Idomeneus was now fiercely assailed by a formidable antagonist, in the person of Deiphobus, a brother of Hector, and one of the bravest of the Trojans. Idomeneus crouched low as he saw him coming with brandished spear; and the weapon passed over him, just grazing the rim of his shield, but found a victim in another Greek, who was advancing to his support, and received the point in his breast. Down he went, and Deiphobus cried exultingly: "Not unavenged falls Asius, but I have given him a companion on his journey to the shades."
Thus saved from his peril, the stout old Cretan glared about him, looking for another mark for his spear; and he found one in the young Alcathous, who was married to a daughter of Anchises, and was thus closely related to Æneas. The youthful prince, being new to the work of war, was bewildered by the roar and tumult of the struggle which was raging around him, and stood, overpowered by sudden panic, within close range of the Cretan captain's lance. "Sleepest thou, pretty lad!" shouted the grim veteran, "I will wake thee from thy slumber." And he clove him through the breast with his spear, which stilled the last beatings of his heart.
"Three Trojans for one Greek!" shouted Idomeneus. "Art thou content, Deiphobus? Come hither, and I will add a fourth. It will be glory enough for thee to die by the hand of Idomeneus, whose grandsire was Minos, the very son of Zeus."
Deiphobus deemed it prudent to decline the challenge, and he went in search of Æneas, to inform him of his kinsman's fall. Æneas was loitering in the rear, for he had a grudge against Priam, which chilled his ardour for the battle. But when he heard that Alcathous was slain his heart burned to avenge him, and he hurried to the front, where he was joined by Paris and a strong band of Trojans. Idomeneus, on his part, was reinforced by the arrival of Meriones, Antilochus, and Ascalaphus, a son of Ares, with their followers; and so the fight raged on, and many a stout warrior went down to swell the muster-roll of death.
There fought Helenus, the prophetic son of Priam, armed with bow and arrows, and wielding a mighty falchion, tempered in a Thracian forge. With one blow of that trenchant blade he shattered the helmet of a Greek warrior, a friend of Menelaus, and laid him at his feet, stunned and bleeding. Menelaus sprang to his friend's relief, and flung his spear at Helenus; and at the same moment Helenus shot an arrow, which struck the prince on the breastplate, but rebounded as beans or pulse rebound from the winnower's shovel, while the spear of Menelaus pierced him through the left hand, pinning it to the bow. Helenus retired, trailing the spear after him, until a comrade drew it out, and bound up the wounded hand with a woollen sling, which he took from his squire.
Menelaus was now attacked by another Trojan chieftain, who, after making an abortive thrust with his spear, took in his hand an axe, which hung inside his shield, and, swinging the weapon over his head by its long shaft of olive-wood, leapt upon him with a fierce cry. But before the blow could descend he received a fearful wound in the forehead, from the sword of the Spartan king, and fell backwards in the dust. "So may all the Trojans perish!" cried Menelaus, setting his foot on the breast of his prostrate foe. "Ye have robbed me of my wife; ye have plundered my treasure, after receiving generous welcome under my roof. And now ye come hither to burn our fleet, and butcher us in our camp. Great sire of heaven, men praise thy righteousness, and call thee wise above all gods and men: how then canst thou lend thy countenance to these bloodthirsty robbers, whose pastime is murder, whose joy is to betray?"
Menelaus. Vatican, Rome
Carried away by his eloquence, Menelaus failed to observe that he was threatened by a new assailant. This was Harpalion, son of the King of Paphlagonia, who charged at him, lance in hand. Menelaus was just in time to receive the blow on his shield, and before Harpalion could recover his weapon he was transfixed by the spear of Meriones, and lay writhing like a worm on the ground, until he was borne, groaning, from the field by his attendants, followed by his weeping father.