chafed to hear his boast, And most the warlike son of Telamon; For the slain Greek fell near him. Instantly, Just as the Trojan moved away, he hurled His shining lance. Polydamas, to escape The death-stroke, sprang aside. Archilochus, Antenor’s son, received the blow: the gods Had doomed him to be slain. It pierced the spine Where the head joins the neck, and severed there The tendons on each side. His head and mouth And nostrils struck the ground before his knees.
And thus to excellent Polydamas Did Ajax shout in turn: “Bethink thee now, And tell me truly, was not this a man Worthy to die for Prothoenor’s sake? No man of mean repute or meanly born He seems, but either brother to the knight Antenor, or his son; for certainly His looks declare him of Antenor’s race.”
He spake; but well he knew the slain. Meanwhile The Trojans heard and grieved. Then Acamas, Stalking around his fallen brother, slew Promachus, the Boeotian, with his spear, While dragging off the dead man by the feet.