Swift flew the Grecians shouting to the skies,
  And showering darts, to drag his body thence,
  But neither spear of theirs nor shaft could harm
  The fallen leader, with such instant aid
  His princely friends encircled him around, 510
  Sarpedon, Lycian Chief, Glaucus the brave,
  Polydamas, AEneas, and renown’d
  Agenor; neither tardy were the rest,
  But with round shields all shelter’d Hector fallen. 
  Him soon uplifted from the plain his friends 515
  Bore thence, till where his fiery coursers stood,
  And splendid chariot in the rear, they came,
  Then Troy-ward drove him groaning as he went. 
  Ere long arriving at the pleasant stream
  Of eddied Xanthus, progeny of Jove, 520
  They laid him on the bank, and on his face
  Pour’d water; he, reviving, upward gazed,
  And seated on his hams black blood disgorged
  Coagulate, but soon relapsing, fell
  Supine, his eyes with pitchy darkness veil’d, 525
  And all his powers still torpid by the blow. 
    Then, seeing Hector borne away, the Greeks
  Rush’d fiercer on, all mindful of the fight,
  And far before the rest, Ajax the swift,
  The Oilean Chief, with pointed spear 530
  On Satnius springing, pierced him.  Him a nymph
  A Naiad, bore to Enops, while his herd
  Feeding, on Satnio’s grassy verge he stray’d. 
  But Oiliades the spear-renown’d
  Approaching, pierced his flank; supine he fell, 535
  And fiery contest for the dead arose. 
  In vengeance of his fall, spear-shaking Chief
  The son of Panthus into fight advanced
  Polydamas, who Prothoeenor pierced
  Offspring of Areilocus, and urged 540
  Through his right shoulder sheer the stormy lance. 
  He, prostrate, clench’d the dust, and with loud voice
  Polydamas exulted at his fall. 
    Yon spear, methinks, hurl’d from the warlike hand
  Of Panthus’ noble son, flew not in vain, 545
  But some Greek hath it, purposing, I judge,
  To lean on it in his descent to hell. 
    So he, whose vaunt the Greeks indignant heard. 
  But most indignant, Ajax, offspring bold
  Of Telamon, to whom he nearest fell. 550
  He, quick, at the retiring conqueror cast
  His radiant spear; Polydamas the stroke
  Shunn’d, starting sideward; but Antenor’s son
  Archilochus the mortal dint received,
  Death-destined by the Gods; where neck and spine 555
  Unite, both tendons he dissever’d wide,
  And, ere his knees, his nostrils met the ground. 
    Then Ajax in his turn vaunting aloud
  Against renown’d Polydamas, exclaim’d. 
  Speak now the truth, Polydamas, and weigh 560
  My question well.  His life whom I