He spake. Ulysses, mighty with the spear, Came near and stood before him while he sat Concealed, and drew the arrow from his foot. Keen was the agony that suddenly Shot through his frame: he leaped into his car, And bade his charioteer make haste to reach The roomy ships: the pain had reached his heart. Ulysses, the great spearman, now was left Alone, no Greek remaining by his side; For fear had seized them all. With inward grief The hero thus addressed his mighty soul:⁠—

“What will become of me? A great disgrace Will overtake me if I flee in fear Before this multitude; and worse will be My fate if I am taken here alone, While Jove has driven away the other Greeks In terror. Why these questions, since I know That cowards skulk from combat, while the brave, Wounded or wounding others, keeps his ground?”