Forbade our progress through his kingdom's bounds,
He stained with royal blood the untried hand
That young Achilles raised. Yet once again
He felt that selfsame hand in mercy laid
Upon his wound to heal him of its smart.
Then did Eëtion, smitten sore, behold
His city taken and his realm o'erthrown;
By equal fortune fell Lyrnessus' walls,220
For safety perched upon a ridgy height,
Whence came that captive maid, Briseïs fair;