LOGOMAXIA[Greek]: Or, The Conquest of Eloquence Containing Two Witty Orations, The First spoke by Ajax: The Second by Ulisses, when they Contested for Achilles's Armour, before the Nobles of Greece; a little before the Overthrow of Troy: As they may be Read, Ovid Metamorph. Lib. 13. Very Delectable and Necessary for Statesmen, Judges, Magistrates, Officers of War &c. to Read; and know how wrong Information guilded with Eloquence, may pervert Justice, and so learn to avoid the giving of rash Sentence, in any Case or Cause. By P. K. [i.e. Peter Ker] |
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 | LOGOMAXIA[Greek]: Or, The Conquest of Eloquence |  |
The Officers sat on the Ground,
The common Souldiers standing round;
Up-started Ajax brisk and bold,
Who bore the Buckler Seven-fold:
And being furious (with a Face
O'respread with Frowns in every place)
He with a stubborn look did stare
On Sygæum, and the Navy there.
And bending forth his Hands did say,
Good Jove! and all that's here to day!
Is't come to this? Must I contest,
With such a Rascal, who's the best?
In view of these our Ships, and see
Ulisses in the Scales with me?
He did not stick his Britch to turn,
And run when Hector strove to burn
Them into Ashes, but that I
Sustain'd the brunt, and forc'd him fly.
But 'tis more safe to scold with Words,
Than cuff with Fists, and fight with Swords.
My very Tongue is at a stand;
But he hath neither Heart nor Hand:
Yet whatsoe're I'm worth in Battle,
He countervails it, with his prattle.
But here I think it were in vain
To mention my Exploits again,
Which I perform'd before your Eyes,
(O Greeks) on every Enterprize.
But let Ulisses tell his own,
Which are to all (but Night) unknown.
The Prize is great for which we sue,
And I submit my Cause to you:
But it my Honour stains, to see
A Coward thus compeat with me.
Nor is't Ambition to obtain
A Thing Ulisses thought to gain,
Though cast, he'll steal the spoil away,
Of our Logomachy to Day.
He'll brag he strove (as well he can)
With Ajax for the better Man.
And if my Valour were in doubt,
My Pedegree could bear me out:
For Noble Birth I'll yield to none,
As being Son to Telamon;
Who under Hercules did make,
The stately Walls of Troy to shake;
And, with a flying pair of Oars,
Arrived safe on Colchi's Shores.
Now Eacus his Father was,
Who Sentence on the Dead doth pass.
Where Sisyphus doth rowl (in vain)
A Stone which tumbleth back again.
And Jupiter (it is well known)
Did Eacus for his Son own.
Thus I'm (though ballenc'd with this Elf)
But Three Degrees from Jove himself.
And let my reckoning thus (I pray)
Avail me nothing here to day;
If brave Achilles did not own
What I before you (Greeks) have shown.
He was my Brother, I pursue
For no more than's a Brother's due:
Thou Brood of Sisyphus, like him,
In Theft and Fraud, of whom thou'rt come;
How dar'st thou have the brazen Face,
(That's Stranger to Achille's Race,
And Country too) thus be so rude,
As on my Interest to intrude?
Is it because my worth is such
As never was put to the touch;
But without grudge at first did come,
At the first Call, and beat of Drum;
And Arms did take, that these should be
Unjustly now kept back from me?
And shall he who did take Arms last
Be, therefore, now reputed best,
Who did at first the War but scoff,
And with feign'd Madness shift it off;
Till Palamed (more wise than he)
Found out the Coward's Fallacy,
And did (tho to his loss and pain)
Even force him to his Arms again.
Now let him take (whate'er befal)
The best, who would have none at all.
Let us be slighted, frustrat too
Of Cousin's, Goods, which must be due;
Since we at first, without all fear,
Sustain'd the dangers of the War.
I wish he had been real mad,
Or still reputed so, then had
Not my Companion (who exhorts
To Baseness) seen the Phrygian Forts:
Neither had Philoctetes thou
Expos'd been unto Lemnos now;
Where thou, in vain, dost waste thy time,
By our Persuasions, made thy Crime;
Block'd up in Caves, where thy sad Groans,
The Rocks, and Ecchoing Hills bemoanes;
Wishing Ulisses may inherit
The just Reward which he doth merit.
I Pray the Gods (if Gods they be)
May thy Petition grant to thee.
Alas our Fellow Souldier sworn
To Grecian Colour, by us born,
Who by Succession useth now
Alcide's Shafts, and Quiver too;
Being hunger-starv'd, and broke with pain,
Doth Hunt and Fowl, that he may gain
His Living, with the Darts and Bow,
Which do portend Troy's overthrow.
And yet he lives a sorry Life,
Freed from Ulysse's fraud and strife.
Now I could wish, at any rate,
This had been Palamede's Fate:
For whether he had liv'd or not,
He had not left us such a blot;
For that base Knave kept in his mind,
How he's feign'd Madness out did find:
And falsly, in revenge, did say,
That he the Grecians did betray,
For Gold, which in his Tent he shew;
Though Palamedes nothing knew
Thereof; for that Son of a Whore
Had digg'd it there, a while before.
Thus he by Banishment, or Death,
His aid to Grecians doth bequeath.
This way to fight he's only able,
Thus is Ulysses formidable:
For though he, with a York-Shire-ho,
Could honest Nestor overthrow;
Yet in deserting that Old Man,
Without Relief, he never can
(For all that he can prate and say)
With Wind bals wipe the stain away.
For why the poor decripid Sot,
(Whose Horse could neither Jog nor Trot)
Implor'd Ulisses for supply;
But like a Coward he did fly,
And sneak away, just like a Thief,
Leaving his Friend, without Relief.
Think not I brand him with a lie,
Tydides can this Testifie;
Who did upbraid, and call again
The Coward, but it was in vain.
But Justice freely did design
To pay the Coward in his coin.
He wanted help, who would give none;
As he did leave, he's left alone.
He made the Law, when he did call
His Fellow Souldiers; none at all
Did pity him, till only I
Did see the Coward trembling lie:
His Face for fear, was pale and white,
And fear of Death had made him S---
I, covering him, did interpose
My Target, 'twixt him and his Foes.
I brag not, tho you plainly see,
The Coward holds his Life of me.
But if thou dar'st thus to contest,
Which of us two in War is best;
Let us return into the Field,
And see which of us two will yield.
Call back our Foes, mind how I found
Thee Speechless, groveling on the ground.
Think on thy Wound, thy cowardly mind;
Then Fight, or rather lurk behind
Thy Target; that these Greeks may see
The most deserving, thee or me.
But mind, he who could hardly stand
(Disabl'd more in Heart than Hand)
As soon as I did set him free,
Did instantly begin to flee,
And run (for nothing did him ail)
As twenty had been at his Tail.
Then furious Hector, in a fry,
Came, in the twinkling of an eye,
Thinking to be without resistance,
Brought Jove along for his assistance:
And wheresoe'er he rushing ran,
He frightned every valiant Man:
Not only 'Lysse's cowardly mind,
(Whose Valour but consists in Wind.)
Till I, whilst he did brag and boast,
Of his Massacring our Host;
Did with a Stone (which did rebound)
Quite knock him down upon the ground.
Thus I, o'rcame, with much to do,
Both Jupiter and Hector too.
And when he, challenging, did boast,
That we had not, in all our Host,
A Champion, who could take his Arms,
And deal with him in equal terms;
I took him up, whilst you did pray
For me the triumph of the day.
And if you farther please to pry
In what was done, I did not fly.
Consider how the Trojans brought
Both Fire and Sword, with Jove, and thought
To burn our Fleet, and kill our Men,
(But where was Mouth-Ulisses then?)
This Breast of mine did harmless save
A thousand Ships, for which I crave
These Arms here, my reward to be,
For all the Navy due to me.
Had they by Hector all been burn'd,
By what means could we have return'd?
If I be free to speak my mind,
But weigh the matter, and you'll find,
By my obtaining my demand,
(Which Justice cannot well withstand)
Unto the Arms (as all may see)
More Honour doth redound than me:
Yea, Credit both and Honour too,
It contributes to them and you.
Thus Ajax begs no Arms, but they
For me Pettion, beg and pray.
Let Ithacus compare with these.
His Deeds of all-deserving praise,
How he did Rhesu's Plots prevent,
And kill'd him cowardly in his Tent.
And silly Dolon overthrew,
When he our Camp came but to view:
And Priam's Helenus did slay;
And Palla's Image stole away.
All his Exploits are done at night,
The Sun scarce ever saw him fight.
No success he or fortune had,
But when he went with Diomed.
Now if such simple Acts of Praise
(For hire) deserve such Arms as these,
Let them devided be in two;
For most to Diomede is due.
But tell me pray, on what Account
Can base Ulysse's deeds amount,
To such deserts? Who slily goes,
Thief-like unarm'd, to trap his Foes.
The glistering Helmet, bright like Gold
Will his trapanning slight unfold;
And he'll be catched in the Snare,
Which he for others doth prepare.
Achille's Head-peice will weigh down
Ulysse's round Dulichian Crown:
His feeble Arms will neither bear,
Nor weild the great Achille's Spear.
The stately Shield, which represents
The little World, in Linaments,
To Hang will certainly repine,
On such a Thevish Arm as thine.
Poor simple Fellow, dost thou know
That thou beg'st thine own overthrow?
For if the Errour of the Greeks,
Should grant thee this which now thou seeks,
It would give no offence at all
Unto thy Foes; but work thy fall.
The Trailing Logage in the Night,
Will make thee lazie in thy flight:
The only means that Coward thou
Dost use the Trojans to subdue.
And, furthermore, thou hast a Shield
That's whole, and searce e'er fac'd the Field.
But mine (as all my Hearers knows)
Is sadly damnifi'd with blows.
In equal terms it oft pursu'd
Our Foes, and now would be renew'd.
These Words but new Contention breeds,
Pray let us have a touch at Deeds:
Take brave Achille's Arms, and fling them
Among our Foes, and see who'll bring them.
The common Souldiers standing round;
Up-started Ajax brisk and bold,
Who bore the Buckler Seven-fold:
And being furious (with a Face
O'respread with Frowns in every place)
He with a stubborn look did stare
On Sygæum, and the Navy there.
And bending forth his Hands did say,
Good Jove! and all that's here to day!
Is't come to this? Must I contest,
With such a Rascal, who's the best?
In view of these our Ships, and see
Ulisses in the Scales with me?
He did not stick his Britch to turn,
And run when Hector strove to burn
Them into Ashes, but that I
Sustain'd the brunt, and forc'd him fly.
But 'tis more safe to scold with Words,
Than cuff with Fists, and fight with Swords.
My very Tongue is at a stand;
But he hath neither Heart nor Hand:
7
He countervails it, with his prattle.
But here I think it were in vain
To mention my Exploits again,
Which I perform'd before your Eyes,
(O Greeks) on every Enterprize.
But let Ulisses tell his own,
Which are to all (but Night) unknown.
The Prize is great for which we sue,
And I submit my Cause to you:
But it my Honour stains, to see
A Coward thus compeat with me.
Nor is't Ambition to obtain
A Thing Ulisses thought to gain,
Though cast, he'll steal the spoil away,
Of our Logomachy to Day.
He'll brag he strove (as well he can)
With Ajax for the better Man.
And if my Valour were in doubt,
My Pedegree could bear me out:
For Noble Birth I'll yield to none,
As being Son to Telamon;
Who under Hercules did make,
The stately Walls of Troy to shake;
And, with a flying pair of Oars,
Arrived safe on Colchi's Shores.
Now Eacus his Father was,
Who Sentence on the Dead doth pass.
Where Sisyphus doth rowl (in vain)
A Stone which tumbleth back again.
8
Did Eacus for his Son own.
Thus I'm (though ballenc'd with this Elf)
But Three Degrees from Jove himself.
And let my reckoning thus (I pray)
Avail me nothing here to day;
If brave Achilles did not own
What I before you (Greeks) have shown.
He was my Brother, I pursue
For no more than's a Brother's due:
Thou Brood of Sisyphus, like him,
In Theft and Fraud, of whom thou'rt come;
How dar'st thou have the brazen Face,
(That's Stranger to Achille's Race,
And Country too) thus be so rude,
As on my Interest to intrude?
Is it because my worth is such
As never was put to the touch;
But without grudge at first did come,
At the first Call, and beat of Drum;
And Arms did take, that these should be
Unjustly now kept back from me?
And shall he who did take Arms last
Be, therefore, now reputed best,
Who did at first the War but scoff,
And with feign'd Madness shift it off;
Till Palamed (more wise than he)
Found out the Coward's Fallacy,
And did (tho to his loss and pain)
Even force him to his Arms again.
9
The best, who would have none at all.
Let us be slighted, frustrat too
Of Cousin's, Goods, which must be due;
Since we at first, without all fear,
Sustain'd the dangers of the War.
I wish he had been real mad,
Or still reputed so, then had
Not my Companion (who exhorts
To Baseness) seen the Phrygian Forts:
Neither had Philoctetes thou
Expos'd been unto Lemnos now;
Where thou, in vain, dost waste thy time,
By our Persuasions, made thy Crime;
Block'd up in Caves, where thy sad Groans,
The Rocks, and Ecchoing Hills bemoanes;
Wishing Ulisses may inherit
The just Reward which he doth merit.
I Pray the Gods (if Gods they be)
May thy Petition grant to thee.
Alas our Fellow Souldier sworn
To Grecian Colour, by us born,
Who by Succession useth now
Alcide's Shafts, and Quiver too;
Being hunger-starv'd, and broke with pain,
Doth Hunt and Fowl, that he may gain
His Living, with the Darts and Bow,
Which do portend Troy's overthrow.
And yet he lives a sorry Life,
Freed from Ulysse's fraud and strife.
10
This had been Palamede's Fate:
For whether he had liv'd or not,
He had not left us such a blot;
For that base Knave kept in his mind,
How he's feign'd Madness out did find:
And falsly, in revenge, did say,
That he the Grecians did betray,
For Gold, which in his Tent he shew;
Though Palamedes nothing knew
Thereof; for that Son of a Whore
Had digg'd it there, a while before.
Thus he by Banishment, or Death,
His aid to Grecians doth bequeath.
This way to fight he's only able,
Thus is Ulysses formidable:
For though he, with a York-Shire-ho,
Could honest Nestor overthrow;
Yet in deserting that Old Man,
Without Relief, he never can
(For all that he can prate and say)
With Wind bals wipe the stain away.
For why the poor decripid Sot,
(Whose Horse could neither Jog nor Trot)
Implor'd Ulisses for supply;
But like a Coward he did fly,
And sneak away, just like a Thief,
Leaving his Friend, without Relief.
Think not I brand him with a lie,
Tydides can this Testifie;
11
The Coward, but it was in vain.
But Justice freely did design
To pay the Coward in his coin.
He wanted help, who would give none;
As he did leave, he's left alone.
He made the Law, when he did call
His Fellow Souldiers; none at all
Did pity him, till only I
Did see the Coward trembling lie:
His Face for fear, was pale and white,
And fear of Death had made him S---
I, covering him, did interpose
My Target, 'twixt him and his Foes.
I brag not, tho you plainly see,
The Coward holds his Life of me.
But if thou dar'st thus to contest,
Which of us two in War is best;
Let us return into the Field,
And see which of us two will yield.
Call back our Foes, mind how I found
Thee Speechless, groveling on the ground.
Think on thy Wound, thy cowardly mind;
Then Fight, or rather lurk behind
Thy Target; that these Greeks may see
The most deserving, thee or me.
But mind, he who could hardly stand
(Disabl'd more in Heart than Hand)
As soon as I did set him free,
Did instantly begin to flee,
12
As twenty had been at his Tail.
Then furious Hector, in a fry,
Came, in the twinkling of an eye,
Thinking to be without resistance,
Brought Jove along for his assistance:
And wheresoe'er he rushing ran,
He frightned every valiant Man:
Not only 'Lysse's cowardly mind,
(Whose Valour but consists in Wind.)
Till I, whilst he did brag and boast,
Of his Massacring our Host;
Did with a Stone (which did rebound)
Quite knock him down upon the ground.
Thus I, o'rcame, with much to do,
Both Jupiter and Hector too.
And when he, challenging, did boast,
That we had not, in all our Host,
A Champion, who could take his Arms,
And deal with him in equal terms;
I took him up, whilst you did pray
For me the triumph of the day.
And if you farther please to pry
In what was done, I did not fly.
Consider how the Trojans brought
Both Fire and Sword, with Jove, and thought
To burn our Fleet, and kill our Men,
(But where was Mouth-Ulisses then?)
This Breast of mine did harmless save
A thousand Ships, for which I crave
13
For all the Navy due to me.
Had they by Hector all been burn'd,
By what means could we have return'd?
If I be free to speak my mind,
But weigh the matter, and you'll find,
By my obtaining my demand,
(Which Justice cannot well withstand)
Unto the Arms (as all may see)
More Honour doth redound than me:
Yea, Credit both and Honour too,
It contributes to them and you.
Thus Ajax begs no Arms, but they
For me Pettion, beg and pray.
Let Ithacus compare with these.
His Deeds of all-deserving praise,
How he did Rhesu's Plots prevent,
And kill'd him cowardly in his Tent.
And silly Dolon overthrew,
When he our Camp came but to view:
And Priam's Helenus did slay;
And Palla's Image stole away.
All his Exploits are done at night,
The Sun scarce ever saw him fight.
No success he or fortune had,
But when he went with Diomed.
Now if such simple Acts of Praise
(For hire) deserve such Arms as these,
Let them devided be in two;
For most to Diomede is due.
14
Can base Ulysse's deeds amount,
To such deserts? Who slily goes,
Thief-like unarm'd, to trap his Foes.
The glistering Helmet, bright like Gold
Will his trapanning slight unfold;
And he'll be catched in the Snare,
Which he for others doth prepare.
Achille's Head-peice will weigh down
Ulysse's round Dulichian Crown:
His feeble Arms will neither bear,
Nor weild the great Achille's Spear.
The stately Shield, which represents
The little World, in Linaments,
To Hang will certainly repine,
On such a Thevish Arm as thine.
Poor simple Fellow, dost thou know
That thou beg'st thine own overthrow?
For if the Errour of the Greeks,
Should grant thee this which now thou seeks,
It would give no offence at all
Unto thy Foes; but work thy fall.
The Trailing Logage in the Night,
Will make thee lazie in thy flight:
The only means that Coward thou
Dost use the Trojans to subdue.
And, furthermore, thou hast a Shield
That's whole, and searce e'er fac'd the Field.
But mine (as all my Hearers knows)
Is sadly damnifi'd with blows.
15
Our Foes, and now would be renew'd.
These Words but new Contention breeds,
Pray let us have a touch at Deeds:
Take brave Achille's Arms, and fling them
Among our Foes, and see who'll bring them.
| LOGOMAXIA[Greek]: Or, The Conquest of Eloquence | |