And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan's stithy.
"No one talks peace unless he's ready to back it up with war." "He talks of peace if it is the only way to live." -- Colonel Green and Surak of Vulcan, "The Savage Curtain", stardate 5906.5.
A Vulcan can no sooner be disloyal than he can exist without breathing. -- Kirk, "The Menagerie", stardate 3012.4
The face of war has never changed. Surely it is more logical to heal than to kill. -- Surak of Vulcan, "The Savage Curtain", stardate 5906.5
I am pleased to see that we have differences. May we together become greater than the sum of both of us. -- Surak of Vulcan, "The Savage Curtain", stardate 5906.4
Romulan women are not like Vulcan females. We are not dedicated to pure logic and the sterility of non-emotion. -- Romulan Commander, "The Enterprise Incident", stardate 5027.3
It [being a Vulcan] means to adopt a philosophy, a way of life which is logical and beneficial. We cannot disregard that philosophy merely for personal gain, no matter how important that gain might be. -- Spock, "Journey to Babel", stardate 3842.4
Although our loss be great, yet, oh my son! Leave we Patroclus lying on the bier To which the Gods ordain'd him from the first. Receive from Vulcan's hands these glorious arms, Such as no mortal shoulders ever bore.
"My sons," said Vulcan, "set your tasks aside; Your strength and master-skill must now be tried. Arms for a hero forge; arms that require Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire." He said. They set their former work aside, And their new toils with eager haste divide. A flood of molten silver, brass, and gold, And deadly steel, in the large furnace roll'd; Of this, their artful hands a shield prepare, Alone sufficient to sustain the war. Sev'n orbs within a spacious round they close: One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows. The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd; The grot with beaten anvils groans around. By turns their arms advance, in equal time; By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime. They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs; The fiery work proceeds, with rustic songs.
He said, and by his oath pacified, thus The white-arm'd Deity to Vulcan spake.
Now was the world forsaken by the sun, And Phoebe half her nightly race had run. The careful chief, who never clos'd his eyes, Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies. A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, Once his own galleys, hewn from Ida's wood; But now, as many nymphs, the sea they sweep, As rode, before, tall vessels on the deep. They know him from afar; and in a ring Inclose the ship that bore the Trojan king. Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest, Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast; Her right hand stops the stern; her left divides The curling ocean, and corrects the tides. She spoke for all the choir, and thus began With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man: "Sleeps our lov'd lord? O goddess-born, awake! Spread ev'ry sail, pursue your wat'ry track, And haste your course. Your navy once were we, From Ida's height descending to the sea; Till Turnus, as at anchor fix'd we stood, Presum'd to violate our holy wood. Then, loos'd from shore, we fled his fires profane (Unwillingly we broke our master's chain), And since have sought you thro' the Tuscan main. The mighty Mother chang'd our forms to these, And gave us life immortal in the seas. But young Ascanius, in his camp distress'd, By your insulting foes is hardly press'd. Th' Arcadian horsemen, and Etrurian host, Advance in order on the Latian coast: To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines. Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, First arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight: Thyself the fated sword of Vulcan wield, And bear aloft th' impenetrable shield. To-morrow's sun, unless my skill be vain, Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain." Parting, she spoke; and with immortal force Push'd on the vessel in her wat'ry course; For well she knew the way. Impell'd behind, The ship flew forward, and outstripp'd the wind. The rest make up. Unknowing of the cause, The chief admires their speed, and happy omens draws.
He said, and to his bellows quick repair'd, Which turning to the fire he bade them heave. Full twenty bellows working all at once Breathed on the furnace, blowing easy and free The managed winds, now forcible, as best Suited dispatch, now gentle, if the will Of Vulcan and his labor so required. Impenetrable brass, tin, silver, gold, He cast into the forge, then, settling firm His ponderous anvil on the block, one hand With his huge hammer fill'd, one with the tongs. He fashion'd first a shield massy and broad Of labor exquisite, for which he form'd A triple border beauteous, dazzling bright, And loop'd it with a silver brace behind. The shield itself with five strong folds he forged, And with devices multiform the disk Capacious charged, toiling with skill divine.
"I never thought of it, before; but you certainly are rather like Vulcan, sir."
Sacred to Vulcan's name, an isle there lay, Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipare, Rais'd high on smoking rocks; and, deep below, In hollow caves the fires of Aetna glow. The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal; Loud strokes, and hissings of tormented steel, Are heard around; the boiling waters roar, And smoky flames thro' fuming tunnels soar. Hether the Father of the Fire, by night, Thro' the brown air precipitates his flight. On their eternal anvils here he found The brethren beating, and the blows go round. A load of pointless thunder now there lies Before their hands, to ripen for the skies: These darts, for angry Jove, they daily cast; Consum'd on mortals with prodigious waste. Three rays of writhen rain, of fire three more, Of winged southern winds and cloudy store As many parts, the dreadful mixture frame; And fears are added, and avenging flame. Inferior ministers, for Mars, repair His broken axletrees and blunted war, And send him forth again with furbish'd arms, To wake the lazy war with trumpets' loud alarms. The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold The shield of Pallas, and renew their gold. Full on the crest the Gorgon's head they place, With eyes that roll in death, and with distorted face.
Whom Thetis answer'd, Goddess of the Deep. Thou hast well said, my son! it is no blame To save from threaten'd death our suffering friends. But thy magnificent and dazzling arms Are now in Trojan hands; them Hector wears Exulting, but ordain'd not long to exult, So habited; his death is also nigh. But thou with yonder warring multitudes Mix not till thou behold me here again; For with the rising sun I will return To-morrow, and will bring thee glorious arms, By Vulcan forged himself, the King of fire.
Plunge ye again into the briny Deep, And to the hoary Sovereign of the floods Report as ye have heard. I to the heights Olympian haste, that I may there obtain From Vulcan, glorious artist of the skies, Arms of excelling beauty for my son.
So Pallas spake, Goddess cærulean-eyed, And o'er the untillable and barren Deep Departing, Scheria left, land of delight, Whence reaching Marathon, and Athens next, She pass'd into Erectheus' fair abode. Ulysses, then, toward the palace moved Of King Alcinoüs, but immers'd in thought Stood, first, and paused, ere with his foot he press'd The brazen threshold; for a light he saw As of the sun or moon illuming clear The palace of Phæacia's mighty King. Walls plated bright with brass, on either side Stretch'd from the portal to th' interior house, With azure cornice crown'd; the doors were gold Which shut the palace fast; silver the posts Rear'd on a brazen threshold, and above, The lintels, silver, architraved with gold. Mastiffs, in gold and silver, lined the approach On either side, by art celestial framed Of Vulcan, guardians of Alcinoüs' gate For ever, unobnoxious to decay. Sheer from the threshold to the inner house Fixt thrones the walls, through all their length, adorn'd, With mantles overspread of subtlest warp Transparent, work of many a female hand. On these the princes of Phæacia sat, Holding perpetual feasts, while golden youths On all the sumptuous altars stood, their hands With burning torches charged, which, night by night, Shed radiance over all the festive throng. Full fifty female menials serv'd the King In household offices; the rapid mills These turning, pulverize the mellow'd grain, Those, seated orderly, the purple fleece Wind off, or ply the loom, restless as leaves Of lofty poplars fluttering in the breeze; Bright as with oil the new-wrought texture shone. Far as Phæacian mariners all else Surpass, the swift ship urging through the floods, So far in tissue-work the women pass All others, by Minerva's self endow'd With richest fancy and superior skill. Without the court, and to the gates adjoin'd A spacious garden lay, fenced all around Secure, four acres measuring complete. There grew luxuriant many a lofty tree, Pomegranate, pear, the apple blushing bright, The honied fig, and unctuous olive smooth. Those fruits, nor winter's cold nor summer's heat Fear ever, fail not, wither not, but hang Perennial, whose unceasing zephyr breathes Gently on all, enlarging these, and those Maturing genial; in an endless course Pears after pears to full dimensions swell, Figs follow figs, grapes clust'ring grow again Where clusters grew, and (ev'ry apple stript) The boughs soon tempt the gath'rer as before. There too, well-rooted, and of fruit profuse, His vineyard grows; part, wide-extended, basks, In the sun's beams; the arid level glows; In part they gather, and in part they tread The wine-press, while, before the eye, the grapes Here put their blossom forth, there, gather fast Their blackness. On the garden's verge extreme Flow'rs of all hues smile all the year, arranged With neatest art judicious, and amid The lovely scene two fountains welling forth, One visits, into ev'ry part diffus'd, The garden-ground, the other soft beneath The threshold steals into the palace-court, Whence ev'ry citizen his vase supplies.
Sleep, over all, both Gods and men, supreme! If ever thou hast heard, hear also now My suit; I will be grateful evermore. Seal for me fast the radiant eyes of Jove In the instant of his gratified desire. Thy recompense shall be a throne of gold, Bright, incorruptible; my limping son, Vulcan, shall fashion it himself with art Laborious, and, beneath, shall place a stool For thy fair feet, at the convivial board.
So he; and, by his admonition stay'd, The Greeks fled not. Then, all around thee stood The daughters of the Ancient of the Deep, Mourning disconsolate; with heav'nly robes They clothed thy corse, and all the Muses nine Deplored thee in full choir with sweetest tones Responsive, nor one Greecian hadst thou seen Dry-eyed, such grief the Muses moved in all. Full sev'nteen days we, day and night, deplored Thy death, both Gods in heav'n and men below, But, on the eighteenth day, we gave thy corse Its burning, and fat sheep around thee slew Num'rous, with many a pastur'd ox moon-horn'd. We burn'd thee clothed in vesture of the Gods, With honey and with oil feeding the flames Abundant, while Achaia's Heroes arm'd, Both horse and foot, encompassing thy pile, Clash'd on their shields, and deaf'ning was the din. But when the fires of Vulcan had at length Consumed thee, at the dawn we stored thy bones In unguent and in undiluted wine; For Thetis gave to us a golden vase Twin-ear'd, which she profess'd to have received From Bacchus, work divine of Vulcan's hand. Within that vase, Achilles, treasured lie Thine and the bones of thy departed friend Patroclus, but a sep'rate urn we gave To those of brave Antilochus, who most Of all thy friends at Ilium shared thy love And thy respect, thy friend Patroclus slain. Around both urns we piled a noble tomb, (We warriors of the sacred Argive host) On a tall promontory shooting far Into the spacious Hellespont, that all Who live, and who shall yet be born, may view Thy record, even from the distant waves. Then, by permission from the Gods obtain'd, To the Achaian Chiefs in circus met Thetis appointed games. I have beheld The burial rites of many an Hero bold, When, on the death of some great Chief, the youths Girding their loins anticipate the prize, But sight of those with wonder fill'd me most, So glorious past all others were the games By silver-footed Thetis giv'n for thee, For thou wast ever favour'd of the Gods. Thus, hast thou not, Achilles! although dead, Foregone thy glory, but thy fair report Is universal among all mankind; But, as for me, what recompense had I, My warfare closed? for whom, at my return, Jove framed such dire destruction by the hands Of fell Ægisthus and my murth'ress wife.
May Jove the Thunderer, dread Juno's mate, Grant thee, Telemachus! such voyage home As thy own heart desires! accept from all My stores selected as the richest far And noblest gift for finish'd beauty--This. I give thee wrought elaborate a cup, Itself all silver, bound with lip of gold. It is the work of Vulcan, which to me The Hero Phædimus imparted, King Of the Sidonians, when, on my return, Beneath his roof I lodg'd. I make it thine.
Him answer'd then the Shaker of the shores. I tell thee, Vulcan, that if Mars by flight Shun payment, I will pay, myself, the fine.
The armor finish'd, bearing in his hand The whole, he set it down at Thetis' feet. She, like a falcon from the snowy top Stoop'd of Olympus, bearing to the earth The dazzling wonder, fresh from Vulcan's hand.
Bad works speed ill. The slow o'ertakes the swift. So Vulcan, tardy as he is, by craft Hath outstript Mars, although the fleetest far Of all who dwell in heav'n, and the light-heel'd Must pay the adult'rer's forfeit to the lame.
Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came: Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame, And grief, with anger mix'd, their minds inflame. Then, with a casual blow was Rhoeteus slain, Who chanc'd, as Pallas threw, to cross the plain: The flying spear was after Ilus sent; But Rhoeteus happen'd on a death unmeant: From Teuthras and from Tyres while he fled, The lance, athwart his body, laid him dead: Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, And intercepted fate, he spurn'd the ground. As when, in summer, welcome winds arise, The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, And catching flames infect the neighb'ring heads; Around the forest flies the furious blast, And all the leafy nation sinks at last, And Vulcan rides in triumph o'er the waste; The pastor, pleas'd with his dire victory, Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky: So Pallas' troops their scatter'd strength unite, And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight.
The Grecians, thus, before their lofty ships Stood arm'd around Achilles, glorious Chief Insatiable with war, and opposite The Trojans on the rising-ground appear'd. Meantime, Jove order'd Themis, from the head Of the deep-fork'd Olympian to convene The Gods in council. She to every part Proceeding, bade them to the courts of Jove. Nor of the Floods was any absent thence Oceanus except, or of the Nymphs Who haunt the pleasant groves, or dwell beside Stream-feeding fountains, or in meadows green. Within the courts of cloud-assembler Jove Arrived, on pillar'd thrones radiant they sat, With ingenuity divine contrived By Vulcan for the mighty Sire of all. Thus they within the Thunderer's palace sat Assembled; nor was Neptune slow to hear The voice of Themis, but (the billows left) Came also; in the midst his seat he took, And ask'd, incontinent, the mind of Jove.
So saying, he urged Minerva prompt before. In form a shrill-voiced Harpy of long wing Through ether down she darted, while the Greeks In all their camp for instant battle arm'd. Ambrosial sweets and nectar she instill'd Into his breast, lest he should suffer loss Of strength through abstinence, then soar'd again To her great Sire's unperishing abode. And now the Grecians from their gallant fleet All pour'd themselves abroad. As when thick snow From Jove descends, driven by impetuous gusts Of the cloud-scattering North, so frequent shone Issuing from the fleet the dazzling casques, Boss'd bucklers, hauberks strong, and ashen spears. Upwent the flash to heaven; wide all around The champain laugh'd with beamy brass illumed, And tramplings of the warriors on all sides Resounded, amidst whom Achilles arm'd. He gnash'd his teeth, fire glimmer'd in his eyes, Anguish intolerable wrung his heart And fury against Troy, while he put on His glorious arms, the labor of a God. First, to his legs his polish'd greaves he clasp'd Studded with silver, then his corselet bright Braced to his bosom, his huge sword of brass Athwart his shoulder slung, and his broad shield Uplifted last, luminous as the moon. Such as to mariners a fire appears, Kindled by shepherds on the distant top Of some lone hill; they, driven by stormy winds, Reluctant roam far off the fishy deep, Such from Achilles' burning shield divine A lustre struck the skies; his ponderous helm He lifted to his brows; starlike it shone, And shook its curling crest of bushy gold, By Vulcan taught to wave profuse around. So clad, godlike Achilles trial made If his arms fitted him, and gave free scope To his proportion'd limbs; buoyant they proved As wings, and high upbore his airy tread. He drew his father's spear forth from his case, Heavy and huge and long. That spear, of all Achaia's sons, none else had power to wield; Achilles only could the Pelian spear Brandish, by Chiron for his father hewn From Pelion's top for slaughter of the brave. His coursers, then, Automedon prepared And Alcimus, adjusting diligent The fair caparisons; they thrust the bits Into their mouths, and to the chariot seat Extended and made fast the reins behind. The splendid scourge commodious to the grasp Seizing, at once Automedon upsprang Into his place; behind him, arm'd complete Achilles mounted, as the orient sun All dazzling, and with awful tone his speech Directed to the coursers of his Sire.
But Juno of the golden throne stood forth On the Olympian summit, viewing thence The field, where clear distinguishing the God Of ocean, her own brother, sole engaged Amid the glorious battle, glad was she. Seeing Jove also on the topmost point Of spring-fed Ida seated, she conceived Hatred against him, and thenceforth began Deliberate how best she might deceive The Thunderer, and thus at last resolved; Attired with skill celestial to descend On Ida, with a hope to allure him first Won by her beauty to a fond embrace, Then closing fast in balmy sleep profound His eyes, to elude his vigilance, secure. She sought her chamber; Vulcan her own son That chamber built. He framed the solid doors, And to the posts fast closed them with a key Mysterious, which, herself except, in heaven None understood. Entering she secured The splendid portal. First, she laved all o'er Her beauteous body with ambrosial lymph, Then polish'd it with richest oil divine Of boundless fragrance; oil that in the courts Eternal only shaken, through the skies Breathed odors, and through all the distant earth. Her whole fair body with those sweets bedew'd, She passed the comb through her ambrosial hair, And braided her bright locks streaming profuse From her immortal brows; with golden studs She made her gorgeous mantle fast before, Ethereal texture, labor of the hands Of Pallas beautified with various art, And braced it with a zone fringed all around A hundred fold; her pendants triple-gemm'd Luminous, graceful, in her ears she hung, And covering all her glories with a veil Sun-bright, new-woven, bound to her fair feet Her sandals elegant. Thus full attired, In all her ornaments, she issued forth, And beckoning Venus from the other powers Of heaven apart, the Goddess thus bespake.
Her answer'd then Pelides, glorious Chief. How shall I seek the fight? they have my arms. My mother charged me also to abstain From battle, till she bring me armor new Which she hath promised me from Vulcan's hand. Meantime, whose armor else might serve my need I know not, save perhaps alone the shield Of Telamonian Ajax, whom I deem Himself now busied in the stormy van, Slaying the Trojans in my friend's defence.
Whom answer'd thus the messenger of heav'n Archer divine! yea, and with all my heart; And be the bands which wind us round about Thrice these innumerable, and let all The Gods and Goddesses in heav'n look on, So I may clasp Vulcan's fair spouse the while.
So spake he scorch'd, and all his waters boil'd. As some huge caldron hisses urged by force Of circling fires and fill'd with melted lard, The unctuous fluid overbubbling streams On all sides, while the dry wood flames beneath, So Xanthus bubbled and his pleasant flood Hiss'd in the fire, nor could he longer flow But check'd his current, with hot steams annoy'd By Vulcan raised. His supplication, then, Importunate to Juno thus he turn'd.
Then Vulcan his tremendous fires repress'd, And down into his gulfy channel rush'd The refluent flood; for when the force was once Subdued of Xanthus, Juno interposed, Although incensed, herself to quell the strife.
So saying, his keen falchion from his side He drew, well-temper'd, ponderous, and rush'd At once to combat. As the eagle darts Right downward through a sullen cloud to seize Weak lamb or timorous hare, so brandishing His splendid falchion, Hector rush'd to fight. Achilles, opposite, with fellest ire Full-fraught came on; his shield with various art Celestial form'd, o'erspread his ample chest, And on his radiant casque terrific waved The bushy gold of his resplendent crest, By Vulcan spun, and pour'd profuse around. Bright as, among the stars, the star of all Most radiant, Hesperus, at midnight moves, So, in the right hand of Achilles beam'd His brandish'd spear, while, meditating wo To Hector, he explored his noble form, Seeking where he was vulnerable most. But every part, his dazzling armor torn From brave Patroclus' body, well secured, Save where the circling key-bone from the neck Disjoins the shoulder; there his throat appear'd, Whence injured life with swiftest flight escapes; Achilles, plunging in that part his spear, Impell'd it through the yielding flesh beyond. The ashen beam his power of utterance left Still unimpair'd, but in the dust he fell, And the exulting conqueror exclaim'd.
So Vulcan, and, upstarting, placed a cup Full-charged between his mother's hands, and said,
So saying, he left the council; him, at once The sceptred Chiefs, obedient to his voice, Arising, follow'd; and the throng began. As from the hollow rock bees stream abroad, And in succession endless seek the fields, Now clustering, and now scattered far and near, In spring-time, among all the new-blown flowers, So they to council swarm'd, troop after troop, Grecians of every tribe, from camp and fleet Assembling orderly o'er all the plain Beside the shore of Ocean. In the midst A kindling rumor, messenger of Jove, Impell'd them, and they went. Loud was the din Of the assembling thousands; groan'd the earth When down they sat, and murmurs ran around. Nine heralds cried aloud--Will ye restrain Your clamors, that your heaven-taught Kings may speak? Scarce were they settled, and the clang had ceased, When Agamemnon, sovereign o'er them all, Sceptre in hand, arose. (That sceptre erst Vulcan with labor forged, and to the hand Consign'd it of the King, Saturnian Jove; Jove to the vanquisher of Ino's guard, And he to Pelops; Pelops in his turn, To royal Atreus; Atreus at his death Bequeath'd it to Thyestes rich in flocks, And rich Thyestes left it to be borne By Agamemnon, symbol of his right To empire over Argos and her isles) On that he lean'd, and rapid, thus began.