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Thus pray the chiefs, and Pallas hears their prayer; Then, like two lions through the fhades of night, Dauntless they ftride along; and hold their way Through blood, and mangled limbs, o'er arms and death.

*Nor pafs they far, e'er the fagacious eye

Of Ithacus difcerns a diftant foe

Coafting from Troy, and thus to Diomed :

See! o'er the plain fome Trojan bends this way
Perhaps to spoil the flain! or to our hoft
Comes he a spy? Beyond us o'er the field
'Tis beft he pafs, then fudden from behind
Rush we precipitant: but if in flight
His active feet prevail, thy fpear employ
To force him on our lines, left hid in fhades,
Through the dusk air he re-escape to Troy.

Then couching to the ground, ambufh'd they lay
Behind a hill of flain: onward the spy
Inceffant mov'd: He pafs'd, and now arose
The fierce purfuers. Dolon heard the found
Of trampling feet, and panting, liftening stood
Now reach'd the chiefs within a javelin's throw,
Stern foes of Dolon! fwift along the shores
He wing'd his flight, and swift along the fhores
They ftill pursued: as when two skilful hounds
Chace o'er the lawn the hare or bounding roe,
Still from the sheltering brake the game they turn,
Stretch every nerve, and bear upon the prey!

* V. 339

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So ran the chiefs, and from the host of Troy

Turn'd the swift for now nigh the fleet they flew,
Now almost mingled with the guards, when lo!
The martial goddess breath'd heroic flames
Fierce on Tydides' foul: the hero fear'd
Left fome bold Greek fhould interpofe a wound,
And ravish half the glories of the night.
Furious he fhook his lance, and, Stand, he cry'd,
Stand, or thou dyeft: then fternly from his arm
Launch'd the wild fpear; wilful the javelin err'd,
But whizzing o'er his fhoulder, deep in earth
Stood quivering, and he quaking ftop'd aghaft;
His teeth all chatter'd, and his flack knees knock'd;
He feem'd the bloodlefs image of pale fear.
Panting the fpy they feize: who thus with tears
Abject intreats: Spare me, O! fpare, he cries,
My hoary fire your mercy fhall repay,

Soon as he hears I draw the vital air

With ample wealth, with steel, with brass, with gold.

To whom Ulyffes artfully: Be bold:

Far hence the thought of death! but instant say
Why thus alone in the still hours of night
While every eye is clos'd? to fpoil the flain
Com'st thou rapacious? or fome nightly spy
By Hector fent? or has thy venturous mind
Impell'd thee to explore our martial bands?

By Hector fent, and by rewards undone,
Returns the spy, (ftill as he spoke he shook)
I come unwilling: the refulgent car

He

He promis'd, and immortal steeds that bear
To fight, the great Achilles: thus betray'd,
Through the dun fhades of night I bend my way
Unprofperous, to explore the tented hoft

Of adverfe Greece, and learn if now they stand
Wakeful on guard, or vanquish'd by our arms
Precipitant defert the fhores of Troy.

To whom with fmiles of fcorn the sage returns: Bold were thy aims, O youth! But thofe proud fteeds,

Reftive, disdain the rule of vulgar hands;

Scarce ev'n the goddefs-born, when the loud din
Of battle roars, fubdues them to the rein
Reluctant: But this night where Hector fleeps

Faithful difclofe: Where ftand the warrior's fteeds?
Where lie his arms and implements of war?
What guards are kept nocturnal? Say, what Troy
Now meditates? to pour the tide of fight

Fierce on our fleet, or back within her walls
Transfer the war?- -To thefe demands, he cries,
Faithful my tongue fhall speak: The peers of Troy
Hector in council meets : round Ilus' tomb

Apart from noise they stand: no guards furround
The spacious hoft: where through the gloom yon fires
Blaze frequent, Trojans wake to guard their Troy;
Secure th' auxiliars fleep, no tender cares
Of wife or fon difturb their calm repofe,

Safe fleep their wives and fons on foreign shores.

But

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But fay, apart encamp th' auxiliar bands,
Replies the fage, or join the powers of Troy?

Along the fea-beat fhores, returns the spy,
The Leleges and Carians ftretch their files;
Near thefe the Caucons, and Pelafgian train,
And Poons, dreadful with the battle-bow,
Extended lie; on the Thymbrean plain
The Lycians and the Myfians in array
Spread their deep ranks: There the Mæonian bands,
And Phrygians, range the fiery steeds of war.
But why this nice enquiry? If your way
Venturous you bend to fearch the host of Troy,
There in yon outmost lines, a recent aid,
The Thracian's lie, by Rhefus led, whose steeds
Outshine the fnow, outfly the winged winds.
With glittering filver plates, and radiant gold
His chariot flames, gold forms his dazzling arms,
Arms that may grace a God !-but to your tents
Unhappy me convey; or bound with chains,
Faft bound with cruel chains, fad on the fhores
Here leave me captive, till you safe return,

And witness to the truth my tongue unfolds.

To whom ftern-frowning Diomed replies,
Though every fyllable be ftamp'd with truth,
Dolon, thou dy'ft: would't thou once more return
Darkling a spy, or wage, a nobler foe,

New war on Greece? Traytor, thou dy'ft, nor more
New war thou wageft, nor return'st a spy.

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He spoke terrific and as Dolon rais'd

Suppliant his humble hands, the trenchant blade
Sheer through his neck descends; the furious blow
Cleaves the tough nerves in twain, down drops the

head,

And mutters unintelligible founds.

Strait they defpoil the dead, the wolf's grey hide
They feize, the helm, the fpear, and battle-bow:
Thefe as they drop'd with gore, on high in air
Ulyffes rais'd, and to the Martial Maid
Thus lowly confecrates: Stern power of war,
Virgin armipotent, receive these arms,
Propitious to my vows, thee, goddess, thee
Chiefly I call: Direct our profperous way
To pierce the Thracian tents, to feize the steeds
Of Rhefus, and the car that flames with gold.

Then fierce o'er broken arms, through ftreams of

blood

They move along: now reach the Thraciam bands
All huff'd in fleep profound; their fhining arms
Rang'd in three ranks along the plain, around
Illumin'd the dun air: Chariot and horfe
By every Thracian flood: Rhefus their king
Slept in the center of the circling bands,
And his proud fteeds were rein'd behind his car.
With joy Ulyffes through the gloom defcry'd
The fleeping king, and lo! he cries, the fteeds,
Lo! Diomed, the chief of Thrace, this night
Defcrib'd by Dolon: Now, O! now, thy strength
Dauntless

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