So talked they with each other. Ajax, whelmed Beneath a storm of darts, meantime but ill Endured the struggle, for the will of Jove And the fierce foe prevailed. His shining helm Rang fearfully, as on his temples fell, Stroke following after stroke, the weapons hurled Against its polished studs. The buckler borne Firmly on his left arm, and shifted oft From side to side, had wearied it, and yet The Trojans, pressing round him, could not drive, With all their darts, the hero from his place. Heavily heaved his panting chest; his limbs Streamed with warm sweat; there was no breathing time; On danger danger followed, toil on toil.
Now, Muses, dwellers of Olympus, tell How first the galleys of the Greeks were fired.
Hector drew near, and smote with his huge sword The ashen spear of Ajax just below The socket of the blade, and cut the stem In two. The son of Telamon in vain Brandished the severed weapon, while afar The brazen blade flew off, and ringing fell To earth. Then Ajax in his mighty mind Acknowledged that the gods were in the war, And shuddered, knowing that the Thunderer Was thwarting all his warlike purposes, And willed the victory to Troy. The chief Withdrew beyond the reach of spears, while fast The eager enemy hurled the blazing brands At the swift ship, and wrapped the stern in flames Unquenchable. Achilles saw, and smote His thigh, and spake: “Patroclus, noble friend And knight, make haste: already I behold The flames that rage with fury at the fleet. Now, lest the enemy seize our ships and we Be barred of our return, put quickly on Thy armor; be my task to call the troops.”
He spake: Patroclus then in glittering brass Arrayed himself; and first around his thighs He put the beautiful greaves, and fastened them With silver clasps; around his chest he bound The breastplate of the swift Aeacides, With star-like points, and richly chased; he hung The sword with silver studs and blade of brass Upon his shoulders, and with it the shield Solid and vast; upon his gallant head He placed the glorious helm