From that stern conflict Glaucus drew not back, Burning to vanquish Aias, Aeacus' son, And in his folly vaunting threatened him: "Aias, men name thee mightiest man of all The Argives, hold thee in passing-high esteem Even as Achilles: therefore thou, I wot, By that dead warrior dead this day shalt lie!" So hurled he forth a vain word, knowing not How far in might above him was the man Whom his spear threatened. Battle-bider Aias Darkly and scornfully glaring on him, said "Thou craven wretch, and knowest thou not this, How much was Hector mightier than thou In war-craft? yet before my might, my spear, He shrank. Ay, with his valour was there blent Discretion. Thou thy thoughts are deathward set, Who dar'st defy me to the battle, me, A mightier far than thou! Thou canst not say That friendship of our fathers thee shall screen; Nor me thy gifts shall wile to let thee pass Scatheless from war, as once did Tydeus' son. Though thou didst 'scape his fury, will not I Suffer thee to return alive from war. Ha, in thy many helpers dost thou trust Who with thee, like so many worthless flies, Flit round the noble Achilles' corpse? To these Death and black doom shall my swift onset deal." Then on the Trojans this way and that he turned, As mid long forest-glens a lion turns On hounds, and Trojans many and Lycians slew That came for honour hungry, till he stood Mid a wide ring of flinchers; like a shoal Of darting fish when sails into their midst Dolphin or shark, a huge sea-fosterling; So shrank they from the might of Telamon's son, As aye he charged amidst the rout. But still Swarmed fighters up, till round Achilles' corse To right, to left, lay in the dust the slain Countless, as boars around a lion at bay; And evermore the strife waxed deadlier. Then too Hippolochus' war-wise son was slain By Aias of the heart of fire. He fell Backward upon Achilles, even as falls A sapling on a sturdy mountain-oak; So quelled by the spear on Peleus' son he fell. But for his rescue Anchises' stalwart son Strove hard, with all his comrades battle-fain, And haled the corse forth, and to sorrowing friends Gave it, to bear to Ilium's hallowed burg. Himself to spoil Achilles still fought on, Till warrior Aias pierced him with the spear Through the right forearm. Swiftly leapt he back From murderous war, and hasted thence to Troy. There for his healing cunning leeches wrought, Who stanched the blood-rush, and laid on the gash Balms, such as salve war-stricken warriors' pangs.