may cried
aloud and smote his two thighs. "Father Jove," he cried, "of a truth
you too are altogether given to lying. I made sure the Argive heroes
could not withstand us, whereas like slim-waisted wasps, or bees that
have their nests in the rocks by the wayside--they leave not the holes
wherein they have built undefended, but fight for their little ones
against all who would take them--even so these men, though they be but
two, will not be driven from the gates, but stand firm either to slay
or be slain."

He spoke, but moved not the mind of Jove, whose counsel it then was to
give glory to Hector. Meanwhile the rest of the Trojans were fighting
about the other gates; I, however, am no god to be able to tell about
all these things, for the battle raged everywhere about the stone wall
as it were a fiery furnace. The Argives, discomfited though they were,
were forced to defend their ships, and all the gods who were defending
the Achaeans were vexed in spirit; but the Lapithae kept on fighting
with might and main.

Thereon Polypoetes, mighty son of Pirithous, hit Damasus with a spear
upon his cheek-pierced helmet. The helmet did not protect him, for the
point of the spear went through it, and broke the bone, so that the
brain inside was scattered about, and he died fighting. He then slew
Pylon and Ormenus. Leonteus, of the race of Mars, killed Hippomachus
the son of Antimachus by striking him with his spear upon the girdle.
He then drew his sword and sprang first upon Antiphates whom he killed
in combat, and who fell face upwards on the earth. After him he killed
Menon, Iamenus, and Orestes, and laid them low one after the other.

While they were busy stripping the armour from these heroes, the youths
who were led on by Polydamas and Hector (and these were the greater
part and the most valiant of those that were trying to break through
the wall and fire the ships) were still standing by the trench,
uncertain what they should do; for they had seen a sign from heaven
when they had essayed to cross it--a soaring eagle that flew skirting
the left wing of their host, with a monstrous blood-red snake in its
talons still alive and struggling to escape. The snake was still bent
on revenge, wriggling and twisting itself backwards till it struck the
bird that held it, on the neck and breast; whereon the bird being in
pain, let it fall, dropping it into the middle of the host, and then
flew down the wind with a sharp cry. The Troj