thou wert, oh ever mightst thou be! And age the lot of any chief but thee." Thus to the experienced prince Atrides cried; He shook his hoary locks, and thus replied: "Well might I wish, could mortal wish renew(134) That strength which once in boiling youth I knew; Such as I was, when Ereuthalion, slain Beneath this arm, fell prostrate on the plain. But heaven its gifts not all at once bestows, These years with wisdom crowns, with action those: The field of combat fits the young and bold, The solemn council best becomes the old: To you the glorious conflict I resign, Let sage advice, the palm of age, be mine." He said. With joy the monarch march'd before, And found Menestheus on the dusty shore, With whom the firm Athenian phalanx stands; And next Ulysses, with his subject bands. Remote their forces lay, nor knew so far The peace infringed, nor heard the sounds of war; The tumult late begun, they stood intent To watch the motion, dubious of the event. The king, who saw their squadrons yet unmoved, With hasty ardour thus the chiefs reproved: "Can Peleus' son forget a warrior's part. And fears Ulysses, skill'd in every art? Why stand you distant, and the rest expect To mix in combat which yourselves neglect? From you 'twas hoped among the first to dare The shock of armies, and commence the war; For this your names are call'd before the rest, To share the pleasures of the genial feast: And can you, chiefs! without a blush survey Whole troops before you labouring in the fray? Say, is it thus those honours you requite? The first in banquets, but the last in fight." Ulysses heard: the hero's warmth o'erspread His cheek with blushes: and severe, he said: "Take back the unjust reproach! Behold we stand Sheathed in bright arms, and but expect command. If glorious deeds afford thy soul delight, Behold me plunging in the thickest fight. Then give thy warrior-chief a warrior's due, Who dar