Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/198

196 Then rush behind him, and prevent his pace.

But if, too swift of foot, he flies before,

Confine his course along the fleet and shore,

Betwixt the camp and him our spears employ,

And intercept his hoped return to Troy."

With that they stepped aside, and stooped their head,

As Dolon passed, behind a heap of dead:

Along the path the spy unwary flew:

Soft, at just distance, both the chiefs pursue.

So distant they, and such the space between,

As when two teams of mules divide the green,

To whom the hind like shares of land allows,

When now new furrows part the approaching ploughs.

Now Dolon listening heard them as they passed;

Hector, he thought, had sent, and checked his haste:

Till scarce at distance of a javelin's throw,

No voice succeeding, he perceived the foe.

As when two skilful hounds the leveret wind,

Or chase through woods obscure the trembling hind;

Now lost, now seen, they intercept his way,

And from the herd still turn the flying prey:

So fast, and with such fears, the Trojan flew;

So close, so constant, the bold Greeks pursue.

And mingles with the guards that watch the walls:

Now almost on the fleet the dastard falls,

When brave Tydides stopped: a generous thought,

Inspired by Pallas, in his bosom wrought,

Lest on the foe some forward Greek advance,

And snatch the glory from his lifted lance.

Then thus aloud: "Whoe'er thou art, remain;

This javelin else shall fix thee to the plain."

He said, and high in air the weapon cast,

Which wilful erred, and o'er his shoulder passed:

Then fixed in earth. Against the trembling wood

The wretch stood propped, and quivered as he stood;

A sudden palsy seized his turning head;

His loose teeth chattered, and his colour fled:

The panting warriors seize him, as he stands,

And, with unmanly tears, his life demands:

"O spare my youth, and, for the breath I owe,

Large gifts of price my father shall bestow:

Vast heaps of brass shall in your ships be told,

And steel well-tempered, and refulgent gold."

To whom Ulysses made this wise reply:

"Whoe'er thou art, be bold, nor fear to die. What moves thee, say, when sleep has closed the sight, To roam the silent fields in dead of night? Gamest thou the secrets of our camp to find, By Hector prompted, or thy daring mind?