“O son of Tydeus! The swift-riding Greeks Have honored thee beyond all other men, At banquets, with high place and delicate meats And flowing cups. They will despise thee now, For thou art like a woman. Timorous girl! Take thyself hence, and never think that I Shall yield to thee, that thou mayst climb our towers And bear away our women in thy ships; For I shall give thee first the doom of death.”

He spake; and Diomed, in doubtful mood, Questioned his spirit whether he should turn His steeds and fight with Hector. Thrice the thought Arose within his mind, and thrice on high Uttered the all-forecasting Jupiter His thunder from the Idaean mount, a sign Of victory changing to the Trojan side. Then Hector to the Trojans called aloud:⁠—