Ulysses and Diomed go out as spies, and meet Dolon, who gives

      them information: they then kill him, and profiting by what he

      had told them, kill Rhesus king of the Thracians and take his

      horses.



      Now the other princes of the Achaeans slept soundly the whole

      night through, but Agamemnon son of Atreus was troubled, so that

      he could get no rest. As when fair Juno’s lord flashes his

      lightning in token of great rain or hail or snow when the

      snow-flakes whiten the ground, or again as a sign that he will

      open the wide jaws of hungry war, even so did Agamemnon heave

      many a heavy sigh, for his soul trembled within him. When he

      looked upon the plain of Troy he marvelled at the many watchfires

      burning in front of Ilius, and at the sound of pipes and flutes

      and of the hum of men, but when presently he turned towards the

      ships and hosts of the Achaeans, he tore his hair by handfuls

      before Jove on high, and groaned aloud for the very disquietness

      of his soul. In the end he deemed it best to go at once to Nestor

      son of Neleus, and see if between them they could find any way of

      the Achaeans from destruction. He therefore rose, put on his

      shirt, bound his sandals about his comely feet, flung the skin of

      a huge tawny lion over his shoulders—a skin that reached his

      feet—and took his spear in his hand.



      Neither could Menelaus sleep, for he, too, boded ill for the

      Argives who for his sake had sailed from far over the seas to

      fight the Trojans. He covered his broad back with the skin of a

      spotted panther, put a casque of bronze upon his head, and took

      his spear in his brawny hand. Then he went to rouse his brother,

      who was by far the most powerful of the Achaeans, and was

      honoured by the people as though he were a god. He found him by

      the stern of his ship already putting his goodly array about his

      shoulders, and right glad was he that his brother had come.



      Menelaus spoke first. “Why,” said he, “my dear brother, are you

      thus arming? Are you going to send any of our comrades to exploit

      the Trojans? I greatly fear that no one will do you this service,

      and spy upon the enemy alone in the dead of night. It will be a

      deed of great daring.”



      And King Agamemnon answered, “Menelaus, we both of us need shrewd

      counsel to save the Argives and our ships, for Jove has changed

      his mind, and inclines towards Hector’s sacrifices rather than

      ours. I never saw nor heard tell of any man as having wrought

      such ruin in one day as Hector has now wrought against the sons

      of the Achaeans—and that too of his own unaided self, for he is

      son neither to god nor goddess. The Argives will rue it long and

      deeply. Run, therefore, with all speed by the line of the ships,

      and call Ajax and Idomeneus. Meanwhile I will go to Nestor, and

      bid him rise and go about among the companies of our sentinels to

      give them their instructions; they will listen to him sooner than

      to any man, for his own son, and Meriones brother in arms to

      Idomeneus, are captains over them. It was to them more

      particularly that we gave this charge.”



      Menelaus replied, “How do I take your meaning? Am I to stay with

      them and wait your coming, or shall I return here as soon as I

      have given your orders?” “Wait,” answered King Agamemnon, “for

      there are so many paths about the camp that we might miss one

      another. Call every man on your way, and bid him be stirring;

      name him by his lineage and by his father’s name, give each all

      titular observance, and stand not too much upon your own dignity;

      we must take our full share of toil, for at our birth Jove laid

      this heavy burden upon us.”



      With these instructions he sent his brother on his way, and went

      on to Nestor shepherd of his people. He found him sleeping in his

      tent hard by his own ship; his goodly armour lay beside him—his

      shield, his two spears and his helmet; beside him also lay the

      gleaming girdle with which the old man girded himself when he

      armed to lead his people into battle—for his age stayed him not.

      He raised himself on his elbow and looked up at Agamemnon. “Who

      is it,” said he, “that goes thus about the host and the ships

      alone and in the dead of night, when men are sleeping? Are you

      looking for one of your mules or for some comrade? Do not stand

      there and say nothing, but speak. What is your business?”



      And Agamemnon answered, “Nestor, son of Neleus, honour to the

      Achaean name, it is I, Agamemnon son of Atreus, on whom Jove has

      laid labour and sorrow so long as there is breath in my body and

      my limbs carry me. I am thus abroad because sleep sits not upon

      my eyelids, but my heart is big with war and with the jeopardy of

      the Achaeans. I am in great fear for the Danaans. I am at sea,

      and without sure counsel; my heart beats as though it would leap

      out of my body, and my limbs fail me. If then you can do

      anything—for you too cannot sleep—let us go the round of the

      watch, and see whether they are drowsy with toil and sleeping to

      the neglect of their duty. The enemy is encamped hard and we know

      not but he may attack us by night.”



      Nestor replied, “Most noble son of Atreus, king of men,

      Agamemnon, Jove will not do all for Hector that Hector thinks he

      will; he will have troubles yet in plenty if Achilles will lay

      aside his anger. I will go with you, and we will rouse others,

      either the son of Tydeus, or Ulysses, or fleet Ajax and the

      valiant son of Phyleus. Some one had also better go and call Ajax

      and King Idomeneus, for their ships are not near at hand but the

      farthest of all. I cannot however refrain from blaming Menelaus,

      much as I love him and respect him—and I will say so plainly,

      even at the risk of offending you—for sleeping and leaving all

      this trouble to yourself. He ought to be going about imploring

      aid from all the princes of the Achaeans, for we are in extreme

      danger.”



      And Agamemnon answered, “Sir, you may sometimes blame him justly,

      for he is often remiss and unwilling to exert himself—not indeed

      from sloth, nor yet heedlessness, but because he looks to me and

      expects me to take the lead. On this occasion, however, he was

      awake before I was, and came to me of his own accord. I have

      already sent him to call the very men whom you have named. And

      now let us be going. We shall find them with the watch outside

      the gates, for it was there I said that we would meet them.”



      “In that case,” answered Nestor, “the Argives will not blame him

      nor disobey his orders when he urges them to fight or gives them

      instructions.”



      With this he put on his shirt, and bound his sandals about his

      comely feet. He buckled on his purple coat, of two thicknesses,

      large, and of a rough shaggy texture, grasped his redoubtable

      bronze-shod spear, and wended his way along the line of the

      Achaean ships. First he called loudly to Ulysses peer of gods in

      counsel and woke him, for he was soon roused by the sound of the

      battle-cry. He came outside his tent and said, “Why do you go

      thus alone about the host, and along the line of the ships in the

      stillness of the night? What is it that you find so urgent?” And

      Nestor knight of Gerene answered, “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes,

      take it not amiss, for the Achaeans are in great straits. Come

      with me and let us wake some other, who may advise well with us

      whether we shall fight or fly.”



      On this Ulysses went at once into his tent, put his shield about

      his shoulders and came out with them. First they went to Diomed

      son of Tydeus, and found him outside his tent clad in his armour

      with his comrades sleeping round him and using their shields as

      pillows; as for their spears, they stood upright on the spikes of

      their butts that were driven into the ground, and the burnished

      bronze flashed afar like the lightning of father Jove. The hero

      was sleeping upon the skin of an ox, with a piece of fine carpet

      under his head; Nestor went up to him and stirred him with his

      heel to rouse him, upbraiding him and urging him to bestir

      himself. “Wake up,” he exclaimed, “son of Tydeus. How can you

      sleep on in this way? Can you not see that the Trojans are

      encamped on the brow of the plain hard by our ships, with but a

      little space between us and them?”



      On these words Diomed leaped up instantly and said, “Old man,

      your heart is of iron; you rest not one moment from your labours.

      Are there no younger men among the Achaeans who could go about to

      rouse the princes? There is no tiring you.”



      And Nestor knight of Gerene made answer, “My son, all that you

      have said is true. I have good sons, and also much people who

      might call the chieftains, but the Achaeans are in the gravest

      danger; life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a

      razor. Go then, for you are younger than I, and of your courtesy

      rouse Ajax and the fleet son of Phyleus.”



      Diomed threw the skin of a great tawny lion about his shoulders—a

      skin that reached his feet—and grasped his spear. When he had

      roused the heroes, he brought them back with him; they then went

      the round of those who were on guard, and found the captains not

      sleeping at their posts but wakeful and sitting with their arms

      about them. As sheep dogs that watch their flocks when they are

      yarded, and hear a wild beast coming through the mountain forest

      towards them—forthwith there is a hue and cry of dogs and men,

      and slumber is broken—even so was sleep chased from the eyes of

      the Achaeans as they kept the watches of the wicked night, for

      they turned constantly towards the plain whenever they heard any

      stir among the Trojans. The old man was glad and bade them be of

      good cheer. “Watch on, my children,” said he, “and let not sleep

      get hold upon you, lest our enemies triumph over us.”



      With this he passed the trench, and with him the other chiefs of

      the Achaeans who had been called to the council. Meriones and the

      brave son of Nestor went also, for the princes bade them. When

      they were beyond the trench that was dug round the wall they held

      their meeting on the open ground where there was a space clear of

      corpses, for it was here that when night fell Hector had turned

      back from his onslaught on the Argives. They sat down, therefore,

      and held debate with one another.



      Nestor spoke first. “My friends,” said he, “is there any man bold

      enough to venture among the Trojans, and cut off some straggler,

      or bring us news of what the enemy mean to do whether they will

      stay here by the ships away from the city, or whether, now that

      they have worsted the Achaeans, they will retire within their

      walls. If he could learn all this and come back safely here, his

      fame would be high as heaven in the mouths of all men, and he

      would be rewarded richly; for the chiefs from all our ships would

      each of them give him a black ewe with her lamb—which is a

      present of surpassing value—and he would be asked as a guest to

      all feasts and clan-gatherings.”



      They all held their peace, but Diomed of the loud war-cry spoke

      saying, “Nestor, gladly will I visit the host of the Trojans over

      against us, but if another will go with me I shall do so in

      greater confidence and comfort. When two men are together, one of

      them may see some opportunity which the other has not caught

      sight of; if a man is alone he is less full of resource, and his

      wit is weaker.”



      On this several offered to go with Diomed. The two Ajaxes,

      servants of Mars, Meriones, and the son of Nestor all wanted to

      go, so did Menelaus son of Atreus; Ulysses also wished to go

      among the host of the Trojans, for he was ever full of daring,

      and thereon Agamemnon king of men spoke thus: “Diomed,” said he,

      “son of Tydeus, man after my own heart, choose your comrade for

      yourself—take the best man of those that have offered, for many

      would now go with you. Do not through delicacy reject the better

      man, and take the worst out of respect for his lineage, because

      he is of more royal blood.”



      He said this because he feared for Menelaus. Diomed answered, “If

      you bid me take the man of my own choice, how in that case can I

      fail to think of Ulysses, than whom there is no man more eager to

      face all kinds of danger—and Pallas Minerva loves him well? If he

      were to go with me we should pass safely through fire itself, for

      he is quick to see and understand.”



      “Son of Tydeus,” replied Ulysses, “say neither good nor ill about

      me, for you are among Argives who know me well. Let us be going,

      for the night wanes and dawn is at hand. The stars have gone

      forward, two-thirds of the night are already spent, and the third

      is alone left us.”



      They then put on their armour. Brave Thrasymedes provided the son

      of Tydeus with a sword and a shield (for he had left his own at

      his ship) and on his head he set a helmet of bull’s hide without

      either peak or crest; it is called a skull-cap and is a common

      headgear. Meriones found a bow and quiver for Ulysses, and on his

      head he set a leathern helmet that was lined with a strong

      plaiting of leathern thongs, while on the outside it was thickly

      studded with boar’s teeth, well and skilfully set into it; next

      the head there was an inner lining of felt. This helmet had been

      stolen by Autolycus out of Eleon when he broke into the house of

      Amyntor son of Ormenus. He gave it to Amphidamas of Cythera to

      take to Scandea, and Amphidamas gave it as a guest-gift to Molus,

      who gave it to his son Meriones; and now it was set upon the head

      of Ulysses.



      When the pair had armed, they set out, and left the other

      chieftains behind them. Pallas Minerva sent them a heron by the

      wayside upon their right hands; they could not see it for the

      darkness, but they heard its cry. Ulysses was glad when he heard

      it and prayed to Minerva: “Hear me,” he cried, “daughter of

      aegis-bearing Jove, you who spy out all my ways and who are with

      me in all my hardships; befriend me in this mine hour, and grant

      that we may return to the ships covered with glory after having

      achieved some mighty exploit that shall bring sorrow to the

      Trojans.”



      Then Diomed of the loud war-cry also prayed: “Hear me too,” said

      he, “daughter of Jove, unweariable; be with me even as you were

      with my noble father Tydeus when he went to Thebes as envoy sent

      by the Achaeans. He left the Achaeans by the banks of the river

      Aesopus, and went to the city bearing a message of peace to the

      Cadmeians; on his return thence, with your help, goddess, he did

      great deeds of daring, for you were his ready helper. Even so

      guide me and guard me now, and in return I will offer you in

      sacrifice a broad-browed heifer of a year old, unbroken, and

      never yet brought by man under the yoke. I will gild her horns

      and will offer her up to you in sacrifice.”



      Thus they prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard their prayer. When

      they had done praying to the daughter of great Jove, they went

      their way like two lions prowling by night amid the armour and

      blood-stained bodies of them that had fallen.



      Neither again did Hector let the Trojans sleep; for he too called

      the princes and councillors of the Trojans that he might set his

      counsel before them. “Is there one,” said he, “who for a great

      reward will do me the service of which I will tell you? He shall

      be well paid if he will. I will give him a chariot and a couple

      of horses, the fleetest that can be found at the ships of the

      Achaeans, if he will dare this thing; and he will win infinite

      honour to boot; he must go to the ships and find out whether they

      are still guarded as heretofore, or whether now that we have

      beaten them the Achaeans design to fly, and through sheer

      exhaustion are neglecting to keep their watches.”



      They all held their peace; but there was among the Trojans a

      certain man named Dolon, son of Eumedes, the famous herald—a man

      rich in gold and bronze. He was ill-favoured, but a good runner,

      and was an only son among five sisters. He it was that now

      addressed the Trojans. “I, Hector,” said he, “Will to the ships

      and will exploit them. But first hold up your sceptre and swear

      that you will give me the chariot, bedight with bronze, and the

      horses that now carry the noble son of Peleus. I will make you a

      good scout, and will not fail you. I will go through the host

      from one end to the other till I come to the ship of Agamemnon,

      where I take it the princes of the Achaeans are now consulting

      whether they shall fight or fly.”



      When he had done speaking Hector held up his sceptre, and swore

      him his oath saying, “May Jove the thundering husband of Juno

      bear witness that no other Trojan but yourself shall mount those

      steeds, and that you shall have your will with them for ever.”



      The oath he swore was bootless, but it made Dolon more keen on

      going. He hung his bow over his shoulder, and as an overall he

      wore the skin of a grey wolf, while on his head he set a cap of

      ferret skin. Then he took a pointed javelin, and left the camp

      for the ships, but he was not to return with any news for Hector.

      When he had left the horses and the troops behind him, he made

      all speed on his way, but Ulysses perceived his coming and said

      to Diomed, “Diomed, here is some one from the camp; I am not sure

      whether he is a spy, or whether it is some thief who would

      plunder the bodies of the dead; let him get a little past us, we

      can then spring upon him and take him. If, however, he is too

      quick for us, go after him with your spear and hem him in towards

      the ships away from the Trojan camp, to prevent his getting back

      to the town.”



      With this they turned out of their way and lay down among the

      corpses. Dolon suspected nothing and soon passed them, but when

      he had got about as far as the distance by which a mule-plowed

      furrow exceeds one that has been ploughed by oxen (for mules can

      plow fallow land quicker than oxen) they ran after him, and when

      he heard their footsteps he stood still, for he made sure they

      were friends from the Trojan camp come by Hector’s orders to bid

      him return; when, however, they were only a spear’s cast, or

      less, away from him, he saw that they were enemies and ran as

      fast as his legs could take him. The others gave chase at once,

      and as a couple of well-trained hounds press forward after a doe

      or hare that runs screaming in front of them, even so did the son

      of Tydeus and Ulysses pursue Dolon and cut him off from his own

      people. But when he had fled so far towards the ships that he

      would soon have fallen in with the outposts, Minerva infused

      fresh strength into the son of Tydeus for fear some other of the

      Achaeans might have the glory of being first to hit him, and he

      might himself be only second; he therefore sprang forward with

      his spear and said, “Stand, or I shall throw my spear, and in

      that case I shall soon make an end of you.”



      He threw as he spoke, but missed his aim on purpose. The dart

      flew over the man’s right shoulder, and then stuck in the ground.

      He stood stock still, trembling and in great fear; his teeth

      chattered, and he turned pale with fear. The two came breathless

      up to him and seized his hands, whereon he began to weep and

      said, “Take me alive; I will ransom myself; we have great store

      of gold, bronze, and wrought iron, and from this my father will

      satisfy you with a very large ransom, should he hear of my being

      alive at the ships of the Achaeans.”



      “Fear not,” replied Ulysses, “let no thought of death be in your

      mind; but tell me, and tell me true, why are you thus going about

      alone in the dead of night away from your camp and towards the

      ships, while other men are sleeping? Is it to plunder the bodies

      of the slain, or did Hector send you to spy out what was going on

      at the ships? Or did you come here of your own mere notion?”



      Dolon answered, his limbs trembling beneath him: “Hector, with

      his vain flattering promises, lured me from my better judgement.

      He said he would give me the horses of the noble son of Peleus

      and his bronze-bedizened chariot; he bade me go through the

      darkness of the flying night, get close to the enemy, and find

      out whether the ships are still guarded as heretofore, or

      whether, now that we have beaten them, the Achaeans design to

      fly, and through sheer exhaustion are neglecting to keep their

      watches.”



      Ulysses smiled at him and answered, “You had indeed set your

      heart upon a great reward, but the horses of the descendant of

      Aeacus are hardly to be kept in hand or driven by any other

      mortal man than Achilles himself, whose mother was an immortal.

      But tell me, and tell me true, where did you leave Hector when

      you started? Where lies his armour and his horses? How, too, are

      the watches and sleeping-ground of the Trojans ordered? What are

      their plans? Will they stay here by the ships and away from the

      city, or now that they have worsted the Achaeans, will they

      retire within their walls?”



      And Dolon answered, “I will tell you truly all. Hector and the

      other councillors are now holding conference by the monument of

      great Ilus, away from the general tumult; as for the guards about

      which you ask me, there is no chosen watch to keep guard over the

      host. The Trojans have their watchfires, for they are bound to

      have them; they, therefore, are awake and keep each other to

      their duty as sentinels; but the allies who have come from other

      places are asleep and leave it to the Trojans to keep guard, for

      their wives and children are not here.”



      Ulysses then said, “Now tell me; are they sleeping among the

      Trojan troops, or do they lie apart? Explain this that I may

      understand it.”



      “I will tell you truly all,” replied Dolon. “To the seaward lie

      the Carians, the Paeonian bowmen, the Leleges, the Cauconians,

      and the noble Pelasgi. The Lycians and proud Mysians, with the

      Phrygians and Meonians, have their place on the side towards

      Thymbra; but why ask about all this? If you want to find your way

      into the host of the Trojans, there are the Thracians, who have

      lately come here and lie apart from the others at the far end of

      the camp; and they have Rhesus son of Eioneus for their king. His

      horses are the finest and strongest that I have ever seen, they

      are whiter than snow and fleeter than any wind that blows. His

      chariot is bedight with silver and gold, and he has brought his

      marvellous golden armour, of the rarest workmanship—too splendid

      for any mortal man to carry, and meet only for the gods. Now,

      therefore, take me to the ships or bind me securely here, until

      you come back and have proved my words whether they be false or

      true.”



      Diomed looked sternly at him and answered, “Think not, Dolon, for

      all the good information you have given us, that you shall escape

      now you are in our hands, for if we ransom you or let you go, you

      will come some second time to the ships of the Achaeans either as

      a spy or as an open enemy, but if I kill you and an end of you,

      you will give no more trouble.”



      On this Dolon would have caught him by the beard to beseech him

      further, but Diomed struck him in the middle of his neck with his

      sword and cut through both sinews so that his head fell rolling

      in the dust while he was yet speaking. They took the ferret skin

      cap from his head, and also the wolf-skin, the bow, and his long

      spear. Ulysses hung them up aloft in honour of Minerva the

      goddess of plunder, and prayed saying, “Accept these, goddess,

      for we give them to you in preference to all the gods in Olympus:

      therefore speed us still further towards the horses and

      sleeping-ground of the Thracians.”



      With these words he took the spoils and set them upon a tamarisk

      tree, and they marked the place by pulling up reeds and gathering

      boughs of tamarisk that they might not miss it as they came back

      through the flying hours of darkness. The two then went onwards

      amid the fallen armour and the blood, and came presently to the

      company of Thracian soldiers, who were sleeping, tired out with

      their day’s toil; their goodly armour was lying on the ground

      beside them all orderly in three rows, and each man had his yoke

      of horses beside him. Rhesus was sleeping in the middle, and hard

      by him his horses were made fast to the topmost rim of his

      chariot. Ulysses from some way off saw him and said, “This,

      Diomed, is the man, and these are the horses about which Dolon

      whom we killed told us. Do your very utmost; dally not about your

      armour, but loose the horses at once—or else kill the men

      yourself, while I see to the horses.”



      Thereon Minerva put courage into the heart of Diomed, and he

      smote them right and left. They made a hideous groaning as they

      were being hacked about, and the earth was red with their blood.

      As a lion springs furiously upon a flock of sheep or goats when

      he finds them without their shepherd, so did the son of Tydeus

      set upon the Thracian soldiers till he had killed twelve. As he

      killed them Ulysses came and drew them aside by their feet one by

      one, that the horses might go forward freely without being

      frightened as they passed over the dead bodies, for they were not

      yet used to them. When the son of Tydeus came to the king, he

      killed him too (which made thirteen), as he was breathing hard,

      for by the counsel of Minerva an evil dream, the seed of Oeneus,

      hovered that night over his head. Meanwhile Ulysses untied the

      horses, made them fast one to another and drove them off,

      striking them with his bow, for he had forgotten to take the whip

      from the chariot. Then he whistled as a sign to Diomed.



      But Diomed stayed where he was, thinking what other daring deed

      he might accomplish. He was doubting whether to take the chariot

      in which the king’s armour was lying, and draw it out by the

      pole, or to lift the armour out and carry it off; or whether

      again, he should not kill some more Thracians. While he was thus

      hesitating Minerva came up to him and said, “Get back, Diomed, to

      the ships or you may be driven thither, should some other god

      rouse the Trojans.”



      Diomed knew that it was the goddess, and at once sprang upon the

      horses. Ulysses beat them with his bow and they flew onward to

      the ships of the Achaeans.



      But Apollo kept no blind look-out when he saw Minerva with the

      son of Tydeus. He was angry with her, and coming to the host of

      the Trojans he roused Hippocoon, a counsellor of the Thracians

      and a noble kinsman of Rhesus. He started up out of his sleep and

      saw that the horses were no longer in their place, and that the

      men were gasping in their death-agony; on this he groaned aloud,

      and called upon his friend by name. Then the whole Trojan camp

      was in an uproar as the people kept hurrying together, and they

      marvelled at the deeds of the heroes who had now got away towards

      the ships.



      When they reached the place where they had killed Hector’s scout,

      Ulysses stayed his horses, and the son of Tydeus, leaping to the

      ground, placed the blood-stained spoils in the hands of Ulysses

      and remounted: then he lashed the horses onwards, and they flew

      forward nothing loth towards the ships as though of their own

      free will. Nestor was first to hear the tramp of their feet. “My

      friends,” said he, “princes and counsellors of the Argives, shall

      I guess right or wrong?—but I must say what I think: there is a

      sound in my ears as of the tramp of horses. I hope it may be

      Diomed and Ulysses driving in horses from the Trojans, but I much

      fear that the bravest of the Argives may have come to some harm

      at their hands.”



      He had hardly done speaking when the two men came in and

      dismounted, whereon the others shook hands right gladly with them

      and congratulated them. Nestor knight of Gerene was first to

      question them. “Tell me,” said he, “renowned Ulysses, how did you

      two come by these horses? Did you steal in among the Trojan

      forces, or did some god meet you and give them to you? They are

      like sunbeams. I am well conversant with the Trojans, for old

      warrior though I am I never hold back by the ships, but I never

      yet saw or heard of such horses as these are. Surely some god

      must have met you and given them to you, for you are both of you

      dear to Jove, and to Jove’s daughter Minerva.”



      And Ulysses answered, “Nestor son of Neleus, honour to the

      Achaean name, heaven, if it so will, can give us even better

      horses than these, for the gods are far mightier than we are.

      These horses, however, about which you ask me, are freshly come

      from Thrace. Diomed killed their king with the twelve bravest of

      his companions. Hard by the ships we took a thirteenth man—a

      scout whom Hector and the other Trojans had sent as a spy upon

      our ships.”



      He laughed as he spoke and drove the horses over the ditch, while

      the other Achaeans followed him gladly. When they reached the

      strongly built quarters of the son of Tydeus, they tied the

      horses with thongs of leather to the manger, where the steeds of

      Diomed stood eating their sweet corn, but Ulysses hung the

      blood-stained spoils of Dolon at the stern of his ship, that they

      might prepare a sacred offering to Minerva. As for themselves,

      they went into the sea and washed the sweat from their bodies,

      and from their necks and thighs. When the sea-water had taken all

      the sweat from off them, and had refreshed them, they went into

      the baths and washed themselves. After they had so done and had

      anointed themselves with oil, they sat down to table, and drawing

      from a full mixing-bowl, made a drink-offering of wine to

      Minerva.