Rhesus (756-770)

A sorry deed it was, and more than that a deed most shameful; yes, it is an evil doubly bad; to die with glory, if die one must, is bitterness enough I think to him who dies—how not?—

though to the living it may add dignity and honor for their house. But we have died foolishly and without glory. No sooner had great Hector given us our quarters and told us the password than we lay down to sleep upon the ground, overcome by weariness. No guard our army set

to watch by night, nor were our arms set in array, nor were the whips hung ready on the horses’ yokes, for our prince was told that you were masters now, and had encamped hard on their ships; so carelessly we threw ourselves down to sleep.

Now I with thoughtful mind awoke from my slumber, and with ungrudging hand measured out the horses’ feed, expecting to harness them at dawn for the fray; through the thick gloom two men I see roaming around our army. But when I roused myself