Part 4 (1/2)

CHORUS. [vv. 224-255]

Thymbraean, Delian, Birth divine, That walkest Lycia's inmost shrine, Come, strong to guard, to guide, to follow, Come, bow in hand and girt with night, To help thy Dardans as of old, When stone by stone thy music rolled-- O conquering Strength, O Sire Apollo!-- Young Ilion into towers of light.

Grant that he reach the s.h.i.+pyard, creep Keen-eyed through all that host asleep, Then back to home and hearth, yet living, Where now his father prays alone: Yea, grant that, when the Greeks are slain, Our wolf shall mount with scourge and rein Those coursers of the sea-G.o.d's giving, Whom Peleus drove in days foregone.

Alone in those Greek s.h.i.+ps to stake His life, for home and country's sake: 'Tis wondrous! Few be hearts so true When seas across the bulwark break, And sunlight sickens o'er the crew.

Ah, Phrygia still hath hearts of rock!

The Phrygian spear flies fast and far!

Where shall ye find the fool to mock Our works in war?

Whom will he stab a-sleeping, whom, The quick grey wolf, the crawling doom?

Grant that he slay the Spartan! Nay, Or Agamemnon's head and plume [vv. 256-272]

To Helen bear at dawn of day!

A lightsome dawn to hear her wail Her brother sworn, her King who came To Ilion with his thousand sail, And swords, and flame!

[_As the song ends_ DOLON _reappears, in the disguise of a wolf. The Guards gather round him, bidding him G.o.dspeed as he crawls off in the dark towards the Greek camp. Meantime from the direction of Mount Ida has entered a_ SHEPHERD _who goes to_ HECTOR's _door and calls. The Guards seeing him return to their places._

SHEPHERD.

Ho, Master!

[_Enter_ HECTOR _from tent_.

I would it ofttimes were my luck to share As goodly news with thee as now I bear.

HECTOR.

What dulness hangs about these shepherds! Block, Com'st thou to us with tidings of thy flock Here in the field in arms? Who wants thee here?

Thou know'st my house; thou know'st my father's.

There Tell all about thy lucky lambs.--Now go.

SHEPHERD.

Dull wits, we shepherds! Aye, 'twas alway so.

Yet still, there is some good news to be told.

HECTOR. [vv. 273-288]

A truce there to thy gossip of the fold!

Our dealings are of war, of sword and spear.

[_He turns to go._

SHEPHERD.

Aye; so were mine. That is what brought me here.

[HECTOR's _manner changes_.

A chief comes yonder, leading a great band Of spears, with help to thee and all the land.

HECTOR.