“Rally, ye Trojans! Tamers of fleet steeds! Yield not the battle to the Greeks. Their limbs Are not of stone or iron, to withstand The trenchant steel ye wield. Nor does the son Of fair-haired Thetis now, Achilles, take Part in the battle, but sits, brooding o’er The choler that devours him, in his ships.” Thus from the city spake the terrible god. Meantime Tritonian Pallas, glorious child Of Jupiter, went through the Grecian ranks Where’er they wavered, and revived their zeal.
Diores, son of Amarynceus, then Met his hard fate. The fragment of a rock Was thrown by hand at his right leg, and struck The ankle. Piroüs, son of Imbrasus, Who came from Aenus, leading to the war His Thracian soldiers, flung it; and it crushed Tendons and bones, and down the warrior fell In dust, and toward his comrades stretched his hands, And gasped for breath. But he who gave the wound, Piroüs, came up and pierced him with his spear. Forth gushed the entrails, and the eyes grew dark.
But Piroüs by Aetolian Thoas fell, Who met him with his spear and pierced his breast Above the pap. The brazen weapon stood Fixed in the lungs. Then Thoas came and plucked The massive spear away, and drew his sword, And thrusting through him the sharp blade, he took His life away. Yet could he not despoil The slain man of his armor, for around His comrades thronged, the Thracians, with their tufts Of streaming hair, and, wielding their long spears, Drove him away. And he, though huge of limb, And valiant and renowned, was forced to yield To numbers pressing on him, and withdrew. Thus near each other stretched upon the ground Piroüs, the leader of the Thracian band, And he who led the Epeans, brazen-mailed Diores, lay with many others slain.