ord
retains, according to the Homeric usage, in Od. t. 516, as a
fixed epithet of the heart, although there its physical state has
nothing to do with the context." Buttm. Lexil. p. 33.]

[Footnote 533: See Buttm. Lexil. p. 267.]

[Footnote 534: "Indignata anima gemebat,"--Heyne, comparing AEn.
xii. Ult. "Vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras."]

"Glaucus, dear friend, warrior amongst heroes, now it greatly behoves
thee to be a hero and a bold warrior; now if thou art impetuous, let
destructive battle be thy desire. First indeed, going in every
direction, exhort the leaders of the Lycians to fight around Sarpedon,
and do thou thyself also fight for me with thy spear. For I will
hereafter be a cause of shame and disgrace to thee, all thy days,
throughout, if indeed the Greeks despoil me of my armour, falling in the
conflict at the ships. But persevere, and animate all the army."

While he was thus speaking, the end of death covered him as to his eyes
and nostrils; but Patroclus, trampling with his heel upon his breast,
drew out the spear from his body, and the midriff[535] followed with it;
and he drew out at the same time his life and the point of the weapon.
But the Myrmidons there held his panting steeds, eager to fly along,
since they had quitted the chariots of their lords. Then bitter grief
arose to Glaucus, hearing the voice [of his friend], and his heart was
grieved because he could not aid him. But grasping his own arm in his
hand, he compressed it; for grievously the wound pained him, which
Teucer, with an arrow, had inflicted upon him, as he was rushing against
the lofty wall, warding off the battle from his companions. Wherefore,
praying, he addressed far-darting Apollo:

[Footnote 535: Probably the _pericardium_ is meant.]

"Hear, O king, thou who art somewhere in the rich state of Lycia, or in
Troy; for thou canst everywhere hear a man afflicted, as sorrow now
comes upon me. For indeed I have this grievous wound, and my hand is
penetrated on every side with acute pains, nor can the blood be
stanched, but my shoulder is oppressed with it. For neither can I firmly
I hold my spear, nor, advancing, fight with the enemy; moreover a very
brave hero has fallen, Sarpedon, the son of Jove; but he aids not even
his own son. But heal for me this severe wound, O king; assuage my
pains, and grant me strength, that, cheering on my companions, the
Lycians, I may urge them to fight; and ma