Was, for so full a man-at-arms, only an empty helm.That then he swung about his head, and cast among his friends,
Who scrambled, and took 't up with shouts. Again then he intends
To force the life-blood of his foe, and ran on him amain,
With shaken jav'lin; when the Queen, that lovers loves, again [1]
Attended, and now ravish'd him from that encounter quite,
With ease, and wondrous suddenly; for she, a Goddess, might.
She hid him in a cloud of gold, and never made him known,
Till in his chamber, fresh and sweet, she gently set him down,
And went for Helen; whom she found in Scæa's utmost height,
To which whole swarms of city dames had climb'd to see the sight.
To give her errand good success, she took on her the shape
Of beldame Græa, who was brought by Helen, in her rape,
From Lacedæmon, and had trust in all her secrets still,
Being old, and had (of all her maids) the main bent of her will,
And spun for her her finest wool. Like her, Love's Empress came,
Pull'd Helen by the heav'nly veil, and softly said: "Madame,
My lord calls for you, you must needs make all your kind haste
home;
He's in your chamber, stays, and longs; sits by your bed; pray
come,
'Tis richly made, and sweet; but he more sweet, and looks so clear,
So fresh, and movingly attir'd, that, seeing, you would swear
He came not from the dusky fight, but from a courtly dance,
Or would to dancing." This she made a charm for dalliance;
Whose virtue Helen felt, and knew, by her so radiant eyes,
White neck, and most enticing breasts, the deified disguise.
At which amaz'd, she answer'd her: "Unhappy Deity!
Why lov'st thou still in these deceits to wrap my phantasy?
Or whither yet, of all the towns giv'n to their lust beside,
In Phrygia, or Mæonia, com'st thou to be my guide,
If there (of divers-languag'd men thou hast, as here in Troy,
Some other friend to be my shame; since here thy latest joy
By Menelaus now subdu'd, by him shall I be borne
Home to his court, and end my life in triumphs of his scorn?
And, to this end, would thy deceits my wanton life allure?
Hence, go thyself to Priam's son and all the ways abjure
Of Gods, or godlike-minded dames, nor ever turn again
Thy earth-affecting feet to heav'n but for his sake sustain
Toils here; guard, grace him endlessly, till he requite thy grace
By giving thee my place with him; or take his servant's place,
If, all dishonourable ways, your favours seek to serve
His never-pleas'd incontinence; I better will deserve,
Than serve his dotage now. What shame were it for me to feed
This lust in him; all honour'd dames would hate me for the deed!
He leaves a woman's love so sham'd, and shows so base a mind,
To feel nor my shame nor his own; griefs of a greater kind
Wound me than such as can admit such kind delights so soon."
The Goddess, angry that, past shame, her mere will was not done,
Replied: "Incense me not, you wretch, lest, once incens'd, I leave
Thy curs'd life to as strange a hate, as yet it may receive
A love from me; and lest I spread through both hosts such despite,
For those plagues they have felt for thee, that both abjure thee
quite,
And setting thee in midst of both, turn all their wraths on thee,
And dart thee dead; that such a death may wreak thy wrong of me."
This strook the fair dame with such fear, it took her speech away,
And, shadow'd in her snowy veil, she durst not but obey;
And yet, to shun the shame she fear'd, she vanish'd undescried
Of all the Trojan ladies there, for Venus was her guide.
Arriv'd at home, her women both fell to their work in haste;
When she, that was of all her sex the most divinely grac'd,
Ascended to a higher room, though much against her will,
Where lovely Alexander was, being led by Venus still.
The laughter-loving Dame discen'd her mov'd mind by her grace,
And, for her mirth sake, set a stool, full before Paris' face,
Where she would needs have Helen sit; who, though she durst not
choose
But sit, yet look'd away for all the Goddess' pow'r could use,
And used her tongue too, and to chide whom Venus sooth'd so much,
And chid, too, in this bitter kind: "And was thy cowardice such,
So conquer'd, to be seen alive? O would to God, thy life
Had perish'd by his worthy hand, to whom I first was wife!
Before this, thou wouldst glorify thy valour and thy lance,
And, past my first love's, boast them far. Go once more, and
advance
Thy braves against his single pow'r; this foil might fall by
chance.
Poor conquer'd man! 'Twas such a chance, as I would not advise
Thy valour should provoke again. Shun him, thou most unwise,
Lest next, thy spirit sent to hell, thy body be his prise."
