“Rally, ye Trojans! Tamers of fleet steeds! Yield not the battle to the Greeks. Their limbs Are not of stone or iron, to withstand The trenchant steel ye wield. Nor does the son Of fair-haired Thetis now, Achilles, take Part in the battle, but sits, brooding o’er The choler that devours him, in his ships.” Thus from the city spake the terrible god. Meantime Tritonian Pallas, glorious child Of Jupiter, went through the Grecian ranks Where’er they wavered, and revived their zeal.

Diores, son of Amarynceus, then Met his hard fate. The fragment of a rock Was thrown by hand at his right leg, and struck The ankle. Piroüs, son of Imbrasus, Who came from Aenus, leading to the war His Thracian soldiers, flung it; and it crushed Tendons and bones, and down the warrior fell In dust, and toward his comrades stretched his hands, And gasped for breath. But he who gave the wound, Piroüs, came up and pierced him with his spear. Forth gushed the entrails, and the eyes grew dark.