‘Hear me, Athene! If ever thou didst stand by my father in heat of battle, stand now by me. Bring me within a spear’s thrust of this man who hath wounded me, and grant that I may slay him.’ So he prayed, and Athene heard him. ‘Be of good courage, Diomedes,’ she said. ‘Thy prayer is granted. But if thou shouldst meet any of the gods in battle, smite none of them save golden Aphrodite.’ Then did Diomedes turn back to the battle, and threefold courage came upon him, so that he fought as fights an angry lion. Ten warriors, brave and gallant, fell before him, and the horses of these he took and gave to his men to drive to the ships. Then said Aeneas, captain of the Trojan host, son of a mortal warrior and of the goddess Aphrodite: ‘Where are thy bows and arrows, Pandarus? Canst thou not slay this man who makes havoc of the host?’ ‘Methinks this man is Diomedes,’ answered Pandarus. ‘Already have I smitten him, but without avail. Surely he is no man, but a wrathful god. Behind me in my own dear land left I eleven fair chariots, each with its yoke of horses, for I feared that my good horses might not find fodder in the camp. So now have I no chariot but only my bow, and now is my bow of no help to me, for Menelaus and Diomedes have I smitten, yet they have not died.’ Then said Aeneas: ‘Talk not thus, but mount in my chariot and take the reins and whip, and I myself will stand upon the car and fight with Diomedes.’ ‘Nay,’ said Pandarus, ‘take thou thyself the reins. Should thy horses be driven by one they know not, and hear a strange voice from him who drives them, mad might they go with fear. So drive thine own horses, Aeneas, and with my spear will I go against Diomedes.’ In the chariot then mounted Aeneas and Pandarus, and swiftly galloped the horses against Diomedes. His charioteer saw them coming and to Diomedes he said: ‘Pandarus and Aeneas come against us, Diomedes--mighty warriors both. Let us haste back to our chariot.’ ‘Speak not of flight!’ answered Diomedes. ‘It is not in my blood to skulk or cower down. As for these, both shall not escape me. But if Athene grant that I slay them both, then stay my chariot where it is, binding the reins to the chariot rim, and leap upon the horses of Aeneas and drive them forth into the host of the Greeks. For truly there are no better horses under the sun than these horses of Aeneas.’ When Pandarus and Aeneas drew near, fiercely Pandarus hurled his bronze-shod spear. Through the shield of Diomedes it passed, and reached his breastplate. ‘Thou art hit in the loin!’ cried Pandarus; ‘now, methinks, thou soon shalt die.’ But Diomedes, unafraid, replied: ‘Nay! thou hast missed and not hit.’ With that he hurled his spear. Through the nose and teeth and tongue of Pandarus it passed, and from the chariot he fell, his gleaming armour clanging on the ground. And it was from a dead man that the horses swerved aside.