So prayed he: Phoebus hearkened, and at once Assuaged the pain, and stanched the purple blood In the deep wound, and filled his frame with strength. The warrior felt the change, rejoiced to know That with such friendly speed the mighty god Granted his prayer. And first he went among The Lycian chiefs, exhorting them to wage Fierce battle for Sarpedon. Then he sought, Walking with rapid strides, the Trojan chiefs, Agenor, nobly born, Polydamas, The son of Panthoüs, Aeneas next, And Hector mailed in brass. By him he stood, And thus accosted him with wingèd words:—
“O Hector, thou art careless of the fate Of thine allies, who for thy sake, afar From those they love, and from their native land, Pour out their lives; thou bringest them no aid. Sarpedon lies in death, the chief who led The bucklered Lycians, who with justice swayed The realm of Lycia, and defended it With valor. Him hath brazen Mars beneath The weapon of Patroclus smitten down. Come then, my friends, repulse we gallantly These Myrmidons; else will they bear away His armor and insult his corpse, to avenge The havoc we have made among the Greeks Who perished by our weapons at the fleet.”
He spake, and grief immitigable seized The Trojans; for the slain, though stranger-born, Had been a pillar of the realm of Troy, And many were the troops that followed him, And he was bravest of them all in war.
Then rushed the Trojans fiercely on the Greeks, With Hector, sorrowing for Sarpedon’s fall, Leading them on, while the bold-hearted chief, Patroclus Menoetiades, aroused The courage of the Greeks. He thus addressed The warriors Ajax, eager like himself For combat: “Be it now your welcome task, O warriors Ajax, to drive back the foe; He who first sprang across the Grecian wall, Sarpedon, lies a corpse, and we must now Dishonor the dead chief, and strip from him His armor, and strike down with our good spears Whoever of his comrades shall resist.”