ontinual thrown behind.
But not unnoticed by Minerva pass'd
The art by Phoebus practised to impede
The son of Tydeus, whom with winged haste 490
Following, she gave to him his scourge again,
And with new force his lagging steeds inspired.
Eumelus, next, the angry Goddess, swift
Pursuing, snapt his yoke; wide flew the mares
Asunder, and the pole fell to the ground. 495
Himself, roll'd from his seat, fast by the wheel
With lacerated elbows, nostrils, mouth,
And batter'd brows lay prone; sorrow his eyes
Deluged, and disappointment chok'd his voice.
Then, far outstripping all, Tydides push'd 500
His steeds beyond, which Pallas fill'd with power
That she might make the glorious prize his own.
Him follow'd Menelaus amber-hair'd,
The son of Atreus, and his father's steeds
Encouraging, thus spake Antilochus. 505
Away--now stretch ye forward to the goal.
I bid you not to an unequal strife
With those of Diomede, for Pallas them
Quickens that he may conquer, and the Chief
So far advanced makes competition vain. 510
But reach the son of Atreus, fly to reach
His steeds, incontinent; ah, be not shamed
For ever, foil'd by AEthe, by a mare!
Why fall ye thus behind, my noblest steeds?
I tell you both, and ye shall prove me true, 515
No favor shall ye find at Nestor's hands,
My valiant sire, but he will thrust his spear
Right through you, should we lose, for sloth of yours,
Or by your negligence, the nobler prize.
Haste then--pursue him--reach the royal Chief-- 520
And how to pass him in yon narrow way
Shall be my care, and not my care in vain.
He ended; they, awhile, awed by his voice,
With more exertion ran, and Nestor's son
Now saw the hollow strait mark'd by his sire. 525
It was a chasm abrupt, where winter-floods,
Wearing the soil, had gullied deep the way.
Thither Atrides, anxious to avoid
A clash of chariots drove, and thither drove
Also, but somewhat devious from his track, 530
Antilochus. Then Menelaus fear'd,
And with loud voice the son of Nestor hail'd.
Antilochus, at what a madman's rate
Drivest thou! stop--check thy steeds--the way is here
Too strait, but widening soon, will give thee scope 535
To pass me by; beware, lest