ODYSSEUS.
Diomede, hist!—A little sound of arms
1
565
Clanking . . . or am I full of void alarms?
DIOMEDE.
No. ’Tis some horse tied to the chariot rail
That clanks his chain.—My heart began to fail
A moment, till I heard the horse’s champ.
They steal on further, keeping in the shadow.
ODYSSEUS.
Mind—in that shade—the watchers of the camp.
570
DIOMEDE.
I keep in shadow, but I am staring hard.
ODYSSEUS.
Thou know’st the watchword, if we stir some guard?
DIOMEDE.
Phoebus. ’Twas the last sign that Dolon gave.
They creep forward in silence to the entrance of HECTOR’S tent.
ODYSSEUS.
Now, forward!
They dash into the tent, swords drawn; then return.
God! All empty as the grave!
DIOMEDE.
Yet Dolon told us Hector’s couch was made
575
Just here. For none but him I drew this blade.
ODYSSEUS.
What means it? To some ambush is he gone?
DIOMEDE.
Maybe, to work some craft on us at dawn.
ODYSSEUS.
He is hot with courage when he is winning, hot.
DIOMEDE.
What must we do, Odysseus?—He was not
580
Laid where we thought him, and our hopes are lost.
ODYSSEUS.
Back to our own ship-rampart at all cost!
The God who gave him victory saves him still.
We cannot force Fortune against her will.
DIOMEDE.
Could we not find Aeneas? Or the bed
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Of Paris the accurst, and have his head?
ODYSSEUS.
Go by night searching through these lines of men
For chiefs to kill? ’Twere death and death again.
DIOMEDE.
But to go empty back—what shame ’twill be!—
And not one blow struck home at the enemy!
590
ODYSSEUS.
How not one blow? Did we not baulk and kill
Dolon, their spy, and bear his tokens still?
Dost think the whole camp should be thine to quell?
DIOMEDE takes DOLON’S wolf-mask off his belt and hangs it in HECTOR’S tent, then turns.
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DIOMEDE.
Good. Now for home! And may the end be well!
Rhesus. Euripides. Gilbert Murray (Translator). London. 1913.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.