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not like to be told so. ‘It’s really
dreadful,’ she muttered to herself, ‘the way all the creatures argue.
It’s enough to drive one crazy!’
The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating his
remark, with variations. ‘I shall sit here,’ he said, ‘on and off, for
days and days.’
‘But what am I to do?’ said Alice.
‘Anything you like,’ said the Footman, and began whistling.
‘Oh, there’s no use in talking to him,’ said Alice desperately: ‘he’s
perfectly idiotic!’ And she opene
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god?
Not those fair steeds, so radiant and so gay,
That draw the burning chariot of the day.
Old as I am, to age I scorn to yield,
And daily mingle in the martial field;
But sure till now no coursers struck my sight
Like these, conspicuous through the ranks of fight.
Some god, I deem, conferred the glorious prize,
Bless'd as ye are, and favourites of the skies;
The care of him who bids the thunder roar,
And her, whose fury bathes the world with gore."
"Father! not so, (sage Ithacus rejoin'd,)
The gifts of heaven are of a nobler kind.
Of Thracian lineage are the steeds ye view,
Whose hostile king the brave Tydides slew;
Sleeping he died, with all his guards around,
And twelve beside lay gasping on the ground.
These other spoils from conquer'd Dolon came,
A wretch, whose swiftness was his only fame;
By Hector sent our forces to explore,
He now lies headless on the sandy shore."
Then o'er the trench the bounding coursers flew;
The joyful Greeks with loud acclaim pursue.
Straight to Tydides' high pavilion borne,
The matchless steeds his ample stalls adorn:
The neighing coursers their new fellows greet,
And the full racks are heap'd with generous wheat.
But Dolon's armour, to his ships convey'd,
High on the painted stern Ulysses laid,
A trophy destin'd to the blue-eyed maid.
Now from nocturnal sweat and sanguine stain
They cleanse their bodies in the neighb'ring main:
Then in the polished bath, refresh'd from toil,
Their joints they supple with dissolving oil,
In due repast indulge the genial hour,
And first to Pallas the libations pour:
They sit, rejoicing in her aid divine,
And the crown'd goblet foams with floods of wine.
BOOK XI.
ARGUMENT
THE THIRD BATTLE, AND THE ACTS OF AGAMEMNON.
Agamemnon, having armed himself, leads the Grecians to battle; Hector
prepares the Trojans to receive them, while Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva
give the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all before him and H