Lies the true proof of Men: The Sea being smooth,
How many fhallow bauble Boats dare fail
Upon her patient Breast, making their way
With those of noble Bulk?
But let the Ruffian Borcas once enrage
The gentle Thetis, and anon, behold,
The strong ribb'd Bark thro' liquid Mountains cuts,
Bounding between the two moift Elements,
Like Perfeus Horfe: Where's then the fawcy Boat,
Whose weak untimber'd fides but even now
Co-rival'd Greatnefs? Either to harbour fled,
Or made a Toft for Neptune. Even fo,
Doth Valour's fhew, and Valour's worth divide
In ftorms of Fortune.
For, in her ray and brightness,
The Herd hath more annoyance by the Brize
Than by the Tyger: But, when the splitting Wind
Makes flexible the knees of knotted Oaks,
And Flies fled under fhade, why then
The thing of Courage,
As rowz'd with rage, with rage doth fympathize,
And with an accent tun'd in felf-fame Key,
Retires to chiding Fortune.
Thou great Commander, Nerve and Bone of Greece,
Heart of our Numbers, Soul, and only Spirit,
In whom the Tempers, and the Minds of all
Should be shut up: Hear what Vlyffes speaks.
Befides th' Applause and Approbation
The which, moft Mighty, for thy Place and Merit, [To Aga. And thou moft reverend for thy ftretcht-out Life, [To Neft.
I give to both your Speeches, which were fuch,
As Agamemnon and the Hand of Greece
Should hold up high in Brafs; and fuch again
As venerable Neftor (hatch'd in Silver)
Should with a bond of Air, ftrong as the Axle-tree
On which the Heavens ride, knit all Greeks Ears
To his experienc'd Tongue: Yet let it pleafe both
(Thou Great and Wife) to hear Ulyffes fpeak.
Aga. Speak, Prince of Ithaca: and be't of lefs expect,
That matter needlefs, of importless burthen
VOL. IV.
Divide thy Lips; than we are confident,
When rank Therfites opes his mastiff Jaws,
We shall hear Mufick, Wit, and Oracle.
Vlyf. Troy, yet upon her Bafis, had been down,
And the great Hector's Sword had lack'd a Mafter,
But for thefe inftances.
The fpeciality of Rule hath been neglected;
And lock how many Grecian Tents do ftand
Hollow upon this Plain, fo many hollow Factions.
When that the General is not like the Hive,
To whom the Foragers fhall all repair,
What Hony is expected? Degree being vizarded,
Th' unworthieft fhews as fairly in the Mask.
The Heavens themselves, the Planets, and this Center,
Obferve degree, priority and place,
Infifture, courfe, proportion, feafon, form,
Office and cuftom, in all line of Order:
And therefore is the glorious Planet Sol,
In noble Eminence, enthron'd and fphear'd
Amidst the other, whofe med'cinable Eye
Corrects the ill Afpects of Planets evil,
And pofts like the Command'ment of a King,
Sans check, to good and bad. But when the Planets
In evil mixture to diforder wander,
What Plagues, and what Portents, what Mutiny?
What raging of the Sea? fhaking of Earth?
Commotion in the Winds? Frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
The unity, and married calm of States
Quite from their fixure? O, when Degree is fhaken,
(Which is the Ladder to all high Defigns)
The Enterprize is fick. How could Communities,
Degrees in Schools, and Brotherhoods in Cities,
Peaceful Commerce from dividable Shores,
The Primogeniture, and due of Birth,
Prerogative of Age, Crowns, Scepters, Lawrels,
(But by Degree) ftand in Authentick Place?
Take but Degree away, untune that String,
And hark what Difcord follows; each thing meets
In meer oppugnancy. The bounded Waters
Would lift their Bofoms higher than the Shores,
And make a fop of all this folid Globe:
Strength would be Lord of Imbecility,
And the rude Son would ftrike his Father dead:
Force would be Right; or rather, Right and Wrong.
(Between whofe endless jar Juftice refides)
Would lofe their Names, and fo would Juftice too.
Then every thing includes it felf in Power,
Power into Will, Will into Appetite,
And Appetite (an univerfal Wolf,
So doubly feconded with Will and Power)
Must make perforce an univerfal prey,
And laft, eat up himself.
This Chaos, when Degree is fuffocate;
Follows the choaking:
And this neglection of Degree is it,
That by a pace goes backward, in a purpose
It hath to climb. The General's difdain'd
By him one step below; he by the next;
That next, by him beneath: So every step,
Exampled by the firft pace, that is fick
Of his Superior, grows to an envious Fever
Of pale and bloodless Emulation.
And 'tis this Fever that keeps Troy on foot,
Not her own Sinews. To end a Tale of length
Troy in our weakness lives, not in her ftrength.
Neft. Moft wifely hath Vlyffes here difcover'd
The Fever, whereof all our Power is fick.
Aga. The Nature of the ficknefs found, Vlyffes,
What is the Remedy?
Vlyf. The great Achilles, whom Opinion crowns The Sinew, and the Fore-hand of our Hoft,
Having his Ear full of his airy Fame,
Grows dainty of his Worth, and in his Tent
Lies mocking our Defigns. With him Patrocl
Upon a lazy Bed, the live-long day
And with ridiculous and aukward Action, (Which, Slanderer, he imitation calls)
He Pageants us. Sometime, great Agamemnon;
Thy topless Deputation he puts on;
And like a ftrutting Player, whofe Conceit
Lies in his Ham-ftring, and doth think it rich
To hear the wooden Dialogue and Sound
'Twixt his ftretch'd footing, and the Scaffoldage,
(Such to-be-pitied, and o'er-refted feeming
He acts thy Greatnefs in) and when he speaks,
'Tis like a Chime a mending; with terms unfquar'd;
Which from the Tongue of roaring Typhon dropt,
Would feem Hyperboles. At this fully stuff
The large Achilles, on his preft-bed lolling,
From his deep Cheft, laughs out a loud Applaufe:
Cries excellent!-'tis Agamemnon just.
Now play me Neftor-hum, and stroke thy Beard
As he, being dreft to fome Oration:
That's done; as near as the extreameft Ends
Of Parallels; as like as Vulcan and his Wife:
Yet good Achilles ftill cries, Excellent!
'Tis Neftor right! Now play him, me, Patroclus,
Arming to anfwer in a Night-alarm-
And then, forfooth, the faint defects of Age
Must be the Scene of Mirth, to cough and fpit,
And with a Palfie fumbling on his Gorget,
Shake in and out the Rivetand at this fport,
Sir Valour dies; cries, O!-enough Patroclus-
Or, give me Ribs of Steel, I fhall split all
In pleasure of my Spleen. And in this fashion
All our Abilities, Gifts, Natures, Shapes,
Severals and generals of Grace exact,
Atchievements, Plots, Orders, Preventions,
Excitements to the Field, or fpeech for Truce,
Succefs or Lofs, what is, or is not, ferves
As ftuff for thefe two, to make Paradoxes.
Neft. And in the Imitation of these twain,
Who, as Ulyffes fays, Opinion crowns
With an Imperial Voice, many are infect:
Ajax is grown felf-will'd, and bears his Head,
In fuch a Rein, in full as proud a place,
As broad Achilles, and keeps his Tent like him;
Makes factious Feafts, rai's on our ftate of War,
Bold as an Oracle, and fets Therfites
A Stave (whofe Gall coins Slanders like a Mint)
To match us in Comparisons with Dirt,
To weaken and difcredit our exposure,
How rank foever rounded in with danger.
Vlyf. They tax our Policy, and call it Cowardife,
Count Wisdom as no Member of the War,
Fore-ftall our Prefcience, and efteem no A&,
But that of Hand: The ftill and mental Parts,
That do contrive how many Hands shall strike
When fitness calls them on, and know by measure
Of their obfervant Toil, the Enemies weight,
Why this hath not a Finger's dignity;
They call this Bed-work, Mapp'ry, Clofet-War :
So that the Ram, that batters down the Wall,
For the great fwing and rudeness of his poize,
They place before his Hand that made the Engine,
Or those that with the fineness of their Souls,
By Reafon guide his Execution.
Neft. Let this be granted, and Achilles Horfe
Makes many Thetis' Sons.
Aga. What Trumpet? Look Menelaus.
Aga. What would you 'fore our Tent?
Ane. Is this great Agamemnon's Tent, I pray you?
Aga. Even this.
Ane. May one that is a Herald and a Prince,
Do a fair Meffage to his Kingly Ears?
Aga. With furety ftronger than Achilles Arm,
'Fore all the Greekih Heads, which with one voice
Call Agamemnon Head and General.
Ane Fair leave, and large fecurity. How may
A ftranger to thofe moft Imperial Looks,
Know them from Eyes of other Mortals?
Aga. How?
Ane. Ay: I ask, that I might waken Reverence,
And on the Cheek be ready with a blush
Modeft as Morning, when the coldly eyes
The youthful Phabus:
Which is that God in Office, guiding Men?
Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon ?
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