Ten minutes after, when the prey was lost!
You wore an open skull-cap with a twist
Of water-reeds—the plume being hewn away;
While I drove down my battle from the heights,
I saw with my own eyes!
Tib. And you are Luria
Who sent my cohort, that laid down its arms
In error of the battle-signal's sense,
Back safely to me at the critical time—
One of a hundred deeds. I know you! Therefore