Of lynces, wolves, and lëopards, as never born to war. Nor durst these Trojans at first siege, in any least degree, Expect your strength, or stand one shock of Grecian chivalry; Yet now, far from their walls, they dare fight at our fleet maintain, All by our Gen’ral’s cowardice, that doth infect his men Who, still at odds with him, for that will needs themselves neglect, And suffer slaughter in their ships. Suppose there was defect (Beyond all question) in our king, to wrong Æacides, And he, for his particular wreak, from all assistance cease; We must not cease t’ assist ourselves. Forgive our Gen’ral then, And quickly too. Apt to forgive are all good-minded men. Yet you, quite void of their good minds, give good, in you quite lost, For ill in others, though ye be the worthiest of your host. As old as I am, I would scorn, to fight with one that flies, Or leaves the fight as you do now. The Gen’ral slothful lies, And you, though slothful too, maintain with him a fight of spleen. Out, out, I hate ye from my heart. Ye rotten-minded men, In this ye add an ill that’s worse than all your sloth’s dislikes. But as I know to all your hearts my reprehension strikes, So thither let just shame strike too; for while you stand still here A mighty fight swarms at your fleet, great Hector rageth there, Hath burst the long bar and the gates.” Thus Neptune rous’d these men, And round about th’ Ajaces did their phalanxes maintain Their station firm; whom Mars himself, had he amongst them gone, Could not disparage, nor Jove’s Maid that sets men fiercer on; For now the best were chosen out, and they receiv’d th’ advance Of Hector and his men so full, that lance was lin’d with lance, Shields thicken’d with opposéd shields, targets to targets nail’d, Helms stuck to helms, and man to man grew, they so close assail’d, Plum’d casques were hang’d in either’s plumes, all join’d so close their stands, Their lances stood, thrust out so thick by such all-daring hands, All bent their firm breasts to the point, and made sad fight their joy Of both. Troy all in heaps strook first, and Hector first of Troy. And as a round piece of a rock, which with a winter’s flood Is from his top torn, when a show’r, pour’d from a bursten cloud, Hath broke the natural bond it held within the rough steep rock, And, jumping, it flies down the woods, resounding ev’ry shock, And on, uncheck’d, it headlong leaps, till in a plain it stay, And then, though never so impell’d, it stirs not any way; So Hector hereto throated threats, to go to sea in blood, And reach the Grecian ships and tents, without being once withstood. But when he fell into the strengths the Grecians did maintain, And that they fought upon the square, he stood as fetter’d then; And so the adverse sons of Greece laid on with swords and darts, Whose both ends hurt, that they repell’d his worst; and he converts His threats, by all means, to retreats; yet made as he retir’d, Only t’ encourage those behind; and thus those men inspir’d: