Jove calls his under-strappers round him, And in a dev'lish rage they found him. Says he, I bade ye hither come, To charge ye all to stay at home; Go play at put, or loo, or brag, But don't a single finger wag To help yond' rascals that are fratching, And, monkey-like, each other scratching. Whoe'er offends, observe me well, I'll broil the scoundrel's ears in hell. Yet did that scratching, kicking brim, The jade Minerva, wheedle him, In spite of this hot blust'ring fit, To let her help the Greeks a bit With good advice, lest they should fall To running off for good and all. No sooner had the mortal varlets Begun to squabble 'bout their harlots, Bumping each others' guts and sides, When Jove away to Ida rides: There borrowing C—-x the grocer's scales, He weighs:—the Trojan luck prevails: On which, with thunder, hail, and rain, He smok'd the Grecians off the plain. Old Nestor only chose to stay, Because he could not run away; But Diomede soon brought him help, And sav'd this queer old chatt'ring whelp. Then Juno, ever restless, seeks To make old Neptune help her Greeks: Neptune, who knew the wheedling witch, Answers her bluntly, No, you bitch! Teucer comes next, his art to show; He shot a special good long bow: But Hector stops the knave's career, And sent him with a flea in's ear. Pallas and Juno steal away To help the Grecians in the fray: But quickly Iris made 'em pack To heaven in a hurry back. Now whilst they sweat, the goddess Night Jump'd up to part the bloody fight, Although, ere she could part 'em all, The Greeks were drove behind their wall. The Trojans burn good fires all night, For fear the Grecians in their fright Should think it proper, ere 'twas day, To launch their boats and run away.

Illustration from A Burlesque Translation of Homer

And whilst he to the supple gang, Like Harry, made a short harangue. They ey'd him all with fearful look, And their teeth chatter'd as he spoke.