Homer · a new plain-English translation from the Greek
The rest of the Achaean captains slept the whole night through beside the ships, mastered by soft sleep. But Agamemnon, son of Atreus, shepherd of his people, could not find sweet rest, his mind churning with too many thoughts. As when the husband of fair-haired Hera flashes lightning, readying an enormous downpour or hail beyond telling, or snow, when the white flakes powder the fields, or somewhere the wide jaws of bitter war, so thick and fast the groans broke from Agamemnon's chest, welling up from the depths of his heart, and the flesh shook within him.
Whenever he looked out across the Trojan plain he marveled at the many fires burning before Troy, and the sound of pipes and flutes, and the murmur of men. But when he turned his eyes back to the ships and the army of the Achaeans, he tore great handfuls of hair out by the roots, looking up to Zeus on high, and his proud heart groaned within him. And this at last seemed to his mind the best plan: to go first of all to Nestor, son of Neleus, and see whether together with him he might work out some plan beyond reproach, one that could turn aside disaster from all the Danaans.
He sat up and pulled a tunic over his chest, bound fine sandals beneath his shining feet, then threw over his shoulders the tawny hide of a huge, fierce lion, reaching to his heels, and took up his spear. Fear gripped Menelaus too in the very same way, for sleep would not settle on his eyes either — he feared for the Argives, who for his sake had crossed so much open water to Troy, bent on reckless war. First he covered his broad back with a leopard skin, richly patterned, then lifted a bronze helmet and set it on his head,
and took his sturdy spear in his powerful hand. He set off to rouse his brother, who ruled all the Argives and was honored by his people like a god. He found him beside the stern of his ship, buckling his fine armor about his shoulders, and Agamemnon was glad to see him come. Menelaus, good at the war cry, spoke first: "Why are you arming, dear brother? Do you mean to send one of our comrades to spy on the Trojans? I am terribly afraid no one will dare take on that task — to go out alone through the immortal night and scout the enemy lines.
Any man who tried it would need a very bold heart." Then powerful Agamemnon answered him: "Menelaus, you and I, both nurtured by Zeus, need some cunning plan — one that will rescue and save the Argives and their ships, since the mind of Zeus has swung against us. His heart, it seems, is bent now more toward Hector's offerings. I have never seen, nor heard tell of any man, working so much havoc in a single day as Hector, dear to Zeus, has worked against the sons of the Achaeans —
and not even the son of a goddess or a god at that. He has done deeds the Argives, I think, will feel the sting of for a long, long time — so much harm has he devised against the Achaeans. But go now, call Ajax and Idomeneus, running swiftly by the ships, and I will go to godlike Nestor and urge him to rise, in case he is willing to go to the sacred watch and give his orders there. He is the one the guards will listen to most readily, for it is his own son who commands the watchmen, and Meriones, comrade of Idomeneus — we entrusted the guard to those two above all." Then Menelaus, good at the war cry, answered him:
"How exactly do you want me to carry out this order? Should I stay there among the guards, waiting until you come, or run back to you once I have given the command?" Then Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him again: "Stay there, in case we miss each other on the way — there are many paths through the camp. Call out wherever you go, and tell the men to stay awake, naming each one by his father's line and lineage, giving every man his due honor. Do not stand on your pride —
let us both do our share of the hard work ourselves. This is the heavy trouble Zeus has laid on us at our birth." So he spoke, and sent his brother off with clear instructions, and went himself to find Nestor, shepherd of his people. He found him beside his hut and his black ship, lying on a soft bed; and near him lay his gleaming armor — shield, two spears, and a shining helmet. Beside him too lay his war belt, richly worked, with which the old man girded himself whenever he armed for battle that wastes men, leading his troops — for grim old age had not yet made him give that up. He raised himself on his elbow, lifted his head,
and spoke to the son of Atreus, questioning him: "Who are you, walking alone among the ships through the camp, in the black of night, while other men sleep? Are you looking for a stray mule, or for one of your comrades? Speak, do not come up to me in silence — what do you need?" Then Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him: "Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, you will recognize Agamemnon, son of Atreus, whom Zeus has plunged into more toil than any other man, for as long as breath
stays in my chest and my knees still hold me up. I wander like this because sweet sleep will not rest on my eyes — my mind is fixed on the war and the troubles of the Achaeans. I am terribly afraid for the Danaans; my heart will not settle, but is shaken with dread, and it leaps out of my chest, and my strong limbs tremble beneath me. But if you mean to do something too, since sleep will not come to you either, let us go down to the guard posts, so we can see
whether the men, worn out with weariness and sleep, are drowsing off and have utterly forgotten to keep watch. The enemy lies camped close by — and we have no way of knowing whether, even in the dark of night, they mean to attack." Then Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, answered him: "Most glorious son of Atreus, lord of men, Agamemnon — Zeus, the great planner, will not carry out for Hector all that he now hopes for. No, I think Hector himself will face far more trouble yet, and even greater, if Achilles
ever turns his heart away from his bitter anger. I will gladly go with you — and let us go rouse the others too, both Diomedes, famous for his spear, and Odysseus, and swift Ajax, and the strong son of Phyleus.
But someone should also go and call the godlike Ajax and lord Idomeneus, for their ships lie farthest off, not nearby at all. As for Menelaus — dear and honored as he is to me — I will find fault with him, even if you take it amiss, and I will not hide it: he is asleep, and has left all the work to you alone. He ought by now to be going round begging help from every one of our best men — for the need has grown past bearing." Then Agamemnon, lord of men, answered him again: "Old man, at other times I myself have told you to find fault with him,
for often he lets things slide and is unwilling to work — not from cowardice, nor from any dullness of mind, but because he looks to me and waits for me to make the first move. But this time he woke before I did and came to me himself; I have already sent him ahead to call the men you now ask about. So let us go — we will find them already before the gates, among the guards, for that is where I told them to gather." Then Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, answered him: "If that is so, no Argive will find fault with him or refuse him,
whenever he gives an order or urges a man on." So saying, he pulled a tunic over his chest, bound fine sandals beneath his shining feet, and fastened about himself a purple cloak, doubled and full, with a thick nap of wool upon it. He took up his sturdy spear, tipped with sharp bronze, and set off walking among the bronze-armored Achaean ships. First of all Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, roused Odysseus, the equal of Zeus in cunning, from his sleep, calling out to him; and the sound at once reached his wakened mind, and he came out of his hut and spoke to them:
"Why are you two wandering alone like this among the ships, through the camp, in the immortal night? What need presses so hard?" Then Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, answered him: "Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, do not be angry — such grief has overwhelmed the Achaeans. But come with us, so we may rouse another man too, one fit to help us decide whether to flee or to fight." So he spoke, and resourceful Odysseus went back into his hut, slung his richly worked shield about his shoulders, and came along with them. Next they went to find Diomedes, son of Tydeus, and found him
outside his hut, in full armor; around him his comrades slept, their shields beneath their heads, their spears planted upright by the butt-spikes, the bronze catching the light far off like the lightning of father Zeus. The hero himself lay sleeping, with the hide of a wild ox spread beneath him, and under his head a bright rug was stretched. Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, came up and roused him, nudging him with his foot, and stirred him, taunting him to his face: "Wake up, son of Tydeus! Why sleep the whole night through? Do you not know that the Trojans are camped on the rise of the plain,
close by our ships, with only a narrow strip of ground still holding them back?" So he spoke, and Diomedes sprang up at once from sleep, very quickly, and spoke to him, and his words flew like arrows: "You are a hard man, old sir — you never let up on your labors. Are there not younger men among the Achaeans who could go around and rouse each of the kings, going everywhere themselves? There is no stopping you, old man." Then Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, answered him in turn: "Yes, dear friend, all that you say is fair and true.
I do have blameless sons, and I do have troops enough,
many of them — any one of them could go round and call the men. But a very great need has come down hard upon the Achaeans. Now everything for every one of us stands balanced on a razor's edge — either grim destruction for the Achaeans, or life. But come now, go rouse swift Ajax and the son of Phyleus — you are younger than I am, so have pity on me and do it." So he spoke, and Diomedes threw over his shoulders the hide of a huge, tawny lion, reaching to his heels, and took up his spear. He went off, and roused the two, and led them, once risen, back with him. And when they had come and joined the gathered watchmen,
they did not find the leaders of the guard asleep — all of them sat awake, weapons in hand. As dogs keep an uneasy watch over sheep in a fold, hearing some fierce beast come down through the woods from the mountains, and a great clamor of men and dogs rises against it, and sleep is driven from them, so sleep had fled from the eyelids of these men as they kept their grim watch through the night, forever turning toward the plain, listening for any sound of the Trojans coming on. The old man was glad to see them and spoke to encourage them,
and his words flew to them like arrows: "Keep the watch just like this, dear sons, and let sleep take none of you, or we will become a joy to our enemies." So he spoke, and passed on across the ditch; and with him went the Argive kings who had been summoned to the council, and along with them went Meriones and Nestor's own gleaming son, for they too had been called to share in the planning. They crossed the dug ditch and sat down together on open ground, a clear space where the corpses of the fallen still showed pale — the place from which mighty Hector had at last turned back
from destroying the Argives, once night had spread its covering over all. There they sat down and spoke to one another, and Nestor of Gerenia, the horseman, opened the council: "Friends, is there no man here who trusts his own bold heart enough to go among the great-hearted Trojans, in hope of catching some straggler at the outer edge of their line, or perhaps overhearing some word passed among them — what they mean to do among themselves, whether they intend to hold their ground here by the ships, far from the city, or to fall back within the walls, now that they have beaten down the Achaeans?
If a man could learn all this and come back to us again unharmed, his fame would rise to the very sky before all men, and he would receive a fine reward. For every one of the captains who command the ships will give him a black ewe, still nursing her lamb — no gift can equal that — and he will always have a place at feasts and banquets." So he spoke, and all of them fell silent, saying nothing. Then Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke among them: "Nestor, my own heart and proud spirit urge me on
to slip into the enemy camp, the Trojans, so close at hand. But if another man would come with me, there would be more comfort in it, and more courage. When two go together, one sees before the other what will serve them best; but a man alone, even if he does see something, is slower in thought, and his judgment is thin." So he spoke, and many were eager to go with Diomedes. The two Ajaxes, henchmen of Ares, were eager; Meriones was eager; Nestor's son was very eager; Menelaus, son of Atreus, famous for his spear, was eager;
and long-suffering Odysseus too was eager to slip into the throng of the Trojans, for his heart was always daring within him. Then Agamemnon, lord of men, spoke among them: "Diomedes, son of Tydeus, dearest to my heart, choose then the comrade you wish, whichever is best of those who offer themselves, since many are eager. And do not, out of some misplaced deference, pass over the better man and take a lesser one instead, giving way to modesty, or looking to a man's rank, even if he is more of a king." So he spoke, fearing for fair-haired Menelaus.
Then Diomedes, good at the war cry, spoke among them again: "If you truly tell me to choose my own comrade, how could I then forget godlike Odysseus, whose heart and proud spirit are so ready in every hardship, and whom Pallas Athena loves? With him at my side, we could come back even out of blazing fire, both of us, for his judgment surpasses all others." Then long-suffering, godlike Odysseus answered him: "Son of Tydeus, do not praise me too highly, nor blame me either — you are speaking before Argives who already know all this.
But let us go — the night is far gone, dawn is near, the stars have moved on, and more than two of the night's three watches have already passed, only the third still remains." So saying, the two of them put on their fearsome war-gear. Thrasymedes, staunch in battle, gave Diomedes a two-edged sword — for his own had been left by his ship — and a shield, and set on his head a helmet of bull's-hide, without ridge or crest, the kind men call a skull-cap, which guards the heads of vigorous young men. Meriones gave Odysseus a bow and a quiver,
and a sword, and set on his head a helmet made of leather; inside it many straps were stretched tight to hold it firm, while on the outside the white teeth of a bright-tusked boar ran close-set, this way and that, skillfully and cunningly worked, and in the middle was fitted a cap of felt. This helmet, long ago, Autolycus had carried off from Eleon, breaking through the sturdy walls of Ormenus's son Amyntor's house, and had given it to Amphidamas of Cythera, in Scandeia; Amphidamas gave it to Molus as a guest-gift, and Molus gave it to his own son Meriones to wear.
And now it was fitted, covering Odysseus's head. So when the two of them had put on their fearsome war-gear, they set out, leaving all the other chiefs behind there. And Pallas Athena sent them, close by their path, a heron on the right; they could not see it with their eyes through the black night, but they heard its cry. Odysseus rejoiced at the omen and prayed to Athena: "Hear me, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis, you who always stand beside me in every hardship, and I never move without your notice —
now, Athena, be my friend more than ever, and grant that we come back to the ships in glory, having done some great deed that will trouble the Trojans." Then, second, Diomedes, good at the war cry, prayed too: "Hear me now as well, child of Zeus, unwearied one. Stand by me now, as once you stood by my father, godlike Tydeus, when he went to Thebes as a messenger from the Achaeans. He left the bronze-armored Achaeans behind at the Asopus, and carried a gentle message to the Cadmeans there,
but on his way back he carried out fearsome deeds, with your help, bright goddess, since you stood by him then, ready to aid him. So now, be willing to stand by me too, and guard me. And in return I will offer you a yearling heifer, broad-browed, unbroken, one no man has yet led beneath the yoke — I will offer her to you, her horns sheathed in gold." So they prayed, and Pallas Athena heard them. And when they had finished praying to the daughter of great Zeus, they went off like two lions through the black night,
through slaughter, among corpses, through weapons and dark blood. Nor did Hector let the proud Trojans sleep either, but called together all their best men,
all the leaders and counselors of Troy. Gathering them, he laid out a careful plan: "Who among you would take on this task for a great reward, and carry it through? His pay will be sure. I will give him a chariot and two strong-necked horses, the finest to be found by the swift ships of the Greeks, whoever dares to go — and he will win glory for himself besides — to slip close to the fast ships and find out whether they still keep watch as before, or whether, already beaten down by our hands, they are plotting flight among themselves, unwilling to keep the night watch, worn out with terrible weariness."
So he spoke, and all of them fell silent, saying nothing. Now there was among the Trojans a man named Dolon, son of Eumedes, the godlike herald, rich in gold and bronze. He was ugly to look at, but fast on his feet, and he was the only son among five sisters. He spoke up then to the Trojans and to Hector: "Hector, my heart and my proud spirit drive me to go close to the fast ships and find out the truth.
But come, hold up the scepter for me, and swear that you will give me the horses and the bronze-trimmed chariot that carry Achilles's flawless son — I will not be a useless scout for you, nor fall short of your hopes. I will go straight through the camp until I reach Agamemnon's ship, where the leaders will likely be debating whether to flee or to fight." So he spoke, and Hector took the scepter in his hands and swore to him: "Let Zeus himself bear witness, the thundering husband of Hera — no other man of Troy will ever ride behind those horses.
I swear you alone will glory in them forever." So he spoke, and swore an oath that would not be kept, but it spurred Dolon on. At once he slung the curved bow over his shoulders, threw over himself the pelt of a gray wolf, set a cap of weasel-skin on his head, took up a sharp javelin, and set off from the camp toward the ships. But he was never to return from the ships and bring Hector word.
He left behind the crowd of men and horses and set out along the road, moving fast — but godlike Odysseus caught sight of him coming and said to Diomedes: "Diomedes, here comes a man from the camp — I don't know whether he means to spy on our ships, or to strip the bodies of the dead. Let's let him pass us a little way out onto the plain first; then we'll rush him and seize him quickly. But if he outruns us on foot, keep driving him toward the ships, away from the camp, with your spear, so he doesn't slip back to the city."
So they spoke and dropped down off the path among the corpses, and Dolon ran past them quickly, suspecting nothing. But when he had gone about as far as the range mules can plow furrows in a day — for mules outdo oxen at dragging the jointed plow through deep fallow ground — the two men ran after him, and he stopped, hearing the noise of their feet, thinking in his heart that they were comrades sent back by Hector to call him home. But when they were a spear's throw away, or less, he recognized them as enemies, and his legs moved fast to flee. At once the two took off after him.
As two sharp-toothed hounds skilled in hunting press hard, without a break, after a fawn or a hare through wooded ground, and it runs on screaming ahead of them, so Diomedes, sacker of cities, and Odysseus cut Dolon off from his own men and chased him without letup. But just as he was about to run into the sentries near the ships, Athena put fury into Diomedes, so that no other bronze-armored Greek could claim the glory of striking first, leaving him only second. Rushing at him with his spear, mighty Diomedes called out: "Stop, or my spear will catch you — and I promise you won't escape sheer destruction at my hand for long."
So he spoke, and threw his spear, but missed the man on purpose — the polished spearhead flew over his right shoulder and stuck fast in the ground. Dolon stopped, terrified, stammering, his teeth chattering in his mouth, pale with fear. The two men caught up to him, gasping for breath, and seized his hands. He burst into tears and said: "Take me alive, and I will ransom myself — I have bronze, gold, and worked iron at home, and my father would gladly give you a fortune in ransom for them, if he learns I am alive among the ships of the Greeks."
Resourceful Odysseus answered him: "Take heart — don't let death weigh on your mind. But come, tell me this and answer truly: why are you going alone toward the ships, away from the camp, through the murky night, when other mortals are asleep? Do you mean to strip the dead? Or did Hector send you to spy out everything at the hollow ships? Or did your own heart drive you to it?" Trembling in every limb, Dolon answered him:
"Hector led me far astray with promises I should never have believed — he swore he would give me the sure-footed horses of proud Achilles's son, and the bronze-trimmed chariot too, and he ordered me to go through the swift dark night, close to the enemy, and find out whether the fast ships are still guarded as before, or whether, already beaten down by our hands, you are plotting flight among yourselves, unwilling to keep the night watch, worn out with terrible weariness." Odysseus smiled and answered him:
"Your heart really did reach for a great prize — the horses of warlike Aeacus's grandson. They are hard for mortal men to master or drive, for any man but Achilles, whom an immortal mother bore. But come, tell me this and answer truly: where did you leave Hector, shepherd of his people, when you set out? Where does his war-gear lie, and where are his horses? How are the other Trojans posted for watch and sleep? What are they planning among themselves — do they mean to hold their position by the ships, far off as they are, or fall back to the city
now that they've beaten the Greeks?" Dolon, son of Eumedes, answered him: "I will tell you all this, truly and exactly. Hector is meeting with the other counselors beside the tomb of godlike Ilus, away from the noise of the camp. As for the guards you ask about, hero, there is no chosen watch keeping the camp — only where the Trojans themselves have their fires, there necessity forces them to stay awake and stand guard, calling to one another. But the allies, gathered from many lands,
are asleep — they leave the watch to the Trojans, since their own children and wives are not close by." Resourceful Odysseus answered him: "How then — are they sleeping mixed in among the horse-taming Trojans, or apart? Tell me clearly, so I understand." Dolon, son of Eumedes, answered him: "I will tell you this too, truly and exactly. Toward the sea are the Carians, the Paeonians with their curved bows, the Leleges, the Cauconians, and the noble Pelasgians; toward Thymbra fall the Lycians, the proud Mysians,
the horse-fighting Phrygians, and the helmeted Maeonians. But why do you press me on every detail? If you two mean to slip down into the Trojan ranks, there are the Thracians, newly arrived, set apart from the rest, at the outer edge — and among them is Rhesus, their king, son of Eioneus. I have seen his horses — the finest and biggest I know — whiter than snow, and swift as the wind. His chariot is finely worked with gold and silver, and he came bearing golden armor, huge, a wonder to behold —
armor no mortal man should wear, but only the immortal gods. Now, bring me down to the swift ships, or leave me here bound tight and helpless, until you come back and test whether I have told you the truth or not." Mighty Diomedes looked at him darkly and answered: "Don't let your mind dwell on escape, Dolon, even though you have brought us good news, now that you have fallen into our hands.
If we release you now, or let you go, you will surely come again later to the fast ships of the Greeks, either to spy on us or to fight us face to face. But if I kill you with my own hands, you will never again be a torment to the Greeks." With that — just as Dolon reached up to touch his chin with a heavy hand and beg for mercy — Diomedes struck him across the neck with his sword, cutting through both tendons; his head was still speaking when it rolled into the dust. They stripped from his head the weasel-skin cap,
took the wolf-pelt, the curved bow, and the long spear, and radiant Odysseus held them up high in his hand as an offering to Athena, goddess of spoils, saying: "Hail, goddess — of all the immortals on Olympus, you are the first we will offer these to. Now guide us once more to the horses and beds of the Thracian men." So he spoke, and lifting the spoils high, he set them upon a tamarisk bush and marked the place clearly, gathering reeds and leafy branches of tamarisk, so they would not miss it coming back through the swift dark night.
Then the two moved on through the weapons and the dark blood, and soon reached the camp of the Thracian men. They were asleep, worn out with weariness, and their fine war-gear lay beside them on the ground, neatly arranged in three rows, with a pair of horses beside each man. Rhesus slept in the middle, and beside him his swift horses were tied by their reins to the rail of his chariot. Odysseus saw him first and pointed him out to Diomedes: "There is the man, Diomedes, and there are the horses that Dolon, whom we killed, told us about.
Now put your strength to use — there's no reason to stand idle in your armor. Loose the horses — or else kill the men, and I'll see to the horses." So he spoke, and gray-eyed Athena breathed fury into Diomedes, and he began killing on every side. Ugly groans rose up from men struck down by the sword, and the earth ran red with blood. As a lion falls upon an unguarded flock — sheep or goats — with murder in mind, so Tydeus's son fell upon the Thracian men,
until he had killed twelve. Meanwhile resourceful Odysseus, whenever Diomedes struck a man down beside him with his sword, would grab him by the foot from behind and drag him out of the way,
thinking to himself how the fine-maned horses might pass through easily, without shying — they were not yet used to stepping over corpses. But when Tydeus's son reached the king, he took the sweet life from him as the thirteenth man, gasping his last — for a wicked dream had stood over his head that night, sent by the scheme of Athena, granddaughter of Zeus. Meanwhile brave Odysseus was loosing the sure-footed horses, tying them together with their reins, and driving them out from the crowd,
striking them with his bow, since he had not thought to snatch the bright whip from the ornate chariot. Then he gave a whistle, a signal to godlike Diomedes. But Diomedes stood there, weighing in his mind what boldest thing he might yet do — whether to take hold of the chariot where the fine gear lay, and drag it out by the pole, or lift it up and carry it off, or take still more of the Thracians' lives. While he turned this over in his heart, Athena came and stood close beside him and said to godlike Diomedes: "Think now of returning, great-hearted son of Tydeus,
back to the hollow ships — or you may find yourself driven there in flight, if some other god should rouse the Trojans against you." So she spoke, and he recognized the voice of the goddess speaking, and quickly mounted the horses. Odysseus struck them with his bow, and they flew on toward the swift ships of the Greeks. But Apollo of the silver bow was not keeping careless watch — he saw Athena at the side of Tydeus's son, and in his anger at her he plunged into the great crowd of Trojans and roused Hippocoon, a Thracian counselor,
a noble cousin of Rhesus. Starting up out of sleep, he saw the empty space where the swift horses had been standing, and the men gasping in the agony of slaughter, and he cried aloud and called his dear comrade's name. A clamor rose among the Trojans, and terrible confusion, as they crowded together and stared in horror at the grim work the two men had done before making their way back to the hollow ships. And when the two reached the place where they had killed Hector's watchman, Odysseus, dear to Zeus, reined in the swift horses there, while Tydeus's son leapt down to the ground, put the bloody spoils into Odysseus's hands, and mounted the horses again; he lashed them on, and they flew, not unwilling,
toward the hollow ships, for that was where his heart longed to be. Nestor was the first to hear the sound and spoke: "Friends, leaders and counselors of the Greeks, am I wrong, or do I speak the truth? My heart tells me to say it — the sound of swift-footed horses strikes my ears. If only Odysseus and mighty Diomedes were driving sure-footed horses out of the Trojan camp this very moment! But I fear terribly in my heart that the bravest of the Greeks may have come to harm in the Trojan uproar."
He had not finished speaking when the two men themselves arrived. They climbed down to the ground, and the others, overjoyed, welcomed them with handclasps and gentle words. Gerenian Nestor, master of horsemen, was first to question them: "Tell me, Odysseus, great glory of the Greeks, whom all men praise — how did you two capture these horses? Did you slip down into the Trojan ranks, or did some god meet you and give them as a gift? They are astonishingly like rays of the sun. I am always mixing it up with the Trojans, and I don't think I linger by the ships, old warrior as I am —
but I have never before seen or imagined horses like these. No, I think some god must have met one of you and given them." — for the cloud-gathering son of Cronus loves you both, and so does his daughter, gray-eyed Athena." Resourceful Odysseus answered him: "Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Greeks, a god, if he wished, could easily give even finer horses than these, since the gods are far mightier than we are. But these horses, old man, that you now ask about, are newly arrived — Thracian. Mighty Diomedes killed their master,
and beside him twelve of his best comrades. A thirteenth man we killed was a scout close by the ships, whom Hector and the other proud Trojans had sent out to spy on our camp." So speaking, he drove the sure-footed horses across the trench, laughing with triumph, and the other Greeks went along beside him, rejoicing. When they reached the well-built shelter of Diomedes, they tied the horses with well-cut leather straps at the manger where Diomedes's own horses stood, eating sweet grain. And Odysseus set the bloody spoils of Dolon in the stern of his ship,
so that they might prepare them as an offering to Athena. Then the two men waded into the sea and washed off the heavy sweat, from their shins, their necks, and around their thighs. When the sea's waves had washed the thick sweat from their bodies and refreshed their spirits, they went and bathed in smooth-polished tubs. And once they had bathed and rubbed themselves with rich oil, they sat down to a meal, and from a full mixing-bowl they drew off sweet wine and poured it out to Athena.