To whom the godlike Paris thus replied: “Hector, since blameless I incur thy blame, Ne’er have I less withdrawn me from the fight, And me not wholly vile my mother bore; For since thou gav’st command to attack the ships, We here against the Greeks unflinching war Have wag’d; our comrades, whom thou seek’st, are slain: Only Deiphobus hath left the field, And Helenus; both wounded by the spear, Both through the hand; but Jove their life hath spar’d. But thou, where’er thy courage bids, lead on: We shall be prompt to follow; to our pow’r Thou shalt in us no lack of valour find; Beyond his pow’r the bravest cannot fight.” Wrought on his brother’s mind the hero’s words: Together both they bent their steps, where rag’d The fiercest conflict; there Cebriones, Phalces, Orthaeus, brave Polydamas, Palmys, and godlike Polyphetes’ might, And Morys, and Ascanius fought; these two Hippotion’s sons; from rich Ascania’s plains They, as reliefs, but yestermorn had come; Impell’d by Jove, they sought the battle field. Onward they dash’d, impetuous as the rush Of the fierce whirlwind, which with lightning charg’d, From Father Jove sweeps downward o’er the plain: As with loud roar it mingles with the sea, The many-dashing ocean’s billows boil, Upheaving, foam-white-crested, wave on wave; So, rank on rank, the Trojans, closely mass’d, In arms all glitt’ring, with their chiefs advanc’d; Hector, the son of Priam, led them on, In combat terrible as blood-stain’d Mars: Before his breast his shield’s broad orb he bore, Of hides close join’d, with brazen plates o’erlaid; The gleaming helmet nodded o’er his brow. He, with proud step, protected by his shield, On ev’ry side the hostile ranks survey’d, If signs of yielding he might trace; but they Unshaken stood; and with like haughty mien, Ajax at Hector thus defiance hurl’d: “Draw nearer, mighty chief; why seek to scare Our valiant Greeks? we boast ourselves of war Not wholly unskill’d, though now the hand of Jove Lies heavy on us with the scourge of Heav’n. Thou hop’st, forsooth, our vessels to destroy; But stalwart arms for their defence we boast. Long ere that day shall your proud city fall, Tak’n and destroy’d by our victorious hands. Not far the hour, when thou thyself in flight To Jove and all the Gods shalt make thy pray’r, That swifter than the falcon’s wing thy steeds May bear thee o’er the dusty plain to Troy.”