long and furious fight.
So that no mortall man could ere attaine
Vnto the fame of that most valiant Knight,
For his surpassing strength and courage bold,
If vnto him his due ascribe I should.
Wherewith he was so wise and so discreet,
And louely, (though a Prince of high degree.)
To rich and poore that met him in the street,
That all men prais'd his great humilitie.
A Prince that vs'd few words to any one,
And shew'd good countenance vnto every one.
That all men joyed when as they him beheld,
Vnto his Troian Subiects he was kind:
But when as he once entred in the field;
His foes did him a furious Lyon find.
So valiantly he could himselfe maintaine,
And by his might their forces all sustaine.
No man was euer able to endure
The moile of the paine that he would take:
(For as the story plainely doth assure,
And thereof doth a large relation make;)
He neare had feare, nor did in fighting faile,
Nor with faint heart his enemies assaile.
Of all the valiant Knights that ever were,
He was the best, for vertue, prowesse, and might,
And did the prize of honor from them beare,
The which he might by valor claime of right.
For none could euer equall him therein,
Since that this earthly globe did first begin.
In whom Dame nature did so much prevaile,
And like a skilfull workeman fashioned
His mold, that not one thing did in him faile
But was compleat, saue that he stammered.
But had no other imperfection,
And was of sanguine pure complexion.
His brethren Deiphobus and Helenus,
In each respect and every property,
Were both so like vnto King Priamus,
That twixt them three was no diversitie,
Except in age, he old, they young and light,
The first, he was a strong and valiant Knight,
And in his warres did many a valiant deed:
But Helenus to learning wholy bent,
Of feates of armes and prowesse tooke no heed,
But in all Arts became so excellent,
And had such knowledge in Astronomy,
That he could tell what future things should be.
Of Troilus to speake, it is most sure
There never liu'd a more couragious Knight:
Nor likelier in Armes for to indure,
As hauing therein pla'st his whole delight.
Of body well compact, of stature tall,
Young, lustly, fresh, and hardy therewithall.
So valiant, strong, and stout a Champion,
That equall vnto him neare any was,
For none with him could make comparison,
So much he did in worthines surpasse.
For which his great and most exceeding might,
He was a second Hector cal'd by right.
He did behaue himselfe so valiantly
In that great warre against his enemies.
In loue he did perseuere constantly,
And was therein most secret, firme, and wise.
Of face most faire, and of a pleasant cheare,
Wherein no alteration did appeare.
He was so firme and constant in his heart,
And therewithall so loving and so kind,
That nothing could disswade nor make him start
From that which he had once decreed in mind.
So true he was in word, and so vpright,
And to his foes he was so sterne a Knight
And fierce, that they could not his force withstand,
Vnto the Greeks it was confusion.
When as he held his bloody sword in hand,
And to the Troians their protection.
For that his Knight-hood was of such account,
That no man might in valor him surmount.
Thogh al the world they shold haue sought throgh­out
What [...]hall I say (to make his praises last)
More then I haue? but that amongst the rout
Of Greeks and Troians all, none him surpast,
Vnlesse it were his jnvinsible brother
Hector alone, and neuer any other.
King Priamus sonne cal'd Paris, was a Knight
So beautifull of flesh and blood to see,
That for to yeild to him his due and right,
I must confesse none was so faire as he.
Whose crisping looks that shin'd like golden wier,
Made all men his great beautie much admire.
His sole delight was shooting in a bow,
And hunting in the woods to chase wild deare,
And did therein such skill and cunning show,
That he all Archers past that euer were.
And was a Knight of great renowne and fame,
Whose valiant deeds did well approue the same.
Aeneas that King Priams daughter had,
Was light of lims, and ey [...]d bright and cleare,
Well brested, and of good proportion made:
Sterne of his looke, yet glad in port and cheare,
And in the Towne of Troy held great estate,
In all his actions wise and temperate.
A man surpassing in great eloquence,
And did so much his mind to study giue,
That he thereby attaind great sapience,
And of all those that in the Towne did liue.
In lands and goods he did them all surpasse,
Such and so great his gold and treasure was.
Anthenor was a slender man and tall,
Right circumspect, and of good gouernment:
Discreet, and wise, and elopuent withall,
Copious in words, and one that much time spent
To iest when as he was in companie,
So driely that no man could it espie,
And therewith held his countenance so well,
That every man receiued great content
To heare him speake, and prety iests to tell,
When he was pleasant and in meriment:
For though that he most commonly was sad,
Yet in his speech some iest he alwaies had.
His sonne cal'd Polidamus was most strong
Of person, and of shape in each degree,
Like to his Father tall, and somewhat long,
Gentle and true, and soone would moved be
To anger, though he kept it covertly,
And yet it would be gon full suddainly.
King Merdon was large brested, huge and tall,
Vpright and well compact of bone and l [...]m,
And of so good proportion therewithall,
That none therein might well compare with him▪
His haire it was as yellow as the gold,
And finely curld, most pleasant to behold:
Demure and still, and kind to euery one,
And passing strong all actions to assay,
Ne're vsing rigor vnto any one.
Delighting much in pleasure, sport, and play,
And one that wondrous feates in Armes achieu'd
While he amongst the Troian Princes liu'd.
Queene Hecuba was faire, but pale and wan,
In members and proportion strongly made:
Enclining more vnto the shape of man
Then woman, such a manly corps she had.
Right vertuous, wise, discreet, and womanly,
And did behaue her selfe most prudently
In all her actions vnto every wight.
In jesture mild, demure in countenance:
And while she liu'd did take a great delight,
Her servants, and her favorites t'aduance.
Vnto the poore most pittifull and kind,
Bestowing almes with glad and liberall mind.
Andr [...]macha Prince Hectors faithfull wife,
In shape was like to Hecuba his Mother,
And was so chast and vertuous all her life,
That in her time there was not such another.
And did in good behauiour much delight,
Her stature tall, her breast round, faire, and white.
With ruddy cheeks, not over coloured,
And peircing eyes most beautifull and cleare,
Her haire like gold, her lips were soft and red,
And alwaies did of colour fresh appeare,
Wherewith she had a countenance right sweet,
And poore and rich in friendly wise would greet.
And gaue good words to all and every one,
Perferring all poore suters as she might,
And by her will there did not any one
With heauy heart depart out of her sight.
And every man whatsoere, stood in need
Of ayd from her that was sure thereof to speed.
To them that had committed an offence,
She was so giuen vnto compassion,
That gladly with all care and diligence,
She got their pardon and remission.
Such was her care her Subiects to preserue,
And of each one good words and praise deserue.
Cassandra was a Princesse beautifull,
And did in body good proportion beare,
Her colour white, her countenance bashfull,
And in her face great store of warts there were,
Whose onely ioy and chiefe felicitie,
Was chast to liue in pure virginitie.
And vertuously shu [...]'d imperfections,
Which naturally doe raigne in women kind,
And by leauing of all bad occasions,
She did so much on learning set her mind:
That reading Bookes was her felicitie,
But most of all to learne Astronomie.
A Prophetesse she was, and could foretell
What future things should happen and would be,
And therein while she liu'd did so excell,
That she was thought one of the Cybiles three
That liu'd on earth, whose fame so much surpast,
And shall doe while this mortall world doth la [...]t.
Of Polycene to speake it were in vaine,
Or to declare the great perfection
Of beauty wherevnto she did attaine,
And t'were in me a great presumption,
To seeke therein your minds to satisfie,
For it aboue my simple reach doth lie.
Sith nature in the framing of this ma [...]d
Vsd all her Art, and to selfe-will was bent,
And by all meanes she could devise, assaild
To make her beauty seeme most excellent,
And to her selfe sayd in her proud conceit,
Behold and see my workmanship so great.
For as the sonne aboue the clouds in skie
Shewes passing cleare; so is it in my might
My worke to adore and beautifie to th'eye,
By mixing of like faire and white,
With ruddy rose in such equallity,
That no excesse in them you may descrie.
And for to proue my saying to be true,
A pattern of my Art you may behold
In Polican, which if you marke and view,
I dare affirme is not to be controld.
Whom I must say, and know it very well,
In beauty doth all others much excell.
Thus did this Dame, of her most proudly say,
And sure she did not lie, for true it was,
Her beauty full as much, as doth the day
Excell the night, all others did surpasse.
Her body straight, and middle fine and small,
Her hands exceeding white, her stature tall.
And every other member whatsoere,
With due proportion was so fashioned;
That great simplicitie in me it were,
(That am of Rethorick vnfurnished)
Her beawty to describe, for sure t'was much,
And truth to say, there ne're was any such.
And therefore thinke it best to make an end
With her, for that mine Author saith no more
Concerning this: But doth his purpose bend
To show their Knightly valor and their power,
While that the siedge did last, as you shall find
In this discourse; and thus he tels his mind:
WHen cold and shiuering winter gan decline,
And drew his frostie face from off the groūd,
Which made each tree & flower to mourne & whine,
When they in th'aire so cold: no comfort found,
When Titan had cleane passed Aquarie,
And Pisces, in the Moneth of Februarie,
And to the horned Ram his course did bend,
And on the mountaine tops his beames did smite,
And to each plant and tree did vigor send,
And caus'd the flakes of snow that are so white
To melt, and made the water to distill
Downe from the same, the valleys low to fill.
When th' [...]ce which then vpon the Rivers flow'd
Dissolved and with heate began to melt,
And with their streames the medowes overflow'd,
And to each ditch and pit their largesse dealt.
When as the most delightfull time of spring,
With new fresh greene did comfort every thing,
By Phoebus gentle heate and temperature,
Which then assends the sphere celestiall,
When March to Trees and hedges did procure
[...] [...]lossomes, and th'equinoxiall,
[...]hen as both day and night are of a length,)
Was halllowed and began to show his strength.
At that same season sweet and amorous,
The Greeks to show their puissant force and might,
(As they that were of hearts couragious,)
Assembled many a stout and hardy Knight
In Athens, where a Navy huge they had,
And there their preparations all were made
To sayle to Troy, whose number was so great
That never since this fatall world began,
So many Knights at once were knowne to meet,
Nor hath it ere been seene by any man,
That such a Navy was assembled,
As by the valiant Greeks as then was led.
Whereof to shew and make description
What every Prince vnto the same did bring,
My Author sayth, that King Agamemnon
A hundred ships with men and every thing
That needfull was, prepared at his cost,
To joyne with that most huge and famous host.
King Menelaus the causer of that fleet,
From Sparta brought threescore great ships and tall,
Prothenor and King Archelaus there met
With fiftie ships, whereof some great, some small.
From Sithmene with Duke Achedaphus,
Came threescore ships, and with him Helenus.
The Kings Epistraphus and Thedaus,
Together brought full fiftie ships compleat:
King Telemon Aiax and Amphimachus,
Duke Theseus and Earle Dorion, with a great
And puissant Duke that was by name cald Tentar,
With that same fleet their fiftie ships did venter.
Nestor a Duke of furious mind and thought,
Whose choller was not easie to appease,
Full fiftie ships from Piron with him brought:
King Thoas, and the King of Dianes,
A hundred ships had in their companie,
Well fraught with Knights of great activitie.
And Thelamon surnamed Pel [...]
Had 36 ships in his leading,
King Polidete and stout Amphimacus
Did thirtie ships from Calidonia bring,
King Merdon and Idameus from Creet,
Fourscore good ships had with them in that fleet
Vlisses King of Thracia with him had
Fiftie faire ships well furnished with men;
Duke Meleus and Prothecatus both made
Provision of great ships in number ten.
And from the Isle of Philiarcha, strong
Prothesilaus brought 50 ships along.
Machon and his brother Polidrus,
Twenty two ships did bring well furnished
From Trincico and out of Phicius;
Achilles did in his conduct then lead
Iust Fiftie ships; and from th'isle Rhodomus
Came twenty ships with King Thelapobus.
And with a valiant Duke cald Antipus,
From Hesida Eleaven ships there came
In company of Duke Amphimachus,
That partner was in furnishing the same.
Polibethe [...] the stout and valiant King,
Did fiftie ships from Recha with him bring.
And Duke Lifuisus bare him company,
Diomedes vnto this army brought
Fowerscore great ships out of Caledony,
And with him came two Knights that honor sought,
The one of them they did Thelemus call,
The other was the mighty Duriall.
And with the valiant Knight Poliphebus,
Came seauen ships well rigd and furnished,
And in that puissant fleet King Phineus,
Eleauen ships at his command then led,
Prothoyelus of Demenesa King,
Did fiftie ships with him to Athens bring.
King Carpenor from fertile Capadie
With fiftie ships in likewise thither came;
King Tricorius from his countrie
Cald Borsa, to win honor great and fame,
wenty two ships vnto that fleete did bring
Well furnished with men, and every thing.
And many ships more in that fleet there were,
Then Guydo in his Booke doth mention,
(For that in honors works it doth appeare,
Whereas he seemes to make description
Of all the Grecians ships) they were so many
Ahat ne're the like fleet had been seen of any.
Accounting those that with Palamides
Came to their ayd, the number to augment,
Which being ready their to put to Seas,
And to the Troians full destruction bent:
With many a valiant Lord, Earle, Duke, & King,
In Athens where they were assembling.
King Agamemnon generall of all
That fleete, a Prince discreet and very wise,
When as his charge to mind he gan to call,
Did study how he might best way devise,
In that most cerious businesse to proceed,
With honor as they fully had decreed.
Esteeming it a point of wisedome great
To foresee all with care and diligence,
Their enterprise that nothing might it let,
Nor hinder their determined pretence:
That as with honor they began the same,
It might so end to their eternall fame.
Least that through hast and misadvisednesse
They might oreshoot themselues and be deceiu'd,
And by orewhelming pride and wilfullnesse,
Of their conceiued glory be bereau'd.
He caused all the Lords and Princes great
Which in the hoast together then were met,
To hold a counsell with him in the field
Without the Towne of Athens, where each one
His reasons and his arguments might yeild
About their warres, as then in question:
And when they all together did appeare,
He spake and sayd to them as you shall heare.
My Lords and Princes all whose worthines,
Is such and of so great account and fame,
That in good truth I cannot but confesse
The world is fild with glory of the same:
For without doubt the flower of Chivalry,
Is met together here in company.
For who ere saw so great a multitude
Of valiant Knights assembled at one time,
So young, so fresh, and all so well indued
With courage bold, and in the very prime
Of Youth, as we amongst vs can afford,
And are together come with one accord.
So that if Fortune be not to contrary
In this same warre by vs now tane in hand,
And that the Gods cause vs not to miscarry,
And our pretence of purpose doe withstand:
We doubt not but great honor we shall gaine,
And of our foes the victory obtaine.
For sure I deeme him wholly without sence
And worse then mad, that dares oppose or set
Himselfe against our power to make defence,
Or any wayes our enterprise to let:
Or privily seekes to do to vs despight,
Or wrong▪ but we full soone would him [...]require.
For I could in this great assembly find
An hundred Knights and more, so fierce and bold,
And that doe beare so valerous a mind,
That with their forces onely durst and would
Adventure for to take this warre in hand,
And valiantly our enemies withstand.
Presume then what our forces ioynd in one
May doe, against the Troians to requite
The wrong that they of late to vs haue done,
For all you know how with their power and might,
They entred into Greece and bare away
King Menelaus deare wife, Queene Helena,
With many prisoners more, and all the gold
And treasure that in Cithera they might
Lay hold vpon, with reason then we should
Not onely seeke revenge for that despight:
But boldly warre against them vndertake,
And I suppose we shall them so awake,
That they shall feare hereafter while they liue
To be so bold, to dare to take in hand
The like attempt gainst vs, or seeme to giue
Occasion of dislike to Grecian land:
For which offence by them done to vs so late,
Our hearts within doe burne with deadly hate.
The heat whereof converts them to such ire,
That it renewes our rage and deadly paine,
And day by day so setteth vs on fire,
That we by no meanes longer can refraine,
But with all speed our mortall power advance,
For this our wrong on them to take vengeance,
As rite requires, and so iust cause allowes
Vs for to seeke revenge vpon our foe,
And therefore let vs now performe our vowes,
And valiantly with courage gainst them goe:
That wee such terror in their hearts may strike,
That they shall ever feare to doe the like
In time to come, if by our patience
We should as now with their great folly beare,
And overslip this notable offence,
For never yet wast knowne no man did heare
That Grecians wronged were in name or fame,
Or any thing done gainst them to their shame
But they acquit it to their enemies griefe,
And now to speake the truth in this respect,
I must in few words tell you and be briefe;
It stands not with our honors to neglect,
Or overslip the offence so lately past,
Least in our teeth heereafter it be cast:
And to our heires reproach it might be sayd,
Their Fathers durst not once reuenge their wrong▪
And of the Troians forces were afraid,
Which may not be, sith that we are so strong,
And all agreed with one consent and will,
Our whole desire in this point to fulfill.
And therewith of such puissant power and might,
That no man can nor may with vs compare,
Nor ever durst presume gainst vs to fight,
But they were sure in time the losse to beare.
But lately when the Troians made a venter,
And sodainly within our land did enter
Vnwares to vs, and with great spoile then went
To Troy againe, with their presumption:
I doubt they shall full hastily repent,
For it is knowne to all and every one,
How that of late the Greeks with number small,
Vpon the Troians for cibly did fall,
When as their King Laomedon was slaine,
(That father was vnto King Priamus,
Who now within the Towne of Troy doth raigne,)
Which at that time was cleane destroid by vs,
And all we found therein put to the sword,
And those to whom we mercy did afford,
And sau'd their liues, and from death them did spare
Yet liu'd in woe, (and may not be recur'd,)
Still mongst the Greeks in servit [...]de and care,
How cap they now gainst vs be a [...]hurd,
And hold vs fight (with all their chiualry,)
When as we haue so huge a company.
For if so small a number did prevaile
Gainst them as then, it's likely now we be
So many thousands, we shall no [...]es [...]a [...]
To win on them anoble victorie.
And yet I know the Troians do not spare
Their forces gainst our commings to prepare.
By all the meanes they can for to withstand
Vs and our power▪ if that they may indure,
Gainst vs to let our entry in their land,
And to that end their friends they doe procure,
In every place whereas they are a [...]ed,
Determining the vtmost to abide.
And therefore sith w'are like to find them prest
And ready to incounter in battaile,
My counsell is, and so I thinke it best,
That ere that we out of this Haven sayle,
(To th'end this iourney may be prosperous
And fall out well and happily for vs.)
To send to Delos Isle, which little space
From hence doth lie, so offer sacrifice
Vnto Apollo Patrone of this place,
And there to craue his answere and advise,
To know how we in this our warre shall speed,
If that you all thereto be so agreed.
This counsell given, their full conclusion
Was t'agree thereto, not one sayd nay,
Nor gainst the same made contradiction,
Determining as soone as ere they may
To do it with as much conuenient speed
As well they might, and therein did proceed.

CHAP. VIII.

¶ How Achi [...]es and Patroclus [...]e sent to Delos to re-ceiue answere from their God Apollo, to know how they should speed against the Troians.

WHen Agamemnon in such wise had sayd
His mind, as you haue hard the Greeks agre'd
With one consent, no time should be delaid▪
And presently amongst themselues decre'd,
Achilles and Patroclus both should goe,
That God Apollos answere for to know.
And with all speed they say [...]d to D [...] Isle,
Where hauing wind and weather prosperous,
They did arriue within a little while.
Which Iland as the stoty telleth vs,
Doth lie among the C [...]l [...]d [...] I sle [...], whereas
The say [...]ers f [...]nd so many rocks to p [...]se.
And in the Sea cald Hellespont doth stand,
Whereof to make a full description,
Like as mine Authour Guydo takes in hand;
I must aw [...]ile make some d [...]gression
And from the sequell of my [...] vary,
Although I meane therein not longe [...]y.
Within this Isle as I [...]ydore doth wright,
Latona did two goodly children beare
By Iupiter her friend (who in despight
Of Iuno when as they in discord weare,
Got hir with child, as Ovid testifies,
(If that we may giue credit to such lies.)
Whose names Apollo and Diana weare,
And after men therin did dedicate
A temple, that Apolloes name did beare,
And vnto to him was wholly consecrate:
Where from the time of the foundation,
They honored him with great devotion.
Because his beames that are so bright and cleare,
(Noes flood orepast which all the world oreflow'd,)
In that same Isle were first seene to appeare,
Diana likewise first her selfe there shew'd,
And to the world did giue her glistring light
With radiant streams, & horns most sharp & bright
Of which their apparition as men say,
This Isle that is thereby so great of fame
Was Delos cal'd by Grecians at that day,
And euer since that time hath borne that name.
Which word in Greeke doth signifie, to show
Or to appeare, as learned Clarkes well know.
And thus Apollo first was honoured,
And by the Greeks great reverence to him done,
Who with devotion likewise worshipped
His sister faire Diana cald the Moone,
That was by them a Goddesse held to bee,
And did in hunting take felicitie.
And so Diana faire that shin'd so bright,
And [...] in that Isle were worshipped,
(Because the first appearance of their light
Vpon that place by radiant streames was spread,)
And mongst the Pagans honord and esteem'd,
And great & mighty Gods by them were deem'd.
Vnto this Isle is given another name,
For by the Greeks it's cald Ortigia,
Cause Curlewes first were seene within the same,
For by the word Ortigias as they say,
The Grecians doe a Curlew vnderstand,
That first engendred were within that land.
Some doe Apollo Titan also name,
Who long before that he was made a sta [...]e,
So much and such high honor wan and same,
When he against great Iupiter made warre.
By other some likewise he's cald [...]
And many giue him name of Phito [...]s.
For that vnto his honor great, and glory,
He slew the serpent Phiton with his bow,
And of him wan a noble victory,
When they two fought here on the earth below.
For which his conquest Cupid did so rage,
That by no meames his wrath he could asswage,
But in dispight an arrow did discharge
At him, wherwtih he peirst cleane through his sid [...],
And in his heart did make a wound most large,
That caused him much sorrow to abide,
And of Phiton thus brought vnto his end,
Men say the Phitonesses doe descend.
Which women are that future fortunes tell,
And things foreshow; as we in scripture find,
That one did raise the ghost of Samuell,
At Saules desire to please his wicked mind,
And in this Church the which is now so old,
There was a mighty Image all of gold,
Wherein the Divell by his pollicie
A fowle infernall spirit placed had,
The which gaue answere with great subtiltie,
To each demand that vnto him was made,
And not the Image dumbe as people thought,
And by Illusion foolishly were taught,
And thus into great error they were brought.
And in the same did wilfully persever,
Addoring stocks and stones, and neuer sought
Vnto th'eternall God that liues for ever.
And in this wise Idolatrie began,
And through the world was vsd by sinfull man.
Whereof I meane a true discourse to make,
And show how long it did mongst men remaine.
And when they left and did the same forsake,
The holy scripture tels and showes vs plaine,
That at the birth of Christ our Saviour,
All Images (which God doth so abhorre.)
Downe from their Altars fell and brake in [...]under,
And they were then esteem'd as things of nought,
Which moved man vnto no little wonder,
For when for Christ King Herod strictly sought,
And cruelly by persecution
Brought many Children to destruction,
An Angell in a vision did appeare
To Ioseph as he slept, and bad him hast
And into Aegypt Christ and Mary beare,
Till Herods cruell wrath was overpast:
And when as Christ in Aegipt entered,
The Images in pieces shiuered,
And suddenly did fall vnto the ground,
As holy scripture doth vs certifie,
And Esay long before as it is found,
Fore-showed in his ancient Prophesie.
That when as Christ in Aegypt should descend,
All worshipping of Images should end.
But as the Iewish histories doe say,
Ismael, Abrahams bastard Son should be,
The first that made an Image all of clay
With his owne hands, and vs'd Idolatrie.
And Heathens sayd, Promotheus did invent
An Image first with full and sole intent
To worship it, and vse thereof did bring
Mongst men on earth, which after did increase,
For Sinulachrum signifies no thing,
But onely a similitude t'expresse
The forme of men, and doth the likenes beare
Of them, when as vpon the earth they were.
And by that meanes and wicked fond devise,
The Heathens did adore the shapes of men,
And to them vsd to pray and sacrifice.
Some doe affirme King Belus first began
Within his land t'erect Idolatrie,
As all the Assirian Histories specifie.
And after his sonne Ninus for his sake,
Mou'd therevnto by great affection,
Did of pure gold his Fathers Image make;
Whereto with foolish fond devotion
And ignorance, he offered sacrifice,
And vnto it did pray in Pay-nim wise.
And not content to do't himselfe alone,
Commandement gaue throughout all Babilon,
And all Th'assirian land, that every one
Should honor him as God, and call vpon
His name, and say, that he was Deified,
Which of no man in time durst be deni'd.
And not long after that, within a while
A fowle infernall spirit therein crept,
Who seeking man by all meanes to beguile,
In such an error blind the people kept:
That whatsoere of him they sought to know
Or aske, he did it plainly to them show,
And answere made vnto each mans demand,
Whereby in fine through all that countrie
The people did obay to his command.
And offring vnto God great iniurie,
Still more and more did into error fall:
This Image Belus, and some Bell did call.
Some Belphegod and some God Bala [...],
But most of all the people commonly
The name of Belzebub did giue to him,
Of Bell and Zebub which doth signifie
The God of Flies, and by this meane [...] we find
Idolatry crept in amongst man-kind.
For some vpon old Saturne vsd to call,
(Who while he liu'd on earth was King of Creet,)
And did esteeme him to be principall
Of all the Gods, and from the Planet great,
That hath so large a circle in the heauen,
(As Poets faine) that name to him was giuen.
This Saturne by his skill did well perceiue,
(For that he could of future things foretell)
That he a sonne by Iuno should conceiue,
That our of Creet by force should him expell:
When he did once attaine to perfect age,
Which made him fall into so great a rage;
That to prevent the mischiefe as he thought,
When it was borne, he did expresly will
His wife that it to him should straight be brought.
But she in doubt and feare he would it kill,
In stead thereof a stone vnto him gaue,
And so her silly infants life did saue.
Which stone with over great melancholly,
(Supposing it indeed to be his child,)
He did deuoure and eat vp gredily,
And so for all his skill he was beguild.
Three sonnes he had as stories witnes beare,
Who Iupiter, Neptune, and Pluto were;
And but one daughter Iuno cal'd by name,
The eldest sonne all men did most esteeme,
(Cald Iupiter) attain'd to so great fame,
For of him all the world so well did deeme,
That they cald him the God of fier and aire,
As being Saturnes eldest sonne an heire.
The Paynims did likewise great honour beare
To Mars, whom they the God of battailes call,
And also to Apollo bright and cleare
The cherisher of herbs, and trees, and all
The flowers and fruits that earth doth vs afford,
And (as I sayd) in Delos him adord.
Some vnto faire Dame Uenus vs'd to pray,
Esteeming her a Goddesse of great might,
That power hath t'asswage, and to delay
The fervent heat of pleasures fond delight;
And t'ease the hearts of lovers that complaine,
And are fast bound in Cupids fiery chaine.
As she whom they did thinke great rule to beare,
In every place throughout the world so wide,
Because there is no countrey whatsoere,
But hath her mighty force and power tride.
And next to her, to Mercury they praid,
Which is the God of Musicke as they said,
And of all Eloquen ceand Poetrie
Esteem'd to be the onely patterne:
Some others did vnto Diana crie
And cald for helpe, which is the forked Moone,
Which oftentimes is named Lucina bright,
And was esteem'd a Goddesse of great might,
And Lady of all mutabilitie:
Because she is addicted vnto change,
And wholy giuen to varietie,
Delighting much in woods and wells to range,
And so are those of such a quallity,
That vnder her haue their nativitie.
Their whole delight is in new fanglednesse,
And wauering still in their affections,
Do addict their minds vnto vnstedfastnesse,
And by this meames in sundry Regions
Idolatry began, and much increast,
And calling on the name of God, decreast.
For as I find the Moores or Morians
On Iubam long ador'd and worshipped:
The most Idolatrous Egiptians,
With great devotion Isis honoured,
Who was the first that vnto them did show
The manner how the land to till and sow,
And how they should their letters make and frame
Thereby to read and wright, for which th'extold
And did so highly magnifie her name,
That for a Goddesse great they did her hold.
And Iupiter was worshipped in Creet
Whereas he had his chiefe and soveraigne seat,
And did command with great authoritie.
And for his armes an Eagle volant bare,
And cald the God of all the earth and skie,
Who as the Poets faine and doe declare,
His kingdome large in three parts did deuide,
Whereof himselfe did rule the heauens wide.
The Seas to Neptunes government he gaue,
And to his brother Pluto did befall
The ruling of the earthly Globe to haue,
Whom Poets cal'd the Soveraigne God of Hell.
This Iupiter aforesayd Deified,
And throughout all the world so magnified,
In Creet to his perpetuall memorie,
They did for him a Tombe and Image make,
And on him never ceas'd to call and crie,
And wholly vnto him themselues betake.
The Latins with much care and diligence,
Vnto the Fawnes did vse great reuerence.
By them cald Gods, (if it be credible)
That liue in woods & groues most fresh & greene,
The which are sayd to be invisible,
And by no liuing creature can be seene.
The Romaines did adore one Querinus,
Who as they say was cald Romulus.
That first did build the walls about their towne,
And through his valor and great worthinesse,
From shepheards state attain'd to high renowne, seene
And as their stories saith deseru'd no lesse,
Whose speare head pitcht into the ground, was
To spring, & bring forth buds & blossoms green.
And for the vertues that in him were knowne,
The Knights of Roome that were of noble fame,
And had in countreis strange their valors showne,
Were vsually cald Querites of his name,
And so he was by Romaines Deified,
And in their Temples prais'd and glorified.
Th'athenians did vnto Minerva yeild
Great honor, likewise was Pallas nam'd,
Who in his hand did beare a christ all shield,
And as it's sayd, did in contention stand
Gainst Neptune, with her women on her sid [...],
And he with men, wherein they did abide
Long time to, know which of them two shold name
The noble towne of Athens, which as then
Was held to be a place of worthy fame.
Wherein there dwelt great store of learned men.
At last t'agree, each should some wonder show,
That every man might judge & plainely know
Which of them best might claime the same by right,
And straight out of the earth there did appeare
An Oliue tree (which Pallas by her might
Had caus'd to spring) that leaues & blossoms beare,
And show'd as faire, as pleasant, and as greene,
As ever any man in spring had seene.
Neptune to show his power & great command,
Did make a well of water to be seene,
And sodainely there presently to stand
In place, whereas nere any fore had bin.
The which when as Apollo great did see,
(Whom they had made their Iudge therein to bee)
That discord and contention to surcease,
Considering with him selfe that Oliue tree
Doth signifie loue, amitie, and peace.
And water doth foreshow the contrarie:
His sentence he forthwith for Pallas gaue,
That she to name the town should th'honor haue.
Who therevpon did make no long delay,
But with demure consideration
Did Athens call the same, that is to say,
An everlasting place, an habitation.
For wisedome there did first begin to florish,
And that same towne all learned men did norish.
Within the towne of Pauie they ador'd
Faire Citheron, and with great holinesse,
Her ayd and help continually implor'd,
(Of whom before I did somewhat expresse,)
And in the same with great solemnitie,
Her Image stood vpon an Altar hie.
All guilt and painted braue and curiously,
Where as she naked stood in water cleare,
With three faire Nimphes to beare her company,
That there to serue her still attentiue were.
And round about her flowers for delight,
Of colour azure, red, and Virgin white.
And on her head to beautifie't they set
Great store of Roses red, faire, fresh and sweet,
That placed were about a Chaplet,
And all her body downe vnto the feet
Annointed was with Balme, that did excell
For costlines, and oyles that sweet did smell.
And by her sat God Cupid with his bow,
Wherein he did an arrow alwayes beare,
Who for because he is blind, and doth not know
At whom to aime, oft shoots he knowes not where,
And yet lets fly, and cares not where he hits,
As one that were cleane void of sence and wits.
The Naxiens worshipt Bacchus God of wine,
And vnto him their offerings dayly made,
Whose liquor is most precious, pure, and fine,
To comfort hearts of men and make them glad:
And doth refresh the colour in the face,
And causeth then to speake with liuely grace.
And maketh men oft times themselues forget,
And without wisedome or discretion,
To vtter that they should keepe secret,
For where as wine once hath dominion,
It maketh them vnwarely disclose
Their secret thoughts and minds vnto their foes.
Some men that serue God Bacchus for a season,
Are many times so mad and without dread,
That they are like to men cleane void of reason,
And some of them so giddy in the head,
That being void of power, strength, and might,
They cannot guide themselues to stand vpright.
And yet will prate and prattle like a pie,
And till the force of wine in them is spent,
They looke with colour pale and daizled eye.
So women that to wine and drinke are bent,
Compared are to beasts vnreasonable,
And by men sayd to be detestable,
And farre vnfit to come in company,
When as they can no reason well aford,
Nor vse an honest kind of modestie,
And which is worse scant vtter any word.
And thus doth wine with men full often fare,
And causeth them to quarrell and to iarre.
And furiously when as there is no need
To fight and braule, but wisedome men forewarnes,
And wisheth them the force thereof to dread,
Bids them striue to shun such drunken charmes;
And by restraint their feeble braines to spare,
Ere they therewith be taken in a snare.
And like to Aspen leaues begin to shake,
As if they had a fever tertian.
Some others when their heads begin to ake,
And to a fever falls quotidian,
To them it seemes the house about doth turne,
And that the aire and Elements doe burne.
And when they haue lost vse of head and hand,
Are so much distraught of sence and wit,
As that they feare to drowne vpon the land,
They doe like vnto senceles creatures sit.
And drowfily begin to i [...]wne and gape,
And play with strawes, and counterfet the Ape.
And sit and nod with drowsie drunken head,
(Which in that case so heavy is and sad)
As if thereon they had a cap of lead.
And they whom Bacchus liquor hath so made,
And are of such a drunken disposition,
Are fittest men for his Religion.
Who it is sayd hath soveraigntie
Of hony, milke, and balme so precious,
But hath the most and greatest dignitie
Ore Grapes, and Vines. This God pernicious
Is also by the Vintners much esteem'd,
Because he is to them so good a friend.
The Lemicians vsed to relie vpon
Blacke Uulcan, whom the God of fier they call,
Who was a Smith by his profession,
That forg'd the thunder-bolts which vse to fall,
With huge and fearefull noyse downe from the skie,
And furiously from East to West doe flie.
This Uulcan married Venus, that so rare
Of beauty was, and held her for his wife
Long time, to whom a iealous mind he bare,
So that twixt them there arose a mortall strife,
And for that cause he watched her so nie,
That at the last he found her secretly
With Mars the God of warre, her valiant Knight
Layd closely dallying with her in a bed,
Whereat he did conceiue so great despight,
That to her shame her falult abroad he spread,
And therein did the Goddesse much abuse,
But God forbid that men should seeke t'accuse
Poore women for a matter that's so small,
For if they do such things of gentlenes,
They are therein for to be borne withall,
And let no man esteeme of them the lesse,
Least he in th'end to them grow odious,
As smotery Vulcan was for doing thus.
And yet mongst Paynims he was Deified,
But for that he so churlishly did let
Their pleasant sport when as he them espied,
Therefore I haue him last in order set
Among the Gods, that honoured were as then
Of jgnorant and supersticious men.
And thus this fowle Idolatrie began
As you heaue hard through false opinions,
And was continued long on earth by man,
Still erring in his fond affection:
Which is most false as scriptures plain do show,
And such as learned are full well do know.
For by the rule of holy writ we learne
How to despise those false opinions,
And all such superstitious to discerne,
Which are the Diuels meere jnventions:
And not long after that the world began,
By him put in the head of wicked man.
For when the Angels first created were,
He that of them was highest in degree,
(Of whom the Prophet Esay witnes bare,
And saith, such was his supreame dignitie.
That all the great and goodly Ceders greene
In Paradise, so faire were neuer seene.
Nor any Phirre nor Palme-tree could attaine
Vnto his hight, no more could any tree
What ere it was that stood within the plaine
Of Paradise, to him compared bee,
For beauty, and for comely feature,
For he surpast each other creature.)
When by his pride and great presumption,
He sayd he would be like to God on hie:
And in the North place his dominion,
He was cast downe from heauen suddenly:
And vnto his most great and fowle despight,
Bereaued cleane of Gods most glorious [...]ight.
And so confind into the pit of Hell,
With horror and with great confusion,
For ever there perpetually to dwell.
Of whom t'was said when he frō heaven was thrown
How didst thou fall oh morning starre so bright,
From mōgst the radiāt stones that cast such light.
Whom men for brightnes Lucifer did call,
And Christ himselfe doth say and witnes beare,
That he from heauen saw fowle Sathan fall,
Like to the fiery streames of lightning cleare.
Whom Iewes cald Bemoth, which doth signifie
A cursed beast and full of crueltie.
And is the serpent cal'd Leviathan,
Whereof most learned Isodore doth wright,
That is so great an enemy to man,
And taketh all his pleasure and delight
To haunt the Seas and waters troubled,
Of whom King David to vs Prophesied,
In his divine and most spirituall song,
Wherein he doth set forth to vs that beast,
The fiery and most furious Dragon strong,
That hath his habitation, and doth rest
Within the Seas, mongst Snakes and Adders vile,
Devising how he may man-kind beguile.
The which a Monke cald Br [...]ndon once did see,
(In vision when vpon the Seas he was,)
Into a fearefull pit cast downe to bee,
And there was bound his cursed daies to passe;
Vntill the last and great, a generall doome,
When Christ with power to judge the world should come
This cursed serpent he that did devise
(As in the holy scriptures we doe find)
To come to Adam, when in Paradise
He was, and cause he hated all man-kind,
When as occasion fit he did espie,
Deceaued him by diuelish polecie.
And that he might the better worke the same,
He tooke on him the shape of serpent slie,
With maidens face, and in that manner came
To E [...]a, and with great subtility
And face full smooth, himselfe to her did goe,
And of her did desire the cause to know,
Why God did them forbid to touch and eat,
The fruit that on the tree of Life did grow,
Of which, he said the vertue was so great,
That it would make them good and evill know
And be as Gods, and so to her did giue
Two Apples, which she tooke and did belieue
What he had said, of which when she had fed,
And vnto Adam given thereof to proue,
As he alleadg'd their eies were opened,
And for their guilt God did them straight remoue:
And from terrestriall Paradise did throw,
Commanding them the earth to till and sow.
With sweat of browes their living there to get.
And thus this most accursed fiend of hell,
His mind vpon all wickednesse did set,
And into such a rage gainst mankind fell:
That taking face of woman for a while,
By his false tongue he did them so beguile.
And vs'd that filthy beast to worke his will,
And spake in her; and often doth the like,
I [...] them that are possest with spirits ill,
And forceth them to fall in such dislike
Of God and all his workes, that furiously
They curse and blaspheme God most horribly.
This wicked serpent cal'd Leuiathan,
Continuing in his purpose as we find,
T'effect his cursed will gainst silly man,
Devis'd to speake in Idols dumbe and blind:
And caused man on them to cry and call,
And them t'adore with worship spirituall.
As they did vse in Delos to implore
Apollos aid. But Dauid doth declare,
That we should all such jmages abhorre,
And that the workes of mans own hands they are:
This shall suffice to shew how, where, & whan,
The worshipping of jdols first began.
And I suppose that Guido ment hereby,
To shew the same, as thinking t'was not knowne
Vnto the world, and for to certefie,
How at the last it was cleane overthrowne:
As also that such as vnlearned bee,
Thesequell of the same might plainely see.
And now I will proceed and briefly show,
That when Achilles, and Patroclus were
Arriu'd in Delos Isle, they straight did goe
Vnto Appollos Temple, there to heare
What answere he would giue them in that c [...]
So doubtfull, where they stayd a little space,
Before they did begin to sacrifice,
Consulting with the priests what course to take,
And after mature, counsell, and advise,
From them receau'd, they did their prayers make:
And certaine rich oblations did present,
Wherin when they much time & long had spent
Devoutly fore the Altar: at the last,
Appollo did his eares to them decline,
And after certaine daies were overpast,
Made answere vnto them with vowe divine:
And said, Achilles thou that now art sent
To me, by all the Grecians full consent;
Returne in hast againe and to them show,
That their desire accomplished shall be,
And that to Troye they all shall safely goe,
And there take land, though with some difficultie,
But at the last shall gainst their foes prevaile,
And after they haue fought many battaile,
At ten yeares end the towne of Troye shall win,
And cruelly put it vnto the sword,
And noneshall scape of all they find therein,
But such as they shall mercy then afford:
For Priamus, and Hecuba his wife,
And all their Sons in that same mortall strife,
The Grecians shall vnto confusion bring,
And slay them all, and having done, the towne,
The houses, walls, and every other thing,
Shall be defast and vtterly cast downe:
This is, said he, decreed by heavenly doome,
And in due time most sure to passe shall come.
Achilles with this answere was full glad,
And thanked God Appollo with his heart,
For his so good and gracious answere made;
And ere he out the Temple did depart,
By fortune Bishop Calchos thither came,
To sacrifice and pray in Priams name.
And for to know what issue he should haue,
In that his warre gainst Grecians tane in hand,
(This Calchos was both learned, wise, and graue,
And one of great account in Tr [...]yan land:
A man that did in science much excell,
And could both strāge & future things foretell.)
Who offering to the God due sacrifice,
(As in that case their vsuall manner was)
And praying on his knees in humble wise,
(Wherein he did some certaine howers passe)
Apollo without tarrying or delay
Spake vnto him, and in this sort did say:
Calchas, Calchas, (twice calling him by name)
See that to Troye thou goest not backe againe,
For if thou doest t'will turne thee vnto blame,
For know for truth, and so I tell thee plaine:
(Wherein thou maist belieue and credit me)
Ere long time passe it shall destroyed be.
For sure it is, and they can't notwithstand:
Therefore thou shalt vnto Achilles goe,
And with the Grecians joyne in heart and hand,
And stay with them, for I will haue it so:
For they (as I haue said) shall victors be,
And thereby win great fame and dignitie.
For so the Fates their honors will advance;
And thou to them by counsell wise and graue,
Shalt be a helper, aid, and furtherance
In their affaires, and of them thou shalt haue
Thy maintenance. Wherwith he straight arose,
And presently vnto Achilles goes.
Of whome with honor great and reverence,
He was receau'd according t'his estate,
And to him shewd his mind and full pretence,
And therevpon became confederate:
And vowed to be good friends one to th'other,
And so went out the Temple both together.
And speedely made preparation,
To goe from thence, and presently set saile
For Athens, where they did arriue full soone,
(For neither wind nor weather did them faile)
And landing there, did make no long delay,
But in all hast the very selfe same day,
Vnto the Greekes a full relation made,
What they had done in Delos bout their charge,
And what to them the God Apollo said,
Declaring all and every thing at large;
And how that they in those their wars should speed,
And that the Gods together had decreed,
The Troyans ruine and destruction.
And also what Apollo likewise spake,
And vnto Calchas said, and had foreshowne,
And willed him agreement straight to make
With Greekes, and not to Troye returne againe,
But with them ever after to remaine.
Where at the Grecks reioyc't and were full glad,
That of the Gods such favour they had found,
And after that with one consent they made
A league, and vnto Calchas straight were bound,
And he to them, with promise on each side,
As friends for ever after to abide.
Which done, each one vnto his lodging went,
Till next day in the morne, when glooming night
By force of Phebus beames away was sent,
And Sun began to shine most cleare and bright:
When as the Grecians offered sacrifice
Vnto the Gods in most submissiue wise.
And did devoutly hold a solemne feast
In Paynim wise, and in remembrance
Of th'answere which they had in their request
T'Apollo made, and with great reverence,
Gaue thanks to him with glad & ioyfull cheare.
The Troyan Bishop Calchas did appeare
Before them, and downe on his knees did fall,
Desiring them to giue him audience,
To speake his mind in presence of them all,
And that thereat they would take no offence:
Which being granted, they did silence make,
And he with sober countnance to them spake.
My Lords and Princes all assembled here,
Whose fame and honor great so much is sprad
Throughout the world, that Nations farre & neare,
Continually of you do stand im dread:
Is't not your purpose vnto Troye to goe,
And there against your foes your strength to sho [...]?
Why then do you deferre the time so long,
And still within the towne of Athens stay,
Sith that you haue an armie huge and strong?
Assure your selues nought's gotten by delay:
For tis the meanes to worke your hinderance;
And not the way your purpose to advance.
For thinke you, while that you so long abide
Here in this place, and make so much delay,
That Priam for himselfe will not provide,
And doth encrease his forces night and day:
And hath his spies here mongst you secretly,
That your proceedings to him certifie.
Me thinks this course you take is not the best,
For be assur'd King Priam is so wise,
That while you lie here still and take your rest,
He will not cease by all meanes to devise
To helpe stimselfe; delay is dangerous,
And may vnto yourselues be perillous.
And thus I prou't, for all the while that ye
Within the towne of Atheni still doe stand,
You giue your enemie meanes and libertie,
To make your selfe the stronger to withstand
Your forces, and at leasure to provide
Great store of men your comming to abide.
Therefore I say, you ought to haue more care,
Sith that as now it's by you all decreed,
Against your foes to goe, and to make warre,
And doe it with as much convenient speed
As possible you may withall your might,
For when the Iron's hote it's time to smite.
For if you stay vntill that it be cold,
And doe your time neglect to worke thereon,
Then will it neither plie, yeeld, bend nor fold.
Therefore I wish you all for to be gone,
And while you do in hearts and minds accord,
Without delay, each man straight go abord:
And make no stay to march against your foe,
That hath to you so great a trespasse done.
How many daies haue you as now let goe,
And months ore-past, and carelesly ore-run?
How oft hath Titan from the East to West,
Compast the world whilst you here take your rest.
And haue consum'd your time so pretious?
How long and often hath the pleasant air [...],
Caus'd by the gentle wind cald Zephirus,
And seas that haue so oft been calme and faire,
But overslipt by you, while you lie here?
It makes your foes suppose you doe't for feare,
And giues them cause t'esteeme the lesse of you.
Belieue me, (as to you I now am bound)
I will not spare to giue you counsell true,
Remember then (I say) how you haue found
The Gods to favour you in this respect,
And still will do't, if you do not neglect
Their grace, and by your great ingratitude
And sloathfulnesse, provoke them to agree
An other doome against you to conclude.
For if that they do you so carelesse see,
Think it not strange if they do change their minds,
And vnto you at last should proue vnkind.
I counsell you therefore now to be gone,
And see that you no longer tarrie heare,
And ere the time of harvest doth come on,
While that the weather is both faire and cleare,
And pleasant Summer bideth in his heat,
And fore the Winter comes that's cold & weat:
In season fresh and greene put to the seas,
And in the name of all the Gods proceed.
(This is my counsell take it as you please,)
For sith thereon you fullie haue decreed,
Make no delaie, but each man go to ship,
And let no longer time thus over-slip.

CHAP. IX.

¶ How the Grecians Nauie putting from Athens were distressed by tempest at Sea; and how they tooke the Castle of Saranaba belonging to the Troyans.

CAlchas thus hauing spoken as you heare,
The Grecians thinking his advise so given
To be most true, all that assembled were,
Agreed vpon the selfe same day, at even
To enter ship, and Agamemnon then
By sound of Trump did summon all his men,
To make all hast they could to part away,
Who being also willing to be gone,
Did speedilie take ship without delay,
And having pleasant wind at will, full soone
Put forth to sea with all their warlike band▪
And presentlie were out of fight of land.
(To tell how many ships they had were vaine,
Because it hath alreadie beene declar'd,
But sure it is most evident and plaine,
That nere tofore of like fleet hath been heard▪
Nor such a number of most valiant men,
As in their hoast assembled were as then.)
And being on the seas in weather cleare,
Full sodainelie the wind began to rise,
The aire waxt darke, & they therewith did heare
Huge thunder-claps [...]ebound out of the skies:
Which with such furie on their ships then stroke,
That many Masts and Yards in sunder broke.
The waues likewise did rise so huge and hie,
And such a storme of raine and haile did fall
Vpon the Seas, that it did make the skie
To shew as blacke as pitch; and there withall
The lightning in their fearefull faces flasht,
So mightily, that they were sore agast.
And every man began to call and crie
Vnto their Gods in that most fearefull case,
And made account assuredlie to die;
But Colchos who in knowledge did surpasse,
When he had made and said some Orasions,
By divelish charmes and inchantations,
Did cease the storms & cause the Sun shine cleare,
Which made their heauie hearts exceding glad,
And told them how the cause of that great feare,
And tempest sore which they endured had,
Was for that faire Diana, discontent
With them, because their course to Troye they bent.
And put to sea ere they did her adore,
Or offer'd any sacrifice at all
Vpon her Altars, or her aid implore,
Which made her in so great a rage to fall:
That if he had not found the meanes t'appease
Her wrath, she would haue drownd thē in the seas
Wherewith King Agamemnon presently,
(Belieuing Colchos counsell) with all speed,
Perceiving that his fleet not farre did lie
From th'Isle Aulides, sodainlie decreed
To land therein, where by good fortune he,
A little Chappell found therein to be,
That was vnto Diana dedicate.
Whereto with all the speed he could he went,
To offer sacrifice (thereby t'abate
Th'incensed Goddesse Wrath) and after spent
Long time in prayer, vntill that it appear'd,
The seas of storms & tempests all were clear'd.
But some men say and for a truth declare,
(As Ou [...]d long discourse thereof doth make)
That Agamemnon did as then not spare,
His daughter Effigenia to take;
And on the Altar naked did her laye,
Supposing with his virgins blood to stay
Diana's wrath, and he therewith would be
Appeased with them, but she loath to behold
The virgin put to such extreamitie,
(The bowels of her mercie to vnfold)
Invisibly from thence did take the maid,
And in her steed a Hart on th'Altar laid,
Which Agamemnon thereon offered,
And with the same the Goddesse satisfied.
Which having done and all things finished,
That therevnto belong'd, in hast he hyed
Vnto his ship, and having weather cleare
Put to the sea againe, without all feare
And by her aid and helpe, whome some do say
To be mans guide and chiefe direction,
When on the sea or land, by night or day,
He travaileth, and her protection,
By such as skill haue in Astronomie,
And seeke her fame t'extoll and magnifie.
Reported is, and found most strong to be,
When as she keepeth this her scituate
Within his tents and twelfth house by degree,
For in those two she is most fortunate:
And doth her clearest light on earth reflect,
If that she be conioynd with good aspect.
Of any other faire and happie starre,
Which vnto men that travell is bening,
And in short time saild on the seas so farre,
With wind so good that soone it did them bring
Vnto the coast of Troye, where on the strand,
A Castle strong at that same time did stand:
Ditcht round about, and wal'd exceeding hie,
With divers Towers therein both round & square,
And hard by it a haven there did lie,
Which many faddomes deepe of water bare:
Where ships might safely anker and abide,
And gainst all wind and weather safely ride.
(Which Castle though that Dares hath forgot
To name it, yet some Authors do it call
Saranaba) where Grecians failed not
To enter, and their ankors there let fall,
Despight of all that offered to resist,
(For at that time they might do what they list.)
Which onely were the garrison of men,
That in the fort (to keepe and hold the same)
Were placed by King Priamus as then,
Who valiantly (to their eternall fame)
Assoone as they espyed the Grecians enter,
Came forth, and to resist them did adventer.
With full pretence their landing to jmpeach
With all their power, if that it might preuaile,
But t'was as then too farre aboue their reach,
For then the Greeks did them so farre assaile,
That they could not against them long endure,
Though they suppos'd & did themselues assure.
(Because the Grecians long at sea had laine,
And wearied with sailing too and fro)
The victory with ease they should obtaine,
But yet they did not find it to be so:
For it fell out with them vnhappily,
Because they did it vnadvisedly.
For when that they together fiercely met,
With pikes and other weapons for the warre,
And that their powers vpon each other set,
The Grecians did exceed the Troyans farre
In number, and as then did plainlie shew,
That Troyans to withstand them were too few.
And had a farre vnequall match then found,
To fight against a power innumerable,
And yet they would not yeeld one foot of ground▪
Till many of them were wounded, and t'weake
The Grecians fierce and angrie moods to stay,
That spar'd them not in cruell wise to slay,
And shew'd not any mercie what so ere.
So that of force they were constraind to run,
As fast as ere they could in extreame feare,
The furie of their foes as then to shun:
(For truth to say, and brieflie to conclude,
They had gainst them too great a multitude)
And by constraint abandoning the place,
To saue their liues vnto their Castle fled,
The Grecians hotlie following them in chase,
And leaving in the field great numbers dead:
Pell mell with them, got to the Castle gate,
Whereas perforce (vnto their cruell fate.)
They entred in, and did it fiercelie win,
And without mercie slew them every one,
And all the treasure that they found therein,
Vnto their ships did beare; which hauing done,
Intending there to make no longer stay,
They brake the Castle downe & did it lay
Flat on the ground, which being cleane defast,
And not a stone left standing, they decreed
To goe from thence, and making all the hast
They could, did saile to Tenadon with speed,
A Castle then within the Troyan land,
That six miles frō the towne of Troye did stand;
And not farre distant from the sea was set▪
Within a faire and pleasant plot of ground,
And aire most wholesome, fresh▪ and verie sweet,
Environed with spacious plaines, and round
About it grew all kind of corne, and vines,
(Wherof they made great store of pleasant wines)
Fruits, hearbs, & flowers, of faire & severall kinds,
And everie other thing that man could wish,
To serue his turne, with store of Harts & Hinds,
Calues, Hogs, and Sheepe, and everie sort of fish
That surging seas doth yeeld: so that it might
Be cal'd a place of pleasure and delight,
In which the souldiers liu'd in all content.
Whereto when as the Grecians did arriue,
And fore it boldlie did themselues present.
The Troyans hoping them from thence to driue,
Most part of them well arm'd with speed went out,
And casting forth a huge and hideous shout,
Marcht valiantlie against their foes (as then
Vpon the land, in faire and rich array,
And with so great a multitude of men,
That all the strand and field along the way
Vnto the Castle walls, was covered
By them,) but yet the Troyans without dread
(Demanding not wherefore they came, nor what
They sought as then within the Troyans land)
Assailed them with so great courage, that
The aire at their encounter hand to hand,
Did sound with noise of Drum & trumpets braue,
And with the strokes that either side then gaue
On helmets, shields, & armes, from whence the fire
In sparkes flew out, and many a man was slaine,
And some lay wounded groveling in the mire,
Some bleeding and in great and deadly paine▪
Their Horses running maisterlesse about,
And all the field, and all the way throughout
Was fild with legs, armes, heads and hands of men,
Smitten off, and fiercelie hewd and cut in sunder,
And thousands on each side were slaine as then
(But on the Grecians part the greatest number:)
The Troyans did so fiercely them assaile▪
But all their force at last could not preuaile,
Against so great a power and multitude
Of Greekes, that then were fortie at the least
Gainst one of them, so that for to conclude,
They were constraind (as being overprest)
With all the speed they could for to retire▪
(Though wanting neither manhood not desire)
To fight against their foes, and in great hast,
As many of them [...] could escape a [...]ay,
And saue their lines, by force through th'enemy past,
And to the Castle go [...], and that same day
Some road in po [...]st▪ & with no little feare,
The newes vnto thetowne of Tr [...]ye to beare.
And need they had [...] flie with all their might,
For in the chase the Gr [...]kes did them pursue
Vnto the gates, and never left till night,
But many of them in incruell wise then flew▪
That stragling here and there did chance to light
Into their hands, as they were in the flight.
Nor any one of what degree so ere
Was spar'd by them, nor ransome would be tane,
Such hatred to the Troyans they did beare:
And when they had great nombers of them slaine,
They did besiege the Castle round about
So closely, that they could not issue out.
Which doue, the bulwarks presently they wonne,
And then with fierce assault they did assay
To scale the walls, but they within full soone
Mounting thereon▪ their furious moods did stay:
And draue thē thence with so great force & might,
Of stones, long bowes, & blows of coutl [...]s bright▪
Pikes, Crosse bows, darts, & wild-fier which they cast
Downe from the walles, and did the same defend
So valiantly, that spight their hearts at last,
When as the Greekes with ladders did ascend,
They were by thē thrown headlong down the wall,
And forst with great despight on ground to fall.
Till at the last the Grecians gins did frame,
Wherewith against the Castle stones they threw,
And in such wise they battered the same,
(That Troyans hardly could their faces shew)
And then againe their ladders rear'd vpright,
And mounting vp vs'd all their power & might
To enter on their enemies forcibly▪
But Troyans nought abasht, with valiant mood
For their defence at them let arrows flie
From off the walls, and mightily with stood
Their fierce assault, and beat them off againe,
At which time many Grecians prowd were slaine
By push of Pike, and huge and mighty stones,
Which from the walls they cast, and therewithall
Did breake the Grecians necks, & bruise their bones,
And spight their hearts constraind thē down to fall
Vpon the ground, in pale and deadly hew,
But once againe the Greekes [...]h'assault renue.
And with so great a number did [...]saile
The Castle on all sides, that in the end,
The Troyans forces cleane began to saile,
And were no longer able to defe [...]d
Themselues, when no succo [...] they perceiued,
They waxed faint, and so at men bereaued
Of all reliefe, they did the best they might
To saue their lines, but Gre [...] valiantly
Did enter, and in rage and great despight,
Kild all that were within most furiously▪
And when the Castle strong they had so woone,
They plast their ensignes on the walls, which done
They ransackt it, and what so ere they found,
Gold, treasure, and each other costly ware,
In packes and fardels they't together bound,
And to their ships with present speed it bare▪
And breaking downe the Castle, made it plaine
And even with the ground, and so againe
Returned vnto their ships, and when they had
Refresht and eas'd themselues, and to declare
They ioy for victory gaind, great triumph made
Their Generall, whose chiefe and speciall care,
Was to reward each one in his degree,
Caus'd all his Captaines to assembled bee.
And all the treasure they as then had wonne,
Brought forth & laid in open view, he made
To rich and poore like distribution:
But most to them that best deserued had,
And ventured life and lim for honors sake,
But he himselfe no part thereof would take.
As having more desire to win their hearts,
Then t'haue their goods, for he that's liberall,
And mongst his souldiers willingly imparts
His treasure, into danger nere doth fall:
And bountie wins their hearts, & doth them moue,
Their Generals to honor and to loue.

CHAP. X.

¶ How Agamemnon assembled all the Nobles [...] chiefe Commanders of the Grecians, where vp [...] deliberation taken amongst them, they sent [...] and Diomedes, Ambassadors onto Priam Ki [...] of Troye, to demaund restitution of Queen He­lena, and the domages done by Paris in the Tem­ple of Cithera.

THe treasure dealt among them as you heare,
Commandment was by Agamemnon made,
That gainst next day the Princes should appeare▪
Before him to conferre, and when they had
Tane rest a while, and that the radiant light
Of Phebus glistring face, did shinemost bright
Vpon the earth. The Grecions on the land,
And Agamemnon plast in royall seat,
With all his power which bout him then did stand,
And all the Princes there together met:
And placed were each one in his degree,
Silence once made, and oportunity
Then offered; The King with princely grace,
And pleasing tearmes, as being eloquent
And very wise, rose vp out of his place,
And shew to them his will and his intent:
Th'effect whereof in substance doth appeare,
Hereafter as you presently shall heare.
My Lords (said he) you know and must confesse,
That we of right and meere necessity,
Compelled are at this time to redresse
A wrong to vs done by the cruelty
Of Troyans, vnto whome we gaue no cause,
To breake the ancient God of peace's lawes.
True tis that we (as all the world doth know)
Are of sufficient power, force, and might,
And are esteemd and knowne of hie and low,
To be the men that able are to right
All wrongs whatsoere, & both by sea & land,
T'effect such things as we shall take in hand,
Despight of all that gainst vs will resist.
Yet I suppose, and't ever hath been seene,
That power which in it selfe doth not consist,
Nor is puft vp with pride, hath alwaies beene,
And to the Gods is most acceptable,
And longest doth remaine vpright and stable.
For is there any one amongst vs all,
But knows for truth, and can full well expresse,
What harmes and griefs do oftentimes befall,
By envie, pride, and diuellish wilfulnesse?
And when by pride men take a thing in hand,
The Gods incenst, their actions do withstand,
And crosse all those that are superbious.
For truth to say, it is avice abhord
Of every man, and held most dangerous,
For pride nought else but mischiefe doth afford▪
(Yet must we not for pride esteeme or hold,
The valor in a man of courage bold.)
For he that vnto pride his mind doth giue,
Or doth converse with one that's proud in heart,
And takes delight with such a man to liue,
Can neither will nor chuse but haue his part,
Of all such crosses as to pride befall,
Which commonly despised is of all.
And nothing doth impaire mans honor more,
(Of what estate so euer that he bee)
Then pride. Wherfore let vs the same abhore,
And from it, as from cruell viper flee:
And wholly race it out of heart and mind,
And so we shall the Gods more gracious find▪
Especially when as our quarrel's iust,
And that we ground it vpon equity,
But if that pride and envie should vs thrust
Into a warre without necessity;
Or lawfull cause, but onely of meere hate,
The end thereof would proue vnfortunate.
But all you know that we as now are here,
With full consent within the Troyan land,
To be revengd for wrongs that long since were
By Priam done to vs, and for to stand
Vnto the triall of our cause by might,
Wherein we know we do nought else but right.
And to that end we haue begun t▪nvade,
And wasted, spoyld, and over-run his lands,
Destroyd, and rane his Castles strong, and made
Occision of his men with warlike bands:
And many other harmes committed haue,
(Whereof himselfe the first occasion gaue.)
So that if he did hate vs heretofore,
(As by fore passed actions it appeares)
I dare well say he hates vs now much more:
And that if to revenge himselfe it were
Within his power, you presently should see,
What strange revenge by him would taken bee.
And yet tis sure that they full well do know,
And heare of our arrivall in their land,
Although thereof they seeme to make no show,
And what by vs is done they vnderstand:
For that as yet it's fresh in memory.
So that if they were strong vs to defie,
They would soone march to meet vs in the field,
Yet certaine tis their towne is huge and great,
And by all men invincible is held,
And fild with Knights therein together met,
Of their allies; so that ere we begin,
I know we shall small vantage gainst them win.
For he that in a quarrell iust doth stand,
And fighteth to defend his Countre [...],
Within a towne in his owne natiue land,
And hath great store of faithfull friends that be
To him allied, more vantage hath thereby
To ayd himselfe, then hath his enemy.
For oftentimes the Raven doth withstand,
And fights long with the Fawlcon in his nest,
Before the Fawlcon gets the vpper hand,
And hath the meanes to flie and take her rest,
While that the Fawlcon doth for her attend,
For birds will in their nests themselues defend.
I speake not this (and so I pray conceaue)
To put your valiant hearts in any doubt,
Or once your minds of hope for to bereaue,
Of bringing this our enterprise about,
Which is, to spoile and vtterly confound
The Troyans and their towne, though it abound
With men and meanes against, vs to resist,
And to defend themselues for certaine time,
For [...]re we from our enterprise desist,
Which now you see is meerely in the prime,
We make no doubt but to destroy them all,
And bring them to their ends what ere befall.
But th'only cause why I these words nowvse,
Is to diswade you from presumption
And pride of heart, least that you should abuse
Yourselues herein by indiscretion:
And wisely in this case so well provide,
That reason, and not will, may be your guide.
And ere we stirre from hence such order take,
That we may reape great commendation,
And of our wars a happy end soone make,
For th'onor of the Grecian Nation:
For oft we see the want of good foresight,
I speciall cause to breed a man despight,
When as he vndertaketh any thing,
Without forecasting what thereof may fall,
And in the end doth him to ruine bring.
It stands v [...]then vpon in mind to call,
What issue may ensue of our intent,
Least that in fine it maketh vs repent.
You know how first King Priamus did send
To vs to haue his sister Exion,
(By faire meanes, and to peace did seeme to bend)
Who yet is holden by King Tolamon:
And how that we with one consent deny'd
His small request, and boldly him defi'd.
Which vnto vs not any vantage brought,
But onely was the meanes of our despight,
And afterwards no little mischiefe wrought▪
For if that we by provident foresight,
Had not deny'd; all harmes had been eschewd,
That after by the Troyans were pursude,
At Cithera, nor yet the treasure great
And costly jewels woone by Paris, had
Been carried vnto Troye (their regall seat)
Nor slaughter of our men by them been made:
Nor yet the woe that Helena procur'd
In Grecian land, so long therein endur'd.
Nor any wrong to Menelaus been done,
If we (I say) had well considered
Thereon, and him restored Exion:
Nor had we been so foolishlie misled,
To spend our treasure and our goods in vaine,
To come to fetch Queene Helena againe:
With no small costs or charges to vs all,
And dangers great, as you may well suppose,
And yet we know not what may chance befall,
Or whether we in fine shall win or lose:
Sith that nothing on earth is permanent,
But vnto alteration still is bent.
And for that fortune all things can subvert,
And to a good beginning giue bad end,
All dangers therefore from vs to divert,
And wiselie to begin that we pretend▪
My counsell is ere further we proceed,
To send vnto King Priamus with speed:
To will him to make restitution
Of Helena, as reason doth require,
And of all other wrongs vnto vs done
By Paris, vnto which our iust desire
If he consent▪ we may returne to Greece
With honor, and all further troubles cease.
But if he seeme this offer to refuse,
And wilfullie reiecteth our demand,
Then shall we haue occasion iust to vse
All rigour whatsoere within his land:
To spoyle his towne, and lay it flat on ground,
And vtterly both him and his confound.
And two things will our action iustifie,
The one is, that our quarrell iust and right,
(Which to be so no man can well denie)
Will maintaine vs, and boldly for vs fight,
And vs and ours will lawfully excuse,
But them condemne because they did refuse
Our iust demand to them first offered.
The other is, that through the world so wide,
All men will say, that we were iustlie led
To take revenge, and will hold on our side:
And them perpetuallie for ever blame
Of wilfulnesse, to their erelasting shame.
And all extreames that by vs shall be vs'd,
Gainst woman, child, or man of each degree,
For causes fore aledg'd will be excus'd
I [...] [...]s, and we shall wholly freed bee:
Though that we kill and spoile them every one,
And shew no mercy vnto any one.
But yet before we enter thereinto,
My counsell is, this offer should be made
To them, and that with speed the same you do:
And by this meanes (as I before haue said)
We shall great praise and commendation gaine;
Which said, he sat downe in his throwne againe.
But mongst the Grecian Princes many were
Of cl [...]ane contrarie minds, and would not grant
That any should such message from them beare
To Priamus, least he should brag and vant,
That they to him had sent to craue amends,
And m [...]tion made with him for to be friends.
Yet such as more experience seemd to haue,
To Agamemnons counsell did agree,
And to the same their free consents then gaue,
That Diomed and Vlisses sent should bee,
Their minds vnto King Priamus to shoe,
Who straight without delay to Troye did goe.
At such time as the Sun with radiant light,
(Had past along the whirling Hemisphere)
At noone-time with his beames exceding bright,
Vpon each hill and valley shone most cleare:
And when vnto the towne of Troye they got,
They entered therein and staied not,
But straight vnto King Priams pallace went,
(For that the streets directlie led them to't,)
Not showing any man what their intent
As then might be, nor asking leaue to do't:
Intending without feare or any dread,
In their Embassage boldlie to proceed.
(And (truth to say) no man did them resuse
To enter nor to passe along the street,
For t'may be that as then they did not vse,
For pasports or safe conducts to intreat
For messengers: but such as in that sort,
To any Prince or Countrie did resort,
Had leaue to enter freely without doubt.)
And at the last they came to Ilyon,
The which with admiration, round about
They viewed well, esteeming it alone,
Surpast all others both in breadth and length,
Beautie, exceeding richnesse, and for strength.
And yet they wondred more (thogh't did thē good)
Within the court all pau'd with lasper stone,
To see a tree in midst thereof that stood,
Which like vnto the Sun for brightnesse shone:
But could not iudge it to be naturall,
Or made by workemen artificiall.
Or framd by divellish inchantation,
Or cunning of some learnd philosophie,
Or whether t'was but meere illusion,
And did appeare that t'was not to the eie:
And long they stood much troubled in their mind,
To see if that they could by reason find,
The ground of such a woonderfull devise,
But t'was too hard for them to comprehend,
So that if nere so long they should surmise,
Or on the same whole yeares in studie spend,
To find the truth thereof t'was impossible,
And yet to all mens sight t'was visible,
And palpably for to be felt with hand.
The stocke whereof was gold most bright & cleare,
Which straight as any Mast or Palme did stand,
And did a huge and great proportion beare:
The height twelue cubits at the least and more,
And many branches great and small it boare.
Which large and wide all ore the place did spread,
And such a breadth it bare, that round about
The court therewith was wholly shadowed▪
The branches and the leaues thereof throughout
The tree in paires together coupled were,
The one ol gold, the other silver clere.
The fruit it bare was precious stones most fine,
Of colours white, greene, red, and saphire blew,
Which on the same exceedingly did shine,
And every day the blossoms did renue:
And on it hung with colours variable,
Which to the Grecians seemd most admirable.
Who having long beheld it, at the last
Went forward with intent t'effect their charge,
And never staid but through the pallace past,
So long, till that into a chamber large
They entered, whereas King Priamus
Sat in a throane most rich and sumptous.
Accompanied with his Nobilitie,
Who all along the chamber on each side,
About him sat with princely maiestie,
On whome the Greeks (which did exceed in pride,
With visage sterne, and froward countenance,
As having then but small rememberance
Of honor) look't most boldlie in the face,
And without any curtesie or word
Once offered, sat downe and tooke their place,
Right opposite against the counsell bord:
And there regarding not the Maiestie
O [...] Priamus, nor his Nobilitie,
When they had paws'd awhile, with courage bold
Vlisses gan vnto King Priamus,
Th'effect of their Embassage to vnfold,
So stoutlie, and with words presumptuous,
That all that were assembled did admire
His pride, & mus'd what he would then require:
And said, let it as now no woonder bee,
That we do vse no kind of courtesies,
Nor honors at our entrie vnto thee,
To whome we are most deadlie enemies:
For where as ranckor and disdaine takes place,
Great follie t'were to shew a flattering face.
And truth to say, whereas the heart with fire
Of envie burnes, and beares a deadlie hate
Vnto a man it never doth desire
His welfare, but subversion of estate:
To him and his, and therefore ile not spare,
Th'effect of our embassage to declare;
As it to vs delivered was in charge,
From Agamemnon our braue Generall,
Whereof in briefe our duties to discharge,
We tell thee plaine, and so we do to all
That here assembled are this present day,
That he hath sent to thee for Helena.
Whome thou from Grecians forciblie didst take,
And gainst all right and by meere violence,
Broughtst her to Troye, of whome he wils thee make
Deliverie vnto vs, and straight from hence
To send her to her Lord King Menelaus,
Without delay, excuse, or further pawse.
He also asketh restitution,
Of all the wrongs and iniuries that were
By Paris in the Grecians Country done,
When he to rauish Helena was there;
And thou the same not onlie doest maintaine,
But Paris in his error doest sustaine.
Whereof he willeth thee without delay,
To make amends, as reason doth require,
And so thou maist the Gods from vengeance stay,
If thou dost grant to that he doth desire:
(Whereto we counsell thee if thou beest wise)
But if thou seemst this message to despise,
And wilt refuse to grant vnto the same,
Assure thy selfe, and thou shalt find it true,
(Wherein none but thy selfe shall beare the blame,)
Both thou and thine hereafter shall it rue:
Vnlesse herein some order thou dost take,
For nought but cruell death an end shall make
Twixt thee and vs of this contention,
For thou and thine in fine destroid shall be,
Without all pittie or redemption;
And which is more, and say I told it thee,
Thy towne which now is built so huge & strong,
Against our force shall not continue long.
But we will beat it downe & lay't fulllow,
And vtterly in great despight and rage,
The houses, wals, & towers thereof orethrow,
Vnlesse our angrie moods thou dost asswage:
Seeme not therefore our counsell to despise,
But shew thy selfe herein for to be wise.
When Priam heard the Grecians with such pride,
Before his face their embassage declare,
And in a manner seemd him to deride,
As though for him and his they did not care:
(Much mou'd thereat, & yet his furie staid)
Vnto Vlisses spake, and thus he said;
I woonder much that thus within this place,
You dare presume to make your prowd demand,
And (which is more) so boldly to my face,
As if that you the power had to command,
And me constraine your message to obay,
And that thereto I durst you not denay,
Nor yet deny what ere you do require.
I tell you plaine it doth offend me much,
To heare your prowd and insolent desire,
And (which is more) mine honor so doth tuch:
That (truth to say) I hardlie can refraine
To be reveng'd on you: but ile restraine
My wrath as now, and in my bounds will hold,
Yet nere the sooner grant to your request:
For know you shall, I will not be controld,
Sith you and yours I vtterlie detest.
And brieflie for to answere your demand,
It doth not with the regall honor stand
Of any King, to grant to your desire,
Although he were in great extreamitie;
And (truth to say) great wrong t'were to require
That at his hands, which you demand of me:
And hardlie can I thinke (though you proceed
To do, as you do vaunt you haue decreed)
You shall therein so much gainst vs pre [...]aile:
For if it please the Gods, I tell you plaine
I will such order take that you shall faile
Of your expected hope, and little gaine
Therby, although with vows you haue it sworne,
And seeme as now both me and mine to scorne.
For your request as everie man may see,
To aske of me a satisfaction,
Is without ground of truth or equitie,
Sith you your selues gaue first occasion,
By killing noble King Laomedon
My Father, and destruction of his towne,
With slaughter of his men, and many more
Great iniuries, (which if the truth were knowne)
All causlesse, you haue done vs heretofore,
Which overlong as now were to be showen:
For which my heart with griefe is so possest,
That while I liue it nere shall be at rest,
Till that I be revenged for the same,
And for my Sister Exion (if I may)
Whome you (although to your no little shame)
Led Captiue into Greece, and to this day
Still hold her there, not like to her degree,
Which you may well suppose much spiteth me.
And yet for all these wrongs you aske amends
Of me, that not long since, to liue in peace
(Sent vnto you to th'end we might be friends,
And that all former enmitie might cease)
To pray you to send Exion home againe,
Which you not onlie seem'd much to disdaine,
But spightfullie my messenger abus'd,
And threatning him with death for cōming there,
My iust demand to you then made, refus'd.
Wherefore sith that to me such spight you beare,
I will not heare nor grant to your request,
So much I do your pride and you detest.
And die I will with honor in the field,
Before that to one point of your demand,
In any wise I will consent or yeeld.
And to that end I let you vnderstand,
That th'onelie thing that I as now doe crave
Is warre, not peace with you and yours to haue,
Sith you gainst vs haue vs'd such crueltie.
And know you shall that for your bold attempt
To threaten me, you presentlie should die,
But that the law of armes doth you exempt
From death, because Embassadors you are.
Wherefore in hast t'were best for you prepare,
With speed to go from hence out of my sight,
And void the towne assoone as ere you may,
For that to see you heare tis such despight
And griefe to me, that I can hardlie stay
From iust revenge on you, such is the rage
That moues my heart, & by no means will swage.
King Priamus this answere having made,
Diomedes with scornfull smile then rose,
And in disdaine spake vnto him and said,
If that our presence now (as I suppose)
Be to thy heart so great a griefe and paine,
And makes thee rage, when as we are but twaine:
Then for a truth we let thee vnderstand,
That thou shalt never while thou liu'st want woes,
To see so many Grecians in thy land,
And all of them thy stearne and deadlie foes:
Whose number are an hundred thousand strong,
That will be here before thy gates ere long.
Against whose mightie power invincible,
Though thou farre stronger wer [...] thē now thou art,
Vs to resist it were impossible,
Wherefore I wish thee play a wise mans part,
And be advis'd, for t'will thee nought availe,
To striue gainst thē, for sure thou canst not faile,
Both thou and thine to die by Grecians swords,
Thy towne destroid and all that longs thereto,
Although thou seemst to vse such hautie words,
And with thy tong speak'st more thē thou canst do:
But better t'were such boasting speech to leaue,
And vnto our good counsell credite giue.
When Diomedes proudlie with disdaine
Had spoken thus, some Troyans in a rage,
Drew out their swords, & would him straight haue slaine,
But Priamus their furies to asswage,
Rose vp, and with a countenance seuere,
On paine of death commanded them t'forbeare
From wronging such as for Embassadors were
Sent vnto him, or t'offer them offence.
For though (said he) a foole will not forbeare
To speake without discretion, wit, or sence;
A wise man must from rash attempts surcease,
And wincking at such follie, hold his peace.
For if a foole speakes vnadvisedlie,
And by that meanes doth moue dissention,
A wise man should not hastilie replie,
Nor shun no kind of indiscretion:
For vnto fooles it properlie belongs,
For to bewray their follie with their tongues▪
And wise men should be wary what they say,
And well advis'd in all their actions,
And both their hands and tongs discreetly stay,
From giuing cause to nourish factions:
For fooles by custome indiscreetly speake,
And oftentimes into great choller breake.
But wisemen can dissemble what they heare,
And till that time and place convenient bee,
With th'vnadvised rage of follie beare,
Which lasts not long, as commonlie we see:
And for my part I do you all assure,
That rather would I wrong my selfe endure,
Then to permit the least offence that is,
For to be done by any man what ere,
(For things which they suppose to be amisse)
To any messenger that now is here
Within my Court, for tis not fit that we,
For everie small offence reveng'd should be.
For many times wrongs rashlie offered,
When little cause or none to do't there is,
Whereof some great revenge hath followed,
For hastiemen of woe doe neuer misse:
Wherefore I charge you everie one sit downe,
And see that no man by presumption
Attempteth for to wrong in any wise,
Th'Embassadors of Grecia hither sent,
Nor furiously in malice gainst them rise:
But let them freelie shew the whole intent,
And scope of their embassage whatsoere,
And sit you still, while we with silence heare.
With that Aeneas rose out of his seat,
(Which next on th'one side of King Priam was)
And in a furious rage and choller great,
Said to the King, with licence of your Grace,
I thinke when one without advise doth speake,
That he not onlie well deserues a cheake,
But punishment, that men by him may take
Example, how in open audience,
Such vproares and dissentions they do make,
Thereby t'offend your roiall Excellence:
And (truth to say) it might so come to passe,
That I the bounds of reason might surpasse
In this respect, and hastilie commit
A great offence, whereby your royall Grace
Might censure me to die therefore; but yet,
Ift were not for your presence in this place,
I would revenged be vpon these twaine,
That haue so proudlie spoken in disdaine
Of you, (for tis a most vnseemely thing,
To heare a foole with great presumption,
(In presence of a high and mightie King)
Take on him without all discretion,
To speak that which to him might breed offence,
And preiudice to his magnificence.)
To teach him how in better sort to learne
To vse his tongue, and when to hold his peace,
And of the persons better to discerne,
To whome he speakes, and not with such excesse
As he hath done, that now before your Grace
So prowdly spoken hath, to your disgrace.
For which I counsell him if he be wise,
Out of your Graces sight with spreed to goe,
And not to stay long here, vpon surmise,
That what so ere presumption he doth shoe,
The law of armes is his protection:
For if he do he'le feele the smartfull soone.
Wherewith Diomedes disdainfully,
In proud and hawty words, and yet but few,
Did to Aeneas sodainlie reply,
Saying, thy speech sufficientlie doth shew,
That without doubt thou art exceeding wise,
And that the Prince that followeth thine advise,
Or vnto thee his secrets doth impart,
Can never erre, nor do ought that's amisse,
Because thou of so good a iudgement art,
That wilfullie without all good advise,
Prouok'st thy Prince the laws of armes to breake:
But would to God I might once with thee speake
Alone, when oportunitie doth serue,
That I might thee requite for thy great skill
And curtesie, as thou dost well deserue,
Which if I liue assuredly, I will,
And thereof make account, for if we meet
In field, with other tearmes I will thee greet.
But wise Vlisses rising vp then spake,
And seeming Diomedes speech t'excuse,
Vnto him said, now further words to make,
Or longer here more arguments to vse
Meere follie t'were for vs: and to the King
He said, sith thou wilt do no other thing,
Nor make no further answere then thou hast,
Weele stay no longer here, but straight be gone,
And make relation (what twixt vs hath past)
Vnto the Grecian Princes every one:
And how we find thee obstinately bent
To hearken, or to grant to their intent.
And so without delay to horse they mount,
And to the Grecians armies road in hast,
And there to Agamemnon did recount
All what King Priam said, and what had past
Twixt them in Troye, wherby the Greeks did see,
The Troyans purpose and intent to bee,
Not once to yeeld Queene Helena to send
To them againe, but valiantly to fight,
And gainst their foes their Citie to defend,
And if they could by valour and by might,
Driue them frō thence, which though it pleasd thē not,
Yet sith they saw that such had been their lot,
To vndertake that hawtie enterprise,
And that there was no other remedie,
They did consult what waies they should devise,
To helpe themselues in their necessitie
Of victuals, and all other things beside,
Whereof in hast they did themselues provide.
But first before I shew what meanes they made
To helpe themselues, whil'st they fore Troye did lie,
I must declare what's of Aeneas said
By Guido, who for truth doth certifie,
His father Duke Anchises was, and that
He on the Goddesse Uenus him begat.
And how that after Troye was cleane defast
And overthrowen, he sail'd from thence by seas,
And having past by many Coasts, at last
At Carthage did arriue, where for to ease
Himselfe he stayd, and then tooke ship againe,
And sail'd so long that with great toyle & paine
His ships arriu'd in Italie in th'end,
The which by him was wholly conquered,
And that Augustus Casar did descend
From him, that was so highlie honored,
For many Conquests valiantly atchiu'd
By him, while on this earthly mowld he liu'd.
And Iustine that was Emperour a while,
(Within his booke Autentikes cald by name,
The Rubrikes of Aeneas did compile
In memory of him, because he came
So long a iourney into Italie,
And conquered it for his posteritie.
Which long time held the same, and did defend
The regall state thereof by valiant hand,
For Casar did (ast's said) from him descend,
And first jmperiall Diadem in that land
Did weare: and by his pollicie and wit,
Ordaind the civill lawes to governe it.
What further of Aeneas travelling
You seeke to know: in Uirgill, you may see
The same at large, who writeth everie thing
By him atchieu'd, though some perswaded bee
That Virgill was long dead and buried,
Before his booke was fullie finished.

CHAP. XI.

¶ How Agamemnon sent Achilles, and Thelephus, into the island of Messa for victuals; and how they of the Isle withstood the Greekes, and fought with them; in which battaile the King of Messa was slaine, and Thelephus was made King of Messa, by consent of all the Nobility of the Island.

YOu heard how while Ulisses did soiourne
With Diomed in Troye, what there had past:
And also what King Priam did returne
For answere to the Grecians: who in hast
Vpon the same a generall counsell call,
Where in the full assemblie of them all,
King Agamemnon spake to them, and said
My Lords (as well you know) tis now high time,
That care by vs should speedilie be had,
(And chiefly now while we are in the prime
Of our affaires) for things that needfull are
To serue our turnes, while we maintaine the war
Gainst Troye; and first, that good provision
Of victuals should be made, for if we faile
Thereof, t'will be our owne confusion:
Which to prevent, and better to prevaile
In the enterprise which we as now pretend,
My counsell is, that presently we send
(If you think't good) vnto an jsle hard by
Cald Messa, where great sto [...] of victuals are,
From whence we may in our necessity
Our selues thereof provide, without all care
Of sending into Greece, and to that end
I pray you name whom you will thither send.
With which advise the Grecians all consent.
Agreed amongst themselues that Thelephus
And with him stout Achilles should be sent
To th'jsle of Messa rich and populous,
For victuals to suffice them and their host,
And for to bring it thence, what ere it cost.
At which time in that fertile Island raignd
King Tenteran, that valiantly by might
The Scepter and the Crowne thereof obtaind,
And had with iustice, equity, and right,
Long ruled in the same in peace and rest,
Till Grecians did his quiet state molest.
Though some men do affirme that Messa lies
Within the bounds of the Sicilian King,
And that the name of Messa signifies,
Aboundance great, and store of every thing
Which therein grew, and that it had the name
From Messena, a Citie in the same.
Exceeding rich and plentifull, from whence
Great store of ships and vessels laden were
With victuals, which they did convay from thence
To everie place and Countrie farre and neere:
Which for such wares as to that jsle they brought
They did excange, and of those people bought.
And some men say, that Messa named was
Of Messanus a King that rul'd the same,
Who in his time all others did surpasse,
For riches great, exceeding power and fame:
This shall suffice in breife to let you know
What Messa was: and now I will you show,
That when the Grecian Princes had decreed,
That Thelephus and Achilles should be sent
To Messa with three thousand men; with speed
They put to seas, and ere long time was spent
Arriued there, and straight their men did land.
But when the King thereof did vnderstand,
He marched with an army to the strand,
And there with horse and footmen valiantly,
The Grecians power by force sought to withstand,
Giuing the onset most couragiouslie;
And gainst them did a cruell fight maintaine,
Wherein great numbers of their men were slaine
On either side, and many wounded were,
That bleeding on the ground in great distresse
Lay, never likely armes againe to beare:
And in so great a rage and furiousnesse
Each partie did against the other fight,
That long it was ere that perceiue you might,
Advantage twixt them both; so equally
The battaile went, and at that time was fought:
Till in the end the Grecians valiantly
Draue backe their foes, but it avail'd them nought:
For presently they were constrain'd to run,
And backe t'retire with speed againe, to shun
The furie of the enemies that were,
Three to their one, that cruelly then slew,
And made to flie in great distresse and feare,
Which at that time they could not well eschew:
But when with angry mood Achilles saw
His men so fiercely slaine, and forst to draw
Backe to the strond in great extremitie,
With trenchant blade in hand he entered
Amongst the thickest of the enemie,
(Where many of his men in field lay dead,
And others wounded sore, away did flie)
And there behau'd himselfe so valiantlie,
That in short space he had recovered
The field againe, and in most furious mood
Feld, wounded, and before his feet lay dead,
All that he found, or him as then withstood:
And therewithall his men so comforted,
And by his valor great encouraged,
That where before they fled and lost their ground,
Their enemies were forced to retire
And flie to saue themselues, and none was found
That durst withstand his fierce and furious ire:
For who so ere he met was sure to die,
And none escapt, such was his cruelty.
And sure if that his valor, worthinesse,
Exceeding force, and courage passing bold,
Had not prevail'd against the hardinesse
Of Tentrans men, without all doubt they would
That day in field haue slaine the Grecians all.
But he like to a strong & puissant wall
Withstood them, & their ranks so fiercely brake,
That maugre all their power, he made them lie
In heaps before his feet, and way to make:
And at the last when as he did espie,
King Tenteran a braue and valiant Knight,
Like Lyon fierce defend himselfe in fight,
And here and there the Grecians so opprest,
That many of them by him were fiercely slaine,
And beaten downe, and that he never ceast
To overthrow all that he could attaine:
He did not stay, but with most fierce desire,
And heart that burnt with rage as hote as fire,
Made way through thicke and thin, & round about
Him kild his foes so fast on every side,
That at the last he found King Tentran out
Whereas he fought, and with exceeding pride,
Gaue him a blow so fiercely on the crest,
That't made his head bend down vnto his brest.
And then againe his blow redoubled,
And with the same so deepely did him wound,
That therewithall most grievously he bled,
And with a thrid blow stroke him to the ground:
And then from off his head his helmet rent
In furious wise, with purpose and intent
To strike it off, and to that end did heaue
His hand on high with bloody sword to giue
The Fatall blow, that should his life bereaue.
(So much the slaughter of his men did grieue
Him at the heart, which he perceiu'd was made
By him alone, and that he onely had
Been cause thereof.) But ere the blow did fall,
Young Thelaphus that did by chance perceiue
What he would doe, to him in hast did call,
And stepping forth did on his shield receaue
The stroake, and did Achilles friendly pray,
At his request his furious mood to stay:
And for a while in Knightlie curtesie
To grant him life, sith wounded sore he lay
Before his feet, and ready was to die.
For every Knight (saith he) his wrath should stay,
And on his foe some pittie ought to haue,
When he in humble wise doth mercie craue.
To whom Achilles said, I marvaile why
You seeme to craue that I should mercie show
To him, and spare his life, who furiously
With pride (which in his heart did overslow)
Would not vnto our just request giue eare,
But without cause did armes against vs beare?
And with disdaine and meere presumption,
The Grecians in most furious wise assaild,
Though now against his expectation,
He findeth that it hath him nought availd:
And he himselfe is fallen into the snare
Which for vs (as he thought) he did prepare.
Though we deseru'd no such thing at his hand,
As having no intent him to molest,
Nor yet by force t'invade him or his land.
So that if now he finds himselfe opprest,
He can it not deny, but must confesse
His rash attempt deserved hath no lesse.
But Thelaphus againe did him require,
Of knight-hood to take pittie on the King,
And for that time to grant to his desire,
For while (said he) my father was living,
He and king Tentran were confederate,
Though here as now he lies in woefull state,
With pale and deadlie face vpon the ground,
Expecting when his soule shall hence depart:
And for that heretofore I haue him found
To beare a noble mind and Royall heart,
When I by chance past through his countrey,
Where he with all his Lords and chivalry,
(Received and feasted me most Royally
In every place where I did ride or goe
Within his land.) So that humanitie
Binds me the like vnto him now to show:
And in my mind his curtesie to beare,
Least men should say, that to vnkind I weare,
Which might heereafter turne to my disgrace.
Wherefore that I in part may him requite,
I you beseech take pittie on his case,
And spare his life as yo'are a noble knight.
Whereto Achilles presently did yeild,
And there before his souldiers in the field,
King Tenteran vnto Thelaphus did giue,
To do with him as he should thinke it best.
Who to behold him in that case did grieue,
And at his heart with sorrow was opprest
To see there was no other remedie,
But that of force he could not choose but die.
And when the sonne vnto the Westerne part
With speed declind, the battaile at an end,
And Tenteran did feele great paine and smart,
Yet no reliefe his woefull state could mend,
For that his wounds still more & more did bleed▪
His men made all the hast they could with speed
To beare him thence vnto his court with ease▪
And to that end they for a litter sent
And layd him in't, and while he past the prease,
Thelaphus and Achilles by him went,
And to his Royall Pallace him contraid,
Where in his bed when as they had him laid?
Perceiving that he drew vnto his end,
For that his vitall spiri [...]s [...] to faile,
And nature vnto him no force could lend,
Nor surgery, no [...] Phisike, ought prevaile,
Nor any comfort no [...] reliefe was left
To him, as then of worldly joyes bereft▪
For Thelaphus and Achilles he did send,
And with a voice most feeble, faint, and weake,
And sighs and teares fast drawing to his end,
In woefull wise he did vnto them speake,
And said, my Lords, health, honor, high degree,
All worldly joy, and great prosperitie,
I wish vnto you both with all my hart,
But specially to thee Prince Thelaphus,
Who at this time such favor doth [...]mpart
To me, and art so kind and gratious,
That in my paines so grieuous and so strong,
Thou seek'st my life if't might be to prolong,
But now alas there is no remedie
But die I must, and can it not withstand,
For as you see here prostrate I doe lie
Expecting th'hower, when from deaths cruell hand
The fatall blow will come to pierce my hart,
And that my soule out of my corps shall part;
To make an end of all my miserie,
Which so much more increaseth in my hart,
To see the hower of death approach so nie,
And that out of this world I must depart,
And leaue no heires within this Isle to raigne,
The Crowne and Scepter thereof to maintaine
When I am dead, which by that meanes (alas)
I feare will soone be spoyld and ouer-run,
Which I full loath would be should come to pas,
Sith that at first with labour great I won
And conquered it, and ever since by might
And warlike force maintained haue my right
Gainst all my foes, for many yea [...]es now past.
Yet once it had been lost without recure▪
And I from thence had vtterly been chast,
But that I did the aid and helpe procure
Of Hercules the stout and valiant Knight,
Who by his extreame force and passing might
(Which at this day is fresh in memorie,
And while the world indures shall ever bee)
Orecame and vanquished my enemie,
And did againe restore this Isle to mee.
And while he liu'd the feare of him was such,
And every man respected him so much,
That spight of all my foes, I did enioy
My Scepter and my Crowne in peace and rest,
And no man durst by word and deed annoy
My quiet state, nor me in ought molest.
Whereby it doth appeare this little Isle
Belongs vnto the Kingdome of Cicile.
Where Hercules did place two pillars great,
(Which at this day are extant to be seene)
And for perpetuall memorie there set,
To show how farre he in that land had beene▪
Which pillars some men cald Columnia,
And others did them name Herculea.
Which Island once was in subiection
Vnto the Mores, and long time so remaind:
But after by the valiant Romaines won,
When they th'jmperiall diadem obtaind
Of all the world, and by their puissance
Their names & fames did farre & wide advanc [...]
And after many valiant Conquerors
Succeeded had each other by degree,
And of the Towne of Roome been Emperors,
And therein ruld with power and Majestie:
One Fredericke the second of that name,
That sometime was an Emperor in the sam [...]
And King of Cicile by inheritance,
Because he did a great affection beare
Vnto that Isle, and in remembrance
Perpetuall of him, therein did reare
And make a huge and mightie Tower of bricke,
With wal [...]es that were exceeding strong & thicke.
And cause the aire was pleasant, good, & sweet▪
And that therein great store of flowers were▪
Some Authors doe report he named it
The new faire land, which name long time it beare▪
And was therein by vse continued,
Till that the Emperor Fredericke was dead.
But to returne vnto King Tenteran,
Whē he had vs [...] [...]e speech which you haue heard,
And that he did perceiue his life began
To draw vnto an end, and therewith feard
The stroake of death, with pale and deadly cheare
To Thelaphus he spake as you shall heare:
My sonne (sayd he) sith I from hence must passe
And leaue this world, (for neither force, nor might,
Intreaty, presents, pardon, nor yet grace
Can saue my life) as equitie and right
Requires the same, here in the audience
Of all my Lords, to cleare my conscience,
I tell thee, that the worthy valiant Knight
Thy Father Hercules, once conquered
This [...]and by his valor and his might,
And when that he therein had stablished
A perfect peace, and all things quiet were:
Because he did to me affection beare,
He freely did assigne and giue to me
The regall crowne and scepter of the same,
With all the Princely power and dignite
That thereunto belong'd, or he could claime,
And of him I it held I must confesse,
So that his state therein was nere the lesse.
And now for loue of him sith I must die,
I giue to thee that which from him I had,
Which is the Crowne and soveraignty
Of this same Isle, and likewise as he made
Me King thereof, I also thee create
King in my stead, to maintaine the estate
And dignity thereof while thou do'st l [...]ue,
And to thine heires for ever to remaine,
(Though) I confesse the thing which I thee giue,
Before vnto thy selfe did appertaine
By true descent and right paternall line,)
As Hercules did giu't to me and mine.
And to that end he sayd vnto them all
That round about him stood, I doe declare,
That sith the Gods out of this world do call
Me hence without an heire, and that you are
Left destitute of one to be your guide,
(To th'end that you all care should set aside,)
I heere doe make my will and Testament▪
And by the same do grant assigne and giue
My scepter, crowne, and regall ornament
To Thelaphus, to hold't while he doth liue,
And after to his heires by true discent,
Which sith it is my will and my intent,
I pray you all, as soone as I am dead,
Without delay let it performed be,
And set the regall crowne vpon his head,
And honour him as you haue honord me.
And after hauing written what he sayd,
He pawsd a little while, and then he praid,
And hartily desired Thelaphus,
That presently assoone as he was dead,
Of Knight-hood for to be so courteous,
To cause his body to be buried
With royall pompe and Princely funerall,
Fit for a King, and then turn'd to the wall,
And suddenly fell Parcas cut in twaine
This thred of life, and made him yeild his goast.
(Which as the Poets in their fables faine,
Straight tooke her way vnto Th'lizian coast.)
Whose body feard, and balm'd with [...]ut delay,
King Thelaphus a tombe of Marble gray
Caus'd to be made in rich and sumptuous wise,
Whereon in golden letters he did place
An Epitaph, (the which he did devise
To show how Tentran died, and what he was,
And how he gaue his crowne to Thelaphus,)
Whereof th'effect, In verses six, was thus:
Here lies King T [...]ntrans body in this tombe,
Who by Achilles cruelly was kild
In fight, but ere of death he had his dombe,
By testament to Thelaphus he wild
And freely gaue the Crowne and Soveraignty
Of Messa Isle, and so in peace did die.
Which being done, and every other thing
Performed with great pompe and royalty,
And Thelaphus of Messa crowned King
By full consent of the Nobility:
And fealtie and homage to him made,
As they before to T [...]ntran promist had,
Achilles straight vnto his ships did carry
All things that he would aske, desire, or haue,
That for the Grecians turnes were necessary,
As Corne, and Wine, such as the soyle there gaue▪
Flesh, fish, fruits, fowles of every kind such store,
That he could not desire nor wish for more.
And order with King Thelaphus did take,
That he should there remaine to rule the land▪
And when occasion seru'd provision make,
Of such things as the Greek [...] in need did stand,
That at all times in their necessitie,
Of victuall they well furnished might be.
Though willingly he would haue gone againe,
With him to Troy, but that Achilles pra [...]'d
And hartely desird him to remaine
In Messa, that he might the Grecians ayd
When they in any need should stand, & straight
With all his ships with victualls fully fraught,
He sayld to Troy againe, and soone did land
At Tenadon, and there relation made
What entertainment they in Messa found,
And how King Tentran then resisted had,
And valiantly the Grecians power assaild,
And without doubt against them had prevaild.
(As hauing three men to their one) but he
By valor slew King Tentran in the field,
Who being brought vnto extremitie,
And at the point of death, himselfe did yeild.
And how before he died, he did consent
And order tooke by will and testament,
That Thelaphus should king of Messa be,
Whereto the whole Nobility agreed,
And Crowned him with great solemnitie.
And how that he had left him there, when need
Requird to make provision
Of victualls, and of munition.
And lastly shewd what victualls he had brought
With him from thence, to serue them presently,
Assuring them they need not doubt that ought
Should want to ayd them in necessitie.
Wherewith the Greeks well pleas'd, did much esteem
Achilles for his valour, thanking him
That he therein had been so dilligent,
And brought his charge vnto so good a passe,
Which done, he road vnto his tent,
Where he with great applause receaued was,
And welcomed of all his men, as glad
That he from Messa safe retourned had.
But now for that mine Author turnes his stile,
And leaues the Grecians power at Tenadon.
And of the Tr [...]ns actions for a while
Doth speak▪ to show what they meane time had don
To fortifie themselues against their foes,
And then at large particularly shoes
What force they had procur'd, and severally
The names of all the Princes doth declare
That came to Troy, and there couragiously
Their ayd did lend to Prians in the warre.
Which he so long and valiantly maintain'd
Against the Greeks, and finally obtain'd
(Although at last t'was his destruction)
Eternall fame, which death could ne're deface,
Nor tract of time put in oblivion,
But mongst the rancks of worthies doth him place▪
I will them orderly each one declare,
And show what several names & armes they bare.
And first he saith, three Kings of noble fame
Came vnto Troy to ayd King Priamus,
Their countries he omits, but doth them name
Andrastrus, Tapor, and King Pandarus,
And with them full three thousand Knights they brought,
That valiantly against the Grecians [...]ought.
And from the Isle of Coleson there came
Fiue thousand knights that by foure Kings were led
The first of them King Carras had to name,
(A Prince for valor great much honored)
The second called was Ima [...]ius,
Nestor the third, the fourth Amphimacus.
From Licia land with Glaucus Valerius,
So there came his sonne and heire Prince Sarpedon,
(Both were alied to King Priamus)
Who in those warres great fame and honor won,
And with them three thousand knights did bring,
Well furnish't for the warres of euery thing.
Out of the famous rich Larissian land,
Two Kings there came to ayd the Troyan,
Who with thē brought (the Grecians to withstand,)
A thousand Knights: and from Licacian
The valorous Euphenius their King,
A thousand armed Knights with him did bring,
By Hupon and by Epidus together
Fiue hundred Knights to Troy conducted were:
King Remus also did with him bring thither
Three thousand Knights that silver armes did bear
Out of Tabaria Isle, which distantlay
From Troy, a tedious, long, and dangerous way.
Foure Dukes likewise with all their chivalry,
And Earles eight (that great experience
Had in the warres) came in his cumpany,
Who without any manner difference,
When as they armed were within the field,
Did beare a crest of Gold vpon his shield.
Whereby the King and all that with him came
Were known, although besides thē many a knight▪
Vpon their shields and pennons bare the same,
When they did enter in the field to fight.
From orientall Thracia the King
Cald Pilex, iust a thousand Knights did bring.
And Alchamus a Duke that with him came,
A hundred Knights in his conduction had.
Pre [...]em [...]ssus a King of worthy fame,
Great preparation in Panomie made,
Of men and armes to ayd King Priamus,
With whom a valiant Duke adventurous
Cal'd Stupex was, and in their company
A thousand Knights, all arm'd and furnished
With darts and speares, wherewith they vsually
Doe fight, and are so well e [...]perienced
With them to throw, that when they list they can
Directly strike and kill both horse and man.
By nature they are wild and furious,
And of most cruell, fierce, and angrie mood,
Yet valiant Knights, and very ventrous,
In fight to spill and shed their enemies blood.
Their coūtries full of woods and desart ground,
And nought but trees & groues therein are foūd.
For howses very few or none there bee,
Their lodging is in woods and groues, whereas
Tis sayd men oft and commonly doe see,
(When they along and through the same do passe,)
Most strange and fearefull sights of monsters fell
Not much vnlike the furious fiends of hell.
As Satyres, Faunes, by cornes and incubus,
(And such like shapes of dum Gods as we,
In Poets bookes of tales incredulous,
Doe read within the woods and groues to be,)
Which often times put men in such a feare,
That they doe seeme as out their wits they were.
From Boetine Isle three Dukes together came
In company, all Princes valorous.
The one of them Amphimus had to name,
The other two Samus and Forcius.
And with them full twelue hundred Knights they brought
That valiantly against the Grecians fought.
From Boetine land which doth so much abound
With Spices, gummes, fruits, Corne, wine, & store
Of rare and holsome roots, which there are found,
Whereof no countrie hath the like, nor more.
Two braue and valiant Kings together came,
That Boetes and Epristius had to name,
And with them iust a thousand Knights there were,
And from the land cal'd Paflagonie,
The which as ancient Authors witnes beare,
So farre remote in th'Easterne parts doth lie,
That as they say, it is impossible
To travell to▪t, and cal't inuisible.
Nor that it is not to be seen nor found▪
But onely for because it is so farre,
And yet tis sayd the countrey d [...]th abound
In silver, gold, and precious stones [...]ost rare,
And that vpon a River great it lies,
(Which issues from terrestriall Paradise.)
By name cal'd Tibris nere to E [...]phra [...],
Which Philomene a gyant huge and fell,
Whose admirable stature Guydo sayes
(All other men for greatnes did excell▪)
A thousand Knights in steele all a [...]med were▪
And every one a goodly shield did beare▪
Of Cu [...]rboilie all guilt and farely set
With precious stones, which forth the Rivers cleare
That issue out of Paradise are fet,
And from the Ethiopian land that nere
To India lies, came many a valiant man
With Perses, and King Menon (he that wan
So great renowne and honor by his might,
And with him valiant Sigamon his brother,
Who also was a stout and hardy Knight.)
As Barons, Earles, Dukes, and many other,
Besides three thousand Knights all arm'd in steele
Which caus'd the Greeks full oft their force to feele.
And from the land of Therdo there came
With valorous and wise King Theseus
(That sole and Soveraigne Prince was of the same)
His most renowned sonne Archilagus.
(Who both were of King Pri [...]s royall blood.)
And iust a thousand valiant Knights and good,
Besides two Kings of great renowne and fame,
And passing rich of gold and euery thing
That man can wish, yet none of them doth name,
But saith that that they did from Agrosta bring
A thousand valiant chosen Knights to fight
Against the Greeks, to trie their force and might.
And from Lissinia land which fa [...]re did lie
From Troy, with prudent King Epistrophus,
(Whose fame throughout the world abroad did [...]ie
As knowne to be a Prince most vertuous,
Discret, right wise, and provident withall,
Well learned in the Arts cald liberall.
In warre approu'd a stout and valiant Knight,
A counseller in peace exceeding sage,
And at that time a man of passing might.
Although as then he was well stricken in age,)
A thousand Knights there came in company,
The proud and hauty Grecians to defie.
Besides an Archer strange and monstrous
That with him came, who such proportion had
That to behold him it was maruelous,
For from his Navill vpward he was made
Like man in shape, and downeward like a horse,
And therewithall of most exceeding force.
His vpward part like man proportioned,
Had skin as blacke as cole, and rough as beare,
And was with curled haire cleane covered;
His eies like to a burning furnace were
As red as fier, his face most horrible,
And looke exceeding fierce and terrible.
His vgly shape and diuelish countenance
Was such, it did the Greeks so much dismay,
That whensoere he did himselfe advance
To set on them, they fled and ran away,
And stoutest of them all for feare did quake,
He did so great a slaughter of them make.
Within his hand a bow he alwaies held,
Which he so well could vse and had such skill,
That whosoere he hit to ground he feld,
And thousands of the Grecians he did kill.
That they of him were in no little feare,
As in the storie you at large shall heare.
Thus many Kings and Princes of renowne,
From diuers strange and severall countreis
Farre distant from the famous Troian towne,
Assembled were therein, as enemies
Profest against the Grecians, and to lend
Their ayd vnto King Priamus their friend.
Who with them brought well furnish't for the warr,
Thirty two thousand Knights adventurous,
(Besides their Squiors) that armes & pennons bare
And show'd themselues in field couragions
Against their furious foes, and to conclude
There nere was seene so huge a multitude
Of Knights and Princes great assembled
Within one towne, not counting those that came
From India, nor such as were borne and bread
In Troy, and dwelt as then within the same.
Which were so many and so great a number,
That for to thinke theron twould make men wōder.
And more, if that it be considered right,
It is most sure that since the worlds creation,
Or Phoebus on the earth did cast his light,
There ne're was seen in any Nation
So many Kings and Princes met together,
As on both sids at that same time were come thither
For all the flower of chiualry was there,
Kings, Princes, Dukes, Earles, Barons, Knights, & Squien,
And all their power of men that armes could beare,
With full intent and resolute desires,
Within the towne, for to defend their right:
Without the towne, to win it if they might.
Let them that read and doe peruse this booke,
Consider for what cause this warre began,
And if without vnpartiall eies they looke,
They shall perceiue that many a valiant man,
For small or no occasion lost his life,
In that so needlesse, strange and bloody strife.
For truth to say, for nought this warre began,
And nought there was on either side obtain'd,
For though the Greeks the towne of Troy then wan,
Yet if it be considered what they gain'd,
The storyshewes that when that all was don,
Their reckoning made, they lost more thē they won.
For many thousands of them there were slaine,
And lost their liues before the towne of Troy,
And neuer did returne to Greece againe,
The honor of their victory to enioy.
And those that liu'd and backe to Greece did goe,
Did after end their daies in griefe and woe.
And on each side the flower of Chivalry,
Most woefully did end their fatall daies,
With hundred thousands in their company,
And altogether (as the storie sayes)
That bloody quarrell then did vndertake,
For nought, but for a sillie womans sake.
Great pittie t'was so many Knights should die,
And headlong run vnto destruction,
To end their daies in extreame miserie,
For small, or rather no occasion:
Bettet it were at first to end or cease,
A quarrell of no moment, then t'encrease
In malice, and reuenge for nought to take,
For wise men shold forecast what harmes might hap
nd seeke an end of small debates to make,
Ere that they fall in wauering fortunes lap,
And so procure their owne decay perforce,
And after wish they had tane another course.
It is a vse mongst men when fier doth take
In any house or place, to ring a bell,
Or els some other noyse or signe to make,
Thereby to warne such as about them dwell,
To lend their ayd in that extremitie,
And speedily to seeke for remedie
Before it doth increase to greater fier,
T'were then too late and folly in a man
That comes to helpe, to aske or to inquire
Which way the fier in the howse began,
And to neglect the quenching of the same,
When time doth serue for which he thither came
For danger doth require no delay,
And he that's wise doth commonly forecast
Such dangers as may fall in time, to stay,
For tis too late when as the time is past.
But now ile leaue the Troians for a while,
And to the Grecians armie turne my stile.
You heard that while the Grecians did abide
At Tenedon, how that they all decreed
To send to th'isle of Messa, to provide
Such victualls as their puissant hoast should need,
While they made warre within the Troian laud,
And how Achilles tooke that charge in hand.
Now while that he was gone and staied there,
The noble King Palamides ariued
At Tenedon, with thirtie ships that were
All fild with valiant Knights the which reuiu'd
The Grecians hearts, as glad to see him there,
For that not any one of them but were
Sore grieued that he staied so long behind,
As one they much esteem'd and honoured,
And many of them great fault with him did find
That he had not at Athens mustered.
Suspecting him of partialitie,
But he to cleare himselfe, and satisfie
Their minds, declard in open audience,
The cause whie he to Athens did not goe,
According to his promise and pretence,
And for to proue the same to them did show,
That sickenesse onely had procur'd his stay,
And forst him to absent himselfe away,
So long from them, where with they satisfied,
Excused him for that which he had showne,
And for because they much on him relied,
And honoured him as second vnto none.
Mongst all the Greeks for bounty, power, & wit,
As being one for all attempts most fit:
For whatsoere he once did vndertake,
Most valiantly he would the same effect,
And spight of all that could resistance make.
Nere leaue it off, nor any wise neglect,
Tell that he had acchieu'd his enterprise.
And in regard they knew him to be wise,
And of the greatest reputation
Amongst the Greeks that then assembled were,
They did intreare and pray him to be one
Of those that sit in counsell for the warre:
Which he accepting, they straight waies agreed
For to besiedge the towne of Troy with speed.
But mongst thē questiō grew what time they might
Vnto the towne of Troy most safely goe,
Some sayd they thought it best when it was night
In secret wise to hoyse their sayles, that so
Without resistance of the enemy,
They might take land with most securitie.
But others sayd great dangers might ensue
To them to sayle the River in the night,
And specially because they hardly knew
The ready course, and that by chan [...]r they might
For want of light out of the channell stray,
And so cast both their ships and men away.
Thus being of contrary minds they stayd,
And for that time made no conclusion,
But put it off and still the same delaid,
And tooke not any resolution,
What they would doe, but lay still where they were,
As if their hearts had been possest with feare.
Till valiant Diomedes (grieu'd to see
Them lie so long at rest in Tenadon,
And that they could not mongst themselues agree,
Nor fall to any resolution,
For to besiege the towne of Troy with speed,
As they at first and firmely had decreed)
Sayd vnto them, my Lords whose worthy fame,
Throughout the world both farre & neare doth flie
I cannot chuse but needs I must you blame,
And discommend your great prolixitie,
That let the time thus passe as you haue don
For now a yeare is almost over-run,
And yet you stir not hence in any wise,
But still lie here and giue your enemies cause
To thinke you do't for feare and cowardise,
And which is worse, allow them time to pause
On their affaires, and at their libertie
Taugment their strength, with opportunitie
Vs to withstand and valiantly resist,
Whereof assure your selues they will not faile,
For they not any day nor howre haue mist
To seeke for ayd against vs to prevaile,
And bar their gates & make their walls most strong,
For to withstand asiedge both great and long.
And which is more, they haue their spies to see
And hearken what we doe here in our hoast,
And doe affirme and boldly say, that wee
Dare not effect the thing whereof we boast:
And longer that we in this sort still lie,
It giues more courage to our enemie.
But if we first had held another course,
Ere they had knowne thereof, and ventured
To land our men before their towne by force,
We had the same long since round compassed,
And straight besidge with this our puissant hoast,
And done that, which ere tis done, more wil cost.
For be assurd ere we approacht the strand
T'vnship our men, the [...]le issue out amaine,
With all their power our landing to withstand,
And valiantly the fight gainst vs maintaine,
By force and strength ere we the shoare shall get,
To driue vs thence, if that they can vs let.
Whereas long since we might with ease haue got
The victory, but now by our delay
We must take that which fortune doth alot,
And with more losse to vs, doe what we may.
For now the time's delaid, it is most sure
More danger vnto vs it will procure.
What should I say, but tell you in good troth
That our delay and cowardise will bee
The cause of our great danger, which full loath
And sorry I would be in heart to see.
And if therefore my counsell you will take,
I thinke it best that presently you make
All speed you can for to be gone from hence,
And ere the Sunne in morning doth appeare,
Hoyse sayles and put to Sea, (with full pretence
And courage bold, cleane void of any feare.)
To Sayle to Troy, and there land openly,
What ere falls out, for know assuredly
Without resistance by the Troians made,
(Who valiantly will issue, vs to beard)
There is no landing for vs to be had,
And yet you must not therefore be afeard:
But set all feare and cowardise aside,
And stoutly whatsoere fals out abide.
Which sayd, the Greeks consulting therevpon,
Determined with courage bold to make
What hast they could, and preparation
For to be gou, and straight their course to take
Vnto the towne of Troy, as doth appeare,
And in the Chapter following you shall heare.

CHAP. XII.

¶ How the Grecians landed before Troy, where they were valiantly fought withall by the Tro­ians.

WIthin the former Chapter you did heare,
How that the Greeks in counsell being set,
With full and whole consents agreed were,
All scuses set apart, nought should them let,
With speed vnto the towne of Troy to sayle,
And there the Troians valiantly t'assaile:
And that end to the next day they begun
To go abord their ships, with courage bold,
And when they had all things prepard and don
That needfull were, they did a counsell hold,
T'ordaine among themselues, and to agree
How many ships should in each squadron bee.
And which of them in for most ranke should goe,
What course they should vpon the Seas obserue,
How they would land that no man might it know,
(Thereby their men from danger to preserue,)
Whereto they did assigne a speciall marke,
And so when as by singing of the Larke,
(Which commonly is fore the Sun doth rise
At dawning of the day,) they did awake
And put Sea in braue and warlike wise,
And to the towne of Troy their course did take.
And first a hundred ships well furnished,
With store of men and armes the way did lead;
Whose pennons and rich streamers to behold,
Which on the seas did show most cleare and bright
When they did them against the Sun vnfold,
Gaue vnto all that saw them great delight.
For nere before vpon the waues so greene,
The like triumphant sight had not been seeene▪
An other hundred more sayld orderly
In rancks, to second them that went before,
(Whose sayles most proudly in the wind did flie,
And spread abroad) wherein there was great store
Of valiant Knightts wel arm'd with sword & speare,
The Troians to withstand without all feare.
Next afder them in order brauely ranck't,
The rest of their huge Navy followed,
The which on either side was strongly flank't
With squadrons of great ships well furnished
With valiant Knights, whose number was so many,
That like to it had nere been seen of any
Vpon the Seas, and sayling so together,
(Assisted by Neptune and Eolus,
That sent them both faire wind & pleasant wether,)
Their voiage was to them so prosperous,
That in one tide a sight of Troy they had,
Whereto with all their sayles hoyst vp they made
Whose waving when the Troiaus did behold,
And saw that they drew nere vnto the strand,
And by their countnance well perceiu'd they would
Despight of them (if that they might) take land.
In hast they arm'd themselues, which having don
They mounted on their horses, and did run
As fast as ere they could vnto the strand,
Attending neither Earles, Prince, nor King
To be their guide nor over them command,
But furiously out of the gates did fling.
And in so great a number to behold,
That whē the Greeks thē saw, their harts were cold,
And stoutest of them all was much dismaid,
To find so many Troians on the land
(Well arm'd) that all most resolutely stayd,
With courage bold their comming to withstand.
Whereby they knew and certainely did see,
No landing for them there as thou to bee:
Vnlesse that with the Troians they would fight,
And valiantly adventure for to land,
Or els like cowards take themselues [...]o slight,
And fall into their deadly, enemies hand:
For other refuge for them none there was,
But through the Troians sword [...] & pikes to passe.
Which when King Pr [...]thesilaus did behold,
(Who of an hundred ships the conduct had)
He sayd, that in despight of them be [...]ould
Set foot on land, and to that end [...]e made
His ships and men in readines to venter.
By force, vpon the same strand to ente [...].
But when his Ships set forward to ariue
As nere vnto the shoare as well they might,
The wind did in their sayles so stifely driue,
That on the land by force i [...] did them smight.
And some of them vpon the gittie stroke,
Which presently in many peeces broke,
And most part of the men and ships were drown'd,
And scattered here and there contusedly,
So that but very few of them were found
To make resistance gainst the enemy.
And those that scapt & sau'd theselues frō hurt,
And got to land, all clad with mire and durt:
And for a while their enemies withstood,
Were by the Troians slaine so cruelly,
That all the Sea was stained with the blood
Of Grecians, that vpon the sands did he
Dead bleeding, and sore wounded to the death,
Attending th'end to yeild their vitall breath.
And at that time the arrowes flew so fast
And thicke into the aire, that all the skie
Did show as if it had been ouercast
With some darke cloud, and still and furiously
The Troians fought and euermore renew'd
Their number, and the Grecians so pursu'd,
And for the time so hotly them assayld,
That what defence soever they could make
Availd them not, for Troians still prevaild,
And valiantly constraind them to giue backe.
With losse of many men and great disgrace,
And finally perforce to leaue the place,
Whereas they fought with much extremitie,
And griefe to see their landing proue [...]o bad,
Vnfortunate and dangerous to be,
And yet for all that they indured had,
They fainted not, but still continued
The fight on shoare: for they were seconded
By fresh supply of men that entered
Next them, and with three hundred ships arriu'd
Vpon the shoare, where being ankored,
When as they had the wearied Greeks reuiu'd
That faintly fought scarce able to withstand
The Troians force, they did begin to land,
First placing all their crosoowe shot before,
And next to them their archers orderly,
And such as pikes and other weapons bore,
On either side, with full intent to try
The Troians might, and brauely to adventure,
Despight of them vpon the shoare to enter.
Where twixt them at the first the fight was hot,
And dangerous, till that the Greeks let flie
Their arrowes out their bowes and cro [...]bowe shot,
As thicke as hayle, and with them furiously
The Troians slew: and first then to withdraw
Themselues aside, which when the Grecians saw,
They left their ships, and [...]uing out amaine,
Vpon the Troians valiantly did set,
And by that meanes did win the shoare againe,
Which for that time the Troians could not let,
Though they with howes & arrowes fiercely shot
To driue them backe, but it availd them not.
And then the fight most hotly did renew,
When as the noble King Prothsaulus
Did enter mongst the Troians, and pursue
Them with a courage stout and valorous.
And in the thickest of the presse did slay
Them down so tast, that each man gaue him way
And shun'd his blowes, so many of them were slaine
And wounded sore, whereby the Greeks dismaid,
Began to be incouraged againe,
For had not he by force the Troians staid,
Without all doubt they had before them fled,
And at time that been wholly vanquished.
But what availd his valor and his might,
Or courage bold, when as seaven thousand men,
Were forced on the Grecians side to fight,
Againgst an hundred thousand Troians, then
Allready on the strand them to assayle,
That wonder t'was they could so long prevayle
Against so huge and great a company,
With so few men; but sure you must suppose
It was because they saw no remedie,
(For at their backs the Sea did them inclose,
And fore their face stood the enemie,
So that they thought it best for them to die:
And cowardly with shame their liues to loose)
For running backe they must of force be drownd,
And so resolu'd, they fought against their foes
As long as any way or meanes they found
To ayd themselues, though t'was more then they might,
(For other refuge their was none in sight.)
But all the force they vsd did them no good,
The Troians were so many and so strong,
And slew them (so that men might see their blood,
Vpon the shoare in streames ran downe along,
And at the last draue them vnto the strand,
Whereas they were constrained there to stand,
(Wext weary, and in great distresse, and griefe,)
Fighting to saue their liues (most desperately,)
And there had all been slaine without reliefe,
Or put vnto some great extreamitie,
Had not Prothenor and stout Archelaus
Set foot on land like Knights chivalrous,
And ayded them, but with great difficultie,
The Troiaus shot so fast and did a [...]sayle
Them on all sides with extreamecruelty,
Yet at the last the Grecians did prevaile,
And mauger all their might the shoare they wan,
And then with valant courages began
The Troians hard and freshly to pursue,
In furious wise and with great cruelty,
And then againe the battle did renew,
So hotly, and with such hostilitie,
That all the strand was died into a red,
With blood of those that on each side lay dead.
And therewithall Duke Nestor entered
The battaile with his Knights in order plast,
And proudly and in haughty manner led
Them to assaile the Troians in great hast:
At which time many a valiant Knight was slaine
And wounded sore, and horses in the plaine
Lay dead, and many masterlesse did runne
About the field, and then the arrowes flew
So thicke and close, that for a time the Sunne
Did seeme Ecclipst, so darke the aire did shew,
And many Pikes and Lances broken were,
And many steeds their masters way did beare
Sore bleeding dead, amaisd, and in a sound,
The aire also with noise and crie was fild
Of men that lay halfe dead vpon the ground,
And still they fiercely wounded, hewd, and kild
On either side, and though it grew to night,
Yet would they not surcease nor end the fight.
Sohotly on the other did pursue,
For Prothenor and Archelaus nere left
The Troians with their Trunchan blades to hew,
Till many of them they had of life bereft,
In hope at last the victory to get,
So much their minds vpon reuenge were set.
And therewith fierce King Agalus did land,
To succour and relieue the Grecians,
And with him King Attailu [...] with a band
Of valiant Knights, that charg'd the Troians,
(To whom they were inveterate enemies,)
On every side and in most furious wise,
Kild, wounded, hewd, & beat them downe so fast,
That for to saue their liues they were compeld
To sound retreat, and flie away in fiast,
So many of them were slaine within the field.
And more had bin, had not new troups come down
Of fiesh and valiant Troians from the towne.
All richly arm'd, and every one his shield,
Wherein they bare devises severall,
Who were no sooner entred in the field,
But on the Grecians valiantly they fall:
(With hearts that burnt as hot as any fier,
With envic, hatred, wrath, and furious ire,
To be reveng'd on them for wrongs forepast.)
And at that time so many of them they kild,
And charged them so hotly and so fast,
That to conclude, the Grecians left the field:
And were compeld to flie vnto the strand,
To whose reliefe Ulisses then did land.
Who valiantly (withall the company
He brought with him, and those that were on land
Before he came, and by the enemy
Had forcibly been driuen to the strand.)
With courage bold the Troians did assaile,
And did so much against them then prevaile,
That where before they had the vpper hand,
He made the Troians forcibly retire
With all the speed they might, and leaue the strand.
And with most burning rage and furious ire:
Pursued, draue, and chast them to the plaine
Before the towne, where many of thē were slaine
And wounded sore, and like a Lyon strong
That seeks for prey, with glistring sword in hand
He entred mongst the thickest of the throng,
Where all he met, or durst against him stand,
He wounded, kild, and from their horses threw,
That glad was he, that could his blowes eschew,
Till Philomen the strong and valiant King
Of Paslagon, did enter in the field
With all the Knights that he to Troy did bring,
To ayd the Troians gainst the Greeks, beheld
Ulisses such a massacre to make
Of them. In hand a mighty lance did take,
And brauely setting spurres vnto his horse,
In furious wise did run at him so fast,
That with one blow which was of mighty force,
Both man and horse vnto the ground he cast.
But presently Ulisses rose againe,
And mounting on his horse, road through the plaine.
And on the Troians set so furiously,
That many of them as then by him were slaine;
Which when as King Philomen did espie,
He tooke a lance and ran at him againe
So mightily, and such a blow him gaue,
Therewith, that it his shield in sunder claue,
And pierst his armor through, but bur [...] him not,
And yet the blow vnto the ground him stroke,
But presently vpon his horse he got,
And in his hand a mighty lance he tooke,
And therewith at King Philomen did run
So swiftly, that ere he the blow could shon,
He pierst cleane throgh his shield and armor bright
And in his brest did giue him such a wound,
That sideways from his horse he fell, and light
Vpon his head, which first did touch the ground,
And therewithall most grieuously he bled,
Wherewith his men suppos'd he had been dead,
And tooke him vp and layd him on a shield,
Whereon with danger great they did him beare
Cleane through the Grecians hoast out of the field,
Whereof when as the Troian Knights did heare,
They were abasht, because they did beleeue
He had been dead, and for him much did grieue:
For if that mighty Philomen had not
Been wounded so by fierce Vlisses hand,
Without all doubt the Grecians had not got
So easily out of their ships to laud,
Nor yet so many Troians had been slaine,
As then lay dead both on the strand and plaine.
For while that they the fight did long maintaine,
And valiantly the Grecians did assaile,
And sought to driue them to the strand againe,
Ere that they could by force therein prevaile,
More Grecians in great number got to land,
And forcibly the Troians did withstand.
Conducted by foure Kings of great renowne,
The first King Agamemnon (generall
Of all the Greeks,) and proud King Thelamon,
King Thoas, and King Menclaus (cause of all
That deadly warre) at whose aproach you might
Behold the death of many a valiant Knight.
And at that time the broken lances flew
Into the aire, and clouen shields did lie
Vpon the ground, and then they did renew
The fight so hotly, strong, and furiously:
That in short space the strand, and all the plaine
Lay full of Knights, and men that then were slain.
And though the Greeks at that time did abide
Great losse of Knights, yet cause they were so strōg,
The greatest losse fell on the Troians side,
Who nere the lesse fought valiantly and long,
And held the Grecians [...]ort for all their might,
Till that the valiant, fierce, and worthy Knight
Prothesilaus, (Who all that day had fought
Couragiously, and many Troians slaine,
And with his sword in cruell wise had wrought
Them great despight, both on the strand, & plaine)
To rest himselfe, and take the ayre did ride
Out of the field vnto the water side,
Where when he did off from his horse alight,
And saw his men he dead vpon the ground,
Who at their landing had been slame in fight,
And others by the raging waues then drownd.
He could not chuse out weepe to thinke thereon,
And for a while sat musing still alone,
And more he them beheld, the more he grieu'd,
Till at the last (when he by proofe did find
That by [...] griefe they were no whit relieu'd,
Nor he himselfe the q [...]uetter in mind.)
Such su [...]a [...]ne ire [...]s valiant heart possest,
That from that time he could not be in rest,
But vow'd to be revenged if he might,
And to require their deaths vpon his foes,
Orels as it becomes a valiant Knight
Couragiously his life with them to lose;
And [...]o resolu'd, Ieapton his horse againe,
And furiously road straight vnto the plaine,
And entring mongst the thickest of his foes
Assayled them, with trenchant blade [...] hand,
And valiantly beat downe and kild all those
That met with him, or durst against him stand.
And in short space he did so many stay,
That every man was glad to run away▪
Like sheepe before the wolfe, their hues to saue,
But he still wounded, kild, and beat them downe,
And like a stout and valiant Champion draue,
And followed them all most vnto the towne:
And by that meanes the Greeks then victors were
And Troians fied before them in great feare.
Till Persius King of Ethiopia,
Out of the towne with many a valiant Knight
Came ryding in great bast, and made them stay,
And then began a fresh and furious fight,
Wherein great store of Grecians then were slaine,
And many of them lay wounded on the plaine.
The Troians at that time so siercely fought,
When by the Ethiopian Knights they were▪
Relieu'd, so that where as before they sought
To flie away, to saue their liues in feare:
They made the Greekes loose all the ground again
Which they before had won vpon the plaine.
And with their horse and foot-men did assaile
Their enemies so strongly and so close,
That all the Greekes could doe, might not prevaile,
But that at last they were constrain'd to lose
Their ground, and backe vnto the strand to flie
In great despaire, and much extremitie▪
And without doubt had there been drown'd & [...]
Had not the valiant King Palamides
With new supply refreshed them againe,
(And thereby did their heavy hearts appease▪)
Who at that time with all his Knights tooke l [...]d,
Where hauing horsed them vpon the strand,
And ranckt his men, he entred valiantly,
With so great force amongst the Troians,
And them assaild with such dexterity,
(That where before they slew the Grecians
And draue them downe before them to the sho [...],)
He kild and wounded many of them so sore,
And kept them to't so close, that neither side
As then advantage had, and so it held
Vntill that King Palamides espied
Stout Sigamond in middest of the field:
Who all that day most like a valiant Knight,
Behau'd himselfe against the Greekes in fight,
Couragiously, and beat them downe so fast,
That glad they were to shun his blowes and flie,
And by his prowesse only where he past
Great store Grecians slaine by him, did lie.
To whom he road and furiously when as
Amongst the thickest of the Greeks he was,
He gaue him with his lance so great a wound
Into his side, that being deadly hurt,
He fell off from his horse vnto the ground,
And there all groueling in the mire and durt,
(His armor with his blood cleane covered read)
He left him mongst the Troians pale, and dead.
And forth he road and kild, and wounded sore
All those he met, or that before him stood,
And like vnto a wild and cruell Bore,
With sword in hand, dyed, in the Tr [...] blood.
He made them leaue the water side againe,
And draue them all before him to the plaine.
Where with his Knights that still about him [...]
He did assayle them in such furious wise,
And by his valor put them in such feare,
That mongst them there was heard great noyse and cr [...]
Of those that wounded sore could not withstand,
The blowes of fierce Palamides strong hand.
Who all that day had fought so valiantly,
And wounded, kild, and brauely beaten down
The Troians, that at last he made them flie
In all the hast they could vnto the towne:
With cries and shouts, and in great feare & doubt,
Whereat Prince Hector mou'd, in hast came out
With countenāce fierce, (like Mars the god of warr
As beeing of all Worthies, worthiest
That ever any earthly woman bare,
And of all men the strong'st and hardiest.
For as the Sun with beames most cleare & bright
Excells the starres, so did this worthy Knight
Surpasse all other Knights that ever were.
And sure it was a most delightfull sight
To see him arm'd, so brauely he did beare
Them, when he road into the field to fight:
Wherein he was a Load-stone, and a guide
(To all and every Knight both farre and wide.)
Who entring richly arm'd into the field,
Vpon a lusty, strong, and goodly steed,
Did for his armes beare on a golden shield,
Three furious Lyons passant as I read.
(But what the colours were I doe not know,)
The which did make a faire and gallant show
Vpon the brest of that most worthy Knight.
When as with all his troopes he entered
Amongst the Greeks, at whose aproach the sight
Of him alone abasht them all, he led
Them through the thickst of them so furiously,
And therewithall such mightie blowes let flie:
And kild, beat downe, and wounded them so fast,
That no man could his mightie force withstand,
And in despight of all the Greeks he past
Couragiously with glistring sword in hand,
And severed all their rancks, and neuer left
Till hundreds of their liues he had bereft.
Still ryding too and fro throughout the field,
And beat and bare downe all that in his way
He found, and at the last as he beheld
Prothesilaus, (who valiantly that day
Kild and pursued the Troians furiously,
And beat them downe with extreame cruelty.
(Such mortall hatred vnto them he had,)
And to his valiant chivalry tooke heed,
And saw what slaughter of his men he made,
He was so mou'd, that straight he turn'd his steed
To him, and with his bloody sword he gaue
Him such a blow, that it in sunder claue
His helmet and his head, and did not rest
But past through every sinew, bone, and vaine
That were within his body and his brest,
And forcibly did cut him cleane in twaine,
And with that fatall blow and deadly wound,
His body in two parts fell to the ground
On each side of his horse. Which done, he road
Amongst the Grecian Knights couragiously,
And bath'd his trenchant sword within their blood.
So that as farre as ere they could him spie,
They fled to saue their liues, for none durst stand
To feele the waight of his victorious hand.
They feard it so, and more did it admire,
It t'was so strong and of such passing might,
And for that cause they askt, and did inquire
What Knight he was that did so brauely fight:
Supposing that in all the world so round,
A worthier Knight was not for to be found,
Vnlesse it were Prince Hector. And at last
They felt too well by proofe that it was he:
(Who in his daies all other Knights surpast,
As th'onely Myrror of all chivalry.)
For none of all the Grecians durst adventer
Against him hand to hand in fight to enter.
Of all that day so terribly he beat
And draue them downe before them to the strand
Sore wearied, wounded, breathlesse, and all wet,
Close to the Sea, whereas he let them stand.
And like a most triumphant Knight went backe
To Troy againe, his rest a while to take.
Who being gone, the Greeks somewhat releast
Of former feare, perplexitie, and griefe,
Began againe to vow and to protest,
If fortune would vouchsafe them some reliefe,
With valiant hearts to venture life and lim
Vpon their foes▪ the field againe to win.
The which from morning that the fight begon,
With great and extreame labor, losse, and paine,
Eight times that day they valiantly had won,
And lost the same as many times againe.
For as Dame fortunes slippery wheele turn'd round,
So they that day did win, and lose there ground.
But Hectors valiant entry in the field,
Was th'onely thing that did them most dismay,
Who spight their hearts [...] such a bay them held,
That none of them before his face durst stay:
For he alone, with sword in hand did driue
Them to the place where first they did ariue.
And closely held them there with great despight,
As long as he did in the field remaine,
Which was till that it gan to draw to night,
At which time he returnd to Troy againe.
But then more Greeks vpon the shoare ariu'd
With cruell fierce Achilles, which reuiu'd
And comforted the Grecians hearts so well,
That they againe assaild the Troians,
And by Achilles ayd (which did excell
In valor all the other Grecians,)
They beate them backe and draue them to the plaine,
And by that meanes did win the field againe.
In which conflict Achilles did pursue
The Troians in such wise, that he onely
For his part many hundreds of them slew,
And at that time had in his company
Three thousand knights in glistring armor bright
Who likewise were so hot and fierce in fight,
That with their Prince (th'only champion
Of all the Greeks) they [...]lew their foes so fast,
And cruelly not sparing any one,
That many of the Troians fled in hast
To saue their liues, such was their rage and ire
Which in the Grecians hearts, did burne like fire,
Against the Troian Knights, but specially
Achilles tooke great pleasure and delight
To beate them downe, and to behold them lie
In heapes vpon the ground, and with despight
That day to die and bath his sword in blood,
(Which in the plaine ran like vnto a flood.)
Such hatred in his heart he did conceiue,
And still increast it with such cruelty,
That nothing but their deaths could it bereaue
Out of his mind, the which to satisfie
He never left with all his Knights so fast
To kill, beat downe, and wound them: that at last
With dreadfull noyse and cries he made them run
Vnto the gates of Troy, where while they fought
To saue their liues, and therewithall to s [...]un
His fierce and cruell blowes, it holp them nought.
For that meane time the Grecians got to land
Withall their power and force, and from the strād
Marcht with so great a multitude of men,
That th'onely sight of them did terrifie
The Troians fearefull hearts, but much more when
They saw that with most great extremitie
They could not chuse but must perforce abide,
A hard and cruell fight on every side.
Which by the Grecian Knights couragiously
Was giuen, so that with hearts discouraged
And cleane dismaid, they were constraind to [...]
Into the towne, where as they entered:
Achilles did so hotly them pursue,
That many of them before the gates he slew.
And at that time made such occision
And slaughter of the Troians, that at last
It would haue been their whole destruction
And vtter overthrow, if that in hast
The worthy valiant Knights and chivalrous,
Paris, Deiphobus, and young Troielus,
With many Troian Knights in company,
Had not come forth, to ayd them in their need,
Who gainst the Grecians fought so valiantly,
That in short space despight of them they freed
The Troians from distresse, and did constraine
The Grecians to retire in hast againe
Backe from the walles: for worthy Troielus
So valiantly himselfe that time did quite,
And shewd a heart so stout and valorous,
That whosoere with sword or launce he hit,
He did him either wound, cast downe, or slay,
And causd the Greeks for feare to make him way,
And by that meanes the Troians succoured.
At which time when Lucina cleare and bright,
Shewd forth her face, and day surrendred
Her place vnto obscure and glooming night:
Achilles with the Greeks road to his tent
To rest himselfe, the Troians likewise went
Into the tow [...]e of Troy, where as in hast
Their gates were shut and barricadoed sure
And round about their walles great watches plast
That able were long gainst their foes t'indure.
Meane time King Agamemnon wisely chose,
And pointed out a place for to inclose
His army, and intrencht it round about
With ditches, walls, and palisadoes strong,
And for each Prince and Captaine quartred out
Their lodgings, and their courts of guard, & moog
Them did appoint his officers to see,
That every man in order plast should bee
Within the same, and presently they made
Their tents, and rich pavilions to be pla [...]st
And speedily set vp, and such as had
No tents wherewith to shrowd themselues, in hast
Built cabins, shades, and cotages to keepe
Themselues from wind and weather, & to slepe
And rest therein, and all that night vnshipt
Their horses, and their furniture for warres,
And no occasion, time, nor hower ore- [...]ipt
Their victualls to vnlade, and to prepare
All other things, and to their tents to carry,
That which for such a siedge was necessarie.
Which don, their ships in warlike wi [...]e they plast
Within the Port, and then with cables strong▪
Vpon the land to getties made them fast,
With full intent to hold a siedge so long,
And puissant, before the tovne of Troy,
That in the end they would it cleane destroy,
And vtterly deface▪ which to effect,
Each one with vowes protested for his part
While life should last all danger to reiect,
And with a courage stout and noble heart,
There to remaine and resolutely lie,
Till t'were perform'd, or valiantly to die.
And so with burning fiers bright and cleare,
And minstrels that both loudly plaid and song,
That night they held a watch by such as were
Fresh▪men, and had not fought all that day long,
Appointing new supplies for to relieue
And second them, if th'enemies should giue
Them battaile, or assaile them in the night.
And such as at their landing wounded were,
And those that all that day had held the [...]ght,
And valiantly the Troyans force did beare,
Did rest, and in their tents and cabin [...]s slept,
While others in the campe straight watches kept.
And so till that with clouds of crimson die,
The sun began in th'orient to apeare,
And spread his beames throughout the Cristall skie
The valiant Greekes abandoning all feare,
Incamped layd attending the euent
Of doubt full wa [...]re, with full and whole intent,
T'effect their wills, what ere to them befell:
Where for a night ile leaue them in the field,
And orderly at large vnto you tell,
What further course on either side was held
During the siedge without, and eke within
The towne. And so my third Booke ile begin.
FINIS.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF HECTOR.
THE THIRD BOOKE.

CHAP. I.

I Shewing the first battayle fought between the Tro­ians and the Grecians after they had planted their siedge before the Towne; wherein Hector beha­ved himselfe most valiantly aboue all others.

WHen with avading, pale,
and deadly light,
Auroraes face lay
covered ore with shade
Of th'obscure cold, and darke,
and glooming night.
And in her cheekes a ruddy colour had,
As blushing sore for shame for to be seene,
Because that she too long [...]n bed had beene
With Phoebus her most deare and chosen Knight,
For which she was so much abasht, that she
Did for a while absent her selfe from sight
Of any man, vntill such time as he
With Flego [...]te his lusty steed had gon,
And swiftly mounted boue the horrison.
And with his radiant beames most bright & cleare
Had comforted her heart, with shame opprest,
And made her change her sad and heauy cheare.
That is, when Titan mounting in the East,
The dawning of the day once past, did rise
And shew his face within the christall skies.
Hector the most renowned champion,
Who for his valor great (surpassing all
That euer liu'd,) the chiefe command in towne
Next Priam had, and also Generall
Of all the Knights assembled at that time
Within the same: When day was in the prime
Commanded all that in the towne then were,
Both Princes, Kings, Knights, squiers, & every one
That able was to fight and armor beare,
Without exception vnto any one;
In hast to meet him with their troopes of men
Before Dianaes Temple, which as then
Stood in the midst of Troy, within a plaine
Of great and spacious breadth, wherein he ment
To mustar them, and also to ordaine
Such battailes as he would should forth besent
That day against th'incamped Greeks to fight,
To driue them thence againe, if that he might.
In this faire plaine in midst of Troy so set
At his command, in braue and warlike wise,
The Troian Princes all together met,
Each with such standerds, pennons, and devise
As vsually in battaile they did beare,
And on their coats of Armes, & shields did weare.
To tell what armes each Prince & Knight then had,
Would be ore long and tedious to declare,
Most sure it is▪ each one prouision made
Of every thing that's needfull for the warre:
Each severall people, Province, Land, or nation,
Bearing such armes as was their ancient fashion.
Some had their Canvas Cassocks or their Iacks,
That plated were with steele, & some then came
With ancient Almaine rivets on their backs,
Their sleeues of male and goriets of the same:
Some coats of male, some caps of steele did weare,
And in their hands a bill or holberd beare.
Some in their compleat armes were brauely clad,
With Poldrons, & with Vanbras, & what more
Thereto belond'g, and on their heads they had
Their Caskets, with their Beavers close before,
Throgh which (being shut) they might their foes be hold,
And let thē fall to breath when as they wold.
Some gantlets had, some not to overlade
Themselues with armes the easier to fight,
Had quilted Iacks that were of Canvas made,
And covered ore with silke most braue to sight:
Some Iepons had, some hauberions, and some
Into the field with Cassocks long did come
Downe to their knees, & in their hands did beare
Round Targets made of bone or else of wood,
The which all ore with Leather covered were:
And some their enemies furious force withstood
With shields of steele, of length frō head to foot.
Some with their bows & arrows fiercely shoot.
Some with their swords, some with their darts in hād
Some with a foure squar'd headed Pollax fight;
And some with Cros-bows & with Pikes do stand
Prepar'd to show their valor and their might:
And every one desiring for to doo't,
Stood ready there on horsbacke, or on foot,
After the manner of his Country.
And while they staid each one his armes did mend,
In every place whereas necessitie
Requir'd the same, the better to defend
His body: but in tearmes of Art to show
What there vnto belongs, or let you know
More touching this▪ I must my selfe excuse,
And pardon craue if therein I do misse;
For sure tis not the thing which I doe vse,
A Pen (and not a Pike) my weapon is:
Tis want of skill breeds imperfection
In me, to make a right description
Thereof, in marshall tearmes as some men could,
But vnto him that's wise I will referre
My selfe herein, and pray him that he would
His censure mildly in this case deferre:
And such defects as he shall iustly find,
To winke thereat, and beare them in his mind.
When Hector had them all well viewd, and saw
What power assembled in the field there was,
With speed he did each one command to draw
Aside, and then in ranks he did them place;
Which done, in marshall wise he did ordaine
His battailes orderly within the plaine.
And then he caus'd the gate Dardanides
To be vnbard, and to be opned wide,
Intending thereat gainst his enemies
To salie forth, and valiantly to bide
A battaile whatsoever did befall.
And then his Bastard brother he did call;
That had to name Cincinabor the stour,
And valiant Glaucus Prince of Licia Land,
To whome (by him) of purpose chosen out,
He did appoint the leading of the band:
Which first that day against the Greeks in field
Should fight, to which they willingly did yeeld.
And in that wing a thousand knights there were,
Which purposely he chose out of them all,
And did command them valiantly to beare
The forefront of the battaile, and to fall
Couragiously vpon their Grecian foe;
Which said, out at the gate he bad them go [...]
Who with their banners spred that shined bright,
Their armors and their sheilds that glistered
Against the Sun, did make a goodly sight,
When they vpon the enemie were led.
But least that they should be opprest by might,
And overlayd by multitudes in fight;
To second them, he did appoint a band
Of valiant Knights that iust a thousand were▪
Commanding it in readines to stand
To succour them, and Grecians force to beare
If need requir'd. The charge whereof he gaue
Vnto the King of Thrace stout and braue.
And with him ioynd his Son Ar [...]ag [...],
A Prince endowed with good qualities,
For he was wise and very vertuoues
Strong and most hardy gainst his enemies:
Those two the second wing together [...]d,
And valiant [...] followed.
The battaile that next after issued
Out of the towne against the enemie,
By Hector was commanded to beled,
By two braue Kings of worthie memorie:
The one the Phrigian King cald Zantippus,
The other ioynd with him cald Alcanus.
In it three thousand knights well arm'd there were,
All resolutelie bent to trie their might
Against the Greekes, and everie one did beare
A severall armes, which was no small delight
To those that stood to see them passe, arraid
So gallantly, with banners broad displaid.
Then Hector cald his brother Troyelus,
(A Knight of great desert and worthy fame,
And one that was so stout and valorous,
That every man extold him for the same:)
To whome he gaue the charge and goverment
Of those that he within the third wing sent.
That day against the Greekes wherein there was
Three thousand braue gallant & Knights, that were
All yong and of couragious hearts, such as
At other times him company did beare:
Who as he passed forward, Hector staid,
And lovingly spake vnto him, and said.
Brother (quoth he) my care of thee is such,
(Moou'd therevnto by perfect amitie)
That though I know thy valor to be much,
(And therein take a great felicitie)
For every man for it doth thee commend,
And shall do till this mortall world doth end.
Yet when I thinke vpon thy valiantnes,
And cald to mind thy yong and tender yeares,
Which commonly are given to wilfulnes,
I fall into a thousand kind of feares;
Least that thy courage fierce and violent,
Should make thee of thy life so negligent,
By over great presumption of thy might
And pride of heart, that it would thee perswade,
With ease to shun what ere on thee should light,
And out of all extreamities to wade:
Regarding neither hurt nor safety,
If once thy youthfull bloud should moued be.
Reposing trust in fortune mutable,
Which turns her wheele now vp, then downe again,
And evermore is crosse and variable
In warre: when men thin [...] honour to obtaine.
Which causeth me full oftentimes to wake
When I should sleepe, and care for thee to take.
Fearing thy great and hastie wilfulnesse.
But deare and louing brother I thee pray,
What ere befals thee in thy hardinesse,
To haue regard vnto thy selfe this day:
And following of thy enemies, take care,
Thou entrest not into their troopes so farre,
That thou canst not relieue thy selfe againe.
Let reason rule thy hote and furious mind,
And bridle thy affection with her raine,
Least thou an vnexpected danger find.
And giue our enmies cause to laugh and geere,
At thy so great misfortune, brother deare.
And so beseeching Mars the God of warre,
This day and evermore thee to defend
From all mishap, and of thee to haue care.
Against thy Grecian foes I doe thee send
To trie thy force, wishing with heart to thee,
As to my selfe, triumphant victorie.
To whome this valiant, fierce, and hardy Knight
Young Troyclus, (whome no adversitie,
Could ever daunt) with heart most fierce & light,
Made answere with most great humilitie:
And yet with countnance glad & ioyfull cheare.
Saying my Lord, and my good brother deare;
Ift please the Gods I will to you obay,
And what advise so ere of gentlenesse
To me you giue, and shall command or say,
I will the same fulfill with readinesse:
For tis not my desire nor my intent,
T'infringe one point of your commandement,
But willingly with heart t'effect the same,
As farre as in my power it lyeth to doe;
So loath I am for to incurre the blame,
Of any disobedience shewed to you.
And truth to say, my heart it sore would grieue,
And therewithall of Hector tooke his leaue.
And forth he road so like a valiant Knight
Amongst his men, and entred in the field
With so great grace, that t'was a goodly sight
To looke on him, who on an axure shield,
Three Lyons passant on't did brauely beare,
And gainst the Greeks road forward without feare
Young Troylus gone, Prince Hector did ordaine
The fourth ward, and the conduct thereof gaue
To Hupon and Andelius brethren twaine,
Both Knights couragious, valorous and braue:
This Hupon of Larisse land was King,
And many men with him to Troys did bring,
To ayd them in their wars that were so long,
And sure he was a very valiant Knight,
Of stature huge and tall, and passing strong,
And no man was like vnto him for might,
In all the great and spacious Troyan towne,
But onely Hector that braue Champion.
And gainst his foes he was so fierce and fell,
That he of them brought many to the ground,
Who spight their hearts did try his force too well.
Hector with these two brethren forth did send
His bastard brother cald Dimarechus,
A stout and valiant Knight adventurous.
And to them, to conduct with standards braue,
And to be led when they should come in field,
Twice sure and iust three thousand men he gaue,
All Knights well horst & armd with speare & shield:
Who taking leaue of Hector curteously,
Road forward to the field couragiously.
The fift ward which next orderly did stand,
(Into the field against the Greekes to goe)
Was giuen vnto the King of Cesoyne land,
(Whose name it seemes the Author did not know)
And to his Brother cald Pollidamas.
Those people named Cesoynes did surpasse
The common sort of men, for stature tall,
Proportion, strength, and great dexterity;
For which they were admir'd & prais'd of all
That them beheld and marked earnestly:
The colour of the shield the King then boare
Was only gules, and nothing in it more.
Who when his charge of Hector he had had,
His leaue he tooke, and with his brother road
Couragiously before his Knights, that made
A gallant show when they in order stood.
Meane while Prince Hector ceast not paines to take,
The sixt ward with all speed he could to make,
Which he vnto King Protemense gaue,
(Who both in force and wisedome did excell)
And to a Duke cald Sterepes, to haue
The conduct of the people that did dwell
In Poenie land, and them to guide that day,
Which people vse of custome (as men say)
Their enemies in furious wise t'assaile,
Onely with bowes and arrowes sharpely ground,
On horsebacke, without armes or coate of male,
And thē cleane throgh their armors sore to wound:
And Hector with those people also sent,
His Brother Deiphobus to th'intent
They might securitie into the plaine
Where they should fight, & so they went their way.
But ere they past, Prince Hector did ordaine
A band of men to goe with them that day
Well arm'd into the field, (least they shold venter,
Among the Greekes so nakedly to enter)
And be orethrowne) which band of men he tooke
Out of those Knights that from Agresta came,
And that they should the better to them looke:
And for to be conductors of the same,
He did appoint two valiant Kings to ride
Along with them, and by them to abide
During the fight against the Greeks that day;
The one of them King Esdras had to name,
The other was King Philon, but to say
Where they did dwell, or frō what place they came
I cannot, for mine Author doth not show,
Because (as I suppose) he did not know:
Or else I thinke he had it cleane forgot.
He saith that rich King Philon sumptuously
Apparelled, sat in a Chariot,
The which was made of pure white Ivory;
With wheeles of Heban wood most finely wrought,
Which wood out of the Indian land is brought.
And as men say is hard as any stone,
His Charet within was all inchast with gold,
And precious stones and pearles vpon the bone,
And was so rich and sumptuous to behold:
That as I thinke the like was never seene
Before, nor since within the world t'haue beene.
Two Knights this Chariot drew, & some did rid [...]
About it strongly arm'd with speare & shield,
For to defend their King on every side;
So he and Esdras road into the field,
Accompanied with stout Pithagoras,
That one of Hectors bastard brethren was.
Who of that wing to haue the chiefe command,
Of purpose sent him out with them to goe.
The battaile that next ready plast did stand,
Hector vpon Aeneas did bestow:
Which had no other Knights within the same,
Then those that with Ewphemy thether came
So farre out of their natiue Country,
For Hectors sake to ayd King Pri [...],
The which were Knights of great activity;
Good horsemen, and exceeding valorous:
Who being brauely horst and furnished,
Their Coronell Aeneas followed.
And went out of the towne couragiously,
As if each one God Mars himselfe had been;
Hector meane time the eight ward orderly
Ordained had, and rank't it out, wherein
No other Knights nor men but Persians
(That thither came to ayd the Troyans)
By him were plast; which wing he did command
Vnto his brother Paris to obay
As Captaine over them; and when they stand
All ready to set forward on their way,
Hector, his brother Paris kindlie staid,
And louingly spake vnto him, and said:
Brother, the thing that I of thee require,
And which for thine owne good to thee I moue,
Is, that I doe thee heartilie desire,
(If thou thine owne securitie dost loue)
When thou this day in field against thy foe
Shalt fight, see that thou ventrest not to goe
Too farre amongst the thickst of them, least they
Intrappe thee vnawares, as sure they will,
If that they can by any meanes or way,
For their inveterate hatred to thee still
Encreaseth more, and doth their hearts embrace
So ferventlie, that nothing can it race
Out of their minds, but thy destruction.
Which to prevent, be thou not far from me
In any wise, least when thou art alone,
They should some hurt or mischiefe do to thee,
Before that I could come to thy reliefe,
Which vnto me would be no little griefe.
Keepe therefore neere to me at any hand,
That I may ayd and helpe thee in distresse,
And doubt not but we shall our foes withstand,
How furiously so ere on vs they presse:
To whome his brother Paris answere made,
And said, that he in mind resolued had
Vnto his hests in all things to obay.
And so his leaue of Hector hauing tane,
Withall his Knights in order road his way
Out at the gate, while Hector did ordaine
The battaile that the ninth & last should be,
Wherein he plast the flower of Chivalrie.
For in the same fiue thousand Knights there was
Most worthy men, and of most great renowne,
And such as for their valor did surpasse
All other Knights that were within the towne:
And all of them right Troyans by discent,
Borne in the towne. This battaile Hector men [...]
Should by himselfe into the field be led,
And of his bastard brethren chose out ten
To ride with him, whome he much honored,
As knowing them to be right valiant men;
And such as for their prowesse & their mights,
Of all men were esteemd most hardie Knights.
And when he had his battailes made & plast
In order, as before I haue set downe,
And all of them one after other past,
In braue and warlike wise out of the towne:
Like Mars himselfe for courage and for for [...]
He mounted vp vpon his gallant horrse
Cald Galathe, (the which is said t'haue been
The goodliest horse for stature, shape, and haire,
Swiftnesse and strength, that ever had been seen
In any place, and therewithall so faire
An [...] tractable, that with a reine of twist,
A man might rule and turne him as he list.)
And thereon richlie arm'd from top to toe,
(Which glistred like the Sun it was so bright,)
Road through the towne with such a gallant shoe,
That all men to behold him tooke delight:
Vnto the place where Priams▪ Court did hold,
And there from point to point vnto him told,
What battailes and what men he had sent out
Into the field against his Grecian foe,
And fifteene hundred valiant Knights and stout,
I haue (said he) ordaind with you to goe:
That shall attend your royall Maiestie,
And gard your person where so ere you be.
And likewise all the footmen that do stay
Within the towne, excepting no degree,
Commanded are to waite on you this day,
With whome I humbly pray your Maiestie,
Out of the towne into the field to goe,
And there your selfe in warlike wise to shoe,
Not far off from the place where we shall fight,
But suffer none of them to go aside,
Nor leaue their ranks, but there with all your might,
Betweene vs and the towne I pray you bide,
In order ready prest vs to relieue,
Whereof if need require we shall you giue
Advise, for that still twixt vs men shall goe,
T'advertise you with all the speed we may
Of our estate, and vnto you to shoe,
What likelihoode on either side this day
(By ayd of Mars the God of warre) may be,
Against their foes to haue the victorie,
For you shall be our Castle and our wall
To succour vs in our extreamity,
Besides all this (which is the principall)
You must take heed and very carefull be,
That th'enemie in ambush doth not lurke
Behind the towne, & treason gainst vs worke.
While we to fight on this side busied are
Against our foes, whereof in any wise,
Let me intreat your Grace to haue a care,
That to prevent and worke by good advise:
That our affaires may fall out happilie,
And so we may obtaine the victorie
Against our foes. If they intrap vs not
By vnexpected fraud or violence,
The which I hope shall neuer be our lot.
Let these my words (said he) be no offence
Vnto your Grace I humbly you desire,
Sith all is for our good which I require.
Wherewith the King well pleas'd and satisfied,
With countenance benigne and chearfull heart,
When he had paws'd a while, to him replied.
Hector (said he) sith that my trust thou art
And sole support, what euer thou dost say,
Or shalt desire, I will it not denay.
For next the Gods in thee I do repose
My welfare, hope, and my securitie,
And by thy strength and power against our foes,
I onely do expect our safetie:
And therefore do commit into thy hand,
The sole command and rule of this my land.
And as thou dost ordaine so shall it be,
For no man shall thy will in ought denie,
And to the Gods I humblie pray for thee,
To saue and keepe thee from adversitie:
And that thou maist returne with victorie,
That so th'eternall praise and memorie
Of thee may be enrold by trump of fame,
Throughout the earthlie globe both farre & neare,
Perpetuallie for th'onor of thy name;
And so farewell (said he) mine own Son deare.
And Hector taking leaue no time delaid,
But went vnto his Lords that for him staid.
As he that was their valiant Generall,
The verie root of perfect noblenesse,
The ground of ancient Knighthood, & withall
The liuelie patterne of true hardinesse,
Valor and strength almost invincible,
For that as much as it was possible,
For nature to adorne a man withall
Was found in him, and therewithall he wa [...]
Indowed with a Grace maiesti [...]all,
Yet meeke, and did in gouernment surpasse,
For vpright iustice, temprance, policie,
Wisedome, discretion, sence, and clemencie.
The armes which then this Troyan Chāpion bore
Triumphantly vpon his warlike shield,
And standard both (as Guido saith) was or
A Lyon rampant gules, which in the field
Was so well known & fear'd, that th'enemie
From it as from deaths pi [...]cing dart did [...]e.
And through the streets in order braue did ride,
With trumpets, and with drums that loudly playd,
And diuers warlike instruments beside,
As penons rich and ensignes faire displaid:
And many people flockt in heaps about,
To view and see those warlike troops go out.
Thus Hector with couragious heart and mind,
Like Mars himselfe into the field did ride,
And though the battaile which he led, behind
The rest aid goe, yet would he not abide
With it, but through the ba [...]s all did passe,
And never staid till he the for most was▪
And at the head of all his troopes did stand,
Not once abasht so many Greeks to find,
In battaile rankt [...]th sheild and speare in hand
Him to assaile, but with a valiant mind,
No whit of them nor their great force affeard,
Resolud to be the first that would them [...]eard.
Meane while the Ladies gallant, fine, and gay,
(Within the towne of most and great'st account,
As fresh beseene as flowers in month of May,
Vpon the wals and towers of Troye did mount:
And round about Queene Helena the faine,
And Policene King Priams daughter, there
Did stand to see and to behold the fight,
Although of them the greatest part did feare▪
And were abasht in heart at such a sight
Of armed men as then assembled were:
That some of them of very tendernesse,
Some of meere loue, and some of kindnesse▪
Amas'd and pale in face and countnance were,
Least they should loose their louer o [...] their Knight;
And some their faces hid for extre [...]me feare,
And durst not looke vpon the armor brigh [...],
In which their feare ile leaue them for a while,
And to the Greekes direct my wearied stile.
And of them make a briefe relation,
How they that day their battailes did ordaine.
But first I must with exclamation
Cry out, and of dame Ignorance complaine,
That dares presume so boldly in my light
To stand, and with her shadow dim my sight.
For she it is that onely makes me erre,
For want of marshall tearmes and phrase to write
Of battailes, and of things concerning warre,
When as I would in order them indite:
And of an armie pitcht in field should speake,
But Cha [...]cer's dead, and can me neither cheake,
Nor counsell giue how to direct my phrase,
Who did in perfect Rethoricke excell
All other Rethoritians in his daie [...],
For he had drunke and tasted of the well
Of Hellicon, which on Pernassus stands,
Wherein as yet I nere could dip my hands.
Nor once get leaue to mount vpon the hill,
To see the same, one drop thereof to tast,
Although it was full sore against my will,
But tis too late to call backe time that's past:
And sith tis so, I do not greatly care,
(Though rude I be) vnto you to declare,
In simple tearmes, such as my wit doth yeeld,
(Which, to say truth, are rusticall and plaine)
What order Agamemnon in the field
That day did take, his battaile to ordaine
On Grecians side, as having no intent,
That any man should find him negligent,
For t'was no time as then for him to sleepe.
Therefore with all the speed he could devise,
He did prepare that day the field to keepe,
(As he was valiant, politicke, and wise:)
Against his foes, twentie six battailes great,
Which he in ranks most orderly did set.
The government whereof he did commit
Vnto such puissant Kings and Princes braue,
As he for valor thought to be most fit
To take that charge, the first whereof he gaue
Vnto a Prince of honor great and fame,
Which G [...]id [...] saith, Patroclus had to name.
Which was compos'd of Myrmidons most strong
And puissant Knights that came from Thessalie,
And onely to Achilles did belong,
And with them ioynd the same to fortifie
Such Knights as he himselfe did thither bring,
All strongly arm'd. And with this valiant wing,
He was the first that on the Grecians lide
Began the fight against their enemie,
The cause why he the Myrmidons did guide,
Was, for because Achilles then did lie
Sore wounded in his tent, and came not out [...]
That day, for that his Surgions were in doubt
If he should stirre, his wounds that were so sore
And very greene, would festar, ranckle, bleed,
And trouble and torment him more and more,
Which to prevent, it was by them decreed
To keepe his bed, and for to ease his paine
To lie therein, till they were whole againe.
And so vnto Patroclus did commend
His Knights, because he was of royall bloud,
And his assured, true; and perfect friend,
Exceeding rich, and much esteemd for good:
And great discretion, wit, and curtesie,
And one in whom he wholly did relie.
For twixt them both there was such entire loue,
Affection great, and perfect amitie,
That nothing could out of their hearts remoue,
The constant and assur'd fidelity:
Which mutually they did t'each other beare,
Whereby their hearts together linked were,
And knit in one as they were bound together,
For will and wealth was one betwixt them both,
And what so ere the one did, or the other,
It was confirmd on either side, as loath
To moue dislike, or discontentment breed
Twixt them, that had resolu'd & full decreed,
To liue & die true friends in heart & mind,
Which to their ends they strictly did maintaine.
The second ward to Menon was assignd,
(Who in that war great honor did obtaine)
And to the worthy King Idumenes,
To whome was ioynd a Duke cal'd Menestes.
With full three thousand men well furnished,
And all th' Athenian Knights in armour bright.
The third by King Ascalaphus was led,
And Philomene his Son a worthy Knight,
Who both in proud and stately wise together,
Conducted those that frō Cuman came thither.
King Archelaus the fourth ward did command,
And with him was Securidan the stout;
And Prothenor, who with that warlike band,
All three together valiantly went out
Against their foes: & had within the same,
None but the Knights that from Bo [...]tia came.
King Menelaus a worthie Prince, was made
Conductor of the ward next following,
(And lift in tal [...]) which in it onlie had
The Knights which he did thither with him bring
From Sparta, and the Isles about the same,
Who likewise (as his subiects) thither came.
And of the battaile next and sixt, the King
Epistrophus was chiefe Commander made,
And with him stout King Gelidus, to bring
The same into the field, which in it had
The Knights that came out of the famous Isle,
Which by the Geeekes is called Fordessle.
The seventh battaile next ensuing, led
By worthie famous Thelamon Aiax King
Of Salamine, was onely furnished
With Knights that he vnto the siege did bring:
And with them were foure Earles of high degree,
Whose names I find (the storie saith) to bee
Theseus the first, the next was Doxeus,
Polixarie the third, the fourth was he
That all men called stout Amphimacus.
The eight ward Agamemnon did decree,
Should by the King cald Thoas forth be led,
With many Knights well arm'd and furnished.
The ninth ward Cileus Aliax did command.
The tenth was led by King Philoctetes.
Th'eleaventh (the which next orderly did stand)
The most renowmed King Palamides,
(King Naulus son of whome the Greeks did make
So great account) into his charge did take.
Before the twelfth Duke Nestor (full of pride
And melancholy humors in his mind)
A very stout and valiant Knight did ride.
The thirteenth to King Honux was assign'd,
(That was Ma [...]berethes Son by true dissent)
Who with it to the field most proudly went.
The fourteenth battaile that day for to guide,
The subtill King Ullsses was sent out.
And with the fifteenth ward to field did ride
King Humelus a worthy Prince and stout.
The sixteenth vnto Duke Caribulus,
A Knight of great account and valorous,
Committed was to lead: and in that band
The Knights of King Prothesalus did go,
(Whom Hector slew that day the Greeks did land)
T'incourage them to be reveng'd. And to
King Rodus was assignd the seventeene.
The eighteenth to the King of Occe [...]ene.
And of the nineteenth stout King Zan [...]ppus
Of Lidia, leader was. The tweentith band
Commanded was by King Amphimacus.
Philoctetes King of Lariffia Land,
The one and twentith band with him did lead.
The two and twentith by King Diomed.
The three and twentieth Agamemnon gaue
Vnto Aeneas King of Cyparie,
The leading and command thereof to haue,
That day against their Troyan enemie.
And with the foure and twentith ward did ride
Prothecatus a King▪ the same to guide.
King Carpenor of Carpadie was made
Conductor of the fiue and twentith band,
A noble Prince that great experience had
In warre and peace both on the sea and land:
And valiantly himselfe he did defend,
Vntill the Troyan warres were at an end.
The six and twentith battaile, and the last,
That was sent out against the enemie,
King Agamemnon Generall of the hoast,
(A puissant Prince of great authoritie)
Reserued for himselfe, and in it led
Great store of armed knights well furnished.
The battailes thus ordain'd, the Greeks were led
In order to the field, where as they staid
Each Prince and chiefe Commander at the head
Of every band, with ensignes rich displaid,
And streamers wavering in the wind, that shone
In braue and warlike wise against the sun.
At which time many a creast and helmet faire,
And richly gilt and graven, there were seene,
Wherein great store of strange devises were,
And plumes of feathers, yellow, red, and greene,
Blacke, blew, and white, with other colors more:
And some that day for loue of Ladies bore
Their favors on their Crests for to be seene,
And to encourage them that day to fight,
Couragiously as if that they had beene
In presence and before their Ladies sight:
And dolefull noyse of Drums & trumpets shrill,
Which with a fearefull sound the aire did fill,
As messengers and signes of shedding bloud,
Were [...]eard in every place throughout the Campe,
And prancing steeds with fierce and furious mood,
Vpon the ground their feet did beat and stampe:
And neigh and some at mouth on either side,
Attending signes of battaile with great pride.
Both Greeks and Troyans longing sore to trie,
Their knightly force and valors in the field,
Each one that day against the enemie,
And readie prest with furious looke beheld
Their deadly foes there standing in the place,
Which from each other was but little space.
Till that the battailes first in order set,
On either side remou'd and forward went,
And in most furious wise together met,
Where Hector that in heart was discontent:
And formost on the Troyans side did stand
Vpon his horse, with mighty Lance in hand.
Whose wrath and ire by no meanes could asswage,
(Like fierce and cruell Lyon that for pray
With hungry mood doth hunt) in furious rage,
Against the Greeks first onset gaue that day:
And ran so fast vpon his gallant steed,
That with his spurs he made his sides to bleed.
His Knightly heart so much was set on fire,
With mortall wrath and hate revenge to take.
Which when the Greeks did see, with great desire,
They also for their parts like hast did make
T'advance themselues, and first without abode,
Patroclus that the formost of them rode.
In proud and hautie manner spurd his horse,
T'encounter Hector fiercly in the field,
And with a speare that was of mightie force,
Road vnto him, and hit him on the shield,
So great and strong a blow, that with the same
He pierst it through (with such a force it came)
But hurt him not at all, for that it brake,
Yet with the point through plate & male did passe,
And did a hole within his harnas make,
But neither brest nor skin of his did race:
And though with most great violence it came,
Yet could he not stirre Hector with the same.
Nor make him once out of his sadle rise,
Nor backeward nor yet forward for to yeeld,
Nor yet t'incline himselfe in any wise
Vpon his horse, so fast thereon he held:
But Hector vnto his confusion,
Most like a strong and puissant Champion,
Cast downe his speare, & with his sword in hand,
In furious wise vnto himselfe he swore,
That spight of all that durst or would't with stand,
Patroclus at that time should die therefore:
And therewith such a blow vnto him gaue,
That with the strength thereof his head he claue
In sunder to the brest, and then againe,
A second blow him gaue withall his force,
Which finally his body claue in twaine,
Wherewith Patroclus tell off from his horse,
With pale and deadly face vpon the ground,
As he that had receau'd his mortall wo [...]
In presence of his men, and in the sight
Of all the Greekes, and then without delay,
Hector off from his horse with speed did light,
(And like a Lyon fell that seekes for pray)
Determin'd in his heart that burnt like fire
Against his Grecian foes, with great desire
To spoyle Patroclus of his armes that were,
So gallant, rich, and sumptuous to behold,
As being set with precious stones most cleare
In chast, and richly gilt with purest gold:
For then great Lords and Princes vs'd to beare
Most sumptuous arms whē as in field they were▪)
And to that end while he was busied,
With couetous desire to take his pray,
(In sight of all the Greekes) his horse he led,
In one hand by the reine, and thought to lay
The body of Patroclus on the same,
But ere't was done King Menon thither came.
And with three thousand Knights inclos'd him round,
Who all together hotely him assail'd,
Whereas so great resistance then he found,
That of his purpose at that time he faild:
And forced was to let Patroclus lie,
For to resist the force of th'enemie.
Which caused him in boyling rage to fall,
To whome King Menon fell and furious,
The spake and said in presence of them all,
O greedy Wolfe and Tygar ravinous,
O Lyon fierce and beast insatiable,
Whose avarice is most vnreasonable
Vpon this prey, as now thou shalt not feed,
Go seeke elsewhere for other carrion,
For fifty thousand men haue all decreed,
This day to worke thy sole destruction:
And that they may in their intent prevaile,
Thy hatefull pride at once they w [...]ll assaile.
And then in furious wise on him they set,
With Launces, swords, and other weapons more▪
And on him as vpon an anvile beat.
On every side, behind, and eke before:
With full pretence his horse from him to take▪
And what so ere resistance he could make.
For all his valor, force, and puissant might,
He was constraind to fall vpon his knee,
But like a most couragious hardy Knight,
By passing strength and magnanimitie,
Despight of all the Greeks, he did by force
[...] vp againe vpon his gallant horse.
And to King Menon road with furious mood,
And heart possest with extreame cruelty,
(Wherein his sole delight and pleasure stood)
And without doubt had slaine him presently:
If that three thousand knights chivalerous,
With Theseus, Glaucus, and Archilagus,
Had not in time to rescue him come thither,
Who all with one consent and great despight,
Agreed to follow Hector, and together
In furious wise to kill him if they might:
But nere the lesse who s [...]ere did him assaile,
Was surely kild, for nought could him prevaile
Against his puissant arme and trenchant blade,
So that the Greeke that met with him that day,
Need take no care for ransome to be made
To saue his life, for ere he scapt away,
He was most certaine without doubt to die,
So that for feare, each one from him did flie.
Whereby he had the meanes to breake the prease
Of those that did enclose him round about,
And where so ere he road he did not cease,
To kill and beat them downe till he got out,
And made a path before him smooth & plaine,
Vntill he came vnto the place againe,
Whereas the body of Patroclus lay,
To spoyle him of his armor if he might,
And fore him on his horse to beare't away,
In view of all the Greeks to their despight:
And at that time had surely had the same,
But that King Idumeus thither came.
And with him broght two thousa'd knights of [...]ree [...],
(Where he was King) that did inclose him round,
And valiantly on all [...]ides on him set,
While he vnarm'd Patroclus on the ground:
And to them came a king cald Merion,
(Although at last to his confusion.)
And ere that Hector could about him looke,
Despight of all his valor and his might,
His gallant horse perforce from him they tooke,
Whereby he was compeld on foot to fight:
But yet his knightly heart they could not feare,
For with his sword he slew all that were neare,
Or him withstood: and at that time began
To hacke and hew the Greeks on euery side,
And t'cu [...] off armes & legs of horse and man,
That none of them before him durst abide:
For he in little space had fifteene slaine,
Of those that forcibly would him haue tane.
And such a slaughter gan amongst them make,
That many of thē shrunke back & would not stay,
Meane time they did Patroclus body take,
Which Merion on his horse did beare away
Vnto his tent with sad and heauy cheare,
And still the Greeks with Hector fighting were.
Who all the while vpon his feet did stand,
And some of them that neer'st on him did presse,
He made to feele his strong and heauy hand:
Yet what so ere he did they would not cease,
Nor leaue t'enclose him round on euery side,
Presuming in their hearts with hawty pride,
In th'end at some advantage him to take,
Supposing that he could not long sustaine
Their puissant force, or from their hands escape,
Nor likely was, his horse to get againe:
From which they sought by all means him to let,
And therefore all at once vpon him set.
And specially amongst them there was one,
More earnest and more busie then the rest,
(Whose name as Guid [...] sayth was Carion)
That Hector in most furious wise opprest:
And still inforst himselfe, and would not cease
T'assaile him when he was in most distresse.
Environed by Greeks on euery side,
Till that by chance a valiant Troyan knight,
(Who all the while with Hector did abide,
When he on foot enclos'd with Greeks did fight)
Two darts in hand did take, whereof the one
He did directly cast at Carion.
Which with such force stroke him into the side,
That with the blow it claue his heart in twaine,
And stayd not there, but forcibly did slide
Out through his armes at th'other side againe:
And with that mighty, great, & fatall wound,
He presently fell dead vpon the ground
Before an hundred knights, who all together
With him had vo [...]'d & sworne with great despight,
The death of Hector by one meanes or other.
The second dart this worthy Troyan knight,
Cast at a Grecian Knight, that in the field
Gan Hector to approach, and through his shield
And armor bright did strike him to the heart,
And then vnto the Troyans he did call
And cry alowd, to come from every part,
With speed vpon the Grecian Knights to fall:
That had inclosed Hector round about,
And without danger great could not get ou [...]
Wherewith the valiant hardy C [...]cibere,
(One of King Priams Bastard childeren)
And diuers other Troyan Knights that were
At his command, in hast did come, and when
They saw that Hector midst the Greekes vnhorst,
S▪vnequally to fight on foot was forst,
With fury great together they did set
Vpon the backes of those that him enclos'd,
And vnawares by that meanes did them let
Of that pretence which mongst thē they suppos'd,
For presently when they the Troyans saw,
Three hundred of their Knights did them with­draw.
With sodaine feare abasht and fled away,
When thirtie of their men had first been slaine,
And Hector maugre all that durst say nay,
Vpon his gallant horse got vp againe:
And entring in the thickest of the prease,
In furious wise did ride and neuer cease
To kill and slay with bloudy sword in hand,
And mercilesse to cut and hew in sunder,
All those that gainst him in the field durst stand,
(That to behold his valor it was woonder)
And only for because they did him stay,
And hinder from Patroclus armes that day.
And therefore in most cruell wise he shed
The bloud of many a worthy Grecian Knight,
Who in great feare and terror from him fled,
But he on whom with trenchant blade he light,
Was sure to die, for t'was to him much good,
To see his sword died red with Grecians blood.
And on them in such sort reveng'd to be,
For that like Lyon fierce that hunts for pray,
He did so kill and follow them, that he
The Grecians pride did much abate that day:
For as they fled the bloud in streames was seene,
Run from their wounds along vpon the greene.
Till Menestes the Duke of Athens came,
With iust three thousand Knights well furnished,
And richly arm'd, and all of them the same,
That he from Athens brought: the which he led
Of purpose to the left side of the field,
Where Troyelus that time the fight then held.
With none but Phrigian Knights, and all that day,
(Like to a ravening Wolfe that greedilie,
With open mouth doth follow after pray,)
Did kill and slay the Greekes so cruelly,
That they were glad to flie & shun his sight.
And while he was most earnest in the fight
Against his foes (with stout King Za [...]tip [...],
That did himselfe most valiantly behaue)
And with another King cald Alchanus,
(That likewise was a hardy Knight & braue)
Who with their trenchāt blades all three did wound
And kill so many Greeks, that all the ground
Whereas they fought was couered ore with blo [...],
And bodies of the Greeks whom they did slay,
But specially yong Troyelus that road
That day vpon a horse of color baye,
(Such havocke of them made, that well was he
That from their fierce & cruell blows went [...]e.)
Menestes that with furious looke beheld,
What slaughter on the Grecians then was made
By Troyelus that day within the field,
Such wrath and cruell ire in heart he had:
That with a mightie speare coucht in his rest,
He ran and hit yong Troyelus in the brest
So puissantly, and with so great a force,
That maugre all his might and valor great,
At vnawares he threw him off his horse,
In midst of all his foes that him beset
Cleane round about; where he on foot did fight,
And like a hardy, fierce, and valiant Knight,
Most brauely did assaile his enemies,
And them also with valor great withstood,
Although he was in great extreamities,
And danger of his life, for that he stood
Amongst the horses feet, almost ore-run,
And found no way how he the same shold [...].
For round about him enemies he saw,
That hotely him assaild on every side,
And by no meanes he could himselfe withdraw
From thence, nor long their puissant force abid [...]
For Menestes still more vpon him prest,
And gaue him not the means to breath, nor [...]t,
In hope at last he should be overcome.
And still the nomber of the Greeks increast,
And such as wearied were, gaue others roome
To fight, whereby with multitudes oreprest,
And with exceeding toyle sore wearied,
They tooke him and as prisner forth him led▪
Till that a valiant Knight of Troye that stood,
And saw him by the Greeks so led away,
Sore grieu'd and much abasht in furious mood,
Vnto the Troyan Knights did speake, and say:
O worthy Phrigian Knights whose honors spread
Throughout the world, & long hath flowrished,
For shame let it not now ecclipsed be,
And meerely by your fault and negligence,
That stay still here as in a mase, and see
Not how the Greekes by force and violence
The gallant Knight Prince Troylus haue taken,
Without reliefe, as't were, by you forsaken.
Which will redownd to your perpetuall shame,
For if the flower of worthines be led
Away by force and not relieu'd, the blame
(And worthily) will turne vpon your head:
For if with speed you do him not relieue,
Men will report, and verily belieue,
That onely by your meanes it came to passe,
That Troyelus this day had this mischance,
And by the Grecians prisoner taken was▪
Let vs then to that end our selues advance,
And valiantly our honors herein saue,
That no discredite we thereby may haue.
Wherewith the worthie King cald Alchanus,
Was so much moou'd in heart, that presentlie
(Like to a Lyon fierce and furious)
He tooke a speare in hand, and sodainlie
Did spur his horse as fast as ere he might,
And after road, till that he had a fight
Of those that yong Prince Troyelus prisner led,
And with his speare ran at a Grecian Knight,
And pierst him to the heart, that he fell dead
Vpon the ground, and then againe did smite
Another Grecian Knight with such a force,
That he not onlie cast him off his horse,
But with his mightie Launce did pierce him cleane
Through's body, sholder bone, & armor strong,
So that the steely point thereof was seene
Out at his backe at least a handfull long:
And then the Phrigian Knights as thicke as haile,
Came riding downe, & did the Greeks assaile,
With so great courage and dexterity,
That maugre all resistance they could make,
They did procure Prince Troyelus liberty,
And him out of their hands by force did take▪
And help't him to his horse againe with speed,
Whereof as then he had no little need.
And with them also was King Za [...]ippus,
Who when he saw Duke Menestes, with speed
(And with a noble he [...]t and valorous)
In furious wise he spurd his lusty steed▪
And run at him with speare in hand so fast,
That with the blow through sheild & male he past.
With so great force, that without doubt he had
Been slaine, if that his armes had not been good▪
But Menestes was furious, wood, and m [...]d,
And raging, fre [...]ing, [...]ming, chasing stood:
And like an Aspen lea [...]e with anger shooke,
Because the Troyans Troyelus from him tooke,
Despight of him and all his Chivalty;
And foming like a Bore at mouth did ba [...]le,
And to th▪ Athenian Knights aloud did cry,
To will them on the Troyan Knights to fall:
And be reveng'd on them for that disgrace,
Before that they should stir out of that place.
Wherewith they all at once with fury great,
The Troyans did assaile right valiantly,
And for their parts they likewise did not let
To fall vpon the Greekes couragioussie:
And then began a fierce and furious fight,
And did so fiercely one the other smight.
That fire out of their sheilds & armes did fly,
And sparkle all abroad in fearefull wi [...]e,
And many a valiant Knight that day did die,
And in the field cast our most dolefull cries:
Of life or death they tooke as then no heed,
For that they had determin'd and decreed,
Each other to destroy, confound, and kill,
And furiously to worke their enemies bane,
And at that time the battailes that stood still
On every side, came downe into the plaine:
And with most pale and deadly faces met,
And on each other valiantly did set.
With hote and burning jre, so that as then,
Nought else but blows of Launces, sword, & dar [...],
Were heard and seene within the field, and men
Did shout and cry alowd, and on each part,
The fight began in such sort to renew,
That many a man in fine the same did rew.
For Hector like a most renowned Knight,
So furiously still on the Greekes did set,
And with most puissant blows and passing might,
Did kill, beat downe, & maime all those he met [...]
And mercilesse, with extreame cruelty
Did them confound, that pitty t'was to see.
And Menestes with heart repleat with spight,
Because his pris▪ner Troyelus had beene tane
So forcibly from him, and that in fight
His men had then so many of them been slaine:
Where so ere he road in furious wise did slay,
Beat downe, & wound, & fore him draue away
The Troyan knights, that he might take revenge,
For th'iniuries that they to him had done,
And as he round the field about did range,
(Like Wolfe for prey) and here and there did run
In furious wi [...]e to kill his enemies,
He met a Troyan knight cal'd Miseres.
(Who in despight of all his Chivalrie,
His pris▪ner worthie Troyelus had tane
By force from him that day, and set him free,
And some of his Athenian knights had slaine)
And knowing him againe by th'armes he bare
Vpon his shield, before he was aware.
And ere of him he once tooke heed or care,
He spurd his horse, & ran at him in hast,
(And mongst the ranks of Troyans that were there)
Him to the ground out of his saddle cast.
Then to the field on Troyans side there came
A valiant King that Hupon had to name,
That with him full two thousand knights did bring,
Who on the Greekes in furious wise did set,
And to encounter them, for Greekes a king
Cald Prothenor, couragiously did meet:
And Archelius the noble warrior,
That of Boetia Land was Governor.
Who with the ayd of valiant Prothenor,
The Troyans did assaile as cruelly,
As he had been a Tygar or a Bore,
And Prothenor himselfe couragiously,
Did also many a Troyan fiercely slay.
But Hupon by his valor great did stay
Their furious moods, and through his Chivalry,
Not only did the Troyans then defend,
But in most cruell wise, and furiously
Brought many Grecian knights vnto their end.
And thus twixt them the fight then equall was,
Till that the worthy knight Polidamas
Anthenors sonne, (that valiantly did ride
Before his knights) amongst the Greekes did enter,
And brauely them assaild on every side,
And by that meanes did breake their ranks asunder:
And cruelly kild many a Grecian knight,
For they could not resist against his might,
He was so hardy, stout, and furious.
And for to second him the worthy king
Cald Remus, that of knights chivalerous,
Three thousand to the field with him did bring▪
Into the battaile came, and there did fight
So valiantly, and with such force and might,
That all the Troyan knights that him beheld,
Tooke great delight, & were exceeding glad,
To see him kill & chase the Greekes in field,
And that such havocke of them there he made:
Whereby as then great noyse of strokes & cries,
Within the field was heard and gan to rise.
And while king Remus in this sort still [...]ights,
And on the Greeks in furious wise did set,
King Menelaus with all his Spartane knights,
Into the battaile proudly came, to let
And to restraine king Remus in his course,
And to that end set spurres vnto his horse,
And valiantly vpon king Remus set,
And Remus likewise gainst him road as fast,
And with their speares so furiously they met,
That each the other to the ground did cast:
For in their course they did so fiercely run,
That neither of thē each others blows could shun.
Meane time the valiant knight Pollidamus
(Who onely sought to honor to attaine,
As he that was both stout and valorous)
Met with Queene Helens Nephew in the plaine,
That was a mighty Duke cald Mereus,
A Prince both gallant, yong, and vertuous.
Most richly arm'd and of good carriage,
And for his time a stout and valiant knight,
(For he was then but twenty yeares of age)
Yet much renownd for valor and for might:
But by hard fortune it fell out (alas)
That this braue Troyan knight Pollidamas,
Ran at him with a speare so furiously,
That piercing through his armes and coat of male,
He strake him to the heart, and sodainly,
He fell downe dead with color wan and pale:
Which when as old King Menelaus beheld,
And saw him lie dead groueling in the field,
That sometime Nephew was to Helena
His wife, he fell into so great a rage,
That presently he made no more delay,
But in some part his choller to asswage,
He ran at stout King Remus in despight,
And with his sword stroke at him with such might
Vpon the head, that he could not sustaine
Himselfe vpright, but fell vnto the ground,
Wherewith his Knights supposing he was slaine,
For that the blood did run out of his wound.
(And he as dead vpon the ground did lie,)
They tooke him vp, and with him gan to flie
As fast as ere they could, and would not stay
Till that the valiant Knight Pollidamas
Vnto them went, and stopt them in the way,
And by no meanes would suffer them to passe,
Except those that by him appointed were,
King Remus to the towne of Troy to beare.
Then to the field on Grecians side there came,
King Celides a valiant Prince and stout,
Whom Dares doth report t'haue had the name
Amongst the Greeks, and all the world throughout.
T'excell all men without exception,
For beauty, shape, and good proportion,
Behauiour, grace, and countenance bening,
For every part of him was most exact,
And finely made, so that not any thing
To grace a man withall, in him there lackt,
For nature had him fram'd of such a mold,
That all men did delight him to behold.
Which made the gallant Amazonian Queene,
(For passing beauty held to be the flower,)
To loue him so when once she had him seene,
That she did choose him for her Parramour,
And loued him so deerely at the heart,
That from her thought he neuer could depart.
Who being as I sayd a gallant Knight,
As soone as ere he entred in the field,
And saw whereas Pollidamas did fight
Against the Greeks, and at a bay them held;
He set his spurres vnto his horses side,
And in most furious wise to him did ride,
And with his speare did giue him such a blow,
That with the same (which came with passing might
Off from his horse he did him overthrow,
But to requite him for't the Troian Knight
Pollidamas with pale and furious face,
Ere Celides departed from the place,
Drewout his sword and smot him on the head
So cruelly, and with so great a might
That he therewith off from his horse fell dead
Vpon the grrund, vnto the great despight
Of all the Greeks, that could him not relieue,
For which in heart they sore did fret and grieue.
And while the Greeks and Troians thus did fight,
And each the other kild in euery place
Throughout the field: Hector the valiant Knight,
Like Lyon fierce, before him did them chase,
And furiously did wound, beat downe, and slay
The Greeks so fast, that forst to giue him way,
Like sheepe before the greedy woolfe they fled.
For gainst his trenchant blade no Greeks durst stād,
For with the same their blood so fast he shead,
That glad was he that could escape his hand.
And at that time such vengance he did take
On them, that they compeld were to forsake
The field whereas he fought, yet would he not
Leaue off to kill, and chase them, till in fine
As he road here and there it was his lot,
Among the valiant Knights of Salo [...]ine.
T'incounter with King Theseus in the way,
That many a Troian Knight had slaine that day.
And as to him in hast he gan to ride,
The valiant Knight King Tentar thither came
With speare in hand, and while he lookt aside,
In furious wise ran at him with the same.
And with the blow cleane through his armes did pierce
And wounded him, but while with courage fierce,
Hector to be reueng'd for that despight
(On Tentar,) turnd his horse about in hast,
He wisely road as fast as ere he might,
Till he out of his furious sight was past,
Wherewith his heart was soe possest with ire,
That in his breast it burnt as hot as fire.
And when he felt his wound to ake and smart,
He did within himselfe so rage and fret,
That for to ease the coller of his heart,
What Greeke soeuer after that he met,
Or that durst be so bold him to withstand,
Was sure to die by his victorious hand.
And mongst the rest one speciall there was
That proudly and of purpose him withstood,
Whom with his sword (which through his arms did
He claue vnto the heart with furious mood, (passe)
At which most puissant stroke the Greeks did trēble,
But nerethelesse they did in troopes assemble,
And him inclosed round on every side,
Vpon him such a fierce assault to make,
(Which they supposd he could not long abide,
That at the last by force they would him take.
And more and more there number still increast,
Which on all sides t'assayle him neuer ceast.
So that to all mens [...]ight by likelihood
He could not from their hands escape aliue.
And while in so great danger there he stood,
And still with them did [...]ght [...]nd brauely striue,
Like to a Lyon fierce and furious.
The worthy Grecian King cald Theseus,
Of curtesie and of meere gentlenesse,
In heart was mou [...]d to see him in that case,
And pitying his heard and great distresse,
As fearing what in fine might come to passe,
Because he stood in danger of the wracke,
In kind and friendly manner to him spake.
Oh valiant Knight, and root of hardinesse,
Oh spring of man-hood, stocke of Noblenesse,
And th'onely patterne of all worthinesse,
Why art thou now so carelesse in distresse?
To saue thy life by Knightly prouidence,
When as thou seest thou canst not make defence
Against so huge a number of thy foes.
Mongst whom thou art in danger to be slaine,
For they on every side doe thee inclose,
And haue all meanes of succour from thee tane.
And yet thou wilt not helpe thy selfe at all,
But staist to see the worst that may befall.
For which all men in heart may well complaine,
To see that such a worthy valiant Knight,
Who by his valor Knight-hood doth maintaine,
And vnto Marshall men is th'only light.
And as it were th'v pholder of their law,
Will not himselfe from danger now withdraw.
But wilfully thy life wilt rather loose.
Great pitty t'were that thou shouldst here be slaine
Withdraw thy selfe therfore whilst thou maist chose
For if thou diest not now thou wilt be tane,
Thy prowesse great compelleth me to pray
Thee, that in this distresse thou wilt not stay.
Which words whē Hector heard, & knew they came
Out of a heart repleat with curtesie▪
He bow'd his head, and thank't him for the same,
As to his friend, and yet his enemy.
And then perforce and mauger all the might
The Greeks could vse, most like a valiant Knight
With bloody sword in hand he brake the presse,
And through the thickst of them did brauely ride,
And got from them, and still he did not cease
To kill, and beat them downe on euery side.
And in his way Pollidamas he found,
That valiantly stood fighting on the ground,
Against two Greecian Kings, whereof the one
Was Menelaus, a worthy valiant Knight,
The other fierce and furious Thelamon,
Who likewise was a Prince of passing might.
And Thelamon ran at him with such force,
That with his speare he threw him on his horse.
And forcedihim gainst both of them to fight,
On foot, that they reuenge on him might take,
And with most furious blowes they did him [...]a [...]e
Vpon his crest and helmet, which they brake.
And then the beauer from his face they [...]e,
And when that it vncouered was and bare,
And by that meanes he could it not defend▪
With that aduantage which on him they had,
They tooke him suddenly and did him send
Vnto their tents, and him a prisoner made.
But when as Hector did behold and see
Pollidamas in such extremitie,
With full intent to succour him in hast,
He spurd his horse and furiously did ride
T'oretake the Greekes, and wheresoere he past
With sword in hand made way on every side,
Till in the end he got vnto the place
Whereas distrest Pollidamas then was,
Cleane succourlesse, and without remedy,
Or hope of ayd from Troians in that case,
Till that he did on Hector set his eie,
That thirty Greeks had slaine in little space,
And made them giue him way for all their pride,
For none of them durst fore his sword abide.
Nor gainst him stand, so that by valor great
And Knightly force, he made them all to flie,
And by that meanes Pollidamas did set
Free from their hands, againe at libertie.
Then to the field came King Epistrophus
With many worthy Knights and valorous.
And with him Menelaus and Thelamon,
And each of them great store of Knights likewise,
Who with their troopes of Greeks all joynd in one,
The Troians did assaile in furious wise.
(To get themselues an everlasting name
Of honour and of glory by the same.)
And with their power of Greeks that were so strong,
They draue the Troians fore them in the field,
And entring mongst the thickest of the throng,
Gainst them a hard and furious fight they field:
Despight of all their valor and their might,
Or Hectors Knightly prowesse that did fight
So valiantly as then, and with such force
(That none but he himselfe could euer do't,)
But cowardly the Greeks did kill his horse,
And then he was constraind to fight on foot:
Which vnto them procur'd but little good,
For there was none that then about him stood
But he did kill, and wound them grieuously.
And though by them he was inclosed round,
And on all sides assayled furiously,
He made them to recule and giue him ground▪
And on his feet so fiercely fought that day,
That none of them durst hand vpon him lay.
For if they did they were assur'd to die.
And when his valiant brethren him beheld,
And saw him fight on foot so furiously,
Inclosd by Greeks in midst of all the field,
And to defend himselfe gainst them so well,
(As any rauening Tyger fierce and fell,
That furiously doth fight to saue her whelp.)
They all together brake into the prease,
And Hector on all sides began to helpe,
And first vpon King Thelamon did ceaze.
(For him gainst Hector busiest then was found,)
And gaue him many a great and bloody wound.
While that a valiant Knight cald Dixdaron,
Among the Grecian troopes did boldly ride,
And there a gallant horse by force he won,
Which hauing got, he did not long abide
B [...] brought it vnto Hector where he stood
Among the Greeks all bathed in their blood.
Whereon in hast he mounted gallantly,
And mongst the Greeks like Mars himselfe did ride
And many of them did kill so furiously,
That at that time he did abate their pride.
Then Deiphobus entred in the field,
And brauely gainst the Grecians battaile held,
With th'archers of Bohemie which he brought
With him to field, whose arrowes feathers were
With Peacocks glistring tailes, wherwith they fought
And did so fiercely shoot, that in great feare
To shun the same the Greeks retired backe,
And Troians by that meanes did courage take.
And then Deiphobus valiantly did race
And beat King Tentrans helmet from his head,
And with his sword did wound him in the face
So cruelly, that in a manner dead
Hefell of from his horse with extreame paine,
And then the Troians furiously againe
Assaild the Greeks, and put them to a stand,
And once againe were masters of the field.
But Theseus with the Knights at his command
Withstood them still, and them too hardly held,
Till Hectors bastard brother Quintiline,
Whose armes as cleare & bright as sun did shine.
And the most valiant King cald Modern [...]
Assayled, and with extreame crueltie,
Together fell vpon King Theseus,
Who nerethelesse with great agilitie,
Against them both himselfe did long defend;
But notwithstanding all his force, in th'end
They brought him vnto such extremitie,
That without doubt they had him surely flaine,
If Hector (mou'd thereto by curtesie,)
Had not with speed cri'd out to them amaine,
To pray them for his sake their hands to stay▪
And saue his life, whereto they did obay.
And for that time assayled him no more,
For Hector cald to mind what curtesie
To him was showne the selfe same day before
By Theseus, in his hard extremity,
And therefore with the like did him require,
As tis the part of every courteous Knight.
For which King Theseus thankt him hartely,
As glad he had escapt by such a chance.
Then in the field King Thoas valiantly
On Grecians side his standard did aduance,
And with him King Philoctetes came thither,
Who with thē broght great store of knights toge­ther
And with that great and new supply of men,
The Troians did assayle, and Thoas ran
(At one of Priams bastard children,)
Whom Guido [...]aith was cald Cassibelian,
And to him gaue so great and sore a wound,
That he therewith fell dead vpon the ground.
Which blow when Hector saw, he grieued sore,
And for his brothers death great sorrow made,
And to himselfe he did protest, and swore
That he would neuer rest till that he had
Reveng'd his brothers death if that he might
Vpon the Greeks, and then with great despight,
He entred mongst the thick'st of them in hast,
And furiously all those that in his way
Did stand, he kild, or maymed sore, did cast
Them off their horses backes, and all that day
So valiantly did fight against his foes,
That many a [...] thereby his life did lose.
Then to the field Duke Nestor proudly brought
Fiue thousand valiant Knights in armor bright,
That furiously against the Troians fought.
And on the Troians side the worthy Knight
King Esdras, with a courage stout and bold,
And Philon in his stately chaire of gold,
With all the valiant Knights and chivalry,
(That for to ayd King Priam thither came)
Out of Agresta land with Iacony
The Prince and heire thereof, and with the same
Couragiously vpon the Grecians ran,
At which time many a braue and worthy man
Was fiercely slaine and maim'd on euery side,
And from the men that on the ground lay dead
And wounded sore, with gashes long and wide,
The field all ore was died in colour red,
With streames of blood that men therin might wade,
Such slaughter at that time twixt them was made.
At which time Philon fought most furiously,
And did by valor great the Troians ayd,
And many a Greeke that day did cause to die.
But while thus fighting valiantly he staid,
At vnawares he was inclosed round,
And sodainly himselfe in danger found:
For that the Greekes so compast him about,
That he vnlikely was from them t'escape,
For by no meanes he could from thence get out,
But that in th'end they would him either take,
Or kill outright, but that Prince Iacony
Vnto King Esdras loudly gan to cry,
Saying, my Lord, by our great negligence
King Philon at this time will sure be slaine,
For gainst so many Greeks ther's no defence,
But that he must needs die, or els be tane,
If we relieue him not if that we can,
And so in hast they altogether ran,
And in despight of all the Greeks by force,
They did release King Philon from their hands;
Who glad thereof, did mount vpon his horse
And road with them vnto the Troian bands:
That then with all their power, force, and might,
With Hector that most brave and worthy Knight,
Deiphobus, and Pollidamas, and other
Couragious Troian Knights that had decreed
With one consent, and valiantly together
The Grecians freshly to assayle with speed,
Of purpose, if convenient meanes they found,
With all their puissant power t'inclose thē round.
That few of them should scape with life from thēce,
And to that end did fiercely them assaile,
And did compell the Greeks with small defence,
(For that as then their courages did fayle.)
To loose their ground, and to retire with speed,
And finally were driuen into such need,
That mauger all their might they had that day,
Been vtterly brought to confution,
And forced in the end to run away,
If that King Menelaus and Thelamon,
When as they saw them faint and halfe afraid,
Had them not then incouraged and staid,
And made them once againe themselues defend,
Till that Aeneas and Duke Eufrenus,
Against the Greeks did valiantly descend
With other troopes of Knights chivalrous,
And freshly them againe did sore oppresse:
And Hector also by his worthinesse,
Like Lyon fierce with sterne and cruell face,
Did put them to so great extremitie,
That like to sheepe that cruell woolfe doth chase,
They were compeld with feare from him to flie.
As glad his strong and trenchant blade to shun,
And from it for to saue their liues, to run.
The which when valiant Aiax did espie,
He had in heart so much compassion,
To thinke vpon the great extremitie,
With cruell slaughter and confusion,
(The which the Greeks as then did feele and find)
That when he turn'd his backe & look't behind.
And saw so many Grecian wings that staid
And were in order prest within the field,
Which banners large and pennons faire displaid,
And all that while the cruell fight beheld,
And saw how Hector had the Greeks in chase,
Yet stirred not one foot out of their place.
(Although in them the flower of chivalry
On Grecians side there was, that able were
The Troians to withstand, and valiantly
To be reveng'd on them, and for to beare
The furious charge of their fierce enemies.)
In all the hast he could, to them he hies,
And loudly vnto them for helpe did crie,
Whereatin hast the wearied Greeks to ayd,
They marched forward gainst the enemy,
With ensignes rich and pennons braue displaid.
And when they and the Troians fiercely meet,
The earth did shake and tremble with the feet
Of horses, that in furious wise did fling,
And gallop in the field, and then did rise
An [...]eous noyse wherewith the ayre did ring
O huge and mighty strookes, and fearefull cries
On either side, and many a Knight was seene
With deadly wounds lie gasping on the greene.
Then Aiox gainst Aeneas fiercely ran,
And he gainst him as willingly did ride;
(For twixt them both such enmitie as than,
And hatred great there was on either side▪
That nought but death their furies could asswage,)
And did together meet in such a rage,
That with the blow that each the other hit
Most puissantly withall their force and might,
Each other to the ground they brauely smit.
And vp againe they rose on foot to fight,
And there a valiant combat twixt them tride,
Where as they both great danger did abide
Amongst the horses feet vpon the ground.
Till that Philocletes that brauely fought
That day on Grecian side, had Aiax found
And him another horse to mount on brought,
And did assayle the Troians valiantly
That other wise had had the victory
Against the Greeks, but that Philocletes
Withall his Knights them man fully withstood.
And first of all as th'Author Guido saies,
At Hector with a speare he fiercely roade,
Which with the blow in many peeces brake,
But stird him not off from his horses backe,
For though he had receiu'd so great a stroke,
(That well might haue orethrown avaliant Knight
He sat as stif and sturdy as an oke,
And with his speare Philocletes did smite
Through armor, shield, and body, that withall
Sore wounded to the grouud he made him fall.
That off his life his Knights were much in doubt.
Then to the field King Humerus, and eke
Ulisses came, and with cen thousand stour
And valiant Knights, and many a worthy Greeke,
The Troians did assaile so furiously,
And with great multitudes of new supply
Vpon them set, that in despaire and feare,
And wearied with so long and cruell fight,
They gan for to recule, and readdy were
To turne away and take themselues to flight,
It Paris had not come with more supply
To rescue them, and at his entery
Into the field, the King of Frizia met,
(That vnto King Ulisses was of kin,)
And in such furious wise vpon him set,
That without more adoe he ran him in
Through armor, shield, and bodie, with his speare
Whereat the Greeks full sore abashed were.
And for his death Ulisses grieved so
That in a rage and with extreame despight,
He did a speare at Paris fiercely throw
To pierce his heart, but it to low did light▪
Yet nerethelesse it went with such a force,
That with the strength thereof it kild his horse,
And he thereby fell flat vpon the ground,
Wherewith Ulisses fiercely did assayle,
Him as on foot he stood when he him found
Among the horses feet, but he did faile,
For Troylus brauely met in the beard
And furiously with shorpe and trenchant sweard,
Wrought him so strong and puissant a blow,
That in his face a cruell wound he made,
From whence the blood like to a spring did flow▪
But King Ulisses nought therewith dismaid,
Made small or no account thereof at all,
And to revenge himselfe did fiercely fall
On Troielus, and with his sword did race
His helmet from his head, and to him gaue
A deepe and cruell wound vpon the face,
Wherewith the Greeks began againe to haue
More courage, and were in good hope to see
The Troians shortly brought t'extremite,
And cleane orethrowne, they were so sore opprest,
If Hector with a valiant troope of men,
And Deiphobus, Paris, and the rest
Of his most stout and worthy bretheren.
And Troielus likewise for all his wound,
(That euer more a valiant Knight was found.)
Had not together ioind, and fiercely ran
Vpon the Grecian troopes, and first of all
Hector the most renowned Knight began,
With sword in hand so furiously to sall
Vpon the Greeks, and with such cruelty
To kill them, that from him they all did flie,
(Like to the sillie fearefull sheepe in field,
That from the rauening woolfe themselues do hide
And run away for feare they should be kild.)
For none of them before him durst abide,
For still he did them fiercely hac and new,
And more and more the slaughter did renew.
So that as then their harna [...]les were staind
With drops of blood, (which he that day did shed)
As thicke as if that blood from skies had raind,
And still like vnto swarmes of bees they fled
Before his face, and by no meanes would stay,
For glad was he that got out of his way.
And as the story saith of him that day,
He alwaies was the foremost in the field,
And at the head of all his troopes did stay,
T'abate the Grecians pride, till he beheld
The Knights that to the battaile he had brought
Were scattred and cleane out of order fought.
And when he had fought valiantly and long,
And saw the Greeks did still renew their force,
And by that meanes began to wax more strong:
In hast he clapt his spurres vnto his horse,
And to his Troian Knights againe repair'd,
Who at that time in manner all dispair'd,
For want of him, but when they did him see,
Full soone againe they were all comforted,
And with great signes of ioy and amitie,
With all their hearts him gladly welcomed,
Which at their hands he thankefully did take,
And vnto them in courteous wise he spake.
And praid them in their valiant minds to way,
And wisely to consider and forecast
What iniurie the Greeks from day to day,
Vnto them did, and had done long time past.
And how that if the victory should fall
That day to them, they might bid farewell all
The Troians honor, glory, and renowne:
For then (sayd he) nought els would be our lot
But th'overthrow of vs, and of our towne,
And all the ancient honor we haue got
Vnto our selues, and our posteritie,
(In former times,) would cleane Ecclipsed be.
Vulesse this day you show your selues like men,
That well deserue the honor you haue got,
Wherefore I hartely pray you all, that when
Against your Grecian foes you fight, giue not
The smallest cause for them in any wise,
T'vpbraid you with the fault of cowardise.
But valiantly assayle them all together,
And shrinke not backe for feare least you shold die.
For die you must at one time or at other,
Whereto they all consented willingly.
And without more delay past through a vale,
And vnawares vpon the Greeks did fall.
Where Hector spard not one what ere he was,
But kild and manned all without remorse
That with him met, wheresoeuer he did passe,
And mauger all their pride and might did force
Them to recule, and flie out of his [...]ihgt,
Till that the most renownd and valiant Knight
King Theas, to the field came in againe,
And furiously vpon the Troians ran,
(Who that same day in cruell wise had slaine
King Priams bastard sonne Cassibelan.)
But as he busied was on them to set,
By fortune he with all his brethren met.
Who all at once and with one full consent
Inclosed him on every side, and were
Vnto his vtter ruine wholy bent,
And hauing throwne him off his horse, did teare
His Helmet from his head, and ment to [...]ight
It off, if that the fierce and valiant Knight
Menestes Duke of Athens had not been,
Who with his Knights came riding hastily,
And him out of the danger he was in
Set free, and to procure his liberty,
With speare in hand directly as a line,
He tooke his course and ran at Quintiline,
That busi est was King Theas to haue slaine,
And with the strength and puissance of his blow,
(Which Quinteline as then could not sustaine,)
Cleane off his horse he did him overthrow.
And made his brethren also to withdraw
Themselues from him, the which when Paris [...]aw
He bent his mighty bowe, and fiercely shot
At Menestes, and hit him in the side
Vpon a rib, which though it kild him not,
He had a wound thereby both large and wide
Which hurt him sore, and grieuously did bleed,
And yet thereof he tooke but little heed,
Cause he as then was bent so earnestly
To ayd King Thoas standing on the ground,
Amongst the horses feet, and like to die,
His body bleeding sore with many a wound.
And without helmet bare vpon his head.
But Menestes cleane void of feare or dread
Deliuered him from that extremitie
And sau'd his life, when out of hope he was.
But Hector full of wrath and enmitie,
(As he that for his valor did surpasse
All whatsoere,) made such destruction
Of Greeks that day, as he road vp and downe.
That all men sore abasht from him did flie,
For they vpon his face did feare to looke.
Whose valor when King Humerus did espie,
Into his hand his mighty bow he tooke,
And [...]yming right shot Hector in the face.
But ere that he could get out of the place,
Hector for to requite him for his paine
Ran straight at him and gaue him such a blow,
That with his swor [...] he claue his head in twaine.
Whose death when as the Grecian knights did know
They blew a horne, which made so great a sound,
That presently there were together found
Seuen thousand Knights, that all on Hector fell
And him in clos'd, but he without abode
(As one that did in valor great excell,)
Despight of all their power through them road,
And [...]lew all those that in his way he met,
Or that durst venter him therein to let,
And never staid, but hastely did ride
Vnto the place where Priam all that day
Did with his troope without the towne abide,
(Whereas he purposely with them still lay,
Till by advise from Hector he did know,
When he with them into the field should goe.)
And comming to his father did him pray,
That with three thousand Knights he wold him ayd
And gainst the Grecians goe without delay,
Who presently with all his Knights did ride
Into the field, and there the Greeks assaild
Most valiantly, and gainst them so prevaild:
That in short space so many of them were slaine
And overthrowne by Priam furiously,
That at that time the field and all the plaine
Were covered with dead Greeks, and they did flie
With speed before his face, as glad to get
Away from him, so hot on them he set.
And then as Hector valiantly did ride
Throughout the field the Troians to relieue:
And Alax likewise on the Grecian side,
Some ayd and succour vnto them to giue,
Like Lyons strong, they both together met,
And on each other did so fiercely set,
That with their mighty speares and puissant force,
Th'incountred so magnanimiously,
That each the other brauely did vnhorse,
And gainst their willes vpon the ground did lie.
And at that time King Menelans did fall
Vpon a worthy Troian Admirall,
And kild him with his sword, and so began
A cruell [...]ight and slaughter to renew
On either [...] And C [...]lyd [...]us than
Infurious wise King Thoas nephew slew.
And Madan like a stout and valiant Knight,
With sword in hand so cruelly did smght
A Grecian King cald Cedeus in the eies,
That with the blow, one eye he cleane smote out.
And Sardellus a Troian Knight likewise,
As he from place to place did range about,
Vpon a Grecian Lord so fiercely f [...]ew,
(Whom Guydo nameth not) that he him [...]lew.
And at that time Margariton a Knight
O [...] Troyans side, with wrath and furious ire,
Most valiantly with Thelamon did fight.
And he also with him with like desire.
But Thelamon did smight him to the ground,
And gaue him with his lance a deadly wound.
And Pha [...]i [...]ll the worthy Troian Knight,
With speare in hand and fierce and furious mood,
King Prothenor off from his [...]orse did smight,
And thus King Priams sonnes as then withstood
The Grecians in such wise, that all that day
Most cruelly they did them wound and [...]lay.
(To be reueng'd on their inveterate foes)
And by that meanes in that most furious fight,
Great store of Grecian Knight is their liues did loose.
And then King Anglas with his speare did smight
Menestes Duke of Athens on his shield,
But nerethelesse still on his horse he held.
And for because no lance as then he bare,
With sword in hand he did to anglas go
And with it furiously his beauer [...]are
From off his face, and with the selfe same blow
He cut his nose cleane off, or very neare,
Whereat a while he stood as in a feare,
To see the blood run downe his face so fast,
That with the same his ar [...]o [...]all was died:
But like a stout and valiant Knight, at last
He spurd his horse and road somewhat aside,
(To stench it if he might) without the field,
But when his brother Dea [...]or it beheld,
And saw him by Menestes wounded so,
He ran at him in fierce and furious wise,
And hit him with his speare so great a blow
That downe he fell, and ere that he could rise
Another of his brethren did come thither,
And they all three assay led him together.
With full intent to kill him if they might,
And to that end on him most furious [...]Spand [...].
But Menestes (that was a valiant Knight,)
So gallantly their fierce assault did boare.
And sought so well that wonder [...]'was to see.
But Thoas [...]h'eldest brother of the three
Most busiest was, from him his life to take,
And with most furious rage and crueltie,
His helmet at the last in peeces brake,
And brought him to so great extremitie:
That without doubt he surely then had died,
Had not King T [...]n [...]an bin, that him espied.
Who grieuing to behold him in that case,
Ran hastely to ayd him if he might;
But when he gotten had vnto the place
Whereas they fought, and like a valiant Knight
Did brauely him relieue out of his paine
And great distresse, t'was labor all in vaine.
For Hector who as then by chance came thither,
And saw King Tentran fight so valiantly,
Assay led him, and Menestes together,
And there had slaine them both assuredly
If Aiax had not been, that him espied,
And with a thousand Knights vnto him hied.
And with them all at once did him assayle,
(To saue them from his furie if they might,)
And Hector of his will then made to fayle.
But Paris like a hardy valiant Knight
With the renown'd and worthy Persian King.
And with fiue thousad Knights that he did bring
Vnto the fied, perceiuing their intent
To ayd his brother Hector straight did goe,
(And being to revenge then fully bent,)
He presently did cause a trumpet blow,
Whereat the valiant Knights that Hector led
That day into the field well furnished,
Came speedily vnto him at his call
Against the Greeks, [...]on to enforce the fight,
And to relieue their valiant Generall,
And so with extreame furie and despight:
Gre [...] store of Grecian Knights that day they slew,
And in such sort the battaile did renew,
That many a Greeke in heart was grieued sore,
To see the losse and great destruction
Vpon them made. But Hector euermore
Such valor show'd, that he himselfe alone
A thousand Grecian Knights that day did slay,
And made the Greeks to flie and run away.
Not daring to behold his furious face,
That wholy vnto cruelty was bent,
And while that he so furiously did chase,
His enemies not farre off from a tent,
It was his chance King Mereon to behold,
Whom when he did espie with courage bold
And countenance sterne, vnto him spake, & said,
Traitor thy glasse and fatall course is run,
Thy life must end, no time shall be delaid,
For that before into the West the sunne
Descendeth downe, know that assuredly
With this my sword thou shalt not faile to die.
Because that thou so hardy wast this day.
(When as I thought Patroclus armes to haue,)
To hinder and bereaue me of my prey,
For which thy bold attempt nought shall thee saue,
And therewithall downe from his horse he light,
And with his sword his head cleane off did smight
And thought his armor likewise to haue had.
But while that to disarme him he began,
Menestes Duke of Athens that was glad
To be revengd on Hector, at him ran
When as his backe was turn'd, and suddenly
At vnawares did wound him cruelly,
And pierst him through the armor in the side,
Whereat the blood in streames ran out a maine,
The which when Hector felt he straight did ride
Out of the field, and for to ease his paine
He caused one to search and dresse his wound,
And for to stanch the bleeding fast it bound.
(Meane time Menestes closely got away,
For to be freed from Hectors furious force,
Intending not to meet him all that day.)
Which done againe he mounted on his horse:
And to the field returned with much more
And greater rage then ere he had before.
For that his heart so furiously did fret
And burne with wrath, that entring in the presse,
In cruell wise whosoever that he met
He killed, beat downe, and wounded mercilesse.
And spared none of what degree so ere,
So that from him the Grecians fled for feare.
And in that fur [...]e great and crueltie,
Wherewith the Greeks as then he did oppresse.
(As Guide doth declare and certifie.
And as his Author Dares doth confesse,
If that we may beleeue the Historie,
Which truth of things sincerely, should des [...]e)
After he did his latter wound receaue,
Not reckoning those whereof I spake before,)
With his owne hands he hid of life bereaue
A thousand Grecian Knights: and more and more
He did pursue them with such cruelty,
That all his sword was turnd to crimson die
With Grecians blood. So that his chivalry
So much by them was feard, that euery one
Of high and low estate from him did flie,
And mongst them all ther was not any one,
That after all that day durst him withstand,
Or offer to resist him hand to hand.
And yet although that Hector slew them so,
And valiantly held them at such a bay:
Their Generall Agamemnon would not go
Into the field to ayd them, all that day.
Whereby as then the Greeks were sore opprest,
For Hector like a Lyon did not rest,
To kill, and wound them in such a furious wise,
That they constrained were for ayd to flie
Vnto their tents, with many shootes and cries,
The Troians following them couragiously,
By traces of their blood along the way,
And in their tents great store of them did slay.
And did from them much of their treasure take,
And bare it vnto Troy victoriously,
And of them there such hauocke then did make,
That that same day they had most certainly
Been vtterly orethrowne for euermore,
By Troians that oppressed them so sore;
And valiant Hectors valor and his might,
Who all that day most valiantly had fought,
And with the ayd of many a Troian Knight,
Vnto such great extremitie them brought:
That had't not been by their owne foolishnes,
And pride of heart, with ore-much carelesnes.
Without all doubt they verily had gain'd
A great and most triumphant victory
Against the Greeks, and therewithall obtain'd
Dominion, rule, and Soveraignty
Ore them, and all their land continually,
Which well might haue indurd perpetually;
If [...] had not been for hard and cruell Fate,
The which in things begon with wilfulnesse,
Is alwaies prest and ready to debate,
And striues to make them end with wretchednesse,
By hir most enuious disposition,
Vnhappy chance and resolution.
And turning of her light and slippery wheele,
Which ticklesse is, and full of [...]icklenesse,
That t'will not stand when as a thing is well,
For fortune's wholly bent to wilfulnesse.
Great pitty t'was they were so ouershot,
And at that time themselues so much forgot,
And would not their good fortune then pursue,
(And chiefely Hector that renowned Knight.)
That would not marke what after might ensue,
And to prevent the mischiefe if they might,
Which at that time did presse on them so nere:
But sure it is, too much they blinded were
(That day in field when as victoriously,
They saw themselues triumphantly to bee
Set on the top of fortunes wheeles so hie.)
That of meere negligence they could not see
What danger might ensue, and all for lacke
Of providence, which did them cleane forsake,
And made them loose that great and speciall grace
Which fortune offered them, (although vnstable
Sometimes she bee,) and set before their face.
For in a man it is not commendable,
(If fortune seeme on him to laugh and smile,
And with faire show doth favor him awhile,
To succour and relieue him in distresse,
When he therein most deeply plung'd doth lie.)
So great good hap to loose by wilfulnesse,
And Fortune to let slip so carelesly,
When as she doth impart to him such grace:
For when he would, she will him not embrace.
An other time when he of her hath need,
And ready is downe from her wheele to fall,
Nor yet will care to stand him once in steed,
Or to vouchsafe to succour him at all,
But in regard of his ingratitude,
With frowns, & mocks, & mowes will him delude
When he doth thinke himselfe secure to bee.
For she so much is bent to wilfulnesse,
Deceit, and guile, and extreame crueltie;
That when a man with foolish carelesnesse
Her favors most vncertaine doth deride.
Another time t'shall be to him denide,
When he desireth most the same to haue.
For at some time (it is a thing most sure)
She graunts some man the thing that he doth craue
And [...]tmay be, that he neuer shall procure
The like againe of her, though he should liue
A thousand yeares, and nere so much would giue
T'obtaine the same, as most vnhappely
To worthy Hector it befell that day,
That needs would spare the Greeks so wilfully
And proudly favord them, when as it lay
In him to overthrow them, and to kill
And vtterly destroy them at his will.
And by his valor great triumphantly
With honor, and renowne, t'haue entered
Into the Towne of Troy with victory,
Which he that day too much by folly led,
Resused and could neuer more attaine
The like advantage while he liu'd againe.
For as he road and cruelly did slay
And wound the Greeks on euery side, he met
With valiant Thelmon Aiax in the way,
Who furiously and with great envy set
On him, like to a Lyon fierce and wood,
And though that he his kinsman was by blood▪
And therewithall a young and gallant Knight,
Yet did he brauely venture to assayle
His Nephew Hector, and with him to fight
Couragioosly, presuming to prevaile.
To cast him off his horse, and yet they were
Of blood each vnto other very nere.
For he was sonne vnto King Thelamon,
A worthy Grecian Prince and valerous
That him begat vpon faire Exion,
That sister was vnto King Pria [...]us.
And so he did the first occasion take,
To moue the Greeks that warre on him to make.
And to that end first with a sturdy speare
At Hector ran, and he at him likewise,
And each the others blow did brauely beare,
(Like two most fierce and and hardy enemies,
For both of them in valor did excell.
And then like Lyons fierce, and Tygers fell,
Vpon their horses fought with sword in hand,
And cut and hewd each others armors strong.
And each his enemies furie did withstand
Most valiantly, the which indured so long
Betweene them both, till that by providence
Divine, or els by naturall influence,
(Which diues into the mind of man so farre,
And searcheth both the heart, and euery vaine,
Of those that of one blood and linage are.)
They moved were their rancor to restraine,
And thereby both their furies molefied,
Onely for that they were so nere ali'd.
Though neither of them then the same did know,
Nor yet the least suspition thereof had,
Till nature it vnto them both did show,
And them in heart of foes as friends had made.
For naturally blood will to blood be kind,
And friends to friends where euer they thē find.
Which was the cause that Hoctor mou'd in mind,
Of Knighthood, and of inward ame [...]ie,
When he in Aiax did such valor find,
Vnto him spake, and said in curtesie,
Nephew, if thou the Grecians w [...]l [...] forsake
And come to Troy, I dare well vndertake
Of thine alies, and noble kindred,
Thou shalt receaued be with chearefull mood,
And welcommed without all feare or dread,
And specially by those of Royall blood.
And such as are of Princely high degre,
The which me thinks great pleasure were to thee,
And naturally thou shouldst in heart be glad
To liue among thy friends that wish thee good,
Sith that no greater joy there ean be had
Then to restore thy selfe vnto thy blood.
For by the valor great that thou do'st show,
(Which naturally within thy heart doth grow.)
I know thou art of Troian blood descended:
Forsake the Greeks therefore withall thy heart,
That long and often times haue vs offended,
And willingly gainst them with vs take part,
I pray thee doe me not herein deny.
But Aiax answere made, and did reply
And sayd, sith that by birth he was a Greeke,
And from the time of his Nativitie
Among them had been bred and fostredeke,
And had receiu'd the order and degree
Of Knight-hood there, & armes for thē had borne
And thereto had protested, vou'd, and sworne
For to be true to them, and to their Nation.
He said he would obserue and keepe their hest,
And would of blood make no exception.
Onely he did of Hector then request
That if in courtesie and gentlenesse
He would of Knight-hood and of worthinesse,
Show vnto him so great affection
To cause the Troians forces to retire,
And to withdraw themselues into the towne,
And leaue them and their tents (at his desire)
And for that time their furious fight to stay,
And to assaile the Greeks no more that day.
Sith vnto them (saith he) it may suffise
That in the field they haue the victory,
And by their valors great in Knightly wise,
Haue overcome the Greeks triumphantly.
He sayd he would the same most kindly take,
And him thereby to him beholding make.
Which Hector straight did graunt, (although alas
T'was done with two much hast and wilfulnesse,)
And sodainly ere Aiax thence did passe,
Made no delay, without advisednesse,
But caus'd a Trompet in the field to blow,
To giue the Troian Knights, thereby to know
That t'was his will they should themselues withdraw
(According to the custome of the warre,)
And of the old and ancient Marshall law,
Which alwaies hath been vsed neere and farre.
When they most hot and earnest were to fight,
And gainst the Greeks to show their force & might
And had them forst to flie vnto the strand,
Intending there with full and great desire,
(For that the Greeks could not their force withstād)
To kill them all, and set their ships on fire.
And so to worke their whole confusion,
Which they without all doubt that time had don
If Hector had not had compassion
On them, and causd the Troians to retire
Vnto the towne, without discretion,
(T'accomplish that which Aiax doth require.)
And fight no more against the Greeks that day,
The which at last did breed his owne decay.
With th'vtter ruine and subversion
Of Priamus, and all his whole estate,
And finally the townes destruction.
But sure it was their hard and cruell Fate,
For no man can withstand the iust decree
Of God, though nere so great a Prince he bec.

CHAP. II.

[...] How the Grecians made suite to King Priamus to grant the [...] truce for eight weekes, which he agreed vnto, and of their ba [...]tailes after the truce was ended.

THus haue you heard, as G [...]do doth declare,
What twixt the Greeks & Troians had b [...]n don,
That day in field, and how the Troians were
By Hector (when they had the battaile won,)
Commanded to retire, and go their way
Out of the field, and fight no more that day.
To whom although they willingly obayd,
(Because he was their Prince, and Generall
Of all the hoast, and might not be denaid.)
Yet had they knowne what after should befall,
Without all doubt they would it not haue don:
(But no man fatall Destiny can shon.)
For from that time they might assuredly
Say farewell honour, victory, and fame,
From Troians tane by perverse Desteny,
And Fortune that most false and cruell Dame.
Who vnto them a mortall foe still wa [...],
But for a while ile let that matter passe.
And now I will proceed and further show,
That when the Troian Knights the field did leaue,
(Vpon the sound of Trompet that did blow,)
And did themselues of victory bereaue,
(Supposing that they did it for the best [...])
They went into the towne to take their rest.
Where hauing shut their gates and made them fast,
When they had well refresht themselues, that night
They layd them downe to sleepe, which being past
(Whē Phoebus shone next day most cleare & bright
And with his beames reflect their hemisphere,
And made Auroraes glistring face t'appeare.)
All those that had no wounds, & armes could beare
Of purpose did prepare themselues to enter
Into the field, (as they commanded were,)
And valiantly against their foes to venter,
To overcome them that day if they might,
For t'was decreed by Hector overnight,
That fore the Sun that morning did appeare,
Assoone as ere they wakt they forth should goe,
And to that end no time they did deferre,
But speedily themselues in armes did shoe
Within the large and spacious plaine, whereas
The Temple of Diana placed was.
And therefore Hector staid. But ere they went
Out of the towne of Troy into the field,
The Grecians early in the morning sent
To Priamus, to craue of him to yeild
And grant vnto a truce, that should abide
For two moneths space, which he not once de [...]de
But with consent of Hector and the rest
Of all his Marshall counsell, did agree
And willingly did yeild (at their request,)
That it on his behalfe obseru'd should bee.
And they likewise did promise for their part
To doe the like, and so they did depart
Vnto their tents, where while the truce did last
They buried all their men that had been kild
When they did land, and on the day forepast,
According to the Pay-nim lawes they held.
And which by them observed was as then,
Where all the bodies of the meaner men
Were burnt; and cleane consum'd to ashes pure.
And such as were of great and high degree,
Had other kind of Princely sepulture,
According to their state and dignitie.
And in that sort the time did ouerpasse,
Till the two moneths of truce expired was.
In which time it is sayd Achilles made
Much sorrow, and such griefe in mind conceiud
For his deare friend Patroclus death, that sad
And full of woe he was, and cleane bereau'd
Of ioy, whereby great lamentation
Long time he made with much affection
For him, and sith he lou'd him (as I say)
To haue him still in memory, he made
A tombe to be set vp of Marble gray,
To bury him therein. (For then they had
A custome to intombe and bury those
That Princes were, and richly to inclose
Their bodies faire in tombes most brauely made.)
And so Patroclus, and Prothesilaus
Were buried in solemne wise, and lay
Together, yet in severall tombes, and thus
The Grecians in their tents without still lay,
While Troians in the towne likewise did stay,
To cure their men that wounded were in fight,
And to recouer health and strength againe
To those that s [...]re diseased were, and might
Not stirre themselues for dolor, griefe, and paine.
And in that cruell fight much blood had shed,
And ere the two moneths truce was finished,
Such diligence did vse that every man
Was whole and sound, but Priamus the King
Made so great sorrow for Cassibellan,
That he would not be mou'd for any thing
To cease his griefe, but still he sobd and wept,
And while the corse aboue the ground was kept,
He caus'd a tombe of metall curiously
Ingrau'd and wrought for to be made, and when
T'was finished, and with solemnity
In Venus Temple set and placed, then
He held a great and stately funerall
For him, and there accompanied with all
His Lords, vnto God M [...] were offered
His honors, as his helmet, sword, and shield,
And last of all his braue and gallant steed.
The which when as Cassandra beheld,
And saw how all the company did crie,
And made great mone and sighed bitterly
For him, and with great lamentation
For all their friends that likewise had been slaine
And lost their liues in fight before the towne,
She was so grieu'd that she could not refraine
To cry, and sayd alas and well away,
That ere we saw this cursed dolefull day.
Oh most vnhappy wretches that you bee!
Ist possible that ere you should indure
The troubles and the woes that you shall see,
The which the Greeks vnto you will procure,
While they besiedge you round on euery side,
And seeke to be reuenged on your pride.
Most certaine tis, & that full well I know,
You can it not avoid, for without doubt
They will to you no grace nor mercy show,
But ere that many yeares shall come about,
Theyle kill and slay you cruelly each one,
And neuer leaue the siedge tell it be done.
Alas, alas, why do you not in time
Seeke with your Grecian foes to make a peace,
While that the warre as yet is in the prime,
And fore the sword of vengeance mercilesse,
And old and young doth execution,
And brings this towne vnto destruction?
When all the streets therein with children small▪
In woefull mothers armes heapt vp shall lie
With gastly wounds, and faces dead and pale,
Slaine by the Grecians furious cruelty.
And Maydens into Greece shall captiues goe,
And there bewaile in miserie and woe,
Their servitude, and losse of this our towne
That is so rich, so famous, and renownd;
Which by the Greeks shall sure be beaten downe,
And vtterly defaced to the ground:
And we perforce with patience must it beare,
Alas, wee buy Queene Helena too deare.
Sith for her foule and vnadvised rape,
All we shall die a death most pittious,
Yong, old, rich, poore, not any one shall scape,
The wrath of them shall be so furious
Gainst vs, and ours, and there's no remedy,
But onely death to end our miserie.
And thus did she with pittious noyse and cry,
Forewarne the King, her bretheren, and all
Within the towne, into what miseries,
By pride and their presumption they should fall:
And like to one that's mad, in every street
Run vp and downe, & told it all she meet.
Till Priamus her furious mood to stay,
Did cause her to be shut in prison fast,
And bound with chaines, and in that sort she lay
Close kept, the while the Grecians siege did last:
And could not once be heard, for no man would
Belieue nor credite her, though truth she told.
For neither wisedome, nor discretion,
Counsell nor wit, advise nor providence,
Truth, reason, nor yet good perswasion
Can ought availe, whereas no audience
Is given thereto. For were man nere so wise
In counselling by wisedome or advise,
And could by perfect art and learning know,
What could in time hereafter come to passe,
And would the same vnto the world foreshow,
The obstinate would count him but an asse:
For counsell with a foole prevaileth nought,
Nor truth likewise how deare so ere tis bought.
As we may by Cassandra see full well,
Who though she did such wholesome counsell giue
To them of Troye, and did the truth foretell
Of their decay, they would her not belieue,
But cast her into prison; Where a while
Ile leaue her, to the Greeks to turne my stile
And now will shew how king Palamides,
(While that the Greeks these two months still did lie)
Was so possest with envies foule disease,
That he disdaind and grudged scornfully
At all the Grecian Princes that gaue voyce;
And of King Agamemnon made their choyse,
To be the chiefe and Generall of that hoast,
And of so many Kings and Princes great
That there assembled were from every coast
Throughout the world, and said he was not meet,
Nor worthy of so great authority,
And that himselfe of greater dignity
Among the Greca [...]ns was, and bare more sway
Then ere he did, and fore them all dem'd
To follow him, or his command t'obay,
And said he would no longer there abide,
To yeeld to him the least subiection,
Sith he was not at his election.
Affirming that when choise of him they made,
There was no more but three Kings present there,
That thereto gaue consent and voyces had,
And thirtie Kings at least then absent were:
And therefore swone it was not his intent
Nor will, that he should haue that government.
(Here may you see and perfectly behold,
What mischiefe breedeth by contention,
Mong Princes and Commanders great that shold
Agree in one without dissention:
But envie and desire of rule is cause,
That makes men breake the God of peace his laws.
This cursed vice is cause of troubles great,
And mischiefes that in many Countries bee:
For when in Princes hearts it once doth get,
And maketh them contend and disagree,
That Kingdome cannot prosper nor encrease,
Till they agree againe and liue in peace.)
The which the Greeks considering well, forbare
To giue consent vnto Palamides,
And wisely sought by good advise and care,
To stop the course of envies sore disease:
And wrought so well with him, that in the end
He was content t'agree, and not contend
With them therein, but willing was to yeeld
Vnto their choyse, and did from strife surcease.
But now ile shew how they did meet in field,
On either side againe when as the peace
Was ended: and their battails did ordaine
Before the towne of Troye vpon the plaine.
The truce expyr'd, King Agamemnon made
A muster of the Greeks in generall,
And with all speed assoone as ere he had
Pervsed them, he did the Princes call
Together vnto him, and forth of hand
Appointed vnto every one a band,
By them to be conducted gainst their foe.
The first whereof Achilles forth did lead,
With Myrmidons which made a gallant shoe.
The second band was giuen to Di [...]mede.
Before the third King Menelaus did ride.
Duke Menestes the next and fourth did gi [...]de.
And after them there followed many moe,
All full of gallant Knights; but who they were
That guided them, the Storie doth not shoe,
And every one of them rich standards bare:
And in that sort they marched forth in hast,
In order as their Generall had them plast.
Hector likewise for his part was not slacke,
Within the towne his battailes to ordaine,
(But at that time how many he did make,
It is not said) and sent them to the plaine
Against the Greeks: the first whereof he gaue
To Troy [...]lus, conduct thereof to haue.
With whom great store of worthy knights did ride,
And after went the rest in order plast
With Hector, who no longer would abide,
But mounting on his horse road forth in hast
Before them all, and when he entered
Into the field, and saw Achilles lead
The forefront of the Greeks, he spurd his horse,
And with his Launce in rest most furiously
Ran at him with a great and mighty force.
The which when as Achilles did espie,
He set his spurs vnto his horses side,
And valiantly gainst Hector forth did ride.
And ere that they their course performd & met,
(Like two most gallant knights and excellent)
Their puissant Launces in their rests they set,
And gaue each other strokes so violent,
That forcibly they both fell to the ground,
(As many times it's often seene and found,
When two braue knights of equal strēgth do meet.)
But Hector strongst and nimblest of them both,
Rose first, and on his horse againe did get,
And left Achilles there exceeding wroth▪
And mong the Greeks in furious wise he rode,
And kild and slew all those that him withstood.
For with his sword such cruell blows he gaue,
Vnto the Greeks in brest, sides, legs, and head,
That who so ere he hit was sure to haue
His mortall wound, & on the ground lay dead:
And ever as he road it did him good,
To bath his sword within the Grecians blood.
And in that sort he still pursued his foes,
And many of them in furious wise had slaine,
Before that from the ground Achilles rose,
Who mounting vp vpon his horse againe,
Did enter mongst the Troyans valiantly,
And where he road, did slay them cruelly.
And beat & bore downe all that ere he met,
And made such slaughter mongst thē euery where
As he did ride, that no man durst him let,
For all before him to the ground he bare:
Till that in such his great melancholy,
He met with Hector riding sodainly.
And when as each the other did behold,
Without delay their speares in hand they tooke,
(Like two most braue couragious knights & bold,)
And to each other gaue a p [...]issant stroke:
But Hector hit Achilles with such force
Vpon the brest, that he fell off his horse.
And while that still vpon the ground he lay,
And ere that he againe got on his horse,
Hector advanst himselfe and did assaie,
Despight of them by force his horse to get:
But such a troope of Grecians came with speed,
To ayd and helpe Achilles in his need,
That he could not his purpose then attaine,
And by that meanes with great extreamity,
Achilles got vpon his horse againe,
And meaning to revenge the iniurie
He had receau'd, did straight to Hector goe,
And with his sword gaue him so great a blow
Vpon the head, that with the mighty force
And strength thereof, he was constraind to fall
Out of his sadle backe vpon his horse.
But presently, and in despight of all
The Greeks that him assaild by force and might
He reard himselfe, and like a valiant knight,
With heart repleat with anger and desire,
To be reveng'd of him for that despight,
In furious wise with extreame wrath and ire,
He stroke Achilles with such force and might,
That with the blow he gaue him in the head
A cruell wound, wherewith full sore he bled.
And yet although the bloud ran downe his face,
No whit abasht, but like a valiant knight,
He would not vnto Hector once giue place,
But still maintaind a fierce and cruell fight
With him, the which made all that saw't to wōder,
For every blow they gaue did sound like thūder.
And neither of them would the other spare,
But like two savage Tygars in their rage,
Each other strong and sturdy strokes they bare,
And by no meanes their chollers would asswage:
So that without all doubt assuredly,
It they held on with such hostility,
And in that cruell fight did long endure,
(They both behau'd themselues so valiantly)
In th'end the one or both of them must sure
Haue died there, without all remedy:
Which had great pittie been, for they were both
Exceeding valiant knights, and of great worth.
And while that they so fiercly fought together,
And neither would vnto the other yeeld,
The Greeks with many warlike troops came thither,
The which when as the Troyan knights beheld,
They likewise marched forward, and did enter
The field, against their foes their liues to venter.
And at that time so fiercely met together,
That with the prease twixt them on either side,
They did constraine those valiant knights to sever
Themselues, and each from other way to ride:
And then into the field came Diomede,
With all the knights that he as then did lead.
Who had no sooner entred in the place,
But with him stout and gallant Troyelus met,
And they encountring brauely face to face,
Vpon each other valiantly did set:
And ran together with such mighty force,
That each of them the other did vnhorse.
But Diomede first on his horse did get,
And sodenly Prince Troyelus assaild
(As he on foot did stand) with furie great,
But he whose valiant courage neuer faild:
So brauely him at that time did withstand,
That's enemie got nothing at his hand.
But Diomede with great dexsteritie,
Sitting with much advantage on his horse,
Lift vp his sword and sodainly let flie
A blow at Troyclus head with so great force,
That his rich circle full of iewe [...]s, stroke
Cleane off his Helme, & it in sunder broake.
But that could not yong Troyelus dismay,
No [...] make him once giue place or step aside,
For with his sword he presently did slay
The horse whereon prowd Diomede did ride:
And by that meanes constrained him to fight
On foot with him, and like a valiant Knight.
Vpon his foe in furious wise did set,
Whereas betweene them both they stoutly shewd
Their most couragious hearts and valor great,
And each the others ha [...]nas hackt and hewd:
And rent and tore't like Lyons fierce & strong,
And in that sort their fight continued long.
Till that the Greeks came thither, and by force
(While they on foote did fight so furiously)
Caus'd Diomede to mount vpon a horse,
And there withall the Troyans speedily
Brought Troyelus a horse likewise to ride,
And being mounted both againe, defied
Each other, and the fight continued
In equall sort, without advantage great,
Till it fell out at last that Diomede
By policie or fortune chanst to get
Advantage by some meanes on Troyelus,
(For no man alwaies is victorious.
Nor yet in peace or warre like fortunate,
For tis the doubtfull end of bloudy warre,
Now vp, now downe, still subiect vnto fate,
And therfore let each man himselfe prepare,
(Sith fickle fortune is so full of doubt)
To take his chance when as it falleth out.
And at that time layd hand vpon his horse,
(being then enclos'd by Grecians round about)
And tooke him for his prisoner, and by force
Among the prease began to lead him out:
Accompanyed with many a Grecian knight,
To gard and keepe him as they went by might.
For though it then fell out that Troyelus
Was tane perforce by Diomede in [...]ight,
He might by fortune proue victorious
Another time, and him therefore requite:
For that as it [...]ell out in little space,
He had not led him farre out of the place.
But multitudes of Troyans him assaild,
And maugre all the power of Diomede,
So mightily against the Greeks prevaild,
That they did rescue Troyelus in his need:
And him by force of armes from him did take.
And then began great slaughter for his sake
On either side, where many men were slaine,
On th'one side for to keepe him prisoner still,
On th'other side to set him free againe,
But yet in th'end the Troyans had their will:
And while the fight in this sort twixt them held,
King Menelaus did enter in the field.
Who all that day gainst Troyans brauely fought,
And busie was on them reveng'd to bee,
For malice that to them of old he ought,
The which when Paris not farre off did see:
With all his knights vpon him he did set,
And he with Greeks on him, & when they met
Betweene them both, on either side began
A cruell, fierce, and bloudy fight, which was
The death of many a braue and gallant man.
Hector meane time through thick & thin did passe, spill.
And neuer ceast in surious wise to kill
The Greeks, & in great streams their bioud to
For with his sword so many of them were slaine,
And beaten downe with extreame cruelty,
That they could not his puissant blowes sustaine,
But were constraind before his face to flye:
And when a lustie, yong, and gallant knight
Cald Boetes, saw with how great force & might
The Greeks were slaine by Hectors cruelty
On euery side, to win himselfe great fame,
And that record of him perpetually,
Might still be kept for th'onor of his name:
With courage bold & heart not once affeard,
He thought he would adventure him to beard.
The which when Hector saw, he did conceaue
Such wrath within his heart and great disdaine,
That with his sword he did his body cleaue,
Cleane downe from head to foot in pieces twaine,
And tooke his horse and sent it to the towne.
And then againe road fiercely vp and downe
Amongst the Greeks, and euer mercilesse,
With extreame force and heart couragious,
He kild all those that on him sought to presse,
Which when the valiant King Archilagus,
Perceau'd and saw his Cousin Boetes lie
By Hector slaine in that sort cruellie.
To be reveng'd on him for that despight,
With fury great vnto him he did goe,
And as at him he did begin to smight,
Hector vpon his shield receau'd the blowe:
And with his sword stroke him vpon the head
So mightily, that he therewith fell dead
Vpon the ground, his body cleft in twaine:
And though his armes were passing strong & good,
Yet could they not the mighty force sustaine
Of Hectors stroke that came with furious mood:
The which when King Protbenor did behold,
With great despight & courage fierce & bold,
(And yet in truth t'was but in foolish pride,)
He road to him in hast, and vnaware
Smote him a mighty blow vpon the side,
And him therewith out of his sadle bare,
And made him fall downe flat vpon the ground:
But Hector who in valor did abound,
In hast leapt vp vpon his horses backe,
And Prothenor pursued furiously▪
And when at last he did him ouertake,
He smote him with his sword so cruelly
Vpon the Helme, that with the blow he gaue,
His head and body to the brest he claue:
And downe he fell before the Greeks, who sore
Abashed were at that most cruell blow,
But specially Achilles grieu'd therefore,
And for the same his heart was full of woe:
To see his Cousin Prothenor lye slaine
Before his face, for which he felt such paine
And griefe in mind, that full of heauinesse
He road among the Grecian troopes, to see
If he could ease himselfe of his distresse,
And find the meanes with them reueng'd to bee
On Hector, for the death of Prothenor,
The which both he and they together swore,
And for the death of King Archilagus,
And to that end conspir'd among them all,
With many Grecian Knights chivalorous,
At once on Hector furiously to fall:
And him with speed on every side t'assaile,
But at that time it did them not availe.
For all that day such hauocke he did make,
And kild and hewd the Greeks so furiously,
That they on him could no advantage take,
But were constraind for their owne safety:
And for to shun the extreame force and might
Of him, and of the Troyans that did fight
At that time with so great agility,
And such a fierce assault vnto them gaue,
To leaue the field, and to recoyle and fly
Vnto their tents, and there themselues to saue:
And in their flight so beaten were & slaine,
That all the way along, & all the plaine
Lay full of dead and wounded Greeks that bled,
And gaspt, and groand, and howld, and cryed sore,
And still the Troyan Knights continued
The chase, and draue the Grecians more & more
Before them downe, till that it grew to night,
And waxed darke, & then for want of light,
The Troyans to their honor and renowne,
With Hector did retire, and entered
Victoriously againe into the towne,
And there themselues refreshed, cur'd, and fed:
Where till the day next morning gan to breake,
Ile let them rest, and of the Grecians speake:
When Hesperus the bright and glistring starre,
At euening in the West began t'appeare,
And spred his beames abroad both nere & farre,
And twilight with a pale and deadly cheare,
Did seeme to mo [...]ned he absence of the Sun,
And night approached with his mantle dun.
When Tytan did begin his leaue to take,
And to the Westerne coast in hast descond
At twilight, when the day an end doth make,
(For twy-light nothing else is but the end
Of day, and the beginning of the night,
And yet in truth is neither day nor night.
But iust a meane betweene them both doth beare,
Yet neither th'one nor th'other perfectly,
And comes before the glistring starres appeare,
To shew themselues within the azure skie.)
Their Generall King Agamemnon sent
For all the Grecian Princes to his tent.
And when that they therein assembled were,
And every one of them in order set,
With lookes demure and sad, and heauy cheare,
And many sighs which from their hearts they fet:
They did begin of Hector to complaine,
Affirming that they never should obtaine
That honor and renowne the which they fought,
Nor victorie against their foes should haue,
While he did liue and dailie gainst them fought,
And to that end they might their honors saue:
They did consult with one consent and will,
How that they might that valiant Chāpion kill.
Concluding that while he in Troye remaind,
They never should attaine the towne to win,
And said that he the same alone maintaind,
And that he was of all that dwelt therein,
The only stay and chiefe protection,
Of them and Troye, without exception.
And castle, wall, and bulwarke of their land,
And vnto them a sterne and deadly foe,
Whose mighty force the Greeks could not withstād,
Nor never should the Troyans overthrow:
Nor while that he did liue and them defend,
Bring that their doubtfull warre vnto an end.
And therefore all together did agree
With full and whole consent, that by some slight
When he should in the field most eager bee,
(To kill and slay the Grecians in the fight)
Achilles with his Knights should him beset,
And vnawares advantage of him get,
And with a mighty troope of Gre [...]kes a [...]a [...]e
Him round about and e [...]then [...]lay or take
Him quicke or dead, wherein they could no [...] [...]aile
If they would do't, and to that end did make
A motion to Achilles, to require
And pray him to accept of their desire.
To take in hand and brauely vndergoe,
That great and valiant enterprise to kill,
By force and slight their chiefe and deadly fo [...],
Who presently did grant vnto their will:
And from that time in wayt for him did lie▪
T [...]ntrap him and to kill him sodainly.
(But from thenceforth I counsell him beware
That he do not that action vndertake,
And if therein he needs will haue a share,
T'were best for him not too much hast to make:
To try his force gainst Hectors puissant mig [...],
Least fortune turne her face, and in despight
Looke on him with an angry frowning cheare,
And make him put his life in ieopardy,
And into Hectors hands light vnaware,
And in himselfe the Proverbe verifie:
He that doth for another set a trap,
Into the same himselfe may chance [...]o hap.
Which hardly he shall scape if that he trye.
For Hector had the like desire and will,
T'encounter with Achilles valiantly,
And him by all the meanes he could to kill:
As hauing vowd his death without all doubt,
If he on him could light to fight it out.
So that nought else but death he was t'attend,
If he and Hector chanst to meet in field)
And thus the Greeks their counsell then did end,
Which they for that intent had onely held:
And to their lodgings went their rest to take,
Till next day in the morne that they did wake.

CHAP. III.

I How the Troyans tooke King Thoas prisoner in the battaile, and led him captiue into the To [...].

WHen faire A [...]r [...]r [...] with her drops that thine,
Complaining made great dolor, griefe, and
And seemed for her childrēs death to whine, (sorow
As she doth vse to doe each Sommer morrow:
That is, when a [...] the dew that it so sweet,
Each pleasant flower, hearbe, & root doth weet,
With liquor cleare in Aprill and in May.
And when of day the Larke that's messenger,
Salutes A [...]r [...]r [...] faire in morning gray,
With sundry notes her woefull heart to cheare,
And ere the Sunne doth rise with ioyfulnesse,
Doth make her leaue her griefe and heauinesse:
At that same time the Grecians did arise,
And lustily with ioyfull hearts and cheare,
Put on such armes in braue and warlike wise,
As a [...] that time it was their vse to weare:
Intending earely that same day to goe
Into the field, to meet their deadly foe.
And Hector also fully purposed,
That day likewise against the Greeks to fight,
And early in the morning issued,
Accompanied with many a warlike knight:
All borne within the towne of Troye and bred,
Which formost of them all himselfe did lead.
Next after him Aeueas followed,
The second band to guide against their foe.
The third it was by worthy Paris led.
Before the fourth Deiphobus forth did goe.
The fift and last the lusty gallant knight
Yong Troyelus conducted to the fight.
In which fiue bands that issued out as then,
The History declareth that there were
An hundred and iust fiftiethousand men
On horse and foot, all able armes to beare:
And fully bent with will and courage great,
Vpon the Grecian foes that day to set.
And when they met together on each side,
With cruell and with deadly hatered,
And each against the other fiercely ride.
Paris that all the Persian Archers led,
And crossebow shot with arrows long & round,
And shafts that were square headed sharply ground.
Great store of Greeks in furious wise did kill,
And while that they their valors gainst them tride,
And that the field began with Knights to fill,
King Agamemnon on the Grecians side
Did enter in, with whome when Hector met,
In furious wise he did vpon him set.
And in the midst of all his troopes did cast
Him cleane out of his sadle to the ground,
And then did beat the Grecians downe so fast,
That many dead vpon the plaine were found▪
Till at the last Achilles that did watch,
And follow Hector, if he could to catch
Him in a trap, came s [...]denly and strake
So puissant a blow on Hectors head,
That with the same he did his Helmet cracke,
But nought therewith Hector astonished:
To set vpon Achilles did not faile,
Intending him in furious wise t'assaile,
Had not Aeneas come them two betweene,
And Troyelus with him, who both together
To set vpon Achilles did begin,
And with such mighty blows strake one the other,
That harnas, male, & plates of steele they b [...]ke,
And made each others shields & helmet crake.
And then on each side slaughter great began
So cruelly, that all the field was red
And dyed with bloud of many a valiant man.
At which time fierce and cruell Diomede,
By fortune in the prease Aeneas found,
To whome he gaue a great and deadly wound.
And therewith all said to him spightfully,
That's thy reward because thou dost malign
At me, and didst giue counsell foolishly,
In open Court to Priamus the King,
To slay me there when as I was before
Him in the hall, as Greeks Embassador.
Which was against all law of armes & right,
And trust me it shall nere out of my mind,
Till that I be reveng'd for that despight,
And for that cause if ere I chance to find
Thee in the field, if fortune doe consent,
Ile make thee for thy counsell to repent.
And with my sword which now in hand I beare,
Thy blood ile shed, to make thee feele & know
How it can cut, & therewith all did reare
His sword on high, and gaue him such a blow
Againe vpon the head with so great force,
That therewith all he feld him off his horse.
And while they fought, Hector Achilles met,
And him assaild so cruelly againe,
That with a blow that on his head he smet,
His helmet cleft almost in pieces twaine:
And had him brought to such extreamity,
That at that time without all remedy,
He would him there perforce haue prisoner [...]ane,
I Diomede had not by chance come thither,
The quarrell of Achilles to sustaine:
And with his sword while they two fought together,
To Hector gaue a blow that hurt him sore,
But he nothing at all dismaid therefore.
Straight turnd his horse about to Diomede,
And smote him with his sword so furiously,
That with the blow he feld him off his steed.
The which assoone as Troyelus did espie,
Without delay off from his horse he light
Vpon his feet, with Diomede to fight.
Who then together fought so valiantly,
That no man that beheld them well, could tell
Which of them both should haue the victorie,
For each of them in Knighthood did excell.
And while they two together so did fight,
Hector againe vpon Achilles light,
And on him set with fierce▪ and furious mood,
Where twixt them both a gallant fight was seene,
And each his foe so fiercely then with stood,
A [...] two cruell Lyons they had been.
Meane time the Greeks with many a gallant wing
Of Knights, came on with Menelaus the King,
With great desire vpon their foes to set.
And next to him did march Neoptolemus.
Then wise Ulisses, aud stout Pollimet.
Palamides, and valiant Selemus.
Duke Menestes, Duke Nestor, and King Thoas.
Currinulus, and then Philoctheas.
And lastly with the rereward followed
Duke Theseus with a band of gallant men.
And on the Troyans side there entered,
All those that to the towne were come, as then
Against the Greekes to helpe them in their need,
And all the Kings by whom they then were led.
And none did stay behind but Hectors band,
Wherewith that day himselfe had issued,
And at that time did valiantly withstand
Their Grecian foes, and then much bloud was shed
On either side; for that most cruell fight
Procur'd the death of many a valiant Knight.
And while the fight twixt them continued thus,
It was King Agamemnons chance to meet
Among the prease with stout Pantisilaus,
And on him there in furious wise did set,
And he on him likewise, and in their course
Each strake the other down off from his horse.
And Menelaus againe on Paris set,
And each to other furiously did ride,
And when they both together fiercely met,
King Menelaus hit Paris on the side
A blow, which though it hurt him not at all,
Yet he was forst downe from his horse to fall.
Wherewith in heart he was exceeding wrath,
And at that time did seeme to blush for shame,
Least Helena should know't, as being loath
That it against his honor, name, and same,
Should vnto her be told, that by maine force,
King Menelaus had thrown him from his horse.
And then the valiant King Adrastus met
Ulisses in the prease, and there together
A while they fought with force and courage great,
Without advantage one against the other:
But at the last Vlisses stroke a blow
At him so hard, that it did overthrow
Him to the ground, and then he tooke his horse,
And sent it by his Squire to his tent.
Then valiant King Palamides by force
King Hupon did assaile, and they two spent
Long time in fight, till with great cruelty,
Palamides a blow at him let flie
With so great force, that it did wound him sore,
And therewith all dead to the ground he fell.
Not farre from them two pikes length & no more,
Neoptolemus, who did in force excell,
Assailed King Archilagus, whereas
Betweene them both a valiant fight there was,
Till in the end each th'other did vnhorse.
Then to the field came stout Pollidamas
Vpon a gallant steed of mighty force,
And when he did perceiue and saw, whereas
The valiant King Palamides did ride,
He set his spurs vnto his horses side,
And ran at him with such exceeding force,
That maugre all his valor and his might,
He gaue him such a blow that from his horse,
He threw him on the ground with great despight:
For to revenge King Hupous death, whome he
Had slaine before with extreame cruelty.
Not farre from thence King Selemus did set
Vpon a King cald Carras, and by force,
When they in furious wise together me [...]
Selemus threw King Carras off his horse▪
On th'other side King Phil [...]m [...]ns assaild
The worthy Duke of Athens, and preuaild
So much gainst him that [...]ally by force,
(Although he was both valiant, stout, & strong)
And fought right well, he tooke from him his horse,
And led it in his hand with him along.
And worthy King Phil [...]ct [...] did fight
With R [...]mus, and each of them both did smight
The other from his horse. And Theseus,
As he amongst his Troyan foes did fight,
By chance did meet with King Coriolus,
A Prince of passing valor, force and might:
Where twixt the both the fight continued long,
(For Theseus likewise was exceeding strong.)
Till each the other wounded sore did smight
Off from his horse, and rising vp againe
Vpon their feet, still valiantly did fight
A fierce and bloudy combate, to otaine
The victory against his mortall foe,
For each of them great prowesse then did shoe.
And all this while the sons of Priamus
Behau'd themselues so valiantly in fight,
And gainst the Greeks like Knights couragious,
Such valor shewd that by their force and might,
Great store of Kings, Dukes, Lords, & knights were slaine,
And many Greeks laid dead vpon the plaine.
And at that time renowmed Thelamon,
With speare in hand set spurs vnto his horse,
And furiously ran at King Sarpedon,
Who likewise at him ran with mighty force:
And each the other mortally did wound,
And in that sort they both fell to the ground.
And after they a furious fight had held,
And cut and mangled each the other sore,
Whē neither of them both their armes could weld,
They were constraind to breath and fight no more:
And mongst the horses feet in danger stood,
And all the ground about thē dide with blood.
While Thoas and Achilles that had spide
Where Hector fought in midst of all his foes,
Vnto him in most furious wise did ride,
And vnawares they did him round enclose:
And with great spight which they vnto him bore,
They did assaile and set on him so sore,
That they did smight his helmet from his head,
And in the same gaue him a mighty wound,
But he therewith no whit astonished,
(For in him never cowardise was found,)
Most valiantly against them both did fight,
And many furious blows at them did smite.
So that advantage none on him they got,
Till Thoas did a blow at him let flie,
Wherewith his nose off from his face he sm [...],
The which when as his brethren did espye
The Grecians, they so furiously assaild,
And at that time so much gainst them preuaild,
That Thoas valiaritly by them was tane,
And Thelamon assaild so cruelly,
That they supposing him to haue beene slaine,
Vpon the ground for dead did let him lye:
Till that his men did beare him to his tent,
And Thoas prisoner vnto Troy was sent,
Despight of all the Grecian knights that sought
To giue him ayd in that extremity.
And Menelaus as he in field then tought,
And road from place to place, at last did spie
Where Paris did the Grecians fiercely slay,
(For whom he had in wait laine all that day.)
And presently his horse he spurd in hast,
And ran at him, intending if he might,
Ere that he further mongst the Grecians past,
To kill him sodainly with great despight:
But his intent and purpose to prevent,
Paris that had his puissant bow then bent,
At him did let a poysoned arrow fly,
And gaue him therewith all a deadly wound,
Wherewith he was in such extremity,
That he fell downe halfe dead vpon the ground:
Which when his knights did see that then were nere
Forthwith vnto his tent they did him beare.
Where with all speed for Surgions straight he sent,
Who being come, in hast they searcht the wound
And ere that they into it put a tent,
When as they had it viewd vnto the ground,
They first of all drew out, and tooke away
The arrow head that in the bottome lay.
And then did wipe and clense it thorowly
Of all the matter and corruption
That they could find therein, and presently
Put in a tent, and bound it vp, which done,
King Menelaus no longer would abide,
But furiously into the field did ride.
With full intent and purpose to require
Himselfe, (although he had so great a wound,)
On Paris that same day if that he might,
And never ceast vntill that he him found:
By fortune cleane vnarmed in the field,
Of sword or Launce, of Target or of shield,
Or Bow in hand, the which as I suppose,
He did for to refresh himselfe, when as
He had long fought against his Grecian foes,
And at that time exceeding wearie was:
Which Menelaus espying, straight did take
His Launce in hand, & towards him did make:
And without doubt at that time had him slaine,
Had not Aeneas been that him beheld,
And sodainly stept in betweene them twaine,
And did receaue the blow vpon his shield:
Else Paris had assuredly been kild,
At that same time disarmed in the field.
And presently Aeneas set a band
Of valiant Knights on Paris to attend,
And to defend his person, and withstand
The furie of King Menelaus: to th'end
He should him not with disadvantage slay,
For he in wait at that time for him lay.
And had as then by Hector taken been,
If that the Greeks had not come sodainly,
To rescue him with multitudes of men,
And at that time relieu'd him speedily:
But Hector by his valor great & might,
Dispersed, kild, and put them vnto flight.
So furiously that he did them constraine,
By force of armes vnto their tents to run,
And by that meanes the Troyans did obtaine
The battaile gainst the Greeks, & th'onor wun
That day, and fore them brauely did pursue
And beat them, till the day to euening drew.
And Phoebus did descend into the West.
For he as then was ready to go downe,
At which time they went home to take their rest:
And entering againe into the towne,
Shut fast their gates, and so that day did end.
And when that Phoebus light againe did send,
Next morning when the skie was covered
With crimson coloured clouds which he then sent,
And ere the azure element did spread,
Before the Sun did rise in th'orient,
King Priamus intending not to goe
That day into the field against his foe;
His Privie Counsell summond to appeare
Before him that same morning speedily,
Whose names (as I in Guido find) then were
Hector the flower and root of Chivalry,
His second brother Paris, Deiphobus,
And lusty, yong, and worthy Troyelus.
Anthenor, and his son Pollidamas,
Aeneas, and some other Princes more.
And when that he with them assembled was,
And that they had shut fast the counsell dore,
Each one in order set and silence made,
King Priamus vnto them spake, and said:
My Lords, in whome my trust I do repose,
And onlie on your valors doe relie,
You know that mongst our sterne & deadly foes,
King Thoas (now our pris'ner) specially,
Did alwaies vnto vs great hatred beare,
(Although of him we never stood in feare,)
And to his power hath sought vs to offend,
And now to seeke our full subversion,
With all the aid that he the Greeks can lend,
Is come with them here to besiege our towne,
And to procure our ruine and decay,
By all the meanes that possibly he may.
Wherefore in reason and in equity,
(If vnto you it be acceptable,
And that it liketh you as it doth me)
I thinke it not a thing vnreasonable:
That sith he seeks to do vs iniurie,
With like for like he should required be.
And as our deaths he seeketh to procure,
So let him die; for reason doth require,
That he the selfe same censure should endure,
Which he in heart to others doth desire:
This is my doome, now let me heare I pray,
What euery one of you thereto will say.
To this Aeneas answere made and said,
If to your Grace it will be no offence,
That to the proposition you haue made
I may reply, with leaue and audience
Of you and of your counsell learnd & wise,
I will to you herein giue mine advise.
It doth behooue your Royall Maiestie,
In all things which your Grace in hand shall take,
Not to proceed therewith too hastily,
But ere that you begin your reckning make,
What may ensue thereof, and looke not on
The first beginning of a thing alone:
But as all wise men do, forecast the end,
And then proceed that you may bring to passe,
With issue good, the same which you pretend.
For that thing sure is well begun, when as
The end and the beginning both agree,
And either of them fals out happilie.
Least otherwise for want of good forecast,
You might constrained be another day,
Against your will t'repent your selfe at last.
The reason why I this to your Grace say,
Is, that I thinke it good you should remember,
That Thoas who is now your prisoner,
Is mongst the Greeks one of the principall
And greatest Lords of bloud and high degree:
And that if at this time it should befall,
He should be put to death by your decree,
It may be that all those that giue consent
Thereto, at last full sore would it repent.
For if by chance (which no man can withstand)
Some of your Sons or chiefe Nobilitie
Now in this towne, should fall into the hand
Of them, and by that meanes should prisoners be:
Assure your selfe, they'le shew like gentlenes
To them, as you do him in this distresse.
For if King Thoas now condemn'd should be
And put to death, you must your reckning make,
The Grecians will shew vs like crueltie,
If any of vs they should prisoner take:
Yea, though it were one of your Royall blood,
The which I know for all your worldlie good,
You would by no meanes wish, nor gladlie see.
Wherefore by mine aduise I thinke it best,
That Thoas should well kept and garded bee
Within this towne, and quietlie let rest:
Least as I said to you before, it may
Fall out, that one of vs another day
Might hap into their hands, and prisoner be:
And so for him we might haue ours againe;
Which otherwise if with extreamitie
We do proceed, we never should obtaine:
This is my counsell in this case, said he,
And such as I do thinke the best to be.
Whereto most worthy Hector did consent,
And with him was of like opinion:
And said, that he no will had nor intent,
That any wrong to Thoas should be done,
While he in Troy then prisoner was, though he
Nere had deseru'd of them well vs'd to be.
Paris King Priams second son likewise,
(When as his brother Hector had declar'd
His mind,) said vnto them, that his aduise
Was, that he wisht King Thoas should be spar'd,
And not put vnto death, although he said,
To doe the same they need not be afraid.
But Deiphobus of cleane contrarie mind,
Vnto his brethren twaine did say, he saw
No cause why Thoas should such favor find
At Troyans hands; who by their marshall law,
Might iustlie for his merits make him die,
Being as he was their vtter enemie.
Whereto with courage bold & youthfull heart,
Prince Troyelus, did seeme somewhat t'agree
With Deiphobus, and said, that for his part,
He did no cause nor any reason see,
Why they should spare their enemie, that sought
Their overthrow, and to that end had brought
His forces fore their towne, as fullie bent
To worke their vtter ruine and decay:
But yet (said he) it is not my intent,
To counsell you to deale with him that way:
Least (as my Lord Aeneas saith) we might
Perchance thereby procure our owne despight.
Whose counsell Lord Anthenor did commend,
And said, that to shew such extreamitie
Of marshall Law, and rigor, to extend
To him, could not be done advisedlie:
For that (said he) there is none of vs all,
But may into our foes hands chance to fall:
And with the selfe same rigor vsed be,
That vnto him we shewd. Wherefore I say,
If that by my advise you'le ruled be,
It's best to let him safe in prison stay,
And vse him well, that we like cur [...]esie
May haue (when need requires) of th'enemy.
Pollidamas his sonne, with all the rest
Of those that in their Counsell chamber were,
With one consent did say they thought it best,
That he should still be kept a prisoner:
And as Aeneas said, be vsed well,
Till they saw how fortune with thē would deale.
But Priamus to wrath and furie bent,
Did not agree to their opinion,
And would by no meanes therevnto consent,
But still maintain'd his first conclusion:
And said, that if the Greeks should once perceiue,
That we of life do Thoas not bereaue,
But spare him, though vnto that end it were:
They would report to our no little shame,
That we dare not attempt to do't for feare
We haue of them, and so will vs defame:
But nere the lesse (said he) sith you're content,
I will (though loath) vnto the same consent.
And therewithall their counsell vp they brake:
And then Aeneas and Anthenor went
With Troyelus into the hall, and spake
With Helena, (whereas some time they spent
With her, and with Queene Hecuba that bare
Her company, with many Ladies faire,
That with her & the Queene then present were.
Where Troyelus and Aeneas did perswade
Queene Helena to set aside all feare,
Which by the meanes of war that great she had:
And she, although much discontent she were
In outward shew, did seeme with ioyfull cheare,
And countenance demure, & being glad
To welcome them as to their state was fit,
But Hecuba that nere her equall had,
For vertue, bountie, eloquence, and wit:
While they vnto Queene Helena so spake,
Desired them for that faire Ladies sake.
And for the weale and safety of them all,
And of the towne, that they would not adventer
Themselues in field what ever might befall,
Too farre among the enemies to enter:
Nor put themselues in danger carelesly,
And yet besought them to fight valiantly,
To saue and keepe the towne from that distresse,
Which th'enemy did seeke to bring't into,
The which she said she fear'd (she must confesse)
Although she hope't they should it never do:
And so of her and of the Ladies all,
The knights tooke leaue & went out of the hall.
Meane time the Greeks that morning as I said,
While Priam in the towne a counsell held,
Did murmure & great sorow mongst them made,
As in their tents they lay in th'open field:
To thinke vpon the losse which they sustaind,
And all of them together much complaind.
And grieued for the death of many a man
Of great account, slaine by the cruelties,
(Since that most cruell deadly war began)
And valor of their Troyan enemies:
And for the hunger, cold, and thirst also,
With sorow, thought, vnquietnes and woe,
Which they had had and felt, & all for nought,
Or at the least for causes very small,
If that the ground thereof were truely sought.
This was the speech and words in generall,
That through the Grecians campe at that time ran,
And currantly did passe from man to man.
But specially amongst the poorer sort
Of soldiers, who in war most commonly
Constrained are t'endure, and to support
The brunt of all, and haue no remedy:
For though they do find fault & grieue therfore,
Yet are they not relieued nere the more.
And so they did complaine & make great mone,
To thinke vpon the mischiefe they endured,
And which to them the Troyan knights had done,
Thogh't were thēselues that had the same procured:
Vnto their owne decay, and might it shun,
If they had not that bloudy war begun.
Which to encrease the next ensuing night,
So cloudy, darke, and thicke as pitch became,
That neither Moone nor star appear'd in sight,
And such a storme did happen on the same,
Of thunder, lightning, wind, & raine that fell
Vpon them, as if all the fiends of hell,
Conspired had their vtter overthrow,
And therewithall the waters did so rise,
That all the field and plaine did overflow:
And with the wind that blew in furious wise,
Their tents were overthrowne, & they compeld
To leaue the place which all that while they held.
By reason that the water grew so hie.
And in that sort the Greeks in great distresse,
Compelled were all that same night to lie,
With hearts repleate, with griefe and heauinesse:
In that great storme of thunder, wind, & raine,
Vntill the water did go backe againe.
The wind appeas'd, and day began t'appeare,
Next morning when the Sun began to rise,
Which made the aire shew beautifull and cleare,
And draue away the clouds out of the skies:
And with the force and feavor of his heat,
Dried vp the ground which was exceeding weet.
And made the moysture voyd out of the plaine,
At which time somewhat eased of their sorrow,
They did with speed their tents raise vp againe,
And ioyfully with courage bold that morrow,
Did arme themselues in braue and warlike wise.
With full intent t'assaile their enemies.
And when the field was thorow dried againe,
With Phoebus beames, the Troyans left the towne,
And valiantly came forth into the field,
And were no sooner to the Greeks come downe,
But stout Achilles met them in the way,
And was the first that th'onset gaue that day.
Who entring in the field without abode,
In furious wise set spurs vnto his horse,
And valiantly to strong King Hupon road,
At whome he stroke with such a mighty force:
That with his Launce he gaue him such a wound,
That dead he fell therewith vpon the ground.
Then Hector with King Octamene did meet,
And each the other valiantly assaild,
But Hector with such furie on him s [...]t,
That neither force nor armor strong preuaild:
But with his Launce he pierst his heart in twaine,
That he therewith fell dead vpon the plaine.
At which time furious Diomede did wound
The worthy valiant Prince King Zantippus,
So sore that he fell dead vpon the ground.
And then in furious wise King Cedius,
And valiant King Epistrophus his brother,
Assaild and set on Hector both together.
And first of all Epistrophus began
To spurre his horse with mighty speare in hand,
And with the same at Hector fiercely ran,
And spightfully at him did curse and band,
And many raging words to him did giue,
Which Hector at the heart so much did grieue,
That he at King Epistrophus let f [...]ye
So great a blow, and with such mighty force,
That with the same he kild him furiously,
And as he fell downe dead off from his horse,
He bad him goe vnto the fiends of hell,
And there such bragging words vnto them tell,
For here (said he) there's no man doth them feare,
Nor any whit at all for them doth care.
Which words when as King Cedius chanst to heare,
He did in heart like to a mad man fare:
And for his death so grieued was in thought,
That with the knights that he with him had broght,
He did on Hector set with great despight,
And him on euery side enclosed round,
(While he against his enemies did fight)
And forcibly stroke him vnto the ground:
And while with them on foot he fighting stands,
King Cedius with his sword in both his hands
At Hector smote a blow most furiously,
Intending to haue slaine him without faile,
But Hector watched him so narrowly,
That all the force he had could not preuaile:
For ere his puissant blow descended downe,
Hector sore moou'd with indignation,
Lift vp his sword▪ and vnto him did giue
A blow, the which his arme cleane off did smight,
And with a second blow did him bereaue
Of life and all: and while he thus did fight.
Aeneas like a Lyon furious,
Couragiously slew King Amiphimacus.
Then to the field came in King Menelaus.
And after followed stout king Thelamon.
And then the valiant Duke Menesteus.
And worthy valorous king Machaon.
And last of all king Agam [...]mnon went
With them, t'assaile the Troyans fully bent.
Wdo valiantly themselues did long defend
Against the Greeks, and held them at a bay
With equall fight, vntill that in the end
As it did grow to noone-time of the day:
When they had each the other long assaild,
The Greeks gainst thē of Troy so much preuaild,
That forcibly they made them to retire,
And backe to goe of meere necssity.
And while Achilles fought with furious ire,
He slew King Philon with great cruelty:
And Hector to requite the Greeks therefore,
Despight of them did slaie king Alphenor.
And then another King cald Dorius.
And did the Greeks so valiantly withstand,
That like a Lyon fierce and furious,
By vertue of his strong and mighty hand,
The Troyans many Grecian knights did slay,
And valiantly forst them to fly away.
And then out of the towne of Troy there came
The worthy King Epistrophus that brought
A gallant band of men, and with the same
So furiously against the Grecians fought:
That by maine force he made them leaue the plain,
And giue vnto the Troyans place againe.
For with him in his company he had
An Archer of such strange proportion,
And monstrously and woonderfully made,
That men had him in admiration:
For from the middle vpward to the crowne
He was a man, and from the middle downe
Like to a horse he was proportioned,
In each respect for forme and feature.
His skin it was all hairy, rough, and red,
And yet although this monstrous creature
Had man-like face, yet did his color show
Like burning coles that in the fire glow.
His eyes they did two furnases resemble,
As bright as fier, whereby all that him met,
The very sight of him did make them tremble,
And from their hearts deepe sighs for feare to fet,
His face it t'was so fowle and horrible,
And looke so vgly, fierce, and terrible.
His manner was to goe into the field
Vnarmed of all weapons whatfoere,
And never vsed, sword, speare, axe, nor shield,
But in his hand a mighty bow did beare.
And by his side a sheafe of arrowes hung,
Bound fast together with a lether thong.
Wherewith he did his enemies withstand,
And shot so strong, so mightely, and sure,
That wheresoere he fought on sea or land
No armor could against his shot endure.
Nor any horse how fierce soere he were,
Durst looke on him, so much they did him feare.
For of him they no sooner had a fight,
(He was in all mens eies so odio [...]s,)
But they would run from him with all their might,
As from a Divell fowle, and monstrous.
Nor any man though neare so strong a Knight,
Could raine or hold his horse by force or might,
If that he once this monster chaust to see,
But furiously it would start back, and fling
And neighing loud, and snorting, way did flee.
This hideous beast did many Grecians bring
With arrowes sharpe and strong vnto their end,
For armour could them not from him defend,
So that not any one durst him abide,
When they him saw, (so much they did him doubt)
But spedely away from him did ride.
Till in the end that it by chance fell out,
While that the Troians by his ayd did chase
And slay, and driue the Greeks before their face▪
Vnto their tents, with extreame feare and dread,
He did by fortune meet full in the face
Hard by a tent, with valiant Diomede,
Who for because it was in such a place,
Where he could not this hideous moster shun,
Vnlesse he should in greater danger run.
(For at his backe so many Troians were,
That flie from him he could not any way
But must of them be slaine, or taken there.)
When as he saw he must of force needs stay,
With courage bold he did vnto him go,
B [...]t ere that he could strike at him a blow,
The monster let an arrow fiercely flie
At Diomede, and gaue him such a blow
That with the same he bled exceedingly,
Wherewith he was in heart offended so
That furiously vnto him straight he went,
And ere that he his bow againe had bent,
Stept into him and with exceeding force
Gaue such a dangerous deepe and fatall wou [...]d
Vnto that monster Demy man and horse,
That dead he fell down groueling on the ground.
Whose death when as the Grecians did behold
Abandoning all feare, with courage bold
They did vpon the Troians set ag [...],
And furiously constrained them to [...]i [...]
And to retire in hast into the plaine,
Where Duke Policinare most valiantly
Great store of them did of their liues bereaue
Whose crueltie when Hector did perceiue.
In furious wise he did vpon him set,
And slew him with his sword wi [...]h great despight.
And then as he by chance Achilles met,
Couragiously and like a hardy Knight
With launce in rest he ran at him amaine,
And he at him, with purpose to haue slaine
Each th'other if they might, and in their wroth,
So fiercely strake each other on the shield.
That with their blowes they were vnhorsed both,
And laid along flat downe vpon the field.
But fierce Achilles with dispightfull hart,
First vp againe into his sadle start.
And sought by all the meanes he could to take
Gallathe Hectors horse if that he might,
With full intent a prey thereof to make.
And hauing tane't to Hectors great despight,
He gau't his men to lead out of the field,
And Hoctor by that meanes was then compeld
To fight on foot, amongst his deadly foes,
Who in most furious wise on them did fall▪
And kild, and beat them downe with mighty blowes,
And then vnto his Troian Knights did call,
And willed them vpon the Greeks to set,
And forcibly his horse from them to get.
And they in hast to rescue it againe,
Achilles did assaile, and gainst his will
Tooke it by force from him vpon the plaine,
And brought it vnto Hector, who the while
The Grecians fiercely slew with great despight,
And then by force most like a valiant Knight,
Despight of all that round about him keapt,
And like Smiths on an anvell at him stroke,
Vpon his gallant horses backe he leapt.
And by maine [...]orce through thickest of them broke
And then againe so fiercely with them fought,
That they his wrath and anger dearely bought.
And mongst them riding bramely here and there
Like Lion strong the Greeks did wound and slay,
So furiously, that cleane po [...]est with feare,
As death, his sword they shun'd, and fled away.
And by that meanes the Troians did begin
Vpon the Greeks the field againe to win.
But it befell in [...] so furious fight,
That vnawares Anthenor went so farre
Amongst the Greeks, that by maine force & might,
They did him for their prisoner take, and bare
Him straight frō thēce vnto their tents with speed.
And yet his sonne to helpe him at his need,
Spard neither paine nor valor to relieue
And rescue him, but all was labor lost,
For which at heart he did so free and grieue,
That many a Grecians life that time it cost,
By valor great which he as then did show,
But for because the sonne then waxed low
And it began in hast to draw to night,
They made an end and fought no more as then,
Because at that same time they wanted light,
And either side retired with their men.
The Greeks vnto their tents vpon the plaine.
The Troians went into the towne againe,
And rested there, till morning did appeare,
When Phoebus gan his glistring beames to shew,
And Dame Aurora with most ioyfull cheare,
The hearbs and flowers did moisten with her deaw,
And hungd her siluer drops like pearles fine,
On euery bush which gainst the Sun did shine.
And show themselues so orient and so cleare
On every valley, hill, and pleasant greene,
In morning when the Crimson clouds appeare,
And in the skies most beautifull are seene.
Vntill the heat of Phoebus glistring beames
Dries vp their moisture with his fiery streames.
And makes the vaper mount into the aire,
When as the skie did not exceed with heat,
And that the weather shew'd both cleare and faire,
Which time the Troians purposed to meet
Then foes, and with most braue & warlike show,
In order plast, into the field did goe.
Gainst whom likewise the Grecians valiantly
Did goe into the field, and when they met
And each the others armies did espie,
They did vpon each other fiercely set,
And presently great store of launces broke,
And many a mighty, strong, and cruell stroke
On either side was giuen, and many a shield
With axes, billes, and trenchant [...]ades were cl [...]
And many a Knight sore wounded in the field:
In little space was of his life bereft:
And such a cruel laughter there was then
On either side, that many thousand men
That day were brought vnto confusion.
But greatest losse on Troians side did fall,
Yet Guido of no Prince makes mention
That then was slaine, but speakes in generall.
And saith that cruell fierce and bloody fight,
Betweene them held from morning vnto night.
Which Troians for their parts full dearely bought,
For Fortune then vnto them was no friend,
But rather with the Grecians gainst them fought.
And so when day did draw vnto an end,
The Troians went againe into the towne,
The while the Greeks vnto their tents went down
And there did rest till they againe could see,
At which time all the Grecian Princes met,
And mongst them did with one consent agree
To send vnto the towne of Troy, to get
A truce for 3 moneths space, to which intent
Ulisses and fierce Diomede were sent,
That message vnto Priamus to beare.
And when vnto the gates of Troy they came,
A Troian Knight cald Dolon met them there,
And courteously convaid them through the same,
And brought them to King Priams royall hall,
Where he then sat amongst his Princes all.
Where they to him their message briefely told,
Which was a truce for 3 moneths space to haue,
If he would be content the same to hold.
To whom the King a friendly countenance gaue,
And sayd he would advise of counsell take,
And then to them he would an answere make.
And they did all agree and were content
To yeild vnto the Greeks in that respect,
Saue Hector, who thereto would not consent,
But at the first their motion did reiect.
And did affirme that t'was but meere deceit
By them then vsed, of Priam time to get.
And that two things them therevnto procur'd,
First, that they might haue time and libertie
To bury all their dead, while truce endur'd,
And vnder colour thereof, secretly
More victualls to prouide, which they did want,
And which as now with them was very scant,
And by that meanes the famine to preuent
Which then was in their campe, with pollicie,
He sayd he knew was only to th'intent
That they the longer there in siege might lie,
And being well prouided of each thing
That needfull is sayd he they might vs bring.
While they increase, and we decrease our store,
Into great want and famine at the last,
For by their meanes we can prouide no more,
And this (sayd he) is it which they forecast:
For that which doth for their advantage make,
For certaine, doth from vs advantage take.
Yet nerethelesse (sayd he) what did befall,
Sith to the truce you willingly agree,
I will not be repugnant to you all,
No [...] gainst so many striue and disagree.
And so they did consent on either side
That for 3 moneths the truce should firmly bide.
And be obseru'd, that while it did indure,
Such as sore wounds and sickenesse doe oppresse,
Might time and leasure haue their wounds to cure,
And for their paine and sicknesse seeke redresse:
And while the truce for that time did abide,
It was twixt them agreed on either side,
That to procure Anthenors liberty,
Who at that time the Grecians prisoner had,
King Thoas then held in captiuity
Within the towne, should for him free be made,
And neither ransome pay: but while they sat
In counsell thereupon, it chanced that
The Troian Bishop Calchas cald to mind,
And thought vpon his daughter Cresida,
Whom he left in the towne of Troy behind,
When he the same forsooke, and went away
At Delos to the Greeks, for whom in hart
He dayly felt great sorrow, woe, and smart.
Supposing that she being there alone,
Should for his sake (because of his offence
And treason, which without occasion
Gainst Troians he had done,) in his absence
Be hardly vsd, and little favor find,
For which he was full sore perplext in mind:
And made account, that he should neuer be
Releast nor freed from extreame griefe, and paine,
Till he his daughter Cresida did see,
And that she were restor'd to him againe:
And therefore still within his mind forecast
While that the time of 3 moneths truce did last,
How he mihgt her relieue and get away
Out of the towne of Troy, where he her left:
And to that end vpon a certaine day,
As one that were of comfort cleane bereft,
Sore weeping in great woe and heauinesse,
He did himselfe vnto the Greeks addresse.
And humbly on his knees before them fell,
And with great floods of teares submissiuely,
His hard and woefull state to them did tell,
Beseeching them with great humilitie,
On him and his t'haue compassion,
And to procure him restitution.
Of Cresida his child and onely ioy,
Whom he because he had the Troians left,
Durst not goe fetch out of the towne of Troy,
Least he by them should of his life be reft:
Desiring them that they a meanes would be,
That she might be exchanged, and set free
With Thoas, for Anthenor, which he thought
If they to his request would giue consent,
By their good mediation might be wrought,
And they for Calchas sake were all content.
And presently a messenger did send
To Priam King of Troy vnto that end.
To whom they gaue expresse commission,
To bring their sure for Cresida to pas,
But when the Troians hard their motion,
And found that it for Calchas daughter was;
Whose Father was become so odious
To all the towne, and to King Priamus,
That all men sayd he was a traitor false,
And for his treason great and trechery
Well worthy to be hanged by the hal [...]e,
And that he well deserued had to die
A farre more cruell death, for by the law,
They sayd, they should his traitrous body draw
Vnto the place of execution,
And hang it there till that halfe dead it were,
And in that sort with speed to cut it downe,
And it in quarters foure to cut, or teare.
And said sith that he was so badly bent
To Troy, that death was not sufficient.
For his offence, and answere therefore gaue,
That sith he had such treason gainst them wrought
They flatly sayd he should no fauour haue
Of them therein, nor yet would graunt to ought
That might his mind in any wise content,
Nor should his daughter Cresida be sent
To him as he requird, but flatly sayd
If they could euer hands vpon him lay
He should haue that which he deserued had,
And vnto his request sayd flatly nay.
But at the last allthough with much adoe
They were content, and granted therevnto.
For Prians King of Troy his sentence gaue,
That she with Thoas should exchanged be,
And both of them should for Anthenor haue
Their free discharge out of captiuitie.
Which his decree with Princely promise seald,
The Troians could by no meanes get repeald.
But must the same against their wils fulfill,
And by that meanes she did from Troy depart,
Although it were full sore against her will,
For that much grieu d and vexed at the heart,
Great sorrow and complaint therefore she made,
Which when time serues vnto you shall be sayd.

CHAP. IIII.

¶ How during the time of the three moneths truce, Hector went into the Greekes campe, and there spake with Achilles, and what speeches past between them at that time,

THe truce confirmd as I before did say,
And for three moneths agreed on either side,
It chanced that vpon a certaine day
Hector out of the towne of Troy did ride,
And with him many Lords of high degree,
Determining the Grecians campe to see.
And entring thereinto directly went
With courarge stout and bold, (saluting none
That with him met) vnto Achilles tent,
For he was mou'd with great affection,
To speake with him although he did intend
If that he could, to bring him to his end.
And truth to say Achilles had as much
And great desire of Hector t'haue a sight,
(Though as his foe he bare him mighty grutch,
Intending his destruction if he might.)
Because he nere had meanes nor libertie
Hector vnarmd at any time to see.
And when that they together both were met,
And each be held the other for a while,
As in that sort they were together set.
Achilles vpon Hector gon to smile,
And sayd, great pleasure Hector tis to me,
That here disarmd at this time I thee see
For nere before could I of thee haue sight
But in the field, when thou thine armes didst were,
And valiantly with trenchant blade didst fight,
And therewith put the Grecian Knights in feare.
But truth to say it's much more griefe to mee,
Which am so deadly enemy to thee.
That now of thee I cannot haue my will,
For here of be assur'd if that the peace
Restraind me not, forthwith I would thee Kill,
So much my wrath against thee doth increase,
For th'onely thing which I in heart desire
Is cruell death to thee t'appease mine ire.
For oftentimes when t'was my chance to fight
With thee in field, full sore against my mind
I haue both tri'd and felt thy puissant might,
As by the wounds which I about me find,
Which yet doth ake and are both fresh & greene,
And for iust proofe are extant to be seene,
For with thy sword thou oft hast shead my blood,
And sought to bring my life vnto an end.
And like a Lyon furious, sierce, and wood,
Thou hast not spard my armes to teare and rend,
And cruelly, as I the signes can show,
Most furiously the same didst hac and hew.
Whereby mine armes that forged are of steele,
When thou with puissant force on thē dist smight,
Could neuer yet assure my corps so well,
But that thy trenchāt blade through thē would [...]
Into my flesh, full deepely and profound,
As well appeares by many a mortall wound,
Which in the same are now both long and wide,
And at this time full sorely ake and smart,
And put me to such paine on euery side,
For which as now it seemeth that my heart
Doth rise, swell, beat, and pant when I thee see,
With great despight reuengd on thee to bee.
And is so full repleat with furious rage
And rancor old, with such extreamitie,
That by no meanes it never will asswage,
Till with my hands thy death I giue to thee.
But one thing doth torment me most of all:
Which is when I vnto remembrance call,
And with my selfe in mind expostulate,
How to content thy fierce and bloody will,
With trenchant blade thou diddest separate
Patroclus corps in twaine, and didst him kill,
Whom I did loue with heart and mind intire,
And vnto him so great good will did beare:
That as my selfe, I must the truth confesse,
I loued him, and such affection
Vnto him had, as no tongue can expresse,
And thou thereby didst make division
Twixt him and me, that liu'd and lou'd together
Like brethren twaine, and so had done for euer
While life endur'd, for that betwixt vs twaine
Our faithfull hearts were knit to fast together,
As if they had been linked in a chaine.
No griefe nor no adversity could sever
Our hearts and thoughts, how great soere it was,
Till by his death thou broughtst the same to pas,
And by that meanes our faith full loue didst part.
Whose death so deepe in printed in my thought,
So sore doth griue and vex me at the heart,
That I protest it shall be dearely bought.
And't may be if I reckon not amisse,
Before this present yeare expired is.
For be assurd, that onely for his sake,
When Fortune shall afor'd the time to do't▪
Revenge by cruell death on thee ile take,
And thereof make account and looke well to't:
For if I liue it shall be surely don,
Whē thou shalt haue no means the same to shun▪
For right requires, that sith by death thou wert
The cause and meane▪ to part two louer true,
Death should to thee be rendred for desert,
Which I my selfe will giue thee as thy due.
That all the world through out may thereof know
And heare how that Achilles kild his foe,
To be revenged for Patroclus death.
And though that I doe hate thee for the same,
And will as long as I on earth doe breath,
Thou hast no cause nor reason me to blame:
For well I wot thou hast my death conspird,
And many a day the same in heart desird.
So that to end this strife, I tell thee plaine,
Nought els but cruell death shall v [...]p [...]r bee,
For till thou, I, or both of vs be sla [...],
It shall not cease. The which I hope to see
Ere it be long, for sure it shall be d [...]
By me or thee, the which thou shalt not shun.
When Hector had Achilles speech well hard,
And giuen him leaue to tell so long a [...]ale,
As he that for the same full little card,
With countenance glad, and yet with anger pale▪
He did thereto reply and answer made
Vnto the same, and thus to him he sayd:
Achilles, thou no maruell oughst to haue,
That as thou saist, I doe thy death conspire,
And howrely the same of fortune craue,
As th'onely thing which I in heart desire:
And that to kill thee still I he in wait,
Because to thee I beare so deadly hate.
For if in mind thou didst consider well
The sentence graue, which verity doth proue,
And vnto vs for certaine truth doth tell,
That neither I, nor any man can loue,
Nor any kind of fauor show to one,
That dayly seeketh my confusion.
And me and mine to vanquish and destroy
With deadly hate, and great presumption,
Besieged hath the noble towne of Troy,
To bring vs wholly to destruction:
Not can I any cause nor reason find,
That in my heart I should to him be kind,
Nor loue, nor fauor him in any thing
That seekes my death. For loue doth neuer breed
Of bloody warre and strife, nor yet doth spring
From fowle and deadly hate, but doth proceed
And takes her first and true originall
From faithfulnesse, which is the principall
And onely cause that makes mens hearts t'agree,
And neuer from true faith and loue to start,
But doth them still preserue in vnitie,
Of words, and will, desire, mind, and hart,
And neither life nor death can loue disseuer,
For faithfull loue continueth true for euer.
But hatred and dissention is contrary,
From whence proceeds and followes as we see,
When as mens hearts and minds dissent & varry,
Nought els but rancor, strife, and en [...]itie.
Whe which once bred, makes men proceed so far,
That at the last they fall to mortall warre.
The which all loue cleane vanisheth away.
But nerethelesse I will that thou shalt know,
That whatsoeuer thou to me dost say
In proud and vaunting words, and makest show
As if that thou wouldst doe that vnto mee,
Which while thou liust shal neare be don by thee.
I care not whatsoere thou dost, or sayst,
For without bost hereof I thee assure,
When as thou hast don all that ere thou [...]yst,
If that this warre long twixt vs doth indure▪
I hope if that it be my chance to liue▪
The Grecians so to terrifie and grieue,
That thou and they full▪ well shall find and feele,
How with my trenchant blade when we shall meet,
Ile hac and hew their armors made of steele,
And beat them downe and tread them vnderfeet,
And thine and all their pride so much will daunt,
That if you stay and still these warres doe haunt,
Ile make you all repent your comming here.
For this I know, and well assured am,
That th'onely thing (as plainely doth appeare,)
For which vnto this towne you hither came,
Proceeds of pride and indiscretion,
Els would you not with such presumption,
A thing of such importance take in hand,
As is the siedge of this our towne so great.
Which able is your forces to withstand,
And you and yours from thence by force to beat,
For th'enterprise I tell you true and plaine,
Is ouer hard and heavy to sustaine.
And will because to make you all in fine,
(As hauty and as stout as now you seeme,)
To leaue your pride and lowly to decline,
And stoop vnto the burthen, (which you deeme
To be but very easie, small, and light.)
With your no little shame and great despight.
And this I say Achilles vnto thee,
That whensoeuer thou dost me assayle,
Death shall vnto thy selfe be giuen by mee,
Before that thou against me shalt prevaile
To do the thing wgich thou so easie deem'st,
Though of thy selfe thou nere so much esteem'st
Yet if in thee there be such worthinesse,
And courage stout, that like a valiant Knight,
Thy mind's repleat with so much hardinesse
To moue thee hand to hand with me to fight.
And that this quarrell may betwixt vs twaine,
(By combat brauely fought vpon the plaine)
Be ended, for the which we all contend.
Ile graunt vnto the same withall my hart,
And whatsoeuer fortv ne doth me send,
Ile neuer yeild till death vs two doth part:
So that the Lords on either side will bee
Content, and with good will thereto agree,
That we two shall this combat vndertake
And fight it out betwixt vs two alone,
And thereof for vs all an end to make.
Which shall be done on this condition;
That if thou by thy valor and thy might,
Caust overcome and vanquish me in fight,
I will to thee and them assurance make,
That Priamus my Father shall agree
To all which I for him shall vndertake,
And that assoone as I shall vanquisht bee,
He shall his Crowne and Regall scepter yeild
(Which he so long and many yeares hath held.)
Vnto the Greeks, and him and his submit
In all respects most humbly to their will,
To doe with him and his as they thinke fit.
Which that he may withall his Lords fulfill,
T'avoid each doubt and all ambiguitie,
Both he and they for more securitie,
Shall sweare each one, and all in generall,
To doe as I haue sayd, and there to stand,
And further to confirme the same he shall
Deliuer presently into their hand
Such suerties, as theyle chufe out of the best,
And noblest men in Troy, the which shall rest
And stay among the Greekes while we two fight,
That they may haue no cause at all to doubt
That wee will not performe our words, as right
And reason doth require, if it fall out
That I should be orecome and slaine by thee,
The which I hope thou neare shalt doe to me.
Now then Achilles speake and freely do
(As I haue sayd,) thine honor to increase,
And let vs arme our selues and fall thereto,
That by our meanes this bloody warre may cease,
Which other wise is likely and most sure,
Long twixt the Greeks and Troians to indure.
And thou thereby not onely shalt win fame,
And honor both, but by thy valor great
Throughout the world eternize shalt thy name,
And of the Greeks much thanks and favor get.
Who by thy meanes from hence may scape aliue
And safe and sound in Greece againe arriue.
Which otherwise may to themselues procure
Their deaths by fond and foolish hardinesse,
If they stay heere and that this warre endure,
Whereof there is no other likelinesse.
Be briefe therefore and make no long delay,
But let vs for this Combat point the day,
As I haue sayd, vpon condition
On Grecians side, that if in this same fight
(Which I for all the Troians and the towne
Shall take in hand;) doe vanquish thee by might,
That presently they shall from warre surcease,
And breake vp siedge, and let vs liue in peace,
And into Greece returne againe with speed.
Whereto Achilles burning hot with ire
With haughty, fierce, and furious looke agreed,
As being that which he did most desire.
And vnto Hector sayd, he would that taske
Vpon him take, which he of him did aske:
And gainst the same made no exception.
And for a signe of his desire and hart
T'accomplith it, for confirmation
He threw his Gantlet downe, and for his part
Said, whatsoere vnto him happen might,
He would that Combat for the Grecians fight.
The which when Hector saw, with countenance glad
As euer any valiant Knight could haue,
He s [...]oopt and tooke it vp, and therewith said,
It was the onely thing that he did craue:
And no man can in heart and thought surmise,
How glad he was of that high enterpize.
The newes thereof soone mongst the Greeks was spread,
And to the eares of Agamemnon came,
Who with great troopes of Lords accompanied,
Went to Achilles tent to know the same.
And when they had the matter fully scand,
They would vnto no such condition stand,
But did it with one will and voice deny,
And sayd, they would not hassard their estate,
And welfare of so great a company
Of valiant Knights, to false and wauering Fate.
Nor show themselues to be so fond and vaine,
To stand vnto the combat of those twaine.
And on the Troians side within the towne,
They also sayd, and flatly did deny,
They would not stand to that condition,
To venter all their good and liberty,
Vpon the single valor of a Knight,
Although he were of passing strength & might.
But Priamus himselfe was fully bent,
To stand vnto the combat of those two,
And willingly did yeild and was content
In all respects as Hector sayd, to do.
Nought doubting, but beleeuing certainly▪
That Hector surely should haue victory,
If that he tooke the enterprize iu hand.
But loth to make too much contention,
And strife with those that did against him stand,
He yeilded vnto their opinion.
And was content to let the matter passe,
And gainst his will to leaue it as it was.
And Hector therewith left Achilles tent,
And went to Troy againe. Where for a while
Ile let him rest. For now tis mine intent,
For some respect to change and turne my stile,
To tell you of the sorrow, griefe, and wo,
That Troiclus made to part his Lady fro.
WHy shouldst thou still oh Fortune variable,
(Whē men most trust in thy most flattring (face,)
Become so false, vntrue, and so vnstable,
And make as though thou wouldst them embrace.
When as with fained false dissembling show,
Thou only seekst their vtter ouerthrow?
As well it may by Troiclus be seen,
Whom sodainely with envy thou didst throw
Downe from the mount of ioy that he was in▪
Into the vale of sorrow, griefe, and woe▪
When he did thinke himselfe to be secure,
And of his Loue and Lady deare most sure.
And twixt them mad'st a seperation.
For whom I must a little while complaine,
Because he made such lamentation,
And in his heart endur'd such extreame paine,
Such inward griefe, and such great heauinesse,
That all my wit cannot the same expresse.
For when he knew his Father had decreed,
And for a finall sentence set it downe,
That Cresid [...] should presently with speed,
Vnto the Greeks be sent out of the towne.
Into such mighty griefe and rage he fell,
That no mans tongue can well declare, or tell
The inward paine which in his brest he bare:
For day and night he did such sorrow make,
That like vnto a mad-man he did fare,
And neuer left complaining for her sake.
Desiring rather death with all his hart,
Then that she should away from him depart:
For inwardly an other mind she had,
Which she with faire dissembling face did hide,
And to her true and fathfull louer made,
As though for loue of him she would haue died:
As women can false teares at pleasure borrow,
When in their hearts there is but little sorrow.
And vnto men for truth wil sometimes say
That which they will deny againe as fast,
And serpentlike mongst flowers fresh and gay,
Most commonly their poyson vse to cast.
With sweet and sugred word, when as they mind
Nought but deceit and guile, for tis their kind
And propertie to flatter, faine, and lie,
When in them men doe greatest trust repose,
For all they doe is done in pollicie:
For when you thinke thē friends, they are your foes
And hide their malice with such subtiltie,
That though they seeme with one dissēbling eye
And outward show in piteous wise to weepe,
They can with th'other laugh full couertly,
And in their hearts their double meaning keepe,
Their sorrowes they are outward commonly:
And neuer to their hearts and thoughts draw nere,
And all the partie coulours which they were,
Are mixt with change and great variety,
For therein doth consist their chiefest blis,
The'are sure and fixt in lies and flattery,
And double in their truest promises.
Make show of faith, when least thereof they thinke
Likeliest to loue, when most from it they shrinke,
Most ouerthwart when as they should agree,
And truest seeme, when truth in them is none.
For certaine tis that few of them there be,
That in their hearts contented are with one,
But will in show receiue and entertaine
Two, three, or foure, and in their speeches faine,
Aud make them all with flattering words beleeue
That she doth loue and like them euery one,
And secretly her faith to all will giue.
Yet maketh them to thinke she loues but one,
And that sheele liue with him in weale and woe,
When as in very truth it is not so.
And by that meanes to each of them doth seeme,
As if she lou'd and liked him alone,
And makes him her for his true loue esteeme,
When as in truth perchance she loueth none.
And thus with fained hope she doth thē scoffe,
The tru'st to her is soon'st by her cast off.
He that best serues least favor shall deserue,
And yet she doth them all with fancie feede,
But promise will with none of them obserue,
She'le soon'st deceaue, whē you think sur'st to speed
Let no man trust therefore vnto delay,
But take time and aduantage when he may.
A man may change at pleasure all the yeare,
And yet thereby may get but little gaine.
Great folly tis to buy that thing to deare,
Which man cannot in his bounds retaine;
But flies away when most he doth it want,
And if such ware at any time wax scant,
Men may them out at windoes oft behold,
And find them in a chamber or a hall,
That with most shameles countenance and bold,
Will not refuse vnto a man to call.
And many times abroad in euery street
You may them see, and also with them meet
At Pilgrimages, and oblations,
At daunces, [...]ights, and euery common play,
That vsed are in Citties, and in townes,
Where they resort for pleasure night and day
To see and to be seene of every man,
And by their wiles t'intrap them if they can.
For their's no fraud nor any subtiltie,
Like vnto that of willy women kind,
Nor worse deceit, nor craftier pollicie,
Then in their false dissembling hearts men find.
For he that loueth women stedfastly,
And thinks in them to find fidelity.
Shall see and proue them like vnto the moone,
That ready is to change. For if their loue
Be young, and them displease they will him soone
Out of the dores by head and shoulders shoue,
If he be old, th'yle say age makes him dote,
And let some younger man ride in his bote.
My counsell therefore is vnto them both,
To cast them off in time and let them flie.
This Guido saith, (not I, I tell you troth)
That hath delight to speake vnhappily
Of women, in most part of all his Booke,
As you may see if you therein will looke.
Whereby it seemes that he was not their friend,
And vnto them did beare no little spight,)
Els would he not so much with them contend,
Nor in his Booke such slaunders of them wright:
Which inwardly did make my heart to bleede
For griefe, when I such things therein did read.
Which onely of meere malice favored.
And maile of purpose women to contemne,
Wherein I see he was too much misled,
For generally he doth them all condemne.
And for to show more indiscretion;
Twixt good and bad makes no exception.
He was too blame for one [...]'accuse them all,
For I dare say and swere it by the rood,
And you shall find it to in generall,
That for one bad, there are an hundred good,
And though some doe themselues vnconstant shew
It hurts not them that faithfull are and crew.
And though by some examples he may show,
(As likely tis, for many such there are,)
That▪ some one boue the rest did proue a shrow,
Those that are meeke and gentle need not care.
We must not blame nor tax all women kind,
For some that proue vntrue. For this we find,
That in the towne of Collen once there were
Eleuen thousand Virgins pure and true,
Which did the name of Holy Martyrs beare.
And many other stories tell to you,
That diuers maids did Virgins long remaine,
And to preserue virginitie were slaine.
And some with flowers of true virginitie,
Did liue on earth in honor great, and fame,
That died at last in perfect ehastity,
And sanctified in heauen for the same.
With God remaine in his eternall rest,
And mongst the Saints for euermore are blest.
And though some gainst bad women so much say,
We must not all for some few women blame,
Therefore let no good women be dismaid,
For that of men may well be sayd the same.
Is it a shame to him that liueth true,
Because an other man doth liue vntrue.
And for his theft is hang'd, (as many be.)
No more is it to women vertuous,
If mongst a hundred, one of them we see
That is of liuing bad and vicious.
When for one bad a thousand we may find
That vertuous are. Though Guido faith by kind
And nature they are false, yet men should thinke,
They are not so, and them not too much blame,
But rather at their frailtie seeme to winke,
For though ones bad, they are not all the fame.
Nature in operatiou hath great power,
And who is he that liueth at this hower,
That can by anymeanes his course restraine,
For she will not be shortned of her right,
Nor yet be staied with bridle norwith raine▪
And therefore man withall his power and might
Should giue God thanks for them▪ [...] [...] not blame
Poore women that by nature are the [...]a [...]e.
And though so much my Author gainst them saies,
Where he doth write of Cresida alone,
And for her fault such blame on women laies,
My counsellis to all and euery one,
In reading it on her t'impose the shame,
And task not other women for the same.
Or read it not at all, but rather stay
Till that you come where Diomede had charge
To goe to Troy, to fetch faire Cresida
Whereas my ma [...]ster Chaw [...]r shewes at large,
First how she was to him deliuered,
With Thoas for Anthenor, and was led
By them out of the towne, accompanied
By Troiclus, and many more that road
With him and her, and how King Diomed
Did lead her horse, and her great kindnes shewd,
Till that she came vnto her Fathers sent,
Where she did light, and straight into it went.
And then declares how she therein did stay,
What speches she to him and others vsed,
While she with them sat talking all that day,
And how that soone her selfe she did abuse.
For G [...]ldo saith, that day before t▪was night,
She cleane forlooke her deare & louing knight.
And gaue her heart and loue to Diomede,
To shew what trust there is in women kind▪
For she of her new loue no sooner sped,
But Troiclus was cleane out of her mind.
As if she had him never knowne nor seene.
Wherein I cannot gesse what she did meane,
Vnlesse it were because she did delight
In novelty, as women doe by kind
And nature, which vnstable is and light,
As by experience commonly we find.
But now no more of loue I will declare,
But turne my stile againe vnto the warre.

CHAP. V.

¶ Of the E [...]ailes fought betweene the Greeks and the Troians, after the truce of three moneths was expi­red. The description of the Pallace of Ilion in Troy, of a great p [...]st [...]ce that happened in the Grecians hoast: Whereby they were constrained to seeke for a truce, which they obtained of the Troians for 30. daies.

THe three moneths truce aforesaid being don:
The next ensuing day when Titan had
His Indian course from West to East out run,
And after he great sport and cheare had made
In sweet and faire Auroraes company,
And rose from her and would no longer lie,
But with his Radiant beames that shone most clear
(When as the [...]arke did sing with great delight.)
Did on the walles and towne of Troy appeare:
Hector the strong and most victorious Knight,
His battailes in good order did ordaine,
And ready was to goe into the plaine,
To fight against the Grecian enemy:
The first whereof himselfe well armed led;
And with him had to beare him company,
Full fifteene thousand Knights well furnished.
Next vnto him braue Troielus did goe,
With iust ten thousand Knights in warlike shoe.
And after him the Percian archers went,
That had his brother Paris for their guide▪
Each with his Bow in hand all ready bent,
And shea [...]es of peircing arrowes by his side:
In number full thre thousand archers braue.
The leading of the fourth ward Hector gaue▪
Vnto his brother Deiphobus, that had
Three thousand men well arm'd in corslets cleare,
And of the rest Aeneas leader made,
And as the story [...]aith, as then there were
An hundred thousand valiant Knights & stout,
By Hector to the field that day sent out.
And as I find by Dares Frigius,
And Guido too, against them forth were led
Seven thousand Grecian Knights by M [...],
And iust as many more by D [...]ed.
And next to them A [...]billes with his [...]and
Of Myrmidons, in order plast did stand.
Then Zantipus a King of great renowne,
Conductor of three thousand Knights was [...]d [...]
And last of all into the field came downe,
The Generall of the hoast, that with him had
So huge a band of Grecian Knights, that all
The plaine with them was fild▪ & straight d [...] [...]
And set vpon the Troian Knights so fast,
That many men at that encounter died,
And furiously vnto the ground were cast,
And as by chance King Phillis Hector spied,
That cruelly the Greeks beat downe and chast,
He spurd his horse and ran at him in hast,
And with his launce vpon him fiercely set.
Which when as Hector saw, he coucht his speare,
And him with so great sorce and fury met,
That he did him out of his sadle beare:
And gaue him such a deepe and cruell wound,
That he therewith fell dead vpon the ground▪
Whose death when as the Grecians did espie,
With griefe for him they waxed pale and wan;
And many to revenge it, valiantly,
On Hector set, and first vpon him ran
King Zantipus, who with most great disdaine,
And griefe to see King Phillis there lie slaine,
His launce vpon him brake, which to requite
Hector at him most furiously did flie,
And with his speare so fiercely did him smite,
That with the blow he did most cruelly
Giue him a wound so deepe into the side,
That he therewith fell off his horse and died.
For whom the Greeks complain'd and grieued sor [...]
And hated Hector for his cruelty,
And each to other promised and swore,
With Troian blood his death reuendg'd should [...]e:
And at that time did them so sore pursue,
That many of them in little space they slew,
And mongst the rest Achilles cruelly,
Lichaon and Euforbius both did slay,
(Two Knights that came out of their Countrey,
Which distant was from Troy a mighty way,
To ayd and help their friend King Priamus▪)
And while the Greekes set on the Troians thus▪
Hector by chance was wounded in the face,
Wherewith the blood out of his Bever ran,
Whome when the Troyans saw in such a case,
They were so much abasht, that they began▪
To flie, & in great hast to leaue the plaine,
And in the chase great store of them were slaine,
Before that they could get out of the prea [...]e.
The Grecians them so ho [...]e followed,
And to pursue and kill them did not cease
In furious wise▪ as they before them fled,
And chased them almost vnto the towne:
Till Hector that most worthy Champion,
Perceiuing them to flie so fast away,
Vnto them went t'encourage them againe,
And made them turne & spight their hearts to stay,
And valiantlie to fight, and to maintaine
The battaile gainst the Grecian enemies.
For when as he by chance cast vp his eies
Vnto the wals of Troy, and did behold
Queene Hecuba, and Policene, that stood
Thereon to see the fight his heart waxt cold,
As being moou'd with fierce and furious mood,
For verie shame to see the Troyans flie,
And made them turne with great dexteritie,
And staid their [...]light, & with them backe did ride
Vnto the plaine, and in his way he met
A Grecian King cald Merion, neere allide
T'Achilles, and on him most fiercelieset:
And with his sword gaue him so great a blow,
That therewithall his body claue in two.
Whome when Achilles found in that sort dead,
Much grieu'd to see't, but't could him noght availe,
He tooke a speare and Hector followed,
With full intent t'revenge him without faile:
And to that end ran at him valiantly,
And on the shield smote him most cruelly.
But could not once remooue him with the stroake,
Nor make him in his sadle rise▪ nor bow,
For he sat sure and steadfast as an Oake.
But mooued sore when as he fel [...] the blow,
With sword in hand he did Achilles smite,
So great a stroke with all his force and might,
That with the same he did his helmet breake,
And tare his Bever off, and made him reele,
And on his horse to bend, and then did speake,
And said to him, Achilles now I feele,
And well perceiue the envie that to mee
Thou bearst in heart, but I do counsell thee,
That thou vnto thy selfe dost not procure
Thy death, for if (as I desire) I may
Meet with thee [...]n the field, I thee a [...]sure▪
No ransome, aid, nor succor shall [...]e stay,
With this my sword to take revenge on th [...]
For with thy life thou shalt not scape from [...].
Be well advis'd therefore I tell thee plaine,
For by my hand thou shalt most surely die,
For I intend to pay thee for thy paine.
Whereto Achilles [...]hinking to replie,
As he began to answere him againe,
Prince Troy [...] step [...] in betweene them [...]ne,
And parted them, and with the company
Of worthy knights, which he as then did guide,
Behau'd himselfe so braue and valiantly,
That where he fought▪ the Greeks on everieside
Were beaten downe and kild, for that same day,
He did six hundred knights most fiercely slay.
And made the Greeks for feare the end of [...]
Vnto their tents, till Menelaus came in,
With seven thousand Greeks in company,
T'assaile the Troyans fiercely did begin▪
And made the Greeks march forward once againe,
And to reco [...]er ground vpon the plaine.
But as he busied was to set vpon
The Troyan knights, [...] bea [...] them downe by [...],
He was encountred by King Ode [...],
Who valiantly did cast him off [...] [...],
And wounded him so deepelie in the face,
That he had thought t'haue died in that place.
And had been prisoner tane and led away,
(By aid and helpe of Troy [...]lus) to the towne,
But that in his extreamitie and need,
So many thousand Grecian knights came dow [...]
To aid and rescue him: that Ode [...]
Was forst to let King Menelaus alone.
And at that time as it by chance fell out,
King Diomede with Troyelus did [...],
And [...]re that he could turne himselfe about,
With speare in hand so fiercely on him set▪
That Troyelus by maine and mighty force
At vnawares, he cast downe from his horse,
And gaue it to his Squire for to beare
To Cresida, and praid her for his sake,
That Present to accept (though small it were)
And with good will, and in good part y [...]o take
That simple gift from her most louing knight▪
That valiantly had woone it in the [...],
And taken it from him, whome sometimes [...]he
Had loued well▪ and like't, and in her heart
Esteemd and [...] only knight to be.
The Squire as he had, did straight depart,
[...] when he came therewith to Cresids tent,
He did [...] in his Maisters name present.
And as he had in charge, in humble rise
Deliuered [...] to [...], and earnestly
Besought her that [...]he would it not despise,
But take it in good part, and c [...]eously
Vouchsafeto thinke on Diomede her knight▪
That in her [...]d his sole and whole delight.
Whereto with countnance glad & ioyfull cheare,
She answere made, and bad [...]im go with speed
Vnto his Lord, and say [...]o him from her,
That for his part to feare he should not need,
That she would proue vncurteous or vnkind
To him, in whom [...]he did such kindnes find.
And would no [...] his good will and loue reiect,
That vnto her [...] [...]ranger in that place,
So much himselfe did humble and subiect,
As to desire [...]e [...] [...] o [...] ▪ loue, and grace,
That never had [...] him [...] so well,
And therefore had him to his maister tell,
That while she liu'd it was her sol [...] intent,
His loue to her [...]in her he [...]t to set.
The Squire with this answere gladly went
Vnto his Lord [...]d when with h [...] he met,
Vnto him told▪ what she to him had said▪
For which he was so well at heart appaid,
That from thenceforth he did esteeme it nought,
What gri [...] so e [...] after to him fell.
Meane time the Troyans then so brauely fought,
And [...]gainst the Gr [...]ks behau'd themselues so well,
That they of force constrained w [...]re to fly
Vnto their tents, and there so cruelly
Were slaine and [...]n down [...], that certainly
They had been [...] & cleane driuen out the field
At that same time, and spoyled vtterly.
If [...] when he them beh [...]ld,
Had not come downe with many a gallant man,
At which time such a furious fight began,
That many men were beaten downe and feld,
But specially vpon the Troyans side,
For then the Greeks them [...]oo' [...] so hardly held,
That they could not their fury great abide:
And by that me [...] the Grecia [...] ground thē wonne,
And Troyans to recoyle as fast begunne,
And lost▪ their ground [...] [...]hat [...],
(W [...]o with a troope of gallant knights & strong,
The Greeks on th'other [...] was)
In furious [...]se did [...] into the [...]ng,
And such a slaugh [...] of the Greeks the [...] ma [...],
That in short time [...] them compelled had
To make retract, and way to flie at last▪
Downe towards thes [...] [...] vnto the strond, where [...]e
Along the way did [...] them downe so fast,
And put them to so great extreamity:
That they were in no l [...]tle feare and dread▪
Vntill such time as fierce King Diomede
Beheld and saw how that Pollidam [...]s,
So cruelly the Grecians did pursue,
That if the fight continued as it was,
He doubted some great danger would ensue
Vnto the Greeks, a speare in hand did take,
And spurd his horse, and after him did make.
And he likewise to shew himselfe a knight
Of valor great, his speare set in his rest,
And valiantly with all his force and might,
Smote Diomede therewith into the brest,
Cleane through his armes a deepe & deadly wound,
Wherwith he fell down headlong on the ground.
Which having done despight of all the force,
That then the Grecians vs'd t'ayd Diomede,
He brauely tooke and seaz'd vpon his horse,
And by the bridle in his hand it l [...]d,
And gaue it vnto Troyelus that stood
On foot, as then all bath'd in Grecians blood.
(Whereas he fought with them so valiantly,
That they could not his mighty blowes sustaine,
For with his trenchant blade most cruelly,
He kild and beat them downe vpon the plaine)
Who did his foot straight in the stirrop set,
And with a trice vpon his backe did get▪
And then againe himselfe he did advance,
And furiously vpon the Grecians [...]et,
Till at the last with swords in hand by chance,
He and Achilles both together met,
And each the other valiantly assaild,
But Troyelus against him so prevaild,
That he did wound Achilles, and by force,
(Despight of his great valor and his might)
Most puissantly did smight him off his horse.
But nere the lesse Achilles like a knight,
That nothing feard, rose vp vpon his feet,
And vs'd all meanes he could his horse to get.
But ere that he could do't, a new supply
Of Troyan Knights enclos'd him round about,
And on him set with such dexterity,
That he by no meanes from them could get out:
And Hector at that time in furious rage,
His choller on Achilles to asswage,
A thousand Grecian knights did fiercelie [...]ay,
And many more by his victorious hand,
Were beaten downe that then stood in his way,
And him (to aid Achilles) did withstand:
Who at that time in extreame danger stood,
And could not scape by any likelihood,
But either had been taken, or else slaine.
For Hector on him set so furiously,
That he had not beene able to sustaine
The fight gainst him, and those that busilie
Vpon him set; till that King Thelamon
Much grieu'd thereat, when as he heard theron,
With many thousand Grecians thither road,
(And in despight of all the Troyans force,
Who notwithstanding brauely him withstood)
Did rescue him, and holpe him to his horse,
But not without the losse of many a knight.
But for because as then it drew to night,
They left the battaile for that time, and went
Out of the field, the Troyans to the towne:
The Grecians everie one vnto his tent,
And for that night to rest themselues lay downe.
And after that as Dares Frigius saies,
Continually for space of thirtie daies,
They neuer ceased valiantly to fight,
And furiouslie each other to destroy
On either side, but yet for all their might,
The Grecians lost much more then they of Troy.
And Priam lost in those most furious fights,
Six Bastard sons all braue and valiant knights.
For whome he made much dole and heauinesse,
And neuer ceast to weepe and to complaine,
And in that time (as Guido doth expresse)
Hector a wound got in his face againe:
And in that sort each t'other did procure,
Great losse, while all those battailes did endure.
Till Priamus vnto the Greeks sent downe
For truce for six months space, if that they would
Grant therevnto, which King Agamemnon
With all his Lords contented was to hold:
And so it was confirm'd on either side,
For so long time betwixt them to abide.
And while it held, the worthy Champion
Hector, the chiefe defence of Troy, did lie
To heale and cure his wo [...]nds in Ilion,
King Priams Princelie house. Whereof if I
Should take on me (as Dares sets it downe)
To make to you a full description▪
I feare I shall want learning to expresse,
And shew the same to you, for tis too much
For my bare wit, to doo't I must confesse.
For truth it is, there nere was any such,
In all the world before that ere was seene
For riches, nor the like nere since hath beene.
For (as he saith) t'was made for great delight,
And stood vpō twelue mightie stones foure square,
The which were all of Alablaster white.
The true and right proportion that it bare,
Was twenty paces in the latitude,
And iust as many in the longitude.
The pauement vnder foot was Christ all cleare.
And all the walls compos'd and made of stones,
The which most costly, rich, and sumptuous were:
As Rubies, Saphires, Aga [...]s, Diamones,
Topas, Emrands, Turques, Crosolites,
Purfier, Iasper, Iet, and Margarites:
And many other kinds the which are found,
And with great labour sought and digged out,
Within the rich and fertile Indian ground,
And all the Countries of the world about.
The which did glister, shine, and show as bright,
Within that faire & sumptuous house by night,
As when the Sun by day therein did shine.
And round about the hall most curiously
Huge pillars therein stood, exceeding fine
And brauely made of pure white Ivorie,
Which on the tops of each of them did hold,
Most great and massie Images of gold,
Inchast with Pearls & precious stones most bright.
So that the stately workemanship and fashion,
Of that most sumptuous Pallace to the sight,
Was likelier by estimation,
To be compos'd by incantation,
Then wrought and made by mans invention.
And rather seem'd a thing celestiall,
And framed by the heauenly Deity,
Then any house of Prince terrestriall.
But for because I never did it see,
I will conclude and briefly to you tell,
Th [...] i [...] all other buildings did excell▪
And turnd againe vnto King Priamus,
Who while the truce aforesaid did endure,
Most earnest was by workemen curious,
To make most costly tombes for Sepulture
Of his six Bastard sons aforesaid dead,
That in the warre their liues had finished.
And all this while King Diomede lay sicke,
And inwardly did feele great woe and smart
By Cupids shaft, that cruelly did pricke
And sting him through the brest into the heart,
For loue of his faire Lady Cresida.
For whom he neuer ceast both night & day,
To fret & grieue, & with deepe sighs complaine,
And for that cause most wilfullie begun
To leaue all food, and foolishlie abstaine
From earthly ioy, and lookt so pale and wan,
That he did seeme to be a man forlorne,
And one that all terrestriall blisse did scorne.
And ever vnto her did still complaine,
And prayed her of loue and charitie,
To shew some grace to ease him of his paine,
And nor to put him to extreamitie:
Which surely was for her sweet sake to die,
If vnto him her loue she would denie.
But cunningly she held him at a bay,
And for to haue and keepe him in good hope,
She still did vse to feed him with delay,
Yet would not seeme to giue him too much scope:
But as it were twixt hope and deepe despaire,
Shewd vnto him a countnance glad and faire,
To ease him partlie of his heauinesse,
And then with some new tricke as in disdaine,
Would put him to some other new distresse,
And rather more then lesse encrease his paine:
As wylie women well can play such parts,
With men that pierced are with Cupids darts,
And make them oftentimes to giue assaies,
Yet wau'ringly to stand twixt hope and dread,
By putting them to Non-plus by delaies,
As Cresida dealt with King Diomede,
Of purpose for to set him more on fire,
For naturally all women doe desie,
When they haue made men after them to dance,
Twixt hope and dread both linked in a chaine,
Vnequally to hang them in ballance,
Of most vncertaine end of either twaine:
To make them long and many yeares to serue,
Nought caring whether they doliue, or starue.
Loe here what by too fervent loue is got,
For she to keepe him still in seruitude,
Held him at such a bay, that he could not
Perceaue what she did meane, but to conclude
Left him in doubt; wherein ile let him lie,
And vnto you will further certifie,
How well themselues the Troyans did defend
Against the Greeks their enemies in field,
When as the six months truce were at an end,
Who after that, twelue daies together held
Continuall fight and never would refraine,
Wherin great store of valiāt knights were slaine
On either side, all in their owne defence,
Which in the field long did vnburied lie,
Whereof ensu'd so great a pestilence
Among the Greekes, by much extreamitie
Of heat, and by contagiousnes of aire,
That they therewith did fall in great despaire.
For day by day so many of them dyed,
That in short space their number did decrease
Most mightily, the which when they espyed,
And saw the plague still more & more encreast,
Their Generall a messenger sent downe,
With all their whole consents vnto the towne.
To craue a truce if Priam would consent
And yeeld thereto, for thirtie dayes t'endure.
Which when the Troyans heard, they were content,
And willingly the same did them assure:
In hope the plague whereof they dyed so fast,
Would be a meanes to kill them all at last.

CHAP. VI.

¶ How Andromecha in a dreame was fore [...]ar [...]ed of her Husband Hectors death, if he the next day fol­lowing entred into the field; and how he refusing her counsell, was the next day slaine in the battaile by A­chilles.

WHen as the plague among the Greeks did cease,
And time of truce likewise was at an end,
The Grecians that in courage did encrease,
Determined and fully did intend,
T'assaile and set vpon the Troyan foes
Betimes next day, assoone as Phoebus rose.
But as the storie saith, the night before,
Andromecha Prince Hectors louing wife,
▪That vnto him two Princelie children bore,
(Whome he did loue as dearely as his life)
The eldest cald Laomedon, the other
Astionax, much lesser then the other.
For he as then was small and very yong,
And onely with his mothers pap was fed,
And neither had the vse of foot nor tong)
As she lay fast a sleepe within her bed,
Was troubled with a sodaine vision,
Or as men say a revolution
By dreame (as hapned to King Scipio)
Whether it were by divine Oracle,
Or that the Gods did then vnto her shoe,
And giue her warning as a miracle)
Wherein she thought that one to her did say,
That if that Hector issued forth next day
Out of the towne his Grecian foes t'assaile,
That he should not escape, but certainlie,
Fell fate would then so much gainst him preuaile,
That she would him in trap, and finally
Fierce Atropos that foule and divellish fend,
The thrid of her deare husbands life would end.
Thereby to shew her cruell force and might:
If he that day into the field did goe.
Wherewith she fell into so great a fright,
And thought that she did feele such extreme woe:
That waking of a sodaine vp she start,
And for her dreame was grieued at the heart.
And lay and sighted sore, and could not sleepe,
By reason of the extreame griefe and sorrow
She had conceau'd, and pittiously did weepe,
But specially the next ensuing morrow,
When she beheld the worthy famous knight,
Hector put on his compleat armour bright,
And ready was to go out of the towne.
To whome with flouds of teares within her eies,
She ran in hast and on her knees fell downe,
And vnto him declar'd with woefull cries,
The fearefull dreame she had the night before,
But he esteem'd it not, but was therefore
Offended, and with indignation
Affirm'd, and said that folly great it were
For men that are of good discretion,
Such peeuish, fond, and idle dreames to feare,
Or trust vnto so foolish fantasies
Of visions, that most commonly are lies,
And full of iests and false elusions,
Whereof the end is onely to delude
Such as do trust to their conclusions,
Although the common people grosse and rude,
Are mooued with most fond affection,
To iudge by them in their opinion
What may ensue, and what they signifie,
Which many times falls out as they suppose,
But oftner times do hap cleane co [...]arie.
Whereat with wringing hands straight vp she [...]se▪
But downe againe she fell, and there did lie
A while as in a trance, and then did crie,
And said alas, my loue and Lord most deare,
Why will you not belieue nor thinke vpon
Your louing wife, but her refuse to heare,
That with good will and true affection,
Desires and wisheth you all good she can▪
And vp she rose like one that's mad and ran
To Priamus and Hecuba that sat▪
Together at that time, and downe she fell
Vpon her knees, but long it was ere that
For sobs and sigthes she could vnto them▪ tell
Her woefull case, till at the last she tooke
Some courage, and with sad and heavie looke,
Vnto them shewd the fearefull dream she had
The night before▪ when as she wa [...] [...]
And to them there a full discourse then made
Thereof in euery point, with sighs most deepe:
Affirming that for certaine't would fall aur▪
So as she said if Hector did goe out
That day into the field, sor't was ordaind
By fortunes false and mischieuous decree.
And therewith in most pittious wise complaind;
And weeping prayd King Priam on her knee,
Of her and hers to haue compassion▪
And with all speed to giue direction,
That Hector her deare Lord might not go out
That day into the field, and therewithall
With weeping teares she turn'd her selfe about,
And in a deadly sound began to fall:
And with exceeding pale and woefull cheare,
Cry'd out & said, helpe, help, sweet mother dere.
And of your great benignity and grace,
Find meanes that my Lord Hector may not go,
This day into the field to fight, no [...] passe
Out of the gates, and to perswade him so:
That he this day vse neither speare nor shield,
But vnto your desire get him to yeeld.
Whereto they both did willingly agree,
And readilie did grant to her request,
And to that end with speed went downe to see,
When all the battailes readie were, and prest
To issue forth, where Troyelus first of all
Appointed was vpon the Greeks to fall.
And next to him his brother Paris went.
And after him Aeneas forth did passe.
And then in order brauelie plast were sent
King Sarpedon, and braue Pollidamas.
King Erio [...], and King Epistr [...]phus.
And after them a King cald Forcius.
All richly arm'd in harnesse bright and cleare.
And last of all went out King Philomene,
With all the Kings & Lords that then were there,
To aid King Priamus. Who hauing seene
Them all before him passe out of the towne,
Himselfe in person with them did go downe
A little way, and them in order plast.
Which having done he bad them forward goe,
And willed them couragiously to hast
And set vpon the Greeks, and there to shoe
Their valors great gainst them with all their might,
That ready were, and prest with them to fight.
And proudly stood all armed in the plaine,
With ensignes spred in braue and warlike shoe;
But Priamus with speed went backe againe,
And vnto Hector purposely did goe,
To will him not to [...]ue forth that day
Into the field, but in the towne to stay.
For which he was sore grieued in his mind,
And when he saw the battailes all go forth
Into the field, and he was staid behind,
He did begin to be exceeding wroth,
And laid the fault thereof vpon his wife,
That seemd to be so tender of his life,
Imposing vpon her th'occasion,
That he vnto his great disgrace and shame,
Constrained was to stay within the towne.
But that it might not derogate his fame,
Nor giue men cause by false report to say,
That he for feare did stay within that day;
He did protest, and with an oath it bound,
That happen life or death he would go out
Into the field, and therein would be found,
Yea though he were assured without doubt,
That he should die a thousand deaths and more,
So stout a heart within his brest he bore.
And for that cause he made no more delay,
But arm'd himselfe againe with full intent,
Against his fathers will, that bad him stay,
To go into the field; and forward went.
For feare whereof his wife did cry & shout,
And with her child in both her armes ran out.
And did to him most pittiously complaine,
Beseeching him her sorrow to behold,
And of his Princely loue to ease her paine
By granting her request, and that he would
Not onely pittie her, but haue a care
Of his yong Son which in her armes she bare.
Who all the while would not from crying keepe
By any meanes, what so euer that she made:
When as he saw his wofull mother weepe,
And kneeling on her knees vnto him said,
Alas my Lord haue pittie now on me,
And on this tender babe whome here you see
So wofully before you weepe and crie,
And be not so hard hearted and vnkind,
T'abandon vs, and suffer vs to die.
Let Troy some mercy at thy hand now find,
(Mine owne deare Lord) least it and we each one,
Be put to cruell death when thou art gone,
For want of aid. Thus did Andromecha
Her Husband Hector mournfully desire
To stay at home. The like Queene Hecuba
His mother also of him did require,
Together with his Sisters Cassandra,
And Policene, with faire Queene Helena.
Who all at once downe at his feet did fall,
And pittiously their haire did rent and teare,
And lowdly cri'd, and dolefully did call
On him, that he would for that day forbeare
To go into the field, and of the towne,
With them and her to haue compassion,
And to behold their sad and pittious mone,
For that he was the bulwarke and the wall,
And chiefe defender of the towne alone,
And th'only true supporter of them all:
In whome their onely safety and good,
With all their weale especially then stood.
But all this could not moue his heart to stay,
Nor grant to their request, yet still they kneel'd,
And him with many brinish teares did pray,
Vnto their cries and woefull sute to yeeld,
And that they might some sparks of grace thē feele
To come out of his heart as hard as steele,
By pittying them and on their woe to rew,
Which likely was to their destruction
And overthrow, still dailie to renew:
For that of their most famous Troyan towne,
His death would be the ruine and decay.
Yet all this could by no meanes make him stay,
But forth he would with heart couragious,
Which was inflam'd with extreame wrath & rage,
And like a Lyon fierce and furious,
Would by no meanes his crueltie asswage:
For neither crie nor lamentation,
Could him withdraw from his opinion.
For casting everie danger cleane aside,
And all perswasions what so ere were made,
He spurd his horse, and forward gan to ride,
Wherewith his wife such extreame dolor had
Within her heart, that with face pale and wan,
In furious wise vnto the King she ran
So sore amaz'd, and in such wofull case,
That she could hardly tell where she did go,
And with salt teares be-dewing all her face,
So strangely lookt that no man could her know:
And in that sort with great perplexitie,
She fell before King Priam on her knee,
And vnto him her wofull case did shoe.
Desiring him to put his helping hand,
To stay her husband Hector that would goe
Out of the towne, whom no man could withstand,
Vnlesse't were he; who presentlie did bid
One bring his horse, and forth in hast he rid,
And pittying her estate, did for her sake,
Set spurs vnto his horse with so great hast,
That he did Hector speedilie oretake,
Before that he out of the gate was past:
And straight laid hold vpon his horses reine,
And made him gainst his will turne back again.
(Wherein he would his father not gaine say,
Although he was full loath the same to doe)
And by that meanes intreated was to stay,
And partly was by force constraind thereto:
And so he did downe from his horse alight,
With heart so full of ranckor and despight,
Melancholie and hot and burning ire,
That his couragious heart did boile in blood,
And with disdaine was set on such a fire,
That like a Tygar fierce, or Lyon wood
And furious, depriued of his pray,
He did behaue himselfe all that same day.
Or like a Bore that as he goes doth whet
And grind his tuskes, still walking vp and downe,
While that the Greekes & they of Troy did meet,
Where at the first yong Troyel [...] fore the towne,
In furious wise vpon his gallant steed,
By chance did meet with fierce King Diomede.
And both of them so furiously assaild,
And set vpon each other with such might,
That neither armes nor weapons had preuaild,
But one or both of them in that hard fight
Had died, if that King Menelaus had not beene,
That sodenly came riding them betweene,
And made them part, and after valiantly
Did spurre his horse, and ran at Mereon
The Phrigian King, and him most cruellie
With sword in hand assaild and set vpon:
And at him stroke a blow with so great force,
That with the same he feld him off his horse.
And at that time he surely had bin tane,
Or lost his life, the Greeks so mightily
Assaild and set on him, and on the plaine
Enclos'd him round about, and furiously
Pluckt off his helme, and band vpon him laid,
And had him led away. If to his aid
Pollidamas had not come sodenly,
With many valiant knights with him, and when
He saw King Mereon in extreamitie,
And mongst a troope of Grecians prisoner, then
In furious wise he did vpon them set,
And him out of their hands by force did get.
But ere he could relieue him cleane from thence,
On either side there was such mortall strife,
For that the Greeks gainst him made great defence,
That many a valiant knight then lost his life:
For rather then he should from them be tane,
They swore & vowd that he shold first be slaine.
And by that meanes he was in danger great.
But sodainly to free him from the same,
Yong Troyelus vpon the Grecians set:
And at the first as he amongst them [...]a [...]e,
He did behaue himselfe gainst them so well,
And in such furious wise vpon them [...]ell,
That in despight of them and all their traine,
Most valiantly he holpe king Mereon,
And him restor'd to libertie againe.
And then into the field came Thelamon,
That of three thousand knights the leader was,
And sodenlie vnhorst Pollidamas.
And him in midst of all his knights cast downe
Vnto the ground. But worthy Troyelus
T'encrease his hautie fame and great renowne,
Despight of them with courage furious,
Holpe him perforce vnto his horse againe,
But at that time the Troyans were so slaine,
And beaten downe by Greeks on euery side,
(For fierce Achilles then so cruelly
Pursued them) that they could not abide
Before his face, but of necessitie
Constrained were perforce to flie away,
And by no meanes within the field would stay.
But fiercelie chast by him vnto the towne,
Close by the walls did loose great store of men.
Which when the valiant Knight Margariton,
One of King Priams bastard Childeren
Perceau'd and saw, such hauocke of them made,
Such griefe and sorrow in his heart he had,
And was so moou'd thereat with great disdaine,
To see them flie and chast so furiously,
And fore the walls so many of them slaine,
He purposed with heart couragiously,
T'revenge them on Achilles if he might:
And therefore like a strong and valiant knight,
He spurd his horse & through the prease he brake,
And in the midst of all the Myrmidons,
Enforst himselfe to kill, or else to take
Achilles, and to that end on him runs,
And him with fierce and furious mood assaild,
But notwithstanding all his might, he faild
Of that which he intended to haue done.
(For as fell fortune did for him ordaine,
Which by no meanes he could at that time shone)
He was himselfe by fierce Achilles slaine:
Wherewith the Troyans presently did flie,
Vnto the towne with fearefull noise and crie,
To see the valiant Knight Margariton,
Dead on the ground so pittiously to lie,
And also for because King Thelamon,
Pursued them with so great cruelty,
And with his sword so fiercely shed their blood,
Though Paris him couragiously withstood,
With all his valiant bastard Brethren,
But nere the lesse the Troyans more and more
Fled backe, and with the losse of many men,
Constrained were to giue the field cleane ore:
And entring into Troye with mighty feare,
Margaritons dead corps with them did beare.
And after them shut fast the gates with speed,
Whose body when as Hector did behold,
His heart within his brest for griefe did bleed,
And for that cause he swore and vowd he would,
(Without abode or any more delay)
Revenge his death vpon the Greeks that day.
And presently his compleat armes put on,
And mounting on his horse with speed did goe
Out of the towne, before that any one
Of those that would haue staid him did it know:
And like a Lyon in his cruelty
Assaild the Grecians host so furiously,
That like to swarmes of Bees, they ran away
Before his sword, and thought it best to get
Out of his sight, and he that time did slay
Two worthy Dukes that then vpon him set,
Whereof the one was cald Euripalus,
The other had to name Halcidius.
And by that meanes the Troyans hauing woone
Their ground againe, they did the Grecians slay
So furiously, that they in hast begun
To leaue the field, and giue the Troyans way:
Yet though they were pursu'd so, then it was
Their chance by force to take Pollidamas,
A Troyan knight, but Hector spurd his horse,
And road into the thickest of the presse,
And tooke him from them all againe by force,
And after put the Greeks to such distresse,
That through his valor great where s'ere he rood,
He bath'd his trenchant blade within their blood.
And was so cruell and so mercilesse,
That none escapt his hands that with him met,
And then a Grecian cald Leothides,
Presumptuously would needs vpon him set,
While he was in his greatest rage and ire:
But Hector, who as then had great desire
To make the Grecians feele his cruelty,
Slew him forthwith, and on the ground him cast.
The which when as Achilles did espie,
And saw how he the Grecians slew so fast,
And hackt and hew'd them down, & spared none,
He did conceiue in his opinion,
That while that Hector liu'd it was most sure,
The Greeks should nere orecome their enemies,
Nor long gainst them in battaile could endure.
And for that cause did studie and deuise,
Which way to find the meanes by force or slight,
To rid him of his life, if that he might.
And with him also did therein consent
Pollicenes an Indian Duke, that had
His loue vnto Achilles sister bent,
And she of him her onelie choice had made:
Who, that he might more in her favor stand,
Presum'd to take that enterprise in hand.
And him began t'assaile with courage bold,
But he was slaine by Hector presently.
The which when as Achilles did behold,
And saw him there dead on the ground to lie,
His heart with so great furie was possest,
That presently he set his speare in rest,
And ran therewith at Hector furiouslie,
But Hector with a dart most sharpely ground,
Which he with mightie force at him let flie,
Stroke him clean throgh the thigh a mighty woūd:
Which grieu'd him so that he could not abide
Within the field, but was constraind to ride,
With all the speed he could vnto his tent,
And there bound vp his wound, and presently
Did mount vpon his horse againe, and went
Into the field, in feare least he should die
Of that same wound so dangerous and sore,
And not to take revenge on him before.
For he desir'd no better remedie,
To case him of the griefe he did sustaine,
Then for to haue the meanes and libertie,
That Hector by his hands might first be slaine:
For of his death he did small reckning make,
So he might like revenge on Hector take.
And so he made a full conclusion,
Death for death to giue him if he might,
And with that stedfast resolution,
And heart repleat with choller and despight,
He road in mighty rage to find him out:
While Hector rang'd the field and plaine about.
And like a Lyon fierce and Tygar fell,
The Grecians slew and beat from place to place,
And by his valor great which did excell,
With sword in hand did them so hotly chase,
That as the sheepe before the Wolfe do flie,
They ran assoone as they did him espie,
For none so hardy was on him to set.
And while that he such hauocke of them made,
Amongst the Greeks a Grecian King he met,
That on his backe a goodly armor had,
Ingrau'd and set with many a precious stone,
And Pearles fine that bright & clearely shone.
For on the circle of his helme throughout,
And all the borders of his Crest were set,
In every place (on Velvet edg'd about)
Most rich and precious stones of value great:
Whose Armor when as Hector did behold,
To be so rich of precious stones and gold,
Assoone as he vnto the king drew neare,
He ran at him, and with exceeding force
Cleane through the heart did pierce him with his speare,
Wherewith [...]e died, and fell off from his horse,
And Hector then did presently alight,
And being of exceending strength & might,
Tooke vp the body armed as it was,
Before him on his sadle-bow, and ride
Therewith out of the battaile, that when as
He had it got out of the way aside,
He might of his rich armor make a pray,
And spight of all the Grecians beare't away,
Being glad that he had gotten such a prise.
But out alas, that ere he should it see,
Or set his mind so much on a varice,
The heat whereof cannot extinguisht bee
Out of mans heart, if once therein it get:
For tis the cause that maketh man to set
His mind on nothing else but greedinesse,
Which cleane disgraceth true Nobility,
And doth extinguish all the worthinesse
Of Conquerors, and such as by degree
Of honor seeke to climbe to loftie fame,
And oftentimes cleane blemisheth the same.
A covetous desire of getting wealth,
Belongeth not vnto Nobilitie,
Nor riches gotten so by spoyle or stealth,
Pertaineth not to worthy Chivalrie:
For avarice and Knighthood disagree,
And cannot well together lincked bee.
For certaine tis, that greedinesse of gaine
Hath often beene the onely overthrow
Of many famous men that haue beene slaine,
As Guido in this Historie doth show
By worthy Hectors fall, who coveting
To haue the sumptuous armor of that king,
So greedy was thereof, that when he had
The body vp, and on his horse it bare,
To haue the spoyle thereof such hast he made,
That he did hang his shield without all care
Behind him at his backe, the easier
To pull the armor off at his desire.
And by that meanes his brest cleane open lay,
And nothing to defend nor saue the fame,
But his thin plates. Wherein I needs must say,
He was too vnadvis'd and much to blame:
And't grieues me that so braue a Champion,
And of all knighthood the onely pateron,
Should haue of his owne good so little care,
As not to thinke vpon his enemie,
That him so great and deadly hatred bare,
And watching time and opportunitie,
On him attended had all that same day,
To take him at advantage, and then lay
Close hovering not farre off from him, to spie
A time t'effect his purpose and desire,
For at that time Achilles so [...] die,
With heart repleat with wrath and furious ire,
(While Hector so the dead Kings body beare
Vpon his horse) tookevp a mightie speare
And therewith did at Hector fiercely ride,
And smote him vnawares with great despight
Into the heart, [...]hat he fell downe and dide:
And so that most renowned Troyan knight
Was slaine by carelesse bearing of his shield.
Whose death when as King Odemon beheld,
He was so grieu'd there at, that presently
He road vnto Achilles, and despight
Of all his Myrmidons, most furiously
Smote him so great a blow with all his might,
That downe for dead he fell vpon the plaine,
As if at that same time he had beene slaine.
Wherwith his knights straight laid him on a shield,
And bare him faire and softlie thence away
Into his tent, where staying to be heald,
Ile leaue him for a while sicke as he lay:
And show how when that night began t'appeare,
The Grecians that with fighting wearied were,
Vnto their tents retir'd, and lest the plaine.
And at that time the Troyans also went,
With heauie hearts into the towne againe,
And all the way did mournefully lament
For Hectors death, whose body solemnly
They bare with them, and weeping bitterly,
Vnto the Temple therewith all did goe.
And in that sort that dolefull day did end,
And all the night ensuing with great woe
And heavinesse, did after likewise spend:
Wherein I will them lea [...]e, and for a while
To mourne for Hectors death, ile turne my stile.

CHAP. VII.

¶ The complaint of Lidgate for the death of Hector; and the description of the sumptuous Toombe that King Priam made for him.

THe fearefull stile which I till now haue held,
Of dangerous, cruell, fierce, and bloody warre,
So numbs my hand, that I can hardly weld
My pen that is so clog'd with feare and care,
Of valiant Hectors death the truth to write,
Vnlesse some one vouchsafe me helpe t'indite.
But vnto whome shall I crie out or call
For helpe? it must not be to any one
Of those faire Nymphs amongst the Muses all,
That on Pernassus hill by Helicon,
So Angell-like with heavenly melodie,
Do sing together with such harmonie,
That no man can expresse nor well declare,
The sweet accord of their most pleasant song,
For they do never disagree nor iarre,
And haue their instruments most sweetly strong,
That they on them no dolefull tunes can sound,
Nor dittie sweet with woefull songs compound.
Of them therefore it boots me not to craue,
Their aid to helpe in this extreamitie,
And sure I am I shall as little haue
Of Clio, or of faire Caliope:
I therefore must make sute with woefull mone,
And many a grieuous sigth and gastly grone.
Vnto Megaera, Alecto, and Thesiphone,
That ever are in sorrow, and complaine
With brinish teares in bad condition:
For they still liue in extreame woe and paine
Eternally, and do in torments dwell
With triple headed Cerberns in hell.
Whome I must pray to be to me bening,
In this my case which is so lamentable,
For to a man whome sorrow still doth sting,
A shew of feare is alwaies commendable,
And in a matter full of heauinesse,
A heauie looke the same doth best expresse.
Helpe me herein o [...] Niobe to mone,
And in my pen some of thy teares distill.
Do thou the like oh cruell Exion.
And Be [...]ides that doest the bucket fill.
Helpe with thy roling stone good Sesiphus.
And furtherme also poore Tantalus,
That hungrest still in water without rest.
Helpe me I pray you all my plaints to end,
And let me craue of you to do your best,
To ayd me so that I my wits may bend,
With phrases fit the wofull chance to tell,
Of him that did in worthinesse excell.
And while he liu'd the root of Knighthood was,
The onely mirror of all Chivalrie,
The man that did all other men surpasse,
For valor and for great actiuitie:
And th'onlie patterne of all curtesie,
As Guido sheweth in this Historie.
Why shouldst thou die oh Hector valorous?
What was the cause thou tookst no better heed,
Oh Parchas fell and too too mischievous,
So carelesly to twist his vitall threed?
And what did mooue thee Atropos thereto,
So hastily to cut the same in two?
Oh Troy alas, well mayst thou mourne and cry,
And bitterly lament thy wofull state,
That art this day bereau'd so sodainly
(By most accursed, false, and wavering fate)
Of him that was thy speciall proppe and stay,
And chiefe defence and bulwarke night & day,
And he that onely made thee fortunate.
Now, now, alas, the brightnes of thy sunne
Ecclipsed is, and thou art desolate
Of comfort, and in manner cleane vndone:
Thy light is out, and thou dost plunged lie
In darknesse, for this day most certainlie
Is slaine the brauest, and the worthiest,
The most renowmed and chivalorous,
And of all valiant knights the hardiest
la battaile, and the most victorious
That ever was or shall be borne most sure
Within the world, while that it doth endure▪
No maruell then it is thou weepst so sore
For him, sith he both in thy woe and weale,
Was thy defence and comfort euermore,
And he whome thou didst loue and like so well:
That sure thou canst not proue so much vnkind,
As not to thinke still of him in thy mind.
For as the storie maketh mention,
There was not any one (of what degree
Or state so ere he was) within the towne,
But rather would (in that extreamitie)
Haue lost his child, to saue his life, if so
The Gods would haue beene pleas'd to graunt therto.
The women for their parts of every age,
Throughout the towne did stand along the street,
And for his death most pittiously did rage,
And with great flouds of teares their faces wet▪
And tearing of their haire for griefe and woe,
In furious wise ran crying too and fro.
Such extreame dolor at that time they made,
That pittie great it was the same to see,
The maids likewise no lesser sorrow had,
And wringing of their hands most pittiously,
Did sob and sith, and lowdly cry and call,
And said alas, now shortly t'will be fall,
That we shall see our fathers daily slaine
Before our eyes with great extreamitie,
For no man will our quarrell now sustaine,
Sith Hectors dead, for he was woont to be
Our onely trust, and in his valor stood
Our chiefest stay, our safety, and our good.
Whose bodie when King Priam did behold,
His heart it was so fild with extreame griefe,
That both his hands together he did fold,
And like a man cleane void of all reliefe,
His face with bitter teares did bath and drown'd,
And could not speake, but fell into a sownd.
And so as cold as any stone did lie,
And neither stird nor mooued foot nor hand,
Desiring rather presentlie to die,
Then in so great extreamitie to stand:
And in that sort on Hectors body lay,
Till that his sons by force puld him away.
Who also sad and sorrowfull to see
Their brother there lie dead before their eies,
Did fall into so great perplexitie,
That casting out most bitter sigths and crie,
They far'd as if their hearts would burst in sunder,
Which made all those that saw thē much to wōder,
For every one of them such dolor made,
And were so fild with griefe and great remorse,
That they did seeme as if no care they had,
But onely to haue dyed vpon the corse:
And did such lamentation make, that sure
A heart of flint could not so much endure.
What shall I say of Hecuba the Queene,
Or Cassandra that was esteem'd so wise,
Or of his sister Lady Policene,
Or how should I the sorrow great deuise,
To shew to you of his most woefull wife,
That loued him as dearely as her life?
Who all in great extreamity and woe,
As if they would haue kild themselues did weepe,
And rent and tare their golden haire, and so
Torment themselues, and such a noyse did keepe
`About his corse; that if particularly,
I should vpon me take to certifie
Their sorrows, griefes, and lamentations,
Their pittious sighs, and salt and brinish teares,
Their woe [...]ull cries and exclamations,
Their sad complaints, extreamities, and feares,
And all their mournfull jestures specifie,
It would too great a volume occupie.
If I should euery thing in order name,
And over long and tedious to be heard,
Of any man to listen to the same:
For many daies ensuing afterward,
They wept before the corse most wofully,
And rent and tare themselues so pittiously,
That wonder't was they could so much endure,
But that they're vs'd to weepe & to complaine,
For tis a point of womens nature sure,
Teares at command out of their eies to straine,
For euery thing wherewith they are displeas'd,
Till that their harts therby are somewhat eas'd.
And so [...]e let them sigh and sorrow still,
And wofully with extreame griefe complaine
In mourning weeds till they haue cryde their fill:
And I to them do turne my stile againe,
And shew how Priam by invention
Did find a way without corruption,
To keepe the body still vnburied
Aboue the earth, (the which will putrifie,
And cleane consume to dust when it is dead,
If in the aire aboue the ground it lie:
For if that Art do not surmount nature,
It cannot there long vncorrupt endure.)
Which to prevent King Priam did devise,
To haue the same preseru'd from filthy smell,
And lothsomnesse and horror to the eies,
To make it shew as liuely, fresh, and well,
As if that it still quicke and liuing were.
The charge whereof he was content to beare,
Whatere it cost, and sent men vp and downe,
To search and seeke with diligence and care,
For all the skilfulst workemen in the towne,
That could by Artsuch costly things prepare,
As might effect the worke that he would haue.
And to that end, to them commission gaue
Without delay to take the same in hand,
Which they perform'd & quickly brought to passe,
Within an ancient Temple that did stand,
Hard by the gate cald Timbria, and was
By Priam built, which he did dedicate,
And to his God Apollo consecrate.
Wherein hard by the Altar they did frame,
A Chappell made of rich and costly stone,
And at the vpper end within the same,
Vpon a stage did frame a Princely throane:
(So high as that within it they might set
An Image of proportion huge and great.)
Supported by foure Pillars all of gold,
With Angels standing on them all enchast
And graven, that most stately worke t'vphold,
The roofe whereof with arches overcast,
Was plated all with gold most sumptuously,
Embossed, knob'd, & knotted curiously.
And in each knob and knot a pretious stone,
Of value great and price inestimable,
Which both by day and night so brightly shone,
That they did make it shew as delectable
And lightsome in the darke & shady night,
As at noon-day whē Phoebus shone most bright.
To mount vp to this Princely throane there was
Twelue goodly faire and stately steps, that were
Most curiously compos'd of Christ all glasse,
Which showd so smooth, trāsparant, bright, & clere,
That men did them admire; & on each one
A pinacle there stood of Iasper stone,
At either end with Rubies rich enchast,
Vpon the points most stately to behold,
And on the top of all this worke was plast
A huge and mighty Image made of gold
Like Hector, which with countnance fierce did stand,
And lookt vpon the Greeks with sword in hand.
And in this throane king Priamus did place
The body of dead Hector, which by art
Was made to shew as liuely in the face,
Eies, colour, looke, and skin, and every part,
As when it liu'd, apparelled also,
As commonly on earth he vs'd to goe.
For that through pipes of gold which bowed down
By skilfull Art, and cunning policie,
A precious liquor ran into his Crowne,
And from that place with great subtiltie
Into his vaines, and sine [...] did deseend,
And by the vertue thereof did defend
And keepe his body from corruption,
And made his skin and colour show as pure
And liuely without alteration▪
As when he was a liuing creature:
And at his head there stood a voyoll full
Of precious balme, which ran into his soull,
And from the same by pipes composd by skill
Into his necke, and euery other place
Did penetrate, and with the same did fill
The vaines, and all the poores of his face,
And made it show as liuely and as fresh,
As if't had been a quicke and liuing flesh.
(The balme therein wrought so effectually,
Much like vnto a spirit vegitable,
The which without all sence in things doth lie,
And yet hath power and is availeable▪
By liuely force, and kind humiditie,
Life to infuse in flower, hearb, and tree.)
And likewise did the power thereof extend
Into each vaine, and sinew in his brest,
Backe, armes, & hands, and downeward did discend
Through all his bones, and ioynts, and ne're did rest
Till it did run into his thighs, and feet,
At which a voyoll full of gumme most sweet,
And balme was set, which neuer would decay,
Nor yet impaire by no distemperature,
But still increast and waxed euery day
Of greater force, and sweeter did endure.
Where of the vapor vpward did assend,
And such a pleasant savor forth did send,
And made all round about the aire to rise,
(For that it t'was most exquisitely good)
That it did seeme an earth by Paradize.
And fore the corps foure lamps of gold there stood
Within that place continually gaue light,
And neuer ceased burning day nor night.
All [...]ld with oyle, (if it be credible)
The which is sayd to be of such a kind,
That it was sound [...]be impossible
To [...] the [...] tempest, [...] or wind.
Not neuer [...] in many yeares,
Which lampes did hang high [...] by wiers.
And such [...],
That [...] the same to s [...]ell.
And when this worke was brought vnto an end,
And euery thing was done exceeding well,
And pleasd the eies of all that did it see,
They made a grate of wood of Heban tree:
(Which wood a [...]rmed is will ere indure,
And being cut doth smell exceeding sweet,
[...]d can by no meanes wast, for this is sure,
T▪will neuer burne by any extreame heat
Of fier, as it hath been tried oft.
[...] wa [...]er [...] n [...]re swimmeth vp alo [...]t,
But downe into the bottome straight doth go.
And as some men thereof make mention,
This tree hath been long since esteemed so
And heldon in such reputation,
That in the fertile soyle of India
And in the land of Ethiopia,
They vsd to pay a tribute as tis sound,
Of Ivory, fine gold, and Heban tree,
To th'Emperor as they thereto were bound)
And when King Priam saw the worke to bee
Performed in so braue and sumptuous wise,
That he in heart no better could deuise,
He did ordaine a quier of Priests to pray
Continually with great deuotion,
Before that Princely throne both night and day
For Hectors [...]oule, and gaue them pentions
To liue vpon, and roomes wherein to lie,
And bound them to do't perpetually.
But while that they are in their orations,
With Hectors death my third Booke I will end.
And for a while will leaue the Troians
In sorrow great, and woe the time to spend.
And show you what the Grecians meane while do,
If that you please to hearken therevnto.
FINJS.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF HECTOR.
THE FOVRTH BOOKE.

CHAP. 1.

¶ How the Grecians depriued Agamemnon of his place of Genorall of their Armie, and made Pallamides Generall in his place.

THe worthy Champion Hector, beeing slaine,
And fierce Achilles borne vnto his tent.
Whereas he lay in danger great, and paine.
King Agamemnon for the Grecians sent,
Next day betimes assooue as sonne did rise,
To aske of them their counsell and advise,
What would be best for them as then to doe,
Sith they by vallant Hectors death were free
From danger great which he had put them two,
And out of feare of his great crueltie.
And when that they were altogether met
Within his tent, and there in order set,
And silence made, he spake vnto them all,
And sayd my Lords and Princes euery one
That now are heere: If you to mind will call
What good the Gods of late for you haue done.
You ought to giue them thanks with humble voice,
And inwardly in heart and mind reioyce,
To thinke on Hectors death, for he alone
Was th'onely prop and chiefe support of Troy,
Their whole defence, and their protection,
Their chiefest trust, their honour, and their ioy.
And vnto vs confusion and death,
For that while he enioyed vitall breath.
We neuer could his valor great withstand,
Nor victory against our foes obtaine.
For when that we did first set foot on lend,
Prothesalus by him was fiercely slaine.
And next day when in field againe we met,
He did vpon Patroclus fiercely set,
And with his sword did cleaue his brest in twaine,
And after kild King Menon furiously
And next by him Archilagus was slaine,
And in his wrath and extreame crueltie,
He slew the most renowned Prothenor,
And then the valiant King cald Alphenor.
King Phillis also and Epistrophus,
And Merian a Prince of great renowne.
And after him a King cald Zantipus,
And in the field as he road vp and downe,
He flew two Kings, the one cald Dorius,
The other had to name King Cedius.
And after that he kild strong Polibet,
L [...]aboni [...], Policenes, and more,
For in his wrath he slew King Phi [...]b [...],
And to the ground in surious wife he bore,
And kild the valiant King Isidius,
And then the noble King cald Humorus,
For eighteene great and worthy Kings, and many
Braue Earles, Dukes, and Princes he hath slaine,
With thousands more. So that not euer any
Likevalor to him showd, nor could obtaine
Such victory gainst vs, for that his hand
Was th'onely terror to vs in this Land.
But'now he's dead, to our no little ioy,
(The Gods be thankt therefore) and to the woe
And great distresse of all that are in Troy,
As by experience time to them will show.
Laud also and much honor giuen be
To Fortune, for her great benignitie
Vnto vs showne in helping vs so well,
To bring that furious Champion to his end,
By turning of her [...]alse and fickle wheele,
And vnto vs such fauor did extend.
That by his death while this warre doth endure,
All we that now are here, may liue secure.
With comfort great and ease of extreame care
And feare we had of him while that he liu'd.
Where contrary the Tr [...]ians all now are
(By death of him that onely them relieud)
Texpect nought els but their destruction,
And finally their townes subversion.
For now he's gone, they cannot long endure,
For be assur'd we will them so much grieue,
(That from hence forth we may our selues assure
To haue our wils on them ere we them leaue.)
And make this siedge to them importable,
If we doe hold together firme and stable.
Their ship in th'end is like to proue a wracke,
And ready with huge billowes t'orewhelme,
For all their hope and comfort goeth backe▪
And deepe despaire is guider of the [...] helme.
And maketh them continually depend
On death, while we our state do still amend;
By ayd of God both on the sea and land,
For now without all ambiguitie,
We may expect the victory at hand;
And boldly light with great securitie
Against our foes, without all feare or dread▪
But yet my counsell is ere we proceed
T'assaile our foes, as we intend to doe,
To stay a while and not to passe our bonds,
Till that Achilles to the fieild may goe
With vs, when he is healed of his wounds.
And then we will assaile them valiantly,
And put them to most great extreamitie.
And till we haue destroid them neuer cease,
Meane time wele send vnto King Priamus
A messenger for to entreat with him for peace
For two moneths space, if he will graunt it vs:
Whereto I doe not doubt but he'le agree,
Sith for his good as well as ours twill bee.
For he thereby may libertie obtaine,
To celebeate the funeralles of those
Dead Troians that within the field lie slaine,
And serue for food to beast and carrion Crowes:
And such a shincke into the aire doe cast,
That t'cannot chuse but breed the plague at last.
And we the while may doe the same likewise,
And heale our wounds, and giue our bodies rest.
And so when they had all agreed by good aduise,
Considered of his speech, and found it best
For them to do't. They did thereto consent,
And presently a messenger was sent
To Troy for truce, which graunted was full soone
By Priamus, and he returned againe
With speed, and made to them relation▪
What he had done while he did there remaine,
And for that truce, their counsell brake vp so,
And euery one vnto his tent did go.
And while the truce endur'd, and they lay still,
And leisure had to thinke on their estate:
Pallamides whose heart began to fill
And swell with pride, disclaine, and deadly hate▪
Grutch in his mind that King Agamemnon,
Because he had the sole dominion,
And ore the Grecian house was Generall,
And for that cause did envy him so much,
(And into such a great conceit did fall
Of his owne worth,) that he began to grutch,
And murmured with indignation
At him, and in his furious passion▪
Did seeme to vse such tearmes to his disgrace,
That all that heard the same might easily know
What he did meane, and yet he let it pas,
As thought he made no account thereof in show.
Till in the end that King Agamemnon,
Who was a Prince of great discretion,
Did heare thereof, and knowing his intent,
Determind with him selfe to moue the same
Vnto the Grecian Princes in his [...]en [...],
And when they all together thither came,
And orderly were set. That worthy King
Agamemnon, a Prince in euery thing
So cercumspect, so wise, and prouident,
So temperate, demure, and vertuous,
So prudent, well advisd, and patient,
And neuer giuen to be malicious:
Although he knew Pallamides intent,
And saw how much his heart to pride was bent.
With decent tearmes and great discretion,
(As he that could well frame and tell his mind,
And so restraine the same from passion
And hastines, or any other kind
Of bad behauiour, or vnseemelinesse,
That nothing past but with advisednesse
Out of his mouth, as first considered
Within his heart with great sincerity,
And neither for affection nor for dread,
Would seeme to breake the bonds of modesty.
Nor in his speeches superfluously let pas
One word, or sentence that vnseemely was.)
He first saluted all his company:
And when he had causd silence to be made,
In seemely wise and in great curtesie,
He spake vnto Pallamides and sayd,
You need not King Pallamides said he,
As I suppose, if you advised be,
To muse o [...] grutch that I am Generall
Of our great hoast, if you considered
How I attaind thereto by choise of all
The Princes here, and that t'was offered
To me by full and free Election,
And not hy any composition
By me, or any for me, to procure
The same in my behalfe once giuen or made,
For there of in my heart I am most sure,
No such ambitious thought I euer had:
Nor neuer dreamt of any such pretence,
But am most cleare thereof in conscience.
Which neuer moued was with such vaine glory,
As to aspire, or any waies contest
For this estate, which is but transitory,
Though I must say that I haue done my best,
To see and looke that all things might be well,
And for the good of this our common wele.
And also that I had a speciall care,
As tis my charge while I the same do hold,
Of every mans estate particular.
And euer an indifferent eye did hold
To all degrees of persons high or low,
To help them in their need, when I did know
That they had need of ayd, and day and night,
Was alwaies moued with great carefulnes,
And speciall heed as much as ere I might;
To see that none did fall into distresse.
And such a iealous eye thereto I had,
That in my heart I was exceeding glad
To do the best I could to please each one,
And that no man should at me take offence,
Nor haue in me the least suspition,
Of envy, sloath, or any negligence
In my estate, but euer more desir'd
To doe my best, as time and place requir'd,
For euery man without exception.
And therefore I assure my selfe full well,
That in the hoast there is not any one
Of high or low estate that I can tell,
That can or may accuse me certainely
Of falsehood, or of partiality,
In his behalfe, for I haue alwaies had
So great a care to nourish vnitie
And friendship mong you all, that I was glad
To see you liue in loue and amitie.
So that till now I am full well assur'd,
That while I in this office haue endur'd,
No such occasion hath been ministred,
And all the Gods well know I neuer feard,
Nor cared, though you had determined
An other in my place to haue preferd:
And giuen him the soueraintie,
And let me liue at ease and libertie
In quietnes of mind, as many more
Great Lords, and Princes here amongst you may,
That I might with my whole desire and power,
Fight for our common weale both night and day.
And ere in this our quarrell (if so be
It please the Gods) it should so hap to me.
Which for my part I speake and doe not faine,
For t'were no boot for me herein to lie.
And where you say, and thereof do complaine
That I was chosen without your priuitie:
Tis true indeed, as euery man can tell
You were not here, if you remember well.
Nor came not hither vnto Troy, well nere
After that we our voyage had begun,
And planted this our siedge, in two whole yeare,
And for to let so long time ouer-run,
To stay till you had come, it might perchance
Haue been to vs a mighty hinderance,
And extreame hurt, for if that we had staid,
And laine so long at Athens still for you,
(As by your selfe it cannot be denaid,)
It's like we had remained there till now.
And where you did esteem't vncredible,
And held it for a thing impossible
For Grecians to presume in any wise,
(Without the ayd and helpe of yours and you;)
To take on them so great an enterprize,
It's nothing so, as you see plainely now.
For they without offence (to you be't sayd)
By force and power without you or your ayd,
Performed haue with most victorious hand,
And by their valor great, and worthines,
Great matters both by water and by land:
And where you thinke, and say of me no lesse,
That I am proud of this my great estate,
To see my selfe so highly eleuate:
And that I seeme because of my degree
Of Generall, t'extoll and magnifie
My selfe too much: It is so farre from mee,
That for to proue and show the contrarie,
And put you cleane out of suspition,
I will thereof make resignation
Vnto you now, my selfe thereby t'excuse,
And for that cause I doe aduise you all,
Against to morrow in the morne to chuse,
Whom you will haue to be your Generall:
For I therein will make no more delay,
And so their counsell ended for that day.
And they went to their tents to rest all night.
And next day in the morning ere the sun
Began with radiant beames to shine most bright,
They met againe for the Election:
And when they were assembled all together,
And knew the cause why they did then come thi­ther:
Agamemnon with sober smiling cheare,
Rose vp vpon his feet, and to them spake,
And sayd, my Lords that are assembled here,
I need no long discourse vnto you make,
To show how I with heart and good intent
Haue laboured in this my gouernment.
To see that all things might be done so well,
That they vnto your good would wholy tend,
And for th'aduancement of your common weale,
By ayd of Gods, and Fortune that did lend
Their grace and helping hand therein to me,
Whereby your state as yet doth seeme to be
Maintaind in honor great, and noblenesse,
So that while you do flourish, and vphold
The same entire, and in great happinesse,
I thinke it best for me that now I should
My gouernment vnto you all resigne,
While Fortune to the same is so benigne.
For of so many that here present are,
I know my selfe most insufficient,
Alone to take so great a charge and care
On me, and for that cause tis my intent,
To leaue the same, for he may ouerwhelme
A ship, that knowes not how to guide the helme.
My whole desire therefore is, that you would
Giue leaue to me t'resigne my gouernment,
And charge which I of all this hoast do hold,
So that no man therewith be discontent.
And let vs now with one intention,
Without all strife, and all dissention,
Amongst vs find and chuse out such a one
As we do like, and is most fit and meet
To gouerne vs by good discretion,
And in the place of Generall to set.
Whereto they all agreed with one consent,
And as he sayd▪ to chuse one were content.
Here you may see, that tis a vsuall thing
With men to take delight in novelties,
And that there thoughts are alwaies wauering;
And led away with foolish fantasies.
In them most sure ther's no securitie,
For all their minds are on varietie.
And their delights in alteration;
And change of state, and neuer are content
Nor seldome hold in one opinion.
To day to loue some one man they are bent,
Next day theyle hate that man as much againe,
And neuer doe in constant mind remaine.
For in a vaine of meere new [...]anglenes,
Which at that t [...]me mou'd their affection
With great oresight, and much vnthankfulnes,
In steed of valiant King Agamemnon,
They all agreed with one consent and voice,
Of King Pallamides to make their choice
To beare the rule and gouernment of all
The Grecian hoast, and with most great applause,
Gaue him the state and name of Generall,
To rule and gouerne them by Martiall lawes.
Like as the worthy King Agamemnon,
Had done before with great discretion.
Which done, they brake vp counsell for that day,
And euery man vnto his tent did goe.
But when Achilles, who then wounded, lay
Sore sicke within his tent, thereof did know,
And heard how they all with one will and voice,
Of King Pallamides had made there choise:
He was much grieu'd thereat, and flatly sayd,
Agamemnon in his opinion,
Much fitter was the place still to haue had
Then th'other, and that their Election
In that case was not good, nor commendable,
Nor by their Martiall law available,
Because t'was done without consent of all
The Princes in the hoast, he being one
Whom they did neither summon, nor yet call
To be with them at their Election.
And did esteem't to him a great offence,
That they did make that choise in his absence.
And for that cause he was exceeding wroth,
And cha [...]ed sore, but t'was to little end,
For whether he therewith was leefe or loth,
They would no eare vnto his speeches lend.
For no Election more the Grecians would
For that time make, But sayd, it should so hold.

CHAP. II.

¶ How King Priamus in person issued out of Troy with a puissant [...]ast to reuenge Hectors death, and fought most valiantly against the Grecians.

THe time of truce aforesayd being out,
The next ensuing morrow Priamus,
Though old in yeares, yet valorous and stout
Of heart, was in his mind desirous,
Against the Grecians valiantly to fight,
T'reuenge the death of Hector if he might.
Which when the Troians knew, and did behold
Their aged Kings great courage, and his might,
They were exceeding glad, and sayd they would
Aduenture life and lim with him to fight
Against the Greeks, and therefore euery one
Did arme himselfe with resolution:
That day to issue forth with Priamus,
And those of Troy that armor bare as then,
Were as my Author Dares [...]elleth vs,
An hundred and iust fiftie thousand men,
Besides all those of other countries
That ayded him against his enemies.
And first into the field went Deiphobus,
And after him his brother Paris led
The second ward, the third King Priamus,
Then Menon, and Aeneas followed.
And last of all Pollidamas did goe
The rere-ward to conduct in warlike shoe.
And that same day vpon the Grecians side,
With mighty troopes all in good order set,
Pallamides with heart replcat with pride,
The Troians in the field most brauely met.
And when the Battailes ioynd on either side,
King Priam to Pallamides did [...]ide,
And like a worthy Prince of great renowne,
Most valiantly vnhorst him with his launce,
And cleane out of his sadle bare him downe
Vnto the ground, and forward did aduance
Himselfe, and road among the Grecians,
And with his trenchant blade in both his hands,
So heawd, beat downe, and mightily ore-run
The Grecians in the field where he did ride,
That they for feare his puissant blowes did shun,
And durst not in his furious sight abide.
And them so fast and cruelly did slay,
That wheresoere he road they made him way.
And shund his sword he was so furious.
For all that day he fought so valiantly,
And shewd himselfe so strong and valorous;
That wonder t'was he could so puissantly,
And long in field against his foes endure,
Being of so great an age, for tis most sure
That by his valor great and puissant might,
Which he that time couragiously did shoe,
He put the proud and haughtie Greeks to flight.
His Sonne Deiphobus valiantly also,
That followed him, so fiercely on them set,
That he did kill and beat downe all he met.
King Sarpedon likewise that time did fall
Vpon the valiant King Neptolemus,
The prowdest Greeke at that time mongst them all
And he likewise with heart couragious
At Sarpedon did run, and with great might,
Out of his sadle fiercely did him smight.
But Sarpedon with fell and wrathfull hart,
The which with rage and anger burned hot,
Did suddainly vpon his feet vp start,
And with his sword Neptolemus he smot
Into the thigh a great and cruell wound,
Wherewith he made him fall vpon the ground.
But when the King of Percia did perceiue
King Sarpedon stand fighting on his feet
In danger great, he did him straight relieue,
And on the greeks so furiously did set,
That in despight of them by mighty force
He holpe him soone againe vnto his horse.
But at that time King Menelaus came thither,
And Menestes Th'athenian Duke, who both
With many troopes of Grecian Knights together,
In furious wise and with exceeding wroth,
Vpon the King of Percia did fall,
And did enclose him round amongst them all.
Who fighting with them valiantly and long,
At last when he their force could not sustaine,
They did so thicke and fast vpon him throng,
He was by them with disaduantage slaine.
Whose death so much the Troians did dismay,
That they retird and gaue the Grecians way.
Till Sarpedon with bloody sword in hand,
Couragiously did many Grecians slay,
And did their force and furie so withstand,
That he not onely forst the Greeks to stay,
But draue them all before him on the plaine,
And made the Troians win their ground againe.
While Priamus vpon the other side,
With all his sonnes that bare him company,
Amongst the Grecians valiantly did ride,
And kild, and beat them downe: but specially
King Priamus with many a bloody wound,
Did kill and slay all he before him found.
So that not any Troian young or old,
What soere he was though nere so high and strong
Of body and of lim, nor nere so bold,
That time did fight so furiously and long,
As Priamus himselfe, for he alone
That day was many a Greeks destruction,
And vtter ouerthrow. For that theire
Wherewith he was at that time wholy led,
And made his heart to burne as hot as fire,
For causes two was then redoubled.
One for th'inveterate hatred which he bare
Vnto the Greeks, the other cause he sware,
And vou'd to be reuenged if he might,
For Hectors death, which put him in such rage,
That while he had the Grecians in his sight,
He could his choller by no meanes asswage.
But doubling his strength so fiercely fought,
That many a Greeke that day t'his death he broght,
And so continued in such furious wise
To take reuenge on them, that in despight
Of all his fierce and cruell enemies,
By valor great he put them all to flight.
But they by slight the Troians to beguile,
When they had fled before them for a while,
Did wheel about and suddenly went downe
Into a very great and spacious plaine,
That lay betweene the Troians and the towne,
Intending some aduantage so to gaine
Vpon their foes, and to that end did set
Great Ambuscadoes euery way to let.
And keepe them from going into Troy againe,
And certainely had don't by likelihood:
If Priamus had not with mighty paine,
And valor great most brauely them withstood
Who at that time like Lyon fierce and strong,
With sword in hand did ride into the throng
And thickest of the Greeks, and valiantly
Brake all their rancks, & with deepe wounds & wide,
Hact, hewd, & beat them downe so puissantly,
That no man durst his trenchant sword abide.
For whosoere he stroke was surely slaine,
Wheresoeuer he did ride throughout the plaine.
At which time also Paris did so fast
Pursue them with his bowes and crosbowes shot,
And piercing darts, which through their armors past
And by that meanes such vantage on them got,
That they began to giue the Troians place,
And Priamus did them so hotly chase,
That being put to great extremitie,
By meanes of his exceeding force and might,
And to avoyd his extreame crueltie,
They did with mighty feare and great despight
Flie to their [...]ents, glad they escaped so,
And they of Troy into the towne did go.
Because as then it drew fast toward night,
For Phoebus with his chariot west did hie
Vnto the Indian coast to giue them light.
And so the honour of the victory
Was wholy giuen to Priamus alone,
Who by his valor great the same had wone.
To ease his heart of that exceeding sorrow
Which he therein conceiud for Hectors sake,
But yet vpon the next ensuing morrow
He sent vnto the Greekes a truce to make
With them, whereto they gladly did agree,
But how long time the same should holden bee,
It's not exprest. In which time they of Troy
Great preparation made with dilligence,
The Percian Kings dead body to conuoy,
According to his state with reuerence,
And honor great into his countrie,
That he in decent wise entombe might be:
And buried mongst his progenitors
The Percian Kings, and so most solemnely
His Captaines and his other officers,
Did take the corps embalmed sumptuously,
And layd it in a Chariot couered ore
With blacke, and so in mournfull weeds it bore
To Percia, conuaied with a rout
Of his owne worthy Knights, and many more,
That in most dolefull wise did ride about
The body, and behind, and eke before
The same did goe vnto the buriall.
And at that time the sumptuous funerall
Of Hector was in Troy solemnized,
According to the manner in those daies,
The which with honor great was hallowed,
(As Guido and his Author Dares saies.)
For space of fourteene daies continually,
And all that while within the sanctuary.
Great store of lights did burne and neare went out,
Which custome they continually did keepe
From yeare to yeare as it did run abo [...]t,
Wherein they neuer ceast to mourne and weepe,
And watcht and praied there both night and day,
In mourning weeds, and neuer went away
From thence, but on there knees continued there,
Before the tombes of their dead friends: and so
The Troians who great griefe in mind did beare
For Hectors death, in woefull wise did goe,
All clad in blacke to mourne and to lament
His death, till that full fourteene daies were spent,
The which they did, with great solemnitie,
While that th'aforesaid truce continued was
When as the Greeks might with free libertie
Go into Troy, and without danger pas
The gates thereof, and they of Troy also
As freely might vnto the Grecians go.
At which time when Achilles wounds were curd,
And that he could well trauell vp and downe,
He had a great desire while truce endur'd
To enter into Troy to see the towne,
And to behold the sumptuous funerall
For Hector made, by all in generall
Within the same, and so vnarmd (without
Assurance, other then the truce then made,
Whereof in those daies men stood not in doubt▪)
He went to Troy, and entring in nere staid,
But to Apolloes Temple straight did go,
Wherein as then with braue and warlike sho,
According to the Pagans ancient rights,
The funerall was there accomplished
In presence of great multitudes of Knights,
And Lords and Ladies faire, who then did shead
Great store of teares with much affection,
And on their knees fell downe before the throne
Whereas the corps of that most worthy Knight
Vnburied stood vpright vpon his feet,
And seemd as fresh and faire vnto the sight,
(By vertue of the precious gums most sweet,
And balme) the which his flesh did so reuiue,
That he did shew as he had been aliue.
And at this feast and great solemnitie,
Queene Hecuba with Policene and other
Faire Dames, and Princes of great dignitie
Sat weeping, and in company together
Apparelled in sad and mournfull blacke,
Such lamentation at that time did make
For Hectors death as nere the like was seene.
And yet for all the sorrow that they made,
The faire and goodly Lady Pollicene,
No part of her great beautie changed had,
But still a crimson red and white most cleare
Within her face and countnance did appeare
For all the teares that she as then did shead,
Which trickled downe her cheeks like poa [...]les fine:
Her haire that then hung round about her head
In careles wi [...]e, like golden wier did shine,
And show'd like Phebus glistring beams most bright
When he doth cast on vs his radiant light.
Which with her fingers small [...]e rent and tare,
Whose beautie when Achilles did behold,
He did esteeme the same to be so rare,
That he did muse how God and Nature could
Deuise and make so faire [...] creature,
For comlines of face, and feature:
So Angell-like she did to him appeare,
That he to looke on her could not indure,
For with her christall eies most faire and cleare,
She stroake him then into the heart so sure,
That for her loue which was his whole desire,
He burnt within as hot as any fire.
And sodainely againe with griefe he shooke
Like one that is in feare, yet euermore
Vpon her he did cast a glancing looke,
For Cupids dart had pierced him so sore
Into the brest, and giuen him such a wound,
That it was likely neuer to be sound.
And as he durst he lookt her in the face,
And still approacht vnto her with his eie,
For whom (if that in her he found no grace,)
He made account assuredly to die.
For he was fallen and caught in such a snare,
That of his health he was in great despaire,
And in his heart he was perplexed so,
That care of all things els he did reiect,
For knowing not what he were best to do,
He did himselfe and all his state neglect,
To set his thought on her, and in this wise
He fed himselfe with sight of her faire eyes.
Till Phoebus with his char [...] did decline,
And to the Westerne coasts began to draw,
And on their hemisphere no more did shine.
When as he cast his eies about and saw
Queene Hecuba with Pollicene, and mo,
Out of the Temple to the Pallace go.
On whom he neuer ceast to haue a sight,
As she did pas along, till that she went
Out of the gate, and he no longer might
With her faire eies giue to his heart content.
And then no longer in the towne be staid,
But going to his tent himselfe he layd
Vpon his bed with sad and heauy cheare,
Whereas he lay still thinking on his loue,
Whose beauty in his sight did so appeare,
And as he thought still more and more did moue
His heart the same with great desire to craue,
That he no rest no [...] any ease could haue.
For loue of whom such burning heat he felt,
And extreame paine, which did torment him so,
That with the same he thought his heart wold melt,
And in that sort he tumbled too and fro.
And like a man halfe dead and fore dismaid,
Vnto himselfe he spake, and thus he sayd,
Alas quoth he, that fortune so vnkind
Should be to me, to make me feele and know
Such griefe that I no end thereof can find,
For that it doth my heart so ouerflow,
As I suppose that since the world began,
There nere was found a more distressed man.
(For I that whilome was of so great might,
Renowned throughout the world of high and low,
And honoured and feared of euery wight,
For no man euer heard no [...] yet did know,
Of any Knight that was more valorous
Then I, nor euer more victorious.
For neither Hector that most valiant Knight,
That was my Lady Pollicenes deare brother,
Although he was of most exceeding might,
And hardy therewithall, nor any other,
The power had when he on me did set,
The least aduantage vpon me to get.
Nor in the field my courage once could daunt,
Or make me yeild, of fearefully to flie,
Whereof I may vnto my selfe now vaunt.)
Because I am assurd i [...] is no lie.
Now, now alas, a mayd of tender age,
Hath suddenly set me in such a rage:
And with the streames of her faire Christall eies,
Hath pierst my woefull heart and euery vaine,
That I cannot by any meanes deuise
How to relieue my selfe, or ease my paine.
On whom shall I for counsell now re [...]e?
Or who can giue me any remedy,
To ease and cure my griefe and heauines?
For this is sure, that hope for me ther's none,
If death end not my woe and great distresse,
But her good will, and that from me is gone:
For neither prayer, wealth, nor comlines,
Strength, power, courage, nor yet Noblenes,
Birth, honor, blood, nor great affinitie,
Can ought availe to helpe me now in need,
To moue her stony heart (to pittie me)
For whom my heart with inward griefe doth bleed.
What fury hath possest my restles braine,
That it should so gainst nature me constaine,
And make me proue so much vnfortunate▪
As for to seeke mine owne confusion,
To loue and like of her that doth me hate?
But truth to say, when as I thinke thereon,
No marvell tis that she doth me despise,
Sith I am come to Troy in warlike wise▪
To kill, and to destroy her kindred,
And all her friends by fierce and cruell warre,
Wherein the blood I haue already shead
Of Hector her deare brother, who both farre
And neare was known to be the valiantst knight
That euer liu'd, for valor, and for might.
Alas for woe, now may I quake for feare,
And of my life dispaire both day and night,
For with what face can I fore her appeare,
Or be so bold to come into her sight?
That haue offended her in such a fashion,
As that in truth I merit no remission
Nor pardon at her hands, but certainely
Must yeild my selfe the sentence to abide
Of cruell death, to end my miserie,
Which doth enclose me round on euery side.
And so with many sobs and sighes most deepe,
He did begin so bitterly to weepe,
And made such woefull lamentation,
That pittie it was for any man to heare,
Or see the griefe and cruell passion,
Which he with great extremitie did beare
Within his mind, and outwardly exprest,
And so he lay, and by no meanes could rest
But tumbled on his bed till night came on,
Wherein as little comfort he receau'd
As in the day, for rest he could get none,
So that of all reliefe, and ioy bereau'd,
He did continue still in griefe, and sorrow,
Till that the starre cald Lucifer next morrow
Began in th'east (ere Phoebus did arise,)
To shew itselfe, and brightly to appeare.
When drencht in teares, with wet and heauy eies
For want of rest, and quaking with the feare▪
And griefe he had conceiued in his hart:
He held his peace, and presently vp start,
And calling one to him he trusted well,
And whom he knew desird and wisht his good▪
He did from point to point vnto him tell
What he had done, and how with him it stood,
And sent him to the towne of Troy to speake
With Hecuba, and vnto her to breake
The matter, and by his discretion
To find a meanes if possible it were,
To giue to him some satisfaction,
In that which he s [...]mpatiently did beare.
Who presently vnto the Queene did go,
And handled the matter with her so,
And did so wisely play his part therein,
Before that he did vtter their pretence,
That he had licence graunted of the Queene
To tell his mind to her without offence:
With promise whatsoever that it were,
She would vouchsafe the same of him to heare.
To whom he did his message so explaine,
That no man euer heard a better p [...]d,
For from his mouth there past no word in vaine,
No [...] sentence, but was spoken to some end:
And at the last he brought it finely out,
With many circumstances fetcht about,
And told her, that the full conclusion,
And purpose of his message verily,
Was with a stedfast resolution,
To set a perfect peace and vnitie
Betweene the Greeks and Troians that same day,
Whereto he sayd, he knew no better way,
(If he might be beleeu'd) for both their ease,
(And t'end the mortall strife and bitter rage
Of warre, and all dissention to appease)
Then speedily to make a marriage
Betweene Achilles and faire Polixene
Her daughter, if that so t'wold please the Queene
Whereby he sayd, all enmitie would cease▪
If she could by her good discretion,
Find meanes King Priams anger to appease,
And by her wit and mediation,
Get him to be well pleased, and content
With willing mind to giue his free consent
That Polixene his daughter should be made
Achilles wife, vpon condition,
As he at first vnto her then had sayd,
That all the Greeks should presently be gon
And leaue that bloody warre, assoone as euer
They two by marriage should be linckt together.
Whose message when the Queene did vnderstand,
And know th'effect of that he did require.
She did a while as one amazed stand,
And ere she answere made to his desire:
She sighed sore, and then with heauy cheare,
She spake and sayd vnto the messenger:
My friend, concerning that thou dost request,
I cannot of my selfe thereto consent,
Yet for my part I will be alwaies prest,
And with my heart am willing and content
Thy maisters will therein to satisfie,
[...] And so I would thou shouldst him certifie.
But first I must King Priams pleasure know,
If he will graunt to that which thou dost moue,
And I must likewise vnto Paris show
Th'effect and meaning of thy maister loue.
To see if he will giue consent thereto,
The which as soone as ere I can, ile doe.
Whereof I will an answere make to thee
Within three daies, and then ile satisfie
Thy Lord, if he will send againe to me.
Meane time thou mai'st returne with safety,
And satisfie thy maister in some part,
Of his desire to ease his troubled hart.
And therewithall the messenger went backe
Vnto Achilles tent, with countnance glad,
To whom he did in such wise answere make
Concerning that which he declared had
Vnto Queene Hecuba, that he thereby
Was somewhat easd, and looked cheerefully.
In hope that by that meanes he should in th'end
Attaine to that which he so much desird,
And so well pleas'd in mind, he did attend
The three daies time by Hecuba requird:
To answere vnto that he did propound.
Who presently when she King Priam found
At leisure all alone, to him did moue
The matter touching that Achilles had
Made knowne to her, and that he was in loue
With Pollicene, and for her sake had made
A profer to procure a finall peace
Betweene the Greeks and Troians, and to cea [...]
All warre and mortall strife, so that he would
Giue her to him. The which when he perceiud,
He did the Queene with countnance [...]ad behold
And as it were a man of speech bereau'd,
Sat mute, and woundred to himselfe wherefore
Achilles should loue Pollicene so sore,
That he would make that offer for her sake.
And at the last he sigh'd and sayd, alas
What griefe is this, that I no peace can make?
For can Achilles wrong so lightly pas
Out of my head, when as I thinke how he
Slew my son Hector by his crueltie?
Who while he liu'd, as't cannot be deni'd,
Of me and mine was th'onely safety,
And speciall stay, supporter, and the guide
Of all that vnder my command now be.
And to speake truth, he was as t'were the light
Of both mine eies, for by his puiffant might
He did protect and saue me from the rage
And cruell furie of my Grecian foes,
And was the staffe of all my age.
But now alas (which filles me full of woes.)
Achilles hath him slaine, which from my mind
Shall neuer pas, for who in heart can find
To be alied vnto his mortall foe?
And hard it were to bend my heart, to loue
Him that is cause of all my griefe, and woe,
And by that meanes the Grecians proud doth moue
T'insult on me, now fortune doth m [...] crosse
And frownes on me, and onely for the losse
Of Hector my deare son that was my stay.
Yet gainst my heart (which doth for anger riue)
Sith that as now there is no other way,
I will, (though loath) against my nature striue▪
For truth to say, it grieueth me full sore,
Yet to eschew great dangers many more,
Which likely are to happen vnto me,
And to preserue my sonnes that yet do liue,
I am content and therevnto agree,
My youngest daughter Pollicene to giue
Vnto Achilles, on condition he
Shall hold his promise he hath made, to be
The meanes to make a truce and finall peace
Betweene the Greeks and Troians, and that wee
Our mortall warre from hence-forth shall surcease▪
But least that he should meane some treacherie,
I will that he shall first performe the offer,
Which he so freely of himselfe doth proffer:
Without all fraud or false collusion.
Which Paris also did consent vnto:
(The rather for that no exception
What they with faire Queene Helena would do,
Was made therein, whereby he did suppose
That Menelans should her for euer lose.
And neuer haue her into Greece againe,
And therefore he did freely without strife
Agree thereto, that he might so obtaine
His will to haue Queene Helen for his wife,
Without all doubt or contrariety,
For in her was his whole felicitie.
And when the three daies foresaid ended were,
Achilles vnto Hecuba straight sent
His messenger againe, of her t'inquire
What Priam sayd, concerning his intent.
To whom she told at large what had been don,
And how that she the King thereto had won.
And Paris likewise to consent thereto,
As also that her selfe well willing was
With them t'agree, and graunt it should be so,
If he could find the meanes to bring't to pas,
That peace betweene them, (as he said he would)
Perpetually for euermore should hold.
The which she sayd he must first bring about,
And sure and perfect make in each condition:
And then he should not need to stand in dout
Of speeding in his loue, with expedition.
Wherewith Achilles messenger content,
Out of the towne vnto his maister went.
To whom he told the answere that was made
By Hecuba to him, wherewith well pleas'd,
And seeing that no other way he had
But peace whereby he might of griefe be eas'd:
He purposed to bring the same t'effect,
And did no time, nor any meanes neglect,
To find a way t'impart the same vnto
The Greeks, the which while he did goe about,
Supposing certainely that they would do
The same for him, and yet thereof did doubt.
At last into a desperate mind he fell,
And did perswade himselfe in heart full well,
That he the power had to worke his will,
And that without all cause of doubt or feare,
The Grecians would most redily fulfill
His mind, and graunt to that he should require,
And in that sort he did himselfe perswade
All should fall out, (as he devised had,)
According to his will and fantasie,
As louers vse to doe. Who whatsoere
They take in hand thinke, it must certainely
Fall out, though nere s'impossible it were.
So much their minds with folly are possest.
And so Achilles did set downe his rest,
And was in hope his mind to satisfie,
Supposing that for his great worthines,
His mighty strength, and his actiuitie,
His high renowne, and passing valiantnes.
(Whereof with no small pride great boast [...]e made,
And in himselfe therefore much glory had.)
The Grecians would be in dispaire and feare
For euer winning Troy, if he withheld
His helping hand, and that by him they were
Forsaken, when they went into the field:
And would at last, and onely for his sake
The siedge of Troy and all their warre forsake.
Vnlesse that he among them still did stay
To helpe them till that they had made an end.
And for that cause he made no more delay,
But did procure Pallamides to send
For all the Lords vnto his tent to know,
What vnto them he did intend to show.
And when that they assembled were together,
Achilles spake, and sayd as you shall heare:
My Lords, sith it hath pleas'd you to come hither,
And that at my request you summond were;
Let me desire you without offence
To tell my mind before this audience:
I know sayd he, that for the prouidence,
The wisedome, and the great discretion,
The valor, mighty force, and sapience,
The honour, wealth, and excellent renowne.
Wherewith you are endowed, your worthy name
From East to West is spread by trompe of Fame:
But nerethelesse that these things doe belong
Of right to you, yet this I must you tell,
That though that you be nere so huge and strong,
(As truth to say you doe in force excell
All Nations, yet if you doe consider
The very cause wherfore you are come hither,
You must confesse and so it will be found,
That you in this your quarrell had no right,
Nor reason wherevpon you might it ground;
For sure, it is most euident to sight
Of euery man that beares an vpright hart,
That you herein did play a foolish part,
Without forecasting with advisednes
What cause you had to make this mortall warre:
For when as we by foolish hastines
Did come out of our countries so farre,
Into the Troian land our liues to venter
Against our foes; The quarrell we did enter,
At that same time into, as euerie one
Of vs well knows, was for the iniurie,
And to revenge the priuate cause alone
Of Menelaus; for who can it denie,
That th'ravishing of Helena his wife,
Was th'onely cause of all the warre and strife
Betweene vs and the Troyans which as now
We do maintaine with great hostilie,
And for the which we all haue made a vow
To sacke the towne of Troy, with ieopardie
Of life and goods, and for that cause haue left
Our Countries and our Cities, and bereft
Our children and our wiues of all delight
And ioy, & make them mourne in great distresse,
While we remaine here in the field to fight
Against our foes, in griefe and heauinesse,
Assailed and enclos'd on every side
With enemies, and nought but death abide.
For sith the time that this our warre began,
(Which onely of meere pride we do maintaine)
It hath vs cost the life of many a man
Of great and meane account, that now are slaine,
Who might haue liu'd at home in wealth & ioy,
If they had not come hither vnto Troy,
To loose their liues by their owne wilfulnesse,
Here in this place with great extreamitie.
And for my part I must in truth confesse,
That by the Troyans force and crueltie,
So much bloud I haue lost since we began
This warre, that it hath made me pale & wan.
And not long since I had a wound againe,
Which Hector with a Dart did giue to me
Vpon the thigh, that day that he was slaine,
Which put me to so great extremitie,
That it hath made me long in bed to lie
To heal't, and yet I doubt thereof to die,
Ift be not quickly cur'd; for tis yet greene,
And very sore, and puts me to great paine,
With many other wounds that yet are seene
Vpon me still, which make me oft complaine:
And truth to say, (if it considered were)
We should not buy Queene Helena so deare.
As for her t'hazard life and lim, and all
Our honors, and our worldly goods and fame,
The which vnto vs quickly may befall,
If we haue not regard vnto the same,
And in our minds consider not how much,
This doubtfull warre for Helen doth vs tuch.
For if that we our reckning rightly make,
And call to mind what alteration
Hath falne since we the same did vndertake,
And what destruction of our warlike Nation
Hath for her sake been made, & yet much more
Dishonor we are like to haue therefore,
And to incurre; for as it doth appeare,
Although we do still hold this siege so long,
In fine, if that we do continue heare,
It will to vs because of greater wrong:
And more and more redownd vnto our shame,
If order be not taken for the same.
Which may be, if that we on either side,
Together would agree with one consent,
That Helena, in Troy shall still abide,
And that King Menelaus would be content
To take another wife, and let her go,
That to him doth her selfe vnfaithfull shoe.
Which he by law and without blame mya take,
And be diuorst from Helena, sith she
So shamelesly in Greece did him forsake
For Paris, and commit adulterie
Thereby, with foule disgrace vnto her name,
And truth to say, to her perpetuall shame.
For many great examples extant be,
And through the world are to be heard & seene,
How that for filthie foule adulterie,
Great Princes from their wiues divorst haue beene.
And therefore it can be no preiudice,
If for that most accursed sinfull vice:
King Menelaus doth iustlie her forsake,
And of another wife doth make his choise,
The which of him much more account will make.
Whereto if that you all will giue your voice,
T'will for our good, be cause this warre to end,
Wherein our liues and blood we vainly spend.
And likely is, if it continue long,
To cost much more both of our liues and bloud,
For Troy is so invincible and strong,
And furnished with worthy Knights and good,
And in so great a number, that though wee
Should stay here still the vttermost to see,
We neuer should be able to attaine
To that we do pretend and so desire.
And therefore sith tis so, it were in vaine
For vs to stay, and proudly to aspire
With wilfulnes to that we cannot get:
But rather let's our minds on reason set,
And thinke more of our profit then our glorie,
And wisely in good time withdraw our power,
While honor graceth vs with victorie,
Sith we cannot make fortune (if she lower)
To stay her wheele which is so variable,
And therefore ere she waxeth mutable,
And doth begin on vs to change her cheere:
Let vs leaue off the warre and liue in peace,
And go our way, and stay no longer heere.
For better tis from bloodie warre to cease,
While we may doo't, & so our honor saue,
For of the warre th'advantage yet we haue.
For all men know that by our valor great,
Our principallest foe Prince Hector's slaine,
My counsell therefore is we should not let
Th'advantage goe, while we do still retaine
Our honor, and ere fortune gins to lower,
And seekes to crosse vs by her mighty power,
With one consent and sole opinion
Of heart and mind, we should no more soiourne
Hold at this siege, but let vs euery one,
With speed into our natiue Land returne:
For if that we our quarrell still maintaine,
Which now so long hath held, I tell you plaine,
I am in doubt great detriment will be
Our shares at last. Wherefore I thinke it best
Our follie to reiect, and ere we see
Worse happen vnto vs, set vp our rest
To leaue the warre, while as tis knowne to all,
We are in fame and honor peregall
With them of Troy, and them surpasse if we
Our state he hold in his assention,
And while that it is in the highst degree.
But least some men should make obiection,
And say, that we cannot our honor saue,
If we returne to Greece, and cannot haue
Our wills to beare faire Helen backe againe
Into our natiue land, for whome so many
Of vs haue in this cruell warre been slaine:
I say, if that amongst vs there be any,
That thinks and is perswaded in his mind
If we go hence, and leaue her here behind,
It will to our most great dishonour bee:
I say, that it to vs can be no shame,
(If that into the depth there of we see)
Sith we haue one for honor and for fame
As great as she, and by her birth as good,
For she descends of high and royall blood.
As all you know the Princesse Exion
King Priams sister, who against their will,
In Greece is holden by King Thelamon,
As Helen is by Paris gainst our will:
And therefore sith it now can be no other,
My counsell is to set th'one gainst the other.
And all the wrath and envie that doth rest,
Betweene vs and the Troyans to appease,
The which I thinke and know would be the best
For vs and them, and for our good and ease:
Which otherwise (said he) will never end,
If you vnto my counsell will not bend.
To whome with extreame wrath King Menelaus,
Who with Achilles words did seeme most tucht,
And Thoas also, and Duke Menestes,
Who likewise at his insolency grucht:
All with one voyce vnto Achilles spake,
And into mightie choller gainst him brake.
And with them all the rest impatientlie,
The Court perturb'd, and did begin to fall
Into great words much vnadvisedlie
Against Achilles, and at last said all,
They would not to his counsell then consent,
Nor to make peace in any wise were bent.
Wherewith Achilles full of wrath and ire,
The which did seeme to burne within his heart,
To see they would not grant to his desire,
Did sodenlie vpon his feet vp start:
And in a furie great did go away,
And said he would no longer mongst them stay:
Nor aid nor succor them in any wise,
(What need so euer they of him should haue)
To fight against their Troyan enemies,
And to his men a speciall charge he gaue,
To see they did not aid the Grecians
In any wise against the Troyans,
When so euer they to battaile forth should go.
In which his resolution firmely standing,
He did a while himselfe so constant show,
That while gainst them in that sort he was banding,
The Grecians many overthrows receau'd,
And thousands of them were of life bereau'd.
And while this controversie thus remaind,
The Grecian host great want of victuals had,
Whereby as then much hunger they sustaind,
For which mongst them great muttring there was
For at that time they were so much distrest (made:
For want of food, that they were sore opprest.
Till that their Generall Palamedes,
To remedie the same a Court did call
Of all the Princes in the host, t'appease
Their murmuring, and by consent of all
That then assembled were, did order take,
A fleet of ships in readinesse to make.
Whereof the King Agamemnon should be
Commander, and with speed with them should saile
To Messa for some victuals, if that he
In that same Isle of so much could prevaile,
As need requird for their necessitie,
To put them out of that extremitie.
Who being there arriu'd, such favor had
Of Thelaphus the King that therein raign'd,
That he not onlie ready was and glad
To aid the Greeks therein, but straight obtaind
Commission presently, and with all speed
Of him to take as much as they should need
Of euery kind of victuals in that jsle,
Commanding all his subiects to fulfill
The same with speed, and so in little while,
According to his pleasure and his will,
They made so great prouision of each thing
That seru'd for food, that presently the King
Did fraught and fill their ships with mighty store
Of victuals, that so much as then they had,
That in them they could put nor lade no more.
Whereof King Agamemnon being glad,
He tooke his leaue of Thelaphus, and so
With all his ships full laden forth did go,
And put to sea, and so with wind and weather,
Soone did arriue before the Troyan coast,
Where safely landing all his ships together,
He presently relieu'd the Grecian hoast
With victuals, who thereof had then great need,
And thankt him that he broght it with such speed.
The Grecian host relieu'd as you haue heard,
Palamedes went to their ships to see,
If they had any need to be repair'd,
And what so euer requisite to bee
Bestowd on them was found, he did with care
Cause to be done. And likewise did not spare,
Of every thing what so ever it did cost,
To see prouision made, and to supply
All things that needfull were within the host,
The which he did performe most carefully,
While time of truce endur'd & was out-run,
And that their bloudy warre againe begun,
Which many on each side most dearely bought.
Whereof to write at large is my pretence,
And shew how they together fiercely sought,
Each th'other to destroy in their defence,
And still continued in their deadly hate,
The which they held between the without date.
Vnto the great destruction and decay
Of many valiant knights while it did last,
For as they were accustomed next day
Ensuing, after that the truce was past:
In warlike wise well arm'd with speare & shield,
They entered againe into the field.
Where with their banners wavering in great pride,
And drums and trumpets sounding fearefully,
They met together brauely on each side,
And at the first encounter valiantly,
Deiphobus like a Lyon furious,
Met with a Grecian King cald Creseus.
And with his strong & puissant speare in rest,
Ran at him with so great and mighty force,
That he did pierce him deepe into the brest,
Wherewith starke dead he fell off from his horse:
Whose death so much the Greeks did terrifie,
That sore amaz'd they did begin to flie
Vnto their tents, as fast as ere they could
To saue themselues, with mighty feare and dread,
The which when as the Troyans did behold,
They chased them till that King Diomede,
And with him also King Palamodes,
With most despightfull hearts, and merciles,
With twenty thousand knights accompanied,
Vpon the Troyans sodainly did set,
And where the Grecians then before them fled,
They did so fiercely kill, cast downe, and beat
The Troyans, that their furious [...] vs to shun,
Then made them fore the Greeks as fast to run.
And at that time came Thelamon Aiax in,
Conducting of another Grecian band,
At whose approach such slaughter did begin,
On Troyans side by his victorious hand:
That many of them then were fiercely kild,
And all the plaine with Troyans blood was fild.
And as he thus in furious wise did set
On them, and like a Lyon fierce for pray
Did range about the field, by chance he met
The worthy knight Sicilian in his way,
(A bastard Son of [...]) whome he
Assailed with such extreame crueltie,
That with his sword he cut his arme in twaine,
And he therewith fell dead within the field.
Whome when Deiphobus saw so fiercely slaine
By Thelamon, and his dead corps beheld:
With speare in hand he smote so great a stroke
At Thelmon, that his Launce on him he broke.
And yet did hit him with so great a might,
That with the trunchion which did whole remaine,
He did him cleane out of his sadle smight,
And laid him all along vpon the plaine:
Which stroke when King Pallamides beheld,
And saw how he vnto the ground was feld,
He was therewith so vexed at the heart,
That to revenge King Thelamon he sware
On Deiphobus, and ere he thence did part,
With mighty speare which in his hand he bare,
He ran and smote Deiphobus such a stroke,
That therewithall he pierst his brest, & broke
The speare within the same, and therein left
The trunchion and the head still sticking fast,
Wherewith he was of vitall breath bereft,
But ere the same out of his body past,
Which long within his breast could not abide,
It was his brother Paris chance to ride
That way, where he lay in a manner dead,
Whome when he did behold in such a case,
He was therewith so much astonished,
That he did looke with pale and deadly face:
And for him grieu'd and wept most bitterly,
And bad his knights conuay him speedily
Out of the field and prease wherein he lay,
Aside into a place to take the aire,
Who presently did beare him thence away
Vpon a shield, with easie pace and faire:
And with great griefe & sorrow laid him downe
Hard by the wall, close vnderneath the towne.
Where when he had a little while still laine,
With heauie cheare he lifted vp his eies,
And being in extreamity of paine,
Vnto his brother Paris softlie cries:
And said, good brother let me one thing craue
Of thee, that thou wilt pittie on me haue,
And kindly, and for lone and brother hood,
Remember what to thee I now shall say,
Sith that thou canst do mono other good,
Because I must depart from thee away:
Thou seest what woefull case I here lie in,
For Atropos will now no longer spin
My thread of life, nor favor to me shoe.
Good brother let me craue so much of thee,
Before that I out of the world hence goe,
That by thy meanes I may revenged bee,
Of him that hath bereau'd me of my breath,
And in this sort hath giuen me my death.
That I may be assur'd before I die
That he is slaine, and first gone downe to hell,
And in that soule in [...]ernall lake doth lie
With P [...]to, there eternally to dwell,
Amongst the damned soules in griefe & woe,
The which whē my poore dying hart shal kno [...],
I shall depart contentedlie and glad
Out of this world, and will esteem't a blisse
To me, that he his death before me had,
And that with me thereof he did not misse:
Wherein I pray thee do me not denie,
And then pull out this speare and let me die.
Which his desire t'accomplish Paris went,
With speed into the field (in mightie griefe
Sore weeping) to revenge with full intent
His brother, who meane time without reliefe
Lay languishing and drawing on to death,
Expecting everie hower to yeeld his breath.
And seeking vp and downe, he came whereas
Pallamides was fighting hand to hand
With Sarpedon, (a valiant King, that was
Come vnto Troy to Priam with a band
Of valiant Knights to aid him gainst his foes)
And while that they together fiercely close,
And each the other furiously did smight,
(For Sarpedon was valorous and strong,
And shewd himselfe to be a puissant knight)
Pallamides (when they had [...]ought so long,
That both of them were wearie) puissantly
Stroke Sarpedon a blow vpon the thigh,
And cut it cleane a sunder, wherewithall,
King Sarpedon not able to endure▪
Vpon his horse, dead on the ground did fall,
Whose death vnto the Troyans did procure
Such feare, that they were forced to retire,
For that with heart repleat with wrath & me,
Pallamides slew them so furiously,
That they durst not abide before his face.
Whose cruelty when Paris did espie,
And thought vpon his brothers woefull case:
He bent his bow that was exceeding strong,
And therein put an arrow sharpe and long,
Which had the head so strongly poysoned,
(That who so ere he chanst therewith to smight,
Was sure to die) and then he followed
Pallamides, and with exceeding might
Shot at him, and did giue him such awound
Into the throat, that he fell to the ground,
And died forthwith. Whose death mou'd such a cry
And feare amongst the Greeks, that (with great griefe
Complaining for his death most pittiously
Because he was their Generall and chiefe
Of all the hoast, and their espicall stay)
Like vnto sheepe that without sheapheard stray
Amased sore for want of one to guide
And gouerne them, they resolutely bent
Themselues to flie, and speedily did ride
Each man to saue himselfe within his tent.
Which when the Troyans saw, with mighty pace
They followed, and so hotely did them chase,
And slay and beat them downe so cruelly
(Receauing none to mercy nor to grace)
That all the plaine with dead Greeks full did lie,
And still continued fiercely in the chase:
Vntill the Grecks to shun their cruelty,
Constrained were of meere necessity,
To turne againe to fight, and to defend
Themselues a while, but t'would them not availe,
Because the Troyans did so fast descend,
And did them in such furious wise assaile:
That what resistance s'ever they then made,
They were so beaten downe and so dismaid,
That they could not against them make defence,
But were constraind to flie away in hast,
The Troyans did with so great violence,
Beat downe, pursue, and follow them so fast
Along the plaine, and not contented so,
In furious wise vnto their tents did go.
And therein fiercely kild and beat them downe,
And all their gold and treasure that they found,
They tooke and carried it into the towne,
And overthrew their tents vnto the ground▪
And after that fierce Troyelus did ride
With Paris downe vnto the water side:
Who as they went slew all that with them met,
Or scattering here and there they could espie,
And there the Grecians ships on fire set,
The flame whereof ascended vp so hie
Into the aire, that they that were in Troy
Might see't, for which they made no little ioy.
And at that time had burnt them all, if then
King Thelamon Aiax had not speedilie
Run to the ships with many thousand men,
To stay their furious course, and valiantly
Withstood them like a braue and worthy knight.
And then began a new and cruell fight,
Betweene the Greeks and Troyans in such wise,
That many valiant knights as then were slaine,
And yeelded vp their ghosts with wofull cries,
And all the field about, and all the plaine
Was fild with dead and maimed men that lay,
All [...]ack [...] and hewd on euery side the way.
The which so sore and cruelly did bleed,
That all the grasse and ground was dyed red (shead,
With blood which they out of their wounds did
And still the cruell fight continued
Amongst them, to decide their deadly hate,
Which they with blows betwixt thē did debate.
And like to Bores and Tygars fell did fare,
Each tearing and sore mangling others flesh,
And to beat downe their enmies did not spare,
As thicke as men do corne when they do thresh.
At which time worthy Thelamon did fight
So valiantly, and shewd such passing might,
The Grecians by his prowesse to deliuer
From Troyans hands, that no man could do more,
And by maine force so furiously did seuer
Their troops, that all before him downe he bore:
And shewd himselfe so valorous and stout,
That had't not beene for him without all doubt,
Their ships had all been spoiled vtterly
By Paris and yong Troyelus, who there
So fiercely fought, and did so furiously
Aslaile them & assault them, that there were
Full fifty ships cleane burned and destroyd,
Before the Greeks could any way avoyd
Their furious force, or Thelmon Aiax came,
To rescue all the rest that did remaine.
And yet although by force he did the same,
There were so many Greeks at that time slaine:
That Troyans had the honor of that fight,
And onlie by the valor and the might
Of Troyelus, who for his part did slay
So many Greeks, that they compelled were
To make retreat, and fast to run away
Out of the field in mighty dread and feare:
For't was no boot for them to stay, when as
They saw they were brought vnto such a passe.
Amongst the which Prince Heber Sonne vnto
The King of mighty Thracian land, was one
Who moou'd with indignation therevnto,
(And wounded so that hope of life was none
In him as then, for in his brest their stacke
The trunchion of a mightie speare that brake
Within the same) went to Achilles tent,
Where he had laine, and came not out that day,
(For loue of Pollicene) for his intent
Was not to aid the Grecians any way,
Because they would not grant to his desire,
And him reproacht (with extreme wrath & ire)
Of faintnesse, and of verie cowardise,
That he that day to his no little shame,
Had not come forth, nor would in any wise
Giue aid vnto the Greeks, whereby his fame
(He said) would befor euer blemished,
Especially when he was certified,
Into what mischiefe and confusion
They were redust, and at the verie brinke
And mouth of extreame desolation,
And he thereat did seeme as't were to winke:
And nere made shew for them at all to grieue,
Nor would of knighthood them therin relieue.
And while he thus vnto Achilles spake,
And him so sharpely did reproue therefore,
They did out of his brest the trunchion take,
Which (as I say) broken in the same he bore:
And therewithall he turned vp the white
Of both his eies, and in Achilles sight
Fell downe and died. At which time sodenlie,
One of his Knights into his tent did come,
Of whome he did enquire earnestly
What that day of the Grecians was become,
And how the case at that time with them stood.
Who answered him with sad and angry mood,
And said, in sooth my Lord vnhappilie,
For Greeks, alas, haue had the worst in fight,
And by the Troyans haue most cruelly,
And to their shame been put vnto the flight:
And such a number slaine and spoild this day,
That few or none of them could scape away,
Vnmaymed, or without some deadlie wound,
The Troyans vs so cruelly pursu'd,
Who as I thinke (if truth thereof were found)
Were in the field so great a multitude
This day, that I am of opinion,
That they left not a man within the towne
That able was to fight with speare or shield,
Or any other weapon what so ere,
But he came forth with them into the field,
Gainst vs, so great a multitude they were:
So that't was hard for vs to take in hand,
Against so huge a company to stand.
But now my Lord (said he) it waxeth night,
And they will shortly to the towne go backe,
For they are faint and wearied with the fight▪
Wherefore if that your armor you will take,
And valiantly go out and them assaile,
While they are in that case, you could not faile:
To your perpetuall honor and your fame,
But win a great and noble victorie
On them, and make the Grecians by the same,
For evermore ore them triumphantlie
To raigne, and while the world doth still endure,
To Troyans euerlasting shame procure.
But to his words Achilles tooke no heed,
Nor yet of Hebers bodie seemd to haue
The least respect, though't lay before him dead,
Nor in a manner leaue vnto them gaue
To speake their minds, for't was to him allone,
Whats'ere they said, for counsell he wold none.
But like a man that's deafe and dumbe he stood,
And made as though he did not heare at all,
And neuer seemd in countenance nor mood,
In any passion for the same to fall:
For in one eare no sooner entred't was,
But out againe at th'other it did passe.
Herein a man may see a louers state,
That wholly therevnto addicts his mind,
Who rather then he'le prooue vnfortunate,
And in his loue desireth ioy to find:
All honor, worship, manhood, valiantnes,
Strength, reputation, might, and hardines:
Encrease of vertue, fame, and victorie,
Knighthood, renowne, and every other blisse,
Glorie in armes, and all activitie
He will forsake, and count them none of his:
And as vaine toyes will lay them all aside,
When he in Cupids bands himselfe hath ti'd.
Such power Cupid hath on him to seaze,
When once his heart within his snares is cought,
That he is loath to anger or displease
In word or deed, in countenance or thought,
Her whome he doth esteeme his Lady deare,
For with a looke of her faire eies and cleare,
She onlie tis can daunt his pride of heart,
For Venus with her flattring tong can bind
His sences, thoughts, and euery other part
So strictly, that nought else in his mind
But his sweet loue, and so doth make him lie
In Cupids bands, restraind from libertie.
Which was the onlie cause without all doubt,
Why all that day Achilles was not seene
Abroad, nor t'aide the Grecians would go out
Into the field, for he fear'd Pollicene;
Least she should be offended▪ if he went
Into the field, and gainst the Troyans bent
His force, and so should seeme her enemie,
Whome he esteemd his deare and speciall friend.
And while he lay in this extreamitie,
And with conceits of her the time did spend;
The Grecians fought against them of the towne,
Till Phoebus with his Chariot went downe:
At which time all the Troyans did begin,
(Because they wanted light) to go their way
With speed to Troy, but ere they entred in,
Yong Troyelus and Paris made them stay:
While they tooke vp Deiphobus (whom they found
Complaining sore of his most deadly wound.)
And when they saw him in that pittious case,
They could not choose but weepe & sore lament,
And with salt teares bedew'd their eies and face,
And were so fild with griefe and discontent
Within their hearts, and did such sorrow make,
As if they would haue died for his sake.
And while that they in this sort by him stood,
He waxt so weake that he began to die,
For he had lost such quantity of blood,
That t'saue his life there was no remedy:
Yet while his valiant brethren did lament,
Because they saw his vitall breath was spent,
He lifted vp his eies, and when he heard
That Paris King Pallamides had slaine,
He seem'd therewith to be a little cheard,
And to release the sore and deadly paine,
He bad them draw his speare out of his wound,
Which done, he fell down dead vpon the ground▪
Whose body straight they bare in mournfull wise
Into the towne with great solemnity:
I need not shew what sorrow and what cries
For him was made, with much extreamity,
By all the men and women in the towne,
(As also for the death of Sarpedowne,)
And specially by old King Priamus,
Queene Hecuba, his sisters Pollicene,
Cassandra, and his brother Helenus,
With other of his worthy bretheren:
This shall suffice that vnto you I tell,
That't was most great as you may iudge full well.
And to be briefe, for him and Sarpedon,
King Priamus in hast two toombs did make
In sumptuous wise, of pollisht Marble stone,
And when that they were finisht, for their sake
He made a great and costly funerall,
Whereat the people all in generall
Were present, & did mourne & make great mone,
According to their old and ancient right.
And while that this within the towne was done,
The Grecians with all speed and hast they [...],
Did make a tombe for their most worthy [...]
Pallamides, and at his burying
Did vse such ancient customes as they had
Amongst them, and their sorrow to expresse,
Great griefe and extreame dolor for him made,
And in that sort brought him with heauinesse,
In royall wise vnto his sepulture,
And then because they might not long endure
Without a Prince to be their gouernor,
By full and free election of them all,
They made King Agamemnon (who before
Had held that place and rul'd them) Generall▪
And chiefe Commander of their hoast againe,
In stead of King Pallamides then slaine.
Which done, on either side without delay
The Troyans strongly arm'd did issue out
Of Troy, and went into the field next day
T'assaile the Greeks, who without feare or doubt,
In warlike wise, and face to face them met.
But Troyelus on them so fiercely set,
That by his valor great and mighty force,
The Greeks durst not abide before his face,
For he so many of them did vnhorse,
And did begin so ho [...]ely them to chase:
That where so ere he road the field about,
They fled from him, in mighty feare & doubt.
And with him were the Knights that he then led,
Yong, lusty, and well arm'd with speare & shield,
Who so much Grecian bloud that day did shed▪
That all the ground showd red within the field,
And streames of blood ran downe along the plaine.
At which time there did fall so great a raine,
And huge a mist that men could hardly see,
But most of all vpon the Grecians side,
By means whereof, and with th'extremitie
And smart of wounds which they did then abide:
And through the valiant prowe [...]e and the might
Of Troyelus, the strong and hardie Knight,
They were constraind to shun his crueltie,
And to avoyd the storme which then did rise,
To saue their liues, in mightie feare to flie,
And to giue place vnto their enemies,
Ran to their tents, some succor there to find,
The Troyans them pursuing fast behind
In cruell wise, and with exceeding pace.
But for because the storme did still encrease,
At that time they no longer held the chase,
But both from it and fighting did surcease,
And entred into Troy; and there did stay
Till morning, when the Larke did sing next day.
That Troyelus betimes did issue out,
Determining the Greeks againe t'assaile,
Where in the field as he did ride about
Among his foes, he did so much preuaile
Gainst them, that who so euer he did smight
With his strōg sword, was maim'd or kild ou [...] right.
And in that furious manner still did hold▪
His enemies in chase and beat them downe,
All that day with couragious heart and bold,
And brought them vnto great confusion:
So long till that the Sun withdrew his light,
And euening when it waxed toward night,
That he returnd to Troy victoriously,
And seven daies ensuing without rest,
He did assaile the Greeks so cruelly,
And in such furious manner them opprest:
That they could not his puissant force sustaine,
But forced were to flie out of the plaine,
T'avoyd the strong and mighty blows which he
Amongst them dealt, for where so ere he past,
He put them to so great extreamitie,
That they shrunke backe and were in heart abasht,
To see the field all dy'd and coloured red
With bloud of Greeks that on the plaine lay dead.
And were that day oppressed in such wise,
That next day after they did all agree,
Betimes assoone as ere the Sun did rise,
To fend a messenger to Troy, to see
If Priamus vnto a truce would yeeld
For two months space, wherwith king Priam held
A counsell of his Lords to that intent.
And by consent of them he did agree
Vnto the Greeks desire, and was content
That peace for two months time should holden be
Which done, the Greeks out of the towne straight (went,
And comming vnto [...] tent,
Declared vnto him what was decreed
By Priamus concerning his desire.
And after that their Generall with speed,
Sent messengers to pray and to require
Achilles, (who was obstinately be [...]t,
And resolutely held in his intent:
Not to relieue nor aid the Grecians
In any wise what need so ere they had,
Against their mortall foes the Troyans,
According to the vow he then had made)
To mollifie his anger, and t'agree,
With them t'assaile their Troyan enemie
As he had done before, the which to doe
Ulisses, Diomede, and Nestor were
Appointed to perswade him therevnto,
That they might not such losse & damage beare
As daily they endur'd, and specially
Because he did to them his aid deny,
And would not with them in the field appeare.
Whome when Achilles saw he did receaue
And welcome them with ioy full heart and cheare.
And when they had of him desired leaue
To speake their minds according to their charge:
Ulisses their Commission to discharge,
An eloquent discourse vnto him made,
And following his first instruction,
In this sort did begin him to perswade:
And said, my Lord Achilles whose renowne,
Exceeding might, and glory passing great,
For memory perpetually is set
Within the Booke and register of fame:
And who (the truth to say) doth certainlie
At this time well deserue to beare the name
Of all that vnderneath the christ all skie
Do liue and breath, for knighthood to excell.
Be not displeas'd (I pray you) that I tell
My mind to you, nor be it none offence
At all vnto your honor, that I say,
For this is sure, it is my full pretence,
To tell the truth as neere as ere I may:
As well your Lordship shall perceiue and see,
If you but marke what shall be said by me.
You know full well if you to mind will call,
The chiefest cause and reason, why that we
With all the Grecian Princes (which excell
For puissant strength and power) that now be
Assembled here, whereof your selfe was one
Of those that first did make the motion,)
Was by a full consent and will t'invade,
Besige, and to destroie the puissant towne
Of Troy, and when that we performed had
Our wills therein, to raise and cast it downe
Vnto the ground, to our e'relasting fame.
But now (my Lord) you varrie from the same,
And so denlie haue altered your mind,
And to that end do vtterlie denie
To aid vs in our warre, the which we find
To be exceeding strange, especiallie
When you should thinke vpon the mightie wrong
Done vnto vs in Greece, and that not long
Nor many yeares agoe by Troyans,
That sent a mightie force out of their towne,
And therewith slew and kild the Grecians,
And entring into Cithera, beat downe
Our Castles and our houses, and did beare
Our treasure thence, and not contented were
With all that spoile, but to our great despight,
Did ravish faire Queene Helena, and made
Her go with them, and hold her still by might,
And would not once confesse the wrong they had
Then done, and now still vnto vs procure,
But in the same do obstinate endure.
And since our being here in siege, haue wrought
So much and so great hurt and iniurie
To vs, by burning of our ships, and brought
So many Greeks vnto their ends, that we
Cannot but muse at your great carelesnes,
That will not now (when they as we confesse,
By your exceeding might and valor great,
Are brought vnto most hard extreamitie,
S [...]th you haue Hector slaine, in whome they set
Their speciall trust and chiefe securitie:
And he who onlie did their towne sustaine.
And sith Deiphobus likewise now is slaine,
And they by likelihood continuallie,
And day by day to fall into despaire,
Now fortune on them casts a lowring eie,
And vnto vs doth shew a countnance faire:
Even now I say, when you are so renownd,
And that your praise by trump of fame doth sound
Through euerie Land and Nation far & neare.)
Take time while it doth serue t'extoll your praise,
And by dame Fortunes aid which doth you beare
So great good will to worke by all assaies,
To bring your long desired wish t'effect.
For't were great wrong in you so to neglect
Dame Fortune, when to you she is so kind,
And obstinately to refuse her aid,
When you do her so friendly to you find,
And so extols your fame (as I haue said)
That she puts victorie into your hand,
And vnexpectedly your foes withstand,
So that you need no helpe of her to craue.
Why then should you so wilfullie let fall
The noble fame which at this time you haue,
And suffer that men should't in question call,
When as it is now in the highst degree?
Me thinks you should much better thereto see,
And haue a greater care the same to keepe.
For euerie knight that is of valiant mind
Would grieue thereat, & with great sighs & deepe,
Lament to see you proue so much vnkind
Vnto your selfe, as to abase your state,
When fame doth it so highlie eleuate.
Wherefore we you desire heartilie,
To haue remorse of conscience in your mind,
And that you would vnto vs not denie
Your aid, but let vs so much favor find
At your hands, to helpe vs in our need,
T'effect the thing which we haue all decreed,
To bring to passe ere we leaue off the same.
That your renowne may still be magnified
Throughout the world, to your perpetuall fame,
And still encrease and be reedified:
And that the trivmph of our victorie,
May evermore be had in memorie,
And so recorded that forgetfulnesse,
May not your fame & valor greatt deface,
Nor power haue by malice to suppresse
The same, which now doth shine in euerie place,
Without ecclipse, as we must needs confesse,
Which to preserue you seeme with carelesnesse.
Not to respect, and to obscure the light
Of your renowne, which euer was so cleare,
And through the world did shine exceeding bright,
In field to fight with vs you do forbeare.
Remember how the Grecians haue been slaine
Before your tent, and also in the plaine
In cruell wise, and euery place throughout
The field, and you no pittie on them take.
Why should you then refuse, and be so stout
Without a cause them whollie to forsake?
Who vntill now haue been their Champion,
Their chiefest helpe, and their protection.
And for their sakes haue osten shedyour blood
Against their foes, when they with thē haue fought,
And by your aid not onely them withstood,
But their confusion valiantlie [...]aue wrought,
And mightilie their enemies did assaile.
Without whose aid they may not long prevaile
Against their foes, no more may any one
Of vs, how stout and strong so ere we bee,
For tis you onlie that can do't alone,
If that you will vouchsafe with vs t'agree
To fight against the Troyans, and thereto
Lend vs your aid as you were woont to do:
And as we doubt not but you'le grant the same,
To succour vs in our necessity,
N [...] [...] for your owne perpetuall fame,
But to redeeme vs from extreamitie:
And to that end we come to you as now,
To craue of you your mind herein to show.
Whereto Achilles presentlie began
(Assoone as ere Ulisses ended had
His tale) to speake, with visage pale and wan
For ang [...], and in this sort answere made:
Ulisses, if so be our meaning were
As you to me at this time do declare,
Of purpose, and with one entire consent,
The famous towne of Troy to overthrow,
And vtterlie to spoile't, and that we bent
Our minds thereto, and thereby meant to show
Our power and might, I must you plainly tell,
That we of truth therein haue not done well,
To put cur selues by indiscretion,
So carelesly without advisednes,
Into so dangerous an action,
To hazard the estate and happines,
With liues and goods of all the Chivalry
Of Greece, that put the same in ieopardy,
For little cause or none, the truth to tell.
For hath [...]ot many a worthie King and Knight,
(Who both in fame and honor did excell)
Consum'd his wealth and lost his life in fight
Here in this siege, that might haue liu'd in peace
And honor still, if he had staid in Greace?
For hath not King Pallamides been slaine
But now of late, whose life was of more worth,
Then all the cause for which we here remaine
And hold this dangerous siege, to tell the troth?
And many other Knights and Princes great,
That on both sides are here together met,
To shew their puissant valor and their might,
And to attaine to honor and to fame,
Haue lost their liues vnhappily in fight,
And many more are like to do the same,
If that long time this cruell warre doth last▪
For euery day the number lesneth fast,
Both on the Greeks and Troyans side likewise.
So that, if this most cruell rage and mood,
Continue long, and in such furious wise,
If that it be not otherwise withstood:
It's likely that it will such hauocke make
Of Princely bloud, that clownes will vndertake
To rule and gouerne here vpon the earth,
And of the same haue sole dominion,
And such as are of no degree nor birth,
Will Lords become when Princes there are none:
For is not Hector that most valiant Knight,
That was the onlie mirror and the light
Of Chivalrie, vnfortunatelie slaine
In this same warre, and so may I likewise
Perchance be kild, that neuer shall attaine
To Hectors worth, while light is in mine e [...]es:
For there's no way deaths furious dart to shun,
If we vpon the point thereof will run,
And seeke it of our selues while we are here.
And therefore such a motion now to make,
Concerning this our warre, as you require,
Is but in vaine, for I do meane to take
Another course, and in this bloudy strife,
No more to stand in hazard of my life.
For I had rather to impaire my name,
Then wilfully to die or to be slaine,
Thereby to be eternized by fame,
For honor after death is but a vaine
And needlesse thing, and soone is set aside:
For though that fame be spred both far & wide,
Obliuion and forgetfulnes may soone
Impaire't by tract of times, & length of daies,
And make thereof a wrong conclusion:
For that the fame of Knighthood, and the praise
Of honor, wisedome, and of worthines,
Of freedome, bounty, and of gentlenes,
Of vertue, and of euery other grace
Wherewith a man is in this world endowd,
Forgetfulnesse can darken and deface,
And in oblivions mantle doth them shrowd:
And with a false report maliciously,
Doth crop the Palm [...] of worthy Chivalrie.
And therefore for my part I do intend
Such folly now to leaue, and henceforth liue
In peace, and all mine actions thereto bend:
And for that cause this counsell to you giue,
To make a peace with Troyans if you may,
And therein do no longer time delay,
Before that further mischiefe doth arise,
And cruell death should chance to be your share.
And therefore good my Lords if you be wise,
Of this my counsell see you take some care:
This is (said he) my purpose and intent,
Which you may show to him that hath you sent.
With which his resolute conclusion,
Ulisses, Diomede, and Nestor went
Vnto their Generall Agamemnon,
And vnto him declared the intent
And answere of Achilles which he made
To them, as I before vnto you said.
And there vpon he presently did call
The Princes of the Greeks vnto his tent,
And when they were assembled, to them all
Did show whereto Achilles mind was bent:
And that he was desirous of a peace
With them of Troy, that all their warre might cease.
Refusing flatlie t'enter in the field
With them against the Troyans any more,
And for that cause a counsell with them held,
To know of them what will thereto they bore:
And what therein they did intend to do,
Sith that the case with them as then stood so.
Whereto the first of them that did reply,
Was Menelaus, who with an angry mood
Began to chafe, and flatlie did denie
To make a peace, and therein boldlie stood,
And said, that it was never his intent,
By any meanes thereto to giue consent,
Sith that the towne of Troy was in such need,
And at the brinke of their destruction,
Now Hector and Deiphobus both were dead,
That whilome were their sole protection:
So that they might all comfort cleane reiect,
And nothing else but cruell death expect.
And therefore flatlie said without all feare,
Though that Achilles will vs helpe no more.
The burthen of our enterprise to beare,
We need not any whit to doubt therefore,
But that without him we shall overthrow
Our enmies by our force, as well I know.
Whereto Ulisses speedilie repli'd,
And Nestor, both of one opinion,
And gainst his false assertion iustifi'd,
That touching peace whereof the motion
As then was made, it was no maruaile why,
King Menelaus did it so much denie.
And to the same by no meanes would giue eare.
Sith that he was the ground of all their warre,
And that he and Queene Helena both were
The cause that made the Greeks to come so farre
Out of their natiue Countrie, there to lose
Their liues & goods amongst their deadly foes.
And therefore said, he cared not what paine
Nor losse the Greeks endur'd, so that he might
Recouer his Queene Helena againe.
And where he saith the strong and valiant knight
Hector is dead, his heire as yet doth liue
For knighthood, who in manner doth reviue
And raise him vp, which is his yonger brother
Prince Troyelus, whome we may rightlie call
Yong Hector, for there is not such another
In all the world, for he's as't were the wall
And sole defence of Troy now Hector's gone,
Which is well seene vnto vs euery one.
(If we the truth thereof acknowledged.)
Whose trechant blade in his most furious heat,
Doth oft and euerie hower make vs bleed
Within the field, when he with vs doth meet.
And in the stead of worthie Deiphobus,
That was a puissant knight and valorous,
His valiant brother Paris yet doth liue,
That's vnto him for knighthood peregall,
Who also doth Troy mightilie relieue,
Whereby of them advantage none at all
We haue as yet, so that since we begun
This warre, in truth there is but little woone
By vs, but we are likelier to loose
Yet more and more, if we it still [...] hold,
And therefore sith that we ha [...]e power to choose,
My counsell is, twere good if that we would
T'agree with them of Troy, and seeke for peace,
And let vs from this bloudie warre surcease.
Ulisses hauing spoken in this wise,
The Troyan traitor Calohas vexed sore
To heare the same, vpon his feet did rise,
And forthe hatred which to Troy he bore,
Said, worthy Kings and Princes euery one,
Why should you change & varie like the Moone,
From that your first and resolute intent,
Which was by you so fully greed vnto,
Against the will and the commandement
O [...] all the Gods, that power haue to do
What ere they list, and rule and governe all
The actions of man-kind, both great & small?
Why should you not vnto them credite giue,
Whose hests and doings are infallible?
For this you must all constantly belieue,
That tis most true and not impossible,
That Troy by their preordinance and will,
Shall be destroyd within a little while,
If you do not neglect and slacke the same,
Whereby great honor, praise, and victory
Reserued is for you by Lady Fame,
And will be euer had in memory:
If you with courage bold pursue your foes,
And do not your good fortune fondly lose.
The which I dare affirme and boldly say,
And further must you tell, that wilfully
To dallie with the Gods, is th'onlie way
To make them change their purpose speedilie:
Wherefore my counsell is, that vnitie
Should be maintaind, and all amb'guitie,
Dispaire and dread, or any kind of doubt,
Forecasting perill, sloath, or cowardise
Cleane laid aside, you should with hearts most stout
And valiant courage, vtterlie despise
All feare of death, and once againe resume,
Your force with resolution to consume
And spoile your foes: for feare makes men to faint,
And leaue the enterprise they take in hand,
And doth mens minds with cowardise attaint,
And make them that they dare not thereto stand:
That as the Gods ordaind haue by decree
And providence divine, that you should bee
Victorious ore your enemies in th'end,
(If you with valiant hearts thereto aspire)
You may attaine to that you do pretend,
And so you shall fulfill the Gods desire:
Which speech when Calchas with smooth words & (faire
Had spoken, and thereby put all despaire
Out of the Grecians hearts, they did protest
And vow, that feare and danger laid aside,
They would fulfill his counsell, and nere rest
(Though that Achilles flatly them denide
His aid therein) till that they had orethrowne
The Troyans, as hereafter shall be showne.
The two months truce aforesaid finished,
The Grecians did prepare themselues to fight
Against their foes, and brauely entered
Into the field, gainst whome in great despight
The Troyan Knights with hearts couragious
Did issue forth. At which time Troyelus
Such valor shewd, that with his trenchant blade,
He kild and wounded them so furiouslie,
That in short space to flie he had them made.
For that day, in his extreame crueltie,
He vowed for his brother Hectors sake,
Vpon the Grecians full revenge to take.
And (as tis said) that worthie Champion,
By his exceeding valor and his might,
Did slay a thousand Knights himselfe alone,
And put the Grecians valiantlie to flight
All that day long, till Phoebus did descend,
At which time he of fighting made an end,
And entred into Troy, whereas he rested
Till next day that the Grecians (who t'revenge
Their losse vpon the Troyans, had protested)
Did orderly their wings and squadrons renge
(Assoone as Phoebus rose) within the plaine,
With whome the Troyans fiercelie met againe,
Where each the other valiantlie assaild.
At which time fierce King Diomede did fight
So cruellie, and then so much preuaild
Against his foes, that by his passing might,
Great store of Troyans lost their liues and died,
Till Troyelus his crueltie espied.
At whome with speed he ran a mightie pace,
And with his strong and puissant speare in rest,
Encountred with him brauely face to face,
And gaue to him a blow vpon the brest,
So mightilie, and with such passing force,
That with the same he smote him off his horse▪
And bruis'd him sore. To whom in spightfull wise,
As he vpon the ground did lie, he spake,
And told him of his loue and treacheries,
Which he gainst him had wrought for Cresids sake:
At which time when the Grecians did espie
King Diomede vpon the ground to lie,
Amongst the horses feet in great distresse,
They did with all the hast and speed they might,
To saue him from stout Troielus furiousnes,
Take him vp from the ground, and in despight
Of all his foes, sore brused and dismaid,
Bare him from thence and in his tent him laid.
Whom to reuenge, King Menelaus did set
His speare in rest, and furiously did ride
To Troielus, but ere with him he met,
Fierce Troielus that his comming would not bide,
Prevented him, with such a furious blow,
That to the ground he did him ouerthrow,
And gaue him therewith all a cruell wound
Within his brest, that he was like to die:
But when his Knights saw him vpon the ground,
They▪ layd him on a shield, and speedily
Bare him out of the presse into his tent,
At which time while away with him they went.
The Greeks were sore oppressed, slaine, and chast
Throughout the field by Troilus passing might,
Who then most fiercely them pursued fast,
That they were forst to take themselues to flight.
Vntill such time as King Agamemnon
With many Grecian Knights came riding down
Into the field, (whose ensignes glistring
Against the Sun, made such a gallant sight
As they within the ayre hung wauering,
That to behold them t'was a great delight.)
Who in most furious wise the Troians chast,
Kild, wounded, and did beat them downe so fast.
And at that time most like a valiant Knight,
Behau'd himselfe so brauely and so well,
That by his valor grea [...] and puissant might,
To flie from him he did them then compell:
But while that he in that most furious mood,
Amongst the thick est of the Troians road;
Prince Troielus ran at him with a speare,
And in the face of all his enemies,
Out of his sadle to the ground him bare▪
Wherewith the Greeks with huge and mighty [...]ies,
(To see their puisant Lord and Generall,
In midst of them receiue so great a fall,)
Ran to him, and by maine and mighty force
Relieued him, and made him mount againe,
(Despight of all the Troians,) on his horse.
At which time many a gallant Knight was slaine,
And furiously on either side vnhorst,
But yet the Grecian Knights at last were forst,
(For all the great [...] that they made,)
By Troielus, (whose sword they durst [...]or bide,)
To leaue the plaine and bloody fight▪ and glad
To make retrait, withdrew themselues aside.
For when as King Agamemnon perceiu'd
How that his men were or there liues bereau'd
So furiously, that they could notwithstand
The Troians blowes, he did suppose it best
For him to make retrait, and out of hand
To leaue the field, and for that time to rest,
And to that end did giue commandement,
To euery man t'retire vnto h [...]te [...].
And after that ere Ph [...]bus did appeare,
Next day, he sent to Priam to require
A truce for six moneths space, i [...] that he were
Content therewith, who graunted his desire.
Although that some therein with him did stritie
And grueth therat, and would not graunt to giue
Such respit to the Greeks, but t'was no boot
For them to striue, when Priamus had past
His word and faith vnto the Greeks to do't.
In which time while the truce twixt them did last,
Faire Gr [...]sula loth so long time to tarry,
(Although her Father was therein contrary.)
From vili [...]ing her friend, and t'haue a sight
Of Diomede, (who [...]a [...] receiu'd a wound
Not long before,) that was her louing Knight,
Went to his tent whereas when The him found
She sat downe on the bed side where he lay,
And while that she therein his tent did slay,
She did consider with her selfe, and thought
That t'was in vaine for her so long t'endure
Without a loue, and that t'availd her nought
For Troielus to stay, and to be sure
Of store, for that men say it is no sore,
She thought she would delay the time no more.
But presently with gentle heart and kind,
She promist loue vnto King Diomede,
To shew what pietie is in women kind,
And how that they b'extremitres are led,
T'expulse old loue, and new to entertaine,
Before that men should sue to them in vaine,
Or suffer griefe and sorrow for their sake.
The exchange is not so ready in Lombard street,
Where Marchants do contracts and bargains make
For Duckects and for Crownes when as they meet.
Each kind of gold and coynes to them's all one,
So that it haue a face or stamp thereon.
Their letters of exchange pa [...]se currantly,
And commonly are payd vpon the sight,
The passage boate is ready, and doth lie
T'attend all commers both by day and night:
No man's refusde that will desire grace,
Danger ther's none but in dissembling face.
The Sea is caline, and cleare from Rocks and sands,
T'was neuer heard that man was ere said nay,
That crau'd or asked mercy at their hands,
As you may plainely see by Cresida,
Who at that time gaue Diomede her hart,
To ease, and to release him of his smart.
Desiring him to be of ioyfull cheare;
And promised t'obay him faithfully
In euery thing, as to her Knight most deare,
Before that he for loue of her should die,
Esteeming't better to want constantnes,
Then to be held and counted pittiles.
As women are by nature very loath,
T'adict their minds t▪reuenge, or crueltie,
Gainst any man for breach of faith or oath,
But rather seeme to show humilitie,
And mercie vnto those that want reliefe,
And haue their minds possest with woe & griefe.
Thus much for her, and now I will proceed
According to the Historie to show:
That while the two moneths truce before decreed,
Was holden, King Agamenon did goe
Vnto Achilles tent, of him to craue
That of the Greeks he would compassion haue,
And not t'endure not suffer them to die,
And to be slaine and maimed euery hower
By them of Troy, who with great crueltie
Assayl'd the Greeks, and by their mighty power
Did put them to most great and hard distresse,
The which he sayd was likely to encrease,
Vnlesse he would vouchsafe his aid to lend
With speed, and it no more from them with-hold,
And by his mighty power and force defend
Them as before he did, with courage bold.
But t'was in vaine, for whatsoere he sayd,
Achilles would not yeild to him, to ayd
No [...] succour them, but with obdurate mind,
Still wished them to thinke vpon a peace,
And with all speed some way and meanes to find
That bloody and most tedious warre to cease.
But yet because he bare affection,
And much good will to King Agamemnon.
He would not altogether say them nay,
But partly to their willes did condiscend,
And sayd, though he within his tent would stay,
He was content his Myrmidons to send
In steed of him, into the field to ayd
Them gainst their foes. Wherwith full wel apaid,
Agamemnon and Nestor tooke their leaue,
And left him in a malancholly mood
Vpon his bed, where he did sigh and grieue
For Pollicene, in whom then wholy stood
His sole delight and comfort, yet in doubt
Nere to attaine to that he went about.
And so continued still. But as he had
Made promise when the truce was at an end,
He did appoint his Mirmidons to ayd
The Greeks to fight, and when he did them send
Into the field, he gaue a riban red
To each of them to were vpon his head,
That they might from the rest be knowne thereby,
And when they tooke their leaues and did depart
From him, he was in great perplexitie,
And mightily tormented at the hart:
Because he sent them t'ayd the Grecians
Against his will, t'assayle the Troians.
But nerethelesse with hearts repleat with pride,
They went with King Agamemnon to fight
Against their foes, who for them did abide
Vpon the plaine, and when they were in sight,
Each side began the other to defie
In warlike wise with many a shout and crie.
And fearefull noise of drums and trumpets braue,
Wherewith the Troians furiously began
T'assayle the Greeks, and such an onset gaue
To them at that same time, that many a man
On Grecians side were slaine, and they compeld
To make retrait againe out of the field.
Till that the Duke of Athens entered
With mighty force, the furie great to stay
Of Troians, and did make the Greekes that fled
Aduance themselues againe, but in the way
Stout Troielus smot him so great a blow,
That from his horse he did him ouerthrow.
And then with fury great he entered in
The thickest of the presse, and beat downe all
That with him met, and therewith did begin
So hotly on the Myrmidons to fall,
That many of them lost their liues, and so
Farre amongst the thickest of the Greeks did go,
That at the last he put them all to flight
And by his valor great had them in chase,
So long till that the day was past, and night
Began t'appeare, when as he left the place,
And went into the towne, and there did stay
And rest himselfe, till that betimes next day,
They did begin a cruell fight againe
Within the field, so fiercely on each side,
That at that time great store of Knights were slaine
And beaten downe, and as they stoutly ride
To trie their valors one against the other,
Pollidamas and Philomene together
Did take King Thoas prisoner, whom they ment
T'haue carried vnto Troy with speed, had not
The Myrmidons (before with him they went
Out of the field,) from them by valor got,
And rescued him, for they were very strong.
At which time Troilus road amonst the throng.
And thickst of them, and like a valiant Knight,
K [...]ld and orethrew great store of them by force,
So long till that by their great strength and might,
They did enclose him round and kild his horse,
And thought t'haue tane him prisoner, but he foght
So valiantly, that they full dearely bought
His horses life, with many of their owne.
Till at the last his brother Paris spied
Him fighting there on foot with them alone,
And with his other brethren straight did ride
To rescue him, and forcibly made way
Through all the presse, and many of thē did slay,
And by their valors soone recouered had
A horse for him, whereon he lightly sprong,
And then againe such hauocke of them made,
That though he was enclos'd among the throng,
He kild, and beat them downe so furiously,
That many of them dead at his feet did lie▪
But as most like a valiant Champion
He fought in midst of them enclosed round,
One of his brethren cald Margariton,
By Myrmidons receiu'd his deadly wound.
Whose death set Troilus heart on such a fier
With cruelty, that in most furious ire,
He purposed to be reueng'd therefore.
And with his sword by force he made a way
Through thickest of the presse, & downe he bore
All that before him stood or once durst stay
To make resistance, or withstand him then,
The like did Paris with his brethren,
Who altogether furiously did ride
Amongst Achilles Myrmidons, and there
Such hauocke of them made, that to abide
Before them they durst not, but in great feare
They were compeld of mere necessiry
To set spurs to their horses, and to flie
In hast to saue their liues. For Troielus
Did kill and beat them downe so cruelly;
And was on them so fierce and furious,
And wounded them so sore and terribly,
That many of them died in the plaine,
And yet they did the fight long time maintaine.
For they were noble Knights and of great worth,
And knew full well how they their armes shold weild
But yet they were by Troielus driuen forth,
With many wounds sore bleeding from the field:
Not able to withstand his extreame might,
Although they held together, and did fight
Most valiantly, and would not separate
Themselues long time asunder, till at length
They were by Troielus fierce and desperate,
So hotly chast, that by maine force and strength,
He made them breake their rancks, & in despight
Their hearts to flie till that with many a Knight,
King Menelaus, and King Agamemnon,
Ulisses, and most cruell Diomede,
And with them also fierce King Thelamon,
Came to the field; and when they entered,
So valiantly assayld the Troians,
And with such multitudes of Grecians
Vpon them set, that at that time the fight
Betwixt them did so hot and sore renew,
That it did cost the life of many a Knight
On either side; and thereof did ensue,
So terrible a noyse and cry throughout
The field of men that maymed lay, & mought
Not helpe themselues, that all the aire did sound▪
And ring therewith, and many shields were spleet,
And harnes hackt, and hawd, & all the ground
Lay couered ore with hands, armes, heads, & feet
Of men, that cut and mangled dying lay,
And streames of blood ran downe along the way,
And in the plaine, most fearfull to behold.
At which time they of Troy, for all the might
And multitudes of Greeks, with courage bold,
Not once dismaid, so valiantly did fight,
That many Grecian Knights by them were kild,
And wounded sore: and where within the field
The fight most strongest, horst and furious
Was held, and where greatst troopes of Greeks with­stood
The Troians and assayld them, Troiclus
Couragiously amongst the thickest road,
And with his Knights such slaughter of them made,
That in short space he them compelled had
To flie, and to auoid his furious sword,
As th'instrument of their destruction,
And which as death they shuned, and abhord.
And this continued till that Thelamon
The fearefull flying of the Greeks beheld,
Did turne them backe, & made thē keepe the field
And valiantly the Troian Knights assayld.
And then againe the fight was hot and strong,
And Greeks against the Troians sore prevaild,
But that aduantage held not very long:
For Troielus relieued them againe,
And by him then so many Greeks were slaine,
That he compeld them mauger all their might,
And great resistance which they thē did make,
Before his sword againe to take their flight
Vnto their tents, and at that time did take
An hundred Percian Knights, whom he did send
To Troy, and so that day the fight did end.
Which being done the Myrmidons with speed
Vnto their Lord Achilles tent did go,
With many wounds full deepe that sore did bleed,
And in that sort themselues to him did show
W [...]o of their number then were lessened,
An hundred Knights within the field lay dead.
With gastly wounds, slaine by the puissant might,
And valor great of Troielus alone,
Whereof when as Achilles had a sight,
The night ensuing he did nought but grone,
And sigh, and grieue, and was so much opprest
With heauines, that he could take no rest:
For in his mind he had a double wo,
First, for his Knights that had been newly slaine,
And then for Pollicene whom he loued so;
For he knew well that he should nere obtaine
His will of her, if to reuenge his men
He should once seeke the meanes, & therfore thē
His heart burnt in his breast with double fier
Of wrath, and loue, which p [...]t him to great paine,
For wrath prouoked him with great desire
To be reueng'd, and loue did him restraine
From dooing it, and got the vpper hand.
For he in mighty feare and doubt did stand,
That if he should within the field be seene
Against them of the towne, King Priam would
Thinke much thereof, and Hecuba the Queene,
And Pollicene would him for euer hold
To be disloyall and vnkind, whereby
He was in such twofold perplexitie:
That he knew not which way himselfe to wind,
He was so prest with feare and fantasie,
As louers in their braines doe often find,
When they for loue are sicke and like to die.
And thus it far'd with him for many a day,
(In which time as the History doth say,
For seauen dayes ensuing one the other,
The Troians with the Greeks did fiercely fight,
And in such cruell wise then met together,
That it did cost the life of many a Knight
On either side, that pitiously were slaine,
And wounded sore, lay dead vpon the plaine.)
Meane time he musd vpon no other thing
But to obtaine his pleasure, and to win
His Ladies loue, and how't to pa [...]e to bring,
Nere caring what estate the Greeks were in:
Nor how they sped whē gainst their foes they foght
Esteeming it no parcell of his thought.
So much his mind on other things was set,
Which made him oftentimes to watch and wake,
And many sore and cruell sighes to fet:
And so great care and inward thought to take,
That from his heart all comfort cleane was gon,
Till on a day that King Agamemnon,
Perceiuing what destruction still was made
By them of Troy vpon the Grecians, sent
To Priamus for two moneths truce, but had
No grant thereof, for he would not consent
To longer time then for few daies t'endure,
While they prouided for the sepulture,
Of those that on each side lay slaine and dead
Within the field, which they accordingly
Within the daies set downe accomplished,
And after neuer ceast continually
Each other to assayle, while that they were
Besiedging of the towne as you shall heare.

CHAP. III.

¶ How Achilles when Troylus was enclosed round about by his Myrmidons, came behind him and smot off his head, and after drew his body through the field at his horses tayle.

THe cruell and continuall slaughter made
From day to day, still more and more increast
Th'inveterate malice, that continued had
Long twixt the Greeks and Troians, & nere ceast,
Nor nere was like to cease, till that deaths dart
Had killed many Knights on either part:
T'accomplish by most sterne and cruell Fate,
Gods stedfast, and infalible decree,
And t'execute the great and deadly hate
On either side, which might not shunned be:
For Atropos that in deaths ship doth go
For Misteris, had sayd it should be so.
Nor neuer cease till all did go to wracke,
And flattering Fortune with dissembling cheare,
Disdainefully on Troy did turne her backe,
As in this Booke hereafter you shall heare:
For when the last day of the truce was past,
On either side they armd themselues in hast:
And in the morning early fore Sun rose,
Into the field they went and fiercely met
Together, like most sterne and deadly foes,
Where Paris first on Menelaus did set:
And they each other brauely did vnhorse,
For they were both of passing might and force.
And then Ulisses furiously did run
With mighty speare against Pollidamas,
Where twixt them both a cruell fight begun,
For neither of them vnex perienst was,
How to defend himselfe against his foe,
And while they were together fighting so,
Not farre from them Menestes fiercely smot
Anthenor with his speare, so great a blow,
That it in peeces brake, yet fayled not
Him to the ground therewith to ouerthrow,
And Philomene a King on Troians side,
To valiant King Agamemnon did ride,
Who at the first together fiercely sought,
But in a little while Agamemnon
Was by him into so great danger brought,
That he had sure been slaine, if Thelamon
Had not come thither t'ayd him in his need,
Who setting spurs vnto his gallant steed,
Stroke Philomene with such a mighty ferce,
That with the blow which was exceeding strong,
He smot him to the ground off from his horse.
And then amongst the thick est of the throng,
The young and valiant Knight Archilagus,
Ran at a Troian Knight cald Br [...]i [...]s
King Priams Bastard son, to whom he gaue
So mighty and so puissanta blow,
That neither shield nor armor could him saue,
But dead vnto the ground he did him throw▪
Whose death when as the Troians did espie,
They did cast forth a huge and piteous crie,
And grieuously complaining for the same,
Were sore abasht, and striken in great feare,
But when the newes thereof to Troielus came,
T'reuenge his death he did protest and sweare:
And presently did make no more abode,
But to the place where he was slaine, straight rode
And with his sword so furiously did slay
And wound the Greeks, that he did make their blood
Run downe in mighty streames along the way,
And in the plaine, and all that him withstood
Were fiercely by him beaten downe, and kild:
So that the hardiest Knight then in the field,
Durst not abide in his most furious sight,
He slew and wounded them so c [...]uelly,
And had that time sure put them all to flight,
But that the Myrmidons most valiantly
Withstood him for a while, (who all that day
With one consent in wait for Troielus lay.
For which he was in such a mighty rage,
That like a Knight that did in armes excell,
His furious wrath and anger to asswage,
With courage bold vpon them all he fell,
And did amongst the thickest of them ride,
Where some of them he wounded in the side,
Some in the brest, and some he did bereaue
Of heads, hands, legs, and feet, and some he smot
So puissantly, that he did fiercely cleaue
Their bodies in two parts, and spared not
To hac, and hew them downe so mightily,
That at the last they were compeld to flie
Vnto their tents, pusued by Troielus
With many Knights, till he did them oretake,
Wherewith most cruell heart and furious,
He did so great a slaughter of them make,
And put them to so great extremitie,
That they cast forth a fearefull noyse and crie.
And such a great and lamentable mone,
Was heard of them that lay vpon the ground,
And gasping, cast out many grieuous grone,
That all the field and plaine therewith did sound:
And through the campe the tumult was so great,
Because their foes so fiercely on them set,
That at the last it came t' Achilles eare,
Who calling to his men, demanded why
The Grecians at that time were in such feare,
That they did make so great a noise and cry?
Who told him that for want of ayd, as then
The Troians in their tents did slay their men.
And put them to so great extremitie,
That they were forst to cry for griefe and paine,
Which they endured by the crueltie
Of Troielus, and that his men were slaine
Likewise within his tent, and there did lie
In great distresse without all remedie.
And while they thus vnto Achilles spake,
A Grecian Knight came running from the plaine,
Whose heart within his brest for feare did shake,
And sayd to him, how can you now sustaine
And beare this great and cruell iniurie,
To soe your men before your face thus lie
Dead on the ground, and slaine in cruell wise
Within your tent, and take therof no heed?
But stay still here, when as your enemies
Haue sworne, and with full intent decreed,
To kill you thus disarmed as you stand,
If by your mighty force and puissant hand
You doe them not resist, and valiantly
Shew forth your courage, and ere hence they passe,
Requite them for the extreame cruelty
Which they haue showd to vs herein this place.
Which when Achilles heard with furious ire
Which in his brest did burne as hot as fier▪
He armd himselfe and soming like a Bore,
(Forgetting that whereof so much he drempt
And thought vpon,) vnto himselfe he swore
To be reuengd, (for loue was cleane exempt▪
Out of his mind, and Pollicene also,
For whom he had endured so great wo,
And for her beauty felt such griefe in hart▪)
Vpon the Troians for their crueltie.
That suddenly vpon his feet he start,
And calling for his horse, road speedily
Into the field, where in short space he had
So great a slaughter of the Troians made,
And did so furiously vpon them set:
(For like a greedy woolfe that seeks for pray,
He kild, and spared none that with him met,
Or that durst him witstand along the way
Whereas he road.) That in a little space
He made the Troians flie before his face,
And shun his sword, all died with their blood,
(Wherewith he had so many of them slaine.)
For there was none that him as then withstood,
But he was soone layd dead vpon the plaine:
Till Troielus that by fortune did behold,
How he the Troians slew with courage bold,
Ran at him with most great and puissant force,
Whose comming when Achilles did espie,
He likewise spurd his strong and gallant horse,
And ran at him with like dexteritie,
And met together with such puissant might,
That each the other to the ground did smight,
Both pierced in their brests, but differently,
Achilles with a wound most daungerous,
Whereof he was constrained long to lie
Within his tent to heal't, but Troielus
A little prickt: and so that day till night,
And six daies more ensuing they did fight,
And neuer ceast in furious wise to kill,
And to destroy each other valiantly,
And in that time great store of blood did spill,
Vnto no little damage certainely
On either side, for many a worthy Knight
Was brought vnto his end with great despight,
In that same time. But cause I doe not know
Their names, nor of what dignities they were,
For Guydo in his Booke doth it not show,
To write them I must likewise now forbeare,
And let their names and titles with them die,
And in obliuion rest perpetually.
But when King Priamus was certified
How fierce Achilles in the field had been
That day to fight, and thereby falsified
His promise made for loue of Pollicene:
Sore grieud he was, and did himselfe perswade
Achilles with his words had him betraid.
But truth to say, t'was neither fraud nor guile,
Nor any treason secretly decreed,
But heat of loue which lasteth but a while,
Which for that time did vex Achilles head:
And made him sweare to do more then he could,
(And like the wind that none by force can hold.)
Let words from his dissembling mouth be heard
Contrary vnto that he ment to do.
The which a man that's wise should not regard,
And make as though he gaue no eare thereto.
For though Achilles had tofore been gotten
In Cupids snare, he had it then forgotten,
And card not in his furie to displease
His Lady, whom so much he seemd to flatter;
He had not any will the warre to cease
As he had sayd, but cleane contrary matter
Was in his head, then he made shew to meane,
And promist to the Queene and Pollicene.
And for that cause King Priam did vpbraid
And cast her in the teeth with light conceit
Of false Achilles loue, wherein she layd
Her trust, whereas he ment nought but deceit,
For which she was sore grieud, because that shee
Did to the Queene her mothers will agree
To marry with Achilles, to th'intent
That by her meanes and marriage there might be
A peace for euer made. But t'was not ment
By trecherous Achilles, for when he
Was healed of his wounds, he did deuise,
And in his traitrous heart a way surmise
To be reuengd on Troielus, who still
Stake deepely in his cruell heart and mind,
If that he might haue meanes t'obtaine his will,
And him at some aduantage take or find.
Such hatred in his heart to him he bare,
That day and night he tooke no other care,
Nor set his mind vpon no other thing,
But onely how to quench the burning fier
Of enuy gainst him borne, and how to bring
The same t'eflect according t'his desire:
For he had sworne and bound it with a vow,
That Troielus should die, (he card not how,
Nor by what meanes,) by his hand and none other.
And to that end with purpose fully bent:
T▪effect his will he cald his Knights together,
And when they were assembled in his tent
(One morning when the Grecians forth did go
Into the field with braue and warlike sho,
To fight against their Tr [...] enemy,
Who in like sort out of the towne were come
With all their force the Grecian to defie,
And ready stood with sound of fearefull drume,
And trumpets shrill▪ to call and to invite
The Grecians to a fierce and cruell fight.)
He did to them of Troielus complaine
For th'iniuries that he to him had done,
And prayed them that they would take the paine
That day to let all other things alone,
And onely watch on Troielus to hold
And to enclose him round if that they could
In midst of them, and when they had don so,
In furious wise t'assayle him altogether,
And not by any meanes to let him go,
But yet to saue his life till he came thither.
That with his sword alone he might him kill
To satisfie his fierce and cruell will.
Lo here the valor of this worthy Knight,
Who enviously with rancor and in pride,
By treason and with rage and great despight,
All honor and true Knight-hood layd aside;
Doth seeke to kill a worthier Knight then he,
Alas that ere such trechery should be
Within the heart of any man aliue,
That doth professe to be a valiant Knight,
And honor seekes to win and to achiue
Most valiant acts, and who is bound by right
And law of armes, while life in him doth rest,
All falsehood and fowle treason to detest.
And to maintaine all truth and equitie,
For now he doth in secret wise conspire
The death of him by great disloyalty,
That onely vnto honor did aspire.
And he that was the braust and worthiest knight
That euer ware or put on armor bright.
(But that which by Gods will ordained is,
Though nere so much men seeke it to withstand,
Must fall out in the end and cannot mis.)
The which his Myrmidons did take in hand:
And promised to do as he had sayd,
And so no longer time therein delaid.
But went into the field, where Troielus
With all the Troian troopes did ready stand,
Who valiantly with heart couragious,
And with his strong and trenchant blade in hand
Vpon the Grecians set, and of them made
Such hauocke, that in little time he had
So many of them slaine, and ouerthrowne,
And furiously sore wounded euery where
As he amongst them road and past, that none
Of them durst stand against him, and appeare
Before his face, and did so hotly chase,
And kill, and beat them downe in euery place,
That they began for feare of him to flie,
So that despight of all the Greeks he won
The field of them, and with such crueltie
Pursued them, that ere it was full noone
That day, he had constraind them to retire
To saue their liues, and shun his furious ire.
Till that Achilles Myrmidons began
T'inclose him round about on euery side,
And with most great despight vpon him ran,
And he to them in furious wise did ride,
And though alone he was amongst them all,
Like Lyon fierce vpon them he did fall,
And in such furious wise did them assayle,
And valiantly to kill them did not cease,
That in short space he did so much preuaile
Gainst them, that he their number did decrease:
For some he slew out right, and some he bore
Downe to the ground, & some he wounded sore,
And some he maim'd, and some he cleft in twaine,
And hackt and hewed them most cruelly,
And did the fight so valiantly maintaine
Against them all, with such dexterity,
That they could not his hautie heart subdue,
But still he seem'd his courage to renew.
And them with force and valor great t'assayle.
And by no meanes to giue them any rest.
But what could all his power and strength preuaile,
When as he was so mightily opprest;
And that three thousand knights did neuer cease
In furious wise vpon him still to presse.
And more and more on euery side him held
At such a bay, that cowardly, in th'end
They kild his horse, whereby he was compeld
To fight on foot, and yet he did defend
Himselfe so valiantly that they well felt
The puissant blowes which he amongst them delt
But nerethelesse he was so sore beset
That all he did could him no whit prevaile,
By any meanes from midst of them to get,
For they did him so furiously assayle:
That mauger his most puissant force & might,
Off from his head they did his helmet smight.
And hackt and heawd his armor in such wise,
That naked both with head and necke he stood
In midst of all his furious enemies
Without reliefe. Yet like a Lyon wood
He shewd himselfe a valiant Champion,
And neuer ceast to smight and beat them down.
And to withstand them mightily and long,
Disarmed as he was, till in the end
Achilles entring in amongst the throng
Of Myrmidons, where Troielus did defend
Himselfe, & gainst them fought with courage bold:
Whom when he did in such a case behold
Sore wearied with fighting, and in need
Of ayd, (as then,) with extreame cruelty
Ere Troilus of him tooke any heed,
Behind him fiercely road; and cowardly
Smot off his head, and not contented so;
Vnknightly his great crueltie to sho,
He causd his mangled body to be bound
Vnto his horses tayle, and in a rage
Drewt after him along vpon the ground
Throughout the field, his choler to asswage,
And to content his fierce and cruell will,
Which tooke delight his enemies blood to spill
By treason, as too well it doth appeare
By that disloyall act which he then wrought.
But he that such a traiterous heart doth beare,
All honor and renowne doth set at nought:
So that he may effect his cruelty,
And bad intent against his enemy.
But now I must a little change my stile,
And leaue the Greeks and Troians in the fight;
And vnto learned Homer speake a while,
Who as it seemes did take a great delight
To praise Achilles for his chivalry,
And all the Greeks t'extoll and magnifie.
But Homer thou hadst need to blush for shame,
And to condemne thine owne partiality,
For magnifying of Achilles name,
That in thy booke extolst him to the skie:
Who while he liu'd was full of fraud and guile,
And neuer did deserue so loftie a stile.
I must confesse that with great Eloquence,
And Rethoricke, thou hast set forth his praise,
And like a Poet of great excellence,
Dost say he was the best Knight in his daies.
Yet in one point thou greatly art to blame,
Without iust cause to magnifie his name,
And t'eleuate, commend, and glorifie
Him with a title of such happines,
As that for euerlasting memorie
Thou dost declare, that through his worthines
And Knight-hood, he the honor did obtaine,
By his owne hand two Hectors to haue slaine.
(One, who in truth for Knight-hood did surpas
All men that euer liu'd, for such an other
Was neuer found, and Troielus that was
A most renowned Knight, his youngest brother:
Who likewise well deserued for his fame
And valor great, a second Hectors name.)
If thou wast moued by affection
And loue which thou dost seeme in heart to beare
Vnto the valiant Greekish Nation,
To praise him, thou shouldst not for loue nor feare,
Refuse to write the truth of euery thing,
And set aside all lies and flattering.
For when that he slew Hector in the field,
It was when he without all feare or care,
To ease himselfe a while had cast his shield
Behind him at his backe, and fore him bare
A Kings dead corps before his sadle bow;
And of his comming did full little know:
For if he had perceiud his trechery,
Thou hadst not had the cause of him to boast
As now thou hast, for by his chiualry,
He would haue made Achilles, to his cost
To feele his puissant force and valor great,
And him besides his purpose would haue set.
And so he did to Troielus likewise,
Who being all alone enclosed round
Amongst the Greeks, his deadly enemies,
And fighting there on foot vpon the ground,
Disarmed head and necke, in great distresse,
And redy for to faint with wearinesse:
He road behind him and most cowardly
Smot off his head, when he suspected least
He would haue vsed him so traiterously;
Now iudge you all I pray at my request,
Ift were an act of any valiant Knight,
To kill a man sore wearied in fight.
Which he had held gainst thousands all that day,
And much of his most Princely blood had spent,
In midst of them as he stood at a bay,
Bare headed, with his armor all most rent
Cleane off his backe, not able to sustaine
Himselfe, but in great danger to be slaine.
And in that case to come so cowardly
Behind his backe, and kill him vnawares,
To couer his devised trechery,
As one that of his honor had no care.
Praise him not therefore Homer for the same,
But rather vnto his eternall shame,
Out of thy worthy learned Booke deface
His name, and of him make no memorie
Therein at all, for surely in this case,
When as I heare his name, me thinks the skie
Infected is therewith, and that throughout
The world all men against him do crie out.
For if he had esteem'd Nobilitie,
Knight-hood, renowne, or worthines, or fame,
Praise, honor, glory or gentilitie;
Or in Fames Booke t'haue registred his name,
He would haue been aduisd and taken heed,
For honors sake t'haue done so fowle a deed,
To draw so great a Prince when he was dead
At his horse tayle, who was so braue a Knight
That while he liud, and in Troy flourished;
To speake the truth and yeild to him his right,
Surpast Achilles far in each degree,
Of Knight-hood, valor, and actiuitie.
But to returne where I did leaue, when as
His brother Paris did behold and see
Him dead, and drawne by Achilles as he was,
With such despight and so great crueltie:
Such griefe and sorrow at that time he had,
Within his heart, that like a man that's mad
He fard, and with all speed that he could make,
Pollidamas and he together ran,
And many more to see if he could take
His body from Achilles, but as than
The Grecians fought so hotly, that in vaine
They labored, for they could not obtaine
To their desires, what meanes so ere they made,
Till Menon who entire affection bare
To Troielus, and great compassion had
To see him dead, without all feare or care
Of fierce Achilles valor, did protest,
That he would neuer leaue, nor take his rest
Till he reuengd his death vpon the man
That had him slaine, and presently did take
His speare in hand, and at Achilles ran,
To whom in fierce and furious wise he spake,
And sayd, thou traitor false and mischiuous,
Thou Scorpion most vile and enuious,
That in dishonor of all chivalry,
This day hast slaine the worthiest Knight that liu'd
Vpon the earth, by thy false trechery,
Who cannot but be vexed, mou'd and griu'd,
To see a worthy Knight of his degree,
Drawne in such wise as he is now by thee
At thy horse tayle in scorne and great despight?
Hast thou forgotten and abandoned
All knight-hood, that thou sholdst now take delight
To do so great disgrace to him that's dead.
Who while he liu'd was better knight then thou,
The which I meane to proue vpon thee now,
And for this vile and most vnknightly act,
Reuenge his death, whom thou this day hast kild
By treason, with thy Myrmidons compact,
And by this meanes thy trechery fulfild.
Whereby thou thinkst great honor to haue gotten,
But thy fowle fact will neuer be forgotten
While that the world endures, and presently
He set speare in rest, and spurring's horse
Ran at Achilles, and most valiantly
Hit him vpon the brest with so great force,
That with the blow he ready was to fall
Vnto the ground, and brauely therewithall
Drew out his sword, & that he might well know,
That he of him did stand in little dread,
Strake him therewith a strong and mighty blow,
And gaue him such a wound vpon his head,
That notwithstanding all his puissant force,
He made him fal downe headlong from his horse.
Vpon the ground, whereon in extreame paine
He lay long time as if he had been dead,
Till that his Knights did take him vp againe,
And notwithstanding that full sore he blead,
Got him at last to mount vpon his horse,
And when he had recouered his force,
And felt himselfe well eased of his paine.
With purpose to reuenge the iniury
He thought he had receiud, in great disdaine
He spurd his puissant horse, and furiously
At Menon ran, whose comming when he spide,
He likewise set spurs to his horses side,
And like a valiant Knight that feard him nought,
With courage bold met with him on the plaine,
Wherewith their swords they both together fought,
And twixt them did a combat long maintaine
With fierce and mighty blowes, till in the end
King Menon did himselfe so well defend,
That he th'aduantage of Achilles had,
And in despight of all his fury great,
(For he as then fought as he had been mad.)
So valiantly vpon him then did set,
That he had surely slaine him, but that then
There came twixt them so great a troope of men
On either side, that they were forst to stay
Their combat, and by that meanes parted were,
And each from other borne cleane away:
At which time such a cruell slaughter there
Was made of many a valiant knight and stout,
That all the field and all the plaine throughout
Was fild with men that slaine and wounded sore,
Lay mangled on the ground in cruell wise,
For neither Greeks nor Troians would giue ore
Till Phoebus did begin to leaue the skies,
And to descend, at which time they withdrew
Themselues out of the field, and did renew
The fight againe next day, and met together
Assoone as sunne did rise, and euery day,
For seuen daies ensuing one the other,
Continually from fighting did not stay.
While that Achilles in his tent did lie
To cure his wounds, and there new trethery
Within his mind did practise and devise,
To be reuengd on Menon, who as then
He hated sore, because that in such wise
He wounded him, and to him cald his men,
And bad them when they fit occasion found
Within the field, t'inclose King Menon round
On euery side, and when they had him so
Amongst them, to assayle him altogether,
And by no meanes from them to let him go,
(But not to kill him till that he came thither.)
That he himselfe on him reueng'd might be,
And so they did: for as he did decree
With them in secret wise to do the same,
The next day in the morning when they met,
And either side gainst other fiercely came
Into the field, with rage and choler great,
Achilles and King Menon met together,
And valiantly assayled each the other.
On horsebacke as they sat where they did fight
So long, and in such furious wise, that both
O [...] them compelled were by force t'alight,
And so on foot in mighty rage and wroth,
Fought valiantly. But while that on the ground
King Menon stood, he was enclosed round
By Myrmidens, and as Achilles bad,
When he was in the middest of them all,
And not one Troian Knight to ayd him had,
In furious wise they did vpon him fall:
And though long time he did the fight maintain
Against them all; at last he was there slaine
In traiterous wise by false Achilles hand,
(Who by that meanes did his desire obtaine.
But yet he did so valiantly withstand
Him, and them all, ere he by him was slaine,
That fore that he fell dead vpon the ground,
He gaue Achilles such a cruell wound,
That all men thought he would thereof haue died.
Now Homer iudge in truth, and with good reason,
(A [...]by no vpright mind't can be deni'd,)
If this were not most vile and filthy treason
The which Achilles wrought: and say with right,
If euer he slew any worthy Knight
Vnlesse it were by treason as tis true
And proued by King Menons death, whom he
Slew in that sort. And then giue him his dew;
And thou shalt find his knight-hood staind to be
With foule disgrace, and all his praise nought worth
And contrary to that which thou setst forth.
So that thou canst not rightly (and speake true)
(Though nere so eloquently thou dost write,)
Commend him, vnlesse that thou saist vntrue,
And showst thy selfe one that doth take delight
To hide his treason with thy sugred phrase,
And him that nere deseru'd, the same to praise.
But now I must leaue Homer, and againe
Returne to show vnto you how that day
When that Achilles Troielus had slaine,
(Who of the Troians then was th'onely stay,)
The Greeks (encouragd by King Menclaus
And others;) were so fierce and furious
Vpon the Troians, and did them pursue
So hotly; that they forced them to flie
In mighty feare, and many of them slew
As they before them ran, and cruelly
Did wound, orethrow, & chase, & beat thē down
Euen to the walles and trenches of the Towne.
And made them in despight their hea [...]t [...], forsake
The field, and t'enter Troy most woefully
With Troiclus, whose body they did take,
And bare it in with great solemnity.
Where all along the towne as it did pas
Such sorrow for his death then made there was,
That no man liuing can discribe, or tell
The halfe thereof. No not most learned Boys,
Who hath the praise in phrases fit t'excell,
And of most dolefull words to haue great choise:
When as he maketh shew to weep and crie
In his complaint made to Philosophie,
Wherein he seemeth Fortune to accuse
For her vnconstant dealing, and doth charge
Her by that meanes, all mortall men t'abuse.
Nor Stacie who of Thebes writes at large,
The woefull and the most vnhappy fall,
And doth describe the death and funerall
Of those that were the causers of the same.
Leaue of thy mournfull weeping Niobe,
And thou that art reported t'haue the fame,
Each yeare so farre ore land and sea to flee:
And great complaints and woefull cries to make
For thy deare brother Aliagers sake.
Let Oedipus the Theban King, that so
Did weepe and waile that he lost both his eies,
Content himselfe, and many other mo.
As Mirha and Calixtone, whose cries
And dolefull mones so well were heard & seene.
And Dido faire that sometime raigned Queene
Of Carthage towne, and for her loue did die.
Let Phillis mourne no more for Demophon [...]
Nor eccho still renew her woefull crie.
Let faire Corrinne cease to make such mone
As she long did, and nere left night nor day,
Because that she had lost her Popingay,
As Onid in his Booke doth tell. And let
All their complaints, their forrowes, & their mone▪
Forgotten and cleane out of mind be set,
For they are nothing in comparison
To that of Troy, which euery one did make
Within the towne, for worthy Troylus sake.
For high, and low, wiues, children, and men,
So piteously complaind: and for him there,
So many salt and brinish teares were then
Let fall, that men nought els in Troy did heare
But mournfull cries, and lamentations sad
By them cast forth. That nere the like was made
In any place, nor no man well can tell
Nor yet expresse the same, for it is sure
That Pluto whom men call the Prince of Hell,
(For all the torments great he doth indure.)
Proserpin [...], nor furious Ticius,
Nor Irian, nor hungry Tantalus.
Though they tormented are with extreame paine,
With him together in th'infernall lake,
Nere could nor did more bitterly complaine,
Then all the Troians did for Troielus sake.
For who-could grieue more then King Priamus,
Or shead more dolefull teares and piteous,
Out of their eies, then Hecuba the Queene,
Eassandra, Hellen, Paris, Hellenus,
And beautifull young Lady Pollicene?
Or then the Troians with most dolorous,
And woefull cries, did all in generall
Shed forth, and did gainst Fortune cry and call:
Accusing her of great inconstancie?
For they were cleane discomforted and out
Of hope to be relieud, sith enviously
She had bereaued them of Hector stout,
And of his valiant brother Deiphobus,
And in their greatest need, of Troielus.
So that in sore distresse and desperate mood,
They vtterly dispaird of their estate,
The which they knew in danger great then stood,
And made account as men vnfortunate,
T'expect nought els but their confusion,
And finally the whole destruction
Of them, and of their towne that was so strong,
And therefore it availeth not to mourne,
Nor of their griefe to make discourse so long.
Sith they by Fate to that hard hap were borne.
And for that cause ile leau't, and to you shoe,
How Prianous in that distresse and woe,
A messenger vnto the Grecians sent,
For truce for certaine moneths, which presently
(With all the Grecian Princes full consent.)
Agamemnon did graunt and ratefie,
Which either side obseru'd, while it did last,
And freshly fought againe when it was past.

CHAP. III.

¶ How Paris slew Achilles, and Archilagus Duke Nestors Sonne in the Temple of A pollo in Troy.

THe truce aforesaid lasting, Priamus
A Sepulcher did make most sumptuously,
Of metall and of stone, for Troielus:
And buried him with great solemnity.
And hard by him King Menons body lay
Intombed, and both buried on a day.
And as the Pagans were accustomed
By th'ancient lawes, in ceremoniall wise,
Most dolefully for them solemnised,
And dewly held their funerall obsequies:
With great deuotion and obseruances,
The which to you is needles to expresse.
And therefore at this time ile let it pas,
As tedious both to heare and tell likewise.
And shew you how Queene Hecuba that was
Sore grieu'd for death of Troilus, did deuise
And practise in her mind how to require
Achilles, for the trech'ry and despight
Which he both vnto her and Troy had don.
And to that end she sent in secret wise
For Paris, (who was then her eldest Son,)
To whom with teares that trickled downe her eies,
Aud mournfully with sad and heauy cheare,
She spake and sayd to him, as you shall heare.
Paris thou knowest as well as I can tell,
How false Achilles by his trechery
Hath slaine my sonnes, (who liuing did excell
Him farre,) and by his extreame cruelty
Hath me bereaud of them, and left me none
But onely thee, to comfort me alone.
For cowardly thou knowst how he did slay
Thy eldest brother Hector vnaware,
And Troielus likewise, that were a stay
And comfort vnto me in griefe and care:
And therefore now I haue determined
Within my mind, his traiterous blood to shead.
And him to pay as reason is and right,
With treason for his treason done to me,
And treachery with treach'ry to requite.
And thus it is; thou knowest well that he
Loues Policene thy sister, and doth craue
Most earnestly her for his wife to haue.
Now my intent is presently to send
For him, without delay to come to me
Into Apollos Temple, to the end
We may with speed vpon the same agree:
Where thou well arm'd in secret wise shalt stand
With certaine knights, and readie be at hand
To kill him there, while he for me doth stay,
Where let him of his death be surelie sped,
And see that by no meanes he scape away,
Out of thy hands, vntill that he be dead:
Which I thee heartly pray as't is my will,
Effectuall for my sake to fulfill,
And see thou failest not to do the same.
Whereto he did agree, and presentlie
Against Achilles to the Temple came,
With twentie valiant knights there secretly
Did stay. Meane time Queene Hecuba did send
A messenger t'Achilles to that end,
As she with Paris had determined:
By whome she made him certainlie belieue,
That she did meane and fullie purposed,
Her daughter Policene to him to giue:
And at his comming would (as she did say)
Agree twixt them vpon the marriage day.
Where to he did most willinglie consent,
As he that no suspition had in mind
Of treason, for his heart it was so bent,
And set on fire with loue, that he was blind
And could not see, nor yet perceiue at all,
By reason and aduise what might be fall
To him by going into Troy so soone
At her request, he had offended so
By killing of her Sons as he had done,
But hap what would, needs thither would he go:
As louers all are fond, and despratly
No perill shun (although that they should die)
T'enioy the thing wherewith in loue they are,
(Their maladie it is so furious)
Vntill they are intrapped in a snare.
And so Achilles, and Archilogus
Duke Nestors Son, that bare him company,
Did goe to Troy, and entring presently
Into the Temple of Apollo went,
Where Paris with his Knights for him did stay
In secret wise, with purpose fully bent
Him there (as he deserued had) to slay:
And sodainly assoone as he was in,
T'assaile him altogether did begin.
(By night (as some do say) but when so ere
The same was done) when as Achilles saw
Himselfe assaild, abandoning all feare,
He did his sword out of his scabberd draw,
And in short space despight of all their mights,
In furious wise he slew seuen Troyan knights.
And did defend himselfe so valiantly
Against them then, although they were so many,
And with them fought with such dexterity,
That long it was ere vantage they bad any
On him at all, till Paris who as then,
Stood watching oportunitie, and when
He saw Achilles such resistance make,
Tooke vp a Dart and aim'd at him so well,
And so directly, that therewith he strake
Him through the heart: and therewith all he fell
With pale and deadly face vpon the ground,
And body mangled sore with many a wound.
And so was slaine his treason to requite.
As reason is that such as traitors are,
And while they liue in treachery delight,
Should at the last fall in the selfe same snare
Which they for others had prepar'd. And thus
Achilles, and with him Archilogus,
Were slaine by Paris in the Temple, at
Queene Hecubaes desire and request,
Who presently did giue commandment that
Their bodies in the Temple should not rest:
And made them to be drawne out of the bounds
Thereof, and to be throwne vnto the hounds.
Loe here the iust reward of treachery
And of deceit, which while he liued he
Delighted in, and how with equitie
God punisheth all such as traitors be:
For reason is, that he that seeks t'obtaine
His will by treason, should likewise againe
With treason be requited for his paine.
As false Achilles was, that tooke delight
In treason while he liu'd, and so was staine
Within Apollos Temple in the night:
But yet their bodie: were not as tis said,
(Although that they in th'open streets were laid,
That with great ioy the Troyans might them see)
Devour'd by hounds as by commandment
Of Hecuba they were ordaind to be.
For Helena vnto King Priam went,
And on her knees of him did humbly craue,
Their bodies from that cruelty to saue.
Who willinglie did therevnto consent,
And caus'd them to be kept as she desir'd,
Till that King Agamemnon to him sent
A messenger, and leaue of him requir'd,
To fetch them, and to giue them buriall,
The which he did; for whome in generall
The Grecians did such extreame sorrow make,
And were so much discomforted therefore,
That in great feare each vnto other spake,
And said alas, now farewell euermore,
Our trust, our hope, our ioy, our confidence,
Our welfare, and our soueraigne defence,
Sith valorous Achilles now is dead.
For he in knighthood did so much excell,
That while he liu'd, we neuer stood in dread
To overcome this towne, but now full well
We may both feare, and plainlie say, that we
Nere in our liues shall masters thereof be.
And while that they such sorrow great did make,
And plunged were in extreame doubts & feares,
For their great Champion fierce Achilles sake,
Agamemnon two costly Sepulchers,
For workemanship most rare and curious
Caus'd to made, one for Archilogus,
The other for Achilles, wherein they
Intombed were with great solemnitie
In Paynim wise, and both vpon a day.
To shew the whole particularity,
And manner of their ancient buriall,
Were over-long to trouble you withall.
It shall suffice to tell that they did make
Much sorrow, and endur'd great heauinesse
For death of them, and how in mournfull blacke
They brought them to their graues, & to expresse
Their woefulnes with heauie heart and mood,
Some threw sweet gums, & some cast milk & blood
Into the funerall fires, and how they made
Playes, which by them were called palestrall
And wrastrings at the wakes, and how they had
Great store of customes ceremoniall
At burials of the dead, the which much more
Then needfull were to tell as now, therefore
Ile leaue herewith. And vnto you declare,
How therevpon King Agamemnon sent
For all the Grecian Princes that then were
Within the hoast, to come vnto his tent:
And when they all assembled were therein
And orderly set downe, he did begin
To speake to them and said, my Lords tis now
No time to moue nor need t'encourage your
Against your Troyan foes, sith that you know
And too well find by good experience, how
Vnconstant fortune hath now chang'd her face,
And sodenly cleane altered our case▪
And fild your hearts with rage and iust despight,
To thinke vpon the murther horrible
Of late done to Achilles, (which in sight
Of God and man is foule and odible,
Despightfully by Hecuba the Queene)
For which I thinke it shortlie shall be seene,
If that within your valiant hearts there be,
Or resteth any man-hood, force, or wit,
To make a vertue of necessitie:
And to refraine till that occasion fit
To take revenge therefore, and t'recompence
The iniurie, despight, and great offence
Vnto you done and giuen thereby, fall out,
As reason tis it should requited be,
(For very beasts insensible no doubt,
Would do the same in like extremitie,)
But yet as you are wise and prouident,
I would faine know your meaning and intent,
What you thinke best by vs now to be done.
And whether that you will the warre maintaine,
And hold the siege still here before the towne,
Till that it be destroyd, or go againe
Home into Greece, sith our chiefe Champion,
Our sole defence, and our protection,
Achilles now is slaine. Whose death alone
Vnto vs will a mighty hindrance be.
And therefore I entreat you euery one,
To giue me your advise herein what we
Shall doe: sith that the case now standeth thus,
For that delay oft proueth dangerous.
Which having said, the Princes all began
To fall in great dissention, and to varrie
Amongst themselues, and many of them than
Were halfe in feare no longer there to tarry:
And doubtfull were what they were best to do.
But some reply'd and answere made thereto;
That happen life or death they would still stay,
And never leaue the siege till they had woone
And cleane destroyd the towne: and some did say
They would not stay, but presently be gone,
And into Greece returne againe with speed:
And in that sort a while they disagreed,
And every man was of opinion
Contrarie each to other. But in th'end
They did all with full resolution
Agree to stay, and ceasing to contend,
Said flatlie, they would neuer leaue the towne,
Till they had it destroyd and beaten downe.
Although their chiefe and onelie Champion,
Achilles then was slaine, of whome they made
So great account, for their opinion
Was, sith that all the Gods decreed had
They should destroy the same, they did not doubt
But in short time to bring the same about.
And to confirme their resolution,
And that they might still firmelie therein hold,
The worthy Grecian Knight cald Thelamon,
Surnamed Aiax, did with courage bold
Stand vp, and when he had obeysance made,
Vnto them all in this wise spake and said.
My Lords and Princes all assembled now,
If you will take my counsell and advise,
I am perswaded it is best for you,
Sith that Achilles in such traiterous wise
Is slaine, that we a messenger should send,
To fetch his Son yong Pyrrhus, to the end
He may revenge his fathers death, and aid
Vsto atchieue our enterprise in hand [...]
Who at this time as I haue hard it said,
Remaineth with King Licomedes, and
As men of him repor, tis said to be
A valiant Knight and likely, if that he
While he is yong take on him armes to beare,
To proue a knight of great renowne and fame:
And also ift be true as I do heare
By prophesie, which doth foreshow the same,
Troy nere shall be destroyd, vnlesse that he
With vs to doe the same here present be.
And further that till Pyrrhus do come hither,
We never shall obtaine the victory
Against our foes, and therefore let's together
Agree to send one thither presently
To fetch him. Wherevnto they did consent▪
And Menelaus of that Embassage went.
Who entring ship, saild forth the selfe same day,
And soone arriu'd where Licomedes dwelt;
Where with him for a while ile let him stay,
And show you how the Greeks and Troyans dealt
Together, when (truce past) in fight they were,
As in the Chapter following you shall heare.

CHAP. V.

¶ How Paris and Thelamon Aiax slew each other; & how Queene Helena Lamen­ted for the death of Paris; the Greci­ans remooue their tents necrer vnto Troy, and the truce is ended betweene them.

WHē Phoebus by due course (as time doth passe)
Into the signe of Cancer entrie made,
And in the height of his assention was,
Which vsually men Summer call, and had
Drawen from the root of every flower & tree,
The vertue, sweetnesse, and humiditie,
And made them mount into the hearbs & leaues [...]
And when each flower doth fresh & gay appeare,
Till Cancer place by course to Leo giues,
Which is the time and season of the yeare:
When as the Sun being in the highest degree
Descends, and is said retrograde to bee;
And with his mighty heat & feruor cleane
Dries vp the sap of roots, trees, hearbs, & flowers,
(And that which spring time made shew fresh and
Cōverts to white (for want of April showers) (green)
To mollifie his strong decoction.
For that by naturall digestion,
The moysture which in fruits & flowers abounds
By reason of the great humiditie
Which is in them, he dries vp & confounds:
And with his heat & extreame fervencie,
(Which hotest is when it is Summer weather,)
Doth ripen them, and make them sit to gather?
And pull off from the branches as they spread
And hang thereon, in their due time and season.
When Cheries gin to ripen and wax red,
And other kinds of friuts are yong and geason.
In Iune, and at the latter end of May,
When as the hot and pleasant Summers day,
By course of time is sixteene howers long,
The Greeks with hearts repleat with wrath and ire,
Presuming of their force that was so strong,
And hoping to attaine to their desire,
Into the field couragiously did go
Well arm'd to fight against their Troyan foe.
Conducted by the Kings Agamemnon,
Ulisses, valiant Diomede and mo,
As Menestes, and furious Thelamon,
(Who that same day into the field did go,
Without an armor, helmer, speare, or shield,
Onely his sword which in his hand he held,
And naked in that sort most brauely fought.)
Gainst whom the Trayans (though in feare & doubt)
Did issue forth, for that King Priam thought
His force too weake, so often to go out
As he was woont, sith his Sons valorous,
Hector, Deiphobus, and yong Troyelus,
Vnfortunatelie were all dead and slaine:
Yet not to giue the Grecians cause to say
He feared them, he sent them out againe,
And gaue the chiefe command of them that day
To Paris, that his eldest Sonne then was,
Who with King Philomene, Pollidamas,
King Esdras, and Aeueas valiantly
Against the Grecians went, and on them set
With courage stout, resolu'd that day to die
In their defence, o [...] honor great to get,
Vpon their deadly and inveterate foes,
As't pleased God the victorie to dispose,
And furiously the onset on them gaue.
Where Paris with his Persian Archers shot,
Vpon the Greeks so swiftly and so braue,
That soone he had advantage on them got:
And they compelled were in extreame need
To flie to saue themselues. Till Diomede
Perceauing them so fast to run away,
T' [...]eleiue them like a stout and valiant Knight,
Did turne them backe againe, and made them stay
Still in the field, and valiantly to fight:
And at his entring in amongst them met
King Philomene, on whome he fiercely set.
Who brauely vnto him did likewise ride,
Where each of them the other did assaile,
And valiantly their strengths and valors tride [...]
But neither gainst the other could prevaile,
And yet they fought most furiously and long,
For both of them were passing stout and strong,
And would not yeeld one [...]o [...] vnto his foe,
So much they did in courage great excell.
But while they were together fighting so,
The Troyans fought so furiously and fell
Against the Greeks, that they could not sustaine
Their mightie blows, but forced were againe
To run out of the field discomforted,
(Though Diomede did what he could to stay
And succour them) so many of them dead,
And wounded sorevpon the plaine then lay,
And cast out many a great and woefull crie.
The which when Duke Menestes did espie,
And saw what great disorder they were in,
And how the Troyans them so sore opprest,
Into the battaile fiercely did begin
To enter, and with mightie Launce in rest,
Brake through the Troyans ranks, till that he was
So farre, that he met with Pollidamas.
Gainst whome at vnawares he ran so fast,
That with a blow which he at him let flie,
Vpon the ground he did him fiercely cast:
And while that he amaz'd thereon did lie,
Had slaine him, if with speed he had not beene
Relieu'd and rescued by King Philomen.
Who brauely in despight of all the force
And might Menestes had, did set him free,
And made him mount againe vpon his horse,
Sore bleeding and in great extreamitie:
Meane time fierce Thelmon Aiax carelesly,
Vnarmed, with great pride (yet foolishly)
Amongst the thickst of all his armed foes,
Nere ceast to kill and mightily to wound
The Troyans, and such valor great then shoes,
That they in heaps lay dead vpon the ground
About him, and none durst against him stand,
So fierce he was with bloudy fword in hand,
To kill and beat them downe still as he road:
And yet though in the midst of them he was,
And that so many thousands him with stood
On euery side, as he through them did passe;
No [...] any part of him was perished,
Nor drop of bloud out of his body shed.
Which woonder was, considering how that he
Disarmed fought. But when dame Fortune will
Preserue and keepe man from extreamitie,
Nothing can hurt, nor him by no meanes kill:
And yet when as she list shee'le him beguile,
And play and sport with him a little while:
And sodainly when he thinkes least thereon,
Ore-turne her wheele, and cast him on the ground.
As she that day did vnto Thelamon,
Who to his cost her most vnconstant found:
For as he mongst the Troyans with great pride,
Disarmed through their ranks did fiercely ride,
And many of the Persian Archers slew,
With heart cleane voyd of any feare or dread,
And more and more with furie did renew
His force, and to his safetie tooke no heed:
Paris perceauing his great hardinesse,
And how he did the Persian knights oppresse,
In great despight an arrow at him shot,
And with the same (as he did fiercely ride,
Still killing all he met, and spar'd them not)
Pierst him at vnawares into the side,
So deepe a wound, that without remedie,
There was no other meanes but he must die.
Which when he did perceiue, and saw no way
T'avoid his death, with heart surpriz'd with ire,
In furious wise he made no more delay,
But running through the prease with great desire
To be reveng'd on Paris ere he died,
Sought him so long, till at the last he spied
Him mongst the thickst of all the Greeks in fight,
And vnto him (with pale and deadly cheare,
But yet with extreame rage and great despight,
To thinke vpon his death that drew so neare:)
Said, Paris, the wound which thou hast giuen me,
I know and certaine am my death will be.
For I do feele such extreame griefe and paine
Within my heart, that I am well assur'd,
I neuer shall returne to Greece againe.
And sith that thou my death hast thus procur'd,
I meane to giue thee such reward therefore,
That thou aliue to Troy shalt nere go more:
For as the great despight well meriteth,
Which thou shewst me, ile make thee first to feele
(Ere that I die) the bitter pangs of death,
And send thee down before me into hell:
And therefore make account thy glasse is run,
And that thou canst thy death as now not shun.
For here my troth I plight and firmely vow,
That with my sword ile make diuorse betweene
Queene Helena and thee, and that as now
The chaine of fained wedlocke that hath beene
So surelie made and knit twixt her and thee,
Shall now at last be cut in twaine by me.
And that false knot of thy adulterie,
(Which hath beene cause such slaughter great to make,
And made so many valiant knights to die
In this our warre, and onlie for thy sake)
Shall be vnknit [...] for without remedy,
Paris (said he) of my hand thou shalt die.
And with his sword (scarse able to sustaine
Himselfe vpright) gaue Paris such a wound,
That with the same he cleft his head in twaine,
And therewith he fell dead vpon the ground:
Which hauing done, he likewise presently
Fell downe and died to beare him company.
Which when the Troyans saw, with dolefull cheare
They tooke vp Paris body, to convay
The same to Troy, and in a mighty feare
Began to flie, where all along the way
The Greeks did kill, pursue, & beat them downe,
Even to the walls and trenches of the towne.
And more had done, but that it did begin
To draw to night, for then the Sun was downe.
And when the woefull Troyans were gone in,
And had secur'd themselues within the towne:
The Greeks likewise retired backe, and went
Vnto their Campe, each man into his tent
To ease themselues, but ere (as't them behou'd)
They tooke their rest, that night Agamemnon
Commanded that their tents should be remou'd,
And set and placed neerer to the towne,
Not farre off from the walls: and so they were,
Which put the Troyans in no little feare.
So that they durst not issue out to let
And hinder them from doing it, but glad
To saue themselues; shut fast their gates, and set
Watch all that night vpon the walls, and made
Such sorrow, and so pittifully far'd
For Paris death, that nere the like was heard.
For by that meanes all Priams sons being slaine,
They did despaire and out of hope cleane were
Of any comfort, or release t'obtaine
In their distresse: and so possest with feare,
And plunged in most great extreamitie,
They made account there was no remedie,
Nor any meanes to aid themselues withall,
(But still expecting their destruction)
To keepe themselues enclos'd within the wall
And rampiers of their strong and mightie towne:
And for that cause most pittiouslie complaind,
And so great woe and sorrow then sustaind,
That nere the like was heard nor seene before.
But specially King Priam did so grieue,
For Paris death, and did lament therefore
So mightilie, that nothing could relieue
Nor comfort him, and from his heart which fild
With woe and care then was, such teares distild,
And let fall downe his checkes and aged face,
That he did seeme as if he would haue died.
To tell you how in this most wofull case,
Queene Hecuba his mother wept and cried:
And what exceeding sorrow for their parts
His sisters made, and felt within their hearts:
And how they rent and tare their clothes & haire,
And beat and smote their breasts in great distresse,
And all bedewd and wet their faces faire
With flouds of teares, t'expresse their heauinesse:
Were vnto me a thing impossible.
And yet in truth it was not comparable,
To that which faire Queene Helena did make,
Who with a deadly cheare and wofull face,
Cast forth most dolefull cries for Paris sake,
And running furiouslie vnto the place
Whereas his body lay, fell flat thereon,
And though that it was cold as any stone,
Embrast it in her armes, and wofully
Lamenting on the same fell in a sound,
And likely was in that extreamitie
To die, and t'haue beene laid into the ground
With him, if those that were with her, by force
And strength had not pul'd her off frō the corse,
Wherewith she rent and tare her golden haire,
Like one that's mad, & waxt so pale and wan,
That her most comelie face which was so faire,
Chang'd in such sort, that it therewith began
To looke and show like vnto ashes cold.
And with her hands which she did ring & fold
Together, smote her white and deadly face,
And sounding fell againe vpon the ground,
And in her armes did Paris corse embrace,
And with her brinish teares did fill his wound:
And was so much perplexed in her mind,
That she could neither ease nor comfort find.
But rather seem'd to wish with great desire
To die with him, in whome her sole delight
Was placed, and in that most furious ire,
To end her daies with her most louing Knight,
And liue no more; sith that she was bereft
Of him, and in such great discomfort left.
So that I may well say, that neuer any
Poore woman felt the like nor more distresse,
Although I could rehearse and tell of many,
That haue been plunged in great heauinesse,
As Cleopatre going to her graue.
And Thesbie, that did come out of the caue,
And smote her selfe for griefe into the heart.
And Oristilla, who no sooner spied
Her Lord take shipping and from her depart,
Sore grieu'd for loue of him fell downe and died:
And Iulia that lou'd her Lord so well,
That sodenly dead on the ground she fell,
When she beheld his cloaths all dasht with blood.
And Portia that was so true a wife
To Brutus, that when as she vnderstood
That he was slaine, because she had no knife
In readinesse to kill herselfe withall,
To show her loue into the fire did fall
And burnt herselfe. And that most noble Queene
Cald Arthemisia, who when she had found
Her Knight Mausalus graue, and there had seene
His bones, did take them vp out of the ground:
And with an heart repleat with griefe and care,
Vnto her Pallace solemnly them bare.
And beating them to powder, every day
Did drinke thereof, till it was cleane consum'd.
Who with the rest aforesaid I must say,
(And as in truth it is to be presum'd.)
No doubt great griefe endur'd, but not so much
As faire Queene Helen did, nor nothing such.
Who would haue kild her selfe for Paris sake,
Desiring to her graue with speed to go,
And rather of her life an end to make,
Then to liue after him she loued so:
And languishing in woe long time remaind,
And never could from weeping be restaind.
(He that doth say that women cannot cry,
Deceaues himselfe, for tis a thing most sure
They can by nature doo't, and certainly,
Though they no griefe nor sorrow do endure;
Yet they can false and fained teares distraine
Out of their eies, & without cause complaine.)
I say not this Queene Helena t'accuse
Of fained teares, whose heart with woe was fild,
For then I should you with vntruth abuse,
For she for griefe her selfe would faine haue kild:
And yet it seemes she was not in such hast
As she made shew; for when the storme was past,
She soone forgot the great extreamitie
That she was in, for all things haue an end,
And every woe how great so ere it be,
Must passe away, for follie't were to spend
Long time in that which may be remedied.
For though that faire Queene Helen would haue died
For Paris sake as then, yet afterward
She did repent, for nature did her moue,
And told her that it was a thing too hard
For her so soone to kill her selfe for loue:
She was a woman, what would you haue more,
She thought it folly great to die therefore.
But I will speake no more hereof as now,
For it would be too long and teadious
For me to shew and to declare to you,
Her grieuous woe and passions furious,
And all her dolefull lamentation:
The which would moue vnto compassion
The hardest heart aliue to heare it told.
For Priam and Queene Hecuba likewise,
Such pitty had to see, and to behold
Her shead such flouds of teares out of her eies,
And in such fort to grieue and to complaine,
That they almost endured as much paine
Within their hearts for her, as she had had
For Paris, but there was no remedy.
But to conclude, when they an end had made
Of all their woe, King Priam speedily
Did cause a rich and costly sepulchre,
To be set vp in Iunoes Temple, where
Most sumptuóusly, and in their Paynim wise
His bodie was entomb'd, but to declare
The manner of the great solemnities
Then vsed at their funerals, (which are
So many and so diuers) it would be
Too long to be declared now by me.

CHAP. VI.

¶ How Panthasilia Queene of the Amazons, com­ming to ayd the Troyans against the Grecians, sh [...] obtained great honor, and was slaine by Pyrrhus the So [...]e of Achilles.

KIng Priamus in doubt of his estate,
(And brought into most great extreamity
By fortune, and his hard and cruell fate,)
When he perceiu'd no other remedie,
Shut fast the gates of Troy, and day and night
Kept watch and ward as strongly as he might.
For all the Troyans generally were
So much abasht, and did such sorrow make
For Paris death, that they could not forbeare
To weepe and waile, and durst not vndertake,
Against the Greeks to fight nor issue out,
But kept within the towne in feare and doubt,
Expecting nought, but finally to end
Their daies in woe. Which when the Greeks did see.
Agamemnon to Priamus did send
A messenger t'intreat with him (as he
Before had done) to issue with his might
Out of the towne, against the Greeks to fight.
But Priamus the motion did detest,
And flatly said it was not his intent,
To issue out of Troy at his request:
And that he was most resolutely bent,
Not once to set one foot out of the towne,
But when he list without compulsion.
And yet the cause why he so long time staid
From issuing out against the Grecians,
Was, for because he did expect some ayd
From Panthasilia Queene of Amazons:
Who at that time was comming with great speed
And mighty force, to helpe him in his need.
Whose Countrie (as some Authors say) did stand
Farre distant in the orientall part,
Twixt Asia and Europe. In which Land
None else but women-kind did dwell, whose art
And chiefe delight, and onelie exercise,
Was managing of armes in warlike wise,
And valiantly into the field to ride,
Arm'd at all points against their enemie,
Mongst whom no man might by no meanes abide,
Nor they with them at any time did lie
But three months in the yeare, which as they say,
Was in the months of Aprill, Iune, and May.
At which time setting armes and wars aside,
They went into an Isle not farre from thence,
Wherein their men did all alone abide,
Of purpose, and with full and sole pretence
To lie with them, and till they did conceaue
And were with child, did not that I sland leaue.
And after time of their conception,
They did in hast and with all speed returne
Into the Couotry where they dwelt, which done,
When as the child into the world was borne,
They nourisht it three months, & at the end
Thereof, ift were a sonne, they did it send
Vnto the Isle whereas the men remaind:
And if it were a female child, they hold
And keepe it still by them, and it sustaind
And nourished, till that it waxed old,
And was of yeares and strength to vse & weare
An armor, and to mannage sword and speare,
According to their ancient Country fashion.
And at that time Queene Panthasilia was
The Soveraigne Commander of that Nation,
Who did so much in valor great surpasse:
That for her puissant force the trump of fame,
Throughout the world eternized her name,
And yet although she did addict her mind
To practise armes, & mannage sword & speare,
(Which is a thing not vs'd by women-kind)
For wisedome, and for vertue she did beare
The praise and commendation, for none ever
Surpassed her for modesty what s'ever.
The reason that did mooue her then to aid
The Troyans was, for that in heart she bare
Affection great to Hector, and tis said,
Lou'd him so well that all her thought and care,
Her onely ioy, her pleasure and delight
Was in him, cause he was so braue a Knight.
And therefore when as by report she heard,
The Towne of Troy besieged was, and how
The Greeks and Troyans gainst each other ward:
She did protest and made a solemne vow
To go to Troy, and with her force and might,
For loue of Hector gainst the Greeks to fight.
And with her tooke a thousand maids that were
Well armed, and on horses braue did ride,
Who gallantly could mannagesword & speare,
And well durst gainst their foes in field abide▪
And to that end set forward with all speed,
To helpe her deare friend Hector in his need.
But when she came to Troy, and vnderstood
That valiant knight in that great warre was dead,
And that as then she could do him no good,
A flood of teares out of her eies she shead:
And did such extreame sorrow for him make,
As if she would haue dyed for his sake.
And tooke a solemne oath reveng'd to be
Vpon the Greeks therefore, and to that end
She did desire King Priamus that he.
His Troyan force into the field would send:
With whome (she said) the Amazons should go,
To shew the Greeks what they in armes could do.
And how with speare & sheild the could thē greet,
And make them feele their force and worthines
In armes, when they with thē in field should meet:
To whose request made with great hardines,
King Priamus did grant with good advise.
And next day when the Sun began to rise,
And on the wals and towers of Troy did shene,
Sent all his Troyan Knights out of the towne
Against the Greeks, led by King Philomene,
Commander of the knights of Phaflagowne:
And next to him Aeneas brauely led
The second band, well stuft and furnished
With warlike knights. And then Pollidamas
Conductor of another band did ride,
And after them in order forth did passe
Queene Panthasilia guarded on each side
By Amazons, with courage stout and bold:
Whom when the Grecian armie did behold,
To issue forth in battaile brauely plast,
They likewise gainst them marcht into the field,
And first of all Menestes in great hast,
With mighty speare the which in rest he held,
Against the Queene of Amazons did ride:
Whose comming she most stoutly did abide,
And did encounter him with such a force,
That with her Launce to ground she did him cast,
And forcibly did seaze vpon his horse:
And as she further mongst the Grecians past,
King Diomede vpon her fiercely set,
And she as fiercely with him also met,
And puissan [...]lie strake him so great a blow,
That notwithstanding all his force and might,
She did him cleane out of his sadle throw,
And therewithall vnto his great despight,
Layd hand vpon his shield, and took't away
Perforce from him, and all that durst say nay.
And then like Tygar fell with greedines,
Throughout the field road ranging vp & downe,
And as a fierce and hungry Lyonesse,
Slew many of the Greeks, till Thelamon
Beholding what a slaughter then she made
Of them, such indignation thereat had,
And into such exceeding rage did fall,
That he did set vpon her furiously:
But she no whit abashed therewithall,
Let flie at him againe as valiantly:
And spight of all the Greeks that bout him were,
By force did him out of his sadle beare.
And by the aid of stout King Philomene,
Layd hold on him, and caus'd him to be led
To Troy-ward, and without all doubt had cleane
Ore-throwne the Greeks as then, if Diomed
With many Grecian knights had not assaild
The Troyans, and so much gainst them preuaild,
That ere that they led Thelamon away,
He rescued him out of their hands with speed:
Yet after that the Queene all that same day,
So furiously the Grecians blood did shed,
That many of them cruelly were slaine,
And by her and her maidens all the plaine
Was cov'red ore with Greeks, that wounded sore
Lay crying out, and they at last compeld
Thereto by force (because they could no more
Sustaine her mightie blowes) to leaue the field,
And run into the strond in mightie feare:
Whereas by her so many of them were
In furious wise beat downe and slaine out right,
That finally they had beene all ore-throwne,
If Diomede most like a valiant knight,
Had not his prowesse great at that time showne,
And forciblie resistance made gainst all
The Troyans power, for he stood like a wall
And bulwarke strong in their defence and aid,
And freed them from all extreamitie
And feare wherein as then they were, and staid
The force and furie of the Queene. Yet she
So valiantly behau'd her selfe that day,
That with great honor she went thence away.
And did returne againe with victorie,
Triumphing with her maids vnto the Towne,
And so left fighting with the enemie,
About the time of Ph [...]bus going downe,
And entred with King Philomene that road
Close by her. Where King Priamus abode
To welcome her, and with great reverence,
In Princely wise receaued her, and gaue
Her hearty thanks for th'aid and great defence
She had vouchsafed him that day, to saue
His honor, and to show her worthinesse:
Wherein (he said) he could not but confesse
That she exceld all others what so ere.
And offring her his gold and treasure great,
And all things else that necessary were,
For to refresh her and her maids, he let
Her take her rest, in hope through her to be
Revenged of his Grecian enemie,
And all the wrongs and malice to require,
Which he long had endured at their hand.
For after that she ceased not to fight
Against the Greeks, and daily to withstand
Their power so well, that they were still cōpeld
With losse and great disgrace to leaue the field.
Till Menelaus returned backe againe
From Lyco [...]edes Land, and with him brought
Yong Pyrrhus son t'Achilles (that was slaine
In Troy by Paris hand, and treason wrought
By Hecuba) whose comming did reioyce
The Grecians much, for they all with one voyce
Did welcome him, and were exceeding glad
To see him, and because he was the son
And heire vnto Achilles, he was made
Commander of the Myrmidons. Which done,
And homage made to him by full accord
Of all his knights, as to their Soueraigne Lord:
King Agamemnon did create him Knight,
And t'honor him the more, King Thelamon
Did gird his sword about him (as the right
And custome was) and when he put it on,
Said vnto him, good Cousin Pyrrhus see,
Thou prou'st in time as good a knight to bee
As ere thy father was. For truth to tell,
While mongst vs he enioyed vitall breath,
He did all men for valor great exceed [...]
And see likewise that thou revenge his death.
And after that, two Grecian Dukes did kneele
Vpon the ground, and put on either heele
A spur of beaten gold, and when that all
The ceremonies vsuall ended were,
King Agamemnon openly did call
For th'arinor which Achilles vs'd to beare
Vpon hi [...] backe, when he in field did fight,
And gaue it vnto Pyrrhus as his right,
With all his treasure and his tent, that was
Left in the Grecian campe when he was dead.
And after that they had for eight daies space,
Throughout the Grecian hoast solemnized
A royall feast, to shew the ioy they had
Conceiu'd for Pyrrhus, that then knight was made.
The next day after when as Phaebus bright,
(Which spreadeth forth his radiāt beams so far,)
Had driuen away the browne and obscure night,
And cleane defast the beauty of the star
Cald Lucifer, which commonly men say
And tearme to be the messenger of day.
They did prepare themselues againe to fight,
And with the Troyans in the field to meet,
Determining with all their force and might
That day to shew their valors, and to set
On them, and to assaile them on each side:
And to that end out of their tents did ride
In order brauely plast, where Pyrrhus bare
His fathers warlike armes vpon his shield,
And his Coat-Armor also which he ware:
And in that sort road formost to the field,
Well horst. Where he no sooner entred was,
But he encountred with Pollidamas.
Whom with his sword in hand he fircely smot,
And he the like did vnto him againe.
But Pyrrhus on him such advantage got,
That he was in great danger to be slaine
By him as then, if that King Phylomen
Had not come thither t'aid him with his men.
But Pyrrhus smote king Phylomen a blow
Vpon the helmet with such extreame force,
That sore amaz'd, he was constraind to bow,
And bend his body backward on his horse,
And without doubt had tane him prisoner then,
If he had not been holpen by his men.
Who to relieue and saue him, fiercely fought,
And stroue against the Greeks, but nerethelesse,
The valor great they shew'd, availd them nought:
For Pyrrhus on them did so strongly presse
With Myrmidons, that they could not sustaine
His fierce assault, but many of them were slaine.
And beaten downe, whereby King Phylomene,
Still was and stood in danger great to die,
Or to be tane, if that he had not beene
Somewhat relieu'd in that extreamitie
By stout Pollidamas, that fiercely fought
To succour him, but it availd him nought,
For at that time the Myrmidons did fight
So furiously, and with such valor great,
That he could not (to his no little spight)
Relieue him, nor out of that danger set:
Till Panthasilia comming furiously
Vpon the Greeks assaild them valiantly.
And with hermaidens (who for their delight
That day did issue forth into the field,
With Cassocksore their armors all of white)
So hote a skirmish with the Grecians held,
And did so many of them fiercely slay,
That they constrained were to giue her way.
For who so ere he was that with her met
Was sure to die, till Thelmon vnaware,
With furie great vpon her fiercely set,
And with his Launce out of her sadle bare
Her to the ground, and laid her on the plaine:
But she no whit abasht ro [...]e vp againe,
And with her sword gaue Thelamon a blow
That feld him to the ground, & then by force
Her Amazons their valors great to show,
Despight of all the Greeks, brought her an horse,
And made her mount thereon. But nerethelesse
The Myrmidons on Phylomene did presse
So hotely and so sore, that all the might
And force his men in his behalfe could sho,
Did nought availe, for to their great despight,
They tooke him prisoner, and began to go
With him through midst of them out of the field.
Which when the Queene of Amazons beheld,
Assembling all her maids, she did begin
To follow them, and did so fiercely set
Vpon them, that with furi [...]en [...]ring in
Amongst the thickest of the presse, she beat
Them downe so fast, that she did them constraine,
Despight their hearts, to let him go againe
Out of their hands, and fought so cruelly
Against them at that time, that she compeld
Them in great hast before her face to flie,
And backward to retire out of the field:
Whose valor great, when Pyrrhus did espie,
He did begin vnto his knights to crie.
And said it was a shame for them to lose
Their liues by womens hands, and so to yeeld
Them ground, and giue occasion to their foes
To scorne them, and by them to be held
As cowards, that could not the force withstand
Of women, if they did not take in hand
With speed to daunt their pride, and kill them all,
And by that meanes requite them for the shame
They had endur'd by them, and therewithall
T'encourage them forthwith to do the same,
With sword in hand, and with a knightlie cheare
Before thē marcht. Whō when the Queen did here
In that sort to his knights to crie, she staid
Her horse, (and scorning once to turne her backe,
Or of his threatning words to be affraid,)
With courage stout and bold vnto him speake,
And said, Pyrrhus, I know thy father well
Slew Hector, that all others did excell
Throughout the world for peerelesse chivalrie,
Not fighting with him like a valiant knight,
But vnawares, and by false treachery,
Before that he of him had any sight:
Which traiterous act my hart doth so much grieue,
That I shall thinke vpon it while I liue.
And for the same my heart perswadeth me,
That iust revenge without exception,
Should therefore first be taken vpon thee,
And also in like sort on every one
That vnto thee allied are by bloud:
For loue of that most valiant knight & good▪
Whose death the world cānot enough complaine,
And for that cause men do not onlie take
Revenge therefore, but women do maintaine
His quarrell, and haue vowed for his sake,
As right requires without exception,
To put the same in execution.
Vnto which end here now before thy face
I stand, and readie am to trie thy might,
For to reuenge his death here in this place:
And sith thou hast at women such a spight,
Thou shalt soone find by good experience
What we can do, and how in our defence
We can both weld a sword and warlike speare,
Which thou shalt try by shedding of thy blood
Here in the field without all dread or feare.
Which words when Pyrrhus heard, he waxt as wood
As any Lyon fierce when men him chase,
And then with colour pale and angry face,
He tooke a speare and ran at her amaine,
And she likewise (of him no whit in feare)
Encountred with him brauelie in the plaine,
Where Pyrrhus first vpon her brake his speare,
But mou'd her not, she did so firmely sit,
But she did him so sure and strongly hit,
That with her Launce she did him overthrow,
And made him fall downe flat vpon the plaine,
At which his heart with rage did overflow,
And rising on his feet an great disdaine,
With sword in hand strake at her many a blow,
But she still firmely sat, and did not bow:
And in exchange gaue him the like againe,
And often made him kneele vpon the ground,
And in that sort the fight betweene them twaine
Continued long, and no advantage found
On either side, till Pyrrhus knights came on
And brought his horse, & made him mount theron▪
And then the Generall Agamemnon
With banners rich and pennons braue displaid,
Marcht forward, & into the field came on,
With many Earles, Dukes, & Kings to ayd
And second him, and to assaile their foes,
Whose entry made the Troyan knights to lose
Their grouud, they were so fiercely followed,
And hotely charged by the Grecians,
Till Philomen them brauely rescued,
And by that meanes relieu'd the Troyans,
And ioyning with the Queene the Greeks assaild,
And at that time so much gainst them preuaild,
That by main force they made thē lose their groūd,
And then great store of knights on either side
Were staine out right, & many more were found
That wounded sore with gastly voices cride,
And yeelded vp their breath, and many a she [...]d
And helmet broke and cleft, lay in the field.
And many a horse ran ma [...]erlesse about,
And such a noise of Drums & Trumpets shrill,
And cries of men was heard the field throughout,
And with the sound thereof the aire did fill▪
That fearefull't was to heare and to behold,
How on each side with courage stout and bold
And most confused noise, they slew each other.
Where th' Amazons conducted by their Queene,
Assaild the Greeks so furiously together,
That all the field the which before was greene,
Was turn'd into a faire and crimson red,
With blood of Greeks which by them then was shed.
Who seconded by stout Pollidamas,
King Esdras, and Aeneas, and the rest
Of Pr [...]s force, which then all entred was
Into the field, vpon the Grecians prest
So valiantlie, that they were forst to lose
Their ground, and to giue place vnto their foes.
And would haue fled if Pyrrhus had not been,
Who onlie by his valor made them stay,
And kild so many of the Troyans men,
That they were glad to get out of his way.
But Panthasilia brauelie did with stand
Both him and all the Greeks, and by her hand
And extreame force the Troyans did relieue,
And kild so many Greeks on euery side,
And vnto them such mightie wounds did giue,
That they durst not her puissant blows abide:
And in that fore those Champions fierce & bold,
The fight in equall ballance long did hold.
Till Pyrrhus with the Troyan Glaucon met,
That brother was vnto Pollidamas,
Anthenors son, and on him fiercely set,
To whome at vnawares as he did passe
By him, he gaue a wound into the side
So deepely, that he there fell downe and died.
Wherewith Queene Panthasilia fiercely ran
To Pyrrhus, and did brauely on him set,
At which time such a cruell fight began
Betweene them both, when they together met:
That with their swords in furious wise by force,
They beat each other downe off from his horse.
And so on foot fought valiantly and long,
Without advantage gotten on either side,
Till that the Greeks and Troyans with a throng
Of knights by force betweene them both did ride
And parted them: and then Pollidamas
(Whose heart with griefe & wrath possessed was
For Glaucons death) vpon the Grecians ran,
And without mercie or compassion had
Of any one, beat downe both horse and man,
And with the Queene so great a slaughter made
Of them at that same time, that they compeld
Them spight their hearts to flie, out of the field
Vnto their tents: vntill that Diomed,
And Thelamon, with Pyrrhus, turn'd them backe,
And once againe into the field them led:
Where for a while they did resistance make,
And fought againe till that it drew to night,
At which time when they could no longer fight
For wearinesse: When Phoebus gan to hide
Her glistering beames, and Westward to descend,
(With greatest▪ losse vpon the Grecians side)
They did from fighting cease, and made an end
Of that daies bloudie battaile, with desire
To rest themselues, as time then did require.
And so they did [...] next day gan t'appeare,
When as with courage great each side began
To enter in the field, and without feare,
In furious wise slew many a valiant man:
And for a month ensuing every day,
From fighting in the field did never stay.
But who did best, or had the victory
In all that time, there is no mention made,
Nor yet what men of note therein did die,
But onely that Queene Panthasilia had
One hundred of her women therein lost,
For which she said, it should her dearely cost,
But she would be revenged for the same
Vpon the Greeks, if Fortune favourable
Would be to her, but she (that beares the name
To be so fickle, false, and variable,
That no man can his trust in her repose,)
By turning of her wheele did make her lose
Her life, when as she was in highst degree
Of honors throne, presuming that her soes
Nere should bereaue her of it. But you▪ see
That when it is Gods pleasure to dispose▪
Of man, and of his actions none can't shun,
For what he hath decreed must be done.
For that when many battailes had been fought,
And Greeks and Troyans long and furiously,
Had slaine and spoild each others power, & sought
On either side to win the victorie▪
And that Queene Panthasilia brauely had
Behau'd her selfe in many fights, and made
Such slaughter of the Greeks, that for the same
They feared her, and shun'd her in the fight,
And by that meanes had much encreast her fame:
With heart that was possest with great despight
That she had lost so many maidens so.
In furious wise into the field did go,
One day betimes vpon the Greeks to set,
With full intent to be reveng'd therefore,
And in the battaile first with Pyrrhus met▪
Who cause he her, and she him hated so,
With courage stout she spurd her gallant steed
So hard, that she did make his sides to bleed.
And ran at him, and he at her likewise,
And with their puissant speares set in their rests,
And countenances sterne, and wrathfull eyes,
Directly aymed at each others brest,
And gaue each vnto other such a stroke,
That both their speares in many peeces broke.
But neither of them fell vnto the ground,
Not once within their sadles bowd or bent
And yet the Queene gaue Pirrhus such a wound
With her speare head into the brest, that went
Cleane thrugh his armes that he therwith bled sore,
Which when the Grecians saw, they were therfore
So grieu'd, that with hideous noyse they crid,
And like to swarmes of Bees vpon her fell,
And did enclose her round on euery side.
But she did fight against them all so well,
And valiantly, that they did her admire,
And spight their hearts she made thē back retire.
Whereby long time it was ere they could get
Or haue aduantage on her, till at last
Being sore opprest and round about beset,
So thicke by them, that they smot her as fast
As Smiths vpon an Anuile head, they broke
Her helmet, and with many a cruell stroke
Of axes, swords, and other weapons, tare
And rent her armes, and cleft her shield in twaine,
Whereby her shoulders naked were and bare,
Yet nerethelesse she did the fight maintaine
Against them all, so long and valiantly,
That many Greeks dead at her feet did lie.
Till Pirrhus wounded as before is sayd,
And feeling so great anguish smart and paine
Within his heart, that he was sore afraid
To die thereof, in hast ran to the plaine,
Intending whatsoere of him became,
To be reuenged on her for the same.
Whom when she saw come running in such hast,
And doubting she by him should be assayld,
She turnd about, and to him made as fast,
And with her sword first strake at him, but faild
To hit him, for the Greeks on her did come
So thicke and fast that she could haue no roome
To lift and weld her sword aboue her head,
But he smot her a blow with mighty force,
And cut her arme cleane off wherewith she bled
So sore, that she fell dead off from her horse.
And not contented therewithall to shew
His cruelty, he did her body hew
And mangle with his sword in peeces small,
And yet the blood did run out of his wound
So fast▪ that he constrained was to fall,
As if he had been dead vpon the ground:
Where groueling in a trance awhile he lay,
Till that his Knights did beare him thence away
Vpon a shield, with sad and heauy cheare;
Sore bleeching, and deepe wounded to his tent.
But when the Amasoman Maids did heare
Their Queene was slaine, in furious wise they went
(Like vnto women desperate and mad,
And as if of their liues no care they had.
Among the thickest of the Greeks, and then
So cruesly assayld them that they slew
Two thousand of their best and brauest men▪
And did the fight more terrible renew
Then it had been all that day long before,
And fought that time so desperarely and sore,
That wonder t'was that women could endure
To do so much, but all to little end
When they had lost her that could them secure,
And by her valor great did them defend▪
As being she who onely and alone
For worthines inferior was to none.
For both they and the Troians then were in
Such danger great for want of one to guide
Them in the field, that they did all begin
Like sheepe disperst to run on euery side:
And scatteringly for their defence to stand,
To keepe themselues out of the Grecians hand.
Who then so furiously vpon them ran,
With full pretence their losses to require;
That they dismaid to saue themselues began
To make retrait, wherein with great despight
The Grecians did ten thousand of them slay,
And they to Troy-ward from them fled away.
For all the Grecians then at once came on
Vpon them, & whosoeuer them withstood
Were by them slaine without exception;
But specially the Amazons, whose blood
They chiefest sought to spill, because they had
Together with their Queene such slaughter [...]ad
Of them while she did liue, for she alone
A terror was to them, and therefore they
Without all mercy or compassion▪
In great despight did them so fiercely slay:
And draue the Troians fore them to the towne,
And neuer ceast to kill, and beat them downe.
Till they in mighty feare and great distresse
Got in, and after them their gates did close,
Being out of hope (as men cleane comfortles,)
Of euer fighting more against their foes
In open field, sith their best knights were slaine,
And therefore thinking it to be in vaine
For them to issue [...]orth, they purposed
To keepe themselues close in their towne, as then
Impregnable, (if it were furnished
As they supposd of victualls and of men.)
And able to resist and hold out all
The forces of the world, though they should fall
Vpon it all at once. But for all that
The Greeks no whit despayring at the last
To win it, set strong watch at euery gate,
And sentinels to see that no man past
Out of the towne, no [...] victualls were conuaid
Into't, while they in siedge before it staid.
And they within the towne great sorrow made
For Panthesillias sake, who valiantly
In their defence against the Grecians, had
By Pyrrhus hand been slaine, but specially
Because that they could find no meanes to haue
Her mangled corps, to bury it in a graue
With honor which thereto did appertaine.
And to that end sent to the Greeks to pray,
And to entreat them for't, but all in vaine,
For mooued sore they flatly said them nay,
And swore and vou'd with protestations great,
That they nere should her body from them get.
But to despight and grieue them sayd, it should
Be throwne to dogs, and fowles of th'aire to be
Deuourd and torne by them, before they would
Showd so great sauor to their enemie,
To whom they did so deadly hatred beare.
But though that they to her so cruell were,
Yet Pyrrhus somewhat milder then the rest,
Would not consent vnto such cruelty:
And said to them, that he did thinke it best
To giue her body to the enemy.
But Diomede sayd plainely to them all,
That she had not deserued buriall,
That in her life had slaine so many men▪
And in that sort they stroue and did contend
With many words about the same, but when
They had long argu'd mongst themselues, in th'end
They all agreed, and did the body take
Despightfully, and cast it in a lake
Or pond of water, nere vnto the towne.
Wherein let it consume and rot away
While vnto you at large I doe setdowne
What they did in the towne of Troy, that lay
Enclosd therein. But first I must complaine
Of thee oh Mars, that mad'st them to sustaine
Such extreame losse, and by thy furious ire
Didst cleane consume the worthy Troian blood▪
Why didst thou with insatiable desire,
Slay all their Knights, & gainst them was so wood▪
And furiously bent, as to let fall
Thy vengance vpon them in generall?
To make them as a Myrror and a show
To all the world, of thy great cruelty?
But tis most true as euery man doth know,
Thy nature giuen to all hostility,
Is th'onely cause of strife and of debate,
Because thou art a starre vnfortunate:
Hot, hatefull, drie, fiery, combustious,
Wrathfull, and giuen vnto dissention,
The onely ground of malice, enuious,
And cholericke of thy complexion:
That dost in death and murther take delight,
And vpon vengance setst thine appetite:
First motioner of anger and of hate,
The causer of contention and of warre,
The root of all dissention in each state,
That moouest men to wrangle, fight, & iarre:
Fearefull of looke and gastly to mans sight,
Whose radiant beams shine as the lightning bright▪
And twinkle like to sparkles burning red,
Which from great fiers mount vp into the skie,
And round about the aire themselues do spred,
Consuming such as by melancholy
Within their hearts, fowle enuy do embrace,
Giuing to them in whom thy wrath takes place,
Of shape to be tall, slender, leane, and small,
Browne haired, pasle, and sallow coloured,
Vnmercifull, addicted vnto all
Bad qualities, to evill easly led:
Craftie, deceitfull, and ingenious,
Backbiting, slaunderous, and malicious;
Sad, sullen, and still full of heauines,
Inclined vnto theft, and robbery,
Consenting vnto all accursednes,
To murther, death, and to fowle trechery:
Wholy without remorse of conscience;
And art so mischievous of influence,
That thou of treason author art mong men,
In scorpion thy chiefest mansion is,
And raignest King in Capricorne, but when
In Taur [...]s thou art plast, then thou dost misse
Of power, strength, and all Dominion
Thou also hast in thy subiection.
Warre, exile, [...]etters, and imprisonment,
Bondage, proscription, banishment, and all
The miseries, and mischiefes that are bent
On earth, and chance vpon mankind to fall.
Which for to gnaw poore Troy vnto the bones,
Thou didst on it powre them out all at ones.
I cannot chuse but for the great despight
Which thou to Troy didst beare, condemne thee much,
For if that men consider it aright,
It may be sayd there nere was any such:
Nor so great vengance tane for any thing
Gainst land or towne as thou on Troy didst bring:
As first to kill and spoyle them by their foes,
And to consume their Knights by fier and sword,
Then in their towne as prisoners vp to close
And shut them fast, and no meanes them aford,
To be relieu'd with victualls, or go out,
Besieged by the Grecians round about.
I thinke they haue small cause in my aduise,
With bores, or bulles, beares, Lyons, Tygars fell,
Or any such wild beasts to sacrifice
To thee, (wherewith thou pleased art so well,
As being Patron of them) nor with smoke,
Of brimstone, on thine Altars to invoke
Thy name, that to them showest such cruelty,
And didst such extreame vengance on them bring,
And yet, as if thou couldest not satisfie
Thy selfe therewith, (with torments more to sting
And plague thē,) thou mad'st treason mōgst them worke,
And secretly within their hearts to lurke.
And so didst set them at diuision
Among themselues▪ whereby we plainely see,
How th'vgly serpent Discord creepeth on
And slyly slides into mans heart, till he
By tract of time hath therein gotten place,
And banished from thence all peace and grace.
With venom of his fowle dissention;
When once it spreads it selfe in any towne,
Land, common-wealth, howse, countrey, or nation
Or i [...]ens hearts of small or high renowne.
For when as men liue not in loue and peace,
All happines and ioy with them doth cease.
For where as Discord hath his residence,
And doth begin amongst men to appeare,
It's worse then any sword or pestilence:
For who are worse then foes familiar?
Or who can hurt men more if that they lust
Then enemies in whom they put their trust?
And briefely to conclude without a pause,
All trouble, mischiefe, and confusion
In any land, proceedeth from the cause
And root of hatred, and dissention.
And much more danger in the same doth lie
If it be wrought and stir'd vp secretlie:
Record whereof is to be found by Troy,
Where while that in the towne they did agree
They held the same, and did it long enioy,
Despight their foes. But when they gan to be
At strife and hatred mongst themselues, & crost
Each other, not long after it was lost.
(For without doubt, as often prooued is,
When men▪ begin together to contend,
Or that a land in't selfe deuided is,
Tis not the means them, nor their state to mend.
But rather is a certaine signe and way,
Of that same land and peoples sure decay.)
For Mars the soueraigne Lord of enmity,
(That vnto men he might his power show,
And bring Troy into all extremity,)
The seeds of Discord did among them sow.
Gainst which a man no remedy can find▪
For I am sure perswaded in my mind
That treason wrought with fained shew of peace,
(To be procur'd thereby) is worse then warre,
And more then it, all mischiefe doth encrease:
Whereof the principalst actors weere
Aeneas Duke Anchises (his old Father,)
Pollidmas, and Anthenor, who together
Among themselues did secretly agree,
And traiterously conspire with bad intent,
If that the towne of Troy should chance to bee
Tane by the Greeks (whereof they feard th'vent)
How they might saue their owne liues, goods & lands,
By some devise out of the Grecians hands.
Which if it might not be (as they did doubt
It could not be,) they ment in secret wise
(Before the vtmost danger should fall out)
To parle with the Grecian enemies.
And traitors gainst their towne of Troy to bee,
Before they would their owne subuersion see.
Or loyalty vnto their countrey yeild.
Intending rather to forget their oath
And promise made, and vowed to be held
By them while life did last, and faith and troth,
With due alleagance wholy set aside,
For them and their owne safety to prouide.
Esteeming it more wisedome to forecast,
How they for there owne good should do the same,
And bring't about before the time were past,
And rather saue their liues, thogh twere with shame.
Then foolishly to fall into a trap,
Which otherwise they might full well escape.
They though: it no disgrace nor worthy blame
For to betray the towne, so they went free
Away with goods and liues out of the same:
Nor had no care for others to agree,
But how they might vnto that thing attaine,
Which they did seeke by treason to obtaine.
And to that end they went vnto the King,
To giue him (as they sayd) some good aduise
And counsell how to bring about the thing,
Which they among themselues had by devise,
Forecast for their owne good: wherof th'effect
Was, that they wisht that he would not neglect
His owne estate, the towne, and common-weale,
By obstinately standing gainst his foes;
But rather to aduise himselfe, and deale
With them about a peace, (and not to loose
Time when it serued,) if they would graunt therto
And that to moue them better thereunto,
He would be pleasd to offer to restore
Queene Helena to Menalaus againe,
And all that he had taken from them more
In Cithera, and so he might obtaine
That at their hands, which other wise could not
By force, nor any other meanes be got.
But words and thoughts with them did not agree,
They had an other meaning and intent:
For they knew well no peace would graunted bee,
And that the Greeks nere would thereto consent
With them of Troy, whom they as then had broght
Vnto that point, that in a manner cought
Like Birds within a cage, they held them pent,
And therefore tw'as in vaine to thinke thereon:
For if the Greeks had thereto giuen consent,
And made peace on that condition,
King Priamus successors might haue raignd
Till now in Troy, and neuer had sustaind
Such losse and extreame desolation,
As after on them fell. But t'was too late
To motion that, for when Agamenon
Did by aduise of all the Grecian state,
Send messengers to Troy, from Tenadon
To offer Priam peace, vpon condition
That he should send againe▪ Queene Helena
To Menalus, and restitution make
Of all the treasure which in Cithera
Parit by force with her from thence did take.
King Priam would by no meanes hearken to't,
But obstinately sayd, he would not do't.
So that by their owne folly and their pride,
For want of good foresight and prouidence,
Peace iustly might vnto them be deni'd;
For thinke you when the Greeks with such expence
Of treasure, losse of lims, and of their Knights,
Endured had so many cruell fights.
And after many a bloody broyle orepast,
By them to bring that warre vnto an end,
They would in fine euen at the very last
Oreslip so good occasion giuen, to spend
The time in making peace when they had brought
Their foes to that which they so long had sought.
And without any recompence would leaue
Th'advantage by them gotten, and againe
Returne to Greece with losse, and cleane bereaue
Themselues of that which they with so much paine
Obtained had? it were without all sence:
For they knew well (thogh to their great expence,)
They had brought Troy to that extremity,
That it could not long gainst their force endure,
And that in fine without all remedy
They could not faile to win't, whereof being sure,
They made account to haue the victory
Against their foes without ambiguity.
So that Anthenors counsell (and all those
That with him were of that conspiracie,)
To Priam giuen, to seeke vnto his foes
To make a peace, was but meere trechery,
As it vnto King Priam well appeard,
When he from thē first motion therof heard.
For when he with his sonne Amphimachus,
And many of his Lords in counsell were.
Anthenor and his friends mou'd Priamus
To seeke for peace, the which when he did heare:
In pollicy before he would consent
Or graunt thereto, he askt them what they ment,
To motion it, and sayd before that he
Did enter into parle with his foes,
He would with more aduise instructed be
How't should be done. Wherewith Anthenor rose
Vp sodainly, and without reuerence,
And countnance sterne in open audience
Spake to the King, and sayd, if thou wilt take
Our counsell at this present time, and do't
Thou mayst, but if that light thereof thou make,
Though it should turne to thy destruction, yet
Thou nere shalt be advised more by me,
But follow them that of thy counsell be.
To whom the King in great sobrietie
Made answere, and vnto him sayd againe;
Anthenor, thou oughtst not so hastely
To speake to me, nor take me vp so plaine
For my intent is no way able to reproue
The counsell which thou giuest me in loue,
So it be good, and for the common-weale
Of all men in the towne in generall:
But know this for a truth, and marke it well,
If it proue bad and cleane contrary fall,
And in the end be their destruction,
I will by no meanes tak't, nor heare thereon,
As reason is we should preuent the worst,
Whereof me thinks thou shouldst not thinke amis,
Nor sodainly into such choler burst,
For euery man as it most certaine is,
Should chose the best, & leaue the worst, & take
The wise mans counsell, and the fooles forsake,
And seeke a salue to cure his wound withall.
Wherewith Anthenor rose vpon his feet,
And into such a mighty rage did fall,
That leauing honor and obedience meet
And dew vnto his Soueraigne Lord the King,
Said, sure me thinks it is a wondrous thing
How you being wise and well aduisd should bee
So blinded in conceit, that wilfully,
You either cannot, or you will not see
The mischiefe, and the great aduersity;
Wherewith we are environd on each side,
For we cannot although we would it hide,
Deny in what extremitie we stand,
For are we not besiedged round about,
And fearing to fall in our enemies hand,
Dare not aduenture once to issue out.
Nor be so bold to goe forth of our gate
To fight with them, that vs so deadly hate?
Because our force is weake and theirs too strong
For vs to deale withall, for certainely
There are yet fiftie valiant Kings among
Them in their Campe, who all most furiously
Haue vowed and protested with great pride,
Euen to the last and vtmost hower t'abide,
And neuer to depart nor leaue this towne,
Till that they haue their wills on vs to shed
Our blood; and see our walls turne vpside downe;
Your most renowned Princely sons are dead,
And all your strong and valiant knights are slaine
That wonted were to help you, and maintaine
Your right against your foes: but now berest
Of them, there is no way for vs to scape
Out of their hands, nor comfort for vs left.
It is in vaine for vs to thinke to shape
A remedy by force to be relieu'd,
Wherefore I say, that ere we bereau'd
Of hope, and both our liues and goods do lose,
And see the ouerthrow of this our towne,
Of two extreames the least of them to choose,
And for a resolution to set downe,
That better twere for vs in time to make
Peace with them, and an order thereby take
For our reliefe: which that it may be done,
Let vs restore Queene Helena againe
To Menalus her Lord, for whom alone
There hath so many worthy men been slaine:
And many since this bloody warre began,
Sith Paris now is dead that was the man
Who onely hindred that while he did liue.
And also to make promise by a day
To make them satisfaction, and to giue
Them all which we by force in Cithera
Tooke from them, which I thinke to be the way
T'appease them, and their furious course to stay.
Which hauing said, Amphimachus arose
Vpon his feet, who grieued much to heare
Anthenor speake of treatie with their foes,
In manner as you heard, could not forbeare
In presence of King Priamus t'vpbraid
Him openly with treason, and thus sayd,
Anthenor, by thy speech I well perceiue,
That we haue little cause to trust in thee
For ayd in need, that so much dost deceiue
Our expectations, for we plainely see
That Faith and troth from thee are banished,
And thou in't falshood art by error led,
When as thou dost so variable show.
Where is become thy faith vnto thy Lord?
And due alleigance thou to him dost ow?
Where are thy oaths, thy promises, and word,
Which thou didst make, protest, and giue to be
True vnto him, and his posteritie,
All fled and gone. In steed whereof thou hast
Retained mutability, and change
Of mind, opinion, and of will, and past
The bounds of thy fidelity to change.
At liberty from all affection,
Which thou sholdst beare to him, & to this towne.
To liue and die for it, if need should bee,
For neither faith, nor troth, nor sparkes of loue
In thee remaines, as now we plainely see;
When thou darst be so bold t'excite and moue
The King by thy perswasions to giue eare
To that which to his great dishonor were.
Which is to seeke a peace as if that he
Did feare his foes. Thou rather shouldst haue been
The first that should haue proferred him to be
A chiefe protector of the Citie, (when
So ere the Greeks should seeke t'assaile the same,)
With losse of life and lim to keepe the same,
But know thou well and so I thee assure,
That whatsoere thy meaning is to do,
Before we will this iniurie endure,
And ere they shall so far proceed thereto
It shall the liues of twenty thowsand cost,
And many more, before this towne be lost.
I hold thy words to be no prophesie,
But rather do esteeme them by good reason,
To be the signes and marks of trechery,
Of fained faith, of falsehood, and of treason,
To bring vs in subiection to our foes,
But though thou setst on them so faire a glose,
And outward show, they are but meere deceit
And Syrenes songs t'entrap and to beguile
Vs and this towne, till that our foes it get.
In this sort did Amphimachus reuile
Anthenor for his counsell, knowing well
That t'was nought els but treason. Till full well
To pacefie his choler, and to stay
Them from proceeding further to a brawll,
Aeneas with faire words to make the way
More open for their purpose, and withall
To smooth the matter so, as if they ment
Nought els but troth, but t'was with false intent.
For he spake cleane contrary to his thought,
Intending onely to appease them twaine,
Till that he had by policie so wrought,
That they from futher speeches did refraine:
And when he saw them somewhat pacified,
To cloake Anthenors speeches, and to hide
His owne dissimulation in like ease,
When he had pausd a little while, he sayd
Vnto the King with smooth and flattering face,
That touching help, reliefe, or any ayd,
To be expected for the towne, he thought
There was none to be found, & that it nought
Availed them to hope thereon, sith they
Besiedged were soclosely and so hard,
That they could haue no victualls any way
To comfort them, and wholy were debard
From issuing forth, as hauing not the might
Against the Greeks for want of force to fight.
For as you know (said he) while that this warre
Endured hath, we haue consumd such store
Of famous and most worthy knights that were
A terror to our foes, that now no more
We can, nor dare not issue out to fight,
And which is more vnto our great despight.
The people are so full of feare and dread,
That they are all perswaded ther's noway
For them, but euery one to lay his head
Vpon the blocke to die? therefore I say,
(Sith that the Fates for vs haue so decreed,
And that we now are driuen to such need.
If that you will be ruld by my aduise,)
I thinke the safest way for vs wilbe
To parle with our foes, and not be nise
To make a peace with them, though that it be
Vnto our losse, t'avoid th'extremety
We may fall in, sith ther's no remedy.
But Priamus with face for anger pale,
And countnance sterne, (he was so moud in mi [...]d;)
Cut of Aeneas long and flattering tale,
And fretting at the treason he did find
Lie hiden vnder it. Could not refraine
In furious wise to speake vnto them twaine,
And sayd, Anthenor and Aeneas both,
I muse why you two should so hardy be
And bold, as that with breach of faith and troth;
You dare inuent such▪ treason, to bring me,
And all my subiects into extreame thrall
And danger of our foes, and therewithall
Into dispaire by false suggestion,
How can or may you in your conscience find,
(If that you well considered thereon)
Against your facts and oathes to be vnkind
To me, that of my secret counsell were,
And so well thought on by me, that whatsoere
Did passe therein, it was not don without
You were in presence to agree thereto:
But now I cannot muse how it falles out,
That you decline in this sort as you do
From me, that am of all my soones bereft,
And desolate of friends in manner left:
It makes me grieue to thinke vpon the same,
And much to muse that any of you can
Be so vntrue, and haue so little shame
To do it, how should I trust any man?
When you two are so faithlesse vnto me,
That ought my chiefest counsellors to be.
You should remember how with your consent,
And chiefely by your counsell and aduise,
Paris by me was into Grecia sent
With many ships and men in warlike wise.
And thou Anthenor knowst full well also
That fore he went thou didst Ambaster go
Vnto the Greeks, to fetch home Exion,
If by faire meanes we could bring them thereto,
And after that thou madst the motion
And was the cause that Paris then did go
With warlike force to Greece, and this is true.
For thinke you that without aduise from you,
I would with such a power haue sent him thither,
Or haue assayld the Grecians in their land,
Vnlesse that you had mou'd me to't together,
No surely, it had nere been tane in hand:
And you your selues if you be well aduisd,
Cannot deny but that it was deuisd
And put in execution through you twaine,
Especially, for when as Paris went
To Cithera for Helena its plaine
Aeneas, thou wast cause that he was sent,
And th'onely man that readiest was, and sought
To welcome her when she to Troy was brought.
For tis most sure, she neuer had come here
If thou hadst been vnwilling therevnto:
Although as now thou makst as though thou nere
Hadst knowne thereof, nor giuen consent thereto.
And now my sons are dead, and I bereft
Of my best Knights, and without comfort left.
You tell me that the best way for me were
To make a meanes vnto the Greeks to get
A peace, as if of them I stood in feare;
And that I were so simple to forget
The many and most extreame outrages,
The slaughters, mortall warres, and domages,
The cruelties, and great destruction,
By them so long and often don to me,
This towne, and to my subiects euery one,
Which when I call to mind I cannot be
Perswaded thereunto, though I should die
And loose all that I haue. For I espie
Such danger in that which by you is ment,
And so great falsehood couertly to be
Therein, that if you compasse your intent
In such sort as you moue it vnto me,
It will in fine be my confusion,
And this townes vtter desolation.
For vnpossible t'were for me to shun
The mischiefe that thereon depends, which I
Were sure to find (if that the same be don,
Which you do seeke,) without all remedy.
For this most sure and certaine is no doubt,
The issve of the peace you go about.
Wherewith Aeneas grieued at the hart,
Rose vp vpon his feet and moued sore
Against the King, before he did depart
Out of the counsell chamber, voud, and swore
With many bitter words, and taunts, which he
Vnto him gaue, that he reuengd would be
On him, if he in time no order tooke
For better satisfaction in that case,
Whereto he bad him with all speed to looke;
And so in mighty rage he left the place,
And with the Lord Anthenor went his way,
And would no longer in the counsell stay.
At whose departure Priam grieud to see
Himsefe by them so hardly vsd, he was
Therewith so vexed at the heart, that he
Could not refraine to shead forth eeares when as
He thought thereon, and then considering more
And deepelier then he had don before.
What trechery and treason they had wrought,
And secretly conspired and devisd,
Against the towne of Troy, and him, and sought
Their vtter ruine he thereby surmisd,
And feared they two would him by some way
In secret wise vnto the Greeks betray.
If he did not the same with speed preuent,
And shape some way their malice to withstand;
And thereby turne the treason (which they ment
To worke gainst him, and had then tane in hand
To practise with the Greeks,) before it wrought
Th'effect vpon themselues that had it sought.
That so the guerdon of their trechery
Might light on them that first inuented it,
For treason and all false conspiracie,
Should be requited as it is most fit
With treason, for he that works villany,
For iust reward a shamefull death should die.
And to effect the same King Priamus
With many teares did grieuously complaine
Vnto his bastard sonne Amphimachus,
And when they had together twixt them twaine,
Shewd their dislikings of the trechery
Anthenor and Aeneas secretly
Deuised had, with others, to betray
Him and the towne into the Grecians hand:
With many sighs he did vnto him say,
Good Son I pray thee marke and vnderstand
My meaning well, and thereto giue good eare,
Thou knowest that I am thy Father deare,
And how that now there are no more aliue
Of all my Sons, but thou alone to be
Mine onely heire and after me t'suruiue,
I pray thee therefore if thou louest me,
And of thine owne estate hast any care,
Thinke on this treason, by the which we are
As now in so great danger to be brought,
If we do not preuent it by some way,
And practise quickly by vs to be wrought,
Whereby we may their furious courses stay,
And first intrap and take them in the snare,
Which they for vs do craftely prepare:
Which to effect, my meaning is to call
Them this night vnto counsell purposely,
Where being come thou shalt vpon them fall
With many Knights, and kill them sodainly:
The which meane time see thou do not disclose
To any man, but onely vnto those
Whom thou with thee wilt take to do the deed.
And so we shall preuent them vnaware:
The which to do Amphimacus agreed,
And bad King Priam lay on him the care
Thereof, t'accomplish it with as much speed,
As was to be required in such need.
But as by Prouerbe old it's often said,
There is nothing so closely gon about,
Nor counsell that's so secretly conuaid,
But by some meanes or other twill come out;
And that a murther oft done priuily,
And many yeares vnknowne to men doth lie,
The beasts and birds of th'aire will it discrie.
And that the dumbe and senceles earth likewise,
Oft times casts forth that within it doth lie,
And makes itknowne. Therefore let men be wise,
And not disclose their secrets, sith they say,
Two can keepe counsell when one is away,
But specially great Princes should haue care
Aboue all men to keepe their secrets well,
Because that they like vnto Mirrors are
Whereon men looke. For if they chance to tell
Or speake a thing out of their mouths that shold
Not vttered be, men presently lay hold
Thereon, and spread't abroad both farre & wide,
When they do least suspect that it is knowne,
And would it from the common people hide,
That it may not about the world be knowne:
And so by indiscreetnes oft disclose,
Their secrets great vnto their chiefest foes.
And some perhaps in whom they most do trust,
And doe familiarly to them resort,
Will soonest show themselues to them vniust,
And to the world giue them a bad report.
And therefore it is best for them to spare
To speake, and of their words to haue a care.
That which a Prince doth secretly intend,
Shold not vnto the vulgar sort be told,
For they their wits and wils do chiefely bend
(And do it as a common custome hold,)
Vntruely to report that which they heare,
And make it cleane contrary to appeare.
For they do conster things as they desire
To haue them, and to reason are not tide,
And are compard vnto a wispe of fire
Which makes a blast, but doth not long abide
Within the same, but strait-way doth consume▪
It is not good on such men to presume,
That fier and water both in one hand hold,
And vnto either side do bow and bend,
And as men say, are neither hot nor cold,
And t'euery new found tale their eares do lend,
To day they loue, to morrow they do hate.
And neuer do continew in one state.
To trust to them there is no certaine stay,
For much like to a broken staffe they bee,
Which when a man leanes on't it shrinks away:
And therefore Lords and Princes ought to see,
That they commit not too much secresie
To them, for in them ther's no constancie.
For Priams counsell though it were deuisd
Betweene him and his sonne alone, twas told
Vnto Aeneas, who thereby advisd
Of that which he thought Priam neuer would
Haue done, did make Anthenor vnderstand
In how great danger both their liues did stand.
And therefore they together did consent
Asecret counsell with their friends to hold,
And others that vnto their partie bent,
Wherein they did agree, and said they would
Preuent King Priam by some meanes, before
He should proceed to that gainst them, & swore
They would reuenged be on him, and make
Him and his son both rew they had done so,
And did among themselues an order take,
That if the King sent for them, they would go
So strongly vnto him, they should not need
Of him nor of his friends to stand in dread.
(Of such great power and might Aeneas was,
And in the towne so well alyed, and had
Such store of wealth, that he did farre surpas
All men therein, whereby the people made
So much account of him, that they did feare
And honor him as much, and to him weare
As dutifull almost in euery thing,
Which he desird or asked of them, as
They in a manner were vnto the King.
For he in wealth and power equall was
Vnto him. And Anthenor also had
Almost as much, for euery man was glad
To follow them, and durst not well deny
Whatsoeuer they would haue, or did command.)
And did conspire betweene them secretly,
To yeild the towne into the Grecians hand,
Vpon condition of security
That when twas done, they would haue liberty
With goods, and liues of them, their children,
And kindred borne within the towne, to go
Or stay securely where they list, and when
They had agreed among them so to do,
And scarce had made an end of parlieng,
They were sent for to come vnto the King.
Who fully was determined and bent
That night to kill them as he purposed,
And straight Aeneas and Anthenor went
And with them such a troope of Troians led
To guard them, that when as King Priamus
Saw them, he sent vnto Amphimachus,
And willed him no further to proceed
In that which he had bidden him do that night,
For that the thing between them two decreed,
He sayd reuealed was, to their despight
And as he feard, to his destruction:
For when with more aduise he thought thereon,
And did perceiue Aeneas with so great
A power to come, and saw the people so
To fauor him, he knew he could not let
His purpose, for he made no more a do,
But proudly to the King did flatly say,
That spight of all that thereto would say nay,
There was no other remedy to be had
Whereby they might escape destruction
Then peace. The which he said should straight be made.
Wherewith the common people euery one
With shouts and cries commended his aduise,
And praised and extold it to the skies.
And yet the King was thereunto contrary,
And would not graunt to yeild vnto his foes:
But then Aeneas would no longer tarry
To argue with the King, but fiercely rose,
And told him whether he were liefe or loth,
Well pleas'd therewith, or angry & wroth,
He must content himselfe, for it should be
No otherwise, and that to his despight,
And gainst his will and mind they would agree,
To enter into treaty ere t'were night,
Of peace to be concluded, and set downe
Forthwith betweene the Grecians and the towne.
Which when the King did heare, and saw how hot
Aeneas and the people were therein,
He thought to striue with them it was no boot,
And therefore for the time he did begin
With wisedome to dissemble, when he saw,
And knew well that necesty hath no law.
And for because he could himselfe not mend,
He told Aeneas fainedly, that he
Would with them at that time no more contend,
And also that he was content to be
Ruld by them, and t'allow, and to maintaine
Whatsoeuer they in his name should ordaine.
And so dissembling with them gainst his mind,
(For as the case then stood he could not choose)
When as he saw that he no meanes could find
To shun the snare layd for him, nor refuse
To yeild vnto their willes, he did consent
(Though faintly) that Anthenor should be sent
In all their names to parle for the towne,
And to conclude a Peace as they desird,
(The which before in manner was set downe,
And with the Greeks agreed and conspird
By him, and them that of his partie were
Contrary to the message he should beare.)
Who, going to the Greeks that knew his mind
And purpose in that case, before he came,
Was by them entertaind with countnance kind.
And while he staid with them about the same,
The Troians in the towne with ioyfull cheare
Went on the walles, and in their hands did beare
Greene Oliue branches, signes of perfect peace:
Which when the Greeks did see that stood below
Vpon the plaine, their hope therein t'increase,
(With false pretence) the like to them did show:
And to confirme them in opinion
Thereof, their Generall Agamemnon
(That no suspition might among them breed,)
Appointed three Commiss [...]ners to treat
Of peace with him, which were King Diomed,
Ulisses, and Taltabius King of Creet,
Esteeming them sufficient to agree
Thereon for them, and whatsoere should be
Done therein, by them all to be allowed
For good, and giuing them commission large,
When they had sworne on either side, and vou'd
Vprightly to do that they had incharge:
Anthenor and they three together went,
To parle by themselues, into a tent;
And when they were together closely set
Within the same alone, and priuately,
Where no man was to hinder them, nor let
Their busines. Anthenor traiterously
With envious heart which he to Priam bare,
In few words did his mind to them declare,
And said, he would giue Troy into their hands,
That they thereof might at their willes dispose,
Conditionally, that they should put in bonds
To him, that he, Aeneas, and all those
That were of their affinitie and bloods,
Should freely with their bodies, liues, goods,
Goe where they list, or if they would stay still
Within the towne, (as they should thinke it best
To take their choise) it should be at their will
Without all let. And therewith did protest,
That that which he had promist he would do,
If they would in such sort agree thereto.
Wherewith the Greeks in solemne wise did sweare
T'obserue the same, in all things as he made
Condition, (so that no varying weare
On either side, from that they promist had.)
Vpon the perill of their liues. And when
They had in that sort sworne to do it; Then
He charged them to keepe it secretly
Vnto themselues, and not to make it knowne
To any man, till with security
T'were brought vnto effect, least it were blowne
To some abroad, by those that could not keepe
Their tongues from vttring of such secrets deepe;
And so they might be crost therein before
They were aware. And therefore did agree,
That he and they three onely and no more,
Of what estate soere they were, should be
Made priuie to the same on neither side.
And then Anthenor sayd, my Lords, to hide
Our purpose, and t'auoid suspition,
I thinke it good that King Taltabius
Should go with me into alone the towne,
To countnance me vnto King Priamus,
Who being civile, old, demure, and sad,
And very wise, there will no doubt be made
Of him by them, for they will thinke that he
Doth onely come to speake about the peace:
And to be well assur'd, that it shall be
Obserud and kept in all things, more or lesse,
By them as I vnto you haue declar'd,
And by that meanes (said he) they wilbeoard
From any manner of suspition,
Or doubt of ill proceeding, till that we
Haue brought it to the full conclusion,
Whereto the Grecians gladly did agree:
And liking very well of euery thing,
Tooke order that Taltabius the King
Should go as he desird, but ere he went,
Anthenor (to make shew that he had brought
Some thing t'effect, and that the Greeks were bent
To giue consent vnto the peace, and sought
It earnestly,) desird of them to haue
Queene Panthasillias body, which they gaue
To him forthwith, and so he tooke his leaue
Of all the Greeks, and with the King alone
Went to the towne with fained shew to giue
Them hope of peace, and make relation
What he had done vnto King Priamus,
Who faining to be much desirous
To heare th'effect thereof without delay,
Cald all the commons of the towne together
In Ilion his Pallace, where next day
When they and all his counsell were together,
And he had caused silence in the place,
Anthenor with a smooth dissembling face,
(And sugred words refind with eloquence
In tearmes so well, and circumspectly vsd,
That no man at the same could take offence,
Nor iudge that they by him should be abusd
By any outward show of countnance, cheare,
Or restures, they so finely couched weare.)
Declared vnto them th'effect of that
Which he vnto the Greeks propounded had
Concerning peace vnto them made, and what
The answere was that they vnto him made,
With his replie returnd to them againe,
Although therein his meaning was not plaine.
For t'was with foule deceit and falsehood fraught,
For he was very close, and warily
Did watch his time till he aduantage caught,
(Like Serpent slie that in the field doth lie,
And hides his venom vnder grasse that's long,
And as the Bee that stingeth with his tongue,
When he hath first cast forth his hony sweet,
For with his Syrens voyce he told his tale
In tearmes that for the time were apt and meet:
And couered it with such a subtill vale,
That outwardly it seemed smooth and plaine,
Like to the sunne that shining in the raine,
Shews faire and bright, although the weather bee
Sore troubled, windy, and tempestuous,
As by experience many times we see.
And so did he, (that was so trecherous,
And like a Tyger full of doublenes,)
Dissemblingly his mind to them expresse,
As if that he ment truely to the towne.
Affirming that the Greeks were very strong,
And by some reasons which he then set downe,
Prou'd that they likely were and very long
To hold their siege, as being victualled
For many moneths, and therewith furnished
Of all things els that necessary were
To serue their turnes, concluding certainely
(To strike their hearts into the greater feare,)
That without doubt there was no remedy
For them of Troy against the Greeks to striue,
For they (said he) mong them haue yet aliue
Great store of puissant Kings, and many more
Most worthy Knights, who all with valiant heart
Haue vowed and protested, that before
They breake vp siege, or from this towne depart,
Theyle haue their wils on it what ere befall
To them thereby, and that ther's neither wall,
Towre, Bulwarke, nor yet gate that shall them let
On euery side t'assayle it, and at last
Despight of all our force the same to get,
And therefore ere it comes to th'vtmost cast,
(Sith that we may not long against them stand,)
T'were best for vs forthwith and out of hand
To find a meanes to remedy all this,
The which (said he) so that you be content,
I know well how to do: and thus it is,
When I vnto the Grecians campe was sent
T'intreat for peace, this answere they me gaue,
That willingly we should our asking haue,
But it must be vpon condition,
That we shall make them restitution
Of all the wrongs and mischies that were don
By Paris in the Isle of C [...]r [...]n,
As it doth stand in right and equity,
And we are driuen of necessity
And gainst our wils and minds to them to bend,
For, sith it is in their Election
To bring this bloody warre vnto an end,
T'is not for vs to make condition
As pleaseth vs, for now tis thus farre brought,
To striue gainst them it would availe vs nought.
For that might soner hurt, then mend our case:
Therefore I say sith need doth vs constraine,
Through two most great extremities to passe,
Let vs chose out the lesser of the twaine,
And wisely seeke the greater to eschew:
And let our gold by vs kept close in new,
Redeeme our liues. For better t'is to loose
Our worldly wealth, then to be fiercely flaine
(Through wilfulnes) by our most deadly [...]e [...].
Are not our liues more worth then riches vaine [...]
He's but a foole that for his owne welfare,
Doth niggardly his gold and treasure spare
When life depends thereon, let money go,
We may good store of tresure get againe,
But life once lost with vs, it's nothing so,
Then to esteeme gold more then life, is vaine.
And therefore (as I haue vnto you told,)
If we may haue a finall peace by gold,
And with our treasure stint this mortall war [...]e:
Great folly t'were against the Greeks to stand,
And obstinately with them alwaies iarre,
For if (sayd he) I let them vnderstand,
That you do yeild to that which they require,
You may obtaine a peace at your desire,
It is of them so easie to be had:
For that assoone as they are certified
By true report, what answere you haue made,
They are content with couenants to be tied,
And bound t'obserue that which of thē you craue;
And they will looke the like of you to haue.
Which being done twixt vs on either side,
There must be therevpon Indentures made,
That shall record to what each part is tied;
That no doubt nor suspition may be had
Of their true meaning and integrity:
And for because they do expect from me
An answere, I will go to certifie
Them of the truth of all that hath been sayd,
Nought doubting but that it will satisfie
Them, that therewith they shall be well apaid.
Which said, the commons shouted out and cried
And with one voyce much praisd & magnified,
Anthenors pleasing speech vnto them made,
And therewith gaue him speciall charge to beare
Their answere to the Greeks, who with him had
Aeneas ioynd, to th'end that nothing were
Omitted that might further their intent.
And they (with King Taltabius that was sent
Commissioner vpon the Grecian part
With Anthenor to Troy,) did vndertake
The charge t'effect the peace, although in hart,
Whatsoeuer protestation they did make,
They were but traitors, and ment nothing lesse
Then that which outwardly they did professe.
For Priamus had great suspition
Of both of them, and certainely beleeu'd
They would procure the townes destruction,
For which he was within his mind so grieu'd:
That to himselfe sore prest with care and wo,
He wept and said, alas what shall I do
To scape the snare wherein I feare to fall?
For by my hard and cruell desteny
(Which is the worst and greatest griefe of all.)
I am compelled of necessity,
Despight my heart, to ransome and to buy
My life with money, of mine enemy,
Which doth torment me sore. But I perceiu [...]
Whatsoere I do there is no remedy,
For by constraint I must my treasure giue
Vnto my foes, and dare it not deny:
And yet I am not thereby freed of feare
To loose my life, which hangeth as it were
In ballance of deceit and tiranny,
For I am forst for all my royall state,
T'obay their wills that seekes by trechery
To haue my life, because they do me hate.
But Parchas hath for me such Fortune shapt,
That without doubt it cannot be escapt.
And while that he did in this sort lament
His woefull state with many a brinish teare,
Queene Helena vnto Anthenor went,
To pray him and Aeneas when they were
In parle with the Greeks, for her to make
A motion, and if they could for her sake,
By their good mediation get that she
Might be restord againe (if peace did hold,)
Vnto her Lord King Menalus, so he
Contented were, and that of grace he would
(Forgetting that had passed) pleased be,
T'restore her to her former dignitie.
To whose request Anthenor answere made,
That he would do as much as in him lay
To pleasure her, and so when as he had
Tane leaue of her, he went the selfe same day
Vnto the Grecians Campe, t'effect the thing,
Which he ment traiterously to passe to bring.
Meane time within the towne they buried
A valiant Knight cald Glaucus, bastard Son
To Priamus, whose funerall finished,
And all things thereunto belonging don,
King Priam for Queene Panthasillias sake,
Causd cunning workemen curiously to make
A vessell of pure gold, which he did fill
With balme and spice, her body to enclose
And to preserue from putrefaction, till
The war did end between him and his foes,
By treaty of the peace as then in hand,
That it might be conuaid into the land
Of Amazons, wherein she raigned Queene,
To burie it there, according t'her degree
In princely wise. The which King Philomene
Did carry away with him from thence, when he
Left Troy to go into his natiue Land.
But now I will thereon no longer stand,
To tell you what about the peace was done
Within the Grecians Campe. Who all agreed,
With full consent did make election
Of those three Kings, Ulisses, Diomede,
And Taltabius of Creta, and no more
To deale for them, as they had done before
Concerning peace, and to that end to meet
Anthenor and Aeneas, and to goe
With them to Troy, in counsell there to sit
Vpon the same. The which forthwith to doe,
With such instructions from Agamemnon
As needfull were, they went into the towne
With both the Troyan Lords, where whē they came,
There was such ioy among the people (who
In novelties delight, and at the same
Reioyce, though afterwards againe they do
Repent therefore, and their owne follies rue.)
For they suppos'd that the [...]eby would ensue
A perfect peace to them for evermore,
And finall end of all the griefe & sorrow
Which they endured had so long before.
And Priamus the next ensuing morrow,
Assembled all his Lords and Peeres together
In Ilion, and when they were come thither,
And every man set downe in his degree.
Ulisses standing vp with words refind
With eloquence, and smoothed subtilty,
In presence of them all declar'd his mind,
(So well, that those that then were there to heare
His pleasing speech, and not acquainted were,
Nor priuie to his meaning fraudulent,
Tooke pleasure in't, but did not vnderstand
The depth and secret drift of his intent)
Wherein he did two things of them demand;
The one, that Troy vnto the Greeks should pay
A certaine summe of gold without delay,
In recompence of all the iniurie
And wrongs vnto them done in Cithera,
When Paris without right or equitie,
From thence did take away Queene Helena.
The second thing was, that Amphimacus
(A bastard sonne vnto King Priamus)
Should be exil'd from Troy perpetually,
Without all pardon or remission.
The which Anthenor had by policie
And envie great procured to be done:
Because that he did spight Amphimacus▪
For crossing him before King Priamus
In presence of his counsell, (when he made
A motion touching peace, and said he would
Not giue consent thereto, but rather had
Loose life and lim then any such thing should
Be offered to the Grecians.) And therefore,
Such hatred secretly vnto him bore,
That finding oportunity to quite
Him priuily, like serpent envious,
He thought he would occasion take to bite,
When time did serue with heart malicious,
For speaking truth. And therefore my advise
And counsell is, to wish men to be wise,
And not in words to be superfluous.
For men must not say all things that they know,
And wisedome oftentimes adviseth vs,
When we are by extreamities brought low:
To spare to speake, and to dissemble when
We are constraind to yeeld to other men.
A man were beter not to speake at all,
And silent be although against his will,
Then by his speech in danger great to fall.
We must beware, and may not alwaies tell
The truth of things, but rather hold our peace,
The false reports of envious men to cease.
That man is wise that can his choller hide▪
For better tis with modesty t'abstaine
From anger, then with furie and in pride
To speake, for when with silence men refraine
From words, and can endure wrongs patiently,
It is the way debates to pacifie.
For happy is he that can endure a wrong,
And not in speech be too presumptuous,
(Which oftentimes makes men excell in tong)
As it did happen to Amphimacus:
(Although to tell the truth was his intent)
For by that meanes he suffred banishment,
But God the iudge of all men, afterward
To shew how he with equity and right
Can punish men, and giue them their rewarde
In short time after made like iudgement light
Vpon Anthenor, which he falsly sought
To lay vpon Amphimacus for nought.
For not long after he himselfe was sent
By Aeneas meanes out of the Towne of Troy,
And iudged to perpetuall banishment,
(And never did his freedome there enioy)
Whereby you see how God by providence,
In his due time doth iustly recompence
And punish all dissimulation,
And treason, for who s'euer traitor is,
And seekes another mans confusion,
To haue the like reward shall never misse:
For falshood evermore doth backe rebound,
Like to a ball that riseth from the ground,
And falleth downe againe where first it lay.
For what so ever treason men forecast,
Most commonly (as we are woont to say)
Will surely be discovered at the last:
And he that strikes with sword shall stricken be.
(As by Anthenor you may plainlie see.)
And while that they so earnest were t'agree,
And bring the peace to that effect they sought,
And chiefly that Amphimacus should be
Exiled, as Anthenor closely wrought:
A sodaine noise among them did arise,
As it had been the lamentable cries,
And dolefull plaints of men in extreame woe.
Whereat Ulisses and King Diomede,
As they did out the Counsell chamber go,
Were stricken in no little feare and dread:
And thought the people that great favor bore
T'Amphimacus, would be revenged fore
His exile causlesse done to their despight.
And therfore fear'd that they should murthered be,
With furie great within the towne that night,
By some devise and foule conspiracy
Of false Anthenor and Aeneas both,
In whome they did repose but little troth.
And yet in truth there was not any man,
That heard the noyse and rumor in the hall,
That could c [...]ceiue or know how it began,
Which made the Greeks in greater feare to fall,
And to sufpect the Commons would arise
And kill them, as their deadly enemies.
But to assure and put them out of dout,
And danger of all tumults what so ere,
Anthenor did convay them safely out
Of Ilion: and when they gotten were
Out of the way to an assured place:
Ulisses with a pale and deadly face
Scarce freed from feare, & with dissembling smile
Began to charge Anthenor, and to say
They feared that he meant them to beguile,
Because he put them off from day to day:
And nought perform'd of that he promist had,
When they at first the cov'nāts with him made.
So that (said he) we thinke and certainly
Belieue for truth (as reason doth vs moue)
That you meane nothing else but treacherie.
But false Anthenor from them to remoue,
All causes of suspition what so ere,
Spake vnto them with sad and sober cheare,
And said, I do the Gods to witnesse call,
Who onlie know the secret of mans heart,
That without any fraud or guile, in all
That I haue tane in hand (as't is my part)
I haue been faithfull, true, and diligent,
To bring't to passe with all my whole intent.
One thing there is (whereat you must not grieue)
Which is the cause I cannot (as I would)
Performe't so soone, which if you giue me leaue
Shall brieflie vnto you by me be told.
This towne (as old records declare to vs,)
Long since was Builded by King Ilius.
Who in perpetuall honor of his name,
And to preserue it from oblivion,
When he had fullie finished the same,
Gaue vnto it the name of Ilion:
Wherein with most exceeding cost and charge,
He did erect a Temple faire and large.
(In Pallas name the which long time was had,
And holden by all men in reverence great,)
Which Temple being raised vp and made
As high as to the roofe, ere he had set
And laid the beames and lead vpon the same,
Pallas (because of her it had the name,)
To shew how much the honor they her bore,
She did accept as pleasing in her eies,
And also to encourage them the more,
Vpon her Altars t'offer sacrifice,
A miracle so strange did shew as then,
That nere the like was seen before of men.
For from the skie did sodainlie descend,
A faire and goodlie Image so well made
And curiously compos'd, that none could mend
The workmanship thereof, nor ever had
Seene any thing so exquisitely form'd,
Nor in all points so cunningly adorn'd.
For it was made within the heavenly bower
Of Angels, by divine Mineruaes hand,
And by her sent, to shew her mighty power,
Downe from the skies into the church to stand
Therein, for vs perpetually to be
A preseruation in extreamitie,
And to maintaine and keepe the towne from all
Distresses, harmes, and dangers what so ere
At any time should hap thereon to fall.
For that as long as it remaineth here
Within her Church, Troy well may be annoyd
By enemies, but nere shall be destroyd.
For Pallas of her grace to vs doth show
Such favor, that while it is in the Towne,
There's no terrestriall power can overthrow,
Nor haue the meanes by force to breake it downe:
Vnlesse the Image could be stolne away
From hence, and yet there is no man that may
Remoue it from the place where it doth stand,
Vnlesse it be the Priest, whose office is
Alone t'attend thereon, and with his hand
Is licensed to doo't, because it is
Impossible for any other man,
To stirre or lift the same, do what he can.
And who so ever sees and doth behold
The Image, cannot tell whether it be made
Of wood or stone, of mettall or of mold,
For certaine tis, no earthly man ere layd
Hand therevnto, it is so heavenly
A piece of worke, and wrought so curiously
By power divine and wise Mineruaes hand.
Who of her grace hath giuen it vnto Troy,
Within her Temple evermore to stand,
And granted them this priuiledge t'enioy:
That while it there remaines, they shall not need
The force and power of enemies to dread,
If they do yeeld due honor therevnto.
And by succession so shall still remaine
From King to King, who by true title do
And shall the Troyan Diadem obtaine:
If they preserue the same with reverence,
And loose it not by their owne negligence.
The name whereof is cald Palladiowne,
Because it was sent downe out of the skie,
And by Minerua given to the Towne,
Within her Church to stand perpetually
For their defence: and this is th'only thing
Which hindreth me my word to passe to bring.
Whereto Ulisses said, if it be so,
That Troy cannot be given into our hands,
(As thou to vs protested hast to do)
While th'Image in Mineruaes Temple stands;
And that it is impossible t'attaine
To our desires therein; It is in vaine
For vs t'expect that at thy hands, which thou
Canst not effect: and folly in thee to take
On thee to do that which thou knowst not how
By any meanes t'accomplish, nor to make
Thy promise good to vs; therefore I say,
It's best for vs to seeke some other way.
To whome Anthenor made reply, and said,
As yet there's nothing promised by me
But shall be well perform'd though't be delaid,
As by the sequell plainly you may see:
The manner how to you I will declare,
If so much time to heare it you will spare.
My meaning is (said he) forthwith to go,
Vnto the Priest that hath the custody
Of Palladowne, and to perswade him so
(By promising to giue him presently
A sum of gold in hand) that he shall be
Content at my request, to grant to me,
To bring the Image to the place whereas
You shall appoint: If that meane time you will
Content your selues, and letting care ore-passe,
Stay patiently a little while, vntill
That I this thing haue fully brought about,
Wherein (said he) I pray you not to doubt,
For I will take the charge of it in hand,
And do assure you of Palladiowne.
Whose purpose when the Greeks did vnderstand,
They tooke their leaues to go out of the Towne:
But to avoid suspition ere they went,
Anthenor said, that it was his intent,
To go vnto King Priamus to know,
In what sort the Indentures should be made
On either side concerning peace, and how
Much mony should provided be and had,
That they were to receaue of him in hand:
And so (said he) I shall soone vnderstand
His meaning, which I will to you impart,
Wherewith Ulisses and the rest content,
For that time tooke their leaues, and did depart
Well satisfied, and to their armie went,
To certifie vnto Agamemnon,
What they in Troy concerning peace had done.
And Anthenor vnto King Priam went,
And told him that the best and readiest way
For him was, (sith the Greeks were fully bent
To make a peace) the next ensuing day
To call his Lords and Commons all together,
In Ilion: And when they were come thither,
Anthenor spake before them all, and told
(Though falslie) what the Grecians meant to do,
And what the summe of monie was they should
Prepare for them (if they would grant thereto)
The which was twentie thousand pound in gold,
And as much more in silver, if they wold
Haue peace, according to their owne desire,
Which all in readie monie must be paid.
And further that the Grecians did require
Some corne, flower, and meale, the which he said,
Should be to put into their ships, when they
Were readie to set saile to go away,
To serue their turnes while they at sea should be:
And bad them that they should without delay,
Collect the silver and the gold, and see
That it were readie by a certaine day.
Whereto the King (though loath to doo't) agreed,
(For he durst not gaine say't) and so decreed,
That presentlie an order should be made
To gather it of rich and poore, (for none
Was spard) and when Anthenor had thus laid
His traiterous plot, and so farre therein gone:
He went by night vnto the Priest to see,
If by perswasions he content would bee,
To hearken vnto him, and giue consent
To do that thing, the which he had decreed
To bring to passe, and to that end he bent
His wit, and all the skill he had to feed
Him with faire words, and promises of gold,
That should be giuen to him in hand, and told
Him while he liu'd he nere should want, if so
He would consent to grant to his request,
And speaking to him said, if thou wilt do
The thing that I desire, I here protest
And vnto thee a solemne vow doe make
Vpon mine honor, that Ile vndertake
To giue thee such a summe of gold in hand,
That ever after thou shalt surely be
The richest of thy kindred in this land.
The thing that I therefore require of thee,
Is, that thou wouldst deliuer presently
Palladion, which thou hast in custody,
Into my hands, and I will thee assure,
Therein to be so secret, that no blame
Shall fall to thee thereby, and will secure
Thee from all harmes may happen by the same
So that vpon my word thou shalt not need,
For doing it, to stand in any dread.
For I will so deuise, how ere it goeth,
That thou no hurt shalt haue if that thou do
This thing, for I (as well as thou) am loath
It should be knowen I gaue consent thereto:
Or that the least in Troy should me suspect
Thereof, therefore all feare and care reiect▪
For I had rather die then't should fall out,
That we should be accused for the same.
Which to effect, I wil't so bring about,
That thou and I thereby will reape no sham [...]
Nor once suspected be thereof, for all
The fault vpon Ulisses head shall fall,
And he therefore shall onely beare the blame,
For by my meanes it shall reported be,
That he was th'onlie doer of the same,
And that by his great craft and subtiltie,
He hath devis'd to steale Palladiowne,
And borne it secretly out of the towne,
Whereby he shall be blam'd, and we go free,
Of being once accused for this deed.
Wherefore (I say) if that thou wilt agree
To my request, I pray thee then proceed
And do it out of hand, and here's the gold
That thou shalt haue, as first to thee I told,
Which I will now deliuer into thy hand.
But Tonant (so the Priest was cald) delaid
To do the same, and flatly did withstand
Him therein at the first, and to him said,
That neither gold nor any other thing,
Nor faire nor flattering words, nor menacing,
Should make him yeeld vnto such treacheries
And though at first he straightlie said him nay,
(And that some honest men hate villanie,
Yet bribes in these daies beare so great a sway,
That men the truth for mony will suppresse,
The poore for want, the rich for covetousnesse.
And both of them for gold will falsifie
Their words, and be seduced to decline
From truth, and all the bounds of honesty.
For men with golden spades may dig and myne
Throgh Marble stones) the gold did tempt him so▪
That letting truth and honesty cleane go,
He yeelded to Anthenor in that case,
And was content (so he the gold might haue)
To take the jmage downe out of the place
Whereas it stood within the Church, and gaue
It vnto him, which he the selfe same night,
Sent secretlie with all the speed he might
Vnto Ulisses by a messenger,
Whome he did trust: and so betweene them both
The Towne and all the Troyans spoiled were.
For traiterously without all faith and troth,
They gaue the same into the Grecians hand,
As by the sequell you shall vnderstand.

CHAP. VII.

¶ How the Greeks made an Horse of brasse, wherin they put a thousand armed Knights; and vnder colour of peace, brought it into Troy, by the which it was vt­terly destroyed for euer.

NOw maist thou mourne and pittifully weepe,
O famous towne of Troy that so art tost
In waues of woe, and with so re sighs and deepe
Complaine, that thou Palladiowne hast lost
By treason of the Priest, by whome't was sold
Vnto thy foes for greedines of gold.
Why didst not thou (oh mighty Ioue that art
The Governor of all the world, and knowst
The inward thoughts and secrets of the heart,
Before they are conceau'd, and dailie showst
Thy power divine by iudgements strange & rare,
Vpon such men as disobedient are
Vnto thy will) take vengance on the Priest,
That traiterously for greedinesse of gold,
At false Anthenors motion and request,
Mineruaes jmage to the Grecians sold?
And thereby was the meanes they did destroy,
And vtterly deface the Towne of Troy.
What Land or Towne is able long t'endure
In any certaine state? or what is he
That liveth here on earth can be secure?
When as such men as are of that degree,
Will be corrupt in heart and mind, and take
Rewards, & of their conscience shipwrack make?
Is't not a great and grieuons thing to see
Men (that should vnto vs examples giue
Of holinesse, and lights vnto vs bee,
To shew vs by good doctrine how to liue,)
Do things which are most wicked and contrary
To that they teach, & from their function vary.
For if that Priests be bad of conversation,
And that the brightnesse of the perfect light
Which they should shew, be voyd of good devotiō,
And turned by iniquity to night?
To whom shall any man repaire or go
To learne, or take example what to do?
The chiefest cause thereof is Auarice,
And greedinesse of getting gaine and gold:
Which most accursed and pestiferous vice,
So great a sway within Priests hearts doth hold,
That with the force thereof it makes them blind,
And vnto wicked motions stirs their mind.
For certainly there is no man that liues
Vpon the earth that is more rauenous,
Nor vnto vs so bad examples giues
Of greedinesse, nor is more covetous
Then Priests, to scrape & catch all that they may.
For true it is, that long since many a day,
It hath been so fast rooted in the heart
Of Priests, that are so much therewith in loue,
That nothing what so ere can make it part
Out of the same, nor it from thence remoue:
For tis so firmely grafted in their sect,
That it makes them all holines neglect.
For gold is now so glistring and so bright,
That naturally it draws men to the same
Like th'Adamant, and dasleth so the sight
Of Priests, that they do only beare the name,
To be the men that earnestly embrace
That wicked vice of covetousnes, and place
It in their greedy ravening minds so well,
That vertue doth not once so soone begin
To moue their hearts, but vice doth it expell,
And will not suffer it to enter in:
Such force it hath all goodnes to supplant.
As by this wicked Troyan Priest Tonant
You may too well perceiue, that traitrously
The holy jmage to Anthenor sold;
While Priam and the Troyans busily,
Collected silver, corne, and store of gold,
Of rich and poore, in readines to pay
Vnto the Grecks: which treasure they did lay
And shut within Mineruaes▪ Temple, there
To be reseru'd till all the covenants made▪
On either of their sides performed were,
As they instructions from Anthenor had:
Which done, the King and all the Troyans went
Vnto Apollos Temple, with intent
To call vpon his name, and to adore
His Altars, and thereon in Paynim wise,
(In hope of grace) his aid and helpe t'implore.
And when they had begun to sacrifice,
And lay the beasts, the incense, and the blood
Vpon the Altars, as the priests then stood
Before the same, and went about to make
The wood to burne: two strāge things did appeare,
The one was, that it would no fier take,
Nor mount vp to the aire with flames most cleare,
As it at other times was woont to do,
Although they still did adde more fire thereto.
And ten times kindled it but't would nor bee,
For still it quencht againe, and did no other
But cast out filthy smoake, as oft we see
Lyme when it is with water sleckt doth smother.
So that with all the meanes they deuise,
For want of fier they could not sacrifice,
T'appease their Idoll God Apollos ire.
The other thing was this, that when they laid
The offring on the Altar, while the fire
Was kindling, and burnt not (as it is said)
An Eagle did descend downe from the skie,
And with a great and mightie noise did flie
Vnto the Altar where the offring lay,
And seazing on it with his tallents, tooke
It lightlie vp and bare it cleane away,
While all the people sore amaz'd did looke
And gase on him with extreame dread & feare,
But th'Eagle soring ore the Towne, did beare
It swiftly thence in all the Troyans sight,
And flying with it towards the Greeks, at last
Descended, and vpon their ships did light,
And into them the offering did cast:
Which when the Troyans saw they had great feare,
And iudg'd thereby the Gods offended were
Against the Towne, because the fire went out.
And therefore to enquire what those things ment,
And t'ease their minds, and put them out of dout,
Vnto Cassandra presently they sent,
To pray her that she would them certifie,
What those two strange events might signifie.
Who told them that the quenching of the fire,
Was vnto them a demonstration▪
And certaine signe of great Apollos ire,
And of the wrathfull indignation,
Which he most iustly did vnto them beare,
Because that in despight, without all feare
Of him they kild Achilles traiterously
Within his holie Temple, and did staine
The same with blood, and after cruelly
When they had him therein so falsly slaine,
Without respect of place or person drew
His bodie thence, and vnto dogs it threw.
For which, she said, (t'appease his wrath and ire)
They must go to Achilles tombe by night,
And there devoutly at the sacred fire
Which burned at the walke, their Tapers light:
And with that fire (the which without all doubt,
She said, would not by any meanes go out.)
New offrings make with great devotion,
Which would before Achilles burne most cleare,
That so they might giue satisfaction
To him for murthering of Achilles, where
His name ador'd should be, the which they made
In manner as she them commanded had.
For th'Eagle that with th'offring way did flie
Vnto the Greeks, she bad them take good heed,
And said, that it did plainly signifie,
That all the Gods together had decreed;
That Troy should by some treason be destroyd,
And that by no meanes they could it avoyd.
For as they saw the Eagle when she fled▪
With th'offring to the Greeks, so should they see
The Towne that had so long time flourished
In honor great, and wealth, deliuered bee
Into the Grecians hands, and vtterly
Defast by them with most great cruelty.
Mineruaes Image could not helpe them then,
Which they had lost by their owne negligence.
For it most sure and certaine is, that when
Gods sentence is pronounst, there's no defence
Against it to be made, for every man
Must stand to his decree do what they can.
The Grecians likewise woondring much (when as
They saw the Eagle with the offering
Come flying so) said, surely that it was
A signe of some most strange and secret thing
That should be brought to passe, and for it had
Great feare, till Calchas exposition made
Thereof to them, and bad them not to doubt,
Nor stand in feare at all of any thing,
For that the issue thereof would fall out
Vnto their good, and they t'effect should bring
That for the which they long had quarrelled,
And so much of their Grecian bloud had shed:
And willed them therefore no cost to spare,
To make an end of their great enterprise,
And to that end did wish them to prepare
Some thing to offer for a sacrifice
To Pallas: and to shew his traiterous mind
To Troy, he did a strange invention find:
The effect whereof was thus. When he perceaued
King Priam was perswaded to a Peace
By false Anthenors meanes, as cleane bereaued
Of all reliefe and hope of warre to cease:
And that Anthenor, and Aeneas both
As traiterous as himselfe, were very loth
To be discouered in their treachery,
Before that they had brought the same to passe,
To further them in their great villany,
He told the Grecians that their best way was,
To make a shew to offer sacrifice
Vnto Minerua, in their Paynim wise.
Whereby (he said) he would a meanes deuise,
That they the Towne shold take without all doubt,
And get the spoile of all their enemies.
Which that they might the better bring about,
He counselled them to make a horse of brasse,
The which of such a mightie greatnes was,
That it within the body of it held
A thousand valiant knights that close did lie
Hid in the same, well arm'd with speare & shield,
Which framed was by craft and subtiltie
Of Synon, and of Appius the wise,
That with him ioyned were in that deuise.
Which horse the Grecians purposely should bring
Before the Towne, pretending (as they said)
That they would giue it for an offering
To Pallas, and by Calchas counsell praid
King Priam, that he would vouchsafe them leaue
To set it in her Temple, and to giue
Them liberty to enter in the Towne,
To offer vnto her a sacrifice,
Before they sailed downe to Tenadowne.
And by this false and politicke deuise,
They found the meanes to take the town of Troy,
And did the same in cruell wise destroy.
But ere that they did bring the same to passe,
When as the fai [...]d articles were made,
The Kings by whome king Priam aided was,
While he against the Grecians warred had;
Perceauing that the Troyans would haue peace,
And that therby their bloudy war should cease:
As many of them as then liuing were,
Did take their leaues of Priamus, and went
Againe into their Lands and Countries where
They raigned kings, when they had lost & spent
Both mony & men: mong whom king Philomene
Did take with him the body of the Queene
Of Amazons, that was by Pyrrhus slaine.
And of two thousand knights that with him came
To Troy, there went but fiftie backe againe:
The rest (vnto their everlasting fame)
Were slaine in fight against the Grecians.
And of a thousand Amazonians
That came to Troy in Priamus defence,
There was but iust foure hundred of them left,
To beare their Queens dead body way fro thence,
The rest were by the Greeks of life bereft:
Who being gone, the next day following,
The Troyan Lords and Priamus their king.
Met with the Greeks in open field, and there
Conferred of the Peace on either side,
Where for the Grecians Diomede did sweare,
That they would firmely stand to, and abide
By all that which they had agreed vpon
In treaty with Anthenor, and that none
Of all the Greeks the contrary would do.
Wherein the Troyans and King Priamus
Were much deceau'd, and tooke no heed vnto
His double oath, as not suspitious
Of treason meant therby: for he did take
His oath in generall tearmes, & did not make
Rehearsall of the points particular
That were agreed vpon. For his intent
Was only with a false pretence to sweare,
T'obserue and keepe the treaty fraudulent,
The which Anthenor with the Grecians made,
Contrary vnto that which Priam had
Been made belieue by him to haue been done.
For by the oath they tooke, they did include
And meant that treason only greed vpon
And swore thereto, intending to delude
The Troyans, and to catch them in a trap,
From whēce they neither could nor should escape.
Cleane contrarie to that the Troyans ment.
They made a shew as if they peace would make,
But bloudy warre was onlie their intent,
And outwardlie a fained oath did take
T'obserue the peace; but treason was the end
And drift which they did secretly pretend.
But though they valid and covered it with show
Of peace, therewith to blind the outward eie,
Yet he that all mens secret thoughts doth know,
Perceiued that their oath was but a lie.
He that professeth truth and doth pretend
No such thing, but thereby deceaues his frend,
Is not to be belieud what ere he bee,
Because the vow he makes is but a lie:
And though into mens hearts we cannot see,
That sweare and take their oaths so craftilie,
Yet he that craftilie doth lie and sweare,
Doth wilfullie by craft himselfe forsweare,
Whereto he can make no exception.
For God that knows mans heart and secrets all,
Condemneth him that with intention
Sweares falslie to betray his friend withall.
As Diomede did traiterouslie deceaue
The Troyans, that did verilie belieue
His oath had been without all fraud and guile,
As having no suspition in their hearts,
That they should be betraied by a wile,
Which at the last they all too dearelie bought:
When as they found the Grecians did contrarie
Vnto their oath, and from their promise varie.
But longer to entreat hereof were vaine,
Let it suffice't was all but treacherie,
The which the more to hide they tooke againe▪
Queene Helena: and therewith presentlie
The monie which the Troyans were to pay,
Was broght vnto the plaine the selfe same day,
And with the flower and meale delivered
Vnto the Greeks, as they agreed had,
The which they caused to be carried
Vnto their ships. And then as Calchas made
And laid the plot, with fain'd devotion,
And great and foule dissimulation,
And holines vaild with hipocrisie,
The Grecians praid king Priamus that they
Might by his licence haue free libertie
In Pallas Temple (ere they went away)
Devoutlie t'offer for oblation,
The horse of Brasse in satisfaction
To her, for th'jmage which they stole frō thence.
(If Priamus would grant them so to do)
That she therby forgetting their offence,
Might bee bening to them when they should go
By sea to Greece, and helpe them in their need.
To which King Priam presently agreed,
As having no suspition that he should
Haue been betraid thereby, and gaue consent
That they should do't when s'ever that they would:
And was the willinger therewith content,
Because Anthenor and Aencas both
(Whom he then thoght did meane good faith & troth▪
Perswaded him thereto: although they knew
The Greeks intent was thereby to obtaine
Their wills of Troy, which after did ensue.
And to that end the Greeks straight on the plaine,
Began with speed and mightie diligence
T'remoue the horse, and with much reverence,
And great and extreame force to draw the same,
As neere vnto the towne as well they could.
But when vnto the gate therewith they came,
It was so great that by no meanes it would
Go in thereat, who when the Grecians saw,
They staid, & did thēselues frō thence withdraw,
And left it there before the gate, and went
Downe in their ships to Tenadon, to stay
There till they had effected that they ment
To bring to passe. Who being gone away,
King Priam and the Troyans that were glad
Of their retract, supposing that they had
Been gone indeed, set ope the gates of Troy.
Whereat the common people issuing out
Into the plaine, with signes of extreame ioy
Ran to behold the horse, and went about
The field whereas the Greeks incamped lay,
While they before the towne of Troy did stay.
And as they viewd the place, and lookt vpon
The Grecians huge and monstrous horse of brasse,
And every man his iudgement gaue thereon,
The Troyan knight Timeres counsell was
To draw't into the Towne, but some that there
About it stood, and somewhat wiser were,
As Capas, and some others, flatly bad
Them throw the treasons of the Greeks away,
Or that forthwith a fire should be made
To melt it, or else that without delay
They should it breake in pieces small, to see
What secret thing might therein hidden be.
Wherewith the people that amaz'd did stand,
In sundrie minds diuided were, till that
Lycaon came with mightie speare in hand,
And many following him demanded what
They meant to do, and entring mongst the throng,
Said Troyan knights, you do your selus great wrong.
Belieue you that the Greeks are gone away?
Or that there's any goodnes in their gifts?
Thinke you that for our benefit we may
Giue credite to Ulisses subtill drifts?
Ile pawne my life that in this horse lies hid
A multitude of Greeks, or that they did
Devise it for an engine wherewithall
By night to scale our Towne, and so to win
The same by force; take heed, you know not all,
What misterie so ever is therein:
I feare the Greeks (said he) & will not trust
Their gifts, & therewith gaue so great a thrust
Against it with his speare, that it did shake,
And with the same was heard so great a sound
Within the hollow horse, that it did make
The noise thereof throughout the aire rebound:
Whereby, had not the Troyans hearts been blind,
Enough was done the Grecians craft to find,
And Troy vntill this day had flourished.
Mean time by chāce the Troyan sheepherds caught
A man, who with his hands fast pinioned,
In hast vnto King Priamus they brought:
One, that into their hands fell purposelie,
And in his heart was fullie bent to trie
How he could worke the Troyans to beguile,
Or if he faild, was resolute to die.
Who, when he had stood still a little while,
Before the King, and each man cast his eie
On him, & some of them at him did flout,
He seem'd to sigh, (but marke how it fell out,
And you shall here the Grecians treasons see,
And by this one, coniecture all the rest.)
For as he stood in shew perplext to bee▪
And with his hand did smight vpon his brest:
Alas (said he) what ground may me receaue?
What hope can I poore caytife now conceaue▪
That neither with the Grecians dare abide,
And now among the Troyans captiue here,
Stand at their mercie readie to be tride,
And to receaue the doome of death I feare:
For that (as reason is) they thirst my blood,
The which to shed I know would do them good.
This mournfull tale by him so vttered,
The Troyans hearts of rigor did bereaue;
And being by them somewhat pittied,
They askt him what he was, and gaue him leaue
To tell his tale, and plainlie to expresse
His mind: to whome (he said) I will confesse
The truth (O King) of all that I do know.
And first I must needs say a Greeke I am,
For though that fortune false hath now broght low
Poore Synon; (for so called was his name)
Yet shall she never make nor proue him lier,
Nor cause him to become a flatterer.
If ere you heard of King Pallamides,
And of his valor great and Chivalrie,
Who traiterouslie because he did displease
The Greeks, by them condemned was to die:
Vpon suggestion that he favored
Their enemies, but after he was dead,
They wished he had been aliue againe.
His Squire I was and also kinsman neare,
To whome my father (I must needs tell plaine)
For pouertie put me his shield to beare,
And Armes to practise while he flourished:
Who living, I was lou'd and honoured.
But after that by false Vlisses drifts,
He was betraid and brought vnto his end,
With griefe and woe I was put to my shifts,
Pittying the fall of my vnguiltie frend:
But (like a foole) I could not hold my peace,
Nor yet frō hard & thratning words would cease.
But still I vowd, if ere returne I might
To Greece againe, (as they deserued had)
I would his death vpon his foes require,
Which was the cause of all my woe, and made
Vlisses to invent new crimes gainst me,
Whereby I was suspect and held to be
A traitor gainst the Greeks, and favorite
To th'enemie: and not content with that,
He rested not, till Calchas by his wit
Had found a meanes to end my life. But what
Should I rehearse such things as needlesse be
To you, and would no good procure to me?
But if you still to hate the Greeks persist,
Let it suffice, you haue me here alone,
On whome you may take vengance if you list:
The which that it were brought to passe & done▪
Ulisses and Artidos much would spend.
And with that word he paus'd, & made an end
Of speaking, which did make them more desire
To know the circumstances of his tale,
Suspecting not his craft, and did require
Him into his discourse againe to fall:
Who trembling (though therein he did but faine)
With shew of feare spake vnto them againe,
And said, full oft the Greeks would haue been gone,
And left their siege, and ouer seas haue past
To Greece againe, for that not any one
Of them but wearie was, the warre did last
So long, and they their bloud & liues did spend
Therein, & could not bring it to an end.
And gone they had, but that the seas did rise
And often rage, and southern winds did blow,
And caus'd them swell and mount vnto the skies,
And foming over brinks and banks to flow,
And made them stay: but specially when as
They had devis'd & fram'd this horse of brasse;
So great a noise of thunder then was heard,
And round about the skies the lightning flasht,
That it did make them generally affeard,
And for that cause they were so much abasht,
That they did send Euripalus to know
Of Phoebus, what those tempests did fore-show.
At whose returne, this answere he did make,
And said, with blood (oh Greeks) of maiden slaine,
A wind you had vnto you given, to take
Your voyage vnto Troy; and must againe
With blood returne, for one of you must die,
The furie of the Gods to satisfie,
Ere you a wind can haue. Which news once blown
Into the Grecian eares, each man with feare
Did tremble, and would willingly haue known
On whom the lot should fall, as then to beare
That punishment▪ and for the rest should die.
At which time when Ulisses did espie
Advantage, he praid Calchas to declare
The name of him that therefore should be slaine,
That all the rest might freed be of care.
And many closely spake, & some said plaine
Twas I, for that they all acquainted were
What secret malice he to me did beare,
And some thereof vnto me warning sent.
But ten daies twas ere Calchas would it show,
For he did seeme to be much discontent,
And loath that any man from him should know
Who't was that suffer should for all the rest.
Till that Ulisses with his promise prest
And vrged him so much, that with one voice
The lot was cast on me, and me they name,
And glad they were of me to make their choice,
For each man of himselfe did feare the same:
And to be sure with speed layd hands on me.
But when the time drew neere that I should be
Vpon the Altar offred, and that they
The garlands full of daintie fruits did set
Vpon my head, I slily stole away,
(I must confesse) and speedily did get
Into a place all full of mud and ose,
And there lay hid, and durst not once disclose
My selfe, till they were vndersaile, and gone.
And by this meanes my natiue Land haue lost,
And of the Grecians here am left alone,
And nere shall see my children, and which most
Torments me, feare, because I scapt away,
They will both them and my poore father slay,
And they shall guiltles die, and suffer wrong
For my offence. Wherefore I humbly pray
(If any pitty doth remaine among
Men here on earth) that I some favor may
(O King) receiue vnfainedly of thee,
And that thou wouldst content and pleased bee
To ease my woe, and pittie my estate,
Which is so bad that I no friends can find,
Because that all the Grecians do me hate.
This wofull tale so moued Priams mind,
And made him his distressed case to mone,
That he did will there should no harme be done
To him, and bad vnbind his hands, and said,
What ere thou art, forget the Grecians now,
For of them here thou needst not be affraid,
Thou shalt be free, so that thou wilt vs show
Who did this huge and monstrons horse invent,
Why was it made? was it because they ment
To offer it vnto Pallas? or was't not
An engin made by them to vse in warre?
Whereto (when he had so much fauor got,
And saw himselfe to be set free from care
And feare of death) he said, (with ioyfull cry,
And lifting both his hands vp to the skie;)
O everlasting fires of God, that are
So terrible that no man can endure
The force thereof! I here by you do sweare:
And oh you swords, and sacred Altars pure,
I do you vnto witnesse call, and say,
(Protesting by the goodly garlands gay,
That like a beast to slaughter brought, I ware,
Vpon my head in that most dolefull day)
That by my will I do not now declare
The secrets that should not be knowne, nor say
That willingly I do my Country hate.
But sith their cruell deeds and cursed fate,
Compell me therevnto, it lawfull is
For me to tell that which they would conceale,
And hope that if therein I do amisse,
The Gods will pardon me, as now I deale
Vprightly in this case. Wherefore (oh Troy)
Which by this meanes to thy no little ioy,
I do preserue, in like case saue thou me,
Performe thy word, for I to thee hereby
Procure great wealth, and much prosperitie.
The hope of all the Grecians specially,
Since that this long and bloudie warre began
In Pallas was, till that Titides ran
Like mad man with (the Father and the head
Of mischiefes all) Ulisses, and by night
Into Mineruaes Temple entered,
And slew the watch, and then by force and might
Their hands embru'd with bloud, (where no defēce
Gainst him was made) her jmage tooke frō thence.
For from that day good fortune from them fled,
And nothing did vnto their minds fall out,
No hope they had, nor comfort followed,
What ere they tooke in hand, or went about:
For Pallas did them vtterlie forsake.
And with some doubtfull signes of war to make,
And put them in great feare, when they did bring
Her jmage to the Campe, and downe it set,
Her eies like flames of fire glistering
Did shew, and all her body ore did swet:
And thrise she rose (whereat they woondered)
And shook her speare & shield thrise ore her head.
For which they were by Calohas bid to go
Vnto their ships, and put to sea in hast,
For that (said he) belieue me it is so,
All hope for vs at this time cleane is past:
And though that they are gone from thence a while,
And vnto Greece returnd, it's but a wile.
For their intent is but to pacific
Their Gods in Greece, and then to come againe
When wind doth serue, & with a new supplie,
A hotter warre against you to maintaine:
And this by Calchas counsell they haue done.
And for amends to Pallas, and to shun
Her wrath for that most foule & great offence,
By them committed gainst her Deity,
They were by visions warn'd ere they went hence,
This Horse that is so huge of quantity,
In this same place where now it stands, to set.
Which Calchas hath caus'd to be made so great;
(For it was Calchas worke and only drift)
Because they feared you would enterprise,
When they were gone, the same by force to lift
Into the Towne, which they would in no wise
Haue you to do, because you should not call
On Pallas name, nor worship him at all.
For if you should this gift of hers deface,
Destruction great without all doubt would fall
On Priams princelie bloud, and would it race
Out of the world for a memoriall
In time to come, to make all men to feare
To do the like. But if you could it beare
Into the Towne, and on your wals it set,
The Greeks of you would stand in mightie feare,
And Conquests great against them you should get,
And they, despight their harts, great losse shold bear.
By this deceit of Synon false periur'd,
They credite gaue to him, and were allur'd
To worke their owne decay by that same horse,
Whom neither stout Achilles, nor the warre
That ten yeares held, nor all the Grecians force
Could make to yeeld, nor for their foes to care:
And while they stood this craftie tale to heare,
The which he told with many a fained teare,
Another thing at that same time fell out,
Which put them in a mightie maze, and fild
Their valiant hearts with extreame feare & doubt.
Which was, as Neptunes Priest Lycaon kild
A Bull vpon his Altar, and the same
Did offer vnto him, behold there came
Two mightie Serpents swimming to the shore,
Whose vglie heads they might far off behold,
And see their backs & huge long tailes that bore
The sea aloft, and in the waues did fold
And turne, and whirle the water round about,
Who with their fiery eies came fiercely out
Vpon the land, and at them hissing ran
With gaping mouths, wherwith in mighty feare
They all began to flie away, and whan
The Serpents hard by Neptunes Altar were,
They set vpon Lycaons children twaine,
And with their claws their tender lims did straine,
And tearing them in pieces, fed so fast
On them, that they with speed devoured were.
Which when Lycaon saw, he ran in hast
With sword in hand to saue their liues, but there
Was no defence against them to be made.
For when as they children eaten had,
They ran and claspt Lycaon round about
The body and the necke in cruell wise,
Who mightily stroue with them to get out
Their furious clawes, with great & fearefull cries:
(Like to a Bull that's tide vnto a stake
For to be kild, doth mighty roaring make,)
But all in vaine, for nothing could him aid▪
And when that he was kild, they tooke their way
Vnto Mineruaes Temple, where they laid
Themselues downe at her feet, & there did stay:
Wherewith a mighty trembling feate did fall,
With wonder new & strange vpon them all.
For they suppos'd and thought it to be true,
That for because Lycaon with his speare
Had run against the horse, that as a due
Deserved plague that punishment he bare:
And therefore all of them did cry and say,
Why bring you not this horse without delay
Into the Towne, the Goddesse wrath t'appease.
And presently the people did begin
To batter downe their wall, and did not cease
Till they had made a mighty brech therein:
Which done, they set the horses feet vpon
Huge planks with wheels, that it might slide there on,
And with great ropes about his necke did draw
The fatall horse, with men and armor full.
Which when the women with their children saw,
They leapt, & daunst, & singing holpe to pull
And hale it in, and glad was he that could
By any meanes vpon the ropes lay hold.
And in that sort it entred in the Towne,
(Vnhappy men to breed their owne decay)
For as they drew and shou'd it vp and downe
Along the streets of Troy, vpon the way
Foure times it swai'd & iog'd against the ground,
And euery time they heard the armor sound.
Within the same; yet on with it they went,
And blind with fond desire they had to get,
That mōstrous horse brought in, were not content,
Till they had it by Pallas Temple set:
Wherewith Cassandra plainly did them shew
By spirit diuine, what would thereof ensew.
But they that for her words did little care,
Belieu'd her not, but like to sencelesse men,
The Temples strew'd with hearbs, & did prepare
As solemne feasts (as if that they had been
Secur'd and freed from dangers, whatso ere
Might happē whē poore wretched men they were
At point of death, and as we vse to say,
With one foot stepping in the graue, & had
No longer time to liue, but one short day)
And so great triumph for the time then made,
That nere the like before was seen in Troy.
(But true it is) that after extreame ioy,
As oft we find, ensues adversitie,
And after peace (when men do liue secure
Without all feare in great felicitie,
And thinke that it for euer will endure)
Comes cruell warre, for there's no certainty
In worldly blisse, full of variety
Deceit and guile, vnhappines and trouble,
And neuer in one state doth long remaine,
Not much vnlike vnto a water-bubble,
Which riseth vp & straight falls downe againe:
For though that men haue wealth & riches great,
And on the top of fortunes wheele are set,
Yet vnawares she soone doth cast them downe.
As you may well behold and plainly see
Here in this Booke, by Troy the ancient Towne,
Which thought it selfe for euer safe to be:
By bring in that mighty horse of brasse,
Which th'only cause of their destruction was.
And when that they in extreame ioy had spent
The day without all care, till it was past,
And that the christall firmament had sent
Darke night with clouds the skies to ouercast:
While that the wearied Troyans on the wall
Lay carelesly, and some on sleepe did fall
As fearing nought. The Grecians armie soone
From Tenadon with all their Navie came,
And guided by the cleare bright shining Moone,
With silence great did land, and made a flame
Of fire out of their admirall, to show
That they were there, and to let Symon know
They were prepard to ioyne with him, when he
Had done his feat within the Towne, who when
He started vp, and looking out did see
The light from thence, he stole out and began
To turne the gins that in the horse were made
And when that he his bellie op'ned had,
He called out Ulisses, Athamas,
Thesander, Machon, and King Menalus,
Pyrrhus, Achilles son, (that also was
Surnamed by the Greeks Neoptolimus,)
King Thoas, and a number more beside,
Who soone out of the Horses panch did slide:
And presently vpon the walles did go
And there fast sleping found the watch, whom they
Did fiercely kill, and when they had done so,
Vnto the gates in hast they went there way,
And brake them vp, and then out of the towne
Did hang a light, which they at Tenadowne
Perceiuing armd themselues, and fiercely ride
To Troy-ward, where their fellows watch did keepe
And ready stood their comming to abide
At midnight, when sound sleep on men doth crepe
And furiously throughout the Citie ran,
And sparing neither woman, child, nor man.
Kild all they found with extreame cruelty,
For they as then fast sleeping lay in bed,
And little did suspect such trechery,
Till that they felt with gastly wounds that bled,
Their enemies blowes and saw no remedy
But by their hands in cruell wise to die.
For neither sex nor age by them was spard,
Whereby a mighty crie and noise did rise
Within the towne, the which when Priam hard,
(Who little did suspect his enemies:
So falsely had betraid him, and that
The towne by them was tane) but al to late
He found, and by experience too well knew
Anthenor and Aeneas had betraid
The towne and him into their hands, & drew
That traiterous plot, the which they falsely said,
Was for his and their good in generall,
But it was don to blind his eies withall.
Till they fit oppertunitie might haue,
To bring't passe, in such sort as they had
Agreed with the Greeks, which was to saue
Themselue on such conditions as they made
In secret wise, and cleane contrary told
To Priamus, which then he might behold
To well, for at that time the trechery
Which with such traitrous hearts they had cōceild,
Was seene and by the Grecians cruelty,
Vnto the townes, and his decay reueald,
And th'Authors knowne, when as no remedy
Was to be found, t'auoyd th'extremity
That on him fell, for then the towne was tane,
And all the loftie towers thereof began
With fierto burne, and euery street & lane
Was fild with Greeks, and nothing hard therein
But lamentable cries and woefull grones,
Of men, that dying lay vpon the stones
Within the streets, and howses, and that fled
Before the Greeks, in mighty dread and feare▪
Amazed sore he rose out of his bed,
And sheading many a salt and brinsh teare
Ran to Apolloes Temple comfortles,
T'escape if that he might in that distresse.
Meane time the towne was of a flaming fier,
Which merciles consumd and spoyled all,
And Greeks on euery side with great desire
To be reuenged vpon the Troians fall,
And murthered and beat them downe so fast,
That while that most accursed night did last
Ere Phoebus shoane the next ensueing day
They slew of them boue twenty thousand men,
And forcibly did take and bare away
Their [...]iluar, gold, & all their goods, and then
With mighty rage & extreame violence,
They sackt & spoyld without all reuerence
The Temples of the Gods throughout the towne,
And in despight of them with courage bold,
Did fiercely rent, and furiously pull downe
Their ornaments of siluer and of gold,
In presence of the Gods that then were there,
While Priamus with sad & heauy cheare
Before Apollo kneeld, and to him praid
Devoutly to relieue him, but in vaine,
For at that time there was no hope of aid,
That he by any meanes could then obtaine:
But onely there with patience to attend,
By cruell death his woefull life to end.
Whereof without all doubt he was most sure,
Ere long time past by Grecians hand to haue,
And Cassandra that holy creature,
Her selfe likewise in that distresse to saue,
Vnto Mineruaes Temple did repaire,
Accompanied with many a Lady faire,
And other Gentle-women of the towne;
Who there with sobs most bitterly did crie,
And made their woefull lamentation,
Attending euery hower when they should die.
Wherein ile let them with the goddesse dwell,
For if that I their sorrowes all should tell,
And show how they in euery lane and street
Lay groueling on their Lords and husbands deare,
And suckt their wounds, & all their cloths did wet,
And staind, and di'd them with the blood that there
Out of their bodies ran, that wofully
Beheld them with a pale and deadly eye.
It would be ouer long for me to write,
And tedious likewise for you to heare.
But to proceed, when they had all that night,
Nere ceast to kill and ransacke euery where,
The people, and the towne, and spard not one;
Next day in heaps they went to Ilion,
King Priamus most faire and Princely hall,
Wherein they found not one to make defence
Against them, nor to keepe the same, for all
The people in great feare were fled from thence
To saue their liues, and left it desolate,
Where all the gold and riches of the state,
Enclosed lay within the treasory,
The lockes whereof they brake, and bare away
The treasure therein found, and cruelly
Did fier the howse, for no man durst say nay,
Nor let them to pursue their enterprise.
Then Pyrrhus in most fierce and furious wise
Went to Divine Apolloes Temple, where
Before the Altar with great cruelty,
While Priamus deuoutly praied there,
In humble wise t'Apollo on his knee,
With fury great not speaking any word:
Into the body ran him with his sword,
And gaue him such a deepe and deadly wound
That presently he fell vpon his face,
And pitifully died on the ground,
And with his blood defild the holy place.
Aeneas and Anthenor standing by,
As witnesses of his great cruelty.
Whose death when as Queene Hecuba perceiud,
And on the ground there lying did behold
His bleeding corse, she seemed cleane bereaud
Of sences, and in wofull wise did fold
And wring her hands, and pitiously did crie,
And in great feare out of the Church did flie
With Pollicene her daughter, (who together
Were present when King Priamus was slaine,)
To saue their liues, and yet they knew not whether
To go no [...] run, for no man durst maintaine
Their quarrell, nor no comfort then was left
For them, that of the same were cleane bereft.
For all the towne in euery place was fild
With Greeks, that throgh, twith glistring swords did run,
And euery where the Troians fiercely kild,
That had no meanes their cruelty to shun.
And as she ran in that sort through the streete,
It was her chance Aeneas there to meet,
Whom when she saw, her flesh began to shake
And tremble with the griefe she had in mind,
And therewithall in fury great she spake,
And sayd to him, oh Traitor most vnkind!
Oh serpent false! oh Adder enuious!
Oh villaine vile, and most malicious!
Thou that art causer by thy wickednes
Of all our woes, and through thy trechery
Hast brought vs now into so great distresse;
That plunged in the vale of misery,
We run from place to place distrest in mind,
And can no ease at all nor comfort find.
How couldest thou in heart be so vnkind
Vnto thy Lord and King, as traiterously
To stand by with a fierce and cruell mind,
And see him slaine by Pirrhus cruelly
Within the Temple, where he shead his blood,
Who while he liu'd was vnto thee so good,
And gratious Lord, that neuer any man
Felt more of his great liberalitie,
Nor was more lou'd, (as all men witnes can)
Then thou by him, (which thou maist not deny.)
Who now lies dead within that holy place:
Thou wast not only traitor in that case▪
But didst conspire his death, for thou didst bring
Fierce Pirrhus to Apolloes Temple, where
Thou knewest well that he should find the King,
Of purpose set, that he might kill him there,
Where as thou shouldst (as dutie doth thee bind)
Haue saud his life, if thou hadst been so kind.
But thou not only hast that mischiefe don,
But didst betray this towne where thou wast bred,
And fostred with more reputation
Then any man, saue he that was the head
And King thereof, which now forgotten is
By thee, wherein though thou hast done amisse,
Yet if within thy stony heart there be
One drop of pittie or compassion,
Let me request this favor now of thee,
That in this time of desolation,
Thou wilt my daughter Pollicene relieue,
And vnto her some ayd and succour giue,
If thou dost any one respect at all
Of Priams race, (as sure thou canst not choose,)
That she by thy protection may not fall
Into the Grecians hands, her life to loose:
That when men shall this woefull story read,
And find therein this fowle & treacherous deed
By thee so falsely done, and brought to pas
Against this towne, it may the rigor stay
Of those that will judge and condemne thee as
A Traytor vile, and giue them cause to say,
That though thou didst this great & wicked thing,
Yet at the last thou shewdst thy selfe bening,
And gratious vnto Pollicene, whereby
Some little satisfaction thou shalt make,
In recompence of thy great treachery
To vs, and giue her cause thy part to take:
When men of thee (to her) shall justly say,
And call thee Traytor false another day.
If thou wilt now vouchsafe her life to saue▪
But as for me do what thou wilt, all's one,
I neither do, nor will thy fauor craue.
For sith my Lord King Priams dead & gone,
I care not though that thou some Grecians bidst
Do vnto me, as vnto him thou didst.
This motion made by Hecuba the Queene,
Though sharp it were, did moue Aeneus so,
That pittying faire Lady Pollicene,
He caused her forthwith with him to go,
And shut her in a chamber secretly,
From sight and knowledge of the enemy:
Least they thereby should find occasion
To picke some quarrell with him for her sake.
And at that time likewise King Thelamon
Of pity did in his protection take
The wife of Hector, cald Andromacha,
And Priams daughter Lady Cassandra.
And vnto them his Princely promise gaue,
To keepe them from the Grecians cruelty.
And Menalus Queene Helena did saue,
As she for whom with such hostilitie
He had been cause to moue that bloody warre,
And for whom long in heart he had such care.
The Greeks the while with hot and ragingire,
Neare ceast to breake and furiously pull downe
The walles, & to consume and burne with fire
The howses & rich buildings in the towne:
So that therein they left nothing vpright,
Nor vndefac'd, but with most great despight
Destroyed all without exception
Of any place or person whatsoere,
(Vnlesse twere those which by condition,
They had before protested to forbeare,
And did belong and appertaine vnto
Aeneas, and all those that did vnto
The treason by them practised consent.)
And from their fury great would not forbeare
That day, till King Agamemnon had sent
For all the Grecian Princes that were there,
To meet in Pallas Temple. Vnto whome,
When they therein were altogether come,
He asked them, if they would constantly
Obserue their faith and promise made to those,
By whom they had obtaind that victory,
Which they so long had sought against their foes▪
And what they would with all the treasure do
Which they within the towne had won? Wherto
They answered, that for their promise made,
And truely sworne vnto by them, they would
In each respect obserue it well, and sayd,
That all the gould and treasure gotten, should
By iust diuision be distributed
To euery man as he had merited:
Of what degree, estate, or dignity
Soere he was, and that it should be done
By him without all partialitie,
So that mong them there might not any one
Haue cause to be offended, nor to blame
Him for the true division of the same.
Which done, while they within the Temple staid,
Some speech about Queene Helena did rise,
Whereto when some had answere made, and sayd
Their minds therein as they could best aduise:
King Thelaphus with great seuerity
Sayd, that she well deserued had to die▪
For whom so many men their liues had lost,
And vrged, that she might haue iudgement giuen,
That as they dyed for her, it should her cost
Her life likewise, that day ere it was euen.
Which many more of them agreed vnto.
And cause for her there was so much ad [...];
Agamemnon and Menalus sat still,
And durst not speake one word to saue her life,
Least that the Greeks in [...]ury should her kill,
(There was mong them as then so great a strife.)
Till that Ulisses with much Eloquence,
And good perswasions made in her defence,
Did satisfie them all so well in th'end,
That they contented were that she should liue,
And ceasing more about her to contend,
To M [...]nalus they did her freely giue.
And when their Generall Agamemnon
Perceiued that they were agreed theron,
He made request to them, that they would giue
Cassandra vnto him for recompence
Of all his paines, and sayd while she did liue
He would her keepe; and when they went frō thēce
Take her with him: and they contented were
It should be so. And then before them there
Aeneas and A [...]henor to them told,
And iustified it vpon their oath,
That Helenus King Priams Son nere would
Agree vnto the war, but still was loath
That Priamus his Father, and the rest
Should take the same in hand, and did his best
To let it by his counsell and aduise,
And how that by the mediation
Of him, and of Cassandera the wise,
(Whose hearts were moued with compassion,)
Achilles murthered body was not made
A prey for hounds, as Hecuba had said
That it should be, and further that they were
Much grieued for the murther, and likewise
For many other matters that were there
Don in the towne, contrary to th [...]aduise
Which they from time to time had giuen to those,
That of the war had order to dispose.
To whom because that they were innocent
Of all the wrongs that to the Greeks were don,
They graunted with one voice and full consent,
That they should haue a full remission
And pardon of their liues. Then Helen [...]
With humble voyce and visage piteous,
Fell on his knees with great submission,
And thanking them for pardon to him giuen,
Submissiuely besought Agamemnon,
With many salt and brinish teares, that euen
As he had freely pardoned his offence,
(For which he could make him no recompence)
He would be pleasd to haue compassion
Vpon the silly blood of children,
And with a gratious eye to looke vpon
The sons of valiant Hector, who as then
Nere had don wrong to him▪ nor any other,
And that he would vouchsafe thē with their mother
(His widow left, all comfortles alone,)
A pardon of their liues and liberty.
To whom the King mou'd with compassion
At his request, did graunt securitie
Of life, and lim, and licence free to go
Whereas they list, the like he did vnto
The rest of all the women then in Troy,
That in the Grecian furie were not slaine,
And gaue to them free liberty t'enioy
Their dwellings there, or else-where to remaine
Within the land: for which most humbly
They gaue him thanks with many aioyfull crie▪
Which done, the King with all the Grecians went,
Out of the Church, and presently agreed
To leaue the towne, and to that end they sent
Their treasure and their men aboord with speed:
Intending to returne to Greece againe,
But such a sodaine storme of wind & raine,
With great and hideous tempests did arise
Vpon the surging seas, and such fowle weather
Of thunder and of lightning in the skies,
Continued for one whole moneths space together,
That none of them durst with their ships aduc̄ture
That dangerous time into the seas to enter.
But were constraind vpon the land to tarry
Till be [...]er wind and weather did ensue,
And finding it still more and more contrary,
They asked Calchas counsell if he knew
What those great stormes & tempests signified,
That them so long of passage had denied.
Who told them, that those stormes & tempests fell
By prouidence Diuine, that had provokt
The vgly, fowle, and furious fiends of Hell,
To moue the same, and could not be reuok't,
Nor yet would cease till they were punished
By death, that had Achilles murthered.
And that their God Apollo angry was,
Because thereby his Temple they did staine
With blood, and that therefore they should not pa [...],
Till they had pleased him with blood againe:
Which must be done by offering Pollicene,
(Who by her extreame beauty cause had beene,
And th'obiect of that cruell murther▪don
Vpon Achilles body,) to apease
And giue Apollo satisfaction:
The which he sayd, if they would haue the seas
Propice, they must needs do ere they went thencee
To take away all causes of offence.
This answere made, fierce Pyrrhus sought about
In euery place for Pollicene, but could
By no meanes heare of her, nor find her out,
Till some man at the last vnto him told,
That she was closely kept, and hidden by
Aeneas and Anthenor priuely.
Whereby so great a rumor suddenly
Arose gainst them, that by that meanes they were
In danger of their liues, till trayterously
Anthneor to auoid all cause of feare,
And better to make knowne his villany,
Had sought & searcht so long and busily,
That at the last he found her out, & brought
Her forcibly vnto the Greeks, and there
Deliuered her to them, (when she least thought
That she vnto her death had been so neare.)
Who presently without compassion,
Was iudged to die by King Agamemnon,
And taking care that execution
Vpon her should be done without delay,
He did giue order and commission
To Pyrrhus for the same, who made no stay,
But tooke her by the hand, and furiously
Drew her vnto the place where she should die.
Great was the presse that ran vnto that place,
To see and to behold young Pollicene
Who for her beauty, comlines, and grace,
Within the world her like had nere been seene:
So that they all were grieud that she should die,
And for because there was no remedy,
Let many a salt and bitter teare distill
Out of their eyes, for pittie to behold
Her woefull stare, and gladly by their will
Wisht that she might escape, & faine they would
Haue ventred to haue tane her forcibly
From Pyrrhus hands, but that they verily
Beleeud that without she died, they nere
Should haue faire wind, nor go to Greece againe
To see their Natiue Land, whereto they were
Most certainely perswaded by the vaine
Suggestions which their Prophet Calchas had,
Concerning her vnto them falsely made.
And when vnto Achilles graue she came,
Whereas the Grecians would her sacrifice,
She kneeled downe devoutly fore the same,
And lifting vp her faire and tender eies,
With wringing hands vnto the Gods she praid
In most submissiue wise, and thus she said.
OH mighty Gods that in the heauens abide,
And see and gourne all things whatsoere,
At whose command the world that is so wide,
And eke the seas and skies created were,
And by your word all formd & framd of nought,
To whom the depth & secrets of mans thought
Is knowne, for nothing from your Deities
By any meanes conceald or hid can [...]e;
I humbly pray your heauenly maiesties,
That you will now be mercifull to me,
And my poore soule into your hands receiue,
When bitter death shall me thereof bereaue
I do confesse with all humilitie,
That with a holy care of chastitie,
I haue preserued my virginitie
Vntill this day, wherein I now shall die
A maiden vndefild for thought or deed,
Although the Greeks haue iudged and decreed
To put me to this hard and cruell death,
The which I nere deserud (as you can tell,)
For as my conscience to me witnesseth,
And I in truth may sai▪t, & sweare it well,
I am most cleare of that which they accuse
Me for, & yet they will me not excuse,
But die I must to satisfie their will,
As they alledge because I gaue consent
My brother Paris should Achilles kill,
Whereas God knoweth I am an innocent,
And neuer did in will, deed, word, nor thought,
Giue my consent such treason should be wrought
Gainst him, whom I do know did loue me deare,
But was therefore right [...]ory in my hart,
Though presently as now it doth appeare,
I must for him endure great paine and smart,
Because they haue decreed (for his [...]ake)
That they on me alone will vengance take,
Without all mercy or compassion,
And offer me vp for a sacrifice,
T'appease the Gods great indignation.
Oh Grecians blind! me thinks you are not wi [...]e
So cruellie to seeke my death for nought,
And merciles to bend your hearts & thought,
To kill a poore & desolate young maid
That neuer did offence to any one:
For which it may full well of you be said,
That you haue hearts as hard as any stone,
And that you farre in cruelty excell
The Tyger fierce, and hungrie Lyon fell,
T [...]assent vnto so villainous a deed,
And to destroy a silly fearefull maid,
Vnto her death so hastily proceed,
As that it may by no meanes be delaid,
To giue her time and oppertunity
To mourne and weepe for her virginity,
For which your great and monstrous cruelty,
My giltles blood will sure for vengance call
Vnto the Gods, that shall with Equity
Iudge euery man on earth both great and small,
And make the truth of all things openly
Appeare, which now lie hidden secretly.
I say not this, nor yet doe I complaine
To haue redresse, or to released be
From death, as if that I did feare the paine
Thereof, for it's now welcomer to me
Then life, sith all my brethren now are dead,
And in this woefull towne lie buried.
My father slaine in this vnweldy age,
And I my selfe left desolate alone,
To see this towne by Grecians furious rage,
Brought into vtter desolation:
The which doth make my heauy heart so sore,
That I am able now to weepe no more,
And therefore wish for death to end my wo.
For now to liue were vnto me a death,
And better t'were out of this world to go,
And presently to end my vitall breath,
Then to be led into captiuity,
And there with strangers liue in pouerty.
And now good death no longer time delay
With thy most piercing dart my heart to riue,
Strike sure and firme, I will not start away,
Nor with thee in no wise contend nor striue,
Now is the time to shew thy power on mee,
That ready stand here to attend for thee.
A mayden true, and Virgin pure I am,
That neuer was nor would be known of man,
As pure in mind and thought as ere I came
Out of my mothers wombe, and boast I can
That when that I am dead it may be sayd,
That Pollicene did liue and die a mayd.
And now vnto the Gods I doe commend
My soule, of whom I craue submissiuely
In mercy to behold [...]e, and to send
Me patience in this great extremity.
And vnto euery mayden better grace,
Then t'end their liues in such a dolefull case.
And longer time to liue in wealth and ioy
Then I haue done, and to defend and saue
Them from all foule misfortune, and annoy,
Beseeching all good maids of me to haue
Remembrance, and example by me take,
How they of worldly [...]oy account shall make,
And that they would vouchsafe to shed some teares
For me when I am dead and out of date,
To thinke how I in my most tender yeares,
Did end my daies by death vnfortunate.
And thus vnto the Gods I do commend
My soule, said she, and so her speech did end.
And with that word she bowed downe her head,
And shut her eies, attending stroke of death,
Which Pyrrhus with a furious spirit led,
Gaue her, and soone bereaud her of her baeath:
And being dead his cruelty to show,
In peeces small he did her body hew,
As it vpon his Fathers graue did lie.
I muse how he could haue a heart so hard,
To mangle it so in peeces cruelly,
And not contented therewith afterward,
To satisfie his rage in furious mood
Like Tygar fierce did take her giltles blood,
And cast it with his hand all ore the graue.
Well mayst thou cruell Pirrhus rightly be,
Achilles son, for Nature to thee gaue
A gift to be as pi [...]les as he,
And worse, for that I neuer of him read
That in his life he did so foule a deed,
As in such sort to kill a silly mayd:
But for a woman fell great paine and smart,
And that he felt in loue as it is sayd
With Pollicene, for Cupid with his dart
Did wound him so by casting of his eye
On her, that he thought verely to die,
For loue of her, & how that twas his chance
To loose his life▪ for her whom thou didst kill
With fierce and furious mood, not by mischance,
But puposely thy pleasure to fulfill.
For which although thou thoghst it was no shame
Assure thy selfe the trumpe of flying Fame
Will through the world thy great dishonour spread
For doing of an act so horrible,
And when that men shall chance thereof to read,
Thy name will vnto them be odible.
Whose cruell death when Hecuba the Queene
(That standing by when it was don) had seene.
With extreame griefe she fell out of her wit,
And tare her ha [...]re, and furiously did set
Vpon the Greeks with tooth and naile, and bit
And scratcht, & beat all those that with her met,
And palted them with stones, till at the last
The Greeks laid hold on her & bound her fast.
And finally did take and beare her to
An Island to the Troyans subiect, where
They stoned her to death, and hauing so
Bereft her life, they made a sepulchre,
Most sumptuously compos'd of stone and brasse,
Wherein with great solemnity she was
Entombed, as belong'd to her estate,
Which Tombe stood there long after to be seen,
And called was the place vnfortunate.
And in this sort that great and worthy Queene,
Did end her daies distressed [...]ore, and mad:
When as the Greeks throgh Calchas counsell had,
By Pyrrhus hand her Daughter sacrifiz'd
Vnto their God Apollo, to appease
His furious wrath, who foolishly [...]urmiz'd
That they should never haue faire wind nor seas,
Vnlesse Achilles death revenged were
By death of Policene: for they did feare
The Gods would nere be pleased, nor content
To let them passe to Greece till it were done.
But God that sitteth in the firmament,
And is the true and only God alone,
Confound such false and fained Gods, and all
Their jmages, with those that on them call.
For they are nought but stocks that are without
All sence, wherein the diuell doth remaine,
And subtilly by them hath brought about
His purpose, man to moue (whose heart is vaine)
To pray to them, and trulie to belieue
That they are Gods, and can vs succour giue
In our distresse, and so induced hath
Mankind to leaue th'eternall God of heaven,
To pray to stocks and stones against the faith
Of Iesus Christ, that hath his body given
To death for him, & by such false illusion,
Hath brought him in such error and confusion,
As he belieueth by jdolatry,
And offring beasts and blood to jdols vaine,
That he doth serue the heavenly Maiesty
Of God, and shall remission free obtaine
Thereby for those offences he hath done:
But God confound them all and every one,
What title, name, or qualitie so ere
Idolaters vnto them giue. Whose number
So many are that name of Gods did beare,
That when I thinke thereon it makes me wonder:
The which that you as well as I may know,
I will their names to you in order show.
First Iupiter, Saturne, Mercurie,
Apollo, Daphne, Mars the God of warre,
Diana cald the Queene of Chastitie,
The guide of men by night Lucina faire,
And Iun [...] that most commonly doth dwell
In waters deepe, and Pluto God of hell.
Faire Venus Queene of lust and venery,
With Cupid blind her son, the God of loue,
Minerua Goddesse of activity,
The God of wine cald Bacchus, th [...]t doth moue
Men to desire the same, Dame Cithera,
And Plutoes louely Queene Proserpina.
Neptunus, Flora, Vulcan, Eo [...]us,
And Bell [...]des that thirsts, & still doth draw
Vp water in a Bucket, Sisyphus
Conde [...]nd to rowle a stone by fatall law,
And nere to cease, and hungry Ta [...]talus,
Th'jnfirnall fates, and Sisters furious,
That [...]ained are to spin the threed of life,
The Muses nine that sweetly sing and play,
Bellon [...] Queene of discord and of strife,
And double faced Ianus (whome they say
The Romanes did adore) and Priapus,
The angry fretting Priest cald Genius,
(That's said to curse all those that froward be,
To such as friendly are to them, and kind)
Imeneus (who hath authoritie,
The hearts of married couples fast to bind
In loue, till they are mou'd to disagree
By discord that twixt them sets enmitie.)
The Fayries that are vs'd by night and day,
In houses and in fields to sing and dance.
The water-Nimphs, and Siluan Gods that stay
In woods and groues, and many times by chance
Are seen of men, as Satyrs, Nay [...]des,
Bycornes, Fawnes, Incubs, and Dr [...]des,
With many more. And finally to close
And make the number compleat, Orph [...]s
The God of sleepe▪ but certainly all those
That to such Gods so vaine and [...]rivolus,
Do sacrifice or on them vse to call,
Will sure at last into some danger fall,
For recompence, of seruing them so well.
For all such false and faind Idolatrie
Proceedeth from the crafty fiend of Hell,
Who is so full of fraud and subtilty,
That he deuisd those Idoll Gods to frame,
And purposely did creepe into the same,
And spake in them, and answere made to those
That praid to them, and caused men thereby
To leaue the true and liuing God, to lose
Eternall blis in heauen, for certainely
All those that on such Idolls false do call,
Serue Belzebub, and cleane from God do fall.
As David in his Psalter doth declare,
That mong the Pagan Gods there is not one
That can relieue or aid vs, for they are
All made and framd of siluer, gold, or stone:
Or els of Copper, Brasse, Tin, Lead, or wood,
And that they neither can nor do man good.
For eies they haue and cannot see at all,
And eares likewise and yet they do not heare,
And legs and feet and cannot stand, but fall,
Vnlesse they leane, or somewhat doth them beare
And hold vpright: and therefore as he saith,
He that in them reposeth trust or faith,
Or to bow downe to them which take delight,
Let him be well assurd, that at the last
They will him with such recompence requite,
That head-long downe to hell he shall be cast,
With damned soules to dwell perpetually,
And that is his reward when he shall die.
And in this life misfortune dread and feare,
With many troubles that on men do light.
As famous stately Troy doth witnesse beare:
Which once was of such puissant force and might,
That it did thinke it selfe to be secure,
And that it should in that state long endure.
And gainst her foes to haue prevailed by
Apollo, Pallas, Iuno, Uenus, and
Diana faire, the Queene of Chastity,
Whome they were wont to honor in that land
With sacrifice, and worship great to show
To them, by whom they now are broght full low,
And vtterly destroid for euermore.
Whereby you see what is the end of all
That do such false and fained Gods adore,
And vnto them for helpe and succour call:
What did Mineruaes Image them preuaile,
By whom they hoped nere of aid to faile?
Or any of their supersticious vaine,
The which they did so deerely buy at last,
Not onely with a short and earthly paine,
But with eternall woe that ere shall last.
Oh Troy therefore I must lament thy fall,
And when I thinke vpon thee, ever shall
With pitie thee bewaile, that wert so brought
Vnto thine end, and sometime was so great
And populous, that no towne ever mought
Compare with thee, when thou wast proudly set
In honors throane, as those that thee then knew
Can witnesse beare, but now all men may rew,
And pittle thy decaied walles that stood
(About thy stately building,) loftily.
And Priamus thy Prince of Royall blood,
That made and builded thee so sumptuously.
I thinke no man that in the world liues now,
By pen or tongue can tell which way, or how
To frame or to devise a dolefull crie
Convenient to describe thy miserie.
No though it were the Prophet Ieremie,
That mourned for the great Captivitie
Of that most famous towne Ierusalem,
And of the woefull Iewes, bewailing them
With bitter teares. Nor yet Ezekiell
That to King Zedechias earnestly,
Fore-shewed the Captivity that fell
In Babilon, and for his Prophesie
Was ston'd to death, nor he that cruelly
Was saw'd in twaine, though all of them did crie,
And bitterly lament the Iewes orethrow.
Nor Daniell that within his heart did grieue
With extream paine, (when God his power to show)
Vnto King Nabuchadneser did giue
The shape of beast his hautie pride t'imbase,
And seuen yeares did make him feede on grasse.
For I suppose if all of them had beene
Heere living in that dolefull time againe,
And with their sore and warry eies had seene
The great distresse which Troy did long endure,
And all the bloody slaughters had beheld
Betweene the Greeks and Troians in the field,
There fought on either side in cruell wise,
I verily perswaded am that all
Their bitter teares would by no meanes suffice,
To grieue for those great sorrowes that did fall
Vpon the towne of Troy by Grecians brought,
And also by false treason gainst them wrought.
But this shall now suffice thereof to speake,
For like as he that against the wind doth saile,
And seeth his masts and yard [...] begin to breake,
Knowes well to [...] availe:
So were't in vaine for me to tell you all
The miseries that did to [...] befall,
Or to prefume to shew how eursed Fate,
Was bent in fierce and cruell wi [...]e to make
An end of them, and of their happy state,
The which on me I dare not vndertake▪
And therefore of the siedge ile make an end
In rude and simple wise, as it is pend.
And so the fourth Booke finish with the leaue
And fauor of your Princely Maiestie,
The which if that your grace to me will giue,
The fifth Booke ile begin, and specifie
Therein what dangers and aduentures fell
Vnto the Greeks vpon the sea, and tell
How they therein were [...]rownd and cast away,
And th [...]e that did escape and got to land:
(To shew that man hath here no certaine stay,
And cannot fatall De [...]iny withstand,)
Vnfortunately died, and so together
Such measure had, as they did meet to other.
FINIS.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF HECTOR.
THE FIFT BOOKE.

CHAP. 1.

¶ Wherein is shewed how the Greeks in their returne to Greece, after the destruction of Troy, by tempests on the seas were most of them drowned; and how the rest that escaped and got to land, dyed miserablie by malice and treason wrought in Greece, one against the other.

WHen Eolus (whome Poets faine to bee
The ruler of the winds) appeased was,
And he and Iun [...] did together gree,
To make the seas so calme that men might pass [...]
Securely through the same, and skie t'appeare
With faire & christall hew: The Greeks that were
Desirous to returne to Greece with speed,
To see their natiue Land (when they had woone
And vtterlie destroied Troy) decreed
To ship themselues, and forthwith to be gone
Frō thence where they had ten yeres space main­taind
A painefull siege, and little thereby gaind,
Considering all the losses they had had.
Yet triumphing for victorie obtaind,
Reioyst that they so good an end had made.
But fortune that their pride and ioy disdaind,
Soone chang'd their mirth into adversity.
For when they thought themselues secur'd to be,
And that they should in peace and quiet rest,
She stirred vp foule discord and disdaine,
Their happie state to trouble and molest,
And did in stead of ioy procure them paine:
And made their hearts with pride and rank or swell,
Whereby at strife among themselues they fell,
(In middest of their high and greatest glory,
When as they most reioyst and triumphed,
That they by force had woone the victorie
Against their Troyan foes, and flourished
In honor, and by trumpe of flying fame,
Eterniz'd had the glory of their name,
From East to West, and mak'st it swiftly flie
Throughout the world, to shew their worthines
As farre as Phoebus compasseth the skie.
For suddenly by great vnhappines,
Their glory that did shine so cleare & bright,
Ecclipsed was, (vnto their great despight.)
And all their welfare and prosperity,
Subuerted cleane by enuy and debate,
(Which Sathan through his craft and subtilty,
Made sodenly to creepe into their state.)
For Thelaphus with rancor and discord,
Before the Grecian Princes went abord,
Complaind against Ulisses in this wise,
And sayd, my Lords, if that it please you stay
To heare me speake, (and thinke as you are wise
That reason moueth me thereto;) I say
That at the winning of the towne of Troy,
The treasure that thereby we do enioy,
And forcibly did get into our hand,
Together with the riches which by might
And valor great we wan within the land,
Me thinks is not (if it be iudged right)
Distributed by iust devision,
Nor with indifferent proportion,
According to the law of equitie,
Which in such case, to those that merit best,
And are of high degree and dignitie▪
Affordeth better part then to the rest,
And giues to euery one as he deserud,
The which mong vs hath not been well obserud,
In euery part without exception,
For Pallas Image cald Palladion,
Whereof Ulisses hath possession,
I say that right vnto it he hath none.
Although he hath a false apparance found
To iustifie his title, and doth ground
The same hereon, that tis his owne by right
Because he woon't, as he doth brag and vaunt,
(Though subtilly, and not by force and might.)
And saith twas giuen to him by speciall graunt
Of euery one, and yet it is not true,
For I deni't, and flatly say to you
That he doth not deserue the same, nor shall
Enioy it long, for that as iust reward
For my desarts, it to my [...] doth fall,
If that indifferently I may be [...]eard,
And that you with reason iudge, and be
Vnpartiall in this case twixt him and me.
And first consider well, and way withall,
That while you here so long in siedge did tarry,
I onely out of Messa brought you all
Prouision that for you was necessary,
That you no want of victuals might sustaine,
By any meanes while you did here remaine.
And further as concerning feats of armes
Performed in the field in Knightly wise,
I euer ready was at all alarmes,
And daylie fought against our enemies:
And as I am assurd full well, kild more
Of them, then those that greater countnance bore.
You also know that I slew Philomen,
To whom King Priam sent his youngest Son
To keepe with store of treasure great, and when
I had him slaine and all that riches won,
I brought it vnto you, and therewith did
Relieue you much, and did supplie your need.
And sor your sakes I slew the Frizian King,
And store of gold and treasure from him won,
And all those spoiles vnto the Campe did bring.
You likewise further know what I haue don
T'augment and to aduance your soueraignty,
By conquering two kingdomes valianly
While you in siedge here lay, and did them ad
Vnto your puissant Empire, and likewise
The prouinces to Troy annexed, made
All Subiect vnto you. What otherwise
I with Achilles did t'increase your fame,
I know that you cannot forget the same.
And therefore needles twere for me to say
Or shew you all I could produce to proue,
My merits more then his, do euery way
Deserue a greater recompence and loue
Of you. And therefore whatsoere he saith;
No right vnto Palladion he hath.
The iudgement in this case I do referre
Vnto you all, the which that you may know
The better how to giue, you first shall heare
His qualities, which I will to you show.
In him there is no manner worthines,
Knight-hood, valor, nor yet hardines.
For when time serues that he should in a need
Shew forth his might, he dates not enterprize
That which he boasts, but proues as he's indeed
A coward right, as plainely with your ci [...]s
You see ther's i [...] him nought but cra [...]tines,
Words many, falsehood, & dec [...]fulnes.
For he is still in heart imagining,
How to effect by craft and subtilty
His purpose, and the same to passe to bring,
T'intrap and to deceaue his enemy:
For never any thing as yet there was
By him archieu'd, nor fully brought to passe,
For which he well deserued praise or laud,
But it was done (it's knowne vnto you all)
By some devise of treachery or fraud.
For like vnto a goodly painted wall,
He makes a faire and pleasing outward show,
But no man can his inward meaning know.
And by such sleights, deceit, and pollicy,
He got the Image cald Palladion,
And thereby (to our shame and villany)
It may be said the conquest we haue woone
Vpon the towne, by treason gotten was,
And not by our great knighthood brought to passe.
The onely cause whereof (as I haue said)
Ulisses is, for he (vnto our shame)
This stumbling blocke hath in our honor laid,
And thereby much ecclipsed all our fame:
The truth thereof sith all of you do know,
Ile leaue for this time, more of him to show.
And of you all my Lords together craue
You iudgements, which of vs deserveth best
For his deserts, the jmage faire to haue,
That for the same we may no more contest:
Which words thus vsed by King Thelaphus,
Ulisses having heard with mind suspicious,
And seeing how with envie great he was
Incenst and mou'd gainst him, with good advise
He bare with him a while, and let ore-passe
His choller, and, as he was passing wise,
Determing no iest thereof to make
To answere him, on this wise to him spake,
And said with countance bold before his face,
My Lords, if that I may haue leaue to speake,
I hope before we part out of this place,
(And yet intend no peace thereby to breake)
To proue directly that with equitie,
The jmage onely doth belong to me,
Which I will keepe and hold while I do liue,
Despight of all that thereto dare say nay.
And first, for proofe this instance I do giue,
That at the siege wherein so long we lay,
In double wise I did my selfe acquit,
As well by valor great, as by my wit.
For by advise I was the onely man
T'intrap them in a snare, and for your good,
Devis'd the meanes and way whereby we wan
The towne of Troy, which otherwise had stood
And flourisht to this day, and truth to tell,
As it is not vnknowne to all full well,
If you will speake vprightly and with reason,
I dare avouch (though Thelaphus saith no)
I was chiefe cause of their confusion.
How often of Embassage did I go,
To make the treatie with them in such wise,
As I for our advantage could devise?
And when I saw that all that we had done,
Was but in vaine the towne of Troy to win,
And that for vs advantage there was none,
While that the holy Image was therein:
By my advise so subtillie I wrought,
That I to you Mineruaes Image brought.
Which Thelaphus maliciously doth say,
That to your great dishonour and your shame,
By treacherie I brought it thence away,
And thereby much imblemished your fame:
But sith you are so wise I pray you take
The quarrell now in hand, and thereof make
An end betweene vs twaine, and so prouide,
That th'jmage at this time may iudged be
(All fauour whatsoever laid aside)
To him that it deserues; and as for me
Ile stand to your award. Which having said,
He paused, and from speaking further staid.
Whereat with courage great King Thelaphus,
In heart and mind exceeding lie much mou'd,
(Respecting no man there in furious
And raging wise) despightfullie reprou'd,
And chafed at Vlisses with disdaine,
And he at him replide with like againe.
Whereby they two great enemies became,
And into hard and bitter tearmes did fall,
And threatning each the other for the same:
King Thelaphus in presence of them all,
Said, that before they two did end that strife,
It should vnto Vlisses cost his life
By his hands, if he did not well defend
Himselfe. Which when the Grecian Princes heard,
The quarrell grown between them two, to end
The matter was by all of them deferd,
And wholly put to th'arbitration
Of Menalus, and King Agamemnon,
Which afterward did breed a mortall iarre.
For when they two considered had thereon,
They iudged, cause Ulisses (t'whom they bare
Affection great) the jmage faire had woon,
He should possesse the same as his reward,
And Thelaphus from claime thereof debard.
The reason that made them therein preferre,
Ulisses (and King Thelaphus to thwart)
Was, for because they both beholding were
To him, for that he friendly tooke their part,
When as the Greeks bout Helen were at strife,
To haue her kild; and he to saue her life,
Perswaded them so well, that they content
To let her liue, to Menalus her gaue.
When Thelaphus with furie gainst her bent,
Before them all said flatly she should haue
Her head cut off, and suffer deadly paine,
Because for her so many had beene slaine.
And by that meanes King Thelaphus was crost,
And put besides Palladion gainst his will,
For which he swore (thogh deare it shold him cost)
Ere long time past he would Vlisses kill:
And one day likewise be reveng'd vpon
King Menalus, and king Agamemnon.
And therewith in a mighty rage he went
With all his knights, (and left the company)
Who with him in their hearts were fully bent,
When they a fit occasion might espie,
In cruell wise ere long reveng'd to be
Vpon their foes, but chiefly on those three.
And for that cause such hatred to them bare,
That nothing but their deaths could th [...] content:
But they that of his purpose were aware,
With policie his furie to prevent,
Did cause their knights about them to attend,
If that occasion serued, to defend
And keepe them from the furie of their foes.
And likewise soone to rid them of that doubt,
For earely in the morne ere Phoebus rose
(The matter was so quicklie brought about)
King Thelaphus that braue and worthy knight,
Most cruelly was murthered in the night.
And in the morning bleeding sore was found
Within his bed, whereas his body lay
Sore mangled, hewd, & cut, with many a wound:
Which thing when as the Grecians heard next day,
They did abhorre that act so horrible,
And cause to God and man twas odible.
They could not choose but for his murther weepe,
And grieue to thinke how foule and traiterously
He had been kild, when he was fast asleepe,
And mong them then there rose so great a cry,
Throughout the hoast for that most wicked deed,
That all his friends within their hearts decreed,
His death should be revenged vpon those
That had that cruell murther brought to passe:
The which, although no man would it disclose,
Yet every one that in the hoast then was,
For it had most and great'st suspicion
On Menalus, and King Agamemnon,
But chiefly on Vlisses, vnto whome
By common voice of them in generall
His sodaine death imputed was, and some
Did vow and sweare what euer did befall,
(Mong whom yong Pyrrhus specially was one)
They would revenge the death of him full soon
Vpon Vlisses, who by treachery
Had falsly wrought the same; but to preuent
And scape from Pyrrhus furie, sodainly
Aboard his ships next morning straight he went:
And hoising saile in hast from thence he fled,
And left the jmage with King Diomed.
And of the fact in heart had great remorse.
Who in that sort thus fled away and gone,
Yong Pyrrhus tooke his bloudy mangled corse,
And made a fire and laid the same thereon,
In presence of the Greeks that it beheld,
And burnt it vnto ashes in the field.
And afterward the ashes being cold,
He tooke them vp, and did them safely put
With reverence great, into a box of gold,
The which with his owne seale of armes he shut:
And sent them to be buried there whereas,
While he did liue, the soveraigne Prince he was.
And hauing all the ceremonies vs'd
For him in every point most orderly,
He still vpon the cruell murther musd,
Which vnto him was done so traitrously:
And sware and vowd it should be dearly bought,
By them that it so wickedly had wrought.
And for that cause great hatred bare vnto
King Menalus, and King Agamemnon,
Who well advis'd, and taking heed thereto,
For feare thereof nere went abroad alone▪
But strongly garded daily did attend,
What issue would ensue thereof in th'end.
Which Pyrrhus likewise did, and would not cease
By all the meanes he could to seeke some way
T'intrap them, and his wrath would not appease.
And in that sort they three from that same day
Were sterne and deadly foes each vnto other:
And while that they in such wise iar'd together,
And enviously each other did pursue,
Still more and more their malice did encrease,
And hatred great on each side did renue.
Till Anthenor their furies to appease,
By policie did cut of all disdaine
On either side, and made them friends againe.
And to that end prepard a royall feast,
And did invite the Grecians to the same,
And to intreat and pray them never ceast,
Till they three with the rest vnto it came,
That all the Princes of the hoast might see
They had their anger left, and did agree
Together like good friends as ere they were.
To write the great and sumptuous fare they had,
With all the severall dishes that were there;
As also what rich Presents then were made,
And by Anthenor given liberallie
Vnto the Greeks, it's no necessitie.
Let it suffice they wanted nothing that
Might please and giue contentinent vnto man.
And while at table they together sat,
Some one among them enviously began
To speake against Aeneas, and t'accuse
And charge him with most great and vile abuse,
Especially because he did conceale,
And hide away the Princes Pollicene,
And would by no meanes tell them, no [...] reveale
What was become of her that cause had been
Of fierce Achilles death: and for the same
They did impose vpon him so much blame,
That they did all with one consent agree,
He should therefore be banisht out of Troy,
Contrary to their former grant that hee
The freedome of the Towne should still enioy:
But nere the lesse they did with one consent,
Comdemne him to perpetuall banishment.
(The causer of the same I cannot tell,
But sure it is Anthenor, and none other
Within the Towne of Troy did know it well,
And secretly betraid his traiterous brother:
That with him holpe to bring that thing to passe,
Which in the end the Townes destruction was.)
Which when Aeneas knew, and saw no way,
For him by any meanes to mollifie
The Grecians hearts, to giue him leaue to stay,
He humblie praied them of courtesie,
That of their princely favor and their grace,
They wold vouch [...]afe to grant him 4 months space
To stay in Troy, while he provided had
All things that should for him be necessaire;
And further vnto them petition made,
That he from thence might also with him carrie
The ships that into Cithera did go
With Paris, iust number twentie two.
Which being by the Grecians full consent
Vnto him given, with licence for the space
Of time he askt to stay, to Troy he went
With heavie heart, to see't in such a case:
And specially when he to mind did call,
That all the woes which on the same did fall,
Came onlie by the treason he had wrought
Against the Towne; and also to remember,
That he could not enioy the thing he sought,
But must of force depart and stay no longer,
Where he had liu'd sometime in great estate.
And cursed his most hard and cruell fate,
To see him selfe so plung'd in that distresse,
And banisht by the Greeks, and knew not why
Nor who had sought his fall, till he did gesse
And saw by signes Anthenor subtilly
To get him out of Troy procured it,
For which he sware & vowd he would him quit.
And to that end sent presently for all
The Troyans that then in the towne were left,
Who willingly assembled at his call,
(For being of their soveraigne Prince bereft,
They made account he onlie did remaine
Aliue, to be their Lord and Soveraigne.)
To whome he spake & said, my friends you see,
How fortune at this time begins to frowne,
And with dissembling face to ieare at mee,
As she hath done at this most worthy towne,
Her cruelty gainst it and me to shew:
You know likewise that we are but a few,
Here resting in this ruin'd place t'abide,
And I perforce must leaue your company.
Wherefore I thinke it best that you provide
Some meanes for your owne good and safety,
By looking out among you for a man,
To governe you with all the speed you can.
For otherwise I see not how you should
Be able long this open Towne to keepe,
Nor yet your selues from strange invasion [...] hold:
That here now like vnto a flocke of sheepe,
Disperst without a sheepheard do remaine,
And no man left your quarrell to maintaine.
Wherefore if you my counsell now will take,
I thinke, sithtis so dangerous a thing
For you to liue without an head, to make
And choose some one among you for your king.
And he whome I thinke fittest man to raigne
Ore you, and be your Lord and soueraigne
Is Anthenor, whose knighthood and renowne
Is knowne vnto you all, if you consent
And will agree to my opinion.
And to that end let one for him be sent,
And when that he comes here within the towne,
You shall set on his head a regall Crowne.
That he may governe you with equity,
And valiantly defend, preserue, and saue
You from distresse and all extreamity.
And they agreed, and were content to haue
Him sent for presently to be their king.
For they not once suspected any thing
Concerning that the which Aeneas ment,
Whose words and mind contrary were to other,
For it was his full purpose and intent
To slay him presently when he came thither,
And with his friends prepared to that end
All armed stood, his comming to attend.
Who nought suspecting that which did fall out,
Vnarmed came into the towne, where he
Was presently enclosed round about
By Aeneas, and in danger slaine to be:
If that the common people had not been,
Who in great hast came running thē between.
And downe vpon their knees before him fell,
Desiring him to haue compassion
On them and theirs, whom he then knew full well,
Were left within a bare and naked towne
Without a guide, and praid him to withhold
His hand and furie great, from that which wold
Be cause of their destruction generall,
And on them and their woefull case to rue.
To whome Aeneas said before them all,
Will you that I forbeare him that's vntrue,
And shews himselfe so traiterously bent
To you and me, with false and bad intent,
That for it he deserued hath to die.
For was't not he that specially alone.
Conspir'd by treason with your enemie▪
To bring you all vnto destruction,
And me vnto the Greeks hath sold and bought,
And vndeseru'd my banishment hath wrought▪
The which they haue decreed without repeale,
But ere I go from hence Ile make him sure,
The iust reward of his deserts to feele,
And without all compassion to endure
The paine that to a traitor doth belong,
That at this time hath done me so much wrong▪
To be exild from hence, where with you all
I purposed to lead my life, and take
Such part as should vnto our shares befall,
But by his meanes I must the Towne forsake:
Which wrong I cannot brooke nor never may,
And therefore for the same I will him slay▪
Besides all this, he was as you haueseene,
The onely man that to the Grecians gaue,
The yong and goodly Princesse [...]llice [...]e;
Whom they did slay, & would you I should saue
One that so traitrous is? Thus much I say,
(Whos'ever that against the [...]ame saith nay.)
Sith you intreat for him he shall go free
With life, but cause his treason is so great,
He shall out of this Towne exiled bee,
And therewith they a time vnto him set,
When he shold go from thence, without all grace
Or favour shewd, and that he must not passe.
And thus as traitors both they wrought together,
To bring the Towne to ruine and decay,
So treacherously they did exile each other
Out of the same, and might not therein stay
To lead their liues where they were borne & bred,
In peace and rest as they determined.
And presently Anthenor therevpon,
Without delay did preparation make,
Of all things necessarie to be gone
From thence, & with his friends did shipping take,
And saild by divers Lands and sundry Isle [...].
It's needlesse to rehearse how many miles
He travel'd on the seas, nor how he scapt
The dangers that therein are often seen.
But to be briefe his course so well he shapt,
That at the last when he a while had been
Tost too and fro, with stormy wind & weather▪
He spied an Isle, & with his ships made thither.
Which Island had to name G [...]r [...]diay,
Where he no sooner foot on land did get,
But there vpon a [...]ke without delay,
His men with present speed to worke he set,
And made a towne that was both broad & long,
With towred wals which were exceeding strong.
And many plesant woods and waters sweet,
That on each side the same environed,
With all things else that for the same was meet.
Which Isle as then was ruld and governed
By Thetides a king of worthy same,
Who long and many yeres had held the same
In peace, and never had molested been
By any adverse fortune whatsoe [...]e:
Who vnto Lord Anthenor and his men
Great courtesie did shew, and by him were
In friendly wise receau'd and welcomed,
And peaceably by him were suffered
To plant themselues therein, and to enioy
Their towne as freely with all priviledge,
As they before liu'd in the towne of Troy:
Whose being there once knowen and published,
A number of the Troyan knights went thither,
And there encreast and multipli'd together.
And soone did make it rich and populous,
And called it the Towne of Menelau.
To tell you more of him were frivolous,
For memory of him there should be none:
Sith he was by his treason cause of all
The miseries that did on Troy befall.
And therefore I will turne my stile againe,
To tell you what vnto the Greeks befell,
And how by Prophesie Cassandra plaine,
And truely did vnto the Grecians tell,
What happen to them should, & mong them all
Declared to their puissant Generall,
That he within his house should murthered bee
By treason, that against him should be wrought,
And that there was no way for him to flie,
Nor scape the same what meanes so ere he sought:
And bad him haue a care of his estate,
For he should die by death vnfortunate.
The storie saith, when Thelaphus was slaine,
(As in another place I said before)
He had two sons (that liuing did remaine)
The which two seuerall wiues vnto him bore:
Who with a King cald Tenter did remaine,
And nourisht were till that they did attaine
To mens estate, and in the end he came
Two braue and worthy knights as euer were,
And in their time attaind to hauty fame,
As by their liues and acts it doth appeare:
The elder of them cald Authe [...]ic [...]s,
The yonger had to name A [...]issar [...]s.
And then doth shew that when the Greeks had done
All that they would to Troy, and [...]eadi [...] lay
Attending wind and tide at T [...]d [...],
To saile to Greece, Agamemnon did pray
And earnestlie entreated them t'agree,
And giue consent that Menalus and he
Might take their leaues and stay no longer there.
Whereto at first they would not giue consent,
But flatly them denyd and gainst it were,
But after much entreaty were content
They should depart: and so they two together
Set saile, when it was faire and pleasing weather,
In Autumne when the aire was drie and cold,
And melaucholie humors did abound,
When Phoebus had clea [...]e passed Le [...] bold,
And in sixteenth degree of Virgo found:
And trees that in the Summer time were greene,
Waxt drie, & corne and fruits were gathered in.
And flowers & herbs (which in the month of May,
With fresh and liuely hew shewd gallantly,)
Began to hang their heads and to decay.
And all the fields that flourisht verdantly,
Were dri'd, and lookt with sad & heauy cheare.
At th'jssuing of the daies caniculeare.
And men by humors great which then abound,
Molested were with shivering feavers cold,
And when the wind with blustring blasts was found
To shake the trees so sore, they could not hold
Their leaues, but did constraine them off to fall
At time of yeare, when men on God do call,
And humbly him beseech to keepe and saue
Their vines from raine, & storms, & nipping frost,
That they in time the fruits of them may haue,
Which otherwise would vtterly be lost,
If too much moysture fall vpon the ground,
As commonly that time of yeare is found,
At vnawares to happen with some blasts
Of wind and blustring weather, which so sore
Doth moue theseas, & therewithall orecasts▪
The skies, & makes them lowring, which before
Shewd pleasantly, and seemed for a while
To put men in good hope with fained smile.
But yet there is no trust twill so abide.
As well the Greeks that put to sea did find,
And sailed forth of Tenadon with tide,
And wind as good as they could wish in mind:
And with the gold and treasure that they woon
In Troy, three daies their course directly [...]un
To Greece ward, by consent of Eolus,
Who with the winds did seeme as't were t'obay
To them, and promist voyage prosperous,
And did conduct t hem onward of their way,
With pleasing gale along the Grecian coast.
But when that they in fortune trusted most,
And thought themselues to be in her good grace,
Mistrusting nought, she sodenly did lower,
And vnawares with false dissembling face,
(To shew and to declare her mighty power,)
Turn'd all their hope into most deepe despaire,
And ouercast the weather that was faire,
And made th'Egean seas that calme did show,
To rise aloft with billowes huge and hie,
And Boreas with his boystrous blasts to blow,
And roare and whistle lowdly in the skie:
And day that was most cleare, to seeme as night,
It was so darke, so that they had no light,
But onely by the lightning that did fall
With flashes great, and made them sore agast,
And much more when the thunder therewithall,
With mighty claps did breake both Yard & mast:
And rent and tare their sailes, & made them flie
Ore bord into the sea that rose so hie,
And bare their ships vp with so mighty force,
As if that they on mountaine tops had been,
And then againe with cleane contrary course
Cast them as low, so that they oft were seen
As if that they directly headlong fell
Into the deepe infernall pit of hell.
And therewithall the lightning sodainly
Fell in their ships, and set them on a fire,
And two and twenty of them speedily
Consumd & burnt, the rest (with furious ire
The which Minerua to them bare) were cast
Vpon the shore, and there in pieces brast.
For she offended was with them so sore,
Because to her they did no reverence
When they from Troy departed, and the more,
Because of that most great and foule offence,
The which Cileus Aiax gainst her wrought
Within her Church, which he full dearly bought.
For when his ships were most part of them drownd,
She bare so great a spight and hate to him,
That he to saue himselfe from death was found
In danger great, within the seas to swim
Starke naked, and at last got to the land,
And there lay almost dead vpon the sand,
And that he had for his desert and share.
The which Minerua iustly to him sent,
Because that he no honor to her bare,
When he into her Temple boldly went:
And forcible with mighty violence,
Cassandra Priams Daughter drew from thence.
Whereby you see what danger doth ensue
To men, that dare prophane a holy place,
As Cileus Aiax did, but did it rue,
And plagued was therefore without all grace:
As God with grieuous punishment will strike
All those that do presume to do the like.
Which many of the Greeks most true did find,
By giving of the same occasion.
For he that with a proud and hawtie mind,
Will venture by too great presumption,
To striue against the God of peace and might,
Shall at the last vnto his foule despight
Repent the same much sooner then he weenth,
And oftentimes not punished alone,
For many a man that innocently meanth,
Is plagu'd for that which other men haue done:
For all the Greeks in generall together,
Returning home receau'd some hurt no other,
Both hie and low of state, all felt the smart
And punishment of rigor to them vs'd
Vpon their foes, with sterne and cruell heart,
Because that they their victory abus'd:
As by the sequele of the History,
It doth appeare most clearely to the eye.
Which saith, that in times past a King there raign'd
Among the Greeks, which Naulus had to name,
Who long in honor great his Land maintaind,
And through the world did spread his hawty fame:
Two Sons he had, Pallamides the elder,
And Oetes was the second, and the yonger.
Who both one mother had, and valiant were,
Especially Pallamides, for he
For knighthood was esteemd and held to beare
The name and fame both farre and neare, to be
The worthiest Prince then living in his daies,
For force and power of men at all assaies.
And for his wisedome sometime governed
The Grecians hoast, when they fore Troy did lie,
And was of them most highly honoured,
But at the last was slaine vnhappilie
In battaile: when as he most flourished
In honor, & his fame abroad was spred.
But some that bare great envie in their hearts,
Vnto the Grecians most maliciously
Against them treason wrought, & plaid their parts
So well therein, that Naulus hastilie
Fell at debate with them: for they devis'd
A tale the which they told him, and surmis'd
That which was never practised nor wrought
By any one of all the Greeks, not yet
In any wise imagined nor thought
By them, though he for truth belieued it:
For they told him that while the Grecians were
Before the towne of Troy, that falslie there
Pallamides his sonne was murthered
By night, as he within his bed did lie,
The which they said was done by Diomede,
And false Ulisses with great crueltie:
Which (truth to say) and giue to them their due,
They never did, for it was most vntrue.
They also did most confidentlie tell
The King, that all the Princes did consent
Vnto that deed, and knew thereof full well,
(Although there was nere any such intent)
And specially that King Agamemnon,
And Menalus were by when it was done.
But all (they said) was false and nothing so,
Yet nere the lesse they did the king perswade
So well, that he gaue credite therevnto,
And verilie belieu'd the Grecians had
Conspir'd the death, and the destruction
Of valiant King Pallamides his son.
And better to averre their false report,
They fain'd & said that letters twaine were sent
Out of the towne, which treason did import,
And said that King Pallamides was bent
To favor them of Troy, and that he had
Receau'd a sum of gold of them, and made
Condition more to haue, so that he would
Delay the time, and cause their enemie
To leaue the siege, and for them only hold:
And more to make their matter good did lie,
And said, they found the letters in the field,
Enclosed fast within a Troyans shield
That in the fight was flaine, and that thereby
The who [...]e contents of all the treason wrought,
And practis'd by the Troyans secretly▪
With King Pallamides, to light was brought:
And though that he was guiltles of the same,
(The Grecians more to slaunder and to blame,)
They said Ulisses falsly practised,
With one that on Pallamides did wayt,
And him with gold and words most faire so fed,
That at the last he caught him with a bait,
And got him to agree and be content
To grant to his request, and giue consent
To take a bag of gold, and secretly
By night convay the same into the bed
Whereas his Lord Pallamides did lie,
Which he accordingly accomplished:
And to make all seem true, the gold then laid
Within the bed, was so much as was said,
Pallamides receaued had in hand.
That when the matter once in question came,
He should not well gainst his accusers stand,
It being found and prou'd to be the same
Iust summe of gold, the which was specifi'd
In those two letters in the Targat hid,
Which being found, and to the Grecians told,
They were to vproare moued in such wise,
Concerning those two letters and the gold,
That they did in a muttering arise:
And all together ran with one consent,
In furious wise vnto the royall tent,
Wherein the king (that innocent and cleane
Of that suppos'd offence then was) remaind,
And little knew what they thereby did meane:
And would by no intreaty be restraind
To stay, but when before him there they stood
Like vnto men that had been mad or wood;
They did begin against lowd to crie,
And bitterly to raile and chafe withall,
And by no meanes their rage would pacifie,
But readie were on him therefore to fall:
And specially the kings Agamemnon,
And Menalus with indignation
Against him in their hearts conceaued, than
Without advise or any care at all
Of his estate or high degree, began
For iustice there be [...]ore the Greeks to call:
The which when king Pallamides perceau'd,
And saw what malice they gainst him conceau'd,
At first he was somewhat therewith abast,
But presently againe without all feare
He stood vp on his feet, and at the last
When as he saw how hot at him they were,
And that they still persisted that he shold
Condemned be: To show his courage bold
And valor great, he flatly did deny
That which by them on him was falsly layd,
And swore before them all it was a lie,
For proofe whereof he offer made and said:
That he his life would venture like a Knight,
With any whatsoere he were, to fight
In single combat hand to hand, to try
And proue by force that he no treason wrought,
(Respecting not his Soveraigne dignity
Nor royall bloud) and them therefore besought,
To grant and giue consent that presently
That day the combat might be fought, thereby
To find and know the truth, if any one
Against him durst within the field appeare.
Which proffer made they all stood mute, and none
Of all his foes that his accusers were,
The combate would accept: for Diomede
And King Ulisses authors of that deed,
Withdrew themselues, and never did make proffer
To take his gauntlet vp, which he had laid
Before them on the ground, nor yet would offer
To proue that which of him they falsly said
Behind his backe, but with a fained show,
Made as if they thereof did nothing know.
And for his part Ulisses craftily,
(As't was his common practise to dissemble
With all men, and to flatter, faine, and lie,
Wherein he did the serpent slie resemble,
That closely lyeth hidden in the grasse,
To sting and bite such as thereon do passe.)
When as he heard Pallamides deny
The treason to him laid, and offer made
To proue them false that would it iustifie,
He seemd as if therefore he had been glad:
And like a friend that meant nought else but well,
He did begin in double wise to deale.
And openly seemd him thereof t'excuse,
And gaue advise vnto the Greeks to cease,
From charging him with treason, and to vse
No more opprobrious speeches in that case,
And by that meanes appeaz'd their muteny:
And did perswade them that most certainly,
That accusation false and slanderous,
Vpon him was imposed wrongfully,
By some that had with hearts malicious,
Conspir'd to do him that great villany:
And to procure his everlasting shame,
Yet he himselfe was author of the same.
But when he saw he could not bring to passe,
That which he had devised to betray
And charge him with, that he a traitor was,
He subtilly found out another way:
Which by consent of Diomede he brought
Vnto effect, and in this wise he wrought.
He went vnto him late vpon a night,
And as a secret friend vnto him told,
(First swearing him by th'onor of a knight,
Not to disclose that which reveale he shold)
That he could bring him to a place whereas
Great store of gold and treasure hidden was.
That had to him been privately disclos'd,
And none else but himselfe thereof did know,
And that is lay within a well enclos'd:
Which as a friend he offred him to show,
So that he promise would that night to go,
Accompani'd with them two, and no mo,
To fetch it secretly into his tent.
Which he (belieuing all that they did say)
Agreed vnto, and forth with them he went
Vnto the well, whereas he said it lay:
And comming thither, told them that he wold
Go downe into the well to fetch the gold.
Supposing to haue found it there indeed.
But being downe into the bottome gone,
(As they before between them had agreed,
When aid and succor for him there was none,
For vp againe himselfe he could not rise:)
They stoned him to death in cruell wise,
And went their waies vnto their tents with speed,
Where down they laid themselues to take their ease,
As if that they had never done the deed.
And so they said that King Pallomides
Was murthered by Ulisses treachery,
And Diomede: and it was but a lie
Deuis'd to slander them that guiltlesse were,
And also all the Grecians else beside,
For he was with an arrow slaine in warre
By Paris, while they did in siege abide:
But they that are to falshood wholly bent,
Can tales devise that nere were done nor ment.
And as for those two letters that were brought
Out of the towne, as by them was surmis'd,
No such thing by Pallamides was wrought,
It only was maliciously devis'd:
And nothing else but falshood & vntroth,
Of purpose told to make king Naulus wroth,
And angry with the Greeks in generall,
Thereby to worke their ruine and decay,
And mou'd him for that cause on them to fall,
As they returned homeward on their way:
For presently king Naulus and his sonne,
Belieuing that such treason had beene done,
And wrought by Greeks, as was vnto them told,
Did sweare and vow reveng'd to be therefore
Vpon them by all waies and meanes they could:
And vnto them in heart such hatred bore,
That without any favor merciles,
When as the Greeks were on the surging seas,
And saild along the shore by Naulus land,
He caused fires to burne, and set vp lights
Vpon the coast, the which on hills did stand,
And might be seene farre off in winter nights,
To make the Greeks to erre and go aside
Out of the way: for when they had espi'd
The lights on shore, and did not vnderstand
The reason, but supposing harbor neere,
They did direct their course vnto the land,
And thinking them for sea-marks placed there,
To shew them how to fall on land by night,
Without all feare they made vnto the light.
Whereby vpon the rockes & sand they stroke,
And by that meanes two hundred ships they lost,
Which sodainly were all in pieces broke,
And cast away vpon king Naulus coast,
Which cost the life of many a worthy man.
And so to take revenge he first began
Vpon the Grecians, with destruction
Of them, and of their Navie huge and great,
But yet by fortune King Agamemnon
Escaped death, and safely home did get,
With Menalus, King Diomed, and more
That followed them: & yet there was great store
Of Earles, Kings, and Princes cast away
At that same time. But when as Oetes knew
That they were gone, and that he could not stay
Them as he would, he vowd some should it rew:
And presently imagined a wile,
Wherewith he did Agamemnon beguile,
By writing of a letter to his wife,
Which set so great contention tweene thē twaine,
That it did cost Agamemnon his life.
The letter did in it thus much containe,
That her deare Lord and king Agamemnon,
A great and mighty wrong to her had don.
The which could not but breed most extreame blame,
And detriment vnto her in the end,
(Although she nere had merited the same)
The which he said was that he did intend
A daughter of king Priamus to take
To wife, and would her vtterly forsake,
(Though she surpast her much for excellence
Of beauty, and of comely feature)
That never had vnto him done offence.
Whereof he did her certainly assure,
And that it was his purpose and intent,
That she should into banishment be sent,
A thousand miles frō thence when he came home,
Advising her that she should warily
Looke to her owne estate. This was the sum
And generall contents of that which he,
Within his letter sent vnto the Queene:
Although the king was innocent and cleane,
Of that which he to her did falsly write,
And loud her while he liu'd with all his heart,
And in none else but she did take delight,
Nor had no such intent from her to part:
But't may be that the letter which he sent,
Made her to do more then she ever ment,
And to giue credite thervnto too soone.
Who thanked Oetes for his carefulnesse
In her behalfe, and his compassion
Shewd therein to preserue her from distresse:
And yet (as in the story you shall find)
She was a most false Lady, and vnkind
To him while he was absent in the warre.
But nerethelesse she was so diligent
To looke vnto her selfe, and to prepare
A bait for him, and thereby to prevent
All mischiefe whatsoever might ensue
To her, by that which she thought to be true,
That finally she brought him to his end.
What trust can man repose in worldly glory,
(Though all men to obtaine't their wits do bend,)
Which proues to be so vaine and transitory:
Or in the wavering ioyes of prowd ambition,
Which sodainely are turned vpside downe.
Or flying fame that mounteth vp so hie,
And is orethrown in twinckling of an eie,
Or as vaine boasting of great victory,
That vanisheth away so sodainly,
Or in dissembling fortune most vniust,
In whom no man could ere so surely trust,
As that he might assure himselfe that she
Would vnto him a constant friend remaine,
Gainst whom no man whats'euer that he be,
Can once resist or victory obtaine:
For on her wheele though he clime nere so fast,
Let him be sure sheele throw him downe at last.
Her favor's not to be relide vpon,
For she's so full of mutability,
That he which doth repose his trust thereon,
Doth build vpon a meere vncertainty:
To day sheele be a friend and seeme to smile,
To morrow she will falsly men beguile.
Her pride is such she spareth no degree,
Great Emperors, Kings, Dukes, Princes, all are one
With her, for in their greatst felicity,
When they are plast in high and Princely throne,
And liue and raigne in honor and renowne,
For all their mighty power she casts thē downe.
As you may see by King Agamemnon,
Who while he liu'd so puissant was of state,
That mong the Greeks there was not any one
Esteemd nor found to be more fortunate,
Nor greater; yet for all his excellence,
He could not make resistance nor defence,
With all the power that on him did attend,
Against conspired murther, nor prevent
The treason wrought to bring him to his end,
Which his Queene Clytemnestra did invent
And purposely deuise. But he that knows
All things on earth, his iudgment often shows
On such as take delight in murthering
Of men, which God doth vtterly forbid,
And specially the murthering of a king.
Which is so foule and horrible a deed,
That all the paine that Exion fe [...]les in hell,
With other foule infernall spirits that dwell
With Belzebub, are not sufficient
To take revenge, nor punish such [...]one
As hath a heart so mischieuously bent,
For that excedeth in comparison
All other kinds of treason whatsoere,
And no man can vprightly with it beare.
But God will them assuredly confound,
And bring vnto an end vnfortunate;
For they are worse then Cerberns the hound,
Who though that he of malice doth vs hate,
He barks before he bites; but such as lie
In wait to kill a man, will sodainly
Assaile and set on him ere he's aware.
But bloud so shead vndoubtedly doth crie
To God for iust revenge on those that are
The actors, and will fall assuredly
On them, which though sometimes he doth prolong,
Yet he is iust, and punisheth all wrong
Done vnto every man, but specially
To mighty Kings; as this Agamemnon,
In his time was of such authority,
That comparable to him there was none
In all the Grecian campe, but fate so wrought,
That when vnto his house he came, & thought
To liue in peace, he should there end his life
By vnexpected murther, which was done
By policy and mischiefe of his wife:
For that when to the shore he came, assoone
As ever foot vpon the land he set,
In seemely wise Clytemnestra with him met.
Who outwardly with countenance bening,
And friendly show did welcome him, with much
Great courtesie and honour, whome the King
In loving wise embrast, and thought no such
False treason had vnto him then been ment,
And straight with her vnto his Pallace went.
Where she no whit respecting faithfull vow,
Nor promise made in wedlocke, set aside
All duety and respect she ought to show
Vnto the king, and shamelesly vntide
The knot of loue, and proued so vnkind,
That she did set her heart and all her mind
Vpon a knight that in her favor stood,
Whose name Egistus was, though truth to tell,
He neither came of noble birth nor blood,
Nor yet in armes nor knighthood did excell:
But cause he did his businesse well by night,
She tooke in him such pleasure and delight,
That he her loue from all men else had wone,
Which moued her her husbands blood to shed,
And for because she could not he alone,
She made him her copartner in her bed:
And by him at the last a Daughter had
Cald Exion, and promise to him made,
Vpon the paine of loosing of her head,
That should be her Lord and King, when as
Her husband King Agamemnon was dead.
The which accordingly to bring to passe,
Agamemnon next night by him was slaine,
Whereof the Queene exceeding glad & faine,
No longer time delayd, but presently
Did marry with Egistus, and did bring
His purpose so to passe by treachery,
That he was of Messena crowned King:
And gaue him thereof full possession,
And thereby disinherited her Son.
And lust with her abounded in such wise,
That reason bore no sway within her mind,
(For they are alwaies deadly enemies)
And wrong and falshood now more favor find,
Then equity, true dealing, righteousnes,
Honor, estate, desert, or worthinesse.
For by her beastly foule adultery,
(A sin which never raignes in man alone)
She practised with false conspiracie,
To murther her deare Lord, & wrong her Sonne:
And thereby heapt one sin vpon another,
Which down to hell with her did sinke together.
And to her did erelasting woe procure,
Which she full well deserued for her paine.
Who can himselfe here in this life assure,
When Kings in traiterous wise are falsly slaine▪
To make and stirre vp alteration
In kingdomes great, by wrong succession.
Which they that are the authors may pretend,
To do with colour of some equitie:
But God the Iudge of Iudges in the end,
Will right all false intrusions speedily,
On those that seeke by force and violence,
To wrong such as nere did to them offence.
For though thereby she thought her selfe secure,
As having all the Country at command,
And dreamt long in that happy state t'endure;
Yet she cold not the punishment withstand
Which God for her prepar'd, for when't was known,
That she her selfe s'vnnaturall had shown
Vnto her Lord and King Agamemnon,
As so to murther him, and afterward
So falsly disinherited her Sonne,
And had him from his lawfull right debard:
Her Son that was of yong and tender age,
(Horestus cald) to shun his mothers rage,
Was secretly convaid and sent away
Out of the Land by King Taltabius,
Into the Isle of Creet̄e, where he did stay
And nourisht was by King Idumeus,
And Carkasis his Queene, whose onely heire
A daughter was, of beauty passing faire,
(Climenea cald) and by them vs'd as well
As their owne child, where he continued
Till he waxt great, and did in armes excell,
And with him thence a puissant army led:
To conquere his inheritance by might,
Which false Egistus held without all right
And equity from him. But for a while
Ile let him stay where he was nourished
In tender yeares, for I must change my stile,
And tell you somewhat of king Diomed:
Who for his part likewise great woe endur'd,
The which to him was enviously procur'd,
And falsly brought to passe by Oetes traine,
Which he for him and many others more
Prepared had, of malice and disdaine,
Which he vnto the Grecian Princes bore:
To take revenge on them for murthering
Pallamides, the which to passe to bring,
(Though't were vntrue) yet he and Naulus both
Perswaded otherwise, would't not belieue,
But in their minds conceaued so much wrath
And hatred gainst the Greeks, that to bereaue
Them of their liues was all their care & thought:
Thus gainst the said king Diomed they wrought.
Within the great and spacious Grecian land,
There was a mighty kingdome long and large,
Which towards the Easterne parts therof did stand,
Composed of Calido [...]ie and Arge,
Both ioynd in one, abounding in great store
Of wealth, whereof he that the scepter bore
And raignd therein, Polentus had to name,
To whome his wife a son & daughter bare,
The sonne Assandrus called was; whose fame
Both far and neere was spred for knighthood rare.
His daughter faire the name of Egra bore.
Who cause he had two children and no more,
He did vpon his death bed so provide,
That when he should depart the, world,
All strife) they two his kingdome should divide to cease
Betweene them, and together liue in peace.
Whose daughter afterward he being dead,
Was married vnto king Diomed.
(Who while he did at Troy in siege remaine,
Lou'd Cressida that Calchas daughter was,
And for her sake endur'd much griefe and paine.
But I will let his loue to her orepasse,
As nothing to the matter pertinent)
Who not long after they were married, went
Vnto the siege of Troy, accompanied
With Assandrus her brother, who together
Vpon the seas out of the way were led,
And driven too and fro with stormie weather:
And cleane contrary wind they had, which bore
Them forcibly vpon Boetia shore.
Whereas they did (as glad a while to stay
And rest themselues) take land & there remaine,
Till Thelaphus the King thereof heard say
That they were there, and thereat much disdaind,
Because that they to land thereon would venter,
Before that he did giue them leaue to enter.
Though they (as he suppos'd) did not pretend
To do him wrong thereby while they did stay,
Nor yet by any way or meanes t'offend
His subiects, but for all they tooke did pay:
But Thelaphus well arm'd with many a knight,
Went downe vnto the shore with them to fight.
And with exceeding furie on them set,
Where Assandrus so brauely did assaile
His enemies, that those that with him met,
Could not against his valor great prevaile:
So that by knightly force the field he wan
Vpon his foes, and killed many a man
That him withstood, which when the King espi'd,
And saw how he so brauely plaid his part,
Disdaining sore thereat (to daunt his pride)
With all his force he stroke him with a dart,
So farre into the breast that he fell dead
Vpon the ground: the which when Diomed
Perceaued, to revenge him like a knight
Of valor great, that time such slaughter made
Vpon his foes, that by his puissant might,
He made them run out of the field as glad
To saue their liues: which done, he gan to make
Great sorrow for his loving brothers sake.
And studying what were best for him to do;
At last his corps from savage beasts to saue,
Before that he one foot from thence did go,
He put the same into a Princely graue,
And buried it with many weeping eyes,
Vpon Boctia shore in Paynim wise.
But Oetes to his sister wrote and said,
That he was slaine by craft of Diomede,
Who to that end in wayt for him had laid
A band of men, that he once being dead,
The kingdome wholly might without all strife,
Descend by right to him and to his wife.
And that he would possession thereof take,
Assoone as he againe returned home.
And further said, that he would her forsake,
And that with him there did a Lady come,
Whome he did loue and meant to make his wife.
And by that meanes did set such mortall strife
Betweene them, (as he in like sort had done
Not long before, and in the selfe same kind,
Twixt Clytemnestra and Agamemnon,)
That he possest her sad and heauie mind
With such conceit of treason: that much grieu'd
To heare thereof, she verily belieu'd
All to be true that vnto her was told.
So that with heart to wrath and furie bent,
And face that looked deadly, wan, and cold,
She did for her deare brothers death lament:
Whome she did with so great affection loue,
That from revenging him (no man could moue
Her heart that was as hard as any stone)
Vpon her husband Diomede. For when
The tedious weary siege of Troy was done,
And he returned home to her agen,
She did him on the shore by force withstand,
And beat him backe not suffring him to land.
But banished him presently from thence,
And would not once with him be reconcil'd:
Who seeing that he could not make defence
Against her power, to see himselfe exil'd
So wrongfully, much grieued at the heart,
Cleane comfortlesse he did from thence depart.
And went vnto Salerne land, whereas
A puissant King cald Tentar then did raigne,
That Brother vnto Thelamon Aiax was,
Who at the siege of Troy was falsly slaine:
But Diomede cleane destitute of ayd,
Vnhappy man not long time therein stayd;
For when King T [...]r knew that he was there,
Suspecting him for death of The [...]mon,
He did pursue him, so that wheresoere
He staid, he saw that succor there was none
For him to haue: so that vpon a night,
In secret wise he tooke himselfe to flight,
And left Salerne land, in hope to find
More comfort and reliefe in other place,
To ease and to redresse his troubled mind,
If fortune would vouchsafe him so much grace:
Meane time with heauie heart & thought confus'd,
Like one forsaken wholly, and refus'd
Of euery man, he wandred to and fro
From place to place, and could no rest procure
Vnto himselfe, not knowing where to go,
And all that while great mis'rie did endure.
Till at the last Aeneas that still staid
In Troy, the scattred Troyans there to aid,
Which after the destruction there were left,
And every day and hower were in doubt
To be destroyd, and of their liues bereft,
By enemies that dwelt there round about:
And had no man to gouerne them, nor stand
In their defence, or that would take in hand
To be their guide against their enemies.
Till that Aeneas t'aid them in their need,
Vnto them gaue his counsell and advise,
To send a messenger for Diomed,
(Of whome he did the fortune vnderstand,
To be expulst and banisht from his land,)
To pray him to come vnto them with speed,
With all the force and power he could make,
To saue and to defend them in their need,
From those that them opprest, and t'vndertake
To be the guide of them, that ready were
To be destroyd for want of government.
Which Diomed did grant vnto, and came
In hast to Troy, and thither with him brought
A gallant troope of men, and with the same
Relieued them, and brauely for them fought:
With whome vpon the way Aeneas met,
And to the towne with honor great him fet.
And entertaining him as his degree
Requird, a banquet for him did prepare,
Of every thing that might desired bee,
Where each of them to th'other did declare
The miseries and troubles first and last,
By sea and land which they had overpast,
Which no man can by any meanes eschew.
But as dame Fortune for him hath decreed,
He must take that she sends him as his dew.
But now vnto the matter to proceed,
The Troyans that were almost driven out
Of Troy, by those that dwelt there round about,
That daily did invade and spoyle their land,
By Diomed relieued were, and set
At liberty againe, who did withstand
Their foes so puissantly, that he did get
The victory of them foure times at least,
And them so sore pursued and opprest,
That finally they tooke and slew them all.
And such as were found traitors, and had done
That mischiefe which vpon them then did fall,
Condemned were and hanged euery one,
Whereby no man durst do them any wrong:
And by that meanes king Diomed waxt strong,
And did in time by his protection,
And government which he did take in hand,
As being Lord and Ruler of the towne,
So valiantly their enemies withstand:
And such a sway there for a time did beare,
That of him all the Country stood in feare.
And by that meanes in fine it so fell out,
His fame did spread abroad both farre & large,
And his great valor was so blowen about,
That it was knowne in Calidon and Arge:
Which when the Queene his wife did vnderstand,
She feard he would invade her in her land,
And it by force at last from her would take.
And to her selfe much mus'd how Diomed,
Such succor and such grace had found, to make
Himselfe so great, that he so farre should spred
His fame: for which, as politike and wise
She did forecast, and with her selfe devise,
By counsell of her Lords in generall,
To reconcile her selfe, and to that end
(Determining him home againe to call)
A messenger with speed to him did send,
And to him by her letters signified,
That whereas she had wrongtully deny'd
Him enterance into his Land, when he
Returned from the siege of Troy, she said,
That she with all her whole Nobilitie,
Submissiuely for pardon crau'd, and praid
Him to come home againe into his land.
Which news when he from her did vnderstand,
Remitting all offences whatsoere
Vnto him done, he was content to do
As she desir'd, and with her fault to beare,
(As being more of mercy mou'd thereto
Then iustice, which doth wrongs with force re­quite,)
And as he was a wise and courteous knight.
When he did by her letters vnderstand
Her meaning and intent, he thought it best
To stint all strife, & therefore out of hand
Did willingly graunt vnto their request,
And speedily returned home agene,
And reconcild was vnto his Queene,
And for his part all wrongs forgotten were,
And pardoned to his Nobility,
And after that he liued long time there
In high estate and great felicity,
And with his Queene a happy life did lead.
But cause no more of him I further read,
I will leaue off to speake of him as now.
And vnto Duke Aeneas turne my stile,
And of him briefely tell vnto you how,
When he in Troy remained had a while
To aid them with Diomed, & spent
Some time therein, with many men he went
Aboord his Troian ships well furnished
Of all things that for him were necessary,
And hoysing sayles put vnto sea with speed,
And prosperous wind, till it began to varry:
And made the seas to storme, & waues to rise,
And mount aloft almost vnto the skies.
And hauing many dangers ouerpast,
And sayled many miles along the coast,
He did ariue at Carthage at the last,
When he his wife by Fortune strange had lost.
But to declare all that to him befell,
And seuerally vnto you here to tell:
How that Queene Dido loued him, and gaue
Him treasure, gold, & costly jewels store,
With all things els that he desir'd to haue,
And how for all the loue she to him bore,
He shewd himselfe to her so much vnkind▪
(That as you shall at large in Virgill find,)
He secretly from her did steale away,
And got into his ships ere she it knew,
By night, when she in bed fast sleeping lay,
(For which in desperate wise her selfe she slew.)
And sayled into Italy, whereas
He did through many hard adventures pas
And diuers battailes fought, and at the last
Did conquer it; and therein raigned King
With all his long and tedious trauailes past,)
It needles were for me sith every thing
Declared is by Virgill long before
I wrote this Booke▪ which of him speaks no more
But sheweth how Horestus to requight
His Fathers death on them that had him kild,
Did find the meanes as equitie and right
Requires, that blood by murther falsely spild,
Should by the King of kings most iust decree,
Without all doubt at last revenged bee.
For blood by murther shead or violence,
Doth neuer cease for vengance loud to call,
On him that hath committed such offence,
Which on him at the last will surely fall
And giue him that reward he hath deserud,
(For none can scape the doome that is reseru'd
For murthers) by God that sits on hie,
And doth behold downe from his heavenly throne
All actions good or bad with equall eie.
Who though a while he letteth them alone,
And makes a shew to winck at faults forepast,
When he sees cause hele punish them at last,
At such time as they little thinke thereon,
The which he doth full often for our good,
As for the murther of Agamemnon,
He made one that was next to him of blood,
(Horestus his owne Son) his substitute,
His iudgement in that case to execute.
And vnto him procured meanes & might,
By aid of freinds to bring the same to pas,
Who when he had been made & dubbed knight,
By Idumeus King of Creet, when as
He had attaind to twenty foure yeares old,
And was of body strong and courage bold:
And therewithall both wise and provident,
And calling vnto mind the iniurie
He had sustaind, was resolutely bent
(If Fortune vnto him did not deny
Her ayd,) to proue if that he could obtaine
His kingdome and his heritance againe.
The which by force Egistus from him held,
And wrongfully possest by false pretence
Of wedlocke, & thereby had him compeld
For safegard of his life to flie from thence,
For which he did protest while he had breath
To be revengd, and also for the death
And murther fowle of King Agamemnon
His father, on all those that had conspird
And traitrously procurd it to be don,
And to that end most earnestly desird
Idumeus King of Creet to stand his friend,
Some ayd & some reliefe to him to lend.
To helpe him to assaile his enemie,
By whom he did such iniurie sustaine,
Which his request the King would not denie,
But willing his iust quarrell to maintaine,
Ordained that a thousand Knights should goe
With him to fight against his cruell foe.
Egistus that by force and violence
So long time vnto him had done such wrong,
Which done, Herestus by his diligence
In little time did make himselfe so strong,
That he another thousand knights did win
To go with him, and therewith did begin
With all his power to march, and in the way
As he along did through the countrey pas,
The first place where he did incampe and stay
To victuall and to rest his army, was
Within a towne (Troyesa cald,) where he
Was welcomed with great solemnitie,
By Forence King thereof, who hated sore
Egistus for his barbrous cruelty,
In murdering King Agamemnon, but more
Because of great deceit and trechery
He had vnto him done, when as the king
That loud him well, him so much honouring
Vnto him gaue his daughter young of age
To be his wife, but he respecting not
The Kings good will, nor breach of mariage
When he had her virginitie once got,
Car'd not for her, but quickly changd his mind,
And shewd himselfe vnto her so vnkind,
That he without a cause her cleane forsooke,
And gainst the lawes of equitie and right
Committed fowle adulterie, and tooke
Clytemnestra to his wife, when he by night
With her consent had slaine Agamemnon,
And of Methena Crowne bereft her Son,
And for that hatefull false conspiracle,
By her and him so mischieuously wrought,
Committing murther and adulterie:
King Forence that by all occasions sought
To be revenged on him for the [...]ame,
Assoone as Prince Horestus to him came,
He did not onely offer him some ayd,
To helpe him in his need against his foe:
But in most friendly wise vnto him sayd,
That he himselfe would also with him goe,
And with foure hundred Knights well furnished,
Vnto Methena land accompanied
Him all the way, but ere they entered
Into the same, Horestus first did go
Into the Temple, where he offered
A sacrifice vnto the Gods, to know
How he should speed, and also to implore
Their aid therein: and when he kneeld before
The Altar, he by Oracle was told
And bidden that without compassion
Shewn to his mother Clytemnestra, he should
Revenge the death of King Agamemnon
His father, vpon her that was the cause
That he was slaine against all humane lawes:
And that he should no mercy to her show.
But to fulfill the Gods degree and hest,
He willed was her body all to hew
In peeces small, which done, he should not rest
Till he had slaine Egistus in likewise,
For iust reward of their great cruelties.
Enioyning him not to be negligent
In any wise, but carefully t'effect
And execute the Gods commandement,
On paine (if that he did the same reiect,)
Of that which might vnto himselfe ensue,
Which Oracle which as Horestes knew.
He entred straight into his natiue soyle,
Where when he came, all that did him withstand,
He did in hostile wise destroy and spoile,
And being in the middest of the land,
Layd siege vnto Methena towne, whereas
False Clytemnestra the Queene at that time was.
But ere Horestus fully thither came
To plant the fiege, Egistus in great post
The day before was gon out of the same,
Intending to prepare a mighty hoast
To set vpon Horestus, and constraine
Him to breake vp his siege, but all in vaine.
For while Horestus still before it lay,
He ceased not his spies abroad to send,
To see and to enquire every day
Which way he went, and what he did intend
Or meant to do, and purposely did set,
Some bands of Knights his passages to let.
Appointing others speedily to ride,
And follow him about in euery place,
Commanding them t'assaile him on each side,
And euer more to keepe him still in chase:
While he the towne so hotly did assaile,
That it could not against his force prevaile.
So that at last he tooke it by assault,
And entring thereinto at euening late,
He found the Queene Clemnestra in a vaut,
Whom (when he had set watch at every gate)
He caused to be bound in chaines, & layd
Therein againe, where till next day she staid,
While traitrous King Egistus hast did make,
Withall the power of men that he could get,
T'invade with speed and vnawares to take
Horestus, & him of his purpose let:
And him thereby an ouerthrow to giue,
And by that meanes Methena to relieue.
But all that he could doe did nought availe,
For vnawares Horestus with him met,
And with such mighty force did him assayle,
That in short space he did the victory get.
And having slaine and put his men to flight,
Himselfe was tane, & to his great despight,
In prison cast, with hands and feet fast bound.
Which done, Horestus caused every one
Wichin the towne that were consenting found
Vnto the death of King Agamemnon,
As also those that armes against him bare
To be committed prisoners, & did spare
None whatsoere he was, but all receiu'd
Due punishment for their reward, & were
Condemnd to die, & of their liues bereaud,
Next day when as the Son shin'd bright & clreare.
And first Clemnestra principall & head
Of all the rest, in mighty feare & dread
Was fore Horestus brought, who presently
Severely drew his sword, & therewithall
(When as he had condemned her to die,)
Did hew & cut her into peeces small:
And caused her in that sort to be borne
Out of the towne, to be deuourd and torne
By Beasts and Birds, and haue no buriall,
And by that meanes gaue her a iust reward:
Which done, he did for false Egistus call,
Who when he had likewise his sentence hard,
(Which was that he starke naked drawne should be
Along the towne, and hang'd vpon a tree,
And not to be cut downe but there to rot.)
To execution went, and so you see
What guerdon by Gods iudgement murther got,
And they are so repaid that traitors bee.
And then the rest that with them did consent
To kill the King and to rebell, were sent
Out of the towne, & hangd on gibbets hie,
That all men might example by them take.
And so Horestus with severitie
Reuenged was for Agamemnons sake
On them that him so traitrously had slaine,
And got his lost inheritance againe.
But when he had thus finished and don
That which the Gods commanded had, & tane
Revenge for death of King Agamemnon,
So traitrously by Queene Clytemnestra slaine.
King Menalus ariuing with his fleet
Of ships (that with him came from Troy) in Creet.
(And with him brought Queene Helena the faire,
That had been cause of all the Troian warre:
The people did in mighty flocks repaire
To see and to behold her beauty rare,
For which so many Princes great were slaine,
But things once done, cannot b'vndon againe.)
Who hearing of his brothers death, & that
In traitrous wise he had been murthered
By Clemnestra his wife, was grieud thereat:
But yet with partiality much led,
Considering on the fact as it behou'd
Him to haue done, he was in hart [...]ore mou'd
Against Horestus that so merciles,
With rigor great and extreame crueltie
Had slaine his mother, like one pitiles,
And cleane bereft of all civility;
For which he swore & vou'd if he did liue,
He would him of his regall Crowne depriue.
Affirming for his cruelty so great
By law of God that he vnworthily
Vpon his Fathers Royall throne did sit,
And therefore straight againe to ship did hie:
And leauing Creet, to Athens sayl'd so fast,
That he ariud in Nestors land at last.
And therein was receaud and welcomed
As his estate requird, but he possest
With fury great, and by much choller led,
Would not content himselfe, nor be at rest
Till he had told to Nestor why he came,
And of him askt his counsell in the same.
Desiring him that he a meanes would be
By counsell, & by power if that he might,
To put Horestus from his dignitie
And Regall throne, (which though it were his right)
He said, that he had lost the same because
He had his mother slaine gainst natures lawes.
And therevpon to Athens both they went,
And did require the Princes of the land,
To meet together there in Parlament,
Where Menalus gaue them to vnderstand
What Horestus to Clytemnestra had don,
And craued all their iudgements therevpon,
Who being there himselfe, and hearing what
King Menalus had said, and did es [...]ie
His meaning and intent was flatly that
He would haue him depriued. Did replie
With courage bold, and sayd, he had don nought
But that which all the Gods decreed and thought
Convenient to be done, and then did shew
How he commanded was by them to go
Into Messena land, and there to hew
His mother all in peeces, and to do
The same without all ruth or compassion,
Because she had kild King Agamemnon;
And that the murther chiefely had been wrought
By her alone against all humane lawes,
And therefore all the Princes there besought
With equitie to thinke vpon the cause,
And not with any malice nor in rage,
To seeke to take from him his heritage,
He being Son to King Agamemnon,
And true and lawfull heire thereto by right,
Though Clytemnestra sought his destruction,
And disposed him thereof hy might.
Which hauing sayd Duke Nestor hastely
Stood on his feet, and for him did reply,
And said, that he would for Horestus sake,
That had don nought but that which shold be don
And lawfull was, his quarrell vndertake
Against all those that held opinion
Contrary therevnto, but none repli'd
To him againe, for euery man espi'd
That Horestus had reason so to do;
And therefore all agreed and gaue consent
To Crowne him King, and did proceed thereto:
Which don, they did dissolue their Parlament,
And so Horestus by his subiects true,
Was crowned King againe with honor due
To his estate, and after that was made
Good friends with old King Menalus againe,
Whereof King Idi [...]us being glad,
That friendship long betweene them to maintaine,
By mediation twixt them brought to pas,
That Hermion that Helens daughters was
By Menalus, was maried vnto
King Horestus, and by that alliance,
So made and surely knit betweene them two,
They ceased all their strife and variance,
And afterward did liue and raigne in peace,
And more and m [...]re in honors did encrease.
Meane time Egistus daughter Exion
Whom he on Queene Clytemnestra had begot,
Did fall into such desperation,
That she all worldly pleasures cleane forgot,
And did endure so great extreamity,
That she did hang her selfe vpon a tree.
But here I must digresse and turne my stile
From Horestus to King Ulisses, and
Of his most strange adventures speake a while,
Which endurd both on the sea and land.
Who when he did to Greece againe repaire,
A while he found the weather cleare & faire,
And then againe when as the skies did frowne,
And did begin to thunder & to raine,
He was vpon the seas cast vp & downe,
And had no more ships with him then but twaine,
The which like marchant ships were furnished,
That he might sayle the safelier without dread.
Yet nerethelesse for all his policy,
The wind so much contrary gainst him was,
That he was forced by extremity
To fall vpon the shoare & land, whereas
King Thelamon (that was so falsely slaine
By night within his bed,) some time did raigne.
Where he no sooner got vnto the land,
But he was tane and into Prison throne,
And bound with Iron chaines both foot and hand,
Because he murthered King Thelamon,
(As they suspicion had) but he del [...]so
With them, that at the last they let him go,
But yet with losse of all that ere he had
Within his ships, and after that againe
He put to sea, and was exceeding glad
To haue escaped so, but all in vaine:
For Fortune so contrary to him was,
That as he on the seas along did pas,
Vnhappily he fell into the hand
Of Naulus, who watch long his coast had layd
To spoyle the Greeks, that thereon chanst to land,
And by him there against his will was staid,
And into cruell prison cast againe,▪
Because he did suspect that he had slaine
Pallamindes his Son: but being bold
Of spirit, and of wit and wisedome great,
So smothly for himselfe his tale he told,
That he againe at liberty was set:
And out of Naulus danger safely got,
But by what me anes the story telleth not.
And hauing well escaped from the same,
He trauailed in simple poore array
A foot throughout the land, till that he came
To King Idumeus court, and there did stay,
Who seeing him in such a meane estate
And barely clad, did wonder much thereat.
Yet nerethelesse disdaind him not therefore,
But welcomed him with glad & ioyfull cheare,
And honord him although he came so poore:
And when they two alone together were,
Ulisses his complaint vnto him made,
And told him what vnto him chanced had.
And in this wise with sad and heavy cheere
Vnto him sayd, my Lord the gentlenes
You shew to me that thus distessed heere
Vnto you came, imboldneth me t'expresse
The manner of my fortunes, and to tell
You how & in what sort they on me fell.
First, when I did the Troian land forsake,
With wind at will which at that time did blow,
And entred ship my course for Greece to take,
I sayled to an Isle I did not know
Cald Mirma, which with all things did abound
That are to be desird, wisht, or found.
And which for gold or siluer may be bought,
Wherein for certaine time aboad I made,
And all the while I staied, wanted nought
That needfull was for man, & with me had
The treasure which I won in Troy, & men
Good store to serue my turne withall, & when
I did perceiue that Isle to be so sound
And wholsome aire, I purposely did stay
Therein, and all that while no creature [...]ound
That once molested me. Till on a day
When we did find the weather faire & still,
And wind to blow according to our will▪
We went abord, & straight did put to seas,
And in a little space made so good way,
That we ariued at Clanstafages,
Where with our ships we for a while did stay,
And had the wind & weather cleare & faire,
But who may put his trust in wind or aire?
For in good hope to haue a pleasant skie,
And roome at will as I had found before;
And entred ship and fast againe did hie
To sea, where when for three daies and no more
I [...]ayled had with wind still at my backe,
At last it turn'd about & th'aire waxt blacke.
And such a hideous tempest did arise
Vpon the sea, that I was in despaire
To loose my life, it thundred in such wise,
And lightning flasht so fast out of the aire:
And in that sort being driuen to and fro,
In danger great and knew what to do,
It was our chance at last to spie out land,
Whereto we made and found the same to be
An Island cald Cicile, and out of hand
Cast anker forth with great extreamitie,
And got to shoare with labor sore and paine,
Wherein at that same time two kings did raigne.
Whereof the one was cald Sorigones,
Who vnto vs prou'd cruell and vnkind.
The other had to name King Coclopes,
Who likewise had a fierce & bloody mind;
Both brethren, and both like, for difference none
Betweene them was for bad condition.
For both of them at once vpon vs set,
And cruelly a prey of vs did make,
And all the goods out of my ships did fet,
And forcibly the same from me did take,
And left me nought wherewith my selfe t'relieue.
But that which most of all my mind did grieue,
Was that when they perceiud I had no more
Left in my ships for them, away they went,
And vnto vs such cruell minds they bore,
That they their Sons two mighty Giants sent
Downe to our ships, the one [...],
The other huge and strong Poliphe [...]s.
Who being both of body mighty great,
And therewith all exceeding tall and strong,
In fierce and cruell wise vpon vs set,
And did assayle vs so that ere t'was long
A hundred of my men they slew, that were
Not able there most cruell blowes to beare,
Nor gainst them long to stand in their defence,
Which don, they tooke me and King Alphenore,
And in their armes by force and violence,
Despightfully away with them they b [...]re,
And carried vs (that were in mighty feare)
Into a darke and filthy prison, where
Our hands and feet with Iron chaines were bound,
And we were fed with bread and water cleare,
And had no bed, but bare and naked ground
To lyevpon while we remaines there.
This mighty Giant cald Poliphemus,
Who as I sayd had so imprisoned vs,
A sister had that passed every one
That liued in her time, for beauty rare,
Who as it seem'd had some compassion
Of our distresse, (as maydens often are
More kind then men,) and came to visit vs
In prison, by which meanes it fell out thus:
That Alphenore (though captiue then he lay)
So much admird her beautie, that he fell
In loue with her, and did nought night and day,
But musd thereon, and liked her so well,
That though he did himselfe in fetters find,
Yet he on her did holy set his mind:
And faster with loues chaines had tyed his hart,
Then with theyron bands wherein we lay
Sixe moneths in great distresse, ere we could part
Or get from thence, for so long we did stay
Imprisoned, till that Polliphemus,
At last had some compassion vpon vs.
And after we had been tormented so,
Did ease vs of our great captivity,
And of his grace and fauour let vs go,
Whereas we would at our owne liberty.
But Alphenore still burning hot in loue,
Could not the same out of his mind remoue,
But dayly felt a sore and grieuous fit
Thereof within his heart, till at the last
He found the meanes by policy and wit,
(When he had many stormes of loue orepast,)
That on a night he did the mayd convay
Out of her fathers house, and went away
With her so secretly, that no man knew't,
Till morning early ere that it was day:
Polliphemus did sweare that we should rue't,
And following vs oretooke in the way,
And such a fierce assault on vs did make,
That [...]e the mayd from Alphenor did take,
And then our men so furiously did slay,
With th'aid of those that him accompanied,
That they compelled were to giue him way,
And at the last in extreame feare they fled,
And left me in great danger all alone,
To fight with that most mighty Champion,
And when I saw there was no remedy
To scape from death, I did with courage stout
Defend my selfe, and smot him sodainly
Vpon the face, and thrust his eye cleane out,
Which done, I went vnto my companie,
And with them to our ships in hast did flie:
And no man did perceiue which way we tooke,
And finding wind and weather fit to go,
We went aboord and speedily forsooke
That countrey, as best for vs so to do,
For there was no abiding then for vs.
(Of Poliphemus Ovid writeth thus,
That he a huge and mighty Gyant was,
Whose face was couered ore with beard & haire,
So thicke and so defusedly, that as
Men lookt on him, they were in mighty feare,
The rather for that he deformedly
In middest of his forehead had an eie,
And none elsewhere, as men are vsd to haue,
Which eie when as Ulisses had smit out,
He did therefore s [...]extreamely rage and raue,
That he ran blindfold groping round about
Ore hils & dales, and wheresoere he past,
Huge rocks and mighty stones about him cast
In euery place, supposing so to be
Reuenged on Ulisses for the [...]ame,
As you at large in Ovids booke may see,
Which he his Metamorphosis doth name,)
And hauing so escaped from his hand,
And safely with our ships got from the land,
We sayled all that day vntill t'was night,
When as it was our chance vnhappily
Vpon a round and little Isle to light,
Which in the middle of the sea doth lie:
(Eludium cald) wherein as then did dwell
Dame Circes, who in magicke did excell,
And would that which she tooke in hand performe
So cunningly, that by her Art she could
A man or woman when she list transforme
Into what kind of shape so ere she would,
And make them in that sort to liue as long
As pleased her, (her potions were so strong.)
And likewise made her selfe by Art so faire,
That none like vnto her was to be found,
For that whosoere did to her Isle repaire,
Could not get out of that accursed ground
Without her leaue, for by that Sorceres,
My mind was so possest with carelesnes,
That I had no desire at all to go
From thence, but there with a yeare did stay,
And truth to tell, I was enchanted so,
That I could not get thence by night nor day,
So pleasant was the life that there I led.
And while that I with her continued,
She did conceaue with child by me, and had
A sonne that Thelagenius had to name,
For which cause much account of me she made,
And lou'd me more then others for the same:
But yet at last by secret providence,
I in her Art had such experience,
That maugre all inchantments she could vse,
I stole away from her; and to conclude,
Though she so many others did abuse
By Art, I did her divelish Art delude:
And by that meanes escaped from her hand,
And with my men got free out of her land.
But nerethelesse it did me nought availe,
For that when I had been a little while
Vpon the seas, and forward thought to saile,
A wind contrary blew me to an Isle,
That farre remote within the sea did stand,
And was exceeding rich, and fertile land.
Wherein Calipha, Circes sister raignd,
Whose Art and foule inchantments were so strong,
That she againe my liberty restraind,
And spight my heart there also held me long:
But (truth to say) she did so much abound
In courtesie, the which in her I found,
And was a Lady of such excellence,
For rarenesse of her qualities and wit,
That tarrying there to me was no offence:
But though that I well pleased were with it,
Yet loath to stay, I did her Art prevent,
And secretly escapt from her, and went
Directly to an Isle wherein did stand
A Temple, where there was an Oracle,
And whosoere therein did chance to land,
Might answere haue (as't were by miracle)
Of any thing whereof he wold enquire.
Whereas I did most earnestly desire
To know what fortune should vnto me fall,
And also how I might prevent the same,
Where I was told my future fortunes all,
What soere I ask [...], saue only what became
Of soules of mortall men when they are dead,
For nothing therevnto it answered.
As being that which is not in the might
Nor power of any creature to tell,
For that belongeth wholly and of right
To God that doth in highest heavens dwell,
For it is cleane beyong the reach of man.
And from that Isle I once againe began
To hoyse vp sailes in surging seas, & scourd
The same, but with contrary
In Caribdis, where Mermaids vse to lie,
That from the middle down-wards fishes are,
And from the middle vpwards, women are.
Whose custome is vpon the seas to [...]leet,
And sing with such a pleasing harmonie,
Their sugred Syrens songs with voyces sweet,
That they are able with their melodie,
To ravish any mortall man aliue,
And for a time his spirits all depriue,
And bring him therewithall in a such a trance,
That for a while he thinketh vpon nought,
But is bereau'd of his remembrance,
Till vnawares he is in danger brought,
And with their pleasing songs cast in a sleepe,
Till he's by them drawne vnderwater deepe.
And so both men and ships oft drowned are,
And by inticements of their liues bereaud,
If sayling by they haue of them no care.
But at that time they were by me de [...]eaud,
For both mine cares with wax fast stopped were,
Which made me that I cold by no means heare
The sweetnes of their warbling notes, whereby
(Mans reason blinded is, and sences lost)
And so escaped by my policy
With all my men, and in the seas sore tost:
Did saile so long till toyld with wearinesse,
It was our chance t'arriue in great distresse
Before Phenician haven, where we cast
Our Anckors out, and straight on land we went▪
But when we thought we had all danger past,
The people with great malice gainst vs bent,
In fierce and cruell wise my men assaild,
And in short space against them so prevaild,
That most of them were slaine, and I be [...]t
Of that small store of treasure which I had
Within my ships, and nought for me was left:
And all my men that were not slaine they made
To go with them, and there in prison cast,
I left them. And thus in great care I past
A world of woes, as Fortune hath me led
A dance, with little joy and store of paine,
Whereby vnto my cost experienced,
In her vnconstant courses that are vaine
I fallen am, in need and poverty,
And having with most great extremity
By sea and land, through many dangers past,
With heart possest with sorrow, woe, and griefe,
I am vnto your presence come at last,
In hope to find some succour and riliefe
At your hands, to whom with griefe and care,
I am thus bold my Fortunes to declare.
Presuming with my selfe as you are wise,
That you will take my comming in good part,
And therefore at this time let this suffice
That I haue said. And so with heavy hart
And woefull cheare, when he had sighed sore,
He held his peace a while, and spake no more.
Which long discourse Idumeus having hard
Ulisses tell, he did all that he might
With words to comfort him; and nothing spard
That might in any wise breed his delight;
Thereby to put all griefe out of his mind:
And was to him so loving and so kind,
That willing him his heavines to leaue,
Assured him as long as he remaind
With him in Creet, he would vnto him giue
Whatsoeuer he did want, and entertaind
Him in such wise, that in short space he was
Well eased of his sorrow. And when as
He had a while reposd himselfe and staid
In Creet, and that his griefes ore passed were;
He tooke his leaue and to Idumeus sayd
He would go home: which when the king did heare,
He gaue him clothes as his estate requird,
And all things els whatsoeuer he desird,
And needfull was to serue his turne, and when
He should depart and ships prepared were
In readines for him, he gaue him men
And victualls store to serue him, and to beare
His charge till he got home. And so he went
To sea againe with speed, and homeward bent
His course, and as he sayld along the way
He ankored with his ships and went on shore
To see King Alphenon, whose countrey lay
Not farre from his, (who likewise longed sore
To see him and to heare his Eloquence,
The which in him did flowe by influence
Of nature, and did pleasure therein take.)
By whom he was receau'd and welcomed
Most hartily, and of him then did make,
So much that with great honour he was led
Vnto his Royall Pallace, where as he
T'encrease his joy heard of Penelope
His true and loving wife, whose constancie
Was such that while she liu'd on earth, the same
Was much extold, and shall continually
Be spread throughout the world by flying Fame:
As she whom no temptation ere could moue;
In thought or deed to be vntrue in loue
Vnto her Lord, while he was in the warre▪
So that through all the Grecian land she was
The Myrrour, and the commendation bare,
To be the onely woman that did pas
All others for her modestie. Yet she
Was knowen and held most beautifull to be,
And therewithall of noble howse and blood,
And yet nere any more temptations had
To try her, which she constantly withstood,
And gainst them all so great resistance made:
That never any breach of loue was found
In her, that could to her dishonor sound.
For when her Lord from her was gone so farre,
She never left to mourne for still his sake,
When as she thought vpon the deadly warre
Wherein he was, and fearefully would shake
For th'absence of her Lord, both eve & morrow,
Was vnto her continuall griefe and sorrow.
And ever when she heard of Hectors name,
She presently in floods of salt teares drownd
Her comely face, and cheeks, and with the same
Oft fainted, and did fall into a swound:
With mighty feare which in her heart she had
To thinke vpon his strong and trenchant blade
Wherewith so great a slaughter he did make,
Among the Greeks continually in fight,
Least that her Lord of pride should vndertake
To trie his force against that worthy knight,
And loose his life, and many times she past
The weary night with fearefull dreames that cast
Her into many doubtfull thoughts, and made
Her loath, and shun the company and sight
Of other men, as she that chiefely had,
Her sole and only comfort, and delight
In her deare Lord, and other joy had none
In all the world, but onely him alone.
And did for him all others loue refuse.
And therefore he that with a peeuish mood
In word or deed doth offer to abuse,
And speake of women otherwise than good:
I wish him to remember and to see
The life and praise of Queene Penolope.
Least that for doing so he might be dam'd,
And therefore to thee Guido I must tell
That thou within thy heart shouldst be asham'd
For writing of them otherwise then well:
For though some women do offend, and bee
Vnconstant, and vnfaithfull too, yet shee
That liueth well and doth deserue no blame,
Is not to be reproued for their sins.
And whereas Guido writeth, and doth name
Some that liud bad, and in his Booke begins
To shew th'vnconstant life of Cresida,
Th'adultrous mariage of Queene Helena.
And cruell mind of false Medea, who
Her children and her selfe so fiercely slew,
Let him not speake too partially, but do
As right requires, and giue to them their due.
And tell you of Penelope the Queene
That faithfull was. And of faire Policene
That liu'd and di'd a Virgin without spot.
And with them also ioyne Queene Hecuba,
Whose like for vertue while she liu'd was not
In all the world, and also Cassandra,
That did deserue great praise for stedfastnesse,
And Panthasilia for her gentlenesse.
With many more that well might be set downe:
And he shall find if hethe truth confesse,
The vertuous and such as deserue renowne
The greater number be▪ and th'other lesse
Gainst whome he doth so enviously invay,
And all men that do favor them will say
That he did erre in his opinion,
To tax them so without exception.
And while Vlisses staid with Alphenon,
Ere he from thence determind to he gon:
A messenger vnto him certified,
That if from home he did long time abide
Without all doubt his Queene Penelope,
By some great Lords whose countrey bordred
Next vnto his, by force should rauisht be,
And in despight of all his men be led
Out of his land full sore against her will,
For she to him remained constant still,
Yet nerethelesse they had all flatly sworne,
That if by force she were not rescued,
She should without delay away be borne:
And to that end with her continued,
And would not part from thence but with her staid,
Who in hir heart therefore was much dismaid:
But yet so wisely with them dalied,
That they could get no vantage at her hand
But with delaies to their demands were fed.
Which heavy newes when he did vnderstand,
And knew the truth by letters which she sent
To him, he was in heart so fiercely bent,
That he would stay no longer but begon
In hast from thence, and then most humbly praid
His sure and trusty friend King Alphenon,
To bring him home, which he not once denaid:
But with him put to sea when wind was good,
And finding nought that them theron withstood
They soone ariud within Ulisses land,
And in the night were secretly conuaid,
Vnto the place where those that did withstand
And make resistance gainst his wife, then stay,
Where sodainely before they could awake,
He did them vnawares surprize and take.
And without more delay or mercy shewen,
As he them found fast sleeping in their beds,
He causd them all in peeces to be hewen,
And on the castle walles did set their heads:
The which before the Cocke next day did crow,
Were seen thereon to stand vpon a row.
Which done, that night they there continued close,
Till morning that the Larke with pleasant song,
Began to mount aloft when Phoebus rose,
At which time with a mighty force and strong
They entred in the towne, and by the Queene
Were welcomed, as she that [...]g had beene
In sorrow great, and had endur'd such paine
For th'absence of her Lord she lou'd so well,
That wonder twas she could so long maintaine
Her health, but if I should vnto you tell,
And orderly set downe the pleasures great,
And joy they did conceiue when as they met,
And what they to each other friendly said
Wi [...] [...]ry [...]es, and many [...] sweet embrace,
When as they were in bed together laid,
And lovingly beheld each others face:
As also what great joy their subiects made,
When they beheld their soueraigne Lord that had
So long been absent from them in the warre,
And what rich presents they to him did make,
To shew the loue which they vnto him bare,
And that he did a new alleigeance take
Of them againe, and how that every one
Great honor shew'd vnto king Alphenone.
And thank't him for the succour he had lent
Vnto their Lord to helpe him in his need,
And how ere he out of that countrey went
A mariage was by those two Kings agreed,
Betweene the daughter of king Alphenon,
(Cald Naufica) and young Prince Thelamon
Ulisses Son, whereby an aliance great
Betweene those Kings perpetually was made.
It would be overlong for me to set
It downe to you, and be a meanes t'orelaid
My Booke with that, wherein I would be briefe
As Guido is, who toucheth but the chiefe
And speciallest matter, and goeth on
To shew how, when that mariage was agreed
And consumated twixt them. Alphenon
Tooke shipping and went home againe with speed
Into his Land, and left Ulisses still,
In ioy with Queene Penelope, vntill
That fierce and cruell Atropos did bend
Herselfe against them both, and did bereaue
Him of his life, and vnto him did send
A sodaine death: vntill which time Ile leaue
To speake of them, and for a little while
Change matter, and to Pyrrhus turne my stile.

CHAP. II.

¶ Here the Author sheweth the stocke of Pyr­rhus by lyneall discent, and telleth how his Grand-fathers name was Peleus, and his Grand-mother Thetides.

AS Guido doth, so must I likewise tell
And shew at large what of Achilles Son
Young Pyrrhus did become, and what befell
To him when as the Troian warre was don.
Whose grand-fire as the story telleth vs,
While he did liue, was cald King Peleus.
His grand-mother nam'd Thetides, whose Son
Achilles was, (that falsely lost his life
Within the towne of Troy, when he had won
Great honor at that siege,) that tooke to wife
Dardanica the faire, (who as I read
Was daughter to a King cald Lycomead.)
And on her his Son Pyrrhus did beget,
Whom some men vse to call Neptolemus)
Her grand-sire King Atastus was so great
An enemie vnto King Peleus,
Achilles, and to Pyrrhus, with the rest
Of that same stocke, that he did sore detest
And hate them all, and furiously when as
King Peleus staid in Thessaly alone,
And then without his Son Achilles was,
Who to the mighty siege of Troy was gone:
He entered by force into his land,
And finding none that could him there withstād,
He tooke the same from him, and made him flie
Into a Caue with Thetides his wife:
And there he was compelled secretly
To hide himselfe, whereas to saue his life,
Long after in great misery he lay,
While cruell King Atastus every day
Sought all the meanes he could devise or find,
To bring his Nephew Pyrrhus to his end,
And therevpon determind in his mind
In secret wise his knights abroad to send,
To take and to intrap him on the way
As he returned home, and him to stay.
But Pyrrhus out of all the snares escapt,
Which he for him did lay by sea and land,
And at the last as Fortune for him shapt,
(As no man can his Desteny withstand.)
With losse of many men and treasure great,
Before the towne of Malasus did get
Vnto the shoare: where he did vnderstand,
Of Thetides and Peleus bannishment
By violence out of their natiue land,
And how false King Atastus was so bent
Gainst him, that he each hower and minit sought
His death, & nere would cease till he had brought
The same to passe. Which when as Pyrrhus knew,
He purposed his malice to prevent
By some sinister meanes, and to eschew
The furie of Atastus gainst him bent.
(Who as the story saith, had two Sons more,
Th'one the name of Menalippus bore,
The other of them was Polistenes,
Two Knights of great renowne, and valorous,
And one faire daughter named Thetides.)
While his old aged grandsire Peleus
With Thetides his wife lay in a caue,
In great distresse their woefull liues to saue.
And yet cleane out of hope relieud to be,
Or comforted in that extremety,
Vnles it were by Pyrrhus meanes, when he
Returnd, for which he praid continually,
And curst the time of his so long aboad.
Which heavy newes when Pyrrhus vnderstood
At Malasus, he straight to sea did hie,
With full intent if he did safely get
Vnto his natiue land of Thessalie,
He would false King Atastus purpose let,
And be reuengd on him ere it was long
For all the mischiefe, cruelty, and wrong,
That he had done vnto King Peleus.
But first before that to the Sea he went,
He cald to him two knights, one Crilippus,
The other named Adrastus, whom he sent
To Thessalie to heare and vnderstand
Where King Atastus kept within that land,
And what gainst him he did intend to do.
And that they might the better bring't to pas,
He gaue them letters, which he sent vnto
One Assandrus a Lord, that sometime was
A counsellor vnto King Peleus,
And▪ Chamberlin: and when he had done thus,
He entred ship and would no longer tarry,
But through the seas did scowre and staied not,
Although the wind and weather were contrary,
And stormes arose till at the last he got
To Thessalie, where t'was his chance to land
(Hard by the place wherein the caue did stand.
Where Peleus and his wife themselues did hide
Mong bushes, briers, and thornes,) & all alone
Did walke vpon the sand without a guide,
And when he had with heavy heart thus gone,
A little while, King Peleus comming out
His Cau [...] to take the aire, was in a doubt
To loose his life, when as he saw a knight
There all alone, and sore abashed staid
Till he of him had taken better sight,
And when he had beheld him well, dismaid
In mind, he thought that he Achilles saw,
And therewithall did neerer to him draw.
(For he so like vnto Achilles was,
For visage shape and personage, that none
Could know the one from th'other well,) so as
King Peleus to himselfe did musethereon:
And straight with teares distilling downe his face
He ran his nephew Pyrrhus to embrace,
And being somewhat better comforted,
With ioyfull heart (though grieud) to him did tell,
How cruelly he had been banished,
And forced in a caue long time to dwell
In misery and woe, and nothing left
To succour him, but all from him bereft,
With crowne and Kingdome, by the cruelty
And hatred of Atastus that had don
It causeles vnto him, whose tiranny
For want of ayd he could by no meanes shon,
Which Pyrrhus hauing heard and marking well,
Into so great an agony then fell,
That he stood still and would not speake a word,
And therewith in his heart exceeding wroth
To heare the cause, (so much the same abhord,)
That speechles to his ships from thence he goeth,
(And would not make an answere therevnto,
Still studying with himselfe what he should do.)
Till he was told how that the selfe same day
Atastus with his Sons was ridden out
Into a wood not far of from that way
To hunt for deare, and that they were in doubt
To be assayld by him, which when he knew
He stayed not, but straight himselfe withdrew,
And putting of his clothes, apparelled
Himselfe like one of poore and meane degree,
And girding on his sword without all dread,
Went all alone into the wood to see
What Fortune or advantage he could find
Therein, to ease his sad and troubled mind.
And as he went along from place to place,
Much like a man that seem'd to make great mone;
At last it was his chance to heare the chace,
And therewithall he slept aside that none
Of them should see nor find him where he stood:
And when he had a while been in the wood,
It was Prince Menalippus chance to ride
That way with Prince Polistines his brother▪
Where Pyrrhus, thē did stand▪ whom whē they spid,
They staid their horse, and both of them together▪
With countnāce sterne before they thēce wold pas,
Went vnto him, and askt him what he was,
And whence he came, and why so poorely clad
He wandred in that manner all alone,
Like one that neither ioy nor comfort had?
And he that seemd in heart to sigh and groane,
With heavy cheare, and countenance full sad,
Replied to them againe, and answere made,
That he by chance was cast vpon that shore
By tempest, and how all his companie
Were drownd at sea, and that he and no more
Escapt with life, but yet vnhappelie
Had lost all that he had, and without joy
A Grecian borne that lately came from Troy,
There wandred solitarilie, and praid
Them that they would vpon him then bestow
Some money and apparell for to aid
Him in his need, that had been brought so low.
Who pitying his estate, did not denay
To do him good, but bad him there to stay,
That they might see what he could do: & whan
They had said so, and turn'd their heads aside,
Behold a mightie Hart before them ran,
Wherewith Prince Menalippus straight did ride
In hast to follow it, with spheare in hand,
And left his brother there who still did stand
By Pyrrhus, talking with him all alone,
And seeming to be wearie, lighted there
Off from his horses backe, which hauing done,
He laid him downe to rest, and giving eare
Vnto the woefull moane that Pyrrhus made,
No feare of any hurt or treason had.
Where sodainely ere he perceiu'd the blow,
He was by Pyrrhus thrust into the hart,
From whence the blood in streame began to flow,
And there he died, while Pyrrhus side-waies start:
And left him lying groueling on the plaine,
Till Menalippus came to him againe,
Where while with weeping eies and colour wan
To looke vpon his brothers corps he stood,
Fierce Pyrrhus in great furie to him ran
And with a mind that thursteth after blood:
Straight with his sword his life from him bereft,
And by his brother dying there him left.
And so they were vnfortunatelie slaiue
By Pyrrhus, who when he had done the same,
Withdrew himselfe out of that place againe,
And as he went he saw a Knight that came
Vnto him wards, of whom he did enquire
His name, and what the reason was that there
He road alone so farre out of the way,
Who answered his name was Cineras,
Great King Atastus knight, who that same day
Did hunt within the wood, and that he was
Not far from thence, whom Pyrrhus without [...]ord
Repli [...]d to him againe, smot with his sword▪
And kild him in that place, and then forsooke
The Forrest, and directly went his way
Vnto his ships (with fierce and furious looke)
Where he put of his clothes, and did array
Himselfe in purple velvet like a king,
And to the Forrest backe againe did fling.
Where sodainely while he walkt too & fro,
He met with king Atastus all alone,
Who wondring much to see him clothed so,
Askt what he was, & why there making mone
He wandered so solitarilie?
T'whom Pyrrhus answere made, and for replie
Said full of griefe and woe I doe confesse
My selfe to be, and therefore wandering
Alone I go to thinke on the distresse
That happened hath to Priamus the King,
Whose Son I was, and by the fall of Troy
Bereft of all my honor, wealth, and joy.
I now am made a prisoner gainst my will
To Pyrrhus, vnto whom I promise made
To be his prisoner true, and to fulfill
His hest in every thing, and therefore sad
And heavilie I walke, and so said he,
I haue you told how it now stands with me.
Which when he had so said vnto the King,
Atastus friendly spake to him againe,
And questioned with him of many a thing,
And mongst the rest where Pyrrhus did remaine
In Thessalie, and what he went about?
And Pyrrhus said, to put you out of doubt,
He doth as now continue in a caue
Not farre from hence, and there doth closely stay
In mightie feare and dread, his life to saue,
And pointed to the caue where Peleus lay:
The which he did to make him looke about,
While he in furious wise his sword drew out,
Intending there Atastus to haue slaine,
But as he thought to giue the fatall blow
Queene Thetides came running to the plaine,
And weeping at his feet her selfe did throw,
And holding fast his sword, did make him stay
His hand, and thus vnto him she did say,
Let it suffice good nephew thou hast don,
And from so sore revenge thy selfe refraine,
(Sith gainst things past remedy there is none,)
Hast thou not kild (said she) my brethren twaine,
And wilt thou without mercy take away
My aged fathers life? I pray thee stay
Thy cruell sword, and now no more blood shed,
(Remembring that the blood thou spilst is thine,)
And pittie take vpon thy kindered,
From whom thou comst by right paternall lin [...]
For all men cruell Parasites contemne,
And for vnnaturall murtherers▪ condemne.
The which when Pyrrhus heard like Tyger wroth,
He said, whosoere against the same will stand,
Despight of him whether he be leefe or loth,
He shall be slaine at this time by my hand:
For hath he not (said he) by force and might
Bereft my grand-sire Peleus of his right.
Whose Queene you are, and he your Lord & king,
Whose part you ought to take, and not to stay
My hand from doing of so iust a thing,
And therefore without faile I will him slay:
For nought there is that now his life shall saue
Vnlesse my grand-sire Peleus doth it craue.
And therewith aged Peleus did begin
To creepe out of the caue, and when he saw
What danger King Atastus then was in,
He praid his Nephew Pyrrhus to withdraw
His hand, and not to kill him in that place,
But rather to respect his woefull case.
And thinke sayd he vpon the extreame smart
Of him, that weeping sore with cruell paine
Before thee stands, with cold and dying hart,
To see his Sons here lie before him slaine
By thee, the which (said he) if thou be wise,
I pray thee at this time let it suffice;
And thinke thy selfe enough revengd to bee
On him, if thou considerest well thereon,
And sith he doth submit himselfe to thee,
I pray thee for my sake let him alone
And spare his life, that ready is to die
For griefe, which thou shalt not to me denie▪
The which when Pyrrhus heard he did refr [...]n [...]
From killing him▪ as P [...]le [...]s [...]ade [...]quest,
And when he had put vp his sw [...] [...]gain [...],
Perceaving that he had done for the hast:
While these two aged kings together were,
He made accord betweene them both, [...] there
They did agree on either side to make
Division of the land of Thessalie,
And each of them the halse thereof to take,
And of the same to haue the soveraignty:
And never more to striue nor to contend
For it againe, till they their liue [...] should end.
And while they two and Pyrrhus there alone
Within the wood did stand and no man by,
Atastus in this wise to speake begon▪
And sayd, my Lords I can it not deny.
(As both of you, as well as I, do know)
That crooked age hath broght me down so low,
That nature in me now begins to drie,
And all my wits and sences so decay,
Whereby I feele such insufficiency
Within my selfe, that I must truely say,
That I am farre vnfit to take the paine,
Within the land of Thessalie to raigne.
For seeing that both of my sons are dead,
And I am left alone without an heire,
And haue no children living to succeed
Me in my throane, I wholly do despaire
Of worldly ioy and all felicity,
For wavring fortunes mutability▪
Hath taught me (as I must of force confesse)
That no man doth in certaine state abide,
And that there is no trust nor stablenesse
In worldly ioyes: and thereforeile provide
While time doth serue, that strife there shall be none
For Thassalie, when I am dead and gone.
Forgainst the will of God ile not repine)
And to that end the Scepter of thi [...] land,
And regall throane for my part I resigne,
And giue into my Nephew Pyrrhus hand:
And with that work his faith and troth he g [...]e▪
That he possession straight therof should [...]
In presence of his daughter Thetides.
And Pyrrhus that no other likewise ment,
Said, sith that is doth king Atast [...] please
Here to resigne hi [...] part, I am concour
To do the like, affirming that long since,
It ever was his purpose and pretence,
And th'onely worldly ioy he had, to leaue
His Crowne vnto his Nephew, whensoere
Death with his dart should him of life bereaue,
As lawfull heire vnto the same: and there
In presence of Atastus, and his wife,
To Pyrrhus said, to end all warre and strife
Betweene vs twaine, I will likewise resigne
My Scepter, Sword, and Crowne into thy hand,
As fully and as whole as ere 'twas mine,
And makethee Lord of my part in this land,
Which freely vnto thee I now do giue,
To be thine owne as long as thou shalt liue.
Which having saith and this agreement made
Betweene the kings, as you haue vnderstood,
Atastus knights, who in the meane time had
Disperst themselues abroad within the wood,
Came thither, and were willed by their Lord,
To sweare and vow to hold & keepe th'accord
Betweene them made, whereto they gaue consent.
And so together in a company,
Each for his part well pleased and content,
They road vnto the towne of Thessalie:
Where king Atastus cald a Parliament,
And therein by expresse Commandement,
Caus'd all his subiects whatsoere they were,
(Especially his whole Nobility)
In open Court to take their oaths, and sweare
To yeeld vnto the soveraignety
Of Pyrrhus: and with full and free accord,
T'acknowledge him to be their King & Lord
Of Thessalie, and none but he alone;
At which time Pel [...] likewise did the same.
Which being thus on either side so done,
By sound of trump the Heralds did proclaime
King Pyrrhus in each street of Thessalie:
And afterward with great solemnity,
They crownd him king of all that land, & made
Such triumph at his Coronation,
And also such a royall banquet had,
That if I should thereof make mention,
It were too much, and I must it forbeare,
Because mine Author writes not thereof here.
But briefly tels, that Pyrrhus by his might
Encreased much the Land of Thessalie,
And raign'd long there with equitie and right▪
And no more thereof speaketh presently,
But vnto other matter turnes his stile,
And shews how king Idumeus dīd the while
In Creet, where he long time had raigned king,
And after him his sonne Prince Merryone
Succeeded, who vntimely death did bring
Vnto his end: and children hauing none,
His brother Prince Leorica obtaind
The Crown of Creet, & therin long time raignd.
And while in Creet this change of Princes fell,
Atastus by consent of Pyrrhus, made
A rich and sumptuous tombe which did excell
For workmanship, wherein (when as he had
According to his mind full finished
All that thereto belong'd) he buried
His sons which by king Pyrrhus had been slaine
Within the wood. And leaving him doth show,
How while that Pyrrhus prosperously did raigne
In Thessalie, and did in wealth oreflow:
He was provoked want only to lust,
For that which by Gods law is held vniust,
And fell in loue with faire Queene Hermion,
Horestus wife, and had so great desire
To her, that he did wholly thinke thereon:
Whereby his heart was set on such a fire
Of lust, that he by no meanes could content
His mind, till he vnto Methena went.
And there his purpose brought so well about,
That watching time and oportunity,
When Horestus her husband was gone out,
He ravisht her, and after secretly
Tooke her away and held her as his wife,
And long with her liu'd an adulterous life.
(For which Horestus hated him so sore
That he sought all the meanes he could devise
Or find, to be reveng'd on him therefore,
But held his peace (as being very wise)
And for a little while sustaind that wrong,
As knowing well that Pyrrhus was too strong
For him to deale withall, t'revenge the same
At home within his land. Who also made
Andromecha (Prince Hectors wife, that came
With him from Troy) his Concubine, and had
A child by her, who by his Grandsiers name
Achillides was cald, and with the same
She nourished Prince Hectors eldest sonne
Laomedon,) who Pyrrhus being slaine,
And left no child to be his heire, (but one
A bastard borne) his kingdome did obtaine:
By gift of yong Achillides his brother,
Whome Pyrrhus did beget vpon his mother.)
Which women being both of high estate,
And living in great pleasure and delight,
Could not content themselues, but so did hate
Each other, that Queene Hermion in despight
And iealousie, that Pyrrhus loved better
Her Feer then he did her, did send a letter
To Menalus her father, t'whome she wrot,
That notwithstanding her so great degree,
She well perceau'd that Pyrrhus lou'd her not,
But favored more Andromecha then she:
Desiring him with speed to come to kill
Her and her sonne, who granted to her will.
And in great hast went vnto Thessalie,
To be reveng'd on them that never had
Offended him, but yet his cruelty
Could not so farre extend, but he was made
To leaue the same, by those that did withstand
Him in the towne, and tooke her out his hand,
And did abhorre such inhumanity,
(Especially in him that was a king)
Vnto a woman done, which certainly
In my conceit is such a hainous thing:
That it doth make me blush for very shame,
That I should be compeld to tell the same.
But you must vnderstand that this was done,
When Pyrrhus was from home & gone away,
For he that time on pilgrimage was gone
To Delos, there to sacrifice and pray
Devoutly for his fathers soule vnto
Apollo, and such other things to do,
As he had vowd and promist to fulfill,
For ioy of that revenge that had been made
At Troy, on those that did his father kill,
And for that great good fortune that they had,
To triumph ore his Troyan enemy.
Which vantage when Horestus did espy,
Who still laid watch for him both day & night,
He did no time nor no occasion let,
But straight to Delos went with many a knight,
And on him there so furiously did set,
That Pyrrhus was not able to withstand
Horestus, but was slaine there by his hand,
And all that were with him in company▪
(And so king Pyrrhus dy'd and lost his life,
For iust reward of his adultery,
And foule abuse done to Horestus wife.
And let all those that vse to do the like
Remember this, & know that God will strike
Them likewise when they little thinke thereon.)
Whose body was in Delos Temple layd,
Within a costly Marble tombe, which done,
Horestus there no longer time delayd,
But straight when as his enemy was slaine,
He went and got his wife by force againe
Out of the towne of Thessalie, whereas
He found not one that durst against him stand,
Such feare & griefe amongst them then there was,
When they of Pyrrhus death did vnderstand:
And that to rule and governe them was none
Then left, but yong Achillides his sonne,
A child as then not fully three months old,
Whose yong and tender age was not to take
So great a charge in hand, and yet they would
Not put him from't, but for his fathers sake
They were content that he ore them shold raigne.
But when he did to lawfull yeares attaine,
He did resigne his crowne and all his right
In Thessalie vnto Laomedon,
His brother by the mothers side (a knight
Of worthy Troyan blood, Prince Hectors son,
Begotten on his wife Andromecha)
(Protector while he liu'd of Phrigia.)
And made him king & Soveraigne of that land,
Despight of all that durst the same denie.
Who when he had the Crowne & chiefe command
Of all the puissant Realme of Thessalie:
He let the Troyan captiues all go free,
Where as they list at their owne liberty,
And no exception made of any one,
But freed them of all ransome whatsoere
They were to pay: and when he had so done,
And set all things in peace and quiet there,
And much encreast the bounds of Thessalie,
He raign'd long there in great prosperity.
But of the acts of king Laomedon,
Or of king Pyrrhus and his kindered,
Ile cease to speake as now, because thereon
Mine Author writes no more that I can read:
Who briefly by the way somewhat doth show,
(But to what purpose well I do not know)
Of Menons wife (whome fierce Achilles slew,
Because when he Prince Troyelus had kild,
And at his horses taile his body drew,
He valiantly withstood him in the field,
And made him leaue his body, & by force
Sore wounded, beat him down off frō his horse.)
Whose body was entomb'd by Priamus
In Troy, within a little Temple, where
It lay close by the Tombe of Troyelus,
And after did stand therein many a yeare.
Who saith, that long time after she was dead,
And in her natiue Country buried,
Did sodainly at Menons Tombe appeare,
(In shape and forme like to an Angell bright,
Environed with stars that shone most cleare,
And round about the place cast such a light,
That no man could behold her stedfastly,
Her countenance did shine so heavenly.)
Descending from the skies celestiall,
In sight of many men, apparelled
Divinely, and in presence of them all,
Did make her husbands tombe be opened:
And out of it did take his bones, and beare
Them (in a chest of gold which she had there
Of purpose brought downe with her) cleane from thence,
And on a sodaine vanished away,
And never was seen there before nor since.
Which did the standers by so much dismay,
That at the sight thereof they were affraid,
And every one his iudgement thereof said,
Some thinking't was a Goddesse, others, some
Celestiall power descended from the skie,
Or else the soule of Menon that did come,
To beare his bones vp to the Deitie:
But what it was I know not, neither will
Presume to iudge of that is past my skill,
As being loath to climbe aboue my reach.
And therefore of the same ile speake no more,
But turne againe whereas I made a breach,
When of Vlisses life I spake before:
And tell you of his hard and fatall end,
When Atropas loath longer time to spend
In spinning of his threed of life, agreed
With Parchas fell her office l'execute,
Who having preordaind the same, with speed
Tooke out her sheares and it in sunder cut.
Defend thy selfe therefore Ulisses now,
Without all feare to shun the fatall blow,
Which by thy sons sharp sword thou shalt receaue.
For I am now prepard, and do intend
To sharpe my pen once more (before I leaue
My worke long since begun) to write thy end:
And with the same my Books full period make,
For that my hand with wearinesse doth shake.
But yet ere that I thereof make an end,
I must of force to make my Booke compleat,
A little longer time about thee spend,
And of thy fatall fate and death entreat:
Which vnto thee did happen by the dart
Of him whom thou didst loue with all thy hart.
But first I must desire the sleepy God,
(By Poets Morpheus cald, who by the might
And power supreame of his inchanting rod,
Doth rule mens minds and fansies in the night:
And makes men dreame & divers visions see,
Which many times prognostications bee,
And warnings vnto men of future good
Or ill, that vnto them shall after hap,
The which cannot be any way withstood,
For no man may Gods iust decree escape.)
To rule and guide my wit and pen as now,
That I to you Ulisses dreame may show.
The which he had not long before he dyed,
Wherewith by signes that true and certaine were,
He was forewarnd and fully certified,
His end by vnexpected death drew nere:
Who as he in his bed fast sleeping lay,
About the time when Cocks crow fore tis day;
He thought there did before him then appeare
A woman of so heavenly feature,
That she did show as she an Angell were,
And not to be an earthly creature:
Who was so faire and beautifull of face,
That she did seeme t'jlluminate the place
Wherein she was, and therewithall her eyes
Did shine as cleare and bright as any starre,
And able were t'intrap, and to surprise
Their hearts that lookt vpon her neere or farre:
And no defence against them could be made,
So exquisite a looke and face she had.
Whom when Ulisses did perceaue, he was
So much amaz'd to see her, that the more
He lookt on her he liked her, so as
He did fast sleeping lye, he sighed fore:
And (as he thought) put forth his hands to take
Her in his arms, but she frō him shruncke backe:
And still the more his eyes on her he cast,
The farther she from him did seeme to flie,
As if she would haue shund him, till at last
(When she perceiu'd his importunitie)
She spake to him, & askt him what he would
With her, and why he did her so behold.
In truth (said he) faire Lady I confesse,
That I am so much blinded in my sight,
That I cannot perceaue nor truely gesse
By outwards signes, if I should speake aright,
Whether that your shape divine or earthly be,
So excellent it seemeth vnto me.
But this I dare affrme and boldly say,
That at this time my life & death doth stand,
And are at your devotion, if I may
Craue so much grace & favor at your hand,
(Presuming not thereon by any right)
To pitty me that am your faithfull knight,
And so devoted vnto you, that sure
If I do not my mind as now fulfill,
And so much favour at your hands procure,
As this night for to grant me your good will
To lie with me, there is no remedie,
But for your sake of force I needs must die.
And thus twixt hope and feare I haue you told
My mind, (said he) wherewith she staid awhile,
And did him with a countnance sad behold;
Yet at the last vpon him gan to smile,
And said, the loue which you to me do beare,
Will be both our destructions I do feare,
It is so doubtfull and so dangerous,
That without doubt (belieue it certamly)
If we together take our pleasure thus,
One or else both of vs shall surely die,
For that the end thereof can be no other,
If we as you desire, should lie together.
Which said, Ulisses looking on her still,
And therewithall approaching somewhat neere
Vnto her, to behold her at his will,
(Who in his mind did shew so bright and cleare)
He saw that in her hand a speare she held,
Which on it had a flag, whereof the field
Was blew, and in the midst a Crowne of gold,
With fishes white environd round about,
Which while he did most earnestly behold,
She did begin to leaue him and go out
Whereas she was, but ere she left the place,
She staid a little while, and turnd her face
To him, and said, I tell you true and plaine,
That after this we never more shall see
One th'other, but for parting of vs twaine,
This greeting said, our last farewell shall bee:
And there withall her leaue of him she tooke,
Aud after that he sodainly awooke.
And did begin t'imagine curiously,
And muse vnto himselfe within his mind,
What that strange dreame he had might signifie.
But when he could the same by no means find,
(As being that he did not vnderstand)
He sent for all th'Inchanters in the Land,
And such as could the depth and meaning show,
Of dreames that vse to happen vnto men
When they do sleepe, that he of them might know
The exposition of his dreame. And when
They vnderstood the same, they did agree
All in one point, and told him plaine that hee
Should shortly be bereft of life by one
That neerest of his kindred was, and that
T'avoid it way nor meanes for him was none:
Which when he heard he woondred much thereat,
And did begin to looke with visage pale.
But when he saw it could him not preuaile,
To grieue, his head was fild with fantasies
And deepe conceits, t'imagine and to see
If he could find, or shape a remedie,
By any meanes to shun that would not bee:
But yet for all his policie and wit,
He could not reach vnto the depth of it.
For thinking that he would the same prevent,
De did suppose that no man but his son
Was he that should it do, and therefore sent
With all the speed he could for Thelamon,
And cast him into prison, so to shun
That which the Fates decreed should be dun.
Remembring not the speare with steeled head,
Nor yet the flag thereon with azure fild,
With fishes on't which in the seas do feed,
Nor Circes faire who in her hand it held:
(Which signifi'd nought but hostility,)
Nor yet the Crowne and regall dignity
Of one that raign'd within an Isle, that stands
In middest of the sea, that should be hee,
Who gainst his will should slay him with his hands,
And execute thereby the iust decree
Of God, the which Ulisses thought not on;
But onely did suspect Prince Thelaemon,
Whom he then held close prisner in a tower.
And to prevent all other meanes what s'ere,
He never ceast to muse thereon each hower:
And at the last grew thereof in such feare,
That he did cause a Castle to be made,
And built of Marble stone, the which he had
Devised in such sort, that there was none
Like vnto it in all the world throughout
For strength, and had no gates in it but one
To enter in the same, and round about,
A ditch most deepe and broad on every side,
Did compasse it. Wherein he did abide,
And closely kept himselfe from sight of all
The world, but those which on him did attend,
And ever held a watch vpon the wall,
Both day and night most strictly, to the end
That no man should so hardy be to venter,
Without his leaue into the same to enter,
Vnlesse it were those that therein did lie.
Now as the storie vnto vs doth tell,
Ulisses had a Sonne begotten by
Queene Circes, who in valor did excell
So much, that he was comp'rable to none
In all that land, whose name was Thelagon.
Borne in an jsle among the furious rage
Of foming seas that compast it about,
Who at that time attained had to th'age
Of twenty fiue yeares old: who stood in doubt
What man did him beget, or who should be
His father, whome he longed much to see.
And having great desire the same to know,
He fell before his mother on his knee,
And did intreat her earnestly to show
The truth to him, who might his father bee,
And what he was, & where he then did dwell:
But she long time by no meanes would it tell,
But put him off, and fed him with delay,
Till when she saw she could not be at rest
For him, that did torment her every day,
And would not cease till he had his request:
She shewd him that Vlisses was his sire,
And where he dwelt, who with most great desire
To see him, tooke his leaue of her with speed,
And told her that he straight frō thence would go:
But when the Queene perceau'd, he had decreed
To go to seeke Vlisses, and that no
Perswasion in the world could him withhold
From doing it, her heart it waxed cold,
And in her breast she felt exceeding paine.
And when she saw he would by no meanes stay,
She prayed him to come with speed againe
Home vnto her. And so the selfe same day
He put to sea, and saild so long, till he
He arriued where he did desire to be.
And when he was within Achaia land,
He never ceast to ride from place to place,
And rested not till he did vnderstand
Where king Vlisses royall Pallace was:
Which when he knew he made no more aboad,
But speedily vnto the Court he road.
Whereas the king within his Castle stayd,
And early on a Munday morning came
Vnto the gate and draw-bridge, where he prayd
The Porter, who at that time kept the fame,
To giue him leaue a word or two to speake
Vnto the king, who to him gaue a cheake,
And churlishly did thrust him from the gate▪
And proudly said he should not enter in,
And with some other speeches told him that
He must be gone: whereat he did begin
To be in such a rage, that there with all
He did vpon the Porter fiercely fall,
And furiously did take him by the beard,
And gaue him such a blow, that there with all
He fell dead on the bridge, which when they heard
That were within, they issued and did fall
On him, but he so hotely them withstood,
And fought with such a fierce & surious mood,
That many of them cleane ore the bridge he cast,
And when as more vpon him issued forth,
And on all sides began t'assaile him fast,
He did begin to be exceeding wroth,
And with his sword about him made such way,
That he therewith did fifteene of them slay.
And fought so long that he was out of breath,
And scarce could hold himselfe vpright, so that
Sore wounded he expected nought but death,
Wherewith Vlisses came vnto the gate:
And when vpon the bridge he did espie
His men on heaps dead on the same to lie;
Sore mou'd thereat, he tooke a dart in hand,
And there with all in furious wise did throw
At Thelagon, who then did leaning stand
Vpon his sword, but it did light too low,
And hurt him not at all: but Thelagon
Straight stooped down, & laying hands theron,
Did throw it at Vlisses in great hast,
And there with all did strike him such a blow
Into the breast, that through his ribs it past,
And gaue him his deaths wound: but did not know
That't was the king, nor that he so had slaine
His father deare, who then could not sustaine
Himselfe vpright, but to the ground did slide,
With pale and deadly face, and so he lay
Amongst his men that stood on either side,
And busie were to beare him thence away,
Supposing that he verily was dead:
But sodainly he lifted vp his head,
And having still a perfect memory,
He cald to mind the vision he did see,
And how that he was told assuredly,
That one of his ner'st kinsmen should be hee
That with a dart, of life should him bereaue,
And for because [...] could not well conceaue
Who it should be; He bad his men to bring
The young man that before the gate then stood
With speed to him, without once offering
To wrong him for so sheading of their blood.
And when that he was brought into the place
Whereas he lay, he look't him in the face:
And marking well his countenance, began
To aske him for what cause he did come thither,
And what occasion moved him as than
T'assaile his guard, that he and they together
Had fought, and he had slaine them so, whereby
Himselfe sore wounded was, and like to die.
To whom with courage bold he spake, and sayd,
The onely cause why I came hither was
To see the King, but by the Porter staid,
(Whom I entreated courteously to pas)
And churlishly put backe, with words most vile:
I seeing that he did me so revile,
Much grieued that he vsd me in that sort,
Did kill him with a blow on th'eare: which whan
The guard did see (that watch held in the fort,)
They issued, and together on me ran:
And I compeld to fight (though gainst my will)
In my defence, fifteene of them did kill.
Whereby I am thus wounded as you see,
And like to loose my life, as well as they
That sought (if that they could) t'haue killed me.
And this (if these here present truth will say)
The reason was we fought, and they were kild
By me, which when Ulisses heard, he wild
Him to declare where he was borne, and what
His Father was, and where he then did dwell?
Who answered the King, and told him that
He would the truth thereof vnto him tell:
And said, he was borne in an Isle that stood
Within the sea, of high and Princely blood,
And that he to his mother had a Queene
Cald Circes, who both f [...]r and n [...] was knowne,
And how he had his Father neuer [...]erio,
But said, that by his mother he was showne
That he was gotten by a king, who as
He did returne from Troy did chance to pas
Along that way, and as she told to me
(Said he) his name Vlisses was. Whom I
Did long, and such desire had to see.
That taking ship I set sayle presently,
And in short space I came into this land,
Where I was told and given to vnderstand,
That I should find my Father in this place;
But now I see my labour is in vaine,
And feare that I shall never see his face:
And therefore sith I haue tane so much paine,
And cannot vnto my desire attaine,
I will if that I liue returne againe
Into my natiue soylo, and seeke no more
With danger of my life, for that which I
So long to find: and yet it grieues me fore
T'haue tane such paines and cannot satisfie
My mind. This is all that I can you show
(Said he) of that which you desire to know.
Whereby Vlisses (sighing sore when as
He had heard him that answere to him make)
Perceiving he his Son by Circes was,
With griefe began to tremble and to quake.
And sheading store of blood out of his wound,
He fainted, and did full into a swound.
And with a countnance heavy, dead, and pale,
Said, now I see my woefull Destiny
Fulfilled is, for by this young mans [...]ale,
I know and find there is no remedy
For me, and that the time is now too l [...]e
To strine against my hard and cu [...]s [...] Fa [...]e.
For now my Son which here by me doth stand
Hath given me [...]y death, and made an end
Of his old Fathers life, and with his hand
Hath finishe that, whereto my dreame did tend.
Which words pronounst, young Thelagon began
With countnance sad, and face [...]oth pale & wan,
To sigh, when as he knew and vnderstood
That gainst the lawes of nature he had flame
His Father, and so fiercely shed his blood,
That him begot, and felt such grieuous paine
In heart, that he did presently sincke downe,
And fore them all did fall into a swone.
And comming to himselfe, when he had torne
His clothes, and puld his haire off from his head:
He said, alas, that ever I was borne,
That by my hands my Father should be dead.
Curst be my hard and woefull Destiny,
And fortune fell the which I could not flie.
Curst be the hand that hath been so impure,
Whereby this wicked deed by me is don.
Accurst be I of every creature,
Accursed be my constellation.
And cursed be and most vnfortunate
The hower wherein my father me begat.
Oh would to God for this vnhappy deed
T'excuse his death, I might for my reward
In presence of you all die in his steed,
And wholy of all comfort be debard:
And that men would me vtterly forsake.
But when the King such sorrow hard him make,
And knew he was his Son that Circes bore
By him in th'isle Aulides as be found
By many signes which he rehearst before,
He made him to be tane vp from the ground
Whereon he lay, and pardned him his death,
Being ready then to yeild his vitall breath,
And lying in so great extreamitie,
With speed did call for his Son Thelamon.
Who at that time in prison straight did lie;
Who presently when as he heard thereon▪
Vnto his Father went, and when he saw
That he began vnto his end to draw,
And by enquirie knew the truth, and found
That Thelagon who fore him there did stand
Was he that had given him his deadly wound,
With mighty rage he tooke his sword in hand:
And thought his brother Thelagon to kill,
But ere th [...] he of him could haue his will
Ulisses made his men to run and hold
His hand, and then for all the paine he had,
He cald his Sons and told them that he would
Haue them t'agree, and to be friends▪ & made
Them gra [...] and promise to be so, which [...]on
He did expresly charge Prince Thelamon,
That he without dissimulation
Should loue, and in most friendly manner liue
(While vitall breath did last) with Thelagon
His brother, and to him the halfe should giue
Of all his goods, as heire by true discent
To him, whereto he freely did consent,
And neuer from his Fathers will did varry.
Which said, his men a Chariot did provide,
And did him to his chiefest Citie carry,
Where afterward within three daies he dide.
Whose body was interred by hie Sonne,
Within a costly Tombe of Marble stone.
And after that they Crowned Thelamon
And made him King with great solemnity,
With whom a whole yeare after Thelagon
His brother staid, to whom most lovingly,
And kindly, he nere any thing denide.
And when he would n [...] [...] there abide,
He dubd him Knight, and after did prepare
A ship, and gold for him, (whereof he had
Great store,) wherewith he did againe repaire
Home to Aulides Isle, and thereby made
His mother Circes heart exceeding glad,
That had for his long absence been full sad.
For she by Negromancian Art could tell
That he through many dangers great had past,
And scapt them all. And after that, she fell
Into an extreame sickenes, and at last
Well stricken in yeares she died, (as all men must
When as their time is come.) For God most just
Hath death ordaind for every living thing.
Who having vnto nature paid her debt:
Prince Thelagon her Son was Crowned King
Of Aulides, whereas with honor great
He did his Crowne & Kingdome long maintaine,
And threescore yeares full cōpleat ther did raigne.
While Thelamon liu'd in Achaia land,
And thereof held the Scepter and the Crowne
For seaventy yeares together in his hand,
Till from his throne death proudly puld him down
Vnto the ground, and with his piercing dart▪
In cruell wise did strike him to the hart.
This shall suffiice to let you see and know,
Th'adventures of the Greeks by sea and land
When they returnd from Troy, and for to show
That whatsoeuer man doth take in hand,
The issue doth vpon Gods will depend,
For he tis giues an ill or happy end.
Which is well proved by this Historie,
Wherein you see, that though the Greeks did win▪
And had a most triumphant victorie
Against the Troians and their Towne; wherein
They did obtaine that which they did desire,
Which was their wil [...] and t'honor to aspire:
Yet cause the warre which they with Troy began
Was done of pride, and in an envious vaine
Without just cause, they rather lost then wan.
For that vpon their side more men were slaine
Then on the Troians part, (for all they lost
Their towne) so that they had no cause to boast.
Considering that besides their losse fore Troy,
When they were into Greece returnd, most part
Of them that liu'd, did not long time enioy
Their victorie, for that with envious heart
Each th'other did destroy, and sought to kill
By trecherie, the Proverbe to fulfill,
(That blood with blood alwaies reveng'd will be)
Troyes fall doth teach all Princes to take heed,
When as they liue in great prosperitie,
Not to be too secure, least that they speed
As Priam did, who would not be content
When he did liue in peace, (but t'envie bent)
Old quarrels with his Grecian foes renew'd,
Supposing that's his wealth and power great
He could do what he list. But what ensu'd
Thereof, the storie plainelie downe doth set:
Which saith, that he therby wrought's owne decay,
To shew that man hath here no certaine stay.
THus haue you heard as much as I can tell,
Of all the Troian warre as it's set downe,
By Dares Frigius who therein did dwell,
And wrote the storie thereof in the Towne,
And every day a view thereof did take,
Who of this same an end herewith doth make.
With whom the Grecian Ditus doth agree,
And in like sort his Historie doth end,
Twixt whom in truth no difference I can see,
For both their works vnto one purpose tend:
Which is the true proceedings to expresse
Of that whereof they were eie witnesses.
Though not in verball forme, yet in effect
And meaning both alike, and true they are.
Which is the thing men chiefely should respect.
But that the Grecian Ditus doth declare,
And saith, that while the siege did there remaine,
The number of the Greeks that there was slaine
Amounted to eight hundred thousand men.
And of the Troiaus side as Dares shoe▪
Six hundred thousand seaventy and sixteene
Then lost their liues, mōg whom are reckned those
That to the Towne from other countries came,
And there were kild by ayding of the same.
For that of hundred thousands that did aid
King Priam, and of diuers countries were
It is not found, (as it before is sayd,
Though they behaud thēselues most brauely there,
So many of them in that warre was slaine,)
That there did go fiue hundred home againe.
And both of them in this point do agree,
That full ten yeares, six moneths, & 12. daies more
The siege did last, with great hostilitie
And losse of men on either side, before
The Greeks for all that ever they could do,
Could win the towne o [...] enter thereinto.
Till Synon by his craft did it betray,
As it at large declared is before,
And further of the same I cannot say,
Because mine Authors thereof say no more.
And for to adde more then they write thereto,
Were in me great presump'ion so to do.
The time when I this worke had fully don
By computation just, was in the yeare
One thousand & foure hundred twenty one
Of Iesus Christ our Lord & Saviour deare.
And in the Eight yeare compleat of the raigne
Of our most noble Lord and Soveraigne
King Henrie the fift, who in despight
Of all his foes, Brutes Albion doth maintaine
In honor great, for by his puissant might
He conquered all Normandie againe.
And valiantly for all the power of France,
Hath won from them his owne inheritance.
And forced them his title to renew
To all the Realme of France, (which doth belong
To him and to his lawfull heires, by true
Discent, the which they held from him by wrong
And false pretence,) and to confirme the same▪
Haue given him the honor and the name
Of Regent of the Land for Charles his life,
And after his decease they haue agreed
(Thereby to end all bloody warre and strife)
That he as heire shall lawfully succeed▪
Therein, and raigne as King of France by right,
As by records which extant are to light,
It doth appeare. And then I hope we shall
Enioy againe the time so prosperous
And fortunate, the which men vse to call
The good and golden world, and that to vs
God will afford his blessing and his grace,
That Mars no more our countrey shall me [...]ce.
Nor with his countnance furious and wood,
Moue war and strife between these countries twaine
Nor be the cause of sheading of their blood,
Whereof till now they both may well complaine:
And that our noble King will so provide
By wisedome and by power, that either side
Shall liue in peace and henchforth so agree,
That both the realmes of England, and of France,
By one Prince ruld, shall seeme all one to bee,
And ever more liue without variance:
And from their hearts all hate and malice chase,
By th'influence of Gods most mighty grace;
And heavenly power which ruleth every thing,
And who by his great providence divine,
Hath such an alliance made betweene our King
And France, by marying Lady Katherine
The French Kings daughter, that we hope it shall
Procure vs peace and joy perpetuall.
And that the Royall issue of them twaine,
(Will be a meane and way without all feare)
That England shall for evermore obtaine
The sole command of those two Realmes, & weare
Their Diadems imperiall both together,
And that the faire Queene Katherines cōming hi­ther
Will nourish so great loue and vnitie
On both sides, that we never shall haue need
Nor cause to feare nor feele adversitie;
And that it will be th'only meanes to breed
Our honor, joy, and great prosperitie,
Wealth, pleasure, peace, and all felicitie,
And driue away all mischiefe whatsoere
Out of this Land. So that with heart & thought
We shall haue cause with voices lowd and cleare
To pray for her that hath it to vs brought:
And him that by his valor great and might,
Hath shew'd himselfe so puissant a Knight,
That he hath won, and cleerely doth possesse
All that to him belongs, and now it's set
Accompanied with his faire Emperesse,
Victoriously with praise and honor great,
In his most Royall throne: to whom God giue
As long as he vpon the earth shall liue,
(And doth enioy the full fruition
Of all that vnto him belongs of right,
And holds the same in his subiection,)
Encrease of comfort, pleasure, and delight:
And t'send him home with triumph & with honor
As great as ere had any Conqueror.
And long time after grant him to possesse
His kingdomes, and his Regall Dignitie,
(With his faire Queene) in joy and quietnes,
If possible it were perpetuallie:
And I will never cease both night and day,
Withall my heart vnto the Lord to pray
For him, by whose commandement I tooke
On me (though farre vnfit to do the same)
To translate into English verse, this Booke,
Which Guido wrote in Latin, and doth name
The siege of Troy, and for his sake alone
I must confesse that I the same begon,
When Henrie whom men fourth by name did call,
(My Princes Father) lived and possest
The Crowne. And though I be but rusticall,
I haue therein not spard to do my best
To please my Princes humor. Though
A thing that I should not haue tane on me,
(Which am a Monke by my profession
In Berry, cald Iohn Lidgate by my name,
And weare a habit of perfection:
Although my life agrees not with the same)
That meddle should with things spirituall,
As I must needes confesse vnto you all.
But seing that I did therein proceed,
At his command whom I could not refuse,
I humbly do beseech all those that reade,
Or leysor haue this story to pervse,
If any fault therein they find to bee,
Or error that committed is by mee▪
That they will of their gentlenes take paine▪
The rather to correct and mend the same,
Then rashly to condemne it with disdaine.
For well [...]vot it is not without blame,
Because I know the verse therein is wrong,
As being some too short and some too long▪
For if with faults men should not sometime beare,
But all for some seeme wholy to refuse,
Then must I say in vaine my labor were.
Let ignorance and rudenes me excuse:
For though my verse for harshnes you reiect,
Yet if you to the some haue good respect,
I doubt not but that you therein shall find,
That all the substance of the matter is
Set downe that Guydo wrote, to please your mind.
And if that any word be plast amis,
I pray you mend the same in curtesie:
For to condemne an error vtterly,
Which is not made nor done with bad intent,
No commendation to him that's wise:
For no man vnto scoffing more is bent
Behind mens backs, nor sooner will surmise
A lie, then he that hath no wit at all,
He treadeth sure that neuer hath a fall.
I oft haue read in Authors new and old,
Which write of mens behaviors good and ill,
That no man is more foolish and more bold,
Then he that is an Idiot without skill.
For that blind Bayard feares nothing at all
Till in a ditch he sodainlie doth fall.
And none so ready is to prate and prattle,
Nor sooner will condemne a man then he.
But for all those that vse such tittle tattle,
I care not what they say or speake of me:
For I do not to them direct my Booke,
But vnto such as with a sincere looke
Pervse the same, and with mens falts do beare,
And can amend an error without blame
To him that writes, and tell not what they heare
To hinder or impeach a mans good name:
But vsed are to speake well of their friend,
Whereto all honest men their wits should bend.
For Chawcer that my master was, and knew
What did belong to writing verse or prose,
Nere stumbled at small faults, nor yet did view
With scornefull eie the works and Bookes of those
That in his time did write, nor yet would taunt
At any man, to feare him or to daunt
His courage in that kind of exercise:
But rather vse their weaknes to support,
And as he was well learned and very wise,
And able to instruct and to exhort
Such as did use to write, would winke and smile
At faults, and yet say nothing all the while▪
So that if to describe him I should striue,
I must needs say (vnlesse from truth I varry)
That never any man as yet did liue
Vntill this day, that worthy was to carry
His inckhorne in respect of Poetrie.
But if within this Land or Realme there be
Such men as able be his steps to trace;
To them it is that I direct my Booke,
And wholy to their skills referre my case,
With their judiciall eies thereon to looke:
Beseeching them to mend what is amis,
And t'adde, or to diminish all that is
Super [...]uous, or else wanting. And although
They find therein no phrases that are new,
Nor Eloquence (as they suppose) enough,
Yet I do hope that they shall find all true
In substance as mine Author wrote the same,
Wherein I know I shall incurre no blame.
ANd he that list and doth desire to see
The wavering state and infelicity
Of ages past, may here instructed be,
And find how Fortunes mutability
Hath alwaies been so great, that no man could
Put trust in her. And therewithall behold▪
How Princes cleane bereft of Royalty,
Were sodainely brought into great distresse.
And Kings redu'st to such extremity,
That poverty and want did them oppresse.
Great slaughters made in kingdomes enviously.
Murthers committed by conspiracie.
False treason, secret ambushes, despight,
Subversion of whole kingdomes sodainely,
The ravishing of women for delight,
The root of warre and great hostility.
Maintaining of most fowle adulterie,
Which caused many Princes great to die.
To shew thereby that since the cause of all
Such wickednes receiues reward most iust,
Which sodainely vpon mankind doth fall,
For that in worldly ioyes there is no trust.
And in this Booke examples you shall find,
If you consider well thereof in mind,
How every man must vnto nature yeild,
When time doth serue, both young and old of age,
And wither like the grasse within the field,
For here our life is but a Pilgrimage
Repleat with sorrow, miserie, and woe,
Which if men mark't & tooke good heed therto
And wisely would consider of their end,
They would esteeme all pleasure but a toy,
And no more time therein so vainely spend,
Nor take so much delight in worldly joy.
For by Troyes fall it plainely doth appeare,
That neither King nor Emperor hath here▪
A permanent estate to trust vnto.
Therefore to him that died vpon the rood,
(And was content and willing so to do,
And for man-kind did shead his precious blood,)
Lift vp your minds and pray with humble [...]
That he his aid vnto you will impart.
For though you be of extreame force and might,
Without his helpe it will you nought availe,
For he doth giue man victorie in fight:
And with a few is able to prevaile,
And overcome an armie huge and strong,
And by his grace makes kings and Princes long
To raigne here on the earth in happinesse,
And Tyrants that to men do offer wrong
And violence, doth sodainly suppresse,
Although their power be nere so great & strong▪
And in his hand his blessings all reserveth,
For to reward each one as he deserueth.
To whom I pray with humble mind and hart,
(And so I hope all you wil doe no lesse)
That of his grace he would vouchsafe t'impart,
And send all joy, wel fare, and happines,
Health, victory, tranquilitie, and honor,
Vnto the high and mightie coqueror
King Henrie the Fift, (that his great name
May here on earth [...]'extold and magnified
While life doth last, and when he yeilds the same
Into his hands, he may be glorified
In heaven among the Saints & Angels bright,
Therein to serue the God of power & might.)
At whose request this worke I vndertooke
As I haue sayd. And now that I haue don,
And with great labour finished my Booke,
I doe intreat all those that looke thereon
T'accept thereof, and tak't in as good part,
As I it send to them withall my hart.
FINIS.
[...]
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