“Lunging at Paris, he grabbed his horsehair crest, swung him round, started to drag him into Argive lines and now the braided chin-strap holding his helmet tight was gouging his soft throat – Paris was choking, strangling.” […]
“As ravening fire rips through big stands of timber high on a mountain ridge and the blaze flares miles away, so from the marching troops the blaze of bronze armor, splendid and superhuman, flared across the earth, flashing into the air to hit the skies.” […]
“Then onto the flaming chariot Pallas set her feet and seized her spear – weighted, heavy, the massive shaft she wields to break the battle lines of heroes the mighty Father’s daughter storms against.” […]
But once Diomedes caught Aphrodite, stalking her through the onslaught, gallant Tydeus’ offspring rushed her, lunging out, thrusting his sharp spear at her soft, limp wrist and the brazen point went slashing through her […]
“Whichever contenders trample on this treaty first, spill their brains on the ground as this wine spills – theirs, their children’s too – their enemies rape their wives!” […]
“Now the savage work went on, Acheans and Trojans mauling each other there like wolves, leaping, hurtling into each other, man throttling man.” […]
“Wildly as two winter torrents raging down from the mountains, swirling into a valley, hurl their great waters together, flash floods from the wellsprings plunging down in a gorge and miles away in the hills a shepherd hears the thunder – so from the grinding armies broke the cries and crash of war.” […]
“Thoas speared him as he swerved and sprang away, the lancehead piercing his chest above the nipple plunged deep in his lung, and Thoas, running up, wrenched the heavy spear from the man’s chest, drew his blade, ripping him across the belly, took his life but he could not strip his armor.” […]
“Incensed for the dead Odysseus speared him straight through one temple and out the other; punched the sharp bronze point and the dark came swirling thick across his eyes – down he crashed, armor clanging against his chest.” […]
“Paris sprang from the Trojan forward ranks, a challenger, lithe, magnificent as a god, the skin of a leopard slung across his shoulders, a reflex bow at his back and battle-sword at his and brandishing two sharp spears tipped in bronze he strode forth, challenging all the Argive best to fight him face-to-face in mortal combat.” […]
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