Then Achilles caught him by the foot and flung him into the river to go down stream, vaunting over him the while, and saying, "Lie there among the fishes, who will lick the blood from your wound and gloat over it; your mother shall not lay you on any bier to mourn you, but the eddies of Scamander shall bear you into the broad bosom of the sea.

There shall the fishes feed on the fat of Lycaon as they dart under the dark ripple of the waters--so perish all of you till we reach the citadel of strong Ilius--you in flight, and I following after to destroy you.

The river with its broad silver stream shall serve you in no stead, for all the bulls you offered him and all the horses that you flung living into his waters.

None the less miserably shall you perish till there is not a man of you but has paid in full for the death of Patroclus and the havoc you wrought among the Achaeans whom you have slain while I held aloof from battle." So spoke Achilles, but the river grew more and more angry, and pondered within himself how he should stay the hand of Achilles and save the Trojans from disaster.

Meanwhile the son of Peleus, spear in hand, sprang upon Asteropaeus son of Pelegon to kill him.