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diff --git a/43723-0.txt b/43723-0.txt index bcb217e..9181b22 100644 --- a/43723-0.txt +++ b/43723-0.txt @@ -1,30 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Burlesque Translation of Homer, by Thomas Bridges - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A Burlesque Translation of Homer - -Author: Thomas Bridges - -Release Date: September 14, 2013 [eBook #43723] -[Most recently updated: October 24, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Marc D’Hooghe - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43723 *** A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER. @@ -14983,354 +14957,4 @@ city from horned cattle. END OF VOLUME II. - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Burlesque Translation of Homer</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Thomas Bridges</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 14, 2013 [eBook #43723]<br /> -[Most recently updated: October 24, 2021]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Marc D’Hooghe</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER ***</div> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43723 ***</div> <h1>A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER.</h1> @@ -148,11 +70,8 @@ country where you are located before using this eBook. <h2>THOMAS BRIDGES</h2> - - <h4>THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED.</h4> - <h4>VOL. I.</h4> <div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> @@ -190,9 +109,8 @@ curandum.</i></p> <p class="capt">Homer casting pearls before Swine.</p> </div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> @@ -217,10 +135,8 @@ Juno at last was over-aw'd,<br/> Or Jove had been well clapper-claw'd.<br/> </p> - <h4>SOMETHING BY WAY OF PREFACE.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Good people, would you know the reason<br/> I write at this unlucky season,<br/> @@ -254,14 +170,12 @@ This is the wherefore; and the why,<br/> Have patience, you'll see by-and-by.<br/> </p> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK I.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Come, Mrs. Muse, but, if a maid,<br/> Then come Miss Muse, and lend me aid!<br/> @@ -1455,7 +1369,6 @@ His sceptre rais'd, she soon knock'd under.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> <div class="footnote"> - <p><a name="fn1.1" id="fn1.1"></a> <a href="#fnref1.1">[1]</a> Every body knows Ulysses could lie with a very grave face.</p></div> @@ -1464,14 +1377,12 @@ face.</p></div> <p><a name="fn1.2" id="fn1.2"></a> <a href="#fnref1.2">[2]</a> Homer makes the gods go home at sun-set; I wish he could make all country justices and parsons do the same.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Jove, or by fame he much bely'd is,<br/> Sends off a Dream to hum Atrides:<br/> @@ -1514,12 +1425,10 @@ They nick the time, and make a muster.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> - <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK II.</h4> - <p class="verse"> The watch past twelve o'clock were roaring,<br/> And citizens in bed were snoring,<br/> @@ -2450,11 +2359,10 @@ They made thunder formerly in the play-houses by rolling a ball in an empty mustard bowl.</p></div> <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Now all the troops in order plac'd,<br/> Against their minds, each other fac'd;<br/> @@ -2488,10 +2396,9 @@ They cry'd Encore, our author's silent.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> -<h3><a name="HOMERS_ILIAD" id="HOMERS_ILIAD">HOMER'S ILIAD.</a></h3> - -<h4><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III">BOOK III.</a></h4> +<h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> +<h4>BOOK III.</h4> <p class="verse"> Thus muster'd by their leaders' care,<br/> @@ -3343,8 +3250,7 @@ And swore the Trojans should stand by't.<br/> <hr class="chap" /> - -<h3>THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD</h3> +<h2>THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> @@ -3383,7 +3289,6 @@ Who sup and blow, and blow and sup.<br/> </p> </div> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> @@ -4405,14 +4310,12 @@ W-stm—ster H-ll</p></div> It is supposed they were knights of the Black Ram, or some such noble order; which is no objection to their being lords likewise.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Pallas, who on the Grecian side is,<br/> Supports the courage of Tydides,<br/> @@ -4454,14 +4357,12 @@ Who made more noise by far with roaring,<br/> Than the whole bench of judges snoring.<br/> </p> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK V.</h4> - <p class="verse"> And now this scratching kicking jade,<br/> By poets call'd the martial maid,<br/> @@ -6001,10 +5902,9 @@ Menelaus.</p></div> The author could not help letting Mars talk in a soldier-like style.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> @@ -6037,12 +5937,10 @@ Some crumbs of comfort on his wife.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> - <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK VI.</h4> - <p class="verse"> The squabbling gods the fight forsake.<br/> And leave mankind to brew and bake<br/> @@ -7076,8 +6974,7 @@ Hecuba.</p></div> <hr class="chap" /><hr class="tb" /> - -<h1>A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER.</h1> +<h2>A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER.</h2> <h3>IN TWO VOLUMES.</h3> @@ -7085,11 +6982,8 @@ Hecuba.</p></div> <h2>THOMAS BRIDGES</h2> - - <h4>THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED.</h4> - <h4>VOL. II.</h4> <div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> @@ -7122,13 +7016,10 @@ curandum.</i></p> <hr class="chap" /> - -<h3>THE SEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> - +<h2>THE SEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> When Hector got upon the plain,<br/> They fell to loggerheads again;<br/> @@ -7187,14 +7078,12 @@ Till Jove, to stop his guts from rumbling,<br/> Promis'd the wall should soon come tumbling.<br/> </p> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD</h4> <h4>BOOK VII.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Thus spake this Trojan heart of oak,<br/> And thunder'd through the gate like smoke;<br/> @@ -8171,7 +8060,6 @@ And beg such coil he would not keep,<br/> But let the maudlin knaves go sleep.<br/> </p> - <div class="footnote"> <p><a name="fn7.1" id="fn7.1"></a> <a href="#fnref7.1">[1]</a> @@ -8198,14 +8086,12 @@ synagogue, he observed the most devout of them making confounded ugly faces. What reason they have for striving to put on worse phizzes than God has given them, he cannot tell.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Jove calls his under-strappers round him,<br/> And in a dev'lish rage they found him.<br/> @@ -8273,7 +8159,6 @@ And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke.<br/> <h4>BOOK VIII.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Aurora was the skies adorning,<br/> Or, in plain English, it was morning,<br/> @@ -9434,8 +9319,7 @@ very small, and thrown through the flame of a candle.</p></div> <hr class="chap" /> - -<h3>THE NINTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE NINTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> @@ -9471,14 +9355,12 @@ Achilles turn'd it all to farce,<br/> And clapp'd his hand upon his a—e.<br/> </p> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK IX.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Whilst Troy's bold sons with shouts get drunk,<br/> The conquer'd Grecians sweat and funk.<br/> @@ -11092,14 +10974,12 @@ cannon into a concert.</p></div> Through the Devil's Gap was the way to the Duke of Newcastle's.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE TENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE TENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Finding that no Achilles comes,<br/> Poor Agamemnon bites his thumbs;<br/> @@ -11127,14 +11007,12 @@ For, after stealing sev'ral purses,<br/> They stole a special pair of horses.<br/> </p> - <hr class="r5" /> <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK X.</h4> - <p class="verse"> The Greeks, though sorely drubb'd all day,<br/> Asleep before their scullers lay—<br/> @@ -12442,14 +12320,12 @@ Then smoke their pipes, and drink, and funk,<br/> Till every soul got bloody drunk!<br/> </p> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> The Grecian chief his jacket put on,<br/> Though there was not a single button,<br/> @@ -12518,12 +12394,10 @@ Stay'd him till he had spread a plaster.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> - <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK XI.</h4> - <p class="verse"> And now the Morn, with yellow locks,<br/> From Tithon's hammock stuff'd with flocks,<br/> @@ -14323,14 +14197,12 @@ Fried beef and cabbage is a dish so well known by the name of bubble-and-squeak in town, that it is only for the sake of my country readers I insert this note.</p></div> - <hr class="chap" /> -<h3>THE TWELFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h3> +<h2>THE TWELFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.</h2> <h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> - <p class="verse"> The Grecian curl'd and knotty pates<br/> Are driv'n behind their shabby gates.<br/> @@ -14371,12 +14243,10 @@ And drives them all on board their boats.<br/> <hr class="r5" /> - <h4>HOMER'S ILIAD.</h4> <h4>BOOK XII.</h4> - <p class="verse"> Now whilst Patroclus play'd the quack,<br/> The mob each other's bones did thwack,<br/> @@ -15320,448 +15190,6 @@ together.</p></div> <h4>END OF VOLUME II.</h4> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43723 ***</div> </body> </html> diff --git a/old/43723-8.txt b/old/43723-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 681a877..0000000 --- a/old/43723-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15358 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's A Burlesque Translation of Homer, by Thomas Bridges - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: A Burlesque Translation of Homer - -Author: Thomas Bridges - -Release Date: September 14, 2013 [EBook #43723] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - - - - -Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org -(Scans generously made available by the Internet Archive -- Pittsburgh University.) - - - - - -A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER. - -IN TWO VOLUMES. - -BY - -THOMAS BRIDGES - - - -THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED. - - -VOL. I. - -[Illustration] - -LONDON. - -Printed for G.G. and J. ROBINSON, Paternoster-Row - -1797. - - - -<i>Dilucida et negligenter quoque audientibus aperta; ut in animum ratio -tanquam sol in oculos, etiamsi in eam non intendatur, occurrat. Quare, -non ut intelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere, -curandum.</i> - -QUINTIL. - - If you would make a speech, or write one, - Or get some artist to indite one, - Don't think, because 'tis understood - By men of sense, 'tis therefore good; - But let your words so well be plann'd, - That blockheads can't misunderstand. - - - -[Illustration: frontispiece: Homer casting pearls before Swine.] - - - - - - THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - Atrides, as the story goes, - Took parson Chrysis by the nose. - Apollo, as the gods all do, - Of Christian, Pagan, Turk, or Jew, - On that occasion did not fail - To back his parson tooth and nail. - This caus'd a dev'lish quarrel 'tween - Pelides and the king of men; - Which ended to Achilles' cost, - Because a buxom wench he lost. - On which great Jove and's wife fell out, - And made a damn'd confounded rout: - And, had not honest Vulcan seen 'em - Ready for blows, and stepp'd between 'em; - 'Tis two to one but their dispute - Had ended in a scratching-bout. - Juno at last was over-aw'd, - Or Jove had been well clapper-claw'd. - - - - - - SOMETHING BY WAY OF PREFACE. - - - - Good people, would you know the reason - I write at this unlucky season, - When all the nation is so poor - That few can keep above one whore, - Except the lawyers--(whose large fees - Maintain as many as they please)-- - And Pope, with taste and judgement great, - Has deign'd this author to translate-- - The reason's this:--He may not please - The jocund tribe so well as these; - For all capacities can't climb - To comprehend the true sublime. - Another reason I can tell, - Though silence might do full as well; - But being charg'd--discharge I must, - For bladder, if too full, will burst. - The writers of the merry class, - E'er since the time of Hudibras, - In this strange blunder all agree, - To murder short-legg'd poetry. - Words, though design'd to make ye smile, - Why mayn't they run as smooth as oil? - No poetaster can convince - A man of any kind of sense, - That verse can be the greater treasure, - Because it wants both weight and measure - Or can persuade, that false rough metre, - Than true and smooth, by far is sweeter. - This is the wherefore; and the why, - Have patience, you'll see by-and-by. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK I. - - - - Come, Mrs. Muse, but, if a maid, - Then come Miss Muse, and lend me aid! - Ten thousand jingling verses bring, - That I Achilles' wrath may sing, - That I may chant in curious fashion - This doughty hero's boiling passion, - Which plagu'd the Greeks; and gave 'em double - A Christian's share of toil and trouble, - And, in a manner quite uncivil, - Sent many a Broughton to the devil; - Leaving their carcasses on rows, - Food for great dogs and carrion crows. - To this sad pass the bully's freaks - Had brought his countryfolks the Greeks! - But who the devil durst say no, - Since surly Jove would have it so? - Come tell us then, dear Miss, from whence - The quarrel rose: who gave th' offence? - Latona's son, with fiery locks, - Amongst them sent both plague and pox. - And prov'd most damnably obdurate, - Because the king had vex'd his curate; - For which offence the god annoy'd 'em, - And by whole waggon-loads destroy'd 'em. - - [Illustration: Book I, page 4. - A red nosed priest came hobbling after - With presents to redeem his daughter. - Like a poor supplicant did stand, - With an old garland in his hand, - Filch'd from a maypole.--] - - The case was this: These sons of thunder - Took a plump wench amongst their plunder. - A red-nos'd priest came hobbling after, - With presents to redeem his daughter; - Like a poor supplicant did stand, - With an old garland in his hand - Filch'd from a May-pole, and to boot - A constable's short staff lugg'd out. - These things, he told the chief that kept her, - Were his old master's crown and sceptre; - Then to the captains made a speech, - And to the brothers joint, and each: - - Ye Grecian constables so stout, - May you all live to see Troy out; - And when you've pull'd it to the ground, - May you get home both safe and sound! - Was Jove but half the friend that I am, - You quickly should demolish Priam; - But, since the town his godship spares, - I'll help you all I can with pray'rs. - For my part, if you'll but restore - My daughter, I'll desire no more. - You'll hardly guess the many shifts - I made to raise you all these gifts. - If presents can't for favour plead, - Then let your pity take the lead. - Should you refuse, Apollo swears, - He'll come himself, and lug your ears. - - The Grecians by their shouts declare - Th' old gentleman spoke very fair; - They swore respect to him was due, - And he should have his daughter too: - For he had brought, to piece the quarrel, - Of Yarmouth herrings half a barrel. - No wonder then their mouths should water - More for his herrings than his daughter. - But Agamemnon, who with care - Had well examin'd all her ware, - And guess'd that neither Troy nor Greece - Could furnish such another piece, - Roars out: You make a cursed jargon! - But take me with ye ere you bargain: - My turn's to speak; and as for you, Sir, - This journey you may chance to rue, Sir: - Nor shall your cap and gilded stick - Preserve your buttocks from a kick, - Unless you show your heels, and so - Escape the rage of my great toe. - What priest besides thyself e'er grumbled - To have his daughter tightly tumbled? - Then don't provoke me by your stay, - But get you gone, Sir, whilst you may. - I love the girl, and sha'nt part with her - Till age has made her hide whit-leather. - I'll keep her till I can no more, - And then I will not turn her o'er, - But with my goods at Argos land her, - And to my own old mansion hand her, - Where she shall card, and spin, and make - The bed which she has help'd to shake. - From all such blubb'ring rogues, depend on't, - I'll hold her safe, so mark the end on't. - Then cease thy canting sobs and groans, - And scamper ere I break thy bones. - - Away then sneak'd the harmless wizard, - Grumbling confoundedly i' th' gizzard, - And, as in doleful dumps he pass'd, - Look'd sharp for fear of being thrash'd. - But out of harm's way when he got, - To Phoebus he set up his throat: - Smintheus, Latona's son and heir, - Cilla's chief justice, hear my pray'r! - Thou link-boy of the world, that dost - In Chrysa's village rule the roast, - And know'st the measure, <i>inter nos</i>, - Of ev'ry wench in Tenedos, - Rat-catcher general of heaven, - Remember how much flesh I've given - To stay your stomach; beef and mutton - I never fail'd your shrine to put on; - And, as I knew you lik'd them dearly, - I hung a dozen garlands yearly - About your church, nor charg'd the warden - Or overseers a single farthing; - But paid the charge and swept the gallery - Out of my own poor lousy salary. - This I have done, I'll make't appear, - For more than five-and-fifty year. - In recompense I now insist - The Grecians feel thy toe and fist; - For sure thou canst not grudge the least - To vindicate so good a priest. - - Thus Chrysis pray'd: in dreadful ire, - The carrot-pated god took fire; - But ere he stirr'd he bent his bow, - That he might have the less to do, - Resolv'd before he did begin - To souse 'em whilst his hand was in. - Fierce as he mov'd the Greeks to find, - He made a rumbling noise behind; - His guts with grumbling surely never - Could roar so loud--it was his quiver, - Which, as he trotted, with a thwack - Rattled against his raw-bone back. - In darkness he his body shrouds, - By making up a cloak of clouds. - But, when he came within their view, - Twang went his trusty bow of yew: - He first began with dogs and mules, - And next demolish'd knaves and fools. - Nine nights he never went to sleep, - And knock'd 'em down like rotten sheep; - And would have sous'd 'em all, but Juno, - A scolding b----h as any you know, - Came and explain'd the matter fully - To Thetis' son, the Grecian bully, - Who ran full speed to summon all - The common council to the hall. - When seated, with a solemn look - Achilles rose, and thus he spoke: - - Neighbours, can any Grecian say - We ought not all to run away - From this curst place without delay? - Else soon our best and bravest cocks - Will be destroy'd by plague or pox. - We cannot long, though Jove doth back us, - Resist, whilst two such foes attack us. - I think 'tis time to spare the few - Our broils have left; but what think you? - A cunning man perhaps may tell us - The reason why this plague befel us - Or an old woman, that can dream, - May help us out in this extreme; - For dreams, if rightly you attend 'em, - Are true, when Jove thinks fit to send 'em. - Thus may we form some judgment what - This same Apollo would be at; - Whether he mauls each wicked sinner, - Because a mighty pimping dinner - He often had but then he knew - That we had damn'd short commons too. - If 'tis for that he makes such stir, - He's not the man I took him for: - But, as I've reason for my fears, - I vote to pay him all arrears. - Therefore let such a man be found, - Either above or under ground, - To tell us quickly how we may - In proper terms begin to pray, - That he may ease us of these curses, - And stay at home and mind his horses-- - Much better bus'ness for the spark - Than shooting Grecians in the dark. - - He said, and squatting on his breech, - Calchas rose up, and look'd on each: - With caution he began to speak - A speech compos'd of purest Greek. - He was a wizard, and could cast - A figure to find out things past; - And things to come he could foretel, - Almost as well as Sydrophel. - The diff'rent languages he knew - Of every kind of bird that flew, - Each word could construe that they spoke. - Or screech-owl's scream, or raven's croak, - And, by a science most profound, - Distinguish rotten eggs from sound. - When first the Grecians mann'd their boats - To sail and cut the Trojans' throats, - Safely to steer 'em through the tide, - They chose this wizard for their guide. - As slow as clock-work he arose, - Then with his fingers wip'd his nose: - Dubious to speak or hold his tongue, - His words betwixt his teeth were hung: - But, having shook 'em from his jaws, - As dogs shake weasels from their nose, - Away they came both loud and clear, - And told his mind, as you shall hear: - - Thou that art Jove's respected friend, - To what I speak be sure attend, - And in a twinkling shalt thou know, - Why Phoebus smokes the Grecians so, - But promise, should the chief attack me, - That thou my bully-rock wilt back me; - Because I know things must come out, - Will gripe him to the very <i>gut</i>. - These monarchs are so proud and haughty, - Subjects can't tell them when they're faulty, - Because, though now their fury drops, - Somehow or other out it pops. - And this remember whilst you live, - When kings can't punish, they'll forgive. - - Achilles thus: Old cock, speak out, - Speak freely without fear or doubt. - Smite my old pot-lid! but, so long - As I draw breath amidst this throng. - The bloodiest cur in all the crew - Sha'n't dare so much as bark at you: - Not e'en the chief, so grum and tall, - Who sits two steps above us all. - - These words the doubtful conj'ror cheer, - Who then proceeded without fear: - To th' gods you never play'd the thief, - But paid them well with tripe or beef; - But 'tis our chief provok'd Apollo - With this curst plague our camp to follow - Because his priest was vilely us'd, - His daughter kiss'd, himself abus'd. - The curate's pray's caus'd these disorders: - Gods fight for men in holy orders. - Nor will he from his purpose flinch, - Nor will his godship budge one inch, - But without mercy, great and small, - Will never cease to sweat us all, - If Agamemnon doth not send her, - With cooks and statesmen to attend her. - Then let's in haste the girl restore - Without a ransom; and, what's more, - Let's rams, and goats, and oxen give, - That priests and gods may let us live. - - Ready to burst with vengeful ire, - That made his bloodshot eyes strike fire, - Atrides, with an angry scowl, - Replies, The devil fetch your soul! - I've a great mind, you lousy wizard, - To lay my fist across your mazzard. - Son of an ugly squinting bitch, - Pray who the pox made you a witch? - I don't believe, you mongrel dog, - You ken a handsaw from a hog; - Nor know, although you thus dare flounce, - How many f----s will make an ounce; - And yet, an imp, can always see - Some mischief cooking up for me, - And think, because you are a priest, - You safely may with captains jest. - But I forewarn thee, shun the stroke, - Nor dare my mighty rage provoke. - A pretty fellow thou! to teach - Our men to murmur at thy speech, - Tell lies as thick as you can pack 'em, - And bring your wooden gods to back 'em - And all because a girl I keep - For exercise, to make me sleep. - Besides, the wench does all things neatly, - And <i>handles</i> my <i>affairs</i> completely. - She hems, marks linen, and she <i>stitches</i>, - And mends my doublet, hose, and breeches, - My Clytemnestra well I love, - But not so well as her, by Jove! - Yet, since you say we suffer slaughter - Because I kiss this parson's daughter, - Then go she must; I'll let her go, - Since the cross gods will have it so; - Rather than Phoebus thus shall drive, - And slay the people all alive, - From this dear loving wench I'll part, - The only comfort of my heart. - But, since I must resign for Greece, - I shall expect as good a <i>piece</i>: - 'Tis a great loss, and by my soul - All Greece shall join to make me whole! - Don't think that I, of all that fought, - Will take a broken pate for nought. - - Achilles, starting from his breech, - Replies, By Jove, a pretty speech! - Think'st thou the troops will in her stead - Send what they got with broken head; - Or that we shall esteem you right in - Purloining what we earn'd by fighting? - You may with bullying face demand, - But who the pox will understand? - If thou for plunder look'st, my boy, - Enough of that there is in Troy: - Her apple-stalls we down may pull, - And then we'll stuff thy belly full. - - The chief replies: For you, Achilles, - I care not two-pence; but my will is - Not to submit to be so serv'd, - And thou lie warm whilst I am starv'd. - Though thou in battle mak'st brave work, - Can beat the devil, pope, and Turk, - With Spaniards, Hollanders, and French, - I won't for that give up my wench: - Nor shall I, Mr. Bluff, d'ye see, - Resign my girl to pleasure thee. - Let something be produc'd to view, - Which I may have of her in lieu, - Something that's noble, great and good, - Worthy a prince of royal blood; - Just such another I should wish her, - As sev'n years since was Kitty Fisher; - Or else I will, since you provoke, - At all your prizes have a stroke; - Ulysses' booty will I seize, - Or thine or Ajax', if I please. - The man that's hurt may bawl and roar, - And swear, but he can do no more. - But this some other time may do, - I must go launch a sand-barge now: - Victuals and cooks I must take care, - With oars and pilots, to prepare; - See the ropes tarr'd, the bottom mended, - And the old sails well piec'd and bended - Then put the wench on board the boat, - Attended by some man of note, - By Creta's chief, or, if he misses, - By Ajax, or by sly Ulysses; - Or, if I please, I'll make you skip - Aboard, as captain of the ship. - We make no doubt but you with ease - His angry godship may appease; - Or else your goggle eyes, that fright us, - May scare him so he'll cease to smite us. - - You would have sworn this mortal twitch - Had given old Peleus' son the itch, - So hard he scratch'd; at last found vent, - And back to him this answer sent: - - Thou wretch, to all true hearts a stain, - Thou damn'd infernal rogue in grain! - Thou greater hypocrite than G-ml-y, - Thou dirtier dog than Jeremy L----y! - Whose deeds, like thine, will ever be - A scandal to nobility; - From this good day I hope no chief - Will fight thy broils, or eat thy beef. - How canst thou hope thy men will stand, - When under such a rogue's command? - What bus'ness I to fight thy battle? - The Trojans never stole my cattle. - My farm, secur'd by rocks and sands, - Was safe from all their thieving bands. - My steeds fed safe, both grey and dapple; - Nor could they steal a single apple - From any orchard did belong - To me, my fences were so strong. - I kept off all such sons of bitches - With quick-set hedges fac'd with ditches. - Our farm can all good things supply, - Our men can box, and so can I. - Hither we came, 'tis shame I'm sure, - To fight, for what? an arrant whore! - A pretty story this to tell. - Instead of being treated well, - As a reward for all our blows, - We're kick'd about by your dog's nose. - And dar'st thou think to seize my plunder, - For which I made the battle thunder, - And men and horses truckle under? - No! since it was the Grecians' gift, - To keep it I shall make a shift. - What wouldst thou have? thou hadst the <i>best</i> - Of every thing; nay, 'tis no jest: - But you take care to leave, I see, - The fighting trade to fools like me. - In this you show the statesman's skill, - To let fools fight whilst you sit still. - First I'm humbugg'd with some poor toy, - Then clapp'd o' th' back, and call'd brave boy. - This shall no more hold water, friend: - My 'prenticeship this day shall end. - When I go, and my men to boots, - I leave thee then a king of clouts. - - The general gave him tit for tat, - And answer'd, cocking first his hat: - Go, and be hang'd, you blust'ring whelp, - Pray who the murrain wants your help? - When you are gone, I know there are - Col'nels sufficient for the war, - Militia bucks that know no fears, - Brave fishmongers and auctioneers. - Besides, great Jove will fight for us, - What need we then this mighty fuss? - Thou lov'st to quarrel, fratch, and jangle, - To scold and swear, and fight and wrangle. - Great strength thou hast, and pray what then? - Art thou so stupid, canst not ken, - The gods, that ev'ry thing can see, - Give strength to bears as well as thee? - Of all Jove's sons, a bastard host, - For reasons good, I hate thee most. - Prithee be packing; thou'rt not fit, - Or here to stand, or there to sit: - In your own parish kick your scrubs, - They're taught to bear such kind of rubs; - But, for my part, I scorn the help - Of such a noisy, bullying whelp: - Go therefore, friend, and learn at school, - First to obey, and then to rule. - The gods they say for Chryseis send, - And to restore her I intend; - But look what follows, Mr. Bully! - See if I don't convince thee fully, - That thy bluff wench with sandy hair - The loss I suffer shall repair: - I'll let thee feel what 'tis to be - A rival to a chief like me; - That thou and all these folks may know, - Great men are only subject to - The gods, or right or wrong they do. - - Had you but seen Achilles fret it, - I think you never could forget it; - A sight so dreadful ne'er was seen, - He sweat for very rage and spleen: - Long was he balanc'd at both ends; - When reason mounted, rage descends; - The last commanded sword lug out; - The first advis'd him not to do't. - With half-drawn weapon fierce he stood, - Eager to let the general blood; - When Pallas, swift descending down, - Lent him a knock upon the crown; - Then roar'd as loud as she could yelp, - Lugging his ears, 'Tis I, you whelp! - Now Mrs. Juno, 'cause they both - Were fav'rites, was exceeding loth - To have 'em quarrel; so she sent - This wench all mischief to prevent, - And, to obstruct her being seen, - Lent her a cloud to make a screen. - - Pelides wonder'd who could be - So bold, and turn'd about to see: - He knew the twinkling of her eyes, - And loud as he could bawl, he cries, - Goddess of Wisdom! pray what weather - Has blown your goatskin doublet hither? - Howe'er, thou com'st quite opportune - To see how basely I'm run down; - Thou com'st most <i>à-propos incog.</i> - To see how I will trim this dog: - For, by this trusty blade, his life - Or mine shall end this furious strife! - - To whom reply'd the blue-ey'd Pallas, - I come to save thee from the gallows: - Thou'rt surely either mad or drunk, - To threaten murder for a punk: - Prithee, now let this passion cool; - For once be guided by a fool. - From heav'n I sous'd me down like thunder, - To keep your boiling passion under; - For white-arm'd Juno bid me say, - Let reason now thy passion sway, - And give it vent some other day; - Sheathe thy cheese-toaster in its case, - But call him scoundrel to his face. - To Juno both alike are dear, - And both alike to me, I'll swear. - In a short time the silly whelp - Will give a guinea for thy help; - Only just now revenge forbear, - And be content to scold and swear. - - Achilles thus: With ears and eyes - I mind thee, goddess bold and wise! - 'Tis hard; but since 'tis your command, - Depend upon't I'll hold my hand-- - Knowing, if your advice I take, - Some day a recompense you'll make: - Besides, of all the heavenly crew, - I pay the most regard to you. - This said, he rams into the sheath - His rusty instrument of death. - - (Pallas then instantly took flight, - Astride her broom-stick, out of sight; - And ere you could repeat twice seven, - Had reach'd the outward gate of heaven.) - His gizzard still was mighty hot, - And boil'd like porridge in a pot; - Atrides he did so randan, - He call'd him all but gentleman; - By Jove, says he, thou'rt always drunk, - And always squabbling for a punk. - Thou dog in face! thou deer in heart! - Thou call'd a fighter! thou a f--t! - When didst thou e'er in ambush lie, - Unless to seize some mutton pie? - And there you're safe, because you can - Run faster than the baker's man. - When fighting comes you bid us fight, - And claim the greatest profit by't. - Great Agamemnon safer goes, - To rob his friends than plunder foes: - And he who dares to contradict - Is sure to have his pockets pick'd: - Hear then, you pilfering dirty cur, - Whose thieving makes so great a stir; - And let the crowd about us hear - What I by this same truncheon swear, - Which to the tree whereon it grew - Will never join, nor I with you, - The devil fetch me if I do! - Therefore, I say, by this same stick, - Expect no more I'll come i' th' nick - Your luggs to save: let Hector souse ye, - And with his trusty broomshaft douse ye. - God help us all, I know thou'lt say, - Then stare and gape, and run away: - All this will happen, I conjecture, - The very next time you see Hector; - And then thyself thou'lt hang, I trow, - For using great Achilles so. - This said, his truncheon, gilded all - Like ginger-bread upon a stall, - Around the top and bottom too, - Slap bang upon the floor he threw. - His wrath Atrides could not hold, - But cock'd his mouth again to scold, - And talk'd away at such a rate, - He distanc'd hard-mouth'd scolding Kate, - The orator of Billingsgate. - - Whilst thus they rant and scold and swear - Old Square-toes rises from his chair; - With honey words your ears he'd sooth, - Pomatum was not half so smooth. - Nestor had fill'd the highest stations - For almost three whole generations; - At ev'ry meeting took the chair, - Had been a dozen times lord-mayor, - And, what you hardly credit will, - Remain'd a fine old Grecian still. - On him with gaping jaws they look, - Whilst the old coney-catcher spoke: - To Greece 'twill be a burning shame, - But to the Trojans special game, - That our best leaders, men so stout, - For whores and rogues should thus fall out: - Young men the old may treat as mules, - We know full well young men are fools; - Therefore, to lay the case before ye - Plain as I can, I'll tell a story: - I once a set of fellows knew, - All hearts of oak, and backs of yew: - To look for such would be in vain, - I ne'er shall see the like again. - Though bruis'd from head to foot they fought on, - Pirithous was himself a Broughton. - Bold Dryas was as hard as steel, - His knuckles would make Buckhurst feel; - And strong-back'd Theseus, though a sailor, - Would single-handed beat the Nailor. - Great Polyphemus too I brag on, - He fought and kick'd like Wantley's dragon; - And Cineus often would for fun - Make constables and watchmen run. - Such were my cronies, rogues in buff, - Who taught me how to kick and cuff. - With these the boar stood little chance; - They made the four-legg'd Centaurs prance. - Now these brave boys, these hearts of oak, - Were all attention when I spoke; - And listen'd to my fine oration - Like Whitfield's gaping congregation: - Though I was young, they thought me wise; - You sure may now with me advise. - Atrides, don't Briseis seek; - For, if you do, depend, each Greek, - The dastard rogue as well as brave, - Will say our king's both fool and knave. - The want of brains is no great shame, - 'Cause nature there is most to blame; - But this plain fact by all is known, - If you're a rogue, the fault's your own. - Achilles, don't you play the fool, - And snub the king; for he must rule. - Thou art in fight the first, I grant; - As brave as Mars, or John-a-Gaunt: - But then you must allow one thing, - No man should scold and huff a king. - Matters you know are just this length, - He has got pow'r, and you have strength - Of each let's take a proper sup - To make a useful mixture up. - Do you, Atrides, strive to ease - Your heart; this bully I'll appease. - I'd rather give five hundred pound - Than have Pelides quit the ground. - Bravo! old boy! the king replies, - I swear my vet'ran's wondrous wise: - But that snap-dragon won't submit - To laws, unless he thinks 'em fit; - Because he can the Trojans swinge, - He fancies I to him should cringe: - But I, in spite of all his frumps, - Shall make him know I'm king of trumps. - - Achilles quickly broke the thread - Of this fine speech; and thus he said: - - Now, smite me, but I well deserv'd - To be so us'd, when first I serv'd - So great a rogue as you; but damn me - If you another day shall flam me: - Seize my Briseis, if you list, - I've pass'd my word I won't resist; - Safely then do it, for no more, - For any woman, wife or whore, - Achilles boxes; but take care - Your scoundrels steal no other ware: - No more Achilles dare t'affront, - Lest he should call thee to account, - And the next scurvy squabble close, - By wringing off thy snotty nose. - - This Billingsgate affair being o'er, - Sullen they turn'd 'em to the door. - Achilles in a hurry went, - And sat down sulky in his tent: - Patroclus, as a friend should do, - Both grumbled and look'd sulky too. - Mean time Atrides fitted out - From Puddle Dock a smuggling-boat. - On deck Miss Chryseis took her stand; - Ulysses had the chief command. - The off'rings in the hold they stuff'd, - Then, all sails set, away they luff'd. - The chol'ric chief doth next essay - The soldiers' filth to wash away; - A cart and horse to every tent, - He with a noisy bellman sent: - The bell did signify, You must - Without delay bring out your dust: - Then made 'em stand upon the shore, - And wash their dirty limbs all o'er: - Next, by advice of Doctor Grimstone, - He rubb'd their mangey joints with brimstone, - Because, when first they sally'd forth, - Some mercenaries from the north - Had brought a queer distemper, which - The learned doctors call'd the itch. - He next begins to cut the throats - Of bulls, and sheep, and lambs, and goats; - The legs and loins in order laid, - To Phoebus all his share is paid: - Apollo, as the smoke arose, - Snuff'd ev'ry atom up his nose; - And, rather than they would provoke him, - They sent him smoke enough to choke him. - Still in the midst of all this coil, - Atrides felt his ewer boil: - Talthybius and Euribates, - Two ticket porters, did await his - Dread will, to carry goods and chattels, - Or run with messages in battles: - To these he speaks:--Ye scoundrels two, - What I command observe ye do; - Run to Achilles' tent, take heed, - And bring away his wench with speed; - Tell him you're order'd to attend her, - And I expect he'll quickly send her; - Else with a file of musqueteers - I'll beat his tent about his ears. - - [Illustration: Book I, page 41. - The hero in his tent they found, - His day-lights fixt upon the ground.] - - They hung an arse, what could they do? - They'd rather not, but yet must go: - Pensive they trod the barren sand, - On this side sea, on that side land, - And look'd extreme disconsolate, - Fearing at least a broken pate. - The hero in his tent they found, - His day-lights fix'd upon the ground: - They relish'd not his surly look, - So out of fear their distance took: - Quickly he guess'd they were in trouble, - And scorn'd to make their burden double - But with his finger, or his thumb, - Beckon'd the tardy knaves to come. - Ye trusty messengers, draw near, - And don't bedaub yourselves for fear, - Though you smell strong; but if 'tis so, - Pray clean yourselves before ye go; - Your master, if my thoughts prove true, - Will soon smell stronger far than you. - I partly guess for what you came; - Poor rogues, like you, should bear no blame. - Compell'd, you hither bent your way; - And servants always should obey. - Patroclus, fetch this square-stern'd jade, - Let her be to his tent convey'd: - But hark, ye messengers declare, - What I by Gog and Magog swear, - That though in blood all Greece shall wallow, - With fretting I'll consume no tallow, - But coolly let, and so I tell ye, - The Trojans beat your bones to jelly; - And if to me they are but civil, - May drive you scoundrels to the devil. - Your muddy-pated, hot-brain'd chief, - (Whose folly far exceeds belief) - When he has got a broken pate, - Will find himself an ass too late. - Mean time the bold Patroclus bears - The red-hair'd wench all drown'd in tears; - Who, with a woful heavy heart, - (As loth from his strong back to part) - Whilst with the porters twain she went, - Kept squinting backward to his tent. - - Now, when the buxom wench was gone, - What think you doth this lubber-loon, - But, when he found no mortal near him, - Roar so, 'twould do you good to hear him; - And hanging his great jolter head - O'er the salt sea, he sobb'd, and said: - - Oh, mother! since I'm to be shot, - Or some way else must go to pot, - I think great Jove, if he did right, - Should scour my fame exceeding bright. - 'Tis quite reverse: yon brazen knave - Has stole the plumpest wench I have; - And in the face of all the throng - Of constables has done me wrong. - - The goddess heard him under water, - And ran as fast as she could patter: - She saw he'd almost broke his heart, - And, like good mother, took his part: - - My son, I'm vext to hear thee cry; - Come, tell mamma the reason why. - From th' bottom of his wame he sigh'd, - And to his mammy thus reply'd: - - For what that rogue has made me cry, - You know, I'm sure, as well as I: - Yet since you bid me tell my story, - I'll whip it over in a hurry. - What think you that vile scoundrel's done, - That Agamemnon, to your son? - Because his pretty girl was gone, - He must have mine, forsooth, or none. - The Grecians gave to me this prize: - He huffs the Greeks, and damns their eyes. - We went to Thebes, and sack'd a village, - And brought away a world of pillage: - Amongst the plunder that was taken, - Besides fat geese, and eggs, and bacon, - We got some wenches plump and fair, - Of which one fell to that rogue's share: - But in the middle of our feast, - There came a hobbling red-nos'd priest; - In a great wallet that old dreamer - Had brought some presents to redeem her, - And made such humble supplication, - Attended with a fine oration, - That ev'ry Greek, except Atrides, - On the old hobbling parson's side is. - But he, of no one soul afraid, - Swore blood-and-oons he'd keep the maid - And, with an answer most uncivil, - Damn'd the old fellow to the devil. - The priest walk'd home in doleful dumps - (Like Witherington upon his stumps): - But, it is plain, he made a holla - That reach'd his loving friend Apollo; - For he in wrath, most furiously, - Began to smite us hip and thigh; - And had not I found out a prophet, - That told us all the reason of it, - Burn my old shoes, if e'er a sinner - Had now been left to eat a dinner; - But that, as sure as cits of London - Oft leave their spouses' business undone, - And trudge away to Russel-street - Some little dirty whore to meet, - Whilst the poor wife, to cure her dumps, - Works her apprentice to the stumps; - So sure this god, for rage or fun, - Had pepper'd ev'ry mother's son. - 'Twas I, indeed, did first advise - To cook him up a sacrifice, - And then his pardon strive to gain - By sending home the wench again; - For which the damn'd confounded churl - Swore he would have my bouncing girl: - And I this minute, you must know, - Like a great fool, have let her go: - For which, no doubt, it will be said - Your son has got a chuckle head. - To Jove then go, and catch him by - The hand, or foot, or knee, or thigh; - Hold him but fast, and coax him well. - And mind you that old story tell, - How you of all the gods held out - When they once rais'd a rebel rout, - And brought a giant from Guildhall - With face so grim he scar'd 'em all: - When once you'd got him rais'd above, - And plac'd him by the side of Jove, - So fast with both his hands he thunder'd, - The rebels swore he'd got a hundred, - Threw down the ropes they'd brought to bind 'em, - And, scamp'ring, never look'd behind 'em: - Tell him, for this, to drive pell mell - The Grecian sons of whores to hell, - That Atreus' son, that stupid fool, - May have no scoundrels left to rule; - And then he'll hang himself for spite, - He durst the boldest Grecian slight. - - His mother's heart was almost broke, - To hear how dolefully he spoke: - But having belch'd, she thus replies, - The salt brine running from her eyes: - - O Killey, since the Fates do stint - Thy precious life, the devil's in't - That thou must likewise bear to boots - This scurvy, mangey rascal's flouts: - But take thy mammy's good advice, - And his thee homeward in a trice; - Or, if thou'd rather choose to stay, - Don't help the dogs in any fray. - Depend upon't, to Jove I'll go, - And let him all the matter know: - He junkets now with swarthy faces - (For he, like men, has all his paces), - And will continue at the feast - Ten or eleven days at least: - Taking, like our Jamaica planters, - Their fill of what our vilest ranters - Would puke at but these kind of beast - Esteem it as a noble feast; - I mean the breaking-up the trenches - Of sooty, sweaty negro wenches - (Though most o' th' planters that thus roam, - Like Jove, have wife enough at home.) - Soon as his guts have got their fill, - I'll tell him all, by Jove I will! - Till he has granted my petition, - Don't stir to keep 'em from perdition; - Not e'en to save their souls, plague rot 'em! - So souse she plung'd, and reach'd the bottom. - - Mean time Ulysses, full of cares, - Had moor'd his boat at Chrysa's stairs: - When sails were furl'd, and all made snug, - They tipp'd the can, and pass'd the jug; - Then fell to work, and brought their store - Of cows and rotten sheep ashore: - This done, the last of all came out - The girl that caus'd this woful rout. - Ulysses, ever on the lurch, - Hurries the girl away to church, - Knowing full well that there he had - Best chance of finding her old dad; - And as he gave her to th' old man, - To lie[1] and cant he thus began: - - I come upon my bended knees, - Thine and Apollo's wrath t' appease; - And that I'm in good earnest, see - Thy girl come back, and ransom-free; - And, what I own is boldly said, - I've brought her with her maidenhead; - For which, I hope, our friend you'll stand, - That Sol may hold his heavy hand, - The parson hugg'd and kiss'd his daughter, - And shak'd the hands of them that brought her - So pleas'd to see the girl again, - He fell to prayers might and main; - And, whilst the Greeks the cattle slay, - The parson thus was heard to pray: - - Apollo, pr'ythee hear me now, - As eke thou didst nine days ago: - As thou at my request didst murder - The Grecians, pr'ythee go no further; - Hear, once again, thy priest's petition, - And mend their most bedaub'd condition. - - Apollo, as the sound drew near, - To ev'ry syllab lent an ear: - And now they fell to cutting throats - Of bulls and oxen, sheep and goats. - After the day-light god was serv'd, - The priest for all the people carv'd. - But how the hungry whoresons scaff'd; - How eagerly the beer they quaff'd, - Till they had left no single chink, - Either to hold more meat or drink, - None can describe: they grew so mellow, - Nothing was heard but whoop and halloo; - Rare songs they sung, and catches too-- - (The composition good and true) - Apollo made 'em, but took care - They should not last above a year, - Well knowing that the future race - Of men all knowledge would disgrace, - And that his lines must have great luck, - Not to give place to Stephen Duck. - - At sun-set all hands went from shore - On board their oyster-boat to snore. - I' th' morning, when they hoist their sail, - Apollo lent a mack'rel gale, - With which they nimbly cross'd the main, - And haul'd their boat ashore again. - - But now 'tis time we look about - And find the bold Achilles out: - Pensive he sat, and bit his thumbs; - No comfort yet, no mammy comes: - The days had number'd just eleven, - When Jupiter return'd to heaven; - He'd got his belly full of smacks - From thick-lip'd Ethiopian blacks. - - The mother on her word must think; - So up she mounted in a twink, - Approach'd his godship, whom she took - Fast by the hand, and thus she spoke: - - If ever I had luck to be - Useful in time of need to thee, - (Which, I am sure, you can't deny, - Unless you tell a cursed lie) - Quickly revenge th' affront that's done - By Agamemnon to my son. - Let Hector thrash 'em, if he list, - Till ev'ry Grecian rogue's bepiss'd, - And make them run like frighten'd rats - From mother Dobson's tabby cats. - - Whilst Jove considers what to say, - Onward she goes; she'll have no nay: - - You must with my request comply, - My dearest dad, so don't deny; - But let the heavenly rabble see - Some kindness is reserv'd for me. - - Then answers he who rolls the thunder: - I'm much amaz'd, and greatly wonder, - That you should thus attempt, with tears, - To set my rib and me by th' ears; - This, by my soul! will make rare work: - Juno will rate me like a Turk: - You surely know, and have known long, - The devil cannot match her tongue: - To Troy, I'm sure, I wish full well, - She ne'er forgets that tale to tell: - But his away from hence, lest she - Should spy you holding chat with me. - If I but say I'll grant your suit, - You may depend upon't I'll do't: - With head (observe) I'll make a nod, - That cannot be revers'd by god. - The thund'rer then his noddle shakes, - And Greece, like city custard, quakes. - Thetis, well pleas'd the Greeks to souse, - Dives under water like a goose; - Whilst Jove to th' upper house repairs, - And calls about him all his peers; - Who ran t' attend his call much faster - Than schoolboys run to meet their master. - All silent stood the gaping bevy, - Like sneaking courtiers at a levee, - Juno excepted: fear she scorns, - She hates all manners, damns all forms; - And because Jove had just been talking - With Thetis (nothing more provoking), - Her passion rose, and she ding dong - Would quarrel with him, right or wrong. - - 'Tis mighty civil, on my life, - To keep all secrets from your wife: - Is this the method, Mr. Jove, - You take to show your wife your love? - Pray who's that brimstone-looking quean, - With whom you whispering was seen? - Perhaps you're set some secret task, - And I'm impertinent to ask. - Is there a wife 'tween here and Styx, - Like me, would bear your whoring tricks? - But, goodman Roister! I'd have you know, - Though you are Jove, I still am Juno! - - Madam, says Jove, by all this prate, - I partly guess what you'd be at; - You want the secrets to disclose, - Which I conceal from friends and foes; - You only seek your own disquiet; - Secrets to women are bad diet. - A secret makes a desp'rate rumble, - Nor ceases in the gut to grumble - Till vent it finds; then out it flies, - Attended with ten thousand lies; - All characters to pieces tears, - And sets the neighbourhood by th' ears. - What's proper I'll to you relate, - The rest remains with me and Fate: - But from this day I'll order, no man - That's wise shall trust a tattling woman. - - The goddess with the goggle eyes - Roll'd 'em about, and thus replies: - - I find 'twill be in vain to plead, - When once you get it in your head - To contradict your loving wife; - You value neither noise nor strife, - But, spite of all that we can say, - You mules will always have your way. - But yet for Greece I'm sore afraid, - E'er since that cunning white-legg'd jade, - That Thetis, a long conf'rence had; - I'm sure she's hatching something bad, - And hath some mighty favour won - For her dear ranting roaring son? - Else, by my soul, you'd not have given - A nod that shook both earth and heaven; - Perhaps you'll take the whore's-bird's side, - And thrash my Grecians back and hide. - - Flux me! quoth Jove, thy jealous pate, - Instead of love, will move my hate. - I tell thee, cunning thou must be - To worm this secret out of me; - 'Tis better far, good wife, to cease - To plague me thus, and study peace; - Or if you want to make resistance, - Call all the gods to your assistance; - So all your jackets will I baste, - You'll not rebel again in haste. - - Juno, with face as broad as platter, - Soon found she had mista'en the master; - She relish'd not this surly dish, - So sat her down as mute as fish: - At which the guests were so confounded, - That all their mirth was well nigh drowned - Their knives and forks they every one - Before their greasy plates laid down; - Each mouth was ready cock'd, to beg - Leave to depart, and make a leg; - When Juno's son, ycleped Vulcan, - A special fellow at a full can, - Who was of handicrafts the top, - And kept a noted blacksmith's shop, - Where he made nets, steel caps, and thunder, - And finish'd potlids to a wonder; - He, finding things were going wrong, - And that they'd fall by th' ears ere long, - Starts up, and in a merry strain - Hammer'd a speech from his own brain. - - Quoth he, What pity 'tis that we, - Who should know nought but jollity, - Should scold and squabble, brawl and wrangle, - And about mortal scoundrels jangle! - In peace put we the can about, - Let Englishmen in drink fall out, - And, at the meetings of the trade, - Fight when the reck'ning should be paid. - Mother, you know not what you're doing; - To CALLOT thus will be your ruin; - He'll some time, in a dev'lish fury, - Do you some mischief, I'll assure you: - Yet, I'll lay sixpence to a farthing, - He'll kiss you, if you ask his pardon. - This said, a swingeing bowl he takes, - And drank it off for both their sakes; - Then with a caper fill'd another, - Which he presented to his mother: - - Not courtier-like I hand this bowl: - But take it from an honest soul, - That means and thinks whate'er he says; - It won't be so in future days: - Here, drink Jove's health, and own his sway: - You know all women must obey. - When once my father's in a passion, - He's dev'lish cross, hear my relation: - In your good cause I felt his twist, - My leg he seiz'd in his strong wrist; - In vain it was with him to grapple, - He grasp'd me as you would an apple; - And from his mutton-fist when hurl'd, - For three long days and nights I twirl'd; - At last upon the earth fell squash, - My legs were broken all to smash: - 'Tis true, they're set, as you may see, - But most folks think damn'd awkwardly. - He then the bowl, with clownish grace, - Fill'd round, and wip'd his sooty face, - Then limp'd away into his place. - - This cur'd them all from being dull, - And made 'em laugh their bellies full: - Once more their teeth to work they set, - And laid about 'em till they sweat, - Drinking, like well-fed aldermen, - A bumper every now and then, - Which they took care their guts to put in - Whilst t' other slice of beef was cutting; - For they, like cits, allow'd no crime - So great as that of losing time, - At home, abroad, or any meeting - Where the debate must end in eating. - Now they were in for't, all day long - They booz'd about, and had a song: - The fiddlers scrap'd both flat and sharp; - Apollo thrum'd the old Welch harp: - Nine ballad-singers from the street - Were fetch'd, with voices all so sweet, - Compar'd with them, Mansoli's squeaking - Would seem like rusty hinges creaking. - At sun-set[2], with a heavy head, - Each drunkard reel'd him home to bed, - Vulcan, who was the royal coiner, - Besides both carpenter and joiner, - Had built for every god a house, - And scorn'd to take a single sous. - Now night came on, the thund'rer led - His helpmate to her wicker bed; - There they agreed, and where's the wonder? - His sceptre rais'd, she soon knock'd under. - - - - [1] Every body knows Ulysses could lie with a very grave face. - - [2] Homer makes the gods go home at sun-set; I wish he could make all -country justices and parsons do the same. - - - - - THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Jove, or by fame he much bely'd is, - Sends off a Dream to hum Atrides: - His conscience telling him it meet is - To make his promise good to Thetis; - Gave it commission as it went, - To tell the cull by whom 'twas sent; - And bid it fill his head top full, - Of taking Troy, and cock and bull. - The Vision goes as it was bid, - And fairly turns the poor man's head, - Who eagerly began to stare - At castles building in the air, - And fancy'd, as the work went on, - He heard Troy's walls come tumbling down. - But ere he starts, he has an eye - The metal of his rogues to try: - He tells the chiefs, when he proposes - That homeward all shall point their noses, - They must take care, when he had sped, - To come and knock it all o' th' head. - The plot succeeds; they're glad to go; - But sly Ulysses answer'd, No; - Then drove his broomstick with a thwack - Upon Thersites' huckle back; - Check'd other scoundrels with a frown, - And knock'd the sauciest rascals down; - Proving, that at improper times - To speak the truth's the worst of crimes. - - Th' assembly met; old Nestor preaches, - And all the chiefs, like schoolboys, teaches - Orders each diff'rent shire to fix - A rendezvous, nor longer mix, - But with their own bluff captains stay, - Whether they fight or run away: - And whilst thus gather'd in a cluster, - They nick the time, and make a muster. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK II. - - - - The watch past twelve o'clock were roaring, - And citizens in bed were snoring, - And all the gods of each degree - Were snoring hard for company, - Whilst Jove, whose mind could get no ease, - Perplex'd with cares as well as fleas - (For cares he in his bosom carried, - As every creature must that's married), - Was plotting, since he had begun, - How he might honour Thetis' son; - And scratch'd, and scratch'd, but yet he could - Not find a method for his blood - To keep his word. At last he caught, - By scratching hard, a lucky thought - (And 'faith, I think, 'twas no bad scheme); - To send the Grecian chief a Dream, - Made of a Cloud, on which he put - A coat and waistcoat, ready cut - Out of the self-same kind of stuff, - But yet it suited well enough - To give it shape: Now, Mr. Dream, - Take care you keep the shape you seem, - Says Jove; then do directly go - To Agamemnon's tent below: - Tell him to arm his ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves, - Then instantly their time employ - To rattle down the walls of Troy. - Tell him, in this, Miss Destiny - And all the heav'nly crew agree: - For Juno has made such a riot, - The gods do aught to keep her quiet. - - Away goes Dream upon the wing, - And stands before the snoring king: - Grave Nestor's coat and figure took, - As old as he, as wise his look, - Rubs the cull's noddle with his wings, - And, full of guile, thus small he sings: - - Monarch, how canst thou sleeping lie, - When thou hast other fish to fry? - O Atreus' son, thou mighty warrior, - Whose father was a skilful farrier, - Hast thou no thought about decorum, - Who art the very head o'th' quorum? - I shame myself to think I'm catching - Thee fast asleep, instead of watching. - Is not all Greece pinn'd on thy lap? - Rise, and for once postpone thy nap, - Lest by some rogue it should be said, - The chief of chiefs went drunk to bed: - For Jove, by whom you are respected, - Says your affairs sh'an't be neglected; - So sends you word he now is poring - On your concerns, whilst you are snoring: - He bids thee arm thy ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves, - Then instantly thy time employ - To rattle down the walls of Troy: - To this, he adds, Miss Destiny - And all the heav'nly crew agree: - For Juno has made such a riot, - The gods do aught to keep her quiet. - - Then nothing more this Nothing says, - But turn'd about, and went his ways. - Up starts the king, and with his nail - Scratch'd both his head, and back, and tail; - And all the while his fancy's tickl'd, - To think how Troy would soon be pickl'd. - A silly goose! he little knew - What surly Jove resolv'd to do; - What shoals of sturdy knaves must tumble - Before they could the Trojans humble. - Down on an ancient chopping-block - This mighty warrior clapp'd his dock - (The block, worn out with chopping meat, - Now made the chief a rare strong seat): - Then don'd his shirt with Holland cuff, - For, Frenchman-like, he lay in buff; - Next o'er his greasy doublet threw - A thread-bare coat that once was blue, - But dirt and time had chang'd its hue; - Slipp'd on his shoes, but lately cobbled, - And to the board of council hobbled; - But took his sword with brazen hilt, - And wooden sceptre finely gilt. - Now, Madam Morn popp'd up her face, - And told 'em day came on apace; - When Agamemnon's beadles rouse - The Greeks to hear this joyful news. - He long'd, like breeding wife, it seems, - To tell his tickling, pleasing dreams. - I' th' int'rim, trotting to the fleet, - Old Nestor there he chanc'd to meet, - Whose tent he borrows for that morn, - To make a council-chamber on; - And reason good he had, I ween, - It kept his own apartment clean. - - Now all-hands met, he takes his time, - And told his case in prose or rhyme: - - Friends, neighbours, and confed'rates bold, - Attend, whilst I my tale unfold: - As in my bed I lay last night, - I saw an odd-look'd kind of sprite; - It seem'd, grave Nestor, to my view, - Just such a queer old put as you-- - 'Tis fact, for all your surly look-- - And this short speech distinctly spoke: - - How canst thou, monarch, sleeping lie, - When thou hast other fish to fry? - O Atreus' son, thou mighty warrior, - Whose father was a special farrier - (Which, by the by, although 'tis true, - Yet I'd be glad you'd tell me how - This bushy-bearded spirit knew), - Hast thou no thought about decorum, - Who art the very head o' th' quorum? - I shame myself to think I'm catching - Thee fast asleep, instead of watching. - Is not all Greece pinn'd on thy lap? - Rise, and for once postpone thy nap; - Or by some rogue it will be said, - The chief of chiefs went drunk to bed: - For Jove, by whom you are respected, - Says your affairs sha'n't be neglected: - But now on your affair he's poring, - Whilst you lie f--ting here and snoring: - He bids thee arm thy ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves; - For now the time is come, he swears, - To pull Troy's walls about their ears: - Nay more, he adds, the gods agree - With Fate itself it thus shall be. - Jove and his queen have had their quantum - Of jaw, and such-like rantum-scantum: - She now puts on her best behaviours, - And they're as kind as incle-weavers. - Then nothing more the Vision said, - But kick'd me half way out of bed. - This very token did, I vow, - Convince me that the dream was true; - For, waking soon, I found my head - And shoulders on the floor were laid, - Whilst my long legs kept snug in bed: - Therefore, since Jove, with good intent, - So rare a messenger has sent, - We should directly, I've a notion, - Put all our jolly boys in motion: - But first, what think you if we settle - A scheme to try the scarecrows' mettle, - As with nine years they're worn to th' stumps? - I'll feign my kingship in the dumps - With Jove himself, and then propose - That homeward they direct their nose. - But take you care, if I succeed, - To show yourselves in time of need: - Swear you don't mind the gen'ral's clack, - But in a hurry drive 'em back. - - He spoke, and squatting on his breech, - Square-toes got up and made a speech: - I think our chief would not beguile us, - Says the old constable of Pylos. - Had any soul though, but our leader, - For dreams and visions been a pleader, - I should, my boys, to say no worse, - Have call'd him an old guzzling nurse. - I seldom old wives' tales believe, - Nurses invent 'em to deceive. - But now there can be no disguise, - For kings should scorn to tell folks lies; - So let us e'en, with one accord, - Resolve to take his royal word: - For though the speech is queerish stuff, - 'Tis the king's speech, and that's enough. - I therefore say, My buffs so stout, - Of this same vision make no doubt; - The tokens are so very clear, - There can be little room for fear. - Did not our monarch, as he said, - Feel the Dream kick him out of bed, - And, by his waking posture, knew - His sense of feeling told him true? - Then, since affairs so far are gone, - Let's put our fighting faces on. - He said; nor did they longer stay, - But from the council haste away. - The leaders bring their men along; - They still were many thousands strong; - As thick as gardens swarm with bees, - Or tailors' working-boards with fleas: - And Jove, for fear they should not all - Attend, and mind their general's call, - Bid Fame, a chatt'ring, noisy strumpet, - To sound her longest brazen trumpet: - - [Illustration: Book II, page 82. - He haw'd and hemm'd before he spoke, - Then raised his truncheon made of oak, - 'Twas Vulcan's making, which Jove gave - To Mercury, A thieving knave.] - - This brought such numbers on the lawn, - The very earth was heard to groan, - Nine criers went to still their noise; - That they might hear their leader's voice. - He haw'd and hemm'd before he spoke, - Then rais'd his truncheon made of oak: - 'Twas Vulcan's making, which Jove gave - To Mercury, a thieving knave; - Who going down to Kent to steal hops, - Resign'd his staff to carter Pelops; - From Pelops it to Atreus came; - He to Thyestes left the same, - Who kept it dry, lest rain should rot it, - And when he dy'd Atrides got it: - With this he rules the Greeks with ease, - Or breaks their noddles if he please; - Now leaning on't, he silence broke, - And with so grum an accent spoke, - Those people that the circle stood in, - Fancy'd his mouth was full of pudding. - - Thus he began: We've got, my neighbours, - Finely rewarded for our labours: - On Jove, you know, we have rely'd, - And several conjurers have try'd, - But both, I shame to say't, have ly'd. - One says, that we on board our scullers - Should all return with flying colours; - Another, we should cram our breeches - As full as they can hold with riches, - For presents to our wives and misses, - Which they'll repay us back with kisses. - Instead of this, we're hack'd and worn, - Our money spent, and breeches torn; - And, to crown all, our empty sculls - Fill'd with strange tales of cocks and bulls. - Now Jove is got on t'other tack, - And says we all must trundle back: - Dry blows we've got, and, what is more, - Our credit's lost upon this shore: - Nor can I find one soul that's willing - To trust us now a single shilling. - No longer since than yesterday, - Our butcher broke, and ran away: - The baker swears too, by Apollo, - If times don't mend he soon must follow: - As for the alehouse-man, 'tis clear - That half-penny a pot on beer - Will send him off before next year; - And then we all must be content - To guzzle down pure element. - A time there was, when who but we! - Now were humbugg'd, you plainly see; - And, what's the worst of all, you'll say, - A handful makes us run away: - For, if our numbers I can ken, - Where Troy has one man, we have ten. - Nine years, and more, the Grecian host - Have been upon this cursed coast; - And Troy's as far from being sack'd - As when it was at first attack'd; - The more we kill, the more appear; - They grow as fast as mushrooms here! - Like Toulon frigates rent and torn, - Our leaky boats to stumps are worn; - Then let's be packing and away; - For what the vengeance should we stay? - Our wives without it won't remain; - Pray how the pox should they contain? - For one that fasts, I'll lay there's ten - Are now employing journeymen: - If that's the case, I know you'll say - 'Tis time indeed to hyke away; - Let us no more then make this fuss, - Troy was not doom'd to fall by us. - - Most of the rabble, that were not - Consulted in this famous plot, - Were hugely pleas'd, and straight begin - To cry, God save our noble king! - He that spoke last, spoke like a man. - So whipp'd about, and off they ran. - As they jogg'd on, their long lank hair - Did like the dyers' rags appear; - Which you in every street will find - Waving like streamers in the wind: - To it they went with all their heart, - To get things ready to depart; - And made a sort of humming roar, - Like billows rumbling to the shore. - - Halloo, cry'd some, here lend a hand - To heave the lighters off the strand; - Don't lounging stand to bite your nails, - But bustle, boys, and bend the sails. - Now all the vessels launch'd had been, - If scolding Juno had not seen: - That noisy brimstone seldom slept, - But a sharp eye for ever kept; - Not out of love to th' Grecian state, - But to poor harmless Paris hate, - Because on Ida's mountain he - Swore Venus better made than she: - And most are of opinion still, - He show'd himself a man of skill; - For Juno, ever mischief hatching, - Had wrinkled all her bum with scratching, - Whilst this enchanting Venus was - As smooth all o'er as polish'd glass. - - Since then there was so wide a difference, - Pray who can wonder at the preference? - For wrinkles I'm myself no pleader: - Pray what are you, my gentle reader? - A simple answer to the question - Will put an end to this digression: - Why can't you speak now, when you're bid? - You like smooth skins? I thought you did: - And, since you've freely spoke your mind, - We'll back return, and Juno find. - Upon a cloud she sat astride, - (As now-a-days our angels ride) - Where calling Pallas, thus she spoke: - Would it not any soul provoke, - To see those Grecian hang-dogs run, - And leave their bus'ness all undone? - This will be pretty work, indeed; - For Greece to fly, and Troy succeed. - Rot me! but Priam's whoring race - (Sad dogs, without one grain of grace) - Shan't vamp it thus, whilst lovely Helen - Is kept for that damn'd rogue to dwell in; - That whoring whelp, who trims her so - She never thinks of Menelau: - But I shall stir my stumps, and make - The Greeks once more their broomsticks shake, - Then fly, my crony, in great haste, - Lest opportunity be past. - The cause, my girl, is partly thine; - He scorn'd thy ware as well as mine: - And, just as if he'd never seen us, - Bestow'd the prize on Madam Venus, - A blacksmith's wife, or kettle-mender, - And one whose reputation's slender; - Though her concerns I scorn to peep in, - Yet Mars has had her long in keeping. - - Pallas obeys, and down the slope - Slides, like a sailor on a rope. - Upon the barren shore she found - Ulysses lost in thoughts profound: - His head with care so very full, - He look'd as solemn as an owl; - Was sorely grip'd, nor at this pinch - Would launch his boats a single inch. - - And is it thus, she says, my king, - The Greeks their hogs to market bring? - See how they skip on board each hoy, - Ready to break their necks for joy! - Shall Priam's lecherous son, that thrives - By kissing honest tradesmen's wives, - Be left that heaven of bliss to dwell in, - The matchless arms of beauteous Helen? - O, no; the very thought, by Gad, - Makes Wisdom's goddess almost mad! - Though, by thy help, I think 'tis hard. - But yet I singe the rascal's beard. - Then fly, Ulysses, stop 'em all; - The captains must their troops recall. - Thou hast the gift o' th' gab, I know; - Be quick and use it, prithee do: - From Pallas thou shalt have assistance, - Should any scoundrel make resistance. - - Ulysses ken'd her voice so shrill, - And mov'd to execute her will; - Then pull'd his breeches up in haste, - Which being far too wide i' th' waist, - Had left his buttocks almost bare-- - He guess'd what made the goddess stare; - Next try'd his coat of buff to doff, - But could not quickly get it off, - So fast upon his arms it stuck, - Till Pallas kindly lent a pluck. - Off then it came, when, like a man, - He took him to his heels and ran. - The first that in his race he met - Was Agamemnon in a pet, - Striving, for breakfast, with his truncheon - To bruise a mouldy brown-bread luncheon. - - Ulysses tells him, with a laugh, - I've better bus'ness for that staff, - And must request you'll lend it me - To keep up my authority. - Which having got, he look'd as big - As J-n-n's coronation wig; - Then flew, like wild-fire, through the ranks? - 'Twas wond'rous how he ply'd his shanks. - Each captain by his name he calls; - I'm here, each noble captain bawls. - Then thus: O knights of courage stout, - Pray, what the devil makes this rout? - You that exalted are for samples, - Should set your soldiers good examples: - Instead of that, I pray, why strove ye - To run as if the devil drove ye? - You knew full well, or I belie ye, - Our general only spoke to try ye: - All that he meant by't was to know, - Whether we'd rather stay or go? - And is more vext to find us willing - To run, than if he'd lost a shilling; - Because at council-board, this day, - Quite different things you heard him say. - But if he met a common man, - That dar'd to contradict his plan; - Or, if the scoundrel durst but grumble; - Nay, if he did but seem to mumble; - He, with his truncheon of command, - First knock'd him down, then bid him stand - By this good management they stopp'd; - But not till eight or ten were dropp'd. - From launching boats, with one accord, - They trudg'd away to th' council-board. - The hubbub then began to cease: - The noise was hush'd, and all was peace. - Only one noisy ill-tongu'd whelp, - Thersites call'd, was heard to yelp: - The rogue had neither shame nor manners; - His hide was only fit for tanners: - With downright malice to defame - Good honest cocks, was all his aim: - All sorts of folks hard names he'd call, - But aldermen the worst of all. - Grotesque his figure was and vile, - Much in the Hudibrastic style: - One shoulder 'gainst his head did rest, - The other dropp'd below his breast; - His lank lean limbs in growth were stinted, - And nine times worse than Wilkes he squinted: - His pate was neither round nor flat, - But shap'd like Mother Shipton's hat. - You'd think, when this baboon was speaking, - You heard some damn'd blind fiddler squeaking. - Now this sad dog by dirty joking - Was every day the chief provoking: - The Greeks despis'd the rogue, and yet - To hear his vile harangues they'd sit - Silent as though he'd been a Pitt. - His screech-owl's voice he rais'd with might - And vented thus his froth and spite: - - Thersites from the matter wide is, - Or something vexes great Atrides; - But what the murrain it can be, - The Lord above can only see! - No man alive can be censorious, - His reign has been so very glorious: - Then what has lodg'd the heavy bullet - Of discontent within his gullet, - That makes him look as foul as thunder, - To me's a secret and a wonder: - He had the best, the Grecians know, - Of gold, and handsome wenches too. - Best did I say? Bar Helen's bum, - He had the best in Christendom, - And yet's not pleas'd: but tell us what - Thy mighty kingship would be at? - Say but, shall Greece and I go speed - To Troy, and bring thee in thy need - The race of royal sons of whores, - By ransom to increase thy stores? - When we return, prepare to seize - Whate'er the royal eye shall please: - This thou mayst do sans dread and fear; - 'Tis mighty safe to plunder here. - When the fit moves thee for that same, - Take any captain's favourite dame; - Our master wills, and 'tis but fit - Such scrubs as we should all submit. - Ye women Greeks, a sneaking race, - Take my advice to quit this place; - And leave this mighty man of pleasure - To kiss his doxies at his leisure. - When Hector comes, we'll then be mist - When Hector comes, he'll be bepist. - The man that makes us slaves submit, - When Hector comes, will be be--t; - He'll rue the dire unlucky day - He forc'd Achilles' girl away: - That buxom wench we all agreed - To give the bully for his need. - Achilles, though in discontent, - Don't think it proper to resent: - But if the bully's patience ceases, - He'll kick thee into half-crown pieces. - - Sudden Ulysses with a bound - Rais'd his backside from off the ground, - Ready to burst his very gall - To hear this scurvy rogue so maul - The constable of Greece--an elf, - Famous for hard-mouth'd words himself; - His eyes look'd fierce, like ferrets red; - Hunchback he scans; and thus he said: - - Moon-calf, give o'er this noisy babbling, - And don't stand prating thus and squabbling. - If thy foul tongue again dispute - The royal sway, I'll cut it out; - Thou art, and hast been from thy birth, - As great a rogue as lives on earth. - What plea canst thou have names to call, - Who art the vilest dog of all? - Think'st thou a single Greek will stir - An inch for such a snarling cur? - How dar'st thou use Atrides' name, - And of a constable make game? - For safe return great Jove we trust: - 'Tis ours to fight, and fight we must - If to our noble chief a few - Make presents, pray, what's that to you? - What mighty gifts have you bestow'd, - Except your venom? scurvy toad! - If the bold bucks their plunder gave, - Thou canst not think' among the brave - We reckon such a lousy knave. - May I be doom'd to keep a tin-shop, - Or smite my soul into a gin-shop, - There to be drawn by pint or gill, - For drunken whores to take their fill; - Or may I find my dear son Telley - With back and bones all beat to jelly; - Or in his stead behold another, - Got by some rascal on his mother; - If I don't punish the next fault, - By stripping off thy scarlet coat, - That shabby, ragged, thread-bare lac'd coat - Then with a horsewhip dust thy waistcoat; - I'll lay on so that all the navy - Shall hear thy curship roar peccavi. - - This said, his broomshaft with a thwack - He drove against his huckle back. - It fell with such a dev'lish thump, - It almost rais'd another hump. - The poor faint-hearted culprit cries, - And tears ran down his blood-shot eyes: - With clout he wip'd his ugly face, - And sneak'd in silence to his place. - Then might you hear the mob declare - Their thoughts on courage, and on fear. - Up to the stars they cry'd Ulysses, - A braver fellow never pisses; - Of insolence he stops the tide, - Nor gives it time to spread too wide. - We want but half a score such samples, - To make all prating knaves examples: - 'Twould teach the mob much better things, - Than dare to chatter about kings. - Whilst thus they sing Ulysses' praises, - The constable his body raises. - The gen'ral's truncheon of command - He flourish'd in his dexter hand. - Pallas in herald's coat stood by, - And with great noise did silence cry, - That all the rabble far and near - This crafty Grecian's speech might hear. - With staring looks and open jaws - They catch each syllab as it flows. - First, with his hand he scratch'd his head, - To try if wit's alive or dead: - But, when he found his wit was strong, - And ready to assist his tongue, - To clear his throat he hem'd aloud, - And thus humbugg'd the list'ning crowd: - - Unlucky chief, to be so us'd, - Deserted first, and then abus'd! - At Argos, when we came to muster, - And were all gather'd in a cluster, - The general voice was heard to say, - The de'il fetch him that runs away! - Then took a bible oath that night, - They never would return from fight - Till the old Trojan town should tumble; - And yet you see for home they grumble. - I own myself, 'tis very hard - To be from home so long debarr'd: - If but a single fortnight we - Are kept confin'd upon the sea - From our good wives and bantlings dear, - How do we rave, and curse, and swear! - Then, after nine years' absence, sure - These folks may look a little sour. - They're not to blame for being sad; - But thus bamboozled, makes one mad: - Though wizard Calchas plainly said, - If we the space of nine years staid, - The tenth we surely should destroy - This paltry mud-wall'd borough Troy. - Have patience then, and let's endure - To box it out a few weeks more. - Remember how a mighty dragon - A plane-tree mounted from a waggon; - He found a bird's nest at the top, - And quickly ate eight young ones up; - To make the ninth there wants another; - On which the serpent snapp'd the mother: - Though, after he had made this rout, - He ne'er had time to shit 'em out; - For twenty minutes were not gone - Before he chang'd to solid stone, - Where, on the summit of a hill, - At Aulis, you may see him still. - When Calchas saw this wondrous thing, - Like Endor's witch, he drew a ring; - And, standing by himself i' th' middle, - Began this wonder to unriddle: - - My friends, if you'll but lend an ear, - I'll quickly ease you of your fear: - Give you but credit to my speeches, - And then you'll all keep cleaner breeches. - This prodigy from Jove was sent ye, - To show that something good he meant ye: - As many birds, so many years - Should we be kept in hopes and fears; - But 'ware the tenth, for then shall Ilion - Tumble, though guarded by a million. - All this may happen, if you stay, - But cannot, if you run away: - For, be the captains e'er so cunning, - No towns were ever ta'en by running. - Can you remember Helen's rape, - And let those Trojan whelps escape? - Let that eternal rascal go - That made poor Helen cry O! O? - - Up started then old chitter chatter, - And lent his hand to clench the matter: - You are fine fellows, smite my eyes, - If blust'ring words could get a prize: - At first you all could say great things, - And swear you'd pull down popes and kings; - In a great splutter take, like Teague, - The solemn covenant and league; - For Ilion's walls resolve to steer, - And store of bread and cheese prepare. - Now all, I find, was but a joke; - Your bouncing's vanish'd into smoke. - But precious time by talk is spent; - To pull down Troy is our intent; - And we will do't without delay, - If you, Atrides, lead the way. - Whoever here are not content, - Pray let 'em all be homeward sent. - Their help we value not three farthings: - Cowards make excellent churchwardens; - Then let them to their parish go, - And serve their town in noise and show. - No weapon should they touch but needles, - Or staves for constables and beadles: - Such posts as these will suit men right, - That eat much keener than they fight; - Therefore, whoever dare not stay, - I'd have directly sneak away. - When we the Trojan hides shall curry - Without their help, they'll be so sorry - That they will hang themselves, I hope-- - And, by my soul, I'll find 'em rope. - Then how the rogues will wish they'd fought! - But wishes will avail 'em nought. - Did not great Jove, when we set out, - Make a most damn'd confounded rout? - Did he not roll the ball, and roll - Till he half crack'd his mustard bowl[1]; - And kept the noise upon our right, - To hearten us to go and fight, - Till every wench that Troy did dwell in - Should cry O! O! as much as Helen? - Show me the man that dare but think - To make the poorest Grecian shrink; - If any rascal draws one scrub in, - I'll give the dog a handsome drubbing. - And thou, my bully, be not nice, - But take for once a fool's advice; - Let's not like city rabble fight, - Who roar all day, and drink all night; - Millions of such can ne'er oppose - A little band of men well chose; - - [1] They made thunder formerly in the play-houses by rolling a ball in -an empty mustard bowl. - - For discipline, when manag'd right, - Will make a trainband captain fight. - Let me advise, that ev'ry shire - To their own rendezvous retire; - Nor let them mix, but each be sent - To his own ragged regiment. - Let their chief constable command, - If you can find a chief will stand: - The leaders then will quickly ken - Who fight like women, who like men; - Who fight as if inspir'd by Mars, - Or who, like Dutchmen, hang an arse; - Can punish every sneaking knave, - And with good punch reward the brave: - Then shall we understand, no doubt, - Why Troy so long has held it out; - And if they've done us all these evils, - By help of men, or gods, or devils. - - Atrides gave him this for answer: - I now can plainly see, old grandsire, - That noisy chatt'ring ribs of thine - Has got more brains by half than mine: - If Jove, to help us in our streights, - Would lend us half a score such pates, - Split me, we should have brains enough - To strip these Trojans into buff, - And all the men and women leave - As nak'd as Adam first knew Eve. - But Jove, or by design or chance; - Has led us all a pretty dance: - 'Tis he that makes us thus dispute - And squabble till we all fall out. - As for Achilles, I abus'd him, - Kidnap'd his girl, and vilely us'd him; - And, like two English tars, we swore - And scolded for a little whore; - But hope (unless I am beguil'd) - Ere long we shall be reconcil'd; - And then, my boys, you'll see how soon - This whore's nest, Troy, will tumble down. - But now 'tis time for every sinner - To look out sharp to find a dinner; - And then we'll fight, while fighting's good, - And drench our soleless shoes in blood. - Fit then your potlids on your wrists, - And grasp your broomsticks in your fists; - Your mettled horses bring all out, - Both cut and longtail, for this bout. - Like hungry wolves and bears we'll fight, - And kick and cuff from morn to night: - Who dares his coward head to flinch - The thousandth part of half an inch - Or should a moment's time let slip, - By skulking in his crazy ship, - His scurvy hide, for shunning blows, - Shall be devour'd by carrion crows. - Soon as he spoke, both front and rear - Began to look confounded queer. - But late they thought to kiss their wives, - And lead at home good quiet lives; - Instead of that, they find they must - Have t'other bout at cut and thrust: - So forc'd against their wills to stay, - The grumbling whore's-birds sneak'd away. - Now fires by scores were quickly made, - And cows by dozens knock'd o' th' head. - The victuals for theirselves they took, - But wisely fed their gods with smoke: - For men it would be choking stuff, - But for the gods did well enough. - And whilst the garbage broils, they pray - T'escape a broken pate that day. - But to fill all their bellies full, - The priest had drest a fine young bull; - And then invited ev'ry chief - To come and eat this rare bull beef; - Ask'd Nestor first, because his beard - Was longest by a full half-yard; - Idomen did the next succeed, - And then that varlet Diomed: - Ajax the less, and Ajax great, - With sly Ulysses took their seat; - Lest they should think the cuckold slighted, - He came to dinner uninvited. - Now each man draws his pudding-knife, - And eats as though he ate for life. - But first, Atrides said a grace, - Holding his hat before his face; - Then added, in a canting tone, - A pray'r he'd better left alone. - - O mighty Jupiter! that shrouds - Thy dwelling-house with coal-black clouds - Of thy own weaving, great protector, - Grant I may swinge this sad dog, Hector, - Without the help, if so thy will is, - Of that same bullying scrub Achilles. - But Jove, I verily believe, - Just then was laughing in his sleeve; - Nor would he let the foolish elf - Kill one much better than himself: - But though he kick'd the canting pray'r - A thousand fathom in the air, - Yet did he not refuse the treat, - But snuff'd the smoke, and lick'd the meat. - And now, to show they scorn all thieving, - They serve Jove first, then take his leaving; - Upon his altar burnt a piece, - And up his nose sent smoke and grease: - The god they were resolv'd to please, - Or smoke him till they made him sneeze: - For he would think them very hollow - To keep him sharper than Apollo; - Therefore, Burn more and more, they cry'd, - Until he owns he's satisfy'd. - When all had stuff'd their bellies full, - And ate the very hoofs o' th' bull, - Old chatt'ring Nestor 'gan to talk, - And thus to Agamemnon spoke: - - Bid the blind fiddlers scrape away, - And all the troops shall march to-day; - And, that no useful man be mist, - Let muster-master bring his list - And call 'em o'er: if then we're right, - Do you lead on, by Jove we'll fight. - At the chief constable's commands - They muster'd all their trusty bands; - Each knew his right and left hand man, - And eke his officer could scan. - As Nestor said, each hang-dog went - To his own ragged regiment. - Minerva too was got among 'em, - Though she of right did not belong 'em; - Her brawny arm a potlid shak'd, - As bright as blacking-balls could make't, - On which there hung an ugly head, - So grim, 'twould strike the train-bands dead: - With this, and other little helps, - She cheers the poor faint-hearted whelps. - - [Illustration: Book II, page 116. - Her brawny arm a potlid shak'd, - As bright as blacking-balls could make't, - On which there hung an ugly head, - So grim, 'twould strike the train-bands dead:] - - For wives they now no longer sob, - But swear to die or do the job. - As when a bonfire, with a noise, - Is kindled by the parish-boys, - It catches first the straw, then rushes. - And seizes on the dry furze-bushes, - Which causes such a dev'lish glaring, - That half the fools i' th' town stand staring: - Just so you spy'd reflected streaks - From greasy doublets of the Greeks; - For noise, you'd swear these sons of Greece - Were nought but flocks of Solan geese, - Who gabble rarely in their flight, - But ten times louder when they 'light: - Thus in a noisy crowd they wander, - Before they reach the fam'd Scamander; - And as they hasten to the shore, - They make the very welkin roar. - Thick as the crowds that walk the Strand, - Upon the river's bank they stand; - Or thick as leaves that yearly fall, - By pecks and bushels in the Mall; - Or swarms of flies, that find a crop - Of sugar in a grocer's shop; - So throng'd the varlets stand, and vow - They'll beat the Trojans black and blue. - About each trusty serjeant goes, - And sets them all in proper rows, - As easily as Rachael Sparrow - Places the apples in her barrow, - Where (though at first no form they keep) - She quickly makes a curious heap. - Above the rest the king appears, - And tops 'em all by th' head and ears: - He look'd, amidst this set of warriors, - Like a great hound amongst the tarriers. - For breadth of chest, as well as back, - He beat the mighty bruiser, Slack; - But in his strut and martial air - He seem'd a first-rate grenadier. - This day Jove order'd he should pass - To view, much bigger than he was: - And as he knew the head o' th' cull - With brains was not a quarter full, - He clapp'd a candle in his skull, - Which shining briskly through his eyes, - Fill'd all the Grecians with surprise; - For Jove, you need not fear, took care, - At proper times, to make folks stare. - As for these various ragged packs - Of rogues, from different wapentakes, - Their Christian names I've many times - Labour'd to jumble into rhymes; - But could not do it for my soul, - So leave them to the muster-roll. - If any critic choose to pop - His head into my printer's shop, - He'll find a copy there, not spurious, - Left for th' inspection of the curious. - - - - - - THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Now all the troops in order plac'd, - Against their minds, each other fac'd; - When nimble Paris, by a fit - Of courage, or of phrensy, bit, - Fierce sallies forth upon the plain; - The cuckold drives him back again: - Yet hearten'd afterwards by Hector, - Who read him a confounded lecture, - This dancing, cuckold-making knight - Challeng'd the cuckold out to fight; - Which Menelaus answer'd soon, - And in the scuffle knock'd him down. - Fast by the crown the Spartan held him, - And swore most bloodily he'd geld him: - But Venus, queen of love and beauty, - Who thinks all whoring tricks a duty, - In a great hurry came and caught him - Fast by the luggs, and fairly brought him - To his own room; then from the closet - She fetch'd a smoking-hot sack posset. - Soon as she found it warm'd his belly, - She stepp'd to th' door, and call'd up Nelly; - Who scolded hard at first, but soon - Pull'd off her clothes, and laid her down - Upon the bed beside her swain, - Who trimm'd her buff with might and main. - How oft, at exercise so vi'lent, - They cry'd Encore, our author's silent. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - BOOK III. - - - - Thus muster'd by their leaders' care, - Both sides for fisty-cuffs prepare. - The Trojans toss their caps and shout, - And noise proclaims 'em bloody stout; - Like cranes that fly in winter time - (As poets tell us) to a clime - Where pigmies dwell, with whom they fight - To th' ears in blood from morn to night. - But the bold Grecians on their toes - Steal softly to surprise their foes, - Taking huge steps along the green - To get a blow before they're seen, - Knowing, a sorry rogue may crack - A brave man's crown behind his back. - With nimble feet, in sweat well soak'd, - They trudge it, though with dust half chok'd. - Thus, when a mist on mountain head - As thick as mustard round is spread, - The puzzled shepherd cannot keep - The goats from mingling with the sheep: - So of the Greeks, not one, I trow, - Ask him but hastily, could know - Whether his nose was on or no. - Now front to front they ready stand - To fight, and only wait command; - When nimble Paris to the van, - Dress'd à la mode de François, ran: - With coney-skins he edg'd his coat, - To show he was a man of note: - A cross-bow o'er his back was slung; - And on his thigh his poniard hung. - A staff he pois'd would fell an ox, - And dar'd the boldest Greek to box. - As thus he struts, and makes a splutter, - Like crow i' th' middle of a gutter, - Him Menelaus soon espies, - And joyful to himself he cries: - - Blast my old shoes, but very soon - I'll have a knock at your rogue's crown! - Then darted, in a bloody rage, - From his old duns cart to engage: - And as he hied along to meet him, - He look'd as if he meant to eat him. - So joys the bailiff, when he spies - A half-pay officer his prize: - Headlong he drives across the way, - Regardless both of cart and dray, - Nor stops till he has seiz'd his prey. - - Soon as the youth the cuckold saw, - As guilt will ever feel an awe, - In spite of all that he could say, - He found his legs would run away: - Then, since the matter turn'd out so, - 'Twas best, he thought, to let 'em go; - So turn'd about, and in a crack - They brought their master safely back; - And, as he puff'd along, we find him - Not daring once to look behind him. - As when a bumpkin sees a snake - Come slyly stealing from the brake, - He starts, and looks confounded cunning, - But quickly saves himself by running: - So this young beau the cuckold shuns, - And 'mongst his trusty Trojans runs. - This the bold Hector could not bear; - He thought he ran away for fear-- - Without considering, now and then - The very best and boldest men - Cannot their members so command - To make 'em at all seasons stand. - Be that as't may; with accent grave - He thus began to scold the knave: - - Paris, says he, you're but a cheat, - And only dare the wenches meet; - But though a man you dare not face, - Yet, when the fight becomes a chase, - You'd beat a thousand in the race. - I wish, ere Nelly thou hadst felt, - Thou'dst broke thy neck, or hadst been gelt: - Better by half than thus to bully, - Then run away from such a cully. - The Greeks all swear thou art besh-t, - And their fat sides with laughing split. - Thou look a soldier! thou be d----d! - The Grecians cannot be so flamm'd. - When thy fine long-boats went to Greece - To steal away this precious piece; - Say, did'st thou, in thy first attack - On Helen's freehold, thus give back? - Joy to thy foes, shame to thy race, - Thy father's grief, and Troy's disgrace, - Recover thy lost credit soon, - And stoutly stand by what you've done; - Or else all Troy, as well as me, - Thy buxom wench will plainly see - Belongs a better man than thee. - Take heed, Troy may awake at last, - And make thee pay for all that's past. - Here Paris blush'd--a sign of grace; - Nor durst he look in Hector's face: - - Then answers, By my soul, you're right - But who like you can preach and fight? - I know you're made of best of steel, - And box as if you could not feel. - You have your gifts, and I have mine: - Where each may in his province shine. - Smite you the men; I smite the wenches, - And seldom fail to storm their trenches. - Don't you despise the lover's charms: - They're Venus' gift, her powerful arms. - A good strong back, and proper measure - Of love, to give the fair ones pleasure, - Are blessings, which the gods bestow - Only to favourites below. - Yet, if it please thee, I will stand - This cuckold's combat hand to hand: - His mutton-fist bold Paris scorns, - He only fears his branching horns; - Should he receive from these a wound, - Our quack can never make him sound. - But go, explain the matter fully, - And I will box this Spartan bully. - My pretty Nelly shall be set - For him that doth the conquest get: - Her swelling breasts and matchless eyes - Shall be the lucky conqu'ror's prize: - Then Troy and Greece, in any weather, - May smoke a sober pipe together. - This challenge pleas'd, and Hector quick - Stopp'd all the Trojans with his stick; - Next to the foe, with Spanish pace, - Advanc'd, to let them know the case. - - The Greeks, like coward sons of whores, - Threw bricks and cobble-stones in show'rs. - - Atrides soon the tumult spies: - Give o'er, ye silly dogs! he cries; - 'Tis Hector comes, if I am right, - To talk a little, not to fight: - I know him by his breadth of chest, - I know his skull-cap's always drest - With goose quills of the very best: - Then be not in such woeful splutter, - But hear what Hector has to utter. - At this rebuke they threw no more: - The tumult ceas'd; the fray was o'er: - His eyes the bully Trojan roll'd, - And briefly thus his story told: - - Hear, all ye warriors, fam'd for toils, - In civil feuds and drunken broils: - Paris demands you now forbear - To kick and cuff, and curse and swear; - But on the ground your cudgels throw, - And stick your broomstaves on a row: - Let Troy and Greece but sit 'em down, - Paris will fight this Spartan loon; - The charming Helen shall be set, - For him that shall the conquest get; - Her snowy breasts and matchless eyes - Shall be the lucky conqu'ror's prize: - Then Troy and Greece, in any weather, - May smoke a sober pipe together. - - He spoke; and for six minutes good, - With mouths half-cock'd, both armies stood: - - When Menelaus thus began: - Bold Hector offers like a man, - And I the challenge will accept; - As freely as I ever slept. - Hector, perhaps, may think I won't, - But singe my whiskers if I don't! - I know, my lads, you fight for me, - And in my quarrel cross'd the sea. - I thank you, friends, for what you've done; - But now the battle's all my own: - Who falls, it matters not a fig, - If one survives to dance a jig - With that bewitching female Helen, - And stump it tightly when he's well in. - So, Trojans, if you mean no flams, - Go buy directly two grass-lambs; - One for the Earth, as black as crow, - One for the Sun, as white as snow: - For surly Jove, you need not fear, - We'll get one, be they cheap or dear; - For well we know he'll make us feel, - If e'er we cheat him of a meal. - But let King Priam on the place - Appear; we rev'rence his old face. - His sons are hect'ring roaring fellows, - And fifty thousand lies may tell us; - Old age is not so quick in motion, - But sees with care, and moves with caution. - Experience makes old folks discerning; - At blunders past they oft take warning. - - Both parties hear, and hope, at last - Their broils and broken pates are past; - Nor staid they to be bidden twice, - But stripp'd their jackets in a trice: - Their cudgels, all the circle round - As quick as thought threw on the ground. - Two beadles Hector sent to town, - In haste to fetch his daddy down; - And bid 'em tell old limberhams, - Not to forget to bring two lambs. - The running footman of the fleet - (Talthybius call'd, with nimble feet) - With all his speed his stumps did stir - To fetch a lamb for Jupiter. - I' th' int'rim, fond of mischief-telling, - The rainbow goddess flies to Helen: - (Most modern farts, I ever knew, - When set on fire, burn only blue, - Or simple red; but when behind - This nimble goddess lets out wind, - It leaves a track along the skies - Compos'd of fifty different dyes.) - She seem'd like old Antenor's daughter, - That Helen might not know she sought her. - The housewife at her task she found, - With all her wenches seated round: - For, as she work'd in Priam's hall, - She chose to have them within call: - Where, like a brazen, saucy jade, - She wrought her tale in light and shade: - How, for her sake, the Greeks employ - Their utmost force to pull down Troy; - And wove the story in her loom, - Of horns, her former husband's doom: - Adding withal, to keep her going, - What for nine years they had been doing: - The necessary names wrote under, - Lest lookers-on should make a blunder; - Lest they should make a wrong conjecture: - This is brisk Paris--that is Hector; - This is Ulysses--that the beast - Thersites--so of all the rest. - Helen, says Iris, pray come out - And see what work they're all about. - Their clubs thrown down; their staves they prick - Fast in the ground, and there they stick. - They fight no more; for this good day - Paris and Menelaus say - They'll have one bout at cudgel play. - These happy rogues appear in view - To box their very best for you; - And which soever of 'em win, - With kissing he will soon begin. - This put the light-heel'd dame in mind - Of people she had left behind - In her own country: not these two - (She'd try'd the best that they could do); - But she had left behind some dozens - Of uncles, aunts, and loving cousins. - She gulp'd, and swallow'd down her spittle, - But yet was seen to weep a little; - Then left her work, and on her wait - Two wenches to the Scean gate, - Where some old square-toes, grave and try'd, - Were chatting close to Priam's side: - I think they were in number seven; - It matters not, or odd or even. - The name of each I would rehearse, - But it would edge your teeth in verse. - Like grasshoppers they sat i' th' sun, - Telling strange tales of ancient fun; - And, in a feeble hollow tone, - Repeated what great feats they'd done; - How they had thrum'd the maids of Troy, - When Adam was a little boy: - At Helen's shapes they shook their wings; - What could they more? they had no stings. - - No wonder, 'faith, they cry, that Greece - Should fight for such a tempting piece; - The man that Helen's ringlets touzes, - Can never grudge a thousand bruises; - But since 'tis o'er with us long since, - 'Tis best to send the brimstone hence: - If she stays here, Troy tumbles down; - But pack her off, we save the town. - - Whilst thus the gipsy's praise they squeak, - The Trojan king began to speak: - - Come hither, girl, I take a pride - To have thee chatter by my side. - Behold your friends, my dearest honey, - And take a view of your old crony. - 'Tis not your fault: you're not the cause - Of half our bruises, kicks, and blows. - The gods, they say, are in a pet; - And when they're once on mischief set - The devil cannot keep 'em down, - Till they've demolish'd some old town; - And for nine years, I plainly see, - They have been grumbling hard at me. - But tell us, who's that swinging fellow - That struts so fierce? he's drest in yellow, - And cocks his hat with such a pinch, - He looks a soldier ev'ry inch. - - Helen replies, Although, good Priam, - No woman's better kiss'd than I am, - Yet I could wish I had been hang'd, - Or at a whipping-post well bang'd, - Ere I away with Paris ran, - And cuckolded an honest man: - My little girl most bitterly, - They tell me, for her mam doth cry: - I'm full of grief, if that would do; - But matters can't be mended now. - - The gipsy, after this parade, - Thus to the good old Trojan said: - He whom to know my daddy seeks, - Is the great leader of the Greeks: - - His fame is known both near and far, - To scold in peace, and kick in war: - My brother he was call'd, before - Your son and I turn'd rogue and whore: - To call him so I'm now asham'd, - And even blush to hear him nam'd. - - Is that Atrides, quoth the king? - To me he seems the very thing: - I'm told he is, or grave or mellow, - In peace or war, a clever fellow. - Amongst the Phrygians I have been. - But ne'er a tighter fellow seen. - When Otreus sat upon their throne, - And Migdon led their hang-dogs on, - I and my Trojans join'd the roysters; - Where, by the help of cod and oysters, - We laid, with many strokes and thwacks, - The Amazons upon their backs: - Yet those now standing in our sight - Are tighter fellows, by this light. - But tell me, Helen, if you can, - Who's that broad-breasted little man; - His shoulders large and widely spread, - But not so tall as th' last by th' head? - He is no serjeant, I've a notion; - Yet like a serjeant in his motion: - He seems to bustle much about him; - You'd swear they could not do without him. - - Helen replies, My judgment misses, - If he you speak of ben't Ulysses. - Now that I take a better view, - 'Tis he himself, I spy him now: - Let him be standing still, or running, - You'll hardly find his match for cunning; - He knows a thousand slipp'ry tricks, - But shines the most in politics. - Though from a barren isle he came, - The world's too little for his fame: - And, had he not been born a prince, - He'd been prime minister long since. - - Antenor told the king, he knew - What Helen said was very true. - When Atreus' son and he came over, - This coaxing baggage to recover, - Men of great worth they seem'd to be, - I therefore let 'em lodge with me: - I knew them both before that day, - And knew they could their reck'ning pay. - Whene'er we chatted o'er a can - Of flip, with care I mark'd each man. - Atrides standing, look'd the best, - 'Cause he was mostly better drest: - Seated, Ulysses reverence drew; - On breech he gave the clearest view. - Atrides was no man of tongue; - His speech was good, though never long: - But when Ulysses 'gan to speak, - You never heard so queer a Greek; - He'd fix his eyes upon the ground, - As if a speech could there be found; - Look'd foolish, though he knew no tongue - Like his was half so glibly hung: - He could, with oily words, I tell ye, - Make your heart jump within your belly: - His rogueship from the flowers and trees - Would call the very birds and bees. - - Then Priam thus: Amidst the throng - I spy a man exceeding strong; - Shoulders so spread, and such a chest, - He's stole a giant's back and breast: - So strong a carl you'll seldom see; - My lovely girl, who can it be? - Ajax, replies fair Leda's daughter, - Is he you're now inquiring after: - Of him the Grecians well may crack, - For he upon his brawny back - Could lug the city gates, when bid, - As well as ever Samson did. - The next that looks this way to see us, - Is the far-fam'd Idomeneus: - With my good man he once took quarter, - And look'd so trim, my mouth did water. - As for the rest, if I judge rightly, - They're fellows that can box it tightly. - But all this while, old dad, have I - Been looking sharp, if I can spy - A pair of twins, and each my brother - Castor is one, and Pollux t'other. - But hap the colonels fight no more, - Or scorn to quarrel for a whore. - - Poor Helen dreamt not on her bed, - Her brothers were as herrings dead; - That the last doublet they put on - Was made of Bath or Portland stone, - Where, free from broils, they slept secure, - And dreamt of whores and rogues no more. - And now both beadles did with care - The lambs for sacrifice prepare; - But first in order form the ring, - And thus they call the Trojan king: - - Arise, O king! come down with speed. - And lend a hand in time of need - To seal the truce; for there's no troth, - Unless you come and take the oath. - Your son and famous Menelau - For Nell agree to pull a crow: - And he that makes his rival yield, - Or lays him flat upon the field, - May unmolested take his fill, - And tousel Helen when he will; - That we may cease this curs'd fatigue, - And join in everlasting league; - Trojans may plough their lands, and Greece - Return, and kiss their wives in peace. - - Priam, though with a heavy heart, - Gave orders for his apple-cart, - A vehicle contriv'd with care - To serve for cart or one-horse chair; - Then, with Antenor by his side, - Like two grave cits they took a ride - Quite through the Scean gate, among - The Trojan and the Grecian throng: - When Agamemnon 'midst the crew, - And eke the sly Ulysses too, - Both rose, and made a handsome bow. - And now the blue-coat beadles, grac'd - With large red caps all silver-lac'd, - The method of the farce to fix, - Some Greek and Trojan beverage mix; - Then pour a little on the hand - Of each commander, as they stand; - But have our priestly way of thinking, - To save the most for private drinking: - Lastly,--this grand affair to close, - His knife the Grecian gen'ral draws, - And cutting from the beasts some hair, - The beadles gave each chief a share, - To show that all things should be fair. - Then with a thund'ring voice, that made - A dev'lish noise, to Jove they pray'd: - - O Jupiter! who every Friday - Art worshipp'd on a mount call'd Ida: - O Phoebus! and thou mother Earth! - That gives to thieves and lawyers birth: - O demons! and infernal furies! - Whose counsels aid Westminster juries: - Thou discord-making fiend I that trudges - The six months' circuits with the judges; - And thou, the hellish imp, that brings - Brimstone to singe all wicked kings! - Hear what we promise, and depend on't, - We'll keep our words, or mark the end on't. - Should Paris drub this Menelaus; - To pox and poverty betray us, - If we don't leave the brimstone Helen - Safe in her present Trojan dwelling - For Paris' use! Much good may't do him, - And make her true and faithful to him; - Whilst we poor devils will depart, - And trudge it home with all our heart. - But if by Menelaus' blows - Paris should get a bloody nose, - They shall again restore his Nelly, - With what belongs her back and belly; - A forfeit too consent to pay - For stealing of the girl away; - And Paris cannot think it much - To pay a piece for every touch: - If they refuse, again we'll fight, - And force the rogues to do us right. - With that he seiz'd the sheep by th' crown. - And cut their throats or knock'd them down - By death they soon were overtaken, - Though they kick'd hard to save their bacon. - The chiefs then tipp'd, the other round, - And pour'd a little on the ground; - Adding withal a shorter prayer, - Because they'd not much time to spare: - Hear, Jove, and all ye gods on high! - Whose vicars say you hate a lie - (Though amongst them, for lies and swearing, - There's scarce a barrel better herring), - Whoever takes a thing in hand, - And will not to their bargain stand, - May their heart's blood run out much quicker - Than from the jug we pour this liquor; - And may their wives such harlots be, - That a whole parish can't serve three! - Thus both the armies clubb'd a prayer, - Which Jove refus'd, and kick'd in air. - Now, when these popish rites were done, - Old square-toes hasten'd to be gone: - - It will be rather hard, quoth he, - For one so very old as me, - Bruises and broken pates to see: - But Jove knows best, who rules us all, - Which knave shall stand, or which shall fall. - To stay within yond' walls I choose, - And be the last to hear bad news: - Then instantly his chair ascended; - Antenor by his side attended: - But first, and rightly did he judge it, - He stuff'd both lambs within his budget. - - Ulysses then, and Hector stout, - The limits of the fight mark'd out: - They both agreed that chance might try - Who first should let his broomstick fly. - The people pray on bended knees, - And mutter out such words as these: - - O Jupiter! who hast by odds - The greatest head of all the gods, - Let him that did this mischief brew - Return with ribs all black and blue; - Or let him be demolish'd quick, - And sent full gallop to Old Nick! - Such rogues once hang'd, all wars would cease, - And soldiers eat their bread in peace. - - [Illustration: Book III, page 153. - Hector, who was a wary chap - At pitch and chuck, or hustle-cap, - An old Scotch bonnet quickly takes, - In which he three brass farthings shakes.] - - Hector, who was a wary chap - At pitch and chuck, or hustle-cap, - An old Scotch bonnet quickly takes, - In which he three brass farthings shakes: - Then turn'd his head without deceit, - To show them that he scorn'd to cheat; - And cries aloud, Here goes, my boy, - 'Tis heads for Greece, and tails for Troy; - Then turns the cap: Great Troy prevails, - Two farthings out of three were tails, - Paris now arms himself in haste, - And ty'd his jacket round his waist - With a buff belt, and then with 'traps - About his legs some hay-bands wraps; - To guard his heart he closely press'd - A sheet of tin athwart his breast; - His trusty sword across his breech - Was hung, to be within his reach; - A horse's tail, just like a mop, - He stuck upon his scull-cap's top. - Thus arm'd complete, with care and skill, - He seem'd as stout as Bobadil: - And Menelaus, you might see, - Appear'd as stout and fierce as he. - Ready for fight, they both look'd sour, - And eyed each other o'er and o'er. - Paris puts on a warlike phiz, - And from his hand his staff goes whiz, - Which lent the Grecian targe a thump, - And then upon the ground fell plump. - His broomstaff then, with aim as true, - The cuckold at the Trojan threw; - But ere he spent his ammunition, - He sent to Jove a small petition: - - Mayst please my good design to help, - And let me souse this lech'rous whelp; - That men may cease to do amiss, - And not in others' fish-ponds fish! - Thus, like Old Noll, he coin'd a pray'r, - Then sent his broomstick through the air - With such a vengeance did it fall, - Through the tin-plates it bor'd a hole, - And tore his doublet and his shirt; - But to his guts did little hurt; - Because the knave, by bending low, - Escap'd the fury of the blow. - Some think he daub'd his breeks that hit, - But that remains a query yet. - The Greek, who did not often judge ill, - Pursu'd th' advantage with his cudgel, - And laid about at such a rate, - As if he meant to break his pate; - But, as his jobber-noul he rapp'd, - His stick in twenty pieces snapp'd. - Vex'd to the guts, he lifts his eyes, - And mutt'ring to himself, he cries: - - This rascal's jacket I had dusted, - If Jupiter could have been trusted; - But honest men he keeps at distance, - And lends to whores and rogues assistance. - Just when I had secur'd my prize, - My lousy stick in pieces flies. - This said, he gave a hasty snap - At the horse-tail upon his cap, - And lugg'd most stoutly at his crown, - In hopes to pull the varlet down: - The more he lugg'd to end the farce, - The more the Trojan hung an arse: - Still he haul'd on with many a bob, - And certainly had done his job, - Because so firmly was his cap - Ty'd with a tinsel'd leather strap, - That though the knave began to cough, - The de'il a bit would it come off: - But watchful Venus came in season, - Before the Greek had stopp'd his weasand; - Her scissars from her side she whipp'd, - And in a twink the stay-band snipp'd. - The Greek, who thought he well had sped, - And pull'd off both his cap and head, - Was vex'd to find, instead of full cap, - He'd only got an empty skull-cap: - In grievous wrath, away he threw it. - - [Illustration: Book III, page 157. - But watchful Venus came in season, - Before the Greek had stopp'd his weasand; - Her scissars from her side she whipp'd, - And in a twink the stay-band snipp'd.] - - Amongst his men, who flock'd to view it, - Admir'd the glitt'ring band, and swore - They'd never seen the like before. - - He then, with all his might and main, - Let drive at Paris once again; - With a fresh broomstick thought to smoke him, - But Venus whipp'd him up, and took him - In her smock lap, and very soon - Near his own dwelling set him down; - From thence, with gentle touch, she led - The younker home, and warm'd his bed. - To take away perfumes not good, - She burnt perfumes of spicy wood. - - No sooner was he seated well in - His garret, but she look'd for Helen: - Amongst her chamber-maids she found her; - The wenches all were standing round her. - Quickly she chang'd her form, and whipp'd on - The nose and chin of Mother Shipton; - Then on her tip-toes coming near, - She whispers softly in her ear: - - My dearest jewel, Paris wants - To ramble in the usual haunts; - Upon a good flock-bed he lies, - And longs to view your wicked eyes: - The whoring rascal, safe and sound, - Prepares to fire a double round. - - Helen began to make a din - At this old woman's nose and chin, - But as she star'd her through and through, - Her old acquaintance soon she knew - By her fine alabaster bubbies, - Her eyes of jet, and lips of rubies. - The fright made all her teeth to chatter, - And, 'faith, she scarce could hold her water: - But soon a little courage took, - And to the goddess silence broke - (The reader in her speech will find, - That, woman like, she spoke her mind): - - Could I believe that Venus would - For such a rascal turn a bawd? - Don't think that Helen e'er will truckle, - And with a beaten scoundrel buckle. - If to your calling you bewitch her, - For God's sake let a brave man switch her, - Nor think that I can like a scrub - That any lousy rogue can drub. - Now he is worsted in the fight, - I am become another's right: - I know your drift; it sha'n't take place; - To send me homeward with disgrace, - And make my husband quite uncivil: - You a fine goddess! you a devil! - If Paris cannot live without - A tit bit, you yourself may do't; - Be you his loving wench or wife, - I'll go no more, upon my life: - To me it will afford no sport, - I am not in a humour for't; - You're always ready for a bout, - When I'd as lief be hang'd as do't: - But know, that I'll no longer bear - Of every saucy jade the sneer, - Who cry, She's very handsome, sure, - But yet the brim's an errant whore. - - Hey-day! quoth Venus, what's all this? - On nettles sure you've been to piss: - Yon will not that, or t'other do: - Pray, who will first have cause to rue? - If I forsake thee, every grace - Will leave that pretty smirking face; - Trojans won't give a fig to see - What once they view'd with so much glee; - Nor will the wildest rake in town - Value thy ware at half a crown, - - This eas'd poor Helen of her doubts, - And put an end to all disputes; - Rather than risk the loss of beauty, - She'd be content with double duty; - On which the gipsies tripp'd away, - And soon arriv'd where Paris lay. - The maids about like lightning flew, - For they had fifty things to do: - But Nell and Venus mount up stairs; - They were to mind their own affairs. - Soon as they reach'd the garret-door, - The goddess tripp'd it in before; - And, squatting down just by the fire, - Made Helen on a stool sit by her: - All o'er she look'd so very charming, - That Paris found his liver warming; - He seiz'd her, and began to play - The prelude to <i>et cætera</i>; - Hoping a tune o' th' silent flute - Would keep the scolding baggage mute: - Instead of which the vixen fell - Upon the harmless rogue pell mell. - - After you've suffer'd such disgrace, - How dare you look in Helen's face? - What wench, now thou hast lost thine honour, - Will let thee lay a leg upon her? - Perhaps you think I'll suffer you - To toy, but split me if I do; - Not I, by Jove. Are all thy brags, - Of beating Menelaus to rags, - Come off with this? Once more go try - Thy strength--But what a fool am I! - A stripling thou, a giant he; - At single gulp he'd swallow thee. - Then venture into scrapes no more; - But, since thou'rt safe, e'en shut the door. - - Paris replies, Good dame, ha' done; - We can't recall the setting sun: - Though your old cuckold-pated whelp, - By that damn'd brim Minerva's help, - Did win this match, the next that's try'd - I'll lay the odds I trim his hide. - But haste, my girl, let's buckle to't, - And mind the business we're about: - I ne'er before had such desire; - My heart and pluck are both on fire: - Just now I've far more appetite, - Than when with you, that merry night, - In Cranse's isle, to work we buckled, - And dubb'd your bluff-fac'd husband cuckold. - - This speech no sooner had he made, - But up he jump'd upon the bed; - Where Nelly soon resign'd her charms. - And sunk into the varlet's arms: - Around her waist he never caught her, - But it in special temper brought her. - - Whilst thus they up and down engage, - The Greek was in a bloody rage; - He like a pointer rang'd about, - To try to find the younker out, - And peep'd in ev'ry hole and corner, - In hopes to spy this Mr. Horner; - (Nor would the Trojans, not to wrong 'em, - Have screen'd him, had he been among 'em) - But the bawd Venus took good care - He should not find him far or near. - Then Agamemnon from his breech - Lifted himself, and made this speech: - - Ye Dardans and ye Trojans trusty, - Whose swords we keep from being rusty, - You plainly see the higher powers - Determine that the day is ours; - For Menelaus sure has beat him, - And may, for aught we know, have eat him, - As not a man upon the spot, - Can tell us where the rogue is got: - If therefore Helen you'll restore, - We'll take her, be she wife or whore, - With all her clothes and other gear, - Adding a sum for wear and tear: - The wear, a female broker may - Settle in less than half a day; - But for the tear, no mortal elf - Can judge so well as Mene's self. - If Troy will pay a fine so just, - And that they will, I firmly trust, - We'll leave this curs'd unlucky shore, - And swear to trouble you no more. - - With mighty shouts the Grecians each - Vow 'tis a very noble speech; - That every single word was right; - And swore the Trojans should stand by't. - - - - - - THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - With solemn phiz, about the fate - Of Troy the gods deliberate; - And long dispute the matter, whether - To joul their loggerheads together, - Or make all farther scuffles cease, - And let them drink and whore in peace. - At last the gods agree <i>nem. con.</i> - To let the rascals squabble on: - Paris then jogs Lycaon's son - To knock poor Menelaus down; - And whilst the honest quack, Machaon, - A plaster spread the wound to lay on, - A dreadful noise of shouts and drumming - Forewarn'd the Greeks that Troy was coming. - The gen'ral now, the troops to settle, - And show himself a man of mettle, - In a great splutter runs about - To call their trusty leaders out, - Swaggers and bounces, kicks and cuffs, - Some serjeants praises, others huffs; - At last the roysters join in battle, - And clubs, and staves, and potlids rattle. - - [Illustration: Book IV, page 169. - Hebe prepar'd upon the spot - A jug of purl made piping hot, - Of which she gave each god a cup, - Who sup and blow, and blow and sup.] - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK IV. - - - The watchman op'd the gates of heaven, - Just as the clock was striking seven; - When all the gods, with yawning faces, - To council came, and took their places. - Hebe prepar'd upon the spot - A jug of purl made piping hot, - Of which she gave each god a cup, - Who sup and blow, and blow and sup; - And whilst their time they thus employ, - Just slightly ask, What news from Troy? - When thus unlucky Jove, for fun, - To vex his ox-ey'd wife, begun: - - Two scolding brims of royal blood - Assist the Greeks--if not, they should; - But, perch'd above, like daws they sit, - Nor they to help their friends think fit; - But, suff'ring Greece to go to ruin, - Content themselves with mischief brewing; - Whilst grateful Venus in the throng, - To aid her lecher, scours along; - With nimble bum, or nimbler wrist, - She guides his weapon where she list; - Knowing a touch of her soft hand, - If fallen down, will make him stand. - - But, messmates, since we have begun, - 'Tis time to fix what must be done. - The book of Fate then let us scan, - And view what is ordain'd for man; - That we about them may determine, - To kill, or keep alive, the vermin: - Say then, shall smiling peace ensue, - Or dreadful broils, with face of rue? - If now your godships think that Nelly - Should go and warm her husband's belly, - And Paris pay for doing work - Would glad the heart of Jew or Turk; - Why then the borough may stand firm - A thousand years, or any term; - May back recall its old renown, - And once more be a market-town. - - Whilst thus he preach'd, his angry queen - With Pallas whispering was seen; - And as they jabber'd pate to pate, - Against poor Troy express'd their hate - The boxing vixen, though in wrath, - Yet holds her peace, and nothing saith; - Nor would, had Jove preach'd e'er so long, - For heavenly wisdom rul'd her tongue; - She prudent acts; not so Jove's wife, - Whose joy consists in noise and strife. - - Begun: Don't think your dunder-pate - Shall use your queen at such a rate: - On whoring Troy I've made just war; - Have rous'd my Grecians near and far; - My post-chaise rattled many a mile, - My peacocks sweating all the while; - And all to bring destruction on - This perjur'd, lying, whoring[1] town. - But spouse my cares and toils derides; - Because they're rogues, he's on their sides; - To punish rogues in grain refuses, - And thus his loving wife abuses: - Though, if the gods will take my side, - In spite of Jove I'll trim their hide. - - At this same speech you cannot wonder - The thunder-driver look'd like thunder: - He wav'd his locks, and fit to choke - With rage, he to his vixen spoke: - - Why, how now, hussy! whence this hate - To Priam and the Trojan state? - Can mortal scoundrels thee perplex, - And the great brim of brimstones vex, - That thou should'st make such woeful pother, - And Troy's whole race desire to smother; - Then level, out of female spite, - Their spires, with weather-cocks so bright; - And all because that rogue on Ida - Fancy'd your mouth an inch too wide-a? - Pray how can I the varlet blame, - Who fifty times have thought the same?[2] - But for this once I'll give thee string - Enough, to let thy fury swing: - Burn the whole town; blow up the walls; - Destroy their shops and coblers' stalls: - Murder old Priam on the place, - And smother all his bastard race; - With his boil'd beef and cabbage glut - The fury of thy greedy gut. - Peace, then, perhaps I may enjoy - When there shall be no more of Troy: - But should I choose to be uncivil, - And send your scoundrels to the devil, - Don't think, good Mrs. Brim, that you - Shall hold my hand: remember how - I suffer harmless Troy to tumble, - To stop your everlasting grumble. - I tell thee, brim, of all I know - In heav'n above, or earth below, - Bastards of mortal rogues or gods, - I value Troy the most by odds: - No men on earth deserve my favour - Like Trojan boys, for good behaviour; - Because, whene'er they pay their vows, - They kill good store of bulls and cows; - Nor do they ever grudge the least, - To lend their daughters to the priest; - From whence it cannot be deny'd, - But true religion is their guide. - - Juno, like puppet, rolls her eyes, - And, meditating, thus replies: - - Three boroughs have I got in Greece, - Most dearly lov'd in war and peace; - Mycenae, Argos, aye, and Sparta, - Destroy 'em all[3], care I a f---t-a? - With the dry pox or thunder strike 'em; - 'Tis fault enough for me to like 'em. - Must thy poor wife's good friends be drubb'd, - And she herself thus hourly snubb'd, - As if her family, Sir Cull, - Was not as good as yours to th' full? - I know I ought, were you well bred, - To share your power as well as bed; - But there I know, and so do you, - I'm robb'd of more than half my due. - Your dad[4] was but a lead-refiner, - Or else a Derbyshire lead-miner; - Mine was refiner of the small - Assays, for years, at Goldsmiths'-Hall: - Then prithee don't, my dearest life, - Refuse due honour to your wife: - Alternately let's take the sway; - Each bear a bob both night and day; - And then the vulgar gods shall see - We mount by turns, now you, now me. - See trusty Pallas sneaking stands, - And waits your worship's dread commands: - She'll soon, if you unloose her tether, - Set Greece and Troy by th' ears together: - But bid her use her utmost care, - Troy's whoring sons begin the war; - Then, if they get the worst o' th' game, - They dare not say that we're to blame. - - Of heaven and earth the whoring king - Swore that his wife had hit the thing: - Then go, my Pallas, in the nick, - And serve these Phrygian whelps a trick; - Make 'em, like Frenchmen, treaties break: - Away, and do not stay to speak. - - Pleas'd she darts downward in a trice, - And smooth as younkers slide on ice; - Or when the upper regions vomit - A long-tail'd firebrand, call'd a comet, - Which robs old women of their wits, - And frights their daughters into fits; - Gives wond'ring loons the belly-ache, - And makes the valiant soldier quake: - With horrid whiz it falls from high, - And whisks its tail along the sky: - Just so this brimstone did appear, - As she shot downward through the air. - They guess'd, and paus'd, and guess'd again, - What this strange prodigy could mean: - At last agreed, that angry Fate - Was big with something mighty great. - 'Twas war, or peace, or wind, or rain, - Or scarcity next year of grain. - Some cunning heads this reason hit, - That B--e would soon make room for P--tt; - But all the bold north-country rout - Swore that it would much better suit - His M----, to stick to B--te. - - Whilst thus they jar and disagree, - Minerva lit behind a tree; - And lest her phiz should make 'em gape, - Borrow'd an honest mortal shape; - Laodocus, no snivelling dastard, - But great Antenor's nephew's bastard: - She quickly found Lycaon's son, - A rare strong chief for back and bone, - Whose troops from black Esopee came, - A place but little known to fame. - The arms his raggamuffins bore - Were broomsticks daub'd with blood all o'er. - To him she with a harmless look, - Like a mischievous brimstone, spoke: - - Will you, friend Pand'rus, says she, - A little counsel take from me? - You know that every prudent man - Should pick up money when he can; - And now, if you could have the luck - To make a hole in Sparta's pluck, - Paris, as certain as I live, - Would any sum of money give. - Such a bold push must sure be crown'd - With ten, at least, or twenty pound: - Don't gape and stare, for now or never - You gain or lose the cash for ever: - But first, to th' Lycian archer pay - (By most he's call'd the god of day) - A ram; this same unerring spark - Can guide thy arrow to its mark: - 'Tis highly necessary this, - Or two to one your aim you'll miss. - - Like gunpowder, the thick-skull'd elf - Took fire, and up he blew himself: - Then fitting to his bow the string, - He swore, by Jove, he'd do the thing. - His trusty bow was made of horn - An old ram goat for years had worn. - This goat by Pandarus was shot, - And left upon the cliffs to rot: - The curling horns, that spread asunder - Two tailors' yards, became his plunder; - Which he took care to smooth, and so - Produc'd a very handsome bow: - The blacksmith fil'd a curious joint, - And Deard with tinsel tipp'd each point. - This bow of bows, without being seen - By any but his countrymen, - He bent; and, that he might be safe, - Took care to hide his better half - Behind the potlids of his band; - For those he always could command. - Before he aim'd, he squatted low - To fit an arrow to his bow; - One from a hundred out he picks, - To send the cuckold over Styx - (Sharp was the point of this same arrow, - Design'd to reach the Spartan's marrow); - Then to the god of day-light vows - To give a dozen bulls and cows. - Now hard he strains, with wondrous strength, - And draws the arrow all its length: - Swift through the air the weapon hies, - Whilst the string rattles as it flies. - Had then Atrides been forgot, - He certainly had gone to pot: - But Pallas, for his life afraid, - In pudding-time came to his aid, - And turn'd aside the furious dart, - That was intended for his heart, - Into a more ignoble part. - So careful mothers, when they please, - Their children guard from lice and fleas. - The first emotion that he felt, - Was a great thump upon his belt: - For there the arrow, Pallas knew, - Could only pierce a little through. - It did so; and the skin it rais'd: - The blood gush'd out: which so amaz'd - The cuckold, that he was half craz'd: - He felt within himself strange twitches; - 'Twas thought by most he spoil'd his breeches. - As when you seek for stuff to grace - Some fine court lady's neck and face, - All o'er her muddy skin you spread - A load of paint, both white and red, - The diff'ring colours, sure enough, - Must help to set each other off, - Spite of the hue that glares within - The filthy, muddy, greasy skin: - Just so Atrides' blood you'd spy, - As it ran down his dirty thigh; - His knee, and leg, and ancle pass'd, - And reach'd his sweaty foot at last. - At this most dreadful, rueful sight, - Atrides' hair stood bolt upright, - And lifted, all the Grecians said, - His hat six inches from his head. - Nor less the honest cuckold quak'd; - His heart as well as belly ach'd; - Till looking at the place that bled, - He plainly saw the arrow's head - Stopp'd by his greasy belt: he then - Boldly took heart of grace again. - But the great chief, who thought the arrow - Had reach'd his brother's guts or marrow, - With bitter sobbing heav'd his chest, - And thus his heavy grief express'd; - Whilst all the Grecians, far and near, - Did nought but threaten, curse, and swear: - - My dearest bro. for this did I - Desire a truce? Zounds! I could cry: - It proves a fatal truce to thee; - Nay, fatal both to thee and me. - Thou fought'st till all the fray did cease: - Now to be slain, in time of peace, - Is dev'lish hard:--with rueful phiz - He added? By my soul it is! - Those scoundrel Trojans all combine, - In hopes to ruin thee and thine; - They've stole thy goods, and kiss'd thy wife, - And now they want to take thy life: - With perjuries the rogues are cramm'd, - For which they will be double damn'd. - Now we good Grecians, when it meet is - To make with scoundrel neighbours treaties, - As Britons (but the Lord knows how) - With roguish Frenchmen often do, - We're strict and honest to our word; - So should each man that wears a sword. - What pity 'tis that rogues so base - Should thus bamboozle Jove's own race! - But let it be thy comfort, brother, - And with it thy resentment smother, - That Jove in flames such rogues will burnish; - Already he begins to furnish - With red-hot balls his mutton fist, - To singe and pepper whom he list. - Be sure, that when he once begins, - He'll smoke these scoundrels for their sins, - Make Priam's house of scurvy peers - Come tumbling down about their ears. - These Trojans, if they do not mend on't, - Will all be hang'd at least, depend on't: - For thee, my brother, who deserv'd - Much better fate than be so serv'd, - I trust thou wilt not die so sudden, - But still eat many a pound of pudding. - If aught but good should hap to thee, - God knows what must become of me. - When thou art gone, thy men of might - Will run, but rot me if they'll fight. - When once they've lost thy brave example, - They'll let the Trojan rascals trample - Their very guts out ere they'll budge; - They will, as sure as God's my judge. - Shall Helen then with Paris stay, - Whilst thy poor bones consume away; - And some sad dog, thy recent tomb, - Lug out his ware and piss upon? - Adding, that all Atrides got, - Was to come here to lie and rot; - Nor durst his bullying brother stay, - But very stoutly ran away. - Before this scandal on me peep, - May I be buried nine yards deep! - - He spoke; and sighing rubs his eyes, - When Menelaus thus replies: - Thy tears, my hero, prithee keep, - Lest they should make our soldiers weep: - 'Tis but, at worst, a harmless scratch; - I'll put upon't a lady's patch: - Or, if you think 'twill mend you faster, - I'll send for Borton's[5] sticking-plaster. - But if a surgeon's help is meet, - Dispatch a messenger to th' Fleet; - There is a man, who well can do - For scratches, burns, and poxes too. - - The brother king, with gracious look, - Once more resum'd the thread, and spoke - - May all the gods thy life defend, - And all thy wounds and scratches mend! - Talthybius, fly, Machaon bid - Run faster than he ever did; - Let him await us in our tents, - And bring his box of instruments; - My brother's wounded with a dart, - For aught I know, in mortal part - - With such a haste Talthybius run, - He knock'd two common troopers down; - Then search'd through every file and rank, - And found the surgeon in the flank. - - The king, Machaon, wants your help; - You must not march, but run, you whelp; - And, with your box of instruments, - Attend the brothers in their tents: - Make speed, the best leg foremost put; - One brother's wounded in the gut; - And for the other, 'tis not clear - But he has burst his guts for fear. - - The surgeon was a soldier good, - And in his regimentals stood. - Soon as he heard of what had pass'd, - No surgeon ever ran so fast. - Talthybius, who his speed did view, - Swears to this day he thought he flew. - Away he hied, with double speed, - To help the king in time of need - (A double motive surgeons brings, - When they attend the wounds of kings; - It happens oft, as I have heard, - Besides their pay, they get preferr'd). - Away puff'd Chiron on full drive, - In hopes to see the king alive. - Standing he found the man he sought, - And cleaner than at first was thought. - His comrades look'd a little blue, - And so perhaps might I or you. - He pluck'd the arrow with such speed, - Close to the head he broke the reed; - On which he for the buckles felt, - And loos'd at once both head and belt: - When kneeling down upon the ground, - Like Edward's queen he suck'd the wound; - Then to the place, to give it ease, - Apply'd a salve of pitch and grease. - - But, while the surgeon was employ'd, - The Grecians sorely were annoy'd - By Trojan boys that flew about, - Resolv'd just then to box it out; - Roaring they came like drunken sailors, - Or idle combination tailors. - The king durst hardly go or stay; - But yet he scorn'd to run away: - Though peace might make his head appear - A little thick, in war 'twas clear. - Though his own coach was by his side, - Yet, like a man, he scorn'd to ride, - Lest they should think him touch'd with pride, - But ran on foot through all the host, - As nimbly as a penny post: - - And cries, Attend, each mother's son! - This battle must be lost or won. - Remember now your ancient glory, - What broken heads there are in story - Related of your fathers stout; - And you yourselves are talk'd about: - A Trojan fighting one of you, - Has odds against him three to two: - The rascals rotten are as melons, - And full of guilt as Newgate felons. - We'll have 'em all in chains and cuffs, - But till that time let's work their buffs. - This speech was made for men of mettle; - He next the cowards strives to settle: - - O shame to all your former trades, - The ridicule of oyster jades! - Do you intend to stand and see - Your lighters flaming in the sea? - A special time to stare and quake, - When more than all ye have's at stake! - Like stags, who, whilst they stand at bay, - Dare neither fight nor run away; - Perhaps you think it worth the while - For Jove to fight, and save you toil: - But you will find, without a jest, - He safest stands who boxes best. - - This said, like Brentford's mighty king - He march'd, and strutted round the ring. - Th' old Cretan gave him great content, - To see him head his regiment; - And to observe how void of fear - The bold Merion form'd the rear. - The serjeant-majors, in their places, - Advanc'd, with grim determin'd faces. - The king, elated much with joy, - Clasp'd in his arms the fine old boy: - O Idomen! what thanks we owe - To men of such-like mould as you! - Thy worth by far exceeds belief: - When Jove from war shall give relief, - Be thine the foremost cut o' th' beef: - And when our pots of ale we quaff, - Mix'd with small beer the better half, - Thy share, depend, shall never fail - To be a double pot, all ale. - - The Cretan had not learn'd to dance; - Had ne'er from Dover skipp'd to France: - For though 'tis plain he meant no evil, - You'll say his answer was not civil: - - There needs no words to raise my courage - So save your wind to cool your porridge: - I'll venture boldly though to say, - I'll act what you command this day: - Let but the trumpets sound to battle, - I'll make the Trojans' doublets rattle. - - The king was rather pleas'd than vex'd, - So travell'd onward to the next. - Ajax he found among his blues; - Ajax, says he, my boy, what news? - Now this he said, because 'twas hard - To have for all a speech prepar'd: - But yet he gladly feasts his eyes - With his new mode of exercise: - He found 'twas Prussian every inch; - Of mighty service at a pinch; - He saw him close his files, then double - (A trick, new learn'd, the foe to bubble); - Next wheel'd to right and left about, - And made 'em face both in and out; - Then turn upon the centre quick, - As easy as a juggler's trick; - Whence soon they form'd into a square; - Then back again just as they were. - By this parade, Atrides knew - That phalanx might be trusted to. - Now, all this while his plotting head - Had conn'd a speech, and thus he said: - - To say I'm pleas'd, O gallant knight! - Is barely doing what is right: - Thy soldiers well may heroes be, - When they such bright examples see. - - Would Jove but to the rest impart - A piece of thy undaunted heart, - Trojans would helter-skelter run, - And their old walls come tumbling down. - - The next he found was ancient Nestor, - Who, spite of age, was still a jester: - For military art renown'd, - As Bland's his knowledge was profound - Besides, when he thought fit, could speak - In any language--best in Greek. - The king espy'd his men in ranks, - And flew to give th' old firelock thanks; - Observ'd how just he plac'd his forces, - His footmen and his line of horses. - The foot[6] were wisely rang'd in front, - That they the first might bear the brunt. - - [Illustration: Book IV, page 198. - The king espied his men in ranks, - And flew to give th' old firelock thanks; - Observ'd how just he plac'd his forces, - His footmen and his line of horses. - The foot were wisely rang'd in front, - That they the first might bear the brunt.] - - The horse along the flanks he drew, - To keep 'em ready to pursue. - The rear made up of mod'rate men, - Half hearts of cock, half hearts of hen. - The very riff-raff rogues they venture - To squeeze together in the centre. - Thus fix'd, they kept a sharp look-out, - And ready stood to buckle to't. - A man with half an eye could see - A rare old Grecian this must be, - Who in so small a space could keep - His knaves from jumbling in a heap; - Then with a phiz as wise as grave - The following advice he gave: - - If you in battle chance to fall, - Don't stay to rise, for that spoils all; - To rise as some men do, I mean, - Burn foremost, then your back is seen; - But jump directly bolt upright, - Ready prepar'd to run or fight. - Advice like this our fathers took, - And drove the world along like smoke. - - Thus spoke the queer old Grecian chief, - And pleas'd the king beyond belief; - Who cry'd, 'Tis cursed hard that age - Should drive such leaders off the stage: - Whilst other bruisers die forgot, - Eternal youth should be thy lot. - - When Nestor shook his hoary locks, - And thus replies: Age, with a pox! - Will come apace: could I, forsooth, - Recall the strength I had in youth, - When Ereuthalion I did thwack, - Be sure I would that strength call back; - But dear experience can't be gotten - Till we're with tricks of youth half rotten: - The young are fittest for the field, - But to the old in council yield. - Though now my fighting bears no price, - Yet I can give you rare advice. - Fight you and scuffle whilst you're young, - My vigour centres in my tongue: - I would do more to show my love, - But can no other weapon move. - With joy great Agamemnon heard - This doughty knight o' th' grizzle beard, - - He left him then, because he had - No time to spare, things look'd but bad: - When, lo! he found Menestheus - In a most lamentable fuss. - His potlid he could not explore, - Because 'twas hid behind the door: - Searching about his tent all round him, - The gen'ral left him where he found him. - - Next spy'd Ulysses at his stand; - Th' old buffs were under his command: - Idle they lay at distance far, - Nor knew a word about the war: - Atrides saw them playing pranks, - And all disorder'd in their ranks; - Which made him in a mighty passion - The poor Ulysses fall slap dash on: - - I thought you, Mr. Slight-of-Hand, - Had known much better than to stand - Picking your fingers, whilst the rest - Are forc'd to box their very best, - And make a marvellous resistance - To keep these Trojan whelps at distance: - In time of peace you're much respected, - And never at our feasts neglected; - You're first i' th' list when I invite, - And therefore should be first in fight. - - The sage Ulysses, with a blush, - Returns for answer, Hush, hush, hush: - If you speak loud, the Trojans hear; - Not that we care, what need we fear? - But I'm persuaded you'll ere long - Wish you had kept that noisy tongue - Betwixt your teeth, nor let it pass - To tell us all you're half an ass; - Why, can't you see we're ready booted, - And I've just got my jacket clouted? - Without your keeping such a coil. - Ten minutes fits us for our broil; - Give you the word, and we'll obey, - At quarter-staff or cudgel play; - When we begin, perhaps I'll do - Such wonders as may frighten you. - - Well said, Ulysses! cries the king - (A little touch'd though with the sting - Of this rum speech); I only fear'd - To catch my warrior off his guard; - But am rejoic'd to find thee steady, - For broils and wenching always ready. - - He said, and pass'd to Diomede, - And caught him fast asleep in bed. - Zoons! quoth the king, I thought Tydides, - The man in whom my greatest pride is, - Might absent been perhaps a-whoring, - But little dreamt to catch him snoring: - Dost thou not hear the Trojans rattle? - Already they've begun the battle. - Not so thy father--none could doubt him, - He long ere this had laid about him; - Had gi'n the Trojans such a drubbing, - As would have say'd a twelvemonth's scrubbing: - 'Tis known he was a lad of wax, - Let <i>bellum</i> be the word, <i>aut pax</i>. - He was, indeed, of stature small, - But then in valour he was tall. - I saw him once, 'twas when he stray'd - To Polynice's house for aid; - Troopers he begg'd, and straight we gave 'em; - But Jove sent word he should not have 'em: - With long-tail'd comets made such rout, - That we e'en let him go without. - But after that, I know it fact, - He fifty blust'ring bullies thwack'd: - Nay, hold, I fib, 'twas forty-nine; - For one he sav'd, a friend of mine, - To witness that the tale was true, - Else 'twould have been believ'd by few. - Though two bold bruisers led them on, - Meon and sturdy Lycophon, - He trimm'd their jackets ev'ry one. - But I must tell you in this case, - And tell you flatly to your face, - Since our affairs so ill you handle, - You're hardly fit to hold his candle. - - With rage and grief Tydides stung, - Scratch'd his rump raw, yet held his tongue; - Provok'd by this abusive knight - To scratch the place that did not bite. - Not so the son of Capaneus; - He soon began to play the deuce: - - Good Mr. Chief, if you would try - To speak the truth, you would not lye; - Like other mortals though we rest, - We'll box it with the very best. - Though we, I say, and I'm no puffer, - By the comparison can't suffer; - Yet I insist it is not fair, - The sons with fathers to compare. - But pray, Sir, venture to be just; - And, when you think, I'm sure you must, - Spite of your wrath, be forc'd to say - We know to fight as well as they: - And give me leave, Sir, to assure ye, - Our arm's as strong, though less our fury. - Against proud Thebes our father fail'd; - With half their force the sons prevail'd: - Our fathers suffer'd in their shoes, - And died like damn'd blaspheming Jews; - But Jupiter himself stood by us, - Because he found the sons more pious. - Therefore, in spite of all your airs, - Our broils have made more noise than theirs. - - To him Tydides: Cease, my 'squire, - To wrangle thus; and curb thy fire. - Thy betters know the anxious chief - Is almost starv'd for want of beef; - No wonder then that he's so crusty, - 'Twould make or you or me ride resty: - But we will fight if he leads on, - And second him, my boy, ding dong. - He spoke, and took a flying jump, - And on the ground his breech came thump; - But up he sprang, and with a rattle, - His 'squire and he rush'd forth to battle; - And, as they hurried to begin, - Their buff-coats made a dreadful din: - As when the scavengers you meet, - Prepar'd with brooms to scour the street, - With gentle pace at first they sweep, - And a slow lazy motion keep. - 'Till wave on wave creates a flood - Of cabbage leaves and kennel mud; - But when the shovel plays its part, - It mounts aloft, and fills the cart: - So the Greek ragged bands move on, - The hindmost drive the front along; - No sound through all the ranks you hear, - Except the general chance to swear: - March and be d--d, the chief would say, - And silent all the troops obey. - Not so the Trojans' empty skulls, - Their noise exceeded Basan's bulls; - So many diff'rent shires, when squabbling - Like Welch and Scotch, must make rare gabbling. - To it they fall: a Heathen sprite - Heartens each army to the fight. - Mars backs the Trojans, Pallas seeks - To help her dear-beloved Greeks; - Discord and Terror rage in fight, - Attended by that spectre Flight. - Discord, the curse of Christian nations, - But most the bane of corporations; - When born, though smaller than a fly, - In half an hour she'll grow so high - Her head will almost touch the sky. - Too often at a lord mayor's feast - She comes, a most unwelcome guest; - Too often drags both great and small - In heat of blood to Wranglers' Hall[7]; - Where half their wealth is from 'em lugg'd, - Before they find themselves humbugg'd: - Affliction brings both sides to think; - So down they friendly sit and drink. - Vex'd they're drawn in to be employers - Of thieves, solicitors, and lawyers, - - Now bloody blows by scores are struck, - Yet not a man was seen to duck: - A noise of shouts and grumbling spreads, - From luckless knaves with broken heads: - With blood of noble captains wounded - Ten million ants and grubs were drowned. - As from a brewer's sink, a torrent - Comes with a most prodigious current, - And roaring with amazing force - Bears down in its resistless course - Stale radishes, bruis'd mint, and fennel, - Nor stops till it has reach'd the kennel; - So these two crowds each other jostle, - And 'twixt 'em make a dreadful bustle. - - The bloody fray is first begun - By chatt'ring Nestor's saucy son; - Echepolus by chance was nigh, - At whom he let his broomstick fly; - Upon the nob it hit him full, - Spoil'd his best hat, and crack'd his skull. - Down on the ground he tumbled souse, - Like tiles from Whitfield's meeting-house; - Or like an ancient country steeple, - That tumbling frights both priest and people; - When Elpenor, a crack-brain'd fellow, - Whose coat was red, and waistcoat yellow, - A staring, gaping, hair-brain'd prig, - Attempts to steal his hat and wig: - But, as he ventur'd forth his hand - To draw the plunder off the sand, - Hugging himself at his rare luck, - Agenor's broomshaft reach'd his pluck: - His potlid left his side unguarded, - And so the puppy got rewarded: - He falls, and sprawls about in blood, - And fills his mouth with dirt and mud. - - Now Greeks and Trojans round him flock; - And lend each other many a knock; - The sharpest weapon foremost put, - And strive to rip each others gut. - Simoisius, a lovely boy - As any you shall find in Troy: - On Ida's side his mother bore - The bantling, near Simois' shore; - And from that river, now so fam'd, - Her darling Simoisius nam'd: - Great Ajax took him for his mark, - And quickly chaunch'd the luckless spark. - For shame, you lubber! thus to catch - A harmless boy not half your match! - But honest Ajax ever thought, - 'Twas all the same, if he but fought: - Let him but go, away he stalks, - And strikes at reeds as well as oaks. - Thus the unlucky younker fell, - But how, he never yet could tell. - Like a tall tree, that Farmer Bates - Cuts down to mend his rotten gates, - With a huge squash its branches all - Get sorely rumpled by the fall; - So this poor boy, in tumbling down, - Lost a good wig, and bruis'd his crown. - - At Ajax then Antiphus throws - His staff; but how, he hardly knows: - In such a hurry are some widgeons, - They kill jack-daws instead of pigeons: - Such a strange blund'ring fellow this is; - He lam'd the fav'rite of Ulysses, - Just as he stooping was to catch - Poor Simmey's potlid and his watch, - Ulysses was confounded mad, - To see his fav'rite fare so bad: - He swore a little, that's the truth, - Look'd mighty big, and froth'd at mouth; - Then sudden from the ranks steps out, - Arm'd with a broomshaft firm and stout: - He makes a feint to fetch a stroke, - But first he turns with cautious look; - Then cries, Have at your whoring gullets; - I wish 'twas twenty ton of bullets. - Away the massy broomstick goes, - And carries dread to all the foes: - It reach'd a huge fat-gutted fellow, - For all the world like Punchinello: - He was old Priam's jolly son, - Too good a mark for sword or gun; - For, as a treble place he fill'd, - 'Twas three to one he must be kill'd. - Down tumbled he, with such a thwack, - He made, with his amazing back, - The earth just like a nutshell crack; - And shook the globe to th' centre so, - Old Pluto sent a sprite to know - The reason why these sons of men - Disturb'd him in his sooty den? - For, nodding on his red-hot throne, - They'd like to've brought him headlong down. - - The Trojans look'd a little black, - And 'gan to show the Greeks their back; - E'en Hector's self, with sullen pace, - Retreats, bum foremost, from his place: - The rest all tumble helter-skelter, - And run just where they could for shelter; - Whilst the victorious Greeks press on, - And pick their pockets when they're down. - - When Phoebus saw them run this pace, - He quick unmask'd his fiery face; - And hollo'ing from the Trojan wall, - As loud as ever he could bawl, - Cries, Halt, ye whelps! and strive to save - The little credit that you have: - Turn back, and make the Grecians feel - They are not made of brass or steel: - Achilles swears he'll fight no more, - For Gen'ral Rogue, or Madam Whore; - Then what the devil makes ye run, - Unless to get well drubb'd for fun? - What scurvy knave could thus amuse ye, - When scarce a single soul pursues ye? - Thus Phoebus, from the Trojan walls, - Their almost fainting hearts recalls: - Pallas hears all, and quickly starts up, - To back the Greeks, and keep their hearts up. - - Diores next: the sun can't shine - Upon a nobler than his line: - A lord he was, or earl, or duke, - But which, I have not time to look; - Yet could not all his titles rare - Defend him from the chance of war: - One Pirus threw a ragged stone, - Which sorely bruis'd his huckle-bone; - Depriv'd of power to make resistance, - He begs of all his peers assistance: - But, amongst all the valiant rout, - The de'il a man durst venture out; - 'Cause they were wanted at a pinch, - No single soul would stir an inch. - But whilst they wrangled which should go. - My lord got pelted by the foe. - Had he been driving all before him, - As surely as his mother bore him, - With eager haste these valiant souls - Had back'd his good success in shoals: - But when they saw he could not stand, - Not one would lend a helping hand: - And ever since this rule is held - 'Mongst lords at court, though not i' th' field. - - Thoas beheld this Thracian chief - Looking as fierce as roast bull-beef: - Thinks to himself, Young gentleman, - A knock I'll fetch you, if I can. - He then a well aim'd broomstick throws, - Which bruis'd his breast, and broke his nose: - With such a rattle was it thrown, - It quickly brought the varlet down. - The Thracian huffs, their leader tumbled, - In a great passion fought and grumbled, - And kept up such a woeful racket, - That Thoas durst not steal his jacket; - And though he cast a-squint his eyes, - He trudg'd-away without his prize. - - Thus fell two knights[8], the one of Thrace, - The other of some other place. - By fate of war, most strangely jumbled, - The conqu'rors with the conquer'd tumbled. - Had you been hung up by a thread, - But fifty yards above their head, - Or plac'd behind a good strong wall - In which there was a little hole, - The art of war you might have seen, - And wiser than before have been. - Thus fought the troops with might and main; - Some fell, some stood to fight again. - - - - [1] <i>Whoring.</i> You see Juno keeps continually harping on that word: we -may judge from thence, she came in for small share of the labours of -these whoring Trojans; but Venus did. There was one Anchises, a twice -five-fingered Trojan, that (as old stories say) used to thrum her -jacket. Æneas was the produce of their leisure hours. - - [2] <i>The same.</i> Here Juno overlooks a very severe rub of Jupiter's, -because he directly gives her leave to satiate her revenge: had it not -been for that, it is thought he would hardly have escaped without a -scratched face at least, or perhaps the loss of an eye. - - [3] <i>Destroy 'em, &c.</i> See the fury of an enraged woman! Rather than -Troy should escape, how easily she gives up three dearly-beloved towns! -But it is to be hoped, there are few such women alive now-a-days. - - [4] Saturn. - - [5] Borton, an honest chymist in Piccadilly. - - [6] I imagine the author has placed the troops as he thinks they should -be, not as they were. The author knows the Grecians had no horses but -what they used to their chariots: but, as he talks like an apothecary, -he gives himself what liberty he pleases. - - [7] W-stm--ster H-ll - - [8] It is supposed they were knights of the Black Ram, or some such -noble order; which is no objection to their being lords likewise. - - - - - THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Pallas, who on the Grecian side is, - Supports the courage of Tydides, - And quickly made the varlet sound, - By bathing well an ugly wound - With salt and water, which betwixt - Her legs she carried, ready mixt: - With the same stuff she wash'd one eye - So clear, that he the gods could spy. - - But hark, says she, a word between us - Pray make a thrust at none but Venus; - I'll give you leave her buff to enter, - But don't on any others venture: - Nor shall you that sly gipsey nick, - With any weapon but your--stick. - - Two Trojans now come on with speed, - To box this bully Diomed. - The first is quickly tumbled down, - And t'other would have follow'd soon, - But Venus coming in the nick - Her bastard sav'd, but got a prick - In her soft hand, which made her roar; - She ne'er felt such a prick before. - Apollo runs to help her out, - And lugs Æneas from the rout. - Mars, finding all the Trojans slack, - Claps bully Hector on the back. - Æneas, cur'd, returns to battle, - And makes the Grecian doublets rattle, - Whilst great Sarpedon in this fuss - Kills the foul'd-mouth'd Tlepolemus: - Pallas and Juno come from heav'n, - And find affairs at six and seven: - Diom. they send 'gainst Bully Mars; - He wounds his godship in the arse, - Who made more noise by far with roaring, - Than the whole bench of judges snoring. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK V. - - - - And now this scratching kicking jade, - By poets call'd the martial maid, - Finding the fray would soon begin, - Brought Diomed a dram of gin - From her own case of heavenly liquor, - Which made his spirits flow much quicker, - And swell'd his courage up so high - That all his comrades standing by - Seem'd each no bigger than a rat, - And he a swingeing tabby cat. - That he might see the foe to handle, - She in his beaver stuck a candle; - Which made him cut a dreadful figure, - And look at least twelve inches bigger: - Against his sandy pate this light - Shin'd with a flame so fierce and bright, - That by the people it was said - The dog-star was not half so red. - But the true case is this: the punk - Had made the bullying scoundrel drunk, - Which fill'd the knave so full of ire, - His sandy pate seem'd all on fire: - Thus, with a face as red as scarlet, - Upon the foe she drove the varlet. - Two sons of Dares, hopeful lads, - Both fav'rites of their good old dad's, - An honest soul that lov'd a full can, - And was high-priest to limping Vulcan, - The god of those ill-looking fellows - That ply the forge, and blow the bellows; - A swarthy, sweaty race of men, - Call'd blacksmiths now, as well as then. - In Vulcan's church the good old wight - Smok'd a dry pipe from morn to night: - But as the boys had got no voice - For singing psalms, he gave 'em choice, - Whether they'd go to th' wars a-fighting, - Or stay at home and mind their writing. - The first they chose, and now for fame - Resolv'd at Tyd. to take their aim; - When Phegeus, as their cart drew nigh; - That instant let his broomstick fly; - But by good luck it only tipp'd - The shoulder's point, and off it slipp'd - Without much harm. Tydides now - A swingeing knotty broomshaft threw, - Which gave his stomach such a thump, - As fell'd the lad upon his rump. - Ideus then was glad to run, - And leave, i' th' lurch his mother's son; - Though, had not limping vulcan taken - Some pains to save the stripling's bacon, - His running could not, I assure ye, - Have say'd him from the Grecian's fury - (For Tyd. could run, in time of need, - What jockeys call a hellish speed); - But he so safe the younker put - Within a cloud as black as soot, - The Greek might, ere he found his prize out, - Have star'd a dozen pair of eyes out. - Resolv'd no longer then to blunder, - He seiz'd the cart for lawful plunder; - And, all recov'ry to prevent, - Dispatch'd the booty to his tent. - - The Trojans in a dreadful fright, - Finding that one was vanish'd quite, - Swore that the dog had beat one brother, - And for his breakfast eat the other. - - Meanwhile Minerva, never sick - Of playing Troy some slipp'ry trick - (For by the sequel you will find - Paris was ever in her mind); - Although she was of wisdom goddess, - Yet, what to me most strange and odd is, - To be the wisest would not do, - But she must be the prettiest too: - This claim the sex assert, and still - Wisdom gives way to woman's will. - Her head was now of crotchets full, - How to hum Mars's leaden skull. - Quoth she, and grasp'd his clumsy fist, - Certain to lead him where she list: - - O thou that sett'st the world by th' ears, - And bring'st them into quaking fears, - Let all these hangdogs fight it out, - And Jove decide the end o' th' rout! - Let us march off, for if we stay - He swears he'll drive us both away; - And you well know in what queer fashion - He uses people in his passion: - And 'faith 'twould be a queerish jest, - For us two mongrels to contest - With him, who, at a single kick, - Can send all heaven to Old Nick. - These words took down the cut-throat's mettle, - And made his boiling gizzard settle. - On this they jointly ply'd their shanks, - And quickly reach'd the river's banks; - Where down they sat, to hear the moans - Of batter'd skulls and broken bones. - - Meantime the furious Grecians follow - The Trojans with a whoop and halloo, - Who having lost their bully, Mars, - Got ev'ry man a kick o' th' arse: - Nay, Fame, who all men's business knew, - Says, ev'ry Grecian drubb'd his two. - First, Odius tumbled in the dirt; - He blam'd that rogue Atrides for't: - In his old cart he thought to fly, - But the bluff Greek was got too nigh; - His knotty broomstick reach'd his back, - And lent him such a thund'ring thwack - As made him with a vengeance feel, - And fell'd him headlong o'er the wheel. - - Phestus, old farmer Borus' son, - Saw it was time for him to run, - But thought it the most prudent part - To carry off his horse and cart; - So strove to mount, when in the nick - Idomeneus sent his stick; - With such a rattle did it come, - It brought him squash upon his bum. - - Scamandrius then, a huntsman good - As ever drove through plain or wood, - Next tumbled down: Diana taught - This swain how snipes and hares are caught; - How, in a scarcity of cats, - To clear folks' barns from mice and rats, - By setting traps, and that way rout 'em; - Or with a cross-bow he could shoot 'em; - Yet at this crisis all his art - Doth not avail a single f--t; - The cuckold[1] fetch'd him such a stroke, - As half his ribs and back-bone broke. - Down came Pilgarlick with a bang, - And loud his copper pot-lid rang. - Then Pherocles, a good mechanic, - Seiz'd with a Preston-pan-ish panic, - Ran stoutly; which Merion eyeing, - With his rough broomstick shot him flying. - For building huts, and boats, and lighters, - The de'il a loon among these fighters - Could be compar'd to Pherocles: - He beat a thousand such as these. - The boat he built, each plank and piece, - That carried Paris o'er to Greece; - But little thought that he was doing - A job that ended in his ruin. - The broomshaft bruis'd his hip or thigh, - No matter which to you or I. - - Antenor's by-blow next succeeds, - And by a mighty mopstick bleeds: - Though strange, Antenor's wife, 'tis known, - Nurs'd this young bastard like her own. - 'Twas labour lost, for Meges soon - With an old mopstick brought him down. - Whiz through the air the weapon flew, - And hit his jaws with aim so true - It made him bite his tongue in two. - - Hypenor, who was far too good - To live among so vile a brood, - Was curate to Scamander's flood, - Near which his house and garden stood; - Where, by the help of gentle show'rs, - He rais'd green peas and cauliflow'rs: - Euripilus his shoulder struck, - And lent him a confounded knock; - Which glancing downward bruis'd his hand, - And holy blood dropp'd o'er the land. - The curate's pray'rs, though very good, - Could not prevent his losing blood. - - Thus each man labour'd in his post; - But Diomed still rul'd the roast: - Like Jack with lanthern, ev'ry where - He skipp'd about; now here now there: - If they won't fight, their steps he traces, - And kicks their bums, or scrats their faces: - Thus, when a hasty show'r comes down - Upon a sneaking taylor's crown, - The stream a mighty world annoys, - And swarms of nits and lice destroys; - Washes the lousy varlet clean, - And nits and lice have bred in vain: - Just so this bully Greek, for fun, - Kick'd the poor rogues by dozens down. - - Now Pandarus was stung to th' quick - To see the knave thus bounce and kick; - With all his might his bow he bent, - And a sharp-pointed arrow sent, - Which lent his shoulder such a thump, - As made the busy varlet jump; - One hair-breadth farther had he shot. - The Greek had surely gone to pot: - When Pandarus, brimful of joy, - Roars out, Look here, ye sons of Troy, - And view this mighty Grecian fighter; - I've made the dog some ounces lighter: - Kill him, if you dare venture near him; - But as it is you need not fear him; - For what I've done will surely fell him, - Or Phoebus lies, and that I'll tell him. - The Lycian boasted thus his might: - He boasted, but it prov'd a bite: - For Diom., when he felt it smart, - Popp'd down, and ran behind his cart: - Then call'd his coachman, Hark ye, sirrah, - Come here, and lug me out this arrow. - The coachman twitch'd his thong about - The arrow's head, and whipp'd it out; - And then the bully on his bare - Kneppers knelt down, and roar'd a pray'r: - - O virgin Pallas, wise and bold, - With whom no brim dare kick and scold! - Of thee the men are so afraid, - 'Tis ten to one thou'lt die a maid; - For who the pox would venture near - A nimble-fisted vixen, where, - Instead of kisses, he, perhaps, - Might get a dowsing slap o' th' chaps? - If ere thou help'd my good old dad, - When his affairs were bitter bad, - And often favour'd his escape - From many a broil and drunken scrape; - Pr'ythee bring help, and cure this scratch, - And make thy buck an over-match - For that damn'd scrub, that dares pretend - To wound the blood that you defend. - - No sooner had he ceas'd to bawl, - But Pallas, ready at his call, - With warm salt water, full as good - As Rock's best styptic, stopp'd the blood; - But finding that it made him grin, - She gave him t'other dram of gin: - This swell'd him up to such a pitch, - That now he felt his finger itch - To try his luck at cudgel-play, - Or quarter-staff, or any way. - - Be bold, says Pall., where'er thou go'st, - And of this dram pray make the most; - There's so much virtue in't, that thou - Both gods and mortal scrubs shalt view - (For nothing clears the sight from gum, - Like a good dram of gin or rum). - Shun all their godships if you can, - They'll prove too many for mere man; - But if you meet the whoring goddess, - Ram thy stiff weapon through her boddice; - Take care you come not near her thighs, - For there a dang'rous mouse-trap lies! - Though I am sore afraid you'll miss her, - And 'stead of fighting long to kiss her; - But if you prove so mighty civil, - Myself will send you to the devil. - When she appears, don't gaping stand, - But use the tool you have in hand; - If you grope out for any other, - Don't think that I my rage will smother; - But will, instead of lending help, - Drub you myself, you whoring whelp! - Think not I threaten what I won't - Perform; for split me if I don't! - Then tuck'd her coats up, and bestrode - Her broomstick, and away she rode. - - As on a chop, when hunger calls, - A needy half-pay ensign falls, - If the smug waiter stumbling leaves - Some drops of grease upon his sleeves, - He swears and raves in direful note - For spoiling of his scarlet coat; - The trembling waiters dare not stay, - But nimbly take themselves away, - Afraid of drubbing, kicks, or cuffing, - And leave the dreadful captain huffing: - Just so Tydides fights and blusters, - And Trojans run, and fall in clusters: - Before, one serv'd his turn; but now - His mighty fury kicks down two. - But how he manag'd it, and whether - He kick'd with both his legs together, - I cannot say; but very soon - He kick'd a brace of Trojans down: - The one was called Astynous, - An honest cock, and one of us; - Hypenor was the other's name, - A mighty lover of that same. - These left, he took the other kick, - And sent two others to Old Nick; - Sons of Eurydamas they were, - Who was a fortune-teller rare; - Whilst men consult for stolen horses, - He took good care to steal their purses; - Yet could he not by magic read - This blust'ring rogue, this Diomede, - Should drub his sons: so this clean birch - Was by the devil left i' th' lurch, - Who did not give one hint that he - The lads again should never see. - Thus swimmingly the knave went on, - And kill'd two birds with every stone. - - Xanthus the next he laid a blow on, - And then knock'd down his brother Thoon, - The only sons of aged Phænops, - Who got much pelf by brown and green hops; - But suffering both to list for rangers, - His shop and goods now go to strangers. - As when a lordly bailiff stands - With dreadful writs in both his hands, - Poets by pairs he first falls on, - And pulls them from their garrets down; - So he two fellows, Priam's sons, - Fell'd with one stroke upon their bums. - - Æneas saw his townsfolk bleed, - Or run away from Diomede: - Which made him sharply look about - To find the brawny Pand'rus out, - To whom the canting Trojan cries, - I'm glad I've found you, smite my eyes! - Those darts of yours, and that long bow, - May do a deal of service now: - That cursed rogue for God's sake maul, - Else he will bruise and lame us all; - Some angry god's perhaps come down - To drub the people of our town, - Because we could not pay our vows, - For want of sheep, and bulls, and cows: - If it be so, we'll then entreat him; - But if he prove a man, let's beat him. - - The Lycian thus: If I can see, - 'Tis Diomede: by Jove, 'tis he! - Or else it is some god of note - That wears that scoundrels greasy coat; - If 'tis the man, some damn'd old bitch, - A Lancashire or Lapland witch, - Preserves the dog, and out of spite - Helps him to bounce, and kick, and fight. - I shot a dart, with aim as true - As in my life I ever drew; - It gave his shoulder such a thump, - I saw the scurvy rascal jump; - But some curst Lapland witch, indeed, - Hath stood his friend in time of need, - And out of spite, I thank her for't, - Has made my arrow's point stop short. - Having a little skill, you know, - At shooting pigeons with my bow, - I thought it best on foot to come, - And leave my cart-tits all at home-- - Not but of carriages I've plenty; - I've got the better half of twenty. - My good old daddy, for his part, - Persuaded me to trust the cart. - Says he, If hap your spits don't gore 'em, - You'll break their legs by driving o'er 'em: - But I, to saving schemes inclin'd, - Th' old fellow's counsel did not mind, - Turn'd up my nose with scorn, and so - Resolv'd to trust my faithless bow, - Because, my friend, I could not say - If corn was cheap with you, and hay; - Should not your pastures prove extensive, - To pay for corn would be expensive; - So, like an ass, at Troy you find me, - My cart and horses left behind me. - With this damn'd bow, a plague confound 'em, - I only scratch, but cannot wound 'em; - Wounding is not a task so easy, - Their buff-coats are so hellish greasy: - I could, as sure as I was born, - Find in my heart to break the horn! - A luckless dog! to touch your shore, - And not provide himself good store - Of broomsticks, half a score or more; - And a great banging potlid too; - I've three at home as good as new. - - Æneas answers: Fie for shame! - Pray don't your bow and arrows blame, - They're Phoebus' gift: with these you may - At distance ducks and wild geese slay; - They have their uses, let me tell ye, - When timber's wanting for the belly: - And now, if we would play the deuce, - The cart and horses are for use. - Then, pr'ythee, on the box do you - Nimbly mount up, and drive jehu: - These little tits of mine, I'm sure, - Can trot eleven miles an hour. - Myself will bid the scoundrel stand, - And box the rascal hand to hand; - Or if you choose that I should flog - The horses, you may box the dog. - - Pand'rus replies: Without more tattle, - Rule you your own celestial cattle; - As for my driving, 'tis a jest, - You sure must know to guide 'em best; - Besides, if hap that you and I - Should scamper, you can make 'em fly; - With me if resty they should grow, - He might demolish us, you know. - Do you be coachman then, and I - The mettle of this whelp will try. - - Thus having stated the account, - The cart then instantly they mount; - With furious haste they drive the cattle, - And, thund'ring, seek the thickest battle. - Tydides' 'squire, with half an eye, - Quickly perceiv'd 'em drawing nigh; - Then cries, Brave Diomede, I see - Two lusty lubbers aim at thee; - One is the son of old Lycaon; - T'other, of him that us'd to lay on - The goddess Venus: what's his name?-- - Anchises.--Right, the very same. - Enough in conscience have you done; - Whilst we've good start, e'en let us run: - Saving your bacon is the way - To save us all another day. - - Tydides star'd, and cry'd, What now? - Pray what's the matter, friend, with you? - When Agamemnon only told you, - We durst not fight, I could not hold you; - You kick'd, and danc'd, and bounc'd, and swore, - And scolded like a butter-whore: - I little thought my bold bell-wether - Had since got shod with running leather: - Or that he in the least could hope - I'd run away like Johnny Cope. - Not I, by Jove! for all their bouncing, - I'll give their rogueships such a trouncing, - They shall be glad, for all their pother, - By leaving one to save the other. - I've either got a second sight, - Or else a quaker's inward light, - Which tells me I shall slap the chaps - Of one of these, or both perhaps. - If it should happen in the jumble, - That both these fighting fellows tumble, - As from my soul I wish they may, - Mind you remember what I say: - My horses to my cart-tail tie; - You'll hear my reason by and by; - Then in the empty carriage get you, - And drive, as if the devil split you, - Down to the boats.--Æneas brags - All Europe cannot match these nags: - Jove gave 'em to the duke of Troy, - Because he stole his little boy; - Childers or Conqueror cannot - Gallop so fast as they can trot; - The swiftest tits of earthly seed, - Compar'd with these, are dung-cart breed. - Anchises, like a cunning elf, - Brought mares to cover for himself; - Four in his stalls are feeding now - On barley-straw, besides these two - That draw Æneas: could we catch 'em, - Not all our Grecian scrubs can match 'em. - - Whilst thus they talk'd they both came on, - And Pandarus the first begun - - Well met, my buff! but, hit or miss, - I'll try again, so take you this: - Where my unlucky bow fell short, - My stick shall have a trial for't. - Then threw his staff; the sudden stroke - Quite through and through the potlid broke; - But, guided by the goddess Luck, - It in his greasy buff belt stuck. - - I've sous'd him now! the Lycian cries. - Not yet, the surly Greek replies: - Your stick has bilk'd your fist, so now - I'll let you feel what mine will do: - If one or both I do not souse, - Minerva's dram's not worth a louse. - He said, and, rising on his toes, - Lent him a dowse across the nose; - Betwixt his eyes the staff drove in, - And bruis'd both nose, and mouth, and chin. - With such a rattle from the cart - He fell, as made the horses start; - Earth groan'd as she receiv'd him tumbling, - And the soul left the body grumbling. - - His staff Æneas durst not send, - But kept it safe to guard his friend; - Turn'd it each way, and whipp'd about, - And kept a dev'lish sharp look-out, - For fear the Greeks should steal away - His greasy jacket as he lay; - And did so rave, and curse, and swear, - The de'il a Grecian durst go near; - When bold Tydides, stooping down, - Took up a large Scotch paving-stone-- - Four modern beaux could hardly lift - This stone, though six might make a shift-- - Flourish'd it round, away it goes - Full at the bullying Trojan's jaws - But though it did not reach so high, - With such a fury 'twas let by, - It wounded both his hip and thigh; - The huckle-bone was sorely smash'd, - And head o'er heels the warrior dash'd; - His swimming eyes perceiv'd a mist, - His swimming thighs were sore bepist. - By death he'd sure been overtaken, - If Venus had not sav'd his bacon; - But, mindful of the many slices - She got on Ida with Anchises, - The many hours of pleasing fun - She spent at getting of this son, - Resolv'd, at any rate or cost, - He should not be so poorly lost. - Behind my veil, where none can see us, - Thinks she, I'll hide this son Æneas; - So whipp'd him up without delay, - And trotted with her prize away. - - Now Sthenelus, the bully's carter, - Remember'd what he heard that Tartar - His master say, so quickly ty'd - His geldings to his carriage side; - Then running to the Trojan tits, - Buckled the reins within the bits, - Nor did he spare his whip or throat - Till he had reach'd his master's boat: - - To thee, Deipylus, he cries, - I give in charge this mighty prize: - Then mounts his cart, and takes the route - To find his master kill-cow out. - The bully, when he found his prey - Some how or other slipp'd away, - Says to himself, This Madam Venus - Has thrown a queerish cloud between us; - And, by my sneezing, sure enough - 'Tis dust of Scotch or Spanish snuff! - Should it be so, though faith it odd is - For mortal man to thump a goddess, - Yet since she does me so provoke, - I'll try if I can't get a stroke. - - This said, he nimbly ran about - To find this Madam Venus out; - Through the thick ranks he boldly ventur'd, - And with his tool the goddess enter'd: - With such a force he drove it in, - It made the light-heel'd gipsy grin: - Straight from the place where he did stick her - There came a bright transparent liquor - (Not such queer stuff as flows in common - When pins are stuck into a woman); - Help! murder! murder! Venus cries out, - Roaring as if she'd roar her eyes out: - The devil take this tearing blade; - Zoons, what a gap the dog has made! - If Jove protects these sons of bitches, - To treat us thus like Lapland witches, - He'll first repent, for I know well, - Give rogues an inch they'll take an ell: - I've try'd 'em oft, and find all yet - Will squeeze as far as they can get. - But what the most my mind doth ruffle, - I've lost my bastard in the scuffle. - But Phoebus whipp'd amongst the crowd, - And wrapt him snug within a cloud. - - Tydides then was heard to say - To Venus, as she ran away: - From broils like these you'd best forbear; - Pray what the pox should you do here? - Go tempt some bawdy judge or warden, - Or mind your brims in Covent Garden: - Let the home-thrust you got to-day - Teach you from broils to keep away. - - Whilst thus the Grecian chief did prate, - Like drunken whores at Billingsgate, - Poor Venus ran through all the crowd, - As if by constables pursu'd; - When quickly Madam Iris miss'd her, - And flew like lightning to assist her. - She found her in a bloody sweat, - Her smock from top to bottom wet: - At first they thought away to fling it, - Or, upon second thoughts, to wring it; - Because the loss of a good smock - Would make a hole in Venus' stock: - But had no time for either way, - For Venus swore she durst not stay; - So with it cleaving round her thighs - Away to bully Mars she flies. - Behind a sutler's tent they found him, - With twenty sutlers' wives around him, - Drinking hot pots with might and main, - Till all their noddles smok'd again, - And made so thick a fog, that she - The god at first could hardly see. - Blubb'ring she tells him she is come - To beg his car to drive her home; - Then shows the place where Diomede - Had push'd it home, and made her bleed. - - Mars, list'ning, star'd and cock'd his eye, - Then answer'd, Madam, zoons, don't cry, - You're welcome to my nags and cart; - I'll fetch them quickly, damn my heart[2] - Iris, who farts ten thousand colours, - Can drive as smooth as Chelsea skullers. - They mount; the nimble horses fly, - And in a twinkling reach the sky; - Where both alight, put up their steeds, - Which Iris with new clover feeds; - When Venus to her mammy ran, - To make complaint about this man: - She rais'd her in her arms, quite sick, - And ask'd her where she got that prick. - - No god, quoth she, hath done this hurt, - It was a thing made up of dirt; - A mortal rogue, call'd Diomede, - Has made the queen of beauty bleed; - 'Gainst Troy they think they've so much odds, - They'll fight both them, and all their gods. - - Dione thus: Have patience, daughter, - Fretting will never mend the matter. - The gods give plague enough to man, - And they return it when they can. - E'en bully Mars himself lay bound - For a whole twelvemonth under ground - Otus and Epialtus catch'd him, - And both together overmatch'd him; - And had not Ereboea spy'd him, - And told it Hermes, who unty'd him, - And slily stole the whelp away, - He'd been a pris'ner to this day; - Nor could the ranting roaring elf, - With all his bullying, help himself. - Amphytrion's saucy bastard, you know, - Made a strong push at madam Juno, - And gave her as much pain, she said, - As when she lost her maidenhead. - Nor could black Pluto, though a devil, - Make bully Hercules be civil: - But he, as ancient stories tell, - Kick'd this great devil out of hell, - Who, finding home was not secure - From kicks and bruises, ran for cure - To heaven, where Peon rubb'd the chief - With nothing but a plantain leaf, - Which cur'd his batter'd ribs so well, - He tripp'd it back quite sound to hell. - This Diomede was urg'd by Pallas, - Who cares not if he comes to th' gallows; - Nor heeds she, be he Jew or Turk - That undertakes her dirty work. - This Diomede shall never see - A chatt'ring bastard on his knee, - To cry, when he has ceas'd to roam, - O, mammy, here's my dad come home - For yet, I say, this Diomede - By some strong-fisted god may bleed; - Then shall his wife, disturb'd in sleep, - Drive all her maids about like sheep, - Shall rave, and roam, and rant, and roar, - My strong-back'd husband is no more! - - This said, she squatted on her bum, - And wash'd the wounded palm in rum; - Then to the sore apply'd anon - The drops of mighty Turlington. - Juno and Madam Pallas were - So pleas'd, they grinn'd from ear to ear; - When Pallas, full of fun and glee, - Began a speech with he-he-he: - - Venus, as haps to many a punk, - Has been in such a woeful funk, - That how this ugly stroke befell her - She hardly knows, so, I must tell her. - As she a country wench did teach - Last night to scratch where't did not itch, - By telling her what fun and joy - The wenches have that live in Troy, - The girl's great clumsy girdle-buckle - Rubb'd all the skin from off her knuckle. - - Jove laugh'd, and with a merry face - Calls out, Come here, you simple lass; - In shoving-matches you may shine, - But don't in bruising-matches join; - All day let Mars and Pallas fight, - You weapons handle best at night. - - Above stairs whilst they chatted so, - Tydides work'd their buffs below. - As Venus was too swift to follow, - He turn'd about to box Apollo, - Hoping, if he could make him stop, - He might by chance Æneas drop; - Three strokes he at Apollo makes, - As oft the god his pot-lid shakes; - But when he struck again, the Sun - With such a noise a speech begun, - The saucy dog was glad to run. - - You whelp! says he, you know, the odds - Betwixt your logger-heads and gods - Is above ninety-nine to one; - Then what the pox are you upon? - We are immortal, can't see death, - Whilst you, like vermin, creep on earth, - Till, having made a stinking rout, - We clap our foot, and tread you out. - - Thus spake the god, with fi'ry face; - But Tyd. had wisely left the place. - He then the Trojan quickly bore, - Where two old women rubb'd him o'er - With pilgrim's salve, to cure the sprain, - Which set him on his legs again, - Strengthen'd each part, and heal'd the wound, - And in ten minutes made him sound. - - Mean time Apollo carv'd a face - Of clouds, to take Æneas' place; - The body, head, and arms, and legs, - And jerkin, were as like as eggs. - This phantom in the battle stood, - And fought as if 'twere flesh and blood; - But yet the de'il a soul could wound it, - Though bloody blows were struck around it. - - In the mean time, from Troy's high walls - To blust'ring Mars Apollo calls: - Thou son of Jupiter, and his chief - When he's a mind to do folks mischief, - Rise up! and in thy fury seek - To kill yond' harum scarum Greek. - The whelp at Venus push'd, and hit her - With a tool large enough to split her; - But she, in dangers ever calm, - Receiv'd it in her sweaty palm, - Stopp'd his long staff in mid career, - And made it spend its venom there. - When his design on Venus mist, - At me the rascal clench'd his fist, - Nor do I make the least dispute, - He'll box thy father Jove to-boot. - - Away the battle-monger jogs, - Resolv'd to pelt these saucy dogs; - But ere the god began to bluster, - He thought it best all hands to muster; - Those scatter'd rogues that ran away - He soon brought back, and made 'em stay: - Then slipping on bold Ac'ma's coat, - He thus began to tune his throat: - - O Trojans, valiant sons of Priam! - May I be shot to death if I am. - Not quite asham'd to see all hands - Running away like stout train-bands! - Our rogues don't make the least resistance, - Yet we don't stir to give assistance; - My patience is quite gone to see us: - Consider but how bold Æneas, - Though stout as Hector ev'ry bit, - Is sore bep--t, if not bes--t! - - Thus, like an Indian priest, to th' top - O' th' house he blew their courage up. - Sarpedon felt the first great puff, - And thus began to bounce and snuff: - - Hector, says he, I've heard you crack - You would these Grecians' jackets thwack, - Without the help of any others - Except your bastard-getting brothers; - But now I see, upon a pinch, - The stoutest of you all can flinch; - Can gaping stand, or run away, - And leave to Hessian troops the fray: - It matters not a pinch of snuff - To me, my farm lies far enough - From these damn'd plund'ring rogues in buff. - I've plenty there of hay and corn, - And a fine child as e'er was born; - Besides, as notable a wife - As any man can for his life - Wish to be plagu'd with: yet I cheer - My merry men to fight your war, - And, like a busy jackanapes, - Bustle to help you out of scrapes; - Though I have little cause to fret, - From me a sous they cannot get. - But Hector idle stands, nor cares - How it with other people fares. - The bold at thy command, old boy, - Will box their very best for Troy: - Pr'ythee look sharp, and tell us how - To bring ourselves well off just now; - Advance you bucks, should Greece attack you, - Depend we'll follow close and back you. - - [Illustration: Book V, page 269-70. - The youth, to show how well he rides, - Canters along the post-chaise' sides, - Through clouds of dust so thick, that he - His palfrey's ears can hardly see; - And ere he rides a mile, none knows - The colour of his face or cloths.] - - Hector made faces at this dose; - The Lycian rubb'd him up too close; - Yet coolly took it in good part, - And nimbly leap'd from off his cart; - In either hand a staff did shake, - That made the boldest Grecian quake; - Then turn'd his tatter'd rogues from flight, - And led them on again to fight: - They turn, look fierce, and scorn to flinch; - Nor will the Grecians budge an inch. - As in a barn the chaff doth rise, - And fly about the thrasher's eyes, - His well-worn doublet covers quite, - And changes greasy brown to white; - Or as a cockney who attends - His girl to see her country friends-- - The youth, to show how well he rides, - Canters along the post-chaise' sides, - Through clouds of dust so thick, that he - His palfrey's ears can hardly see; - And ere he rides a mile, none knows - The colour of his face or clothes: - Just so appear'd the Grecian forces, - Cover'd with dust by carts and horses. - Mars in the middle of 'em stood, - With a huge pot-lid daub'd in blood; - And highly pleas'd he is to follow - The task assign'd him by Apollo. - Soon as Minerva went away - To drink her tea, and left the fray, - Mars nick'd the time when she was gone, - To lead the fainting Trojans on; - And then produc'd Æneas to - His joyful friends in <i>status quo</i>, - Attended by a dozen fellows - That look'd as if they'd 'scap'd the gallows - What way he came they little care; - 'Twas joy enough to find him there. - Fierce Discord now began to grumble; - Apollo made a fearful rumble; - Fame roar'd with all her hundred tongues; - Mars almost tore his brazen lungs: - In short, so well they play'd the deuce, - The Grecians thought all hell broke loose. - - Tydides with great Ajax stood, - Ulysses too, all daub'd with blood, - So firm, you'd think, besides the head, - Their bodies too were wood or lead. - The Grecians clos'd their files, and then - Expect the foe, like Englishmen. - No word was heard through all the host, - They look as made of stone or post. - Thus, on a sultry summer's day, - When all the winds have ceas'd to play, - A cloud of smoke obscures the top - Of neighbour Drinkall's blacksmith's shop. - - And now great Agamemnon's shanks - Kept trotting up and down the ranks, - Setting his knaves in proper rows, - And turning out their sweaty toes: - Then to his fainting crew begun - To speak as thus: If once ye run, - By Jove, you'll all be piss'd upon! - Some people think they're mighty cunning, - If they can save themselves by running; - But let me tell you, this good day, - The man's undone that runs away. - - No more he jabber'd, but on high - In air he let his trapstick fly. - The broomshaft happ'd to light upon - A hearty cock, nam'd Deicoon, - Æneas' friend, belov'd by all - The race of Priam, great and small, - Long had he fought in foremost ranks, - And oft receiv'd the Speaker's thanks; - His potlid, though exceeding tough, - To ward the blow's not strong enough, - The targe is bruis'd, the belt is cut, - And lent him a damn'd knock o' th' gut. - The stroke dispatch'd the loon to hell, - And his teeth chatter'd as he fell. - Æneas straight lugs out his stick, - And ply'd his strokes so very thick, - That two bold Grecian bloods, as soon - As you'd count five, he tumbled down; - Their pedigrees if you will trace, - You'll find but few of higher race: - These sparks, demolish'd by Æneas, - Were great great grandsons of Alpheus, - A good old fisherman, that never - Was tir'd with fishing in the river; - But did so close to business keep, - Amongst the sedges he would sleep. - They came to help the cuckold Greek - His cuckold-making wife to seek; - Just like two mastiff puppies, which - Had stray'd too early from the bitch, - Ventur'd, before their teeth were grown, - To fight, so both got tumbled down. - Great Menelaus fit to cry, - Full tilt does at Æneas fly. - Mars jogg'd him on to make his stand, - And feel the Trojan's heavy hand. - This Nestor's chatt'ring bastard 'spies, - And quick t' his assistance flies; - Thinks he, if this rum spouse of Nelly - Should get a knock across the belly, - By all this trouble we shall gain - To know, our labour is in vain. - - The heroes now had met each other, - And shak'd their nobs at one another; - When fierce Antilochus was seen - To throw his potlid in between. - The Trojan swore it was not fair - One man should, box with such a pair - Of ill-look'd whelps, so turn'd about - To find a better bargain out, - And left the two poor souls; he'd beaten, - On the green grass to bleach and sweeten. - - [Illustration: Book V, page 275. - The Trojan swore it was not fair - One man should, box with such a pair - Of ill-look'd whelps, so turn'd about - To find a better bargain out.--] - - There was a man well cloth'd in buff, - That led the Paphlagonians tough. - Atrides took the proper season, - Behind his back to cut his weasand: - His 'squire had turn'd his nags to run, - When in came chatt'ring Nestor's son, - And threw a thumping cobble stone, - Which hit his arm, and broke the bone. - 'Twas follow'd by a knock o' the crown; - He drops the reins, and tumbles down. - His skull-cap plough'd the sand, and there - His nob stuck fast, his legs in air - Were kicking flies, but very soon - Some hackney-Coadies ran him down: - The younker then, without delay. - Whips up, and drives his cart away. - - All this was seen by valiant Hector, - The Trojans' hope and great protector, - Who thund'ring did the battle enter; - His soldiers follow at a venture. - The boldest Greeks he valued not, - Since he'd such rare companions got. - Bellona fierce, and Mars so grum, - Attended closely at his bum. - Tydides quickly smelt a rat; - His valiant heart went pit-a-pat. - As when a simple country put, - To see his grannum walks on foot, - If running brook comes cross his nose, - And with a mighty bustle flows, - Amaz'd the gaping bumpkin stops, - Turns on his heels, and home he pops: - Poor Diom. was as much amaz'd, - And gaz'd and gap'd, and gap'd and gaz'd; - At last, though woefully afraid, - He found his tongue, and thus he said: - - Smite me, but I've been wond'ring what - Could make my heart go pit-a-pat; - But now 'tis out, for bully Mars - I see is hard at Hector's a--e: - Therefore, my boys, since that the case is, - Fall back, but show the whelp your faces. - We'll fight with men, and give them odds, - But devils cannot fight with gods. - - As they walk'd off, bold Hector soon - Came up, and knock'd two fellows down, - Full captains both, and hearts of oak, - Yet both their pates stern Hector broke; - Together in one c'rt they tumbled, - And from it both together tumbled. - This heavy Ajax chanc'd to see, - Which turn'd his lead to mercury, - And, being a revengeful dog - (Though mostly heavy as a log), - A mopstick with such force he threw, - As bruis'd the breast, and belly too, - Of Amphius, who once as happy - In flocks and herds, and good brown nappy; - Yet bravely led his jolly men - To Troy, but ne'er went back again. - As he fell squash upon his bum, - His potlid made a mighty hum. - Ajax sprung forward, for he thought - To get possession of his coat; - But to come at it was the matter, - Broomsticks about his ears so clatter; - Yet did he venture one bold click - For the recov'ry of his stick. - More he durst not, the foe came on; - He struts away, but scorns to run. - - Whilst thus they tugg'd, a man there came, - Tlepolemus I think his name, - Driving his fiery tits full speed on. - To get a knock at bold Sarpedon: - He was the son of Hercules, - Who did a huge great lion seize, - Pull'd his great beard from off his chin, - And from his body stripp'd his skin, - Then with an iron skewer did tack it - About his shoulders for a jacket; - This bully's son, before a stroke - Was struck, to bold Sarpedon spoke: - - Halloo! you, Mr. Lycian pleader, - Pray how the pox 'came you a leader? - Your business is, if I judge right, - To puzzle causes, not to fight; - Such pretty fellows much I love - To call themselves the sons of Jove. - Pray, Sir, what task was ever set you, - To prove some tailor did not get you? - The de'il a thing have you e'er done - To prove yourself the Thund'rer's son: - Nought but a cross-legg'd cabbage-eater - Could ever get so poor a creature. - My dad in broils would never flinch: - We know Jove got him ev'ry inch. - He once destroy'd this mighty town, - Like Vernon, with six ships alone; - And these strong walls that look so taking, - Are built on rubbish of his making. - But who are you, good Mr. Nokes, - That gape as if you'd swallow folks, - And, whilst thy raggamuffins tumble, - Dare not so much as seem to grumble? - No longer shalt thou stinking stand, - But feel the weight of my right hand. - - Whilst thus he like a blackguard spoke, - Silence the Lycian gently broke: - Your dad, you saucy whelp, 'tis true, - Was worth three dozen such as you. - These walls he justly tumbled down, - Because that rogue Laomedon - Had promis'd him a string of horses, - Instead of which he gave him curses; - Like an old scoundrel vilely us'd him, - And, just as you do me, abus'd him: - You should have been my noisy spark, - A cobler, or a parish-clerk. - My name, your family may spread it; - In drubbing you there's little credit: - But yet, although it hurts my pride, - I'll condescend to trim your hide. - - Just at that instant, both on high - Their broomsticks rais'd, and both let fly: - Well aim'd were both: Sarpedon's hit, - And his thick brawny neck did split; - Made near his throat a hole so big, - It bled as if you'd stuck a pig; - Nor did the other broomstick fly - In vain, it bruis'd Sarpedon's thigh; - And had not Jupiter, to save him, - Swore that the devil should not have him - That bout, I'll venture to be shot - If then he had not gone to pot: - But in a hurry, from the fray, - His comrades bore him far away, - Though, as they lugg'd him through the throng, - They let him drag the stick along; - Whether through haste or fear 'twas done, - Remains a secret yet unknown. - Tlepolemus, who came to scoff, - His friends the Grecians lugg'd him off. - - Then sly Ulysses angry grew: - Shall I, says he, Jove's son pursue; - Or shall I smash this Lycian crew? - Great Jove and fate forbade the first, - But gave him leave to do his worst - Amongst the raggamuffins, who - Soon found he was but word and blow; - For Cromeus he, and bold Alaster, - Knock'd with his broomstick down much faster - Than boys tip nine-pins; Halius, too, - He in his wrath beat black and blue; - Prytenis' shoulders next he rubb'd, - And then the brave Alcander drubb'd; - Noemen last of all fell down; - And more had been demolish'd soon, - But Hector saw, and ran so fast, - He tumbled o'er his head for haste; - So eagerly his fury bore him, - He drove them all like sheep before him. - - Sarpedon, glad to find him near him, - Egg'd that a word or two he'd hear him: - Don't suffer any Grecian varlet - To steal my best new coat of scarlet; - Pray do not let the rogues so serve me, - But from the plund'ring dogs preserve me. - If here I should depart this life, - And no more see my loving wife, - Yet in our village let me lie, - My death will make th' whole parish cry. - With real grief they'll wring their hand, - As England did for Cumberland. - - Hector for answer nothing spoke: - But rush'd among the Greeks like smoke: - His weapon in their blood he steeps, - And drives the scoundrels upon heaps. - Sarpedon now, behind a stack - Of hay, was laid upon his back. - Lieutenant Polagon was nigh, - Who pluck'd the broomstick from his thigh. - The soul was flying once away, - But thought 'twas better much to stay: - For honest Boreas, in a breeze, - Whipp'd up his nose and gave him ease. - - The Greeks drew back afraid of Mars, - Yet not one Greek would show his a----e: - No soldier would expose his back, - Though Hector sev'ral sculls did crack. - When young, I've heard my granny say. - That ev'ry dog must have his day; - And now 'twas Hector's turn to gall 'em, - And with a vengeance did he maul 'em. - Mars help'd to cut the matter short, - And knock'd the rascals down for sport. - First Teuthras fell, who made good cider; - Orestes next, a fam'd rough-rider. - Then Trechus, with the rest, was humbled, - And Oenomaüs headlong tumbled. - Oresbius, though he wore a mitre, - Was fool enough to turn a fighter - (But, be it spoken to their praise, - The priests are wiser now-a-days). - If now-a-days a priest you find - In broils, some wench is in the wind: - Much better care our parsons take - Than ever fight for fighting sake. - In Yorkshire his preferments lay; - The farmers rich that heard him pray. - Had he been reading th' ev'ning lecture, - He'd never been dispatch'd by Hector; - But, since he would this trade pursue, - E'en as he bak'd well let him brew. - - Juno, a scold past heaven's' matching, - For ever spent her time in watching; - Spies what confounded work was made. - And thus address'd the fighting jade: - Shall all we've done be thus abolish'd, - And Greece by yon' vile rogues demolish'd? - You and myself have pass'd our word - (Which they must think not worth a t--d), - That Troy's old walls shall very soon - Be by the Grecians tumbled down. - Pray how can this be brought about, - If gods for Troy thus fight it out? - That loggerheaded Mars I spy: - What think you now if we should try - To make the scurvy rascal run? - No sooner was it said than done. - They call'd a coach, when out of hand - A coach was brought at their command. - Hebe, before they mount the car, - The axle greas'd with oil and tar. - This she perform'd at their desire, - Lest they should set the coach on fire; - For, as they were in devilish haste, - They knew they should drive hellish fast, - On time I should too much encroach, - To tell the beauties of this coach: - Let it suffice to say, the maker - Exceeded any in Long-Acre; - A better coach was never seen - Excepting one:--God save the queen! - Juno turns ostler in her fury, - And joins the horses in a hurry. - Pallas then quickly doffs her clothes, - Which on the chamber floor she throws; - As modern sluts, worse taught than fed, - Do nightly when they go to bed. - To make her look more like a Broughton, - She whipp'd her father's old buff coat on; - Then ty'd about his great black targe - A band of eels, some small some large, - To lead mankind into mistakes, - And make 'em think her eels were snakes. - Then in the centre did she place - A most confounded ugly face; - But neither Heidegger's nor Nash's, - For theirs were red, this pale as ashes. - Jove's skull-cap, so bedeck'd with feather, - Twelve judges' wigs put all together, - Compar'd to it, would sure enough - Seem but a mod'rate barber's puff, - She put upon her busy nob; - And, that she might complete the job, - In her right hand she pois'd a stick, - Long as the may-pole and as thick. - The whip-thong cracks, away they go - Across the clouds je-up je-o. - The Hours took each their turn to wait, - And shut or ope the turnpike-gate; - But such a noise made these two elves - The gates flew open of themselves. - Upwards the foaming steeds they stretch, - And soon the mount Olympus reach, - Where Jove, t' enjoy the breezes cool, - Was set upon a three-legg'd stool. - Juno now pulls, and swears, and curses, - But yet could hardly stop the horses; - Then, as she always us'd to do, - Falls at him like a vixen shrew: - - To see that Mars rebel, I wonder - You can't find bus'ness for your thunder: - But here you sit and crack your jokes, - To see him smash such heaps of folks. - Look down but where yon' Greeks are laid, - You'll see what work the dog has made. - E'en Venus and Apollo, you know, - Are making faces now at Juno. - But as to that thick-headed hang-dog, - Venus's bully-back and bang-dog, - That Mars, who makes such woeful rout, - And kicks the Grecians so about, - Only give Pallas leave to douse him, - And ravish me if she don't souse him, - Teach him forbidden ground to roam, - And make him glad to scamper home! - - Jove answers (pleas'd so soon to part) - Go drub his hide with all my heart; - Pallas the best can tell you how, - The wench has pelted him ere now. - - Their car they mounted in a trice, - Nor staid they to be bidden twice. - Down the new turnpike road they trot, - As swift as balls from cannon shot; - Though part o' th' turnpike was so steeps - The horses did not trot, but leap, - And at each single bound they took - They leap'd as far as you can look. - On earth they fix their nimble feet - Where Simois and Scamander meet. - When Juno made a sort of dew, - From which ambrosial clover grew; - For heav'nly high-bred steeds, alas - Would snuff their nose at common grass; - For common grass had one great fault, - 'Twas fresh, and Juno's grass was salt. - Then through the air they trudg'd on foot, - And quickly found that station out - Where Hector with his wooden sabre - Did all the Grecian bones belabour. - A heap of ill-look'd fellows stood - Round Diomede, all daub'd with blood: - Whether like lions in your eye, - Or bears, they seem'd, don't signify. - Juno was always pretty loud, - But most when got into a crowd; - And, though she had the best of tongues, - She borrow'd Peter Stentor's lungs. - This Stentor was a common crier, - And could, or Mrs. Fame's a liar, - With downright bawling make more din - Than any fifty common men. - - O scoundrel Greeks! a coward race! - In whom of man no mark we trace, - Except a damn'd red nose and face! - When great Achilles led ye all, - The Trojans fought behind their wall; - But now they kick you where they please, - And soon will kick you o'er the seas. - - As pepper warms your water-gruel, - This added to their rage fresh fuel. - - In the mean time upon the ground - Was Diomede by Pallas found; - Of a bad thing he made the best, - And by himself his scratch he drest, - Wash'd all the dust and sweat clean out, - And wrapp'd it in a greasy clout; - Though nought he said, it gave such pain - As made him grin and sweat again. - - Whilst thus the loon his scratch was cleaning, - Pallas was on his cart-tail leaning; - When thus the jade began the farce: - Thou Tydeus' bastard! thou mine a----! - Thy father, though his limbs were short all, - Was a bold-hearted fighting mortal, - Us'd to drive forward like a devil; - Myself could hardly make him civil. - To Thebes I sent the hungry thief, - And there he ate up all their beef; - Without companion did he venture - At dinner-time their town to enter; - Drank for his own share half a barrel - Of ale, and then began to quarrel; - Abus'd 'em all for sons of whores, - And kick'd the scoundrels out of doors. - Thee too I've taken greater care of - Than yet perhaps thou art aware of; - But am afraid the goddess Fear, - Has drove my fighting champion here. - - Madam, says he, I always knew - My obligations great to you; - But I must tell you, you disgrace me; - Fear dares as well be damn'd as face me. - I think you said there would be odds - Against me, if I fought with gods: - I might, you thought, on Venus venture; - I did, but far I could not enter, - Though 'faith a willing stroke I lent her; - But in her hand, if I must tell ye, - She caught my tool, and say'd her belly: - And now 'tis only to obey - Your orders, that I keep away: - For Mars you'll see, if you'll but look, - Kicking the Greeks about like smoke. - - Pallas replies, Do you but mind - My good advice, and you shall find - This blust ring whelp, with all his crew - Of bullying scrubs, sha'nt conquer you; - But with your broomstaff, when you meet him, - Across the scoundrel's gizzard greet him: - A turncoat rogue, that ne'er abides - Three days before he changes sides, - And, without either rhyme or reason, - Helps people, in or out of season! - - This said, she in an instant knocks - The harmless driver off his box, - Who star'd and gap'd to think that he, - Had lost his place so suddenly; - Not that he car'd a sixpence for't, - But thought the warning mighty short: - Then mounting up with nimble feet, - Clapp'd her hard bum upon his seat; - But with her heavy buttocks she - Had like to've broke the axle-tree. - Howe'er, to that she gave small heed, - But drove her nags at Mars full speed: - Though, lest her nob should get a rap, - She slipp'd on Pluto's wishing-cap: - This cap, whene'er a head was in it, - Became invisible that minute. - Just then had Mars, his strength to try, - Knock'd down a trooper six feet high; - His name, if I mistake not, was - Or Periphus, or Periphas. - The bully left him where he fell, - And flew at Diomede pell-mell. - Though he look'd grim as grim may be, - The Grecian look'd as grim as he. - Now Mars, because a god, you know, - Expected he should have th' first blow; - So threw his staff; but Pall, did guide - The steeds so well, it flew quite wide. - Then Diomede let fly his stick, - Which gave the bully's guts a prick; - For instantly the hang-dog felt - The point come through his greasy belt. - The Greek and Trojan hosts together - Couldn't make such noise as this bell-wether - Roaring: he in a stinking mist - Scamper'd away to heav'n bepist; - Where at Jove's feet this bullying hulks - Sat almost half an hour i' th' sulks, - Then sobb'd as if his heart would break, - And blubb'ring made a shift to speak: - - I always thought that your commission - Was given you upon condition - That you took care to keep folks quiet, - And rather quell than raise a riot; - But you so far your orders slight, - With gods you let yon' rascals fight; - For let me tell you, Mr. Justice, - I'll take my oath that all this dust is - Of your own raising: if your daughter - Had had some better manners taught her, - And her hard bum well jerk'd with rods, - She'd never thus play'd tricks with gods. - Instead of this, you overlook her, - And hap will swear that I mistook her. - 'Tis plain,--so partial you are grown, - The jade's a bastard of your own; - She now has got a Grecian cully, - One Diomede, a thick-skull'd bully, - And him this wheedling cunning puss. - Has hearten'd up to fight with us. - At Venus first he made a stand, - And whipp'd his tool into her hand. - Me next the whore's-bird drove away, - So thump'd and bruis'd I durst not stay, - Lest, if I dropp'd into a swoon, - These wicked whelps should keep me down, - And, treading on my back and belly, - Work all my ribs and guts to jelly. - - Jove, vex'd to th' heart before he spoke, - Thus answer'd, with an angry look: - Has bully Mars forgot his ranting, - And ta'en up Whitfield's trade of canting? - Dost thou, on whom stern mischief waits, - Complain of blows and broken pates; - And 'cause so often thou hast got free, - Expect for ever to come scot-free? - Thou bullying rogue, of all our crew - I hate thee most, by God I do! - From morn to night thou'rt never quiet, - Unless when kicking up a riot; - I do not know of such another - In all the world, except thy mother; - And was her sex but chang'd to ours, - She'd kick the devil out of doors: - But since she says thou art my son, - I'll try for once what can be done; - Else would I set thee in the stocks, - Or chain thy guts to burning rocks; - Make thee with wicked Titans roar, - A thousand thousand years and more: - Then pointing to his man, cries, Stir, John, - And ply your heels to fetch a surgeon. - Peon soon came. Says he, My cully, - Pray do your best to cure this bully. - A plague upon his broils and rapes, - They always bring him into scrapes. - - The surgeon, though it hardly bled, - Look'd mighty grave, and shook his head, - But fearing it would close of course, - Before he'd time to make it worse, - Whips out his block-tin box, and, faster - Than cits eat custard, spread a plaster, - With which, in less than half an hour, - He made a safe and perfect cure; - But then observe that flesh of gods - Heals quicker far than ours by odds. - Next, by the help of wooden squirt - His hands and face he cleans'd from dirt; - Then set him on a cushion down, - Where Hebe brought a Scotch-plaid gown, - Which having girt with leathern strap, - He next put on a large fur cap. - Thus dress'd, or in my word no trust is, - The god of battle look'd the justice. - And why he may'nt, when battles cease, - Be made a justice of the peace, - I cannot see----On recollection, - His want of brains is no objection; - No other qualities they need, - But just to write their names and read: - The trade is learnt in half an hour, - To spare the rich and flog the poor. - - Juno and Pallas, having done - The bus'ness they came down upon, - And bully Mars from battle driven, - Mount up to drink their tea in heaven. - - - - [1] Menelaus. - - [2] The author could not help letting Mars talk in a soldier-like style. - - - - - THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - When all the gods to heav'n are gone. - The Grecians make the Trojans run, - Which, by the by, is demonstration - The devil help'd the Grecian nation; - For when no heav'nly guests are there, - He plays the devil without fear. - Helenus sets his brains a-brewing, - How to prevent the Trojans' ruin; - Then orders Hector to the town, - To bid 'em pray to Pallas soon, - That she'd remove such fighting cattle - As this Tydides from the battle. - In the mean time, by hocus pocus, - This bully Diomede and Glaucus - Found that of both the great grandfather - Had drank some pots of ale together; - So made a friendship, and, to tack it, - Exchang'd each other's buff-skin jacket. - Hector then gets the bus'ness done - The conjuror had sent him on, - Makes Paris fetch his broomshaft down, - And join him at the end o' th' town; - Bestows, ere he renews the strife, - Some crumbs of comfort on his wife. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK VI. - - - - The squabbling gods the fight forsake. - And leave mankind to brew and bake - Just as they please; then broomsticks flew, - And smoking hot the squabble grew, - Which made Scamander's little flood - Get quickly trampled into mud: - In Simois, our bard supposes, - They came to wash their bloody noses, - By which 'tis clearly understood, - They fought to th' knees in blood and mud. - - Great Ajax first came blust'ring on, - And mischief presently begun. - One Acamas the bully found, - And fell'd him flat, upon the ground; - His broomstick lent him such a rap, - As broke his pate and bruis'd his cap. - - Axylus next, an honest soul, - Got a great knock o' th' jobbernoul: - At home he always kept good cheer, - And made folks welcome far and near - Close by the road his house did lie, - Where men and horses passing by - Might get a drink, if they were dry: - Just at the side of Croydon Common, - He kept the sign o' th' Silent Woman - (A silent woman, Sir, you said! - Pray, was she drawn without a head? - Yes, Sir, she was: you never read on - A silent woman with a head on). - It happ'd that neither guest nor stranger - Came by to warn him of his danger; - But as he gap'd, expecting soon - Some tradesmen, customers from town, - Tydides came and knock'd him down. - Then, at another stroke, this rapster - Settled Calisius, his tapster. - Euryalus kick'd Dresus down, - And next he crack'd Opheltius' crown; - Not so content, with pairs begins, - And smash'd two young and tender twins, - Sons of Bucolion, who had made - A mistress of a hard-bum'd jade, - Whom in his woods one morn he found - Picking dry sticks from off the ground. - As on their backs the younkers lay, - His rogueship stole their coats away. - Just after that, one Polypætes - Dispatch'd Astyalus to greet his - Old friends in hell. Ulysses next, - Because the rogues his soul had vex'd, - Murder'd Pydites: then comes Teucer, - And made poor Aretaon spew, Sir; - When, in a rage, ran Nestor's lad, - Chatt'ring just like his queer old dad; - I'll make these Trojan rascals fear us, - And straight demolish'd brave Ablerus; - Which when great Agamemnon saw, - He gave Elatus such a blow, - As fell'd him down upon his crupper, - And spoil'd the luckless Trojan's supper. - Such a damn'd knock the Grecian gave him, - That all his money could not save him. - Eurypylus Melanthius slew, - And Phylacus from Leitus flew, - But could not 'scape him any how. - Adrastus, by ill luck, came bump - Upon a cursed crab-tree stump; - It smash'd his wheels, both nave and spoke, - And all the cart to pieces broke. - The horses flew where none could find 'em, - And left their luckless load behind 'em, - As he lay kicking on the sands, - The cuckold o'er him threat'ning stands, - Pilgarlick lifts his hands on high, - And begs for life most lustily: - - May't please your honour let me live, - A good round sum my dad will give: - When he for my great loss has wept, - And finds I'm but in limbo kept, - Depend he then will give, for ransom, - A purse with something very handsome. - - He spoke: the honest cuckold's pity - Was touch'd by this half mournful ditty; - But Agamemnon, in a fury, - Just like an English thick-scull'd jury, - Destroy'd all pity in a hurry. - - Quoth he, Th' old boy shall double damn me, - Before I'll let a Trojan flam me! - Christians give scoundrels good for evil; - But let us smoke 'em to the devil. - I live in hopes that Troy will fall, - Their whores, and rogues, and brats, and all, - That other whoring whelps, discerning - Their wicked exit, may take warning, - Nor rove about from street to street, - To cuckold every man they meet. - - This speech he made with dreadful ire, - And set the cuckold's blood on fire, - Who swore he would not grant the boon; - So Agamemnon knock'd him down, - And, spite of all the Trojan's tears, - Batter'd his brains about his ears. - - Nestor, who saw this bus'ness done, - Like an old harden'd rogue look'd on; - Then cries, My lads, in this tough job, - Don't stay to pick a single fob, - But, after we have work'd their buff, - We then shall all have chink enough. - - Now Greece had surely got the day, - And Troy as surely run away, - But wisely Helenus prepares - To mend their bitter bad affairs, - And bring 'em (since they durst not stand) - Out of this scrape by slight-of-hand. - - When thus to Hector and Æneas - He tells his mind: Old friends, you see us - Sorely put to't; but yet 'tis true, - The gods have left it all to you - To bring us off; for, at this pinch, - The de'il a god will stir an inch, - But now look on in expectation - That you yourself, on this occasion, - Will try your utmost strength and cunning, - To stop your ragged rogues from running. - When you have cheer'd each heartless tup, - Leave it to us to keep it up. - Mean time, you Hector, go, I pray, - To our old mother Hecuba; - Tell her, she must forthwith employ - The oldest maids we have in Troy, - And bid 'em cease their lies and malice, - To go and pray to Madam Pallas, - Who is by fits as cross a jade - As any wrinkled mortal maid; - Then bid them lay upon her knee - The richest satin negligee - My mother has in all her store: - If finely daub'd with tinsel o'er, - 'Twill stand the better chance to please her, - And may, by great good luck, appease her. - Then let 'em add, if more she choose, - We'll send a dozen maiden cows. - These things, unless the devil's in her, - I'm pretty sure can't fail to win her - To spare our hen-peck'd cuckolds' lives, - With all our brawling brats and wives, - Nor longer suffer Diomede - To make the Trojans' noses bleed. - Such thumps he lends our soldiers, that - To him Achilles seems a sprat. - This speech bold Hector heard, and plump - From off his cart he took a jump; - Ran where he found the varlets slack, - And cheer'd them with a clap o' th' back. - To such a pitch does he restore 'em, - They drive the Grecian bloods before 'em. - Two staves he brandish'd in the air, - So thick they made the Grecians stare, - Who thought the Trojans, to resist 'em, - Had hir'd some goblin to assist 'em. - - Then Hector spoke as loud as thunder: - Hear! all ye roaring sons of plunder, - Ye Dardans of the nearer stations, - And those who come from distant nations, - Think on your valiant fathers' tasks! - 'Tis all, in troth, that Hector asks. - Whilst I a little bus'ness do - In Troy, the squabble rests on you. - I go to bid our grandames all, - And old maids, on their kneppers fall: - The pray'rs they mumble will, no doubt, - Help us to thrash the Greeks this bout. - - He said no more, but took a stride, - Miss P----s-us' hoop's not half so wide; - Then threw his potlid o'er his back, - And to the Trojan gates did pack. - This mighty orb of brass and steel - Reach'd from his neck well nigh his heel, - Which kicking as he walk'd along, - Like an old postman's bell it rung. - Now, Hector gone, both sides think fit - To take their wind a little bit; - When Glaucus, and that Grecian spark, - Tydides, did each other mark. - Both in one mind, they bounce and kick, - And each man flourishes his stick; - When Diom., though no talking man, - Was first to speak, and thus began: - - Your face I ne'er before did see, - Pray, who the devil can you be, - Who dares to beard that Diomede, - That makes so many noses bleed? - Those that meet me make small resistance, - When Pallas lends me her assistance, - And that she will do all this week: - If therefore you're a god, pray speak; - For, if you are, my staff can't fright you, - But smite my liver if I'll fight you! - I've had my share enough of evils, - And box no more with gods and devils; - For, happen as it may, i' th' end on't, - They'll sit upon your skirts, depend on't. - You know Lycurgus did not fear 'em, - But, to his cost, he came too near 'em. - He scar'd the god of wine for fun, - And made his drunken messmates run. - Their spears, with vines and ivy bound, - Lay scatter'd all along the ground; - And Bacchus too, to hide his head, - Crept to his cousin Thetis' bed. - But soon their angry godships sent - The devil of a punishment: - For, whilst he slept, they, by surprise, - Ran needles into both his eyes; - Then drove him through the world so wide - To beg his bread without a guide, - Nor would allow th' unlucky king - A dog to lead him in a string: - By which he got so badly serv'd, - In less than half a year he starv'd. - I fight no gods; but, if a man - Thou art, I'll drub thee if I can. - Some devil, sure, has made thee judge ill, - To come so near my fatal cudgel. - - Glaucus replies: Great Sir, since you - From whence I came desire to know, - Attend, I'll tell a tale so rare, - Were you stone blind 'twould make you stare. - You know the gang of nine-pins, soon - As the bowl hits, come tumbling down; - Then are set up, when that throw's o'er, - To tumble as they did before. - Just so a race that's always grumbling, - The race of mortal rogues, keeps tumbling. - This d'ye see's by way of text, - And, if your patience won't be vext, - My pedigree is coming next. - Listen, and, if your ears don't fail, - You'll hear an oddish kind of tale; - But ev'ry syllable is true, - Or slam me if I'd tell it you! - Near Argos, fam'd for roguish coopers, - And breeding horses fit for troopers, - A city stands upon that coast - Where Sysiphus once rul'd the roast, - Glaucus, this Sisyphus's son, - Was father of Bellerophon, - Who was, to tell the real truth, - A very comely, hopeful youth. - Because he topp'd all other fellows - In beauty, Prestus would be jealous; - And, being but a sort of Turk, - He kept this younker hard at work. - 'Tis true Antea, or I miss her, - Wanted Bellerophon to kiss her: - Nay more, she plainly told him so; - But he, like Joseph, answered, No! - For which our beaux all think he was - An animal they call an ass. - Howe'er, the hussey told her spouse, - He try'd to be about her house: - And, though he scorn'd to come so nigh it, - The brimstone swore he took her by it. - - No sooner was th' old fellow told - This youth attack'd his copyhold, - But he was bloody wroth, d'ye see, - As any honest man might be; - But, as the younker was his guest, - He judg'd it would be for the best - (To save the youth from being hurt - Within the liberties of court) - To send him to some foreign shore, - In hopes to hear of him no more. - What could the bubbled king do better - Than cheat him with Uriah's letter? - And thus, as if some good was meant him, - The jealous rogue to Lycia sent him, - To the old daddy of his wife, - In hopes he there would lose his life; - Not doubting but the whelp he'd slaughter - For off'ring to corrupt his daughter. - - Away then goes Bellerophon, - Unknowing what he went upon; - Enter'd the Lycian palace drest - In a full suit, his very best. - The good old monarch did bestir him, - And made nine days' bull-baitings for him; - But the tenth morning took him out, - And ask'd him what he came about? - On which he fumbled in his jacket, - And lugg'd him out the famous packet. - This quickly made the errand known - The harmless lad was sent upon. - The good old Lycian, with surprise, - First rubb'd, then read, then rubb'd his eyes; - But, finding matters were no better, - He e'en resolv'd t' obey the letter; - So sent him out to fight Chimera, - A mottled monster rough as bear-a. - Her bum was dragon, body goat, - A lion's neck, and head, and throat; - No living mortal durst come nigh her - She farted smoke, and belch'd up fire. - Bellerophon could read the sky, - When the stars happen'd to be nigh; - So cast a figure, as 'tis said, - Then quickly knock'd this beast o' th' head. - As he return'd, he next gave chase, - And kill'd the Solymæan race, - A pack of ranting roaring fellows, - As ever grac'd a three-legg'd gallows. - To them the Amazons succeed, - A strange hermaphroditish breed: - No mortal man these jades could match, - 'Cause they could scold, and bite, and scratch; - But, by the help of cod and oysters, - He quickly tam'd this crew of roysters: - Soon as they felt his strokes and thwacks, - The brims all fell upon their backs. - Though here his troubles did not cease, - Nor was he yet to live in peace. - Under a farmer's old pigsty - A dozen rogues conceal'd did lie; - But, when he got them in his clutches, - He qualify'd them all for crutches, - Left 'em so bruis'd upon the plain, - Not one could limp it home again. - - Zooks! said the king, I'll lay a groat, - There's more in this than first I thought: - This man can be no earth-born clod, - But bastard to some whoring god. - A fellow that can make such slaughter, - And would have trimm'd my other daughter, - Since he by some strange chance has mist her, - I think I'll let him trim her sister; - And, that the youth the girl may keep, - I'll take him into partnership. - My trade he'll learn, I do not fear, - In far less time than half a year; - 'Tis but to kick, and cuff, and swear. - I knew a good old monarch that, - When angry, only kick'd his hat: - Now, when I'm vex'd, both friends and foes - Have felt the force of my square toes. - Favours once got, they come none near you; - But kick 'em, and they always fear you: - And this I ever will maintain - The best and easiest way to reign. - - No sooner was it said than done, - He made him partner of his throne; - I mean the very morning after - He'd done his best to please his daughter: - For she, when ask'd of his behaviour, - Had spoken greatly in his favour; - And swore, like royal F----'s[1] wife, - She ne'er was thrum'd so in her life; - On which the Lycians gave him stone - And ground to build a house upon, - With a good orchard full of fruit, - And a brave field of wheat to boot. - - Long did he reign in peace and plenty, - Full nineteen years, though some say twenty. - Two sons he had, and eke one daughter, - So fair, she caus'd Jove's chaps to water, - Who made no words, but whipp'd upon her, - And got the brave Sarpedon on her. - At last attack'd by falling fits, - Which rather hurt his little wits, - Alone o'er hills and dales he ran, - And would not bear the sight of man. - Whilst thus he roam'd amongst the cattle, - His eldest son was slain in battle: - And Mrs. Phoebe, one dark night, - Shot his poor daughter out of spite; - Fearing next time Jove got upon her, - He hap might make a goddess on her. - Hippolachus was left, and he, - That same Hippolachus, got me: - By his direction here I swagger, - And value no man's sword or dagger. - I always choose the first to stand - In fight, as well as in command; - And always am the first to try - To storm a trench or mutton-pie: - My father's fame in future story - Shall fall far short of mine in glory. - - The Grecian, when he heard this tale, - Jump'd up as brisk as bottled ale; - Down went his broomshaft on the sands, - And taking Glaucus by the hands, - Whilst both his sweaty palms he press'd, - He cries, You are my ancient guest; - And therefore, as the matter stands, - Let us without deceit shake hands. - Your grandsire was my grand-dad's guest - For twenty days he did him feast - With mutton-chops, and tart, and custard, - And humming beer as strong as mustard: - Thy grandsire on the twentieth day - Was pleas'd to take himself away; - Because he guess'd he very nigh - Had drank th' old fellow's cellars dry: - But to his landlord first thought proper - To give a can hoop'd round with copper; - Who straight amidst his lumber felt, - And fumbled out an old sword-belt, - Which in return he then presented; - And thus their friendship was cemented. - Brimful of porter, when I'm able, - This can is fill'd for my own table, - 'Tis from this can I learnt this story, - Which I have laid so plain before you; - For my poor dad, though stout and strong, - Let slip his wind when I was young; - Nor had th' old Grecian time to spare, - To teach his lad a single prayer: - I shame to tell the truth, but all - The prayers that I can say, I stole. - But from this day let you and I - Assist each other by the by: - If ever I should travel more, - Flux me if I will pass your door! - And if my country you should see, - Pray come and take pot-luck with me. - Enough of Trojan pates there are - For me to break in this damn'd war; - And there will be, I'm sure, no lack - Of Grecian skulls for you to crack: - So let what will befall the rout, - Pray why should you and I fall out? - To show each host we scorn to bubble it; - Let me have yours, and here's my doublet. - - Though now-a-days so bold a push - Would make an honest Hebrew blush. - Yet this queer varlet Diomede - Did most amazingly succeed; - For his buff coat both greas'd and old - He got a new one lac'd with gold. - His mighty buff-skin coat of coats, - When new, had cost him just nine groats; - I think I speak the very most; - But Glaucus's a hundred cost; - Though his great princely soul was such, - He did not value twice as much. - - Whilst Diomede this chief was tricking, - Hector his brazen shield was kicking, - And strode along at such a rate, - He'd got within the Scæan Gate, - Under a tree o'ergrown with moss, - That serv'd 'em for a market-cross. - Close by the whipping-post and stocks. - Bold Hector met with sundry flocks - Of soldiers' wives, and many others, - Asking for husbands, sons, and brothers. - So bad, says he, with us it fares, - I'd have ye all go say your prayers. - With hasty strides away he tramp'd - To Priam's palace, newly vamp'd, - Near which was half a hundred boxes, - For fifty sons and fifty doxies; - And not far off a dozen houses - For Priam's daughters and their spouses, - All finish'd nicely to a charm, - And thatch'd with straw to keep 'em warm. - Whilst Hector thought that no one ey'd him, - The good old Hecuba espy'd him; - That pretty wench Laodice - Bore the old lady company. - Hip, hip! she cry'd, to make him stand; - Then came and shook him by the hand: - - What sudden call could bring my son - Before the scuffle is half done? - If 'tis the gripes, I have within - A stoop of special Holland's gin. - But if thou'rt hither come to pray - Our wooden gods to drive away - Those Grecian rogues, and clear our doors - From all such noisy sons of whores, - Stay till I fetch our pewter cup; - You know their godships like a sup: - The priests won't tell the reason why; - But 'tis, I think, 'twixt you and I, - Because their rotten wood's so dry. - After you've fill'd their bellies full, - Then take yourself a hearty pull: - Our Trojan stingo has the merit - To cheer the heart, and raise the spirit. - - Hector replies; Pray keep your beer, - It only serves to make folks swear: - To men it mischief brings, so spare it, - But give it gods, their heads will bear it; - Or, if they should get tipsy, they - Have nought to do but snore all day. - But let some else perform that task, - I am not fit a boon to ask: - Whate'er I touch will have no luck, - You see my hands all blood and muck. - But you, old souls, without delay, - Must to that brim Minerva pray: - And mind you spread upon her knee - The richest satin negligee - That you have got in all your store; - If finely daub'd with tinsel o'er, - 'Twill stand the better chance to please her, - And may by great good luck appease her. - When she has listen'd to your vows, - We'll add a dozen virgin cows. - If she don't like so good a dinner, - As many devils must be in her, - As, we are told by parson Diggs, - Once popp'd into a drove of pigs. - But mind you bargain in your prayer, - That she'll our Trojan cuckolds spare, - Nor longer suffer Diomede - To make their pates and noses bleed. - This task I leave to you, good mother, - Whilst I go rouse my hopeful brother, - And try if, deaf to honour's name, - The whoring rogue has lost all shame. - I wish the whelp was under ground, - So deep he never could be found; - Myself would, if it was not treason, - Hang up a dog so lost to reason. - This war, that threats us all with ruin, - Is mischief of that rascal's brewing: - We never had this mischief felt, - Had he ten years ago been gelt. - - He spoke: his mother summon'd all - The good old women, short and tall. - Away they to the wardrobe go, - Which, open'd, made a tearing show, - To find the very things they sought, - That Paris from Sidonia brought; - For Paris chose to touch at Sidon, - To get some shoes and stockings try'd on - For his dear Nelly, who had scarce - An undam'd smicket to her a-- - When first they stole away from Greece; - But that's no matter, such a piece - A man of any soul might brag on, - Although her bum had ne'er a rag on. - Old Hec.[2] her spectacles lugg'd out, - To help her eyes to peep about, - And, looking sharp, she quickly sees - Above a dozen negligees - Hung up on pegs; so pitch'd on one - That had a deal of tinsel on. - Then foll'wing old Antenor's spouse, - They reach'd the door o' th' meeting-house. - Theano carried in her pocket - The only key that would unlock it, - Which out she lugg'd, and with a bang - Made the old rusty lock cry twang. - - When they were all got in together, - They roar'd like pigs in windy weather: - The priestess spread the gown, and then - Pray'd loud; th' old women bawl'd Amen! - - [Illustration: Book VI, page 338. - When they were all got in together, - They roar'd like pigs in windy weather. - The priestess spread the gown, and then - Pray'd loud; th' old women bawl'd Amen.] - - Once Troy's defence, O goddess stout! - Only with patience hear us out: - Let us this rogue Tydides humble, - And make him either run or tumble. - If this, O Pallas! you'll but do, - Twelve rare fat heifers we'll bestow - Upon you, if you hear our prayer, - And all our Trojan cuckolds spare. - - Thus the old women pray and vow, - And make a noise; but 'twould not do. - Whilst they say prayers not worth a louse, - Hector had travel'd to the house - Where Paris dwelt along with Helen-- - A very pretty little dwelling, - That join'd his father and his brother-- - So they were neighbours to each other: - This little mansion Paris' self - Contriv'd, both window, door, and shelf. - The Trojan chief had got a strong - Oak sapling, eight or ten feet long, - Hung with brass rings to make it rattle, - And scare the enemy in battle: - He knock'd, and scrap'd his shoes from dirt; - Then ent'ring, found him in his shirt - He'd stripp'd himself, the better to - Polish his skull-cap and his bow. - In this condition Hector found him, - With twenty broomsticks scatter'd round him. - Helen was standing by his knee, - Scolding her maids for drinking tea; - For though for breakfast she ne'er grudg'd it, - Yet in the afternoon they fudg'd it. - - - [Illustration: Book VI, page 340. - - - He knock'd a dozen times or more, - Then bump'd his rump against the door - 'Twas bolted with a wooden pin, - Which broke, and down he tumbled in.] - - - When Hector saw him in this pickle, - No wonder he began to stickle, - And thus began: By this good light! - You've nick'd the time to show your spite - Against poor Troy. Dost thou conspire - With Greece to set our barns on fire? - For thee our bloods all fight and tumble, - And kick and cuff, yet never grumble; - Till nothing's left to guard the gates, - But heaps of bruis'd and broken pates. - You whoring rascal, come along, - And bear a bob amidst the throng; - Why can't you run the risk of scars - In Mars' as well as Venus' wars, - Ere flames attack our huts and tow'rs, - And burn your dogship out of doors? - - Paris, who was a gentle youth, - Says, Brother, this is all God's truth: - Yet don't mistake me, mighty Sir; - Nor on my honour cast a slur. - I'm sorry you're so hard put to't, - And think I dare not box it out: - But say no more, no more let's prattle, - Helen commands me out to battle. - Who knows but Menelaus may, - On this, or hap some other day, - Get, though he makes such fuss and stir, - A Rowland for his Oliver? - One thing I'll promise, the next bout - I'll boldly try if I can do't. - But whilst I don my coat and cap, - Do you sit still or take a nap; - But if you go, you may be sure - I'll follow you in half an hour. - - Nelly, who had, you need not doubt her, - Like other wives, her wits about her, - To hinder Hector from replying - Began a sudden fit of crying. - Hector, who thought his stick had hit her, - Or else that Pug or Shock had bit her, - Whipp'd round about to ask the matter, - When thus the jade began to chatter: - Now let me tell you, brother Hector, - No living mortal can conjecture - The grief I suffer, 'cause I hide it, - But I no longer will abide it; - There's nothing else, I find, but speaking, - Can keep a woman's heart from breaking: - I wish they'd in a horse-pond duck'd me, - To cool my courage, ere they tuck'd me - Up in the bed where Paris ---- ----! - I wish, before this cursed strife, - By the small-pox I'd lost my life, - Or that my nose was full of pimples - As that old canting rogue D---l---'s: - I wish to God we'd both been drown'd - When first we cross'd the herring-pond! - But I may wish and make a pother, - Wish in one hand, and spit in t'other. - My cursed luck I e'er shall rue, - But most since Paris first I knew. - Women the worst will always choose, - Else I had got a better spouse; - I only mean a better fighter, - A buck that might have cudgell'd tighter - For other work, there's not a man - Can do a third that Paris can: - I scorn to speak but what is true; - The devil ought to have his due. - But sit you down, and rest a while, - You've had a mortal deal of toil, - Enough to make a man quite mad, - For me and my faint-hearted lad. - It can't be help'd, I know my doom, - And judge by past of what's to come. - Our woes will gain us future pity, - And fill some lamentable ditty, - Which hard-mouth'd raggamuffins will, - From Charing-Cross to Ludgate-Hill, - Roar with a voice as sweet and clear, - As Tyburn dying-speeches are. - - Hector replies: Another day - I'll chat awhile, but now can't stay, - Because our men are sore put to't, - And want my fist to help 'em out: - But I must beg you'll not be slack - To stroke your swain upon his back; - No wench can do unless she tries, - Your hand may make his--courage rise: - When that is done, dispatch him soon, - But do not take that courage down, - Nor stay him with your coaxing prate, - But let him meet me at the gate. - I go to see my son and wife, - The joy and comfort of my life: - For who can tell if Hector may - Have luck to box another day? - Some witch, that chooses to annoy him, - May guide a broomstaff to destroy him. - - He said no more, but turn'd about - To go and find his helpmate out. - When he came home she was not there, - Nor could he find her far or near. - She and her son, and maid, and all, - Were got upon an orchard-wall; - There saw the rabble bruise and cut, - Until it almost grip'd her gut: - Still she kept looking sharp about - To find her good-man Hector out, - Whilst he through twenty alleys stumbled - And all the while his gizzard grumbled; - Then sought the postern, with intent - To ask the guard which way she went. - Halloo, my lads, did any see - My loving wife Andromache? - Or did she land at Temple-stairs, - To join th' old women in their prayers? - Or, all this time that I have miss'd her, - Think you she's gone to see her sister? - - She's not at church, replies the sentry, - Clubbing her prayers with these old gentry - Nor is she gone to Priam's hall, - But stands, d'ye see, on yonder wall. - She heard how fast the Trojans ran, - And sweated for her own good-man. - I help'd her o'er this stile to get, - And felt her hands; they both were wet - As muck, and in a clammy sweat: - Her haste was such, that, I can say, - She trotted ev'ry inch o' th' way: - I'll answer for't, before she got - To th' wall, her bum was smoking hot: - And then, as fast as she could waddle, - The nurse did with the bantling straddle. - - To this bold Hector did not say - A single word, but walk'd away, - Not caring to lose time in prate, - And met his wife at Cripplegate. - His wife was always understood - To be what moderns call good blood; - Her mother had been lady mayoress, - And she herself a vast rich heiress. - Soon as she did her husband spy, - She gave a spring a quarter high; - The nurse then follow'd with the lad, - That scratch'd, and roar'd, and kick'd, like mad. - Great Hector often had been trying - To cure the cross-grain'd brat from crying; - But could not do't--so call'd his name - Scamandrius, from a running stream: - But thinking that queer name would gall him, - Astyanax the Trojans call him. - Hector was in his heart right glad - To see the sprawling scrambling lad; - But with a very doleful look - His partner seiz'd his fist and spoke, - Whilst you might see within her eye - The tears stood ready cock'd to cry: - - Why sure you cannot think, my life, - To leave your only son and wife? - How great, alas! must be my fall, - Should you get drubb'd for good and all! - I know, my duckling, though your laugh, - You're too courageous by half: - With single bullies you can pull, - But many dogs will beat a bull; - And ev'ry Grecian cur, I see, - Will strive to get a bite at thee. - If therefore my poor Hector must - Be drubb'd, and tumbled in the dust, - God send, before that woeful day, - That thy poor dearee safely may, - Rather than hear their gibes and scoffing, - Be nail'd up in a strong elm coffin! - Where is the man, if thou should'st fail, - Would buy thy wife a pot of ale? - I've neither father left nor mother; - Nor loving uncle, aunt, or brother. - At Thebes Achilles burnt us out, - And kill'd my fighting dad to boot: - But when he had the good man slain, - With pity he was overta'en, - Made a most mighty fuss and racket, - And burnt the body in its jacket; - Then rais'd a mountain o'er his bones, - Of mud and clay, and sand, and stones. - It happen'd where some fairies haunted, - And they the place with elm-trees planted. - At the same time seven loving brothers - This damn'd infernal rascal smothers; - Quite unawares the lads he snaps, - As they for mice were setting traps: - Then took my mother prisoner, - And sent her to the Lord knows where; - Though soon, because she was not handsome, - He let her go, but kept the ransom. - To her own house they'd hardly got her, - Before that brim, Diana, shot her: - But though I am of them bereft, - I'd snuff the moon if thou art left; - But if my bully-rock should fall, - They're lost again, not one, but all. - For sake of me and this brave boy, - Keep snug within the walls of Troy: - I'll tell thee where the whore's-birds make - Their strongest push the town to take; - Do but observe their ragged bands - All muster where yond' fig-tree stands; - There let thy trusty broomshaft fly, - And smite the scoundrels hip and thigh. - - Not that alone, the chief reply'd, - Shall be my care, there's more beside; - I've many sturdy jobs to do, - Which I shall buckle tightly to. - Should I hang back, you'd quickly see - The Trojans making game of me, - And madams, with their sweeping tails, - Seem much surpris'd what Hector ails. - Then, at the next tea-table lecture, - Cry, 'Bless us! what is come to Hector? - He us'd to maul these Grecian scrubs, - But now he's got the mullygrubs.' - When broils begin I never fail: - Fighting to me is cakes and ale. - At school I practis'd ev'ry day - Both quarter-staff and cudgel-play; - And I'll be first, you may depend, - Our beef and pudding to defend. - And yet that cursed day will come, - I know by th' pricking of my thumb, - When Troy shall tumble in a ruin - Of that damn'd brimstone Juno's brewing: - Though all my loving cousins dying - Won't set me half so soon a crying, - As what I inwardly foresee - Will happen to Andromache. - They'll make my rib a water-heaver, - Or put her 'prentice to a weaver; - And then, for fear so great a tumble - Should fail to make her gizzard grumble, - Some scoundrel Grecian, to deject her, - Will whisper, That's the wife of Hector; - As if they could not plague poor thee - Enough, without rememb'ring me. - But let them, if they plague thee long, - Once feel the rough side of thy tongue: - And if again they ever strive - To vex thee, I'll be flay'd alive! - All that I wish is, that I may - Be six foot under ground that day, - Where I shall neither, when I'm cold, - Hear my wife sigh, or cry, or scold. - - This said, the bully-back of Troy - Stretch'd out his arms to take the boy; - The lad hung back, and durst not touch - His brazen hat for e'er so much. - Pleas'd, he laid down his glitt'ring hat, - Which quieted the brawling brat; - Then lifts him high into the air, - And prays a special country prayer: - - O Jupiter! brimful of glory, - Who dwells in heaven's upper story, - Protect this lad, and grant that he - The wonder of the world may be; - And at the sport in which I prided - May break more heads than ever I did; - That when he lays his twenties flat, - And brings away the gold-lac'd hat, - The people all may say, This lad - At cudgel-playing beats his dad: - And when they shout and praise the boy. - The mam. bep---- herself for joy! - He spoke, and smiling look'd upon her, - Then laid the hopeful bantling on her. - She hugg'd him closely to her breast, - And sung him lullaby to rest: - Though fear possess'd her soul so strong, - She made a sort of crying song. - This Hector view'd with feeling eye, - (He hated much to see her cry) - And though he seem'd to look more grum for't, - He spoke these words to give her comfort: - - No man, unless it is his fate - To do't, can break thy Hector's pate; - And this be sure, no mortal man - Can live much longer than he can; - When raw-bon'd Death once takes the field, - He makes both mayors and sheriffs yield; - And in the devil's lock secures - Your reformation-rogues by scores, - For plaguing wretched helpless whores: - Then cease, my jewel, get you in - To knit, or darn, or stitch, or spin. - For me, it ever is my lot - To be where broken pates are got: - The man that's always first at eating, - Should be the first to risk a beating. - - This said, he takes his skullcap up, - With goose-quills shaded at the top: - Homeward his dearee ply'd her stumps, - And sat her down in doleful dumps; - Where, as she made her grievous moan, - The pigs return'd her grunt for groan, - And both the cook and chambermaid - Blubber'd as if their lord was dead. - - And now bold Paris sally'd out, - Prepar'd to take the other bout; - In a bright cap you see him tow'ring, - The same that Hector caught him scouring. - Thus when a Cheapside cockney's tit - From his long back has thrown the cit, - Well pleas'd to leave his leaden load, - He kicks and flings along the road, - Splashes foot people as he goes, - And daubs with mud their Sunday's clothes. - Just so brisk Paris skipp'd about. - Resolv'd to buckle tightly to't; - Then joining Hector's jobbernoul, - Away they trotted cheek-by-joul: - - When Paris first began to say, - Brother, you must excuse my stay, - I could not sooner get away. - I stay'd, if I the truth must tell ye, - To do a little job for Nelly, - Which hinder'd me 'bout half an hour: - It could not be a great deal more: - But the poor honest loving heart - With dry lips always hates to part; - I therefore think I'm bound in honour - To spend what I can spare upon her. - - Brother, says Hector, let what's past - Be quite forgot; you're come at last, - And that's enough. Thou art in blood - My brother, make that kinship good: - In broils let's second one another, - And then I'll own thee for a brother: - That you dare fight was never doubted, - Nor was your mettle e'er disputed; - But Troy makes such a cursed roaring - About your idleness and whoring, - That, did you hear each prating elf, - 'Twould make you almost hang yourself. - Some pains I'd therefore have you take; - They've box'd it stoutly for your sake: - 'Twould please me much to hear 'em telling - You sweat the Greeks as well as Helen, - And are prepar'd to storm a trench, - Or storm the quarters of a wench, - Just as it suits--Such men as these - Are sure all sorts of folks to please. - But cheer thee up; our toils shall cease - When Pitt's employ'd to make a peace: - Then Grecian rogues, with grief and shame, - Shall trundle back from whence they came. - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME, - - - [1] There is a story goes, that a lady of the first fashion, on her -wedding-night, got out of bed, and ran to her mother-in-law's room, -declaring she never was used so in her life; who answered, she hoped -not, but she must submit now to be used as she never was before. - - [2] Hecuba. - - - - - A - - BURLESQUE TRANSLATION - - OF - - HOMER - - IN TWO VOLUMES. - - <i>THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED.</i> - - VOL. II - - [Illustration] - - LONDON - - Printed for G.G. and J. Robinson, Paternoster-Row. - - 1797. - - - - <i>Dilucida et negligenter quoque audientibus aperta; ut in animum ratio - tanquam sol in oculos, etiamsi in eam non intendatur, occurrat. Quare, - non ut intelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere, - curandum.</i> - - QUINTIL. - - - If you would make a speech, or write one, - Or get some artist to indite one, - Don't think, because 'tis understood - By men of sense, 'tis therefore good; - But let your words so well be plann'd, - That blockheads can't misunderstand, - - - - - - THE SEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - When Hector got upon the plain, - They fell to loggerheads again; - Pallas, afraid Greece would not stand, - Prepar'd to lend a helping hand: - Apollo saw her tie her garters, - And straight resolv'd to watch her waters; - On which he popp'd his body down, - And met her pretty near the town. - After a spell of small-talk prattle, - They both agree to cease the battle - For the remainder of that day, - But farther Homer doth not say. - Then Hector came and puff'd his cheeks, - And sorely frighten'd all the Greeks, - Told 'em he'd box that afternoon - Their boldest cock, for half a crown. - Which scar'd 'em so confoundedly, - That every mother's son let fly; - Though nine at least their names put in, - After they'd wip'd their breeches clean. - Nestor, who knew at any rate - Nothing but Ajax' knotty pate - Could stand his blows, contriv'd it so - That he should draw the longest straw; - On which these thick-skull'd champions fight - Till parted by one Mrs. Night. - Next, in a council, Troy's old pack - Of statesmen vote to send Nell back; - But Paris by his bullying cool'd 'em, - Or else by brib'ry over-rul'd 'em; - Then d----d his eyes if he would spare - Of all her stock one single hair - From any place that was about her, - But he would give the Greeks without her - All the hard cash she brought to Dover, - And double it five or six times over. - Priam a bellman sent to offer - The Greeks this advantageous proffer, - And beg a truce, to look about - And see who'd got their brains knock'd out. - The Greeks, though they were every bit - As poor as our great patriot P----, - When he began at first to slaver, - And stun the house with his palaver, - Yet, for a truth depend on't, I know - They all refus'd the ready rhino; - But readily agreed, they say, - To cease all fratching for a day. - After both sides their arms had grounded, - And gather'd up their sick and wounded, - Old Nestor did their bricklayers call up, - And made 'em build a good strong wall up; - At which old Neptune fell a-grumbling, - Till Jove, to stop his guts from rumbling, - Promis'd the wall should soon come tumbling. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD - - BOOK VII. - - - - Thus spake this Trojan heart of oak, - And thunder'd through the gate like smoke; - His brother Paris follow'd close, - Resolv'd to give the Greeks a dose. - As when poor sailors, tir'd with towing, - And all their fingers gall'd with rowing, - Keep growling hard, but when they find - Jove sends a favourable wind, - No more each two-legg'd bruin swears, - But lends the coming breeze three cheers: - Thus welcome are these roaring boys, - Both to the Dardan troops and Troy's; - And they who scarce the field could keep, - Now drive the Grecians, on a heap. - - Paris, to help to wipe his stains out, - Soon knock'd Menestheus's brains out; - Areithous, a mousetrap-maker, - Seduc'd a very pretty quaker - To let him one unlucky night - Extinguish all her inward light, - And get this boy; but though he thrash'd hard, - The urchin proved a graceless bastard. - - Then with a most confounded whack - Eioneus tumbled on his back; - An inch below his cap of steel, - A thump from Hector made him feel; - Much stronger necks could not resist - Such blows from Hector's mutton fist: - Down tumbled he upon the plain, - But never found his legs again. - - Next in the individual locus, - Iphinous was chanc'd by Glaucus: - The broomshaft's point his shoulder tore up - Just as he set his foot i' th' stirrup; - Which chang'd the intended motion soon - From rising up to tumbling down. - - Minerva's guts began to grumble, - To see her fav'rite Grecians tumble: - To earth she in a hurry popp'd, - And after her Apollo dropp'd; - Both lit upon the self-same stone, - Like Flockton's puppets, Punch and Joan, - And, ere they did their talk begin, - Stood for a minute chin to chin. - - Madam, says Phoebus, I'm your humble - And most obedient cum dumble; - By Vulcan's horns I vow and swear, - I little thought to find you here! - I hope before you took this frolic - You felt no symptoms of your cholic. - I heard, dear Ma'am, with all the knowledge - And wisdom that you lent the College, - A recipe they could not make - To cure your lay'ship's belly-ache: - But had the great-wigg'd varlets thought on - The famous drops of Doctor Stoughton, - That would have done't: they eas'd my tripes - When all on snicksnarls with the gripes; - And you'll experience, if you try, - They cure the gripes both wet and dry. - I therefore for the belly-ache - No other medicine will take, - Not even Ward's tremendous pill, - Nor sage prepar'd by Doctor Hill. - But, Ma'am, may I, without transgression. - Presume to ask a single question? - Did not your ladyship whip down, - Slily to crack some Trojan's crown? - I know the only sight you've fun in - Is when you see the Trojans running; - But hold your fist a spell, and soon - Their huts and barns shall tumble down; - For who can stand against the whims - Of two such d----d revengeful brims? - - When thus replies the scratching bitch: - Split me, if you ar'n't grown a witch! - I came for mischief here, and would - Have pummel'd Hector if I could; - But after what you've said, I now - Would part 'em, if you'd tell me how; - But they keep such confounded clatt'ring, - Whilst blood, and guts, and brains they're scatt'ring. - That Stentor with his brazen lungs, - Or Fame with all her hundred tongues, - One word amongst 'em cannot wedge, - Though set with e'er so sharp an edge. - Then how should I? for, without flatt'ring, - You know I ne'er was fam'd for chatt'ring. - - To her, when she had done her prate, - Replies the god with carrot pate. - I know a scheme will do the job, - If you'll consent to bear a bob. - That, says the fighting jade, I'll do, - Though it should prove a bob or two. - Then, says the god, do you begin - Directly now to put it in-- - Put what, ye hedgehog? says the jade. - Why, put it into Hector's head - To ride amongst the Grecian band - With an old backsword in his hand, - Then with a flourish challenge out - The boldest bruiser to a bout - At quarter-staff or cudgel play, - Or flats or sharps, or any way, - Till Greece, desirous to abase him, - Shall find some thick-skull'd knave to face him. - - They then shook hands, their faith to pledge, - Then squatted down behind a hedge. - The moment that they disappear'd, - Helenus, who their chat o'erheard, - The breast of valiant Hector fir'd, - By telling him he was inspir'd. - - Hector, says he, I dare defy - The crying prophet, Jeremy, - To tell more gospel truth than I: - That no more rogues to-day may drop, - Go you and all your shabroons stop; - Then challenge, though the Greeks should stare, - Their best backsword or cudgel-player. - Away, and do not stay to grumble, - For be assur'd in this day's rumble - The devil will not let you tumble. - - He said, and Hector rais'd his mop's - Long shaft, and all the Trojans stops: - On this the Grecian chief commands - His squabbling knaves to hold their hands. - - Apollo and the fighting lass - Chuckled to find their scheme take place; - Like owls in ivy-trees they sat, - To see which broke the other's pate. - The common rogues, as well they might, - Were glad to let their leaders fight: - 'Twould please you much to see how soon - The rabble threw their broomstaffs down, - Then, with a clumpish kind of sound, - Bang went their buttocks on the ground. - As when a darkness spreads the streets, - One drunkard with another meets, - They roll, and mighty pother keep, - Till both i' th' kennel fall asleep-- - Thus by degrees these sons of Mars's - Settle themselves upon their a---s, - When Hector, with a thund'ring speech, - Made half the Greeks bedaub their breech. - - Ye Grecian bulls, and Trojan bears, - Attend, and prick up all your ears; - Great Jove's resolved, to plague us all, - That broils shall rise, and stocks shall fall, - So orders war to rage anew, - Till you burn us, or we burn you: - Better to end it soon than late, - Or make a peace <i>inadequate</i>: - Therefore with both your ears attend; - 'Tis Hector counsels as a friend: - To hinder, ere the day-light closes, - More bloody pates and broken noses, - Find out a Broughton or a Slack, - That dares my knotty pate attack: - If I should fall in this dispute, - Or get my teeth or eyes knock'd out, - Without the least demur or racket, - O' god's name let him have my jacket, - And all my cash; my carcass though - Amongst my friends to Troy must go, - There to be burnt; and whilst 'tis frying - They'll make a concert up of crying: - But if, by Phoebus' aid, my thrust - Shall lay your Buckhurst in the dust, - I'll give his jacket to Apollo - For helping me to beat him hollow; - His batter'd carcass I will save, - For which his friends may dig a grave - On the sea-shore, and o'er his bones - Lay one of Carr's black marble stones, - Which when some honest tar shall see, - As he returns from smuggling tea, - Thus to himself poor Jack will cry - (Belching a soft Geneva sigh), - Here lies, beneath this stone so polish'd, - A Greek, by Hector's staff demolish'd; - The stone acquaints us with the deed; - I'd tell his name if I could read. - - This speech so scar'd the Grecian prigs, - They star'd about 'em like stuck pigs: - When Menelau, of all the throng, - First found his feet and then his tongue; - For, jumping up from off his breech, - He sputter'd out this furious speech: - - Ye men of Greece, why all this trimming - Nay hold, I mean ye Grecian women! - What shame! when half the world shall hear - Ye all bepiss'd yourselves for fear, - That Greece had not one bold protector - Durst face this bullying scrub, this Hector! - But I will fight him, you shall see, - Though he's as big again as me; - And by that time ye ev'ry one - May change, perhaps, from wood to stone. - - This speech of speeches being done, - He whipp'd his greasy buff-coat on; - Wrath fill'd him with a strong desire - To run his fingers into th' fire. - Had he the fate of battle try'd, - Hector had surely trimm'd his hide; - But all at once both old and young, - As if by wasps or hornets stung, - Start up with one consent to speak, - And stop this Bobadillian Greek; - Resolv'd they'd not indulge the cub in - His great desire to get a drubbing. - - Atrides claim'd first turn to speak, - Because he was the leading Greek. - He clench'd his fist, and thus began: - The devil, sure, is in the man; - Burn my old wig! but you're about - A scheme to get your brains knock'd out: - You've no more chance, I'll make't appear, - Than Jackson's mastiff with a bear: - Vex'd though thou art, and ought to be, - Hector's too big a whelp for thee; - Achilles' self, were not his clothes - So thick they keep him safe from blows, - Would think it far the lesser evil - To be oblig'd to box the devil - Stay where you are, or lie in bed, - We'll find a chief with thicker head; - Though pleas'd the stoutest on the lawn - Would be to have the battle drawn, - Should he this bully rock engage - On Broughton's, or on any stage. - - He spoke: and honest Menelau - Was glad at heart he need not go, - But kept his cheeks upon the puff, - Till they had lugg'd his doublet off: - When the old cock, with froth and slaver, - Began, as usual, his palaver: - - O sons of Greece, pray what's the matter, - That thus I hear your grinders chatter; - And every Greek and Trojan sees - Warm water running down your knees? - Greece shakes her nob to see how soon - One blust'ring Trojan runs you down. - Time was when Peleus heard, with joy, - How well ye drubb'd these rogues of Troy, - And thought he ne'er could hear enough, - How Jack could kick, and Ned could cuff: - But, Lord! how will th' old fellow fret - To find one Trojan makes ye sweat! - What grievous tears will he let fall, - And wish the d---l had ye all! - O! that the gods, to try my mettle, - Would boil me in Medea's kettle, - Then lend me health and strength in plenty, - Such as I had at five-and-twenty, - When I broke all th' Arcadian spears, - And made the scoundrels hang their ears! - One Ereuthelion, at that place, - Had bought a rusty iron mace. - O' th' mayor of Hedon, who had got - A new one giv'n him for his vote: - This mace Areithous did handle, - Just as I would a farthing candle; - With this he smash'd the boldest foe, - But scorn'd a broomshaft or a bow. - Yet one Lycurgus came, and soon - With his sharp broomstick fetch'd him down; - He met him in a narrow place, - Where he'd no room to swing his mace, - On which, without delay, he puts out - His broomshaft's point, and pricks his guts out. - Down tumbled he in rueful case; - Which the conqu'ror seiz'd his mace: - But growing blind, this fighting tup - Thought it was best to give it up - To Ereuthelion, who would break - Above a hundred pates a week. - This he for several weeks had done, - Which made our trainbands sweat and run; - All ran but me, I scorn'd to flinch; - Though youngest, would not budge an inch. - This man I fought, this son of Mars, - And fetch'd him such a kick o' th' a-- - That down he dropp'd; but, when he fell, - I know you'll stare at what I tell, - But I'll make oath 'fore justice Baker, - He fairly cover'd half an acre. - Were I just now but half as strong; - Hector should not stand hect'ring long. - But you that are young men in vigour, - All join to cut a special figure! - If you daren't fight the man, e'en say; - Don't trembling stand, like stags at bay, - But trust your heels and run away, - If you can't keep your breeches dry, - You'd better, as you run, let fly; - Unless you fancy Hector may, - Should you in such condition stay, - First stop his nose, then run away. - - This drolling speech o' th' queer old wight - Made 'em all scratch where't did not bite; - So eager now they grew to smite him, - That nine jump'd up at once to fight him. - Great Agamemnon swore' and curs'd, - And damn'd his eyes but he'd be first; - At which bold Diomede was vex'd, - But swore by Pallas he'd be next: - Ajax, who seldom spoke a word, - Roars out, By Jove, I'll be the third! - 'Cause Agamemnon swore in passion, - Ajax thought swearing was the fashion. - The bold Oileus too was there, - Who swore by G-d he would not swear, - Ajax, says he, is third, don't part us, - But put my name in <i>locus quartus</i>. - Idomeneus, though not so swift - As brave Oileus, came in fifth. - Then on Euripylus they fix, - And mark his back with number six; - Merion thought it no disgrace - To come and take the seventh place. - Bold Thoas was a man of weight, - So him they put in number eight. - Ulysses saw, by what was done, - He must at all events make one; - Look'd fierce to hide his inward fear, - And boldly came to close the rear. - The motion felt at first for sh----g - Was strangely chang'd to one for fighting. - - When Nestor found his speech succeed, - He spoke again: My boys, take heed! - You'd like to've quarrel'd who should run: - And now each wishes he'd begun first: - But, to prevent all future diff'rence - About our giving one the pref'rence, - I'd have you take the good advice - Of Sancho's[1] lawyer--box and dice; - And it shall be his lot to go, - That trundles out the highest throw; - Whoe'er he be, the valiant buck - Will think himself in hellish[2] luck. - - He spoke, and then his case unlocks, - And out he lugs both dice and box. - The bullies then begin to pray, - But, on my soul, 'tis hard to say, - Whether to lose or win the day: - But to the bully Ajax all, - In secret, wish'd the lot might fall. - Nestor their meaning understood, - And tipp'd 'em all the wink it shou'd. - - [Illustration: Book VII, page 25. - Then Ajax grasps his clumsy fist - And gives the box a devilish twist-- - Out pop the dice--cries Nestor; Seven - 'S the main; a nick, by Jove, eleven.] - - Atrides then his elbows shak'd - Though inwardly his gizzard quak'd: - But soon he was reliev'd this bout, - For Nestor cries, Aums ace, you're out: - Then Ajax grasps his clumsy fist, - And gives the box a dev'lish twist-- - Out pops the dice, cries Nestor--Seven - 'S the main; a nick, by Jove, eleven. - Another throw then Ajax tries: - Eight is the main, old Nestor cries; - Resolv'd his jobbernoul to cozen, - Roars out, Another nick, a dozen! - And so it might, I swear and vow, - For aught that honest Ajax knew, - Who took on trust whate'er was done, - So whipp'd his fighting-jacket on, - Whilst all the rest could hardly help - From laughing at the thick-skull'd whelp. - - O warriors! cries this, head of cod, - I'll smoke great Hector's hide, by G-d! - But lend me first each man a prayer, - So low the Trojans may not hear: - But let 'em hear; on recollection, - To pray is no such great reflection: - No mortal scrub on earth dare say - That I'm afraid because I pray. - In days of old, though 'twas but rare. - Men bold as me have said a pray'r; - Cromwell himself, I've heard folks say, - Like any popish saint could pray; - And yet, when people were not civil, - Could swear and bully like a devil. - Then bring the man alive or dead, - That valiant Ajax ought to dread: - Not Warwick's earl, that kicking cub, - Whose arm could whirl so thick a club, - That all our grannies tell us how - He kill'd a whacking great dun cow-- - Was he alive, I make no doubt - To kill him, and his cow to-boot. - In Salamis my mother bore me, - And bid me kick the world before me. - - No more he said, but on the stones - Dropp'd down upon his marrow-bones, - Held up his hands, and then began - To say his lesson like a man; - His comrades too perform their parts, - And club their prayers with all their hearts; - But, like the Jews, the varlets made - D----'d ugly faces[3] whilst they pray'd: - O father Jove! whose greatest pride-a - Is whoring on the mount of Ida! - Now grant that honest Ajax may - Give the first broken head to-day: - But, if thou guard'st those Trojan cattle, - Then grant it may be a drawn battle, - That, like the German and the Gaul, - Both sides may sing, and roar, and bawl - Te Deum, though for nought at all, - And tell their God a cursed lie; - That both have got the victory. - - Now Ajax, 'cause the coat he put on - Was left without a single button, - To keep it tight, he ty'd it fast - With a rope's end about his waist, - Then like a Spaniard struts, who prides - To show his wrath in mighty strides. - Great joy ran through the Grecian bands, - Though his hands shak'd like drunken Rand's: - And, whilst he was the Trojan eyeing, - He grinn'd to keep himself from crying. - The Greeks were humm'd, and Troy, besides, - Was scar'd to see him take such strides. - Hector himself was wond'ring that - His mighty heart went pit-a-pat; - Though now there was no time to take, - But he must brew as well as bake. - Ajax behind his shield did keep, - But ventur'd now and then to peep; - A dev'lish thumping shield it was, - 'Twould load an English ox or ass; - Look Scotland through till you are blind, - So large a targe you'll hardly find: - Seven good tup-skins as can be seen, - Cover'd a greasy kitchen-screen. - The roast-meat side of which, we find, - With old tin cannisters was lin'd: - One Tychius, who dwelt in Hyle, - Where Yorkshire shoes are made most vilely, - Finish'd this shield, and made it neat, - By sawing off two clumsy feet: - This potlid Ajax held before - His guts, and then began to roar: - - Hector, come here, you whelp, and try - Who cudgels best, or you or I. - Achilles dare not come--who cares? - You see as good a man that dares; - Let him sit sulky, if he will; - His place great Ajax' self dares fill: - Bold hearts like me we have good store; - There's three, I'm certain, if not four, - That any hour o' th' day are willing - To box for sixpence or a shilling; - Nay, some for half a crown will try, - When cash and courage both run high: - So, let me lose the day or win it, - Here I stand ready to begin it. - - Hector replies, Great son of Tel, - You seem to scold it pretty well; - But, sure, you think the rock of Troy - Some chuckle-headed booby boy, - Just parted from a country school, - And therefore dares not face an owl; - But I will face you, you shall see, - Though you were in an ivy-tree. - And look'd as fierce before you spoke, - As Charley in the royal oak: - I dare, for th' honour of our house, - Say boh! to any Grecian goose. - Your broomshaft strokes with ease I'll cut off. - And all Broughtonian thumps can put off; - But as I value not a f--t - Your puffs, I shan't make use of art; - By downright strength I'll try my fate, - And scorn to steal a broken pate. - - At this his quarter-staff he rears, - And laid about the Grecian's ears: - His nob he gave a swingeing knock, - But might as well have hit a rock. - Ajax then drove at Hector's crown, - Who flinch'd, or else he'd knock'd him down; - So vastly furious was the stroke, - Both quarter-staves to pieces broke. - The cudgels next the bullies try, - And baste each other hip and thigh; - Fierce as two squabbling lawyers prate, - Or two fish-wives at Billingsgate, - And seem'd to be a special match, - Till Hector got a little scratch. - His wrath to see his blood run down - Made him let fly a thumping stone, - Which hit his pate, and off did pass - As if his noddle had been brass. - But Ajax threw with such a shock - A craggy ragged piece of rock, - And aim'd the stone so well, that he - Almost demolish'd Hector's knee. - Hector was glad to lean upon - His potlid, else he'd tumbled down: - But Sol, who always did attend him, - Brought him a dram of rum to mend him. - Andrew Ferrara's next the word, - For each had got a highland sword, - Which when they flourish'd in the air, - The glitt'ring blades made people stare. - Just as they met in guise uncivil, - Like great St. Michael and the devil, - With fell intent to cut and slash, - And of their bodies make a hash, - The wary seconds both popp'd out, - And put an end to this tough bout. - Talthybius did the Greek attend; - Idæus was great Hector's friend; - (Both constables and cunning knaves) - Betwixt the swords they thrust their staves. - Idæus first began to speak, - For he had learnt a little Greek: - - Forbear, my buffs, your farther fray, - Jove says ye fight no more to-day; - No more of bus'ness can be done - To-day, because the day is gone. - - Ajax was now grown cock-a-hoop, - Because he could with Hector cope; - Pray, Sir, says he, to Hector speak: - He challeng'd forth the boldest Greek. - If he should say 'tis time to part, - I'll give it up with all my heart; - But he, you both must own, begun first, - And therefore ought, I think, t'have done first. - - Then Hector speaks: Great Sir, you're right; - And, if you dare but trust your sight, - By looking sharp you'll see 'tis night: - And you and all the people know, - To box at night's against the law: - For want of light, we by surprise - Might knock out one another's eyes; - And e'en just now, so dark it grows, - I scarce can see your copper nose: - So let's decide some other day - Who's the best man at cudgel-play: - Your great escape the Greeks will tell of, - They'll jump to find you're come so well off; - And all the good old wives in Troy - At my escape will jump for joy. - But let us make, this glorious day, - Some sort of swap, that folks may say, - These souls were neither Whig nor Tory, - But battled for their country's glory. - - With that a sword he gave, whose hilt - Was made of brass, but double gilt: - This gift did Ajax' stomach melt - So much, he gave his greasy belt: - Then with a Spanish air those twain - Majestic strutted home again. - - [Illustration: Book VII, page 37. - In this queer trim the Grecians bring - The puff'd-up hero to the king, - Who, far from thinking 'twas a man, - Thought they had drest a sack of bran - In Ajax' clothes,--] - - Hector, at his return to Troy, - Did really make 'em jump for joy: - They star'd, but yet the better half - Came up to feel if he was safe. - Poor Ajax was swell'd up and puff'd, - Like a black-pudding over-stuff'd. - In this queer trim the Grecians bring - The puff'd-up hero to the king, - Who, far from thinking 'twas a man, - Thought they had dress'd a sack of bran - In Ajax' clothes; but, being fully - Convinc'd it was the very bully - That could with valiant Hector box, - He bid the butcher kill an ox. - That you mayn't think the gen'ral boasted, - A fine Scotch runt was kill'd and roasted: - Great Agamemnon laid the cloth, - Then boil'd the neck and shanks for broth. - When all was cook'd, the king took care - To deal each hungry knave his share: - But valiant Ajax for his supper - Ate the sirloin and half the crupper; - By which you'll think, and think aright, - The man could eat as well as fight. - When they had stuff'd their bellies full, - And drunk each man a hearty pull, - Nestor begins, who never long - Was known to hold his noisy tongue: - - It grieves my very guts to say - That this has been a dismal day, - But faith it was: upon the shore - A dozen hearty cocks, or more, - Were on their backs by Hector laid, - And half of them half-knock'd o' th' head. - Whilst we are drown'd in grief and sorrow, - How can we think to box to-morrow? - A little time should sure be found - To get our dead men under ground; - Which if we don't, I know full well - They'll quickly make a cursed smell: - To Hector's drubs we need not yield, - Our friends will stink us off the field. - When we have got them under ground, - Both rotten carcasses and sound, - Each man shall have a handsome stone - For babes to cry or piss upon: - Next we will all our bricklay'rs call up - To dig a ditch and build a wall up, - To save our huts, and boats, and lighters, - From those damn'd copper-nos'd sheep-biters; - Then make strong gates, that, if the rout - Should come too near, we'll bolt 'em out; - Next on the walls build towers, and prop 'em; - The devil's in't, if that don't stop 'em: - Then if the foe comes helter skelter, - We all know where to run for shelter: - For want of this, if they should beat us, - They burn our boats, and roast and eat us. - - Thus spake this queer old Grecian wight, - And all the captains thought him right. - In the mean time the Trojan peers - Were met, and almost got by th' ears: - Though their hearts ach'd, this crew so factious - Could not refrain from being fractious: - All order they despis'd, or summons, - Just like an English house of -------. - At last the grave Antenor rose, - And strove their diff'rence to compose. - - What I shall utter is no merit, - 'Tis inspiration of the spirit, - Says 'this old cuff: Restore but Helen, - And we our houses safe may dwell in; - Let Helen and her money go - To Sparta or to Strumbello, - With all belongs her head or tail; - Don't keep the paring of a nail. - If Paris hath not got enough - Of trimming her bewitching buff, - But longs to switch the gipsy still, - You'll own with me he never will; - Then must be forc'd--and so I vote - To do the very thing he ought: - We broke the truce, the Grecians felt us, - And Jupiter, by G-d, will pelt us; - Then let us quickly stir about, - And do't before you're forc'd to do't. - - Th' old Trojan spoke, and down he sat, - When Paris rose and twirl'd his hat; - Smelt at his box, perfum'd with musk, - Then hem'd, and look'd as fierce as H--k: - You say your speech must claim no merit, - 'Tis inspiration of the spirit; - But, if the matter I can handle, - A canting quaker's farthing candle, - Twinkling within him, gives more light - Than this of yours that burns so bright. - When young perhaps you might be wise; - Wisdom decays as well as eyes: - You think that I have had enough - Of trimming Helen's heav'nly buff. - The thought is mighty well for you, - For whom three times a year might do; - But Helen ne'er shall quit my hand, - So long as I can go or stand. - As for the money that she brought - From Greece, I scorn to touch a groat; - It lies, with his tobacco-stopper - (Five pounds in silver, three in copper), - In an old trunk, with some old gear - I never yet would let her wear. - Let Menelaus touch the pelf, - I only want to touch herself. - Besides, I'll pay him for the touch, - And give him twenty times as much - From my own stock as she brought with her, - When first she came from Sparta hither: - But ere she goes, by holy Paul! - I'll see the devil fetch ye all. - - Priam, who fear'd by all this rout - His trusty Trojans might fall out, - Rose up to speak; the crew so vi'lent - Had the good manners to be silent; - On which th' old Trojan bow'd to each, - Then hem'd, and made this king-like speech: - Ye hearts of oak, that round me sit, - What think ye if we pick a bit? - I saw the cook-maid, Mary, put on - The spit a thumping loin of mutton, - Above an hour and half ago; - It must be ready now, I know. - When we have pick'd the bones and tail, - And each man drunk a gill of ale, - We'll guard the walls, and all the night - Look sharp to keep our matters right: - A bellman in the morn shall mention. - To the Greek captain our intention; - And add, 'twill suit us to a tittle, - If both sides take their breath a little, - That those who on the ground are laid - May come and tell us if they're dead; - If they're alive, we can assure them, - Our quacks will either kill or cure 'em; - Then, if they please, with might and main - We'll buckle to't, and box again. - - Soon as the Trojan long had said, - Each captain seiz'd a piece of bread; - But could not stay to pick a bit, - So whipp'd a slice from off the spit; - Then pocketing both bread and roast, - Ran off to eat it at their post. - Before the sun brush'd up his lamp, - Idæus went to th' Grecian camp: - He found the chief, his friends, and brother, - Looking as wise at one another - As justices, when on the bench - They try some poor unlucky wrench, - And make the jade at Bridewell yelp - For breeding brats without their help: - The bellman tinkled first his bell, - And then began his tale to tell:-- - - Ye Grecian constables, I pray - Lend all your ears to what I say; - And from my soul I wish, to ease ye, - That ev'ry word I speak may please ye: - I wish our rogue and your d----d whore - Had both been drowned long before - This hubble bubble they had coin'd, - By getting both their giblets join'd! - I wish the brimstone's pepper'd tail - Was in the belly of that whale - That swallow'd Jonah, though the Jew - Had such rank flesh, he made him spew; - And I'm afraid this self-same whale, - After he'd swallow'd Nelly's tail, - Though plaguy salt, would find it stale; - Therefore, like Jonah, on the main - Would come to spew her up again; - And then some luckless country will - Be plagu'd with her grimalkin still. - But for all this, I'm bid to tell ye, - That Paris will not part with Nelly; - He finds her flesh so very sweet, - He swears he'll touch no other meat; - But says he'll give you ev'ry piece - Of money that she brought from Greece: - And, if he can but peace restore, - Will double it ten times o'er and o'er; - But swears the wench sha'n't quit his hand, - So long as he can go or stand. - Next I'm to say 'twill suit us well - To rest our weary limbs a spell, - That those who lie in honour's bed, - Whether knock'd down or knock'd o' th' head, - May be sought out, and, when they're found, - Be decently put under ground; - And then with all our might and main, - If so ye like, we'll box again: - But who shall drub the other well, - The Lord above can only tell. - - The Grecian chiefs, by what appears, - Both cock'd their mouths and prick'd their ears; - But, like a modern bill in chancer', - They took some time to give an answer. - This did Tydides so provoke, - He jump'd upon his legs and spoke: - - Zooks! you would make a parson swear, - To see ye all thus gape and stare! - What signifies their money now, - Though they would send the brimstone too? - You see their wooden towers are shaken, - Then what the pox can save their bacon? - Let us but kick 'em out of doors, - And the same men that shook their towers - Shall shake their daughters, wives, and whores. - The Grecians shout their approbation - Of this laconic bold oration. - Atrides then the peace rejects, - But sends to Priam his respects: - - You hear, good Sir, the shouts of Greece - Are, to a man, against this peace. - As much as you all broils we hate, - But think the peace <i>inadequate</i>: - Yet, though we can't agree to peace, - I really think club-law should cease, - That we may both sides look about, - And try to find our dead men out. - When yours are found, pray don't you think - That they are dead because they stink; - For ours, that liv'd to run away, - Stunk most confoundedly to-day; - Therefore take care you turn and turn 'em, - And shake 'em well before you burn 'em:I - speak lest groundless fears should curb ye, - For blast my eyes if we'll disturb ye! - - He then, to show he meant 'em fair, - Flourish'd his broomshaft in the air. - On this the crier trots away - To Troy, to tell 'em what they say. - The Trojan boys were got together, - Like flocks of birds in frosty weather: - Thus gather'd on a heap he caught 'em, - Waiting to hear what news he brought 'em. - Finding there was no time to spare, - He hem'd, to make his throttle clear: - They instant leave him room to enter, - And place him in the very centre; - From whence he with a crier's voice - (Where words are mostly drown'd in noise) - His speech deliver'd full as clear - As any crier you shall hear: - - The Grecian captains, from their tents, - To Priam send their compliments; - And, though they can't consent to peace, - They all desire club-law should cease: - 'Cause then both parties might, they said, - See if their dead men were all dead. - - The Trojans, upon this, thought good, - To buy some loads of billet wood; - But to the Greeks no man would sell it: - On which they thought 'twas best to fell it - Without the lord o' th' manor's leave; - So instantly began to cleave. - But I can tell 'em, had they then - Been caught by justice F--d--g's men, - Those true-bred hounds would never drop 'em, - Till they had seen his worship shop 'em. - - The sun had wash'd his fiery face, - And greas'd his wheels to run his race, - When Greeks and Trojans look'd about - To find who'd got their brains knock'd out; - But neither side had time to weep, - Till all were gather'd on a heap. - The Trojans then to burning fall, - And made one crying serve 'em all. - The Grecians thought th' example good, - So out they lugg'd their stolen wood: - Then laid the bodies in their places, - And fell to making d---d wry faces. - When they were burnt as black as coal, - One lousy tombstone serv'd 'em all. - - This done, with might and main they fall - To dig a ditch, and build a wall; - For Nestor, who had still some cunning, - Guess'd, when the rascals took to running, - This wall might stop the Trojan fighters - From burning their old rotten lighters. - Upon the wall these Grecian powers - Erected what themselves call'd towers: - But in these days our modern doxies - Would call them hobbling watchmen's boxes. - Some baker's billets next they took, - The sharpen'd points did outward look, - The blunt end stuck in earth; and these - The Grecians call chevaux de frise. - - But whilst they thus their labour kept on, - They rather discomfrontled Neptune. - As near to surly Jove he sat, - Brother, says he, I'll tell you what; - If Greece should finish yon mud wall, - And those I built for Troy should fall, - This wall will be remember'd longer - Than those I built, though so much stronger. - This, by my soul, I shall not like!-- - Ha' done, says Jove, thou wrangling tike! - Thou admiral of the sea, and let - A mortal work thy gullet fret? - I love that much; but cease to grumble, - These walls of mud shall quickly tumble. - No bantling that's unborn shall view - A stick of what they're doing now. - Thy waves shall sap the bottom soon, - Or drunken cits shall piss 'em down, - When, in a flaming one-horse chair, - They come to take the country air; - Where a round dozen pipes they funk, - And then return to town dead drunk. - - Whilst thus they fratch'd, the Greeks were getting - Just finish'd, as the sun was setting; - And then the hungry sons of whores - Butcher'd their bulls and cows by scores; - The fat sirloins on spits they put, - But smoke their gods with tripe and gut. - Just as they clapp'd 'em on their crupper - To eat this great uncommon supper, - They spy'd a lighter under sail, - Loaded with beer and Burton ale, - Which came i' th' nick to cheer their souls, - And fill their empty skins and bowls. - Eunæus did the ale procure, - For he was only small-beer brewer; - A cask of both sorts did he send - A present for the king his friend; - The rest the Grecian captains bought, - To pay for which our author thought - Some pawn'd a shirt, and some a coat. - In feasting all their cares were sunk, - And ev'ry noble chief got drunk; - But they had made a woeful blunder, - For Jove they pinch'd, who growl'd like thunder; - Which scar'd the drunken rogues so sore, - They spill'd their liquor on the floor; - And, in the midst of all their airs, - Forgot their oaths to say their pray'rs, - And beg such coil he would not keep, - But let the maudlin knaves go sleep. - - - - [1] Cervantes tells us; if I remember right, that Sancho Pancho, after -hearing the cause on both sides with wonderful attention, and taking a -little time to digest the learned arguments on both sides, pulled out -his box and dice to decide the matter, and the highest throw won the -cause; which gave great content. If our j-dg-s would but follow his -example, it would prevent their being so often interrupted in their nap, -as they need be disturbed but once in a cause. - - [2] Whether Nestor means good or bad luck by the word <i>hellish</i>, we must -refer to the bucks of this age, because by them this word is used -indifferently for both good and bad. - - [3] Our author says, that going one evening into the Jews' synagogue, he -observed the most devout of them making confounded ugly faces. What -reason they have for striving to put on worse phizzes than God has given -them, he cannot tell. - - - - - THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Jove calls his under-strappers round him, - And in a dev'lish rage they found him. - Says he, I bade ye hither come, - To charge ye all to stay at home; - Go play at put, or loo, or brag, - But don't a single finger wag - To help yond' rascals that are fratching, - And, monkey-like, each other scratching. - Whoe'er offends, observe me well, - I'll broil the scoundrel's ears in hell. - Yet did that scratching, kicking brim, - The jade Minerva, wheedle him, - In spite of this hot blust'ring fit, - To let her help the Greeks a bit - With good advice, lest they should fall - To running off for good and all. - No sooner had the mortal varlets - Begun to squabble 'bout their harlots, - Bumping each others' guts and sides, - When Jove away to Ida rides: - There borrowing C---x the grocer's scales, - He weighs:--the Trojan luck prevails: - On which, with thunder, hail, and rain, - He smok'd the Grecians off the plain. - Old Nestor only chose to stay, - Because he could not run away; - But Diomede soon brought him help, - And sav'd this queer old chatt'ring whelp. - Then Juno, ever restless, seeks - To make old Neptune help her Greeks: - Neptune, who knew the wheedling witch, - Answers her bluntly, No, you bitch! - Teucer comes next, his art to show; - He shot a special good long bow: - But Hector stops the knave's career, - And sent him with a flea in's ear. - Pallas and Juno steal away - To help the Grecians in the fray: - But quickly Iris made 'em pack - To heaven in a hurry back. - Now whilst they sweat, the goddess Night - Jump'd up to part the bloody fight, - Although, ere she could part 'em all, - The Greeks were drove behind their wall. - The Trojans burn good fires all night, - For fear the Grecians in their fright - Should think it proper, ere 'twas day, - To launch their boats and run away. - - - [Illustration: Book VIII, page 61. - And whilst he to the supple gang, - Like Harry, made a short harangue. - They ey'd him all with fearful look, - And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke.] - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK VIII. - - - - Aurora was the skies adorning, - Or, in plain English, it was morning, - When crusty Jove, who never tarried - Long in his bed, for he was married, - Call'd all his counsellors of state - Some weighty matters to debate; - And whilst he to the supple gang, - Like Harry[1], made a short harangue, - They ey'd him all with fearful look, - And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke. - - Ye sniv'ling rogues with hanging looks, - Ye cringing barons, earls, and dukes, - Good heed to what I utter take ye, - Or, by the living G-d, I'll make ye: - Don't think, ye whelps, that ye shall find - Me fool enough to change my mind - For aught that you, or you, or you, - Or any whore or rogue can do. - Therefore, if any meddling knave - Attempts a single soul to save, - Or lends his help to either side, - Flux me if I don't tan his hide! - He shall receive from some strong tar - Three dozen at the capstan bar; - Or, in my furious wrath, pell-mell, - I'll kick the scoundrel down to hell; - To red-hot brazen doors I'll hook him, - And like a rat with brimstone smoke him. - Join all together, if ye will, - And try your utmost strength and skill; - As easily I can ye souse - As nitty tailors crack a louse. - But if you choose with me to cope, - I'll let you down this good new rope; - Hang at one end both great and small, - And add to that Westminster-Hall, - Judges and lawyers all together: - This hand can lift 'em like a feather; - Though in that place I know 'tis said - There's many a solid heavy head. - - 'Twas thus the moody Thund'rer spoke - And all the crew like aspin shook. - Yet, for all this, that cunning jade, - His bastard by a chamber-maid - (Although, to hum his wife, he said - She jump'd one morning from his head), - Maugre his blust'ring and his strutting, - Ventur'd a word or two to put in. - Says Pallas, I am sure they are - Confounded stupid dogs that dare - Oppose your worship's will; such blocks - Ought to be flogg'd, or set i' th' stocks; - But don't be angry if I stickle - To help the Greeks in this sad pickle. - And though you'll lend us some hard knocks, - If we on either side should box, - Yet let Minerva's counsel, pray, - Advise 'em when to run away; - Else they may gaze and stare about - Till they get all their teeth knock'd out. - - Old Square-toes smil'd, and told the jade, - She need not be so much afraid; - For though he knew it did her good - To move and circulate her blood, - And therefore now-and-then might stir her, - Yet he'd a mighty kindness for her, - As ev'ry bastard-getting knave - That's married, for their bastards have, - More than for children got in strife - Upon their lawful scolding wife: - Then bid his nags, with hoofs of brass, - And sorrel manes, be fetch'd from grass. - These tits, one Friday afternoon, - Jove purchas'd of a Yorkshire loon - In Smithfield, with great care, and yet - Got most abominably bit; - - Neither of those he laid his hand on - Had got a single foot to stand on. - - [Illustration: Book VIII, page 65. - These tits, one Friday afternoon, - Jove purchas'd of a Yorkshire loon - In Smithfield, with great care, and yet - Got most abominably bit.--] - - When Vulcan saw his dad was bit, - He on a rare expedient hit, - And a most noble scheme it was, - To case their founder'd hoofs in brass: - Had he not found this way to do't, - Old Rumbler might have walk'd on foot, - As he had got no cash to spare - To go and buy another pair. - Soon as the geldings did approach, - He yok'd 'em to a flaming coach, - Which Vulcan made that very year-- - The first was built for our lord mayor-- - From which the god took his design, - And made it clumsy, strong, and fine. - Jove with a hackney-coachman's whip - Soon made his batter'd geldings skip: - Whilst down the hill like smoke they run, - The god had plac'd himself upon - A three-legg'd stool they call'd a throne, - Nor did his godship stay or stop - Till he arriv'd on Ida's top. - There he forsook his coach, to trudge it - On foot; but first from out the budget - He pull'd some hay, with which he feasts - His tits--Good coachmen mind their beasts: - Then turning, and about him looking, - He saw two priests his dinner cooking; - On which, a little time to kill, - He sat him down o' th' top o' th hill; - But first he fix'd o' th' edge o' th' slope - Hooper's reflecting telescope, - By which he saw, when pointed down, - All their rogue's tricks within the town; - And turning it the least aside, - Their roguery in the boats espy'd; - And found that both in boats and tow'rs - The men were rogues and women whores. - And now the Greeks made wond'rous haste - To get their staves, and break their fast; - They thought, to spit their malice fasting - Would look like rancour everlasting, - So never fail'd before a fight, - Of something good to take a bite: - A special shift they oft would make - With two full pounds of Havre-cake; - But did not, as our trainbands do, - Provide a bit for dinner too; - And pocket store of hard-boil'd eggs, - With penny rolls and chicken legs. - The Trojans too, with nettle-porridge, - Had warm'd their stomachs and their courage - And cautiously great care had taken - To line their guts with eggs and bacon. - The gates once open, out they rattle, - And men and horses smoke to battle; - Spread o'er the plain, and fill the roads - With fighting fellows by cart-loads: - To work they fall like angry bulls, - And cudgels clash 'gainst empty skulls; - In streams the blood and snivel flows - From many a Grecian's snotty nose, - And many a trusty Trojan's too; - In such great show'rs the broomsticks flew. - A woeful lamentation spreads, - From batter'd ribs and broken heads; - And though this fray began so soon, - It lasted all the morn till noon: - But when the mid-day sun prevails, - Jove borrows Cox[2] the grocer's scales; - With steady hand th' old whoring boy - Balanc'd the fate of Greece and Troy. - This day the Grecian fortune fails. - Though weigh'd by these impartial scales; - Then instantly Jove's thunder roars, - And all their ale and porter sours; - Idomenæus would not stay, - And both Ajaces ran away: - Poor Agamemnon, parch'd with thirst, - Ran, though he did not run the first; - But sure the boldest hearts must sink - When they have nothing fit to drink: - Old Nestor only chose to stay, - Because he could not run away; - Paris had with resistless force - Ham-string'd his best flea-bitten horse; - Old Nestor fumbled at the braces, - And cut the ropes that serv'd for traces: - This the old Grecian scarce had done, - When Hector furiously came on, - And ten to one had been so civil - As send his square-toes to the devil; - But Diomede, who was no stranger - To Hector, saw th' old fellow's danger; - Forward he sprung, and call'd upon - Ulysses, who like wildfire run: - - Pr'ythee, Ulysses, don't you fly - Amongst that mongrel heartless fry, - For fear some Trojan thief should crack - Your paper skull behind your back: - Nestor's in danger, stop and meet us, - Or Hector gives him his quietus. - Ulysses, when he heard that Nestor - Was in a scrape, ran ten times faster; - O'er the deep sand flew helter skelter, - And leap'd on board his boat for shelter: - Nor did the honest statesman grieve, - His brother in the lurch to leave; - But Diomede, though he was gone, - Ventur'd to help th' old cock alone. - From off his cart a jump he took, - Then stopp'd his horses whilst he spoke: - - Old Buff, says he, you well may gape, - You're got into a cursed scrape. - This furious whelp, this Hector, surely - May smash your rotten bones securely. - Thy horses are but slow and poor, - Can't trot a mile in half an hour: - Then haste, old boy, and mount my cart; - I value Hector not a f--t: - Do you but guide the horses right, - And if it comes to blows I'll fight: - Mind but my nags, they'll run, by Mars, - As if the de'il was at their a--e: - One misty day, when none could see us, - We stole these horses from Æneas: - Then leave thy shabby tits, don't mind 'em, - Some of our straggling crew will find 'em: - With these we'll let the Trojan meet us; - We can but run, if he should beat us. - - Old Nestor chuckled at his heart, - To find his friend had brought his cart; - Quickly, without or stay or stop, - He made a shift to tumble up: - His own old yawds[3], so lank and bare, - He left to two skip-kennels' care; - And care no doubt the backward ways - They took, as skips do now-a-days. - Old Nestor drove, for he was carter, - Full speed to meet this Trojan tartar. - Tydides aim'd at Hector's crown; - It miss'd, but brought his coachman down. - Hector no nearer could approach, - For want of one to drive his coach; - So whipp'd behind, and for a stiver - He quickly hir'd another driver: - One Archeptolemus arose, - A coachman with a fine red nose; - But Hector had no time to stay, - So hir'd the rascal for the day. - And now this Diomede would soon - Have made the conqu'ring Trojans run - Like sheep before the Spanish Don[4], - But Jove again began to growl, - And thunder'd from his mustard-bowl[5]. - Lightning so near the Greek did pass, - It sing'd his nose, and burnt the grass. - The frighten'd nags began to prance, - And Nestor dropp'd into a trance, - But soon recover'd, and begun - To chatter: Zoons! says he, let's run; - To-day the thunder-clap director - Swears he will fight for none but Hector, - So let's jog off; perhaps he may - Take Nestor's part another day: - But, spite of all our labour, still - You know he will do what he will. - - Says Diomede: Old Grizzle-beard, - I suck in ev'ry word I've heard. - But what the pox will Hector say, - If bold Tydides runs away? - Rot me! before it shall be said - I ran for't, he shall break my head. - - Nestor replies: O sad! O sad! - The man is surely drunk or mad! - Why, what the plague can Hector say? - He never made you run away: - That whelp is sensible enough, - You've dusted many a Trojan's buff; - But the most wicked sons of plunder - With lightning dare not fight, nor thunder. - - He said no more, but crack'd his whip, - And gave the Trojan chief the slip: - The horses run along the coast, - As fast as country priests ride post, - When death, assisted by good liquor, - Was seiz'd some neighb'ring guzzling vicar: - The Trojans shout, as well they might, - To see them in such hellish fright: - When Hector calls to Diomede, - You've special heels in time of need; - For this th' Argives will give their chief - For his own share a rump of beef. - Though Hector's self you dare not face, - You beat him hollow in the race; - I find you are, when blows you're shunnin' - The devil of a hand at running. - You see to what your bragging comes; - You shake our walls! you kiss our bums: - Though yet, perhaps, I'll dust your coat - Before you reach your crazy boat. - - The Grecian bully could not bear - Such cutting kind of jokes to hear. - Thrice the bold chief his horses stopp'd, - And thrice the bold proposal dropp'd; - For Thunder, in the shape of Fear, - Whisper'd the warrior in the ear: - - For what the devil should you stay? - I'm sure, if you don't run away, - You'll get your hide well drubb'd to-day. - - This counsel by the chief was taken, - Who smok'd alone and say'd his bacon. - Great Hector, with no little glee, - The lightning saw as well as he, - But to his sense each thunder crack - Felt like a cheering clap o' th' back. - - Then to his trusty Trojans spoke: - Ye backs of steel, and hearts of oak, - Remember what our grandames tell us, - That all our dads were clever fellows, - And not a man but what would scorn - To flinch from duty night and morn; - Therefore dismiss all needless fears, - Because Jove's rumbling thunder swears - We now shall lug the Grecians' ears. - Advance then quick, we'll surely end 'em; - Yon muddy walls shall ne'er defend 'em. - Soon as we've drove them down their hatches, - Lug out your tinder-box and matches, - And strike a light; we first will swinge 'em - With broomstaves, then with links we'll singe 'em. - He spoke; and bid his horses go - In words like these, Gee up! gee ho! - Ball, Jolly, Driver, hi! gee hi! - Old Dobbin, zoons! why don't you fly? - Perform your journey well this day, - You ne'er shall want both corn and hay. - You know my dame, when I return, - Is always ready with your corn: - You're sure good measure there will be, - No cheating ostler keeps the key; - Run till I catch that Diom's buff coat, - Or Nestor's potlid and his rough coat. - Gain me but these before ye tire, - And then I'll set their boats on fire. - - This Juno heard, that scolding witch, - And gave her buttocks such a twitch, - It shook her three-legg'd milking-stool, - Which shook the stars from pole to pole. - - Neptune! says she, I vow and swear - To me it seems a little queer - That you should see those Grecians beaten, - Whose victuals you so oft have eaten, - Those Greeks, by whom you're daily fed - With bullock's liver and sheep's head. - Both Egoe and Helice too - An ordinary keep for you, - And stuff your guts three times a week - With fry'd cow-heel and bak'd ox-cheek, - At their own proper charge and cost; - Yet you sit still and see 'em lost. - Would their own gods take heart and stand, - With all my soul I'd lend a hand; - Nor could that cross-grain'd surly elf, - My precious husband, help himself, - But, whilst he saw the Trojans tumble, - Sit still and hear his own guts grumble. - - The water God, in great surprise, - First shakes his noddle, then replies: - I ken your jade's trick mighty well, - You'd have me, like yourself, rebel; - But I know better: you're his wife, - And therefore may rebel for life; - Wives for rebellion plead old custom, - And they will keep it up, I trust 'em: - We're sensible 'tis nothing more - Than what their mothers did before: - Content I'll keep the way I'm in, - And slumber in a whole calf's skin. - - And now the mighty mob of Troy, - By Hector led, the Greeks annoy: - Close by the ditch they threat'ning stand, - With flaming hedge-stakes in their hand: - Poor Agamemnon, in a fit - Of fear, was very nigh besh-t. - But Juno help'd him with a touch - To some small courage, though not much - He ran, and carried in his hand - The royal ensign of command; - An old red flannel petticoat, - That once belong'd a dame of note, - But happening in her trade to fail, - Atrides bought it at her sale. - The back part and the sides, to view, - Appear'd almost as good as new; - But, notwithstanding all her care, - The breadth before was worn thread-bare. - Mounted upon Ulysses' boat, - He way'd this flaming petticoat, - And thus began to tune his throat; - But roar'd so loud, and was so scar'd. - Both Ajax and Ulysses heard, - Though separated by the fleet, - 'Tis thought, at least, five hundred feet: - - O, all ye (Grecian paltry dogs! - The vessels echo'd back, Damn'd rogues!) - Where are your mighty boasts at dinner - 'Gainst Troy? each single Greek would win her! - Whilst your ungodly guts ye fill, - You all look fierce as Bobadil: - Now, I'm convinc'd each single glutton, - If Troy's strong walls were made of mutton, - Would eat his way into the town, - And quickly pull their houses down; - Yet now, though driven on a heap, - Dare all as well be d--d as peep - Across the ditch to look at Hector, - Who will in less, as I conjecture, - Than half an hour quite overturn us, - And in our rotten scullers burn us:-- - O Jupiter! whose strength is mickle, - Was ever man in such a pickle? - My limbs impair'd with claps and pox, - And curs'd with rogues that dare not box; - But they, the battle once begun, - Don't stoutly fight, but stoutly run; - For thee I've broil'd ten thousand cuts - Of bullock's hearts and pecks of guts, - Then only ask'd a slender boon, - Leave to demolish that damn'd town: - But since you won't give leave, we pray - You'll let us drub the dogs to-day, - Just to get time to run away. - - Thus roar'd the king, in doleful dumps, - Then on the sandy shore he jumps. - To hear this melancholy ditty, - Jove could not help a little pity; - From off his three-legg'd stool he starts up, - And sent a sign to cheer their hearts up. - Behold, a hungry carrion-crow - Had got within his beak, or claw, - A frog; but someway out it popp'd, - And 'mongst the hungry Grecians dropp'd. - To Frenchmen this, instead of beating, - Had been a sign of rare good eating; - They would have jump'd, if from the bogs - The crows had brought ten thousand frogs; - It even rais'd the Grecians' courage - More than a bellyful of porridge; - They on a sudden turn about, - And strive who first shall sally out. - That bullying, noisy, scolding bitch, - Call'd Diomede, first leap'd the ditch, - And dealt such furious strokes to rout 'em, - He made the Trojans look about 'em. - The first that ply'd his heels to run - Was Agelaüs, Phradmon's son-- - A noted broker in the Alley-- - He saw this furious Grecian sally; - On which he nimbly limp'd along, - As brokers do when things go wrong; - But the bold Grecian mark'd him soon, - And with a broomstick fetch'd him down - (This Diom. had a wondrous knack - Of hitting folks behind their back): - As down he tumbled in a sweat, - His potlid and his noddle met; - And made between 'em such a hum, - It sounded like a kettle-drum. - Now that a passage once was made, - The Greeks, though woefully afraid, - Seem'd quite asham'd to let that elf - Tydides box it by himself; - On which the Atrides show'd their faces, - And after them the fool Ajaces: - Meriones was next, and then - Appear'd the bruiser Idomen: - Ulysses thrust his long neck out, - To peep with caution round about, - And saw all safe, so ventur'd out; - Which when the archer Teucer saw, - He ventur'd to bring out his bow, - Then with a gimlet bor'd a hole - Through Ajax' potlid, whence he stole - A peep, to see what kind of spark - Stood most convenient for his mark; - On which he shot a dart, and plump - Behind the targe again did jump. - Thus rats and mice, fry dagger prest, - Skip nimbly back into their nest; - And honest Ajax lugg'd, in troth; - A potlid big enough for both. - My dear Miss Muse, pray let us know - Who tumbled first by this long bow. - I will, my ragged friend, says she, - Because you ask so prettily: - Orsilochus, a friend to Venus, - First fell, and after him Ormenus. - One kept a dram-shop in the Strand; - T' other sold clothes at second-hand - In Monmouth-street; where if you've been, Sir, - You must have heard him cry, Walk in, Sir! - Then Lycophron, a tailor, fell, - And went to mend old clothes in hell; - Unlucky dog! the Fates did twist his - Small thread of life with Ophelestes, - A button-maker, who was shot, - And then poor Chromius went to pot. - Scarce was he down upon his back, - When Dacer fell with such a whack - Upon his ribs, it made 'em crack. - This Dacer was a penny barber, - That us'd both whores and rogues to harbour; - So got his living within doors, - By shaving culls and curling whores. - Bold Hamopaon next he handles, - A famous maker of wax candles; - Although of late he grew but shallow, - And mix'd his wax with stinking tallow. - Fierce Melenippus could not keep - His feet, but tumbled on the heap: - He in the Borough kept a slop-shop, - Exactly o'er against a hop-shop; - From Teucer's bow an arrow pops, - And bump'd his guts through all his slops. - Besides all these, this spawn of whore - Reports he fell'd a dozen more: - But I can't think much credit's due - To one that shoots so long a bow. - - When Agamemnon saw this whelp - Knocking folks down without his help, - He jump'd and skipp'd, and cried, Huzza! - I wish, my boy, that ev'ry day - You'd shown us this same sort of play: - Of mighty service it had been - To keep the Grecians' breeches clean. - Since thou canst shoot with such a smack, - Well may thy good old daddy crack; - Than his true-born he loves thee more, - Because thy mother was a whore. - He quickly saw thy early worth, - And from the Foundling brought thee forth; - Where, hadst thou staid, thou'dst been a tailor, - Or else a blacksmith, or a nailer; - But, proud to find he'd such a son, - He paid the charge and brought thee home. - Now hear a Brentford monarch speak: - If Troy should tumble down next week, - First, for myself, you may be sure, - I shall provide a buxom whore, - Or three or four, or happen more; - But when my proper share is reckon'd, - Depend upon't, you shall be second. - Besides a noble piece of gold, - And twenty shillings three times told, - I'll answer that the sons of Greece - Will let you choose the next-best piece. - - The youth replies: I would have you, Sir, - Know that your bribes are lost on Teucer; - I neither fight for ale nor cake, - But drub the dogs for mischief's sake; - I hate the Trojans, and would eat 'em, - Was there no other way to beat 'em: - Eight darts I sent, and aim'd 'em full - At bully Hector's knotty skull; - They hit eight sons of whores, 'tis granted, - But Hector was the whore's-bird wanted: - Some damn'd old Lapland witch incog. - Defends that blust'ring Trojan dog. - - Just as the words were out, he straight - Let fly again at Hector's pate. - Again the arrow miss'd its mark, - But hit another Trojan spark, - Gorgythio call'd, of royal blood: - Old Priam got him when he could - Stand stiffly to't; then all on fire-a - He kiss'd his mother Castianira, - And got this youth, as fine a boy - As ever broke a lamp in Troy. - Have you not, at the tailors' feast, - Beheld by chance a weak-brain'd guest, - Who is to drink no longer able, - But rests his head upon the table? - Just so this luckless lad did rest - His heavy nob upon his breast. - Another dart this spark, hap-hazard, - Let fly once more at Hector's mazzard: - It miss'd; which made the Greek conjecture - Apollo turn'd the shaft from Hector-- - Although it did not miss so far, - But brought the driver off the car; - Poor Archeptolemus's jaws, - The coachman with the copper nose. - It hit; his leather jacket rumbled - So loud, as on the ground he tumbled, - That all the horses in the cart - Could not refrain a sudden start. - When Hector saw his coachman fall, - It vex'd his liver, guts, and all. - Cebriones, a country lout, - By chance was gaping round about, - To him the bully Hec. calls out: - Here, you, Sir, come and drive this cart; - And if you find the horses start, - Keep a tight hand and proper check, - Or else, by Jove, they'll break your neck. - Then out he jumps, and, stooping down, - Took up a fine Scotch paving-stone; - Just as the Grecian's bow was bent, - Hector this hard Scotch paving sent - With such a force, it broke the bow, - And snapp'd the catgut string in two; - Then smack'd his guts with such a thump, - He fell'd him flat upon his rump: - Alastor and Mecisteus bore him, - And Ajax clapp'd his potlid o'er him: - In this condition, all besh-t, - They lugg'd him to the Grecian fleet. - And now old father Jove, we find, - Began to think he'd chang'd his mind - Too soon; on which he fac'd about, - To help the drooping Trojans out. - The Greeks again forsook the fray, - And like brave fellows ran away: - Hard at their tails bold Hector keeps, - And drives them into th' ditch on heaps, - Pelted their Dutch-made heavy rumps, - And ply'd 'em off with kicks and thumps. - Thus I a farmer's cur have seen, - When sheep are driven o'er the green, - A constant waughing does he keep, - But only bites the hindmost sheep: - Thus did this fiery son of Mars - Lend the last knave a kick o' th' a--e; - And now when, out of breath for haste, - With loss of men the ditch they'd pass'd, - These fighting fellows, all so stout, - Just made a shift to turn about; - There they saw Hector's cart-wheels reach - The very edge of this great ditch, - And there he stood, the Grecians fright'ning - So much, they swore his eyes were lightning. - Some of their wise old soakers said - His noddle was a Gorgon's head: - But one deep-learn'd north-country elf - Swore 'twas the muckle de'il himself; - For oft before his face he'd seen, - And ken'd him by his saucer eyne. - - Juno, whose nose was mighty tickle, - Soon smelt their most unsavoury pickle, - And, calling out to Pallas, cries: - Smite my black muff, and blast my eyes, - If all my patience is not gone - To see the Grecians so run down! - Help me to save 'em now or never, - Or else the dogs are lost for ever, - But how, we scarce have time to think; - Smell you not how the rascals stink? - Gods! shall one scoundrel do this evil, - And drive such numbers to the devil? - That son of a damn'd Trojan bitch, - See how he scares them 'cross the ditch! - - Pallas replies, I see as well - As you or any one can tell - What yon infernal rascal's doing; - But how to save our rogues from ruin - I can't devise; your surly mate - Won't let me break that Hector's pate: - In vain to crack his skull I strive, - Your Jove will neither lead nor drive: - Th' immortal rogues forget us soon - As mortal rogues a favour done: - To me he came, and made great moan, - Begging that I would save his son, - The mighty kill-cow Hercules-- - A clumsier dog one seldom sees; - And yet the thief, with rare hard sweating, - Cost him three days and nights in getting! - I whipp'd me down to lend him help, - And often sav'd the clumsy whelp; - But had I known his dad so well, - When last he took a trip to hell, - His journey should have been in vain, - I ne'er had help'd him back again: - The stumbling-block that lay i' th' way. - To hinder his return to-day, - I'd have been stuck before I'd lift it, - But left the devil and him to shift it. - I've a good mind to go and beat his - Beloved minx, that goody Thetis; - If e'er again she strokes his thighs, - I'll give the brimstone two black eyes; - To humour her curs'd bastard's freaks, - He'll quite demolish all our Greeks; - When 'tis too late, this face of gallows - Will call me his beloved Pallas. - Zounds! don't stay here to wink and pink, - But get your chariot in a twink; - Spite of the Thund'rer and his punk, - We'll make those Trojan scoundrels funk; - Let us but land upon the shore, - Hector will hector them no more; - When I and Juno come to fight 'em; - The devil's in't if we can't fright 'em; - And ten to one, but in a crack - We'll lay this Broughton on his back. - But if, in spite of all our cracks, - He lays us both upon our backs, - As things go now, the swagg'ring devil - Will scarce have time to be uncivil: - And if he has, his whoring sconce - Can only trim us one at once; - So whilst one gets her bus'ness done, - The other will have time to run. - - Her voice then ceas'd through rage and spleen, - Whilst Jove's eternal scolding queen - Lent the poor Trojans fifty curses, - Before she went to fetch her horses; - But yet, though pinch'd for time, took pains - To tie red ribands to their manes: - When Pallas instantly threw down - Her daggled petticoat and gown, - Nor staid to fold her ragged placket, - But whipp'd her on a buff-skin jacket - So glaz'd with grease all o'er the stitches, - It shin'd like Ashley's greasy breeches. - Upon the car she took her stand, - And shook a broomstaff in her hand, - So large, that, tie a proper heap - Of broom o' th' end on't, it would sweep - All London streets, I'm pretty sure, - Quite clean in less than half an hour, - And souse into the Thames drive all - The rubbish, aldermen and all. - Juno soon got upon the box, - And drives the geldings with a pox; - The Hours, as they had done before - Stood on the watch to ope the door. - Eager to crack poor Hector's crown, - They gallop'd neck or nothing down: - But Jove, who kept a sharp look-out, - Saw what the brimstones were about, - On which he calls for Kitty Iris: - Kitty, says he, my pluck on fire is, - And every toe about me itches - To have a kick at yon damn'd bitches, - Because so impudently they - My strict commands dare disobey: - Fly, meet the brimstones both, and tell 'em - A thousand fathom deep I'll fell 'em, - Kill both their nags, and break their wheels, - And tie the beldames neck and heels; - And, spite of all that they can say, - Whether they scold, or swear, or pray, - Expose their brawny bums together - For ten long years to wind and weather, - Where every passenger that comes - Shall take a slap at both their bums! - But speak you to Minerva first, - Because, at present, she's the worst: - As for my rib, though shame to tell, - She pleads old custom to rebel; - But now I mind her noise no more - Than Fielding minds a scolding whore. - - On this the rainbow goddess strides - Her broomshaft, and away she rides: - (By Homer's own account, we find - At any time she'd beat the wind). - She met the chariot on the slope, - Plague on you both! says Iris, stop: - Such foolish journeys why begin ye? - Jove thinks the devil must be in ye; - And so do I: he bid me tell ye, - A thousand fathom deep he'll fell ye. - Kill both your nags, and break your wheels, - And tie you by the neck and heels; - And, spite of all that you can say, - Whether you scold, or swear, or pray, - Expose your brawny bums together, - For ten long years, to wind and weather, - Where every passenger that comes, - Shall take a slap at both your bums: - To you, Minerva, I speak first, - Because he thinks you're now the worst: - As for his rib, 'tis shame to tell, - She pleads old custom to rebel; - But much he wonders what bewitches - Your busy pate, you bitch of bitches[6]! - - Like lightning then away she flew; - Her speech though made 'em both look blue: - They star'd like honest Johnny Wade, - When he one evening with the maid - A game at pushpin had begun, - And madam came before he'd done! - But Juno, though her guts and mazzard - Work'd like a guile-fat, yet no hazard - She chose to run, so curb'd her swell, - And seem'd to take it mighty well, - But could not help from wriggling hard, - Like mother ****, when a card - Goes very cross, and cuts her soul - By losing a sans-prendre vole. - - Our rage, my crony, with a pox - Has brought us to a damn'd wrong box; - I've just found out, it strange and odd is, - That each of us, a powerful goddess, - Should with our crusty thund'rer squabble, - And all for what?--A mortal rabble. - E'en let 'em live with custard cramm'd, - Or die all placemen and be damn'd; - Let Jove give victory, or rout 'em, - No more I'll fret my guts about 'em. - - On this she gave her tits a smack, - And pull'd the reins to keep 'em back; - But all the while they turn'd 'em, she - Kept crying Gee, plague rot ye, gee! - When they were fairly turn'd about, - Full speed once more the tits set out, - And gallop'd up the hill as soon - Within an ace as they came down: - The Hours unloos'd 'em, rubb'd their coats, - And gave 'em half a peck of oats; - Then fetch'd clean straw to make their bed, - And put the chariot in a shed; - Whilst the two brims, with bashful faces, - Sneak'd off, and went to take their places. - - And now old Jove was tir'd of Ida, - And up to heaven he took a ride-a; - But drove his geldings with such ire, - For want of grease his wheels took fire. - Lest they should burn the horses' bums, - In a great splutter Neptune comes: - With an old sail he call'd his fish-clout, - Which serv'd for table-cloth and dish-clout, - Th' old soaker in an instant reels out, - And smothers both the burning wheels out. - Away walk'd Jove, and took his seat - I' th' hall where all their godships meet; - But with such weight he mov'd his toe, - It made an earthquake here below, - And in a wicked popish town - Tumbled a hundred convents down, - And sent inquisitors and friars, - With shoals of other holy liars, - Smoothly, without a single rub, - To see their patron Beelzebub, - Into whose territories though - They all were certain they must go, - Yet at that time you may be sure - They thought it rather premature. - - But to the point. Like our lord mayor, - With solemn phiz, Jove took the chair; - Juno and Pallas in the hall - Both look'd as if they'd something stole: - They squinted up, and saw he frown'd, - So whipp'd their eyes upon the ground, - And seem'd as gravely to be list'ning - As harlots at a country christ'ning: - He smil'd to find this lucky push - For once had made the brimstones blush; - So instantly began to chatter: - Juno and Pallas, what's the matter? - What made ye both return so soon? - I thought you'd ta'en a trip to town - To pull some bawdy-houses down, - For Juno's sake, who can't endure - The sight of either rogue or whore; - And therefore I expected soon - To see the bagnios tumbling down, - And noseless rogues, eat up with pox, - And whores in nothing but their smocks; - Running, like devils, helter skelter - To wine and brandy shops for shelter. - Pray give me leave though to inquire, - Is Troy demolish'd, or on fire? - But know, ye vixens, I shall make - Your grumbling guts and gizzards ache, - If e'er again ye dare to fratch - With him who is your overmatch; - For all the underlings o' the sky - When I begin to kick must fly. - Therefore, I say, beware your mazzards, - And run no more such foolish hazards: - If my enchanted wand I shake, - You'll feel your guts and livers quake: - Whoever dares my wrath oppose, - With red-hot tongs I'll pinch his nose, - And make him caper, roar, and snivel, - As great St. Dunstan did the Devil. - - The moment that he did begin - This speech, the gipsies dropp'd their chin, - And ere he made an end o' th' song, - Their faces grew a full yard long; - But yet their comfort was, that all - The race of whoring Troy would fall. - Pallas so much with wrath was gor'd, - She could not speak a single word: - But Juno's passion was so strong - She could not hold her noisy tongue; - So, scolding at her usual rate, - She thus attack'd her loving mate: - - You know you're stronger far than all us, - Or else such names you durst not call us, - But split me if I don't believe - You swinge the Greeks to make us grieve! - 'Tis not strict justice guides your rod, - 'Tis contradiction all, by G-d! - And yet you can pretend that no man - Is half so positive as woman; - But 'tis a base invented fiction: - Man taught poor woman contradiction: - For Greece you sit and see us grieve, - And won't an inch of comfort give; - By your cross surly face we're snubb'd, - And forc'd to see the Grecians drubb'd; - But let us give 'em counsel fit, - Or every soul will be besh-t. - - To Jove she chatter'd at this rate, - And thus reply'd old Surly-pate: - Vulcan my thunder-bolts is bright'ning, - And store of rosin's ground for lightning[7]: - Therefore to-morrow morn with thunder - I'll scare 'em so, you need not wonder - If half the ragged sons of bitches - With downright fear bepiss their breeches. - Nor let your restless gizzards grumble - Though you see dozens of 'em tumble; - Hector sha'n't cease o' th' bum to kick 'em, - Or with his old cheese-toaster stick 'em, - Till he shall lay his luckless paws - Across Pelides' fav'rite's jaws; - Then in a passion shall Achilles - Fight like a devil--such my will is: - Nor shall it alter, though you stay - And scold for ever and a day: - To Lapland go, where witches dwell, - Or Strombello, the mouth of Hell; - There arm both conjurors and witches, - I'll smoke the dogs, and burn the bitches. - - Meantime the Sun, with phiz so bright, - Walk'd off, and up came madam Night: - The Grecians thought her mighty civil; - The Trojans wish'd her at the devil: - But as the Greeks were forc'd to yield, - The bully Trojans kept the field. - Hector, resolv'd the dogs to maul, - Doth instantly a council call, - That he might have their sanction to - Perform what he design'd to do-- - A trick, I've heard some people say, - Our gen'rals practise to this day. - But as the Grecians lay so near, - That they perhaps his speech might hear, - He led 'em to Scamander's banks, - Where down they sat to ease their shanks. - His quarterstaff in his right hand - He fix'd, to help to make him stand, - On which he lean'd when he thought fit - (You know a speaker ne'er should sit - Till his oration's at an end, - Whether they do or not attend): - This staff, which he in battle bore, - Was three yards long, or rather more, - With bladders tied each end thereon, - To scare folks as he knock'd 'em down. - - Forward the chief his body bends, - Like Gl-ver, and began, My friends, - If you will yield me due attention, - Some thoughts that just occur, I'll mention - This day we hop'd the Grecian boats - To burn, and steal their thread-bare coats; - But, to our great and grievous sorrow, - We cannot do it till to-morrow, - Because that blackguard, Mrs. Night, - Came in and drove away the light. - Howe'er, 'tis fit, by beat of drum, - To let her know we see she's come, - And that, come when she will, 'tis proper - For thinking men to think of supper. - After we've eat our cheese and bread, - Let all men see their horses fed; - For never was that ostler born - That would not cheat 'em of their corn, - Unless you keep a sharp look-out; - And I, depend upon't, will do't. - The town will send us in, of course, - Both provender for man and horse; - To stop our drunken knaves from sleeping, - A thousand bonfires let us keep in: - These fires will shine as bright as day, - And then the Greeks can't run away: - But if they do, the rogues shall find most - Confounded doings for the hindmost; - For, should they pop away i' th' dark, - We'll give 'em every man a mark, - Such as may last each man his life, - To show his roaring brats and wife, - And warn the thieving sons of Tartars - How they again beat up our quarters. - Next, to the town, if you think well, - We'll send the bellman with his bell, - Who with his rusty voice may call - The hobbling watchmen to the wall: - And, to prevent all needless frights, - Let the old women hang out lights, - Lest, while the shades of night are on us? - The Grecians steal a march upon us, - And, slily entering the town, - Trim all our wives both up and down. - To night these orders are enough, - To-morrow we will work their buff: - I've a great notion that we may - Drive these infernal rogues away, - Or tie the rascals to a stake fast, - To give our dogs and cats a breakfast. - Therefore this single night let's watch, - And, when the morning streaks you catch, - Get all the link-boys you can hire, - And set their huts and boats on fire; - Then shall myself and Diomede - Decide whose nose shall soonest bleed, - And whose propitious fate prevails, - When weigh'd in Justice Cox's scales. - Soon as to-morrow's dawn appears, - I'll dust his cap about his ears; - This good old stick shall crack his crown, - And knock his rogues by dozens down: - As sure as I perform this task, - May I obtain whate'er I ask; - With my lord-mayor to dine on Sundays, - Or common-council men on Mondays, - To cram my guts with tart and custard, - And goose with apple-sauce and mustard, - Or guttle down six pound of turtle, - And drink the glorious and immortal: - In joy thus eat, or fast in sorrow, - As I shall drub the rogues to-morrow! - - He ceas'd, and all the captains praise - This noble speech with three huzzas. - After they'd loos'd from off the yoke - The horses, wet with sweat and smoke, - And tied, to keep the nags apart, - Each tit behind his owner's cart; - Then came fat bacon from the town, - With bread (but ev'ry loaf was brown), - And a good stock of mild and stale, - Though not one cask of Yorkshire ale: - The victuals they began to cook; - But for their gods, to make a smoke, - They bought some guts; but all that night - Their godships had no appetite, - Puff'd the smoke from them in a sputter, - And quarrel'd with their bread and butter. - Juno, that fratching quean, pretended - Her sense of smelling was offended: - Jove said he felt a queerish funk, - And Pallas swore the guts all stunk. - Thus did Troy find, to all their cost, - A very handsome supper lost, - Though their great courage did not droop, - Because good liquor kept it up. - As, when a show'r in London streets, - By rubbish thrown, a stoppage meets, - A ragged blackguard with his link - Attends your steps across the sink, - The link directs you where to get - To save your shoes from dirt and wet; - So, by the help of blazing fires, - You'd see the Trojan's wooden spires; - And twice five hundred fires as bright - As those that grace the annual night - That say'd us from the Powder-plot, - These roaring sons of Troy had got; - Each fire did fifty Trojans view, - So drunk, they laid 'em down to spew: - The horses show their cart-horse breeding, - And kick each other whilst they're feeding. - - - - [1] Harry the Eighth. - - [2] This man was a justice of the peace. Whilst his clerk was writing a -mittimus to send a girl to Bridewell, for retailing her ware full -measure for a shilling a turn, he had his own weights broken in pieces -by the jury, and thrown into the street, for being short above two -ounces in the pound. - - [3] Yorkshire word for horses. - - [4] Don Quichote. - - [5] They made thunder formerly at the play-houses in a great -mustard-bowl. - - [6] The reader, perhaps, may think I make Iris abuse the goddess of -wisdom too much in the Billingsgate style; but if he will peruse Homer, -he will find Iris ten times more abusive in Greek, than I could make -her in English. Homer, 1. S. lin. 423; [Greek: Annotatei kuon addees]. -This part of Iris's abuse is not in commission from Jove, it naturally -arises from the petulant malignity of the messenger. Gentle reader, if -you would avoid endless quarrels, never employ an ill-natured female to -deliver an angry message to one of her own sex; for it must be a very -angry message indeed that a woman cannot make an addition to. - - [7] They make lightning at the play-house with rosin pounded very small, -and thrown through the flame of a candle. - - - - - THE NINTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - This book begins with Atreus' son - Persuading all his Greeks to run, - Let's haste, says he, and save our lives, - And like good husbands kiss our wives; - For, if we stay, be sure Old Nick - Will play us some damn'd slipp'ry trick; - Nor hope the sooty-fac'd old boy - Will e'er desert his fav'rite Troy. - - At this fine speech Tydides swore - Worse than he'd ever done before, - And spoke his mind, because he reckon'd - Old Chatterbags would be his second: - Here he was right: th' old cock begun, - And d--d his eyes if he would run. - They then consult to know which way - They can with any safety stay. - Old Square-toes in the humour still is - To try and reconcile Achilles; - Then adds, I think it not amiss is - To send both Ajax and Ulysses. - As he propos'd, they both are sent, - And with them goody Phoenix went. - Now, though it plain appears, that each - Made in his turn a pretty speech, - And did with as much cunning plead - As ******, when he's double-fee'd, - Achilles turn'd it all to farce, - And clapp'd his hand upon his a--e. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK IX. - - - - Whilst Troy's bold sons with shouts get drunk, - The conquer'd Grecians sweat and funk. - As when a tailor's boy has got - His master's goose, almost red hot, - The coat it singes; straight the fire - The bloody tailor fills with ire: - He thumps the lad with all his might, - First with his left hand, then his right; - The bastard's head, on both sides beat, - Can neither stay, nor yet retreat; - No chance for his escape appears, - Whilst double storms attack his ears: - Just so it far'd with Greece; away - They could not run, nor durst they stay: - Poor Agamemnon was distress'd - Nine times as much as all the rest - (You'll say, perhaps, How could he choose? - For he'd nine times as much to lose): - Howe'er, he calls his man, to send him - To beg the captains would attend him; - But charges him before he goes, - To bid 'em tread upon their toes. - As they were bid, they found their legs, - But walk'd as if they trod on eggs. - Their near approach the chief espying, - Rose up to show 'em he was crying; - And ere his doleful tale began, - He sobb'd and blubber'd like a man. - - [Illustration: Book IX, page 124. - As they were bid, they found their legs, - But walk'd as if they trod on eggs. - Their near approach the chief espying, - Rose up to show 'em he was crying.] - - They found him in this piteous case, - Tears running down his dirty face: - So, when retention's lost, there steals - A salt stream down th' old lady's heels. - - At length he spoke: Good lack-a-day! - In these hard times what can we say? - Of Jove we all complain with justice, - For in his royal word no trust is: - The oracles of wise Apollo - Have likewise been a little hollow; - Betwixt 'em both we're finely nick'd, - And get most tightly thump'd and kick'd: - They promis'd we our fobs should cram, - But now you see 'tis all a flam; - For Jove, if ever he design'd - To do us good, has chang'd his mind: - Although so much concern he feels, - He gives us leave to trust our heels. - Therefore I vote that ev'ry man - Trot home as fast as e'er he can, - Nor hope that we shall e'er destroy - This heaven-defended whore's-nest, Troy. - - He spoke: and each bold Grecian son - Look'd as he'd neither lost nor won, - But gaping stood; till Diomede - Began to speak, and speak he did: - - You told me, Sir, I late begun - To fight, but rot me if I run! - No cause of quarrel Diom. seeks, - But we are lost if no man speaks: - You bawl'd so loud, though I was near you, - You made our raggamuffins hear you; - Though then I thought it good to wink on't, - Seal up my day-lights, but I'll think on't! - Great Jove, whose power all power surpasses, - Who makes great men of calves and asses:Witness - the English h---- of p----, - And c----s too of later years; - Witness the ministers of ----, - And privy c----s of late; - Witness their treaties with the French; - Witness their j----s on the bench; - Witness their bishops, priests, and deacons, - All pious souls, but very weak ones; - Witness their justices of peace, - And lawyers too:--but let me cease - To chatter more this kind of stuff, - I think there's witnesses enough: - So to my text, as parsons say; - The gods, when they mix'd up thy clay, - Put half and half, and let thee pass - Half a great booby, half an ass; - But I am sure they could not then - Design thee to command brave men, - Because to give thee they thought fit - A soul no bigger than a nit! - Would any bold commander, pray, - Persuade his rogues to run away? - And then 'tis ten to one you'll swear - The raggamuffins ran for fear. - You and your sneaking crew may run; - But take my word, since I've begun - To kick and cuff, you may depend on't - I'll tarry here, and see the end on't. - Then don't this fair occasion slip, - But get on board thy rotten ship; - The rest, I hope, will scorn to mog off, - And dim my day-lights if I'll jog off, - But stay to fire yon whoring town, - And pull their barns and cocklofts down - But if they all should choose to fly. - Stenny will stay, and so will I. - When once I've enter'd, know I am - As steady as a Rockingham, - Whose country's cause will ever be - His object to eternity. - Like him I'll knaves and fools oppose, - But join both heart and hand with those - Whose words as well as actions show - They love their king and country too: - In such a cause I'll never flinch, - And smite me if I stir an inch! - With heaven we came when we begun, - And hell itself sha'n't make us run. - - He ended here; and all the crowd - Began to shout so very loud, - You'd think each man would burst his liver - With roaring, Diomede for ever! - When up the rev'rend figure rear'd - Of chatt'ring Nestor's grizzle beard, - And spoke; the chiefs all silent sit - As members when they're humm'd by Pitt - - Thus he begins: My trusty knight, - Stick to your text, by G-- you're right! - I like a man that never starves it, - But blames king George, if he deserves it; - And yet before you gave it o'er - You might have said a little more: - I'll speak, nor do I think the thing - Will vex the people or the king. - Damnation seize and overtake - The man that fights for fighting's sake! - Such rogues the world would over-run, - And break good people's heads for fun; - But we, though under feet we're trod, - Have justice on our side, by G-d! - Therefore to-night let sentries watch us, - Lest these confounded rascals catch us - All fast asleep. But first 'tis proper - To give these sentinels some supper: - Then thou, whose pow'r no man controls, - To council call the grave old souls; - Before the bus'ness you begin, - Give each old buff a dram of gin; - 'Twill cheer their hearts, with age quite shrunk, - But don't you make th' old firelocks drunk; - For counsel good no honest fellow - Can give, if he is more than mellow: - With mod'rate share of meat and drink - They'll freely chatter what they think, - And, like a City congregation - Who meet sometimes for the good o' th' nation, - Some one, before the close of night, - May blunder on a thing that's right. - See but yon Trojan fires so near us! - If we but sneeze, they overhear us; - Whilst then so nigh our boats they keep, - The devil fetch me if I'll sleep! - To-morrow morn begins the jumble, - Where Troy must fall, or Greece must tumble. - - 'Twas thus old Grey-beard spoke; and straight - Each sentry posted to his gate: - The son[1] the father first obey'd, - To show he minded what he said: - (For in those times a son would do - Things that are out of fashion now): - Ascalaphus, the son of Mars, - Follow'd this hero hard at a--e, - Along with bold Ialmen, who - Was bully Mars's bastard too; - Merion and Diepyrus - Went next, and then Aphereus; - Last came the valiant Lycomede, - A hardy whelp of Creon's breed. - Twice fifty constables, all knaves, - Guarded each bully with their staves; - Not one durst sit upon his crupper, - But standing mump'd his crust for supper. - The chief, both hungry and afraid, - Had in his tent a supper made; - Though matters wore no pleasing looks, - He had not yet discharg'd his cooks; - 'Tis true, he oft had thought upon - A proper reformation, - And taken good advice from all but - The very man he should, L--d T----t, - Who soon would bring that scheme to pass, - And send his drunken cooks to grass. - But as there's nought on earth can look - So dismal as a half-starv'd cook, - I hope, for these poor devils' sake, - He won't such sneaking methods take, - But let each honest red-nos'd cook - Die, as he's liv'd, in fire and smoke. - - All the old cocks were bidden to - This melancholy supper, who - Were capable at this bad bout - By good advice to help them out: - They ate a deal, but drank much more, - Nor stopp'd till they were half-seas o'er; - Nestor, who on this weighty summons - (Like speakers in the house of c------s) - First penn'd a speech, then got it off, - Began to hawk, and spit, and cough, - Then spoke: Thou monarch, who, in troth, - Exceed'st the kings of Brentford both! - Thou powerful chief, bedeck'd with ermine, - Who, as thy fancy shall determine, - Canst pull down men, and set up vermin, - A thing you did some time ago, - To show the folks what you could do - Upon a pinch; but if again - You do it, Nestor tells you plain - All honest men will so resent it, - They'll give you reason to repent it. - Though you are honest we are sure, - Yet if you give to rascals power, - The wrongs you suffer them to do - Will all be justly laid on you, - And, spite of all that you can say for't, - The folks at last will make you pay for't. - In matters of this kind you'll find me - Much older than yourself, so mind me; - Cares that o'erload my upper shelf - Belong to you, and not myself; - In weighty matters don't be nice, - But always jump at good advice: - Though I'm the man of sense to make it, - Yet if you've sense enough to take it, - The gaping crowd will all agree - That you're as wise a man as me: - To seem exceeding wise, we know, - Is half as good as being so. - A noodle with a well-tim'd shrug - May any time the world humbug; - Then hear me, for I'll utter nought - But what I think, and always thought: - I told you, when you made such gabbling, - When Thetis' son and you were squabbling, - And like two blackguard scoundrels swore, - And curs'd, and damn'd about a whore, - That through my spectacles I saw, - Like Winchelsea, how things would go; - I saw the bully would resent it, - And told you who would first repent it; - And to your cost you find out now - I told you nought but what was true. - But as that matter's done and o'er, - And can't be help'd, I'll say no more: - The man's a puppy that begins - To kick his neighbour's broken shins; - Only 'tis time you strive to please him: - You vex'd him, and you must appease him. - - The chief then answers to the knight, - Flux me, old buff, but you are right! - I see as plain as in a glass, - You're a wise man and I'm an ass. - Too late I find that great strong elf - Is half an army of himself; - For him, that water-witch his mother - Drives us on heaps o'er one another: - Fain would I alter what I've done, - And strive to please both witch and son: - A bribe must fetch him, or he can, - I'll take my oath, be no great man; - For never yet of all that tribe - Could any one resist a bribe. - A star and riband, or a pension, - Will overset the best intention; - Make patriots, like the courtiers, civil, - And sell their country to the devil. - Therefore, bear witness all around, - I hereby offer him ten pound, - Seven iron pans to boil his fish in, - And twenty chamber-pots to piss in; - I'll likewise add a dozen nags, - That soon will fill his empty bags - By winning plates; not one is idle, - But ev'ry horse has won his bridle-- - Nay, some have won a saddle too-- - But of that sort there's very few. - Their pedigrees are all so good, - That few their equals are in blood: - Out of the twelve, he'll find eleven - Have got a ring-bone or a spawn, - Which is the surest sign indeed - They're of the very tip-top breed. - Besides, I'll give him seven wenches, - With fists so hard, they've kept their trenches - From being storm'd; if any clown - Offer'd to touch, they'd knock him down-- - 'Twould do him good if he would stop - And see how well they twirl a mop, - And spin so fine, they weekly earn - Their sixteen pence in spinning yarn-- - All these I'll give him out and out, - And add the wench we fratch'd about; - For his broad back doth so bewitch her, - She never yet would let me switch her. - Besides all this, when we have taken - The town, with all their eggs and bacon, - Of guttling stuff he shall have store, - Besides full twenty wenches more; - Himself shall be the first who chooses, - And what on trial he refuses - We'll take ourselves; then he shall go - To Greece, and be my son-in-law; - The farm that I have under care, - Orestes and himself shall share: - Lastly, three daughters I can boast, - All taught to bake, and boil, and roast; - Girls, that, besides plain-work and stitching, - Can do the business of the kitchen, - Can make a pudding or a pie, - Or toss you up a lambstone fry; - Laodice and Iphigene, - Two tighter girls are seldom seen; - In the sun's rays there not a beam is - So bright as red-hair'd Chrysothemis; - All three are dev'lish sprightly jades, - And sore against their will are maids. - These in their Sunday's yard-wide stuff, - Or, if he pleases, dress'd in buff, - I'll let him see to take his choice, - Like which he will, he has my voice; - And for her portion I'll give more - Than ****** spends upon his whore; - The mayor of Garrat shall not be - So great a man by half as he; - Because, those mighty gifts to crown, - I'll make him bailiff of a town, - With six fine villages about it-- - And keep my word, he need not doubt it. - He shall command Enope's people, - And Cardamyle without a steeple; - Pherag and Pedasus, whose trees - Produce so many gooseberries, - That I am told they yearly bottle - No less than fifteen hundred pottle, - And every pottle in the year - Brings them at least five farthings clear; - Hira's good pastures and Epea, - And special fields about Anthea, - Where all the farmers fill their purses - By grazing brewers' founder'd horses:-- - These, standing on the salt-sea beach, - Almost as far as Pylos reach, - Where bulls, and cows, and oxen roar, - And men get drunk, and women whore.-- - See what I offer to appease him, - The devil's in't if this don't please him: - By pray'rs the hardest thing relaxes, - Nothing stands fix'd, but death and taxes. - - Nestor, whose silence gave him pain, - Starts up to chatter once again: - Now, by my soul, 'tis bravely offer'd! - Singe my old beard if I'd have proffer'd - 'Bove half as much! This must convince - The man that you're a noble prince. - And now we've talk'd the matter fully, - Let's send and tell this stiff-rump'd bully - Your princely offer; I will warrant - To find men proper for the errand, - Men that can strut it, and look big, - With store of guts as well as wig. - In such-like cases, when we can, - We mostly send an alderman; - But since none came in our old lighters - (Few aldermen, God knows, are fighters), - We'll send some people in their places, - With aldermanic guts and faces. - There's Phoenix, like myself, grown wise, - He knows the use of well-plac'd lies; - Then Ajax, with a head so big, - If we can fit him with a wig, - He'll quickly make Achilles stare, - And think we've sent my good lord-mayor. - But I'm afraid we cannot get him - A busby large enough to fit him; - Because, when we set out, I know, - He look'd all over Middle-Row, - But could not find one, up or down, - Half deep enough to fit his crown; - Which is the cause he's forc'd to wear - His old thrum night-cap all the year. - Ulysses too, to mend the job, - Must help 'em with his fudging nob: - He'll tell more lies for half a crown - Than any shopkeeper in town. - And then, to close the farce, and make - It look like bus'ness, let 'em take - Two beadles with their brass-nobb'd staves, - I hate to see things done by halves. - When they are gone, let us prepare - To whisper every man a prayer: - But do not let the Trojans hear, - Lest they should think we pray for fear; - Though, if they can but nose it well, - They'll guess our pickle by the smell. - - And now, as usual, his oration - Receiv'd a gen'ral approbation: - The messengers soon left their places; - But first they wash'd their dirty faces, - And with an old tin dredging-box - Scatter'd some meal upon their locks, - Then from a swinging pitcher full - Of ale each took a hearty pull. - Now Nestor had a sort of dread - This ale might get into their head; - And they, perhaps, might chatter then - Like drunken common-council men, - And tell the king to whom they're sent, - They came to pay a compliment, - But end their message with a spice - Of drunken hickuping advice; - So follow'd of his own accord, - And begg'd that not one angry word - Might 'scape their jaws, and that Ulyss, - Whose roguish tricks did seldom miss, - Would see the greatest care was taken, - In this great strait to save their bacon. - - Away they trudg'd in dreadful plight, - Because it was so dark a night - They could not see a spark of light; - But they could hear the billows roar - As they came rumbling on the shore, - Which made 'em, whilst their way they kept - Lug out a prayer or two to Neptune: - Neptune, quoth they, we all could wish - That you would help us to a dish - Of sprats or smelts, or any fish, - Or, what will likeliest do the thing, - A little handful of old ling; - For that's an article will melt - A judge's heart, unless he's gelt. - But they might pray, and pray, and pray, - Neptune was out of luck that day; - Though he had fish'd from morn to night, - He had not got a single bite; - Nor (should their souls depend on that) - Could he assist them with a sprat, - Or e'en a shrimp; but as for ling, - Th' old fisherman had no such thing: - As fast as honest Neptune cur'd it, - That whoring rogue, that Jove, secur'd it; - For, though a god in ev'ry thing, - He was a devil at old ling. - But be that matter as it may, - By great good luck they grop'd their way - When they came near this son of Mars, - They saw him sitting on his a---, - Making such ugly faces, that - They thought him grinning for a hat; - But he, good man, upon his rump, - Was playing on a brass jew-trump, - And 'cause the music pleas'd him much, - He gap'd and grinn'd at ev'ry touch; - Only Patroclus tarried near him, - No mortal else would stay to hear him-- - Rather than stay to hear him play, - The very rats were run away. - - Just in the middle of his airs - They stole upon him unawares; - But, when he peep'd and saw them come, - He whipp'd him up from off his bum, - And clapp'd the trump into his pocket, - So quick, Ulysses thinks he broke it: - Patroclus too was on his rump, - And like him gave a sudden jump: - Achilles seiz'd 'em by their hands, - And begg'd to know their best commands: - - Welcome, old friends, to me yet dear! - Pray, what the devil brought you here? - If you are come to me for help, - From that infernal noisy whelp, - And hither trudg'd to ask my aid, - You must be hellishly afraid; - And that ye are, I need not tell ye, - Because, to speak the truth, I smell ye. - - [Illustration: Book IX, page 149. - Achilles seiz'd them by their hands, - And begg'd to know their best commands: - Welcome, old friends, to me yet dear! - Pray, what the devil brought you here?] - - At this he pointed to his tent; - They made a leg, and in they went, - Where down the heroes clapp'd their docks, - On woollen cushions stuff'd with flocks; - - Patroclus, says Achilles, you - Must know, of all the Grecian crew - I like these cocks; so do not fail - To get a pot of mild and stale - Of Dolly Pumplenose and tell her - To send the best in all the cellar. - - Patroclus ran and fetch'd the beer, - And then prepar'd for better cheer: - With a cow-heel he first began, - And fry'd it in an old brass pan; - But first he soak'd an offal piece, - To suck up all the verdigrise-- - Had he not ta'en such care, he might - Have poison'd all his friends outright; - Because from hist'ry it appears - The pan had not been us'd some years. - Automedon soon fetch'd a candle, - Then held the frying-pan by th' handle, - Whilst great Achilles fell to work - To cut some steaks of beef and pork: - Patroclus, at his friend's desire, - Made what we call a roaring fire, - At which the steaks were nicely cook'd, - Except a few a little smok'd; - Though his sharp hungry guests would not - Believe 'em smok'd, but smoking hot. - For table-cloth Pelides spread - A sheet he took from off his bed; - Then gave each man a cake of bread; - And, that the gods might have their due, - The fat into the fire he threw: - For heathen gods, if you'll inquire, - Are pleas'd when all the fat's i' th' fire. - - Then they fell on their meat and cakes, - And gobbled up the heel and steaks. - After they'd ta'en some time to drink, - To Phoenix Ajax tipp'd the wink; - Ulysses soon the signal spies - (For he kept watch with both his eyes), - Then pours a glass of ale by stealth, - And cries, Achilles, Sir, your health, - With forty thousand thanks, d'ye see, - For this your kind civility: - Great Agamemnon, smite my crupper! - Could not have cook'd a better supper. - But, though you've fill'd our skins so full - Of meat and drink, yet still we're dull, - Because the day is hardly pass'd, - That saw us all so tightly thrash'd; - And now we stand upon the brink - Of ruin, and shall surely sink - If you don't come, for I'm mistaken - If aught alive can save our bacon, - Unless you kindly will assist, - And let 'em feel your mutton fist. - Peep out, you'll see the Trojans keep - Us all coop'd up like Smithfield sheep; - They talk of singeing all our tails, - And burning both our masts and sails: - Great Jove himself, or else the devil, - Has been so very kind and civil, - As box all day on Hector's side, - And lend him strength to trim our hide-- - That Hector who the world defies, - And carries lightning in his eyes; - His stomach is so full of ire, - That when he rifts he belches fire; - We heard him plain his comrades tell - I' th' morn he'll ring our passing-bell, - And send both men and boats to hell: - It gave me such a twitch o' th' gripes, - To see the rascal deal his stripes, - I've hardly got quite clear on't yet, - And still I'm in a reeking sweat, - Lest he to-morrow morn come out, - And once more kick us all about. - Is it not very hard we must - Lay all our nobs in Trojan dust, - Because at present you don't list - To help us with your clumsy fist? - But, dear Achilles, now or never - Jump up, and smite that Hector's liver, - And you'll oblige your friends for ever: - But if you let us all be slain, - Sink me, if e'er we fight again! - No steps, my friend, that you can tread - Will help us when we're knock'd o' th' head; - Therefore in time observe, I pray, - What your old daddy us'd to say: - My son, said he, and strok'd thy locks, - Thou'rt strong enough to fell an ox; - But, for all that, keep clear of brabbling, - Or else you'll get a name for squabbling, - And then, depend, high words and high blows - Will bring you nought but kicks and dry blows; - But quiet dealings and good nature - Will please folks so, that ev'ry creature - Will say, in spite of your thick jowl, - 'Tis a good-natur'd honest soul. - But, in your wrath, if you perhaps - Should lend a man a slap o' th' chaps, - Your mutton fist will bruise his jaw - (Remember that I told you so), - For which, if you don't run away, - You'll have the surgeon's bill to pay. - If any blust'ring son of Mars - Affront you, bid him kiss your a---! - Whether he tarries then or goes off, - Don't strike him, lest you knock his nose off. - Pray do not, like a graceless knave, - Despise th' advice your daddy gave; - But, if you'll grant Atrides' prayer, - He'll give you--stop, and you shall hear - What a great gainer you'll be by't; - I have it down in black and white: - Before the elders seated round, - He nobly offers you ten pound, - Seven iron pans to boil your fish in, - And twenty chamber-pots to piss in; - He'll likewise add a dozen nags, - That soon will fill your empty bags, - By winning plates; they ha'n't been idle, - But ev'ry nag has won his bridle, - Nay, some have won a saddle too, - But of that sort there's very few; - Their pedigrees are all so good, - That few their equals are in blood; - Out of the twelve you'll find eleven - Have got a ring-bone or a spavin, - Which is the surest sign indeed - They're of the very tip-top breed: - For sev'ral of 'em you may trace - From that fam'd horse that won the race. - For great Darius, when the state - Decreed a kingdom for a plate; - And, if you sell them, Pond for you - Shall swear the pedigree is true. - Besides all this, he'll throw you in, - Of hard-bumm'd wenches that can spin, - The very lucky number seven, - Odd numbers always beat the even; - Their spinning will good money earn, - And you'll grow rich by selling yarn-- - All these he'll give you out and out, - And add the wench you fratch'd about, - And swears you someway so bewitch her, - She never yet would let him switch her. - Besides all this, when we have taken - The town, with all their eggs and bacon, - Of belly-timber you'll have plenty, - And a round dozen, if not twenty, - Plump girls; and, if on leap and trial - (Which they must take without denial) - You like 'em not, you need not choose 'em, - We'll snap 'em up, though you refuse 'em; - Then try again, if that will ease you, - Till you can find a score to please you: - And, when this job of jobs is done, - Which must, I think, be special fun, - He'll take you home and call you son: - Of all his lands the farm that best is - He'll split 'twixt you and bold Orestes. - Lastly, three daughters he can boast, - All taught to bake, and boil, and roast; - Useful i' th' parlour, hall, or kitchen, - And notable fine girls at stitching-- - Your shirts I mean, the wrists or neck, - Whether your linen's plain or check, - Which, my good friend, will be to you - Of use, and profitable too; - Because you need not then go swapping - Your smuggled tea for shirts in Wapping, - Where ware that's sound cannot be gotten, - And all their stitching-tackle rotten. - Laodice and Iphigene - Are two of these fine girls I mean; - In the sun's rays there not a beam is - So bright as red-hair'd Chrysothemis; - All three are sprightly buxom jades, - And, what's a rarity, they're maids! - These in their Sunday's yard-wide stuff, - Or, if you like 'em best, in buff, - He'll let you see, to take your choice, - Take which you will you have his voice; - And, for her portion, you'll have more - Than ****** spent upon his whore: - Further, these mighty gifts to crown, - He'll make you bailiff of a town, - Where, on a grand election year; - If you are careful, you may clear - Ten pounds, as sure as you were born, - Or twenty, for a false return: - But let this caution be your guide, - That you return the strongest side, - Else you may chance to find your pate - O' th' wrong side of an iron grate. - Likewise six villages do lie - Within this borough's liberty, - Of which, if I may gain belief. - You shall be constable in chief; - Both Pheroe and Enope too - Must then pull off their caps to you, - And you, when you think 't worth the while, - May kiss the girls of Cardamyle; - With Pedasus, whose stock of trees - Bear an estate in gooseberries. - These, join'd with Hira and Epea, - And special fields about Anthea, - All stretch along the salt-sea beach, - And very near to Pylos reach; - Where bulls, and cows, and oxen roar, - And men and women drink and whore, - And where they still continue whoring, - In spite of squinting Whitfield's roaring, - Although he deals to ev'ry station - Such thumping doses of damnation, - You'd swear he had a patent got - (As folks have done for pills and shot) - That none but Wesley, he, and Grimstone[2], - May deal in burning pitch and brimstone. - See what he offers to appease you! - The devil's in't, if he don't please you: - By prayers the hardest thing relaxes, - Nothing stands fix'd, but death and taxes. - You'll see, Achilles, what he proffers, - And troth I thought 'em handsome offers; - But if you turn a flat deaf ear - To our petition, folks will swear - Your liver is grown white with whoring, - And now you're good for nought but roaring; - From whence they fairly must conjecture - You dare not face that rascal Hector, - Who, I am hopeful, kicks us now, - Only to be re-kick'd by you. - - Achilles answers: Surely this is - A rare long speech, my friend Ulysses! - And in return I'll give you for't - A speech that, be it long or short, - Shall speak my mind--for may I sink, - If I'll say aught but what I think! - Though, if your friends expect to see - A single grain of help from me, - Tell 'em, as sure as there you sit, - They're most abominably bit. - Who one thing speaks and thinks another, - Though he were born of my own mother, - Should I not use him right, I ask all, - To d---n him for a scoundrel rascal? - And therefore all the Greeks you'll find - Will hardly make me change my mind. - On their account when Troy I spank'd, - You see how finely I got thank'd, - Your scoundrel chief must get a-stride on - The only tit I had ride on, - But on a bible book I've swore - Never to do so any more; - Ev'ry poor heartless rogue you'll stand by, - Rather than Monckton, Hawke, and Granby; - For, when a brave man tumbles down, - You'll help a scoundrel up as soon. - Pray what the devil have I got - For all the rogues I've sent to rot? - Just like that careful bird the tit, - Who never tastes a single bit, - But still keeps picking worms and scraping - Till ev'ry tit gives over gaping; - Such pains for thankless Greece I've taken. - And sav'd their measly pocky bacon; - Kept all their loving spouses' plackets - From being trimm'd by Trojan jackets; - Watch'd all the night in heavy buff, - And work'd all day at kick and cuff; - Twelve farmers' huts and barns I plunder'd, - And should, if there had been a hundred: - That thick-skull'd whelp, your gen'ral Blunder, - Came in of course for all the plunder, - Began to fill his paunch the first, - And guttled cheese-cakes till he burst: - Two dozen down his throat he switches, - Then ramm'd two dozen in his breeches. - Besides, he ev'ry kettle got, - Except one lousy porridge-pot. - And one fat wench so rarely fed, - Her cheeks as well as hair were red. - My men that fought, and won the stake, - Like those that did th' Havannah take, - Receiv'd from this great chief of Greece - 'Bout twelve or fifteen pence apiece; - He likewise gave, with much ado, - A little to the captains too, - But not so much, by far, as will - Pay half their sneaking taylors' bill; - The rest, like A****, he sent - To his own hoard; yet, not content, - His idle hours he could not pass - Without my carrot-pated lass. - Let him the buxom dame enjoy; - But what's our quarrel then with Troy[3]? - You all were sensible before - We're only fighting for a whore: - Don't wonder then, if for a harlot - You see me drub that thieving varlet. - Must Atreus' sons all wenches seize, - And trim 'em when and where they please, - Whilst we, who all their prizes won, - Must thank 'em for a butter'd bun? - Mean sneaking scrubs may go on still, - But seal my day-lights if I will! - A heart that's made of standard bullion - Will love his wench although a scullion; - Nay, though he takes a rag-mop squeezer, - He ought to do his best to please her. - I lik'd the girl, and, on my life, - Us'd her as though she'd been my wife; - And, may I never drub the French, - If I'd have parted with the wench, - But Pallas came down stairs, you know, - And order'd me to let her go! - But, once deceiv'd, I'll tell you plain. - I'll never trust a king again: - He's wrong'd me in the dearest part, - And from my soul L---d d---n his heart! - This is my mind; to mend the job - Let him consult your busy nob; - Where you can't lend a helping hand, - The devil would be at a stand. - But why the pox should he want me, - When I such mighty works can see, - With wondrous ramparts and a trench? - Surely his engineers were French! - The Greeks could never raise such works, - They'd baffle a whole host of Turks; - And yet he fears, as I conjecture, - They cannot keep out swagg'ring Hector: - When I along with Ajax steer'd, - Then no such bullying work appear'd; - These fighting Trojans kept their gates up, - And very seldom popp'd their pates up - Above their wall, but then were fain - To pop 'em quickly down again. - The mighty Hector ventur'd once - Without the gates, but sav'd his sconce - By running back into the town, - Or, by my soul, I'd crack'd his crown! - And had I still look'd sharp about, - He ne'er again had ventur'd out. - Now we no more shall think of fighting, - But soon as th' morning brings some light in, - If we can catch a leading gale, - You'll spy my lighters under sail, - And the third day, by three o'clock, - Don't fear to reach to Puddle Dock, - Where there's no doubt but we shall find - The heaps of goods I left behind, - Some rusty kettles, pots, and pans, - And half a dozen copper cans. - To these I'll add what I got here, - Earn'd by my labour plaguy dear, - With all my square-stern'd thumping jades, - By people here call'd country maids. - I lik'd but one above them all, - And that your scoundrel gen'ral stole: - Then tell him thus, and do not fear ye - To speak that all the Greeks may hear ye, - Let them all hear I call their chief - A lousy, pilf'ring, blackguard thief! - Had he but his deserts, I know - He would have swung five years ago, - And yet I've hopes to see him still - Ride in a cart--up Holborn-Hill; - For, by my soul, the rascal's knav'ry - Designs you wooden shoes and slav'ry. - Keep you but honest, and I'm sure - The scoundrel dog will keep you poor; - Although the rascal dare as well - Fetch my lord B---th's black soul from hell, - As venture into any place - Where I may see his ugly face-- - For, if he does, by G-d, I'll fell him! - And that, Ulysses, you may tell him; - And add, I neither will collogue - Nor fight along with such a rogue. - Let the poor dog, since Jove deprives him - Of sense, run where the devil drives him: - A man may be bamboozled once, - As I was, by a thick-skull'd dunce; - But if again I let it pass, - Though he's the rogue, yet I'm the ass; - From sneaking rascals full of shifts, - Tell him Achilles scorns all gifts; - Nay, though he promis'd me the whole - His rogu'ry has from others stole, - I'd rather stand to see him undone - Than have the running cash of London, - Whose money, judg'd by what they spend, - Can surely never have an end; - Yet could the sneaking scoundrel ask all - That running cash for me, the rascal - Shall ne'er have my assistance, d--n me! - Nor any chance again to flam me, - Nor will I ever kiss his daughter, - Though H*** herself had taught her - The very motions maids at court - All know will make the finest sport-- - Nay, was she all in di'monds dress'd, - And had of things the very best, - Yet, rather than with him agree, - The second-best shall serve for me; - Sooner than he my pate shall flam, - I'll marry with the devil's dam, - For I'm resolv'd to sow no seed - On such bad ground; I hate the breed! - When I go home, if God spare life, - I'll get my dad to choose a wife; - My back and parts, I'm pretty certain, - Will recommend me to a fortune; - There's scarce a girl of Thessaly - But will be glad to jump at me. - With one of these I'll join my hand, - And stay at home and plow my land, - On Sundays a good dinner cook, - Then sit and read a godly book-- - The book where Solomon the wise - A girl from ev'ry nation tries, - And found, when all his strength was past. - It was but vanity at last. - Here I can likewise mend my writing, - And leave to fools the trade of fighting. - Pray, of what use are all our cattle, - If once we're knock'd o' th' head in battle? - Not the best purl that e'er was drank, - Nor all the money in the Bank, - Not Child's great chest, with all that's in it, - Will save your life a single minute. - We may recover money lost, - Or nags when stole, on paying cost; - But if your breath you once let slip, - The devil gets you on the hip; - And he was never known to let - A sinner once escape his net, - Except a fiddler[4] of the town, - That took a hurdigurdy down, - And made such cursed noise below, - Satan was glad to let him go; - Which gave old Handel[5] room to crack, - The devil soon would send him back: - But as we've never seen him yet, - 'Tis ten to one th' old fellow's bit. - Long since a gipsy told my fortune, - That I should be demolish'd certain: - If I stay here, my life 'twill curtail, - But then my fame will be immortal; - Ballads in print shall spread my fame, - And ballad-singers roar my name: - If I go home I change my fate, - And spin out life a longer date, - Like country 'squires lie warm and snug. - And snore a hundred years incog. - This course, my friends, will I pursue, - And so, if you are wise, will you. - Seek your own homes without delay, - Nor longer here for dry blows stay, - Where nothing can be got but raps - Upon your pates, or slaps o' th' chaps; - For Jove, I'll speak it to his face, - Defends this whoring Trojan race, - Heartens them on our boats to plunder, - But scares our shabby rogues with thunder. - And now I've told you all my mind, - Pray let your loggerheads be join'd - In consultation how to 'scape - Your present most unlucky scrape. - This string has snapp'd, but you, I know, - Have always two strings to your bow, - And yet you'll find, I don't dispute, - Some auger-hole to wriggle out: - This is the answer you may carry; - So march! but let old Phoenix tarry; - I think that he should have a tomb - To lay his grizzle beard at home, - Although the old curmudgeon may - Just as he pleases, go or stay. - - This speech of speeches ending here, - Like three stuck pigs it made 'em stare; - When Phoenix rose, but first he cried, - Then wip'd his nose, before he tried - A few persuasive words to speak; - But his old pipe was grown so weak, - He did not seem to talk, but squeak: - - O great Achilles! wilt thou fly, - And leave the Greeks like rats to die? - If you in anger trudge away, - How shall your old schoolmaster stay? - When thy good daddy Peleus sent - Thee first to join the regiment, - And bid thee stay, upon condition - I bought the very first commission - (For, to our scandal be it told, - Commissions are both bought and sold), - He sent me with thee, that I might - Teach thee to bully, whore, and fight-- - Three cardinal virtues, which a brave - And jolly captain ought to have; - Which, added to a little drinking, - Will always keep his nob from thinking; - For soldiers, if they thought aright, - Would sooner far be d--d than fight - For rogues, who, when they've lost a leg, - Will hardly give them leave to beg. - But yet I always did pursue - Your father's plan in teaching you, - And flux me if I leave you now! - Not if the gods would lend their mill - To grind me young, or Doctor Hill - Would promise to keep off old age - With the grand tincture of red sage. - Then would you hear me, thrice a week, - Make chambermaids by dozens squeak. - My dad so old, he scarce could move, - Yet, with a pox, must fall in love; - My mam begg'd hard that I'd outwit him: - I did, and got the girl--so bit him. - But the old Heathen swore and curs'd, - As if his very gall would burst; - So far his passion crack'd his brain, - He pray'd I ne'er might stand again; - And sure I am, as you are there, - The devil help'd his wicked prayer. - I was damn'd vex'd, a man may swear, - To find myself so very queer, - That though I did on jellies sup, - I ne'er could make affairs look up, - And thought, so prone are we to evil, - To send th' old rascal to the devil; - But some kind goblin stay'd that thought, - So all my anger came to nought. - Then I would fly, aye, that I would, - Let all my friends do what they could: - Nine suns they watch'd me night and day - On the tenth eve I ran away - With a blind tinker, whose good metal - Had mended many a crazy kettle, - But grown less able now to trudge it, - I undertook to lug the budget; - And thus with eighteen-pence a-piece, - We took our travels through all Greece. - Many a merry day we pass'd, - And weather'd many a bitter blast, - And many a merry night, when tipsy, - We pigg'd in straw with each a gipsy: - At last, without a single sous, - We reach'd your daddy's old farm-house, - Who did to stay with him persuade me, - And dry-nurse to his son he made me; - Gave me a sal'ry for my keeping, - And patch'd the calf-crib up to sleep in. - Finding I had a taste to rule, - He made me master of a school, - To teach, as I could do it well, - The farmers' chub-fac'd boys to spell. - And 'faith your dad I amply paid - By making you so fine a blade-- - Though you cut such a puff, d'ye see, - You'd been a noodle but for me. - That I my time could ne'er employ - On a more hopeful loving boy - Is true, and nought but truth I'll say; - It made me chuckle ev'ry day - To hear the little varlet mutter, - Unless I cut his bread and butter; - Often upon my knee he'd doze, - And puke his milk upon my clothes, - Which I rubb'd off as soon as done, - As if the lad had been my son: - I thought, or may the dry pox rot me! - The devil had at last forgot me, - And, spite of my old father's curse, - I was thy dad, and not thy nurse: - You'll hardly think the joy I had - In rearing such a hopeful lad. - Come, don't be cross, but dry our tears, - A valiant heart no malice bears; - When man repents and turns from evils, - He moves all hearts except the devil's; - Therefore, if you don't take our part, - You've got the devil of a heart. - The wicked Jews themselves once sent - Such prayers as made their god repent-- - Prayers made him do it, though he knew - They were a cursed wicked crew, - And would, before the week was spent, - Make him on t'other side repent: - Our prayers are slow because they're lame, - For which the parsons are to blame, - Who might have taught us to repeat - Prayers with much better legs and feet, - Howe'er they make a shift to follow - Injustice with a whoop and hollow. - Although this fiery headlong madam, - Injustice, 'mongst the sons of Adam - Makes cursed work, yet prayers can heal - The mischiefs that she makes them feel: - And he that won't their voices hear, - Jove often makes him pay full dear; - For then at private man or king - He lets Injustice take her swing, - And, that no mortal may resist her, - Lends her a lawyer to assist her. - Then cease, my boy, to curse and swear, - And hear our lamentable prayer: - Had not the gen'ral made submission, - May I be sous'd to all perdition, - If I'd have spoke a single sentence. - In hopes to bring thee to repentance! - For, had not Fortune, ever fickle, - Now left him in a stinking pickle, - Not twenty guineas, I assure you, - Should make me plead against your fury; - But since he offers you so fairly, - And decks his presents out so rarely, - And since these curious things, d'ye see, - Are sent by no less man than me, - I would not have you shun the offer, - You'll ne'er refuse a better proffer; - And, lest you fail to nick the joint, - I'll just relate a case in point: - - Upon a steep and rocky mountain - Stands Calydon, beside a fountain; - Th' Æolians strove to take the rock, - And awarded many a bitter knock - From the Curetians; thus they hourly - Kept basting one another purely: - 'Twas Cynthia's doing all: but whether - She set 'em by the ears together - For cheating her of some good suppers, - Or bumping one another's cruppers, - Like Sodom's sons, I can't, I vow, - Explain that matter clearly now; - But something set her so agig, - She sent a monstrous great he-pig, - That swallow'd ev'ry thing he found - Either above or under ground, - Tore their potatoes up by th' roots, - And all their apple-trees to boots, - And made no bones of sheep or geese, - But swallow'd feathers, horns, and fleece-- - This pig, no matter where 'twas bred, - Dick Meleager knock'd o' th' head; - Then all the bumpkins round came in, - And box'd like devils for the skin, - Brought out their pokers, spits, and ladles, - To gain the skin to make 'em saddles. - The bold Curetes, who had fully - Resolv'd to baste this kill-pig bully, - Got rarely 'nointed; then he swore - A bloody oath he'd fight no more, - But go and lead a quiet life - With dame Alcyone his wife. - Idas, her father, though a civil - And well-bred man, would box the devil; - Marpasa was her mother's name, - A handsome jolly country dame. - Now that trim singing rogue Apollo, - This Idas' handsome wife did follow, - And one dark foggy night, when all - The family were out of call, - Jumbled her up against a wall. - Finding no help was nigh her, she - For that time took it patiently: - But, because Idas did not choose - To be a quiet Cheapside spouse, - And let him round his freehold range - To do his bus'ness whilst at 'Change - I mean the business of his wife-- - He plagu'd poor Idas all his life. - Very fine principles, you'll say, - Their godships had that time o' day; - For, bad as we are all, 'tis true, - They're thought vile rogues that do so now. - But Alethea, though his mother, - Because he chanc'd to kill her brother, - With cursing such a noise did keep, - He could not get a wink of sleep; - Legions of fiends her curses drew, - She curs'd till all the ground look'd blue, - And set up such a shrill-ton'd yell, - They plainly heard her voice in hell; - Her curses gave him such a diz'ness - It made him quite neglect his bus'ness, - And spend his mornings, noons, and nights, - At Mother Welch's, or at White's. - Etolia, woefully oppress'd, - And to the last degree distress'd - By foes all round, entreats his aid, - And sent a swingeing long parade - Of aldermanic wigs and gowns, - Collected from the neighb'ring towns; - And, for a wonder, he that led - This sweeping train had got a head: - They begg'd he'd come, with piteous tones, - And break their adversaries' bones, - And would he prove a good peace-maker, - They'd freely give him fifty acre - Of as brave land as ever bore - A pile of grass, or crow flew o'er: - But in these times they durst not mention - So vile an epithet as pension. - His father came and made a bow, - And all his sisters curtsy'd too: - The cursing dame before him stood; - But, as for her, he damn'd her blood, - As any man of spirit would: - His wife came last, and rubb'd her eye, - Then tun'd her pipe, and join'd the cry; - Told him, if he won't come away, - The devil soon must be to pay-- - So fast, says she, the ruin spreads, - There soon must be a smash of heads; - For when the men's hard heads are smack'd, - The maiden-heads will soon be crack'd, - And all the virgins in the town - Expect they shall be ravish'd soon: - If therefore you'll this time preserve 'em, - At any time they'll let you serve 'em, - And promise that they will not squeak, - Though you should ravish ten a-week: - But they would have you take great care, - You do not touch a single hair - Of Polly W-dc-k, lest some quack, - With brazen face and conscience black, - Should swear that he can tell by th' mark, - Whether you kiss'd her in the dark, - Or by broad day-light, and if she - Kick'd hard, or took it patiently. - - At this he grasp'd his stick, and soon - Broke all their bones, and sav'd the town. - But 'cause his coming was so tardy, - These same Etolians grew fool-hardy; - And though he say'd both priest and church, - They left their saviour in the lurch; - Just as the bishops left their maker, - And shunn'd the passage through Long Acre, - 'Tis dang'rous, cries each wary chap, - To venture through the Devil's Gap[6], - The houses on both sides are all - So old, that, like the Duke, they'll fall, - And crush, perhaps, each reverend sot - That runs where nothing's to be got; - And Satan, always on the watch - The sons of any church to catch, - Dines rarely when his cook can dish up - A rev'rend brawny well-fed bishop. - - But to return: From this great strait - Pray help us ere it be too late; - Your arm will stand us in no stead - After we all are knock'd o' th' head; - Assist us, therefore, ere we faint, - And you shall be a popish saint. - I ask'd the Pope if he knew where - To find a day from saintship clear? - He answer'd No, but he would make - Some shift or other for your sake; - Not doubting but amongst the crew - To find a bigger rogue than you-- - If so, says he, 'twill be no sin - To kick him out, and put you in. - - Achilles then returns this answer: - My ever-honour'd nurse and grandsire, - You know I'm us'd to make a shift, - And therefore want no bribe or gift: - If Jove and I are cater-cozens, - The Greeks may hang themselves by dozens! - If he thinks fit, I here will lag - As long as I a toe can wag, - Or go wherever he shall lug me, - But your old pate shall ne'er humbug me; - Therefore no more attempt to bubble - Your loving friend, and give him trouble, - For such a rogue as that Atrides, - A scoundrel dog, whose greatest pride is - To cheat and pilfer all he can, - And plunder every honest man! - I little thought, old friend, not I, - You could for such a rascal cry; - Whether small beer or ale we drink, - My friend like me should always think; - In this 'tis honest to collogue - To hate a dirty sneaking rogue; - The very fellow that would do - Mischief to me, would hamstring you, - Because, when Peleus dies, he knows - Half of my farm and cattle goes - To you by promise.--So, Ulysses, - Go tell your spitfire gen'ral this is - My firm resolve, at break of day - Either to stay or go away.-- - - Then orders, as these words he said, - A pan of coals for Phoenix' bed. - Now, you must know, this fine oration - Put Ajax in a bitter passion; - Blast my old boots, says he, but this is - A mighty pretty job, Ulysses! - We're sent by our wise-looking owls, - Only to make us April fools: - See what we've got for all our pain! - Rot me if e'er I'll cringe again! - No speech that we can make will stir him, - Were we to stay till doomsday for him: - Therefore 'tis proper we should go, - Whether they like his words or no, - And tell our friends the fine pallabber - That we just now have heard him jabber-- - I'm sure that they, this foggy morn, - Are gaping hard for our return; - You see he is on mischief bent-- - Such harden'd sinners ne'er repent: - His cronies and old secret-keepers - He minds no more than chimney-sweepers; - Yet, smite my eyes! if any other - Should in a squabble lose a brother, - All the amends that's in folks' power - Is made, and people, ask no more! - If an own father lose his son, - As very oft, God knows, is done, - Should the damn'd rogue who did the deed - Chance to be rich enough to bleed - A good round sum, and comes to shake it, - The people make the father take it. - The hardest hearts but thine relent, - And money makes a judge repent; - But Jove has given thee a heart - Made of a plank of Pharaoh's cart: - One wench was stole, but what of that? - He offers seven full as fat, - And fatter too, for all these wenches - Have broader buttocks by some inches, - With flesh so firm, without a hum, - I'd undertake upon the bum - Of any of those girls (d'ye see?) - To beat a march, or crack a flea. - Come then, and be of better temper, - And don't be cross and sulky semper, - Else we shall say you give a bit - Of roast, and baste us with the spit; - Which sure must vex us to the heart, - Because we always take your part-- - So much, that when poor scoundrels rail - At your cross phiz, we seldom fail - Either to knock the rascals down, - Or with a broomstick crack their crown-- - A rare short method I found out - To finish any long dispute. - - Achilles thus: My bully rock, - Of all the Greeks the boldest cock, - In a bad cause you beat by far - Pitt's speeches for a German war: - But it won't do, a man's that's wise - Will never be humbugg'd by lies. - Such lies as from his tongue were sent - To hum the British P---------. - Besides, there's nought can vex me worse - Than to refuse my good old nurse: - But when that fellow's name I hear, - Spite of my guts my tongue will swear, - So much the rascal does provoke me, - My passion rises fit to choak me, - And would, but that we Grecians are - Such sons of freedom that we dare, - Like English mob, do any thing, - Blaspheme our God, or d--n our king. - The usage I have had much worse is - Than Oxford scholars use hack-horses: - Cheated, because he chose to rob me, - And now sends you, my friends, to bob me. - But flux my hide if you shall do it! - I knew the dog would live to rue it! - Then tell the whelp, and tell him plain, - I'll never lift my hand again - Till Hector and his roaring crew - Have thump'd your sides all black and blue; - When all your boats in flames are crackling, - I'll stir to save my own old tackling; - And whilst with joy the Trojan chuckles, - Just then I'll make him feel my knuckles. - - At this he put the mug about, - And begg'd they'd see the liquor out. - To keep their souls from growing dull - Each took a pretty hearty pull; - Then swash'd the leavings of that round - For a libation on the ground-- - A method I have heard folks say - Our chairmen use to this good day. - This done, they made a bow, and went - Full speed to find the gen'ral's tent. - - In the mean time a strapping jade, - Achilles call'd his chamber-maid, - Spread on the ground for this old sinner - Some sheep-skins borrow'd from a skinner, - Of blankets then she brought a pair - Full of great holes, and quite thread-bare, - But yet they were, though bitter bad, - The very best Achilles had; - Howe'er, to keep th' old Grecian snug, - From her own bed she spar'd a rug, - With bugs, and grease, and sweat so full, - It kept th' old soul as warm as wool; - For he, in less than half an hour, - Began to crack, and snort, and snore, - So loud, I'll take my oath the sound - Was heard at least a furlong round. - - Achilles, maugre all his roaring, - Kept the best room himself to snore in, - Where stripping off his clothes with speed he - Whipp'd into bed to Diomede, - A Yorkshire girl, whose awkward motion - So pleas'd the whelp, that I've a notion - He better lik'd to sleep with her - Than the fat jade they squabbled for. - Patroclus' bed was warm'd the last, - And he his nights in pleasure pass'd - By a fair maiden's side call'd Iphis, - Where no such jars as with a wife is: - This girl was well content to share it, - And took it just as he could spare it; - For early in the morn she never - Cry'd, Lord! my dear, you'll sleep for ever! - - Now Ajax and Ulysses put - The best leg forward to the hut, - Where the old soakers still kept drinking - To drown all cares care--comes by thinking: - Each man with glass in hand they found, - Standing to drink one bumper round; - One bumper more to crown the rest, - In English call'd the very best; - But, though the meaning is the same, - In Greek it bears another name; - I think my master, Doctor Busby, - Us'd to pronounce it polioflusby. - Great Agamemnon spy'd 'em coming, - And bid 'em speak, and not stand humming, - On this sly Ithacus replies, - Smite all my limbs, and blast my eyes, - If such a fellow e'er was seen - As your queer fellow where we've been! - The more we pray, the more he swears, - And grins to see us hang our ears. - Because you said we should not want - His aid, he vow'd he would not grant - To such a noisy brangling whelp - As you, a single grain of help; - And swore, unless it was your brother, - On earth there was not such another - D---d blackguard scoundrel left alive-- - The rest were hang'd in forty-five: - But what need he for help to call, - Whose clapper can outscold them all? - For when his tongue has once begun, - He'll make a Thames-street fish-wife run. - King Solomon himself doth say - A scolding woman any day - Can drive an enemy away: - Now he that can in any weather - Outscold a dozen brims together, - Can surely make that Trojan whelp, - That Hector, run without my help; - Therefore i' th' morn when up you get, - Depend you'll see my mainsail set, - And if you've any prudence, you - Will hoist your lighters mainsail too; - For Jove, I speak it to his face, - Defends this whoring Trojan race: - He'll save these rascals from a scouring, - Because they, like himself, love whoring. - - These were his words, what more appear'd - Both Ajax and the beadles heard; - But Phoenix in his tent he keeps, - Where for this night th' old fellow sleeps, - Though in the morn, he told us so, - He'll give him leave to stay or go: - Then added, Though you should escape - Without his help from this d----d scrape, - And save your hide from being bang'd, - He hopes to live to see you hang'd. - - Ulysses ceas'd: the congregation - Seem'd in a dreadful consternation; - Their eyes show'd nothing but the whites, - Like Wesley and his Culamites; - A look of horror spread all o'er 'em, - As if they saw hell-fire before 'em, - And Satan with a sable pack - Of long-tail'd devils at their back. - Ready with pitchforks to begin - To push them all by dozens in;When - up the bold Tydides sprung, - And in a twinkling found his tongue - (No stamm'ring orator would do, - A nimble tongue was wanting now): - So wild the Greeks began to stare, - He saw there was no time to spare; - So sprang up nimbly from his seat, - And found at once his tongue and feet: - - Why should we sneak, and beg, and pray, - As if we had no other way? - This man with pride will crack his guts, - To him our prayers are eggs and nuts; - And to proud puppies, I am clear, - The more you pray, the more they swear. - Have you not done, Sir, all you can do - And pray what more can Ferdinando? - Let him, since so much wrath attends him, - Sit sulky till the devil mends him; - Let him, since it belikes him well, - Stay where he is, or go to hell! - We have it in our power to show - Well do as much as men can do: - Therefore, to put us in good plight - For boxing, let us drink all night, - Boose it about to drown all sorrow, - Boxing will make us cool to-morrow. - Soon as the sun the welkin graces, - He'll find a sun in all our faces, - Painted so red with humming ale, - We'll make his fiery face look pale; - The god will stand amaz'd to think - Such virtue lies in mortal drink; - Nor shall he catch us without coats, - But looking sharp before the boats: - And you, Atrides, in the front - For once must stand and bear the brunt; - For once, I say, we hope you'll do't, - It is not oft we put you to't. - - This speech produc'd a mighty shout, - Whilst Diom. push'd the mug about: - They drank; then, rolling on the floor, - Began like aldermen to snore. - - - - [1] Thrasymede. - - [2] This Grimstone is a preaching shoemaker, and as fine a fellow as -either of the other two brimstone-merchants; but less known, because he -is confined to a small circle in the country. - - [3] Pope. - - [4] Orpheus. - - [5] Handel, to make as much noise as possible, introduced cannon into a -concert. - - [6] Through the Devil's Gap was the way to the Duke of Newcastle's. - - - - - THE TENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Finding that no Achilles comes, - Poor Agamemnon bites his thumbs; - And though his heavy eyes kept winking, - He could not steal a nod for thinking - How he from this unlucky scrape - Might with his ragged rogues escape: - For as says he, our woeful pickle - Requires that ev'ry man should stickle, - Why should our Grecian lazy dogs - Keep snoring like distillers' hogs, - Whilst I for gen'ral good am watching, - And flaying all my rump with scratching? - So up he gets, sans more ado, - And sends the cuckold Menelau - To bring their comrades all together, - That they might club their noddles, whether - They ought, in this great strait, to stay, - Or take good start and ran away. - A council call'd, they send from thence - Two spies, to <i>steal</i> intelligence; - And <i>steal</i> they did for, by their prize, - You'd swear he sent two Yorkshire spies, - For, after stealing sev'ral purses, - They stole a special pair of horses. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK X. - - - - The Greeks, though sorely drubb'd all day, - Asleep before their scullers lay-- - All but poor Agamemnon, who - Could only nod a spell or so. - Distracted with a thousand fears - How to get off and save his ears, - His fears did such a rumbling keep - Within his guts, he could not sleep. - As when a barrel of small-beer, - No matter whether foul or clear, - Begins to leak, drop follows drop - As fast as wanton schoolboys hop: - So quick this valiant Greek kept sighing. - At last he fairly fell a-crying; - Then, with a face of rueful length, - Peep'd up to spy the Trojans' strength; - When, to his wondrous great amaze, - He saw a thousand bonfires blaze, - And heard so plain the Trojans f--t, - It vex'd him to the guts and heart - To think the rogues were got so near, - That he their very ----s could hear; - Which sound he hated full as much - As Britons do the belching Dutch. - Whilst he was grunting in dispute - To hang himself or fight it out, - He almost lugg'd, at one smart pull - A pound of carrots from his skull; - But finding that did little good, - He fell to praying as he stood. - Just as his second prayer begun, - Thinks he, By G-d, we're all undone, - If Nestor can't the Trojans nick - By some old square-toe'd slipp'ry trick! - On which he wrapp'd his calf's-hide in - A jacket made of lion's skin, - And then put on a pair of shoes, - Such as St. Giles's statesmen use, - With scarce a sole to keep out weather, - And forty holes i' th' upper leather. - - His brother likewise found his tripes - Most sorely twisted with the gripes, - Because the very Greeks that came - To fetch away his light-heel'd dame - Were drawn into so bad a lay - They could not fetch themselves away - To think they'd got in such a trap, - Disturb'd the honest Spartan's nap: - So out of bed in haste he got, - And quickly found the chamber-pot, - And whilst he made a little water, - Took time to think about the matter; - For his schoolmaster, Peter Ashley, - Had taught him to do nothing rashly. - When this important job was done, - He put his greasy breeches on; - Next button'd, underneath his chin, - A very fierce-look'd leopard-skin; - Then took a broomstick in his hand, - And trudg'd away along the strand - To call his elder brother up; - When, lo! he found the squabbling tup - Rear'd up against his lighter's side - Twisting a string, with which he tied - A rusty hanger to his side. - - To him the Spartan thus began: - What makes you put your dudgeon on? - D' you think of sending out some spy - This dark and dismal night, to try - Whether the Trojans watch are keeping, - Or pay great idle whelps for sleeping? - But who the pox d'ye think will mote - This dismal night? Not I, by Jove! - The hardiest rogue in Fielding's gang, - At such a task an a--e would hang. - - The king replies: O Menelaus, - I fear these Trojan rogues will pay us - Both scot and lot for all our tricks, - And baste us with their crabtree sticks. - When cases, like our case, are bad, - The best of counsel must be had: - Therefore, besides both ---- and M--n, - Above all things secure us N----n: - Unless he's for us, d--n my blood - If Beelzebub can do us good: - For if on t'other side you place him, - You know the devil cannot face him: - And Jove, you see, denies us help, - But lends it to that Trojan whelp. - Would ever man believe that one - Could smoke us all as he has done? - But yesterday that blust'ring scrub, - What heaps of serjeants did he drub! - The Sun, before his link went out, - Saw how he kick'd us all about; - And yet, like yours and mine, the bitch - His dam was never thought a witch; - Nor is his dad, that queer old cur, - A wizard, or a conjurer: - Yet unborn Greeks, before they're gotten, - Shall wish the rascal dead and rotten, - Because his laming all our nation - Will make a limping generation. - Don't stand a moment to consider, - But send me bully Ajax hither; - Next hasten to Idomeneus, - And hurry him away to see us: - To Nestor I will go before ye; - He's telling some long trimtram story, - Such as at any time he'll make - To keep the drunken watchmen wake; - For that's his task to-night, and there - I'm sure th' old cock will show his care; - But more especially that entry - Where Merion and his son stand sentry. - - Thus spoke the king; and Menelau - Replies: Pray, brother, when I go, - And all your orders safely carry, - Must I return, or must I tarry? - - Tarry, be sure, replies the brother, - We else shall miss of one another; - The night is rather thick than clear, - And candles are excessive dear; - The very last half-pound we bought - You fetch'd yourself, and paid a groat. - Resides, our lantherns were, you know, - All broke to shatters long ago; - But we must shift without 'em. Now, - What I would recommend to you - Is, all our ragged rogues to cheer, - Tell 'em what whelps their fathers were: - For us, since things so bad are got, - We e'en must work, or go to pot; - Jove has decreed that man must labour, - And kings by chance must help their neighbour: - In former days 'twas often done, - But now as often let alone: - Necessity has driv'n me to't, - Or I'd as soon be hang'd as do't. - - Away then Agamemnon goes: - But first he clapp'd within his jaws - A plug of Hobson's best tobacco, - Then found old Nestor in a cracko; - Stretch'd in his hammock snug he found him, - With clubs, oak-sticks, and broomstaves round him; - Like an old coachman, who, unable - To drive, yet loves the smell o' th' stable, - Th' old firelock on his guard did keep, - A sprite, called Fear, prevented sleep; - He lean'd his head upon his hand. - And call'd aloud, Plague on you, stand! - Say, who the pox are you that keep - Strolling about whilst folks should sleep? - Perhaps you're some poor hungry thief, - Whose nose has smelt my leg of beef: - If so, you've nos'd it mighty soon, - 'Twas only bak'd this afternoon. - Or do you hunt some other prey, - Or seek some sentry run away? - Be who you will, it will undo ye - If I should make the moon shine through ye. - - Then Agamemnon thus replies: - I'll tell thee all without disguise; - And thou, in whom our nation glories - For telling Canterbury stories, - Shalt hear a tale as lamentable - As any thou thyself art able - To find in all thy endless budget; - With patience listen then, and judge it: - For curs'd ill fortune now astride is - Across the back of poor Atrides; - And Jove resolves, though e'er so stout. - With rubs and cuffs to wear him out; - On my tir'd knees my body rocks, - My heart against my liver knocks; - On fifty things I poring keep, - But cannot get a wink of sleep, - And find myself so plaguy queer, - I'm neither easy here nor there, - But dying with the mullygrubs - Because the Greeks have met such rubs. - Now, if thy cunning nob should teem - With any pretty likely scheme, - How to repair this last day's scrubbing, - And save us such another drubbing, - Give us your good advice with speed-- - A friend in need's a friend indeed-- - And then, old buff, we'll go together - To hearten those who're watching whether - These damn'd infernal Trojan tartars - May not by night beat up our quarters. - - Th' old cock replies, I've often said it, - You must give Jove a little credit; - He's sometimes cross, but, all together, - He best can rule both wind and weather: - This Hector, though he hector now, - God help his soul! what will he do - When bold Achilles comes to fight him? - I'll answer for't, he'll soon b-sh-te him. - Be that as't may, just here I stand - Your humble servant at command; - But let us summon for this bout - Some other bucks to help us out; - That canting lying rogue Ulysses, - At such a woeful pinch as this is, - Will help us greatly with his cunning; - Then bold Oileus, fam'd for running; - There's Meges too, a strong-back'd whelp, - With Diomede, will lend us help. - But let some other spark, d'ye see, - With nimbler heels than you or me, - Run to the other end o' th' fleet, - And call the constable of Crete, - With bully Ajax, or some other: - I'll rouse that drowsy whelp your brother, - And hear what lame excuse he'll make - For snoring when he should awake. - Now, as these broils were of his brewing, - He ought to do what you are doing, - Should keep himself upon the peep, - And share in work as well as sleep; - For, at this dreadful pinch of pinches, - We all are lost if one man flinches. - - To whom the king: Without dispute - You're often right, but now you're out; - My brother is, to speak the truth, - A very modest, harmless youth, - And ne'er presumes to take the lead, - Because he knows that I'm the head: - But when his leader shows the way, - He's always ready to obey. - You blame him oft, which you are right in, - For loving whoring more than fighting, - Although 'tis what we all delight in. - But yesterday's confounded scramble - So made his great and small guts wamble - He could not lie in bed, not he, - So up he got, and call'd on me; - Then posted forward, with intention - To rouse the very whelps you mention; - And whilst we idly here are prating, - I'll hold a tester they are waiting - At th' alehouse underneath the wall, - Where I a council bade them call, - And speak some hot-pots for us all. - There they may sit secure and snug, - The watchmen for a single mug - Will look so sharp, you need not fear 'em, - They'll let no Trojan rogues come near 'em. - - Hot-pots! says Nestor. By Apollo, - If that's the case, we'll quickly follow: - I'll in a twinkling put my coat on: - These jobs, the moment they are thought on, - Should be perform'd as soon as told, - Or else the hot-pots may grow cold. - - With that his gummy eyes he washes, - And cas'd his legs in spatterdashes, - Then on his arms began to pull - An old red waistcoat lin'd with wool; - And ere he left the tent he took - A sapling of the toughest oak. - Then through the drowsy crowd he pass'd, - And call'd Ulysses out in haste; - Ulysses starting heard his voice, - And ran to see who made such noise. - - Old dad, says Ithacus, I'm sorry - To find your beard in such a hurry; - You must be in a woeful fright - To wander out so late at night; - Those scoundrel rogues of reformation, - The pest of ours and ev'ry nation, - Durst hardly, though so vile a crew, - Disturb so grave a man as you. - - When Nestor answers: Our bad station - Requires indeed a reformation: - But though thy cunning pate, Ulysses, - To trace out knowledge seldom misses, - In whatsoever shape she dwells, - As folks guess eggs by seeing shells; - Yet now you're plaguy wide o' th' mark: - For, let me tell you, ev'ry spark - Of rogu'ry in your crafty nob - We want to mend this last day's job; - All the calves' brains that Jove e'er gave us, - Must be employ'd this night to save us. - We must, 'fore George! before 'tis day, - Resolve to fight, or run away: - And if it should be found, upon - A consultation, we should run, - As I am fearful we must mog off, - The sooner then, my friends, we jog off - The better; for when folks depart - Incog. they always choose good start. - - The moment that Ulysses heard - This speech from honest grizzle-beard, - He turn'd upon his heel, and went - To fetch his pot-lid from his tent, - Made of a curious old coach-pannel, - Painted without, and lin'd with flannel; - Then join'd the noble captains twain, - And trotted with them o'er the plain. - Quickly bold Diomede they found - Close by his tent, upon the ground, - With all his bloods and bucks around: - But that no man would trust him much, - The figure of his crew was such, - You'd think the chief had got a pack - Of bailiff's followers at his back. - In spite of fear they slept secure, - A mile, at least, you'd hear 'em snore; - Around the circle stood a row - Of broomstaves, stuck upright for show. - The honest Grecian, void of pride, - Lay snug upon an old cow-hide, - And for a pillow roll'd a piece - Of linsey-woolsey brought from Greece; - Old goody Nestor with his foot - Gave him a d---d hard kick o' th' gut - To wake him, but could hardly do't; - Then halloos to the snoring tup: - For God's sake fall a-getting up! - How can you lie, you sleepy dog, - Snoring like Farmer Blake's fat hog? - Whilst all your comrades, though they're drunk so, - Can't get a wink of sleep they funk so - Because Troy's rogues on yonder hill - Can lug your ears just when they will. - - Tydides, in a mighty pother, - Pull'd one eye open, then the other; - Then to old grey-beard 'gan to swear, - D--n your old soul! what brought you here? - If 'tis resolv'd no man shall sleep, - But ev'ry buck on guard must keep, - Send younger puppies to awake 'em, - Your gouty legs can't undertake 'em; - They sleep so sound that you must kick 'em, - Or take a corking pin to prick 'em. - - Nestor replies; My friend, d'ye see, - I thank you for your care of me: - I might, I know, have got my son - To do what I've at present done, - Or, if no better could be had, - They offer'd me the butcher's lad; - But matters now so bad are grown, - That we no noddles but our own - Can trust; affairs are out of joint, - We stand upon a needle's point, - And therefore each in this disaster - Must show himself a balance-master, - Like Prussia's king; for in this jumble - If we don't stand we're sure to tumble. - Yet, as you think I'm grown too old - To trudge about in nights so cold, - So soon as you have don'd your brogues - Jog off, and rouse the other rogues: - Thy nimbler heels may useful be; - Serving the state, is serving me. - By different roads men serve the state, - Some ply their heels, and some their pate: - When jobs are doing for the court, - And statesmen fear that ayes run short, - Some loon's employ'd t' amuse the house - With a fine speech not worth a louse, - Asks if the king bestow'd that post on - A proper man, to make the most on - The pious canting knaves at Boston; - Or if the India Company - This year must pay another fee; - Whilst S--l--n's nimble heels begin - To fetch the ayes by dozens in, - Searches all holes, you need not fear him, - And ev'ry bawdy-house that's near him, - Takes no excuse, but makes them limp in, - And leave all bus'ness, though they're pimping. - - [Illustration: Book X, page 232. - Away to Meges' tent he steers, - And laid fast hold on both his ears, - Gave his cod's-head a hearty shake, - Then kick'd the lesser Ajax 'wake.] - - He said; when lo! the valiant knight - Jump'd from his cow-skin bolt upright; - Then with a wooden skewer did pin - Across his back a shaggy skin, - Which he had plunder'd in great wrath - From an old lion starv'd to death; - Then grasp'd a cudgel in his hand, - And scour'd full speed along the strand. - Away to Meges' tent he steers, - And laid fast hold on both his ears, - Gave his cod's head a hearty shake, - Then kick'd the lesser Ajax' wake, - Help'd 'em to fumble on their shoes, - Then hied to the place of rendezvous, - A penny pot-house, known by all, - And by 'em call'd the Hole i' th' Wall. - - And now the chiefs approach'd the gate - Where twenty ragged sentries sat, - A sharp look-out the knaves did keep, - Fear would not let them fall asleep. - Thus have I seen, if right I judge it, - A cur-dog guard a tinker's budget; - The thief to steal the budget tries, - Yet cannot gain the weighty prize: - Turn as he may, do what he will, - The mongrel guards the budget still: - Just so these loons at ev'ry sound - Would whip their eyes and ears around; - Though the least noise did so affright 'em, - It made the better half besh--e 'em. - Old Nestor joy'd to find 'em wake, - And each man by the hand did shake; - Though, had his nose been worth the keeping, - He soon had smelt what barr'd their sleeping: - However, at his usual rate - The good old soul began to prate: - - My boys, says he, if thus you watch, - These Trojan rogues will meet their match: - But if you slack your hands a jot, - I'll venture to be hang'd or shot - if ev'ry soul don't go to pot! - - Just as he spoke, this queer old bitch - Gave a great jump across the ditch; - His comrades follow'd on a heap, - Some straddled o'er, but most did leap-- - All but great Ajax, slow and stout, - He tumbled in, then rumbled out: - Last Merion came in mighty fuss, - Join'd with that whelp Antilochus. - A place they found, which all that day - Had shar'd but little cudgel-play, - The very spot, as we conjecture, - Where Mistress Night stopp'd bully Hector; - And had he not been so o'ertaken, - Nought could have say'd the Grecians' bacon - Nor would he, since he'd got his hand in, - Have left a single Grecian standing: - No other spot on all the plains - Was free from blood, and mud, and brains. - Here they sat down, when Nestor's tongue - Its usual kind of larum rung. - - Is there, says he, a heart of oak - 'Mongst us, is there a bully rock - Dares steal into the Trojan camp, - Without the aid of link or lamp, - To seize some straggler in the dark, - Or listen, and their counsel mark, - Whether they think we've got enough, - Or still design to work our buff? - This could he learn, and tell our peers, - And safe return with both his ears, - What an amazing share of glory - Would fall to him in future story, - When good old wives shall tell the tale - O'er roasted eggs and butter'd ale! - Beside, his country would bestow - A quarter guinea, if not two; - And he should always have th' first cut on - Our Sunday's leg of rotten mutton. - - He spoke; when lo! the goddess Fear - Bid with so pale a face appear, - It made 'em look confounded queer, - All but the bold Tydides, who - Brawls out, By Jupiter I'll go, - In spite of your pale phiz, and try - What weighty matters I can spy: - Within my breast a spirit lies, - That tells me I shall steal some prize - Not such a spright as moves the quaker - To preach to sister Ruth, then take her - Into some private place and shake her-- - Mine is a knowing honest spright, - As true as Highland second-sight. - But though I'm not afraid, yet mind me, - A trusty comrade you must find me, - Because, by ev'ry fool 'tis known, - Two heads are twice as good as one: - When one stands forward, one abaft, - They spy all matters, fore and aft: - What's right ahead I need but mind, - My friend looks sharp to all behind. - Then if we fall into a scrape, - We help each other to escape; - When one poor thief goes out alone, - I've known him like a devil run, - And burst himself, before he feels - There's nought but conscience at his heels: - But when there's two, we know for certain - A scoundrel can a scoundrel hearten. - If that's the case with thieves, pray then, - What won't it do for honest men? - - The moment this harangue was done, - Up jump'd the captains ev'ry one: - For, as one man was only wanted, - That each would 'scape they took for granted. - I'll go, says bully Ajax, d--n me! - And I, says little Ajax, slam me! - Cries Merion, with a furious nod, - I'll venture my calf-skin, by G-d! - Then roar'd out chatt'ring Nestor's son, - Sowse my old pluck but I'll make one! - At which the cuckold Menelau - Shrugg'd up his breeks, and swore he'd go. - That crafty dog, Ulysses, knowing - Great odds would be against his going. - Puts on his fighting face, and cries, - I'll take my chance, boys, smite my eyes! - When thus great Agamemnon bellows, - Now, by my soul, you're clever fellows! - But the bold Diomede himself - Must point us out what sturdy elf - Will likeliest be to stand the test, - And back his knotty pate the best. - Therefore, sans favour and affection, - Take thou, my boy, thy own election; - 'Twixt man and man, pay thou no def'rence, - Nor give to any lord the pref'rence, - Unless it suit thy own accord, - But not because he is a lord; - For you, as well as I, can scan - Ribands and stars can't make a man; - A lord will never prove your friend. - Unless you can yourself defend; - If you're in want of help, he's sure - To bid his porter shut the door. - The gen'ral thus his fears did smother, - Lest he should choose his loving brother. - - Then thus says Diomede the steady, - My lord, I've made my choice already; - Nor think my judgement much amiss is, - When I declare I choose Ulysses. - They tell me I have spunk enough, - But he can plot as well as cuff, - Which makes the Trojans more afraid - Of his queer noddle than his blade. - Guarded by such a bold defender - I'll face Old Nick, or, if he'll send her, - Get twins upon the witch of Endor. - - Ulysses cries, My friend, hush! hush! - You'll make a modest fellow blush; - None but a courtier, or his Grace, - Can bear such praising to his face. - But whilst we chatter thus and prate, - We never dream it grows so late; - White streaks the blueish sky do wrinkle, - And the north star begins to twinkle; - If any thing we think of doing, - 'Tis time, by Jove, we should be going. - - No sooner was it said than done: - They whipp'd their greasy buff-coats on; - When Thrasymede, a man of note, - A potlid and a broomstick brought, - Which he the varlet Diom. lent; - Then for an old church-bucket sent, - With dirt and mouldy grease o'erspread; - This serv'd to case his leather head. - Ulysses next was fitted out - With a tough broomshaft for this bout; - When Merion, that he nought might lack, - Hung him a bow upon his back; - And then, to guard his paper skull, - Lent him a cap well lin'd with wool, - A cap made wondrous fine before, - With two grim tushes of a boar-- - This skull-cap, though not worth a louse, - Was stole by one Autolycus - From rich Amyntor, and the knave - The prize to Amphidamus gave; - To Molus, Amphidamus lent it, - And he to valiant Merion sent it; - By Merion it was given now - To guard this sly old soaker's brow. - - Away they went, though half bepist, - And trotted through a thick Scotch mist; - When, from the middle of a bush, - With noise and flutter, out did rush - A bird, so large and fierce, it made - This pair of bully Greeks afraid: - - [Illustration: Book X. page 242. - When, from the middle of a bush, - With noise and flutter, out did rush - A bird, so large and fierce, it made - This pair of bully Greeks afraid.] - - Though 'twas so dark they could not 'spy - What bird it was by th' naked eye, - Yet quickly, by the voice they heard, - 'Twas a Scotch nightingale that scar'd - Their valiant hearts so much, that they - Had turn'd about to run away; - When sly Ulysses, vex'd to th' soul - To be so frighten'd by an owl, - Like a queer rogue did quickly start up - A special scheme to keep his heart up, - Swore it would be a lucky night, - Because she took a turn to the right-- - Had she to the left hand made a ring, - He still had sworn the self-same thing. - But here we do not find he stopp'd, - For on his kneppers down he dropp'd; - Then, like a canting knave in town, - Cock'd one eye up and t'other down. - - Daughter, says he, of thund'ring Jove, - Who holds you all in awe above - (For, did he not the scales keep even, - You'd out o' th' windows throw all heaven), - Thou who hast aided my escape - From many a bitter bang and scrape, - Assist us, whilst this night we roam - To steal and carry something home! - That Trojans yet unborn may rue - The loss of goods they never knew. - - Then Diomede began to pray, - But spoke just as a man may say: - Daughter of Jove, began he too, - Why may'nt I say my prayers to you, - As well as this queer dog Ulysses? - Who, I've a notion, never misses - To pray for aught that he may want, - Because you seldom fail to grant; - And therefore, as he leads the way, - I'll try a spell how I can pray, - Though, being us'd so little to't, - I shall be damn'd hard switch'd to do't; - And would much rather, you are sure, - Box a whole week than pray an hour.-- - But stop--ahem, I have it now: - Daughter of thund'ring Jove, as you - Did often help my little dad, - I hope you won't forsake his lad; - For when to Thebes he took a walk - With their chief constable to talk-- - He went ambassador from Greece - To make, or else to patch, a peace; - For in those days, our records show, - Peace might be patch'd as well as now; - But though he spoke in peaceful fashion, - They quickly put him in a passion, - On which he drubb'd those foes to Greece, - And gave them two black eyes a-piece-- - Now, as thou didst my father help, - Pr'ythee assist his hopeful whelp, - And, by my soul, as I'm a sinner, - I'll ask you to a handsome dinner; - I'll kill a cow both fat and good, - And you shall have the guts and blood! - - Thus Diomede, though hard put to't, - A middling prayer at last made out; - And Pallas, be it plain appears, - Listen'd to both with her ears. - Then, like two hungry half-starv'd cats, - Who long to be amongst the rats, - They crept, as if they trod on eggs, - Through heaps of mangled arms and legs. - - Now Hector, from the close of day, - Was looking sharp as well as they, - And would sleep none, you need not doubt him, - And call'd his bloods and bucks about him; - When thus the mighty Trojan Broughton - Began a speech they little thought on: - My lads, says he, I would not wrong ye, - But, I'm afraid, there's not among ye - A brave bold-hearted buck that's willing - To risque his ears, and earn a shilling - By looking sharp among these fighters, - And learn what's doing in their lighters; - Spy if a proper watch they keep, - Or like good city watchmen sleep; - What resolution is begun, - Whether the rogues will stand or run? - By him that rolls the rumbling thunder! - I'll give him choice of all the plunder: - Himself shall choose from all the rest - The cart that suits his fancy best. - - Just as he spoke, their eyes were all on - A simple youngster fix'd, called Dolon, - Who was, they say, the only lad - The usurer Eumedes had; - But he had five fine girls beside, - As any man would wish to ride.-- - The boy had carts and horses store, - And yet the bastard wanted more: - Though he was not so handsome quite - As Molly ----'s catamite, - Yet he had got (I scorn to wrong 'em) - The longest pair of legs among 'em. - - Hector, says he, and puff'd his cheeks, - I'll go among these sweaty Greeks: - But hold your broomstaff in your hand, - And swear to grant me my demand; - For you must know, good Sir, my will is - To have the horses of Achilles, - And his fine cart with painted rails, - All stuck with spanking great brass nails: - Say but the word they shall be mine, - I'll quickly smoke out their design; - I'll steal, by such temptations led, - Under their gen'ral's truckle-bed. - - His broomstaff then above his head - Great Hector flourish'd, whilst he said: - Be witness thou, whose rumbling thunder - Makes wicked reprobates knock under, - Drives the vile scoundrels, helter skelter, - To ale and cyder vaults for shelter, - I promise, ere the Greeks we fall on, - To give these nags to honest Dolon. - - Thus Hector swore: but Jove, they say, - Was looking then another way; - Whether some bullock's guts were burning, - And he that way his head was turning; - Or saw some ruddy country lass - That took his eye so much, he was - Contriving how to get a grope-a, - Or bull her, as he did Europa-- - Be that as't may, his chuckle head - Heard not a word that Hector said. - - Howe'er, the lad prepar'd to pack, - So slung his bow across his back, - Then o'er his narrow shoulders tied, - To keep him warm, a grey wolf's hide: - A brown fur cap, well lin'd within - With rabbit or else weazle's skin, - Serv'd his misshapen pate to grace, - And cover'd half his weazle face: - With an oak stick he grop'd the track, - And went--but never yet came back. - - A mile he walk'd not, nor three quarters, - Before he met this pair of tartars: - Ulysses, that sly lurching dog, - Heard first, and gave a gentle jog - To Diomede; then whisp'ring cries, - Flux me! but both my ears tell lies, - If I don't hear a pair of feet - Come paddling this way to the fleet; - Some peeping whelp, like us, a-going - To see what t'other side are doing, - Or pilf'ring rogue stole out of bed - To pick the pockets of the dead. - Be what he will, we'll here lie snug, - Let him but pass, we have him rug; - Tor when we've got the heedless whelp - So far, he can't roar out for help: - If he should run, do you but follow, - I'll answer for't you'll beat him hollow: - But if he slips you in the track, - I'll stay and catch him coming back. - At this they stepp'd among the grass, - And stoop'd to let poor Dolon pass; - Go where he would, these sharpers mind him, - And follow pretty close behind him; - There was not, could the eye have seen 'em, - Above a rood of land between 'em. - Now Dolon heard a sort of humming, - But thought some messenger was coming - To fetch him back: but soon the lout - Began to smell the rascals out-- - Smell 'em, I say, because they tell us - The Greeks were dev'lish sweaty fellows, - Therefore no wonder he so well - Could nose 'em by their frowsy smell-- - On which a strong desire he feels - To trust his good old friends, his heels. - Away the long-legg'd varlet flew, - Whilst they, like staunch old hounds, pursue; - Cut short the ground he scamper'd over, - And met him as he made to cover; - And thus, in spite of all his heels, - They drove him 'mongst the Grecian keels. - When Pallas came to Diomede-- - Says she, You run a hellish speed: - But this same spark, if I speak true, can - Run half as fast again as you can, - And, if a race you longer hazard, - Split me but he will burst your mazzard! - Then, when you've almost run him down, - Some other Greek will crack his crown. - - At this he roars with threat'ning hand: - You cursed dog, if you don't stand, - The moment that your long legs fail ye, - Blast my old slippers but I'll nail ye! - His trusty broomstaff then he threw, - Which over Dolon's shoulder flew, - But whizz'd so as it pass'd his ear, - It stak'd him to the ground with fear. - Trembling he stood a dev'lish odd piece, - Whilst his teeth chatter'd in his c--piece; - The bullies, almost burst with trying - T' outrun him, came and seiz'd him crying. - - Blubb'ring, he roars, You see I wont - Run any more; so pray ye don't - Hurt a poor hopeful harmless lad, - And, I can tell you, my old dad - Will give you each a half-peck hopper - Brimful of excellent good copper-- - None of your Birmingham affairs, - Nor any such-like shabrag wares, - But good new halfpence from the mint, - With honest George's face in print. - My daddy all the copper handles - That we receive for soap and candles, - Picks out the good ones from the pack. - And turns the Birminghams all back; - Or, if by chance a few are taken, - He pops 'em off for cheese and bacon. - - Uly, whose ears would bear no stopper - When money chink'd, although but copper, - At present makes this queer reply: - Be bold, my cock, don't fear to die: - But tell us why, instead of sleeping, - You choose to spend your time in peeping. - Did Hector's bribes set you a-going - To find what business we were doing? - Or by yourself, whilst all are snoring, - You're got upon some scheme of whoring? - Or are you some poor lousy soul, - Sprung up from Hockley in the Hole, - Come to steal waistcoats from the dead, - To pawn for porter, cheese, and bread? - Tell us, my boy, and tell us true, - And then you'll see what we shall do. - - Whilst Dolon took some time to pause, - His grinders rattling in his jaws, - With doleful phiz at last he speaks: - I'll tell you all, thrice worthy Greeks! - 'Twas Hector, curse his pimpled face! - That sent me to this luckless place; - He promis'd me, confound his brags! - That pair of flaming pye-bald nags - Achilles bought of Farmer Saul: - He promis'd me the cart and all. - Those damn'd brass lacquer'd nails that shine, - And made his cart so flaming fine, - Tempted my loggerhead to come - And leave a good warm bed at home, - Only to find if Madam Fear - Had made you run, or kept you here; - Or if there was a chance of snapping - A proper time to catch you napping. - - Body o' me! Ulysses cries, - You ask'd the devil of a prize; - How could'st thou be so strangely flamm'd? - Thou drive his horses? thou be d--d! - Did you not know, you stupid elf, - No man alive, except himself, - Can either drive his tits, or catch 'em? - Bever himself could never match 'em. - But he can stop 'em with a twitch, - 'Cause got upon a water-witch; - Had he been mortal man, I know, - They'd broke his neck some years ago. - But, if you'd have me your protector, - Say where the great kill-devil Hector - Goes ev'ry night to drink a pot; - How many geldings has he got? - For, whilst the drunken ostlers nod, - We'll steal 'em if we can, by G-d! - Where do the other captains sleep? - How many watchmen do they keep? - But tell us truly, whilst you're doing, - What kind of mischief they are brewing; - Whether they'll stay to cut our throats, - And burn our crazy rotten boats, - Or think 'tis better to employ - Their strength to guard their whore's-nest Troy. - - Thus spake Ulysses; and this Dolon, - Whom these two rogues design'd to fall on, - Cries, like a coward son of whore, - I'll tell you all the truth, and more: - Upon a grave-stone near yon farm, - Kicking their heels to keep them warm, - I left the captains all with Hector, - Clubbing their pates, as I conjecture, - How they may rid the Trojan shores - Of all you Grecian sons of whores: - As to the watchmen, a small share - Are thinly scatter'd here and there, - And e'en those few that watch should keep, - Like city watchmen, soundly sleep, - The Trojans guard the sentry boxes, - For fear the Greeks should trim their doxies; - But all the foreigners, who're come - To help us, left their wives at home; - For, as one woman caus'd the rout - That all this mischief is about, - Should we our wenches bring, think they, - The devil then will be to pay; - For mischief's never in perfection, - Unless when under their direction: - Therefore in leaving them, we find, - They left their greatest plagues behind, - And now they sleep as free from care - As if your Greekships were not near. - - Then, says Ulysses, tell, I pray, - Where do these sleeping fellows lay; - Amongst the Trojans do they snore, - Or by themselves along the shore? - - I'll tell you all, replies the spy, - And how their raggamuffins lie: - The Peons first, who shoot their arrows - So true, they hit tom-tits or sparrows; - The Carians, sharp as wolves or falcons - At beef and pudding; then the Caucons - With the Pelasgians, hardy mortals - At drinking punch, and eating turtles-- - A task that they perform so well, - All corporations they excel; - By them great **** would be beat in - Both guzzling punch, and turtle-eating. - As for the Leleges, they lie - Along the shore; and pretty nigh, - A little higher, snores the Lycian, - With the Mæonian, and the Mycian. - Quite snug, near Thymbra's old mud wall, - The Phrygian horse are there; and all - The Thracians pig in by themselves, - A set of roaring, sturdy elves, - That came last night, led on by Rhesus, - A fellow twice as rich as Croesus: - In your born days you never saw - Such milk-white tits, they beat the snow; - With silver all his cart is grac'd, - And his buff jacket double-lac'd. - Now you have heard my mournful ditty, - I hope you'll spare a little pity; - Keep me in limbo till you try - If I don't scorn to tell a lie. - When bully Diomede replies: - May Hector knock out both my eyes - If I've a grain of pity now - For such a sneaking rogue as you! - Should you escape us both to-night - Such rogues as you will never fight, - But sure as eggs, whilst folks are sleeping, - We both again should catch thee peeping. - - The moment that these words he said, - He from his shoulders whipp'd his head, - Which at that time for grace was seeking, - So as it fell continued speaking, - And even on the ground lay mutt'ring, - And for a minute good kept sputt'ring; - But chang'd its tone, and with an oath - Bid the great devil fetch them both. - - Quickly these champions made a snap - At both the grey wolf's skin and cap: - Whilst Diom. seiz'd his bow and stick, - Ulysses did his pocket pick, - In which he found a silver penny, - But, 'stead of owning he found any, - He set his roguish plotting head - To work, to cheat poor Diomede. - - Tydides, says this face of gallows, - One day as I held chat with Pallas, - She told me, maugre all her care - Her goat-skin coat was worn threadbare, - She therefore would be much my debtor - If I another coat could get her. - As for her part, she does not care - Whether I get it in Rag-Fair, - Or Monmouth-Street, or any where, - So it comes cheap, for times are now - As hard above stairs, as below; - Not one of all the royal pages - But wants six quarters of his wages, - Occasion'd by a thriving band, - That keep the money in their hand. - Now, since the goddess is hard set - A coat of any kind to get, - What better can she have than these? - Which we'll present her, if you please. - - Then, without waiting a reply, - He pray'd, and upward cock'd his eye: - Broughtonian queen! receive these goods, - And do not leave us in the suds, - But help us now to mind our hits, - And boldly steal these Thracian tits, - Nor suffer any Trojan scrub - Thy true and trusty 'squires to drub. - If they should come before we've done - The bus'ness we are now upon, - Do you but keep the whelps in play, - And we'll take care to run away. - 'Twill only be a grateful deed - To help us in this time of need, - Because of all the sky-bred crew - We say our prayers the first to you. - - With sapient face, so saying, he - Hung the wolf's hide upon a tree, - Though not so high but he could reach it-- - Pallas, he knew, would never fetch it; - Then scatter'd reeds along the track, - To help to guide their rogueships back. - - Now o'er the field they skulk away, - Like bailiffs hunting for their prey: - They found the Thracians in a trench, - Snoring like judges on the bench; - A broomstaff lay at each man's side, - And to their carts their nags were tied. - The luckless Rhesus soon they spy - Amongst his raggamuffins lie; - His two brave geldings, fit to start - For thousands, stood behind his cart. - Ulysses, ever quick of sight, - Was first to see th' unlucky wight; - Then, pointing to his comrogue, cries, - See there, my boy, a tempting prize! - Rhesus, the cart and horses too, - Are planted fair within your view: - Besides the jerkin lac'd with gold, - Of which we were by Dolon told, - I'm pretty sure, before we part, - That one of us may steal the cart: - If you don't feel your courage lags, - Kill you the loons, I'll steal the nags. - - He said; and Pallas, never slack - At mischief, clapp'd the whelp o' th' back; - On which the rascal fell to kicking, - Slashing, and cutting throats, and sticking, - With a long Dutchman's knife, that he - Had bought to play at snickersnee: - Where'er the varlet walk'd or stood, - He made the ground all wet with blood. - Just so the cat that guards the house, - Leaps from the dresser on a mouse, - Pots, pans, and kettles, all give way, - Till puss has seiz'd the trembling prey; - Just so this dog pursu'd his luck, - Till he'd a dozen Thracians stuck. - Ulysses, as his friend did stick 'em, - Behind a cock of hay did kick 'em, - For fear, he said, the horses might - At dead men's bodies take a fright; - But the true reason was, the elf - Could pick their pockets by himself - And that he did; but, by the by, - 'Tis only known to you and I. - Now, having murder'd twelve, at last - They found poor Rhesus snoring fast; - Pallas had sent an ugly dream, - Wherein a Dutch-built thief did seem - To shake a snickersneeing knife, - And swear he'd have his purse and life: - All this he dream'd, old Homer knew, - But never wak'd to find it true. - - Ulysses quickly seiz'd the bits, - And bridled both the flaming tits; - Leading them out, to make 'em go - He smack'd their buttocks with his bow: - Though the whip hung where he might reach it, - He durst as well be hang'd as fetch it, - But tipp'd the sign to Diomede - To come away with all his speed. - - Now he was standing to consider, - And think about the matter, whether - To stick more men, which he could do, - Or steal the cart and jacket too. - Pallas, who saw him thus dispute - Within himself, in haste roars out, - Pray what the pox are you about? - Enough in conscience have you done, - And split me but 'tis time to run! - In jobs like these the man that lingers - Is sure at last to burn his fingers. - - When Diom. heard Minerva say - That she would have him run away, - He knew she scorn'd her friends to banter, - So mounts, and pops into a canter; - For wise men oft exert their might in - Running away as well as fighting. - Ulysses with his bow-string flogging - Took care to keep these cart-tits jogging. - - Apollo, who was Hector's friend, - Had seen this jade from heav'n descend, - And guess'd it was for no good end; - He saw the bitch, by mischief led, - Help this damn'd rogue, this Diomede, - To murder honest folks in bed; - Which vex'd him so, he whipp'd him down, - And wak'd the trusty Hippocoon, - Who came on Rhesus to attend, - And was his coz. as well as friend. - The moment that this loving cousin - Awak'd, he saw a baker's dozen - Of Thracians kill'd, and, what much worse is, - The rogues had carried off the horses. - At this poor Hip. began to cry, - And wring his hands most bitterly; - For all he sobb'd, but Rhesus long - Remain'd the burden of his song: - Had the damn'd dogs that came to fleece us, - Says he, but spar'd my cousin Rhesus, - I'd not have lent 'em twenty curses - For stealing half a hundred horses; - But since they have my cousin struck, - May all their schemes have damn'd bad luck! - And to spin out their life in pain, - Pray G-d they ne'er may sh-te again! - - Whilst Hippy mumbles out this prayer, - The Trojans flock about and stare, - Wond'ring what rascals had been there. - In the mean while these Yorkshire dealers, - By London juries call'd horse-stealers, - Kept flogging both their tits away, - To reach the place where Dolon lay: - Ulysses stopp'd, and begg'd Tydide - Would 'light, and fetch the grey wolf's hide, - With arrows, bow, and staff, and all - They had from long egg'd Dolon stole. - This done, their nags away they spang, - Like thieves pursu'd by Fielding's gang. - Old Nestor was in woeful doubt, - And therefore kept a sharp look-out; - So, when the thieving rogues drew near 'em, - No wonder he was first to hear 'em: - And hear 'em Square-toes did for sure, - For thus th' old buff began to roar: - - Lay but your ears upon the ground, - And, if you do not hear the sound - Of horses galloping this road, - Call me a stupid queer old toad! - Some geldings they perhaps have stole, - (I wish they may with all my soul!) - And now perhaps are rattling come - In triumph with their booty home; - Though 'faith I can't help looking blue; - Pray Jove my fears don't prove too true! - But I'm afraid they may be watch'd, - And by that means be overmatch'd; - And then my fine-laid scheme's abolish'd, - And both their knotty pates demolish'd. - - These words old buff had hardly said, - But up the varlet Diomede - Came puffing, like the trainband guard - After a march of fifty yards; - Ulysses follow'd; off they jump - Upon the ground with such a bump, - They made it rattle with the thump. - Their comrogues shook them by the hand, - With, Well, and how do matters stand? - We funk'd a little, 'faith and troth, - Lest we should lose you one or both, - And 'gan to look confounded blue, - Both for ourselves, as well as you. - - But silence call'd, the queer old Greek, - Who always claim'd first turn to speak, - Began this speech: Ye sons of thunder, - Pray tell us, in the name of wonder, - Where you purloin'd these nags, which I - Suspect ar'n't come at honestly? - As sure as Helen is a punk, - You've found some whoring god dead-drunk, - Or fast asleep, so stole these nags, - Which beat Apollo's all to rags. - I'll take upon my oath to swear - He never yet had such a pair, - Though he's obliged, or lose his pay, - To run his hackneys ev'ry day; - And therefore, in discretion, ought - To have the best that can be bought. - Though I am old, yet, strike me stiff, - And dry me for a mummy, if - In all the lands I've travell'd o'er - I ever saw such nags before! - But speak the truth, if on the road - You did not fudge 'em from some god, - As we all know, when once you're set - On thieving, nothing 'scapes your net, - And Jove himself, and Pallas too, - Have help'd your roguish tricks ere now. - - When Ithacus begins to chatter: - Old dad, says he, 'tis no such matter. - God gives us grace, and that of course is - Much better for our souls than horses: - But these grey nags were born in Thrace; - Their master to a better place, - Or worse, is gone, I can't say whether: - But bold Tydides sent him thither: - And with him a round dozen went - Of scrubs, that for his guard were meant; - And they have prov'd so very civil, - As guard their master to the devil. - But at our lucky setting out, - I should have told, we seiz'd a scout, - So judg'd it would be for the best, - To hell to send this prying guest, - To 'speak warm places for the rest, - Which we design'd should quickly follow, - Unless prevented by Apollo. - So Diomede the scoundrel led off, - And in a moment whipp'd his head off. - - This said, he took him up a switch, - And spank'd the horses o'er the ditch. - The rabble follow'd all the way, - Roaring Huzza! huzza! huzza! - And ne'er could get their wide mouths shut - Until they reach'd the gen'ral's hut. - There his old tits, not worth a guinea, - Welcom'd the strangers with a whinney; - Then, for a handsome sort of treat, - As oats were scarce, they gave 'em wheat. - - This done, Ulysses takes a trip - With Dolon's hide on board a ship, - Where on the stern-post did he stretch it, - Then bade Minerva come and fetch it. - By this rogue's trick, 'tis pretty clear, - He cheated Diom. of his share. - - Now in the sea, to keep 'em sweet, - They wash'd their dirty, sweaty feet, - And, to refresh them from their toil, - Their noses rubb'd with salad-oil; - And then, to give their stomachs ease, - Each cut a slice of bread and cheese: - But, as on Pallas first they think, - To her they fill th' first mug of drink, - Which gently on the ground they pour, - And bid her lick it off the floor. - But how she did, to me's a doubt - Which I could never yet make out. - And now these jovial lucky fellows - Chaunted Old Rose, and burn the Bellows; - Having great reason to believe, - The next time they went out to thieve, - This scratching brim, without dispute, - Would stand their friend, and help 'em out. - Joyful they dance, and sing, and roar, - Till they can sing and dance no more; - Then smoke their pipes, and drink, and funk, - Till every soul got bloody drunk! - - - - - - THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - The Grecian chief his jacket put on, - Though there was not a single button, - Either of horn, or metal cast, - Remain'd upon't, to make it fast. - Yet, as they could not do without him, - He tied it with a cord about him; - Not a grand swashy green or red cord, - But an old rotten piece of bed-cord; - Then don'd a pair of piss-burnt brogues on, - And went to lead his ragged rogues on;-- - Whilst Hector, ever bold and steady, - Soon got his trusty Trojans ready. - For signal, two celestial strumpets - Employ their tongues instead of trumpets. - Jove thunder'd too, but all the sound - In their superior noise was drown'd; - For such a din they made at starting, - His thunder sounded just like farting. - And now, whilst Agamemnon mauls 'em, - And with his crab-tree cudgel galls 'em, - Jove call'd for Iris, to direct her - To go and caution bully Hector - To let this Grecian bruiser roam, - Till some chance knock should send him home. - Then Hector makes a woeful rout. - And kicks the Grecians all about; - Whome'er he hit, he surely dropp'd him, - Till Diom. and Ulysses stopp'd him; - Stopp'd for a while, but 'twas not much, - For Diomede soon got a touch, - Which made the bully limp away, - And leave Ulysses in the fray, - Who got, unless the poet lies, - A broken rib and two black eyes; - When Menelau, and Ajax stout, - Came apropos to help him out. - Hector for Ajax went to seek, - But found his nob too hard to break. - Whilst thus each other's bones they whack - Paris--had almost lam'd their quack; - Nestor at this, without delay, - Drives both himself and quack away. - Achilles, who was looking out - To see what work they were about, - Sends his companion to inquire - What made old grizzle-beard retire. - The threshold he had scarce set foot on, - When Nestor seiz'd him by the button; - In that condition did he hold him, - Till he had two long stories told him, - How cocks and bulls, when he was young, - Would fight like devils all day long. - But still the aim of this old whelp - Was but to gain Achilles' help, - Or, if he would not come to blows, - To lend Patroclus his thick clothes. - Patroclus then his best legs put on, - Glad he'd so well releas'd his button, - And met Euryp'lus as he went - Limping along to reach his tent; - Though he just then was running faster - Than penny-postman, this disaster - Stay'd him till he had spread a plaster. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK XI. - - - - And now the Morn, with yellow locks, - From Tithon's hammock stuff'd with flocks, - Arose, to show both gods and men - That day was coming once again, - To glad the hearts of those with light - Whose conscience could not bear the night; - Lawyers, attorneys, bawds, and pimps, - Born to replenish hell with imps, - A race whose own reflection frets 'em, - And damns 'em ere the devil gets 'em; - When Jove, the constable of heav'n, - Willing to keep things pretty even, - A scolding quean, one Eris, seeks, - And sends her down to help the Greeks; - Her tongue he knew there was no holding, - She storms and tempests rais'd with scolding. - Away then flies the noisy witch, - With a long roll well soak'd in pitch, - The torch of discord call'd by Jove, - And all the people else above; - But if to me you'll yield belief, - 'Twas nothing but a lawyer's brief, - Drawn for the plaintiff, and at th' end on't - Was tied another for th' defendant. - This stuff the goddess Discord thinks - The best materials for her links; - So, long ago, has ceas'd to spin, - And buys her gear at Lincoln's-Inn. - One of these torches Eris drew - Along the sky as down she flew, - Which forty thousand sparkles shed, - And mark'd the road she came all red; - Then fix'd upon Ulysses' boat, - And there began to tune her throat, - Bawling a song to suit the case, - To which her bum play'd thorough-bass, - But made such thund'ring as she trump'd, - Both Ajax and Achilles jump'd, - Though their two boats could not be under - Three miles at least, or four, asunder. - Then through the fleet she inspires each chief, - And strews the ashes of the brief. - Such rancour now the varlets fills, - They all look'd fierce as Bobadils; - The rogues that readiest stood to run - As soon as slaps o' th' chaps begun, - Now d--n their eyes, and make a rout, - And strut, and kick their hats about. - Great Agamemnon first did start out, - And roar'd as if he'd roar his heart out; - Then set th' example, and begun - To put his fighting doublet on. - His legs he thought there were some doubts on, - So whipp'd a pair of large jack-boots on, - Borrow'd that morning by his surgeon, - Of Foote's bold-hearted Major Sturgeon; - Then went and fetch'd his basket-hilt, - And o'er his bosom hung a quilt, - A lousy quilt, although the thing - Was giv'n him by a brother-king; - Though from a king, says Doctor Swift, - A man may get a lousy gift; - But being stuff'd with rags and flocks, - It kept his stomach free from knocks. - On it was painted such a dragon - As few sign-painters e'er could brag on; - St. George's dragon on the sign - At Stamford, where they sell good wine, - Would, I am sure, compar'd to that, - Appear a common tabby cat. - O'er all he tied a belt of buff-skin, - Or doe, or tup, or some such tough skin, - Such as our northern carriers fold - About their loins to keep out cold. - A potlid hung upon his arm, - To guard his ribs from taking harm. - - [Illustration: Book XI, page 287. - And all around, in various places, - Were grinning chaps and wry-mouth'd faces; - But in the middle part, to make - The Trojans run, he plac'd a snake.] - - With brazen hoops and brazen centre, - That points of broomsticks might not enter; - On which a frightful head did grin, - Almost as ugly as Miss ----, - And all around, in various places, - Were grinning chaps and wry-mouth'd faces; - But in the middle part, to make - The Trojans run, he plac'd a snake - Gaping as wide as if he'd swallow - An ox, with horns, and guts, and tallow; - Which made the folks, when he did meet 'em, - Scamper for fear the snake should eat 'em, - Whilst he pursu'd, and thought they fled - For fear of his great chuckle head. - His leathern skull-cap, worn thread-bare, - He furbish'd up with horse's hair; - Then in his hand two broomstaves shook, - And look'd as fierce as he could look. - Thus arm'd complete, he march'd to fright 'em, - In hopes to make 'em all be---te 'em. - That instant, to increase the strife, - Jove's daughter and his scolding wife - A cannon-ball began to roll - In Jupiter's great mustard-bowl. - Whilst the machine they both were holding, - To mend the noise they fell to scolding; - This cleft the welkin quite asunder, - And made the Greeks believe 'twas thunder, - Which fill'd 'em with such fighting rage, - They push'd like Britons to engage. - The foot first hasten'd to the battle, - And after them the carts did rattle; - With such a roaring they begun, - Before his time they wak'd the Sun, - Who, hearing such a dreadful clatter, - Jump'd up and cried, Zoons! what's the matter? - But both his eyes being clos'd with gum, - From whence this roaring noise did come - He could not spy, till fasting spittle - Had op'd his gummy eyes a little. - Jove thunder'd too, for he was mad - To see the dogs so bitter bad; - And mix'd a shower of rain with rud, - To make 'em think it rain'd sheer blood; - Nor would he longer tarry near 'em, - But fairly left Old Nick to steer 'em. - - Near Ilus' grave, upon the hill, - Was Hector drinking bumpers still; - The grave-stone serv'd 'em for a table, - And there they drank till they weren't able - To stand, or, as our bard supposes, - To see each other's copper noses. - Polydamas partook the feast, - With a sly Presbyterian priest, - Æneas call'd--a rogue whose lights - Would show you nothing but the whites, - Whene'er he wanted to deceive you, - And helpless in the suds to leave you; - This he'd perform with such a grace, - You'd ne'er suspect his pious face. - Agenor, with his second-sight, - And Polybus, a simple knight, - Two brothers of Antenor's race, - Around the bottle took their place: - With Acamas, a boy that had - As few bad tricks as any lad - In all the town, although 'tis true - He was a Presbyterian Jew.-- - Pray what religion's that? say you. - I'll tell you, my good friend, anon: - A Presbyterian Jew is one - That likes engagements with the wenches, - But hates both gunpowder and trenches. - Hector a pretty girl was thrumming - When first he heard the Grecians coming, - And though twelve bumpers he had sipp'd up, - He soon his shield and broomstick whipp'd up, - Then quickly 'mongst the Trojans goes out - To make 'em turn their sweaty toes out, - And square their elbows: here and there - He frisk'd about, and ev'ry where, - Whilst streaming sparkles, as he pass'd, - From his broad metal buttons flash'd. - On Sundays view our Farmer Gooding - When he attacks a suet-pudding, - Slice after slice you'll see him cut, - And stuff within his gundy gut; - Whilst on the other side his man - Slices as fast as e'er he can; - With eager haste they slice and eat, - Till both their knives i' th' centre meet: - Thus Greeks and Trojans on a sudden - Tumble like slices of the pudding, - Give and receive most hearty thwacks, - Yet never think to turn their backs, - But scratch, and bite, and tear, and kick, - Like two boar-cats hung 'cross a stick. - - Discord, the wrangling lawyer's friend, - Did on this dreadful broil attend; - But all the rest above the moon, - Though they were willing, durst as soon - Run to Old Nick as venture down: - But though confin'd to keep their places, - They made abominable faces, - Whilst all the time their guts were grumbling - At Jove, for keeping Troy from tumbling. - Now he, good soul, was set alone - On his old cricket, call'd a throne, - Where, spite of all his wife could say, - He gave Miss Destiny her way; - Though now and then he squinted down - In great amaze, to see how soon - The varlets crack'd each others crown. - - Now, whilst the Sun was working still - To flog his hackneys up the hill, - Both parties fought with equal luck, - And furious blows on each side struck: - But at the time when sea-coal heavers, - With taylors' prentices and weavers, - Quit looms and boards, and leave their work - In search of scalded peas and pork-- - Just at that time the Greeks begun - To make some straggling Trojans run. - Atrides seiz'd that crisis too, - To let 'em see what he could do. - Quickly he crack'd Bianor's crown, - A smart attorney of the town, - Then knock'd his clerk Oileus down, - Who, when he saw his loving master - Get hurt, was coming with a plaster. - Atrides, whilst his hands were full, - Like a brave fellow, crack'd his skull; - Then of their jackets he bereft 'em, - And naked to the weather left 'em; - For which, depend, these sons of faction - At proper time will bring an action. - Now, whilst his hand was in, he runs - And meets with two of Priam's sons: - One was a bastard, got upon - The daughter of his ploughman John: - But, as we are inform'd, the other - Was got upon an honest mother, - Who would not let her maidenhead - Be touch'd till Christian grace was said; - But when that's done, e'en touch and touch, - No honest man can do too much. - These loving brothers, loth to part, - Had hir'd a Norfolk farmer's cart, - Where with great skill they did contrive - That one should fight, the other drive. - In former days they us'd to keep - On Sussex downs a flock of sheep. - Achilles, who, as you must note, - Commanded once a smuggling-boat, - To steal some sheep one night had landed; - And being then but slender-handed, - He went his thieving crew to call off, - And bid them bring the boys and all off; - Then made his dad for their release - Remit him three half-crowns a-piece-- - Money ill war'd, since they so soon - Were knock'd by Agamemnon down! - On the pert bastard first he press'd, - And lent him such a punch o' th' breast, - It made him in a twinkling kick up - His heels, and belch, and f--t, and hiccup; - Instant bestow'd he such a pat - Upon the brother's gold-lac'd hat, - That down he tumbled with a plump, - And bruis'd his thigh, and split his rump: - Then, flat as on the ground they lay, - He stole their hats and coats away. - With aching hearts the Trojans spy him, - But dare not for their guts come nigh him; - Thus shoplifts see their brothers taken, - But dare not stir to save their bacon. - Still furious on the foe he runs, - And mauls Antimachus' two sons-- - A sneaking rascal, who had sold - His vote in parliament for gold; - From whoring Paris taking pay, - He made a speech for Nell to stay, - And humbugg'd all the senate so, - They bawl out Aye, instead of No. - Now these two lads Atrides caught, - And drubb'd 'em for the father's fault. - They got a hard-mouth'd resty horse, - They could not stop with all their force, - But he would run, aye, that he would, - Just where this lighting Grecian stood; - The lads had pull'd the resty tup - Till both were tir'd, so gave it up; - On which the Greek their noddles peppers, - Till down they dropp'd upon their kneppers, - And, in a dismal doleful ditty, - Begg'd for an ounce or two of pity: - Good Mr. Agamemnon, spare - Two harmless lads, and hear their pray'r, - For which Antimachus will make - Such presents you'll be glad to take. - You need but send him a short note - You've stow'd us safe in your old boat, - And if he doth not think it proper - To send a stone of brass and copper, - We then will give you leave to beat us, - Or, if you please, to hash and eat us. - - Now, though the younkers made no noise, - But talk'd like very hopeful boys, - This harden'd rogue, before they'd done, - In a great passion thus begun: - If you're Antimachus's blood, - I'll drub your hides, by all that's good! - That scurvy mangey rascal would - Have kill'd my brother if he could, - With sly Ulysses, when from Greece - They came to fetch that precious piece, - That Madam Helen, whose affair - Has cost more lives than she has hair - Upon her head, or any where. - No prayers that you can coin shall speed - With me, to save such scoundrel breed. - On this he with a crab-tree stump - Gave poor Philander such a thump, - It made him tumble from the cart out, - And spew his very guts and heart out. - The brother finding him so tart, - He leap'd head foremost from the cart: - There, as he lay upon the sands, - The whelp disabled both his hands; - Then boldly seiz'd him by the snout, - And almost twined his neck about. - Whilst he continu'd these mad freaks, - He double-distanc'd all the Greeks: - Still he kept cuffing on, and swearing, - Whilst they kept wondering and staring. - So when the mighty bowl doth sally - From th' corner of a nine-pin alley, - Pin after pin by him is thrown, - Till the whole nine are tumbled down; - Just so Atrides in his passion - Tumbled 'em down in nine-pin fashion, - And drove about with such a rumble, - Whole squadrons either run or tumble; - Many a Trojan made he smart, - And emptied many a higler's cart. - The cart-tits, when without a guide, - Ran like bewitch'd from side to side, - Farted, and kick'd, and jump'd about-- - In short, they made such dreadful rout, - They hurt their Trojan friends much more - Than they had done 'em good before. - - Whilst the fierce Greek, where'er he flew, - Beat the poor devils black and blue, - Had Hector met this Grecian cock, - Depend upon't he'd got a knock; - But Jove took care he should not meet him, - Lest in his passion he should eat him, - But kept the Trojan's coat from stains - Of blood, and guts, and scatter'd brains. - Now Jove took all this care, I ween, - 'Cause Hector's coat was very clean, - Whilst ev'ry Greek in all the clan - Look'd like a butcher's journeyman. - - And now this furious fighting knave - Drove 'em like smoke by Ilus' grave - Amongst some fig-trees, where for shelter - They ran like wild-fire helter-skelter-- - Not with design to turn and rally, - But there they knew a dark blind alley - That led directly to the town, - Through which they ran like devils down. - Atrides ran as fast as they, - Roaring and bawling all the way, - Till he had made himself as hot - As Fore-street Doll's pease-porridge pot: - When, coming near the Scean gate, - He thought it would be best to wait - For further help; so held his stick up, - And stopp'd to take his wind and hiccup. - - In the mean time the Trojans ply - Their clay-burnt heels most lustily. - As when the constable and watchmen - Are on a party sent to catch men - Who have the day before been dealing - In what the justices call stealing; - Their phiz the thieves no sooner spy, - But all to reach the window try; - Their haste occasions such a jumble, - Head over heels the scoundrels tumble, - And wedge themselves so very fast, - The hobbling watchmen seize the last; - So did Atrides bounce and fick, - And always lent the last a kick: - Thus did he play the de'il and all, - Until he reach'd the Trojan wall, - Which his great fury did design - To tumble down or undermine; - When Jove sent such a shower of rain - As won't be quickly seen again, - And would have added thunder to it, - But could not get his lightning through it. - - At this he bawls, Come hither, Iris! - You see in rain so drench'd my fire is, - It cannot go as I design'd it, - To make yond' roaring scoundrels mind it; - And as for thunder, though they fear it, - They make such noise they cannot hear it. - Therefore, my girl, do you descend - And tell my honest Trojan friend, - Whilst Agamemnon thus keeps puffing, - I would not have him think of cuffing; - Let other people stop his flouncing, - Bold Hector need not mind his bouncing: - Small captains may his waters watch; - For Hector he's no more a match - Than penny bleeders to a surgeon, - Or Jerry Sneak to Major Sturgeon. - Tell him, although he makes such rout. - And kicks the Trojans all about, - In half an hour, I'll lay a groat, - He gets his teeth knock'd down his throat; - Then shall my bully Hector thwack 'em, - And I will lend a hand to whack 'em, - Till he has made them take long strides - On board their boats to save their hides-- - Drub 'em he shall from place to place, - Till Night pops up her blackguard face. - - At this the jade gave such a jump, - That some foul air within her rump - Came puffing with a thund'ring trump: - But letting fly too soon, we find - She drove so much unsav'ry wind - Up Jove's broad nose, he look'd d---d gruff, - And sneez'd as if he'd ta'en Scotch snuff. - These thund'ring puffs, let out so nigh - The sun, take fire as down they fly; - From whence 'tis evident that plain bow, - Which silly mortals call the rain-bow, - Is known by folks that view it nigher - To be a chain of farts on fire. - - [Illustration: Book XI, page 306. - Hector, says she, perhaps you'll stare, - To hear I come from Jupiter; - But so it is, believe it true, - He sends his compliments to you.] - - Hector she found amidst the fray, - Mounted upon a brewer's dray: - Hector, says she, perhaps you'll stare, - To hear I come from Jupiter; - But so it is, believe it true, - He sends his compliments to you, - And says, while Atreus' son keeps puffing, - He would not have you think of cuffing; - Let other people stop his flouncing, - You need not mind his brags and bouncing; - Small captains may his waters watch; - For you the whelp's no more a match - Than penny bleeders to a surgeon, - Or Jerry Sneak to Major Sturgeon: - And adds, that though he makes such rout, - And kicks the Trojans all about, - In half an hour, he'll lay a groat, - He gets his teeth knock'd down his throat. - Then Hector shall the Grecians whack, - And I will clap him on the back, - Till he has made each Grecian fighter - Scamper on board his rotten lighter: - Nor shall he cease the rogues to fright, - Till they're reliev'd by Mrs. Night. - Then, in a cloud as black as pitch, - She vanish'd like a Lapland witch. - - Hector no sooner heard this speech, - But up he started off his breech, - Leap'd from the dray in haste, and then - Gave two-pence to the brewer's men - To get a pint of stale, or strong, - Because they let him ride so long; - Then, with a broomstick in each hand, - He bid the scamp'ring Trojans stand; - Tells them, if now they box, they may - Run when they please another day, - And he'll run too as well as they. - When they heard this, the Trojans stout, - With one consent all fac'd about, - And seem'd resolv'd to box it out: - The Greeks, who hop'd they'd all been gone, - Stared when they found 'em coming on, - Cock'd their wide jaws in great surprise, - And fain would disbelieve their eyes. - Both sides begin to fight it o'er, - As if they'd never fought before; - Whilst in his passion, Atreus' son - Kept driving like a devil on, - And gave the Trojan sons of whores - Black eyes and broken pates by scores. - - Hopkins and Sternhold, lend me aid - To tell what work this whore's-bird made; - You, who king David's psalms were able - To write in verse so lamentable, - As made the fornicating king - Cry, when you meant to make him sing; - Where he repents, indeed, most ably - You made him do it lamentably! - Help me to some of your rare pickings, - That I may sing Atrides' kickings, - That in re-mem-ber-ance I may - Remain for ever and for aye: - Come on, bold boys, and make it known - What shoals of scrubs he tumbled down, - And whether 'twas a peer or groom - That tasted first his stick of broom. - - Iphidamas it prov'd, a swain-o - Got by Antenor on Theano, - Whose pasture being stock'd before - So hard that it would bear no more, - He thought it best to send the lad; - To Clifeus, the mother's dad, - Who farm'd on lease a little place - Upon a bleak hill-side in Thrace, - For which he paid the landlord clear - Three, or perhaps four, pounds a year. - For twenty years the good old rock - There fed him like a fighting-cock; - And then to use him to the Strife - Man's born to bear, he for a wife - Gave him his daughter: but the boy, - Hearing of boxing-bouts at Troy, - Was seiz'd with such desire to fight, - He listed on his wedding-night, - And left his wife, though thought a beauty, - Before he'd done an inch of duty; - By shipping to Percope went, - From thence by land to Troy was sent. - Thinking the time was now or never - For him to show off something clever, - From out the foremost ranks he jumps, - Resolv'd to fight this king of trumps. - Atrides, who full well did know - That in the first good hearty blow - Lay often more than half the battle, - Let fly his broomstick with a rattle: - The Trojan stoop'd, and whiz it went, - But miss'd his nob, where it was meant. - The youth then with great fury puts - His cudgel 'cross the Grecian's guts, - Which stroke he had severely felt - But for his greasy currier's belt, - Though he so much of it did feel, - 'Spite of his belt, it made him reel; - But when recover'd from the shock, - He lent him such a rare hard knock - Upon his crag, the luckless chap - Fell down and took an endless nap. - His wife, that such a fortune brought, - Two cows, six sheep, and one ram goat, - Thought hers a mighty grievous lot, - When she a maidenhead had got, - Neatly dish'd up as hands could make it, - Ready for him to come and take it; - But he, poor soul, was lying flat, - Whilst the Greek stole his coat and hat. - - Coon his bro. was pretty near, - And vex'd to th' heart, a man may swear; - It fill'd his liver with such sadness, - He roar'd and cried for very madness: - But though he wept full sore, we find - He did not weep himself quite blind; - But when the Grecian did not 'spy him, - He edg'd till he got pretty nigh him, - Then at the bully aim'd a knock, - Which gave his elbow such a shock, - It made his metal buttons jingle, - And both his wrist and fingers tingle. - The Greek was stunn'd, though not with fear, - But knew not, or to cry or swear; - Then whilst poor Coon guards his brother, - And covers this side, then the other, - Damning the Grecian for a whelp, - And roaring like a man for help, - The wary Greek upon his crown - 'Spy'd a soft spot, so knock'd him down-- - Down with a bang he tumbled plump, - And lay across his brother's rump. - - Atrides, now more furious grown, - Drives like a madman up and down, - Using all weapons clubs, or sticks, - Old broken piss-pots, stones, and bricks-- - In this condition on he blunder'd, - And lam'd or frighten'd half a-hundred. - Whilst he perform'd these pranks, his arm - Continued tolerably warm; - But when the blood began to settle, - And he was partly off his mettle, - The elbow stiffen'd with such pain - As made the bully grin again; - Knaves that are whipp'd for thieving cases - Could never coin such ugly faces. - With mighty pain and anguish fretting, - A dung-cart he was forc'd to get in: - But lest the foe should think he had cause, - He put a good face on a bad cause, - And bawls, O Grecian raggamuffins! - Stick stoutly to your kicks and cuffings! - I'll get a dram to ease my pain, - And in a twink be back again; - Jove will no longer let me fight, - But slam me if 'tis aught but spite! - - No sooner had he spoke, but smack - He heard the carter's whip go crack; - And crack it might, as these old hacks - For twice three steps requir'd six cracks; - Though, by great luck, this Jehu got - His geldings smack'd into a trot; - But as they both were touch'd i' th' wind, - They puff'd out clouds of smoke behind, - Whilst from their sides a lather run - Would almost fill a brewer's tun; - At last, when tir'd, and almost spent, - They brought him to his ragged tent. - - Hector look'd sharp, and quickly saw - This huffing, cuffing varlet go; - Then to his Trojans and allies, - To raise their mettle, thus he cries: - - Ye roaring blades, that scorn all fear, - Ye Dardans, and ye Lycians, hear! - Now is the time, boys, now or never, - Roar Wilkes and Liberty for ever! - Yon leader of the Scotch court-cards, - Call'd the third regiment of guards, - Has got some mischief in the fray: - I saw the rascal run away: - Besides, Dame Iris from above - Brought me some compliments from Jove: - Hector, says she, you must not shrink, - But pay the varlets till they stink; - Therefore you've nought to do but box, - I'll warm their jackets with a pox. - - The valiant Hec. with such-like speeches, - Forth from the bottom of their breeches - Pluck'd up their hearts as fast as could be, - And fairly plac'd 'em where they should be: - So the poor gard'ner cheers his dog - To seize and sowl his neighbour's hog, - Claps him o' th' back until he tears off - The ugly grunting pilf'rer's ears off, - Boiling with rage, because the brute - Returns so oft to spoil his fruit: - Thus Hector bawls, nor that alone, - But is the first to lead 'em on: - On the deep file with might doth pour, - Like a black heavy city-shower, - Which clears the streets, and into shops - Drives painted whores and brainless fops, - With fury from the pantiles rolls, - Drenches the signs and barbers' poles, - Washes each dirty stinking street, - And for an hour the town is sweet. - - O Churchill's Muse! for once assist, - Whilst humbly I draw out a list - Of those that fell by Hector's cudgel, - When Jove, who now and then doth judge ill, - Without regard to Whig or Tory, - Bestow'd on him a day of glory. - To 'scape him there appear'd but small hopes-- - He smash'd Assæus first, then Dolops; - Assæus was a great book-binder, - And Dolops was a razor-grinder. - Just there the noted woollen-draper, - Autonous, began to vapour, - But Hector quickly made him caper. - He next began to grapple with - Opites, a great silver-smith; - On his bread-basket such a thump - He lent him, down he tumbled plump. - Then flat as e'er you saw a flounder - He quickly fell'd the great bell-founder - Hipponous--down he fell, - His noddle sounded like a bell. - Ophelthius next, a pastry-cook, - That made good pigeon-pie of rook, - Cut venison from Yorkshire hogs[1], - And made rare mutton-pies of dogs, - From Hector's crab-tree stick of sticks - Got a reward for all rogue's tricks - is hard-bak'd head was finely whack'd, - The skin all bruis'd, and crust all crack'd. - Orus, who kept a noted inn - Full on the road from York to Lynn, - A chatt'ring whelp, just like an ape, - Got in a most confounded scrape; - As Hector rapp'd the saucy dog's head, - It sounded like an empty hogshead. - Esymmus, a ship-biscuit baker, - Got pelted by this noddle-breaker-- - His skull, as Hector's stick did whisk it, - Rattled just like a hard ship-biscuit. - Last, the rope-maker, Agelau, - By a great knock upon his jaw, - Was sent to see his friends below; - The Trojan's broomstick, unresisted, - His slender thread of life untwisted. - - These, you must note, were no riff-raff, - But officers upon the staff: - As for your common country cousins, - He knock'd them down by pecks and dozens, - And, with a flourish of his stick, - Laid 'em all on their backs as quick - As gamblers thump their box and dice, - Or nitty taylors crack their lice. - Have you not seen a sort of twirlwind, - Which country people call a whirlwind, - Whip up a haycock from the ground, - And twist it round, and round, and round, - Whilst with their peepers fix'd in air, - And gaping mouths, the bumkins stare? - Thus Hector whipp'd about, and soon - Kick'd up their heels, or knock'd 'em down. - - And now had Greece been overturn'd, - And all their keels and scullers burn'd; - But sly Ulysses ran with speed - To call his neighbour Diomede: - Diom. says he, why, what the pox, - We'd better both be set i' th' stocks - Than stand and stare whilst Hector keeps - Smoking the Grecians upon heaps. - Let's meet this fav'rite of the gods: - Were two to one, and that's brave odds. - - Says Diomede, You know, Ulysses, - I'll fight with any man: but this is - Another case; I've suffer'd evils - For boxing both with gods and devils; - Jove helps this Hector from above, - And souse me if I'll box with Jove! - What boots it now, my friend, to stand, - If Jove won't lend a helping hand? - 'Tis striving without spades to dig, - And whistling to a stone-dead pig. - Then as he spoke he gave a sigh, - And whiz he let his broomstick fly; - It hit a purse-proud fellow's crown, - A Wapping lawyer of renown, - Thymbræus call'd, and fetch'd him down. - Ulysses then, that cunning tartar, - Up with his club, and fell'd the carter. - When they had done this job of jobs, - They durst not stay to pick their fobs, - Hector was then so near them, they - Thought it was best to pop away. - Thus thieves, that wait the time to nick - When they can best your pockets pick, - Lurch till some bustle is begun, - Then run and thieve, and thieve and run. - - Merops' two sons, a hopeful pair, - Were seated in a one-horse chair: - Their father carried once a pack - Of caps and stockings on his back-- - An honest plodding Highland wight, - And therefore born with second-sight: - From fighting he had warn'd the lads, - But younkers seldom mind their dads; - In spite of him these younkers frisky - Went out and hir'd a timmy whisky; - To his advice they paid no heed, - But drove to meet this Diomede, - Who, maugre all that they could do, - Drubb'd 'em, and pick'd their pockets too. - - Ulysses smash'd Hypirochus, - And the rich Jew Hippodamus, - And made him rue he e'er did sally - From that great den of thieves, the Alley, - Where had he staid, he might have bit - A thousand honest people yet. - But Satan always doth forecast - To lead rogues into scrapes at last. - - Whilst things went on at six and seven, - Jove smok'd a serious pipe in heaven, - And let old Gox's scales hang even; - Nor did he seem a whit to care, - But let 'em scratch, fight dog fight bear. - On this the great Tydides strains out, - And knocks Agastrophus's brains out, - Who, busy fighting all the while, - Had left his cart above a mile; - But when the honest Trojan saw - This bully Greek, he fled. Yet though - He ran as if the devil split him, - This blackguard rascal's broomstick hit him: - Upon his wooden noddle falling, - It broke his skull, and laid him sprawling. - Great Hector saw this fearful rout, - For he was looking sharp about: - As he mov'd on he loud did bawl, - And with him brought the devil and all, - A gang of downright Teagues, all rare men, - With bludgeons arm'd like Brentford chairmen. - - Brave Diomede himself, who never - Was us'd to fear, now felt his liver, - Spite of his mighty courage, start, - And give a knock against his heart: - When thus he speaks--Ulysses, mind, - A plaguy storm before the wind - Comes rolling on, and I conjecture - It can be nought but bully Hector, - Who throws about his pots and kettles, - As if his bum was stung with nettles: - Let us resolve in this here place - To meet the rascal's ugly face. - Just as he spoke, to keep his fame up, - He flung his stick as Hector came up, - Which lent the Trojan's leather cap - A most confounded banging rap, - Bruis'd it, and sliding up, did lop - A tarnish'd tassel from the top: - But by the care of sage Apollo - It happen'd no great harm did follow; - Though 'twas so sound a knock it stunn'd him - So much, that Hector rather shunn'd him, - Mounted his cart, and whipp'd about - To try his luck another route. - Tydides shouts Huzza! huzza! - The hect'ring Hector's run away! - Well doth Apollo pay that thief - For all his knuckle-bones of beef; - If any witch would help a bit, - By G-d, I'd swinge that rascal yet! - But since he stoutly runs away for't, - I'll make his ragged scoundrels pay for't. - Then, though Agastrophus was dead, - He lent him t'other knock o' th' head, - To keep his hand in: now and then, - Like Falstaff, he could kill dead men. - - Paris, the keeper of the fair, - Whose piece of brittle china ware - Had caus'd this rout, that wenching knave, - Was peeping from the well-known grave - Of Ilus, an old brown-bread baker, - Who being what we call a quaker, - I' th' open fields his friends did leave him, - Because church-yards would not receive him-- - Hearing this bully, what doth he - But whips behind a hollow tree, - And just as Diom. down did squat - To steal Agastrophus's hat. - Twang-dang he let his arrow go off, - And almost knock'd the bully's' toe off. - The rogue behind the hollow tree - Laugh'd till he split his sides, to see - The bully Grecian's odd grimaces, - He made such cursed ugly faces; - Then from his ambush leaping out, - Diom., says he, you seem to pout, - As if you'd got the pox or gout: - I've hit, I find, the gouty part, - But wish Id reach'd your pluck or heart; - Then would our Trojan bloods be free - From dread of thy damn'd face and thee - Who tremble at thy phiz, and run - Faster than Paddy from a dun. - - Diom. was marching off, but stopping, - Replies, Ho! ho! Miss Frizzle Topping! - I thought, when pop-gun arrows flew - It could be none but such as you; - Rogues that will boldly face a pox, - But dare as well be hang'd as box. - What signifies thy slender touch? - Our cook-maid Doll could do as much, - Or more; her nails will reach the marrow - As soon again as thy poor arrow. - But this good broomstaff ne'er flies waste, - As I one day will let thee taste; - Some Trojan gets, whene'er it goes, - A broken pate or bloody nose: - Whilst all their doxies, when they hear - My name, begin to scold and swear, - Because I'm sure where'er I come - To send their husbands limping home. - - Whilst thus he prates, Ulysses, who - Was much concern'd for his great toe, - Pulls out the dart, and then doth pour in - What offer'd first, and that was urine; - Then laid his patient in a cart, - And bid 'em drive him pretty smart. - Now, when this bully-back was gone, - Ulysses found himself alone: - Whilst he was busy with the toe, - He never thought how things might go; - But when the Trojans up did walk, - He with himself began some talk: - I shall be smash'd if here I stay, - And yet I dare not run away; - For then they will not let me eat, - And I shall starve without my meat, - And soon be nought but skin and bone, - Like long sir Thomas R----n. - Why should I longer then stand scrubbing? - Starving is ten times worse than drubbing, - Whilst he was weighing thus the matter, - He heard the Trojan broomsticks clatter; - Before this talk was done they found him, - And quickly made a circle round him, - Though his hard knocks did make 'em own - They'd better let his pate alone. - In Piccadilly thus I've seen - A drunken ragged scolding quean - By a large circle of the boys - Pursued with dirt, and mud, and noise: - Whilst she stands still, and only scolds, - Each hardy boy his station holds; - But when or here or there she reels, - The younkers nimbly trust their heels. - Just such another matter this is - Betwixt the Trojans and Ulysses; - His cudgel first he level'd at - And laid the bold Deiopis flat, - A taller fellow and a fatter - You never saw, except the hatter. - Next Ennomus, and Thoon too, - Dealers in stone and powder blue, - Felt what this sturdy Greek could do. - Chersidamas, a noted brewer, - Who in his time had poison'd fewer - Than any of the brewing trade, - Next on the clay-cold ground was laid; - Across the guts Ulysses wip'd him, - And brew'd him up a stroke that grip'd him. - Charops, the son of old Hippases, - Who sold Scotch snuff and farthing laces - Under St. Dunstan's church, was nigh: - At him Ulysses soon let fly: - The broomstick quickly did his job, - And rung against his hollow nob. - Soccus, his bro. a noted tanner, - And bailiff to the lord o' th' manor, - Was nigh, and saw this lurching whelp - Slinging his stick--so ran to help - His brother: but he found him tumbled; - At which be sure his gizzard grumbled. - Curse your sly pate, says he, Ulysses! - You lousy lurching scoundrel, this is - One of your old damn'd roguish tricks, - This laming folks by flinging sticks: - But you shall fairly knock me down, - Or rot me but I'll crack your crown! - This said, his crabtree stick he long - Rattled about his ears ding-dong: - But the sly Grecian's nob, so thick, - Bid bold defiance to his stick; - On which the Trojan chang'd his stroke, - And with a Highland flourish broke - Two of his ribs--when Pallas put - Her hand between, and say'd his gut. - - Ulysses, though with pain it fill'd him, - Was pretty sure he had not kill'd him; - So drawing back a step or two, - Soccus, says he, I think 'tis now - My turn to have a knock at you; - And for the stroke you've been so civil - To give, I'll send you to the devil. - Whilst he was laying forth the case, - He grinn'd with such an ugly face, - That Soccus really thought the elf - Had been sir Beelzebub himself; - Which scar'd him so, he durst not stay, - But whipp'd about and ran away. - The flying broomstick reach'd his back, - And fell'd him down with such a whack - Against a stone, it cut his hat, - And beat his long sharp nose quite flat. - Then, as upon the ground they lay, - Ulysses thus was heard to say: - My Trojan friends, lie you two there - Till Christmas next, for aught I care; - Your mam. will hardly hither pop, - Nor can your daddy leave his shop - To come your funeral to grace - With sable cloak, and crying face, - But leaves that task to coffin-makers, - Or rueful long-phizz'd undertakers. - Now, when I die, I know our vicar - Will make 'em bind my grave with wicker, - Where all my friends, if right I think, - Will drink and sob, and sob and drink. - - Whilst he was jabb'ring in this strain, - His bruise began to give him pain; - Then lifting up his dirty shirt, - He found he'd got a plaguy hurt, - And, the misfortune still to crown, - The Trojans saw his blood run down; - Which made 'em press so close, the whelp - Ran stoutly now, and roar'd for help. - Thrice did Atrides hear him further - Than fifty furlongs roar out Murder! - On which the Spartan bully cried - To Ajax, who was at his side, - I'm sure that something much amiss is, - For murder! murder! roars Ulysses; - So wide his mouth would hardly gape - Were he not in some cursed scrape; - To bring him off we both must run, - Else, by my soul, we're all undone! - For though he's strong, yet Ferdinando - Can do no more than one man can do; - And if of him we are bereft, - There is but one good counsel left. - Though counsellors are understood - To do more harm, thrice told, than good, - Yet here the rule don't fully hold, - For he can box as well as scold: - But the damn'd knaves in Wranglers'-Hall - Are good for nothing but to bawl; - And when you kick 'em for their jaw, - They take the kicks, and take the law. - - Then where the roaring came from they - With hasty strides direct their way; - 'Twas lucky they so soon did stickle, - For he was in a grievous pickle; - The smell was potent where he stood-- - 'Tis an ill wind blows no man good; - For by its help they nos'd him out, - Though compass'd by his foes about. - As younkers at a country school, - When they've a heap of apples stole, - One youth, that he may fair divide. - Across the apples stands astride, - When lo the master, dreadful case! - Pops in his unexpected face; - At his approach they scour away, - And leave the undivided prey; - The pedant then asserts his claim, - And bears the apples to his dame: - Thus Ajax made 'em all run faster - Than the boys scamper'd from their master; - For when the late-exulting foe - His huge enormous broomstick saw, - Who should get first away they strove, - And ran as if the devil drove. - On this great Menelaus pisses, - Then went to help his friend Ulysses, - And part by strength, and part by art, - Got him shov'd up into a cart; - Whilst Ajax with his stick pursu'd - The flying, frighten'd, routed crowd, - Paid 'em about, but first begun - With Doryclus, old Priam's son, - A youth that often walk'd the Park - To pick up wenches in the dark. - Pandocus next he struck hap-hazard, - And laid his stick across his mazzard. - With so much force, it made his mouth ache, - And gave him a d--d fit o' th' tooth-ache. - The pimp at Haddock's bagnio, - Pyrasas, felt the next great blow; - Ajax a swingeing broomstick threw, - That bruis'd his rump all black and blue, - Which paid the rascal well for pimping, - And sent him to his brothel limping. - Lysander next, an Irish broker, - A mettled fellow and a joker, - Met with this clumsy Grecian cock, - And got a most infernal knock, - Made him so sick, he fell to bokeing, - And for a twelvemonth spoil'd his joking. - Palertes last, a freeborn Troyman, - A noted jeweller and toyman, - Got tumbled down, whilst all his toys - Made a confounded clatt'ring noise. - Thus, when you 'gin to smell a stink, - You pump away to clear the sink, - A deluge issues through the grates, - And drives down rotten shrimps and sprats, - Tumbles the garbage o'er and o'er, - Till it has reach'd the common shore: - Just so before him as he rumbled - Both carts, and men, and horses tumbled. - - Hector was to the left a mile, - Pelting the Grecians all the while, - Kicking the ragged sons of bitches - By dozens into muddy ditches: - There Nestor and the Cretan stood, - And stopp'd his kicking all they could: - But, spite of them, this furious loon - Kick'd the poor rogues like nine-pins down. - Paris, who rode Atrides' boot in, - Was practising the art of shooting, - That he might make his aim more certain - Than Wilkes himself, or even Martin, - Took opportunity i' th' nick - To lend the Grecian quack a prick: - The arrow made his shoulder smack, - And the Greeks trembled for their quack. - The Cretan then to Nestor spoke: - Come here, old weather-beaten rock, - I've better business far for you - Than aught you can by boxing do; - Go take your higler's cart, and lay on - The wounded doctor, Don Machaon, - And drive him off; if he is lost, - We all may feel it to our cost: - You know it well, nor you alone, - He cures more kinds of wounds than one; - And but for his great skill, you know - You had been rotten long ago. - Nestor obeys, and sans delay - Convey'd the wounded quack away. - And with an almost fire-new thong - Dusted his raw-bon'd tits along; - And as his geldings lamely tripp'd, - He whipp'd and cough'd, and cough'd and whipp'd. - - Now Hector's carter, who could see - Above as far again as he, - Looking the Trojan files along, - Soon saw where things were going wrong; - Whilst here we fight genteel and civil, - Quoth he, there's Ajax plays the devil; - Mind how the bully swears and curses, - And oversets both carts and horses; - I know the whelp by one sure sign, - His fist's as big as three of mine. - Then let's be jogging to assist - Our friends to 'scape his mutton fist, - Else, by our mighty Trojan founders! - He'll lay 'em all as flat as flounders. - He said no more, but quickly got - His geldings smack'd into a trot; - O'er legs and arms he drove so smart, - He sprink'd the foot-board of the cart, - And daub'd it rarely with the stains - Of blood and mud, and guts and brains, - Which fill'd the axle-tree so full, - The horses had a far worse pull - Than if they'd lugg'd a brewer's dray, - Or country waggon full of hay. - - The Grecians thought by standing close - To keep him out: but such a dose - With his oak stick the Trojan gave 'em, - They trusted to their heels to save 'em; - Whilst he their sides so nimbly switch'd, - They thought the fellow was bewitch'd. - Then from his cart he ply'd 'em thick, - With first a broomstick, then a brick, - And fell'd 'em down with just such knocks - As bumkins lend their Shrovetide cocks, - Flinging his sticks at such a rate, - He always broke a leg or pate. - By such hard knocks as these he made - The Greeks so horribly afraid, - That they employ'd their utmost might in - Running away, instead of fighting; - And Ajax felt such queerish twitches, - His courage jump'd into his breeches: - He therefore found; when folks begun for't, - His own thick legs dispos'd to run for't; - But taking care that none should say - Great Ajax ran, he walk'd away, - And, lest they should his rear attack, - He kept a constant peeping back. - Thus on an evening have I seen, - With pious face on Bethnal-Green, - An inspir'd cobbler mount a tub, - And preach to ev'ry ragged scrub: - Though dirt and rotten eggs flew round, - Yet inspiration kept his ground, - Nor, till he'd preach'd his sermon out, - Would stir a step, and then did do't - With as much gravity as if - To be inspir'd was to be stiff. - Thus heavy Ajax bore the cuffings - Of all the Trojan raggamuffins, - And walk'd as slow as if he'd been - The preaching cobbler of the Green: - In Spanish strides his knees he bent, - And grumbled all the way he went. - Thus have I seen a sand-cart ass - Devour a farmers clover-grass: - The farmer, with his wife and man, - To drive him out do all they can; - But though they pour a heavy tide - Of rattling hedgestakes on his side, - The beast, as patient as he's dull, - Eats till he crams his belly full, - And then, insensible of pain, - Deliberately walks off again. - Whilst Ajax strutted off demurely, - The Trojans bang'd his potlid purely; - Sometimes he turn'd about to swear - He'd break their bones if they came near; - Then march'd away, but, as he trod, - Threaten'd them with an angry nod; - Whilst they, to keep up this queer battle, - With brickbats made his potlid rattle. - - Euripylus, who saw them skelp him, - Resolv'd at any rate to help him, - And did his knotty broomstaff lay on - The Trojan hosier, Apisaon, - Whose nob he lent a knock that broke it, - At which he ran to pick his pocket. - Paris was ever on the watch - These low pick-pocket rogues to catch; - He hated all such dirty jobs, - As stealing hats, and picking fobs: - Not but the dog himself, 'twas said, - Would oft pick up--a maiden-head, - But then he thought no sin lay there, - Because 'twas perishable ware; - In other things he was in truth - A very good church-going youth, - Of th' catechize could read some part, - And say the whole Lord's prayer by heart-- - He saw this pilf'ring Grecian lout - Turn Apisaon's pockets out; - On which he let an arrow fly, - That tore his breeks, and cut his thigh, - Made the rogue sweat and grin with pain. - And sent him hobbling back again. - But yet before he stirr'd one bit, - He made a speech; and this is it: - O Greeks, I fear your courage fails ye, - In God's name, what the devil ails ye? - I've left poor Ajax in a sweat; - And if you do not quickly get - To his assistance, I'll be shot - But his hard nob must go to pot! - The Trojans do so sorely pelt, - That if his potlid and his belt - Did not secure his rump so gummy, - His buttocks must be thrash'd to mummy: - And if you could but see 'em now, - I'll answer for't they're black and blue! - For God's sake, neighbours, run and help him, - You'd wonder how the rascals skelp him. - - Whilst he was speaking, from the rout - About a dozen fellows stout - Took heart of grace, and ventured out; - Some held their leathern potlids o'er him, - And others clapp'd their staves before him. - Whilst thus their fainting friend they shroud, - Ajax struts up and joins the crowd; - Then on a sudden, growing stout, - He puff'd his cheeks, and fac'd about. - - Thus things went on, and all the while - Nestor had jerk'd his tits a mile, - And with a wondrous deal of flogging - Made a hard shift to keep them jogging; - Smoking with sweat, amidst the throng, - They lugg'd the wounded quack along. - Just then Achilles, as 'tis said, - Was sitting at the main-mast head, - From whence he saw the Greeks all spent, - And cudgel'd to their hearts' content; - With joy he saw the Trojans lay on - The bones of all, except Machaon. - As for the doctor, 'cause that he - Once cur'd him of a gonorrhæ, - Besides a hoarseness and a pthisic, - And charg'd but eighteen-pence for physic, - He therefore felt a little touch - Of pity, though it was not much; - When casting down his eyes below, - Patroclus working hard he saw - Mending an old blue rusty jacket - So torn he'd much ado to tack it; - On which he to his chum below - Roars out, Halloo, my buff, halloo! - - Patroclus then began to lug - From his left jaw a fine large plug, - Then clear'd his throat, and spit and cough'd, - And halloo'd out, Who calls aloft? - Stop, avast[2] heaving; is it you? - What have you got for me to do? - Whate'er you want by sea or land, - Keel-haul me but I'll lend a hand! - - Achilles thus: Through various rubs - We two have long been loving scrubs! - With joy my very heart doth tickle - To find the Greeks in such a pickle! - Though their chub-headed chief did flout me, - I knew they could not do without me; - Soon they'll be here with sobs and moans, - And down upon their marrow-bones. - But I want you, my chum, to go - To Nestor's oyster-boat, to know - What made him flog his founder'd cattle - In such a splutter from the battle, - And if he did not lug some cock - Whose pate or ribs had got a knock. - I fear it is our trusty quack; - But I could only see his back, - Nor for my blood and guts could I - A corner of his face espy, - (Though I with all my eyes did look) - The horses did so puff and smoke. - - Patroclus then shook off his fleas, - And button'd both his breeches-knees, - Fetch'd his best hat, and then did scour-- - But in a sad unlucky hour, - In a curs'd minute was he sent, - For Hector made him soon repent. - Howe'er that be, through all the throng - Of boats and huts he popp'd along, - And soon the queer old Grecian met, - Just lighted in a reeking sweat. - Eurymedon with care and art - Unloos'd his horses from the cart; - Nestor, who was confounded hot - With flogging, had a dishclout got, - Which serv'd to wipe his greasy face: - And ere he put it in its place, - Close by the wounded quack he stood, - And wip'd away both sweat and blood; - Then gap'd awhile to catch a breeze - Was coming fresh from off the seas; - But staid not long before they went - To seek for shelter in the tent. - Nestor then order'd Hecomede, - A red-hair'd wench of royal breed - (Which Greece to give th' old cock agreed, - To keep of girls his slender stock up, - And use when he could wind his clock up), - Without delay to fetch a cup, - And make a cooling mixture up. - But first this handmaid held it meet - Before they drank to make 'em eat, - So spread a table with blue feet - Made of good fir, which he had bought - In Broker's-alley for a groat; - Whereon she plac'd a spanking dish, - Then fill'd it full, but not with fish; - Of better stuff she pour'd a flood in, - And that was smoking hasty-pudding; - With this she mix'd, for this old coney- - Catcher, an honest pint of honey, - Then rubb'd a salted garlic head - Upon a mouldy crust of bread, - This done, a bowl that formerly - Belong'd the taylors' company, - And giv'n th'old Greek for his advice - 'Bout cabbage, cucumbers, and lice, - Matters of great concern and weight - To this large body corporate - Of cross-legg'd thieves, who earn their bread - By buckram, staytapes, silk, and thread; - To make it fine the taylors' beadles - Had stuck it full of ends of needles. - Now you must know this bowl of wood - Upon a pair of cross-legs stood; - About a dozen wooden pegs - Fasten'd this pair of bandy legs; - Four handles did the sides adorn, - Two made of wood and two of horn; - (Two out of four of horn were made, - To show the fate of half the trade); - O' th' top of each of which a pair - Of heads resembling snipes did stare, - With beaks so sharp, in many a case - Of bodkins they supply'd the place. - Three quarts it held, and yet when full - Could this old soaker at a pull - Drink it half off and never sob; - But few with him could bear a bob. - This bowl the nymph of high degree, - As handsome as a cook should be, - Fill'd with the drink of which I boasted, - Rare Yorkshire ale with apples roasted. - This for the quack did she prepare; - But Nestor got the better share; - 'Twould do you good to see the pull - Th' old soaker took of this lamb's-wool[3]; - And all his life he did forecast, - To get the first tip and the last. - - Their thirst being partly quench'd, they chatter - Of this and that, and t'other matter; - And though Patroclus now drew near, - They made such din they could not hear - Nor see him, till he did present - His proper self before the tent. - Nestor then starting makes a stir, - And cries, Your humble servant, sir! - I'm mighty glad to see you here, - Please to walk in and take a chair. - - Patroclus thus: I cannot sit, - But with your leave will stand a bit; - For I have heard my granny say, - That whilst you stand, you do not stay. - Achilles saw your cart go past, - And therefore sent me out post haste - To learn what Grecian your old cattle - Were lugging from the field of battle; - But to my grief I plainly view, - Old friend Machaon, it was you. - I know, although I am no wizard, - Achilles will be vex'd to th' gizzard, - To find your nags came puffing with - Our bold and learned p---- smith: - This news however I will carry - With speed, so ask me not to tarry. - I'll tell him what I see and hear - But if I stay, you know he'll swear. - - Nestor replies: I fear Achilles - In a d--d sulky humour still is: - But if he really asks about us, - And did not send you here to flout us, - I'll tell you all, for this misfortune - Is nought to what's behind the curtain. - This learned skilful doctor's not - The only hero that has got - A broken shin or kick o' th' a--: - But many a fierce-look'd son of Mars - As bold as major Sturgeon's fled - To cure a broken shin or head. - Nay several bruisers, men of note, - Have got their teeth knock'd down their throat; - Ulysses has got such a stroke - That naif his ribs are almost broke, - And some damn'd heavy-footed foe - Has trod upon poor Diom.'s toe; - Besides, the blood by gallons flows - From great Eurypylus's nose. - But whether we are drubb'd or not, - Achilles doth not mind a jot; - Nay, should the Trojans burn our fleet, - I reckon he'll be glad to see't: - Greek after Greek gets rapp'd o' th' knuckles, - Whilst he sits still and grins and chuckles. - The devil fetch old Time, I say, - For stealing all my strength away! - O that I was but half as strong - As when I drove the world along! - From Elis fetch'd a roaring bull, - And crack'd their general's thick skull: - Then drove th' Epeans all like thunder, - And got the Lord knows what of plunder; - Their herds of sheep when we did meet 'em, - We very seldom fail'd to eat 'em; - Then stole their breeding mares, all big - With foal, and many a goat and pig. - These things I did when but a boy, - And made my daddy jump for joy. - Elis, thus basted, hung their ears, - And grumbling paid their old arrears; - And Pylian knights, so special poor - They turn'd a farthing three times o'er - Before it went, now found their breeches' - Pockets too shallow for their riches. - When Elis first came out to dare us, - They thought they easily could scare us, - Because one Hercules, a bully, - Had almost done our business fully: - Twelve lads my father got, and he - Demolish'd ev'ry soul but me. - Howe'er, we ventur'd out to kick 'em, - Resolv'd to lose our lives, or lick 'em; - Which, 'faith! we did, and made 'em glad - To give to my old crusty dad - Three dozen ewes--they ow'd him that - For cheating him o' th' gold-lac'd hat - Which he had won at May-day fair - By proving the best cudgel-player; - Both his lac'd hat and cudgel too - The constable detain'd, but now - We made the rogues severely rue. - What more we got, myself dealt out - Amongst our jolly boys so stout. - But in three days they came again, - Both horses, carts, and drunken men. - Old Actor's sons, two bullying roysters, - Whose mother sells fine Welflit oysters - Under a bulk in Drury-lane-- - These bastards led this drunken train. - Thryoessa, a pretty village, - Not fam'd, as you may think, for tillage, - Because upon a rock it lay, - Was the last place we had that way; - That little town, if you'll inquire, - Ended the bound of Pylos' shire: - 'Twas there the rascals came to see us, - And cross'd a dyke they call Alpheus; - But Pallas came one foggy night, - Turn out, says she, my boys, and fight. - On which with speed we left our rock, - And march'd to give the dogs a knock. - I first got ready; but my dad, - Afraid lest they should hurt his lad, - Lock'd up my boots and jacket too, - And d--d his eyes if I should go! - But wilful I resolv'd to do't, - So tramp'd it all the way on foot. - By Minyas stream we push'd the bowl, - Whilst we look'd o'er the muster-roll; - And long before the day begun - All got their buff-skin doublets on, - Except myself, for I had none: - And all our bucks were cloth'd so bare, - Not one had got a coat to spare - Then trudg'd it to the very border - Of Alpheus' stream, in train-band order. - Quickly, to set all right above, - We cook'd a dinner up for Jove, - Of something very good and hot, - Though what it was I've quite forgot: - Minerva had a dinner too, - The udder of a rare old cow: - Alpheus came a meal to seek, - For him we stew'd a fine bull's cheek. - Neptune, we knew, was stall'd with fish, - We therefore cook'd him up a dish - Of lean bull-beef with cabbage fried, - And a full pot of beer beside: - Bubble[4], they call this dish, and squeak; - Our taylors dine on't thrice a week. - By th' water-side the men all kept, - And in their buff-skin doublets slept, - All but poor me; but here I had - Borrow'd an itchy lousy plaid - Of a Scotch loon, from whom I bought - A rare good neckcloth for a groat-- - Those plaids are special things to watch in, - They keep a man so warm with scratching. - Th' Epeans, with their loins all bound - In carriers' belts, our town surround. - Soon as the red-fac'd fiery Sun - Had curl'd his whiskers, and begun - To look about him, we to battle - March'd out, and made their noddles rattle. - And now I box'd it in my waistcoat, - Better than some that had a lac'd coat: - King Augeas' son I tumbled down, - And with a thumping knock o' th' crown, - Gave a confounded broken head - To this great spouse of Agamede, - A girl so skilful, that she knew, - Amongst all kind of herbs that grew, - None made such bitter drink as rue. - I seiz'd his cart when he was down, - And swore I'd keep it for my own. - My men huzza'd as I led on, - And made the drunken scoundrels run, - Just like a whirlwind which in town - Drives butchers'-stalls and green-shops down. - I smok'd the rogues, my cudgel maul'd 'em, - And my sharp-pointed broomshaft gall'd em; - Full fifty carts that day I took-- - 'Tis true, my friends! for all you look - As much surpris'd as if that I, - Like statesmen, had a mind to try - To hum you with a thund'ring lie. - Now you must know each cart I got - Contained two bully-backs of note-- - None of your wishy-washy sparks, - Attorneys' hacks and lawyers' clerks; - But farmers' sons, rare strong-back'd youths, - With mutton-fists and flounder-mouths: - But when we came to a dispute, - I kick'd the wide-mouth'd scoundrels out - Two in each cart, you say? Why then - You must have kick'd a hundred men - Out of their carts that day--'Tis true, sir, - I've men alive will vouch it now, sir! - And Actor's sons, I would, as surely - As you stand there, have drubb'd 'em purely; - But Neptune saw the whole, and tried. - With all his speed to take their side, - Because the mother of those roysters - Was a good customer for oysters. - To save their bacon, what doth he - But pops a cloud 'twixt them and me, - So thick, one mouthful did, I'm sure, - Make me stand coughing half an hour! - And there you might have seen me stuck up, - Boaking as if I'd bring my pluck up: - And would have given any money - For Doctor Hill's balsamic honey. - But still I drove the rest in flocks - As far as the Olinian rocks: - Then, where Aliseum's waters drop, - Pallas call'd out, Plague on you! stop. - When you begin to kick and cuff, - You know not when you've done enough. - Yet even there I came i' th' nick - To lend the last a hearty kick: - Smite both my eyes! I scorn to puff, - But here 'twas I that work'd their buff! - On my strong toe this fray depended, - Nestor began, and Nestor ended. - Our parsons then, to crown this job, - Order'd long prayers to hum the mob - At Pyle; where the folks, d'ye see, - Thank'd Madam Pallas first, then me. - Thus, when a cub, my blood took fire, - And made me box it for my shire: - The passion of this chum of yours - Has kick'd his reason out of doors; - When they have sent us to the devil, - Who values then his being civil, - Unless the bully will agree - To hang himself for company? - The day I ever shall remember, - I think 'twas some time in December, - And blow'd a mack'rel gale, when we - To muster soldiers put to sea; - I and Ulysses landed where - His father kept the Old Black Bear; - We found him with his handmaid Nelly, - Preparing timber for the belly. - A bull upon a spit he puts, - And gave to whoring Jove the guts. - Thy good old dad and thee were turning - The spit, to keep the fineat from burning - Achilles help'd to bear a bob, - For troth it was a warmish job; - He was the first of all to 'spy us, - And made a leg as he came nigh us, - Told us, if we would pick a bit, - He'd cut a slice from off the spit. - We neither of us were so nice - As stay to be entreated twice: - After twelve pots were fairly out - We mentioned what we came about. - Strong beer will oft make men, you know, - As loving as a Trinculo; - 'Twas so with you two bucks, you kiss'd us, - And swore by Jove you would assist us: - Your dads spoke words worth tons of gold; - Old Peleus said, My son, be bold! - I've heard a fellow talk an hour - In Stephen's chapel, yet I'm sure, - Nay, on occasion I would swear it, - He did not say so much, or near it. - Your father's speech was rather longer; - Quoth he, Though Peleus' son be stronger, - And for his mother had a witch, - Yet when upon too high a pitch - He raves and swears, mind you and cool him, - And then you easily may rule him. - Thus spake your dad; but you, I find, - Have quite forgot, or else don't mind: - Though, if you will but try, you may - (A will can always find a way) - Persuade him to assist us now, - I know he'll do a deal for you: - But if some fortune-telling witch, - Some long-chinn'd, long-nos'd, ugly bitch - Of Mother Shipton's breed, has made - His mighty heart and pluck afraid, - Tell him, Troy's rogues will change their note, - If he'll but lend you his great coat. - Put on his bear-skin coat, and meet 'em, - If they don't run, by G-- I'll eat 'em; - Back to their village will they scamper, - Nor longer thus our Grecians hamper; - Each man his own dear self will mind most, - And bid the devil take the hindmost. - - At hearing of this doleful ditty, - The bold Thessalian, touch'd with pity, - Like a lamp-lighter, o'er the plain - Ran back with all his might and main. - It happen'd, as he cross'd a place - Where Cox, a justice of the peace, - Was sending little whores to jail - For want of pence as well as bail, - Just where Ulysses' cock-boats lay, - From whence, a very little way, - Their jolly parsons us'd to pray, - Eurypylus he chanc'd to 'spy, - As the great chief came hopping by, - With a sad prick upon his thigh, - Which gave the Greek such grievous pain, - It made him sweat and smoke again: - But I would have understood, - Though he look'd blue, his heart was good. - Patroclus could not help from crying, - To see him limp along; when, sighing, - He thus begins: Now, by my soul, - You've got into a damn'd bad hole! - In an ill day ye sure set out, - To get so drubb'd and kick'd about. - But say, my friend, how matters stand; - Doth Hector hold his heavy hand, - Or still bestir his wooden sabre, - And all your backs and sides belabour? - - The chief replies, and faintly reels, - This day shall Greece kick up her heels; - Greece, like Britannia, ends her glories, - And loyal whigs give way to tories; - The hearts of oak that led us on, - All black and blue on board are gone, - Where Hector in the shape of Ch-t-am - Swears by his crutches he'll be at 'em - Rather than disoblige L--d B--, - He took an oath last night he'd do't, - In spite of conscience, pox, or gout. - But I could wish that you, my friend, - At this sore pinch a hand would lend - To find the point of this curs'd arrow! - But borrow first the butcher's barrow, - And wheel me to my lodgings, where - I've got all sorts of quack'ry gear, - And ev'ry kind of ointment which - Are good for scabs, or burns, or itch-- - You best know what, because they say - You serv'd three years to Surgeon Gray, - And then thought fit to run away. - Surgeons of note we have but two, - And one is boxing hard just now; - The other, by the Trojan rout, - Has almost got his eyes knock'd out. - - Patroclus thus replies: My friend, - God knows where this strange work will end, - For ev'ry drunken rogue can splutter ill - 'Bout Wilkes and Glynn, and Bute and Luttrell. - I brought a message to our grandsire, - And was returning with his answer - To great Achilles; but although - He's an impatient whelp, you know, - Before I'll leave you in the mud, - I'll let him swear till swearing's good. - - Then, though it made his sinews crack, - He took the bully on his back. - His handmaid 'spied him from the boats, - Riding just like a sack of oats: - Guessing he'd got a broken head, - Or some d--d kick o' th' guts, she spread - An old cow's hide upon his bed. - Patroclus then, with very narrow - Inspection, found the point o' th' arrow, - Which he pull'd out as soon as found, - And, making water in the wound, - Wrapp'd an old clout, a little greasy, - About the thigh, and left him easy. - - - [1] In Yorkshire they call fat sheep hogs. - - [2] A sea-term. - - [3] Ale with roasted apples in it is called lamb-wool. - - [4] Fried beef and cabbage is a dish so well known by the name of -bubble-and-squeak in town, that it is only for the sake of my country -readers I insert this note. - - - - - THE TWELFTH BOOK - - OF - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - The Grecian curl'd and knotty pates - Are driv'n behind their shabby gates. - Hector comes on in furious haste, - Their mangey sides and ribs to baste; - But on a sudden as he goes, - Finds a small ditch across his nose; - On which Polydamas roars out, - Though carts and horses cannot do't, - On foot we'll quickly rumble through't; - For though what horses we have got - Can leap, we're sure the carts cannot. - This counsel, though it did not cost - A single tester, was not lost; - Both cut and long-tail, black and grey, - With all their carts they sent away; - Then fell by th' ears, when to their view - Appear'd a long-legg'd heron-sue - That sh-- an eel: at this dread sight - Polydamas, in woeful fright, - Comes to his brother Hector puffing, - And begg'd him to give over cuffing. - Hector, resolv'd to make 'em feel, - Damn'd both the heron-sue and eel; - And since he's got so far, he swears - He'll pull their wall about their ears. - Sarpedon too made dismal rout, - And threw their hedging-stakes about; - Pulling them from the wall so fast, - He made a swingeing gap at last. - Then Hector takes him up a stone, - Such as our miles are mark'd upon, - Or rather less: with this he batters - Their gates, and breaks them all to shatters; - Then rushing forward dusts their coats, - And drives them all on board their boats. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK XII. - - - - Now whilst Patroclus play'd the quack, - The mob each other's bones did thwack, - Gave and receiv'd confounded raps - With many a dowsing slap o' th' chaps. - On Childermas, a luckless day, - Their shabby wall of mud, they say, - Was rais'd, which made it soon give way. - But Homer had a better reason, - Why it would hardly last a season: - They hurried so to get it up, - They did not kill a single tup, - Or bull, or cow, to give their pack - Of wooden gods a little snack: - This made their hungry parsons grumble, - And swear by G-d the wall would tumble; - And such a case, I'm pretty clear, - Would make a Christian parson swear-- - When people cease their gods to serve, - The jolly priests of course must starve. - For far less crimes the bulls of Rome - Have kick'd and scar'd all Christendom; - To every age and every station - Roaring perdition and damnation; - And had not one Sir Luther Martin - Found that their roaring was but farting, - To this good day our empty skulls - Had been humbugg'd by Peter's bulls. - They say, if God don't build the house, - Your labour is not worth a louse; - But if he builds, we surely then - Should keep and pay his journeymen. - His journeymen! Pray who are they, - That we must keep as well as pay? - Why, reverend priests, you head of cod! - They are the journeymen of God: - And rare good journeymen they make, - All kinds of work they undertake; - For, be it spoken to their praise, - They'll do their duty twenty ways; - And, rather than they'll live in strife, - Will do your duty for your wife: - In short, a well-taught priest will try - To finger ev'ry mutton-pie. - Howe'er, in spite of all their swearings, - This wail, till they were dead as herrings, - Stood on its legs, though thump'd about, - And liv'd to see both parties out. - But when the Trojan bones were rotten, - And all the Grecian rogues forgotten, - The neighb'ring streams did all they could - To undermine these walls of mud: - Their names were Rhesus and Scamander, - On which swam many a goose and gander; - Æsepus and Heptaporus, - With Simois and Grenicus; - Caresus full of guts and blood, - And Rhesus black with kennel-mud: - They say, Apollo muster'd all - These streams to tumble down this wall; - And lest their labour should be vain, - Jove sent a thund'ring shower of rain; - Then Neptune seiz'd the time to work, - And play'd the devil with his fork, - Threw all the dirt about and sticks, - Old broken pots, and ends of bricks; - And, like our bumkins spreading dung, - The mud and stones about he flung - So dext'rously, he laid the shore - As level as it was before; - (Which made th' next generation swear, - The de'il a wall had e'er been there; - But Homer knew there was, and I - Am sure th' old fellow scorn'd to lie). - And now the rivers fac'd about - To find their ancient currents out; - Some to cross vales and drain out bogs, - Others to wash the sties of hogs. - But this would be some other term, - As yet it stood secure and firm; - Nor had the Trojans done it hurt, - Though they kept pelting stones and dirt; - And half the Greeks in woeful fright - Durst not so much as tarry by't: - For, thinking Hector very soon - Would knock their crazy bulwarks down, - And, not content to overturn 'em, - Go stave their rotten boats, or burn 'em, - The better half of these bold fighters - Ran like bewitch'd to launch their lighters. - For an excuse the cowards all - Swore Jove had had so great a call - For courage all that week, his store - Could not produce a spoonful more - To help the luckless Greeks this bout, - And their own brandy-cask was out. - Pale Fear, when brandy did not back 'em, - Was always ready to attack 'em; - Which now she did in Hector's shape, - And made the varlets run and gape; - For, just as schoolboys kick a ball, - This furious Trojan kick'd 'em all: - Like a mad ox[1] from Smithfield driven - By butchers' scoundrels, John and Stephen, - That gores and tosses in the air - The blind and lame that can't get clear. - Thus ev'ry Greek that wanted cunning, - Or heels to save himself by running, - Hector belabour'd with his switch, - Or kick'd him quite across the ditch: - But when the Trojans reach'd the side - Of this great ditch, full three feet wide, - It made a shift to stop their courses; - Ditches won't do for carts and horses. - - The wise Polydamas soon saw - The cart-tits could no further go, - So cock'd his mouth, and cry'd Halloo, - Hip, brother Hector, hark, a word! - This ditch will stop us, by the Lord! - Unless with one consent we 'light, - And boldly march on foot to fight; - Therefore do you, and ev'ry friend - That came a helping hand to lend, - To this my good advice attend: - Our tits can do no more, I think, - Than bring us to the very brink - Where now we stand; but if we make 'em - Attempt to leap, 'tis odds we stake 'em - Upon a plaguy ugly row - Of bakers' billets there below: - Besides, betwixt the ditch and wall - There is not room for carts and all. - Though the great thund'rer Jove this bout - Has help'd the Trojans rarely out, - And made the Grecians fight so tardy, - Don't let it make our nobs fool-hardy. - If he these varlets will demolish, - And all their sweaty race abolish, - The only wish that I can lend 'em - Is, that he'll let the devil mend 'em: - But should they see us in this job - Crowded just like an English mob, - Where we can neither fight nor run, - They'd smash us ev'ry mother's son; - Nor would the rogues one Trojan spare - To tell the world what fools we were. - Then gape with great attention, pray, - And swallow ev'ry word I say. - We must, to make these rascals mind us, - Send all our nags and carts behind us: - When Hector leads us on a-foot, - The odds are six to one we do't: - This is the only way to get 'em, - And this good day, please God, we'll sweat 'em. - - Hector was pleas'd within his heart - With this advice; so left his cart, - Jump'd on the ground with such a bang, - It made his metal buttons twang; - Which when the other bloods did see, - They all jump'd down as well as he, - And bid their drunken carters file off, - And wait i' th' rear about a mile off; - Then into five good sturdy packs - Divided all their bully backs. - The first, a race of bucks to stand by, - Were headed by the Trojan Granby, - Call'd Hector in the Greek; he was - Assisted by Polydamas, - And bold Cebriones, a wight - Could drive a cart as well as fight. - The second, and a sturdy band, - The whoring Paris did command: - Alcathous lent this varlet help, - And bold Agenor join'd the whelp. - The third obey'd two sons of Priam, - Fellows almost as tall as I am; - Deiphobus, a mighty Sir, - And Helenus, a conjurer; - To whom was added Asius, - A fiery buck from Hyrtacus; - His geldings were a yellow dun, - But better cart-tits never run. - Antenor's sons the fourth obey'd, - Join'd with that presbyterian blade - Pious Æneas*, who, they say, - Could stoutly box as well as pray; - Which none will wonder at, that hears - He serv'd Old Noll in all his wars, - Whose rogues, unlike our modern dull dogs, - Could pray like saints, and fight like bull-dogs. - The last tough band was drove with speed on - By a bold fellow call'd Sarpedon, - A Lycian country 'squire, whose hounds - Had almost eaten up his grounds, - Which made him venture in this fray, - Like some of our militia, - To box for honour and for pay. - Glaucus did help to guide this crew, - And bold Asteropæus too-- - Two bucks as bold as bold could be, - But he was boldest of the three. - Each hardy Trojan, as he goes, - Holds up his pot-lid o'er his nose, - For fear he might in this tough bout - Get one or both his eyes knock'd out. - Thus they proceed through mud and mire, - Spurr'd onward with a keen desire - To set the Grecian boats on fire; - Certain their hopes will now be crown'd - To see the scoundrels burnt or drown'd. - - Whilst thus the Trojans, sans delay, - Their leader's good advice obey, - The huff-bluff Asius kept his dray, - And drove his tits along the plain, - But never brought 'em back again. - No more this giddy headstrong boy - Je-up'd his yellow duns to Troy; - But, when he reach'd the other side, - Idomeneus drubb'd his hide. - Now to the left he smok'd along, - Amidst a motley Grecian throng - Of rogues, that made confounded skips - To reach their rotten boats and ships: - None look behind to help their mates, - But dart like lightning through the gates. - As rabbits pop into their holes - When dogs disturb 'em, so in shoals - The Greeks forsook each brake and thicket, - And popp'd their noddles through the wicket: - When they were there, the better half - Could hardly think they yet were safe. - Thither this hair-brain'd hero flew - With his mad, roaring, ranting crew, - In wondrous hopes the Greeks to souse, - Hopes that turn'd out not worth a louse. - Two bloods sprang up to guard the gates, - With brawny backs, and bomb-proof pates. - Since to relate their names it meet is, - I'll do't: The first was Polypoetes; - Pirithous us'd to trim his mother, - And got him; but who got the other - I can't assert, or when or where: - That he was got is pretty clear, - And christen'd too, because his dad - Call'd him Leontius when a lad: - Both from the Lapith race did spring, - Bold rogues as ever stretch'd a string. - Like two thick posts of oak or fir, - That neither carts nor drays can stir - (Though drunken draymen drive their dray - Against them forty times a day), - So firmly stood before the gates - This pair of bloods with wooden pates, - Nor car'd a straw what Asius' crew - Of roaring, noisy whelps could do; - Though in his front Orestes was - Join'd with a buck call'd Acamas; - And Onomaus did appear - With serjeant Thoon in the rear. - But all the airs that they could put on - Did hardly signify a button. - They made a dreadful hubble bubble, - But got their labour for their trouble. - The besom-shafts that hit the gates, - And those that hit these fellows' pates, - Bounc'd with the very self-same sound, - From gates and pates upon the ground; - Which proves that both were sure enough - Made of the self-same kind of stuff. - But still these Lapiths fight and bawl, - And on the Grecian blackguards call: - Yet though they saw the rascals run, - As English guards by chance have done, - They ventur'd by themselves to stay, - Nor would they stir an inch, not they. - - [Illustration: Book XII, page 399. - Now whilst the Greeks possession keep - O' th' walls, they box it ancle-deep, - To save their rotten boats and lighters-- - The Devil never saw such fighters.] - - Like Amadis de Gaul, these elves - Fac'd a whole army by themselves. - Thus have I seen in bushy grounds - Two badgers fight a pack of hounds, - Bite to the bone each forward whelp, - And make the puppies run and yelp: - So these two bucks maintain the battle, - Though broomstaves made their noddles rattle. - - Now whilst the Greeks possession keep - O' th' walls, they box it ancle-deep - To save their rotten boats and lighters-- - The devil never saw such fighters. - As when a keen north wind doth blow, - And brings along both sleet and snow, - You cannot see, so fast it snows, - Above a yard before your nose: - As thick as this, or very nigh, - Brickbats and stones and broomshafts fly, - Spring from their buff-skins with a bound, - And hollow pates and potlids sound. - When Asius found his labour lost, - To make these hangdogs quit their post, - Nor stir an inch, do all he could, - He then began to damn his blood; - And in a furious passion cries, - Not me but Jove himself tells lies! - Else we should long ago have sous'd 'em, - And either in the salt-sea dows'd 'em, - Or fir'd their boats and sing'd the dogs, - As city butchers singe their hogs. - But like a swarm of wasps hard prest, - That gather thick to guard their nest, - Like them, this spiteful Grecian fry - Kick, scratch, and bite, and sting, and die. - But what most frets my guts and gall, - Two thick-skull'd scoundrels stop us all; - 'Tis easier far to break the gates - Than either of these rascals' pates. - - Whilst thus he fum'd as if he'd split, - Jove did not mind his noise a bit, - But sat consid'ring with great care, - How all the glory he could spare - Might fall to honest Hector's share. - Like a poor taylor pinch'd for cloth - To make a suit, yet very loth - To give it up, and leave undone - A job he'd set his heart upon; - So Jove, who promis'd Troy he'd let 'em - Kick all the Greeks about, and sweat 'em, - Was rather puzzled how he might - Manage this hubble-bubble fight, - And not destroy the Grecians quite. - But yet he swears, though hard put to't - (Like Snip the taylor with his suit), - He'd find some way to piece it out. - - The Trojans tried the other gates, - And in return got broken pates; - Nor was that all, for show'rs of stones - The foremost hit, and brake their bones. - O Butler's spirit! help me out - To sing each deed and hero stout; - How Greece, like battle-royal cocks, - Both gave and took most bloody knocks, - Whilst all the gods, for whom these sinners - Had often cook'd up handsome dinners, - Durst neither wag a hand or foot - To help their crony Grecians out-- - Not but they long'd to join the riot; - Jove made the rogues and jades be quiet. - But though the Grecian gods were civil, - Yet, by th' assistance of the devil, - Or some old Scots or Lapland witches, - This pair of thick-skull'd sons of bitches - In mighty wrath kept boxing on, - And knock'd the foremost Trojans down. - One Damasus, a bully rock, - A fellow that would nim a smock - From off a hedge if it was loose, - Or steal a barn-door fowl or goose, - From Polypoetes got a pat, - That knock'd his brains out through his hat; - Then Ormenus he tumbled down, - And crack'd poor Peter Pylon's crown, - An honest soul that kept a pot-house - A little way from Greening's hot-house. - Leonteus then began to stickle, - And laid Hippolachus in pickle - He kept, before the Trojan war, - An oilman's shop near Temple-bar. - Next way'd his quarter-staff, and soon - A buckle-maker of renown, - Antiphates, came rumbling down: - Just as he stepp'd from out the ranks, - He reach'd his legs and broke his shanks. - Iamenus, a great hot-presser, - With Menon too, a leather-dresser; - He nick'd them as full butt they came on, - And in his passion laid a lame on, - By which the first got finely press'd, - And t'other had his skin well dress'd. - Orestes last, a country put, - Got such a cursed knock o' th' gut, - It made him gape so wide, the swain - Could never shut his mouth again. - - Now Hector and Polydamas - Were cuffing at another pass, - Back'd by a blust'ring Trojan crew - Of fellows pick'd, and all true blue, - Resolv'd to fire the Grecian fleet, - And Hector just stark mad to see't; - When, lo! i' th' midst of all the fight, - A most uncommon dreadful sight - Did all their high-flown courage cool, - And almost brought 'em to a stool: - A heron, going out to steal - Some fish for breakfast, caught an eel, - Which he soon gobbled down to fill him, - But did not take much time to kill him; - On which the eel made such a rout - Within his gut, he let him out, - Just at the very time he flew - Over this noisy, roaring crew. - But the poor heron scream'd so loud - To lose his breakfast, all the crowd - Whipp'd up their eyes to look, and soon - They saw the eel come wriggling down: - The dreadful sight amaz'd 'em so, - You might have fell'd 'em with a straw. - The wise Polydamas we find - Rumbled this matter in his mind, - But could not from his gizzard pluck - The eel, it in his stomach stuck; - On which he with a sapient look - Thus to his brother Hector spoke: - - Brother, says he, you often swear - When you my faithful counsel hear; - And though I speak but what I think, - You like a heathen damn and sink; - But I'm a Trojan, and shan't cease - To speak my mind in war or peace; - All Englishmen that do so now, - The people call them Trojans true. - Then take my counsel, if you choose it; - If not, you're welcome to refuse it: - 'Tis for your credit what I say, - For you command, and I obey; - This day depend you'll never do't - (Don't swear till you have heard me out); - The truth I never will conceal; - This long-legg'd bird that sh-- the eel, - Jove sent just now to let us know - How matters with ourselves will go. - The bird had gobbled up his prey, - But could not carry it away. - Thus will it fare with us, depend on't: - I'm sure it will, so mark the end on't: - For though we tumble down the wall, - And fire their rotten boats and all, - I'll eat my hat, if Jove don't drop us, - Or play some queer rogue's trick to stop us. - This by my second-sight I know, - And Endor's witch will tell you so; - Or if she won't, by holy Paul, - I'll make her conjure up king Saul! - - Hector replies in sober sadness: - You'd make a man eat hay for madness; - Blast your long jaws, you conj'ring knave, - Is this the best advice you have? - You know much better things, I'm clear, - But dare not speak your mind for fear. - Did not Jove send down Madam Iris, - The rainbow wench, whose tail on fire is, - To tell us we their bones should thwack? - Then who the devil would turn back? - Did not his rusty bomb-shell roll - Till it half crack'd his mustard-bowl; - And all the noise was to the right, - Only to egg us on to fight? - And think you I'll such orders slight, - Or let a slipp'ry eel, God wot, - Tell me if I shall fight or not? - I own I may a motion feel - To eat a slice of collar'd eel; - But eels can never, I've a notion, - Make Hector feel a running motion, - Unless they make his bowels loose, - Then make him run to th' little house. - A brave man waves his cudgel high, - Asking no witch the reason why, - But for his country's cause ding-dong - Lets fly his broomstick right or wrong: - For thy part, I am pretty sure; - Let who will fall thou'lt sleep secure; - When all thy friends by scores are dropping, - Thou'lt find some dirty hole to pop in; - And, in the steps of Paris treading, - Secure a hole to put your head in. - But if a single Trojan follows - Such rogues' examples, by Apollo's - Red fiery whiskers I shall soon - Be up with you and crack your crown! - I'll keep this broomstick ready for you, - So mind your hits, look sharp and stir you. - - At this he ran, and made a halloo - For all his ragged rogues to follow. - These trusty Trojans, one and all, - Obey their roaring leader's call; - Like him they run, and roar, and shout, - And make their broomsticks fly about - Then Jove from Ida sent a gust, - And blinded all the Greeks with dust-- - A stratagem he just then thought on - Would greatly help this Trojan Broughton. - Thus back'd by Jove, these roysters batter - The walls and gates with dreadful clatter, - Pull up the stakes that fence the wall, - And down the dirt and pebbles fall. - But still the half-blind Grecians yet - Battled as high as they could get, - And sent a nimble-footed swain - To beg the tanners in Long-lane. - Would lend them all their hides in hair, - And tann'd ones too, that they could spare, - With horns and hoofs; all which they laid - To stop the gaps that Hector made; - Then close and box it tooth and nail, - Whilst horns and broomsticks fly like hail. - - The two Ajaces stirr'd their stumps, - And, whilst they deal most bitter thumps - Amongst the Trojans, were not slack - To clap their comrades on the back. - The brave recover'd soon their fright - But rogues they kick'd to make 'em fight; - Whilst one employ'd both foot and hand - In drubbing rogues that durst not stand, - The other spoke these words, or near it-- - And no bad speech but you shall hear it: - - Ye Grecians, who at country fairs - Have shown yourselves good cudgel-players, - By which you've got both hats and fame-- - And ye who hope to do the same-- - Though ev'ry man can't box his two, - Yet something ev'ry man may do; - The strong, good sturdy thumps may deal - To make yon scoundrel Trojans feel, - And roar as loud as they, and louder; - The weak will make good food for powder. - A day is come when great and small - Must look out sharp; there's work for all, - And ev'ry buck that is but bold - May gain new fame, or splice the old, - Hearten the valiant on, and stop - The sneaking rogues that give it up. - Then tune your rusty windpipes all, - And roar as loud as you can bawl; - For though we yield to Troy in whoring, - We sure can match the dogs in roaring: - Thus, if Jove pleases, we once more - May drub 'em as we've done before. - - This speech reviv'd their courage so, - That showers of broken pots they throw. - Have you not seen a sodomite - Advanc'd a very proper height - Upon a rare machine, which we, - The vulgar, call a pillory? - So fast and thick the crowd below - Their rotten eggs and dung bestow, - You see, in less than half an hour, - The rogue and pillory cover'd o'er: - So fast did broken pots and stones - Fly down to break the Trojans' bones. - - Now Hector and his bucks did strive, - The gates from off the hooks to drive: - But did not gain of ground one inch, - Nor would the purblind Grecians flinch. - Jove quickly saw some help they'd need on, - So sent his bastard, bold Sarpedon, - And blew his courage up so high, - He did not seem to walk, but fly; - A greasy leather coat he wore, - And high in air his pot-lid bore; - A mighty furious targe it was, - Made of a cow-skin tipp'd with brass. - He shook two broomstaves thick and strong, - And frowning lugg'd his knaves along. - Thus have I seen an ill-look'd thief, - By sailors call'd a press-gang chief, - Look fierce though by a mob pursu'd, - And ston'd and hiss'd at by the crowd; - Yet, spite of all the distant war, - Seizes some helpless, friendless tar: - Just so this roaring blade Sarpedon - His Lycian shirtless rogues did lead on, - Darting such looks against the wall, - As if he'd eat it stones and all; - Then squinting at his trusty friend, - Who always did his steps attend, - Thus speaks: I'm sore afraid, friend Glaucus, - That all the neighbourhood will joke us. - What boots it then to have it said, - That we chief constables are made, - And therefore with churchwardens dine, - Where we drink beer, and punch, and wine, - Free gratis[2], whilst poor rascals gape, - And as we pass 'em bow and scrape? - What signifies these honours, if - We don't exceed these raff and riff - As much, or rather more, in fighting, - Than either reading well or writing, - Making the thick-skull'd varlets stare - To see us buy our posts so dear, - And own we've earn'd by toil and sweat - More pudding than we e'er shall get? - Then will each cry, Such folks may be - Chief constables, or lords, for me. - Could all our cares but save our breath, - Or ward a broken pate from death, - I would not ask my friend to fight; - More might be lost than gotten by't. - But since grim Death will, soon or late, - Lend us a swingeing knock o' th' pate, - Whether, when once the fray's begun, - We stay to box it out or run, - And Old Age, with his grizzle' locks, - Add gouty pains t' our half-curd pox, - The life that brandy, whores, and claps - Will help old Time to steal by scraps, - Let's boldly risque; that people may, - Whene'er our names are mention'd, say, - With one consent, both young and old, - These honest souls are hearts of gold. - - The speech was hardly clos'd, when this chief - Found his friend ready cock'd for mischief; - The Lycians shake their staves, and follow - Their leaders with a whoop and halloo. - As they mov'd forward, Peteus' son - Look'd sharp, and saw them coming on; - Which put him in so great a fright, - His long lank hair stood bolt upright, - And in his weem he felt a motion - As if he'd ta'en a purging potion; - But what was worst, he hardly felt it - Above a moment, ere he smelt it: - On which he peep'd about to spy - If any trusty Greeks were nigh-- - When to his joy he saw the places - Where Teucer stood with both th' Ajaces, - Fighting like devils on a row; - To whom he roars, So-ho, So-ho! - But might as well have say'd his wind - To cool his pottage; for we find - The clatt'ring cudgels make such noise - As would have drown'd old Stentor's voice, - Full on the walls their broomstaves bump, - And on the gates their brickbats thump, - Making such fearful din and rout, - Jove's thunder seem'd but farting to't. - When thus Menestheus speaks to Thoos; - Those Lycian rogues to hell will blow us, - If you don't run and tell th' Ajaces, - How lamentably bad our case is; - Urge them to scamper to our aid, - For, o' my soul, I'm sore afraid - Of that same roaring Lycian blade. - Say from yourself, Pray, how the pox - Can he defend his sentry-box, - And, all alone, make good his quarters - 'Gainst such a host of Lycian Tartars? - But if hard switch'd themselves they are, - Beg they will bully Ajax spare, - Along with serjeant Teucer, who - Can do good bus'ness with his bow. - - Away he starts, and like a man - Through all the crowd the beadle ran; - He found the bullies on the plain - Boxing it till they smok'd again: - To whom he cries, Whilst here you fight - With riff-raff rogues from morn to night, - Menestheus, in a sad condition, - Has sent me humbly to petition, - That some of you great heroes stout - Will come with me and help him out; - For two great Lycian bullies now - Threaten to thrash him black and blue: - But adds, if on this dang'rous pinch - You seem afraid these buffs will flinch, - He humbly hopes great Ajax, you Sir, - Will come along with serjeant Teucer. - - At this great Ajax faced about - To go himself and help him out; - But though he was no friend to jawing, - And knew 'twas time he should be going, - He thought it proper now to say - Something before he march'd away: - Brave Lycomede, and you Oileus, - Says he, look sharp, and you shall see us - Go drub yon lousy rogues, and then - We'll in a twink be back again; - But take great care you both stand fast, - And battle till your broomsticks last; - For, if you let your courage fail ye, - Depend these Trojan whelps will nail ye! - Then call'd Pandion, Hark ye, you Sir, - Come here and take this bow for Teucer: - Since Hector gave him such a fell blow - Upon his stomach and his elbow, - The harmless lad can scarce with ease - Lug his own share of bread and cheese. - Then with long strides the thick-legg'd elf - Carried his potlid and himself. - Next Teucer after him did go, - And then Pandion with the bow. - - Now on the wall the Lycians lower - Like a black heavy thunder shower; - The Greeks, though mighty weak i' the joints, - Receive 'em on their broomstick points, - Renew the fray with double force, - And roar till they're with roaring hoarse; - And 'midst their bawling and their hissing - They cried, to keep themselves from p--g; - Finding their water would come out, - They thought it best, without dispute, - Rather than wet both breeks and thighs, - To let it bubble--through their eyes. - - Whilst thus they scuffle, Ajax soon - Came up, and fetch'd Epicles down, - A bottle friend of this Sarpedon, - And one that he had often need on; - Because like him no man, 'tis said, - Could ferret out a maidenhead: - By which you see he was an imp, - By honest people call'd a pimp; - But royal pimps despise disgrace, - Because they're sure to get a place, - Though their own sisters they should dish up, - And then stand pimp like scoundrel B-----. - - The clumsy Greek had pois'd his stick, - When he espy'd a double brick - Had tumbled from the wall: not two - Of our poor dogs could throw it now; - Nor even with both hands could raise - (They made large bricks in former days): - He swung it round, away it fled - Ten yards above the Lycian's head, - Then fell upon the varlet's crown, - And with a rattle brought him down. - Have you not seen the yonkers make - A diving-match upon the lake? - Halfpence are to the bottom thrown, - Which he that fetches calls his own; - And that they may the deeper sink, - Pop from the trees that shade the brink: - Thus did the luckless Lycian fall, - And nimbly div'd from off the wall; - But did not when he touch'd the plain - So nimbly find his legs again. - Glaucus was lugging at a stick, - When Teucer gave his arm a prick; - But as he knew his varlets would - All scamper, if they saw his blood, - He took good care to hide the gap, - And whipp'd it under his coat lap; - Then finding he must leave the fray, - Like an old fox he stole away, - Sarpedon saw, and angry grew - To lose his pimp and bully too; - But his great fury to engage, - Soon made him turn his grief to rage, - He seiz'd that time his staff to lay on - A harmless Grecian call'd Alcmaon, - A commissary's clerk, no fighter, - But an accountant and a writer: - Instant a bloody riv'let flows - From the unlucky varlet's nose, - And as upon the grass he tumbled, - His inkhorn 'gainst his ruler rumbled. - Sudden the wall the conqu'ror shakes, - And pulls up all the hedging-stakes: - With such a force he shook, that soon - Rubbish by pecks came tumbling down, - And made a gap as large and wide - As Madame ***'s, that would, if tried, - Admit in any kind of weather, - Two troopers on abreast together. - At this bold Teucer twang'd his bow, - And Ajax let a broomshaft go; - The arrow stuck upon his belt, - The besom-shaft his potlid felt: - But though with rage the stick was cast hard, - Jove swore it should not hurt his bastard. - Howe'er, his fury did not slack, - Although he drew a little back, - Not with design to run, but that - He might repay them tit for tat. - Loud as a bell in Stepney steeple - He thus encouraged all his people: - - Lycians, who feast on cakes and ale, - Let not your noble courage fail, - Else Trojans will be apt to think - Soup meagre's been your meat and drink. - You see with many a bitter rap - I've made at last a handsome gap, - But I shall never gain the top, - Unless you help to shove me up; - Therefore let's join our jowls together, - And pelt 'em spite of wind and weather. - - The Lycians heard this speech, and slap - They ran like smoke to reach the gap. - The Greeks stood stiffly, and as soon - As they came up they knock'd 'em down; - Nor did the Lycians, though so stout, - Force in, or yet be quite kept out. - Thus have I seen within a college - Two learned owls of little knowledge - Dispute for hours, and, when they'd done, - Leave off as wise as they begun; - Nor would they in the annual round - Obtain or lose one inch of ground; - For, you'll observe, a learned tup, - Though wrong, will never give it up. - Just such a stubborn bout this was - To gain or lose the dusty pass. - Many bold Trojans ribs were smack'd, - And many a Grecian's noddle crack'd; - Whilst many a nose ran down with blood, - And soak'd these dusty walls of mud. - Under the Privy-garden wall - Two cupboard-doors compose a stall; - Here you may see old Moggy Briggs - With caution weigh her rotten figs; - No cast o' th' scale she gives the boys, - But sells her ware on equal poise: - Thus neither Greece nor Troy prevails, - But stand like Moggy's rusty scales, - Till bully Hector thund'ring came, - And threw his weight upon the beam; - Mad as a bull he scales the walls, - And for his trusty Trojans calls; - Come here, and bring each man a match, - And we'll the lucky moment catch, - And then, depend on't, in a twinkum, - We'll either burn their boats or sink 'em. - - His voice once heard, these Trojan fighters - Bring out their link-boys and lamplighters; - Not one of all the ragged pack - But lugg'd a ladder on his back, - Which they against the hedgestakes prop. - And in a moment reach the top. - Straight on the walls, the Greeks to fright, - Appear'd to their astonish'd sight - A fearful and amazing light: - Their small remains of courage sinks - To see such shoals of lamps and links. - Then Hector snatch'd up such a stone - As Brandy Nanny stands upon - In Paul's church-yard; it weigh'd, I guess, - 'Bout half a ton, or more or less; - Ten porters, strong as can be found, - Would hardly lift it from the ground - (In these our days of sloth and ease, - When porters work just as they please): - Yet this as easily he flung - As I could do a dried neat's tongue. - But Jove himself, you'll understand, - Lent him a sort of helping hand: - And in these days great Jove could do - As much as popish saints can now. - Thus arm'd, he ran t' attack the gates, - Though rivetted with iron plates: - Nestor, who, when the commonweal - Requir'd his help, could gravely steal - (A trade that soldiers quickly learn), - Had stole 'em from a farmer's barn, - Then drove 'em thick with heads of nails, - Such as you see in country jails, - Where nails are driven all about - To hinder thieves from stealing out: - These gates, though stronger gates could not - At such a time of need be got, - Were quite unable to resist - This weighty stone and mutton fist: - - [Illustration: Book XII, page 431. - These gates, though stronger gates could not - At such a time of need be got, - Were quite unable to resist - This weighty stone and mutton fist.] - - With wondrous force he drove it through - The plank, and broke the bars in two; - In twenty thousand splinters shatter'd, - The farmer's rotten gates lay scatter'd. - But what completed all the jumble, - One gate from off the hinge did tumble. - Then Hector roar'd, Have at your pates! - And darted headlong through the gates: - In either hand he shook a stick, - And look'd as if he'd eat 'em quick: - For strength of fists and breadth of back, - He beat the giant-killer Jack; - And, moving with resistless force, - Seem'd an o'ermatch for man and horse. - The Trojans, with a dismal yell, - Follow'd their thund'ring chief pell-mell, - Whilst the poor Grecians all let fly, - And ran to wipe their breeches dry. - - - - [1] I have heard this evil would long ago have been put a stop to, and -beasts not suffered to be driven through the city; but it was -apprehended it would breed great confusion to take the freedom of the -city from horned cattle. - - [2] Free gratis.--The common people always put these two words together. - - -END OF VOLUME II. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Burlesque Translation of Homer, by Thomas Bridges - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - -***** This file should be named 43723-8.txt or 43723-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/2/43723/ - -Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org -(Scans generously made available by the Internet Archive -- Pittsburgh University.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: A Burlesque Translation of Homer - -Author: Thomas Bridges - -Release Date: September 14, 2013 [EBook #43723] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - - - - -Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org -(Scans generously made available by the Internet Archive -- Pittsburgh University.) - - - - - -A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER. - -IN TWO VOLUMES. - -BY - -THOMAS BRIDGES - - - -THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED. - - -VOL. I. - -[Illustration] - -LONDON. - -Printed for G.G. and J. ROBINSON, Paternoster-Row - -1797. - - - -<i>Dilucida et negligenter quoque audientibus aperta; ut in animum ratio -tanquam sol in oculos, etiamsi in eam non intendatur, occurrat. Quare, -non ut intelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere, -curandum.</i> - -QUINTIL. - - If you would make a speech, or write one, - Or get some artist to indite one, - Don't think, because 'tis understood - By men of sense, 'tis therefore good; - But let your words so well be plann'd, - That blockheads can't misunderstand. - - - -[Illustration: frontispiece: Homer casting pearls before Swine.] - - - - - - THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - Atrides, as the story goes, - Took parson Chrysis by the nose. - Apollo, as the gods all do, - Of Christian, Pagan, Turk, or Jew, - On that occasion did not fail - To back his parson tooth and nail. - This caus'd a dev'lish quarrel 'tween - Pelides and the king of men; - Which ended to Achilles' cost, - Because a buxom wench he lost. - On which great Jove and's wife fell out, - And made a damn'd confounded rout: - And, had not honest Vulcan seen 'em - Ready for blows, and stepp'd between 'em; - 'Tis two to one but their dispute - Had ended in a scratching-bout. - Juno at last was over-aw'd, - Or Jove had been well clapper-claw'd. - - - - - - SOMETHING BY WAY OF PREFACE. - - - - Good people, would you know the reason - I write at this unlucky season, - When all the nation is so poor - That few can keep above one whore, - Except the lawyers--(whose large fees - Maintain as many as they please)-- - And Pope, with taste and judgement great, - Has deign'd this author to translate-- - The reason's this:--He may not please - The jocund tribe so well as these; - For all capacities can't climb - To comprehend the true sublime. - Another reason I can tell, - Though silence might do full as well; - But being charg'd--discharge I must, - For bladder, if too full, will burst. - The writers of the merry class, - E'er since the time of Hudibras, - In this strange blunder all agree, - To murder short-legg'd poetry. - Words, though design'd to make ye smile, - Why mayn't they run as smooth as oil? - No poetaster can convince - A man of any kind of sense, - That verse can be the greater treasure, - Because it wants both weight and measure - Or can persuade, that false rough metre, - Than true and smooth, by far is sweeter. - This is the wherefore; and the why, - Have patience, you'll see by-and-by. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK I. - - - - Come, Mrs. Muse, but, if a maid, - Then come Miss Muse, and lend me aid! - Ten thousand jingling verses bring, - That I Achilles' wrath may sing, - That I may chant in curious fashion - This doughty hero's boiling passion, - Which plagu'd the Greeks; and gave 'em double - A Christian's share of toil and trouble, - And, in a manner quite uncivil, - Sent many a Broughton to the devil; - Leaving their carcasses on rows, - Food for great dogs and carrion crows. - To this sad pass the bully's freaks - Had brought his countryfolks the Greeks! - But who the devil durst say no, - Since surly Jove would have it so? - Come tell us then, dear Miss, from whence - The quarrel rose: who gave th' offence? - Latona's son, with fiery locks, - Amongst them sent both plague and pox. - And prov'd most damnably obdurate, - Because the king had vex'd his curate; - For which offence the god annoy'd 'em, - And by whole waggon-loads destroy'd 'em. - - [Illustration: Book I, page 4. - A red nosed priest came hobbling after - With presents to redeem his daughter. - Like a poor supplicant did stand, - With an old garland in his hand, - Filch'd from a maypole.--] - - The case was this: These sons of thunder - Took a plump wench amongst their plunder. - A red-nos'd priest came hobbling after, - With presents to redeem his daughter; - Like a poor supplicant did stand, - With an old garland in his hand - Filch'd from a May-pole, and to boot - A constable's short staff lugg'd out. - These things, he told the chief that kept her, - Were his old master's crown and sceptre; - Then to the captains made a speech, - And to the brothers joint, and each: - - Ye Grecian constables so stout, - May you all live to see Troy out; - And when you've pull'd it to the ground, - May you get home both safe and sound! - Was Jove but half the friend that I am, - You quickly should demolish Priam; - But, since the town his godship spares, - I'll help you all I can with pray'rs. - For my part, if you'll but restore - My daughter, I'll desire no more. - You'll hardly guess the many shifts - I made to raise you all these gifts. - If presents can't for favour plead, - Then let your pity take the lead. - Should you refuse, Apollo swears, - He'll come himself, and lug your ears. - - The Grecians by their shouts declare - Th' old gentleman spoke very fair; - They swore respect to him was due, - And he should have his daughter too: - For he had brought, to piece the quarrel, - Of Yarmouth herrings half a barrel. - No wonder then their mouths should water - More for his herrings than his daughter. - But Agamemnon, who with care - Had well examin'd all her ware, - And guess'd that neither Troy nor Greece - Could furnish such another piece, - Roars out: You make a cursed jargon! - But take me with ye ere you bargain: - My turn's to speak; and as for you, Sir, - This journey you may chance to rue, Sir: - Nor shall your cap and gilded stick - Preserve your buttocks from a kick, - Unless you show your heels, and so - Escape the rage of my great toe. - What priest besides thyself e'er grumbled - To have his daughter tightly tumbled? - Then don't provoke me by your stay, - But get you gone, Sir, whilst you may. - I love the girl, and sha'nt part with her - Till age has made her hide whit-leather. - I'll keep her till I can no more, - And then I will not turn her o'er, - But with my goods at Argos land her, - And to my own old mansion hand her, - Where she shall card, and spin, and make - The bed which she has help'd to shake. - From all such blubb'ring rogues, depend on't, - I'll hold her safe, so mark the end on't. - Then cease thy canting sobs and groans, - And scamper ere I break thy bones. - - Away then sneak'd the harmless wizard, - Grumbling confoundedly i' th' gizzard, - And, as in doleful dumps he pass'd, - Look'd sharp for fear of being thrash'd. - But out of harm's way when he got, - To Phoebus he set up his throat: - Smintheus, Latona's son and heir, - Cilla's chief justice, hear my pray'r! - Thou link-boy of the world, that dost - In Chrysa's village rule the roast, - And know'st the measure, <i>inter nos</i>, - Of ev'ry wench in Tenedos, - Rat-catcher general of heaven, - Remember how much flesh I've given - To stay your stomach; beef and mutton - I never fail'd your shrine to put on; - And, as I knew you lik'd them dearly, - I hung a dozen garlands yearly - About your church, nor charg'd the warden - Or overseers a single farthing; - But paid the charge and swept the gallery - Out of my own poor lousy salary. - This I have done, I'll make't appear, - For more than five-and-fifty year. - In recompense I now insist - The Grecians feel thy toe and fist; - For sure thou canst not grudge the least - To vindicate so good a priest. - - Thus Chrysis pray'd: in dreadful ire, - The carrot-pated god took fire; - But ere he stirr'd he bent his bow, - That he might have the less to do, - Resolv'd before he did begin - To souse 'em whilst his hand was in. - Fierce as he mov'd the Greeks to find, - He made a rumbling noise behind; - His guts with grumbling surely never - Could roar so loud--it was his quiver, - Which, as he trotted, with a thwack - Rattled against his raw-bone back. - In darkness he his body shrouds, - By making up a cloak of clouds. - But, when he came within their view, - Twang went his trusty bow of yew: - He first began with dogs and mules, - And next demolish'd knaves and fools. - Nine nights he never went to sleep, - And knock'd 'em down like rotten sheep; - And would have sous'd 'em all, but Juno, - A scolding b----h as any you know, - Came and explain'd the matter fully - To Thetis' son, the Grecian bully, - Who ran full speed to summon all - The common council to the hall. - When seated, with a solemn look - Achilles rose, and thus he spoke: - - Neighbours, can any Grecian say - We ought not all to run away - From this curst place without delay? - Else soon our best and bravest cocks - Will be destroy'd by plague or pox. - We cannot long, though Jove doth back us, - Resist, whilst two such foes attack us. - I think 'tis time to spare the few - Our broils have left; but what think you? - A cunning man perhaps may tell us - The reason why this plague befel us - Or an old woman, that can dream, - May help us out in this extreme; - For dreams, if rightly you attend 'em, - Are true, when Jove thinks fit to send 'em. - Thus may we form some judgment what - This same Apollo would be at; - Whether he mauls each wicked sinner, - Because a mighty pimping dinner - He often had but then he knew - That we had damn'd short commons too. - If 'tis for that he makes such stir, - He's not the man I took him for: - But, as I've reason for my fears, - I vote to pay him all arrears. - Therefore let such a man be found, - Either above or under ground, - To tell us quickly how we may - In proper terms begin to pray, - That he may ease us of these curses, - And stay at home and mind his horses-- - Much better bus'ness for the spark - Than shooting Grecians in the dark. - - He said, and squatting on his breech, - Calchas rose up, and look'd on each: - With caution he began to speak - A speech compos'd of purest Greek. - He was a wizard, and could cast - A figure to find out things past; - And things to come he could foretel, - Almost as well as Sydrophel. - The diff'rent languages he knew - Of every kind of bird that flew, - Each word could construe that they spoke. - Or screech-owl's scream, or raven's croak, - And, by a science most profound, - Distinguish rotten eggs from sound. - When first the Grecians mann'd their boats - To sail and cut the Trojans' throats, - Safely to steer 'em through the tide, - They chose this wizard for their guide. - As slow as clock-work he arose, - Then with his fingers wip'd his nose: - Dubious to speak or hold his tongue, - His words betwixt his teeth were hung: - But, having shook 'em from his jaws, - As dogs shake weasels from their nose, - Away they came both loud and clear, - And told his mind, as you shall hear: - - Thou that art Jove's respected friend, - To what I speak be sure attend, - And in a twinkling shalt thou know, - Why Phoebus smokes the Grecians so, - But promise, should the chief attack me, - That thou my bully-rock wilt back me; - Because I know things must come out, - Will gripe him to the very <i>gut</i>. - These monarchs are so proud and haughty, - Subjects can't tell them when they're faulty, - Because, though now their fury drops, - Somehow or other out it pops. - And this remember whilst you live, - When kings can't punish, they'll forgive. - - Achilles thus: Old cock, speak out, - Speak freely without fear or doubt. - Smite my old pot-lid! but, so long - As I draw breath amidst this throng. - The bloodiest cur in all the crew - Sha'n't dare so much as bark at you: - Not e'en the chief, so grum and tall, - Who sits two steps above us all. - - These words the doubtful conj'ror cheer, - Who then proceeded without fear: - To th' gods you never play'd the thief, - But paid them well with tripe or beef; - But 'tis our chief provok'd Apollo - With this curst plague our camp to follow - Because his priest was vilely us'd, - His daughter kiss'd, himself abus'd. - The curate's pray's caus'd these disorders: - Gods fight for men in holy orders. - Nor will he from his purpose flinch, - Nor will his godship budge one inch, - But without mercy, great and small, - Will never cease to sweat us all, - If Agamemnon doth not send her, - With cooks and statesmen to attend her. - Then let's in haste the girl restore - Without a ransom; and, what's more, - Let's rams, and goats, and oxen give, - That priests and gods may let us live. - - Ready to burst with vengeful ire, - That made his bloodshot eyes strike fire, - Atrides, with an angry scowl, - Replies, The devil fetch your soul! - I've a great mind, you lousy wizard, - To lay my fist across your mazzard. - Son of an ugly squinting bitch, - Pray who the pox made you a witch? - I don't believe, you mongrel dog, - You ken a handsaw from a hog; - Nor know, although you thus dare flounce, - How many f----s will make an ounce; - And yet, an imp, can always see - Some mischief cooking up for me, - And think, because you are a priest, - You safely may with captains jest. - But I forewarn thee, shun the stroke, - Nor dare my mighty rage provoke. - A pretty fellow thou! to teach - Our men to murmur at thy speech, - Tell lies as thick as you can pack 'em, - And bring your wooden gods to back 'em - And all because a girl I keep - For exercise, to make me sleep. - Besides, the wench does all things neatly, - And <i>handles</i> my <i>affairs</i> completely. - She hems, marks linen, and she <i>stitches</i>, - And mends my doublet, hose, and breeches, - My Clytemnestra well I love, - But not so well as her, by Jove! - Yet, since you say we suffer slaughter - Because I kiss this parson's daughter, - Then go she must; I'll let her go, - Since the cross gods will have it so; - Rather than Phoebus thus shall drive, - And slay the people all alive, - From this dear loving wench I'll part, - The only comfort of my heart. - But, since I must resign for Greece, - I shall expect as good a <i>piece</i>: - 'Tis a great loss, and by my soul - All Greece shall join to make me whole! - Don't think that I, of all that fought, - Will take a broken pate for nought. - - Achilles, starting from his breech, - Replies, By Jove, a pretty speech! - Think'st thou the troops will in her stead - Send what they got with broken head; - Or that we shall esteem you right in - Purloining what we earn'd by fighting? - You may with bullying face demand, - But who the pox will understand? - If thou for plunder look'st, my boy, - Enough of that there is in Troy: - Her apple-stalls we down may pull, - And then we'll stuff thy belly full. - - The chief replies: For you, Achilles, - I care not two-pence; but my will is - Not to submit to be so serv'd, - And thou lie warm whilst I am starv'd. - Though thou in battle mak'st brave work, - Can beat the devil, pope, and Turk, - With Spaniards, Hollanders, and French, - I won't for that give up my wench: - Nor shall I, Mr. Bluff, d'ye see, - Resign my girl to pleasure thee. - Let something be produc'd to view, - Which I may have of her in lieu, - Something that's noble, great and good, - Worthy a prince of royal blood; - Just such another I should wish her, - As sev'n years since was Kitty Fisher; - Or else I will, since you provoke, - At all your prizes have a stroke; - Ulysses' booty will I seize, - Or thine or Ajax', if I please. - The man that's hurt may bawl and roar, - And swear, but he can do no more. - But this some other time may do, - I must go launch a sand-barge now: - Victuals and cooks I must take care, - With oars and pilots, to prepare; - See the ropes tarr'd, the bottom mended, - And the old sails well piec'd and bended - Then put the wench on board the boat, - Attended by some man of note, - By Creta's chief, or, if he misses, - By Ajax, or by sly Ulysses; - Or, if I please, I'll make you skip - Aboard, as captain of the ship. - We make no doubt but you with ease - His angry godship may appease; - Or else your goggle eyes, that fright us, - May scare him so he'll cease to smite us. - - You would have sworn this mortal twitch - Had given old Peleus' son the itch, - So hard he scratch'd; at last found vent, - And back to him this answer sent: - - Thou wretch, to all true hearts a stain, - Thou damn'd infernal rogue in grain! - Thou greater hypocrite than G-ml-y, - Thou dirtier dog than Jeremy L----y! - Whose deeds, like thine, will ever be - A scandal to nobility; - From this good day I hope no chief - Will fight thy broils, or eat thy beef. - How canst thou hope thy men will stand, - When under such a rogue's command? - What bus'ness I to fight thy battle? - The Trojans never stole my cattle. - My farm, secur'd by rocks and sands, - Was safe from all their thieving bands. - My steeds fed safe, both grey and dapple; - Nor could they steal a single apple - From any orchard did belong - To me, my fences were so strong. - I kept off all such sons of bitches - With quick-set hedges fac'd with ditches. - Our farm can all good things supply, - Our men can box, and so can I. - Hither we came, 'tis shame I'm sure, - To fight, for what? an arrant whore! - A pretty story this to tell. - Instead of being treated well, - As a reward for all our blows, - We're kick'd about by your dog's nose. - And dar'st thou think to seize my plunder, - For which I made the battle thunder, - And men and horses truckle under? - No! since it was the Grecians' gift, - To keep it I shall make a shift. - What wouldst thou have? thou hadst the <i>best</i> - Of every thing; nay, 'tis no jest: - But you take care to leave, I see, - The fighting trade to fools like me. - In this you show the statesman's skill, - To let fools fight whilst you sit still. - First I'm humbugg'd with some poor toy, - Then clapp'd o' th' back, and call'd brave boy. - This shall no more hold water, friend: - My 'prenticeship this day shall end. - When I go, and my men to boots, - I leave thee then a king of clouts. - - The general gave him tit for tat, - And answer'd, cocking first his hat: - Go, and be hang'd, you blust'ring whelp, - Pray who the murrain wants your help? - When you are gone, I know there are - Col'nels sufficient for the war, - Militia bucks that know no fears, - Brave fishmongers and auctioneers. - Besides, great Jove will fight for us, - What need we then this mighty fuss? - Thou lov'st to quarrel, fratch, and jangle, - To scold and swear, and fight and wrangle. - Great strength thou hast, and pray what then? - Art thou so stupid, canst not ken, - The gods, that ev'ry thing can see, - Give strength to bears as well as thee? - Of all Jove's sons, a bastard host, - For reasons good, I hate thee most. - Prithee be packing; thou'rt not fit, - Or here to stand, or there to sit: - In your own parish kick your scrubs, - They're taught to bear such kind of rubs; - But, for my part, I scorn the help - Of such a noisy, bullying whelp: - Go therefore, friend, and learn at school, - First to obey, and then to rule. - The gods they say for Chryseis send, - And to restore her I intend; - But look what follows, Mr. Bully! - See if I don't convince thee fully, - That thy bluff wench with sandy hair - The loss I suffer shall repair: - I'll let thee feel what 'tis to be - A rival to a chief like me; - That thou and all these folks may know, - Great men are only subject to - The gods, or right or wrong they do. - - Had you but seen Achilles fret it, - I think you never could forget it; - A sight so dreadful ne'er was seen, - He sweat for very rage and spleen: - Long was he balanc'd at both ends; - When reason mounted, rage descends; - The last commanded sword lug out; - The first advis'd him not to do't. - With half-drawn weapon fierce he stood, - Eager to let the general blood; - When Pallas, swift descending down, - Lent him a knock upon the crown; - Then roar'd as loud as she could yelp, - Lugging his ears, 'Tis I, you whelp! - Now Mrs. Juno, 'cause they both - Were fav'rites, was exceeding loth - To have 'em quarrel; so she sent - This wench all mischief to prevent, - And, to obstruct her being seen, - Lent her a cloud to make a screen. - - Pelides wonder'd who could be - So bold, and turn'd about to see: - He knew the twinkling of her eyes, - And loud as he could bawl, he cries, - Goddess of Wisdom! pray what weather - Has blown your goatskin doublet hither? - Howe'er, thou com'st quite opportune - To see how basely I'm run down; - Thou com'st most <i>a-propos incog.</i> - To see how I will trim this dog: - For, by this trusty blade, his life - Or mine shall end this furious strife! - - To whom reply'd the blue-ey'd Pallas, - I come to save thee from the gallows: - Thou'rt surely either mad or drunk, - To threaten murder for a punk: - Prithee, now let this passion cool; - For once be guided by a fool. - From heav'n I sous'd me down like thunder, - To keep your boiling passion under; - For white-arm'd Juno bid me say, - Let reason now thy passion sway, - And give it vent some other day; - Sheathe thy cheese-toaster in its case, - But call him scoundrel to his face. - To Juno both alike are dear, - And both alike to me, I'll swear. - In a short time the silly whelp - Will give a guinea for thy help; - Only just now revenge forbear, - And be content to scold and swear. - - Achilles thus: With ears and eyes - I mind thee, goddess bold and wise! - 'Tis hard; but since 'tis your command, - Depend upon't I'll hold my hand-- - Knowing, if your advice I take, - Some day a recompense you'll make: - Besides, of all the heavenly crew, - I pay the most regard to you. - This said, he rams into the sheath - His rusty instrument of death. - - (Pallas then instantly took flight, - Astride her broom-stick, out of sight; - And ere you could repeat twice seven, - Had reach'd the outward gate of heaven.) - His gizzard still was mighty hot, - And boil'd like porridge in a pot; - Atrides he did so randan, - He call'd him all but gentleman; - By Jove, says he, thou'rt always drunk, - And always squabbling for a punk. - Thou dog in face! thou deer in heart! - Thou call'd a fighter! thou a f--t! - When didst thou e'er in ambush lie, - Unless to seize some mutton pie? - And there you're safe, because you can - Run faster than the baker's man. - When fighting comes you bid us fight, - And claim the greatest profit by't. - Great Agamemnon safer goes, - To rob his friends than plunder foes: - And he who dares to contradict - Is sure to have his pockets pick'd: - Hear then, you pilfering dirty cur, - Whose thieving makes so great a stir; - And let the crowd about us hear - What I by this same truncheon swear, - Which to the tree whereon it grew - Will never join, nor I with you, - The devil fetch me if I do! - Therefore, I say, by this same stick, - Expect no more I'll come i' th' nick - Your luggs to save: let Hector souse ye, - And with his trusty broomshaft douse ye. - God help us all, I know thou'lt say, - Then stare and gape, and run away: - All this will happen, I conjecture, - The very next time you see Hector; - And then thyself thou'lt hang, I trow, - For using great Achilles so. - This said, his truncheon, gilded all - Like ginger-bread upon a stall, - Around the top and bottom too, - Slap bang upon the floor he threw. - His wrath Atrides could not hold, - But cock'd his mouth again to scold, - And talk'd away at such a rate, - He distanc'd hard-mouth'd scolding Kate, - The orator of Billingsgate. - - Whilst thus they rant and scold and swear - Old Square-toes rises from his chair; - With honey words your ears he'd sooth, - Pomatum was not half so smooth. - Nestor had fill'd the highest stations - For almost three whole generations; - At ev'ry meeting took the chair, - Had been a dozen times lord-mayor, - And, what you hardly credit will, - Remain'd a fine old Grecian still. - On him with gaping jaws they look, - Whilst the old coney-catcher spoke: - To Greece 'twill be a burning shame, - But to the Trojans special game, - That our best leaders, men so stout, - For whores and rogues should thus fall out: - Young men the old may treat as mules, - We know full well young men are fools; - Therefore, to lay the case before ye - Plain as I can, I'll tell a story: - I once a set of fellows knew, - All hearts of oak, and backs of yew: - To look for such would be in vain, - I ne'er shall see the like again. - Though bruis'd from head to foot they fought on, - Pirithous was himself a Broughton. - Bold Dryas was as hard as steel, - His knuckles would make Buckhurst feel; - And strong-back'd Theseus, though a sailor, - Would single-handed beat the Nailor. - Great Polyphemus too I brag on, - He fought and kick'd like Wantley's dragon; - And Cineus often would for fun - Make constables and watchmen run. - Such were my cronies, rogues in buff, - Who taught me how to kick and cuff. - With these the boar stood little chance; - They made the four-legg'd Centaurs prance. - Now these brave boys, these hearts of oak, - Were all attention when I spoke; - And listen'd to my fine oration - Like Whitfield's gaping congregation: - Though I was young, they thought me wise; - You sure may now with me advise. - Atrides, don't Briseis seek; - For, if you do, depend, each Greek, - The dastard rogue as well as brave, - Will say our king's both fool and knave. - The want of brains is no great shame, - 'Cause nature there is most to blame; - But this plain fact by all is known, - If you're a rogue, the fault's your own. - Achilles, don't you play the fool, - And snub the king; for he must rule. - Thou art in fight the first, I grant; - As brave as Mars, or John-a-Gaunt: - But then you must allow one thing, - No man should scold and huff a king. - Matters you know are just this length, - He has got pow'r, and you have strength - Of each let's take a proper sup - To make a useful mixture up. - Do you, Atrides, strive to ease - Your heart; this bully I'll appease. - I'd rather give five hundred pound - Than have Pelides quit the ground. - Bravo! old boy! the king replies, - I swear my vet'ran's wondrous wise: - But that snap-dragon won't submit - To laws, unless he thinks 'em fit; - Because he can the Trojans swinge, - He fancies I to him should cringe: - But I, in spite of all his frumps, - Shall make him know I'm king of trumps. - - Achilles quickly broke the thread - Of this fine speech; and thus he said: - - Now, smite me, but I well deserv'd - To be so us'd, when first I serv'd - So great a rogue as you; but damn me - If you another day shall flam me: - Seize my Briseis, if you list, - I've pass'd my word I won't resist; - Safely then do it, for no more, - For any woman, wife or whore, - Achilles boxes; but take care - Your scoundrels steal no other ware: - No more Achilles dare t'affront, - Lest he should call thee to account, - And the next scurvy squabble close, - By wringing off thy snotty nose. - - This Billingsgate affair being o'er, - Sullen they turn'd 'em to the door. - Achilles in a hurry went, - And sat down sulky in his tent: - Patroclus, as a friend should do, - Both grumbled and look'd sulky too. - Mean time Atrides fitted out - From Puddle Dock a smuggling-boat. - On deck Miss Chryseis took her stand; - Ulysses had the chief command. - The off'rings in the hold they stuff'd, - Then, all sails set, away they luff'd. - The chol'ric chief doth next essay - The soldiers' filth to wash away; - A cart and horse to every tent, - He with a noisy bellman sent: - The bell did signify, You must - Without delay bring out your dust: - Then made 'em stand upon the shore, - And wash their dirty limbs all o'er: - Next, by advice of Doctor Grimstone, - He rubb'd their mangey joints with brimstone, - Because, when first they sally'd forth, - Some mercenaries from the north - Had brought a queer distemper, which - The learned doctors call'd the itch. - He next begins to cut the throats - Of bulls, and sheep, and lambs, and goats; - The legs and loins in order laid, - To Phoebus all his share is paid: - Apollo, as the smoke arose, - Snuff'd ev'ry atom up his nose; - And, rather than they would provoke him, - They sent him smoke enough to choke him. - Still in the midst of all this coil, - Atrides felt his ewer boil: - Talthybius and Euribates, - Two ticket porters, did await his - Dread will, to carry goods and chattels, - Or run with messages in battles: - To these he speaks:--Ye scoundrels two, - What I command observe ye do; - Run to Achilles' tent, take heed, - And bring away his wench with speed; - Tell him you're order'd to attend her, - And I expect he'll quickly send her; - Else with a file of musqueteers - I'll beat his tent about his ears. - - [Illustration: Book I, page 41. - The hero in his tent they found, - His day-lights fixt upon the ground.] - - They hung an arse, what could they do? - They'd rather not, but yet must go: - Pensive they trod the barren sand, - On this side sea, on that side land, - And look'd extreme disconsolate, - Fearing at least a broken pate. - The hero in his tent they found, - His day-lights fix'd upon the ground: - They relish'd not his surly look, - So out of fear their distance took: - Quickly he guess'd they were in trouble, - And scorn'd to make their burden double - But with his finger, or his thumb, - Beckon'd the tardy knaves to come. - Ye trusty messengers, draw near, - And don't bedaub yourselves for fear, - Though you smell strong; but if 'tis so, - Pray clean yourselves before ye go; - Your master, if my thoughts prove true, - Will soon smell stronger far than you. - I partly guess for what you came; - Poor rogues, like you, should bear no blame. - Compell'd, you hither bent your way; - And servants always should obey. - Patroclus, fetch this square-stern'd jade, - Let her be to his tent convey'd: - But hark, ye messengers declare, - What I by Gog and Magog swear, - That though in blood all Greece shall wallow, - With fretting I'll consume no tallow, - But coolly let, and so I tell ye, - The Trojans beat your bones to jelly; - And if to me they are but civil, - May drive you scoundrels to the devil. - Your muddy-pated, hot-brain'd chief, - (Whose folly far exceeds belief) - When he has got a broken pate, - Will find himself an ass too late. - Mean time the bold Patroclus bears - The red-hair'd wench all drown'd in tears; - Who, with a woful heavy heart, - (As loth from his strong back to part) - Whilst with the porters twain she went, - Kept squinting backward to his tent. - - Now, when the buxom wench was gone, - What think you doth this lubber-loon, - But, when he found no mortal near him, - Roar so, 'twould do you good to hear him; - And hanging his great jolter head - O'er the salt sea, he sobb'd, and said: - - Oh, mother! since I'm to be shot, - Or some way else must go to pot, - I think great Jove, if he did right, - Should scour my fame exceeding bright. - 'Tis quite reverse: yon brazen knave - Has stole the plumpest wench I have; - And in the face of all the throng - Of constables has done me wrong. - - The goddess heard him under water, - And ran as fast as she could patter: - She saw he'd almost broke his heart, - And, like good mother, took his part: - - My son, I'm vext to hear thee cry; - Come, tell mamma the reason why. - From th' bottom of his wame he sigh'd, - And to his mammy thus reply'd: - - For what that rogue has made me cry, - You know, I'm sure, as well as I: - Yet since you bid me tell my story, - I'll whip it over in a hurry. - What think you that vile scoundrel's done, - That Agamemnon, to your son? - Because his pretty girl was gone, - He must have mine, forsooth, or none. - The Grecians gave to me this prize: - He huffs the Greeks, and damns their eyes. - We went to Thebes, and sack'd a village, - And brought away a world of pillage: - Amongst the plunder that was taken, - Besides fat geese, and eggs, and bacon, - We got some wenches plump and fair, - Of which one fell to that rogue's share: - But in the middle of our feast, - There came a hobbling red-nos'd priest; - In a great wallet that old dreamer - Had brought some presents to redeem her, - And made such humble supplication, - Attended with a fine oration, - That ev'ry Greek, except Atrides, - On the old hobbling parson's side is. - But he, of no one soul afraid, - Swore blood-and-oons he'd keep the maid - And, with an answer most uncivil, - Damn'd the old fellow to the devil. - The priest walk'd home in doleful dumps - (Like Witherington upon his stumps): - But, it is plain, he made a holla - That reach'd his loving friend Apollo; - For he in wrath, most furiously, - Began to smite us hip and thigh; - And had not I found out a prophet, - That told us all the reason of it, - Burn my old shoes, if e'er a sinner - Had now been left to eat a dinner; - But that, as sure as cits of London - Oft leave their spouses' business undone, - And trudge away to Russel-street - Some little dirty whore to meet, - Whilst the poor wife, to cure her dumps, - Works her apprentice to the stumps; - So sure this god, for rage or fun, - Had pepper'd ev'ry mother's son. - 'Twas I, indeed, did first advise - To cook him up a sacrifice, - And then his pardon strive to gain - By sending home the wench again; - For which the damn'd confounded churl - Swore he would have my bouncing girl: - And I this minute, you must know, - Like a great fool, have let her go: - For which, no doubt, it will be said - Your son has got a chuckle head. - To Jove then go, and catch him by - The hand, or foot, or knee, or thigh; - Hold him but fast, and coax him well. - And mind you that old story tell, - How you of all the gods held out - When they once rais'd a rebel rout, - And brought a giant from Guildhall - With face so grim he scar'd 'em all: - When once you'd got him rais'd above, - And plac'd him by the side of Jove, - So fast with both his hands he thunder'd, - The rebels swore he'd got a hundred, - Threw down the ropes they'd brought to bind 'em, - And, scamp'ring, never look'd behind 'em: - Tell him, for this, to drive pell mell - The Grecian sons of whores to hell, - That Atreus' son, that stupid fool, - May have no scoundrels left to rule; - And then he'll hang himself for spite, - He durst the boldest Grecian slight. - - His mother's heart was almost broke, - To hear how dolefully he spoke: - But having belch'd, she thus replies, - The salt brine running from her eyes: - - O Killey, since the Fates do stint - Thy precious life, the devil's in't - That thou must likewise bear to boots - This scurvy, mangey rascal's flouts: - But take thy mammy's good advice, - And his thee homeward in a trice; - Or, if thou'd rather choose to stay, - Don't help the dogs in any fray. - Depend upon't, to Jove I'll go, - And let him all the matter know: - He junkets now with swarthy faces - (For he, like men, has all his paces), - And will continue at the feast - Ten or eleven days at least: - Taking, like our Jamaica planters, - Their fill of what our vilest ranters - Would puke at but these kind of beast - Esteem it as a noble feast; - I mean the breaking-up the trenches - Of sooty, sweaty negro wenches - (Though most o' th' planters that thus roam, - Like Jove, have wife enough at home.) - Soon as his guts have got their fill, - I'll tell him all, by Jove I will! - Till he has granted my petition, - Don't stir to keep 'em from perdition; - Not e'en to save their souls, plague rot 'em! - So souse she plung'd, and reach'd the bottom. - - Mean time Ulysses, full of cares, - Had moor'd his boat at Chrysa's stairs: - When sails were furl'd, and all made snug, - They tipp'd the can, and pass'd the jug; - Then fell to work, and brought their store - Of cows and rotten sheep ashore: - This done, the last of all came out - The girl that caus'd this woful rout. - Ulysses, ever on the lurch, - Hurries the girl away to church, - Knowing full well that there he had - Best chance of finding her old dad; - And as he gave her to th' old man, - To lie[1] and cant he thus began: - - I come upon my bended knees, - Thine and Apollo's wrath t' appease; - And that I'm in good earnest, see - Thy girl come back, and ransom-free; - And, what I own is boldly said, - I've brought her with her maidenhead; - For which, I hope, our friend you'll stand, - That Sol may hold his heavy hand, - The parson hugg'd and kiss'd his daughter, - And shak'd the hands of them that brought her - So pleas'd to see the girl again, - He fell to prayers might and main; - And, whilst the Greeks the cattle slay, - The parson thus was heard to pray: - - Apollo, pr'ythee hear me now, - As eke thou didst nine days ago: - As thou at my request didst murder - The Grecians, pr'ythee go no further; - Hear, once again, thy priest's petition, - And mend their most bedaub'd condition. - - Apollo, as the sound drew near, - To ev'ry syllab lent an ear: - And now they fell to cutting throats - Of bulls and oxen, sheep and goats. - After the day-light god was serv'd, - The priest for all the people carv'd. - But how the hungry whoresons scaff'd; - How eagerly the beer they quaff'd, - Till they had left no single chink, - Either to hold more meat or drink, - None can describe: they grew so mellow, - Nothing was heard but whoop and halloo; - Rare songs they sung, and catches too-- - (The composition good and true) - Apollo made 'em, but took care - They should not last above a year, - Well knowing that the future race - Of men all knowledge would disgrace, - And that his lines must have great luck, - Not to give place to Stephen Duck. - - At sun-set all hands went from shore - On board their oyster-boat to snore. - I' th' morning, when they hoist their sail, - Apollo lent a mack'rel gale, - With which they nimbly cross'd the main, - And haul'd their boat ashore again. - - But now 'tis time we look about - And find the bold Achilles out: - Pensive he sat, and bit his thumbs; - No comfort yet, no mammy comes: - The days had number'd just eleven, - When Jupiter return'd to heaven; - He'd got his belly full of smacks - From thick-lip'd Ethiopian blacks. - - The mother on her word must think; - So up she mounted in a twink, - Approach'd his godship, whom she took - Fast by the hand, and thus she spoke: - - If ever I had luck to be - Useful in time of need to thee, - (Which, I am sure, you can't deny, - Unless you tell a cursed lie) - Quickly revenge th' affront that's done - By Agamemnon to my son. - Let Hector thrash 'em, if he list, - Till ev'ry Grecian rogue's bepiss'd, - And make them run like frighten'd rats - From mother Dobson's tabby cats. - - Whilst Jove considers what to say, - Onward she goes; she'll have no nay: - - You must with my request comply, - My dearest dad, so don't deny; - But let the heavenly rabble see - Some kindness is reserv'd for me. - - Then answers he who rolls the thunder: - I'm much amaz'd, and greatly wonder, - That you should thus attempt, with tears, - To set my rib and me by th' ears; - This, by my soul! will make rare work: - Juno will rate me like a Turk: - You surely know, and have known long, - The devil cannot match her tongue: - To Troy, I'm sure, I wish full well, - She ne'er forgets that tale to tell: - But his away from hence, lest she - Should spy you holding chat with me. - If I but say I'll grant your suit, - You may depend upon't I'll do't: - With head (observe) I'll make a nod, - That cannot be revers'd by god. - The thund'rer then his noddle shakes, - And Greece, like city custard, quakes. - Thetis, well pleas'd the Greeks to souse, - Dives under water like a goose; - Whilst Jove to th' upper house repairs, - And calls about him all his peers; - Who ran t' attend his call much faster - Than schoolboys run to meet their master. - All silent stood the gaping bevy, - Like sneaking courtiers at a levee, - Juno excepted: fear she scorns, - She hates all manners, damns all forms; - And because Jove had just been talking - With Thetis (nothing more provoking), - Her passion rose, and she ding dong - Would quarrel with him, right or wrong. - - 'Tis mighty civil, on my life, - To keep all secrets from your wife: - Is this the method, Mr. Jove, - You take to show your wife your love? - Pray who's that brimstone-looking quean, - With whom you whispering was seen? - Perhaps you're set some secret task, - And I'm impertinent to ask. - Is there a wife 'tween here and Styx, - Like me, would bear your whoring tricks? - But, goodman Roister! I'd have you know, - Though you are Jove, I still am Juno! - - Madam, says Jove, by all this prate, - I partly guess what you'd be at; - You want the secrets to disclose, - Which I conceal from friends and foes; - You only seek your own disquiet; - Secrets to women are bad diet. - A secret makes a desp'rate rumble, - Nor ceases in the gut to grumble - Till vent it finds; then out it flies, - Attended with ten thousand lies; - All characters to pieces tears, - And sets the neighbourhood by th' ears. - What's proper I'll to you relate, - The rest remains with me and Fate: - But from this day I'll order, no man - That's wise shall trust a tattling woman. - - The goddess with the goggle eyes - Roll'd 'em about, and thus replies: - - I find 'twill be in vain to plead, - When once you get it in your head - To contradict your loving wife; - You value neither noise nor strife, - But, spite of all that we can say, - You mules will always have your way. - But yet for Greece I'm sore afraid, - E'er since that cunning white-legg'd jade, - That Thetis, a long conf'rence had; - I'm sure she's hatching something bad, - And hath some mighty favour won - For her dear ranting roaring son? - Else, by my soul, you'd not have given - A nod that shook both earth and heaven; - Perhaps you'll take the whore's-bird's side, - And thrash my Grecians back and hide. - - Flux me! quoth Jove, thy jealous pate, - Instead of love, will move my hate. - I tell thee, cunning thou must be - To worm this secret out of me; - 'Tis better far, good wife, to cease - To plague me thus, and study peace; - Or if you want to make resistance, - Call all the gods to your assistance; - So all your jackets will I baste, - You'll not rebel again in haste. - - Juno, with face as broad as platter, - Soon found she had mista'en the master; - She relish'd not this surly dish, - So sat her down as mute as fish: - At which the guests were so confounded, - That all their mirth was well nigh drowned - Their knives and forks they every one - Before their greasy plates laid down; - Each mouth was ready cock'd, to beg - Leave to depart, and make a leg; - When Juno's son, ycleped Vulcan, - A special fellow at a full can, - Who was of handicrafts the top, - And kept a noted blacksmith's shop, - Where he made nets, steel caps, and thunder, - And finish'd potlids to a wonder; - He, finding things were going wrong, - And that they'd fall by th' ears ere long, - Starts up, and in a merry strain - Hammer'd a speech from his own brain. - - Quoth he, What pity 'tis that we, - Who should know nought but jollity, - Should scold and squabble, brawl and wrangle, - And about mortal scoundrels jangle! - In peace put we the can about, - Let Englishmen in drink fall out, - And, at the meetings of the trade, - Fight when the reck'ning should be paid. - Mother, you know not what you're doing; - To CALLOT thus will be your ruin; - He'll some time, in a dev'lish fury, - Do you some mischief, I'll assure you: - Yet, I'll lay sixpence to a farthing, - He'll kiss you, if you ask his pardon. - This said, a swingeing bowl he takes, - And drank it off for both their sakes; - Then with a caper fill'd another, - Which he presented to his mother: - - Not courtier-like I hand this bowl: - But take it from an honest soul, - That means and thinks whate'er he says; - It won't be so in future days: - Here, drink Jove's health, and own his sway: - You know all women must obey. - When once my father's in a passion, - He's dev'lish cross, hear my relation: - In your good cause I felt his twist, - My leg he seiz'd in his strong wrist; - In vain it was with him to grapple, - He grasp'd me as you would an apple; - And from his mutton-fist when hurl'd, - For three long days and nights I twirl'd; - At last upon the earth fell squash, - My legs were broken all to smash: - 'Tis true, they're set, as you may see, - But most folks think damn'd awkwardly. - He then the bowl, with clownish grace, - Fill'd round, and wip'd his sooty face, - Then limp'd away into his place. - - This cur'd them all from being dull, - And made 'em laugh their bellies full: - Once more their teeth to work they set, - And laid about 'em till they sweat, - Drinking, like well-fed aldermen, - A bumper every now and then, - Which they took care their guts to put in - Whilst t' other slice of beef was cutting; - For they, like cits, allow'd no crime - So great as that of losing time, - At home, abroad, or any meeting - Where the debate must end in eating. - Now they were in for't, all day long - They booz'd about, and had a song: - The fiddlers scrap'd both flat and sharp; - Apollo thrum'd the old Welch harp: - Nine ballad-singers from the street - Were fetch'd, with voices all so sweet, - Compar'd with them, Mansoli's squeaking - Would seem like rusty hinges creaking. - At sun-set[2], with a heavy head, - Each drunkard reel'd him home to bed, - Vulcan, who was the royal coiner, - Besides both carpenter and joiner, - Had built for every god a house, - And scorn'd to take a single sous. - Now night came on, the thund'rer led - His helpmate to her wicker bed; - There they agreed, and where's the wonder? - His sceptre rais'd, she soon knock'd under. - - - - [1] Every body knows Ulysses could lie with a very grave face. - - [2] Homer makes the gods go home at sun-set; I wish he could make all -country justices and parsons do the same. - - - - - THE SECOND BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Jove, or by fame he much bely'd is, - Sends off a Dream to hum Atrides: - His conscience telling him it meet is - To make his promise good to Thetis; - Gave it commission as it went, - To tell the cull by whom 'twas sent; - And bid it fill his head top full, - Of taking Troy, and cock and bull. - The Vision goes as it was bid, - And fairly turns the poor man's head, - Who eagerly began to stare - At castles building in the air, - And fancy'd, as the work went on, - He heard Troy's walls come tumbling down. - But ere he starts, he has an eye - The metal of his rogues to try: - He tells the chiefs, when he proposes - That homeward all shall point their noses, - They must take care, when he had sped, - To come and knock it all o' th' head. - The plot succeeds; they're glad to go; - But sly Ulysses answer'd, No; - Then drove his broomstick with a thwack - Upon Thersites' huckle back; - Check'd other scoundrels with a frown, - And knock'd the sauciest rascals down; - Proving, that at improper times - To speak the truth's the worst of crimes. - - Th' assembly met; old Nestor preaches, - And all the chiefs, like schoolboys, teaches - Orders each diff'rent shire to fix - A rendezvous, nor longer mix, - But with their own bluff captains stay, - Whether they fight or run away: - And whilst thus gather'd in a cluster, - They nick the time, and make a muster. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK II. - - - - The watch past twelve o'clock were roaring, - And citizens in bed were snoring, - And all the gods of each degree - Were snoring hard for company, - Whilst Jove, whose mind could get no ease, - Perplex'd with cares as well as fleas - (For cares he in his bosom carried, - As every creature must that's married), - Was plotting, since he had begun, - How he might honour Thetis' son; - And scratch'd, and scratch'd, but yet he could - Not find a method for his blood - To keep his word. At last he caught, - By scratching hard, a lucky thought - (And 'faith, I think, 'twas no bad scheme); - To send the Grecian chief a Dream, - Made of a Cloud, on which he put - A coat and waistcoat, ready cut - Out of the self-same kind of stuff, - But yet it suited well enough - To give it shape: Now, Mr. Dream, - Take care you keep the shape you seem, - Says Jove; then do directly go - To Agamemnon's tent below: - Tell him to arm his ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves, - Then instantly their time employ - To rattle down the walls of Troy. - Tell him, in this, Miss Destiny - And all the heav'nly crew agree: - For Juno has made such a riot, - The gods do aught to keep her quiet. - - Away goes Dream upon the wing, - And stands before the snoring king: - Grave Nestor's coat and figure took, - As old as he, as wise his look, - Rubs the cull's noddle with his wings, - And, full of guile, thus small he sings: - - Monarch, how canst thou sleeping lie, - When thou hast other fish to fry? - O Atreus' son, thou mighty warrior, - Whose father was a skilful farrier, - Hast thou no thought about decorum, - Who art the very head o'th' quorum? - I shame myself to think I'm catching - Thee fast asleep, instead of watching. - Is not all Greece pinn'd on thy lap? - Rise, and for once postpone thy nap, - Lest by some rogue it should be said, - The chief of chiefs went drunk to bed: - For Jove, by whom you are respected, - Says your affairs sh'an't be neglected; - So sends you word he now is poring - On your concerns, whilst you are snoring: - He bids thee arm thy ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves, - Then instantly thy time employ - To rattle down the walls of Troy: - To this, he adds, Miss Destiny - And all the heav'nly crew agree: - For Juno has made such a riot, - The gods do aught to keep her quiet. - - Then nothing more this Nothing says, - But turn'd about, and went his ways. - Up starts the king, and with his nail - Scratch'd both his head, and back, and tail; - And all the while his fancy's tickl'd, - To think how Troy would soon be pickl'd. - A silly goose! he little knew - What surly Jove resolv'd to do; - What shoals of sturdy knaves must tumble - Before they could the Trojans humble. - Down on an ancient chopping-block - This mighty warrior clapp'd his dock - (The block, worn out with chopping meat, - Now made the chief a rare strong seat): - Then don'd his shirt with Holland cuff, - For, Frenchman-like, he lay in buff; - Next o'er his greasy doublet threw - A thread-bare coat that once was blue, - But dirt and time had chang'd its hue; - Slipp'd on his shoes, but lately cobbled, - And to the board of council hobbled; - But took his sword with brazen hilt, - And wooden sceptre finely gilt. - Now, Madam Morn popp'd up her face, - And told 'em day came on apace; - When Agamemnon's beadles rouse - The Greeks to hear this joyful news. - He long'd, like breeding wife, it seems, - To tell his tickling, pleasing dreams. - I' th' int'rim, trotting to the fleet, - Old Nestor there he chanc'd to meet, - Whose tent he borrows for that morn, - To make a council-chamber on; - And reason good he had, I ween, - It kept his own apartment clean. - - Now all-hands met, he takes his time, - And told his case in prose or rhyme: - - Friends, neighbours, and confed'rates bold, - Attend, whilst I my tale unfold: - As in my bed I lay last night, - I saw an odd-look'd kind of sprite; - It seem'd, grave Nestor, to my view, - Just such a queer old put as you-- - 'Tis fact, for all your surly look-- - And this short speech distinctly spoke: - - How canst thou, monarch, sleeping lie, - When thou hast other fish to fry? - O Atreus' son, thou mighty warrior, - Whose father was a special farrier - (Which, by the by, although 'tis true, - Yet I'd be glad you'd tell me how - This bushy-bearded spirit knew), - Hast thou no thought about decorum, - Who art the very head o' th' quorum? - I shame myself to think I'm catching - Thee fast asleep, instead of watching. - Is not all Greece pinn'd on thy lap? - Rise, and for once postpone thy nap; - Or by some rogue it will be said, - The chief of chiefs went drunk to bed: - For Jove, by whom you are respected, - Says your affairs sha'n't be neglected: - But now on your affair he's poring, - Whilst you lie f--ting here and snoring: - He bids thee arm thy ragged knaves - With cudgels, spits, and quarter-staves; - For now the time is come, he swears, - To pull Troy's walls about their ears: - Nay more, he adds, the gods agree - With Fate itself it thus shall be. - Jove and his queen have had their quantum - Of jaw, and such-like rantum-scantum: - She now puts on her best behaviours, - And they're as kind as incle-weavers. - Then nothing more the Vision said, - But kick'd me half way out of bed. - This very token did, I vow, - Convince me that the dream was true; - For, waking soon, I found my head - And shoulders on the floor were laid, - Whilst my long legs kept snug in bed: - Therefore, since Jove, with good intent, - So rare a messenger has sent, - We should directly, I've a notion, - Put all our jolly boys in motion: - But first, what think you if we settle - A scheme to try the scarecrows' mettle, - As with nine years they're worn to th' stumps? - I'll feign my kingship in the dumps - With Jove himself, and then propose - That homeward they direct their nose. - But take you care, if I succeed, - To show yourselves in time of need: - Swear you don't mind the gen'ral's clack, - But in a hurry drive 'em back. - - He spoke, and squatting on his breech, - Square-toes got up and made a speech: - I think our chief would not beguile us, - Says the old constable of Pylos. - Had any soul though, but our leader, - For dreams and visions been a pleader, - I should, my boys, to say no worse, - Have call'd him an old guzzling nurse. - I seldom old wives' tales believe, - Nurses invent 'em to deceive. - But now there can be no disguise, - For kings should scorn to tell folks lies; - So let us e'en, with one accord, - Resolve to take his royal word: - For though the speech is queerish stuff, - 'Tis the king's speech, and that's enough. - I therefore say, My buffs so stout, - Of this same vision make no doubt; - The tokens are so very clear, - There can be little room for fear. - Did not our monarch, as he said, - Feel the Dream kick him out of bed, - And, by his waking posture, knew - His sense of feeling told him true? - Then, since affairs so far are gone, - Let's put our fighting faces on. - He said; nor did they longer stay, - But from the council haste away. - The leaders bring their men along; - They still were many thousands strong; - As thick as gardens swarm with bees, - Or tailors' working-boards with fleas: - And Jove, for fear they should not all - Attend, and mind their general's call, - Bid Fame, a chatt'ring, noisy strumpet, - To sound her longest brazen trumpet: - - [Illustration: Book II, page 82. - He haw'd and hemm'd before he spoke, - Then raised his truncheon made of oak, - 'Twas Vulcan's making, which Jove gave - To Mercury, A thieving knave.] - - This brought such numbers on the lawn, - The very earth was heard to groan, - Nine criers went to still their noise; - That they might hear their leader's voice. - He haw'd and hemm'd before he spoke, - Then rais'd his truncheon made of oak: - 'Twas Vulcan's making, which Jove gave - To Mercury, a thieving knave; - Who going down to Kent to steal hops, - Resign'd his staff to carter Pelops; - From Pelops it to Atreus came; - He to Thyestes left the same, - Who kept it dry, lest rain should rot it, - And when he dy'd Atrides got it: - With this he rules the Greeks with ease, - Or breaks their noddles if he please; - Now leaning on't, he silence broke, - And with so grum an accent spoke, - Those people that the circle stood in, - Fancy'd his mouth was full of pudding. - - Thus he began: We've got, my neighbours, - Finely rewarded for our labours: - On Jove, you know, we have rely'd, - And several conjurers have try'd, - But both, I shame to say't, have ly'd. - One says, that we on board our scullers - Should all return with flying colours; - Another, we should cram our breeches - As full as they can hold with riches, - For presents to our wives and misses, - Which they'll repay us back with kisses. - Instead of this, we're hack'd and worn, - Our money spent, and breeches torn; - And, to crown all, our empty sculls - Fill'd with strange tales of cocks and bulls. - Now Jove is got on t'other tack, - And says we all must trundle back: - Dry blows we've got, and, what is more, - Our credit's lost upon this shore: - Nor can I find one soul that's willing - To trust us now a single shilling. - No longer since than yesterday, - Our butcher broke, and ran away: - The baker swears too, by Apollo, - If times don't mend he soon must follow: - As for the alehouse-man, 'tis clear - That half-penny a pot on beer - Will send him off before next year; - And then we all must be content - To guzzle down pure element. - A time there was, when who but we! - Now were humbugg'd, you plainly see; - And, what's the worst of all, you'll say, - A handful makes us run away: - For, if our numbers I can ken, - Where Troy has one man, we have ten. - Nine years, and more, the Grecian host - Have been upon this cursed coast; - And Troy's as far from being sack'd - As when it was at first attack'd; - The more we kill, the more appear; - They grow as fast as mushrooms here! - Like Toulon frigates rent and torn, - Our leaky boats to stumps are worn; - Then let's be packing and away; - For what the vengeance should we stay? - Our wives without it won't remain; - Pray how the pox should they contain? - For one that fasts, I'll lay there's ten - Are now employing journeymen: - If that's the case, I know you'll say - 'Tis time indeed to hyke away; - Let us no more then make this fuss, - Troy was not doom'd to fall by us. - - Most of the rabble, that were not - Consulted in this famous plot, - Were hugely pleas'd, and straight begin - To cry, God save our noble king! - He that spoke last, spoke like a man. - So whipp'd about, and off they ran. - As they jogg'd on, their long lank hair - Did like the dyers' rags appear; - Which you in every street will find - Waving like streamers in the wind: - To it they went with all their heart, - To get things ready to depart; - And made a sort of humming roar, - Like billows rumbling to the shore. - - Halloo, cry'd some, here lend a hand - To heave the lighters off the strand; - Don't lounging stand to bite your nails, - But bustle, boys, and bend the sails. - Now all the vessels launch'd had been, - If scolding Juno had not seen: - That noisy brimstone seldom slept, - But a sharp eye for ever kept; - Not out of love to th' Grecian state, - But to poor harmless Paris hate, - Because on Ida's mountain he - Swore Venus better made than she: - And most are of opinion still, - He show'd himself a man of skill; - For Juno, ever mischief hatching, - Had wrinkled all her bum with scratching, - Whilst this enchanting Venus was - As smooth all o'er as polish'd glass. - - Since then there was so wide a difference, - Pray who can wonder at the preference? - For wrinkles I'm myself no pleader: - Pray what are you, my gentle reader? - A simple answer to the question - Will put an end to this digression: - Why can't you speak now, when you're bid? - You like smooth skins? I thought you did: - And, since you've freely spoke your mind, - We'll back return, and Juno find. - Upon a cloud she sat astride, - (As now-a-days our angels ride) - Where calling Pallas, thus she spoke: - Would it not any soul provoke, - To see those Grecian hang-dogs run, - And leave their bus'ness all undone? - This will be pretty work, indeed; - For Greece to fly, and Troy succeed. - Rot me! but Priam's whoring race - (Sad dogs, without one grain of grace) - Shan't vamp it thus, whilst lovely Helen - Is kept for that damn'd rogue to dwell in; - That whoring whelp, who trims her so - She never thinks of Menelau: - But I shall stir my stumps, and make - The Greeks once more their broomsticks shake, - Then fly, my crony, in great haste, - Lest opportunity be past. - The cause, my girl, is partly thine; - He scorn'd thy ware as well as mine: - And, just as if he'd never seen us, - Bestow'd the prize on Madam Venus, - A blacksmith's wife, or kettle-mender, - And one whose reputation's slender; - Though her concerns I scorn to peep in, - Yet Mars has had her long in keeping. - - Pallas obeys, and down the slope - Slides, like a sailor on a rope. - Upon the barren shore she found - Ulysses lost in thoughts profound: - His head with care so very full, - He look'd as solemn as an owl; - Was sorely grip'd, nor at this pinch - Would launch his boats a single inch. - - And is it thus, she says, my king, - The Greeks their hogs to market bring? - See how they skip on board each hoy, - Ready to break their necks for joy! - Shall Priam's lecherous son, that thrives - By kissing honest tradesmen's wives, - Be left that heaven of bliss to dwell in, - The matchless arms of beauteous Helen? - O, no; the very thought, by Gad, - Makes Wisdom's goddess almost mad! - Though, by thy help, I think 'tis hard. - But yet I singe the rascal's beard. - Then fly, Ulysses, stop 'em all; - The captains must their troops recall. - Thou hast the gift o' th' gab, I know; - Be quick and use it, prithee do: - From Pallas thou shalt have assistance, - Should any scoundrel make resistance. - - Ulysses ken'd her voice so shrill, - And mov'd to execute her will; - Then pull'd his breeches up in haste, - Which being far too wide i' th' waist, - Had left his buttocks almost bare-- - He guess'd what made the goddess stare; - Next try'd his coat of buff to doff, - But could not quickly get it off, - So fast upon his arms it stuck, - Till Pallas kindly lent a pluck. - Off then it came, when, like a man, - He took him to his heels and ran. - The first that in his race he met - Was Agamemnon in a pet, - Striving, for breakfast, with his truncheon - To bruise a mouldy brown-bread luncheon. - - Ulysses tells him, with a laugh, - I've better bus'ness for that staff, - And must request you'll lend it me - To keep up my authority. - Which having got, he look'd as big - As J-n-n's coronation wig; - Then flew, like wild-fire, through the ranks? - 'Twas wond'rous how he ply'd his shanks. - Each captain by his name he calls; - I'm here, each noble captain bawls. - Then thus: O knights of courage stout, - Pray, what the devil makes this rout? - You that exalted are for samples, - Should set your soldiers good examples: - Instead of that, I pray, why strove ye - To run as if the devil drove ye? - You knew full well, or I belie ye, - Our general only spoke to try ye: - All that he meant by't was to know, - Whether we'd rather stay or go? - And is more vext to find us willing - To run, than if he'd lost a shilling; - Because at council-board, this day, - Quite different things you heard him say. - But if he met a common man, - That dar'd to contradict his plan; - Or, if the scoundrel durst but grumble; - Nay, if he did but seem to mumble; - He, with his truncheon of command, - First knock'd him down, then bid him stand - By this good management they stopp'd; - But not till eight or ten were dropp'd. - From launching boats, with one accord, - They trudg'd away to th' council-board. - The hubbub then began to cease: - The noise was hush'd, and all was peace. - Only one noisy ill-tongu'd whelp, - Thersites call'd, was heard to yelp: - The rogue had neither shame nor manners; - His hide was only fit for tanners: - With downright malice to defame - Good honest cocks, was all his aim: - All sorts of folks hard names he'd call, - But aldermen the worst of all. - Grotesque his figure was and vile, - Much in the Hudibrastic style: - One shoulder 'gainst his head did rest, - The other dropp'd below his breast; - His lank lean limbs in growth were stinted, - And nine times worse than Wilkes he squinted: - His pate was neither round nor flat, - But shap'd like Mother Shipton's hat. - You'd think, when this baboon was speaking, - You heard some damn'd blind fiddler squeaking. - Now this sad dog by dirty joking - Was every day the chief provoking: - The Greeks despis'd the rogue, and yet - To hear his vile harangues they'd sit - Silent as though he'd been a Pitt. - His screech-owl's voice he rais'd with might - And vented thus his froth and spite: - - Thersites from the matter wide is, - Or something vexes great Atrides; - But what the murrain it can be, - The Lord above can only see! - No man alive can be censorious, - His reign has been so very glorious: - Then what has lodg'd the heavy bullet - Of discontent within his gullet, - That makes him look as foul as thunder, - To me's a secret and a wonder: - He had the best, the Grecians know, - Of gold, and handsome wenches too. - Best did I say? Bar Helen's bum, - He had the best in Christendom, - And yet's not pleas'd: but tell us what - Thy mighty kingship would be at? - Say but, shall Greece and I go speed - To Troy, and bring thee in thy need - The race of royal sons of whores, - By ransom to increase thy stores? - When we return, prepare to seize - Whate'er the royal eye shall please: - This thou mayst do sans dread and fear; - 'Tis mighty safe to plunder here. - When the fit moves thee for that same, - Take any captain's favourite dame; - Our master wills, and 'tis but fit - Such scrubs as we should all submit. - Ye women Greeks, a sneaking race, - Take my advice to quit this place; - And leave this mighty man of pleasure - To kiss his doxies at his leisure. - When Hector comes, we'll then be mist - When Hector comes, he'll be bepist. - The man that makes us slaves submit, - When Hector comes, will be be--t; - He'll rue the dire unlucky day - He forc'd Achilles' girl away: - That buxom wench we all agreed - To give the bully for his need. - Achilles, though in discontent, - Don't think it proper to resent: - But if the bully's patience ceases, - He'll kick thee into half-crown pieces. - - Sudden Ulysses with a bound - Rais'd his backside from off the ground, - Ready to burst his very gall - To hear this scurvy rogue so maul - The constable of Greece--an elf, - Famous for hard-mouth'd words himself; - His eyes look'd fierce, like ferrets red; - Hunchback he scans; and thus he said: - - Moon-calf, give o'er this noisy babbling, - And don't stand prating thus and squabbling. - If thy foul tongue again dispute - The royal sway, I'll cut it out; - Thou art, and hast been from thy birth, - As great a rogue as lives on earth. - What plea canst thou have names to call, - Who art the vilest dog of all? - Think'st thou a single Greek will stir - An inch for such a snarling cur? - How dar'st thou use Atrides' name, - And of a constable make game? - For safe return great Jove we trust: - 'Tis ours to fight, and fight we must - If to our noble chief a few - Make presents, pray, what's that to you? - What mighty gifts have you bestow'd, - Except your venom? scurvy toad! - If the bold bucks their plunder gave, - Thou canst not think' among the brave - We reckon such a lousy knave. - May I be doom'd to keep a tin-shop, - Or smite my soul into a gin-shop, - There to be drawn by pint or gill, - For drunken whores to take their fill; - Or may I find my dear son Telley - With back and bones all beat to jelly; - Or in his stead behold another, - Got by some rascal on his mother; - If I don't punish the next fault, - By stripping off thy scarlet coat, - That shabby, ragged, thread-bare lac'd coat - Then with a horsewhip dust thy waistcoat; - I'll lay on so that all the navy - Shall hear thy curship roar peccavi. - - This said, his broomshaft with a thwack - He drove against his huckle back. - It fell with such a dev'lish thump, - It almost rais'd another hump. - The poor faint-hearted culprit cries, - And tears ran down his blood-shot eyes: - With clout he wip'd his ugly face, - And sneak'd in silence to his place. - Then might you hear the mob declare - Their thoughts on courage, and on fear. - Up to the stars they cry'd Ulysses, - A braver fellow never pisses; - Of insolence he stops the tide, - Nor gives it time to spread too wide. - We want but half a score such samples, - To make all prating knaves examples: - 'Twould teach the mob much better things, - Than dare to chatter about kings. - Whilst thus they sing Ulysses' praises, - The constable his body raises. - The gen'ral's truncheon of command - He flourish'd in his dexter hand. - Pallas in herald's coat stood by, - And with great noise did silence cry, - That all the rabble far and near - This crafty Grecian's speech might hear. - With staring looks and open jaws - They catch each syllab as it flows. - First, with his hand he scratch'd his head, - To try if wit's alive or dead: - But, when he found his wit was strong, - And ready to assist his tongue, - To clear his throat he hem'd aloud, - And thus humbugg'd the list'ning crowd: - - Unlucky chief, to be so us'd, - Deserted first, and then abus'd! - At Argos, when we came to muster, - And were all gather'd in a cluster, - The general voice was heard to say, - The de'il fetch him that runs away! - Then took a bible oath that night, - They never would return from fight - Till the old Trojan town should tumble; - And yet you see for home they grumble. - I own myself, 'tis very hard - To be from home so long debarr'd: - If but a single fortnight we - Are kept confin'd upon the sea - From our good wives and bantlings dear, - How do we rave, and curse, and swear! - Then, after nine years' absence, sure - These folks may look a little sour. - They're not to blame for being sad; - But thus bamboozled, makes one mad: - Though wizard Calchas plainly said, - If we the space of nine years staid, - The tenth we surely should destroy - This paltry mud-wall'd borough Troy. - Have patience then, and let's endure - To box it out a few weeks more. - Remember how a mighty dragon - A plane-tree mounted from a waggon; - He found a bird's nest at the top, - And quickly ate eight young ones up; - To make the ninth there wants another; - On which the serpent snapp'd the mother: - Though, after he had made this rout, - He ne'er had time to shit 'em out; - For twenty minutes were not gone - Before he chang'd to solid stone, - Where, on the summit of a hill, - At Aulis, you may see him still. - When Calchas saw this wondrous thing, - Like Endor's witch, he drew a ring; - And, standing by himself i' th' middle, - Began this wonder to unriddle: - - My friends, if you'll but lend an ear, - I'll quickly ease you of your fear: - Give you but credit to my speeches, - And then you'll all keep cleaner breeches. - This prodigy from Jove was sent ye, - To show that something good he meant ye: - As many birds, so many years - Should we be kept in hopes and fears; - But 'ware the tenth, for then shall Ilion - Tumble, though guarded by a million. - All this may happen, if you stay, - But cannot, if you run away: - For, be the captains e'er so cunning, - No towns were ever ta'en by running. - Can you remember Helen's rape, - And let those Trojan whelps escape? - Let that eternal rascal go - That made poor Helen cry O! O? - - Up started then old chitter chatter, - And lent his hand to clench the matter: - You are fine fellows, smite my eyes, - If blust'ring words could get a prize: - At first you all could say great things, - And swear you'd pull down popes and kings; - In a great splutter take, like Teague, - The solemn covenant and league; - For Ilion's walls resolve to steer, - And store of bread and cheese prepare. - Now all, I find, was but a joke; - Your bouncing's vanish'd into smoke. - But precious time by talk is spent; - To pull down Troy is our intent; - And we will do't without delay, - If you, Atrides, lead the way. - Whoever here are not content, - Pray let 'em all be homeward sent. - Their help we value not three farthings: - Cowards make excellent churchwardens; - Then let them to their parish go, - And serve their town in noise and show. - No weapon should they touch but needles, - Or staves for constables and beadles: - Such posts as these will suit men right, - That eat much keener than they fight; - Therefore, whoever dare not stay, - I'd have directly sneak away. - When we the Trojan hides shall curry - Without their help, they'll be so sorry - That they will hang themselves, I hope-- - And, by my soul, I'll find 'em rope. - Then how the rogues will wish they'd fought! - But wishes will avail 'em nought. - Did not great Jove, when we set out, - Make a most damn'd confounded rout? - Did he not roll the ball, and roll - Till he half crack'd his mustard bowl[1]; - And kept the noise upon our right, - To hearten us to go and fight, - Till every wench that Troy did dwell in - Should cry O! O! as much as Helen? - Show me the man that dare but think - To make the poorest Grecian shrink; - If any rascal draws one scrub in, - I'll give the dog a handsome drubbing. - And thou, my bully, be not nice, - But take for once a fool's advice; - Let's not like city rabble fight, - Who roar all day, and drink all night; - Millions of such can ne'er oppose - A little band of men well chose; - - [1] They made thunder formerly in the play-houses by rolling a ball in -an empty mustard bowl. - - For discipline, when manag'd right, - Will make a trainband captain fight. - Let me advise, that ev'ry shire - To their own rendezvous retire; - Nor let them mix, but each be sent - To his own ragged regiment. - Let their chief constable command, - If you can find a chief will stand: - The leaders then will quickly ken - Who fight like women, who like men; - Who fight as if inspir'd by Mars, - Or who, like Dutchmen, hang an arse; - Can punish every sneaking knave, - And with good punch reward the brave: - Then shall we understand, no doubt, - Why Troy so long has held it out; - And if they've done us all these evils, - By help of men, or gods, or devils. - - Atrides gave him this for answer: - I now can plainly see, old grandsire, - That noisy chatt'ring ribs of thine - Has got more brains by half than mine: - If Jove, to help us in our streights, - Would lend us half a score such pates, - Split me, we should have brains enough - To strip these Trojans into buff, - And all the men and women leave - As nak'd as Adam first knew Eve. - But Jove, or by design or chance; - Has led us all a pretty dance: - 'Tis he that makes us thus dispute - And squabble till we all fall out. - As for Achilles, I abus'd him, - Kidnap'd his girl, and vilely us'd him; - And, like two English tars, we swore - And scolded for a little whore; - But hope (unless I am beguil'd) - Ere long we shall be reconcil'd; - And then, my boys, you'll see how soon - This whore's nest, Troy, will tumble down. - But now 'tis time for every sinner - To look out sharp to find a dinner; - And then we'll fight, while fighting's good, - And drench our soleless shoes in blood. - Fit then your potlids on your wrists, - And grasp your broomsticks in your fists; - Your mettled horses bring all out, - Both cut and longtail, for this bout. - Like hungry wolves and bears we'll fight, - And kick and cuff from morn to night: - Who dares his coward head to flinch - The thousandth part of half an inch - Or should a moment's time let slip, - By skulking in his crazy ship, - His scurvy hide, for shunning blows, - Shall be devour'd by carrion crows. - Soon as he spoke, both front and rear - Began to look confounded queer. - But late they thought to kiss their wives, - And lead at home good quiet lives; - Instead of that, they find they must - Have t'other bout at cut and thrust: - So forc'd against their wills to stay, - The grumbling whore's-birds sneak'd away. - Now fires by scores were quickly made, - And cows by dozens knock'd o' th' head. - The victuals for theirselves they took, - But wisely fed their gods with smoke: - For men it would be choking stuff, - But for the gods did well enough. - And whilst the garbage broils, they pray - T'escape a broken pate that day. - But to fill all their bellies full, - The priest had drest a fine young bull; - And then invited ev'ry chief - To come and eat this rare bull beef; - Ask'd Nestor first, because his beard - Was longest by a full half-yard; - Idomen did the next succeed, - And then that varlet Diomed: - Ajax the less, and Ajax great, - With sly Ulysses took their seat; - Lest they should think the cuckold slighted, - He came to dinner uninvited. - Now each man draws his pudding-knife, - And eats as though he ate for life. - But first, Atrides said a grace, - Holding his hat before his face; - Then added, in a canting tone, - A pray'r he'd better left alone. - - O mighty Jupiter! that shrouds - Thy dwelling-house with coal-black clouds - Of thy own weaving, great protector, - Grant I may swinge this sad dog, Hector, - Without the help, if so thy will is, - Of that same bullying scrub Achilles. - But Jove, I verily believe, - Just then was laughing in his sleeve; - Nor would he let the foolish elf - Kill one much better than himself: - But though he kick'd the canting pray'r - A thousand fathom in the air, - Yet did he not refuse the treat, - But snuff'd the smoke, and lick'd the meat. - And now, to show they scorn all thieving, - They serve Jove first, then take his leaving; - Upon his altar burnt a piece, - And up his nose sent smoke and grease: - The god they were resolv'd to please, - Or smoke him till they made him sneeze: - For he would think them very hollow - To keep him sharper than Apollo; - Therefore, Burn more and more, they cry'd, - Until he owns he's satisfy'd. - When all had stuff'd their bellies full, - And ate the very hoofs o' th' bull, - Old chatt'ring Nestor 'gan to talk, - And thus to Agamemnon spoke: - - Bid the blind fiddlers scrape away, - And all the troops shall march to-day; - And, that no useful man be mist, - Let muster-master bring his list - And call 'em o'er: if then we're right, - Do you lead on, by Jove we'll fight. - At the chief constable's commands - They muster'd all their trusty bands; - Each knew his right and left hand man, - And eke his officer could scan. - As Nestor said, each hang-dog went - To his own ragged regiment. - Minerva too was got among 'em, - Though she of right did not belong 'em; - Her brawny arm a potlid shak'd, - As bright as blacking-balls could make't, - On which there hung an ugly head, - So grim, 'twould strike the train-bands dead: - With this, and other little helps, - She cheers the poor faint-hearted whelps. - - [Illustration: Book II, page 116. - Her brawny arm a potlid shak'd, - As bright as blacking-balls could make't, - On which there hung an ugly head, - So grim, 'twould strike the train-bands dead:] - - For wives they now no longer sob, - But swear to die or do the job. - As when a bonfire, with a noise, - Is kindled by the parish-boys, - It catches first the straw, then rushes. - And seizes on the dry furze-bushes, - Which causes such a dev'lish glaring, - That half the fools i' th' town stand staring: - Just so you spy'd reflected streaks - From greasy doublets of the Greeks; - For noise, you'd swear these sons of Greece - Were nought but flocks of Solan geese, - Who gabble rarely in their flight, - But ten times louder when they 'light: - Thus in a noisy crowd they wander, - Before they reach the fam'd Scamander; - And as they hasten to the shore, - They make the very welkin roar. - Thick as the crowds that walk the Strand, - Upon the river's bank they stand; - Or thick as leaves that yearly fall, - By pecks and bushels in the Mall; - Or swarms of flies, that find a crop - Of sugar in a grocer's shop; - So throng'd the varlets stand, and vow - They'll beat the Trojans black and blue. - About each trusty serjeant goes, - And sets them all in proper rows, - As easily as Rachael Sparrow - Places the apples in her barrow, - Where (though at first no form they keep) - She quickly makes a curious heap. - Above the rest the king appears, - And tops 'em all by th' head and ears: - He look'd, amidst this set of warriors, - Like a great hound amongst the tarriers. - For breadth of chest, as well as back, - He beat the mighty bruiser, Slack; - But in his strut and martial air - He seem'd a first-rate grenadier. - This day Jove order'd he should pass - To view, much bigger than he was: - And as he knew the head o' th' cull - With brains was not a quarter full, - He clapp'd a candle in his skull, - Which shining briskly through his eyes, - Fill'd all the Grecians with surprise; - For Jove, you need not fear, took care, - At proper times, to make folks stare. - As for these various ragged packs - Of rogues, from different wapentakes, - Their Christian names I've many times - Labour'd to jumble into rhymes; - But could not do it for my soul, - So leave them to the muster-roll. - If any critic choose to pop - His head into my printer's shop, - He'll find a copy there, not spurious, - Left for th' inspection of the curious. - - - - - - THE THIRD BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Now all the troops in order plac'd, - Against their minds, each other fac'd; - When nimble Paris, by a fit - Of courage, or of phrensy, bit, - Fierce sallies forth upon the plain; - The cuckold drives him back again: - Yet hearten'd afterwards by Hector, - Who read him a confounded lecture, - This dancing, cuckold-making knight - Challeng'd the cuckold out to fight; - Which Menelaus answer'd soon, - And in the scuffle knock'd him down. - Fast by the crown the Spartan held him, - And swore most bloodily he'd geld him: - But Venus, queen of love and beauty, - Who thinks all whoring tricks a duty, - In a great hurry came and caught him - Fast by the luggs, and fairly brought him - To his own room; then from the closet - She fetch'd a smoking-hot sack posset. - Soon as she found it warm'd his belly, - She stepp'd to th' door, and call'd up Nelly; - Who scolded hard at first, but soon - Pull'd off her clothes, and laid her down - Upon the bed beside her swain, - Who trimm'd her buff with might and main. - How oft, at exercise so vi'lent, - They cry'd Encore, our author's silent. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - BOOK III. - - - - Thus muster'd by their leaders' care, - Both sides for fisty-cuffs prepare. - The Trojans toss their caps and shout, - And noise proclaims 'em bloody stout; - Like cranes that fly in winter time - (As poets tell us) to a clime - Where pigmies dwell, with whom they fight - To th' ears in blood from morn to night. - But the bold Grecians on their toes - Steal softly to surprise their foes, - Taking huge steps along the green - To get a blow before they're seen, - Knowing, a sorry rogue may crack - A brave man's crown behind his back. - With nimble feet, in sweat well soak'd, - They trudge it, though with dust half chok'd. - Thus, when a mist on mountain head - As thick as mustard round is spread, - The puzzled shepherd cannot keep - The goats from mingling with the sheep: - So of the Greeks, not one, I trow, - Ask him but hastily, could know - Whether his nose was on or no. - Now front to front they ready stand - To fight, and only wait command; - When nimble Paris to the van, - Dress'd a la mode de Francois, ran: - With coney-skins he edg'd his coat, - To show he was a man of note: - A cross-bow o'er his back was slung; - And on his thigh his poniard hung. - A staff he pois'd would fell an ox, - And dar'd the boldest Greek to box. - As thus he struts, and makes a splutter, - Like crow i' th' middle of a gutter, - Him Menelaus soon espies, - And joyful to himself he cries: - - Blast my old shoes, but very soon - I'll have a knock at your rogue's crown! - Then darted, in a bloody rage, - From his old duns cart to engage: - And as he hied along to meet him, - He look'd as if he meant to eat him. - So joys the bailiff, when he spies - A half-pay officer his prize: - Headlong he drives across the way, - Regardless both of cart and dray, - Nor stops till he has seiz'd his prey. - - Soon as the youth the cuckold saw, - As guilt will ever feel an awe, - In spite of all that he could say, - He found his legs would run away: - Then, since the matter turn'd out so, - 'Twas best, he thought, to let 'em go; - So turn'd about, and in a crack - They brought their master safely back; - And, as he puff'd along, we find him - Not daring once to look behind him. - As when a bumpkin sees a snake - Come slyly stealing from the brake, - He starts, and looks confounded cunning, - But quickly saves himself by running: - So this young beau the cuckold shuns, - And 'mongst his trusty Trojans runs. - This the bold Hector could not bear; - He thought he ran away for fear-- - Without considering, now and then - The very best and boldest men - Cannot their members so command - To make 'em at all seasons stand. - Be that as't may; with accent grave - He thus began to scold the knave: - - Paris, says he, you're but a cheat, - And only dare the wenches meet; - But though a man you dare not face, - Yet, when the fight becomes a chase, - You'd beat a thousand in the race. - I wish, ere Nelly thou hadst felt, - Thou'dst broke thy neck, or hadst been gelt: - Better by half than thus to bully, - Then run away from such a cully. - The Greeks all swear thou art besh-t, - And their fat sides with laughing split. - Thou look a soldier! thou be d----d! - The Grecians cannot be so flamm'd. - When thy fine long-boats went to Greece - To steal away this precious piece; - Say, did'st thou, in thy first attack - On Helen's freehold, thus give back? - Joy to thy foes, shame to thy race, - Thy father's grief, and Troy's disgrace, - Recover thy lost credit soon, - And stoutly stand by what you've done; - Or else all Troy, as well as me, - Thy buxom wench will plainly see - Belongs a better man than thee. - Take heed, Troy may awake at last, - And make thee pay for all that's past. - Here Paris blush'd--a sign of grace; - Nor durst he look in Hector's face: - - Then answers, By my soul, you're right - But who like you can preach and fight? - I know you're made of best of steel, - And box as if you could not feel. - You have your gifts, and I have mine: - Where each may in his province shine. - Smite you the men; I smite the wenches, - And seldom fail to storm their trenches. - Don't you despise the lover's charms: - They're Venus' gift, her powerful arms. - A good strong back, and proper measure - Of love, to give the fair ones pleasure, - Are blessings, which the gods bestow - Only to favourites below. - Yet, if it please thee, I will stand - This cuckold's combat hand to hand: - His mutton-fist bold Paris scorns, - He only fears his branching horns; - Should he receive from these a wound, - Our quack can never make him sound. - But go, explain the matter fully, - And I will box this Spartan bully. - My pretty Nelly shall be set - For him that doth the conquest get: - Her swelling breasts and matchless eyes - Shall be the lucky conqu'ror's prize: - Then Troy and Greece, in any weather, - May smoke a sober pipe together. - This challenge pleas'd, and Hector quick - Stopp'd all the Trojans with his stick; - Next to the foe, with Spanish pace, - Advanc'd, to let them know the case. - - The Greeks, like coward sons of whores, - Threw bricks and cobble-stones in show'rs. - - Atrides soon the tumult spies: - Give o'er, ye silly dogs! he cries; - 'Tis Hector comes, if I am right, - To talk a little, not to fight: - I know him by his breadth of chest, - I know his skull-cap's always drest - With goose quills of the very best: - Then be not in such woeful splutter, - But hear what Hector has to utter. - At this rebuke they threw no more: - The tumult ceas'd; the fray was o'er: - His eyes the bully Trojan roll'd, - And briefly thus his story told: - - Hear, all ye warriors, fam'd for toils, - In civil feuds and drunken broils: - Paris demands you now forbear - To kick and cuff, and curse and swear; - But on the ground your cudgels throw, - And stick your broomstaves on a row: - Let Troy and Greece but sit 'em down, - Paris will fight this Spartan loon; - The charming Helen shall be set, - For him that shall the conquest get; - Her snowy breasts and matchless eyes - Shall be the lucky conqu'ror's prize: - Then Troy and Greece, in any weather, - May smoke a sober pipe together. - - He spoke; and for six minutes good, - With mouths half-cock'd, both armies stood: - - When Menelaus thus began: - Bold Hector offers like a man, - And I the challenge will accept; - As freely as I ever slept. - Hector, perhaps, may think I won't, - But singe my whiskers if I don't! - I know, my lads, you fight for me, - And in my quarrel cross'd the sea. - I thank you, friends, for what you've done; - But now the battle's all my own: - Who falls, it matters not a fig, - If one survives to dance a jig - With that bewitching female Helen, - And stump it tightly when he's well in. - So, Trojans, if you mean no flams, - Go buy directly two grass-lambs; - One for the Earth, as black as crow, - One for the Sun, as white as snow: - For surly Jove, you need not fear, - We'll get one, be they cheap or dear; - For well we know he'll make us feel, - If e'er we cheat him of a meal. - But let King Priam on the place - Appear; we rev'rence his old face. - His sons are hect'ring roaring fellows, - And fifty thousand lies may tell us; - Old age is not so quick in motion, - But sees with care, and moves with caution. - Experience makes old folks discerning; - At blunders past they oft take warning. - - Both parties hear, and hope, at last - Their broils and broken pates are past; - Nor staid they to be bidden twice, - But stripp'd their jackets in a trice: - Their cudgels, all the circle round - As quick as thought threw on the ground. - Two beadles Hector sent to town, - In haste to fetch his daddy down; - And bid 'em tell old limberhams, - Not to forget to bring two lambs. - The running footman of the fleet - (Talthybius call'd, with nimble feet) - With all his speed his stumps did stir - To fetch a lamb for Jupiter. - I' th' int'rim, fond of mischief-telling, - The rainbow goddess flies to Helen: - (Most modern farts, I ever knew, - When set on fire, burn only blue, - Or simple red; but when behind - This nimble goddess lets out wind, - It leaves a track along the skies - Compos'd of fifty different dyes.) - She seem'd like old Antenor's daughter, - That Helen might not know she sought her. - The housewife at her task she found, - With all her wenches seated round: - For, as she work'd in Priam's hall, - She chose to have them within call: - Where, like a brazen, saucy jade, - She wrought her tale in light and shade: - How, for her sake, the Greeks employ - Their utmost force to pull down Troy; - And wove the story in her loom, - Of horns, her former husband's doom: - Adding withal, to keep her going, - What for nine years they had been doing: - The necessary names wrote under, - Lest lookers-on should make a blunder; - Lest they should make a wrong conjecture: - This is brisk Paris--that is Hector; - This is Ulysses--that the beast - Thersites--so of all the rest. - Helen, says Iris, pray come out - And see what work they're all about. - Their clubs thrown down; their staves they prick - Fast in the ground, and there they stick. - They fight no more; for this good day - Paris and Menelaus say - They'll have one bout at cudgel play. - These happy rogues appear in view - To box their very best for you; - And which soever of 'em win, - With kissing he will soon begin. - This put the light-heel'd dame in mind - Of people she had left behind - In her own country: not these two - (She'd try'd the best that they could do); - But she had left behind some dozens - Of uncles, aunts, and loving cousins. - She gulp'd, and swallow'd down her spittle, - But yet was seen to weep a little; - Then left her work, and on her wait - Two wenches to the Scean gate, - Where some old square-toes, grave and try'd, - Were chatting close to Priam's side: - I think they were in number seven; - It matters not, or odd or even. - The name of each I would rehearse, - But it would edge your teeth in verse. - Like grasshoppers they sat i' th' sun, - Telling strange tales of ancient fun; - And, in a feeble hollow tone, - Repeated what great feats they'd done; - How they had thrum'd the maids of Troy, - When Adam was a little boy: - At Helen's shapes they shook their wings; - What could they more? they had no stings. - - No wonder, 'faith, they cry, that Greece - Should fight for such a tempting piece; - The man that Helen's ringlets touzes, - Can never grudge a thousand bruises; - But since 'tis o'er with us long since, - 'Tis best to send the brimstone hence: - If she stays here, Troy tumbles down; - But pack her off, we save the town. - - Whilst thus the gipsy's praise they squeak, - The Trojan king began to speak: - - Come hither, girl, I take a pride - To have thee chatter by my side. - Behold your friends, my dearest honey, - And take a view of your old crony. - 'Tis not your fault: you're not the cause - Of half our bruises, kicks, and blows. - The gods, they say, are in a pet; - And when they're once on mischief set - The devil cannot keep 'em down, - Till they've demolish'd some old town; - And for nine years, I plainly see, - They have been grumbling hard at me. - But tell us, who's that swinging fellow - That struts so fierce? he's drest in yellow, - And cocks his hat with such a pinch, - He looks a soldier ev'ry inch. - - Helen replies, Although, good Priam, - No woman's better kiss'd than I am, - Yet I could wish I had been hang'd, - Or at a whipping-post well bang'd, - Ere I away with Paris ran, - And cuckolded an honest man: - My little girl most bitterly, - They tell me, for her mam doth cry: - I'm full of grief, if that would do; - But matters can't be mended now. - - The gipsy, after this parade, - Thus to the good old Trojan said: - He whom to know my daddy seeks, - Is the great leader of the Greeks: - - His fame is known both near and far, - To scold in peace, and kick in war: - My brother he was call'd, before - Your son and I turn'd rogue and whore: - To call him so I'm now asham'd, - And even blush to hear him nam'd. - - Is that Atrides, quoth the king? - To me he seems the very thing: - I'm told he is, or grave or mellow, - In peace or war, a clever fellow. - Amongst the Phrygians I have been. - But ne'er a tighter fellow seen. - When Otreus sat upon their throne, - And Migdon led their hang-dogs on, - I and my Trojans join'd the roysters; - Where, by the help of cod and oysters, - We laid, with many strokes and thwacks, - The Amazons upon their backs: - Yet those now standing in our sight - Are tighter fellows, by this light. - But tell me, Helen, if you can, - Who's that broad-breasted little man; - His shoulders large and widely spread, - But not so tall as th' last by th' head? - He is no serjeant, I've a notion; - Yet like a serjeant in his motion: - He seems to bustle much about him; - You'd swear they could not do without him. - - Helen replies, My judgment misses, - If he you speak of ben't Ulysses. - Now that I take a better view, - 'Tis he himself, I spy him now: - Let him be standing still, or running, - You'll hardly find his match for cunning; - He knows a thousand slipp'ry tricks, - But shines the most in politics. - Though from a barren isle he came, - The world's too little for his fame: - And, had he not been born a prince, - He'd been prime minister long since. - - Antenor told the king, he knew - What Helen said was very true. - When Atreus' son and he came over, - This coaxing baggage to recover, - Men of great worth they seem'd to be, - I therefore let 'em lodge with me: - I knew them both before that day, - And knew they could their reck'ning pay. - Whene'er we chatted o'er a can - Of flip, with care I mark'd each man. - Atrides standing, look'd the best, - 'Cause he was mostly better drest: - Seated, Ulysses reverence drew; - On breech he gave the clearest view. - Atrides was no man of tongue; - His speech was good, though never long: - But when Ulysses 'gan to speak, - You never heard so queer a Greek; - He'd fix his eyes upon the ground, - As if a speech could there be found; - Look'd foolish, though he knew no tongue - Like his was half so glibly hung: - He could, with oily words, I tell ye, - Make your heart jump within your belly: - His rogueship from the flowers and trees - Would call the very birds and bees. - - Then Priam thus: Amidst the throng - I spy a man exceeding strong; - Shoulders so spread, and such a chest, - He's stole a giant's back and breast: - So strong a carl you'll seldom see; - My lovely girl, who can it be? - Ajax, replies fair Leda's daughter, - Is he you're now inquiring after: - Of him the Grecians well may crack, - For he upon his brawny back - Could lug the city gates, when bid, - As well as ever Samson did. - The next that looks this way to see us, - Is the far-fam'd Idomeneus: - With my good man he once took quarter, - And look'd so trim, my mouth did water. - As for the rest, if I judge rightly, - They're fellows that can box it tightly. - But all this while, old dad, have I - Been looking sharp, if I can spy - A pair of twins, and each my brother - Castor is one, and Pollux t'other. - But hap the colonels fight no more, - Or scorn to quarrel for a whore. - - Poor Helen dreamt not on her bed, - Her brothers were as herrings dead; - That the last doublet they put on - Was made of Bath or Portland stone, - Where, free from broils, they slept secure, - And dreamt of whores and rogues no more. - And now both beadles did with care - The lambs for sacrifice prepare; - But first in order form the ring, - And thus they call the Trojan king: - - Arise, O king! come down with speed. - And lend a hand in time of need - To seal the truce; for there's no troth, - Unless you come and take the oath. - Your son and famous Menelau - For Nell agree to pull a crow: - And he that makes his rival yield, - Or lays him flat upon the field, - May unmolested take his fill, - And tousel Helen when he will; - That we may cease this curs'd fatigue, - And join in everlasting league; - Trojans may plough their lands, and Greece - Return, and kiss their wives in peace. - - Priam, though with a heavy heart, - Gave orders for his apple-cart, - A vehicle contriv'd with care - To serve for cart or one-horse chair; - Then, with Antenor by his side, - Like two grave cits they took a ride - Quite through the Scean gate, among - The Trojan and the Grecian throng: - When Agamemnon 'midst the crew, - And eke the sly Ulysses too, - Both rose, and made a handsome bow. - And now the blue-coat beadles, grac'd - With large red caps all silver-lac'd, - The method of the farce to fix, - Some Greek and Trojan beverage mix; - Then pour a little on the hand - Of each commander, as they stand; - But have our priestly way of thinking, - To save the most for private drinking: - Lastly,--this grand affair to close, - His knife the Grecian gen'ral draws, - And cutting from the beasts some hair, - The beadles gave each chief a share, - To show that all things should be fair. - Then with a thund'ring voice, that made - A dev'lish noise, to Jove they pray'd: - - O Jupiter! who every Friday - Art worshipp'd on a mount call'd Ida: - O Phoebus! and thou mother Earth! - That gives to thieves and lawyers birth: - O demons! and infernal furies! - Whose counsels aid Westminster juries: - Thou discord-making fiend I that trudges - The six months' circuits with the judges; - And thou, the hellish imp, that brings - Brimstone to singe all wicked kings! - Hear what we promise, and depend on't, - We'll keep our words, or mark the end on't. - Should Paris drub this Menelaus; - To pox and poverty betray us, - If we don't leave the brimstone Helen - Safe in her present Trojan dwelling - For Paris' use! Much good may't do him, - And make her true and faithful to him; - Whilst we poor devils will depart, - And trudge it home with all our heart. - But if by Menelaus' blows - Paris should get a bloody nose, - They shall again restore his Nelly, - With what belongs her back and belly; - A forfeit too consent to pay - For stealing of the girl away; - And Paris cannot think it much - To pay a piece for every touch: - If they refuse, again we'll fight, - And force the rogues to do us right. - With that he seiz'd the sheep by th' crown. - And cut their throats or knock'd them down - By death they soon were overtaken, - Though they kick'd hard to save their bacon. - The chiefs then tipp'd, the other round, - And pour'd a little on the ground; - Adding withal a shorter prayer, - Because they'd not much time to spare: - Hear, Jove, and all ye gods on high! - Whose vicars say you hate a lie - (Though amongst them, for lies and swearing, - There's scarce a barrel better herring), - Whoever takes a thing in hand, - And will not to their bargain stand, - May their heart's blood run out much quicker - Than from the jug we pour this liquor; - And may their wives such harlots be, - That a whole parish can't serve three! - Thus both the armies clubb'd a prayer, - Which Jove refus'd, and kick'd in air. - Now, when these popish rites were done, - Old square-toes hasten'd to be gone: - - It will be rather hard, quoth he, - For one so very old as me, - Bruises and broken pates to see: - But Jove knows best, who rules us all, - Which knave shall stand, or which shall fall. - To stay within yond' walls I choose, - And be the last to hear bad news: - Then instantly his chair ascended; - Antenor by his side attended: - But first, and rightly did he judge it, - He stuff'd both lambs within his budget. - - Ulysses then, and Hector stout, - The limits of the fight mark'd out: - They both agreed that chance might try - Who first should let his broomstick fly. - The people pray on bended knees, - And mutter out such words as these: - - O Jupiter! who hast by odds - The greatest head of all the gods, - Let him that did this mischief brew - Return with ribs all black and blue; - Or let him be demolish'd quick, - And sent full gallop to Old Nick! - Such rogues once hang'd, all wars would cease, - And soldiers eat their bread in peace. - - [Illustration: Book III, page 153. - Hector, who was a wary chap - At pitch and chuck, or hustle-cap, - An old Scotch bonnet quickly takes, - In which he three brass farthings shakes.] - - Hector, who was a wary chap - At pitch and chuck, or hustle-cap, - An old Scotch bonnet quickly takes, - In which he three brass farthings shakes: - Then turn'd his head without deceit, - To show them that he scorn'd to cheat; - And cries aloud, Here goes, my boy, - 'Tis heads for Greece, and tails for Troy; - Then turns the cap: Great Troy prevails, - Two farthings out of three were tails, - Paris now arms himself in haste, - And ty'd his jacket round his waist - With a buff belt, and then with 'traps - About his legs some hay-bands wraps; - To guard his heart he closely press'd - A sheet of tin athwart his breast; - His trusty sword across his breech - Was hung, to be within his reach; - A horse's tail, just like a mop, - He stuck upon his scull-cap's top. - Thus arm'd complete, with care and skill, - He seem'd as stout as Bobadil: - And Menelaus, you might see, - Appear'd as stout and fierce as he. - Ready for fight, they both look'd sour, - And eyed each other o'er and o'er. - Paris puts on a warlike phiz, - And from his hand his staff goes whiz, - Which lent the Grecian targe a thump, - And then upon the ground fell plump. - His broomstaff then, with aim as true, - The cuckold at the Trojan threw; - But ere he spent his ammunition, - He sent to Jove a small petition: - - Mayst please my good design to help, - And let me souse this lech'rous whelp; - That men may cease to do amiss, - And not in others' fish-ponds fish! - Thus, like Old Noll, he coin'd a pray'r, - Then sent his broomstick through the air - With such a vengeance did it fall, - Through the tin-plates it bor'd a hole, - And tore his doublet and his shirt; - But to his guts did little hurt; - Because the knave, by bending low, - Escap'd the fury of the blow. - Some think he daub'd his breeks that hit, - But that remains a query yet. - The Greek, who did not often judge ill, - Pursu'd th' advantage with his cudgel, - And laid about at such a rate, - As if he meant to break his pate; - But, as his jobber-noul he rapp'd, - His stick in twenty pieces snapp'd. - Vex'd to the guts, he lifts his eyes, - And mutt'ring to himself, he cries: - - This rascal's jacket I had dusted, - If Jupiter could have been trusted; - But honest men he keeps at distance, - And lends to whores and rogues assistance. - Just when I had secur'd my prize, - My lousy stick in pieces flies. - This said, he gave a hasty snap - At the horse-tail upon his cap, - And lugg'd most stoutly at his crown, - In hopes to pull the varlet down: - The more he lugg'd to end the farce, - The more the Trojan hung an arse: - Still he haul'd on with many a bob, - And certainly had done his job, - Because so firmly was his cap - Ty'd with a tinsel'd leather strap, - That though the knave began to cough, - The de'il a bit would it come off: - But watchful Venus came in season, - Before the Greek had stopp'd his weasand; - Her scissars from her side she whipp'd, - And in a twink the stay-band snipp'd. - The Greek, who thought he well had sped, - And pull'd off both his cap and head, - Was vex'd to find, instead of full cap, - He'd only got an empty skull-cap: - In grievous wrath, away he threw it. - - [Illustration: Book III, page 157. - But watchful Venus came in season, - Before the Greek had stopp'd his weasand; - Her scissars from her side she whipp'd, - And in a twink the stay-band snipp'd.] - - Amongst his men, who flock'd to view it, - Admir'd the glitt'ring band, and swore - They'd never seen the like before. - - He then, with all his might and main, - Let drive at Paris once again; - With a fresh broomstick thought to smoke him, - But Venus whipp'd him up, and took him - In her smock lap, and very soon - Near his own dwelling set him down; - From thence, with gentle touch, she led - The younker home, and warm'd his bed. - To take away perfumes not good, - She burnt perfumes of spicy wood. - - No sooner was he seated well in - His garret, but she look'd for Helen: - Amongst her chamber-maids she found her; - The wenches all were standing round her. - Quickly she chang'd her form, and whipp'd on - The nose and chin of Mother Shipton; - Then on her tip-toes coming near, - She whispers softly in her ear: - - My dearest jewel, Paris wants - To ramble in the usual haunts; - Upon a good flock-bed he lies, - And longs to view your wicked eyes: - The whoring rascal, safe and sound, - Prepares to fire a double round. - - Helen began to make a din - At this old woman's nose and chin, - But as she star'd her through and through, - Her old acquaintance soon she knew - By her fine alabaster bubbies, - Her eyes of jet, and lips of rubies. - The fright made all her teeth to chatter, - And, 'faith, she scarce could hold her water: - But soon a little courage took, - And to the goddess silence broke - (The reader in her speech will find, - That, woman like, she spoke her mind): - - Could I believe that Venus would - For such a rascal turn a bawd? - Don't think that Helen e'er will truckle, - And with a beaten scoundrel buckle. - If to your calling you bewitch her, - For God's sake let a brave man switch her, - Nor think that I can like a scrub - That any lousy rogue can drub. - Now he is worsted in the fight, - I am become another's right: - I know your drift; it sha'n't take place; - To send me homeward with disgrace, - And make my husband quite uncivil: - You a fine goddess! you a devil! - If Paris cannot live without - A tit bit, you yourself may do't; - Be you his loving wench or wife, - I'll go no more, upon my life: - To me it will afford no sport, - I am not in a humour for't; - You're always ready for a bout, - When I'd as lief be hang'd as do't: - But know, that I'll no longer bear - Of every saucy jade the sneer, - Who cry, She's very handsome, sure, - But yet the brim's an errant whore. - - Hey-day! quoth Venus, what's all this? - On nettles sure you've been to piss: - Yon will not that, or t'other do: - Pray, who will first have cause to rue? - If I forsake thee, every grace - Will leave that pretty smirking face; - Trojans won't give a fig to see - What once they view'd with so much glee; - Nor will the wildest rake in town - Value thy ware at half a crown, - - This eas'd poor Helen of her doubts, - And put an end to all disputes; - Rather than risk the loss of beauty, - She'd be content with double duty; - On which the gipsies tripp'd away, - And soon arriv'd where Paris lay. - The maids about like lightning flew, - For they had fifty things to do: - But Nell and Venus mount up stairs; - They were to mind their own affairs. - Soon as they reach'd the garret-door, - The goddess tripp'd it in before; - And, squatting down just by the fire, - Made Helen on a stool sit by her: - All o'er she look'd so very charming, - That Paris found his liver warming; - He seiz'd her, and began to play - The prelude to <i>et caetera</i>; - Hoping a tune o' th' silent flute - Would keep the scolding baggage mute: - Instead of which the vixen fell - Upon the harmless rogue pell mell. - - After you've suffer'd such disgrace, - How dare you look in Helen's face? - What wench, now thou hast lost thine honour, - Will let thee lay a leg upon her? - Perhaps you think I'll suffer you - To toy, but split me if I do; - Not I, by Jove. Are all thy brags, - Of beating Menelaus to rags, - Come off with this? Once more go try - Thy strength--But what a fool am I! - A stripling thou, a giant he; - At single gulp he'd swallow thee. - Then venture into scrapes no more; - But, since thou'rt safe, e'en shut the door. - - Paris replies, Good dame, ha' done; - We can't recall the setting sun: - Though your old cuckold-pated whelp, - By that damn'd brim Minerva's help, - Did win this match, the next that's try'd - I'll lay the odds I trim his hide. - But haste, my girl, let's buckle to't, - And mind the business we're about: - I ne'er before had such desire; - My heart and pluck are both on fire: - Just now I've far more appetite, - Than when with you, that merry night, - In Cranse's isle, to work we buckled, - And dubb'd your bluff-fac'd husband cuckold. - - This speech no sooner had he made, - But up he jump'd upon the bed; - Where Nelly soon resign'd her charms. - And sunk into the varlet's arms: - Around her waist he never caught her, - But it in special temper brought her. - - Whilst thus they up and down engage, - The Greek was in a bloody rage; - He like a pointer rang'd about, - To try to find the younker out, - And peep'd in ev'ry hole and corner, - In hopes to spy this Mr. Horner; - (Nor would the Trojans, not to wrong 'em, - Have screen'd him, had he been among 'em) - But the bawd Venus took good care - He should not find him far or near. - Then Agamemnon from his breech - Lifted himself, and made this speech: - - Ye Dardans and ye Trojans trusty, - Whose swords we keep from being rusty, - You plainly see the higher powers - Determine that the day is ours; - For Menelaus sure has beat him, - And may, for aught we know, have eat him, - As not a man upon the spot, - Can tell us where the rogue is got: - If therefore Helen you'll restore, - We'll take her, be she wife or whore, - With all her clothes and other gear, - Adding a sum for wear and tear: - The wear, a female broker may - Settle in less than half a day; - But for the tear, no mortal elf - Can judge so well as Mene's self. - If Troy will pay a fine so just, - And that they will, I firmly trust, - We'll leave this curs'd unlucky shore, - And swear to trouble you no more. - - With mighty shouts the Grecians each - Vow 'tis a very noble speech; - That every single word was right; - And swore the Trojans should stand by't. - - - - - - THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - With solemn phiz, about the fate - Of Troy the gods deliberate; - And long dispute the matter, whether - To joul their loggerheads together, - Or make all farther scuffles cease, - And let them drink and whore in peace. - At last the gods agree <i>nem. con.</i> - To let the rascals squabble on: - Paris then jogs Lycaon's son - To knock poor Menelaus down; - And whilst the honest quack, Machaon, - A plaster spread the wound to lay on, - A dreadful noise of shouts and drumming - Forewarn'd the Greeks that Troy was coming. - The gen'ral now, the troops to settle, - And show himself a man of mettle, - In a great splutter runs about - To call their trusty leaders out, - Swaggers and bounces, kicks and cuffs, - Some serjeants praises, others huffs; - At last the roysters join in battle, - And clubs, and staves, and potlids rattle. - - [Illustration: Book IV, page 169. - Hebe prepar'd upon the spot - A jug of purl made piping hot, - Of which she gave each god a cup, - Who sup and blow, and blow and sup.] - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK IV. - - - The watchman op'd the gates of heaven, - Just as the clock was striking seven; - When all the gods, with yawning faces, - To council came, and took their places. - Hebe prepar'd upon the spot - A jug of purl made piping hot, - Of which she gave each god a cup, - Who sup and blow, and blow and sup; - And whilst their time they thus employ, - Just slightly ask, What news from Troy? - When thus unlucky Jove, for fun, - To vex his ox-ey'd wife, begun: - - Two scolding brims of royal blood - Assist the Greeks--if not, they should; - But, perch'd above, like daws they sit, - Nor they to help their friends think fit; - But, suff'ring Greece to go to ruin, - Content themselves with mischief brewing; - Whilst grateful Venus in the throng, - To aid her lecher, scours along; - With nimble bum, or nimbler wrist, - She guides his weapon where she list; - Knowing a touch of her soft hand, - If fallen down, will make him stand. - - But, messmates, since we have begun, - 'Tis time to fix what must be done. - The book of Fate then let us scan, - And view what is ordain'd for man; - That we about them may determine, - To kill, or keep alive, the vermin: - Say then, shall smiling peace ensue, - Or dreadful broils, with face of rue? - If now your godships think that Nelly - Should go and warm her husband's belly, - And Paris pay for doing work - Would glad the heart of Jew or Turk; - Why then the borough may stand firm - A thousand years, or any term; - May back recall its old renown, - And once more be a market-town. - - Whilst thus he preach'd, his angry queen - With Pallas whispering was seen; - And as they jabber'd pate to pate, - Against poor Troy express'd their hate - The boxing vixen, though in wrath, - Yet holds her peace, and nothing saith; - Nor would, had Jove preach'd e'er so long, - For heavenly wisdom rul'd her tongue; - She prudent acts; not so Jove's wife, - Whose joy consists in noise and strife. - - Begun: Don't think your dunder-pate - Shall use your queen at such a rate: - On whoring Troy I've made just war; - Have rous'd my Grecians near and far; - My post-chaise rattled many a mile, - My peacocks sweating all the while; - And all to bring destruction on - This perjur'd, lying, whoring[1] town. - But spouse my cares and toils derides; - Because they're rogues, he's on their sides; - To punish rogues in grain refuses, - And thus his loving wife abuses: - Though, if the gods will take my side, - In spite of Jove I'll trim their hide. - - At this same speech you cannot wonder - The thunder-driver look'd like thunder: - He wav'd his locks, and fit to choke - With rage, he to his vixen spoke: - - Why, how now, hussy! whence this hate - To Priam and the Trojan state? - Can mortal scoundrels thee perplex, - And the great brim of brimstones vex, - That thou should'st make such woeful pother, - And Troy's whole race desire to smother; - Then level, out of female spite, - Their spires, with weather-cocks so bright; - And all because that rogue on Ida - Fancy'd your mouth an inch too wide-a? - Pray how can I the varlet blame, - Who fifty times have thought the same?[2] - But for this once I'll give thee string - Enough, to let thy fury swing: - Burn the whole town; blow up the walls; - Destroy their shops and coblers' stalls: - Murder old Priam on the place, - And smother all his bastard race; - With his boil'd beef and cabbage glut - The fury of thy greedy gut. - Peace, then, perhaps I may enjoy - When there shall be no more of Troy: - But should I choose to be uncivil, - And send your scoundrels to the devil, - Don't think, good Mrs. Brim, that you - Shall hold my hand: remember how - I suffer harmless Troy to tumble, - To stop your everlasting grumble. - I tell thee, brim, of all I know - In heav'n above, or earth below, - Bastards of mortal rogues or gods, - I value Troy the most by odds: - No men on earth deserve my favour - Like Trojan boys, for good behaviour; - Because, whene'er they pay their vows, - They kill good store of bulls and cows; - Nor do they ever grudge the least, - To lend their daughters to the priest; - From whence it cannot be deny'd, - But true religion is their guide. - - Juno, like puppet, rolls her eyes, - And, meditating, thus replies: - - Three boroughs have I got in Greece, - Most dearly lov'd in war and peace; - Mycenae, Argos, aye, and Sparta, - Destroy 'em all[3], care I a f---t-a? - With the dry pox or thunder strike 'em; - 'Tis fault enough for me to like 'em. - Must thy poor wife's good friends be drubb'd, - And she herself thus hourly snubb'd, - As if her family, Sir Cull, - Was not as good as yours to th' full? - I know I ought, were you well bred, - To share your power as well as bed; - But there I know, and so do you, - I'm robb'd of more than half my due. - Your dad[4] was but a lead-refiner, - Or else a Derbyshire lead-miner; - Mine was refiner of the small - Assays, for years, at Goldsmiths'-Hall: - Then prithee don't, my dearest life, - Refuse due honour to your wife: - Alternately let's take the sway; - Each bear a bob both night and day; - And then the vulgar gods shall see - We mount by turns, now you, now me. - See trusty Pallas sneaking stands, - And waits your worship's dread commands: - She'll soon, if you unloose her tether, - Set Greece and Troy by th' ears together: - But bid her use her utmost care, - Troy's whoring sons begin the war; - Then, if they get the worst o' th' game, - They dare not say that we're to blame. - - Of heaven and earth the whoring king - Swore that his wife had hit the thing: - Then go, my Pallas, in the nick, - And serve these Phrygian whelps a trick; - Make 'em, like Frenchmen, treaties break: - Away, and do not stay to speak. - - Pleas'd she darts downward in a trice, - And smooth as younkers slide on ice; - Or when the upper regions vomit - A long-tail'd firebrand, call'd a comet, - Which robs old women of their wits, - And frights their daughters into fits; - Gives wond'ring loons the belly-ache, - And makes the valiant soldier quake: - With horrid whiz it falls from high, - And whisks its tail along the sky: - Just so this brimstone did appear, - As she shot downward through the air. - They guess'd, and paus'd, and guess'd again, - What this strange prodigy could mean: - At last agreed, that angry Fate - Was big with something mighty great. - 'Twas war, or peace, or wind, or rain, - Or scarcity next year of grain. - Some cunning heads this reason hit, - That B--e would soon make room for P--tt; - But all the bold north-country rout - Swore that it would much better suit - His M----, to stick to B--te. - - Whilst thus they jar and disagree, - Minerva lit behind a tree; - And lest her phiz should make 'em gape, - Borrow'd an honest mortal shape; - Laodocus, no snivelling dastard, - But great Antenor's nephew's bastard: - She quickly found Lycaon's son, - A rare strong chief for back and bone, - Whose troops from black Esopee came, - A place but little known to fame. - The arms his raggamuffins bore - Were broomsticks daub'd with blood all o'er. - To him she with a harmless look, - Like a mischievous brimstone, spoke: - - Will you, friend Pand'rus, says she, - A little counsel take from me? - You know that every prudent man - Should pick up money when he can; - And now, if you could have the luck - To make a hole in Sparta's pluck, - Paris, as certain as I live, - Would any sum of money give. - Such a bold push must sure be crown'd - With ten, at least, or twenty pound: - Don't gape and stare, for now or never - You gain or lose the cash for ever: - But first, to th' Lycian archer pay - (By most he's call'd the god of day) - A ram; this same unerring spark - Can guide thy arrow to its mark: - 'Tis highly necessary this, - Or two to one your aim you'll miss. - - Like gunpowder, the thick-skull'd elf - Took fire, and up he blew himself: - Then fitting to his bow the string, - He swore, by Jove, he'd do the thing. - His trusty bow was made of horn - An old ram goat for years had worn. - This goat by Pandarus was shot, - And left upon the cliffs to rot: - The curling horns, that spread asunder - Two tailors' yards, became his plunder; - Which he took care to smooth, and so - Produc'd a very handsome bow: - The blacksmith fil'd a curious joint, - And Deard with tinsel tipp'd each point. - This bow of bows, without being seen - By any but his countrymen, - He bent; and, that he might be safe, - Took care to hide his better half - Behind the potlids of his band; - For those he always could command. - Before he aim'd, he squatted low - To fit an arrow to his bow; - One from a hundred out he picks, - To send the cuckold over Styx - (Sharp was the point of this same arrow, - Design'd to reach the Spartan's marrow); - Then to the god of day-light vows - To give a dozen bulls and cows. - Now hard he strains, with wondrous strength, - And draws the arrow all its length: - Swift through the air the weapon hies, - Whilst the string rattles as it flies. - Had then Atrides been forgot, - He certainly had gone to pot: - But Pallas, for his life afraid, - In pudding-time came to his aid, - And turn'd aside the furious dart, - That was intended for his heart, - Into a more ignoble part. - So careful mothers, when they please, - Their children guard from lice and fleas. - The first emotion that he felt, - Was a great thump upon his belt: - For there the arrow, Pallas knew, - Could only pierce a little through. - It did so; and the skin it rais'd: - The blood gush'd out: which so amaz'd - The cuckold, that he was half craz'd: - He felt within himself strange twitches; - 'Twas thought by most he spoil'd his breeches. - As when you seek for stuff to grace - Some fine court lady's neck and face, - All o'er her muddy skin you spread - A load of paint, both white and red, - The diff'ring colours, sure enough, - Must help to set each other off, - Spite of the hue that glares within - The filthy, muddy, greasy skin: - Just so Atrides' blood you'd spy, - As it ran down his dirty thigh; - His knee, and leg, and ancle pass'd, - And reach'd his sweaty foot at last. - At this most dreadful, rueful sight, - Atrides' hair stood bolt upright, - And lifted, all the Grecians said, - His hat six inches from his head. - Nor less the honest cuckold quak'd; - His heart as well as belly ach'd; - Till looking at the place that bled, - He plainly saw the arrow's head - Stopp'd by his greasy belt: he then - Boldly took heart of grace again. - But the great chief, who thought the arrow - Had reach'd his brother's guts or marrow, - With bitter sobbing heav'd his chest, - And thus his heavy grief express'd; - Whilst all the Grecians, far and near, - Did nought but threaten, curse, and swear: - - My dearest bro. for this did I - Desire a truce? Zounds! I could cry: - It proves a fatal truce to thee; - Nay, fatal both to thee and me. - Thou fought'st till all the fray did cease: - Now to be slain, in time of peace, - Is dev'lish hard:--with rueful phiz - He added? By my soul it is! - Those scoundrel Trojans all combine, - In hopes to ruin thee and thine; - They've stole thy goods, and kiss'd thy wife, - And now they want to take thy life: - With perjuries the rogues are cramm'd, - For which they will be double damn'd. - Now we good Grecians, when it meet is - To make with scoundrel neighbours treaties, - As Britons (but the Lord knows how) - With roguish Frenchmen often do, - We're strict and honest to our word; - So should each man that wears a sword. - What pity 'tis that rogues so base - Should thus bamboozle Jove's own race! - But let it be thy comfort, brother, - And with it thy resentment smother, - That Jove in flames such rogues will burnish; - Already he begins to furnish - With red-hot balls his mutton fist, - To singe and pepper whom he list. - Be sure, that when he once begins, - He'll smoke these scoundrels for their sins, - Make Priam's house of scurvy peers - Come tumbling down about their ears. - These Trojans, if they do not mend on't, - Will all be hang'd at least, depend on't: - For thee, my brother, who deserv'd - Much better fate than be so serv'd, - I trust thou wilt not die so sudden, - But still eat many a pound of pudding. - If aught but good should hap to thee, - God knows what must become of me. - When thou art gone, thy men of might - Will run, but rot me if they'll fight. - When once they've lost thy brave example, - They'll let the Trojan rascals trample - Their very guts out ere they'll budge; - They will, as sure as God's my judge. - Shall Helen then with Paris stay, - Whilst thy poor bones consume away; - And some sad dog, thy recent tomb, - Lug out his ware and piss upon? - Adding, that all Atrides got, - Was to come here to lie and rot; - Nor durst his bullying brother stay, - But very stoutly ran away. - Before this scandal on me peep, - May I be buried nine yards deep! - - He spoke; and sighing rubs his eyes, - When Menelaus thus replies: - Thy tears, my hero, prithee keep, - Lest they should make our soldiers weep: - 'Tis but, at worst, a harmless scratch; - I'll put upon't a lady's patch: - Or, if you think 'twill mend you faster, - I'll send for Borton's[5] sticking-plaster. - But if a surgeon's help is meet, - Dispatch a messenger to th' Fleet; - There is a man, who well can do - For scratches, burns, and poxes too. - - The brother king, with gracious look, - Once more resum'd the thread, and spoke - - May all the gods thy life defend, - And all thy wounds and scratches mend! - Talthybius, fly, Machaon bid - Run faster than he ever did; - Let him await us in our tents, - And bring his box of instruments; - My brother's wounded with a dart, - For aught I know, in mortal part - - With such a haste Talthybius run, - He knock'd two common troopers down; - Then search'd through every file and rank, - And found the surgeon in the flank. - - The king, Machaon, wants your help; - You must not march, but run, you whelp; - And, with your box of instruments, - Attend the brothers in their tents: - Make speed, the best leg foremost put; - One brother's wounded in the gut; - And for the other, 'tis not clear - But he has burst his guts for fear. - - The surgeon was a soldier good, - And in his regimentals stood. - Soon as he heard of what had pass'd, - No surgeon ever ran so fast. - Talthybius, who his speed did view, - Swears to this day he thought he flew. - Away he hied, with double speed, - To help the king in time of need - (A double motive surgeons brings, - When they attend the wounds of kings; - It happens oft, as I have heard, - Besides their pay, they get preferr'd). - Away puff'd Chiron on full drive, - In hopes to see the king alive. - Standing he found the man he sought, - And cleaner than at first was thought. - His comrades look'd a little blue, - And so perhaps might I or you. - He pluck'd the arrow with such speed, - Close to the head he broke the reed; - On which he for the buckles felt, - And loos'd at once both head and belt: - When kneeling down upon the ground, - Like Edward's queen he suck'd the wound; - Then to the place, to give it ease, - Apply'd a salve of pitch and grease. - - But, while the surgeon was employ'd, - The Grecians sorely were annoy'd - By Trojan boys that flew about, - Resolv'd just then to box it out; - Roaring they came like drunken sailors, - Or idle combination tailors. - The king durst hardly go or stay; - But yet he scorn'd to run away: - Though peace might make his head appear - A little thick, in war 'twas clear. - Though his own coach was by his side, - Yet, like a man, he scorn'd to ride, - Lest they should think him touch'd with pride, - But ran on foot through all the host, - As nimbly as a penny post: - - And cries, Attend, each mother's son! - This battle must be lost or won. - Remember now your ancient glory, - What broken heads there are in story - Related of your fathers stout; - And you yourselves are talk'd about: - A Trojan fighting one of you, - Has odds against him three to two: - The rascals rotten are as melons, - And full of guilt as Newgate felons. - We'll have 'em all in chains and cuffs, - But till that time let's work their buffs. - This speech was made for men of mettle; - He next the cowards strives to settle: - - O shame to all your former trades, - The ridicule of oyster jades! - Do you intend to stand and see - Your lighters flaming in the sea? - A special time to stare and quake, - When more than all ye have's at stake! - Like stags, who, whilst they stand at bay, - Dare neither fight nor run away; - Perhaps you think it worth the while - For Jove to fight, and save you toil: - But you will find, without a jest, - He safest stands who boxes best. - - This said, like Brentford's mighty king - He march'd, and strutted round the ring. - Th' old Cretan gave him great content, - To see him head his regiment; - And to observe how void of fear - The bold Merion form'd the rear. - The serjeant-majors, in their places, - Advanc'd, with grim determin'd faces. - The king, elated much with joy, - Clasp'd in his arms the fine old boy: - O Idomen! what thanks we owe - To men of such-like mould as you! - Thy worth by far exceeds belief: - When Jove from war shall give relief, - Be thine the foremost cut o' th' beef: - And when our pots of ale we quaff, - Mix'd with small beer the better half, - Thy share, depend, shall never fail - To be a double pot, all ale. - - The Cretan had not learn'd to dance; - Had ne'er from Dover skipp'd to France: - For though 'tis plain he meant no evil, - You'll say his answer was not civil: - - There needs no words to raise my courage - So save your wind to cool your porridge: - I'll venture boldly though to say, - I'll act what you command this day: - Let but the trumpets sound to battle, - I'll make the Trojans' doublets rattle. - - The king was rather pleas'd than vex'd, - So travell'd onward to the next. - Ajax he found among his blues; - Ajax, says he, my boy, what news? - Now this he said, because 'twas hard - To have for all a speech prepar'd: - But yet he gladly feasts his eyes - With his new mode of exercise: - He found 'twas Prussian every inch; - Of mighty service at a pinch; - He saw him close his files, then double - (A trick, new learn'd, the foe to bubble); - Next wheel'd to right and left about, - And made 'em face both in and out; - Then turn upon the centre quick, - As easy as a juggler's trick; - Whence soon they form'd into a square; - Then back again just as they were. - By this parade, Atrides knew - That phalanx might be trusted to. - Now, all this while his plotting head - Had conn'd a speech, and thus he said: - - To say I'm pleas'd, O gallant knight! - Is barely doing what is right: - Thy soldiers well may heroes be, - When they such bright examples see. - - Would Jove but to the rest impart - A piece of thy undaunted heart, - Trojans would helter-skelter run, - And their old walls come tumbling down. - - The next he found was ancient Nestor, - Who, spite of age, was still a jester: - For military art renown'd, - As Bland's his knowledge was profound - Besides, when he thought fit, could speak - In any language--best in Greek. - The king espy'd his men in ranks, - And flew to give th' old firelock thanks; - Observ'd how just he plac'd his forces, - His footmen and his line of horses. - The foot[6] were wisely rang'd in front, - That they the first might bear the brunt. - - [Illustration: Book IV, page 198. - The king espied his men in ranks, - And flew to give th' old firelock thanks; - Observ'd how just he plac'd his forces, - His footmen and his line of horses. - The foot were wisely rang'd in front, - That they the first might bear the brunt.] - - The horse along the flanks he drew, - To keep 'em ready to pursue. - The rear made up of mod'rate men, - Half hearts of cock, half hearts of hen. - The very riff-raff rogues they venture - To squeeze together in the centre. - Thus fix'd, they kept a sharp look-out, - And ready stood to buckle to't. - A man with half an eye could see - A rare old Grecian this must be, - Who in so small a space could keep - His knaves from jumbling in a heap; - Then with a phiz as wise as grave - The following advice he gave: - - If you in battle chance to fall, - Don't stay to rise, for that spoils all; - To rise as some men do, I mean, - Burn foremost, then your back is seen; - But jump directly bolt upright, - Ready prepar'd to run or fight. - Advice like this our fathers took, - And drove the world along like smoke. - - Thus spoke the queer old Grecian chief, - And pleas'd the king beyond belief; - Who cry'd, 'Tis cursed hard that age - Should drive such leaders off the stage: - Whilst other bruisers die forgot, - Eternal youth should be thy lot. - - When Nestor shook his hoary locks, - And thus replies: Age, with a pox! - Will come apace: could I, forsooth, - Recall the strength I had in youth, - When Ereuthalion I did thwack, - Be sure I would that strength call back; - But dear experience can't be gotten - Till we're with tricks of youth half rotten: - The young are fittest for the field, - But to the old in council yield. - Though now my fighting bears no price, - Yet I can give you rare advice. - Fight you and scuffle whilst you're young, - My vigour centres in my tongue: - I would do more to show my love, - But can no other weapon move. - With joy great Agamemnon heard - This doughty knight o' th' grizzle beard, - - He left him then, because he had - No time to spare, things look'd but bad: - When, lo! he found Menestheus - In a most lamentable fuss. - His potlid he could not explore, - Because 'twas hid behind the door: - Searching about his tent all round him, - The gen'ral left him where he found him. - - Next spy'd Ulysses at his stand; - Th' old buffs were under his command: - Idle they lay at distance far, - Nor knew a word about the war: - Atrides saw them playing pranks, - And all disorder'd in their ranks; - Which made him in a mighty passion - The poor Ulysses fall slap dash on: - - I thought you, Mr. Slight-of-Hand, - Had known much better than to stand - Picking your fingers, whilst the rest - Are forc'd to box their very best, - And make a marvellous resistance - To keep these Trojan whelps at distance: - In time of peace you're much respected, - And never at our feasts neglected; - You're first i' th' list when I invite, - And therefore should be first in fight. - - The sage Ulysses, with a blush, - Returns for answer, Hush, hush, hush: - If you speak loud, the Trojans hear; - Not that we care, what need we fear? - But I'm persuaded you'll ere long - Wish you had kept that noisy tongue - Betwixt your teeth, nor let it pass - To tell us all you're half an ass; - Why, can't you see we're ready booted, - And I've just got my jacket clouted? - Without your keeping such a coil. - Ten minutes fits us for our broil; - Give you the word, and we'll obey, - At quarter-staff or cudgel play; - When we begin, perhaps I'll do - Such wonders as may frighten you. - - Well said, Ulysses! cries the king - (A little touch'd though with the sting - Of this rum speech); I only fear'd - To catch my warrior off his guard; - But am rejoic'd to find thee steady, - For broils and wenching always ready. - - He said, and pass'd to Diomede, - And caught him fast asleep in bed. - Zoons! quoth the king, I thought Tydides, - The man in whom my greatest pride is, - Might absent been perhaps a-whoring, - But little dreamt to catch him snoring: - Dost thou not hear the Trojans rattle? - Already they've begun the battle. - Not so thy father--none could doubt him, - He long ere this had laid about him; - Had gi'n the Trojans such a drubbing, - As would have say'd a twelvemonth's scrubbing: - 'Tis known he was a lad of wax, - Let <i>bellum</i> be the word, <i>aut pax</i>. - He was, indeed, of stature small, - But then in valour he was tall. - I saw him once, 'twas when he stray'd - To Polynice's house for aid; - Troopers he begg'd, and straight we gave 'em; - But Jove sent word he should not have 'em: - With long-tail'd comets made such rout, - That we e'en let him go without. - But after that, I know it fact, - He fifty blust'ring bullies thwack'd: - Nay, hold, I fib, 'twas forty-nine; - For one he sav'd, a friend of mine, - To witness that the tale was true, - Else 'twould have been believ'd by few. - Though two bold bruisers led them on, - Meon and sturdy Lycophon, - He trimm'd their jackets ev'ry one. - But I must tell you in this case, - And tell you flatly to your face, - Since our affairs so ill you handle, - You're hardly fit to hold his candle. - - With rage and grief Tydides stung, - Scratch'd his rump raw, yet held his tongue; - Provok'd by this abusive knight - To scratch the place that did not bite. - Not so the son of Capaneus; - He soon began to play the deuce: - - Good Mr. Chief, if you would try - To speak the truth, you would not lye; - Like other mortals though we rest, - We'll box it with the very best. - Though we, I say, and I'm no puffer, - By the comparison can't suffer; - Yet I insist it is not fair, - The sons with fathers to compare. - But pray, Sir, venture to be just; - And, when you think, I'm sure you must, - Spite of your wrath, be forc'd to say - We know to fight as well as they: - And give me leave, Sir, to assure ye, - Our arm's as strong, though less our fury. - Against proud Thebes our father fail'd; - With half their force the sons prevail'd: - Our fathers suffer'd in their shoes, - And died like damn'd blaspheming Jews; - But Jupiter himself stood by us, - Because he found the sons more pious. - Therefore, in spite of all your airs, - Our broils have made more noise than theirs. - - To him Tydides: Cease, my 'squire, - To wrangle thus; and curb thy fire. - Thy betters know the anxious chief - Is almost starv'd for want of beef; - No wonder then that he's so crusty, - 'Twould make or you or me ride resty: - But we will fight if he leads on, - And second him, my boy, ding dong. - He spoke, and took a flying jump, - And on the ground his breech came thump; - But up he sprang, and with a rattle, - His 'squire and he rush'd forth to battle; - And, as they hurried to begin, - Their buff-coats made a dreadful din: - As when the scavengers you meet, - Prepar'd with brooms to scour the street, - With gentle pace at first they sweep, - And a slow lazy motion keep. - 'Till wave on wave creates a flood - Of cabbage leaves and kennel mud; - But when the shovel plays its part, - It mounts aloft, and fills the cart: - So the Greek ragged bands move on, - The hindmost drive the front along; - No sound through all the ranks you hear, - Except the general chance to swear: - March and be d--d, the chief would say, - And silent all the troops obey. - Not so the Trojans' empty skulls, - Their noise exceeded Basan's bulls; - So many diff'rent shires, when squabbling - Like Welch and Scotch, must make rare gabbling. - To it they fall: a Heathen sprite - Heartens each army to the fight. - Mars backs the Trojans, Pallas seeks - To help her dear-beloved Greeks; - Discord and Terror rage in fight, - Attended by that spectre Flight. - Discord, the curse of Christian nations, - But most the bane of corporations; - When born, though smaller than a fly, - In half an hour she'll grow so high - Her head will almost touch the sky. - Too often at a lord mayor's feast - She comes, a most unwelcome guest; - Too often drags both great and small - In heat of blood to Wranglers' Hall[7]; - Where half their wealth is from 'em lugg'd, - Before they find themselves humbugg'd: - Affliction brings both sides to think; - So down they friendly sit and drink. - Vex'd they're drawn in to be employers - Of thieves, solicitors, and lawyers, - - Now bloody blows by scores are struck, - Yet not a man was seen to duck: - A noise of shouts and grumbling spreads, - From luckless knaves with broken heads: - With blood of noble captains wounded - Ten million ants and grubs were drowned. - As from a brewer's sink, a torrent - Comes with a most prodigious current, - And roaring with amazing force - Bears down in its resistless course - Stale radishes, bruis'd mint, and fennel, - Nor stops till it has reach'd the kennel; - So these two crowds each other jostle, - And 'twixt 'em make a dreadful bustle. - - The bloody fray is first begun - By chatt'ring Nestor's saucy son; - Echepolus by chance was nigh, - At whom he let his broomstick fly; - Upon the nob it hit him full, - Spoil'd his best hat, and crack'd his skull. - Down on the ground he tumbled souse, - Like tiles from Whitfield's meeting-house; - Or like an ancient country steeple, - That tumbling frights both priest and people; - When Elpenor, a crack-brain'd fellow, - Whose coat was red, and waistcoat yellow, - A staring, gaping, hair-brain'd prig, - Attempts to steal his hat and wig: - But, as he ventur'd forth his hand - To draw the plunder off the sand, - Hugging himself at his rare luck, - Agenor's broomshaft reach'd his pluck: - His potlid left his side unguarded, - And so the puppy got rewarded: - He falls, and sprawls about in blood, - And fills his mouth with dirt and mud. - - Now Greeks and Trojans round him flock; - And lend each other many a knock; - The sharpest weapon foremost put, - And strive to rip each others gut. - Simoisius, a lovely boy - As any you shall find in Troy: - On Ida's side his mother bore - The bantling, near Simois' shore; - And from that river, now so fam'd, - Her darling Simoisius nam'd: - Great Ajax took him for his mark, - And quickly chaunch'd the luckless spark. - For shame, you lubber! thus to catch - A harmless boy not half your match! - But honest Ajax ever thought, - 'Twas all the same, if he but fought: - Let him but go, away he stalks, - And strikes at reeds as well as oaks. - Thus the unlucky younker fell, - But how, he never yet could tell. - Like a tall tree, that Farmer Bates - Cuts down to mend his rotten gates, - With a huge squash its branches all - Get sorely rumpled by the fall; - So this poor boy, in tumbling down, - Lost a good wig, and bruis'd his crown. - - At Ajax then Antiphus throws - His staff; but how, he hardly knows: - In such a hurry are some widgeons, - They kill jack-daws instead of pigeons: - Such a strange blund'ring fellow this is; - He lam'd the fav'rite of Ulysses, - Just as he stooping was to catch - Poor Simmey's potlid and his watch, - Ulysses was confounded mad, - To see his fav'rite fare so bad: - He swore a little, that's the truth, - Look'd mighty big, and froth'd at mouth; - Then sudden from the ranks steps out, - Arm'd with a broomshaft firm and stout: - He makes a feint to fetch a stroke, - But first he turns with cautious look; - Then cries, Have at your whoring gullets; - I wish 'twas twenty ton of bullets. - Away the massy broomstick goes, - And carries dread to all the foes: - It reach'd a huge fat-gutted fellow, - For all the world like Punchinello: - He was old Priam's jolly son, - Too good a mark for sword or gun; - For, as a treble place he fill'd, - 'Twas three to one he must be kill'd. - Down tumbled he, with such a thwack, - He made, with his amazing back, - The earth just like a nutshell crack; - And shook the globe to th' centre so, - Old Pluto sent a sprite to know - The reason why these sons of men - Disturb'd him in his sooty den? - For, nodding on his red-hot throne, - They'd like to've brought him headlong down. - - The Trojans look'd a little black, - And 'gan to show the Greeks their back; - E'en Hector's self, with sullen pace, - Retreats, bum foremost, from his place: - The rest all tumble helter-skelter, - And run just where they could for shelter; - Whilst the victorious Greeks press on, - And pick their pockets when they're down. - - When Phoebus saw them run this pace, - He quick unmask'd his fiery face; - And hollo'ing from the Trojan wall, - As loud as ever he could bawl, - Cries, Halt, ye whelps! and strive to save - The little credit that you have: - Turn back, and make the Grecians feel - They are not made of brass or steel: - Achilles swears he'll fight no more, - For Gen'ral Rogue, or Madam Whore; - Then what the devil makes ye run, - Unless to get well drubb'd for fun? - What scurvy knave could thus amuse ye, - When scarce a single soul pursues ye? - Thus Phoebus, from the Trojan walls, - Their almost fainting hearts recalls: - Pallas hears all, and quickly starts up, - To back the Greeks, and keep their hearts up. - - Diores next: the sun can't shine - Upon a nobler than his line: - A lord he was, or earl, or duke, - But which, I have not time to look; - Yet could not all his titles rare - Defend him from the chance of war: - One Pirus threw a ragged stone, - Which sorely bruis'd his huckle-bone; - Depriv'd of power to make resistance, - He begs of all his peers assistance: - But, amongst all the valiant rout, - The de'il a man durst venture out; - 'Cause they were wanted at a pinch, - No single soul would stir an inch. - But whilst they wrangled which should go. - My lord got pelted by the foe. - Had he been driving all before him, - As surely as his mother bore him, - With eager haste these valiant souls - Had back'd his good success in shoals: - But when they saw he could not stand, - Not one would lend a helping hand: - And ever since this rule is held - 'Mongst lords at court, though not i' th' field. - - Thoas beheld this Thracian chief - Looking as fierce as roast bull-beef: - Thinks to himself, Young gentleman, - A knock I'll fetch you, if I can. - He then a well aim'd broomstick throws, - Which bruis'd his breast, and broke his nose: - With such a rattle was it thrown, - It quickly brought the varlet down. - The Thracian huffs, their leader tumbled, - In a great passion fought and grumbled, - And kept up such a woeful racket, - That Thoas durst not steal his jacket; - And though he cast a-squint his eyes, - He trudg'd-away without his prize. - - Thus fell two knights[8], the one of Thrace, - The other of some other place. - By fate of war, most strangely jumbled, - The conqu'rors with the conquer'd tumbled. - Had you been hung up by a thread, - But fifty yards above their head, - Or plac'd behind a good strong wall - In which there was a little hole, - The art of war you might have seen, - And wiser than before have been. - Thus fought the troops with might and main; - Some fell, some stood to fight again. - - - - [1] <i>Whoring.</i> You see Juno keeps continually harping on that word: we -may judge from thence, she came in for small share of the labours of -these whoring Trojans; but Venus did. There was one Anchises, a twice -five-fingered Trojan, that (as old stories say) used to thrum her -jacket. AEneas was the produce of their leisure hours. - - [2] <i>The same.</i> Here Juno overlooks a very severe rub of Jupiter's, -because he directly gives her leave to satiate her revenge: had it not -been for that, it is thought he would hardly have escaped without a -scratched face at least, or perhaps the loss of an eye. - - [3] <i>Destroy 'em, &c.</i> See the fury of an enraged woman! Rather than -Troy should escape, how easily she gives up three dearly-beloved towns! -But it is to be hoped, there are few such women alive now-a-days. - - [4] Saturn. - - [5] Borton, an honest chymist in Piccadilly. - - [6] I imagine the author has placed the troops as he thinks they should -be, not as they were. The author knows the Grecians had no horses but -what they used to their chariots: but, as he talks like an apothecary, -he gives himself what liberty he pleases. - - [7] W-stm--ster H-ll - - [8] It is supposed they were knights of the Black Ram, or some such -noble order; which is no objection to their being lords likewise. - - - - - THE FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Pallas, who on the Grecian side is, - Supports the courage of Tydides, - And quickly made the varlet sound, - By bathing well an ugly wound - With salt and water, which betwixt - Her legs she carried, ready mixt: - With the same stuff she wash'd one eye - So clear, that he the gods could spy. - - But hark, says she, a word between us - Pray make a thrust at none but Venus; - I'll give you leave her buff to enter, - But don't on any others venture: - Nor shall you that sly gipsey nick, - With any weapon but your--stick. - - Two Trojans now come on with speed, - To box this bully Diomed. - The first is quickly tumbled down, - And t'other would have follow'd soon, - But Venus coming in the nick - Her bastard sav'd, but got a prick - In her soft hand, which made her roar; - She ne'er felt such a prick before. - Apollo runs to help her out, - And lugs AEneas from the rout. - Mars, finding all the Trojans slack, - Claps bully Hector on the back. - AEneas, cur'd, returns to battle, - And makes the Grecian doublets rattle, - Whilst great Sarpedon in this fuss - Kills the foul'd-mouth'd Tlepolemus: - Pallas and Juno come from heav'n, - And find affairs at six and seven: - Diom. they send 'gainst Bully Mars; - He wounds his godship in the arse, - Who made more noise by far with roaring, - Than the whole bench of judges snoring. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK V. - - - - And now this scratching kicking jade, - By poets call'd the martial maid, - Finding the fray would soon begin, - Brought Diomed a dram of gin - From her own case of heavenly liquor, - Which made his spirits flow much quicker, - And swell'd his courage up so high - That all his comrades standing by - Seem'd each no bigger than a rat, - And he a swingeing tabby cat. - That he might see the foe to handle, - She in his beaver stuck a candle; - Which made him cut a dreadful figure, - And look at least twelve inches bigger: - Against his sandy pate this light - Shin'd with a flame so fierce and bright, - That by the people it was said - The dog-star was not half so red. - But the true case is this: the punk - Had made the bullying scoundrel drunk, - Which fill'd the knave so full of ire, - His sandy pate seem'd all on fire: - Thus, with a face as red as scarlet, - Upon the foe she drove the varlet. - Two sons of Dares, hopeful lads, - Both fav'rites of their good old dad's, - An honest soul that lov'd a full can, - And was high-priest to limping Vulcan, - The god of those ill-looking fellows - That ply the forge, and blow the bellows; - A swarthy, sweaty race of men, - Call'd blacksmiths now, as well as then. - In Vulcan's church the good old wight - Smok'd a dry pipe from morn to night: - But as the boys had got no voice - For singing psalms, he gave 'em choice, - Whether they'd go to th' wars a-fighting, - Or stay at home and mind their writing. - The first they chose, and now for fame - Resolv'd at Tyd. to take their aim; - When Phegeus, as their cart drew nigh; - That instant let his broomstick fly; - But by good luck it only tipp'd - The shoulder's point, and off it slipp'd - Without much harm. Tydides now - A swingeing knotty broomshaft threw, - Which gave his stomach such a thump, - As fell'd the lad upon his rump. - Ideus then was glad to run, - And leave, i' th' lurch his mother's son; - Though, had not limping vulcan taken - Some pains to save the stripling's bacon, - His running could not, I assure ye, - Have say'd him from the Grecian's fury - (For Tyd. could run, in time of need, - What jockeys call a hellish speed); - But he so safe the younker put - Within a cloud as black as soot, - The Greek might, ere he found his prize out, - Have star'd a dozen pair of eyes out. - Resolv'd no longer then to blunder, - He seiz'd the cart for lawful plunder; - And, all recov'ry to prevent, - Dispatch'd the booty to his tent. - - The Trojans in a dreadful fright, - Finding that one was vanish'd quite, - Swore that the dog had beat one brother, - And for his breakfast eat the other. - - Meanwhile Minerva, never sick - Of playing Troy some slipp'ry trick - (For by the sequel you will find - Paris was ever in her mind); - Although she was of wisdom goddess, - Yet, what to me most strange and odd is, - To be the wisest would not do, - But she must be the prettiest too: - This claim the sex assert, and still - Wisdom gives way to woman's will. - Her head was now of crotchets full, - How to hum Mars's leaden skull. - Quoth she, and grasp'd his clumsy fist, - Certain to lead him where she list: - - O thou that sett'st the world by th' ears, - And bring'st them into quaking fears, - Let all these hangdogs fight it out, - And Jove decide the end o' th' rout! - Let us march off, for if we stay - He swears he'll drive us both away; - And you well know in what queer fashion - He uses people in his passion: - And 'faith 'twould be a queerish jest, - For us two mongrels to contest - With him, who, at a single kick, - Can send all heaven to Old Nick. - These words took down the cut-throat's mettle, - And made his boiling gizzard settle. - On this they jointly ply'd their shanks, - And quickly reach'd the river's banks; - Where down they sat, to hear the moans - Of batter'd skulls and broken bones. - - Meantime the furious Grecians follow - The Trojans with a whoop and halloo, - Who having lost their bully, Mars, - Got ev'ry man a kick o' th' arse: - Nay, Fame, who all men's business knew, - Says, ev'ry Grecian drubb'd his two. - First, Odius tumbled in the dirt; - He blam'd that rogue Atrides for't: - In his old cart he thought to fly, - But the bluff Greek was got too nigh; - His knotty broomstick reach'd his back, - And lent him such a thund'ring thwack - As made him with a vengeance feel, - And fell'd him headlong o'er the wheel. - - Phestus, old farmer Borus' son, - Saw it was time for him to run, - But thought it the most prudent part - To carry off his horse and cart; - So strove to mount, when in the nick - Idomeneus sent his stick; - With such a rattle did it come, - It brought him squash upon his bum. - - Scamandrius then, a huntsman good - As ever drove through plain or wood, - Next tumbled down: Diana taught - This swain how snipes and hares are caught; - How, in a scarcity of cats, - To clear folks' barns from mice and rats, - By setting traps, and that way rout 'em; - Or with a cross-bow he could shoot 'em; - Yet at this crisis all his art - Doth not avail a single f--t; - The cuckold[1] fetch'd him such a stroke, - As half his ribs and back-bone broke. - Down came Pilgarlick with a bang, - And loud his copper pot-lid rang. - Then Pherocles, a good mechanic, - Seiz'd with a Preston-pan-ish panic, - Ran stoutly; which Merion eyeing, - With his rough broomstick shot him flying. - For building huts, and boats, and lighters, - The de'il a loon among these fighters - Could be compar'd to Pherocles: - He beat a thousand such as these. - The boat he built, each plank and piece, - That carried Paris o'er to Greece; - But little thought that he was doing - A job that ended in his ruin. - The broomshaft bruis'd his hip or thigh, - No matter which to you or I. - - Antenor's by-blow next succeeds, - And by a mighty mopstick bleeds: - Though strange, Antenor's wife, 'tis known, - Nurs'd this young bastard like her own. - 'Twas labour lost, for Meges soon - With an old mopstick brought him down. - Whiz through the air the weapon flew, - And hit his jaws with aim so true - It made him bite his tongue in two. - - Hypenor, who was far too good - To live among so vile a brood, - Was curate to Scamander's flood, - Near which his house and garden stood; - Where, by the help of gentle show'rs, - He rais'd green peas and cauliflow'rs: - Euripilus his shoulder struck, - And lent him a confounded knock; - Which glancing downward bruis'd his hand, - And holy blood dropp'd o'er the land. - The curate's pray'rs, though very good, - Could not prevent his losing blood. - - Thus each man labour'd in his post; - But Diomed still rul'd the roast: - Like Jack with lanthern, ev'ry where - He skipp'd about; now here now there: - If they won't fight, their steps he traces, - And kicks their bums, or scrats their faces: - Thus, when a hasty show'r comes down - Upon a sneaking taylor's crown, - The stream a mighty world annoys, - And swarms of nits and lice destroys; - Washes the lousy varlet clean, - And nits and lice have bred in vain: - Just so this bully Greek, for fun, - Kick'd the poor rogues by dozens down. - - Now Pandarus was stung to th' quick - To see the knave thus bounce and kick; - With all his might his bow he bent, - And a sharp-pointed arrow sent, - Which lent his shoulder such a thump, - As made the busy varlet jump; - One hair-breadth farther had he shot. - The Greek had surely gone to pot: - When Pandarus, brimful of joy, - Roars out, Look here, ye sons of Troy, - And view this mighty Grecian fighter; - I've made the dog some ounces lighter: - Kill him, if you dare venture near him; - But as it is you need not fear him; - For what I've done will surely fell him, - Or Phoebus lies, and that I'll tell him. - The Lycian boasted thus his might: - He boasted, but it prov'd a bite: - For Diom., when he felt it smart, - Popp'd down, and ran behind his cart: - Then call'd his coachman, Hark ye, sirrah, - Come here, and lug me out this arrow. - The coachman twitch'd his thong about - The arrow's head, and whipp'd it out; - And then the bully on his bare - Kneppers knelt down, and roar'd a pray'r: - - O virgin Pallas, wise and bold, - With whom no brim dare kick and scold! - Of thee the men are so afraid, - 'Tis ten to one thou'lt die a maid; - For who the pox would venture near - A nimble-fisted vixen, where, - Instead of kisses, he, perhaps, - Might get a dowsing slap o' th' chaps? - If ere thou help'd my good old dad, - When his affairs were bitter bad, - And often favour'd his escape - From many a broil and drunken scrape; - Pr'ythee bring help, and cure this scratch, - And make thy buck an over-match - For that damn'd scrub, that dares pretend - To wound the blood that you defend. - - No sooner had he ceas'd to bawl, - But Pallas, ready at his call, - With warm salt water, full as good - As Rock's best styptic, stopp'd the blood; - But finding that it made him grin, - She gave him t'other dram of gin: - This swell'd him up to such a pitch, - That now he felt his finger itch - To try his luck at cudgel-play, - Or quarter-staff, or any way. - - Be bold, says Pall., where'er thou go'st, - And of this dram pray make the most; - There's so much virtue in't, that thou - Both gods and mortal scrubs shalt view - (For nothing clears the sight from gum, - Like a good dram of gin or rum). - Shun all their godships if you can, - They'll prove too many for mere man; - But if you meet the whoring goddess, - Ram thy stiff weapon through her boddice; - Take care you come not near her thighs, - For there a dang'rous mouse-trap lies! - Though I am sore afraid you'll miss her, - And 'stead of fighting long to kiss her; - But if you prove so mighty civil, - Myself will send you to the devil. - When she appears, don't gaping stand, - But use the tool you have in hand; - If you grope out for any other, - Don't think that I my rage will smother; - But will, instead of lending help, - Drub you myself, you whoring whelp! - Think not I threaten what I won't - Perform; for split me if I don't! - Then tuck'd her coats up, and bestrode - Her broomstick, and away she rode. - - As on a chop, when hunger calls, - A needy half-pay ensign falls, - If the smug waiter stumbling leaves - Some drops of grease upon his sleeves, - He swears and raves in direful note - For spoiling of his scarlet coat; - The trembling waiters dare not stay, - But nimbly take themselves away, - Afraid of drubbing, kicks, or cuffing, - And leave the dreadful captain huffing: - Just so Tydides fights and blusters, - And Trojans run, and fall in clusters: - Before, one serv'd his turn; but now - His mighty fury kicks down two. - But how he manag'd it, and whether - He kick'd with both his legs together, - I cannot say; but very soon - He kick'd a brace of Trojans down: - The one was called Astynous, - An honest cock, and one of us; - Hypenor was the other's name, - A mighty lover of that same. - These left, he took the other kick, - And sent two others to Old Nick; - Sons of Eurydamas they were, - Who was a fortune-teller rare; - Whilst men consult for stolen horses, - He took good care to steal their purses; - Yet could he not by magic read - This blust'ring rogue, this Diomede, - Should drub his sons: so this clean birch - Was by the devil left i' th' lurch, - Who did not give one hint that he - The lads again should never see. - Thus swimmingly the knave went on, - And kill'd two birds with every stone. - - Xanthus the next he laid a blow on, - And then knock'd down his brother Thoon, - The only sons of aged Phaenops, - Who got much pelf by brown and green hops; - But suffering both to list for rangers, - His shop and goods now go to strangers. - As when a lordly bailiff stands - With dreadful writs in both his hands, - Poets by pairs he first falls on, - And pulls them from their garrets down; - So he two fellows, Priam's sons, - Fell'd with one stroke upon their bums. - - AEneas saw his townsfolk bleed, - Or run away from Diomede: - Which made him sharply look about - To find the brawny Pand'rus out, - To whom the canting Trojan cries, - I'm glad I've found you, smite my eyes! - Those darts of yours, and that long bow, - May do a deal of service now: - That cursed rogue for God's sake maul, - Else he will bruise and lame us all; - Some angry god's perhaps come down - To drub the people of our town, - Because we could not pay our vows, - For want of sheep, and bulls, and cows: - If it be so, we'll then entreat him; - But if he prove a man, let's beat him. - - The Lycian thus: If I can see, - 'Tis Diomede: by Jove, 'tis he! - Or else it is some god of note - That wears that scoundrels greasy coat; - If 'tis the man, some damn'd old bitch, - A Lancashire or Lapland witch, - Preserves the dog, and out of spite - Helps him to bounce, and kick, and fight. - I shot a dart, with aim as true - As in my life I ever drew; - It gave his shoulder such a thump, - I saw the scurvy rascal jump; - But some curst Lapland witch, indeed, - Hath stood his friend in time of need, - And out of spite, I thank her for't, - Has made my arrow's point stop short. - Having a little skill, you know, - At shooting pigeons with my bow, - I thought it best on foot to come, - And leave my cart-tits all at home-- - Not but of carriages I've plenty; - I've got the better half of twenty. - My good old daddy, for his part, - Persuaded me to trust the cart. - Says he, If hap your spits don't gore 'em, - You'll break their legs by driving o'er 'em: - But I, to saving schemes inclin'd, - Th' old fellow's counsel did not mind, - Turn'd up my nose with scorn, and so - Resolv'd to trust my faithless bow, - Because, my friend, I could not say - If corn was cheap with you, and hay; - Should not your pastures prove extensive, - To pay for corn would be expensive; - So, like an ass, at Troy you find me, - My cart and horses left behind me. - With this damn'd bow, a plague confound 'em, - I only scratch, but cannot wound 'em; - Wounding is not a task so easy, - Their buff-coats are so hellish greasy: - I could, as sure as I was born, - Find in my heart to break the horn! - A luckless dog! to touch your shore, - And not provide himself good store - Of broomsticks, half a score or more; - And a great banging potlid too; - I've three at home as good as new. - - AEneas answers: Fie for shame! - Pray don't your bow and arrows blame, - They're Phoebus' gift: with these you may - At distance ducks and wild geese slay; - They have their uses, let me tell ye, - When timber's wanting for the belly: - And now, if we would play the deuce, - The cart and horses are for use. - Then, pr'ythee, on the box do you - Nimbly mount up, and drive jehu: - These little tits of mine, I'm sure, - Can trot eleven miles an hour. - Myself will bid the scoundrel stand, - And box the rascal hand to hand; - Or if you choose that I should flog - The horses, you may box the dog. - - Pand'rus replies: Without more tattle, - Rule you your own celestial cattle; - As for my driving, 'tis a jest, - You sure must know to guide 'em best; - Besides, if hap that you and I - Should scamper, you can make 'em fly; - With me if resty they should grow, - He might demolish us, you know. - Do you be coachman then, and I - The mettle of this whelp will try. - - Thus having stated the account, - The cart then instantly they mount; - With furious haste they drive the cattle, - And, thund'ring, seek the thickest battle. - Tydides' 'squire, with half an eye, - Quickly perceiv'd 'em drawing nigh; - Then cries, Brave Diomede, I see - Two lusty lubbers aim at thee; - One is the son of old Lycaon; - T'other, of him that us'd to lay on - The goddess Venus: what's his name?-- - Anchises.--Right, the very same. - Enough in conscience have you done; - Whilst we've good start, e'en let us run: - Saving your bacon is the way - To save us all another day. - - Tydides star'd, and cry'd, What now? - Pray what's the matter, friend, with you? - When Agamemnon only told you, - We durst not fight, I could not hold you; - You kick'd, and danc'd, and bounc'd, and swore, - And scolded like a butter-whore: - I little thought my bold bell-wether - Had since got shod with running leather: - Or that he in the least could hope - I'd run away like Johnny Cope. - Not I, by Jove! for all their bouncing, - I'll give their rogueships such a trouncing, - They shall be glad, for all their pother, - By leaving one to save the other. - I've either got a second sight, - Or else a quaker's inward light, - Which tells me I shall slap the chaps - Of one of these, or both perhaps. - If it should happen in the jumble, - That both these fighting fellows tumble, - As from my soul I wish they may, - Mind you remember what I say: - My horses to my cart-tail tie; - You'll hear my reason by and by; - Then in the empty carriage get you, - And drive, as if the devil split you, - Down to the boats.--AEneas brags - All Europe cannot match these nags: - Jove gave 'em to the duke of Troy, - Because he stole his little boy; - Childers or Conqueror cannot - Gallop so fast as they can trot; - The swiftest tits of earthly seed, - Compar'd with these, are dung-cart breed. - Anchises, like a cunning elf, - Brought mares to cover for himself; - Four in his stalls are feeding now - On barley-straw, besides these two - That draw AEneas: could we catch 'em, - Not all our Grecian scrubs can match 'em. - - Whilst thus they talk'd they both came on, - And Pandarus the first begun - - Well met, my buff! but, hit or miss, - I'll try again, so take you this: - Where my unlucky bow fell short, - My stick shall have a trial for't. - Then threw his staff; the sudden stroke - Quite through and through the potlid broke; - But, guided by the goddess Luck, - It in his greasy buff belt stuck. - - I've sous'd him now! the Lycian cries. - Not yet, the surly Greek replies: - Your stick has bilk'd your fist, so now - I'll let you feel what mine will do: - If one or both I do not souse, - Minerva's dram's not worth a louse. - He said, and, rising on his toes, - Lent him a dowse across the nose; - Betwixt his eyes the staff drove in, - And bruis'd both nose, and mouth, and chin. - With such a rattle from the cart - He fell, as made the horses start; - Earth groan'd as she receiv'd him tumbling, - And the soul left the body grumbling. - - His staff AEneas durst not send, - But kept it safe to guard his friend; - Turn'd it each way, and whipp'd about, - And kept a dev'lish sharp look-out, - For fear the Greeks should steal away - His greasy jacket as he lay; - And did so rave, and curse, and swear, - The de'il a Grecian durst go near; - When bold Tydides, stooping down, - Took up a large Scotch paving-stone-- - Four modern beaux could hardly lift - This stone, though six might make a shift-- - Flourish'd it round, away it goes - Full at the bullying Trojan's jaws - But though it did not reach so high, - With such a fury 'twas let by, - It wounded both his hip and thigh; - The huckle-bone was sorely smash'd, - And head o'er heels the warrior dash'd; - His swimming eyes perceiv'd a mist, - His swimming thighs were sore bepist. - By death he'd sure been overtaken, - If Venus had not sav'd his bacon; - But, mindful of the many slices - She got on Ida with Anchises, - The many hours of pleasing fun - She spent at getting of this son, - Resolv'd, at any rate or cost, - He should not be so poorly lost. - Behind my veil, where none can see us, - Thinks she, I'll hide this son AEneas; - So whipp'd him up without delay, - And trotted with her prize away. - - Now Sthenelus, the bully's carter, - Remember'd what he heard that Tartar - His master say, so quickly ty'd - His geldings to his carriage side; - Then running to the Trojan tits, - Buckled the reins within the bits, - Nor did he spare his whip or throat - Till he had reach'd his master's boat: - - To thee, Deipylus, he cries, - I give in charge this mighty prize: - Then mounts his cart, and takes the route - To find his master kill-cow out. - The bully, when he found his prey - Some how or other slipp'd away, - Says to himself, This Madam Venus - Has thrown a queerish cloud between us; - And, by my sneezing, sure enough - 'Tis dust of Scotch or Spanish snuff! - Should it be so, though faith it odd is - For mortal man to thump a goddess, - Yet since she does me so provoke, - I'll try if I can't get a stroke. - - This said, he nimbly ran about - To find this Madam Venus out; - Through the thick ranks he boldly ventur'd, - And with his tool the goddess enter'd: - With such a force he drove it in, - It made the light-heel'd gipsy grin: - Straight from the place where he did stick her - There came a bright transparent liquor - (Not such queer stuff as flows in common - When pins are stuck into a woman); - Help! murder! murder! Venus cries out, - Roaring as if she'd roar her eyes out: - The devil take this tearing blade; - Zoons, what a gap the dog has made! - If Jove protects these sons of bitches, - To treat us thus like Lapland witches, - He'll first repent, for I know well, - Give rogues an inch they'll take an ell: - I've try'd 'em oft, and find all yet - Will squeeze as far as they can get. - But what the most my mind doth ruffle, - I've lost my bastard in the scuffle. - But Phoebus whipp'd amongst the crowd, - And wrapt him snug within a cloud. - - Tydides then was heard to say - To Venus, as she ran away: - From broils like these you'd best forbear; - Pray what the pox should you do here? - Go tempt some bawdy judge or warden, - Or mind your brims in Covent Garden: - Let the home-thrust you got to-day - Teach you from broils to keep away. - - Whilst thus the Grecian chief did prate, - Like drunken whores at Billingsgate, - Poor Venus ran through all the crowd, - As if by constables pursu'd; - When quickly Madam Iris miss'd her, - And flew like lightning to assist her. - She found her in a bloody sweat, - Her smock from top to bottom wet: - At first they thought away to fling it, - Or, upon second thoughts, to wring it; - Because the loss of a good smock - Would make a hole in Venus' stock: - But had no time for either way, - For Venus swore she durst not stay; - So with it cleaving round her thighs - Away to bully Mars she flies. - Behind a sutler's tent they found him, - With twenty sutlers' wives around him, - Drinking hot pots with might and main, - Till all their noddles smok'd again, - And made so thick a fog, that she - The god at first could hardly see. - Blubb'ring she tells him she is come - To beg his car to drive her home; - Then shows the place where Diomede - Had push'd it home, and made her bleed. - - Mars, list'ning, star'd and cock'd his eye, - Then answer'd, Madam, zoons, don't cry, - You're welcome to my nags and cart; - I'll fetch them quickly, damn my heart[2] - Iris, who farts ten thousand colours, - Can drive as smooth as Chelsea skullers. - They mount; the nimble horses fly, - And in a twinkling reach the sky; - Where both alight, put up their steeds, - Which Iris with new clover feeds; - When Venus to her mammy ran, - To make complaint about this man: - She rais'd her in her arms, quite sick, - And ask'd her where she got that prick. - - No god, quoth she, hath done this hurt, - It was a thing made up of dirt; - A mortal rogue, call'd Diomede, - Has made the queen of beauty bleed; - 'Gainst Troy they think they've so much odds, - They'll fight both them, and all their gods. - - Dione thus: Have patience, daughter, - Fretting will never mend the matter. - The gods give plague enough to man, - And they return it when they can. - E'en bully Mars himself lay bound - For a whole twelvemonth under ground - Otus and Epialtus catch'd him, - And both together overmatch'd him; - And had not Ereboea spy'd him, - And told it Hermes, who unty'd him, - And slily stole the whelp away, - He'd been a pris'ner to this day; - Nor could the ranting roaring elf, - With all his bullying, help himself. - Amphytrion's saucy bastard, you know, - Made a strong push at madam Juno, - And gave her as much pain, she said, - As when she lost her maidenhead. - Nor could black Pluto, though a devil, - Make bully Hercules be civil: - But he, as ancient stories tell, - Kick'd this great devil out of hell, - Who, finding home was not secure - From kicks and bruises, ran for cure - To heaven, where Peon rubb'd the chief - With nothing but a plantain leaf, - Which cur'd his batter'd ribs so well, - He tripp'd it back quite sound to hell. - This Diomede was urg'd by Pallas, - Who cares not if he comes to th' gallows; - Nor heeds she, be he Jew or Turk - That undertakes her dirty work. - This Diomede shall never see - A chatt'ring bastard on his knee, - To cry, when he has ceas'd to roam, - O, mammy, here's my dad come home - For yet, I say, this Diomede - By some strong-fisted god may bleed; - Then shall his wife, disturb'd in sleep, - Drive all her maids about like sheep, - Shall rave, and roam, and rant, and roar, - My strong-back'd husband is no more! - - This said, she squatted on her bum, - And wash'd the wounded palm in rum; - Then to the sore apply'd anon - The drops of mighty Turlington. - Juno and Madam Pallas were - So pleas'd, they grinn'd from ear to ear; - When Pallas, full of fun and glee, - Began a speech with he-he-he: - - Venus, as haps to many a punk, - Has been in such a woeful funk, - That how this ugly stroke befell her - She hardly knows, so, I must tell her. - As she a country wench did teach - Last night to scratch where't did not itch, - By telling her what fun and joy - The wenches have that live in Troy, - The girl's great clumsy girdle-buckle - Rubb'd all the skin from off her knuckle. - - Jove laugh'd, and with a merry face - Calls out, Come here, you simple lass; - In shoving-matches you may shine, - But don't in bruising-matches join; - All day let Mars and Pallas fight, - You weapons handle best at night. - - Above stairs whilst they chatted so, - Tydides work'd their buffs below. - As Venus was too swift to follow, - He turn'd about to box Apollo, - Hoping, if he could make him stop, - He might by chance AEneas drop; - Three strokes he at Apollo makes, - As oft the god his pot-lid shakes; - But when he struck again, the Sun - With such a noise a speech begun, - The saucy dog was glad to run. - - You whelp! says he, you know, the odds - Betwixt your logger-heads and gods - Is above ninety-nine to one; - Then what the pox are you upon? - We are immortal, can't see death, - Whilst you, like vermin, creep on earth, - Till, having made a stinking rout, - We clap our foot, and tread you out. - - Thus spake the god, with fi'ry face; - But Tyd. had wisely left the place. - He then the Trojan quickly bore, - Where two old women rubb'd him o'er - With pilgrim's salve, to cure the sprain, - Which set him on his legs again, - Strengthen'd each part, and heal'd the wound, - And in ten minutes made him sound. - - Mean time Apollo carv'd a face - Of clouds, to take AEneas' place; - The body, head, and arms, and legs, - And jerkin, were as like as eggs. - This phantom in the battle stood, - And fought as if 'twere flesh and blood; - But yet the de'il a soul could wound it, - Though bloody blows were struck around it. - - In the mean time, from Troy's high walls - To blust'ring Mars Apollo calls: - Thou son of Jupiter, and his chief - When he's a mind to do folks mischief, - Rise up! and in thy fury seek - To kill yond' harum scarum Greek. - The whelp at Venus push'd, and hit her - With a tool large enough to split her; - But she, in dangers ever calm, - Receiv'd it in her sweaty palm, - Stopp'd his long staff in mid career, - And made it spend its venom there. - When his design on Venus mist, - At me the rascal clench'd his fist, - Nor do I make the least dispute, - He'll box thy father Jove to-boot. - - Away the battle-monger jogs, - Resolv'd to pelt these saucy dogs; - But ere the god began to bluster, - He thought it best all hands to muster; - Those scatter'd rogues that ran away - He soon brought back, and made 'em stay: - Then slipping on bold Ac'ma's coat, - He thus began to tune his throat: - - O Trojans, valiant sons of Priam! - May I be shot to death if I am. - Not quite asham'd to see all hands - Running away like stout train-bands! - Our rogues don't make the least resistance, - Yet we don't stir to give assistance; - My patience is quite gone to see us: - Consider but how bold AEneas, - Though stout as Hector ev'ry bit, - Is sore bep--t, if not bes--t! - - Thus, like an Indian priest, to th' top - O' th' house he blew their courage up. - Sarpedon felt the first great puff, - And thus began to bounce and snuff: - - Hector, says he, I've heard you crack - You would these Grecians' jackets thwack, - Without the help of any others - Except your bastard-getting brothers; - But now I see, upon a pinch, - The stoutest of you all can flinch; - Can gaping stand, or run away, - And leave to Hessian troops the fray: - It matters not a pinch of snuff - To me, my farm lies far enough - From these damn'd plund'ring rogues in buff. - I've plenty there of hay and corn, - And a fine child as e'er was born; - Besides, as notable a wife - As any man can for his life - Wish to be plagu'd with: yet I cheer - My merry men to fight your war, - And, like a busy jackanapes, - Bustle to help you out of scrapes; - Though I have little cause to fret, - From me a sous they cannot get. - But Hector idle stands, nor cares - How it with other people fares. - The bold at thy command, old boy, - Will box their very best for Troy: - Pr'ythee look sharp, and tell us how - To bring ourselves well off just now; - Advance you bucks, should Greece attack you, - Depend we'll follow close and back you. - - [Illustration: Book V, page 269-70. - The youth, to show how well he rides, - Canters along the post-chaise' sides, - Through clouds of dust so thick, that he - His palfrey's ears can hardly see; - And ere he rides a mile, none knows - The colour of his face or cloths.] - - Hector made faces at this dose; - The Lycian rubb'd him up too close; - Yet coolly took it in good part, - And nimbly leap'd from off his cart; - In either hand a staff did shake, - That made the boldest Grecian quake; - Then turn'd his tatter'd rogues from flight, - And led them on again to fight: - They turn, look fierce, and scorn to flinch; - Nor will the Grecians budge an inch. - As in a barn the chaff doth rise, - And fly about the thrasher's eyes, - His well-worn doublet covers quite, - And changes greasy brown to white; - Or as a cockney who attends - His girl to see her country friends-- - The youth, to show how well he rides, - Canters along the post-chaise' sides, - Through clouds of dust so thick, that he - His palfrey's ears can hardly see; - And ere he rides a mile, none knows - The colour of his face or clothes: - Just so appear'd the Grecian forces, - Cover'd with dust by carts and horses. - Mars in the middle of 'em stood, - With a huge pot-lid daub'd in blood; - And highly pleas'd he is to follow - The task assign'd him by Apollo. - Soon as Minerva went away - To drink her tea, and left the fray, - Mars nick'd the time when she was gone, - To lead the fainting Trojans on; - And then produc'd AEneas to - His joyful friends in <i>status quo</i>, - Attended by a dozen fellows - That look'd as if they'd 'scap'd the gallows - What way he came they little care; - 'Twas joy enough to find him there. - Fierce Discord now began to grumble; - Apollo made a fearful rumble; - Fame roar'd with all her hundred tongues; - Mars almost tore his brazen lungs: - In short, so well they play'd the deuce, - The Grecians thought all hell broke loose. - - Tydides with great Ajax stood, - Ulysses too, all daub'd with blood, - So firm, you'd think, besides the head, - Their bodies too were wood or lead. - The Grecians clos'd their files, and then - Expect the foe, like Englishmen. - No word was heard through all the host, - They look as made of stone or post. - Thus, on a sultry summer's day, - When all the winds have ceas'd to play, - A cloud of smoke obscures the top - Of neighbour Drinkall's blacksmith's shop. - - And now great Agamemnon's shanks - Kept trotting up and down the ranks, - Setting his knaves in proper rows, - And turning out their sweaty toes: - Then to his fainting crew begun - To speak as thus: If once ye run, - By Jove, you'll all be piss'd upon! - Some people think they're mighty cunning, - If they can save themselves by running; - But let me tell you, this good day, - The man's undone that runs away. - - No more he jabber'd, but on high - In air he let his trapstick fly. - The broomshaft happ'd to light upon - A hearty cock, nam'd Deicoon, - AEneas' friend, belov'd by all - The race of Priam, great and small, - Long had he fought in foremost ranks, - And oft receiv'd the Speaker's thanks; - His potlid, though exceeding tough, - To ward the blow's not strong enough, - The targe is bruis'd, the belt is cut, - And lent him a damn'd knock o' th' gut. - The stroke dispatch'd the loon to hell, - And his teeth chatter'd as he fell. - AEneas straight lugs out his stick, - And ply'd his strokes so very thick, - That two bold Grecian bloods, as soon - As you'd count five, he tumbled down; - Their pedigrees if you will trace, - You'll find but few of higher race: - These sparks, demolish'd by AEneas, - Were great great grandsons of Alpheus, - A good old fisherman, that never - Was tir'd with fishing in the river; - But did so close to business keep, - Amongst the sedges he would sleep. - They came to help the cuckold Greek - His cuckold-making wife to seek; - Just like two mastiff puppies, which - Had stray'd too early from the bitch, - Ventur'd, before their teeth were grown, - To fight, so both got tumbled down. - Great Menelaus fit to cry, - Full tilt does at AEneas fly. - Mars jogg'd him on to make his stand, - And feel the Trojan's heavy hand. - This Nestor's chatt'ring bastard 'spies, - And quick t' his assistance flies; - Thinks he, if this rum spouse of Nelly - Should get a knock across the belly, - By all this trouble we shall gain - To know, our labour is in vain. - - The heroes now had met each other, - And shak'd their nobs at one another; - When fierce Antilochus was seen - To throw his potlid in between. - The Trojan swore it was not fair - One man should, box with such a pair - Of ill-look'd whelps, so turn'd about - To find a better bargain out, - And left the two poor souls; he'd beaten, - On the green grass to bleach and sweeten. - - [Illustration: Book V, page 275. - The Trojan swore it was not fair - One man should, box with such a pair - Of ill-look'd whelps, so turn'd about - To find a better bargain out.--] - - There was a man well cloth'd in buff, - That led the Paphlagonians tough. - Atrides took the proper season, - Behind his back to cut his weasand: - His 'squire had turn'd his nags to run, - When in came chatt'ring Nestor's son, - And threw a thumping cobble stone, - Which hit his arm, and broke the bone. - 'Twas follow'd by a knock o' the crown; - He drops the reins, and tumbles down. - His skull-cap plough'd the sand, and there - His nob stuck fast, his legs in air - Were kicking flies, but very soon - Some hackney-Coadies ran him down: - The younker then, without delay. - Whips up, and drives his cart away. - - All this was seen by valiant Hector, - The Trojans' hope and great protector, - Who thund'ring did the battle enter; - His soldiers follow at a venture. - The boldest Greeks he valued not, - Since he'd such rare companions got. - Bellona fierce, and Mars so grum, - Attended closely at his bum. - Tydides quickly smelt a rat; - His valiant heart went pit-a-pat. - As when a simple country put, - To see his grannum walks on foot, - If running brook comes cross his nose, - And with a mighty bustle flows, - Amaz'd the gaping bumpkin stops, - Turns on his heels, and home he pops: - Poor Diom. was as much amaz'd, - And gaz'd and gap'd, and gap'd and gaz'd; - At last, though woefully afraid, - He found his tongue, and thus he said: - - Smite me, but I've been wond'ring what - Could make my heart go pit-a-pat; - But now 'tis out, for bully Mars - I see is hard at Hector's a--e: - Therefore, my boys, since that the case is, - Fall back, but show the whelp your faces. - We'll fight with men, and give them odds, - But devils cannot fight with gods. - - As they walk'd off, bold Hector soon - Came up, and knock'd two fellows down, - Full captains both, and hearts of oak, - Yet both their pates stern Hector broke; - Together in one c'rt they tumbled, - And from it both together tumbled. - This heavy Ajax chanc'd to see, - Which turn'd his lead to mercury, - And, being a revengeful dog - (Though mostly heavy as a log), - A mopstick with such force he threw, - As bruis'd the breast, and belly too, - Of Amphius, who once as happy - In flocks and herds, and good brown nappy; - Yet bravely led his jolly men - To Troy, but ne'er went back again. - As he fell squash upon his bum, - His potlid made a mighty hum. - Ajax sprung forward, for he thought - To get possession of his coat; - But to come at it was the matter, - Broomsticks about his ears so clatter; - Yet did he venture one bold click - For the recov'ry of his stick. - More he durst not, the foe came on; - He struts away, but scorns to run. - - Whilst thus they tugg'd, a man there came, - Tlepolemus I think his name, - Driving his fiery tits full speed on. - To get a knock at bold Sarpedon: - He was the son of Hercules, - Who did a huge great lion seize, - Pull'd his great beard from off his chin, - And from his body stripp'd his skin, - Then with an iron skewer did tack it - About his shoulders for a jacket; - This bully's son, before a stroke - Was struck, to bold Sarpedon spoke: - - Halloo! you, Mr. Lycian pleader, - Pray how the pox 'came you a leader? - Your business is, if I judge right, - To puzzle causes, not to fight; - Such pretty fellows much I love - To call themselves the sons of Jove. - Pray, Sir, what task was ever set you, - To prove some tailor did not get you? - The de'il a thing have you e'er done - To prove yourself the Thund'rer's son: - Nought but a cross-legg'd cabbage-eater - Could ever get so poor a creature. - My dad in broils would never flinch: - We know Jove got him ev'ry inch. - He once destroy'd this mighty town, - Like Vernon, with six ships alone; - And these strong walls that look so taking, - Are built on rubbish of his making. - But who are you, good Mr. Nokes, - That gape as if you'd swallow folks, - And, whilst thy raggamuffins tumble, - Dare not so much as seem to grumble? - No longer shalt thou stinking stand, - But feel the weight of my right hand. - - Whilst thus he like a blackguard spoke, - Silence the Lycian gently broke: - Your dad, you saucy whelp, 'tis true, - Was worth three dozen such as you. - These walls he justly tumbled down, - Because that rogue Laomedon - Had promis'd him a string of horses, - Instead of which he gave him curses; - Like an old scoundrel vilely us'd him, - And, just as you do me, abus'd him: - You should have been my noisy spark, - A cobler, or a parish-clerk. - My name, your family may spread it; - In drubbing you there's little credit: - But yet, although it hurts my pride, - I'll condescend to trim your hide. - - Just at that instant, both on high - Their broomsticks rais'd, and both let fly: - Well aim'd were both: Sarpedon's hit, - And his thick brawny neck did split; - Made near his throat a hole so big, - It bled as if you'd stuck a pig; - Nor did the other broomstick fly - In vain, it bruis'd Sarpedon's thigh; - And had not Jupiter, to save him, - Swore that the devil should not have him - That bout, I'll venture to be shot - If then he had not gone to pot: - But in a hurry, from the fray, - His comrades bore him far away, - Though, as they lugg'd him through the throng, - They let him drag the stick along; - Whether through haste or fear 'twas done, - Remains a secret yet unknown. - Tlepolemus, who came to scoff, - His friends the Grecians lugg'd him off. - - Then sly Ulysses angry grew: - Shall I, says he, Jove's son pursue; - Or shall I smash this Lycian crew? - Great Jove and fate forbade the first, - But gave him leave to do his worst - Amongst the raggamuffins, who - Soon found he was but word and blow; - For Cromeus he, and bold Alaster, - Knock'd with his broomstick down much faster - Than boys tip nine-pins; Halius, too, - He in his wrath beat black and blue; - Prytenis' shoulders next he rubb'd, - And then the brave Alcander drubb'd; - Noemen last of all fell down; - And more had been demolish'd soon, - But Hector saw, and ran so fast, - He tumbled o'er his head for haste; - So eagerly his fury bore him, - He drove them all like sheep before him. - - Sarpedon, glad to find him near him, - Egg'd that a word or two he'd hear him: - Don't suffer any Grecian varlet - To steal my best new coat of scarlet; - Pray do not let the rogues so serve me, - But from the plund'ring dogs preserve me. - If here I should depart this life, - And no more see my loving wife, - Yet in our village let me lie, - My death will make th' whole parish cry. - With real grief they'll wring their hand, - As England did for Cumberland. - - Hector for answer nothing spoke: - But rush'd among the Greeks like smoke: - His weapon in their blood he steeps, - And drives the scoundrels upon heaps. - Sarpedon now, behind a stack - Of hay, was laid upon his back. - Lieutenant Polagon was nigh, - Who pluck'd the broomstick from his thigh. - The soul was flying once away, - But thought 'twas better much to stay: - For honest Boreas, in a breeze, - Whipp'd up his nose and gave him ease. - - The Greeks drew back afraid of Mars, - Yet not one Greek would show his a----e: - No soldier would expose his back, - Though Hector sev'ral sculls did crack. - When young, I've heard my granny say. - That ev'ry dog must have his day; - And now 'twas Hector's turn to gall 'em, - And with a vengeance did he maul 'em. - Mars help'd to cut the matter short, - And knock'd the rascals down for sport. - First Teuthras fell, who made good cider; - Orestes next, a fam'd rough-rider. - Then Trechus, with the rest, was humbled, - And Oenomaues headlong tumbled. - Oresbius, though he wore a mitre, - Was fool enough to turn a fighter - (But, be it spoken to their praise, - The priests are wiser now-a-days). - If now-a-days a priest you find - In broils, some wench is in the wind: - Much better care our parsons take - Than ever fight for fighting sake. - In Yorkshire his preferments lay; - The farmers rich that heard him pray. - Had he been reading th' ev'ning lecture, - He'd never been dispatch'd by Hector; - But, since he would this trade pursue, - E'en as he bak'd well let him brew. - - Juno, a scold past heaven's' matching, - For ever spent her time in watching; - Spies what confounded work was made. - And thus address'd the fighting jade: - Shall all we've done be thus abolish'd, - And Greece by yon' vile rogues demolish'd? - You and myself have pass'd our word - (Which they must think not worth a t--d), - That Troy's old walls shall very soon - Be by the Grecians tumbled down. - Pray how can this be brought about, - If gods for Troy thus fight it out? - That loggerheaded Mars I spy: - What think you now if we should try - To make the scurvy rascal run? - No sooner was it said than done. - They call'd a coach, when out of hand - A coach was brought at their command. - Hebe, before they mount the car, - The axle greas'd with oil and tar. - This she perform'd at their desire, - Lest they should set the coach on fire; - For, as they were in devilish haste, - They knew they should drive hellish fast, - On time I should too much encroach, - To tell the beauties of this coach: - Let it suffice to say, the maker - Exceeded any in Long-Acre; - A better coach was never seen - Excepting one:--God save the queen! - Juno turns ostler in her fury, - And joins the horses in a hurry. - Pallas then quickly doffs her clothes, - Which on the chamber floor she throws; - As modern sluts, worse taught than fed, - Do nightly when they go to bed. - To make her look more like a Broughton, - She whipp'd her father's old buff coat on; - Then ty'd about his great black targe - A band of eels, some small some large, - To lead mankind into mistakes, - And make 'em think her eels were snakes. - Then in the centre did she place - A most confounded ugly face; - But neither Heidegger's nor Nash's, - For theirs were red, this pale as ashes. - Jove's skull-cap, so bedeck'd with feather, - Twelve judges' wigs put all together, - Compar'd to it, would sure enough - Seem but a mod'rate barber's puff, - She put upon her busy nob; - And, that she might complete the job, - In her right hand she pois'd a stick, - Long as the may-pole and as thick. - The whip-thong cracks, away they go - Across the clouds je-up je-o. - The Hours took each their turn to wait, - And shut or ope the turnpike-gate; - But such a noise made these two elves - The gates flew open of themselves. - Upwards the foaming steeds they stretch, - And soon the mount Olympus reach, - Where Jove, t' enjoy the breezes cool, - Was set upon a three-legg'd stool. - Juno now pulls, and swears, and curses, - But yet could hardly stop the horses; - Then, as she always us'd to do, - Falls at him like a vixen shrew: - - To see that Mars rebel, I wonder - You can't find bus'ness for your thunder: - But here you sit and crack your jokes, - To see him smash such heaps of folks. - Look down but where yon' Greeks are laid, - You'll see what work the dog has made. - E'en Venus and Apollo, you know, - Are making faces now at Juno. - But as to that thick-headed hang-dog, - Venus's bully-back and bang-dog, - That Mars, who makes such woeful rout, - And kicks the Grecians so about, - Only give Pallas leave to douse him, - And ravish me if she don't souse him, - Teach him forbidden ground to roam, - And make him glad to scamper home! - - Jove answers (pleas'd so soon to part) - Go drub his hide with all my heart; - Pallas the best can tell you how, - The wench has pelted him ere now. - - Their car they mounted in a trice, - Nor staid they to be bidden twice. - Down the new turnpike road they trot, - As swift as balls from cannon shot; - Though part o' th' turnpike was so steeps - The horses did not trot, but leap, - And at each single bound they took - They leap'd as far as you can look. - On earth they fix their nimble feet - Where Simois and Scamander meet. - When Juno made a sort of dew, - From which ambrosial clover grew; - For heav'nly high-bred steeds, alas - Would snuff their nose at common grass; - For common grass had one great fault, - 'Twas fresh, and Juno's grass was salt. - Then through the air they trudg'd on foot, - And quickly found that station out - Where Hector with his wooden sabre - Did all the Grecian bones belabour. - A heap of ill-look'd fellows stood - Round Diomede, all daub'd with blood: - Whether like lions in your eye, - Or bears, they seem'd, don't signify. - Juno was always pretty loud, - But most when got into a crowd; - And, though she had the best of tongues, - She borrow'd Peter Stentor's lungs. - This Stentor was a common crier, - And could, or Mrs. Fame's a liar, - With downright bawling make more din - Than any fifty common men. - - O scoundrel Greeks! a coward race! - In whom of man no mark we trace, - Except a damn'd red nose and face! - When great Achilles led ye all, - The Trojans fought behind their wall; - But now they kick you where they please, - And soon will kick you o'er the seas. - - As pepper warms your water-gruel, - This added to their rage fresh fuel. - - In the mean time upon the ground - Was Diomede by Pallas found; - Of a bad thing he made the best, - And by himself his scratch he drest, - Wash'd all the dust and sweat clean out, - And wrapp'd it in a greasy clout; - Though nought he said, it gave such pain - As made him grin and sweat again. - - Whilst thus the loon his scratch was cleaning, - Pallas was on his cart-tail leaning; - When thus the jade began the farce: - Thou Tydeus' bastard! thou mine a----! - Thy father, though his limbs were short all, - Was a bold-hearted fighting mortal, - Us'd to drive forward like a devil; - Myself could hardly make him civil. - To Thebes I sent the hungry thief, - And there he ate up all their beef; - Without companion did he venture - At dinner-time their town to enter; - Drank for his own share half a barrel - Of ale, and then began to quarrel; - Abus'd 'em all for sons of whores, - And kick'd the scoundrels out of doors. - Thee too I've taken greater care of - Than yet perhaps thou art aware of; - But am afraid the goddess Fear, - Has drove my fighting champion here. - - Madam, says he, I always knew - My obligations great to you; - But I must tell you, you disgrace me; - Fear dares as well be damn'd as face me. - I think you said there would be odds - Against me, if I fought with gods: - I might, you thought, on Venus venture; - I did, but far I could not enter, - Though 'faith a willing stroke I lent her; - But in her hand, if I must tell ye, - She caught my tool, and say'd her belly: - And now 'tis only to obey - Your orders, that I keep away: - For Mars you'll see, if you'll but look, - Kicking the Greeks about like smoke. - - Pallas replies, Do you but mind - My good advice, and you shall find - This blust ring whelp, with all his crew - Of bullying scrubs, sha'nt conquer you; - But with your broomstaff, when you meet him, - Across the scoundrel's gizzard greet him: - A turncoat rogue, that ne'er abides - Three days before he changes sides, - And, without either rhyme or reason, - Helps people, in or out of season! - - This said, she in an instant knocks - The harmless driver off his box, - Who star'd and gap'd to think that he, - Had lost his place so suddenly; - Not that he car'd a sixpence for't, - But thought the warning mighty short: - Then mounting up with nimble feet, - Clapp'd her hard bum upon his seat; - But with her heavy buttocks she - Had like to've broke the axle-tree. - Howe'er, to that she gave small heed, - But drove her nags at Mars full speed: - Though, lest her nob should get a rap, - She slipp'd on Pluto's wishing-cap: - This cap, whene'er a head was in it, - Became invisible that minute. - Just then had Mars, his strength to try, - Knock'd down a trooper six feet high; - His name, if I mistake not, was - Or Periphus, or Periphas. - The bully left him where he fell, - And flew at Diomede pell-mell. - Though he look'd grim as grim may be, - The Grecian look'd as grim as he. - Now Mars, because a god, you know, - Expected he should have th' first blow; - So threw his staff; but Pall, did guide - The steeds so well, it flew quite wide. - Then Diomede let fly his stick, - Which gave the bully's guts a prick; - For instantly the hang-dog felt - The point come through his greasy belt. - The Greek and Trojan hosts together - Couldn't make such noise as this bell-wether - Roaring: he in a stinking mist - Scamper'd away to heav'n bepist; - Where at Jove's feet this bullying hulks - Sat almost half an hour i' th' sulks, - Then sobb'd as if his heart would break, - And blubb'ring made a shift to speak: - - I always thought that your commission - Was given you upon condition - That you took care to keep folks quiet, - And rather quell than raise a riot; - But you so far your orders slight, - With gods you let yon' rascals fight; - For let me tell you, Mr. Justice, - I'll take my oath that all this dust is - Of your own raising: if your daughter - Had had some better manners taught her, - And her hard bum well jerk'd with rods, - She'd never thus play'd tricks with gods. - Instead of this, you overlook her, - And hap will swear that I mistook her. - 'Tis plain,--so partial you are grown, - The jade's a bastard of your own; - She now has got a Grecian cully, - One Diomede, a thick-skull'd bully, - And him this wheedling cunning puss. - Has hearten'd up to fight with us. - At Venus first he made a stand, - And whipp'd his tool into her hand. - Me next the whore's-bird drove away, - So thump'd and bruis'd I durst not stay, - Lest, if I dropp'd into a swoon, - These wicked whelps should keep me down, - And, treading on my back and belly, - Work all my ribs and guts to jelly. - - Jove, vex'd to th' heart before he spoke, - Thus answer'd, with an angry look: - Has bully Mars forgot his ranting, - And ta'en up Whitfield's trade of canting? - Dost thou, on whom stern mischief waits, - Complain of blows and broken pates; - And 'cause so often thou hast got free, - Expect for ever to come scot-free? - Thou bullying rogue, of all our crew - I hate thee most, by God I do! - From morn to night thou'rt never quiet, - Unless when kicking up a riot; - I do not know of such another - In all the world, except thy mother; - And was her sex but chang'd to ours, - She'd kick the devil out of doors: - But since she says thou art my son, - I'll try for once what can be done; - Else would I set thee in the stocks, - Or chain thy guts to burning rocks; - Make thee with wicked Titans roar, - A thousand thousand years and more: - Then pointing to his man, cries, Stir, John, - And ply your heels to fetch a surgeon. - Peon soon came. Says he, My cully, - Pray do your best to cure this bully. - A plague upon his broils and rapes, - They always bring him into scrapes. - - The surgeon, though it hardly bled, - Look'd mighty grave, and shook his head, - But fearing it would close of course, - Before he'd time to make it worse, - Whips out his block-tin box, and, faster - Than cits eat custard, spread a plaster, - With which, in less than half an hour, - He made a safe and perfect cure; - But then observe that flesh of gods - Heals quicker far than ours by odds. - Next, by the help of wooden squirt - His hands and face he cleans'd from dirt; - Then set him on a cushion down, - Where Hebe brought a Scotch-plaid gown, - Which having girt with leathern strap, - He next put on a large fur cap. - Thus dress'd, or in my word no trust is, - The god of battle look'd the justice. - And why he may'nt, when battles cease, - Be made a justice of the peace, - I cannot see----On recollection, - His want of brains is no objection; - No other qualities they need, - But just to write their names and read: - The trade is learnt in half an hour, - To spare the rich and flog the poor. - - Juno and Pallas, having done - The bus'ness they came down upon, - And bully Mars from battle driven, - Mount up to drink their tea in heaven. - - - - [1] Menelaus. - - [2] The author could not help letting Mars talk in a soldier-like style. - - - - - THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - When all the gods to heav'n are gone. - The Grecians make the Trojans run, - Which, by the by, is demonstration - The devil help'd the Grecian nation; - For when no heav'nly guests are there, - He plays the devil without fear. - Helenus sets his brains a-brewing, - How to prevent the Trojans' ruin; - Then orders Hector to the town, - To bid 'em pray to Pallas soon, - That she'd remove such fighting cattle - As this Tydides from the battle. - In the mean time, by hocus pocus, - This bully Diomede and Glaucus - Found that of both the great grandfather - Had drank some pots of ale together; - So made a friendship, and, to tack it, - Exchang'd each other's buff-skin jacket. - Hector then gets the bus'ness done - The conjuror had sent him on, - Makes Paris fetch his broomshaft down, - And join him at the end o' th' town; - Bestows, ere he renews the strife, - Some crumbs of comfort on his wife. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK VI. - - - - The squabbling gods the fight forsake. - And leave mankind to brew and bake - Just as they please; then broomsticks flew, - And smoking hot the squabble grew, - Which made Scamander's little flood - Get quickly trampled into mud: - In Simois, our bard supposes, - They came to wash their bloody noses, - By which 'tis clearly understood, - They fought to th' knees in blood and mud. - - Great Ajax first came blust'ring on, - And mischief presently begun. - One Acamas the bully found, - And fell'd him flat, upon the ground; - His broomstick lent him such a rap, - As broke his pate and bruis'd his cap. - - Axylus next, an honest soul, - Got a great knock o' th' jobbernoul: - At home he always kept good cheer, - And made folks welcome far and near - Close by the road his house did lie, - Where men and horses passing by - Might get a drink, if they were dry: - Just at the side of Croydon Common, - He kept the sign o' th' Silent Woman - (A silent woman, Sir, you said! - Pray, was she drawn without a head? - Yes, Sir, she was: you never read on - A silent woman with a head on). - It happ'd that neither guest nor stranger - Came by to warn him of his danger; - But as he gap'd, expecting soon - Some tradesmen, customers from town, - Tydides came and knock'd him down. - Then, at another stroke, this rapster - Settled Calisius, his tapster. - Euryalus kick'd Dresus down, - And next he crack'd Opheltius' crown; - Not so content, with pairs begins, - And smash'd two young and tender twins, - Sons of Bucolion, who had made - A mistress of a hard-bum'd jade, - Whom in his woods one morn he found - Picking dry sticks from off the ground. - As on their backs the younkers lay, - His rogueship stole their coats away. - Just after that, one Polypaetes - Dispatch'd Astyalus to greet his - Old friends in hell. Ulysses next, - Because the rogues his soul had vex'd, - Murder'd Pydites: then comes Teucer, - And made poor Aretaon spew, Sir; - When, in a rage, ran Nestor's lad, - Chatt'ring just like his queer old dad; - I'll make these Trojan rascals fear us, - And straight demolish'd brave Ablerus; - Which when great Agamemnon saw, - He gave Elatus such a blow, - As fell'd him down upon his crupper, - And spoil'd the luckless Trojan's supper. - Such a damn'd knock the Grecian gave him, - That all his money could not save him. - Eurypylus Melanthius slew, - And Phylacus from Leitus flew, - But could not 'scape him any how. - Adrastus, by ill luck, came bump - Upon a cursed crab-tree stump; - It smash'd his wheels, both nave and spoke, - And all the cart to pieces broke. - The horses flew where none could find 'em, - And left their luckless load behind 'em, - As he lay kicking on the sands, - The cuckold o'er him threat'ning stands, - Pilgarlick lifts his hands on high, - And begs for life most lustily: - - May't please your honour let me live, - A good round sum my dad will give: - When he for my great loss has wept, - And finds I'm but in limbo kept, - Depend he then will give, for ransom, - A purse with something very handsome. - - He spoke: the honest cuckold's pity - Was touch'd by this half mournful ditty; - But Agamemnon, in a fury, - Just like an English thick-scull'd jury, - Destroy'd all pity in a hurry. - - Quoth he, Th' old boy shall double damn me, - Before I'll let a Trojan flam me! - Christians give scoundrels good for evil; - But let us smoke 'em to the devil. - I live in hopes that Troy will fall, - Their whores, and rogues, and brats, and all, - That other whoring whelps, discerning - Their wicked exit, may take warning, - Nor rove about from street to street, - To cuckold every man they meet. - - This speech he made with dreadful ire, - And set the cuckold's blood on fire, - Who swore he would not grant the boon; - So Agamemnon knock'd him down, - And, spite of all the Trojan's tears, - Batter'd his brains about his ears. - - Nestor, who saw this bus'ness done, - Like an old harden'd rogue look'd on; - Then cries, My lads, in this tough job, - Don't stay to pick a single fob, - But, after we have work'd their buff, - We then shall all have chink enough. - - Now Greece had surely got the day, - And Troy as surely run away, - But wisely Helenus prepares - To mend their bitter bad affairs, - And bring 'em (since they durst not stand) - Out of this scrape by slight-of-hand. - - When thus to Hector and AEneas - He tells his mind: Old friends, you see us - Sorely put to't; but yet 'tis true, - The gods have left it all to you - To bring us off; for, at this pinch, - The de'il a god will stir an inch, - But now look on in expectation - That you yourself, on this occasion, - Will try your utmost strength and cunning, - To stop your ragged rogues from running. - When you have cheer'd each heartless tup, - Leave it to us to keep it up. - Mean time, you Hector, go, I pray, - To our old mother Hecuba; - Tell her, she must forthwith employ - The oldest maids we have in Troy, - And bid 'em cease their lies and malice, - To go and pray to Madam Pallas, - Who is by fits as cross a jade - As any wrinkled mortal maid; - Then bid them lay upon her knee - The richest satin negligee - My mother has in all her store: - If finely daub'd with tinsel o'er, - 'Twill stand the better chance to please her, - And may, by great good luck, appease her. - Then let 'em add, if more she choose, - We'll send a dozen maiden cows. - These things, unless the devil's in her, - I'm pretty sure can't fail to win her - To spare our hen-peck'd cuckolds' lives, - With all our brawling brats and wives, - Nor longer suffer Diomede - To make the Trojans' noses bleed. - Such thumps he lends our soldiers, that - To him Achilles seems a sprat. - This speech bold Hector heard, and plump - From off his cart he took a jump; - Ran where he found the varlets slack, - And cheer'd them with a clap o' th' back. - To such a pitch does he restore 'em, - They drive the Grecian bloods before 'em. - Two staves he brandish'd in the air, - So thick they made the Grecians stare, - Who thought the Trojans, to resist 'em, - Had hir'd some goblin to assist 'em. - - Then Hector spoke as loud as thunder: - Hear! all ye roaring sons of plunder, - Ye Dardans of the nearer stations, - And those who come from distant nations, - Think on your valiant fathers' tasks! - 'Tis all, in troth, that Hector asks. - Whilst I a little bus'ness do - In Troy, the squabble rests on you. - I go to bid our grandames all, - And old maids, on their kneppers fall: - The pray'rs they mumble will, no doubt, - Help us to thrash the Greeks this bout. - - He said no more, but took a stride, - Miss P----s-us' hoop's not half so wide; - Then threw his potlid o'er his back, - And to the Trojan gates did pack. - This mighty orb of brass and steel - Reach'd from his neck well nigh his heel, - Which kicking as he walk'd along, - Like an old postman's bell it rung. - Now, Hector gone, both sides think fit - To take their wind a little bit; - When Glaucus, and that Grecian spark, - Tydides, did each other mark. - Both in one mind, they bounce and kick, - And each man flourishes his stick; - When Diom., though no talking man, - Was first to speak, and thus began: - - Your face I ne'er before did see, - Pray, who the devil can you be, - Who dares to beard that Diomede, - That makes so many noses bleed? - Those that meet me make small resistance, - When Pallas lends me her assistance, - And that she will do all this week: - If therefore you're a god, pray speak; - For, if you are, my staff can't fright you, - But smite my liver if I'll fight you! - I've had my share enough of evils, - And box no more with gods and devils; - For, happen as it may, i' th' end on't, - They'll sit upon your skirts, depend on't. - You know Lycurgus did not fear 'em, - But, to his cost, he came too near 'em. - He scar'd the god of wine for fun, - And made his drunken messmates run. - Their spears, with vines and ivy bound, - Lay scatter'd all along the ground; - And Bacchus too, to hide his head, - Crept to his cousin Thetis' bed. - But soon their angry godships sent - The devil of a punishment: - For, whilst he slept, they, by surprise, - Ran needles into both his eyes; - Then drove him through the world so wide - To beg his bread without a guide, - Nor would allow th' unlucky king - A dog to lead him in a string: - By which he got so badly serv'd, - In less than half a year he starv'd. - I fight no gods; but, if a man - Thou art, I'll drub thee if I can. - Some devil, sure, has made thee judge ill, - To come so near my fatal cudgel. - - Glaucus replies: Great Sir, since you - From whence I came desire to know, - Attend, I'll tell a tale so rare, - Were you stone blind 'twould make you stare. - You know the gang of nine-pins, soon - As the bowl hits, come tumbling down; - Then are set up, when that throw's o'er, - To tumble as they did before. - Just so a race that's always grumbling, - The race of mortal rogues, keeps tumbling. - This d'ye see's by way of text, - And, if your patience won't be vext, - My pedigree is coming next. - Listen, and, if your ears don't fail, - You'll hear an oddish kind of tale; - But ev'ry syllable is true, - Or slam me if I'd tell it you! - Near Argos, fam'd for roguish coopers, - And breeding horses fit for troopers, - A city stands upon that coast - Where Sysiphus once rul'd the roast, - Glaucus, this Sisyphus's son, - Was father of Bellerophon, - Who was, to tell the real truth, - A very comely, hopeful youth. - Because he topp'd all other fellows - In beauty, Prestus would be jealous; - And, being but a sort of Turk, - He kept this younker hard at work. - 'Tis true Antea, or I miss her, - Wanted Bellerophon to kiss her: - Nay more, she plainly told him so; - But he, like Joseph, answered, No! - For which our beaux all think he was - An animal they call an ass. - Howe'er, the hussey told her spouse, - He try'd to be about her house: - And, though he scorn'd to come so nigh it, - The brimstone swore he took her by it. - - No sooner was th' old fellow told - This youth attack'd his copyhold, - But he was bloody wroth, d'ye see, - As any honest man might be; - But, as the younker was his guest, - He judg'd it would be for the best - (To save the youth from being hurt - Within the liberties of court) - To send him to some foreign shore, - In hopes to hear of him no more. - What could the bubbled king do better - Than cheat him with Uriah's letter? - And thus, as if some good was meant him, - The jealous rogue to Lycia sent him, - To the old daddy of his wife, - In hopes he there would lose his life; - Not doubting but the whelp he'd slaughter - For off'ring to corrupt his daughter. - - Away then goes Bellerophon, - Unknowing what he went upon; - Enter'd the Lycian palace drest - In a full suit, his very best. - The good old monarch did bestir him, - And made nine days' bull-baitings for him; - But the tenth morning took him out, - And ask'd him what he came about? - On which he fumbled in his jacket, - And lugg'd him out the famous packet. - This quickly made the errand known - The harmless lad was sent upon. - The good old Lycian, with surprise, - First rubb'd, then read, then rubb'd his eyes; - But, finding matters were no better, - He e'en resolv'd t' obey the letter; - So sent him out to fight Chimera, - A mottled monster rough as bear-a. - Her bum was dragon, body goat, - A lion's neck, and head, and throat; - No living mortal durst come nigh her - She farted smoke, and belch'd up fire. - Bellerophon could read the sky, - When the stars happen'd to be nigh; - So cast a figure, as 'tis said, - Then quickly knock'd this beast o' th' head. - As he return'd, he next gave chase, - And kill'd the Solymaean race, - A pack of ranting roaring fellows, - As ever grac'd a three-legg'd gallows. - To them the Amazons succeed, - A strange hermaphroditish breed: - No mortal man these jades could match, - 'Cause they could scold, and bite, and scratch; - But, by the help of cod and oysters, - He quickly tam'd this crew of roysters: - Soon as they felt his strokes and thwacks, - The brims all fell upon their backs. - Though here his troubles did not cease, - Nor was he yet to live in peace. - Under a farmer's old pigsty - A dozen rogues conceal'd did lie; - But, when he got them in his clutches, - He qualify'd them all for crutches, - Left 'em so bruis'd upon the plain, - Not one could limp it home again. - - Zooks! said the king, I'll lay a groat, - There's more in this than first I thought: - This man can be no earth-born clod, - But bastard to some whoring god. - A fellow that can make such slaughter, - And would have trimm'd my other daughter, - Since he by some strange chance has mist her, - I think I'll let him trim her sister; - And, that the youth the girl may keep, - I'll take him into partnership. - My trade he'll learn, I do not fear, - In far less time than half a year; - 'Tis but to kick, and cuff, and swear. - I knew a good old monarch that, - When angry, only kick'd his hat: - Now, when I'm vex'd, both friends and foes - Have felt the force of my square toes. - Favours once got, they come none near you; - But kick 'em, and they always fear you: - And this I ever will maintain - The best and easiest way to reign. - - No sooner was it said than done, - He made him partner of his throne; - I mean the very morning after - He'd done his best to please his daughter: - For she, when ask'd of his behaviour, - Had spoken greatly in his favour; - And swore, like royal F----'s[1] wife, - She ne'er was thrum'd so in her life; - On which the Lycians gave him stone - And ground to build a house upon, - With a good orchard full of fruit, - And a brave field of wheat to boot. - - Long did he reign in peace and plenty, - Full nineteen years, though some say twenty. - Two sons he had, and eke one daughter, - So fair, she caus'd Jove's chaps to water, - Who made no words, but whipp'd upon her, - And got the brave Sarpedon on her. - At last attack'd by falling fits, - Which rather hurt his little wits, - Alone o'er hills and dales he ran, - And would not bear the sight of man. - Whilst thus he roam'd amongst the cattle, - His eldest son was slain in battle: - And Mrs. Phoebe, one dark night, - Shot his poor daughter out of spite; - Fearing next time Jove got upon her, - He hap might make a goddess on her. - Hippolachus was left, and he, - That same Hippolachus, got me: - By his direction here I swagger, - And value no man's sword or dagger. - I always choose the first to stand - In fight, as well as in command; - And always am the first to try - To storm a trench or mutton-pie: - My father's fame in future story - Shall fall far short of mine in glory. - - The Grecian, when he heard this tale, - Jump'd up as brisk as bottled ale; - Down went his broomshaft on the sands, - And taking Glaucus by the hands, - Whilst both his sweaty palms he press'd, - He cries, You are my ancient guest; - And therefore, as the matter stands, - Let us without deceit shake hands. - Your grandsire was my grand-dad's guest - For twenty days he did him feast - With mutton-chops, and tart, and custard, - And humming beer as strong as mustard: - Thy grandsire on the twentieth day - Was pleas'd to take himself away; - Because he guess'd he very nigh - Had drank th' old fellow's cellars dry: - But to his landlord first thought proper - To give a can hoop'd round with copper; - Who straight amidst his lumber felt, - And fumbled out an old sword-belt, - Which in return he then presented; - And thus their friendship was cemented. - Brimful of porter, when I'm able, - This can is fill'd for my own table, - 'Tis from this can I learnt this story, - Which I have laid so plain before you; - For my poor dad, though stout and strong, - Let slip his wind when I was young; - Nor had th' old Grecian time to spare, - To teach his lad a single prayer: - I shame to tell the truth, but all - The prayers that I can say, I stole. - But from this day let you and I - Assist each other by the by: - If ever I should travel more, - Flux me if I will pass your door! - And if my country you should see, - Pray come and take pot-luck with me. - Enough of Trojan pates there are - For me to break in this damn'd war; - And there will be, I'm sure, no lack - Of Grecian skulls for you to crack: - So let what will befall the rout, - Pray why should you and I fall out? - To show each host we scorn to bubble it; - Let me have yours, and here's my doublet. - - Though now-a-days so bold a push - Would make an honest Hebrew blush. - Yet this queer varlet Diomede - Did most amazingly succeed; - For his buff coat both greas'd and old - He got a new one lac'd with gold. - His mighty buff-skin coat of coats, - When new, had cost him just nine groats; - I think I speak the very most; - But Glaucus's a hundred cost; - Though his great princely soul was such, - He did not value twice as much. - - Whilst Diomede this chief was tricking, - Hector his brazen shield was kicking, - And strode along at such a rate, - He'd got within the Scaean Gate, - Under a tree o'ergrown with moss, - That serv'd 'em for a market-cross. - Close by the whipping-post and stocks. - Bold Hector met with sundry flocks - Of soldiers' wives, and many others, - Asking for husbands, sons, and brothers. - So bad, says he, with us it fares, - I'd have ye all go say your prayers. - With hasty strides away he tramp'd - To Priam's palace, newly vamp'd, - Near which was half a hundred boxes, - For fifty sons and fifty doxies; - And not far off a dozen houses - For Priam's daughters and their spouses, - All finish'd nicely to a charm, - And thatch'd with straw to keep 'em warm. - Whilst Hector thought that no one ey'd him, - The good old Hecuba espy'd him; - That pretty wench Laodice - Bore the old lady company. - Hip, hip! she cry'd, to make him stand; - Then came and shook him by the hand: - - What sudden call could bring my son - Before the scuffle is half done? - If 'tis the gripes, I have within - A stoop of special Holland's gin. - But if thou'rt hither come to pray - Our wooden gods to drive away - Those Grecian rogues, and clear our doors - From all such noisy sons of whores, - Stay till I fetch our pewter cup; - You know their godships like a sup: - The priests won't tell the reason why; - But 'tis, I think, 'twixt you and I, - Because their rotten wood's so dry. - After you've fill'd their bellies full, - Then take yourself a hearty pull: - Our Trojan stingo has the merit - To cheer the heart, and raise the spirit. - - Hector replies; Pray keep your beer, - It only serves to make folks swear: - To men it mischief brings, so spare it, - But give it gods, their heads will bear it; - Or, if they should get tipsy, they - Have nought to do but snore all day. - But let some else perform that task, - I am not fit a boon to ask: - Whate'er I touch will have no luck, - You see my hands all blood and muck. - But you, old souls, without delay, - Must to that brim Minerva pray: - And mind you spread upon her knee - The richest satin negligee - That you have got in all your store; - If finely daub'd with tinsel o'er, - 'Twill stand the better chance to please her, - And may by great good luck appease her. - When she has listen'd to your vows, - We'll add a dozen virgin cows. - If she don't like so good a dinner, - As many devils must be in her, - As, we are told by parson Diggs, - Once popp'd into a drove of pigs. - But mind you bargain in your prayer, - That she'll our Trojan cuckolds spare, - Nor longer suffer Diomede - To make their pates and noses bleed. - This task I leave to you, good mother, - Whilst I go rouse my hopeful brother, - And try if, deaf to honour's name, - The whoring rogue has lost all shame. - I wish the whelp was under ground, - So deep he never could be found; - Myself would, if it was not treason, - Hang up a dog so lost to reason. - This war, that threats us all with ruin, - Is mischief of that rascal's brewing: - We never had this mischief felt, - Had he ten years ago been gelt. - - He spoke: his mother summon'd all - The good old women, short and tall. - Away they to the wardrobe go, - Which, open'd, made a tearing show, - To find the very things they sought, - That Paris from Sidonia brought; - For Paris chose to touch at Sidon, - To get some shoes and stockings try'd on - For his dear Nelly, who had scarce - An undam'd smicket to her a-- - When first they stole away from Greece; - But that's no matter, such a piece - A man of any soul might brag on, - Although her bum had ne'er a rag on. - Old Hec.[2] her spectacles lugg'd out, - To help her eyes to peep about, - And, looking sharp, she quickly sees - Above a dozen negligees - Hung up on pegs; so pitch'd on one - That had a deal of tinsel on. - Then foll'wing old Antenor's spouse, - They reach'd the door o' th' meeting-house. - Theano carried in her pocket - The only key that would unlock it, - Which out she lugg'd, and with a bang - Made the old rusty lock cry twang. - - When they were all got in together, - They roar'd like pigs in windy weather: - The priestess spread the gown, and then - Pray'd loud; th' old women bawl'd Amen! - - [Illustration: Book VI, page 338. - When they were all got in together, - They roar'd like pigs in windy weather. - The priestess spread the gown, and then - Pray'd loud; th' old women bawl'd Amen.] - - Once Troy's defence, O goddess stout! - Only with patience hear us out: - Let us this rogue Tydides humble, - And make him either run or tumble. - If this, O Pallas! you'll but do, - Twelve rare fat heifers we'll bestow - Upon you, if you hear our prayer, - And all our Trojan cuckolds spare. - - Thus the old women pray and vow, - And make a noise; but 'twould not do. - Whilst they say prayers not worth a louse, - Hector had travel'd to the house - Where Paris dwelt along with Helen-- - A very pretty little dwelling, - That join'd his father and his brother-- - So they were neighbours to each other: - This little mansion Paris' self - Contriv'd, both window, door, and shelf. - The Trojan chief had got a strong - Oak sapling, eight or ten feet long, - Hung with brass rings to make it rattle, - And scare the enemy in battle: - He knock'd, and scrap'd his shoes from dirt; - Then ent'ring, found him in his shirt - He'd stripp'd himself, the better to - Polish his skull-cap and his bow. - In this condition Hector found him, - With twenty broomsticks scatter'd round him. - Helen was standing by his knee, - Scolding her maids for drinking tea; - For though for breakfast she ne'er grudg'd it, - Yet in the afternoon they fudg'd it. - - - [Illustration: Book VI, page 340. - - - He knock'd a dozen times or more, - Then bump'd his rump against the door - 'Twas bolted with a wooden pin, - Which broke, and down he tumbled in.] - - - When Hector saw him in this pickle, - No wonder he began to stickle, - And thus began: By this good light! - You've nick'd the time to show your spite - Against poor Troy. Dost thou conspire - With Greece to set our barns on fire? - For thee our bloods all fight and tumble, - And kick and cuff, yet never grumble; - Till nothing's left to guard the gates, - But heaps of bruis'd and broken pates. - You whoring rascal, come along, - And bear a bob amidst the throng; - Why can't you run the risk of scars - In Mars' as well as Venus' wars, - Ere flames attack our huts and tow'rs, - And burn your dogship out of doors? - - Paris, who was a gentle youth, - Says, Brother, this is all God's truth: - Yet don't mistake me, mighty Sir; - Nor on my honour cast a slur. - I'm sorry you're so hard put to't, - And think I dare not box it out: - But say no more, no more let's prattle, - Helen commands me out to battle. - Who knows but Menelaus may, - On this, or hap some other day, - Get, though he makes such fuss and stir, - A Rowland for his Oliver? - One thing I'll promise, the next bout - I'll boldly try if I can do't. - But whilst I don my coat and cap, - Do you sit still or take a nap; - But if you go, you may be sure - I'll follow you in half an hour. - - Nelly, who had, you need not doubt her, - Like other wives, her wits about her, - To hinder Hector from replying - Began a sudden fit of crying. - Hector, who thought his stick had hit her, - Or else that Pug or Shock had bit her, - Whipp'd round about to ask the matter, - When thus the jade began to chatter: - Now let me tell you, brother Hector, - No living mortal can conjecture - The grief I suffer, 'cause I hide it, - But I no longer will abide it; - There's nothing else, I find, but speaking, - Can keep a woman's heart from breaking: - I wish they'd in a horse-pond duck'd me, - To cool my courage, ere they tuck'd me - Up in the bed where Paris ---- ----! - I wish, before this cursed strife, - By the small-pox I'd lost my life, - Or that my nose was full of pimples - As that old canting rogue D---l---'s: - I wish to God we'd both been drown'd - When first we cross'd the herring-pond! - But I may wish and make a pother, - Wish in one hand, and spit in t'other. - My cursed luck I e'er shall rue, - But most since Paris first I knew. - Women the worst will always choose, - Else I had got a better spouse; - I only mean a better fighter, - A buck that might have cudgell'd tighter - For other work, there's not a man - Can do a third that Paris can: - I scorn to speak but what is true; - The devil ought to have his due. - But sit you down, and rest a while, - You've had a mortal deal of toil, - Enough to make a man quite mad, - For me and my faint-hearted lad. - It can't be help'd, I know my doom, - And judge by past of what's to come. - Our woes will gain us future pity, - And fill some lamentable ditty, - Which hard-mouth'd raggamuffins will, - From Charing-Cross to Ludgate-Hill, - Roar with a voice as sweet and clear, - As Tyburn dying-speeches are. - - Hector replies: Another day - I'll chat awhile, but now can't stay, - Because our men are sore put to't, - And want my fist to help 'em out: - But I must beg you'll not be slack - To stroke your swain upon his back; - No wench can do unless she tries, - Your hand may make his--courage rise: - When that is done, dispatch him soon, - But do not take that courage down, - Nor stay him with your coaxing prate, - But let him meet me at the gate. - I go to see my son and wife, - The joy and comfort of my life: - For who can tell if Hector may - Have luck to box another day? - Some witch, that chooses to annoy him, - May guide a broomstaff to destroy him. - - He said no more, but turn'd about - To go and find his helpmate out. - When he came home she was not there, - Nor could he find her far or near. - She and her son, and maid, and all, - Were got upon an orchard-wall; - There saw the rabble bruise and cut, - Until it almost grip'd her gut: - Still she kept looking sharp about - To find her good-man Hector out, - Whilst he through twenty alleys stumbled - And all the while his gizzard grumbled; - Then sought the postern, with intent - To ask the guard which way she went. - Halloo, my lads, did any see - My loving wife Andromache? - Or did she land at Temple-stairs, - To join th' old women in their prayers? - Or, all this time that I have miss'd her, - Think you she's gone to see her sister? - - She's not at church, replies the sentry, - Clubbing her prayers with these old gentry - Nor is she gone to Priam's hall, - But stands, d'ye see, on yonder wall. - She heard how fast the Trojans ran, - And sweated for her own good-man. - I help'd her o'er this stile to get, - And felt her hands; they both were wet - As muck, and in a clammy sweat: - Her haste was such, that, I can say, - She trotted ev'ry inch o' th' way: - I'll answer for't, before she got - To th' wall, her bum was smoking hot: - And then, as fast as she could waddle, - The nurse did with the bantling straddle. - - To this bold Hector did not say - A single word, but walk'd away, - Not caring to lose time in prate, - And met his wife at Cripplegate. - His wife was always understood - To be what moderns call good blood; - Her mother had been lady mayoress, - And she herself a vast rich heiress. - Soon as she did her husband spy, - She gave a spring a quarter high; - The nurse then follow'd with the lad, - That scratch'd, and roar'd, and kick'd, like mad. - Great Hector often had been trying - To cure the cross-grain'd brat from crying; - But could not do't--so call'd his name - Scamandrius, from a running stream: - But thinking that queer name would gall him, - Astyanax the Trojans call him. - Hector was in his heart right glad - To see the sprawling scrambling lad; - But with a very doleful look - His partner seiz'd his fist and spoke, - Whilst you might see within her eye - The tears stood ready cock'd to cry: - - Why sure you cannot think, my life, - To leave your only son and wife? - How great, alas! must be my fall, - Should you get drubb'd for good and all! - I know, my duckling, though your laugh, - You're too courageous by half: - With single bullies you can pull, - But many dogs will beat a bull; - And ev'ry Grecian cur, I see, - Will strive to get a bite at thee. - If therefore my poor Hector must - Be drubb'd, and tumbled in the dust, - God send, before that woeful day, - That thy poor dearee safely may, - Rather than hear their gibes and scoffing, - Be nail'd up in a strong elm coffin! - Where is the man, if thou should'st fail, - Would buy thy wife a pot of ale? - I've neither father left nor mother; - Nor loving uncle, aunt, or brother. - At Thebes Achilles burnt us out, - And kill'd my fighting dad to boot: - But when he had the good man slain, - With pity he was overta'en, - Made a most mighty fuss and racket, - And burnt the body in its jacket; - Then rais'd a mountain o'er his bones, - Of mud and clay, and sand, and stones. - It happen'd where some fairies haunted, - And they the place with elm-trees planted. - At the same time seven loving brothers - This damn'd infernal rascal smothers; - Quite unawares the lads he snaps, - As they for mice were setting traps: - Then took my mother prisoner, - And sent her to the Lord knows where; - Though soon, because she was not handsome, - He let her go, but kept the ransom. - To her own house they'd hardly got her, - Before that brim, Diana, shot her: - But though I am of them bereft, - I'd snuff the moon if thou art left; - But if my bully-rock should fall, - They're lost again, not one, but all. - For sake of me and this brave boy, - Keep snug within the walls of Troy: - I'll tell thee where the whore's-birds make - Their strongest push the town to take; - Do but observe their ragged bands - All muster where yond' fig-tree stands; - There let thy trusty broomshaft fly, - And smite the scoundrels hip and thigh. - - Not that alone, the chief reply'd, - Shall be my care, there's more beside; - I've many sturdy jobs to do, - Which I shall buckle tightly to. - Should I hang back, you'd quickly see - The Trojans making game of me, - And madams, with their sweeping tails, - Seem much surpris'd what Hector ails. - Then, at the next tea-table lecture, - Cry, 'Bless us! what is come to Hector? - He us'd to maul these Grecian scrubs, - But now he's got the mullygrubs.' - When broils begin I never fail: - Fighting to me is cakes and ale. - At school I practis'd ev'ry day - Both quarter-staff and cudgel-play; - And I'll be first, you may depend, - Our beef and pudding to defend. - And yet that cursed day will come, - I know by th' pricking of my thumb, - When Troy shall tumble in a ruin - Of that damn'd brimstone Juno's brewing: - Though all my loving cousins dying - Won't set me half so soon a crying, - As what I inwardly foresee - Will happen to Andromache. - They'll make my rib a water-heaver, - Or put her 'prentice to a weaver; - And then, for fear so great a tumble - Should fail to make her gizzard grumble, - Some scoundrel Grecian, to deject her, - Will whisper, That's the wife of Hector; - As if they could not plague poor thee - Enough, without rememb'ring me. - But let them, if they plague thee long, - Once feel the rough side of thy tongue: - And if again they ever strive - To vex thee, I'll be flay'd alive! - All that I wish is, that I may - Be six foot under ground that day, - Where I shall neither, when I'm cold, - Hear my wife sigh, or cry, or scold. - - This said, the bully-back of Troy - Stretch'd out his arms to take the boy; - The lad hung back, and durst not touch - His brazen hat for e'er so much. - Pleas'd, he laid down his glitt'ring hat, - Which quieted the brawling brat; - Then lifts him high into the air, - And prays a special country prayer: - - O Jupiter! brimful of glory, - Who dwells in heaven's upper story, - Protect this lad, and grant that he - The wonder of the world may be; - And at the sport in which I prided - May break more heads than ever I did; - That when he lays his twenties flat, - And brings away the gold-lac'd hat, - The people all may say, This lad - At cudgel-playing beats his dad: - And when they shout and praise the boy. - The mam. bep---- herself for joy! - He spoke, and smiling look'd upon her, - Then laid the hopeful bantling on her. - She hugg'd him closely to her breast, - And sung him lullaby to rest: - Though fear possess'd her soul so strong, - She made a sort of crying song. - This Hector view'd with feeling eye, - (He hated much to see her cry) - And though he seem'd to look more grum for't, - He spoke these words to give her comfort: - - No man, unless it is his fate - To do't, can break thy Hector's pate; - And this be sure, no mortal man - Can live much longer than he can; - When raw-bon'd Death once takes the field, - He makes both mayors and sheriffs yield; - And in the devil's lock secures - Your reformation-rogues by scores, - For plaguing wretched helpless whores: - Then cease, my jewel, get you in - To knit, or darn, or stitch, or spin. - For me, it ever is my lot - To be where broken pates are got: - The man that's always first at eating, - Should be the first to risk a beating. - - This said, he takes his skullcap up, - With goose-quills shaded at the top: - Homeward his dearee ply'd her stumps, - And sat her down in doleful dumps; - Where, as she made her grievous moan, - The pigs return'd her grunt for groan, - And both the cook and chambermaid - Blubber'd as if their lord was dead. - - And now bold Paris sally'd out, - Prepar'd to take the other bout; - In a bright cap you see him tow'ring, - The same that Hector caught him scouring. - Thus when a Cheapside cockney's tit - From his long back has thrown the cit, - Well pleas'd to leave his leaden load, - He kicks and flings along the road, - Splashes foot people as he goes, - And daubs with mud their Sunday's clothes. - Just so brisk Paris skipp'd about. - Resolv'd to buckle tightly to't; - Then joining Hector's jobbernoul, - Away they trotted cheek-by-joul: - - When Paris first began to say, - Brother, you must excuse my stay, - I could not sooner get away. - I stay'd, if I the truth must tell ye, - To do a little job for Nelly, - Which hinder'd me 'bout half an hour: - It could not be a great deal more: - But the poor honest loving heart - With dry lips always hates to part; - I therefore think I'm bound in honour - To spend what I can spare upon her. - - Brother, says Hector, let what's past - Be quite forgot; you're come at last, - And that's enough. Thou art in blood - My brother, make that kinship good: - In broils let's second one another, - And then I'll own thee for a brother: - That you dare fight was never doubted, - Nor was your mettle e'er disputed; - But Troy makes such a cursed roaring - About your idleness and whoring, - That, did you hear each prating elf, - 'Twould make you almost hang yourself. - Some pains I'd therefore have you take; - They've box'd it stoutly for your sake: - 'Twould please me much to hear 'em telling - You sweat the Greeks as well as Helen, - And are prepar'd to storm a trench, - Or storm the quarters of a wench, - Just as it suits--Such men as these - Are sure all sorts of folks to please. - But cheer thee up; our toils shall cease - When Pitt's employ'd to make a peace: - Then Grecian rogues, with grief and shame, - Shall trundle back from whence they came. - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME, - - - [1] There is a story goes, that a lady of the first fashion, on her -wedding-night, got out of bed, and ran to her mother-in-law's room, -declaring she never was used so in her life; who answered, she hoped -not, but she must submit now to be used as she never was before. - - [2] Hecuba. - - - - - A - - BURLESQUE TRANSLATION - - OF - - HOMER - - IN TWO VOLUMES. - - <i>THE FOURTH EDITION IMPROVED.</i> - - VOL. II - - [Illustration] - - LONDON - - Printed for G.G. and J. Robinson, Paternoster-Row. - - 1797. - - - - <i>Dilucida et negligenter quoque audientibus aperta; ut in animum ratio - tanquam sol in oculos, etiamsi in eam non intendatur, occurrat. Quare, - non ut intelligere possit, sed ne omnino possit non intelligere, - curandum.</i> - - QUINTIL. - - - If you would make a speech, or write one, - Or get some artist to indite one, - Don't think, because 'tis understood - By men of sense, 'tis therefore good; - But let your words so well be plann'd, - That blockheads can't misunderstand, - - - - - - THE SEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - When Hector got upon the plain, - They fell to loggerheads again; - Pallas, afraid Greece would not stand, - Prepar'd to lend a helping hand: - Apollo saw her tie her garters, - And straight resolv'd to watch her waters; - On which he popp'd his body down, - And met her pretty near the town. - After a spell of small-talk prattle, - They both agree to cease the battle - For the remainder of that day, - But farther Homer doth not say. - Then Hector came and puff'd his cheeks, - And sorely frighten'd all the Greeks, - Told 'em he'd box that afternoon - Their boldest cock, for half a crown. - Which scar'd 'em so confoundedly, - That every mother's son let fly; - Though nine at least their names put in, - After they'd wip'd their breeches clean. - Nestor, who knew at any rate - Nothing but Ajax' knotty pate - Could stand his blows, contriv'd it so - That he should draw the longest straw; - On which these thick-skull'd champions fight - Till parted by one Mrs. Night. - Next, in a council, Troy's old pack - Of statesmen vote to send Nell back; - But Paris by his bullying cool'd 'em, - Or else by brib'ry over-rul'd 'em; - Then d----d his eyes if he would spare - Of all her stock one single hair - From any place that was about her, - But he would give the Greeks without her - All the hard cash she brought to Dover, - And double it five or six times over. - Priam a bellman sent to offer - The Greeks this advantageous proffer, - And beg a truce, to look about - And see who'd got their brains knock'd out. - The Greeks, though they were every bit - As poor as our great patriot P----, - When he began at first to slaver, - And stun the house with his palaver, - Yet, for a truth depend on't, I know - They all refus'd the ready rhino; - But readily agreed, they say, - To cease all fratching for a day. - After both sides their arms had grounded, - And gather'd up their sick and wounded, - Old Nestor did their bricklayers call up, - And made 'em build a good strong wall up; - At which old Neptune fell a-grumbling, - Till Jove, to stop his guts from rumbling, - Promis'd the wall should soon come tumbling. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD - - BOOK VII. - - - - Thus spake this Trojan heart of oak, - And thunder'd through the gate like smoke; - His brother Paris follow'd close, - Resolv'd to give the Greeks a dose. - As when poor sailors, tir'd with towing, - And all their fingers gall'd with rowing, - Keep growling hard, but when they find - Jove sends a favourable wind, - No more each two-legg'd bruin swears, - But lends the coming breeze three cheers: - Thus welcome are these roaring boys, - Both to the Dardan troops and Troy's; - And they who scarce the field could keep, - Now drive the Grecians, on a heap. - - Paris, to help to wipe his stains out, - Soon knock'd Menestheus's brains out; - Areithous, a mousetrap-maker, - Seduc'd a very pretty quaker - To let him one unlucky night - Extinguish all her inward light, - And get this boy; but though he thrash'd hard, - The urchin proved a graceless bastard. - - Then with a most confounded whack - Eioneus tumbled on his back; - An inch below his cap of steel, - A thump from Hector made him feel; - Much stronger necks could not resist - Such blows from Hector's mutton fist: - Down tumbled he upon the plain, - But never found his legs again. - - Next in the individual locus, - Iphinous was chanc'd by Glaucus: - The broomshaft's point his shoulder tore up - Just as he set his foot i' th' stirrup; - Which chang'd the intended motion soon - From rising up to tumbling down. - - Minerva's guts began to grumble, - To see her fav'rite Grecians tumble: - To earth she in a hurry popp'd, - And after her Apollo dropp'd; - Both lit upon the self-same stone, - Like Flockton's puppets, Punch and Joan, - And, ere they did their talk begin, - Stood for a minute chin to chin. - - Madam, says Phoebus, I'm your humble - And most obedient cum dumble; - By Vulcan's horns I vow and swear, - I little thought to find you here! - I hope before you took this frolic - You felt no symptoms of your cholic. - I heard, dear Ma'am, with all the knowledge - And wisdom that you lent the College, - A recipe they could not make - To cure your lay'ship's belly-ache: - But had the great-wigg'd varlets thought on - The famous drops of Doctor Stoughton, - That would have done't: they eas'd my tripes - When all on snicksnarls with the gripes; - And you'll experience, if you try, - They cure the gripes both wet and dry. - I therefore for the belly-ache - No other medicine will take, - Not even Ward's tremendous pill, - Nor sage prepar'd by Doctor Hill. - But, Ma'am, may I, without transgression. - Presume to ask a single question? - Did not your ladyship whip down, - Slily to crack some Trojan's crown? - I know the only sight you've fun in - Is when you see the Trojans running; - But hold your fist a spell, and soon - Their huts and barns shall tumble down; - For who can stand against the whims - Of two such d----d revengeful brims? - - When thus replies the scratching bitch: - Split me, if you ar'n't grown a witch! - I came for mischief here, and would - Have pummel'd Hector if I could; - But after what you've said, I now - Would part 'em, if you'd tell me how; - But they keep such confounded clatt'ring, - Whilst blood, and guts, and brains they're scatt'ring. - That Stentor with his brazen lungs, - Or Fame with all her hundred tongues, - One word amongst 'em cannot wedge, - Though set with e'er so sharp an edge. - Then how should I? for, without flatt'ring, - You know I ne'er was fam'd for chatt'ring. - - To her, when she had done her prate, - Replies the god with carrot pate. - I know a scheme will do the job, - If you'll consent to bear a bob. - That, says the fighting jade, I'll do, - Though it should prove a bob or two. - Then, says the god, do you begin - Directly now to put it in-- - Put what, ye hedgehog? says the jade. - Why, put it into Hector's head - To ride amongst the Grecian band - With an old backsword in his hand, - Then with a flourish challenge out - The boldest bruiser to a bout - At quarter-staff or cudgel play, - Or flats or sharps, or any way, - Till Greece, desirous to abase him, - Shall find some thick-skull'd knave to face him. - - They then shook hands, their faith to pledge, - Then squatted down behind a hedge. - The moment that they disappear'd, - Helenus, who their chat o'erheard, - The breast of valiant Hector fir'd, - By telling him he was inspir'd. - - Hector, says he, I dare defy - The crying prophet, Jeremy, - To tell more gospel truth than I: - That no more rogues to-day may drop, - Go you and all your shabroons stop; - Then challenge, though the Greeks should stare, - Their best backsword or cudgel-player. - Away, and do not stay to grumble, - For be assur'd in this day's rumble - The devil will not let you tumble. - - He said, and Hector rais'd his mop's - Long shaft, and all the Trojans stops: - On this the Grecian chief commands - His squabbling knaves to hold their hands. - - Apollo and the fighting lass - Chuckled to find their scheme take place; - Like owls in ivy-trees they sat, - To see which broke the other's pate. - The common rogues, as well they might, - Were glad to let their leaders fight: - 'Twould please you much to see how soon - The rabble threw their broomstaffs down, - Then, with a clumpish kind of sound, - Bang went their buttocks on the ground. - As when a darkness spreads the streets, - One drunkard with another meets, - They roll, and mighty pother keep, - Till both i' th' kennel fall asleep-- - Thus by degrees these sons of Mars's - Settle themselves upon their a---s, - When Hector, with a thund'ring speech, - Made half the Greeks bedaub their breech. - - Ye Grecian bulls, and Trojan bears, - Attend, and prick up all your ears; - Great Jove's resolved, to plague us all, - That broils shall rise, and stocks shall fall, - So orders war to rage anew, - Till you burn us, or we burn you: - Better to end it soon than late, - Or make a peace <i>inadequate</i>: - Therefore with both your ears attend; - 'Tis Hector counsels as a friend: - To hinder, ere the day-light closes, - More bloody pates and broken noses, - Find out a Broughton or a Slack, - That dares my knotty pate attack: - If I should fall in this dispute, - Or get my teeth or eyes knock'd out, - Without the least demur or racket, - O' god's name let him have my jacket, - And all my cash; my carcass though - Amongst my friends to Troy must go, - There to be burnt; and whilst 'tis frying - They'll make a concert up of crying: - But if, by Phoebus' aid, my thrust - Shall lay your Buckhurst in the dust, - I'll give his jacket to Apollo - For helping me to beat him hollow; - His batter'd carcass I will save, - For which his friends may dig a grave - On the sea-shore, and o'er his bones - Lay one of Carr's black marble stones, - Which when some honest tar shall see, - As he returns from smuggling tea, - Thus to himself poor Jack will cry - (Belching a soft Geneva sigh), - Here lies, beneath this stone so polish'd, - A Greek, by Hector's staff demolish'd; - The stone acquaints us with the deed; - I'd tell his name if I could read. - - This speech so scar'd the Grecian prigs, - They star'd about 'em like stuck pigs: - When Menelau, of all the throng, - First found his feet and then his tongue; - For, jumping up from off his breech, - He sputter'd out this furious speech: - - Ye men of Greece, why all this trimming - Nay hold, I mean ye Grecian women! - What shame! when half the world shall hear - Ye all bepiss'd yourselves for fear, - That Greece had not one bold protector - Durst face this bullying scrub, this Hector! - But I will fight him, you shall see, - Though he's as big again as me; - And by that time ye ev'ry one - May change, perhaps, from wood to stone. - - This speech of speeches being done, - He whipp'd his greasy buff-coat on; - Wrath fill'd him with a strong desire - To run his fingers into th' fire. - Had he the fate of battle try'd, - Hector had surely trimm'd his hide; - But all at once both old and young, - As if by wasps or hornets stung, - Start up with one consent to speak, - And stop this Bobadillian Greek; - Resolv'd they'd not indulge the cub in - His great desire to get a drubbing. - - Atrides claim'd first turn to speak, - Because he was the leading Greek. - He clench'd his fist, and thus began: - The devil, sure, is in the man; - Burn my old wig! but you're about - A scheme to get your brains knock'd out: - You've no more chance, I'll make't appear, - Than Jackson's mastiff with a bear: - Vex'd though thou art, and ought to be, - Hector's too big a whelp for thee; - Achilles' self, were not his clothes - So thick they keep him safe from blows, - Would think it far the lesser evil - To be oblig'd to box the devil - Stay where you are, or lie in bed, - We'll find a chief with thicker head; - Though pleas'd the stoutest on the lawn - Would be to have the battle drawn, - Should he this bully rock engage - On Broughton's, or on any stage. - - He spoke: and honest Menelau - Was glad at heart he need not go, - But kept his cheeks upon the puff, - Till they had lugg'd his doublet off: - When the old cock, with froth and slaver, - Began, as usual, his palaver: - - O sons of Greece, pray what's the matter, - That thus I hear your grinders chatter; - And every Greek and Trojan sees - Warm water running down your knees? - Greece shakes her nob to see how soon - One blust'ring Trojan runs you down. - Time was when Peleus heard, with joy, - How well ye drubb'd these rogues of Troy, - And thought he ne'er could hear enough, - How Jack could kick, and Ned could cuff: - But, Lord! how will th' old fellow fret - To find one Trojan makes ye sweat! - What grievous tears will he let fall, - And wish the d---l had ye all! - O! that the gods, to try my mettle, - Would boil me in Medea's kettle, - Then lend me health and strength in plenty, - Such as I had at five-and-twenty, - When I broke all th' Arcadian spears, - And made the scoundrels hang their ears! - One Ereuthelion, at that place, - Had bought a rusty iron mace. - O' th' mayor of Hedon, who had got - A new one giv'n him for his vote: - This mace Areithous did handle, - Just as I would a farthing candle; - With this he smash'd the boldest foe, - But scorn'd a broomshaft or a bow. - Yet one Lycurgus came, and soon - With his sharp broomstick fetch'd him down; - He met him in a narrow place, - Where he'd no room to swing his mace, - On which, without delay, he puts out - His broomshaft's point, and pricks his guts out. - Down tumbled he in rueful case; - Which the conqu'ror seiz'd his mace: - But growing blind, this fighting tup - Thought it was best to give it up - To Ereuthelion, who would break - Above a hundred pates a week. - This he for several weeks had done, - Which made our trainbands sweat and run; - All ran but me, I scorn'd to flinch; - Though youngest, would not budge an inch. - This man I fought, this son of Mars, - And fetch'd him such a kick o' th' a-- - That down he dropp'd; but, when he fell, - I know you'll stare at what I tell, - But I'll make oath 'fore justice Baker, - He fairly cover'd half an acre. - Were I just now but half as strong; - Hector should not stand hect'ring long. - But you that are young men in vigour, - All join to cut a special figure! - If you daren't fight the man, e'en say; - Don't trembling stand, like stags at bay, - But trust your heels and run away, - If you can't keep your breeches dry, - You'd better, as you run, let fly; - Unless you fancy Hector may, - Should you in such condition stay, - First stop his nose, then run away. - - This drolling speech o' th' queer old wight - Made 'em all scratch where't did not bite; - So eager now they grew to smite him, - That nine jump'd up at once to fight him. - Great Agamemnon swore' and curs'd, - And damn'd his eyes but he'd be first; - At which bold Diomede was vex'd, - But swore by Pallas he'd be next: - Ajax, who seldom spoke a word, - Roars out, By Jove, I'll be the third! - 'Cause Agamemnon swore in passion, - Ajax thought swearing was the fashion. - The bold Oileus too was there, - Who swore by G-d he would not swear, - Ajax, says he, is third, don't part us, - But put my name in <i>locus quartus</i>. - Idomeneus, though not so swift - As brave Oileus, came in fifth. - Then on Euripylus they fix, - And mark his back with number six; - Merion thought it no disgrace - To come and take the seventh place. - Bold Thoas was a man of weight, - So him they put in number eight. - Ulysses saw, by what was done, - He must at all events make one; - Look'd fierce to hide his inward fear, - And boldly came to close the rear. - The motion felt at first for sh----g - Was strangely chang'd to one for fighting. - - When Nestor found his speech succeed, - He spoke again: My boys, take heed! - You'd like to've quarrel'd who should run: - And now each wishes he'd begun first: - But, to prevent all future diff'rence - About our giving one the pref'rence, - I'd have you take the good advice - Of Sancho's[1] lawyer--box and dice; - And it shall be his lot to go, - That trundles out the highest throw; - Whoe'er he be, the valiant buck - Will think himself in hellish[2] luck. - - He spoke, and then his case unlocks, - And out he lugs both dice and box. - The bullies then begin to pray, - But, on my soul, 'tis hard to say, - Whether to lose or win the day: - But to the bully Ajax all, - In secret, wish'd the lot might fall. - Nestor their meaning understood, - And tipp'd 'em all the wink it shou'd. - - [Illustration: Book VII, page 25. - Then Ajax grasps his clumsy fist - And gives the box a devilish twist-- - Out pop the dice--cries Nestor; Seven - 'S the main; a nick, by Jove, eleven.] - - Atrides then his elbows shak'd - Though inwardly his gizzard quak'd: - But soon he was reliev'd this bout, - For Nestor cries, Aums ace, you're out: - Then Ajax grasps his clumsy fist, - And gives the box a dev'lish twist-- - Out pops the dice, cries Nestor--Seven - 'S the main; a nick, by Jove, eleven. - Another throw then Ajax tries: - Eight is the main, old Nestor cries; - Resolv'd his jobbernoul to cozen, - Roars out, Another nick, a dozen! - And so it might, I swear and vow, - For aught that honest Ajax knew, - Who took on trust whate'er was done, - So whipp'd his fighting-jacket on, - Whilst all the rest could hardly help - From laughing at the thick-skull'd whelp. - - O warriors! cries this, head of cod, - I'll smoke great Hector's hide, by G-d! - But lend me first each man a prayer, - So low the Trojans may not hear: - But let 'em hear; on recollection, - To pray is no such great reflection: - No mortal scrub on earth dare say - That I'm afraid because I pray. - In days of old, though 'twas but rare. - Men bold as me have said a pray'r; - Cromwell himself, I've heard folks say, - Like any popish saint could pray; - And yet, when people were not civil, - Could swear and bully like a devil. - Then bring the man alive or dead, - That valiant Ajax ought to dread: - Not Warwick's earl, that kicking cub, - Whose arm could whirl so thick a club, - That all our grannies tell us how - He kill'd a whacking great dun cow-- - Was he alive, I make no doubt - To kill him, and his cow to-boot. - In Salamis my mother bore me, - And bid me kick the world before me. - - No more he said, but on the stones - Dropp'd down upon his marrow-bones, - Held up his hands, and then began - To say his lesson like a man; - His comrades too perform their parts, - And club their prayers with all their hearts; - But, like the Jews, the varlets made - D----'d ugly faces[3] whilst they pray'd: - O father Jove! whose greatest pride-a - Is whoring on the mount of Ida! - Now grant that honest Ajax may - Give the first broken head to-day: - But, if thou guard'st those Trojan cattle, - Then grant it may be a drawn battle, - That, like the German and the Gaul, - Both sides may sing, and roar, and bawl - Te Deum, though for nought at all, - And tell their God a cursed lie; - That both have got the victory. - - Now Ajax, 'cause the coat he put on - Was left without a single button, - To keep it tight, he ty'd it fast - With a rope's end about his waist, - Then like a Spaniard struts, who prides - To show his wrath in mighty strides. - Great joy ran through the Grecian bands, - Though his hands shak'd like drunken Rand's: - And, whilst he was the Trojan eyeing, - He grinn'd to keep himself from crying. - The Greeks were humm'd, and Troy, besides, - Was scar'd to see him take such strides. - Hector himself was wond'ring that - His mighty heart went pit-a-pat; - Though now there was no time to take, - But he must brew as well as bake. - Ajax behind his shield did keep, - But ventur'd now and then to peep; - A dev'lish thumping shield it was, - 'Twould load an English ox or ass; - Look Scotland through till you are blind, - So large a targe you'll hardly find: - Seven good tup-skins as can be seen, - Cover'd a greasy kitchen-screen. - The roast-meat side of which, we find, - With old tin cannisters was lin'd: - One Tychius, who dwelt in Hyle, - Where Yorkshire shoes are made most vilely, - Finish'd this shield, and made it neat, - By sawing off two clumsy feet: - This potlid Ajax held before - His guts, and then began to roar: - - Hector, come here, you whelp, and try - Who cudgels best, or you or I. - Achilles dare not come--who cares? - You see as good a man that dares; - Let him sit sulky, if he will; - His place great Ajax' self dares fill: - Bold hearts like me we have good store; - There's three, I'm certain, if not four, - That any hour o' th' day are willing - To box for sixpence or a shilling; - Nay, some for half a crown will try, - When cash and courage both run high: - So, let me lose the day or win it, - Here I stand ready to begin it. - - Hector replies, Great son of Tel, - You seem to scold it pretty well; - But, sure, you think the rock of Troy - Some chuckle-headed booby boy, - Just parted from a country school, - And therefore dares not face an owl; - But I will face you, you shall see, - Though you were in an ivy-tree. - And look'd as fierce before you spoke, - As Charley in the royal oak: - I dare, for th' honour of our house, - Say boh! to any Grecian goose. - Your broomshaft strokes with ease I'll cut off. - And all Broughtonian thumps can put off; - But as I value not a f--t - Your puffs, I shan't make use of art; - By downright strength I'll try my fate, - And scorn to steal a broken pate. - - At this his quarter-staff he rears, - And laid about the Grecian's ears: - His nob he gave a swingeing knock, - But might as well have hit a rock. - Ajax then drove at Hector's crown, - Who flinch'd, or else he'd knock'd him down; - So vastly furious was the stroke, - Both quarter-staves to pieces broke. - The cudgels next the bullies try, - And baste each other hip and thigh; - Fierce as two squabbling lawyers prate, - Or two fish-wives at Billingsgate, - And seem'd to be a special match, - Till Hector got a little scratch. - His wrath to see his blood run down - Made him let fly a thumping stone, - Which hit his pate, and off did pass - As if his noddle had been brass. - But Ajax threw with such a shock - A craggy ragged piece of rock, - And aim'd the stone so well, that he - Almost demolish'd Hector's knee. - Hector was glad to lean upon - His potlid, else he'd tumbled down: - But Sol, who always did attend him, - Brought him a dram of rum to mend him. - Andrew Ferrara's next the word, - For each had got a highland sword, - Which when they flourish'd in the air, - The glitt'ring blades made people stare. - Just as they met in guise uncivil, - Like great St. Michael and the devil, - With fell intent to cut and slash, - And of their bodies make a hash, - The wary seconds both popp'd out, - And put an end to this tough bout. - Talthybius did the Greek attend; - Idaeus was great Hector's friend; - (Both constables and cunning knaves) - Betwixt the swords they thrust their staves. - Idaeus first began to speak, - For he had learnt a little Greek: - - Forbear, my buffs, your farther fray, - Jove says ye fight no more to-day; - No more of bus'ness can be done - To-day, because the day is gone. - - Ajax was now grown cock-a-hoop, - Because he could with Hector cope; - Pray, Sir, says he, to Hector speak: - He challeng'd forth the boldest Greek. - If he should say 'tis time to part, - I'll give it up with all my heart; - But he, you both must own, begun first, - And therefore ought, I think, t'have done first. - - Then Hector speaks: Great Sir, you're right; - And, if you dare but trust your sight, - By looking sharp you'll see 'tis night: - And you and all the people know, - To box at night's against the law: - For want of light, we by surprise - Might knock out one another's eyes; - And e'en just now, so dark it grows, - I scarce can see your copper nose: - So let's decide some other day - Who's the best man at cudgel-play: - Your great escape the Greeks will tell of, - They'll jump to find you're come so well off; - And all the good old wives in Troy - At my escape will jump for joy. - But let us make, this glorious day, - Some sort of swap, that folks may say, - These souls were neither Whig nor Tory, - But battled for their country's glory. - - With that a sword he gave, whose hilt - Was made of brass, but double gilt: - This gift did Ajax' stomach melt - So much, he gave his greasy belt: - Then with a Spanish air those twain - Majestic strutted home again. - - [Illustration: Book VII, page 37. - In this queer trim the Grecians bring - The puff'd-up hero to the king, - Who, far from thinking 'twas a man, - Thought they had drest a sack of bran - In Ajax' clothes,--] - - Hector, at his return to Troy, - Did really make 'em jump for joy: - They star'd, but yet the better half - Came up to feel if he was safe. - Poor Ajax was swell'd up and puff'd, - Like a black-pudding over-stuff'd. - In this queer trim the Grecians bring - The puff'd-up hero to the king, - Who, far from thinking 'twas a man, - Thought they had dress'd a sack of bran - In Ajax' clothes; but, being fully - Convinc'd it was the very bully - That could with valiant Hector box, - He bid the butcher kill an ox. - That you mayn't think the gen'ral boasted, - A fine Scotch runt was kill'd and roasted: - Great Agamemnon laid the cloth, - Then boil'd the neck and shanks for broth. - When all was cook'd, the king took care - To deal each hungry knave his share: - But valiant Ajax for his supper - Ate the sirloin and half the crupper; - By which you'll think, and think aright, - The man could eat as well as fight. - When they had stuff'd their bellies full, - And drunk each man a hearty pull, - Nestor begins, who never long - Was known to hold his noisy tongue: - - It grieves my very guts to say - That this has been a dismal day, - But faith it was: upon the shore - A dozen hearty cocks, or more, - Were on their backs by Hector laid, - And half of them half-knock'd o' th' head. - Whilst we are drown'd in grief and sorrow, - How can we think to box to-morrow? - A little time should sure be found - To get our dead men under ground; - Which if we don't, I know full well - They'll quickly make a cursed smell: - To Hector's drubs we need not yield, - Our friends will stink us off the field. - When we have got them under ground, - Both rotten carcasses and sound, - Each man shall have a handsome stone - For babes to cry or piss upon: - Next we will all our bricklay'rs call up - To dig a ditch and build a wall up, - To save our huts, and boats, and lighters, - From those damn'd copper-nos'd sheep-biters; - Then make strong gates, that, if the rout - Should come too near, we'll bolt 'em out; - Next on the walls build towers, and prop 'em; - The devil's in't, if that don't stop 'em: - Then if the foe comes helter skelter, - We all know where to run for shelter: - For want of this, if they should beat us, - They burn our boats, and roast and eat us. - - Thus spake this queer old Grecian wight, - And all the captains thought him right. - In the mean time the Trojan peers - Were met, and almost got by th' ears: - Though their hearts ach'd, this crew so factious - Could not refrain from being fractious: - All order they despis'd, or summons, - Just like an English house of -------. - At last the grave Antenor rose, - And strove their diff'rence to compose. - - What I shall utter is no merit, - 'Tis inspiration of the spirit, - Says 'this old cuff: Restore but Helen, - And we our houses safe may dwell in; - Let Helen and her money go - To Sparta or to Strumbello, - With all belongs her head or tail; - Don't keep the paring of a nail. - If Paris hath not got enough - Of trimming her bewitching buff, - But longs to switch the gipsy still, - You'll own with me he never will; - Then must be forc'd--and so I vote - To do the very thing he ought: - We broke the truce, the Grecians felt us, - And Jupiter, by G-d, will pelt us; - Then let us quickly stir about, - And do't before you're forc'd to do't. - - Th' old Trojan spoke, and down he sat, - When Paris rose and twirl'd his hat; - Smelt at his box, perfum'd with musk, - Then hem'd, and look'd as fierce as H--k: - You say your speech must claim no merit, - 'Tis inspiration of the spirit; - But, if the matter I can handle, - A canting quaker's farthing candle, - Twinkling within him, gives more light - Than this of yours that burns so bright. - When young perhaps you might be wise; - Wisdom decays as well as eyes: - You think that I have had enough - Of trimming Helen's heav'nly buff. - The thought is mighty well for you, - For whom three times a year might do; - But Helen ne'er shall quit my hand, - So long as I can go or stand. - As for the money that she brought - From Greece, I scorn to touch a groat; - It lies, with his tobacco-stopper - (Five pounds in silver, three in copper), - In an old trunk, with some old gear - I never yet would let her wear. - Let Menelaus touch the pelf, - I only want to touch herself. - Besides, I'll pay him for the touch, - And give him twenty times as much - From my own stock as she brought with her, - When first she came from Sparta hither: - But ere she goes, by holy Paul! - I'll see the devil fetch ye all. - - Priam, who fear'd by all this rout - His trusty Trojans might fall out, - Rose up to speak; the crew so vi'lent - Had the good manners to be silent; - On which th' old Trojan bow'd to each, - Then hem'd, and made this king-like speech: - Ye hearts of oak, that round me sit, - What think ye if we pick a bit? - I saw the cook-maid, Mary, put on - The spit a thumping loin of mutton, - Above an hour and half ago; - It must be ready now, I know. - When we have pick'd the bones and tail, - And each man drunk a gill of ale, - We'll guard the walls, and all the night - Look sharp to keep our matters right: - A bellman in the morn shall mention. - To the Greek captain our intention; - And add, 'twill suit us to a tittle, - If both sides take their breath a little, - That those who on the ground are laid - May come and tell us if they're dead; - If they're alive, we can assure them, - Our quacks will either kill or cure 'em; - Then, if they please, with might and main - We'll buckle to't, and box again. - - Soon as the Trojan long had said, - Each captain seiz'd a piece of bread; - But could not stay to pick a bit, - So whipp'd a slice from off the spit; - Then pocketing both bread and roast, - Ran off to eat it at their post. - Before the sun brush'd up his lamp, - Idaeus went to th' Grecian camp: - He found the chief, his friends, and brother, - Looking as wise at one another - As justices, when on the bench - They try some poor unlucky wrench, - And make the jade at Bridewell yelp - For breeding brats without their help: - The bellman tinkled first his bell, - And then began his tale to tell:-- - - Ye Grecian constables, I pray - Lend all your ears to what I say; - And from my soul I wish, to ease ye, - That ev'ry word I speak may please ye: - I wish our rogue and your d----d whore - Had both been drowned long before - This hubble bubble they had coin'd, - By getting both their giblets join'd! - I wish the brimstone's pepper'd tail - Was in the belly of that whale - That swallow'd Jonah, though the Jew - Had such rank flesh, he made him spew; - And I'm afraid this self-same whale, - After he'd swallow'd Nelly's tail, - Though plaguy salt, would find it stale; - Therefore, like Jonah, on the main - Would come to spew her up again; - And then some luckless country will - Be plagu'd with her grimalkin still. - But for all this, I'm bid to tell ye, - That Paris will not part with Nelly; - He finds her flesh so very sweet, - He swears he'll touch no other meat; - But says he'll give you ev'ry piece - Of money that she brought from Greece: - And, if he can but peace restore, - Will double it ten times o'er and o'er; - But swears the wench sha'n't quit his hand, - So long as he can go or stand. - Next I'm to say 'twill suit us well - To rest our weary limbs a spell, - That those who lie in honour's bed, - Whether knock'd down or knock'd o' th' head, - May be sought out, and, when they're found, - Be decently put under ground; - And then with all our might and main, - If so ye like, we'll box again: - But who shall drub the other well, - The Lord above can only tell. - - The Grecian chiefs, by what appears, - Both cock'd their mouths and prick'd their ears; - But, like a modern bill in chancer', - They took some time to give an answer. - This did Tydides so provoke, - He jump'd upon his legs and spoke: - - Zooks! you would make a parson swear, - To see ye all thus gape and stare! - What signifies their money now, - Though they would send the brimstone too? - You see their wooden towers are shaken, - Then what the pox can save their bacon? - Let us but kick 'em out of doors, - And the same men that shook their towers - Shall shake their daughters, wives, and whores. - The Grecians shout their approbation - Of this laconic bold oration. - Atrides then the peace rejects, - But sends to Priam his respects: - - You hear, good Sir, the shouts of Greece - Are, to a man, against this peace. - As much as you all broils we hate, - But think the peace <i>inadequate</i>: - Yet, though we can't agree to peace, - I really think club-law should cease, - That we may both sides look about, - And try to find our dead men out. - When yours are found, pray don't you think - That they are dead because they stink; - For ours, that liv'd to run away, - Stunk most confoundedly to-day; - Therefore take care you turn and turn 'em, - And shake 'em well before you burn 'em:I - speak lest groundless fears should curb ye, - For blast my eyes if we'll disturb ye! - - He then, to show he meant 'em fair, - Flourish'd his broomshaft in the air. - On this the crier trots away - To Troy, to tell 'em what they say. - The Trojan boys were got together, - Like flocks of birds in frosty weather: - Thus gather'd on a heap he caught 'em, - Waiting to hear what news he brought 'em. - Finding there was no time to spare, - He hem'd, to make his throttle clear: - They instant leave him room to enter, - And place him in the very centre; - From whence he with a crier's voice - (Where words are mostly drown'd in noise) - His speech deliver'd full as clear - As any crier you shall hear: - - The Grecian captains, from their tents, - To Priam send their compliments; - And, though they can't consent to peace, - They all desire club-law should cease: - 'Cause then both parties might, they said, - See if their dead men were all dead. - - The Trojans, upon this, thought good, - To buy some loads of billet wood; - But to the Greeks no man would sell it: - On which they thought 'twas best to fell it - Without the lord o' th' manor's leave; - So instantly began to cleave. - But I can tell 'em, had they then - Been caught by justice F--d--g's men, - Those true-bred hounds would never drop 'em, - Till they had seen his worship shop 'em. - - The sun had wash'd his fiery face, - And greas'd his wheels to run his race, - When Greeks and Trojans look'd about - To find who'd got their brains knock'd out; - But neither side had time to weep, - Till all were gather'd on a heap. - The Trojans then to burning fall, - And made one crying serve 'em all. - The Grecians thought th' example good, - So out they lugg'd their stolen wood: - Then laid the bodies in their places, - And fell to making d---d wry faces. - When they were burnt as black as coal, - One lousy tombstone serv'd 'em all. - - This done, with might and main they fall - To dig a ditch, and build a wall; - For Nestor, who had still some cunning, - Guess'd, when the rascals took to running, - This wall might stop the Trojan fighters - From burning their old rotten lighters. - Upon the wall these Grecian powers - Erected what themselves call'd towers: - But in these days our modern doxies - Would call them hobbling watchmen's boxes. - Some baker's billets next they took, - The sharpen'd points did outward look, - The blunt end stuck in earth; and these - The Grecians call chevaux de frise. - - But whilst they thus their labour kept on, - They rather discomfrontled Neptune. - As near to surly Jove he sat, - Brother, says he, I'll tell you what; - If Greece should finish yon mud wall, - And those I built for Troy should fall, - This wall will be remember'd longer - Than those I built, though so much stronger. - This, by my soul, I shall not like!-- - Ha' done, says Jove, thou wrangling tike! - Thou admiral of the sea, and let - A mortal work thy gullet fret? - I love that much; but cease to grumble, - These walls of mud shall quickly tumble. - No bantling that's unborn shall view - A stick of what they're doing now. - Thy waves shall sap the bottom soon, - Or drunken cits shall piss 'em down, - When, in a flaming one-horse chair, - They come to take the country air; - Where a round dozen pipes they funk, - And then return to town dead drunk. - - Whilst thus they fratch'd, the Greeks were getting - Just finish'd, as the sun was setting; - And then the hungry sons of whores - Butcher'd their bulls and cows by scores; - The fat sirloins on spits they put, - But smoke their gods with tripe and gut. - Just as they clapp'd 'em on their crupper - To eat this great uncommon supper, - They spy'd a lighter under sail, - Loaded with beer and Burton ale, - Which came i' th' nick to cheer their souls, - And fill their empty skins and bowls. - Eunaeus did the ale procure, - For he was only small-beer brewer; - A cask of both sorts did he send - A present for the king his friend; - The rest the Grecian captains bought, - To pay for which our author thought - Some pawn'd a shirt, and some a coat. - In feasting all their cares were sunk, - And ev'ry noble chief got drunk; - But they had made a woeful blunder, - For Jove they pinch'd, who growl'd like thunder; - Which scar'd the drunken rogues so sore, - They spill'd their liquor on the floor; - And, in the midst of all their airs, - Forgot their oaths to say their pray'rs, - And beg such coil he would not keep, - But let the maudlin knaves go sleep. - - - - [1] Cervantes tells us; if I remember right, that Sancho Pancho, after -hearing the cause on both sides with wonderful attention, and taking a -little time to digest the learned arguments on both sides, pulled out -his box and dice to decide the matter, and the highest throw won the -cause; which gave great content. If our j-dg-s would but follow his -example, it would prevent their being so often interrupted in their nap, -as they need be disturbed but once in a cause. - - [2] Whether Nestor means good or bad luck by the word <i>hellish</i>, we must -refer to the bucks of this age, because by them this word is used -indifferently for both good and bad. - - [3] Our author says, that going one evening into the Jews' synagogue, he -observed the most devout of them making confounded ugly faces. What -reason they have for striving to put on worse phizzes than God has given -them, he cannot tell. - - - - - THE EIGHTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Jove calls his under-strappers round him, - And in a dev'lish rage they found him. - Says he, I bade ye hither come, - To charge ye all to stay at home; - Go play at put, or loo, or brag, - But don't a single finger wag - To help yond' rascals that are fratching, - And, monkey-like, each other scratching. - Whoe'er offends, observe me well, - I'll broil the scoundrel's ears in hell. - Yet did that scratching, kicking brim, - The jade Minerva, wheedle him, - In spite of this hot blust'ring fit, - To let her help the Greeks a bit - With good advice, lest they should fall - To running off for good and all. - No sooner had the mortal varlets - Begun to squabble 'bout their harlots, - Bumping each others' guts and sides, - When Jove away to Ida rides: - There borrowing C---x the grocer's scales, - He weighs:--the Trojan luck prevails: - On which, with thunder, hail, and rain, - He smok'd the Grecians off the plain. - Old Nestor only chose to stay, - Because he could not run away; - But Diomede soon brought him help, - And sav'd this queer old chatt'ring whelp. - Then Juno, ever restless, seeks - To make old Neptune help her Greeks: - Neptune, who knew the wheedling witch, - Answers her bluntly, No, you bitch! - Teucer comes next, his art to show; - He shot a special good long bow: - But Hector stops the knave's career, - And sent him with a flea in's ear. - Pallas and Juno steal away - To help the Grecians in the fray: - But quickly Iris made 'em pack - To heaven in a hurry back. - Now whilst they sweat, the goddess Night - Jump'd up to part the bloody fight, - Although, ere she could part 'em all, - The Greeks were drove behind their wall. - The Trojans burn good fires all night, - For fear the Grecians in their fright - Should think it proper, ere 'twas day, - To launch their boats and run away. - - - [Illustration: Book VIII, page 61. - And whilst he to the supple gang, - Like Harry, made a short harangue. - They ey'd him all with fearful look, - And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke.] - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK VIII. - - - - Aurora was the skies adorning, - Or, in plain English, it was morning, - When crusty Jove, who never tarried - Long in his bed, for he was married, - Call'd all his counsellors of state - Some weighty matters to debate; - And whilst he to the supple gang, - Like Harry[1], made a short harangue, - They ey'd him all with fearful look, - And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke. - - Ye sniv'ling rogues with hanging looks, - Ye cringing barons, earls, and dukes, - Good heed to what I utter take ye, - Or, by the living G-d, I'll make ye: - Don't think, ye whelps, that ye shall find - Me fool enough to change my mind - For aught that you, or you, or you, - Or any whore or rogue can do. - Therefore, if any meddling knave - Attempts a single soul to save, - Or lends his help to either side, - Flux me if I don't tan his hide! - He shall receive from some strong tar - Three dozen at the capstan bar; - Or, in my furious wrath, pell-mell, - I'll kick the scoundrel down to hell; - To red-hot brazen doors I'll hook him, - And like a rat with brimstone smoke him. - Join all together, if ye will, - And try your utmost strength and skill; - As easily I can ye souse - As nitty tailors crack a louse. - But if you choose with me to cope, - I'll let you down this good new rope; - Hang at one end both great and small, - And add to that Westminster-Hall, - Judges and lawyers all together: - This hand can lift 'em like a feather; - Though in that place I know 'tis said - There's many a solid heavy head. - - 'Twas thus the moody Thund'rer spoke - And all the crew like aspin shook. - Yet, for all this, that cunning jade, - His bastard by a chamber-maid - (Although, to hum his wife, he said - She jump'd one morning from his head), - Maugre his blust'ring and his strutting, - Ventur'd a word or two to put in. - Says Pallas, I am sure they are - Confounded stupid dogs that dare - Oppose your worship's will; such blocks - Ought to be flogg'd, or set i' th' stocks; - But don't be angry if I stickle - To help the Greeks in this sad pickle. - And though you'll lend us some hard knocks, - If we on either side should box, - Yet let Minerva's counsel, pray, - Advise 'em when to run away; - Else they may gaze and stare about - Till they get all their teeth knock'd out. - - Old Square-toes smil'd, and told the jade, - She need not be so much afraid; - For though he knew it did her good - To move and circulate her blood, - And therefore now-and-then might stir her, - Yet he'd a mighty kindness for her, - As ev'ry bastard-getting knave - That's married, for their bastards have, - More than for children got in strife - Upon their lawful scolding wife: - Then bid his nags, with hoofs of brass, - And sorrel manes, be fetch'd from grass. - These tits, one Friday afternoon, - Jove purchas'd of a Yorkshire loon - In Smithfield, with great care, and yet - Got most abominably bit; - - Neither of those he laid his hand on - Had got a single foot to stand on. - - [Illustration: Book VIII, page 65. - These tits, one Friday afternoon, - Jove purchas'd of a Yorkshire loon - In Smithfield, with great care, and yet - Got most abominably bit.--] - - When Vulcan saw his dad was bit, - He on a rare expedient hit, - And a most noble scheme it was, - To case their founder'd hoofs in brass: - Had he not found this way to do't, - Old Rumbler might have walk'd on foot, - As he had got no cash to spare - To go and buy another pair. - Soon as the geldings did approach, - He yok'd 'em to a flaming coach, - Which Vulcan made that very year-- - The first was built for our lord mayor-- - From which the god took his design, - And made it clumsy, strong, and fine. - Jove with a hackney-coachman's whip - Soon made his batter'd geldings skip: - Whilst down the hill like smoke they run, - The god had plac'd himself upon - A three-legg'd stool they call'd a throne, - Nor did his godship stay or stop - Till he arriv'd on Ida's top. - There he forsook his coach, to trudge it - On foot; but first from out the budget - He pull'd some hay, with which he feasts - His tits--Good coachmen mind their beasts: - Then turning, and about him looking, - He saw two priests his dinner cooking; - On which, a little time to kill, - He sat him down o' th' top o' th hill; - But first he fix'd o' th' edge o' th' slope - Hooper's reflecting telescope, - By which he saw, when pointed down, - All their rogue's tricks within the town; - And turning it the least aside, - Their roguery in the boats espy'd; - And found that both in boats and tow'rs - The men were rogues and women whores. - And now the Greeks made wond'rous haste - To get their staves, and break their fast; - They thought, to spit their malice fasting - Would look like rancour everlasting, - So never fail'd before a fight, - Of something good to take a bite: - A special shift they oft would make - With two full pounds of Havre-cake; - But did not, as our trainbands do, - Provide a bit for dinner too; - And pocket store of hard-boil'd eggs, - With penny rolls and chicken legs. - The Trojans too, with nettle-porridge, - Had warm'd their stomachs and their courage - And cautiously great care had taken - To line their guts with eggs and bacon. - The gates once open, out they rattle, - And men and horses smoke to battle; - Spread o'er the plain, and fill the roads - With fighting fellows by cart-loads: - To work they fall like angry bulls, - And cudgels clash 'gainst empty skulls; - In streams the blood and snivel flows - From many a Grecian's snotty nose, - And many a trusty Trojan's too; - In such great show'rs the broomsticks flew. - A woeful lamentation spreads, - From batter'd ribs and broken heads; - And though this fray began so soon, - It lasted all the morn till noon: - But when the mid-day sun prevails, - Jove borrows Cox[2] the grocer's scales; - With steady hand th' old whoring boy - Balanc'd the fate of Greece and Troy. - This day the Grecian fortune fails. - Though weigh'd by these impartial scales; - Then instantly Jove's thunder roars, - And all their ale and porter sours; - Idomenaeus would not stay, - And both Ajaces ran away: - Poor Agamemnon, parch'd with thirst, - Ran, though he did not run the first; - But sure the boldest hearts must sink - When they have nothing fit to drink: - Old Nestor only chose to stay, - Because he could not run away; - Paris had with resistless force - Ham-string'd his best flea-bitten horse; - Old Nestor fumbled at the braces, - And cut the ropes that serv'd for traces: - This the old Grecian scarce had done, - When Hector furiously came on, - And ten to one had been so civil - As send his square-toes to the devil; - But Diomede, who was no stranger - To Hector, saw th' old fellow's danger; - Forward he sprung, and call'd upon - Ulysses, who like wildfire run: - - Pr'ythee, Ulysses, don't you fly - Amongst that mongrel heartless fry, - For fear some Trojan thief should crack - Your paper skull behind your back: - Nestor's in danger, stop and meet us, - Or Hector gives him his quietus. - Ulysses, when he heard that Nestor - Was in a scrape, ran ten times faster; - O'er the deep sand flew helter skelter, - And leap'd on board his boat for shelter: - Nor did the honest statesman grieve, - His brother in the lurch to leave; - But Diomede, though he was gone, - Ventur'd to help th' old cock alone. - From off his cart a jump he took, - Then stopp'd his horses whilst he spoke: - - Old Buff, says he, you well may gape, - You're got into a cursed scrape. - This furious whelp, this Hector, surely - May smash your rotten bones securely. - Thy horses are but slow and poor, - Can't trot a mile in half an hour: - Then haste, old boy, and mount my cart; - I value Hector not a f--t: - Do you but guide the horses right, - And if it comes to blows I'll fight: - Mind but my nags, they'll run, by Mars, - As if the de'il was at their a--e: - One misty day, when none could see us, - We stole these horses from AEneas: - Then leave thy shabby tits, don't mind 'em, - Some of our straggling crew will find 'em: - With these we'll let the Trojan meet us; - We can but run, if he should beat us. - - Old Nestor chuckled at his heart, - To find his friend had brought his cart; - Quickly, without or stay or stop, - He made a shift to tumble up: - His own old yawds[3], so lank and bare, - He left to two skip-kennels' care; - And care no doubt the backward ways - They took, as skips do now-a-days. - Old Nestor drove, for he was carter, - Full speed to meet this Trojan tartar. - Tydides aim'd at Hector's crown; - It miss'd, but brought his coachman down. - Hector no nearer could approach, - For want of one to drive his coach; - So whipp'd behind, and for a stiver - He quickly hir'd another driver: - One Archeptolemus arose, - A coachman with a fine red nose; - But Hector had no time to stay, - So hir'd the rascal for the day. - And now this Diomede would soon - Have made the conqu'ring Trojans run - Like sheep before the Spanish Don[4], - But Jove again began to growl, - And thunder'd from his mustard-bowl[5]. - Lightning so near the Greek did pass, - It sing'd his nose, and burnt the grass. - The frighten'd nags began to prance, - And Nestor dropp'd into a trance, - But soon recover'd, and begun - To chatter: Zoons! says he, let's run; - To-day the thunder-clap director - Swears he will fight for none but Hector, - So let's jog off; perhaps he may - Take Nestor's part another day: - But, spite of all our labour, still - You know he will do what he will. - - Says Diomede: Old Grizzle-beard, - I suck in ev'ry word I've heard. - But what the pox will Hector say, - If bold Tydides runs away? - Rot me! before it shall be said - I ran for't, he shall break my head. - - Nestor replies: O sad! O sad! - The man is surely drunk or mad! - Why, what the plague can Hector say? - He never made you run away: - That whelp is sensible enough, - You've dusted many a Trojan's buff; - But the most wicked sons of plunder - With lightning dare not fight, nor thunder. - - He said no more, but crack'd his whip, - And gave the Trojan chief the slip: - The horses run along the coast, - As fast as country priests ride post, - When death, assisted by good liquor, - Was seiz'd some neighb'ring guzzling vicar: - The Trojans shout, as well they might, - To see them in such hellish fright: - When Hector calls to Diomede, - You've special heels in time of need; - For this th' Argives will give their chief - For his own share a rump of beef. - Though Hector's self you dare not face, - You beat him hollow in the race; - I find you are, when blows you're shunnin' - The devil of a hand at running. - You see to what your bragging comes; - You shake our walls! you kiss our bums: - Though yet, perhaps, I'll dust your coat - Before you reach your crazy boat. - - The Grecian bully could not bear - Such cutting kind of jokes to hear. - Thrice the bold chief his horses stopp'd, - And thrice the bold proposal dropp'd; - For Thunder, in the shape of Fear, - Whisper'd the warrior in the ear: - - For what the devil should you stay? - I'm sure, if you don't run away, - You'll get your hide well drubb'd to-day. - - This counsel by the chief was taken, - Who smok'd alone and say'd his bacon. - Great Hector, with no little glee, - The lightning saw as well as he, - But to his sense each thunder crack - Felt like a cheering clap o' th' back. - - Then to his trusty Trojans spoke: - Ye backs of steel, and hearts of oak, - Remember what our grandames tell us, - That all our dads were clever fellows, - And not a man but what would scorn - To flinch from duty night and morn; - Therefore dismiss all needless fears, - Because Jove's rumbling thunder swears - We now shall lug the Grecians' ears. - Advance then quick, we'll surely end 'em; - Yon muddy walls shall ne'er defend 'em. - Soon as we've drove them down their hatches, - Lug out your tinder-box and matches, - And strike a light; we first will swinge 'em - With broomstaves, then with links we'll singe 'em. - He spoke; and bid his horses go - In words like these, Gee up! gee ho! - Ball, Jolly, Driver, hi! gee hi! - Old Dobbin, zoons! why don't you fly? - Perform your journey well this day, - You ne'er shall want both corn and hay. - You know my dame, when I return, - Is always ready with your corn: - You're sure good measure there will be, - No cheating ostler keeps the key; - Run till I catch that Diom's buff coat, - Or Nestor's potlid and his rough coat. - Gain me but these before ye tire, - And then I'll set their boats on fire. - - This Juno heard, that scolding witch, - And gave her buttocks such a twitch, - It shook her three-legg'd milking-stool, - Which shook the stars from pole to pole. - - Neptune! says she, I vow and swear - To me it seems a little queer - That you should see those Grecians beaten, - Whose victuals you so oft have eaten, - Those Greeks, by whom you're daily fed - With bullock's liver and sheep's head. - Both Egoe and Helice too - An ordinary keep for you, - And stuff your guts three times a week - With fry'd cow-heel and bak'd ox-cheek, - At their own proper charge and cost; - Yet you sit still and see 'em lost. - Would their own gods take heart and stand, - With all my soul I'd lend a hand; - Nor could that cross-grain'd surly elf, - My precious husband, help himself, - But, whilst he saw the Trojans tumble, - Sit still and hear his own guts grumble. - - The water God, in great surprise, - First shakes his noddle, then replies: - I ken your jade's trick mighty well, - You'd have me, like yourself, rebel; - But I know better: you're his wife, - And therefore may rebel for life; - Wives for rebellion plead old custom, - And they will keep it up, I trust 'em: - We're sensible 'tis nothing more - Than what their mothers did before: - Content I'll keep the way I'm in, - And slumber in a whole calf's skin. - - And now the mighty mob of Troy, - By Hector led, the Greeks annoy: - Close by the ditch they threat'ning stand, - With flaming hedge-stakes in their hand: - Poor Agamemnon, in a fit - Of fear, was very nigh besh-t. - But Juno help'd him with a touch - To some small courage, though not much - He ran, and carried in his hand - The royal ensign of command; - An old red flannel petticoat, - That once belong'd a dame of note, - But happening in her trade to fail, - Atrides bought it at her sale. - The back part and the sides, to view, - Appear'd almost as good as new; - But, notwithstanding all her care, - The breadth before was worn thread-bare. - Mounted upon Ulysses' boat, - He way'd this flaming petticoat, - And thus began to tune his throat; - But roar'd so loud, and was so scar'd. - Both Ajax and Ulysses heard, - Though separated by the fleet, - 'Tis thought, at least, five hundred feet: - - O, all ye (Grecian paltry dogs! - The vessels echo'd back, Damn'd rogues!) - Where are your mighty boasts at dinner - 'Gainst Troy? each single Greek would win her! - Whilst your ungodly guts ye fill, - You all look fierce as Bobadil: - Now, I'm convinc'd each single glutton, - If Troy's strong walls were made of mutton, - Would eat his way into the town, - And quickly pull their houses down; - Yet now, though driven on a heap, - Dare all as well be d--d as peep - Across the ditch to look at Hector, - Who will in less, as I conjecture, - Than half an hour quite overturn us, - And in our rotten scullers burn us:-- - O Jupiter! whose strength is mickle, - Was ever man in such a pickle? - My limbs impair'd with claps and pox, - And curs'd with rogues that dare not box; - But they, the battle once begun, - Don't stoutly fight, but stoutly run; - For thee I've broil'd ten thousand cuts - Of bullock's hearts and pecks of guts, - Then only ask'd a slender boon, - Leave to demolish that damn'd town: - But since you won't give leave, we pray - You'll let us drub the dogs to-day, - Just to get time to run away. - - Thus roar'd the king, in doleful dumps, - Then on the sandy shore he jumps. - To hear this melancholy ditty, - Jove could not help a little pity; - From off his three-legg'd stool he starts up, - And sent a sign to cheer their hearts up. - Behold, a hungry carrion-crow - Had got within his beak, or claw, - A frog; but someway out it popp'd, - And 'mongst the hungry Grecians dropp'd. - To Frenchmen this, instead of beating, - Had been a sign of rare good eating; - They would have jump'd, if from the bogs - The crows had brought ten thousand frogs; - It even rais'd the Grecians' courage - More than a bellyful of porridge; - They on a sudden turn about, - And strive who first shall sally out. - That bullying, noisy, scolding bitch, - Call'd Diomede, first leap'd the ditch, - And dealt such furious strokes to rout 'em, - He made the Trojans look about 'em. - The first that ply'd his heels to run - Was Agelaues, Phradmon's son-- - A noted broker in the Alley-- - He saw this furious Grecian sally; - On which he nimbly limp'd along, - As brokers do when things go wrong; - But the bold Grecian mark'd him soon, - And with a broomstick fetch'd him down - (This Diom. had a wondrous knack - Of hitting folks behind their back): - As down he tumbled in a sweat, - His potlid and his noddle met; - And made between 'em such a hum, - It sounded like a kettle-drum. - Now that a passage once was made, - The Greeks, though woefully afraid, - Seem'd quite asham'd to let that elf - Tydides box it by himself; - On which the Atrides show'd their faces, - And after them the fool Ajaces: - Meriones was next, and then - Appear'd the bruiser Idomen: - Ulysses thrust his long neck out, - To peep with caution round about, - And saw all safe, so ventur'd out; - Which when the archer Teucer saw, - He ventur'd to bring out his bow, - Then with a gimlet bor'd a hole - Through Ajax' potlid, whence he stole - A peep, to see what kind of spark - Stood most convenient for his mark; - On which he shot a dart, and plump - Behind the targe again did jump. - Thus rats and mice, fry dagger prest, - Skip nimbly back into their nest; - And honest Ajax lugg'd, in troth; - A potlid big enough for both. - My dear Miss Muse, pray let us know - Who tumbled first by this long bow. - I will, my ragged friend, says she, - Because you ask so prettily: - Orsilochus, a friend to Venus, - First fell, and after him Ormenus. - One kept a dram-shop in the Strand; - T' other sold clothes at second-hand - In Monmouth-street; where if you've been, Sir, - You must have heard him cry, Walk in, Sir! - Then Lycophron, a tailor, fell, - And went to mend old clothes in hell; - Unlucky dog! the Fates did twist his - Small thread of life with Ophelestes, - A button-maker, who was shot, - And then poor Chromius went to pot. - Scarce was he down upon his back, - When Dacer fell with such a whack - Upon his ribs, it made 'em crack. - This Dacer was a penny barber, - That us'd both whores and rogues to harbour; - So got his living within doors, - By shaving culls and curling whores. - Bold Hamopaon next he handles, - A famous maker of wax candles; - Although of late he grew but shallow, - And mix'd his wax with stinking tallow. - Fierce Melenippus could not keep - His feet, but tumbled on the heap: - He in the Borough kept a slop-shop, - Exactly o'er against a hop-shop; - From Teucer's bow an arrow pops, - And bump'd his guts through all his slops. - Besides all these, this spawn of whore - Reports he fell'd a dozen more: - But I can't think much credit's due - To one that shoots so long a bow. - - When Agamemnon saw this whelp - Knocking folks down without his help, - He jump'd and skipp'd, and cried, Huzza! - I wish, my boy, that ev'ry day - You'd shown us this same sort of play: - Of mighty service it had been - To keep the Grecians' breeches clean. - Since thou canst shoot with such a smack, - Well may thy good old daddy crack; - Than his true-born he loves thee more, - Because thy mother was a whore. - He quickly saw thy early worth, - And from the Foundling brought thee forth; - Where, hadst thou staid, thou'dst been a tailor, - Or else a blacksmith, or a nailer; - But, proud to find he'd such a son, - He paid the charge and brought thee home. - Now hear a Brentford monarch speak: - If Troy should tumble down next week, - First, for myself, you may be sure, - I shall provide a buxom whore, - Or three or four, or happen more; - But when my proper share is reckon'd, - Depend upon't, you shall be second. - Besides a noble piece of gold, - And twenty shillings three times told, - I'll answer that the sons of Greece - Will let you choose the next-best piece. - - The youth replies: I would have you, Sir, - Know that your bribes are lost on Teucer; - I neither fight for ale nor cake, - But drub the dogs for mischief's sake; - I hate the Trojans, and would eat 'em, - Was there no other way to beat 'em: - Eight darts I sent, and aim'd 'em full - At bully Hector's knotty skull; - They hit eight sons of whores, 'tis granted, - But Hector was the whore's-bird wanted: - Some damn'd old Lapland witch incog. - Defends that blust'ring Trojan dog. - - Just as the words were out, he straight - Let fly again at Hector's pate. - Again the arrow miss'd its mark, - But hit another Trojan spark, - Gorgythio call'd, of royal blood: - Old Priam got him when he could - Stand stiffly to't; then all on fire-a - He kiss'd his mother Castianira, - And got this youth, as fine a boy - As ever broke a lamp in Troy. - Have you not, at the tailors' feast, - Beheld by chance a weak-brain'd guest, - Who is to drink no longer able, - But rests his head upon the table? - Just so this luckless lad did rest - His heavy nob upon his breast. - Another dart this spark, hap-hazard, - Let fly once more at Hector's mazzard: - It miss'd; which made the Greek conjecture - Apollo turn'd the shaft from Hector-- - Although it did not miss so far, - But brought the driver off the car; - Poor Archeptolemus's jaws, - The coachman with the copper nose. - It hit; his leather jacket rumbled - So loud, as on the ground he tumbled, - That all the horses in the cart - Could not refrain a sudden start. - When Hector saw his coachman fall, - It vex'd his liver, guts, and all. - Cebriones, a country lout, - By chance was gaping round about, - To him the bully Hec. calls out: - Here, you, Sir, come and drive this cart; - And if you find the horses start, - Keep a tight hand and proper check, - Or else, by Jove, they'll break your neck. - Then out he jumps, and, stooping down, - Took up a fine Scotch paving-stone; - Just as the Grecian's bow was bent, - Hector this hard Scotch paving sent - With such a force, it broke the bow, - And snapp'd the catgut string in two; - Then smack'd his guts with such a thump, - He fell'd him flat upon his rump: - Alastor and Mecisteus bore him, - And Ajax clapp'd his potlid o'er him: - In this condition, all besh-t, - They lugg'd him to the Grecian fleet. - And now old father Jove, we find, - Began to think he'd chang'd his mind - Too soon; on which he fac'd about, - To help the drooping Trojans out. - The Greeks again forsook the fray, - And like brave fellows ran away: - Hard at their tails bold Hector keeps, - And drives them into th' ditch on heaps, - Pelted their Dutch-made heavy rumps, - And ply'd 'em off with kicks and thumps. - Thus I a farmer's cur have seen, - When sheep are driven o'er the green, - A constant waughing does he keep, - But only bites the hindmost sheep: - Thus did this fiery son of Mars - Lend the last knave a kick o' th' a--e; - And now when, out of breath for haste, - With loss of men the ditch they'd pass'd, - These fighting fellows, all so stout, - Just made a shift to turn about; - There they saw Hector's cart-wheels reach - The very edge of this great ditch, - And there he stood, the Grecians fright'ning - So much, they swore his eyes were lightning. - Some of their wise old soakers said - His noddle was a Gorgon's head: - But one deep-learn'd north-country elf - Swore 'twas the muckle de'il himself; - For oft before his face he'd seen, - And ken'd him by his saucer eyne. - - Juno, whose nose was mighty tickle, - Soon smelt their most unsavoury pickle, - And, calling out to Pallas, cries: - Smite my black muff, and blast my eyes, - If all my patience is not gone - To see the Grecians so run down! - Help me to save 'em now or never, - Or else the dogs are lost for ever, - But how, we scarce have time to think; - Smell you not how the rascals stink? - Gods! shall one scoundrel do this evil, - And drive such numbers to the devil? - That son of a damn'd Trojan bitch, - See how he scares them 'cross the ditch! - - Pallas replies, I see as well - As you or any one can tell - What yon infernal rascal's doing; - But how to save our rogues from ruin - I can't devise; your surly mate - Won't let me break that Hector's pate: - In vain to crack his skull I strive, - Your Jove will neither lead nor drive: - Th' immortal rogues forget us soon - As mortal rogues a favour done: - To me he came, and made great moan, - Begging that I would save his son, - The mighty kill-cow Hercules-- - A clumsier dog one seldom sees; - And yet the thief, with rare hard sweating, - Cost him three days and nights in getting! - I whipp'd me down to lend him help, - And often sav'd the clumsy whelp; - But had I known his dad so well, - When last he took a trip to hell, - His journey should have been in vain, - I ne'er had help'd him back again: - The stumbling-block that lay i' th' way. - To hinder his return to-day, - I'd have been stuck before I'd lift it, - But left the devil and him to shift it. - I've a good mind to go and beat his - Beloved minx, that goody Thetis; - If e'er again she strokes his thighs, - I'll give the brimstone two black eyes; - To humour her curs'd bastard's freaks, - He'll quite demolish all our Greeks; - When 'tis too late, this face of gallows - Will call me his beloved Pallas. - Zounds! don't stay here to wink and pink, - But get your chariot in a twink; - Spite of the Thund'rer and his punk, - We'll make those Trojan scoundrels funk; - Let us but land upon the shore, - Hector will hector them no more; - When I and Juno come to fight 'em; - The devil's in't if we can't fright 'em; - And ten to one, but in a crack - We'll lay this Broughton on his back. - But if, in spite of all our cracks, - He lays us both upon our backs, - As things go now, the swagg'ring devil - Will scarce have time to be uncivil: - And if he has, his whoring sconce - Can only trim us one at once; - So whilst one gets her bus'ness done, - The other will have time to run. - - Her voice then ceas'd through rage and spleen, - Whilst Jove's eternal scolding queen - Lent the poor Trojans fifty curses, - Before she went to fetch her horses; - But yet, though pinch'd for time, took pains - To tie red ribands to their manes: - When Pallas instantly threw down - Her daggled petticoat and gown, - Nor staid to fold her ragged placket, - But whipp'd her on a buff-skin jacket - So glaz'd with grease all o'er the stitches, - It shin'd like Ashley's greasy breeches. - Upon the car she took her stand, - And shook a broomstaff in her hand, - So large, that, tie a proper heap - Of broom o' th' end on't, it would sweep - All London streets, I'm pretty sure, - Quite clean in less than half an hour, - And souse into the Thames drive all - The rubbish, aldermen and all. - Juno soon got upon the box, - And drives the geldings with a pox; - The Hours, as they had done before - Stood on the watch to ope the door. - Eager to crack poor Hector's crown, - They gallop'd neck or nothing down: - But Jove, who kept a sharp look-out, - Saw what the brimstones were about, - On which he calls for Kitty Iris: - Kitty, says he, my pluck on fire is, - And every toe about me itches - To have a kick at yon damn'd bitches, - Because so impudently they - My strict commands dare disobey: - Fly, meet the brimstones both, and tell 'em - A thousand fathom deep I'll fell 'em, - Kill both their nags, and break their wheels, - And tie the beldames neck and heels; - And, spite of all that they can say, - Whether they scold, or swear, or pray, - Expose their brawny bums together - For ten long years to wind and weather, - Where every passenger that comes - Shall take a slap at both their bums! - But speak you to Minerva first, - Because, at present, she's the worst: - As for my rib, though shame to tell, - She pleads old custom to rebel; - But now I mind her noise no more - Than Fielding minds a scolding whore. - - On this the rainbow goddess strides - Her broomshaft, and away she rides: - (By Homer's own account, we find - At any time she'd beat the wind). - She met the chariot on the slope, - Plague on you both! says Iris, stop: - Such foolish journeys why begin ye? - Jove thinks the devil must be in ye; - And so do I: he bid me tell ye, - A thousand fathom deep he'll fell ye. - Kill both your nags, and break your wheels, - And tie you by the neck and heels; - And, spite of all that you can say, - Whether you scold, or swear, or pray, - Expose your brawny bums together, - For ten long years, to wind and weather, - Where every passenger that comes, - Shall take a slap at both your bums: - To you, Minerva, I speak first, - Because he thinks you're now the worst: - As for his rib, 'tis shame to tell, - She pleads old custom to rebel; - But much he wonders what bewitches - Your busy pate, you bitch of bitches[6]! - - Like lightning then away she flew; - Her speech though made 'em both look blue: - They star'd like honest Johnny Wade, - When he one evening with the maid - A game at pushpin had begun, - And madam came before he'd done! - But Juno, though her guts and mazzard - Work'd like a guile-fat, yet no hazard - She chose to run, so curb'd her swell, - And seem'd to take it mighty well, - But could not help from wriggling hard, - Like mother ****, when a card - Goes very cross, and cuts her soul - By losing a sans-prendre vole. - - Our rage, my crony, with a pox - Has brought us to a damn'd wrong box; - I've just found out, it strange and odd is, - That each of us, a powerful goddess, - Should with our crusty thund'rer squabble, - And all for what?--A mortal rabble. - E'en let 'em live with custard cramm'd, - Or die all placemen and be damn'd; - Let Jove give victory, or rout 'em, - No more I'll fret my guts about 'em. - - On this she gave her tits a smack, - And pull'd the reins to keep 'em back; - But all the while they turn'd 'em, she - Kept crying Gee, plague rot ye, gee! - When they were fairly turn'd about, - Full speed once more the tits set out, - And gallop'd up the hill as soon - Within an ace as they came down: - The Hours unloos'd 'em, rubb'd their coats, - And gave 'em half a peck of oats; - Then fetch'd clean straw to make their bed, - And put the chariot in a shed; - Whilst the two brims, with bashful faces, - Sneak'd off, and went to take their places. - - And now old Jove was tir'd of Ida, - And up to heaven he took a ride-a; - But drove his geldings with such ire, - For want of grease his wheels took fire. - Lest they should burn the horses' bums, - In a great splutter Neptune comes: - With an old sail he call'd his fish-clout, - Which serv'd for table-cloth and dish-clout, - Th' old soaker in an instant reels out, - And smothers both the burning wheels out. - Away walk'd Jove, and took his seat - I' th' hall where all their godships meet; - But with such weight he mov'd his toe, - It made an earthquake here below, - And in a wicked popish town - Tumbled a hundred convents down, - And sent inquisitors and friars, - With shoals of other holy liars, - Smoothly, without a single rub, - To see their patron Beelzebub, - Into whose territories though - They all were certain they must go, - Yet at that time you may be sure - They thought it rather premature. - - But to the point. Like our lord mayor, - With solemn phiz, Jove took the chair; - Juno and Pallas in the hall - Both look'd as if they'd something stole: - They squinted up, and saw he frown'd, - So whipp'd their eyes upon the ground, - And seem'd as gravely to be list'ning - As harlots at a country christ'ning: - He smil'd to find this lucky push - For once had made the brimstones blush; - So instantly began to chatter: - Juno and Pallas, what's the matter? - What made ye both return so soon? - I thought you'd ta'en a trip to town - To pull some bawdy-houses down, - For Juno's sake, who can't endure - The sight of either rogue or whore; - And therefore I expected soon - To see the bagnios tumbling down, - And noseless rogues, eat up with pox, - And whores in nothing but their smocks; - Running, like devils, helter skelter - To wine and brandy shops for shelter. - Pray give me leave though to inquire, - Is Troy demolish'd, or on fire? - But know, ye vixens, I shall make - Your grumbling guts and gizzards ache, - If e'er again ye dare to fratch - With him who is your overmatch; - For all the underlings o' the sky - When I begin to kick must fly. - Therefore, I say, beware your mazzards, - And run no more such foolish hazards: - If my enchanted wand I shake, - You'll feel your guts and livers quake: - Whoever dares my wrath oppose, - With red-hot tongs I'll pinch his nose, - And make him caper, roar, and snivel, - As great St. Dunstan did the Devil. - - The moment that he did begin - This speech, the gipsies dropp'd their chin, - And ere he made an end o' th' song, - Their faces grew a full yard long; - But yet their comfort was, that all - The race of whoring Troy would fall. - Pallas so much with wrath was gor'd, - She could not speak a single word: - But Juno's passion was so strong - She could not hold her noisy tongue; - So, scolding at her usual rate, - She thus attack'd her loving mate: - - You know you're stronger far than all us, - Or else such names you durst not call us, - But split me if I don't believe - You swinge the Greeks to make us grieve! - 'Tis not strict justice guides your rod, - 'Tis contradiction all, by G-d! - And yet you can pretend that no man - Is half so positive as woman; - But 'tis a base invented fiction: - Man taught poor woman contradiction: - For Greece you sit and see us grieve, - And won't an inch of comfort give; - By your cross surly face we're snubb'd, - And forc'd to see the Grecians drubb'd; - But let us give 'em counsel fit, - Or every soul will be besh-t. - - To Jove she chatter'd at this rate, - And thus reply'd old Surly-pate: - Vulcan my thunder-bolts is bright'ning, - And store of rosin's ground for lightning[7]: - Therefore to-morrow morn with thunder - I'll scare 'em so, you need not wonder - If half the ragged sons of bitches - With downright fear bepiss their breeches. - Nor let your restless gizzards grumble - Though you see dozens of 'em tumble; - Hector sha'n't cease o' th' bum to kick 'em, - Or with his old cheese-toaster stick 'em, - Till he shall lay his luckless paws - Across Pelides' fav'rite's jaws; - Then in a passion shall Achilles - Fight like a devil--such my will is: - Nor shall it alter, though you stay - And scold for ever and a day: - To Lapland go, where witches dwell, - Or Strombello, the mouth of Hell; - There arm both conjurors and witches, - I'll smoke the dogs, and burn the bitches. - - Meantime the Sun, with phiz so bright, - Walk'd off, and up came madam Night: - The Grecians thought her mighty civil; - The Trojans wish'd her at the devil: - But as the Greeks were forc'd to yield, - The bully Trojans kept the field. - Hector, resolv'd the dogs to maul, - Doth instantly a council call, - That he might have their sanction to - Perform what he design'd to do-- - A trick, I've heard some people say, - Our gen'rals practise to this day. - But as the Grecians lay so near, - That they perhaps his speech might hear, - He led 'em to Scamander's banks, - Where down they sat to ease their shanks. - His quarterstaff in his right hand - He fix'd, to help to make him stand, - On which he lean'd when he thought fit - (You know a speaker ne'er should sit - Till his oration's at an end, - Whether they do or not attend): - This staff, which he in battle bore, - Was three yards long, or rather more, - With bladders tied each end thereon, - To scare folks as he knock'd 'em down. - - Forward the chief his body bends, - Like Gl-ver, and began, My friends, - If you will yield me due attention, - Some thoughts that just occur, I'll mention - This day we hop'd the Grecian boats - To burn, and steal their thread-bare coats; - But, to our great and grievous sorrow, - We cannot do it till to-morrow, - Because that blackguard, Mrs. Night, - Came in and drove away the light. - Howe'er, 'tis fit, by beat of drum, - To let her know we see she's come, - And that, come when she will, 'tis proper - For thinking men to think of supper. - After we've eat our cheese and bread, - Let all men see their horses fed; - For never was that ostler born - That would not cheat 'em of their corn, - Unless you keep a sharp look-out; - And I, depend upon't, will do't. - The town will send us in, of course, - Both provender for man and horse; - To stop our drunken knaves from sleeping, - A thousand bonfires let us keep in: - These fires will shine as bright as day, - And then the Greeks can't run away: - But if they do, the rogues shall find most - Confounded doings for the hindmost; - For, should they pop away i' th' dark, - We'll give 'em every man a mark, - Such as may last each man his life, - To show his roaring brats and wife, - And warn the thieving sons of Tartars - How they again beat up our quarters. - Next, to the town, if you think well, - We'll send the bellman with his bell, - Who with his rusty voice may call - The hobbling watchmen to the wall: - And, to prevent all needless frights, - Let the old women hang out lights, - Lest, while the shades of night are on us? - The Grecians steal a march upon us, - And, slily entering the town, - Trim all our wives both up and down. - To night these orders are enough, - To-morrow we will work their buff: - I've a great notion that we may - Drive these infernal rogues away, - Or tie the rascals to a stake fast, - To give our dogs and cats a breakfast. - Therefore this single night let's watch, - And, when the morning streaks you catch, - Get all the link-boys you can hire, - And set their huts and boats on fire; - Then shall myself and Diomede - Decide whose nose shall soonest bleed, - And whose propitious fate prevails, - When weigh'd in Justice Cox's scales. - Soon as to-morrow's dawn appears, - I'll dust his cap about his ears; - This good old stick shall crack his crown, - And knock his rogues by dozens down: - As sure as I perform this task, - May I obtain whate'er I ask; - With my lord-mayor to dine on Sundays, - Or common-council men on Mondays, - To cram my guts with tart and custard, - And goose with apple-sauce and mustard, - Or guttle down six pound of turtle, - And drink the glorious and immortal: - In joy thus eat, or fast in sorrow, - As I shall drub the rogues to-morrow! - - He ceas'd, and all the captains praise - This noble speech with three huzzas. - After they'd loos'd from off the yoke - The horses, wet with sweat and smoke, - And tied, to keep the nags apart, - Each tit behind his owner's cart; - Then came fat bacon from the town, - With bread (but ev'ry loaf was brown), - And a good stock of mild and stale, - Though not one cask of Yorkshire ale: - The victuals they began to cook; - But for their gods, to make a smoke, - They bought some guts; but all that night - Their godships had no appetite, - Puff'd the smoke from them in a sputter, - And quarrel'd with their bread and butter. - Juno, that fratching quean, pretended - Her sense of smelling was offended: - Jove said he felt a queerish funk, - And Pallas swore the guts all stunk. - Thus did Troy find, to all their cost, - A very handsome supper lost, - Though their great courage did not droop, - Because good liquor kept it up. - As, when a show'r in London streets, - By rubbish thrown, a stoppage meets, - A ragged blackguard with his link - Attends your steps across the sink, - The link directs you where to get - To save your shoes from dirt and wet; - So, by the help of blazing fires, - You'd see the Trojan's wooden spires; - And twice five hundred fires as bright - As those that grace the annual night - That say'd us from the Powder-plot, - These roaring sons of Troy had got; - Each fire did fifty Trojans view, - So drunk, they laid 'em down to spew: - The horses show their cart-horse breeding, - And kick each other whilst they're feeding. - - - - [1] Harry the Eighth. - - [2] This man was a justice of the peace. Whilst his clerk was writing a -mittimus to send a girl to Bridewell, for retailing her ware full -measure for a shilling a turn, he had his own weights broken in pieces -by the jury, and thrown into the street, for being short above two -ounces in the pound. - - [3] Yorkshire word for horses. - - [4] Don Quichote. - - [5] They made thunder formerly at the play-houses in a great -mustard-bowl. - - [6] The reader, perhaps, may think I make Iris abuse the goddess of -wisdom too much in the Billingsgate style; but if he will peruse Homer, -he will find Iris ten times more abusive in Greek, than I could make -her in English. Homer, 1. S. lin. 423; [Greek: Annotatei kuon addees]. -This part of Iris's abuse is not in commission from Jove, it naturally -arises from the petulant malignity of the messenger. Gentle reader, if -you would avoid endless quarrels, never employ an ill-natured female to -deliver an angry message to one of her own sex; for it must be a very -angry message indeed that a woman cannot make an addition to. - - [7] They make lightning at the play-house with rosin pounded very small, -and thrown through the flame of a candle. - - - - - THE NINTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - This book begins with Atreus' son - Persuading all his Greeks to run, - Let's haste, says he, and save our lives, - And like good husbands kiss our wives; - For, if we stay, be sure Old Nick - Will play us some damn'd slipp'ry trick; - Nor hope the sooty-fac'd old boy - Will e'er desert his fav'rite Troy. - - At this fine speech Tydides swore - Worse than he'd ever done before, - And spoke his mind, because he reckon'd - Old Chatterbags would be his second: - Here he was right: th' old cock begun, - And d--d his eyes if he would run. - They then consult to know which way - They can with any safety stay. - Old Square-toes in the humour still is - To try and reconcile Achilles; - Then adds, I think it not amiss is - To send both Ajax and Ulysses. - As he propos'd, they both are sent, - And with them goody Phoenix went. - Now, though it plain appears, that each - Made in his turn a pretty speech, - And did with as much cunning plead - As ******, when he's double-fee'd, - Achilles turn'd it all to farce, - And clapp'd his hand upon his a--e. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK IX. - - - - Whilst Troy's bold sons with shouts get drunk, - The conquer'd Grecians sweat and funk. - As when a tailor's boy has got - His master's goose, almost red hot, - The coat it singes; straight the fire - The bloody tailor fills with ire: - He thumps the lad with all his might, - First with his left hand, then his right; - The bastard's head, on both sides beat, - Can neither stay, nor yet retreat; - No chance for his escape appears, - Whilst double storms attack his ears: - Just so it far'd with Greece; away - They could not run, nor durst they stay: - Poor Agamemnon was distress'd - Nine times as much as all the rest - (You'll say, perhaps, How could he choose? - For he'd nine times as much to lose): - Howe'er, he calls his man, to send him - To beg the captains would attend him; - But charges him before he goes, - To bid 'em tread upon their toes. - As they were bid, they found their legs, - But walk'd as if they trod on eggs. - Their near approach the chief espying, - Rose up to show 'em he was crying; - And ere his doleful tale began, - He sobb'd and blubber'd like a man. - - [Illustration: Book IX, page 124. - As they were bid, they found their legs, - But walk'd as if they trod on eggs. - Their near approach the chief espying, - Rose up to show 'em he was crying.] - - They found him in this piteous case, - Tears running down his dirty face: - So, when retention's lost, there steals - A salt stream down th' old lady's heels. - - At length he spoke: Good lack-a-day! - In these hard times what can we say? - Of Jove we all complain with justice, - For in his royal word no trust is: - The oracles of wise Apollo - Have likewise been a little hollow; - Betwixt 'em both we're finely nick'd, - And get most tightly thump'd and kick'd: - They promis'd we our fobs should cram, - But now you see 'tis all a flam; - For Jove, if ever he design'd - To do us good, has chang'd his mind: - Although so much concern he feels, - He gives us leave to trust our heels. - Therefore I vote that ev'ry man - Trot home as fast as e'er he can, - Nor hope that we shall e'er destroy - This heaven-defended whore's-nest, Troy. - - He spoke: and each bold Grecian son - Look'd as he'd neither lost nor won, - But gaping stood; till Diomede - Began to speak, and speak he did: - - You told me, Sir, I late begun - To fight, but rot me if I run! - No cause of quarrel Diom. seeks, - But we are lost if no man speaks: - You bawl'd so loud, though I was near you, - You made our raggamuffins hear you; - Though then I thought it good to wink on't, - Seal up my day-lights, but I'll think on't! - Great Jove, whose power all power surpasses, - Who makes great men of calves and asses:Witness - the English h---- of p----, - And c----s too of later years; - Witness the ministers of ----, - And privy c----s of late; - Witness their treaties with the French; - Witness their j----s on the bench; - Witness their bishops, priests, and deacons, - All pious souls, but very weak ones; - Witness their justices of peace, - And lawyers too:--but let me cease - To chatter more this kind of stuff, - I think there's witnesses enough: - So to my text, as parsons say; - The gods, when they mix'd up thy clay, - Put half and half, and let thee pass - Half a great booby, half an ass; - But I am sure they could not then - Design thee to command brave men, - Because to give thee they thought fit - A soul no bigger than a nit! - Would any bold commander, pray, - Persuade his rogues to run away? - And then 'tis ten to one you'll swear - The raggamuffins ran for fear. - You and your sneaking crew may run; - But take my word, since I've begun - To kick and cuff, you may depend on't - I'll tarry here, and see the end on't. - Then don't this fair occasion slip, - But get on board thy rotten ship; - The rest, I hope, will scorn to mog off, - And dim my day-lights if I'll jog off, - But stay to fire yon whoring town, - And pull their barns and cocklofts down - But if they all should choose to fly. - Stenny will stay, and so will I. - When once I've enter'd, know I am - As steady as a Rockingham, - Whose country's cause will ever be - His object to eternity. - Like him I'll knaves and fools oppose, - But join both heart and hand with those - Whose words as well as actions show - They love their king and country too: - In such a cause I'll never flinch, - And smite me if I stir an inch! - With heaven we came when we begun, - And hell itself sha'n't make us run. - - He ended here; and all the crowd - Began to shout so very loud, - You'd think each man would burst his liver - With roaring, Diomede for ever! - When up the rev'rend figure rear'd - Of chatt'ring Nestor's grizzle beard, - And spoke; the chiefs all silent sit - As members when they're humm'd by Pitt - - Thus he begins: My trusty knight, - Stick to your text, by G-- you're right! - I like a man that never starves it, - But blames king George, if he deserves it; - And yet before you gave it o'er - You might have said a little more: - I'll speak, nor do I think the thing - Will vex the people or the king. - Damnation seize and overtake - The man that fights for fighting's sake! - Such rogues the world would over-run, - And break good people's heads for fun; - But we, though under feet we're trod, - Have justice on our side, by G-d! - Therefore to-night let sentries watch us, - Lest these confounded rascals catch us - All fast asleep. But first 'tis proper - To give these sentinels some supper: - Then thou, whose pow'r no man controls, - To council call the grave old souls; - Before the bus'ness you begin, - Give each old buff a dram of gin; - 'Twill cheer their hearts, with age quite shrunk, - But don't you make th' old firelocks drunk; - For counsel good no honest fellow - Can give, if he is more than mellow: - With mod'rate share of meat and drink - They'll freely chatter what they think, - And, like a City congregation - Who meet sometimes for the good o' th' nation, - Some one, before the close of night, - May blunder on a thing that's right. - See but yon Trojan fires so near us! - If we but sneeze, they overhear us; - Whilst then so nigh our boats they keep, - The devil fetch me if I'll sleep! - To-morrow morn begins the jumble, - Where Troy must fall, or Greece must tumble. - - 'Twas thus old Grey-beard spoke; and straight - Each sentry posted to his gate: - The son[1] the father first obey'd, - To show he minded what he said: - (For in those times a son would do - Things that are out of fashion now): - Ascalaphus, the son of Mars, - Follow'd this hero hard at a--e, - Along with bold Ialmen, who - Was bully Mars's bastard too; - Merion and Diepyrus - Went next, and then Aphereus; - Last came the valiant Lycomede, - A hardy whelp of Creon's breed. - Twice fifty constables, all knaves, - Guarded each bully with their staves; - Not one durst sit upon his crupper, - But standing mump'd his crust for supper. - The chief, both hungry and afraid, - Had in his tent a supper made; - Though matters wore no pleasing looks, - He had not yet discharg'd his cooks; - 'Tis true, he oft had thought upon - A proper reformation, - And taken good advice from all but - The very man he should, L--d T----t, - Who soon would bring that scheme to pass, - And send his drunken cooks to grass. - But as there's nought on earth can look - So dismal as a half-starv'd cook, - I hope, for these poor devils' sake, - He won't such sneaking methods take, - But let each honest red-nos'd cook - Die, as he's liv'd, in fire and smoke. - - All the old cocks were bidden to - This melancholy supper, who - Were capable at this bad bout - By good advice to help them out: - They ate a deal, but drank much more, - Nor stopp'd till they were half-seas o'er; - Nestor, who on this weighty summons - (Like speakers in the house of c------s) - First penn'd a speech, then got it off, - Began to hawk, and spit, and cough, - Then spoke: Thou monarch, who, in troth, - Exceed'st the kings of Brentford both! - Thou powerful chief, bedeck'd with ermine, - Who, as thy fancy shall determine, - Canst pull down men, and set up vermin, - A thing you did some time ago, - To show the folks what you could do - Upon a pinch; but if again - You do it, Nestor tells you plain - All honest men will so resent it, - They'll give you reason to repent it. - Though you are honest we are sure, - Yet if you give to rascals power, - The wrongs you suffer them to do - Will all be justly laid on you, - And, spite of all that you can say for't, - The folks at last will make you pay for't. - In matters of this kind you'll find me - Much older than yourself, so mind me; - Cares that o'erload my upper shelf - Belong to you, and not myself; - In weighty matters don't be nice, - But always jump at good advice: - Though I'm the man of sense to make it, - Yet if you've sense enough to take it, - The gaping crowd will all agree - That you're as wise a man as me: - To seem exceeding wise, we know, - Is half as good as being so. - A noodle with a well-tim'd shrug - May any time the world humbug; - Then hear me, for I'll utter nought - But what I think, and always thought: - I told you, when you made such gabbling, - When Thetis' son and you were squabbling, - And like two blackguard scoundrels swore, - And curs'd, and damn'd about a whore, - That through my spectacles I saw, - Like Winchelsea, how things would go; - I saw the bully would resent it, - And told you who would first repent it; - And to your cost you find out now - I told you nought but what was true. - But as that matter's done and o'er, - And can't be help'd, I'll say no more: - The man's a puppy that begins - To kick his neighbour's broken shins; - Only 'tis time you strive to please him: - You vex'd him, and you must appease him. - - The chief then answers to the knight, - Flux me, old buff, but you are right! - I see as plain as in a glass, - You're a wise man and I'm an ass. - Too late I find that great strong elf - Is half an army of himself; - For him, that water-witch his mother - Drives us on heaps o'er one another: - Fain would I alter what I've done, - And strive to please both witch and son: - A bribe must fetch him, or he can, - I'll take my oath, be no great man; - For never yet of all that tribe - Could any one resist a bribe. - A star and riband, or a pension, - Will overset the best intention; - Make patriots, like the courtiers, civil, - And sell their country to the devil. - Therefore, bear witness all around, - I hereby offer him ten pound, - Seven iron pans to boil his fish in, - And twenty chamber-pots to piss in; - I'll likewise add a dozen nags, - That soon will fill his empty bags - By winning plates; not one is idle, - But ev'ry horse has won his bridle-- - Nay, some have won a saddle too-- - But of that sort there's very few. - Their pedigrees are all so good, - That few their equals are in blood: - Out of the twelve, he'll find eleven - Have got a ring-bone or a spawn, - Which is the surest sign indeed - They're of the very tip-top breed. - Besides, I'll give him seven wenches, - With fists so hard, they've kept their trenches - From being storm'd; if any clown - Offer'd to touch, they'd knock him down-- - 'Twould do him good if he would stop - And see how well they twirl a mop, - And spin so fine, they weekly earn - Their sixteen pence in spinning yarn-- - All these I'll give him out and out, - And add the wench we fratch'd about; - For his broad back doth so bewitch her, - She never yet would let me switch her. - Besides all this, when we have taken - The town, with all their eggs and bacon, - Of guttling stuff he shall have store, - Besides full twenty wenches more; - Himself shall be the first who chooses, - And what on trial he refuses - We'll take ourselves; then he shall go - To Greece, and be my son-in-law; - The farm that I have under care, - Orestes and himself shall share: - Lastly, three daughters I can boast, - All taught to bake, and boil, and roast; - Girls, that, besides plain-work and stitching, - Can do the business of the kitchen, - Can make a pudding or a pie, - Or toss you up a lambstone fry; - Laodice and Iphigene, - Two tighter girls are seldom seen; - In the sun's rays there not a beam is - So bright as red-hair'd Chrysothemis; - All three are dev'lish sprightly jades, - And sore against their will are maids. - These in their Sunday's yard-wide stuff, - Or, if he pleases, dress'd in buff, - I'll let him see to take his choice, - Like which he will, he has my voice; - And for her portion I'll give more - Than ****** spends upon his whore; - The mayor of Garrat shall not be - So great a man by half as he; - Because, those mighty gifts to crown, - I'll make him bailiff of a town, - With six fine villages about it-- - And keep my word, he need not doubt it. - He shall command Enope's people, - And Cardamyle without a steeple; - Pherag and Pedasus, whose trees - Produce so many gooseberries, - That I am told they yearly bottle - No less than fifteen hundred pottle, - And every pottle in the year - Brings them at least five farthings clear; - Hira's good pastures and Epea, - And special fields about Anthea, - Where all the farmers fill their purses - By grazing brewers' founder'd horses:-- - These, standing on the salt-sea beach, - Almost as far as Pylos reach, - Where bulls, and cows, and oxen roar, - And men get drunk, and women whore.-- - See what I offer to appease him, - The devil's in't if this don't please him: - By pray'rs the hardest thing relaxes, - Nothing stands fix'd, but death and taxes. - - Nestor, whose silence gave him pain, - Starts up to chatter once again: - Now, by my soul, 'tis bravely offer'd! - Singe my old beard if I'd have proffer'd - 'Bove half as much! This must convince - The man that you're a noble prince. - And now we've talk'd the matter fully, - Let's send and tell this stiff-rump'd bully - Your princely offer; I will warrant - To find men proper for the errand, - Men that can strut it, and look big, - With store of guts as well as wig. - In such-like cases, when we can, - We mostly send an alderman; - But since none came in our old lighters - (Few aldermen, God knows, are fighters), - We'll send some people in their places, - With aldermanic guts and faces. - There's Phoenix, like myself, grown wise, - He knows the use of well-plac'd lies; - Then Ajax, with a head so big, - If we can fit him with a wig, - He'll quickly make Achilles stare, - And think we've sent my good lord-mayor. - But I'm afraid we cannot get him - A busby large enough to fit him; - Because, when we set out, I know, - He look'd all over Middle-Row, - But could not find one, up or down, - Half deep enough to fit his crown; - Which is the cause he's forc'd to wear - His old thrum night-cap all the year. - Ulysses too, to mend the job, - Must help 'em with his fudging nob: - He'll tell more lies for half a crown - Than any shopkeeper in town. - And then, to close the farce, and make - It look like bus'ness, let 'em take - Two beadles with their brass-nobb'd staves, - I hate to see things done by halves. - When they are gone, let us prepare - To whisper every man a prayer: - But do not let the Trojans hear, - Lest they should think we pray for fear; - Though, if they can but nose it well, - They'll guess our pickle by the smell. - - And now, as usual, his oration - Receiv'd a gen'ral approbation: - The messengers soon left their places; - But first they wash'd their dirty faces, - And with an old tin dredging-box - Scatter'd some meal upon their locks, - Then from a swinging pitcher full - Of ale each took a hearty pull. - Now Nestor had a sort of dread - This ale might get into their head; - And they, perhaps, might chatter then - Like drunken common-council men, - And tell the king to whom they're sent, - They came to pay a compliment, - But end their message with a spice - Of drunken hickuping advice; - So follow'd of his own accord, - And begg'd that not one angry word - Might 'scape their jaws, and that Ulyss, - Whose roguish tricks did seldom miss, - Would see the greatest care was taken, - In this great strait to save their bacon. - - Away they trudg'd in dreadful plight, - Because it was so dark a night - They could not see a spark of light; - But they could hear the billows roar - As they came rumbling on the shore, - Which made 'em, whilst their way they kept - Lug out a prayer or two to Neptune: - Neptune, quoth they, we all could wish - That you would help us to a dish - Of sprats or smelts, or any fish, - Or, what will likeliest do the thing, - A little handful of old ling; - For that's an article will melt - A judge's heart, unless he's gelt. - But they might pray, and pray, and pray, - Neptune was out of luck that day; - Though he had fish'd from morn to night, - He had not got a single bite; - Nor (should their souls depend on that) - Could he assist them with a sprat, - Or e'en a shrimp; but as for ling, - Th' old fisherman had no such thing: - As fast as honest Neptune cur'd it, - That whoring rogue, that Jove, secur'd it; - For, though a god in ev'ry thing, - He was a devil at old ling. - But be that matter as it may, - By great good luck they grop'd their way - When they came near this son of Mars, - They saw him sitting on his a---, - Making such ugly faces, that - They thought him grinning for a hat; - But he, good man, upon his rump, - Was playing on a brass jew-trump, - And 'cause the music pleas'd him much, - He gap'd and grinn'd at ev'ry touch; - Only Patroclus tarried near him, - No mortal else would stay to hear him-- - Rather than stay to hear him play, - The very rats were run away. - - Just in the middle of his airs - They stole upon him unawares; - But, when he peep'd and saw them come, - He whipp'd him up from off his bum, - And clapp'd the trump into his pocket, - So quick, Ulysses thinks he broke it: - Patroclus too was on his rump, - And like him gave a sudden jump: - Achilles seiz'd 'em by their hands, - And begg'd to know their best commands: - - Welcome, old friends, to me yet dear! - Pray, what the devil brought you here? - If you are come to me for help, - From that infernal noisy whelp, - And hither trudg'd to ask my aid, - You must be hellishly afraid; - And that ye are, I need not tell ye, - Because, to speak the truth, I smell ye. - - [Illustration: Book IX, page 149. - Achilles seiz'd them by their hands, - And begg'd to know their best commands: - Welcome, old friends, to me yet dear! - Pray, what the devil brought you here?] - - At this he pointed to his tent; - They made a leg, and in they went, - Where down the heroes clapp'd their docks, - On woollen cushions stuff'd with flocks; - - Patroclus, says Achilles, you - Must know, of all the Grecian crew - I like these cocks; so do not fail - To get a pot of mild and stale - Of Dolly Pumplenose and tell her - To send the best in all the cellar. - - Patroclus ran and fetch'd the beer, - And then prepar'd for better cheer: - With a cow-heel he first began, - And fry'd it in an old brass pan; - But first he soak'd an offal piece, - To suck up all the verdigrise-- - Had he not ta'en such care, he might - Have poison'd all his friends outright; - Because from hist'ry it appears - The pan had not been us'd some years. - Automedon soon fetch'd a candle, - Then held the frying-pan by th' handle, - Whilst great Achilles fell to work - To cut some steaks of beef and pork: - Patroclus, at his friend's desire, - Made what we call a roaring fire, - At which the steaks were nicely cook'd, - Except a few a little smok'd; - Though his sharp hungry guests would not - Believe 'em smok'd, but smoking hot. - For table-cloth Pelides spread - A sheet he took from off his bed; - Then gave each man a cake of bread; - And, that the gods might have their due, - The fat into the fire he threw: - For heathen gods, if you'll inquire, - Are pleas'd when all the fat's i' th' fire. - - Then they fell on their meat and cakes, - And gobbled up the heel and steaks. - After they'd ta'en some time to drink, - To Phoenix Ajax tipp'd the wink; - Ulysses soon the signal spies - (For he kept watch with both his eyes), - Then pours a glass of ale by stealth, - And cries, Achilles, Sir, your health, - With forty thousand thanks, d'ye see, - For this your kind civility: - Great Agamemnon, smite my crupper! - Could not have cook'd a better supper. - But, though you've fill'd our skins so full - Of meat and drink, yet still we're dull, - Because the day is hardly pass'd, - That saw us all so tightly thrash'd; - And now we stand upon the brink - Of ruin, and shall surely sink - If you don't come, for I'm mistaken - If aught alive can save our bacon, - Unless you kindly will assist, - And let 'em feel your mutton fist. - Peep out, you'll see the Trojans keep - Us all coop'd up like Smithfield sheep; - They talk of singeing all our tails, - And burning both our masts and sails: - Great Jove himself, or else the devil, - Has been so very kind and civil, - As box all day on Hector's side, - And lend him strength to trim our hide-- - That Hector who the world defies, - And carries lightning in his eyes; - His stomach is so full of ire, - That when he rifts he belches fire; - We heard him plain his comrades tell - I' th' morn he'll ring our passing-bell, - And send both men and boats to hell: - It gave me such a twitch o' th' gripes, - To see the rascal deal his stripes, - I've hardly got quite clear on't yet, - And still I'm in a reeking sweat, - Lest he to-morrow morn come out, - And once more kick us all about. - Is it not very hard we must - Lay all our nobs in Trojan dust, - Because at present you don't list - To help us with your clumsy fist? - But, dear Achilles, now or never - Jump up, and smite that Hector's liver, - And you'll oblige your friends for ever: - But if you let us all be slain, - Sink me, if e'er we fight again! - No steps, my friend, that you can tread - Will help us when we're knock'd o' th' head; - Therefore in time observe, I pray, - What your old daddy us'd to say: - My son, said he, and strok'd thy locks, - Thou'rt strong enough to fell an ox; - But, for all that, keep clear of brabbling, - Or else you'll get a name for squabbling, - And then, depend, high words and high blows - Will bring you nought but kicks and dry blows; - But quiet dealings and good nature - Will please folks so, that ev'ry creature - Will say, in spite of your thick jowl, - 'Tis a good-natur'd honest soul. - But, in your wrath, if you perhaps - Should lend a man a slap o' th' chaps, - Your mutton fist will bruise his jaw - (Remember that I told you so), - For which, if you don't run away, - You'll have the surgeon's bill to pay. - If any blust'ring son of Mars - Affront you, bid him kiss your a---! - Whether he tarries then or goes off, - Don't strike him, lest you knock his nose off. - Pray do not, like a graceless knave, - Despise th' advice your daddy gave; - But, if you'll grant Atrides' prayer, - He'll give you--stop, and you shall hear - What a great gainer you'll be by't; - I have it down in black and white: - Before the elders seated round, - He nobly offers you ten pound, - Seven iron pans to boil your fish in, - And twenty chamber-pots to piss in; - He'll likewise add a dozen nags, - That soon will fill your empty bags, - By winning plates; they ha'n't been idle, - But ev'ry nag has won his bridle, - Nay, some have won a saddle too, - But of that sort there's very few; - Their pedigrees are all so good, - That few their equals are in blood; - Out of the twelve you'll find eleven - Have got a ring-bone or a spavin, - Which is the surest sign indeed - They're of the very tip-top breed: - For sev'ral of 'em you may trace - From that fam'd horse that won the race. - For great Darius, when the state - Decreed a kingdom for a plate; - And, if you sell them, Pond for you - Shall swear the pedigree is true. - Besides all this, he'll throw you in, - Of hard-bumm'd wenches that can spin, - The very lucky number seven, - Odd numbers always beat the even; - Their spinning will good money earn, - And you'll grow rich by selling yarn-- - All these he'll give you out and out, - And add the wench you fratch'd about, - And swears you someway so bewitch her, - She never yet would let him switch her. - Besides all this, when we have taken - The town, with all their eggs and bacon, - Of belly-timber you'll have plenty, - And a round dozen, if not twenty, - Plump girls; and, if on leap and trial - (Which they must take without denial) - You like 'em not, you need not choose 'em, - We'll snap 'em up, though you refuse 'em; - Then try again, if that will ease you, - Till you can find a score to please you: - And, when this job of jobs is done, - Which must, I think, be special fun, - He'll take you home and call you son: - Of all his lands the farm that best is - He'll split 'twixt you and bold Orestes. - Lastly, three daughters he can boast, - All taught to bake, and boil, and roast; - Useful i' th' parlour, hall, or kitchen, - And notable fine girls at stitching-- - Your shirts I mean, the wrists or neck, - Whether your linen's plain or check, - Which, my good friend, will be to you - Of use, and profitable too; - Because you need not then go swapping - Your smuggled tea for shirts in Wapping, - Where ware that's sound cannot be gotten, - And all their stitching-tackle rotten. - Laodice and Iphigene - Are two of these fine girls I mean; - In the sun's rays there not a beam is - So bright as red-hair'd Chrysothemis; - All three are sprightly buxom jades, - And, what's a rarity, they're maids! - These in their Sunday's yard-wide stuff, - Or, if you like 'em best, in buff, - He'll let you see, to take your choice, - Take which you will you have his voice; - And, for her portion, you'll have more - Than ****** spent upon his whore: - Further, these mighty gifts to crown, - He'll make you bailiff of a town, - Where, on a grand election year; - If you are careful, you may clear - Ten pounds, as sure as you were born, - Or twenty, for a false return: - But let this caution be your guide, - That you return the strongest side, - Else you may chance to find your pate - O' th' wrong side of an iron grate. - Likewise six villages do lie - Within this borough's liberty, - Of which, if I may gain belief. - You shall be constable in chief; - Both Pheroe and Enope too - Must then pull off their caps to you, - And you, when you think 't worth the while, - May kiss the girls of Cardamyle; - With Pedasus, whose stock of trees - Bear an estate in gooseberries. - These, join'd with Hira and Epea, - And special fields about Anthea, - All stretch along the salt-sea beach, - And very near to Pylos reach; - Where bulls, and cows, and oxen roar, - And men and women drink and whore, - And where they still continue whoring, - In spite of squinting Whitfield's roaring, - Although he deals to ev'ry station - Such thumping doses of damnation, - You'd swear he had a patent got - (As folks have done for pills and shot) - That none but Wesley, he, and Grimstone[2], - May deal in burning pitch and brimstone. - See what he offers to appease you! - The devil's in't, if he don't please you: - By prayers the hardest thing relaxes, - Nothing stands fix'd, but death and taxes. - You'll see, Achilles, what he proffers, - And troth I thought 'em handsome offers; - But if you turn a flat deaf ear - To our petition, folks will swear - Your liver is grown white with whoring, - And now you're good for nought but roaring; - From whence they fairly must conjecture - You dare not face that rascal Hector, - Who, I am hopeful, kicks us now, - Only to be re-kick'd by you. - - Achilles answers: Surely this is - A rare long speech, my friend Ulysses! - And in return I'll give you for't - A speech that, be it long or short, - Shall speak my mind--for may I sink, - If I'll say aught but what I think! - Though, if your friends expect to see - A single grain of help from me, - Tell 'em, as sure as there you sit, - They're most abominably bit. - Who one thing speaks and thinks another, - Though he were born of my own mother, - Should I not use him right, I ask all, - To d---n him for a scoundrel rascal? - And therefore all the Greeks you'll find - Will hardly make me change my mind. - On their account when Troy I spank'd, - You see how finely I got thank'd, - Your scoundrel chief must get a-stride on - The only tit I had ride on, - But on a bible book I've swore - Never to do so any more; - Ev'ry poor heartless rogue you'll stand by, - Rather than Monckton, Hawke, and Granby; - For, when a brave man tumbles down, - You'll help a scoundrel up as soon. - Pray what the devil have I got - For all the rogues I've sent to rot? - Just like that careful bird the tit, - Who never tastes a single bit, - But still keeps picking worms and scraping - Till ev'ry tit gives over gaping; - Such pains for thankless Greece I've taken. - And sav'd their measly pocky bacon; - Kept all their loving spouses' plackets - From being trimm'd by Trojan jackets; - Watch'd all the night in heavy buff, - And work'd all day at kick and cuff; - Twelve farmers' huts and barns I plunder'd, - And should, if there had been a hundred: - That thick-skull'd whelp, your gen'ral Blunder, - Came in of course for all the plunder, - Began to fill his paunch the first, - And guttled cheese-cakes till he burst: - Two dozen down his throat he switches, - Then ramm'd two dozen in his breeches. - Besides, he ev'ry kettle got, - Except one lousy porridge-pot. - And one fat wench so rarely fed, - Her cheeks as well as hair were red. - My men that fought, and won the stake, - Like those that did th' Havannah take, - Receiv'd from this great chief of Greece - 'Bout twelve or fifteen pence apiece; - He likewise gave, with much ado, - A little to the captains too, - But not so much, by far, as will - Pay half their sneaking taylors' bill; - The rest, like A****, he sent - To his own hoard; yet, not content, - His idle hours he could not pass - Without my carrot-pated lass. - Let him the buxom dame enjoy; - But what's our quarrel then with Troy[3]? - You all were sensible before - We're only fighting for a whore: - Don't wonder then, if for a harlot - You see me drub that thieving varlet. - Must Atreus' sons all wenches seize, - And trim 'em when and where they please, - Whilst we, who all their prizes won, - Must thank 'em for a butter'd bun? - Mean sneaking scrubs may go on still, - But seal my day-lights if I will! - A heart that's made of standard bullion - Will love his wench although a scullion; - Nay, though he takes a rag-mop squeezer, - He ought to do his best to please her. - I lik'd the girl, and, on my life, - Us'd her as though she'd been my wife; - And, may I never drub the French, - If I'd have parted with the wench, - But Pallas came down stairs, you know, - And order'd me to let her go! - But, once deceiv'd, I'll tell you plain. - I'll never trust a king again: - He's wrong'd me in the dearest part, - And from my soul L---d d---n his heart! - This is my mind; to mend the job - Let him consult your busy nob; - Where you can't lend a helping hand, - The devil would be at a stand. - But why the pox should he want me, - When I such mighty works can see, - With wondrous ramparts and a trench? - Surely his engineers were French! - The Greeks could never raise such works, - They'd baffle a whole host of Turks; - And yet he fears, as I conjecture, - They cannot keep out swagg'ring Hector: - When I along with Ajax steer'd, - Then no such bullying work appear'd; - These fighting Trojans kept their gates up, - And very seldom popp'd their pates up - Above their wall, but then were fain - To pop 'em quickly down again. - The mighty Hector ventur'd once - Without the gates, but sav'd his sconce - By running back into the town, - Or, by my soul, I'd crack'd his crown! - And had I still look'd sharp about, - He ne'er again had ventur'd out. - Now we no more shall think of fighting, - But soon as th' morning brings some light in, - If we can catch a leading gale, - You'll spy my lighters under sail, - And the third day, by three o'clock, - Don't fear to reach to Puddle Dock, - Where there's no doubt but we shall find - The heaps of goods I left behind, - Some rusty kettles, pots, and pans, - And half a dozen copper cans. - To these I'll add what I got here, - Earn'd by my labour plaguy dear, - With all my square-stern'd thumping jades, - By people here call'd country maids. - I lik'd but one above them all, - And that your scoundrel gen'ral stole: - Then tell him thus, and do not fear ye - To speak that all the Greeks may hear ye, - Let them all hear I call their chief - A lousy, pilf'ring, blackguard thief! - Had he but his deserts, I know - He would have swung five years ago, - And yet I've hopes to see him still - Ride in a cart--up Holborn-Hill; - For, by my soul, the rascal's knav'ry - Designs you wooden shoes and slav'ry. - Keep you but honest, and I'm sure - The scoundrel dog will keep you poor; - Although the rascal dare as well - Fetch my lord B---th's black soul from hell, - As venture into any place - Where I may see his ugly face-- - For, if he does, by G-d, I'll fell him! - And that, Ulysses, you may tell him; - And add, I neither will collogue - Nor fight along with such a rogue. - Let the poor dog, since Jove deprives him - Of sense, run where the devil drives him: - A man may be bamboozled once, - As I was, by a thick-skull'd dunce; - But if again I let it pass, - Though he's the rogue, yet I'm the ass; - From sneaking rascals full of shifts, - Tell him Achilles scorns all gifts; - Nay, though he promis'd me the whole - His rogu'ry has from others stole, - I'd rather stand to see him undone - Than have the running cash of London, - Whose money, judg'd by what they spend, - Can surely never have an end; - Yet could the sneaking scoundrel ask all - That running cash for me, the rascal - Shall ne'er have my assistance, d--n me! - Nor any chance again to flam me, - Nor will I ever kiss his daughter, - Though H*** herself had taught her - The very motions maids at court - All know will make the finest sport-- - Nay, was she all in di'monds dress'd, - And had of things the very best, - Yet, rather than with him agree, - The second-best shall serve for me; - Sooner than he my pate shall flam, - I'll marry with the devil's dam, - For I'm resolv'd to sow no seed - On such bad ground; I hate the breed! - When I go home, if God spare life, - I'll get my dad to choose a wife; - My back and parts, I'm pretty certain, - Will recommend me to a fortune; - There's scarce a girl of Thessaly - But will be glad to jump at me. - With one of these I'll join my hand, - And stay at home and plow my land, - On Sundays a good dinner cook, - Then sit and read a godly book-- - The book where Solomon the wise - A girl from ev'ry nation tries, - And found, when all his strength was past. - It was but vanity at last. - Here I can likewise mend my writing, - And leave to fools the trade of fighting. - Pray, of what use are all our cattle, - If once we're knock'd o' th' head in battle? - Not the best purl that e'er was drank, - Nor all the money in the Bank, - Not Child's great chest, with all that's in it, - Will save your life a single minute. - We may recover money lost, - Or nags when stole, on paying cost; - But if your breath you once let slip, - The devil gets you on the hip; - And he was never known to let - A sinner once escape his net, - Except a fiddler[4] of the town, - That took a hurdigurdy down, - And made such cursed noise below, - Satan was glad to let him go; - Which gave old Handel[5] room to crack, - The devil soon would send him back: - But as we've never seen him yet, - 'Tis ten to one th' old fellow's bit. - Long since a gipsy told my fortune, - That I should be demolish'd certain: - If I stay here, my life 'twill curtail, - But then my fame will be immortal; - Ballads in print shall spread my fame, - And ballad-singers roar my name: - If I go home I change my fate, - And spin out life a longer date, - Like country 'squires lie warm and snug. - And snore a hundred years incog. - This course, my friends, will I pursue, - And so, if you are wise, will you. - Seek your own homes without delay, - Nor longer here for dry blows stay, - Where nothing can be got but raps - Upon your pates, or slaps o' th' chaps; - For Jove, I'll speak it to his face, - Defends this whoring Trojan race, - Heartens them on our boats to plunder, - But scares our shabby rogues with thunder. - And now I've told you all my mind, - Pray let your loggerheads be join'd - In consultation how to 'scape - Your present most unlucky scrape. - This string has snapp'd, but you, I know, - Have always two strings to your bow, - And yet you'll find, I don't dispute, - Some auger-hole to wriggle out: - This is the answer you may carry; - So march! but let old Phoenix tarry; - I think that he should have a tomb - To lay his grizzle beard at home, - Although the old curmudgeon may - Just as he pleases, go or stay. - - This speech of speeches ending here, - Like three stuck pigs it made 'em stare; - When Phoenix rose, but first he cried, - Then wip'd his nose, before he tried - A few persuasive words to speak; - But his old pipe was grown so weak, - He did not seem to talk, but squeak: - - O great Achilles! wilt thou fly, - And leave the Greeks like rats to die? - If you in anger trudge away, - How shall your old schoolmaster stay? - When thy good daddy Peleus sent - Thee first to join the regiment, - And bid thee stay, upon condition - I bought the very first commission - (For, to our scandal be it told, - Commissions are both bought and sold), - He sent me with thee, that I might - Teach thee to bully, whore, and fight-- - Three cardinal virtues, which a brave - And jolly captain ought to have; - Which, added to a little drinking, - Will always keep his nob from thinking; - For soldiers, if they thought aright, - Would sooner far be d--d than fight - For rogues, who, when they've lost a leg, - Will hardly give them leave to beg. - But yet I always did pursue - Your father's plan in teaching you, - And flux me if I leave you now! - Not if the gods would lend their mill - To grind me young, or Doctor Hill - Would promise to keep off old age - With the grand tincture of red sage. - Then would you hear me, thrice a week, - Make chambermaids by dozens squeak. - My dad so old, he scarce could move, - Yet, with a pox, must fall in love; - My mam begg'd hard that I'd outwit him: - I did, and got the girl--so bit him. - But the old Heathen swore and curs'd, - As if his very gall would burst; - So far his passion crack'd his brain, - He pray'd I ne'er might stand again; - And sure I am, as you are there, - The devil help'd his wicked prayer. - I was damn'd vex'd, a man may swear, - To find myself so very queer, - That though I did on jellies sup, - I ne'er could make affairs look up, - And thought, so prone are we to evil, - To send th' old rascal to the devil; - But some kind goblin stay'd that thought, - So all my anger came to nought. - Then I would fly, aye, that I would, - Let all my friends do what they could: - Nine suns they watch'd me night and day - On the tenth eve I ran away - With a blind tinker, whose good metal - Had mended many a crazy kettle, - But grown less able now to trudge it, - I undertook to lug the budget; - And thus with eighteen-pence a-piece, - We took our travels through all Greece. - Many a merry day we pass'd, - And weather'd many a bitter blast, - And many a merry night, when tipsy, - We pigg'd in straw with each a gipsy: - At last, without a single sous, - We reach'd your daddy's old farm-house, - Who did to stay with him persuade me, - And dry-nurse to his son he made me; - Gave me a sal'ry for my keeping, - And patch'd the calf-crib up to sleep in. - Finding I had a taste to rule, - He made me master of a school, - To teach, as I could do it well, - The farmers' chub-fac'd boys to spell. - And 'faith your dad I amply paid - By making you so fine a blade-- - Though you cut such a puff, d'ye see, - You'd been a noodle but for me. - That I my time could ne'er employ - On a more hopeful loving boy - Is true, and nought but truth I'll say; - It made me chuckle ev'ry day - To hear the little varlet mutter, - Unless I cut his bread and butter; - Often upon my knee he'd doze, - And puke his milk upon my clothes, - Which I rubb'd off as soon as done, - As if the lad had been my son: - I thought, or may the dry pox rot me! - The devil had at last forgot me, - And, spite of my old father's curse, - I was thy dad, and not thy nurse: - You'll hardly think the joy I had - In rearing such a hopeful lad. - Come, don't be cross, but dry our tears, - A valiant heart no malice bears; - When man repents and turns from evils, - He moves all hearts except the devil's; - Therefore, if you don't take our part, - You've got the devil of a heart. - The wicked Jews themselves once sent - Such prayers as made their god repent-- - Prayers made him do it, though he knew - They were a cursed wicked crew, - And would, before the week was spent, - Make him on t'other side repent: - Our prayers are slow because they're lame, - For which the parsons are to blame, - Who might have taught us to repeat - Prayers with much better legs and feet, - Howe'er they make a shift to follow - Injustice with a whoop and hollow. - Although this fiery headlong madam, - Injustice, 'mongst the sons of Adam - Makes cursed work, yet prayers can heal - The mischiefs that she makes them feel: - And he that won't their voices hear, - Jove often makes him pay full dear; - For then at private man or king - He lets Injustice take her swing, - And, that no mortal may resist her, - Lends her a lawyer to assist her. - Then cease, my boy, to curse and swear, - And hear our lamentable prayer: - Had not the gen'ral made submission, - May I be sous'd to all perdition, - If I'd have spoke a single sentence. - In hopes to bring thee to repentance! - For, had not Fortune, ever fickle, - Now left him in a stinking pickle, - Not twenty guineas, I assure you, - Should make me plead against your fury; - But since he offers you so fairly, - And decks his presents out so rarely, - And since these curious things, d'ye see, - Are sent by no less man than me, - I would not have you shun the offer, - You'll ne'er refuse a better proffer; - And, lest you fail to nick the joint, - I'll just relate a case in point: - - Upon a steep and rocky mountain - Stands Calydon, beside a fountain; - Th' AEolians strove to take the rock, - And awarded many a bitter knock - From the Curetians; thus they hourly - Kept basting one another purely: - 'Twas Cynthia's doing all: but whether - She set 'em by the ears together - For cheating her of some good suppers, - Or bumping one another's cruppers, - Like Sodom's sons, I can't, I vow, - Explain that matter clearly now; - But something set her so agig, - She sent a monstrous great he-pig, - That swallow'd ev'ry thing he found - Either above or under ground, - Tore their potatoes up by th' roots, - And all their apple-trees to boots, - And made no bones of sheep or geese, - But swallow'd feathers, horns, and fleece-- - This pig, no matter where 'twas bred, - Dick Meleager knock'd o' th' head; - Then all the bumpkins round came in, - And box'd like devils for the skin, - Brought out their pokers, spits, and ladles, - To gain the skin to make 'em saddles. - The bold Curetes, who had fully - Resolv'd to baste this kill-pig bully, - Got rarely 'nointed; then he swore - A bloody oath he'd fight no more, - But go and lead a quiet life - With dame Alcyone his wife. - Idas, her father, though a civil - And well-bred man, would box the devil; - Marpasa was her mother's name, - A handsome jolly country dame. - Now that trim singing rogue Apollo, - This Idas' handsome wife did follow, - And one dark foggy night, when all - The family were out of call, - Jumbled her up against a wall. - Finding no help was nigh her, she - For that time took it patiently: - But, because Idas did not choose - To be a quiet Cheapside spouse, - And let him round his freehold range - To do his bus'ness whilst at 'Change - I mean the business of his wife-- - He plagu'd poor Idas all his life. - Very fine principles, you'll say, - Their godships had that time o' day; - For, bad as we are all, 'tis true, - They're thought vile rogues that do so now. - But Alethea, though his mother, - Because he chanc'd to kill her brother, - With cursing such a noise did keep, - He could not get a wink of sleep; - Legions of fiends her curses drew, - She curs'd till all the ground look'd blue, - And set up such a shrill-ton'd yell, - They plainly heard her voice in hell; - Her curses gave him such a diz'ness - It made him quite neglect his bus'ness, - And spend his mornings, noons, and nights, - At Mother Welch's, or at White's. - Etolia, woefully oppress'd, - And to the last degree distress'd - By foes all round, entreats his aid, - And sent a swingeing long parade - Of aldermanic wigs and gowns, - Collected from the neighb'ring towns; - And, for a wonder, he that led - This sweeping train had got a head: - They begg'd he'd come, with piteous tones, - And break their adversaries' bones, - And would he prove a good peace-maker, - They'd freely give him fifty acre - Of as brave land as ever bore - A pile of grass, or crow flew o'er: - But in these times they durst not mention - So vile an epithet as pension. - His father came and made a bow, - And all his sisters curtsy'd too: - The cursing dame before him stood; - But, as for her, he damn'd her blood, - As any man of spirit would: - His wife came last, and rubb'd her eye, - Then tun'd her pipe, and join'd the cry; - Told him, if he won't come away, - The devil soon must be to pay-- - So fast, says she, the ruin spreads, - There soon must be a smash of heads; - For when the men's hard heads are smack'd, - The maiden-heads will soon be crack'd, - And all the virgins in the town - Expect they shall be ravish'd soon: - If therefore you'll this time preserve 'em, - At any time they'll let you serve 'em, - And promise that they will not squeak, - Though you should ravish ten a-week: - But they would have you take great care, - You do not touch a single hair - Of Polly W-dc-k, lest some quack, - With brazen face and conscience black, - Should swear that he can tell by th' mark, - Whether you kiss'd her in the dark, - Or by broad day-light, and if she - Kick'd hard, or took it patiently. - - At this he grasp'd his stick, and soon - Broke all their bones, and sav'd the town. - But 'cause his coming was so tardy, - These same Etolians grew fool-hardy; - And though he say'd both priest and church, - They left their saviour in the lurch; - Just as the bishops left their maker, - And shunn'd the passage through Long Acre, - 'Tis dang'rous, cries each wary chap, - To venture through the Devil's Gap[6], - The houses on both sides are all - So old, that, like the Duke, they'll fall, - And crush, perhaps, each reverend sot - That runs where nothing's to be got; - And Satan, always on the watch - The sons of any church to catch, - Dines rarely when his cook can dish up - A rev'rend brawny well-fed bishop. - - But to return: From this great strait - Pray help us ere it be too late; - Your arm will stand us in no stead - After we all are knock'd o' th' head; - Assist us, therefore, ere we faint, - And you shall be a popish saint. - I ask'd the Pope if he knew where - To find a day from saintship clear? - He answer'd No, but he would make - Some shift or other for your sake; - Not doubting but amongst the crew - To find a bigger rogue than you-- - If so, says he, 'twill be no sin - To kick him out, and put you in. - - Achilles then returns this answer: - My ever-honour'd nurse and grandsire, - You know I'm us'd to make a shift, - And therefore want no bribe or gift: - If Jove and I are cater-cozens, - The Greeks may hang themselves by dozens! - If he thinks fit, I here will lag - As long as I a toe can wag, - Or go wherever he shall lug me, - But your old pate shall ne'er humbug me; - Therefore no more attempt to bubble - Your loving friend, and give him trouble, - For such a rogue as that Atrides, - A scoundrel dog, whose greatest pride is - To cheat and pilfer all he can, - And plunder every honest man! - I little thought, old friend, not I, - You could for such a rascal cry; - Whether small beer or ale we drink, - My friend like me should always think; - In this 'tis honest to collogue - To hate a dirty sneaking rogue; - The very fellow that would do - Mischief to me, would hamstring you, - Because, when Peleus dies, he knows - Half of my farm and cattle goes - To you by promise.--So, Ulysses, - Go tell your spitfire gen'ral this is - My firm resolve, at break of day - Either to stay or go away.-- - - Then orders, as these words he said, - A pan of coals for Phoenix' bed. - Now, you must know, this fine oration - Put Ajax in a bitter passion; - Blast my old boots, says he, but this is - A mighty pretty job, Ulysses! - We're sent by our wise-looking owls, - Only to make us April fools: - See what we've got for all our pain! - Rot me if e'er I'll cringe again! - No speech that we can make will stir him, - Were we to stay till doomsday for him: - Therefore 'tis proper we should go, - Whether they like his words or no, - And tell our friends the fine pallabber - That we just now have heard him jabber-- - I'm sure that they, this foggy morn, - Are gaping hard for our return; - You see he is on mischief bent-- - Such harden'd sinners ne'er repent: - His cronies and old secret-keepers - He minds no more than chimney-sweepers; - Yet, smite my eyes! if any other - Should in a squabble lose a brother, - All the amends that's in folks' power - Is made, and people, ask no more! - If an own father lose his son, - As very oft, God knows, is done, - Should the damn'd rogue who did the deed - Chance to be rich enough to bleed - A good round sum, and comes to shake it, - The people make the father take it. - The hardest hearts but thine relent, - And money makes a judge repent; - But Jove has given thee a heart - Made of a plank of Pharaoh's cart: - One wench was stole, but what of that? - He offers seven full as fat, - And fatter too, for all these wenches - Have broader buttocks by some inches, - With flesh so firm, without a hum, - I'd undertake upon the bum - Of any of those girls (d'ye see?) - To beat a march, or crack a flea. - Come then, and be of better temper, - And don't be cross and sulky semper, - Else we shall say you give a bit - Of roast, and baste us with the spit; - Which sure must vex us to the heart, - Because we always take your part-- - So much, that when poor scoundrels rail - At your cross phiz, we seldom fail - Either to knock the rascals down, - Or with a broomstick crack their crown-- - A rare short method I found out - To finish any long dispute. - - Achilles thus: My bully rock, - Of all the Greeks the boldest cock, - In a bad cause you beat by far - Pitt's speeches for a German war: - But it won't do, a man's that's wise - Will never be humbugg'd by lies. - Such lies as from his tongue were sent - To hum the British P---------. - Besides, there's nought can vex me worse - Than to refuse my good old nurse: - But when that fellow's name I hear, - Spite of my guts my tongue will swear, - So much the rascal does provoke me, - My passion rises fit to choak me, - And would, but that we Grecians are - Such sons of freedom that we dare, - Like English mob, do any thing, - Blaspheme our God, or d--n our king. - The usage I have had much worse is - Than Oxford scholars use hack-horses: - Cheated, because he chose to rob me, - And now sends you, my friends, to bob me. - But flux my hide if you shall do it! - I knew the dog would live to rue it! - Then tell the whelp, and tell him plain, - I'll never lift my hand again - Till Hector and his roaring crew - Have thump'd your sides all black and blue; - When all your boats in flames are crackling, - I'll stir to save my own old tackling; - And whilst with joy the Trojan chuckles, - Just then I'll make him feel my knuckles. - - At this he put the mug about, - And begg'd they'd see the liquor out. - To keep their souls from growing dull - Each took a pretty hearty pull; - Then swash'd the leavings of that round - For a libation on the ground-- - A method I have heard folks say - Our chairmen use to this good day. - This done, they made a bow, and went - Full speed to find the gen'ral's tent. - - In the mean time a strapping jade, - Achilles call'd his chamber-maid, - Spread on the ground for this old sinner - Some sheep-skins borrow'd from a skinner, - Of blankets then she brought a pair - Full of great holes, and quite thread-bare, - But yet they were, though bitter bad, - The very best Achilles had; - Howe'er, to keep th' old Grecian snug, - From her own bed she spar'd a rug, - With bugs, and grease, and sweat so full, - It kept th' old soul as warm as wool; - For he, in less than half an hour, - Began to crack, and snort, and snore, - So loud, I'll take my oath the sound - Was heard at least a furlong round. - - Achilles, maugre all his roaring, - Kept the best room himself to snore in, - Where stripping off his clothes with speed he - Whipp'd into bed to Diomede, - A Yorkshire girl, whose awkward motion - So pleas'd the whelp, that I've a notion - He better lik'd to sleep with her - Than the fat jade they squabbled for. - Patroclus' bed was warm'd the last, - And he his nights in pleasure pass'd - By a fair maiden's side call'd Iphis, - Where no such jars as with a wife is: - This girl was well content to share it, - And took it just as he could spare it; - For early in the morn she never - Cry'd, Lord! my dear, you'll sleep for ever! - - Now Ajax and Ulysses put - The best leg forward to the hut, - Where the old soakers still kept drinking - To drown all cares care--comes by thinking: - Each man with glass in hand they found, - Standing to drink one bumper round; - One bumper more to crown the rest, - In English call'd the very best; - But, though the meaning is the same, - In Greek it bears another name; - I think my master, Doctor Busby, - Us'd to pronounce it polioflusby. - Great Agamemnon spy'd 'em coming, - And bid 'em speak, and not stand humming, - On this sly Ithacus replies, - Smite all my limbs, and blast my eyes, - If such a fellow e'er was seen - As your queer fellow where we've been! - The more we pray, the more he swears, - And grins to see us hang our ears. - Because you said we should not want - His aid, he vow'd he would not grant - To such a noisy brangling whelp - As you, a single grain of help; - And swore, unless it was your brother, - On earth there was not such another - D---d blackguard scoundrel left alive-- - The rest were hang'd in forty-five: - But what need he for help to call, - Whose clapper can outscold them all? - For when his tongue has once begun, - He'll make a Thames-street fish-wife run. - King Solomon himself doth say - A scolding woman any day - Can drive an enemy away: - Now he that can in any weather - Outscold a dozen brims together, - Can surely make that Trojan whelp, - That Hector, run without my help; - Therefore i' th' morn when up you get, - Depend you'll see my mainsail set, - And if you've any prudence, you - Will hoist your lighters mainsail too; - For Jove, I speak it to his face, - Defends this whoring Trojan race: - He'll save these rascals from a scouring, - Because they, like himself, love whoring. - - These were his words, what more appear'd - Both Ajax and the beadles heard; - But Phoenix in his tent he keeps, - Where for this night th' old fellow sleeps, - Though in the morn, he told us so, - He'll give him leave to stay or go: - Then added, Though you should escape - Without his help from this d----d scrape, - And save your hide from being bang'd, - He hopes to live to see you hang'd. - - Ulysses ceas'd: the congregation - Seem'd in a dreadful consternation; - Their eyes show'd nothing but the whites, - Like Wesley and his Culamites; - A look of horror spread all o'er 'em, - As if they saw hell-fire before 'em, - And Satan with a sable pack - Of long-tail'd devils at their back. - Ready with pitchforks to begin - To push them all by dozens in;When - up the bold Tydides sprung, - And in a twinkling found his tongue - (No stamm'ring orator would do, - A nimble tongue was wanting now): - So wild the Greeks began to stare, - He saw there was no time to spare; - So sprang up nimbly from his seat, - And found at once his tongue and feet: - - Why should we sneak, and beg, and pray, - As if we had no other way? - This man with pride will crack his guts, - To him our prayers are eggs and nuts; - And to proud puppies, I am clear, - The more you pray, the more they swear. - Have you not done, Sir, all you can do - And pray what more can Ferdinando? - Let him, since so much wrath attends him, - Sit sulky till the devil mends him; - Let him, since it belikes him well, - Stay where he is, or go to hell! - We have it in our power to show - Well do as much as men can do: - Therefore, to put us in good plight - For boxing, let us drink all night, - Boose it about to drown all sorrow, - Boxing will make us cool to-morrow. - Soon as the sun the welkin graces, - He'll find a sun in all our faces, - Painted so red with humming ale, - We'll make his fiery face look pale; - The god will stand amaz'd to think - Such virtue lies in mortal drink; - Nor shall he catch us without coats, - But looking sharp before the boats: - And you, Atrides, in the front - For once must stand and bear the brunt; - For once, I say, we hope you'll do't, - It is not oft we put you to't. - - This speech produc'd a mighty shout, - Whilst Diom. push'd the mug about: - They drank; then, rolling on the floor, - Began like aldermen to snore. - - - - [1] Thrasymede. - - [2] This Grimstone is a preaching shoemaker, and as fine a fellow as -either of the other two brimstone-merchants; but less known, because he -is confined to a small circle in the country. - - [3] Pope. - - [4] Orpheus. - - [5] Handel, to make as much noise as possible, introduced cannon into a -concert. - - [6] Through the Devil's Gap was the way to the Duke of Newcastle's. - - - - - THE TENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - Finding that no Achilles comes, - Poor Agamemnon bites his thumbs; - And though his heavy eyes kept winking, - He could not steal a nod for thinking - How he from this unlucky scrape - Might with his ragged rogues escape: - For as says he, our woeful pickle - Requires that ev'ry man should stickle, - Why should our Grecian lazy dogs - Keep snoring like distillers' hogs, - Whilst I for gen'ral good am watching, - And flaying all my rump with scratching? - So up he gets, sans more ado, - And sends the cuckold Menelau - To bring their comrades all together, - That they might club their noddles, whether - They ought, in this great strait, to stay, - Or take good start and ran away. - A council call'd, they send from thence - Two spies, to <i>steal</i> intelligence; - And <i>steal</i> they did for, by their prize, - You'd swear he sent two Yorkshire spies, - For, after stealing sev'ral purses, - They stole a special pair of horses. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK X. - - - - The Greeks, though sorely drubb'd all day, - Asleep before their scullers lay-- - All but poor Agamemnon, who - Could only nod a spell or so. - Distracted with a thousand fears - How to get off and save his ears, - His fears did such a rumbling keep - Within his guts, he could not sleep. - As when a barrel of small-beer, - No matter whether foul or clear, - Begins to leak, drop follows drop - As fast as wanton schoolboys hop: - So quick this valiant Greek kept sighing. - At last he fairly fell a-crying; - Then, with a face of rueful length, - Peep'd up to spy the Trojans' strength; - When, to his wondrous great amaze, - He saw a thousand bonfires blaze, - And heard so plain the Trojans f--t, - It vex'd him to the guts and heart - To think the rogues were got so near, - That he their very ----s could hear; - Which sound he hated full as much - As Britons do the belching Dutch. - Whilst he was grunting in dispute - To hang himself or fight it out, - He almost lugg'd, at one smart pull - A pound of carrots from his skull; - But finding that did little good, - He fell to praying as he stood. - Just as his second prayer begun, - Thinks he, By G-d, we're all undone, - If Nestor can't the Trojans nick - By some old square-toe'd slipp'ry trick! - On which he wrapp'd his calf's-hide in - A jacket made of lion's skin, - And then put on a pair of shoes, - Such as St. Giles's statesmen use, - With scarce a sole to keep out weather, - And forty holes i' th' upper leather. - - His brother likewise found his tripes - Most sorely twisted with the gripes, - Because the very Greeks that came - To fetch away his light-heel'd dame - Were drawn into so bad a lay - They could not fetch themselves away - To think they'd got in such a trap, - Disturb'd the honest Spartan's nap: - So out of bed in haste he got, - And quickly found the chamber-pot, - And whilst he made a little water, - Took time to think about the matter; - For his schoolmaster, Peter Ashley, - Had taught him to do nothing rashly. - When this important job was done, - He put his greasy breeches on; - Next button'd, underneath his chin, - A very fierce-look'd leopard-skin; - Then took a broomstick in his hand, - And trudg'd away along the strand - To call his elder brother up; - When, lo! he found the squabbling tup - Rear'd up against his lighter's side - Twisting a string, with which he tied - A rusty hanger to his side. - - To him the Spartan thus began: - What makes you put your dudgeon on? - D' you think of sending out some spy - This dark and dismal night, to try - Whether the Trojans watch are keeping, - Or pay great idle whelps for sleeping? - But who the pox d'ye think will mote - This dismal night? Not I, by Jove! - The hardiest rogue in Fielding's gang, - At such a task an a--e would hang. - - The king replies: O Menelaus, - I fear these Trojan rogues will pay us - Both scot and lot for all our tricks, - And baste us with their crabtree sticks. - When cases, like our case, are bad, - The best of counsel must be had: - Therefore, besides both ---- and M--n, - Above all things secure us N----n: - Unless he's for us, d--n my blood - If Beelzebub can do us good: - For if on t'other side you place him, - You know the devil cannot face him: - And Jove, you see, denies us help, - But lends it to that Trojan whelp. - Would ever man believe that one - Could smoke us all as he has done? - But yesterday that blust'ring scrub, - What heaps of serjeants did he drub! - The Sun, before his link went out, - Saw how he kick'd us all about; - And yet, like yours and mine, the bitch - His dam was never thought a witch; - Nor is his dad, that queer old cur, - A wizard, or a conjurer: - Yet unborn Greeks, before they're gotten, - Shall wish the rascal dead and rotten, - Because his laming all our nation - Will make a limping generation. - Don't stand a moment to consider, - But send me bully Ajax hither; - Next hasten to Idomeneus, - And hurry him away to see us: - To Nestor I will go before ye; - He's telling some long trimtram story, - Such as at any time he'll make - To keep the drunken watchmen wake; - For that's his task to-night, and there - I'm sure th' old cock will show his care; - But more especially that entry - Where Merion and his son stand sentry. - - Thus spoke the king; and Menelau - Replies: Pray, brother, when I go, - And all your orders safely carry, - Must I return, or must I tarry? - - Tarry, be sure, replies the brother, - We else shall miss of one another; - The night is rather thick than clear, - And candles are excessive dear; - The very last half-pound we bought - You fetch'd yourself, and paid a groat. - Resides, our lantherns were, you know, - All broke to shatters long ago; - But we must shift without 'em. Now, - What I would recommend to you - Is, all our ragged rogues to cheer, - Tell 'em what whelps their fathers were: - For us, since things so bad are got, - We e'en must work, or go to pot; - Jove has decreed that man must labour, - And kings by chance must help their neighbour: - In former days 'twas often done, - But now as often let alone: - Necessity has driv'n me to't, - Or I'd as soon be hang'd as do't. - - Away then Agamemnon goes: - But first he clapp'd within his jaws - A plug of Hobson's best tobacco, - Then found old Nestor in a cracko; - Stretch'd in his hammock snug he found him, - With clubs, oak-sticks, and broomstaves round him; - Like an old coachman, who, unable - To drive, yet loves the smell o' th' stable, - Th' old firelock on his guard did keep, - A sprite, called Fear, prevented sleep; - He lean'd his head upon his hand. - And call'd aloud, Plague on you, stand! - Say, who the pox are you that keep - Strolling about whilst folks should sleep? - Perhaps you're some poor hungry thief, - Whose nose has smelt my leg of beef: - If so, you've nos'd it mighty soon, - 'Twas only bak'd this afternoon. - Or do you hunt some other prey, - Or seek some sentry run away? - Be who you will, it will undo ye - If I should make the moon shine through ye. - - Then Agamemnon thus replies: - I'll tell thee all without disguise; - And thou, in whom our nation glories - For telling Canterbury stories, - Shalt hear a tale as lamentable - As any thou thyself art able - To find in all thy endless budget; - With patience listen then, and judge it: - For curs'd ill fortune now astride is - Across the back of poor Atrides; - And Jove resolves, though e'er so stout. - With rubs and cuffs to wear him out; - On my tir'd knees my body rocks, - My heart against my liver knocks; - On fifty things I poring keep, - But cannot get a wink of sleep, - And find myself so plaguy queer, - I'm neither easy here nor there, - But dying with the mullygrubs - Because the Greeks have met such rubs. - Now, if thy cunning nob should teem - With any pretty likely scheme, - How to repair this last day's scrubbing, - And save us such another drubbing, - Give us your good advice with speed-- - A friend in need's a friend indeed-- - And then, old buff, we'll go together - To hearten those who're watching whether - These damn'd infernal Trojan tartars - May not by night beat up our quarters. - - Th' old cock replies, I've often said it, - You must give Jove a little credit; - He's sometimes cross, but, all together, - He best can rule both wind and weather: - This Hector, though he hector now, - God help his soul! what will he do - When bold Achilles comes to fight him? - I'll answer for't, he'll soon b-sh-te him. - Be that as't may, just here I stand - Your humble servant at command; - But let us summon for this bout - Some other bucks to help us out; - That canting lying rogue Ulysses, - At such a woeful pinch as this is, - Will help us greatly with his cunning; - Then bold Oileus, fam'd for running; - There's Meges too, a strong-back'd whelp, - With Diomede, will lend us help. - But let some other spark, d'ye see, - With nimbler heels than you or me, - Run to the other end o' th' fleet, - And call the constable of Crete, - With bully Ajax, or some other: - I'll rouse that drowsy whelp your brother, - And hear what lame excuse he'll make - For snoring when he should awake. - Now, as these broils were of his brewing, - He ought to do what you are doing, - Should keep himself upon the peep, - And share in work as well as sleep; - For, at this dreadful pinch of pinches, - We all are lost if one man flinches. - - To whom the king: Without dispute - You're often right, but now you're out; - My brother is, to speak the truth, - A very modest, harmless youth, - And ne'er presumes to take the lead, - Because he knows that I'm the head: - But when his leader shows the way, - He's always ready to obey. - You blame him oft, which you are right in, - For loving whoring more than fighting, - Although 'tis what we all delight in. - But yesterday's confounded scramble - So made his great and small guts wamble - He could not lie in bed, not he, - So up he got, and call'd on me; - Then posted forward, with intention - To rouse the very whelps you mention; - And whilst we idly here are prating, - I'll hold a tester they are waiting - At th' alehouse underneath the wall, - Where I a council bade them call, - And speak some hot-pots for us all. - There they may sit secure and snug, - The watchmen for a single mug - Will look so sharp, you need not fear 'em, - They'll let no Trojan rogues come near 'em. - - Hot-pots! says Nestor. By Apollo, - If that's the case, we'll quickly follow: - I'll in a twinkling put my coat on: - These jobs, the moment they are thought on, - Should be perform'd as soon as told, - Or else the hot-pots may grow cold. - - With that his gummy eyes he washes, - And cas'd his legs in spatterdashes, - Then on his arms began to pull - An old red waistcoat lin'd with wool; - And ere he left the tent he took - A sapling of the toughest oak. - Then through the drowsy crowd he pass'd, - And call'd Ulysses out in haste; - Ulysses starting heard his voice, - And ran to see who made such noise. - - Old dad, says Ithacus, I'm sorry - To find your beard in such a hurry; - You must be in a woeful fright - To wander out so late at night; - Those scoundrel rogues of reformation, - The pest of ours and ev'ry nation, - Durst hardly, though so vile a crew, - Disturb so grave a man as you. - - When Nestor answers: Our bad station - Requires indeed a reformation: - But though thy cunning pate, Ulysses, - To trace out knowledge seldom misses, - In whatsoever shape she dwells, - As folks guess eggs by seeing shells; - Yet now you're plaguy wide o' th' mark: - For, let me tell you, ev'ry spark - Of rogu'ry in your crafty nob - We want to mend this last day's job; - All the calves' brains that Jove e'er gave us, - Must be employ'd this night to save us. - We must, 'fore George! before 'tis day, - Resolve to fight, or run away: - And if it should be found, upon - A consultation, we should run, - As I am fearful we must mog off, - The sooner then, my friends, we jog off - The better; for when folks depart - Incog. they always choose good start. - - The moment that Ulysses heard - This speech from honest grizzle-beard, - He turn'd upon his heel, and went - To fetch his pot-lid from his tent, - Made of a curious old coach-pannel, - Painted without, and lin'd with flannel; - Then join'd the noble captains twain, - And trotted with them o'er the plain. - Quickly bold Diomede they found - Close by his tent, upon the ground, - With all his bloods and bucks around: - But that no man would trust him much, - The figure of his crew was such, - You'd think the chief had got a pack - Of bailiff's followers at his back. - In spite of fear they slept secure, - A mile, at least, you'd hear 'em snore; - Around the circle stood a row - Of broomstaves, stuck upright for show. - The honest Grecian, void of pride, - Lay snug upon an old cow-hide, - And for a pillow roll'd a piece - Of linsey-woolsey brought from Greece; - Old goody Nestor with his foot - Gave him a d---d hard kick o' th' gut - To wake him, but could hardly do't; - Then halloos to the snoring tup: - For God's sake fall a-getting up! - How can you lie, you sleepy dog, - Snoring like Farmer Blake's fat hog? - Whilst all your comrades, though they're drunk so, - Can't get a wink of sleep they funk so - Because Troy's rogues on yonder hill - Can lug your ears just when they will. - - Tydides, in a mighty pother, - Pull'd one eye open, then the other; - Then to old grey-beard 'gan to swear, - D--n your old soul! what brought you here? - If 'tis resolv'd no man shall sleep, - But ev'ry buck on guard must keep, - Send younger puppies to awake 'em, - Your gouty legs can't undertake 'em; - They sleep so sound that you must kick 'em, - Or take a corking pin to prick 'em. - - Nestor replies; My friend, d'ye see, - I thank you for your care of me: - I might, I know, have got my son - To do what I've at present done, - Or, if no better could be had, - They offer'd me the butcher's lad; - But matters now so bad are grown, - That we no noddles but our own - Can trust; affairs are out of joint, - We stand upon a needle's point, - And therefore each in this disaster - Must show himself a balance-master, - Like Prussia's king; for in this jumble - If we don't stand we're sure to tumble. - Yet, as you think I'm grown too old - To trudge about in nights so cold, - So soon as you have don'd your brogues - Jog off, and rouse the other rogues: - Thy nimbler heels may useful be; - Serving the state, is serving me. - By different roads men serve the state, - Some ply their heels, and some their pate: - When jobs are doing for the court, - And statesmen fear that ayes run short, - Some loon's employ'd t' amuse the house - With a fine speech not worth a louse, - Asks if the king bestow'd that post on - A proper man, to make the most on - The pious canting knaves at Boston; - Or if the India Company - This year must pay another fee; - Whilst S--l--n's nimble heels begin - To fetch the ayes by dozens in, - Searches all holes, you need not fear him, - And ev'ry bawdy-house that's near him, - Takes no excuse, but makes them limp in, - And leave all bus'ness, though they're pimping. - - [Illustration: Book X, page 232. - Away to Meges' tent he steers, - And laid fast hold on both his ears, - Gave his cod's-head a hearty shake, - Then kick'd the lesser Ajax 'wake.] - - He said; when lo! the valiant knight - Jump'd from his cow-skin bolt upright; - Then with a wooden skewer did pin - Across his back a shaggy skin, - Which he had plunder'd in great wrath - From an old lion starv'd to death; - Then grasp'd a cudgel in his hand, - And scour'd full speed along the strand. - Away to Meges' tent he steers, - And laid fast hold on both his ears, - Gave his cod's head a hearty shake, - Then kick'd the lesser Ajax' wake, - Help'd 'em to fumble on their shoes, - Then hied to the place of rendezvous, - A penny pot-house, known by all, - And by 'em call'd the Hole i' th' Wall. - - And now the chiefs approach'd the gate - Where twenty ragged sentries sat, - A sharp look-out the knaves did keep, - Fear would not let them fall asleep. - Thus have I seen, if right I judge it, - A cur-dog guard a tinker's budget; - The thief to steal the budget tries, - Yet cannot gain the weighty prize: - Turn as he may, do what he will, - The mongrel guards the budget still: - Just so these loons at ev'ry sound - Would whip their eyes and ears around; - Though the least noise did so affright 'em, - It made the better half besh--e 'em. - Old Nestor joy'd to find 'em wake, - And each man by the hand did shake; - Though, had his nose been worth the keeping, - He soon had smelt what barr'd their sleeping: - However, at his usual rate - The good old soul began to prate: - - My boys, says he, if thus you watch, - These Trojan rogues will meet their match: - But if you slack your hands a jot, - I'll venture to be hang'd or shot - if ev'ry soul don't go to pot! - - Just as he spoke, this queer old bitch - Gave a great jump across the ditch; - His comrades follow'd on a heap, - Some straddled o'er, but most did leap-- - All but great Ajax, slow and stout, - He tumbled in, then rumbled out: - Last Merion came in mighty fuss, - Join'd with that whelp Antilochus. - A place they found, which all that day - Had shar'd but little cudgel-play, - The very spot, as we conjecture, - Where Mistress Night stopp'd bully Hector; - And had he not been so o'ertaken, - Nought could have say'd the Grecians' bacon - Nor would he, since he'd got his hand in, - Have left a single Grecian standing: - No other spot on all the plains - Was free from blood, and mud, and brains. - Here they sat down, when Nestor's tongue - Its usual kind of larum rung. - - Is there, says he, a heart of oak - 'Mongst us, is there a bully rock - Dares steal into the Trojan camp, - Without the aid of link or lamp, - To seize some straggler in the dark, - Or listen, and their counsel mark, - Whether they think we've got enough, - Or still design to work our buff? - This could he learn, and tell our peers, - And safe return with both his ears, - What an amazing share of glory - Would fall to him in future story, - When good old wives shall tell the tale - O'er roasted eggs and butter'd ale! - Beside, his country would bestow - A quarter guinea, if not two; - And he should always have th' first cut on - Our Sunday's leg of rotten mutton. - - He spoke; when lo! the goddess Fear - Bid with so pale a face appear, - It made 'em look confounded queer, - All but the bold Tydides, who - Brawls out, By Jupiter I'll go, - In spite of your pale phiz, and try - What weighty matters I can spy: - Within my breast a spirit lies, - That tells me I shall steal some prize - Not such a spright as moves the quaker - To preach to sister Ruth, then take her - Into some private place and shake her-- - Mine is a knowing honest spright, - As true as Highland second-sight. - But though I'm not afraid, yet mind me, - A trusty comrade you must find me, - Because, by ev'ry fool 'tis known, - Two heads are twice as good as one: - When one stands forward, one abaft, - They spy all matters, fore and aft: - What's right ahead I need but mind, - My friend looks sharp to all behind. - Then if we fall into a scrape, - We help each other to escape; - When one poor thief goes out alone, - I've known him like a devil run, - And burst himself, before he feels - There's nought but conscience at his heels: - But when there's two, we know for certain - A scoundrel can a scoundrel hearten. - If that's the case with thieves, pray then, - What won't it do for honest men? - - The moment this harangue was done, - Up jump'd the captains ev'ry one: - For, as one man was only wanted, - That each would 'scape they took for granted. - I'll go, says bully Ajax, d--n me! - And I, says little Ajax, slam me! - Cries Merion, with a furious nod, - I'll venture my calf-skin, by G-d! - Then roar'd out chatt'ring Nestor's son, - Sowse my old pluck but I'll make one! - At which the cuckold Menelau - Shrugg'd up his breeks, and swore he'd go. - That crafty dog, Ulysses, knowing - Great odds would be against his going. - Puts on his fighting face, and cries, - I'll take my chance, boys, smite my eyes! - When thus great Agamemnon bellows, - Now, by my soul, you're clever fellows! - But the bold Diomede himself - Must point us out what sturdy elf - Will likeliest be to stand the test, - And back his knotty pate the best. - Therefore, sans favour and affection, - Take thou, my boy, thy own election; - 'Twixt man and man, pay thou no def'rence, - Nor give to any lord the pref'rence, - Unless it suit thy own accord, - But not because he is a lord; - For you, as well as I, can scan - Ribands and stars can't make a man; - A lord will never prove your friend. - Unless you can yourself defend; - If you're in want of help, he's sure - To bid his porter shut the door. - The gen'ral thus his fears did smother, - Lest he should choose his loving brother. - - Then thus says Diomede the steady, - My lord, I've made my choice already; - Nor think my judgement much amiss is, - When I declare I choose Ulysses. - They tell me I have spunk enough, - But he can plot as well as cuff, - Which makes the Trojans more afraid - Of his queer noddle than his blade. - Guarded by such a bold defender - I'll face Old Nick, or, if he'll send her, - Get twins upon the witch of Endor. - - Ulysses cries, My friend, hush! hush! - You'll make a modest fellow blush; - None but a courtier, or his Grace, - Can bear such praising to his face. - But whilst we chatter thus and prate, - We never dream it grows so late; - White streaks the blueish sky do wrinkle, - And the north star begins to twinkle; - If any thing we think of doing, - 'Tis time, by Jove, we should be going. - - No sooner was it said than done: - They whipp'd their greasy buff-coats on; - When Thrasymede, a man of note, - A potlid and a broomstick brought, - Which he the varlet Diom. lent; - Then for an old church-bucket sent, - With dirt and mouldy grease o'erspread; - This serv'd to case his leather head. - Ulysses next was fitted out - With a tough broomshaft for this bout; - When Merion, that he nought might lack, - Hung him a bow upon his back; - And then, to guard his paper skull, - Lent him a cap well lin'd with wool, - A cap made wondrous fine before, - With two grim tushes of a boar-- - This skull-cap, though not worth a louse, - Was stole by one Autolycus - From rich Amyntor, and the knave - The prize to Amphidamus gave; - To Molus, Amphidamus lent it, - And he to valiant Merion sent it; - By Merion it was given now - To guard this sly old soaker's brow. - - Away they went, though half bepist, - And trotted through a thick Scotch mist; - When, from the middle of a bush, - With noise and flutter, out did rush - A bird, so large and fierce, it made - This pair of bully Greeks afraid: - - [Illustration: Book X. page 242. - When, from the middle of a bush, - With noise and flutter, out did rush - A bird, so large and fierce, it made - This pair of bully Greeks afraid.] - - Though 'twas so dark they could not 'spy - What bird it was by th' naked eye, - Yet quickly, by the voice they heard, - 'Twas a Scotch nightingale that scar'd - Their valiant hearts so much, that they - Had turn'd about to run away; - When sly Ulysses, vex'd to th' soul - To be so frighten'd by an owl, - Like a queer rogue did quickly start up - A special scheme to keep his heart up, - Swore it would be a lucky night, - Because she took a turn to the right-- - Had she to the left hand made a ring, - He still had sworn the self-same thing. - But here we do not find he stopp'd, - For on his kneppers down he dropp'd; - Then, like a canting knave in town, - Cock'd one eye up and t'other down. - - Daughter, says he, of thund'ring Jove, - Who holds you all in awe above - (For, did he not the scales keep even, - You'd out o' th' windows throw all heaven), - Thou who hast aided my escape - From many a bitter bang and scrape, - Assist us, whilst this night we roam - To steal and carry something home! - That Trojans yet unborn may rue - The loss of goods they never knew. - - Then Diomede began to pray, - But spoke just as a man may say: - Daughter of Jove, began he too, - Why may'nt I say my prayers to you, - As well as this queer dog Ulysses? - Who, I've a notion, never misses - To pray for aught that he may want, - Because you seldom fail to grant; - And therefore, as he leads the way, - I'll try a spell how I can pray, - Though, being us'd so little to't, - I shall be damn'd hard switch'd to do't; - And would much rather, you are sure, - Box a whole week than pray an hour.-- - But stop--ahem, I have it now: - Daughter of thund'ring Jove, as you - Did often help my little dad, - I hope you won't forsake his lad; - For when to Thebes he took a walk - With their chief constable to talk-- - He went ambassador from Greece - To make, or else to patch, a peace; - For in those days, our records show, - Peace might be patch'd as well as now; - But though he spoke in peaceful fashion, - They quickly put him in a passion, - On which he drubb'd those foes to Greece, - And gave them two black eyes a-piece-- - Now, as thou didst my father help, - Pr'ythee assist his hopeful whelp, - And, by my soul, as I'm a sinner, - I'll ask you to a handsome dinner; - I'll kill a cow both fat and good, - And you shall have the guts and blood! - - Thus Diomede, though hard put to't, - A middling prayer at last made out; - And Pallas, be it plain appears, - Listen'd to both with her ears. - Then, like two hungry half-starv'd cats, - Who long to be amongst the rats, - They crept, as if they trod on eggs, - Through heaps of mangled arms and legs. - - Now Hector, from the close of day, - Was looking sharp as well as they, - And would sleep none, you need not doubt him, - And call'd his bloods and bucks about him; - When thus the mighty Trojan Broughton - Began a speech they little thought on: - My lads, says he, I would not wrong ye, - But, I'm afraid, there's not among ye - A brave bold-hearted buck that's willing - To risque his ears, and earn a shilling - By looking sharp among these fighters, - And learn what's doing in their lighters; - Spy if a proper watch they keep, - Or like good city watchmen sleep; - What resolution is begun, - Whether the rogues will stand or run? - By him that rolls the rumbling thunder! - I'll give him choice of all the plunder: - Himself shall choose from all the rest - The cart that suits his fancy best. - - Just as he spoke, their eyes were all on - A simple youngster fix'd, called Dolon, - Who was, they say, the only lad - The usurer Eumedes had; - But he had five fine girls beside, - As any man would wish to ride.-- - The boy had carts and horses store, - And yet the bastard wanted more: - Though he was not so handsome quite - As Molly ----'s catamite, - Yet he had got (I scorn to wrong 'em) - The longest pair of legs among 'em. - - Hector, says he, and puff'd his cheeks, - I'll go among these sweaty Greeks: - But hold your broomstaff in your hand, - And swear to grant me my demand; - For you must know, good Sir, my will is - To have the horses of Achilles, - And his fine cart with painted rails, - All stuck with spanking great brass nails: - Say but the word they shall be mine, - I'll quickly smoke out their design; - I'll steal, by such temptations led, - Under their gen'ral's truckle-bed. - - His broomstaff then above his head - Great Hector flourish'd, whilst he said: - Be witness thou, whose rumbling thunder - Makes wicked reprobates knock under, - Drives the vile scoundrels, helter skelter, - To ale and cyder vaults for shelter, - I promise, ere the Greeks we fall on, - To give these nags to honest Dolon. - - Thus Hector swore: but Jove, they say, - Was looking then another way; - Whether some bullock's guts were burning, - And he that way his head was turning; - Or saw some ruddy country lass - That took his eye so much, he was - Contriving how to get a grope-a, - Or bull her, as he did Europa-- - Be that as't may, his chuckle head - Heard not a word that Hector said. - - Howe'er, the lad prepar'd to pack, - So slung his bow across his back, - Then o'er his narrow shoulders tied, - To keep him warm, a grey wolf's hide: - A brown fur cap, well lin'd within - With rabbit or else weazle's skin, - Serv'd his misshapen pate to grace, - And cover'd half his weazle face: - With an oak stick he grop'd the track, - And went--but never yet came back. - - A mile he walk'd not, nor three quarters, - Before he met this pair of tartars: - Ulysses, that sly lurching dog, - Heard first, and gave a gentle jog - To Diomede; then whisp'ring cries, - Flux me! but both my ears tell lies, - If I don't hear a pair of feet - Come paddling this way to the fleet; - Some peeping whelp, like us, a-going - To see what t'other side are doing, - Or pilf'ring rogue stole out of bed - To pick the pockets of the dead. - Be what he will, we'll here lie snug, - Let him but pass, we have him rug; - Tor when we've got the heedless whelp - So far, he can't roar out for help: - If he should run, do you but follow, - I'll answer for't you'll beat him hollow: - But if he slips you in the track, - I'll stay and catch him coming back. - At this they stepp'd among the grass, - And stoop'd to let poor Dolon pass; - Go where he would, these sharpers mind him, - And follow pretty close behind him; - There was not, could the eye have seen 'em, - Above a rood of land between 'em. - Now Dolon heard a sort of humming, - But thought some messenger was coming - To fetch him back: but soon the lout - Began to smell the rascals out-- - Smell 'em, I say, because they tell us - The Greeks were dev'lish sweaty fellows, - Therefore no wonder he so well - Could nose 'em by their frowsy smell-- - On which a strong desire he feels - To trust his good old friends, his heels. - Away the long-legg'd varlet flew, - Whilst they, like staunch old hounds, pursue; - Cut short the ground he scamper'd over, - And met him as he made to cover; - And thus, in spite of all his heels, - They drove him 'mongst the Grecian keels. - When Pallas came to Diomede-- - Says she, You run a hellish speed: - But this same spark, if I speak true, can - Run half as fast again as you can, - And, if a race you longer hazard, - Split me but he will burst your mazzard! - Then, when you've almost run him down, - Some other Greek will crack his crown. - - At this he roars with threat'ning hand: - You cursed dog, if you don't stand, - The moment that your long legs fail ye, - Blast my old slippers but I'll nail ye! - His trusty broomstaff then he threw, - Which over Dolon's shoulder flew, - But whizz'd so as it pass'd his ear, - It stak'd him to the ground with fear. - Trembling he stood a dev'lish odd piece, - Whilst his teeth chatter'd in his c--piece; - The bullies, almost burst with trying - T' outrun him, came and seiz'd him crying. - - Blubb'ring, he roars, You see I wont - Run any more; so pray ye don't - Hurt a poor hopeful harmless lad, - And, I can tell you, my old dad - Will give you each a half-peck hopper - Brimful of excellent good copper-- - None of your Birmingham affairs, - Nor any such-like shabrag wares, - But good new halfpence from the mint, - With honest George's face in print. - My daddy all the copper handles - That we receive for soap and candles, - Picks out the good ones from the pack. - And turns the Birminghams all back; - Or, if by chance a few are taken, - He pops 'em off for cheese and bacon. - - Uly, whose ears would bear no stopper - When money chink'd, although but copper, - At present makes this queer reply: - Be bold, my cock, don't fear to die: - But tell us why, instead of sleeping, - You choose to spend your time in peeping. - Did Hector's bribes set you a-going - To find what business we were doing? - Or by yourself, whilst all are snoring, - You're got upon some scheme of whoring? - Or are you some poor lousy soul, - Sprung up from Hockley in the Hole, - Come to steal waistcoats from the dead, - To pawn for porter, cheese, and bread? - Tell us, my boy, and tell us true, - And then you'll see what we shall do. - - Whilst Dolon took some time to pause, - His grinders rattling in his jaws, - With doleful phiz at last he speaks: - I'll tell you all, thrice worthy Greeks! - 'Twas Hector, curse his pimpled face! - That sent me to this luckless place; - He promis'd me, confound his brags! - That pair of flaming pye-bald nags - Achilles bought of Farmer Saul: - He promis'd me the cart and all. - Those damn'd brass lacquer'd nails that shine, - And made his cart so flaming fine, - Tempted my loggerhead to come - And leave a good warm bed at home, - Only to find if Madam Fear - Had made you run, or kept you here; - Or if there was a chance of snapping - A proper time to catch you napping. - - Body o' me! Ulysses cries, - You ask'd the devil of a prize; - How could'st thou be so strangely flamm'd? - Thou drive his horses? thou be d--d! - Did you not know, you stupid elf, - No man alive, except himself, - Can either drive his tits, or catch 'em? - Bever himself could never match 'em. - But he can stop 'em with a twitch, - 'Cause got upon a water-witch; - Had he been mortal man, I know, - They'd broke his neck some years ago. - But, if you'd have me your protector, - Say where the great kill-devil Hector - Goes ev'ry night to drink a pot; - How many geldings has he got? - For, whilst the drunken ostlers nod, - We'll steal 'em if we can, by G-d! - Where do the other captains sleep? - How many watchmen do they keep? - But tell us truly, whilst you're doing, - What kind of mischief they are brewing; - Whether they'll stay to cut our throats, - And burn our crazy rotten boats, - Or think 'tis better to employ - Their strength to guard their whore's-nest Troy. - - Thus spake Ulysses; and this Dolon, - Whom these two rogues design'd to fall on, - Cries, like a coward son of whore, - I'll tell you all the truth, and more: - Upon a grave-stone near yon farm, - Kicking their heels to keep them warm, - I left the captains all with Hector, - Clubbing their pates, as I conjecture, - How they may rid the Trojan shores - Of all you Grecian sons of whores: - As to the watchmen, a small share - Are thinly scatter'd here and there, - And e'en those few that watch should keep, - Like city watchmen, soundly sleep, - The Trojans guard the sentry boxes, - For fear the Greeks should trim their doxies; - But all the foreigners, who're come - To help us, left their wives at home; - For, as one woman caus'd the rout - That all this mischief is about, - Should we our wenches bring, think they, - The devil then will be to pay; - For mischief's never in perfection, - Unless when under their direction: - Therefore in leaving them, we find, - They left their greatest plagues behind, - And now they sleep as free from care - As if your Greekships were not near. - - Then, says Ulysses, tell, I pray, - Where do these sleeping fellows lay; - Amongst the Trojans do they snore, - Or by themselves along the shore? - - I'll tell you all, replies the spy, - And how their raggamuffins lie: - The Peons first, who shoot their arrows - So true, they hit tom-tits or sparrows; - The Carians, sharp as wolves or falcons - At beef and pudding; then the Caucons - With the Pelasgians, hardy mortals - At drinking punch, and eating turtles-- - A task that they perform so well, - All corporations they excel; - By them great **** would be beat in - Both guzzling punch, and turtle-eating. - As for the Leleges, they lie - Along the shore; and pretty nigh, - A little higher, snores the Lycian, - With the Maeonian, and the Mycian. - Quite snug, near Thymbra's old mud wall, - The Phrygian horse are there; and all - The Thracians pig in by themselves, - A set of roaring, sturdy elves, - That came last night, led on by Rhesus, - A fellow twice as rich as Croesus: - In your born days you never saw - Such milk-white tits, they beat the snow; - With silver all his cart is grac'd, - And his buff jacket double-lac'd. - Now you have heard my mournful ditty, - I hope you'll spare a little pity; - Keep me in limbo till you try - If I don't scorn to tell a lie. - When bully Diomede replies: - May Hector knock out both my eyes - If I've a grain of pity now - For such a sneaking rogue as you! - Should you escape us both to-night - Such rogues as you will never fight, - But sure as eggs, whilst folks are sleeping, - We both again should catch thee peeping. - - The moment that these words he said, - He from his shoulders whipp'd his head, - Which at that time for grace was seeking, - So as it fell continued speaking, - And even on the ground lay mutt'ring, - And for a minute good kept sputt'ring; - But chang'd its tone, and with an oath - Bid the great devil fetch them both. - - Quickly these champions made a snap - At both the grey wolf's skin and cap: - Whilst Diom. seiz'd his bow and stick, - Ulysses did his pocket pick, - In which he found a silver penny, - But, 'stead of owning he found any, - He set his roguish plotting head - To work, to cheat poor Diomede. - - Tydides, says this face of gallows, - One day as I held chat with Pallas, - She told me, maugre all her care - Her goat-skin coat was worn threadbare, - She therefore would be much my debtor - If I another coat could get her. - As for her part, she does not care - Whether I get it in Rag-Fair, - Or Monmouth-Street, or any where, - So it comes cheap, for times are now - As hard above stairs, as below; - Not one of all the royal pages - But wants six quarters of his wages, - Occasion'd by a thriving band, - That keep the money in their hand. - Now, since the goddess is hard set - A coat of any kind to get, - What better can she have than these? - Which we'll present her, if you please. - - Then, without waiting a reply, - He pray'd, and upward cock'd his eye: - Broughtonian queen! receive these goods, - And do not leave us in the suds, - But help us now to mind our hits, - And boldly steal these Thracian tits, - Nor suffer any Trojan scrub - Thy true and trusty 'squires to drub. - If they should come before we've done - The bus'ness we are now upon, - Do you but keep the whelps in play, - And we'll take care to run away. - 'Twill only be a grateful deed - To help us in this time of need, - Because of all the sky-bred crew - We say our prayers the first to you. - - With sapient face, so saying, he - Hung the wolf's hide upon a tree, - Though not so high but he could reach it-- - Pallas, he knew, would never fetch it; - Then scatter'd reeds along the track, - To help to guide their rogueships back. - - Now o'er the field they skulk away, - Like bailiffs hunting for their prey: - They found the Thracians in a trench, - Snoring like judges on the bench; - A broomstaff lay at each man's side, - And to their carts their nags were tied. - The luckless Rhesus soon they spy - Amongst his raggamuffins lie; - His two brave geldings, fit to start - For thousands, stood behind his cart. - Ulysses, ever quick of sight, - Was first to see th' unlucky wight; - Then, pointing to his comrogue, cries, - See there, my boy, a tempting prize! - Rhesus, the cart and horses too, - Are planted fair within your view: - Besides the jerkin lac'd with gold, - Of which we were by Dolon told, - I'm pretty sure, before we part, - That one of us may steal the cart: - If you don't feel your courage lags, - Kill you the loons, I'll steal the nags. - - He said; and Pallas, never slack - At mischief, clapp'd the whelp o' th' back; - On which the rascal fell to kicking, - Slashing, and cutting throats, and sticking, - With a long Dutchman's knife, that he - Had bought to play at snickersnee: - Where'er the varlet walk'd or stood, - He made the ground all wet with blood. - Just so the cat that guards the house, - Leaps from the dresser on a mouse, - Pots, pans, and kettles, all give way, - Till puss has seiz'd the trembling prey; - Just so this dog pursu'd his luck, - Till he'd a dozen Thracians stuck. - Ulysses, as his friend did stick 'em, - Behind a cock of hay did kick 'em, - For fear, he said, the horses might - At dead men's bodies take a fright; - But the true reason was, the elf - Could pick their pockets by himself - And that he did; but, by the by, - 'Tis only known to you and I. - Now, having murder'd twelve, at last - They found poor Rhesus snoring fast; - Pallas had sent an ugly dream, - Wherein a Dutch-built thief did seem - To shake a snickersneeing knife, - And swear he'd have his purse and life: - All this he dream'd, old Homer knew, - But never wak'd to find it true. - - Ulysses quickly seiz'd the bits, - And bridled both the flaming tits; - Leading them out, to make 'em go - He smack'd their buttocks with his bow: - Though the whip hung where he might reach it, - He durst as well be hang'd as fetch it, - But tipp'd the sign to Diomede - To come away with all his speed. - - Now he was standing to consider, - And think about the matter, whether - To stick more men, which he could do, - Or steal the cart and jacket too. - Pallas, who saw him thus dispute - Within himself, in haste roars out, - Pray what the pox are you about? - Enough in conscience have you done, - And split me but 'tis time to run! - In jobs like these the man that lingers - Is sure at last to burn his fingers. - - When Diom. heard Minerva say - That she would have him run away, - He knew she scorn'd her friends to banter, - So mounts, and pops into a canter; - For wise men oft exert their might in - Running away as well as fighting. - Ulysses with his bow-string flogging - Took care to keep these cart-tits jogging. - - Apollo, who was Hector's friend, - Had seen this jade from heav'n descend, - And guess'd it was for no good end; - He saw the bitch, by mischief led, - Help this damn'd rogue, this Diomede, - To murder honest folks in bed; - Which vex'd him so, he whipp'd him down, - And wak'd the trusty Hippocoon, - Who came on Rhesus to attend, - And was his coz. as well as friend. - The moment that this loving cousin - Awak'd, he saw a baker's dozen - Of Thracians kill'd, and, what much worse is, - The rogues had carried off the horses. - At this poor Hip. began to cry, - And wring his hands most bitterly; - For all he sobb'd, but Rhesus long - Remain'd the burden of his song: - Had the damn'd dogs that came to fleece us, - Says he, but spar'd my cousin Rhesus, - I'd not have lent 'em twenty curses - For stealing half a hundred horses; - But since they have my cousin struck, - May all their schemes have damn'd bad luck! - And to spin out their life in pain, - Pray G-d they ne'er may sh-te again! - - Whilst Hippy mumbles out this prayer, - The Trojans flock about and stare, - Wond'ring what rascals had been there. - In the mean while these Yorkshire dealers, - By London juries call'd horse-stealers, - Kept flogging both their tits away, - To reach the place where Dolon lay: - Ulysses stopp'd, and begg'd Tydide - Would 'light, and fetch the grey wolf's hide, - With arrows, bow, and staff, and all - They had from long egg'd Dolon stole. - This done, their nags away they spang, - Like thieves pursu'd by Fielding's gang. - Old Nestor was in woeful doubt, - And therefore kept a sharp look-out; - So, when the thieving rogues drew near 'em, - No wonder he was first to hear 'em: - And hear 'em Square-toes did for sure, - For thus th' old buff began to roar: - - Lay but your ears upon the ground, - And, if you do not hear the sound - Of horses galloping this road, - Call me a stupid queer old toad! - Some geldings they perhaps have stole, - (I wish they may with all my soul!) - And now perhaps are rattling come - In triumph with their booty home; - Though 'faith I can't help looking blue; - Pray Jove my fears don't prove too true! - But I'm afraid they may be watch'd, - And by that means be overmatch'd; - And then my fine-laid scheme's abolish'd, - And both their knotty pates demolish'd. - - These words old buff had hardly said, - But up the varlet Diomede - Came puffing, like the trainband guard - After a march of fifty yards; - Ulysses follow'd; off they jump - Upon the ground with such a bump, - They made it rattle with the thump. - Their comrogues shook them by the hand, - With, Well, and how do matters stand? - We funk'd a little, 'faith and troth, - Lest we should lose you one or both, - And 'gan to look confounded blue, - Both for ourselves, as well as you. - - But silence call'd, the queer old Greek, - Who always claim'd first turn to speak, - Began this speech: Ye sons of thunder, - Pray tell us, in the name of wonder, - Where you purloin'd these nags, which I - Suspect ar'n't come at honestly? - As sure as Helen is a punk, - You've found some whoring god dead-drunk, - Or fast asleep, so stole these nags, - Which beat Apollo's all to rags. - I'll take upon my oath to swear - He never yet had such a pair, - Though he's obliged, or lose his pay, - To run his hackneys ev'ry day; - And therefore, in discretion, ought - To have the best that can be bought. - Though I am old, yet, strike me stiff, - And dry me for a mummy, if - In all the lands I've travell'd o'er - I ever saw such nags before! - But speak the truth, if on the road - You did not fudge 'em from some god, - As we all know, when once you're set - On thieving, nothing 'scapes your net, - And Jove himself, and Pallas too, - Have help'd your roguish tricks ere now. - - When Ithacus begins to chatter: - Old dad, says he, 'tis no such matter. - God gives us grace, and that of course is - Much better for our souls than horses: - But these grey nags were born in Thrace; - Their master to a better place, - Or worse, is gone, I can't say whether: - But bold Tydides sent him thither: - And with him a round dozen went - Of scrubs, that for his guard were meant; - And they have prov'd so very civil, - As guard their master to the devil. - But at our lucky setting out, - I should have told, we seiz'd a scout, - So judg'd it would be for the best, - To hell to send this prying guest, - To 'speak warm places for the rest, - Which we design'd should quickly follow, - Unless prevented by Apollo. - So Diomede the scoundrel led off, - And in a moment whipp'd his head off. - - This said, he took him up a switch, - And spank'd the horses o'er the ditch. - The rabble follow'd all the way, - Roaring Huzza! huzza! huzza! - And ne'er could get their wide mouths shut - Until they reach'd the gen'ral's hut. - There his old tits, not worth a guinea, - Welcom'd the strangers with a whinney; - Then, for a handsome sort of treat, - As oats were scarce, they gave 'em wheat. - - This done, Ulysses takes a trip - With Dolon's hide on board a ship, - Where on the stern-post did he stretch it, - Then bade Minerva come and fetch it. - By this rogue's trick, 'tis pretty clear, - He cheated Diom. of his share. - - Now in the sea, to keep 'em sweet, - They wash'd their dirty, sweaty feet, - And, to refresh them from their toil, - Their noses rubb'd with salad-oil; - And then, to give their stomachs ease, - Each cut a slice of bread and cheese: - But, as on Pallas first they think, - To her they fill th' first mug of drink, - Which gently on the ground they pour, - And bid her lick it off the floor. - But how she did, to me's a doubt - Which I could never yet make out. - And now these jovial lucky fellows - Chaunted Old Rose, and burn the Bellows; - Having great reason to believe, - The next time they went out to thieve, - This scratching brim, without dispute, - Would stand their friend, and help 'em out. - Joyful they dance, and sing, and roar, - Till they can sing and dance no more; - Then smoke their pipes, and drink, and funk, - Till every soul got bloody drunk! - - - - - - THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - The Grecian chief his jacket put on, - Though there was not a single button, - Either of horn, or metal cast, - Remain'd upon't, to make it fast. - Yet, as they could not do without him, - He tied it with a cord about him; - Not a grand swashy green or red cord, - But an old rotten piece of bed-cord; - Then don'd a pair of piss-burnt brogues on, - And went to lead his ragged rogues on;-- - Whilst Hector, ever bold and steady, - Soon got his trusty Trojans ready. - For signal, two celestial strumpets - Employ their tongues instead of trumpets. - Jove thunder'd too, but all the sound - In their superior noise was drown'd; - For such a din they made at starting, - His thunder sounded just like farting. - And now, whilst Agamemnon mauls 'em, - And with his crab-tree cudgel galls 'em, - Jove call'd for Iris, to direct her - To go and caution bully Hector - To let this Grecian bruiser roam, - Till some chance knock should send him home. - Then Hector makes a woeful rout. - And kicks the Grecians all about; - Whome'er he hit, he surely dropp'd him, - Till Diom. and Ulysses stopp'd him; - Stopp'd for a while, but 'twas not much, - For Diomede soon got a touch, - Which made the bully limp away, - And leave Ulysses in the fray, - Who got, unless the poet lies, - A broken rib and two black eyes; - When Menelau, and Ajax stout, - Came apropos to help him out. - Hector for Ajax went to seek, - But found his nob too hard to break. - Whilst thus each other's bones they whack - Paris--had almost lam'd their quack; - Nestor at this, without delay, - Drives both himself and quack away. - Achilles, who was looking out - To see what work they were about, - Sends his companion to inquire - What made old grizzle-beard retire. - The threshold he had scarce set foot on, - When Nestor seiz'd him by the button; - In that condition did he hold him, - Till he had two long stories told him, - How cocks and bulls, when he was young, - Would fight like devils all day long. - But still the aim of this old whelp - Was but to gain Achilles' help, - Or, if he would not come to blows, - To lend Patroclus his thick clothes. - Patroclus then his best legs put on, - Glad he'd so well releas'd his button, - And met Euryp'lus as he went - Limping along to reach his tent; - Though he just then was running faster - Than penny-postman, this disaster - Stay'd him till he had spread a plaster. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK XI. - - - - And now the Morn, with yellow locks, - From Tithon's hammock stuff'd with flocks, - Arose, to show both gods and men - That day was coming once again, - To glad the hearts of those with light - Whose conscience could not bear the night; - Lawyers, attorneys, bawds, and pimps, - Born to replenish hell with imps, - A race whose own reflection frets 'em, - And damns 'em ere the devil gets 'em; - When Jove, the constable of heav'n, - Willing to keep things pretty even, - A scolding quean, one Eris, seeks, - And sends her down to help the Greeks; - Her tongue he knew there was no holding, - She storms and tempests rais'd with scolding. - Away then flies the noisy witch, - With a long roll well soak'd in pitch, - The torch of discord call'd by Jove, - And all the people else above; - But if to me you'll yield belief, - 'Twas nothing but a lawyer's brief, - Drawn for the plaintiff, and at th' end on't - Was tied another for th' defendant. - This stuff the goddess Discord thinks - The best materials for her links; - So, long ago, has ceas'd to spin, - And buys her gear at Lincoln's-Inn. - One of these torches Eris drew - Along the sky as down she flew, - Which forty thousand sparkles shed, - And mark'd the road she came all red; - Then fix'd upon Ulysses' boat, - And there began to tune her throat, - Bawling a song to suit the case, - To which her bum play'd thorough-bass, - But made such thund'ring as she trump'd, - Both Ajax and Achilles jump'd, - Though their two boats could not be under - Three miles at least, or four, asunder. - Then through the fleet she inspires each chief, - And strews the ashes of the brief. - Such rancour now the varlets fills, - They all look'd fierce as Bobadils; - The rogues that readiest stood to run - As soon as slaps o' th' chaps begun, - Now d--n their eyes, and make a rout, - And strut, and kick their hats about. - Great Agamemnon first did start out, - And roar'd as if he'd roar his heart out; - Then set th' example, and begun - To put his fighting doublet on. - His legs he thought there were some doubts on, - So whipp'd a pair of large jack-boots on, - Borrow'd that morning by his surgeon, - Of Foote's bold-hearted Major Sturgeon; - Then went and fetch'd his basket-hilt, - And o'er his bosom hung a quilt, - A lousy quilt, although the thing - Was giv'n him by a brother-king; - Though from a king, says Doctor Swift, - A man may get a lousy gift; - But being stuff'd with rags and flocks, - It kept his stomach free from knocks. - On it was painted such a dragon - As few sign-painters e'er could brag on; - St. George's dragon on the sign - At Stamford, where they sell good wine, - Would, I am sure, compar'd to that, - Appear a common tabby cat. - O'er all he tied a belt of buff-skin, - Or doe, or tup, or some such tough skin, - Such as our northern carriers fold - About their loins to keep out cold. - A potlid hung upon his arm, - To guard his ribs from taking harm. - - [Illustration: Book XI, page 287. - And all around, in various places, - Were grinning chaps and wry-mouth'd faces; - But in the middle part, to make - The Trojans run, he plac'd a snake.] - - With brazen hoops and brazen centre, - That points of broomsticks might not enter; - On which a frightful head did grin, - Almost as ugly as Miss ----, - And all around, in various places, - Were grinning chaps and wry-mouth'd faces; - But in the middle part, to make - The Trojans run, he plac'd a snake - Gaping as wide as if he'd swallow - An ox, with horns, and guts, and tallow; - Which made the folks, when he did meet 'em, - Scamper for fear the snake should eat 'em, - Whilst he pursu'd, and thought they fled - For fear of his great chuckle head. - His leathern skull-cap, worn thread-bare, - He furbish'd up with horse's hair; - Then in his hand two broomstaves shook, - And look'd as fierce as he could look. - Thus arm'd complete, he march'd to fright 'em, - In hopes to make 'em all be---te 'em. - That instant, to increase the strife, - Jove's daughter and his scolding wife - A cannon-ball began to roll - In Jupiter's great mustard-bowl. - Whilst the machine they both were holding, - To mend the noise they fell to scolding; - This cleft the welkin quite asunder, - And made the Greeks believe 'twas thunder, - Which fill'd 'em with such fighting rage, - They push'd like Britons to engage. - The foot first hasten'd to the battle, - And after them the carts did rattle; - With such a roaring they begun, - Before his time they wak'd the Sun, - Who, hearing such a dreadful clatter, - Jump'd up and cried, Zoons! what's the matter? - But both his eyes being clos'd with gum, - From whence this roaring noise did come - He could not spy, till fasting spittle - Had op'd his gummy eyes a little. - Jove thunder'd too, for he was mad - To see the dogs so bitter bad; - And mix'd a shower of rain with rud, - To make 'em think it rain'd sheer blood; - Nor would he longer tarry near 'em, - But fairly left Old Nick to steer 'em. - - Near Ilus' grave, upon the hill, - Was Hector drinking bumpers still; - The grave-stone serv'd 'em for a table, - And there they drank till they weren't able - To stand, or, as our bard supposes, - To see each other's copper noses. - Polydamas partook the feast, - With a sly Presbyterian priest, - AEneas call'd--a rogue whose lights - Would show you nothing but the whites, - Whene'er he wanted to deceive you, - And helpless in the suds to leave you; - This he'd perform with such a grace, - You'd ne'er suspect his pious face. - Agenor, with his second-sight, - And Polybus, a simple knight, - Two brothers of Antenor's race, - Around the bottle took their place: - With Acamas, a boy that had - As few bad tricks as any lad - In all the town, although 'tis true - He was a Presbyterian Jew.-- - Pray what religion's that? say you. - I'll tell you, my good friend, anon: - A Presbyterian Jew is one - That likes engagements with the wenches, - But hates both gunpowder and trenches. - Hector a pretty girl was thrumming - When first he heard the Grecians coming, - And though twelve bumpers he had sipp'd up, - He soon his shield and broomstick whipp'd up, - Then quickly 'mongst the Trojans goes out - To make 'em turn their sweaty toes out, - And square their elbows: here and there - He frisk'd about, and ev'ry where, - Whilst streaming sparkles, as he pass'd, - From his broad metal buttons flash'd. - On Sundays view our Farmer Gooding - When he attacks a suet-pudding, - Slice after slice you'll see him cut, - And stuff within his gundy gut; - Whilst on the other side his man - Slices as fast as e'er he can; - With eager haste they slice and eat, - Till both their knives i' th' centre meet: - Thus Greeks and Trojans on a sudden - Tumble like slices of the pudding, - Give and receive most hearty thwacks, - Yet never think to turn their backs, - But scratch, and bite, and tear, and kick, - Like two boar-cats hung 'cross a stick. - - Discord, the wrangling lawyer's friend, - Did on this dreadful broil attend; - But all the rest above the moon, - Though they were willing, durst as soon - Run to Old Nick as venture down: - But though confin'd to keep their places, - They made abominable faces, - Whilst all the time their guts were grumbling - At Jove, for keeping Troy from tumbling. - Now he, good soul, was set alone - On his old cricket, call'd a throne, - Where, spite of all his wife could say, - He gave Miss Destiny her way; - Though now and then he squinted down - In great amaze, to see how soon - The varlets crack'd each others crown. - - Now, whilst the Sun was working still - To flog his hackneys up the hill, - Both parties fought with equal luck, - And furious blows on each side struck: - But at the time when sea-coal heavers, - With taylors' prentices and weavers, - Quit looms and boards, and leave their work - In search of scalded peas and pork-- - Just at that time the Greeks begun - To make some straggling Trojans run. - Atrides seiz'd that crisis too, - To let 'em see what he could do. - Quickly he crack'd Bianor's crown, - A smart attorney of the town, - Then knock'd his clerk Oileus down, - Who, when he saw his loving master - Get hurt, was coming with a plaster. - Atrides, whilst his hands were full, - Like a brave fellow, crack'd his skull; - Then of their jackets he bereft 'em, - And naked to the weather left 'em; - For which, depend, these sons of faction - At proper time will bring an action. - Now, whilst his hand was in, he runs - And meets with two of Priam's sons: - One was a bastard, got upon - The daughter of his ploughman John: - But, as we are inform'd, the other - Was got upon an honest mother, - Who would not let her maidenhead - Be touch'd till Christian grace was said; - But when that's done, e'en touch and touch, - No honest man can do too much. - These loving brothers, loth to part, - Had hir'd a Norfolk farmer's cart, - Where with great skill they did contrive - That one should fight, the other drive. - In former days they us'd to keep - On Sussex downs a flock of sheep. - Achilles, who, as you must note, - Commanded once a smuggling-boat, - To steal some sheep one night had landed; - And being then but slender-handed, - He went his thieving crew to call off, - And bid them bring the boys and all off; - Then made his dad for their release - Remit him three half-crowns a-piece-- - Money ill war'd, since they so soon - Were knock'd by Agamemnon down! - On the pert bastard first he press'd, - And lent him such a punch o' th' breast, - It made him in a twinkling kick up - His heels, and belch, and f--t, and hiccup; - Instant bestow'd he such a pat - Upon the brother's gold-lac'd hat, - That down he tumbled with a plump, - And bruis'd his thigh, and split his rump: - Then, flat as on the ground they lay, - He stole their hats and coats away. - With aching hearts the Trojans spy him, - But dare not for their guts come nigh him; - Thus shoplifts see their brothers taken, - But dare not stir to save their bacon. - Still furious on the foe he runs, - And mauls Antimachus' two sons-- - A sneaking rascal, who had sold - His vote in parliament for gold; - From whoring Paris taking pay, - He made a speech for Nell to stay, - And humbugg'd all the senate so, - They bawl out Aye, instead of No. - Now these two lads Atrides caught, - And drubb'd 'em for the father's fault. - They got a hard-mouth'd resty horse, - They could not stop with all their force, - But he would run, aye, that he would, - Just where this lighting Grecian stood; - The lads had pull'd the resty tup - Till both were tir'd, so gave it up; - On which the Greek their noddles peppers, - Till down they dropp'd upon their kneppers, - And, in a dismal doleful ditty, - Begg'd for an ounce or two of pity: - Good Mr. Agamemnon, spare - Two harmless lads, and hear their pray'r, - For which Antimachus will make - Such presents you'll be glad to take. - You need but send him a short note - You've stow'd us safe in your old boat, - And if he doth not think it proper - To send a stone of brass and copper, - We then will give you leave to beat us, - Or, if you please, to hash and eat us. - - Now, though the younkers made no noise, - But talk'd like very hopeful boys, - This harden'd rogue, before they'd done, - In a great passion thus begun: - If you're Antimachus's blood, - I'll drub your hides, by all that's good! - That scurvy mangey rascal would - Have kill'd my brother if he could, - With sly Ulysses, when from Greece - They came to fetch that precious piece, - That Madam Helen, whose affair - Has cost more lives than she has hair - Upon her head, or any where. - No prayers that you can coin shall speed - With me, to save such scoundrel breed. - On this he with a crab-tree stump - Gave poor Philander such a thump, - It made him tumble from the cart out, - And spew his very guts and heart out. - The brother finding him so tart, - He leap'd head foremost from the cart: - There, as he lay upon the sands, - The whelp disabled both his hands; - Then boldly seiz'd him by the snout, - And almost twined his neck about. - Whilst he continu'd these mad freaks, - He double-distanc'd all the Greeks: - Still he kept cuffing on, and swearing, - Whilst they kept wondering and staring. - So when the mighty bowl doth sally - From th' corner of a nine-pin alley, - Pin after pin by him is thrown, - Till the whole nine are tumbled down; - Just so Atrides in his passion - Tumbled 'em down in nine-pin fashion, - And drove about with such a rumble, - Whole squadrons either run or tumble; - Many a Trojan made he smart, - And emptied many a higler's cart. - The cart-tits, when without a guide, - Ran like bewitch'd from side to side, - Farted, and kick'd, and jump'd about-- - In short, they made such dreadful rout, - They hurt their Trojan friends much more - Than they had done 'em good before. - - Whilst the fierce Greek, where'er he flew, - Beat the poor devils black and blue, - Had Hector met this Grecian cock, - Depend upon't he'd got a knock; - But Jove took care he should not meet him, - Lest in his passion he should eat him, - But kept the Trojan's coat from stains - Of blood, and guts, and scatter'd brains. - Now Jove took all this care, I ween, - 'Cause Hector's coat was very clean, - Whilst ev'ry Greek in all the clan - Look'd like a butcher's journeyman. - - And now this furious fighting knave - Drove 'em like smoke by Ilus' grave - Amongst some fig-trees, where for shelter - They ran like wild-fire helter-skelter-- - Not with design to turn and rally, - But there they knew a dark blind alley - That led directly to the town, - Through which they ran like devils down. - Atrides ran as fast as they, - Roaring and bawling all the way, - Till he had made himself as hot - As Fore-street Doll's pease-porridge pot: - When, coming near the Scean gate, - He thought it would be best to wait - For further help; so held his stick up, - And stopp'd to take his wind and hiccup. - - In the mean time the Trojans ply - Their clay-burnt heels most lustily. - As when the constable and watchmen - Are on a party sent to catch men - Who have the day before been dealing - In what the justices call stealing; - Their phiz the thieves no sooner spy, - But all to reach the window try; - Their haste occasions such a jumble, - Head over heels the scoundrels tumble, - And wedge themselves so very fast, - The hobbling watchmen seize the last; - So did Atrides bounce and fick, - And always lent the last a kick: - Thus did he play the de'il and all, - Until he reach'd the Trojan wall, - Which his great fury did design - To tumble down or undermine; - When Jove sent such a shower of rain - As won't be quickly seen again, - And would have added thunder to it, - But could not get his lightning through it. - - At this he bawls, Come hither, Iris! - You see in rain so drench'd my fire is, - It cannot go as I design'd it, - To make yond' roaring scoundrels mind it; - And as for thunder, though they fear it, - They make such noise they cannot hear it. - Therefore, my girl, do you descend - And tell my honest Trojan friend, - Whilst Agamemnon thus keeps puffing, - I would not have him think of cuffing; - Let other people stop his flouncing, - Bold Hector need not mind his bouncing: - Small captains may his waters watch; - For Hector he's no more a match - Than penny bleeders to a surgeon, - Or Jerry Sneak to Major Sturgeon. - Tell him, although he makes such rout. - And kicks the Trojans all about, - In half an hour, I'll lay a groat, - He gets his teeth knock'd down his throat; - Then shall my bully Hector thwack 'em, - And I will lend a hand to whack 'em, - Till he has made them take long strides - On board their boats to save their hides-- - Drub 'em he shall from place to place, - Till Night pops up her blackguard face. - - At this the jade gave such a jump, - That some foul air within her rump - Came puffing with a thund'ring trump: - But letting fly too soon, we find - She drove so much unsav'ry wind - Up Jove's broad nose, he look'd d---d gruff, - And sneez'd as if he'd ta'en Scotch snuff. - These thund'ring puffs, let out so nigh - The sun, take fire as down they fly; - From whence 'tis evident that plain bow, - Which silly mortals call the rain-bow, - Is known by folks that view it nigher - To be a chain of farts on fire. - - [Illustration: Book XI, page 306. - Hector, says she, perhaps you'll stare, - To hear I come from Jupiter; - But so it is, believe it true, - He sends his compliments to you.] - - Hector she found amidst the fray, - Mounted upon a brewer's dray: - Hector, says she, perhaps you'll stare, - To hear I come from Jupiter; - But so it is, believe it true, - He sends his compliments to you, - And says, while Atreus' son keeps puffing, - He would not have you think of cuffing; - Let other people stop his flouncing, - You need not mind his brags and bouncing; - Small captains may his waters watch; - For you the whelp's no more a match - Than penny bleeders to a surgeon, - Or Jerry Sneak to Major Sturgeon: - And adds, that though he makes such rout, - And kicks the Trojans all about, - In half an hour, he'll lay a groat, - He gets his teeth knock'd down his throat. - Then Hector shall the Grecians whack, - And I will clap him on the back, - Till he has made each Grecian fighter - Scamper on board his rotten lighter: - Nor shall he cease the rogues to fright, - Till they're reliev'd by Mrs. Night. - Then, in a cloud as black as pitch, - She vanish'd like a Lapland witch. - - Hector no sooner heard this speech, - But up he started off his breech, - Leap'd from the dray in haste, and then - Gave two-pence to the brewer's men - To get a pint of stale, or strong, - Because they let him ride so long; - Then, with a broomstick in each hand, - He bid the scamp'ring Trojans stand; - Tells them, if now they box, they may - Run when they please another day, - And he'll run too as well as they. - When they heard this, the Trojans stout, - With one consent all fac'd about, - And seem'd resolv'd to box it out: - The Greeks, who hop'd they'd all been gone, - Stared when they found 'em coming on, - Cock'd their wide jaws in great surprise, - And fain would disbelieve their eyes. - Both sides begin to fight it o'er, - As if they'd never fought before; - Whilst in his passion, Atreus' son - Kept driving like a devil on, - And gave the Trojan sons of whores - Black eyes and broken pates by scores. - - Hopkins and Sternhold, lend me aid - To tell what work this whore's-bird made; - You, who king David's psalms were able - To write in verse so lamentable, - As made the fornicating king - Cry, when you meant to make him sing; - Where he repents, indeed, most ably - You made him do it lamentably! - Help me to some of your rare pickings, - That I may sing Atrides' kickings, - That in re-mem-ber-ance I may - Remain for ever and for aye: - Come on, bold boys, and make it known - What shoals of scrubs he tumbled down, - And whether 'twas a peer or groom - That tasted first his stick of broom. - - Iphidamas it prov'd, a swain-o - Got by Antenor on Theano, - Whose pasture being stock'd before - So hard that it would bear no more, - He thought it best to send the lad; - To Clifeus, the mother's dad, - Who farm'd on lease a little place - Upon a bleak hill-side in Thrace, - For which he paid the landlord clear - Three, or perhaps four, pounds a year. - For twenty years the good old rock - There fed him like a fighting-cock; - And then to use him to the Strife - Man's born to bear, he for a wife - Gave him his daughter: but the boy, - Hearing of boxing-bouts at Troy, - Was seiz'd with such desire to fight, - He listed on his wedding-night, - And left his wife, though thought a beauty, - Before he'd done an inch of duty; - By shipping to Percope went, - From thence by land to Troy was sent. - Thinking the time was now or never - For him to show off something clever, - From out the foremost ranks he jumps, - Resolv'd to fight this king of trumps. - Atrides, who full well did know - That in the first good hearty blow - Lay often more than half the battle, - Let fly his broomstick with a rattle: - The Trojan stoop'd, and whiz it went, - But miss'd his nob, where it was meant. - The youth then with great fury puts - His cudgel 'cross the Grecian's guts, - Which stroke he had severely felt - But for his greasy currier's belt, - Though he so much of it did feel, - 'Spite of his belt, it made him reel; - But when recover'd from the shock, - He lent him such a rare hard knock - Upon his crag, the luckless chap - Fell down and took an endless nap. - His wife, that such a fortune brought, - Two cows, six sheep, and one ram goat, - Thought hers a mighty grievous lot, - When she a maidenhead had got, - Neatly dish'd up as hands could make it, - Ready for him to come and take it; - But he, poor soul, was lying flat, - Whilst the Greek stole his coat and hat. - - Coon his bro. was pretty near, - And vex'd to th' heart, a man may swear; - It fill'd his liver with such sadness, - He roar'd and cried for very madness: - But though he wept full sore, we find - He did not weep himself quite blind; - But when the Grecian did not 'spy him, - He edg'd till he got pretty nigh him, - Then at the bully aim'd a knock, - Which gave his elbow such a shock, - It made his metal buttons jingle, - And both his wrist and fingers tingle. - The Greek was stunn'd, though not with fear, - But knew not, or to cry or swear; - Then whilst poor Coon guards his brother, - And covers this side, then the other, - Damning the Grecian for a whelp, - And roaring like a man for help, - The wary Greek upon his crown - 'Spy'd a soft spot, so knock'd him down-- - Down with a bang he tumbled plump, - And lay across his brother's rump. - - Atrides, now more furious grown, - Drives like a madman up and down, - Using all weapons clubs, or sticks, - Old broken piss-pots, stones, and bricks-- - In this condition on he blunder'd, - And lam'd or frighten'd half a-hundred. - Whilst he perform'd these pranks, his arm - Continued tolerably warm; - But when the blood began to settle, - And he was partly off his mettle, - The elbow stiffen'd with such pain - As made the bully grin again; - Knaves that are whipp'd for thieving cases - Could never coin such ugly faces. - With mighty pain and anguish fretting, - A dung-cart he was forc'd to get in: - But lest the foe should think he had cause, - He put a good face on a bad cause, - And bawls, O Grecian raggamuffins! - Stick stoutly to your kicks and cuffings! - I'll get a dram to ease my pain, - And in a twink be back again; - Jove will no longer let me fight, - But slam me if 'tis aught but spite! - - No sooner had he spoke, but smack - He heard the carter's whip go crack; - And crack it might, as these old hacks - For twice three steps requir'd six cracks; - Though, by great luck, this Jehu got - His geldings smack'd into a trot; - But as they both were touch'd i' th' wind, - They puff'd out clouds of smoke behind, - Whilst from their sides a lather run - Would almost fill a brewer's tun; - At last, when tir'd, and almost spent, - They brought him to his ragged tent. - - Hector look'd sharp, and quickly saw - This huffing, cuffing varlet go; - Then to his Trojans and allies, - To raise their mettle, thus he cries: - - Ye roaring blades, that scorn all fear, - Ye Dardans, and ye Lycians, hear! - Now is the time, boys, now or never, - Roar Wilkes and Liberty for ever! - Yon leader of the Scotch court-cards, - Call'd the third regiment of guards, - Has got some mischief in the fray: - I saw the rascal run away: - Besides, Dame Iris from above - Brought me some compliments from Jove: - Hector, says she, you must not shrink, - But pay the varlets till they stink; - Therefore you've nought to do but box, - I'll warm their jackets with a pox. - - The valiant Hec. with such-like speeches, - Forth from the bottom of their breeches - Pluck'd up their hearts as fast as could be, - And fairly plac'd 'em where they should be: - So the poor gard'ner cheers his dog - To seize and sowl his neighbour's hog, - Claps him o' th' back until he tears off - The ugly grunting pilf'rer's ears off, - Boiling with rage, because the brute - Returns so oft to spoil his fruit: - Thus Hector bawls, nor that alone, - But is the first to lead 'em on: - On the deep file with might doth pour, - Like a black heavy city-shower, - Which clears the streets, and into shops - Drives painted whores and brainless fops, - With fury from the pantiles rolls, - Drenches the signs and barbers' poles, - Washes each dirty stinking street, - And for an hour the town is sweet. - - O Churchill's Muse! for once assist, - Whilst humbly I draw out a list - Of those that fell by Hector's cudgel, - When Jove, who now and then doth judge ill, - Without regard to Whig or Tory, - Bestow'd on him a day of glory. - To 'scape him there appear'd but small hopes-- - He smash'd Assaeus first, then Dolops; - Assaeus was a great book-binder, - And Dolops was a razor-grinder. - Just there the noted woollen-draper, - Autonous, began to vapour, - But Hector quickly made him caper. - He next began to grapple with - Opites, a great silver-smith; - On his bread-basket such a thump - He lent him, down he tumbled plump. - Then flat as e'er you saw a flounder - He quickly fell'd the great bell-founder - Hipponous--down he fell, - His noddle sounded like a bell. - Ophelthius next, a pastry-cook, - That made good pigeon-pie of rook, - Cut venison from Yorkshire hogs[1], - And made rare mutton-pies of dogs, - From Hector's crab-tree stick of sticks - Got a reward for all rogue's tricks - is hard-bak'd head was finely whack'd, - The skin all bruis'd, and crust all crack'd. - Orus, who kept a noted inn - Full on the road from York to Lynn, - A chatt'ring whelp, just like an ape, - Got in a most confounded scrape; - As Hector rapp'd the saucy dog's head, - It sounded like an empty hogshead. - Esymmus, a ship-biscuit baker, - Got pelted by this noddle-breaker-- - His skull, as Hector's stick did whisk it, - Rattled just like a hard ship-biscuit. - Last, the rope-maker, Agelau, - By a great knock upon his jaw, - Was sent to see his friends below; - The Trojan's broomstick, unresisted, - His slender thread of life untwisted. - - These, you must note, were no riff-raff, - But officers upon the staff: - As for your common country cousins, - He knock'd them down by pecks and dozens, - And, with a flourish of his stick, - Laid 'em all on their backs as quick - As gamblers thump their box and dice, - Or nitty taylors crack their lice. - Have you not seen a sort of twirlwind, - Which country people call a whirlwind, - Whip up a haycock from the ground, - And twist it round, and round, and round, - Whilst with their peepers fix'd in air, - And gaping mouths, the bumkins stare? - Thus Hector whipp'd about, and soon - Kick'd up their heels, or knock'd 'em down. - - And now had Greece been overturn'd, - And all their keels and scullers burn'd; - But sly Ulysses ran with speed - To call his neighbour Diomede: - Diom. says he, why, what the pox, - We'd better both be set i' th' stocks - Than stand and stare whilst Hector keeps - Smoking the Grecians upon heaps. - Let's meet this fav'rite of the gods: - Were two to one, and that's brave odds. - - Says Diomede, You know, Ulysses, - I'll fight with any man: but this is - Another case; I've suffer'd evils - For boxing both with gods and devils; - Jove helps this Hector from above, - And souse me if I'll box with Jove! - What boots it now, my friend, to stand, - If Jove won't lend a helping hand? - 'Tis striving without spades to dig, - And whistling to a stone-dead pig. - Then as he spoke he gave a sigh, - And whiz he let his broomstick fly; - It hit a purse-proud fellow's crown, - A Wapping lawyer of renown, - Thymbraeus call'd, and fetch'd him down. - Ulysses then, that cunning tartar, - Up with his club, and fell'd the carter. - When they had done this job of jobs, - They durst not stay to pick their fobs, - Hector was then so near them, they - Thought it was best to pop away. - Thus thieves, that wait the time to nick - When they can best your pockets pick, - Lurch till some bustle is begun, - Then run and thieve, and thieve and run. - - Merops' two sons, a hopeful pair, - Were seated in a one-horse chair: - Their father carried once a pack - Of caps and stockings on his back-- - An honest plodding Highland wight, - And therefore born with second-sight: - From fighting he had warn'd the lads, - But younkers seldom mind their dads; - In spite of him these younkers frisky - Went out and hir'd a timmy whisky; - To his advice they paid no heed, - But drove to meet this Diomede, - Who, maugre all that they could do, - Drubb'd 'em, and pick'd their pockets too. - - Ulysses smash'd Hypirochus, - And the rich Jew Hippodamus, - And made him rue he e'er did sally - From that great den of thieves, the Alley, - Where had he staid, he might have bit - A thousand honest people yet. - But Satan always doth forecast - To lead rogues into scrapes at last. - - Whilst things went on at six and seven, - Jove smok'd a serious pipe in heaven, - And let old Gox's scales hang even; - Nor did he seem a whit to care, - But let 'em scratch, fight dog fight bear. - On this the great Tydides strains out, - And knocks Agastrophus's brains out, - Who, busy fighting all the while, - Had left his cart above a mile; - But when the honest Trojan saw - This bully Greek, he fled. Yet though - He ran as if the devil split him, - This blackguard rascal's broomstick hit him: - Upon his wooden noddle falling, - It broke his skull, and laid him sprawling. - Great Hector saw this fearful rout, - For he was looking sharp about: - As he mov'd on he loud did bawl, - And with him brought the devil and all, - A gang of downright Teagues, all rare men, - With bludgeons arm'd like Brentford chairmen. - - Brave Diomede himself, who never - Was us'd to fear, now felt his liver, - Spite of his mighty courage, start, - And give a knock against his heart: - When thus he speaks--Ulysses, mind, - A plaguy storm before the wind - Comes rolling on, and I conjecture - It can be nought but bully Hector, - Who throws about his pots and kettles, - As if his bum was stung with nettles: - Let us resolve in this here place - To meet the rascal's ugly face. - Just as he spoke, to keep his fame up, - He flung his stick as Hector came up, - Which lent the Trojan's leather cap - A most confounded banging rap, - Bruis'd it, and sliding up, did lop - A tarnish'd tassel from the top: - But by the care of sage Apollo - It happen'd no great harm did follow; - Though 'twas so sound a knock it stunn'd him - So much, that Hector rather shunn'd him, - Mounted his cart, and whipp'd about - To try his luck another route. - Tydides shouts Huzza! huzza! - The hect'ring Hector's run away! - Well doth Apollo pay that thief - For all his knuckle-bones of beef; - If any witch would help a bit, - By G-d, I'd swinge that rascal yet! - But since he stoutly runs away for't, - I'll make his ragged scoundrels pay for't. - Then, though Agastrophus was dead, - He lent him t'other knock o' th' head, - To keep his hand in: now and then, - Like Falstaff, he could kill dead men. - - Paris, the keeper of the fair, - Whose piece of brittle china ware - Had caus'd this rout, that wenching knave, - Was peeping from the well-known grave - Of Ilus, an old brown-bread baker, - Who being what we call a quaker, - I' th' open fields his friends did leave him, - Because church-yards would not receive him-- - Hearing this bully, what doth he - But whips behind a hollow tree, - And just as Diom. down did squat - To steal Agastrophus's hat. - Twang-dang he let his arrow go off, - And almost knock'd the bully's' toe off. - The rogue behind the hollow tree - Laugh'd till he split his sides, to see - The bully Grecian's odd grimaces, - He made such cursed ugly faces; - Then from his ambush leaping out, - Diom., says he, you seem to pout, - As if you'd got the pox or gout: - I've hit, I find, the gouty part, - But wish Id reach'd your pluck or heart; - Then would our Trojan bloods be free - From dread of thy damn'd face and thee - Who tremble at thy phiz, and run - Faster than Paddy from a dun. - - Diom. was marching off, but stopping, - Replies, Ho! ho! Miss Frizzle Topping! - I thought, when pop-gun arrows flew - It could be none but such as you; - Rogues that will boldly face a pox, - But dare as well be hang'd as box. - What signifies thy slender touch? - Our cook-maid Doll could do as much, - Or more; her nails will reach the marrow - As soon again as thy poor arrow. - But this good broomstaff ne'er flies waste, - As I one day will let thee taste; - Some Trojan gets, whene'er it goes, - A broken pate or bloody nose: - Whilst all their doxies, when they hear - My name, begin to scold and swear, - Because I'm sure where'er I come - To send their husbands limping home. - - Whilst thus he prates, Ulysses, who - Was much concern'd for his great toe, - Pulls out the dart, and then doth pour in - What offer'd first, and that was urine; - Then laid his patient in a cart, - And bid 'em drive him pretty smart. - Now, when this bully-back was gone, - Ulysses found himself alone: - Whilst he was busy with the toe, - He never thought how things might go; - But when the Trojans up did walk, - He with himself began some talk: - I shall be smash'd if here I stay, - And yet I dare not run away; - For then they will not let me eat, - And I shall starve without my meat, - And soon be nought but skin and bone, - Like long sir Thomas R----n. - Why should I longer then stand scrubbing? - Starving is ten times worse than drubbing, - Whilst he was weighing thus the matter, - He heard the Trojan broomsticks clatter; - Before this talk was done they found him, - And quickly made a circle round him, - Though his hard knocks did make 'em own - They'd better let his pate alone. - In Piccadilly thus I've seen - A drunken ragged scolding quean - By a large circle of the boys - Pursued with dirt, and mud, and noise: - Whilst she stands still, and only scolds, - Each hardy boy his station holds; - But when or here or there she reels, - The younkers nimbly trust their heels. - Just such another matter this is - Betwixt the Trojans and Ulysses; - His cudgel first he level'd at - And laid the bold Deiopis flat, - A taller fellow and a fatter - You never saw, except the hatter. - Next Ennomus, and Thoon too, - Dealers in stone and powder blue, - Felt what this sturdy Greek could do. - Chersidamas, a noted brewer, - Who in his time had poison'd fewer - Than any of the brewing trade, - Next on the clay-cold ground was laid; - Across the guts Ulysses wip'd him, - And brew'd him up a stroke that grip'd him. - Charops, the son of old Hippases, - Who sold Scotch snuff and farthing laces - Under St. Dunstan's church, was nigh: - At him Ulysses soon let fly: - The broomstick quickly did his job, - And rung against his hollow nob. - Soccus, his bro. a noted tanner, - And bailiff to the lord o' th' manor, - Was nigh, and saw this lurching whelp - Slinging his stick--so ran to help - His brother: but he found him tumbled; - At which be sure his gizzard grumbled. - Curse your sly pate, says he, Ulysses! - You lousy lurching scoundrel, this is - One of your old damn'd roguish tricks, - This laming folks by flinging sticks: - But you shall fairly knock me down, - Or rot me but I'll crack your crown! - This said, his crabtree stick he long - Rattled about his ears ding-dong: - But the sly Grecian's nob, so thick, - Bid bold defiance to his stick; - On which the Trojan chang'd his stroke, - And with a Highland flourish broke - Two of his ribs--when Pallas put - Her hand between, and say'd his gut. - - Ulysses, though with pain it fill'd him, - Was pretty sure he had not kill'd him; - So drawing back a step or two, - Soccus, says he, I think 'tis now - My turn to have a knock at you; - And for the stroke you've been so civil - To give, I'll send you to the devil. - Whilst he was laying forth the case, - He grinn'd with such an ugly face, - That Soccus really thought the elf - Had been sir Beelzebub himself; - Which scar'd him so, he durst not stay, - But whipp'd about and ran away. - The flying broomstick reach'd his back, - And fell'd him down with such a whack - Against a stone, it cut his hat, - And beat his long sharp nose quite flat. - Then, as upon the ground they lay, - Ulysses thus was heard to say: - My Trojan friends, lie you two there - Till Christmas next, for aught I care; - Your mam. will hardly hither pop, - Nor can your daddy leave his shop - To come your funeral to grace - With sable cloak, and crying face, - But leaves that task to coffin-makers, - Or rueful long-phizz'd undertakers. - Now, when I die, I know our vicar - Will make 'em bind my grave with wicker, - Where all my friends, if right I think, - Will drink and sob, and sob and drink. - - Whilst he was jabb'ring in this strain, - His bruise began to give him pain; - Then lifting up his dirty shirt, - He found he'd got a plaguy hurt, - And, the misfortune still to crown, - The Trojans saw his blood run down; - Which made 'em press so close, the whelp - Ran stoutly now, and roar'd for help. - Thrice did Atrides hear him further - Than fifty furlongs roar out Murder! - On which the Spartan bully cried - To Ajax, who was at his side, - I'm sure that something much amiss is, - For murder! murder! roars Ulysses; - So wide his mouth would hardly gape - Were he not in some cursed scrape; - To bring him off we both must run, - Else, by my soul, we're all undone! - For though he's strong, yet Ferdinando - Can do no more than one man can do; - And if of him we are bereft, - There is but one good counsel left. - Though counsellors are understood - To do more harm, thrice told, than good, - Yet here the rule don't fully hold, - For he can box as well as scold: - But the damn'd knaves in Wranglers'-Hall - Are good for nothing but to bawl; - And when you kick 'em for their jaw, - They take the kicks, and take the law. - - Then where the roaring came from they - With hasty strides direct their way; - 'Twas lucky they so soon did stickle, - For he was in a grievous pickle; - The smell was potent where he stood-- - 'Tis an ill wind blows no man good; - For by its help they nos'd him out, - Though compass'd by his foes about. - As younkers at a country school, - When they've a heap of apples stole, - One youth, that he may fair divide. - Across the apples stands astride, - When lo the master, dreadful case! - Pops in his unexpected face; - At his approach they scour away, - And leave the undivided prey; - The pedant then asserts his claim, - And bears the apples to his dame: - Thus Ajax made 'em all run faster - Than the boys scamper'd from their master; - For when the late-exulting foe - His huge enormous broomstick saw, - Who should get first away they strove, - And ran as if the devil drove. - On this great Menelaus pisses, - Then went to help his friend Ulysses, - And part by strength, and part by art, - Got him shov'd up into a cart; - Whilst Ajax with his stick pursu'd - The flying, frighten'd, routed crowd, - Paid 'em about, but first begun - With Doryclus, old Priam's son, - A youth that often walk'd the Park - To pick up wenches in the dark. - Pandocus next he struck hap-hazard, - And laid his stick across his mazzard. - With so much force, it made his mouth ache, - And gave him a d--d fit o' th' tooth-ache. - The pimp at Haddock's bagnio, - Pyrasas, felt the next great blow; - Ajax a swingeing broomstick threw, - That bruis'd his rump all black and blue, - Which paid the rascal well for pimping, - And sent him to his brothel limping. - Lysander next, an Irish broker, - A mettled fellow and a joker, - Met with this clumsy Grecian cock, - And got a most infernal knock, - Made him so sick, he fell to bokeing, - And for a twelvemonth spoil'd his joking. - Palertes last, a freeborn Troyman, - A noted jeweller and toyman, - Got tumbled down, whilst all his toys - Made a confounded clatt'ring noise. - Thus, when you 'gin to smell a stink, - You pump away to clear the sink, - A deluge issues through the grates, - And drives down rotten shrimps and sprats, - Tumbles the garbage o'er and o'er, - Till it has reach'd the common shore: - Just so before him as he rumbled - Both carts, and men, and horses tumbled. - - Hector was to the left a mile, - Pelting the Grecians all the while, - Kicking the ragged sons of bitches - By dozens into muddy ditches: - There Nestor and the Cretan stood, - And stopp'd his kicking all they could: - But, spite of them, this furious loon - Kick'd the poor rogues like nine-pins down. - Paris, who rode Atrides' boot in, - Was practising the art of shooting, - That he might make his aim more certain - Than Wilkes himself, or even Martin, - Took opportunity i' th' nick - To lend the Grecian quack a prick: - The arrow made his shoulder smack, - And the Greeks trembled for their quack. - The Cretan then to Nestor spoke: - Come here, old weather-beaten rock, - I've better business far for you - Than aught you can by boxing do; - Go take your higler's cart, and lay on - The wounded doctor, Don Machaon, - And drive him off; if he is lost, - We all may feel it to our cost: - You know it well, nor you alone, - He cures more kinds of wounds than one; - And but for his great skill, you know - You had been rotten long ago. - Nestor obeys, and sans delay - Convey'd the wounded quack away. - And with an almost fire-new thong - Dusted his raw-bon'd tits along; - And as his geldings lamely tripp'd, - He whipp'd and cough'd, and cough'd and whipp'd. - - Now Hector's carter, who could see - Above as far again as he, - Looking the Trojan files along, - Soon saw where things were going wrong; - Whilst here we fight genteel and civil, - Quoth he, there's Ajax plays the devil; - Mind how the bully swears and curses, - And oversets both carts and horses; - I know the whelp by one sure sign, - His fist's as big as three of mine. - Then let's be jogging to assist - Our friends to 'scape his mutton fist, - Else, by our mighty Trojan founders! - He'll lay 'em all as flat as flounders. - He said no more, but quickly got - His geldings smack'd into a trot; - O'er legs and arms he drove so smart, - He sprink'd the foot-board of the cart, - And daub'd it rarely with the stains - Of blood and mud, and guts and brains, - Which fill'd the axle-tree so full, - The horses had a far worse pull - Than if they'd lugg'd a brewer's dray, - Or country waggon full of hay. - - The Grecians thought by standing close - To keep him out: but such a dose - With his oak stick the Trojan gave 'em, - They trusted to their heels to save 'em; - Whilst he their sides so nimbly switch'd, - They thought the fellow was bewitch'd. - Then from his cart he ply'd 'em thick, - With first a broomstick, then a brick, - And fell'd 'em down with just such knocks - As bumkins lend their Shrovetide cocks, - Flinging his sticks at such a rate, - He always broke a leg or pate. - By such hard knocks as these he made - The Greeks so horribly afraid, - That they employ'd their utmost might in - Running away, instead of fighting; - And Ajax felt such queerish twitches, - His courage jump'd into his breeches: - He therefore found; when folks begun for't, - His own thick legs dispos'd to run for't; - But taking care that none should say - Great Ajax ran, he walk'd away, - And, lest they should his rear attack, - He kept a constant peeping back. - Thus on an evening have I seen, - With pious face on Bethnal-Green, - An inspir'd cobbler mount a tub, - And preach to ev'ry ragged scrub: - Though dirt and rotten eggs flew round, - Yet inspiration kept his ground, - Nor, till he'd preach'd his sermon out, - Would stir a step, and then did do't - With as much gravity as if - To be inspir'd was to be stiff. - Thus heavy Ajax bore the cuffings - Of all the Trojan raggamuffins, - And walk'd as slow as if he'd been - The preaching cobbler of the Green: - In Spanish strides his knees he bent, - And grumbled all the way he went. - Thus have I seen a sand-cart ass - Devour a farmers clover-grass: - The farmer, with his wife and man, - To drive him out do all they can; - But though they pour a heavy tide - Of rattling hedgestakes on his side, - The beast, as patient as he's dull, - Eats till he crams his belly full, - And then, insensible of pain, - Deliberately walks off again. - Whilst Ajax strutted off demurely, - The Trojans bang'd his potlid purely; - Sometimes he turn'd about to swear - He'd break their bones if they came near; - Then march'd away, but, as he trod, - Threaten'd them with an angry nod; - Whilst they, to keep up this queer battle, - With brickbats made his potlid rattle. - - Euripylus, who saw them skelp him, - Resolv'd at any rate to help him, - And did his knotty broomstaff lay on - The Trojan hosier, Apisaon, - Whose nob he lent a knock that broke it, - At which he ran to pick his pocket. - Paris was ever on the watch - These low pick-pocket rogues to catch; - He hated all such dirty jobs, - As stealing hats, and picking fobs: - Not but the dog himself, 'twas said, - Would oft pick up--a maiden-head, - But then he thought no sin lay there, - Because 'twas perishable ware; - In other things he was in truth - A very good church-going youth, - Of th' catechize could read some part, - And say the whole Lord's prayer by heart-- - He saw this pilf'ring Grecian lout - Turn Apisaon's pockets out; - On which he let an arrow fly, - That tore his breeks, and cut his thigh, - Made the rogue sweat and grin with pain. - And sent him hobbling back again. - But yet before he stirr'd one bit, - He made a speech; and this is it: - O Greeks, I fear your courage fails ye, - In God's name, what the devil ails ye? - I've left poor Ajax in a sweat; - And if you do not quickly get - To his assistance, I'll be shot - But his hard nob must go to pot! - The Trojans do so sorely pelt, - That if his potlid and his belt - Did not secure his rump so gummy, - His buttocks must be thrash'd to mummy: - And if you could but see 'em now, - I'll answer for't they're black and blue! - For God's sake, neighbours, run and help him, - You'd wonder how the rascals skelp him. - - Whilst he was speaking, from the rout - About a dozen fellows stout - Took heart of grace, and ventured out; - Some held their leathern potlids o'er him, - And others clapp'd their staves before him. - Whilst thus their fainting friend they shroud, - Ajax struts up and joins the crowd; - Then on a sudden, growing stout, - He puff'd his cheeks, and fac'd about. - - Thus things went on, and all the while - Nestor had jerk'd his tits a mile, - And with a wondrous deal of flogging - Made a hard shift to keep them jogging; - Smoking with sweat, amidst the throng, - They lugg'd the wounded quack along. - Just then Achilles, as 'tis said, - Was sitting at the main-mast head, - From whence he saw the Greeks all spent, - And cudgel'd to their hearts' content; - With joy he saw the Trojans lay on - The bones of all, except Machaon. - As for the doctor, 'cause that he - Once cur'd him of a gonorrhae, - Besides a hoarseness and a pthisic, - And charg'd but eighteen-pence for physic, - He therefore felt a little touch - Of pity, though it was not much; - When casting down his eyes below, - Patroclus working hard he saw - Mending an old blue rusty jacket - So torn he'd much ado to tack it; - On which he to his chum below - Roars out, Halloo, my buff, halloo! - - Patroclus then began to lug - From his left jaw a fine large plug, - Then clear'd his throat, and spit and cough'd, - And halloo'd out, Who calls aloft? - Stop, avast[2] heaving; is it you? - What have you got for me to do? - Whate'er you want by sea or land, - Keel-haul me but I'll lend a hand! - - Achilles thus: Through various rubs - We two have long been loving scrubs! - With joy my very heart doth tickle - To find the Greeks in such a pickle! - Though their chub-headed chief did flout me, - I knew they could not do without me; - Soon they'll be here with sobs and moans, - And down upon their marrow-bones. - But I want you, my chum, to go - To Nestor's oyster-boat, to know - What made him flog his founder'd cattle - In such a splutter from the battle, - And if he did not lug some cock - Whose pate or ribs had got a knock. - I fear it is our trusty quack; - But I could only see his back, - Nor for my blood and guts could I - A corner of his face espy, - (Though I with all my eyes did look) - The horses did so puff and smoke. - - Patroclus then shook off his fleas, - And button'd both his breeches-knees, - Fetch'd his best hat, and then did scour-- - But in a sad unlucky hour, - In a curs'd minute was he sent, - For Hector made him soon repent. - Howe'er that be, through all the throng - Of boats and huts he popp'd along, - And soon the queer old Grecian met, - Just lighted in a reeking sweat. - Eurymedon with care and art - Unloos'd his horses from the cart; - Nestor, who was confounded hot - With flogging, had a dishclout got, - Which serv'd to wipe his greasy face: - And ere he put it in its place, - Close by the wounded quack he stood, - And wip'd away both sweat and blood; - Then gap'd awhile to catch a breeze - Was coming fresh from off the seas; - But staid not long before they went - To seek for shelter in the tent. - Nestor then order'd Hecomede, - A red-hair'd wench of royal breed - (Which Greece to give th' old cock agreed, - To keep of girls his slender stock up, - And use when he could wind his clock up), - Without delay to fetch a cup, - And make a cooling mixture up. - But first this handmaid held it meet - Before they drank to make 'em eat, - So spread a table with blue feet - Made of good fir, which he had bought - In Broker's-alley for a groat; - Whereon she plac'd a spanking dish, - Then fill'd it full, but not with fish; - Of better stuff she pour'd a flood in, - And that was smoking hasty-pudding; - With this she mix'd, for this old coney- - Catcher, an honest pint of honey, - Then rubb'd a salted garlic head - Upon a mouldy crust of bread, - This done, a bowl that formerly - Belong'd the taylors' company, - And giv'n th'old Greek for his advice - 'Bout cabbage, cucumbers, and lice, - Matters of great concern and weight - To this large body corporate - Of cross-legg'd thieves, who earn their bread - By buckram, staytapes, silk, and thread; - To make it fine the taylors' beadles - Had stuck it full of ends of needles. - Now you must know this bowl of wood - Upon a pair of cross-legs stood; - About a dozen wooden pegs - Fasten'd this pair of bandy legs; - Four handles did the sides adorn, - Two made of wood and two of horn; - (Two out of four of horn were made, - To show the fate of half the trade); - O' th' top of each of which a pair - Of heads resembling snipes did stare, - With beaks so sharp, in many a case - Of bodkins they supply'd the place. - Three quarts it held, and yet when full - Could this old soaker at a pull - Drink it half off and never sob; - But few with him could bear a bob. - This bowl the nymph of high degree, - As handsome as a cook should be, - Fill'd with the drink of which I boasted, - Rare Yorkshire ale with apples roasted. - This for the quack did she prepare; - But Nestor got the better share; - 'Twould do you good to see the pull - Th' old soaker took of this lamb's-wool[3]; - And all his life he did forecast, - To get the first tip and the last. - - Their thirst being partly quench'd, they chatter - Of this and that, and t'other matter; - And though Patroclus now drew near, - They made such din they could not hear - Nor see him, till he did present - His proper self before the tent. - Nestor then starting makes a stir, - And cries, Your humble servant, sir! - I'm mighty glad to see you here, - Please to walk in and take a chair. - - Patroclus thus: I cannot sit, - But with your leave will stand a bit; - For I have heard my granny say, - That whilst you stand, you do not stay. - Achilles saw your cart go past, - And therefore sent me out post haste - To learn what Grecian your old cattle - Were lugging from the field of battle; - But to my grief I plainly view, - Old friend Machaon, it was you. - I know, although I am no wizard, - Achilles will be vex'd to th' gizzard, - To find your nags came puffing with - Our bold and learned p---- smith: - This news however I will carry - With speed, so ask me not to tarry. - I'll tell him what I see and hear - But if I stay, you know he'll swear. - - Nestor replies: I fear Achilles - In a d--d sulky humour still is: - But if he really asks about us, - And did not send you here to flout us, - I'll tell you all, for this misfortune - Is nought to what's behind the curtain. - This learned skilful doctor's not - The only hero that has got - A broken shin or kick o' th' a--: - But many a fierce-look'd son of Mars - As bold as major Sturgeon's fled - To cure a broken shin or head. - Nay several bruisers, men of note, - Have got their teeth knock'd down their throat; - Ulysses has got such a stroke - That naif his ribs are almost broke, - And some damn'd heavy-footed foe - Has trod upon poor Diom.'s toe; - Besides, the blood by gallons flows - From great Eurypylus's nose. - But whether we are drubb'd or not, - Achilles doth not mind a jot; - Nay, should the Trojans burn our fleet, - I reckon he'll be glad to see't: - Greek after Greek gets rapp'd o' th' knuckles, - Whilst he sits still and grins and chuckles. - The devil fetch old Time, I say, - For stealing all my strength away! - O that I was but half as strong - As when I drove the world along! - From Elis fetch'd a roaring bull, - And crack'd their general's thick skull: - Then drove th' Epeans all like thunder, - And got the Lord knows what of plunder; - Their herds of sheep when we did meet 'em, - We very seldom fail'd to eat 'em; - Then stole their breeding mares, all big - With foal, and many a goat and pig. - These things I did when but a boy, - And made my daddy jump for joy. - Elis, thus basted, hung their ears, - And grumbling paid their old arrears; - And Pylian knights, so special poor - They turn'd a farthing three times o'er - Before it went, now found their breeches' - Pockets too shallow for their riches. - When Elis first came out to dare us, - They thought they easily could scare us, - Because one Hercules, a bully, - Had almost done our business fully: - Twelve lads my father got, and he - Demolish'd ev'ry soul but me. - Howe'er, we ventur'd out to kick 'em, - Resolv'd to lose our lives, or lick 'em; - Which, 'faith! we did, and made 'em glad - To give to my old crusty dad - Three dozen ewes--they ow'd him that - For cheating him o' th' gold-lac'd hat - Which he had won at May-day fair - By proving the best cudgel-player; - Both his lac'd hat and cudgel too - The constable detain'd, but now - We made the rogues severely rue. - What more we got, myself dealt out - Amongst our jolly boys so stout. - But in three days they came again, - Both horses, carts, and drunken men. - Old Actor's sons, two bullying roysters, - Whose mother sells fine Welflit oysters - Under a bulk in Drury-lane-- - These bastards led this drunken train. - Thryoessa, a pretty village, - Not fam'd, as you may think, for tillage, - Because upon a rock it lay, - Was the last place we had that way; - That little town, if you'll inquire, - Ended the bound of Pylos' shire: - 'Twas there the rascals came to see us, - And cross'd a dyke they call Alpheus; - But Pallas came one foggy night, - Turn out, says she, my boys, and fight. - On which with speed we left our rock, - And march'd to give the dogs a knock. - I first got ready; but my dad, - Afraid lest they should hurt his lad, - Lock'd up my boots and jacket too, - And d--d his eyes if I should go! - But wilful I resolv'd to do't, - So tramp'd it all the way on foot. - By Minyas stream we push'd the bowl, - Whilst we look'd o'er the muster-roll; - And long before the day begun - All got their buff-skin doublets on, - Except myself, for I had none: - And all our bucks were cloth'd so bare, - Not one had got a coat to spare - Then trudg'd it to the very border - Of Alpheus' stream, in train-band order. - Quickly, to set all right above, - We cook'd a dinner up for Jove, - Of something very good and hot, - Though what it was I've quite forgot: - Minerva had a dinner too, - The udder of a rare old cow: - Alpheus came a meal to seek, - For him we stew'd a fine bull's cheek. - Neptune, we knew, was stall'd with fish, - We therefore cook'd him up a dish - Of lean bull-beef with cabbage fried, - And a full pot of beer beside: - Bubble[4], they call this dish, and squeak; - Our taylors dine on't thrice a week. - By th' water-side the men all kept, - And in their buff-skin doublets slept, - All but poor me; but here I had - Borrow'd an itchy lousy plaid - Of a Scotch loon, from whom I bought - A rare good neckcloth for a groat-- - Those plaids are special things to watch in, - They keep a man so warm with scratching. - Th' Epeans, with their loins all bound - In carriers' belts, our town surround. - Soon as the red-fac'd fiery Sun - Had curl'd his whiskers, and begun - To look about him, we to battle - March'd out, and made their noddles rattle. - And now I box'd it in my waistcoat, - Better than some that had a lac'd coat: - King Augeas' son I tumbled down, - And with a thumping knock o' th' crown, - Gave a confounded broken head - To this great spouse of Agamede, - A girl so skilful, that she knew, - Amongst all kind of herbs that grew, - None made such bitter drink as rue. - I seiz'd his cart when he was down, - And swore I'd keep it for my own. - My men huzza'd as I led on, - And made the drunken scoundrels run, - Just like a whirlwind which in town - Drives butchers'-stalls and green-shops down. - I smok'd the rogues, my cudgel maul'd 'em, - And my sharp-pointed broomshaft gall'd em; - Full fifty carts that day I took-- - 'Tis true, my friends! for all you look - As much surpris'd as if that I, - Like statesmen, had a mind to try - To hum you with a thund'ring lie. - Now you must know each cart I got - Contained two bully-backs of note-- - None of your wishy-washy sparks, - Attorneys' hacks and lawyers' clerks; - But farmers' sons, rare strong-back'd youths, - With mutton-fists and flounder-mouths: - But when we came to a dispute, - I kick'd the wide-mouth'd scoundrels out - Two in each cart, you say? Why then - You must have kick'd a hundred men - Out of their carts that day--'Tis true, sir, - I've men alive will vouch it now, sir! - And Actor's sons, I would, as surely - As you stand there, have drubb'd 'em purely; - But Neptune saw the whole, and tried. - With all his speed to take their side, - Because the mother of those roysters - Was a good customer for oysters. - To save their bacon, what doth he - But pops a cloud 'twixt them and me, - So thick, one mouthful did, I'm sure, - Make me stand coughing half an hour! - And there you might have seen me stuck up, - Boaking as if I'd bring my pluck up: - And would have given any money - For Doctor Hill's balsamic honey. - But still I drove the rest in flocks - As far as the Olinian rocks: - Then, where Aliseum's waters drop, - Pallas call'd out, Plague on you! stop. - When you begin to kick and cuff, - You know not when you've done enough. - Yet even there I came i' th' nick - To lend the last a hearty kick: - Smite both my eyes! I scorn to puff, - But here 'twas I that work'd their buff! - On my strong toe this fray depended, - Nestor began, and Nestor ended. - Our parsons then, to crown this job, - Order'd long prayers to hum the mob - At Pyle; where the folks, d'ye see, - Thank'd Madam Pallas first, then me. - Thus, when a cub, my blood took fire, - And made me box it for my shire: - The passion of this chum of yours - Has kick'd his reason out of doors; - When they have sent us to the devil, - Who values then his being civil, - Unless the bully will agree - To hang himself for company? - The day I ever shall remember, - I think 'twas some time in December, - And blow'd a mack'rel gale, when we - To muster soldiers put to sea; - I and Ulysses landed where - His father kept the Old Black Bear; - We found him with his handmaid Nelly, - Preparing timber for the belly. - A bull upon a spit he puts, - And gave to whoring Jove the guts. - Thy good old dad and thee were turning - The spit, to keep the fineat from burning - Achilles help'd to bear a bob, - For troth it was a warmish job; - He was the first of all to 'spy us, - And made a leg as he came nigh us, - Told us, if we would pick a bit, - He'd cut a slice from off the spit. - We neither of us were so nice - As stay to be entreated twice: - After twelve pots were fairly out - We mentioned what we came about. - Strong beer will oft make men, you know, - As loving as a Trinculo; - 'Twas so with you two bucks, you kiss'd us, - And swore by Jove you would assist us: - Your dads spoke words worth tons of gold; - Old Peleus said, My son, be bold! - I've heard a fellow talk an hour - In Stephen's chapel, yet I'm sure, - Nay, on occasion I would swear it, - He did not say so much, or near it. - Your father's speech was rather longer; - Quoth he, Though Peleus' son be stronger, - And for his mother had a witch, - Yet when upon too high a pitch - He raves and swears, mind you and cool him, - And then you easily may rule him. - Thus spake your dad; but you, I find, - Have quite forgot, or else don't mind: - Though, if you will but try, you may - (A will can always find a way) - Persuade him to assist us now, - I know he'll do a deal for you: - But if some fortune-telling witch, - Some long-chinn'd, long-nos'd, ugly bitch - Of Mother Shipton's breed, has made - His mighty heart and pluck afraid, - Tell him, Troy's rogues will change their note, - If he'll but lend you his great coat. - Put on his bear-skin coat, and meet 'em, - If they don't run, by G-- I'll eat 'em; - Back to their village will they scamper, - Nor longer thus our Grecians hamper; - Each man his own dear self will mind most, - And bid the devil take the hindmost. - - At hearing of this doleful ditty, - The bold Thessalian, touch'd with pity, - Like a lamp-lighter, o'er the plain - Ran back with all his might and main. - It happen'd, as he cross'd a place - Where Cox, a justice of the peace, - Was sending little whores to jail - For want of pence as well as bail, - Just where Ulysses' cock-boats lay, - From whence, a very little way, - Their jolly parsons us'd to pray, - Eurypylus he chanc'd to 'spy, - As the great chief came hopping by, - With a sad prick upon his thigh, - Which gave the Greek such grievous pain, - It made him sweat and smoke again: - But I would have understood, - Though he look'd blue, his heart was good. - Patroclus could not help from crying, - To see him limp along; when, sighing, - He thus begins: Now, by my soul, - You've got into a damn'd bad hole! - In an ill day ye sure set out, - To get so drubb'd and kick'd about. - But say, my friend, how matters stand; - Doth Hector hold his heavy hand, - Or still bestir his wooden sabre, - And all your backs and sides belabour? - - The chief replies, and faintly reels, - This day shall Greece kick up her heels; - Greece, like Britannia, ends her glories, - And loyal whigs give way to tories; - The hearts of oak that led us on, - All black and blue on board are gone, - Where Hector in the shape of Ch-t-am - Swears by his crutches he'll be at 'em - Rather than disoblige L--d B--, - He took an oath last night he'd do't, - In spite of conscience, pox, or gout. - But I could wish that you, my friend, - At this sore pinch a hand would lend - To find the point of this curs'd arrow! - But borrow first the butcher's barrow, - And wheel me to my lodgings, where - I've got all sorts of quack'ry gear, - And ev'ry kind of ointment which - Are good for scabs, or burns, or itch-- - You best know what, because they say - You serv'd three years to Surgeon Gray, - And then thought fit to run away. - Surgeons of note we have but two, - And one is boxing hard just now; - The other, by the Trojan rout, - Has almost got his eyes knock'd out. - - Patroclus thus replies: My friend, - God knows where this strange work will end, - For ev'ry drunken rogue can splutter ill - 'Bout Wilkes and Glynn, and Bute and Luttrell. - I brought a message to our grandsire, - And was returning with his answer - To great Achilles; but although - He's an impatient whelp, you know, - Before I'll leave you in the mud, - I'll let him swear till swearing's good. - - Then, though it made his sinews crack, - He took the bully on his back. - His handmaid 'spied him from the boats, - Riding just like a sack of oats: - Guessing he'd got a broken head, - Or some d--d kick o' th' guts, she spread - An old cow's hide upon his bed. - Patroclus then, with very narrow - Inspection, found the point o' th' arrow, - Which he pull'd out as soon as found, - And, making water in the wound, - Wrapp'd an old clout, a little greasy, - About the thigh, and left him easy. - - - [1] In Yorkshire they call fat sheep hogs. - - [2] A sea-term. - - [3] Ale with roasted apples in it is called lamb-wool. - - [4] Fried beef and cabbage is a dish so well known by the name of -bubble-and-squeak in town, that it is only for the sake of my country -readers I insert this note. - - - - - THE TWELFTH BOOK - - OF - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - - - - ARGUMENT. - - - - The Grecian curl'd and knotty pates - Are driv'n behind their shabby gates. - Hector comes on in furious haste, - Their mangey sides and ribs to baste; - But on a sudden as he goes, - Finds a small ditch across his nose; - On which Polydamas roars out, - Though carts and horses cannot do't, - On foot we'll quickly rumble through't; - For though what horses we have got - Can leap, we're sure the carts cannot. - This counsel, though it did not cost - A single tester, was not lost; - Both cut and long-tail, black and grey, - With all their carts they sent away; - Then fell by th' ears, when to their view - Appear'd a long-legg'd heron-sue - That sh-- an eel: at this dread sight - Polydamas, in woeful fright, - Comes to his brother Hector puffing, - And begg'd him to give over cuffing. - Hector, resolv'd to make 'em feel, - Damn'd both the heron-sue and eel; - And since he's got so far, he swears - He'll pull their wall about their ears. - Sarpedon too made dismal rout, - And threw their hedging-stakes about; - Pulling them from the wall so fast, - He made a swingeing gap at last. - Then Hector takes him up a stone, - Such as our miles are mark'd upon, - Or rather less: with this he batters - Their gates, and breaks them all to shatters; - Then rushing forward dusts their coats, - And drives them all on board their boats. - - - - - - HOMER'S ILIAD. - - BOOK XII. - - - - Now whilst Patroclus play'd the quack, - The mob each other's bones did thwack, - Gave and receiv'd confounded raps - With many a dowsing slap o' th' chaps. - On Childermas, a luckless day, - Their shabby wall of mud, they say, - Was rais'd, which made it soon give way. - But Homer had a better reason, - Why it would hardly last a season: - They hurried so to get it up, - They did not kill a single tup, - Or bull, or cow, to give their pack - Of wooden gods a little snack: - This made their hungry parsons grumble, - And swear by G-d the wall would tumble; - And such a case, I'm pretty clear, - Would make a Christian parson swear-- - When people cease their gods to serve, - The jolly priests of course must starve. - For far less crimes the bulls of Rome - Have kick'd and scar'd all Christendom; - To every age and every station - Roaring perdition and damnation; - And had not one Sir Luther Martin - Found that their roaring was but farting, - To this good day our empty skulls - Had been humbugg'd by Peter's bulls. - They say, if God don't build the house, - Your labour is not worth a louse; - But if he builds, we surely then - Should keep and pay his journeymen. - His journeymen! Pray who are they, - That we must keep as well as pay? - Why, reverend priests, you head of cod! - They are the journeymen of God: - And rare good journeymen they make, - All kinds of work they undertake; - For, be it spoken to their praise, - They'll do their duty twenty ways; - And, rather than they'll live in strife, - Will do your duty for your wife: - In short, a well-taught priest will try - To finger ev'ry mutton-pie. - Howe'er, in spite of all their swearings, - This wail, till they were dead as herrings, - Stood on its legs, though thump'd about, - And liv'd to see both parties out. - But when the Trojan bones were rotten, - And all the Grecian rogues forgotten, - The neighb'ring streams did all they could - To undermine these walls of mud: - Their names were Rhesus and Scamander, - On which swam many a goose and gander; - AEsepus and Heptaporus, - With Simois and Grenicus; - Caresus full of guts and blood, - And Rhesus black with kennel-mud: - They say, Apollo muster'd all - These streams to tumble down this wall; - And lest their labour should be vain, - Jove sent a thund'ring shower of rain; - Then Neptune seiz'd the time to work, - And play'd the devil with his fork, - Threw all the dirt about and sticks, - Old broken pots, and ends of bricks; - And, like our bumkins spreading dung, - The mud and stones about he flung - So dext'rously, he laid the shore - As level as it was before; - (Which made th' next generation swear, - The de'il a wall had e'er been there; - But Homer knew there was, and I - Am sure th' old fellow scorn'd to lie). - And now the rivers fac'd about - To find their ancient currents out; - Some to cross vales and drain out bogs, - Others to wash the sties of hogs. - But this would be some other term, - As yet it stood secure and firm; - Nor had the Trojans done it hurt, - Though they kept pelting stones and dirt; - And half the Greeks in woeful fright - Durst not so much as tarry by't: - For, thinking Hector very soon - Would knock their crazy bulwarks down, - And, not content to overturn 'em, - Go stave their rotten boats, or burn 'em, - The better half of these bold fighters - Ran like bewitch'd to launch their lighters. - For an excuse the cowards all - Swore Jove had had so great a call - For courage all that week, his store - Could not produce a spoonful more - To help the luckless Greeks this bout, - And their own brandy-cask was out. - Pale Fear, when brandy did not back 'em, - Was always ready to attack 'em; - Which now she did in Hector's shape, - And made the varlets run and gape; - For, just as schoolboys kick a ball, - This furious Trojan kick'd 'em all: - Like a mad ox[1] from Smithfield driven - By butchers' scoundrels, John and Stephen, - That gores and tosses in the air - The blind and lame that can't get clear. - Thus ev'ry Greek that wanted cunning, - Or heels to save himself by running, - Hector belabour'd with his switch, - Or kick'd him quite across the ditch: - But when the Trojans reach'd the side - Of this great ditch, full three feet wide, - It made a shift to stop their courses; - Ditches won't do for carts and horses. - - The wise Polydamas soon saw - The cart-tits could no further go, - So cock'd his mouth, and cry'd Halloo, - Hip, brother Hector, hark, a word! - This ditch will stop us, by the Lord! - Unless with one consent we 'light, - And boldly march on foot to fight; - Therefore do you, and ev'ry friend - That came a helping hand to lend, - To this my good advice attend: - Our tits can do no more, I think, - Than bring us to the very brink - Where now we stand; but if we make 'em - Attempt to leap, 'tis odds we stake 'em - Upon a plaguy ugly row - Of bakers' billets there below: - Besides, betwixt the ditch and wall - There is not room for carts and all. - Though the great thund'rer Jove this bout - Has help'd the Trojans rarely out, - And made the Grecians fight so tardy, - Don't let it make our nobs fool-hardy. - If he these varlets will demolish, - And all their sweaty race abolish, - The only wish that I can lend 'em - Is, that he'll let the devil mend 'em: - But should they see us in this job - Crowded just like an English mob, - Where we can neither fight nor run, - They'd smash us ev'ry mother's son; - Nor would the rogues one Trojan spare - To tell the world what fools we were. - Then gape with great attention, pray, - And swallow ev'ry word I say. - We must, to make these rascals mind us, - Send all our nags and carts behind us: - When Hector leads us on a-foot, - The odds are six to one we do't: - This is the only way to get 'em, - And this good day, please God, we'll sweat 'em. - - Hector was pleas'd within his heart - With this advice; so left his cart, - Jump'd on the ground with such a bang, - It made his metal buttons twang; - Which when the other bloods did see, - They all jump'd down as well as he, - And bid their drunken carters file off, - And wait i' th' rear about a mile off; - Then into five good sturdy packs - Divided all their bully backs. - The first, a race of bucks to stand by, - Were headed by the Trojan Granby, - Call'd Hector in the Greek; he was - Assisted by Polydamas, - And bold Cebriones, a wight - Could drive a cart as well as fight. - The second, and a sturdy band, - The whoring Paris did command: - Alcathous lent this varlet help, - And bold Agenor join'd the whelp. - The third obey'd two sons of Priam, - Fellows almost as tall as I am; - Deiphobus, a mighty Sir, - And Helenus, a conjurer; - To whom was added Asius, - A fiery buck from Hyrtacus; - His geldings were a yellow dun, - But better cart-tits never run. - Antenor's sons the fourth obey'd, - Join'd with that presbyterian blade - Pious AEneas*, who, they say, - Could stoutly box as well as pray; - Which none will wonder at, that hears - He serv'd Old Noll in all his wars, - Whose rogues, unlike our modern dull dogs, - Could pray like saints, and fight like bull-dogs. - The last tough band was drove with speed on - By a bold fellow call'd Sarpedon, - A Lycian country 'squire, whose hounds - Had almost eaten up his grounds, - Which made him venture in this fray, - Like some of our militia, - To box for honour and for pay. - Glaucus did help to guide this crew, - And bold Asteropaeus too-- - Two bucks as bold as bold could be, - But he was boldest of the three. - Each hardy Trojan, as he goes, - Holds up his pot-lid o'er his nose, - For fear he might in this tough bout - Get one or both his eyes knock'd out. - Thus they proceed through mud and mire, - Spurr'd onward with a keen desire - To set the Grecian boats on fire; - Certain their hopes will now be crown'd - To see the scoundrels burnt or drown'd. - - Whilst thus the Trojans, sans delay, - Their leader's good advice obey, - The huff-bluff Asius kept his dray, - And drove his tits along the plain, - But never brought 'em back again. - No more this giddy headstrong boy - Je-up'd his yellow duns to Troy; - But, when he reach'd the other side, - Idomeneus drubb'd his hide. - Now to the left he smok'd along, - Amidst a motley Grecian throng - Of rogues, that made confounded skips - To reach their rotten boats and ships: - None look behind to help their mates, - But dart like lightning through the gates. - As rabbits pop into their holes - When dogs disturb 'em, so in shoals - The Greeks forsook each brake and thicket, - And popp'd their noddles through the wicket: - When they were there, the better half - Could hardly think they yet were safe. - Thither this hair-brain'd hero flew - With his mad, roaring, ranting crew, - In wondrous hopes the Greeks to souse, - Hopes that turn'd out not worth a louse. - Two bloods sprang up to guard the gates, - With brawny backs, and bomb-proof pates. - Since to relate their names it meet is, - I'll do't: The first was Polypoetes; - Pirithous us'd to trim his mother, - And got him; but who got the other - I can't assert, or when or where: - That he was got is pretty clear, - And christen'd too, because his dad - Call'd him Leontius when a lad: - Both from the Lapith race did spring, - Bold rogues as ever stretch'd a string. - Like two thick posts of oak or fir, - That neither carts nor drays can stir - (Though drunken draymen drive their dray - Against them forty times a day), - So firmly stood before the gates - This pair of bloods with wooden pates, - Nor car'd a straw what Asius' crew - Of roaring, noisy whelps could do; - Though in his front Orestes was - Join'd with a buck call'd Acamas; - And Onomaus did appear - With serjeant Thoon in the rear. - But all the airs that they could put on - Did hardly signify a button. - They made a dreadful hubble bubble, - But got their labour for their trouble. - The besom-shafts that hit the gates, - And those that hit these fellows' pates, - Bounc'd with the very self-same sound, - From gates and pates upon the ground; - Which proves that both were sure enough - Made of the self-same kind of stuff. - But still these Lapiths fight and bawl, - And on the Grecian blackguards call: - Yet though they saw the rascals run, - As English guards by chance have done, - They ventur'd by themselves to stay, - Nor would they stir an inch, not they. - - [Illustration: Book XII, page 399. - Now whilst the Greeks possession keep - O' th' walls, they box it ancle-deep, - To save their rotten boats and lighters-- - The Devil never saw such fighters.] - - Like Amadis de Gaul, these elves - Fac'd a whole army by themselves. - Thus have I seen in bushy grounds - Two badgers fight a pack of hounds, - Bite to the bone each forward whelp, - And make the puppies run and yelp: - So these two bucks maintain the battle, - Though broomstaves made their noddles rattle. - - Now whilst the Greeks possession keep - O' th' walls, they box it ancle-deep - To save their rotten boats and lighters-- - The devil never saw such fighters. - As when a keen north wind doth blow, - And brings along both sleet and snow, - You cannot see, so fast it snows, - Above a yard before your nose: - As thick as this, or very nigh, - Brickbats and stones and broomshafts fly, - Spring from their buff-skins with a bound, - And hollow pates and potlids sound. - When Asius found his labour lost, - To make these hangdogs quit their post, - Nor stir an inch, do all he could, - He then began to damn his blood; - And in a furious passion cries, - Not me but Jove himself tells lies! - Else we should long ago have sous'd 'em, - And either in the salt-sea dows'd 'em, - Or fir'd their boats and sing'd the dogs, - As city butchers singe their hogs. - But like a swarm of wasps hard prest, - That gather thick to guard their nest, - Like them, this spiteful Grecian fry - Kick, scratch, and bite, and sting, and die. - But what most frets my guts and gall, - Two thick-skull'd scoundrels stop us all; - 'Tis easier far to break the gates - Than either of these rascals' pates. - - Whilst thus he fum'd as if he'd split, - Jove did not mind his noise a bit, - But sat consid'ring with great care, - How all the glory he could spare - Might fall to honest Hector's share. - Like a poor taylor pinch'd for cloth - To make a suit, yet very loth - To give it up, and leave undone - A job he'd set his heart upon; - So Jove, who promis'd Troy he'd let 'em - Kick all the Greeks about, and sweat 'em, - Was rather puzzled how he might - Manage this hubble-bubble fight, - And not destroy the Grecians quite. - But yet he swears, though hard put to't - (Like Snip the taylor with his suit), - He'd find some way to piece it out. - - The Trojans tried the other gates, - And in return got broken pates; - Nor was that all, for show'rs of stones - The foremost hit, and brake their bones. - O Butler's spirit! help me out - To sing each deed and hero stout; - How Greece, like battle-royal cocks, - Both gave and took most bloody knocks, - Whilst all the gods, for whom these sinners - Had often cook'd up handsome dinners, - Durst neither wag a hand or foot - To help their crony Grecians out-- - Not but they long'd to join the riot; - Jove made the rogues and jades be quiet. - But though the Grecian gods were civil, - Yet, by th' assistance of the devil, - Or some old Scots or Lapland witches, - This pair of thick-skull'd sons of bitches - In mighty wrath kept boxing on, - And knock'd the foremost Trojans down. - One Damasus, a bully rock, - A fellow that would nim a smock - From off a hedge if it was loose, - Or steal a barn-door fowl or goose, - From Polypoetes got a pat, - That knock'd his brains out through his hat; - Then Ormenus he tumbled down, - And crack'd poor Peter Pylon's crown, - An honest soul that kept a pot-house - A little way from Greening's hot-house. - Leonteus then began to stickle, - And laid Hippolachus in pickle - He kept, before the Trojan war, - An oilman's shop near Temple-bar. - Next way'd his quarter-staff, and soon - A buckle-maker of renown, - Antiphates, came rumbling down: - Just as he stepp'd from out the ranks, - He reach'd his legs and broke his shanks. - Iamenus, a great hot-presser, - With Menon too, a leather-dresser; - He nick'd them as full butt they came on, - And in his passion laid a lame on, - By which the first got finely press'd, - And t'other had his skin well dress'd. - Orestes last, a country put, - Got such a cursed knock o' th' gut, - It made him gape so wide, the swain - Could never shut his mouth again. - - Now Hector and Polydamas - Were cuffing at another pass, - Back'd by a blust'ring Trojan crew - Of fellows pick'd, and all true blue, - Resolv'd to fire the Grecian fleet, - And Hector just stark mad to see't; - When, lo! i' th' midst of all the fight, - A most uncommon dreadful sight - Did all their high-flown courage cool, - And almost brought 'em to a stool: - A heron, going out to steal - Some fish for breakfast, caught an eel, - Which he soon gobbled down to fill him, - But did not take much time to kill him; - On which the eel made such a rout - Within his gut, he let him out, - Just at the very time he flew - Over this noisy, roaring crew. - But the poor heron scream'd so loud - To lose his breakfast, all the crowd - Whipp'd up their eyes to look, and soon - They saw the eel come wriggling down: - The dreadful sight amaz'd 'em so, - You might have fell'd 'em with a straw. - The wise Polydamas we find - Rumbled this matter in his mind, - But could not from his gizzard pluck - The eel, it in his stomach stuck; - On which he with a sapient look - Thus to his brother Hector spoke: - - Brother, says he, you often swear - When you my faithful counsel hear; - And though I speak but what I think, - You like a heathen damn and sink; - But I'm a Trojan, and shan't cease - To speak my mind in war or peace; - All Englishmen that do so now, - The people call them Trojans true. - Then take my counsel, if you choose it; - If not, you're welcome to refuse it: - 'Tis for your credit what I say, - For you command, and I obey; - This day depend you'll never do't - (Don't swear till you have heard me out); - The truth I never will conceal; - This long-legg'd bird that sh-- the eel, - Jove sent just now to let us know - How matters with ourselves will go. - The bird had gobbled up his prey, - But could not carry it away. - Thus will it fare with us, depend on't: - I'm sure it will, so mark the end on't: - For though we tumble down the wall, - And fire their rotten boats and all, - I'll eat my hat, if Jove don't drop us, - Or play some queer rogue's trick to stop us. - This by my second-sight I know, - And Endor's witch will tell you so; - Or if she won't, by holy Paul, - I'll make her conjure up king Saul! - - Hector replies in sober sadness: - You'd make a man eat hay for madness; - Blast your long jaws, you conj'ring knave, - Is this the best advice you have? - You know much better things, I'm clear, - But dare not speak your mind for fear. - Did not Jove send down Madam Iris, - The rainbow wench, whose tail on fire is, - To tell us we their bones should thwack? - Then who the devil would turn back? - Did not his rusty bomb-shell roll - Till it half crack'd his mustard-bowl; - And all the noise was to the right, - Only to egg us on to fight? - And think you I'll such orders slight, - Or let a slipp'ry eel, God wot, - Tell me if I shall fight or not? - I own I may a motion feel - To eat a slice of collar'd eel; - But eels can never, I've a notion, - Make Hector feel a running motion, - Unless they make his bowels loose, - Then make him run to th' little house. - A brave man waves his cudgel high, - Asking no witch the reason why, - But for his country's cause ding-dong - Lets fly his broomstick right or wrong: - For thy part, I am pretty sure; - Let who will fall thou'lt sleep secure; - When all thy friends by scores are dropping, - Thou'lt find some dirty hole to pop in; - And, in the steps of Paris treading, - Secure a hole to put your head in. - But if a single Trojan follows - Such rogues' examples, by Apollo's - Red fiery whiskers I shall soon - Be up with you and crack your crown! - I'll keep this broomstick ready for you, - So mind your hits, look sharp and stir you. - - At this he ran, and made a halloo - For all his ragged rogues to follow. - These trusty Trojans, one and all, - Obey their roaring leader's call; - Like him they run, and roar, and shout, - And make their broomsticks fly about - Then Jove from Ida sent a gust, - And blinded all the Greeks with dust-- - A stratagem he just then thought on - Would greatly help this Trojan Broughton. - Thus back'd by Jove, these roysters batter - The walls and gates with dreadful clatter, - Pull up the stakes that fence the wall, - And down the dirt and pebbles fall. - But still the half-blind Grecians yet - Battled as high as they could get, - And sent a nimble-footed swain - To beg the tanners in Long-lane. - Would lend them all their hides in hair, - And tann'd ones too, that they could spare, - With horns and hoofs; all which they laid - To stop the gaps that Hector made; - Then close and box it tooth and nail, - Whilst horns and broomsticks fly like hail. - - The two Ajaces stirr'd their stumps, - And, whilst they deal most bitter thumps - Amongst the Trojans, were not slack - To clap their comrades on the back. - The brave recover'd soon their fright - But rogues they kick'd to make 'em fight; - Whilst one employ'd both foot and hand - In drubbing rogues that durst not stand, - The other spoke these words, or near it-- - And no bad speech but you shall hear it: - - Ye Grecians, who at country fairs - Have shown yourselves good cudgel-players, - By which you've got both hats and fame-- - And ye who hope to do the same-- - Though ev'ry man can't box his two, - Yet something ev'ry man may do; - The strong, good sturdy thumps may deal - To make yon scoundrel Trojans feel, - And roar as loud as they, and louder; - The weak will make good food for powder. - A day is come when great and small - Must look out sharp; there's work for all, - And ev'ry buck that is but bold - May gain new fame, or splice the old, - Hearten the valiant on, and stop - The sneaking rogues that give it up. - Then tune your rusty windpipes all, - And roar as loud as you can bawl; - For though we yield to Troy in whoring, - We sure can match the dogs in roaring: - Thus, if Jove pleases, we once more - May drub 'em as we've done before. - - This speech reviv'd their courage so, - That showers of broken pots they throw. - Have you not seen a sodomite - Advanc'd a very proper height - Upon a rare machine, which we, - The vulgar, call a pillory? - So fast and thick the crowd below - Their rotten eggs and dung bestow, - You see, in less than half an hour, - The rogue and pillory cover'd o'er: - So fast did broken pots and stones - Fly down to break the Trojans' bones. - - Now Hector and his bucks did strive, - The gates from off the hooks to drive: - But did not gain of ground one inch, - Nor would the purblind Grecians flinch. - Jove quickly saw some help they'd need on, - So sent his bastard, bold Sarpedon, - And blew his courage up so high, - He did not seem to walk, but fly; - A greasy leather coat he wore, - And high in air his pot-lid bore; - A mighty furious targe it was, - Made of a cow-skin tipp'd with brass. - He shook two broomstaves thick and strong, - And frowning lugg'd his knaves along. - Thus have I seen an ill-look'd thief, - By sailors call'd a press-gang chief, - Look fierce though by a mob pursu'd, - And ston'd and hiss'd at by the crowd; - Yet, spite of all the distant war, - Seizes some helpless, friendless tar: - Just so this roaring blade Sarpedon - His Lycian shirtless rogues did lead on, - Darting such looks against the wall, - As if he'd eat it stones and all; - Then squinting at his trusty friend, - Who always did his steps attend, - Thus speaks: I'm sore afraid, friend Glaucus, - That all the neighbourhood will joke us. - What boots it then to have it said, - That we chief constables are made, - And therefore with churchwardens dine, - Where we drink beer, and punch, and wine, - Free gratis[2], whilst poor rascals gape, - And as we pass 'em bow and scrape? - What signifies these honours, if - We don't exceed these raff and riff - As much, or rather more, in fighting, - Than either reading well or writing, - Making the thick-skull'd varlets stare - To see us buy our posts so dear, - And own we've earn'd by toil and sweat - More pudding than we e'er shall get? - Then will each cry, Such folks may be - Chief constables, or lords, for me. - Could all our cares but save our breath, - Or ward a broken pate from death, - I would not ask my friend to fight; - More might be lost than gotten by't. - But since grim Death will, soon or late, - Lend us a swingeing knock o' th' pate, - Whether, when once the fray's begun, - We stay to box it out or run, - And Old Age, with his grizzle' locks, - Add gouty pains t' our half-curd pox, - The life that brandy, whores, and claps - Will help old Time to steal by scraps, - Let's boldly risque; that people may, - Whene'er our names are mention'd, say, - With one consent, both young and old, - These honest souls are hearts of gold. - - The speech was hardly clos'd, when this chief - Found his friend ready cock'd for mischief; - The Lycians shake their staves, and follow - Their leaders with a whoop and halloo. - As they mov'd forward, Peteus' son - Look'd sharp, and saw them coming on; - Which put him in so great a fright, - His long lank hair stood bolt upright, - And in his weem he felt a motion - As if he'd ta'en a purging potion; - But what was worst, he hardly felt it - Above a moment, ere he smelt it: - On which he peep'd about to spy - If any trusty Greeks were nigh-- - When to his joy he saw the places - Where Teucer stood with both th' Ajaces, - Fighting like devils on a row; - To whom he roars, So-ho, So-ho! - But might as well have say'd his wind - To cool his pottage; for we find - The clatt'ring cudgels make such noise - As would have drown'd old Stentor's voice, - Full on the walls their broomstaves bump, - And on the gates their brickbats thump, - Making such fearful din and rout, - Jove's thunder seem'd but farting to't. - When thus Menestheus speaks to Thoos; - Those Lycian rogues to hell will blow us, - If you don't run and tell th' Ajaces, - How lamentably bad our case is; - Urge them to scamper to our aid, - For, o' my soul, I'm sore afraid - Of that same roaring Lycian blade. - Say from yourself, Pray, how the pox - Can he defend his sentry-box, - And, all alone, make good his quarters - 'Gainst such a host of Lycian Tartars? - But if hard switch'd themselves they are, - Beg they will bully Ajax spare, - Along with serjeant Teucer, who - Can do good bus'ness with his bow. - - Away he starts, and like a man - Through all the crowd the beadle ran; - He found the bullies on the plain - Boxing it till they smok'd again: - To whom he cries, Whilst here you fight - With riff-raff rogues from morn to night, - Menestheus, in a sad condition, - Has sent me humbly to petition, - That some of you great heroes stout - Will come with me and help him out; - For two great Lycian bullies now - Threaten to thrash him black and blue: - But adds, if on this dang'rous pinch - You seem afraid these buffs will flinch, - He humbly hopes great Ajax, you Sir, - Will come along with serjeant Teucer. - - At this great Ajax faced about - To go himself and help him out; - But though he was no friend to jawing, - And knew 'twas time he should be going, - He thought it proper now to say - Something before he march'd away: - Brave Lycomede, and you Oileus, - Says he, look sharp, and you shall see us - Go drub yon lousy rogues, and then - We'll in a twink be back again; - But take great care you both stand fast, - And battle till your broomsticks last; - For, if you let your courage fail ye, - Depend these Trojan whelps will nail ye! - Then call'd Pandion, Hark ye, you Sir, - Come here and take this bow for Teucer: - Since Hector gave him such a fell blow - Upon his stomach and his elbow, - The harmless lad can scarce with ease - Lug his own share of bread and cheese. - Then with long strides the thick-legg'd elf - Carried his potlid and himself. - Next Teucer after him did go, - And then Pandion with the bow. - - Now on the wall the Lycians lower - Like a black heavy thunder shower; - The Greeks, though mighty weak i' the joints, - Receive 'em on their broomstick points, - Renew the fray with double force, - And roar till they're with roaring hoarse; - And 'midst their bawling and their hissing - They cried, to keep themselves from p--g; - Finding their water would come out, - They thought it best, without dispute, - Rather than wet both breeks and thighs, - To let it bubble--through their eyes. - - Whilst thus they scuffle, Ajax soon - Came up, and fetch'd Epicles down, - A bottle friend of this Sarpedon, - And one that he had often need on; - Because like him no man, 'tis said, - Could ferret out a maidenhead: - By which you see he was an imp, - By honest people call'd a pimp; - But royal pimps despise disgrace, - Because they're sure to get a place, - Though their own sisters they should dish up, - And then stand pimp like scoundrel B-----. - - The clumsy Greek had pois'd his stick, - When he espy'd a double brick - Had tumbled from the wall: not two - Of our poor dogs could throw it now; - Nor even with both hands could raise - (They made large bricks in former days): - He swung it round, away it fled - Ten yards above the Lycian's head, - Then fell upon the varlet's crown, - And with a rattle brought him down. - Have you not seen the yonkers make - A diving-match upon the lake? - Halfpence are to the bottom thrown, - Which he that fetches calls his own; - And that they may the deeper sink, - Pop from the trees that shade the brink: - Thus did the luckless Lycian fall, - And nimbly div'd from off the wall; - But did not when he touch'd the plain - So nimbly find his legs again. - Glaucus was lugging at a stick, - When Teucer gave his arm a prick; - But as he knew his varlets would - All scamper, if they saw his blood, - He took good care to hide the gap, - And whipp'd it under his coat lap; - Then finding he must leave the fray, - Like an old fox he stole away, - Sarpedon saw, and angry grew - To lose his pimp and bully too; - But his great fury to engage, - Soon made him turn his grief to rage, - He seiz'd that time his staff to lay on - A harmless Grecian call'd Alcmaon, - A commissary's clerk, no fighter, - But an accountant and a writer: - Instant a bloody riv'let flows - From the unlucky varlet's nose, - And as upon the grass he tumbled, - His inkhorn 'gainst his ruler rumbled. - Sudden the wall the conqu'ror shakes, - And pulls up all the hedging-stakes: - With such a force he shook, that soon - Rubbish by pecks came tumbling down, - And made a gap as large and wide - As Madame ***'s, that would, if tried, - Admit in any kind of weather, - Two troopers on abreast together. - At this bold Teucer twang'd his bow, - And Ajax let a broomshaft go; - The arrow stuck upon his belt, - The besom-shaft his potlid felt: - But though with rage the stick was cast hard, - Jove swore it should not hurt his bastard. - Howe'er, his fury did not slack, - Although he drew a little back, - Not with design to run, but that - He might repay them tit for tat. - Loud as a bell in Stepney steeple - He thus encouraged all his people: - - Lycians, who feast on cakes and ale, - Let not your noble courage fail, - Else Trojans will be apt to think - Soup meagre's been your meat and drink. - You see with many a bitter rap - I've made at last a handsome gap, - But I shall never gain the top, - Unless you help to shove me up; - Therefore let's join our jowls together, - And pelt 'em spite of wind and weather. - - The Lycians heard this speech, and slap - They ran like smoke to reach the gap. - The Greeks stood stiffly, and as soon - As they came up they knock'd 'em down; - Nor did the Lycians, though so stout, - Force in, or yet be quite kept out. - Thus have I seen within a college - Two learned owls of little knowledge - Dispute for hours, and, when they'd done, - Leave off as wise as they begun; - Nor would they in the annual round - Obtain or lose one inch of ground; - For, you'll observe, a learned tup, - Though wrong, will never give it up. - Just such a stubborn bout this was - To gain or lose the dusty pass. - Many bold Trojans ribs were smack'd, - And many a Grecian's noddle crack'd; - Whilst many a nose ran down with blood, - And soak'd these dusty walls of mud. - Under the Privy-garden wall - Two cupboard-doors compose a stall; - Here you may see old Moggy Briggs - With caution weigh her rotten figs; - No cast o' th' scale she gives the boys, - But sells her ware on equal poise: - Thus neither Greece nor Troy prevails, - But stand like Moggy's rusty scales, - Till bully Hector thund'ring came, - And threw his weight upon the beam; - Mad as a bull he scales the walls, - And for his trusty Trojans calls; - Come here, and bring each man a match, - And we'll the lucky moment catch, - And then, depend on't, in a twinkum, - We'll either burn their boats or sink 'em. - - His voice once heard, these Trojan fighters - Bring out their link-boys and lamplighters; - Not one of all the ragged pack - But lugg'd a ladder on his back, - Which they against the hedgestakes prop. - And in a moment reach the top. - Straight on the walls, the Greeks to fright, - Appear'd to their astonish'd sight - A fearful and amazing light: - Their small remains of courage sinks - To see such shoals of lamps and links. - Then Hector snatch'd up such a stone - As Brandy Nanny stands upon - In Paul's church-yard; it weigh'd, I guess, - 'Bout half a ton, or more or less; - Ten porters, strong as can be found, - Would hardly lift it from the ground - (In these our days of sloth and ease, - When porters work just as they please): - Yet this as easily he flung - As I could do a dried neat's tongue. - But Jove himself, you'll understand, - Lent him a sort of helping hand: - And in these days great Jove could do - As much as popish saints can now. - Thus arm'd, he ran t' attack the gates, - Though rivetted with iron plates: - Nestor, who, when the commonweal - Requir'd his help, could gravely steal - (A trade that soldiers quickly learn), - Had stole 'em from a farmer's barn, - Then drove 'em thick with heads of nails, - Such as you see in country jails, - Where nails are driven all about - To hinder thieves from stealing out: - These gates, though stronger gates could not - At such a time of need be got, - Were quite unable to resist - This weighty stone and mutton fist: - - [Illustration: Book XII, page 431. - These gates, though stronger gates could not - At such a time of need be got, - Were quite unable to resist - This weighty stone and mutton fist.] - - With wondrous force he drove it through - The plank, and broke the bars in two; - In twenty thousand splinters shatter'd, - The farmer's rotten gates lay scatter'd. - But what completed all the jumble, - One gate from off the hinge did tumble. - Then Hector roar'd, Have at your pates! - And darted headlong through the gates: - In either hand he shook a stick, - And look'd as if he'd eat 'em quick: - For strength of fists and breadth of back, - He beat the giant-killer Jack; - And, moving with resistless force, - Seem'd an o'ermatch for man and horse. - The Trojans, with a dismal yell, - Follow'd their thund'ring chief pell-mell, - Whilst the poor Grecians all let fly, - And ran to wipe their breeches dry. - - - - [1] I have heard this evil would long ago have been put a stop to, and -beasts not suffered to be driven through the city; but it was -apprehended it would breed great confusion to take the freedom of the -city from horned cattle. - - [2] Free gratis.--The common people always put these two words together. - - -END OF VOLUME II. - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Burlesque Translation of Homer, by Thomas Bridges - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE TRANSLATION OF HOMER *** - -***** This file should be named 43723.txt or 43723.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/2/43723/ - -Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org -(Scans generously made available by the Internet Archive -- Pittsburgh University.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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