Thus he, experienc’d in the wars of old; Well pleas’d, the monarch Agamemnon saw, And thus address’d him; “Would to Heav’n, old man, That, as thy spirit, such too were thy strength And vigour of thy limbs; but now old age, The common lot of mortals, weighs thee down; Would I could see some others in thy place, And thou couldst still be numbered with the young!” To whom Gerenian Nestor thus replied: “Atrides, I too fain would see restor’d The strength I once possess’d, what time I slew The godlike Ereuthalion; but the Gods On man bestow not all their gifts at once; I then was young, and now am bow’d with age, Yet with the chariots can I still go forth, And aid with sage advice: for such the right And privilege of age; to hurl the spear Belongs to younger men, who after me Were born, who boast their vigour unimpair’d.” He said; and Agamemnon went his way, Rejoicing: to Menestheus next he came, The son of Peteus, charioteer renown’d; Him found he, circled by th’ Athenian bands, The raisers of the war-cry; close beside The sage Ulysses stood, around him rang’d, Not unrenown’d, the Cephalonian troops: The sound of battle had not reach’d their ears; For but of late the Greek and Trojan hosts Were set in motion; they expecting stood, Till other Grecian columns should advance, Assail the Trojans, and renew the war. Atrides saw, and thus, reproachful, spoke: “O son of Peteus, Heav’n-descended King! And thou too, master of all tricky arts, Why, ling’ring, stand ye thus aloof, and wait For others coming? ye should be the first The hot assault of battle to confront; For ye are first my summons to receive, Whene’er the honour’d banquet we prepare: And well ye like to eat the sav’ry meat, And, at your will, the luscious wine-cups drain: Now stand ye here, and unconcern’d would see Ten columns pass before you to the fight.” To whom, with stern regard, Ulysses thus: “What words have pass’d the barrier of thy lips, Atrides? how with want of warlike zeal Canst thou reproach us? when the Greeks again The furious war shall waken, thou shalt see (If that thou care to see) amid the ranks Of Troy, the father of Telemachus In the fore-front: thy words are empty wind.” Atrides saw him chafed, and smiling, thus Recalled his former words: “Ulysses sage, Laertes’ high-born son, not over-much I give thee blame, or orders; for I know Thy mind to gentle counsels is inclin’d; Thy thoughts are one with mine; then come, henceforth Shall all be well; and if a hasty word Have pass’d, may Heaven regard it as unsaid.”