He spake, and smote the Grecian’s orbèd shield. The swift spear, passing through the shining disk, And fixed in the rich breastplate, tore the skin From all his side; yet Pallas suffered not The blade to reach the inner parts. At once The chief perceived that Socus had not given A mortal wound, and, falling back a step, Thus spake: “Unhappy youth, thy doom will soon O’ertake thee. Though thou forcest me to pause From combat with the Trojans, I declare, This day thou sufferest the black doom of death. Thou, smitten by my spear, shalt bring to me Increase of glory, and shalt yield thy soul To the grim horseman Pluto.” Thus he spake, While Socus turned to flee; and as he turned, Ulysses with the spear transfixed his back, And drave the weapon through his breast: he fell, With armor clashing, to the earth, while thus The great Ulysses gloried over him:⁠—