Or haply less, he saw that they were foes, And moved his nimble knees, and turned to flee, While rapidly they followed. As two hounds, Sharp-toothed, and trained to track their prey, pursue Through forest-grounds some fawn or hare that runs Before them panting, so did Diomed And terrible Ulysses without stop Follow the fugitive, to cut him off From his own people. In his flight he came Where soon he would have mingled with the guards, Close to the fleet. Then Pallas breathed new strength Into Tydides, that no other Greek Might boast that he had wounded Dolon first, And steal the honor. Therefore, with his spear Uplifted, Diomed rushed on and spake:—
“Stop, or my spear o’ertakes thee, nor wilt thou Escape a certain death from this right hand.”
He spake, and hurled his spear—but not to smite— At Dolon, over whose right shoulder passed The polished weapon, and, descending, pierced The ground. Then Dolon, pale and fear-struck, stopped, And quaked, with chattering teeth and stammering speech. They, breathless with the chase, came up and seized His hands,