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The son of scheming Kronos looked down upon them in pity and said to Hera who was his wife and sister, "Alas, that it should be the lot of Sarpedon whom I love so dearly to perish by the hand of Patroklos. I am in two minds whether to catch him up out of the fight and set him down safe and sound in the fertile district [dêmos] of Lycia, or to let him now fall by the hand of the son of Menoitios."

And Hera answered, "Most dread son of Kronos, what is this that you are saying? Would you snatch a mortal man, whose doom has long been fated, out of the jaws of death? Do as you will, but we shall not all of us be of your mind. I say further, and lay my saying to your heart, that if you send Sarpedon safely to his own home, some other of the gods will be also wanting to escort his son out of battle, for there are many sons of gods fighting round the city of Troy, and you will make every one jealous. If, however, you are fond of him and pity him, let him indeed fall by the hand of Patroklos, but as soon as the life [psukhê] is gone out of him, send Death and sweet Sleep to bear him off the field and take him to the broad district [dêmos] of Lycia, where his brothers and his kinsmen will bury him with mound and pillar, in due honor to the dead."

The sire of gods and men assented, but he shed a rain of blood upon the earth in honor [timê] of his son whom Patroklos was about to kill on the fertile plain of Troy far from his home.

When they were now come close to one another Patroklos struck Thrasydemos, the brave squire [therapôn] of Sarpedon, in the lower part of the belly, and killed him. Sarpedon then aimed a spear at Patroklos and missed him, but he struck the horse Pedasos in the right shoulder, and it screamed aloud as it lay, groaning in the dust until the life went out of it. The other two horses began to plunge; the pole of the chariot cracked and they got entangled in the reins through the fall of the horse that was yoked along with them; but Automedon knew what to do; without the loss of a moment he drew the keen blade that hung by his sturdy thigh and cut the third horse adrift; whereon the other two righted themselves, and pulling hard at the reins again went together into battle.

Sarpedon now took a second aim at Patroklos, and again missed him, the point of the spear passed over his left shoulder without hitting him. Patroklos then aimed in his turn, and the spear sped not from his hand in vain, for he hit Sarpedon just where the midriff surrounds the ever-beating heart. He fell like some oak or silver poplar or tall pine to which woodmen have laid their axes upon the mountains to make timber for ship-building - even so did he lie stretched at full length in front of his chariot and horses, moaning and clutching at the blood-stained dust. As when a lion springs with a bound upon a herd of cattle and fastens on a great black bull which dies bellowing in its clutches - even so did the leader of the Lycian warriors struggle in death as he fell by the hand of Patroklos. He called on his trusty comrade and said, "Glaukos, my brother, hero among heroes, put forth all your strength, fight with might and main, now if ever quit yourself like a valiant warrior. First go about among the Lycian leaders and bid them fight for Sarpedon; then yourself also do battle to save my armor from being taken. My name will haunt you henceforth and for ever if the Achaeans rob me of my armor now that I have fallen near the assembly [agôn] of their ships. Do your very utmost and call all my people together."

The outcome [telos] of death closed his eyes as he spoke. Patroklos planted his heel on his breast and drew the spear from his body, whereon his diaphragm came out along with it, and he drew out both spear-point and Sarpedon's life-breath [psukhê] at the same time. Hard by the Myrmidons held his snorting steeds, who were wild with panic at finding themselves deserted by their lords. Glaukos was overcome with grief [akhos] when he heard what Sarpedon said, for he could not help him. He had to support his arm with his other hand, being in great pain through the wound which Teucer's arrow had given him when Teucer was defending the wall as he, Glaukos, was assailing it. Therefore he prayed to far-darting Apollo saying, "Hear me O king from your seat, may be in the fertile district [dêmos] of Lycia, or may be in Troy, for in all places you can hear the prayer of one who is in distress, as I now am. I have a grievous wound; my hand is aching with pain, there is no staunching the blood, and my whole arm drags by reason of my hurt, so that I cannot grasp my sword nor go among my foes and fight them, though our prince, Zeus' son Sarpedon, is slain. Zeus defended not his son, do you, therefore, O king, heal me of my wound, ease my pain and grant me strength both to cheer on the Lycians and to fight along with them round the body of him who has fallen."

Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He eased his pain, staunched the black blood from the wound, and gave him new strength. Glaukos perceived this, and was thankful that the mighty god had answered his prayer; forthwith, therefore, he went among the Lycian leaders, and bade them come to fight about the body of Sarpedon. From these he strode on among the Trojans to Polydamas son of Panthoos and Agenor; he then went in search of Aeneas and Hektor, and when he had found them he said, "Hektor, you have utterly forgotten your allies, who languish here for your sake far from friends and home while you do nothing to support them.

Sarpedon leader of the Lycian warriors has fallen - he who was at once the right and might of Lycia; Ares has laid him low by the spear of Patroklos. Stand by him, my friends, and suffer not the Myrmidons to strip him of his armor, nor to treat his body with contumely in revenge for all the Danaans whom we have speared at the ships."

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