The Aeneid by Virgil Book 6 Page 35

sought the ships; some raise a shout – faintly; the cry essayed mocks their gaping mouths.

And here he sees Deiphobus, son of Priam, his whole frame mangled and his face cruelly torn – his face and either hand – his ears wrenched from despoiled temples, and his nostrils lopped by a shameful wound. Scarce, indeed, did he know the quivering form that tried to hide its awful punishment; then, with familiar accents, unhailed, he accosts him: “Deiphobus, strong in battle, scion of Teucer’s high lineage, who chose to exact so cruel a penalty! Who had power to deal thus with you? Rumour told me that on that last night, weary with endless slaughter of Pelasgians, you had fallen upon a heap of mingled carnage. Then I myself set up a cenotaph upon the Rhoetean shore, and with loud cry called thrice upon your spirit.