Now neither Atreus' sons might steadfast stand, Nor any valiant Danaan beside, For ruinous panic suddenly gripped the hearts Of all; for on them all Eurypylus rushed Flashing death in their faces, chased them, slew, Cried to the Trojans and to his chariot-lords: "Friends, be of good heart! To these Danaans Let us deal slaughter and doom's darkness now! Lo, how like scared sheep back to the ships they flee! Forget not your death-dealing battle-lore, O ye that from your youth are men of war!" Then charged they on the Argives as one man; And these in utter panic turned and fled The bitter battle, those hard after them Followed, as white-fanged hounds hold deer in chase Up the long forest-glens. Full many in dust They dashed down, howsoe'er they longed to escape. The slaughter grim and great of that wild fray. Eurypylus hath slain Bucolion, Nesus, and Chromion and Antiphus; Twain in Mycenae dwelt, a goodly land; In Lacedaemon twain. Men of renown Albeit they were, he slew them. Then he smote A host unnumbered of the common throng. My strength should not suffice to sing their fate, How fain soever, though within my breast Were iron lungs. Aeneas slew withal Antimachus and Pheres, twain which left Crete with Idomeneus. Agenor smote Molus the princely,--with king Sthenelus He came from Argos,--hurled from far behind A dart new-whetted, as he fled from fight, Piercing his right leg, and the eager shaft Cut sheer through the broad sinew, shattering The bones with anguished pain: and so his doom Met him, to die a death of agony. Then Paris' arrows laid proud Phorcys low, And Mosynus, brethren both, from Salamis Who came in Aias' ships, and nevermore Saw the home-land. Cleolaus smote he next, Meges' stout henchman; for the arrow struck His left breast: deadly night enwrapped him round, And his soul fleeted forth: his fainting heart Still in his breast fluttering convulsively Made the winged arrow shiver. Yet again Did Paris shoot at bold Eetion. Through his jaw leapt the sudden-flashing brass: He groaned, and with his blood were mingled tears. So ever man slew man, till all the space Was heaped with Argives each on other cast. Now had the Trojans burnt with fire the ships, Had not night, trailing heavy-folded mist, Uprisen. So Eurypylus drew back, And Troy's sons with him, from the ships aloof A little space, by Simois' outfall; there Camped they exultant. But amidst the ships Flung down upon the sands the Argives wailed Heart-anguished for the slain, so many of whom Dark fate had overtaken and laid in dust. BOOK VII How the Son of Achilles was brought to the War from the Isle of Scyros.