He spake. The spirit of the youth took fire, And instantly he hastened toward the ships Of Peleus’ son. But when he came where lay The galleys of Ulysses the divine, Where was the assembly-place and judgment-seat, And where the altars of the immortals stood, Evaemon’s noble son, Eurypylus, Met him as from the battle-field he came Halting, and with an arrow in his thigh. The sweat ran down his shoulders and his brow, And the black blood was oozing from his wound, Yet was his spirit untamed. The gallant youth, Son of Menoetius, saw with grief, and said:⁠—

“Unhappy chiefs and princes of the Greeks! Are ye then doomed to feast with your fair limbs The famished dogs of Ilium, far away From friends and country? Tell me, child of Jove, Gallant Eurypylus, will yet the Greeks Withstand the mighty Hector, or give way And perish, overtaken by his spear?”