This said, and to his son his counsels giv’n, The aged Nestor to his seat withdrew. Fifth in the lists Meriones appear’d. They mounted on their cars, and cast their lots: Achilles shook the helmet; first leaped forth The lot of Nestor’s son, Antilochus; Next came the King Eumelus; after whom The valiant Menelaus, Atreus’ son; The fourth, Meriones; and last of all, But ablest far, Tydides drew his place. They stood in line; Achilles pointed out, Ear on the level plain, the distant goal; And there in charge the godlike Phoenix plac’d, His father’s ancient follower, to observe The course assign’d, and true report to make. Then all at once their whips they rais’d, and urg’d By rein, and hand, and voice, their eager steeds. They from the ships pursued their rapid course Athwart the distant plain; beneath their chests Rose like a cloud, or hurricane, the dust; Loose floated on the breeze their ample manes; The cars now skimm’d along the fertile ground, Now bounded high in air; the charioteers Stood up aloft, and ev’ry bosom beat With hope of vict’ry; each with eager shout Cheering his steeds, that scour’d the dusty plain. But when, the farthest limits of the course Attain’d, they turn’d beside the hoary sea, Strain’d to their utmost speed, were plainly seen The qualities of each; then in the front Appear’d Eumelus’ flying mares, and next The Trojan horses of Tydides came: Nor these were far behind, but following close They seem’d in act to leap upon the car. Eumelus, on his neck and shoulders broad, Felt their warm breath; for o’er him, as they flew, Their heads were downward bent; and now, perchance, Had he or pass’d, or made an even race, But that, incens’d with valiant Diomed, Apollo wrested from his hands the whip. Then tears of anger from his eyelids fell, As gaining more and more the mares he saw, While, urg’d no more, his horses slack’d their speed. But Pallas mark’d Apollo’s treach’rous wile; And hasting to the chief, restor’d his whip, And to his horses strength and courage gave. The Goddess then Admetus’ son pursued, And snapp’d his chariot yoke; the mares, releas’d, Swerv’d from the track; the pole upon the ground Lay loosen’d from the car; and he himself Beside the wheel was from the chariot hurl’d. From elbows, mouth, and nose, the skin was torn; His forehead crush’d and batter’d in; his eyes Were fill’d with tears, and mute his cheerful voice. Tydides turn’d aside, and far ahead Of all the rest, pass’d on; for Pallas gave His horses courage, and his triumph will’d. Next him, the fair-hair’d Menelaus came, The son of Atreus; but Antilochus Thus to his father’s horses call’d aloud: