Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABBCCDDDDDDDEDFGDDDD HHIJKKCCHHDDDDLLMNOH IPPQQRRDDRRDDGGGGDDD SDDDRARDDTTUUVVWXYZP ZGGDA2DDDDDGGDDB2B2D DCCDDRRDDGC2DDGGD2D2 DDGGA2A2E2F2PPDDPPDD G| THE chiefs were set the soldiers crown'd the | A |
| field | B |
| To these the master of the seven fold shield | B |
| Upstarted fierce and kindled with disdain | C |
| Eager to speak unable to contain | C |
| His boiling rage he rowl'd his eyes around | D |
| The shore and Graecian gallies hall'd a ground | D |
| The Then stretching out his hands O Jove he cry'd | D |
| Speeches of Must then our cause before the fleet be try'd | D |
| Ajax and And dares Ulysses for the prize contend | D |
| Ulysses In sight of what he durst not once defend | D |
| But basely fled that memorable day | D |
| When I from Hector's hands redeem'd the flaming | E |
| prey | D |
| So much 'tis safer at the noisie bar | F |
| With words to flourish than ingage in war | G |
| By diff'rent methods we maintain our right | D |
| Nor am I made to talk nor he to fight | D |
| In bloody fields I labour to be great | D |
| His arms are a smooth tongue and soft deceit | D |
| Nor need I speak my deeds for those you see | H |
| The sun and day are witnesses for me | H |
| Let him who fights unseen relate his own | I |
| And vouch the silent stars and conscious moon | J |
| Great is the prize demanded I confess | K |
| But such an abject rival makes it less | K |
| That gift those honours he but hop'd to gain | C |
| Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain | C |
| Losing he wins because his name will be | H |
| Ennobled by defeat who durst contend with me | H |
| Were my known valour question'd yet my blood | D |
| Without that plea wou'd make my title good | D |
| My sire was Telamon whose arms employ'd | D |
| With Hercules these Trojan walls destroy'd | D |
| And who before with Jason sent from Greece | L |
| In the first ship brought home the golden fleece | L |
| Great Telamon from Aeacus derives | M |
| His birth th' inquisitor of guilty lives | N |
| In shades below where Sisyphus whose son | O |
| This thief is thought rouls up the restless heavy | H |
| stone | I |
| Just Aeacus the king of Gods above | P |
| Begot thus Ajax is the third from Jove | P |
| Nor shou'd I seek advantage from my line | Q |
| Unless Achilles it was mix'd with thine | Q |
| As next of kin Achilles' arms I claim | R |
| This fellow wou'd ingraft a foreign name | R |
| Upon our stock and the Sisyphian seed | D |
| By fraud and theft asserts his father's breed | D |
| Then must I lose these arms because I came | R |
| To fight uncall'd a voluntary name | R |
| Nor shunn'd the cause but offer'd you my aid | D |
| While he long lurking was to war betray'd | D |
| Forc'd to the field he came but in the reer | G |
| And feign'd distraction to conceal his fear | G |
| 'Till one more cunning caught him in the snare | G |
| Ill for himself and dragg'd him into war | G |
| Now let a hero's arms a coward vest | D |
| And he who shunn'd all honours gain the best | D |
| And let me stand excluded from my right | D |
| Robb'd of my kinsman's arms who first appear'd in | S |
| fight | D |
| Better for us at home had he remain'd | D |
| Had it been true the madness which he feign'd | D |
| Or so believ'd the less had been our shame | R |
| The less his counsell'd crime which brands the | A |
| Grecian name | R |
| Nor Philoctetes had been left inclos'd | D |
| In a bare isle to wants and pains expos'd | D |
| Where to the rocks with solitary groans | T |
| His suff'rings and our baseness he bemoans | T |
| And wishes so may Heav'n his wish fulfill | U |
| The due reward to him who caus'd his ill | U |
| Now he with us to Troy's destruction sworn | V |
| Our brother of the war by whom are born | V |
| Alcides' arrows pent in narrow bounds | W |
| With cold and hunger pinch'd and pain'd with | X |
| wounds | Y |
| To find him food and cloathing must employ | Z |
| Against the birds the shafts due to the fate of | P |
| Troy | Z |
| Yet still he lives and lives from treason free | G |
| Because he left Ulysses' company | G |
| Poor Palamede might wish so void of aid | D |
| Rather to have been left than so to death | A2 |
| betray'd | D |
| The coward bore the man immortal spight | D |
| Who sham'd him out of madness into fight | D |
| Nor daring otherwise to vent his hate | D |
| Accus'd him first of treason to the state | D |
| And then for proof produc'd the golden store | G |
| Himself had hidden in his tent before | G |
| Thus of two champions he depriv'd our host | D |
| By exile one and one by treason lost | D |
| Thus fights Ulysses thus his fame extends | B2 |
| A formidable man but to his friends | B2 |
| Great for what greatness is in words and sound | D |
| Ev'n faithful Nestor less in both is found | D |
| But that he might without a rival reign | C |
| He left this faithful Nestor on the plain | C |
| Forsook his friend ev'n at his utmost need | D |
| Who tir'd and tardy with his wounded steed | D |
| Cry'd out for aid and call'd him by his name | R |
| But cowardice has neither ears nor shame | R |
| Thus fled the good old man bereft of aid | D |
| And for as much as lay in him betray'd | D |
| That this is not a fable forg'd by me | G |
| Like one of his an Ulyssean lie | C2 |
| I vouch ev'n Diomede who tho' his friend | D |
| Cannot that act excuse much less defend | D |
| He call'd him back aloud and tax'd his fear | G |
| And sure enough he heard but durst not hear | G |
| The Gods with equal eyes on mortal look | D2 |
| He justly was forsaken who forsook | D2 |
| Wanted that succour he refus'd to lend | D |
| Found ev'ry fellow such another friend | D |
| No wonder if he roar'd that all might hear | G |
| His elocution was increas'd by fear | G |
| I heard I ran I found him out of breath | A2 |
| Pale trembling and half dead with fear of death | A2 |
| Though he had judg'd himself by his own laws | E2 |
| And stood condemn'd I help'd the common cause | F2 |
| With my broad buckler hid him from the foe | P |
| Ev'n the shield trembled as he lay below | P |
| And from impending Fate the coward freed | D |
| Good Heav'n forgive me for so bad a deed | D |
| If still he will persist and urge the strife | P |
| First let him give me back his forfeit life | P |
| Let him return to that opprobrious field | D |
| Again creep under my protecting shield | D |
| Let him lie wounded let the foe be near | G |
Ovid
(1)
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About Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth
Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth is a poem by Ovid. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
