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to the neck; he cut
this vein clean away throughout its whole course, and Thoon fell in the
dust face upwards, stretching out his hands imploringly towards his
comrades. Antilochus sprang upon him and stripped the armour from his
shoulders, glaring round him fearfully as he did so. The Trojans came
about him on every side and struck his broad and gleaming shield, but
could not wound his body, for Neptune stood guard over the son of
Nestor, though the darts fell thickly round him. He was never clear of
the foe, but was always in the thick of the fight; his spear was never
idle; he poised and aimed it in every direction, so eager was he to hit
someone from a distance or to fight him hand to hand.

As he was thus aiming among the crowd, he was seen by Adamas, son of
Asius, who rushed towards him and struck him with a spear in the middle
of his shield, but Neptune made its point without effect, for he
grudged him the life of Antilochus. One half, therefore, of the spear
stuck fast like a charred stake in Antilochus's shield, while the other
lay on the ground. Adamas then sought shelter under cover of his men,
but Meriones followed after and hit him with a spear midway between the
private parts and the navel, where a wound is particularly painful to
wretched mortals. There did Meriones transfix him, and he writhed
convulsively about the spear as some bull whom mountain herdsmen have
bound with ropes of withes and are taking away perforce. Even so did he
move convulsively for a while, but not for very long, till Meriones
came up and drew the spear out of his body, and his eyes were veiled in
darkness.

Helenus then struck Deipyrus with a great Thracian sword, hitting him
on the temple in close combat and tearing the helmet from his head; the
helmet fell to the ground, and one of those who were fighting on the
Achaean side took charge of it as it rolled at his feet, but the eyes
of Deipyrus were closed in the darkness of death.

On this Menelaus was grieved, and made menacingly towards Helenus,
brandishing his spear; but Helenus drew his bow, and the two attacked
one another at one and the same moment, the one with his spear, and the
other with his bow and arrow. The son of Priam hit the breastplate of
Menelaus's corslet, but the arrow glanced from off it. As black beans
or pulse come pattering down on to a threshing-floor from the broad
winnowing-shovel, blown by shrill winds and shaken by the shovel--even
so did the arrow glance off and recoil from the shield of Menelaus, who
in his turn wounded the hand with which Helenus carried his bow; the
spear went right through his hand and stuck in the bow itself, so that
to his life he retreated under cover of his men, with his hand dragging
by his side--for the spear weighed it down till Agenor drew it out and
bound the hand carefully up in a woollen sling which his esquire had
with him.

Pisander then made straight at Menelaus--his evil destiny luring him on
to his doom, for he was to fall in fight with you, O Menelaus. When the
two were hard by one another the spear of the son of Atreus turned
aside and he missed his aim; Pisander then struck the shield of brave
Menelaus but could not pierce it, for the shield stayed the spear and
broke the shaft; nevertheless he was glad and made sure of victory;
forthwith, however, the son of Atreus drew his sword and sprang upon
him. Pisander then seized the bronze battle-axe, with its long and
polished handle of olive wood that hung by his side under his shield,
and the two made at one another. Pisander struck the peak of Menelaus's
crested helmet just under the crest itself, and Menelaus hit Pisander
as he was coming towards him, on the forehead, just at the rise of his
nose; the bones cracked and his two gore-bedrabbled eyes fell by his
feet in the dust. He fell backwards to the ground, and Menelaus set his
heel upon him, stripped him of his armour, and vaunted over him saying,
"Even thus shall you Trojans leave the ships of the Achaeans, proud and
insatiate of battle though you be, nor shall you lack any of the
disgrace and shame which you have heaped upon myself. Cowardly
she-wolves that you are, you feared not the anger of dread Jove,
avenger of violated hospitality, who will one day destroy your city;
you stole my wedded wife and wickedly carried off much treasure when
you were her guest, and now you would fling fire upon our ships, and
kill our heroes. A day will come when, rage as you may, you shall be
stayed. O father Jove, you, who they say art above all, both gods and
men, in wisdom, and from whom all things that befall us do proceed, how
can you thus favour the Trojans--men so proud and overweening, that
they are never tired of fighting? All things pall after a while--sleep,
love, sweet song, and stately dance--still these are things of which a
man would surely have his fill rather than of battle, whereas it is of
battle that the Trojans are insatiate."

So saying Menelaus stripped the blood-stained armour from the body of
Pisander, and handed it over to his men; then he again ranged himself
among those who were in the front of the fight.

Harpalion son of King Pylaemenes then sprang upon him; he had come to
fight at Troy along with his father, but he did not go home again. He
struck the middle of Menelaus's shield with his spear but could not
pierce it, and to save his life drew back under cover of his men,
looking round him on every side lest he should be wounded. But Meriones
aimed a bronze-tipped arrow at him as he was leaving the field, and hit
him on the right buttock; the arrow pierced the bone through and
through, and penetrated the bladder, so he sat down where he was and
breathed his last in the arms of his comrades, stretched like a worm
upon the ground and watering the earth with the blood that flowed from
his wound. The brave Paphlagonians tended him with all due care; they
raised him into his chariot, and bore him sadly off to the city of
Troy; his father went also with him weeping bitterly, but there was no
ransom that could bring his dead son to life again.

Paris was deeply grieved by the death of Harpalion, who was his host
when he went among the Paphlagonians; he aimed an arrow, therefore, in
order to avenge him. Now there was a certain man named Euchenor, son of
Polyidus the prophet, a brave man and wealthy, whose home was in
Corinth. This Euchenor had set sail for Troy well knowing that it would
be the death of him, for his good old father Polyidus had often told
him that he must either stay at home and die of a terrible disease, or
go with the Achaeans and perish at the hands of the Trojans; he chose,
therefore, to avoid incurring the heavy fine the Achaeans would have
laid upon him, and at the same time to escape the pain and suffering of
disease. Paris now smote him on the jaw under his ear, whereon the life
went out of him and he was enshrouded in the darkness of death.

Thus then did they fight as it were a flaming fire. But Hector had not
yet heard, and did not know that the Argives were making havoc of his
men on the left wing of the battle, where the Achaeans ere long would
have triumphed over them, so vigorously did Neptune cheer them on and
help them. He therefore held on at the point where he had first forced
his way through the gates and the wall, after breaking through the
serried ranks of Danaan warriors. It was here that the ships of Ajax
and Protesilaus were drawn up by the sea-shore; here the wall was at
its lowest, and the fight both of man and horse raged most fiercely.
The Boeotians and the Ionians with their long tunics, the Locrians, the
men of Phthia, and the famous force of the Epeans could hardly stay
Hector as he rushed on towards the ships, nor could they drive him from
them, for he was as a wall of fire. The chosen men of the Athenians
were in the van, led by Menestheus son of Peteos, with whom were also
Pheidas, Stichius, and stalwart Bias; Meges son of Phyleus, Amphion,
and Dracius commanded the Epeans, while Medon and staunch Podarces led
the men of Phthia. Of these, Medon was bastard son to Oileus and
brother of Ajax, but he lived in Phylace away from his own country, for
he had killed the brother of his stepmother Eriopis, the wife of
Oileus; the other, Podarces, was the son of Iphiclus, son of Phylacus.
These two stood in the van of the Phthians, and defended the ships
along with the Boeotians.

Ajax son of Oileus, never for a moment left the side of Ajax, son of
Telamon, but as two swart oxen both strain their utmost at the plough
which they are drawing in a fallow field, and the sweat steams upwards
from about the roots of their horns--nothing but the yoke divides them
as they break up the ground till they reach the end of the field--even
so did the two Ajaxes stand shoulder to shoulder by one another. Many
and brave comrades followed the son of Telamon, to relieve him of his
shield when he was overcome with sweat and toil, but the Locrians did
not follow so close after the son of Oileus, for they could not hold
their own in a hand-to-hand fight. They had no bronze helmets with
plumes of horse-hair, neither had they shields nor ashen spears, but
they had come to Troy armed with bows, and with slings of twisted wool
from which they showered their missiles to break the ranks of the
Trojans. The others, therefore, with their heavy armour bore the brunt
of the fight with the Trojans and with Hector, while the Locrians shot
from behind, under their cover; and thus the Trojans began to lose
heart, for the arrows threw them into confusion.

The Trojans would now have been driven in sorry plight from the ships
and tents back to windy Ilius, had not Polydamas presently said to
Hector, "Hector, there is no persuading you to take advice. Because
heaven has so richly endowed you with the arts of war, you think that
you must therefore excel others in counsel; but you cannot thus claim
preeminence in all things. Heaven has made one man an excellent
soldier; of another it has made a dancer or a singer and player on the
lyre; while yet in another Jove has implanted a wise understanding of
which men reap fruit to the saving of many, and he himself knows more
about it than any one; therefore I will say what I think will be best.
The fight has hemmed you in as with a circle of fire, and even now that
the Trojans are within the wall some of them stand aloof in full
armour, while others are fighting scattered and outnumbered near the
ships. Draw back, therefore, and call your chieftains round you, that
we may advise together whether to fall now upon the ships in the hope
that heaven may vouchsafe us victory, or to beat a retreat while we can
yet safely do so. I greatly fear that the Achaeans will pay
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