discreet! 

I bring thee counsel from the Sire of all. 
While yet thou shalt the son of Atreus see
Fierce warring in the van, and mowing down 245
The warrior ranks, so long he bids thee pause
From battle, leaving to thy host the task
Of bloody contest furious with the Greeks. 
But soon as Atreus’ son, by spear or shaft
Wounded, shall climb his chariot, Jove will then 250
Endue thee with such force, that thou shalt slay
Till thou have reach’d the ships, and till, the sun
Descending, sacred darkness cover all. 

    So saying, swift-pinion’d Iris disappear’d. 

Then Hector from his chariot at a leap 255
Came down all arm’d, and, shaking his bright spears,
Ranged every quarter, animating loud
The legions, and rekindling horrid war. 
Back roll’d the Trojan ranks, and faced the Greeks;
The Greeks their host to closer phalanx drew; 260
The battle was restored, van fronting van
They stood, and Agamemnon into fight
Sprang foremost, panting for superior fame. 

    Say now, ye Nine, who on Olympus dwell! 

What Trojan first, or what ally of Troy 265
Opposed the force of Agamemnon’s arm? 
Iphidamas, Antenor’s valiant son,
Of loftiest stature, who in fertile Thrace
Mother of flocks was nourish’d, Cisseus him
His grandsire, father of Theano praised 270
For loveliest features, in his own abode
Rear’d yet a child, and when at length he reach’d
The measure of his glorious manhood firm
Dismiss’d him not, but, to engage him more,
Gave him his daughter.  Wedded, he his bride 275
As soon deserted, and with galleys twelve
Following the rumor’d voyage of the Greeks,
The same course steer’d; but at Percope moor’d,
And marching thence, arrived on foot at Troy. 
He first opposed Atrides.  They approach’d. 280
The spear of Agamemnon wander’d wide;
But him Iphidamas on his broad belt
Beneath the corselet struck, and, bearing still
On his spear-beam, enforced it; but ere yet
He pierced the broider’d zone, his point, impress’d 285
Against the silver, turn’d, obtuse as lead. 
Then royal Agamemnon in his hand
The weapon grasping, with a lion’s rage
Home drew it to himself, and from his gripe
Wresting it, with his falchion keen his neck 290
Smote full, and stretch’d him lifeless at his foot. 
So slept Iphidamas among the slain;
Unhappy! from his virgin bride remote,
Associate with the men of Troy in arms
He fell, and left her beauties unenjoy’d. 295
He gave her much, gave her a hundred beeves,
And sheep and goats a thousand from his flocks
Promised, for numberless his meadows ranged;
But Agamemnon, son of Atreus, him
Slew and despoil’d, and through the Grecian