Of all thy valor now; now strenuous fight,
  And, if thou bear within thee a brave mind,
  Now make the war’s calamities thy joy. 
  First, marching through the host of Lycia, rouse
  Our Chiefs to combat for Sarpedon slain, 600
  Then haste, thyself, to battle for thy friend. 
  For shame and foul dishonor which no time
  Shall e’er obliterate, I must prove to thee,
  Should the Achaians of my glorious arms
  Despoil me in full prospect[15] of the fleet. 605
  Fight, therefore, thou, and others urge to fight. 
    He said, and cover’d by the night of death,
  Nor look’d nor breath’d again; for on his chest
  Implanting firm his heel, Patroclus drew
  The spear enfolded with his vitals forth, 610
  Weapon and life at once.  Meantime his steeds
  Snorted, by Myrmidons detain’d, and, loosed
  From their own master’s chariot, foam’d to fly. 
  Terrible was the grief by Glaucus felt,
  Hearing that charge, and troubled was his heart 615
  That all power fail’d him to protect the dead. 
  Compressing his own arm he stood, with pain
  Extreme tormented which the shaft had caused
  Of Teucer, who while Glaucus climb’d the wall,
  Had pierced him from it, in the fleet’s defence. 620
  Then, thus, to Phoebus, King shaft-arm’d, he pray’d. 
    Hear now, O King!  For whether in the land
  Of wealthy Lycia dwelling, or in Troy,
  Thou hear’st in every place alike the prayer
  Of the afflicted heart, and such is mine; 625
  Behold my wound; it fills my useless hand
  With anguish, neither can my blood be stay’d,
  And all my shoulder suffers.  I can grasp
  A spear, or rush to conflict with the Greeks
  No longer now; and we have also lost 630
  Our noblest Chief, Sarpedon, son of Jove,
  Who guards not his own son.  But thou, O King! 
  Heal me, assuage my anguish, give me strength,
  That I may animate the Lycian host
  To fight, and may, myself, defend the dead! 635
    Such prayer he offer’d, whom Apollo heard;
  He eased at once his pain, the sable blood
  Staunch’d, and his soul with vigor new inspired. 
  Then Glaucus in his heart that prayer perceived
  Granted, and joyful for the sudden aid 640
  Vouchsafed to him by Phoebus, first the lines
  Of Lycia ranged, summoning every Chief
  To fight for slain Sarpedon; striding next
  With eager haste into the ranks of Troy,
  Renown’d Agenor and the son he call’d 645
  Of Panthus, brave Polydamas, with whom
  AEneas also, and approaching last
  To Hector brazen-mail’d him thus bespake. 
    Now, Hector! now, thou hast indeed resign’d
  All care of thy allies, who, for thy sake, 650