Ulysses. Woe is me! I must fly hence.
Tho’ he should know me not, I fear to face him,
My hated foe, alert, invincible
Of will, full of self-love and mortal guile.[Exit.
Enter Ulysses from the bushes, followed by Diomede, who wears a Lion’s skin.
DIOMEDE.
We have made the circuit of the hill, and here
Into the gardens are come round again.
What now?
ULYSSES.