When he had thus spoken his feet bare him on; but the Achaeans firmly abode the oncoming of the Trojans, yet availed not to thrust them back from the ships, albeit they were fewer, nor ever could the Trojans break the battalions of the Danaans and make way into the midst of the huts and the ships.
But as the carpenter's line maketh straight a ship's timber in the hands of a cunning workman, that is well skilled in all manner of craft by the promptings of Athene, so evenly was strained their war and battle. So fought they on, divers of them about divers ships,
but Hector made straight for glorious Aias. They twain were labouring in the toil of war about the same ship, nor might the one drive back the other and burn the ship with fire, nor the other thrust him in back, now that a god had brought him nigh. Then did glorious Aias cast his spear and smite upon the breast Caletor, son of Clytius,
as he was bearing fire against the ship; and he fell with a thud, and the torch dropped from out his hand. But Hector, when his eyes beheld his cousin fallen in the dust in front of the black ship, called to the Trojans and Lycians with a loud shout:
“Ye Trojans and Lycians and Dardanians that fight in close combat, in no wise give ye ground from battle in this strait: nay, save ye the son of Clytius, lest so be the Achaeans strip him of his armour, now that he is fallen amid the gathering of the ships.”
So saying, he hurled at Aias with his bright spear;
him he missed, but Lycophron, Mastor's son, a squire of Aias from Cythera, who dwelt with him, for that he had slain a man in sacred Cythera—him Hector smote upon the head above the ear with the sharp bronze, even as he stood near Aias, and backward in the dust
he fell to the ground from off the stern of the ship and his limbs were loosed. And Aias shuddered, and spake unto his brother:“Good Teucer, verily a true comrade of us twain hath been laid low, even the son of Mastor, whom while he abode with us, being come from Cythera, we honoured in our halls even as our own parents.
Him hath great-souled Hector slain. Where now are thy arrows that bring swift death, and the bow that Phoebus Apollos gave thee?”