| You are SARPEDON. Both your spears have missed, and now Patroclus' second throw hits you in the chest. You fall, like an oak or poplar or pine felled to make timbers for a ship. You shout to Glaucus to rally the Lycians - as death closes your eyes. Patroclus puts his boot on your chest, and pulls out his spear. Glaucus, still in agony himself from Teucer's arrow can't help. |
