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Thus toiled they in the mighty conflict; [85] but of Tydeus' son couldst thou not have told with which host of the twain he was joined, whether it was with the Trojans that he had fellowship or with the Achaeans. For he stormed across the plain like unto a winter torrent at the full, that with its swift flood sweeps away the embankments; this the close-fenced embankments hold not back, [90] neither do the walls of the fruitful vineyards stay its sudden coming when the rain of Zeus driveth it on; and before it in multitudes the fair works of men fall in ruin. Even in such wise before Tydeus' son were the thick battalions of the Trojans driven in rout, nor might they abide him for all they were so many. [95] But when the glorious son of Lycaon was ware of him as he raged across the plain and drove the battalions in rout before him, forthwith he bent against the son of Tydeus his curved bow, and with sure aim smote him as he rushed onwards upon the right shoulder on the plate of his corselet; through this sped the bitter arrow [100] and held straight on its way, and the corselet was spattered with blood. Over him then shouted aloud the glorious son of Lycaon: “Rouse you, great-souled Trojans, ye goaders of horses. Smitten is the best man of the Achaeans, and I deem he will not for long endure the mighty shaft, if in very truth the king, [105] the son of Zeus, sped me on my way when I set forth from Lycia.” So spake he vauntingly; howbeit that other did the swift arrow not lay low, but he drew back, and took his stand before his horses and chariot, and spake to Sthenelus, son of Capaneus:“Rouse thee, good son of Capaneus; get thee down from the car, [110] that thou mayest draw forth from my shoulder the bitter arrow.” So spake he, and Sthenelus leapt from his chariot to the ground, and stood beside him, and drew forth the swift arrow clean through his shoulder; and the blood spurted up through the pliant1 tunic. And thereat Diomedes, good at the war-cry, made prayer: [115] “Hear me, child of Zeus that beareth the aegis, unwearied one! If ever with kindly thought thou stoodest by my father's side amid the fury of battle, even so do thou now be likewise kind to me, Athene. Grant that I may slay this man, and that he come within the cast of my spear, that hath smitten me or ever I was ware of him, and boasteth over me, [120] and declareth that not for long shall I behold the bright light of the sun.”

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