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combat fighting in full armour, your bow and your arrows would serve<br />

you in little stead. Vain is your boast in that you have scratched<br />

the sole of my foot. I care no more than if a girl or some silly boy<br />

had hit me. A worthless coward can inflict but a light wound; when<br />

I wound a man though I but graze his skin it is another matter, <strong>for</strong><br />

my weapon will lay him low. His wife will tear her cheeks <strong>for</strong> grief<br />

and his children will be fatherless: there will he rot, reddening<br />

the earth with his blood, and vultures, not women, will gather round<br />

him."<br />

Thus he spoke, but Ulysses came up and stood over him. Under this<br />

cover he sat down to draw the arrow from his foot, and sharp was the<br />

pain he suffered as he did so. <strong>The</strong>n he sprang on to his chariot and<br />

bade the charioteer drive him to the ships, <strong>for</strong> he was sick at heart.<br />

Ulysses was now alone; not one of the Argives stood <strong>by</strong> him, <strong>for</strong> they<br />

were all panic-­‐stricken. "Alas," said he to himself in his dismay,<br />

"what will become of me? It is ill if I turn and fly be<strong>for</strong>e these<br />

odds, but it will be worse if I am left alone and taken prisoner,<br />

<strong>for</strong> the son of Saturn has struck the rest of the Danaans with panic.<br />

But why talk to myself in this way? Well do I know that though cowards<br />

quit the field, a hero, whether he wound or be wounded, must stand<br />

firm and hold his own."<br />

While he was thus in two minds, the ranks of the Trojans advanced<br />

and hemmed him in, and bitterly did they come to me it. As hounds<br />

and lusty youths set upon a wild boar that sallies from his lair whetting<br />

his white tusks-­‐ they attack him from every side and can hear the

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