But, warriors, you that youthful vigour boast, The flower of Greece, the examples of our host, Sprung from such fathers, who such numbers sway, Can you stand trembling, and desert the day?" His warm reproofs the listening kings inflame; And nine, the noblest of the Grecian name, Up-started fierce: but far before the rest The king of men advanced his dauntless breast: Then bold Tydides, great in arms, appear'd; And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear'd; Oileus follow'd; Idomen was there,(180) And Merion, dreadful as the god of war: With these Eurypylus and Thoas stand, And wise Ulysses closed the daring band. All these, alike inspired with noble rage, Demand the fight. To whom the Pylian sage: "Lest thirst of glory your brave souls divide, What chief shall combat, let the gods decide. Whom heaven shall choose, be his the chance to raise His country's fame, his own immortal praise." The lots produced, each hero signs his own: Then in the general's helm the fates are thrown,(181) The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands, And vows like these ascend from all the bands: "Grant, thou Almighty! in whose hand is fate, A worthy champion for the Grecian state: This task let Ajax or Tydides prove, Or he, the king of kings, beloved by Jove." Old Nestor shook the casque. By heaven inspired, Leap'd forth the lot, of every Greek desired. This from the right to left the herald bears, Held out in order to the Grecian peers; Each to his rival yields the mark unknown, Till godlike Ajax finds the lot his own; Surveys the inscription with rejoicing eyes, Then casts before him, and with transport cries: "Warriors! I claim the lot, and arm with joy; Be mine the conquest of this chief of Troy. Now while my brightest arms my limbs invest, To Saturn's son be all your vows address'd: But pray in secret, lest the foes should hear, And deem your prayers the mean effect of fear. Said I in secret? No, your v