And the brute's gaping jaws shall frame mine head:
Its forefeet will I fasten to my hands, 210
Its legs to mine: the wolf's fourfooted gait
I'll mimic, baffling so our enemies,
While near the trench and pale of ships I am:
But whenso to a lone spot come my feet,
Two-footed will I walk: my ruse is this. 215
Chorus.
Now kindly speed thee Hermes, Maia's son,
Thither and back, prince of the guileful he!
Thou know'st thy work: thou needest but good speed.
Dolon.
Return I shall, with slain Odysseus' head
To show thee,—when thou hast this token sure, 220
"Dolon," shalt thou say, "reached the Argive ships,"—
Or Tydeus' son's head. Not with bloodless hand
Will I win home ere dawn rise o'er the earth.
Chorus.
(Str. 1)
O King Thymbræan, O Delian Lord, O haunter of Lycia's fane,
O sunlit brow, with thy bow do thou, Apollo, this night draw near:
To our hero's perilous mission be guide and saviour, and O maintain, 230
Almighty helper, our cause, who of old didst the ramparts of Troy uprear.
(Ant. 1)
May he win to the galleys and enter the host of Hellas, and spy out their deeds,
