Diomedes.
What then, Odysseus, shall we do? The man 580
We find not on his couch: our hopes are foiled.
Odysseus.
Return we to the ships' array in haste.
Some God, whoever giveth him good speed,
Shields him. 'Tis not for us to strive with fate.
Diomedes.
Nay, on Aeneas fall we, or on Paris— 585
Of foes most hated,—and smite off their heads.
Odysseus.
How in the dark, amidst a host of foes,
Unperilled wilt thou search, and slay these twain?
Diomedes.
Yet base it were to hie to Argos' ships
With nought of mischief to the foe achieved. 590
Odysseus.
Nothing achieved? Have we not slain the spy
Upon the galleys, Dolon? Have we not
His spoils? Look'st thou to ravage all their camp?
Hear me—return we; so good speed be ours.
Athena appears above the stage.
Athena.
Ho! whither go ye, from the lines of Troy 595
Fleeing, with sorrow rankling in your hearts
