Nest came the horses of Antilochus, Who had by stratagem, and not by speed, O’er Menelaus triumph’d; yet e’en so Atrides’ flying coursers press’d him hard; For but so far as from the chariot-wheel A horse, when harness’d to a royal car; Whose tail, back-streaming, with the utmost hairs Brushes the felloes; close before the wheel, Small space between, he scours the wide-spread plain: So far was Menelaus in the rear Of Nestor’s son; at first, a discus’ cast Between them lay; but rapidly his ground He gain’d—so well the speed and courage serv’d Of Æthe, Agamemnon’s beauteous mare; And, but a little farther were the course, Had pass’d him by, nor left the race in doubt. Behind the noble son of Atreus came, A jav’lin’s flight apart, Meriones, The faithful follower of Idomeneus: His were the slowest horses, and himself The least experienc’d in the rapid race. Dragging his broken car, came last of all, His horses driv’n in front, Admetus’ son; Achilles swift of foot with pity saw, And to the Greeks his winged words address’d: “See where the best of all the last appears; But let him take, as meet, the second prize; The first belongs of right to Tydeus’ son.” Thus he; they all assented to his words; And, by the gen’ral voice of Greece, the mare Had now been his; but noble Nestor’s son, Antilochus, stood up, his right to claim, And to Achilles, Peleus’ son, replied: “Achilles, thou wilt do me grievous wrong, If thou thy words accomplish; for my prize Thou tak’st away, because mishap befell His car and horses, by no fault of his; Yet had he to th’ Immortals made his pray’r, He surely had not thus been last of all. But, pitying him, if so thy mind incline, Thy tents contain good store of gold, and brass, And sheep, and female slaves, and noble steeds; For him, of these, hereafter mayst thou take A prize of higher value; or e’en now, And with th’ applause of all; but for the mare, I will not give her up; and let who will Stand forth, my own right hand shall guard my prize.” He said; and smil’d Achilles swift of foot, Delighted; for he lov’d the noble youth, To whom his winged words he thus address’d: “Antilochus, if such be thy request, That for Eumelus I should add a prize, This too I grant thee; and to him I give My breastplate, from Asteropaeus won, Of brass, around whose edge is roll’d a stream Of shining tin; a gift of goodly price.” He said, and bade Automedon, his friend And comrade, bring the breastplate from his tent; He went, and brought it; in Eumelus’ hand He plac’d it; he with joy the gift receiv’d. Then Menelaus, sad at heart, arose, Burning with wrath against Antilochus; And while the herald in the monarch’s hand His royal sceptre plac’d, and bade the Greeks Keep silence, thus the godlike hero spoke: