Of youthful hinds, once pleasant to the eye,
Now levell’d, after ceaseless rain from Jove; 110
So drove Tydides into sudden flight
The Trojans; phalanx after phalanx fled
Before the terror of his single arm. 

    When him Lycaon’s son illustrious saw

Scouring the field, and from before his face 115
The ranks dispersing wide, at once he bent
Against Tydides his elastic bow. 
The arrow met him in his swift career
Sure-aim’d; it struck direct the hollow mail
Of his right shoulder, with resistless force 120
Transfix’d it, and his hauberk stain’d with blood. 
Loud shouted then Lycaon’s son renown’d. 

    Rush on, ye Trojans, spur your coursers hard. 

Our fiercest foe is wounded, and I deem
His death not distant far, if me the King[7] 125
Jove’s son, indeed, from Lycia sent to Troy. 

    So boasted Pandarus.  Yet him the dart

Quell’d not.  Retreating, at his coursers’ heads
He stood, and to the son of Capaneus
His charioteer and faithful friend he said. 130

    Arise, sweet son of Capaneus, dismount,

And from my shoulder draw this bitter shaft. 

    He spake; at once the son of Capaneus

Descending, by its barb the bitter shaft
Drew forth; blood spouted through his twisted mail 135
Incontinent, and thus the Hero pray’d. 

    Unconquer’d daughter of Jove AEgis-arm’d! 

If ever me, propitious, or my sire
Thou hast in furious fight help’d heretofore,
Now aid me also.  Bring within the reach 140
Of my swift spear, Oh grant me to strike through
The warrior who hath check’d my course, and boasts
The sun’s bright beams for ever quench’d to me![8]

    He prayed, and Pallas heard; she braced his limbs,

She wing’d him with alacrity divine, 145
And, standing at his side, him thus bespake. 

    Now Diomede, be bold!  Fight now with Troy. 

To thee, thy father’s spirit I impart
Fearless; shield-shaking Tydeus felt the same. 
I also from thine eye the darkness purge 150
Which dimm’d thy sight[9] before, that thou may’st know
Both Gods and men; should, therefore, other God
Approach to try thee, fight not with the powers
Immortal; but if foam-born Venus come,
Her spare not.  Wound her with thy glittering spear. 155

    So spake the blue-eyed Deity, and went,

Then with the champions in the van again
Tydides mingled; hot before, he fights
With threefold fury now, nor less enraged
Than some gaunt lion whom o’erleaping light 160
The fold, a shepherd hath but gall’d, not kill’d,
Him irritating more; thenceforth the swain
Lurks unresisting; flies the abandon’d flock;
Heaps slain on heaps he leaves, and with a bound