swiftly out of the battle. Deiphobus aimed a spear at him as he was
retreating slowly from the field, for his bitterness against him was as
fierce as ever, but again he missed him, and hit Ascalaphus, the son of
Mars; the spear went through his shoulder, and he clutched the earth in
the palms of his hands as he fell sprawling in the dust.

Grim Mars of awful voice did not yet know that his son had fallen, for
he was sitting on the summits of Olympus under the golden clouds, by
command of Jove, where the other gods were also sitting, forbidden to
take part in the battle. Meanwhile men fought furiously about the body.
Deiphobus tore the helmet from off his head, but Meriones sprang upon
him, and struck him on the arm with a spear so that the visored helmet
fell from his hand and came ringing down upon the ground. Thereon
Meriones sprang upon him like a vulture, drew the spear from his
shoulder, and fell back under cover of his men. Then Polites, own
brother of Deiphobus passed his arms around his waist, and bore him
away from the battle till he got to his horses that were standing in
the rear of the fight with the chariot and their driver. These took him
towards the city groaning and in great pain, with the blood flowing
from his arm.

The others still fought on, and the battle-cry rose to heaven without
ceasing. Aeneas sprang on Aphareus son of Caletor, and struck him with
a spear in his throat which was turned towards him; his head fell on
one side, his helmet and shield came down along with him, and death,
life's foe, was shed around him. Antilochus spied his chance, flew
forward towards Thoon, and wounded him as he was turning round. He laid
open the vein that runs all the way up the back to the neck; he cut
this vein clean away throughout its whole course, and Thoon fell in the
dust face upwards, stretching out his hands imploringly towards his
comrades. Antilochus sprang upon him and stripped the armour from his
shoulders, glaring round him fearfully as he did so. The Trojans came
about him on every side and struck his broad and gleaming shield, but
could not wound his body, for Neptune stood guard over the son of
Nestor, though the darts fell thickly round him. He was never clear of
the foe, but was always in the thick of the fight; his spear was never
idle; he poised and aimed it in every direction, so eager was he to hit
someone from a distance or to fight him hand to hand.

As he was thus aiming among the crow