Shall never find us.” This resolv’d, into his kind embrace He took his wife. Beneath them both fair Tellus strew’d the place With fresh-sprung herbs, so soft and thick that up aloft it bore Their heav’nly bodies; with his leaves, did dewy lotus store Th’ Elysian mountain; saffron flow’rs and hyacinths help’d make The sacred bed; and there they slept. When suddenly there brake A golden vapour out of air, whence shining dews did fall, In which they wrapt them close, and slept till Jove was tam’d withal. Mean space flew Somnus to the ships, found Neptune out, and said: “Now cheerfully assist the Greeks; and give them glorious head, At least a little, while Jove sleeps; of whom through ev’ry limb I pour’d dark sleep, Saturnia’s love hath so illuded him.” This news made Neptune more secure in giving Grecians heart, And through the first fights thus he stirr’d the men of most desert: “Yet, Grecians, shall we put our ships, and conquest, in the hands Of Priam’s Hector by our sloth? He thinks so, and commands With pride according; all because, Achilles keeps away. Alas, as we were nought but him! We little need to stay On his assistance, if we would our own strengths call to field, And mutually maintain repulse. Come on then, all men yield To what I order. We that bear best arms in all our hosts, Whose heads sustain the brightest helms, whose hands are bristled most With longest lances, let us on. But stay, I’ll lead you all; Nor think I but great Hector’s spirits will suffer some appall, Though they be never so inspir’d. The ablest of us then, That on our shoulders worst shields bear, exchange with worser men That fight with better.” This propos’d, all heard it, and obey’d. The kings, ev’n those that suffer’d wounds, Ulysses, Diomed, And Agamemnon, helpt t’ instruct the cómplete army thus: To good gave good arms, worse to worse, yet none were mutinous. Thus, arm’d with order, forth they flew; the great Earth-shaker led, A long sword in his sinewy hand, which when he brandishéd It lighten’d still, there was no law for him and it, poor men Must quake before them. These thus mann’d, illustrious Hector then His host brought up. The blue-hair’d God and he stretch’d through the prease A grievous fight; when to the ships and tents of Greece the seas Brake loose, and rag’d. But when they join’d, the dreadful clamour rose To such a height, as not the sea, when up the North-spirit blows Her raging billows, bellows so against the beaten shore; Nor such a rustling keeps a fire, driven with violent blore Through woods that grow against a hill; nor so the fervent strokes Of almost-bursting winds resound against a grove of oaks; As did the clamour of these hosts, when both the battles clos’d. Of all which noble Hector first at Ajax’ breast dispos’d His jav’lin, since so right on him the great-soul’d soldier bore; Nor miss’d it, but the bawdricks both that his broad bosom wore, To hang his shield and sword, it strook; both which his flesh preserv’d.