As thus he mused, the men of Troy came on, With Hector at their head. The Greek gave way And left the slain. As when a lion, driven With pikes and clamor from the herdsman’s stalls By men and dogs, unwillingly retreats, His valiant heart still raging in his breast, So did the fair-haired Menelaus leave Patroclus. When he reached the Grecian ranks, He turned and stood and looked about to find The mighty Ajax, son of Telamon, And him he soon beheld on the left edge Of battle, rallying there and heartening His men; for Phoebus from above had sent A panic fear among them. To him then The son of Atreus went in haste and said:—
“Ajax, my friend, come hither where we fight Around Patroclus. Let us strive at least To bring Achilles back the hero’s corpse, Though stripped; for crested Hector hath his arms.”
He spake; the courage of the warlike son Of Telamon was kindled by his words. To the front rank he hastened, and with him Went fair-haired Menelaus. Hector there Had spoiled Patroclus of his glorious arms, And now was dragging him apart to hew The head away with his keen sword, and give The body to the dogs of Troy. Just then Came Ajax, bearing, like a tower, his shield, And Hector mingled with the Trojan ranks, And leaped into his car; but first he gave His friends the glittering spoil to bear away To Troy—a glory to the conqueror; While Ajax, over Menoetiades Holding his ample shield, stood firm as stands A lion o’er his whelps, when, as he comes Leading them through the wood, the hunters rush Upon him, and his look is terrible As his knit eyebrows cover his fierce eyes. So Ajax moved around the hero’s corpse, While warlike Menelaus by his side, The son of Atreus, stood in bitter grief.
Then with a look of anger, Glaucus spake— Son of Hippolochus, and chief among The Lycians—thus to Hector: “Though thy form, Hector,