Early Modern Mythological Texts: Troia Britanica I (51-103)
Thomas Heywood. Troia Britanica (1609)
CANTO I (51-103)
Stanzas 51-60 — 61-70 — 71-80 — 81-90 — 91-103 — Heywood’s Endnotes to Canto I — Back to Stanzas 1-50
Ed. Frédéric DELORD
For so the king commanded; being a king,
He thought it base if he should break his word.
O golden days, of which the poets sing,
How many can this Iron Age afford
That hold a promise such a precious thing,
Rather to yield their children to the sword,
Than that the world should say: “thy oath thou breakest,
Or wast so base, to eat the word thou spakest”.
Such difference is ’twixt this, and that of Gold,
We in our sins are stronger; virtue’s weaker;
Words tied them fast, but us no bonds can hold;
They held it viled to be a promise-breaker;
A liar was as strange in times of old,
As to find out amongst us a true speaker;
Their hearts were of pure metal, ours have flaws,
Now laws are words; in those days, words were laws.
The funeral of the first slain infant ended,
And the sad days of mourning quite expired,
At which the piteous queen was most offended,
But now her spirits with dull sorrows tired,
The king a second metting hath intended
And the queen’s nuptial bed again desired;
Sibyl conceives, and in her womb doth cherish
More children, ready in their birth to perish.
And growing near her time, the sorrowful father,
Displeased to see his wife so apt to bear,
Who for his vow’s sake wish her barren rather
—The murder of his first son touched him near—
Sends through his land a kingly train to gather,
And makes for Delphos, hoping he shall hear
Some better comfort from the Delphian shrine,
Whose oracles the king esteems divine.
He therefore first his sacrifice prepares,
And on Apollo’s altar incense burns;
Then, kneeling to the oracle, his prayers
Mount with the sacred fume, which ne’er returns
Till the pleased God, acquainted with his cares,
Looks down from heaven, and sees him how he mourns,
Desiring that his power would nothing hide,
But tell what of her next birth should betide.
With that, there fell a storm of rain and thunder,
The temple was all fire, the altar shook,
The golden roof above, and pavement under,
Trembled at once; about ’gan Saturn look,
To see what heavenly power had caused this wonder;
Fain he the holy place would have forsook,
When th’Oracle thus spake: “Thy wife grows great,
With one that shall depose thee from thy seat.
For from her royal womb shall one proceed
That in despite of thee in Crete shall dwell.
So have the never-changing Fates decreed,
Such is the Oracle’s thrice sacred spell:
A son shall issue from king Saturn’s seed,
That shall enforce his father down to Hell”.
This heard, the discontented king arose,
And, doubly sad, away to Crete he goes.
What shall he do? Fair Sibyl’s time draws near,
And if the lad which she brings forth survive,
The news will stretch unto his brother’s ear,
To whom he sware to keep no male alive;
Besides, a second cause he hath to fear,
Lest he his father from his kingdom drive.
Then, to prevent these ills, he swears on high,
In spite of Fate, the infant borne shall die.
Yet when the king his first son’s death records,
In his resolvèd thoughts it breeds relenting,
The bloody and unnatural act affords
His troubled thoughts fresh cause of discontenting.
None dare approach his presence, queen, nor lords,
That to his first child’s death had been consenting;
The first unnatural act appears so viled,
The king intends to save his second child.
So oft as he the murder calls to mind,
So oft he vows the second son to save;
But thinking on his covenant, grows unkind
And dooms it straight unto a timeless grave.
Again, the name of son would pity find,
And for his oath some refuge seeks to have;
But when the oracle he doth recall,
The very thought of that confounded all.
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So dear to him his crown and state appeared That he his pomp before his blood preferred; It joys him to command and to live feared, And now he thinks his foolish pity erred, And setting light his issue, seems well cheered. His fortune to the gods he hath referred, Rather than lose his sceptre, ’tis decreed, Had he ten thousand brats, they all should bleed. |
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Resolved thus, news is brought him by his mother, That Sibyl, late in travail, is delivered Of two fair twins, a sister, and a brother. At this report, his heart is well nigh shivered. “Go, spare the th’one”, quoth he, “and kill the t’other”. “Alas”, saith she, “we women are pale-livered And have not heart to kill: no beast so wild Or brutish, but would spare so sweet a child. |
The birth of Jupiter and Juno
Abraham enters Canaan; 24 years after, circumcision was commanded, and Sodom and Gomorrah burned. |
And shall a father then so madly fare
With his own issue, his child’s blood to spill?
And whom the tigers and fell beasts would spare,
Shall reasonable man presume to kill?
The birds more tender o’er their young ones are,
Fishes are kind unto their issue still.
Fish, bird, and beast, in sea, air, earth, that breedeth,
Though reasonless, her tender young ones feedeth”.
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Further she was proceeding, when the son, An ireful frown upon his mother threw: “Away”, quoth he, “and to Sibylla run, And let the same hand that my first born slew Destroy this too, for as we have begun We will persist.” The lady, sad, withdrew, Afraid and grieved at once to see him moved, Whom, as her king she feared, her son she loved. |
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No sooner was she out of sight but he
One of his trusty servants calls on high,
Who waits his pleasure on his bended knee;
“Quickly”, quoth Saturn, “after Vesta fly,
Say, if the brat survive, Sibyl and she
As traitors to our person, both shall die.”
He’s gone, and little in the king doth lack,
At his departure to have called him back.
Twice was the word half out, and twice kept in,
Fain he would have it done, and fain neglected.
He thinks damned parricide an ugly sin,
But worse he thinks from state to be dejected,
Never hath prince in such distraction been,
His blood he loved, his kingdom he affected.
But since he cannot both at once enjoy,
His state he’ll save, his issue he’ll destroy.
Ambition to his fiery rage gave fuel.
He now remembers not his Sibyl’s tears,
Whose tender heart laments to lose her jewel.
No spark of pity in his look appears,
It sports him only to be termed cruel,
At name of father, now he stops his ears.
Had not his crown, more than his covenant, tempted,
Sibyl, thy son had been from death exempted.
But the command is gone, and in his breast
He now revolves the vileness of the deed.
Sceptre, and crown, and life he doth detest,
Within him, his remorseful entrails bleed.
And now at length, the king would think him blessed,
Might he together perish with his seed.
And that which most his melancholy furthers,
He knows the world condemns him for his murders.
No joy can cheer, no object make him glad;
The days in sighs, the nights in tears he spends,
Nothing can please him, be it good or bad.
His troubled and crazed senses it offends,
That he is now surnamed “Saturn the Sad”.
He sets not by alliance, strangers, friends.
Here leave him in the depth of his despairs,
A melancholy king, composed of cares.
And to the queen return, who sadly waits
Her infant’s execution or reprieve.
“Did Saturn see this boy?”, she thus debates,
“That he would kill him, I can scarce believe.
Alas! poor infants born to woeful fates,
What corsick heart such harmless souls can grieve!”
Thus lies the queen, till from her lord she hear,
Half cheered with hope, and half destroyed through fear.
In Vesta comes; her sad cheer Sibyl spies,
And in her bed, though weak, herself sh’advanced,
She might have read the message in her eyes,
For as upon the smiling babe she glanced,
She filled the chamber with loud shrieks and cries,
At which the woeful mother was entranced:
The grandam, in her eyes the king’s will showing,
The mother, by her looks, her meaning knowing.
Not long in this strange sorrow they remained,
But the king’s servant ‘mongst the women presseth
A general flush the matron’s cheeks hath stained,
And his own blush, joining with theirs, confesseth
That place unfit for him; yet none complained,
For everyone his cause of coming guesseth;
Knowing the gentle knight would not present him
In such a place, unless the king had sent him.
On whom, as more attentively they gaze,
“Thus wills the king”, quoth he, “my son shall die;
In vain with sorrowful tears your eyes you glaze,
Or fill this chamber with a general cry.
He for the heart of his young infant stays;
Which if his mother, or his queen deny,
They shall abide like doom, he’ll have their hearts.”
The message ended thus, the knight departs.
So long in sorrow’s sympathy they mourned
That with excess of grief their souls were tired.
Now for a space they have their fears adjourned,
And of the king’s displeasure more inquired.
At length their mourning into madness turned.
Quoth Sibyl, “No base murderer shall be hired
To work this outrage, so the king hath willed,
And by my hand the sweet babe shall be killed”.
With that, a knife the wrathful Sibyl snatched,
And bent the point against the infant’s breast,
Thinking to have his innocent life dispatched,
And sent his soul unto eternal rest.
The lad his mother by the bosom catched,
And smiling in her face, that was addressed
To strike him dead, away she hurls the knife,
And saith: “Sweet babe, that smile hath saved thy life!”
“Then give it me”, quoth Vesta, “for take heed,
My son hath charged us on our lives, to slay him,
The infant by his grandam’s hand shall bleed,
So wills the king—what’s she that dares gainsay him?
My agèd hand shall act this ruthless deed,
And I that should protect him, will betray him.”
She aims to strike, at which the infant smiled,
And she, instead of killing, kissed the child.
“Are you so timorous?”, quoth the midwife by,
“Or do you count this babe so dear a treasure?
Know you not if we save him, we shall die,
And shall we hazard death in such high measure?
Though you would slight it, by my life not I.
I am more fearful of the king’s displeasure.”
With that, a keener blade the beldam drew:
The babe still smiled, away the knife she threw.
When they behold the beauty of the lad,
They vow within themselves his life to save,
But then the king’s injunction makes them sad,
And straight, alas, they doom it to the grave.
Now with their blades in hand, like beldams mad,
They menace death. Then smiles the pretty knave,
Then fall their knives, then name they the king’s will,
And then again they threat the babe to kill.
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Three times by turns the infant passed their hands, And three times thrice, the knife’s point touched his skin, And each of them as oft confounded stands. Such pity did his smiling beauty win That more than they esteem their lives or lands, They all abhor the vileness of the sin. At length they all consult with heedful care, To save their own lives, and the child to spare. |
Jupiter saved |
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Saith Vesta: “In the bordering province dwells Old Melisseus, a renownèd king. His daughters I brought up in sacred spells, And taught them chores, to sew, to weave, to sing. No lady living these bright dames excels In virtuous thews, good graces, everything. To these my little grandchild I will send, And to their trust, this precious charge commend. |
Melisseus king of Epire |
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Fair Almache and Mellissee I know, —For so these virtuous ladies have to name— Will, when they understand what queen doth owe This royal issue, and from whence it came, Their best and choicest entertainment show, And to no ear our secret act proclaim; Thus they conclude, all needful things are fetched, And on her way a trusty maid dispatched, |
Alias, Adrastea and Ida Apollonius Rhodius, lib. 3, Argonautica, Pausanias in Messeniacis Lactantius, liber de Falsa Religione |
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Who in the city Oson safe arriving, To the two sisters she her charge presents; They, glad to hear of Vesta still surviving, Yet grieved at her cause of discontents, Welcome the damsel, in their honours striving To cheer her, who as doubtful still laments, Not knowing yet how the young prince shall speed, Or what the provident sisters have decreed. |
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The courteous virgins, hearing the sad story,
Of virtuous Sibyl and her son related,
Both for the mother and the son are sorry,
And having with themselves a while debated,
They hold their womanish pity much more glory
Than to be rude and cruel estimated;
And now their studies are, the babe to hide,
And for his careful fostering to provide.
They bear him to a mountain, in whose brow
A cave was digged; the round mouth was so straight
That at the entry, you of force must bow;
But entered once, the room was full of state.
This cavern for the darkness they allow
To shield the infant from the father’s hate;
Which, being selected as a place most meet,
The damsel is again sent back to Crete.
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With milk of goats they nursed him for a space, Till Fortune on a time so well provided, That, when to still the babe, who cried apace, They sounded cymbals, and with tunes divided Strook on their timbrels, by some wondrous grace, A swarm of bees was by, that music guided Into the place, who made the cave their hive, And with their honey, kept the child alive. |
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By this the damsel is returned again
And all the news to Vesta hath related,
What provident care the royal dames have ta’en
To save the Prince, how well they have requited
Her former love; still Saturn thinks it slain,
Being with the terror of his death affrighted,
Which in the King’s opinion, to make good,
Vesta salutes him with a cup of blood.
An abbest stone into the bowl was brayed,
It showed like the babe’s heart, beaten to powder.
The dowager in funeral black arrayed,
With reverence to her son and sovereign bowed her
—Women have tears at will their wiles to aid
And she hath plenty to her plot allowed her.
“See here,” quoth she, and as she more would say,
Grief strikes her mute, and turns her head away.
Again she would proceed, again she faileth,
But the third time begins her sad oration:
“See here thy son, whose loss thy wife bewaileth,
Murdered and massacred in piteous fashion.
In vain against the froward Fate she raileth,
In vain she tears her eyes in extreme passion,
Saturn hath to this cruel act constrained her,
And see of thy young son the poor remainder.
Now mayst thou keep thine oath with Titan’s seed,
Yet that thou cruel art, I needs must tell thee,
Never did tiger father such a deed,
In tyranny the wolves cannot excel thee!
Now mayst thou safely wear thy imperial weed,
Can this thy issue from thy throne expel thee?
This blood can never govern in thy stead,
Alas, poor grandchild, thou too late hast bled”.
Th’unwelcome news seem welcome to his ears,
And yet he wishes they awhile had stayed;
That the viled deed is done, he glad appears,
Yet in his gladness, he seems ill-apaid.
She moves the king with her laments and tears,
—What cannot weeping women men persuade?—
The king in sorrow of his son late dead,
Vows ever to abjure queen Sibyl’s bed.
And whilst the warm blood reeked before his eyes,
No wonder if he purposed as he spake,
But when the beauty of his queen he spies,
Her graces moved him, and his vow he brake.
Such charming virtue in her beauty lies,
That he forgets the rash oath he did make.
And rather than his nuptial sweets forbear,
He’ll sacrifice a young son every year.
These storms blown over and their sorrows spent
—For violent tempests never long remained—,
The king young Juno to Parthemia sent,
There amongst Princes’ daughters to be trained.
To do her honours is his whole intent,
Since his son’s blood by timeless Fate is drained.
No marvel, if to honour her he strive,
Knowing, save her, no issue left alive.
Time keeps his course, the king and queen oft meet,
And once again she hath conceived a male.
The lad in secret is conveyed from Crete
To Athens, in a vessel swift of sail.
Th’ Athenian King, they with the infant greet,
Who the babe’s fortunes sadly doth bewail
And the young Neptune fairly doth entreat,
And trains him like the son of one so great.
The husband king, who no such guile surmised,
Is by the crafty women mocked again.
New tears are coined, a second trick devised,
To make him think that issue likewise slain.
Once more the king with sadness is surprised,
One more appeased, for tears he knows are vain;
Again the king and queen are met in bed,
And in small process, she again is sped.
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A son and daughter at this birth she bare; The son she hides, the daughter she discloseth. The son she Pluto named; the wind stood fair, And him into Thessalia she disposeth. The messenger applies with earnest care Her tedious journey, for no time she loseth. Whilst the twin-brother she is forced to hide, Her daughter Glauca in her childhood died. |
The birth of Pluto and Glauca |
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Neptune was nursed by Arno, after growing To manhood, fairefoot Amphitrite he Would have espoused, but she her beauty knowing, Despised the sea god, thinking to live free, Wherefore he sends the dolphin, who straight showing His master’s thoughts, the lover’s soon agree, Forwith the dolphin’s sign to heaven was borne, And placed on high, not far from Capricorn. |
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The untamed gennet he did first bestride, And made him servant to the use of man. Before him, no man durst presume to ride, Famous alone he was in Athens then. He coupled first the steeds, and curbed their pride, And by his art, the armèd chariot ran. Therefore, as greatest honour to his state, The horse to him was freely consecrate. |
Pausanias in Arcadicis. |
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And when he travels o’er the foamy waves, With four sea-palfreys he is drawn along By sundry nymphs and girls whose love he craves; Fourscore fair sons he got, surpassing strong, Who cities built, and menaced hostile braves ’Gainst tyrants that usurped their states by wrong. He riders graced and sea-men gladly cheered, And by his hands, the walls of Troy were reared. |
Apollon. lib. 4
Tzetzes, History 51
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To him three temples consecrated were, Of great magnificence. In Isthmus one, In Taenarus a second did appear, A structure, in that Isle, famous alone; A third to him the stout Calabrians rear; Semblant to these, through all the world were none. Upon these shrines, to make his glories full, The people used to sacrifice a bull. |
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Pluto, whom some call Mammon, God of gold, Who, after, did the Tartar kingdom seize, As Jove a scepter in his hand doth hold, Neptune the trident, so he grasps the keys. Some think this god inhabited of old Hiberia, him the Pyren’ mountains please, Of whom and Proserpine his ravished bride, Desist, to speak what Juno did betide. |
Hiberia called Spain Strabo, lib. 3 Geographiae |
Thus eldest Jupiter lives in a cave
Near Oson, nursed with honey from the bees;
Th’ Athenian king did the young Neptune save
In Athens, where great clerks have tak’n degrees,
Athens, the well of knowledge, and the grave
Of ignorance, where Neptune safety sees;
Pluto, the youngest of the three, doth dwell
In lower Thessaly, since termèd Hell.
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The time these lived, was Patriarch Isaac born, In Lybia Affer reigned, Brigus in Spain, By Inachus the Argive crown is worn; Aralius doth the Assyrian state maintain; Now Sodom and Gomorrah to ashes turn, Peloponnesus doth Aegidius gain, Germania is upheld by Herminon, And Aethiopia swayed by Phaeton. |
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Saturn, that of his three sons nothing knew,
Doted on lovely Juno, and oft sent
Unto her place of nurture, where she grew
Fair and well featured; there her youth she spent,
Whose sojourn in Parthemia Saturn drew
To visit her, on earth his sole content;
Many rare presents and rich gifts he brought her,
Where leave him in Parthemia with his daughter.
[Heywood's endnotes to Canto I]
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Our poem, though familiarly known to them of judgement and reading, yet because it may not seem intricate to the less capable, I thought it not altogether impertinent to insert some few observations to the end of every canto. |
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Touching this Uranus, from whom our history takes life, some writers—and those not of the least authority—think in him to be figured Chanaan, son of Cham, son of Noah, whom Noah cursed, but spared his son Cham, because God had once blessed him. |
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This Canaan for sundry benefits by him bestowed upon many nations, was called by some Ogyges, by others Phoenix, as also Caelum, Sol, Proteus, Janus Geminus, Junonius, Quirinus, Patulcius, Bacchus, Vertumnus, Chaos, Hyleton, or the seed of the gods. Also his wife Vesta, for her bounty, they called Tellus, Opis, Aretia, and Sibylla, the mother of the gods. |
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And these lived in the third generation after the Flood. From this Vesta, came the virgin Vestals in Rome. This Cham, father to Canaan, was called Egyptian Saturn, and Nemroth, Babylonian Saturn. Cham was also called Saturn in Italy, who came thither to dwell, in the time that Comerus the Scythian usurped there, a neighbour to old Janus that dwelt in Laurentum. And this was in the year of the world 1898, the year before Christ 2065; but rather than enter too deep into antiquity, the sequel of our history we derive from Saturn of Crete. |
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There were two Jupiters, the first Jupiter Belus, from whom Ninus descended and first idolatrized to him; the second Jupiter of Crete, who was after instyled Olympian Jupiter, and supreme king of the Gods. |
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Titan, Saturn’s brother, is often by the poets taken for the sun. He is likewise called Hyperion, and ruler of the planets. But Boccaccio writes Hyperion to be Titan’s son, and not a name solely attributed to the sun. |
Boccaccio |
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Where Saturn makes his expedition to the oracle: I read of two oracles, one spake in Delphos from the mouth of Apollo, the other in Egypt from Jupiter Belus, who is likewise called the son of Saturn, and the second emperor of Babylon after Nemroth. |
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Oson: a city and mountain in Epire, where Jupiter was nursed. This Epire is a country in Greece, having on the north Macedonia, the east Achaia, the west the Sea Ionium. It cannot be the mountain Ossa, because Ossa is in Thessaly. |
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Saturnus was the first father of the gods, who begot Jupiter, Juno, Neptune, Pluto, and Glauca, by his wife Ops, otherwise called Sibylla. |
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Demogorgon signifieth earth, and Aethra air, supposed Uranus’ father and mother. |
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Panchaia, a sandy country of Arabia, where is plenty of frankincense. In a high hill of this country, Thoas and Aeaclis first found out gold ore. |
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Erichthon otherwise Erichtheus: he was nursed by Minerva, after instated king of Athens, he first invented the Chariot, and is supposed to be the first that tried metals, part of which skill, some take from him, and attribute unto Aeacus. |
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Idaei Dactyli otherwise called Corybantes, were certain priests of Cybele, these are said to find out the use of iron. |
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Salmentes and Damnameneus, two Jews St. Clement speaks of, who first found out the use of iron in Cyprus. |
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Lydus, the son of Atys, and brother to Tyrrhenus, of him Lydia took the name. He first melted brass, and made it pliable to the hammer—a cunning which Theophrastus would bestow upon one Delas the Phrygian, but Aristotle yields it to Lydus. |
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Cassiterides are ten islands in the Spanish sea, in these Midacritus (by the opinion of Strabo) first found out the use of lead. |
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Cinyras, a rich king of Cyprus, who unawares lay with his daughter Myrrha, and on her begot Adonis. He first devised the stithy, tongues, file and lever. |
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Pyrodes was son to Cilix, of whom Cilicia took name, and Cilix was son to Phoenicia. He was the first strooke fire from the flint. |
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Prometheus, son to Japetus, who for stealing fire from heaven to inspire life in his image was by Jupiter tied unto the mount Caucasus, where an eagle still gnaweth his entrails. |
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Anacharsis, a great philosopher, born in Scythia. He first devised the bellows, and as some suppose, the potter’s wheel. |
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Apis, king of Argives. He taught first the planting of vines, and after his death was worshipped in the shape of an ox. |
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Jubalda governed Spain. |
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Cranaus, Italy. |
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Satron, the Gaules. |
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Semiramis, Assyria. At the same time, Saturn married his sister Sibyl. This was in the year of the world 2000, and the year before Christ 1963. Seven years after this, which was 250 years after the Deluge, Noah paid his due to Nature. |
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Almache and Mellisee are supposed to be Adrastea and Ida. |
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Thus it is our purpose to bear along with us the best known kingdoms of the world, that the truth of an history being countenanced with their credit may purchase the better belief. |
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The end of the first Canto.
Back to Canto I (1-50)
Notes to Canto I
On to Canto II (1-50)
How to cite
Frédéric Delord, ed., 2015. Troia Britanica Canto I, 51-103 (1609). In A Dictionary of Shakespeare's Classical Mythology: A Textual Companion, ed. Yves Peyré (2009-).
http://www.shakmyth.org/page/Early+Modern+Mythological+Texts%3A+Troia+Britanica+I
+%2851-103%29