Through eagerness of haste to bear him thence. 
On the other side, the Grecians brazen-mail’d
Bore off Tlepolemus.  Ulysses fill’d
With earnest thoughts tumultuous them observed, 795
Danger-defying Chief!  Doubtful he stood
Or to pursue at once the Thunderer’s son
Sarpedon, or to take more Lycian lives. 
But not for brave Ulysses had his fate
That praise reserved, that he should slay the son 800
Renown’d of Jove; therefore his wavering mind
Minerva bent against the Lycian band. 
Then Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius fell,
Alcander, Halius, Prytanis, and brave
Noemon; nor had these sufficed the Chief 805
Of Ithaca, but Lycians more had fallen,
Had not crest-tossing Hector huge perceived
The havoc; radiant to the van he flew,
Filling with dread the Grecians; his approach
Sarpedon, son of Jove, joyful beheld, 810
And piteous thus address’d him as he came. 

    Ah, leave not me, Priamides! a prey

To Grecian hands, but in your city, at least,
Grant me to die:  since hither, doom’d, I came
Never to gratify with my return 815
To Lycia, my loved spouse, or infant child. 

    He spake; but Hector unreplying pass’d

Impetuous, ardent to repulse the Greeks
That moment, and to drench his sword in blood. 
Then, under shelter of a spreading beech 820
Sacred to Jove, his noble followers placed
The godlike Chief Sarpedon, where his friend
Illustrious Pelagon, the ashen spear
Extracted.  Sightless, of all thought bereft,
He sank, but soon revived, by breathing airs 825
Refresh’d, that fann’d him gently from the North. 

    Meantime the Argives, although press’d alike

By Mars himself and Hector brazen-arm’d,
Neither to flight inclined, nor yet advanced
To battle, but inform’d that Mars the fight 830
Waged on the side of Ilium, slow retired.[16]

    Whom first, whom last slew then the mighty son

Of Priam, Hector, and the brazen Mars! 
First godlike Teuthras, an equestrian Chief,
Orestes, Trechus of AEtolian race, 835
OEnomaues, Helenus from OEnops’ sprung,
And brisk[17] in fight Oresbius; rich was he,
And covetous of more; in Hyla dwelt
Fast by the lake Cephissus, where abode
Boeotian Princes numerous, rich themselves 840
And rulers of a people wealth-renown’d. 
But Juno, such dread slaughter of the Greeks
Noting, thus, ardent, to Minerva spake. 

    Daughter of Jove invincible!  Our word

That Troy shall perish, hath been given in vain 845
To Menelaus, if we suffer Mars
To ravage longer uncontrol’d.  The time
Urges, and need appears that we ourselves
Now call to mind the fury of our might.