Charioteer.
Why threaten these, and strive, barbarian thou,
To cozen barbarian wit with glozing speech?
Thine was the deed! None other shall the dead, 835
Or wounded living, hold to be thereof
Guilty! Long speech and subtle shalt thou need
To make me think thou murderedst not thy friends,
As coveting the steeds, for which thou slayest
Allies whose coming was so straitly urged. 840
They came—they are dead! More seemly Paris shamed
Guest-faith, than thou, who murderest thine allies!
Nay, never tell me 'twas some Argive came
And slew us! Who could through the Trojan lines
Have passed, and won to us, unmarked of them? 845
Before us camped were thou and Phrygia's host:—
Of thy friends who was wounded then, who slain,
When came the foes whereof thou tellest us?
We—some are wounded, some have suffered scathe
More deadly, and the sun's light see no more. 850
In plain words, no Achaian we accuse.
Who of the foe had come, and in the night
Found Rhesus' couch—except a very God
Guided the slayers? They not even knew
That he had come! Now nay, this plot is thine. 855
Hector.
Long time have I had dealings with allies,
Long as Achaian folk have trod my land;
Nor ever bare I ill report of them.
With thee should I begin? May no such lust
For steeds take me, that I should slay my friends! 860
