The fight around the body of Patroclus.



      Brave Menelaus son of Atreus now came to know that Patroclus had

      fallen, and made his way through the front ranks clad in full

      armour to bestride him. As a cow stands lowing over her first

      calf, even so did yellow-haired Menelaus bestride Patroclus. He

      held his round shield and his spear in front of him, resolute to

      kill any who should dare face him. But the son of Panthous had

      also noted the body, and came up to Menelaus saying, “Menelaus,

      son of Atreus, draw back, leave the body, and let the

      blood-stained spoils be. I was first of the Trojans and their

      brave allies to drive my spear into Patroclus, let me, therefore,

      have my full glory among the Trojans, or I will take aim and kill

      you.”



      To this Menelaus answered in great anger “By father Jove,

      boasting is an ill thing. The pard is not more bold, nor the lion

      nor savage wild boar, which is fiercest and most dauntless of all

      creatures, than are the proud sons of Panthous. Yet Hyperenor did

      not see out the days of his youth when he made light of me and

      withstood me, deeming me the meanest soldier among the Danaans.

      His own feet never bore him back to gladden his wife and parents.

      Even so shall I make an end of you too, if you withstand me; get

      you back into the crowd and do not face me, or it shall be worse

      for you. Even a fool may be wise after the event.”



      Euphorbus would not listen, and said, “Now indeed, Menelaus,

      shall you pay for the death of my brother over whom you vaunted,

      and whose wife you widowed in her bridal chamber, while you

      brought grief unspeakable on his parents. I shall comfort these

      poor people if I bring your head and armour and place them in the

      hands of Panthous and noble Phrontis. The time is come when this

      matter shall be fought out and settled, for me or against me.”



      As he spoke he struck Menelaus full on the shield, but the spear

      did not go through, for the shield turned its point. Menelaus

      then took aim, praying to father Jove as he did so; Euphorbus was

      drawing back, and Menelaus struck him about the roots of his

      throat, leaning his whole weight on the spear, so as to drive it

      home. The point went clean through his neck, and his armour rang

      rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. His hair

      which was like that of the Graces, and his locks so deftly bound

      in bands of silver and gold, were all bedrabbled with blood. As

      one who has grown a fine young olive tree in a clear space where

      there is abundance of water—the plant is full of promise, and

      though the winds beat upon it from every quarter it puts forth

      its white blossoms till the blasts of some fierce hurricane sweep

      down upon it and level it with the ground—even so did Menelaus

      strip the fair youth Euphorbus of his armour after he had slain

      him. Or as some fierce lion upon the mountains in the pride of

      his strength fastens on the finest heifer in a herd as it is

      feeding—first he breaks her neck with his strong jaws, and then

      gorges on her blood and entrails; dogs and shepherds raise a hue

      and cry against him, but they stand aloof and will not come close

      to him, for they are pale with fear—even so no one had the

      courage to face valiant Menelaus. The son of Atreus would have

      then carried off the armour of the son of Panthous with ease, had

      not Phoebus Apollo been angry, and in the guise of Mentes chief

      of the Cicons incited Hector to attack him. “Hector,” said he,

      “you are now going after the horses of the noble son of Aeacus,

      but you will not take them; they cannot be kept in hand and

      driven by mortal man, save only by Achilles, who is son to an

      immortal mother. Meanwhile Menelaus son of Atreus has bestridden

      the body of Patroclus and killed the noblest of the Trojans,

      Euphorbus son of Panthous, so that he can fight no more.”



      The god then went back into the toil and turmoil, but the soul of

      Hector was darkened with a cloud of grief; he looked along the

      ranks and saw Euphorbus lying on the ground with the blood still

      flowing from his wound, and Menelaus stripping him of his armour.

      On this he made his way to the front like a flame of fire, clad

      in his gleaming armour, and crying with a loud voice. When the

      son of Atreus heard him, he said to himself in his dismay, “Alas!

      what shall I do? I may not let the Trojans take the armour of

      Patroclus who has fallen fighting on my behalf, lest some Danaan

      who sees me should cry shame upon me. Still if for my honour’s

      sake I fight Hector and the Trojans single-handed, they will

      prove too many for me, for Hector is bringing them up in force.

      Why, however, should I thus hesitate? When a man fights in

      despite of heaven with one whom a god befriends, he will soon rue

      it. Let no Danaan think ill of me if I give place to Hector, for

      the hand of heaven is with him. Yet, if I could find Ajax, the

      two of us would fight Hector and heaven too, if we might only

      save the body of Patroclus for Achilles son of Peleus. This, of

      many evils would be the least.”



      While he was thus in two minds, the Trojans came up to him with

      Hector at their head; he therefore drew back and left the body,

      turning about like some bearded lion who is being chased by dogs

      and men from a stockyard with spears and hue and cry, whereon he

      is daunted and slinks sulkily off—even so did Menelaus son of

      Atreus turn and leave the body of Patroclus. When among the body

      of his men, he looked around for mighty Ajax son of Telamon, and

      presently saw him on the extreme left of the fight, cheering on

      his men and exhorting them to keep on fighting, for Phoebus

      Apollo had spread a great panic among them. He ran up to him and

      said, “Ajax, my good friend, come with me at once to dead

      Patroclus, if so be that we may take the body to Achilles—as for

      his armour, Hector already has it.”



      These words stirred the heart of Ajax, and he made his way among

      the front ranks, Menelaus going with him. Hector had stripped

      Patroclus of his armour, and was dragging him away to cut off his

      head and take the body to fling before the dogs of Troy. But Ajax

      came up with his shield like wall before him, on which Hector

      withdrew under shelter of his men, and sprang on to his chariot,

      giving the armour over to the Trojans to take to the city, as a

      great trophy for himself; Ajax, therefore, covered the body of

      Patroclus with his broad shield and bestrode him; as a lion

      stands over his whelps if hunters have come upon him in a forest

      when he is with his little ones—in the pride and fierceness of

      his strength he draws his knit brows down till they cover his

      eyes—even so did Ajax bestride the body of Patroclus, and by his

      side stood Menelaus son of Atreus, nursing great sorrow in his

      heart.



      Then Glaucus son of Hippolochus looked fiercely at Hector and

      rebuked him sternly. “Hector,” said he, “you make a brave show,

      but in fight you are sadly wanting. A runaway like yourself has

      no claim to so great a reputation. Think how you may now save

      your town and citadel by the hands of your own people born in

      Ilius; for you will get no Lycians to fight for you, seeing what

      thanks they have had for their incessant hardships. Are you

      likely, sir, to do anything to help a man of less note, after

      leaving Sarpedon, who was at once your guest and comrade in arms,

      to be the spoil and prey of the Danaans? So long as he lived he

      did good service both to your city and yourself; yet you had no

      stomach to save his body from the dogs. If the Lycians will

      listen to me, they will go home and leave Troy to its fate. If

      the Trojans had any of that daring fearless spirit which lays

      hold of men who are fighting for their country and harassing

      those who would attack it, we should soon bear off Patroclus into

      Ilius. Could we get this dead man away and bring him into the

      city of Priam, the Argives would readily give up the armour of

      Sarpedon, and we should get his body to boot. For he whose squire

      has been now killed is the foremost man at the ships of the

      Achaeans—he and his close fighting followers. Nevertheless you

      dared not make a stand against Ajax, nor face him, eye to eye,

      with battle all round you, for he is a braver man than you are.”



      Hector scowled at him and answered, “Glaucus, you should know

      better. I have held you so far as a man of more understanding

      than any in all Lycia, but now I despise you for saying that I am

      afraid of Ajax. I fear neither battle nor the din of chariots,

      but Jove’s will is stronger than ours; Jove at one time makes

      even a strong man draw back and snatches victory from his grasp,

      while at another he will set him on to fight. Come hither then,

      my friend, stand by me and see indeed whether I shall play the

      coward the whole day through as you say, or whether I shall not

      stay some even of the boldest Danaans from fighting round the

      body of Patroclus.”



      As he spoke he called loudly on the Trojans saying, “Trojans,

      Lycians, and Dardanians, fighters in close combat, be men, my

      friends, and fight might and main, while I put on the goodly

      armour of Achilles, which I took when I killed Patroclus.”



      With this Hector left the fight, and ran full speed after his men

      who were taking the armour of Achilles to Troy, but had not yet

      got far. Standing for a while apart from the woeful fight, he

      changed his armour. His own he sent to the strong city of Ilius

      and to the Trojans, while he put on the immortal armour of the

      son of Peleus, which the gods had given to Peleus, who in his age

      gave it to his son; but the son did not grow old in his father’s

      armour.



      When Jove, lord of the storm-cloud, saw Hector standing aloof and

      arming himself in the armour of the son of Peleus, he wagged his

      head and muttered to himself saying, “A! poor wretch, you arm in

      the armour of a hero, before whom many another trembles, and you

      reck nothing of the doom that is already close upon you. You have

      killed his comrade so brave and strong, but it was not well that

      you should strip the armour from his head and shoulders. I do

      indeed endow you with great might now, but as against this you

      shall not return from battle to lay the armour of the son of

      Peleus before Andromache.”



      The son of Saturn bowed his portentous brows, and Hector fitted

      the armour to his body, while terrible Mars entered into him, and

      filled his whole body with might and valour. With a shout he

      strode in among the allies, and his armour flashed about him so

      that he seemed to all of them like the great son of Peleus

      himself. He went about among them and cheered them on—Mesthles,

      Glaucus, Medon, Thersilochus, Asteropaeus, Deisenor and

      Hippothous, Phorcys, Chromius and Ennomus the augur. All these

      did he exhort saying, “Hear me, allies from other cities who are

      here in your thousands, it was not in order to have a crowd about

      me that I called you hither each from his several city, but that

      with heart and soul you might defend the wives and little ones of

      the Trojans from the fierce Achaeans. For this do I oppress my

      people with your food and the presents that make you rich.

      Therefore turn, and charge at the foe, to stand or fall as is the

      game of war; whoever shall bring Patroclus, dead though he be,

      into the hands of the Trojans, and shall make Ajax give way

      before him, I will give him one half of the spoils while I keep

      the other. He will thus share like honour with myself.”



      When he had thus spoken they charged full weight upon the Danaans

      with their spears held out before them, and the hopes of each ran

      high that he should force Ajax son of Telamon to yield up the

      body—fools that they were, for he was about to take the lives of

      many. Then Ajax said to Menelaus, “My good friend Menelaus, you

      and I shall hardly come out of this fight alive. I am less

      concerned for the body of Patroclus, who will shortly become meat

      for the dogs and vultures of Troy, than for the safety of my own

      head and yours. Hector has wrapped us round in a storm of battle

      from every quarter, and our destruction seems now certain. Call

      then upon the princes of the Danaans if there is any who can hear

      us.”



      Menelaus did as he said, and shouted to the Danaans for help at

      the top of his voice. “My friends,” he cried, “princes and

      counsellors of the Argives, all you who with Agamemnon and

      Menelaus drink at the public cost, and give orders each to his

      own people as Jove vouchsafes him power and glory, the fight is

      so thick about me that I cannot distinguish you severally; come

      on, therefore, every man unbidden, and think it shame that

      Patroclus should become meat and morsel for Trojan hounds.”



      Fleet Ajax son of Oileus heard him and was first to force his way

      through the fight and run to help him. Next came Idomeneus and

      Meriones his esquire, peer of murderous Mars. As for the others

      that came into the fight after these, who of his own self could

      name them?



      The Trojans with Hector at their head charged in a body. As a

      great wave that comes thundering in at the mouth of some

      heaven-born river, and the rocks that jut into the sea ring with

      the roar of the breakers that beat and buffet them—even with such

      a roar did the Trojans come on; but the Achaeans in singleness of

      heart stood firm about the son of Menoetius, and fenced him with

      their bronze shields. Jove, moreover, hid the brightness of their

      helmets in a thick cloud, for he had borne no grudge against the

      son of Menoetius while he was still alive and squire to the

      descendant of Aeacus; therefore he was loth to let him fall a

      prey to the dogs of his foes the Trojans, and urged his comrades

      on to defend him.



      At first the Trojans drove the Achaeans back, and they withdrew

      from the dead man daunted. The Trojans did not succeed in killing

      any one, nevertheless they drew the body away. But the Achaeans

      did not lose it long, for Ajax, foremost of all the Danaans after

      the son of Peleus alike in stature and prowess, quickly rallied

      them and made towards the front like a wild boar upon the

      mountains when he stands at bay in the forest glades and routs

      the hounds and lusty youths that have attacked him—even so did

      Ajax son of Telamon passing easily in among the phalanxes of the

      Trojans, disperse those who had bestridden Patroclus and were

      most bent on winning glory by dragging him off to their city. At

      this moment Hippothous brave son of the Pelasgian Lethus, in his

      zeal for Hector and the Trojans, was dragging the body off by the

      foot through the press of the fight, having bound a strap round

      the sinews near the ancle; but a mischief soon befell him from

      which none of those could save him who would have gladly done so,

      for the son of Telamon sprang forward and smote him on his

      bronze-cheeked helmet. The plumed headpiece broke about the point

      of the weapon, struck at once by the spear and by the strong hand

      of Ajax, so that the bloody brain came oozing out through the

      crest-socket. His strength then failed him and he let Patroclus’

      foot drop from his hand, as he fell full length dead upon the

      body; thus he died far from the fertile land of Larissa, and

      never repaid his parents the cost of bringing him up, for his

      life was cut short early by the spear of mighty Ajax. Hector then

      took aim at Ajax with a spear, but he saw it coming and just

      managed to avoid it; the spear passed on and struck Schedius son

      of noble Iphitus, captain of the Phoceans, who dwelt in famed

      Panopeus and reigned over much people; it struck him under the

      middle of the collar-bone the bronze point went right through

      him, coming out at the bottom of his shoulder-blade, and his

      armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.

      Ajax in his turn struck noble Phorcys son of Phaenops in the

      middle of the belly as he was bestriding Hippothous, and broke

      the plate of his cuirass; whereon the spear tore out his entrails

      and he clutched the ground in his palm as he fell to earth.

      Hector and those who were in the front rank then gave ground,

      while the Argives raised a loud cry of triumph, and drew off the

      bodies of Phorcys and Hippothous which they stripped presently of

      their armour.



      The Trojans would now have been worsted by the brave Achaeans and

      driven back to Ilius through their own cowardice, while the

      Argives, so great was their courage and endurance, would have

      achieved a triumph even against the will of Jove, if Apollo had

      not roused Aeneas, in the likeness of Periphas son of Epytus, an

      attendant who had grown old in the service of Aeneas’ aged

      father, and was at all times devoted to him. In his likeness,

      then, Apollo said, “Aeneas, can you not manage, even though

      heaven be against us, to save high Ilius? I have known men, whose

      numbers, courage, and self-reliance have saved their people in

      spite of Jove, whereas in this case he would much rather give

      victory to us than to the Danaans, if you would only fight

      instead of being so terribly afraid.”



      Aeneas knew Apollo when he looked straight at him, and shouted to

      Hector saying, “Hector and all other Trojans and allies, shame on

      us if we are beaten by the Achaeans and driven back to Ilius

      through our own cowardice. A god has just come up to me and told

      me that Jove the supreme disposer will be with us. Therefore let

      us make for the Danaans, that it may go hard with them ere they

      bear away dead Patroclus to the ships.”



      As he spoke he sprang out far in front of the others, who then

      rallied and again faced the Achaeans. Aeneas speared Leiocritus

      son of Arisbas, a valiant follower of Lycomedes, and Lycomedes

      was moved with pity as he saw him fall; he therefore went close

      up, and speared Apisaon son of Hippasus shepherd of his people in

      the liver under the midriff, so that he died; he had come from

      fertile Paeonia and was the best man of them all after

      Asteropaeus. Asteropaeus flew forward to avenge him and attack

      the Danaans, but this might no longer be, inasmuch as those about

      Patroclus were well covered by their shields, and held their

      spears in front of them, for Ajax had given them strict orders

      that no man was either to give ground, or to stand out before the

      others, but all were to hold well together about the body and

      fight hand to hand. Thus did huge Ajax bid them, and the earth

      ran red with blood as the corpses fell thick on one another alike

      on the side of the Trojans and allies, and on that of the

      Danaans; for these last, too, fought no bloodless fight though

      many fewer of them perished, through the care they took to defend

      and stand by one another.



      Thus did they fight as it were a flaming fire; it seemed as

      though it had gone hard even with the sun and moon, for they were

      hidden over all that part where the bravest heroes were fighting

      about the dead son of Menoetius, whereas the other Danaans and

      Achaeans fought at their ease in full daylight with brilliant

      sunshine all round them, and there was not a cloud to be seen

      neither on plain nor mountain. These last moreover would rest for

      a while and leave off fighting, for they were some distance apart

      and beyond the range of one another’s weapons, whereas those who

      were in the thick of the fray suffered both from battle and

      darkness. All the best of them were being worn out by the great

      weight of their armour, but the two valiant heroes, Thrasymedes

      and Antilochus, had not yet heard of the death of Patroclus, and

      believed him to be still alive and leading the van against the

      Trojans; they were keeping themselves in reserve against the

      death or rout of their own comrades, for so Nestor had ordered

      when he sent them from the ships into battle.



      Thus through the livelong day did they wage fierce war, and the

      sweat of their toil rained ever on their legs under them, and on

      their hands and eyes, as they fought over the squire of the fleet

      son of Peleus. It was as when a man gives a great ox-hide all

      drenched in fat to his men, and bids them stretch it; whereon

      they stand round it in a ring and tug till the moisture leaves

      it, and the fat soaks in for the many that pull at it, and it is

      well stretched—even so did the two sides tug the dead body hither

      and thither within the compass of but a little space—the Trojans

      steadfastly set on dragging it into Ilius, while the Achaeans

      were no less so on taking it to their ships; and fierce was the

      fight between them. Not Mars himself the lord of hosts, nor yet

      Minerva, even in their fullest fury could make light of such a

      battle.



      Such fearful turmoil of men and horses did Jove on that day

      ordain round the body of Patroclus. Meanwhile Achilles did not

      know that he had fallen, for the fight was under the wall of Troy

      a long way off the ships. He had no idea, therefore, that

      Patroclus was dead, and deemed that he would return alive as soon

      as he had gone close up to the gates. He knew that he was not to

      sack the city neither with nor without himself, for his mother

      had often told him this when he had sat alone with her, and she

      had informed him of the counsels of great Jove. Now, however, she

      had not told him how great a disaster had befallen him in the

      death of the one who was far dearest to him of all his comrades.



      The others still kept on charging one another round the body with

      their pointed spears and killing each other. Then would one say,

      “My friends, we can never again show our faces at the

      ships—better, and greatly better, that earth should open and

      swallow us here in this place, than that we should let the

      Trojans have the triumph of bearing off Patroclus to their city.”



      The Trojans also on their part spoke to one another saying,

      “Friends, though we fall to a man beside this body, let none

      shrink from fighting.” With such words did they exhort each

      other. They fought and fought, and an iron clank rose through the

      void air to the brazen vault of heaven. The horses of the

      descendant of Aeacus stood out of the fight and wept when they

      heard that their driver had been laid low by the hand of

      murderous Hector. Automedon, valiant son of Diores, lashed them

      again and again; many a time did he speak kindly to them, and

      many a time did he upbraid them, but they would neither go back

      to the ships by the waters of the broad Hellespont, nor yet into

      battle among the Achaeans; they stood with their chariot stock

      still, as a pillar set over the tomb of some dead man or woman,

      and bowed their heads to the ground. Hot tears fell from their

      eyes as they mourned the loss of their charioteer, and their

      noble manes drooped all wet from under the yoke-straps on either

      side the yoke.



      The son of Saturn saw them and took pity upon their sorrow. He

      wagged his head, and muttered to himself, saying, “Poor things,

      why did we give you to King Peleus who is a mortal, while you are

      yourselves ageless and immortal? Was it that you might share the

      sorrows that befall mankind? for of all creatures that live and

      move upon the earth there is none so pitiable as he is—still,

      Hector son of Priam shall drive neither you nor your chariot. I

      will not have it. It is enough that he should have the armour

      over which he vaunts so vainly. Furthermore I will give you

      strength of heart and limb to bear Automedon safely to the ships

      from battle, for I shall let the Trojans triumph still further,

      and go on killing till they reach the ships; whereon night shall

      fall and darkness overshadow the land.”



      As he spoke he breathed heart and strength into the horses so

      that they shook the dust from out of their manes, and bore their

      chariot swiftly into the fight that raged between Trojans and

      Achaeans. Behind them fought Automedon full of sorrow for his

      comrade, as a vulture amid a flock of geese. In and out, and here

      and there, full speed he dashed amid the throng of the Trojans,

      but for all the fury of his pursuit he killed no man, for he

      could not wield his spear and keep his horses in hand when alone

      in the chariot; at last, however, a comrade, Alcimedon, son of

      Laerces son of Haemon caught sight of him and came up behind his

      chariot. “Automedon,” said he, “what god has put this folly into

      your heart and robbed you of your right mind, that you fight the

      Trojans in the front rank single-handed? He who was your comrade

      is slain, and Hector plumes himself on being armed in the armour

      of the descendant of Aeacus.”



      Automedon son of Diores answered, “Alcimedon, there is no one

      else who can control and guide the immortal steeds so well as you

      can, save only Patroclus—while he was alive—peer of gods in

      counsel. Take then the whip and reins, while I go down from the

      car and fight.”



      Alcimedon sprang on to the chariot, and caught up the whip and

      reins, while Automedon leaped from off the car. When Hector saw

      him he said to Aeneas who was near him, “Aeneas, counsellor of

      the mail-clad Trojans, I see the steeds of the fleet son of

      Aeacus come into battle with weak hands to drive them. I am sure,

      if you think well, that we might take them; they will not dare

      face us if we both attack them.”



      The valiant son of Anchises was of the same mind, and the pair

      went right on, with their shoulders covered under shields of

      tough dry ox-hide, overlaid with much bronze. Chromius and Aretus

      went also with them, and their hearts beat high with hope that

      they might kill the men and capture the horses—fools that they

      were, for they were not to return scatheless from their meeting

      with Automedon, who prayed to father Jove and was forthwith

      filled with courage and strength abounding. He turned to his

      trusty comrade Alcimedon and said, “Alcimedon, keep your horses

      so close up that I may feel their breath upon my back; I doubt

      that we shall not stay Hector son of Priam till he has killed us

      and mounted behind the horses; he will then either spread panic

      among the ranks of the Achaeans, or himself be killed among the

      foremost.”



      On this he cried out to the two Ajaxes and Menelaus, “Ajaxes

      captains of the Argives, and Menelaus, give the dead body over to

      them that are best able to defend it, and come to the rescue of

      us living; for Hector and Aeneas who are the two best men among

      the Trojans, are pressing us hard in the full tide of war.

      Nevertheless the issue lies on the lap of heaven, I will

      therefore hurl my spear and leave the rest to Jove.”



      He poised and hurled as he spoke, whereon the spear struck the

      round shield of Aretus, and went right through it for the shield

      stayed it not, so that it was driven through his belt into the

      lower part of his belly. As when some sturdy youth, axe in hand,

      deals his blow behind the horns of an ox and severs the tendons

      at the back of its neck so that it springs forward and then

      drops, even so did Aretus give one bound and then fall on his

      back the spear quivering in his body till it made an end of him.

      Hector then aimed a spear at Automedon but he saw it coming and

      stooped forward to avoid it, so that it flew past him and the

      point stuck in the ground, while the butt-end went on quivering

      till Mars robbed it of its force. They would then have fought

      hand to hand with swords had not the two Ajaxes forced their way

      through the crowd when they heard their comrade calling, and

      parted them for all their fury—for Hector, Aeneas, and Chromius

      were afraid and drew back, leaving Aretus to lie there struck to

      the heart. Automedon, peer of fleet Mars, then stripped him of

      his armour and vaunted over him saying, “I have done little to

      assuage my sorrow for the son of Menoetius, for the man I have

      killed is not so good as he was.”



      As he spoke he took the blood-stained spoils and laid them upon

      his chariot; then he mounted the car with his hands and feet all

      steeped in gore as a lion that has been gorging upon a bull.



      And now the fierce groanful fight again raged about Patroclus,

      for Minerva came down from heaven and roused its fury by the

      command of far-seeing Jove, who had changed his mind and sent her

      to encourage the Danaans. As when Jove bends his bright bow in

      heaven in token to mankind either of war or of the chill storms

      that stay men from their labour and plague the flocks—even so,

      wrapped in such radiant raiment, did Minerva go in among the host

      and speak man by man to each. First she took the form and voice

      of Phoenix and spoke to Menelaus son of Atreus, who was standing

      near her. “Menelaus,” said she, “it will be shame and dishonour

      to you, if dogs tear the noble comrade of Achilles under the

      walls of Troy. Therefore be staunch, and urge your men to be so

      also.”



      Menelaus answered, “Phoenix, my good old friend, may Minerva

      vouchsafe me strength and keep the darts from off me, for so

      shall I stand by Patroclus and defend him; his death has gone to

      my heart, but Hector is as a raging fire and deals his blows

      without ceasing, for Jove is now granting him a time of triumph.”



      Minerva was pleased at his having named herself before any of the

      other gods. Therefore she put strength into his knees and

      shoulders, and made him as bold as a fly, which, though driven

      off will yet come again and bite if it can, so dearly does it

      love man’s blood—even so bold as this did she make him as he

      stood over Patroclus and threw his spear. Now there was among the

      Trojans a man named Podes, son of Eetion, who was both rich and

      valiant. Hector held him in the highest honour for he was his

      comrade and boon companion; the spear of Menelaus struck this man

      in the girdle just as he had turned in flight, and went right

      through him. Whereon he fell heavily forward, and Menelaus son of

      Atreus drew off his body from the Trojans into the ranks of his

      own people.



      Apollo then went up to Hector and spurred him on to fight, in the

      likeness of Phaenops son of Asius who lived in Abydos and was the

      most favoured of all Hector’s guests. In his likeness Apollo

      said, “Hector, who of the Achaeans will fear you henceforward now

      that you have quailed before Menelaus who has ever been rated

      poorly as a soldier? Yet he has now got a corpse away from the

      Trojans single-handed, and has slain your own true comrade, a man

      brave among the foremost, Podes son of Eetion.”



      A dark cloud of grief fell upon Hector as he heard, and he made

      his way to the front clad in full armour. Thereon the son of

      Saturn seized his bright tasselled aegis, and veiled Ida in

      cloud: he sent forth his lightnings and his thunders, and as he

      shook his aegis he gave victory to the Trojans and routed the

      Achaeans.



      The panic was begun by Peneleos the Boeotian, for while keeping

      his face turned ever towards the foe he had been hit with a spear

      on the upper part of the shoulder; a spear thrown by Polydamas

      had grazed the top of the bone, for Polydamas had come up to him

      and struck him from close at hand. Then Hector in close combat

      struck Leitus son of noble Alectryon in the hand by the wrist,

      and disabled him from fighting further. He looked about him in

      dismay, knowing that never again should he wield spear in battle

      with the Trojans. While Hector was in pursuit of Leitus,

      Idomeneus struck him on the breastplate over his chest near the

      nipple; but the spear broke in the shaft, and the Trojans cheered

      aloud. Hector then aimed at Idomeneus son of Deucalion as he was

      standing on his chariot, and very narrowly missed him, but the

      spear hit Coiranus, a follower and charioteer of Meriones who had

      come with him from Lyctus. Idomeneus had left the ships on foot

      and would have afforded a great triumph to the Trojans if

      Coiranus had not driven quickly up to him, he therefore brought

      life and rescue to Idomeneus, but himself fell by the hand of

      murderous Hector. For Hector hit him on the jaw under the ear;

      the end of the spear drove out his teeth and cut his tongue in

      two pieces, so that he fell from his chariot and let the reins

      fall to the ground. Meriones gathered them up from the ground and

      took them into his own hands, then he said to Idomeneus, “Lay on,

      till you get back to the ships, for you must see that the day is

      no longer ours.”



      On this Idomeneus lashed the horses to the ships, for fear had

      taken hold upon him.



      Ajax and Menelaus noted how Jove had turned the scale in favour

      of the Trojans, and Ajax was first to speak. “Alas,” said he,

      “even a fool may see that father Jove is helping the Trojans. All

      their weapons strike home; no matter whether it be a brave man or

      a coward that hurls them, Jove speeds all alike, whereas ours

      fall each one of them without effect. What, then, will be best

      both as regards rescuing the body, and our return to the joy of

      our friends who will be grieving as they look hitherwards; for

      they will make sure that nothing can now check the terrible hands

      of Hector, and that he will fling himself upon our ships. I wish

      that some one would go and tell the son of Peleus at once, for I

      do not think he can have yet heard the sad news that the dearest

      of his friends has fallen. But I can see not a man among the

      Achaeans to send, for they and their chariots are alike hidden in

      darkness. O father Jove, lift this cloud from over the sons of

      the Achaeans; make heaven serene, and let us see; if you will

      that we perish, let us fall at any rate by daylight.”



      Father Jove heard him and had compassion upon his tears.

      Forthwith he chased away the cloud of darkness, so that the sun

      shone out and all the fighting was revealed. Ajax then said to

      Menelaus, “Look, Menelaus, and if Antilochus son of Nestor be

      still living, send him at once to tell Achilles that by far the

      dearest to him of all his comrades has fallen.”



      Menelaus heeded his words and went his way as a lion from a

      stockyard—the lion is tired of attacking the men and hounds, who

      keep watch the whole night through and will not let him feast on

      the fat of their herd. In his lust of meat he makes straight at

      them but in vain, for darts from strong hands assail him, and

      burning brands which daunt him for all his hunger, so in the

      morning he slinks sulkily away—even so did Menelaus sorely

      against his will leave Patroclus, in great fear lest the Achaeans

      should be driven back in rout and let him fall into the hands of

      the foe. He charged Meriones and the two Ajaxes straitly saying,

      “Ajaxes and Meriones, leaders of the Argives, now indeed remember

      how good Patroclus was; he was ever courteous while alive, bear

      it in mind now that he is dead.”



      With this Menelaus left them, looking round him as keenly as an

      eagle, whose sight they say is keener than that of any other

      bird—however high he may be in the heavens, not a hare that runs

      can escape him by crouching under bush or thicket, for he will

      swoop down upon it and make an end of it—even so, O Menelaus, did

      your keen eyes range round the mighty host of your followers to

      see if you could find the son of Nestor still alive. Presently

      Menelaus saw him on the extreme left of the battle cheering on

      his men and exhorting them to fight boldly. Menelaus went up to

      him and said, “Antilochus, come here and listen to sad news,

      which I would indeed were untrue. You must see with your own eyes

      that heaven is heaping calamity upon the Danaans, and giving

      victory to the Trojans. Patroclus has fallen, who was the bravest

      of the Achaeans, and sorely will the Danaans miss him. Run

      instantly to the ships and tell Achilles, that he may come to

      rescue the body and bear it to the ships. As for the armour,

      Hector already has it.”



      Antilochus was struck with horror. For a long time he was

      speechless; his eyes filled with tears and he could find no

      utterance, but he did as Menelaus had said, and set off running

      as soon as he had given his armour to a comrade, Laodocus, who

      was wheeling his horses round, close beside him.



      Thus, then, did he run weeping from the field, to carry the bad

      news to Achilles son of Peleus. Nor were you, O Menelaus, minded

      to succour his harassed comrades, when Antilochus had left the

      Pylians—and greatly did they miss him—but he sent them noble

      Thrasymedes, and himself went back to Patroclus. He came running

      up to the two Ajaxes and said, “I have sent Antilochus to the

      ships to tell Achilles, but rage against Hector as he may, he

      cannot come, for he cannot fight without armour. What then will

      be our best plan both as regards rescuing the dead, and our own

      escape from death amid the battle-cries of the Trojans?”



      Ajax answered, “Menelaus, you have said well: do you, then, and

      Meriones stoop down, raise the body, and bear it out of the fray,

      while we two behind you keep off Hector and the Trojans, one in

      heart as in name, and long used to fighting side by side with one

      another.”



      On this Menelaus and Meriones took the dead man in their arms and

      lifted him high aloft with a great effort. The Trojan host raised

      a hue and cry behind them when they saw the Achaeans bearing the

      body away, and flew after them like hounds attacking a wounded

      boar at the loo of a band of young huntsmen. For a while the

      hounds fly at him as though they would tear him in pieces, but

      now and again he turns on them in a fury, scaring and scattering

      them in all directions—even so did the Trojans for a while charge

      in a body, striking with sword and with spears pointed at both

      the ends, but when the two Ajaxes faced them and stood at bay,

      they would turn pale and no man dared press on to fight further

      about the dead.



      In this wise did the two heroes strain every nerve to bear the

      body to the ships out of the fight. The battle raged round them

      like fierce flames that when once kindled spread like wildfire

      over a city, and the houses fall in the glare of its burning—even

      such was the roar and tramp of men and horses that pursued them

      as they bore Patroclus from the field. Or as mules that put forth

      all their strength to draw some beam or great piece of ship’s

      timber down a rough mountain-track, and they pant and sweat as

      they go—even so did Menelaus and Meriones pant and sweat as they bore the

      body of Patroclus. Behind them the two Ajaxes held stoutly out.

      As some wooded mountain-spur that stretches across a plain will

      turn water and check the flow even of a great river, nor is there

      any stream strong enough to break through it—even so did the two

      Ajaxes face the Trojans and stem the tide of their fighting

      though they kept pouring on towards them and foremost among them

      all was Aeneas son of Anchises with valiant Hector. As a flock of

      daws or starlings fall to screaming and chattering when they see

      a falcon, foe to all small birds, come soaring near them, even so

      did the Achaean youth raise a babel of cries as they fled before

      Aeneas and Hector, unmindful of their former prowess. In the rout

      of the Danaans much goodly armour fell round about the trench,

      and of fighting there was no end.