From sleep, Ulysses; the alarm came o’er
His startled ear, forth from his tent he sprang
Sudden, and of their coming, quick, inquired. 165

    Why roam ye thus the camp and fleet alone

In darkness? by what urgent need constrain’d? 

    To whom the hoary Pylian thus replied. 

Laertes’ noble son, for wiles renown’d! 
Resent it not, for dread is our distress. 170
Come, therefore, and assist us to convene
Yet others, qualified to judge if war
Be most expedient, or immediate flight. 

    He ended, and regaining, quick, his tent,

Ulysses slung his shield, then coming forth 175
Join’d them.  The son of Tydeus first they sought. 
Him sleeping arm’d before his tent they found,
Encompass’d by his friends also asleep;
His head each rested on his shield, and each
Had planted on its nether point[4] erect 180
His spear beside him; bright their polish’d heads,
As Jove’s own lightning glittered from afar. 
Himself, the Hero, slept.  A wild bull’s hide
Was spread beneath him, and on arras tinged
With splendid purple lay his head reclined. 185
Nestor, beside him standing, with his heel
Shook him, and, urgent, thus the Chief reproved. 

    Awake, Tydides! wherefore givest the night

Entire to balmy slumber?  Hast not heard
How on the rising ground beside the fleet 190
The Trojans sit, small interval between? 

    He ceased; then up sprang Diomede alarm’d

Instant, and in wing’d accents thus replied. 

    Old wakeful Chief! thy toils are never done. 

Are there not younger of the sons of Greece, 195
Who ranging in all parts the camp, might call
The Kings to council?  But no curb controls
Or can abate activity like thine. 

    To whom Gerenian Nestor in return. 

My friend! thou hast well spoken.  I have sons, 200
And they are well deserving; I have here
A numerous people also, one of whom
Might have sufficed to call the Kings of Greece. 
But such occasion presses now the host
As hath not oft occurr’d; the overthrow 205
Complete, or full deliverance of us all,
In balance hangs, poised on a razor’s edge. 
But haste, and if thy pity of my toils
Be such, since thou art younger, call, thyself,
Ajax the swift, and Meges to the guard. 210

    Then Diomede a lion’s tawny skin

Around him wrapp’d, dependent to his heels,
And, spear in hand, set forth.  The Hero call’d
Those two, and led them whither Nestor bade. 

    They, at the guard arrived, not sleeping found 215

The captains of the guard, but sitting all
In vigilant posture with their arms prepared. 
As dogs that, careful, watch the fold by night,