First through the Trojan phalanx broke his way The son of Telamon, the prop of Greece, The mighty Ajax; on his friends the light Of triumph shedding, as Eusorus’ son He smote, the noblest of the Thracian bands, Valiant and strong, the gallant Acamas. Full in the front, beneath the plumed helm, The sharp spear struck, and crashing thro’ the bone, The warrior’s eyes were clos’d in endless night. Next valiant Diomed Axylus slew, The son of Teuthranes, who had his home In fair Arisba; rich in substance he, And lov’d of all; for, dwelling near the road, He op’d to all his hospitable gate; But none of all he entertain’d was there To ward aside the bitter doom of death: There fell they both, he and his charioteer, Calesius, who athwart the battle-field His chariot drove; one fate o’ertook them both. Then Dresus and Opheltius of their arms Euryalus despoil’d; his hot pursuit Æsepus next, and Pedasus assail’d, Brothers, whom Abarbarea, Naiad nymph, To bold Bucolion bore; Bucolion, son Of great Laomedon, his eldest born, Though bastard: he upon the mountain side, On which his flocks he tended, met the nymph, And of their secret loves twin sons were born; Whom now at once Euryalus of strength And life depriv’d, and of their armour stripp’d. By Polypoetes’ hand, in battle strong, Was slain Astyalus; Pidutes fell, Chief of Percote, by Ulysses’ spear; And Teucer godlike Aretaon slew. Antilochus, the son of Nestor, smote With gleaming lance Ablerus; Elatus By Agamemnon, King of men, was slain, Who dwelt by Satnois’ widely-flowing stream, Upon the lofty heights of Pedasus. By Leitus was Phylacus in flight O’erta’en; Eurypylus Melanthius slew. Then Menelaus, good in battle, took Adrastus captive; for his horses, scar’d And rushing wildly o’er the plain, amid The tangled tamarisk scrub his chariot broke, Snapping the pole; they with the flying crowd Held city-ward their course; he from the car Hurl’d headlong, prostrate lay beside the wheel, Prone on his face in dust; and at his side, Poising his mighty spear, Atrides stood. Adrastus clasp’d his knees, and suppliant cried, “Spare me, great son of Atreus! for my life Accept a price; my wealthy father’s house A goodly store contains of brass, and gold, And well-wrought iron; and of these he fain Would pay a noble ransom, could he hear That in the Grecian ships I yet surviv’d.” His words to pity mov’d the victor’s breast; Then had he bade his followers to the ships The captive bear; but running up in haste. Fierce Agamemnon cried in stern rebuke; “Soft-hearted Menelaus, why of life So tender? Hath thy house receiv’d indeed Nothing but benefits at Trojan hands? Of that abhorred race, let not a man Escape the deadly vengeance of our arms; No, not the infant in its mother’s womb; No, nor the fugitive; but be they all, They and their city, utterly destroy’d, Uncar’d for, and from mem’ry blotted out.”