Book V

Achaians, giving them In charge, to lead them to the hollow ships, To his beloved friend Deipylus, Whom he of all his comrades honored most, As likest to himself in years and mind. And then he climbed his car and took the reins, And, swiftly drawn by his firm-footed steeds, Followed Tydides, who with cruel steel Sought Venus, knowing her unapt for war, And all unlike the goddesses who guide The battles of mankind, as Pallas does, Or as Bellona, ravager of towns. O’ertaking her at last, with long pursuit, Amid the throng of warring men, the son Of warlike Tydeus aimed at her his spear, And wounded in her hand the delicate one With its sharp point. It pierced the ambrosial robe, Wrought for her by the Graces, at the spot Where the palm joins the wrist, and broke the skin, And drew immortal blood⁠—the ichor⁠—such As from the blessed gods may flow; for they Eat not the wheaten loaf, nor drink dark wine; And therefore they are bloodless, and are called Immortal. At the stroke the goddess shrieked, And dropped her son. Apollo in his arms Received and in a dark cloud