And first the younger spake: “Why, brother, are ye arming thus? Is it to undertake The sending of some vent’rous Greek, t’ explore the foe’s intent? Alas! I greatly fear, not one will give that work consent, Expos’d alone to all the fears that flow in gloomy night. He that doth this must know death well, in which ends ev’ry fright.” “Brother,” said he, “in these affairs we both must use advice, Jove is against us, and accepts great Hector’s sacrifice. For I have never seen, nor heard, in one day, and by one, So many high attempts well urg’d, as Hector’s pow’r hath done Against the hapless sons of Greece: being chiefly dear to Jove, And without cause, being neither fruit of any Goddess’ love, Nor helpful God; and yet I fear the deepness of his hand, Ere it be ras’d out of our thoughts, will many years withstand. But, brother, hie thee to thy ships, and Idomen’s disease With warlike Ajax; I will haste to grave Neleides, Exhorting him to rise, and give the sacred watch command, For they will specially embrace incitement at his hand, And now his son their captain is, and Idomen’s good friend, Bold Merion, to whose discharge we did that charge commend.” “Command’st thou then,” his brother ask’d, “that I shall tarry here Attending thy resolv’d approach, or else the message bear, And quickly make return to thee?” He answer’d: “Rather stay, Lest otherwise we fail to meet, for many a diff’rent way Lies through our labyrinthian host. Speak ever as you go, Command strong watch, from sire to son urge all t’ observe the foe, Familiarly, and with their praise, exciting ev’ry eye, Not with unseason’d violence of proud authority. We must our patience exercise, and work ourselves with them, Jove in our births combin’d such care to either’s diadem.” Thus he dismiss’d him, knowing well his charge before he went. Himself to Nestor, whom he found in bed within his tent, By him his damask curets hung, his shield, a pair of darts, His shining casque, his arming waist; in these he led the hearts Of his apt soldiers to sharp war, not yielding to his years. He quickly started from his bed, when to his watchful ears Untimely feet told some approach; he took his lance in hand, And spake to him: “Ho, what art thou that walk’st at midnight? Stand. Is any wanting at the guards? Or lack’st thou any peer? Speak, come not silent towards me; say, what intend’st thou here?” He answer’d: “O Neleides, grave honour of our host, ’Tis Agamemnon thou mayst know, whom Jove afflicteth most Of all the wretched men that live, and will, whilst any breath Gives motion to my toiled limbs, and bears me up from death. I walk the round thus, since sweet sleep cannot inclose mine eyes, Nor shut those organs care breaks ope for our calamities. My fear is vehement for the Greeks; my heart, the fount of heat, With his extreme affects made cold, without my breast doth beat; And therefore are my sinews strook with trembling; ev’ry part Of what my friends may feel hath act in my disperséd heart.