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With plates of brass the corslet cover'd o'er,
The same renown'd Asteropaeus wore,)
Whose glittering margins raised with silver shine,
No vulgar gift,) Eumelus! shall be thine."
(
(
He said: Automedon at his command
The corslet brought, and gave it to his hand.
Distinguish'd by his friend, his bosom glows
With generous joy: then Menelaus rose;
The herald placed the sceptre in his hands,
And still'd the clamour of the shouting bands.
Not without cause incensed at Nestor's son,
And inly grieving, thus the king begun:
"The praise of wisdom, in thy youth obtain'd,
An act so rash, Antilochus! has stain'd.
Robb'd of my glory and my just reward,
To you, O Grecians! be my wrong declared:
So not a leader shall our conduct blame,
Or judge me envious of a rival's fame.
But shall not we, ourselves, the truth maintain?
What needs appealing in a fact so plain?
What Greek shall blame me, if I bid thee rise,
And vindicate by oath th' ill-gotten prize?
Rise if thou darest, before thy chariot stand,
The driving scourge high-lifted in thy hand;
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