And one that to thy tend’rest youth did careful guard afford, Alcathous, whom Creta’s king hath chiefly slain to thee, His right most challenging thy band. Come, therefore, follow me.” This much excited his good mind, and set his heart on fire Against the Cretan, who child-like dissolv’d not in his ire, But stood him firm. As when in hills a strength relying boar, Alone, and hearing hunters come, whom tumult flies before, Up-thrusts his bristles, whets his tusks, sets fire on his red eyes, And in his brave prepar’d repulse doth dogs and men despise; So stood the famous-for-his-lance, nor shunn’d the coming charge That resolute Æneas brought. Yet, since the odds was large, He call’d with good right to his aid war-skill’d Ascalaphus, Aphareüs, Meriones, the strong Deipyrus, And Nestor’s honourable son: “Come near, my friends,” said he, “And add your aids to me alone. Fear taints me worthily, Though firm I stand, and show it not. Æneas great in fight, And one that bears youth in his flow’r, that bears the greatest might, Comes on with aim direct at me. Had I his youthful limb To bear my mind, he should yield fame, or I would yield it him.” This said, all held, in many souls, one ready helpful mind, Clapp’d shields and shoulders, and stood close. Æneas, not inclin’d With more presumption than the king, call’d aid as well as he, Divine Agenor, Helen’s love, who follow’d instantly, And all their forces following them; as after bellwethers The whole flocks follow to their drink, which sight the shepherd cheers. Nor was Æneas’ joy less mov’d to see such troops attend His honour’d person; and all these fought close about his friend; But two of them, past all the rest, had strong desire to shed The blood of either; Idomen, and Cytherea’s seed. Æneas first bestow’d his lance, which th’ other seeing shunn’d, And that, thrown from an idle hand, stuck trembling in the ground. But Idomen’s, discharg’d at him, had no such vain success, Which Œnomaus’ entrails found, in which it did impress His sharp pile to his fall; his palms tore his returning earth. Idomenëus straight stepp’d in, and pluck’d his jav’lin forth, But could not spoil his goodly arms, they press’d him so with darts. And now the long toil of the fight had spent his vig’rous parts, And made them less apt to avoid the foe that should advance, Or, when himself advanc’d again, to run and fetch his lance, And therefore in stiff fights of stand he spent the cruel day. When, coming softly from the slain, Deiphobus gave way To his bright jav’lin at the king, whom he could never brook; But then he lost his envy too. His lance yet deadly took Ascalaphus, the son of Mars; quite through his shoulder flew The violent head, and down he fell. Nor yet by all means knew Wide-throated Mars his son was fall’n, but in Olympus’ top Sat canopied with golden clouds; Jove’s counsel had shut up Both him and all the other Gods from that time’s equal task, Which now, about Ascalaphus, strife set. His shining casque