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Updated: May 16, 2025
"That's true, that's very true, my dear Maury. Fontaine, now, behind us in the ranks, his shoes are all worn out. Fontaine, eh? Fontaine knows more Greek than any man and he'll be good to Pluto. Pluto's almost worn out himself he's not immortal like Xanthius and Balius. Do you know, Maury, it's little wonder that Gulliver found the Houyhnhnms so detesting war?
The nags were of the huckleberry or flea-bitten variety, a freckled white. Perhaps the quack had fed them with his refuse pills. These knobby-legged unfortunates we of course named Xanthus and Balius, not of podargous or swift-footed, but podagrous or gouty race. Balius was in equally deplorable mood. Both seemed more sensible to "Whoa" than to "Hadaap."
He bade Automedon yoke his horses with all speed, for he was the man whom he held in honour next after Achilles, and on whose support in battle he could rely most firmly. Automedon therefore yoked the fleet horses Xanthus and Balius, steeds that could fly like the wind: these were they whom the harpy Podarge bore to the west wind, as she was grazing in a meadow by the waters of the river Oceanus.
We therefore asked no questions, but waited patiently for information. Delay pays demurrage to the wisely patient. Coachee relapsed into the sulks. The driving rain resolved itself into a dim chaos of mist. Xanthus and Balius plodded on, but often paused and gasped, or, turning their heads as if they missed something, strayed from the track and drew us against the dripping bushes.
Patroclus armed himself in the shining armour of Achilles, which all Trojans feared, and leaped into the chariot where Automedon, the squire, had harnessed Xanthus and Balius, two horses that were the children, men said, of the West Wind, and a led horse was harnessed beside them in the side traces.
Then with a loud voice he chided with his father's horses saying, "Xanthus and Balius, famed offspring of Podarge this time when we have done fighting be sure and bring your driver safely back to the host of the Achaeans, and do not leave him dead on the plain as you did Patroclus."
On issuing forth to the fight he addressed his two horses: "Xanthus and Balius, bethink you how ye may save your charioteer when he hath done with the battle, and desert him not in death as ye did Patroclus." In reply they prophesied his coming end. "For this we are not to blame, but the mighty god and violent Fate.
The damster, a stalwart brown chieftain of the backwoodsman race, received us with hearty hospitality. Xanthus and Balius stumbled away on their homeward journey. And after them the crazy coach went moaning: it was not strong enough to creak or rattle. Next day was rainy. It had, however, misty intervals. In these we threw a fly for trout and caught a chub in Androscoggin.
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