promising A vast exploit—to drive the Greeks from Troy, In spite of all their valor. The old king Consented that the maiden should be his; And now he fought, and trusted to fulfil His promise. But Idomeneus took aim, And cast his glittering javelin at the youth. It struck him marching proudly on, nor stopped The weapon at the brazen mail, but pierced The stomach. With a clash the warrior fell, And thus the victor boasted over him:—
“Orthryoneus, I deem thee worthy of praise Beyond all other men, if thou perform What thou hast undertaken—to defend Dardanian Priam, who has promised thee His daughter. We would make a compact too, And will perform it—to bestow on thee A spouse, the fairest daughter of the house Of Atreus’ son, and we will send for her To Argos, if thou join us, and lay waste The well built Ilium. Now, then, follow me, And at the ships which brought us we will treat Of marriage, and will make no niggard terms.”
So spake Idomeneus, and dragged the slain Through the sharp conflict by the foot. He met Asius, who walked before his car, and came To avenge his friend. The attending charioteer Behind him reined the steeds, that they should breathe Over the shoulders of their lord, who sought To smite Idomeneus. The Greek was first To strike; he plunged the spear into his throat Below the chin, and drave the weapon through. The Trojan fell to earth as falls an oak, Poplar, or stately pine, which woodmen fell With their sharp axes on the mountain-side, To form a galley’s beam. So there he lay Stretched out before his coursers and his car, And gnashed his teeth, and clenched the bloody dust. The charioteer, amazed, and losing power Of action, dared not turn the horses back To bear him from the foe. Antilochus The warlike cast his spear, and in the midst Transfixed him. Little did the brazen mail Avail to stay the blade, which cleft its way Into the stomach. With a sudden gasp He toppled from the sumptuous chariot-seat, And large-souled Nestor’s son, Antilochus, Drave with the chariot to the well-armed Greeks.