Lanii Triumphantes, OR THE BUTCHERS PRIZE BEING A description of the famous Battel, between Achilles a Butcher of Greece, and Hector a VVeaver of Troy, occasion'd by the Rape of a daughty Damosill y-clep'd Hellen the bright.
—cARpere vel noli nostra, vetede tua.
Mart.
Licensed. February 2. 1664/5.
LONDON, Printed by J. B. for William Crook, at the Throe Bibles on Fleet-bridge. 1665.
Hector & Achilles.
THere once was sown
Contention,
The like was known
By no man.
'Tween
Greekish rout,
And
Trojans stout,
And all about
A Woman.
For there's a day,
When
Trojans play,
Work laid away,
Which rare is;
This brought great joy,
To th' Town of
Troy,
But most to th' Boy,
call'd
Paris.
He had design,
With fellows nine,
Two pence to joyn
A piece—a.
No hast is made,
For time they had
Enough, as said
Before is.
Now here they are,
l' th' nick as 'twere,
While
Greeks prepare
For Morris.
And if one should,
Such sport behold
For ever, 'twould
Not weary one.
So blith a Lass,
Did never pass
Through
Greece, as was
Maid Marrion.
As frog leap'd quick,
Over a Dike,
When she had like
T' have fell in.
As Bag-pipes sound,
On dusty ground,
So tramples round
Smug
Hellen.
This did so fire,
The doughty Squire,
H'ad no desire
To leese her.
Rounding in ear,
He speaks her fair,
Yet would this gear
Not please her.
Quoth he I'll prove
If you can move
Or else by-Jove
I'll maul ye.
With her they fly,
'Tis vain to cry,
For presently
They're gone all.
For joy they roar'd,
Now she's aboard,
And this the word,
Our own all.
There's not a
Greek.
Had power to speak,
Th' are vex'd to break
Of a Game.
But they're afraid
It will be said,
That they are made
A May-game.
With Club and Stick,
With Sword and Pike,
The
Greeks run thick
To sea-side.
To Vessells they
Themselves convay,
Which vacant lay,
There beside.
They hoise up Sail,
Their Oars they trail,
Revenged they'll—
—Be, sans doubt.
Their Clubs they fit,
In fist they spit,
The next they'll hit
That they see;
While
Trojans wink,
For you must think,
When they're in drink,
They're lazy.
Heart was at heell,
'Till
Trojans feell,
That
Greeks do deal
So badly;
Their Clubs they crack,
They hold them tack,
They bruise and thwack
As madly.
Bumps rise in head,
Both parties bleed,
'Kerchers they need,
To dry 'em.
This ruefull sight,
Did not delight
The
Trojan, hight
Old
Priam.
He had more care,
Then all men there.
(It is, I swear,
No fable.)
In
Trojan Land,
H'ad great command,
Church-warden, and
Constable.
Pray make an end
Thus to contend,
Both foe, and friend,
Here present.
For 'twill be sung,
By future tongue,
Our lives were bung
'Oth' tenter.
And if't be so,
Nought else will do,
There's only two
Shall venture.
Small bloud be spilt;
For they shall tilt,
At Basket, Hilt,
And Cudgel.
Who best doth play,
Their's
be the day;
Spectators pray—
—
Ye judge well.
They like this thing,
They make a Ring.
First
Trojans bring
Out their man.
A precious Wight,
Of mickle might,
And t' all mens sight,
A rare man.
On's Lip did grow,
Mustachio,
No man did know
Such ever.
He arm'd doth come,
With staff of Broom,
Yo'ld swear him some—
—Protector.
O're spot of ground,
Thrice stalk'd he round,
And three times frown'd,
Brave Hector.
He struts not long,
When from among,
The
Greekish throng,
All staring.
There did appear,
Great
Hectors Peer,
A Warrier—
—As daring;
Who earst hath stood,
Knee-deep in bloud,
'Mong all the Brood
None such are.
H'ath oft rub'd out,
A dreadful bout,
Ne're was so stout
A Butcher.
But not to fast,
'Fors Battle past
His title last,
To tell is;
He is well known
All o're the Town,
By name of boon
Achilles.
With open mouth,
Th' encounter both
As Tyger doth
With Lyon.
Alike they fight,
'Till for meer spight,
A Blow did light
On
Hector.
Feeling the weight,
'Tis desperate,
Trojan did streight
Conjecture.
He would not cry,
(Though tear's in eye)
He might thereby
Loose credit.
But, truth be said,
A Curse is laid
Upon his head
That did it.
Quoth
Hector, stay,
I
will not play,
Because you lay
On so hard.
Saith Greek,
resign,
A Rope be thine,
For Hellen's
mine
Poor Coward.
Trojan would choak,
E're he'd have spoke,
Lest th' other stroak
Should happen;
Thus have you heard
How
Trojans jear'd,
While all men fear'd
Th' o'recomer.
If you would veiw,
What did ensue,
I'll send you to
Old
Homer.
FINIS.