lead the race: I well discern him, as he shakes the rein, And hear his shouts victorious o'er the plain." Thus he. Idomeneus, incensed, rejoin'd: "Barbarous of words! and arrogant of mind! Contentious prince, of all the Greeks beside The last in merit, as the first in pride! To vile reproach what answer can we make? A goblet or a tripod let us stake, And be the king the judge. The most unwise Will learn their rashness, when they pay the price." He said: and Ajax, by mad passion borne, Stern had replied; fierce scorn enhancing scorn To fell extremes. But Thetis' godlike son Awful amidst them rose, and thus begun: "Forbear, ye chiefs! reproachful to contend; Much would ye blame, should others thus offend: And lo! the approaching steeds your contest end." No sooner had he spoke, but thundering near, Drives, through a stream of dust, the charioteer. High o'er his head the circling lash he wields: His bounding horses scarcely touch the fields: His car amidst the dusty whirlwind roll'd, Bright with the mingled blaze of tin and gold, Refulgent through the cloud: no eye could find The track his flying wheels had left behind: And the fierce coursers urged their rapid pace So swift, it seem'd a flight, and not a race. Now victor at the goal Tydides stands, Quits his bright car, and springs upon the sands; From the hot steeds the sweaty torrents stream; The well-plied whip is hung athwart the beam: With joy brave Sthenelus receives the prize, The tripod-vase, and dame with radiant eyes: These to the ships his train triumphant leads, The chief himself unyokes the panting steeds. Young Nestor follows (who by art, not force, O'erpass'd Atrides) second in the course. Behind, Atrides urged the race, more near Than to the courser in his swift career The following car, just touching with his heel And brushing with his tail the whirling wheel: Such, and so narrow now the space between The rivals