Of Priam basely born. Then Pandorus He wounded; next he struck Lysander down, Pyrasus and Pylartes. As a stream, Swol’n to a torrent by the showers of Jove Sweeps down, from hill to plain, dry oaks and pines, And pours into the sea a muddy flood, So mighty Ajax routed and pursued The Trojans o’er the plain, and cut his way Through steeds and warriors. Hector knew not this. He fought where, on the battle’s left, beside The Xanthus, fastest fell the slain, and round Great Nestor and the brave Idomeneus Arose a mighty tumult. In that throng Did Hector mingle with his spear and steeds, Performing feats of valor, and laid waste The ranks of youthful warriors. Yet the Greeks Would not have yielded ground, if Paris, spouse Of fair-haired Helen, had not forced the chief Machaon, fighting gallantly, to pause; For with an arrow triple-barbed he pierced The chiefs right shoulder, and the valiant Greeks Feared lest the battle turn and he be slain. And thus Idomeneus to Nestor said:⁠—