Speedily the charioteer drew the arrow forth, and from the wound the blood spurted upward.
Then cried Diomedes:
‘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.’