Now when they reached the pleasant banks The eddying Xanthus runs, the river sprung From deathless Jove, Achilles drave his foes through which Asunder. Part he chased across the plain Townward, along the way by which the Greek In terror fled the day before, pursued By glorious Hector. Panic-struck they ran Along that way, while, to restrain their flight, Before them Juno hung a veil of cloud And darkness. Meanwhile half the flying crowd Leaped down to that deep stream and rolled among Its silver eddies. With a mighty noise They plunged; the torrent dashed; the banks around Remurmured shrilly to the cries of those Who floated struggling in the current’s whirl, As when before the fierce, devouring flames A swarm of locusts, springing into air, Fly toward a river, while the fire behind Crackles with sudden fierceness, and in fright They fall into the waves, the roaring stream Of the deep-eddied Xanthus thus was filled Before Achilles with a mingled crowd Of steeds and men. The Jove-descended man