All night long they feasted, and in Troy also did the Trojans feast. But in Olympus did Zeus angrily plan the overthrow of the men who seemed to fear him not, and the noise of his thunderings filled the feasters with dread of what was to come. On the next day, when golden dawn was spreading over the earth, Zeus held a council of the gods, and with a fearful doom did he threaten the god or goddess who should dare to aid either Greek or Trojan. ‘We bow to thy will, great father Zeus,’ Athene made answer. ‘Yet let us, I pray thee, give counsel to the Greeks that they may not all perish before the mightiness of thine anger.’ ‘So be it,’ answered Zeus, smiling upon her, for dear to the king of the gods was Athene, his beautiful daughter. Then did Zeus, in his armour of gold, mount upon his car. His fleet-footed horses, bronze-shod, had flowing tails of gold, and them he lashed with his golden whip so that like lightning they flashed across space, between earth and the starry heavens. High up on Mount Ida did he rein them in, and in thick mist upon the mountain-top he sat him down and watched the Greeks and Trojans, as though they were his playthings, fighting far below on the plain. Early that day did the two hosts meet, and soon was the morning air filled with the cries of pain and of rage, of defeat, and of victory, and the fair earth was streaming with the blood of men, dead and dying. When midday came, Zeus stretched out from his throne on the mountain his golden scales, and in them laid two weights of death, one for the Greeks and the other for the men of Troy. And the scale of the Greeks sank down low, and as it sank, Zeus sent down a blazing lightning flash so that the two armies saw the great god and his scales, and fear seized upon the Greeks. The mightiest Greek no longer kept his courage. Only Nestor, oldest of the warriors, still had a dauntless heart. With an arrow from his bow had Paris slain one of the horses in Nestor’s chariot, but from his chariot did the old man leap down and with his sword fiercely hewed at the traces. But as he still hewed, through the throng Hector furiously drove his chariot. Then had Nestor indeed perished, but that Diomedes marked what would befall. With a great shout did he call to Odysseus: ‘Whither fleest thou, like a coward, Odysseus? Stand thy ground till we have saved the old man from his mighty foe!’ So spake he, but Odysseus heard him not, and hastened onward. Alone then did Diomedes take his stand by the side of Nestor. ‘Younger warriors than myself beset thee hard!’ said Diomedes. ‘Thou art feeble, thy charioteer is a weakling, and thy horses slow. Quickly mount my car, and see what are the paces of my horses that I took from Aeneas. Straight against Hector shall we guide them, that he may know the power of the spear of Diomedes.’