prease He drew from him. Down from the tow’r Alcmaon dead it strook; His fair arms ringing out his death. Then fierce Sarpedon took In his strong hand the battlement, and down he tore it quite, The wall stripp’d naked, and broad way for entry and full fight He made the many. Against him Ajax and Teucer made; Teucer the rich belt on his breast did with a shaft invade; But Jupiter averted death, who would not see his son Die at the tails of th’ Achive ships. Ajax did fetch his run, And, with his lance, strook through the targe of that brave Lycian king; Yet kept he it from further pass, nor did it anything Dismay his mind, although his men stood off from that high way His valour made them, which he kept, and hop’d that stormy day Should ever make his glory clear. His men’s fault thus he blam’d: “O Lycians, why are your hot spirits so quickly disinflam’d? Suppose me ablest of you all, ’tis hard for me alone To ruin such a wall as this, and make confusion Way to their navy. Lend your hands. What many can dispatch, One cannot think. The noble work of many hath no match.” The wise king’s just rebuke did strike a rev’rence to his will Through all his soldiers; all stood in, and ’gainst all th’ Achives still Made strong their squadrons, insomuch, that to the adverse side, The work show’d mighty, and the wall, when ’twas within descried, No easy service; yet the Greeks could neither free their wall Of these brave Lycians, that held firm the place they first did scale; Nor could the Lycians from their fort the sturdy Grecians drive, Nor reach their fleet. But as two men about the limits strive Of land that toucheth in a field, their measures in their hands, They mete their parts out curiously, and either stiffly stands That so far is his right in law, both hugely set on fire About a passing-little ground; so, greedily aspire Both these foes to their sev’ral ends, and all exhaust their most About the very battlements (for yet no more was lost ).[4] With sword and fire they vex’d for them their targes hugely round, With ox-hides lin’d, and bucklers light; and many a ghastly wound The stern steel gave for that one prise; whereof though some receiv’d Their portions on their naked backs, yet others were bereav’d Of brave lives, face-turn’d, through their shields; tow’rs, bulwarks, ev’rywhere Were freckled with the blood of men. Nor yet the Greeks did bear Base back-turn’d faces; nor their foes would therefore be out-fac’d. But as a spinster poor and just, ye sometimes see, straight-lac’d About the weighing of her web, who, careful, having charge For which she would provide some means, is loth to be too large In giving or in taking weight, but ever with her hand Is doing with the weights and wool, till both in just paise stand;[5] So ev’nly stood it with these foes, till Jove to Hector gave The turning of the scales; who first against the rampire drave, And spake so loud that all might hear: “O stand not at the pale,