Mr. Cooke's Original Poems with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language |
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THERSITES, From the second Book of the Iliad.
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 | Mr. Cooke's Original Poems |  |
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THERSITES, From the second Book of the Iliad.
The Rest appeas'd sat from Contention free;
Thersites clamour'd much, and only he;
Of no immod'rate Use of Words asham'd,
Grossly he wrangled with, and idly blam'd,
The kingly Pow'rs; and, when he Silence broke,
Rash and ungraceful were the Words he spoke.
Much was the Wretch of scurril Language vain,
Provoking Laughter in the Greecian Train:
He was the vilest that to Ilium came:
Distorted were his Eyes, one Foot was lame;
His Breast contracted to his Shoulders join'd,
His Shoulders rising in a Bunch behind;
His Head sharp ended in a piked Crown;
Thin flourish'd on the Scalp the Hairs like Down.
He hated much the Leader of the Host,
But great Achilles and Ulysses most;
With whom he wrangled much; and, void of Dread,
He loud and shrill aspers'd and sov'reign Head.
The Greeks, with Rage and Indignation stung,
Hear'd his unruly Libertys of Tongue;
Yet unappal'd the Wretch his Venom flings,
Outrageous thus, against the King of Kings.
Thersites clamour'd much, and only he;
Of no immod'rate Use of Words asham'd,
Grossly he wrangled with, and idly blam'd,
The kingly Pow'rs; and, when he Silence broke,
Rash and ungraceful were the Words he spoke.
246
Provoking Laughter in the Greecian Train:
He was the vilest that to Ilium came:
Distorted were his Eyes, one Foot was lame;
His Breast contracted to his Shoulders join'd,
His Shoulders rising in a Bunch behind;
His Head sharp ended in a piked Crown;
Thin flourish'd on the Scalp the Hairs like Down.
247
But great Achilles and Ulysses most;
248
He loud and shrill aspers'd and sov'reign Head.
The Greeks, with Rage and Indignation stung,
Hear'd his unruly Libertys of Tongue;
Yet unappal'd the Wretch his Venom flings,
Outrageous thus, against the King of Kings.
Say whence, Atrides, thy Complaints arise?
What wants our Monarch that a Greek denys?
With massive Brass thy Tents full crouded shine,
And num'rous the selected Beautys thine;
Of which we Greeks first make the Choice thy own,
When rich with Spoils we leave a conquer'd Town.
Say if the Lust of Gold torments our King,
Which some rich Trojan shall from Ilium bring,
The Price of Ransom for his fav'rite Boy,
Whom I myself will Captive lead from Troy;
Or let our Chief some other Greek employ:
Or burns your Bosom with a new rais'd Flame,
For the Possession of a blooming Dame?
Endeavours thus our Leader to encrease,
O! Shame! the Troubles of the Sons of Greece!
No longer Men, degen'rate female Race,
Quick measure back the Seas, and fly Disgrace;
Here let us leave him, leave him to enjoy
The large Divisions he has gain'd in Troy:
'E're long our Absence shall instruct his Pride
Of what Importance were our Arms ally'd.
On one, in whom a braver Spirit reigns,
He heap'd Dishonour, and his Prize detains;
But now Achilles tamely bears the pass'd,
Or this Affront, O! King, had been thy last.
What wants our Monarch that a Greek denys?
249
And num'rous the selected Beautys thine;
Of which we Greeks first make the Choice thy own,
When rich with Spoils we leave a conquer'd Town.
Say if the Lust of Gold torments our King,
Which some rich Trojan shall from Ilium bring,
The Price of Ransom for his fav'rite Boy,
Whom I myself will Captive lead from Troy;
Or let our Chief some other Greek employ:
Or burns your Bosom with a new rais'd Flame,
For the Possession of a blooming Dame?
Endeavours thus our Leader to encrease,
O! Shame! the Troubles of the Sons of Greece!
250
Quick measure back the Seas, and fly Disgrace;
Here let us leave him, leave him to enjoy
The large Divisions he has gain'd in Troy:
'E're long our Absence shall instruct his Pride
Of what Importance were our Arms ally'd.
On one, in whom a braver Spirit reigns,
He heap'd Dishonour, and his Prize detains;
But now Achilles tamely bears the pass'd,
Or this Affront, O! King, had been thy last.
251
Thersites grouling thus his Mind betray'd
Against Atrides whom the Greeks obey'd;
Ulysses then the sharp Rebuke began,
Who, rising, sternly view'd the reptil Man.
Against Atrides whom the Greeks obey'd;
Ulysses then the sharp Rebuke began,
Who, rising, sternly view'd the reptil Man.
Here screaking Brawler let thy Clamours end;
Nor longer singly with the Kings contend:
Not one of all the Greeks, the num'rous Band,
Who with th'Atrides left their native Land,
Not one of all this Host, our Arms employ
Viler than thee against the Walls of Troy;
Yet shall a Wretch like you, all void of Shame,
The Flight encourage, and the Kings defame.
You, while the Sons of Greece to act delay,
Uncertain whether to return or stay,
In Scandal busy waste your Hours away.
E'en now the King of Men your Slander bears,
Because the Prizes with the Chiefs he shares;
Their Gifts with Joy on him bestow'd they see;
What but Detraction has he had from thee?
Mark well my Words: when first I hear again
Thy Tongue indulging this licentious Strain,
That Moment may this Head my Trunc disjoin,
And may Telemachus no more be mine,
If I forbear to rend thy Robes away,
And leave thee naked to the Eye of Day;
Hence to the Fleet, with this correcting Hand,
I'll lash thee roaring from th'assembled Band.
Nor longer singly with the Kings contend:
252
Who with th'Atrides left their native Land,
Not one of all this Host, our Arms employ
Viler than thee against the Walls of Troy;
Yet shall a Wretch like you, all void of Shame,
The Flight encourage, and the Kings defame.
You, while the Sons of Greece to act delay,
Uncertain whether to return or stay,
In Scandal busy waste your Hours away.
E'en now the King of Men your Slander bears,
Because the Prizes with the Chiefs he shares;
Their Gifts with Joy on him bestow'd they see;
What but Detraction has he had from thee?
Mark well my Words: when first I hear again
Thy Tongue indulging this licentious Strain,
253
And may Telemachus no more be mine,
If I forbear to rend thy Robes away,
And leave thee naked to the Eye of Day;
254
I'll lash thee roaring from th'assembled Band.
255
Ulysses spoke, and made the Dastard cowr
Beneath the Ensign of the sov'reign Pow'r:
A bloody Tumour rises from the Blow;
The Caitiff trembles, and his Eyebrims flow;
With inward Grief, silenc'd alone by Fear,
Forlorn he sat, and wip'd the falling Tear.
The Sons of Battel, who th'Assembly crown'd,
Forgot their Sorrows, and the Laugh went round.
Beneath the Ensign of the sov'reign Pow'r:
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The Caitiff trembles, and his Eyebrims flow;
With inward Grief, silenc'd alone by Fear,
Forlorn he sat, and wip'd the falling Tear.
The Sons of Battel, who th'Assembly crown'd,
Forgot their Sorrows, and the Laugh went round.
| Mr. Cooke's Original Poems | |