Book X: The Night-Adventure of Diomed and Ulysses

All the night long the captains of the GreeksSlept at the ships, and pleasant was their sleep—Save only Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,The shepherd of the people. Not to him—Vexed with a thousand cares—came gentle sleep.As when the husband of the light-haired queenOf heaven sends forth his thunders, ushering inSome wide-involving shower—rain, hail, or snowWhitening the fields—or opening o’er some landThe ravenous jaws of unrelenting war—So frequent were the groans which from his heartAtrides uttered; for within his breastHis heart was troubled. Looking toward the plainOf Troy, he wondered at the many firesBlazing before the city, and the soundOf flutes and fifes, and tumult of the crowd.But when he turned him toward the fleet and hostOf Greece, he tore his hair, and flung it upTo Jove, and vented his great heart in groans.And now at length it seemed to him most wiseTo seek Neleian Nestor, and with himDevise some plan by which to turn asideThe threatened evil from the Greeks. He rose,And drew his tunic o’er his breast, and lacedThe graceful sandals to his well-shaped feet;And o’er his shoulders threw the blood-stained hideOf a huge tawny lion, that reached downEven to the ground; and took in hand his spear.Meantime with like uneasy thoughts oppressedWas Menelaus, to whose eyes there cameNo slumber—dreading lest calamityShould light upon the Greeks, who for his sakeHad crossed the sea to carry war to Troy.And first he threw a leopard’s spotted hideO’er his broad back, and placed the brazen helmUpon his head, and took in his strong graspA spear, and went to bid his brother wake—His brother, the chief ruler over allThe men of Greece, and honored like a god.He found him at his galley’s prow in actTo sheath his shoulders in the shining mail,And pleased to greet his coming. To the kingThus Menelaus, great in battle, spake:—

“Why arm thyself, my brother? Wouldst thou sendA warrior to explore the Trojan camp?None will accept the task, I fear, to creepAlone at dead of night, a spy, withinThe hostile lines;—a bold man must he be.”

Then answered Agamemnon, king of men:—“Most noble Menelaus, much we needWise counsel—thou and I—to save our menAnd galleys from destruction, since the willOf Jove is changed. Now hath the God respectTo Hector’s sacrifices; for in truthI never saw—I never heard of oneWho in one day performed such mighty deedsAs Hector, dear to Jove, just now hath wrought,Though not the son of goddess or of god.Those deeds will be, I deem, for many a dayA cause of bitter sorrow to the Greeks—Such evil hath he wrought. Now go at once,And from their galleys call IdomeneusAnd Ajax; while to noble Nestor’s tentI go, and pray that he will rise and giveTheir orders to the sacred band of guards;—For they will hearken to him, since his sonCommands them jointly with Meriones,The armor-bearer of Idomeneus—Both named by us to that important trust.”

Then Menelaus, great in battle, said:—“What wilt thou, then, and what dost thou command—That I remain with them until thou come,Or, having given the message, seek thee here?”

Again the monarch Agamemnon spake:—“Wait there, lest as we go I meet thee not,For many ways are through the camp. But thou,In going, shout aloud and bid them allBe vigilant, accosting everyoneBy his paternal name, and giving eachDue honor: bear thyself not haughtily:We too must labor; for when we were bornJove laid this hard condition on us all.”

So spake he, and, dismissing with that chargeHis brother, hastened to where Nestor lay,The shepherd of his people. Him he foundOn his soft couch within his tent besideHis dark-brown ship. Around him scattered shoneHis arms—a shield, two spears, a gleaming helm,And pliant belt, with which the ancient manGirded himself when arming to lead onHis men to murderous fight;—for not to ageThe warrior yielded yet. He raised his head,And, leaning on his elbow, questioned thusAtrides: “Who art thou that traversestThe camp beside the fleet at dead of night,Alone, while others sleep? Com’st thou to findOne of the guardsmen, or a comrade? Speak;Come not in silence thus: what wouldst thou have?”

Then answered Agamemnon, king of men:—“O Nestor, son of Neleus, whom the GreeksAll glory in! Thou certainly wilt knowAtrides Agamemnon, whom the willOf Jove hath visited with hardships greatBeyond what others bear, to last while breathIs in my lungs, and while my knees can move.I wander thus abroad because sweet sleepComes not to close my eyelids, and the warAnd slaughter of the Greeks distress me sore.For them I greatly fear, my heart is faint,My mind confounded. In my breast the heartPants, and my limbs all tremble. If thou wilt—For, as I see, thou also dost not sleep—Come with me to the guards, that we may knowWhether, o’ercome by toil and weariness,They give themselves to slumber and forgetTheir watch. The foe is near us in his camp,And how know we that even now by nightHe plans not, to attack us in our tents?”

Then Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied:—“Atrides Agamemnon, glorious kingOf men, almighty Jove will not performFor Hector all that Hector plans and hopes;And heavier cares, I think, will yet be hisWhen once Achilles’ wrath is turned away.Yet willingly I join thee. Let us callThe other chiefs—Ulysses, Diomed,Both mighty spearmen; Ajax, swift of foot;And the brave son of Phyleus. It were wellTo send and bid the mightier Ajax come,And King Idomeneus, for farthest offThe ships of both are stationed. I shall chideThy brother Menelaus—though he beHonored and dear, and though it please thee not—For sleeping, while he leaves such toils as theseTo thee alone. He should be here amongThe chiefs, exhorting them to valiant deeds;For now the hour of bitter need is come.”

Again spake Agamemnon, king of men:—“At other times, old chief, I would have beggedThat thou shouldst blame him: he is oft remiss,And late to act; but not because of sloth,Or want of spirit, but he looks to meAnd waits for my example. Yet tonightHe rose before me, sought me, and is sentTo call the chiefs whom thou hast named; and nowLet us go on, and meet them where they wait,Among the guards and just before the gates—For I appointed that the trysting-place.”

And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied:—“Then let no Greek condemn him, or refuseTo heed and to obey when he shall speak.”

He spake, and drew his tunic o’er his breast,Laced the fair sandals to his shapely feet,And round him fastened, with a clasp, his cloak—A double web of purple, with full foldsAnd flowing pile. He grasped a massive spear,Its blade of trenchant brass. And first he soughtThe galleys of the Achaians brazen-mailed.There shouted Nestor the Gerenian knight,To raise Ulysses, best of counsellors,Jove-like in wisdom; who perceived the voice,And issued from his tent in haste, and said:—

“What brings you forth to walk the camp at night,Beside the ships alone; what urgent cause?”

Then answered Nestor, the Gerenian knight:—“Son of Laertes, nobly born, and skilledIn wise devices, be thou not displeased:A fearful woe impends above the Greeks:Come, then, and call the other chiefs, to giveTheir counsel whether we shall flee or fight.”

He spake; and wise Ulysses, enteringHis tent again, upon his shoulders laidHis well-wrought shield, and joined them as they went,Till, coming to Tydides Diomed,They found him by his tent among his arms,His comrades sleeping round him with their shieldsBeneath their heads. Their spears were set upright,The nether points in earth. The polished brassGleamed like the lightnings of All-Father Jove.In sleep the hero lay; a wild bull’s hideWas spread beneath him, and a carpet dyedWith glowing colors propped his head. The knight,Gerenian Nestor, touched him with his footAnd roused him, and addressed him chidingly:—

“O son of Tydeus! Wilt thou calmly sleepAll the night long? And hast thou, then, not heardThat on a height amidst the plain the sonsOf Troy are stationed, near the ships, and smallThe space that parts the enemy’s camp from ours?”

He spake. The son of Tydeus sprang from sleepAt once, and answered him with wingèd words:

“Thy labors are too constant, aged man;Thou shrinkest from no hardship. Are there notYoung men among the Greeks to walk the campAnd call the kings? Thou never takest rest.”

And Nestor, the Gerenian knight, replied:—“Well hast thou said, my friend, for I have sonsWithout reproach, and I have many troops;And any one of these might walk the campAnd give the summons. But tonight there liesA hard necessity upon the Greeks,And their destruction and their rescue hangBalanced on a knife’s edge. Come then, since thouArt younger, call swift Ajax and the sonOf Phyleus, if thou wouldst relieve my age.”

He spake; and Diomed around him flungA tawny lion’s ample hide, that reachedDown to his feet, and took his spear and wentAnd summoned the two kings, and brought them forth.

Now when they came among the assembled guard,Its leaders were not slumbering; every manSat watchful and in arms. As dogs that guardFlocks in a sheepfold hear some savage beastThat comes through thickets down the mountainside;Loud is the clamor of the dogs and men,And sleep is frightened thence—so gentle sleepFled from the eyes of those who watched, that night,Sadly, with eyes turned ever toward the plain,Intently listening for the foe’s approach.The aged Nestor saw them, and rejoiced,And thus encouraged them with wingèd words:—

“Watch thus, dear youths, let no one yield to sleep,Lest we become the mockery of the foe.”

He spake, and crossed the trench; and with him wentThe Grecian leaders, they who had been calledTo council. With them went MerionesAnd Nestor’s eminent son, for they had bothBeen summoned. Crossing to the other sideOf that deep trench, they found an open spaceClear of the dead, in which they sat them down—Just where the fiery Hector, having slainMany Achaians, turned him back when nightCame o’er him. There they sat to hold debateAnd thus spake Nestor the Gerenian knight:—

“Friends! Is there none among you who so farTrusts his own valor that he will tonightVenture among the Trojans? He perchanceMight capture on the borders of the campSome foeman wandering, or might bring reportOf what they meditate, and whether stillThey mean to keep their station far from TroyAnd near our ships, or, since their late success,Return to Ilium. Could he safely bringThis knowledge back to us, his meed were great,Glory among all men beneath the sky,And liberal recompense. As many chiefsAs now command our galleys, each would giveA black ewe with a suckling lamb—such giftsNo one hath yet received—and he should sitA guest at all our banquets and our feasts.”

He spake; and all were silent for a space.Then Diomed, the great in battle, said:—

“Nestor, my resolute spirit urges meTo explore the Trojan camp, that lies so near;Yet, were another warrior by my side,I should go forth with a far surer hope,And greater were my daring. For when twoJoin in the same adventure, one perceivesBefore the other how they ought to act;While one alone, however prompt, resolvesMore tardily and with a weaker will.”

He spake; and many a chief made suit to shareThe risk with Diomed. The ministersOf Mars, the chieftains Ajax, asked to go;Meriones desired it; Nestor’s sonGreatly desired to join the enterprise;Atrides Menelaus, skilled to wieldThe spear, desired it; and that hardy chief,Ulysses, longed to explore the Trojan camp,For full of daring aims was the great soulWithin his bosom. Agamemnon then,The king of men, took up the word and said:—

“Tydides Diomed, most dear of men,Choose from the many chiefs, who ask to bearA part with thee, the bravest. Be not movedBy deference to take the worse and leaveThe abler warrior. Pay no heed to rank,Or race, or wide extent of kingly rule.”

Thus spake the king; for in his heart he fearedFor fair-haired Menelaus. Diomed,The great in battle, then addressed them all:—

“Ye bid me choose: how, then, can I o’erlookGodlike Ulysses, prudent in resolve,And firm in every danger, well belovedBy Pallas. Give me him, and our returnIs sure, though from consuming flames; for heIs wise to plan beyond all other men.”

Ulysses, nobly born and hardy, spakeIn turn: “Tydides, praise me not too much,Nor blame me, for thou speakest to the Greeks,Who know me. Meantime let us haste to go,For the night wears away, and morn is near.The stars are high, two thirds of night are past—The greater part—and scarce a third remains.”

He spake; and both arrayed themselves for fight.The mighty warrior Thrasymedes gaveThe two-edged sword he wore to Diomed—Whose own was at the galleys—and a shield.The hero then put on his helmet, madeOf tough bull-hide, with neither cone nor crest—Such as is worn by beardless youths. A bow,Quiver, and sword Meriones bestowedUpon Ulysses, placing on his browsA leathern helmet, firmly laced withinBy many a thong, and on the outer sideSet thickly with a tusky boar’s white teeth,Which fenced it well and skilfully. A webOf woollen for the temples lined the work.This helm Autolycus once bore awayFrom Eleon, the city where he sackedThe stately palace of Amyntor, sonOf Ormenus. The captor gave the prizeTo the Cytheran chief, Amphidamas,Who bore it to Scandeia, and in turnBestowed it upon Molus as his guest,And Molus gave it to Meriones,His son, to wear in battle. Now at lastIt crowned Ulysses’ temples. When the twainWere all accoutred in their dreadful arms,Forward they went, and left the assembled chiefs,While, sent by Pallas forth, upon their rightA heron flew beside their path. The birdThey saw not, for the night was dark, but heardIts rustling wings. Ulysses at the soundRejoiced, and supplicated Pallas thus:—

“Hear! daughter of the Aegis-bearer Jove!Thou who art near me in all dangers, thouWhose eye is on me wheresoe’er I go,Befriend me, Pallas, yet again, and grantThat, laden with great glory, we returnSafe to the galleys, mighty deeds performed,And woe inflicted on the Trojan race.”

Next Diomed, the great in battle, prayed:—“Daughter invincible of Jove, give earAlso to me. Be with me now, as onceThou didst attend on Tydeus nobly born,My father, when he bore an embassyTo Thebé from the Achaians. He besideThe Asopus left the Achaians mailed in brass,And bore a friendly message to the sonsOf Cadmus, and on his return performedFull many a mighty deed with aid from thee,Great goddess! for thou stoodest by his side.Stand now by me; be thou my shield and guard;And I, in turn, will offer up to theeA yearling heifer, broad between the horns,Which never ploughman yet hath tamed to bearThe yoke. Her to thine altar will I bring,With gilded horns, to be a sacrifice.”

So prayed they. Pallas listened to their prayers;And, having supplicated thus the childOf Jove Almighty, the two chiefs went on Like lions through the darkness of the night, Through slaughter, heaps of corses, and black blood.

Nor now had Hector suffered the brave sonsOf Troy to sleep, but summoned all the chiefs,Leaders, and princes of the host, and thusAddressed the assembly with well-ordered words:—

“Who of you all will promise to performThe task I set him, for a large reward?For ample shall his meed be. I will giveA chariot and two steeds with lofty necks,Swifter than the swift galleys of the Greeks.Great glory will be his whoever daresApproach those ships and bring the knowledge thenceWhether the fleet is guarded as before,Or whether, yielding to our arms, the foeIs meditating flight, and, through the nightO’ercome with weariness, keeps watch no more.”

He spake; and all were silent for a space.Now there was one, among the Trojan chiefs,Whose father was Eumedes, of the trainOf reverend heralds. Dolon was his name,And he was rich in gold and brass, deformedIn face but swift of foot, an only sonAmong five sisters. He stood forth amongThe Trojans, and replied to Hector thus:—

“My daring spirit, Hector, urges meTo visit the swift ships and learn the stateOf the Greek host. But hold thy sceptre forth,And solemnly attest the gods that thouWilt give to me the horses, and the carEngrailed with brass, which bear the illustrious sonOf Peleus. I shall not explore in vain,Nor balk thy hope of me; for I will passInto the camp until I reach the shipOf Agamemnon, where the chiefs are nowDebating whether they shall fly or fight.”

He spake; and Hector held the sceptre forth,And swore: “Be Jupiter the Thunderer,Husband of Juno, witness, that those steedsShall bear no other Trojan than thyself.That honor I confirm to thee alone.”

He spake. It was an idle oath, yet gaveNew courage to the spy, who instantlyUpon his shoulders hung his crooked bow,And round him flung a gray wolf’s hide, and placedA casque of otter-skin upon his head,And took his pointed javelin, and made hasteTo reach the Grecian fleet. Yet was he doomedNever to leave that fleet again, nor bringTidings to Hector. Soon was he beyondThe crowd of men and steeds, and eagerlyHeld on his way. Ulysses first perceivedHis coming, and thus spake to Diomed:—

“Someone, Tydides, from the enemy’s campIs coming, either as a spy, or elseTo spoil the dead. First let us suffer himTo pass us by a little on the plain,Then let us rush and seize him. Should his speedBe greater than our own, let us attackThe fugitive with spears, and drive him onTo where our ships are lying, from his camp,Lest, flying townward, he escape our hands.”

He spake; and both lay down without the pathAmong the dead, while he unwarilyPassed by them. When he now had gone as farAs two yoked mules might at the furrow’s endPrecede a pair of oxen—for by mulesThe plough is drawn more quickly through the soilOf the deep fallow—then they rose, and rushedTo seize him. As he heard their steps he stopped.In hope that his companions had been sentFrom Troy by Hector to conduct him back.But when they came within a javelin’s cast,Or haply less, he saw that they were foes,And moved his nimble knees, and turned to flee,While rapidly they followed. As two hounds,Sharp-toothed, and trained to track their prey, pursueThrough forest-grounds some fawn or hare that runsBefore them panting, so did DiomedAnd terrible Ulysses without stopFollow the fugitive, to cut him offFrom his own people. In his flight he cameWhere soon he would have mingled with the guards,Close to the fleet. Then Pallas breathed new strengthInto Tydides, that no other GreekMight boast that he had wounded Dolon first,And steal the honor. Therefore, with his spearUplifted, Diomed rushed on and spake:—

“Stop, or my spear o’ertakes thee, nor wilt thouEscape a certain death from this right hand.”

He spake, and hurled his spear—but not to smite—At Dolon, over whose right shoulder passedThe polished weapon, and, descending, piercedThe ground. Then Dolon, pale and fear-struck, stopped,And quaked, with chattering teeth and stammering speech.They, breathless with the chase, came up and seizedHis hands, while, bursting into tears, he spake:—

“Take me alive, and ye shall have from meA ransom: there is store of brass and goldAnd well-wrought steel, of which a princely shareMy father will bestow when he shall hearOf me alive and at the Grecian fleet.”

The crafty chief Ulysses answered thus:—“Take heart, and cease to think of death, but tell,And truly, why thou camest to our fleet:Was it to strip the bodies of the dead?Camest thou, sent by Hector, as a spyAmong our ships, or of thine own accord?”

And Dolon answered, trembling still with fear:—“Hector, against my will and to my hurt,Persuaded me. He promised to bestowOn me the firm-paced coursers, and the carEngrailed with brass, which bear the illustrious sonOf Peleus, and enjoined me by the aidOf darkness to approach the foe and learnWhether ye guard your galleys as before,Or, overcome by us, consult on flight,And, wearied with the hardships of the day,Have failed to set the accustomed nightly watch.”

The man of craft, Ulysses, smiled, and said:—“Truly, thy hope was set on princely gifts—The steeds of war-renowned Aeacides,Hard to be reined by mortal hands, or driven asBy any, save by Peleus’ son himself,Whom an immortal mother bore. But come,Tell me—and tell the truth—where hast thou leftHector, the leader of the host, and whereAre laid his warlike arms; where stand his steeds;Where are the sentinels, and where the tentsOf other chiefs? On what do they consult?Will they remain beside our galleys here,Or do they meditate, since, as they say,The Greeks are beaten, a return to Troy?”

Dolon, Eumedes’ son, made answer thus:—“What thou requirest I will truly tell.Hector is with his counsellors, and now,Apart from all the bustle, at the tombOf Ilus the divine, he plans the war.Sentries, of whom thou speakest, there are none;No chosen band, O hero! has in chargeTo guard the camp. By all their blazing fires,Constrained by need, the Trojans keep awake,And each exhorts his fellow to maintainThe watch: not so the auxiliar troops who cameFrom far: they sleep, and since they have no wivesNor children near, they let the Trojans watch.”

Then thus the man of wiles, Ulysses, spake:—“How sleep they—mingled with the knights of TroyOr by themselves? Tell me, that I may know.”

Dolon, Eumedes’ son, made answer thus:—“What thou requirest I will truly tell.On one hand, toward the sea, the bowmen lieOf Caria and Paeonia, and with themLelegans, Caucons, and the gallant tribeOf the Pelasgians. On the other hand,Toward Thymbra, are the Lycians, the proud raceOf Mysia, Phrygia’s knights, and cavalryOf the Maeonians. Why should ye inquireThe place of each? If ye design tonightTo penetrate into the Trojan camp,There are the Thracians, newly come, apartFrom all the others: with them is their king,Rhesus, the son of Eioneus; his steedsAre far the largest and most beautifulI ever saw—the snow is not so white,The wind is not so swift. His chariot shinesWith gold and silver, and the coat of mailIn which he came to Troy is all of gold,And gloriously and marvellously bright,Such as becomes not mortal men to wear,But the gods only. Now to your swift ShipsLead me; or bind me fast with thongs, and hereLeave me till your return; and ye shall knowWhether the words I speak be true or false.”

Then sternly spake the gallant Diomed:—“Once in our hands a prisoner, do not think,O Dolon! to escape, though thou hast toldThings that shall profit us. For if we nowRelease thee thou wilt surely come againTo the Greek fleet, a spy, or openlyTo fight against us. If I take thy life,’Tis certain thou wilt harm the Greeks no more.”

He spake. And as the suppliant took his chinIn his large hand, and had begun a prayer,He smote him with his sword at the mid-neck,And cut the tendons both; the severed head,While yet he spake, fell, rolling in the dust.And then they took his helm of otter-skinThe wolf’s-hide, sounding bow, and massive spear.The nobly born Ulysses in his handLifted the trophies high, devoting themTo Pallas, deity of spoil, and prayed:—

“Delight thyself, O goddess, in these arms,For thee we first invoke, of all the godsUpon Olympus. Guide us now to findThe camp and coursers of the sons of Thrace.”

He spake; and, raising them aloft, he hungThe spoils upon a tamarisk, and brakeReeds and the spreading branches of the treeTo form a mark, that so on their returnThey might not, in the darkness, miss the spot.Then onward, mid strewn arms and pools of blood,They went, and soon were where the Thracians lay.There slept the warriors, overpowered with toil;Their glittering arms were near them, fairly rangedIn triple rows, and by each suit of armsTwo coursers. Rhesus slumbered in the midst.Near him were his fleet horses, which were madeFast to the chariot’s border by the reins.Ulysses saw them first, and, pointing, said:—

“This is the man, O Diomed, and theseThe steeds, described by Dolon whom we slew.Come, then; put forth thy strength of arm, for illDoth it become thee to stand idle here,Armed as thou art. Loose thou the steeds; or elseSlay thou the men, and leave the steeds to me.”

He spake. The blue-eyed Pallas straightway gaveStrength to Tydides, who on every sideDealt slaughter. From the smitten by the swordRose fearful groans; the ground was red with blood.As when a ravening lion suddenlySprings on a helpless flock of goats or sheep,So fell Tydides on the Thracian band,Till twelve were slain. Whomever DiomedApproached and smote, the sage Ulysses seized,And drew him backward by the feet, that thusThe flowing-maned coursers might pass forthUnhindered, nor, by treading on the dead,Be startled; for they yet were new to war.Now when the son of Tydeus reached the king—The thirteenth of his victims—him he slewAs he breathed heavily; for on that nightA fearful dream, in shape Oenides’ son,Stood o’er him, sent by Pallas. CarefullyUlysses meantime loosed the firm-paced steeds,And, fastening them together, drave them forth,Urging them with his bow: he had not thoughtTo take the showy lash that lay in sightOn the fair chariot-seat. In going thenceHe whistled, as a sign to Diomed,Who lingered, pondering on his next exploit—Whether to seize the chariot where was laidThe embroidered armor, dragging it away;Or, lifting it aloft, to bear it thence;Or take more Thracian lives. As thus his thoughtsWere busy, Pallas, standing near him, spake:—

“O son of large-souled Tydeus, think betimesOf thy return to where the galleys lie;Else may some god arouse the sons of Troy,And thou be forced to reach the ships by flight.”

She spake. He knew the goddess by her voice,And leaped upon a steed. Ulysses lashedThe horses with his bow, and on they flewToward the swift galleys of the Grecian host.

Apollo, bearer of the silver bow,Kept no vain watch, and, angry when he sawMinerva at the side of Diomed,Down to the mighty host of Troy he came,And roused from sleep a Thracian counsellor—Hippocoön, a kinsman of the houseOf Rhesus. Leaping from his couch, he sawThe vacant spot where the swift steeds had stood,And, weltering in their blood, the dying chiefs,He saw, and wept aloud, and called by nameHis dear companion. Then a clamor rose,And boundless tumult, as the Trojans cameAll rushing to the spot, and marvellingAt what the daring warriors, who were nowReturning to the hollow ships, had done.

And when these warriors now had reached the spotWhere Hector’s spy was slain, Ulysses, dearTo Jupiter, reined in the fiery steeds,And Diomed leaped down and took the spoilBlood-stained, and gave it to Ulysses’ hands,And mounted. Then again they urged the steeds,Which, not unwilling, flew along the way.First Nestor heard the approaching sound, and said:—

“Friends, chiefs and princes of the Greeks, my heart—Truly or falsely—urges me to speak.The trampling of swift steeds is in my ears.O that Ulysses and the gallant sonOf Tydeus might be bringing at this hourFirm-footed coursers from the enemy’s camp!Yet must I fear that these, our bravest chiefs,Have met disaster from the Trojan crew.”

While he was speaking yet, the warriors came.They sprang to earth; their friends, rejoicing, flockedAround them, greeting them with grasp of handsAnd with glad words, while the Gerenian knight,Nestor, inquired: “Declare, illustrious chief,Glory of Greece, Ulysses, how ye tookThese horses: from the foe;—or did some godBestow them? They are glorious as the sun.Oft am I midst the Trojans, for, though old,I lag not idly at the ships; yet ne’erHave my eyes looked on coursers like to these.Some god, no doubt, has given them, for to Jove,The God of storms, and Pallas, blue-eyed childOf aegis-bearing Jove, ye both are dear.”

Then sage Ulysses answered: “Pride of Greece!Neleian Nestor, truly might a godHave given us nobler steeds than even these.All power is with the gods. But these of whichThou askest, aged man, are brought from Thrace,And newly come. Brave Diomed hath slainTheir lord, and twelve companions by his side—All princes. Yet another victim fell—A spy whom, near our ships, we put to death—A man whom Hector and his brother chiefsSent forth by midnight to explore our camp.”

He spake, and gayly caused the firm-paced steedsTo pass the trench; the other Greeks, well pleased,Went with him. When they reached the stately tentOf Diomed, they led the coursers onTo stalls where Diomed’s fleet horses stoodChamping the wholesome corn, and bound them thereWith halters neatly shaped. Ulysses placedUpon his galley’s stern the bloody spoilOf Dolon, to be made an offeringTo Pallas. Then, descending to the sea,They washed from knees and neck and thighs the grimeOf sweat; and when in the salt wave their limbsWere cleansed, and all the frame refreshed, they steppedInto the polished basins of the bath,And, having bathed and rubbed with fragrant oilTheir limbs, they sat them down to a repast,And from a brimming jar beside them drew,And poured to Pallas first, the pleasant wine.