From those false Trojans I have slain. And this is not the guise Of one that loves his tent, or fights afar off with his foe, But since I love fight, therefore doth my martial star bestow, Besides those darts, helms, targets boss’d, and corslets bright as day.” “So I,” said Merion, “at my tent, and sable bark, may say, I many Trojan spoils retain, but now not near they be, To serve me for my present use; and therefore ask I thee. Not that I lack a fortitude to store me with my own, For ever in the foremost fights, that render men renown, I fight, when any fight doth stir. And this perhaps may well Be hid to others, but thou know’st, and I to thee appeal.” “I know,” replied the king, “how much thou weigh’st in ev’ry worth, What need’st thou therefore utter this? If we should now choose forth The worthiest men for ambushes, in all our fleet and host, (For ambushes are services that try men’s virtues most, Since there the fearful and the firm will, as they are, appear, The fearful alt’ring still his hue, and rests not anywhere, Nor is his spirit capable of th’ ambush constancy, But riseth, changeth still his place, and croucheth curiously On his bent haunches; half his height scarce seen above the ground, For fear to be seen, yet must see; his heart, with many a bound, Off’ring to leap out of his breast, and, ever fearing death, The coldness of it makes him gnash, and half shakes out his teeth; Where men of valour neither fear, nor ever change their looks, From lodging th’ ambush till it rise, but, since there must be strokes, Wish to be quickly in their midst) thy strength and hand in these Who should reprove? For if, far off, or fighting in the prease, Thou shouldst be wounded, I am sure the dart that gave the wound Should not be drawn out of thy back, or make thy neck the ground, But meet thy belly, or thy breast, in thrusting further yet When thou art furthest, till the first, and before him, thou get. But on; like children let not us stand bragging thus, but do; Lest some hear, and past measure chide, that we stand still and woo. Go, choose a better dart, and make Mars yield a better chance.” This said, Mars-swift Meriones, with haste, a brazen lance Took from his tent, and overtook, most careful of the wars, Idomenëus, And such two, in field, as harmful Mars, And Terror, his belovéd son, that without terror fights, And is of such strength that in war the frighter he affrights, When, out of Thrace, they both take arms against th’ Ephyran bands, Or ’gainst the great-soul’d Phlegians, nor favour their own hands, But give the grace to others still; in such sort to the fight, March’d these two managers of men, in armours full of light. And first spake Merion: “On which part, son of Deucalion, Serves thy mind to invade the fight? Is’t best to set upon The Trojans, in our battle’s aid, the right or left-hand wing, For all parts I suppose employ’d?” To this the Cretan king Thus answer’d: “In our navy’s midst are others that assist;