Ward Off Death

[487] So spake he, and they all, having one spirit in their breasts, took their stand, each hard by the other, leaning their shields against their shoulders. And Aeneas over against them called to his comrades, looking unto Deïphobus, and Paris, and goodly Agenor, that with himself were leaders of the Trojans; and after them followed the host, as sheep follow after the ram to water from the place of feeding, and the shepherd joyeth in his heart; even so the heart of Aeneas was glad in his breast, when he saw the throng of the host that followed after him.

[496] Then over Alcathous they clashed in close fight with their long spears, and about their breasts the bronze rang terribly as they aimed each at the other in the throng; and above all the rest two men of valour, Aeneas and Idomeneus, peers of Ares, were eager each to cleave the other's flesh with the pitiless bronze. And Aeneas first cast at Idomeneus, but he, looking steadily at him, avoided the spear of bronze, and the lance of Aeneas sank quivering down in to the earth, for that it sped in vain from his mighty hand. But Idomeneus cast and smote Oenomaus, full upon the belly, and brake the plate of his corselet, and the bronze let forth the bowels therethrough; and he fell in the dust and clutched the earth in his palm. And Idomeneus drew forth from out the corpse the far-shadowing spear, yet could he not prevail likewise to strip the rest of the fair armour from his shoulders, since he was sore pressed with missiles. For the joints of his feet were not firm as of old in a charge, that he might rush forth after his own cast, or avoid another's. Wherefore in close fight he warded off the pitiless day of doom, but in flight his feet no longer bare him swiftly from the war. And as he drew back step by step Deïphobus cast at him with his shining spear, for verily he ever cherished a ceaseless hate against him. Howbeit this time again he missed him, and smote with his spear Ascalaphus, son of Enyalius, and through the shoulder the mighty spear held its way; and he fell in the dust and clutched the ground with his palm. But as yet loud-voiced dread Ares wist not at all that his son had fallen in the mighty conflict; but he sat on the topmost peak of Olympus beneath the golden clouds, constrained by the will of Zeus, where also were the other immortal gods, being held aloof from the war.

[526] Then over Ascalaphus they clashed in close fight, and Deïphobus tore from Ascalaphus his shining helm, but Meriones, the peer of swift Ares, leapt upon Deïphobus and smote his arm with his spear, and from his hand the crested helm fell to the ground with a clang. And Meriones sprang forth again like a vulture, and drew forth the mighty spear from the upper arm of Deïphobus, and shrank back in the throng of his comrades. But Polites, the own brother of Deïphobus, stretched his arms around his waist, and led him forth from out the dolorous war, until he came to the swift horses that stood waiting for him at the rear of the battle and the conflict with their charioteer and chariot richly dight. These bare him to the city groaning heavily and sore distressed and down ran the blood from his newly wounded arm.

[540] But the rest fought on, and a cry unquenchable arose. Then Aeneas leapt upon Aphareus, son of Caletor, that was turned toward him, and struck him on the throat with his sharp spear, and his head sank to one side, and his shield was hurled upon him and his helm withal, and death that slayeth the spirit encompassed him.

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[576] Then in close fight Helenus smote Deïpyrus on the temple with a great Thracian sword, and tore away his helm, and the helm, dashed from his head, fell to the ground, and one of the Achaeans gathered it up as it rolled amid the feet of the fighters; and down upon the eyes of Deïpyrus came the darkness of night, and enfolded him.

[581] But the son of Atreus was seized with grief thereat, even Menelaus, good at the war-cry, and he strode forth with a threat against the prince, the warrior Helenus, brandishing his sharp spear, while the other drew the centre-piece of his bow. So the twain at the one moment let fly,  the one with his sharp spear, and the other with an arrow from the string. Then the son of Priam smote Menelaus on the breast with his arrow, on the plate of his corselet, and off therefrom glanced the bitter arrow. And as from a broad shovel in a great threshing-floor the dark-skinned beans or pulse leap before the shrill wind and the might of the winnower; even so from the corselet of glorious Menelaus glanced aside the bitter arrow and sped afar. But the son of Atreus, Menelaus, good at the war-cry, cast, and smote Helenus on the hand wherewith he was holding the polished bow, and into the bow clean through the hand was driven the spear of bronze. Then back he shrank into the throng of his comrades, avoiding fate, letting his hand hang down by his side; and the ashen spear trailed after him. This then great-souled Agenor drew forth from his hand, and bound the hand with a strip of twisted sheep's wool, even a sling that his squire carried for him, the shepherd of the host.

[601] But Peisander made straight at glorious Menelaus; howbeit an evil fate was leading him to the end of death, to be slain by thee, Menelaus, in the dread conflict. And when they were come near, as they advanced one against the other,  the son of Atreus missed, and his spear was turned aside; but Peisander thrust and smote the shield of glorious Menelaus, yet availed not to drive the bronze clean through, for the wide shield stayed it and the spear brake in the socket; yet had he joy at heart, and hope for victory.

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[748] So spake Polydamas, and his prudent counsel was well pleasing unto Hector, and forthwith he leapt in his armour from his chariot to the ground; and he spake and addressed him with winged words: "Polydamas, do thou hold back here all the bravest, but I will go thither and confront the war, and quickly will I come again, when to the full I have laid on them my charge."

[754] So spake he, and set forth, in semblance like a snowy mountain, and with loud shouting sped he through the Trojans and allies. And they hasted one and all toward the kindly Polydamas, son of Panthous when they heard the voice of Hector. But he ranged through the foremost fighters, in quest of Deïphobus, and the valiant prince Helenus, and Adamas, son of Asius, and Asius, son of Hyrtacus, if haply he might find them. But he found them no more in any wise unscathed or free from bane, but some were lying at the sterns of the ships of the Achaeans, slain by the hands of the Argives, and some were within the wall, smitten by darts or wounded with spear-thrusts. But one he presently found on the left of the tearful battle, even goodly Alexander, the lord of fair-tressed Helen, heartening his comrades and urging them on to fight; and he drew near and spake to him with words of shame: "Evil Paris, most fair to look upon, thou that art mad after women, thou beguiler, where, I pray thee, is Deïphobus, and the valiant prince Helenus, and Adamas, son of Asius, and Asius, son of Hyrtacus? Aye, and where, tell me, is Othryoneus? Now is steep Ilios wholly plunged into ruin; now, thou mayest see, is utter destruction sure."

[774] Then spake unto him again godlike Alexander: "Hector, seeing it is thy mind to blame one in whom is no blame, at some other time have I haply withdrawn me from war rather than now, for my mother bare not even me wholly a weakling. For from the time thou didst rouse the battle of thy comrades beside the ships, even from that time we abide here and have dalliance with the Danaans ceaselessly; but our comrades are dead of whom thou makest question. Only Deïphobus and the valiant prince Helenus have departed, both of them smitten in the arm with long spears; yet the son of Cronos warded off death. But now lead thou on whithersoever thy heart and spirit bid thee, and as for us, we will follow with thee eagerly, nor, methinks, shall we be anywise wanting in valour, so far as we have strength; but beyond his strength may no man fight, how eager soever he be."

[788] So spake the warrior, and turned his brother's mind; and they set out to go where the battle and the din were fiercest, round about Cebriones and peerless Polydamas, and Phalces, and Orthaeus, and godlike Polyphetes, and Palmys, and Ascanius, and Morys, son of Hippotion, who had come from deep-soiled Ascania on the morn before to relieve their fellows, and now Zeus roused them to fight. And they came on like the blast of direful winds that rusheth upon the earth beneath the thunder of father Zeus, and with wondrous din mingleth with the sea, and in its track are many surging waves of the loud-resounding sea, high-arched and white with foam, some in the van and after them others; even so the Trojans, in close array, some in the van and after them others, flashing with bronze, followed with their leaders. And Hector, son of Priam, led them, the peer of Ares, the bane of mortals. Before him he held his shield that was well-balanced upon every side, his shield thick with hides, whereon abundant bronze had been welded, and about his temples waved the crest of his shining helm. And everywhere on this side and on that he strode forward and made trial of the battalions, if so be they would give way before him, as he advanced under cover of his shield; yet could he not confound the heart in the breast of the Achaeans. And Aias came on with long strides, and was first to challenge him: "Good sir, draw nigh; wherefore seekest thou thus vainly to affright the Argives? In no wise, I tell thee, are we ignorant of battle, but by the evil scourge of Zeus were we Achaeans subdued. Verily, thy heart hopeth, I ween, to despoil our ships, but be sure we too have hands to defend them. In good sooth your well-peopled city is like, ere that, to be taken and laid waste beneath our hands. And for thine own self, I declare that the day is near when in flight thou shalt pray to father Zeus and the other immortals, that thy fair-maned horses may be swifter than falcons—they that shall bear thee citywards, coursing in dust over the plain."


- Homer, The Iliad, Book 13