Implanted ignominious in thy spine. Stop—Nestor dies. Fell Hector is at hand. So shouted Diomede, whose summons loud,115 Ulysses yet heard not, but, passing, flew With headlong haste to the Achaian fleet. Then, Diomede, unaided as he was, Rush’d ardent to the vanward, and before The steeds of the Neleian sovereign old120 Standing, in accents wing’d, him thus address’d. Old Chief! these youthful warriors are too brisk For thee, press’d also by encroaching age, Thy servant too is feeble, and thy steeds Are tardy. Mount my chariot. Thou shalt see125 With what rapidity the steeds of Troy, Pursuing or retreating, scour the field. I took them from that terror of his foes, Æneas. Thine to our attendants leave, While these against the warlike powers of Troy130 We push direct; that Hector’s self may know If my spear rage not furious as his own. He said, nor the Gerenian Chief refused. Thenceforth their servants, Sthenelus and good Eurymedon, took charge of Nestor’s steeds,135 And they the chariot of Tydides both Ascended; Nestor seized the reins, plied well The scourge, and soon they met. Tydides hurl’d At Hector first, while rapid he advanced; But missing Hector, wounded in the breast140 Eniopeus his charioteer, the son Of brave Thebæus, managing the steeds. He fell; his fiery coursers at the sound Startled, recoil’d, and where he fell he died. Deep sorrow for his charioteer o’erwhelm’d145 The mind of Hector; yet, although he mourn’d He left him, and another sought as brave. Nor wanted long his steeds a charioteer, For finding soon the son of Iphitus, Bold Archeptolemus, he bade him mount150 His chariot, and the reins gave to his hand. Then deeds of bloodiest note should have ensued, Penn’d had the Trojans been, as lambs, in Troy, But for quick succor of the sire of all. Thundering, he downward hurled his candent bolt155 To the horse-feet of Diomede; dire fumed The flaming sulphur, and both horses drove Under the axle, belly to the ground. Forth flew the splendid reins from Nestor’s hand, And thus to Diomede, appall’d, he spake.160