Achilles (Mythological character); Classical literature; Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Trojan War
And Sarpedon, captain of the Lycians, answered, “Tlepolemus, your
father overthrew Ilius by reason of Laomedon’s folly in refusing
payment to one who had served him well. He would not give your
father the horses which he had come so far to fetch. As for
yourself, you shall meet death by my spear. You shall yield glory
to myself, and your soul to Hades of the noble steeds.”
Thus spoke Sarpedon, and Tlepolemus upraised his spear. They
threw at the same moment, and Sarpedon struck his foe in the
middle of his throat; the spear went right through, and the
darkness of death fell upon his eyes. Tlepolemus’s spear struck
Sarpedon on the left thigh with such force that it tore through
the flesh and grazed the bone, but his father as yet warded off
destruction from him.
His comrades bore Sarpedon out of the fight, in great pain by the
weight of the spear that was dragging from his wound. They were
in such haste and stress as they bore him that no one thought of
drawing the spear from his thigh so as to let him walk uprightly.
Meanwhile the Achaeans carried off the body of Tlepolemus,
whereon Ulysses was moved to pity, and panted for the fray as he
beheld them. He doubted whether to pursue the son of Jove, or to
make slaughter of the Lycian rank and file; it was not decreed,
however, that he should slay the son of Jove; Minerva, therefore,
turned him against the main body of the Lycians. He killed
Coeranus, Alastor, Chromius, Alcandrus, Halius, Noemon, and
Prytanis, and would have slain yet more, had not great Hector
marked him, and sped to the front of the fight clad in his suit
of mail, filling the Danaans with terror. Sarpedon was glad when
he saw him coming, and besought him, saying, “Son of Priam, let
me not be here to fall into the hands of the Danaans. Help me,
and since I may not return home to gladden the hearts of my wife
and of my infant son, let me die within the walls of your city.”
Hector made him no answer, but rushed onward to fall at once upon
the Achaeans and kill many among them. His comrades then bore
Sarpedon away and laid him beneath Jove’s spreading oak tree.
Pelagon, his friend and comrade, drew the spear out of his thigh,
but Sarpedon fainted and a mist came over his eyes. Presently he
came to himself again, for the breath of the north wind as it
played upon him gave him new life, and brought him out of the
deep swoon into which he had fallen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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