The other Gods, and knights at arms, all night slept; only Jove Sweet slumber seiz’d not; he discours’d how best he might approve His vow made for Achilles’ grace, and make the Grecians find His miss in much death. All ways cast, this counsel serv’d his mind With most allowance; to despatch a harmful Dream to greet The king of men, and gave this charge: “Go to the Achive fleet, Pernicious Dream, and, being arriv’d in Agamemnon’s tent, Deliver truly all this charge. Command him to convent His whole host arm’d before these tow’rs; for now Troy’s broad-way’d town He shall take in; the heav’n-hous’d Gods are now indiff’rent grown: Juno’s request hath won them; Troy now under imminent ills At all parts labours.” This charge heard, the Vision straight fulfils; The ships reach’d, and Atrides’ tent, in which he found him laid, Divine sleep pour’d about his pow’rs. He stood above his head Like Nestor, grac’d of old men most, and this did intimate: “Sleeps the wise Atreus’ tame-horse son? A councillor of state Must not the whole night spend in sleep, to whom the people are For guard committed, and whose life stands bound to so much care. Now hear me, then, Jove’s messenger, who, though far off from thee, Is near thee yet in ruth and care, and gives command by me To arm thy whole host. Thy strong hand the broad-way’d town of Troy Shall now take in; no more the Gods dissentiously employ Their high-hous’d powers; Juno’s suit hath won them all to her; And ill fates overhang these tow’rs, address’d by Jupiter. Fix in thy mind this, nor forget to give it action, when Sweet sleep shall leave thee.” Thus, he fled; and left the king of men Repeating in discourse his dream, and dreaming still, awake, Of pow’r, not ready yet for act. O fool, he thought to take In that next day old Priam’s town; not knowing what affairs Jove had in purpose, who prepar’d, by strong fight, sighs and cares For Greeks and Trojans. The Dream gone, his voice still murmured About the king’s ears; who sate up, put on him in his bed His silken inner weed, fair, new; and then in haste arose, Cast on his ample mantle, tied to his soft feet fair shoes, His silver-hilted sword he hung about his shoulder, took His father’s sceptre never stain’d, which then abroad he shook, And went to fleet. And now great heav’n Goddess Aurora scal’d, To Jove, and all Gods, bringing light; when Agamemnon call’d His heralds, charging them aloud to call to instant court The thick-hair’d Greeks. The heralds call’d; the Greeks made quick resort. The Council chiefly he compos’d of old great-minded men, At Nestor’s ships, the Pylian king. All there assembled then, Thus Atreus’ son begun the court: “Hear, friends: A Dream divine, Amidst the calm night in my sleep, did through my shut eyes shine, Within my fantasy. His form did passing naturally Resemble Nestor; such attire, a stature just as high. He stood above my head, and words thus fashion’d did relate: ‘Sleeps the wise Atreus’ tame-horse son? A councillor of state