ἸΛΙΆΣ 10

Ἄλλοι μὲν παρὰ νηυσὶν ἀριστῆες Παναχαιῶν
εὗδον παννύχιοι μαλακῷ δεδμημένοι ὕπνῳ·
ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἀτρεΐδην Ἀγαμέμνονα ποιμένα λαῶν
ὕπνος ἔχε γλυκερὸς πολλὰ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντα.
ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἂν ἀστράπτῃ πόσις Ἥρης ἠϋκόμοιο,
τεύχων ἢ πολὺν ὄμβρον ἀθέσφατον ἠὲ χάλαζαν
ἢ νιφετόν, ὅτε πέρ τε χιὼν ἐπάλυνεν ἀρούρας,
ἠέ ποθι πτολέμοιο μέγα στόμα πευκεδανοῖο,
ὣς πυκίν’ ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀνεστενάχιζ’ Ἀγαμέμνων
νειόθεν ἐκ κραδίης, τρομέοντο δέ οἱ φρένες ἐντός.
ἤτοι ὅτ’ ἐς πεδίον τὸ Τρωϊκὸν ἀθρήσειε,
θαύμαζεν πυρὰ πολλὰ τὰ καίετο Ἰλιόθι πρό,
αὐλῶν συρίγγων τ’ ἐνοπὴν ὅμαδόν τ’ ἀνθρώπων.
αὐτὰρ ὅτ’ ἐς νῆάς τε ἴδοι καὶ λαὸν Ἀχαιῶν,
πολλὰς ἐκ κεφαλῆς προθελύμνους ἕλκετο χαίτας
ὑψόθ’ ἐόντι Διί, μέγα δ’ ἔστενε κυδάλιμον κῆρ.
ἧδε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή,
Νέστορ’ ἔπι πρῶτον Νηλήϊον ἐλθέμεν ἀνδρῶν,
εἴ τινά οἱ σὺν μῆτιν ἀμύμονα τεκτήναιτο,

ἥ τις ἀλεξίκακος πᾶσιν Δαναοῖσι γένοιτο.
ὀρθωθεὶς δ’ ἔνδυνε περὶ στήθεσσι χιτῶνα,
ποσσὶ δ’ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
ἀμφὶ δ’ ἔπειτα δαφοινὸν ἑέσσατο δέρμα λέοντος
αἴθωνος μεγάλοιο ποδηνεκές, εἵλετο δ’ ἔγχος.
Ὣς δ’ αὔτως Μενέλαον ἔχε τρόμος—οὐδὲ γὰρ αὐτῷ
ὕπνος ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἐφίζανε—μή τι πάθοιεν
Ἀργεῖοι, τοὶ δὴ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πουλὺν ἐφ’ ὑγρὴν
ἤλυθον ἐς Τροίην πόλεμον θρασὺν ὁρμαίνοντες.
παρδαλέῃ μὲν πρῶτα μετάφρενον εὐρὺ κάλυψε
ποικίλῃ, αὐτὰρ ἐπὶ στεφάνην κεφαλῆφιν ἀείρας
θήκατο χαλκείην, δόρυ δ’ εἵλετο χειρὶ παχείῃ.
βῆ δ’ ἴμεν ἀνστήσων ὃν ἀδελφεόν, ὃς μέγα πάντων
Ἀργείων ἤνασσε, θεὸς δ’ ὣς τίετο δήμῳ.
τὸν δ’ εὗρ’ ἀμφ’ ὤμοισι τιθήμενον ἔντεα καλὰ
νηῒ πάρα πρύμνῃ· τῷ δ’ ἀσπάσιος γένετ’ ἐλθών.
τὸν πρότερος προσέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος·
«τίφθ’ οὕτως ἠθεῖε κορύσσεαι; ἦ τιν’ ἑταίρων
ὀτρυνέεις Τρώεσσιν ἐπίσκοπον; ἀλλὰ μάλ’ αἰνῶς
δείδω μὴ οὔ τίς τοι ὑπόσχηται τόδε ἔργον
ἄνδρας δυσμενέας σκοπιαζέμεν οἶος ἐπελθὼν
νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην· μάλα τις θρασυκάρδιος ἔσται.»
Τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων·
«χρεὼ βουλῆς ἐμὲ καὶ σὲ διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε
κερδαλέης, ἥ τίς κεν ἐρύσσεται ἠδὲ σαώσει
Ἀργείους καὶ νῆας, ἐπεὶ Διὸς ἐτράπετο φρήν.
Ἑκτορέοις ἄρα μᾶλλον ἐπὶ φρένα θῆχ’ ἱεροῖσιν·
οὐ γάρ πω ἰδόμην, οὐδ’ ἔκλυον αὐδήσαντος
ἄνδρ’ ἕνα τοσσάδε μέρμερ’ ἐπ’ ἤματι μητίσασθαι,

ὅσσ’ Ἕκτωρ ἔρρεξε Διῒ φίλος υἷας Ἀχαιῶν,
αὔτως, οὔτε θεᾶς υἱὸς φίλος οὔτε θεοῖο.
ἔργα δ’ ἔρεξ’ ὅσα φημὶ μελησέμεν Ἀργείοισι
δηθά τε καὶ δολιχόν· τόσα γὰρ κακὰ μήσατ’ Ἀχαιούς.
ἀλλ’ ἴθι νῦν Αἴαντα καὶ Ἰδομενῆα κάλεσσον
ῥίμφα θέων παρὰ νῆας· ἐγὼ δ’ ἐπὶ Νέστορα δῖον
εἶμι, καὶ ὀτρυνέω ἀνστήμεναι, αἴ κ’ ἐθέλῃσιν
ἐλθεῖν ἐς φυλάκων ἱερὸν τέλος ἠδ’ ἐπιτεῖλαι.
κείνῳ γάρ κε μάλιστα πιθοίατο· τοῖο γὰρ υἱὸς
σημαίνει φυλάκεσσι καὶ Ἰδομενῆος ὀπάων
Μηριόνης· τοῖσιν γὰρ ἐπετράπομέν γε μάλιστα.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος·
«πῶς γάρ μοι μύθῳ ἐπιτέλλεαι ἠδὲ κελεύεις;
αὖθι μένω μετὰ τοῖσι δεδεγμένος εἰς ὅ κεν ἔλθῃς,
ἦε θέω μετὰ σ’ αὖτις, ἐπὴν εὖ τοῖς ἐπιτείλω;»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων,
«αὖθι μένειν, μή πως ἀβροτάξομεν ἀλλήλοιιν
ἐρχομένω· πολλαὶ γὰρ ἀνὰ στρατόν εἰσι κέλευθοι.
φθέγγεο δ’ ᾗ κεν ἴῃσθα καὶ ἐγρήγορθαι ἄνωχθι,
πατρόθεν ἐκ γενεῆς ὀνομάζων ἄνδρα ἕκαστον
πάντας κυδαίνων· μηδὲ μεγαλίζεο θυμῷ,
ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτοί περ πονεώμεθα· ὧδέ που ἄμμι
Ζεὺς ἐπὶ γιγνομένοισιν ἵει κακότητα βαρεῖαν.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ἀπέπεμπεν ἀδελφεὸν εὖ ἐπιτείλας·
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ ῥ’ ἰέναι μετὰ Νέστορα ποιμένα λαῶν·
τὸν δ’ εὗρεν παρά τε κλισίῃ καὶ νηῒ μελαίνῃ
εὐνῇ ἔνι μαλακῇ· παρὰ δ’ ἔντεα ποικίλ’ ἔκειτο,
ἀσπὶς καὶ δύο δοῦρε φαεινή τε τρυφάλεια.
πὰρ δὲ ζωστὴρ κεῖτο παναίολος, ᾧ ῥ’ ὁ γεραιὸς
ζώννυθ’ ὅτ’ ἐς πόλεμον φθισήνορα θωρήσσοιτο

λαὸν ἄγων, ἐπεὶ οὐ μὲν ἐπέτρεπε γήραϊ λυγρῷ.
ὀρθωθεὶς δ’ ἄρ’ ἐπ’ ἀγκῶνος κεφαλὴν ἐπαείρας,
Ἀτρεΐδην προσέειπε καὶ ἐξερεείνετο μύθῳ·
«τίς δ’ οὗτος κατὰ νῆας ἀνὰ στρατὸν ἔρχεαι οἶος
νύκτα δι’ ὀρφναίην, ὅτε θ’ εὕδουσι βροτοὶ ἄλλοι,
ἠέ τιν’ οὐρήων διζήμενος, ἤ τιν’ ἑταίρων;
φθέγγεο, μηδ’ ἀκέων ἐπ’ ἔμ’ ἔρχεο· τίπτε δέ σε χρεώ;»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
«ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
γνώσεαι Ἀτρεΐδην Ἀγαμέμνονα, τὸν περὶ πάντων
Ζεὺς ἐνέηκε πόνοισι διαμπερὲς εἰς ὅ κ’ ἀϋτμὴ
ἐν στήθεσσι μένῃ καί μοι φίλα γούνατ’ ὀρώρῃ.
πλάζομαι ὧδ’ ἐπεὶ οὔ μοι ἐπ’ ὄμμασι νήδυμος ὕπνος
ἱζάνει, ἀλλὰ μέλει πόλεμος καὶ κήδε’ Ἀχαιῶν.
αἰνῶς γὰρ Δαναῶν περιδείδια, οὐδέ μοι ἦτορ
ἔμπεδον, ἀλλ’ ἀλαλύκτημαι, κραδίη δέ μοι ἔξω
στηθέων ἐκθρῴσκει, τρομέει δ’ ὑπὸ φαίδιμα γυῖα.
ἀλλ’ εἴ τι δραίνεις, ἐπεὶ οὐδὲ σέ γ’ ὕπνος ἱκάνει,
δεῦρ’ ἐς τοὺς φύλακας καταβήομεν, ὄφρα ἴδωμεν,
μὴ τοὶ μὲν καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνῳ
κοιμήσωνται, ἀτὰρ φυλακῆς ἐπὶ πάγχυ λάθωνται.
δυσμενέες δ’ ἄνδρες σχεδὸν εἵαται· οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν
μή πως καὶ διὰ νύκτα μενοινήσωσι μάχεσθαι.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον
οὔ θην Ἕκτορι πάντα νοήματα μητίετα Ζεὺς
ἐκτελέει, ὅσα πού νυν ἐέλπεται· ἀλλά μιν οἴω
κήδεσι μοχθήσειν καὶ πλείοσιν, εἴ κεν Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἐκ χόλου ἀργαλέοιο μεταστρέψῃ φίλον ἦτορ.

σοὶ δὲ μάλ’ ἕψομ’ ἐγώ· ποτὶ δ’ αὖ καὶ ἐγείρομεν ἄλλους,
ἠμὲν Τυδεΐδην δουρὶ κλυτὸν ἠδ’ Ὀδυσῆα
ἠδ’ Αἴαντα ταχὺν καὶ Φυλέος ἄλκιμον υἱόν.
ἀλλ’ εἴ τις καὶ τοῦσδε μετοιχόμενος καλέσειεν
ἀντίθεόν τ’ Αἴαντα καὶ Ἰδομενῆα ἄνακτα·
τῶν γὰρ νῆες ἔασιν ἑκαστάτω, οὐδὲ μάλ’ ἐγγύς.
ἀλλὰ φίλον περ ἐόντα καὶ αἰδοῖον Μενέλαον
νεικέσω, εἴ πέρ μοι νεμεσήσεαι, οὐδ’ ἐπικεύσω,
ὡς εὕδει, σοὶ δ’ οἴῳ ἐπέτρεψεν πονέεσθαι.
νῦν ὄφελεν κατὰ πάντας ἀριστῆας πονέεσθαι
λισσόμενος· χρειὼ γὰρ ἱκάνεται οὐκέτ’ ἀνεκτός.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
«ὦ γέρον ἄλλοτε μέν σε καὶ αἰτιάασθαι ἄνωγα·
πολλάκι γὰρ μεθιεῖ τε καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλει πονέεσθαι
οὔτ’ ὄκνῳ εἴκων οὔτ’ ἀφραδίῃσι νόοιο,
ἀλλ’ ἐμέ τ’ εἰσορόων καὶ ἐμὴν ποτιδέγμενος ὁρμήν.
νῦν δ’ ἐμέο πρότερος μάλ’ ἐπέγρετο καί μοι ἐπέστη·
τὸν μὲν ἐγὼ προέηκα καλήμεναι οὓς σὺ μεταλλᾷς.
ἀλλ’ ἴομεν· κείνους δὲ κιχησόμεθα πρὸ πυλάων
ἐν φυλάκεσσ’, ἵνα γάρ σφιν ἐπέφραδον ἠγερέθεσθαι.»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«οὕτως οὔ τίς οἱ νεμεσήσεται οὐδ’ ἀπιθήσει
Ἀργείων, ὅτε κέν τιν’ ἐποτρύνῃ καὶ ἀνώγῃ.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν ἔνδυνε περὶ στήθεσσι χιτῶνα,
ποσσὶ δ’ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρα χλαῖναν περονήσατο φοινικόεσσαν
διπλῆν ἐκταδίην, οὔλη δ’ ἐπενήνοθε λάχνη.
εἵλετο δ’ ἄλκιμον ἔγχος ἀκαχμένον ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ,
βῆ δ’ ἰέναι κατὰ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων.

πρῶτον ἔπειτ’ Ὀδυσῆα Διὶ μῆτιν ἀτάλαντον,
ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνέγειρε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ
φθεγξάμενος· τὸν δ’ αἶψα περὶ φρένας ἤλυθ’ ἰωή,
ἐκ δ’ ἦλθε κλισίης καί σφεας πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
«τίφθ’ οὕτω κατὰ νῆας ἀνὰ στρατὸν οἶοι ἀλᾶσθε
νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην, ὅ τι δὴ χρειὼ τόσον ἵκει;»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη πολυμήχαν’ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
μὴ νεμέσα· τοῖον γὰρ ἄχος βεβίηκεν Ἀχαιούς.
ἀλλ’ ἕπε’, ὄφρα καὶ ἄλλον ἐγείρομεν ὅν τ’ ἐπέοικε
βουλὰς βουλεύειν, ἢ φευγέμεν ἠὲ μάχεσθαι.»
Ὣς φάθ’, ὁ δὲ κλισίην δὲ κιὼν πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεὺς
ποικίλον ἀμφ’ ὤμοισι σάκος θέτο, βῆ δὲ μετ’ αὐτούς.
βὰν δ’ ἐπὶ Τυδεΐδην Διομήδεα· τὸν δὲ κίχανον
ἐκτὸς ἀπὸ κλισίης σὺν τεύχεσιν· ἀμφὶ δ’ ἑταῖροι
εὗδον, ὑπὸ κρασὶν δ’ ἔχον ἀσπίδας· ἔγχεα δέ σφιν
ὄρθ’ ἐπὶ σαυρωτῆρος ἐλήλατο, τῆλε δὲ χαλκὸς
λάμφ’ ὥς τε στεροπὴ πατρὸς Διός· αὐτὰρ ὅ γ’ ἥρως
εὗδ’, ὑπὸ δ’ ἔστρωτο ῥινὸν βοὸς ἀγραύλοιο,
αὐτὰρ ὑπὸ κράτεσφι τάπης τετάνυστο φαεινός.
τὸν παρστὰς ἀνέγειρε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ,
λὰξ ποδὶ κινήσας, ὄτρυνέ τε νείκεσέ τ’ ἄντην·
«ἔγρεο Τυδέος υἱέ· τί πάννυχον ὕπνον ἀωτεῖς;
οὐκ ἀΐεις ὡς Τρῶες ἐπὶ θρωσμῷ πεδίοιο
εἵαται ἄγχι νεῶν, ὀλίγος δ’ ἔτι χῶρος ἐρύκει;»
Ὣς φάθ’, ὁ δ’ ἐξ ὕπνοιο μάλα κραιπνῶς ἀνόρουσε,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«σχέτλιός ἐσσι γεραιέ· σὺ μὲν πόνου οὔ ποτε λήγεις.

οὔ νυ καὶ ἄλλοι ἔασι νεώτεροι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
οἵ κεν ἔπειτα ἕκαστον ἐγείρειαν βασιλήων
πάντῃ ἐποιχόμενοι; σὺ δ’ ἀμήχανός ἐσσι γεραιέ.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα φίλος κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
εἰσὶν μέν μοι παῖδες ἀμύμονες, εἰσὶ δὲ λαοὶ
καὶ πολέες, τῶν κέν τις ἐποιχόμενος καλέσειεν·
ἀλλὰ μάλα μεγάλη χρειὼ βεβίηκεν Ἀχαιούς.
νῦν γὰρ δὴ πάντεσσιν ἐπὶ ξυροῦ ἵσταται ἀκμῆς
ἢ μάλα λυγρὸς ὄλεθρος Ἀχαιοῖς ἠὲ βιῶναι.
ἀλλ’ ἴθι νῦν Αἴαντα ταχὺν καὶ Φυλέος υἱὸν
ἄνστησον—σὺ γάρ ἐσσι νεώτερος—εἴ μ’ ἐλεαίρεις.»
Ὣς φάθ’, ὁ δ’ ἀμφ’ ὤμοισιν ἑέσσατο δέρμα λέοντος
αἴθωνος μεγάλοιο ποδηνεκές, εἵλετο δ’ ἔγχος.
βῆ δ’ ἰέναι, τοὺς δ’ ἔνθεν ἀναστήσας ἄγεν ἥρως.
Οἳ δ’ ὅτε δὴ φυλάκεσσιν ἐν ἀγρομένοισιν ἔμιχθεν,
οὐδὲ μὲν εὕδοντας φυλάκων ἡγήτορας εὗρον,
ἀλλ’ ἐγρηγορτὶ σὺν τεύχεσιν εἵατο πάντες.
ὡς δὲ κύνες περὶ μῆλα δυσωρήσωνται ἐν αὐλῇ
θηρὸς ἀκούσαντες κρατερόφρονος, ὅς τε καθ’ ὕλην
ἔρχηται δι’ ὄρεσφι· πολὺς δ’ ὀρυμαγδὸς ἐπ’ αὐτῷ
ἀνδρῶν ἠδὲ κυνῶν, ἀπό τέ σφισιν ὕπνος ὄλωλεν·
ὣς τῶν νήδυμος ὕπνος ἀπὸ βλεφάροιιν ὀλώλει
νύκτα φυλασσομένοισι κακήν· πεδίον δὲ γὰρ αἰεὶ
τετράφαθ’, ὁππότ’ ἐπὶ Τρώων ἀΐοιεν ἰόντων.
τοὺς δ’ ὁ γέρων γήθησεν ἰδὼν θάρσυνέ τε μύθῳ
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
«οὕτω νῦν φίλα τέκνα φυλάσσετε· μηδέ τιν’ ὕπνος
αἱρείτω, μὴ χάρμα γενώμεθα δυσμενέεσσιν.»

Ὣς εἰπὼν τάφροιο διέσσυτο· τοὶ δ’ ἅμ’ ἕποντο
Ἀργείων βασιλῆες ὅσοι κεκλήατο βουλήν.
τοῖς δ’ ἅμα Μηριόνης καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱὸς
ἤϊσαν· αὐτοὶ γὰρ κάλεον συμμητιάασθαι.
τάφρον δ’ ἐκδιαβάντες ὀρυκτὴν ἑδριόωντο
ἐν καθαρῷ, ὅθι δὴ νεκύων διεφαίνετο χῶρος
πιπτόντων· ὅθεν αὖτις ἀπετράπετ’ ὄβριμος Ἕκτωρ
ὀλλὺς Ἀργείους, ὅτε δὴ περὶ νὺξ ἐκάλυψεν.
ἔνθα καθεζόμενοι ἔπε’ ἀλλήλοισι πίφαυσκον·
τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«ὦ φίλοι οὐκ ἂν δή τις ἀνὴρ πεπίθοιθ’ ἑῷ αὐτοῦ
θυμῷ τολμήεντι μετὰ Τρῶας μεγαθύμους
ἐλθεῖν, εἴ τινά που δηΐων ἕλοι ἐσχατόωντα,
ἤ τινά που καὶ φῆμιν ἐνὶ Τρώεσσι πύθοιτο,
ἅσσά τε μητιόωσι μετὰ σφίσιν, ἢ μεμάασιν
αὖθι μένειν παρὰ νηυσὶν ἀπόπροθεν, ἦε πόλιν δὲ
ἂψ ἀναχωρήσουσιν, ἐπεὶ δαμάσαντό γ’ Ἀχαιούς.
ταῦτά κε πάντα πύθοιτο, καὶ ἂψ εἰς ἡμέας ἔλθοι
ἀσκηθής· μέγα κέν οἱ ὑπουράνιον κλέος εἴη
πάντας ἐπ’ ἀνθρώπους, καί οἱ δόσις ἔσσεται ἐσθλή·
ὅσσοι γὰρ νήεσσιν ἐπικρατέουσιν ἄριστοι
τῶν πάντων οἱ ἕκαστος ὄϊν δώσουσι μέλαιναν
θῆλυν ὑπόῤῥηνον· τῇ μὲν κτέρας οὐδὲν ὁμοῖον,
αἰεὶ δ’ ἐν δαίτῃσι καὶ εἰλαπίνῃσι παρέσται.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἳ δ’ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης·
«Νέστορ ἔμ’ ὀτρύνει κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων δῦναι στρατὸν ἐγγὺς ἐόντων,
Τρώων· ἀλλ’ εἴ τίς μοι ἀνὴρ ἅμ’ ἕποιτο καὶ ἄλλος
μᾶλλον θαλπωρὴ καὶ θαρσαλεώτερον ἔσται.

σύν τε δύ’ ἐρχομένω καί τε πρὸ ὃ τοῦ ἐνόησεν
ὅππως κέρδος ἔῃ· μοῦνος δ’ εἴ πέρ τε νοήσῃ,
ἀλλά τέ οἱ βράσσων τε νόος, λεπτὴ δέ τε μῆτις.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἳ δ’ ἔθελον Διομήδεϊ πολλοὶ ἕπεσθαι.
ἠθελέτην Αἴαντε δύω θεράποντες Ἄρηος,
ἤθελε Μηριόνης, μάλα δ’ ἤθελε Νέστορος υἱός,
ἤθελε δ’ Ἀτρεΐδης δουρικλειτὸς Μενέλαος,
ἤθελε δ’ ὁ τλήμων Ὀδυσεὺς καταδῦναι ὅμιλον
Τρώων· αἰεὶ γάρ οἱ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸς ἐτόλμα.
τοῖσι δὲ καὶ μετέειπεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων·
«Τυδεΐδη Διόμηδες ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ
τὸν μὲν δὴ ἕταρόν γ’ αἱρήσεαι ὅν κ’ ἐθέλῃσθα,
φαινομένων τὸν ἄριστον, ἐπεὶ μεμάασί γε πολλοί.
μηδὲ σύ γ’ αἰδόμενος σῇσι φρεσὶ τὸν μὲν ἀρείω
καλλείπειν, σὺ δὲ χείρον’ ὀπάσσεαι αἰδοῖ εἴκων
ἐς γενεὴν ὁρόων, μηδ’ εἰ βασιλεύτερός ἐστιν.»
Ὣς ἔφατ’, ἔδεισεν δὲ περὶ ξανθῷ Μενελάῳ.
τοῖς δ’ αὖτις μετέειπε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης·
«εἰ μὲν δὴ ἕταρόν γε κελεύετέ μ’ αὐτὸν ἑλέσθαι,
πῶς ἂν ἔπειτ’ Ὀδυσῆος ἐγὼ θείοιο λαθοίμην,
οὗ πέρι μὲν πρόφρων κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι, φιλεῖ δέ ἑ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
τούτου γ’ ἑσπομένοιο καὶ ἐκ πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο
ἄμφω νοστήσαιμεν, ἐπεὶ περίοιδε νοῆσαι.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς·
«Τυδεΐδη μήτ’ ἄρ με μάλ’ αἴνεε μήτέ τι νείκει·
εἰδόσι γάρ τοι ταῦτα μετ’ Ἀργείοις ἀγορεύεις.
ἀλλ’ ἴομεν· μάλα γὰρ νὺξ ἄνεται, ἐγγύθι δ’ ἠώς,
ἄστρα δὲ δὴ προβέβηκε, παροίχωκεν δὲ πλέων νὺξ

τῶν δύο μοιράων, τριτάτη δ’ ἔτι μοῖρα λέλειπται.»
Ὣς εἰπόνθ’ ὅπλοισιν ἔνι δεινοῖσιν ἐδύτην.
Τυδεΐδῃ μὲν δῶκε μενεπτόλεμος Θρασυμήδης
φάσγανον ἄμφηκες—τὸ δ’ ἑὸν παρὰ νηῒ λέλειπτο—
καὶ σάκος· ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ κυνέην κεφαλῆφιν ἔθηκε
ταυρείην, ἄφαλόν τε καὶ ἄλλοφον, ἥ τε καταῖτυξ
κέκληται, ῥύεται δὲ κάρη θαλερῶν αἰζηῶν.
Μηριόνης δ’ Ὀδυσῆϊ δίδου βιὸν ἠδὲ φαρέτρην
καὶ ξίφος, ἀμφὶ δέ οἱ κυνέην κεφαλῆφιν ἔθηκε
ῥινοῦ ποιητήν· πολέσιν δ’ ἔντοσθεν ἱμᾶσιν
ἐντέτατο στερεῶς· ἔκτοσθε δὲ λευκοὶ ὀδόντες
ἀργιόδοντος ὑὸς θαμέες ἔχον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα
εὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως· μέσσῃ δ’ ἐνὶ πῖλος ἀρήρει.
τήν ῥά ποτ’ ἐξ Ἐλεῶνος Ἀμύντορος Ὀρμενίδαο
ἐξέλετ’ Αὐτόλυκος πυκινὸν δόμον ἀντιτορήσας,
Σκάνδειαν δ’ ἄρα δῶκε Κυθηρίῳ Ἀμφιδάμαντι·
Ἀμφιδάμας δὲ Μόλῳ δῶκε ξεινήϊον εἶναι,
αὐτὰρ ὃ Μηριόνῃ δῶκεν ᾧ παιδὶ φορῆναι·
δὴ τότ’ Ὀδυσσῆος πύκασεν κάρη ἀμφιτεθεῖσα.
Τὼ δ’ ἐπεὶ οὖν ὅπλοισιν ἔνι δεινοῖσιν ἐδύτην,
βάν ῥ’ ἰέναι, λιπέτην δὲ κατ’ αὐτόθι πάντας ἀρίστους.
τοῖσι δὲ δεξιὸν ἧκεν ἐρωδιὸν ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη· τοὶ δ’ οὐκ ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι
νύκτα δι’ ὀρφναίην, ἀλλὰ κλάγξαντος ἄκουσαν.
χαῖρε δὲ τῷ ὄρνιθ’ Ὀδυσεύς, ἠρᾶτο δ’ Ἀθήνῃ·
«κλῦθί μευ αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, ἥ τέ μοι αἰεὶ
ἐν πάντεσσι πόνοισι παρίστασαι, οὐδέ σε λήθω
κινύμενος· νῦν αὖτε μάλιστά με φῖλαι Ἀθήνη,
δὸς δὲ πάλιν ἐπὶ νῆας ἐϋκλεῖας ἀφικέσθαι
ῥέξαντας μέγα ἔργον, ὅ κε Τρώεσσι μελήσῃ.»
Δεύτερος αὖτ’ ἠρᾶτο βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης·

«κέκλυθι νῦν καὶ ἐμεῖο Διὸς τέκος Ἀτρυτώνη·
σπεῖό μοι ὡς ὅτε πατρὶ ἅμ’ ἕσπεο Τυδέϊ δίῳ
ἐς Θήβας, ὅτε τε πρὸ Ἀχαιῶν ἄγγελος ᾔει.
τοὺς δ’ ἄρ’ ἐπ’ Ἀσωπῷ λίπε χαλκοχίτωνας Ἀχαιούς,
αὐτὰρ ὁ μειλίχιον μῦθον φέρε Καδμείοισι
κεῖσ’· ἀτὰρ ἂψ ἀπιὼν μάλα μέρμερα μήσατο ἔργα
σὺν σοὶ δῖα θεά, ὅτε οἱ πρόφρασσα παρέστης.
ὣς νῦν μοι ἐθέλουσα παρίσταο καί με φύλασσε.
σοὶ δ’ αὖ ἐγὼ ῥέξω βοῦν ἦνιν εὐρυμέτωπον
ἀδμήτην, ἣν οὔ πω ὑπὸ ζυγὸν ἤγαγεν ἀνήρ·
τήν τοι ἐγὼ ῥέξω χρυσὸν κέρασιν περιχεύας.»
Ὣς ἔφαν εὐχόμενοι, τῶν δ’ ἔκλυε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
οἳ δ’ ἐπεὶ ἠρήσαντο Διὸς κούρῃ μεγάλοιο,
βάν ῥ’ ἴμεν ὥς τε λέοντε δύω διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν
ἂμ φόνον, ἂν νέκυας, διά τ’ ἔντεα καὶ μέλαν αἷμα.
Οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδὲ Τρῶας ἀγήνορας εἴασεν Ἕκτωρ
εὕδειν, ἀλλ’ ἄμυδις κικλήσκετο πάντας ἀρίστους,
ὅσσοι ἔσαν Τρώων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες·
τοὺς ὅ γε συγκαλέσας πυκινὴν ἀρτύνετο βουλήν·
«τίς κέν μοι τόδε ἔργον ὑποσχόμενος τελέσειε
δώρῳ ἔπι μεγάλῳ; μισθὸς δέ οἱ ἄρκιος ἔσται.
δώσω γὰρ δίφρόν τε δύω τ’ ἐριαύχενας ἵππους,
οἵ κεν ἄριστοι ἔωσι θοῇς ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν
ὅς τίς κε τλαίη, οἷ τ’ αὐτῷ κῦδος ἄροιτο,
νηῶν ὠκυπόρων σχεδὸν ἐλθέμεν, ἔκ τε πυθέσθαι
ἠὲ φυλάσσονται νῆες θοαὶ ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,
ἦ ἤδη χείρεσσιν ὑφ’ ἡμετέρῃσι δαμέντες
φύξιν βουλεύουσι μετὰ σφίσιν, οὐδ’ ἐθέλουσι

νύκτα φυλασσέμεναι, καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες αἰνῷ.»
Ὣς ἔφαθ’, οἱ δ’ ἄρα πάντες ἀκὴν ἐγένοντο σιωπῇ.
ἦν δέ τις ἐν Τρώεσσι Δόλων Εὐμήδεος υἱὸς
κήρυκος θείοιο πολύχρυσος πολύχαλκος,
ὃς δή τοι εἶδος μὲν ἔην κακός, ἀλλὰ ποδώκης·
αὐτὰρ ὁ μοῦνος ἔην μετὰ πέντε κασιγνήτῃσιν.
ὅς ῥα τότε Τρωσίν τε καὶ Ἕκτορι μῦθον ἔειπεν·
«Ἕκτορ ἔμ’ ὀτρύνει κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
νηῶν ὠκυπόρων σχεδὸν ἐλθέμεν ἔκ τε πυθέσθαι.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε μοι τὸ σκῆπτρον ἀνάσχεο, καί μοι ὄμοσσον
ἦ μὲν τοὺς ἵππους τε καὶ ἅρματα ποικίλα χαλκῷ
δωσέμεν, οἳ φορέουσιν ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα,
σοὶ δ’ ἐγὼ οὐχ ἅλιος σκοπὸς ἔσσομαι οὐδ’ ἀπὸ δόξης·
τόφρα γὰρ ἐς στρατὸν εἶμι διαμπερὲς ὄφρ’ ἂν ἵκωμαι
νῆ’ Ἀγαμεμνονέην, ὅθι που μέλλουσιν ἄριστοι
βουλὰς βουλεύειν ἢ φευγέμεν ἠὲ μάχεσθαι.»
Ὣς φάθ’, ὁ δ’ ἐν χερσὶ σκῆπτρον λάβε καί οἱ ὄμοσσεν·
«ἴστω νῦν Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἐρίγδουπος πόσις Ἥρης
μὴ μὲν τοῖς ἵπποισιν ἀνὴρ ἐποχήσεται ἄλλος
Τρώων, ἀλλά σέ φημι διαμπερὲς ἀγλαϊεῖσθαι.»
Ὣς φάτο καί ῥ’ ἐπίορκον ἐπώμοσε, τὸν δ’ ὀρόθυνεν·
αὐτίκα δ’ ἀμφ’ ὤμοισιν ἐβάλλετο καμπύλα τόξα,
ἕσσατο δ’ ἔκτοσθεν ῥινὸν πολιοῖο λύκοιο,
κρατὶ δ’ ἐπὶ κτιδέην κυνέην, ἕλε δ’ ὀξὺν ἄκοντα,
βῆ δ’ ἰέναι προτὶ νῆας ἀπὸ στρατοῦ· οὐδ’ ἄρ’ ἔμελλεν
ἐλθὼν ἐκ νηῶν ἂψ Ἕκτορι μῦθον ἀποίσειν.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἵππων τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν κάλλιφ’ ὅμιλον,
βῆ ῥ’ ἀν’ ὁδὸν μεμαώς· τὸν δὲ φράσατο προσιόντα
διογενὴς Ὀδυσεύς, Διομήδεα δὲ προσέειπεν·

«οὗτός τις, Διόμηδες, ἀπὸ στρατοῦ ἔρχεται ἀνήρ,
οὐκ οἶδ’ ἢ νήεσσιν ἐπίσκοπος ἡμετέρῃσιν,
ἦ τινα συλήσων νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.
ἀλλ’ ἐῶμέν μιν πρῶτα παρεξελθεῖν πεδίοιο
τυτθόν· ἔπειτα δέ κ’ αὐτὸν ἐπαΐξαντες ἕλοιμεν
καρπαλίμως· εἰ δ’ ἄμμε παραφθαίησι πόδεσσιν,
αἰεί μιν ἐπὶ νῆας ἀπὸ στρατόφι προτιειλεῖν
ἔγχει ἐπαΐσσων, μή πως προτὶ ἄστυ ἀλύξῃ.»
Ὣς ἄρα φωνήσαντε παρὲξ ὁδοῦ ἐν νεκύεσσι
κλινθήτην· ὁ δ’ ἄρ’ ὦκα παρέδραμεν ἀφραδίῃσιν.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἀπέην ὅσσόν τ’ ἐπὶ οὖρα πέλονται
ἡμιόνων—αἱ γάρ τε βοῶν προφερέστεραί εἰσιν
ἑλκέμεναι νειοῖο βαθείης πηκτὸν ἄροτρον—
τὼ μὲν ἐπεδραμέτην, ὃ δ’ ἄρ’ ἔστη δοῦπον ἀκούσας.
ἔλπετο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀποστρέψοντας ἑταίρους
ἐκ Τρώων ἰέναι πάλιν Ἕκτορος ὀτρύναντος.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἄπεσαν δουρηνεκὲς ἢ καὶ ἔλασσον,
γνῶ ῥ’ ἄνδρας δηΐους, λαιψηρὰ δὲ γούνατ’ ἐνώμα
φευγέμεναι· τοὶ δ’ αἶψα διώκειν ὁρμήθησαν.
ὡς δ’ ὅτε καρχαρόδοντε δύω κύνε εἰδότε θήρης,
ἢ κεμάδ’ ἠὲ λαγωὸν ἐπείγετον ἐμμενὲς αἰεὶ
χῶρον ἀν’ ὑλήενθ’, ὁ δέ τε προθέῃσι μεμηκώς,
ὣς τὸν Τυδεΐδης ἠδ’ ὁ πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεὺς
λαοῦ ἀποτμήξαντε διώκετον ἐμμενὲς αἰεί.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ τάχ’ ἔμελλε μιγήσεσθαι φυλάκεσσι
φεύγων ἐς νῆας, τότε δὴ μένος ἔμβαλ’ Ἀθήνη
Τυδεΐδῃ, ἵνα μή τις Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων

φθαίη ἐπευξάμενος βαλέειν, ὃ δὲ δεύτερος ἔλθοι.
δουρὶ δ’ ἐπαΐσσων προσέφη κρατερὸς Διομήδης·
«ἠὲ μέν’ ἠέ σε δουρὶ κιχήσομαι, οὐδέ σέ φημι
δηρὸν ἐμῆς ἀπὸ χειρὸς ἀλύξειν αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.»
Ἦ ῥα καὶ ἔγχος ἀφῆκεν, ἑκὼν δ’ ἡμάρτανε φωτός·
δεξιτερὸν δ’ ὑπὲρ ὦμον ἐΰξου δουρὸς ἀκωκὴ
ἐν γαίῃ ἐπάγη· ὃ δ’ ἄρ’ ἔστη τάρβησέν τε
βαμβαίνων—ἄραβος δὲ διὰ στόμα γίγνετ’ ὀδόντων—
χλωρὸς ὑπαὶ δείους· τὼ δ’ ἀσθμαίνοντε κιχήτην,
χειρῶν δ’ ἁψάσθην· ὃ δὲ δακρύσας ἔπος ηὔδα·
«ζωγρεῖτ’, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐμὲ λύσομαι· ἔστι γὰρ ἔνδον
χαλκός τε χρυσός τε πολύκμητός τε σίδηρος,
τῶν κ’ ὔμμιν χαρίσαιτο πατὴρ ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα,
εἴ κεν ἐμὲ ζωὸν πεπύθοιτ’ ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.»
Τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«θάρσει, μηδέ τί τοι θάνατος καταθύμιος ἔστω.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
πῇ δὴ οὕτως ἐπὶ νῆας ἀπὸ στρατοῦ ἔρχεαι οἷος
νύκτα δι’ ὀρφναίην, ὅτε θ’ εὕδουσι βροτοὶ ἄλλοι;
ἤ τινα συλήσων νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων;
ἦ σ’ Ἕκτωρ προέηκε διασκοπιᾶσθαι ἕκαστα
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς; ἦ σ’ αὐτὸν θυμὸς ἀνῆκε;»
Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Δόλων, ὑπὸ δ’ ἔτρεμε γυῖα·
«πολλῇσίν μ’ ἄτῃσι παρὲκ νόον ἤγαγεν Ἕκτωρ,
ὅς μοι Πηλεΐωνος ἀγαυοῦ μώνυχας ἵππους
δωσέμεναι κατένευσε καὶ ἅρματα ποικίλα χαλκῷ,
ἠνώγει δέ μ’ ἰόντα θοὴν διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων σχεδὸν ἐλθέμεν, ἔκ τε πυθέσθαι
ἠὲ φυλάσσονται νῆες θοαὶ ὡς τὸ πάρος περ,

ἦ ἤδη χείρεσσιν ὑφ’ ἡμετέρῃσι δαμέντες
φύξιν βουλεύουσι μετὰ σφίσιν, οὐδ’ ἐθέλουσι
νύκτα φυλασσέμεναι, καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες αἰνῷ.»
Τὸν δ’ ἐπιμειδήσας προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ἦ ῥά νύ τοι μεγάλων δώρων ἐπεμαίετο θυμὸς
ἵππων Αἰακίδαο δαΐφρονος· οἳ δ’ ἀλεγεινοὶ
ἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι δαμήμεναι ἠδ’ ὀχέεσθαι
ἄλλῳ γ’ ἢ Ἀχιλῆϊ, τὸν ἀθανάτη τέκε μήτηρ.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον·
ποῦ νῦν δεῦρο κιὼν λίπες Ἕκτορα ποιμένα λαῶν;
ποῦ δέ οἱ ἔντεα κεῖται ἀρήϊα, ποῦ δέ οἱ ἵπποι;
πῶς δαὶ τῶν ἄλλων Τρώων φυλακαί τε καὶ εὐναί;
ἅσσά τε μητιόωσι μετὰ σφίσιν, ἢ μεμάασιν
αὖθι μένειν παρὰ νηυσὶν ἀπόπροθεν, ἦε πόλιν δὲ
ἂψ ἀναχωρήσουσιν, ἐπεὶ δαμάσαντό γ’ Ἀχαιούς.»
Τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπε Δόλων Εὐμήδεος υἱός·
«τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μάλ’ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω.
Ἕκτωρ μὲν μετὰ τοῖσιν, ὅσοι βουληφόροι εἰσί,
βουλὰς βουλεύει θείου παρὰ σήματι Ἴλου,
νόσφιν ἀπὸ φλοίσβου· φυλακὰς δ’ ἃς εἴρεαι ἥρως
οὔ τις κεκριμένη ῥύεται στρατὸν οὐδὲ φυλάσσει.
ὅσσαι μὲν Τρώων πυρὸς ἐσχάραι, οἷσιν ἀνάγκη
οἷ δ’ ἐγρηγόρθασι φυλασσέμεναί τε κέλονται
ἀλλήλοις· ἀτὰρ αὖτε πολύκλητοι ἐπίκουροι
εὕδουσι· Τρωσὶν γὰρ ἐπιτραπέουσι φυλάσσειν·
οὐ γάρ σφιν παῖδες σχεδὸν εἵαται οὐδὲ γυναῖκες.»
Τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«πῶς γὰρ νῦν Τρώεσσι μεμιγμένοι ἱπποδάμοισιν
εὕδουσ’ ἦ ἀπάνευθε; δίειπέ μοι ὄφρα δαείω.»

Τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα Δόλων Εὐμήδεος υἱός·
«τοιγὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ ταῦτα μάλ’ ἀτρεκέως καταλέξω.
πρὸς μὲν ἁλὸς Κᾶρες καὶ Παίονες ἀγκυλότοξοι
καὶ Λέλεγες καὶ Καύκωνες δῖοί τε Πελασγοί,
πρὸς Θύμβρης δ’ ἔλαχον Λύκιοι Μυσοί τ’ ἀγέρωχοι
καὶ Φρύγες ἱππόμαχοι καὶ Μῄονες ἱπποκορυσταί.
ἀλλὰ τί ἢ ἐμὲ ταῦτα διεξερέεσθε ἕκαστα;
εἰ γὰρ δὴ μέματον Τρώων καταδῦναι ὅμιλον
Θρήϊκες οἷδ’ ἀπάνευθε νεήλυδες ἔσχατοι ἄλλων·
ἐν δέ σφιν Ῥῆσος βασιλεὺς πάϊς Ἠϊονῆος.
τοῦ δὴ καλλίστους ἵππους ἴδον ἠδὲ μεγίστους·
λευκότεροι χιόνος, θείειν δ’ ἀνέμοισιν ὁμοῖοι·
ἅρμα δέ οἱ χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ εὖ ἤσκηται·
τεύχεα δὲ χρύσεια πελώρια θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι
ἤλυθ’ ἔχων· τὰ μὲν οὔ τι καταθνητοῖσιν ἔοικεν
ἄνδρεσσιν φορέειν, ἀλλ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν.
ἀλλ’ ἐμὲ μὲν νῦν νηυσὶ πελάσσετον ὠκυπόροισιν,
ἠέ με δήσαντες λίπετ’ αὐτόθι νηλέϊ δεσμῷ,
ὄφρά κεν ἔλθητον καὶ πειρηθῆτον ἐμεῖο
ἠὲ κατ’ αἶσαν ἔειπον ἐν ὑμῖν, ἦε καὶ οὐκί.»
Τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη κρατερὸς Διομήδης·
«μὴ δή μοι φύξίν γε Δόλων ἐμβάλλεο θυμῷ·
ἐσθλά περ ἀγγείλας, ἐπεὶ ἵκεο χεῖρας ἐς ἁμάς.
εἰ μὲν γάρ κέ σε νῦν ἀπολύσομεν ἠὲ μεθῶμεν,
ἦ τε καὶ ὕστερον εἶσθα θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν,
ἠὲ διοπτεύσων ἢ ἐναντίβιον πολεμίξων·
εἰ δέ κ’ ἐμῇς ὑπὸ χερσὶ δαμεὶς ἀπὸ θυμὸν ὀλέσσης,
οὐκέτ’ ἔπειτα σὺ πῆμά ποτ’ ἔσσεαι Ἀργείοισιν.»
Ἦ, καὶ ὁ μέν μιν ἔμελλε γενείου χειρὶ παχείῃ

ἁψάμενος λίσσεσθαι, ὁ δ’ αὐχένα μέσσον ἔλασσε
φασγάνῳ ἀΐξας, ἀπὸ δ’ ἄμφω κέρσε τένοντε·
φθεγγομένου δ’ ἄρα τοῦ γε κάρη κονίῃσιν ἐμίχθη.
τοῦ δ’ ἀπὸ μὲν κτιδέην κυνέην κεφαλῆφιν ἕλοντο
καὶ λυκέην καὶ τόξα παλίντονα καὶ δόρυ μακρόν·
καὶ τά γ’ Ἀθηναίῃ ληΐτιδι δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὑψόσ’ ἀνέσχεθε χειρὶ καὶ εὐχόμενος ἔπος ηὔδα·
«χαῖρε θεὰ τοῖσδεσσι· σὲ γὰρ πρώτην ἐν Ὀλύμπῳ
πάντων ἀθανάτων ἐπιδωσόμεθ’· ἀλλὰ καὶ αὖτις
πέμψον ἐπὶ Θρῃκῶν ἀνδρῶν ἵππους τε καὶ εὐνάς.»
Ὣς ἄρ’ ἐφώνησεν, καὶ ἀπὸ ἕθεν ὑψόσ’ ἀείρας
θῆκεν ἀνὰ μυρίκην· δέελον δ’ ἐπὶ σῆμά τ’ ἔθηκε
συμμάρψας δόνακας μυρίκης τ’ ἐριθηλέας ὄζους,
μὴ λάθοι αὖτις ἰόντε θοὴν διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν.
τὼ δὲ βάτην προτέρω διά τ’ ἔντεα καὶ μέλαν αἷμα,
αἶψα δ’ ἐπὶ Θρῃκῶν ἀνδρῶν τέλος ἷξον ἰόντες.
οἱ δ’ εὗδον καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες, ἔντεα δέ σφιν
καλὰ παρ’ αὐτοῖσι χθονὶ κέκλιτο εὖ κατὰ κόσμον
τριστοιχί· παρὰ δέ σφιν ἑκάστῳ δίζυγες ἵπποι.
Ῥῆσος δ’ ἐν μέσῳ εὗδε, παρ’ αὐτῷ δ’ ὠκέες ἵπποι
ἐξ ἐπιδιφριάδος πυμάτης ἱμᾶσι δέδεντο.
τὸν δ’ Ὀδυσεὺς προπάροιθεν ἰδὼν Διομήδεϊ δεῖξεν·
«οὗτός τοι Διόμηδες ἀνήρ, οὗτοι δέ τοι ἵπποι,
οὓς νῶϊν πίφαυσκε Δόλων ὃν ἐπέφνομεν ἡμεῖς.
ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ πρόφερε κρατερὸν μένος· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
ἑστάμεναι μέλεον σὺν τεύχεσιν, ἀλλὰ λύ’ ἵππους·
ἠὲ σύ γ’ ἄνδρας ἔναιρε, μελήσουσιν δ’ ἐμοὶ ἵπποι.»
Ὣς φάτο, τῷ δ’ ἔμπνευσε μένος γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
κτεῖνε δ’ ἐπιστροφάδην· τῶν δὲ στόνος ὄρνυτ’ ἀεικὴς

ἄορι θεινομένων, ἐρυθαίνετο δ’ αἵματι γαῖα.
ὡς δὲ λέων μήλοισιν ἀσημάντοισιν ἐπελθών,
αἴγεσιν ἢ ὀΐεσσι κακὰ φρονέων ἐνορούσῃ,
ὣς μὲν Θρήϊκας ἄνδρας ἐπῴχετο Τυδέος υἱός,
ὄφρα δυώδεκ’ ἔπεφνεν· ἀτὰρ πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς,
ὅν τινα Τυδεΐδης ἄορι πλήξειε παραστάς,
τὸν δ’ Ὀδυσεὺς μετόπισθε λαβὼν ποδὸς ἐξερύσασκε,
τὰ φρονέων κατὰ θυμὸν ὅπως καλλίτριχες ἵπποι
ῥεῖα διέλθοιεν μηδὲ τρομεοίατο θυμῷ
νεκροῖς ἀμβαίνοντες· ἀήθεσσον γὰρ ἔτ’ αὐτῶν.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ βασιλῆα κιχήσατο Τυδέος υἱός,
τὸν τρισκαιδέκατον μελιηδέα θυμὸν ἀπηύρα
ἀσθμαίνοντα· κακὸν γὰρ ὄναρ κεφαλῆφιν ἐπέστη
τὴν νύκτ’ Οἰνεΐδαο πάϊς διὰ μῆτιν Ἀθήνης.
τόφρα δ’ ἄρ’ ὁ τλήμων Ὀδυσεὺς λύε μώνυχας ἵππους,
σὺν δ’ ἤειρεν ἱμᾶσι καὶ ἐξήλαυνεν ὁμίλου
τόξῳ ἐπιπλήσσων, ἐπεὶ οὐ μάστιγα φαεινὴν
ποικίλου ἐκ δίφροιο νοήσατο χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι·
ῥοίζησεν δ’ ἄρα πιφαύσκων Διομήδεϊ δίῳ.
Αὐτὰρ ὃ μερμήριζε μένων ὅ τι κύντατον ἕρδοι,
ἢ ὅ γε δίφρον ἑλών, ὅθι ποικίλα τεύχε’ ἔκειτο,
ῥυμοῦ ἐξερύοι ἢ ἐκφέροι ὑψόσ’ ἀείρας,
ἦ ἔτι τῶν πλεόνων Θρῃκῶν ἀπὸ θυμὸν ἕλοιτο.
εἷος ὃ ταῦθ’ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα, τόφρα δ’ Ἀθήνη
ἐγγύθεν ἱσταμένη προσέφη Διομήδεα δῖον·
«νόστου δὴ μνῆσαι μεγαθύμου Τυδέος υἱὲ
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς, μὴ καὶ πεφοβημένος ἔλθῃς,
μή πού τις καὶ Τρῶας ἐγείρῃσιν θεὸς ἄλλος.»
Ὣς φάθ’, ὁ δὲ ξυνέηκε θεᾶς ὄπα φωνησάσης,
καρπαλίμως δ’ ἵππων ἐπεβήσετο· κόψε δ’ Ὀδυσσεὺς

τόξῳ· τοὶ δ’ ἐπέτοντο θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν.
Οὐδ’ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχ’ ἀργυρότοξος Ἀπόλλων,
ὡς ἴδ’ Ἀθηναίην μετὰ Τυδέος υἱὸν ἕπουσαν·
τῇ κοτέων Τρώων κατεδύσετο πουλὺν ὅμιλον,
ὦρσεν δὲ Θρῃκῶν βουληφόρον Ἱπποκόωντα,
Ῥήσου ἀνεψιὸν ἐσθλόν· ὃ δ’ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνορούσας
ὡς ἴδε χῶρον ἐρῆμον, ὅθ’ ἕστασαν ὠκέες ἵπποι,
ἄνδράς τ’ ἀσπαίροντας ἐν ἀργαλέῃσι φονῇσιν,
ᾤμωξέν τ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτα φίλον τ’ ὀνόμηνεν ἑταῖρον.
Τρώων δὲ κλαγγή τε καὶ ἄσπετος ὦρτο κυδοιμὸς
θυνόντων ἄμυδις· θηεῦντο δὲ μέρμερα ἔργα,
ὅσσ’ ἄνδρες ῥέξαντες ἔβαν κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας.
Οἱ δ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἵκανον ὅθι σκοπὸν Ἕκτορος ἔκταν,
ἔνθ’ Ὀδυσεὺς μὲν ἔρυξε Διῒ φίλος ὠκέας ἵππους,
Τυδεΐδης δὲ χαμᾶζε θορὼν ἔναρα βροτόεντα
ἐν χείρεσσ’ Ὀδυσῆϊ τίθει, ἐπεβήσετο δ’ ἵππων·
μάστιξεν δ’ ἵππους, τὼ δ’ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην
νῆας ἔπι γλαφυράς· τῇ γὰρ φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ.
Νέστωρ δὲ πρῶτος κτύπον ἄϊε φώνησέν τε·
«ὦ φίλοι Ἀργείων ἡγήτορες ἠδὲ μέδοντες,
ψεύσομαι, ἦ ἔτυμον ἐρέω; κέλεται δέ με θυμός.
ἵππων μ’ ὠκυπόδων ἀμφὶ κτύπος οὔατα βάλλει.
αἲ γὰρ δὴ Ὀδυσεύς τε καὶ ὃ κρατερὸς Διομήδης
ὧδ’ ἄφαρ ἐκ Τρώων ἐλασαίατο μώνυχας ἵππους·
ἀλλ’ αἰνῶς δείδοικα κατὰ φρένα μή τι πάθωσιν
Ἀργείων οἳ ἄριστοι ὑπὸ Τρώων ὀρυμαγδοῦ.»
Οὔ πω πᾶν εἴρητο ἔπος ὅτ’ ἄρ’ ἤλυθον αὐτοί.
καί ῥ’ οἳ μὲν κατέβησαν ἐπὶ χθόνα, τοὶ δὲ χαρέντες

δεξιῇ ἠσπάζοντο ἔπεσσί τε μειλιχίοισι·
πρῶτος δ’ ἐξερέεινε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ·
«εἴπ’ ἄγε μ’ ὦ πολύαιν’ Ὀδυσεῦ μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
ὅππως τοῦσδ’ ἵππους λάβετον καταδύντες ὅμιλον
Τρώων, ἦ τίς σφωε πόρεν θεὸς ἀντιβολήσας.
αἰνῶς ἀκτίνεσσιν ἐοικότες ἠελίοιο.
αἰεὶ μὲν Τρώεσσ’ ἐπιμίσγομαι, οὐδέ τί φημι
μιμνάζειν παρὰ νηυσὶ γέρων περ ἐὼν πολεμιστής·
ἀλλ’ οὔ πω τοίους ἵππους ἴδον οὐδὲ νοήσα.
ἀλλά τιν’ ὔμμ’ ὀΐω δόμεναι θεὸν ἀντιάσαντα·
ἀμφοτέρω γὰρ σφῶϊ φιλεῖ νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς
κούρη τ’ αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.»
Τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
«ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
ῥεῖα θεός γ’ ἐθέλων καὶ ἀμείνονας ἠέ περ οἷδε
ἵππους δωρήσαιτ’, ἐπεὶ ἢ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰσιν.
ἵπποι δ’ οἷδε γεραιὲ νεήλυδες οὓς ἐρεείνεις
Θρηΐκιοι· τὸν δέ σφιν ἄνακτ’ ἀγαθὸς Διομήδης
ἔκτανε, πὰρ δ’ ἑτάρους δυοκαίδεκα πάντας ἀρίστους.
τὸν τρισκαιδέκατον σκοπὸν εἵλομεν ἐγγύθι νηῶν,
τόν ῥα διοπτῆρα στρατοῦ ἔμμεναι ἡμετέροιο
Ἕκτωρ τε προέηκε καὶ ἄλλοι Τρῶες ἀγαυοί.»
Ὣς εἰπὼν τάφροιο διήλασε μώνυχας ἵππους
καγχαλόων· ἅμα δ’ ἄλλοι ἴσαν χαίροντες Ἀχαιοί.
οἱ δ’ ὅτε Τυδεΐδεω κλισίην εὔτυκτον ἵκοντο,
ἵππους μὲν κατέδησαν ἐϋτμήτοισιν ἱμᾶσι
φάτνῃ ἐφ’ ἱππείῃ, ὅθι περ Διομήδεος ἵπποι
ἕστασαν ὠκύποδες μελιηδέα πυρὸν ἔδοντες·
νηῒ δ’ ἐνὶ πρυμνῇ ἔναρα βροτόεντα Δόλωνος
θῆκ’ Ὀδυσεύς, ὄφρ’ ἱρὸν ἑτοιμασσαίατ’ Ἀθήνῃ.

αὐτοὶ δ’ ἱδρῶ πολλὸν ἀπενίζοντο θαλάσσῃ
ἐσβάντες κνήμας τε ἰδὲ λόφον ἀμφί τε μηρούς.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί σφιν κῦμα θαλάσσης ἱδρῶ πολλὸν
νίψεν ἀπὸ χρωτὸς καὶ ἀνέψυχθεν φίλον ἦτορ,
ἔς ῥ’ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐϋξέστας λούσαντο.
τὼ δὲ λοεσσαμένω καὶ ἀλειψαμένω λίπ’ ἐλαίῳ
δείπνῳ ἐφιζανέτην, ἀπὸ δὲ κρητῆρος Ἀθήνῃ
πλείου ἀφυσσόμενοι λεῖβον μελιηδέα οἶνον.

THE ILIAD X

The other chieftains of the Panachaeans slept beside their ships, held fast by gentle slumber all the night through; but the son of Atreus, Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, was not held by sweet sleep, for his mind was in great turmoil. As when the husband of fair-tressed Hera sends forth his lightning, preparing either a great torrential downpour, or hail, or a blizzard to whiten the fields with snow, or else the gaping maw of bitter war; so did the groans come thick and fast from Agamemnon’s breast, from the very depths of his heart, and his spirit trembled within him. When he gazed out upon the Trojan plain, he marveled at the many fires burning before the walls of Ilium, and at the sound of flutes and pipes and the great din of men. But when he looked toward the ships and the Achaean host, he tore his hair from his head by the very roots in appeal to Zeus on high, and his noble heart groaned heavily. And this, in his soul, seemed the best counsel: to seek out Nestor, son of Neleus, first among men, to see if together they might fashion some faultless plan that could ward off disaster from all the Danaans. He rose and drew a tunic about his chest, and beneath his shining feet he bound his fine sandals. Then he flung around himself the tawny hide of a great, fiery lion that reached his feet, and took up his spear. In like manner, a trembling seized Menelaus, for on his eyelids too no sleep would settle, lest some harm should befall the Argives, who for his sake had crossed the wide, watery ways to Troy, stirring up bold warfare. First, he covered his broad back with a dappled panther’s skin; then he lifted a bronze helmet and placed it upon his head, and grasped a spear in his powerful hand. He went then to rouse his brother, who held mighty command over all the Argives and was honored by the people as a god. He found him by the stern of his ship, putting his fine armor about his shoulders; and his coming was a welcome sight. Menelaus, good at the war cry, was the first to speak: “Why do you arm yourself so, my brother? Are you sending one of our comrades to spy on the Trojans? I greatly fear that no one will undertake such a task, to go out alone and spy on our enemy in the ambrosial night. Such a man would need a truly valiant heart.” To this, the lord Agamemnon replied: “There is need of cunning counsel for us both, O Menelaus, cherished of Zeus, counsel that will protect and save the Argives and our ships, since the mind of Zeus has turned against us. It seems he has set his heart upon Hector’s sacrifices more than ours. For I have never seen, nor heard tell, of a single man devising so much ruin in a single day as Hector, dear to Zeus, has wrought upon the sons of the Achaeans, and he the son of no god or goddess. He has done deeds that I think will be a source of long and lasting sorrow for the Argives, so many are the evils he has devised against the Achaeans. But go now, run swiftly to the ships and call Ajax and Idomeneus. I shall go to the godlike Nestor and urge him to rise, if he is willing to visit the sacred company of the watchmen and give them their orders. They would obey him above all others, for his own son, along with Meriones, attendant to Idomeneus, is in command of the watch; it was to them that we entrusted this charge most of all.” Then Menelaus, good at the war cry, answered him: “What then is your command, and what your bidding? Shall I stay there with them, waiting until you come, or shall I run back to you once I have properly delivered your orders?” And Agamemnon, king of men, replied to him in turn: “Wait there, lest we should miss each other as we go, for there are many paths through the camp. Call out wherever you go and bid the men to be watchful, addressing each one by his name and his father’s lineage, giving all men their due honor. Do not be haughty in your heart, but let us share in the labor ourselves, for Zeus, I believe, laid this heavy affliction upon us even at our birth.” So he spoke, and having given his brother careful instructions, he sent him on his way. He himself then set out to find Nestor, shepherd of the people. He found him beside his hut and his black ship, lying on a soft bed; and beside him lay his intricate armor: a shield, two spears, and a gleaming helmet. Near him also lay a richly embroidered belt, which the old man would gird himself with when he armed for man-destroying war to lead his people, for he yielded not to grim old age. He raised himself on his elbow, lifting his head, and addressed the son of Atreus, questioning him with these words: “Who are you, who comes alone through the camp and by the ships in the murky night, when other mortals are asleep? Are you searching for one of your sentinels, or one of your comrades? Speak, and do not approach me in silence. What is your need?” Then Agamemnon, king of men, answered him: “O Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, you will recognize Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whom Zeus above all others has plunged into unending trials, so long as breath remains in my chest and my knees have strength to move. I wander thus because sweet sleep does not settle on my eyes, but the war and the sorrows of the Achaeans weigh upon my mind. I am terribly afraid for the Danaans, and my heart is not steady, but I am distraught; it leaps from my breast, and my strong limbs tremble beneath me. But if you have any plan, since sleep has not found you either, let us go down to the sentinels, so that we may see if they, worn out by toil and sleep, have fallen into slumber and forgotten their duty to keep watch. Our enemies are encamped nearby, and we do not know if they may be planning to attack even by night.” Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, then answered him: “Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, surely counselor Zeus will not bring to pass all the thoughts that Hector now harbors in his mind. I believe he will face even greater troubles if Achilles should ever turn his own heart from his grievous wrath. I will gladly accompany you; and let us also rouse others: Diomedes, famed for his spear, and Odysseus, and the swift Ajax, and the valiant son of Phyleus. But it would be well if someone else went to summon the godlike Ajax and King Idomeneus, for their ships are the furthest away, and not at all near. As for Menelaus, dear and honored though he is, I must chide him, even if it angers you, and I will not hide it, for sleeping so, and leaving you to toil alone. He ought to be laboring now among all the chieftains, entreating them, for a need has come upon us that can no longer be borne.” And Agamemnon, king of men, spoke to him in turn: “Old friend, at other times I would encourage you to blame him, for he is often neglectful and unwilling to exert himself, not from sloth or foolishness of mind, but because he looks to me and awaits my lead. But this time he awoke long before me and came to my side; I have already sent him to summon those you seek. But let us go. We shall find them before the gates with the sentinels, for that is where I told them to assemble.” Then Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, answered him: “If that is so, no Argive will resent him or disobey when he urges them on and gives them orders.” With these words, he drew a tunic about his chest, and beneath his shining feet he bound his fine sandals. Then he fastened about him a great purple cloak, double-lined and flowing, with a thick nap of wool upon it. He took up a valiant spear, tipped with sharp bronze, and set out along the ships of the bronze-clad Achaeans. First, Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, roused Odysseus, the peer of Zeus in counsel, from his sleep with a call. The sound went straight to his heart, and he came forth from his hut and spoke to them: “Why do you wander so, alone through the camp and by the ships in the ambrosial night? What great need has arisen?” Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, answered him: “Odysseus, son of Laertes, scion of Zeus, man of many devices, do not be angry, for a great sorrow has befallen the Achaeans. But follow us, so that we may awaken another, who is fit to deliberate on whether we should flee or fight.” So he spoke, and the resourceful Odysseus went back into his hut, slung his ornate shield over his shoulders, and followed them. Then they went to Diomedes, son of Tydeus, and found him outside his hut with his arms; his comrades slept around him, with their shields beneath their heads. Their spears were driven into the ground by their butt-spikes, and the bronze glittered from afar like the lightning of father Zeus. The hero himself was asleep, a hide of a field-dwelling ox spread beneath him, while under his head a bright tapestry was stretched. Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, stood beside him and woke him, stirring him with a touch of his foot, and urged him on with sharp words: “Wake up, son of Tydeus! Why do you indulge in sleep the whole night through? Do you not hear how the Trojans are encamped on the rise of the plain, close to our ships, with but a small space now keeping them from us?” So he spoke, and the other sprang up swiftly from his sleep, and finding his voice, addressed him with winged words: “You are a hard man, old friend; you never cease from toil. Are there not other, younger sons of the Achaeans who might go about and awaken each of the kings? But you, old friend, are indefatigable.” And Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, spoke to him in turn: “Yes, my friend, all you have said is true. I have faultless sons, and I have many men, any of whom could go and summon the others. But a great need has come upon the Achaeans. Our fate now stands on a razor’s edge for all: either ruin most dire for the Achaeans, or life. But go now, since you are younger, and if you pity me, rouse the swift Ajax and the son of Phyleus.” So he spoke, and the other slung over his shoulders the hide of a great, fiery lion that reached his feet, and took up his spear. He went on his way, and rousing the men from where they were, he brought them with him. When they came to the assembled company of the sentinels, they did not find their leaders sleeping, but all were sitting watchfully with their arms. As hounds keep an uneasy guard around the sheep in a fold, having heard a powerful beast that comes down from the mountains through the woods, and a great clamor of men and dogs pursues it, and sleep is lost to them; so was sweet sleep lost to the sentinels’ eyes as they kept their watch through the evil night. For they turned ever toward the plain, whenever they heard the Trojans advancing. The old man was glad to see them, and he heartened them with his words, and raising his voice he spoke to them with winged words: “Keep watch thus, my dear children, and let sleep take hold of none of you, lest we become a cause for rejoicing to our enemies.” So saying, he strode across the trench, and with him followed the kings of the Argives who had been summoned to the council. Meriones and Nestor’s glorious son went with them also, for they themselves had called them to share in their counsel. Crossing the dug trench, they sat down in a clear space where the ground was free of the bodies of the fallen, the spot from which mighty Hector had turned back after destroying the Argives, when night had enveloped them. There they sat and exchanged words with one another, and Nestor, the Gerenian horseman, was the first to speak among them: “My friends, is there no man who would trust in his own daring heart to go among the great-souled Trojans? He might capture some enemy straggler, or perhaps even learn some rumor among the Trojans, what they are plotting among themselves: whether they mean to stay here by the ships, far from their city, or whether they will withdraw to the city again, now that they have bested the Achaeans. If he could learn all this and return to us unscathed, his glory would be great under heaven among all men, and he would receive a worthy gift. For each of the lords who command our ships will give him a black ewe with a lamb at her breast—a prize with no equal— and he will always have a place at our feasts and banquets.” So he spoke, and they all fell silent. Then Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke among them: “Nestor, my heart and my proud spirit urge me to enter the camp of our enemies, the Trojans, who are so near. But if another man were to go with me, it would be of more comfort and give me greater courage. When two go together, one sees a path to advantage before the other; but a man alone, though he may have a thought, his mind is slower and his counsel thin.” So he spoke, and many were willing to go with Diomedes. The two Aiantes, servants of Ares, were willing; Meriones was willing, and Nestor’s son was very willing; the son of Atreus, Menelaus famed for his spear, was also willing; and the steadfast Odysseus was willing to enter the Trojan throng, for his heart was ever daring within his breast. And Agamemnon, king of men, spoke among them: “Diomedes, son of Tydeus, dear to my heart, choose the companion you desire, the best of those who have shown themselves, for many are eager. And do not, out of deference in your heart, leave the better man behind and take the worse as your comrade, yielding to modesty and looking to his birth, not even if he is more of a king.” So he spoke, for he feared for the fair-haired Menelaus. But Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke again among them: “If you indeed bid me to choose a companion myself, how then could I forget the godlike Odysseus, whose heart is so willing and whose spirit so proud in all manner of toils, and whom Pallas Athena loves. With him at my side, we could return even from a burning fire, for he excels all others in judgment.” And the much-enduring, godlike Odysseus answered him in turn: “Son of Tydeus, praise me not overmuch, nor chide me at all; you speak of these things among Argives who already know them. But let us go, for the night is far spent, and dawn is near. The stars have moved onward, and more than two parts of the night have passed; only the third part is left to us.” So they spoke, and girded themselves in their grim armor. The steadfast Thrasymedes gave the son of Tydeus a two-edged sword—his own was left by his ship— and a shield. On his head he placed a bull’s-hide helmet, without crest or plume, which is called a skullcap and protects the heads of vigorous young warriors. Meriones gave Odysseus a bow and a quiver and a sword, and on his head he placed a helmet made of leather; on the inside, it was tightly strung with many thongs, and on the outside, the white tusks of a gleaming-tusked boar were set close together here and there, skillfully and well. In the middle, a felt lining was fixed. This was the helmet that Autolycus once stole from Eleon, breaking into the stout house of Amyntor, son of Ormenus; he then gave it to Amphidamas of Cythera to take to Scandeia, and Amphidamas gave it to Molus as a guest-gift, who in turn gave it to his son Meriones to wear. And now, it was placed upon Odysseus’s head, fitting it snugly. When the two were arrayed in their grim armor, they set out, leaving all the chieftains behind. And Pallas Athena sent a heron for them, on the right, near their path. They did not see it with their eyes through the murky night, but they heard its cry. Odysseus rejoiced at the sign of the bird and prayed to Athena: “Hear me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, you who always stand by me in all my trials, and I am never hidden from you when I move. Now again, Athena, be my friend above all, and grant that we may return to the ships in glory, having accomplished a great deed that will bring sorrow to the Trojans.” Second after him, Diomedes, good at the war cry, prayed: “Hear me now also, child of Zeus, the Unweariable. Be with me as you were with my father, the godlike Tydeus, when he went as a messenger before the Achaeans to Thebes. He left the bronze-clad Achaeans by the river Asopus and carried a gentle message to the Cadmeans there; but on his way back he devised deeds of great daring with you, divine goddess, when you stood by him with your favor. So now, be willing to stand by me and protect me. And in return I will sacrifice to you a broad-browed yearling heifer, unbroken, which no man has yet brought under the yoke. Her I will sacrifice to you, pouring gold over her horns.” So they spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard them. And when they had prayed to the daughter of great Zeus, they set out like two lions through the black night, through slaughter and through corpses, through armor and black blood. Nor did Hector allow the proud Trojans to sleep, but he summoned all the chieftains together at once, all who were leaders and counselors of the Trojans. And having called them together, he framed a cunning plan: “Who will undertake this deed for me and accomplish it for a great reward? His payment shall be sufficient. For I will give a chariot and two high-arched horses, the best that are by the swift ships of the Achaeans, to the man who dares—and wins glory for himself as well— to go near the swift-faring ships and learn whether they are guarded as before, or whether our enemies, now broken by our hands, are planning flight among themselves and are no longer willing to keep watch through the night, worn down as they are by dreadful weariness.” So he spoke, and they all fell silent. But there was a man among the Trojans named Dolon, son of Eumedes, the divine herald, a man rich in gold and bronze. He was ugly in form, but swift of foot; and he was the only brother among five sisters. It was he who then spoke to the Trojans and to Hector: “Hector, my heart and my proud spirit urge me to go near the swift-faring ships and find out what is needed. But come, lift up your scepter and swear an oath to me that you will indeed give me the horses and the chariot, wrought with bronze, that carry the peerless son of Peleus. I will not be a fruitless spy for you, nor one to fail your expectations. For I will go straight through the camp until I reach the ship of Agamemnon, where the chieftains are likely to be deliberating whether to flee or to fight.” So he spoke, and Hector took the scepter in his hands and swore the oath to him: “Let Zeus himself be my witness, the loud-thundering husband of Hera, that no other man of the Trojans shall ride behind those horses, but you alone, I say, shall have glory in them forever.” So he spoke, and swore a false oath, but it spurred the man on. At once Dolon slung his curved bow over his shoulders, and on the outside he put on the hide of a grey wolf, and on his head a cap of marten-skin. He took up a sharp javelin and set out from the camp toward the ships; but he was not destined to return from the ships to bring his report to Hector. When he had left the throng of horses and men behind, he went eagerly along the path. The scion of Zeus, Odysseus, marked him as he approached, and spoke to Diomedes: “There is a man, Diomedes, coming from the camp. I do not know whether he is a spy upon our ships, or means to plunder one of the corpses of the slain. Let us first allow him to pass a little way into the plain; then we can rush upon him and seize him quickly. If he should outrun us with his speed, we must always herd him toward the ships and away from his own camp, pressing him with our spears, lest he should somehow escape toward the city.” So they spoke, and turned aside from the path to lie down among the dead bodies; and he, in his folly, ran swiftly past them. But when he was about as far away as the length of a mule’s furrow— for they are better than oxen at pulling the jointed plough through deep fallow land— the two ran after him, and he stopped when he heard the sound. He thought in his heart that comrades were coming from the Trojan lines to call him back, on Hector’s orders. But when they were a spear’s cast away, or even less, he knew them for enemies and set his nimble knees to flight, and they at once gave chase. As when two sharp-toothed hounds, skilled in the hunt, press hard upon a fawn or a hare relentlessly through a wooded place, and it runs on before them, crying, so did the son of Tydeus and Odysseus, sacker of cities, cut him off from his people and pursue him relentlessly. But just as he was about to mingle with the sentinels in his flight toward the ships, Athena put fresh strength into the son of Tydeus, so that none of the bronze-clad Achaeans might boast of striking him first, and he come in second. Rushing upon him with his spear, the mighty Diomedes called out: “Stop, or I will strike you with my spear, and I do not think you will long escape sheer destruction at my hand.” He spoke, and cast his spear, but he missed the man deliberately. The point of the polished spear flew over his right shoulder and fixed itself in the ground. The man stood still, terrified and stammering, and the chatter of his teeth could be heard through his mouth, pale with terror. The two came upon him, panting, and seized his hands, and he spoke to them in tears: “Take me alive, and I will ransom myself. I have bronze and gold and skillfully wrought iron in my house, and my father would grant you a boundless ransom from these stores if he were to learn that I am alive at the ships of the Achaeans.” The resourceful Odysseus answered him: “Take heart, and let no thought of death be in your mind. But come, tell me this and tell me truly: where are you going, alone, from your camp toward our ships in the murky night, when other mortals are asleep? Is it to plunder one of the corpses of the slain? Or did Hector send you to spy on everything at our hollow ships? Or did your own heart urge you on?” And Dolon answered him, his limbs trembling beneath him: “Hector led me astray from my right mind with many follies. He promised to give me the single-hoofed horses of the noble son of Peleus and his chariot wrought with bronze, and he bade me go through the swift, dark night to draw near the enemy and learn whether the swift ships are guarded as before, or whether you, now broken by our hands, are planning flight among yourselves and are no longer willing to keep watch through the night, worn down by dreadful weariness.” The resourceful Odysseus smiled and said to him: “Indeed, your heart longed for great gifts, the horses of the warlike descendant of Aeacus. But they are difficult for mortal men to master or to drive, for any other than Achilles, whom an immortal mother bore. But come, tell me this and tell me truly: where did you leave Hector, shepherd of the people, when you came here? Where lies his armor of war, and where are his horses? And what of the other Trojans’ watches and their sleeping places? What are they plotting among themselves? Do they mean to stay here by the ships, far from their city, or will they withdraw to the city again, now that they have bested the Achaeans?” And Dolon, son of Eumedes, spoke to him in turn: “Indeed, I will tell you all these things most truly. Hector is with those who are counselors, holding council beside the tomb of the godlike Ilus, away from the din. As for the watches you ask about, hero, no chosen guard protects or watches over the army. Wherever the hearths of the Trojans burn, there they are under necessity to stay awake and bid one another keep guard. But the allies, summoned from many lands, are sleeping; they leave the watching to the Trojans, for their own children and wives are not near.” Then the resourceful Odysseus, answering him, said: “And how do they sleep? Mingled with the horse-taming Trojans, or apart? Tell me, so that I may know.” And Dolon, son of Eumedes, replied: “Indeed, I will tell you this also most truly. Toward the sea lie the Carians and the Paeonians with their curved bows, and the Leleges and Caucones and the godlike Pelasgians. Toward Thymbra are arrayed the Lycians and the proud Mysians and the Phrygian horsemen and the Maeonian charioteers. But why do you question me on each of these things? For if you are truly eager to enter the Trojan throng, the Thracians are here, newly come, apart from the others at the far end of the line. And among them is their king, Rhesus, son of Eioneus. I have seen his horses, the most beautiful and the largest, whiter than snow and swift as the winds. His chariot is finely wrought with gold and silver, and he came wearing golden armor, enormous and a marvel to behold, which seems not fit for mortal men to wear, but for the immortal gods. But for now, either take me to your swift-faring ships, or bind me here and leave me in a cruel bond, so that you may go and put my words to the test, to see whether I have spoken to you truly or not.” Then the mighty Diomedes looked at him grimly and said: “Do not even let the thought of escape enter your mind, Dolon, though you have brought good tidings, now that you have come into our hands. For if we were to release you or let you go now, you would surely come back later to the swift ships of the Achaeans, either to spy or to fight against us. But if, subdued by my hands, you lose your life, you will be no further trouble to the Argives.” He spoke, and as the other was about to reach out with his strong hand to touch his chin and beg for his life, Diomedes lunged with his sword and struck him square on the neck, and severed both the tendons. And as he was still trying to speak, his head fell in the dust. From him they took the marten-skin cap from his head, the wolf’s hide, the back-sprung bow, and the long spear. And godlike Odysseus held these up high in his hand for Athena, the bringer of spoils, and prayed, saying: “Rejoice, goddess, in these things. For you, first of all the immortals on Olympus, shall we call upon. But guide us once more to the horses and the sleeping places of the men of Thrace.” So he spoke, and lifting the spoils high, he placed them on a tamarisk tree and made a clear marker, gathering reeds and the long, flowering branches of the tamarisk, so they would not miss it on their way back through the swift, dark night. Then the two went onward through the armor and the black blood, and soon they came upon the company of the Thracian men. They were sleeping, worn out by their toil, and their fine armor lay beside them on the ground, in good order, in three rows. Beside each man was his pair of horses. Rhesus slept in the middle, and beside him his swift horses were tethered by the reins to the rear rail of his chariot. Odysseus saw him first and pointed him out to Diomedes: “This is the man, Diomedes, and these are the horses, that Dolon, whom we killed, described to us. But come now, put forth your great strength. It is no time for you to stand idly with your weapons. Untie the horses; or else, you kill the men, and the horses will be my concern.” So he spoke, and grey-eyed Athena breathed strength into Diomedes, and he began to kill them on all sides. A dreadful groaning arose from the men as they were struck by the sword, and the earth ran red with blood. As a lion comes upon an unguarded flock of goats or sheep and springs upon them with evil intent, so did the son of Tydeus move among the Thracian men, until he had slain twelve. And the resourceful Odysseus, standing by, would seize by the foot whomever the son of Tydeus struck with his sword and pull him aside, with this thought in his mind: that the fair-maned horses might pass through easily and not be frightened in their hearts by treading on the dead, for they were not yet used to them. But when the son of Tydeus reached the king, he took from him, the thirteenth, his honey-sweet life as he gasped for breath; for an evil dream had stood over his head that night, the son of Oeneus, through the design of Athena. Meanwhile, the steadfast Odysseus untied the single-hoofed horses, bound them together with the reins, and drove them from the throng, striking them with his bow, since he had not thought to take the gleaming whip from the ornate chariot with his hands. Then he whistled as a sign to the godlike Diomedes. But Diomedes lingered, debating what more reckless deed he might do: whether he should take the chariot where the ornate armor lay and drag it out by the pole or lift it high and carry it off, or whether he should take the lives of yet more of the Thracians. While he was pondering these things in his mind, Athena stood near and spoke to the godlike Diomedes: “Think now of your return, son of great-hearted Tydeus, to the hollow ships, lest you go in flight, and some other god should rouse the Trojans.” So she spoke, and he understood the voice of the goddess who had spoken, and he quickly mounted the horses. Odysseus struck them with his bow, and they sped toward the swift ships of the Achaeans. Nor was Apollo of the silver bow keeping a blind watch. He saw Athena accompanying the son of Tydeus, and in anger at her, he plunged into the great throng of the Trojans and roused Hippocoön, a counselor of the Thracians, and a noble cousin of Rhesus. Leaping up from sleep, he saw the empty space where the swift horses had stood, and the men gasping in their death throes, and he let out a groan and called his dear comrade by name. A cry and a terrible clamor arose from the Trojans as they rushed together, and they gazed at the dreadful deeds, the men had done before they returned to the hollow ships. When the two came to the place where they had killed Hector’s spy, Odysseus, dear to Zeus, reined in the swift horses. The son of Tydeus leaped to the ground and placed the blood-stained spoils in Odysseus’s hands, then mounted the horses again. He struck them with the whip, and the two flew on, not unwillingly, toward the hollow ships, for there their hearts wished to be. Nestor was the first to hear the sound and he spoke: “My friends, leaders and counselors of the Argives, am I wrong, or am I speaking the truth? My heart commands me to say it. The sound of swift-footed horses strikes my ears. I pray that it is Odysseus and the mighty Diomedes driving single-hoofed horses so quickly from the Trojans. But I am terribly afraid in my heart that these bravest of the Argives have suffered some harm from the Trojan tumult.” The words were not yet all spoken when the men themselves arrived. They dismounted to the ground, and their friends, overjoyed, greeted them with handshakes and with gentle words. The first to question them was Nestor, the Gerenian horseman: “Tell me now, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, how did you take these horses? Did you enter the Trojan throng, or did some god meet you and give them to you? They are wondrously like the rays of the sun. I am always among the Trojans—I do not claim to linger by the ships, old warrior that I am— but I have never seen or noticed horses such as these. I think some god must have met you and given them to you, for cloud-gathering Zeus loves you both, as does the daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, grey-eyed Athena.” And the resourceful Odysseus answered him: “O Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, a god, if he so wished, could easily give even better horses than these, since the gods are far stronger. But these horses, old friend, about which you ask, are newly come from Thrace. The good Diomedes killed their master, and beside him twelve of his comrades, all of them chieftains. A thirteenth man, a spy, we took near the ships, whom Hector and the other proud Trojans sent forth to be a scout of our army.” So saying, he drove the single-hoofed horses across the trench, exulting, and the other Achaeans went with him, rejoicing. When they came to the well-built hut of the son of Tydeus, they tied the horses with well-cut thongs to the horse-manger, where the swift-footed horses of Diomedes stood eating their honey-sweet grain. In the stern of his ship, Odysseus placed the bloody spoils of Dolon, until they could prepare them as a sacred offering to Athena. As for themselves, they went into the sea and washed away the thick sweat from their shins and necks and thighs. And when the waves of the sea had washed the thick sweat from their skin and their hearts were refreshed, they went into polished tubs and bathed. And having bathed and anointed themselves with rich olive oil, they sat down to their meal, and from a full mixing-bowl they drew off honey-sweet wine and poured it as a libation to Athena.

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