counsel yields; Then o'er their backs they spread their solid shields: With brass refulgent the broad surface shined, And thick bull-hides the spacious concave lined. Them Chromius follows, Aretus succeeds; Each hopes the conquest of the lofty steeds: In vain, brave youths, with glorious hopes ye burn, In vain advance! not fated to return. Unmov'd, Automedon attends the fight, Implores the Eternal, and collects his might. Then turning to his friend, with dauntless mind: "Oh keep the foaming coursers close behind! Full on my shoulders let their nostrils blow, For hard the fight, determined is the foe; 'Tis Hector comes: and when he seeks the prize, War knows no mean; he wins it or he dies." Then through the field he sends his voice aloud, And calls the Ajaces from the warring crowd, With great Atrides. "Hither turn, (he said,) Turn where distress demands immediate aid; The dead, encircled by his friends, forego, And save the living from a fiercer foe. Unhelp'd we stand, unequal to engage The force of Hector, and Ćneas' rage: Yet mighty as they are, my force to prove Is only mine: the event belongs to Jove." He spoke, and high the sounding javelin flung, Which pass'd the shield of Aretus the young: It pierced his belt, emboss'd with curious art, Then in the lower belly struck the dart. As when a ponderous axe, descending full, Cleaves the broad forehead of some brawny bull:(249) Struck 'twixt the horns, he springs with many a bound, Then tumbling rolls enormous on the ground: Thus fell the youth; the air his soul received, And the spear trembled as his entrails heaved. Now at Automedon the Trojan foe Discharged his lance; the meditated blow, Stooping, he shunn'd; the javelin idly fled, And hiss'd innoxious o'er the hero's head; Deep rooted in the ground, the forceful spear In long vibrations spent its fury there. With clashing falchions now the chiefs had closed, But each brave