Our fleet into the waves, that we may give
  Our too successful foes their full desire,
  And that our own prepondering scale 115
  May plunge us past all hope; for while they draw
  Their galleys down, the Grecians shall but ill
  Sustain the fight, seaward will cast their eyes
  And shun the battle, bent on flight alone. 
  Then, shall they rue thy counsel, King of men! 120
    To whom the imperial leader of the Greeks. 
  Thy sharp reproof, Ulysses, hath my soul
  Pierced deeply.  Yet I gave no such command
  That the Achaians should their galleys launch,
  Would they, or would they not.  No.  I desire 125
  That young or old, some other may advice
  More prudent give, and he shall please me well. 
    Then thus the gallant Diomede replied. 
  That man is near, and may ye but be found
  Tractable, our inquiry shall be short. 130
  Be patient each, nor chide me nor reproach
  Because I am of greener years than ye,
  For I am sprung from an illustrious Sire,
  From Tydeus, who beneath his hill of earth
  Lies now entomb’d at Thebes.  Three noble sons 135
  Were born to Portheus, who in Pleuro dwelt,
  And on the heights of Calydon; the first
  Agrius; the second Melas; and the third
  Brave Oeneus, father of my father, famed
  For virtuous qualities above the rest. 140
  Oeneus still dwelt at home; but wandering thence
  My father dwelt in Argos; so the will
  Of Jove appointed, and of all the Gods. 
  There he espoused the daughter of the King
  Adrastus, occupied a mansion rich 145
  In all abundance; many a field possess’d
  Of wheat, well-planted gardens, numerous flocks,
  And was expert in spearmanship esteem’d
  Past all the Grecians.  I esteem’d it right
  That ye should hear these things, for they are true. 150
  Ye will not, therefore, as I were obscure
  And of ignoble origin, reject
  What I shall well advise.  Expedience bids
  That, wounded as we are, we join the host. 
  We will preserve due distance from the range 155
  Of spears and arrows, lest already gall’d,
  We suffer worse; but we will others urge
  To combat, who have stood too long aloof,
  Attentive only to their own repose. 
    He spake, whom all approved, and forth they went, 160
  Imperial Agamemnon at their head. 
    Nor watch’d the glorious Shaker of the shores
  In vain, but like a man time-worn approach’d,
  And, seizing Agamemnon’s better hand,
  In accents wing’d the monarch thus address’d. 165
    Atrides! now exults the vengeful heart
  Of fierce Achilles, viewing at his ease
  The flight and slaughter of Achaia’s host;
  For he is mad, and let him perish such,