He spake, and into every heart his words Carried new strength and courage. In that hour Sarpedon chid the noble Hector thus:— “Where is the prowess, Hector, which was thine So lately? Thou hast said that thou alone, Thy kindred and thy brothers, could defend The city, without armies or allies. Now I see none of these; they all, like hounds Before a lion, crouch and slink away, While the confederates bear the brunt of war. I am but an auxiliar come from far, From Lycia, where the eddying Xanthus runs. There left I a beloved wife, and there An infant child, and large possessions, such As poor men covet. Yet do I exhort My Lycians to the combat, and myself Would willingly engage this foe of Troy, Although I here have nothing which the Greeks Might bear or drive away. Thou standest still, Meanwhile, nor dost thou bid the rest to keep Their ground and bear the battle for their wives. Yet have a care, lest, as if caught at length In the strong meshes of a mighty net, Ye find yourselves the captives and the prey Of enemies, who quickly will destroy Your nobly-peopled city. These are thoughts That should engage thy mind by night and day, And thou shouldst beg the chiefs of thine allies, Called to thy aid from far, that manfully They meet the foe, and foil his fierce attack, And take the cause of this reproach away.”
Sarpedon spake; and Hector, all in arms, Stung by his words, and leaping from his car, Brandished his spears, and went among the hosts And rallied them to battle. Terrible The conflict that ensued. The men of Troy Made head against the Greeks: the Greeks stood firm, Nor ever thought of flight. As when the wind Strews chaff about the sacred threshing-floors While wheat is winnowed, and before the breeze The yellow Ceres separates the grain From its light husk, which gathers in white heaps— Even so the Greeks were whitened o’er with dust Raised in that tumult by the horses’ hoofs And rising to the brazen firmament, As toward the fight the charioteers again Urged on their coursers. Yet the