Towering upon his Thracian battle-wain.
Golden the yoke-beam was that linked the necks
Of car-steeds gleaming whiter than the snow.
Upon his shoulders his gold-blazoned targe 305
Flashed: a bronze Gorgon, as on Pallas' shield,
Upon the frontlet of his horses bound,
Clanging with many a bell clashed forth dismay.
The number of his host thou couldst not sum
In strict account—eye could not measure it. 310
Many a knight, long lines of targeteers,
And archers multitudinous, and a swarm
Of dartmen passed, accoutred Thracian-wise.
Such warrior is at hand for Troy's ally
As Peleus' son shall not prevail to escape, 315
Fleeing or biding onset of the spear.
Chorus.
When to our burghers heaven lends present aid,
Down-gliding to success fleets Fortune's stream.
Hector.
Ha, many a friend shall I find, now my spear
Is triumphing, and Zeus is on our side! 320
But need we have none of such as in days past
Shared not our toil, when Ares buffeting
With mighty blast was rending this land's sails.
Then Rhesus showed what friend he was to Troy.
To the feast he comes, who came not to the hunters 325
With help of spear, what time they took the prey.
Chorus.
Rightly dost thou contemn and blame such friends:
Yet welcome them that fain would help our Troy.
