Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/496

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Who next him in their host hath high renown?

Aias I count no whit outdone by him,

And Tydeus' son; and that glib craftiest knave

Odysseus—yet, for courage, brave enow,

And chief of mischief-workers to this land,

Who came by night unto Athena's fane,

Her image stole, and bare to Argos' ships.

In vile attire but now, in beggar's guise,

He passed our gate-towers: loudly did he curse

The Argives, he, their spy to Ilium sent!

He slew the guards, the warders of the gates,

And stole forth. Aye in ambush is he found

By the Thymbræan altars nigh the town

Lurking—a foul pest he to wrestle with!

No man of knightly soul doth deign by stealth

To slay his foe; he meets him face to face.

This man who skulks, thou sayest, like a thief,

And weaves his plots, him will I take alive,

And at your gates' outgoings set him up

Impaled, a feast for vultures heavy-winged.

Robber and rifler of the shrines of Gods,

Meet is it that he die by such a doom!

Encamp ye now and rest, for it is night.

A spot myself will show thee, where thine host

Must pass the night, apart from our array.