Then arose The valiant son of Tydeus, Diomed, And led beneath the yoke the Trojan steeds Won from Aeneas when Apollo saved That chief from death. The son of Atreus next, The noble Menelaus, yellow-haired, Brought two swift coursers underneath the yoke, King Agamemnon’s Aethè, and with her His own Podargus. Echepolus once, Anchises’ son, sent Aethè as a gift To Agamemnon, that he might be free From following with the army to the heights Of Ilium, and enjoy the ease he loved; For Jove had given him wealth, and he abode On Sicyon’s plains. Now, eager for the race, She took the yoke. Antilochus, the fourth, The gallant son of the magnanimous king, Neleian Nestor, harnessed next his steeds With stately manes. Swift coursers that were foaled At Pylus drew his chariot. To his side as His father came and stood, and spake and gave Wise counsels, though the youth himself was wise:—
“Antilochus, I cannot doubt that Jove And Neptune both have loved thee, teaching thee, Young as thou art, all feats of horsemanship. Small is the need to instruct thee. Thou dost know Well how to turn the goal, and yet thy steeds Are slow, and ill for thee may be the event. Their steeds are swift, yet have they never learned To govern them with greater skill than thou. Now then, dear son, bethink thee heedfully Of all precautions, lest thou miss the prize. By skill the woodman, rather than by strength, Brings down the oak; by skill the pilot guides His wind-tossed galley over the dark sea; And thus by skill the charioteer o’ercomes His rival. He who trusts too much his steeds And chariot lets them veer from side to side Along the course, nor keeps a steady rein Straight on, while one expert in horsemanship, Though drawn by slower horses, carefully Observes the goal, and closely passes it, Nor fails to know how soon to turn his course, Drawing the leathern reins, and steadily Keeps on, and watches him who goes before. Now must I show the goal which, easily Discerned, will not escape thine eye. It stands An ell above the ground, a sapless post, Of oak or larch—a wood of slow decay By rain, and at its foot on either side Lies a white stone; there narrow is the way,