Book X

THERE by the galleys the rest of the chiefs of Achaia’s array
Slept through the night, by slumber soft overborne as they lay.
But on Atreus’ son Agamemnon the shepherd of folk pressed not
The sweet sleep-fetter, for still in his soul surged many a thought.
And as when the lord of Héré the fair-tressed lighteneth,
Making ready his deluging rains or the hail of his frozen breath,
Or the storm’s white drift when the snowflakes be sifted the lealand o’er,
Or perchance the yawning jaws of bitter-ravening war;
So fast from his breast did the king Agamemnon the groans outpour,
From the depth of his heart, and within him his spirit lamented sore.
Whensoe’er on the plain far-stretching away unto Troy he gazed,
He marvelled at all those fires that afront of Ilium blazed,
Whence the music of flutes and of pipes and the clamour of warriors broke;
And whenso he turned him to look on the ships and Achaia’s folk,
Many locks from his head by the roots did he tear, and to Zeus high-throned
He upheld them, the while his gallant heart full heavily groaned.
And thus, in the thoughts of his soul, him seemed it were best to be done,—
To hie him before all men unto Nestor Neleus’ son,
If so be he might fashion in council with him some goodly rede
Which might be an averter of bale in the Danaans’ bitter need.
And he rose from his couch, and he cast his tunic his breast around,
And under his glistening feet his beautiful sandals he bound.
And about him he casteth the hide of a lion of flamelike mane,
A forest-king tawny and huge, and his lance in his hand hath he ta’en.
Upon Lord Menelaus came trembling too: on his eyelids withal
Did slumber in no wise brood, in his fear lest mischief befall
The Argive men, who had come far over the sea for his sake
Unto Troy, to enkindle the battle, to bid the war-mood wake.
First over his broad deep chest a panther’s hide hath he spread,
A spotted fell; thereafter he lifted and set on his head
His helmet of brass, and he grasped in his brawny hand the spear.
And he hied him to rouse up his brother, whose lordship far and near
Stretched over the Argives, and honoured he was as a God alway.
And he found him clothing his shoulders in goodly war-array
By the stern of his galley, and glad by his coming the king was made.
Then first unto him Menelaus the battle-helper said:
“Why art thou arming thee thus, dear brother? Art sending out
Some comrade this night for a spy on the Trojans? Sorely I doubt
No man shall be found to promise such desperate deed unto thee
As to go and to spy out the foemen, alone, and none but he,
Through the black dark night: sooth, dauntless of heart that man shall be.”
Answered him Lord Agamemnon, and spake with care-bent brow:
“We have need, Menelaus, O fostered of Zeus, both I and thou,
Of helpful counsel to save and deliver from ruin and wrack
The host and the ships, since the purpose of Zeus is now turned back.
His soul hath delighted in Hector’s offerings more, I wis;
For ne’er have I seen, neither heard one tell such a marvel as this,
That one man should compass so many terrible deeds in a day
As Hector the Zeus-beloved hath done to the Argive array,
Unholpen, who is not the dear-loved son of Goddess or God;
Yet deeds hath he done that shall lie, I say, for an anguish-load
Long, long on the Argives, and burden the heart of Achaia withal.
But go now, with haste run thou by the ships, and Aias call
Unto me, and Idomeneus: I unto Nestor the godlike will fare,
And will bid him arise, peradventure the ancient king will bear
My hest to the troop of the watchmen, the sacred warder-band:
Unto him will they soonest obey, seeing he that beareth command
Of the guard is the old king’s son, and with him goeth Mériones
Idomeneus’ henchman, for chiefly we gave them in charge unto these.”
But spake Menelaus the battle-helper doubtfully:
“Nay, but how meanest thou this, the word of thine hest unto me
Shall I tarry for thine appearing, abiding there with the rest,
Or to thee run back, when meetly accomplished is thy behest?”
Unto him did the King of Men Agamemnon make reply:
“Nay, tarry thou there, lest haply we pass each other by
In returning, for many a path up and down through the host doth lead.
And thou when thou comest bid them to watch with sleepless. heed,
Calling on each man, and naming his name, and his race, and his blood,
In courtesy speaking to all, and be not haughty of mood.
But let us too endure all hardness, for Zeus ordained it so,
I ween, from our birth, and hath sent us a heritage of woe.”
So sped he his brother away, to bear that heedful behest;
But himself unto Nestor the shepherd of folk hath onward pressed.
And him by his tent and his ship dark-hulled soft-lying he found
On a bed, and beside him his fair-fashioned war-gear lay on the ground,
The shield and the lances twain and the morion flashing bright,
And his baldric glittering-gay, wherewith that warrior wight
Was girded, what time he arrayed him to lead his host to the field
Of manslaying fight, for to grievous eld would he nowise yield.
Then raised he himself on his elbow, and lifted his good grey head, So
And he spake unto Atreus’ son, and with questioning speech he said:
“Who art thou that thus by the ships and the host comest faring alone
Through the mirk of the black dark night, when waketh beside thee none?
Seeking for one of thy mules or thy comrades comest thou so?
Speak, neither steal thou upon me in silence!—what wilt thou, ho!”
Unto him made answer the King of Men Agamemnon, and spoke:
O Nestor the Neleid, glory of all Achaian folk,
Thou shalt know Agamemnon Atreides, whom Zeus above all the rest
Hath whelmed deep down in affliction, so long as within my breast
Abideth the breath of life, and my will by my limbs is wrought,
And I wander thus, for that sleep on mine eyes soft-broodeth not,
But aye for Achaia’s wars and her woes am I care-distraught.
For sorely I fear for the Danaan men, neither fixed is mine heart,
As I toss to and fro, but throbbeth as forth of my breast it would start;
And my armour-splendid limbs beneath me with trembling are shaken.
But if aught thou canst do, seeing thou, as I, art of sleep forsaken,
Come with me, and let us go down to the watchmen, and so shall we see
If haply with toil outworn and with drowsihead they be,
That they slumber and wholly forget their charge of the watch of the night,
While foemen be camping anigh them, and nowise know we aright
Whether or no they be fain to come forth through the darkness to fight.”
And Nestor Gerenia’s horseman to him made answer then:
“Agamemnon Atreides, glory-preéminent King of Men,
Of a surety for Hector the Counsel-father shall not bring about
All things he deviseth, all dreams that he dreameth perchance, but I doubt
He shall have more trouble and anguish than ever before, if at last
The heart of Achilles shall turn, and his anger be overpast.
But with thee will I verily go, and the rest will we waken from sleep,
Tydeides the spear-renowned, and Odysseus of counsels deep,
And Aias the swift, and Phyleus’ scion the battle-fain.
But I would that some one would go moreover, and call these twain,
Even Aias the god-strong wight and Idomeneus king of Crete;
For nowise anigh be their ships, but the uttermost part of the fleet.
But, how worship-worthy soever and dear Menelaus be,
I will chide him, yea, though thou be wroth, I will hide it not from thee,
For that yet he is sleeping, and leaveth the toil unto thee alone:
Now ought he to toil, and to go unto every mightiest one
Supplicating; for now is there come on us need overmastering.”
Unto him Agamemnon made answer, and spake the war-folk’s king:
“Old sire, otherwhiles shalt thou chide him—I bid thee with all mine heart,
For that oft is he slack of hand, and is loth to play his part,
Not for that he yieldeth to sloth or to folly in any wise;
But ever to me-ward he looketh, and waiteth for me to arise.
But to-night hath he wakened before me, and came and stood by my head.
Even him, to bid hither the heroes for whom thou hast asked, have I sped.
Come, let us go: as for them, we shall find them in front of the gate
With the watchmen, for thus did I bid them thy coming and mine to await.”
Unto him did Nestor Gerenia’s chariot-champion say:
“Now therefore no Argive with him shall be wroth, nor disobey
When hereafter he rouseth the battle and calleth them on to the fray.”
So did he speak, and he cast his tunic his breast around,
And under his glistening feet his beautiful sandals he bound,
And around him he buckled a mantle whose crimson flame-like shone,
Two-folded and wide, and the thick soft fur lay deep thereon.
Then grasped he his massy spear keen-pointed with stubborn brass,
And unto the brazen-harnessed Achaians’ ships did he pass.
Then first came they to Odysseus, Zeus’s counsel-peer;
And the hero was wakened from sleep by Nestor’s voice in his ear;
By Gerenia’s horseman the slumber-veil from his soul was rent;
And he came and he spake to the twain, forth-stepping in front of his tent:
“For what cause thus to my galleys alone through the host do ye roam
Through the balmy night? What grievous need on the heroes is come?”
Made answer to him Gerenian Nestor, the lord of the steed:
“O Zeus and Laertes’ son, Odysseus shiftful at need,
Be not indignant, for sore is Achaia’s trouble to-night.
But come, that we waken another for whom it is meet and right
To be joined with us in our counsel whether to flee or to fight.”
So spake he, and back to his tent did Odysseus the shiftful stride,
And he cast on his shoulders his rich-wrought buckler, and after them hied.
So they passed unto Tydeus’ son Diomedes, and him they found
Without his tent in his war-gear arrayed, and his comrades around
Lay sleeping; beneath their heads were their bucklers, and each man’s lance
Was set upright on the spike, and afar did the brass-gleam glance
Like the lightning of Zeus. And the hero lay on a warrior’s bed,
For beneath him was naught but the hide of a lealand ox outspread,
But a bright-dyed rug was folded beneath the chieftain’s head.
And Gerenia’s horseman Nestor stood by him, and smote him awake,
With a thrust of his foot he moved him, and roused him, and chiding he spake:
“Wake, Tydeus’ son, through the livelong night why sleepest thou?
Hast thou not heard how the Trojans be camped on the plain’s high brow
Full nigh to the galleys, how scant is the space that divideth us now?”
He spake: from his sleep Tydeides full lightly hath leapt forthright;
And he uttered his voice unto him, and he sped the winged word-flight:
“Tough-moulded art thou, old sire: all resting from toil dost thou scorn.
What, are there no Achaians beside thee younger-born
Who might waken from slumber the kings, as they passed through the host to and fro?
But for thee, grey father, no man may deal with thee, I trow!”
Unto him made answer Nestor, Gerenia’s chariot-lord:
“Yea, fitly and well, my son, hast thou spoken every word.
Sooth, I have goodly sons, I have warfolk withal not a few;
And of these might one go forth our summoning to do:
But heaviest need hath constrained the Achaians hereunto:
For now the decision is set as it were on a razor’s edge
For all the Achaians, or bitter destruction or life’s sure pledge.
But go now, rouse up Aias the swift and Phyleus’ son,—
If thou hast such compassion on me,—for that thou art the younger one.”
Then he cast on his shoulders the hide of a lion of flamelike mane,
So huge that it reached to his feet, and his spear in his hand hath he ta’en.
And he hied him away, and he roused and brought those heroes twain.
So when these were met in the place where the troop of the warders lay,
The chiefs of the warders in no wise sleeping there found they,
But every man awake as they sat in their war-array.
And as dogs keep painful watch in a fold about the sheep
As they hearken a mighty beast, which adown from the mountain-steep
Through the forest is coming, and riseth against him a loud outcry
Of men and of dogs, and gone is their sleep from them utterly;
Even so from the eyelids of these was sweet sleep utterly gone,
As they watched through the evil night, for that ever and anon
Plainward they turned them, to hark if the Trojans would haply set on.
And the old king looked upon these, and his spirit was gladness-stirred,
And the winged speech leapt from his lips, and he spake a heartening word:
“Still thus keep watch, dear sons, let slumber on no man seize,
Lest we haply be made a triumph-glee to our enemies.”
So spake he, and over the trench he sprang, and behind him sped
The kings of the Argives, the chiefs that were called to the council-stead.
And with them went Nestor’s glorious son and Mériones,
Forasmuch as the rest to the council of princes had summoned these.
And when they had crossed the deep-delved trench, they sat them down
In a space where the earth showed clear mid the corpses thickly-strown
Of the men which were falling when thunderbolt Hector turned him aback
From slaying the Argives, when night’s veil fell on the battle-wrack.
There sat they down, and began forthright their counsel to take:
And Gerenia’s chariot-champion arose, and Nestor spake:
“Friends, is there none of you hath in his own heart dauntless-bold
Such trust as to go forth hence to the Trojans haughty-souled,
If he haply might catch any laggard that spoiling loitereth,
Or might hear peradventure amidst of their host a rumour’s breath
Of all that they counsel together, whether they fiercely yearn
Here to remain by our galleys afar from their town, or return
Cityward, since they have thus overborne the Achaian men?
Even all these things might he learn, and might win unto us again
Scatheless: great should his glory be then wide under the heaven
Among all earth-folk, and a goodly gift unto him should be given.
For of all the chieftains that rule mid the galleys, both most and least,
Shall every man of them give unto him a ewe black-fleeced,
With her yeanling lamb, for of all possessions is this the best;
And at banquets and fellowship-feasts shall he still be the chiefest guest.”
So spake he, and awed into silence was every man that heard,
Till lord Diomedes the battle-helper spake the word:
“Nestor, me doth mine heart prick on, and my courage is high
To enter the host of the Trojans, the foes that abide so nigh.
But if peradventure another with me on the quest would fare,
More should our comfort be then, and stouter of heart we were.
And if two be together, one haply discerneth before his friend
That which is best; and alone though the keen glance comprehend,
Yet the wit-shaft is shorter of flight, the purpose shall lightlier bend.”
He spake, and full many to go with the lord Diomedes were fain:
The Aiantes were fain thereof, the War-god’s henchmen twain,
And Mériones, and full eager the son of Nestor was found,
And fain was Atreus’ son, Menelaus the spear-renowned;
And eager to enter the host of the foes was the steadfast-souled,
Even Odysseus, for ever his spirit was dauntless-bold.
But arose Agamemnon the King of Men, and thus spake he:
“Diomedes, Tydeus’ son, most dear to the heart of me,
Choose thou for thy fellow even as seemeth good in thine eyes,
Even the best for thine helping—thou seest how many arise;—
Neither have thou respect unto persons, to leave who is best for the deed
And by reason of shamefastness to take who shall fail thee at need,
Looking unto his lineage,—not though he be of the kinglier seed.”
So spake he, fearing for bright-haired Menelaus’ sake.
And to them Diomedes the battle-helper answered and spake:
If indeed I shall choose my companion, according to this your word,
How shall I then forget Odysseus the godlike lord?
Full eager his heart is ever, and high doth his courage swell
In all manner of toils, and Pallas Athéné loveth him well.
If he shall go with me, even from the midst of flame fierce-burning
Will we both win back, for that matchless he is in keen-discerning.”
Answered and spake Odysseus the godlike, the man toil-tried:
“Tydeides, praise not me overmeasure, nor yet do thou chide;
For thou speakest to them that know, to the Argive chieftain-band.
Come, let us go: far spent is the night, and the dawn is at hand,
And the stars have sloped to the west; of the tide of the night there be gone
Two watches by this, and now remaineth the third alone.”
So did they speak, and their terrible battle-gear did they don.
Thrasymédes the battle-bider gave unto Tydeus’ son
A two-edged sword, for his own had he left by his black ship’s side,
And a shield; and he set on his head a morion of tough bull-hide;
Coneless and crestless it was, which menfolk wont to call
The skull-cap—it wardeth the heads of young men stalwart and tall.
And Mériones to Odysseus a bow and a quiver brought,
And a sword; and the hero set on his head a helmet wrought
Of hide, and with many a thong within was it firmly braced,
And without it the ivory-gleaming tusks of a boar were placed.
Closely on this side and that were they set in a grinning row,
Well and craftsmanly wrought, and within was a cushion of felt for the brow
It was stolen from Eleon the town of Amyntor Ormenus’ child;
For Autolykus brake through the wall of his palace stately-piled.
To Kythéran Amphidamas gave he the prize to Skandeia to bear:
And to Molus Amphidamas gave it, a guest-gift rich and rare,
And to Mériones did he give it, a battle-fence for his son.
Now darkly it claspeth the head of Odysseus, set thereon.
So when in their terrible harness of battle arrayed they were,
Forth went they, and left behind them all the chieftains there.
And to rightward did Pallas Athéné send, to their path full nigh,
A heron beside them flying: they saw it not with the eye
Through the mirk of the black dark night, howbeit they heard its cry.
And Odysseus was glad for the omen, and thus to Athéné he prayed:
“Hear, child of the Aegis-father, who comest still to mine aid
In all my manifold toils, and whithersoever I wend
I ’scape not thine eye: Athéné, be now if ever my friend,
And vouchsafe us to win to the galleys with goodly renown once more,
Having compassed a mighty deed that shall vex the Trojans sore.”
Then prayed Diomedes the battle-stay to the power unseen:
“Hearken to me too, Daughter of Zeus, unwearied Queen!
Go with me, as once thou wentest with Tydeus my father, then
When he fared unto Thebes, when the message he bare of Achaia’s men.
The battle-harnessed Achaians he left by Asópus’ side,
But himself with a word of peace to the folk Kadmeian hied.
But terrible deeds he wrought as backward he wended again,
By thine help, Goddess divine, for thou stoodst by his side full fain.
Even so of thy gracious will stand by me and guard me now;
And so will I offer to thee a broad-browed yearling cow,
Unbroken, which no man ever beneath the yoke hath led;
Even this will I offer to thee, and the horns shall be gold-overspread.”
So spake they praying, and Pallas Athéné heard their cry.
So when they had put up their prayer to the daughter of Zeus most high,
They fared on their way through the mirk of the night like lions twain,
Over slaughter, o’er corpses, midst armour and dark-clotted blood of the slain,
But Hector in no wise suffered the Trojans in sleep to rest,
But he gathered together in one place all their mightiest,
Even all the battle-chieftains and lords of the Trojan folk:
And unto their gathered array of his deep dark counsel he spoke:
“Who is there will promise and bring to pass this deed for me
For a goodly gift?—-yea surely unstinted his guerdon shall be:
I will give him a chariot and war-steeds twain with high-arched crest;
Of all mid Achaia’s sea-swift ships shall they be the best;
Whosoever shall dare this deed, and the high renown shall earn,
Even this—to adventure anigh to the ships fleet-faring, and learn
Whether the sea-swift galleys be guarded even as before,
Or whether the foe by the might of our hands overborne in the war
One with another take counsel of flight, and be nowise fain
Of the night-watch, with toil outworn and the terrible battle-strain.”
So spake he, and hushed for a space were they all, and answered him none.
Now amidst of the Trojans was found one Dolon, Eumédes’ son,
Son of the herald divine, right wealthy in gold and in brass;
Ill-favoured he was to behold, howbeit fleet-footed he was:
And the man was an only son with sisters five beside.
So there in the midst of the Trojans to Hector the captain he cried:
“Hector, mine heart hath upstirred me, my spirit within me doth burn
To go to the ships fleet-faring the tale of the night to learn.
But come now, uplift me thy sceptre, and swear unto me this night
That thou surely wilt give me the steeds and the chariot with brass rich-dight
Which be wont to bear the princely Peleus’ son to the fight.
No bootless scout will I be unto thee, nor thine hope will I cheat:
I will press right on through the midst of their host, till I come to the fleet,
To the galley of King Agamemnon, for there their chiefest shall be,
I ween, to take counsel together, whether to fight or to flee.”
Then Hector took sceptre in hand, and he sware that solemn vow:
“Let Zeus, loud-thundering lord of Héré, be witness now,
That none other Trojan beside thee behind those steeds shall ride,
But thine evermore shall they be, I say it, thy joy and thy pride.”
But he sware him a bootless oath, yet he kindled his spirit so.
Forthright on his shoulders hath Dolon slung his bended bow;
And without his raiment he folded around him a grey wolf’s skin;
On his head was a ferret-fur cap, in his hand was a javelin keen.
Then he turned him to go from the host to the ships; but it was not his doom
Again from the ships to return, and with tidings to Hector to come.
Now so soon as he left behind him the throng of the horses and men,
Fast sped he along the path: but ware of his coming then
Was Odysseus: to lord Diomedes straight did the Zeus-born say:
“Diomedes, yonder there cometh one of the foes’ array.
I know not whether to spy on the ships he hath hitherward hied,
Or to spoil of its armour the body of one of the dead which have died.
Now suffer we first that he pass us a little way on the plain:
If thereafter we rush on his track shall we swiftly o’ertake him again.
But and if peradventure the wight shall outrun us by speed of his feet,
Leaping on with the spear shalt thou head him still from the host to the fleet,
Lest haply citywards fleeing our expectation he cheat.”
Then turned they aside from the path, and mid corpses adown did they lie;
And he in his heedlessness swift-running onward hath passed them by.
But when he was gotten as far as the length of the furrow-space
Of mules outstripping oxen—for swifter they be of their pace
In dragging the jointed plough through the deep-soiled fallow-land,—
Then ran they upon him, and hearing the foot-beat awhile did he stand:
For he deemed they were comrades sent from the host of Troy on his track
At Hector’s counter-command from the quest to turn him aback.
But when they were drawn so nigh—yea, nigher than javelin-cast,
He knew them for foemen, and bent his swift knees hurrying fast
To escape them, and they in the chase their strong feet fiercely strained.
And as when two sharp-fanged hounds in the hunting craft well-trained
Follow hard on a doe or a hare with tireless speed evermore
Through the tangled ways of the woodland, and screaming it fleeth before,
So Tydeus’ son and Odysseus the war-burg-waster ever
Unswerving pursued, and the fleer still from his folk did they sever.
But when in a little more on the watchmen Dolon would light,
As he fled to the ships, into Tydeus’ son was sudden might
Breathed of Athéné, that none of Achaia’s brass-mailed host
Might boast to have smitten him first, and the hero’s glory be lost.
Leaping on with the lance then cried Diomedes the strong to the fleer:
“Stand ho! or my javelin shall reach thee: I tell thee, if leapeth the spear
From mine hand, not long shalt thou ’scape from destruction sudden-sheer!”:
He spake, and he hurled with the lance, but of purpose he missed the wight:
And the point of the fair-polished spear flew over his shoulder to right,
And into the earth it plunged; and he halted sore afraid,
Trembling,—the while of his teeth a chattering sound was made,—
White with his fear; and the twain hard-panting sprang to his side,
And they gripped his hands; and the wretch brake forth into weeping, and cried
O take me alive: I will ransom myself, for at home have I store
Of brass and of gold, and of iron the toil-born child of the ore;
And my father would lavish of these, he would nowise count the cost
If he heard that alive I lay mid the ships of the Danaan host.”
And Odysseus the manifold-counselled answereth him, and he saith:
‘Be thou of good cheer, let thy spirit be nowise o’ershadowed of death.
But come now, answer me this, and the truth unswerving declare:
Unto what end thus from the host of Troy to the ships dost thou fare
Through the black dark night, when sleep all other mortals beside?
Is it so, that thou comest to spoil some one of the dead which have died?
Or did Hector send thee forth for to spy upon whatso is done
By the hollow ships? or was it thine own soul pricked thee on?”
Sore trembled the limbs of Dolon beneath him, and thus did he say:
“With many a mad hope Hector led my mind astray,
Who pledged him to give me the thunderfoot horses that bear to the fight
Peleus’ son, and his chariot with brass-work richly dight.
Through the mirk of the black night swiftly-fleeting he bade me to go
Even till I came to the host of Achaia, and there to know
Whether the sea-swift galleys be guarded like as before,
Or whether the foe by the might of our hands overborne in the war
One with another take counsel or flight, and be nowise fain
Of the night-watch, with toil outworn and the terrible battle-strain.’
Smiled on him Odysseus the manifold-counselled, and made reply:
“Of a surety thine heart was set on a gift both great and high,
The horses of Aiakus’ scion the war-wise; hard they are
For a mortal to tame their fury, or drive in the battle-car,
Save for Achilles alone, whom a deathless mother bare.
But come now, answer me this, and the truth unswerving declare:
Where leftest thou Hector the shepherd of folk when thou hither didst fare?
And where is his harness of battle lying?—his horses where?
And what of the rest of the Trojans?—or watch they or slumber they?
And what is the counsel they take?—are they furious-fain to stay
Here by our galleys afar from their town, or to turn again
Cityward, since they have overborne the Achaian men?”
Answered him Dolon the son of Eumédes, and thus spake he:
“Therefore herein will I tell the truth unswerving to thee
Hector this night and the princes, the wise in counselling,
By the barrow of Ilus the godlike be met in the council-ring,
From the tumult afar, but for this that thou askest as touching the guard,
There is none set apart from the host to keep it with watch and ward.
For at all the bivouac-fires that the Trojans perforce must light
There waking they sit, and they cheer one another to watch through the night.
Howbeit the while the men of their war-aid battle-renowned
Have left to the Trojans to watch, but themselves lie slumber-drowned,
For that nowise anigh unto these be their wives and their children found.”
Then Odysseus the manifold-counselled answered the captive foe:
“How then?—intermingled with horse-quelling Trojans slumber they so,
Or aloof do they lie?—render answer to me, to the end I may know.”
Answered him Dolon the son of Eumédes, and thus spake he:
“Therefore herein will I tell the truth unswerving to thee.
By the sea be the Karian folk, and Paionia’s bowmen, then
The Lelegan host and the Kaukons and godlike Pelasgian men,
And by Thymbré the Lycians and Mysians stately-charioted,
And the Phrygian steeds, and the car-borne host from Maionia led.
—But of these things one by one what boots it thus to enquire?
For if of a truth to enter the Trojan throng ye desire,
Lo yonder the new-come Thracians aloof, even outermost,
With the scion of Eioneus, King Rhesus, amidst of their host.
He hath horses the fairest and greatest that ever my hap was to see,
Whiter than snow, and in speed as the blasts of the wind they be.
And cunningly-dight is his battle-chariot with silver and gold;
And with war-gear golden, gigantic, a wondrous thing to behold,
He hath come: for the wearing of deathling men it seemeth not
Fashioned, but rather it seemeth for Gods everlasting wrought.
But now do ye bring me hence to your sea-swift ships on the strand,
Or bind me and leave me here fast-fettered in pitiless band,
That so, when again ye return unto me, my words may be tried,
Whether this that I spake was truth, or whether my lips have lied.”
Spake Diomedes the strong with terribly-glaring eyes:
“Dolon, think not in thine heart to escape us in any wise,
For all thy tidings of good, forasmuch as our captive thou art;
For if we shall hold thee to ransom now, or shall let thee depart,
To Achaia’s sea-swift ships wouldst thou surely return again,
Either to play the spy, or to strive in the battle-strain.
But and if thou shalt lose thy life by mine hands’ death-dealing stroke,
Never thereafter wilt thou be a grief to the Argive folk.”
He spake, and that other to make supplication outstretched his hand
To his beard,—but he leapt on him, smote mid-neck with his battle-brand;
Clear through the sinews twain hath it flashed with its lightning sweep,
And rolled was his head in the dust as the prayer yet moaned on his lip,
Then did they take the helmet of ferret-fur wrought from his head,
And the wolf-skin and back-springing bow, and the long lance-shaft of the dead.
Then did Odysseus the godlike upraise to the Giver of Prey,
Even Athéné, the spoils, and thus in his prayer did he say:
“Goddess, I hail thee with these, for on thee most chiefly of all
The Deathless Ones in the height of Olympus that dwell will we call.
Now grant furthermore that on Thracia’s horses and men we may fall.”
So did he speak, and therewith he uplifted and set them on high
On a tamarisk-bush, and a plain-seen token he set thereby;
For he gathered a handful of reeds and of thick-grown tamarisk-sprays,
Lest they haply in darkness should miss it, returning by night-shadowed ways.
Then onward mid arms of the dead and mid blood dark-clotted they passed,
Until to the host of the Thracian men they came at the last.
There toil-over worn were they sleeping, and fair did the brazen gleam
Of the armour in three rows orderly ranked from the dark earth stream.
And beside each chieftain were tethered the steeds of his chariot-team.
And Rhesus amidst of his men lay sleeping, and hard by him
Were his fleet steeds bound with thongs to the end of the chariot-rim.
And Odysseus espied him, and showed, as his fellow forthright he addressed:
“Lo, this is the man, Diomedes, and these be the steeds of our quest,
Which Dolon foretold unto us, the captive we slew but now.
Come then, and thy battle-might put thou forth: thou oughtest not, thou,
Idly to stand with thy weapons: the steeds from the car do thou lead,
Or fall thou to slaying the men, and I to the steeds will give heed.”
Then breathed Athéné the grey-eyed might into Tydeus’ son;
And on this side and that side he slew, and ever the ghastly groan
Arose from the falchion-hewn, and with blood was the earth stained red.
And even as a lion that cometh on flocks unshepherded,
On goats or on sheep, rusheth on them with fearful and fell intent,
Even so against Thracia’s men the son of Tydeus went,
Until he had slain of them twelve: and Odysseus the counsel-stored,—
Unto whomso Tydeides drew nigh and smote with the edge of the sword,
Odysseus came after, and dragged aside by the foot the slain,
Purposing thus in his soul, that the steeds of the beautiful mane
Lightly between them might pass, neither start in affrighted mood
As they trod on the corpses, for strange were they yet unto murder and blood.
But when came Tydeides at last to the king, he reft away
Sweet life from the thirteenth foe, as heavily breathing he lay,
For that over his head did an awful nightmare-vision rise
That night, even Oineus’ seed, by Pallas Athéné’s device.
But the thunderfoot horses the while Odysseus the steadfast-brave
Loosed, and with thongs he bound them together, and forth he drave
From the press with strokes of his bow, forasmuch as he had not thought
To take the glittering whip from the chariot cunningly wrought.
Then he whistled to Diomedes the godlike the signal-call.
But he tarried, and mused what deed he should do most daring of all;
Whether to take the car where the rich-wrought armour lay,
And to drag it thence by the pole, or uplift it and bear it away,
Or whether to slay yet more of the children of Thracia-land.
And as thus in his spirit he mused, by his side did Athéné stand,
And she stayed Diomedes the godlike, and spake to the overbold:
“Take thought for returning, thou son of Tydeus the mighty-souled,
Unto the hollow ships, lest thou even come thither in flight.
Have a care lest another God awaken the Trojans this night.”
So did she speak, forthright to the Goddess he gave good heed.
He hath mounted in haste, with his bow hath Odysseus lashed them to speed;
Then flew to Achaia’s sea-swift ships each gallant steed.
Yet no blind watch was kept of Apollo Silverbow,
When he marked how Athéné cared for the son of Tydeus so.
Wrathful against her he entered the host of the Trojan folk,
And Hippokoon, counsellor-chief of the Thracians, from slumber he woke,
The high-born kinsman of Rhesus. From sleep he upstarted, and lo,
Void was the place where the fleet steeds stood but a little ago;
And men lay gasping on earth with slaughter ghastly-dyed:
And he shrieked, and aloud on the name of his dear-loved friend he cried.
And a cry from the Trojans and tumult unspeakable rose thereupon,
As they rushed to the place, and stared at the deeds of horror done,
While the heroes that wrought them afar to their hollow galleys were gone.
But so soon as they came unto where they had smitten Hector’s spy,
Odysseus the Zeus-loved stayed the fleetfoot steeds thereby;
And Tydeides leapt to the ground, and the blood-stained spoils of the slain
He gave to Odysseus’ hands, and he hasted and mounted again.
And he lashed those coursers fleet, and with eager speed they flew
To the hollow ships—yea, fain was their spirit so to do.
And Nestor cried, for that first he heard that far hoof-stroke:
O friends, ye lords of the Argives, and chiefs of battle-folk,
False shall my word be or true?—yet my spirit is bidding me speak:—
Lo, on mine ears doth the thud of the trampling of swift steeds break.
O might it but be, that Odysseus and prince Diomedes the strong
Thus swiftly come driving the thunderfoot steeds from the Trojan throng!
But sorely mine heart is adread lest mischief hath come in their quest
From the battle-onset of Troy to the Argive bravest and best.”
Not yet was the word full-spoken, when lo, they were come, even they.
And down to the earth they sprang, and the men of Achaia’s array
With hand-clasp joyfully greeted the heroes, and loving word;
And Nestor questioned them first, Gerenia’s chariot-lord:
“Come tell me, O glorious Odysseus, Achaia’s mighty boast,
In what wise did ye win these steeds?—did ye enter the Trojan host?
Or was it a God that gave them, who met you this night by the way?
Wondrous like to the rays of the sun’s white splendour are they!
Evermore do I plunge mid the fight with the Trojans: ye never shall say
That ye found by the galleys abiding Gerenia’s warrior grey:
But never such horses as these have I seen, nor have known ere now.
Nay, but a God hath met you, and given you these, I trow:
For dear are ye both unto Zeus the Cloudrack-driver, I ween,
And the child of the Aegis-lord, Athéné the grey-eyed Queen.”
Made answer Odysseus to him, and the manifold-counselled spoke
“O Nestor Neleus’ son, thou praise of Achaia’s folk,
Goodlier horses than these might a God’s gift lightly be,
If such were his will, for the Gods be mighter far than we.
But as touching the steeds whereof thou enquirest, ancient, they came
But of late from the land of Thrace, and slain is the lord of the same
By brave Diomedes, and twelve beside him, his mightiest, lie.
And the thirteenth man anigh to the galleys we slew, a spy
Whom Hector the chief and the rest of the lordly Trojans sent
To know of the state of the host, and to search out our intent.”
Then the thunderfoot horses he drave with laughter of triumph-glee
Over the trench, and the heroes followed exultingly.
So when they were come to Tydeides’ pavilion stately and fair,
Those horses with thongs of hide well-fashioned tethered they there
Unto the manger whereat Diomedes war-steeds fleet
Were standing arow, and were eating the honey-savoured wheat.
But the blood-bespattered spoils of Dolon Odysseus laid
In the stern of his ship, till his vow to Athéné the Queen should be paid.
Then the heroes plunged in the sea, and the sweat of their labour they washed
From ankle, from neck, and from thigh with the slaughter-stains dark-splashed.
And so soon as the sea-wave had cleansed the abundant sweat from their skin,
The while by its clear cool dash their hearts were refreshed within,
Into the burnished lavers they stepped, till the pain of their toil
Melted away, and thereafter anointed their bodies with oil.
Then sat they down to the supper, and drew from the brimming bowl
And poured to Athéné the wine that as honey is sweet to the soul.