He spake, and Teucer, hearkening, came in haste, With his bent bow, and quiver full of shafts, And, standing near him, sent his arrows forth Among the Trojan warriors. There he smote Clitus, Pisenor’s eminent son, the friend Of the renowned Polydamas, who claimed His birth from Panthoüs. Clitus held the reins, Guiding the coursers of Polydamas Where most the crowded Grecian phalanxes Wavered and broke, that so he might support Hector and his companions. Soon he met, Brave as he was, disaster which no hand Had power to avert: the bitter arrow struck His neck behind, and from the chariot-seat He fell to earth; the startled steeds sprang back; The empty chariot rattled. This the king Polydamas perceived, and came to meet His steeds, and gave them to Astinous, The son of Protiaon, charging him To keep them ever near, and in his sight, While he, returning, mingled with the throng That struggled in the van. Then Teucer aimed Another shaft at Hector mailed in brass, Which, had it reached him fighting gallantly,