DOLON. I thank thee.--'Tis indeed a prize more fine Than all in Troy.--Grudge me not that; there be Guerdons abundant for a Prince like thee. [_Exit_ HECTOR. CHORUS. [_Antistr._ O peril strange, O fearful prize! Yet win it and thy life hath wings: A deed of glory in men's eyes, And greatness, to be wooed of kings. If God but hearken to the right, Thou drinkest to the full this night The cup of man's imaginings. DOLON. [_He stands waiting a moment looking out into the dark._ There lies the way.--But first I must go find At home some body-shelter to my mind; Then, forward to the ships of Argolis! LEADER. [vv. 204-223] What other raiment wilt thou need than this? DOLON. A garb for work, for night; a thieving guise. LEADER. 'Tis good to learn the wisdoms of the wise. What will thy wrapping be? DOLON. A grey wolf's hide Shall wrap my body close on either side; My head shall be the mask of gleaming teeth, My arms fit in the forepaws, like a sheath, My thighs in the hinder parts. No Greek shall tell 'Tis not a wolf that walks, half visible, On four feet by the trenches and around The ship-screen. When it comes to empty ground It stands on two.--That is the plan, my friend! LEADER. Now Maian Hermes guide thee to thy end And home safe! Well he loves all counterfeit . . . Good work is there; may good luck go with it! DOLON (_to himself gazing out toward the Greek camp_). There, and then back! . . . And on this belt shall bleed Odysseus' head--or why not Diomede?-- To prove my truth. Ere dawn can touch the land I shall be here, and blood upon my hand. [_Exit_ DOLON. CHORUS. [vv. 224-255] Thymbraean, Delian, Birth divine, That walkest Lycia's inmost shrine, Come, strong to guard, to guide, to follow, Come, bow in hand and girt with night, To help thy Dardans as of old, When stone by stone thy music rolled-- O conquering Strength, O Sire Apollo!-- Young Ilion into towers of light. Grant that he reach the shipyard, creep Keen-eyed through all that host asleep, Then back to home and hearth, yet living, Where now his father prays alone: Yea, grant that, when the Greeks are slain, Our wolf shall mount with scourge and rein Those coursers of the sea-god's giving, Whom Peleus drove in days foregone. * * * * *