He was the first to cast his spear, and Achilles held his shield before him at arm’s length, so that should it pierce the metal, it might not touch his body. But the swift-flying weapon glanced off harmlessly. Immediately he hurled his own powerful lance, but Æneas threw himself on the ground and covered himself. The mighty lance crashed through the edge of his shield and buried itself in the ground just behind the crouching man. He arose quickly, seized a great stone, and threw it at the head of Achilles, who was rushing upon him with drawn sword in a blind rage, forgetting to shield himself, so that had Vulcan’s helmet not been so strong, helmet and skull would doubtless have been crushed. Æneas was about to exult over his fall, but Achilles only staggered back a step and a god warned Æneas to escape. He therefore drew Achilles’ heavy spear from his shield, and throwing it down, fled into the crowd of Trojans. When Achilles came to, he found himself on the ground, supporting himself on one arm, and alone. He was astonished and said to himself: “What miracle is this? Here lies my spear and my adversary is nowhere to be seen. But indeed Æneas must be beloved of the gods, for no one has ever vanquished me thus. But he did not venture to kill me in my swoon and is, no doubt, happy to have himself escaped. And now I must away to measure myself with other Trojans.” He first returned to his Myrmidons and cheered them with loud cries of “Forward, man to man! Let none hold back! I cannot alone conquer the whole Trojan army, even Mars himself could not do that. But my lance shall never rest.” Among the Trojans the gallant Hector was going about encouraging his bands. “Do not fear, ye valiant Trojans, because the enemy has gained a single man to-day. Grim Achilles has certainly uttered great threats, but words are not deeds. Behold, I go forward to encounter him unafraid, though his hand were a bolt of lightning and his breast of bronze.” Achilles had already broken into the ranks of the Trojans and slain a man here and there. He was like a hungry wolf hasting from one victim to another. His lance was constantly in flight. He pierced the noble Demoleon, then laid his charioteer Hippodamos in the dust, then drawing his spear from the body, he hurled it after Polydorus, Priam’s youngest son, whom his father had begged not to enter the fight. But the youth, considered the best runner in the army, was passionate and fiery and would not be restrained. Just as he was flying past, Achilles’ terrible spear struck him. He fell, groaning and holding his wounded side. Thus his brother Hector espied him and in a passion of grief he advanced upon Achilles, swinging his lance like flashing lightning.