Cœon’s huge sinewy arms and brawny thighs

Are naked, being tawnied with the sun;

Buskins he wears that ’bove his ankles rise,

Puffed with such curled silk as Arachne spun;

A coat of arms well mailed that fits his size

Laceth his body in. These arms he won

   Of a huge monster in the isle of Thrace,

   Whose weapon was a weighty iron mace.

His knotted beard was as the porphyr black,

So were the fleecy locks upon his crown,

Which to the middle of his armèd back,

From his rough shaggy head descended down.

His fiery eyeballs threaten Saturn’s wrack,

Stern vengeance roused herself in Cœon’s frown.

   His shield, a broad iron door; his lance, a beam;

   Oft with his large stride he has arched a stream.

Typhon, in skins of lions grimly clad,

Next his two brothers in the march proceeds.

The hides of these imperious beasts he had

From th’ Erymanthian forest, where his deeds

Live still in memory; like one half mad,

The giant shows in these disguisèd weeds.

   The lion’s jaws gnawing his helmet stood,

And yet his own fierce visage, low’ring under,

Appears as full of terror as that other;

Two such aspects makes the Saturnians wonder.

Next him appears Enceladus, his brother,

Whose eye darts lightning and his voice speaks thunder.

This was the only darling of his mother—

   His weapon was a tall and snaggy oak,

Hyperion in an armour all of suns

Shines like the face of Phoebus o’er the rest.

This giant to his valiant brothers runs,

Crying: “To arms! Base lingering I detest,

Damned be that coward soul that damage shuns,

Or from apparent peril shrinks his breast.

   Behold where Saturn, ‘mongst his people crowned,

Saturn appears as great Hyperion spake,

Borne in an ivory chair with bright stones studded,

‘Mongst which, in trails, ran many an antick flake,

With rich enamel, azured, green and rudded.

At the first push their enemies’ ranks they brake;

He fought till his bright chariot was all blooded;

   About him round, their bows his archers drew,

The big-boned giants, wounded from afar,

And seeing none but their own soldiers by them,

Amazèd stand at this new kind of war,

To receive wounds by such as came not nigh them.

From every wing, they hear their looses jar;

They knew not where to turn or how to fly them.

   The showers of arrows rained so fast and thick

So long as their strong bows of trusty ewe

And silken strings held fast, so long fresh rivers

Of crimson blood the champion did imbrue,

For every shaft the archer’s bow delivers

Or kills or wounds one of their countless crew.

But when they once had emptied all their quivers,

   And that the enemy saw their arrows wasted,

Thou, famous English Henry, of that name

The fifth, I cannot but remember thee,

That won unto thy kingdom endless fame

By thy bold English archers’ chivalry

In Agincourt, when to the Frenchmen’s shame,

King, Dolphin, and the chief nobility

   Were with the odds of thousands, forced to yield

Henry V

Agincourt

But such success king Saturn had not then.

He is in number and in strength too weak;

His people are but one to Titan’s ten,

Nor are his guards so strong their spleen to wreak.

The giant kings, with infinites of men,

Into their foes’ battalions rudely break.

   Their poleaxes and clubs they heave on high,

The Titans brandish their victorious glaives

And enter the great city, havock crying.

In Cretan blood they drown their chariot naves

And slaughter all the poor Saturnians flying;

One hand sharp steel, the other firebrands waves.

In every place, the groans of people dying,

   Mixed with the conquerors’ shouts, to heaven aspire,

The city’s seized, Saturn and Cybel bound,

Whilst Titan lords it in the Cretan throne.

His revelling sons for pillage ransack round,

And where they hear babes shriek or old men groan,

They shout for joy; meantime king Saturn’s wound

Cybel’ winds up; and being all alone

   In prison with her lord, to him relates

She tells him that young Jove, in Epire famed

For martial triumphs, is their natural son;

He that Lycaon quelled, Pelasgia tamed,

And many spoils for Melliseus won.

No sooner did the king hear young Jove named

But he repents the wrongs against him done,

   And proud of such an issue so far praised,

He therefore by the careful damsel sends

— The self-same damsel that to Oson bore him —

As from a sorrowful father, kind commends.

The damsel, having found him, kneels before him

And the whole project she begins and ends

Of Saturn’s fall, and prays him to restore him.

   Jove, that till now a father never knew,

And having in his heart her words debated

And everything conferred, his birth unknown,

Which, from his infancy, the maid related,

Even to the time that he to years was grown,

Knowing the day and hour exactly dated,

His mother’s pity and his father’s frown,

   To which her words she doth as witness bring

The youthful prince is to the full persuaded,

It glads him to be son to one so great,

He swears his uncle shall be soon disgraded,

And tumbled headlong from his father’s seat;

And all that have the Cretan clime invaded

Shall be repulsed with scandal. In this heat,

   The Epire king he doth of aid implore,

   And Arcas, whom he late had crowned before.

Were he a stranger, yet he holds it sin

Not to pursue his rescue, being oppressed;

But being his father and his next of kin,

That by a tyrant’s hand is dispossessed,

His mother too, that had his ransom been

And kept the bloody weapon from his breast.

   All these incite his valour and the rather

Posts are to Arcas in Arcadia sent,

His father with two thousand men to meet,

Who musters up his troops incontinent,

Proud that his valour shall be known in Crete;

The bold Parthemians likewise to Jove sent,

Of their own voluntary minds, a fleet

   Of ships well stored with men, who both admire

   His valour and his amity desire.

The men of Oson round about him flock,

Glad by so brave a captain to be guided,

Known to be issued from a regal stock.

Meantime, king Melliseus hath provided

His stout Epirians, who have vowed to block

The Cretan streets with trunks of men divided,

   So, with the remnant of their forces’ troop,

Their army they transport, and on the beach

Of the rich Cretan shore securely land it.

No man appears their entrance to impeach,

The self-opinioned foe so slightly manned it.

They think their fortunes out of danger’s reach,

And that their power’s so great none can withstand it.

   The covetous princes more intend the spoil

   Of one rich town than loss of all the soil.

But when the watch, from the high city walls,

Sees all the neighbour plains with armour spread,

Aloud to Titan and his sons he calls

To arm with speed. The giants straight make head.

Tidings of bloody broils them nought appals.

With courage they their business managed,

   And having each addressed his sword and shield,

Into three battles Jupiter divides

The royal army he conducts; the main

King Melliseus by appointment guides;

Th’Osonians and Epirians fill his train,

Some from Alacre he received besides,

A city subject unto Epire’s reign.

   Jove the Parthemians in the vaw doth bear,

Six battles Titan makes. The great’st he leads,

And in the other five, his sons employs.

It cheers him when he sees his army spreads

So many furlongs, led by his bold boys.

He swears the ground whereon his enemy treads

Shall drown the host that he this day destroys

   In their own gore; and after, in small while,

   Yield to their mangled trunks a funeral pile.

But this young Arcas ’twixt the camps appears,

A trumpet all the way before him sounding;

For Titan, through the army, he inquires.

The tyrant, with all pride and spleen abounding,

Admits him, in the presence of his peers,

Legions of armèd men his person rounding.

   His sudden coming much amazement breeds,

Jupiter’s embassy to Titan

“Thus saith prince Jupiter, king Saturn’s son —”

“Stay there”, quoth Titan, “for thou hast confessed

That what I do is all by justice done

And my good right my self I here invest:

The Cretan crown I have by conquest won,

In which I have a filial interest.

   The name of ‘Saturn’s son’ Saturn excludes,

When Arcas thus replies: “Great Saturn’s seed

And issue male survives to see thee slain.

The blood thou sought to shed shall make thee bleed,

And all the giant princes of thy train.

So hath the Epire king with Jove decreed.

Therefore, before your bloods this verdure stain,

   Leave these usurped confines and release

   My grandsire king, that hostile arms may cease.

Else, thus thy nephew Jove by me hath sworn,

By me, his son, Arcas, th’Arcadian king,

To pluck that crown from off thy brows, in scorn,

And thee from that tribunal headlong fling;

And such as thy usurpèd state suborn,

He shall to ruin and destruction bring.”

   Titan, whose rage darts fire out of his eyes,

“Princox, thou think’st by thy despiteful brave

To daunt us, but thou giv’st us greater spirit.

Thou com’st from Saturn’s son; thou dost deprave,

In that one word, his title, not my merit.

Thou tell’st us we our natural kingdom have,

Which as our father’s eldest we inherit,

   For just so old as Jove is, just so long,

   Saturn usurped upon my right, by wrong.

Go tell thy father that his life is mine

And I, that life, am now come to bereave;

So is thy life too, which thou must resign.

When he got thee, he should have asked me leave.

His death was at his birth due, so was thine,

Which then deferred, you now come to receive.

   Reply not. The proud braves thou hast commenced

   Hath us and all our issue much incensed.

Arcas departs. Titan his soldiers cheers,

And tells them the directness of his cause,

That ‘tis Uranus’ sceptre which he bears,

And he, his eldest by all Nature’s laws,

The true successor to the crown he wears.

They sign his Ave with a shrill applause,

   And by these motive arguments persuaded,

   Threaten their lives, that have his clime invaded.

So Jove and Melliseus, having heard

His peremptory answer, both prepare

For imminent vengeance, not to be deferred.

Loud shouts and cries from both sides pierce the air;

In every battle dauntless rage appeared,

The champions in their hot blood proudly fare;

   A confused noise drums, in their half-deaf ears,

   Of trumpets, drums, shouts, swords, shields, splintered

[spears.

The battle

Out of this battle’s chaos and confusion

Of undistinguished valour, prince Jove springs

And where he Titan spies, makes rough intrusion

Maugre the strength of all the giant kings.

This prologue was to some the full conclusion

Of that day’s tragedy; their darts and slings

   From every part, with envious hands they cast,

Proceeding still, his sword prepares the way

Even to the chariot where his uncle sat

And spite of those that would his violence stay,

He strikes him on the helm and lays him flat.

There had he slain him dead, but to the fray

Encelad’ comes, and much enraged thereat,

   Assails the prince whilst he the fight intends.

The noise of his surprisal, in small space,

Was spread through every wing of this large field.

Such as beheld him fall ran thence apace

And to his sons reported he was killed.

In haste they draw their forces to this place

And Jove is round encompassed—Heaven him shield!—

   Saturn from his high turret looked and wondered

And calling Cybel’ to the battlement,

From whence they might the doubtful skirmish view,

They may perceive how Jove, incontinent,

Twenty tall soldiers of king Titan’s slew.

Amazed they stand at his great hardiment.

One asked another if this knight they knew,

   When, noting well the bold deeds he had done,

Whilst in this hopeful doubt they stand confounded,

Behold, young Arcas having understood

His father Jove with thousand foes was rounded

And ’mongst the giants fought, all guled in blood,

He caused a loud charge to be shrilly sounded

And thither makes, where Jove environed stood.

   Now grew the battle hot, bold Arcas pierces

   Through the mid-host and strews his way with hearses.

And at first shock, breaks through th’iron ring

Of armèd men that had his father penned,

Whose sword, by this, embowelled the proud king

Enceladus and to his days gave end.

But when he saw his son fresh succours bring,

And to large proof his dreadless spirit extend,

   With such essential joy the prince doth cheer him,

Save Titan, who ’mongst many corpses lying,

O’er which his armèd chariot swiftly ran,

Amongst the rest Enceladus espying,

The blood forsook his cheek, his face looked wan,

He stamps, he stares, he strikes, still vengeance crying,

And in disordered fury spares no man;

   Plummets of lead, he from his chariot threw

Jove, wondering whence so great a cry should grow,

Or who so many of his men had slain,

Spies Titan coming on. Him Jove doth know,

And with all speed makes towards him again.

Now is the war at height, for many a blow

Deals wounds and death, thick showers of arrows rain,

   Quarters of men, and heads, with helmets battered,

   Half hid in blood, through all the fields are scattered. 

Titan encounters Jove. Jove him defies

And from his steely bergeon beats out fire.

By Titan’s side doth proud Hyperion rise,

Against him Arcas doth the field desire

And now each other bravely doth despise.

They combat son to son and sire to sire,

   But Jove and Arcas, best in power and skill,

 Titan and Hyperion slain 

Just as they fall, comes Typhon, having late

King Melliseus and his battle chased.

His enemies’ swords had hewed off many a plate

From that iron coat in which his sides were laced,

Who, letting out the nails that bound him straight,

Walks in a cloud of his own smoke, unbraced,

   And as upon his father’s trunk he gazed,

But when he, further looking, gan espy

The proud Hyperion weltering in his gore,

And huge Enceladus besides him lie,

He quite forgets their obits to deplore.

The earth he curses and blasphemes the sky

And from his knotty head the black locks tore.

   With that, enraged, his axe aloft he heaved

   And Jove’s broad shield just in the middle cleaved.

   The combat ’twixt Jupiter and Typhon

Both armies give them field room, two such spirits

Beget, in their encounter, preparation:

If Jove survives, king Saturn Crete inherits.

If Typhon live, great Typhon rules that nation.

Both parties stand spectators of their merits

To view this combat with high admiration.

   Forgetting fight, their weapons down they bend

Huge Typhon is unwieldy, Jove more quick

And better breathed, doth ofttimes traverse round,

To speed him with a blow or with a prick,

Till he hath worn a bloody circle round

About his bulky foe. Typhon strikes thick

But his vain blows dig trenches in the ground.

   Had they fallen right, they to the waist had cleft him,

Two tedious hours lasts this renownèd fray,

Yet neither victor. With this fight compared,

All the day’s bloody broil appeared but play.

Both ward, both strike, both scorn to be outdared.

Jove, with one blow, quite through his target makes way;

It cuts the steel bars, the gilt stud is pared.

   Typhon, to be avenged of this disgrace,

It crossed his visor and so, down it glanced,

And only razed his gorget. When Jove stands

A tiptoe with his arms on high advanced,

Holding his conquering sword in both his hands,

He falls it on his beaver; as it chanced,

The massy stroke unrivets all the bands

   That locked his helm. His wounded face appears.

And now both strike at once, steel against steel

And armour against armour. Their loud strokes

Make the woods tremble and the earth to reel.

Such blows cleave rocks and fell the mountain oaks.

At length, they close and grapple. Typhon’s heel

Twines about Jove’s mid leg, his arms he yokes

   About his gorget. Active Jove lets slip

   And by fine flight catched Typhon on the hip.

The giant scapes the fall and both let go,

Their weapons lost, they buffet fist to fist

And at advantage lie, now high, now low.

To close again, Jove catched by Typhon’s wrist,

Typhon by his. Both tug, both cunning show.

Typhon makes play, Jove catched him by the twist,

   Heaves him aloft, and in his arms he brings him

   To a high rock, and in the sea he flings him. 

Typhon thus dead, their bands disordered fly.

Jove, Arcas, and the Epire king pursue them.

Aegeon scapes, hereafter kept to die

By him that with his brothers fought and slew them.
Bri’reus, Japet, Atlas, Hespery,

Prometheus too, disguised that no man knew them,

   Fled with the rest. Jove, tired in the chase,

   Returns to Crete, his parents to embrace.

Oh, in what joy was Cybel’ ’bove the rest,

And grandam Vesta freely to behold him.

They weep their tears of joy upon his breast

And thousand sighs; in their strict arms enfold him.

Saturn for Juno sends with Jove to feast

And his two sons, of whom his wife hath told him,

   With Arcas and the Epire king to meet

   At general triumphs to be made in Crete.