Patroclus, having cut the nearest bands Of Troy in pieces, made his warriors turn Back to the fleet, and, eager as they were, Stopped the pursuit that led them toward the town. Then, in the area bounded by the sea, River, and lofty wall, he chased and smote And took full vengeance. With his glittering spear He wounded Pronoüs where the buckler left The breast exposed; the Trojan with a clash Fell to the earth, and life forsook his limbs. Advancing in his might, Patroclus smote Thestor, the son of Enops, as he sat Cowering upon his sumptuous seat, o’ercome With fear, and dropped the reins. Through his right cheek Among the teeth Patroclus thrust his spear, And o’er the chariot’s border drew him forth With the spear’s stem. As when an angler sits Upon a jutting rock, and from the sea Draws a huge fish with line and gleaming hook, So did Patroclus, with his shining spear, Draw forth the panting Trojan from his car, And shook him clear: he fell to earth and died.