Homer A la Mode :: :: University of Virginia Library

Homer A la Mode

A Mock Poem upon the first, and second books of Homer's Iliads

Scudamore, James (1641 or 2-1666)

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Homer A la Mode.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I.]

The Argument.

One Captaine at another swaggers,
And comes, almost, to drawing daggers,
The Army's plagu'd, not for their vices,
But long o'th prayers of old Chryses,
Which was a poore Clerk of Apollo's;
These the Contents, the Chapter follows.

Come on, strike up thou riming Goddess,
And sing me, in some blyth Rhapsody's,
Achilles his unlucky fury;
Which, as the sequell may assure ye,

Did bring upon the Græcians, double
Foure or five hundred pecks of trouble;

And, as the tale doth farther tell us,
Did send a number of good fellows,
Without as much as being sick,
Body and Soule downe to old Nick,
Which, hash't before by Mars his cooks,
Made treats for mastiff dogges and rooks;
(For no man living dares say no
When crosse-grain'd Jove will have it so)
Since first Agamemnon the Generall,
He under whose command the men are all,
With stout Achilles fell at odds;
But which the devil of all the Gods,
Can any say by what appeares,
Set these two swabbers by the eares?
Who but Latona and Joves son?
Who, angry with Agamemnon,
Did send the plague and pox among 'em,
H'had better took 'em both and hung 'em,

For, for their sakes, the harmlesse people
Kick't up heeles like rotten sheep,

The meanes how this did come about,
That with Apollo he fell out,
Was this; Apollo had a Flamen
Who us'd in's Temple to cry Amen,
For th' present think one of our sextons,
This fellow Agamemnon vex'd once,
Coming to pay his Daughters ransome,
For (to say truth) the Girle was handsom,
He brought along with him rare gifts,
Knowing the Souldiers wanted shifts,
He came well stock'd with Canvas suites,
Good lockram shirts, and well vamp'd Boots,
Besides, for Food, Bisket of Naples,
And, in his Pocket, mellow Apples,
For State, with him bore an attendant,
A Dog-whip with a Bell at th' end on't,
To th' Tent where Agamemnon kept her,
And told him 'twas Apollos Scepter,

With him there came another carle, and
Bore after him the parish Garland,
That Garland which did hang before
Over Apollos Chancell door,
Thus coming to the Græcian Navy,
He doff't his Cap, and cry'd God save ye
To all the Greeks, to each Atrides
Specially, who the peoples guide is,
Then tilting down's head, up his breech,
He thus began to make a Speech,

Right worshipfull, you both Atridæ,
And those that sit o'th bench beside ye,
You throng of Græcians altogether,
Whose Boots are made of good Neats Lether,
Were Jove so much your Friend as I am,
You quickly should vanquish King Priam,
I wish that all the Gods would lend
Their help to bring Troy to its end,
And bring you to your parish a'ter.
In the mean time pray free my Daugher,

Accepting what I humbly offer,
Brought hither out of my Wives Coffer,
Herein you shall Apollo reverence,
And make him of your party ever hence.

As soon as all the Souldiers heard it,
For Chryses streight they gave their verdit,
For the poor varlets mouths did water
More at his trinckets then his Daughter,
And therefore thought fit to respect
The Priest, and not his gifts reject,
Onely, amongst them all, Agam-
-Memnon began to curse and dam,
And, ceasing not to rant and sweare,
Sent him home with a Fly in's ear,

Quoth he, Old man, I give thee notice,
Woe be to him that in thy coat is,
If ever Agamemnon catches
Him in our Ships, though under hatches,
Sexton ile spoyle you for a ringer,
If any longer here you linger,

If e're you come again to'th Navy,
You'le find your Scepter will not save ye,
If ever here again you dare land,
You'l find no favour for your Garland,
As for the Wench, I'le not part with her
Till age hath render'd her whitlether,
With me she shall stay in the mean while.
(Though from her parish it were ten mile)
She shall not once budge from my quarters,
But there shal weave bonelace and garters,
And with me tumble shall in the straw
Oft'ner then my wife Clytemnestra,
Therefore begon, provoke me not,
Or else by—thou go'st to pot.

Old Chryses for fear almost dead,
Shrinking his ears close to his head,
And not attempting one word more,
March'd silently along the shore,
But all the way, in wofull postures
He mutter'd backward Pater nosters;

Making his Prayer to King Apollo,
Latona's son, as here doth follow.

Quoth he look thou on my hearts wounds
That dost in Chryse walk the rounds,
O thou which Cylla guardest ever,
And Tenedos, with silver quiver,
Thou heavenly rat-catcher, if ere
I'th temple I made thee good cheer,
Or have e're flung the fat i'th fire
Of Bulls, or Goats, grant my desire,
For thine own honour think upon't,
And let the Greeks rue this affront.

Thus, whining, pray'd this great old lubberd,
The chinkes in's cheeks with tears all blubberd,
Apollo hears him and forth put's
From high Olympus vext at guts,
His Bow in rage he straight flung over
His Back, and's Quiver with close cover,
And as he went his angry Arrows
Rumbled, as if th' had been wheel-barrows,

Pulling his Cap down o're his face,
He stole in a night walkers pace,
He came, and sate behind the boats,
Drew's bow, and cry'd have at your coates.
Straight a broad arrow he let go,
Twang say's the string of's Silver Bow,
All his first shootes he made at random,
Or else no living wight durst stand 'em,
The first Bolt that he shot, did chance
Against a Mules fifth rib to glance;
The very next, beleeve me Sirs,
Did light among the fisting Curs.

Thus of the beasts having made havoke,
He turn'd his javelins against the folke,
And from among them forthwith flyes one
Whose forked head was dip't in poison,
Which went directly as a line,
This trade continu'd whole days nine,
And all this while, I can assure you, all
That dy'd, could scarce get decent buriall,

Some they were faine to burne like witches,
Others were thrown by heapes in ditches,

At last when the tenth day was come once,
Achilles sent about his summons,
To give all notice, that they meet
In all post hast, at a court leete;
For Juno, with her dirty Fists,
(Yet cleanlyer above the wrists)
Minded him to seek out a wizard,
For it did vex her to the gizard,
I'th midst of all their warlike hurrying,
To see the Græcians die o'th muraine,
Then thus, as soon as all the commons
Were met according to their summons,
Achilles, nimble as any lacky,
Starts up amongst them, and thus spake he.

Quoth he, right worshipful Atrides,
Either my guess o'th matter wide is,
Or home again we all must go
To save our lives, glad we scape so,

For all our Souldiers, on my word,
Can't long hold out 'gainst plague, and sword.
In all our camp they'l soon leave no man,
Therefore let's find out some wise woman,
Or some old Priest t' interpret dreams,
And free us from these two extreames,
(For dreames from Jupiter are sent,)
So may we know Phæbus's intent
Or what a pox should be the matter
Why he this plague 'mongst us should scatter,
Whether it be cause we did faile him
In paying our vows, or what should ay'le him,
Or else whether the reason lyes
In our default of sacrifice,
Or whether he'l be reconcil'd
With th' steam of mutton rost, or boyl'd,
Or if he'l cure us of this pox
For the choyce Kids in all our flocks,
Thus, having ended his fair speech,
He sate him down again on's breech,

Who starts me up when he had done?
But cunning Calchas, Thestor's Son,

Well wot he whatsoe're birds spoke,
Whether Owles hoop, or Ravens croke,
Nor did he onely understand
Things that were present, and at hand,
But that which was to be anon,
And what pass'd thousand years agone,
When first the Græcians hoys'd up sayle
For Troy towne, in their coats of Male,
Then this wise Calchas was their Pilot,
Which office fell not to him by lot,
But was confer'd upon his merit,
'Cause he had a familiar spirit,

This fortune-teller, thus endow'd
As hath been said, mannerly bow'd,
Then said, Darling of Jove, Achilles,
You bid me say what Phœbus's will is,
Which I'le perform, but first d'ye here,
I'le make you promise me, and swear
That you'l stand by me, and assist
What e're I say with your clutch't fist,

And that you'l heartily incourage,
And keep me safe from threatning, or rage,
What e're I say you must avouch,
For I beleeve, my words will touch
To th' very quick some great commander,
(And yet I swear they are no slander)
And that you know 's as bad, or worse,
Then currying a galled horse,
For why? you know, a Captaine's more
Powerful when vext, then e're before,
And though he for the present smother
His rage perhaps, yet at some other
Time 'twill break out, when e're a suiting
Occasion comes fort's executing,
When e're he finds the other armless,
Then tell me, wilt thou save me harmless?

Then spake Achilles swift of pace,
Fear not, (quoth he) take heart of grace,
What e're thou hast to say, be't best or
worst, speake it out thou son of Thestor,

I swear by Phœbus great Joves darling,
Thou shalt not need fear any snarling,
Whil'st thou the oracle dost expound,
As long as I am above ground,
And have mine eyes open, so long
None of the Greeks shall do thee wrong,
And on my honest word I tell ye,
No boat contains in's hollow belly,
The man that dares lay hands upon
Thee, though thou saiest Agamemnon,
Who (and good reason for't) doth boast
Himself Commander of the host

Then the harmlesse wizard 'gan to take
A good heart to him, and thus spake,
'Tis not for breaking of ingagement,
That Phœbus is in this inragement,
Nor doth he to this plague us doome
Because he wants a Hecatombe,
But 'tis because Agamemnon
In scorne bid Chryses get him gone,

And neither took the gifts he brought here,
Nor yet would give him back his Daughter,
Therefore e're since this cunning Archer
Hath been as mad as any March Hare,
And hitherto hath laid plagues on
Us, and resolves ne're to have done
Till we the black-ey'd Girle restore,
And set her down at her Dads dore,
Bringing her thither in our Barges,
And bearing all her Journeys charges,
And with her we must give Old Chryses
A goodly sight of Sacrifices,
And then Apollo will grow mild,
And easily be reconcil'd

When he had said thus, he sate down;
Then, shewing 's anger in a frown,
Agamemnon rose, (or he bely'd is)
Who by his Sir-name hight Atrides,
He swell'd, and then lookt black with Ire,
His eyes cast sparkes like charcoale fire;

Then first he furiously did blink on
Calchas, like the Divell o're Lincolne;
Then thus bespake him, ne're had I
From thy mouth yet good Prophesy,
Thou damnable, unlucky, villanous,
Wizard, thou lov'st still to speake ill on us,
Thou onely dost contention breed.
Ne're speak'st good word, nor dost good deed,
And now you tell the Greeks y'have found,
VVhil'st you the Oracle expound,
That long of me haps all this slaughter,
Because I keep old Chryses Daughter
Perforce, and would not take his present,
That therefore on us this plague he sent,
Indeed I love the wench a life,
More then I do my lawfull VVife,
For better huswife ne're trod lether,
And, to say truth, she's not beneath her

Neither for wit, nor yet for feature,
Nor for her gentle loving nature,
But for all this, an't must be so,
VVith all my heart I'le let her go,
For who can helpe it? I had rather
Save my own troop, then my own father,
I'le give consent, and ne're ask why so,
But alwaies making this proviso,
Neighbours, I should be very sorry
To loose by th' Kindness I have for ye,
Therefore I hope, when she is gone,
You will not leave me thus alone,
For, is there any reason why
Each man should have his wench but I?
And truly I should be the loather
To leave her but for hopes of other,
I quitt her for the publick ends,
The publick must make me amends.

Achilles, footed like a dancer,
Starts up, and makes him streight this answer,

Quoth he, Ambitious Atrides
Thy greedy mind ne're satisfi'd is,
Such Avarice was never heard on,
How should the Greekes give thee a guerdon?
Doth any man know, with a pocks,
What thou'ldst have? we've no common stocks,
What ere from Citties we have plundred,
Divided is 'mongst many a hundred,
Dost thinke any will leave his share on't?
There's no such fooles I faith, I warrant,
If thou'lt be willing to present her
To th' god at present at a venture,
When by us any more girles are gain'd
You'le not repent you have thus bargain'd,
For her we'l give rich interest
In three or fowre more of the best,
As soon as Jove will let's destroy
This paltry mudwall'd burough Troy,

Then Agamemnon 'gan to make him
Answer to this, and thus bespake him,

Hold hold Achilles, though th' hadst been,
As good a man as George a Green
Although thou wert a pretyer fellow
Then any man that liues here below,
Thinke not that thus thou shall me Cokes,
And bore my nose, like Iohn a Nokes;
Though th' art the bravest of thy inches,
Shall't nere ore reach me with thy clinches;
whilst thou art furnish'd with females,
Should I sit downe and suck my nayles?
You bid me let my Doxy goe,
But first I must know whither or noe
The lusty Græcians will binde
Themselves to fit me to my mind
With some one else, and tis but right
But if in casé you all deny't,
Ile take a girle where ere I list
And let me see who dares resist,
Thyne, or Ulisses, or Ajax,
As sure as the coates on your backs,

To loose his girle I know it would
Uex any, but I must make bold;
But of this we'l discourse here a'ter,
At present lets draw downe to th' water
A lighter us'd to carry seacoale,
Whose pitchy backs as black as the coale;
In it let's place some lusty barge men,
Such as amongst us are most large men,
With them the Hecatombe when she is
Ready to launch forth, bring Chryseis,
Then let a Steersman goe aboard her,
The waryest our campe can afford her,
Ajax, or else Idomeneus,
Or, if they both desire excuse,
Let 't be Ulysses; if his will is
To stay at home; go thou Achilles,
Who hast such dreadfull gogle eyes,
For us to Phœbus sacrifice,

Light-foot Achilles twice or thrice
Star'd at him like a cockatrice,
Then spake, (pausing a little while)
Thou bundle of impudence and guile,
How canst thou entertain a thought,
That ere the Græcians should be brought
By virtue of command from you,
To charge the foe, or lye perdue?
Dost thinke that I come for my owne
Interest to besiege Troy towne?
Or charge their pikemen? by the masse
On my ground they did nere trespasse,
They never with mee play'd the theeves,
Or stole my horses, or my beeves,
Nor ere in Phthye (whose rich pastures
With good increase doth feed their masters,)
Came they ith' dead of dark night creeping,
To rob my orchards of one pipin,

Or genet moyle; the reason's plain,
Because betwixt them lyes the mayne,
Ditches and banks on which are thick set
Crab-trees, and poynant thornes of quick-set:
The cause that did to Troy towne draw us,
Was to right wronged Menelaus,
Onely to please the mind, Jove knows,
Of that good man, and you dogs nose:
But all our service is forgot,
Our courtesie you value not,
But sweare you'll rob me of my hire,
Which I'me sure I got out oth' fire,
And since it was the Græcians gift,
To keep it, I shall make a shift,
I'me sure with you I sha'nt part stakes,
When ere the Græcian army takes
Troy towne, this little tidy ham,
As full of men as ere't can cram,

And yet though th' warres continue an age,
Most part of them my hands must manage,
When we come to divide the spoyle,
Thou alwayes tak'st a huge great pile,
But if I get a little heap,
T'is all that e're my labours reap,
For which I'me thankfull, and goe mery
With it along to my owne whery,
But now I bid you all God b'wy ye,
For my part Ile go home to Phthie,
There Ile stay with my Sea-coale lighters,
And ne're thinke of the Græcian fighters,
For truly I thinke that's far better,
Without me little can you get here:
You never shall again disparage
Me, with your unmannerly carriage.
Agamemnon Captain of the Rout
Answer'd, mary if y'are so stout,
With all my heart, I faith, be jogging,
Ile never call you back by cogging,

Here are sufficient coppyholders
Tenants of mine, are as good Souldiers,
That honor me, and call me Land-lord,
Besides Jove our preserver, and Lord;
These are on my side, and no dastards,
I hate thee more then all Joves bastards;
Th' art quarelsome, and lov'st a life
To be at th' end of ev'ry strife,
What though at foot-ball thou giv'st oddes
To all the Parish, thanke the gods,
Here I've no great need of your ayd,
Goe home and looke thee a comrade,
Command thy Myrmedons, aboard
Thy Scullers, and there play the Lord,
Thy anger I not value doe
More then the dirt under my shoe,
And since thou art so peremptory,
Ile tell thee ee'ne the downe right story,

Since Phæbus ask's my concubine,
I'le send her in a boate of mine,
Besides two or three of my men
I'le send along with her, but then
I'le come my selfe as sure as she is
Aliue, and take away Bryseis,
She whose cheekes are as red as cheries,
And bring her home in my owne wheries,
From thy tent, whereby thou shall know
That I am none of thy fellow,
And this I'le doe that others may
By an example learne t' obey,
And tremble ever to out-braue
Me, as thou dost, thou saucy knaue,

This when Achilles heard, a sadness
Seiz'd him, he could have cry'de for madness;
Whilst he bethought him what was best,
His heart nigh brake in's shaggy brest,
He'd faine have drawne his trusty dudgeon,
And been the death of that cormudgion,

Because he talk'd to him so surly,
But that he fear'd a hurly burly,
His mind, when he thought better on't,
Was to have put up the affront,
But then again he thought it base
To put up such a foule disgrace,
Standing and doubting thus with in a yard
Of Agamemnon, he drew's whinyard,
And whilst, he scarce yet knew's own mind,
Who comes me stealing in behind,
(Sent from one Juno, an old witch,
Whose wrists were white with scurfe, and itch
Who lov'd 'em dearly both) but a lass
That liv'd with her, whose name was Pallas;
She striking him two or three wherets
O'th ears, tooke hold of's bunch of carrets,
Her shape seen onely by Pelides,
By none of all the rest espy'd is,

Achilles wondred who should be
So bold, and turn'd about to see,
And staring at her, streight her knew,
Although she look't then deadly skew,
And Bawling at her, these words utter'd,
As swift as if his tongue were butter'd.

Daughter of Jove that of Goats lether
Wears doublets what wind brought thee hither?
Art come to testify the slander
Thrown on me by Atrides yonder
I'le tell the one thing, and that truly
He presently shall come of Blewly,
For by these trusty hilts, this strife,
If I miss not, shall cost his life;

To him then thus said bleare ey'd Pallas,
Art mad? What, dost not fear the gallows?
My dame, which too well loves you all,
Hath sent me to compose this braul,

I'me sent by Juno with white wrists
To keep the peace, and hold your fists,
Therefore hands off, do not thou draw
Thy sword, agree, you know the Law
Is costly, if you please you may
Berogue and rascall him all day,
For this I tell you, and 'tis true,
This combate he shall dearly rue,
He shall e're long be put to's shifts,
And court you with three times these gifts,
Prethee therfore put up thy toole,
say thou wer't once rul'd by a fool,
Then said Achilles light of feet,
If she command me, then so be it,
we must of force obey old wives
Needes must he go the Divell drives,
Though I were vex'd, and nere so bold,
I dare not strike when she bids hold,
I know if I be rul'd by thee,
Thou'lt do as much again for mee,

This said, e're any blood was spilt,
He put his fist in's basket hilt,
To th' scabbard that did it in viron
He thrust again his fighting Iron.

When Pallas saw't, she tooke her flight
A stride a cowle-staffe, out of sight,
And streight, before one could have mist her,
She was, where she had many a sister,
That sate in Joves house dayly working,
That Jove that weares a goates skin jerkin,
Meane while Achilles kept the peace,
But to berogue him did not cease,
Quoth he, thou drunken, dogs-face, coward,
There's all the parish can tell how hard
'Tis for us ever to perswade
Thee to lie in an ambuscade
Nor ever will thy faint heart yeild
To put on armor for the field,

Y' had rather live on what you pillage,
By these dog-tricks, from your own village,
Forsooth if any contradict
You, streight his pockets must be pickt,
Tis forty pittys th' hast such power
Thy poor dragoons thus to deuoure
But, for my part, I tell you playne
You nere shall rayle at me againe.

But this I say, and if I tooke,
To it my oath upon a booke,
I should not be forsworne, I sweare
By this comanding club I beare,
This club that: nere againe shall bring
Forth blosomes, for twas cut last spring
Out of the Copse where't grew before,
And now tis dayntyly guilt or'e,
Borne by a Græcian Constable,
To keepe the peace among the rable,

And yet I tell you that's an oath
To break which I'de be very loath,
I'swear, and I will ne're draw back,
That when the Greeks my ayd do lack,
Which will be shortly, I conjecture,
When they fall into 'th hands of Hector,
Then thou in vain shal't fret at heart,
And fret thou shal't stil for my part,
Then wilt thou rue the time and place
Where thou the stout'st Greek didst disgrace.

So when he had said, he did doff his
Cap, and flung down his staffe of office,
On which the badge, and name o'th town
Was writ in gold, besides his own,

And sate him down upon his bum,
When streightway with a hauk and hum,
To clear his cough, there rose up aged
Nestor (the while Atrides raged)

Well-spoken Nestor, from whose chops
Flow'd hony words as fast as hops,
He was Pylian, and had bore
All offices i'th parish o're:
Two years together he had tooke
On him the keeping o'th Church Book,
In which he faithfully writ down
Those that were born, and dy'd i'th town,
And that year, least th' accounts should erre,
He was the third time register;
This yeoman mongst them up did rise,
And made this preachment grave and wise,

Gods bobs, quoth he, how great a sorrow
Will this bring all the parish thorough!
This will make Priamus rejoyce,
And with him all his Trojan boys,

He'le be at heart glad, when he heares
You're fal'n together by the ears,
You Sir that are the Greeks conducter,
And you that are their grave instructer,
Leave off, and be rul'd by me rather,
I'me old enough to be your father,
I have been bred I tell you true,
With many men as good as you,
And none of them ever despis'd
To doe the thing that I adviz'd;
And no disparagement, I may say
You shan't see in a summers day
Such as Pirithous, and Dryas
The sheaphard, that liv'd here hard by us,
Besides Exadius, and Ceneus,
Men who in war were of no mean use,
And then another, who may seem as
Though he was Joves Son, Polyphemus;
And Theseus, of whom we come short all
You would have sworn h' had been immortall,

These were stout men as ere were borne,
Or that ere eate bread made of corne,
And though I say't, many a hard battle
They fought in fields with neighbours cattle,
And butcher'd them in cruell manners,
And after sold their hides to tanners,
I of this gang for some short while was,
When I did travell out of Pylus;
And, lest the hue and cry should seize us,
We trudg'd out of Peloponesus,
Then did I, aswell as I cou'd,
Rob pastures for my livelihood,
They took mee with them at the first,
No man liv'd in those dayes that durst
Fight with these kilcows, and yet they
What I adviz'd would still obey,
Do as these men did then, pray do Sirs,
By my advice you'll be no loosers,

And though you, Agamemnon, may,
Pray doe not take the wench away,
Prethee for my sake let him have her,
Because to him the Græcians gave her,
To give a thing and take a thing
You know is the Devils gold ring,
And you, Achilles, pray forbeare
Against the Generall to sweare,
How can you think your honour even
With his, which is bestow'd by heaven?
'Tis Iove hath given him his place,
In signe of which he beares a mace,
What though you 'ue a good pedegree?
And are a lusty fellow? he
Must take place of you, and that duly,
He is your generall, and must rule ye,
And many more; for you, Atrides,
Soone as your anger pacify'd is,
Achilles I shall reconcile,
And put an end to his mad coyle,

For in this war, without a bragg,
He's the best peare in all our bagg,

Thus Nestor gaue in his opinion,
When next, Atrides, whose dominion
Reach't far and wide reply'd, says he
I mary gaffer, there i'me w'ye,
But this contentious rascall here,
Over us all will domineere,
He would command, as who should most,
And with his nod would rule the rost,
But here I doubt he'l scarce find those
That will be tame at his dispose,
What though he could toss a long pike,
Soe well that none could doe the like,
Is't therefore fit he should be bold
To rayle at any uncontroll'd?
To this Achilles answer made,
Snapping him up ere h' had quite sayd,
Quoth he well might a man suppose,
If I should be led by the nose

Whether pleas'd thee, I were a coward,
But I'me as good a man as thou art,
Therefore command your boyes, that can
Obey, you'll find I am a man.

And yet Ile tell you one thing more,
Which I'de almost forgot before,
Pray lay't to heart, I'le make no puther
With you, or else with any other
About the wench, because, like boyes,
You give and aske againe your toyes;
But as for any thing beside
A board my boats, let it be try'd
Whether thou dar'st touch them or no,
Without my leave, all these shall know
I can defend my owne, thy gore
Shall staine my long spere o're and o're,

These two still wrangling in this sort,
With an O yes dissolv'd the Court,
And all went to their severall charges,
Some to their tents, some to their barges.

Achilles like a sad male-content,
March'd off directly to his owne tent,
And with him went Menætiades,
And many more of his comrades.

Meane while Atrides did not dally,
But streight prepares mee a swift gally,
And, shoving it off from the shore,
Put twenty men, each to an oare,
Then, with the Hecatombe, the Greeks
Chryseis brought with chery cheeks,
And after this, the cunning seer
Ulysses went aboard to steer,
And so they sayl'd along together,
For th' present 'tis no matter whether.

Meane while Atrides, by all meanes,
Would all the camp from rubbish cleanse,
To which end men were put in trust,
To cry about, Bring out your Dust,
Which in carts carry'd to the shore,
Was throwne i'th sea, and seen no more,

When that was tumbled downe the ocean,
They fell forthwith to their devotion,
And ty'd upon Apollos altars
A hundred bulls and goates with halters,
Whose steam went up with such a smoake,
As if it would Apollo choake.
Thus the while all the camp throughout
The sacrifice busy'd the rout,
Agamemnon not intending to misse
That which in fury he did promise,
That which he did Achilles threaten
When by him he was almost beaten,
Talthybius calls, and Eurybates,
Who in all messages his mate is,
(These were two fellows that dwelt neer hand,
And us'd to run on ev'ry errand,
They wore blew coats, and the towne badges,
For why? the towne paid them their wages,
Nor us'd they onely to run post,
But sometimes cry'd things that were lost

About the towne on Market dayes)
And to them said, goe you your wayes
To'th quarters of Achilles, and
Take me Briseis by the hand,
Bring her, if he'll not let her goe,
Take mee her whether he will or no,
Or else my selfe I'le come in person,
And will make him deliver her soon,
I'le bring a file of Musketeers
And pull him out on's Tent by'th' eares,
Therefore command him at the first
To yeeld her, and prevent the worst,
Then, giving under's hand a warrant,
He sent them with this surly errand,
Which he no sooner had quite spake,
But they march'd off, like beares to th' stake,
Their eares like sheep-biters they hang'd,
And by the barren sea shore gang'd.

When they came where he did intrench
His Myrmedons, upon a bench

They found him sitting, 'twixt his boat
And tent, mending his ragged coat
Ith' Sun shine, and hard by the staires
Where all his scullers ply'd for fares,
Spying them, he did nothing lesse
Then leap for joy, you well may guesse;
The foot-posts too backward did sneake,
And out of fear could hardly speake,
But there like loggerheads stood scraping;

Achilles knowing by their gaping
What they did meane, Give you good 'en,
Quoth he, ye posts of gods and men,
Come near house pray, you have done nought
Against mee, 'tis Atrides fault,
Of you I shall not thinke the worse,
But put the saddle oth' right horse,
I know the reason why you came, as well
As he that sent you, for the damazell,

Therefore Patroclus pray deliver
The wench to them, that they may give her
To him that sent them, and wit you well
My friends and neighbours, and your cruell
Landlord, by all the gods Ile neere
With club in hand 'mongst you appeare,
Though 'twere to save you all alive,
And Trojans from your doors to drive,
No let them make you all their slaves,
As for his part, he's mad, and raves;
He hath no forecast in his noddle
The Greeke Battalia to modell,
That they might 'mongst their boats be safe,
He can do nought but fret and chafe.

Thus when he said, Patroclus went,
As he was bid, into the tent,
And brought Briseis from her needles
And samplers, to the two towne beedles,
And gave her, scarce without a grudge,
Away they to the navy trudge,

And she along with them did trot,
But with a heavy heart, God wot.

Achilles now, like a great lout,
Sate him apart from all the rout,
And vex'd because h'had lost his bride,
Sate pensively upon the side
Oth' sea that look'd like Muskadine,
And thus to's mother he did whine.

Rearing his fists, Mother, quoth hee,
In an ill howre you groan'd for mee,
Would I had layne ith' parsly-bed
Still, if so soon I must be dead,
Honor I thought I should have got
From Jove who gives mee nev'r a jot,
But scandall, for just now Atrides
Whose jurisdiction far and wide is,
Hath sent foot-posts, who are gone with
My concubine spight of my teeth,

His mother being within call
By good luck, heard him cry and ball,

As with her father she was diving,
And catching craw-fish for her living,
(For she belong'd to Billingsgate,
And often times had rid in state,
And sate i'th bottome of a poole,
Inthroned in a cucking-stoole;)
She, hearing him rose like a mist,
As wet as though she were bepist,

As soon as she close to him came,
She spake, and call'd him by his name,
Stroking him on the head, Pigsny,
Quoth she. tell me, who made it cry?
Speake, tell me which of all the boys
Beat it? or tooke away its toys?
I'le pay 'em be they one or t'other:
Come, dry thine eyes, tell thine own mother.

Achilles, sobbing still, thus spake,
And 'twixt each word his chops did quake,

Why should I tel you? you do know,
I'me sure, already well enough,
For in the parish there is no man
But that doth count you a wise woman,
But if so be I needs must tell
My cause of griefe, thus it befell,
We went to Thebes, not long agone,
The city of Eetion,
Which our Greeke companies did sack,
And brought a world of plunder back,
Which when they had divided fair
Chryseis fell t' Atrides share,
But afterwards, Chryses the Flamen
Of Phæbus, with some other laymen,
Wayting on him, came to the boates
Of the Greeke soldiers with red coates,
To ransome the fair maid, and they meant
To give him for her present payment,

They brougt rich presents too from their land,
For state the scepter and the garland
Of greate Apollo, who's as good
At pricks and buts as Robin Hood,
Thus he made humble suplication
To all the Græcian congregation,
But specially, above all others,
To both the camp-controuling brothers,
Now every Greeke except Atrides,
Presently on old Chryses side is,
And in one note do all agree,
For's guifts to set his daughter free,
And give him due respect, but onely
Atrides, that did love her fondly,
Was not contented with his humble
Petition, but at it did grumble,
And not affording him a civill
Answer, bid him begon to th' devill,

Chryses in wrath went home againe,
Whom his friend Phœbus heard complaine,

And 'mongst the Greeks sent a damned weapon
Which made the people streight dye heap on
Heap, whil'st Apollo's poysonous arrow
Flew the Greek Army thorough and thorough,
Till at the last we found a Prophet
That told us all the meaning of it,
And being a cunning Necromancer,
From Phœbus Oracle made answer.

Then first of all, I did advise
T' appease the God by sacrifice,
And humbly to intreat his pardon,
When Agamemnon rising star'd on
Me in a rage, threatned, and storm'd,
And what he threatn'd, hath perform'd,
For he prepar'd a boat, and fraught her
With gifts, and sent home Chryses daughter,
And black ey'd Greeks sent from the Navy
To Phœbus go to cry peccavi,
But which doth vex me most, he sent
Just now two beedles to my tent,

To bring my girle home for his use,
Judge you if this ben't an abuse,
Unless therefore you help your son
Some way or other, he's undone,
You may go up to high Olympus
Where Jupiter doth live, and him buss,
Then ask (taking him in the mood)
If ever you have done him good
At heart, by word, or else by deed,
Hee'd help you now, I'me sure you'le speed;
I've heard you tell i'th chimny corner
A tale how that ere I was born or
Begot, by your sole ayd the lowring
Cloudy Saturnius scap'd a scowring,
When all the rest of's imps did bragg
That they'd their father bind and gagg,
The plotters Pallas, and Neptune, who
Was a fish-monger, and dame Juno;
You knowing what they had design'd
Hindred them Jupiter to bind,

Calling with speed up to his starry house
A lusty fellow nam'd Briareus,
By all in heaven, but when he on
The earth did live, he height Ægeon;
This fellow had an hundred hands Sir,
And was a stouter man than's Grandsire,
And sate him downe next to Joves chare
As proud as if h'had been Lord Mayor,
While he sate there, all the immortall
Gods dreaded Jove, that spoyl'd their sport all,
Therefore when next you come to his
House, pray put him in mind of this,
Then towards him draw your stoole nigher,
And stroake his knees, or something higher,
Wish him to assist the Trojan pikemen,
That they may order matters like men,
And that they may the Græcians slaughter
Among their boats, and in the water,

That every one may have enough
Of their commander that's so gruff,
And that it may be to all them knowne,
Specially to proud Agamemnon,
How far he erred from the right
Whilst he the stoutest Greeke did slight;

Then Thetis ans'ring him did whine,
And from her blood-shot eyes flow'd brine;
Woes me, my boy, quoth she, accurst
Be the time where in thou wert nurst,
Would thou hadst sate still at thy wherry,
Without this wrong and sorrow mery;
For now thy life is short and bitter,
Thou wer't bewitch'd of all my litter;
But yet let me alone, I warrant
To Jupiter I'le doe thy errand,
For I my selfe in person will
Goe to his house, upon Snow-hill,

In the meane while sit here about,
Nere home, and at the Græcians pout,
But meddle not with any fray,
I charge you keep out of harmes way;
For Jove, and all his houshold a'ter
Him, yesterday went crosse the water,
To th' signe of the black boy in Southwarke;
To th' Ord'nary to find his mouth worke;
Where he intends to fuddle's nose
This fortnight yet, under the rose;
When he comes home, Ile watch my time,
And up the hill to's house I'le clime,
To that house which he hath by lease-hold,
With th' horse-shoe nayl'd upon the threshold,
Then, as thou told'st me, I'le petition't,
And I believe I shall not misse on't,

Thus when sh'had said, she did depart,
And left him there, vex'd at the heart

For th' wench, which was not long agoe
Tooke from him wheth'r he would or no.

But hold a little, methinkes this is
Too long o'th' sea to leave Ulisses,
Who brought the Græcians off'ring, by seas,
And the girle home again to Chryses,
Who now by this time did arive
At a wharfe, almost, like Queen-hive,
Then tooke they downe their saile, and mast,
And other tackle, in all hast;
Which when they had i'th' bottom 'stow'd,
One side held water, t'other row'd;
Then throwing out their hooks before,
They fastned them, and leapt a shore,
Then did they bring forth of the hollow
Lighter, the Hecatombe for Apollo,
And next of all, in a black scarfe,
Chyseis set foot on the wharfe,
Her did Ulysses full of guile
Streight forward lead to the Church stile,

There into th' hands of her nowne daddy
Having deliver'd her, thus sayd he,

O Chryses, Atrides our Cheiftaine,
Who had thy daughter, like a thief, tane,
Hath sent me, both to bring her home,
And to bring Phæbus's hecatomb,
Ith' name of all the Græcian dragoons,
For he hath sent a heavy plague on's,

This sayd, the girle embrac'd her father.
He in his heart is glad he hath her,
But almost before he could touch her,
Each Greeke began to play the butcher,
For having plac'd in comely wise
About the greene the sacrifice,
Washing their dirty fists, they take
And offer each an oaten cake,

Then Chryses stretch'd his armes, & pray'd
For 'em, as lowd as er'e ass bray'd;

Give eare, quoth he, to that which I say
O thou whose white Bow guardeth Chrysa,

That governest Cylla, and Tenedos,
With as much pow'r and might as any does,
Thou that before heard'st my petitions,
And honor'd'st me, plaguing the Græcians,
Heare me I pray thee once againe,
For my sake ease them of their paine,

Thus while he pray'd Phæbus attended,
Then, after their orisons ended,
They offer'd first their cakes of oates,
Then dragg'd the beasts, & cut their throates,
And from the flesh fleying the hide,
I'th next place did the legs divide,
Ore which with skew'rs they stuck the cawle
Double, and or'e that gobbets small;
This, on cleft wood fetch't out of's garret
The old man burnt, powring on't claret;
About him many scullions were,
Each charging a broach like a speare,
As soone as ere the leggs and guts
Were throwne ith' fire, the rest he cut's

Into small parcels, thus prepar'd
They streight were spitted by th' black guard.

As soon as all was roast enough, and
Ready to take up, this cook Ruffian
To's trusty turn-spits gave the word
To bring it to the dresser board,
The drudg'ry o're, themselves they placed
On their bums, without any grace said;
Amongst them there was none would starve, e're
He would consent to be's owne carver,
Nor was there any there that wou'd
Owne manners, more then did him good;
Ev'ry one fell to like a Cormorant,
And if he lik'd ought, still call'd for more on't,
Till th' were so cram'd with beef and mutton,
That every one was faine t'unbutton,
Untill at last there came that happy tide,
That satisfi'd ev'ry one's appetite,
Then when they found that nev'r a chinke
Was left for either meat or drinke,

For, what remayn'd they g'an to snatch all,
And with the scraps eath fill'd his sachell,
Then dranke they nappy ale in browne bowles,
Each fil'd to's neighbour, & sent round bowles,
Which orderly course none did omit,
Till he was drunke and 'gan to vomit;
Thus all the live-long day these tall lads
Made Phœbus sport by singing ballads,

All this while Phœbus laugh'd and gigl'd,
To heare 'im bawle as he were tickl'd,
Till night came on, and spoyl'd their sport,
then ev'ry one ith' barge did snort,
They lay like pigs spewing and yawning
At one another, till day dawning;

As soon as ere day 'gan to peep,
They shook their eares and out did creep,
And homewards did direct their barges,
Towards the Greeke camp which so large is,
Which when Apollo saw, cry'd he
All the wind in mine A--- goe w'ye;

Then up they hoys'd their sayles, and mast,
And the boat ran before the blast;
And all the way the waves before,
As the boat cut them through, did roare;
Thus comming to the Greeke camp wide,
They dragg'd the barge from reach of tide,
And propping it up from the water,
Amongst the tents themselves they scatter;

But all this while the sturdy son,
Of Peleus, who so fast could run,
Sate pouting close by his owne gally,
Nor forth against the foe did sally,
Nor ever stir'd he from his boat,
In the Court Martiall to vote;
But there he sate crying, and whining,
With very griefe his owne heart pining,
Looking as if he were bewitch'd,
And yet to fight his fingers itch'd.

Thus twelve dayes pass'd, till all the gods
With Jove return'd to their abodes,

Now in the meane time good-wife Thetis,
Bearing in mind her son's intreaties,
From the deeps bottome cut a caper
As nimble as any didaper,
And up the hill Olympus climes,
To breath her, in the morne betimes,
Where, from the rest apart, she spies
Saturnius with sawcer eyes,
On one oth' highest stumps alone,
(For on that hill is many a one)
She drawing her a joynt stooll nigh,
Tickl'd him gently on the thigh
With one hand, whilst to'ther did stroake him
Under the chin, then thus bespoke him;

Father, if ere in word or deed
You receiv'd help from me at need,
Fulfill my will, honor my boy,
Who among all that came to Troy

You have made shortest liv'd, beside his
Other misfortunes, now Atrides
Who governes every Græcian yeoman,
Hath rob'd him of's beloved lemman;
But thou, grave, prudent, heavenly, Iove,
Let me intreate thee of all love
To give the Trojans still the day,
Till all the Græcian Souldiers may
Repent of each abusive action
Th' have done, and offer satisfaction.

Thus when she had propos'd her suite
Cloudy Jove sate a good while mute;
And answering her not one whit,
He look'd as though h' had been be—
But Thetis kept fast hold of's knees,
And with her hands his leggs did squeeze,
And vow'd she never would let go
Till he had answer'd I or no,

Speake out, quoth she, nere muse upon't,
Tell me either you will or won't

Never fear me, of all the rest
I'me sure I'me she you care for least.

Then cloudy Jupiter, being vex'd
To th' very heart, spake these words next,
D'spretious, quoth he, 'twill be fowle worke,
Juno will rate me like a Turke,
Be ware of making bate among
Us, she, you know, hath a long tongue,
You know she's alwayes us'd to scold
At me, and saith I do up hold
The Trojans roysters in their villany,
And never let the Græcians kill any,
Get you gone, let her not perceive
That you have spoke to me, and leave
The rest to me, If what I've spoken
You do distrust, Ile give y' a token,
My nod, on that you may rely,
And cannot be deceived, for why?
From me that is the surest signe,
Nor is there any word mine,

If I but nodded when 'twas spoke,
That can be, or revers'd, or broke;

This said, he bends his beetle-browes,
And's greasie pate demurely bowes,
Thus, while too forward he enclin'd,
He could not so well hold behind,
And not being abl'his wind to containe,
He let a f--- that shook the mountaine,
Thus they; agreed upon the matter,
Parted, she rowl'd into the water
Downe high Olympus, Jupiter
Went in a doores, not minding her;
Whether as soon as he was come,
Ev'ry one, rising of his bum,
His children on a row did stand,
To welcome him with cap in hand,
Making a leg, nor did they dare
Do any other then stand bare,

While tow'rd his chaire he did passe by:
Then, by the leering cast of's eye
Juno perceiv'd (for she was jealous,
And knew he had been 'mongst good fellows)
That with some wench he had been private,
And such faults she would ne're connive at,
Yet could she not thinke with a p---
With whom, but Thetis ith' white socks
She guess'd at; for she was far yonger
Then her selfe, got by a fishmonger,
And when she could no longer hold,
Thus she at Jove began to scold;

Did I but know, thou crafty lecher,
What wench was with thee last, I'de teach her
To be so lusty, thou dost hide
What ere thou dost from me thy bride,
By thy good will I should know nought
Of what e're thou hast done or thought,

Then, on this wise, streight her good man
To make a grave reply began,

Quoth, he dame Juno, hold a blow,
Nere expect all I say to know,
For, though th' art the wife of my bosome,
T'shall scape me hard if ere thou know some,
But as for what becomes a woman
To know, beleeve me, there is no man
Shall sooner know't, but of occult
Businesse when I please to consult
In private, be not you to curious,
If you be: I shall be as furious.

Thus he had said, and lowred at her,
When Juno, with face broad as plater,
Perceiving him so touchy, cogged,
And made this answer, Lord, how dogged
You speak? when ere you have been busy'd, I've
Nere, as I know, been too inquisitive,
For me, you may consult at ease
O' Gods name about what you please,
Onely, at present, my fear great is
That you have been collogu'd by Thetis

The Oyster woman, who weares socks
whiter, for th' most part, then her smocks,
For I believe I might have seen
Her to day where I should have been,
Had I come early to your bed,
Besides, the nod of your grave head,
Or I'me deceiv'd, hath promis'd that
Forsooth to honour her base bratt,
You'l be content to run the hazard,
Of loosing thousand Græcians as hard.

Jove who makes clouds as black as pitch,
Answer'd, faith I think th' art a witch,
Of us thou alwayes art so jealous,
That from thine eyes naught can conceal us,
But all thy watching's of no force,
'Twill make me hate thee worse and worse,
And that you will repent d'ye see,
As for this business, it shall be,
If it please me to have it so,
Lets hear whether you dare say no,

Sit you downe houswife, and be quiet,
If I say ought, be you rul'd by it
Or else, who ere is on thy side,
Though Gods, I'le clapperclaw thy hide;

When broad-fac'd Juno had heard this,
She sate her downe as mute as fish,
And streight-ways down came her proud stomack,
On this, the Gods were all like to make
An uprore in the house, untill
Vulcan, a blacksmith full of skill,
That knew what pleasd his mother best,
Began this speech among the rest,

These pest'lent doings are intollerable,
Quoth he, that things which are so small, are able
To set us by th' ears, for these are things
That concerne men, not us two farthings,
If this trade hold, as I'me a sinner,
We had as good ne're come to dinner,

'Twill doe us no more good then bare ling,
If we can't eate it without snarling,
And, mother, pray let me perswade ye,
(Although they say y'are a wise lady)
To please and smooth my father up here,
That he mayn't scold, and spoyle our supper
For, if he will, this Thundrer can
Turn's all out, he's the better man;
But speak him fair, and call him hony,
You know good words doe cost no mony
Call him pigsny, chicken, and love,
He'l be as gentle as a glove,
He'l soon be pacify'd by cogging:
Whilst he said this, he fill'd a noggin:
Which, ending's speech, he gave to's mother,
And, while she dranke, began another,
Be not so sad, quoth he, beare up
Still mother, and take off your cup,
I love you well, I take my oath,
And therefore should be very loath

To see you wrong'd, but tis in vaine
For me, though I would nere so faine,
To thinke to rescue you from Ioue,
Tw'ere eene as good for me nere moue,
I know, by this my maymed limb
That there is noe incountring him,
For by my left leg once he caught
Me, I remember, when I sought
To set you free, won by your prayers,
And flung me headlong downe the stayers;
Twas a long fall, but, God be thanked,
At last I was caught in a blanket,
By honest men, whoever them knows,
That dwell in a place called Lemnos;
There lay I gasping, and like to dye,
With scarce any breath in my body,

Thus when h' had say'd, Iuno did sneere,
And bid her son fill out more beere,
Which he did, and gave it about
Into the hands of all the rout,

Which ev'ry one totally quaf't, e're
It came from's nose, but what a laughter
Did it afford, to see grim Vulcan
Deliver to each man his full can!
Thus did they sit, and cram, and eate,
All the day long untill sunset,
(You'le sweare their stomach's were set sharpe)
Apollo playing oth' welsh harpe,
Then in the nick as they were dining,
To them there came wassellers nine, in,
Who did, by turnes, and not at once all,
Sing ballads, each with a responsall;
Now one, then to'ther, put a word in,
Then all together sung the burden,
At sunset, with a giddy head,
Each of e'm reeled home to bed,
To that place where the famous hobler,
For he was bricklayer, and cobler,

As well as smith, of every trade)
For each of them a house had made,
And Ioue home to his owne bed crept,
Where he snor'd, and profoundly slept,
And with him lay Iuno his mate,
Rays'd from her Wicker chayre of state.

The second Rhapsody.

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,

100

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,

101

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,

102

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,

103

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,

104

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,

105

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

106

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?

107

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,

108

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,

109

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,

110

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

111

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,

112

'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,

113

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,

114

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.

115

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,

116

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,

117

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,

118

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,

119

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,

120

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.

[_]

The remnant of this Second Rhapsody, being onely a bead-roll of hard Names, was purposely left out.

The END.