and strong, bears from the browsing herd The fairest of the kine, and breaks her neck With his strong teeth, and, tearing her, devours The bloody entrails, while a clamorous throng Of dogs and herdsmen, with incessant cries, Gather around him, yet approach him not, Withheld by fear, so of the warriors round so The gallant Menelaus none could find The courage to encounter him; and then Atrides easily had borne away The sumptuous armor worn by Panthoüs’ son, If envious Apollo had not moved Hector to meet him. Putting on the form Of Mentes, chief of the Ciconian band, He said to him aloud, with wingèd words:—
“Hector, thou art pursuing what thy feet Will never overtake, the steeds which draw The chariot of Achilles. Hard it were For mortal man to tame them or to guide, Save for Achilles, goddess-born. Meanwhile Hath warlike Menelaus, Atreus’ son, Guarding the slain Patroclus, overthrown Euphorbus, bravest of the Trojan host, A son of Panthoüs; he will fight no more.”
Thus spake the god, and disappeared among The warring squadrons. Bitter was the grief That seized the heart of Hector as he looked Along the ranks and saw the