The first who turn’d to fly was Peneleus, Bœotian chief; him, facing still the foe, A spear had slightly on the shoulder struck, The bone just grazing: by Polydamas, Who close before him stood, the spear was thrown. Then Hector Leitus, Aloctryon’s son, Thrust thro’ the wrist, and quell’d his warlike might; Trembling, he look’d around, nor hop’d again The Trojans, spear in hand, to meet in fight; But, onward as he rush’d on Leitus, Idomeneus at Hector threw his spear: Full on his breast it struck; but near the head The sturdy shaft was on the breastplate snapp’d: Loud was the Trojans’ shout; and he in turn Aim’d at Idomeneus, Deucalion’s son, Upstanding on his car; his mark he miss’d, But Coeranus he struck, the charioteer And faithful follower of Meriones, Who with him came from Lyctus’ thriving town: The chief had left on foot the well-trimm’d ships; And, had not Coeranus his car in haste Driv’n to the rescue, by his fall had giv’n A Trojan triumph; to his Lord he brought Safety, and rescue from unsparing death; But fell, himself, by Hector’s murd’rous hand. Him Hector struck between the cheek and ear, Crashing the teeth, and cutting through the tongue. Headlong he fell to earth, and dropp’d the reins: These, stooping from the car, Meriones Caught up, and thus Idomeneus address’d: “Ply now the lash, until thou reach the ships: Thyself must see how crush’d the strength of Greece.” He said; and tow’rd the ships Idomeneus Urg’d his fleet steeds; for fear was on his soul. Nor did not Ajax and Atrides see How in the Trojans’ favour Saturn’s son The wav’ring scale of vict’ry turn’d; and thus Great Ajax Telamon his grief express’d: “O Heav’n! the veriest child might plainly see That Jove the Trojans’ triumph has decreed: Their weapons all, by whomsoever thrown, Or weak, or strong, attain their mark; for Jove Directs their course; while ours upon the plain Innocuous fall. But take we counsel now How from the fray to bear away our dead, And by our own return rejoice those friends Who look with sorrow on our plight, and deem That we, all pow’rless to resist the might Of Hector’s arm, beside the ships must fall. Would that some comrade were at hand, to bear A message to Achilles; him, I ween, As yet the mournful tidings have not reach’d, That on the field his dearest friend lies dead. But such I see not; for a veil of cloud O’er men and horses all around is spread. O Father Jove, from, o’er the sons of Greece Remove this cloudy darkness; clear the sky, That we may see our fate, and die at least, If such thy will, in th’ open light of day.” He said, and, pitying, Jove beheld his tears; The clouds he scatter’d, and the mist dispers’d; The sun shone forth, and all the field was clear; Then Ajax thus to Menelaus spoke: “Now, Heav’n-born Menelaus, look around If haply ’mid the living thou mayst see Antilochus, the noble Nestor’s son; And bid him to Achilles bear in haste The tidings, that his dearest friend lies dead.”