As Hector follow’d, Idomen address’d The flaming javelin to his manly breast; The brittle point before his corslet yields; Exulting Troy with clamour fills the fields: High on his chariots the Cretan stood, The son of Priam whirl’d the massive wood. But erring from its aim, the impetuous spear Struck to the dust the squire and charioteer Of martial Merion: Coeranus his name, Who left fair Lyctus for the fields of fame. On foot bold Merion fought; and now laid low, Had graced the triumphs of his Trojan foe, But the brave squire the ready coursers brought, And with his life his master’s safety bought. Between his cheek and ear the weapon went, The teeth it shatter’d, and the tongue it rent. Prone from the seat he tumbles to the plain; His dying hand forgets the falling rein: This Merion reaches, bending from the car, And urges to desert the hopeless war: Idomeneus consents; the lash applies; And the swift chariot to the navy flies.