“O brother, join with me to hold in check This man, who threatens soon to overthrow King Priam’s noble city; for no more The Trojan host resist him. Come at once And aid me; fill thy channel from its springs, And summon all thy brooks, and lift on high A mighty wave, and roll along thy bed, Mingled in one great torrent, trees and stones, That we may tame this savage man, who now In triumph walks the field, and bears himself As if he were a god. His strength, I deem, Will not avail him, nor his noble form, Nor those resplendent arms, which yet shall lie Scattered along the bottom of my gulfs, And foul with ooze. Himself too I shall wrap In sand, and pile the rubbish of my bed In heaps around him. Never shall the Greeks Know where to gather up his bones, o’erspread By me with river-slime, for there shall be His burial-place; no other tomb the Greeks Will need when they perform his funeral rites.”