encouraged one another to face up to deadly war and not to stay cowering by the ships through fear of the yells of the enemy, keen for the fight. They went to meet the Trojan charge as calves go to meet cows returning to the byre from pasturing in the mountain thickets in springtime—when crops grow abundantly in the fields, the earth teems plentifully with flowers, and the bowls are full of milk from the cows and sheep; everywhere a great lowing arises as they come together, and the oxherd rejoices among them: such was the clamor that arose as they charged together with a terrific yelling from both sides.

In the long drawn out and intense fighting that followed, Uproar stalked in their midst in company with dreadful Slaughter. Shields, spears and helmets fell pell-mell as the bronze glittered like fire. The battle bristled with spears, and everywhere the black earth grew wet with the blood of slaughtered heroes and swift-footed horses, collapsed in the shafts, some still gasping from spear wounds while others fell on top of them. A hideous yelling filled the air as Strife decked in bronze fell upon both sides. Some did their baneful work with stones, others again with freshly-sharpened javelins or with arrows, and yet others with hatchets, double-edged axes, mighty swords and spears for close fighting: each man had armed himself with his chosen weapon.

The Argive front ranks made the Trojan lines fall back