University of Virginia Library

The Argument.

The second Rhapsody, call'd Beta,
Of Agamemnons dream doth treat a;
Tell's the proceedings oth' Court-leet,
And numbereth the Græcian Fleet.

The Gods that night did sleepe and snort all,
And so did many a daring mortall,
Wearing on's head a payr of locks
Made of the spoyles of young colts docks,
Onely except Jove from that number,
Who then, did neither sleep nor slumber.
Not (as some write) perplex'd with fleas,
But cares, he could not take his ease;
For he resolv'd (since he had said it)
That he would stout Achilles credit,
Though by the death of honest fellows
To be slaine 'mongst the Greeke Gondelo's:
Whilst this, all night, his mind was busie on,
He thought it best to send a Vision
To great Atrides his pavilion,
Which he had pitched before Ilion;
Then, having call'd one to him, the sage
Jove sent him with this hasty message;

Be gone, dispatch, false shape, toth' place,
Where th' Greeks intrench, with speedy pace,
There goe toth' tent of Agamemnon,
Whilst within hearing is, but him, none,
And, faithfully, in words at large,
Tell him what now I give in charge;
Bid him, soone as he may, fall to't,
And arme his men, both horse and foot,
Bid him be sure arme all his ragged
Regiment, of Greeks, whose haire's shagged,
Every man with a trusty blade,
From th' Generall to th' Lanspresade,
For now at last, his war-like feet
This day shall tread in Troy's broad-street,
The Gods will stand no longer doubting,
But yeeld the Trojans to his routing,
And, woe be to them, for by Juno's
Pray'rs, they are like t'have many a blew nose:

As soon as he said this, the dreame
Tooke swifter flight then boats with stream,
And almost e're one could have cry'd
What's this? came where the Greek ships ride:
As for Atrides, without rapping
At's door, he came and caught him napping,
His sleep, with odors, not like amber,
Backwards, and forwards, fill'd the chamber:
He came and peeped o're the tester
Ofs bed, ith' shape of gaffer Nestor;
Whom he lov'd most of all the Aldermen,
Yet among them there were some balder men,
Though not perhaps so old; his visage
The vision bore, and th' markes of his age.

Then said, sleep'st thou so sound Atrides?
Thy sire, old Atreus, would have ply'd his
Stumps had he been as thee, his soule
God rest, and happy man be's dole;
When he dy'd we lost a stout warrier,
And, though I say't, a skilfull farrier,
Neighbour, you ought more to regard
The publick, then while watch and ward
Should be kept by you, to lye sleeping;
You have, committed to your keeping,
The publick peace; who shall now catch,
While you sleep here, rogues on the watch?
Come, marke my councell, for 'tis Jupiter's,
That loves thee, as the dee'l lov'd Hugh Peters,
And, when thou little think'st on't, cares
For th' management of thy affaires,
He bids thee without further stops,
Arme th' Greekes, with heads like whiting, mops;
See that you all your forces rally,
The Gods will now no longer dally,
But yeild up Troy, with her fair high wayes,
Therefore make great haste, and goe thy wayes
About it, Juno now prevailes,
Therefore woe to the Trojans tayles,
Take heed you don't forget ere day
(As you use) what o're night I say,
I hope you went not drunk to bed,

This when the cheating dreame had sayd
He left him musing, like an Asse,
On what should never come to passe;
He leap'd in's very sleep for joy,
And dream'd of nought but taking Troy,
His conquest now seem'd within viewing,
But he thought not what Jove was brewing,
For he intended, by next light,
To make both parties rue their fight:
He wak'd and saw his dreame as plaine
As if 't had stood by him againe,
Where e're he turn'd, he thought he heard
The voyce come from Nestor's bush-beard,
When he had sate upright, and scratch'd
His bum a while, in hast he catch'd
His coat, t'was soft made of bucks leather,
Thick enough against wind and wether,
Then did he's plad on's shoulders d'on,
And buckled too his clouted shoon;
Then, thrusting through his belt his elbow,
He hung by 's side his blade of Bilbo,
And next, he took a crab-tree-cudgell,
With which his father us'd to trudge well
From towne to towne, this did he cary
With him still, as hereditary,
Thus walk'd he to the boats accoutr'd,
Gladnesse within, and these armes outward.

By this Aurora had giv'n warning
To Jove, and th' rest, that it was morning,
For she's the chamber-maid, and, early
Each morning, calls up those that there lye.
When Agamemnon sent the bell-men
To exercise their throats, and tell men
His will, of which the whole purport
Was that they all should meet at Court;
They came in haste togeth'r, and then at
Old Nestor's barge sate the grave Senate,
Otherwise call'd the Common-counsell,
Jolly old men that weare fur gownes well
When these were met, and when they all at
Him star'd, He thus 'gan, like a ballad,
(Producing a contrivance, full.
Of subtilty, from his thick scull)

Good people, friends, and masters, list ye,
There did appeare to me, this misty
Night, a strange Ghost, that made me tremble,
You, Nestor, it did much resemble;
Your shape, your fat guts, and your gesture,
And made this speech from my beds tester.
Can'st thou sleepe, or securely bide here,
Thou fon of Atreus the horse-rider?
Tis not fit that one in whose trust is
The peace-keeping, next to the Justice,
And Proclamations in his head,
Should lye so like a thing quite dead,
Except for snoring, like a carkasse,
For shame rise, be not such a starke Asse,
You well may credi't what I presage,
And pray obey't, for 'tis Joves message;
Who, though his house from your's be far off,
Cares for you more then you'r aware of,
He counsels you to cloath in mayle
All your men, tag, rag, and long tayle,
And arme each shaggy pate in hel met,
For now your pray'rs the gods have well met,
And they no longer will delay,
But bring you into Troyes broad way,
For Juno's pray'rs have turn'd the mind
Oth' gods, and mischiefe hang's ith' wind
O're Troy town, when from you sleep's banish'd
Forget not: and away he vanish'd.
Thus, when the dream had me forsooke,
I yawn'd a little, and then woke;
Therefore let's forthwith put in armour,
As well as we can, each Greeke farmer;
One thing by th' way I have projected,
To try how they all stand affected;
To retreat home I'le them perswade,
To try of what mettle they're made,
But say each of you the Contrary,
And give them your advice to tary.

Atrides thus said, and sate down,
Then Nestor rose up in's furr gown,
An officer in sandy Pylus,
Which parish from that place three mile was,
Who in this speech laid forth his will,
According to his Simple skill.

Friends, whom the town doth not exclude hence,
'Cause you are stout, and of great prudence:
Who for each purpose cary staves,
To keep the peace, and knock down Knaves
Had any meane man told this story
About a dreame, I'd have been for ye,
And counsel'd you forthwith to pack
To Græcia, bag and baggage, back,
Thinking he ly'd, but now since, 'tis he on
Whom we depend that saw this vision,
Therefore forthwith let lowd alar'mes
Warne the Greeks to stand to their Armes.

This was old Nestor's speech, which yet he
Had hardly finish'd, when the petty
Constables, with their Staves and Maces,
Rise all together from their places,
As going forth, with resolution
To put his will in execution,
By this the rable rout was coming
To court apace, and made a humming
For all the world like swarmes of Bees,
That use to live in hollow trees,
Which all day long busi'd about
Their work, are going in and out,
And up and downe fly in a cluster
From flow'r to flow'r, so the Greeks muster,
And come in throngs along the shore,
Whose very sands were scarcely more,
For Jove for fear they should not all
Have notice, bid Fame sound a call,
Which shee did with her shining trumpet;
Th' earth seem'd to groan they did so thump it
Before they were all plac'd, there was
Amongst them a confused buze;
In country churches such confusion
I oft have heard, when tow'rds conclusion
The priest hath drawne his tedious prayers,
Some runing downe the belfry stayres,
Some more devout clownes, partly guessing
When he's almost come to the blessing,
Prepare their staves, and rise at once,
Say'ng Amen, off their mary bones,
Nine Cri'rs together that were then bound
T' attend the Court, on payn of ten pound
Proclaimed silence, and did make
O yes, before Atrides spake,
Then every one in hast caught roome
Where he could find place for his Bum,
All hush't, Atrides up did stand,
Holding his gilt-Staff in his Hand,
A Staff which all the rest for bulk, and
Faire shape excell'd, first made by Vulcan,
And giv'n to Jove the Sun of Saturne,
When he as Constable serv'd a turne,
Jove makes use on't, and when his terme is
Expir'd, leaves it to nimble Hermes;
Hermes resign'd his mighty Mace
To Carter Pelops with his place;
Pelops gav't Atreus his succeeder,
He to Thyestes the sheep feeder,
And after Rich Thyestes dy'd, his
Constables Staff he left Atrides,
With which he govern'd many an Iland,
And rul'd his ward, by Sea, and by Land,
On this he leane's, and twist's about
His Leg, and streight these words fly out:

My friends, and stout Greeks that wear Mars his
Buff livery upon your A---
This damn'd Saturnius hath betray'd me;
He ow'd m' a shame, and now hath pay'd me,
He promis'd me, when I had ta'ne
Troy Town, I should come home again,
But now I see too plain, god's dud's
He leaves me basely in the suds,
He chargeth us to face about,
Now we've receiv'd a gen'ral rout,
These are his tricks, h' hath shewn his pow'r
Oft in the fall of many a Tower,
And yet hee'l batter many a wall,
In spight of any of us all,
The children, yet unborne, here after
At us shall stretch their sides with laughter,
If ever they should chance to heare on't
That we return'd without our errant,
That we staid eight years and a half
Before Troy Town, as Waltam's Calfe
Went nine miles once to suck a Bull,
We shall b' as wise as he was full;
And yet, for ought as I can se,
Of this war no end's like to be:
Though we should make peace with the Trojans
And with them take up Friendly lodgings,
And if we should divide our men
In companies, by ten, and ten,
And every ten should take a Denizon
Of Troy, to fill him wine to 's Venison;
I doubt me many a tenne would lack
A man for them to fill out sack,
So far our numb'r, in my account,
The Trojan Citizens surmount,
But, besides these, th' auxiliary's
Do vex me most, mongst whom each carries
A long speare, but for these, this burrough
Had long since been by us run thorough,
But now, nine years are pass'd and gone,
As for ship-timber, we have none,
And, for our use we are scarce able,
Th' are so decay'd, to straine a cable,
And god Knowes whats done by our wives
The while we here venter our lives,
Whilst here our businesse lies undone,
Each of us hath an unknown Sonne,
Some perhaps more, who do expect us,
And if we come not, may neglect us,
Therefore, hark all to what I say,
To morrow wee'l cry westward hay,
And hoise up for our native soyle,
Leaving this endlesse, fruitlesse toyle;
We 'l, as we can, our own enjoy,
Since here's no hopes of taking Troy.
When this was say'd, the sooth to tell ye
Each mans heart hop'd within his bellie,
Among the throng, but theirs did not
Which knew before hand of his plot;

With this speech each mind homeward bent he,
And, nemine contradicente,
They cry'd like mad men, hay for our town,
Just as th' Icarian waves do pow'r down
Their fome oth' shore, when ever the sterne
Eurus disturbs them with his Easterne
Blasts, or when Notus roaring loud,
Rusheth upon them from a cloud,
Or as fierce Zephyrus doth grumble
In corne fields, making each stalke humble
His weighty head; this speech inclin'd
Just so, to a retreat each mind,
They ran, and flourish'd their Caps or'e 'em,
Beating along the dust before 'em,
They lancht their Boats out in all hast,
Each lent a Hand, and cry'd havast;
And when into the Sea they 'd got 'em,
Each gan to cleanse his leaking bottom;
After this, twerling round their Mops
To dry 'em, they took in their props,
Then, as they anchor weigh'd, their cries
And joyful hooting pierc'd the Skies;
And reach'd the Ears of great Joves dame,
Th' had gone else as wise as they came,
She heard it, as she sate by Pallas,
And cry'd, out on a suddain, alas!
What means this hooping great Joves Daughter
Untamed yet? what is the matter?
We 'l never let the Græcian Scullers
March homewards thus with folded colours,
Ne're shall they back grim Neptunes billows,
Insteed of Laurels, bearing Willow's,
Ne're shall they stir thence, till they take
Troy Town, and Helen, for whose sake
Many bold Greeks lye, many a mile
In cold clay, from their native soyle,
To the Greek Red coats haste therefore
With faire words keep 'em still a shore,
Let them not draw down to the water
Their barges, after all this slaughter.

This when she said, her wall-ey'd maid
Made no more bones on't, but obey'd,
She drop't from th' welkin down, as quick
As a Kite striking at a Chick,
And, in the turning of a hand,
Among the Græcian ships did stand,
And there, according to her wishes,
Neer his own boat she found Ulisses,
In cunning æqual unto Jove,
He had not put a hand to shove
His Boat off shore, but there he stood,
Stamping, and vex'd as he were wood,
Minerva, standing by his side,
Unto him thus her self apply'd,

Laertes's bold and wily Son,
Will all the Greeks thus homeward run?
They tumbl' as if they could afford
To break their necks to get aboard,
Will you thus simply run away,
And leave old Priamus the day?
Will you leave here behind the wench,
For whose sake, on the Græcian trench,
And before I'lium's cursed walls,
Have been caus'd many stout mens falls?
Which, god knows how far off, lye dead
From th' parish where th' were borne and bred,
Make haste for shame, make noe demurre,
Goe to 'em, and let noe man stirre,
With your fair words you may perswade 'em,
Let them not lanch their boates, nor lade 'em,

Ulisses knew the wench by'r tone,
For she had still a bauling one,
He, entertaining a great trouble at
Th' intended voyage, doff't his doublet,
And bid a neighbour of his beare it,
The weather was too hot to weare it,
Thus, vex'd that's Comrades were so unstable,
He met Atrides the high Constable,
To whom, at large, with sorrow, showing
The thing about which he was going,
That he might have what to shew for it, he
Borrow'd the Staff of his Authoritie,
Which yet was sound wood, though 'twer bore
By many a Constable before,
With which be'ng arm'd, he walk'd a round
The Red-coats quarters, if he found
There any of the better sort,
Them with this speech he gan to Court,

Sir, you should not Faint-heart resemble,
And at the enemy's sight tremble,
You should your self, and others order,
Be n't in such hast to go aboard, ere
You know what is Atrides mind,
Perhaps he hath done this to find
How mens affections are bent,
And, I believe, 'tis his intent
To punish, as he finds occasion,
According to this proof, each lazy one,
Tis' not yet cleare what he doth drive at;
All know not what he sayd in private;
Therefore, good Sir, provoke him not,
His anger's fire when once 'tis hot,
None of us all dares him abide,
As long as Ioue is on his side:

But if he met a common soldier,
Or heard him hoot, a thwart the shoulder,
He hit him, with's staff of command,
Downe to the ground, then bid him stand,

Say'ng: sirrah, weele provide you fetters
If you can't be rul'd by your betters,
Thou dastard, sneaking rogue thou be'st
Scarce worthy to have roome ith list,
What good hast thou ere done but mutiny?
Thou can'st nor plot nor execute any,
Let's not be masters all, I pray,
Tw'er better one should beare the sway,
Who hath from Ioue receiv'd comission,
In rule, pray, let's have noe partition;

Thus, whomsoever he could find
In all his walke, he disciplin'd,
Some, with intreates, and some, with menaces,
He brought back from thier tents and pinaces,
To court again, with such a roaring
As when the waves doe make the shore ring,
Which noyse is echo'd back again
By others, further in the maine;

The rest were all quietly fate,
Onely Thersites 'gan to prate,
Against his officers, this beast,
In lavender still had a jest,
And what e're he thought would moue laughter
He'd out with't, what ere would come after,
No Greek was ugly'er, yet this fowle
Rafscalion thought himself a droll;
He limp'd, and look'd nine way's at once,
Distorted were his shoulder bones,
His head, from's forehead to his crowne top,
Resembled much a revers'd towne-top,
His beard right China, and as thin
The haire of's head was, as of's chin,
This scurvy rascalls humor still is
To jeere Ulysses, and Achilles,
He was a lover of scurrility,
But foe to these, and all civility:
He then began thus to deride his
Prudent commander, great Atrides,
On whom all look'd with indignation,
'Cause he had fool'd their expectation,
'Gainst him he made this speech, ith' middle
Oth' Greeks, like squeaking string of fiddle,

What's the news, with you now? what want you
Atrides, with a vengeance? han't you
Of Gold and Silver more then one tent?
And the choice Girles? yet y' are not content,
All th' captive Wenches, that are under
Thirty years, you choose out oth' plunder,
If any Trojan comes to ransome
His son, and with him brings a Grand summe
If we demand it, they'l contemne one
Of us, and ask for Agamemnon,
And then besides, if that could quiet y'e,
Of private tumblers y' have variety,
It is not right that he who is chief
'Mongst us, should lead us into mischiefe,
And after many an error, and turne,
Bring us through Bry'rs, like Jack a Lantern
Faint hearted Greeks, rather Greek Wenches,
Shame to our Camp, and to these Benches,
Come home again, our markets done,
Let's leave this Tyrant here alone,
That in Greece he may ne're enjoy
Our goods, but spend them here in Troy,
Let him know, maugre his commands,
We may have th' law in our own hands,
He keeps Achilles's wench per force,
Though then himself he can't be worse,
For that good man then made it plain
How much he could himself contain,
Had he not then his passion curb'd,
Thou should'st have us no more disturb'd,

Ulisses heard Thersites chide his
Commander thus, the bold Atrides,
Starting up, sternly he began, ere
Th' other had quite done, in this manner,

Thou prating Jackanapes, Thersites,
What ere thou say'st ou't of meer spight is,
Those that came with us hither ask all,
There's not amongst 'em such a rascal,
Dar'st thou against the high Constable
Ith' open court on this wise babble?
Hold your peace, make your foul mouth clean
Before his name come there again,
You must, forsooth, against him raile,
And be enquiring when he'l sail,
Before there's any of's that know
How th' matters of this siege will goe,
How we shall come off none knows truly,
Whether with victory or blewly,
What reason is't you should condemne one,
As here you doe great Agamemnon,
And basely cast into his teeth
Those things the Greeks honour'd him with?
One thing I'le tell thee too to boote,
And, as God judge me, I'le stand to't,
Sirrah, if ever I catch you more
Abusing folkes in this mad humor,
May my head off my shoulders fall,
And let my little boy ne're call
Me his owne father, but some other
That has been dealing with his mother,
If I don't of thy Jerkin strip thee,
And thy red waste-coat, and then whip thee,
I faith I'le pluck thy breeches downe,
Some Market day, and through the towne,
I'le drive thee, whining with a carters
Long, knotted whip, to thy owne quarters;

This when he ended, ore's bunch back
He tooke him a confounded thwack;
The cur duck'd down his head, and whin'd,
As howling mongrils, when they find
They'r warned too late by the bell
Oth' whips approach, from's bleare eyes fell,
'Tis hard to say wheth'r rhume, or teare,
Perhaps 'twas rhume, which still flow'd there,
And on's crook-back there rose a new
Great bunch, of color black and blew,
Rais'd by the crab-tree-cudgel's knobs,
He sits him downe, and sighs, and sobs,
Making foule faces, and's wet eyes,
And snotty nose, on's sleeve he dryes,
He durst not speake, he was so fear'd,
But grin'd, and pull'd the haire off's beard,
The Græcians, though th' had scarce done chafing,
At that sight could not forbear laughing,
He look'd so like a baboon, vex't
Then said one to him that stood next,

O Gemony! neighbour, what a blisse is
This, that we have 'mongst us Ulisses?
Good he doth practice, and impart,
And now (God's blessing on his heart)
H'has tane a course, into this idle
Rogues sland'rous mouth to put a bridle,
It seems he'l pluck downe his proud stomack,
Or he's resolv'd to make his bum ake,
Against his betters now I'le warrant
He'll not rayle, h'had best have a care on't,

Thus talk'd the vulgar, when Ulisses,
Who to storme hen-roosts seldome misses,
Rose up, and there stood by his side
Pallas, a wench that was wall-ey'd,
In cryers clothes, she cry'd, O yes,
And bid the people hold their peace,
That the grave speech might reach the eare
Of him that stood far off, and neare,
When all were quiet, spake Ulisses,
With staffe in hand, and his speech this is

Atrides, all the Greeks contrive
To make thee th' very'st foole alive,
Of all their promises they faile,
Which they made when they hoys'd up sayle
From Argos, that, till Troy was taken,
By them you ne're should be forsaken,
Your regiment of Græcian yeomen
Do cry like children, or old women,
Some two or three meet in a hole
Together, their state to condole,
Yet none of them knowes what they lack,
Unlesse they'd be brought home pick pack,
And on my word it is a hard case,
Now after many a Greek's turn'd carkasse,
And all have undergone turmoyle,
For going home to quit the spoyle,
Yet I can't blame 'em, I confesse
I thinke my selfe should do no lesse,
'Tis sad to be kept back by tempest,
(For any one that doth love them best)
From's wife and children; said I sad?
Nay, faith, 'twould make a man horne mad,
Now almost nine yeares are past, since
We came, we'r almost in our teens,
Therefore no fault with any neighbour,
I'le find, since so much trouble they bore,
Let loosers speak, 'tis an affliction,
But yet, my friends, since honor pricks ye on,
Beare a good heart with your hard fare, and
Let's ne're bring home a sleevelesse errand,
Besides, among us there's a talke, as
If we were cheated here by Calchas,
Therefore let's stay till we have try'd him,
And then a heavy death betide him,
And if, at their time, all his prophesies
Don't come to passe, then quit your offices:
All (but a brother, or so, whose soule is,
I hope, at rest) know that in Aulis,
When Greeks, with barges that did them bear
Made rendezvous, you may remember
That by a well in a back side,
From whence in troughs did water glide
Into the house, for th' use o'th' kitchin,
We kill'd (and Calchas, good at witching,
Was then in place) a lusty steere,
God blesse the marke, in that place where
A streight, wide-spreading sycamore
Grew, nigh the well I nam'd before;
There then appear'd a cruell dragon,
His neck look'd as if't had red shagge on,
By Jupiter's will so't befell,
He crept from under th' lid o'th' well,
There, up the sycamore, to th' thatch'd
House eves he twines, where, newly hatcht,
He found young birds, in number eight,
The old one th' ninth, which on them sate,
They were yong sparrows, or Tom Tits,
I know not which, but at eight bits
I'm sure, though they poore things did chirp, and
Tremble, th' were eaten by the serpent,
And, all this while, th' enraged old one
Flew up and downe, and seem'd to scold on
The greedy monster that had robb'd her,
But he contriv'd a slight and bobb'd her,
For as she flew about, and clap'd her
Wings at him, he sprang forth, and snapp'd her,
Thus soon as he had clear'd the nest,
And eat the old one, and the rest,
The mighty son of crafty Cronus,
Conjur'd him back againe to's owne house,
And when wee look'd all about for him,
We could find nought but th' well-stone o're him,
We knew not (it did so astonish us)
What by this signe Jove did admonish us:
Nor guess'd we what he should foretell
By th' serpents comming out oth' well,
When Calchas, streight, the cunning man
Thus to unriddle it began,
Why are ye silent all and hush'd,
Ye noble Greeks, whose haire is bush'd?
Wise Jove hath shewne us this portent,
We must with patience wait th' event,
'Twill be a thing that will commend
The Græcian name, world without end,
Just now you here have seen this same
Serpent eate th' young birds and their dam,
The meaning of it I divine,
The young birds eight, one more makes nine,
That's th' old one, had there been one more
Amongst them, th' had been halfe a score,
This shewes that, nine whole years, we shall
Lay tedious siege against Troy wall,
In the tenth year, by this I see 't,
We shall all enter Troy's high street,
This Calchas said, and still we find
All falls out true he er'e divin'd,
Therefore, ye booted Greeks, couragio
Let stay this while though 'twere an age ho,
Till we take Priam's town, and truly
If we do not, then Calchas you lie.

This said, all flung their Caps ith' aire,
And cry'd out, Sir, your speech is faire,
The ships, as if they'd rend in peeces,
Rang with the praises of Ulisses,
Ev'ry one there judg'd it as fine
A preachment, as er'e from divine
Could be expected, thus they roar'd,
Commending largely ev'ry word.

Old Nestor, us'd to ride about
Allway's, by reason of the Gout,
To make a Speech among them stood,
Which this wise he begun; By th' rood
Ye talke like Babes, all, skill'd in rattles,
And hobby horses, more then battles,
Where shall we find us out evasions
Enough, to salve our protestations?
Must that which skilfull men invented,
And sound conveyancers indented,
Be now despis'd? as for our solemne
Cov'nants, and leagues, what must befall 'em?
To perish must it be their lots
In Greg'ry's Bonefire, like the Scots?
Shall we now violate that agreement,
On which we all did take the Sacrament?
And that to which we set our hands?
If so, none ere will take our bands,
When we've thought all the live long day on't
There will be found no other way on't
Then to stay out our time with patience,
And that is now not many daies hence,
Atrides, to your purpose stand,
And still continue your command
Over the Greeks, if any be
Mongst them (As there's but two or three)
Who from the rest consult apart;
You need not value them a f---
Bid 'em be hang'd, or kiss your a---
For, let them do their best, they'l scarce
Find their way homewards, till we know
Whether Jove fools us, I, or noe,
This I'me sure, when we went aboard,
Bringing for Troy town fire, and sword,
Jove gave 's a pass, and did expresse,
By favorable signes no less,
For then his lightning, to our wonder,
Shew'd us the way, and his lowd thunder,
In consort with our drum's, did beat us
A march, pray therefore never let us
Think of returning back to Greece,
Without a Trojan Girle a piece,
Let no man think of his own dwelling,
Ere he hath been reveng'd for Helen,
But if there's any that's so sterne,
That will in spight of us returne,
Let him but touch his barge well plank'd,
And streight, with death, he shall be thank'd,
For you Atrides, though y'are wise,
Pray take, as well as give advice,
What I say, though it doth not proffit,
You'l not be th' worse for th' hearing of it,
Then, briefly, thus I do advise,
Divide your men by companies;
So files will help files, in each squadron
So may you find out who ere's a drone,
This if by your command you doe,
What each man doth will lie in view,
Then, if you take not Troy, you'l know
The cause on't, how it happens so,
Whether it be long of Joves will,
Or of our Souldiers want of skill,
'Twill put a stop 'gainst all profaning
The gods, if't hap for want of trayning,

Then thus Atrides made him answer
Nay, by my faykins now, old grandsire,
You still do go beyond the young
Greeks, in the smoothnesse of your Tongue,
I would to Jove, Phæbus, and Pallas,
We had ten men amongst us all, as
Well bred as you, to Read and Write,
Then should Troy town, to day, ere night,
Be brought, by all our hands, to ruine,
Wee'd ope the gates, and let all you in.
But alas Jove with's Goats-skin mantle
Doth somewhat scurvily me handle,
And thrusts me into brauls, and brables,
Whence none to set himself free able's,
For you know how, about the Girle, I
And stout Achilles did grow surly
With one an other, the affront,
I found, in coole blood thinking ont,
I gave him first, but if again
He would consult with me, why then
Wee'd by no means delay to murther
These miscreants one minute further
For th' present go all to your suppers,
And after that, have at their cruppers,
Each rub's spear, surbush up his shield,
Arme ye at all points for the field,
You of the Cavalry, by all meanes
Give your Horse store of Oates and Beanes,
Give 'em fresh litt'r, and rub their heeles,
You Wagoners, liquor your wheeles,
That all the day long we may fight,
Till we be parted by dark night,
I'le set you all so hard a working,
That ev'ry one shall sweat through's Jerkin,
And all the while the Drums shall strike up,
Whilst any man can hold his Pike up,
The teems shall sweat too, and take paines,
That draw along our laden waines,
If any of you I see hanker
Here, nigh the Boates that ride at anchor,
'Twill be well for that Jackanapes,
If he the Dogs and Kites escapes,

This when h' had spoke, the Greeks cry'd hilo
With such a noise as when a billow
The North wind 'gainst a steep rock dashes,
Which waves, on each side driven, washes
So standing in the mid'st oth' flood,
That no wind ever blow's it good,
They rise and with shout's strain their throats,
Scat'ring themselves among the Boats,
Then through the camp they made great bonefires,
And sup'd, with mutton broyld upon fires,
And each said over a rosary
To's sev'ral Saint, with Ave Mary,
Adding to all the rest this prayer,
To come from field alive, and fayr,
And that he might come off from grim
Mars his assaults, sound, wind, and limb,
Atrides, 'mongst the rest, did call
On Jove, and kill'd an Ox from's stall,
Of five years old, and for the best
Oth' parish, with him, made a feast,
But to him there came nev'r a guest, or
Neighbor, before jolly old Nestor,
Idomeneus, next, made one more,
Then the two Ajaxes made fowre,
In the fifth place came Diomedes,
And sixth Ulisses came, to feed his
Ungodly gut, his braines as full
Of plots, and crotchets, as Ioves scull;
Then Menelaus good at bauling,
For's wide throat fam'd, came without calling,
His throat perhaps at table better,
There he was counted no small eater,
Thither he came of's own accord,
Knowing his brother kept good boord,
These eight sate rownd then to be brief,
And presently up comes the Beef,
They draw their Knives, and take their loaves,
Then said Atrides, let's crave Jove's
Blessing, and having said his grace,
Holding his hat before his face,
Whil'st the meat coold piec'd out his prayer,
With these words, or such like as they are;
Most powerful, and glorious Jove,
That dost inhabit th' Heavens above
The Clouds, grant ere the Sun go down,
I may demolish Priam's Town
With wildfire, and pay Hector's, jacket,
And at one blow in two may hack it,
And put the Noses in the gutter
Of his comrades, that makes this clutter.

Thus while he pray'd Iove, all the while;
Did nought but laugh in's sleeves, and smile
Biteing his Lips, to hear him cog,
I, quoth he, when the Dev'l's a Hog,
And thus as soon as grace was sayd,
And ev'ry one had took him bread,
Atrides took the paynes to serve
His guests, and to them all to carve
First, tow'rds his Trencher he drew't nigh,
And then the Gooze did scarifie,
Then from the rest he pull'd it clean,
And with it sent some fat and lean
That thoroughly had not been boyl'd,
Down to the Scullions, to be broyl'd,
This they did, o're a fire of cleft wood,
And broyl'd the Tripes oth' coals oth' left wood,
Thus, having their Beef and Tripes dres't,
They chop'd, and joynted all the rest,
Which some no sooner had quite fitted,
But th' were by others tooke and spitted,
The turn-spits rosted it with stedy
Hand, and took't up when it was ready:
Atrides, having carved round:
Cut's for himselfe at least five pound,
Putting 't on's trencher, to't doth fall,
Say'ng, now I hope I've pleas'd you all,
The cookes too, having done, were set
At table hay fellow well met,
The meanest scullion had like cheere
With the sufficient'st man sate there:
Thus they allay'd their hung'r and thirst,
Then spake old Nestor these words, first:

Right worshipful, our great commander
Atrides, let's no longer stand here,
Let's by no means seem to put off, or
Abuse th' occasion the Gods proffer,
Send about cryers to give notice
To ev'ry Greek who at his boat is,
No longer let us here hold prattle,
But quickly rally, and joyne battle;

This Nestor had no sooner say'd,
But Agamemnon streight obey'd
And bid the bauling cryers rouse
The sleeping Greeks to rendezvous,
They call'd the Græcians with curl'd locks,
And they came thronging in by flocks,
Some corporall's that liv'd on spoyles
And what god sent 'em, through the files
March'd with Atrides, crying, this stands
Too near his fellow, keep your distance;
Thus they with him, survey'd both flanks,
Passing through all the files, and ranks,
Amongst these swashing sword-men, came
An ugly, blear-ey'd, ramping, dame,
In a short peticote she was clad,
Time could not change it, 'twas so bad,
Old fringe 'twas trim'd with, on which, rows
There hang'd, of tinsel, deckt with oes,
Well worth a hundred pound (believe it)
Of that mans mony that would give it,
Thus, like a Bedlam to and fro
She frisk'd, and egg'd 'em on to goe,
And at last, witch'd 'em in that plight,
That they were allmost mad to fight,
That ev'ry man there would have chose
Rather by half a bloody nose,
Then to have free leave home to sayle
To Argos with a prosp'rous gale,

As when the fire furiously rushes
O're a a hils top, through dry furs-bushes,
More and more still amain it blazes,
And at it all the country gazes,
So while the Greeks march'd, at the glaring
Of their bright armes, the god's stood staring,
As flocks of wild-fowle fly together,
(Whither wild Geese, or Cranes, or whether
Swans with long necks) they clap their wings,
And with their noise the whole Fen rings,
So towards Scamander's flowry banks
Did march the Græcian Files, and ranks,
The very ground did roare agen,
Beat with the hoofs of horse, and men,
Their number vy'd with Summers Flowers,
Or leaves brought forth by April showres,
Or might compare with flyes, when th' ayre is
Soultry, that fly about the dayrys,
So numerous a force did rally
Before Troy Town, then, in that Vally,
Then, just as neighbors higly Piglie,
Let their beasts graze, but then can quicklie,
Knowing the eare marke of their own,
Spy 'em from ev'ry one's i'th Town,
And, doing dammage against no man,
When they please, take them from the common,
So, ere they did begin the sport,
Each officer his men did sort
From all the rest, then when th' were ready,
Them up against the Trojans lead he,
They march'd, the van Atrides lead,
His staring Eyes, and beetle head,
Were like great Iupiter the thunderer's,
His belt resembled Mars the plunderer's,
His brest like Neptune's, thus to battle,
Like one Bull 'mongst so many cattle,
He lead the men of his own Town,
Thus that day Iove gave him renown,
And over's neighbors, set this beast,
Exalting's horne above the rest.