Then he called to his sons, upbraiding Helenus, Paris, noble Agathon, Pammon, Antiphonus, Polites of the loud battle-cry, Deiphobus, Hippothous, and Dius.

These nine did the old man call near him.

"Come to me at once," he cried, "worthless sons who do me shame; would that you had all been killed at the ships rather than Hector.
Miserable man that I am, I have had the bravest sons in all Troy--noble Nestor, Troilus the dauntless charioteer, and Hector who was a god among men, so that one would have thought he was son to an immortal--yet there is not one of them left.

Mars has slain them and those of whom I am ashamed are alone left me.

Liars, and light of foot, heroes of the dance, robbers of lambs and kids from your own people, why do you not get a waggon ready for me at once, and put all these things upon it that I may set out on my way ?" Thus did he speak, and they feared the rebuke of their father.