Was sleeping. In my sleep there came a dream.
I seemed to see the horses-mine own team
I had trained long since and drove at Rhesus' side-
But wolves were on their backs, wolves, couched
astride,
Who drove and scourged; I saw the horses rear
And stagger with wide nostrils, stiff with fear,
And, starting up to drive the beasts away,
I woke.-A terror of great darkness lay
About me, but I lifted up my head
And listened. There was moaning, like the dead
That moan at night, and over me there flowed,
So soft, so warm-it was my master's blood,
Who writhed beside me, dying! With a bound
I sprang up, empty-handed, groping round
For spear or sword, when, lo, a young strong man
Was close to me and slashed, and the sword ran
Deep through my flank. I felt its passage well,
So deep, so wide, so spreading . . . then I fell.
And they, they got the bridles in their hand
And fled .... Ah! Ah! This pain. I cannot
stand.
The Guards catch him as he reels, and lay
him on the ground.
I know, I saw, thus much. But why or how
Those dead men went to death I cannot know,
Nor by whose work. But this I say; God send
'Tis not foul wrong wrought on us by a friend.
LEADER.
Good charioteer of that ill-fortuned king,
Suspect us not. 'Tis Greeks have done this thing.
But yonder Hector comes. He hath been shown
The foul deed, and thy sorrows are his own.
Enter HECTOR in wrath, with a band of Guards.
HECTOR.
Ye workers of amazement! Have your eyes
No sight? Ye watch and let these Argive spies
Pass-and our friends are butchered in their sleep-1
And then pass back unwounded, laughing deep
Amid the galleys at the news they bring
Of Trojan sluggards and the fool their king?
Great God, ye never baulked them as they came,
Nor smote them as they went!
His eye falls on the CAPTAIN.
Who bears the blame
Of this but thou? Thou wast the watcher set
To guard this host till morn. I tell thee yet
For this deed-I have sworn by Zeus our Lord !-
The scourge of torment or the headsman's sword
Awaits thee. Else, be Hector in your thought
Writ down a babbler and a man of nought.
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1 P. 46, 11. 810-830. Hector and the Guard.]-There is intentional colour here-the impulsive half-barbaric rage of Hector, the oriental grovelling of the Guard, and of course the quick return to courteous self-mastery with which Hector receives the taunts of the wounded man.
The Rhesus of Euripides. Translated into English rhyming verse with explanatory notes by Gilbert Murray, LL.D., D.Litt, F.B.A., Regius Professor of Greek in the University of Oxford. Euripides. Gilbert Murray. New York. Oxford University Press. 1913.
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