and the brazen spear passed over him, and was fixed
in the earth. But Pallas Minerva plucked it out, and gave it back to
Achilles, and escaped the notice of Hector, the shepherd of the people.
Then Hector addressed the illustrious son of Peleus:

"Thou hast erred, O godlike Achilles, nor art thou yet acquainted with
my fate from Jove; certainly thou didst say so, but thou art a prater,
and very subtle in words, in order that, dreading thee, I may be
forgetful of my strength and courage. But not in my back, whilst flying,
shalt thou thrust thy spear, but shalt drive it through my breast,
rushing right on, if God grants this to thee. But now in turn avoid my
brazen spear! would that thou mightst now receive it all in thy body.
Then truly would the war become lighter to the Trojans, thou being
slain; for thou art the greatest bane to them."

He spoke, and, brandishing, sent forth his long-shadowed spear, and
struck the centre of Pelides' shield, nor missed; but the spear was
repelled far away from the shield. But Hector was enraged because his
swift weapon had fled in vain from his hand; and stood dejected, for he
had not another ashen spear. Then he called upon the white-shielded
Deiphobus, greatly shouting, [and] he asked him for a long spear; but he
was not near him; and Hector perceived in his mind, and said:

"Alas! without doubt, now the gods have summoned me to death. For I
indeed thought the hero Deiphobus was by my side; but he is within the
wall, and Minerva has deceived me. But now is evil death near me, nor
far away, neither is there escape. Certainly this long since was more
agreeable to Jove and to the far-darting son of Jove, who formerly,
propitious, preserved me; but now, on the contrary, Fate overtakes me.
Nevertheless I will not perish cowardly and ingloriously at least, but
having done some great deed to be heard of even by posterity."

Thus having spoken, he drew his sharp sword, which hung below his loins,
both huge and strong, and, with collected might, rushed forward, like a
lofty-soaring eagle, which swoops to the plain through the gloomy
clouds, about to snatch either a tender lamb, or a timid hare; thus
Hector rushed forward, brandishing his sharp sword. Achilles also rushed
on, and filled his soul with fierce rage. He sheltered his breast in
front with his shield, beautiful, curiously wrought and nodded with his
shining helmet, four-coned; but the beautiful golden tufts, which Vulcan
had diff