Swift, at the word, the herald speeds along The lofty ramparts, through the martial throng, And finds the heroes bathed in sweat and gore, Opposed in combat on the dusty shore. “Ye valiant leaders of our warlike bands! Your aid (said Thoos) Peteus’ son demands; Your strength, united, best may help to bear The bloody labours of the doubtful war: Thither the Lycian princes bend their course, The best and bravest of the hostile force. But if too fiercely, here, the foes contend, At least, let Telamon those towers defend, And Teucer haste with his unerring bow To share the danger, and repel the foe.”