His elocution was increased by fear; I heard, I ran, I found him out of breath, Pale, trembling, and half-dead with fear of death. Though he had judged himself by his own laws, And stood condemned, I helped the common cause: With my broad buckler hid him from the foe, (Even the shield trembled as he lay below,) And from impending fate the coward freed; Good heaven forgive me for so bad a deed! If still he will persist, and urge the strife, First let him give me back his forfeit life; Let him return to that opprobrious field, Again creep under my protecting shield; Let him lie wounded, let the foe be near, And let his quivering heart confess his fear; There put him in the very jaws of fate, And let him plead his cause in that estate; And yet, when snatched from death, when from below My lifted shield I loosed, and let him go, Good heavens, how light he rose! with what a bound He sprung from earth, forgetful of his wound! How fresh, how eager then his feet to ply! Who had not strength to stand, had speed to fly! Hector came on, and brought the gods along; Fear seized alike the feeble and the strong; Each Greek was an Ulysses; such a dread The approach, and even the sound, of Hector bred; Him, fleshed with slaughter, and with conquest crowned, I met, and overturned him to the ground. When after, matchless as he deemed in might, He challenged all our host to single fight, All eyes were fixed on me; the lots were thrown, But for your champion I was wished alone. Your vows were heard; we fought, and neither yield; Yet I returned unvanquished from the field. With Jove to friend, the insulting Trojan came, And menaced us with force, our fleet with flame; Was it the strength of this tongue-valiant lord, In that black hour, that saved you from the sword? Or was my breast exposed alone, to brave A thousand swords, a thousand ships to save, The hopes of your return? and can you yield, For a saved fleet, less than a single shield? Think it no boast, O Grecians, if I deem These arms want Ajax, more than Ajax them; Or, I with them an equal honour share; They, honoured to be worn, and I, to wear. Will he compare my courage with his slight? As well he may compare the day with night. Night is indeed the province of his reign; } Yet all his dark exploits no more contain } Than a spy taken, and a sleeper slain; } A priest made prisoner, Pallas made a prey; } But none of all these actions done by day; } Nor aught of these was done, and Diomede away. } If on such petty merits you confer So vast a prize, let each his portion share; Make a just dividend; and, if not all, The greater part to Diomede will fall.