Whom answer’d Dolon thus, Eumedes’ son: “To this too will I give ye answer true; Next to the sea the Carian forces lie; The Paeon archers and the Leleges, The Caucons, and the bold Pelasgians next; On Thymbra’s side the Lycians’ lot has fall’n, The Mysians brave, the Phrygian cavalry, And the Maeonians with their horsehair plumes. But why of these enquire? if ye intend An inroad on the camp, apart from all, New come, the farthest off, the Thracians lie: Rhesus their King, the son of Eioneus, Sleeps in the midst; no steeds that e’er I saw For size and beauty can with his compare: Whiter than snow, and swifter than the wind. With gold and silver is his chariot wrought, His armour golden, of gigantic size, A marvel to behold! it seems not meet For mortal man, but for th’ immortal Gods. But take me now in safety to the ships; Or leave me here in fetters bound, that so, Ere ye return, ye may approve my words, And see if I have told you true, or no.” To whom thus Diomed with stern regard: “Dolon, though good thy tidings, hope not thou, Once in our hands, to ’scape the doom of death; For if we now should let thee go, again In after times thou mightst our ships approach, As secret spy, or open enemy: But if beneath my hands thou lose thy life, No farther trouble shalt thou cause the Greeks.” He said; and as the suppliant sought in vain To touch his beard, imploring, through his throat, Both tendons sev’ring, drove his trenchant blade: Ev’n while he spoke, his head was roll’d in dust. The cap of marten fur from off his head They took, the wolf-skin, and the bow unstrung, And jav’lin; these Ulysses held aloft, And thus to Pallas pray’d, who gave the spoil: “Receive, great Goddess, these our gifts; to thee, Of all th’ Immortals on Olympus’ height, Our off’rings first we give; conduct us now, The Thracian camp and Thracian steeds to gain.” Thus as he spoke, amid the tamarisk scrub Far off he threw the trophies; then with reeds, And twigs new broken from the tamarisk boughs, He set a mark, lest in the gloom of night Returning, they might haply miss the spot. Then on they pass’d thro’ arms and blacken’d gore, And reach’d the confines of the Thracian camp. There found they all by sleep subdued; their arms Beside them on the ground, in order due, In triple rows; and by the side of each, Harness’d and yok’d, his horses ready stood. Surrounded by his warriors, Rhesus slept; Beside him stood his coursers fleet, their reins Suspended to the chariot’s topmost rail: Ulysses mark’d him as he lay, and said, “This is the man, Tydides, these the steeds, To us by Dolon, whom we slew, describ’d. Now then, put forth thy might; beseems it not To stand thus idly with thine arms in hand: Loose thou the horses; or do thou the men Despatch, and to my care the horses leave.”