THE ARGUMENT

Th’ Atrides, watching, wake the other peers,
And (in the fort, consulting of their fears)
Two kings they send, most stout, and honour’d most,
For royal scouts, into the Trojan host;
Who meeting Dolon, Hector’s bribéd spy,
Take him, and learn how all the quarters lie.
He told them, in the Thracian regiment
Of rich king Rhesus, and his royal tent,
Striving for safety; but they end his strife,
And rid poor Dolon of a dang’rous life,
Then with digressive wiles they use their force
On Rhesus’ life, and take his snowy horse.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT
Kappa the night exploits applies:
Rhesus’ and Dolons tragedies.

The other princes at their ships soft-finger’d sleep did bind,
But not the Gen’ral; Somnus’ silks bound not his labouring mind
That turn’d, and return’d, many thoughts. And as quick lightnings fly,1
From well-deck’d Juno’s sovereign, out of the thicken’d sky,
Preparing some exceeding rain, or hail, the fruit of cold,
Or down-like snow that suddenly makes all the fields look old,
Or opes the gulfy mouth of war with his ensulphur’d hand,
In dazzling flashes pour’d from clouds, on any punish’d land;
So from Atrides’ troubled heart, through his dark sorrows, flew
Redoubled sighs; his entrails shook, as often as his view
Admir’d the multitude of fires, that gilt the Phrygian shade,
And heard the sounds of fifes, and shawms, and tumults soldiers made.
But when he saw his fleet and host kneel to his care and love,
He rent his hair up by the roots as sacrifice to Jove,
Burnt in his fi’ry sighs, still breath’d out of his royal heart,
And first thought good to Nestor’s care his sorrows to impart,
To try if royal diligence, with his approv’d advice,
Might fashion counsels to prevent their threaten’d miseries.
So up he rose, attir’d himself, and to his strong feet tied
Rich shoes, and cast upon his back a ruddy lion’s hide,
So ample it his ankles reach’d, then took his royal spear.
Like him was Menelaus pierc’d with an industrious fear,
Nor sat sweet slumber on his eyes, lest bitter fates should quite
The Greeks’ high favours, that for him resolv’d such endless fight.
And first a freckled panther’s hide hid his broad back athwart;
His head his brazen helm did arm; his able hand his dart;
Then made he all his haste to raise his brother’s head as rare,
That he who most excell’d in rule might help t’ effect his care.
He found him, at his ship’s crook’d stern, adorning him with arms;
Who joy’d to see his brother’s spirits awak’d without alarms,
Well weighing th’ importance of the time. And first the younger spake:
“Why, brother, are ye arming thus? Is it to undertake
The sending of some vent’rous Greek, t’ explore the foe’s intent?
Alas! I greatly fear, not one will give that work consent,
Expos’d alone to all the fears that flow in gloomy night.
He that doth this must know death well, in which ends ev’ry fright.”
“Brother,” said he, “in these affairs we both must use advice,
Jove is against us, and accepts great Hector’s sacrifice.
For I have never seen, nor heard, in one day, and by one,
So many high attempts well urg’d, as Hector’s pow’r hath done
Against the hapless sons of Greece: being chiefly dear to Jove,
And without cause, being neither fruit of any Goddess’ love,
Nor helpful God; and yet I fear the deepness of his hand,
Ere it be ras’d out of our thoughts, will many years withstand.
But, brother, hie thee to thy ships, and Idomen’s disease
With warlike Ajax; I will haste to grave Neleides,
Exhorting him to rise, and give the sacred watch command,
For they will specially embrace incitement at his hand,
And now his son their captain is, and Idomen’s good friend,
Bold Merion, to whose discharge we did that charge commend.”
“Command’st thou then,” his brother ask’d, “that I shall tarry here
Attending thy resolv’d approach, or else the message bear,
And quickly make return to thee?” He answer’d: “Rather stay,
Lest otherwise we fail to meet, for many a diff’rent way
Lies through our labyrinthian host. Speak ever as you go,
Command strong watch, from sire to son urge all t’ observe the foe,
Familiarly, and with their praise, exciting ev’ry eye,
Not with unseason’d violence of proud authority.
We must our patience exercise, and work ourselves with them,
Jove in our births combin’d such care to either’s diadem.”
Thus he dismiss’d him, knowing well his charge before he went.
Himself to Nestor, whom he found in bed within his tent,
By him his damask curets hung, his shield, a pair of darts,
His shining casque, his arming waist; in these he led the hearts
Of his apt soldiers to sharp war, not yielding to his years.
He quickly started from his bed, when to his watchful ears
Untimely feet told some approach; he took his lance in hand,
And spake to him: “Ho, what art thou that walk’st at midnight? Stand.
Is any wanting at the guards? Or lack’st thou any peer?
Speak, come not silent towards me; say, what intend’st thou here?”
He answer’d: “O Neleides, grave honour of our host,
’Tis Agamemnon thou mayst know, whom Jove afflicteth most
Of all the wretched men that live, and will, whilst any breath
Gives motion to my toiléd limbs, and pears me up from death.
I walk the round thus, since sweet sleep cannot inclose mine eyes,
Nor shut those organs care breaks ope for our calamities.
My fear is vehement for the Greeks; my heart, the fount of heat,
With his extreme affects made cold, without my breast doth beat;
And therefore are my sinews strook with trembling; ev’ry part
Of what my friends may feel hath act in my disperséd heart.
But, if thou think’st of any course may to our good redound,
(Since neither thou thyself canst sleep) come, walk with me the round;
In way whereof we may confer, and look to ev’ry guard,
Lest watching long, and weariness with labouring so hard,
Drown their oppresséd memories of what they have in charge.
The liberty we give the foe, alas, is over large,
Their camp is almost mix’d with ours, and we have forth no spies
To learn their drifts; who may perchance this night intend surprise.”
Grave Nestor answer’d: “Worthy king, let good hearts bear our ill.
Jove is not bound to perfect all this busy Hector’s will;
But I am confidently giv’n, his thoughts are much dismay’d
With fear, lest our distress incite Achilles to our aid,
And therefore will not tempt his fate, nor ours, with further pride.
But I will gladly follow thee, and stir up more beside;
Tydides, famous for his lance; Ulysses; Telamon;
And bold Phylëus’ valiant heir. Or else, if anyone
Would haste to call king Idomen, and Ajax, since their sail
Lie so remov’d, with much good speed, it might our haste avail.
But, though he be our honour’d friend, thy brother I will blame,
Not fearing if I anger thee. It is his utter shame
He should commit all pains to thee, that should himself employ,
Past all our princes, in the care, and cure, of our annoy,
And be so far from needing spurs to these his due respects,
He should apply our spirits himself, with pray’rs and urg’d affects.
Necessity (a law to laws, and not to be endur’d)
Makes proof of all his faculties, not sound if not inur’d.”
“Good father,” said the king, “sometimes you know I have desir’d
You would improve his negligence, too oft to ease retir’d.
Nor is it for defect of spirit, or compass of his brain,
But with observing my estate, he thinks, he should abstain
Till I commanded, knowing my place; unwilling to assume,
For being my brother, anything might prove he did presume.
But now he rose before me far, and came t’ avoid delays,
And I have sent him for the men yourself desir’d to raise.
Come, we shall find them at the guards we plac’d before the fort,
For thither my direction was they should with speed resort.”
“Why now,” said Nestor, “none will grudge, nor his just rule withstand.
Examples make excitements strong, and sweeten a command.”
Thus put he on his arming truss, fair shoes upon his feet,
About him a mandilion, that did with buttons meet,
Of purple, large, and full of folds, curl’d with a warmful nap,
A garment that ’gainst cold in nights did soldiers use to wrap;
Then took he his strong lance in hand, made sharp with proved steel,
And went along the Grecian fleet. First at Ulysses’ keel
He call’d, to break the silken fumes that did his senses bind.
The voice through th’ organs of his ears straight rung about his mind.
Forth came Ulysses, asking him: “Why stir ye thus so late?
Sustain we such enforcive cause?” He answered, “Our estate
Doth force this perturbation; vouchsafe it, worthy friend,
And come, let us excite one more, to counsel of some end
To our extremes, by fight, or flight.” He back, and took his shield,
And both took course to Diomed. They found him laid in field,
Far from his tent; his armour by; about him was dispread
A ring of soldiers, ev’ry man his shield beneath his head;
His spear fix’d by him as he slept, the great end in the ground,
The point, that bristled the dark earth, cast a reflection round
Like palid lightnings thrown from Jove; thus this heroë lay,
And under him a big ox-hide; his royal head had stay
On arras hangings, rolléd up; whereon he slept so fast,
That Nestor stirr’d him with his foot, and chid to see him cast
In such deep sleep in such deep woes, and ask’d him why he spent
All night in sleep, or did not hear the Trojans near his tent,
Their camp drawn close upon their dike, small space ’twixt foes and foes?
He, starting up, said, “Strange old man, that never tak’st repose,
Thou art too patient of our toil. Have we not men more young,
To be employ’d from king to king? Thine age hath too much wrong.”
“Said like a king,” replied the sire, “for I have sons renown’d,
And there are many other men, might go this toilsome round;
But, you must see, imperious Need hath all at her command.
Now on the eager razor’s edge, for life or death, we stand2
Then go (thou art the younger man) and if thou love my ease,
Call swift-foot Ajax up thyself, and young Phyleides.”
This said, he on his shoulders cast a yellow lion’s hide,
Big, and reach’d earth; then took his spear, and Nestor’s will applied,
Rais’d the heroes, brought them both. All met; the round they went,
And found not any captain there asleep or negligent,
But waking, and in arms, gave ear to ev’ry lowest sound.
And as keen dogs keep sheep in cotes, or folds of hurdles bound,
And grin at ev’ry breach of air, envious of all that moves,
Still list’ning when the rav’nous beast stalks through the hilly groves,
Then men and dogs stand on their guards, and mighty tumults make,
Sleep wanting weight to close one wink; so did the captains wake,
That kept the watch the whole sad night, all with intentive ear
Converted to the enemies’ tents, that they might timely hear
If they were stirring to surprise; which Nestor joy’d to see.
“Why so, dear sons, maintain your watch, sleep not a wink,” said he,
“Rather than make your fames the scorn of Trojan perjury.”
This said, he foremost passed the dike, the others seconded,
Ev’n all the kings that had been call’d to council from the bed,
And with them went Meriones, and Nestor’s famous son;
For both were call’d by all the kings to consultation.
Beyond the dike they choos’d a place, near as they could from blood,
Where yet appear’d the falls of some, and whence, the crimson flood
Of Grecian lives being pour’d on earth by Hector’s furious chace,
He made retreat, when night repour’d grim darkness in his face.
There sat they down, and Nestor spake: “O friends, remains not one
That will rely on his bold mind, and view the camp, alone,
Of the proud Trojans, to approve if any straggling mate
He can surprise near th’ utmost tents, or learn the brief estate
Of their intentions for the time, and mix like one of them
With their outguards, expiscating if the renown’d extreme
They force on us will serve their turns, with glory to retire,
Or still encamp thus far from Troy? This may he well inquire,
And make a brave retreat untouch’d; and this would win him fame
Of all men canopied with heav’n, and ev’ry man of name,
In all this host shall honour him with an enriching meed,
A black ewe and her sucking lamb (rewards that now exceed
All other best possessions, in all men’s choice requests)
And still be bidden by our kings to kind and royal feasts.”
All rev’renc’d one another’s worth; and none would silence break,
Lest worst should take best place of speech; at last did Diomed speak:
“Nestor, thou ask’st if no man here have heart so well inclin’d
To work this stratagem on Troy? Yes, I have such a mind.
Yet, if some other prince would join, more probable will be
The strengthen’d hope of our exploit. Two may together see
(One going before another still) sly danger ev’ry way;
One spirit upon another works, and takes with firmer stay
The benefit of all his pow’rs; for though one knew his course,
Yet might he well distrust himself, which the other might enforce.”
This offer ev’ry man assum’d, all would with Diomed go;
The two Ajaces, Merion, and Menelaus too;
But Nestor’s son enforc’d it much; and hardy Ithacus,
Who had to ev’ry vent’rous deed a mind as venturous.
Amongst all these thus spake the king: “Tydides, most belov’d,
Choose thy associate worthily; a man the most approv’d
For use and strength in these extremes. Many thou seest stand forth;
But choose not thou by height of place, but by regard of worth,
Lest with thy nice respect of right to any man’s degree,
Thou wrong’st thy venture, choosing one least fit to join with thee,
Although perhaps a greater king.” This spake he with suspect
That Diomed, for honour’s sake, his brother would select.
Then said Tydides: “Since thou giv’st my judgment leave to choose,
How can it so much truth forget Ulysses to refuse,
That bears a mind so most exempt, and vig’rous in th’ effect
Of all high labours, and a man Pallas doth most respect?
We shall return through burning fire, if I with him combine,
He sets strength in so true a course, with counsels so divine.”
Ulysses, loth to be esteem’d a lover of his praise,
With such exceptions humbled him as did him higher raise,
And said: “Tydides, praise me not more than free truth will bear,
Nor yet impair me; they are Greeks that give judicial ear.
But come, the morning hastes, the stars are forward in their course,
Two parts of night are past, the third is left t’ employ our force.”
Now borrow’d they for haste some arms. Bold Thrasymedes lent
Advent’rous Diomed his sword (his own was at his tent),
His shield, and helm tough and well-tann’d, without or plume or crest,
And call’d a murrion, archers’ heads it uséd to invest.
Meriones lent Ithacus his quiver and his bow,
His helmet fashion’d of a hide; the workman did bestow
Much labour in it, quilting it with bow-strings, and, without
With snowy tusks of white-mouth’d boars ’twas arméd round about
Right cunningly, and in the midst an arming cap was plac’d,
That with the fix’d ends of the tusks his head might not be ras’d.
This, long since, by Autolycus was brought from Eleon,
When he laid waste Amyntor’s house, that was Ormenus’ son:
In Scandia, to Cytherius, surnam’d Amphidamas,
Autolycus did give this helm; he, when he feasted was
By honour’d Molus, gave it him, as present of a guest;
Molus to his son Merion did make it his bequest.
With this Ulysses arm’d his head; and thus they, both address’d,
Took leave of all the other kings. To them a glad ostent,
As they were ent’ring on their way, Minerva did present,
A hernshaw consecrate to her, which they could ill discern
Through sable night, but, by her clange, they knew it was a hern.
Ulysses joy’d, and thus invok’d: “Hear me, great Seed of Jove,
That ever dost my labours grace with presence of thy love,
And all my motions dost attend! Still love me, sacred Dame,
Especially in this exploit, and so protect our fame
We both may safely make retreat, and thriftily employ
Our boldness in some great affair baneful to them of Troy.”
Then pray’d illustrate Diomed: “Vouchsafe me likewise ear,
O thou unconquer’d Queen of arms! Be with thy favours near,
As, to my royal father’s steps, thou went’st a bounteous guide,
When th’ Achives and the peers of Thebes he would have pacified,
Sent as the Greeks’ ambassador, and left them at the flood
Of great Æsopus; whose retreat thou mad’st to swim in blood
Of his enambush’d enemies; and, if thou so protect
My bold endeavours, to thy name an heifer most select,
That never yet was tam’d with yoke, broad-fronted, one year old,
I’ll burn in zealous sacrifice, and set the horns in gold.”
The Goddess heard; and both the kings their dreadless passage bore
Through slaughter, slaughter’d carcassed, arms, and discolour’d gore,
Nor Hector let his princes sleep, but all to council call’d,
And ask’d, “What one is here will vow, and keep it unappall’d,
To have a gift fit for his deed, a chariot and two horse,
That pass for speed the rest of Greece? What one dares take this course,
For his renown, besides his gifts, to mix amongst the foe,
And learn if still they hold their guards, or with this overthrow
Determine flight, as being too weak to hold us longer war?”
All silent stood; at last stood forth one Dolon, that did dare
This dang’rous work, Eumedes’ heir, a herald much renown’d.
This Dolon did in gold and brass exceedingly abound,
But in his form was quite deform’d, yet passing swift to run;
Amongst five sisters, he was left Eumedes’ only son.
And he told Hector, his free heart would undertake t’ explore
The Greeks’ intentions, “but,” said he, “thou shalt be sworn before,
By this thy sceptre, that the horse of great Æacides,
And his strong chariot bound with brass, thou wilt (before all these)
Resign me as my valour’s prise; and so I rest unmov’d
To be thy spy, and not return before I have approv’d
(By vent’ring to Atrides’ ship, where their consults are held)
If they resolve still to resist, or fly as quite expell’d.”
He put his sceptre in his hand, and call’d the thunder’s God,
Saturnia’s husband, to his oath, those horse should not be rode
By any other man than he, but he for ever joy
(To his renown) their services, for his good done to Troy.
Thus swore he, and forswore himself, yet made base Dolon bold;
Who on his shoulders hung his bow, and did about him fold
A white wolf’s hide, and with a helm of weasels’ skins did arm
His weasel’s head, then took his dart, and never turn’d to harm
The Greeks with their related drifts; but being past the troops
Of horse and foot, he promptly runs, and as he runs he stoops
To undermine Achilles’ horse. Ulysses straight did see,
And said to Diomed: “This man makes footing towards thee,
Out of the tents. I know not well, if he be us’d as spy
Bent to our fleet, or come to rob the slaughter’d enemy.
But let us suffer him to come a little further on,
And then pursue him. If it chance, that we be overgone
By his more swiftness, urge him still to run upon our fleet,
And (lest he ’scape us to the town) still let thy jav’lin meet
With all his offers of retreat.” Thus stepp’d they from the plain
Amongst the slaughter’d carcasses. Dolon came on amain,
Suspecting nothing; but once past, as far as mules outdraw
Oxen at plough, being both put on, neither admitted law,
To plough a deep-soil’d furrow forth, so far was Dolon past.
Then they pursu’d, which he perceiv’d, and stay’d his speedless haste,
Subtly supposing Hector sent to countermand his spy;
But, in a jav’lin’s throw or less, he knew them enemy.
Then laid he on his nimble knees, and they pursu’d like wind.
As when a brace of greyhounds are laid in with hare and hind,
Close-mouth’d and skill’d to make the best of their industrious course,
Serve either’s turn, and, set on hard, lose neither ground nor force;
So constantly did Tydeus’ son, and his town-razing peer,
Pursue this spy, still turning him, as he was winding near
His covert, till he almost mix’d with their out-courts of guard.
Then Pallas prompted Diomed, lest his due worth’s reward
Should be impair’d if any man did vaunt he first did sheath
His sword in him, and he be call’d but second in his death.
Then spake he, threat’ning with his lance: “Or stay, or this comes on,
And long thou canst not run before thou be by death outgone.”
This said, he threw his jav’lin forth; which missed as Diomed would,
Above his right arm making way, the pile stuck in the mould.
He stay’d and trembled, and his teeth did chatter in his head.
They came in blowing, seiz’d him fast; he, weeping, offeréd
A wealthy ransom for his life, and told them he had brass,
Much gold, and iron, that fit for use in many labours was,
From whose rich heaps his father would a wondrous portion give,
If, at the great Achaian fleet, he heard his son did live.
Ulysses bad him cheer his heart. “Think not of death,” said he,
“But tell us true, why runn’st thou forth, when others sleeping be?
Is it to spoil the carcasses? Or art thou choicely sent
T’ explore our drifts? Or of thyself seek’st thou some wish’d event?”
He trembling answer’d: “Much reward did Hector’s oath propose,
And urg’d me, much against my will, t’ endeavour to disclose
If you determin’d still to stay, or bent your course for flight,
As all dismay’d with your late foil, and wearied with the fight.
For which exploit, Pelides’ horse and chariot he did swear,
I only ever should enjoy.” Ulysses smil’d to hear
So base a swain have any hope so high a prise t’ aspire,
And said, his labours did affect a great and precious hire,
And that the horse Pelides rein’d no mortal hand could use
But he himself, whose matchless life a Goddess did produce.
“But tell us, and report but truth, where left’st thou Hector now?
Where are his arms? His famous horse? On whom doth he bestow
The watch’s charge? Where sleep the kings? Intend they still to lie
Thus near encamp’d, or turn suffic’d with their late victory?”
“All this,” said he, “I’ll tell most true. At Ilus’ monument
Hector with all our princes sits, t’ advise of this event;
Who choose that place remov’d to shun the rude confuséd sounds
The common soldiers throw about. But, for our watch, and rounds,
Whereof, brave lord, thou mak’st demand, none orderly we keep.
The Trojans, that have roofs to save, only abandon sleep,
And privately without command each other they exhort
To make prevention of the worst; and in this slender sort
Is watch and guard maintain’d with us. Th’ auxiliary bands
Sleep soundly, and commit their cares into the Trojans’ hands,
For they have neither wives with them, nor children to protect;
The less they need to care, the more they succour dull neglect.”
“But tell me,” said wise Ithacus, “are all these foreign pow’rs
Appointed quarters by themselves, or else commix’d with yours?”
“And this,” said Dolon, “too, my lords, I’ll seriously unfold.
The Pæons with the crookéd bows, and Cares, quarters hold
Next to the sea, the Leleges, and Caucons, join’d with them,
And brave Pelasgians. Thymber’s mead, remov’d more from the stream,
Is quarter to the Lycians, the lofty Mysian force,
The Phrygians and Meonians, that fight with arméd horse.
But what need these particulars? If ye intend surprise
Of any in our Trojan camps, the Thracian quarter lies
Utmost of all, and uncommix’d with Trojan regiments,
That keep the voluntary watch. New pitch’d are all their tents.
King Rhesus, Eioneus’ son, commands them, who hath steeds
More white than snow, huge, and well-shap’d, their fi’ry pace exceeds
The winds in swiftness; these I saw; his chariot is with gold
And pallid silver richly fram’d, and wondrous to behold;
His great and golden armour is not fit a man should wear,
But for immortal shoulders fram’d. Come then, and quickly bear
Your happy pris’ner to your fleet; or leave him here fast bound,
Till your well-urg’d and rich return prove my relation sound.”
Tydides dreadfully replied: “Think not of passage thus,
Though of right acceptable news thou hast advértis’d us,
Our hands are holds more strict than so; and should we set the free
For offer’d ransom, for this ’scape thou still wouldst scouting be
About our ships, or do us scathe in plain opposéd arms,
But, if I take thy life, no way can we repent thy harms.”
With this, as Dolon reach’d his hand to use a suppliant’s part,
And stroke the beard of Diomed, he strook his neck athwart
With his forc’d sword, and both the nerves he did in sunder wound,
And suddenly his head, deceiv’d, fell speaking on the ground.
His weasel’s helm they took, his bow, his wolf’s skin, and his lance,
Which to Minerva Ithacus did zealously advance,
With lifted arm into the air; and to her thus he spake:
“Goddess, triumph in thine own spoils; to thee we first will make
Our invocations, of all pow’rs thron’d on th’ Olympian hill;
Now to the Thracians, and their horse, and beds, conduct us still.”
With this, he hung them up aloft upon a tamrick bough
As eyeful trophies, and the sprigs that did about it grow
He proinéd from the leafy arms, to make it easier view’d
When they should hastily retire, and be perhaps pursu’d,
Forth went they through black blood and arms, and presently aspir’d
The guardless Thracian regiment, fast bound with sleep, and tir’d;
Their arms lay by, and triple ranks they, as they slept, did keep,
As they should watch and guard their king, who, in a fatal sleep,
Lay in the midst; their chariot horse, as they coach-fellows were,
Fed by them; and the famous steeds, that did their gen’ral bear,
Stood next him, to the hinder part of his rich chariot tied.
Ulysses saw them first, and said, “Tydides, I have spied
The horse that Dolon, whom we slew, assur’d us we should see.
Now use thy strength; now idle arms are most unfit for thee;
Prise thou the horse; or kill the guard, and leave the horse to me.”
Minerva, with the azure eyes, breath’d strength into her king,
Who filled the tent with mixéd death. The souls, he set on wing,
Issu’d in groans, and made air swell into her stormy flood.
Horror and slaughter had one pow’r, the earth did blush with blood.
As when a hungry lion flies, with purpose to devour,
On flocks unkept, and on their lives doth freely use his pow’r;
So Tydeus’ son assail’d the foe; twelve souls before him flew;
Ulysses waited on his sword, and ever as he slew,
He drew them by their strengthless heels out of the horses’ sight.
That, when he was to lead them forth, they should not with affright
Boggle, nor snore, in treading on the bloody carcasses;
For being new come, they were unus’d to such stern sights as these.
Through four ranks now did Diomed the king himself attain,
Who, snoring in his sweetest sleep, was like his soldiers slain.
An ill dream by Minerva sent that night stood by his head,
Which was Oenides’ royal, unconquer’d Diomed.
Meanwhile Ulysses loos’d his horse, took all their reins in hand,
And led them forth; but Tydeus’ son did in contention stand
With his great mind to do some deed of more audacity;
If he should take the chariot, where his rich arms did lie,
And draw it by the beam away, or bear it on his back,
Or if, of more dull Thracian lives, he should their bosoms sack.
In this contention with himself, Minerva did suggest
And bade him think of his retreat; lest from their tempted rest
Some other God should stir the foe, and send him back dismay’d.
He knew the voice, took horse, and fled. The Trojan’s heav’nly aid,
Apollo with the silver how, stood no blind sentinel
To their secure and drowsy host, but did discover well
Minerva following Diomed; and, angry with his act,
The mighty host of Ilion he enter’d, and awak’d
The cousin-german of the king, a counsellor of Thrace,
Hippocoon; who when he rose, and saw the desert place,
Where Rhesus’ horse did use to stand, and th’ other dismal harms,
Men struggling with the pangs of death, he shriek’d out thick alarms,
Call’d “Rhesus! Rhesus!” but in vain; then still, “Arm! Arm!” he cried.
The noise and tumult was extreme on every startled side
Of Troy’s huge host; from whence in throngs all gather’d, and admir’d
Who could perform such harmful facts, and yet be safe retir’d,
Now, coming where they slew the scout, Ulysses stay’d the steeds,
Tydides lighted, and the spoils, hung on the tamrick reeds,
He took and gave to Ithacus, and up he got again.
Then flew they joyful to their fleet. Nestor did first attain
The sounds the horse-hoofs strook through air, and said: “My royal peers!
Do I but dote, or say I true? Methinks about mine ears
The sounds of running horses beat. O would to God they were
Our friends thus soon return’d with spoils! But I have hearty fear,
Lest this high tumult of the foe doth their distress intend.”
He scarce had spoke, when they were come. Both did from horse descend.
All, with embraces and sweet words, to heav’n their worth did raise.
Then Nestor spake: “Great Ithacus, ev’n heap’d with Grecian praise,
How have you made these horse your prise? Pierc’d you the dang’rous host,
Where such gems stand? Or did some God your high attempts accost,
And honour’d you with this reward? Why, they be like the rays
The sun effuseth. I have mix’d with Trojans all my days;
And now, I hope you will not say, I always lie aboard,
Though an old soldier I confess; yet did all Troy afford
Never the like to any sense that ever I possess’d.
But some good God, no doubt, hath met, and your high valours bless’d,
For He that shadows heav’n with clouds loves both as his delights,
And She that supples earth with blood cannot forbear your sights.”
Ulysses answer’d: “Honour’d sire, the willing Gods can give
Horse much more worth than these men yield, since in more pow’r they live.
These horse are of the Thracian breed; their king, Tydides slew,
And twelve of his most trusted guard; and of that meaner crew
A scout for thirteenth man we kill’d, whom Hector sent to spy
The whole estate of our designs, if bent to fight or fly.”
Thus, follow’d with whole troops of friends, they with applauses pass’d
The spacious dike, and in the tent of Diomed they plac’d
The horse without contention, as his deserving’s meed,
Which, with his other horse set up, on yellow wheat did feed.
Poor Dolon’s spoils Ulysses had; who shrin’d them on his stern,
As trophies vow’d to her that sent the good-aboding hern.
Then enter’d they the mere main sea, to cleanse their honour’d sweat
From off their feet, their thighs and necks; and, when their vehement heat
Was calm’d, and their swoln hearts refresh’d, more curious baths they us’d,
Where od’rous and dissolving oils, they through their limbs diffus’d.
Then, taking breakfast, a big bowl, fill’d with the purest wine,
They offer’d to the Maiden Queen, that hath the azure eyne.
THE END OF THE TENTH BOOK.

1 These are the lightnings before snow, etc. that Scaliger’s Criticus so unworthily taxeth; citing the place falsely, as in the third book’s annotations, etc.
2 ᾽Επὶ ξυρου̑ ἵσταται ἀκμη̑ς. This went into a proverb, used by Theocritus, in Dioscuris, out of Homer.