He spake: the Trojans at his stirring word Lifted their lances, and the adverse hosts Joined battle with a fearful din. Then came Apollo and admonished Hector thus:—
“Hector, encounter not Achilles here Before the armies, but amidst the throng And tumult of the battle, lest perchance He strike thee with the javelin or the sword.”
He spake: the Trojan chief, dismayed to hear The warning of the god, withdrew among The crowded ranks. Meantime Achilles sprang Upon the Trojans with a terrible cry, And slew a leader of the host, the brave Iphition, whom a Naiad, at the foot Of snowy Tmolus, in the opulent vale Of Hyda, bore to the great conqueror Of towns, Otrynteus. As he came in haste, The noble son of Peleus with his spear Smote him upon the forehead in the midst, And cleft the head in two. He fell; his arms Clashed, and Achilles boasted o’er him thus:—
“Son of Otrynteus, terrible in arms, Thou art brought low; thou meetest here thy death, Though thou wert born by the Gygaean lake Where lie, by fishy Hyllus and the stream Of eddying Hermus, thy paternal fields.”
Thus boastfully he spake, while darkness came Over Iphition’s eyes, and underneath The chariots of the Greeks who foremost fought His corse was mangled. Next Achilles smote Antenor’s son, Demoleon, gallantly Breasting the onset of the Greeks. He pierced His temple through the helmet’s brazen cheek; The brass stayed not the blow; the eager spear Brake through the bone, and crushed the brain within, And the brave youth lay dead. Achilles next Struck down Hippodamas; he pierced his back As, leaping from his car, the Phrygian fled Before him. With a moan he breathed away His life, as moans a bull when dragged around The altar of the Heliconian king By youths on whom the god that shakes the earth Looks down well pleased. With such a moaning sound The fiery spirit left the Phrygian’s frame.