To mount the chariot; I will meet the foe Just as I am. Minerva will not let My spirit falter. Ne’er shall those swift steeds Bear the two warriors hence—if even one Escapes me. One thing more have I to say; And keep it well in mind. Should Pallas deign— The wise, forecasting Pallas—to bestow On me the glory of o’ercoming both, Stop thy swift horses, and tie fast the reins To our own chariot, and make haste to seize The horses of Aeneas, guiding them Hence from the Trojan to the Grecian host; For they are of the stock which Jupiter The Thunderer gave to Tros. It was the price He paid for Ganymede, and they, of all Beneath the eye of morning and the sun, Are of the choicest breed. The king of men, Anchises, stealthily and unobserved, Brought to the coursers of Laomedon His brood-mare, and obtained the race. Six colts, Their offspring, in his courts were foaled. Of these, Four for himself he kept, and in his stalls Reared them, and two of them, both apt for war, He gave Aeneas. If we make them ours, The exploit will bring us honor and renown.”
Thus they conferred. Meantime their foes drew near, Urging their fiery coursers on, and first Lycaon’s eminent son addressed the Greek:—
“My weapon, swift and sharp, the arrow, failed To slay thee; let me try the javelin now, And haply that, at least, may reach its mark.”
He spake, and, brandishing his massive spear, Hurled it against the shield of Diomed. The brazen point broke through, and reached the mail. Then shouted with loud voice Lycaon’s son:—
“Ha! Thou art wounded in thy flank; my spear Bites deep; nor long, I think, canst thou survive, And great will be my glory gained from thee.”
But thus the valiant Diomed replied. Incapable of fear: “Thy thought is wrong. I am not wounded, and I well perceive That ye will never give the conflict o’er Till one of you, laid low amid the dust, Pour out his blood to glut the god of war.”