Sarpedon, leader of the Lycians, thus Made answer: “True it is, Tlepolemus, That he laid waste the sacred city of Troy For the base dealings of Laomedon, The monarch who with railing words repaid His great deservings, and kept back the steeds For which he came so far. But thou⁠—thy fate Is slaughter and black death from this my spear; And fame will come to me, and one more soul Go down to Hades.” As Sarpedon spake, Tlepolemus upraised his ashen spear, And from the hands of both the chiefs at once Their massive weapons flew. Sarpedon smote Full in the throat his foe; the cruel point Passed through the neck, and night came o’er his eyes. Tlepolemus, in turn, on the left thigh Had struck Sarpedon with his ponderous lance. The weapon, cast with vigorous hand and arm, Pierced deep, and touched the bone; but Jupiter Averted from his son the doom of death.