Poseidon moved among the other Danaans, waking men who had drawn breath from battle.
He told Teucer, Leitos, Peneleos, Thoas, Deipyros, Meriones, and Antilochos that shame would fall on the young men if they let Hector burn the ships. He had thought the Trojans would never reach the fleet while Achilles was angry, but now the fault lay in their own slack hearts.
The men took courage. Around the two Aiantes they made a wall of shields so tight that Ares himself could not have found fault with it. Shield leaned on shield, helmet on helmet, man on man; horsehair crests touched as heads moved, and spears bristled in bold hands.
Hector led the Trojans in one mass, like a round boulder torn from a cliff by winter water, leaping through trees until it reaches the level ground and stops.
So Hector threatened to break through to the sea and ships, but when he met the dense Achaean line he halted. The sons of the Achaeans thrust at him with swords and double-pointed spears, and he drew back a little.
Hector shouted to Trojans, Lycians, and Dardanians to stand firm. He said the Achaeans would not hold long, even packed like a tower, if Zeus had truly urged him on.
Aias son of Telamon shouted back that Hector was mad to think they would yield. The Achaeans had hands too, and if Zeus was giving Troy strength today, the ships would still be hard to burn.
An eagle flew high on the right, and the Achaeans cried out at the omen. Hector answered that he cared nothing for birds, whether they flew right toward dawn and sun or left toward mist and darkness.
He followed the will of Zeus, who ruled gods and men. One omen was best: to fight for the fatherland.
The battle locked again. The Trojans pushed against the shield wall, and the Argives did not give way. Spears bit into shields, bronze rang, and the first ranks stood close enough to hear one another breathe under the helmets.