Homer A la Mode. A MOCK POEM UPON THE FIRST, AND SECOND BOOKS OF HOMER'S ILIADS.  

Hoc ridere meum tam nil nullâ tibi vendo  
Iliad.——  
Et sua riserunt tempora Maeoniden.   

— One for Sense, and one for Rhyme,  
I thinks sufficient at one time.   HUDIBR. 
OXFORD, Printed by H. H. for Ric. Davis. 1664.   

Homer a la mode.   

To the Reader.  
BEcause it was thought too difficult to Print so much Greek as was requisite, And too mean to print the Latin Translation; The Learned Reader, that thinketh it worth his while to observe the correspondence betwixt this Translation and the Text, is desired to compare them, as well for the Illustration of the one, as the other: Further, by way of Preface, HOMER, though dressed in the new mode, will only beg a favourable censure in his old tone,  
Good People pity the blind.   

ERRATA.  
Some faults have slipped the Press, and would have done, had Homer himself been Corrector, therefore the Reader is desired to mend, or pardon, these that follow, and as many more as he can find.  
P. 17. l. ●. blot out mind. 24. l. 1. r. asks. l. 19 r. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. p. 47. l, 13. for a r. the. p. 67. l. 3. blot out to. etc.   

Homer A la Mode.  
The Argument.  

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

COme on, strike up thou rhyming Goddess,  
And sing me, in some blithe Rhapsodies,  
Achilles his unlucky fury;  
Which, as the sequel may assure ye,  
Did bring upon the Grecians, double  
Four 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 Soul down to old Nick,  
Which, hash't before by Mars his cooks,  
Made treats for mastiff dogs and rooks;  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  (For no man living dares say no  
When crosse-grained Jove will have it so)  
Since first Agamemnon 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the General,  
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 appears,  
Set these two swabbers by the ears?  
Who but Latona and Jove's 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 harmless people Kicked up heels like rotten sheep,   

The means how this did come about,  
That with Apollo he fell out,  
Was this; Apollo had a Flamen  
Who used in's Temple to cry Amen,  
For th' present think one of our sextons,  
This fellow Agamemnon vexed once,  
Coming to pay his Daughter's ransom,  
For (to say truth) the Girl was handsome,  
He brought along with him rare gifts,  
Knowing the Soldiers wanted shifts,  
He came well stocked with Canvas suits,  
Good lockram shirts, and well vamped Boots,  
Besides, for Food, Biscuit 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 Apollo's Sceptre,  
With him there came another carl, and  
Bore after him the parish Garland,  
That Garland which did hang before  
Over Apollo's Chancel door,  
Thus coming to the Grecian Navy,  
He doffed his Cap, and cried God save ye  
To all the Greeks, to each Atrideses  
Specially, who the people's guide is,  
Then tilting down's head, up his breech,  
He thus began to make a Speech,   

Right worshipful, you both Atridae,  
And those that sit o'th' bench beside ye,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  You throng of Grecians altogether,  
Whose Boots are made of good Neat's Leather,  
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 Daughter,  
Accepting what I humbly offer,  
Brought hither out of my Wife's Coffer,  
Herein you shall Apollo reverence,  
And make him of your party ever hence.   

As soon as all the Soldiers heard it,  
For Chryses straight they gave their verdict,  
For the poor varlets mouths did water  
More at his trinkets then his Daughter,  
And therefore thought fit to respect  
The Priest, and not his gifts reject,  
Only, amongst them all, Agam-  
Memnon began to curse and dam,  
And, ceasing not to rant and swear,  
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 i'll spoil you for a ringer,  
If any longer here you linger,  
If e'er you come again toth' Navy,  
You'll find your Sceptre will not save ye,  
If ever here again you dare land,  
You'll find no favour for your Garland,  
As for the Wench, I'll not part with her  
Till age hath rendered 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,  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—  But there shall wove bonelace and garters,  
And with me tumble shall in the straw  
Oftener than my wife Clytaemnestra,  
Therefore begun, 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,  
Marched silently along the shore,  
But all the way, in woeful postures  

b— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  He muttered 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 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  walk the rounds,  
O thou which Scylla guardest ever,  
And Tenedos, with silver quiver,  
Thou heavenly 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  rat-catcher, if ere  
I'th' temple I made thee good cheer,  
Or have e'er fling 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, prayed this great old lubberd,  
The chinks in's cheeks with tears all blubbered,  
Apollo hears him and forth put's  
From high Olympus vexed at guts,  
His Bow in rage he strait fling over  
His Back, and's Quiver 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with close cover,  
And as he went his angry Arrows  
Rumbled, as if th' had been wheel-barrows,  
Pulling his Cap down o'er his face,  
He stole in a night walkers pace,  
He came, and sat behind the boats,  
Drew's bow, and cried have at your coats.  
Strait a broad arrow he let go,  
Twang says the string of's Silver Bow,  
All his first shoots 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, believe me Sirs,  
Did light among the fisting Curs.   

Thus of the beasts having made havoke,  
He turned his javelins against the folk,  
And from among them forthwith flies one  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Whose forked head was dipped in poison,  
Which went directly as a line,  
This trade continued whole days nine,  
And all this while, I can assure you, all  
That died, could scarce get decent burial,  
Some they were feign to burn like witches,  
Others were thrown by heaps 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 gizzard,  
I'th' midst of all their warlike hurrying,  
To see the Grecians die o'th' muraine,  
Then thus, as soon as all the commons  
Were met according to their summons,  
Achilles, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  nimble as any lackey,  
Starts up amongst them, and thus spoke 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 Soldiers, on my word,  
Can't long hold out 'gainst plague, and sword.  
In all our camp they'll 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 extremes,  
(For dreams from Jupiter are sent,)  
So may we know Phaebus' intent  
Or what a pox should be the matter  
Why he this plague 'mongst us should scatter,  
Whether it be cause we did fail him  
In paying our vows, or what should ay'le him,  
Or else whether the reason lies  
In our default of sacrifice,  
Or whether he'll be reconciled  
With th' steam of mutton roast, or boiled,  
Or if he'll cure us of this pox  
For the choice Kids in all our flocks,  
Thus, having ended his fair speech,  
He sat him down again on's breech,   

Who starts me up when he had done?  
But cunning Calchas, Thestor's Son,  
Well wots he whatsoever birds spoke,  
Whether Owls hoop, or Ravens croak,  
Nor did he only understand  
Things that were present, and at hand,  
But that which was to be anon,  
And what passed thousand years ago,  
When first the Grecians hoist up sail  
For Troy town, in their coats of Male,  
Then this wise Calchas was their Pilot,  
Which office fell not to him by lot,  
But was conferred upon his merit,  
'Cause he had a familiar spirit,   

This fortune-teller, thus endowed  
As hath been said, mannerly bowed,  
Then said, Darling of Jove, Achilles,  
You bid me say what Phoebus' will is,  
Which I'll perform, but first d'ye here,  
I'll make you promise me, and swear  
That you'll stand by me, and assist  
What e'er I say with your clutched fist,  
And that you'll hearty encourage,  
And keep me safe from threatening, or rage,  
What e'er I say you must avouch,  
For I believe, my words will touch  
To th' very quick some great commander,  
(And yet I swear they are no slander)  
And that you knows as bad, or worse,  
Then currying a galled horse,  
For why? you know, a captain's more  
Powerful when vexed, then e'er before,  
And though he for the present smother  
His rage perhaps, yet at some other  
Time 'twill break out, when e'er a suiting  
Occasion comes fort's executing,  
When e'er he finds the other armless,  
Then tell me, wilt thou save me harmless?   

Then spoke Achilles swift of pace,  
Fear not, (quoth he) take heart of grace,  
What e'er thou hast to say, be't best or  
worst, speak it out thou son of Thestor,  
I swear by Phoebus' great Jove's darling,  
Thou shalt not need fear any snarling,  
Whilst 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 sayest Agamemnon,  
Who (and good reason for't) doth boast  
Himself Commander of the host   

Then the harmless wizard began to take  
A good heart to him, and thus spoke,  
'Tis not for breaking of engagement,  
That Phoebus is in this inragement,  
Nor doth he to this plague us doom  
Because he wants a Hecatomb,  
But 'tis because Agamemnon  
In scorn bid Chryses get him gone,  
And neither took the gifts he brought here,  
Nor yet would give him back his Daughter,  
Therefore e'er since this 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  cunning Archer  
Hath been as mad as any March Hare,  
And hitherto hath laid plagues on  
Us, and resolves ne'er to have done  
Till we the black-eyed Girl restore,  
And set her down at her Dad's door,  
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 reconciled   

When he had said thus, he sat down;  
Then, shewing's anger in a frown,  
Agamemnon risen, (or he belied is)  
Who by his Surname height Atrides,  
He swelled, and then looked black with Ire,  

b— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  His eyes cast sparks like charcoal fire;  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Then first he furiously did blink on  
Calchas, like the Devil o'er Lincoln;  
Then thus belpake him, ne'er had I  
From thy mouth yet good Prophecy,  
Thou damnable, unlucky, villainous,  
Wizard, thou lov'st still to speak ill on us,  
Thou only dost contention breed,  
Never speakest good word, nor dost good deed,  
And now you tell the Greeks  found,  
Whilst 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 than I do my lawful Wise,  
For better huswise ne'er trod leather,  
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,  
With all my heart I'll let her go,  
For who can help it? I had rather  
Save my own troop, than my own father,  
I'll give consent, and ne'er ask why so,  
But always making this proviso,  
Neighbours, I should be very sorry  
To lose 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 quit her for the public ends,  
The public must make me amends.   

Achilles, footed like a dancer,  
Starts up, and makes him straight this answer,  
Quoth he, Ambitions Atrides  
Thy greedy mind mind ne'er satisfied is,  
Such Avarice was never heard on,  
How should the Greeks' give thee a guerdon?  
Doth any man know, with a pocks,  
What thou'dst have? 've no common stocks,  
What ere from Cities we have plundered,  
Divided is 'mongst many a hundred,  
Dost think any will leave his share on't?  
There's no such fools 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 girls are gained  
You'll not repent you have thus bargained,  
For her we'll give rich interest  
In three or four more of the best,  
As soon as Jove will let's destroy  
This paltry mudwalled burough Troy,   

Then Agamemnon began to make him  
Answer to this, and thus bespoke 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 life's here below,  
Think not that thus thou shall me Coke,  
And bore my nose, like john a Nokes;  
Though th' art the bravest of thy inches  
 ne'er over reach me with thy clinches;  
whilst thou art furnished with females,  
Should I sit down and suck my nails?  
You bid me let my Doxy go,  
But first I must know whither or no  
The lusty Grecians will bind  
Themselves to fit me to my mind  
With some one else, and 'tis but right  
But if in casé you all deny't,  
I'll take a girl where ere I list  
And let me see who dares resist,  
Thine, or Ulysses, or Ajax,  
As sure as the coats on your backs,  
To lose his girl I know it would  
Vex any, but I must make bold;  
But of this we'll discourse here a'ter,  
At present lets draw down to th' water  
A lighter used to carry seacoal,  
Whose pitchy backs as black as the coal;  
In it let's place some lusty barge men,  
Such as amongst us are most large men,  
With them the Hecatomb when she is  
Ready to launch forth, bring Chryseis,  
Then let a Steersman go aboard her,  
The waryest our camp can afford her,  
Ajax, or else Idomeneus,  
Or, if they both desire excuse,  
Leted be Ulysses; if his will is  
To stay at home; go thou Achilles,   


* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Who hast such dreadful goggle eyes,  
For us to Phoebus' sacrifice,   

Lightfoot Achilles twice or thrice  
Stared at him like a cockatrice,  
Then spoke, (pausing a little while)  
Thou bundle of impudence and guile,  
How canst thou entertain a thought,  
That ere the Grecians should be brought  
By virtue of command from you,  
To charge the foe, or lie perdue?  
Dost think that I come for my own  
Interest to besiege Troy town?  
Or charge their pikemen? by the mass  
On my ground they did ne'er trespass,  
They never with me played the thiefs,  
Or stole my horses, or my beefs,  
Nor ere in Phthye (whose rich pastures  
With good increase doth feed their masters,)  
Came they i'th' dead of dark night creeping,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  To rob my orchards of one pippin,  
Or jennet moil; the reason's plain,  
Because betwixt them lies the main,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Ditches and banks on which are thick set  
Crabtrees, and poignant thorns of quickset:  
The cause that did to Troy town draw us,  
Was to right wronged Menelaus,  
Only to please the mind, Jove knows,  
Of that good man, 
† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and you dogs nose:  
But all our service is forgot,  
Our courtesy you value not,  
But swear you'll rob me of my hire,  
Which I'm sure I got out o'th' fire,  
And since it was the Grecians gift,  
To keep it, I shall make a shift,  
I'm sure with you I shan't part stakes,  
When ere the Grecian army takes  
Troy town, this little tidy ham,  
As full of men as ere't can cram,  
And yet though th'wars continue an age,  
Most part of them my hands must manage,  
When we come to divide the spoil,  
Thou always taken▪ st a huge great pile,  
But if I get a little heap,  
'tis all that e'er my labours reap,  
For which I'm thankful, and go merry  
With it along to my own whery,  
But now I bid you all God bye ye,  
For my part I'll go home to Phthie,  
There I'll stay with my Sea-coal lighters,  
And ne'er think of the Grecian fighters,  
For truly I think that's far better,  
Without me little can you get here:  
You never shall again disparage  
Me, with your unmannerly carriage.  
Agamemnon's Captain of the Rout  
Answered, marry if y'are so stout,  
With all my heart, I faith, be jogging,  
I'll never call you back by cogging,  
Here are sufficient copyholders  
Tenants of mine, are as good Soldiers,  
That honour me, and call me Landlord,  
Besides Jove our preserver, and Lord;  
These are on my side, and no dastards,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  I hate thee more than all Jove's bastards;  
thou'rt quarrelsome, and lov'st a life  
To be at th'end of every strife,  
What though at football thou giv'st odds  
To all the Parish, thank the gods,  
Here I've no great need of your aid,  
Go home and look thee a comrade,  
Command thy Myrmedons, aboard  
Thy Scullers, and there play the Lord,  
Thy anger I not value do  
More than the dirt under my shoe,  
And since thou art so peremptory,  
I'll tell thee e'en the down right story,  
Since Phoebus ask ' my concubine,  
I'll send her in a boat of mine,  
Besides two or three of my men  
I'll send along with her, but then  
I'll come myself as sure as she is  
Alive, and take away Bryseis,  
She whose cheeks are as red as cherries,  
And bring her home in my own wheries,  
From thy tent, whereby thou shall know  
That I am none of thy fellow,  
And this I'll do that others may  
By an example learn t' obey,  
And tremble ever to outbrave  
Me, as thou dost, thou saucy knave,   

This when Achilles heard, a sadness  
Seized him, he could have cried for madness;  
Whilst he be thought him what was best,  
His heart nigh brake in's shaggy breast,  
He'd feign have drawn his trusty dudgeon,  
And been the death of that cormudgion,  
Because he talked to him so surly,  
But that he feared 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 foul 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 scurf, and itch  
Who loved 'em dearly both) but a lass  
That lived with her, whose name was Pallas;  
She striking him two or three wherets  
O'th' ears, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—  took hold of's bunch of carrots,  
Her shape seen only by Pelides,  
By none of all the rest espied is,  
Achilles wondered who should be  
So bold, and turned about to see,  
And staring at her, straight her knew,  
Although she looked then deadly skew,  
And Bawling at her, these words uttered,  
As swift as if his tongue were buttered.   

Daughter of Jove 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  that of Goat's leather  
Wears doublets what wind brought thee hither?  
Art come to testify the slander  
Thrown on me by Atrides yonder  
I'll 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 blear eyed Pallas,  
Art mad? What, dost not fear the gallows?  
My dame, which too well loves you all,  
Hath sent me to compose this brawl,  
I'm 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 rascal him all day,  
For this I tell you, and 'tis true,  
This combat he shall dearly rue,  
He shall e'er long be put to's shifts,  
And court you with three times these gifts,  
Prithee therefore put up thy tool,  
say thou were't once ruled by a fool,  
Then said Achilles' light of feet,  
If she command me, than so be it,  
we must of force obey old wives  
Needs must he go the Devil drives,  
Though I were vexed, and ne'er so bold,  
I dare not strike when she bids hold,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  I know if I be ruled by thee,  
Thou'lt do as much again for me,  
This said,  any blood was spilt,  
He put his fist in's basket hilt,  
To th' scabbard that did it in viron  
He thrust again his fight Iron.   

When Pallas saw't, she took her flight  
A stride a cowlstaff, out of sight,  
And straight, before one could have missed her,  
She was, where she had many a sister,  
That sat in Jove's house daily working,  
That Jove that wears a goat's skin jerkin,  
Mean 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 persuade  
Thee to lie in an ambuscade  
Nor ever will thy faint heart yield  
To put on armour for the field,  
YE had rather live on what you pillage,  
By these dog-tricks, from your own village,  
Forsooth if any contradict  
You, straight his pockets must be picked,  
'tis forty pitties th' hast such power  
Thy poor dragoons thus to devour  
But, for my part, I tell you playne  
You ne'er shall rail at me again.   

But this I say, and if I took,  
To it my oath upon a book,  
I should not be forsworn, I swear  
By this commanding club I bear,  

*— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  This club that: ne'er again shall bring  
Forth blosomes, for 'twas cut last spring  
Out of the Copse where't grew before,  
And now 'tis dayntyly gilded o'er,  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—  Borne by a Grecian Constable,  
To keep the peace among the rabble,  
And yet I tell you that's an oath  
To break which I'd be very loath,  
I swear, and I will ne'er draw back,  
That when the Greeks my aid do lack,  
Which will be shortly, I conjecture,  
When they fall into ' th' hands of Hector;  
Then thou in vain shalt fret at heart,  
And fret thou shalt still for my part,  
Then wilt thou rue the time and place  
Where thou the stoutest Greek didst disgrace.   

So when he had said, he did doff his  
Cap, and 
* 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—    fling down his staff of office,  
On which the badge, and name o'th' town  
Was writ in gold, besides his own,   

And sat him down upon his bum,  
When straightway with a hawk and hum,  
To clear his cough, there risen up aged  
Nestor (the while Atrides raged)  
Well-spoken Nestor, 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  from whose chaps  
Flowed honey words as fast as hops,  
He was Pylian, and had boar  
All offices i'th' parish o'er:  

b 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    Two years together he had taken  
On him the keeping o'th' Church-Book,  
In which he faithfully writ down  
Those that were born, and died i'th' town,  
And that year, lest th' accounts should err,  
He was the third time register;  
This yeoman mongst them up did rise,  
And made this preachment grave and wise,   

God's bobs, quoth he, how great a sorrow  
Will this bring all the parish through!  
This will make Priamus rejoice,  
And with him all his Trojan boys,  
He'll be at heart glad, when he hears  
You're fallen together by the ears,  
You Sir that are the Grecks conductor,  
And you that are their grave instructor;  
Leave off, and be ruled by me rather,  
I'm 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 despised  
To do the thing that I advised;  
And no disparagement, I may say  
You shan't see in a summer's day  
Such as Pirithous, and Dry as  
The shepherd, that lived 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 Jove's Son, Polyphemus;  
And Theseus, of whom we come short all  
You would have sworn he had been immortal,  
These were stout men as ere were borne;  
Or that ere eat bread made of corn,  
And though I say't, many a hard battle  
They fought in fields with neighbour's cattle;  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  And butchered them in cruel manners,  
And after sold their hides to tanner's,  
I of this gang for some short while was,  
When I did travel out of Pylus;  
And, lest the hue and cry should seize us,  
We trudged out of Peloponesus,  
Then did I, as well as I could;  
Rob pastures for my livelihood,  
They took me with them at the first;  
No man lived in those days that durst  
Fight with these kilcows, and yet they  
What I advised would still obey,  
Do as these men did then, pray do Sirs,  
By my advice you'll be no loser's,  
And though you, Agamemnon, may,  
Pray do not take the wench away,  
Prithee for my sake let him have her,  
Because to him the Grecians gave her,  
To give a thing and take a thing  
You know is the Devil's gold ring,  
And you, Achilles, pray forbear  
Against the General to swear,  
How can you think your honour even  
With his, which is bestowed by heaven?  
'Tis jove hath given him his place,  
In sign of which he bears a mace,  
What though  a good pedigree?  
And are a lusty fellow? he  
Must take place of you, and that duly,  
He is your general, and must rule ye,  
And many more; for you, Atrides,  
Soon as your anger pacified is,  
Achilles I shall reconcile,  
And put an end to his mad coil,  
For▪ in this war, without a brag,  
He's the best pear in all our bag,   

Thus Nestor gave in his opinion,  
When next, Atrides, whose dominion  
Reached far and wide replied, says he  
I marry gaffer, there i'm w'ye,  
But this contentious rascal here,  
Over us all will domineer,  
He would command, as who should most,  
And with his nod would rule the roast,  
But here I doubt he'll scarce find those  
That will be tame at his dispose,  
What though he could toss a long pike,  
So well that none could do the like,  
Is't therefore fit he should be bold  
To rail at any uncontrolled?  
To this Achilles answer made,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Snapping him up ere he had quite said,  
Quoth he well might a man suppose,  
If I should be led by the nose  
Whether pleased thee, I were a coward,  
But I'm as good a man as thou art,  
Therefore command your boys, that can  
Obey, you'll find I am a man.   

And yet I'll tell you one thing more,  
Which I'd almost forgot before,  
Pray lay't to heart, I'll make no pother  
With you, or else with any other  
About the wench, because, like boys,  
You give and ask again your toys;  
But as for any thing beside  
A board my boats, let it be tried  
Whether thou darest touch them or no,  
Without my leave, all these shall know  
I can defend my own, thy gore  
Shall stain my long spear o'er and o'er,   

These two still wrangling in this sort,  
With an O yes dissolved the Court,  
And all went to their several charges,  
Some to their tents, some to their barges.  
Achilles like a sad malcontent,  
Marched off directly to his own tent,  
And with him went Menaetiades,  
And many more of his comrades.   

Mean while Atrides did not dally,  
But straight prepares me a swift galley,  
And, shoving it off from the shore,  
Put twenty men, each to an oar,  
Then, with the Hecatomb, the Greeks  
Chryseis brought with cherry cheeks,  
And after this, the cunning seer  
Ulysses went aboard to steer,  
And so they sailed along together,  
For th'present 'tis no matter whether.   

Mean while Atrides, by all means,  
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 carried to the shore,  
Was thrown i'th' sea, and seen no more,  
When that was tumbled down the ocean,  
They fell forthwith to their devotion,  
And tied upon Apollo's altars  
A hundred bulls and goats with halters,  
Whose steam went up with such a smoke,  
As if it would Apollo choke.  
Thus the while all the camp throughout  
The sacrifice busied the rout,  
Agamemnon not intending to miss  
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 dwelled near hand,  
And used to run on every errand,  
They wore blue coats, and the town badges,  
For why? the town paid them their wages,  
Nor used they only to run post,  
But sometimes cried things that were lost  
About the town on Market days)  
And to them said, go you your ways  
Toth' quárters of Achilles, and  
Take me Briseis by the hand,  
Bring hèr, if he'll not let her go,  
Take me her whether he will or no,  
Or else myself I'll come in person,  
And will make him deliver her soon,  
I'll bring a file of Musketeers  
And pull him out on's Tent byth' ears,  
Therefore command him at the first  
To yield 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 spoke,  
But they marched off, like bears to th'stake,  
Their ears like sheep-biters they hanged,  
And by the barren sea shore ganged.   

When they came where he did entrench  
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 stairs  
Where all his scullers plied for fares,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Spying them, he did nothing less  
Than leap for joy, you well may guess;  
The foot-posts too backward did sneak,  
And out of fear could hardly speak,  
But there like loggerheads stood scraping;   

Achilles knowing by their gaping  
What they did mean, Give you good ' en,  
Quoth he, ye posts of gods and men,  
Come near house pray, you have done nought  
Against me, 'tis Atrides fault,  
Of you I shall not think the worse,  
But put the saddle o'th' 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 cruel  
Landlord, by all the gods I'll near  
With club in hand 'mongst you appear,  
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 Greek Battalia to model,  
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 town beedles;  
And gave her, scarce without a grudge,  
Away they to the navy trudge,  
And she along with them did troth,  
But with a heavy heart, God wots.   

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

Rearing his fists, Mother, quoth he,  
In an ill hour you groaned for me,  
Would I had laid i'th' parsley-bed  
Still, if so soon I must be dead,  
Honour I thought I should have got  
From Jove who gives me never a jot,  
But scandal, for just now Atrides  
Whose jurisdiction far and wide is,  
Hath sent foot-posts, who are gone with  
My concubine spite 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 belonged to Billingsgate,  
And often times had rid in state,  
And sat i'th' bottom of a pool,  
Enthroned in a cucking-stool;)  
She, hearing him risen 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  like a mist,  
As wet as though she were bepissed,   

As soon as she close to him came,  
She spoke, and called him by his name,  
Stroking him on the head, Pigsny,  
Quoth she▪ tell me, who made it cry?  
Speak, tell me which of all the boys  
Beat it? or took away its toys?  
I'll pay 'em be they one or tother:  
Come, dry thine eyes, tell thine own mother.   

Achilles, sobbing still, thus spoke,  
And 'twixt each word his chaps did quake,  
Why should I tell you? you do know,  
I'm 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 grief, thus it befell,  
We went to Thebes, not long ago,  
The city of Eetion,  
Which our Greek 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 Phoebus, with some other laymen,  
Waiting on him, came to the boats  
Of the Greek soldiers 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with red coats,  
To ransom the fair maid, and they meant  
To give him for her present payment,  
They brought rich presents too from their land,  
For state the sceptre and the garland  
Of great Apollo, who's as good  
At pricks and butts as Robin Hood,  
Thus he made humble supplication  
To all the Gracian congregation,  
But specially, above all others,  
To both the camp-controuling brothers,  
Now every Greek except Atrides,  
Presently on old Chryses side is,  
And in one note do all agree,  
For's gifts to set his daughter free,  
And give him due respect, but only  
Atrides, that did love her fond,  
Was not contented with his humble  
Petition, but at it did grumble,  
And not affording him a civil  
Answer, bid him begun to th'devil,   

Chryses in wrath went home again,  
Whom his friend Phoebus heard complain,  
And 'mongst the Greeks sent a damned weapon  
Which made the people straight die heap on  
Heap, whilst Apollo's poisonous arrow  
Flew the Greek Army through and thorough,  
Till at the last we found a Prophet  
That told us all the meaning of it,  
And being a cunning Necromancer,  
From Phoebus' Oracle made answer▪   

Then first of all, I did advise  
T' appease the God by sacrifice,  
And humbly to entreat his pardon,  
When Agamemnon rising stared on  
Me in a rage, threatened, and stormed,  
And what he threatened, hath performed,  
For he prepared a boat, and fraught her  
With gifts, and sent home Chryses daughter,  
And black eyed Greeks sent from the Navy  
To Phoebus go to cry peccavi,  
But which doth vex me most, he sent  
Just now two beedles to my tent,  
To bring my girl home for his use,  
Judge you if this bened 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,  
he'd help you now, I'm sure you'll speed;  
I've heard you tell i'th' chimney corner  
A tale how that ere I was born or  
Begot, by your sole aid a lowering  
Cloudy Saturnius scaped a scouring,  
When all the rest of's imps did brag  
That they'd their father bind and gag,  
The plotters Pallas, and Neptune, who  
Was a fish-monger, and dame Juno;  
You knowing what they had designed  
Hindered them Jupiter to bind,  
Calling with speed up to his starry house  
A lusty fellow named Briareus,  
By all in heaven, but when he on  
The earth did live, he height Aegeon;  
This fellow had an hundred hands Sir,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  And was a stouter man than's Grandsire;  
And sat him down next to Jove's chare  
As proud as if h'had been Lord Mayor,  
While he sat there, all the immortal  
Gods dreaded Jove, that spoiled their sport all,  
Therefore when next you come to his  
House, pray put him in mind of this,  
Then towards him draw your stool nigher,  
And stroke his knees, or something higher,  
Wish him to assist the Trojan pikemen,  
That they may order matters like men,  
And that they may the Grecians 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 known;  
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 bloodshot eyes flowed brine;  
Woes me, my boy, quoth she, accursed  
Be the time where in thou wert nursed,  
Would thou hadst sat still at thy wherry;  
Without this wrong and sorrow merry;  
For now thy life is short and bitter,  
Thou were't bewitched of all my litter;  
But yet let me alone, I warrant  
To Jupiter I'll do thy errand,  
For I myself in person will  
Go to his house, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  upon Snow-hill,  
In the mean while sit here about,  
Near home, and at the Grecians pout,  
But meddle not with any fray,  
I charge you keep out of harms way;  

* 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    For Jove, and all his household a'ter  
Him, yesterday went cross the water,  
To th'sign of the black boy in Southwark;  
To th'ordinary to find his mouth work;  
Where he intends to fuddle's nose  
This fortnight yet, under the rose;  
When he comes home, I'll watch my time,  
And up the hill to's house I'll climb,  
To that house which he hath by lease-hold,  

† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  With th' horse-shoe nailed upon the threshold,  
Then, as thou told'st me, I'll petitioned,  
And I believe I shall not miss on't,   

Thus when sh'had said, she did departed,  
And left him there, vexed at the heart  
For th'wench, which was not long ago  
took from him whether he would or no.   

But hold a little, methinks this is  
Too long o'th' sea to leave Ulysses,  
Who brought the Grecians offering, by seas,  
And the girl home again to Chryses,  
Who now by this time did arrive  
At a wharf, almost, like Queen-hive,  
Then took they down their sail, and mast,  
And other tackle, in all haste;  
Which when they had i'th' bottom' stowed,  
One side held water, t'other rowed;  
Then throwing out their hooks before,  
They fastened them, and leapt a shore,  
Then did they bring forth of the hollow  
Lighter, the Hecatomb for Apollo,  
And next of all, in a black scarf,  
Chyseis set foot on the wharf,  
Her did Ulysses full of guile  
Streight forward lead to the Church stile,  
There into th' hands of her noun's daddy  
Having delivered her, thus said he,   

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

This said, the girl embraced her father.  
He in his heart is glad he hath her,  
But almost before he could touch her,  
Each Greek began to play the butcher,  
For having placed in comely wise  
About the green the sacrifice,  
Washing their dirty fists, they take  
And offer each an oaten cake,   

Then Chryses stretched his arms, & prayed  
For 'em, as loud as ere ass brayed;  
Give ear, quoth he, to that which I say  
O thou whose white Bow guardeth Chrysa,  
That governest Scylla, and Tenedos,  
With as much power and might as any does,  
Thou that before heard'st my petitions,  
And honor'd'st me, plaguing the Grecians,  
Hear me I pray thee once again,  
For my sake ease them of their pain,   

Thus while he prayed Phoebus attended,  
Then, after their orisons ended,  
They offered first their cakes of oats,  
Then dragged the beasts, & cut their throats,  
And from the flesh flaying the hide,  
I'th' next place did the legs divide,  
o'er which with skew'rs they stuck the cawl  
Double, and o'er that gobbets small;  
This, on cloven wood fetched out of's garret  
The old man burnt, pouring on't claret;  
About him many scullions were,  
Each charging a broach like a spear,  
As soon as ere the legs and guts  
Were thrown ith'fire, the rest he cut's  
Into small parcels, thus prepared  
They straight 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 drudgery o'er, themselves they placed  
On their bums, without any grace said;  
Amongst them there was none would starve,   
He would consent to be's own carver,  
Nor was there any there that won'd  
Own manners, more than did him good;  
Every one fell to like a Cormorant,  
And if he liked aught, still called for more on't,  
Till th'were so crammed with beef and mutton,  
That every one was feign t'unbutton,  
Until at last there came that happy tide,  
That satisfied every one's appetite,  
Then when they sound that never a chink  
Was left for either meat or drink,  
For what remained they g'an to snatch all,  
And with the scraps eath filled his satchel,  
Then drank they nappy ale in brown bowls,  
Each filled to's neighbour, & sent round bowls,  
Which orderly course none did omit,  
Till he was drunk, and began to vomit;  
Thus all the livelong day these tall lads  
Made Phoebus' sport by singing ballads,   

All this while Phoebus laughed and gigled,  
To hear 'im bawl as he were tickled,  
Till night came on, and spoiled their sport,  
than every one i'th' barge did snort,  
They lay like pigs spewing and yawning  
At one another, till day dawning;   

As soon as ere day began to peep,  
They shook their ears and out did creep,  
And homewards did direct their barges,  
Towards the Greek camp which so large is,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  Which when Apollo saw, cried he  
All the wind in mine A— go w'ye;   

Then up they hoist their sails, and mast,  
And the boat ran before the blast;  
And all the way the waves before,  
As the boat cut them through, did roar;  
Thus coming to 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  the Greek camp wide,  
They dragged 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,  
Sat pouting close by his own galley,  
Nor forth against the foe did sally,  
Nor ever stirred he from his boat,  
In the Court Marshal to vote;  
But there he sat crying, and whining,  
With very grief his own heart pining,  
Looking as if he were bewitched,  
And yet to fight his fingers itched.   

Thus twelve days passed, till all the gods  
With Jove returned to their abodes,  
Now in the mean time goodwife Thetis,  
Bearing in mind her son's entreaties,  
From the deeps bottom cut a caper  
As nimble as any didaper,  
And up the hill Olympus climbs,  
To breathe her, in the morn betimes,  
Where, from the rest apart, she spies  
Saturnius with 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  saucer eyes,  
On one o'th' highest stumps alone,  
(For on that hill is many a one)  
She drawing her a joint stool nigh,  
Tickled him gently on the thigh  
With one hand, whilst to ' there did stroke him  
Under the chin, than thus bespoke him;   

Father, if ere in word or deed  
You received help from me at need,  
Fulfil my will, honour my boy,  
Who among all that came to Troy  
You have made shortest lived, beside his  
Other misfortunes, now Atrides  
Who governs every Grecian yeoman,  
Hath robbed him of is beloved leman;  
But thou, grave, prudent, heavenly, jove,  
Let me entreat thee of all love  
To give the Trojans still the day,  
Till all the Grecian Soldiers may  
Repent of each abusive action  
The have done, and offer satisfaction.   

Thus when she had proposed her suit  
Cloudy Jove sat a good while mute;  
And answering her not one whit,  
He looked as though he had been be—  
But Thetis kept fast hold of is knees,  
And with her hands his legs did squeeze,  
And vowed she never would let go  
Till he had answered I or no,   

Speak out, quoth she, ne'er muse upon it,  
Tell me either you will or won't  
Never fear me, of all the rest  
I'm sure I'm she you care for least.   

Then cloudy Jupiter, being vexed  
To th' very heart, spoke these words next,  
D'spretious, quoth he, 'twill be fowl work,  
Juno will rate me like a Turk,  
Beware of making bate among  
Us, she, you know, hath a long tongue,  
You know she's always used to scold  
At me, and saith I do up hold  
The Trojans roisters in their villainy,  
And never let the Grecians 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, I'll give ye a token,  
My nod, on that you may rely,  
And cannot be deceived, for why?  
From me that is the surest sign,  
Nor is there any word mine,  
If I but nodded when 'twas spoke,  
That can be, or reversed, or broke;   


* 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    This said, he bends his beetle-brows,  
And's greasy pate demurely bows,  
Thus, while too forward he inclined,  
He could not so well hold behind,  
And not being abl' his wind to: contain,  
He let a f— that shook the mountain,  
Thus they; agreed upon the matter,  
Parted, she rolled into the water  
Down high Olympus, Jupiter  
Went in a doors, not minding her;  
Whether as soon as he was come,  
Every 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 than stand bare,  
While towered his chair he did pass by:  
Then, by the leering cast of's eye  
Juno perceived (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'er connive at,  
Yet could she not think with a p—  
With whom, but 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Thetis i'th' white socks  
She guessed at; for she was far younger  
Than herself, 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'd teach her  
To be so lusty, thou dost hid  
What ere thou dost from me thy bride,  
By thy good will I should know nought  
Of what e'er thou hast done or thought,   

Then, on this wise, straight her good man  
To make a grave reply began,  
Quoth, he dame Juno, hold a blow,  
Near expect all I say to know,  
For, though th' art the wife of my bosom,  
IT shall scape me hard if ere thou know some,  
But as for what becomes a woman  
To know, believe me, there is no man  
Shall sooner know't, but of occult  
Business 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 lowered at her,  
When Juno, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with face broad as platter,  
Perceiving him so touchy, cogged,  
And made this answer, Lord, how dogged  
You speak? when ere you have been busied, I've  
Near, as I know, been too inquisitive,  
For me, you may consult at ease  
O' God's name about what you please,  
Only, at present, my fear great is  
That you have been collogued by Thetis  
The Oyster woman, who wears socks  
whiter, for th' most part, than 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'm deceived, hath promised that  
Forsooth to honour her base brat,  
You'll be content to run the hazard,  
Of losing thousand Grecians as hard.   


* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Jove who makes clouds as black as pitch,  
Answered, faith I think th' art a witch,  
Of us thou always art so jealous,  
That from thine eyes naught can conceal us,  
But all thy watchings 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,  
Let's hear whether you dare say no,  
Sat you down housewife, and be quiet,  
If I say aught, be you ruled by it  
Or else, who ere is on thy side,  
Though Gods, I'll clapperclaw thy hide;   

When 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  broad-faced Juno had heard this,  
She sat her down as mute as fish,  
And strait-ways down came her proud stomach,  
On this, the Gods were all like to make  
An uproar in the house, until  
Vulcan, a blacksmith full of skill,  
That knew what pleased his mother best,  
Began this speech among the rest,   

These 
† 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  pestilent do are intolerable,  
Quoth he, that things which are so small, are able  
To set us by th' ears, for these are things  
That concern men, not us two farthings,  
If this trade hold, as I'm a sinner,  
We had as good ne'er come to dinner,  
'Twill do us no more good than bare ling,  
If we can't eat it without snarling,  
And, mother, pray let me persuade ye,  
(Although they say y'are a wise lady)  
To please and smooth my father up here,  
That he mayn't scold, and spoil our supper  
For, if he will this Thunder can  
Turns all out, he's the better man;  
But speak him fair, and call him honey,  
You know good words do cost no money  
Call him pigsny, chicken, and love,  
He'll be as gentle as a glove,  
He'll soon be pacified by cogging:  
Whilst he said this, he filled a noggin:  
Which, ending's speech, he gave to's mother,  
And, while she drank, began another,  
Be not so sad, quoth he, bear 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 wronged, but 'tis in vain  
For me, though I would ne'er so feign,  
To think to rescue you from jove,  
'tTwere e'en as good for me ne'er move,  
I know, by this my maimed limb  
That there is no encountering him,  
For by my left leg once he caught  
Me, I remember, when I sought  
To fet you free, won by your prayers,  
And fling me headlong down the stairs;  
'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 die,  
With scarce any breath in my body,   

Thus when h'had said, juno did sneer,  
And bid her son fill out more beer,  
Which he did, and gave it about  
Into the hands of all the rout,  
Which every one totally quafed,   
It came from's nose, but what a laughter  
Did it afford, to to see grim Vulcan  
Deliver to each man his full can!  
Thus did they sit, and cram, and eat,  
All the day long until sunset,  
(You'll swear their stomach's were set sharp)  

a 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    Apollo playing o'th' welsh harp,  
Then in the nick as they were dining,  
To them there came wassellers nine, in,  
Who did, by turns, and not at once all,  
Sing ballads, each with a responsal;  
Now one, than tother, put a word in,  
Then all together sung the burden,  
At sunset, with a giddy head,  
Each of 'em reeled home to bed,  
To that place where 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the famous hobbler,  
For he was bricklayer, and cobbler,  
As well as smith, of every trade)  
For each of them a house had made,  
And jove home to his own bed crept,  
Where he snored, and profoundly slept,  
And with him lay juno his mate,  
Raised from her Wicker chair of state.    

Homer A la Mode.  
The second Rhapsody.  
The Argument.  

The second Rhapsody, called Beta,  
Of Agamemnon's dream doth treat a;  
Tell's the proceed o'th' Court-leet,  
And numbereth the Grecian Fleet.   

THe Gods that night did sleep and snort all,  
And so did many a daring mortal,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Wearing on's head a payr of locks  
Made of the spoils of young colts docks,  
Only except Jove from that number,  
Who then, did neither sleep nor slumber.  
Not (as some writ) perplexed with fleas,  
But cares, he could not take his ease;  
For he resolved (since he had said it)  
That he would stout Achilles' credit,  
Though by the death of honest fellows  
To be slain 'mongst the Greek Gondelo's:  
Whilst this, all night, his mind was busy on,  
He thought it best to send a Vision  
To great Atrides his pavilion,  
Which he had pitched before Ilium;  
Then, having called one to him, the sage  
Jove sent him with this hasty message;   

Be gone, dispatch, false shape, tothth' place,  
Where th' Greeks entrench, with speedy pace,  
There go tothth' 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, soon as he may, fall to it,  
And arm his men, both horse and foot,  
Bid him be sure arm all his ragged  
Regiment, of 
a— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Greeks, whose hair's shagged,  
Every man with a trusty blade,  

b 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    From th' General to th' Lanspresade,  
For now at last, his warlike feet  
This day shall tread in 
c 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—    Troy's broad-street,  
The Gods will stand no longer doubting,  
But yield the Trojans to his routing,  
And, woe be to them, for by Juno's  
Prayers, they are like t'have many a blue nose▪   

As soon as he said this, the dream  
took swifter flight than boats with stream,  
And almost  one could have cried  
What's this? came where the Greek ships ride:  
As for Atrides, without rapping  
At's door, he came and 
d 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—    caught him napping,  
His sleep, with odours, not like amber,  
Backwards, and forwards, filled the chamber:  
He came and peeped o'er the tester  
Ofs bed, i'th' shape of gaffer Nestor;  
Whom he loved 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'marks of his age.   

Then said, sleepest thou so sound Atrides?  
Thy sire, old Atreus, would have plied his  
Stump had he been as thee, his soul  
God rest, and happy man be's dole;  
When he died we lost a stout warrior,  
And, though I say't, 
e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  a skilful farrier,  
Neighbour, you ought more to regard  
The public, then while watch and ward  
Should be kept by you, to lie sleeping;  
You have, committed to your keeping, 
— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
The public peace; who shall now catch,  
While you sleep here, rogues on the watch?  
Come, mark my council, for 'tis Jupiter's,  
That loves thee, as the devil loved Hugh Peter's,  
And, when thou little thinkest on't, cares  
For th'management of thy affairs,  
He bids thee without further stops,  
Arm th' 
f— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Greeks', with heads like whiting, mops;  
See that you all your forces rally,  
The Gods will now no longer dally,  
But yield up 
g 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—    Troy, with her fair high ways,  
Therefore make great haste, and go thy ways  
About it, Juno now prevails,  
Therefore woe to the Trojans tails,  
Take heed you: done't forget ere day  
(As you use) what o'er night I say,  
I hope you went not drunk to bed,   

This when the cheating dream had said  
He left him musing, like an Ass,  
On what should never come to pass;  
He leaped in's very sleep for joy,  
And dreamed of nought but taking Troy,  
His conquest now seemed within viewing,  
But he thought not 
a— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  what Jove was brewing,  
For he intended, by next light,  
To make both parties rue their fight:  
He waked 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  and saw his dream as plain  
As if't had stood by him again,  
Where e'er he turned, he thought he heard  
The voice come from Nestor's bush-beard,  
When he had sat upright, and scratched  
His bum a while, in hast he catched  
His coat, 'twas soft made of bucks leather,  
Thick enough against wind and wether,  
Then did he's plad on's shoulders don,  
And buckled too his clouted shoes;  
Then, thrusting through his belt his elbow,  
He hung by's side his blade of Bilbo,  
And next, he took a crab-tree-cudgel,  
With which his father used to trudge well  
From town to town, this did he carry  
With him still, as hereditary,  
Thus walked he to the boats accoutred,  
Gladness within, and these arms outward.   

By this Aurora had given warning  
To Jove, and th'rest, that it was morning,  
For she's the chambermaid, and, early  
Each morning, calls up those that there lie.  
When Agamemnon sent the bellmen  
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 sat the grave Senate,  
Otherwise called the Common-counsel,  
Jolly old men that wear fur gowns well  
When these were met, and when they all at  
Him stared, He thus began, like a ballad,  
(
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Producing a contrivance, full.  
Of subtlety, from his thick scull)   

Good people, friends, and masters, list ye,  
There did appear 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 bed's tester.  
Canst thou sleep, or securely bide here,  
Thou son of Atreus 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  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 lie so like a thing quite dead,  
Except for snoring, like a carcase,  
For shame rise, be not such a stark Ass,  
You well may credied what I presage,  
And pray obeyed, for 'tis Jove's message;  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Who, though his house from yours be far off,  
Cares for you more than you're ware of,  
He counsels you to  in mail  
All your men, 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  tag, rag, and long tail,  
And arm each 
d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  shaggy pate in hell met,  
For now your prayers the gods have well met,  
And they no longer will delay,  
But bring you into Troy's 
e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  broad way,  
For Juno's prayers have turned the mind  
Oth' gods, and 
f— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  mischief hang's i'th' wind  
O'er Troy town, when from you sleeps banished  
Forget not: and away he vanished.  
Thus, when the dream had me forsook,  
I yawned a little, and then work;  
Therefore let's forthwith put in armour,  
As well as we can, each Greek farmer;  
One thing by th' way I have projected,  
To try how they all stand affected;  
To retreat home I'll them persuade,  
To try of what mettle they're made,  
But say each of you the Contrary,  
And give them your advice to tarry.   

Atrides thus said, and sat down,  
Then Nestor rose up in's fur gown,  
An officer 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  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 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  stout, and of great prudence:  
Who for each purpose carry staves,  
To keep the peace, and knock down Knaves  
Had any mean man told this story  
About a dream, I'd have been for ye,  
And counselled you forthwith to pack  
To Graecia, bag and baggage, back,  
Thinking he lied, but now since, 'tis he on  
Whom we depend that saw this vision,  
Therefore forthwith let loud alar'mes  
Warn the Greeks to stand to their Arms.   

This was old Nestor's speech, which yet he  
Had hardly finished, when 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  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 rabble rout was coming  
To court apace, and made a humming  
For all the world like swarms of Bees,  
That use to live in hollow trees,  
Which all day long busied about  
Their work, are going in and out,  
And up and down fly 
d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  in a cluster  
From flower to flower, so the Greeks muster,  
And come in throngs along the shore,  
Whose very sands were scarcely more;  
For Jove sor fear they should not all  
Have notice, bid Fame sound a call,  
Which she did with her shining trumpet;  

*— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Th'earth seemed to groan they did so thump it  
Before they were all placed, there was  
Amongst them a confused buzz;  
In country churches such confusion  
I oft have heard, when towards conclusion  
The priest hath drawn his tedious prayers,  
Some running down the belfry stairs,  
Some more devout clowns, partly guessing  
When he's almost come to the blessing,  
Prepare their staves, and rise at once,  
saying Amen, off their mary bones,  
Nine Cri'rs together that were then bound  
T' attend the Court, on pain of ten pound  
Proclaimed silence, and did make  
O yes, before Atrides spoke,  
Then every one in haste caught room  
Where he could find place for his Bum,  
All hushed, Atrides up did stand,  
Holding his gilt-Staff in his Hand,  
A Staff which all the rest for bulk, and  
Fair shape excelled, first made by Vulcan,  
And given to Jove the Sun of Saturn,  
When he as Constable served a turn,  
Jove makes use on't, and when his term is  
Expired, leaves it to nimble Hermes;  
Hermes resigned his mighty Mace  
To 
f 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Carter Pelops with his place;  
Pelops gave't Atreus his succeeder,  
He to Thyestes 
g 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the sheep feeder,  
And after 
g 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Rich Thyestes died, his  
Constable's Staff he left Atrides,  
With which he governed many an Island,  
And ruled his ward, by Sea, and by Land,  
On this he leane's; and twist's about  
His Leg, and 
h 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  straight these words fly out:   

My friends, and stout Greeks 
i 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  that wear his Mars  
Buff livery upon your A—  
This damned Saturnius hath betrayed me;  
He owed my a shame, and now hath paid me,  
He promised me, when I had ta'en  
Troy Town, I should come home again,  
But now I see too plain, god's duds  
He leaves me basely in the suds,  
He chargeth us to face about,  
Now 've received a gen'ral rout,  
These are his tricks, he hath shown his power  
Oft in the fall of many a Tower,  
And yet he'll batter many a wall,  
In spite of any of us all,  
The children, yet unborn, here aster  
At us shall stretch their sides with laughter,  
If ever they should chance to hear on't  
That we returned without our errand,  
That we stayed eight years and a half  
Before Troy Town, as Walt●●'s Calf  
Went nine miles once to suck a Bull,  
We shall b' as wise as he was full;  
And yet, for aught as I can see,  
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 
i 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Denizon  
Of Troy, to fill him wine to is Venison;  
I doubt me many a ten would lack  
A man for them to fill out sack,  
So far our number, in my account,  
The Trojan Citizens surmount,  
But, besides these, th' auxiliary's  
Do vex me most, mongst whom each carries  
A long spear, but for these, this burrow  
Had long since been by us run through,  
But now, nine years are passed and gone,  
As for ship-timber, we have none,  
And, for our use we are scarce able,  
Th' are so decayed, to strain a cable,  
And god Knows what's done by our wives  
The while we here venture our lives,  
Whilst here our business lies undone,  
Each of us hath an unknown Son,  
Some perhaps more, who do expect us,  
And if we come not, may neglect us,  
Therefore, hark all to what I say,  
To morrow we'll cry westward hay,  
And hoist up for our native soil,  
Leaving this endless, fruitless toil;  
We'll, as we can, our own enjoy,  
Since here's no hopes of taking Troy.  

k 

— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉    When this was said, the sooth to tell ye  
Each man's heart hoped within his belly,  
Among the throng, but theirs did not  
Which knew before hand of his plot;   

With this speech each mind homeward bend he,  
And, nemine contradicente,  
They cried like mad men, hay for our town,  
Just as th' Icarian waves do power down  
Their foam o'th' shore, when ever the stern  
Eurus disturbs them with his Eastern  
Blasts, or when Notus roaring loud,  
Rushes upon them from a cloud,  
Or as fierce Zephyrus doth grumble  
In corn fields, making each stalk humble  
His weighty head; this speech inclined  
Just so, to a retreat each mind,  
They ran, and flourished their Caps o'er 'em,  
Beating along the dust before 'em,  
They launched their Boats out in all haste,  
(m) Each lent a Hand, and cried 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 weighed, their cries  
And joy full hooting pierced the Skies;  
And reached the Ears of great Jove's dame,  
Th' had gone else as wise as they came, 
— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   
She heard it, as she sat by Pallas,  
And cried, out on a sudden, alas!  
What means this hooping great Jove's Daughter  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Untamed yet? what is the matter?  
We ' l never let the Grecian Scullers  
March homewards thus with folded colours,  
ne'er shall they 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  back grim Neptune's billows,  
Instead of Laurels, bearing Willow's,  
ne'er shall they stir thence, till they take  
Troy Town, and Helen, for whose sake  
Many bold Greeks lie, many a mile  
In cold clay, from their native soil,  
To the Greek 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Red coats haste therefore  
With fair 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-eyed maid  
Made no more bones on't, but obeyed,  
She dropped from th' welkin down, as quick  
As a Kite striking at a Chick,  
And, in the turning of a hand,  
Among the Grecian ships did stand,  
And there, according to her wishes,  
Near his own boat she found Ulysses,  
In cunning equal unto Jove,  
He had not put a hand to shove  
His Boat off shore, but there he stood,  
Stamping, and vexed, as he were wood,  
Minerva, slanding by his side;  
Unto him thus herself applied,   

Laertes' 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 Gracian trench,  
And before I'lium's cursed walls '  
Have been caused many stout men's falls?  
Which, god knows how far off, lie dead  
From th' parish where th'were borne and bred,  
Make haste for shame, 
a— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  make no demur,  
Go to 'em, and let no man stir,  
With your fair words you may persuade 'em,  
Let them not launch their boats, nor lad 'em,   

Ulysses 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  knew the wench by'r tone,  
For she had still a bawling one,  
He, entertaining a great trouble at  
Th'intended voyage, dosted his doublet,  
And bid a neighbour of his bear it,  
The weather was too hot to wear it,  
Thus, vexed thats 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 show for it; he  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Borrowed the Staff of his Authority,  
Which yet was sound wood, though 'twere boar  
By many a Constable before,  
With which being armed, he walked a round  
The Red-coats quarters, if he sound  
There any of the better sort.  
Them with this speech he 'gan to Court,   

Sir, you should not Faintheart resemble,  
And at the enemy's sight tremble,  
You should yourself, and others order,  
Be ned in such haste to go aboard, ere  
You know what is Atrides mind.  
Perhaps he hath done this to find  
How men's affections are bend,  
And, I believe, 'tis his intent  
To punish, as he finds occasion,  
According to this proof, each lazy one,  
'tis ' not yet clear what he doth drive at;  
All know not what he said 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 jove 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,  
Down to the ground, then bid himstand,  
saying: sirrah, we'll provide you setters  
If you can't be ruled by your betters,  
Thou dastard, sneaking rogue▪ thou beest  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—  Scarce worthy to have room i'th' list,  
What good hast thou ere done but mutiny?  
Thou canst nor plot nor execute any,  
Let's not be masters all, I pray,  
Tw'er better one should bear the sway,  
Who hath from jove received commission,  
In rule, pray, let's have no partition;   

Thus, whomsoever he could find  
In all his walk, he disciplined,  
Some, with entreats, and some, with menaces,  
He brought back from their tents and pinnaces,  
To court again, with such a roaring  
As when the waves do make the shore ring,  
Which noise is echoed back again  
By others, further in the main;   

The rest were all quietly sat,  
Only Thersites began to prate,  
Against his officers, this beast,  
In lavender still had a jest,  
And what e'er he thought would move laughter  
He'd out with't, what ere would come after,  
No Greek was ugly'er, yet this fowl  
Rasscalion thought himself a droll;  

* 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    He limped, and looked nine way's at once,  
Distorted were his shoulder bones,  
His head, from's forehead to his crown top,  
Resembled much a reversed towne-top,  
His beard right China, and as thin  
The hair of's head was, as of's chin,  
This scurvy rascals humour still is  
To jeer Ulysses, and Achilles,  
He was a lover of scurrility,  
But foe to these, and all civility:  
He than began thus to deride his  
Prudent commander, great Atrides,  
On whom all looked with indignation,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  'Cause he had fooled their expectation,  
'Gainst him he made this speech, i'th' 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 than one tent?  
And the choice Girls yet ye are not content,  
All th' captive Wenches, that are under  
Thirty years, you choose out o'th' plunder,  
If any Trojan comes to ransom  
His son, and with him brings a Grand sum  
If we demand it, they'll contemn one  
Of us, and ask for Agamemnon,  
And then besides, if that could quiet ye,  
Of private tumblers ye have variety,  

* 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉    It is not right that he who is chief  
'Mongst us, should lead us into mischief,  
And after many an error, and turn,  
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'er enjoy  
Our goods, but spend them here in Troy,  
Let him know, mangre his commands,  
We may have th' law in our own hands,  
He keeps Achilles' wench per force,  
Though then himself he can't be worse,  
For that good man than made it plain  
How much he could himself contain,  
Had he not then his passion curbed,  
Thou shouldst have us no more disturbed,   

Ulysses 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 sayest out of mere spite is,  
Those that came with us hither ask all,  
There's not amongst 'em such a rascal,  
Darest 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 rail,  
And be enquiring when he'll sail,  
Before there's any of's that know  
How th' matters of this siege will go,  
How we shall come off none knows truly,  
Whether 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  with victory or blewly,  
What reason is't you should condemn one,  
As here you do great Agamemnon,  
And basely cast into his teeth  
Those things the Greeks honoured him with?  
One thing I'll tell thee too to boot,  
And, as God judge me, I'll stand to't,  
Sirrah, if ever I catch you more  
Abusing folks in this mad humour,  
May my head off my shoulders fall,  
And let my little boy ne'er call  
Me his own father, but some other  
That has been dealing with his mother,  
If I don't of thy Jerkin strip thee,  
And thy red waistcoat, and then whip thee,  
I'faith I'll pluck thy breeches down,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Some Market day, and through the town,  
I'll drive thee, whining with a carters  
Long, knotted whip, to thy own quarters;   

This when he ended, ore's bunch back  
He took him a confounded thwack;  
The cur 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  ducked down his head, and whined,  
As howling mongrils, when they find  
They're warned too late by the bell  
Oth' whips approach, from's blear eyes fell,  
'Tis hard to say wheth'r rheum, or tear,  
Perhaps 'twas rheum, which still flowed there,  
And on's crook-back there risen a new  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Great bunch, of colour black and blue,  
Raised by the crab-tree-cudgel's knobs,  
He sits him down, and sighs, and sobs,  

c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Making foul faces, 
d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and's wet eyes,  
And snotty nose, on's sleeve he dries,  
He durst not speak, he was so feared,  
But grinned, and pulled the hair off's beard,  
The Grecians, though th'had scarce done chase,  
At that sight could not forbear laughing,  
He looked so like a baboon, vexed  
Then said one to him that stood next,   

O Gemony! neighbour, what a bliss is  
This, that we have 'mongst us Ulysses?  
Good he doth practice, and impart,  
And now (God's blessing on his heart)  
H'has ta'en a course, into this idle  
Rogues slanderous mouth to put a bridle,  
It seems he'll pluck down his proud stomach,  
Or he's resolved to make his bum ache,  
Against his betters now I'll warrant  
He'll not rail, h'had best have a care on't,   

Thus talked the vulgar, when 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Ulysses,  
Who to storm henroosts seldom misses,  
Risen up, and there stood by his side  
Pallas, a wench that was wall-eyed,  
In criers clothes, she cried, O yes,  
And bid the people hold their peace,  
That the grave speech might reach the ear  
Of him that stood far off, and near,  
When all were quiet, spoke Ulysses,  
With staff in hand, and his speech this is   

Atrides, all the Greeks contrive  
To make thee th' veriest fool alive,  
Of all their promises they fail,  
Which they made when they hoist up sail  
From Argos, that, till Troy was taken,  
By them you ne'er should be forsaken,  
Your regiment of Gracian 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 knows what they lack,  
Unless they'd be brought home pick pack,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  And on my word it is a hard case,  
Now after many a Greek's turned carcase,  
And all have undergone turmoil,  
For going home to quit the spoil,  
Yet I can't blame 'em, I confess  
I think myself should do no less,  
'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 horn mad,  
Now almost nine years are past, since  
We came, we're almost in our teens,  
Therefore no fault with any neighbour,  
I'll find, since so much trouble they bore,  
Let loser's speak, 'tis an affliction,  
But yet, my friends, since honour pricks ye on,  
Bear a good heart with your hard fare, and  
Let's ne'er bring home a sleeveless errand,  
Besides, among us there's a talk, as  
If we were cheated here by Calchas,  
Therefore let's stay till we have tried him,  
And then a heavy death betid him,  
And if, at their time, all his prophecies  
Don't come to pass, then quit your offices:  
All (but a broth'r, or so, whose soul 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 backside,  
From whence in troughs did water glide  
Into the house, for th'use o'th' kitchen,  
We killed (and Calchas, good at witching,  
Was then in place) a lusty steer,  
God bless the mark, in that place where  
A straight, wide-spreading sycamore  
Grew, nigh the well I named before;  
There then appeared a cruel dragon,  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  His neck looked as if't had red shag on,  
By Jupiter's will so't befell,  
He crept from under th'lid o'th' well,  
There, up the sycamore, to th'thatched  
House eves he twines, where, newly hatched,  
He found young birds, in number eight,  
The old one th'nine, which on them sat,  
They were young sparrows, or Tom Tits,  
I know not which, but at eight bits  
I'm sure, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  though they poor things did chirp, and  
Tremble, th'were eaten by the serpent,  
And, all this while, th'enraged old one  
Flew up and down, and seemed to scold on  
The greedy monster that had robbed her,  
But he contrived a slight and bobbed her,  
For 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  as she flew about, and clapped her  
Wings at him, he sprang forth, and snapped her,  
Thus soon as he had cleared the nest,  
And eat the old one, and the rest,  

c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  The mighty son of crafty Cronus,  
Conjured him back again to's own house,  
And when we looked all about for him,  
We could find nought but th'well-stone o'er him,  
We knew not (it did so astonish us)  
What by this sign Jove did admonish us:  
Nor guessed we what he should foretell  
By th' serpents coming out o'th' well,  
When Calchas, straight, the cunning man  
Thus to unriddle it began,  

d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  Why are ye silent all and hushed,  
Ye noble Greeks, whose hair is bushed?  
Wise Jove hath shown us this portent,  

e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  We must with patience wait th'event,  
'Twill be a thing 
f 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  that will commend  
The Grecian name, world without end,  
Just now you here have seen this same  
Serpent eat th'young birds and their dam,  
The meaning of it I divine,  
The young birds eight, one more makes nine,  
That's th' old one, had there been one more  
Amongst them, th' had been half a score,  
This shows that, nine whole years, we shall  
Lay tedious siege against Troy wall,  
In the tenth year, by this I see it,  
We shall all enter 
a— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Troy's high street,  
This Calchas said, and still we find  
All falls out true he ere divined,  
Therefore, ye 
b— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  booted Greeks, couragio  
Letoy 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 fling their Caps i'th' air,  
And cried out, Sir, your speech is fair;  
The ships, as if they'd rend in pieces,  
Rang with the praises of Ulysses,  

* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Every one there judged it as fine  
A preachment, as ere from divine  
Can be expected, thus they roared,  
Commending largely every word.   


a— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Old Nestor, used 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 talk like Babes, all, skilled in rattles,  
And hobby horses, more than battles,  
Where shall we find us out evasions  
Enough, to salve our protestations?  
Must that which skilful men invented,  
And sound conveyancers indented,  
Be now despised? as 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  for our solemn  
Covenants, and leagues, what must befall 'em?  
To perish must it be their lots  
In Greg'ry's Bonfire, like the Scots?  
Shall we now violate 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  that agreement,  
On which we all did take the Sacrament?  
And that to which we set our hands?  
If so, none ere will take our bands,  
When '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 days hence,  

a 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉    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 hanged, or kiss your a—  
For, let them do their best, they'll scarce  
Find their way homewards, till we know  
Whether Jove fools us, I, or Noah,  
This I'm sure, 
b 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    when we went aboard,  
Bringing for Troy town fire, and sword,  
Jove gave's a pass, and did express,  
By  signs no less,  
For then 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  his lightning, to our wonder,  
Showed us the way, and his loud 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 Girl a piece,  
Let no man think of his own dwelling,  
Ere he hath been revenged for Helen,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  But if there's any that's so stern,  
That will in spite of us return,  
Let him but touch his barge 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  well planked,  
And straight, with death, he shall be thanked,  
For you Atrides, though y'are wise,  
Pray take, as well as give advice,  
What I say, though it doth not profit,  
You'll not be th' worse for th' hearing of it,  
Then, briefly, thus I do advise,  
Divide your men by companies;  
So files will help files, in each squadron  
So may you find out who ever's a drone,  
This if by your command you do,  
What each man doth will lie in view,  

a 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    Then, if you take not Troy, you'll know  
The cause on't, how it happens so,  
Whether it be long of Jove's will,  
Or of our Soldiers want of skill,  
'Twill put a stop 'gainst all profaning  
The gods, if't hap for want of training,   

Then thus Atrides made him answer  

b 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    Nay, by my faykins now, old grandsire,  
You still do go beyond the young  
Greeks, in the smoothness of your Tongue,  
I would to Jove, Phoebus, and Pallas,  
We had ten men amongst us all, as  
Well bred as you, to Read and Writ,  
Then should Troy town, to day, ere night,  
Be brought, by all our hands, to ruin,  
we'd open the gates, and let all you in.  
But alas Jove with's 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Goats-skin mantle  
Doth somewhat scurvily me handle,  

b— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  And thrusts me into brawls, and brabbles,  
Whence none to set himself free able's,  
For you know how, about the Girl, I  
And stout Achilles did grow surly  
With one an other, 
c— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the affront,  
I found, in cool blood thinking on't,  
I gave him first, but if again  
He would consult with me, why then  
we'd by no means delay to murder  
These miscreants 
d— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  one minute further  
For th' present go all to your suppers,  
And after that, have at their cruppers,  
Each rub's spear, surbush up his shield,  
Arm ye at all points for the field,  

e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  You of the Cavalry, by all means  
Give your Horse store of Oats and Beans,  
Give 'em fresh litt'r, and rub their heels,  
You Wagoners, liquor your wheels,  
That all the day long we may fight,  
Till we be parted by dark night,  
I'll set you all so hard a working,  

* 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—    That every one shall sweat through's Jerkin,  
And all the while the Drums shall strike up,  
Whilst any man can hold his Pike up,  
The teeors shall sweat too, and take pains,  
That draw along our laden wanes,  
If any of you I see hanker  
Here, nigh the Boats that ride at anchor,  
'Twill be well for that Jackanapes,  
If he the Dogs and Kites escapes,   

This when he had spoke, the Greeks cried 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 midst o'th' flood,  
That no wind ever blows it good,  
They rise and with shout's strain their throats,  
Scat'ring themselves among the Boats,  
Then through the camp they made great bonfires,  
And supped, with mutton broiled upon fires,  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.—.  And each said over a rosary  
To's several Saint, with Ave Mary,  
Adding to all the rest this prayer,  
To come from field alive, and fair,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  And that he might come off from grim  
Mars his assaults, sound, wind, and limb,  
Atrides, 'mongst the rest, did call  
On Jove, and killed 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 never a guest, or  
Neighbour, before jolly old Nestor,  
Idomeneus, next, made one more,  
Then the two Ajaxes made four,  
In the fifth place came Diomedes,  
And sixth Ulysses came, to feed his  
Ungodly gut, 
*— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  his brains as full  
Of plots, and crotchets, as Ioves scull;  
Then Menelaus 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  good at bawling,  
For's wide throat famed, 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 board,  

a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  These eight sat round 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,  
Whilst the meat cooled pieced out his prayer,  
With these words, or such like as they are;  

c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  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, 
d 

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.    and pay Hector's, jacket,  
And at one blow in two may hack it,  
And put the Noses in the gutter  
Of his comrades, that makes this clutter.   

Thus while he prayed (e) jove, 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 said,  
And every one had took him bread,  
Atrides took the pains to serve  
His guests, and to them all to carve  
First, towards his Trencher he drewed nigh,  
And then the Gooze did scarify,  
Then from the rest he pulled it clean,  
And with it sent some fat and lean  
That thoroughly had not been boiled,  
Down to the Scullions, to be broiled,  
This they did, o'er a fire of cloven wood,  
And broiled the Tripes oth'coals oth'left wood,  
Thus, having their Beef and Tripes dressed,  
They chopped, and jointed all the rest, 
*— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
Which some no sooner had quite fitted,  
But th' were by others took and spitted,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  The turn-spits roasted it with steady  
Hand, and took't up when it was ready:  
Atrides, having carved round:  
Cut's for himself at least five pound,  
Putting it on's trencher, to't doth fall,  
saying, now I hope I've pleased you all,  

c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  The cooks too, having done, were set  
At table hay fellow well met,  
The meanest scullion had like cheer  
With the sufficient'st man sat there:  
Thus they allayed their hung'r and thirst,  
Then spoke old Nestor these words, first:   

Right worshipful, our great commander  
Atrides, let's not longer stand here,  
Let's by no means seem to put off, or  
Abuse th' occasion the God's proffer,  
Send about criers to give notice  
To every Greek who at his boat is,  
No longer let us here hold prattle,  
But quickly rally, and join battle;   

This Nestor had no sooner said,  
But Agamemnon straight obeyed  
And bid the bawling criers rouse  
The sleeping Greeks to rendezvous,  
They called 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the Grecians with curled locks,  
And they came thronging in by flocks,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Some corporall's that lived on spoils  
And what god sent 'em, through the files  
Marched with Atrides, crying, this stands  
Too near his fellow, keep your distance;  
Thus they with him, surveyed both flanks,  
Passing through all the files, and ranks,  
Amongst these swashing swordmen, came  
An ugly, 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  blear-eyed, ramping, dame,  

b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  In a short petticoat she was clad,  
Time could not change it, 'twas so bad,  
Old fringe 'twas trimmed with, on which, rows  
There hanged, of tinsel, decked with oes,  
Well worth a hundred pound (believe it)  
Of that man's money that would give it,  
Thus, like a Bedlam to and fro  
She frisked, and 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  egged 'em on to go,  
And at last, witched 'em in that plight,  
That they were almost mad to fight,  
That every man there would have chose  
Rather by half a bloody nose,  
Then to have free leave home to sail  
To Argos with a prosperous gale,   

As when the fire furiously rushes  
O'er a a hills top, through dry furs-bushes,  
More and more still amain it blazes,  
And at it all the country gazes,  
So while the Greeks marched, at the glaring  
Of their bright arms, the god's stood staring,  
As flocks of wildfowl fly together,  
(Wither 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 flowery banks  
Did march the Grecian Files, and ranks,  
The very ground did roar again,  
Beat with the 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  hoofs of horse, and men,  
Their number vied with Summer's Flowers,  
Or leaves brought forth by April showers,  
Or might compare with flies, when th' air is  
Sultry, that fly about the dayries,  
So numerous a force did rally  
Before Troy Town, then, in that Valley,  
Then, just as neighbours highly Piglie,  
Let their beasts graze, but then can quickly,  
Knowing the ear mark of their own,  
Spy 'em from every one's i'th' Town,  
And, doing damage 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 marched, the van Atrides lead,  
His staring Eyes, and beetle head,  
Were like great jupiter the thunderer's,  
His belt resembled Mars the plunderer's,  
His breast like Neptune's, thus to battle,  
Like one Bull 'mongst so many cattle,  
He lead the men of his own Town,  
Thus that day jove gave him renown,  
And over's neighbours, set this beast,  
Exalting's horn above the rest.   
The remnant of this Second Rhapsody, being only a bead-roll of hard Names, was purposely left out.  
The END.