But not because that on the female part
My blood is better, dare I claim desert, 240
Or that my sire from parricide is free;
But judge by merit betwixt him and me.
The prize be to the best; provided yet,
That Ajax for a while his kin forget,
And his great sire, and greater uncle's name,
To fortify by them his feeble claim:
Be kindred and relation laid aside,
And honor's cause by laws of honor tried;
For, if he plead proximity of blood,
That empty title is with ease withstood.
Peleus, the hero's sire, more nigh than he,
And Pyrrhus his undoubted progeny,
Inherit first these trophies of the field:
To Scyros, or to Phthia, send the shield:
And Teucer has an uncle's right; yet he
Waives his pretensions, nor contends with

me.

250

"O goddess-born! resist not Heav'n's decree,
The fall of Ilium is reserv'd for thee;'
Then seiz'd him, and, produc'd in open light,
Sent blushing to the field the fatal knight.
Mine then are all his actions of the war;
Great Telephus was conquer'd by my spear,
And after cur'd: to me the Thebans owe
Lesbos and Tenedos their overthrow,
Scyros and Cilla: not on all to dwell,
By me Lyrnesus and strong Chrysa fell;
And, since I sent the man who Her slew,
To me the noble Hector's death due:

281

66

wars;

"Nor is this part unexercis'd," said he;

That giant bulk of his from wounds is free:

Safe in his shield he fears no foe to try,
And better manages his blood than I.
But this avails me not; our boaster strove
Not with our foes alone, but partial Jove,
To save the fleet: this I confess is true,
(Nor will I take from any man his due,)
But thus assuming all, he robs from you. 420
Some part of honor to your share will fall;
He did the best indeed, but did not all.
Patroclus in Achilles' arms, and thought
The chief he seem'd, with equal ardor
fought;

Preserv'd the fleet, repell'd the raging fire,
And forc'd the fearful Trojans to retire.
"But Ajax boasts that he was only
thought

430

A match for Hector, who the combat sought:
Sure he forgets the king, the chiefs, and me;
All were as eager for the fight as he;
He but the ninth, and, not by public voice
Or ours preferr'd, was only fortune's choice.
They fought, nor can our hero boast the
event,

66

For Hector from the field unwounded went. 'Why am I forc'd to name that fatal day That snatch'd the prop and pride of Greece away?

I saw Pelides sink, with pious grief,
And ran in vain, alas! to his relief;
For the brave soul was fled: full of my

Our riper manhood we reserv'd for you. But grant me guilty, 't is not much my care, When with so great a man my guilt I share: My wit to war the matchless hero brought, But by this fool I never had been caught.

"Nor need I wonder that on me he threw Such foul aspersions, when he spares not

The traitor manifest, the bribe reveal'd.
"That Philoctetes is on Lemnos left,
Wounded, forlorn, of human aid bereft,
Is not my crime, or not my crime alone;
Defend your justice, for the fact's your

own:

'Tis true, th' advice was mine; that staying there

He might his weary limbs with rest repair,

From a long voyage free, and from a

He took the counsel, and he lives at least; Th' event declares I counsel'd for the best:

520

Yet while she was in Troy, did Troy defend.
Now what has Ajax done, or what design'd,
A noisy nothing, and an empty wind?
If he be what he promises in show,
Why was I sent, and why fear'd he to go?
Our boasting champion thought the task
not light

To pass the guards, commit himself to night;

Not only thro' a hostile town to pass,
But scale, with steep ascent, the sacred place;
With wand'ring steps to search the citadel,
And from the priests their patroness to
steal:

Tydides had indeed a worthy share

In all my toil and praise; but when thy might

Our ships protected, didst thou singly fight? All join'd, and thou of many wert but one; I ask'd no friend, nor had, but him alone; 540 Who, had he not been well assur'd that art And conduct were of war the better part, And more avail'd than strength, my valiant friend

Had urg'd a better right than Ajax can pretend:

As good at least Eurypylus may claim, And the more moderate Ajax of the name; The Cretan king, and his brave charioteer, And Menelaus bold with sword and spearAll these had been my rivals in the shield, And yet all these to my pretensions yield.

550

Thy boist'rous hands are then of use, when I With this directing head those hands apply. Brawn without brain is thine; my prudent

Than he who fights, and fighting but obeys; By so much greater is my worth than thine, Who canst but execute what I design. What gain'st thou, brutal man, if I confess Thy strength superior, when thy wit is

less?

Mind is the man: I claim my whole desert From the mind's vigor, and th' immortal part.

"But you, O Grecian chiefs, reward my

care,

571

Be grateful to your watchman of the war.
For all my labors in so long a space,
Sure I may plead a title to your grace:
Enter the town; I then unbarr'd the gates,
When I remov'd their tutelary fates.
By all our common hopes, if hopes they be
Which I have now reduc'd to certainty;

"Art mine; Ulysses lays no claim to thee. O often tried and ever trusty sword, Now do thy last kind office to thy lord: 600 'Tis Ajax who requests thy aid, to show None but himself himself could overthrow." He said, and with so good a will to die Did to his breast the fatal point apply: It found his heart, a way till then unknown,

Where never weapon enter'd but his own; No hands could force it thence, so fix'd it stood,

Till out it rush'd, expell'd by streams of spouting blood.

The fruitful blood produc'd a flow'r, which grew

On a green stem, and of a purple hue: 610 Like his, whom unaware Apollo slew. Inscrib'd in both, the letters are the same, But those express the grief, and these the

name.

THE WIFE OF BATH, HER TALE [FROM CHAUCER]

IN days of old, when Arthur fill'd the throne,

Whose acts and fame to foreign lands were blown,

The king of elfs and little fairy queen Gambol'd on heaths, and danc'd on ev'ry green;

And where the jolly troop had led the round,

The grass unbidden rose, and mark'd the ground:

Nor darkling did they dance; the silver

light

Of Phoebe serv'd to guide their steps aright,

And, with their tripping pleas'd, prolong'd the night.

Her beams they follow'd, where at full she play'd,

ΤΟ

Nor longer than she shed her horns they stay'd,

From thence with airy flight to foreign lands convey'd.

Above the rest our Britain held they dear; More solemnly they kept their sabbaths here,

And made more spacious rings, and
revel'd half the year.

I speak of ancient times, for now the
swain

Returning late may pass the woods in
vain,

And never hope to see the nightly train; In vain the dairy now with mints is dress'd,

The dairymaid expects no fairy guest, 20 To skim the bowls, and after pay the feast. She sighs, and shakes her empty shoes in vain,

No silver penny to reward her pain: For priests with pray'rs, and other godly gear,

Have made the merry goblins disappear; And where they play'd their merry pranks

before,