Evemon’s son, Eurypylus: and Andræmonides, Whom all the Grecians Thoas call’d, sprung of Andræmon’s blood; And wise Ulysses; ev’ry one, propos’d for combat, stood. Again Gerenius Nestor spake: “Let lots be drawn by all; His hand shall help the well-arm’d Greeks, on whom the lot doth fall, And to his wish shall he be help’d, if he escape with life The harmful danger-breathing fit of his advent’rous strife.” Each mark’d his lot, and cast it into Agamemnon’s casque. The soldiers pray’d, held up their hands, and this of Jove did ask, With eyes advanc’d to heav’n: “O Jove, so lead the herald’s hand, That Ajax, or great Tydeus’ son, may our wish’d champion stand, Or else the king himself that rules the rich Mycenian land.” This said, old Nestor mix’d the lots. The foremost lot survey’d With Ajax Telamon was sign’d, as all the soldiers pray’d; One of the heralds drew it forth, who brought and show’d it round, Beginning at the right hand first, to all the most renown’d. None knowing it, ev’ry man denied; but when he forth did pass To him which mark’d and cast it in; which famous Ajax was, He stretch’d his hand, and into it the herald put the lot, Who, viewing it, th’ inscription knew; the duke deniéd not, But joyfully acknowledg’d it, and threw it at his feet, And said: “O friends, the lot is mine, which to my soul is sweet; For now I hope my fame shall rise, in noble Hector’s fall. But, whilst I arm myself, do you on great Saturnius call, But silently, or to yourselves, that not a Trojan hear; Or openly, if you think good, since none alive we fear. None with a will, if I will not, can my bold pow’rs affright, At least for plain fierce swing of strength, or want of skill in fight; For I will well prove that my birth; and breed, in Salamine Was not all consecrate to meat, or mere effects of wine.” This said, the well-giv’n soldiers pray’d; up went to heav’n their eyne: “O Jove, that Ida dost protect, most happy, most divine, Send victory to Ajax’ side; fame; grace his goodly limb; Or (if thy love bless Hector’s life, and thou hast care of him.) Bestow on both like pow’r, like fame.” This said, in bright arms, shone The good strong Ajax; who, when all his war attire was on, March’d like the hugely-figur’d Mars, when angry Jupiter With strength, on people proud of strength, sends him forth to infer Wreakful contention, and comes on with presence full of fear; So th’ Achive rampire, Telamon, did ’twixt the hosts appear; Smil’d; yet of terrible aspéct; on earth, with ample pace, He boldly stalk’d, and shook aloft his dart with deadly grace. It did the Grecians good to see; but heartquakes shook the joints Of all the Trojans, Hector’s self felt thoughts, with horrid points, Tempt his bold bosom; but he now must make no counterflight, Nor, with his honour, now refuse, that had provok’d the fight. Ajax came near; and, like a tow’r, his shield his bosom barr’d, The right side brass, and sev’n ox-hides within it quilted hard;[4]