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 us their debt of yesterday in full, for
there is one abiding at their ships who is never weary of battle,
and who will not hold aloof much longer."

Thus spoke Polydamas, and his words pleased Hector well. He
sprang in full armour from his chariot and said, "Polydamas,
gather the chieftains here; I will go yonder into the fight, but
will return at once when I have given them their orders."

He then sped onward, towering like a snowy mountain, and with a
loud cry flew through the ranks of the Trojans and their allies.
When they heard his voice they all hastened to gather round
Polydamas, the excellent son of Panthous, but Hector kept on
among the foremost, looking everywhere to find Deiphobus and


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