Gasping around him, sounded loud the name
Of his loved Rhesus.  Instant, at the voice,
Wild stir arose and clamorous uproar
Of fast-assembling Trojans.  Deeds they saw—­ 620
Terrible deeds, and marvellous perform’d,
But not their authors—­they had sought the ships. 

    Meantime arrived where they had slain the spy

Of Hector, there Ulysses, dear to Jove,
The coursers stay’d, and, leaping to the ground, 625
The son of Tydeus in Ulysses’ hands
The arms of Dolon placed foul with his blood,
Then vaulted light into his seat again. 
He lash’d the steeds, they, not unwilling, flew
To the deep-bellied barks, as to their home. 630
First Nestor heard the sound, and thus he said. 

    Friends!  Counsellors! and leaders of the Greeks! 

False shall I speak, or true?—­but speak I must. 
The echoing sound of hoofs alarms my ear. 
Oh, that Ulysses, and brave Diomede 635
This moment might arrive drawn into camp
By Trojan steeds!  But, ah, the dread I feel! 
Lest some disaster have for ever quell’d
In yon rude host those noblest of the Greeks. 

    He hath not ended, when themselves arrived, 640

Both quick dismounted; joy at their return
Fill’d every bosom; each with kind salute
Cordial, and right-hand welcome greeted them,
And first Gerenian Nestor thus inquired. 

    Oh Chief by all extoll’d, glory of Greece, 645

Ulysses! how have ye these steeds acquired? 
In yonder host? or met ye as ye went
Some God who gave them to you? for they show
A lustre dazzling as the beams of day. 
Old as I am, I mingle yet in fight 650
With Ilium’s sons—­lurk never in the fleet—­
Yet saw I at no time, or have remark’d
Steeds such as these; which therefore I believe
Perforce, that ye have gained by gift divine;
For cloud-assembler Jove, and azure-eyed 655
Minerva, Jove’s own daughter, love you both. 

    To whom Ulysses, thus, discreet, replied. 

Neleian Nestor, glory of the Greeks! 
A God, so willing, could have given us steeds
Superior, for their bounty knows no bounds. 660
But, venerable Chief! these which thou seest
Are Thracians new-arrived.  Their master lies
Slain by the valiant Diomede, with twelve
The noblest of his warriors at his side,
A thirteenth[20] also, at small distance hence 665
We slew, by Hector and the Chiefs of Troy
Sent to inspect the posture of our host. 

    He said; then, high in exultation, drove

The coursers o’er the trench, and with him pass’d
The glad Achaians; at the spacious tent 670
Of Diomede arrived, with even thongs
They tied them at the cribs where stood the steeds