nest by Simois her piteous plaint, sweet singer of the many trills; already along Ida's slopes they are pasturing the flocks, and o'er the night I catch the shrill pipe's note; sleep on my closing eyelids softly steals, the sweetest sleep that comes at dawn to tired eyes.
- Semicho. Why doth not our scout draw near, whom Hector sent to spy the fleet?
- He is so long away, I have my fears.
- Is it possible he hath plunged into a hidden ambush and been slain?
- Soon must we know.
- My counsel is we go and rouse the Lycians to the fifth watch, as the lot ordained.
Enter Diomedes and Odysseus cautiously with drawn swords.
Odys. Didst not hear, O Diomedes, the clash of arms? or is it an idle noise that rings in my ears?
Dio. Nay, 'tis the rattle of steel harness on the chariot-rails; me, too, did fear assail, till I perceived 'twas but the clang of horses' chains.
Odys. Beware thou stumble not upon the guard in the darkness.
Dio. I will take good care how I advance even in this gloom.
Odys. If however thou shouldst rouse them, dost know their watchword?
Dio. Yea, 'tis "Phœbus;" I heard Dolon use it.
Odys. Ha! the foe I see have left this bivouac.
Dio. Yet Dolon surely said that here was Hector's couch, against whom this sword of mine is drawn.
Odys. What can it mean? Is his company withdrawn elsewhere?
Dio. Perhaps to form some stratagem against us.
